{"text": " \n# Moonstone Beach\n\n### The Main Street Merchants, Book 1\n\n## Linda Seed\n\n### Contents\n\nGet a Linda Seed short story FREE\n\nBy Linda Seed\n\nDedication\n\nChapter 1\n\nChapter 2\n\nChapter 3\n\nChapter 4\n\nChapter 5\n\nChapter 6\n\nChapter 7\n\nChapter 8\n\nChapter 9\n\nChapter 10\n\nChapter 11\n\nChapter 12\n\nChapter 13\n\nChapter 14\n\nChapter 15\n\nChapter 16\n\nChapter 17\n\nChapter 18\n\nChapter 19\n\nChapter 20\n\nChapter 21\n\nChapter 22\n\nChapter 23\n\nChapter 24\n\nRead more of the Main Street Merchants series\n\nRead the Delaneys of Cambria series\n\nRead the Russo Sisters series\n\nAcknowledgments\n\n# Get a Linda Seed short story FREE\n\nSign up for Linda's no-spam newsletter to read more about Kate and Jackson in the Main Street Merchants short story \"Jacks are Wild.\" Your information will never be shared or sold. Grab your free story here.\n\n# By Linda Seed\n\nTHE MAIN STREET MERCHANTS\n\nMoonstone Beach\n\nCambria Sky\n\nNearly Wild\n\nFire and Glass\n\n* * *\n\nTHE DELANEYS OF CAMBRIA\n\nA Long, Cool Rain\n\nThe Promise of Lightning\n\nLoving the Storm\n\nSearching for Sunshine\n\n* * *\n\nTHE RUSSO SISTERS\n\nSaving Sofia\n\nFirst Crush\nThis is a work of fiction. Any characters, organizations, places, or events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.\n\n* * *\n\nMOONSTONE BEACH\n\nPublished by Linda Seed, Copyright **©** 2015\n\n* * *\n\nAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.\n\n* * *\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n* * *\n\nThe author is available for book signings, book club discussions, conferences, and other appearances.\n\nLinda Seed may be contacted via email at lindaseed24@gmail.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/LindaSeedAuthor, or on Twitter at www.twitter.com/LindaSeedAuthor.\n\n* * *\n\nCover design by Kari March\n\n  Created with Vellum\n_For John_\n\n_Now and always_\n\n# 1\n\n\"Well, look what the cat dragged in.\"\n\nAlthea Morgan, sales assistant at Swept Away, peered with disdain at Kate Bennet, the bookstore's owner, as Kate hurried into the store. \"I expected you at nine. And here it is... \" She checked her watch. \"... Almost _nine forty-two_.\" The woman had her fists planted on her impossibly narrow hips, and her lips were pursed, causing unsightly lines to form around her mouth. \"We've had a rush, and I had to get orders ready to ship, and I didn't know _when_ you were going to come in, so I had to tell Mr. Belmont that I—\"\n\n\"Althea.\" Kate had barely gotten in the door, and she was still balancing a stack of books and her purse in her arms.\n\n\"Now, I know it's probably not my business, but—\"\n\n\" _Althea_.\"\n\n\"I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt you to _call_ —\"\n\n\"ALTHEA!\"\n\nThe older woman looked at Kate as though she'd suddenly been awakened from a nap during the REM cycle. She blinked several times, her brightly lipsticked mouth slack.\n\n\"I'm sorry I'm late, but I had some things to attend to. It was inconsiderate of me, you're right. I apologize.\" Kate smiled in what she hoped was a winning way. She teetered over to the counter on heels that were too high and put down her things with a sigh of relief.\n\nAlthea, who would not reveal her age but was probably somewhere in her late sixties, patted her dark-dyed helmet of hair and straightened the flowing turquoise silk jacket she was wearing over white capris and a white tank. \"Well. It just seems to me that as the _owner_ , you should try to set some sort of _example_....\"\n\n\"You're right. I'm sorry,\" Kate said again.\n\n\"I just...\"\n\n\"Did Elliot call? I was expecting to hear from him about our quarterly taxes.\" In fact, Kate hadn't expected to hear from her accountant, but she hoped that an abrupt change of subject would derail Althea's criticisms. Once Althea got going, it was difficult to stop her by direct means.\n\n\"He might have. I've just been so _busy_ trying to do everything alone, I didn't even have time to check the phone messages,\" Althea fussed.\n\nKate waited until Althea turned away, then rolled her eyes. Kate's friends who ran the shops on either side of her had urged her to stop placating Althea and fire the ill-tempered old bat—show her who ran the place once and for all—but the truth was that Kate couldn't bring herself to do it. Althea knew books. She often knew what Kate needed done before Kate knew it herself. But most importantly, Althea had been hired by Kate's mother, back when Lydia Bennet had built the business from nothing more than a dream. Lydia was gone now, but the spirit of what she had made here remained. So Althea stayed, and Kate soothed and apologized.\n\n\"Those shoes probably slow you down.\" Althea pointed a heavily lacquered fingernail toward Kate's feet. \"They are lovely, though.\"\n\nKate stuck out one foot and turned it this way and that, displaying it for Althea's approval. \"They are, aren't they? I'm not the best with three-inch spikes, but they were half price. I think I just need practice.\"\n\nAlthea's lips pursed tightly. \"Just make sure you don't break an ankle while you're practicing. With you in a cast, you wouldn't be able to do _anything_ around here. Though, I can't see how that would be much different.... \"\n\nKate pretended not to hear that last insult. She carried her books and her bag into the tiny back room, which was stacked with rare volumes, remainders, and damaged books that needed to be returned or repaired. She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of old pages mixed with the briny smell of the ocean. It was an aroma that always made her happy.\n\n_This will never get old._\n\nShe ran a hand through her shoulder-length dark hair to smooth it and emerged into the front room of the store. The shop was small, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves crammed with every possible genre: mystery, romance, literary novels, biography, history, and more. The hardwood floors and dark wood shelves created the sense that you'd gone back in time, to a library in an English country house that had seen better days but was, nonetheless, much loved. One middle-aged man in Bermuda shorts, a tank top, and wide leather sandals was browsing through the James Pattersons. Other than that, the place was empty except for Jane Austen, the Swept Away cat. This was what Althea called a rush?\n\n\"Good morning,\" Kate said warmly to the guy in the Bermudas. \"Welcome to Swept Away. Is there anything I can help you find?\"\n\n\"Oh, no thanks, I'm just browsing,\" he said.\n\n\"Of course. Used mystery and crime paperbacks are buy one get one free all this week.\"\n\nThe guy brightened. \"Hey! Thanks.\"\n\nHe selected four books for a total of $4.75 plus tax. Kate finished the sale, put the books into a bag, and wished the guy a lovely time in Cambria.\n\nHe was barely out the door before it burst open again, the bell attached to the top jingling in panic. A stunning woman with long, blond hair piled into a messy bun on the top of her head exploded into the room, her arms flying.\n\n\"Kate! You're here! What took you so long? Red alert! Red alert!\"\n\nKate's eyebrows shot up. \"Really?\"\n\nLacy Jordan rushed behind the counter, grabbed Kate's arm, and yanked her toward the door. \"Would I lie to you about a red alert?\"\n\n\"Well, no. Where? Where?\"\n\n\"In my shop! Hurry!\"\n\nLacy was still wearing the coffee-stained apron she sported while serving customers at the espresso place next door. Her sneakers, with faded jeans and a tight white T-shirt, allowed her more freedom of movement than Kate had in her heels and pencil skirt.\n\n\"Oh, come on!\" Lacy urged. \"Why would you wear those shoes when you know there might be a red alert?\"\n\n\"I guess I wasn't thinking,\" Kate said.\n\n\"I guess not!\"\n\nKate click-clacked as quickly as she could across the sidewalk and past a pair of tourists, until Lacy thrust her by the arm through the door of Jitters, the coffee bar where Lacy worked. The force with which Lacy propelled her through the door caused Kate to teeter on the heels before finally righting herself.\n\n\"Where?\" she whispered, out of breath.\n\n\"Left rear corner.\"\n\nKate looked around the room until her eyes rested on the man sitting at a small, round café table, sipping something from a white ceramic cup.\n\n\"Oh,\" she breathed.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nIt was him, all right. The first spotting had been three days earlier, at the wine tasting bar run by Rose Watkins, the third of their foursome of friends. The guy, a cross between David Beckham and Chris Hemsworth, was such a ticking bomb of sex appeal that Rose had immediately and surreptitiously called all of them over from their respective places of business to come in and get a look at him. After some discussion, they'd decided that he would be the perfect practice man for Kate, who—two years post-divorce—had recently decided she was ready to start dating again. Flirting was the first step, and who better to flirt with than a guy who could be a Calvin Klein underwear model?\n\nThe \"red alert\" system had been created to deal with any future sightings—not only so Kate could polish up skills that had suffered from disuse, but also so the other women could get another chance to bask in his glory.\n\n\"Did you call Rose and Gen?\" Kate was whispering out of the side of her mouth, all systems in stealth mode, though Mr. Beautiful likely couldn't hear them from where he sat.\n\n\"Gen's not at the gallery, and Rose is stuck doing a tasting for a big group.\" She sighed. \"He's all ours.\"\n\n\"Wow.\" They stood together, thinking. \"Well, I'm just gonna start with a stroll to the ladies' room. Just a little fly-by. Get a better look,\" Kate said.\n\nLacy clapped her on the back companionably. \"Good plan.\"\n\nKate took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. \"Wish me luck. I'm going in.\"\n\nShe did one or two cleansing breaths and then started to walk casually toward the back of the shop. Just a woman on her way to the restroom. Nothing unusual going on here at all. The trick was to look at him while pretending not to look at him. He was facing away from her now, so the stealthy looking probably would work best on the way back.\n\nAs she passed, he was looking down at a newspaper that was folded next to his coffee mug. Black T-shirt stretched across a muscular back. Three-day scruff of beard. Black hair still wet. From a shower? From a dip at the beach? From surfing? Oh, surfing. She pictured him in a skin-tight wetsuit, hair dripping with ocean water. Yum.\n\nIt was this train of thought Kate was following—just as she was passing Mr. Beautiful's table—when the heel of her left shoe went into a groove of the fashionably rough-hewn wood floor, causing her to pitch forward. She pinwheeled her arms desperately to regain her balance, but it wasn't enough to keep her from colliding with the floor with a loud _whump_.\n\nShe was still lying there, trying to figure out how best to get up and maintain her dignity—though it was obviously too late for that—when she looked up and saw Mr. Beautiful looming over her.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" He offered her a hand, but his eyes were drifting lower. She looked down and realized that her skirt had ridden up in the fall, exposing about three-fourths of her thighs.\n\n\"Um, yeah. Everything still works, I think.\" She blushed furiously. She slapped at her skirt to put it back into place as she took his hand and got to her feet. \"Thanks.\"\n\n\"You'd better have a seat. Take a minute to regroup.\" He pulled out a seat at his table and ushered her into it. \"I'm Zach.\" He offered her the hand she'd only moments ago released.\n\n\"Kate.\" They shook. His grip was firm, his palm cool and smooth. \"Hey, look. I should go. I don't want to interrupt you in the middle of your...\" She waved her hand vaguely. \"Your cappuccino and your newspaper and...\" More vague waving. \"... And whatever it was you were doing.\"\n\nHe nodded sagely. \"Cappuccino and newspaper do require a lot of concentration.\" One corner of his mouth quirked up in a sexy smile.\n\n\"Well.\" She blushed again. She could feel the red wave of her embarrassment start at her neck and move up toward her hairline.\n\n\"Can I buy you a coffee?\" he offered.\n\n\"Oh. I...\" Before she could answer, Lacy called over from behind the counter.\n\n\"I've got your regular going, Kate! Soy latte, extra foam. Coming up!\"\n\nThat woman could eavesdrop from the next town during a thunderstorm.\n\n\"Well, I guess that settles it,\" he said. \"You sure you didn't hurt yourself? That was quite a fall.\"\n\n\"I'm sure. Just embarrassed. I'm such an idiot. It's these shoes. They're torture devices.\"\n\nHe peered down at her shoes—fire engine red pumps with pointed toes and stiletto heels—and let out a long whistle. \"I've got to think they're worth the trouble.\"\n\n\"Well, that's the hope, anyway.\" She crossed her legs and watched him watch them. \"Are you in town visiting?\"\n\nHe nodded, taking a sip of his cappuccino. He licked a bit of foam from his upper lip, and Kate felt her own mouth go dry. \"Yeah. Just taking a little vacation. I'm staying at a B&B on the beach. The Central Coast is beautiful this time of year.\"\n\n\"It's beautiful any time of year.\"\n\nLacy came over with Kate's latte. She set the drink on the table and shot Kate a wink before hurrying away.\n\n\"Cambria was my wife's favorite place.\"\n\n_Wife? Was?_ She tried to figure out how to ask. \"Is she...\"\n\n\"We're divorced.\"\n\n\"Ah. Me too.\" Kate felt relieved that she hadn't stumbled onto a grieving widower. It would be a shame if she'd crashed into the hardwood only to have to console him while he cried and showed her pictures of the wedding.\n\nNo sooner had she thought it than he pulled a phone from his back pocket and scrolled through his photos before showing one to Kate. \"Here she is. This is Sherry.\" His voice sounded wistful as he offered the phone to Kate.\n\n\"Wow.\" The woman in the photo was supermodel gorgeous, with long, silky black hair, eyes the color of espresso, and flawless skin the shade of warm caramel. Kate would not have been surprised to see a tiara and a sash. \"She's beautiful.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" He took the phone back and replaced it in his pocket. \"We spent our honeymoon here.\"\n\n\"In Cambria?\"\n\n\"In the same B&B.\"\n\nKate looked at him blankly. \"Oh. And you came here because...\"\n\n\"I guess I just wanted to feel close to her again.\" A tear came to his eye, and he brushed it away.\n\nThis encounter was so clearly going nowhere that Kate tried to think of a graceful way to excuse herself. With exquisite timing, Althea came bursting through the doorway of the café.\n\n\"Kate!\" the older woman boomed, her face red, looking pissed-off.\n\n\"Oops. I'm so sorry, I have to get going,\" she told Mr. Beautiful, whom she now thought of as Mr. Sad and Beautiful. \"I have to get back to work. I work next door. At the bookshop. I mean, I own it. The bookshop. I... Um. Bye. It was really nice to meet you.\"\n\nShe grabbed her latte cup and click-clicked with tiny little steps (all her pencil skirt would allow) toward the door. \"I'm coming, Althea. Bye, Lacy! I'll see you later!\"\n\nLacy shot her a questioning look, a _why are you leaving without a wedding date or at least a phone number_ kind of glare. Kate put her thumb and pinkie to her face in the universal gesture of _call me_. Then she followed Althea out the door.\n\n\"Why, first you're late, and then you rush out the door in some kind of 'red alert' nonsense,\" the older woman was going on. \"Sometimes it's like you don't take your work seriously at all, Katherine. I mean, it's beyond me. Your mother would never...\"\n\nKate let her go on, barely listening.\n\nHer cell phone was ringing on the bookstore's counter before Kate was even all the way inside.\n\n\"What happened? Why did you leave?\"\n\nKate could hear espresso machines whirring and milk steamers hissing in the background.\n\n\"Yeah, that one's not gonna work out,\" Kate said.\n\n\"Why not? Is he too good looking? Is that it? Is the splendor of his beauty too much for your eyes?\"\n\n\"He's mourning his wife.\"\n\n\"Oh. Yikes. Dead?\"\n\n\"Divorced. He's here to relive their honeymoon. Alone. He showed me her picture.\"\n\nLacy was silent for a moment. \"Yeah, that's not going anywhere.\"\n\n\"No.\" With the phone to her ear, Kate started leafing through a pile of paperwork Althea had thrust in front of her. With dismay she noted that it was mostly bills.\n\n\"It's too bad,\" Lacy mused. \"That pratfall of yours was pure genius. Part Julia Roberts, part Lucille Ball. I'm in awe. I'm so proud. I'm like a proud mama.\"\n\n\"I'd like to say I did it on purpose, but...\"\n\n\"What?\" Lacy called out. \"What? I can't hear you over the espresso machine! I can't acknowledge a single thing you just said! I have to go! Bye, hon!\"\n\n# 2\n\nThe next morning, Kate woke to the sound of someone rummaging around in her kitchen, banging cabinet doors and sifting through the silverware drawer. Groggy, she looked at the clock. Six thirty-two. Pale sunlight filtered through the white linen curtains above the bed. She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but then she started to smell coffee, which made it impossible. Damn it.\n\nSquinty-eyed, she emerged from the bedroom to find Genevieve Porter pouring herself a mug of black coffee in Kate's tiny kitchen.\n\n\"You run out again?\" She rubbed her eyes and yawned.\n\n\"Yeah. I hope you don't mind. You always have better coffee than I do, anyway.\"\n\n\"Mi casa es... something. It's too early for foreign languages.\" Kate took a thick ceramic mug from the cupboard above the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. She added cream and an obscene amount of sugar. That first sip tasted like sweet salvation.\n\n\"Ah, God. I want to be mad at you for waking me up at six-something-ridiculous, but you made me coffee. So there's that.\"\n\nGenevieve, who rented the tiny downstairs apartment on the first floor of Kate's house, owned the Porter Gallery, a small storefront on Main Street that offered fine art as well as the seascape watercolors and ceramic tchotchkes the tourists loved. She was five-foot-two, with fiery red, curly hair that put one in mind of Merida, the Disney princess from _Brave_. Gen and Kate were, in some ways, opposites. While Gen worked out every day without fail, Kate had a vast and impressive array of excuses to avoid the gym. Where Gen was completely at home in a sheath dress and three-inch heels, Kate—as her encounter with Zach had proved—could barely manage in anything but flats. Gen was kale and egg-white omelets; Kate was Froot Loops and Pop-Tarts. Somehow, the contrasts had allowed them to complement each other in a way that had cemented their friendship from the day they'd met.\n\nGen was already dressed in spandex shorts and a pink, racer-back athletic top, running shoes on her feet, her mass of unruly hair coaxed into a more subdued ponytail. \"Come for a run with me?\" she said, batting her eyes at Kate over the rim of her cup.\n\n\"You've got to be on crack.\"\n\n\"Well, no. But the runner's high is pretty good.\"\n\n\"Get your happy, sunshiny, athletic self out of here before I beat you with a broom.\"\n\nGen cocked her head to the side, appraising Kate. \"So that's no, then?\"\n\n\"Shoo!\"\n\nWhen Gen was gone, Kate took her coffee mug out onto the back deck and sighed as she plopped into an Adirondack chair. The house, though old, small, and in a state of mild disrepair, had one of the best views in Cambria. It sat halfway up a hill that rose above the shoreline, giving the back deck a 180-degree view of the Pacific Ocean. Morning was the best time to enjoy the view, with the sun rising gently in the east. In the afternoon, it would be glaring down on her, prompting her to reach for a sun hat, sunglasses, and, ideally, a large umbrella. Right now, though, it was perfect; in June, the air was cool but not cold even this early in the morning. She could relax in her plaid pajama pants and T-shirt without the need for a sweatshirt or a blanket to keep her comfortable.\n\nAs she sipped the strong, sweet brew, she heard sea lions barking from where they perched on the rocks below. Seagulls soared overhead. And on the grassy patch one story below, just outside Gen's back door, a doe grazed, its legs long and graceful. Kate kept quiet so she wouldn't disturb it.\n\nThis had to be paradise, and if it wasn't, she couldn't imagine anywhere better. Maybe if she'd been raised here, maybe if she'd grown up in this town on the Central California coast, gone to school here, rode her bicycle on the winding, hilly roads day after day, she might have become so familiar with its beauty that she'd have stopped seeing it. As it was, though, she was thankful every day to find herself here, despite the influx of tourists that disrupted the quiet every summer, despite the struggle of keeping the bookstore running, despite the little things that kept going wrong with the house—the roof that needed repair, the persistent ant problem, the plumbing that made a kind of singing noise when you turned on the water. All of that was insignificant compared with waking up to this.\n\nKate had inherited the house—and the business—from her mother about five years before. Lydia Bennet had been a housewife for most of her adulthood, but when Kate's father had left her for another woman ten years ago, when Kate was twenty-two, Lydia had taken it as a second chance at making a life of her own. She'd sold their house in Los Angeles, bought this place, and opened the bookstore. Lydia had hired Althea soon afterward.\n\nBecause Kate had been busy attending UCLA and then launching her own career teaching college-level English, she'd never lived in Cambria until her mother had died of ovarian cancer. Kate had come up here to feel closer to her mother, to grieve, to heal. Then she'd fallen in love with the place and had never gotten around to leaving.\n\nShe went inside for another cup of coffee and checked the clock. She didn't want to be late to the shop again and risk the wrath of Althea. The shop didn't open until ten a.m. on weekdays, but she'd agreed to come in early to meet with Althea to discuss their plans for the annual Cambria Art Walk.\n\nThe Art Walk name was misleading; the event had started out, many years ago, as a way for the town to highlight the many local artists who showed their work in Cambria's galleries. Tourists and locals were encouraged to go from gallery to gallery on a warm summer evening, taking in culture and sampling hors d'oeuvres and local wines. Over the years, the event had expanded as more and more local businesses had wanted in on the action. Now, it was more of an open house that ran all up and down Main Street on one night each July. No longer was it limited to art galleries. These days, pretty much everybody—the boutiques, the coffee houses, the souvenir shops, the restaurants, and, of course, the bookstore—offered something special to visitors on the night of the Art Walk. The events and attractions included everything from live music to ceramics demonstrations to food and craft booths set up on the sidewalks. Last year, the toy store down the street had hosted a juggling show that had been a favorite among families with children.\n\nAlthea insisted that Swept Away's usual offering—a book reading and signing, with free coffee and cookies—was the correct, and most dignified, way to go. After all, what else would a bookstore do but a reading? It made sense, Kate had to admit, but she couldn't help cringing when she remembered what had happened last year. The local author they'd brought in had been so epically boring, so inept a public speaker, that people had started walking out during the reading. To avoid embarrassing the author—a genuinely nice person and a very talented writer—Kate and Althea had rushed around on the street, finding their friends and using bribes, guilt, and quid-pro-quo promises to fill the modest number of folding chairs they'd set out in the shop. Their efforts had ultimately failed, and the author had slinked away with a crushed ego, pathetic sales, and a bakery box full of leftover cookies that had been purchased for a crowd that hadn't come.\n\nThis year, Kate wanted to do something different, something exciting. Unfortunately, she had no idea what it might be. She thought about it as she crunched on a bowl of Frosted Flakes at her kitchen table. She was halfway through the bowl when Gen, sweaty and breathless, poked her head in the front door.\n\n\"You should have come, Kate. It's awesome out here.\"\n\n\"Yeah. But why waste all that awesomeness with... you know, panting and sweating.\"\n\nGen looked at Kate's breakfast and scrunched up her nose. \"You really need to do something about your nutrition.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" Kate said, changing the subject. \"What's the gallery going to do for Art Walk?\"\n\nGen came in and plopped down across from Kate at the table. \"Don't know yet. We've got a pretty good show lined up—a local abstract expressionist I'm really excited about—but we need something... else. Something more.\"\n\nKate sighed. \"I'm having that same problem. Althea wants boring. I don't want to do boring. We tried that last year.\"\n\n\"Ugh,\" Gen said. \"I remember. The pain is still fresh.\" Her expression brightened suddenly. \"Speaking of pain, I hear you ate the floor over at Jitters yesterday in front of Mr. Beautiful.\" She wiggled her eyebrows.\n\nKate grimaced. \"Word travels fast.\"\n\n\"It does. I also heard that he invited you to have a coffee with him.\"\n\nKate got up to take her cereal bowl to the sink. \"Did you also hear that he's like a lovesick puppy over his ex-wife?\"\n\nGen slumped a little in her chair. \"I heard that. Are you sure, though? I mean, maybe you misinterpreted things.\"\n\n\"He showed me her picture and cried.\"\n\nGen opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and looked at Kate. \"I have literally no way to spin that to make it sound okay.\"\n\nKate waved an arm dismissively. \"It doesn't matter. I could never be with a guy that good-looking anyway. I'd constantly feel all sad and frumpy in comparison.\"\n\nGen looked at her with sympathy. \"You're not sad and frumpy.\"\n\n\"No. I don't think I am. But I would _feel_ that way if I were dating a male supermodel. I'd look like me, like the Kate you're used to seeing, but I'd feel like that elf from Harry Potter. What's his name?\"\n\n\"Dobby,\" Gen supplied.\n\n\"Right. I'd feel like Dobby.\"\n\n\"Yeah. I get it.\" Gen sighed. \"I could probably manage it, myself.\"\n\nKate grinned. \"Hey, go for it. Next time we have a red alert, you can be the one to go sprawling all over the floor, see what happens.\"\n\n\"I'll have some knee and elbow pads ready, just in case.\" Gen frowned. \"Wait. That sounds kinky.\"\n\n\"It really does.\"\n\nKate looked at the clock, said, \"Oh, crap,\" shooed Gen out, and hurried in to get showered and ready for work. She considered her wardrobe options, wistfully looked at her single pair of high-heeled shoes, remembered the humiliation of the day before, and chose flats instead.\n\n\"Althea, we can't just do a book signing. Last year was awful. Do I have to remind you what it was like having to practically abduct people from the street and force them into the shop? I was doing favors for _months_ to pay people back.\"\n\nKate and Althea were sitting in the leather club chairs positioned in one corner of the store to give customers somewhere comfortable to read. The seating area was between the biographies and the military histories, just to the left of the diet books. It was an hour before opening, and Kate was holding a yellow legal pad on her lap, pen poised, ready to take notes should they come up with any brilliant ideas for the Art Walk. Which they hadn't yet.\n\n\"Yes, but book signings are what bookstores _do_ ,\" Althea insisted, not unreasonably. \"We just need to get a better author this time.\"\n\n\"That's where we went wrong,\" Kate mused. \"Todd Lansing _is_ a good author. He's just not a good speaker. Which we didn't know.\"\n\n\"Well, we do now.\" Althea shook her head sadly at the memory.\n\n\"I'll say.\"\n\nThe legal pad was still blank, its long, yellow pages mocking her.\n\nThey both turned at the rap on the front door. Kate peeked through the glass and saw Rose Watkins standing there with a square white plate in her hand. Kate opened the door, and Rose rushed in, already talking.\n\n\"You've got to try these. You too, Althea. Tell me what you think, and don't hold back. If these are crap, I've got to know now. Only six weeks until Art Walk! I'm doing a wine and small plate pairing, and these are supposed to go with the merlot, but jeez, I'm not sure. They might go better with a pinot noir, but Jackson says, no, go with the merlot. Here. Eat, eat!\"\n\nRose thrust the plate at them. The manager of De-Vine, the shop two doors down that offered wine tasting along with gourmet food items and various wine-related novelties, Rose was an unusual fit for the small-town atmosphere of Cambria. With her chin-length, purple hair, her nose and eyebrow piercings, and the rose tattoo that just peeked out above the neckline of her black T-shirt, she'd have been more at home in L.A. or New York City. The owner at De-Vine, an elderly woman who favored pink Lacoste polo shirts and pastel pleated slacks, had balked at first when Rose had applied for the job. But when she'd realized how much Rose really did know about wine—that Rose could tell the difference between a Napa cabernet sauvignon and one from Bordeaux simply by aroma—she'd decided that Rose's unconventional appearance was worth getting used to.\n\nKate peered at the plate and saw two ovals of bruschetta topped with a thin slice of Italian sausage and fennel. She reached out for one, and Rose yanked the plate back.\n\n\"Wait! Don't eat that! Just... wait!\" She put the plate on a side table and ran out the door and down the street toward the wine shop. Less than two minutes later she was back with two wine glasses in her hand, each bearing an ounce of deep red liquid.\n\nShe backed through the door because each hand held a glass, then spun and faced Kate and Althea. \"The wine! You've got to have it with the wine, obviously, or how will you know if Jackson is right about the pairing? Now, I'm not going to tell you which wine is which. Just try the wine and the app together.\" She stopped, presumably for air.\n\nKate took a bite of bruschetta, followed by a sip from one of the glasses. Then, at Rose's insistence, she took another bite, then a sip from the other glass.\n\nRose looked at her expectantly. \"Well? Which one do you like better?\"\n\nKate wasn't sure she liked either one better than the other—they were both delicious—so she pointed at the glass on the right. \"That one.\" Rose pumped a fist in the air in triumph.\n\n\"Okay. Althea, it's your turn.\"\n\nAlthea pursed her lips. \"I'm sorry, dear. I don't take wine.\" She said it in the same tone one might say, _I don't shoot heroin._\n\nAlthea reached out for the remaining piece of bruschetta, but Rose slapped her hand away. \"You can't have it if you're not going to try it with the wine. Sorry.\"\n\nShe picked up the plate and the two wine glasses and headed back out the door. \"Thanks, Kate!\"\n\nKate took a deep breath, locked the front door behind Rose, picked up her legal pad again, and turned to Althea, ready to regroup and resume brainstorming ideas for the Art Walk. She had just managed to utter the words, \"So, which authors... \" when Jackson Graham tried to barrel his way through the door of the bookstore, found it locked, and pounded on the glass.\n\nAlthea opened the door, and Jackson charged in with Rose close behind him. His face was red, and the white apron he wore around his waist was lightly smeared with some kind of sauce. \"Who's the idiot who wanted to pair the bruschetta with the pinot noir?\"\n\nKate opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and then said, eloquently, \"Uh... \" She was rendered speechless by her conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was intimidated by his obvious anger and disdain. On the other, she was immobilized by how absolutely steaming-hot sexy he was when he was mad. Which was most of the time.\n\n\"I guess... well... I suppose I'm the idiot,\" she said, raising her hand as though she were in second grade, waiting for the teacher to call on her but knowing she hadn't done her homework.\n\n\"She's not an idiot. She's right,\" Rose said.\n\nHe took one step back. \"Oh.\" He ran a hand through his wavy, chestnut hair. \"Well, look, I didn't mean... but, really. The pinot ?\"\n\nJackson was head chef at Neptune, Cambria's most upscale restaurant. Apparently, he was helping Rose create a tasting menu for the Art Walk event. Kate had known Jackson since he'd moved to town three years before—known him in a _wave to each other on the street, give my regards to your aunt_ kind of way. She might have gotten to know him better, but she was so often flustered by the man's tempest-like moods. The way he was looking at her now was hard to interpret. Was he personally offended by her choice of wine, or was he suffering from an annoying rash?\n\n\"I don't know anything about food and wine, except... you know, I eat. And sometimes drink. Rose told me to pick one, so I picked one.\"\n\nHe planted his hands on his hips. \"Well, you picked the wrong one.\"\n\nShe smiled at him sweetly. \"Well, Rose seemed to think I chose correctly, and she _is_ the prodigy.\"\n\n\"I am,\" Rose said helpfully.\n\nHe pointed a finger at Kate. \"Just because she knows wine doesn't mean she... Why the hell am I arguing about this with you?\" He stomped out of the store. Kate could practically see the steam rising from his ears. Rose winked at Kate and followed him.\n\n\"Well, he was certainly worked up,\" Kate told Althea after he'd left.\n\n\"Temperamental,\" Althea observed, her lips pressed into a judgmental line. \"But the man is a genius with seafood and field greens.\"\n\n# 3\n\n\"I can't believe I called her an idiot.\" Later that night, Jackson sat at the bar at Ted's with Daniel Reed, a local glass artist who had been his friend since Jackson had moved to Cambria three years earlier. Ted's, a somewhat rundown saloon that offered pool, darts, and occasional live music on the weekends, was well off of Main Street, so its clientele was mostly locals rather than the tourists who took over the town every summer. Jackson found tourists to be a necessary annoyance. They paid the bills, but that didn't mean he had to hang out with them during his down time.\n\nNow, Jackson took a deep drink from his beer bottle and ran a hand through his hair. \" 'Idiot.' That's what I said. _I'm_ the idiot. Obviously.\"\n\nDaniel nodded his head. \"Can't argue with that. At the very least, your skills with women could use some improvement.\"\n\nJackson groaned. \"Look. It's not like I'm _pining_ for her or anything.\"\n\n\"Right. You're not pining.\"\n\n\"Of course not.\"\n\n\"And since you're not pining, I'm sure she's got nothing to do with the fact that you haven't dated anyone seriously in three years.\"\n\nHe looked up at Daniel, surprised. \"That's not... I've dated. I've dated _a lot_.\"\n\n\"Sure, but it's been quantity, not quality.\" Daniel looked at Jackson with amusement in his hazel eyes. \"You haven't been serious about anyone in three years. Hmm. That's about when you met her, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\n\"I'm just saying.\"\n\n\"And I'm just saying you should shut your pie hole.\"\n\nDaniel raised his beer bottle to Jackson in mock salute. \"Those people skills, right there, are the ones that are going to win you that woman's heart, mark my words.\"\n\nJackson groaned again, and put his head on the bar. \"I'm screwed, aren't I?\"\n\n\"Yep. And not in a good way.\"\n\nThey sat in companionable silence for a while, Daniel drinking, Jackson wallowing in misery.\n\n\"What I don't get,\" Daniel said finally, \"is why you haven't made your move yet. You're single. She's single. You've had plenty of opportunity. Looks-wise, you're not completely repellent to women, probably. You're gainfully employed. What's the holdup?\"\n\nJackson lifted his head from the bar and took a drink from his Widmer Hefeweizen, which was almost gone. \"She wasn't single when I met her. She was married. And then she was going through a divorce, and I'm not stupid enough to get in the middle of _that._ And then...\"\n\n\"And then you were so used to adoring her from afar that you didn't know how to change the dynamic.\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"I guess.\"\n\n\"And then there's the other thing,\" Daniel said.\n\n\"What other thing?\"\n\n\"The thing where you're an ill-tempered pain in the ass, and when women figure that out, they tend to run away like their hair's on fire.\"\n\n\"They don't always run away.\"\n\n\"The smart ones do. The ones whose daddies treated them right, taught them to expect better.\"\n\nDaniel's assessment was so on-target it took Jackson's breath away. It also made him feel more hopeless than ever.\n\n\"Well, if I'm such an asshole, maybe I'd be doing her a favor to just forget the whole thing.\" Suddenly, he really needed another beer. He signaled for one from the bartender.\n\n\"Or, there's another alternative,\" Daniel offered.\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"Just stop being an asshole.\"\n\nJackson sighed deeply. \"Yeah. Like that's gonna happen.\"\n\n\"There's another wrinkle.\" Daniel waited expectantly for Jackson to ask.\n\n\"Yeah? And what might that be?\" He had to raise his voice to be heard over the music being played over the sound system and the loud, drunken chatter of the two guys at the pool table.\n\n\"I was over at the gallery yesterday and I heard Gen on the phone talking to Lacy over at Jitters. Seems Kate has decided she's ready to dip a toe back into the dating pool. The girls—Lacy, Gen, and Rose—have been trying to set her up with some guy staying over at the B&B on Washington Street. She had coffee with him.\" Daniel's eyebrows went up and down.\n\nJackson glared at him. \"From your face, I'd guess 'having coffee' is a euphemism. Please tell me it was real coffee and not... you know. Metaphorical coffee.\"\n\nDaniel barked out a laugh. \"It was real coffee. The good news is, I don't think it went all that well. The bad news is, this guy's apparently some kind of Greek god or Speedo model or something.\"\n\nJackson should have been comforted that it hadn't gone well, but he was unaccountably irritable, as though he had a layer of sand under his skin that no amount of scratching would relieve.\n\n\"Well, why the hell are they trying to fix her up with him? If the guy's at the B&B, he's not local, so it's not going to go anywhere.\"\n\nDaniel shrugged. \"I think that's part of the appeal.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well...\" He gestured with his beer bottle. \"It makes sense when you think about it. Maybe she's ready for _something_ , but she's not ready for a relationship. So she goes out with the guy, has some fun, he moves on, and now she's back in the game.\"\n\n\"Well, shit.\" He didn't want to think about her being _back in the game_ , unless he was one of the players.\n\n\"Yep.\" Daniel picked up his beer bottle and clinked it against Jackson's, which sat, ignored, on the bar. \"Seems to me she's not going to be the spinster book lady for much longer. Whatever you're gonna do, I'd say you'd better go ahead and do it.\"\n\nTwo days after the Jitters incident, one day after Jackson and Daniel deconstructed said incident at Ted's, Zach—the gorgeous hunk of man with the helpless longing for his ex-wife—came into Kate's bookstore. It was midafternoon, Althea had gone home for the day, and Kate had her head bent over a stack of invoices and an Excel spreadsheet when the bell on the front door started jingling merrily. At first, she didn't look up.\n\n\"Welcome to Swept Away,\" she said automatically, her eyes still on her calculations. \"Romance is half off. Please let me know if there's anything I can help you find.\"\n\nHis voice was deep and sensuous when he answered. \"Hi, Kate. I like your place.\"\n\nKate looked up in surprise. \"Oh! Zach! It's nice to see you again. How's your vacation so far?\"\n\n\"Well, a little lonely, to be honest. I was wondering if you could help me with that.\"\n\nWas it her imagination, or was there something suggestive in his words? He meant books, surely. He wanted her to liven up his vacation by helping him to find some good reading.\n\n\"Um... What kind of genre were you looking for?\"\n\n\"Genre?\" He looked confused. Not a good sign.\n\n\"Action, suspense? Crime? Historical fiction? I've got some really great new releases.\" She came out from behind the counter and started to lead him to the New Fiction section. \"What do you usually like to read?\"\n\n\"Well.\" He rubbed a hand over the ridiculously sexy stubble on his chin. \"I'm not much of a reader, actually. I'm more of an active guy. Hiking. Skiing. That sort of thing.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Kate felt a kind of punch in the gut whenever someone told her they didn't read. How was it possible that someone didn't enjoy reading? That was like saying _I don't enjoy breathing_. It just didn't make sense.\n\n\"Actually, I...\" He chuckled. \"I'm trying to get up my courage, here. I came to see you.\"\n\n\"Me?\"\n\n\"I was wondering if I could take you to dinner. They say Neptune's good. But I'm sure you've been there hundreds of times, since you live here and all.\"\n\nKate stood there with a book in her hand, looking at Zach, trying to hide her surprise. After their disastrous meeting at Jitters, she'd assumed he'd go back to wherever he lived and she'd never see him again. He was tall and muscular, with dark, thick hair and eyes like she'd seen on the does that grazed in her backyard. He was wearing a pair of faded Levi's that fit like they'd been made for him, and a muscle-hugging black T-shirt that showed just how devoted he must have been to his gym routine. His obvious heartbreak over his divorce notwithstanding, she should have been excited at the prospect of an evening out with a man who was as physically magnificent as Zach. But all she could think was that she needed to apprise her friends of this latest development as quickly as possible. She thought it would probably be poor manners to whip out her cell phone and spread the news right in front of him.\n\n\"Well, this is unexpected,\" she said, stalling for time. \"And you've heard right; Neptune is excellent. The head chef is a friend of mine. Well... _friend_ might be too strong a word.\"\n\n\"So, what do you say?\" he asked.\n\nShe hesitated. \"I'd have thought...\"\n\n\"Thought what?\"\n\nShe might as well just say it. \"I'd have thought that you wouldn't be looking to date anyone, since you're still in love with your ex.\"\n\nHe nodded his head and avoided her gaze. Then he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and looked at his shoes. \"Yeah. I just... I just thought it would be nice. I liked talking to you at the coffee place. It was good having someone to listen. I thought maybe we could talk some more, over dinner.\"\n\nShe didn't know what to do, what to say. More than thirty years of female programming had conditioned her never to refuse a date with someone who looked like this. But instinct—informed by the memory of him getting misty-eyed over the photo of his ex—told her to flee like a bunny from a cheetah.\n\n\"Let me check my schedule over the next few days and give you a call. Would that be all right?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" He pulled a business card from his wallet—Zach Lockwood, Realtor—and handed it over. \"It's got my cell and my email. Let me know.\" Then he smiled at her. The smile, all white teeth and sincerity, definitely worked in his favor.\n\nThe minute he was out the door, Kate rushed into the back room to get her cell phone out of her purse. On red alert overload, she didn't know who to call first. She decided it should be Lacy, since she'd orchestrated their meeting at Jitters in the first place.\n\n\"Red alert! Red alert!\" Kate announced into the phone as soon as Lacy picked up.\n\n\"Oh my God! Where?\"\n\n\"Here! In the store!\"\n\n\"Right now?\"\n\n\"No! A few minutes ago! Well, since he's gone now, I guess it's not a red alert anymore. More pink.\"\n\n\"Well, what's the point of a red alert if he's not there anymore? The whole red alert system...\"\n\n\"He asked me out,\" Kate interrupted.\n\nLacy's end of the line was silent.\n\n\"Lacy?\"\n\n\"What did you tell him?\"\n\n\"I said I'd check my schedule and get back to him.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\"\n\n\" 'Hmm' what? What's the 'hmm'?\"\n\n\"We need a meeting.\"\n\n\"I can't have a meeting right now. Althea's not here. I'm alone in the store.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\"\n\n\"Again with the 'hmm.' \"\n\nLacy ignored that. \"I'll call the girls and set up a plan. Call you back.\"\n\nLacy called Gen, and Gen called Rose, and both of them called Kate, and when everyone had hashed out their work schedules and evening plans, they all agreed to meet at Kate's house at seven p.m. Lacy would bring the Chinese food. Rose, of course, would bring the wine.\n\nKate reflected briefly on the sorry state of her love life that it required committee meetings. Did Gwyneth Paltrow need a committee to decide whether she should \"consciously uncouple\" with Chris Martin? Probably not. But then, she was Gwyneth. Kate was just Kate. And any excuse was a good one to get together with her friends.\n\n# 4\n\n\"He's hung up on his ex. He's a tourist, which means he's leaving soon. And he _doesn't read_.\" Kate held up three fingers, ticking off the reasons she should say no. The four of them had pulled her small dining table out onto the back deck, and they were eating moo shu chicken, egg rolls, and sweet and sour pork as the sun dipped toward the ocean. Rose had selected a German Riesling, and they were most of the way through the first bottle, with a light breeze on their faces and the sound of crashing waves in the background.\n\n\"But, God, there's his looks,\" Gen said. A stray strand of curly red hair had fallen into her face with the breeze, and she pushed it away as she took another sip of wine.\n\n\"Yes. The looks count for at least three items on the plus side,\" Rose said before crunching into an egg roll.\n\n\"Also on the plus side,\" Lacy said, \"is the fact that you need practice.\"\n\nKate lifted an eyebrow. \"Practice?\"\n\n\"You really do,\" Rose said, pointing one black-lacquered fingernail at Kate. \"You haven't dated anybody since Marcus. And that was, what? Two years ago?\"\n\nMarcus Hoffman, Kate's husband for six years, had been a cheater and a manipulator. When he'd finally left, it had been more a relief to Kate than a trauma. But the way he'd treated her for their entire marriage had left her so wounded that she hadn't even been able to think about men until recently. When she'd told her friends that maybe—not for sure, but _maybe_ —she might be ready to get out there again, they'd thrown themselves into the task of shoving the baby bird out of the nest.\n\n\"Yes, I have!\" Kate demanded. \"I've dated!\"\n\n\"Okay. Name them. Who have you gone out with since Marcus?\" Gen asked.\n\n\"I... Well...\" Kate put up her hands in surrender. \"Okay, maybe I haven't dated much since Marcus. But I know how to date.\"\n\n\"Of course you do, honey,\" Lacy said soothingly, putting a hand on Kate's arm. \"But you might be a little rusty, that's all.\"\n\nKate stalled by shoveling some more sweet and sour onto her plate and opening the second bottle of Riesling. After she'd poured some into her glass and offered it to the others, she sighed. \"So, what we're saying, then, is that Zach could be, what, a refresher course? Fine. But isn't that kind of unfair to him? If I know it's not going anywhere, isn't it wrong for me to use him for practice?\"\n\n\"No! That's the beauty of the situation!\" Rose insisted. \"He's going home in a few days, and he's in love with someone else, so he's not planning on it going anywhere anyway!\"\n\nKate considered this. \"Well, I guess that's true.\"\n\n\"Look, you're not out to marry him,\" Rose said as she arranged a delicate moo shu pancake on her plate. \"But if you get a nice dinner at Neptune while enjoying a little eye candy, what's the harm?\"\n\nDespite the unassailable logic of their arguments, Kate stared into her wine glass and felt glum. \"If this is such a great idea, why don't one of you go out with him?\"\n\n\"He didn't ask us,\" Gen said. \"He asked you.\"\n\n\"Well.\"\n\n\"You're going,\" Lacy announced, as though the decision had been hers to make all along. \"And then we'll have a post-game debriefing after.\"\n\nRose sighed. \"I love a good post-game debriefing. Especially if we get to talk about sex.\"\n\nKate pointed at her. \"We _won't_ be talking about sex. There won't be any sex to talk about. It's a first date. And probably the only one with this guy. Jeez.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Rose seemed to deflate slightly. \"Well, maybe we can just talk about sex in general.\"\n\n\"Sure, honey.\" Kate rubbed her arm. \"We can do that.\"\n\nKate and Zach met at Neptune at seven p.m. on a Wednesday. Gen had insisted on coming up from her downstairs apartment to help Kate dress for the occasion. She was wearing a silky knee-length slip dress in royal blue with a pair of low-heeled silver sandals. Her dark hair was carefully styled, and the color of the dress brought out the intense blue of her eyes. When she'd finished dressing, Gen had sat back, sighed, and said she looked stunning.\n\nWhen she walked into Neptune and saw Zach sitting at the bar waiting for her, she had to admit that Gen's choices might have been effective. The look on his face when he took in the sight of her—the way his gaze traveled over every inch of her—suggested that she'd achieved the desired effect.\n\nFalling on her face the first time they'd met might have been good strategy, but she didn't think it would play as well a second time, so she was glad she'd chosen shoes that were attractive but more sensible.\n\n\"Kate,\" he said, standing to meet her. \"You look gorgeous.\"\n\n_So do you,_ she thought. He was wearing a black dress shirt, open at the collar, and black slacks. He was sporting a day or two worth of stubble that gave him a rugged look, as though he'd just come from a day of rock climbing. His dark eyes and chiseled jaw could have come straight out of a _GQ_ ad. Other women in the restaurant were stealing covert looks at him. Some were less covert than others.\n\nHe put a hand on her arm. \"Shall we get our table?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nHe flagged the hostess, an acquaintance of Kate's from her Thursday yoga class. Janie, a tall blonde who proved to be far more strong and flexible than Kate when performing everything from downward dog to the side plank, took them to a table in the center of the room.\n\n\"You look fabulous, Kate,\" Janie said as she seated them and placed menus in front of them.\n\n\"Thanks.\" Kate accepted a menu and got settled into her chair. \"It's no thanks to yoga, though. I've missed class the past couple of weeks.\"\n\n\"You should come back,\" Janie said. As she talked to Kate, her eyes kept cutting toward Zach and the way he looked in a close-fitting shirt. \"We've got a new instructor, and she's really good.\"\n\n\"I will.\"\n\n\"I'll tell Jackson you're here. Enjoy your meal!\"\n\nJanie swept off to attend to other customers before Kate could protest. She did _not_ want Jackson Graham to know she was here. That's all she needed while on a date—to have him come out and grouse over her choice of wine, or which appetizer she chose to precede which main course. The man thought he was the only one qualified to _eat._\n\nAnd maybe that wasn't the only reason she would prefer for him to stay safely tucked away in the kitchen. If he came out here to say hello, her female hormones might implode over having both him and Zach in such close proximity. Zach, with his movie star looks, and Jackson, with his—well, everything.\n\nShe was in her own world pondering this when she realized Zach was saying something.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I was distracted. What was that?\"\n\n\"I was asking, who's Jackson?\"\n\n\"Oh, he's the head chef. Jackson Graham.\"\n\n\"And how do you know him?\"\n\nKate arranged the menu in front of her. \"It's a small town. Everybody knows everybody.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\nThe waitress—someone Kate also knew, but not well enough to force the need for small talk—came to take their drink order. Zach chose a bottle of wine without asking Kate's opinion. To her horror, it was a white zinfandel. She personally didn't mind drinking white zin, but she knew without a doubt that if Jackson came out to their table to say a friendly hello, there'd be hell to pay. Jackson placed white zinfandel on the same level of taste and sophistication as Red Bull or cherry Kool-Aid, and she knew from her conversations with Rose that he strenuously protested its presence on the Neptune wine menu at all. Well, at least if he came out here spitting fire, she'd be able to say that Zach chose it. The results might be fun. She smiled privately at the thought.\n\nThey studied the menu, placed their orders—porterhouse steak for him and sea bass for her—and settled in to begin the excruciating ritual of first-date small talk.\n\n\"So, Zach, how long are you staying in Cambria?\" Kate sipped at her wine, reflecting that she would have preferred a nice chardonnay.\n\n\"Oh, I've gone home already.\"\n\nShe raised her eyebrows at this, surprised. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes. I was only at the B&B for a few days. I came back to see you. I live in San Luis Obispo. Less than an hour on Highway 1, and here I am.\"\n\nTaken aback, Kate said, \"Oh.\"\n\n\"Look,\" he said. \"I know I talked a lot about Sherry when we met before. But I really think it's time for me to move on. And I'm very attracted to you.\"\n\nSuddenly, everything Kate had assumed about this date was no longer true. This... whatever it was didn't have a built-in expiration. He lived close enough to Cambria that a relationship was on the table, if they wanted it. Which she did not. He didn't read, he ordered white zinfandel—and there was also the ex-wife thing. Why was she even here? Then she looked up at his face, which appeared to have been chiseled out of marble. _Oh, right. That's why._ Was she really one of those people who went out with someone just because of their looks? Not entirely. She was here partly because her friends had insisted on it. And they were right about one thing. She did need practice with men.\n\n_It's just dinner. It's practice._\n\nStill, she felt a bit smarmy. Was she using him as arm candy? Was she just like the popular guys she knew in high school who were interested in girls only because of nice hair and a good pair of breasts?\n\n_Okay, I am not interested in him for his breasts._ She felt a hysterical laugh start to bubble up, so she drowned it in white zinfandel.\n\n\"What are you thinking?\" he asked. \"Seems like you've got a lot going on in there.\" He pointed to his own temple.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I'm thinking about the store,\" she said, covering. \"Sales have been down, and we've got a big event coming up that could give us a much-needed boost if I handle it right. I can't screw it up.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, the Art Walk,\" he said.\n\n\"Right. The thing is, it's kind of turned into a competition. The shop with the most impressive Art Walk event gets bragging rights for the whole year. It's gotten bigger and bigger every year. It's silly, but...\"\n\n\"You want to win.\"\n\nShe laughed. \"Yeah. I really do.\"\n\n\"It's like real estate,\" he said.\n\n\"Really? How so?\"\n\nHe explained. He began explaining before the entrees arrived, he continued explaining after their plates were placed on the table, and he explained some more as they ate. Kate was halfway through her sea bass while he was still explaining. She suddenly remembered why real estate agents had such a reputation for being blowhards. He told her about his biggest sales, his sales average, how that compared to the sales averages of other Realtors in San Luis Obispo, his strategy during an open house, his strategies for staging, and his philosophies on how to select a client to work with. By the time he got to, \"... and the way I look doesn't hurt,\" Kate was ready to climb out the bathroom window.\n\nShe didn't enjoy rejecting men—he didn't seem like a bad guy, after all—but it was clear this wasn't the man for her, even for a fling. She decided to steer the conversation in a direction that might give her a clear way out.\n\n\"So, tell me more about your ex-wife.\"\n\nHis face changed, going from arrogant know-it-all to vulnerable child, and Kate hurt for him. \"You don't want to talk about her, do you?\" he said.\n\n\"Well, I just... Back at the store, you said you might need someone to talk to.\"\n\nSo he did. He began with how they'd met, then proceeded with their courtship, wedding, and early years together. By the time he got teary-eyed over the tale of their breakup, Kate was no longer thinking of it as a date. She was thinking of it as somebody comforting a broken-hearted friend. And she was a hell of a lot better at that than she was at dating.\n\nJackson Graham was in the middle of bitching out the salad chef for a wilted piece of red leaf lettuce when Janie breezed by, mentioning that Kate Bennet was in the restaurant with a date.\n\nThe information filtered into his brain in stages. The mention of the name—Kate Bennet—made his hands and feet tingle in a not unpleasant way. But then the next word to penetrate—date—made the blood pound in his ears so that he could no longer hear the excuses being made by the salad chef.\n\nHe wrapped up his diatribe with \"Just goddamned fix it,\" and the salad chef took the opportunity to get himself out of sight as quickly as possible.\n\n_Kate Bennet is here with some guy?_\n\nHe was torn between his need to see the guy and the impulse to simply throw himself into his work and pretend he'd never heard what Janie had said. When another waitress came into the kitchen and said some local muckety-muck wanted to give Jackson his compliments, he decided it was his opportunity to do a little sleuthing.\n\nNot that he cared what Kate Bennet did, or who she dated.\n\n_Oh, hell, who am I kidding?_\n\nHe took off an apron stained with Bearnaise sauce and stormed out of the kitchen in search of the muckety-muck. On his way to the man's table, he searched the dining room with his peripheral vision, and he saw her almost immediately. It was funny how that worked. His eyes were instantly drawn to her wherever she was in the room. He'd have found her if she'd been hiding in a closet, buried under a half-dozen blankets. Something about her energy drew his attention. It always had. It likely always would. The air around her buzzed with electricity, with light. It was impossible not to see her.\n\nThe first thing he noticed was that she looked beautiful. No surprise there. The second thing he noticed was that the asshole with her was insanely, stupidly handsome. He felt a surge of anger inside his cave-man brain, wanting to pound the guy into dust right next to Table Five. Since that would have been bad from a career standpoint, he shut down the part of his mind that was glaring red and proceeded to the muckety-muck's table to hear that his portobello risotto was genius. Which it was, obviously.\n\nHaving exchanged pleasantries with the local official, who was a city councilman or a county supervisor or some damned thing, he took a moment to weigh his options. He could skulk back to the kitchen and pretend he hadn't seen her. Or he could go by her table on the pretense of inquiring about her meal. At first he leaned toward skulking, but then he got mad at himself, thinking, _Why should I sneak around? This is my damned restaurant._\n\nAnd so, to spare himself the humiliation of sneaking on his own home territory, where if anyone should be sneaking, it should be _her_ , he took a deep breath, steeled his resolve, and strolled over to her table—it was a stroll rather than a skulk—and presented himself as though he were just doing his job.\n\n\"Kate.\" He smiled, though it felt strange as it was not his usual facial expression, and looked down at her. The next words he had planned to say fled from his brain like sparrows from a nest as he saw how she looked. \"Uh... I... wow.\"\n\n\"Hello, Jackson.\"\n\nShe was looking at him expectantly, and he realized he was supposed to say something. \"I... um... Janie told me you were here, and I wanted to check and make sure everything was satisfactory.\"\n\n\"It is. The sea bass is delicious.\" She smiled, and he felt the smile like warm honey spreading through his chest.\n\nHe turned to the date and extended his hand. \"Jackson Graham. Head chef.\"\n\n\"Zach Lockwood. Kate mentioned you. The food is great.\"\n\nKate added, \"Zach has really been enjoying this bottle of white zinfandel with his porterhouse steak.\"\n\n_White goddamned zinfandel? With a goddamned steak?_ There were no words. Such an offense against taste and reason called for violence, but again, there were career concerns to consider. Speechless and outraged, he looked toward Kate, and saw that she was smirking at him, a delicate hand shielding her mouth as she tried to suppress a giggle.\n\nShe was playing with him, a state of affairs he would have welcomed under different circumstances.\n\nHe took a deep breath and called upon his inner calm.\n\n\"You know,\" he said, turning toward Zach and gesturing toward the bottle on the table, \"this isn't one of our better wines. Please allow me to send something out to you as my gift.\"\n\n\"Thanks—that's really nice—but we're enjoying this. Right, Kate?\" Zach looked to her for affirmation.\n\nKate's mirth was barely suppressed. \"Oh, yes. It pairs so well with everything. Steak, sea bass... Wouldn't you agree, Jackson?\"\n\nHe felt much like a cartoon character in the moment before the pig or frog or whatever turns bright red and flies into the air and steam comes pouring out its ears. This was probably why Neptune's owner had urged him repeatedly to stay in the kitchen where he belonged.\n\n\"So, have you got a house here in Cambria?\" Zach asked.\n\n\"Uh... I live in an apartment above the restaurant, actually. Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"Zach's a Realtor,\" Kate added helpfully, the amusement in her eyes telling him that this, right here—this painful exchange—was far and away the best part of her night.\n\n\"Here, take my card.\" Zach thrust a business card toward Jackson. \"You know, you really should consider buying. It's been proven time and again that real estate is an excellent investment. Despite the ups and downs, over time, it's the safest place to put your money. Now, Cambria's a pricey area, no question, but there are still some good bargains if you don't mind being a little bit away from the beach. Also, if you don't mind doing a little fixer-upper work—a little DIY, am I right?—then that increases the range of what you can get for your money. You really ought to let me...\"\n\nHe was still going on when Jackson mentally flailed around for an escape. \"Zach, I hate to interrupt, but I have to get back to work. I don't want to let the kitchen staff get backed up.\"\n\nZach looked around at the abundance of empty tables. \"Not too busy tonight, a weeknight and all, I'd have thought you...\"\n\n\"Enjoy your meal!\" he said, and hurried back to the relative safety of the kitchen without waiting for a response.\n\n_Holy hell._\n\nHe went back to work, only partly focused on what he was doing. As he simmered and sautéed and corrected the inevitable errors of his staff, he kept peeking out at the dining room to see what Kate and Gorgeous George were doing. When he caught a glimpse of her heading toward the ladies' room, he handed off what he was doing to an underling, slipped out the door into the dining room, grabbed Kate by the arm, and pulled her into the hallway that led to the restrooms, away from Zach's line of sight.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" Kate said, reclaiming her arm.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing with that guy? He's a stiff.\" Up close and standing beside him, she was even more beautiful tonight than he'd realized. Her eyes were hypnotic. He tried to focus on his line of thought.\n\n\"What am I doing? I'm on a date. I'm an adult, single woman. I date.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but _him_?\" He noticed her smell, and it threw him off. She smelled of jasmine and warm, clean skin. It almost made his knees weak.\n\n\"Is this because of the white zinfandel?\" Her lips quirked up into a grin, and he couldn't help it—he had to laugh.\n\n\"You did that to me on purpose.\"\n\n\"Well, he did choose the wine on his own, with no prompting. But I maybe did poke at you a little. For fun.\"\n\nBack to the topic at hand. \"Listen, what do you want with that guy? He's a Realtor, for chrissakes.\"\n\nThey gazed at each other, an electricity building between them.\n\n\"Jackson?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\" He almost couldn't find his voice.\n\n\"I really do need to visit the ladies' room, if you don't mind.\"\n\n\"What? Oh.\" He backed off and let her go. When she was gone, he peeked into the dining room, and looked at the guy, this Zach.\n\n_Christ._\n\n# 5\n\nThe post-game analysis took place two days later as the four women walked together at Fiscalini Ranch, a nature preserve with paths that meandered along the bluffs above the rugged, crashing surf. Golden, wild grasses swished in the wind amid wildflowers of yellow and purple. Below them, sea lions reclined on rocks, barking and occasionally scuffling with one another. Some tourists wandered the paths here and there, their cameras on straps around their necks, but mostly this area was for the locals. The early morning sky was clear and dazzling, and a light breeze touched their faces as they walked.\n\nNone of their shops opened before ten, except Jitters. But Lacy had the late shift today, so after a flurry of phone calls back and forth, the scheduling for their walk was worked out with relative ease.\n\n\"So, really no question that he's hung up on his ex, huh?\" Gen asked as they climbed a hilly path, squirrels scurrying out of their way.\n\n\"Oh, that's been established.\" Kate arranged her wide-brimmed hat to shield her face from the sun. \"The whole last half of the date was him pining over her. Really, I felt bad for the guy. I mean, breakups are hard. I know that as well as anybody. He's trying to get out there and move on, but... he's not ready. Even he knows he's not ready.\"\n\n\"Well, that sucks.\" Lacy, in yoga pants, a tank top, and a baseball cap, looked at Kate in sympathy.\n\n\"It's fine. From my end, anyway, it's fine,\" Kate assured her. \"This was just practice, remember? It was never going to work. He wasn't right for me.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"At least you got a good meal at Neptune, though, right?\" Rose tried to inject some optimism into the discussion.\n\n\"I did.\"\n\n\"What did you have?\"\n\n\"Sea bass.\"\n\n\"Mmm.\" Rose made appreciative noises that one usually heard only during sex. \"That's one of my favorites.\" After a moment, she added, \"Jackson says he saw you there.\"\n\nRose and Jackson were friends, partly because he ordered wines for the restaurant from De-Vine, so the two consulted regularly. Over time, Rose had grown fond of the prickly chef, finding that his frequent fits of pique came mostly from a desire for excellence. She could admire that.\n\nKate giggled, remembering the evening. \"Oh, he saw us, all right. I'm sure he mentioned the white zinfandel.\"\n\n\"Ugh, white zinfandel?\" Gen wrinkled her pale, freckled nose. \"Even I know that's a no-go, especially to him.\"\n\n\"Zach ordered it. Jackson saw the wine and I could see that he wanted to throw a fit. It was all he could do to contain himself. I might have poked at him a little bit.\"\n\n\"He said you poked.\" Rose shook her head with a wry smile. \"Brave woman.\"\n\n\"But that wasn't the funny part,\" Kate said. \"Well, yes, it was the funny part, in terms of amusing funny. But it wasn't the strange part.\"\n\n\"What was the strange part?\" Lacy asked. Kate assumed Lacy was looking at her with interest, though it was hard to tell with Lacy's enormous sunglasses.\n\n\"Here, let's take a break,\" Kate suggested. They stopped at a bench crafted from driftwood that was positioned above a breathtaking view of the surf. They sat, and she continued. \"The strange part was that Jackson pulled me aside when I was on my way to the bathroom, and he seemed really worked up. Even for Jackson.\"\n\n\"About the wine?\" Rose asked.\n\n\"No. About Zach. He went all alpha male on me. 'What are you doing with that guy?' 'That guy's a stiff.' 'Why are you dating him?' I mean, it's not like it's any of his business. Yes, it's true that Zach did try to sell him real estate. But still.\"\n\nRose looked thoughtful. \"Hmm.\"\n\n\" 'Hmm' what?\" Kate demanded.\n\n\"Just hmm.\"\n\n\"I think what Rose is trying to say,\" Lacy broke in, \"is, have you thought about Jackson?\"\n\n\"What do you mean, have I thought about Jackson? Of course I've thought about him. I'm thinking about him right now. We're talking about him.\"\n\nRose raised one eyebrow. \"No. I mean, have you _thought_ about him?\"\n\n\"Huh.\" Gen appeared to be in deep thought. \"Now, that could be interesting.\"\n\n\"What are you two talking about?\" Kate demanded.\n\nLacy said, \"You have to admit, Kate, it sounds like he's interested in you. Why else would he have cared that you were dating a guy who looks like... well, like Zach? When guys ask, 'Why are you with him?' what they really mean is, 'Why aren't you with me?' \"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Gen nodded. \"They do.\"\n\nKate felt a little jolt in the center of her chest at the idea that Jackson Graham might possibly be attracted to her. She shrugged in a way that was supposed to be casual. \"Oh, come on. He's never been anything but... irritable when he's around me. That's the word,\" she decided. \"Irritable. Last time I talked to him before Neptune, he called me an idiot.\"\n\nRose shook her head. \"No, that's not how I remember it at all.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Kate said.\n\n\"The way I remember it, he _accidentally_ called you an idiot, and then when he realized what he'd done, he looked like he'd swallowed his tongue.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's interesting,\" Lacy interjected.\n\n\"No,\" Kate said. \"It's not interesting. I mean, yes, he's somewhat attractive, if you like broad shoulders and thick, wavy hair, and... and raw male magnetism. But he's slept with pretty much everybody in Cambria. I mean, the man has a reputation. I don't know if I want to deal with that.\"\n\n\"At least he hasn't slept with any of us,\" Lacy said.\n\nRose looked uncomfortable. \"Well...\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" Kate said. \"You had sex with Jackson?\"\n\n\"No,\" Rose said. \"No, no. But there was some making out. And there might have been some groping. Okay, a lot of groping.\"\n\n\"Well, then I definitely can't go there,\" Kate said.\n\n\"Sure you can,\" Rose reassured her. \"Look, it was nothing. We fooled around a little, then we decided we were better as friends. I don't have any lingering feelings, or resentment, or anything like that. We're good.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Kate realized that she'd felt an ugly surge of jealousy at the thought that Jackson had been with her friend. Rose's explanation made her feel a bit better.\n\n\"Really,\" Rose said.\n\n\"You and Jackson,\" Gen mused. \"Wow. I hadn't thought of that, but... yeah. Wow.\"\n\nKate waved her hands around in front of her. \"There is no 'me and Jackson.' There is no 'wow.' \"\n\n\"Well.\" Rose sounded thoughtful. \"There could be a wow.\"\n\nJackson and Daniel were playing basketball at Shamel Park, an expanse of lawn, playground equipment, a few sports fields, and a public pool adjacent to the beach. They'd called two friends to make it more interesting than one-on-one: Ryan Delaney, whose cattle ranch provided grass-fed beef for Neptune, was on Jackson's team, and Will Bachman, caretaker for a mansion just up the coast, was on Daniel's.\n\nJackson and Ryan had lost the coin toss for who'd keep their shirts on, so now their bare torsos glistened with sweat as they played. This displayed Ryan to a certain advantage, since his tanned, fit physique was drawing appreciative glances from women at the park. Jackson, on the other hand, wished he could just put his damned T-shirt back on. With his fair coloring and the fact that he was at the restaurant almost every waking hour, his skin was so pale it practically glowed. He'd had to slather himself with 50 SPF before even thinking about starting the game. To add to the hilarity, the other guys had taken to calling him \"Casper.\" At least he hadn't let himself go like a lot of chefs did, being around food all the time. He usually made it to the gym, and he constantly reminded himself—with some success—that his job was to cook it, not to eat it. So he'd have looked pretty good if he hadn't been so goddamned _white._\n\nLike he could give a shit what the girls at the park thought of him, anyway. He wished he did. But despite all his best efforts, the only woman whose opinion he cared about was dating a Realtor-slash-supermodel. The thought of that made him want to bash somebody's head in. Preferably, the Realtor supermodel's. But since he couldn't do that, he played with unusual ferocity instead. This didn't escape the notice of Daniel and Will, who'd been shoved, elbowed, and generally abused during the course of the game and were starting to feel a little put out about it.\n\n\"Hey, Casper, take it easy. This isn't the NBA,\" Will said after taking a forearm to the face.\n\nJackson, breathing heavily, wiped the sweat from his face. \"Sorry.\" And he was. He wasn't roughing people up on purpose. He was just... getting in there a little bit more than usual. And, hell, it was working. At the end of the game, they were up six points, mostly because of Ryan, who'd played varsity basketball in high school.\n\n\"What's got you all worked up?\" Daniel asked after the game ended and they were toweling off and drinking deeply from bottles of water. The four of them walked toward some nearby benches, still breathing heavily.\n\n\"Nothing,\" Jackson insisted.\n\n\"Bullshit,\" Ryan said. \"After that last foul, I thought we were gonna have to call 911 for Daniel.\"\n\nJackson threw his towel onto the bench. \"Ah, shit.\"\n\n\"So, what is it?\"\n\nHe peered at the others, hesitated, and then decided he had to talk to someone. \"She came into Neptune a couple nights ago with a guy. This...\" He gestured vaguely. \"This _guy_ who sells real estate and orders crap wine and looks like this goddamned Adonis. I guess it's been bothering me.\"\n\n\"We're talking about Kate,\" Daniel said.\n\nJackson was annoyed. \"Of _course_ we're goddamned talking about Kate. I'll tell you what. I've got to get past this... this _thing_ I have for her. I oughta find somebody new to go out with. Have some fun. Get my mind off her.\"\n\nRyan shook his head. \"You asshole.\"\n\nJackson blinked at him, surprised. \"What? Why am I an asshole?\"\n\n\"Because it's never once occurred to you that one way to deal with the feelings you have for her is to go out with _her_.\"\n\n\"Ah, that's just... \"\n\n\"True,\" Daniel interjected. \"That's what it is.\"\n\nJackson ran a hand irritably through his hair. \"Yeah. I guess it is.\"\n\n\"Look. I get it,\" Daniel went on. \"At least, I think I do. Your last few relationships haven't worked out... \"\n\n\"That's an understatement.\"\n\n\"... So you've stopped trying. Especially when it's someone who matters to you.\"\n\nThey sat on a bench drinking water and cooling down, watching some moms pushing their toddlers on the swings.\n\n\"If it's just somebody to date—some pretty face—then it doesn't matter if she gets tired of your bad moods and your diatribes and moves on sooner rather than later. But when it's Kate... \" Daniel left the thought dangling in the air.\n\n\"Thank you, Dr. Freud,\" Jackson said wryly.\n\n\"Just ask her out,\" Will insisted. \"Stop being a wuss.\"\n\nThey were silent for a moment while Jackson pulled his shirt back on. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, avoiding Daniel's gaze.\n\n\"Let's say I want to,\" he said finally.\n\n\"Okay, let's say that,\" Daniel said.\n\n\"Why the hell would she ever say yes? Every time she sees me I'm yelling at her or calling her an idiot.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you might want to stop doing that,\" Ryan said.\n\nSome kids with a big, red rubber ball accidentally kicked it toward the bench. Daniel scooped it up and tossed it back to the kids, who ran off to resume their game.\n\n\"You know what you need?\" Daniel said after a while.\n\n\"Yes,\" Jackson answered. \"But no one's invented personality transplants yet.\"\n\n\"Very funny. Seriously. You need an icebreaker.\"\n\nJackson looked at Daniel. \"An icebreaker?\"\n\n\"Yeah. He's right,\" Ryan said. \"You need to be around her in some sort of casual setting, without yelling at her or calling her an idiot. Act like a guy with manners for a change. Let her see the other side of you.\"\n\nJackson scoffed. \"I don't know if I have another side. And anyway, what makes you guys experts? Last time I checked, Ryan, you hadn't done even one thing to get closer to Lacy. Besides making moony eyes at her, and that doesn't count.\"\n\nLacy, who'd lived in Cambria her entire life with her parents and her extended family right there in town, was tall, blond, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. The fact that she was more comfortable in a pair of frayed, faded jeans and a T-shirt than she was in a little black dress made her all the more attractive to Ryan, who was used to life on a cattle ranch, where expensive clothes just seemed frivolous and stupid. He was crazy about her.\n\nThe muscles in Ryan's jaw bunched up. \"Let's not talk about Lacy.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because we're talking about you.\"\n\nThe conversation was getting entirely too touchy-feely for Jackson, but on the other hand, his friends were right—he had to do something if he was ever going to get anywhere with Kate. It wasn't going to happen on its own.\n\n\"So, this 'icebreaker' idea.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\" Daniel said.\n\n\"How would it work? What would I do? What's the plan, geniuses?\"\n\nDaniel grinned and nudged Jackson with his shoulder. \"Give me a day or two to think about it.\"\n\n# 6\n\nKate got off the phone with Zach and sighed. She was sitting in her pajamas, cross-legged on her sofa with a glass of wine (not white zinfandel) on the table beside her. She and Zach had decided that dating wasn't right for them—they'd never make a good couple—but once he'd started talking to her about his ex-wife, Sherry, he'd found it difficult to stop. He'd been calling her almost nightly to talk about his heartbreak, and to ask for Kate's advice.\n\nShe really did feel bad for the guy. It seemed that his problems with Sherry came down to issues with communication, priorities, and timing. She wanted children. He wanted them, but not yet. He wanted to build his career and put together a nest egg for the family they'd eventually have. She wanted him to spend less time working and more time at home. She wanted to go back to school and get the college degree she'd missed out on the first time around. He thought the reason she wanted it was because she didn't trust him to provide for her. He used his looks to advantage in his work, flirting with female clients to get a listing or make a sale. And Sherry was a jealous woman who didn't appreciate that particular strategy.\n\nTo Kate, it seemed like the problems were not insurmountable, especially knowing how much Zach wanted to win Sherry back. If they would only take some time to talk about things. To be together without distractions and discuss what they both wanted out of the relationship.\n\nSuddenly, Kate had an idea—a crazy matchmaking idea. In general, she didn't believe in people getting involved in other people's love lives. But on the other hand, she also didn't want to be Zach's over-the-phone therapy buddy for the rest of her life. She felt bad for him and she wanted to help him, but his calls were seriously cutting into time she could have spent eating Ben & Jerry's and watching Netflix.\n\nInspired, she went out the front door, made a right, hurried down the stairs, and pounded on Gen's door.\n\n\"What? I'm coming! Hold on!\" Gen called from inside the apartment.\n\nWhen the door opened, Gen looked at her with squinty eyes.\n\n\"What's going on? Is the house on fire?\"\n\nKate pushed her way into the tiny kitchenette, then on into the bedroom-slash-sitting room. Right now, it was set up as a bedroom, with the pull-out sofa made up into a queen-size bed with springs and bars that poked the crap out of your back whenever you slept on it. For some reason, Gen didn't seem to mind the arrangement.\n\n\"I just need your opinion on something,\" Kate said, plopping onto the bed.\n\n\"Okay, shoot.\"\n\nGen looked bleary-eyed. Maybe she'd been sleeping. _Already?_ Kate glanced at the clock on the mantel and was surprised to find that it was past eleven o'clock.\n\n\"I have to get Zach back together with his ex.\"\n\n\"Tonight?\"\n\n\"No, but soon. The sooner the better.\"\n\n\"And you need my opinion on that?\" Gen wandered into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and brought it into the bedroom.\n\n\"Not exactly. I need your opinion on how I'm going to do it.\"\n\n\"Oh. Okay. Just let me... \" She rubbed at her face vigorously, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes wide. A waking-up ritual. \"All right. Ready.\" She plopped down on the bed next to Kate.\n\n\"What if I set up a romantic evening for them?\" She held up her hands to forestall the objection she thought was coming. \"Just wait. Listen. What if I had him invite her to my place for an evening? I won't be there, of course. Obviously. But we could set up dinner on the deck at sunset, with music and some great food. Candlelight. Nice table linens. The whole deal. They can even stay the night. I'll set up the bedroom with rose petals and champagne and... and... okay, I really don't want to think about them having sex in my bed, but I have to get him to stop these hours-long phone conversations where he tells me how miserable he is. So? What do you think?\"\n\nGen scrunched up her nose in thought. \"Whose house will she think it is?\"\n\n\"Oh, good question.\"\n\nThey both thought about that.\n\n\"He could say he's selling it.\"\n\n\"Oh! He could say he's renting it!\" Kate waved her hands excitedly. \"That's plausible, right? There are a ton of vacation rentals around here.\"\n\nGen shook her head. \"How's he going to explain all of your stuff? Unless you want to move out everything but the furniture for a weekend.\"\n\n\"Oh. Jeez. No, that won't work.\" Kate's eyebrows shot up. \"He could say he's housesitting.\"\n\nGen nodded. \"Yeah, maybe. That could work. Would she agree to it? I mean, she's his ex for a reason, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but from what he says, the whole 'ex' thing isn't a hundred percent. They talk. They're friendly. He could probably make it happen.\"\n\n\"Huh.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nThey sat together on the bed, Gen sipping her water, Kate splayed out across a pile of pillows. \"Jeez,\" Kate said. \"This bed is like torture. You're being tortured. Why do you sleep on this thing?\"\n\nGen looked at her wryly. \"In case you haven't noticed, this apartment is about the size of a broom closet. There's no room for both a sofa _and_ a bed.\"\n\n\"Well, there's that. But at least you have a great landlady.\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Zach sounded skeptical over the phone as Kate laid out her plan for him. \"We're divorced. She divorced me. Now I'm supposed to ask her for a date?\"\n\n\"Not just a date!\" Kate, standing behind the counter at Swept Away, considered the best way to make her case. \"It's... it's a grand gesture! You haven't seen my place, but it's got the best view in Cambria, I swear to you. Breaking waves. Barking sea lions. Gulls soaring overhead. I've even got deer on the lawn. Sometimes. I can't promise the deer, they kind of come and go at will.\"\n\n\"And so this would be dinner, and... \"\n\nClearly, she was going to have to give him the vision from her own imagination, since he had none of his own. \"Dinner at sunset, overlooking the ocean. With candlelight, wine, soft music. Rose petals in the bedroom, chilled champagne, more candlelight. And, you know, you're going to have to take it from there, because I'm not describing the rest.\"\n\n\"And where will you be?\"\n\n\"Somewhere else, obviously.\" She rolled her eyes.\n\n\"I'm supposed to make dinner for her? I don't cook.\"\n\n\"I'll cook!\" Kate didn't cook either, but he didn't have to know that. She could work that part out later. \"But, listen. If you really want her back, you're going to have to decide up front what you're willing to give her.\"\n\n\"Give her? You mean, like a gift?\"\n\n\"I mean, like the things she wanted out of the relationship that you said no to. The stuff that broke you up in the first place. What does she really want that you're willing to give her to make this work?\"\n\nHe was silent.\n\n\"What about kids? She wants kids, right? And you said you wanted to wait. Well, what are you waiting for? Tell her you're willing to start trying. Is that something you'd do to get her back?\"\n\n\"Yeah. We could do that,\" he said, his voice a little more confident now.\n\nKate had two customers browsing through the store—middle-aged tourists, the guy in cargo shorts and a Cambria baseball cap, and the woman in a flowing sundress and sandals. Kate knew she needed to help them—needed to get back to work—but she felt like Knute Rockne giving an inspirational speech at halftime. She couldn't stop now, before the deal was sealed.\n\n\"That's great, Zach. Tell her you're willing to start a family now, and... and tell her you'll work shorter hours and spend more time with her.\"\n\n\"Well, now, I don't know... \"\n\n\"Okay, if not that, then tell her she can go to college.\"\n\nSilence.\n\n\"Oh, come on, Zach. She doesn't want to go as some kind of plan B, because she doesn't trust you as a provider. She wants to go because... because she's stagnating at home. She wants to use her mind! She wants to prove something to herself, that she's smart, that she's capable. She wants to grow as a person! For God's sake, let her grow!\"\n\nHe hesitated for a moment longer.\n\n\"Zach. Jeez. You're miserable without her. What's a little college if it will bring her back home?\"\n\n\"But what about the kids? If we have kids, when is she going to go to college? She'll be busy with all these new kids we'll have.\"\n\nKate blew out some air, frustrated. \"She'll figure it out. Just tell her you trust her judgment. And then you've got to actually do that. You've got to actually trust her judgment.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\"Okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"You'll do it?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nShe did a silent fist-pump, which caused the tourists to look up in amusement. She put a hand over the phone and mouthed, \"I'm so sorry. I'll be right with you.\"\n\nShe returned her attention to Zach. \"So, ask her, figure out what night you want to do it, and let me know. I've gotta go. I'm ignoring my customers.\"\n\n\"Okay. Kate? You're the best. Really. Thank you. I don't even know why you're doing this.\"\n\nShe knew. It was because she couldn't take any more of his sad-sack, endless phone calls with him whining like a lovesick puppy. But she didn't tell him that.\n\n\"It's no problem, I'm happy to do it. Now ask her. Bye.\"\n\nShe ended the call and turned to her customers. \"Thank you for your patience.\"\n\n\"He'll never regret having kids,\" the woman said. \"We have three kids and five grandkids. Here. I have pictures.\"\n\nZach got back to her a day later, giving her a date for his romantic evening with Sherry. He seemed surprised that she'd said yes, but Kate wasn't. Things clearly weren't finished between these two, and sometimes a woman needed to be swept off her feet by a guy who'd taken the time to make special plans. Sherry didn't have to know that Kate was the one who'd made the plans.\n\nWith that done, she had to deal with the fact that she'd said she would cook. Kate's idea of cooking usually involved two slices of bread and some lunch meat, or maybe putting a Pop-Tart in the toaster. She called Neptune to see if they would cater the dinner, but was disappointed to learn they were booked up weeks in advance.\n\n_Crap._\n\nShe thought about whether any of her friends could cook. Gen was a good baker, but Kate wasn't at all sure how she'd do with actual dinner food. Rose _knew_ food—as in what went well with what—but she rarely made any herself. That left Lacy. She was clearly the best cook of the four of them. She sometimes even marinated things.\n\nDuring a slow period at the store, Kate called Lacy at Jitters and explained the situation. Lovelorn couple, special evening, nobody to cook the dinner that would prove to be the key to Sherry's heart.\n\n\"Oh, wow.\" Lacy seemed impressed with Kate's plans. \"You put all that together? For a guy you went out with and then rejected? I've never been that nice to my bad dates.\"\n\n\"It's not as selfless as it sounds. His 'I can't live without Sherry' phone calls are getting old, especially when I could be rewatching _Breaking Bad_. So, how about it? Can you cook a meal to get these two crazy kids back together? Zach will pay for the food.\"\n\n\"Maybe. What night is it?\"\n\n\"Friday.\"\n\n\"This Friday?\"\n\n\"This Friday.\"\n\n\"As in, five nights from now?\"\n\n\"Yeah. As in, Friday. The day after Thursday. Can you do it?\"\n\nThe silence on the line didn't bode well.\n\n\"I wish I could,\" she said finally, her voice full of don't-want-to-let-down-a-friend misery. \"I've got a family thing that night. My grandparents' golden wedding anniversary. I'm really sorry.\"\n\nKate sighed. \"Listen, don't worry about it. I'll figure something out. Even if I have to order pizza and serve it by candlelight.\"\n\nDaniel was at the gallery talking with Gen about some new pieces he was working on when Kate called to update Gen on her plans for the dinner. Daniel's ears pricked up when he heard Gen talking about Kate and Zach.\n\n\"What's this about a fancy dinner?\" he asked after she hung up the phone. \"I like fancy dinner.\"\n\n\"It's for a friend of Kate.\" She blew a red curl out of her eye in a gesture of frustration. \"She's trying to get him back together with his ex. She set up a romantic dinner for them, but... no food. Neptune's booked.\"\n\n\"Hmm. Is this the guy she went out with that one time? The guy she had dinner with at Neptune?\"\n\n\"Yeah. How do you know about that?\"\n\n\"Word gets around,\" he said. \"So, what's the plan?\"\n\nShe looked at him curiously. \"Why do you want to know?\"\n\n\"I just do.\"\n\n\"But why?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Just think of it as gossip. Think of me as one of your girlfriends.\"\n\n\"Okay. Can we paint our nails after?\"\n\nHe flashed her a grin, and she told him the plan.\n\n\"Listen. This is perfect. You do her a favor, show her what a good guy you are. She'll owe you one. She pays you back by taking you out to the movies or something. All you have to do is not act like an ass. You think you can manage that?\"\n\n\"Hmm. Maybe.\"\n\nDaniel was standing in the dining room at Neptune, an hour before the restaurant opened for lunch. He'd hurried down Main Street to the restaurant after his talk with Gen and banged on the door, saying he needed to talk with Jackson. The chef was rushing around, supervising prep, dealing with whatever chefs dealt with before the doors opened. He'd stopped his work, interested, when he'd heard what Daniel had to say.\n\n\"Come on,\" Daniel urged. \"You don't want to miss a chance to be a big hero.\"\n\nJackson sighed. \"Well, if it's going to get that Zach asshole back with his ex and away from Kate, that's a plus.\"\n\n\"It is,\" Daniel agreed. \"Should I tell Gen to tell Kate you'll do it? I can pass her a note after fifth period.\"\n\nJackson scowled at him. \"When's the dinner?\"\n\n\"Friday night.\"\n\n\"Aw, Jeez. You know I can't on a Friday. It's our busiest night.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Daniel gave it some thought. \"Can you make it ahead and have her freeze it and reheat it or something?\"\n\nJackson looked at Daniel as though he'd taken leave of his senses. \"Freeze my food? Are you serious?\"\n\nDaniel put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. \"Sorry, sorry. I should have known better.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you should have. Look, it was a pretty good idea, but... \"\n\n\"Teach her to make it!\" Daniel had the look of someone who'd been struck by inspiration. \"Yeah, that's it. Teach her to cook something for them. You'll be working closely together in the kitchen, tasting, stirring. Maybe even sautéing. Your hands brush together over the chicken cutlets.\"\n\n\"What are you, a girl?\"\n\nDaniel's brow furrowed. \"That's the second time today someone has suggested that.\"\n\n\"Well, if the Prada pump fits... \"\n\n\"But seriously. You can see the possibilities.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" he said again.\n\n\"Screw maybe,\" Daniel said as he headed for the door. \"I'll tell her you'll do it. When's your night off?\"\n\n\"Tuesday.\"\n\n\"Great. Tuesday!\" Daniel rushed out the door before Jackson could change his mind.\n\n\"Wait. _Jackson_ is going to teach _me_ to cook something for Zach and Sherry?\" Kate was in the shop, and Gen had just walked down from the gallery and popped her head in the door to tell her the news.\n\n\"Right. On Tuesday night after you close the shop. It's all set.\"\n\n\"But what... \" She closed her eyes and waved her hands around in front of her. \"There are so many things wrong with this picture. First, why would Jackson Graham, the top chef in Cambria, want to bother with Zach and Sherry's dinner? And second, if he _does_ want to do it, why would he be teaching _me_ to do it instead of just doing it himself?\"\n\n\"Because it's on Friday night.\"\n\n\"Ah. And he has to work on Friday night, obviously. Duh.\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\nKate looked at Gen, her head tilted like a dog who heard something strange. \"But why does he want to do it in the first place? Am I paying him a bundle of money I don't have?\"\n\n\"Nope. He's volunteering.\"\n\n\"But why?\"\n\nPoised in the doorway, Gen looked at her with sympathy. \"Honey, I love you, but you really can be dense sometimes.\"\n\nKate stared at her. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\nGen changed her posture and her facial expressions, and started doing her best Jackson Graham impression. \" 'Kate, what are you doing with that guy? He's a stiff! White zinfandel? My God!' \" Then she became Gen again. \"He's too big of a wuss to ask you out on a date, so he's going to teach you to cook instead, because he gets to spend time with you, and, hopefully, he also gets Zach out of the picture by getting him back together with his ex. Jeez. I shouldn't have to draw you a picture.\"\n\nKate started to say something, then stopped. She cocked one hand on her hip. \"Oh. Really?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'll tell Daniel to tell Jackson you'll do it. Tuesday night, your house. He'll bring the food.\" She started to leave, then hesitated. \"And wear something pretty. But not something that looks like you're trying too hard. I mean, it's a date, but it's not a date. It's a cooking lesson that's also... Oh, never mind. I'll pick something out for you. Gotta go.\" She sped off, leaving Kate and Althea looking after her questioningly.\n\n\"What in the world was that all about?\" Althea asked, a stack of new releases in her hand.\n\nKate shrugged. \"I guess I'll find out Tuesday.\"\n\n# 7\n\nThe shop closed at six on Tuesday, and Jackson had sent word—through Daniel and then through Gen—that he'd be at Kate's place at seven. That left little time for Kate to rush home, change into the outfit Gen had picked out for her—a blue cotton sundress and low, strappy sandals—touch up her makeup, and clean up the house so it would look presentable.\n\nObviously, the kitchen took top priority, cleaning-wise; Jackson would probably turn around and leave, scowling, if it wasn't spotless. Fortunately, that didn't take much, since Kate rarely used the kitchen for anything but toast and frozen pizza.\n\nWith the counters wiped down and the sink scoured, she rushed around picking up various pieces of her life from the countertops, the tables, the sofa. Magazines, books, used water glasses. She scooped up a pile of discarded clothes from the bedroom floor, considered putting them away, looked at the clock, and opted instead to stuff them inside the closet and close the door. When she was finished, she gave the place an appraising look. Not bad.\n\nAs she worked, she thought about exactly what it was she was hoping to gain from spending time with Jackson. Like Zach, he wasn't relationship material. He didn't use women, exactly—those who had dated him tended to think well of him even after things ended. But end they did, and usually after a very brief time. But who was to say that wasn't just what Kate needed? She was getting back into dating for the first time in years. She wasn't ready to jump into anything serious. A brief and mutually satisfying fling with a man who revved her engine could be exactly the right thing for her at this point in her life. There was no harm in it. They would both have fun, and then they would part on good terms.\n\nAt six forty-five, Gen came in to give Kate and the place her assessment. She looked Kate up and down, then gave her a thumbs-up. \"Good. You look good. Really pretty, but also casual. Just hanging around, being yourself, living your life, not at all concerned that a really hot guy is about to knock on your door.\"\n\nKate gave her a half-grin. \"That's just the look I was aiming for.\"\n\nGen, looking serious, appraised the house. \"Okay, wait.\" She went to Kate's bookcase, plucked a couple of books from the shelves, and arranged them artfully on a side table. Then, reconsidering, she selected one, opened it to the middle, and placed it pages-down on the arm of the sofa. \"There.\"\n\n\"What's that for?\"\n\n\" _The Unbearable Lightness of Being_. Sexy and intellectual. You're all set.\"\n\nGen wished Kate luck and went out the door.\n\nKate could hear Gen's footsteps going down the stairs to her apartment, and part of Kate wanted to go hide down there, too. What was she doing? Yes, a fun fling might be nice. But Jackson Graham had rarely been anything but foul-tempered and rude to her. Why should she think that he was attracted to her, just because someone told someone else that he was interested?\n\n_Just relax, and forget all of that. He's doing me a favor. He's coming because I promised Zach a romantic dinner with Sherry, and I don't know how to cook._\n\nFine. She'd stick to that. This was a guy just helping someone out. Something he'd have been unlikely to do if he weren't interested in her. But still.\n\nShe looked at the clock. Five minutes to seven. She felt a little fluttery feeling in her chest, and took a deep breath to steady herself. Okay, so maybe the very sight of him made her stupid and sweaty-palmed. Maybe it always had. So what? There was no reason to act like this was anything more than a cooking lesson.\n\nAfter all, it would be foolish to get her hopes up about anything that had to do with a man. She'd learned that the hard way.\n\nKate hated to be a cliché, but she knew she was one. Burned by a man two years before—having been cheated on, emotionally manipulated, belittled, and used—she'd been left so emotionally fragile that she hadn't ventured out there since then. Gen, Rose, and Lacy had tried to fix her up numerous times, but she just hadn't been ready for that. Was she ready for it now?\n\n_Only one way to find out._\n\nShe poured herself a glass of chardonnay to steady her nerves. She was only two sips into the glass when Jackson arrived. She opened the door to find him virtually hidden under bags of groceries and kitchen supplies.\n\n\"Wow! Let me help you with that,\" she said, taking a bag from his arms and ushering him in.\n\n\"Thanks. I didn't know what you had, so I thought I'd better bring a few things.\"\n\nThey put the bags down in the kitchen and she peered inside: one contained the food they'd be preparing, and another, a thick canvas carry-all, contained a sauté pan, a sauce pot, a set of knives in a leather sheath, and other various implements Kate couldn't name.\n\n\"I have a few things, but... mostly I don't cook,\" she said.\n\n\"I was afraid of that.\"\n\n\"That's why I was so desperate for help. Thank you, by the way. I appreciate you coming to my rescue like this.\" She looked up at him. Instead of replying, he'd stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking uncomfortable. She couldn't help but smile at his awkwardness. Who'd have thought he would be awkward, given his vast and varied experience with women?\n\nThere was that fluttery feeling again. Something about the guy. At six-foot-two, with broad shoulders and a powerful build, he towered over her. His wavy, ginger hair was attractively unkempt. He wore close-fitting jeans and a deep emerald button-down shirt that made his green eyes all the more dazzling.\n\n\"Should we get started?\" she prompted.\n\n\"First, let's go over the... Wow.\" He stopped midsentence as his gaze wandered over the sliding glass doors that led to the deck and the breathtaking view beyond. He walked across the room, opened the door onto the deck, and stepped out. \"From the neighborhood, I figured you had a view. But this... \"\n\nHe took in the breaking waves, the sounds of the sea lions, the grassy expanse on the slope below the house, the hummingbirds flitting to and from a tree just off the railing of the deck.\n\n\"It was my mother's.\" She came out onto the deck to stand beside him.\n\n\"The house?\"\n\n\"Yes. She left it to me when she passed away five years ago. The bookstore, too. When she died, I figured I'd sell both of them and get back to my life. But then... this became my life. I couldn't bring myself to leave.\" Standing close to him, she could smell a hint of his cologne on the early evening breeze.\n\n\"Any regrets?\" he asked.\n\n\"Actually, yes. I regret that I didn't spend more time here, with her, before she passed. I was too busy. Busy, busy, busy.\" She shook her head at the thought.\n\nHe turned toward her, leaning one hip on the railing of the deck. \"What did you do before this? What kept you so busy?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she waved a hand dismissively. \"It all seemed so important at the time. I went to grad school. I wrote a book. I had an adjunct teaching job at a university. I was very involved in being an intellectual. Going to cocktail parties to be seen with the right people. That sort of thing.\"\n\nHis eyebrows rose. \"You wrote a book?\"\n\n\"I did.\"\n\n\"Published, or in a drawer somewhere?\"\n\n\"Come inside. I'll show you.\"\n\nThey went into the house, and she rummaged around in a bookcase. \"Now, where did it... \" She looked over at the books Gen had stacked on the side table. \"Oh. Of course.\" Naturally, Gen had put the book out where it would be visible. Kate walked to the side table and took the book from the stack. \"Here.\"\n\nShe handed the book to Jackson.\n\nHe looked at it—a trade paperback with the simple, elegant image of a tree in fall foliage on its cover—and then looked at Kate, surprise on his face. \"This is you? You wrote _Beyond the Boundaries of Desire_? You're Katherine Hoffman?\"\n\n\"It's my married name. Before I changed it back. You've read it?\" Kate felt an electric jolt of pleasure at the thought that he knew and had enjoyed her work.\n\n\"Years ago, when it came out.\" He opened the cover and looked at a handwritten inscription on the title page.\n\n_To Mom,_\n\n_I couldn't have done this without your love and support._\n\n_All my love, Kate._\n\n\"This is your mom's copy.\"\n\nKate reached out for the book and held it in both of her hands, tears welling up in her eyes. \"Yeah.\" She swiped at her eyes. \"Sorry. She's been gone five years, and it's still hard.\"\n\n\"Of course it is.\"\n\nThey looked at each other with charged intensity before she changed the subject. \"So, what did you think of the book?\"\n\n\"Are you kidding? It was brilliant.\"\n\nShe wondered if maybe he was bluffing—either hadn't read it, or had read it and forgotten about it—when he quoted from the last chapter:\n\n\" _And then Wallace understood what she'd meant when she'd said she couldn't live, couldn't breathe. It was a saddening of the soul, a heartache unthinkable in any other place_.\"\n\nKate looked at him, and then at the book. \"Well, I... Wow.\"\n\n\"That's what I was going to say about the book. Wow. I couldn't get over the ending, where the kid walks into the river. I almost wrote to you about it.\"\n\n\"You did?\"\n\n\"Almost. But then I figured a big-time writer like Katherine Hoffman wouldn't want to be bothered by a guy like me.\" There was that awkwardness, that vulnerability, again. It made her smile.\n\nShe turned away from him to hide her mounting emotions. \"Are you kidding? I'd have loved it. You were one of about fifty people who read it.\"\n\n\"That's not true. You got reviewed in the _New York Times_.\"\n\n\"You read the _Times_ review?\"\n\n\"Sure. The guy raved about it. Called it a promising debut.\"\n\n\"Well.\" She shook her head. \"That doesn't always translate into sales.\"\n\n\"Is that all it's about, sales?\" He sounded disgusted, outraged. \"Is that why you stopped writing? Because it didn't sell? That's just... I mean, if you've got a gift, and it's just about money... \"\n\nShe turned back toward him, defensive now. \"I didn't stop writing. I stopped getting published. Sales do matter when a publisher is deciding whether to offer you a contract. They matter very much.\"\n\nShe could see him mentally backpedaling, trying to rein in his aggressive attitude. \"Yeah, I guess that's true.\"\n\n\"Anyway. I'm glad you liked the book.\" She changed the subject. \"So. What are we going to cook?\"\n\nThe menu he'd selected for Zach and Sherry's dinner was elegant and sophisticated, but none of it required advanced cooking skills. They'd start with an appetizer of mushroom pizzette—a kind of small pizza topped with button, crimini, and shiitake mushrooms—then move on to a main course of herb roasted pork shoulder with parmesan polenta and a salad of escarole and radicchio with fennel. Dessert would be poached pears with fresh whipped cream.\n\nKate looked at the menu and her face fell. \"This is... I don't know if I can do this. It sounds amazing, but if it doesn't come in a microwaveable tray, I'm pretty much adrift.\"\n\n\"No.\" He waved off her objections. \"The whole point of this menu is that it looks and sounds impressive, but anyone can do it.\"\n\nShe still wasn't sure. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Sure. And it all works well to make ahead the day of the dinner, so you can get it ready and then get out of the way before they get here.\"\n\nShe poured him a glass of chardonnay as they started pulling food and supplies from the bags he'd brought. She'd worried about how he'd react to the wine—would he call her an idiot again? But when he took a sip, his eyebrows raised in appreciation.\n\n\"Mmm, not bad. Did Rose get you this?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Yeah. She's my go-to guy for wine.\"\n\nHe grinned. \"Mine too. Okay, let's get the pork roast into the oven first thing, because it takes a while to cook. Then we can work on the side dishes and the appetizer.\"\n\nShe'd expected him to make the food while she watched; she'd heard stories about how controlling he was when it came to cooking. Instead, he showed her how to score the skin on the pork roast, directed her in rubbing it with garlic, rosemary, and sage, gave her tips on the best way to roll the roast and tie it with twine, and then nodded with approval as she slid it into the oven.\n\n\"Well, that wasn't so hard,\" she said. \"How long will this take? I haven't eaten since lunch.\"\n\n\"The roast? About three hours.\"\n\nShe gaped at him. \"Three _hours_?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but don't worry. We'll make the mushroom pizzette next. It won't take long, and it'll give us something to munch on while we work.\"\n\nTogether they sliced mushrooms, grated cheese, and stretched out the ball of pizza dough he'd brought. (He suggested premade dough, to make the process easier for her on Friday night. She was grateful.) They placed the pizzette on a baking pan and slid it into the oven and onto the rack beneath the pork roast. While they waited for it to bake, he discussed the importance of organization and cleanliness, showing her how to clean up as she worked so she wouldn't have an enormous mess at the end of the evening.\n\nWhen the pizzette came out of the oven, Kate inhaled the scent, eyes closed in bliss. \"God, that smells fantastic.\"\n\n\"Well, as it happens, we have a break now, because we don't have to make the polenta until the roast is nearly done. Here, let's have some of this.\" He rummaged around in her kitchen drawers for a pizza cutter. When he found one, he sliced the pizzette into six neat wedges and arranged them on a plate. They refilled their wine glasses and took them and the food out onto the deck, where the sunset was in its full glory. Kate put the plate on a side table between the two Adirondack chairs she kept on the deck, and they ate and sipped wine while the sun washed the sky and the ocean in oranges, pinks, and reds.\n\n\"This is amazing,\" Kate said, munching on a piece of the appetizer they'd made. \"But I'd have expected no different, coming from you.\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"What's amazing is this view. Jesus. This spot has got to be one of the best lots in town.\"\n\nKate nodded and took another sip of wine. \"It's one of the original houses in this part of town. It seems like one by one, all of the older houses are being torn down and replaced with architectural showpieces. Of course, the small size of the lots here, combined with restrictions on blocking other people's views, means none of them are very big. But still, this place is starting to look like an eyesore next to the neighbors. I need to get some renovations done, but there never seems to be enough money.\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"I don't think it's an eyesore at all. It's a little older, sure, but I think it's great. I like what you've done inside, too. It's homey. Comfortable.\"\n\nShe flushed with warmth at the compliment. \"I think so, too. I haven't changed it much since it was my mother's. Most of the furniture, the décor, is hers. Being here, with all of her things, makes me feel closer to her.\"\n\n\"How did she die?\" He looked at her cautiously, clearly gauging whether this was an acceptable avenue of conversation.\n\n\"Ovarian cancer. She was sick for a long time before I even knew.\"\n\nHis eyebrows furrowed in concern. \"She didn't tell you?\"\n\n\"She didn't know. She'd been having symptoms for over a year, but she kept ignoring them, thinking it was just aging.\" She shook her head. \"By the time she decided to see someone, it was too late. She didn't have a chance.\" Tears filled her eyes, and her vision blurred. She swiped at them. \"I'm getting emotional. Sorry.\"\n\n\"Hey. We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to.\" He put a hand on her arm.\n\n\"No, that's okay. I can talk about it. It's just, I've always wondered if it would have made a difference if I'd been here more. If I'd seen her more. I would have known something was wrong. I'd have made her get help sooner.\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"You don't know that.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" She sniffed a little and looked at him. He was leaning toward her, all concern and intense attention. She caught his scent, cologne and soap and white wine, and something more earthy and manly.\n\n\"What I mean is, maybe you wouldn't have seen it. Maybe you'd have thought what she did—that it was normal aging. Or maybe you'd have nagged her to get help, and she still wouldn't have done it. You don't know. Also, and maybe most importantly, her health wasn't just on you. It was her responsibility, too.\"\n\nShe looked down into her wine glass. \"I guess.\"\n\n\"Also, shit happens. No matter what you do. It just happens.\"\n\nFrom his tone, she could guess that he wasn't just talking about her and her mother. He was talking about himself, and the shit that had happened in his own life. It made her want to know more about him.\n\nShe nodded. \"Yes. You're right. I know that.\" And she did. Still, she started to cry. She struggled to keep the emotions inside, but the tears started to flow freely. \"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"This is stupid. It's been five years. Excuse me a minute. Let me just... \"\n\nShe rose from her chair and started to go inside, thinking that she would compose herself in the bathroom, wipe her eyes, blow her nose, make herself presentable before emerging again. Instead, he rose with her and caught her arm in his hand.\n\n\"Kate, wait.\"\n\nShe turned to him. He was standing close, his broad chest inches from her, his hand gently resting on her arm. He looked down at her, and she could feel his breath on her, smell his warm male scent.\n\n\"I know what it's like to lose people,\" he said. She could feel his voice in the trembling of her skin. \"I know how hard it is. I'm sorry about your mom.\" He put his arms around her and drew her into a warm embrace. His heartbeat thrummed under the sounds of the breeze and the surf.\n\n\"Thank you,\" she murmured, turning her face toward his. \"I... \"\n\nThat was all she got out, because then his mouth was lowering toward hers. The kiss started gently, a feather-light touch. A surge of heat ran through her body. She'd known it would if she ever touched him, kissed him, but this... The force of the jolt was unexpected. He pulled away slightly, his eyes gauging her reaction.\n\nThen she launched herself at him.\n\nIt had been so long, so long since Marcus, so long since she'd let herself feel this electric current of desire. She claimed his mouth with hers, pulled his body to her like it had always belonged there, pressed against her.\n\nHe let out a groan from deep in his throat and advanced, pushing her backward until her back was pressed against the wall, his mouth devouring hers before he released it and began tasting her jaw and the tender skin of her neck.\n\n\"Oh. Oh my... oh. God.\" Her body was on fire, mirroring the blazing colors of the horizon.\n\nWhen they pulled apart, he was the one who was pushing her away, holding her at a distance with his hands against her shoulders.\n\n\"That was... Jesus. I need a minute.\" He scrubbed at his face with his hands, grabbed his wine glass from the side table, downed the contents in one gulp, and then went into the house.\n\nShe leaned back against the side of the house, her pulse pounding, all thoughts of grief and sorrow forgotten.\n\nShe could feel the stupid grin on her face but couldn't seem to remove it.\n\n_Holy hell_.\n\nShe went into the house and found him emerging from the bathroom, where a bit of moisture at his collar told her he'd been in there splashing cold water on his face.\n\n\"Hey there,\" she said, perching on the arm of the sofa. \"Where'd you go?\"\n\n\"Look, I didn't mean... I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"What the hell for?\"\n\nHe fidgeted with his hands. \"Well, you were upset, and I took advantage.\"\n\n\"I've got to invite you over and get upset more often.\"\n\nFrom the look on his face, he seemed puzzled that his _I'm a cad, you're an innocent, oppressed damsel_ script was not working out.\n\n\"I should probably go,\" he said.\n\n\"What? Why?\"\n\n\"It's just, you know. Before things get out of hand.\"\n\n\"Would that be so bad?\" She got up and walked toward him, and he backed up until his butt was against the kitchen counter.\n\n\"I'm serious.\"\n\nShe could see that he was. They'd shared a moment of high-voltage electricity. And now he wanted to leave.\n\n\"Okay.\" She tried to keep the disappointment and confusion out of her voice. \"But what about the dinner? The cooking lesson. You've only showed me...\"\n\n\"Take the pork roast out in\"—he checked his watch—\"about another hour.\" He headed toward the door.\n\n\"What about the polenta? The salad?\"\n\n\"I'll email you the instructions.\"\n\n\"But your pans! Your supplies!\"\n\n\"Just keep them for now. You can get them back to me later.\"\n\nHe hit the door at a near run. He was on the sidewalk and halfway to his car when she called after him. \"Jackson!\"\n\nHe stopped and turned toward her.\n\n\"Why the hell are you running away?\"\n\nHe seemed as though he might answer, but then he simply got into his car and drove away, his tires screeching slightly on the pavement as he accelerated.\n\n# 8\n\n\"... And then he ran out of here like there were wolves chasing him.\"\n\n\"Wow.\" Kate and Gen were sitting at her dining room table, eating the pork roast and the rest of the mushroom pizzette with a bagged salad Gen had brought up from her apartment. They were well into a bottle of wine, and Kate was waving her glass around for emphasis.\n\n\"I mean, this kiss was epic. Freaking _amazing_. And then, poof. He shot out that door like his ass was on fire.\"\n\nGen looked thoughtful. \"That's not the reaction you usually expect after an epic kiss.\"\n\n\"No, it is not.\" Kate took another bite of pork roast. \"Jeez, this is fabulous. But anyway. It's not like I was expecting a night of out-of-control jungle sex, just because we kissed. Though that would have been nice. But maybe another kiss or two. Some talking. Eat the pork roast.\"\n\n\"There's a story here.\" Gen pointed her fork at Kate.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean, there's something you don't know about him or his history that caused him to, you know, run like his ass was on fire.\" Gen raised one eyebrow at Kate pointedly.\n\nKate threw her hands up in frustration. \"I don't know _anything_ about him or his history. Which I might, if he'd stayed around long enough for, I don't know, a _conversation_ about those things. But he didn't. He pulled out all of these painful emotional revelations from me, and then... Oh, no.\"\n\n\" 'Oh no' what?\"\n\n\"I talked about my mom, and I cried. Right before the kiss.\"\n\n\"So?\" Gen poured them each another half glass of wine.\n\n\"So, I don't know why I didn't see this before. I talked about my feelings and cried. And then he ran. You don't suppose he's so unevolved that he just couldn't cope with feelings, do you?\"\n\nGen sighed. \"God, I hope not. That would be depressing.\"\n\n\"Men can be that way, though.\" Kate got up and cleared their plates from the table. She carried them into the kitchen, turned back to Gen, and leaned against the counter.\n\n\"Yes, they can,\" Gen agreed.\n\nKate blew out a breath and ran her hands through her hair. \"Well, that sucks. If that's what it is. Who would even want a guy you can't talk to? What would be the point?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Gen hefted the platter bearing the rest of the pork roast and brought it into the kitchen, where she started running hot, soapy water in the sink. \"I guess there isn't one.\"\n\n\"I guess not.\"\n\n\"At least he weeded himself out early, before you got emotionally invested.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"But?\" Gen looked at Kate expectantly.\n\n\"But, there was that kiss.\"\n\n\"Ah, that. Well, you could always keep your girly, emotional trap shut and just use him for sex.\"\n\nKate had to admit, the idea held a certain appeal.\n\n\"God. What is _wrong_ with me?\" Jackson was gently banging his head against the wall in the pool room at Ted's. Daniel stood across the pool table from him, cue in hand, an amused look on his face.\n\n\"She's probably wondering the same thing right about now.\"\n\n\"No doubt.\"\n\n\"Come on,\" Daniel urged. \"It's your turn.\"\n\nJackson picked up his cue, surveyed the table miserably, and lined up his shot. \"I was so fucking _rude_. I hauled ass out of there without even explaining about the poached pears.\" He took his shot, and the cue ball sent the nine careening pointlessly.\n\n\"Oh, horrors. You forgot about the poached pears!\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\nJackson drank from a mug of beer as Daniel took his turn. Daniel, who wasn't in turmoil over a woman, was beating Jackson handily. He sank several balls, and when he finally missed, he straightened and faced Jackson.\n\n\"So, why? Why did you rush out of there like that, especially after what you describe as a very good kiss?\"\n\nJackson shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. \"I don't know.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you do.\"\n\n\"Oh, fuck off. You're worse than a shrink.\"\n\nThey stayed silent while Jackson took his turn. He sank the twelve, then missed an attempt to get the fourteen in the corner pocket.\n\n\"Yeah, I guess I do know,\" he finally admitted.\n\n\"Okay. So what was it?\"\n\n\"I was afraid we were gonna sleep together.\"\n\nDaniel peered up at him from where he was leaning over the table. \"You know that if a girl pressures you, it's okay to say no.\"\n\n\"Ah, you're such an asshole. Shut up.\"\n\nDaniel chuckled. \"Sorry, sorry. Go on.\"\n\n\"It's just... \" Jackson took a moment to gather his thoughts. \"That's what I always do. I meet a woman, we go out, we sleep together right away. And it's good. But then pretty soon it isn't good anymore. It's what I always do. And I'm afraid if I do what I always do... \"\n\n\"It's going to turn out the way it always does,\" Daniel finished for him.\n\n\"Well... yeah.\"\n\nDaniel took a slug from his beer and looked thoughtful. \"Okay. You're not wrong that maybe you should take a different approach this time. Except that now you've got her thinking the kiss was just so repellent to you that you couldn't wait to get out of there.\"\n\nThe thought hit Jackson with surprising force. \"But that isn't... She can't think that. Does she?\"\n\nDaniel shrugged. \"It's possible.\"\n\n\"Ah, jeez.\"\n\n\"So what are you going to do?\"\n\nJackson pointed one finger at Daniel. \"That kiss was not repellent.\"\n\n\"I repeat,\" Daniel said. \"So, what are you going to do?\"\n\n\"I don't know. But I'll think of something.\"\n\nThe next morning, a Wednesday, Kate was unlocking the front door at Swept Away, putting out her sandwich board sign advertising ten percent off new releases, when Jackson's truck drove by on Main Street as he headed toward Neptune.\n\nShe was involved in her tasks and didn't notice him until the truck came to an abrupt stop two doors down. The street was mostly empty at this hour, so he threw the truck into reverse and pulled to a stop in front of her. Jackson put the truck in park, pulled on the emergency brake, and got out, his face stormy and intense.\n\nHe stomped over to where she was arranging the sandwich board.\n\nShe looked up in surprise. \"Jackson, hi. What... \"\n\nThat was all she got out before he grabbed her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her with an intensity that made her toes tingle. In an instant she was hot and limp, melting against him, feeling the rush of pleasure and fire through her veins.\n\nJust as abruptly, he released her, leaving her barely able to stand upright.\n\n\"Last night's kiss was _not_ repellent,\" he said, pointing one finger at her.\n\n\"Okay. No. I didn't think it was.\" She leaned against the door of the shop for support.\n\nHe got back into his truck, threw it into drive, and sped away, leaving Kate to wave after him with a dreamy look on her face.\n\nKate didn't see Jackson over the next couple of days—but she did hear from him. He sent her emails detailing the preparation of the dishes he'd neglected to make the night he'd come to her house. Instructions on the polenta, including tips to keep it from sticking to the pan or clumping. A reminder that she could make the poached pears ahead of time and have them finished and out of the way before Zach and Sherry arrived. A course-by-course wine pairing list, along with a note indicating that he didn't expect her to provide a different wine for each course, he simply wanted her to have that option. A note on where she should buy the produce for the salad, and where she could find the most succulent pork roast. Some hints on presentation, including plating and garnishing.\n\nAll in all, it amounted to more than a dozen emails between the kiss on Wednesday morning and the dinner on Friday night. On Friday morning, Lacy dropped by the shop before her shift at Jitters, and Kate showed her the long series of emails, some businesslike, some chatty, some with photos attached as visual aids.\n\nLacy browsed the emails and laughed. \"Oh honey, he's got it bad.\"\n\n\"You think?\" Kate was peering at the screen over Lacy's shoulder.\n\n\"Oh, yeah. No question. Most of these are just so he can be in touch with you. I mean, nobody cares that much about how to make polenta.\"\n\nKate considered that. \"He's Jackson Graham. He might care that much about polenta.\"\n\n\"Okay, granted. Fair point. But look at this one, about the polenta.\" She brought up one of the emails and gestured at the screen. \" 'Stir with a counter-clockwise wrist motion'? At this point, he's just making stuff up. He just wants to be writing to you.\"\n\nKate leaned one hip against the counter, arms crossed, considering. \"Do we think that's creepy or cute?\"\n\n\"Oh, cute, definitely. I wish I had a guy that hot advising me on my counter-clockwise wrist motion.\" She sighed. \"So, what are you going to do about him?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nLacy clicked the laptop shut. \"I mean, this isn't the Dark Ages when women had to wait for men to ask their fathers for permission to take them courting. He can make moves, you can make moves. He can ravish you in front of the store, you can... I don't know. Call him.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure,\" Kate said.\n\n\"Which part aren't you sure about? The part where it's not the Dark Ages, or the part where you call him?\"\n\n\"The part where I call him.\"\n\nKate pulled some new releases out of a carton and stacked them on a shelf. Lacy followed her around while she worked.\n\n\"Why aren't you sure?\"\n\nKate shrugged, her arms full of books. \"It's just, the way he rushed out on Tuesday night was kind of... strange. I don't know what it means. I don't know what to think about it.\"\n\n\"You could try asking him what it means.\"\n\n\"He's a guy. He probably doesn't know what it means.\"\n\n\"Well. Right. That could be true. We could ask Gen to ask Daniel Reed. She's doing a lot of work with him at the gallery right now, and he's Jackson's best friend.\"\n\n\"No.\" Kate stopped what she was doing and faced Lacy, her hands full of books. \"We're not doing that. We are not in ninth grade.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay.\" Lacy grumbled under her breath, \"But it always worked for me in ninth grade.\"\n\nOn Friday, Kate left Althea in charge in the afternoon and left work early to plan for the evening. She bought the groceries according to the list Jackson had provided for her. She went home, carefully prepared the pork roast as he had taught her, and put it in the oven. She made the salad—all except for the dressing—covered it in plastic wrap, and set it in the refrigerator for later.\n\nShe poached the pears just as he'd told her in a particular step-by-step email that had run several pages when printed out. They smelled fantastic. When those were done, she put them in a decorative bowl, wrapped them, and put them away. She whipped the cream to go on top, and put that in the refrigerator next to the pears.\n\nFor someone who didn't cook often, she felt good about how it all was turning out. She burned the edges of the crust of the pizzette, but that problem was solved with some creative slicing of the appetizer. Some of the polenta did stick to the pan, as she'd feared, but enough didn't that it hardly mattered.\n\nWhen the food was ready, she turned her attention to the house. She tidied everything up, cleaning the kitchen and putting away the pots and pans, sweeping the floor, shoving her own clutter into cupboards and closets until it was out of sight, placing candles strategically throughout the house, and sprinkling dark red rose petals across her comforter.\n\nBy the time she had dragged the dining room table out onto the deck and had set the table with white linens and sparkling dishes, she was beginning to feel a little jealous that this dinner was for someone else and not for her. When was the last time a man had made a fuss over her?\n\nOf course, to be accurate, Zach wasn't making a fuss over Sherry—Kate was. But when was the last time a man had gone to the trouble to enlist someone else to make it look like he'd made a fuss over Kate? Never. Or at least, it had been so long that she barely remembered.\n\nKate hoped that Sherry would appreciate the gesture—regardless of who had actually done the work—and she also hoped that Zach would follow through on his intentions to compromise in the relationship to make it work. While she wanted these things for Zach, so that he could save his relationship and be happy, she wanted it for her own reasons, as well. She wanted to believe that a marriage could work, that problems could be worked out, that love could prevail in the face of differences and disagreements. She wanted to believe in romance. She wanted to have _hope_. Hope for love in general, but also hope for love for herself.\n\nIf she could engineer another chance for Zach, maybe someday she could do the same for herself.\n\nWhen Zach arrived, she showed him around the house and gave him a last-minute briefing on how to reheat everything, which course to serve when, how to plate it—according to Jackson—and how to complete the last-minute prep.\n\nShe instructed him to tell Sherry he'd made the food himself, and even gave him some details on the preparation of each dish so he'd be able to sound convincing, should she start asking questions. Then, finally, she'd wished him luck and hurried out of there before Sherry's scheduled arrival.\n\n\"Kate? Thank you,\" Zach had said at the door as she'd rushed down the walkway and toward the stairs down to Gen's apartment. \"I mean it. This is great.\"\n\n\"You're welcome. Just don't screw it up. Don't argue with her! About anything. Don't get into that ex-spouses-bickering-about-old-grudges thing. Remember, you're wooing her!\"\n\n\"I've got it.\" He went over to her, kissed her on the cheek, and squeezed her hand. \"You're the best, Kate.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah.\" She waved him off. \"Now, win that woman!\"\n\nShe spent the evening down at Gen's place, where Kate ate takeout pizza and Gen munched on a salad, and they watched movies on Netflix. Once or twice, when they'd heard Zach and Sherry moving around on the deck overhead, Kate had eased open the sliding glass door and listened to see how things were going. She knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but after all her work, she couldn't help it. She'd heard soft voices, but couldn't quite make out what they were saying. It was just as well, since, of course, it was none of her business.\n\nKate had planned to sleep down at Gen's place, but that turned out not to be necessary. At around eleven, Zach texted her to say they wouldn't be spending the night. At first, Kate had been alarmed, thinking something with the date must have gone wrong. But he reassured her, saying that Sherry had agreed to go to counseling with him so they could try again—mission accomplished. She just hadn't been ready to take the step of spending the night with him.\n\nSo, she'd gone upstairs, said goodnight to Zach, put the place back in order—he'd washed the dishes, but there were still the candles and rose petals to deal with—and crawled into bed. Propped up against the pillows, she'd taken one last look at her laptop before turning in for the night.\n\nLogging in to her email, she found a message from Jackson, sent just fifteen minutes earlier.\n\n_How'd it go?_\n\nShe wrote back:\n\n_Pretty well. The food looked good. I burned the edges of the pizzette, though._\n\nShe looked at the clock. At almost midnight on a Friday night, he was probably just finishing up at the restaurant, preparing to go home. She thought she likely would not hear from him again until the following morning, so she was surprised when a response promptly appeared in her inbox.\n\n_Cut off the burned parts?_\n\nShe grinned and wrote back:\n\n_That's what I did. Zach said it went great._\n\nShe got no response for a while, and she thought she should shut the laptop and go to sleep. Just as she was about to follow through on that thought, another message came in.\n\n_Since Zach and Sherry had a nice date, maybe we should, too._\n\nA little zing of excitement rushed through her. She typed:\n\n_What did you have in mind?_\n\nHis response came in moments later.\n\n_I'll call you tomorrow to ask you in a gentlemanly fashion, without the email._\n\nJackson was going to ask her out, formally, on a date. She thought of kissing him, first on her deck and later outside the shop. She remembered the rush, the liquid feeling of desire.\n\n_Okay._ ☺\n\nShe looked at her unsent response, considered whether the emoticon made her look like a teenager, and deleted it. She tried several alternative answers:\n\n_Okay._\n\n_Okay!_\n\n_I'll talk to you tomorrow._\n\n_Tomorrow, then._\n\n_Talk to you then, big guy._\n\nShe deleted them all and laughed at herself. In the end, she opted for:\n\n_Thank you for your help with the dinner. Have a good night, and I'll talk to you tomorrow._\n\nShe closed the laptop, set it on the side table, and snuggled down under her covers.\n\n# 9\n\nThe following day she had plenty of work to do at the shop. Saturday was one of her busiest days, especially during summer. She opened an hour earlier and closed an hour later than she did during the rest of the week, and she also liked to provide a little something extra on the weekends: an author appearance, tea and cookies, or maybe story time and a craft in the children's section.\n\nToday, she was keeping it simple, with a two-for-one sale on used books and a refreshment table including lemonade and cookies from the bakery case at Jitters. Simple mattered, because she and Althea still had to plan their Art Walk event, and they were running out of time. The more rumors filtered through to her about what everyone else on Main Street was doing, the more she realized she was going to be caught unprepared if she didn't get moving.\n\nShe was planning to meet Althea for a brainstorming session at nine a.m. The store would be open, but business usually was slow that early in the morning. It would give them time to think, to discuss, to hash out a solid plan for their event.\n\nJackson was supposed to call her today, but she willed herself not to think about it. How stupid would it be for a grown woman to wait by the phone, all nervous and moony-eyed? It would be very stupid, indeed. She was a responsible business owner, and she had things to do. Things other than waiting for a man to call.\n\nShe dressed for the day—linen capris, a pair of stylish sandals, and a silky sleeveless blouse—gathered her things, and got out of the house by eight thirty. The morning was clear and warm, with a light breeze coming off the ocean. Temperatures in the low seventies. A perfect summer day.\n\nShe parked her car in a space behind the store and walked over to Jitters to pick up her cookie order. Occasionally, when she wanted something special, she had the bakery down the street make her iced sugar cookies shaped and decorated like popular books, but that was too much time and expense for a regular Saturday. The basic shortbread cookies at Jitters would have to do.\n\nWhen she popped her head into the coffee place, Lacy was behind the counter, apron on, making espresso for a waiting customer. The strong scent of coffee hit her the moment she walked in the door, along with the sounds of easy conversation and the light jazz playing over the speaker system.\n\n\"Hey!\" Lacy greeted her. \"You here for the cookies?\"\n\n\"Yeah. And, mmm. Maybe a latte. I had coffee at home, but I can't resist the smell.\"\n\n\"Coming right up.\" Lacy finished the other customer's order and started making Kate's soy latte, with extra foam and a sprinkling of cinnamon. \"So, how'd it go last night?\" Lacy asked while she worked. \"With Zach and his ex?\"\n\n\"Good. At least, he says it was good. They didn't stay the night—so there's that—but he says she's agreed to go to counseling with him, see if it's worth trying again.\"\n\n\"Well, that's something,\" Lacy said over the whoosh of the milk steamer.\n\n\"Yeah, it is. I hope it works out for him. He's a good guy. Just... you know. Not for me.\"\n\n\"Not like a certain auburn-haired chef I know.\" Lacy grinned at Kate as she set her latte on the counter in a large to-go cup.\n\n\"Oh, stop it.\"\n\n\"What's up with that, anyway?\" Lacy leaned forward conspiratorially, her forearms braced on the counter.\n\n\"He's supposed to call me today.\" Kate took a sip of the latte and sighed in pleasure.\n\n\"Post-dinner recap? A critique of your braising skills? Deconstruction of your counter-clockwise wrist motion?\"\n\n\"He says he's going to ask me out.\"\n\nLacy stood up straight. \"On a date?\"\n\n\"That was my assumption.\"\n\nLacy pumped one arm in the air. \"Woo, woo!\"\n\nKate shook her head vigorously. \"No. Not, 'woo woo.' It's just... well, I don't know what it is yet. Let's hold onto our celebrations until we see what it is.\"\n\n\"Fair enough.\"\n\nConnor, a dark-haired guy in his twenties who was working behind the counter with Lacy, emerged from the back room with a pink bakery box filled with Kate's cookies. \"Here ya go, Kate. I'll ring you up.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Connor.\"\n\nAs she was handing over her debit card, he said, \"It sounds kind of 'woo woo' to me. I mean, I heard about that kiss he laid on you earlier this week. Hot.\" He shrugged. \"I mean, I didn't see it. But I heard it was hot.\"\n\nKate looked at him, stunned. \"You heard about the kiss?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah.\" He handed back her debit card and receipt. \"Around here, everybody knows everything. You know how it is. But don't worry, nobody's judging.\"\n\n\"They're not?\"\n\n\"Nah. They're saying it's about time.\"\n\nKate didn't like the fact that people in town were talking about her kiss, but she shouldn't have been surprised. Small towns were like that. And Main Street was a small town within a small town. If Owen at the cheese shop across the street saw something, he'd call Elinor at the clothing boutique next to him, and she'd let everyone in her bridge club know. That's just how it was. There were no secrets on Main Street.\n\nKate hurried into the shop, where Althea was already waiting, looking vaguely irritated—as she always did.\n\n\"We've been open five minutes already,\" Althea complained.\n\n\"Yes, I know. I was picking up the cookies. Help me set up the table?\"\n\n\"It's ready,\" Althea replied. \"I had plenty of time to get it prepared while I was _waiting_ for you.\"\n\nAnnoyed, Kate set the cookie box and her purse on the counter and turned to Althea, fists on her hips. \"Althea. Have we had even one customer by\"—she checked her watch—\"9:07 a.m.?\"\n\nThe woman looked uncomfortable. \"Well, no.\"\n\n\"Then perhaps you can tell me what, exactly, the burden was that you had to bear during the five- to seven-minute period when you were waiting for me.\"\n\n\"Well. It's not about that,\" the older woman insisted, her face set in an unattractive pout.\n\n\"Then what is it about? Because it seems to me that every day, you evaluate my job performance and find me lacking. I suppose you think you could run this place better than I do?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" she exclaimed. \"I could! Anyone could! A... a... a _trained monkey_ could! At least it would _be on time_!\"\n\nThe two women glared at each other for an interminable moment. A pair of tourists walked by on the sidewalk outside. Bright morning light filtered in through the windows. A fly buzzed lazily overhead before landing on a stack of books.\n\n\"It seems as though you don't really enjoy working here, Althea,\" Kate said at last.\n\n\"I enjoyed working for your mother,\" Althea said, a defiant, angry look on her face. \" _She_ knew the value of promptness and professionalism. _She_ put her every spare moment into making this store something special. And _she_ knew what I was worth!\"\n\nKate tried not to let the words hurt her, but they did. She had always suspected that she fell short of her mother, in so many ways. Here was Althea, confirming that fear. It stung, and Kate felt wounded.\n\n\"Maybe if I had some support instead of constant, nagging criticism, I might be better able to meet your expectations, Althea,\" Kate said coldly. \"Maybe it's your attitude that's bringing down my performance.\"\n\nAlthea blanched. She blinked rapidly a few times. \"Well. I think it might be time for us to reevaluate our arrangement here,\" Althea said, pouting. \"I'm sure it was time long ago, in fact. I won't put up with this any longer. And I won't be talked to with such disrespect.\"\n\nNever mind that Althea wasn't the one who had been compared unfavorably to a trained monkey.\n\nKate felt sudden remorse for the way she'd spoken to the older woman. Althea was annoying and controlling, no doubt, but that didn't mean Kate had wanted to put her out of her job.\n\n\"Althea, wait...\"\n\nAlthea fussed around behind the counter, grabbing her purse, her sweater, and the lunch she had packed. \"I'll just be out of your way. If it's all right with you, I'd like to pick up my final check later today.\" Kate could see tears forming in the woman's eyes.\n\n\"Althea, I didn't mean... \"\n\n\"Yes, you did. I'll just be going. Good luck to you, Katherine.\" She walked out the door, the little bell affixed to the top of the door frame jingling in her wake. Kate knew that what she'd really meant was, _Good luck keeping this business afloat without me._\n\nKate leaned against the counter. \"Well, shit.\"\n\nShe felt the hard press of stress against her breastbone as she arranged the cookies on a plate and placed them on a table Althea had done up with doilies and fresh-cut flowers. Under the guilt and the tension, she was a little bit relieved. Althea did a lot around here, but the woman's disdain toward Kate made every day a trial. Why did she dislike Kate so intensely? Althea had a reputation for being prickly and difficult. Maybe it was just her personality. Maybe it had nothing to do with Kate.\n\nIn any case, she was on her own now.\n\nShe put out a pitcher of iced lemonade and some cups, arranged napkins beside the cookie plate, surveyed her results, and sighed. She'd have to advertise for a replacement right away. She would need help before the Art Walk event. Then there was the fact that the store was open seven days a week, and Kate had no desire to work every day without a break. Once she found someone, it would take some time to train them well enough that they could be left alone at the store on her days off.\n\n_Shit._\n\nShe didn't think Althea would suffer financially due to losing this job. From Kate's understanding, Althea was retired from a longtime job as a bookkeeper and worked mainly to keep herself busy. She'd worked here because she loved books. She just didn't seem to love Kate.\n\nThe phone rang, and Kate snatched it up. \"Swept Away, this is Kate. May I help you?\"\n\n\"Althea quit?\"\n\nRose. \"How could you possibly know that already?\"\n\n\"She came into the wine shop just a second ago and gave me an earful. 'Your _friend_ did this, and your _friend_ did that.' Emphasizing the word 'friend,' to indicate the absurdity of anyone befriending you.\"\n\nKate groaned. \"Of course. I suppose you think I was too hard on her.\"\n\n\"Oh, hell no,\" Rose said. \"I don't know how you've put up with her this long. She's always been a pain in the ass.\"\n\nKate laughed. \"Yes, she has. But now I don't have any help.\"\n\n\"You'll find someone.\"\n\n\"Before Art Walk?\"\n\n\"Hmm. Good point.\"\n\nA customer came into the store, the bell jingling. \"I've gotta go,\" Kate said, and hung up the phone.\n\nAll morning, Kate helped customers, got caught up with bookkeeping, accepted used books from a customer in exchange for store credit, placed orders for new books, dusted shelves, washed the windows that faced Main Street, wrote Althea's final check—which she did with some grumbling—answered phone calls, and packaged some orders for shipping. By noon, she was hungry and eager to break for lunch—which she usually would have done while Althea covered the store. But now, since she was on her own, leaving would mean closing the store for an hour. She was hesitant to do that, because the stream of traffic into the shop had been steady all day. She didn't want to lose an hour worth of business.\n\nShe decided she would call Sal's, the Italian place three doors down, and have them deliver something, just as soon as she got a break. In the meantime, she grabbed a sugar cookie from the plate she'd set out and munched on it to hold her over.\n\nIn the back of her mind, she kept wondering when, and if, Jackson would call. She didn't want to be one of those women hanging on the actions of a man, but she couldn't help thinking about what she would say, and what he would say, and where it all would lead. Of course he wouldn't call now. It was noon, the lunch rush. He'd be busy at Neptune, searing scallops, or doing whatever mysterious magic with food that he did. He'd be more likely to call at midafternoon. Lunch over, the prep for dinner not yet in full swing. She'd worry about it then.\n\n# 10\n\nThe phone did ring at around two p.m., just as she'd expected. As she reached for the phone, the dozens of times she'd rehearsed the conversation in her mind escaped her, her mind went blank, and she had no idea what she was going to say.\n\n\"Swept Away, this is Kate speaking. How may I help you?\"\n\n\"Hey, honeybunny.\" The voice she was hearing was not the one she'd expected. A feeling of dread replaced her nerves.\n\n\"Dad.\"\n\n\"So, how's my girl?\"\n\nShe tried to gauge from his voice what he would need from her this time. Money? Bail? A ridiculously inconvenient favor? As much experience as she'd had with him, she wasn't good enough to peg the reason for his call this early in the conversation.\n\n\"I'm good, Dad. What's up?\"\n\n\"Why does something have to be up for a father to call his daughter?\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes. They went through this routine every time. He always spent a certain amount of time pretending he was just calling out of love before getting to his real purpose. Any attempt to hurry him along would be fruitless.\n\n\"I'm sorry, of course it doesn't. It's just that the shop is really busy today, and... \"\n\n\"So, you don't have time for your dad? Oh. I see. I guess that's why you haven't called me in, what is it, two months?\"\n\nAnother necessary stop on their usual route: him laying guilt on her so she'd be more receptive to whatever it was he wanted from her.\n\n\"Has it been that long?\" She rested her forehead against the wall as she talked. \"I guess time got away from me.\"\n\n\"I guess it must have. Angela keeps telling me, 'Don't worry about her, she's a grown woman. She'll call when she's ready.' But a father can't help but worry.\"\n\n_About yourself._\n\n\"How is Angela?\"\n\n_Besides cold, calculating, and bitchy, that is._\n\n\"Oh, you know. Dealing with some health issues. But she's hanging in there.\"\n\nAngela was always \"dealing with health issues.\" It was her method of keeping Thomas Bennet's attention on her at all times.\n\nKate calculated that the pleasantry requirement had been fulfilled. She waited for the inevitable request.\n\n\"So, we were wondering if we could come by for a visit. Stay a few days. Angela and I could set up in that cozy apartment you've got downstairs, and we could all spend a little quality family time.\"\n\nThe idea of \"quality family time\" with him and Angela made Kate's blood pound in her veins. Any chance of \"quality family time\" had evaporated when her father had left her mother—for Angela.\n\n\"I'm afraid that won't work,\" she said. \"I've rented out the apartment.\"\n\n\"Whaaat?\" His expression of surprise was exaggerated. \"But I thought you were keeping that free for visits from family.\"\n\nShe banged her head softly against the wall. \"Nope. It's been rented for over a year now.\" Which he would know if he'd been here even once during that time. Not that she wished he had.\n\n\"Well, that's okay. We can squeeze in at your place. I'm sure somebody can take the sofa.\"\n\nOkay, that was a good one. If \"somebody\" took the sofa, that meant two people would be in the bed. And since Kate wasn't about to sleep with either her father or Angela, that meant he intended to turn her out of her own bedroom.\n\n\"If you really want to visit, there's a lovely bed and breakfast here in town,\" she said, feeling sick already at the thought of him coming to Cambria. \"There are several, in fact. I can give you some names and phone numbers.\"\n\nHe was silent. Letting the guilt sink in, the fact that his own daughter didn't want him to stay with her.\n\n\"Dad?\"\n\n\"Oh. I see. You'd prefer that we stay elsewhere.\"\n\nA customer walked through the door of the shop, and Kate uttered a silent prayer of thanks. \"I've got to go, Dad. I have a customer.\"\n\n\"But I thought... \"\n\n\"We'll talk later. Love you. Bye.\" She hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and greeted her customer. Less than five minutes later, the phone rang again.\n\n\"Swept Away.\"\n\n\"Angela doesn't see why we can't just stay with you.\"\n\nKate closed her eyes, tight. \"She's seen my place. She knows it's very small.\"\n\n\"Maybe your tenant can stay with friends for a few nights. Maybe... \"\n\n\"Dad. I am not turning my tenant out on the street so you can use her apartment. I have to go.\"\n\n\"But... \"\n\n\"I'm hanging up now.\"\n\nWhen the phone rang again five minutes after that, she was out of patience, and dispensed with her usual professional greeting.\n\n\"Look. I told you I can't talk right now. I'm _busy_. I have a _business_ to run. If you've called to lay on more guilt... \"\n\n\"Actually, I called to see if you wanted to have dinner with me. But if it's a bad time... \"\n\n\"Oh, God. Jackson.\"\n\n\"Women usually say that to me under happier circumstances.\" She could hear the smile in his voice.\n\nShe groaned. \"I thought you were somebody else.\"\n\n\"They usually don't say that.\" He paused. \"Look. You were obviously in the middle of something. Why don't I... \"\n\n\"No, wait.\" She held the phone away from herself, took a few deep breaths, and brought the receiver back to her ear. \"Okay. Let's start over. Swept Away, this is Kate speaking. How may I help you today?\"\n\n\"Do you have any Stephen King?\"\n\n\"Oh, come on.\" She found herself smiling, forgetting about the stress she'd been feeling before he called. \"You mentioned something about dinner.\"\n\n\"Yeah. I just... I was wondering if I could take you out some night. For dinner. That somebody else would cook. You know, like a... a date.\"\n\nHe was nervous. It was adorable that he was nervous.\n\n\"We could do that. What night did you have in mind?\"\n\nHe cleared his throat. \"Ah. Monday? I know Monday is a lousy date night, traditionally not a typical night for that sort of thing, but my schedule... \"\n\n\"Monday is great.\"\n\n\"It is?\"\n\n\"Sure. I eat on Mondays.\"\n\n\"Ha. I do, too.\"\n\n\"It works out, then.\"\n\nHe was silent for a moment as she enjoyed the charm of his discomfort. \"I'd really like a do-over. The other night, the way I rushed off... I think we should do it over. But without the raw pork roast.\"\n\n\"What about the kissing? Would there be a do-over of the kissing?\"\n\n\"I can always hope.\"\n\nHe told her he would pick her up at seven—it would give her just enough time to close the shop, go home, and change clothes, but not enough time to obsess over how the evening would go.\n\nThough she suspected she would do that anyway.\n\nAs she hung up the phone, Jane Austen, the Swept Away cat, leaped onto the counter, and Kate stroked her smooth back. \"Oh, Jane Austen. Do you think I'm ready for Jackson Graham?\"\n\nJane Austen simply purred.\n\nOn Sunday, Kate knew she had to put thoughts of Jackson aside and figure out what the hell she was going to do for Art Walk. Since a full-scale carnival with a Ferris wheel, cotton candy, and a Tilt-a-Whirl was out of the question, she thought she had better focus on what would be practical and doable in less than four weeks' time.\n\nAn author appearance and book reading was the obvious choice—it was what they'd done every year—but it was boring. A tiny store like hers didn't attract big-name authors, and the kind of author she _could_ get didn't bring people in the door.\n\nStill, this was a bookstore. It had to be an author.\n\nSo, a fun author. An entertaining author. Or at least someone who would arouse curiosity. It also had to be a local author, since she didn't have the budget to fly someone in from New York—or from anywhere, for that matter.\n\nShe went to the shop's Local Authors section and scanned the titles. They leaned heavily toward local history, with a few field guides to Central Coast plants and wildlife thrown in. Kate could feel herself nodding off just thinking about it. Sorting through the books on the shelves, she found a couple of biographies of local bigwigs, and a few things on Hearst Castle. That was interesting, but everything there was to say about William Randolph Hearst and the property up the coast had already been said. And anyone visiting Cambria from elsewhere had probably heard it already on a tour of the wildly popular attraction.\n\nKate was just about to give up hope when she came across one nearly forgotten volume tucked in at the far end of the bottom shelf. _Wild Woman_ , the autobiography of Cassidy McLean, a 1980s film star who had opened a refuge for wild animals in Central California.\n\n_Hmm. Cassidy McLean._ Kate had forgotten about her.\n\nThe refuge, less than an hour inland over the rolling hills of Highway 41, had at one time housed a number of lions, an alligator, several species of monkey, a potbelly pig, and a Bengal tiger. Kate didn't know what kinds of animals were there now, but she knew the refuge was still operating. If Kate could get Cassidy McLean to talk about her film career, and maybe bring a small animal, she could attract the adults who remembered the movies and kids who wanted to see whatever creature the woman could coax into a cage and bring out here.\n\nInspired, Kate opened her laptop on the shop's counter and called up the website for the refuge. After confirming the place hadn't been shut down by local authorities, she composed an email to Cassidy McLean outlining her plan. She promised to stock a good supply of _Wild Woman_ for signing, and offered a small stipend—enough to pay for the gas to drive out here and a good dinner in town. She hit SEND and mentally crossed her fingers.\n\n_This could work. But first she's got to say yes._\n\n# 11\n\nKate was bustling around the shop at five thirty on Monday afternoon, preparing to close up early to give her plenty of time to get ready for—and obsess about—her date with Jackson, when Gen called.\n\n\"Your dad's here,\" Gen said. She had once told Kate that with difficult news, it was usually best to just blurt it out.\n\n\"He's where? Where is 'here'?\"\n\n\"The house. He's here at the house. With his wife. And all their luggage. They said they'll be staying with you. For... for a while.\"\n\nKate closed her eyes and pressed one palm to the side of her head, as though she were in danger of having her brain fly out her ear. \"What? _What?_ \"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Kate.\" Gen sounded miserable. \"I just got home from the gallery, and they were sitting on the front porch with this little dog in a carrier, and with a crap ton of luggage. They were waiting for you. I didn't know what to do. I... I let them in.\"\n\n\"You let them _in_?\"\n\n\"Oh, Kate. Please don't kill me, sweetie. Remember that you love me.\"\n\n\"I do, but... Oh, jeez. I have a date with Jackson! In an hour and a half! I don't have time to deal with... with my father and Angela, and their damned dog!\"\n\n\"What can I do? What should I do?\" Gen was near tears. \"I already let them in, but I could... I could... Well, kicking them out would be really awkward. Maybe find them another place to stay? I could call around... \"\n\nKate let out a deep sigh. \"No, don't worry about it. I'll be right home. I'll do... whatever it is I'm going to do. I don't know yet.\"\n\n\"Kate, I really am sorry.\"\n\n\"It's not your fault. See you soon.\"\n\nOn the drive home, Kate considered her options. She'd told her father that he and Angela couldn't stay with her. She'd suggested a B&B. She'd just go with that. She'd find them accommodations for tonight—good ones, a place that made her house look uncomfortable by comparison—shove them out the door, and then make herself busy over the next few days so she couldn't spend time with them.\n\nOr she could just drive her car into the ocean.\n\nShe dismissed that last thought, because the car only had 42,000 miles on it. Seemed like too much of a waste.\n\nShe thought centering thoughts as she maneuvered her way along the winding roads that meandered through Lodge Hill, down toward Marine Terrace. _This isn't a life or death crisis. This is a minor inconvenience. I can deal with this. They'll be here for a short time, and then they'll go home. One foot in front of the other. Just get through it._\n\nWhen she arrived in front of her house, she saw that an unfamiliar car was parked in the tiny, single-space driveway. The car made her do a double-take. It had to be Angela's. There was no way her father owned a powder pink Cadillac with a Mary Kay logo on the back window. Looking more closely, she saw the car sported a license plate frame that said I <3 MY POMERANIAN.\n\nShe parked her car on the street, walked to the front door, took a moment of silent reflection, and then went inside. She hadn't gotten both feet on the tile of the entryway before a small ball of dun-colored fur launched itself at her ankles, yipping and growling in a way that made it sound like it might be choking on a Milk-Bone.\n\n\"Jazzy! Oh my goodness. Jazzy, you stop that!\" Angela came rushing toward the door, where she scooped up the tiny dog and enveloped it in her arms. \"What did you do to upset him?\"\n\n\"Hello, Angela. No, I didn't get bitten, but thank you so much for asking.\"\n\nAngela narrowed her eyes at Kate. \"Jazzy doesn't bite. Do you, Mr. Jazzykins? Huh? Do you?\" She cooed to the dog in baby talk, rubbing its head and making kissing gestures.\n\nAt a glance, it appeared that Angela had fully adopted the theme of Mary Kay pink. She was wearing a pair of pink pleated trousers, a pink button-down blouse, pink sandals, and a full complement of makeup in various shades of pink. Kate was surprised the woman hadn't dyed her hair pink. Instead, Angela's hair—a shade of honey that, at her age, likely came from a salon—was done in a shoulder-length bob that flipped up at the ends, putting one in mind of Mary Tyler Moore circa the _Dick Van Dyke Show._\n\n\"Where's my father?\" Kate asked.\n\n\"Now, what kind of welcome is that?\" Angela put on her pouting face. \"We drove more than seven hours to be here, and instead of greeting me with... \"\n\n\"Where is my father?\" Kate repeated.\n\nAngela pursed her painted lips. \"I sent him out to buy some decent coffee. It seems you only have the _bargain brand_.\" She shuddered delicately. \"Cheap coffee makes my diverticulitis flare up.\"\n\n\"Well, when he gets back, we can get you checked in at the B&B, and... \"\n\n\"Oh, that's not going to work out.\"\n\nKate came into the house, closed the door, set her purse on the kitchen counter, and turned toward Angela. \"What's not going to work out?\"\n\n\"The B&B.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Kate sounded whiny to her own ears, but at least she wasn't throwing glassware.\n\nAngela sighed in a beleaguered and world-weary way. \"I suppose they must have lost our reservation. They had no record of us, they said. Well, of course we came right here.\"\n\n_They had no record of you because my father never called._\n\n\"Okay. I'm sure we can work something out. I'll get them on the phone.\"\n\n\"They're full.\"\n\nKate felt anger rising through her body and up to her chest, making it hard to breathe. She controlled her voice. \"Well, this is a tourist town. There must be more than a hundred bed and breakfasts, hotels, motels, and guest houses here. I'm sure we can find something.\"\n\n\"I called around, but no one will take us with our dog,\" Angela complained.\n\n\"Ah. The dog. There's a kennel... \"\n\n\"What?! I could never put Jazzy in a kennel. The very thought.\"\n\n_Fine,_ Kate thought. _Mr. Jazzykins can stay here. We'll put you in the kennel._\n\nAngela bent down and put Jazzy back on the floor. As she rose, she moaned about her lower-back pain. Jazzy ran around in a circle, lifted his tiny leg, and peed on the corner of Kate's sofa. Angela busied herself looking for something in her purse, which allowed her to pretend she hadn't seen Jazzy defile the furniture.\n\n\"Your dog just peed on my sofa.\"\n\n\"Hmm?\" Angela didn't look up from where she was rooting around in the Coach bag—also pink.\n\n\"Your dog. He peed. On my sofa.\"\n\nAngela waved an arm toward Kate. \"Oh, just try a little vinegar and baking soda.\"\n\nSince it was clear that Angela wasn't going to address the issue herself, Kate sighed and rooted around in her kitchen for the items. Since she didn't bake, it was unlikely she would have baking soda. And since she didn't make her own salad dressing, it was unlikely she would have vinegar. She didn't find the vinegar, but to her surprise, she did locate a box of baking soda in the back of a cabinet. She brought it out to the sofa with a damp cloth, to find Jazzy chewing on one of her throw pillows.\n\n\"Angela.\"\n\nNo response.\n\n\"Excuse me. Angela?\"\n\n\"Hmm?\" Angela raised her eyebrows questioningly but didn't look up from her iPhone.\n\n\"Could you put Jazzy in his carrier, please?\"\n\nNow Angela did look up, with an expression of shock and outrage. \"But why?\"\n\n\"Why? Seriously? He's chewing up my pillow.\"\n\nAngela waved her arm again. \"Oh, ha ha. Dogs will be naughty sometimes!\"\n\n\"Angela! The carrier.\"\n\n\"But the drive took seven _hours_. The poor thing's been cooped up all _day_!\"\n\nKate looked around helplessly, saw Jazzy's little rhinestoned leash sitting on top of his carrier, grabbed it, and thrust it at Angela. \"Then take him for a walk.\"\n\nAt the sound of the word \"walk,\" Jazzy ran to the two women and started yipping and spinning.\n\n\"He seems to like the idea,\" Kate said.\n\nAngela shot Kate a look that said, _We're not done here_. She snatched the leash from Kate's hand and snapped it onto Jazzy's collar.\n\n\"Fine.\" She and the dog headed toward the door.\n\n\"And don't forget to clean up after him!\" Kate yelled after her.\n\nHer adrenaline surging, tension like a vise around her chest, Kate looked with incredulity at the amount of luggage they had brought. Two full-sized suitcases, two carry-on-sized rolling bags, the dog carrier, and three or four totes. It looked as though they planned to move in permanently.\n\n_Over Angela's dead body. Or Jazzy's._\n\nShe was on her knees scrubbing at the urine-soaked sofa corner when the door opened behind her.\n\n\"Katie!\"\n\nShe looked up, the smell of dog pee wafting around her. \"Dad.\"\n\nHer father was standing in the doorway holding a grocery bag. In his early sixties, Thomas Bennet was an attractive man who presented himself in far better fashion than he could afford. He had dark hair sprinkled with gray. He wore khaki pants, a powder blue golf shirt, and—Kate could see this clearly from her vantage point—a pair of designer calfskin loafers.\n\n\"What are you doing down there?\" he asked.\n\n\"Cleaning up your dog's pee.\"\n\n\"Ah. That's Jazzy for you. He pees on everything.\" He laughed jovially, as though this were a point of endless good-hearted amusement.\n\nKate abandoned her efforts with the sofa, stood up, and put the baking soda and rag aside. \"Dad. What are you doing here?\"\n\nHe looked at her in bemusement. \"What do you mean? We talked on the phone about us visiting.\"\n\n\"Yes, but we didn't talk about when. And we talked about you staying at a B&B—not here.\"\n\nHe put the grocery sack down on the kitchen counter. As he removed the items from the sack, Kate could see that it contained not only coffee, but also brie, foie gras, and a $50 bottle of Scotch. Same old Dad.\n\n\"The B&B lost our reservation.\"\n\n\"So Angela told me. There are other hotels and B&Bs in town. A lot of them.\" She handed him her cell phone. \"Start calling.\"\n\n\"Well.\" He looked at the phone, and then back at Kate. \"I would have thought you'd be more welcoming. I'm your father. We hardly ever see each other. I thought... \"\n\nOh, God, it was working. The guilt. She fought against it, but hell if it wasn't working.\n\n\"Dad, I didn't mean... \"\n\n\"I know we have some issues between us. But I never thought it would come to me not being welcome in your home.\" He wiped at his eyes. Was he _crying?_\n\n\"I just thought you'd be more comfortable at a hotel, somewhere you can have privacy. You can see how small my place is.\" The argument sounded false to her own ears. As small as her house was, it was far bigger than a hotel room would be.\n\n\"Oh, we'll manage.\" He put the food into the refrigerator, as though the matter were settled. He started rummaging around in her cupboards for a glass, which he then filled with ice and two fingers of Scotch.\n\nAt that moment, Angela came back into the house, with Jazzy on his leash. She bent down and freed the dog, who immediately became a frenzied whirlwind of barking, snarling, and yipping. Then he dashed off into Kate's bedroom, probably intending to pee on something else.\n\n\"Well, that was a dreadful walk,\" Angela complained, sighing to indicate her suffering. \"It's so _hilly_ here. And there are no _sidewalks_. I thought I was going to break an ankle in these shoes.\"\n\n\"There are sidewalks in town,\" Kate said helpfully. \"Where the B&B is.\"\n\n\"Kate... \" Thomas started in.\n\nAt that moment, with Angela complaining, Thomas gearing up for an argument, Kate going back onto her knees to take another crack at cleaning up the pee spot, and Jazzy in paroxysms of excitement over something in the next room, they heard a knock at the door, which was still open from Angela's arrival.\n\nThey all looked up as a group, and there, in the doorway, was Jackson, carrying a small pink bakery box and looking confused.\n\n\"Hi,\" he said.\n\n\"Oh,\" Kate said.\n\nAnd from Angela: \"Oh, my.\"\n\nKate scrambled up from her knees, noticed the foul-smelling rag in her hand, and rushed to dispose of it and wash her hands. \"Jackson, come in,\" she said from the sink, her hands covered in suds. As she dried off, she made the introductions. \"Jackson Graham, this is my father, Thomas Bennet, and his wife, Angela Bennet.\"\n\n\"I didn't know we were expecting company,\" Thomas said. We. As though it were his house, and he had every right to approve or disapprove the people who came to visit here.\n\n\"Jackson and I have a date,\" Kate said. \"Which I would have mentioned if you'd called ahead to find out if this was a good time for a visit.\"\n\n\"There's no need to be so _rude_ ,\" Angela scolded.\n\nJackson, looking bemused, held the pink box out to Kate. \"Cupcakes, from the restaurant. I was going to bring flowers, but then I thought, why be a cliché?\"\n\nKate took the box from him and peered inside. The little box contained two perfect cupcakes with pale green frosting and a sprinkling of crushed nuts.\n\n\"Pistachio,\" he said.\n\nShe felt that same little melting of her heart that she felt every time she was with him. \"You brought me cupcakes.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nShe looked up at him. \" This is so much better than flowers.\"\n\nHe shifted from one foot to the other, smiling, obviously pleased.\n\nAngela peered over Kate's shoulder and into the box. \"Mmm, those look delicious!\"\n\nKate snapped the box closed. Jackson said, \"If I'd known Kate was having family over, I'd have brought enough for everyone. Maybe next time.\"\n\n\"Listen, Jackson,\" Kate said. \"I got distracted when I got home, and I haven't showered or changed yet.\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"I can wait. But you don't need to change on my account. You look beautiful the way you are.\"\n\n\"Oh, please,\" Angela scoffed. \"Do you see what she's _wearing_? Of course she should change.\"\n\n\"On second thought,\" Kate said, \"it might be better to just go. Let me grab my purse.\"\n\nShe put the cupcake box on the kitchen counter, retrieved her purse, ducked into the bathroom to arrange her hair and apply lipstick, and came back out. \"Okay, I'm ready. Dad, Angela, we'll figure things out when I get back. Please don't let Jazzy pee on anything else.\"\n\nAs she spoke, the dog, having heard its name, emerged from the bedroom with a red patent leather peep toe pump in his mouth.\n\n\"Oh God,\" she said.\n\n\"I'll get it,\" Jackson offered. He scooped up the dog, gently pried the shoe from its mouth, put the shoe in the bedroom, and closed the bedroom door. Then he put the dog down on the kitchen tile. Jazzy promptly barked at the bedroom door, as though there were an intruder or a rasher of bacon on the other side.\n\n\"Let's go,\" Kate said.\n\nThey went out the front door and headed toward Jackson's truck. They got halfway down the driveway before Kate suddenly stopped.\n\n\"Hang on,\" she said.\n\nShe hurried back to the house, went in through the screen door, and found Angela with the bakery box in one hand and a pistachio cupcake in the other. Wordlessly, Kate plucked the cupcake out of Angela's hand, put it back in the box, and took the box away from her. She went back outside with the box to where Jackson was waiting for her.\n\n\"Now I'm ready,\" she said.\n\n# 12\n\nThe evening was warm and slightly breezy, with the tang of salt water in the air. They drove in Jackson's Chevy Silverado, a full-sized pickup truck he sometimes used to haul supplies for the restaurant.\n\n\"Where are we headed?\" Kate asked. She tried to make her voice sound light and carefree, but the train wreck going on at her house made that difficult. She wondered how long her father and Angela would be staying, where they would be staying, and how many more of her belongings Jazzy would pee on or chew up before she got home. She also wondered why she wasn't better at standing up to them.\n\n\"I thought, The Sandpiper,\" he said. The Sandpiper was a restaurant across a small, two-lane road from Moonstone Beach. Popular with the tourists, the place was generally considered to be the second-best restaurant in town—after Neptune.\n\n\"Mmm,\" Kate responded, without really hearing him.\n\n\"That work for you?\"\n\n\"Yes, sure. That's fine.\"\n\nThey drove for a while in silence. Finally, Jackson said, \"If this is a bad night for you... I mean, I could see you had a lot going on at home... \"\n\n\"What?\" She looked up at him, paying attention now. \"Oh, no. I don't want to cancel. Home is pretty much the last place I want to be right now. You did me a favor getting me out of there when you did.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I got that sense.\" He maneuvered the truck along Ardath Drive, pausing once to let a deer and its fawn cross the road into the brush. He turned left onto Highway 1 and then made the turnoff for Moonstone Beach.\n\n\"Listen, if you want to talk about it... \" he offered.\n\nShe did want to talk about it—oh God, she did—but she remembered what had happened the last time she'd talked to Jackson about her feelings. It had ended with him running out the door like he was competing for an Olympic medal. She didn't blame him for that. They barely knew each other—acquaintances for years, but on the wave-and-small-talk level—so she could hardly expect him to become her therapist. Especially if he was interested in her, which he apparently was. Everybody knew you didn't start a new relationship by whining about your problems.\n\n\"That's okay,\" she said, again aiming for that light, carefree, I'm-a-fun-girl tone. \"Let's just enjoy our evening.\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nThey arrived at the restaurant, and he parked the truck in the tiny gravel parking lot. She reached for her door handle, but she could see from the purposeful way that he was heading around the truck that he intended to open her door for her. She waited, and let him.\n\nOnly now that they were away from the circus going on at her house did she notice how good he looked. He was wearing charcoal slacks, a deep blue button-down shirt open at the neck, and a black blazer. His wavy hair was combed back, still damp from his shower. He was tall and broad, and he smelled like soap and a hint of aftershave. Getting out of the truck, with him standing so near her, she wanted to fold herself into his arms. She could hardly do that, though, within the first few minutes of their first date.\n\nShe felt unprepared, uncomfortable, somewhat frumpy and trollish compared to him. She was dressed nicely enough—she'd put on a good outfit for work that morning—but she hadn't had the opportunity to shower, change, and primp for him. She should have accepted his offer to wait for her. But if she'd done that, he'd have had a chance to talk to her father.\n\nNo, rushing out the door was definitely the way to go.\n\nHe held the door for her as they entered the restaurant. The place was usually packed with tourists during the summer season, but now, on a Monday night, the dining room held just a sprinkling of patrons.\n\n\"Jackson Graham,\" the hostess said warmly. \"To what do we owe the honor?\"\n\nJackson looked embarrassed, making Kate wonder whether he had a history with the tall blonde.\n\n\"Ah, knock it off, Lindsey.\" He sounded pleased but uncomfortable with her attention. \"You know Kate Bennet?\"\n\n\"Of course. Hi, Kate.\"\n\n\"Lindsey.\"\n\n\"Can you give us a table by a window?\" Jackson asked.\n\nLindsey looked around and fixed her face in mock consternation. \"As packed as we are, that's going to be a challenge. But if you slip me a twenty... \" She put one hand on his bicep.\n\n\"Very funny,\" he said.\n\n\"Follow me.\" She grabbed two menus and led the way toward a table for two with a spectacular view of the ocean, now pink and orange with the glow of sunset.\n\n\"Your server will be right with you,\" Lindsey said after they were seated and had their menus open in front of them. She gave Jackson a look and a wink, and then sashayed away.\n\n_Interesting._\n\n\"So, how do you know Lindsey?\" Kate willed her voice to sound idly curious, as though she were simply making light conversation. In fact, she was reading the terrain. Kate knew Jackson's reputation with women, but it was one thing to know, and it was quite another to come face to face with the evidence during a date. Was Jackson so prolific with women that Kate would be encountering his ex-lovers on every corner? And how would she feel about that? It paid to know such things.\n\n\"Oh.\" He looked at the menu as though he were barely listening. He seemed a little too casual to be convincing. \"She worked at Neptune for a while. You know how it is, we're in the same business. People tend to know each other.\"\n\n\"So you didn't date her?\"\n\nHe looked up from the menu. \"If I had, would there be something wrong with that?\"\n\n\"No, of course not. It's just... \"\n\n\"What?\" He put the menu down.\n\nShe shrugged. \"I just like to know the lay of the land.\"\n\n\"The _lay_ \"—he smirked at the choice of words—\"is that yes, we did date. A long time ago. It didn't last long.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\nHe looked at the menu again. \"Ah, Christ.\"\n\nShe leaned back in her chair, offended. \"Look, if I can't even ask a simple question... \"\n\n\"What?\" He looked at her. \"No, not that. It's this wine list. I can't believe they serve the Cambria Crest cabernet but not the Sapphire Seas. Who'd the guy at Cambria Crest have to screw to work that?\" He shook his head with disgust.\n\nKate tried to gauge whether he was deflecting the conversation away from Lindsey, or if he really did care that much about the wine list. She decided it was the latter, since it meshed well with everything Rose had told her about him.\n\nIn a moment, their server, a tall, slender brunette named Ashley, who, Kate thankfully observed, gave off no particular vibe toward Jackson, came to take their drink order. Jackson seemed flummoxed by the lack of Sapphire Seas, but rallied nicely to order a San Simeon Estate Reserve cabernet sauvignon. She ordered the same thing, partly because she figured he knew good wines better than she did, and partly because she feared being yelled at if she made a choice he didn't approve of.\n\nWhen they had placed their orders, Ashley turned to Jackson. \"Max heard you were here, and if you don't mind, he'd like to put together something special for you.\"\n\n\"Max?\" Kate asked.\n\n\"Max Singer, our head chef,\" Ashley added for Kate's benefit.\n\nJackson put down his menu. \"Tell him to wow me.\"\n\n\"I think that's the idea,\" Ashley said.\n\nWhen she was gone, Jackson said, \"Max also worked at Neptune, before he got the gig here. I taught him everything he knows. First I had to undo the damage they did at that crappy culinary school he attended.\" He shook his head at the memory.\n\n\"Well, you must trust him, or we wouldn't be here.\"\n\nHe looked at her as though that were obvious. \"I trained him.\"\n\nTheir drinks came, and they settled in, sipping the rich, dark wine and gazing out at the view, which was becoming more colorful with the passing minutes.\n\n\"So, how did you become a chef?\" Kate asked.\n\n\"My mother is an excellent cook. She wasn't trained or anything, she just had a feel for it. I used to help her in the kitchen, and after a while I was better at it than she was. Something about food, it's just... \" He reached for words. \"You can paint a picture and hang it on the wall, and it just sits there looking pretty. Or not pretty, depending on the kind of art. But food—making a meal that nourishes people, makes them feel full and happy and well-cared-for—that's an art form that _means_ something.\"\n\nKate nodded appreciatively. \"Do you think you might open your own restaurant someday?\"\n\nHis head swayed a bit in a gesture of uncertainty. \"Maybe. But first I need to land a top job in one of the food capitals.\"\n\n\"Food capitals?\"\n\n\"You know. New York. San Francisco. Los Angeles. One of the cities where a chef can really make a name for himself.\" He changed the subject slightly. \"How is it that you never learned to cook?\"\n\nShe smiled. \"My mother saw cooking as drudgery that you had to endure for your survival. Most of her recipes involved boxed macaroni or cream of mushroom soup.\"\n\nJackson winced. \"Ouch.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know. I liked it at the time. I still do, on occasion. It used to bug my dad, though. He has loftier tastes.\"\n\nHe sipped his wine and then raised the subject they were both thinking about.\n\n\"So, your dad... I take it his visit wasn't exactly planned?\"\n\nShe wanted to launch into the subject, wanted to rail against her father, wanted to pour out her frustrations, seek advice, seek reassurance. She wanted to explain the troubled relationship she'd always had with her father, and the reasons for it, and her repeated, failed attempts to find common ground.\n\nBut last time she talked about her family, he ran.\n\nAnd then, there was the fact that every piece of dating advice she'd ever read warned against dumping your problems on someone on a first date. Keep it light, keep it positive. No discussion of exes, and certainly no airing of long-held family dysfunction. No whining about how your father never fully accepted you, and then left you and your mother for another woman.\n\nShe knew that if she started talking about it, she wouldn't stop, and there probably would be tears. And then she'd never see Jackson again, except when he needed a book or she wanted a meal at Neptune.\n\n\"No, the visit wasn't planned. And houseguests can be stressful.\"\n\n\"No doubt.\" He nodded. \"But I got the sense there was something else going on, as well.\"\n\n\"No, not really.\"\n\nHe looked at her skeptically. \"No bad blood between you and Angela?\"\n\n_Oh, you have no idea._\n\nInstead, she said, \"What? No.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nAshley returned bearing two plates. She set them down with a flourish. \"For your first course, heirloom tomato and haricot vert salad.\"\n\nAfter Ashley was gone, Kate looked at her salad. \"This looks wonderful. I don't even know what haricot vert is.\"\n\n\"They're the green beans,\" Jackson said. \"A particular variety. You see how they're thinner than the green beans you're probably used to?\"\n\n\"Okay, yeah.\"\n\nTo Kate, the salad was delicious. The flavor of the tomatoes, combined with the beans and a zesty, citrusy dressing, was fresh and appealing. Jackson was poking and scowling at his.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" she asked.\n\n\"These tomatoes aren't local.\"\n\nShe put down her fork. \"How can you tell?\"\n\nHe cocked his head at her. \"How can you tell if a book is a first edition? You know books, I know tomatoes. Among other things. You see the texture here? That means it was harvested probably weeks ago, and then it was sent on a truck to get here. Why the hell doesn't Max use local tomatoes? A salad like this lives or dies on the freshness of the tomato.\" He shook his head. \"I taught him better than this.\"\n\nShe proceeded to finish her salad while Jackson simply poked at his, eating a few beans but avoiding the nonlocal tomatoes.\n\nAshley cleared their plates, scowling at Jackson's uneaten salad, and returned with their main course. \"Merguez with chickpea puree and eggplant jam,\" she announced.\n\n\"Huh,\" Jackson said, looking at the plate. A long coil of grilled sausage lay atop a bed of puree, with the eggplant jam on top. A garnish of dandelion greens was artfully arranged in an X over it all, as though one might have used a map to find the food.\n\n\"Wow,\" Kate said. She took a slice of the sausage, dipped it in the puree, and tasted it with a bit of the eggplant jam. The combination of flavors exploded in her mouth, making her moan with pleasure.\n\nJackson was moaning, too, but for different reasons. \"The dandelion greens are starting to wilt,\" he complained. \"And the merguez is overcooked. The ends are dry. Ugh.\"\n\nKate was starting to get irritated. \"Jackson.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Just eat, please.\"\n\n\"All right.\" He had a few bites, but when she looked up at him, he was staring at the plate with a furrowed brow and stormy eyes.\n\n\"So, did you enjoy culinary school? I'll bet you've got a lot of kitchen horror stories.\" She tried to change the subject.\n\nHe didn't hear her.\n\n\"Jackson!\"\n\nHe looked up, startled.\n\n\"Good God. Do you just want to leave?\"\n\n\"No.\" He shook his head. \"No. But I do want to talk to the chef. I'm gonna kick his ass. I'll be right back.\" He wadded up his cloth napkin, threw it down beside the plate, and stalked off toward the kitchen.\n\nKate had been abandoned by dates before. Kenny MacElroy stood her up when she was sixteen and they were supposed to go to the movies. Evan Price took her to a party when she was twenty and left with another girl. But never had she been left at the dinner table while her date went off to berate the chef.\n\nShe sat there for a while, eating her dinner. Was it bad manners to go ahead without him? Maybe, but his manners were unquestionably worse, leaving her here alone. Yes, the dandelion greens were slightly wilted. And yes, it was true that in some areas, the sausage—whatever fancy name they'd called it, it was still sausage—was a little charred. But that didn't change the fact that she was hungry. And it also didn't change the fact that the mingled flavors of the puree, the fancy sausage, and the eggplant jam were undeniably appealing.\n\nWhen she was halfway through her meal, she heard raised voices coming from the kitchen, followed by the sound of breaking glass. A couple of possible scenarios there. Jackson and Max were throwing stemware, or maybe some frightened, beleaguered server had wandered through the kitchen at the wrong moment and had become startled.\n\nWhen she'd had enough—enough food, and also enough of Jackson's shenanigans—she placed her napkin next to her plate, gathered up her purse and her sweater, and walked out.\n\nThe evening was mild and clear. A few tourists walked on the wooden trail that led along the bluffs above the beach. The sun was down but the sky hadn't fully given way to darkness. A pale, silvery blue lay across the water, the day's last display of splendor.\n\nWhy hadn't she ordered dessert? She should have, should have ordered them all. When he got the check he'd think twice about abandoning a hungry woman at the dinner table.\n\nShe remembered the cupcakes. A crappy day, followed by a crappy evening, could maybe be salvaged with some really excellent cupcakes. It wouldn't hurt to try. She went to Jackson's truck, found it unlocked, and retrieved the pink box from the seat. She pulled her sweater on, walked across the two-lane road that separated The Sandpiper from the beach, and went down a rickety set of ancient wooden steps and onto the sand.\n\nThis close to darkness, most of the beachgoers were gone. A few people walked along the water line. A family with a small child, a couple holding hands. She found a seat on a piece of driftwood. The sound of the crashing waves was soothing. In the place where the sun had set, the water was a shimmery grey-blue, the color of forgotten dreams.\n\nShe pulled a cupcake out of the box and took a bite.\n\n_Oh, God_. She closed her eyes and her taste buds hummed. Despite the pleasure going on in her mouth, she couldn't help thinking of the chaos of her day.\n\nHer father. Althea. Jackson.\n\n_Shit._\n\nThat little yappy dog was probably chewing up her mother's copy of _Beyond the Boundaries of Desire_ right now, as she sat here.\n\nShe heard footsteps on the sand behind her just as she was digging into the second cupcake.\n\n\"Kate?\"\n\nShe turned her head and looked around, her mouth full of pistachio goodness. Jackson.\n\nHe sat down on the log beside her.\n\n\"You're eating my cupcake?\"\n\nShe swallowed and looked at him sideways. \"Who says it's yours? You brought them for me. That makes them mine. You want a cupcake, go back into The Sandpiper and make one. I'm sure Max won't mind.\"\n\nGiven his temper, she expected a fight. Was in the mood for one, actually. But instead of yelling, he chuckled.\n\n\"You're right. Giving up my cupcake is the least I can do. Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you at the table. That was rude.\"\n\n\"You think?\" She peeled the paper off the bottom of the last cupcake and popped the rest into her mouth.\n\n\"Max was pissed.\"\n\n\"He wasn't the only one.\" She wadded up the cupcake paper and put it back into the pink box.\n\nJackson turned to her. \"Look, Kate... \"\n\n\"Jackson. I don't know what you thought you were doing, but... \"\n\n\"I was nervous.\"\n\nShe wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to hear—some defense of his giant chef ego, maybe—but it wasn't that.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nHe looked down at his hands, which were resting in his lap. The posture was endearingly childlike. \"I was nervous. About the date. About you. And when I'm nervous... I control things. I'm never nervous in the kitchen. I think I just wanted to be somewhere I felt like I knew what I was doing.\"\n\nShe found his confession confounding. \"Now, why would you be nervous?\"\n\n\"Seriously?\"\n\n\"Yes. Seriously.\"\n\nNow he was the one exasperated. \"Because. Jesus. Is it possible you don't know that I've had a thing for you for years? My friends know. Your friends probably know. Lindsey back at the restaurant knows. I didn't want to fuck this up. So then I did. Fuck it up, I mean.\"\n\nThe wings of little birds flapped in her chest. Tiny starlings.\n\n\"You've had a thing for me for years?\"\n\nStill, he looked down at his hands. \"Ever since the first time I came into the bookstore.\"\n\n\"You bought a Michael Chabon.\"\n\nHe looked up at her. \"Yeah. You remember that?\"\n\n\"I have a photographic memory for every book my customers buy.\"\n\nHis eyebrows shot up. \"Really?\"\n\n\"No, you idiot.\" She smacked his arm. \"Not really. I remembered because it's you.\"\n\n\"Because... Oh.\" He grinned, and it melted her, just a little.\n\n\"Jackson. We've known each other for, what? Years. Why didn't you say something before now if you felt that way?\"\n\nHe picked up a small piece of driftwood from the sand and worried it in his hands. \"Because I don't do well with women.\"\n\nKate let out a little scoffing sound. \"That's not what I hear.\"\n\n\"That's not what I mean. I don't do well with women long term. We get together, we have fun, and then... \" He dropped the wood and made a gesture with his hands that might have indicated a magician's trick— _poof, it's gone_ —or might have indicated an explosion. _Boom._\n\nOne side of her mouth quirked up, and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. \"Did you leave them at restaurants?\"\n\n\"I might have. Once or twice. But, hell, what does it matter what I did in there? It's not like the date was going anywhere in the first place.\"\n\nShe sat up straight, surprised. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Oh, come on, Kate. You wouldn't _talk_ to me. Just small talk. Chitchat. It was clear you had a thousand things going on in your head, and they all had a big KEEP OUT sign posted on them.\"\n\nShe looked at him, started to say something, then stopped.\n\n\"See?\" He pointed at her. \"You won't _tell_ me anything. I want to get to know you, but you're not letting me in.\"\n\n\"It's our first date,\" she said, exasperated.\n\nHe made a seesawing gesture with his hand. \"Sort of.\"\n\n\"What do you mean 'sort of '?\"\n\n\"Our first date, yeah. But like you pointed out, we've known each other for years. Waving hello, how was your weekend, all of that superficial bullshit. We've already done the chitchat. I'm sick of chitchat.\"\n\nShe picked up the piece of wood he'd discarded and held it in her palm, turned it in her fingers. \"Well. I seem to remember talking to you—really talking to you—that night at my house. And you ran away.\"\n\n\"What?\" He looked confused.\n\n\"I talked about my mom, and how much I miss her, and _that_ was real. I _cried_ , for God's sake. And you couldn't get out of there fast enough.\"\n\n\"You... That's... \" He got up and stood on the sand in front of her. \"You thought that's why I left?\"\n\n\"Well, since I didn't see any bears chasing you, yeah.\"\n\nHe ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. \"Ah, Christ. That's... \" He gathered his thoughts. \"It was the kiss.\"\n\n\"The kiss.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Usually kissing someone is seen as a good thing. Usually, people stay.\"\n\n\"Uh huh. People stay, and then they have sex, and it's all hot and great, and it lasts for maybe a couple of weeks, and after that... \" He made the _poof_ gesture again.\n\nThough it was dark on the beach now, a light dawned in Kate's mind. He was scared. He wanted her for more than fun, for more than he'd had with other women. She _meant_ something.\n\n\"Come here. Sit down.\" She patted the log beside her. He sat, and she felt the warmth of him amid the cool evening. She scooted closer so that their bodies touched. She reached out and took his hand. He enveloped her hand in his, their fingers entwining. She rested her head on his shoulder, and she could hear him take in a deep, long breath.\n\n\"Okay,\" she said. \"You asked what was going on with my dad. He showed up unannounced, with enough luggage to suggest he plans to stay for a very long time. He and I... It's complicated. He left my mother for Angela when I was twenty-two. In some ways, it was a new beginning for my mom. She moved here, found her place in the world. But at the time, she was devastated. And so was I.\"\n\nHe squeezed her hand.\n\n\"Now, our relationship is mostly him seeing what he can get from me. He came to ask for money. I'm certain of that. And every time he shows up with an agenda instead of just wanting to be with me... \"\n\nTears rolled down her cheek, and she swiped at them with her free hand. \"See?\" She laughed bitterly. \"When I talk to you about real stuff, I end up crying.\"\n\nHe reached out and touched her chin, turned her face toward him, and spoke softly. \"I'm not running away. No bears.\"\n\n\"No bears?\" Her voice was a whisper.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nHe kissed her gently, and she felt a warmth spread through her that was like a hot bath, or a blanket on a cold day. Like the comfort of coming home.\n\n# 13\n\nThey walked on the beach in the moonlight, holding hands. He told her about how he'd come to live in Cambria. A guy he'd known in culinary school had decided to open a restaurant in one of California's most scenic towns and had recruited him to become head chef. She told him about her marriage and divorce—the short version. Marcus had been abusive, not physically but emotionally. He'd slept with other women and then gaslighted her, trying to convince her that her suspicions were the result of her own paranoia and emotional fragility.\n\nWhen they came to the end of Moonstone Beach, to where the sand ends below the bluffs, he kissed her again. He turned her to him and wrapped her in his arms. The kiss before had been sweet, comforting. This one was urgent, sending a surge of electricity through her veins. She felt his heartbeat against her body, tasted his mouth, felt the rightness of it. The inevitability of him.\n\nThey walked back hand in hand, Kate feeling an excitement just under her skin. She hadn't expected this, whatever this was. Especially after the restaurant debacle, she hadn't expected to feel this.\n\nBy the time they got back to his truck, it was later than she'd expected. They'd been on the beach, talking, getting to know each other, for much longer than it had seemed.\n\n\"I guess I'd better take you home,\" he said, holding her in his arms beside the Silverado.\n\n\"I guess you'd better.\" She rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. \"I'd invite you back to my house, but my father and stepmother are there.\"\n\n\"Mm hmm,\" he murmured.\n\n\"There's your place,\" she said.\n\nHe looked down at her. \"Next time,\" he said. \"Or the time after that. Soon.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"All right.\"\n\nHe opened the door for her and tucked her inside. Then he drove her home, to the place where she'd have to deal with the reality of her father and Angela.\n\nThey said goodnight at the door. She could see in his face that he didn't want to leave her, didn't want the evening to end with a proper, chaste goodbye. But this was new, this was something different. Jackson wasn't going to treat her like the others, and so she watched him drive off, a goofy grin on her face as she went inside.\n\nShe had expected to find her father and Angela watching TV or eating her food. She'd expected to find her belongings chewed and their luggage and clothing all over the living room.\n\nShe hadn't expected to find that they'd locked her out of her room.\n\nKate's part of the tiny house had just one bedroom, and they were in it, with the door locked behind them. The only bathroom was in there, too. At first, she thought she must be misunderstanding the situation. Were they even in there? Had they accidentally locked the door before they'd gone out somewhere? But the pink Cadillac was still in the driveway, and she could hear Jazzy snuffling at other side of the bedroom door.\n\nFor a minute, she just stood there in exasperation. They took her room. They were sleeping in her bed. She'd known they would try to manipulate her into giving them the bedroom. But it was one thing to know that, and another to come home and find that they'd taken over without discussion, intentionally locking her out so she couldn't get her things, couldn't even pee, for Christ's sake. And she really did have to pee.\n\nShe weighed her options. She knew she should bang on the door, demand that they clear out, and take back her bed. But the evening had been so lovely—the part on the beach with Jackson, not the part earlier, when her father and Angela had arrived unannounced. She didn't want to end the night with a family blowout, with yelling and accusations and the laying on of guilt.\n\nKate put her ear against the door and could hear her father snoring thunderously.\n\n_Jesus._\n\nWhen she'd come in, she noticed that the light was still on downstairs in Gen's place. She checked the clock on the stove and saw that it wasn't quite midnight. She grabbed her purse, went down the outside stairway, and knocked gently on Gen's door.\n\nGen opened up wearing a leopard print robe and pink fuzzy slippers. Her face was eager as she greeted Kate. \"Hey! How was the date?\"\n\n\"Good. Really good. I need to use your bathroom.\"\n\n\"Okay. What's wrong with yours?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't believe it.\"\n\nShe stood back to let Kate in. \"Is it a good story?\"\n\n\"It's a story, anyway. Let me pee first. Then the story.\"\n\nA few minutes later, when Kate and Gen were sitting cross-legged on Gen's bed like a couple of teenagers, Kate's shoes kicked off and tossed aside, Gen said, \"Okay, so what's going on?\"\n\n\"My father and Angela locked me out of my bedroom.\"\n\nGen's eyes grew wide. \"They _what?_ \"\n\n\"Not only are they staying with me when I explicitly told them they weren't invited, they waited until I was gone on my date, and then they moved into my room and locked me out, so I can't even get my pajamas or use my own bathroom.\"\n\n\" _No shit_.\" Gen seemed to be in awe of their audacity. There might even have been a hint of admiration in her voice.\n\n\"I don't know what to do. Do I pound on the door, get them out of there, and send them to a Motel 6, or what?\"\n\nGen nodded. \"Yeah, you probably should.\"\n\n\"Seriously?\"\n\n\"Yes. Look, honey, I know he's your dad, and there are some... _feelings_ there. But he takes advantage of you. It's what he does. He doesn't call for months on end, and then when he does, it's because he needs money, or he needs a favor, or... \"\n\n\"Or he wants to stay in my house and take over my bedroom.\"\n\nGen reached out and squeezed Kate's arm. \"Yes.\"\n\nKate rubbed at her eyes. \"I know. You're right. But I can't really deal with this tonight.\"\n\n\"Stressful first date?\" Gen asked in sympathy.\n\n\"Yes and no. Yes, because first dates are always stressful, and also because Jackson abandoned me at the restaurant. But also no, because then there was the beach, and talking, and kissing. And cupcakes.\"\n\nGen adjusted her position and leaned back into a pile of pillows, getting comfortable. \"Ooh. Kissing.\"\n\n\"Oh, God, yes, the kissing. Jackson is... he's just... \" Nothing she could say to Gen would adequately describe the kissing.\n\n\"I see,\" Gen said.\n\n\"He's all blustery and angry and intimidating, and I think he threw some glasses in the kitchen. But he _listens_ , and he's so... just so... \" Kate held out her arms to indicate the enormity of what Jackson was.\n\n\"Oh, sweetie. You're gone.\"\n\n\"I know!\" Kate flopped down on the bed and pulled a pillow over her head.\n\n\"He threw glasses in the kitchen?\"\n\nKate peeked out from under the pillow. \"Maybe. It might have been Max.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait.\" Gen waved her hands in the air. \"Back up. Tell me what happened at the restaurant.\"\n\nKate told her, and Gen chuckled, shaking her head. \"I've always heard stories about that Jackson Graham temper. Jeez.\"\n\n\"So I ate his cupcake.\"\n\n\"As well you should have, sweetie,\" Gen cooed. \"As well you should have.\"\n\n\"Can I sleep here tonight?\" Kate said.\n\nGen sighed. \"Of course you can. But tomorrow, you have to do something about this.\" She pointed one finger at the ceiling.\n\n\"I will. I promise I will.\"\n\nShe fully intended to do something about the father situation the next morning, but she couldn't, because she woke up late, and when she went upstairs at a little after eight a.m., her father and Angela were gone. A note pinned to the refrigerator with a magnet said, _Gone out for breakfast. You need to buy groceries!!! See you when you get home from work. Dad._\n\nKate sighed and crumpled up the note. Apparently her hostess skills were lacking. When someone turned up on your doorstep uninvited and took over your bedroom, you were supposed to have fresh croissants and a fruit platter ready for them when they woke up in the morning. Maybe some mimosas.\n\nShe peeked into her bedroom. The bed hadn't been made, and the sheets and blankets were in a tangle. An open suitcase lay on the floor, its contents scattered part in, part out of the case. In the bathroom, wet towels lay on the floor in puddles of water from the shower.\n\nAt least the dog wasn't here. Kate pictured it in Angela's purse, its fuzzy head peeking out while Angela and Kate's father ate eggs Benedict at The Sandpiper.\n\nKate checked the clock. She had two hours until Swept Away opened at ten a.m. She knew she should gather up their things, stuff them in the suitcase, put the suitcase on the front doorstep, and lock the door when she left for work. She could leave a note on top with the names of some excellent local hotels.\n\nShe seriously considered it for a moment, but the thought of the guilt her father would lay on her for months afterward stopped her. At least they were gone right now, and she could take a shower and get ready for work.\n\nIn the shower, she discovered that someone—likely Angela—had used the last of her shampoo.\n\nAt the shop that morning, Kate opened for the day. She put out the sandwich board—today's special was biographies, twenty percent off—put out some cat kibble and fresh water for Jane Austen, and cleaned Jane's litter box. Then she checked her emails. Amid the spam, the book order information, and the marketing emails from publishers, she found a message from Cassidy McLean. She clicked it open.\n\n_Dear Kate,_\n\n_I'd love to appear at your Art Walk event. Cambria is so quaint and lovely! I'll bring Samantha with me, she's always a hit at get-togethers. Let's chat on the phone to pin down the details._\n\n_Kisses, Cass_\n\nSamantha? Who was Samantha? Kate Googled Cassidy McLean with the name Samantha, wondering if perhaps she was a partner at the wildlife refuge. It turned out that Samantha was a ring-tailed lemur.\n\n_Hmm. Okay. That's something the souvenir shop down the street won't have._\n\nKate returned the email, confirming that Cassidy and Samantha would appear at the Art Walk event and suggesting a time for them to discuss it on the phone. Then she Googled ring-tailed lemurs to have some idea what to expect.\n\nWhile she was doing that, the bell above the door rang, and Althea came into the shop with a cat carrier.\n\n\"Althea.\" Kate greeted her coolly.\n\n\"Kate. I just came by to pick up Jane Austen.\"\n\nKate stood there mutely. She couldn't possibly have heard correctly.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Jane Austen. I came to get her. I'd have taken her with me the day I was _forced out of my job_ , but I had to locate a cat carrier. As you can see, I have one. Jane! Jane Austen! Come here, girl.\" Althea hunched down toward the floor and started hunting around for the cat.\n\n\"What makes you think you can take my cat?\" Kate demanded.\n\n\"Your cat? There must be some mistake,\" Althea said, her heavily lipsticked mouth arranged in a pout. \"Jane Austen is, and has always been, _my_ cat.\"\n\nKate took a moment to think about whether this was true. Two years ago, Jane Austen had walked into the store on a day when Kate had left the front door open to let in the cool ocean breeze. She'd made herself comfortable, climbing onto one of the easy chairs Kate provided for customers who wanted to sit and read. Jane Austen had settled in for a nap, and Kate hadn't had the heart to move her. When she'd returned the next day, and the next, Kate had bought her a bag of kibble, food and water bowls, and a litter box. She'd lived here ever since.\n\n\"She's not yours,\" Kate protested. \"She lives in the store. She's the Swept Away cat!\"\n\nAlthea straightened and crossed her arms defiantly. \"Who usually puts out her food and water? Who usually cleans her litter box?\"\n\n\"We both do that!\"\n\n\"Hmm. Seems to me that in the last week I worked for you, I did those chores five times out of seven. _Five times_ out of _seven!_ So if anyone has a claim to this cat, it's me. Now, where is that cat? Jane Austen! Come on, sweetie, Mommy's going to take you home!\"\n\nKate felt helpless. It was true that Althea probably fed the cat more often than Kate did. It was also true that Jane Austen had never lived at either one of their homes—she'd always been the shop's cat. Kate didn't have a bill of sale or papers of adoption to prove Jane Austen was hers. She'd just always thought of it that way.\n\n\"I'm the one who took her to get spayed!\" Kate offered desperately. \"I'm the one who takes her to get her vaccinations!\"\n\n\"Humph.\" Althea looked at her with the scowl again. \"You did those things because _I_ told you they needed to be done. Why, if I hadn't badgered you about it, there's no telling _what_ would have become of poor Jane! She'd probably have had two litters by now. Not to mention a nasty case of distemper!\"\n\nAlthea located Jane Austen under a table and bent down to pick her up. \"There you are!\" Kate was trying to figure out what to do, how to stop Althea, whether it would be prudent or effective to block the door with her body, when Jackson came in the front door of the shop.\n\n\"Hey, Kate.\" He had a sexy smile on his face as he came in and approached her. \"I just thought I'd stop by on my way to work and tell you... \"\n\n\"There!\" Althea said in triumph after forcing the yowling, protesting cat into the carrier and snapping the door shut.\n\n\"What's going on here?\" Jackson asked.\n\n\"I'm taking my cat,\" Althea announced.\n\n\"She's taking _my_ cat,\" Kate said miserably. \"She quit, and she's striking out at me by _stealing my cat_.\"\n\n\"If you don't like it, call the police!\" Althea said, picking up Jane Austen's carrier and facing Kate in defiance. \"You can explain to them how she's your cat even though she _loves me more!_ \"\n\n\"Oh, come on,\" Kate protested. \"That's just... \"\n\nAlthea headed toward the door, and Jackson took a couple of steps and stood in front of her, blocking her way. \"Put down the cat,\" he said.\n\n_Oh, God_. The last thing Kate needed was Jackson blowing a gasket and kicking an old lady's ass in the middle of her store. \"Jackson... \" she began.\n\n\"If you'll just step aside,\" Althea said.\n\n\"I'm asking you to put down the cat,\" Jackson said again, his voice calm—for the moment.\n\nKate could see this all heading downhill faster than an Olympic skier. Jackson would yell. Althea would cry. They might engage in a struggle for the cat carrier, each with a hand on the handle, pulling, until poor Jane Austen either got shaken violently inside the carrier or crashed to the floor.\n\nAlthea's face was turning red in indignation. \"Jackson Graham, don't you bully me. This is my cat, and I'm leaving! Get out of my way!\" Her shoulders were squared and her face was set in an expression of grim determination.\n\nJackson was gearing up for battle—Kate could see it in his face, as well. He'd sort of puffed up, like certain animal species did when they wanted to appear bigger to a potential rival. Which was ridiculous, since Jackson already was a foot taller than Althea.\n\n\"Althea. I told you to put down the cat. Don't make me take that carrier away from you.\" His voice was so intimidating, Kate could practically see his restaurant staff quaking in their kitchen clogs.\n\n\"Now, just hold on,\" Kate said.\n\nThey didn't hear her. Althea and Jackson were speaking over each other as the situation escalated.\n\n\"I'm leaving with this cat, and there's nothing you can... \"\n\n\"I'd like to see you get through me, you decrepit old... \"\n\n\"Stop!\" Kate placed herself between Althea and Jackson. She faced Jackson and put her hands on his chest in a gesture meant to calm him. \"Jackson, I want you to stop,\" she said. Without turning around, she said, \"Althea, I want you to go out the back door. Please do it. Right now.\"\n\n\"I'm taking Jane Austen,\" Althea said stubbornly.\n\n\"Take her. Just go.\"\n\n\"But my car... \"\n\n\"Althea, for God's sake.\"\n\nThe older woman must have realized she was pushing things too far, because she hurried out the back door with the cat carrier handle clutched in her fist. As she went, she defiantly looked at Kate, and then grabbed the bag of cat kibble from the counter.\n\nKate continued to stand with her open hands resting on Jackson's chest. He was breathing fast, his face still reddened by anger. She peered up into his face, worried that he might explode and start throwing books. At least they wouldn't break the way the stemware at the restaurant had.\n\n\"Jackson?\" she tried tentatively.\n\n\"Yeah, what?\"\n\n\"Take a deep breath.\"\n\nHe did.\n\n\"Okay?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"You sure?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nShe lowered her hands and took a step back. \"You can't just get into fights with old ladies.\"\n\n\"I can't believe you let her take your cat.\" His voice was tight, angry.\n\n\"I can deal with that later.\"\n\n\"Why did you let her take your cat?\"\n\n\"Jackson.\" She took his hand and led him over to the two easy chairs she had set up in her reading nook. \"Listen. I appreciate that you were standing up for me, but you can't yell at old ladies in my store. Or anywhere, really.\"\n\nHe took another deep breath and looked at the floor. \"Yeah. Okay. I know. But somebody had to do something. You were just going to let her go. You did just let her go.\"\n\n\"What was I supposed to do? Look. I want to see you again. There's... something... between us. I want to find out what that is. But you can't make a big, angry scene every time we're together. That just won't work for me.\" She put a hand on his arm.\n\nHe stretched his neck in a calming-down gesture. \"Last night,\" he said. \"You stood up to me. You told me I was an asshole at the restaurant. And I was—you were right. People don't usually stand up to me, but you did. Why couldn't you do that with Althea?\"\n\nIt was a good question. Why _couldn't_ she do that with Althea? _And why can't I do that with my father?_\n\n\"I guess we both have things to work on,\" she said.\n\n# 14\n\nJackson, Daniel, Ryan, and Will played in a recreational baseball league every fall, and in an effort not to embarrass themselves when the season started, they tried to make regular visits to the batting cages in summer, just so they wouldn't look like idiots in September. They had to go all the way down to San Luis Obispo to the nearest facility, but it seemed like a reasonable price to pay to avoid humiliation.\n\nThe day after the cat incident was hot and dry, the temperature higher than what they usually expected here on the Central Coast. Ryan was visibly sweating through his T-shirt as he lined up at the plate, waiting for the pitching machine to hurl balls at him.\n\n\"So, what's the status with Kate?\" Ryan asked Jackson as he swung and missed.\n\n\"Morning date next Thursday. Breakfast and a hike. I'd like to see her sooner than that, but it's the only time I can get off from the restaurant when she's not at the shop.\"\n\nRyan nodded. \"Okay, a beach hike. That can be good. Romantic. Crashing waves and all that.\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"Just don't bitch about the pancakes,\" Will added.\n\n\"I know, I know.\"\n\nRyan made solid contact with the ball for a decent hit, and Daniel called encouragement to him. \"That's the way, Ry! You got it!\"\n\n\"So.\" Daniel brought the subject back to Kate. \"I guess things are moving along, then?\"\n\nJackson shrugged. \"More or less. But she let me know she's not on board with my angry Neanderthal routine.\"\n\n\"Uh-oh,\" Will said. \"Is that still about the first date incident, or did something else happen?\"\n\nJackson grimly watched Ryan hitting some pitches and missing others, and didn't answer.\n\n\"Something else happened,\" Daniel said. \"I'm gathering.\"\n\nJackson sighed and looked at them. \"I came into her shop yesterday morning, and Althea Morgan—the old biddy who used to work there, until she quit—was stealing Kate's cat.\"\n\n\"Jane Austen,\" Will said.\n\n\"Right. She just came in with a goddamned cat carrier, loaded up the cat, and took it.\" The muscles bunched up in his jaw, tension building just from the memory.\n\n\"Jackson, you're up,\" Ryan said as he vacated his spot in the cage.\n\nJackson hefted his bat and stepped up to the plate. The pitching machine hurled a ball at him much faster than he remembered from the last time he'd come here. He swung hard and missed.\n\n\"So you pulled out your club and your big rock and went after Althea?\" Will asked.\n\nJackson swung and hit a hard ground ball. \"Nothing that dramatic. But I did tell her to put down the damned cat and walk away slowly.\"\n\n\"Uh-oh,\" Ryan said.\n\nTwo more strikes, and then a solid fly ball to what would have been left field. \"Yeah,\" Jackson said.\n\n\"So you threw down with an old lady to protect Kate's honor?\" Ryan said.\n\nSwing, miss.\n\n\"Something like that. But Kate didn't see it that way.\" The bat cracked against the ball. Foul ball to the right. \"Told Althea to take the cat and run out the back door, like she thought I was going to go postal on her. Then she gave me a speech about how if we're going to do this thing—which she says she wants to do—then I've got to tone it down. Be civilized. Stop intimidating senior citizens.\"\n\nPop fly to the imaginary shortstop. That one would have been an out.\n\nJackson's turn came to an end and Will took his place.\n\n\"It's not an unreasonable request,\" Daniel said.\n\n\"No, I guess not.\" The hitting practice had taken some of the tension out of his shoulders, but not all of it. He stretched.\n\n\"Then what's got you all worked up?\" Ryan asked.\n\nJackson turned to him. \"She took the goddamned cat, and Kate didn't do anything about it. She just stood there. Her father and stepmother—who Kate can't stand, by the way—moved into her house after Kate told them no, they couldn't come. I mean, what is that? Why does she let people walk all over her? She's so... But then she just... \"\n\nWill, the power hitter among them, smacked a hard fly to left. \"And you want to protect her,\" he said.\n\n\"Well... Yeah.\"\n\n\"And she doesn't want to be protected.\" Smack. He hit a ball that would have been over the damned fence.\n\n\"No, she doesn't. At least, not by me.\" Jesus, Will could hit. Jackson felt thankful they were on the same team. \"But she's not some milquetoast. I get out of line, she tells me to can it in no uncertain terms.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" Daniel said. \"I'm seeing a certain complement of personalities here.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" Jackson said.\n\nKate had to hire somebody. She could handle the shop alone, she supposed, but she didn't relish the idea of working seven days a week, and she also didn't want to have to manage the upcoming Art Walk without a little help. She couldn't draft any of her friends as temporary employees, because they all had their own jobs or their own businesses to run. A couple of days after Althea's departure, she'd posted a Help Wanted ad online and also on a couple of bulletin boards in town. She'd put a sign in her window, and she'd also been asking people if they knew anyone who needed a part-time job.\n\nKate was looking wistfully at Jane Austen's bed, vacant but covered in cat hair, when a young man with black dyed hair, two sleeves of tattoos, a pierced eyebrow, and what appeared to be eyeliner came into the store. The guy, who looked to be in his early twenties, was dressed all in black, and had hair that swooped down to cover one eye.\n\n\"May I help you?\" Kate asked. She'd seen the kid around town here and there. She seemed to recall that he was the son of one of the ladies who came to the monthly book club Kate sponsored.\n\n\"Um, yeah.\" The kid shifted from one foot to another. \"I came about the job. My mom said you were looking for somebody, and she sent me over.\"\n\n\"Your mother is Beverly MacPherson.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's her.\"\n\nKate held out her hand. \"Kate Bennet.\"\n\nHe shook with her. His grip was surprisingly firm and businesslike. \"Fury McPherson.\"\n\nKate's eyebrows rose. \"Excuse me? Your mother said your name was Brandon.\"\n\nHis head bobbed up and down. \"It used to be.\"\n\n\"So, is Fury some kind of nickname, then?\"\n\n\"No, it's my actual name. I had it changed.\" He pulled out his wallet, fished his driver's license from the pocket, and showed it to her.\n\n\"Huh,\" Kate said. She handed the license back to him. Beverly hadn't mentioned the name change, probably hoping that if she failed to acknowledge it, then it might not be true.\n\nKate looked the kid over. He was decidedly out of place in Cambria, where people tended toward conservative clothing—unless they were going the Earth-loving, granola-eating direction of peasant skirts and Birkenstocks. Kate had to imagine that Fury—or Brandon, back then—had been lonely in high school, forming his own little clique of one. Sure, Rose favored tattoos and facial piercings, but she hadn't grown up here.\n\nKate's hopes were not high when she said, \"Okay, tell me a little bit about why you'd be a good fit for Swept Away.\"\n\nHe stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black skinny jeans. \"Well, I like books. I read a lot. I'm taking classes at the community college down in SLO, but a couple of them are online, so I'd be available whenever you need me. Just about. Except for Monday and Wednesday mornings.\"\n\nThey discussed his job history—he was a busboy at a local burger joint, and he'd spent time pumping gas at the Shell station on Main Street—and his references. She'd nodded, not paying a great deal of attention, when he'd listed the manager of the burger joint and one of his community college teachers. But she perked up considerably when he gave her the name of his Scoutmaster.\n\n\"As in Boy Scouts of America?\" she said.\n\nHe looked embarrassed. \"My mom got me into it when I was this high.\" He held his hand out at about his waist. \"Mostly, it was pretty cool. My Eagle Scout project was kinda awesome.\"\n\nShe blinked at him. \"You're an Eagle Scout?\"\n\nHe shrugged.\n\n\"You had an Eagle Scout project.\" She was getting it all straight in her head.\n\n\"You kinda need one to become an Eagle Scout. I organized a group to clean up a hiking trail in Big Sur. We built a bench.\"\n\n\"A bench.\"\n\n\"You know, for hikers. So they can sit.\"\n\n\"Wow.\"\n\nWhen they were in the middle of their conversation, an older woman—a tourist, based on the Cambria tote bag she was carrying—came into the store and started browsing one of the bookshelves.\n\n\"Let's see how you do,\" Kate said to the young man.\n\n\"You mean now?\" He looked nervous.\n\n\"Sure. Go ahead. Help that customer.\" She gestured toward the woman.\n\nHe wandered casually over to the woman. \"Welcome to Swept Away,\" he said. \"Can I help you with something?\"\n\nThe woman looked up, blanched at his appearance, and then stammered. \"I... uh... I was... I was just looking for a book to read. Something light, for my vacation.\"\n\n\"Right, right.\" His head bobbed again. \"Any particular genre?\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" She thought. \"Maybe romance.\"\n\n\"Okay. You've probably read all of the Nora Roberts.\"\n\n\"Actually, no,\" the woman said. \"I've never read any of her books.\"\n\nHis eyebrows—the pierced and the unpierced—shot upward. The little sterling silver ring above his right eye bounced. \"Dude. You like romance but you've never read _Nora_? How is that even possible?\"\n\nThe woman looked flustered. \"Well, I... \"\n\n\"Don't worry, we'll fix you up,\" he said. He scanned the romance shelf until he found the sizable Nora Roberts section.\n\nHe looked at the woman. \"Romance plus murder, or just romance?\"\n\n\"Just romance.\"\n\n\"High conflict or low conflict?\"\n\n\"Um.\" She considered this. \"Low, I guess.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Humor or no humor?\"\n\n\"Oh, humor, for sure.\"\n\nHe plucked a book off the shelf. \"Here ya go. It's the first in a three-part series, so if you like it, there's more where that came from.\"\n\nThe customer left the store smiling, with a newly purchased book in her tote bag. When she was gone, Kate asked him, \"You read romance?\"\n\n\"Ugh, no.\" He gave an exaggerated shudder.\n\n\"Then how do you know so much about it?\"\n\n\"My mom reads _everything_ ,\" he said. \"And then she talks about it. Endlessly.\"\n\nKate chuckled. From her experience at the book club with Beverly McPherson, that description was right on target.\n\n\"One thing,\" she said.\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"It's probably best not to call the elderly female customers 'Dude.' \"\n\n# 15\n\nKate had made progress in some areas of her life, and less progress in others, by the morning of her second date with Jackson. She'd hired Fury and had started to train him. She'd talked on the phone with Cassidy McLean and confirmed her—and her lemur—for the Art Walk. But she'd still failed to get her father and Angela out of her house. It had been one week and three days, and they were still ensconced in her bedroom with their snowdrifts of clothing everywhere and their yappy little dog destroying her things: one shoe, a table leg, two books, and a TV remote, at last count.\n\nAs she was getting ready for her morning hiking date—jeans, a cute scoop-necked T-shirt, and sneakers—she tried again to get some kind of read on what her father's plans were. And when he and Angela were likely to leave.\n\n\"So,\" she said, tying on her sneakers and trying to sound casual. \"You haven't really mentioned how long you're planning to stay.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Thomas said offhandedly, looking up from his newspaper. \"We're playing it by ear. It's so nice to finally spend some time with you. Why rush that?\"\n\n\"Why indeed,\" she murmured. Then, louder: \"It's just, I don't want to impose on Gen any longer than I have to. Have you made any progress finding space at a B&B? I can help with that, if you like.\"\n\nHe shook his head sadly. \"They're all so full in the summer. Plus, so few of them take dogs.\"\n\nShe didn't think that was true—it seemed to her that a wide variety of accommodations in town accepted pets—but she didn't say anything.\n\nAngela came bustling in from outside, where she'd been walking Jazzy. She unclipped the dog's leash, planted her hands on her hips, and said, \"Is _that_ how you're going to do your makeup?\"\n\n\"It's hiking. We're going hiking. There'll be sweating, and... It didn't seem like a lot of makeup would be required.\"\n\n\"Good lord,\" Angela said, scowling. \"I can see I'm going to have to do something with you.\" She grabbed Kate's arm and hauled her toward the bathroom.\n\nTwenty minutes later, Kate was sitting across the table from Jackson at a café in town, a croissant and a latte in front of her, her face done up in more makeup than one would expect to wear for a role on Broadway. Since Kate didn't usually wear much makeup—a little concealer, mascara and lip gloss, and she generally called it done—the contrast was striking.\n\n\"Wow,\" Jackson had said when they'd met outside the café. \"You know we're just hiking, right?\"\n\n\"I know, I know.\" She glared at him. \"Angela sells Mary Kay.\"\n\nJackson looked bewildered. \"And Mary Kay is... \"\n\n\"Makeup!\" Kate had waved both hands in front of her face, drawing attention to Exhibit A. \"It's... all this! Ugh. I want that woman out of my house!\"\n\nJackson had chuckled. \"It's not that you don't look nice. It's just... a little much for hiking.\"\n\n\"Gee, you think?\" Kate had retorted.\n\nNow, Kate was enjoying a warm pastry and a creamy latte while Jackson dug into a thick slice of quiche that he pronounced acceptable. The café was busy with locals at this time of the morning, the tourists mostly still in their plush hotel beds or partaking of the breakfast buffet at the lodge up the hill. It was still early, but the bright morning sunlight poured in through the front window. The café, it's décor rustic with dark wood surfaces and mismatched chairs, smelled of coffee and fresh bread.\n\nBy the second date, it was no longer possible to avoid discussing one's ex-husband. So Kate was filling Jackson in on the particulars: She and Marcus had been married six years, separated after five. The divorce had become final two and a half years after he and Kate had moved to Cambria. Cambria had been part of the problem—Marcus had hated it here, feeling that he was stuck in the middle of nowhere. When they had split, he'd gone back to Los Angeles as fast as his car would carry him.\n\n\"I don't want to dwell on it, because dwelling on it makes me sound weak and pathetic,\" Kate said stoically as she popped a piece of croissant into her mouth. \"But if we're going to be seeing each other, you deserve to know the basics. Marcus and I got married when I was just out of grad school. That's where I met him—at UCLA. He was engineering, I was English. Anyway. He cheated. A lot. I'd pick up on clues and ask him what was going on, and he'd spin things to make it look like I was so paranoid or emotionally fragile that he was the hero for putting up with me.\"\n\n\"He made you doubt yourself.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\nJackson looked down at his plate, his face showing that Jackson anger that was becoming so familiar to Kate. \"I met him a few times right after I started working at Neptune. Seemed like an asshole,\" Jackson said. \"Guys like that give all of us a bad name. I'd like to kick his ass.\"\n\n\"So would I,\" Kate said.\n\n\"But you left him eventually,\" Jackson said. \"So that's good.\"\n\nShe shook her head and sipped at her latte. \"I wish I had. I wish I'd shown that kind of sense. He left me. For somebody named Tiffany. Probably one in a long line of Tiffanys. It was only then that I could start to see clearly what he'd done to me. Emotionally, I mean. How he'd manipulated me.\" She shuddered. \"I'm thankful we never had kids. At least I don't have to see him to deal with child support and weekend visits, and... \" She gestured with her hand to indicate all the myriad ways parents had to remain involved with each other. \"Tiffany would be my kid's stepmother. Or someone like Tiffany. God forbid.\"\n\n\"What if he hadn't been a cheating asshole? Would you have had kids?\"\n\nShe considered the question carefully before answering. \"Not at first. I was very involved in my career for those first years. The novel, my teaching job. I thought I wanted tenure, wanted a life in academia. I was very involved in trying to be somebody. I don't know if kids would have fit into that.\"\n\n\"And now?\"\n\nShe shrugged. \"Now I'm building a different kind of life. A quieter one. And with my mother gone, I'm starting to see how important family really is.\"\n\nThey decided to hike a three-mile trail that started at the beach in San Simeon and curved inward among the grassy hills and the eucalyptus groves. This time of year—the dry season—the hills were golden, with tall grasses that rippled in the breeze. During the rainy season—or, as rainy as it got here, which wasn't very—the grass turned a deep green that covered the rolling hills in a rich emerald. This early in the morning, the temperature was pleasant and cool. Already, a number of people, mostly locals, walked the trails alone or with their dogs.\n\nAs they walked, Kate was reminded again why she'd moved here. The beach, the pines, the vast stretches of unspoiled land dotted with grazing cows. This was so different from L.A., which she had once thought to be the center of the universe. Now, after living here for five years, she felt suffocated whenever she returned to the urban sprawl. Concrete, crowds, rivers of cars idling on the freeways, waiting to go nowhere. All signs of the natural world vanquished, even on the beaches, which had been reduced to flat expanses of featureless sand. Her mother had given her a gift by coming here and leading Kate to follow her. It was a simpler life. A better one. A life with a sense of peace, of meaning.\n\n\"What are you thinking about?\" Jackson asked as they walked among the trees, the ground crunching beneath their feet, the sound of the crashing waves behind them.\n\n\"This place,\" Kate answered, gesturing around her. \"I still can't get over how beautiful it is here. You'd think that after five years, I'd have stopped noticing, stopped seeing it. But this... \" She shook her head in wonder.\n\n\"You don't miss L.A.?\" he asked, glancing back at her from his place ahead of her on the trail.\n\n\"Not a bit. Well,\" she amended, \"sometimes I do when I want to shop at Nordstrom. But otherwise, no. I didn't understand it at first when my mother just picked up her whole life and moved here. I thought she was having some kind of late-midlife crisis, reacting to the whole mess with my dad. But I get it now. She knew what she was doing.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" He nodded. \"The Bay Area's different. Beautiful in its own right. I do miss it sometimes. The night life. The restaurant culture—it's exciting for a chef. When Gavin—my friend from culinary school—opened Neptune, I thought I'd come down here, put in a few years, then take my expertise and parlay into something in San Francisco. But once you're here, it's hard to leave.\" He looked around at the stunning beauty that surrounded them. \"This is a lot to give up.\"\n\nWhen the trail widened so that they no longer had to go single file, he walked beside her and reached out to hold her hand. His hand was big and warm around hers. She felt a tingle of joy at his touch.\n\nThey'd been walking for about a half-hour, a light sheen of sweat mixing with Kate's Mary Kay makeup, when a tall, blond woman wearing tight spandex workout shorts and a sport bra came toward them on the trail. She was wearing earbuds, and at first she didn't see them. Then she looked up, spotted Jackson, and smiled in surprise.\n\n\"Jackson!\" She pulled the earbuds from her ears, came forward, went up on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on Jackson's cheek.\n\n\"Melanie.\" Jackson looked uncomfortable. Kate took in the body language—Melanie and the way she positioned her sculpted hips and tilted her body toward him, Jackson and the way he'd become fidgety, the way he was leaning slightly away from her. \"Uh... This is Kate Bennet. Have you two met?\"\n\nMelanie's eyes swept over Kate from head to toe and apparently found her lacking. \"Not formally, but I've been into the bookstore a few times,\" she said.\n\n\"Lovely to see you again,\" Kate replied.\n\nMelanie turned the considerable wattage of her attention back to Jackson.\n\n\"You never called me,\" she said to him, her voice a sinewy purr. \"My number hasn't changed.\"\n\nJackson shot a glance at Kate. \"Ah... This isn't really the best... \"\n\nMelanie looked at Kate and smirked. She stretched up toward Jackson's ear and whispered to him. Kate could just make out what she said: \"When you're done with her... give me a call.\"\n\nThe admirably fit blond bimbo bounced up the trail, and Jackson faced Kate, apology and embarrassment in his expression. \"Kate, I'm sorry about that.\"\n\nKate stood with her arms crossed over her chest, head cocked to one side, gazing at him. \"Is this going to happen often? This running-into-women-you've-slept-with thing? Twice in two dates—that's a pretty impressive start.\"\n\nHe ran a hand through his hair. \"I'd like to say no, but... it might.\"\n\n\"You've been busy,\" she said.\n\nHe walked to a nearby bench and sat down, looking uncomfortable. She sat beside him.\n\n\"I have kind of a history, I guess,\" he said. \"Is that going to be something you can live with?\"\n\nKate shrugged. \"Well, I can't say that I enjoyed that encounter with Melanie. But I know about your 'history.' Word gets around.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"I guess it does.\" He looked at her. \"I want this to be different.\" His face was so open, so earnest, that she believed him.\n\n\"And that's why we didn't sleep together that first night? When you were teaching me to cook?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Kate, I don't know where this is going to go, if it's going to go anywhere. But I do know that all of the sex, all of the casual two-weeks-and-then-move-on shit, it's not what I want anymore. I want to get to know you. I want you to get to know me. And then, I want this thing between us to succeed or fail based on something real.\"\n\nThe way he was looking at her, the honesty and yearning, tugged at her core. A wave of warmth ran through her. And oh, God, the irony. She found herself wanting him more than she'd wanted any man in longer than she could remember—precisely because he'd said he was not going to sleep with her. Or, really, it was more the way he'd said it. Either way, she needed to touch him, to taste him. She felt like her skin was on fire.\n\n\"Jackson... \" She drew toward him. He hesitated, and then kissed her. And the world around them vanished as her body ignited. The desire was no longer something she felt; the desire was a living thing inside her. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent. Her arms wrapped around him, the warmth and strength of his back humming beneath her spread fingers.\n\nHe crushed her to him, his mouth on hers, and she felt light, small, alive in a way she could barely remember feeling before. He groaned, and she could feel the vibration of it through her body.\n\nGently, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.\n\n\"Kate. God.\" He pulled back from her and took a deep breath.\n\n\"We could go back to my house,\" she whispered. Then she remembered her father and Angela. \"Or, no. Your apartment?\" The hot, seething yearning made her forget how early it was in their relationship, how unwise it might be to jump into something, the things he'd said about wanting this to be different. She forgot everything but this. Everything but him. \"Please.\"\n\nHe stood, backed away, put some distance between them. \"I want to. God, you have no idea... But... \"\n\n\"So, we're just going to ignore this thing we've got between us?\" Her frustration put an edge into her voice. \"We're just going to have nice, chaste dates? Maybe you can strum your guitar on the front porch swing while Aunt Bea brings us lemonade.\"\n\nOne side of his mouth quirked up. \"You're teasing me.\"\n\n\"I'm not the one who's a tease.\"\n\nHe came back to sit beside her, and put his hands on her shoulders. \"You matter, Kate. That's why this has to be different. Because you matter.\"\n\nShe softened, knowing he meant what he was saying, knowing she was more to him than all of the Lindseys and the Melanies and whoever else was lurking out there having been in Jackson's bed.\n\n\"How long?\" she said.\n\n\"How long what?\"\n\n\"How long do we have to wait in order to make this different than the others? To get to know each other? To ensure that when we do take that step, it's about more than just shallow sex? I mean, even though it would be _fantastic_ shallow sex.\"\n\nThe look on his face suggested that he was having trouble focusing because he was thinking about the fantastic shallow sex.\n\n\"Jackson?\"\n\nShe could see him come back to the present. \"Well, I hadn't really thought about putting a number on it.\"\n\n\"So, think about it now.\" Her pulse was coming back down to normal, but her mind was still foggy with the force of wanting him. She urged herself to get back on her game. \"It'll work better for me if I know what we're dealing with.\"\n\nHe rubbed at his chin with his hand. \"Five dates?\"\n\n\"Five.\"\n\n\"Yeah, why not?\"\n\n\"That's still not exactly old-fashioned courting.\" She grinned.\n\n\"It's about four dates better than I usually do.\"\n\nShe got up from the bench and paced a bit, thinking. \"Does the first one count?\"\n\n\"The first one what?\"\n\n\"The first night we spent time together. The cooking lesson. Does that count as the first date?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"Nah. That wasn't a date. The Sandpiper was the first date.\"\n\n\"And that makes this the second, not the third.\"\n\n\"Right,\" he confirmed.\n\nShe went over to him and pressed her body against his, her hands resting on his hips. She grinned up at him.\n\n\"Think you're going to make it that long, big guy?\"\n\n\"I'll make it,\" he said, his voice almost like a grunt.\n\nShe pressed a quick, light kiss to his lips. \"We'll see.\"\n\n# 16\n\n\"He's a man whore,\" Kate said. She was sitting with Gen, Rose, and Lacy at The Wild Orchid, a sushi place a block off Main Street, gesturing with a piece of California roll pinched between two chopsticks. \"But can I use that to my benefit, have some much-needed fun? Get a little happy stress-relief? No, I cannot. Because he's got some ridiculous—but, yes, sweet—notion that I'm different from all the other women. I'm not! I like sex just as much as the other women!\"\n\n\"And you haven't had it in a long time,\" Lacy said soothingly.\n\n\"So long!\" Kate agreed. \"After Marcus, I was so... so... \" She searched for the word. \"So _stunted_ emotionally that I didn't even want to. I couldn't even go there with anyone. Couldn't even feel _attracted_ most of the time, because... \"\n\n\"We know, honey,\" Rose said, rubbing Kate's upper arm.\n\n\"But Jackson!\" Kate said. \"Oh my God. It's like I'm sixteen again with the raging hormones, and the _urgency_ , and the feeling that the world's just going to freaking _end_ right now, today, if I can't get him into bed. You know?\" She popped the California roll into her mouth.\n\n\"I wish,\" Gen murmured.\n\n\"God, sixteen,\" Lacy said dreamily. \"I remember that. Steven Ford. Prom night.\" She shuddered happily at the memory.\n\n\"Steven Ford?\" Rose piped in. \"Steve from the bank?\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah,\" Lacy said. \"He wasn't always so... paunchy.\"\n\n\"Let's get back to me and my pent-up sexual tension,\" Kate said.\n\n\"Okay, let's,\" Gen agreed. \"So, he's withholding sex for five dates.\"\n\n\"Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that,\" Kate said.\n\nThe restaurant, in the bottom floor of what was once a Victorian house, was half-filled with a mix of locals and tourists. Kitschy décor, including paper lanterns and a giant Buddha, contrasted with the cozy feel of the low ceilings, the chair railings, the fireplace on one wall, the squeaky wood floors and the small doorways.\n\nLacy picked up a piece of raw salmon and considered Kate. \"Okay, let's rephrase it then. He's taking a traditional, respectful approach to the first five dates.\"\n\n\"Better,\" Kate said. \"But, yes. That's the deal. I may have kind of, I don't know\"—she waved her chopsticks around, considering how to say it—\"issued a sort of challenge.\"\n\n\"A challenge?\" Gen looked at her curiously.\n\n\"What kind of challenge?\" Rose asked.\n\nKate shrugged. \"I might have suggested, in a kind of playful way, that he might not make it to Date Five.\"\n\n\"Oh, boy,\" Lacy said. She chewed thoughtfully on the salmon. \"That makes things interesting.\"\n\n\"It does,\" Gen agreed.\n\n\"Sort of sounds like you're planning to ring his bell before the end of the round,\" Rose said. \"So to speak.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know.\" Kate toyed with her pile of white rice, thinking. \"I mean, it's really sweet and kind of flattering that he wants to treat me differently from all his other women. And, jeez, there are a lot of other women.\"\n\n\"Well, we knew that,\" Lacy said.\n\n\"Sure,\" Kate said. \"But knowing that is one thing. Running into them out in the world when I'm with Jackson is another. Did I tell you about Melanie?\" She said the name in a high, mocking voice, the way she might have if the name had been Bitsy or Muffy.\n\n\"Melanie Taylor?\" Rose inquired. \"I heard they used to have a thing.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Kate pointed a chopstick at Rose. \"She propositioned him while I was standing right there!\"\n\nRose gaped at her. \"Really? Could you have misinterpreted something?\"\n\nKate batted her eyelashes and did her Melanie voice. \" 'Oh, Jackson. When you're finished with _her_ , give me a call.' \" She batted the lashes again.\n\nLacy let out a guffaw. \"Well, that took some lady balls.\"\n\n\"No kidding,\" Kate agreed.\n\n\"So, what's your plan to seduce him before Date Five?\" Gen asked, leaning forward eagerly. \"Do tell. I'm having a dry spell. I have to live vicariously.\"\n\nKate slumped a bit, feeling grumpy. \"I don't know. I might have an idea if my father and Angela would get out of my house. It's kind of hard to lure a guy into my bed when my father's already in it.\"\n\n\"Ooh.\" Rose waved her hands in front of her face. \"Now I need brain bleach.\"\n\n\"That is a problem,\" Gen agreed. \"So, what _are_ you going to do about your dad? Has he said when he's leaving?\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Oh, honey,\" Lacy said sympathetically. \"With _your_ dad, that could only mean one thing.\"\n\n\"He lost his condo and he has nowhere to go? I've already thought of that,\" Kate said.\n\n\"All that and you can't even get laid,\" Gen said.\n\n\"We'll see about that,\" Kate said, picking up her glass of wine.\n\nThe whole cold shower thing was overrated, in Jackson's opinion. It didn't work. It didn't stop him from thinking about sex, all the time. Specifically, sex with Kate.\n\nThis was different than what he'd experienced with other women. You met people, you liked the way they looked. You had an itch, you scratched it. Everybody was happy. Well, the women didn't usually stay happy once the fun was over and they had to live with him on a day-to-day basis. But still.\n\nSex, and thinking about sex, was great, but it usually didn't interfere with his daily life. Usually, he could compartmentalize. Sex was one thing, work was another. Even when he'd slept with someone he was working with—not an infrequent occasion—he was able to put all that aside and focus on his job.\n\nBut this was different. Not since his adolescent obsession with Debra Ferguson when he was in twelfth grade had he been this preoccupied with a female.\n\nThe kitchen staff at Neptune probably knew something was up, though they couldn't know what. Jackson was off his game, forgetting things, burning things and then having to redo them. But the most conspicuous red flag was the fact that he wasn't yelling. Jose at the fish station sent out some undercooked salmon, and a server brought it back, and Jackson barely quirked an eyebrow.\n\nHe was distracted, unfocused. And he had sharp knives in his hands.\n\n\"Jackson? You okay, man?\" Esteban, the salad guy, put a hand on Jackson's back.\n\n\"What?\" Jackson looked up at him like he'd barely heard.\n\nYeah, he was fucked.\n\nThe five-date thing had been his idea, and right now it seemed like a stupid one. She'd wanted to go back to his apartment. She'd said _please_ , for Christ's sake. And he'd responded with his wussy _let's do this the right way_ bullshit.\n\nHe'd wanted to show his respect for her.\n\nWell, respect was going to get him burned or cut if he couldn't get his head in the game.\n\n\"I'm good,\" he told Esteban. \"Yeah, I'm good.\"\n\nHe was going to have to fire somebody or throw something pretty soon, just to prove it.\n\nKate decided it was time for a come-to-Jesus talk with her father. He and Angela had been in Kate's house for almost two weeks, with no indication of when they might leave. Kate was tired of sleeping with Gen, tired of not having access to her bedroom, her things. Tired of leaving the house every day with a face full of Mary Kay makeup that was definitely not her style.\n\nAnd she really wanted them out before her fifth date with Jackson. His apartment was probably great and would likely serve their needs just fine. But she wanted options.\n\nShe wanted her damned house back, and she wanted her father and stepmother safely back in Los Angeles where she couldn't suddenly snap and kill them.\n\nWhich was always a possibility.\n\n\"Hey, Dad?\" She approached him as he was sitting at the dining table drinking coffee and reading the morning newspaper. He was the only person she knew who still read a newspaper instead of getting news on the Internet. It was early, and he was still wearing his bathrobe—a navy blue velour number with his monogram on the pocket. Angela was out walking Jazzy—walking apparently was good for Angela's sciatica—which gave Kate a window of opportunity.\n\n\"Hmm?\" He raised his eyebrows to show he was listening, but didn't look up from the paper.\n\n\"Can we talk for a minute?\" Her pulse sped up, and she realized she was nervous about talking to her own father in her own house. Ridiculous.\n\n\"Sure, honey.\"\n\nShe sat down in the chair across from him and began carefully. \"I just thought we should discuss your plans.\"\n\n\"Ah. Well, today I thought Angela and I would visit Hearst Castle. Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day for it. Would you like to join us?\"\n\nShe cleared her throat. \"Thanks, but I have to work. See, I didn't mean your plans for today. I meant your plans for when you thought you might go... you know. Back to Los Angeles.\"\n\nHe looked at her blankly.\n\n\"It's just, this house is really small,\" she said.\n\nHis expression perked up, and he folded the newspaper and set it down. \"It's small, but the location is prime. Did you know your property values have soared over the last couple of years? What with the water issues in Cambria—the de facto moratorium on new construction because of the drought—existing homes near the beach might as well be made of gold. Have you ever thought of selling?\"\n\nThe conversation had taken a turn she hadn't expected.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You just said the house is too small. Why, you could sell, make a huge profit, and buy a much bigger place inland for less than what you make on the sale. You could have a bigger house and a nice savings account.\"\n\nHe looked at her expectantly, as though she might bubble over with excitement at his idea.\n\n\"I don't want to sell my house,\" she said.\n\n\"It's worth more than six hundred thousand on Zillow. For a two-bedroom!\" he said excitedly.\n\n\"Wait a minute. You looked up the value of my house on Zillow?\"\n\nHe avoided her gaze, fussing with the paper and the coffee cup. \"Well, I... \"\n\n\"Why were you looking up the value of my house?\"\n\nHe took a deep breath, entwined his fingers in front of him, and said, \"Kate, since you asked, I think it's time we talked about this house.\"\n\n\"What about it?\"\n\n\"As you know, Angela and I have had some financial problems. A couple of investments that didn't go the way we wanted, the foreclosure.\"\n\n\"Foreclosure?\" This was the first she was hearing of it. \"You never... \"\n\n\"And the thing is,\" he went on as though she'd never spoken, \"I never would have been in such a bind in the first place if it hadn't been for the divorce settlement I had to pay to your mother.\" He spread his hands plaintively. \"It was excessive, the settlement, especially considering we had no minor children.\"\n\n\"So you're blaming Mom for your money troubles?\" Her face was starting to feel hot, and she could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. \"She's not the one who wanted the divorce. You were.\"\n\n\"Of course. Of course. But... \"\n\n\"She'd have stayed forever. She'd have... \"\n\n\"Kate.\" He looked at her with the calm, piercing gaze he used when he wanted to dominate an argument. \"You can't know what went on in our marriage. No child can ever know what happens in private between her parents.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.\n\n\"What I'm saying is,\" he went on, \"ultimately, most of the settlement she received from me went into this.\" He spread his hands to indicate the house surrounding them.\n\n\"My house.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And since the settlement was unfair to begin with... \"\n\n\"Wait. Oh, wait.\" She was starting to get it. It was all starting to come clear. And the picture that was forming was enough to make her blood rush to her head, make her see red. \"You want me to sell the house and give you the money?\"\n\n\"No, no.\" He shook his head. \"Not all of it.\"\n\n\"But some of it.\"\n\nThe little smile on his face was that one that said, _You're being irrational but I'm humoring you._ \"Just enough to get me back on my feet, Kate. It's only fair.\"\n\nFair.\n\n\"What about all of the money I've given you over the years? All of the loans you've never paid back?\" Her voice was rising. \"What about that, Dad? What about the fact that this is _my goddamned house_ , and I'm not going to sell it and give the _goddamned profits_ to _you!_ \" She was standing now, the force of her outrage having propelled her to her feet.\n\nHer father, still calm, shook his head sadly. \"I knew you'd react this way.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Kate demanded. \"Because I'm _sane?_ \"\n\n\"I was afraid you wouldn't be able to see reason,\" he said.\n\n_\"Reason?!\"_\n\n\"You're so emotional about anything that has to do with your mother,\" he said, as though that were a great and terrible character flaw.\n\nWith sudden clarity, Kate could see that this, right here—this man sitting at her table and his way of manipulating her—was the root of her problems with men. When he wanted something unreasonable and she didn't want to give in, he spun the situation to make it look like she was irrational, overly emotional, inherently damaged and stunted. Was it any wonder she'd married a man who had treated her the same way? She knew what was happening—knew exactly what he was doing—but just as she hadn't been able to leave Marcus, she couldn't seem to detach completely from her father, either. She was angry with him, but she was angry with herself, too, for letting herself be treated this way.\n\n\"You know what?\" Kate said, rising from her seat at the table. \"I think your vacation's over. I need you and Angela to pack up and go.\"\n\nHe sighed and did the sad head shake again. \"As I was just explaining to you, we had to give up our condo. We're between addresses.\"\n\n\"If _between addresses_ means you're homeless, that's not my problem. I need you to go. I want my bedroom back. I want my house back.\" Her anger was like a heavy, hot weight on her chest.\n\nHe picked up the newspaper and began reading again. \"As soon as we find another place to stay. Perhaps something here in Cambria, hmm?\" He turned to the sports page and sipped his coffee.\n\nAll that day at work, Kate obsessed over her father and what to do about him. When she'd told him to leave, it was as though he hadn't heard her. That patronizing smirk he'd given her was the same one he'd used on Kate's mother while Kate was growing up. Kate wondered how her mother hadn't suffocated him in his sleep.\n\nWhile her outburst at him had been cathartic, she was no closer to getting him out of her house. How could she get him to leave if he refused to go? If Jackson were in this position, he'd probably have picked him up and physically put him on the street by now. Too bad Kate didn't have that kind of upper body strength.\n\nShe tried to put thoughts of her father aside, and focused on training Fury at the store. The kid was good. He paid attention and learned fast, and he had some creative ideas. Early that morning, she'd sent him to write a two-for-one promotion on the blackboard that stood on the sidewalk outside the store. He'd taken longer than she expected, then beckoned her to come and look. He'd drawn a charming picture of a pigtailed girl in a chair absorbed in a book, and in careful script, he'd written, _Tell us the first line of your favorite book and get two for the price of one!_\n\n\"First line of your favorite book,\" Kate said thoughtfully.\n\n\"Yeah. I thought it would be fun. Get people in the door.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Okay. Let's see how it works.\"\n\nNow, by lunchtime, they'd heard \"Call me Ishmael,\" \"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,\" \"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit,\" and, from a tiny girl, \"The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play.\"\n\nWhen a middle-aged man came in and offered, \"Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road,\" Fury scowled and said, \" _Portrait of the Artist?_ Dude, that is _not_ your favorite book. That's not _anybody's_ favorite book!\" And the two had gotten into a lively discussion about literature for entertainment versus intellectual enlightenment.\n\nHe had some good ideas for Art Walk, too. He'd suggested a contest: He or Kate would read a paragraph from an unnamed book, and the first audience member to name the book would win it. There could be age divisions: adult, young adult, and children.\n\n\"Hmm,\" Kate considered. \"If they know the book well enough to name it, they probably already have it.\"\n\n\"Doesn't matter,\" Fury said. \"Everybody loves to win things.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" she said.\n\nWithin a couple of days she felt comfortable leaving him alone in the store during her lunch breaks. That allowed her to slip out to have a salad with Rose, or to do some quick shopping in the boutiques on Main Street—things she'd been missing since Althea's departure.\n\nSomething else she missed was Jane Austen. Every time Kate looked at Jane Austen's empty bed, she felt a sad little tug in her chest. It wasn't just the fact that she didn't have the cat to keep her company in the store, though that was a factor. She was also bothered—more so than she would have expected—by how the cat's absence reminded her of her own lack of assertiveness. Why had she let Althea take the Swept Away cat? Who did Althea think she was? Was Jane Austen happy at Althea's house? Did she miss the attention she got at the bookstore, the customers stroking her and cooing soft words into her ears?\n\nKate considered getting another cat, but she knew it wouldn't be the same. You couldn't just replace a pet the way you'd replace a broken lamp or a lost set of keys. She was used to Jane Austen, was comforted by her presence and her quirks.\n\n\"You could get a snake,\" Fury suggested when he saw Kate gazing sadly at Jane Austen's empty food and water bowls, now stacked on a shelf in the back room.\n\n\"A snake?\" Kate asked.\n\n\"Sure. I had a boa constrictor when I was in high school. I thought it would impress girls.\"\n\nShe looked at him, amused. \"Did it?\"\n\n\"Not really. Girls are too sympathetic.\"\n\nShe looked at him questioningly.\n\n\"Live feedings,\" he said. \"Mice, usually. Marcy Ellison cried and called me a murderer.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\n\"Might not be the best thing for the store, after all,\" he said.\n\n# 17\n\nSunday nights at Neptune tended to be moderately busy during the summer tourist season. The crowds of out-of-towners in cargo shorts, souvenir T-shirts and flip-flops, staying until Monday to make a long weekend, congregated in groups of four to six outside the restaurant's front doors, making him long for the days—far in the past—when elegant dining meant you put on a coat and tie. Where was the respect for the food, for the ambiance, for the artistry that went into each plate that left the kitchen? But this was a beach town, you had to remember that. And tourists paid the bills.\n\nJackson had been going hard since early in the morning, meeting with his produce supplier, talking to the fish guy about why there was no goddamned fresh crab, tweaking the menu for the coming week, working with the prep crew. Now he was in the middle of it, in the heat and the steam and the bustle of the kitchen during the height of dinner service.\n\nThis was when he came alive, when he truly felt like himself. Something about the creative act of cooking, combined with the rush of doing it for hundreds of people in a night, made him forget everything else. The laser-like focus the job required pushed out the static and the noise of all of his petty problems, and that was therapeutic. Meditative.\n\nEven when he lost his shit over some dumbass mistake made by someone in his crew—a daily occurrence—it was all a part of the whole, a part of the high-tension team effort to feed people not just well, but with excellence. It was part of the rhythm, like ballet. Like performing a piano concerto.\n\nAround seven thirty, when he was right in the middle of his stride, in the middle of the zone, he noticed something odd about a ticket Janie had brought in.\n\n\"Janie, is this right?\" He held the ticket in front of him, peering at her scratchy handwriting.\n\n\"Which part?\"\n\n\"At Table Twelve, one guy, two appetizers?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Yep.\"\n\nCould be nothing, but it raised an alarm bell. When the same single diner at Table Twelve also ordered two entrees, Jackson knew the guy wasn't just especially hungry. The guy was a food critic. He had to be. People rarely dined alone, and when they did, they didn't order enough to feed an army—unless they wanted to sample an array of menu items.\n\nGavin Hughes, the restaurant's owner, noticed about the same time Jackson did. He popped into the kitchen and made a quick stop to talk to Jackson.\n\n\"Table Twelve?\" he said.\n\n\"Yeah, I got it,\" Jackson told him. \"Guy's gotta be a critic.\"\n\n\"I don't recognize him,\" Gavin said.\n\n\"Yeah, well, we better assume he is. Jose!\" Jackson yelled to his sous chef, who was busy searing some bacon-wrapped filets.\n\n\"Yes, chef!\"\n\nJackson went over and told Jose—a short, compact, middle-aged man of boundless energy whom Jackson had come to think of as his right hand—about his suspicions regarding Table Twelve.\n\n\"... And nothing goes out until I see it. Got that? Do not fuck this up.\" He gave Jose a friendly, encouraging smack on the back and went to work on the seafood portion of Table Twelve's meal.\n\n* * *\n\nTwo nights after the Table Twelve triumph—and Jackson knew it was a triumph when Janie reported to him that the guy had eaten with obvious pleasure and gusto—Jackson and Kate had their third date, which was dinner at Jackson's apartment.\n\nKate was surprised he'd invited her there, since it presented a threat to his plan to stay abstinent for five dates. With the chemistry between them, what were the odds that they'd be able to keep their hands off each other in a private, relatively comfortable environment?\n\nKate wore her good underwear and shaved her legs, just in case.\n\nJackson's apartment was on the second floor of a big brick building about a mile down Main Street from the bookstore. The first floor housed Neptune—an arrangement that probably made Jackson even more of a workaholic than he otherwise would have been. The building was a boxy, imposing structure that had once been a bank, with an outside staircase leading to Jackson's door.\n\nShe knocked on his door at six p.m. on a Tuesday—the restaurant's slowest day—wearing a silky red top, a strappy pair of sandals, and jeans that made her ass look great. At least, Gen said they made her ass look great. But who knew? Friends had to compliment your ass before a date—it's what they were there for.\n\nHe opened the door dressed in Levi's and a button-down shirt left untucked, his feet bare, hair combed back from his face. He leaned in for a hello kiss, and he smelled like soap, mouthwash, and essence of Jackson Graham.\n\n\"Come on in.\" He took her hand and brought her inside.\n\nThe bones of the apartment were appealing. Hardwood floors, white walls with crown moldings, plenty of windows letting in natural light, even a fireplace with an elaborately carved surround. But the décor was in the style of workaholic man, with little in the place to indicate that someone considered it home. He had a sofa that had probably come from a thrift store or from a friend's garage, a big-screen TV, some side tables, some lamps, a small dining table and chairs, and not much else. The expanse of floor was unbroken by any sign of a rug, and the walls were bare except for the mounted TV.\n\nThe kitchen, though, was different, as Kate might have expected. It was too small for professional-quality appliances, but she could see at a glance that it was stocked with gleaming stainless steel pots and pans and knives that probably cost more than her car.\n\n\"This is an interesting place,\" she said, looking around. She gestured toward the sparse living area. \"Did you just move in?\"\n\nHe looked confused. \"What? No. I've been here three years. Why?\"\n\nShe raised her eyebrows at him. \"Most people would have bought a rug by now, that's all.\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"I don't spend much time at home.\"\n\n\"I gathered.\"\n\nHe went to the kitchen, poured a glass of chilled white wine, and handed it to her. The taste was crisp, with a hint of apple.\n\n\"Even when I try to spend time at home,\" he went on, \"it doesn't usually work out. Some kind of crisis downstairs, and I'll have a sous chef banging on my door. Which is not going to happen tonight. I told them not to bother me unless the building's on fire. And even then, it better be a fire they can't put out on their own.\" He picked up a chef's knife. \"You want to sit down and make yourself comfortable while I get things ready?\"\n\n\"I can keep you company in the kitchen,\" she said.\n\nHe started slicing vegetables—some zucchini and mushrooms—and she was fascinated by his fluid, practiced motions, his speed, as though the knife were an extension of his hand.\n\n\"Wow,\" she said.\n\n\"Nothing fancy,\" he told her. \"Just a simple stir-fry.\"\n\n\"Still,\" she said.\n\nThey chatted about his day—he'd worked a little at the restaurant in the morning and then went jogging with Daniel—her day, her plans for Art Walk, the catering jobs he had coming up. As he continued to cook, she took her glass of wine and wandered around the apartment. Though he had no homey touches, he did have books—a dark, hefty bookcase full of books. She perused the titles and found her own, _Beyond the Boundaries of Desire._ She wondered at first if he'd gotten it just to impress her, but noticed that the pages looked well-worn and dog-eared.\n\n\"Do you usually bring women here?\" she asked impulsively. She didn't know why she'd said it. She didn't want to put him on the defensive about his history with women. She just wanted to know.\n\n\"Never,\" he said.\n\nHer eyebrows shot up. \"Really? Never?\"\n\n\"Never.\" He carried two steaming plates of stir-fry to the table, which had been set before her arrival. \"You're the first.\"\n\n\"I'm the _first?_ \" It didn't seem credible, considering how prolific he was with women, but on the other hand, a glance around said it was true. This wasn't a place he'd created to impress his dates. This was just where he slept, where he kept his things.\n\nThe stir-fry was delicious—she would have expected no less—and she made happy noises as she savored the first bite. \"Oh, God,\" she said. \"This is fabulous. What's that flavor?\"\n\n\"It's probably the fresh ginger.\"\n\n\"Oh, wow. Yeah. And I like how it's got a little kick, but not too much.\"\n\n\"It's not hard. I can teach you to make it.\"\n\nShe grinned. \"That would be good, since our last cooking lesson was cut short.\"\n\n\"Well... \" He fidgeted.\n\nShe changed the subject to let him off the hook. \"So, you said you're from the Bay Area. San Francisco?\"\n\nHe took a sip of his wine and shook his head. \"No. Oakland.\"\n\n\"How was that?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"My dad was a dock worker at the port, my mom was a nurse at the children's hospital. They worked hard, but never got much to show for it. Public schools in Oakland aren't the best, so I learned to keep my head down, try not to be noticed.\"\n\n\"Do they still live there?\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Yeah, same house. My dad's retired—you can't do that kind of work forever—but my mom's still nursing. A city like that, she sees a lot of rough things at the hospital. Shootings, drug overdoses, domestic violence. And this is all kids.\" He shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. \"She used to say, 'Jackson, you get your education and get out of here as soon as you can.' And that's what I did. I offered to bring them down here, but they said no. Home is home, I guess.\"\n\n\"I guess it is.\" She thought about mothers and fathers, and what it would be like to still have both of hers in a place she could think of as home. \"This is my home now,\" she said. \"Though it took a while for anywhere to seem like home after I lost my mom. She was it. She was home. Now I have to be that for myself.\"\n\n\"I hear people talk about her sometimes,\" he said thoughtfully. \"Your mom, I mean. Here in Cambria. All good things. People miss her.\"\n\nThe thought of that collective memory, that joining together of people who knew her, made Kate feel warm inside. She smiled. \"That's good to know.\"\n\n\"Speaking of parents... \" He asked her what was going on with her father, and she told him the short version.\n\n\"He needs money. Again. Apparently, his condo has been foreclosed, and he and Angela have nowhere to live. So... \" She took a deep breath. \"He wants me to sell my house and give him the money—not all of it, he says, oh so generously—but enough to get him 'back on his feet.' Says I owe it to him because the divorce settlement was unfair.\"\n\nHe stared at her. \"Jesus.\"\n\n\"Even _he_ would be pissed with my father right now,\" Kate said.\n\nJackson set down his fork. \"Please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me that you're not thinking of doing it.\"\n\n\"Oh, God no. That house... it's more than a house. It means a lot to me. It's... \"\n\n\"It's a connection to your mother,\" he supplied.\n\n\"Yes. It is. There's no way I'm selling it, not for him, not for anyone. I told him that. But when I talk, he doesn't seem to hear me. I told him he needed to leave, and he said, 'As soon as we find somewhere else to stay.' Which, considering how hard he's looking, could be never.\"\n\n\"You need to make him leave.\"\n\n\"But how... \"\n\n\"Kate.\"\n\nShe looked at him.\n\n\"You need to make him leave,\" he said.\n\n\"He's my dad,\" she said. She sighed, and looked down into her wine glass. \"I wish I knew how to be more assertive with people. I don't like being a doormat. I guess somewhere down deep I think that if I act the right way with him, he'll really see me—he'll appreciate me for who I am. But it never happens.\" She looked at Jackson. \"How do you do it?\"\n\n\"Do what?\"\n\n\"Well...\" She shifted in her chair, thinking of how to say it. \"You never take any crap off of anyone. You don't seem to care what anybody thinks. If someone needs to have their ass handed to them, you just...\" She gestured with her hand. \"You just do it.\"\n\nHe got up, went to the kitchen, and retrieved the bottle of wine they'd started. He poured more for both of them, sat down, and folded his arms on top of the table. \"Kate. I never told you how I ended up going to culinary school.\"\n\n\"No, you didn't,\" she said, puzzled by the abrupt change of topic.\n\n\"Well. As I mentioned, my parents were struggling financially, and as you might be aware, culinary school—especially one in San Francisco—costs an absurd amount of money.\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\nHe took a deep breath before going on. \"I paid for it with the settlement from a very bad car accident I was in.\"\n\n\"Jackson... \" She could see that the story was hard for him to tell, that this was going to be a story that mattered. She reached out a hand toward him, and he took it in his.\n\n\"I was in the car with a guy I knew from high school. Not a close friend, just a guy I hung out with. You know how it is. Anyway, we'd both been drinking. Not a huge amount, we weren't shitfaced. But we probably shouldn't have been in the car.\"\n\nHe kept his eyes on the table, avoiding her gaze, as he continued.\n\n\"He was driving. We were on a two-lane road, late. Some fog on the ground, so it was hard to see. The guy in the other lane swerved into ours, hit us head-on, with the main impact on the driver's side of the car.\" He rubbed the back of her hand gently with his thumb as he continued. \"I had my seatbelt on, he didn't.\"\n\n\"Oh, Jackson.\" She knew what was going to come next, and she braced herself for it.\n\n\"My friend—a guy named Logan Walsh—was killed on impact. I was in the hospital for a while, a concussion, some broken bones and whatnot.\"\n\nHe paused, collecting his thoughts, before he finished.\n\n\"Even though the accident wasn't Logan's fault, I could never help wondering what would have happened if he'd been completely sober. Would he have seen the guy coming? Would he have been able to swerve out of the way in time?\" He shook his head. \"I will never—and I mean ever—forget the way his mother screamed when she got to the hospital and they told her he was gone. And I _knew_ he shouldn't have been driving. I _knew_ it. But I was too big of a pussy to say anything. Didn't want him to be mad at me.\" He looked disgusted with himself.\n\n\"How awful,\" Kate said. But she knew there really wasn't anything to say.\n\n\"Yeah. Anyway. My point is, that was about the time I decided that I was never going to hold back what I thought about things again. People think I'm an asshole... \"\n\nShe started to protest, and he gave her a wry grin.\n\n\"Don't argue,\" he said. \"They do. But that's okay. That's fine. If that's how it's got to be, that's how it's got to be. Because I'm never holding my tongue again about anything that matters.\" He laughed lightly. \"Though, maybe I've got to learn to hold it more often about stuff that doesn't matter.\"\n\nShe considered that. \"You said you never hold back what you think. But you also said you've had a thing for me for a while now. You kept that secret pretty well.\" She smiled at him playfully.\n\n\"Yeah, well... \"\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me sooner how you felt?\" She was curious, but she also was grasping for some clue that would tell her what this all meant, where they were going, whether she would be just another in his long line of not conquests, precisely—she could see he wasn't like that—but perhaps serial efforts to find connection and meaning.\n\n\"I didn't think I had a chance with you,\" he said.\n\nShe raised her eyebrows, surprised. \"Why not?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"You're very together. You're beautiful. You're a serious person. I'm... Well. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing.\"\n\nShe stood up from the table and reached out a hand to him. He took it, stood up, and enfolded her in his arms.\n\n\"Seems to me like you're doing okay,\" she said.\n\n\"I'm working on it.\"\n\n# 18\n\nGen was starting to lose patience with sharing her bed. She was a doll about it, of course—Kate would have expected no less from her best friend—but there was a certain crankiness in the mornings, a certain resigned acceptance when Kate came home at night, that told Kate she'd better figure something else out soon.\n\nIt didn't help that Kate had become a restless sleeper. Since Jackson. Since she'd regularly begun going to bed at night having been with him, or having spoken to him on the phone, without the benefit of sweet, sleep-inducing sex. He was sticking to his five-date plan, despite Kate's efforts to persuade him otherwise on his couch on Date Three. His self-control was maddening. And hers was at its breaking point.\n\nThe sexual frustration was becoming harder and harder to live with, and it usually resulted in Kate thrashing around at night, trying to sleep, but failing.\n\nThe night after the third date, Gen flipped the light on at two a.m., bleary-eyed and irritated. \"Oh, for God's sake,\" she said. \"Just screw the man already!\"\n\n\"I want to,\" Kate said, groaning and pulling a pillow over her face. \"He won't do it! Shit, I'm like a seventeen-year-old boy trying to persuade his virgin girlfriend to put out. 'You'd do it for me if you loved me.' Ugh!\"\n\n\"I thought it was cute at first,\" Gen said. \"But the whole not-sleeping thing? Less cute.\"\n\n\"I know. I'm sorry. This whole thing with my dad... You're putting up with a lot. Have I told you what a great friend you are?\"\n\n\"You have. But tell me again.\"\n\nKate sat up and looked seriously at Gen. \"You are. You really are. You're a great friend. And I'll figure something out soon. I'll fix all of this. I promise.\"\n\nGen flopped back onto her pillows. \"Soon, okay? I'm getting unsightly circles under my eyes.\"\n\n\"You are not.\"\n\n\"But you are.\"\n\nKate sat up straight, alarmed. \"Am I?\" She got up and went to the bathroom, turned on the light, and peered into the mirror. \"Oh, God. I am.\"\n\n\"I know what'll cure that.\"\n\n\"What?\" Kate poked her head out of the bathroom to listen.\n\n\"Sex. And then sleep.\"\n\nIn the final run-up to Art Walk, both Kate and Jackson were busy with preparations—her for the event at the store, him with catering jobs for the big night—and so they were not able to dispense with Date Four and get down to business as quickly as they might have liked. She was swamped with work during the day, he couldn't get away from the restaurant in the evenings.\n\nThey talked on the phone, texted, and emailed a lot, but it wasn't getting the job done for either of them.\n\n\"We have to do Date Four, so we can do Date Five! The all-important Date Five!\" Kate told Jackson on her cell phone during a lull at the store. \"Do not make me wait any longer than I have to for Date Five, Jackson. I might have to kill you.\"\n\nHe let out a low, seductive laugh that made the blood rush straight to the body parts she was trying to forget. \"Who said Date Five was the all-important one? I thought we'd agreed to hold out until _after_ Date Five. Which means the all-important stuff will happen on Date Six.\"\n\n\"Six?\" Kate sputtered. \"But that's... I... You...\"\n\nHe laughed at her again, his voice a deep purr. \"I'm joking,\" he said. \"It's Date Five. It's definitely Date Five.\"\n\n\"If I haven't already evaporated into a puff of frustration and broken dreams,\" she said.\n\nHis voice was serious now. \"Jesus. It's so sexy that you want this as much as I do. There's something to be said for waiting like this.\"\n\n\"Not much,\" she said. \"Gen hasn't slept in a week.\"\n\n\"Gen?\"\n\n\"I'll explain another time,\" she said. \"The point is, we've got to get this show rolling. When are we having goddamned Date Four?\"\n\n\" 'Goddamned Date Four,' \" he echoed. \"That has a nice ring to it.\"\n\n\"When?\" she demanded.\n\n\"Hmm. I'm working every night until Art Walk. But I've got a window of time Tuesday afternoon. Can you get away?\"\n\n\"I work Tuesday afternoon.\"\n\n\"How about the new guy at the store? Can he handle it for a couple of hours? We could... I don't know. Drive down to Morro Bay and see an early movie.\"\n\n\"That works.\"\n\n\"Anything you want to see?\" he asked.\n\n\"Whatever will get us to Date Five.\"\n\n\"Amen.\"\n\nIn the last days before Art Walk, Kate worked with Fury to prepare for the store's event. They ordered folding chairs for their guests. They couldn't get catering from Neptune, which was all booked up, so they arranged for a place down in Morro Bay to bring a selection of canapes and beverages. They double-checked with Cassidy McLean to make sure she was still free and that she hadn't forgotten. Kate discussed with Cassidy what she would talk about during her presentation—and did some research on ring-tailed lemurs to make sure she wasn't inviting some crazed wild beast into her store that would terrorize the guests. Once she was satisfied that the lemur would do little more than climb around on Cassidy and look cute, she checked on whether she would need to provide anything for the animal. Cassidy assured her she'd bring everything Samantha needed.\n\nThat left advertising and cleaning the store. She and Fury put out flyers about Cassidy's appearance, put notices about the event on the store's website, and hung a sign in the front window. The success of the event would not rely on advertising, though. The nature of Art Walk was that everyone—locals and tourists—would be out on Main Street, walking from venue to venue and discovering things as they went. People who didn't know about the Swept Away event would stumble upon it. Cassidy had agreed to give her presentation twice that evening to accommodate those who trickled in at different times.\n\nBy Tuesday, Kate felt that she had enough of a handle on things to turn the store over to Fury to free her up for Date Four.\n\nThat didn't stop her from fussing around with him, though.\n\n\"Are you sure it's okay for me to go?\" she asked, already gathering up her purse and her other belongings.\n\n\"Sure. It's no problem. Go.\" He bobbed his head in the affirmative.\n\n\"I know you've taken over during my lunch breaks, but this will be longer.\"\n\n\"Right. Movies usually last longer than lunch.\"\n\n\"Is that sarcasm?\" She raised an eyebrow at him.\n\n\"Dude. Go. Have your date. I'm fine.\"\n\n\"When I go on lunch breaks, I'm right here in town. If you need anything, you can call and I can come back. This time... \"\n\n\"You'll be farther away.\"\n\n\"Right!\"\n\n\"I'm not gonna burn down the store or anything. I'm not gonna invite my friends in here to party.\" He rolled his eyes at her.\n\n\"I hadn't thought about that last scenario. It concerns me that you did.\"\n\nHe placed his hands on her back and gently pushed her toward the door. \"You're gonna be late if you don't get going.\"\n\n\"But... \"\n\n\"You're gonna miss the previews. It sucks when you miss the previews.\"\n\nHe finally got her out the door, and she met Jackson at Neptune for the drive down to Morro Bay. She let the hostess know she was there, and in a few minutes, Jackson came out of the kitchen, removing his chef's coat and smiling when he saw her.\n\nThe sight of him, the smile, the way the look in his eyes warmed for her, made something small and gentle hum inside her belly. He took her hand, and she felt a sense of rightness, of belonging.\n\n\"Should we go?\" he said.\n\n\"Absolutely.\" She turned her face toward him, and he kissed her. He tasted like comfort and promise. She'd been wrong about Date Four: It wasn't something to be dispensed with. A few hours of Jackson in the middle of her day was a gift worth savoring.\n\nTraffic was light, and the drive down to Morro Bay took about half an hour. Everyone in Cambria was so familiar with the drive they could have done it blindfolded. While part of Cambria's charm was that it lacked chain restaurants, drive-throughs, and many of the other establishments that stole a town's character and made it look just like everywhere else, there were times when you just wanted to shop at a well-equipped grocery store or get a Starbucks Frappuccino. Or see a movie.\n\nThe day was bright and clear, and Jackson seemed to be in a good mood. He hummed whatever tune was playing in his head, tapping out the beat on the steering wheel as he drove.\n\n\"You seem happy,\" Kate told him.\n\n\"I'm with you,\" he said simply. His response made her grin like an idiot.\n\nThe only movie theater in town was a one-screen place that had been open since 1942. It had been updated in the interim, no doubt, but it retained a feeling of nostalgia, of grandeur, and it evoked the spirit of the thousands of helpings of sticky fake butter and spilled sodas that had gone before. Because there was only one screen, Kate and Jackson had no options regarding what they would watch. The sole offering was an action-adventure flick that, they learned with dismay, had garnered only a ten percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes; the name of the movie was adorned on the website with an ugly green splat.\n\n\"Well, that doesn't look promising,\" Jackson said. \"We could do something else.\"\n\n\"I think we should see it,\" Kate said.\n\nHe looked at her doubtfully. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Sure. It'll be fun. We can heckle. Have you ever seen _Mystery Science Theater 3000?_ \"\n\n\"Sure,\" he said. \"But I'm surprised you have.\"\n\nShe punched him playfully on the shoulder. \"Come on. Let's get our tickets.\"\n\nEven the woman manning the box office seemed surprised that anyone wanted to see the film. They got their tickets and went inside, inhaling the smell of stale popcorn and oily hair.\n\n\"This place is great. I love this place,\" Kate said.\n\n\"Snacks?\" Jackson said.\n\n\"Absolutely,\" Kate replied with enthusiasm.\n\n\"Popcorn?\" he said.\n\nThey both peered uncertainly into the bin containing artificially yellow popcorn that might have been there since the night before, or might have been there through the eons, predating the opening of the theater and even the dawn of motion pictures themselves.\n\n\"Better stick with the candy,\" Kate said.\n\nThey bought boxes of candy and giant bathtub-sized vessels of soda from a pimpled kid who looked like he'd just smoked a joint in the men's room. Then they hauled their purchases into the theater and looked around for a seat.\n\n\"Where's everybody else?\" Kate said.\n\n\"Huh. I guess we're it,\" Jackson said.\n\nThe theater was vast, the kind that had filled up completely only for the blockbuster movies of their youth, like Titanic and Jurassic Park. They maneuvered halfway down the aisle and found two center seats.\n\n\"Do you suppose anybody else is going to come?\" Jackson asked.\n\n\"I hope not,\" Kate said, snuggling down into her seat. \"This is kind of great.\" She opened her box of candy and popped some into her mouth. \"God, Jujubes. I haven't had these since I was twelve. These are the flavor of youth and joy, right here.\" She washed the candy down with a giant slurp of Coke.\n\nWhen she looked up at him, he was gazing at her with a lopsided smile on his face.\n\n\"What?\" she said.\n\nHe shrugged. \"I just like the uncomplicated happiness you're getting from this. Most women would be pissed if I brought them here.\"\n\nShe nudged him with an elbow. \"I'm not most women.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm getting that,\" he said.\n\nWhen it was time for the movie to start, the theater went dark and the sound erupted with a thunderous boom. Had they made movies louder since Kate was young, or did she just remember it that way? She was certain her ears would be ringing when she left here in two hours.\n\nBecause they were alone in the theater, they had the luxury of heckling the movie, just as Kate had suggested, without annoying anyone. Jackson turned out to be funnier than she'd expected, and some of his observations about the acting and the cheesy plot developments had her laughing until her stomach ached. When he made a bad pun, she pelted him with a Jujube. This led to him lobbing a Milk Dud back at her. And that led to her looking at him in the dim light from the screen with amusement and pleasure in her eyes.\n\nHe leaned over and kissed her. He tasted like chocolate and caramel.\n\nAfter the movie, they emerged, squinting, into the sunlight. They walked across the street to a place that sold hamburgers, hot dogs, and french fries through an ancient-looking window surrounded by peeling paint. They bought chili dogs and fries and carried them to a picnic table sheltered by a big umbrella.\n\nKate dug into her food with gusto. Jackson did, too, to her surprise. She'd have thought he was too much of a food snob to enjoy a good chili dog.\n\n\"I hadn't pegged you for a chili dog kind of guy,\" Kate observed.\n\n\"Why? Just because I'm a chef?\" He shook his head. \"There's a certain perfection to a chili dog, especially one that oozes chili all over your fingers when you eat it. I like a Big Mac on occasion, too.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" she said. \"Who'd have thought?\"\n\nThey ate in happy silence, and they wiped the chili off of their hands and faces with flimsy paper napkins. Then they sat under the umbrella, enjoying the light breeze and the smell of the ocean.\n\n\"So,\" he said.\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So, I want to ask you about this guy Marcus... \"\n\n\"My husband. Ex-husband.\"\n\n\"... But I don't know if that's a sensitive topic. I want to know, but I don't want to ruin a really good date.\"\n\nKate shrugged. \"It's okay. I don't mind talking about him. I would have minded as recently as six months ago. It was hard for a long time. But now... \" She searched for words. \"Now, none of it seems to matter that much anymore. I've moved on.\"\n\nHe nodded. He wadded up their used napkins and wrappers and tossed them into a nearby trash can.\n\n\"You said you met him in grad school,\" he prompted.\n\n\"Right. I met him at a party the English department was hosting. He was there with a girl from a seminar I was taking. He was drunk. That should have been my first clue that he wasn't right for me.\" She shook her head at the memory.\n\nHe leaned toward her, resting his forearms on the picnic table. \"What was the attraction?\"\n\n\"He was really charming at first. Attractive. Brilliant. He had this thing, this way of turning his attention on someone and making them feel like the most important person in the world. It's only later that you see that _he's_ the most important person in his world.\"\n\n\"Were you ever happy together?\" he asked. \"Before things started to go wrong?\"\n\nShe sighed and considered the question. A gentle breeze blew through her hair. Nearby, seagulls picked at a few discarded french fries.\n\n\"I thought we were happy,\" she said. \"At first. But what I thought was happiness was just me having not caught on to him. He was cheating from the beginning. Before the wedding, even. I had no idea. And then later, when I did have an idea, he always made it about me. About how I was too insecure to trust anyone. How I was inventing scenarios in my mind to conform with the twisted view I had of men. How he could never win with me, because I was damaged and wasn't capable of a healthy relationship.\"\n\nShe saw the muscles in his jaw flex with what might have been anger. \"And you believed him?\"\n\n\"I didn't know what to believe. When your two choices are to believe that you're emotionally stunted, or to believe that your husband is cheating on you with every woman he can get his hands on and that he never loved you, the first option looks pretty attractive.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"I can see that.\"\n\n\"What about you?\" she said.\n\n\"Me?\"\n\n\"Have you had any serious relationships?\"\n\nHe laughed lightly. \"Not since Debra Ferguson in twelfth grade.\"\n\n\"Ooh. Tell me about Debra Ferguson.\"\n\n\"She was a cheerleader. With a ponytail. God, I loved her ponytail.\"\n\nShe grinned. \"The tiny skirts and the pompoms probably didn't hurt.\"\n\n\"No.\" He smiled wistfully. \"I lost my virginity to her in the back of my dad's 1986 Buick LeSabre.\"\n\n\"Let me guess,\" Kate said. \"You went your separate ways after graduation.\"\n\n\"No.\" He raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. \"No, no. We stayed together for a couple years after graduation. We were engaged for a while.\"\n\nThis was taking a turn Kate hadn't anticipated. \"Engaged?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" He nodded. \"I had a job busing tables and she worked as a checker at a grocery store. We were gonna get an apartment, have a cheap wedding because it was all we could afford. Then we'd have some kids, the whole bit.\"\n\nShe leaned toward him. \"So, what happened?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"The accident happened.\"\n\n\"The car accident.\"\n\n\"Yeah. I went through... some things after that. I was in the hospital for a while, and then I had some problems with depression. It was too much for her. She broke it off.\"\n\nKate reached out and put a hand on his arm. \"That's awful.\"\n\n\"Ah, I don't know. It was for the best. Getting married right out of high school... it was never gonna work out. Better to know that up front.\"\n\n\"She doesn't sound like a very good person,\" Kate said.\n\nHe shook his head. \"It wasn't her fault. She was a kid. We both were.\"\n\nBefore heading back to his truck, they walked toward the water and sat on the beach, wiggling their bare toes in the wet sand.\n\n\"I probably should get back to the shop and relieve Fury,\" Kate said. Overhead, seagulls soared and dipped and soared again. Down the beach, some kids were making a sandcastle with a red plastic shovel and a pail.\n\n\"You want to go?\" he said.\n\n\"No. I want to stay here with you.\" She leaned over and rested her head against his shoulder. He put an arm around her, and they sat that way for a long time.\n\nFinally, when they knew they couldn't delay it any longer, they put their shoes back on their sandy feet and made the walk to where he had parked. They drove back to Cambria with her hand in his.\n\n# 19\n\nThe fact that Date Four was over—and the ever-critical Date Five was looming—ratcheted up Kate's tension even further. She asked Jackson if there was any way they could find some time for a date before Art Walk—any time at all—and he gave her that seductive laugh and urged her to be patient. He didn't want to rush Date Five. It couldn't be a lunch in the middle of their work day, it couldn't be a drink after Jackson got out of the restaurant in the late hours. No, Date Five had to be done right. He had plans, he said. Important Date Five plans, for Monday.\n\nKnowing that Jackson was the one saying no to sex, and Kate was the one urging him to recklessly surrender to passion, was strange and somehow empowering. A lifetime of being female had taught Kate that the traditional roles were for the male to pressure and the female to resist. It was how things had worked all of her teenage and then adult life. Forces ranging from her upbringing to the media said the man was supposed to want it; the woman was supposed to use sex only for procreation and to tip the scales of power in the relationship. She wasn't supposed to have normal, adult desires, and she certainly wasn't supposed to assert those desires.\n\nThe way those desires were raging inside her, and having made no secret of that to Jackson, felt freeing. She didn't need candles and rose petals and soft music, but apparently _he_ did, and that thought made her smile.\n\nShe thought about that, and about the various carnal delights Date Five would have to offer, on Friday night after work as she, Gen, Rose, and Lacy discussed their plans for Art Walk the next day.\n\nThey were sitting around the dining table in the cottage Rose rented in a woodsy neighborhood east of Highway 1. The tiny house, which had been standing for more than a hundred years, was charmingly rustic—though Rose would have used the word \"dilapidated.\" The knotty pine paneling and freestanding cast iron fireplace made it feel like they were at camp.\n\n\"A lemur?\" Lacy asked. They were sharing a bottle of white wine and a big bowl of popcorn, all of them dressed in their \"girls' night in\" ensembles of T-shirts and sweatpants.\n\n\"A ring-tailed lemur,\" Kate confirmed. \"Did you know they spread this lemur stink all over everything to mark territory and establish dominance? But humans can't detect the smell. Thankfully. Otherwise, that might have been a deal-breaker.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" Gen said. \"It's going to be just like when Johnny Carson had that zoo lady on his show.\"\n\n\"Joan Embery,\" Rose supplied.\n\n\"Right.\" Gen pointed a finger at her. \"That's her.\"\n\n\"The little bugger's going to poop on my floor,\" Kate said. \"I just know it.\" She asked Gen, \"What about you?\"\n\n\"I'm not going to poop on your floor,\" Gen said. \"Though, you should probably keep an eye on the tourists.\"\n\n\"Very funny.\"\n\nGen had an art demonstration at the gallery, with a wine and cheese reception. Rose's wine tasting shop would be presenting a lecture on how to do proper wine and food pairings, with a wine and hors d'oeuvre tasting. Jitters—which expected to do a brisk business with all of the foot traffic—would have live music. An acoustic guitarist, as you'd expect from any self-respecting coffee house.\n\n\"I hate Art Walk,\" Kate declared. \"It's always so much work, and this year it's delaying my gratification with Jackson. I don't want my gratification delayed. I want my gratification now.\"\n\n\"You poor thing,\" Gen said soothingly.\n\nRose raised her eyebrows, one pierced with a stainless steel barbell. \"It's been a while, hasn't it? Since you've been... you know... gratified.\"\n\n\"So long,\" Kate confirmed. \"So, so long.\"\n\n\"Hey. You know what would be gratifying?\" Gen asked.\n\n\"What?\" Kate said.\n\n\"Kicking your father and Angela out of your house.\"\n\nKate groaned. \"I know. I need to. I just have to figure out how.\"\n\n\"I'll do it,\" Rose offered. \"Just say the word, and I'll have their asses out on the curb before you can say Daddy Dearest.\"\n\n\"I'll do it,\" Kate said again. \"I will. I just... I need time.\"\n\nGen groaned.\n\n\"Oh, honey,\" Kate said. \"I'm so sorry about invading your personal space. But at least after Monday I should be sleeping a lot better.\"\n\nGen raised her wineglass in a mock toast. \"Here's hoping.\"\n\nAs Kate was leaving her house on Saturday to go to work—it would be a long day, beginning midmorning and ending well after midnight—a grey Toyota Corolla slowed down on its way past her street and paused in front of her house. The window rolled down, and a man in his midfifties poked a smartphone out the driver's side window and started taking pictures.\n\n_Tourists. God only knows why they do what they do._\n\nThe man with the phone spotted Kate emerging from Gen's downstairs apartment and called out to her.\n\n\"Do you live here?\" he said.\n\n\"I do. How can I help you?\" She was slightly annoyed and in a hurry, but the courtesy that came with running a business took over.\n\n\"Quite a location,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes, I love it here.\"\n\n\"What are the property taxes like?\"\n\nShe approached the car, which had Oregon plates. \"Oh, are you thinking of relocating?\"\n\n\"Maybe, if I can get the right deal.\" He winked at her.\n\n\"Well, it's a lovely town,\" Kate offered.\n\n\"It sure is.\" He pointed at the house. \"You got central heating in there?\"\n\n\"Um... no.\"\n\n\"Ah. Hmm.\"\n\n\"Okay, well,\" Kate said, trying to end the conversation. \"I have to get to work. Have a good day!\" As she walked to her car, she saw the man park the car, get out, and stand with his hands on his hips, looking at her house.\n\nA little creeped out, Kate waited in her car until the guy drove away. If he'd intended to burglarize her place, surely he'd have been more stealthy about it. And it certainly wasn't unusual for visitors to Cambria to scope out the local real estate, asking questions and taking pictures.\n\nStill, she had a bad feeling, and somehow, she connected it with her father.\n\nSaturday evening brought perfect weather for the event. Cool but not cold, clear skies, light breeze off the ocean with the enticing scent of salt water.\n\nKate arranged the canapes, the napkins, and the plastic drink cups; Fury straightened the rows of folding chairs; and Cassidy McLean, who had arrived right on time toting Samantha in a plastic cat carrier, was arranging a stack of her books on a table for signing.\n\nKate checked her watch: six thirty p.m.\n\n\"Okay,\" she told Fury. \"Open the doors!\"\n\nHe propped open the front door of the shop and put out the sandwich board announcing that Cassidy McLean would be speaking at seven thirty and again at nine, with book signings after each presentation. In smaller print, the sign advertised refreshments, a special sales promotion, and Fury's \"name the book and win it\" contest.\n\nKate took a deep breath and girded her loins for the evening to come.\n\nIt looked like they were going to get pretty good crowds. As soon as the doors opened, people starting coming in and milling around, browsing the books, nibbling on the little cheese puffs and pigs in blankets. Kate and Fury greeted everyone, made small talk, made sure everyone knew Cassidy would be speaking soon. Cassidy did her part as well, chatting with the locals and tourists about her experience in the movies and her life at the wild animal refuge. Kate noted with approval that Cassidy was subtle about pushing her book, letting her own personality sell it rather than shoving it in people's faces. The woman was a pro.\n\nThings were going smoothly enough that, with plenty of time left before Cassidy's talk, Kate left Fury in charge for a bit and went out onto Main Street to see what everyone else was doing for their events.\n\nThe Porter Gallery was holding a live drawing demonstration, with an artist sketching a model who was draped gracefully in billowy white cloth, her bare shoulders and legs emerging from beneath the folds of fabric. Gen had briefly considered using a nude model—because, after all, the idea was to create a stir and draw a crowd—but rejected the idea when Kate had pointed out how many children people brought with them for Art Walk.\n\nDe-Vine seemed to have a good crowd for the talk on wine and food pairings. Kate ducked in just long enough for a couple of exquisitely presented bite-sized morsels and a few sips of a fragrant, rich cabernet sauvignon.\n\nShe made small talk with people she encountered along the way: her regular customers, her neighbors, people she knew from the gas station and the library and the clothing boutiques. Main Street had a festive, carnival atmosphere that almost made her wish she were a tourist instead of a business owner with a job to do.\n\nOn her way back toward the shop, she passed a street performer playing the saxophone, a food cart offering fresh-made tacos, and a guy selling helium balloons that lit up from the inside.\n\nShe checked the time on her cell phone and decided she just had time to drop in on Lacy before heading back to Swept Away.\n\nThe coffee house was about three-quarters full, with a line at the counter and most of the tables occupied. The guitarist was already performing—he was a scraggly looking guy singing a mournful version of James Taylor's \"You've Got a Friend.\"\n\nKate snagged Lacy as the other woman was taking a couple of lattes to a couple sitting at a round table by the door. After Lacy delivered the drinks, Kate asked, \"How's it going?\"\n\n\"Good.\" Lacy nodded. \"People seem to like Bob.\"\n\n\"Bob?\"\n\n\"The singer.\" She gestured. \"Though he's a little heavy on the James Taylor. We've already heard 'Fire and Rain' and 'Sweet Baby James,' and it's not even seven thirty.\"\n\nPeople did seem to be enjoying the music; they were looking attentively at the makeshift stage, interested, enjoying their coffees.\n\n\"How about you?\" Lacy asked. \"How's it coming over there?\"\n\n\"Okay, I guess. Cassidy McLean seems great. But I'm nervous.\"\n\nLacy rubbed Kate's upper arm. \"Hang in there. It's just one night!\"\n\n\"Right.\" She nodded. \"Right.\"\n\nKate looked around and saw people she knew, and people she didn't know. Peering into the dim light of the coffee house, she spotted a familiar face she hadn't expected to see.\n\n\"Is that Zach?\" she whispered to Lacy, just loud enough to be heard over the guitarist.\n\n\"Uh huh,\" Lacy confirmed. \"Caramel macchiato, no whip.\"\n\n\"Is that his wife?\" Kate was curious. The woman sitting with Zach was lovely, all silky black hair and smooth, creamy skin. It was hard to tell in the dim lighting, but she didn't look happy.\n\n\"I guess so,\" Lacy said. \"I didn't ask.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Kate caught a glance at her watch. \"Shit! Gotta go. Good luck!\"\n\nShe dashed out the door and back to Swept Away, where the crowd was starting to find seats for Cassidy's talk. Her father and Angela were sitting third row center. Jazzy was poking his fuzzy little head out of Angela's purse. At least that meant he wasn't home eating Kate's favorite jeans.\n\n\"Dad,\" she said. \"Angela. You came.\"\n\n\"Of course we came,\" her father said, puffing up a bit. \"I wouldn't miss my daughter's big night!\"\n\n\"We do this every year,\" she said. \"This is the first time you've come.\"\n\n\"Ah. Well... \"\n\n\"You know, they've got a terrific guitarist next door. Maybe you should... \"\n\nHer less-than-subtle effort to get him out the door was interrupted as Cassidy nodded to Kate that she was ready to begin.\n\nKate went to the front of the room, where she'd set up a lectern. \"If everyone could please take their seats!\" She waited while people shuffled around each other and settled into the folding chairs, holding little napkins full of food in their laps.\n\nOnce everyone had settled, she launched into her welcome speech: \"I'd like to thank you all for coming out tonight. Welcome to Swept Away.\" There was a smattering of applause. She gave a brief bio of Cassidy McLean, which included the highlights of her film career and the history of the animal refuge she'd opened with her husband. Kate finished up with a hearty endorsement of _Wild Woman_ , Cassidy's book. \"Let's all give a friendly Swept Away welcome to Cassidy McLean,\" she said, leading a round of applause and stepping to the side.\n\nCassidy took the lectern, opened a copy of _Wild Woman_ , and started to read a passage she and Kate had picked out beforehand. The plan was that after the reading, she would bring out Samantha and talk about ring-tailed lemurs, as well as the many other species she housed on her property.\n\nWhile Cassidy talked, Kate surveyed the refreshment table, which was starting to look a little bare. \"Could you go into the back and get some more canapes?\" she asked Fury. \"The iced tea looks a little low, too.\"\n\n\"I'm on it,\" he told her, disappearing into the back room.\n\nShe took a look at the crowd. About thirty people had gathered for the event, which was, frankly, a better turnout than she'd expected based on previous years. She noticed that the audience was mostly older; probably people who remembered Cassidy McLean's glory years in movies.\n\nA steady stream of foot traffic was going by on the sidewalk, and a few more people came in to listen to the talk.\n\nWhen Samantha came out, the crowd gasped in delight. The black and white creature was about a foot and a half long, with eyes ringed in black and a long, striped tail that she swished about to great effect. As Cassidy talked about how Samantha had come to the refuge, and about ring-tailed lemurs in general, Kate noticed Zach and his ex-wife, Sherry, standing in the open door to the bookstore. Sherry, she of the Miss World bone structure, was scowling, her arms crossed over her chest.\n\n\"Is that her?\" Sherry said, pointing at Kate.\n\nZach put a hand on Sherry's shoulder and said something to her that Kate couldn't hear.\n\n\"I just want to talk to her,\" Sherry said.\n\nAgain, Zach leaned toward Sherry's ear and murmured something to her.\n\n\"I don't give a shit!\" Sherry said, causing numerous people in the audience to turn around to look at her. \"I just want to talk to this bitch!\"\n\nKate didn't know what was happening, but it didn't seem like anything good. She asked Fury to hold down the fort and charged toward the front door to head off any trouble before it came into her store.\n\n\"Is there something I can help you with?\" she asked the couple.\n\n\"Kate,\" Zach said. \"I'm really sorry. I... \"\n\n\"You shut your mouth,\" Sherry said, throwing him a look that would have immolated him, had she been gifted with pyrokinesis.\n\n\"Maybe we should step outside,\" Kate said. She led Zach and Sherry out onto the sidewalk. Then, considering, she closed the front door of the bookstore behind them so the customers inside wouldn't hear whatever was about to happen.\n\n\"Now. What's this about?\"\n\n\"It's about you screwing my husband,\" Sherry said.\n\n\"What? I never... \"\n\n\"Sherry,\" Zach said.\n\n\"That was your house where we had dinner, wasn't it?\" she demanded. \"Don't lie, you skank.\"\n\n\"Hey!\" Kate protested. \"Let's just back up a bit.\"\n\nSherry grabbed Zach's cell phone out of his hand and pulled up the lengthy call history between him and Kate. Then, triumph on her face, she pulled up their texts and shoved the phone into Kate's face.\n\n\"Did you _read_ the texts, Sherry?\" Zach demanded. \"Because if you did, you'd see there was nothing in there! Just friendly, innocent, how-was-your-day kind of stuff!\"\n\n\"Why were you asking her how _her_ day was?\" Sherry said, on the verge of tears. \"Why weren't you calling _me_ , asking _me_ how _my_ day was? And then you took me to her _house_... \"\n\n\"Sherry. Honey.\"\n\nHe put a hand on her arm, and she shook it off. \"Don't touch me!\"\n\n\"We planned that dinner for _you_ ,\" Kate tried.\n\n\" _You_ planned it?! _You?!_ \" Sherry was spinning into near hysteria. She grabbed Kate by the shoulders and started shaking her. \"I'm going to beat your scrawny ass!\" she screamed.\n\nA crowd was starting to gather as Zach grabbed Sherry and tried to pull her away. Kate was just starting to think about the self-defense classes she'd taken in college—aim for the eyes, she recalled—when Sherry suddenly let go of her and moved backward three feet as though displaced by an alien ray gun. Kate stood there stunned, wondering what had happened, and then she saw Jackson, who'd appeared out of nowhere, setting the other woman down on the sidewalk and standing in front of Kate, blocking Sherry's access to her.\n\n\"Where did you come from?\" Kate said, stunned.\n\n\"What the hell is going on here?\" Jackson demanded of Zach.\n\n\"I'm sorry, man,\" Zach said. \"My wife, she gets a little jealous.\"\n\n\"Wife?\" Sherry demanded. \"I'm not your wife anymore, you cheating asshole!\"\n\nJackson looked over his shoulder at Kate. \"You slept with this guy?\"\n\n\"No!\" Kate said.\n\n\"No, no!\" Zach said. He likely would have said that whether it were true or not, considering that Jackson was taller than him and outweighed him by a good fifty pounds.\n\n\"Somebody had better make things clear to me,\" Jackson said, a threat in his voice.\n\n\"Sherry saw the phone calls and texts between me and Zach,\" Kate said. \"When we were planning the dinner.\"\n\n\"Then there were the calls to your landline when I was doing comps for the house,\" Zach added.\n\n\"Comps?\" Kate said.\n\n\"Yeah, for the house,\" Zach repeated. \"I told you before, I was talking to her _dad_ , for Christ's sake,\" he said to Sherry.\n\n\"You're selling your house?\" Jackson asked Kate, turning to look at her.\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"You're not?\" Zach said. \"But your dad... \"\n\n\"Wait!\" Kate waved her hands wildly in front of her face in an effort to clear away her confusion. \"My dad? What exactly did he say to you?\"\n\n_\"Hello!\"_ Sherry said. \"Can we get back to how he's a cheating asshole and you're a skanky whore?\"\n\n\"I am _not_ a skanky whore!\" Kate yelled.\n\nAs the altercation got louder, people started to come out of the store to watch the much more entertaining scene playing out on the sidewalk. Kate saw that her father and Sherry were among the gawkers.\n\n\"Dad. Did you tell Zach I was selling my house?\" Kate demanded.\n\n\"Well, I... \"\n\n\"He said he wanted to know what it would go for, get the ball rolling,\" Sherry said, now having apparently forgotten about her initial mission.\n\n\"Get the... What the... \" Kate sputtered in her anger and disbelief. Suddenly, the guy taking pictures of her house made sense.\n\n\"I just thought... \" Thomas began.\n\n\"That is _it,_ \" Kate yelled. \"That is goddamned _it_!\"\n\n\"Don't you talk to your father that way!\" Angela demanded. \"Oh! My blood pressure!\"\n\nAt that moment, Jazzy, apparently upset by the yelling, leaped out of Angela's purse and darted into the bookstore, tearing after the lemur, who was cradled in Cassidy McLean's arms. Jazzy barked, yipped and yelped. Samantha let out a loud, wailing howl and sprinted out of Cassidy's arms and into the back of the store.\n\n\"Jazzy!\" Angela cried.\n\n\"Oh, shit,\" Kate said.\n\nKate heard crashing sounds from inside the store as guests who were uncertain whether lemurs could be dangerous decided that caution was preferable to hospitalization and high-tailed it out onto the street.\n\n\"Samantha!\" Cassidy cried, rushing into the back room after the lemur and the frenzied little dog.\n\nKate pushed her way through the crowd and rushed into the store with Jackson behind her. Bringing up the rear was Angela, exclaiming, \"If that little ferret hurts my Jazzy... \"\n\n\"It's not a goddamned ferret,\" Cassidy McLean yelled at her. \"It's a ring-tailed goddamned lemur!\"\n\nKate grabbed Fury. \"Clear out the store,\" she told him. \"Get everybody out of here. The last thing we need is for somebody to get bitten.\" He nodded and rushed around apologizing and herding people toward the door.\n\nKate, Jackson, Cassidy, Angela, Thomas, Samantha, and Jazzy all were crowded into the tiny back room. Samantha was on top of a cabinet, letting out her horrific, ear-splitting wail, while Jazzy was on his hind legs, front legs planted on the front of the cabinet, growling and yipping.\n\nKate scooped up Jazzy and turned toward Angela. \"Get him out of here!\" she said, thrusting the tiny dog into Angela's hands.\n\n\"How dare you talk to me like that!\" Angela said, her Mary Kay–coated lips in an angry pout.\n\n\"You're right. I'll correct my language. Get him _the hell_ out of here.\" She glared at her father. \"And take Jazzy, too.\"\n\nBehind her, Jackson let out a guffaw.\n\nWhen Kate's father and stepmother had left with the dog, Cassidy made soothing coos and kissing noises at Samantha. When that didn't work, she offered Samantha some kind of lemur treat she produced from her bag. The lemur scurried down onto Cassidy's shoulder. Cassidy scooped her up and put her back in her carrier.\n\n\"Cassidy, I'm so sorry,\" Kate said.\n\nCassidy's face was red, her hair askew. \"Do you know what could have happened to Samantha? Do you realize how easily she could have gotten hurt?\"\n\n\"I didn't... I... \"\n\n\"Come on, baby,\" Cassidy said to the lemur, carrying the cage back into the main part of the store.\n\nWith some semblance of order restored, Kate turned to face Jackson.\n\n\"You just appeared out of nowhere and pulled that lunatic off of me. Where did you come from?\"\n\n\"We got all the food delivered, and I thought I'd stop by.\"\n\nHe looked at her. She looked at him. She was still breathing heavily, her chest heaving. Her emotions were high, her every nerve on high alert.\n\n\"Screw Date Five,\" she said, and launched herself at him.\n\nOne second they were feet apart, talking, and the next, she had her body wrapped around him, her mouth on his in an explosion of desire. His arms were around her, his hands in her hair, holding her head to him, his mouth devouring hers. He backed her up against a bookshelf, and books fell to the floor around them.\n\n\"Oh. God.\" Her blood was a river of fire within her. She reached up and grabbed his shirt and ripped it open. Buttons flew.\n\n\"Let me just... the door... \" With one leg, he reached back and kicked closed the door to the main part of the store.\n\nShe ran her hands over his chest, feeling the warm, smooth skin, the hard muscles. He tore off the ripped shirt and pressed his body against hers, putting his mouth on hers, then moving down to her jaw, her neck, the V of skin exposed by her blouse.\n\n\"Oh, I... oh...\" She couldn't remember ever feeling this, not with Marcus, not with anyone. This urgency, this need. This desire to climb inside of him and be a part of his beating heart.\n\nHe started to unbutton her blouse, but then, impatient, he yanked it off over her head. His mouth traveled lower and pressed its warmth to the top of her breast, his tongue exploring.\n\nKate moaned, a low and throaty sound.\n\nThe door to the store started to open as Fury called, \"Kate?\"\n\nJackson separated from her just long enough to close the door and search for a lock. \"How do I... ?\"\n\n\"It doesn't lock. Here.\" She grabbed a crate of books and pushed it in front of the door, and they attacked each other again. This time she was the one who shoved him up against the wall. A manila folder of paperwork that had been stacked on a shelf above them fluttered its contents around them like fall leaves.\n\nHis hands were on her, all over her, and he roughly pulled her skirt up until it was bunched around her waist. He grabbed her ass and pulled her to him, and she felt his arousal against her body.\n\n\"Maybe we should stop. This isn't how I wanted to do this,\" he began, his voice a husky rasp.\n\n\"This is Date Five,\" she said, desperate to have his naked body pressed against hers.\n\n\"What? This is... \"\n\n\"You're my date for the Art Walk.\"\n\n\"Kate, that's... \"\n\n\"Just go with it, Jackson! For Christ's sake!\" She unbuckled his belt, and he groaned with pleasure.\n\nHe proved to be surprisingly nimble at removing her bra, and she was reminded that he'd had plenty of practice with that sort of thing. But how could she be anything but grateful for his skill? For the masterful way he handled her as his hot mouth closed over her breast.\n\nShe felt crazy, driven mindless by the force of her need. She grappled with his zipper, and then when he was freed of his pants she wrapped her hand around him and heard him breathe her name.\n\nA knock came at the back door leading to the alleyway. This door did lock, and Kate reached out and turned the dead bolt. \"Kate?\" Angela rapped on the door. \"Kate, open up right this minute. I want to speak to you about the way you treated me and your father. Kate?\"\n\n\"Ignore her,\" Jackson murmured into her ear, his body holding her up against the wall. \"Just pretend she's not there.\" His hand went into the waistband of her panties and traveled downward until he found her, all warm and wet for him. He put a finger inside her and she pressed her mouth against the salty skin of his neck to keep from crying out.\n\n\"Jackson,\" she said, her voice a plea. \"I can't wait anymore. I can't... \"\n\n\"Ah, shit,\" he moaned.\n\n\"What? What?\"\n\n\"Condoms. I don't have any goddamned condoms.\"\n\n\"Wait!\" she said. \"I do!\"\n\nHe pulled back from her slightly. \"You do?\"\n\n\"In my purse! In case we couldn't hold out until Date Five!\"\n\nHe smiled seductively. \"I love a woman who's prepared.\"\n\n\"There's no time for banter! Just get them!\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\nShe pointed a few feet away, to where her purse sat on a shelf. Without releasing her, he lunged for it, hunted around inside, then finally dumped it out, scattering her wallet, pens, lipsticks, tampons.\n\n\"There!\" She pointed.\n\nHe grabbed a little square packet and ripped it open with his teeth. With the business of safety attended to, he hooked his fingers into the waist of her panties and pulled them down, then lifted her up onto him, her back pressed against the plaster wall.\n\nShe felt so many sensations. His body in hers, thrusting urgently. The taste of his skin, salty and hot. The feel of his breath on her, the sound of his voice moaning her name. The raw, aching need in the center of her body, building, building, rushing to a devastating crescendo.\n\nWhen her orgasm hit, she felt like she was flying apart. She cried out, mindless to the fact that someone might hear, aware only of him and the way he made her feel.\n\nHe moved into her urgently until his own body shuddered with release.\n\nThey clung to each other, sticky with sweat, their hearts beating fast, breathing hard. He brought a hand up to smooth a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead. They slowly lowered to the floor, where they sat propped against the wall, wrapped in each other's arms.\n\n\"Kate,\" he said. \"Jesus.\"\n\n\"That was... \" she said. \"I've never... \"\n\n\"I know. Me neither.\" He rested his chin on top of her head in a way that made her feel safe, protected.\n\n\"I'm not new at this,\" she said. \"But that was... There are no words.\"\n\n\"I know.\" He paused. \"I wanted to do this right. Not in the back room of your store.\" He looked around them at the mess they had made.\n\nShe laughed. \"If that was doing it wrong, then doing it right might kill me.\"\n\nThe pounding at the back door came again. \"Kate! I can hear you in there!\"\n\nJackson laughed his sexy, husky laugh. \"Maybe you should just let her in.\"\n\nShe considered that. \"Not a bad idea. It might make her think twice about invading people's privacy.\"\n\n\"Then again, I don't want to share you with anybody right now. Especially her.\" He kissed the top of her head tenderly.\n\nThey sat entwined, naked, floating on the cloud of their afterglow.\n\n\"Best Art Walk ever,\" Kate said.\n\n# 20\n\nKate and Jackson got dressed the best they could. For Kate, only the flush of her skin and the smudge of her makeup gave her away. But Jackson was left without a shirt, having had his ripped from his body in a hail of buttons and torn fabric.\n\n\"What am I supposed to do about this?\" he said, holding the ruined garment in his hand.\n\n\"Oh. Wow. I'm sorry about that,\" Kate said.\n\n\"Don't get me wrong, I liked it. I might have this framed,\" he said, gesturing to the shirt. \"But what am I going to wear?\"\n\nShe rummaged around in the back room until she found a carton with some promotional T-shirts left over from an event she'd held a few months before. She sorted through the shirts until she found one that would fit him, and tossed it to him.\n\n\"Emily Brontë?\" He looked at Kate uncertainly. \"How am I gonna explain this to my guy friends?\"\n\n\"If you tell them this story, you'll be their hero,\" she said, smirking at him. \"Or you could always go bare-chested. That would be my preference, actually.\"\n\nHe snapped her with the T-shirt like a guy in a locker room. \"Vixen.\"\n\n\"You bet.\"\n\nWhen they were at least reasonably put together and Kate had scooped the contents of her purse back into the bag, Angela banged on the back door again.\n\n\"What do you say, Jackson?\" Kate asked, her hands planted on her hips, empowered by sexual satisfaction, adrenaline, and not a small amount of pure Jackson Graham. \"You want to help me kick my worthless father out on his ass?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't miss it,\" he said. \"Lead the way.\"\n\nKate flung open the back door to find Angela with her fist poised in mid-knock.\n\n\"Well, it's about time you opened the door. I have some things to say to you.\" Angela's face was a mask of indignant fury and Mary Kay lilac eyeshadow. \"You owe us an apology. You should be ashamed of yourself. The way you treat us... \"\n\nKate grabbed her purse and pushed past Angela, and she and Jackson headed toward her car.\n\n\"Do you need to lock up?\" he asked.\n\n\"Fury's here. And anyway, I'll be back. This won't take long.\"\n\n\"Kate! You come back here and listen to what I have to say,\" Angela bleated. \"Kate!\"\n\nWithout looking back, Kate went to her Honda, got in, and fired up the engine. Jackson's butt had barely landed in the passenger seat before she pulled out of the tiny parking lot and headed toward home.\n\n\"Are you okay to drive?\" Jackson asked, buckling his seat belt. \"Not too upset?\"\n\n\"I feel fine,\" she said, meaning it. It was the first time she'd felt this fine in a very long time.\n\nWhen they arrived at her house, she pulled into the driveway with a screech of brakes. She got out of the car and power-walked to the front door. She unlocked it, went inside, and headed across the living room toward the big sliding glass door that opened out onto the balcony. She opened the door wide.\n\nWith the way cleared, she went into her bedroom, opened the closet and the dresser drawers, and started gathering armloads of her father's and Angela's belongings. Her arms full of shirts, pants, shoes, belts, and the various pieces of their wardrobes, she went out onto the balcony and heaved everything over the side. Garments fluttered to the damp grass below.\n\n\"Kate, are you sure about this?\" Jackson said.\n\n\"Grab a handful and help me.\" She went back into the bedroom for another load. Shoes, socks, underwear, belts, T-shirts, all took flight over the balcony railing and landed in a heap on the lawn, startling a doe that had been grazing beneath a tree.\n\n\"Here, grab this.\" She handed Jackson the big, wheeled suitcase. \"It's heavy.\"\n\nJackson took the suitcase and hefted it into the great beyond.\n\nToiletries, Angela's makeup case, Jazzy's dog bed. Her father's orthopedic pillow. Their special coffee, her sleep mask, his robe and slippers, all of it sailed into the night and down onto the grass, where a pile of alarming size was forming.\n\nWhen Kate headed toward the balcony with Thomas's laptop computer, Jackson put a hand on her arm to stop her. \"Are you sure you want to throw that?\"\n\nShe looked at the computer, and then at him. \"Shit. You're right.\" Instead of throwing it, she took it outside, walked down the stairs past Gen's apartment, and placed the laptop on top of the pile of her father's things.\n\nKate was just coming back up the stairs when Thomas and Angela arrived, piloting the mammoth pink Cadillac.\n\nAngela spotted the mountain of miscellany on the lawn and screamed. Neighbors peeked their heads out of their front doors, inquiring whether everything was okay.\n\n\"What in the world is going on here?\" Thomas demanded. \"Is that how you run your store? Is this how you run your home? It's lucky I'm here. There's no telling what you'd... \"\n\n\"You're leaving,\" Kate said.\n\n\"How dare you talk to me this way? I'm your father,\" he said.\n\n\"Right. You're my father. Let's just take a look at your performance so far, shall we?\" Kate was squared off against him, her hands on her hips, magnificent in her anger. \"You were controlling and manipulative the entire time I was growing up. You made my mother miserable. And then you left her for another woman.\" She glared at Angela. \" _This_ woman. You left my mother alone, so that when she was facing the worst time of her life, when she was dying of _cancer_ ,\"—her voice broke—\"she didn't have the man who had promised to be there until death do you part.\"\n\nJackson put a steadying hand on her shoulder, and she took strength from it. \"And now, when she's gone, you come here and tell me that you _deserve_ to have this house, _her_ house, as though you already haven't taken enough from her. From me. You force your way in here, take over my home, my bedroom, my life, showing no respect for me, no respect for anything I've built here. And finally,\" she said, taking a deep breath, \"you try to sell my house from under me so you can take and take and take, because you won't be satisfied until I'm left with nothing. No home, no money, no father, and no self-respect. Does that about cover it?\"\n\nFor once, he was silent. Angela, however, was not. \"How can you... \"\n\nJackson pointed a finger at Angela, his look deadly calm. \"Don't.\"\n\nHer mouth snapped shut.\n\n\"Where do you expect me to go?\" Thomas said.\n\n\"I don't care. A Motel 6. A box on the side of the road. Hell. Your choice.\"\n\n\"Never in a million years did I think my daughter would treat me this way,\" he said.\n\n\"Well, it'll be the last time,\" Kate said. \"It'll be the last time I'll have to. Because I'm done with you. I'm finished. It's over. Give me my spare key.\"\n\nShe held her hand out for the key and stared at him. After a moment of hesitation, he picked it out of his pocket and placed it in her palm. She walked into the house, with Jackson behind her. She closed the door, and locked it.\n\nOnce she was inside, once the adrenaline of the situation started to drain out of her, she started to shake. \"Aw, come here,\" Jackson said, taking her into his arms. \"You did what you had to do. It was the right thing. I'm proud of you.\"\n\n\"I know,\" she murmured into his T-shirt. \"I'm proud of me, too.\"\n\n\"But it's still hard.\"\n\n\"It is.\"\n\nHe was still holding her tightly in his arms when they heard the Cadillac start up and drive away.\n\nSunday was all clear skies and brilliant sunlight. Kate sipped her first cup of coffee in an Adirondack chair on the deck, watching the breaking waves in the cool of the morning. She'd invited Jackson to stay the night with her, but when he'd come to Swept Away the night before, he'd only expected to drop in to say hello; he'd had things to wrap up at the restaurant and didn't expect to be finished until late. She'd had to return to town, too, to send Fury home and reassure him that she didn't expect the chaos of the evening to be righted all in one night.\n\nToday she'd have to go to work and fix everything—the mess, the damage, the broken things, and especially the rampant small-town talk about everything that had taken place. But now, sitting here in the morning light with a truly excellent cup of coffee, she couldn't get the goofy grin off her face.\n\n\"Kate?\" The voice was coming from the patio right beneath her deck. Gen.\n\n\"Hey,\" she answered.\n\n\"Are you alone?\"\n\nKate smiled. \"I am.\"\n\n\"Want company?\"\n\n\"Sure. Come on up.\"\n\nShe heard Gen's feet padding on the stairs and then heard her come in the front door with the key Kate had given her when Gen had moved in. \"Good morning, honey,\" Gen called to her.\n\n\"It really is,\" Kate answered.\n\nGen made a stop in the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee from the pot and came out onto the deck. She was still dressed in flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers, her wild mass of red curls piled atop her head. She plopped down into the other Adirondack chair and sipped silently for a few moments.\n\n\"Aren't you going to ask?\" Kate said.\n\n\"About which part? I don't even know where to start.\"\n\nKate looked at her with one eyebrow raised.\n\n\"Okay, maybe I do know where to start. I heard that you and Jackson... that the two of you went into the back room of the store, and... there were _sounds_.\" She left the rest dangling there in the space between them.\n\nKate nodded. \"There were, indeed, sounds.\"\n\n\"So you... ?\"\n\n\"We certainly did.\"\n\nGen stomped her feet excitedly against the wood of the deck. \"Oh, wow! In the back room of the store? During Art Walk? Oh my gosh. Was it awesome? Kate. Was he awesome? Because it always seemed like he'd be awesome.\"\n\nKate smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. Then she sighed. \"It was... I don't even know how to say it. I don't have the vocabulary for what it was. It was like he broke me into a thousand pieces and then put me back together again. I'm just... \" A tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped it away.\n\n\"Oh, honey.\" Gen was alarmed. \"You're crying.\"\n\nKate laughed.\n\n\"But they're happy tears?\" Gen ventured.\n\n\"I don't even know what they are. I don't even know. My Art Walk event was ruined, I got called a skanky whore, I got physically attacked by Zach's crazy ex-wife, I had revelatory sex—the best sex of my life, or of anyone's life, probably—I threw my father out of my house and told him I'm finished with him. There's just so much _processing_ to do.\"\n\nGen sighed and leaned back in her chair. \"Wow. The best sex of anybody's life.\"\n\n\"God. You can't know. It really, really was.\"\n\n\"And you're okay?\"\n\n\"I am,\" Kate said. \"I honestly think I am. I'm better than okay. I'm better than I've been in a long time, maybe ever.\"\n\n\"Where does that leave you and your father?\" Gen asked.\n\nKate shrugged. \"I told him we're done. And that makes me sad, because even when someone treats you like crap, you still have hope that someday they'll change, that someday they'll stop treating you like crap and act like a father is supposed to act. And giving up that hope is hard. It hurts. But there's relief, too. And, I'm worried about him. He said he had nowhere to go. That might not have been bullshit.\"\n\nGen rubbed Kate's forearm with her hand. \"But you can't solve his problems.\"\n\n\"No, I can't. He made them. He has to solve them.\"\n\n\"And where does all of this leave you and Jackson?\"\n\nKate set down her mug on the deck and rubbed at her face with her hands. \"Ah, God. I don't know. I thought I'd be able to just have fun with him, you know? Go on some dates, maybe have some good times in bed. Before he moves on. Because he always moves on. But now... \"\n\n\"Uh oh,\" Gen said.\n\n\"Yeah.\" Kate laughed at herself. \"Uh oh.\" She looked at Gen. \"Do you think he's capable of having a real relationship? I mean, we know his history. Do you think he can handle something real? Does he even want that?\"\n\nGen looked thoughtful. She shrugged. \"Ask him.\"\n\n\"He says he wants to give this a shot. Says he wants this to be different from his usual hit-and-run. But even if that's what he wants, will he be able to do it?\"\n\nGen shook her head slowly, considering. \"Maybe he's ready. And maybe that's just wishful thinking. But I'll tell you what.\" She looked intently at Kate. \"You never could have done what you did with your father before Jackson.\"\n\nKate gave a shaky sigh. \"You think?\"\n\n\"He's... I don't know. He's making you stronger. More confident. He's a good influence.\"\n\nThey sat together in companionable silence, drinking their coffee and watching the hummingbirds hover and flit around the tree right off the deck.\n\n\"I'm so jealous right now,\" Gen said finally.\n\nKate looked at her. \"Jealous?\"\n\n\"I want this. This aching over a man. This afterglow. This... Just this. Where's _my_ man? I'm thirty-four years old, and I've been looking since I was eighteen. _Where is my man?_ \"\n\n\"You date,\" Kate reminded her.\n\n\"Yeah, but not like this. I haven't felt\"—she gestured toward Kate—\"this.\"\n\nKate gave Gen a wry smile. \"If he crushes me like a tin can, you're not going to be so jealous anymore.\"\n\n\"He won't.\"\n\n\"He might.\"\n\nSince there was nothing to say to that, no comforting words that would actually be true, Gen reached out and took Kate's hand, and they sat together while the sea lions barked out their early morning greetings.\n\n\"What the hell happened at Kate's shop last night?\" Daniel demanded. Jackson got the call over his cell phone when he was on his way from his meat supplier back to the restaurant. \"I was stuck over at the gallery giving a talk, but the stories... I've heard everything from a wild animal attack to Kate getting beaten up in the street.\"\n\nJackson grinned. \"Nothing as dire as that.\"\n\n\"Which part?\"\n\n\"Either.\" He explained that the wild animal attack was actually a yappy dog and a frightened lemur hiding on top of a cabinet, and that rather than being beaten up, Kate had been accused of shenanigans with someone else's man.\n\n\"Hmm. Did she do it?\" Daniel inquired.\n\n\"No. Well, she went out with him once, and they're friendly.\"\n\n\"I'm thinking the dispute centers on people's varying definitions of the word 'friendly,' \" Daniel said.\n\n\"Pretty much.\"\n\nAfter a pause, Daniel said, \"I heard other things, too.\"\n\n\"I don't talk about such things,\" Jackson said. \"I'm a gentleman.\"\n\nDaniel scoffed. \"Since when?\"\n\n\"Since now. Since today.\"\n\n\"Uh huh. Does this protectiveness mean you're developing real feelings for her?\"\n\nJackson felt uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. He shifted in the driver's seat as he turned on Highway 1 toward town. \"I've had real feelings for her for a while now. You know that.\"\n\n\"But now they're _more_ real.\"\n\nJackson was silent.\n\n\"Look, Jackson,\" Daniel said. The teasing tone that had been in his voice all through the call was gone. \"I've known you for a few years now. This thing you do, with the women, the whole two-weeks-and-goodbye thing, it isn't making you happy, and you know it.\"\n\n\"I'm not the one who says goodbye. It's usually the women who say goodbye.\"\n\n\"Because you choose women you know won't stick around. Don't bullshit me and say you don't.\"\n\nJackson, irritated, said nothing.\n\n\"My point is,\" Daniel went on, \"you might actually have a shot at some happiness here. Don't screw it up.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure I know how. To not screw it up, I mean.\"\n\n\"You know what to do,\" Daniel assured him. \"You've just never done it.\"\n\nWhen Kate got to the store that morning, the residual calamity was worse than she'd remembered. The folding chairs were still out and were in complete disarray, their once tidy rows now gone, with some on their sides and others shoved this way and that while people fled the dog-and-lemur melee. It looked as though the chairs had gotten drunk, and many had passed out.\n\nThe refreshment table still bore the cold and dried-up remnants of last night's canapes, and someone had spilled the remains of the iced tea. In the back room, books still littered the floor from where Kate and Jackson had upended them during their passionate abandon. The papers from the file folder that had fallen lay like confetti around her feet.\n\nWhen she'd returned to the store last night after showing her father the door—or, actually, the pile of crap on the lawn—Fury had already started to clean up, and he'd offered to stay and help her. But he'd had a long day, so she sent him home. She had intended to set things right last night, but so many thoughts and feelings were swirling through her that she gave up and left it.\n\nNow, with morning light streaming through the front windows, she started folding chairs and stacking them against the wall for the rental company to pick up later in the day. When that was done, she threw out the leftover food from the refreshment table. She found a rag in the back room and wiped up the spilled tea.\n\nAs she sopped up the tea, the cell phone in her back pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out and looked at it. A text, from Jackson. It said:\n\n_I'm thinking about you._\n\nKate smiled, and a warmth spread over her skin. She texted back:\n\n_I'm thinking about you, too._\n\nA moment later, another vibration.\n\n_There's been some gossip about us, apparently._\n\nShe thought about her response, typed something in, then erased it. Finally, she settled on:\n\n_The best parts are true._\n\nHe sent her a smiley face. ☺ Then, this:\n\n_I need to see you again. Soon._\n\nThe thought sent a trill of excitement through her body.\n\n_Yes_ , she wrote. Just this. Just, yes. There could be no other answer for him, not now, not when she felt like this.\n\nKate spent the rest of the day fielding questions about the events of the night before. Rose and Lacy each called, of course, and it seemed that Cambrians from all over town just happened to stop in her store, wanting to chat. Some of the questions she could answer directly—like what happened with the lemur—and others she had to deflect—like what the hell was going on in the back room.\n\nShe called Cassidy McLean and apologized, sincerely, for the disaster her appearance had become. Zach called her and apologized, also sincerely, for the way Sherry had accosted her.\n\nBy the time Fury came to work, most of the mess had been cleaned up, and the store looked more or less the way it usually did.\n\n\"Crazy night,\" he said, glancing at her quickly and then averting his eyes, a clear giveaway that he'd heard the animal noises coming from the storage area—and not the ones made by the dog and the lemur.\n\n\"It certainly was.\"\n\n\"Is Cassidy McLean pissed?\"\n\nKate shrugged. \"Oh, I'm sure that wasn't one of the highlights of her career as an author. But she was gracious when I called her on the phone. Samantha's none the worse for wear, apparently. I told her I'd make a donation to the animal refuge.\"\n\nFury bobbed his head. \"That's nice of you.\" He was still avoiding her gaze.\n\n\"Fury. Look at me.\" She waited until he did. \"We both know what you're thinking about but not mentioning. Could we maybe just pretend that didn't happen, or that you weren't out here listening when it did? Could we just... maintain that fiction for the sake of our work environment, please?\"\n\nHe grinned and scuffed at the floor with his foot. It was such a childlike gesture coming from him, with his tattoo sleeves and his Goth makeup, that it made her feel an unaccountable affection for him.\n\n\"Sure,\" he said. \"We can do that.\"\n\n\"Excellent. Now, Mrs. Singer over on Burton called and said she has some books to trade for store credit, but she can't make it over here because of her mobility issues. Could you run over there and check out what she's got? You know what we need. Don't let her give you her old cookbooks and sewing machine manuals. Because she'll try.\"\n\n\"Got it, boss.\"\n\nWhen he was gone, she had time to think about what had happened, and what was to come. She had feelings for Jackson. Back when he'd first come to her house for the cooking lesson, she'd intended this as something casual. A few dates, maybe some easy, fun sex. It would be friendly. Relaxed. A way for her to ease back into dating. She knew Jackson's pattern with women, and she knew that he didn't do long-term. But she liked him, and she was open to some good-natured fun with him.\n\nBut all that had changed. It had changed quickly and permanently. It had changed as she'd learned that he loved books; as he'd listened to her—really listened—about her mother, and her father, and her complicated feelings about them; as he'd tried with an endearing earnestness to treat her differently than the other women he'd known; and as he'd touched her and brought her to heights of desire and pleasure she'd never experienced.\n\nNow, she was lost.\n\nThere'd be no going back, no reversing course, no way to turn off these feelings, which were real and strong.\n\nThat left one problem: Jackson was Jackson. And Jackson didn't do relationships.\n\nHe wanted to, she was sure of that. He wasn't setting out to use her or to treat her as disposable. He wanted to try, wanted something more substantial than what he'd had in the past. She believed that. The question was, could he do it? Could he change for her? Wanting something was one thing. Wanting it enough to do what it took to get it was entirely another.\n\nKate was leaving herself wide open for getting hurt. She knew that. And if she did get hurt this time, if he did decide that he was only cut out for short-term flings, it wasn't something she was going to get over quickly. But she couldn't walk away just to save herself from the risk. Walking away was no longer an option.\n\nShe'd just have to let this play itself out. She'd stay open, she'd give herself to him, because it was what her heart was telling her to do. If he didn't prove to be up to the challenge, then she'd just have to deal with those consequences when they came.\n\n# 21\n\nJackson had already planned Date Five, and it would have been a waste to discard a perfectly good plan just because the climactic finale had already happened. On the Monday following the Art Walk fiasco, Kate would leave Fury in charge of the store, and Jackson planned to pick her up at her house at midmorning for a drive to Big Sur. He'd made lunch reservations at a fine dining restaurant with a breathtaking view of the coast, and then, on the way back to Cambria, they would stop at McWay Falls to take in some scenery. For natural beauty, it was hard to beat Cambria, but if there was any place that could accomplish that, it was Big Sur.\n\nHe was just getting ready to leave his apartment on Monday morning to head for Kate's house when his cell phone rang. He snatched it up, hoping it wasn't Kate calling to cancel. It wasn't. The number was one he didn't recognize.\n\n\"Jackson Graham,\" he said, the phone propped between his shoulder and his ear.\n\n\"Jackson!\" a hearty, enthusiastic voice said. \"This is Tucker Elway. We met once, back when you were attending the California Culinary Academy. You probably don't remember.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I remember,\" Jackson said, interested now. \"Don't you own Joie in San Francisco now?\" Joie was a highly regarded French restaurant that Jackson had seen on numerous Top Ten lists for the Bay Area.\n\n\"That's right, that's right. Have you been in to join us?\"\n\n\"Not since you took over. I'm down in Cambria.\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm aware. I actually was down there the week before last and had a meal at Neptune.\"\n\nJackson's eyes widened. \"You did?\"\n\n\"Yeah, a week ago Sunday.\" He cited the items he'd ordered—two appetizers, two entrees, and three desserts—and it clicked. Tucker Elway was the guy Jackson had pegged as a food writer.\n\n\"That was you? I thought it was a critic. Pulled out all the stops expecting to see something in _Sunset_ magazine.\"\n\nElway chuckled good-naturedly. \"Yes, well. I wanted to see what you've got without making too much of a fuss about it. I'm looking for a new executive chef for Joie. I've been making the rounds, checking out candidates who interest me. And you interest me.\"\n\nJackson clutched the phone and dropped onto his couch. \"Executive chef? Who's there now? Isn't it Kerry de Barra?\"\n\n\"That's right. He's moving to the East Coast to be closer to his family. Plus, I've been wanting to take the food at Joie in a new direction for a while now.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" Jackson said. \"What new direction do you have in mind?\"\n\n\"I'd like to get you up here to the city to talk about it. Show you the restaurant, talk over some ideas. What do you think?\"\n\nWhat did he think? A year ago, Jackson would have given his left arm and one of his big toes to be executive chef at Joie. It was exactly the kind of opportunity he'd imagined when he'd been toiling away at culinary school, and later, when he'd been gaining experience making salads and plating desserts. But that was before Cambria had worked its charm on him, before it became something that felt suspiciously like home. It was also before Kate. Though he couldn't make life decisions based on a relationship that was only four dates old. Could he?\n\n\"Things are pretty busy at Neptune right now,\" he said, stalling. \"It's the summer tourist season.\"\n\n\"Ah, but surely you could get up here for a day. Sometime next week?\"\n\n\"Let me check my schedule and I'll call you back.\"\n\n\"I'll look forward to it.\"\n\nJackson was quiet as he drove up to Big Sur with Kate by his side. He couldn't help it; he had too much going on in his mind. Executive chef at Joie was the big leagues. It was the kind of job he'd dreamed of when he was still in training. Joie was a restaurant that got you written about in glossy magazines, a job that would ensure that everyone in the culinary world would know his name.\n\nThat was a double-edged sword, no doubt. They'd know your name if you made amazing food that had customers making reservations a month in advance, but they'd also know your name if you served trite, clichéd entrees that put one in mind of the early bird specials in Boca Raton.\n\nIf he hit a rough patch in Cambria, he could regroup and right his course in relative obscurity. At Joie, he'd succeed or fail in the spotlight. That was a lot of pressure.\n\nBut more than that, he was thinking about Kate. This was the first time he'd felt excited about a relationship—truly excited—in as long as he could remember. She was smart and beautiful; she was open and kind; she was _real_ in a way the Melanies of the world were not. And the physical chemistry they shared was something he hadn't been prepared for. He'd always loved sex. Hell, who didn't? But what had happened between them on Saturday night had taken the sex he was used to and cranked it up to ten, turned it to full volume, full color, full power. Two days later, he felt like he was still recovering.\n\nHe couldn't wait to find out if the lightning strike that had hit them on Saturday was a one-time thing, or if they could replicate it.\n\nIf he and Kate had been together for a year, or two years, he could take the job in San Francisco and ask her to go with him. They'd be making the decision together, as a couple. But they were only on Date Five, far too early to consult each other on life decisions. In his experience, relationships didn't last. Women didn't stay. Love was something he heard about from other people.\n\nWhat if they moved to the city together and it didn't work out between them? She'd be stranded in a place that wasn't her home, her business gone, resenting the hell out of him for upending the life she'd built for herself.\n\nHe was about halfway through this train of thought when it hit him like a punch to the gut that he was actually _thinking of taking her with him_. He was thinking long-term, which hadn't happened with any other woman in more than a decade. Not once.\n\nThe reality of it left him breathless.\n\n_Jesus._\n\nAnd that made him scared. Terrified. Women always left, and that was fine, because by the time they went he was usually ready for it anyway. But this time? This time, if she left, she was going to burn his world to the ground and leave him a charred, smoking wreck.\n\nAnd then. And then there was Cambria.\n\nHe'd come to love it. He'd come to think of it as home. He felt a peace there that he'd never felt in the Bay Area—or anywhere else, for that matter. He loved the pines and the deer and the crashing surf. He loved the tide pools and the sea lions and the squirrels that scampered over the bluff trails. He loved the wildflowers that carpeted the ground in the spring. He loved the fact that there were no chain restaurants, no drive-ins, no Starbucks. Hell, he even loved the tourists. Most of the time.\n\nBut opportunities like this did not come often.\n\n\"Jackson?\"\n\nIt was only a few hours to the Bay Area by car. Could a long-distance relationship work?\n\n\"Jackson.\"\n\nHis schedule at Joie would be even more crazy than what he was doing now. But he'd be closer to his parents...\n\n\"Jackson!\"\n\nHe snapped back into focus. \"Hmm? What?\"\n\n\"Where were you? In your head, I mean. What distant planet were you visiting?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" he said, embarrassed. \"I'm sorry. I just have a lot going on right now.\"\n\n\"Like what?\" She was looking at him, her face earnest and interested.\n\n\"Just... something going on at work.\"\n\n\"Nothing bad, I hope.\"\n\n\"No, no. I just have to think about some things, make some decisions. For the restaurant.\" It wasn't a lie, exactly. If he did go to work at Joie, it would affect Neptune profoundly.\n\n\"Okay.\" There was an edge to her voice that told him she was annoyed that he wasn't talking to her about whatever was on his mind.\n\nBut he couldn't yet. Couldn't figure out how.\n\nThey headed up the coast past Hearst Castle, past the stretch of beach where elephant seals congregated to nap on the sand and spar with one another, past Ragged Point, with its show-stopping views—and its crowds of tourists.\n\nThe day was stunning, with clear skies, cool temperatures, and light breezes. As the road climbed higher and grew more treacherous with its numerous twists and turns, the view improved exponentially. Pines towered to their right, sheer cliffs peered down onto rocky coastline to their left.\n\nHe didn't want to be an ass, didn't want to shut down on their date, which was, after all, Date Five, with its promise of earth-shattering sex at the end. So he brought himself back into the present and refocused his attention.\n\n\"Have you heard from your father or Angela?\" he asked. This could be a poor gambit, given the emotional nature of the subject matter. But it had to be asked.\n\n\"Not yet. But I will.\"\n\nHe spared her the briefest glance before putting his eyes back on the road. \"You seem pretty sure about that.\"\n\n\"Oh, I am,\" she said. \"We've been through this before. Right now, he's lying low in the hope that I'll cool down and forget what he did. The hope is that I'll feel guilty for treating him that way, then I'll eventually send him some money.\"\n\n\"Does that usually work?\"\n\n\"It does.\" She sounded grim. \"I'm ashamed to say it, but yeah, it usually does.\"\n\n\"But those other times, you—what?—you had words? Maybe spoke harshly? I doubt you threw his crap out on your lawn.\"\n\n\"That's true.\"\n\n\"So maybe this time, it'll stick.\"\n\n\"We'll see.\"\n\nThey were quiet for a few minutes, and then she said, \"Do you know that I'm getting two or three people a day driving by my house, checking it out to see if they want to make an offer? Before I knew what was happening, it was kind of freaking me out. Now I'm just annoyed.\"\n\n\"Zach didn't list it for sale, did he? Wouldn't he need your signature for that?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"No, he couldn't list it, but he did mention it to his real estate friends. People think they're going to jump on it the minute it goes on the MLS.\" She let out a harsh breath. \"Zach's really sorry, by the way. He had no idea my father was playing him. He's not used to getting the Thomas Bennet treatment the way I am.\"\n\n\"What's up with Zach and Sherry?\" Jackson asked. \"Did he get that worked out?\"\n\n\"No, I guess not. She believes him that we weren't involved. But she's still pissed that he was calling me as much as he was.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" Jackson said.\n\n\"Do you think she has a point?\" Kate asked.\n\n\"About what?\"\n\n\"I just mean, how would you feel if a woman you were involved with had a close male friend? I'm wondering if Sherry has a legitimate beef, if I crossed a line.\"\n\nJackson shrugged and shook his head. \"You've got to trust somebody, or there's no point in being with them. You want a guy friend, have guy friends. If you want to turn away from me and toward somebody else, that means I wasn't doing my job in the first place.\"\n\n\"Your job?\" There was amusement in her voice.\n\n\"Damn right.\"\n\n\"And what exactly do you see as the job description?\"\n\nHe shot a quick glance at her, saw the smile that played on her lips.\n\n\"Keeping you so utterly sexually satisfied that you'll scoff at any other man who's ballsy enough to look at you.\"\n\nShe cleared her throat. \"Oh.\"\n\nIt was a job he intended to take seriously.\n\nLunch in Big Sur was exquisite; at least, Kate thought so. If Jackson disagreed, he kept his opinions to himself. Then again, he probably shared Kate's assessment, considering that he ate everything on his plate.\n\nThey split a bottle of wine over their meal, which they ate at a window table with a staggering view of the ocean. Kate felt slightly drunk—a giddy and happy condition—when the waiter brought her dessert, a light-as-air hazelnut cake topped with chocolate ganache.\n\nThey talked and ate and held hands and drank—Jackson drank just a little, because he was driving, Kate a bit more—with the blue, churning artistry of nature as their backdrop. By the time their coffee arrived, Kate thought that she'd never had a more enjoyable meal.\n\n\"Jackson, thank you so much,\" she said, her hand resting in his on the table. \"This was wonderful.\"\n\n\"It's not over yet,\" he said. He appraised her with his gaze. \"You look happy.\"\n\n\"I am.\"\n\n\"The last couple of times we were together, you cried.\" His voice held a slight tease. \"I like making you happy.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" She smiled in a way that made her eyes shine. \"Maybe you can make a habit of it.\"\n\nHe picked up her hand and kissed it. \"I'd love to try.\"\n\nHe'd promised her the date wasn't over, and so on their way back toward Cambria they stopped at McWay Falls, took the short trail from the parking lot, and watched from the overlook as the eighty-foot waterfall plunged from the cliffs onto the beach below. Kate watched from the railing, and Jackson stood behind her, his arms around her. As she marveled at the beauty of the falls, he tenderly kissed her hair.\n\nFrom there, they walked back across the parking lot and onto a hiking trail that led them to another, smaller waterfall amid the lush greenery of ferns and towering pines. They made their way down to where the water tumbled over rocks and into a stream that flowed gently toward the ocean.\n\nKate sat on a piece of a fallen tree and started to take off her shoes and socks. \"Come on,\" she told Jackson. \"Let's wade in.\"\n\n\"Nah.\" He shook his head. \"It's probably cold as hell.\"\n\nShe tsked at him. \"I thought you were tougher than that.\"\n\n\"Bait me all you want. It's not gonna work.\" He sat on the log beside her, his shoes and socks still firmly on his feet.\n\nShe stepped into the water, onto the slippery rocks at the bottom of the stream, and gasped with the cold. \"Oh my God! It's like ice!\"\n\n\"Told you,\" he said smugly.\n\n\"It's refreshing,\" she taunted. \"You'll like it.\"\n\n\"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Here. I'll show you.\" Impulsively, she bent down, filled her hands with the bracingly cold water, and flung it at him.\n\nHe looked at her in shock, water dripping from his hair, from his face. \"I can't believe you did that.\"\n\nShe covered her mouth with her hands and giggled. The giggle turned to a shriek when he came at her, dashing into the water with his shoes still on, scooping up big handfuls of icy water and tossing them at her.\n\nThey splashed each other, running through the water and playing like a couple of kids, until he reached out and grabbed her, her foot slipped on the slick stream bed, and they both tumbled headlong into the water.\n\nThe cold left Kate shocked and trembling as she lay in the shallow stream, water up to her shoulders, Jackson lying on top of her, holding her in his arms.\n\n\"You're shivering,\" he said, his mouth inches from hers.\n\n\"Cold,\" she said. Then all thoughts of discomfort vanished as his mouth covered hers, sending torrents of heat through her veins.\n\nShe clutched at him, wrapped herself around him as he kissed her, not the frantic kiss of desperation they'd shared in the back room of the store on Saturday night, but a kiss that was more deliberate, more intentional; she felt the depth of meaning in this kiss, and her body responded to it.\n\n\"Oh,\" she said.\n\nHe dripped onto her from above, holding her, looking into her face. Her breath was heightened from the play, the cold, the passion of the kiss.\n\n\"We should probably get out of the water,\" he said at last, his voice rough.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nHer legs felt weak as he got up from on top of her and helped her up. They climbed out of the stream and onto dry land, and he grinned at her. \"You look half drowned.\" He wiped some water from her face with his hand.\n\nShe pushed at him playfully. \"You should have just gone in when I asked you to.\"\n\n\"That'll teach me.\"\n\n\"I would hope so.\"\n\nShe held his gaze, and felt magic. Pure, giddy happiness, and tenderness, and something else that might have been love.\n\n# 22\n\nThe drive back to Cambria was long, and by the time they got there, they could barely keep their hands off each other. There was a quick discussion of where they should go—his place or hers. Kate suggested his, because it was marginally closer. But Jackson pointed out that being one floor above his place of work meant a high likelihood of interruption. That settled it. He drove—maybe a little too fast due to a sense of urgency—down Ardath Drive to her house at Marine Terrace.\n\nHe parked on the street, and they hurried to the front door, his wet shoes making a squishing noise with every step.\n\n\"Let me just... \" In her hurry, she had a hard time getting her key into the lock, so he took it from her and opened the door.\n\n\"Is Gen downstairs?\" he asked. She understood the question. There might be noise.\n\n\"Working.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\nThey started stripping off their clothes as soon as they got the door closed, and by the time they reached her bedroom, they'd left a trail of wet garments leading from the front door, through the living room, and into her room. Fully nude, she fell onto the bed, and he lowered himself on top of her. She'd been cold in her wet things, but his body was hot, and she devoured him with her mouth, with her hands.\n\nHe smelled like stream water and sunshine.\n\nPoised above her, he looked down into her face. \"This. This thing with us,\" he whispered. \"This is... \"\n\nShe nodded. The way he looked at her told her what he was trying to say.\n\nNow, with the afternoon and evening stretching before them, they took the time to explore each other with their hands, their mouths, feeling, tasting, memorizing the landscape of each other's bodies.\n\nHe told her to lie still, and she stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam while he ran his tongue and his fingertips over her throat, her breasts, her belly, her legs. Her skin quivered with need in the wake of each feathery touch. He rose up her thighs and came to rest between them, tasting and touching. The tension rose and grew until she arched her back and cried out.\n\nSated for now, she turned her attention to him, learning his body the way he'd learned hers. She surprised herself with her own boldness after all this time, this interminable time of loneliness. She used her mouth on him, and he held his hands in her hair.\n\nWhen he could no longer endure the wait, he rolled her onto her back. He finally, finally penetrated her, and she gasped with pleasure, with satisfaction. She was overwhelmed, overjoyed, and a tear slid down her cheek.\n\n\"Crying again,\" he murmured.\n\nHe kissed the salty path of her tears.\n\nAfterward, they lay together beneath the covers in the late afternoon light that streamed through the windows.\n\n\"Date Five was awesome,\" Kate said. \"I love Date Five. We should just do Date Five over and over again.\"\n\nJackson gave a low laugh and pressed a kiss to her temple. \"Works for me.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" she said after a while.\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"What was it that you didn't want to talk about earlier? When we were driving up to Big Sur? You were preoccupied, but you didn't tell me what it was about.\" She snuggled into his arms.\n\n\"Just a work thing.\"\n\nShe looked up into his face. \"But it's not _just_ a work thing, is it?\"\n\nHe was quiet for a while. Then: \"What makes you say that?\"\n\n\"Because you seem worried about it—whatever it is.\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" he said.\n\n\"But if you... \"\n\nHe silenced her words with his kisses.\n\nThey took a shower together, and after that, they ordered a pizza and sat out on her deck drinking beer from bottles and waiting for the food to arrive. Jackson's wet clothes were in the washing machine, and he'd tried without success to find something in Kate's house that he could wear until they were ready. Her bathrobe was too small for him, as were her sweatpants. So he lounged on the deck with a tablecloth wrapped around his waist. He'd considered using just a towel, but the relative lack of coverage made him worry about the view from the street below.\n\nBy now, it was early evening and the sky was beginning to show its first tinges of pink and orange.\n\nThe pizza came. Kate tried to pay for it, but Jackson insisted that he was the Date Five host, and that meant he would pay the pizza guy, even if they were in Kate's house. He scurried around the house in his tablecloth, looking for the wet wallet he'd pulled out of his pants before putting them in the washer.\n\nHe paid the pizza guy with a twenty that was still soggy, and they went back onto the deck and ate the pepperoni, sausage, and black olive pizza straight from the box.\n\n\"God, you look good in a tablecloth,\" she said as she munched on a slice of pizza. \"You should wear that all the time.\"\n\n\"Maybe I will. Though there could be safety issues at the restaurant.\"\n\nThey heard rapid footsteps coming down the stairs on the side of the house. A moment later, Gen's voice said, \"Hey, Kate, are you... ?\" Gen stepped out onto the lawn under the deck and peered up. When she saw Jackson in his tablecloth, her eyes widened.\n\n\"Gen.\" Jackson saluted her with the piece of pizza in his hand.\n\n\"Hi, Jackson. I'll just... I'll see you guys later.\" She popped back under the deck with a big grin on her face.\n\n\"She'll want to talk about this later,\" Kate said.\n\nJackson nodded. \"I'm sure she will. When you speak of me, speak well.\"\n\nThe next few days passed in a blur of bliss for Kate. Jackson's schedule at the restaurant was brutal, but they talked on the phone often, supplemented with texts and emails. He left the restaurant late every night, but that didn't stop him from dropping by Kate's house a few times after work to make love to her and sleep in her bed.\n\nKate was looking forward to his next night off so they could have a proper date, even if it was just a lazy night in eating takeout and watching Netflix. So she was surprised—but neither upset nor concerned—when he told her he had to go to the Bay Area the following Monday to visit his parents. He'd be there overnight, returning Tuesday.\n\n\"Is everything okay with them?\" Kate asked when he told her of his plans over the phone.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah. I just haven't been there for a while. My mom is laying the guilt on me whenever I talk to her. 'Jackson? Do I know a Jackson? I seem to vaguely remember that name.' That kind of bullshit.\"\n\nKate laughed. \"Right. I get it. Well, have a safe drive. I'll see you when you get back.\"\n\n\"I'm counting on it,\" he said.\n\nThere was something in his voice, though. She knew he wasn't telling her everything, but she tried not to worry about it.\n\nJackson did visit his parents on his trip to the Bay Area. In fact, he spent that night in his old room, sleeping on a futon now that his mother had removed his twin bed and his hockey posters and had brought in her sewing machine and scrapbooking supplies. But he also visited Tucker Elway at Joie.\n\nElway ushered Jackson through the restaurant, which was sleek with copper-plated ceilings, pale blue walls, and white tuxedo-style banquettes providing seating for blond wood tables. Here and there, small circular café tables were surrounded by high-backed chairs upholstered in purple velvet.\n\n\"Wow,\" Jackson said as they walked through the dining room, which was twice the size of the one at Neptune. The effect of the purple velvet might have been tacky or ostentatious, but instead the pop of color made the place look current and hip. It was midafternoon, so the dining room wasn't full, but neither was it empty. Three couples and two groups of women appeared to be enjoying drinks and appetizers.\n\n\"I'm pleased that you like it,\" Elway said. He was an older, white-haired man dressed entirely in black: black jeans, black T-shirt, black belt, black loafers. His haircut had probably cost more than Jackson's TV, and Jackson suspected that Elway got his eyebrows waxed. San Francisco was a different world than what he'd grown used to in Cambria. \"Let's just take a look at the kitchen.\"\n\nThey went through the swinging door into the kitchen, and Jackson stopped, stunned. This kitchen was everything Gavin Hughes, the owner at Neptune, would have provided if he could afford it. The gleaming stainless steel surfaces; the top-quality appliances; the large space that allowed for a level of organization unheard of at Neptune. Only a few kitchen staff were on duty at this time of day, because of the light demand, but the ones who were there worked with efficiency and expertise.\n\nElway showed Jackson around, introduced him to the kitchen staff, and then ushered him back into an office resplendent with hardwood floors, natural light, and a highly polished mahogany desk.\n\n\"Have a seat.\" Elway indicated his visitor chair—one of the high-backed purple numbers Jackson had seen in the dining room. \"Can I get you anything? Coffee?\"\n\nJackson accepted the coffee, and when he was comfortably sipping its enviable richness—this was, undeniably, better than the coffee at Neptune—Elway launched into his pitch.\n\n\"I'd like you to rework our menu. What we've got is good—it's gotten us this far—but it's not as fresh or interesting as I'd like. Joie is still a place you come to enjoy a fantastic meal, but it used to be a place you talked about. There was a prestige. Who's been there, who hasn't, what did you have to do to get a table, who was there when you went. That sort of thing. We haven't had that in a while. I want to get it back.\"\n\nJackson found himself nodding. \"Right. But you don't want to go so avant-garde that the food is a curiosity rather than a meal. People still have to want to eat it.\"\n\n\"Exactly. I'd love to hear your ideas.\"\n\nThey talked about concepts, themes, the practicalities of sourcing ingredients. Jackson forgot he was interviewing for a job. When he talked about food, he became absorbed and animated, and nothing else mattered. Elway pulled out a copy of the current menu, and they went over it item by item, discussing the good, the very good, and the outdated.\n\n\"So, when can you start?\" Elway said at last, leaning back in his chair.\n\n\"I... What?\" Jackson was caught off guard.\n\n\"Here's the salary I can offer you.\" Elway wrote a figure on a piece of note paper and slid it across the table. Jackson took a peek, and his heart did a little stutter. He was sure there had to be one too many zeroes here.\n\n\"That's not as high as it seems,\" Elway said. \"The rents here are astronomical.\"\n\n\"I know. I grew up in the Bay Area.\"\n\n\"That's right,\" Elway said. \"So you'd be coming home.\"\n\n_Home._ Interesting word. He once would have considered this to be home, but now he wasn't so sure.\n\n\"I'm going to have to think about it,\" he said. \"How soon would you need to know?\"\n\n\"I can give you a few days,\" Elway said. \"But after that I'm going to have to move on. I've got to get this job filled.\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\nThey shook hands, and Jackson went out to his truck, stunned at the memory of the dream kitchen and the figure written in black ink on a small, white piece of paper.\n\n\"So? How did it go?\"\n\nJackson sat at the kitchen table of his childhood home with his mother. His father sat in a reclining chair in the living room, watching a baseball game and occasionally yelling at the screen.\n\nClaire Graham, a woman in her fifties who, in earlier times, would have been described as handsome, had just come home from her shift at the hospital, and she looked dead tired as she sipped a cup of tea across from Jackson. Her reddish-brown hair was streaked with grey, and it was pinned up on top of her head to keep it out of her way. A large woman—fit, but with big bone structure—she'd come off as a formidable force when Jackson was younger. She still did.\n\n\"He's offering me a lot of money.\" Jackson, rather than drinking tea, held a squat glass with two fingers of Scotch on ice. He took a sip. The kitchen hadn't been updated since his childhood, and the vinyl flooring and Formica made him nostalgic for his youth.\n\n\"Takes a lot of money to live in San Francisco.\"\n\n\"It does.\" He looked into his glass, rattled the ice around a bit. \"Beautiful restaurant. You should see the kitchen.\"\n\n\"I'll bet,\" she said.\n\nAfter a while, he said, \"Elway wants me to create a new menu.\"\n\n\"Having control over the menu in a place like that? It's the kind of thing you've always wanted to do.\"\n\n\"It is.\"\n\n\"THAT WAS A STRIKE, YOU WORTHLESS BASTARD!\" Jackson's father yelled at the screen in the next room.\n\n\"Oh, for God's sake, Bill, quiet down. We're trying to talk!\" Claire called to him. She turned to Jackson. \"Sounds like an incredible opportunity.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"It really does.\"\n\nShe reached out and put her hand on his arm. \"Then why does it feel more like your dog died? What in the world is bothering you, Jackson?\"\n\nHe looked at the hand on his arm, at the Scotch in his glass. He shrugged. \"I'm not sure.\"\n\nShe put a hand under his chin and tipped his face up so he would look at her. \"You're a poor liar, Jackson Graham. Always were.\"\n\nHe grinned. \"Okay. There's this girl. Woman. In Cambria.\"\n\nShe scoffed. \"Isn't there always a girl in Cambria?\"\n\n\"OH, FOR... GET SOME GODDAMN GLASSES IF YOU CAN'T SEE THE GODDAMN BALL!\" Bill yelled.\n\n\"This one's different,\" Jackson told his mother.\n\n\"Uh oh,\" she said.\n\n\"Why? Is that a bad thing?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"No. Not at all. But it's a new thing for you, and I'm wondering if you're ready for it.\"\n\n\"I am, too.\" He drank some more of the Scotch and felt its warmth seep into him. \"If I take the job, I can be closer to you and Dad.\"\n\n\"Don't,\" she said. The vehemence in her voice startled him.\n\n\"Don't what?\"\n\n\"Don't use me and your father as an excuse to run away from this woman in Cambria because you're scared you might be in love. We're not exactly in our dotage. We'll get along here on our own, just like we have for the last few years.\"\n\n\"I wasn't doing that.\"\n\n\"Like hell you weren't.\" She gave him the look he remembered from his childhood, the one that said she knew what he'd been up to, and she was having none of it. \"The idea of a real relationship—the idea of love—might be frightening for you, Jackson, but it's time you faced that fear, don't you think?\"\n\n\"RUN! RUN, YOU... THAT'S IT, RUN!\" Bill said. \"AH, FOR THE... HE WAS SAFE!\"\n\n\"If I give this up, and she doesn't stay... \"\n\n\"Then at least you'll know you tried,\" Claire said. \"You'll know you weren't the one to walk out.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said, nodding. \"Yeah.\"\n\n# 23\n\nBefore Jackson had left for the Bay Area, he had talked to Ryan. Then, over beers at Ted's, Ryan talked to Daniel. And then, during a visit to the gallery to check on an installation, Daniel talked to Gen. Before Jackson even got into his truck to head back south to Cambria, knowledge of the real reason for his trip had filtered through town to just about everyone—except Kate.\n\nOn the phone with Kate on that Monday, toward the end of the workday, Gen had concern in her voice as she asked, \"So, how are you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm good,\" Kate said, upbeat and perky.\n\n\"Really?\" Gen asked doubtfully.\n\n\"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?\"\n\n\"Well, I thought you'd be worried about what Jackson's going to do.\"\n\n\"Do about what?\"\n\nAnd that's when the conversation took a turn. \"Oh. Shit. Nothing,\" Gen said. \"I... Nothing.\"\n\n\"Genevieve,\" Kate said. \"What the hell are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Oh, Jesus,\" Gen said.\n\nKate's pulse started to thump as a feeling of dread spread through her. \"What do you know that I don't? What is Jackson doing in the Bay Area? Is he even in the Bay Area? He said he was visiting his parents.\" She felt herself gripping the bookstore counter with her free hand until the pointed corner jabbed into her palm.\n\n\"Yeah, he really is up there.\"\n\n\"But he's not just visiting his parents.\"\n\n\"Um... no.\" Gen sounded miserable, as though she were near tears.\n\n\"I swear to God,\" Kate said, \"if you don't tell me right now, I'll... \"\n\n\"He's got a job interview. I'm so sorry. I thought you knew.\"\n\nKate's first reaction was relief, because she'd thought Gen was going to say he was up there with another woman. His past might have suggested such a thing. But when the reality of it hit—he was at a job interview, for a position more than two hundred miles away—the breath went out of her, and she had to sit down.\n\n\"What?\" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.\n\n\"Oh God,\" Gen said. \"Oh God. Listen. I'll get the girls. We need an intervention. Just stay there. Don't go anywhere. Okay?\" She hung up, and Kate sat behind the counter in her little store, stunned.\n\nShe knew Jackson had a track record of short-term relationships. She knew he wasn't usually a guy who stayed. She just hadn't expected him to run quite so quickly. He wasn't even gone yet—not really—and already, it hurt like hell.\n\nKate didn't have any right to cry and wail and wallow in self-pity. That's what she told herself. After all, they'd only been on five dates. Five dates didn't make a commitment. Five dates didn't mean forever. She wasn't naïve enough to think that sex changed anything. She didn't want to be the cliché, a woman who believed if a man had sex with her, it meant he loved her.\n\nBut even as she was reminding herself of all of that, she also had to acknowledge that there'd been magic. Whatever that mysterious pixie dust was that made you know someone was right for you—that they were the one—it had been sprinkled over Kate in generous, heaping handfuls, and no amount of logic could change that.\n\nShe'd thought he felt the same way.\n\nShe felt like an idiot.\n\nGen, Rose, and Lacy scooped Kate out of her shop, whisked her off to Rose's house, took away her cell phone so that Jackson couldn't call from San Francisco and tell her painful lies, and did that thing women do when one of their own has been heartbroken.\n\nThey trashed him.\n\n\"What an asshole,\" Rose said, shaking her head. They were all drinking wine Rose had brought home from her shop, in the hope that if Kate got really, really drunk, it would numb the sorrow. \"I've known him longest, so I feel like I can say that. He's just a big, puckered-up asshole.\"\n\n\"This is bullshit,\" Gen added. \"I mean, a guy shouldn't be lounging around on your deck wearing nothing but a tablecloth one day, and then driving off to the Bay Area seeking escape routes the next.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Lacy said. \"I want to hear more about the tablecloth.\"\n\n\"The tablecloth is beside the point,\" Gen went on. \"The point is, he did that, and now he's doing this. It's bullshit.\"\n\n\"And there's the sneaking. And the deception,\" Lacy said. She took a sizable slug of chardonnay. \"If there was an opportunity he just couldn't pass up, why didn't he just _tell_ you about it?\"\n\n\"Well. Maybe he's not sure what he wants to do,\" Rose offered. \"Maybe he doesn't know if he's going to take it, and why have a big, emotional conversation over something he might not even do?\"\n\n\"We're not defending him,\" Gen said. \"That's not why we're here. You're off-task.\"\n\nRose shrugged. \"I'm just saying... \"\n\n\"Just a minute ago you said he was an asshole,\" Gen reminded her. \"Let's get back to that.\"\n\n\"Well, just... Maybe he's not an asshole so much as he just doesn't have any relationship skills,\" Rose said.\n\n\"This is stupid. This is stupid,\" Kate said. It was the first time she'd spoken up since they'd arrived. \"We had five dates. Five. And I'm here acting like I've been left at the altar. Ugh. I'm the idiot. I'm the asshole in this scenario.\"\n\n\"Oh, honey,\" Gen said.\n\n\"What right do I have to think I have any claim on him?\" Kate demanded. \"After five dates? What right do I have to... \" She pressed a hand to her breastbone, the place where the hurt sat like a stack of hot rocks on her chest. \"... To _fall in love_?\"\n\nRose, who was sitting next to Kate on the sofa, reached out and rubbed Kate's arm. \"Oh, sweetie. The heart wants what it wants.\"\n\n\"This sucks,\" Kate said.\n\n\"Drink more,\" Gen said, refilling Kate's wine glass. \"It'll help.\"\n\n\"What exactly did Daniel say?\" Kate asked Gen.\n\nShe shrugged. \"He said Jackson got a call out of the blue from a guy who owns this fancy-schmancy restaurant in San Francisco, saying he was interested in Jackson for an executive chef job. He said it was a big opportunity. Money, glory, yadda yadda.\"\n\n\"So he wasn't actually _looking_ for a job? The guy just called him?\" Lacy asked.\n\n\"That's what I heard.\"\n\n\"Well, at least that's something,\" Lacy said.\n\n\"Not much,\" Rose said.\n\n\"Would you go with him?\" Gen ventured. \"To San Francisco?\"\n\nKate closed her eyes. \"If he asked? I feel like a stupid, idiot loser for saying this, but yeah, I probably would. I'd probably pick up my life and follow him like a puppy after five dates, because that's how ridiculously, stupidly in love I am. God, I suck.\"\n\nRose resumed the arm-rubbing. \"You don't suck,\" she said in a soothing voice.\n\n\"I want my phone,\" Kate said.\n\n\"No!\" Gen and Rose called out in unison as Lacy vehemently shook her head.\n\n\"Please?\"\n\n\"No way,\" Gen said. \"No, no, no. What if he called? What if he left some text or voice mail sticking with this charade that he's just visiting his parents? It's going to make you feel like shit. And if he didn't call, that'll be even worse.\"\n\n\"You'll have to give it back to me eventually,\" Kate reasoned. \"What's the difference?\"\n\n\"The difference is that we can't get you through the initial shock if he's texting and messaging and making it worse,\" Gen said. \"Trust us.\"\n\n\"But what if... \"\n\n_\"No,\"_ Lacy said.\n\n\"I should have known better.\" Kate buried her face in her hands. \"He's a leaver. He's not a... a stayer. We all knew that. I should have known.\"\n\nRose got up from the couch, went into the kitchen, rummaged around in a cabinet, and returned with a bottle of tequila and a stack of four shot glasses.\n\n\"Wine's not going to cut it,\" she said.\n\nThe drinking worked, but not in the way Kate would have expected. It wasn't the numbing effect of the alcohol that helped her get through her feelings about Jackson. It was the searing, grinding misery of the hangover. When you felt this bad, who could even sort out whether it was heartbreak or Jose Cuervo that had caused it?\n\nShe stumbled out of bed the next morning and made some strong, black coffee. She peeked at her cell phone—which had been returned to her, reluctantly, at the end of the night—and found two texts and a voice mail message from Jackson. In none of them did he mention a job interview.\n\n_Liar, liar, pants on fire._\n\nShe decided the best course of action was to do nothing. She erased the voice mail message and ignored the texts.\n\nKate fumbled around in the kitchen, found some Tylenol, and took a couple to combat her headache. Usually, she would drink her coffee out on the deck, but today, her eyes couldn't take the assault of sunlight. She kept the curtains drawn and huddled on her sofa with her coffee.\n\nAfter a while, Gen came upstairs and knocked with merciful gentleness on the front door. Kate dragged herself over and opened it. Gen looked almost as bad as Kate felt.\n\n\"Coffee?\" Gen said.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Kate answered, stepping back to let her in. \"Tylenol?\" she offered.\n\n\"Oh God, yes.\"\n\nWith the caffeine and the analgesic seeping into their systems, they sat side by side on the sofa, each of them still in pajamas, with mussed hair and bare feet, saying nothing.\n\n\"He called,\" Kate finally told Gen. \"One voice mail, two texts.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"Nothing, I guess.\"\n\nGen nodded. \"Yeah.\"\n\nBy the time Jackson got back into town on Tuesday afternoon, Kate still hadn't returned any of his calls or texts. He wondered if maybe her cell phone wasn't working. He tried her land line at home, and got no answer there, either. Finally, he called the store. Fury answered and said Kate wasn't available, though he would offer no more detail than that. The guy sounded kind of pissed.\n\nJackson got home, unpacked his overnight bag, flopped back on his sofa, and called Daniel.\n\n\"Hey, Jackson!\" Daniel sounded cheerful. \"How'd it go?\"\n\n\"Good. He offered me the job.\"\n\n\"Wow. How does the place look? Did he make you a good offer?\"\n\nJackson rubbed at the scruff of stubble on his chin. \"The place is amazing. And the offer is almost too good to believe. He wants me to create a new menu. A new menu, for a top-tier restaurant like that? This is the show, man. It's what I've been waiting for.\"\n\n\"Well, congratulations. Really.\"\n\n\"Yeah. I guess. Thanks.\"\n\nDaniel paused. \"You don't sound quite as excited as you should be.\"\n\n\"I am. No, I am. It's just... Kate hasn't returned my calls.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\nJackson sat up straighter. \"What does 'ah' mean?\"\n\n\"Well, it means I'm not all that surprised. She's got to be upset, right?\"\n\nNow Jackson stood. \"What do you mean? Upset about what?\"\n\n\"I'm just saying, you two seemed like you had something good starting up. And now you're looking to leave the area. She's got to be unhappy about it. You had to have expected that.\"\n\nJackson spoke slowly and deliberately. \"Daniel. How does she know about the job interview? Ryan is the only person I told. I knew he told you, but that was supposed to be it.\"\n\nDaniel was silent.\n\n\"Daniel?\"\n\n\"Oh, shit.\"\n\n\"Daniel.\"\n\n\"I told Gen. I didn't know it was a secret. I had no idea you didn't tell Kate. Why didn't you tell Kate?\"\n\n\"Ah, fuck.\"\n\n\"Listen... wow. I'm sorry, man.\"\n\nJackson rubbed at his face with his free hand. \"Okay. Don't worry about it. I'll... I'll talk to her. I'll deal with it.\"\n\n\"And you're gonna tell her what? That you're leaving? That'll go over well.\"\n\n\"Ah... damn it.\"\n\n\"Good luck with that, man.\"\n\nA few more phone calls went to voice mail, and he said screw it and headed over there. He walked into the bookstore, and she was behind the counter. When she started to look up, she had a professional look on her face. A _how may I_ _help you_ sort of look. But the moment she saw it was him, a flash of hurt crossed her face, and he felt it like a blow to the chest.\n\n\"Kate, can we talk?\" He went to her, and she backed up and turned around, picked up a stack of papers, and fixed her eyes on them.\n\n\"I'm really busy right now.\"\n\n\"Look. I know you're upset... \"\n\n\"Jackson.\" She tossed the papers down—they were just for show anyway—and looked at him. \"I can't do this right now. I'm working. I need to work. I'd like you to leave.\"\n\nHe stepped back. \"Can we talk later?\"\n\n\"I don't really see the point,\" she said.\n\n\"You don't see the _point_? You don't see the fuckin'... ah, come on, Kate.\"\n\nKate called into the back room. \"Fury, would you cover the front for a bit? I have some things to do in the back.\"\n\nThe kid with the eyebrow piercings came out, and Kate went into the back room and snapped the door shut behind her.\n\nFury looked at Jackson with at least some sympathy. \"Dude, you fucked up,\" he said.\n\nJackson nodded. It was true. He had.\n\nHe turned around and walked out of the store.\n\nJackson's next stop was the wine shop. He'd known Rose for a few years now, had known her since before he'd gathered up the nerve to even talk to Kate. He would consider Rose a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance. Maybe she could get through to Kate for him.\n\nWhen he walked into the shop, Rose was pouring tasting portions for a trio of tourists seated at the bar. He took a seat a few stools down and waited. As she talked to her customers about the qualities and flavor notes of the wine she'd poured for them, she shot Jackson a look that was one part anger, one part pity.\n\n\"That stool is for customers,\" she said.\n\n\"What? Come on, Rose, I... \"\n\nShe pointed at his stool. \"Customers.\"\n\n\"Fine. I'll do the tasting. Five wines for ten dollars, right? And you'd goddamned well better give me my free souvenir wine glass.\"\n\nShe scowled at him, and the tourists down the bar looked at him curiously.\n\nJackson pointed to a chardonnay on the tasting list, and Rose splashed some into a glass and thrust it in front of him.\n\n\"Aren't you going to tell me about the oaky notes?\" he said.\n\n\"Bite me,\" Rose said.\n\nThe tourists started to back timidly away from the bar, and Rose called them back. \"I'm sorry,\" she told the grey-haired guy, probably in his sixties, and the two women of about the same age.\n\n\"See,\" Rose went on, \"this guy over there, he was dating one of my best friends. Then, when he had her seeing babies and puppies and white picket fences, he went off to interview for a job in San Francisco. Without telling her. She had to find out through the grapevine.\" She looked at the wine bottle in her hand. \"So to speak.\"\n\nThe tourists looked at Jackson with judgment in their eyes. One of the women muttered something and shook her head.\n\n\"She was seeing babies?\" Jackson said. \"And... what's this about the puppies?\"\n\n\"She's in love with you, you shithead,\" Rose said. She splashed wine into the tourists' glasses with some force.\n\n\"It sounds like you really hurt her,\" one of the women at the bar said.\n\n\"I... ah, shit. I didn't mean to.\"\n\n\"Uh huh,\" Rose said. \"You meant to run like hell. Like you usually do. And you thought that wouldn't hurt her?\"\n\nJackson ran a hand through his hair. \"Rose, Jesus. I... Can you get her to talk to me? Just talk? She won't even answer my calls.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"What? Why not?\"\n\n\"Because it'll hurt her friend even more to hear you try to justify yourself,\" one of the women at the bar said.\n\nRose pointed a finger at her. \"Bingo. Here. Have some extra pinot.\" She poured more wine into the woman's glass. The woman looked pleased.\n\n\"I just want to talk to her.\"\n\nRose turned to him. \"And say what? What are you planning to do? Are you staying or going?\"\n\nHe didn't answer. He honestly didn't know.\n\n\"Right.\" Rose turned away from him and back toward the tourists. \"Until you know, there's no point in talking.\"\n\nJackson put a ten dollar bill on the bar and started to slink away.\n\n\"You forgot your goddamned souvenir glass!\" Rose called after him. \"Asshole.\"\n\n# 24\n\nJackson needed time to think. But with his schedule, there was no time. He was due back at Neptune that afternoon, and they were closing the restaurant to host a private wedding reception. He likely wouldn't have time to tie his shoes, let alone ponder his future.\n\nMaybe that was good. Maybe that was what he needed—to immerse himself in work. He went home, showered, and went downstairs to start his shift. He put on his chef's coat and tied his apron. The dining room was already decorated and set up for the reception, which would start in a couple of hours. He reviewed the menu. A baby field greens salad with goat cheese and candied walnuts. An appetizer of seared scallops, or a vegetarian option of stuffed mushrooms. A choice of three entrees: salmon with wild rice, beef tenderloin with garlic mashed potatoes, or a vegan risotto. And, of course, the cake, which was being brought in from the bakery on the corner of Main and Burton.\n\nIt was all pretty basic, and Jackson found himself wishing for a culinary challenge to keep his mind busy. Was this what the happy couple really wanted to launch their lives together? Salmon? Beef goddamned tenderloin? If they didn't have any more imagination than that, how the hell did they expect to keep a marriage going?\n\nHe started banging his way around the kitchen, into and out of the walk-in refrigerator, slamming doors, scowling. He looked over the shoulders of two prep chefs and yelled at them for their uneven carrot julienne.\n\nGoddamned amateurs.\n\nHe tasted the salad dressing, and it had too much goddamned vinegar. \"What the hell did I tell you about the vinegar?\" he said to the prep chef mixing the dressing. \"Jesus. Get on your fucking game!\"\n\nJose, who was preparing the marinade for the scallops at a counter about a foot to Jackson's right, looked up.\n\n\"You know, she probably just needs time. Let her cool down, then try talking to her.\"\n\nDid _everybody_ know about his troubles with Kate?\n\n\"What the hell are you talking about? How the hell do you know about my relationship problems?\"\n\nJose raised his eyebrows. \"Small town, chef. You know how it is.\"\n\nAnd so did everyone else, apparently.\n\nJackson sighed. \"I don't know. I don't think it's gonna be that easy.\"\n\nJose looked at him. \"I didn't say it was gonna be easy. I said let her cool down, and then talk to her.\" He shook his head. \"Truth is, you're probably fucked.\"\n\n\"Yeah, thanks, Jose. That's really helpful.\"\n\nThe rest of the evening, Jackson did some of the worst cooking of his career. He burned some of the fillets. He undercooked at least a few scallops. The risotto crunched. Risotto wasn't supposed to crunch.\n\nRemarkably, though, he didn't hear any complaints from the dining room. Usually, the bridezilla—or the bridezilla's mother—was the first to bitch about every little thing, whether there was truly something wrong with the food or not. But tonight, he heard nothing except laughter, music, and happy conversation from outside the kitchen door.\n\nHe took a peek out there once the dinner rush was done, and saw the young bride in a white, silky, A-line dress dancing with her groom, a fairly geeky-looking guy in his twenties, who nevertheless looked like he couldn't believe his luck in landing this beauty, this goddess, this vision of contentment and joy.\n\nJackson felt a squeezing sensation in his chest and wondered if maybe he was having a heart attack. A Kate attack, more likely.\n\nGavin came over to stand by Jackson.\n\n\"Happy couple,\" Gavin said. \"Sometimes they aren't. Sometimes you can just see the tension under everything, and you know they're not going to last. But these two... who knows? Looks like they've got a shot.\"\n\nJackson couldn't breathe; he couldn't think.\n\n\"You okay?\" Gavin asked him.\n\n\"No, man. I'm... no.\"\n\n\"We're about done here. Just the cleanup. You want to head upstairs? We can do the rest without you.\"\n\n\"You sure?\" Jackson asked.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Hey, Gavin.\"\n\nGavin looked at him. \"Hmm?\"\n\n\"You probably heard about where I was. Everybody else did. I just wanted to tell you... \"\n\n\"Don't worry about it.\" Gavin put a hand on Jackson's shoulder. \"You'll do what you've gotta do. I don't know if I could say no to a chance like that. I can find another chef if I have to. I won't like it, but I can do it.\"\n\n\"Thanks, man.\"\n\n\"Sure. Now get out of here. You look like shit, and you've already terrorized the staff enough for one night.\"\n\n\"Yeah. I gotta go. I've gotta make a phone call.\"\n\nHe went up to his apartment and made the call.\n\nHe showed up at Kate's house late—after ten p.m. He'd tried to call again, but it had gone to voice mail. He could see that there was a light on in the living room, so he was sure she had to be awake.\n\nHe knocked on the door and waited, his hands shaking.\n\nShe opened it a crack, saw that it was him, and started to close it again.\n\n\"Kate. Don't close the door. Wait. Let me in.\" He put a hand into the doorway to stop her from closing it, and she shut the door on it. \"Ouch! Shit!\" He quickly withdrew the hand, and she closed the door. He heard the dead bolt slide into place.\n\n\"Goddamn it, Kate,\" he yelled through the door. \"Let me in! I want to talk to you!\"\n\n\"I don't want to talk to you!\" she yelled back.\n\nHe thought about what to do. They hadn't been together long enough for him to have a key. He could shout to her through the door. He could slide a note through the door frame. He could hire someone to dress like a monkey and do a singing telegram.\n\nHe walked down the stairs at the side of the house and onto the lawn that stretched out under the deck. \"Kate!\" he yelled up toward the sliding glass door that led to her living room. The living room light turned off—an unmistakable signal to him that it was time to shut up and leave.\n\nBut he wasn't going to give up that easily.\n\nHe looked around, picked up some pebbles from the ground, and started throwing them, one at a time, at her sliding glass door.\n\n_Ping!_\n\n_Ping!_\n\nThe door slid open slightly and Kate yelled out, \"What are you doing? Stop throwing rocks at my window!\"\n\nThe door slammed shut again.\n\nRight in front of him, one floor below Kate's deck, was another sliding glass door, this one leading into Gen's apartment. The light inside had been off when he'd arrived, but now it came on. Inside, a curtain moved aside and Gen's face peered out through the window. Her door slid open.\n\n\"Jackson? What are you doing?\"\n\n\"I need to talk to Kate.\"\n\n\"Aw, Jackson, I don't... \"\n\n\"Just hear me out,\" he said.\n\nShe let him inside, and they talked. When he was done, she went to her kitchen drawer, found the key that opened Kate's front door, and handed it to him.\n\n\"Don't screw this up,\" she said.\n\n\"I won't,\" he answered.\n\nWhen Kate heard the front door unlocking and opening, she called out, \"Gen. Hey, is Jackson gone yet? I... \" And then she looked up from where she sat in the darkness, and saw him.\n\nShe felt everything, all at once. Tenderness, excitement, pain.\n\n\"How did you get in?\" she said.\n\nHe held up Gen's key.\n\n_Traitor._ She was going to have words with Gen later. Or she might have to drown her in the bathtub.\n\n\"You shouldn't have come. You need to go.\" She stood and started walking toward the door, which she intended to hold open for him.\n\nAs she passed, he took hold of her arm and turned her toward him. \"Please. Just let me talk to you. I shouldn't have gone up there for the interview without telling you. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do.\"\n\nShe pulled her arm out of his grasp. \"You didn't know what to _do_? It's fairly simple, Jackson. You should have just said, 'Kate, this has been fun, but now I'm ready to move on.' You should have _said_ that, Jackson, instead of letting me hear it from someone else.\"\n\n\"But that's not the truth.\"\n\n\"Which part? The part where it's been fun, or the part where you're ready to move on?\"\n\nHe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. \"Both. Both parts. It hasn't been fun. It's been... Kate, it's been _everything._ Everything good. Everything I was missing before. Everything I want, but didn't know I wanted. And I _don't_ want to move on.\"\n\nAs what he had said began to sink in, hummingbirds fluttered just beneath her breastbone. \"You don't?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"But what about the job? You don't want this to end—us—but if you're going to be in San Francisco... \"\n\n\"I turned it down.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"Tonight. I called the guy and said no. Right before I came over here.\"\n\n\"Wait.\" She went to the sofa and sat down, hard. \"You turned it down because of me?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah. Or, partly because of you. Mostly because of you.\"\n\nShe held up both hands, palms out, trying to hold off this flood of feelings, of questions.\n\n\"But, Jackson. I can't be the reason you said no. I can't be the reason you turned down the opportunity of a lifetime. What if we don't work? What if we don't last? You're going to resent me, because you could have had this great job... \"\n\n\"We'll work,\" he said, sitting down beside her. \"We'll last.\"\n\n\"How do you know?\"\n\n\"Because that job wasn't the opportunity of a lifetime. _You_ are.\"\n\nShe turned on the lamp on the side table and looked at him. What she saw in his face made her soft inside, made her feel unbearably fragile and raw. He was everything, too. Her everything.\n\n\"Please forgive me,\" he said.\n\n\"You can't run,\" she told him. \"If it gets hard or you get scared. You can't just quit.\"\n\n\"I know. I won't.\" He reached out and touched her face.\n\n\"You have to trust me,\" she said.\n\n\"I do. I will.\"\n\nHe kissed her, and for Kate, it didn't feel difficult or emotionally painful or conflicting. It felt right. It felt like an irresistible force. And most of all, it felt like home.\n\nThe next day, when Kate showed up to open the shop, Jane Austen was waiting at the front door, scratching at the glass and meowing.\n\n\"Jane Austen!\" Kate scooped her up and cuddled the cat into her arms. Jane Austen was purring the purr of the contented.\n\nJane Austen knew where she belonged, apparently.\n\nSo did Jackson.\n\nKate carried Jane Austen inside and went to find some kibble.\n\n**Read more about Kate and Jackson in the free short story \"Jacks Are Wild,\" available only to my newsletter subscribers.Get your copy here.**\n\n# Read more of the Main Street Merchants series\n\nCambria Sky\n\n* * *\n\nNearly Wild\n\n* * *\n\nFire and Glass\n\n# Read the Delaneys of Cambria series\n\nA Long, Cool Rain\n\n* * *\n\nThe Promise of Lightning\n\n* * *\n\nLoving the Storm\n\n* * *\n\nSearching for Sunshine\n\n# Read the Russo Sisters series\n\nSaving Sofia\n\n* * *\n\nFirst Crush\n\n# Acknowledgments\n\nWriting a novel is never easy, for the author or for the people in that author's life. First and foremost, I would like to thank my husband, John, for his enthusiasm, for his belief in my ability to do this, and for his patience. Date nights spent hashing out the ups and downs of Kate and Jackson's love life might not have been what he had in mind, but he indulged me without fail. He also did more than his share to keep the household running while I was lost in the world of Neptune and Swept Away.\n\nI would like to thank Gaetane Burkolter for volunteering to be my first reader. I greatly appreciate her generosity, her comments, and her encouragement.\n\nThank you to the Writer Unboxed community. They were always there to answer my questions, offer suggestions, and cheer my accomplishments. While the Writer Unboxed Un-Conference of 2014 wasn't directly involved in the production of this book, I think it's fair to say the novel would not exist without it. That wonderful, warm, giving group of writers gave me the inspiration I needed to keep writing at a time when I had almost given up.\n\nI'd like to thank Cambria, California, for providing the setting for this book and for those to come in the Main Street Merchants series. I can't think of a prettier place to have a romance.\n\nFinally, I'd like to thank my readers. In the words of John Cheever, \"I can't write without a reader. It's precisely like a kiss—you can't do it alone.\"\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nVictoria the Voice\n\nHigh Council Files\n\nEdenia Series\n\nBy Beth Hoyer\n\nCopyright Smashwords 2020\n\nThis is the diary entries of one Victoria Montreal Thunder original copy born of a tube through a female carrying a baby that grew up to be Victoria herself paired to High Council's servant Tom Mindbender Thunder himself. This is the recordings of Victoria's as recorded by her typing onto the computer her laptop her diary entries as ordered by the High Council's recorder of memories.\n\n\"You to sort your books!\" this command emailed to me from Morena Morgan my friend who's stuck close to me like glue.\n\nI emailed her in response \"I don't have anything to do besides collecting books.\"\n\nMorena emailed \"Just find ten to give up.\"\n\nI wasn't in the mood even with an attack of paranoia at the time.\n\nSchizophrenia reared its' ugly head chanting \"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?!\"\n\nThis triggered my paranoia involving not being in private to go off bothering me as a result. Yuck. I didn't feel like sorting my books anyway. I just didn't. I wound up suffering from a voiced attack starting around three o'clock involving the bathroom number two. I was talking to Morena at the time when the attack started.\n\nMorena said \"I urged you to sort books.\" but I wasn't in the mood from the voice's talk and paranoia aggravated.\n\nYuck. I never told Morena that I was sick with a voice attack at the time I talked to her. Instead in the morning I told her by email of that sickness. I'm just waiting for her response. Ugh. Also I saw Dellen's show then around four o'clock I got creepy out by the voice's blaring went to the computer to type till five o'clock is when I went to go take my pills and eat some food. Ugh again. I made a mess onto my clothes involving the food the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I ate.\n\nI spilled jelly onto the areas of my thighs. \"Yucky! Ugh this sucks.\"\n\nAlso mom text emailed me \"you to call me at seven o'clock.\" which I was creepy out on having to do that while sick with the voiced attack.\n\nI called mom at seven o'clock as asked by her \"I'm sick tonight with me sick with a voiced attack involving the bathroom and voice bothering me.\"\n\nMom said \"I understand love you lots.\" hung up the call and left me to the computer.\n\nI wound up watching TV around nine o'clock till close to ten o'clock pill time is when my paranoia got aggravated so I went to the computer. I was able to go take my pill then attend to my teeth but I didn't wash my water bottle which I could have done that chore. Ugh terrible big time. Also I think around midnight is when the bathroom's attack involving voice quit but I kept on editing one story till my noisy head involving tiredness got too loud for me to concentrate. I went to bed even with that inner noises' blaring. Yuck. Sleep with REM sleep was a long time coming for me. I was sleeping with the voice going off but paranoia not aggravated hence I able to sleep. I slept somewhat poorly with wake ups for bathroom multiple times till around six thirty is when I got up given up on sleep as a result. Baby cute kitten didn't visit me till six thirty is when she visited me. I tried to get her to tummy sit onto my front but she refused and walked off. Aw poor cute baby kitten poor me.\n\nAlso I emailed Morena \"I give my regrets involving sorting books. I was sick with a voiced attack at the time.\"\n\nI'm not sure of when she'll respond to my email. She's been keeping odd hours involving bedtime and sleeping in the morning. Morena is weird sometimes. Oh well.\n\nI emailed Jolica Joliet a teacher from high school who emailed me out of a blue \"You want to talk to me? Kindly email me mews if inclined out of needing someone to talk to.\"\n\nJolica is a teacher from high school that gave me detention I'm still not forgiven her for that detention but she's used cats' pictures with her emails to make me respond.\n\nI wound up emailing her as a result saying \"Hi Jolica hopes your day is good one.\"\n\nJolica said \"My day is sort of boring being in a grocery store as an employee than a teacher.\"\n\nI'm not sure of how Jolica wound up not teaching at the high school and working at a grocery store for a major chain dubbed \"Americaversal\" by the name.\n\nI tried to ask her once \"How did you wound up working at that grocery store than teaching?\"\n\n\"Drop the subject and don't ask again!\" she said in response which I wound up asking Merra in response \"What's going on with Jolica Joliet changing jobs?\"\n\nMerra claimed \"You getting detention from her are why she was fired from her job by people sympathizing with you on that matter. Hence she's doesn't want to be reminded she made a mistake giving you detention and paid for it.\"\n\nI didn't say anything in response to that talk instead got told by Merra \"Just keep communications with Jolica herself out of the High Council insisted out of curiosity that there's such thing as forgiveness. This forgiveness talk is something the High Council is trying to learn and cope with.\"\n\nI obeyed which I emailed Jolica of my day then after that I meant to email other people but I wasn't in the mood to bother. Ugh.\n\nJolica responded with her email that was short and not filled with much to quote home with \"Sounds like a nice day.\"\n\nJolica is hardly talkative with her emails' contents despite I'm very wordy. Morena responded to my email which I was in a chat with her till eleven o'clock is when we both quit. I wound up eating a somewhat sub par lunch that was just finger foods than anything decent. Ugh I had cup candy which I piglet the remainder of the bowl. After that I had some cheese which I'm out of bread at the moment. I do have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches but I'm saving them for dinner than eating them for lunch. I had a nutria grain bar of apple pie or some apple flavor into it. This was tasty stuff I guess. Oh well. I wound up emailing Morena who replied soon after that which I was in a chat with her. I'm still chatting but she's sluggish with her responses. Morena is taking forever to read my email and respond with her messages. Morena sucks big time with that behavior which annoys me. Ugh again.\n\nAlso I ordered a Columbia girl doll called \"Bristol Berlin\" as named which is nice.\n\nI thought that doll would make a nice addition to my dolls' collection. Anyway that doll is a girl of the year doll involving baking or cooking or something I think. I'm not sure of which is which. Oh well. That doll Bristol reminds me of an actress with her facial appearance including her red hair and green eyes. This seems nice I guess with that reminder enough to buy a copy to order. Doll reminds me of actress Charisma Chic with the facial appearance and red hair with the green eyes. I have no idea what to make of that. Ugh here's to hoping I'll have enough money to pay for the remainder of my bills like cable and electricity.\n\nSchizophrenic voice has been saying \"The cable bill would be in the two hundred and seventeen's range.\"\n\nUgh I hope not anyway. I received my monthly paycheck today which totaled into the six hundred dollar range. I'm not entirely sure of the monthly paycheck's increase. Oh I used to get five hundred and eighty five dollars or around that amount but now I'm getting six hundred dollars a month. Seems nice I guess except that cuts my benefits down a bit. Ugh. Anyway I paid my cell phone bill which was almost one hundred dollars. The bill was mostly a few cents off the one hundred dollar mark. Ugh terrible big time to get a brand new cell phone and have to pay outrageous fees for it. Yuck. I wound up downloading stories from Smash-words' website to be saved onto computer out of needing something to do. I meant to get around to reading those stories than collecting them for downloading. Ugh sucks. Also wound up into a chat with Morena who balked replying a minute after I replied to her email message. Morena sucks big time with her cuts offs emails involving talking to me. Ugh really Morena! I was thinking of plagiarizing someone's work as in taking someone's idea to change it into an Edenia series' story or something to amuse myself with. I doubt that I would do that shitty idea.\n\nThe voice says \"Bad idea, not nice!\"\n\nI have to agree with the voice's talk on that idea of mine.\n\nMorena after a lengthy pause ended chat with her saying \"I'm going to clean the fridge\" which she added \"Ciao for now.\"\n\nUgh. Morena sucks with her chatty mood not turning out to be chatty like I hoped she would be talkative. Ugh again. Anyway I had a story involving my own work involving wolves or people who could change into wolves I used part of that story to change into another story involving an alien from moon machinery like planet arriving to planet earth and learning various abilities while there. Ugh. This idea was my own plagiarizing my own story idea into another story idea for another character. I keep doing that plagiarizing of my work over and over. I think this is why my work won't sell online Smash-words' website because the reader knows I'm known for this plagiarizing of my work over and over. Ugh this is the pits. I received my cable bill in the mail which was paid electronically. Oh Yay for that payment. Ooh goody except the bill was like last month's bill one hundred and seventy seven dollars with some change in the late twenties. Ugh terrible. I've still got money left to pay for my electricity bill including other frivolous stuff that won't be a Columbia girl doll since I already bought one. Ugh. I can't afford two Columbia girl dolls as payment. I have to save money for cutesy cat's vet needs including my own personal needs. This stinks when I want to buy another Columbia girl doll but I don't have the money to bother. Ugh this is terrible big time. Ugh I and my big mouth got me in trouble with mom who's known as Bea Beatrice Bee as publicity known while also known as my mother raiser on the phone.\n\nI admitted to mom \"I paid for a Columbia girl doll.\" which she said \"Really Victoria!\" Mom scolded me for buying that doll.\n\nMom said \"I think you should have saved my money for paying off dad instead of buying a doll. I thought you should have saved your money for cat's vet bill appointments than spending money on frivolous stuff like a Columbia girl doll.\"\n\nJeez Louise now she tells me this talk and scolds me.\n\nMom rudely hung up our call around seven o'clock after telling me \"You to go call me back at eight o'clock after checking online for the Columbia girl doll's purchase order and cancel it.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nI might have to lie to mom by phone at eight o'clock \"The doll's purchase order was cancelled.\"\n\nI might have to tell mom what she wants to hear and not anything else involving this purchase order. Ugh sucks. I do hope that mom buys my explanation that I cancelled the doll's order and got part of my money back. Ugh. I don't aim to return that doll once I get it in the mail next week. I aimed to hide that doll into the closet and leave it there like one doll I bought off Columbia girl's website I hid into the closet. This lying sucks big time when I have to do that to mom and see what else I can do involving getting myself onto mom's good graces. Ugh hate lying but I'll tell her what she wants to hear and hope she'll buy my explanation. Ugh terrible.\n\n\"I lied to mom\" Chanted voice after I got off the phone with mom around eight thirty.\n\nI wound up phoning mom around eight o'clock and lied to her when I said \"I did canceled the Columbia girl doll's purchase order.\"\n\nUgh I haven't really cancelled that order instead just let the purchase go through. I'm still determined to have that damn doll around my home for displaying or maybe awhile after I paid dad off that vet bill's debt. Ugh can't wait anyway.\n\nMom whined by phone \"You should have waited till June to bother to buy that doll now. That doll was a girl of the year doll I thought would go on sale in June or later this year.\"\n\nUgh jeez mom for this talks anyway. Oh well ended phone call lying to mom but I don't know if she's got the Source abilities involving detecting a lie like I can occasionally detect lies said to me.\n\nI can tell whenever someone said a lie to me by the voice saying \"Liar!\" into my mind in a female voice sounding like my own thought but not the schizophrenic voice.\n\nI'm told by Tank \"Natasha your mother who birth you had schizophrenic voiced problems something that fascinated the High Council back then to think that voiced problem involving mind walking including hearing other people's thoughts. This thinking turned out to be a chemical imbalance problem in the brain of humans that were declared schizophrenic and not mind walker abilities. This problem is still fascinating to the High Council who suspects mind walker abilities manifesting into schizophrenic individuals who are hearing other people's thoughts besides their own thoughts. This is just a brain problem of individuals whose brain organs have the wrong chemistry that makes them hear voices something the High Council is still interested into.\"\n\nI wound up further hearing Tank laughing cutting the talk like the big three Meritanians Ramses the talker while his sisters Erra and Terra don't talk much did something joker with their mind walking manifestation power abilities. Ugh I also heard Merra who accompanied Tank snickering into my mind too like she's always cued to my mind to hear her all over the place.\n\nUgh I never get a break from her noises despite thinking \"I'm getting a break.\"\n\nI don't get a break as thought only to hear Merra say \"Sticky Vicky you should type this down!\"\n\nFor the records I hate the joker name of \"Sticky Vicky\" shared with Nikolas Thunder himself who hates the name of \"Sticky Nicky\" as blared by Meritanians onto him while their telling jokes. Nikolas Thunder is a hybrid humanoid of a vampire but he can travel during the daylight and not burn up like some vampire species seemed to have problems with the sun. Nikolas got his name from being a cloned copy of Nikolai with my Tom's characteristics as his body but his own facial appearance.\n\nThe High Council according to Tom \"They claim to Nikolas that they created him and used me to create a vampire clone of me that they dub Nikolas Thunder. This is just a lie said to him out of that he came from Humania an obsessed planetary world the High Council is obsessed with and wanted Humanian natives into services of the group. I'm not sure of what the obsession of the High Council towards planet Humania other than they referred the world as home. I figured that Humania must be where the High Council originally originated hence they seemed obsessed with returning to the planetary world.\"\n\nTom cut the talk and wound up walking into my bathroom into my two room apartment I was staying like a rude person without me questioning him further. I did sense a light show come from the bathroom and went to type his talk onto computer or laptop computer. I wound up urged to hit the toilet which I discovered the toilet appearing to be used by a male to my disgust I figured Tom did that either using it or the High Council roped him into doing that joke.\n\nI did sense myself filmed while in the bathroom by voice saying into my mind in familiar female voice \"Your filmed!\"\n\nI'm disgusted that the High Council has the bathroom recorded for Tom's going and arrival. Ugh hence I kept getting that filming talk into my mind. Yuck.\n\nI crashed around nine forty five with a bit of voice going including paranoia going off a bit \"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?!\"\n\nUgh I slept fine anyway with some wakeups for bathroom despite the filming sensed into there with the familiar voice saying \"You're filmed!\"\n\nAlso I wound up tummy sat by the baby cute kitten that came and visited me then tummy sat me lying in bed. Aw she's so cute when tummy sitting. I love that little shithouse fur ball galore. She's a cute little stinker even when's she stinks up the cat's bathroom that was into my bathroom.\n\nI put her kitty litter box I nickname \"Dumperium\" into my bathroom despite Tom kept stepping into it whenever he appeared into light shows of Meritanians' transportation.\n\nTom kept whining to me \"The Meritanians keep transporting me into that damn box like it's a signed arrival place despite I kept finding me into it. I hate that the cat's litter box is still insisted to be left into the bathroom by the Meritanians who need a place to concentrate onto whenever they transport me to there Argh!\"\n\nAnyway I phoned mom twice this morning.\n\nAt first she ignored me so I left a message saying \"Hi its Victoria hopefully text email me mews phone wise. Let me know what's planned for today.\"\n\nMom has today off from her grocery store job something that seemed popularity done among natives in the state of Long River Place which is to work into a grocery store.\n\nThe second call mom picked up to whine \"I'm cleaning my bathroom floor. I would come up to see you once I'm done with that chore.\"\n\nI hope she does come up to see me. Ugh.\n\nMom went to visit Auntie Berliner's apartment as said by her sister or cloned copy on the phone who kept call short as two minutes \"I'm driving and can't be on the cell phone.\"\n\nAuntie Berliner is named Berry Beatrice Bee but she hates the nickname of Barry associated with her name of Berry hence she's said \"Just call me Auntie Berliner.\"\n\nUgh also driving while on the cell phone is not a good habit hence I agreed to hang up the phone and wound up waiting for mom's arrival.\n\nI called town library \"I'm calling to ask for Verona Vander's seven series book 'Seven times bangers'.\"\n\nThat book was a movie's script book out now. Nice I guess.\n\n\"We don't have that book but we'll inter library loan that book from another library.\" as said by librarian which I said \"Okay that's fine with me.\"\n\nI hung up after Librarian asked me \"Anything else I can help you with?\"\n\nI said \"No thanks!\" and hung up.\n\nI'm glad that the library is inters librarian loan Seven times bangers which is good I guess. Oh well. Mom arrived into my apartment which she gave me some stuff like two books. One book turned out to be useless because mom ripped out some stuff from it so I doubt I would be reading that thing very much. Ugh again. Anyway today was mom's little Lancemas the feast of the three sisters. Mom already gave me her little Lancemas' gift earlier which I gave her a free lunch at Dublin Donuts using my gift card.\n\nMom at Dublin Donuts wound up saying \"I'm insisting onto my choice of food menu to eat for our meals but you can pick your own drink.\" which was strawberry milk.\n\nTasty stuff but I think I didn't care for the food which was taco wrapping cheese and egg together. Ugh no wonder I was sick in the toilet soon after eating that food. After eating was library where I remembered I had two library books at home waiting for me to read. Both books aren't due till the twenty third this month. Oh Yay me for being halfway through one of those books. Ugh after library was to Torrington as the town is referred as Torrin's Ville by the High Council to a store for crafts called Shy Shanna's. Shy Shanna's is the name of the craft store despite unsure of where the name came from. The store is where mom and I took a look through that store. I found beads on sale but I didn't buy anything.\n\n\"I considered buying pins for you using my gift card.\" I told Mom.\n\nMom handled the pins and said \"Their too heavy for me to wear. So save your money don't buy anything for me.\"\n\nUgh no wonder the cloned ladies who work in the store were glad to see mom and I leave by relief expressions seen on their faces when we both left through the exit. Ugh I swear our browsing for handling items was causing the store clerks to become uncomfortable out of we both not buying anything. After we went to Shy Shanna's was Stephanie's an office like store where I took a look through that store for spiral bound notebooks. I didn't find what I wanted but I found two notebooks to use as journals which were on sale.\n\n\"Do you want a bag for them?\" The sales clerk wrote down his request by post it pad note instead of talking to me.\n\nI guess mom must have told him when I wasn't looking \"You to write down your request.\" which he did.\n\nNice of mom to tell him that but I don't know if mom told or he figured out himself.\n\nOh well I confess that mom habitually tells people \"You to write down what your saying to me and my daughter.\"\n\nMom has a slight deafness hearing problem involving hearing hence she's insisting on these written notices towards people. She's still treats me like I can't hear at the time which I can hear. Problem is I have a little trouble telling the difference from what I'm hearing by ears and what I'm hearing by my mind as in Meritanians' snickering jokes including schizophrenic voice. I figured that writing down requests is a good way to figure out what the person wants from me hence mom's insisting. Anyway the two notebooks and stickers I bought were on sale for a nice discount. Cute I guess. I aimed to use them for journaling or maybe sticking notes from people into them for saving for later uses. After Stephanie's I think we went to grocery shop for food which I bought around twenty nine dollars worth of food from my credit card set aside for buying food with. Oh Yay me.\n\nMom got me home \"I noticed you looked sad and upset about something.\" as said to me.\n\nI whined to her \"I think the cancellation notice of the purchased doll didn't go through. I think the Columbia girl company was still sending the doll.\"\n\nShe took the news fine but scolded me \"You shouldn't be buying that doll when you should have paid off your debt to dad.\"\n\nUgh dad is Rob Marina as that cloned Lance Richard copy aka known as Jinks Montreal that currently lives in the same town as me but into a house down the road from my apartment.\n\nAlso mom insisted \"You to see my ex-husband as your father.\"\n\nThey used to be paired together into marriage to raise me but since I'm a legal adult their no longer paired together and still on cordial terms using me as an excuse to get along. I'm not privy to the details of their separation but they refused to talk about the divorce as marriages' breakups as referred to as called. I suspect their still legally married but their not together in the same residences. Oh well.\n\nI tried to ask Merra once \"Why my mother and father raisers still legally married despite living separated?\"\n\nMerra in response gave up laughter and dumped me into the town of Win Ville's Lake Highlander Lake as referred by the High Council instead of answering my question. I wound up dumped back into my apartment onto my bed spilling water everywhere. Ugh my bed required bed stuff changed for fresh clean ones. Also my residence cat I dubbed Samantha Black was no where to be seen which I figured the transportation scared her hence she's hiding.\n\nI figured right then that the Meritanians were ordered \"you to dump Victoria into Highlander Lake if she asks an inappropriate question.\"\n\nI also figured that the subject of mom and father raiser's marriage was not to be said or answered by the Meritanians who would dump the asker into the nearest body of water like a joke.\n\nUgh Mom cut her visit short in response to my talk of that doll she saying \"I'm still furious with you to ordering that doll you can't return. I insist that you to call me at seven o'clock tonight.\"\n\n\"I will as you want mom.\" I said which she left slamming the door to the apartment including I felt the vibrations of the stairwell door downstairs bang shut.\n\nUgh a neighbor had to ring my doorbell flasher put there by Mom who said \"You can't seem to tell the difference from the noise of your head and your ears so use that thing.\"\n\nThe doorbell flasher went off an hour later which I found a neighbor Matilda Marie as she's referred to handing me a note she thinking \"Your deaf and can't hear me.\" as said by Merra mind scanning at the time.\n\nThe neighbor after handing me the note bid me bye and left.\n\nI read the note which said \"Please refrain from door slamming! Neighbors are sensitive to the noises!\"\n\nI figured I'll tell mom by phone not to door slam the door next time which once the time was six thirty she text emailed me to phone her.\n\n\"Call mom!\" she said by message around six thirty.\n\nUgh I was on the phone a deaf typewriter like phone with mom for over an hour till fifteen minutes to eight o'clock is when mom whined \"I want to get off the phone and go read a book.\"\n\nShe's a big reader of books despite I find that reading sometimes helps me forget the inner noises' blaring voices. I got the phone and didn't do much besides reading \"Seven Fold\" by Verona Vander with the TV on blaring. \"Seven Fold\" by Verona Vander is a part of her seven book series of seven books. Seven Fold is a sequel to the movie \"Seven Daughters\" involving a baby girl with a mark onto her arm. The baby girl is prophesied to grow up to destroy an evil witch queen to death. Something cute I guess. Anyway I read \"Seven Fold\" till ten fifteen is when my noisy head involving tiredness got too noisy for me.\n\n\"Are you forgetting something forgetting some!\" chanted the voice getting very loud that I couldn't read my book anymore.\n\nI quit for bed taking that book with me to my bedroom in hopes of reading more of it if I couldn't sleep. I slept fine as a result. Saturday or referred as Cat's Day was a gloomy day filled with rain and cloudiness that depressed me. I didn't go out at all as a result. Also my cutesy cat hid galore while I was at home watching junk on the Home and Garden Channel I favored involving a favored show involving the actress Charisma Chic marathoning till three o'clock is when they went to show something else involving twins dubbed Chip and Dip odd names. I think cute baby kitten was hiding in response to the stormy weather outside. She's scared brainless of those rainstorms. Poor baby cute kitten aw.  \nCat's Day was a fiasco with the voice chanting on and off all damn day which annoyed me \"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?!\"\n\nThe voice's chanting had cutie avoiding me and hiding from me in response to that noisy issue including the stormy weather. Yuck. I wound up during the afternoon heavily reading Anna Alina's vampire series The Bloody Diaries reading book two with interruptions of cute baby kitten coming to lap sit me twice. She resumed hiding as a result as I went to resume reading that damn book. I read like one hundred and fifty pages of the library book within two hours with a break to entertain the cutest cat sitting onto my lap. Aw cute.\n\n\"Call Mom\" as text emailed me around six thirty to phone her which I did.\n\nI was on the phone for around an hour or fifteen minutes till eight o'clock is when mom said \"I insisted on getting off the phone.\"\n\nMom whined to me by phone \"I missed my work shift because of issues in the toilet hence I unable to go to work.\"\n\nUgh a pity anyway.\n\nMom said \"I scolded myself.\" while on the phone that \"I could have gone to work and taken some medication for my upset stomach.\"\n\nA pity!\n\nAfter our phone call the TV showed that annoying show that always gets voice chanting results of that house contests' show saying \"Love it! List it!\"\n\nI saw that the show the TV was airing that night was reruns boring me to tears actually.\n\nThose reruns had me reading a book by Michelle Michael for over an hour. I think around eight forty five is when I recognized the nine o'clock episode was going to be a rerun I read Michael's book till a bit till ten fifteen or ten twenty is when I crashed. Ugh. I slept fine till morning from ten thirty to eight forty five in the morning. I did get visited by the cutest cat only once in the morning but soon after she visited me I woke up and got up and started my day. Aw cute of the baby cat to remind me to get up and get out of bed.\n\nSunday was just a day I spend staying home bored to tears including watching TV and entertaining the furry bundle of fur.\n\nI phoned mom and left a message onto her answering machine saying \"Hi its Victoria kindly text email me mews phone wise ASAP.\"\n\nMom had today off from work but her text emailed me \"I've gone to church.\"  \nShe didn't respond to my pleading message around ten thirty \"Mom I want a phone call so text email me!\" till noon is when she finally text emailed me \"Call mom!\"\n\nI was on the phone till around one o'clock is when mom whined \"I want to go take a nap. I'm tired from my sick day on Cat's Day.\"\n\nThis is a pity towards mom for being tired. Oh well poor Momsy. Anyway I wound up into a chat with Morena till two o'clock is when she rudely cut me off without a commentary of goodbye or anything. Morena sucks big time with her rude cuts offs involving online chat options. Ugh. Also I think I was lap sat by the cute baby kitten multiple times today. I think the cutie was trying to make up for not being social yesterday hence her lap sitting happy behavior today. Poor baby cute kitten poor me.\n\nLast night I read Verona Vander's book seven banger times for an hour till like nine thirty is when my noisy head got too noisy for me to concentrate onto that book. Ugh turned out to be number two in the toilet around that time hence I had to watch TV for thirty minutes till ten o'clock is when I crashed with the alarm clock attached to me. I set alarm clock for seven o'clock in the morning which woke me up fine. I didn't care to shower early as seven thirty. Yuck but I didn't care to take my pills early as eight o'clock with globs of chocolate spread to help my appetite when I walk around town. Also when I walked to the highway sidewalk I found my missing water bottle sitting on the sidewalk. I hauled grocery cart full of books yesterday to school which I gave to Morena then I hauled that empty thing carrying my water bottle to home. The water bottle fell out I found out when I got home hence I looking for that thing on the way to the doctor's office. Oh Yay for me for finding that thing. I instead of carrying that thing around town walked home and put that water bottle onto the window still in the stairwell and resumed walking to my doctor's office. The weather snowed a bit on the way but not much snow to cancel schools or plow roads or require booties. I wore my sneakers instead of booties. Oh well. Also I went to doctor's office with sore thighs. My thighs and legs whined in pain from three days of grocery cart hauling books to school. I think due to the snow I didn't haul grocery cart with me this time. Oh well again. I got to doctor's office fine but Stephanie Stephens the secretary had to write a note involving the doctor's lateness due to traffic.\n\n\"The doctor will be late arriving from traffic.\" She wrote.\n\nThe doctor arrived ten minutes pass the nine o'clock time for appointment and didn't see me till five minutes later. Ugh. Also last night read Verona Vander's book and wound up finding that book by e-reader downloaded fine including setting the e-book to where I was in that paper version. I didn't bother to read that e-book while I was out and about town or at the doctor's office or at school either. Ugh. I wound up at the doctor's charging e-reader because the battery was early ninety or around eighty nine percent so I charged that thing till doctor's appointment was over with is when I quit that charging. I found the charging made it to ninety seven percent than one hundred percent. Damn it.\n\nAfter the doctor's the voice picked onto me saying \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nI ignored and went to a small grocery store to take a look around. This visit was my first time to that grocery store but I didn't find anything worthy of buying like fruits or anything so I didn't buy anything. Oh well dumb me. I went to the bank and gave the teller forty bucks worth of coins and small bills together totaling forty dollars. I got forty dollars in twenties back. I figured I'll use one to pay dad the debt while I use the other for buying much needed restocking of stuff at home.\n\nI went to school to Morena's office which she told me \"I scold you for showing up at my office. I don't want you showing up at my office anymore because of people's nosiness noticing you visiting me. I was appearing to be socializing and not working hence I'm insisting you not show up anymore.\"\n\nUgh a pity hence she doesn't want me visiting her in her office. I went to the school library's computers to use for the internet's chat option which I pinged Morena.\n\nMorena pinged me back saying \"I'm fine with you chatting with me electronically but not in person in my office.\"\n\nOh well. I chatted with Morena electronically for an hour till eleven thirty or around that time I signed off and went to Dublin Donuts for buying lunch which was a bagel and cream cheese using a gift card. I went to the drug store to buy a candy bar using a gift card I was planning on eating in front of Morena but didn't bother doing that.\n\nMorena once we met for lunch in the café started whining \"The government shutdown affecting people's food stamp card's money. I want you to avoid buying junk and being frugal with the food stamp card's money including the same with you buying of junk too.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nMorena added \"I think the government shutdown would affect your food stamp card's money not being reloaded for next month.\"\n\nUgh terrible. After lunching with Morena I walked to drug store for pill refills which costs me eight bucks and fifty cents I had to use my own card to pay for because I couldn't find my gift card sitting into my wallet. Ugh sucks. I need to organize my damn wallet of its cards and stuff. This fact that I can't seem to find any cards involving gift cards in that thing is giving me trouble. Yuck. I had forty dollars but I opt not to spend that money instead I saved that money for dad to pay for cat debt bill including saving for the cutest cat's vet bills too. Ugh. After drug store I walked home and at home I was sick in the toilet with number two that got the voice going triggering my paranoia off. Yuck I was sick in the toilet twice with the voice and paranoia going off. I think around two thirty is when this paranoia's aggravation quit but the bathroom continued. I had that candy bar I shouldn't have bought from drug store.\n\nThis is something Morena said \"I've been whining to people to save their money for food and stuff and being frugal.\"\n\nUgh. Around three o'clock before Dellen's show I was doing business in the toilet which the voice didn't comment a word in response to that nerve always going off with number two. I'm surprised that the nerve for number two didn't trigger the voice to go off around that time. Ugh. I watched Dellen's show which she's funny as always. Cute show anyway. I saw almost an hour of local news till around five o'clock is when the mailman arrived with Bristol Berlin the Columbia girl doll I ordered which I couldn't cancel out the order. I instead of mailing back the box for money back threw the box out with a journal I finished the other day. As for the doll I took her out of the box and displayed her onto a bookcase. Oh well. I meant to tell mom by phone that I got a Columbia girl doll but mom threw an angry fit while on the phone when I told her I ordered one. I didn't bother to tell her that the doll as ordered came into the mail today. Oh sucks. Also around six o'clock after dinner I called mom and was on the phone for an hour till seven o'clock a new operator came onto the phone line that made mom hung up.\n\n\"Mom I requested a callback.\" which mom said \"Call at seven thirty for me to use the facilities.\" This was done.\n\nMom and I were on the phone for thirty minutes talking about books till mom said \"I insisted I wanted to hang up.\" which the operator a male rudely typed \"SK.\" symbol than let me say a word.\n\nI said my traditional message \"I love you lots Momsy Bobsy.\" without knowing if the operator was still connecting our call or not and then hung up.\n\nUgh damn the operator for their rudeness. I got into pajamas as a result then I emailed Jolica my damn day's outing stuff then I figured since I was chatty with my email to type a journaling entry into my journal.\n\n\"Ooh what Columbia girl doll did you get?\" This is Jolica's response to my lengthy email.\n\nShe didn't stick around for me to reply or not reply. I meant to reply to that email but I'm just not entirely sure if Jolica would read that email tonight if I reply. Oh well.\n\nI went to organizing my books and dolls and toys around my home. I put the already read books into bookcases into my bedroom then I put the clutter on the dining card table into the dresser next to the table. Oh Yay me. Also opened a window and aired out the dust stirred up in here for thirty minutes till I froze cold and shut that thing. I turned on the heat and went to eat food for lunch including sending people emails. Oh nice. I sent Morena and Jolica emails of my day organizing clutter around here then after that I didn't do much besides chasing the poor baby cute kitten for a kissing and hugging faced ritual. The baby cat balked and ran off out of my reach and out of my sight. Dumb me.\n\nI'm home sick waiting forever for word from mom for a phone call tonight. She didn't picking up the phone at six o'clock. Ugh hence I'm stuck home waiting for her to text email me mews ASAP. Mom didn't picking up the phone at seven o'clock when I ranged her up. Ugh this is really an annoying habit of mom to do towards me when's I'm sick with a voiced attack and don't need this phone call ignorance of mom's.\n\n\"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?!\" sang voice creeping me out.\n\nMom text emailed me around eight o'clock \"Call mom.\"\n\nI whined \"I'm working onto a story.\" as an excuse to get off the phone with her. Ugh jeez mom for falling for that trick like always. Ugh mom hung up as a result which I wound up onto the computer.\n\nSunday was a fiasco with me sick with the voice involving the nerve for number two. I think around six o'clock is when the paranoia got aggravated enough to bother me including mom's unwillingness to text email me ASAP. Ugh. Mom's texting lateness drove the voice to blare too much including scaring me too much too. Yuck once I was on the phone with mom around eight o'clock I whined to mom of working onto a story which she took that excuse fine then got off the phone. After that excuses of a phone call I wound up working onto a story till nine forty five is when the bathroom quit and voice quit attacking me. Ugh something I've eaten must have bothering me as a result. Ooh goody. Also I worked onto my story till like ten forty five is when I went to lie down which I didn't sleep very good. I think I was nervous involving the voice's blaring that I slept somewhat poorly till six forty five is when I woke up and wound up saving my work onto disk by computer. Ugh.\n\nLast night I wound up reading one hundred pages of an e-book till five o'clock dinnertime. I read seven fold book seven series. Oh Yay me. I did check out the paper version of Vander's book but I have yet to crack that open to read. Oh well this stinks big time to check out books I have already the e-book version. Ugh. How greedy of me to check out books I already have the e-book version of. Ugh again. Anyway I read that e-book till five o'clock is when my noisy head got too noisy for me. I had to go take my pills and go eat dinner which I did. I ate four slices of buttered toast and some blueberries. Ugh screw the fact that I had to eat with the voice going off. Also I noticed around the five o'clock hour I keep wounding up sick in the toilet with number two that triggers the voice to go off including ruining my appetite to eat anything decent like fruits and vegetables. Ugh.\n\nSometimes the voice comments \"You having the e-book version of a paper version book you shouldn't check out from the town library.\"\n\nLike Verona Vander's book seven banger times when I got commentary after I tried to check out the library's version. I already have the e-book version I'm not reading much of very good. Ugh.\n\nJolica when I asked her \"What do you think of Verona Vander's seven series?\" said \"I raves that Vander's seven series is very good and well written.\"\n\nI already downloaded the series onto e-reader on her advice \"You should get the books their very good.\"\n\nI'm trying to read more of that series but I'm just not keen or in the mood to bother. Ugh I just don't get it why's that series supposedly good according to Jolica which isn't attracting my eye to read the books entirely. Ugh. This is the same for Bristol Berlin the Columbia doll is named after who's an author who writes fiction works.\n\nJolica on my asking by email \"What do you think of Bristol Berlin the author despite there's a Columbia doll named after her?\" said \"I say some of Berlin's books are good like the apartment complex.\" which I could barely get into.\n\nUgh. I just don't get it why's Berlin's books are supposedly be good but I can't seem to make myself read more of her works or any of her books. Ugh sucks.\n\nI asked mom by phone \"Have you heard of this author Bristol Berlin?\"\n\nShe told me by operator interpreting \"I found her books are terrible like a journaling entry that's telling this and that than anything involving descriptive writing. I found one example of that journaling involving her titled book Her Royal Cuteness about cats.\"\n\nUgh I found that book Her Royal Cuteness rather good but heart breaking. I found the book okay enough to rate it a seven out of ten. Ugh too bad mom didn't care for that damn book. Oh well I ended phone conversation and didn't think of doing anything else till Merra's laughter was heard into my mind.\n\nMerra quit her laughter then said \"How about a tale involving dying one?\"\n\nI didn't comment a response for I figured she's always cued towards me to hear her for recording's sakes onto my laptop computer which I waited for her to say something. Instead she became quiet and I wound up typing onto computer a journaling entry out of Merra not saying anything. I emailed dad and Jolica a story a short story I out of needing something to do involving reading and typing. I did save an extra copy of that story to tell it in first person when I get around to that typing status. Ugh. Also baby cute kitten hung around in sight and wound up onto my lap but she got off fast and ran off. Ugh turns out she pooped number two into the cat's bathroom hence her friendly forgiveness behavior. Ugh poor cutie always pulls this friendly behavior onto me after she does number two into the cat's bathroom. Sometimes the voice chants whenever she's finished with number two in the cat's bathroom. Ugh a pity anyway that I have to put up with that damned noisy issue.\n\nAnyway I've managed to text email dad \"Check your email I emailed you an Edenia series short story.\"\n\nDad said in response \"I'm shoveling snow.\"  \nUgh. I did email Jolica that story but that was by regular email than chat's email. Ugh that story was too long for me to email her by Chat's email hence I went with regular email. Ugh.\n\nJolica responded to my lengthy email in Chat's email \"Stay safe and warm.\"\n\nOne time I typed a lengthy email involving my day which she responded with \"Sounds like a good day.\"\n\nI typed another lengthy day's contents email to her in Chat's email which she responded with her twin saying \"Sounds like a good day\" than anything else.\n\nJolica sometimes sucks when's she's not talkative with Chat's email emailing responses. This lack of talkative emails is the same with dad not talkative by texting him \"How was your day?\" which he responded with a short abrupt texting message \"Fine.\"\n\nUgh jeez daddy. Baby cute kitten has gone to hide somewhere at the moment. I'm not sure of where on Mars that baby cutie went to hide. Ugh I guess she's hiding underneath the damn couch again. Dumb cat dumb animal for hiding like that behavior than being social with me. Ugh can't the dumbbell be social than hiding from me?! Ugh what a dumb cat for her avoidance behavior and not being social like I expected her to be. Ugh.\n\nI went online Chat's email pinging Morena saying \"Hi Morena what's mew with you?\"\n\nI wound up into a short chat with Morena but she's whining \"There's power outage at my house this morning into afternoon.\"\n\nPlus I think that's making her internet service not behave when's it's comes to responding to my emails. Ugh.\n\nMorena added \"I'll talk to you later.\" signed out.\n\nI wound up turning the heat back on out of freezing in here. Monday referred by the High Council as Mars' Day is supposedly being freezing cold even though that day is a holiday. Oh well. I'm just not looking forwards to Monday because of that day is a holiday that's bound to make colleges' closed and leave me stuck at home bored to tears and slobbering the poor baby cute kitten with too much kisses and hugs fests. Also leave me bored to tears of the damn TV not showing anything decent besides crummy programs involving sporting events than anything else. Ugh screw the fact that the holidays preempt the talk shows and always show sports than anything decent.\n\nUgh today's a holiday involving civil rights' memory leadership and stuff. Oh well.\n\n\"Call mom.\" I got by cell phone which I wound up onto the phone with mom twice this morning like from nine o'clock to nine fifteen is when she whined \"I have to go to the bathroom. I asked you to call me back at nine thirty.\"\n\nUgh this was agreed.\n\nI did that call back at nine thirty which we were on the phone for around an hour till mom whined \"I needing to get off the phone for starting my car. I'm to getting to work from one o'clock to six o'clock.\"\n\nUgh. Mom's working an early morning work shift tomorrow at six o'clock in the morning so phoning tonight isn't going to be much. I think the phone call tonight will be short to the point and left time for mom to go to bed early for that six o'clock in the morning work shift. This is a pity towards mom having to work that damn work shift. Ugh again. Baby cute kitten wound up slobbered with kisses and hugs fests. The cutie tolerated her paycheck for free eats fine without any protest but wanted out of my arms. I guess she wasn't in the mood for a hugging and a kissing faced ritual. This is a pity. Also I love giving the baby cat kisses and hugs fests. Sometimes the munchkin tolerates those kisses fine including hugs for me to do. Other times she'll run off and hide and avoid me and my kisses and hugs fests' mood. Ugh quite a pity anyway. Aw baby bun kin was on the couch then she went and hid somewhere. I guess she's fed up with me slobbering her with kisses and picking her cuteness up for hugs she doesn't feel like tolerating. Hence the munchkin has gone to hide and avoid me and my mood. Ugh I love that little munchkin bunches enough to pick her up for hugs and kisses. I love it when's the kitten's tolerant of the kisses and hugs. Aw she's so cute. I had the heat on all night and now I had to turn that off out of sweating bullets by armpits. Ugh this is a yucky feeling to feel involving the sweatiness of armpits. Ugh. I wound up watching HG while eating lunch till noon is when I went to the computer to send emails. I sent emails to people but not Morena or Jolica.\n\nMorena whined earlier \"My house having a power outage hence internet isn't good.\" while Jolica wasn't too talkative with my previous emails' messages \"Sounds good.\"\n\nUgh. I finally sent emails to Morena and Jolica.\n\nIn Jolica's email I said \"I alerted you that I emailed you two Edenia series' stories for you to read when's you have time.\"\n\nUgh nice. Too bad Morena doesn't have an email account for me to send her Edenia series stories for her to read because she whined to me \"Smash-words' website giving me trouble downloading your free stories.\"\n\nI had to tell her \"You to use Barnes and Noble's website for downloading my stories online Smash-words.\"\n\nUgh hopefully that helped Morena download my free stories. Bah humbug to the fact that I'm stuck amusing myself at home out of unable to get outside walking around town or the driveway. The weather left ice all over the place including heavy snow too. Yucky weather!\n\n\"Call mom.\" I got which I called mom.\n\nAnyway mom by her phone call said \"There's ice on the driveway giving my car trouble driving out.\"\n\nUgh poor Momsy Bobsy with her car. Oh well. Mom's car is nothing but a rusty junk bucket that beats eggs around the bushes and never seemed to be worth its job driving for mom. Yuck. Also I said jokes to mom by phone which I meant to use those jokes into a story and seeing what I can do involving those jokes I said.\n\nOne joke I said \"You should be getting a taxi and taxing around town like a taxi cab driver.\"\n\nOh well. Cute joke anyway.\n\nAlso sometimes I say jokes \"You should be gulping peach pits and spitting them out.\"\n\nI said that joke but I said \"peach pits should be spit onto the stairs leading to a church.\" involving something in the Edenia series.\n\nOh I think I said that as an insult than a joke. Oh sucks. I sent emails to people then after that I don't know what to do today besides annoying the cutest cat ever with kisses and hugs fests. That's it if the cutie is around for me to do that annoying behavior onto her cuteness that doesn't care for it. Ugh poor kitty poor me. I must be bored to tears that I'm just not sure of what to do besides slobber fest the kitty with kisses and picking her up for annoying hugs fests she's not in the mood for. Ugh poor kitty poor me for being bored enough to annoy the poor cat. Ugh. I wound up with an attack of paranoia involving me sick in the toilet with problems hence I not able to do much tonight besides type onto the computer.\n\nI had an attack of voice Man's Day night into Terri's Day morning hence I never once slept into bed. I wound up with that damn attack out of sickness in the toilet with number two. I think around five o'clock is when the attack blew off. Yuck. Also I didn't go to bed instead I stayed up watching the news's programs on CBS channel till seven thirty is when I drank a chocolate milk drink then entertained the furry kitty onto my lap. Aw cutie is so cute when's lap happy. Aw love my little munchkin bunches to slobber fest kisses and hugs onto her cuteness. She's tolerant of her paycheck for free eats with being tolerant of my kisses and hugs' fests mood. Aw cute. After the attack I wound up napping three times one was an hour nap. Also around twelve o'clock I went outside to do laundry in the laundry's room despite the weather being cold outside. At least I waited till afternoon to do laundry out of how cold it'll be in the morning. Ugh.\n\n\"Hi Morena how are you?\" I was in a chat with Morena in the process of doing laundry.\n\nMorena said \"I nagged you to vacuum the apartment which you should for your cat's sake. I nagged you for I think your cat's big bald spot onto her tummy was from you not cleaning your apartment very often very good.\"\n\nUgh this stink big time. After vacuuming I replaced the kitty litter to Samantha Beatrice's bathroom which cutie pooped twice into there and has yet to pee. Oh well. I guess that's a nice thank you for cleaning out her crap. Oh well again. Anyway after that cleaning I threw out the vacuum's crap into the trash can in the kitchen cupboards. I talked to Morena till three o'clock.\n\n\"I have to go home to attend an eye doctor's appointment.\" She told me ending the chat.\n\nA pity! Also saw Dellen's funny show she's funny. I wound up for dinner around five o'clock eating crappy foods hence I constipated and unable to have results into the toilet till eight o'clock after phoning mom for two hours. Ugh. I was on the phone with mom for two hours with a fifteen minute break for bathroom for mom including resuming the phone call till eight o'clock is when we quit. I wound up in the toilet with problems like diarrhea. Yuck. I wound up with the voice going last night which I read a bit of Michelle Michael's book till nine o'clock is when I focused onto the TV. I watched TV till ten o'clock is when I crashed into bed. Ugh boy was I glad to sleep. Ugh.\n\nI slept for around twelve hours even with the voice picking onto me \"Get up!\"\n\nThe voice insisted \"You to get up!\" but I refused and remained asleep. Ugh.\n\nI had a weird dream involving someone named Denise. She and I were traveling around a town looking for a bookstore. One bookstore was under construction while the other appeared to be a new age shop with those new age's stuff involving candles and crystals. Oh well.\n\nOne guy in a suit there talked to me \"I want something from you.\"\n\nI explained by voice \"Denise and I were deaf.\"\n\nThe guy didn't seem to listen to me for he again asked me \"I'm asking for something.\"\n\nI had to hand over my wire charger for cell phone which he took fine. Ugh. Also Denise wound up onto her laptop highlighted by a projector screen's light signing onto that thing. I don't get it that dreams involving Denise.\n\nI dreamed of going to a beach to sit in chairs with a couple appearing to be fighting that refused to talk to each other despite me saying \"I'm insisting that you to talk.\"\n\nI wound up doing arts and crafts involving pottery and went to find a kiln for firing that pottery into. One person wound up leading me through a school's building that was on the beach to a kiln which the pottery kept changing designs whenever I carried it to the kiln including into the machine for firing that piece of art. Ugh don't get it my mind anyway. I made a sporting games' themed piece of pottery using my name and the rings but my mind kept changing the piece of pottery all over the place's design. Yuck. I wound up onto a boat which I handed the boat's driver my umbrella like it was payment for boarding into a bin. After that I went to sit down but had to exchange my seat because an old man needed to sit there. Ugh. The boat ride was through the night with the sky blurring of stars streaking though the sky. Also there was an owl like shaped drone machine that floated above the boat only to crash into it out of getting out of juice. Someone aboard the boat took that owl drone and threw it overboard. After the boat ride was done I reached land to find my umbrella in a bin which I couldn't find despite taking out several umbrellas. I wound up picking up an umbrella then taking it to disembark the boat and reached a boardwalk with a city. I followed the old man to a restaurant where he sat at a table. I went to another table to sit and met other people there which I wound up waking up as a result. Ugh.\n\nI did have some idea of me holding onto an umbrella while seated at the table only to get someone yanking it from my hand yelling at me \"I'm accusing you of stealing that thing the umbrella!\"\n\nYuck.\n\nAround eleven o'clock or earlier I bugged dad to drive me around \"Hi Daddy are you free to drive me around for errands like library drug store and groceries?\"\n\nDad agreed giving me a time of one o'clock saying \"One o'clock pickup.\"\n\nDad arrived five minutes early around twelve fifty five. Ugh he's habitually early like I am with meetings involving Morena and the schizophrenic's club gang at the local college. Ugh. I found three soap opera magazines I won't read because I can use the internet to find out online the synopsis of the soap operas and junk like that so I donated those magazines. I can watch those soap operas on TV to figure out their storylines so magazines are useless for me including canceling the subscription too. Ugh I made sure to scrawl out my name and address to those soap operas' magazines including one on mountain I donated I doubt I would read. Oh well. I made sure the magazines had the names and address scrawled out by marker so they won't be returned to my home. Oh Yay me. Also I picked up four children's books I thought I would read if I get around to it. If not I'll donate those books to the school's library when that's possible. Ugh. I dropped off two books I already have the e-book versions of so I didn't need the paper versions.\n\nThe voice has been picky onto me \"You having paper versions of e-books you shouldn't check out but read by e-reader instead.\"\n\nUgh this is the pits.\n\nAlso voice has been picky onto me \"You having paper versions of e-books when you should be reading by e-reader instead of the paper versions.\"\n\nUgh I meant to get around to reading by e-reader those e-books but I haven't in awhile despite earlier last week I read an e-book for over an hour reading one hundred pages straight. Oh well. I saw a teens' novel at the town library that was newly being checked in which I asked for that book to read.\n\nThe librarian told me \"The book wasn't ready for being checked out. I'll put your name onto the list for that teens' novel.\"\n\nUgh nice.\n\nI went to drug store for pill refills for one pill I'm currently on for schizophrenic's talk.  \nThe drug store's clerk said \"Hi Victoria here's your prescription. You have to pay eight dollars and fifty cents for the pills.\" this is like I seemed to be doing lately.\n\nThis paying for prescriptions is the pits and not what I had in mind to do actually. I just don't like this paying for my pills when I preferred to get them for free like I normally gotten them last year. This year the pills are costing me money something I just don't care for. Ugh. After paying for prescriptions which was by all of a gift card and a part of a twenty dollar bill I didn't buy anything else. I was rather disgusted with the fact that I had to pay for my prescriptions which I left without buying any of the products. Ugh. I went grocery shopping which I think dad bought something then put his item into the car and then resumed going to the grocery store to wait for me. Ugh a pity anyway. Thanks to this stupid government shutdown I have an advance of money into food stamp card this month but in February nicknamed Fabs next month I won't have any food stamp money processed unless this shutdown of the government quits being shut. I'm being frugal with my groceries' food stamp money hence I didn't buy much besides five items for eleven dollars. Ugh I guess I'll be frugal for awhile. Oh well. I tried to buy ten dollars worth of groceries but I went over that amount by a dollar and twenty five cents. I'm not buying much food nowadays. I'm trying to buy food for ten dollars or less till I get my food stamps restored. Ugh. I'm trying to avoid piglet onto food so I can make it last awhile till the time for grocery shopping arrives. Hence I bought food from the discounted food reject bin and that was just muffins I aimed to freeze into the freezer and eat for dinner with some spread for them. Oh well. Also cutesy cat's got a vet appointment for tomorrow because her bald spot onto her tummy has gotten worse off instead of hair growing the spot's gotten more bald and bigger. Ugh hence I had to schedule a vet's appointment to figure out what's going on with the poor baby cute kitten. Aw. I love my cutesy cat enough to slobber kisses and given her hugs' fests. She's so tolerant of the hugs and kisses like the behavior is her paycheck for free eats and a free warm body to cuddle bum with whenever she's cold and wants my lap. Aw love my cutesy cat the baby bundle of fur bunches. She's so cute. I only have two subscriptions to two magazines I cared about which one is on gymnastics my favored sport and the other is on science fiction fantasy. I like both magazines their good reading anyway. Even annoying is fantasy and science fiction magazine keeps on rejecting my work.\n\nI kept getting voice saying \"Enjoys your work but won't publish them.\"\n\nI keep getting this commentary involving whatever works I sent to that magazine which cans be anything involving poetry and Edenia series' stories. Ugh. I'm not happy that the magazine keeps on rejecting me and refuses to accept any of my work into their magazine. This is an annoyance whenever I keep on submitting stories and poetry to them but they keep giving me excuses to reject my work and balk accepting. I feel like their rejecting my work on purpose because I'm self published online smash-words' website something they don't care for and don't want anything to do with. Ugh.\n\nDrat the fact that the magazine according to dad \"They want to make money.\"\n\nI whined to dad once \"They keep on rejecting my work.\"\n\nThis was what dad's response to my whining. Ugh. I'm not happy that I have to enter contests into their magazine including trying to get already published work reviewed into fantasy and science fiction magazine. I got refusals on that reviewing as a result. Ugh damn the editor for that damned balking. Also annoying is no one's taking me seriously as a writer. I keep on posting links to smash-words' stories but no ones bothering to like those links even if I post them online.\n\nI once posted \"I finished a seven thousand word Edenia series story\" online.\n\nHardly anyone bothered to acknowledge or like that status. Damn those idiotic people for their damned ignorance. Also annoying is when I posts about my Edenia series online I receive ignorance and no one bothering to like my statuses. I feel like my writing career posts online are ignored and dismissed and not given any support. Only Morena supports me with that posting and likes links but anybody else is careless and don't care towards me or for me and my writers' life posts.\n\nI've been tempted to post something saying \"Like this status or be deleted.\"\n\nI'm just not happy with the ignorance online involving the Edenia series' works I do including anything involving my writing career too. Ugh.\n\n\"Read 78 pages of 'Cold Snap' by Allison Brennan last night\" my post online.\n\nI'm hoping I would get someone else besides Morena liking that post. Ugh. Only Morena likes my posts with someone else occasionally likes my posts but that's not all the time occasionally. Oh well. Also went online smash-words' website and downloaded three stories that seemed to be erotica porn like which were free. Oh well their by Janna Japan who's got thirty five people favoring her online there. She's lucky people favored her involving her erotica porn stories. Ugh. So far eleven people have favored me as a result of self publishing over one hundred stories online smash-words. Most of those stories are for free while some are for fees that aren't selling. Ugh damn the public for their insistence of wanting my stories free. Ugh. I feel like something I've typed into my stories' paragraphs' contents are turning off readers from buying my stories with fees. Instead this is making them prefer my stories to be free. Ugh hence whenever my stories are for free their easily bought and downloaded by hundreds and thousands. Ugh.\n\nUgh hence my line \"I'm a best seller of works such as Edenia series that is always downloaded by the hundreds and thousands.\"\n\nI used that line into my biography paragraph to make people think I'm a best seller like a trick when it's not really true. Ugh. I noticed I seemed to get my free stories downloaded by too much like hundreds and thousands while my fees' stories aren't given a damn downloaded status. This sucks big time when I can't seem to convince the public to download my fee stories for samples including buying them. Ugh. I swear something of the stories' paragraphs turn readers off from wanting to buy my stories hence their insistence of the stories being free by how well they download the stories that are for free. Ugh this fucking sucks. Baby cute kitten wound up with a ten thirty vet appointment today. She hid but showed herself while I was on the phone with mom. I wound up snatching her cuteness up and locked her into the bathroom. Poor cute baby kitten didn't like that at all. Oh well. Anyway I talked to mom by phone till close to ten o'clock is when we hung up. I was chatting with Morena by cell phone at the time too but around that time I ended chat on having to put cute baby kitten into the cat carrier. Ugh. I'm glad I locked the baby kitten into the bathroom for she gave me lots of trouble putting her into the cat carrier. Ugh she kept resisting including climbing out of that thing which I had to catch her multiple times till I succeeded in getting her locked into that thing. Ugh again.\n\n\"I'll come around ten fifteen.\" like he said by text email response to my question's text email message \"What time to pick me and cutie up?\"\n\nUgh dad tried a back roads route but the street was blocked so he had to take another back roads' route to the vet hospital. The vet appointment went fine to my relief. Cutesy cat's hair onto her bald spot is growing again and seemed to be improving. Ooh goody. This is the same for her bald spots onto her back end and tail too. Oh Yay for that hair growth. Also after vet saw cutie the bill was only fifty cents less than twenty bucks to my relief. Oh Yay for that the bill was cheap. Ooh goody. I got home and wound up putting the remainder of my one hundred dollar money into book safe. I think I have sixty dollars left into book safe. Oh well.\n\n\"Hi Morena.\" I emailed Morena.\n\nI was in a chat for thirty minutes till eleven thirty is when she rudely cut me off. Ugh jeez Morena for that cuts offs. Ugh. Anyway around eleven thirty I assumed I was hungry because of the noises of my head sounding so I had a banana then fifteen minutes later was sick in the toilet. Yuck to have that problem involving the sickness in the toilet that gets the voice going. Ugh again. I around eleven forty five walked to Mickayla's which I had to use the road to avoid icy sidewalks and snowed areas that weren't shoveled. Yuck. This sucks. Ugh I had to walk with traffic as a result of this damned walk to Mickayla's.\n\nI got to Mickayla's a minute early before Morena arrived with Ted. She could have picked me up and driven me to Mickayla's. Damn Morena for being inconsiderate. Ugh.\n\nAlso food was what Morena said \"I insisted you have non dairy like food.\"\n\nI did bring a bag of cheese with me which Morena paid me five bucks for that.\n\nMorena has been picky onto me \"You should stop eating dairy products. I want you to avoid the cheese eating including dairy products. I want you to see how your body's system would do without that dairy food eating.\"\n\nUgh. I had non dairy food including water to drink like I normally have with my food which is just water than anything else. I was sick in the toilet fifteen minutes after I finished my food. I'm not so sure if Mickayla's food aggravates my stomach to be sick with toiletry sicknesses or that the food I ate for breakfast caught up with me. After eating Mars as nicknamed this student of Morena's that Morena tutors at the local college showed up very rudely and was rudely late. He ordered the same food that Ted ate too but more of the food department. Also Mars got Morena to get me to walk home which she wound up driving him and Ted around for errands. Damn Mars for this rudeness damn Morena for this driving rudeness. I was forced to walk home thanks to the rudeness of Mars' inconsiderate behavior and forced to walk home thanks to Morena and her inconsiderate behavior of her car not having room for me. Thanks a lot you both idiots!\n\nI got home and wound up sick in the toilet with a problem hence I annoyed with Morena and Mars. I worry that I'll walk home while sick with toiletry problems and won't be able to get inside my apartment to use the bathroom despite voice going off out of a medical emergency hitting a neighbor. Ugh. I worry that the emergency crew will be rude and won't let me get inside my apartment once I'm home from a walk.\n\nI worry that they say \"We accuse you of looting someone's apartment!\" when \"I actually live there.\" which they'll say \"Yeah right move along.\"\n\nI also worry that I'll be sick with the voice going off involving the bathroom and can't use the toilet at my apartment thanks to the emergency crew's not willing to let me inside my apartment.\n\nAlso worry that the emergency crew will not be letting me inside my apartment despite I saying \"I live there\" and showing my ID card.\n\nUgh I worry that the emergency crew the cops will arrest me instead and throw me into jail instead of listening to me and my wording involving living at that apartment building. Ugh I hate my worries actually. I worry that when I'm walking home from some place I won't be able to get inside my apartment to rest from the voice's attacking me. I noticed whenever I'm walking home from the library the voice picks onto me including triggering my paranoia to go off bothering me. This is something that bothers me whenever I'm walking home from the town library. Ugh. I hate walking to the town library because of the voice picking onto me while I'm on the way to there. I also hate walking home because of the voice's picky noise whenever I walk home. I just don't care for walking to the town library and walking to home either. Also I get the voice's pickiness whenever I walk a certain road route to home. I always get the voice going picking onto me hence my worries of unable to get inside my apartment to rest and go to the toiletry's business. Ugh. There are some occasions I've managed to walk home and avoid the voice's talk but that only involves me walking fast and having to go number two in the toilet. Ugh. Also I got ten bucks into my wallet for spending money for spending onto junk or just plain old stuff for the cutest cat ever. Aw I figured that'll be my limit involving buying anything in stores just ten bucks. I'm not sure of what to do with the fivers I received from Morena and change. I figured I'll put the fivers some place into my apartment hiding somewhere for me to save on hand for Bea Beatrice Bee the First's honor. Oh well. Grandma Bee always gives me five dollar bills something I'm trying to honor her memory by saving those fivers for her honor. Ugh. Hence I'm just not entirely sure of where to put the fivers I have somewhere around my apartment. Ugh again. I'm more inclined to put the fivers into a cup somewhere and work on saving twenty bucks worth of fives then exchange it for twenty dollar bill from the bank. I figured that'll be nice of me to do that saving including exchanging I guess. Oh well. Baby cute kitten once I was home was around socializing with me. I guess the munchkin wanted to sit onto my lap but I balked on going to type by computer. Ugh did give the baby cutie kisses onto the top of her head. She tolerated the kiss fine. Aw cute. I love that little kitty so much to slobber kisses onto her head including gathering her into my arms for hugs' fests. She's so tolerant of the hugs and kisses. Aw love my little munchkin bunches. She's so cute.\n\nYesterday was mom's day off which I used an operator for deaf to contact her by phone.\n\nMom whined \"You seemed to have trouble telling the difference from what you're hearing by ears and your mind. Just use that deaf relay operator service for contacting me including phoning people.\"\n\nI dialed the operator who said \"Relay operator at your service.\"\n\nI said \"Please dial this number.\" I give the number.\n\nOperator said \"Dialing number.\" This followed by saying \"Ringing one ringing two female 'Hello.'\"\n\nI ranged mom around eight something o'clock and reached her \"Mom you willing to hop and skip to Alaska from Australia?\"\n\nAlaska and Australia is a joke I use onto mom by phone.  \nMom said \"I needing to do errands before coming up to see you so talk to you later.\"\n\nOperator reported \"Person hung up.\"\n\nUgh \"Thanks.\" I hung up.\n\nI watched TV while journaling till eleven o'clock is when mom arrived. She supposed to arrive around ten o'clock to ten thirty but she was thirty minutes late. Ugh she's always late as ever whenever arriving to my home. Ugh again. Anyway mom proceeded to use my computer to look up a business then looked up the Appalachian Trail in state that's in my area of the state. She looked them both up then wrote the information down by notepad. She intended to write that into my journal but I gave her a notepad instead. Oh well. After computer mom drove me to Dublin Donuts where we had mom's choice of sandwich but my choice of drink involving water. Mom had coffee but she barely drank that and had me throw that out. Ugh what a waste of drink anyway. After we finished Dublin Donuts was to library next door mom driving to there and parking in the lot. Mom wound up buying two cookbooks she found. I bought a Terrific Terri book that was in paperback despite already having the hardcover version. Oh well. Once I was done buying the book I picked up a script book of a movie that's a library's book which is a month loaner. I did ask librarian earlier this week for a library book I spotted onto their desk but the book wasn't ready for me to check out. The librarian put me onto the list which I'm not sure of what the list's length of people reading that book is. Ugh.\n\nMom drove partially to a store but she turned around after signing \"Stupid.\"\n\nI wasn't sure of what she meant by that wording including signing that. Oh well. Mom went to Americaversal store where I used that new bag mom gave me including mom buying our stuff. I got gum and something to eat as a dessert while at home. Mom bought our stuff then drove me home where we piglet onto the dessert food.\n\nMom left for home which she told me \"You to call me at six o'clock.\"\n\n\"I agreed on that talk.\" I said.\n\nMom wound up signing \"I love you\" as she left which I said \"I love you Momsy Bobsy.\"\n\nI went onto computer and sent people emails then after that only two responded to my emails while others didn't yet. Oh well. This stink big time when I send emails that people aren't responding to the messages. Yuck. I swear something I said into the emails' contents turns people off from responding. Ugh hence I think this attitude. Ugh again.\n\nI sent a lengthy email regarding my day to Jolica which I ended with \"I'm always chewing gum whenever I'm not home from being out after meals.\"\n\nJolica's response was \"I love gum.\"\n\nUgh she's hardly wordy with her emails towards me. Oh well.\n\nI sent Tommy my boyfriend or paired husband as he's referred to an email mostly a picture of a naked cowboy dancing.\n\nTommy somewhere doing duties for the High Council responded with \"Laughing out loud. How are you doing?\"\n\nI have yet to respond to that email out of that I sent him a joke email earlier and he never responded to that email. Ugh. I sent Jolica an email regarding books but I think that emails' contents had something into it that turned her off from responding. Ugh hence I think my emails to people always turns people off from responding. After emailing I went to watch TV while having the voice picking onto me very loudly that I couldn't think.\n\n\"Are you forgetting something?\" sang voice over and over very loudly that I couldn't think of my own thoughts \"Forgetting some.\"\n\nOne voice said \"Stay home\" in response to me thinking \"I need a hospital visit.\"\n\nUgh that was done which I stayed home than going out to the hospital's emergency room for an entire night's stay before in the morning making up the doctor's mind to admit me or not. Ugh again.\n\nAnyway mom text emailed me around six o'clock \"Call at seven thanks mom.\"\n\nMom must have gone to church hence her seven o'clock phone time request. Ugh. I text emailed dad around eleven o'clock in the morning like always when's I want a conversation with dad.\n\nI said \"Hi daddy. How are you and kitties today? Sam's been lap happy but cute.\"\n\nDad responded with \"We are all fine right now.\"\n\nDad doesn't respond much to my questions of the texting messages with his favorite word \"Fine.\"\n\nUgh dad doesn't say much besides that wording towards me. Ugh again.\n\nAnyway after my outing with mom who left around one o'clock I text emailed dad again.\n\nI said \"Hi dad how's your day going? I'm home with cutest cat roams from being out doing errands.\"\n\nDad said \"At the dump going Americaversal next.\"\n\nMom has told me over and over \"You to not to tell dad that I was visiting you. This is none of his business.\"\n\nUgh I haven't really told dad that I was out with mom driving me for errands but I've emailed Morena and Jolica with that telling included. I wound up barraged by the voice while I was home doing nothing but TV and trying to relax. I wound up talking to mom by phone around seven o'clock even with that barrage going but the paranoia wasn't much. Oh goody that I got to talk to mom by phone then after that I watched HGTV channel junk than animal planet's show. Oh well.\n\nMom was babbling \"I bought two books from library. One was a Terrific Terri's book costing in bookstore forty bucks but I paid fifty cents for it. The book was being a cookbook involving desserts which seemed tasty.\" This talk made me drink lots of water. Ugh. Also whenever mom mentions food to me by phone I get mouth watered cravings hence I have to go gulp some water. This is the same for me gulping water whenever there's a food commercial on TV. Ugh. I was too creepy out by the voice's barrage to tolerate animal planet's show as a result. Ugh wound up watching reruns of \"Love it or List it.\" Both episodes ended with a \"Love it\" result. Ooh goody something I like involving those episodes than ending with a \"List it\" for sale episodes. I don't care for that involving the house going to the real estate agent to sell. Yuck. Around nine thirty, I read a bit of Michelle Michael's book. I think I read for thirty minutes while glancing at the TV for results of stuff then around ten o'clock I crashed into bed and slept till bathroom woke me up. Ugh I woke up with bathroom including a stinging in pain ankle on my right foot. I'm not so sure if I slept wrong or not. Oh well. The pain isn't the first time I've gotten it but I've woken up with the pain multiple times. Ugh the pain is always a pain in the petunia bothering me enough to wake up and start my damn day. Ugh. I could only try two minutes of sleep before I gave up and got up starting my damn day. Ugh I had the heat on all night but turned that off on how warm it'll be in here. Oh well. Local news predicted forties for Sunday then some cold temperatures for the remainder of the week. Ugh. I swear something of my emails' contents always turns people off from wanting to respond hence balking to reply by people. I send emails to people online and sometimes get ignorance to respond. Ugh. I swear like I said that something of my stories' paragraphs online smash-words always turns people off from buying my stories or downloading samples of my stories that are for fees. Hence I always get free stories downloaded for a high number more than my fee stories that aren't downloaded at all.\n\nUgh this sucks big time when I think the stories' paragraphs always makes me think \"Something of the contents turns people off from wanting to buy my stories.\"\n\nThis idea is in place because of downloads of my non fees' stories that are in high numbers. Ugh. I think this status of my stories being downloaded when their free is aggravating me when I can't seem to earn any money off my writings. I can't seem to convince magazines or anybody to publish my work and give me money. Ugh I'm always taken advantage of my writings involving people not bothering to paying me like gymnastics' magazine I submitted an article and they didn't paying me despite having that article into their magazine's February issue. Ugh.  \nI emailed a story to dad and Jolica using line \"Story I don't know what to do with it oh well.\"\n\nSomething I thought of involving the seven series Verona Vander. I thought of one scene during the last seventh book of the series the battler. I also thought of a scene after that book was done with.\n\nA teenaged boy Lance Knight is brought to live with his grandma an old woman in a house which the boy said \"I don't know my heritage or where I was born.\"\n\n\"I tell you a told a story of being born in another world called Aire with cloned copies including your sister Lizette taken out of that world as a baby.\" as told by grandma \"You were considered the heir to the throne of Lance Richard. You the high king heir to the throne despite your sister will be princess with you.\"\n\nLance Knight is somewhat believes the grandma \"I'm not sure of what to make of that story.\"\n\nLance Knight recalls himself as a youngster visiting another world with his sister and becoming king there.\n\nLance Knight realized \"The world is real.\" despite my Aunt Susan said \"That world is fake and calling it a childhood memory.\"\n\nLance Knight realized \"That world is real.\" and realized \"I've got believers into my family remaining sister despite Auntie Susan doesn't believe who is busy being pretty and thinking of attracting people's eyes like a pretty woman.\"\n\nLance Knight realized \"The world is real called by a name Aire.\" which he discussed with his sister who said \"I believes.\" despite pretty Auntie Susan said \"I don't believe.\"\n\nLance Knight asked his Grandma \"I want to discuss that world Aire with you and whoever believes.\"\n\nGrandma said \"I believe the two people who have been to that world themselves which is you and your sister.\"\n\nLance Knight realized \"Aire would be heaven to live in once I'm dead to Terra's world.\"\n\nLance Knight realized that and realized that fact towards the others who believes his talk involving his sister Lizette and Grandma. This story idea takes place after the events of the Battler in the seventh and final book of the series. Susan marries has four children named after deceased in train explosion brothers and sister.\n\nSusan as an old woman dying gets dreams of a lion saying \"I'm demanding you to acknowledge me.\"\n\nFor Susan was in denial about Lance Richard \"I'm calling the god king a children's imagination memory.\"\n\nSusan realized \"Lance Richard the god king is real.\"\n\nShe spoke to her children \"I tells you children of Lance Richard the god king who is real you should believe.\" Who her children somewhat said \"We believe with some disbelief.\"\n\nSusan said \"I acknowledged Lance Richard as my god king.\" dies and joins her family in Edenia as heaven to go to once dead. I wrote the idea involving Susan down into a notebook and finally got around to typing that idea down today this morning. Oh goody for me. I guess that's nice anyway. Ugh I doubt this story would be accepted by a fantasy and science fiction magazine. I think this story's got confusing stuff into it that doesn't make sense despite the contents involves like religious story. Ugh I don't know what to do with that damn story anyway. This sucks.\n\nAlso I emailed Jolica once of another story which she emailed I back \"I'm being confused with the story. The story needs editing which its okay so far from what've read.\"\n\nUgh that story was on \"The Dying One\" I already put into my computer journal earlier. Oh well.\n\nI have yet to receive a response from dad involving the story I emailed him about \"The Dying One.\"\n\nI hate it when dad doesn't bother to responding to my emails as soon as possible. Ugh how annoying. I threw out the garbage including an unfinished notebook of journaling I didn't bother to finish.\n\nI think voice scolded me \"You could have finished that notebook.\"\n\nI maybe I should have finished that notebook but I didn't bother. Oh well. That notebook I didn't finish was originally a worthless sketch book that was only worth a dollar and not five bucks I bought off the Barnes and Noble's bookstore website. I feel like I got ripped off when I bought that journal off that bookstore's website. Ugh. The journal was getting too bent out of shape when I was writing into it including that the notebook didn't have lines for me to write with like some notebooks have. I hated that notebook and I hated writing into it. I was glad to throw that damn thing out even if it was unfinished. Ugh.\n\nI was urged by voice \"You to go take your pills and eat food.\" but I refused on calling mom.\n\nI should have listened to the voice's suggestion because mom picked up the phone at eight forty five in the morning and hogged me to ten o'clock is when she finally quit. Ugh hence voice picking onto me when I got off the phone with mom \"You to go take your pills and eat food!\"\n\nAlso damn Morena \"Hi Morena.\"\n\n\"I'm raving about this archery contest I saw online.\" and then she told me \"The results of women's competition. A Highlander archer won over a First One that was fourteen years old.\"\n\nUgh I guess that's nice.\n\nAlso Morena added \"I want to go watch the men's competition. Talk to you later.\"\n\nShe ended our conversation which I was talking to her while talking to mom by phone. Ugh not impressive because mom asked me \"How old is your cat?\"\n\nI got distracted by that talk with Morena on my cell phone \"Sorry you care to repeat?\"\n\n\"How old is your cat?\" Mom had to repeat her question which I quit the talk with Morena and focused onto mom \"She's thirteen years old.\"\n\nVery rude of me!\n\nAround ten o'clock mom whined \"I needing to go start my car for work at noon.\" which we both hung up.\n\nI finally got to eat taking my pills and eating breakfast which was muffins the remainder of them with butter on top and the remainder of fruit juice. I finished the bottle. Nice.\n\nPlus mom did ask me \"What you had for breakfast?\" which I didn't tell her \"I didn't have breakfast yet/\" instead I claimed \"I had chocolate spread and that fruit juice.\"\n\nThis was a lie but the voice scolded me \"You being a liar. You lied to mom.\"\n\nOnce I was off the phone with mom I had chocolate spread for breakfast making this a truth than a lie towards mom. Oh well. After breakfast I felt sleepy so I took an hour nap by armchair falling asleep face mashed into the armrest out of sleeping comfortably. I don't sleep lying back using the foot rest. I sleep with my face into the armchair's armrest. I always find that easy for me to sleep that position despite this sometimes aggravates my hips.\n\nAround noon I woke up to the noises of my head going off saying \"Are you forgetting something?\" over and over \"Forgetting some.\"\n\nUgh turns out to be my cell phone involving posts from Jolica who posted pictures of something else than pictures of herself and her son or family. Oh well.\n\nI had lunch then after that I thought \"I would figure out what to do besides bugging dad to drive me to the hospital emergency room.\" as suggested by the voice saying \"Hospital.\"\n\nI'm trying to withdraw from eating cheesy foods hence I'm sick in the toilet a lot including suffering from nerve number two making my head sing too much.\n\nI had a singing head yesterday that lasted all afternoon with the chanting blaring \"Are you forgetting something?\" way too much hence I thought \"Hospital emergency room seventh floor?\"\n\nOne voice suggested in response to that thinking \"Stay home wait another day.\"\n\nI obeyed despite one voice today suggested \"Wait till Monday for hospital visit.\"\n\nUgh I've got mental health doctor's appointment coming up in February which I'm not entirely sure of if I can wait that long to whine to the doctor of my voiced problems. Ugh.\n\nBah humbug Bay's Books. I ordered a journal involving the book by Terrific Terri. I ordered that off a goodwill company from Minnehaha from Bay's Books for around eighteen dollars. Ugh. Barnes and Noble's website didn't have that journal for selling plus their used copies cost like thirty dollars and some change something I didn't agree with and went with eighteen dollars off Bay's Books. Ugh again. Also thanks to the trouble of signing into my cell phone's account I went with auto pay option because I kept on having to change my damn password for that damn account. Damn the cell phone's damn account services hence I went with auto pay. I hope I don't regret that paying status. Ugh.\n\nThis is my online blog's entry \"In a Nutshell.\"\n\nOne night I reading one hundred pages of an e-book till five o'clock dinnertime.\n\nI read \"Thievery.\" by Anna Alina book sixteen in her \"Bloody Diaries\" series.\n\nOh Yay me. I did check out the paper version of that book but I have yet to crack that open to read. Oh well this stinks big time to check out books I have already the e-book version. Ugh. How greedy of me to check out books I already have the e-book version of. Ugh again.\n\nAnyway I read that e-book till five o'clock is when my noisy head got too noisy for me \"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?!\"\n\nI had to go take my pills and go eat dinner which I did. I ate four slices of buttered toast and some blueberries. Ugh screw the fact that I had to eat with the voice going off. Also I noticed around the five o'clock hour I keep wounding up sick in the toilet with number two that triggers the voice to go off including ruining my appetite to eat anything decent like fruits and vegetables. Ugh.\n\nSometimes the voice said \"You having the e-book version of a paper version book you shouldn't check out from the town library.\"\n\nLike Anna Alina's book \"Bloody Beautiful.\" when I got commentary after I tried to check out the library's version \"You shouldn't check out the library's version when you have the e-book to read.\"\n\nI already have the e-book version I'm not reading much of very good. Ugh.\n\n\"Hi Jolica what's your opinion of Anna Alina's Bloody Diaries' series book Bloody Beautiful?\" my email to her.\n\nShe replied shortly \"I say Anna Alina's series is very good and well written. You should purchase them by e-book and read them.\"\n\nI already downloaded the series onto e-reader on her advice. I'm trying to read more of that series but I'm just not keen or in the mood to bother. Ugh I just don't get it why's that series supposedly good according to Jolica which isn't attracting my eye to read the books entirely. Ugh. This is the same for this Author Janna Japan's works.\n\nJolica said by email \"Some of Janna Japan's books are good like The House Mouse.\" which I could barely get into.\n\nUgh. I just don't get it why's Janna Japan's books are supposedly be good but I can't seem to make myself read more of her works or any of her books. Ugh sucks.\n\nMom according to phoning talk in response to my question \"What do you think of Janna Japan's works?\"\n\nShe said \"I found Her Royal Cuteness book on cats terrible like a journaling entry that's telling this and that than anything involving descriptive writing.\"\n\nUgh I found that book rather good but heart breaking. I found the book okay enough to rate it a seven out of ten. Ugh too bad mom didn't care for that damn book. Oh well.\n\n\"Hi Daddy let me know what you think of this story.\" I emailed dad a story a short story out of needing something to do involving reading and typing.\n\nI did save an extra copy of that story to tell it in first person when I get around to that typing status. Ugh. Also baby cute kitten hung around in sight and wound up onto my lap but she got off fast and ran off. Ugh turns out she pooped number two into the cat's bathroom hence her friendly forgiveness behavior. Ugh poor cutie always pulls this friendly behavior onto me after she does number two into the cat's bathroom.\n\nSometimes the voice chants whenever she's finished with number two in the cat's bathroom \"Cat pooped clean it up!\"\n\nUgh a pity anyway that I have to put up with that damned noisy issue.\n\nAnyway I've managed to text email dad \"Check your email I emailed you an Edenia series short story.\"\n\nDad said in response \"I'm shoveling snow.\"  \nUgh. I did email Jolica a story but that was by regular email than Chat's email. Ugh that story was too long for me to email her by Chat's email hence I went with regular email. Ugh.\n\n\"Check your email I emailed you a story. I hope your day is a good one despite the cold.\" Jolica responded to my email in Chat's email saying \"Stay safe and warm.\"\n\nOne time I typed an email involving my day which she responded with \"Sounds like a good day.\"\n\nI typed another lengthy day's contents email to Jolica which she responded with her twin saying \"Sounds like a good day\" than anything else.\n\nJolica sometimes isn't that talkative with her emailing responses.\n\nThis lack of talkative emails is the same with dad not talkative by texting him which he responded with a short abrupt texting message \"Fine.\"\n\nUgh jeez daddy. Baby cute kitten has gone to hide somewhere at the moment. I'm not sure of where on Mars that baby cutie went to hide. Ugh I guess she's hiding underneath the damn couch again. Dumb cat dumb animal for hiding like behavior than being social with me. Ugh can't the dumbbell be social than hiding from me?! Ugh what a dumb cat for her avoidance behavior and not being social like I expected her to be. Ugh.\n\n\"Hi Morena how are you?\" I wound up into a short chat with Morena which she said \"I'm worried of power outages at my house this morning into afternoon. I think that's making my internet service not behave when's it's comes to responding to emails.\"\n\nUgh Morena signed out which I wound up turning the heat back on out of freezing in here. Monday is supposedly being freezing cold even though that day is a holiday. Oh well. I'm just not looking forwards to Monday because of that day is a holiday that's bound to make colleges' closed and leave me stuck at home bored to tears and slobbering the poor baby cute kitten with too much kisses and hugs fests. Also leave me bored to tears of the damn TV not showing anything decent besides crummy programs involving sporting events than anything else. Ugh the fact that the holidays preempt the talk shows and always shows sports than anything decent. Ugh. Monday's a holiday involving civil rights' memory leadership and stuff. Oh well.\n\n\"Hi Mom what's mew with you meow?\" I wound up onto the phone with mom twice morning like from nine o'clock to nine fifteen is when she whined \"I have to go eat breakfast. I asked you to call me back at nine thirty.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nI did that call back at nine thirty which we were on the phone for around an hour till mom whined \"I'm to get off the phone for starting my car and getting to work from one o'clock to six o'clock.\"\n\nUgh. Mom's working an early morning work shift tomorrow at six o'clock in the morning so phoning isn't going to be much. I think the phone call tonight will be short to the point and left time for mom to go to bed early for that six o'clock in the morning work shift. This is a pity towards mom having to work that damn work shift. Ugh again. Baby cute kitten wound up slobbered with kisses and hugs fests. The cutie tolerated her paycheck for free eats fine without any protest but wanted out of my arms. I guess she wasn't in the mood for a hugging and a kissing faced ritual. This is a pity. Also I love giving the baby cat kisses and hugs fests. Sometimes the munchkin tolerates those kisses fine including hugs for me to do. Other times she'll run off and hide and avoid me and my kisses and hugs fests' mood. Ugh quite a pity anyway. Aw baby bun kin was on the couch then she went and hid somewhere. I guess she's fed up with me slobbering her with kisses and picking her cuteness up for hugs she doesn't feel like tolerating. Hence the munchkin has gone to hide and avoid me and my mood. Ugh I love that little munchkin bunches enough to pick her up for hugs and kisses. I love it when's the kitten's tolerant of the kisses and hugs. Aw she's so cute. I wound up watching HG while eating lunch till noon is when I went to the computer to send emails. I sent emails to people but not my ideal people.\n\nMorena whined earlier \"My house having a power outage.\" while Jolica wasn't too talkative with my previous emails' messages saying \"Seems like a nice day.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nI finally sent emails to my ideal people Morena and Jolica but in Jolica's email I said \"I alert you that I emailed you two Edenia series' stories for you to read when you have time.\"\n\nUgh nice. Too bad Morena doesn't have an email account for me to send her Edenia series stories for her to read because she whined to me \"Smash-words' website giving me trouble downloading your free stories.\"\n\nI had to tell her \"You to use Barnes and Noble's website.\"\n\nUgh hopefully that helped Morena to download my free stories. Ugh. Bah humbug to the fact that I'm stuck amusing myself at home out of unable to get outside walking around town or the driveway. The weather left ice all over the place including heavy snow too. Yucky weather!  \nAnyway mom by her phone call whined \"There's ice on the driveway giving me car trouble driving out.\"\n\nUgh poor Momsy Bobsy with her car. Oh well. Mom's car is nothing but a rusty junk bucket that beats eggs around the bushes and never seemed to be worth its job driving for mom. Yuck. Also I said jokes to mom by phone which I meant to use those jokes into a story and seeing what I can do involving those jokes I said.\n\nOne joke I said \"You getting a taxi and taxing around town like a taxi cab driver.\"\n\nOh well. Cute joke anyway. Ugh.\n\nAlso sometimes I say jokes \"You gulping peach pits and spitting them out onto the lawn and hope for a tree to grow.\"\n\nThis like one joke I said \"People gulping peach pits and spitting them out onto the stairs leading to a church of the High Council.\" involving something in the Edenia series.\n\nOh I think I said that as an insult than a joke something the High Council found out and scolded me in a visit to them they said \"You insulted us you to give your words of loyalty for that insult.\"\n\n\"I give my loyalty.\" I said with sarcasm which the speakers Shad and Onya said in response \"Meritanians transport Victoria out!\"\n\nI wound up transported to my apartment in Win's Ville as that town is called despite nicknamed Dead men's Village by the High Council.\n\nNothing happens in Win's Ville hence people insisted \"I want to be buried there.\"\n\nI'm not sure of why they want to be buried in Win's Ville despite the town is a college town for students to attend a small branch of the major college University of Long River Place. Oh sucks\n\nLast night was a fiasco around ten o'clock I wound up with an attack of voice scaring me \"Paranoid feeling are you forgetting something forgetting some?\" sang voice.\n\nYuck that bothered me too much to go number two in the toilet a lot.\n\nUgh I noticed the nerve for number two gets the voice involved with its chanting \"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?\"\n\nUgh which the voice has included \"Paranoid feeling!\" with its talk.\n\nNeighbor Jade Jeffery as that clone is called an older clone of someone I'm not sure of whom she is really.\n\nJade downstairs didn't like my toiletry's business ranged my doorbell around midnight with a note in hand \"Your toilet is too loud for me to sleep through so quit that noise. I'm getting up at five o'clock in the morning.\"\n\nUgh again I didn't say anything to her instead told her \"Sorry I'm sick.\"\n\n\"Dad you up and awake?\" I wound up whining to dad \"Sure I'm up and awake.\" I whined \"I'm suffering from an attack of voice.\" by texting message which he responded with a message telling me \"You to go watch TV and put up with the noises.\"\n\nUgh. I with the cat on my lap read and finished Michelle Michael's book which I finished. I rate that book five stars online Good Reads' website including ten stars onto my book lists I consider that book finished. Oh Yay for me.\n\nAlso I managed to read thirty pages of Verona Vander's seven's seven series book seven fold. Oh Yay for me like I said. I managed to read that book even with the cat on my lap entertaining her while watching crap. Ugh. The local news's crap started around three o'clock in the morning so I wound up watching that then I thought I would finish Michelle's book which I did. Oh goody for me for finishing that book which was rather good. Also I wound up showering around nine o'clock than me sick with a voiced attack around seven thirty or around eight o'clock like I habitually have done with the showering. I managed to shower warmly without the voice going off bothering me. Goody!\n\n\"Hi Mom its Victoria I'm up so text email me mews phone wise.\" I text emailed mom around nine o'clock for a phone call then showered and discovered mom text emailed me to call her \"Call Mom!\"\n\nI was on the phone for around an hour with the TV on blaring crummy shows out of charging my cell phone at the time. Ugh. Anyway after the phone call I was able to take a nap for around an hour till a little pass eleven o'clock is when I woke up. I did try multiple attempts to nap after that but I couldn't sleep much. Baby cute kitten hung around me in sight lying next to me in my armchair. I petted her cuteness including rubbing her furry belly but she tolerated that fine. I guess that my noisy head got too much for her to withstand that she's gone to hide somewhere and avoid me and my noises. Ugh. I swear I give up a scent or a noise in response to me having a noisy head such as me tired. Ugh hence cutie went to hide and avoid me slobbering her with kisses and hugs fests. Poor baby cute kitten.\n\nI wound up this morning emailing Morena I saying \"I'm whining of me sick all night with the bathroom number two. The toilet's noises were disturbing the downstairs' neighbor despite I sick.\"\n\nMorena said \"I rather suggested you go cold turkey with the dairy products as in quitting eating the food. You were seeing how your stomach feels involving the food and drink without eating or drinking dairy products.\"\n\nUgh again.\n\nAnyway Morena added \"You want to meet today at Mickayla's?\"\n\nI said \"Yes.\"\n\nThen at eleven o'clock she emailed me \"Sorry I have to cancel our lunch plans on how cold it got outside. I don't want you to get sick from the cold and frostbite.\"\n\nYucky anyway for this weather to be cold as ice and frostbite like. Yuck. I bagged up the cheese products including the dairy products intending to bring them to school but Maureen cancelled lunch at eleven o'clock.\n\n\"You want to meet another day?\" I asked Morena who said \"I agree for a brunch date at ten o'clock tomorrow Friday followed by me driving you home to pick up your dairy food from home. I will keep your dairy products' food and drink till your stomach problems quit.\"\n\nI'm hoping if my stomach proves that I'm allergic to dairy then I won't be eating and drinking that product stuff for the remainder of my life. Ugh sucks.\n\nMorena said \"My husband Jefferson Jones is allergic to dairy can't take in dairy products anymore hence I've got no dairy products at my home for my husband's sake. His body has gotten to the point that it can't stand dairy products into his stomach hence his problems in the toilet.\"\n\nThis sucks.\n\n\"Morena thinks I should stop dairy products food till my stomach problems of being up for hours sick quits to see if that's making me sick or something else.\" my text email to dad around five o'clock.\n\nDad sent me text email message involving what I whined about involving what Morena thinks with me and my eating food \"Stop drinking milk. Stop eating ice cream. Eat less cheese. And stop drinking that breakfast drink. Did you ever read what's in it? You get told but you won't change and you won't get an appointment at CWH to talk to your doctor about this problem. You prefer to do nothing because it's easier and you love sugar and high fructose corn syrup. Change your diet or stop complaining about it.\"\n\nHence today for breakfast I had chocolate spread which I'll have to quit eating including those chocolate milk soy drinks. I'll have to quit buying those chocolate milk soy drinks out of how expensive it is involving seventeen dollars for twelve bottles. Yuck. Anyway for lunch was just toast with butter onto it. I wound up meaning to eat four pieces of toast but since I'm trying to save food I'm eating just two pieces of toast instead. Oh well. Also I wound up for dinner having two sandwiches of toasted bread peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The food was the only food I had left that wasn't dairies for me to eat. I figured I'll eat that including toasted buttered bread too. Nice. Plus I was sick in the toilet with a problem around the ten o'clock hour involving what I had for breakfast which sucks. I wound up eating something non dairy for lunch which brought on constipation hence I unable to have results in the toilet till two o'clock during the lunatic's talk show. Ugh. I've been watching the lunatic's talk show around the two o'clock hour after a talk show at one o'clock including before Dellen's show at three o'clock. I've been watching those three shows back to back followed by local news at four o'clock for the weather report. Oh Yay me. Mom wound up working a full afternoon work shift today hence she's not available for a phone call at six o'clock our regular time. Ugh mom's boss is terrible big time when the boss assigns odd hours for mom to work. Yuck anyway. I'm not so sure of when my monthly paycheck gets deposited either tomorrow the first of February or Monday the fourth of February. Ugh I'll have to pay attention to my bank account to see which day is that depositing done. Ugh. Usually when the third of the month falls on a Sunday I get my paycheck deposited on Friday the first. I'm hoping this keeps true to habit as I hoped. Ugh.\n\nThanks to my stupid stomach's troubles involving the toilet including me suffering from unable to sleep from the voice's talk because of me up for hours doing number two in the toilet I'm on a no dairy diet of foods. Ugh. I had last month one day a week for three weeks me sick in the toilet with number twos involving the voice getting involved for all hours of the night keeping me from sleeping. This sickness was the last straw involving my dairy intake eating hence I gave the food up to Morena to hold for me including either hold or use. Ugh.\n\nAnyway I went to the town library today where I returned Verona Vander's book \"seven banger times.\" I rate seven stars out of ten online. Nice I guess.\n\nAlso I dropped off a magazine on gymnastics I finished which I didn't read the articles back to back instead only read what I cared in that magazine then donated the thing to the town library. That was nice of me. I picked up four books one I'm unfinished with reading I hope to get around to finishing that book when I do. Ugh. Also went to drug store where I paid eleven dollars and ninety cents for two pills for my deductible payment plans. Ugh to pay anyway. I used to get the prescriptions for free but now they cost me money I have to pay. Yuck. After drug store I went grocery shopping where I tried to avoid buying dairy products including sugary foods too. I wound up just buying healthy foods I could figure out was healthy including some drinks that was on sale I figured I'll drink them at school in front of Morena to examine. After grocery shopping I went home where I didn't do much besides send people emails out of needing something to do. Ugh.\n\nAlso I slept fine from ten o'clock to around eight o'clock but my lack of sugary foods such as chocolate spread ruined my pills' wake up status at nine o'clock. I was falling asleep when ten thirty rolled around. I had to nap quite a lot as a result of that sleepiness.\n\nI'm not sure if that sleepiness was a result of me sick in the toilet earlier this week. Ugh noticed a pattern involving me sick in the toilet up for hours on Monday nights to Tuesday mornings for three weeks. This is a yucky problem to have. Yuck. I checked out four books today from town library totaling my checking out books to five books I have now at home waiting for me to read.\n\nTwo of the books were Anna Alina's Bloody Diaries' series books two and three. The books always end in cliffhangers something I just have to check out involving books two and three. Ugh. Book two is an unfinished book I meant to get around to finishing it once I consult my list of where I ended that book. I aimed to finish that damn book then read book three followed by the withdrawn copies of books four and five I have on that series at home in my bookcase. I can't wait to read those books oh well. I also checked out Terrific Terri's Terrible Two's series I thought I would finish that series. I already read the earlier books of that series when they came out but I never finished that series. Ugh don't get it at all why I couldn't finish that series when Terrible Two's first came out. Ugh again. I found a book by Kelly Keller which I saw at the library's desk called \"Slayer.\" some Anna Alina's Bloody Diaries' vampire slayer knockoff book that caught my eye enough to check the book out.\n\n\"I want to check that book out.\" I asked librarian.\n\nThe librarian said \"You have to wait awhile before you could check that book out. Others asked for it so I'll put you onto the list.\"\n\nUgh. Also I have at home a prequel themed script book involving a prequel movie for the book. I meant to get around to reading that prequel to the seven series' script book. Oh screw it to my mood for not bothering to read that library book. Ugh. Since I've gotten those library books into my home I have yet to crack them open or finish one of the three books I'm in process of reading. Ugh this sucks.\n\nAlso one of the three books I'm reading is called \"Moon Dreams\" by Janna Japan that was reviewed with one stars online Bay's Books' website.\n\nUgh I'm trying to get into the mood to finish that damn book despite being partially way through Japan's book despite put off with the spelling and languages' uses.\n\n\"Moon Dreams\" is providing to be a terrible book involving the languages' uses into it involving characters' talks \"Ye old privy\" is an example for bathroom.\n\n\"Ye old privy\" is still used for bathroom in that story including talks on that subject.\n\nI hate the languages' uses involving the bathroom including the subject. I preferred the language to be cleaned up and told in proper English terms than slang terms making me guess what's said. Ugh this is annoying me too much enough to want to give up that damn book. Yuck. I'm also reading Anna Alina's book \"Prince Bloody\" after viewing the movie version to \"Prince Bloody\" on TV.\n\nI wound up reading the first three books of the series Prince the Bloody till I got to \"Prince Bloody's\" book in the series.\n\nI think I should have focused onto \"Prince Bloody\" than any of the books of the series because the series is getting boring for me.\n\n\"What do you think of Anna Alina's series Prince the Bloody?\" I asked her.\n\n\"I won't read more of that series.\" according to her on the phone \"I already read the first book of the series. I won't read more of the other books after finding the first book religious like involving a back from the dead theme.\"\n\nUgh mom added \"I hate books involving religion themed back from the dead themes. I find them inappropriate to read and won't read them period.\"\n\nI told mom \"I'm reading Anna Alina's book Thievery the latest book in her Bloody Diaries' series. I'm trying to get motivated to read the e-book version despite wanting the paper version to read.\"\n\nMom spoke \"I hate e-books I prefer paper books instead.\"\n\n\"Ugh I haven't been in the mood for e-books by e-reader lately. I'm not so sure of why I can't stand reading by e-reader despite e-books is somewhat popular for people to read.\" I said which I added \"Oh well. I don't get it my attitude for e-books by e-reader.\"\n\nMom said \"Then don't read by e-reader but focused onto paper books.\"\n\nI blame mom for this damned attitude towards e-books because she's old fashioned and been more interested into paper books than reading anything electronically. Oh I swear mom's attitude towards electronic books is rubbing off onto me. Oh well.\n\nLast night I got onto the phone multiple times trying to reach mom till like ten after nine o'clock is when I finally reached mom.\n\n\"Hello please leaves a message after the beep!\" her answering machine said in a male voice which I said \"Mom its Victoria pickup the phone I'm calling you! Kindly text emails me mews ASAP!\"\n\n\"Its Victoria kindly text email me mews ASAP.\" I sent to her cell phone.\n\nMom ignored me and my pleas for a phone call till nine o'clock is when her text emailed me saying \"Call mom!\"\n\nI was on the phone for an hour till like ten of ten o'clock is when we signed off \"Good night Momsy!\"\n\n\"Good night Victoria!\" said mom.\n\nUgh. I wound up sick in the toilet with diarrhea like problems three times last night. I don't know if something I'm eating is making me sick or something I'm withdrawing is making me sick with the toilet. Yuck.\n\nI took Morena's suggestion \"You should not be flushing the toilet after ten o'clock in the evening.\"\n\nI did flush last night ending around nine o'clock when I woke up around five o'clock to pee I didn't flush but I did flush around seven o'clock when I woke up and started my damn day. I had a weird dream involving people becoming superheroes after eating certain foods like some lemony like substance that gave them the ability to morph into invincible people that was bullet proof from guns including a height and body appearance change. I saw in that weird dream was the Hamden house including my room and the kitchen. I also dreamed of Tiger the girl cat hanging around in that dream. Ugh I don't get it the dream except assumed this was a memory of my life at that house. Ugh don't know. Also the anniversary of Tiger's passing is coming up this month which it'll be two years since she entered eternal rest sleep. Ugh a pity to dad who's not recovered from that yet. Ugh he's keeping one girl cat Willow alive too long instead of putting her down asleep. Willow's suffering from bathroom sicknesses including a very thin form of not eating much food enough to be skeletal. Ugh Dad keeping Willow alive is annoying when he should put her down asleep the moment she turned out to be sick with her sicknesses. Ugh damn dad. I worry that one of those days I'll show up to dad's house when dad isn't home and find Willow dead on the kitchen floor a victim of a cat fight by one of the cats putting her down into eternal rest. Ugh I have nightmares of that situation. Yuck. Also I worry that I'll take Walnut dad's girl cat from his house and haul her to my apartment soon after Willow is found dead on the kitchen floor. I'm not sure if that'll be good for Walnut or good for Samantha. Ugh. Samantha isn't welcoming towards other cats and animals hence she's more solitary cat and more a one person furry baby cute kitten like she is towards me. Cutie tolerates my hugs and kisses galore like that's her paycheck for free eat around here. This is a pity. I woke up around seven o'clock this morning and didn't do much except waited till eight thirty to shower and ring mom up by phone.\n\nMom text emailed me \"Call Mom!\" as she wound up texting me around nine o'clock.\n\nI was on the phone with mom saying \"I'm debating on when to go to church.\"\n\nUgh.\n\n\"I'm debating on whether to go in the morning or in the evening.\" She said which I said \"I give no feedback in that matter because I hate attending church.\"\n\nI don't particularly care for attending church masses every once a week for a religion that dictates this crummy status.\n\nYuck mom said \"You should go. Church is good for you and your soul.\"\n\nUgh mom made up her mind \"I'll go in the morning.\"\n\nWe both hung up the phone then I went to the computer.\n\nI sent whining emails to Morena \"I'm whining of mom's insisting I go to church when I don't care for church's religious beliefs.\" I said in one email then I said in another email \"I hate church and don't care for religion and won't go no matter how people like mom insisted I go to church.\"\n\n\"That's alright for you.\" Morena responded but didn't stick around for a talk or for my reply of a cat saying \"EEE!\" including thumbs up symbol. She sucks big time when's she's not around for a talk much.\n\nI was itching to talk to someone today like Morena \"I want to talk to you.\" but she wasn't available by not responding.\n\nUgh. I don't know what's going on with Morena not being around for a chat like I hoped she would be. Ugh I love chatting with Morena but I hate it when's she isn't available like I hoped she would be like today. Ugh again.\n\nI crashed around ten thirty last night but I didn't flush the toilet till morning around nine o'clock is when I woke up and started my damn day. Ugh.\n\n\"Hi Mom what's mew with you?\" I ranged mom up by phone around nine o'clock but mom picked up to whine \"I'm not being ready for a phone call. I'm doing laundry and eating breakfast hence I insisted on another phone call at nine forty five.\"\n\nUgh I showered and ate breakfast then charged cell phone twice followed by charging e-reader too. I also phoned mom and was on the phone for forty five minutes till ten thirty is when we got off the phone. Ugh.\n\nI did tell mom \"I'm having a lunch date with Morena today.\"\n\nMom said \"Good tell me about that once I'm home from work.\"\n\nMorena emailed me \"Sorry I have to cancelled our lunch date.\" when she emailed me around eleven o'clock.\n\nToday was nice and mild out enough to have the window open including nice to get outside walking around for garbage tossing out including wearing a nice sweater jacket. Ugh I was hoping to walk to school for lunch with Morena to enjoy the nice day but she said \"Sorry I have to cancel out on meetings with teachers union.\"\n\nI'm not happy about staying home slobbering the poor baby cute kitten who seemed to say \"I wishes you out of my sight and away from me.\"\n\nShe tolerated my hugs but tried to bite my nose when I kept on giving her kisses hence I know she wants me out of the apartment and away from her cuteness. Poor baby cute kitten aw. I put on khaki pants that fit me fine but a sweater I put with that was a bit see through hence I had to wear a bra. I think I'll get rid of that damn sweater out of the see through status of that thing. I hate clothes that require me to wear a damn bra. Yuck. Since Morena cancelled our lunch I've been wearing raggedy sweats as a result of not having to wear a nice pair of pants including a nice sweater. Ugh Morena for canceling our lunch when I wanted to get outside today and walk. Ugh. I'm depressed today enough to spend more money off junk online somewhere. I just don't want to do that money spending after buying six e-books for fifty four dollars or around the amount of fifty five dollars. Ugh.\n\nI told mom by phone last night \"I spend fifty five dollars onto e-books.\"\n\nMom threw an angry fit \"I'm finding that spending not proper! You could have used that money for paying off debt to dad!\"\n\nUgh thanks a lot mom for that attitude. Ugh. Also annoying is I'm fed up with paying dad that debt money I owe him. I'm fed up with mom throwing angry fits to me buying expensive things like e-books and Columbia girl dolls. Mom sucks and so does dad. Ugh both suck big time. I'm just annoyed with this damned debt I owe dad to pay him back money wise. I'm so fed up with paying dad this debt money I owe him.\n\nI'm just tempt to tell mom by phone \"The debt is already paid now.\" or maybe I'll do that a few days later just to get her off my back \"You shouldn't be spending money on stuff.\"\n\nI was on the phone with mom twice last night \"Mom pickup the phone!\"\n\nI called her at seven o'clock but she ignored me so I ranged her up at eight o'clock and reached her.\n\nMom picked up to whine \"I'm working overtime. I just got into my apartment. I wanted you to call me back at nine o'clock in an hour's time frame.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nI ranged mom at nine o'clock which she after thirty minutes of talk \"I wanted to end the phone call.\" which I gave her \"Goodbye mom!\"\n\nMom was instead of hanging up \"I'm into a rant involving the damn dumpster and how germy that was.\"\n\nUgh jeez mom.\n\nWell I finally hung up our call around nine forty on moms whining \"I want to hang up!\"\n\nThe operator typed the stop keying symbol and I hung up \"GA to SK.\"\n\nI didn't bother to watch the remains of a TV show instead I journal by journal till ten o'clock when I crashed into bed. Ugh again. Also slept till six thirty woken up with bathroom which I flushed this time despite unsure of when the neighbor gets up despite sure she gets up at five o'clock in the morning. Ugh I took a nap for an hour sleeping till seven thirty is when I got up and started my damn day by checking stuff onto the computer. Ugh oh well. Baby cute kitten's gone to the couch to snooze which she tummy sitting this morning when I entered the living room. I guess she's being cute as a munchkin enough to be slobbered with kisses and given hugs fests. Aw cute. I snatched cutie for a hug that tolerated that fine then got out of my arms to sit onto the couch. Aw cute. I love that little munchkin bunches to slobber her with kisses and hugs fests. She's so tolerant of her paycheck for free eat around here. Aw cute.\n\n\"Dad you free for driving me around for errands? Please and Thanks!\"\n\nDad has been whining \"I doing you favors without any thanks and pleases.\"\n\nI saying \"Please and thanks!\" which dad said \"I agree with a time of one o'clock.\"\n\nDad by texting whined \"One day a week for driving you around is what I insisted on.\"\n\nI asked him \"what about Saturdays for our errands' outing?\" which he never text emailed me a response. \"Jerk!\" I felt like texting in response to his silence.\n\nMom by phone this morning said \"I'm not coming up today by my car having a problem from driving over a branch I'm sticking close to home.\"\n\nUgh poor Momsy. Aw. Anyway dad arrived five minutes early which he drove me to the town library where I dropped off two finished library books.\n\nOne book is a script book to the movie Prince Bloody featuring Bristol Berlin in that movie nice. I rate that book ten stars in my book lists for amusing me to read it entirely Thursday night for two hours. Also dropped off Anna Alina's Bloody Diaries' series I rate seven stars out of ten. I figured why not finding the book good but the vulgarity I found into the book was inappropriate. Also I finished that book during one morning of me sick with a voiced attack from the bathroom. Ugh.\n\n\"Thursday night into Friday morning I was sick with a voiced attack including multiple cases of bathroom.\" something I whined to mom by phone in the morning \"I don't know what's going on with my stomach.\"\n\nMom said \"I think this case is something else beside you withdrawing from dairy products. I insisted you go seek a physical doctor on this case.\"\n\nI said \"I have an appointment on Thursday.\"\n\nI during my voiced attack avoided using the flush part of the toilet. I only put the tissues into a plastic bag and threw that out in the morning.\n\nUgh I was trying to be accommodating to the downstairs' neighbor whining of my toilet going off \"Your toilet is too noisy for me to withstand tolerant.\"\n\nUgh. I picked up a world war two book I think I should have checked out but I didn't bother despite impressed with the cover of the color red. Oh well. I noticed books with the color red have been attracting my eye enough to check them out from the library.\n\nAlso I picked up some books by Terrific Terri involving the Dollar Shot's small books that are supposedly be fast reading. This is my second time I've checked out those Dollar Shot books and haven't read them the first time I checked them out. I'm determined to read them since I checked them out again. I also picked up a romance novel told by a guy that's seemed interesting but I doubt I would read that damn book. Oh well. That book was an impulsive checkout. Ugh. After library I went to drug store intending to buy a notebook but the line for cashier was too long and made me avoid buying anything as a result. I had no patience to wait for me to buy my notebook I wanted. Ugh hence I gave up and left the store. Dad went into the store for something involving medication but didn't stick around waiting for me instead he went to the car. Ugh I saw him do that rude behavior. After I went grocery shopping which I bought some chocolate milk and something involving reduced bakery cookie cake I thought I would eat it once home. I was craving chocolate hence I bought the drink including craving cookies hence I bought the cookie cake. Ugh I ate the cookie cake at home but not the drink. I once I was home chased the baby cat around intending to slobber her with hugs and kisses but she balked and ran off. Oh well dumb me for that slobbering the kitty behavior that the kitten wasn't in the mood and ran elsewhere. Oh well again. I received my journal today which is good I guess. I have to leave feedback for the seller online their website for selling me that journal. Oh Yay me I guess for getting that journal in the mail today. Ooh goody. Also cute baby kitten wound up onto the couch snoozing that was the reception of kisses onto the top of her cute furry head. She tolerated the kisses fine like the kiss was her paycheck for free eats around here. Poor baby cute kitten. Aw.\n\n\"Thanks from a Fantastic Fan!\" I said as my feedback comment to the seller for selling me that journal Fantastic Fans.\n\nI do hope they bother to leave feedback involving me leaving them feedback.\n\n\"Great to deal with you again!\" they said in response.\n\nI ordered stuff from Bay's Books before and leave high fives feedback but the seller sometimes didn't bother to leave me feedback which annoyed me. This lack of feedback hurt my feelings and made me think they just wanted my money and not thanking me for buying their item. Ugh last time I'm buying something from them for not leaving me feedback for me. Ugh. Also I wound up buying bananas two of them for dinner which I had. I was still itching to eat so off I went nuking up some French fries and ate that too. I think I ate way too much for dinner because I'm stuffed into my stomach. Ugh at least I ate food anyway. I'm like halfway through a notebook for journaling which I meant to go buy another one today but the line to the cashier was too long and I saw dad leave the store and not wait for me. I gave up buying that notebook as a result of long line and dad's rudeness. Ugh sucks. I'll have to wait till later to buy another notebook or maybe from the school's store to journal into. This'll be fun for me to journal when I get around to it from buying notebooks and writing rants and stuff into them. Ugh nice I guess. I use those written word journals to write stuff into them then once I'm done with a notebook I toss it out into the dumpster like symbolizing throwing out problems that bother me. I feel much better after I toss out a journal. Oh Yay for me. I worry with the noises in my head connected to the nerve for number two that I'll wound up with an attack of voice one night and have just peeing in the toilet than anything number two. I had a case of that once which I'm hoping I won't have another case of that again. Ugh. I've had cases of my paranoia aggravated in response to me having sicknesses in the toilet including me sick with voice too. Yuck. I don't care for the nerve to number two to get the voice involved making it hard to do anything like sleeping or resting or anything shitty crummy like that status. Ugh again.\n\nDad came over with papers for me to sign which he had me fill out in the car than in my apartment's home. Poor baby cute kitten hid as a result and hasn't come out of hiding since that damned visit of me in dad's car. Dumb cat dumb animal. Ugh. Also I ordered two journals involving the Fantastic Fans' series. Oh Yay me except the bill was around twenty six dollars. I doubt that mom would like that fact that I spent money when I owe dad money for the cat's vet bill. Ugh a pity anyway.\n\nMom would throw a hissing angry fit in response \"You spending money onto stuff than paying dad back that vet bill!\"\n\n\"Ugh a pity!\" I said.\n\nBaby cute kitten must be hiding in response to me slobbering her head and face with lots of kisses earlier. I guess that the munchkin got fed up with the kisses I was giving her and went to hide somewhere to sleep without me disturbing her cuteness. Poor baby cute kitten aw. I love that little kitty cat galore. I love to slobber kisses onto the baby cat's head and snout. I love to pick her up for hugs and kisses onto her nose. I love it when the baby cat's tolerant of my kisses and hugging moods. I love that little stinker bunches. Cutie came out of hiding and got snatched up for a hugging cuddle. She tolerated the cuddle fine by licking my nose then demanded to be put down which I agreed. Poor baby cute kitten for always picked up for hugs and kisses every where around here. Aw. I love my little munchkin bunches to pick her up for hugs and kisses. I love it when's the baby bundle of fur is so tolerant to my hugging and kissing moods. I love that little kitten mitten galore. She's so cute. Ooh I'm dying to order a new edition of Verona Vander's seven series' books with a different cover on it. I'm not sure of where I should order the books from. Ugh Bay's Books has them for fifty dollars while Barnes and Noble's website has them for sixty five dollars. Ugh not entirely sure which is better quality Bay's Books or Barnes and Noble. Ugh sucks decisions. I think my college days of reading multiple books are ingrained within me because I'm still reading multiple books in progress. The multiple books are a habit I had since college that I'm still taking in present day. Ugh. Also I started book three of the Prince Bloody's series by Anna Alina last night reading like thirty pages of that book. I found that book was rather vulgar with vulgarity languages' uses including terms for insults and sexual innuendo. Ugh no wonder I gave up that series after reading the first two books of Prince Bloody. Ugh I meant to finish that series or just read and finish book three. I meant to go skim the ending of the third book to see how the murder mystery turns out including how the vampires managed to get a soul saved. Ugh again. I'm just finding Prince Bloody's series rather vile and vulgar with the languages and the intended subject too. Hence I don't care too much for the book. Yuck. I might as well consider skimming Prince Bloody then get rest of the books of the series to skim. Ugh. After I skim that book Prince Bloody I aimed to read more of the other books if I'm inclined but I'll be skimming them. I don't think I can tolerate the vile vulgarity into that series. Yuck.\n\n\"Are you forgetting something forgetting some paranoid feeling?!\" sang voice\n\nI was wrong with the attack of voice happening later this week. The attack of voice is happening tonight enough to bother me. I wound up attacked by voice all night into this morning. Yuck. This sucks big time anyway when's I'm to shower soon enough but I'm not sure if I can shower even with the inner noises' blaring. Yuck. Ooh I'm to shower soon enough I can't wait to shower today and avoid the inner noises' blaring bothering me. Yuck. Something I thought of involving the seven series Verona Vander which seemed like fan fiction to me. I cleaned the toilet giving that dirty thing a good scrubbing then I cleaned the dirty spots in the tub but not a whole scrubbing. Ugh I cleaned the sink in the bathroom but not a good job or a whole scrubbing. Oh well. Also I cleaned out Sam's bathroom as in replacing the kitty litter with fresh kitty litter then I did garbage tossing out twice. I tossed out a bag full of tissues I used for when I was sick in the toilet one night. Ugh also tossed out the old kitty litter with the jug and some old food containers too. Oh Yay me. After cleaning I opened a window and am taking advantage of the nice mildness today to have the window open for awhile. Oh nice that today is nice enough to have the window open. Ooh goody I guess. Oh around ten o'clock when local news interrupted their talk show with donkey turnip's address I wound up going to HG channel then craved more chocolate. I went to win's Deli for a sandwich and some food. Everything cost me twenty five dollars and some change including an extra plastic bag full of food to carry than my cloth bag. Ugh. I wound up once I was home piglet onto the food including having cutesy cat hanging around demanding her share. I won't feed the baby cat human food despite she hangs around me begging for some. Dumbbell cat is so stupid when it's comes to human food. Ugh dumb animal dumb cat. Oh well. Speaking of the dumbbell cat she's gone to the couch to snooze cutely and being cute little munchkin when's slobbered with kisses and given hugs fests. She's so cutely tolerant to the hugs and kisses I slobber that furry bundle of fur with. I love that little mouse house galore even whenever she gives off stinky farts. Poor baby cute kitten for always let it rip with those stinky farts of hers. I think she's copying me letting it rip in front of her hence she's letting it rip in my presence including onto my lap. Ugh.\n\nToday's a holiday that's bound to bore me to tears actually. Ugh a story involving the group called High Council's boredom. Pele is a soccer player a human male breaks leg scoring winning goal for team in a playoff college match he learns \"Your team has lost the next match without you there.\"\n\nHe makes deal with the High Council to continue playing after healing from leg injury for his junior and senior years in college.\n\n\"You will serve us with undivided loyalties!\" says High Council.\n\nSoccer player Pele as named said \"I'll serve you once you assure me of healing my leg to play soccer for my junior and senior years' of college including major league playing.\"  \n\"You have our agreement.\" As said by Shad and Onya the speakers of the High Council who added \"Any bus knock him out now.\"\n\nPele gets knocked out unconscious put into a tube and cloned despite Meritanians ordered \"You're to sicken Pele with memories of his clone's playing while he's unconscious.\"\n\nThis is done which healing involves being cloned with the cloned copy having better leg taking human's place. Original human is contained into tube of Hall of Voices at first doesn't realize he's cloned till later. Clone given original memories of playing soccer.\n\nOriginal by thinking \"I'm realizes I'm cloned and trapped into tube status to my disgust.\"\n\nHigh Council play games of chess with soccer players mostly males out of boredom.\n\nI crashed around ten thirty last night which I woke up around two o'clock in the morning with my head singing \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nThe noises of my head were keeping me from sleeping properly hence I had to remove some blankets. I slept without my blankets as a result and cut that inner noises' blaring. Also cutesy cat came and visited me but she didn't stick around for a tummy sits onto my chest instead ran off even after I caught her cuteness. Dumb cat dumb animal. Ugh.\n\nI woke up around three thirty with again noises in my head I wound up laying there for awhile \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nMerra's voice said \"I suggested you get up and read a library book.\"\n\nI didn't bother and wound up resuming sleeping till seven o'clock is when I woke up by daylight and got up. Ugh. I didn't flush the toilet till ten minutes to eight o'clock is when I did that flushing out of respects to the downstairs' neighbor whining of my noisy toilet. Ugh hence I gave up flushing after ten o'clock in the evening. I just put the toilet tissues into the garbage and hope for the best. Ugh. Also last night I eyed one bookcase full of books and thought the hard covers should be on the bottom shelf than on the first shelf. This bottom shelf thought meant my bookcase was top heavy and would tip over hence I moved books around last night for five minutes. Ugh sucks. I showered around eight thirty regular times frame of showering then mom text emailed me.\n\n\"Call Mom!\" she text emailed me.\n\nI wasn't sure if she would come see me today or not despite today's her day off from work. Ugh hence I took my pills fifteen minutes early and ate chips while on the phone with mom.\n\nMom said \"I assured you of coming up.\" which around nine o'clock \"Love you lots.\"\n\nI wound up taking a well deserved nap till like ten thirty woken up by my noisy head chanting \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nUgh hence I got up and wound up nose into an e-book instead of the library's version of that book.\n\nVoice has been picky like Morena \"You having checked out library's books you already own the e-book version of you should forget checking out just read the e-book version.\"\n\nThis is something I'm slow to listen or obey. Ugh.\n\nI wound up reading an e-book by Anna Alina book ten of her Bloody Fever series focused onto one character grown up into an adult female. Anna Alina's series involving vampires' book is rather interesting book so far from what've read and determined to finish. Mom arrived around eleven o'clock something or maybe around eleven thirty I didn't pay attention to the time. Oh well was nose into an e-book while charging e-reader as a result of waiting for mom despite a noisy head. Ugh.\n\n\"Here kitty. Where's she gone?\" Mom tried to get Sam to come out of hiding for petting but the kitty hid while mom was in the apartment.\n\nPoor kitty seemed to have forgotten mom. Oh well.\n\n\"I want to go to the town library.\" Mom said \"I agree to your talk and will drive you.\"\n\nMom and I went to town library where mom said \"I'm staying in the car while you went into the library to drop off books.\"\n\nI picked up two books one involving Anna Alina's involving her Bloody Diaries series called Bloody Fever. I picked up a book by Terrific Terri who's a good author with a book's cover that attracted my eye enough to check out that book. Oh well. Mom and I went to Bi's pizza where I tried tomato salad and pepperoni which tasted okay but rather plain to me and didn't seem interesting anyway worthy of trying again. Oh well I did eat bacon on top of my cheese pizza which tasted okay and rather interesting than plain cheese. Nice after pizza was for pills which I picked up Prozac for eight dollars and fifty cents a part of my payment plan. I used my own dollar money to pay for the pills than card. Ugh.\n\n\"I want to go to Barnes and Noble.\" Mom said \"No I don't feel like driving that lengthy to there.\"\n\nI went grocery shopping after because mom said no to going to Barnes and Noble's bookstore \"I want groceries.\" I said in response which Mom said \"I agree with you.\"\n\nAfter groceries was home where we piglet onto some candy Reese's peanut butter cup in egg shape and some cake brownies from \"Small Wonder.\"\n\nMom tried to get Sam to come out of hiding for petting but Sam didn't bother and remained in hiding \"Here kitty, come out and be petted!\"\n\nMom left for home in disgust \"I'm disgusted with your cat not around for petting.\"\n\nI said in response \"Sorry Momsy Bobs.\"\n\nI emailed Jolica which I said \"Today mom came over for a short outing of library to drop off finished library books including one I don't think I can finish out of losing interests.\n\nI picked up two library books and checked them out. One of the books' so far is rather interesting. I went to lunch at Bi's pizza where I tried bacon topping onto cheese tasted ok even though first time I ate them both together. After that was groceries then home kiss faced the cat which mom dropped me off.\"\n\nJolica read my email right away like she was online and responded with her message regarding bacon on pizza \"I preferred pepperoni on pizza instead.\"\n\nOh nice. After emailing Jolica I emailed Tom a copy and paste of my message to Jolica's to Tom's Chat email option. He wasn't online reading that email. He hasn't been online in six hours according to Chat's email. Ugh sucks. Also sent Morena a lengthy paragraphed email that hasn't yet bothered to read that email or responded. Ugh sometimes Morena sucks with her lack of communication involving Chat's email which sometimes annoys me. Ugh again.\n\n\"Yesterday I went to read and finish Bloody Diaries' book Prince Bloody a library book. I read a bit of yesterday. Also I started last night Prince Bloody which I read around fifty pages. I'm just not sure of when to start reading again. Oh well.\"\n\nMy email copied and pasted to people Jolica responded right away with \"Happy reading.\"\n\nI'm waiting for responses from Morena and Jolica.\n\nI emailed to Jolica \"What are you reading book wise?\"\n\n\"Morena won't respond and she'll ignore you.\" says voice which I heard Merra laughing into my mind like she told a joke again.\n\nOh well again but I'm sure that my cousin newly discovered cousin who's seemed to be a leech involving dad's billionaire status dubbed Christina Christian as she calls herself. Christina Christian emailed me out of the blue \"Hi Victoria it's your cousin Christina Christian cousin of your brother's wife Tamara Mykola emailing you.\"\n\nI didn't know what to say to her in response except my email involving reading Prince Bloody.\n\n\"She will respond\" said voice which Merra said blaring \"You know this Christina Christian is trying to leech money from you out of Horus\" name of Jinks Montreal my assumed father \"Is richly known with money well off. Just don't tell her much of monetary issues but bore her with books. She'll lose interests and start to leech off someone else.\"\n\nI obeyed to do that babbling about books which she has yet to respond. Anyway baby cute kitten has gone to the couch to snooze and be a cute little kitten mitten. I love that little mouse house even whenever she stinks up the cat's bathroom. She's my stinky little kitty. Aw cute I guess.\n\nMom text emailed me at eight thirty in the morning saying \"Have a good day. Call me tonight at seven love you mom.\"\n\nMom's working a work shift from ten o'clock to four thirty this afternoon. Nice I guess. Oh mom did claim by phone \"I'm working overtime to five o'clock if the store is busy from people panicking of the winter storm hitting later today.\"\n\nOh well hate those storms. They cause a panic in the grocery store and gives mom extra overtime work. Ugh Mom loves her job but she's always tired from not able to get enough rest. This is a pity towards mom for always being tired as a tire iron that should be retired. Ugh.\n\nI woke up early as fifteen minutes before seven o'clock. Ugh also I woke up and figured I'll stay up so I did that wakeup.\n\n\"Hi Morena what's mew with you meow?\" I emailed her catching her online she saying \"Howdy Victoria!\"\n\nAnyway I emailed Morena by Chat's email which we were in a chat for thirty minutes from seven thirty to eight o'clock is when she quit chat \"I have to go do errands before work. I'm getting a pair of sports' glasses for me to see when doing archery.\"\n\nNice I started my damn day with rituals involving showering including eating breakfast after I got dressed. Ugh I exchanged my clothes multiple times till I settled onto Georgia labeled clothes of red which I wore while out today. Ugh again.\n\n\"Hi Morena what's mew with you?\" I emailed Morena again who responded but kept chat short as a minute \"I'm working so sorry I can't talk long.\"\n\nUgh I hated that I wanted to talk to Maureen but she wasn't talkative. Ugh terrible big time. I walked to Mickayla's intended to arrive there early as slow as I could till halfway there I realized that pharmacy called my landline last night and left a message.\n\nI figured I would waste time walking to pharmacy \"I'm asking why the pharmacy called my landline?\"\n\nUgh I walked to the pharmacy which turned out to be a pill refill of Geodon pill for again eight dollars and fifty cents. I hate my new health insurance plan involving me paying for pills for a deductible payment plan. Yuck. After pills I walked to Mickayla's for sitting around waiting for Morena to arrive. Morena was late as five minutes and arrived after texting me a message by cell phone.\n\n\"I am on my way.\" She said by cell phone text email.\n\nUgh I didn't save that message instead delete it once she arrived. Morena and I settled onto hot dogs and French fries but seltzer water for her and me pink lemonade drink in a plastic bottle for me. We intended to share the French fries but the waitress or cook got our order wrong by giving our plates individual French fries. Ugh terrible big time when that had to happen.\n\nAnyway Morena wound up saying \"I'm insisting that you stay in the school library as I worked till three o'clock. I noticed you were not happy about that news. You look sad.\" She said when she told me of me staying till three o'clock instead of driving me home right away.\n\nI didn't tell Morena \"My mood was deflated by you insisting I stay at the school till three o'clock instead of going home right away.\"\n\nUgh. Morena went back to work which I went to the school's library and fooled around by computer including visiting the bathroom that smelled of someone smoked into there. This was a yucky smell despite smelling of marijuana yuck anyway. I suspect one of the students using the computer smoked into the bathroom and then resumed their work onto the computer. Ugh yuck.\n\nI managed to buy a book for twenty five cents by this singer named Jewel called \"Dawn's Light.\"\n\nI liked that singer enough to buy her book I saw was selling at the bookcase for books the school library was selling. Nice. After that I coughed up forty cents for printing four pieces of paper from word for printing one story I had in an email to dad. That story is fan fiction to Alina's story I thought I would print it out and have mom read it whenever she's here in my home from Australia I nickname her southern area of the state where she lives.\n\nMorena arrived around three o'clock but she didn't take me to the car right away instead she went to talk to the librarian on some paperwork then scolded me \"You shouldn't shout!\" when I verbalized \"I need help how to log off the computer. I don't know how to log off.\"\n\nUgh Merra was laughing into my mind at the time hence I had to use the librarian's help. After library Morena and I went to her car where she drove me home which I picked up two half full bags of books I was donating. I wound up donating the seven series in paperback including some rejected library books that the town library was giving up for free I didn't feel like reading. Ugh. Oh I ordered some used books off Bay's Books which should be arriving soon enough. I noticed the ordering of items is easy to do but the delivering of things kills me and drives me crazy with impatience. Ugh hence I shouldn't be ordering stuff. Ugh I'm bored to tears with the damn TV including not having someone to talk to.\n\n\"I want to talk to you.\" liked to have Morena available to talk to but she's not onto her computer today.\n\nUgh this lack of someone to talk to sucks big time. Also I threw out the garbage then after that opened a window and aired out the dust into here I stirred up dusting some things on the computer and TV's equipment. Ugh about time I dusted both the equipment of the computer and TV. I organized my Columbia girl dolls. Last night I took out Matilda May doll to put onto a bookcase out of wanting a doll to display.\n\nVoice scolded me \"You shouldn't be displaying Matilda May doll which should be boxed in the closet.\"\n\nThat talk was said despite the doll was in good condition when I put her onto the bookcase for display.\n\nVoice bothered me just prior to me going to bed said \"I insisted on Matilda and Malina dolls being boxed into the closet.\"\n\nVoice also mentioned \"You should be boxing Malina doll too.\"\n\nBoth Matilda and Malina doll were in good condition which voice insisted \"You should box them both for preserving them.\"\n\nI ignored the voice's order and went to bed sleeping till daylight was sensed around seven o'clock is when I woke up.\n\nSometimes when I'm trying to sleep in the morning the voice blares \"Get up!\"\n\nSometimes the voice acts like an inner alarm clock annoying me enough to either ignore or by compulsion I get up and start my damn day. Yuck to have that inner problem.\n\nAlso this morning I woke up and wound up doing what voice ordered me boxing Matilda and Malina's dolls into the closet. I had Kelly Keller doll on display but I didn't care for that damned doll so I boxed her with Matilda and Malina doll.\n\nI wound up taking out both dolls and thought \"I would display Matilda and Malina doll.\"\n\nI don't care for Kelly Keller dolls or that their worse condition than Matilda or Malina doll. I haven't displayed Matilda doll in awhile so I put her out onto a bookcase into my bedroom. I put out onto a bookcase in my hallway to the bathroom a terrible condition doll in older dress and hair braided. I figured I'll put that doll there so I can avoid worrying about knocking her off the bookcase if it's by accident or on purpose. Ugh. I originally put Matilda doll in hallway's bookcase but I kept bumping into that doll when walking to and from the bathroom. I replaced her with a doll just to avoid worrying about knocking that doll accidentally onto the floor or having doll being sliding off the bookcase. I received my books yesterday in the mail. Oh Yay except didn't get my utilities and cable bills. Ugh I was hoping on paying for both bills as quickly as I could then go buy frivolous stuff like e-books of books I liked enough to get them.\n\nI've got some books in the mail I already have copies of I thought \"I'll take those two books with me to the trip to New York City.\"\n\nTrip is in April. Ugh no idea if that's a good idea or not. Oh the school's got a NYC trip in April I'm hoping to go and bring a book with me to read than bringing my e-reader. I think a book would do than an e-reader anyway. I did a book bringing status when I went to school trip to Boston. This was rather nice that I had a book to read while not worrying about battery going dead from the e-reader's status while I'm reading it. Ugh I wasn't near a charging station for that e-reader to be charged hence I went with a paper book instead. Oh well. The trip to Boston wound up involving me visiting a museum with Morena and others of the deaf club members' gang. I had fun but I was rather bored with some of the exhibits. Oh well hence I read a book which I read the last book of the series. I had a time reading that book while on the bus ride to Winsted because I was too sick with the voice. I didn't finish the book instead I finished the part involving one character Jacob as named and skipped the rest of that book instead of finishing it. Ugh. I should have considered finishing that book despite starting that book. This sucks. Mom decided to ruin my mood tonight by being not available for a phone call at eight o'clock. I ranged her up at that time our regular time of eight o'clock.\n\nOperator claimed \"Line is busy.\"\n\nI did ask operator \"Please redial.\"\n\nI still got \"Line is busy\" response from the operator.\n\n\"Thanks.\" I said and I hung up as a result.\n\nUgh mom's phone's manners need work. She could have text emailed me by now but she balked and had a busy signal. Ugh.\n\nI said at six thirty or around that time in a text email message \"Its Victoria its 630pm home awaiting word so text email me mews ASAP.\"\n\nMom balked sending me a message by not texting me yet hence I at eight o'clock ranged her up and received busy signal's talk by operator. Mom sucks.\n\nVoice claims \"Mom's busy signal is on purpose.\"\n\nThis talk makes me think mom deliberately had her line busy so she won't have to talk to me at eight o'clock our regular time frame for talking. I'm just not happy with mom at the moment involving her damned phone silence. Ugh again.\n\nI said \"It's Victoria who's annoyed with your silence. Get off the phone I'm calling you. Text emails me mews ASAP.\"\n\nMom has yet to respond with her apology or that she was on the phone with someone. Ugh mom is so rude with her damned phone manners. Ugh.\n\nAround eleven o'clock in the morning I sent dad a text email message saying \"Hi Dad. How are you? I'm managed to arrange my dolls and books. I hope you got outside for a walk. It's mild out enough to walk with windows open.\"\n\nI wasn't kidding with that mildness temperatures like mom told me by phone around the ten o'clock hour. Ugh.\n\nI saying by text email message to mom in the morning around eight thirty \"Its Victoria its 830am I'm up so text email me mews on your day.\"\n\nMom text emailed me around ten o'clock saying \"Give me a buzz if you can mom.\"\n\nI was on the phone for thirty minutes despite chatting with Morena by cell phone's chat option at the same time. Ugh hence I not chatty with Morena and my mom both when I conversed. Ugh.\n\nMorena \"I ended chat for husband to use my computer.\" while mom and I continued our chat but I wasn't talkative with her.\n\nI was sick with nerve number two getting the voice going at the time and anxious to get off the phone for bathroom. Hence I wasn't talkative which mom hung up onto me as a result of both of us getting off the phone.\n\nI resumed my damn day doing nothing much besides watching DIY network's hour long show \"Building Alaska.\"\n\nI liked Alaska enough to visit that state but I doubt that I would be willing to live there. Ugh living in Alaska would be nice for vacationing but living there for awhile isn't my taste. Oh well. I watched HG channel's \"Fixer Upper\" on their morning marathon till one o'clock is when they went into a thirty minute \"House Hunters\" marathon I didn't care for. Hence I went with DIY network channel's \"Building Alaska\" about homes being built in Alaska. Sounds nice I guess. After that I wound up eating dinner which was partially burnt in the microwave oven. I forced myself to eat that food as a result of needing to eat and not wasting food. Ugh terrible big time to burn my food. Yuck.\n\nAround five fifteen I text emailed dad \"Good evening daddy. How was your day today? I managed journaling today by computer and written word. Also organized junk around here too.\"\n\nDad replied \"Cleaning all day.\"\n\nI think I should have thrown out that burnt food because I've been sick in the toilet with problems involving voice and diarrhea. Yuck.\n\nThe nerve for number two can get the voice going \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nThis talk gets the voice's blaring going on without an end. Yuck again.\n\nMom text emailed me at nine twenty saying \"Call mom.\"\n\nI was on the phone from that time till ten o'clock is when mom hung up our call after we both said our \"I love you\" messages.\n\nUgh I couldn't do anything to phone someone else so I said towards operator before I hung up \"Thanks.\"\n\nI tried to say thank you towards the operator for service before I hang up. Ugh.\n\nAfter I hung up I took my pill and wound up not doing much besides meaning to go to bed and sleep but I'm just not sure of when to sleep. Ugh again.\n\nMom last night by phone \"I apologized for my busy signal at eight o'clock. I was talking to Auntie Sandy who called me for a chat.\"\n\nUgh sucks at least that busy signal wasn't on purpose like what the voice called \"That was on purpose.\"\n\nOh well. Also I went to bed last night and slept till eight fifteen woken up by cutesy cat demanding me up and awake. Ugh I got up but didn't start my day till eight thirty five is when I showered and got dressed. I meant to go take my pills and go eat food. Ugh. I received nothing involving cable and electricity bills in the mail but coupons to Barnes and Noble. Ugh plus a check for nineteen dollars from housing authority group in Waterbury. Ugh sucks. I wound up paying my electricity bill which is a fixed payment price of ten dollars. Oh Yay for that. Also I used the coupons from Barnes and Noble to buy books for a discount. Ugh one of the books I bought were a very expensive hardcover set of seven books in the series that comes in a trunk like box. I used the twenty percent off coupon to buy those books despite already having a set on hand. Ugh. I'm always buying copies of books I have on hand for maybe keeping for either reading or just plain old keeping them for supporting the authors' works. Oh well this sucks.\n\nAnyway mom would throw an angry fit \"I hate it in response to you buying those seven books set for over hundred dollars despite saving ninety nine dollars using the twenty percent off coupon.\"\n\nUgh. I doubt that mom would be proud of me for buying those books.\n\nMom has brought up the subject \"You owing dad money for cat's vet bill like owing him one hundred and twenty dollars you still have to pay him for.\"\n\nUgh hence mom's insisting \"You not buy any books or anything expensive till you've paid dad off first.\"\n\nUgh terrible.\n\nI didn't tell mom by phone last night \"I bought books using that coupon from Barnes and Noble.\"\n\nI only told her \"I got coupons from that bookstore.\" but that was it involving telling mom that I bought books.\n\nUgh. I think my big mouth would one day tell mom that I bought books and make her upset as a result. Ugh this sucks big time. Ugh again.\n\nAlso a set of seven series' books \"You ordered off Bay's Books wound up declared shipped.\" but the seller didn't give a tracking number.\n\nUgh this sucks anyway. I don't know what to make of that seller anyway with their attitude involving money and selling books. Ugh.\n\nI wound up pinged by Morena who kept chat short as five minutes she went to resume work. I don't know what to make of Morena and her attitude involving chatting with me. Ugh terrible.\n\nThe books seven I ordered which the seller included a tracking number after awhile of slow response.\n\nThe seller even left me \"Five stars too for buying our product!\"\n\nUgh nice I guess. I don't care for the slow response to mail me the books. Yuck.\n\nAlso mom noticed my cardboard box of seven's books in hardcover on a visit to my apartment once she asked me \"Where you got that box?\"\n\nI told her \"Barnes and Noble for one hundred dollars.\"\n\nMom said \"You got me mad at you for owing dad money. I wasn't happy with you spending that money onto useless stuff.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nI did admit to mom \"I bought a memoir by a singer for twelve bucks.\" Mom said \"I wasn't happy about that buying.\"\n\nUgh that book was bought with a coupon discounted from original fourteen dollars to twelve dollars.\n\nUgh. \"I wasn't so happy about that news.\"\n\nAlso I talked to mom by phone last night which she assured me \"I'm coming up to see you today.\" which she did scaring me in the bathroom.\n\nI was in the bathroom washing my hands when mom tapped me onto the side freaking me out. Ugh not nice of mom to do that damned joke. Ugh again. Anyway mom brought a bag of sneakers for me to wear to use for my own two feet when walking around town. I put on one pair and wore than while I was out with mom till the shoe store is when I exchanged shoes. Mom and I went to Dublin Donuts for a lunch which was paid by mom's gift card including our drinks which was water like mom. I picked orange juice but mom picked water so I copied her and took out water instead. After lunch was to the town library where I picked up some paper versions of e-books I currently have onto e-reader. That e-reader is getting useless for me to use. I can't seem to get internet connection anywhere else than my home with that thing. Plus the battery of that thing keeps going down too much that I'm always charging that thing every damn day. Yuk. One of the paper books I picked turned out to be a seven day loaner I doubt that I would be reading or bothered to read anyway. I might as well return that thing to the town library unread out of that the book is a seven day loaner. I don't care for seven day loaners. They feel like homework assignment for a book report. Yuck terrible big time when's I checked that book out without realizing this crummy fact that the book is a seven day loaner. Ugh. After the town library was to a shoe store next door where I found a pair of baby blue sneakers I wore and tried on. I found the shoes fit me fine and were on sale for like almost seventy bucks. Mom used the trust fund's checkbook to pay for the shoes. Nice. The trust fund's checkbook mom seems to have only pays for me and my needs than anything else which my cutesy cat isn't qualified to use the money to pay for her needs. That trust fund totaling around ten thousand dollars is for me only and my needs. Ugh. Once mom and I finished the shoe store we went back to the car to drop off my older pair of shoes while I wore the newer pair of shoes. They worked fine for me. Also mom and I went to store where I found three pairs of pants to try on. I tried to fashion show them to mom but she wasn't around in the dressing room's area. Ugh I had to try on those pants by myself in the dressing room. One pair of pants turned out to be leggings. Another pair was sweats while the third was too big for me to wear. I wound up picking two pairs of pants that fit me fine which mom paid by trust fund's checkbook. Nice like I said. We after the store where mom bought a tee shirt in v-necked style for me to wear which I didn't try on Mom used her own money for the items from the store. I kept on noticing one customer kept on hanging around me spying onto me. I think my open sweater jacket was making the security of the store hang around me too much. Ugh.\n\nAfter the church was to church for confession which mom explained to the priest doing confession \"She's deaf and would need to write down the words of her confession.\"\n\nThe priest's understand of that talk.\n\nI wrote into my journal for the priest to read \"Lied about buying items when I should save my money.\"\n\nPriest wrote \"Please say the prayers of Lance Richard one time each. Are you sorry for your sins?\"\n\nI didn't say anything physically only nodded my head and gave a thumbs up.\n\nThe priest said something blessing like towards me then that ended confession \"I bless you.\"\n\nMom had her turn at confession which she went to sit down and do some praying after confession was to grocery store where we bought cupcakes from the reject bakery bin including ice cream. Mom bought her version of ice cream which I did the same thing copying her but I bought orange juice with my food. Oh well. We after the grocery store went to my home where I had a cupcake but balked eating ice cream. I didn't feel like eating ice cream. Ugh Mom piglet onto cupcakes and ice cream by bowl including using plastic silverware.\n\nMom insisted \"You to accompany me to church.\" which we sat around wasting time for four o'clock mass at church.\n\nMom tried a nap by armchair while I journaling by notebook. Baby cute kitten hung around being playful and being cute like a kitten. She clawed the armchair with mom sitting into it from the back. I had to chase her off which she ran off and hid behind the couch. Dumb cat dumb animal wound up playing chase games with me chasing her around while mom napped by armchair.\n\nMom ten minutes to four o'clock declared \"It was time for church.\"\n\nI brought along my bible to read which I only got to Genesis' part when mass was over with. The bible I brought with me had boring stuff explanations of the bible and translations in the beginning part than starting with Genesis' part. Ugh. Also my head was singing too much while I was at church. I swear I give off a noise in response to me suffering from a voiced attack of voice. Yuck.\n\nVoice was going \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nThe voice was chanting that over and over while I tried to pay attention to the mass in church including reading my book the bible I brought along. I found the paranoia wasn't much this time to my relief. Oh Yay for that.\n\nI took communion which \"I don't want to take that.\" but I took it from the priest by hand instead of having the man of cloth sticking it into my mouth.\n\nI habitually have the priest or whoever gives communion stick that into my mouth but this time I took my hand out for that situation. Ugh. After church mom and I went next door to pizza which I ordered bottled water and mom got soda with caffeine in it. Ugh mom took a caffeine pill in front of me despite I tried to take my pills involving mental health and hormones while mom was in the bathroom. Oh well. Mom whined of the pizza taking forever to cook which had bacon on top of the cheese pizza. The pizza left me gulping lots of water as a result of how hot it was. Ugh terrible big time when mom being hungry gobbled up her pizza but picked onto me when I ate my pizza slow.\n\nMom said \"I was in a hurry to get home before sunset. I don't like night driving and wanted to get home before it was nightfall.\"\n\nUgh poor Momsy. We both after our pizzas chewed gum and then mom drove me home which she washed her keys and glasses into my kitchen sink and used my bathroom then she left for home. I wound up turning on the TV to news but I didn't pay attention to that news because of being sick in the toilet with number two that made me nervous. Ugh I wound up around six o'clock going to HG instead and going onto the computer.\n\nI sent a lengthy email to Morena which I talked about my day with mom using multiple paragraphs.\n\nI sent an email to Jolica who responded with one word \"Cool.\"\n\nUgh I emailed a cousin an answer to her question involving a finished library book I finished. I tried to explain that book to Christina including the series in my email but I doubt I was very good explaining that book. Ugh. I can't seem to explain books towards people much in emails or same in person either. I can read a book but explain the contents to people aren't what I had in mind. Oh well.\n\n\"I spent today hanging out with mom eating meals like lunch and dinner. Also we shopped for some stuff like sneakers and pants including tops from target. After that was church for confession and mass. I had a good day today.\"\n\nThis is my email to Jolica by Chat's email which she responded with one word \"Cool.\"\n\nI sent that email to Christina but took out the word \"Today\" and replaced it with \"Saturday.\"\n\nUgh Christina was online but didn't respond to my email. Ugh again.\n\nAlso I sent a whining email to Morena of my mood and the same to Jolica of my depressed mood. Ugh this sucks when I whine to people and their not available for me to whine to about my mood. Ugh. I updated my online journal twice. One entry was a page length involving how bossy the voice was with the American girl dolls. The other entry was on my outing with mom on Saturday.\n\nI did delete the fact \"Mom paid for my pants and shoes using a checkbook to the trust fund.\"\n\nI didn't feel like broadcasting that I had a trust fund mom used to pay for my items. Ugh I also deleted the vulgarity words I used into the original journal which I deleted out names I changed to protect peoples' privacies including the same for mom which I don't say what name mom goes by.\n\nI just call mom by the word of \"Momsy\" or some mother like labeled name. Oh well.\n\nI wound up watching soap operas out of that was out of service till almost three o'clock is when I went to see if the channel was in service. The channel is showing a talk show at the moment involving this lunatic guy who's a closet comedian. I don't care for closet comedians or lunatics who are acting inappropriate for their ages like this guy in his talk show.\n\nHe's in his sixties and tries to be funny which makes me think \"What an idiot!\"\n\nI don't care for this guy's show and his antics. Plus he never helps gay or lesbian couples find love instead he focuses onto heterosexual couples. I swear this guy is anti-gay and anti-lesbian hence he's not helping either one find love matches. I just don't care for that guy's show for not helping lesbians and gays find love. He's more into heterosexual couples instead. What an idiot like I said. Ugh.\n\nI submitted a story earlier to a fantasy and science fiction magazine and got rejected today. Ugh makes me feel down in the dumps when I get rejected by the editors of that magazine. Ugh again. I feel like no matter what works I submit to that magazine their always going to reject me and my work. I feel like they got my name onto a rejection list to always reject period. Ugh sucks big time. Also I feel like the editors of that magazine like to reject people's work out of that the rejection gives them a kicking feeling of a high when they do that rejection. Hence their doing that damned rejection with me and my work. Yuck. I'm to do laundry today once I shower and go eat breakfast. Ugh can't wait to go wash and dry my clothes plus get my new pants washed and dried too. Ugh about time anyway. I submitted poems to that magazine and they still rejected me. I read the magazine's poems and found nothing to make sense involving what their looking for. The poems I read seemed to be based off famous authors' of poetry than anything else. Ugh that magazine for rejecting my poems. Ugh. Also annoying is when I keep on submitting work to that magazine I'm still rejected. Yuck I keep on submitting poems to that damn magazine and they keep on rejecting me. I swear the poems I submitted were good but their looking for name authors to submit poems than unknowns to submissions of poems.\nI talked to Momsy by phone for around an hour this morning.\n\nMom whined \"I skipping work due to a sinus headache I felt I shouldn't have called out sick but gone to work anyway.\"\n\nPoor Momsy!\n\nAlso I whined to mom \"My latest rejection of an Edenia like fan fiction story.\" which mom said \"I approved of that rejection.\"\n\nJeez mom for that attitude. Ugh.\n\nMom said \"I found the Edenia story inappropriate for you to submit to a magazine for money or acceptance. I think you were plagiarizing people's work like the author's work involving the Edenia's series.\"\n\nUgh again when's I'm depressed and down in the dumps at the moment that despite baby cute kitten's gone to hide somewhere and avoid me. Ugh dumb cat dumb me for slobbering the poor kitty with kisses and hugs fests to feel better. Ugh sucks. Also I'm to walk to school for the deaf club meeting which I'm just not entirely sure if I should go or not. I might as well go anyway and fidget spin while I wait for deaf club meeting to start. Ugh something amusing I guess for me to socialize today. Ugh again.\n\nI went to deaf club meeting today with the voice going off attacking me \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nYuck.\n\nI'm just not entirely sure if mom would be talkative by phone tonight despite she text email me \"I'm working five o'clock to nine o'clock tonight.\"\n\nUgh. Also I wound up since I'm home sick with the voice going off involving number two. Yuck again to have that problem. Ugh.\n\nI spent all afternoon reading and finishing this book borrowed from the town library which I finished. Oh Yay me. I rate that book three stars out of ten stars for creeping me out involving a lunatic acting out murders from a book a fiction book.\n\n\"I found the book rather icky with the themes.\" by email today Jolica said \"I found that subject interesting enough to consider reading the book.\"\n\nYuck but I did tell her who wrote that book. Also around Dellen's show I finished that library book I rate three stars online website. I wound up with the voice going as a result of me finishing that book. Ugh I find I was sweaty and rather hot from finishing that book. I don't care for the damned sweatiness when I finished that book. Yucky status anyway! I watched Dellen's show then saw most of the local news till like six thirty is when they went into world news I hate watching. World news always has doomed and gloom news I don't care for anyway. Yuck again!\n\nAlso I got text emailed by mom around seven thirty to phone me at \"You to phone me at eight thirty.\" which I did that after I read for an hour a book I finished that book later tonight. Oh Yay me.\n\nI talked to mom for fifteen minutes I whining \"I wanting to finish reading that Harry Potter book.\" which mom was understand allowed me to get off the phone.\n\nOh Yay. I was sick with the voice at the time around eight o'clock hence I sick in the toilet with problems plus Sam tried to get onto my lap to comfort me but I couldn't withstand her. I wound up around eight thirty phoning mom even while sick with the voice attacking me. I talked to mom for a short time then after that went to back to that book which I finished tonight. Oh goody and Yay for me.\n\nI shook off the voiced attack last night around eleven o'clock but I didn't go to bed till around eleven thirty with the heat on low. Oh well. Also I woke up around six thirty for bathroom which I didn't flush the toilet but resumed sleeping till eight fifty is when I woke up from a weird dream. I don't remember what weird dream I had as a result of not writing that down. Ugh I remembered a weird Edenia series' story weird dream involving one female character named Natalia Mahalia herself turning out to be a cloned copy of a deceased baby child by her mother Empress Anastia Juliet Palina Bornova. I think I dreamed of a scene involving Natalia. Oh well. The scene involved traveling through a hospital setting and reaching a tube room holding tubes of water that's large sized for adults to be contained into them Natalia following her mother with people through that area. I wound up dreaming of me into a bathroom or a waiting room waiting for something while reading a magazine. I think I used the facilities of a hospital room then sat down waiting for someone to enter the room like a doctor's examination room. I don't get it that dream anyway.\n\nI wound up sick with a problem involving number two and the bathroom triggering the voice to go off bothering me. Yucky problem to have! That weird dream of me in a doctor's room using the bathroom and waiting for someone was from me staying in the hospital for four days while sick with a problem. Ugh I just remembered that fact. Ugh. I noticed I get memories into weird dreams sometimes that turned out to be something else than I remembered. Oh well. On Monday night the twenty-fourth I was sick with voice attacking me all night into the morning of Tuesday morning. I wound up reading multiple books as a result of me sick with the voice and managed to finish one library book that was due in a week's time frame. Oh Yay me. Anyway I'll find out on Tuesday April second of I hope my number two sample providing results of what's going on within my inner system. Ugh I can't wait to find out and find out what the hell's going on within me. This sucks when I have a doctor's appointment that day which I hope to find out the results of that testing status.\n\nYesterday I bugged dad \"I want to do errands outing.\" which he text emailed me \"Later.\"\n\nI bugged dad around ten o'clock \"I want to do errands' outing.\"\n\nI bugged him again around noon something he sent me a whining texting message \"I agreed to pick you up at two o'clock for errands.\"\n\n\"Ugh library is closed at two o'clock.\"\n\nDad arrived with his all black car that's black inside and outside which I said to him \"Nice vehicle.\"\n\nAnyway I went to the town library which was closed around two o'clock so I dropped off a library book and donation into the library's book drop. I dropped off a library book I doubt I would read including donating a book I don't think I'll read which I dropped them both off. Ugh. After library was groceries which I got some pills for free but they weren't enough to fill in a month's time frame. Ugh also I got shampoo two bottles for seven bucks which was on sale buy two for seven dollars. Oh Yay me. I got two Terrific Terri's books both in paperback I was admiring online Barnes and Noble's website I aimed to get around to reading when I do. One book was a knockoff of another author's writing which was just some advertising to make people buy that book and read it. Ugh terrible. Also I found toothbrushes' coupon from my receipt which I used to buy four toothbrushes in a package on sale for three bucks discount. Oh Yay me. I used money into my safe to pay for everything in drug store including a little of my card's money too. Oh well for me. I went grocery shopping after that which I bought lots of food totaling fifty two dollars and some change leaving what's left of my food stamp card's money totaling in ten dollars and some change. Ugh. Also I put the safe's money into the bank out of not keen of keeping money into my safe. I don't feel right keeping money in huge amounts into my safe. I preferred to keep jewelry instead. I just do.\n\nI told that fact to mom by phone last night \"I don't like keeping money into book safe.\" Mom took the news well. Oh well a pity. It was a good thing I put that money into my bank account because Barnes and Noble had a sale of seven series e-books from each six dollars and ninety nine cents to one dollar and ninety nine cents each. I took advantage of that sale to buy those e-books which I already have the paper copy of. Oh well.\n\nVoice and Morena would be picky onto me \"You buying books you already have a copy of.\"\n\nLike me buying e-books I already have a paper copy of something that I get pickiness from Morena. Voice picks onto me for checking out paper copies of e-books I already have downloaded into my e-reader.\n\nUgh can't seem to stop that pickiness' talk.\n\nI wound up using the heat on last night which I should have turned that off before I went to bed. Ugh. I got a hot flash with sweatiness during my sleep hence I had to turn off the heat and sleep without that on. Ugh. Also I woke up around midnight for that hot flash and turning off the heat. Yuck to turn off the heat but I was hot flashing with sweatiness. Ugh terrible big time.\n\nI slept fine till seven thirty is when I woke up with voice blaring at me \"Get up! Call mom!\"\n\nI didn't bother and resumed sleeping till eight fifty which I started my damn day. Ugh.\n\nMom text emailed me around nine o'clock a minute before that saying \"Call me please.\"\n\nUgh I missed that text email message till ten o'clock is when I checked the cell phone for charged status. Ugh this stink big time when I miss mom's texting messages. Ugh.\n\nI talked to mom for five minutes which mom ended phone call and I went to do some chores around here. I threw out two finished notebooks of journaling I finished yesterday. Oh Yay me for finishing those notebooks. Ooh goody. Also one notebook took me seven hours to write the remaining pages into it to finish that notebook which I was done around four thirty. Ugh I had another notebook in my purse I was a few pages from finishing so I finished that too after dinner. Ugh nice. I threw out the notebooks this morning and noticed the lot was empty of cars except one useless car that's not in operation. I figured that I would do laundry which I did that chore today and finished around twelve thirty. I have to put away my clothes when I get the chance to do that putting away chore.\n\nI wound up on the phone with an operator that refused to cooperate with connecting me with mom. Ugh hence I blame that operator as a result of balking to connect me with mom like I hoped would do. Ugh.\n\nI wound up with the voice going off tonight \"Mom's to text email me a response for phoning tonight.\"\n\nI tried to phone her at seven o'clock but she ignored me according to the operator. I'm not entirely sure of when mom would respond to my texting message tonight for a phone call. I hope the time is soon enough because I'm going to be sick all night with these bathroom sicknesses. I wound up on the phone with mom for a short time till like I had to get off the phone out of suffering from the voice attacking me at the time. Ugh. I wound up out with Ted, Mars and Rachel to the zoo. I went as simple as that to that zoo. Yesterday I put on my black ski sweater and pink pants including my blue sneakers which I wore to an outing with the deaf club members' gang to the zoo. Oh Yay me.\n\nTed got Rachel to pick me up \"I got confused to which car was Rachel's in the lot.\"\n\nUgh terrible big time. Oh well.\n\nAnyway Rachel drove to Mars's house which she picked Mars up who slept in the car ride to the zoo. Ugh I didn't sleep but I tried a few times. Ugh again. Arrived at the zoo which the parking lot was crowded full of people and hardly any room around for Rachel to park her car. Ugh Rachel had to park her car in an adjoining park as a result of the crowded parking lot. Ugh. Also I wound up eating two cheese sandwiches around eleven o'clock before Rachel picked me up around noon.\n\nI shouldn't have eaten those sandwiches \"I didn't want to whine of needing to eat.\" while I was there at the zoo. Ugh again.\n\nI went to the zoo which Christina helped me \"There's a discount for the price of admission.\"\n\nNice of her which we paid for our tickets then walked around inside the park. Nice. I saw nothing involving cheetahs but I saw cat like animals that were tigers and leopards. Ugh I was hoping on viewing a cheetah but I didn't at all. Oh well. I saw multiple wolves of different colors including a red panda I could have snapped a phone photo of but I didn't bother. I also saw a bald eagle too. I even snapped three phone photos of a tiger sitting down resting. Cute I guess.\n\nAfter that we went to eat which I had two peanut butter cookies and tried Christina's mozzarella sticks but Maureen being critical of me being lactose intolerant \"You to quit eating that including eating the rest of my French fries.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nThe park closed around four o'clock to my relief Morena said \"I all decided to go to a restaurant in another town that had a deaf head cook for eating more food.\"\n\nNice.\n\nI while there had garlic bread than any of the cheese pizza which Morena \"I'm still picky onto you being lactose intolerant. I insisted you focused onto something else than the pizza.\"\n\nWe after eating Rachel drove Mars to Al's where Mars grocery shopped which I journal by notebook while in the car ride to Torrington. Mars didn't take long but he fell asleep again in the car ride to the grocery store including to his house where Rachel dropped him off. Ugh poor Mars for not sleeping much. After Rachel dropped Mars off was dropping me off which I wound up sick in the toilet with problems that triggered the voice to go off bothering my paranoia. Ugh I talked to mom by phone during that status for like ten minutes.\n\nMom let me go off the phone she thinking \"You was tired from the walk in the zoo.\"\n\nI didn't tell her that I was sick with the voice going off. Ugh I don't tell mom by phone of me sick with the voice going off mostly. I don't bother.\n\n\"I'm working onto a story.\" and mom falls for that trick always and we hang up.\n\nUgh. I was sick in the toilet till like two thirty is when I felt something else than number two so I watched TV till three o'clock is when I went to lie down. Sam got my closet door open during me asleep while I was in bed trying to shake off the voice's attack. Yuck. I noticed the voice chants whenever I'm tired from doing nothing but watching TV including editing stories. Ugh something I noticed and didn't care for anyway. Ugh.\n\nAlso I flushed the toilet around three twenty in the morning when I shouldn't have bothered. I'm terrible big time with that toilet's flushing after the neighbor complained of my noisy toilet. This is a yucky problem to have but I went to bed and slept till seven o'clock woken up by my noisy head. Ugh. I swear I couldn't sleep much after seven o'clock hence I getting up and sending email to Jolica who responded right away with a facial picture of hearts in eyes. Cute I guess. Also I emailed Christina who's not online but will respond later whenever she's free. I noticed that Christina responds online the computer than onto her cell phone. This is something I noticed I do towards people emailing them in Chat's email like Morena I tend to text email by cell phone in Chat's email. Oh well.\n\nUgh I talked to Morena by chat's option which she cut me off whining of \"My keyboard not working properly.\"\n\nJeez Maureen! I talked to mom around ten thirty for around thirty minutes.\n\nMom was boring me with her talk \"I'm itching to get off the phone to bug dad for a drive to library.\"\n\nUgh mom agreed to get off the phone which I hung up. Oh Yay.\n\nAlso I text emailed dad \"I want a ride outing request.\" who said \"I'm out of having physical therapy.\"\n\nUgh jeez dad. I wound up around eleven thirty after eating some food walking to drug store by myself while wearing a winter coat.\n\nUgh I tried to get a prescription for hormones refilled by the pharmacist who claims \"The twenty first is when that'll be filled.\"\n\nUgh. I got my mental health prescriptions including a strawberry like seltzer water drink I drank outside the store on the way to the school's café for a sandwich. I had peanut butter and jelly sandwich wrapped in plastic then after that I had that strawberry water drink too. Also I was sick in the toilet with problems that made it hard to walk to church Saint Joseph's for mass bulletin or to the town library. I walked home instead. Ugh. I should have walked to the town library because dad's proved to be too lazy to drive me tonight to there.\n\nI called library and asked them \"You to set three books aside for Me.\" which they said \"We did that by email.\"\n\nThanks to dad's unwillingness to drive me I have to wait till Saturday to get those damned books. I'm dying to read those damned books but I can't because of dad's laziness and that tomorrow the library is closed due to an eatery like holiday.\n\nI got home and wound up with the voice singing which gave me a bit of a paranoia attack. I went onto the computer and shook that off. Yuck.\n\nI around four o'clock wound up with the voice chanting \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nMostly the voice chanting that over and over till like four thirty is when I was sick in the toilet with a problem hence that cut the voice's chanting off. Yuck. After voice's chanting I at five o'clock took my pills I got from the drug store. I was out of pills for evening including emergency supply for dinner. Hence I had to walk to the drug store by myself for pills refills pickup. Ugh. Also I didn't eat much healthy food for dinner. I had crummy waffles two of them including some chips from a blue bag that's some Spanish like chips. Ugh I also had water like I've been having with my meals than anything else. I haven't had anything to drink besides water from the sink in the kitchen as my drinks. Ugh also while at the drug store I settled for some seltzer water with a strawberry like flavor which I'm not sure if that's got sugar in that drink or caffeine like substance. Hence I didn't have anymore of that drink for dinner or for snack. I had a snack earlier around one thirty during a Nashville talk show that's seems to be filmed six months ago and aired six months later. They show summertime stuff in their show when's the time's not even summertime but wintertime. Yuck.\n\nToday's a holiday involving Lance Richard the god king. That's nice I guess.\n\nLast night I text emailed dad \"You home?\" which he was with his question \"What do you want?\"\n\nI said \"Library to pickup books their closed tomorrow.\"\n\nDad agreed by texting \"Ten minutes.\"\n\nDad wound up driving me to the town library where I originally checked out three to read but there were two books at the checkout desk I saw that attracted my eye so I checked them out. Ugh nice.\n\nThree of the books I checked out were by an auto buy author I favor but I haven't yet bought her e-books of her latest series yet. Oh well I meant to buy them using a gift card but I don't want to. I prefer to wait till those e-books are on sale for half off discount instead of buying fifteen bucks for them. Ugh. Also I saw two books on the checkout desk that attracted my eye enough to check them out. Oh Yay for that checking out. Oh well. I went home and wound up exchanging my clothes to pajamas then cutesy cat lap sat me. I wound up around seven thirty starting that book Verona Vander's latest book in her seven series. I only read that book for thirty minutes till eight o'clock is when I ranged mom up. Oh around the seven o'clock hour I wound up with the voice going off. Yuck. Hence I had to read a book out of trying to avoid the inner noises' blaring. Yuck again! I was on the phone with mom till close to nine o'clock is when we got off the phone. I didn't do much last night other than journaling by notebook and watching the stuff on HG channel involving house flipping in Las Vegas. Ugh boring show. I hate house flipping. I don't care for house flipping. Yuck. I prefer HG to not to show house flipping series on their channel but interior design shows instead. Ugh. HG used to show interior design shows and now their cancelled all of them. The channel is showing house flipping themed shows including house hunting themed shows too. How boring! I hate house hunting including house flipping. I don't care for either one of them situations onto HG channel. Yuck. That channel seemed to be showing house flipping than anything else nowadays. Ugh this stinks.\n\nI crashed around ten o'clock and slept like a log till woken up by the voice going off \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nUgh plus cutesy cat was cuddled bumming me at the time which made it hard to wake up and start my damn day.\n\nUgh I woke up around nine forty in the morning to mom's text email \"Call Mom!\" including Morena's email.\n\nUgh again. I wound up onto the phone with mom in my pajamas which I talked to mom till ten fifteen is when she got the operator to give the stop keying symbol. I hung up and went online finding Morena wasn't online for me responds to her email message. Ugh.\n\nI wound up with a weird dream \"Me packing my clothes and items into red suitcases.\" something I told to mom by phone.\n\nI'm not sure of what Mom thought of that weird dream \"I took that dream as good news.\"\n\nUgh. After phone call I finally showered and took my pills then ate crappy crummy foods out of cravings to chew something. Ugh I've been eating foods non stop since ten thirty in the morning since I took my pills. I also have been eating dairy foods too. Ugh again.\n\nI emailed Morena and like I told her \"I was eating out the remainder of my foods before I go buy more.\"\n\nUgh something I think this is bound to make me sick in the toilet with problems including an all night marathon of being sick with voice and number two too. I emailed multiple people which only Jolica responded with a short message reply.\n\nUgh Jolica is always short with her messages to me \"I know.\"\n\nChristina is hardly online to reply to my messages and so is Lizard Lizette who's named Lizette but insisted on the nickname of Lizard. I don't know what to do today besides slobbering the baby cat with kisses and hugs fests out of unable to get outside walking around enjoying today's weather. The weather is warm outside for windows open but rather cloudy and gloomy outside. Yuck. This weather is bound to depress me actually. Ugh.\n\nI read and finished Charisma Chic's book yesterday afternoon. I found that book rather informative involving interior design. Ooh goody I guess. I rate that book ten stars out of ten stars for being informative involving interior design including Charisma explaining her interior design choices for rooms. Nice.\n\nAfter that I started again \"Nana's Kisses.\" by Janna Japan a book I've been reading galore and having trouble trying to finish. Ugh I think I read one hundred pages of that book till I got one hundred and forty five pages left to finish. Oh Yay me.\n\nAlso I read \"Children's Blood\" by Anna Alina's Bloody series last week on Friday till I got one hundred pages of that book and decided to go take a break for reading something else instead. Oh well.\n\nI started before dinner last night this library book \"President's Tester.\" by January Japan I'm not sure is a relation to Janna Japan despite the same last name. I found that book rather interesting from what I'm reading. I've read and skimmed \"The President's Son\" by Japan because I read that book years ago and never bothered to get around to reading the \"President's Tester\" book second in the four book series. Oh well.\n\nAnyway I finished \"Children's Blood\" a book I read entirely in one sitting on Friday while sick with the voice's attack and the bathroom. Ugh this sucks to be sick with the voice and bathroom. Ugh hence I up for hours reading a damn book. Also these voiced attacks hitting me have hit on Fridays for two weeks and kept me up for hours. Ugh sucks when's that has to happen. Ugh plus I'm not looking forwards to Friday this week because Saturday is the New York City trip by bus. I'm not so sure if I can sleep on Friday night into Saturday morning. Ugh. I might be up for hours reading a damn book out of excitement to sleep including me sick in the toilet with problems. Ugh again.\n\nMy big mouth talked to mom by phone \"I buying four signed Charisma Chic's books around seventeen dollars each.\" which mom said \"I scolded you for buying those books. I think you should have just bought one than four.\"\n\nUgh mom said \"I scolded you of this buying.\"\n\nMom has been on my case \"You to save money for the cat's vet bill including for the doctor's bill.\"\n\nThe bill involving doctor's is around one hundred and forty dollars.\n\nYuck mom said \"I expected you to pay for the bill entirely yourself.\"\n\nUgh hence I'm to do that yuck again.\n\nAlso I've checked my bank account \"I'm discovered I've got one hundred and fourteen dollars left to pay for any cat vet bills my cutie requires.\"\n\nUgh mom whined by phone \"You having to pay for the cat's vet bill by yourself without any help from dad or anybody.\"\n\nUgh I have a trust fund mom uses to pay for my stuff but she told me \"Trust fund's money won't go to your cat. You'll have to pay for yourself out of your own money. Hence trust fund I uses to pay for you is for you only and not for my cat.\"\n\nUgh again. I hate Chat's email service because some of the stuff I see post online are inappropriate for viewers to view. Mostly that sexual themed stuff I don't care to view very much which includes porn and crap. I hate Chat's because of this stinking porn. Yuck. I hate being online Chat's involving seeing inappropriate stuff I don't care for. I hate that website to use for posting links for my stories that get ignored and not liked Ugh. I hate Chat's because hardly anyone likes my posts. This is the same online my blog's website which hardly anyone likes my posts or messages.\n\nI say \"Ugh to the people for their ignorance. This sucks.\"\n\nYesterday was the ten year anniversary of adopting cutesy cat into my home. The munchkin's birth date is in July starting on July eighth than any other date because the vet accurately figured out her age and figured she's born in July. Cute I guess. I didn't do much yesterday other than skimming the ending parts of \"Nana's Kisses.\" a book that's giving me trouble reading with a lack of motivation to finish. Ugh hence I skimmed the ending as a result. Yuck. Also I wound up reading a bit of \"President's Tester\" till I realized there was something involving controlling people with mind control that creepy me out. I couldn't finish that damn book as a result or skim the ending parts.\n\nI gave up that book out of creepy out \"You should have finished that book.\" as blared by voice.\n\nI finished \"Bloody's Bone\" by Anna Alina which I rate an eight for amusing but the ending part bothered me and left me a bit bored to tears. Ugh hence that rating including that rating of four out of five stars online a website. Ugh. Anyway I did get my signed Charisma Chic's books in the mail.\n\nOoh Yay for that but I admitted to the priest later for confession \"I lied to mom by phone on the prices of those four books I ordered.\"\n\nMom said by phone \"I think you ordered underneath ten dollars each.\"\n\nPriest wrote \"Why did you lie to mom?\"\n\nI wrote \"The books all cost me one hundred dollars total than the prices of forty bucks like I lied to mom.\"\n\nUgh terrible when I've been going to this church for confession to the Lance Richard god king order in the city. I walk to that church and wait my turn for confession which is in a private room of a priest with a facial appearance of my father Jinks Montreal himself always displaying black beady eyes and never speaking to me. The priest seemed to have taken a vow of silence to me for he's always writing down his words in cursive handwriting including never bothering to sign language his words. Oh well.\n\nMom said by phone once \"I've been seeing this priest for confession at Jacinta's Church which is on Main Street in Win's Ville which you should go.\"\n\nI went out of some compulsion like feelings of Meritanians manipulating me to go.\n\nMerra said by mind talk to me blaring \"Just go!\"\n\nI wound up hit with a compulsion to go as a result which I walked to Jacinta's church and went inside. The church looked like it was formerly used for a forgotten god or something I'm not sure of what god but I suspect the High Council. I found people waiting in line to a room which I joined them followed by them going inside one at a time. This priest I saw was twin to my father's looks by facial appearance but hair was different instead of long black hair had short curly balled hair. I wasn't sure what to make of this priest who had a yellow pad.\n\nThe priest wrote \"What sins do you wish to confess? Write that down than talk the room's not sound proofed.\"\n\nI know I have something to confess to the priest when I go for confession is saying to the priest \"I lied to mom on the prices of books I ordered despite her nagging me to save my money.\"\n\nUgh no idea what the priest would say in response \"Are you sorry?\" I'm guessing.\n\nPriest wrote \"Just admit this sin to your mom and chant the prayer 'Ay Kabaiya!' three times for pleading to beg for forgiveness.\"\n\nI was about to write \"Okay I'll do that.\" when the priest removed the yellow pad and waved me out.\n\nUgh rude but I guess he's not happy with having to do confessions for other people who are just using the priest for whining of some horrible news. One night I started a religious themed book by King Kingsbury called \"To go to the moon\" about the survivors of the transfer from planet Earth to Aire as that world should be called. Ugh I'm just not entirely sure if that author should be writing about tragedies that hit the USA. Oh well.\n\nI mentioned by phone \"I using Weather's Field as a town name and the apartment complex I lived in called Sharon Lane.\"\n\nMom wound up throwing an angry fit while on the phone mentioning \"I'm insisting you take those names down involving legal issues including laws to use actual names of people, cities and locations.\"\n\n\"Ugh now you tells me.\" I said in response.\n\nMom said \"I insisted you delete the actual names of people cities and locations from your stories.\"\n\nUgh I told her what she wanted to hear \"I'll be doing that deleting as you requested.\"\n\nI wound up not telling mom that I self published online my Edenia fan fiction story online called \"Susan's Denial\" for free online that self publishing Smash-words' website where I've self published stories before. Ugh.\n\nMom has been throwing an angry fit onto me in person and onto phone \"You doing someone else's work into stories for money and stuff.\" which is the same hissing angry attitude towards me \"You using actual names of people and locations.\"\n\nUgh again.\n\nI wouldn't be surprised if I get a big mouth courtesy of the Meritanians thinking it's funny to embarrass people I compelled to say \"I self published Susan's Denial online Smash-words website.\" which knowing mom she'll say \"I insisted you take that story down and delete Susan's Denial from your files of stories saved.\"\n\nUgh terrible big mouth me which I blame the Meritanians thinking \"This is funny to embarrass people.\"\n\nUgh I'm surprised this mood to journal took till now Monday the thirteenth. Ugh I don't get it my mood at all anyway. This sucks.\n\nAnyway Morena by email said \"I mentioned forty bags of donations for forty days of giving for Lancemas the holy days. I urged you to do that giving up stuff for Lancemas like forty bags of stuff a day for each day of the holy days.\"\n\nOh well. Also today I gave up five books I doubt that I would read or read again. I donated those books as a result to the school's free bookshelf including magazines mom gave me I doubt that I would read. I also was urged to give up a book on a soap opera that was defunct but I didn't think I could donate that damn book. Ugh I meant to donate it or reread that book but the soap operas are kind of defunct hence I keeping that book as a result. Ugh. Soap operas aren't much around TV or around internet. I hardly see much TV's soap operas on TV other than four of them that I don't bother to watch much. Ugh.\n\nThere's one soap opera I don't watch on TV I'm not impressed with that soap opera. I prefer to watch soap operas on other channels instead. I find \"The Hour Glass\" soap opera boring me to tears hence I don't bother to watch that much. Ugh I do watch \"Rags\" soap operas including \"Medical Hospice\" the soap opera but I don't watch the soap operas very much at all. I just don't anyway.\n\nMorena can be a manipulator towards me doing things I don't care for.\n\n\"I'm donating towels.\" I said by email to Morena who said \"I insist you laundered towels you're donating instead of just giving them to me to donate.\"\n\nUgh jeez Morena. Ugh again. Also I read this author's book about apartments I'm finding that book rather boring me so I skimmed the ending. Ugh I rate that book two stars online where's I'm on a book's profile website. Ugh I doubt that I would be reading anymore of that author's work. Mom has that author on a no read list out of that she is more of a journaling writer than a descriptive personal writing person unlike a popular romance author Nikolina Nikolai I favor that works for Veronica Thomas Incorporation. Ugh again.\n\n\"This author Nikolina Nikolai.\" according to mom on the phone \"is more descriptive with her scenes describing them and stuff involving writings.\"\n\nUgh lucky Nikolina Nikolai on selling her works very well and earning tons of money off her writings. Ugh lucky. I can't seem to convince the public online this vanity press's website to buy my stories. The public seemed inclined to get my stories for free. The public sucks big time when they prefer my stories free than buying any of my stories for fees. Ugh I hate the public. Also annoying is when I'm stuck having to use this vanity press website for publishing stories that a fantasy and science fiction magazine rejected. This sucks to do that but I don't get much feedback onto my stories from family and friends. Ugh. Family and friends don't give me much feedback on what they think of my stories hence I have to submit them to magazines including self publishing them online with a paragraph to ask for commentary posting involving what readers' think of the story. Ugh. I hate it when people don't give me constructive feedback I want involving my stories. Ugh dad trashes my stories and finds them not good. One friend online uses excuses to avoid responding to my feedbacks' requests like excuses of being too busy to read my stories.\n\nI around two thirty bugged dad with a text email message \"I request you to take me out for errands.\"\n\nDad responded right away instead of forever \"The outing is at the time of four o'clock.\"\n\nDad arrived around four o'clock \"Where to?\" which I said \"I insisted on town library to go driven to.\"\n\nI dropped off three library books one I already read or skimmed and didn't read entirely. Oh that book was on the apartments I found boring and skimmed the ending.\n\nThe second book was Nikolina Nikolai's book \"Immortality\" the last book in the one's series I didn't agree with the book's contents involving the previous book. I thought the story was a tad too dark and negative something I didn't agree with. Yuck. I don't know if I would get around to reading \"Immortality\" or not. Oh well. Also dropped off a paper version of an e-book I have on e-reader already called \"Fallen Flat King\" by Matilda May. I meant to get around to reading that book whether it's by e-reader or by paper version. Ugh don't know why I haven't despite downloading the e-book version. I went to the rejected bookcase for withdrawn books and picked up four books which they appeared to be vampires or paranormal bent themes books. Nice I guess. I picked up Lora Lorena's novel \"Rule Breaker\" I'm not sure of why that book was withdrawn other than that book's story was probably not popular among library patrons or something like that status. Ugh. I found and picked up a second book Michelle Michael's book \"Flame Thrower\" which I think that book is a teens' novel by the size and picture of it involving that book. I'm not sure of that anyway. I picked up a third book Carly Caroline a Chicago vampires' novel. I've heard of Caroline's work but never gotten around to reading her work before. Oh well. I also picked up a fourth book by Carly Caroline novel into her urban fantasy series. I think the series is told in first person because of the female on the cover involving urban fantasy. I'm sure of that status. Ugh.\n\nMorena told me by email \"I have advice for you involving clutter in your apartment. My advice is one thing in an equal value thing out. I meant four books you take in you have to give up four books for donations like that for an example.\"\n\nUgh. Anyway I wound up with the voice picking onto me last night around four forty five after sickness in the toilet. Ugh triggered paranoia to go off as a result. Yuck cutest cat tried to comfort me by being social. I took my pills and ate food then wound up onto computer. Also during the computer's time the voice quit but continued while I was on the phone with mom. I was on the phone with mom for almost two hours with a break of ten minutes in between phone calls. Oh well. My stomach still acted up when I was on the phone with mom hence I in the bathroom around seven twenty twice but I didn't flush that time. I flushed the toilet after I got off the phone with mom around eight fifteen. Ugh. I watched the cute brothers' show which was nice but too bad one is married and the other is probably has a girlfriend to marry later. Oh well. The brothers are easy on the eyes to watch and funny anyway. I like their show their silly sometimes. Oh cute. I woke up around eight thirty this morning with the voice going off waking me up like an inner alarm clock. I think I was sick in the toilet multiple times despite the noises of my head. Ugh boy was I glad to take my pills and eat some chocolate spread for breakfast. Ugh glad to take my pills and cut the inner noises. Ugh. Love my cute little baby bundle of fur to slobber with kisses and give her cuteness hugs. She's so tolerant of her paycheck for free eats around here. I love that little stinking cutie so much. Aw cute.\n\nI emailed Lizard Lizette involving Morena's advice which she responded right away \"That's good advice for sorting.\"\n\nWell nice. I emailed Jolica involving that same talk but she's not responding right away or reading my message which I guess she's busy with work. Oh well. I emailed Morena who was online but ignored me. I guess she was on her cell phone checking Chat's email while ignoring pings from people. She won't download the chat option by cell phone out of that she doesn't want to be tied to her cell phone involving that option. This is a pity anyway.\n\nYesterday I emailed Morena \"You want to meet for a lunch date at school?\" which she said \"I agree for a lunch date at school around noon.\"\n\nOh Yay for that lunch date. Plus the day was nice and sunny and a bit cloudy. Oh well the clouds threatened to rain a bit but never rained actually. Ugh. I wore my NYC pink hat to the school while wearing a pink Denver Colorado tee shirt and sweat pants.\n\nI think Morena said \"I approved of your outfit.\"\n\nNice. Anyway I went to school and met Morena for lunch which Mars joined us by buying Mickey D's food for Morena's and himself which he ate in front of us. Nice. Also Morena wound up onto her cell phone talking to whoever was on there.\n\nShe told me \"The caller was someone named Son Johnson whose wife was in the hospital that might need my interpreting services later for being deaf.\"\n\nUgh also Mars left which I wound up sitting with Morena for awhile till one o'clock is when's she left carrying her lunch and cell phone to her ear. Ugh. I went to the free bookshelf in school after Morena hit the elevator which I wound up finding that ideal book I had in mind to read wasn't there in the bookshelf. Someone took that book before I could take it to read. Ugh hate that happening. Yuck. I walked home and wound up watching HG for two hours with the cat on my lap. Cutie pie was lap happy once I was home and social. I guess she missed me and loved to sit onto my lap like a cute kitten mitten. Aw. HG aired this damned Caribbean show involving house hunting in the Caribbean than anything else as a marathon. They showed newer episodes of that series around nine o'clock that night. Ugh boring. Also Dellen's show didn't have Dellen as the host instead the show had a guest host which I found was funny. That guest host was funny as a bunny ear cat hopping around cutely. Aw nice I guess. Oh well. I got an issue of gymnastics in the mail involving the national championships for colleges. They featured Okie Dokie the college for women as nicknamed by the High Council that won the title. The title for men was dubbed Waterford despite known by another name by the High Council. Nice I guess. I have yet to read that magazine. I meant to get around to reading gymnastics but I'm just not in the mood. Ugh terrible. Anyway after Dellen's show I saw the local news which I watched till weather report then I went back to HG's Caribbean show which bored me that around five forty five I went to local news for sports report and stuff like that. I skipped world news because they habitually show doom and gloom news than anything positive. Yuck something I don't care for watching anyway. Ugh.\n\nAround seven o'clock I wound up onto the phone with mom for over an hour till like close to eight fifteen is when mom started whining \"My stinking apartment stinks! I insisted on getting off the phone to get outside!\"\n\nUgh. I got off the phone and didn't do much this evening other than lap sat by the cutest cat who tried to nap onto my lap multiple times but got off and went to the couch. Aw poor cutie booty the baby cute kitten. I crashed around ten o'clock last night and wound up cuddled bummed by the munchkin who bathed herself too much annoying me. I hate it when's she's bathing herself while next to me in my bed because that annoys me. Ugh she finally quit that and went to sleep with me sleeping fine. I woke up this morning for bathroom and figured since I was up I'll stay up. Also cutie was no where in sight on my bed but on the couch onto her familiar spot for sleeping. Aw cute love that little munchkin bunches. She's so cute. Speaking of the munchkin she's got a bald spot onto her back that she's scratching repeatedly despite my efforts to keep the apartment clean of dust and dirt. Ugh I think cutesy cat needs a vet appointment for a steroid shot for her allergies. This is a pity. I've got one hundred and eighty dollars saved into book safe I'm hoping is an enough to pay for most of the baby bundle of fur's vet bill when it's time for me to get her to the vet for a steroid shot including a checkup onto that bald spot onto her back. Ugh. I just have to let dad know that I'm requesting a vet appointment for the baby cat so he can drive me to the vet for when's it's time for that to happen. Ugh can't wait to let dad know of this including calling the vet. Poor baby cute kitten with her allergies. Aw love that little munchkin bunches but hate it when's she's suffering from allergies that makes her itchy enough to scratch a bald spot. Poor munchkin!\n\nI wound up with a weird dream involving gymnastics' gym and some fat guy. Ugh that fat guy was obese and refused to let anyone use balance beam equipment for gymnastics. Ugh don't get it that dream. That fat guy wound up fighting with people for use of a gymnastic balance beam with me putting a hand onto his back and keeping him sitting up while he was pushing or fighting with people. Fat guy wound up pushing something off the balance beam's area and walking off after that fight. I got up off the balance beam's area and went to sit onto the rugged floor to watch a TV a flat TV screen airing something. Ugh. I don't get it that dream anyway. I don't do gymnastics anymore since I'm likes too old to do that sporting event. Also that dream had people doing gymnastics onto equipment including equipment that was older and not for gymnastics uses but seemed for that sporting. Ugh. I don't get it that weird dream or what the hell it means. Ugh again. Also I emailed Auntie Berliner on books I was reading which she emailed me a recommendation involving a vampire series I've seen on TV but never bothered to read the books. Oh well sounds like fun I guess. That vampire series was for teens something I saw at the town library I never bothered to get around to reading till Auntie recommended them to me. Ugh. I have library books on hand I've meant to get around to reading which I'm like halfway through one of them \"Unmade songs\" by Katie Caitlyn. I'm finding that book rather interesting so far from what've read. Problem is I don't remember much of book two to refer to book three I'm currently reading. Ugh I remember some details of that book but I'm not entirely sure if I remember what's that book is about. Ugh sucks. I might have to reread the series trilogy \"Magical Majesty\" again to remember what book one and two are about despite reading book three. Ugh this sucks like I said when I don't remember much of books' contents. Ugh again.\n\nI wound up walking outside in the weather to the town library where I wound up with the voice going off. Yuck. I sorted of tolerated that noises by going to the town library to sit around reading and finishing this library book \"Unmade Songs\" by Katie Caitlyn. I finished that book oh Yay me.\n\nI couldn't sleep much since last night. I kept waking up for noises of my head including the bathroom which I didn't flush the toilet out of trying to not be noisy for my downstairs' neighbor. Ugh. Also I wound up accidentally turning on the heating blanket hence I discovered this fact when I went to resume sleeping despite cutie the cat pointing that out to me. Ugh again. I turned off the heating blanket and adjusted that thing somewhere where I couldn't accidentally press the button or switch. Ugh hate it when's that has to happen. Yuck. Anyway I read the pill bottle's label for my hormones' pills and discovered this taking those pills involved the morning than in the evening. Hence I have to quit the evening taking them and take the hormones into the morning with my other pills. Ugh sucks. I opt not to take my hormone pills last night hence I wound up with voices talk and sick like problems into the toilet. Yuck but I tried to sleep the best I could. Unfortunately around five o'clock something in the morning I gave up sleeping and got up to send email to people. Ugh. I emailed Auntie a short email then I did the same to Morena who was online but on her cell phone hence her ignorance. Ugh Jolica hasn't bothered to reply to my email in awhile. I guess that she's busy or something hence Jolica's lack of response. Ugh terrible. I wound up home with the voice going off involving the toilet's number two. I think I'm creepy out involving mom's visiting me. Or Mom's coming to see me or something like that fact. Ugh. I watered and fed cutest cat food for she needed more food anyway. Oh well nice of me to feed her more food and water. Nice.\n\nLast night I wound up with the voice going off bothering me involving the damn toilet. Yucky problem to have but I forced myself to talk to mom by phone without alerting her of that problem. I talked to mom for around an hour till seven o'clock is when we finally got off the phone. Oh Yay. Also last night I read a library's version of Carly Caroline's work involving Chicago vampires which I finished. I was creepy out too much to sleep when ten o'clock rolled around so I read and finished \"Singer\" by Carly Caroline. Ugh.\n\nDuring the ending part of Caroline's book I felt creepy out on finishing \"Singer\" but I finished that book I rate four stars out of five online good reads' website. Oh Yay me.\n\nAround two o'clock the voice quit its attacking barrage onto me which I went to bed and slept despite a little creepy out by the inner noises going off.\n\nI slept till five o'clock woken up by bathroom but I thought I would sleep some more on the advice of the voice blaring at me to do that which I did \"You should sleep some more.\" I heard blared into my mind.\n\nI woke up around seven o'clock and decided to send emails to people out of needing something to do while computer staring. I find that computer staring while sick with the voice creeps me out bothering my paranoia quite a bit hence I don't computer stare. I find that reading a book with the TV on is much better for my paranoia and creepiness feelings despite not bothering to do the computer nowadays. I still use the computer sometimes whenever I'm sick with the voice but that's only before I go to eat dinner even with the voice going off. Yuck. I checked out the tenth edition anniversary of Chicago Vampire series by Carly Caroline which I discovered the main story was twin to a library book I finished hence I skipped that and skimmed a bit. I wound up reading the bonus content of that book which I haven't finished yet. Oh well.\n\n\"Morning Sweetie: I'm in church then work nine to three give me a buzz tonight at six pm love you mom.\" This is mom's text email message to my cell phone this morning.\n\nI didn't respond out of unsure if mom would get that message.\n\nMom whined by phone \"I've been getting multiple texting messages that were spam I deleted.\" hence I haven't really text emailed her a response.\n\nOh well.\n\nMorena by emailing me in Chat's emails said \"I suggested you get rid of books that aren't Nikolina Nikolai's works.\"\n\nUgh she knows I favor Nikolina Nikolai too much to the point of collecting her works. I also thought of getting rid of books that were already on e-reader too. I also kept some books that weren't easily found by e-reader or e-book form. Ugh.\n\nMorena said \"I insisted you sort out fifty books.\" which I did that job but not much but I bagged the books too into cloth bags for her to pick up on Thursday Morena said \"I'll come by on Thor's day also known as Thursday to pick up the books.\"\n\nI can't wait to get rid of those books. Ugh. Also can't wait to get rid of a bookcase and have Morena take that thing off my hands. I've got ideas on what bookcase I should get rid of which I'll go see if I can do that getting rid of that bookcase I've got in mind. Ugh again.\n\nUgh Wednesday night I had a little trouble motivating myself to sleep into bed to be wake up by alarm clock at seven thirty. Ugh I woke up around six o'clock Thursday morning by cutie pawing me awake and sitting onto my front on her butt. Cute I guess.\n\nAnyway I wasn't able to open a window because of the rainy stormy weather that day yesterday. Yuck and terrible weather anyway. Ugh. Also I showered around eight o'clock starting my damn day. I had a debate on what to wear with my clothes tee shirt wise and sweater wise. I picked a tee shirt in blue and a sweater in pink including my blue sweats and wore my sweater jacket.\n\nUgh Ted text emailed me around eight fifty \"Morena was going to be a little late.\" which I responded on his request \"Text email me that you got the message.\"\n\nI said \"I got your message.\"\n\nAfter that I spent the rest of the time peeking out the window waiting forever for Morena's arrival which she arrived around nine fifteen.\n\nMorena text emailed me \"I was here in the lot.\" as I got my two bags worth of books including a mini skirt I was donating.\n\nAfter that Morena drove to Ted's apartment which she picked him up \"Ted sit in the front while you sit in the back.\" She ordered.\n\nTed is always talking to Morena while in the front hence Morena's wants him to sit in the front's seat for talking instead of back seat. Ugh hence I'm always seated in the back. Yuck. Anyway I charged my e-reader intending to read that thing while in Morena's car but picked one of the donated books I figured I'll read instead and keep. Ugh I wound up reading a withdrawn library book I was donating I wound up keeping as a result. Ugh. Morena arrived to the mall in a location I wasn't sure of where it was because I was book reading. She parked the car and then we went inside where we met her friend Tanner who seemed to need to be on a diet. Her friend was on the pudgy size side like I and Morena are while Ted's needs to gain weight. We all took a walk around the mall only walking a part of the mall then went to eat lunch.\n\nMorena said \"It was okay for you eating cheese onto your food finding eating that once is okay for you.\"\n\nI wound up sick in the toilet with problems soon after eating that food. Ugh yucky and terrible to have that result in the bathroom. Anyway Morena drove us to Ilia as that store is called by the High Council in a town dubbed Heaven next to the ocean. I haven't seen the ocean in awhile or a long time so the viewing was rather nice. We after arriving was sitting around waiting for Tanner and another of Morena's friends named Tina to show up. Nice.\n\n\"I considered buying a chair for my office.\" As said by Morena but she said \"Nope don't want to buy that chair.\" when's examining the box for that chair.\n\nUgh a pity that Morena bought a bottle of wood polish than anything else. Also we went to the café for drinks for Tina to eat food. Morena had soda while I had water both our drinks in glass cups. Morena is still onto a no plastic kick involving products. She won't use products that come in plastic. She's trying to eliminate the uses of plastic from her house including using them for anything hence she's refusing products' buying that are in plastic containers. Ugh nice idea I guess. After our drinks and food we took a walk around the store then went to the other part of the store where people could load bags for products including carts too.\n\n\"I insist that you to buy a cushion for you computer desk's chair on that your original cushion is shredded.\" As said to me by Morena.\n\nUgh I did that buying costing me six dollars and got some change back. Ugh.\n\nMorena said \"Nope.\" to me buying a stuffed toy or some bath towels I was thinking \"That's an impulsive buys.\"\n\nUgh Morena managed to convince me \"You to just to buy the cushion.\" which I did.\n\nAnyway the weather rained when Morena drove to the mall and kept up the rainy weather when she drove to Ilia. After Ilia the weather quit raining but was terribly cloudy and miserable. Yuck. Morena drove Ted and I home which on the way out of the parking lot I saw a couple that reminded me of a couple I've seen online next to a car. I didn't point them out or anything just guessed that the couple was them but I didn't see their faces. I only saw their body shapes including their blonde hair to assume that status. Ugh.\n\nI wound up paying attention on the way home with the voice going \"Got to pee!\" over and over involving pee urges.\n\nUgh plus the voice started chanting its familiar question \"Are you forgetting something?\" in response to me late taking my pill at five o'clock.\n\nMorena stalled on getting me home instead she drove to Ted's and had me \"You to help him haul some stuff from my car's back end into his apartment.\"\n\nUgh once done I conversed with Morena in the car \"\"I living in the apartment complex where Ted lives for his apartment seems nice.\"\n\nMorena said \"I disagreed with your talk because of the lengthy walk to school from there.\"\n\nOnce at home I text emailed dad \"Good evening Daddy I'm home with cutest cat roams got dropped off by Morena and is slobbering kitty with kisses.\"\n\nDad text emailed me twice saying \"Cute\" at first then said his traditional message \"Ok.\"\n\nTed said \"I noticed today that you don't say much besides the words 'Ok' and 'Fine' to me whenever I tried to get you into a conversation.\"\n\nThose words are dad's traditional familiar words he always habitually says to me than anything else. Ugh dad always says those words to me in texting messages than anything else messages' wise. Ugh again.\n\nAfter I got home mom text emailed me \"Call mom if you're home.\"\n\nI ate my dinner which was toasted bagel with cheese and orange juice. I shouldn't have eaten cheese with my meal but I wasn't in the mood for a lengthy nuking food time because of having to phone mom. So I made my sandwich with my pill I took and ate that then after that phoned mom. I was on the phone from five forty five to eight ten in evening. I guess we both had lots to say involving my outing with Morena which we discussed locations including how Morena's got to there by driving on roads. Nice I guess. During the phone call I wound up with an upset stomach that involved cramps for number two. Ugh mom put me on hold multiple times but I didn't using the toilet instead jotted notes by journal instead while on hold. Oh well.\n\nAround eight ten in the evening mom started whining \"I'm wanted to get off the phone.\" so I agreed by saying \"I love you lots Momsy Bobsy bye.\"\n\nI hung up and did something involving my cramps in the toilet then got into pajamas. Cutest cat ever got onto my lap but she didn't stick around long enough she got off. Aw poor cutie pie I guess was cold hence she lap sitting me. I opened the windows above the air conditioner last night out of how stuffy it got into my apartment. The weather once I was home for the evening wasn't too bad for windows open. I had the windows open all night which wasn't too bad. I woke up this morning for bathroom and with the sunlight shining gave up sleeping. I got up and figured I would send people emails out of needing something to do before I go shower.\n\nI wound up into a talk with Morena by Chat's option onto cell phone but she's not being too talkative with me \"Sorry I'm working.\" She said.\n\nUgh. I'm just sick with a voice attack at the moment involving the toilet hence I sick repeatedly with the toilet at the moment and trying to tolerate that noisy issue till I go phone mom at eight thirty tonight.\n\nMorena ended chat which I wound up onto the phone with mom for a short time because mom was working a morning shift at six o'clock. Ugh also once off the phone I wound up editing one Edenia series' story out of needing something to do. Ugh.\n\nAnyway yesterday I roped dad \"You into driving me around town.\"\n\nDad picked me up around two o'clock an hour after Morena said \"I'm working hence I ended chat.\"\n\nMorena said \"I insisted you get rid of ten books.\" which I donated to the town library yesterday including some library books I doubt I would read or finish. Oh well.\n\nDad drove me to town library where I donated books \"I asked librarian for Malinia's memoir 'Shining time.'\"\n\n\"We don't have that book but we would have to inter library loan for you.\"\n\nOh well sucks big time ugh. After library where I almost forgot to donate my bag of book I had on hand which I forgot to get rid of those books till I almost left the library is when I remembered that joke. Ugh dumb me. Anyway after library I went to drug store where I bought toothpaste and a notebook out of that the store's notebook supply wasn't much.\n\nI did whine to the cashier a guy \"You don't have much supplies in notebooks.\" But I still bought a notebook a two subject one. Oh well.\n\nAfter drug store was grocery shopping where I bought food and used my clothe bags to carry my items to dad's car.\n\nDad said \"I'm not coming into the store instead stayed in the car.\"\n\nOh well nice I guess. Also I wound up once I was home watching TV show Dellen's Show then a bit of local news blaring about a golf tournament. Boring me to tears actually so I went to HG to watch till six o'clock is when I phoned mom. Oh I made sure to eat dinner before phoning mom. Oh nice. I was on the phone for around two hours till eight o'clock is when we got off the phone and I went to watch TV watching HG channel stuff rerunning and then nine o'clock a newer episode. Nice. I crashed around ten o'clock last night and woke up for bathroom around six o'clock in the morning but I figured since I was tired I might as well continue sleeping which I did fifteen minutes to nine o'clock is when I woke up and started my day.\n\nI remembered having a weird dream of visiting a manicurist's nail salon for a manicure which \"You want your nails done?\" I received rude reception including a half done job onto my nails.\n\nThis seemed to have something to do with me being a walk in customer \"Your not here for an appointment.\"\n\nUgh also the nail salon seemed to be having a party or something involving food too hence people hanging around eating their food. Oh don't get it this damned dream anyway. Yuck. I've meant to chop my nails out of that their getting long might be too long for me to type. Oh well.\n\nAlso had a weird dream of me visiting some school looking for a bathroom toilet and couldn't find it enough \"Where's the bathroom?\" I asked a teacher where that was.\n\nAlso wound up into a restaurant where I threw dishes from the table onto the floor like a rude kiddy. Ugh don't get it this damned dream anyway.\n\nYesterday mom came over after a short phone call in the morning \"I'm coming to see you as you requested.\"  \nI phoned her and asked \"Can you come up and see me?\"\n\nWell nice I guess of mom to come see me. Nice! Also I gave mom books that later took them back and donated them to the town library.\n\nMom said \"In the car smelled the mustiness of the books. I donated the books.\"\n\nI was giving her including me donating books I wasn't going to read. Ugh sucks.\n\nMom met Steve Stevenson a Tom Mindbender Thunder look twin's guy who likes me in the town library.\n\n\"Steve this is my mother raiser Beatrice Bee. This is Steve Stevenson.\" I introduced him to my mom that they both had a chat while I went to the library's desk \"I'm asking about a Nikolina Nikolai's book 'Glass island's' due date.\"\n\n\"Book wasn't due till two weeks later.\" which I didn't recheck it out instead figured I'll quickly read that fast and be done with soon enough I'm hoping. Ugh.\n\nAfter library was to stop and shop using cloth bags to hold our purchases in them which mom whined \"The grocery store charging ten cents for plastic bags hence I gave you tons of cloth bags to use.\"\n\nOh well. After stop and shop was home to nuke some pizza into the oven which I ate but wound up sick in the toilet with problems later on.\n\nUgh I whined to mom on the phone \"My problems with dairy intake later on that made me sick into the toilet.\"\n\nMom said \"I suggested you eat food that's non dairy.\"\n\nOh nice I guess.\n\nMom said \"I have to show you forms involving going over the trust fund's paperwork including how much the money was left in the trust fund.\"\n\nAround nine thousand dollars and some change left into the trust fund. Oh goody. I'm hoping to whittle down the trust fund's amount so I can get the money deposited into my bank account for me to use instead of having mom using it for paying for stuff. Ugh. Also I'm no longer onto energy assistance matching payment plan at the moment. I need to start saving money for my electricity bills including for cutesy cat's vet bills too. Ugh.\n\n\"I asked on using the trust fund to pay for my electricity bills including for my cutest cat's vet bills.\"\n\nMom said \"I claimed that the trust fund is for you only and not for the cat or for anyone else which includes those electricity bills you have to pay yourself.\"\n\nUgh sucks.\n\nMom said \"I insisted on you going to church for confession.\" which I said \"I have nothing to confess to the priest.\" I was out of not willing to confess anything to the priest.\n\nOh well.\n\nMy confession I would say \"I would be feeling like punching my cat with my fists.\"\n\nI hope not on that punching status. Ugh. I had a calico cat I would punch with my fists and hit out of being angry from school and not having an outlet to get rid of my anger hence I would fist the cat Patty with my fists. Ugh quite a pity that she's doesn't care for me fisting her. Yuck. Also Patty was put down humanly for having an inoperable tumor that was giving her pain and making her not eat food. Ugh she was put to sleep as a result. Oh she went willingly for being put to sleep without any defiance or anything like that. Ugh nice of me to do that to her after the abuse I gave the poor kitty with my fists. Ugh. Anyway dad and I adopted two kitties Tiger and Willow a few weeks later that were kittens' ages. Tiger seemed to favor me while Willow was favoring dad and she kept on favoring him over the years. I don't think Willow liked me anyway. Ugh. I doubt that I would be getting a calico cat after Samantha's life gets to the point she needs to be put down humanly. I don't think I could withstand a calico cat. I abused one and another one didn't care for me instead favored someone else. I don't think I'll ever get a calico anyway. Yuck. I think I'll get a black cat like Samantha my cutest kitten is entirely black and refer her as some cutesy name of Demeter from my father raiser Jinks Montreal having a cat with that name. Cute name I guess.\n\nThose names of Demeter and Vikat were names I wanted to name Tiger and Willow originally but dad said \"No not those names! I don't want to be reminded of something horrible with my life!\"\n\nWe picked Tiger for tiger tabby stripes and dad picked Willow from his favorite TV show he favored enough to tape. Ugh. I blame that trust fund as reason why's I'm not earning extra money off my writings. Ugh I blame the fact that the trust fund's existence is why's I'm seemingly not earning any money of my own from anything like my writings. Ugh. I'm seemingly losing money off impulsive buys including me buying things I shouldn't have bought in the first place.\n\nUgh this is something mom noticed and pointed out to me \"You seemed to be buying things you shouldn't be buying.\"\n\nI think Morena said \"I noticed this fact too.\" and has been picky onto me buying things. Ugh again. I blame the fact that the trust fund's existence is why I can't seem to be earning extra money off my writings or anything I sell online Bay's too. I blame the fact that the trust fund being there for me is why I can't seem to earn money of my own. Yuck. I find if I try to earn money of my own I won't get the money at all. Ugh something I noticed involving me having a trust fund blocking me from earning extra money of my own. This is a yucky problem to have. The lack of money I'm trying to earn of my own involving my own writings is the pits when's I can't seem to convince the public to purchase my stories. All I get is public wants my stories to be free than buying the stories for fees. The public sucks with their attitude involving my stories. Ugh. Baby cute kitten wound up lap sitting me which I snatched her up for a nice hug fest and kisses too. Cutie tolerated the hug and kiss fine. I guess that's her paycheck for free eats around here. Aw cute. Also I emailed dad and Jolica this story of Lance Knight. I figured I'll include stories into my journals if I'm inclined to do that inclusion. Oh well.\n\nI tagged Morena \"Hi Morena you around for a chat?\" who replied \"I'm here so what's mew with you?\" which I was online talking to her for thirty minutes till around eleven o'clock is when she ended chat \"I have to go do something else like chores.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nMorena by her emails' messages said \"I suggested you go out for a walk today to take advantage of the nice sunny day to walk to the green in town and sit down reading a book.\"\n\nI don't feel like doing that today because I'm sick in the toilet with problems including today's Sunday I don't normally go out for walks much on Sundays regardless of the weather.\n\nAlso I text emailed dad \"Good morning daddy check your email I emailed you a short story involving Edenia series I'm working on. Let me know what you thought of story.\"\n\nDad according to cell phone read that text's message but didn't respond. Ugh sucks.\n\nAlso mom around eight o'clock in the morning sent me a text email message saying \"Good morning lovey, I'm working nine-thirty am to two pm. Have a good day, call me at six pm. Love you, mom.\"\n\nOoh all I have to show today is problems with the toilet that's bound to annoy the neighbors for uses of the thing. Ugh.\n\nMorena said \"I suggested you get outside walking around.\" but I don't do that on Sundays like I stay home bored to tears and clean the apartment than doing anything else. I also slobber the furry baby too much too. Poor kitty has gone to hide to avoid me slobbering her head too much with kisses including pick me up hugs. This is a pity when's the kitty's fed up with me slobbering her too much that's she's gone to hide and avoid me. Ugh. I'm just annoyed by my head thinking ideas or scenes for Edenia series but when's I go to type those ideas down the mood evaporates or goes away leaving me frustrated and stuck with those damned ideas into my head I can't seem to type down. Ugh again. I'm also annoyed that I can't seem to write down those damned ideas either despite thinking of them. Ugh. I spend my time writing journaling thoughts than writing stories for me to copy onto computer later. Oh well. Also those notebooks are for me to fill in with my writings then once I finish those damn things I throw them out into dumpster with my garbage. I symbolize throwing out the notebooks with throwing out problems than keeping the notebooks on hand. Oh well. This garbage's notebook tossing out is something I've done multiple times including emailing to people that I do that habit.\n\nMorena said \"I know you do that habit of notebook throwing out. I encourage you to do that but I'm not buying notebooks for you to write in if you're going to toss them out into the dumpster.\"\n\nThis sucks. Plus I noticed with my writings I seemed to be recycling already published stories to have this character's point of view or changing one story to have something else. I like I did with one story involving something I changed into a point of contact story between a group of people and talking sentient plants that live in the ocean. Ugh. Sometimes I can't seem to type anything brand new down or think of anything involving ideas to type down hence I'm stuck recycling stories. I don't seem to like this damned stories' recycling. I prefer to think of something brand new than the same old recycling lined stories to have this story's point of view or something else. Ugh even annoying is I'm sending stories and poems to magazines that are being picky with what story or poetry they accept. So far I've received nothing but ignorance and rejection. Ugh I can't seem to get any of my written words accepted into magazines. I find my written words have something into them that turn people off from wanting to buy my stories or same for accepting them for publication. The public like my friends and family sucks when's they won't very descriptively tells me what I need to do towards my stories to fix them up for public to buy them. I find I emailed short stories involving the Edenia series to friends and family multiple times. They won't respond with their creative critique on what they think needs work with my stories. Only Jolica responds by Chat's email with her opinion but that's about it. I don't get responses from dad or anyone else besides her involving my stories. Ugh. I saw a Nikolina Nikolai's e-book on sale for online Barnes and Noble's website which I purchased but won't read. I have yet to bother to read and finish an e-book by e-reader.\n\nI meant to do that reading even voice is nagging me \"You to do that reading too.\"\n\nUgh I only have sixty dollars and some change left into bank account before I get my monthly paycheck within a week's time frame. Ugh I'm hoping the bank won't get greedy and suck most of sixty dollars out of my bank account. I owe dad money for glasses which I already paid dad twenty dollars. I was hoping to use one of the twenties in sixty dollars to pay dad what I owe for glasses' bill. Ugh. Also I was hoping on using the remainder of sixty dollars to put twenty into my book safe for cute baby kitten's future vet bills. The rest of that for spending money onto something I need to purchase out of not using my card. Ugh again. I've been more interested into reading paper copies of books I have by e-reader than reading those e-books.\n\nUgh voice has been nagging me \"You to read the e-books by e-reader!\" but I won't bother doing the reading.\n\nUgh don't get it at all. I don't get it why's I won't read and finish an e-book by e-reader when I'm more inclined to read the paper copy which is either paperback or hardcover. Ugh. Some books I have on hand are awkward for me to read because their hardcover but I'll still read them despite balking on reading the e-books version. Oh well. I wound up around five thirty with the bathroom's problems triggering the paranoia to go off bothering me.\n\nUgh I ranged mom around six o'clock who whined \"I'm not being ready for a phone call. Call me back at six thirty.\" so I ranged her up again around six thirty and talked for twenty minutes.\n\nMom said \"I suggested you ring me up around nine o'clock.\" but I didn't bother out of creepy out by the voice and paranoia hitting me at the time.\n\nI sort of gave up telling mom by phone of me creepy out by paranoia and voice hitting me at the time. I just use excuses to get off the phone with her and not phone her again that evening.\n\nI read and finished \"Glass Island\" by Nikolina Nikolai last night which completion of that book creep me out including cutesy cat sitting onto my lap too. Ugh cutesy cat was cold and tried for my lap but I couldn't withstand her very good hence she got off and clawed the armchair as a result. Ugh.\n\nLast night dad text emailed me \"I'm going to Sanne's residence in Greenleaf.\"\n\nI asked dad \"Do you need me to feed the kitties?\"\n\nDad replied \"Yes.\" answer including \"There's a time frame of feeding the cats.\"\n\nUgh. I wound up with eating dinner around five o'clock with my pill then around five thirty I walked to dad's house carrying my purse in a backpack form including a memoir Ugh. Only Willow was around for food which the other kitties hid and didn't show themselves around dad's house. Dumb cats dumb animals. Also I walked home and watched the remainder of local news till six thirty is when they went to doom and gloom world news I hate watching so I went to HG till seven o'clock is when I ranged mom up for a phone call.\n\nMom kept call short as thirty minutes due to whining \"I'm falling asleep.\"\n\nUgh quite a pity anyway which I hung up and watched the HG's channel till ten o'clock is when I went to bed crashing asleep willingly. Ugh. Baby cute kitten was friendly last night enough to demand attention including trying to play chewy with my hand petting her. Dumb cat dumb animal. Ugh dumb me for petting her cuteness that she wanted to play chew with my hand. Oh well. After that I crashed and slept till six o'clock in the morning woken up by bathroom but since I was tired I crashed and slept till fifteen minutes past nine o'clock.\n\n\"Check your cell phone!\" I was woken up by my noisy head involving my damn cell phone receiving texting messages from mom and dad.\n\nUgh mom around eight o'clock text emailed me \"Call mom!\" a phone request but I was asleep at the time so mom added \"The phone request to seven thirty tonight.\"\n\nUgh.\n\nAlso dad said \"I begged you to go feed the kitties!\"\n\n\"I refuse.\" Which I said then around ten o'clock after dad begged again \"I beg you to go feed the kitties. I have no one to feed them with.\"\n\nI relented and went to dad's house feeding the furry bundles of his. Tigger was around acting as mister social while Walnut was meowing at me with her big mouth. Willow was around stuffing her face and acting like a snob on the bob. Oh Bogey I nicknamed Bogart was no where in sight. I guess he was hiding somewhere into dad's bedroom. Ugh poor kitties. I walked home and did laundry and finished that chore. Oh Yay me. I just have to put away clothes including pajamas and bath's towels then I'll be done as a doornail with that chore. I can't wait anyway. I've got Pavel Palin's memoir \"Water's Son.\" I'm currently reading despite calling that book done online Good Reads' website. I rate that book two stars online that website. I consider that book done with as read despite reading it in real life. Oh well.\n\nI'm reading Palin's book out of that mom talked onto the phone \"I give a subject on varying reading material. You should read more of non fiction than fantasy fiction you seemed to be reading way too much of than anything else.\"\n\nUgh. I forgot to update my computer journal with my online journal. Oh well. At least I remembered to do that updating. I'm still updating my computer journal with those online journaling entries to save on hand if I think it's worth doing that. I wound up sick I'm home sick with the voice going off scaring me at the time hence I turned on the air conditioner and TV and went onto the computer to update my computer journal out of needing to waste time till five o'clock pill taking time.\n\nUgh Canada's main channel went out of service hence I'm stuck with National as a result. Yuk. Also cutest cat avoided me this morning with my attempts to pick her up for a slobbering kiss and hugs fests. I guess that the baby cat isn't in the mood for a hugging and a kissing ritual. Aw poor kitty poor me.\n\nOoh the baby munchkin turns thirteen this month which \"She's.\" according to mom by phone \"A geriatric cat that's old in sixties like sixty five.\"\n\nUgh jeez mom for ruining my mood involving the baby cat's and her lifetime of living with me. Aw.\n\n\"Throw her outside\" says voice who adds \"Get another cat.\"\n\nI hate the talk by the voice making it tempting to remove baby cat for being old and get a kitten to have for slobbering. Yuk.\n\nYesterday mom after a late phone call came over to see me which was a good thing. Mom and I went to Dublin Donuts which I had lunch with her eating food even though I ate an hour ago. Ugh.\n\nAfter we had lunch mom drove to Americaversal store where she told me \"I insisted you purchase silverware for ninety four cents each buying three of them for me to use.\"\n\nI wound up buying them including a notebook for journaling. Ugh Americaversal store is some big major chain that sells items besides food. After store we went to library where mom stayed in the car while I went inside. I couldn't get into the mood for books for me to purchase or check out. Ugh walked out empty handed. Oh well.\n\nAnyway mom drove me home which she said \"I insisted you walked me to the car.\"\n\nI did despite itching to use the toilet hitting me at the time. Ugh I went back into my home and did my business then sat watching HG's \"Fixer Upper\" a defunct big state eye's base show. I saw Delen's show that was a rerun which I didn't mind because I got to journal by notebook wasting time till four o'clock local news' aired their program. Nice I guess.\n\nI around six o'clock ranged mom up who picked up to whine \"I'm not being ready for a phone call for I'm busy eating.\" according to her. \"I want to ask you to call me back at seven o'clock in an hour's time frame\" which I did.\n\nUgh mom was rather rude with her ending the phone call around eight o 'clock \"I love you lots Victoria talk to you tomorrow.\"\n\nShe didn't let me get a word in involving loving her which I would have said \"I love you Momsy Bobsy.\"\n\nUgh I hung up and wound up watching a TV show on HG channel around nine o'clock airing a newer episode then I crashed at ten o'clock. I had a weird dream involving a floor length apartment in a building that appeared to be a city or something like that. I don't get it that dream anyway. I just don't at all. I dreamed of having a Chihuahua dog as a pet for walking with while outside wandering around the building's inner workings that seemed to be like a maze. Ugh.\n\nI dreamed of me running for a titled position which I said \"I agreed to jointly join Morena Morgan for that titled position.\" despite someone else a guy was favored and seemed to be arrogant to think \"I'll win no matter what you campaign for ha.\"\n\nUgh just don't get it that dream anyway but the comment sounded of Ramses' talking commentary into my mind despite he doesn't broadcast talk to me occasionally. The Meritanians that comment to me the most are Merra and Tank which I'm always hearing them blaring talk. Merra makes sure I hear her broadcast all over the place like I'm cued to her. I sometimes have trouble telling the difference from my noises of my head from her talk.\n\nHer voice sounds similar to the noises of my head hence I have to type it down and then ask Merra \"Did you say this to me?\"\n\nMerra sort of evades answering that question instead just continues onto her joker jokes.\n\nI dreamed of a TV's show characters' puppets I tapped onto their backs and they retaliated by trying to bite me.\n\nI signed in American Sign Language as that referred \"No biting!\"\n\nAlso those puppets turned into my cat playing chew the hand that feeds her game. Plus there was a Chihuahua dog hanging around that had puppies which I took the mother dog and put a leash on her while in an apartment and walked outside into a maze of an inner building I trying to get outside but couldn't figure out where. Ugh.\n\nI think my eating same meals for lunch and dinner twice in two days have caused me a problem with the toilet.\n\nI was sick earlier with the voice going off \"Are you forgetting something?\" including hearing \"You need to eat better foods.\" Which sounded of Merra's talk but I wasn't sure.\n\nCutest cat hung around me watching TV while sick with the voice going off. I was rather confused to her behavior or why's she was hanging around me. These hangouts turned out to be her trying to comfort me with the voice going off she sensed that problem. Also I wound up not sleeping very good last night into this morning. I woke up early as four o'clock in the morning for pee urges and resumed sleeping till daylight around six thirty or around that time is when I woke up but resumed sleeping till eight thirty is when I got up. Ugh.\n\n\"Are you forgetting some? Are you forgetting something?\" sang voice in response to me having number two urges in the toilet.\n\nUgh I don't know what's making me sick in the toilet tonight other than blaming me eating two twin meals for two days in a row hence I'm sick tonight. Ugh again.\n\nI text emailed mom by cell phone saying \"Its Victoria its seven o'clock I'm home awaiting word so text email me mews ASAP.\"\n\nI meant to phone Momsy tonight but I'm not sure if she's going to be willing to talk by phone tonight at whatever time's she's free for a chat. Ugh. Mom's got an early morning work shift tomorrow at six o'clock hence she's not going to be chatty by phone tonight. This is a pity towards mom for working that work shift soon after working an afternoon work shift till six o'clock in evening. This is a pity.\n\nI wound up yesterday cleaning the bathroom and then vacuuming the living room.\n\nTed text emailed me \"I want to come over and check your work involving cleaning.\"  \nI said \"Okay come over.\"  \nHe obeyed which he told me in person \"I approved of your vacuuming but found your cleaning in the bathroom dirty.\"\n\nOh well \"This is the same for cleaning the kitchen which is dirty too.\"\n\nI gave Ted a bag of clothes \"You to donate for me.\"\n\n\"I'll do that fine.\" he said.\n\nNice. After Ted's visit I finished a notebook worth of journaling but I used sloppy handwriting to finish that notebook. Ugh. Also I wound up tossing out magazines into a plastic bag with that notebook. Ugh again.\n\nI told mom \"I tossing out of magazines.\" by phone which she was whining \"You needing to scratch the name and address off the magazines.\"\n\nUgh jeez mom.\n\nAnyway mom ended phone call thirty minutes later whining \"It's too hot in my apartment I need to get outside to cool off.\"\n\nUgh. I wound up watching TV last night including journaling into several notebooks. I picked a notebook but I didn't feel like journaling into that notebook so I put it back. I picked another notebook which I wrote using sloppy handwriting till I realized the journal wasn't what I had in mind to journal in so I put that back. I picked up a spiral bound three subject notebooks that was sitting onto my dining table which I wound up using and writing with neater handwriting. I wrote sloppy at first then after that was done I wrote neatly as I could. I couldn't read my handwriting in its sloppy form hence I opt to write neatly. Oh well at least I can read my handwriting anyway.\n\nOoh cutesy cat's sleeping on the couch's footrest while purring her motorboat off. I petted her cuteness galore while she was on there. Cutie tolerated the petting fine with her motorboat going off. Aw cute love my little munchkin bunches. Today's Saturday which the HG channel is airing crummy shows onto their cable channel today. Yuck I don't care for those shows their airing today. Ugh.\n\n\"The town library is open four hours today from ten o'clock to two o'clock.\" According to librarian when I ranged her up asking \"What are the hours of the town library today?\"\n\nI've got no idea what I can do while I'm there besides purchasing books or checking out books to go with the pile I have already. Ugh again.\n\nI sent an email to Jolica \"I spent my day on Thursday cleaning the bathroom and kitchen including doing vacuuming.\"\n\nJolica responded with \"Cleaning is important!\"\n\nUgh Jolica's hardly talkative with her responses to my emails. I guess she's lengthy with other people like her sister Juliet Joliet as named. That's interesting guess anyway. Oh well. Ooh so far today I have to show is me eating crummy junk foods than anything healthy like fruits or veggies. Ugh sucks. This stinks. Also I wound up sending emails to people who didn't reply. Only Jolica read my email but chose not to respond. Ugh I hate that status from people who don't respond right away or read my emails right away. Yuck.\n\nYesterday I didn't do much besides eating inappropriate foods and watching boring TV. I also chased the furry kitty for hugs and kisses requests. Cutie refused and avoided me as a result. Ugh. Plus last night around seven o'clock while waiting for mom's phone request time at eight o'clock I started reading this book \"Blood and Boneheads\" by Nikolina Nikolai. I read like two chapters till I saw the time on the clock was seven thirty so I quit reading. Last night I wound up sick in the toilet with a problem that made my head sing a bit including paranoia off a bit. Yuck to have this problem. Ugh cutest cat hung around me as if trying to help me feel better. Aw poor me poor cutest cat.\n\nI phoned mom around eight o'clock \"Hi its Victoria how are you?\"\n\nMom said \"It's really hot in my apartment. I included needing to phone other people when eight thirty rolled around. I wanted to phone my sister.\"\n\nI said \"I nicknamed Auntie Berliner by the name of Myrtle the Turtle for her slow driving in her car.\"\n\nUgh jeez mom for not getting my joke by saying \"That's not funny and quit referring my sister with that reference.\"\n\nAround eight thirty mom got the operator to type the stop keying symbol which we both hung up. I wound up watching HG last night featuring pools than anything amusing. Ugh boring which I could have read more of Nikolai's book but I didn't bother. Ugh.\n\nSunday I spent the day with mom and Auntie Berliner which Mom text emailed me around eight o'clock saying \"Call mom.\"\n\nI obeyed around five minutes later saying \"Hi its Victoria what can I do for you Momsy Bobsy?\"\n\nMom said \"I plan to come to your apartment with my sister there to meet us there.\"\n\n\"I agree to that meeting.\" I said.\n\n\"Love you see you soon.\" said mom who hung up which she arrived to my apartment around eleven o'clock.\n\n\"You're not wearing a bra!\" as blared by Mom in person who noticed I was droopy in the chest area. \"Put on a bra for my sakes!\" I was forced to put on a bra for mom's sakes. Yuck Also mom made me sit around waiting an hour or over that for Auntie Sandy's arrival. Mom tried to call her sister by my cell phone but didn't reach her so she tried her own cell phone and reached the Aunt who arrived around one o'clock. Well Auntie drove mom and I to Bar's Harbor in another state dubbed Massachusetts but Masses by the High Council. Bar's Harbor is where we ate lunch in a restaurant around two o'clock. All I had to show that day was sick with diarrhea from the foods I've eaten. Yuck. Also after the restaurant was to Lance Richard's shrine of mercy where we attended a church mass then left to the shrine's bookstore which is where I wound up sick with a paranoia problem. Hence I glad I had Nikolina Nikolai's book with me. I read that while waiting for the paranoia to blow off which it did. Ugh.\n\nAfter the bookstore was to home where Auntie dropped mom and I off then mom left \"I'm insisting onto a phone call that night at eight o'clock.\"\n\nI wound up eating dinner with my pill the Geodon dosage then after that phoned mom for a phone call. Ugh again. After phone call I watched TV Sunday night then went to bed. Monday I didn't do much besides talking to mom on the phone lengthy then after that I stayed home slobbering after the furry kiddy but she nipped my nose when I tried a kisses fest onto her while holding her. Poor kitty didn't care for the kisses.\n\nAlso I whined to mom by phone \"That cat nipping my nose when I tried to kiss her.\"\n\nMom told me \"I insist you quit doing that hugging and kissing the cat.\" which I said \"I'll try not to doing that behavior.\"\n\nUgh I wound up picking a dog toy and been kissing that stuffed toy instead of kissing the cat. Oh well.\n\nTuesday yesterday I woke up early as seven o'clock by alarm clock which was for phoning mom at eight o'clock \"Hi it's Victoria. You are coming up to see me for a visit?\"\n\nI ranged mom up who said \"I assured you of coming to see you.\"\n\nMom was later as ten o'clock than around the nine o'clock hour. Ugh. I did laundry during waiting for mom which I washed and dried my clothes including my bra then put the clothes in the suitcase into my bedroom which I later put away around six o'clock. Mom arrived around ten o'clock which she on my asking \"Can you drive me to Barnes and Noble's bookstore?\"\n\nMom said \"Nope I refused on using traffic and construction as reasons why I can't drive you. I ran into trouble with the road on the way to your apartment.\"  \nI found this nothing but flimsy excuses. Ugh mom sucks with her excuses. Mom drove me to town library where I found multiple books trashy kind by an author I didn't care for but I'm sure that Jolica would care for those books. Also I found three books by Nikolina Nikolai a go to author for me that I already read and that those books were in a trilogy so I bought them for one dollar and fifty cents. Oh Yay me. Mom drove to Mickayla's in Turin as that town is called by the High Council. Turin is where we had an early lunch then went to target in another plaza.\n\nI tried on bras and a bathing suit mom picky \"I don't want to buy for you.\" or \"I don't want you having to buy them.\"\n\nUgh mom said \"I found the bras' not supporting you right.\"\n\nUgh. After the trying on clothes was grocery shopping at Americaversal where I mostly bought bananas and blueberries then went home.\n\nAt home I turned on the air conditioner \"I want to use your computer.\" Mom said to me.  \nI said \"I allowed you to use my computer internet.\" She proceeded to do that finding what she wanted to find.\n\nShe couldn't find what she wanted so she gave up the computer. Ugh. Also cutesy cat was friendly hanging around me and Mom on the computer. Aw cutest cat was pet able. Aw love that little munchkin but it sucks when I can't hug and kiss her anymore because of her old age have reached her limits involving hugging and kissing. This is a pity anyway.\n\nMom left for home but told me \"I assured you of a phone call around seven o'clock.\"\n\n\"Call mom.\" she wound up texting me around five thirty I noticed five minutes later.\n\nUgh I was on the phone holding in bathroom for two hours till close to eight o'clock is when mom said \"I insisted on getting off the phone. I want to go read a book then go to bed.\"\n\nI hung up willingly on having bathroom urges to go which I went and wound up into my pajamas. I did put cutesy cat onto my lap multiple times whenever she came by me for petting including lap sitting. The lap sitting was just my way of getting a hug from the baby cat onto my lap who sat fine then got off. Aw cute.\n\nAlso I wound up text emailed by Morena in Chat's email who said \"I assures you of Ted's arrival tomorrow around nine o'clock.\"\n\nI'm hoping I can sleep tonight despite sick with the voice attacking me at the moment. Ugh.\n\nMorena's said \"I'm having Ted come pick you up around nine o'clock in the morning.\" I'm hoping I should be able to shake tonight's attack of schizophrenia and sleep but if not I'm going to be up for hours reading a damn book instead. Ugh. I wound up updating my online journal twice. Once on my day's weekend outing and the second entry onto me was being sick at night with a problem. Ugh.\n\nThursday night I was sick with a problem of voice attacking me involving the toiletry problem. Ugh I wound up onto the computer editing one story out of needing something to concentrate onto out of paranoia aggravated including the toilet bothering me. Ugh.\n\nI think somewhere around nine o'clock is when the attack of voice and toilet stopped which I didn't notice that out of typing onto the computer some story ideas.\n\nAfter that I crashed into bed around ten thirty then slept till three o'clock for bathroom on voice's suggestion \"You to get up and use the toilet!\"\n\nUgh voice has been suggesting \"There's something of kidney stones if you hold in your pee urges to waste.\"\n\nYuck. I've been getting up as a result and going to the bathroom and then resuming bed for morning.\n\nAnyway Friday dubbed \"Fry's Day\" by the High Council who insisted \"We insisted on naming that day \"Fry's day.\"\n\nI didn't do much besides saving my work onto disk and then after that I wound up dressing myself into pants that were raggedy and a nice top.\n\nTed when he picked me up for our outing to Morena's house said \"I'm not happy that you're not wearing jeans.\"\n\nUgh jeez Ted sucks when's he's picky onto my clothes. Ugh terrible. I wound up reading around one hundred pages of Nikolina Nikolai's book \"Blood of boneheads\" while in the car ride to Morena's house.\n\nWe arrived to there fine which I asked Morena \"I'm inquiring about your kitties Blackie and Gaia.\"\n\nShe pointed out Blackie sitting onto a chair that sniffed my hand and accepted me petting him. Aw cute. Plus I went to use Morena's bathroom then came out and met Gaia sitting onto the floor that sniffed my hand and accepted me rubbing her belly when she bared that to me. Aw cute like I said. Oh well. Morena drove Ted in passenger seat with me in the back to a mall.\n\nTown's dubbed by the high Council \"We insisted on naming town Dan's Bury.\"\n\nI spent part of the ride reading Nikolai's book because of pee urges \"I got to pee!\" as blared by voice which I heard \"Your not two you should hold it in.\" I'm sure that comment was Merra's voice saying that.\n\nShe's always stuck to my mind and my mind's contents like glue or seemingly commenting from time to time involving what my schizophrenic voice said. Yuck. After we arrived at the mall I finally got to use the bathroom then we took a walk around for a bit before going to the Cake restaurant to eat lunch.\n\nMorena said \"I suggested you try something else than the usual Mickayla's food you habitually eat while with Me.\" which I did.\n\nI tried chicken with pasta which tasted good. Also I had the remainder of Ted's French fries because he couldn't eat the rest of it. Oh well. After lunch was a walk around the mall which I took a look in accessories stores then I tried on jeans in a store that was on sale. I picked three pairs of jeans which I only tried on one and found one fit me fine so I bought that using the seven dollars into my wallet including a debit card for the remainder of the price. Nice! After that was to another store which Morena bought Ted's hats then she bought me three tops I already tried two of them in a store. Nice of Morena.\n\nMom said by phone later \"You owe her a ten dollar gift card including a thank you note.\"\n\nOh well.\n\nMorena got tired so she said \"I insisted we sit down and rest.\" which we did.\n\nI wound up jotting notes into a journal I had in my purse then focused onto Morena on her cell phone. I also wound up playing with my fidget spinner that seemed to be broken a bit but it still worked. At least I'm not playing by my nails. Morena wound up ending the mall's trip which we went to Americaversal's store which there I didn't buy anything and neither did them. We both wandered around.\n\n\"I found a journal I liked to purchase.\" I said but Maureen said \"I insisted on you not to buying that thing out of how plain that notebook was.\"\n\nUgh. After we finished Americaversal's store Morena chatted to someone by phone for twenty minutes while in her car Ted and I sitting quietly. Morena after the phone call was a drive around Newtown which she showed us Sandy Hook's school. After the drive around was to Morena's house where she dropped Ted and I at his car than going inside her house to use the bathroom. Ted let me jot notes by journal in my purse till around six o'clock is when I quit paying attention to where we were going. We arrived to Win's Ville around six fifteen which Ted went to Dublin Donuts to buy coffee and then he took his pills around six twenty five. I got home around six thirty and wound up eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with my pills and then attended to my teeth. I phoned mom for an hour long phone call.\n\nAround eight o'clock mom started whining \"I wanting to get off the phone for a work shift tomorrow starting at eight o'clock in the morning twelve hours now.\"\n\nUgh. I hung up and wound up lap sat by the socialized kitty who kept the behavior up out of missing me. I think she was cold from the air conditioner used last night hence her lap happy behavior. Poor kitty! I didn't do much last night instead I watched TV mostly boring HG shows involving a themed house hunting for lottery winners. Ugh I found that boring actually and then around ten o'clock I laid down despite unsure of heartburn. Oh well. I didn't get heartburn during the night but around two o'clock I woke up for bathroom pee urges and then resumed bed till like eight fifteen woken up by daylight. I didn't do much besides sending emails to people and thought I would update my journal entry involving my day yesterday. Oh well.\n\nI woke up around seven o'clock with the voice blaring at me \"Get up time to get up!\"\n\nUgh I woke up but resumed sleeping for ten minutes is when I woke up for good. Also I wound up emailing people this morning before I went to take a shower. Only one friend replied to my emails while others ignored me. I think Morena responded to my email once I was done showering my cell phone indicating her emailing me. Ugh.\n\nMom text emailed me around nine o'clock our regular phone time in the morning me to \"Call at ten mom.\"\n\nI did that phoning which mom was whining \"I'm having a splitting sinus headache and not feeling good.\"\n\nThis is a pity anyway.\n\nMom ended call ten minutes later whining \"I want to go lie down and sleep off this splitting headache. Love you Vicky bye.\"\n\nThe operator said \"Person hung up GA or SK?\"\n\n\"Thanks SK.\" I said and I hung up.\n\nFor the records I hate the nickname of Vicky for my name of Victoria. I always hated the joke of sticky Vicky used onto me by bullies teasing me in middle school which only Mavis Petersen was my friend. I'm still annoyed that the bullies got my friends females I considered friends to dump me and call me sticky Vicky instead of the name of Victoria. I still haven't forgiven those bullies for that for my friends wound up having sexual relationships with the males and females' bullies in high school to my disgust. Yuck.\n\nTed wound up texting me around ten thirty \"I'm coming around eleven o'clock for a kitchen cleaning.\"\n\nUgh sucks.\n\n\"I'm here.\" I text emailed to Ted my response.\n\nTed arrived around eleven o'clock my cat on my lap indicating that arrival by getting off and running elsewhere. Poor baby cute kitten.\n\nTed cleaned my kitchen and said \"This is the dirtiest kitchen I ever cleaned.\"\n\nUgh not really quoting Ted but guessing on what he said. Oh well.\n\n\"You're a piglet what a piglet involving not cleaning the kitchen.\" I got from the voice followed by Merra's snickering laughter sounding into my mind like she told a joke for me to hear \"Sticky Vicky is a piglet with the kitchen!\"\n\nJeez Merra.\n\nAfter kitchen cleaning which ended around one thirty Ted said \"I have to go home to eat lunch.\"\n\nI did tell Ted \"I was planning on nuking French fries.\" but once he left I turned out to be a liar and nuked some bagels I ate with butter onto them.\n\n\"Liar, liar you lied to Ted!\" said voice ugh me and my eating habits.\n\nUgh dad text emailed me ten minutes to eleven o'clock saying \"At Sanne's. Called doctor to reschedule didn't hear back.\"\n\nUgh my doctor's appointment for tomorrow is being cancelled by dad being at Sanne's giving her health a priority over my health. He sucks with his priorities. Ugh.\n\nAlso once Ted left I text emailed dad saying \"Hi dad. How's Sanne doing? I've cleaned kitchen with friend's help. I'm eating lunch at home stormy weather outside.\"\n\nDad text emailed his response saying \"Raining here meeting Sanne at two thirty afternoon.\"\n\nUgh not really quoting dad and myself but taking poetic license with what we both said. Oh well.\n\nI wound up sick in the toilet with problems today hence I unable to do much besides suffering from number two's problems including voice attacking me at the time.\n\n\"Are you forgetting something forgetting some paranoid feeling!\" sang voice.\n\nAlso the handyman finally arrived with a shower stall handle which was good. I was able to shower around five thirty which I was sick in the toilet again multiple times. I tried to ring mom around six o'clock but her line was purposely busy and she refused to being picked up the damn phone. Damn mom for this phone games done onto me tonight. Ugh.\n\nI did text email mom around five forty five \"Its Victoria its six o'clock at home awaiting word phone wise tonight by weather so text email me mews.\"\n\nMom ignored my plea for a phone texting mews message ASAP. Ugh mom sucks big time when's she's does this joke onto me even when's I'm sick with the voice going off scaring me. Jeez mom!\n\nI feel like I said the wrong thing in my emails to people hence their balking responding to my messages. Ugh this is the pits big time when's I expects responses to my emails but get ignorance. Jeez people are terrible with their communications. Ugh. Jolica seemed to have given up responding to my emails. All she does is read my messages and refused to respond. Ugh I felt like something I've said turned her off from responding to my mews. Ugh sucks. This is the same attitude from Mavis too. I email Mavis but he won't be responding for he reads my messages. Ugh again. I had a weird dream involving a talk show host playing match maker with straight couples which she did that to me with a guy. Oh she's a lesbian and not straight so I doubt that she would do match making status. Ugh. Also that dream involved some Halloween room which I was to walk through while peering through my eyes covered by my hands. Ugh I don't get the dream involving that scary status. Yuck. I woke up around eight o'clock with dizziness and decided to get up anyway. Oh I think that dizziness involved me either tired or maybe jet lagged from my sleep of ten o'clock to eight o'clock. Ugh this stinks. Last night after a thirty minute phone call with mom I emailed Morena who read my message around nine forty in the evening but didn't respond. I emailed Jolica who read my lengthy email like I said but didn't respond. Ugh. I'm bored and rather depressed out of unable to do anything productive today.\n\n\"I wound up this morning throwing out some junk that was collecting dust into my apartment.\" I said to Morena who said \"I praised you with that throwing out of junk. Ted complained to me that your apartment is cluttered.\"\n\nI was talking to Morena from ten o'clock to twelve thirty is when she said \"I have to end chat to go eat lunch.\"\n\nI wound up telling Morena \"I'm having an area in my apartment to sort.\"\n\nI showed her a picture of items to toss out.\n\nMorena said \"I praised you like I said already. I seemed proud.\"\n\nOh nice.\n\nMorena has said \"I've been critical of your eating habits. I like you to eat something else than what you've been eating lately.\"  \n\"I've been eating heavily onto tots and French fries alone than with anything else to eat.\" I said in response to her question \"What are you going to cook for lunch?\" which I said my answer \"Tots and French fries.\"\n\nMorena said \"I find both foods inappropriate for you to eat alone. I insist you eat with veggies or fruits.\"\n\n\"Ugh I haven't been in the mood for veggies and fruits. I've been eating foods on what I'm craving to eat than eating anything decently healthy like veggies and fruits.\" I said.\n\n\"Ugh you should eat something healthy than that junk.\" Morena said.\n\nI meant to go eat those nuked veggie meals but I was craving bagels with butter on them for lunch than veggies. Ugh hence I eating two bagels with butter spread onto them including cupcakes and orange juice than anything else to eat. Ugh this sucks.\n\nAlso Jolica finally responded to my emails \"I love to eat food from Americaversal's store.\"\n\nHer email was short about food than anything else. I ugh felt like one email said something wrong that insulted Jolica to not respond.\n\nUgh hence I sent her another email last night \"I love to eat tots and French fries something that Morena my friend is insisting I not eat.\" which she replied this morning \"I love to eat food from Americaversal's store as my snack from work.\"\n\nI wound up with cravings for French fries but I didn't bother eating that tonight. I was sick in the toilet multiple times as a result that killed my appetite for French fries despite craving the food. Ugh. I realized I should have eaten fruits instead of heavily starch food like tots and French fries so I skipped that tonight for dinner. I had a plastic tin of strawberries and blueberries which I piglet onto than eating anything else. Ugh again. Also around the one o'clock hour I had some chocolate candy out of craving to eat them. Ugh that's the last time I'm eating that crappy junk food because I always wound up sick in the toilet with problems like thirty minutes later after eating that food. Ugh.\n\n\"I noticed I seemed to be lactose intolerant.\" something Morena said \"You seemed to be lactose intolerant. I insist you try to eat something else than a diet focused onto dairy products.\"\n\nUgh terrible big time when's my dairy diet of foods had me ballooned up to one eighty six pounds in weight hence I've been on my new diet of dairy less foods and drinks for around two years so far. So far I've lost weight around twenty pounds I think from my new diet. I seemed to be focusing onto lesser dairy products and trying to focus onto water to drink for my primary drinks. I do tend to drink something else than water if I'm not paying for my meals at a restaurant. I order water if I'm paying for myself. Ugh. Also I managed to try drinking orange juice instead of dairy drinks for calcium's needs for my bones. I'm trying lactose intolerant drinks like milk that's supposedly be friendly for the lactose intolerant. Ugh the milk I drink I bought from the grocery store tastes weird to me but I'm hoping to continue drinking that occasionally including the orange juice. Ugh again.\n\nI wound up sick in the toilet multiple times tonight hence I had a noisy head when I went to phone mom around seven o'clock \"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?\" sang voice \"Your always forgetful.\" I heard sounding of Merra.\n\nI talked to mom till like seven thirty is when she said \"I insisted on getting off the phone.\"\n\nI said \"I agreed on bathroom hitting me at the time for I have to go to the bathroom.\"  \nMom said \"Love you Vicky.\"\n\nShe hung up according to operator which I said \"Thanks.\"\n\nI hung up and hit the toilet with the voice blaring \"Forgetting some!\"\n\nI didn't do much once I got off the phone but went onto the computer to send Morena an email who was online but apparently onto her cell phone hence she not responding right away after I emailed her. Ugh sucks.\n\nI emailed Jolica \"I'm whining of my foods' habits including toiletry problems soon after I eat my dairy products food.\"\n\nI tried to be not so descriptive.\n\nUgh Jolica responded right away with \"Your diet needed adjusting.\"\n\nOh well. Jolica's like me involving the food and diet eating. She's tries to exercise and lose weight including watching what's she's eating too. I'm trying that behavior myself but the exercising haven't been much and same for my eating foods. Ugh.\n\nMom yesterday worked a weird afternoon work shift of two forty five to six forty five on her damn day off.\n\nThis sucks when mom was texting me twice in the morning for a talk on the phone \"Call mom!\"\n\nThe talks on the phone weren't much just ten minutes of babbling then hanging up and doing something else. Ugh. Also I wound up fooling around onto the computer out of needing something to do. I spent two hours computer staring till noon is when I quit to go eat lunch and focused onto the junk on TV like HG. Ugh. Anyway I was itching to type something but I couldn't seem to get into the mood to type anything besides search engine's queries. Ugh. I used a search engine to find the address of an author Nikolina Nikolai I favored involving her works.\n\nI was hoping to mail one of her books to Miss Nikolai to sign for me \"Hi can you sign this book to Victoria?\"\n\nI'm not entirely sure of that book's signage being done. I like to collect books of authors that are signed like autographed. Ugh hence I want one signed to me with my name and autographed like those Nikolina Nikolai's books I ordered awhile ago. Oh well again. I have four Nikolina Nikolai's books autographed which two are addressed to me.\n\n\"To Victoria good luck with everything you do writing wise love Nika.\" with commentary included with them.\n\nI'm hoping on getting another book autographed to me from Nika as she refers herself once the book comes out in November or late that month. Ugh. Anyway I wound up with a weird dream involving me working at a fast food joint restaurant while wearing some kind of hearing aid pack that broke hence I having to leave the job and go home. Also during that home's leaving I met Mavis from school who currently lives in the west coast in the state referred as Western Coast by the High Council.\n\nI met Mavis who drove me to an apartment building despite me having suitcases which he said \"I'm complaining of the stairs hurting my knees.\"\n\nOh we stopped by some amusement room for kids to sit around resting from walking around.\n\nI'm not sure of what to make of that room \"I wanted to play with the games.\" I said.\n\nMavis said \"I don't feel like playing games.\" so I went with him elsewhere.\n\nOh that's when's I woke up to \"Spoilsport you ruin my fun!\" talk by Merra.\n\nI'm not entirely sure of what to make of this weird dream anyway. I don't get the contents at all. I don't remember this being a memory or not. Oh well. I sometimes have weird dreams of memories that pop into my mind occasionally. I don't think that weird dream I had was a memory. I'm not sure if I remember this anyway. Oh crummy to not remember. Ugh.\n\nLast night around five thirty, I emailed Morena \"Hi Morena what's mew with you meow?\"\n\nMorena was online Chat's at the time \"Howdy Vika.\"\n\nWe chatted talking about stuff till nine o'clock is when Morena said \"I have to end chat to go do some personal hygiene stuff.\"\n\nAround nine o'clock I ranged mom up \"Hi Momsy how are you?\"\n\n\"I'm tired of tiredness.\" Also mom whined \"You needing to go take your pill at ten o'clock.\"\n\nI sort of fibbed or lied when I told her \"I took that pill already around nine o'clock.\" when I haven't \"Liar you lied to mom.\" Said voice which added \"Vicky you shouldn't lie to people it's not proper.\" Like Merra eavesdropped onto my mind and commented that.\n\nUgh.\n\nMom around ten o'clock said \"I'm insisted on getting off the phone.\" which I said \"I agreed bye mom.\"\n\nI hung up and wound up taking my pill for real and lying down into bed. Ugh again. Also I slept with the windows shut all night which in the morning I woke up around seven o'clock and decided to open the window airing out the stink into here. The air into my apartment was stuffy and smelly Eli of the cat's litter box including the toilet unable to be flushed. Ugh.\n\nI used to flush the toilet at all hours of the night after ten o'clock but downstairs' neighbor ranged my doorbell around midnight with a note \"I'm complaining of your noisy toilet too loud for my TV and keeping me up awake than sleeping.\"\n\nUgh hence I gave up flushing the toilet after ten o'clock at night even whenever I'm sick with those bathroom number two's voiced problems. Ugh.\n\nMorena said \"I find those all nights of you sick with voice and bathroom number two is your body's way of getting rid of something within you. I find this good but I booed that you was up all night with this problem hence you unable to sleep.\"\n\nUgh a pity anyway.\n\n\"Cool beans enjoy your reading.\" Jolica said in response to my lengthy paragraphed email to her in Chat's talking \"I got a signed book by Nikolina Nikolai the author autographed to me Victoria Yay me!\"\n\nI emailed Jolica \"My day yesterday was a visit to the town library which including the books I was reading and checked out by Nikolina Nikolai.\" hence Jolica's short response. Ugh. Jolica's hardly lengthy with her emailing responses to my wordy emails. Oh well this stinks big time when's I suspects she's lengthy with someone else but not so lengthy with me. I ugh blame Jolica's sister Juliet for being whose Jolica is lengthy with while short with me. Ugh again.\n\nI wound up nuking some veggies that came in garlic sauce in the microwave which I ate most of that but didn't have the whole bowl. I threw the rest of the bowl's contents into the trash and didn't eat the rest of the crumbs. Oh well. Also I have chocolate chip cookies I managed to put into my refrigerator after sitting into my kitchen cupboard ignored for awhile. I figured that putting the cookies into the refrigerator would be better for them to be preserved than sitting into the cupboard getting bad and badly decomposed. Yuck.\n\n\"It's Victoria its six o'clock home awaiting word phone wise tonight so text me mews ASAP.\" This is my message to mom's cell phone which I'm not sure if she'll pick up the phone at six o'clock or not.\n\nOh well.\n\nI sent Morena an email \"I'm telling you I'm fine for now.\" That despite I sick with the bathroom problem despite I should have said something but I didn't bother in response to her question \"Are you alright with the bathroom and voice?\"\n\nOh well. Also I emailed Tommy I nicknamed my Tom after awhile of not emailing him. He's not responding to my emails in awhile like I expected him to do. His communications needs work actually. Ugh.\n\nI emailed Jolica \"I'm reading books involving what I cared to read book wise involving both paper and electronic.\"\n\nOh she replied as soon as possible like she was online expecting my messages \"Well that's nice to read.\"\n\nMy week in a nutshell was Monday I didn't do anything besides staying home piglet eating food and slobbering after the furry bundle of fur with kisses and hugs' fests. Aw. \"Monday I'm to come to clean the bathroom.\" but he didn't \"Sorry Victoria I have to go see a doctor on health issues.\" according to his text email.\n\nUgh hence the bathroom isn't cleaned yet but I meant to go clean the toilet. Ugh. Tuesday was day of the schizophrenic's club meeting and laundry day for me. I washed and dried my clothes then after that attended the club meeting.\n\n\"The meeting will be about posters for Harlow's party next month.\"\n\nThis'll be great fun attending to the party.\n\n\"Oh well great for you Vicky.\" Merra said while blaring into my mind which got the voice blaring \"You're going. You're not going.\"\n\nAlso Morena after interpreting a deaf club member said to me \"I reminded you of an author Janna Japan visiting the school that Tuesday night doing a presentation onto her book.\" which I said \"I agreed to go.\"\n\nTed on my asking \"Can you drive me home? Can you pick me up for the author's presentation?\" Ted said \"Yes I'll drive you home and yes I'll pick you up at six o'clock for the presentation.\"\n\nI had dinner that was bread and strawberries but I wound up sick in the toilet with problems involving number two that got my head singing loudly \"Forgetting some! You're not going your going!\"\n\nYuck. The loud singing creep me out enough to trigger my paranoia off. Ted picked me up around six thirty.\n\n\"I've arrived!\" Ted text emailed me despite me not peeking out the window for him.\n\nUgh terribly rude of me despite he told me in the car \"Next time watch for me.\"\n\nAnyway Ted drove me to the school and found a parking spot easily which I went to the auditorium and spent most of that time reading Nikolina Nikolai's book \"Graces\" than paying attention to the author's presentation. Ugh rude of me. I was sick with the voice going off at the time hence I creep out unable to pay attention to Morena's interpreted signing including paying attention to the author's presentation. Ugh sucks hence I read Nikolai's book as a result.\n\nAnyway the presentation ended which I asked Morena \"How much does Janna charge for autographing her book to myself?\"\n\nI only had ten dollars worth of change money into my wallet.\n\nMorena rolled her eyes a pleasure like look from High Council despite a Human gesture of annoyance disgust and gave me twenty dollars \"You to use the money to pay for that author's book for autographed and signed but you owe me money for it.\"\n\nNice of Morena but I owe her twenty dollars for that book. Oh well.\n\nI got home around eight thirty.\n\nI ranged mom up by phone \"Hi Mom its Victoria. I apologized for not calling you at eight o'clock as you expected me to do.\" instead told mom \"Janna Japan the author did a presentation at the school as invited by Morena.\"\n\nI said nothing involving me sick in the toilet with problems involving voice to mom by phone.\n\nMom understood I whined of this problem once \"I'm sick with a voiced attack and can't talk to you now.\"  \nShe said \"I'll talk to you later tomorrow and hope you'll feel better.\"  \nI hung up saying \"Love you thanks.\"\n\nThe voice once I was off the phone with mom insisted \"Text your dad!\"\n\nThe voice habitually says that saying \"Text your dad!\" said that saying while I sick with the attack of voice involving the toilet's number two.\n\nI gave up texting dad as a result of those voiced attacks \"Dad I'm sick with a voiced attack tonight.\"\n\nDad said in response \"Go watch TV and just ignore the noises.\"\n\nI don't text dad whenever I'm sick with those voiced attacks. I just ignore the voice's orders and wound up sitting reading a book while having the TV on blaring crap. Sometimes I type onto the computer stories or editing one story out of needing something to do to concentrate onto. Ugh the voiced attack involving bathroom quit around midnight but I didn't get to bed till one o'clock is when I finished viewing a TV show on HG channel then I crashed and slept fine till like eight o'clock is when I woke up and started my day. Ugh. Also Wednesday yesterday I didn't do much besides kisses to the kitty then around eleven o'clock roped dad into driving me around for in town errands which he gave me a time of two o'clock during the Kelly Keller show. Ugh again to missing that show. I went to town library driven by dad around two o'clock which at library I dropped off two library books. One was Nikolina Nikolai's \"Graces\" I rate four stars online. The other book was something involving a High Council member seeking a romance like relationship that bothered me despite not reading that book. The romance with Tom put together by the High Council is what I blame for causing me to have a voice attacking me like triggering the voice to pick onto me. I blame this situation hence I refused to read books involving the High Council. Yuck I refused to acknowledge that I was born with this problem despite I blame my servitude with the High Council paired to Tommy is why I have a schizophrenic like voiced problem. Ugh. Anyway I picked up six books for four dollars and fifty cents.\n\n\"How much are those two books that were sitting onto your desk?\" I asked which the librarian said \"I was confused to why they were there but give me twenty five cents for them both.\"\n\nI obeyed which I picked up those two books then after that I went to Druggie as the High Council refer that drug store for pill refills \"Call that store Druggie as insisted.\" blared Merra.\n\nI at Druggie asked \"Is my pills need any refilling?\"\n\nThe pharmacist said \"No on refilling your pills.\" according to the pharmacist \"You was caught up.\" so I left the pharmacy store.\n\nVoice picked onto me while I was leaving saying \"Are you forgetting something?\"\n\nVoice led me to believe there was something I forgot to pick up from the pharmacy store I couldn't remember as a result.\n\nUgh sucks. Anyway I went grocery shopping which dad stayed into the car. I pulled out some money then used half of that to pay for some personal cleaning supplies like paper towels and toilet tissues. Nice I guess. Anyway once I was home I put everything away and then wound up throwing out the garbage. Ugh the dumpster was emptied out as a result. Oh nice. After dumpster was watching Dellen's show then local news till four thirty is when I went to HG because they were showing a press conference involving donkey turnip the idiotic king in the leadership position I don't care to watch. I don't care to watch donkey turnip shoot himself into the foot with his words have people criticized his wordings. Anyway around six o'clock I watched the sports report that aired around six thirty then I went to HG till seven o'clock is when I ranged mom up who ignored me. Mom wound up texting me \"You to call me back at seven thirty.\" which I skipped TV five minutes to that time and wound up journaling.\n\nI talked to mom for forty five minutes by phone from seven thirty to eight fifteen. Mom wasn't too chatty on the phone with me. She only was saying one to three words at a time and hardly anything else. Ugh jeez mom must be tired hence her lack of conversation mood hence she ended called around eight fifteen. I wound up watching the twins Chip and Dip brothers' show till ten o'clock is when HG went into boring house hunting themed show I didn't care for so I skipped that for bed and slept somewhat badly. Cute baby kitten was a pesky pest during my attempts to sleep. The cat was pawing my face and demanding attention from me she kept it up during my attempts to sleep. Dumb cat dumb animal quit that around three o'clock which I got up and hit the toilet then slept undisturbed till around eight o'clock is when I woke up. Ugh. Also I wound up emailing people which only Auntie Berliner replied to my email. Jolica read my second email but didn't bother replying. Ugh. Morena was emailed but she wasn't online to read my message hence her not replying and reading my message. Ugh.\n\nI wound up sick in the toilet with problems involving number two that made my head sing as a result. Yuck. I'm not sure of what I'm doing tonight other than talking to mom by phone when's it's time around seven o'clock like she asked me to do by cell phone texting message.\n\nI talked to mom for forty five minutes last night till seven forty five is when she said \"I asked to get off the phone because of working an early morning work shift Thursday morning at seven o'clock.\"\n\n\"Are you forgetting something forgetting some?\" sang voice which I said to mom by phone \"I agreed to get off.\" out of creepy out by the voice picking onto me at the time.\n\nAlso I wound up onto the computer editing one story to be told from third person he's point of view to me first person I point of view. Well nice that I did that including finished that story around ten o'clock is when I went to take my bedtime pill. Ugh.\n\nI wound up too creepy out with the computer so I went to the TV watching it while reading a library book by Charisma Chic. She's a new to me author I haven't read before hence I trying out her book. I rate Charisma's book around three stars out of five online but I'm not sure of what rating I'll give that book into my lists onto the computer. Ugh.\n\nI rate from anywhere from one star to ten stars depending onto my mood involving a book I read and finish I list onto my computer lists. Well Yay me for doing that listing anyway. Oh well. Also Charisma's book was a library book due within a week's time frame on Tuesday next week hence I stayed up reading and finishing that library book even while creepy out by the paranoia and the voice's talk. Ugh. I wound up emailed by the town library of a library book \"Blue pill\" by Nikolina Nikolai due within a week's time frame. I started that early this morning out of unable to sleep with the voice going off including paranoia. Yuck. I found Charisma's book had some vulgarity languages and sexual terms into that book's contents I didn't care for hence I rating that book three stars out of five online. I'll probably rate that book a low rating while into my lists onto the computer. Ugh sucks. \"Blue Pill\" is a medieval like teens book that's a part of Nikolai's Graces' series I already invested time reading her current books out. One is called Graces which other is called \"Blue Graces\" Their supposedly be stand by alones novels but I don't know what to make of the books. \"Graces\" I found rather interesting I'll rate it an eight into my book lists but rated the book a four online. Oh goody. Also \"Blue Graces\" was rather interesting enough to give the same rating involving my books' lists including online too. Nice! I rate Charisma's book a four onto my list onto the computer out of the vulgarity and sexual innuendo terms into that book I didn't care for at all. Yuck. I didn't care for the vulgarity languages of rhyming with duck and the word it too something the High Council frowns upon. They hate those words said into their presence and have asked Meritanians to dump whoever said those words in front of them to be dumped into the ocean. I didn't care for some of the sexual terms mentioned into that book including how sexy the author tried to make that book be. This turned me off and made me rate the book low as four stars.\n\nI wound up emailed by the High Council saying \"Please correct for mistakes involving grammar and stuff.\"\n\nI opened file and discovered according to the High Council's body \"An Entry into Edenia series told in letters of a character named Victoria Montreal.\"\n\nI was a little annoyed to get this email but kept on reading more of the file out of curiosity. File said Victoria Montreal is me aka creator of the Veronica Thomas Incorporation Publication for writing skills including me thinking of writing stories. I still type by laptop computer occasionally for the High Council's orders but that's lately for typing memories as they requested. Is it just me or is my life boring as usual? I find that my life is a bit boring. I don't know why. I think I'm bored with the same old thing, get up at a certain time and go to school. I'm getting a little sick of school lately. I just feel bored with school.\n\nI think I'm getting a case of \"I'm fed up with college\" bits again.\n\nI have a love hate relationship with college at University of Long River Place where I take online courses out of the High Council telling me in person by speaker Shad \"You Victoria Montreal is an original and not a clone by your colored blood of red color. You are ordered to remain isolated at Jinks Montreal's residence with Dalton the titled holder as he wishes to call himself.\"\n\nThis was done which I'm at Jinks Montreal's residence staying into his guest room as his well known daughter or offspring despite a cloned copy sent to be raised by Jinks aka Horus himself. I'm not entirely sure of what to make of this cloned copy being raised by Horus himself despite recalling that Victoria or a cloned copy was later sent to her brother's Robert Montreal to be raised further till adulthood. I'm not sure of what happened to Robert Montreal once I figured was fully grown. I know that Robert is an original and not a clone which I suspect that's he's sent to the Zesky Asylum to be contained into a tube for being an original. I think this is what originals of people are sent to tubes to be contained and sickened memories of cloned copies by the Meritanians thinking funny.\n\nI'm not spared of the Meritanians playing \"Sick the clones with memories of originals.\" Joke as a result despite I still get those memories occasionally to type them down.\n\nI liked college but now I want to quit for good. I've been going to college on and off since I reached the declared age of choice which is nineteen years old. I'm tired of wasting my money for classes that I'll only flunk or audit. I'm currently at the age of thirty years old despite looking like I haven't aged into my facial appearance. I'm not sure if I've aged or not or the High Council is making originals have some not aged appearance status to mark them.\n\nI'm taking this class called \"Women in Literature.\"\n\nThe teacher told me \"See me after class.\"\n\nI saw the teacher April Maple which brought jokes by students out of her earshot \"April gets your maple.\"\n\nI'm sure that April is a cloned copies of an original hence her rhyming name \"April Maple.\"\n\nMiss Maple I called her than calling her \"Professor\" told me \"You should audit the class to keep your student grades in standing.\"\n\nI said in response \"I'm not sure of that status but what does the school counselor Mister Dinnen says?\"\n\nMister Dinnen is a cloned copy of a Builder male who according to the files of the High Council \"Dinnen was power mad to be in a leadership position and doing anything to kick people out of that title to achieve it himself.\"\n\n\"I went to the school counselor to discuss this and the school counselor agreed with me so you're to audit the class.\" As said by Miss Maple as her answer.\n\nI asked her \"What about the homework assignments and term papers?\"\n\nMiss Maple said in response \"You auditing the class won't have to do the homework or term papers. Just show up for your attendance is mandatory as part of the auditing requirements. You still have to do the reading reactions homework assignment as I insisted on you to do. That's all I have to say so leave.\"\n\nMiss Maple gave me a golden eyed glare of a Builder I shocked to get that look from her despite unsure if she was actually a Builder clone. Oh well I left the classroom taking the driver a Highlander driving me to Jinks Montreal's residence building where the vehicle got inside by garage. I didn't do anything homework assignment wise once I was safety into my bedroom or Jinks Montreal's guest bedroom of his penthouse apartment that's somewhere in the middle of the building and blocked heavily from being seen outside it without any porches. Oh well. I'm just relieved that I won't have to do the term papers at all but I do have to do the reading reactions too. Ugh, I was hoping to get out of doing some work in that class. So I'm not sure what else I could do for college.\n\nI wound up text by Mavis saying \"You should see what other classes the college offers you.\"\n\nMavis is a Builder clone of someone else that's related to me and seen as a cousin despite a Builder himself who has some inner ability to see what I'm doing as always. He's tries to be discreet with his ability to avoid spying onto me but sometimes he can't help himself hence his text by cell phone to my cellular communication.\n\nDalton insisted \"No phone calls within the residence but texting only. I don't want to hear playback of people's conversations as recorded by the High Council in their presence.\"\n\nI obeyed to text to Mavis \"Nothing I can do involving college but quit being bored of it.\"\n\nMavis said in response \"My Mother raiser wants me to go a University in the state but this University costs about eight hundred dollars per class money which I don't have at the moment. I have to get a job for this just to earn for some college class.\"\n\nI wound up saying in response \"I would rather do something else instead like read a book. I brought some books this weekend-\"\n\nMavis interrupted \"I saw that you bought one on how to write a novel which you'll have to study really good because I want you to write my memoir book someday. I have to go to class talk to you later.\"  \nThat ended the conversation which I was going to say \"I finished a story I think. I really would have to find an agent to make a career of writing for a living. I don't know how these authors in the world can write books and get their books published.\"  \nI'm still trying to find out how people can get their stories published into books and things keep conspiring against me.\n\nI'm trying to ask people like my college professor April Maple \"How do you publish your work into writing form?\" and she said as always \"Find out yourself.\"\n\nThose people always seem not very helpful at all.\n\nI also keep trying to find someone like Mavis or Dalton \"Can you give me feedback on that story?\" but Mavis said \"I'm too busy to help.\"\n\nDalton as insisted by that titled name than dad said \"I'm not the person for you to get help with.\"\n\nI find their excuses make me think their either been lazy or way too busy to help. Humph, I'm not happy with that at all.  \nI've talked to people in class before the teacher arrives saying \"I hope to write stories and become a published author.\"\n\nThat people in class are mostly females hardly any males despite unsure if the title of women into the class is what turned males off from taking the class.\n\nI know there's a \"Men in Literature\" class but I haven't taken it on Miss Maple telling me \"Just don't take that class it's for males only.\"\n\nAnyway the females in class I've talked to have been very negative in response \"You'll do terrible in book sales if you ever get your story published.\"\n\nI hate it when people are negative about that. I like to write a story and publish it for people to read because I want to do that and earn some good cents too. I like to earn some money for a better living and if I have to do this by writing stories well I'll do that then even if I have to find out what I can do involving this situation using the internet.\n\nI figured I'll refer my journal entries to either you or to someone who I felt like writing to. I finished a book last night that is a self help book. I think I'll lend the book to you to read to encourage reading. I liked that self help book but the contents were a little girlish and strange. I think the book is geared towards women mostly. I'm not sure but the book's contents sure felt that way. The author is a woman Verona Vander who is a famous actress who wrote that book. I gave up reading a science fiction book by Terrific Terri as the author calls himself because I was feeling bored or depressed by the contents. I felt like I couldn't read that book anymore. So I set the book aside. That book I put aside is one of several books by Terrific Terri the author I didn't finish but will try to finish later. It's my second time reading that book by Terrific Terri. I'm feeling like I should have tried to finish that book but didn't. I also am not pleased that this book is part of a trilogy. I guess I'll have to read more of that author's books just to finish the series. I picked a book by Sharene Vander daughter of Verona Vander herself a book which I'm currently reading. I'm thinking of using that book as a bedtime book but the contents of the book are questionable for me to read before bed. The book is actually an adult fiction book. I say questionable because the contents are Sharene's stab at writing some children's stories in adult fiction. I'm hesitant to read that book before bed because of the contents of the book might disturb me well enough to keep me awake. I did read books by the Vander Incorporation before. I got the idea that I read the books by Vander family by the Meritanians compelling me to read those books. I guess I'll try my best to enjoy reading that book and will try to read book two of the second book once I finished this book one. Anyway I was lent two books I'm not even sure I'll get around to reading them. I'm not sure what to say to Morena who lent me those books. I felt like I had to take the books and read them. I figured I could always hold onto them for awhile and then give them back. Morena is a good friend who I haven't learned to say no to because I'm worried about hurting her feelings. I really should be up front from time to time on this. I'm disappointed that I haven't gotten to that point with Morena Latina as she's known by the name.\n\nI have to complain that I'm a spender of money.\n\nI keep writing to myself \"You to save money.\"\n\nI am reminding myself to not spend my money. I feel like I compulsively spend money on things that are junk. It's like an addiction that I can't control. I mostly spend money on books and food. The food is from school I nickname the local college I go to for classes and other places such as restaurants too. I have a lunch box which I should be toting along with some drink bottle too. I really should be using the lunch box and drink bottle for school instead of spending money on food. I also hate it when I buy books that some turn out to be really bad enough for me to set aside or lose interest.\n\nMorena has said \"I insist you to get books from the library.\" after I complain to her \"Those books I bought are horrible despite reading them and a waste of my money.\"\n\nI really hate having to read books under a deadline. I just hate having to do that deadline thing for book reading. I don't like deadlines but maybe I should try it sometime instead of buying books. I figured I should try the library and see if I like the book. I have about several books set aside that turn out to be lousy because I couldn't get into them or finish them. I'm feeling like I should really try to check out books from the library instead of buying them. I think I compulsively spend money without thinking. I also don't think I have buyers' remorse but I'm not sure if I really do have that. I think I do suffer from that sometimes but buyers' remorse doesn't stick around long enough to affect me very much. This has me spending tons of money when I should be saving my money. I really would like it if I could save my money instead of spending it compulsively. I had it with the compulsive spending. I ought to save my money instead of spending it. I feel like I'm all talk and no action. I talk about saving money and I won't save it but I would wound up spending the money instead, ugh.\n\nWith what happened at a college in Albany? I swear you High Council, keeps on making people inspired to commit acts of terror like getting a gun and shooting people in classes in your name. I'm not happy with the news lately involving people acting as Annoyovs as you call the people who act in terrorist acts in your name without you ordering them.\n\nThe school's officials by news keep talking into conversation during their broadcasts \"The school failed to go into lockdown two hours after the shooter shot some people.\"\n\nI feel like the school should have gone into lockdown after they found out the shooting. I'm also not happy with Albany College as that school is called not doing any apologizing towards you the High Council group for that inspired Annoyov behavior. I think the officials at Albany College should be fired for failing to do that safety behavior and apologizing. I also think some senseless deaths would have been prevented as a result of immediate lock down. I feel bad that the shooter is giving Annoyovs a bad name despite I know of a famous Annoyov servant of yours Tom Thunder himself. I'm wondering what happened to him nowadays? As I was saying I wouldn't be surprised if there would be anger towards famous Annoyovs because of what happened at Albany College. I'm hoping that I'm wrong about this anger feeling towards Annoyovs.\n\nThe news wound up saying \"This event will probably be known in history as a smear campaign against Annoyovs.\"\n\nI'm not happy that the famous Annoyovs known to do things into your name in peaceful ways will be hit with terrorist acts because of what I'm seeing on the news.\n\nThe news said \"We talking about this being one of the most deadly shootings in history.\"\n\nMakes me wonder what are they talking about? What about the Millennium tragedy where a continent piece of the United States was transferred from Planet Terra to Shadan or the planetary world as it's known Aire? Isn't that transfer a deadly history moment where many thousand people died? I think I'm confused here because I'm not so sure what I'm talking about. I'm disgusted that the school I go to have old men who are security guys. I think the school I'm in needs undercover people and some emergency phones. It's about time that they set up this security measure anyway. I also wonder about the college Morena herself works part time at Long River College in the State of Long River Place. I can't help worrying about some things that'll happen to be quite bad to Morena while she's at work. I'm not happy about what happened to colleges in the name of the High Council because I'm disgusted this happened. Ugh\n\nI did some sorting at your wife's house. I sorted through the junk in the attic parts of the house. The house that's willed to you by Samira Montreal your lovely wife has some attic spaces for my stuff to keep and store. I'm glad that I did some sorting today except I'm hoping that I won't have remorse for getting rid of some stuff I took out for the goodwill. This wore me out but it's good to be worn out to do this chore.\n\nA cloned copy of you I refer as Dad occasionally has told me \"You to do the chore of sorting because we both have too much junk at my house.\"\n\nI'm glad I was able to do several boxes of stuff for this. The job is still not finished. I have to do more sorting at the other attic spaces too. I guess it'll be worth the sorting to give to the goodwill. I like to give to the goodwill sometimes. I hate it when I get remorse for getting rid of some stuff. There were some clothes I decided to get rid of but I'm feeling a little remorse for deciding that. Maybe I'll feel better later and also I sometimes feel funny getting rid of some books too. I sometimes get rid of books I don't want to read or keep anymore. This gives me a weird feeling which bothers me sometimes. I hate that feeling because it makes me feeling like I'm guilty to get rid of a book. I managed to get over the feeling of getting rid of a book sometimes. It's nice to give things away to the goodwill for people to use.\n\nThis is like the saying \"One person's trash is another person's treasure.\"\n\nI think people should try to give things to the goodwill instead of trashing them in the trash. I've seen things in the trash on curbs which makes me wonder why they give to the goodwill instead of trashing them. I'm not happy about that. This makes me disgusted and upset about the people leaving things for the trash. The trash really needs to be sorted and cleaned out for more land to build things instead of rotting the land for junky stuff. I'm disgusted but at least I sorted my junk at your house as it's called.\n\nYour cloned copy has been living into a backwards town in Long River Place State dubbed \"Win's Ville\" unsure of that name.\n\nI know that name came from the High Council who said \"We insist on that name of Win's Ville than that name that rhymes with the word bin which doesn't make any sense.\"\n\nAnyway I cleaned out one attic of one part of the house but the rest of the house's attic I didn't bother to do that cleaning. I got too tired to clean some more plus your clone had three kitties trapped onto the first floor of the house while I was on the second floor sorting. The three kitties were heard making a racket of meowing from being trapped onto the first floor. Ugh drove me to not finish my job of sorting into the other two attics. I only sorted in one attic then once done opened the door to the stairwell which the kitties only one ran upstairs to sniff. The other one hung around demanding attention from me while the third a male dubbed Bogart ran into your clone's main bedroom to hide underneath the bed.\n\nBogart is habitually afraid of visitors and is close to your clone despite your cloned copy calls himself \"My name is Rob Marina refer me as dad, if you want, Victoria.\"\n\nI've been referring the clone as a clone as his titled name than anything else. I still call him daddy into his presence despite I'm not sure if he's still officially my daddy raiser by the High Council. Oh well. Talk more later on flip side Robert.\n\nI don't know what to type in here lately. I think I'm getting bored with things that my life isn't that exciting. That's what I get for living in Jinks Montreal's residence watched and spied on where I'm going. I'm suffering from being bored with a capital B, not much to add. I feel like I haven't heard from anyone in my circle on the college soccer team where I played goalkeeper. I don't know what's new with them despite I'm kept in contact by internet profile website.\n\nOne of the players on the soccer team retired like I am retired announced \"I had a baby boy last month.\"  \nHer profile lists her as married said \"I had my first child a boy named Carter.\"\n\nI find that good for her. I also have Mavis' family who considers me family despite Mavis' connection towards me.\n\nI found that Mavis' family involves Mavis and his younger brother Mason who announced \"My wife had a baby at the first of the month.\"  \nThe child is Mason's second kid I refer Mavis and Mason as cousins in the family way. Oh well. I think I'll just hope this cousin sends me an email and a picture of the new tyke too. I just don't know what to do in Jinks Montreal's residence lately. I'm just dying for the cold to come rolling. Today is really hot that I managed to brave the heat to go outside to the College's City Library. I'm glad that I have something to do on the computer. I'm just not sure why I'm bored. I don't know what else to do next. How boring of me.\n\nTime\n\nTime Gone  \nTime of old,  \nTime of young,  \nTime of all,  \nMinutes,  \nHands,  \nHours,  \nSeconds,  \nTicking away,  \nBit by bit,  \nLife and life,  \nBirth,  \nNew life born,  \nDeath,  \nLife gone,  \nYears,  \nCenturies,  \nDays,  \nGoing by,  \nForever gone,  \nInto the past,  \nNever to return,  \nAgain  \nBut remembered,  \nIn history,  \nBy the future,  \nFor eternity.\n\nI got up around eight o'clock in the morning excited about Lancemas Day when I lived into a dorm room with myself in a room shared by a door to another room that led to another roommate's part of the room. I recalled that Mavis came over to see me and we opened presents.\n\nI told by Mavis asking me \"What do you want for Lancemas Day?\" I said \"No religious themed gifts because I don't feel any connection with religion at the moment.\"\n\nMavis with a sheepish expression gave me some religious themed books based on the High Council group seen in a good light which I stuffed on the bottom of a box for storage at my Dad's house. I hate it when people promised that they won't do some thing and wounds up doing it. Also Mavis gave me some things I already had like a nightgown, a bathrobe and a pack bag. I already have the exact copies of them which I pointed out to Mavis.\n\nMavis said \"I keep on forgetting that I already gave you the items.\"\n\nThen we went to church called \"Saint Lance the Redeemer.\" where I daydream not paying attention to the sermons that I even fell asleep.\n\nI was daydreaming about some story ideas that have been running in my head. I like to type down stories and I sometimes have ideas in my head that I either write or type down onto the computer. So I fell asleep sitting in church with Mavis who shook me awake.\n\nI wound up told by Mavis \"You should visit your Dad's house in Win's Ville.\"\n\nMavis and I didn't hung out too long instead he saw me to my dorm room despite escorted by the dorm room's keeper guard some black skinned humanoid with black human eyes that seemed to know whenever ladies or females have visitors into their dorm room. It's eerie like this guard dubbed Guard Beers seemed to have some sixth sense to alert him of visitors visiting females in their dorm rooms including kicking out unwanted males trying to slobber kisses onto females for sexual favors.\n\nUgh anyway Mavis once he left I emailed dad in Win's Ville \"Do you want me to visit you?\"\n\nHe sent me an email saying in response \"Come see me when's its possible tomorrow the next day in the morning at eleven o'clock.\"\n\nDad always sleeps later than I do despite I'm disciplined to get up around eight o'clock in the morning every day including disciplined to crash into bed around ten o'clock at night.\n\nI packed a bag and slept somewhat poorly despite sleeping in church. That sleeping in church was rather rude of me. I once I could sleep only slept two hours till eight o'clock when the alarm woke me up. I'm always woken up by an alarm clock or I'll keep on sleeping never woken up unless an alarm like noise wakes me up. This is a problem I noticed I seemed to have inherited from the High Council themselves' cloning medical advantages done onto me. Oh well. Once eight o'clock arrived I woke up and got up starting my day which around ten o'clock Mavis came with the guard.\n\n\"You could use me.\" as said by Mavis who seemed to anticipate me going to Win's Ville.\n\nI thrust Mavis my overnight bag who said \"Ooh Vicky!\"\n\nFor the records I hate the name of Vicky for it reminded me of the joke \"Sticky Vicky\" as teased by students in middle school who outcast me for being daughter of a deathless male named Jinks Montreal.\n\nMavis acted as my bodyguard from Star's Hall as that town is called by the High Council as insisted than that name of Storrs in Long River Place State also known as Connecticut. The High Council insisted on the name change out of finding the name of Connecticut not making sense. Their responsible for name changes of various locations within the United States despite the nation isn't referred as America but referred as United States of High Council Republic.\n\nSometimes people refer the nation \"United Crap Republic\" Or \"UCR.\"\n\nI went to Mavis' family house to open a gift and I got some thing from him.\n\nA driver of the residence Jinks Montreal drove me to the Mavis' family house where I had lunch and then opened more presents. I even brought along my video camera and took some shots of the family and their cat a calico like female that's always cranky. After presents a declared Mavis' brother Mason and family wound up going home early which was followed by Mavis and I going home early too. I think Lancemas was ok but several relatives like Mavis' brother and wife including two off springs were falling asleep after opening presents. I think they were tired.\n\nMelanie as Mason's wife likes to be called said to me \"I'm being tired from taking care of a fussy baby.\" hence she falling asleep on the couch.\n\nI even saw one of the kids a boy toddler aged dubbed junior yawning while sitting on the couch with his mother. I have a Lancemas tree up in dorm's lounge room's place which I have to decide on when to yank that thing down. I could wait till tomorrow after Lancemas' is over to bring the tree down or wait till January sixth another holiday celebrating your association as an All Seeing One God that isn't celebrated very much.\n\nI think I'll sleep on the subject of taking down the tree waiting to see on whether I'll make up my mind. I think Lancemas was better holiday than the fiasco on Thanks' Day as said by the High Council to change Thanksgiving to that name. I'm so glad about that cause I got to celebrate the holiday with my family and relatives too.\n\nYawn, I've been tired lately as I remembered when I stayed in one of the apartments in Mountain View owned by Jinks Montreal himself. I heard a rumor that apartment complex was gifted to him out of someone loyalty towards the Lance Richard deity lord status. I've been getting up early for two days in a row as remembered around six o'clock. It'll be a third day in a row that morning and that's for class at another college I'm going for writings. I'm not a morning person and I find myself drinking caffeine soda so I could stay awake. Ugh I hate getting up early. I hate it when the weather is freezing in my place that I don't want to get up from my warm bed. Today the weather is freezing cold. Brr! I prefer to sleep late as around eight thirty. I find that I have to put up with bills such as high electricity bills because my heat is on electricity which means I have to be really strict on how high I leave the heat on. I also don't leave the heat on when I'm not home. I don't see why I should bother to do that. This costs me money. Today a house inspector came in today and examined the place. He found only two flaws but the rest of the place was fine. I just need to get a light switch fixed and a ventilator fan fixed and then the place will be in working order. I just can't wait, which means having to wait at a certain time for the handyman to visit and fix the two flaws. Last time I did that just for a toilet handle I wound up missing a class last semester for the handyman to visit and fix the problems. I really hate having to put my life on hold for the handyman to fix the two flaws in my place. Not my thing but at least the two flaws will be fixed. I think it's about time. So I just can't wait for bed tonight because I get to snooze some more. I also can't wait for weekend is when I get to sleep later than getting up early. I'm worried about the Landlord and the Handyman.\n\nI got a letter yesterday about the flaws and that there'll be another house inspection next month in Mars Month. What I'm worried about is the Landlord not providing a Handyman to fix the flaws found. I'm just worried about that because if I get kicked out, Dad won't take me back in his house. I don't want to go back to his house period. I like being in my own place and having stuff to do myself. I have mixed reviews about my first year in the place I've been living in. I just have to think positive about the Landlord getting the flaws in the place fixed in time for Mars' house inspection. I also worry about being kicked out too. I just will have to keep on thinking positive thoughts for this. I figured I'll wait till the beginning of Mars to complain to the Landlord if the Handyman hasn't made an appearance to fix everything that was listed in the letter by the house inspector. I can't help it that I worry about this. I have mixed reactions on living here due to fighting loneliness and boredom. I'm hoping that a pet will help to shake things up. I don't want to get a ferret for having a pet. I prefer to get a cat instead but I'm not sure what kind of cat. I've been eyeing my eye on this website of a local animal shelter. The dogs in that website have been mostly adopted except one. I don't feel like getting a dog at the moment. I feel like a cat will have to do for me. I just don't know if the landlord will grant me a cat or not. I just don't know at the moment. I have to wait till my lease is up in Mars to see if the Landlord will resign me. I also have a new worry about the Landlord telling me to leave after living here for a year. I don't know what I'll do then. I just will have to ask around for help if this happens. I'm hoping this won't happen at all. I can't help it that I worry. I guess I should stop worrying and leave it to a higher power like Lance Richard.\n\nMy friend Morena has a saying \"God helps those who help themselves.\"\n\nThe saying means to Morena \"God will help people if they help themselves with their problems.\"\n\nI guess I have to hope that my worries are for nothing and that I really should think of positive things instead.\n\nUgh, Valentine's Day, was a stormy day despite declared a day for people to make love by the High Council or having sexual games rituals. New York City is where I currently live in got hit with the snow storm named Agita. I wonder where they thoughts up with those names for a storm anyway. I had a good day playing hooky from school while home at Jinks Montreal's residence stuck into my bedroom. I mostly watched videos onto my laptop computer from a channel website I subscribe to. They were a women's college gymnastics meet from Albany College competing against Fashion Yorkville College. I saw a questionnaire pageant called Miss America on the laptop which Dad taped for me by emailing me the entire tape which I saw. I don't get much TV channels here in Jinks Montreal's residence and I had to get the cheapest internet service for my laptop. I had a lousy reception when I first moved in into Jinks Montreal's residence. I wound up with the cheapest internet service I could get from Dad's input of emailing me. He also gets cable too but it's the more expensive kind because he gets more channels. I feel like that Valentine's Day's weather ruined some people's day of Love. Ugh, who cares about love? I had a boyfriend who turned out to be a jerk who blamed the moment of love on a spell instead of taking responsibility. The moment of love was touching me on the chest just to feel me. He instead of taking responsibility told me some friend of his made a witch spell on the both of us hence he acting this way. I just don't buy it at all. I wound up feeling disgusted, upset and used too. I wound up breaking up with him on the cell phone. What a jerk anyway, who needs to love someone else that isn't family? I feel like I'm fated to be alone for the rest of my life except the future could have surprises for me. I could fall in love with a guy again someday. I just don't know who it is. There was a guy at school who I liked but he moved away and hasn't returned my email response message to his email at all. I think this guy is an either busy or a real loner. I just don't know at all.\n\nThere was another guy at school who I really liked when I first started school there in New York City people commenting \"Is she your girlfriend?\"\n\nI was hurt when the guy told other people \"She's just a friend and not a girlfriend.\"\n\nI never got around to telling this guy how I feel because he says \"I don't want to know much about you and your inner problems at all.\"\n\nThat's the truth and who needs love anyway?\n\nI volunteered to sell some sodas for a deaf school in Toronto dubbed Tornado's College. I volunteered today along with a pizza sale for Southern Long River Place's State's scholarship too. I sort of got roped into doing the soda sale too.\n\nI was at a writers' club class meeting other writers mostly students of the college to discuss our work which one asked me \"You willing to volunteer to sell soda for Tornado's College?\"\n\n\"I had nothing to do for the day of the soda sale.\" I blurt which the student a female appearing to be a Builder or Compeller using some mind control trick despite having an Asian like Highlander look onto her eyes.\n\nThe student said in response \"Terrific Vicky here volunteers for the soda sale.\"\n\nI wound up blurting out of compulsion \"I agreed to volunteer.\"\n\nThat was arranged and I got roped into service of volunteering to sell sodas despite another club the Annoyovs hosting a pizza sale at the same time.\n\nI told Morena on the phone some time ago \"There's a school for the deaf in Toronto dubbed Tornado's College which we're raising money for.\"\n\nMorena gave me a bunch of questions \"Where the money is going to in Toronto? What's with the school requesting money for college to give them? Why can't Tornado's College earn their own money without help from other colleges?\"\n\nI'm surprised with Morena and her stupid questions.\n\nI think Morena is saying \"I'm implying that the money isn't going to that school at all but to elsewhere like the High Council.\"\n\nI think I might want to ask around \"What's with Tornado's College having this money issue?\"\n\nAs for the soda sale was lousy because only ten people brought soda.\n\nThe people were said \"I'm more interested in buying pizza than soda.\"\n\nI bought one soda myself and so did about some other people too.\n\nI practically had to beg people to buy some soda too \"Buy some soda for Tornado's College please.\"\n\nI even asked \"Would you please buy soda?\" and some gave me \"No thank you.\" While others said \"I want pizza than soda.\" Ugh.\n\nI'm annoyed because the soda sale was lousy. I hate it when I put expectations high and they come crashing down to earth.\n\nEven one student I've seen hanging around me in my classes and in writers' club like a stalker named Tom Thunder said to me in response to me begging him \"Would you please buy some soda?\" He said \"People won't buy the soda because of the soda machines and the soda in the school cafeteria.\"\n\n\"This talk annoyed me!\" I said in response which Tom wound up adding \"Don't volunteer for soda sales anymore.\"\n\nI wound up once soda sale was done thinking \"I'm not sure if I'll volunteer for the soda sale again any more. I think I'll just let someone else do the work when it comes to selling soda.\"\n\nBy the way Tom Thunder is a member of the Annoyov club who seemed to be fixated onto me like a stalker or some male who's seemed to want me to do sexual games with him into bed hence he kept giving me this smirking smile whenever I see him around college. Ugh.\n\nMorena you by phone communications have been telling me \"There's the High Council group doing scams for money coming out of Toronto.\"\n\n\"I ask where you come up with this talk.\" I asked you by phone which you told me \"I got this from a TV News program about High Council's servants scamming people for money. This scamming was to make people serve the group in response to paying off a debt.\" I'm told.\n\nI don't know what to do. I wound up e-mailing the president Sydney Australia no joke on that name despite dubbing herself that of the writers' club I'm an officer of which I'm secretary. I hope the President knows what to do about this talk by you which your talk has brought some doubts and has made me upset about the school for the deaf in Toronto. I have no idea on what to do about this attitude of yours. I'm not happy about this at all. Anyway I'm frankly disappointed in your lousy attitude towards the money we worked so hard to rise.\n\nI'm just disgusted by your talk said \"I think your helping scammers of the High Council earn money.\"\n\nI had to e-mail the President of the writers' club about this talk of yours which I said \"I received talk from a close friend that the money earned for Tornado's College is really going to the High Council's group scamming people out of money. I'm just upset with this talk so let me know what I can do to assure this friend's fears.\"\n\nI just hope there's proof of the money going to the school of the deaf in Toronto.\n\nI really hope so, so I could prove it to you and your lousy attitude. Where did you come up with this scam crap anyway?! I can't believe that you got it from a TV program! I'm just annoyed and not happy with you at all. I am upset about earning the money for a scam. I'm hoping that this scam thing is not real but something you misheard. That's what I'm hoping for. If it is a scam what are we going to do with the money we earned? I guess we could use it for something else instead. I just hope the school isn't a scam at all and that's what I'm hoping for.\n\nI hate to have you tell me \"I told you so.\" when we find out if the school is a scam.\n\nUgh, I'm disappointed about that anyway in your attitude of finding the negative thing involving what we're doing is good. Yuck this annoyed me.\n\n\"Letters in the Edenia series featuring clone Victoria Montreal dubbed Yana Renova.\" This is written by the High Council insisting \"You to correct for grammar mistakes.\"\n\nI corrected the grammar and mistakes including emailing to the High Council \"Anything else I can do for you?\"'\n\nThey emailed in response \"Nothing else but thank you for your service.\"\n\nI didn't do much after that but I wound up with the voice going off as a result despite unsure of what to do tonight besides the usual taking my pill at five o'clock and hope it'll do it's job in cutting the noises into my head. Ugh.\n\nMom came over which cutesy cat let me know by getting off my lap and wounding up hiding behind the couch. Poor kitty is still shy around visitors. Oh well. Mom drove me to the town library where she bought a book by an author I doubt I would read. After that mom tried to buy a gift basket but the librarian didn't have anything for breaking mom's twenty dollar bill. This is really annoying. Ugh. After that gift basket was refused buying mom drove me to Ant's where we sat in the car waiting for whomever to show up. Uncle Budweiser as he's referred himself than no explanation to that beer name showed up. I pointed out to mom trying to take a nap in the car. Mom got Uncle Budweiser to help her with her fire alarm then after that Cousin Carina as she's referred arrived then Auntie Berliner followed by Uncle Jack Wiser Yay. Anyway we went into the restaurant and hogged two tables for eating our meals. Oh well I guess we were piglets eating food and gluttony galore. Oh sucks.\n\nI wound up into a writing conversation with Auntie Berliner \"Did you get your hair cut?\"\n\nI was talking about her new haircut she had which she told me something I didn't get it her words so she wrote them down into my notebook \"Yes I got a new haircut.\"\n\nI find Merra's voice was blaring into my mind making it hard to hear what Auntie Berliner was saying to me out of that I kept saying \"What?\" over and over.\n\nAuntie Berliner figured I was suffering from a voiced episode wrote down her answer. Well nice.\n\nAuntie Berliner wrote \"I had my hair cut for Len's granddaughter wedding. It was October nineteenth. So it does not grow that fast. So I keep it short and curly.\"\n\nI said as written out of Mom kept saying \"Your shouting.\"\n\n\"I'm growing my hair for wigs for people. My hair grows slow too.\"\n\nAuntie Berliner said by written \"I would I could but I dye my hair so they will not accept it. Your hair is natural it will not be a problem. So what else is new? I heard you went to a party at school and enjoyed yourself. That's good. How are your friends Morena and the rest?\"\n\nI wrote after I gave up voicing my answer on mom's shout comment \"Morena's doing great. I email her occasionally she emails me back. I've got gift card to Banera for Morena for Lancemas. She likes Banera. Also party at school was fun. I took home a pie mom and I ate Thursday.\"\n\nAuntie Berliner wrote \"That's nice. I made my own thanksgiving dinner. I miss making pies and cookies. I wish I had more time. The problem is I have is no one around to eat it even if I put it in the freezer. I end up throwing it out. So I cook as much as I can eat. This way it doesn't go to waste!\"\n\nThis is a writing conversation between me and Auntie Berliner at Ant's. I ate regular meal of Mickayla's meal of French fries and a hamburger plain but I didn't eat everything onto my plate. I only ate part of the meal and left some for the waitress to toss out. Oh well. Mom being a piglet ate her food including some of my curly French fries. Auntie Berliner had half her food while Cousin Corona only barely ate much of her food. Ugh a pity. Anyway it was Cousin Corona who paid for our meals.\n\n\"Thanks Cousin Corona!\" I wrote a note to her who she gave me a gesture of kissing onto her hand and towards me.\n\nUncle Jack Wiser handed out birthday and Lancemas cards which I figured he's going to be busy during Lancemas' season hence he's handing them out now. Nice I guess. I got one hundred dollars from Uncle Jack Wiser in two fifty dollar bills for my book safe's money. Nice. I got a cloth bag from the restaurant's worker handing them out. That's nice.\n\nAfter eating our food I had to pester my relatives \"We have to leave because of us hogging tables that people would like to use to eat their meals off of.\"\n\nOh well Uncle Jack Wiser took the message and left then Uncle Budweiser followed by us girls going out to the car to hug and then leave. Mom took a scenic sunny route home which gave her trouble seeing where she was driving because of the glaring sunlight blaring into her eyes. Poor Momsy aw I had to help her navigate by paying attention to where we were going. This is a pity.\n\nMom got me home and said \"I asked for the computer.\"\n\n\"Here kitty where are you, you silly fur ball?\" she said searching for my cutest cat ever.\n\nOnce she was done doing her search for the baby cat she decided to leave and not use my computer. Ugh I wound up socialized by the baby munchkin hanging around happy to see me home for a nice warm lap. Aw poor baby cat was cold hence she hanging around me for a lap sits including sitting onto my armchair. Poor kitty!\n\nThis is the files of one cloned copy Victoria Montreal Thunder servant of the High Council created for Recorder of Memories to record for files' sakes. End.\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n**THE TRAP**\n\nBeverley Kendall\n\nCopyright © Beverley Kendall 2014\n\nPublished by Season Publishing LLC\n\nThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.\n\n www.beverleykendall.com\n\n Cover Design © Okay Creations, Sarah Hansen\n\n All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.\n\n**  License Statement **\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n# **Note From Author**\n\nThere are some stories that need a beginning. Mitch and Paige's story,  **TRAPPED**, initially started in the aftermath of the pregnancy. But I found myself wanting to go back in time and tell how they came to be in that place. And that's how **THE TRAP** was born. I wanted to give readers more than just a flashback in time. I wanted to take the journey with them. As usual, what was supposed to be a 15,000 word prequel turned into a story closer to 20,000 words. I can't seem to write short. :)\n\nI hope that after reading **THE TRAP** you'll want to follow Mitch and Paige to their HEA in  **TRAPPED**, which is scheduled to be released early this summer. Also, this book (soon-to-be-series) is connected to my first new adult series, _Unforgettable Yo_ u. You'll be able to catch up a bit with **Zach** and **Olivia** , the hero and heroine of  **ONLY FOR YOU**.\n\nHappy Reading!\n\nBev\n\n##  THE TRAP\n\n#\n\n_Looking back, I should have seen it coming._\n\nPaige didn't like that I went so far away to university. But it was going to only be for two years. She'd join me after she did her two years at community college. I thought we could swing that no problem. We were solid.\n\nBut she hated the distance. She hated not seeing me every day. She complained that I didn't come home enough. She hated that for months on end, texting and phone calls were our only form of communication. It wasn't enough.\n\nShe'd ask about the girls on campus. She'd gotten it into her head that girls were always making a play for me. I laughed and told her, even if that were true, I'd never cheat on her. She didn't seem completely reassured by that.\n\nThe bottom line is, Paige thought she was losing me. She wanted me home with her. But I could never imagine the level she'd sink to—the trap she'd set to make that happen.\n\nAnd like an idiot I walked right into it.\n\n_And it's a mistake I'm going to have to pay for the rest of my life._\n\n# Chapter One\n\nPaige\n\nThree weeks ago I peed on a stick. What followed were ten of the most agonizing minutes of my life, before one plus sign turned my whole world upside down and inside out.\n\nSix hundred seconds.\n\nThat's literally how long it took for my life to implode.\n\nYou want to know what's so ironic about this?\n\nFour months ago I became an adult and six months from now I'm going to be a mother. Talk about being plunged into adulthood with a vengeance.\n\nThe thing is, as weird as this might sound, I want this baby—Mitch's baby—more than I ever thought I would under the circumstances.\n\nI mean he's it for me.\n\nThe one.\n\nAnd I'm pretty sure we'd have come to this at some point. Of course it would have been after we'd both graduated from college and were married.\n\nHowever, the situation is what it is. Now I just have to tell him. The thought of which causes the nausea I've been suffering the last two weeks to return in rolling waves, heating my face and turning my already queasy stomach. But being sick right now is a luxury I can't afford.\n\nI inhale a deep breath, wipe damp palms down the sides of my frayed jean shorts and try to compose my expression into something that doesn't reflect the dread and terror making mincemeat of my insides.\n\nAs I'm mustering up the nerve to knock, the door to Mitch's apartment flies open and his gorgeous face is the most welcome sight I've seen since the last time I laid eyes on him.\n\nWithout giving me a chance to do or say anything, he tugs me into his arms. He makes a grumbled sound in his throat and then his mouth is on mine.\n\nInstantly, my fears and gut-churning anxiety fall away. Going up on the balls of my feet, I wrap my arms around his neck and allow my senses to take over. For the moment, I'm more than happy to be led by them.\n\nWe haven't seen each other in what feels like forever. Ten weeks. Phone calls, text messages and skyping can't compare to this—being able to actually touch him.\n\nThere's a rough urgency to his kiss as our tongues and lips get down to the more serious business of getting reacquainted.\n\nWild is the only way to describe the way we go at each other, our breaths labored when we can come up for air long enough to take one. The kiss itself is toe-curling hot and I give as good as I get, sucking his full lower lip into my mouth. I know how much that turns him on.\n\nMitch emits a guttural groan and soon we're on the move. He practically drags me inside and I vaguely hear the door thump closed behind us.\n\nHe breaks the kiss and growls in my ear, \"C'mon, let's go to the bedroom.\" At the same time, his hands skim down my sides and then cruise back up to cup my breasts. My super-sensitive, swollen breasts that have grown almost half a cup size in the past month.\n\nA pained gasp escapes me before I can bite it back, and with it, I'm dropped on my head back into reality. My inescapable reality.\n\nMitch's head jerks up and back. My fingers have his dark-blond hair in a sexy disarray and his green eyes are still heated from the effects of our kiss as they widen in surprise before immediately narrowing in concern.\n\n\"What's wrong? Was I too rough?\" he asks in the same deep baritone that's been setting me on fire since our sophomore year in high school.\n\n\"No,\" I croak, trying not to wince. \"They're just a little sore.\" To put it mildly.\n\nMitch's gaze lowers to my more-prominent-than-ever chest.\n\nIt's bad enough that my current condition has me spilling out of my B cups, but my boyfriend's smoldering gaze isn't helping any. Under my fitted, white t-shirt, my nipples perk up at the attention. Shameless and clearly masochistic.\n\nHe curses softly under his breath and raises his gaze to mine. \"Is it that time of the month?\"\n\nThe weight of the disappointment in his voice is flattering and agonizing. There's nothing I'd love more than to spend the first couple hours of our reunion catching up between the sheets of his king-sized bed. But my news can't wait. It's the bomb that's been ticking for three weeks now.\n\n\"Kind of,\" I reply evasively, taking a small step back. Wait until he finds out that it won't be that time of the month for a very long time.\n\nHis shoulders drop as he expels a breath. Gradually, almost painfully, his mouth hitches up at the corners. \"I gotta tell you, the timing sucks.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I agree, forcing a smile.\n\nGod, he doesn't even know the half of it. But I deliberately continue to let him think what he's thinking because I'm worse than the lion from The Wizard of Oz.\n\nI haven't kidded myself that this is something he's going to be happy about. But it's not as if I think he'll bail on me. Actually, I know he won't.\n\nHow do I know?\n\nOne, because Mitch loves me. Yes, the last year has been hard because of the distance. Mitch is going to Warwick University, which is an eon away in upstate New York. To save money, I'm attending the local community college for two years here in Georgia. But the plan was that I transfer to Warwick after that. At least that used to be the plan.\n\nThe other reason I know Mitch won't bail on me is because he's not that type of guy. He's too mature and responsible. My mom thinks his parents' death matured him far beyond his years, and coming from Maureen Nichols that's saying a lot. Single mothers tend to judge men much more critically.\n\nNo, he won't be happy at first but he'll come around. And he'll want this baby as much as I do...eventually.\n\nMitch will make a great father. I know he will.\n\nAnd I know we can make this work.\n\n\"Mitch.\" I don't mean it to, but his name comes out a scratchy whisper. I nervously clear my throat and step out of the circle of his arms. Grabbing his hand, I lead him down the hall.\n\nAfter the car accident that took his parents' lives, Mitch went to live with his older sister, Diane, which is how a not-quite-seventeen-year-old, self-proclaimed jock managed to get his own apartment.\n\nHis sister married into an old-money Georgia family—and I'm talking big bucks. Her husband, Dan, is the CEO and owner of Tolston Homes, which is one of the premiere builders of luxury homes in the country. So you can imagine what their house looks like, right? Yeah, it's massive and luxury personified. I still try not to get all bug-eyed whenever I'm in the main house.\n\nThe thing is, Mitch has a five- and three-year-old nephew and niece, whom he adores. They, in turn, think Uncle Mitch is cooler and more entertaining than any amusement park or Pixar movie. You know what that means. Yep, they always wanted to be with him and were constantly underfoot. And in a house with more space than three families can possibly utilize, they made Mitch's bedroom their personal playground.\n\nDan suggested they renovate the house and add an apartment over the garage to give Mitch his own space.\n\nMy boyfriend thought his brother-in-law walked on water after that. And Dan, who is an architect by trade, doesn't do run-of-the-mill. Nope, he designed the kind of apartment that could be featured in his company's monthly magazine.\n\nThe place is absolutely gorgeous. The kitchen has a make-me-want-to-die-of-envy island and contains a large eating area. There are two bedrooms—one being the master suite—two bathrooms, a loft upstairs, and a huge family room with a vaulted ceiling.\n\nIn said family room, I make a beeline for the couch. It's chocolate brown, Mitch's favorite color.\n\n\"What's going on?\" he asks lightly but there's a wariness in his eyes.\n\nI sink onto the couch and tug on his hand to pull him down beside me. He acquiesces but continues to eye me, his forehead lightly creased.\n\nMy hands are starting to tremble so I release his and ball mine into tight fists on my upper thighs.\n\n\"O-kay, you're officially starting to scare the crap out of me. What's going on?\" Mitch's stare is intense, like he's trying to see—or more appropriately—hear whatever's going on inside my head.\n\nAt this point, all he'd hear is a jumbled, scared-to-death bunch of nonsense. My heart is pounding so hard, I can hear the slosh of rushing blood in my ears. It's the beginning of June and a hot eighty-five degrees outside, yet goose bumps have formed on my bare arms and legs. My tongue takes refuge at the roof of my mouth.\n\nThe silence that follows is the oppressive kind.\n\nI open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Mitch's eyes narrow, his expression becomes guarded and his jaw goes tight.\n\n\"Paige, are you breaking up with me?\" His voice is low and very controlled. He looks as if he's bracing himself for a physical blow...or a fight.\n\nI almost laugh at that. Almost. But the fear in his eyes strikes too close to my own. \"No. Oh God, no. Never. I love you,\" I say softly, my voice reassuring and heartfelt.\n\nRelief softens the line of his mouth and his hand engulfs mine completely. He gives me one of his half smiles. \"Well thank God for that.\" After a beat of silence, that look of concern is back on his face. \"Then what is it? Because I know it's something.\"\n\nAnd it's that look, so naked and raw with emotion, that loosens the words lodged in my throat.\n\nSwallowing hard, I bravely hold his gaze and say in a small voice, \"I'm pregnant.\"\n\n# Chapter Two\n\nMitch\n\nPregnant.\n\nThe more the word echoes in my head, the less sense it makes, and the less right it sounds. And when I picture the word in my mind, it just looks plain wrong. So I reject it. The meaning. The implication. Everything.\n\nPaige may as well be on the other side of the country because that's how removed I feel from this whole situation. My body might be here but my mind is...not.\n\nI don't even realize I'm shaking my head—denial the only thread I've got to hang on to—until Paige counters by nodding just as emphatically. \"I am, Mitch. I'm pregnant,\" she says, her voice faint and raw, while I grapple with the reality of it.\n\nThe pregnancy my girlfriend just dumped in my lap.\n\nThis is right about the time the world can stop spinning and I'd gladly jump off. I didn't sign up for this.\n\nAir. God, I need some fuckin' air.\n\nI inhale but there isn't enough oxygen on this earth that can ever make breathing easier ever again.\n\nMy vision must have gone hazy because Paige's face comes back into focus. She looks alone and afraid. But as much as that lost-girl expression makes me want to hold and comfort her, right now there's nothing I want more than to put as much distance between us as I can.\n\nI put my thoughts into action and stand, taking a couple steps back. Agitated, I run both hands through my hair, resisting the urge to yank the strands out by the roots.\n\nFor what feels like an hour, I simply stare down at her.\n\n\"Jesus Christ, Paige,\" I finally mutter, before turning and walking over to the kitchen counter. I need the damn thing for support. Elbows locked, I transfer my weight to the heels of my palms braced against the black-and-brown-speckled countertop. My shoulders are slumped and my head is down.\n\nI'm so in my own head, I'm not even aware of Paige—don't realize she budged from where she was sitting—until I feel her hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Talk to me.\" Her voice is as soft as her touch.\n\nDo I really have to? That's what I want to say. But of course I don't. It's not as if not talking about it is going make the problem go away. Plus, I want to know how this happened.\n\nPushing off the counter, I turn and face her. \"So this happened the one day I was home during spring break? That one night?\" If there's a note of disbelief in my voice, it's because she's on the Pill and we had sex exactly two times on my surprise trip home. At ten the following morning, I was on a return flight back to New York. I was home eighteen hours.\n\nBefore that, Paige and I hadn't had sex since Christmas break. If she'd gotten pregnant back then, she'd be at least six months along, which clearly she isn't. My gaze drops to her narrow waist, and then lowers to her slim, lightly tanned thighs. If anything, Paige has lost weight since I last saw her.\n\nDid I forget to say she's on the Pill?\n\nShe gives a hesitant nod.\n\n\"But how? You're on the Pill.\" We'd stopped using condoms when she went on birth control halfway through our senior year in high school almost two years ago.\n\n\"Nothing is one hundred percent effective, Mitch. You know that,\" she replies as if she's reading the warning straight off the box. \"Women have gotten pregnant on the Pill.\"\n\nFor crissakes. The last thing I want to hear is that we've become some unfortunate statistic.\n\nI let out a heavy sigh and tip my head back, my gaze going to the wood beams crisscrossing the ceiling in the family room.\n\nFuck shit fuck shit fuck shit. How the hell did she let this happen? Did she miss a day? Goddammit. How hard is it to swallow one fuckin' pill the same time every day? This is what I want to ask her but I can't bring myself to. Not when she looks like she'll break if I so much as look at her too hard. I give my head a mind-clearing shake and lower my gaze to her. \"What are we going to do?\"\n\nShe gives me a sharp look. \"I'm not going to have an abortion,\" she states as if preparing herself for a fight.\n\nGreat, she's reading my mind. Now I feel like a complete asshole. I know how she feels about that. We've talked about it in the past—one of those theoretical discussions of course. Paige hasn't taken a political stance on the issue but it's something she said she wouldn't personally be able to do herself. She'd rather give the baby up for adoption than abort it.\n\n\"I know that,\" I say, playing it off as if it wasn't something I'd been considering. At the end of the day, we're in this together. \"I meant do you want to keep it or put it up—?\"\n\nShe's shaking her head before I even finish the question, her dark-brown hair whipping over her bare shoulders. \"I want to keep it. I ju-just can't give our baby away.\" Now her voice is choked with tears.\n\nOur baby.\n\nThose two words cause a swell of guilt so overpowering, it's almost debilitating. I don't want to be reminded that this is my kid. Our kid.\n\nI immediately reach out and draw her into my arms. \"Baby, don't cry,\" I whisper, my mouth against her hair as I inhale the flowery scent of her shampoo. \"I'll do whatever you want.\" Who gives a shit about what I want, right?\n\nShe lets out a soft contented sigh, locking her arms around my waist. Whatever resentment I'm feeling is soon suffocated by my feelings for her. I love her. I'm going to be there for her.\n\nWhether I like it or not, we're having a baby.\n\n* * *\n\nWell I sure as hell can kiss Warwick goodbye. There's no way I can go back to New York after the baby's born is all I'm thinking as I watch Paige pull her tan Honda out of the driveway.\n\nThe second she's out of sight, I immediately go back to the kitchen and park my ass on one of the stools in front of the island. I rest my forehead against the cool granite instead of pounding it on it like I'm tempted to.\n\nMy life is so completely fucked.\n\nI could tell Paige wanted to stay but after fifteen minutes of us reassuring each other we'd get through this together, she got the message that I needed some time alone to process \"the news\". You know, let it sink in. Her words not mine. I told her we'd talk about what we are actually going to do later.\n\nHell yeah I need time to process it.\n\nWhy the fuck did we ever stop using condoms? I can lament that decision for the next year, but it's not going to change anything. I'm going to be a father.\n\nMe. A nineteen-year-old soon-to-be sophomore who lives with his sister and her family.\n\nI'm not ready to be anyone's father. Shit, I don't even think I'm ready to take care of myself.\n\nI'm definitely going to have to find a job. College may need to be part-time and I'm going to have to transfer my credits to one of the colleges here. And no more football, that's for sure.\n\nMy mind is spinning just thinking about how my life is going to change.\n\nThe sound of the doorbell ringing, followed by knocking jars me out of where I am in my head. Right now, it's not a nice place to be.\n\nIt's my best friend Josh. He's the only person who subjects me to the simultaneous knock/bell combination.\n\nI seriously think about ignoring him but my car's in the driveway so he knows I'm home. Which means he's not going anywhere until I show my face.\n\nFine. It requires a ton of mental effort to move but I do it. By the time I yank open the door, he's rung the bell two more times and I'm this close to breaking the finger he's spinning his basketball on.\n\n\"What the fuck's your problem?\" Right now, I'm pissed off at the whole world, which happens to include him.\n\nAll my growl elicits is a raised brow. \"Why aren't you answering your phone? I've called you about four times,\" he says as if I hadn't spoken.\n\n\"Paige was here,\" I grunt as he breezes by me. I kick the door closed behind him. Unlike my girlfriend, he doesn't give a shit if it looks like I'm not up for company.\n\nJosh is more like family than friend. He bloodied the nose of a nine-year-old kid who was picking on me when I was five. Josh was eight. He's kind of watched out for me since. Last year he graduated from Stanford and now he works at his uncle's computer company as a graphic software designer. He may dress and act like a jock but the guy's a lot smarter than he looks or lets on.\n\n\"Right, Paige. Is she still friends with what's her name?\" he asks, dropping the basketball on the wood floor and trapping it under his foot.\n\nI roll my eyes. \"As if you forgot her name.\" He acts like he can't stand Paige's best friend, Erin, but it's obvious to everyone but him and Erin that he has a major thing for her. I'd call him on his shit if I didn't have other way more important things on my mind.\n\nYeah, like the fact that my girlfriend is having a baby.\n\nMy kid.\n\n\"What's up with you?\"\n\nJosh's question snaps my gaze back to him. I shake my head as I walk back into the family room and over to the couch I recently vacated. My friend follows me. He knows something is wrong. And it's not as if I'm trying to hide it—or can hide it from him.\n\nLeaning forward, my forearms propped on my thighs, I watch him as he sits in the chair across from me. \"Paige is pregnant,\" I state simply. There's no point in beating around the bush, I just rip the Band-Aid off.\n\nHe makes a sound in his throat and his eyes go wide. Been there, done that.\n\nAfter several seconds of shell-shocked silence, his back lands against the chair with a soft thump. His gaze hasn't left mine.\n\n\"Tell me you're shittin' me.\"\n\n\"Do I look like I'm kidding?\" Guys don't ever joke about shit like this. He, of all people, should know that.\n\nA low whistle emerges from between his teeth. \"Holy shit.\"\n\nYeah, you don't say.\n\nNext comes the staring match. Josh blinks first but my announcement has left him speechless—a definite first. You see, Josh is the guy with all the answers. Well, except when it comes to women. Which is why this whole pregnancy thing is out of his scope of knowledge and definitely out of his comfort zone. There's only one thing he knows how to do with the opposite sex and it doesn't require a lot of thinking.\n\n\"So, what are you going to do? Is she planning on keeping it?\" he asks, finding his voice.\n\n\"Of course she's going to keep it,\" I snap in all my self-righteous hypocrisy. But he doesn't know that.\n\nHis hands go up in a gesture of surrender. \"Whoa, don't shoot a guy for asking. I don't know what's going on inside your girlfriend's head.\"\n\nI'm being a dick and I know it. Had the situation been reversed, I'd have asked him the same thing.\n\n\"Look, you gotta cut me some slack, I just found out today. And I don't know what we're going to do. But there goes football and I'm going to have to transfer out of Warwick.\" And just wait till I tell my sister. She's going to have a cow.\n\n\"You sure the kid is yours?\"\n\nJosh might as well of punched me in the face. Before I can get to him and tear his head off, he's on his feet, his hands so high this time, he's waving a white flag. \"I'm just asking,\" he says defensively. \"I mean you're up in New York most of the time. You don't know what she's doing when you're not here.\"\n\nIf he knew how close I am to beating the shit out of him, his ass would be halfway to his car by now. I stand and make a move toward him but the look on his face stops me cold. Something in his eyes tells me he's not simply trying to get a rise out of me. He knows something.\n\nI pull back and look him dead in the eyes. \"Is there something you want to tell me, Josh?\"\n\n# Chapter Three\n\nJosh visibly relaxes but he's smart and puts a couple more feet between us. \"Only if you promise to calm the hell down. I don't want to have to hurt you,\" he adds with a cocky smirk. That's his idea of humor and his way of dialing things down a notch.\n\n\"In your dreams,\" I say, keeping my temper in check.\n\nI'd like to think being a football player would give me the advantage in a fight between us, but we have similar builds and at six foot two, I don't even have an inch on him.\n\nYeah, the guy works a desk job but he wasn't nicknamed \"Josh the Jock\" for nothing. He may not have been good enough to go professional, but he's better than average in all the sports that count, which would be football, soccer, basketball and baseball. His mom is a Canadian transplant so he'd include hockey on that list.\n\n\"I'm not feeling your calm vibes,\" he shoots back smartly.\n\n\"Cut the crap. Do you know anything about Paige being with another guy or not?\"\n\nIn a flash, he's turns all serious on me. \"I just see her with that Calder guy sometimes and I can tell he's got it bad for her.\"\n\nI relax my stance and breathe easy. \"There's nothing there. They're just friends.\" Believe me I asked her about Trent when we first started going out. The deal is that their mothers are best friends. Paige said she thinks of the guy as a brother and I believe her because she's never given me reason not to.\n\nJosh let's out a dark laugh. \"If you say so.\"\n\n\"I think the guy's got it bad for Erin not Paige.\" And just as I thought it would, my bullshit statement takes the wind right out of his sails. I have no idea who Trent is into. But let Josh chew on that for a bit.\n\n\"What? Erin would never go for a guy like that.\" Josh's tone is dismissive but he doesn't look too sure about that.\n\n\"Whatever. I don't really want to talk about them.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right. Not that I care anyway,\" he says. \"So are you serious, you're just going to drop out of Warwick and that's it? God, man, don't you guys use protection? This shit doesn't happen by accident.\"\n\n\"She's on the Pill. It wasn't supposed to happen.\" A wave of sheer helplessness washes over me.\n\nJosh snorts. \"Yeah, I've heard that before. I don't give a shit what women say, I always come with my own protection. I'm not trusting that to any female.\"\n\nMy friend has serious trust issues when it comes to females. But that's a whole other story.\n\n\"Yeah, well I trust Paige,\" I say with conviction.\n\n\"And I've heard that before too.\"\n\nI shoot him a look that makes him take a step back. \"Fine, she's your girlfriend. You know her best. But I'm just saying, females have been known to pull shit like this.\"\n\n\"Look, I've got a lot to think about so...\" I look pointedly toward the door.\n\nHis lips thin as he stares at me for a few seconds, then with a sigh, he turns and strides to the hall where he retrieves his basketball. \"You sure you don't want to talk about it?\" he asks, staring back at me.\n\nI bark a laugh. \"Yeah, no. I think I've had enough of your pep talk.\"\n\nSome emotion I can't discern flickers across his face. \"Hey, I'm just looking out for you.\"\n\nWhich is what he's always done, even when I'd grown tall enough and became strong enough to fight my own battles. Sometimes, I think he's worse than my sister, who is way overprotective of me.\n\n\"Yeah, well just lay off my girlfriend.\" It's hard to stay mad at Josh because I know he means well—in his way.\n\nHe pauses as if he hopes I'll change my mind and ask him to stay. When I don't say anything, he smiles faintly. \"Alright, man, I'll see you around. Give me a call if you wanna talk or shoot some hoops.\"\n\nAs I watch him leave and hear him bounding down the stairs, I can't imagine when that'll ever be.\n\n* * *\n\nPaige\n\n\"So how did it go?\" Erin asks the second we're in her room. My best friend lives in one of the Tolston's homes in a community where the houses are called estates. Suffice it to say, her bedroom is half the size of the whole main floor of my house.\n\nShe tows me to her bed and I let her pull me down onto the pillow-top mattress. As crappy as I feel, I want to purr when my butt makes contact. If you haven't slept on one, you haven't lived.\n\n\"So?\" she prompts, tucking her hair behind her ears and leaning in close. So close I can see flecks of dark blue in her light-blue eyes.\n\nErin is a natural beauty. And by natural, I mean her dark-auburn hair doesn't come from a bottle. I used to envy her the four inches she had on me, and her bigger bustline until Mitch made it clear he was more than satisfied with me the way that I am.\n\n\"He was shocked.\"\n\n\"Yeah, tell me something I don't know. I mean what did he say? What is he going to do? Is he going back to New York—to college?\"\n\nMy shoulders lift and fall in a shrug that feels almost as helpless as I do. \"I don't know. We haven't talked about that yet.\" It's hard to look her directly in the eyes because she can read me like a book. That's what happens when you've been best friends with someone since kindergarten.\n\n\"Okay, so what did you talk about?\"\n\n\"We—we didn't really talk, he just said it was going to be okay,\" I say softly, remembering the pained look on his face. The expression that told me I'd shattered his dreams with I'm pregnant.\n\n\"So did he ask you to—you know...?\"\n\nGet rid of it. Get an abortion. She can't even bring herself to say it.\n\nThe truth is, I'd barely been able to get the word out when I'd told him I wouldn't have one.\n\n\"I already told you he knows I won't. Would never.\"\n\nShe'd been skeptical when I'd told her Mitch wouldn't ask me to have one because he knows I'd never do it. What I'm not going to tell her is that I hadn't given him a chance to ask because I'd been terrified that he would.\n\n\"So when are you going to tell your mom?\"\n\nIf never was an option, that's when I'd choose. \"Soon, I guess. She's going to need time to prepare.\" Figuratively and literally.\n\nDon't get me wrong, my mom is fantastic, which is why telling her is going to be so hard. She's the type of mother who will bend over backward trying to support me and her grandchild. And she'll do it with a smile on her face. What she'll try to hide from me is her bone-deep disappointment. I may technically be an adult but I'm still her teenage daughter who lives at home and isn't old enough to legally drink. I'm her baby.\n\n\"Hey, you're lucky. At least your mom's not like mine. Mine would go ballistic. Can you imagine Margaret Jean Bancroft having to explain something like that to her country club friends?\" Erin half jokes, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.\n\nMy friend mostly refers to her mother by her first name. They've got that unmotherly-undaughterly relationship down pat. Mrs. Bancroft criticizes everything her daughter does—this I've witnessed countless times over the years—and Erin has stopped trying to please her. It's been that way between them since about the time Erin was twelve and it doesn't look like it'll change anytime soon.\n\n\"Yeah, I know, it's just that I know she's going to be crushed. I know somehow, some way, she'll blame herself and wonder where she failed me,\" I say, my voice low and subdued.\n\nErin knows my mom well enough to know that's true so she simply nods.\n\n\"So when are you guys really going to talk about what you're gonna do?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Tomorrow I guess.\" I hope. I'll call Mitch tonight and see if he sounds more receptive—more ready to talk. I don't know what I'll do if he decides to go back to New York in the fall. And then there's football camp in four weeks.\n\n\"Are you going to tell him...?\" She doesn't say it out loud, just looks pointedly at me, and I feel her gaze like an accusing finger.\n\nThe only sound that can be heard in the room is the rustling of my hair as I give myself a vigorous head shaking.\n\n\"Never?\" she asks quietly. Too quietly. There's more than a little censure in her voice now.\n\n\"What would be the point? I'm already pregnant.\" And all it would do is give Mitch a reason to blame me. To hate me.\n\nShe nods slowly but I can tell by her expression that she doesn't agree with me. In her eyes, I'm lying by omission. In my mind, it's called not adding fuel to the fire.\n\nI shift uncomfortably on the bed but force myself to retain her gaze.\n\n\"You know, if he finds out...?\" Her voice trails off ominously, her warning and meaning clear.\n\nJust the thought has my heart beating hard and fast and for a second I feel as if I'm suffocating. I inhale a slow, deep breath in an effort to control my rising panic and the wave of guilt that threatens to consume me.\n\n\"He's not going to.\" This is one omission I'm going to take to the grave.\n\n# Chapter Four\n\nMitch\n\nThe following day, I arrive at Paige's house shortly before eleven in the morning. When Mrs. Nichols answers the door and ushers me in, she's all big smiles and warm greetings. It's obvious she still doesn't know I knocked up her only daughter.\n\nAs I follow her from the front to the foot of the staircase, she glances at me over her shoulder and remarks, \"And don't you look tanned and handsome. Is it my imagination or have you grown taller since the last time I saw you. And it looks like you've gotten broader in the shoulders. Is that what that university is doing to you?\"\n\nI should be used to Mrs. Nichols by now but I feel heat suffuse my face. I swear to God, she's the only woman who can make me blush. \"Yeah, well that and the weights. Gotta keep in shape for football,\" I reply, praying she'll quit with the compliments.\n\nIt would be one thing is she looked like a regular mom, but Paige's mom is the sort of mother who turns heads wherever she goes. Dark-haired, blue-eyed and slim, she's the older version of my girlfriend. And not even that old. She had Paige when she was twenty-one, which means she's not even forty yet. My mom was forty-three when she had me. I was one of those late-in-life babies.\n\n\"Paige is in her room. She's not feeling well though, but you can go on up.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Mrs. Nichols.\"\n\nShe laughs lightly. \"How many times have I told you to call me Maureen? You're part of the family.\"\n\nBoy, she doesn't know the half of it.\n\nBut I don't call any of my other friends parents' by their first names. My parents drilled that into me and old habits die hard. I just nod into her smiling face and head upstairs.\n\nShe's also the only mother I know who doesn't have a problem with her daughter being alone in her room with her boyfriend. But then Paige said her mother has always been realistic when it comes to sex and that kind of stuff. She promoted abstinence but also wanted Paige to be prepared and protected. Knowledge is power and all that.\n\nYeah, right. Look where that got her daughter. Still knocked up at eighteen.\n\nFuck! Fuck fuck fuck.\n\nI give a preemptory knock on the Paige's door before I enter to find her lying face up on her bed.\n\nStartled, she quickly removes a washcloth from her forehead, tosses it on the nightstand and pushes up onto her elbows. \"I thought you said you weren't coming until after lunch.\"\n\n\"My sister came home early and took Tess and Doug to their swimming lessons so I didn't have to stay.\" I advance toward the bed. Normally, all I'd be thinking about is joining her there and fooling around for a while. Now all I can think is it was all that fooling around that got us into this mess. Because really that's what this is. One giant complicated mess.\n\n\"Why didn't you call and tell me then?\" she asks, her voice a bit raspy.\n\nSince I don't know will either piss her off or make her cry, I don't say anything as I take a seat next to her on the side of the bed. She raises herself to a sitting position. Her long hair is a tangled mess and she's not wearing any makeup—not that she wears much to begin with. But today she's unusually pale.\n\n\"How're you feeling?\" I ask instead. \"Your mom says you're not feeling well.\"\n\n\"Not so great,\" she admits with a grimace.\n\n\"Yeah, looks like you had a hard night.\"\n\n\"More like I had a hard morning.\" She gives me this weird look and I stare back at her. \"As in morning sickness,\" she elaborates.\n\n\"Oh yeah, right.\" Shit, everything in my head is kind of fuzzy right now. I'm not thinking straight. \"So I was thinking a lot about...everything. I'm going to transfer to one of the local universities so I can live at home and be close to you and the baby.\" I hope to God she's not expecting a proposal. We may not be too young to make a baby but we're way too young to get married. I'm far from ready for that.\n\nPaige's eyes flare with emotion and her mouth starts to tremble. \"Mitch, are you sure?\" she asks in a hushed, anxious voice.\n\nAm I sure?\n\nI suppress a dark laugh because my girlfriend's staring at me as if her entire future depends on my answer. She doesn't want to know the truth. I don't think she could stand to hear how I truly feel and what I really want to do.\n\nEscape. Run.\n\nThe only thing stopping me is that I love her and she's having my kid. A powerful combination if ever there was to step up to the plate. So I bottle up the toxic mix of anger and resentment I can't seem to shake, and bury it as deep as it can possibly go.\n\n\"Yeah, I'm sure. You're going to need me closer and I'm going to need to get a job. I might only be able to go to school part-time.\" My sister manages the trust that was set up for me when our parents died. Even after Diane insisted I have her half, the money from their life insurance isn't enough to set me up for life but it would have been able to go a long way if managed properly. A baby will definitely take a chunk out of that.\n\nPaige isn't normally a crier so when she does—like now—her tears are their own form of kryptonite. Talk about being taken down for the count. Yeah, that's me. I'll do anything short of murder to make them stop. In this case, I pull her into my arms, taking care not to smush her boobs.\n\n\"I'm soooo sorry.\" She sniffs as her tears soak through my t-shirt. I kiss her wet cheek as she clutches my shoulders then winds her arms tightly around my neck.\n\n\"Paige, I'm not blaming you,\" I murmur softly into her ear. \"We did what we could. This isn't your fault so no apologies.\" Logically, I know that's true but a small part of me will always wonder if this wasn't something she could have prevented, which of course makes me feel like shit.\n\nShe cries harder and burrows into me.\n\nI get it. Birth control was her responsibility and now she's probably feeling guilty as hell. As much as this baby is going to change my entire life, I don't want that. If we'd stuck with condoms and I hadn't dumped the responsibility of birth control completely in her lap, we wouldn't be in this situation.\n\n\"Hey, come on. I'd thought you'd be happy to have me closer. Remember how much you've been complaining you never see me? Well you're going to be seeing me practically everyday from now on,\" I tease, hoping that will stop the tears.\n\nIf anything, she cries even harder. Suddenly she stiffens, pulls back and her hand flies to her mouth. I hear a muffled, \"I think I'm going to be sick,\" before she makes a dash for the door. She fumbles with the knob for a second before she wrenches it open.\n\nBy the time I follow her into the hall, she's in the bathroom heaving over the toilet.\n\nCrap! Bring on the morning sickness.\n\nI hurry to her side. \"Hey, you okay?\"\n\nShe's puking her guts out. Of course she's not, dumbass.\n\nI'm officially as useful as training wheels on a Harley. But what are guys supposed to do in situations like this, except to stand there looking like we don't know our ass from our elbow?\n\nAfter she finishes, she remains bent at the waist panting, her hair a curtain hiding her face. When she finally answers, she won't look at me. \"Please leave. I don't want you to see me like this.\"\n\n\"You want me to get you some crackers or something?\" Aren't they supposed to settle the stomach? I know my sister practically lived on them the first few months she was pregnant with both her kids.\n\nHead still down, Paige moves to the sink and turns on the water. \"Okay. Maybe they'll help.\"\n\nThat's what she says but I think she just wants me out of her hair for a bit. I guess no girl wants her boyfriend to see her like this. The last glimpse I have of her, she's dabbing toothpaste on her toothbrush.\n\nAll is quiet when I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I've fixed myself enough sandwiches in here over the years that I know where everything I need is. I grab a plate from the cupboard over the microwave and locate a box of crackers in the small pantry.\n\n\"You got everything you need in there, sweetheart?\"\n\nMy head jerks around hard enough to give me a mild case of whiplash. Mrs. Nichols is standing at the entrance watching me, her expression not conveying a hint of suspicion. Then why do I feel as if I've been caught breaking and entering?\n\n\"No—uh—no, I'm good.\" I hold up a sleeve of crackers. \"You were right, Paige isn't feeling well. I thought I'd get her something to eat.\"\n\nLame lame lame lame. She's going to see right through this whole cracker ploy for what it is. Attempts to settle her pregnant daughter's stomach.\n\nMrs. Nichols lets out an audible sigh as her brow puckers in sympathy. \"Poor thing. Those cramps have always been such a nightmare. For that reason alone, I wish she'd remained on the Pill.\"\n\nFor the second time in as many days, everything stops. My breathing. My heart. And I'm pretty sure the couple seconds it takes for her words to register and their meaning to sink in, time grinds to a halt too.\n\nPaige's mother chokes back a laugh as she takes in my expression. \"Oh dear, weren't you supposed to know that I knew my daughter was on the Pill? Or is it me talking about a woman's cycle that embarrassed you?\" she asks, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.\n\nI clear my throat. \"Uh no.\" It's a billion times worse than that.\n\n\"Good. It's just hard to see her suffering like this every month, especially not if she doesn't have to.\" She looks pointedly at the crackers in my hand. \"I used to give her them to settle her stomach back then too.\"\n\nI'm still locked in this sort of weird limbo fog of disbelief when she says, \"Give me a shout if you need anything.\" She turns to leave then pauses and shoots a glance back at me. \"Oh and you may want to take some strawberry jam up with that. That's how she likes them.\" With that, she disappears down the hall.\n\nIt takes me at least another minute to get my shit together, to control the emotion building inside. I'm too fuckin' calm when I dump some crackers on the plate and take the stairs back up to her room.\n\nPaige doesn't know it yet, but the course of this whole thing has just changed.\n\n# Chapter Five\n\nPaige\n\nThe second Mitch comes back, I don't sense something's wrong, I know it. When he walks over to the bed and hands me the plate of crackers, his expression is carefully blank. Accompanying his return and clinging to him like a second skin is a draft of wintery air.\n\nWholly unnerved, I accept the plate slowly and watch him with mounting apprehension. Instead of resuming his seat on the bed, with a fleeting glance at me, he moves and stations himself in front of the window. There he shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and peers through the vertical blinds out into the backyard. There's not much to see back there but a square, concrete patio and a small lawn that my mom's boyfriend, Randy, insisted on mowing last week.\n\n\"What's wrong?\"\n\nHe doesn't answer, just keeps staring out the window but it's obvious he's not looking at anything in particular. Plus his jaw is tight and his shoulders are bunched, which is the way he gets when he's tense.\n\n\"Mitch?\" I prompt, my anxiety climbing at double-digit increments.\n\n\"Are you still on birth control?\"\n\nMy heart jumps at the question. My stomach promptly sinks at the cold flatness of his tone.\n\nHe knows.\n\nIt takes me a few seconds to work up the nerve to reply. \"Not anymore.\" My voice is so faint it's almost nonexistent. I know exactly what's coming and it's fear that has me by the throat. Fear that's making it so hard to breathe and too easy to hyperventilate.\n\nHe angles his head toward me, one eyebrow quirked. \"Games? Alright, I'll play. Were you taking birth control the last time we had sex?\" he asks with exaggerated patience. But that tone is contradicted by the prominence of the bulging vein running down the side of his neck.\n\nHad I an hour to prepare myself for this question, I don't know that I'd be able to answer it. Not to his face. The guilt however, I'm pretty certain, is clear as day on my face.\n\nHands still deep in his pockets, he advances to where I'm sitting frozen on the bed. I can see the delineation of every muscle in his arms—tanned, taut and hard. Tense.\n\n\"Your mom thinks you have the cramps and she says if you hadn't gone off the Pill you wouldn't have to deal with them.\"\n\nIt's an affectation, the conversational tone he employs. His jaw is working as if it's cracking walnuts and in his eyes is an emotion I've never seen directed at me.\n\nLoathing. Disgust. Seething anger. A ticking bomb ready to explode.\n\nFor the first time in my life, I wish I had lied to my mom. She'd been poking around in my bathroom looking for eyeliner when she'd found my pills—two untouched containers of them, the date of the prescriptions months old. When she'd asked me if I'd stopped taking them, I'd had no reason to lie to her. She knew the problem I'd been having finding the \"right\" pill—something without the side effects I'd been experiencing since I'd gone on birth control. Plus, with Mitch in New York most of the year, I wasn't having sex all that much. Better to go back to using condoms, which I'd planned on telling him the next time he came home.\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me you'd gone off the Pill, Paige?\" Every word of his question is painstakingly enunciated.\n\nI gulp hard and briefly avert my gaze from his.\n\nSlowly I swing my legs from the bed and onto the carpeted floor. It takes all the courage in me to stand and look him directly in the eye. \"I wasn't thinking. I swear, Mitch, I forgot.\"\n\nAt the spark of disbelief and building storm in his eyes, I hurry on to say, \"I wasn't expecting to see you and I was so happy to see you...I forgot.\"\n\n\"That's bullshit and you know it,\" he growls in this deep, dark, scary ass voice. His anger is so palpable I might have retreated if the backs of my thighs weren't already butting the mattress.\n\n\"You should have fuckin' told me you'd stopped taking the goddamn pill.\"\n\nThe sound that emerges from my throat is so fearful and guilt-ridden it's barely above a whisper. \"I'm sorry, I—we kinda got carried away...\"\n\n\"No,\" he bites out in a voice that causes me to flinch. \"This wasn't an accident. You did this shit on purpose.\"\n\nThere is more than accusation in his voice. He's already convicted me.\n\n\"Mitch, you know my situation. Do you honestly think I'd get pregnant on purpose?\" I know this looks bad but I can't believe he thinks that little of me. That I'd be capable of something like that. God, it isn't as if my life isn't hard enough. I already have one student loan and I work part-time waiting tables. I pay for my own clothes, cell phone and car insurance as well as helping my mom out every now and then when money's tight. I'd be out of my mind to purposely get myself knocked up.\n\nHis eyes narrow and his lips compress into an inflexible line. \"You didn't want me to go away to college. You blow up my phone almost every night, almost like you're checking up on me. Oh, and you didn't tell me you'd stop taking birth control. I don't know, what do you think? Doesn't that sound like a girl who set out to get pregnant so she could ruin her boyfriend's life?\"\n\nFor the first time, my own anger catches fire and my face heats with it. \"You told me you wanted to be with me just as much as I wanted to be with you. Who was willing to ask his sister to release money out of the trust to help pay for my tuition at Warwick? And you called me just as much as I called and texted you when you were at school, so don't try to make this out like it's all me and I'm some jealous shrew.\"\n\n\"You lied to me, Paige. Don't you fuckin' get it?\" he says, breathing hellfire all over me as he gets right up in my face.\n\nRight then my anger dies a violent, defeated death and I can't meet his gaze. \"I swear, Mitch, I didn't do it on purpose.\" I tentatively edge my gaze back up to his. \"You remember how it was that time. We didn't even make it to your bedroom.\"\n\nWe hadn't even made it to the couch the first time. We'd only gotten as far as the welcome mat at the front door. My top had been pushed up, my bra pushed to the side and my jeans and panties had only come off out of sheer necessity. Mitch's jeans and boxer briefs had cleared his hips and that had been the extent of him undressing. What we'd done up against the wall of the front entrance had given a new meaning to the term fast and furious.\n\nIf anything, what I say only makes him angrier. \"I don't care if sex between us literally caused the earth to shake and the sky to fall, you should have fuckin' said something. You don't forget shit like that unless you fuckin' mean to.\"\n\nIf he wasn't staring at me like I'm lower than pond scum, the fact that he's dropping the f-bomb like there's no tomorrow tells me just how pissed off he is. I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard the word come out of his mouth the entire time we've been together.\n\n\"Mitch, I said I'm sorry. What more do you want me to say?\" Nothing I say now can undo the past.\n\n\"How about you try telling me the truth.\" He steps back as if he can't stand to be near me anymore.\n\n\"I told you the truth,\" I protest weakly, doing my best to stem the onslaught of tears.\n\n\"Yeah right,\" he snaps, treating me to a look of utter contempt. When he turns on his heels and starts toward the door, I unconsciously follow him there. Before I can say another word, he's already bounding down the stairs.\n\nI'm so stunned by his abrupt departure, all I can do is listen to him leave, the front door rattling shut behind him. Seconds later, his car roars to life.\n\nI stand there, my hands white-knuckling the doorknob of my bedroom door until I can't hear his car anymore.\n\n\"Paige,\" my mom calls out from downstairs.\n\nStill in a state of shock, I step out into the hall and approach the stairs, the pain in my chest near crippling. I peer down at my mom, who is standing at the bottom, her hand on the railing.\n\n\"Did Mitch leave already?\" she asks, looking perplexed.\n\nI'm afraid that if I try to speak I'll break, so I just nod.\n\nMy mom starts up the stairs toward me, her puzzled expression now full-blown concern. \"Honey, what's wrong? Did you guys get into a fight?\"\n\nThe closer she draws toward me, the harder it is to hold back my tears. My mouth starts to tremble and tears pool in my eyes. The thought of losing Mitch and just thinking about what I'm about to put my mom through is more pain than I think I can bear.\n\n\"Oh baby, what's wrong?\" she asks, her voice getting all panicky with alarm.\n\nShe hurries the last few steps to the top, immediately pulling me into her arms.\n\nThat's when I completely lose it. There's no stopping the tears now and they come hard and strong.\n\n\"Paige baby, what is it?\"\n\nShe holds my face gently in her palms, her tone urgent.\n\nI have to catch my breath before I can say it. \"I'm pregnant.\"\n\nA shocked breath escapes her lips. There's a pause then she closes her eyes and breathes deeply through her nose. When her eyes open again, there's no mistaking how hard the news has hit her. She looks devastated.\n\nA sob catches in my throat.\n\n\"Oh honey.\" Her voice is soft and mournful.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Mom,\" I whisper hoarsely, almost incoherent in my grief.\n\nShe hugs me tighter and I bury my face in the crook of her neck, crying my heart out.\n\n\"Don't worry, honey, I'm here for you. We'll get through this together.\"\n\nThe entire time she's hugging me, whispering comforting words in my ear, the only thing I can think about is Mitch. Is he going to be there for me?\n\n* * *\n\nMitch\n\nBetrayed. Duped. Conned. That's how I feel.\n\nAnd I trusted her. If anyone had told me that Paige would try to fuck me over this way, I'd have told them they were full of it. Paige pull some shit like this? Never in a million years. Not the Paige I know.\n\nYeah, that's how much I know the real Paige.\n\nWhy I ever thought she was different is beyond me. I mean this happened to two former buddies of mine, Carl and Don. You know where they are now? Working dead-end jobs. Tied down with a girlfriend and baby. We lost touch after high school—they barely graduated—but I see them around now and then. They both look like life screwed them over well and good. Someone told me Carl is on baby number two. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that their girlfriends had pulled the same shit.\n\n\"You owe me.\"\n\nAt Josh's voice, I lift my head from my beer and watch him drop into the chair across from me. He's wearing a pair of chinos and a button-down shirt, which is dressed up for him. I called him a half hour ago, about an hour after I left Paige's, and asked him to meet me at a hole-in-the-wall dive bar on the other side of town near the community college. They serve college students no questions asked, so no fake ID required. And boy did I ever need a drink.\n\n\"She must not have been that important if you dropped her to meet me here,\" I say.\n\nJosh grins, shrugging nonchalantly. \"I had to promise to take a rain check. I told her I had to go bail my friend out of jail.\"\n\n\"You're fucked.\"\n\n\"No, I was getting ready to get fucked and your call interrupted that,\" Josh replies, laughing. When I don't return his smile, his expression sobers and it's then he appears to remember why he's here in the first place.\n\n\"So what's up? Something happen with your baby mama?\"\n\nI glower at him. \"Fuck you.\" I detest that term.\n\nJosh barks a laugh. \"Alright, I'll shut it if you tell me why you dragged me away from Tiffany.\"\n\nIf I don't tell someone, I'll go crazy but I don't respond right away. Then I just spit it out. \"She stopped taking the Pill and didn't tell me.\"\n\nJosh makes a choking sound in his throat. He shakes his head, his expression disbelieving. \"Are you shitting me?\"\n\nYou see, he may have asked about Paige getting knocked up on purpose, but deep down, he didn't really believe she'd do something this low.\n\nI give him the do I look like I'm fuckin' joking look before taking a long swallow of my beer.\n\nWhen he realizes I'm not, he gives a low whistle under his breath. \"Holy shit. Man, that's pure evil.\"\n\nPlacing the bottle down in front of me, I prop my elbows on the table and rub my palms over my face.\n\n\"What are you going to do?\" Josh asks, quickly transitioning into full-concerned-friend mode.\n\n\"I don't have a fuckin' clue,\" I mutter. I'm too overwhelmed by everything to be able to think clearly.\n\n\"Are you one hundred percent sure the kid is yours?\"\n\nMy gaze snaps to Josh's and I can tell he's not trying to yank my chain.\n\n\"Shit man, she goes off the Pill without telling you. You don't know what else she might not be telling you.\"\n\nYesterday when he'd asked the same thing, I'd been ready to beat the crap out of him. In light of everything, today I really have to consider it. Because today I can't say I know my girlfriend well enough to say she wouldn't get knocked up on purpose, so I sure as hell can't say I know her well enough to know whether she'd ever cheat on me. What if she had been cheating on me? It's not as if she'd tell me. She'd keep me in the dark the same way she'd have kept me in the dark about going off birth control.\n\n\"Fuck, I don't know. She says it's mine but what the hell do I know.\" What I do know is that Paige is more than capable of lying about some pretty big-ass things.\n\n\"Well before you do anything, I'd get a paternity test. You sure as hell don't want to drop out of Warwick for a kid that's not yours. And with a kid, you're going to be on the hook for child support until the kid's at least eighteen.\"\n\nAs pissed as I am right now, I can't bring myself to believe that Paige cheated on me. I've seen her around what's his face and I never saw anything there. If he's hung up on her, he's done a pretty good job of hiding it and if she has a thing for him, well she sure as hell fooled me.\n\nNo, I don't believe it. But it won't hurt to have a paternity test just in case I'm wrong. And it's obvious I've been wrong before when it comes to her. Wrong on a scale that will cost me for the rest of my life.\n\n\"Don't be a chump. Get a paternity test,\" Josh reiterates in a hard voice as if he takes my silence for me wavering.\n\n\"Right, I gotcha. I'll ask for a paternity test,\" I say tersely.\n\n\"Don't ask for one, you moron, demand one.\"\n\nI scowl at him. \"You know what I mean.\"\n\nHe meets my glare head-on, his own expression grim. \"No I don't. Your girlfriend has you wrapped around her finger. Which is exactly how you found yourself in this situation in the first place.\"\n\n\"Right, like I need this shit from you now,\" I say, pushing the chair back and standing. I'm outta here.\n\n\"Jesus, Mitch, calm down. Sit your ass down. I'm on your side or are you forgetting that?\" Josh grabs my arm, his hold on it strong.\n\n\"It sure as hell doesn't sound that way.\" I jerk my arm free but I make no attempt to leave.\n\n\"Is this how you're going to act when you don't like what you hear? You know what I'm saying is the truth,\" he reasons, not sounding so much the know-it-all asshole anymore.\n\nI drop back down onto the chair and he relaxes back into his, but his expression is uncommonly stern and rigid. \"Face it man, she wanted to tie you down. Females only go off their birth control for one reason and that's to get pregnant. She set out to trap you. Classic female trying to hold on to a guy. But for God's sake, think really hard about what you're going to do, even if the kid is yours. Don't let this chick ruin your fuckin' life.\"\n\nI shake my head, weary and defeated. \"Yeah, well, it's too late for that.\"\n\n# Chapter Six\n\nPaige\n\nIt's been two days since the big blow up with Mitch. He hasn't called or stopped by. I've called him twice and both times it went directly into voicemail. And honestly that's something I didn't expect. Even when we've fought in the past, he's never turned off his phone or ignored my calls.\n\nBut this is no regular fight I had to remind myself. Forgetting to tell him that I'd gone off the Pill turned out to be life-changing.\n\nThis whole thing is new territory for me so I didn't feel comfortable leaving a voicemail. I mean what would I say? Do you still hate me?\n\nShould I apologize again and continue to plead my case?\n\nAll those options didn't sound right unless I was doing it face-to-face. But it's obvious he's not ready to listen to anything I have to say.\n\nIn the meantime, I've basically stayed holed up in the house biding my time and waiting for him to calm down. Erin came by yesterday and patted my back while I blubbered all over her. I told her what happened and she never once said I told you so. Even if she thought it, I'm happy she didn't say it.\n\nShe likes Mitch despite—as she says—his unfortunate taste in best friends, whom she claims to hate with a fire of a thousand suns. There's no doubt in her mind that Mitch will come around. She once admitted that she was envious of our relationship, the way he treats me. I remember feeling so puffed up at the compliment.\n\nI'm standing in front of the refrigerator, the cold air scarcely registering on my bare legs and arms, contemplating what I'm going to have for lunch when the doorbell rings.\n\n\"I'll get it,\" my mom shouts from the front hall. My mom is a real estate agent, so she pretty much gets to set her own schedule. I think she's been purposely sticking close to home to keep an eye on me. I can tell she's worried about what's going on with me—the pregnancy—and what's going on with me and Mitch.\n\nMy heart feels as if it's pounding five hundred beats a minute when I hear a muffled male voice. I immediately glance at my cell phone, which I'm holding tight in my hand. I haven't let the damn thing out of my sight, jerking every time it buzzes or rings from an incoming message or phone call. I just know Mitch is going to call.\n\n\"Paige honey, look who dropped by.\"\n\nThat's when I know it's Mitch. My mom's voice is a mixture of relief and happiness.\n\nClosing the refrigerator door, I hastily run my fingers through my hair and try to look composed as I exit the kitchen, making sure to temper my pace so it doesn't appear as if I've been lounging around the house waiting for him to drop by.\n\nThe second I spot our visitor towering over my mom's petite form, everything inside me deflates.\n\nMy expression must have given me away so I try to infuse some enthusiasm into my voice. \"Trent. Hi.\" I can tell by the looks on both their faces that I failed by a good mile.\n\n\"Maybe I should go out and come back in again?\" He glances down at my mom and winks. \"You think she was hoping I was someone else?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Trent. I am happy to see you,\" I insist, pushing aside the acute disappointment sitting heavy on my chest. I walk toward him, straight into his open arms.\n\nI adore Trent. Maybe if I hadn't known him since I was six, I would have fallen hard for him the second I started liking boys that way. Short, dark-hair, light-brown eyes, dimples, and a killer smile, he's a fatal attraction waiting to happen. Fortunately for both of us—and our mothers—he's the older brother I never had.\n\n\"Good, I'll let you two catch up. I have a house to show up near Mill's Creek.\" My mom fishes into her purse and pulls out her keys. \"Trent honey, make sure she eats something and don't let her mope around the house.\"\n\nWe wait until my mom leaves before Trent shepherds me into the living room, his hand casually around my shoulder.\n\n\"So, you going to tell me what's going on?\"\n\nI glance up at him and I know he knows. He didn't just show up here by chance, he's here on a mission. We sit on the couch beside each other.\n\n\"Who told you?\" I ask. \"Your mom or mine?\"\n\nHe sighs, giving me a tight smile. \"Mine.\"\n\nI nod.\n\n\"What's going on with you and Mitch?\"\n\nI answer with a humorless laugh. \"I don't even know. I haven't heard or seen him in—\"\n\nThe chime of the doorbell cuts me off and my heart takes off at a gallop. This time I know it's him.\n\nTrent is a vague afterthought as I spring to my feet and hurry off to answer the door. When I wrench it open, Mitch is standing on the other side. He's dressed in faded blue jeans and a light-gray tee. He looks tanned and beautiful, a sight for my sorely deprived eyes. I drink him in first before my gaze settles on the grimness of his features.\n\n\"We need to talk,\" he says.\n\nNo hello, no greeting, just that. My heart sinks as I step back to let him in.\n\nI don't realize until Mitch directs his attention behind me that Trent followed me out into the hall. Upon seeing him, Mitch goes still. His gaze darts between us as Trent comes to a halt at my side.\n\nMitch's expression darkens and something cold and hard enters his eyes.\n\nI have nothing to be guilty about but that doesn't stop my face from going up in flames. \"Trent just stopped by to say hi.\" I couldn't have sounded guiltier had I been caught frantically pulling on my clothes.\n\nWho am I fooling? I know the real reason for my guilt. And it has nothing at all to do with Trent.\n\n\"Kingsley,\" Trent says, acknowledging Mitch with a tip of his chin.\n\nIt's not as if Mitch and Trent have ever been the best of friends but they've always been cordial. However, the vibes coming off my boyfriend right now cast them more as bitter enemies. Rivals.\n\nMitch completely ignores Trent and repeats, \"We need to talk. Maybe your boyfriend can come back when I'm gone,\" he says, sarcasm coating every word.\n\nMy jaw goes slack.\n\nNo. He. Did. Not.\n\nA ghost of a smile lifts the corner of Trent's mouth but his eyes are narrowed and ice cold.\n\n\"It's going to be like that is it? Well, you can believe whatever makes you happy.\" Turning his attention to me, Trent asks, \"You want me to stick around?\"\n\nI shake my head vigorously. \"No, you go. I'll be fine.\"\n\nMitch's jaw twitches and I can practically hear his teeth grinding. \"It's fine with me if we discuss this in front of him. I'm guessing he's already heard the good news.\"\n\nI can see where this could go and I'm not having it. \"Thanks for stopping by, Trent.\" I don't say I'll catch up with him later for fear that will be the beginning of World War III.\n\nTrent holds Mitch's stare as the air pulses with explosive tension. \"You do anything to hurt her and I'll—\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\" Mitch growls, taking a marked stepped toward Trent. Suddenly I'm standing between them, my hands on my boyfriend's hard chest.\n\n\"Trent, just go,\" I say in an urgent, panicked voice. Trent is four years older than Mitch and an inch taller. Between the two, I don't know who would win in a fight and I don't want to.\n\n\"I'm going. Call if you need me.\"\n\nMitch angles his head over his shoulder as he narrowly tracks Trent's exit.\n\nWhen the door clicks closed, his attention shifts back to me, his gaze dropping to my hand that is still resting lightly on his chest. He steps back as though he can't bear to have me touch him and pins me under his glacial stare.\n\n\"Is the baby even mine?\"\n\nI gasp, the verbal blow causing a physical pain in my chest. I become lightheaded and for a second I think I'm going to throw up or pass out.\n\n\"How can you even ask me that?\" I choke out when I've partially recovered from the shock of it. The insult of it.\n\n\"You're a liar, Paige. How the hell do I know what else you're lying to me about? All I know is that he's here when I'm not, which gives him a helluva running head start. The whole friend-of-the-family thing could be a convenient cover.\"\n\nOn the heels of the hurt, anger begins to bubble to the surface of my emotions. \"You know damn well nothing is going on between us.\"\n\n\"No. No I don't. I only know what you tell me. And we both know what you're word is good for these days.\"\n\nI don't even know what to say. Right now, he's not someone I can have a calm conversation with. No matter what I say, what I do, he's going to find a way to turn it on me.\n\n\"Is this what you came here to talk about? A relationship between me and Trent that only exists in your head?\" I ask in a too-calm and level voice. I'm shutting down, closing myself off from him. I feel it.\n\nFor some reason, my question seems to piss him off even more. His mouth tightens as he locks his jaw. His nostrils flare as he draws a deep breath. \"I want a paternity test.\"\n\nI'm not sure how I remained standing. His demand levels me.\n\n\"Are you serious?\" I ask quietly, so much disbelief and grief in my question, I don't recognize my own voice.\n\nSome unknown emotion flickers across his face before it's a cold mask again. No, not as much cold as scathing and contemptuous. \"You know, you're a real piece of work. You purposely get knocked up and turn my life ass-backward, and you're insulted when I ask you for a paternity test when it looks like you're screwing the family friend?\"\n\nI've never seen Mitch like this. Never. And I never expected to have this kind of wrath directed at me. But I know exactly what he's doing. What he's trying to do.\n\nMy spine lengthens as I fold my arms across my chest. \"You know this is your baby. You know it.\" I'm sick and tired of being his punching bag.\n\n\"I know shit. And it's obvious I never knew you. Not the real you.\" By the tone of his voice, I can clearly hear what he thinks of the \"real me\".\n\nA vital part inside me is slowly dying. \"Why don't you just say it, Mitch, instead of pretending it's Trent or anything else? You don't want this baby and now that I'm pregnant, you don't want me.\"\n\n\"Did I ever pretend I wanted to be a father at the age of nineteen? Did you see me jumping for joy when you told me? Let's stop pretending that for one second, you didn't know that I wouldn't be the least happy about this. And while you're at it, stop pretending that you didn't plan this down to the last fuckin' detail. You wanted this. You wanted me tied to you for the rest of my godforsaken life. Well, I hope you're happy.\"\n\nI digest it. I digest every single word he spits at me. When I blink, in the milliseconds before my vision is filled with his face, his expression, the contempt and loathing there is burned onto the back of my lids. I know every time I close my eyes, that's what I'll see.\n\n\"Get out,\" I say softly, abruptly dropping my hands to my sides and clenching them into tight fists.\n\nHis eyebrows gather over the bridge of his nose and he stares at me as if I'm nuts.\n\nI say it again. No, I scream it. \"Get out!\"\n\nSurprise sets him back for a few seconds and he falls silent.\n\n\"You don't want this baby, fine. I don't need you. I'll manage fine without you. You won't need a paternity test because I'm not going to ask you for a thing. I don't want a fuckin' dime of your money. You don't want this baby? Good, because I don't want you.\"\n\nI march past him on wobbly legs—at least that's how they feel. I whip open the door and turn to face him. I don't care that tears are streaming down my face or that my throat feels sandpaper-raw. \"You don't want to be a father, well consider this your out. Now get out.\"\n\nI make myself look him in the eye when I speak to him. And in the ensuing silence, I pray he'll say something—anything that will take back some of the horrible things he said to me.\n\nBut he doesn't. With no more than a hard stare, he mutters something unintelligible under his breath and stalks past me. When he's gone, I stand with my back against the door breathing deeply. Soon my breathing is coming in panty little gasps and then hiccups. Slowly, I sink down until my butt hits the floor. By then, I'm sobbing uncontrollably, my heart broken beyond repair.\n\n# Chapter Seven\n\nI don't know how I survived the next week. I kept thinking Mitch would call, that he would come by and apologize.\n\nInstead there was nothing. Not a call or a text. Not a single word.\n\nMy mom has played Switzerland since I told her about our latest drama. Although it looks like Mitch has pretty much abandoned me—something I'm still trying to wrap my head around—she hasn't said a bad word about him. I think she figured out that I'm the one who screwed up. I'm just relieved she hasn't come right out and asked me. I don't know, maybe she thinks what's the point in dredging up something we can't change.\n\nErin, on the other hand, cursed up a blue streak; Mitch being on the receiving end of that, of course. She gets why he's angry but essentially accusing me of cheating went over the line as far as she's concerned. I'm pretty sure there's a story behind it—one she won't talk about—but the whole paternity test thing is definitely one of her triggers.\n\nToday makes it three weeks since the big blow up and I can't take the waiting anymore. I can't stand not knowing what he's thinking. Are we truly over?\n\nWhich is why I'm here, standing nervously in front of his door. A queasy stomach doesn't help my nerves any, but I managed to down six crackers this morning and a cup of hot chocolate. I pray my breakfast won't make a reappearance.\n\nMy heart is hammering in my throat upon hearing footsteps and then the slight rattle of the knob before the door opens.\n\nI'm rendered speechless at the sight of Mitch's sister. We both stare at one another in surprise.\n\nDiane's hair is blonder than her brother's, her eyes are a darker shade of green, but the siblings share a very strong resemblance. At five foot nine in her stocking feet, I still have to look up at her when I'm wearing my three-inch heels. In my flat leather flip-flops, it's a far way up.\n\n\"Hi, Paige. I'm—I mean this is a surprise.\"\n\nIs it?\n\nI wonder what Mitch has told her. Does she know about the baby?\n\n\"Hi,\" I say weakly. \"Is Mitch home?\" His car isn't parked in the driveway but sometimes he parks it in the three-car garage.\n\nDiane's brow lightly crinkles as she continues to stare at me, looking more confused than ever.\n\n\"Sweetie, Mitch went back to New York two weeks ago. I thought you knew,\" she says, her tone full of sympathy.\n\nGone.\n\nMitch went back to New York.\n\n\"Oh. No, I didn't know. I-I—we haven't spoken in a couple weeks.\" I sound dazed, not quite with it.\n\nDiane reaches out to touch my arm. \"Why don't you come in and sit down?\" she asks gently as if realizing what the news has done to me.\n\nI shake my head. I don't want to sit down. I just want to go home to my room and curl up on my bed until this whole thing is over.\n\n\"No, I'm fine. I didn't think he was going back so soon,\" I say in a pathetic attempt to save face.\n\nShe awkwardly withdraws her arm. \"He told me you guys broke up. He wouldn't tell me what happened, but I want you to know that I'm always here if you want to talk.\"\n\nHe told me you guys broke up.\n\nWow, I guess that answers my question. We're done. I'm pregnant and he's gone.\n\nI force a smile that challenges my facial muscles. \"Thanks, Diane, I appreciate the offer.\"\n\nBy the expression on her face, I can tell she knows I'll never take her up on it. You don't break up with someone and keep in contact with their closest relative. And the baby—well if he didn't see fit to tell her about it, I'm not going to.\n\n\"Are you sure you don't—\"\n\nI'm shaking my head before she can finish. \"I've got to go. Thanks for—for everything,\" I mumble. With that, I turn and scamper down the stairs.\n\nOnce I'm in my car, my hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, it's practically cutting off the blood flow to my fingers. I let out a ragged breath that comes out sounding closer to a sob.\n\nI peek a glance up at Diane, who is still standing in the doorway. Worry creases her forehead, narrows her eyes and tightens her mouth. It's the same way my mom's been watching me lately when she doesn't think I'm looking.\n\nI go into automatic pilot and drive home. I won't let myself cry. Not here. Not now.\n\nBy the time I park and hop out of the car, my stomach is lurching like crazy. I make a mad dash to the front door, fumble with the keys and unlock the door on the first try.\n\nI'm just able to make it to the bathroom near the kitchen before my stomach gives up my breakfast.\n\n* * *\n\nMitch\n\n\"You want to tell me what is going on, Mitch?\"\n\nMy sister's voice is sharp and reproachful. I knew I shouldn't have picked up the phone. My gut tells me it has something to do with Paige.\n\n\"What're you talking about?\" I mutter, eyes closed and the stale taste of alcohol in my mouth. That and my pounding head remind me how I spent the previous night. Drinking until I could barely stand.\n\n\"Paige was just here...looking for you.\"\n\nMy sister's statement causes the pain in my head to explode, spreading to every other part of my body. I don't want to think about Paige. Have been trying like hell not to think of her since I came back to New York.\n\nI can't trust her. She's a liar. A manipulator. She's as selfish as they come.\n\nThese are the things I have to remind myself constantly. I don't want to remember the look on her face the last time I saw her. I'm not the one who should feel guilty. She should.\n\n\"She didn't even know you'd gone back to New York,\" Diane says when I don't respond.\n\n\"We're not going out anymore. She didn't need to know.\" God, it hurts to talk. I slowly pull myself up on my bed, my head protesting every inch of the way.\n\n\"Are you going to tell me what happened between you two?\"\n\nDespite the sixteen-year age gap between us, my sister and I have always been close. Everyone used to say that was because she's the only one in the house who had the energy to keep up with me. She says it's because she always wanted a younger brother. Unfortunately, sometimes that age difference makes her think she can treat me like the boy she used to carry around on her hip.\n\nSwinging my legs to the floor, I inform her, \"No, because it's none of your business.\"\n\nThere's a moment of silence and then a long sigh. \"Mitch, she looked—\"\n\nI close my eyes. \"Stay out of it, Diane,\" I growl. I don't want to know how she looked. It's been hard enough trying not to think about her. Hard enough to get the image of her out of my head.\n\n\"Look, I've gotta get going. I'll talk to you later.\" I don't give her a chance to respond, I simply end the call.\n\nI toss my cell onto the bed and clasp my head in my hands. It continues its relentless pounding. My throat closes up until it's almost impossible to swallow.\n\nI think about Paige. I think about the baby.\n\nYou don't even know for sure it's yours, the sane voice in my head cautions.\n\nYeah you do, asshole. The other voice is just there to fuck with me. I hate that voice. It knows shit about anything and if I listen to it, I'm doomed.\n\nMy cell vibrates beside me and my only thought is that it's my sister calling back. And she'll keep calling and calling until I answer. I snatch it up and blindly answer it. \"Diane, I'm not in the mood.\"\n\n\"Yeah, no shit. Sounds like you tied one over last night.\"\n\nMy shoulders slump, losing some of their tension. It's Josh.\n\n\"Your sister giving you a hard time?\"\n\n\"When isn't she?\" I reply.\n\n\"So how's it going?\"\n\n\"It's going.\"\n\n\"Heard from Paige?\"\n\n\"We're done. Why would I hear from her?\"\n\nJosh lets out an audible breath as if he's exasperated with me. Well he can join the club. \"You're seriously not going to get the test?\"\n\n\"I already told you what she said to that.\" Now he's pissing me off.\n\n\"You know there's a good chance the kid is yours, right?\"\n\n\"Whatever.\" The baby isn't here. It's not real, and I'm not going to let myself think about what's going to happen down the road. I won't. It'll just drive me crazy.\n\nAnyway, she's the one who told me to go. And after what she did, she should damn well understand why I want a paternity test.\n\n\"Does your sister know?\" Josh asks. He thinks I should have told Diane before I flew back to New York.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"When are you planning on telling her?\"\n\n\"If Paige wants to tell her, she can. I'm not saying anything to her until I know for sure it's mine.\"\n\nThere's a long pause and I imagine Josh is rolling his eyes. This isn't the first time we've had this conversation, and I'm sure it won't be the last.\n\n\"What's your problem? You're the one who first said the baby might not even be mine. Now you're acting like you ran the damn test yourself and that the kid is mine.\" He's my best friend. Isn't he supposed to be on my side?\n\n\"Yeah, but you're not even going to have the test done. I thought you'd at least do that. What if the kid is yours?\"\n\n\"You know what, let me deal with this my way, alright? The last time I took your advice, she kicked me out of her house,\" I snap.\n\nWhat is this, pile-on-the-guilt day for Mitch?\n\n\"Cool. You do that,\" he replies curtly.\n\nThis time I turn my phone off when Josh hangs up on me.\n\n# Chapter Eight\n\nPaige\n\nI didn't know four months could pass so slowly. A snail's pace would be the apt term. I guess that's how it feels when you're pregnant. You watch the clock all the time.\n\nIt took me three months to stop expecting to hear from Mitch. School started back over a month ago so I'm sure he's right back in the swing of things. It's obvious he's doesn't care about me...or the baby.\n\nI forcefully push those thoughts out of my mind as I drop my book bag at the front door, thankful it's the tail end of a long day. Monday and Wednesdays are killers. I have four classes. The first class starts at 8:05 in the morning, and the last one isn't over until after five.\n\nIt was weird going back to college pregnant, especially now that I'm showing. There's no hiding it behind roomy blouses or thick sweaters. The bump is small but it's prominent as I'm not a big girl to begin with. Although if you ask my mom and Erin, you can't tell I'm pregnant from behind. Is that supposed to make me feel better?\n\nLike most commuters, I haven't made that many friends at the community college but the few I talk to and eat lunch with have been really supportive. Julie and Allison know all about Mitch. They only met him once and, reacting to him the way most girls do, declared him swoon-worthy. Julie teasingly told me I was one lucky bitch. Not so lucky now. We don't talk about him anymore.\n\nTonight, my mom won't be home until late. She has two showings and then she's going out to dinner with Randy, which means I'm on my own for dinner. That's okay. These days, I love having the house to myself a couple days a week.\n\nI head to the kitchen and ponder what I'm going to do with the chicken I'd taken out this morning when the doorbell rings.\n\nMy stomach does that flippity-flop thing and my heart speeds up. Logically, I know it's not him. It's not. But I can't help the way my body reacts to unexpected phone calls and doorbells. Or a car pulling into my driveway when both Mom and I are home. I hate the way it reacts.\n\nI turn and trudge back to answer the door. It's probably some guy selling Kirby vacuum cleaners.\n\nNo, it's not a sales guy nor is it Mitch, but it's as close to my ex as it's probably ever going to get.\n\n\"Diane.\" Her name leaves my mouth on a puff of air.\n\nBut she's not staring at me—at least not at my face. Her eyes are glued to my bump. If I look surprised to see her, she's beyond shocked to see me in my condition.\n\nMitch never told her. That much she's just confirmed.\n\nHer eyes are enormous in her oval face when her gaze snaps to mine. \"You-you're pregnant,\" she stammers. Poor thing. I feel sorry for her. It has to be hard finding out this way.\n\nI step back and open the door farther. \"Would you like to come in?\"\n\nWithout replying, she enters the foyer, her gaze repeatedly darting from my face to my bump.\n\n\"Mitch didn't say anything?\"\n\nLips parted, she shakes her head. Clearly she's in shock. \"It's his baby,\" she finally utters.\n\nI want to laugh. Mitch doubts me but his sister knows without having to ask. I staunch the deep well of hurt I've learned to bury.\n\nShe pushes back her shoulders and emits a heavy sigh. \"I came to ask you if you knew what is going on with Mitch. His coach called last week to inform me that his grades are slipping and he's been missing practice. If this continues, he's going to have to drop him from the team. He wanted me to talk to him. I've tried but I can't get anything out of him.\" Again, her eyes go to my stomach. \"Since this started after you guys broke up, I thought I could get some information from you. I thought maybe you could talk to him... But now I see what's going on with him.\"\n\nThe baby kicks just then. My hand instinctively goes to the place on my stomach.\n\nAlarm flares in Diane's eyes and I smile wanly. \"It's okay. She's just practicing for the soccer game later tonight.\"\n\n\"She? It's a girl?\" she asks and it's almost painful to witness the yearning in her eyes.\n\nI nod and continue to rub the spot where my baby is exercising her kicking leg. For a second, Diane looks dazed. It appears to take a bit of effort for her to wrench her gaze from my baby bump and back up to my face.\n\n\"I-I-I don't know what to say.\"\n\n\"It's okay. You don't have to say anything,\" I assure her. I don't expect her to congratulate me or pretend to be happy. This is her baby brother a year out of high school having a baby. I get that.\n\n\"I don't understand. Why isn't Mitch here? Why aren't you two together anymore?\"\n\nGood question.\n\nBut what do I tell her? I mean I like Diane a lot but we're not that close. I decide to keep it simple and be as honest as the circumstances warrant. \"Mitch blames me for this.\" I cradle my stomach protectively with both hands. \"He thinks I got pregnant on purpose.\"\n\nI wait for Diane to ask the obvious question.\n\n\"He's going to be a father. He doesn't have a choice,\" she says instead, her tone obstinate and firm.\n\n\"No. No,\" I state adamantly. \"I don't want him here if he doesn't want to be here. And he's made it obvious that he doesn't want to be a father to this baby. Honestly, I'll be fine. My mom is going to help me so I'll be fine.\"\n\nA look of hurt crosses Diane's face. \"This baby is m-my niece. She has cousins and an uncle who are going to want to be a part of her life even if Mitch doesn't.\"\n\nI'm immediately hit by a pang of remorse at how thoughtless I must have sounded. \"Diane, I didn't mean that I don't want you—\"\n\n\"Paige, I will be here for you,\" she says, and gently brushes my hair over my right shoulder. \"I want to be part of my niece's life. And I want to do whatever I can to help you. Babies aren't cheap and at the very least, you're going to need some financial assistance.\"\n\nMy first instinct is to turn her down. My baby isn't her problem. But then I think of my mom and how much having this baby is going to change her life. She shouldn't have to bear the brunt of her daughter's unplanned pregnancy alone.\n\nIt's not as if this is Randy—who's already offered to help out financially—this is the father's family. And I didn't make this baby by myself.\n\n\"Thank you,\" I whisper, grateful for the offer.\n\nDropping her hand to her side, Diane smiles. We stand there awkwardly for another few moments.\n\n\"Well, I don't want to keep you.\" She moves her purse to her other shoulder.\n\nI nod and give her a small smile and hope it somehow conveys the depth of my appreciation. I follow her back to the door. Before she leaves and I chicken out, I ask, \"Are you going to tell Mitch you saw me? That you know?\"\n\nOf course she is. How could she not? But something in me can't help but ask it anyway.\n\n\"He's my brother, Paige,\" Diane says softly, almost sadly.\n\n\"Right,\" I respond with a hard nod.\n\nShe pauses. \"When is the baby due?\"\n\n\"December sixteenth.\"\n\nHer eyebrows go up and a genuine smile appears on her face. \"A Christmas baby.\"\n\nI give a little laugh. \"Yep.\"\n\n\"Okay then, I'll be in touch.\"\n\nWe share a look, another smile and then she's gone. After she pulls out of the driveway, I return her wave and close the door. I internally brace myself for what's coming next.\n\nAnd do you know what came next? What happened when Mitch's sister confronted him about the baby?\n\nNothing.\n\nAbsolutely nothing.\n\n# Chapter Nine\n\nMitch\n\nIf things keep going the way they've been, you're going to find yourself on academic probation.\n\nI walk out of the meeting with that warning echoing in my head as I head to the locker room. I'm failing three of my five classes this semester and managing barely passing grades in the other two. But then that's bound to happen when you hardly ever go to class.\n\nLast year, the prospect of flunking out of school was inconceivable. This year, it doesn't bother me nearly as much as it should. Getting kicked off the football team, however, does. It's literally the only thing I care about right now. If I lose football, I may as well drop out of college. What would be the point in staying?\n\nAnd then where would I go? Home? These days my sister and I aren't exactly seeing eye-to-eye.\n\nDiane saw Paige at the beginning of September, which is when I got \"the call\". She totally laid into me. She chided, cajoled, and then when that didn't work, she finally exploded, berating me for over an hour. I'd been expecting \"the speech\" for a couple months so I was fully prepared for the guilt trip she was going to try to lay at my door.\n\nI told her to stay out of it, which only proved to infuriate her more. When she demanded to know what happened between Paige and me and I responded, \"Goodbye, Diane. I'm hanging up now,\" she stopped talking to me. That lasted three weeks.\n\nWhen she started calling me again, it was either to try to guilt me into coming home and \"owning up to my responsibilities\" or to tell me how disappointed she was in me. She asked me what happened to me, no doubt convinced that an alien had taken over my body.\n\nI've fielded about a dozen calls from her since. She's learned that the second she brings up Paige or the baby, I'm gone.\n\nNow when she calls, she asks about school and I lie and tell her everything is going fine. I can only imagine what she'd do if I told her my 3.5 GPA had fallen a whole grade point in the span of one semester. Yeah, that would go over well.\n\nI ask about Tess and Doug and get off the phone soon after that. The key to avoiding an argument is to keep the conversation short because if I let it go on too long it will invariably end up on Paige and talking about Paige is a deal breaker. A conversation ender. I'm not going there. And Diane knows it. But that doesn't stop her. Nope, my sister is a bulldog when it comes to my ex and the baby.\n\nIt's ten days before Paige's due date and I haven't heard from my sister in almost a month. A coincidence? Maybe. Who knows.\n\nI shake my head, annoyed that I can't get the looming date out of my head.\n\nWhen I turn the corner, I'm surprised to see Zach Pearson, our starting quarterback, standing outside the locker room. He's wearing a heavy leather football jacket, black jeans, and has his backpack slung over his shoulder. He's dressed and ready to go so what's he still doing here? Coach Brighton kept me in his office for forty-five minutes after practice. I was positive all the guys would be gone by now.\n\n\"What are you still doing here?\" I ask as I approach.\n\n\"Waiting for you,\" he replies, his expression open, friendly. Pearson's a good guy. We've been hanging out together a lot more since my roommate, Steve, started dating his girlfriend's best friend four months ago. Before that, we mostly hung out when the team was on the road. I like him but we're not tight, if you know what I mean.\n\nI halt in front of him. \"For what?\"\n\nWith a jerk of his head toward the door, he says, \"I'll tell you when you're done.\"\n\n\"What, you're going to wait while I shower?\" I ask with a lift of an eyebrow. What, did the coach tell him about my plummeting grades?\n\nPearson laughs. \"Just don't take an hour. I'm seeing Olivia tonight.\"\n\nFrom what I hear, he sees Olivia almost every night, so nothing new there.\n\nShrugging, I shoulder my way into the locker room.\n\nFifteen minutes later, hair still damp from being towel dried, I exit the locker room to find Pearson leaned up against the wall, his cell pressed to his ear. The second he spots me, he says, \"Listen, Liv, I gotta run. I'll see you in a few.\" He laughs softly at something she says, and replies, \"I'm going to hold you to that.\"\n\nHere's the other thing I know about our fearless quarterback, he's totally gone over his girlfriend, just like I used to be over Paige.\n\nPaige.\n\nFuck. I wish my mind had a steel trapdoor that worked.\n\n\"So you gonna tell me what's this all about? Coach say something to you?\" I ask as he crosses the hall toward me.\n\nShoving his cell in his coat pocket, Pearson matches my strides as we walk shoulder-to-shoulder toward the exit.\n\n\"Olivia tells me you're not going home during the break,\" he says, angling his head toward me.\n\nOlivia is in my poly-sci class this semester. I got to know her through Pearson and when we were shooting the breeze in class last week, I let it slip that I wasn't going home for Christmas.\n\n\"Yeah, it's not a big deal.\"\n\n\"April says your roommate is going on some kind of family-reunion cruise,\" Pearson says, continuing to dig.\n\nI glance over at him as we walk down the short hallway that leads to the parking lot. \"Yeah.\" I have a feeling I know where the conversation is going.\n\n\"Why don't you come home with me? My mom's complaining she won't have enough people to bake and cook for now that my brother's bailed on us.\"\n\nI smile faintly to myself. More reflex than anything else. \"Nah, man. That's alright.\"\n\nChrist, does my life ever suck. I'm officially an object of pity.\n\nPearson pushes open the door and a shock of cold air hits my face. I hunch my shoulder against the wind and follow him out into the winter night. There's a couple of inches of packed snow on the ground but at least it's not snowing and the roads are clear. At six, it's already dark, but the parking lot is well-lit and practically vacant, save mine and a few other cars, and Pearson's truck.\n\n\"You're coming home with me.\"\n\nI shake my head. \"I'm good right here.\"\n\nMy cell rings before Pearson can press the issue. Shoving my hand into my coat pocket, I shoot a quick glance at the screen and my heart roars to a stop.\n\nDiane.\n\nI halt in my tracks and hold up my finger to Pearson, to give me a minute. He nods and continues walking. I turn my back to him.\n\nThe second I press the phone to my ear, I hear my sister's breathless, \"Paige is having the baby.\" There's a pause and my heart is now literally in my throat, constricting my speech. \"I thought you might want to know.\"\n\nI still don't say anything.\n\nI can't. Physically can't. It will probably take me an hour to catch my breath.\n\nI think she's going to say more but with just those words, my sister ends the call and I'm left standing there. Alone. In the cold.\n\nA part of me, the weak part, wants to call her back. It wants to book a flight home this very second. But the other part of me knows that if I start down this road, there will be no coming back. I'll lose everything. More than I've already lost.\n\nMy parents were here one day and gone by the time I woke up the next morning. Some idiot too stupid and thoughtless to know he was too drunk to get behind the wheel of a car took their lives and irrevocably changed mine.\n\nAfter they died, I had to go and live with my sister. Not that either of us would have had it any other way, but death has a way of eliminating options. Apparently bringing a life into the world has a way of doing that too. Playing football and going to Warwick were the choices I made.\n\nPaige deliberately took that away from me.\n\nSo before I weaken and do something I'll regret later, I turn and call out to Pearson, who is taking his time getting into his truck, his gaze on me.\n\nI jog slowly toward him, my heart thundering in my throat, until I'm standing beside his truck. \"When do we leave?\" I ask.\n\nPearson smiles, looking pleased. \"We're heading out Friday.\"\n\n\"Cool.\" I pause. \"And hey, thanks.\"\n\n\"Don't thank me. You're doing me a favor.\"\n\nNo, he's doing me the favor because I know if I stay, I'll end up caving and going home—and I'll probably never come back.\n\n* * *\n\nPaige\n\nI'm gripping Erin's hand so hard she's probably lost all feeling in it. But she doesn't complain, she's my rock and my labor coach.\n\nSix weeks of Lamaze classes didn't adequately prepare me for the magnitude of pain that is childbirth. And I thought menstrual cramps were their own form of torture. They have nothing on the crippling pain that takes over my body with each contraction.\n\nI'd vowed I wouldn't cry or screech and wail like some of the women I'd seen in movies and in childbirth videos but I can't hold back the tears and pained whimpers.\n\nIt hurts. Oh God, it hurts.\n\n\"Oh Paige, you're doing so good.\"\n\nI don't have the strength or will to lift my head the couple inches required to look into Erin's face. It's enough that she's here holding my hand—or letting me squeeze the life's blood from hers.\n\n\"It hurts,\" I moan piteously as I feel the onset of another contraction tightening like a band around my distended stomach. God, I wish I hadn't been such an idiot and waited so long to tell my mom and Erin I thought I was in labor. By the time they'd gotten me to the hospital, my water had broken and I was already dilated eight centimeters. The emergency room physician told me I was lucky I hadn't given birth in the car.\n\nFive minutes later I was in labor and delivery in the second stages of labor, any possibility of an epidural gone. Nothing I can do now but deal with the pain the best I can.\n\n\"Okay, Paige, I'm going to count to ten, then I want you to push.\" Dressed in standard green scrubs and stationed between my widespread legs at the foot of my bed, Dr. Samuel peers at me over his bifocals and gives an encouraging nod.\n\nI'm hooked up to a machine that monitors my contractions and just as another one peaks, he instructs me to push.\n\nGripping Erin's hand and the cold, steel railing of the hospital bed, I push with all my might. I rest during the intervals between the contractions, and by rest, I mean panting to catch my breath and moaning to stop myself from screaming.\n\nThirty minutes later, with my hair matted to my head and sweat rolling down the back of my neck, I give one last push and my baby is out.\n\n\"No mistake about it. It's a girl,\" Dr. Samuel announces from behind his mask. I can hear the smile in his voice.\n\nAn excited Erin is allowed to cut the cord before my doctor holds my baby up for me to see. Streaks of blood and mucus cover her and her head is decidedly elongated but she's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.\n\nBrianna is the name I decided on if the ultrasound was right and it was a girl.\n\nMy breath catches in my throat when she starts to cry. Tears of relief and joy begin to fall in earnest now that I know she's all right.\n\nDr. Samuel is still working on me—delivery not quite over—when the nurse whisks my baby away to get her cleaned up, weighed and foot-printed.\n\nFirst I want to hold her and then I'll need the day's worth of sleep my body's demanding. Having a baby is exhausting work.\n\n\"Paige, she's beautiful.\"\n\nMy head flops wearily to my right as Erin's voice draws my attention back to her.\n\nShe looks fresh-faced and pretty in her scrubs, her long hair in a neat ponytail. She makes me feel dumpy and in sore need of a shower. It's a good thing I love her to death.\n\n\"Thank you,\" I say through parched lips.\n\n\"No, thank you for letting me share this with you, I'm well aware how fierce the competition was for this job.\" Despite her teasing words, her voice is thick with emotion.\n\n\"Trent never stood a chance against you.\" I'd been flattered he'd volunteered but our friendship had its limits, which in this case ended at the delivery room door.\n\nErin and I share a moment, a tender smile that cements our friendship for life. She stays with me while the doctor takes care of the afterbirth and stitches me up—yes, an episiotomy was required. By the time he's finished, the nurse returns with my swaddled baby girl, and places her in my waiting arms.\n\nShe is beautiful. Even more so now that she's all cleaned up. I stare at her in awe, unable to believe she came out of me. I gingerly touch the dark tuff of hair on her head. It's silky and soft. Her eyes are closed so I don't know the color of her eyes. I think she kind of looks like me when I was born. That's definitely my hair.\n\nI didn't think I could possibly love her more than I did when I was carrying her but holding her now, drinking in the sight of her, that love expands exponentially. It's elastic. It's infinite.\n\nFifteen minutes later, as the nurse is helping me out of the wheelchair and into my bed, my mom and Diane burst into the room. And I do mean burst. Self-preservation has Erin immediately surrendering Brianna to her grandmother's outstretched arms. Diane is forced to bide her time to get her hands on her niece.\n\nWrenching her gaze from her granddaughter, my mom beams at me. \"How's my baby?\"\n\nShe means me.\n\n\"Sleepy. Happy. Thankful. In love,\" I reply quietly.\n\n\"Of course you are,\" she replies, her smile brimming with pride and love as she looks at me. \"Oh, Rita and Trent are on their way. They should be here in a few minutes,\" she says, returning her attention to her granddaughter.\n\nRita is Trent's mom and they'd been waiting all week for the call. I can't wait for them to meet my daughter.\n\nOh my God, I have a daughter.\n\nMitch and I have a daughter.\n\nA ball of emotion forms in my throat making it hard to swallow. Tears sting the backs of my eyes and I blink rapidly to keep them at bay. I'm allowed tears of happiness not sorrow and right now both are battling for supremacy.\n\nWhen I'm able to focus my gaze, Diane is staring directly at me. It's as if she knows I'm thinking about Mitch and knows what I want but am afraid to ask her.\n\nShe comes to my side, concern marring the joy and happiness on her face.\n\n\"She's beautiful.\" There's a tinge of sorrow in her voice.\n\n\"She is,\" I agree, my voice choked.\n\n\"You're going to be a wonderful mother,\" she says, repeating what she's been telling me for months.\n\n\"I hope so.\" I try to smile and tamp down the urge to ask her about Mitch.\n\nDoes he know? Is he coming? Until today, I didn't realize how much I secretly nursed that hope.\n\nHowever, I must be as transparent as glass because her green eyes are all sympathy and regret when she whispers to me in a hushed tone, \"I called and I told him you were having the baby.\"\n\nMy breath falters and my heart slams against my ribcage. After a handful of seconds, I force myself to breathe as pain, excruciating in its intensity, ravages my insides.\n\nI hate myself for asking, but I know she won't give me the answer unless I do. \"What did he say?\"\n\nTears glass her eyes. Tears of pity.\n\nSlowly she shakes her head, her wavy hair a soft whisper on her cream blouse.\n\nIf I cry now, I will turn what should be one of the happiest moments in my life into something sad and sorrowful.\n\nI glance around the room and take in the women in my life, the women who mean the most to me. And then I look at the love of my life, my daughter, and I know I need to be strong for her. I need to be strong for me.\n\nI heave a breath, and grasp Diane's hand with mine. \"That's okay. I'll be fine. Brianna and I will be fine.\"\n\nDiane draws a shuddering breath as she leans down and hugs me, mindful of the intravenous tube still in my right arm. \"Of course you will, honey. And I will always be here for you. Whatever you need. Please don't ever forget that.\"\n\n\"I won't.\"\n\nAfter a prolonged hug, which is discreetly being observed by my mom and best friend, Diane releases me and declares, \"It seems I'm going to have to wrestle my niece from your mother.\"\n\nHer announcement draws the expected laughs. My mother then reluctantly relinquishes her granddaughter to Diane and makes a beeline to my side.\n\n\"You okay, sweetie?\" she asks, gently cupping my cheek.\n\nAll I can do is nod, my words choked by threatening tears.\n\n\"I'm here for you, sweetie. I'm here for you.\"\n\nBrianna's cries save me from breaking down into ugly sobs.\n\n\"I know honey,\" Diane says, lovingly addressing her niece as she rounds the bed and brings her to me. \"You want your mama.\"\n\nAfter I have my daughter back in my arms and feel her tiny body against mine, I'm again overwhelmed by a love so profound, I give up the fight and allow the tears to fall. It is what it is, a mixture of joy and pain.\n\nBrianna is it. She means everything to me. And the two of us, we are going to make it together. Without Mitch.\n\nAs I gaze down at my beautiful baby girl, her tiny little hand holding both my finger and my heart in hers, I know that no matter how much it hurts, I have to leave the past behind.\n\nMitch is my past.\n\nBrianna is my future.\n\nTHE END\n\n Thank you for reading THE TRAP\n\nI hope you enjoyed the beginning of Paige and Mitch's romance.\n\nI hope you'll consider leaving a review.\n\nTo receive news on upcoming releases\n\nclick here to sign up for Beverley Kendall's Newsletter\n\n***\n\n**  \n**\n\n**New Adult Romances**\n\n_Trapped_ series\n\n**  \n**\n\nPrequel - **THE TRAP** (Paige & Mitch)\n\n**  \n**\n\nBook #1 - **TRAPPED** (Paige & Mitch's HEA)\n\n**  \n**\n\nBook #1 - **TRAPPED Expanded Edition** (Includes **The Trap** )\n\nBonus Short -  **TRAPPED At Christmas** (Paige & Mitch)\n\nBook #2 -  **PLAYED** (Erin & Josh)\n\nTBA\n\n**  \n**\n\n**  \n**\n\n**Connecting series**\n\n_Unforgettable You_\n\nBook #1 -  ONLY FOR YOU (Olivia & Zach)\n\nBook #2 -  ALL OVER YOU (Rebecca & Scott)\n\nBook #3 -  ALWAYS BEEN YOU (April & Troy)\n\n**  \n**\n\nBook #4 -  **FOREVER WITH YOU** (Emily & Graham)\n\nTBA\n\n* * *\n\n**Historical Romances**\n\n**  \n**\n\nThe Elusive Lords series in chronological order\n\nSINFUL SURRENDER (James & Missy)\n\nA TASTE OF DESIRE (Thomas & Amelia)\n\nALL'S FAIR IN LOVE & SEDUCTION (enovella)\n\n(Derek & Elizabeth)\n\nAN HEIR OF DECEPTION (Alex & Charlotte)\n\nConnecting series\n\nThe Temptresses in chronological order\n\nTWICE THE TEMPTATION (Lucas & Catherine)\n\n* * *\n\nOn the following pages, please enjoy an excerpt of TRAPPED\n\n# TRAPPED\n\nMy life has turned out to be such a cliché. And not in a good way.\n\nIt's not exactly Sixteen and Pregnant, but at eighteen my only advantage is a high school diploma. And if that's not enough, the father—and I use that term loosely—couldn't have hightailed it out of my life fast enough.\n\nI thought I really knew him. Unfortunately, my boyfriend of three years transformed from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde once he realized his carefree, childless days would be coming to an end.\n\nI'm over him now though. The real love of my life is chubby, has more gum than teeth, and stands a little over two feet tall. She may not have been planned but I've never regretted having her. She's the center of my world. A world that's turned upside when Mitch returns ready to earn the love and trust of the child he'd abandoned before birth.\n\nLetting him into my daughter's life is one thing but letting him back into mine isn't going to happen. Ever.\n\nNow if only I can get my heart to heed the lessons of the past.\n\n# Chapter One\n\nMitch\n\nWho the hell is knocking on my door?\n\nI angle my head to check the time on the cable box. It's 10:50 p.m, too late for visitors and too early for Steve to be back from his date with April.\n\nShannon doesn't stop kissing me so I can only assume that either she didn't hear the knock or is ignoring the interruption and wants me to do the same.\n\nI try to get back into the kiss but give up when whoever's on the other side of the door refuses to go away, the knocks sharper, harder, more impatient sounding.\n\nFuck.\n\nI gently push Shannon away and off my lap. \"I got to get that,\" I mumble, two beers away from being officially drunk, a condition I'm probably a little too familiar with for my own good. I'm a responsible drunk though. I never drink and drive.\n\n\"Who is it?\" she asks, her blue eyes dulled by her own alcohol consumption.\n\n\"I don't know,\" I grunt and push to my feet.\n\nI leave her on the couch pouting. This is the second time we've hung out. No sex yet. Thought I'd seal the deal tonight.\n\nAnother knock has me impatiently yanking open the door.\n\nOh, for fuck's sake!\n\nI catch a glimpse of my sister just before she shoves past me and into the apartment.\n\nAnd here I'd half convinced myself that Steve must have lost his keys.\n\n\"Diane, what the hell?\" I absently push the door shut before turning to face her. But she's still on the move, marching purposefully toward the living room.\n\nWhat is she doing here?\n\nDid something happen to Paige or the baby?\n\nNo, Diane's too pissed for that, I quickly conclude, my momentary panic subsiding.\n\nShe screeches to a halt when she sees Shannon and takes in the state of her undress. I thank God we'd just started fooling around and that my date's still in her bra and jeans.\n\nWhipping around, Diane glares at me. \"Is she the reason you're not coming home this time?\" she demands, gesturing toward Shannon.\n\nSlow to react, Shannon frantically begins to button her blouse. \"Mitch, who is she?\"\n\n\"I am his sister,\" Diane replies tersely, turning her glare back on Shannon.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" I ask pointedly.\n\nDiane's head jerks in my direction, her gaze narrowing until her eyes are slitted.\n\n\"You haven't been home in over a year and you're asking me what I'm doing here?\" She pauses and does that thing with her hands—palms down, fingers splayed at her sides—when she's trying to control her emotions. After exhaling a deep breath, she says calmly, \"Look, you may want to ask your date to leave because I'm pretty sure you're not going to want her to hear what I have to say.\"\n\nMy sister should know better than to throw out a challenge like that, especially when I've been drinking. \"No, say whatever you have to say so I can get on with my date.\"\n\nDiane's expression darkens ominously. \"Fine,\" she snaps. \"Grow up, Mitch and come home. I don't care how you feel about Paige anymore, but you have a daughter who needs her father.\"\n\nShannon lets out a gasp. \"You have a kid?\" she squeaks.\n\nBowing my head, I close my eyes and squeeze the bridge of my nose between my fingers.\n\nHell, what did I expect? The date is officially over. It's time to call it a night.\n\nIt doesn't take me long to see Shannon home. Her building is within walking distance of mine. Of course she presses me about my kid. My answer is short and doesn't encourage further conversation. Yeah, I have a baby, a daughter.\n\nThe truth is, I don't know much more than that. I figured the less I know, the easier it would be to deal with everything. Guess what? Not by a long shot. Not even alcohol can make me forget.\n\nBy the time I get back to my apartment, my sister seems to have lost some of her anger. I wish she hadn't. It's easier to hold on to mine when I'm faced with hers.\n\n\"Sit,\" she orders when I walk into the living room. I hate that she looks sad, that she looks like she's been crying. Or maybe she's just tired.\n\nWithout arguing, I take a seat a couple of feet from her on the couch. She immediately angles her body toward me.\n\nFor several long beats, she simply stares at me, her expression pained. Right now sobriety is a ruthless monster I don't want to face but I don't have a choice anymore. My buzz is long gone and the life I've tried to ignore the past year, descends down on me like a sledgehammer.\n\n\"Mitch, I love you.\"\n\nFuck fuck fuck. I swallow hard. This is the last thing I want to hear. I don't want her to be kind. I don't want her to love me. Not when most days I can barely stand being in my own skin.\n\n\"Diane, don't,\" I say in a voice that's not my own.\n\nShe scoots closer to me, grabbing my hand in hers. \"No listen to me. I love you too much to watch you self-destruct. Right now you're throwing your life away with both hands and I can't stand by and watch you do that.\" Reaching out with her free hand, she brushes my hair from my forehead like she used to do when I was a kid. \"Please come home—at least for the summer. I know you don't want to admit it but you need your family and we need you. Brianna needs you.\"\n\nThere's no way to describe how I feel at that moment. It's not a hurt. It's not an ache. It cuts deeper than that. And buried beneath all of it is a longing I've refused to acknowledge for over a year. For the past seven months.\n\nI have a daughter. A daughter I've never seen, never touched and never held. When the reality of that sinks in, it hits and it hits hard.\n\nI clear my throat. \"Di—\"\n\n\"Don't give me an answer now. Just think about it. Plus,\" she coaxes lightly after a pause, \"the kids miss their uncle Mitch.\"\n\nNothing like a whole lotta guilt and a bit of emotional blackmail to make me feel like shit. Not that I don't deserve it.\n\n\"I miss them too.\" No lie. As much as they can sometimes drive me crazy, I never knew until this past year how empty my life would feel without them.\n\nShit, I miss all of them, even my brother-in-law Dan.\n\nJust don't ask me about Paige. I don't want to think about her. She's the reason for all this...crap. The reason for the train wreck that is my life.\n\nDuring the silence that falls, Diane puts her arms around me and pulls me close. After a moment's hesitation, I return her embrace. Any anger I felt toward her is long gone. She's the one constant in my life. The one person I can always count on.\n\nBefore releasing me, she gives me a kiss on the cheek. \"You need a shave,\" she says, affectionately running her hand over my bristled jaw.\n\n\"Yes, Mom,\" I reply, all mock solemnity.\n\n\"Think about what I said,\" she instructs softly.\n\nAll I can do is nod.\n\nShe smiles. \"Good.\"\n\nI follow her when she rises to her feet.\n\n\"Let me get out of your hair. I've got to catch an early flight home tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Where are you staying?\" I'd offer to sleep on the couch and have her take my room but my sister would never accept. It has something to do with sleeping in an apartment inhabited by college guys.\n\n\"I booked a room for the night at a hotel near the airport.\"\n\nAs I thought. \"I'll walk you to your car.\"\n\n\"No, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl. You, on the other hand, look like you could use some shuteye.\"\n\n\"In other words, I look like crap.\"\n\nDiane laughs. \"You could never look like crap. I was actually thinking it looks like you've put on a bit more muscle.\" Reaching out, she squeezes my biceps. \"Been working out?\"\n\nEmbarrassed, I shrug off her hand. I'm sure as hell not going to tell her it's usually how I pass the time I should be in class. The same classes I'm mostly failing.\n\n\"I'm walking you to your car.\" I say it in a way she knows it's useless to argue with me.\n\nResigned, she sighs and retrieves her leather purse from the couch. The thing is white like her jeans and sandals, and big enough to be considered luggage.\n\nBy the time we get to the gray Mazda she rented, conversation has grounded to a halt. I keep expecting her to tell me about my daughter—Brianna—but beyond some oblique references to me being needed, she doesn't say anything about her. And I'm too much a chickenshit to ask. I want to know and I don't. Guess which one wins out?\n\nAt the driver-side door, she reaches up and presses another kiss on my cheek. \"I'll call when I get home,\" she whispers. \"And here—\" she reaches into her purse and pulls out a manila envelope \"—this is for you. There's also something in there from Paige.\"\n\nAfter shoving the envelope into my hand, she quickly gets into the car. I then watch in dazed silence as she reverses, beeps the horn, gives me a short wave, and exits the parking lot.\n\nI study the envelope the entire trek back up to my apartment. The thing weighs almost nothing so it's got to be some kind of letter or document.\n\nA letter from Paige? I start sweating just thinking about what she'd have to say and how it would make me feel. I open the damn thing the second I'm inside my apartment.\n\nThe first thing I see is one of those glossy photos that are almost the same size as the envelope itself. I know who's in the picture before I actually take it out.\n\nWhen I look at the face staring back at me, I literally feel as if my breath has been knocked out of me. A linebacker hit that caught me blind.\n\nDark-brown hair, two front teeth in an otherwise gummy smile, and eyes so green, they look like colored contacts. She has my eyes but the rest of her is all Paige.\n\nMy daughter. So damn beautiful it hurts.\n\nI don't remember heading to the kitchen but that's where I find myself a minute or so later. Clutching the photo between my fingers, I place the envelope on the table and lower myself onto the closest chair. There's a heaviness in my chest that makes it hard to breathe.\n\nI'm not sure how long I sit there staring at her, memorizing every inch of her beautiful little face. But it must have been long enough.\n\n\"Earth to Kingston.\"\n\nMy roommate's voice finally penetrates, bringing me out of my stupor. My head snaps up to see him standing at the opening of the kitchen. If he'd been a murderer, I'd be a dead man. I hadn't even heard him come in.\n\n\"You deaf? I called you a couple times.\" His date must have gone well because he's wearing one of those shit-eating grins. \"What're you looking at?\" he asks, as he approaches.\n\nMy gaze goes back to my daughter. When I don't immediately respond, he rounds the table until he's peering at the picture over my shoulder.\n\n\"Cute kid. Whose is she, your sister's?\"\n\nI shoot a glance back at him before replying, \"No, she's mine.\"\n\nSteve makes this strangled sound in his throat, his expression going from shocked to disbelieving. Then he emits a serrated laugh. \"Yeah right. Shit, you almost had me. Quit fucking with me.\"\n\nIt's quiet for a couple beats.\n\n\"Holy shit. You've got a kid?\"\n\nWhat he really means is, You've got a kid and didn't tell me?\n\n\"I can't fucking believe it.\"\n\nIt's late, I'm emotionally drained and I'm not in the mood for an interrogation. I grab the manila envelope from off the table and come to my feet. I'm surprised when a regular-sized, white envelope falls out of it and onto the floor. It's only then I remember what Diane said. There's also something in there from Paige.\n\nThe photo is obviously from my sister so this letter must be from Paige. I scoop it off the floor, place the picture of Brianna down, and remove two sheets of paper from the envelope.\n\nOnce I unfold them, I realize it's not a letter. It's a document. I have to read the heading at the top of the form three times before I can make sense of what it says. What it means. And that's when everything inside me goes numb.\n\n\"Holy shit,\" Steve, who's hovering behind me, exclaims softly, obviously reading it over my shoulder. \"Is that from your ex?\"\n\nI don't answer. I think it's pretty self-explanatory.\n\nBut apparently it's not, because he goes on to ask, \"Is that a form to give up your parental rights?\"\n\nYeah, that's exactly what it is.\n\n**BUY**   **TRAPPED or TRAPPED Expanded Edition**\n\nClick here to receive news of all Beverley Kendall's future releases!\n\n**Beverley loves interacting with readers.  **\n\n**  \n**\n\nYou can visit her at website: http://beverleykendall.com\n\nFollow her on Twitter\n\nConnect with her on Facebook\n\nAnd communicate with her via email at beverley@beverleykendall.com\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n### Poems and Stories\n\nBy David Mowrey\n\nCopyright 2011 David Mowrey\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nTable Of Contents\n\n1. Voices That Bless\n\n2. Life Is Beautiful\n\n3. Hidden Within the Darkness\n\n4. Walking Hand in Hand\n\n5. Timeless Beauty\n\n6. The River Home\n\n7. Angels of the Light\n\n8. Freedom's Light\n\n9. Flowers Under the Sun\n\n10.The Old Man in the Clouds\n\n# Voices That Bless\n\nWinds blow softly through the trees, their\n\nvoices embrace me.\n\nGentle breezes caress the leaves, and the\n\nvoices brush against my very being.\n\nAs leaves sway with the wind, their\n\nvoices touch my heart and soul.\n\nWinds blow softly, and the\n\nvoices of angels bless me.\n\n# Life is Beautiful\n\nBeneath a comforting\n\ncloud, Safe from the burning\n\nsun.\n\nAdrift like a rose petal floating in the\n\nsky, Searching downward upon my distant\n\nself.\n\nFinding that even within darkened\n\nshadows, Life is still and ever\n\nbeautiful.\n\n# Hidden Within the Darkness\n\nI wander through a void of darkness,\n\nsearching for the Light.\n\nI ask myself why.\n\nI stumble about feeling lost,\n\nthinking I must understand\n\nStill I ask why.\n\nIn brief moments of calm,\n\nI see flashes of clarity that call to me.\n\nThey speak softly soothing my questions of why.\n\nAs the darkness surrounds me,\n\nI search for the Light.\n\nAsking why.\n\nI wander and search,\n\nknowing where the answer can be found.\n\nComfort lies within the Light that tells me why.\n\n# Walking Hand in Hand\n\nWe walk hand in hand\n\nthrough life.\n\nMy spirit lifted,\n\nheld aloft by her love.\n\nIn the cool winter air\n\nher voice sings like satin\n\nbrushing softly upon my ears.\n\nHer skin feeling as warm visions against the blue sky,\n\nbeautiful and gentle\n\nto my touch.\n\nOn crisp spring mornings\n\nI see her face glowing\n\nlike flowers blooming\n\nunder a rising sun.\n\nWhen she walks her footsteps dance\n\nlike meadows of tall grass under an early breeze\n\ninto my heart.\n\nOn warm summer days\n\nher auburn hair flows\n\nas ocean waves caress the shore.\n\nWatching her eyes\n\nI see the heavens\n\nin the warm stars\n\nsurrounding my very being.\n\nIn autumn as leaves fall\n\nshe embraces me\n\nlike an angel from above.\n\nAs the years pass\n\nI feel comfort.\n\nand I am\n\nheld aloft by her love.\n\n# Timeless Beauty\n\nWalking on the horizon\n\nof my mind. I\n\nsee her distantly\n\nlike a star that ever shines.\n\nShe dances with\n\nevery step. Her\n\nbare feet caress the\n\ndew covered grass.\n\nHer body slides and turns\n\nlike a ballet. Her\n\nhands raise to\n\nembrace the clouds.\n\nMy mind reaches out\n\nto touch her. I\n\nfeel the warmth and\n\nsoothing of her skin.\n\nMy soul is at peace by\n\nher grace. My\n\neyes ever see her\n\ntimeless beauty.\n\n## The River Home\n\nONE\n\nHeart pounding,\n\nBreath coming in heavy gasps,\n\nEvery muscle tense.\n\nLeaning forward in anticipation,\n\nHe waited for the command.\n\nHe felt detached from all that was around him. Afraid but excited, he was acutely aware of all the activity up and down the line. Men shifting their weight to ease the cramps they developed from the long march and now the seemingly unending delay of the attack. An occasional dry cough, leaves being stepped on and sporadic whispers intruded upon the silence.\n\nWithout conscious effort, he checked and rechecked his musket. Frequently he eyed the powder to ensure that it was dry. Using his shirt, he would wipe the sweat from his hands and gripped his weapon with tightened fists. No longer fearing if he would fight bravely, he crouched and watched the enemy line in the distance.\n\nSuddenly he could hear the roll of thunder. Looking to the right, he saw his commanding general riding high atop a giant black horse. The sun reflected off the general's saber he held above his head as the horse raced down the line behind the soldiers. The galloping hooves pounded the ground as the general shouted the command. His harsh voice, bellowing and spewing forth, could be heard, \"Chaaaaarge! Charge you bastaaaaards!\"\n\nLike a tremendous explosion, the mass of men burst forward as one. And he, no longer feeling apart from them, was running side-by-side with his fellow soldiers. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were drawn tight as he advanced toward the enemy line. The strength of the soldier's voices pounded through him.\n\n\"Kill 'em!\"\n\n\"Rip their gray hearts out!\"\n\n\"Shoot the sons-of-bitches!\"\n\n\"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!\"\n\nThough aware of their screams and curses, he could not hear his own. For they were lost in with all the rest. And he continued forward to the enemy. His eardrums vibrated from the cannon balls firing over their heads. Smoke surged upward. With the whine of the minnie balls shooting past, he saw the grey line fifty yards ahead. And he charged forth.\n\nWith a massive force, he was flipped backward as a musket found its target in his chest. As if in slow motion, his body was tossed up and over as he fell to the ground. No longer the fierce soldier, he cried out in pain. The agony tearing through to his very soul. He lay on the damp, cold grass as the other soldiers raced on to their own destiny and his blood spilt to the ground.\n\nAnd as he lay dying, he remembered back to a simpler time.\n\n## TWO\n\nSleeping soundly, the small boy rolled over and slowly slid out of the bed. He hit the floor with a soft thud. Confused, he sat up and looked around. Unsure of what to do, he sat there and gently cried for his mother. Rubbing the tears from his eyes with tiny fists, he saw his mother pull the curtain back to enter his sleeping area of the cabin. He reached upward to her as she picked him up and held him.\n\n\"Oh Samuel. It's okay. Mama will make it better.\" His mother stood and rocked him in her arms.\n\n\"Mama, I fell out of bed,\" he whimpered.\n\n\"I know darling. Mama knows.\" She rubbed his back. \"Do you want to go down to the river with Mama. We'll sit and listen to the water.\"\n\n\"Yes Mama. Let's go to the river.\" Samuel quit crying as his mother held him.\n\nSamuel's mother quietly carried him to the door of their two-room cabin and set him down on the floor. \"Sit there so Mama can undo the bolt. We have to be quiet so we don't wake your Pa.\"\n\nWatching his mother lift up the heavy bolt of the door, he sat patiently on the floor. Samuel could hear his father snoring as he felt the cool night air rush into the cabin from the doorway. His mother picked him up and they went out into the warm night.\n\nHe pointed to the stars and said, \"Mama, see the lights?\"\n\n\"Oh yes! Aren't they pretty.\"? She made her way down the short dirt path to the river, which she had walked many times over the past few years. The river, the Kankakee, which fed into the Illinois River, had been the final leg of their long journey from the east coast. Here they had made their home for five years as farmers. It was the only home that Samuel knew.\n\nThey got to the riverbank and sat down on the soft grass. Samuel loved the sound of the river, and with the puzzlement of a small child wondered where it came from. His mother lifted him to her lap and rocked him. As she sang a lullaby, he fell asleep and dreamed a child's dream of the river.\n\n## THREE\n\nSitting against a tree, Samuel threw pebbles into the river and watched them skip off the surface of the water. Hearing footsteps behind him he looked back and saw his mother coming down the path. He stood up and waited for her.\n\n\"Well aren't you the polite young man standing up in the presence of a lady. Even an old lady like myself.\" She smiled, and standing up on the tips of her toes to reach him, she kissed him on the cheek.\n\n\"Ah Ma. You're not old. You're just as young as you ever were.\" He returned the kiss and they both sat down to watch the river.\n\nPatting his knee, \"It's been a while since we've sat here together by the river. I bet its been eight years or so.\"\n\n\"Well, helping Pa with the chores and the school learning has kept me a might busy.\" He threw more pebbles into the river.\n\n\"I know son.\" She gave him a light hug. \"I just miss those days when you were young. When you were hurt or sick, we would come here and I would rock you and everything got better. Those were special times for me.\"\n\n\"Me too.\" He smiled at her. \"You know, when I was real young - maybe four or five - I used to think that this was the River Jordan. I remember when you read from the Bible or when we heard the traveling preacher and y'all spoke about the River Jordan, I thought this was it.\" He laughed happily. \"I thought all you had to do was come down here and a huge sailing ship would come by, you hopped on it, and it took you off to Heaven. Isn't that silly?\"\n\n\"Not for a little boy. It shows you're smart. You're thinking about things and learning.\" She reached over and brushed the hair from his eyes.\n\nHe held her hand and they sat in silence for a while.\n\n\"You're thinking awfully hard about something. Care to share?\" She had been watching him from the corner of her eye and saw the concentration on his face. Though with a mother's instinct she knew what was bothering him. He had never traveled outside their county, and everything that he knew was right here. It was difficult for anyone to leave the safety of one's home.\n\nHe grinned at her, \"It's just ...\" Looking embarrassed, he shook his head. \"Oh, I don't know how to say it.\"\n\n\"You worried about tomorrow?\" She rubbed his arm in comfort.\n\n\"Does it show that much?\"\n\n\"Not much.\" She hugged him. \"But, a mother knows these things. I've watched you all these years and I think I know you pretty good.\"\n\n\"I'm just scared I won't hold up.\" He looked to the river.\n\n\"You'll do fine. You got butterflies in your stomach right now, but tomorrow when you get on that boat you'll be excited and won't have a care in the world. You'll be ready to go off and fight.\"\n\nSmiling at her, he replied, \"I hope you're right.\"\n\n\"Well, I am. And just so you know, I got my own butterflies.\"\n\n\"Really? 'Bout what?\" He looked at her with curiosity.\n\n\"I'm thinking ahead. Thinking about when you'll be coming home.\" She leaned against him. \"I can picture in my mind the day the river brings you home.\" She wiped tears from her eyes.\n\n\"Oh Ma, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were scared 'bout it. But, everybody says it will be a short war.\" With his hand, he gently rubbed the tears from her face. \"People say the southern rebels will run at the first fight. I think they're right.\"\n\n\"I hope so.\" She smiled and stood up. \"Now, if I stay here cryin', I'll never get my work done. Besides, your pa wants to see you.\" She held out her hand to him and he got up.\n\nThey walked up the path to the cabin hand-in-hand. \"You'll find your pa in the barn.\"\n\n\"Okay Ma.\" He kissed her and turned to the barn.\n\nSamuel found his father repairing a leather harness. \"Pa, Ma said you wanted to see me.\"\n\nStanding up, he admired how big his only son had grown. \"Hey, Son, come over here.\" He led Samuel over to a storage bin and opened it. \"I got this the other day.\" He reached into the bin and lifted out a new musket. Turning to Samuel, he held it out to him. \"I wanted you to be ready.\"\n\nSamuel looked at the gun and wanted to hug his father. He had never owned a gun before and had always had to use his father's gun to hunt with. He could not have been happier. But, he did not want his father to think him still a boy and resisted the urge to hug him. Instead, he offered his hand for his father to shake. \"Thank you, Sir.\"\n\nSmiling, his father shook his hand in return. Though he realized Samuel was trying not to show his eagerness for the gun. \"Well Son, you're seventeen and going off to war. I say that makes you a man. And you need to be prepared like a man.\"\n\nSamuel felt himself warm from pride at his father's remarks. \"Thank you. But I sure hate leaving just before planting time. You'll need the help. Of course, I may not be gone long and it may be over before I get a chance to fight.\"\n\n\"Never know. You might be back before I get all the crops planted.\" He slapped his son on the back. \"Come on, I need some water.\"\n\n## FOUR\n\nCrying and unable to move from the terrible pain, he lay face down as he listened to the battle rage around him. The sounds of muskets and cannon and of other men screaming pierced his thoughts. His pain throbbed and ate at him with every vibration of the ground. The hole in his chest continued to bleed as he wished for his mother and father and he prayed for it all to end.\n\nGasping for breath, he felt a presence over him. His eyes were caked with mud and his vision was blurred, but he forced his eyes to open. And with all his might, he raised his head and looked upward. He saw a man, dressed in white and wearing a golden breastplate, standing before him. He was enormous and towered over Samuel. The sun was brilliant as it radiated from behind the man.\n\nBlinking his eyes several times to clear his vision, he saw that this man standing before him with magnificent splendor was an angel. The immensity of his power shone brightly against the blue sky, and his compassionate eyes offset his rugged face. Huge white wings spread out from behind him as he held out his arms toward Samuel.\n\nHis suffering kept him from realizing what was happening and he immediately accepted the angel's presence without thought. His voice was almost gone as he pleaded, \"It hurts so bad. Please make it stop.\"\n\nGently and soothingly, the angel spoke, \"Take my hand and come with me.\"\n\n\"It hurts.\" Coughing violently, he choked on his blood. \"It hurts.\"\n\n\"Take my hand.\" A single tear rolled down the angel's face. \"Walk with me to the river and I will take you home. You will hurt no more.\" He lowered himself down to one knee and reached for Samuel.\n\nAs he struggled, he could see his mother within his thoughts. Sitting before the river, she held a small boy and rocked him as she brushed the hair from his eyes. The boy slept peacefully as she sang softly and looked to the water.\n\nSamuel's last effort of pain was to reach his hand up to the angel. He groaned and sobbed from the hole in his chest. His heart was racing and his breath was labored. And with a final effort of will, he took the angel's giant hand and the glory of heaven embraced him.\n\nThe hate and suffering, smoldering like ashes, faded from Samuel's thoughts.\n\nWalking side-by-side, they left the field of battle.\n\nSamuel's pain was gone as the angel took him home.\n\n## Angels of the Light\n\nONE\n\nThree angels stood silently around a small fire at the mouth of a cave. The area was completely dark and protected from the starlight by the thick forest. They had been waiting for hours, but held their patience without complaining as they listened to the night sounds of the forest.\n\nTwo of them slowly moved their wings back and forth to cool themselves from the heat. The third angel, a wingless subordinate, tried to hide his anxiety from the older two. Occasionally he would shuffle his feet and look quickly around in nervousness. He had never been in the presence of their master, the leader of the Cherubims, and tried to think of how he should act when the master arrived.\n\nThe two winged angels were cherubs - angelic soldiers charged with protecting the kingdom of Heaven. They were dressed in white tunics and both carried long swords as well as a bow with a quiver of arrows. Though they were of the Cherubim order, both took human form rather than the body of an animal. Only the most advanced cherubs took animal form, which was usually the body of a lion with a human head.\n\nWithout warning, the forest suddenly became silent. All the animals in the area stood still with fear and stared into the darkness waiting for an unknown danger to pass. Olon, the wingless angel, looked at the other two. \"What is wrong?\"\n\n\"He is coming.\" Hytu, the eldest of the three, answered him. \"When he arrives, speak only if you are addressed and do what he commands.\"\n\nA flock of birds could be heard taking flight from the threat.\n\nHytu held up his hand for them to remain quiet. They all peered into the trees as the large figure slowly walked into the clearing. He appeared only as a shadow at first. His form snaked along the ground making no sound as he stepped through the leaves and grass of the forest floor.\n\nWhen Olon first saw the master, he was immediately awed. All the stories he had heard were now confirmed. It had been said that the Cherubim leader was the most beautiful angel in the kingdom and Olon now knew that to be true.\n\nHis long, black hair hung across his shoulders and outlined his olive colored skin. His facial features were striking and perfect. Towering over the other three angels, he was six feet tall with huge wings that could span out to twenty feet across. His head, human in shape, sat atop the shoulders of a fur-covered body. He was enormous and carried himself as an all-commanding figure. He stopped a few yards from the three angels as they knelt down to one knee and bowed their heads.\n\nHytu offered a greeting, \"Prince Lucifer, I hope the night finds you well.\"\n\n\"Arise. Tell me of what you have learned,\" Lucifer replied with an authoritative tone.\n\nThey all stood and looked toward the master cherub, but none would make eye contact. Only Hytu spoke. \"Master, there are two things to tell you about. First, it is possible that you are betrayed. The inner council may know of your plans. But, I am still gathering information and hope to confirm what I have heard.\"\n\n\"It is of no consequence, but keep me informed.\" He waved an arm casually through the air. \"What else do you have to tell me?\"\n\nBefore Hytu could answer, Olon made the mistake of revealing his fears. He had thought of the possible punishment for rebellion against the kingdom and felt himself becoming afraid. Without thinking, he blurted out, \"But Master!\"\n\nLucifer quickly raised an arm and curled his fingers. A long gash appeared on Olon's face and he fell to the ground in pain. Holding his hands to his face, the blood ran out from his hands and fingers.\n\n\"You wish to speak to me?\" Lucifer's voice growled as he stepped toward the fallen angel.\n\nLooking to the ground, Olon continued to bleed. \"I am sorry Master! I meant no disrespect.\"\n\nSpeaking softer, he stood over Olon. \"Stand up.\" He patted Olon's shoulder. \"Come, get on your feet.\"\n\nOlon stood up and stepped back. He kept his eyes to the ground.\n\n\"Do not be afraid.\" Lucifer ran his finger down the gash and it quit bleeding. A long, ugly scar was left on the angel's face. \"You wish to be a warrior? You wish to be a member of the elite Cherubim Order?\"\n\n\"Yes Master,\" he replied in a whisper. He could feel the other two angels watching him.\n\nHis voice was deep, \"Then stand up. A cherub shows no fear.\" Lucifer took hold of his shoulders and made him stand upright. \"The warrior seduces pain and uses it for his own devices.\"\n\nOlon held his eyes to his master's chest and tried to hide the trembling in his voice. \"Yes Master. I will remember what you have said. Thank you for your kindness.\"\n\nLucifer turned and walked to the edge of the trees. He kept his back to the three angels. \"Hytu, tell me more.\"\n\n\"Yes Master.\" He was nervous and did not want to anger Lucifer. \"The man, Adam, now has a mate.\"\n\nSpinning around to face them, Lucifer was obviously surprised. \"When did this happen?\"\n\n\"Five days ago.\"\n\n\"How quaint.\" His eyebrows were raised in curiosity. \"The man was given a mate. What is she like?\"\n\n\"I watched her this morning as she explored the Garden. She is beautiful and seems intrigued by everything. Very innocent like.\"\n\n\"Does this woman have a name?\"\n\n\"Master, her name is Eve.\"\n\nHe stepped toward them as he thought. He was silent for a few minutes and then looked up. \"This is very interesting.\" Lucifer spoke slowly and deliberately. \"We could find a way to exploit this to our advantage.\"\n\n\"Yes Master.\" Hytu was happy with the progress they were now making. Lucifer had forgotten Olon's mistake and was no longer angry. \"Do you have anything in mind?\"\n\n\"Tell me, is she carrying his seed yet?\"\n\nHytu was unsure how to answer.\n\n\"Hytu, speak your mind,\" Lucifer commanded.\n\n\"They have not consummated their relationship.\"\n\n\"Explain yourself,\" Lucifer responded quickly.\n\n\"The Lord has granted that all they wish be theirs. But, they are denied only one thing. They are denied to eat the fruit from the tree of knowledge that stands at the center of the garden.\" Hytu watched as his master began to grin. \"So, I believe that they are innocent of physical lust.\"\n\nLucifer began to laugh. His voice thundered through the forest. His wings spread out as he lifted himself off the ground.\n\nAs his laughter became a roar, the flames of the small fire began to grow bigger. The angels stepped away as the heat became unbearable.\n\n## TWO\n\nThe Garden of Eden was contained within an endless expanse of land that was bordered on the north by a mountain, which reached above the clouds. About halfway to the base was an enormous waterfall, almost a hundred yards wide, which crashed below into a lake sending a large cloud of mist high above the water. The lake was twenty miles across and provided water for all the animals of the area.\n\nIt was here, above the waterfall, that Michael had spent most of the day contemplating the actions that he knew he must take today. He had met earlier that morning with the other three seraphs that made up God's inner council of angels. The four six-winged angels were chosen by God for their wisdom and kindness to help carry out his plans for mankind. Today, after much talking and prayer, they agreed on a course of action.\n\nMichael had been looking out over the sea of trees below him and watched the thousands of animals that lived throughout the Garden. And, occasionally he caught sight of the two people who would be the pivotal point for the battle of Heaven and man that now appeared unavoidable. Sadly, he knew that the power of wisdom could be overshadowed by the power of greed.\n\nHe remembered back to the fifth day of creation, which to Michael was the day the battle had actually begun. It was a day of great excitement for all the inhabitants of Heaven. He recalled sitting above the waterfall, as he now did, looking down to the lakeshore where God was standing. All the angels of the kingdom were in attendance. The mountainside was covered with his winged friends and the treetops held scores and many just hovered in the air watching God's actions.\n\nThe Lord, His hair blowing in the breeze, was silent as He slowly completed His task. He knelt down to one knee, and carefully with strong hands, created a mound of clay from the damp soil by the lake. Meticulously, He worked the soil into the shape He desired. His fingers shaped facial features and smoothed the rough edges. After a few minutes, He stopped and simply looked down at what he was about to create. Michael had a sensation that the Lord felt content and pleased.\n\nAnd now, all became quiet and still. The hovering angels kept their wings almost motionless. The animals throughout the Garden were stationary and silent. The wind ceased and all was calm. Michael could feel his heart pounding as he held his breath in excitement.\n\nWith a slow and deliberate effort, God placed a hand on the mound of clay and leaned forward. Gently, He blew onto the clay. As the force of His being enveloped the mound, it was surrounded with a swirling white light that blinded even the sun. The Lord stood up and stepped back from His work. Within a few seconds, the light was gone and the angels could see that the mound of clay was now replaced by man- the first man.\n\nThe man, looking up at God, appeared confused and then awed. Quickly, he turned over onto his knees and placed his head to the ground. Softly, he asked, \"My Lord, how may I serve you?\"\n\nGod raised his hands in front of Him, and the man was lifted to his feet. As the Lord placed his hands on the man's shoulders, he declared loudly for all to hear, \"My child, Adam, you will be the father of a great nation. Behold, your servants.\" The Lord turned and moved His hand through the air to show Adam the multitude of angels that now bowed before him.\n\nBut, as Michael thought back to the events of that day, he remembered uneasily that one angel refused to bow before Adam. The one angel who swore that he would never bow to any man - the cherub Lucifer.\n\nHe sighed as he realized it was time to complete his objective that he and the other seraphs decided he must do today. Briefly, he bowed his head in prayer asking for the Lord's guidance. His wings slowly expanded outward and lifted him upward. Flying from the mountaintop, he headed for his encounter with the cherub leader. He felt anxious but ready to meet his foe.\n\nThough he flew at the speed of light, Michael's eyes saw everything below him. He missed nothing as he looked down upon God's creation with love and compassion. He was ready to sacrifice himself for his Lord.\n\nIn the distance, he could see the Cherub's encampment. It was set at the bottom of a mountain one hundred miles west of Eden. The trees had been cleared to make room for an altar to use in worshipping God. Michael wondered if it was actually being used. He had his doubts.\n\nHe slowed himself and hovered just inside a cloud. He had never been here before and wanted to study the layout before making himself known to the cherubs. Looking down, he saw a wide walkway leading from a small lake. It was paved in marble and lined with marble columns. It led to a large golden gate with large stone lions sitting on either side. The trees hid the area beyond the gate.\n\nThough he could not say why, he felt a sense of danger. As if an unknown evil lurked within the shadows. He knew he must be on his guard but without losing sight of his mission. As he took a deep breath, he could feel a comforting warmth surround him. Michael knew that the Lord was with him.\n\nFlying slow toward the walkway, Michael allowed for the cherubs to see him. He did not want to alarm anyone. As he neared Lucifer's lair, he saw that the cherubs guarding the area were uneasy. It was not common for a seraph to enter this part of the kingdom. They watched him as he approached the walkway. And, he realized that they probably had never seen one of the six-winged seraphs before. Very rarely did the subordinate angels come into direct contact with the Lord's inner council.\n\nThe angels studied Michael as he came closer. They noticed his calm, but serious demeanor as he walked along the path toward them. His blond hair blew back from the breeze and the angels could make out his large build under his loose white and gold tunic. Michael carried no weapons, but his six wings radiated a force to be respected. He held his hands together in front of him as he approached the gate.\n\nThe cherub in charge of the lair stepped up to Michael as he stopped at the archway leading to the entrance. He was not sure how he should address such an important figure, so he waited for Michael to speak first.\n\nMichael saw the look of anxiety in the eyes of the angel and spoke with a calm and passive voice. \"I am here to speak with Lucifer.\"\n\n\"He is resting at this time.\" The angel knew that the master cherub did not like to be disturbed when sleeping and had no desire to bother him.\n\n\"Then wake him.\" Michael smiled softly.\n\nThe guard hesitated but Michael did not move.\n\n\"As you wish,\" the cherub replied, knowing he had no choice. \"May I inform him as to your name?\"\n\n\"I am Michael the Archangel.\" He bowed his head to show respect for the cherub.\n\nThe angel turned and left Michael at the entranceway. He could feel that the other angels were intimidated by his presence and some whispered to each other about his appearance at Lucifer's lair. He studied the surrounding area while he waited and the cherub returned within a few minutes.\n\n\"Please follow me.\" The cherub motioned Michael through the entrance.\n\nMichael was led down a long, secluded path, lined with trees, which led to room of marble. The cherub stopped and motioned for Michael to continue. As he approached the door, Michael could smell something foul. An odor of death that burned his nostrils. He shook his head and fluttered his wings trying to clear the air. But the odor remained.\n\nHe entered the room, which was lit by a pit of fire in the middle of the floor. The smoke escaped through a large opening in the roof. There were numerous statues of angels and animals lining the walls. Off to one side, Michael saw the carcass of a small deer lying on the floor. It was ripped open and had obviously been half eaten. The kill was still fresh as blood ran into the dirt. Michael wondered if the smell of death came from the deer. In the back of his mind, he knew better.\n\nLucifer stood near the pit with his back turned to the doorway. He slowly turned to face Michael but remained silent.\n\n\"You were requested to appear before the council to answer questions that concern us. Why have you ignored us?\" Michael spoke softly and placed his hands together in front of him.\n\nLucifer remained quiet for a few seconds and then raised a finger toward Michael. \"I do not answer to you!\" His voice was deep and hollow.\n\n\"You answer to God,\" Michael replied calmly. He noticed Lucifer's anger as he studied the master cherub's eyes. They seemed almost bottomless.\n\nLucifer resented Michael's attitude of indifference toward him. But, he smiled and replied cynically, \"Then let God come here and I will answer him.\"\n\nReturning Lucifer's smile, Michael replied, \"We, the council, represent God's word. You will answer to us if that is His wish.\"\n\nHe pointed his finger to the floor in front of him and an underlying growl could be heard in his voice. \"Then let Him appear before me and tell me so.\"\n\nThe archangel had been waiting for a challenge from Lucifer, but not one so open and daring. \"The Lord does not appear before arrogance.\" Michael kept his voice serene. \"He will reveal Himself as he wishes.\"\n\nTrying to scare the seraph, Lucifer suddenly expanded his wings to their fullest and fanned the flames of the fire. \"Michael, you seraphs are an insolent bunch.\" He paused. \"I could crush you with the wind from my wings.\" Stepping toward Michael, \"And if I chose to do so, would you still dare look upon me with such boldness?\"\n\n\"Lucifer, would you dare harm a servant of the Lord?\" Michael was not sure if Lucifer would openly attack him but he still held his ground ready for battle. He used a firm tone of voice to reject Lucifer's threat. \"You have always let pride and hastiness mar our judgment. Take heed lest they be your downfall.\"\n\nHe resisted the urge to reach for Michael's throat but still could not contain his anger. \"You and I have never been friends. But hear me now, as you would hear your closest confidant. There will come a day when you will bow before me. Take heed lest I raise my hand to your downfall.\"\n\nMichael raised his hand upward. \"Enough! You have gone too far.\" His tone was loud and harsh. \"There is still time for you to repent. But, you must make the choice.\"\n\nThe flames of the fire reflected from Lucifer's eyes as he replied, \"The choice I have is to take what is rightfully mine.\"\n\n\"I warn you!\" He paused. \"To place yourself outside the light of God is to cast yourself from the Kingdom of Heaven.\"\n\n\"Outside the light of God!\" He laughed. \"You forget. I am Lucifer, Son of the Morning. I am my own light!\"\n\n\"As you wish!\" Michael spread his six wings and he lifted himself upward. Flying through the open roof, the force of his wings blew out the flames of the fire.\n\nLucifer was left in the darkness.\n\n## THREE\n\nStanding by the shore of the lake, the deer stood perfectly still as Eve ran her hand down his neck and petted him. She loved all the animals in the Garden, but the deer were her favorite. They were beautiful, gentle, and had a warm serenity about them that drew Eve's love. She knew that there were many animals yet to be discovered and Eve was delighted with each new creature found. Her curiosity and inquisitive nature sustained her energetic personality in searching the Garden for the wonders that it held.\n\nAnd as Eve knelt by the deer she was unaware that she was being watched from the trees. Hidden behind a large bush, Lucifer stood silently and watched Eve as she petted the small deer. He had been observing her for most of the morning and had decided that Hytu had been right about her beauty. She was indeed beautiful and her innocent curiosity added to her outward appeal. Smiling, he knew that he would find pleasure in snaring this prey.\n\nThe time had arrived to implement his plan. Lucifer softly walked out from the cover of the trees toward Eve who had her back to him. As he came into view, the deer looked at him with startled eyes and then bolted and ran down the shoreline away from the predator.\n\nEve stood up and turned to face Lucifer. Initially, she was surprised. She and Adam rarely came into direct contact with the angels and then only a select few. This face was new for her, but she smiled warmly as he approached her. And as Lucifer came near to Eve, she saw not his true self but only that of a winged man.\n\nSoftly, he addressed her. \"You are the mistress of the Garden. I am at your service.\"\n\n\"Hello. I am Eve.\" Her voice was soft and serene.\n\nLucifer returned Eve's smile. \"I know who you are and it is a pleasure to meet you. How are you today?\"\n\n\"I am fine.\" She studied him with a keen interest. \"I do not know you.\"\n\n\"My name is Lucifer. I am a cherub.\"\n\n\"What is a cherub?\"\n\n\"We are charged with guarding Eden from intruders and protecting you and Adam. That is our sole purpose. I must say that I am honored to be entrusted with one who is as beautiful as you.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Eve looked down the lakeside to find the deer. But the deer had already run into the safety of the forest and could not be seen. \"I wonder what made the deer run away? He looked so scared.\"\n\nLucifer laughed politely. \"My dear, I am afraid it was I that caused the deer to run. I am sorry.\"\n\nShe looked at him with eyes that did not understand. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Come walk with me.\" He turned and motioned her to come with him. \"There is much about this place that you do not know. Let me teach you.\" He led her into the forest. Unknowingly to Eve, they walked toward the center of the Garden.\n\n\"Please tell me, why did the deer run from you?\" She looked up at his face as they walked.\n\n\"You eat only the fruits of trees.\" Lucifer placed his hand on her shoulder. \"I, and my kind, do not relish the products of plants. They do not sustain us.\"\n\n\"Then what do you eat?\"\n\n\"We eat meat.\"\n\n\"Meat?\" Eve was not ashamed of hiding her ignorance.\n\n\"The flesh of animals.\" Lucifer paused for Eve's reaction.\n\n\"But why?\"\n\nHe saw that she was not repulsed by his admission and merely listened to his words. \"Meat is what we have always eaten. God has given us the animals to help us thrive. It is as He wishes.\"\n\nEve's curiosity was raised. \"Then why do I not eat animals? God instructed that we eat the fruits of the trees.\"\n\nSmiling inwardly, Lucifer continued. \"God has different plans for everyone. And He does not always make His wishes known directly. Sometimes He allows for events or knowledge to be gained independent of His involvement.\" He looked down at her. \"It is as He wishes.\"\n\nLucifer stopped and picked a flower from its' stem. Holding it in front of Eve, he continued, \"This flower has four different petals. They are all the same. Are they not?\"\n\nShe shook her head in agreement. \"Yes.\"\n\nHe looked into her eyes. \"Look closer. Notice that each petal has different lines and curves. Do you still say that they are the same?\"\n\n\"They are the same but yet different. But, I do not understand your meaning?\"\n\n\"Sometimes God will show you the answer. Sometimes you will have to find your own. He has never instructed you that these petals are different but yet they are. You now know the character of the petals because you looked for yourself. There are times that knowledge does not always come straight from God. There are times you have to look for yourself.\"\n\nThey walked for hours through the Garden's forest as Lucifer continued to instruct her and open her mind's curiosity. He led and she followed without question. Only the hiding animals perceived the threat that had invaded them - and they hid in silence. Eve was unaware of the danger as she continued forth with her new teacher.\n\nAs he had planned, they finally arrived at the exact center of the Garden. Lucifer continued talking as Eve stopped and realized where she was. She was not afraid but she and Adam never came into this area.\n\n\"What is wrong my child?\" Lucifer asked innocently.\n\n\"We never come to this place.\" Eve pointed to the huge fruit tree standing in the center of the large clearing.\n\n\"Are you frightened?\"\n\n\"No. But God instructed that we not partake in the fruit of this tree. And we know that this is a special place.\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"Indeed it is a special place. But you know that God would never hurt you?\"\n\n\"I know that.\" Eve answered. \"But He did instruct us that this tree would harm us.\"\n\n\"My dear, this Garden is your home. Everything in it is yours to do with as you please. God would never place an obstacle before you that would cause you harm.\"\n\nHe patted her back. \"Do you not swim in the lake?\"\n\n\"Yes. I enjoy the cool water.\"\n\n\"But you know that you could drown and be killed. And yet, you continue to swim in the lake.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" She felt confused by Lucifer's suggestion.\n\n\"There are always natural dangers like the water. But He placed this tree here, for you and Adam, with his own hand. God would never harm you with his own hand.\"\n\nHe held out his hand to Eve. \"Take my hand and let me show you something.\"\n\nShe allowed herself to be led to the Tree of Knowledge. They stood in front of it, silently, for a few seconds. Slowly, he reached out and took hold of a branch. \"Please, do as I do. I will not allow you to come to harm.\"\n\nEve carefully did as he instructed.\n\n\"What do you think?\" Lucifer asked without looking at her.\n\n\"It feels like any other tree.\"\n\n\"Exactly. And, other trees do not harm you. Do they?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nHe let go of the tree branch. And without saying anything, he pulled a sampling of fruit from its' limb. \"This tree offers the most beautiful fruit in the Garden. Its' nectar is the sweetest.\"\n\nEve turned to Lucifer. \"You have tasted this fruit?\"\n\nIgnoring her question, he pulled another piece of fruit from the tree. \"Hold it.\"\n\nShe took the fruit cautiously in her hand.\n\n\"Does not the fruit feel pleasing? And your hands are unscarred by it.\"\n\nEve smiled.\n\nShe watched him place the fruit under his nose to inhale the aroma. Without thought, Eve did the same. All the anxiety she felt about the fruit left her as she bit into it. The sweetness of the pulp surged through her and she continued to eat the fruit. Eve felt lightheaded and almost dizzy as her mind swirled.\n\nAs she finished eating the fruit, her eyes were open and she saw the beauty in Lucifer's face. She did not understand what she felt, but she was drawn to Lucifer. She reached up and placed her hand on his face and an intense warm feeling rushed through her.\n\nLucifer stepped back from the Eve. \"I must leave. And you must return to your man.\"\n\n## FOUR\n\nGabriel rushed into Michael's room. \"My brother, it is time!\"\n\nContemplating the resent events, Michael wondered what the future would bring. The Lord had not revealed his plans and had told him \"all things will come to pass as they must\". He had been pondering the possibilities all day when Gabriel came into his room.\n\n\"The Lord has commanded that we summon the Host and be prepared to do battle!\", he was out of breath and his six wings were fluttering quickly as Michael turned to face him.\n\n\"What has happened?\"\n\nStopping to catch his breath, Gabriel replied, \"Lucifer is returning to the Garden again. Apparently, he has final plans that will destroy Adam\"\n\nMichael charged from his room in front of Gabriel. \"We must hurry! Have you alerted all the others?\"\n\n\"No. I came straight here.\"\n\nThey were almost running down the stone path leading from the seraph's quarters. \"Okay, I want the Host fully ready. There must be no mistakes. Do we know where Lucifer will be?\"\n\n\"I was told in the clearing near the lake.\"\n\n\"Alright, I'll meet you there.\"\n\nThey both flew off in different directions. Michael's mind was racing with thoughts as he headed for the Garden. In the distance, he could here the alarm of a thousand horns summoning the Lord's army. With the speed of lightening, his wings took him toward the Garden. In a matter of minutes he had traveled the distance to reach Eden and began to slow his speed. As he approached the lake area, he saw Peter, another seraph, standing at the top of the mountain, which bordered the lake.\n\nLowering himself down beside Peter, he saw that Peter had armed himself with a bow and quiver full of arrows. He handed Michael a sword and pointed down to the lake.\n\n\"They are down there.\"\n\nGlancing downward, Michael was caught off guard. \"What are they wearing?\"\n\n\"Animal skins. They started wearing them after Lucifer tempted Eve.\"\n\n\"Well, what have they been doing? And where is Lucifer?\"\n\n\"They both just arrived. All they have done is sit and watch the water.\" Peter pointed to various areas of the garden. \"I sent scouts out to different locations to watch. But, I have not heard anything, yet.\"\n\n\"Okay, I guess we just wait. What about the others?\"\n\n\"They are just over the horizon. If there is to be a battle, they will charge in at our command.\"\n\nMichael, with his six wings slowly moving back and forth, paced about showing his concern. \"The cherubs. How many have stayed loyal?\"\n\nPeter stepped in front of Michael and placed his hands on his friend's shoulders. \"About one third follow Lucifer.\"\n\nHis eyes showed his surprise. \"One third?\"\n\n\"Don't be alarmed. That is less than half of the warrior force and only a small percentage of the total force of the Host. The whole Host is ready to fight - the warriors and the non-warriors. We will prevail!\"\n\n\"I just find it difficult to believe that so many cherubs went to Lucifer.\" He paused. \"So many.\"\n\n\"Do not feel bad. Remember, they were all seduced by Lucifer's evil.\" Peter knew the love and loyalty that Michael had for the kingdom of God. \"Even though they have fallen from grace, we should not stop loving them. Only love can bring them back to the fold. And even in battle, we cannot forget that.\"\n\n\"As always, your wisdom is correct.\" Michael smiled.\n\nAs they spoke, the sun reached its' zenith and suddenly Lucifer appeared in the clearing below them. He did not bother to hide his true self as he had before with Eve. He smiled and walked toward the two keepers of the Garden.\n\nPeter was excited. \"Do we wait?\"\n\n\"No.\" Michael was now ready for whatever waited for them. \"We cannot allow him to harm them any further.\" He lifted himself up and charged to the clearing with Peter right behind him.\n\nLike a lightening bolt, he landed between Lucifer and the two people he was willing to die for. He held the sword in his right hand as he faced Lucifer. His wings were fully expanded, as he was ready to do battle.\n\nAdam and Eve were surprised and then scared with the sudden commotion. But, Lucifer remained calm and showed no fear. \"My friend, Michael. Are you ready to bow down to me?\" He smiled ever so slightly.\n\n\"You have defiled Eden!\" Michael's voice echoed throughout the Garden. \"Turn back and leave this place,\" he commanded.\n\n\"Leave?\" Lucifer asked with sarcasm. \"I told you, I will take what is rightfully mine. These two belong to me and they will bow to me.\" He pointed his long finger at Michael. \"And you will also bow before me. Or you will die.\"\n\nAs Lucifer spoke, thousands of his followers were filling the sky as they approached from the southern area of the Garden. They were all armed\n\n\"So be it! You have chosen your path. Now you must pay the price.\" Michael raised his sword to Lucifer and stepped toward him.\n\nWithout warning, the noonday sun became a blinding white light and the air vibrated with the charging horns of the Lord's army. Hundreds of thousands of angels appeared from over the horizon as the Lord's Host charged in from the north to face Lucifer and his followers. When the angels were a hundred yards apart, hovering in the air, the clear sky shook with thunder and the Lord appeared over the Garden.\n\nAll movement stopped. No noise was made. All attention was focused on the Lord.\n\nLucifer began to speak but hesitated.\n\n\"Hold thy tongue - prince of lies!\" The Lord's voice roared and the mountains shook from the sound of His order. \"You Satan, you have desecrated what I have created. And I will cast you into the pit of Hell. That will be your kingdom!\"\n\nThe Lord waved his hand and Satan was thrown back against a tree. \"You Beelzebub, you will rule the demons and burn forever!\"\n\nThe Lord's voice thundered and Satan was thrown into the air.\n\nAt the sound of the Lord's anger, hundreds of Lucifer's followers began to flee away from the Garden. Without warning, a lightening bolt came from the blue sky and struck them down. Falling from the sky, their bodies burned to ashes and they were scattered into the wind.\n\nAnother lightening bolt shot forth from the sun striking Satan. His body twisted from the pain as he screamed. His face became scarred from the heat. His wings caught fire and withered. His hands became like claws. Satan could no longer hide his true self behind false beauty.\n\nThe Lord placed himself over the lake and commanded, \"You are like the serpent and as so you will crawl on your belly. Cursed are you above all the livestock and all the wild animals! You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life.\n\n\"And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.\"\n\nRaising his hands up high, the Lord brought forth the winds. \"Be gone, you and your demons!\"\n\nThe thunder crashed as the winds rushed through the Garden. Satan and his followers were picked up and thrown into the horizon as they screamed and tumbled head-over-heal. Then they vanished. And then all became calm.\n\nFeeling scared, Adam and Eve stood near Michael and waited for their punishment. And the Lord looked down upon them. He smiled as he raised his hands gently to the sky. A single dove perched himself upon the Lord's hand.\n\nGently, He spoke, \"My children do not be afraid. I will always be with you.\"\n\nHe spoke to them as a loving father as he ordered them banished from the Garden, forever. Adam and Eve cried as the Lord left Eden and they were left alone with only Michael.\n\nSilently, Michael led them to the east gate of the Garden. Walking slowly, they both felt an uncertain fear - not knowing what the future held for them. As they both looked past the gate to Eden they saw a wilderness and knew that they were both now part of that wilderness.\n\nMichael tried to find the right words to say but simply hugged them both as tears ran down their faces.\n\n\"What will we do?\" Adam pleaded softly.\n\nLetting his faith lead him, Michael stated, \"The Lord's word is like a light unto your path. Always keep your eyes upon the light and you shall never lose your way.\"\n\nTrusting his friend, but unsure of himself, Adam asked, \"What if I do lose my way?\"\n\n\"God will always show you the path of righteousness. You, my friend, merely have to follow his guidance. And if by chance you veer off the true course, God will always be waiting to bring you back onto the lighted path.\" Michael smiled and gave them both one last hug.\n\n## Freedom's Light\n\nI am a free man. This thought sat at the back of Isaac's mind. It floated in his subconscious and gently prodded his waking moments. There were times, especially when he stared to the north that it ran through his body like lightening. Grabbing him. Almost spinning him around and around. He felt he could reach out and take hold of this very idea. It was always with him.\n\nHe smiled, not knowing why, as he sat up from his pallet. It being nothing more than a few worn out cotton sacks laid on the hard dirt floor of his cabin. The cabin itself was only a small wood frame shack with a leaky roof, a stool and small table, and a makeshift fireplace in one corner. Little windows on either end of the narrow building let in air and light.\n\nYawning, he spotted a field mouse nibbling at some corn he had dropped the day before. Isaac recognized the mouse by his shortened tail. At one time the tail had been long, but Isaac had cut it off with a knife the first time he had seen the rodent. He had aimed for the head but hit the tail. That was before Isaac had developed a liking for the mouse. Now the rodent came and went as he pleased.\n\n\"Mista Mouse, a good mornin' to y'all. Y'all still don' have the manners to knock on my door before y'all come into my house.\"\n\nThe mouse did not look at Isaac as it took a piece of corn and ran through a crack in the wall.\n\nIsaac shook his head and laughed. The door had been open, night and day, throughout the hot summer, but the mouse never bothered to use it. He had his own door. Though Isaac was amazed that he could get through such a small opening in the wall.\n\nAs he stood up and stretched, he could hear the others getting ready for the day's work to begin. Approaching the door, he looked indifferently at the mansion on top of the hill. Yawning one last time, he scratched the dust from his hair, as he turned sideways to step through the door. Isaac was not a tall man, but he was big and the door was too small for him to simply walk through.\n\nHis cabin was at the end of slave row - sixty run down shacks occupied by one hundred and twenty slaves of various ages. The cabins were actually set in a square grid pattern, but they still called it slave row. Isaac had been sharing his cabin with a slave named Tommy Blue, but he had recently been killed trying to escape from the plantation. There was talk that new slaves would arrive today and one would be placed in Isaac's cabin.\n\nThe slave's communal area was at the other end of slave row and Isaac had to walk to the other side to wash up and eat. There were three rickety old tables with stools; a cooking fire; and a water trough for washing, cleaning, and drinking. Approaching this area, Isaac could hear Grandma Liza, the oldest slave on the plantation, giving her morning orders for everyone to eat and get to the fields before the overseer came along with his whip.\n\nNo one knew how old she was, but she had been on the plantation longer than any of the other slaves. And though Grandma Liza was old, she still did her share of the fieldwork. Everyone knew that when she got too old to work properly, Master Franklin would sell her off, for a small quick profit, to poor white trash who would work her to death.\n\nIsaac bent over the water trough and used his hands to slowly skim a film of slime from the middle of the water. Then he splashed water onto his face and rubbed his eyes. \"Oh my! That sure' feel good. I think I could just lays down right in it and stays all day.\"\n\nGrandma Liza came up to him and shook her finger at him. \"Isaac, you best be gettin' some food and gets yo'self to the fields.\"\n\nReaching toward her, he kissed her forehead. \"Grandma don' y'all look as pretty as the spring. Yes, I believes y'all do!\"\n\nShe stepped back and tried to act angry. \"Go on with yo'self now! Don't be tryin' to flatter me!\" She handed him a bowl of rice and bread.\n\nLooking at the bowl, Isaac smiled at the old woman. \"Why Miz Liza, where's my eggs and grits ?\"\n\n\"Why boy! Did y'all fall on your head last night? What you think this is? Do y'all thinks that Massa Franklin goin' to invites y'all to his table and hand feeds y'all hisself?\"\n\nEveryone began to laugh at the old woman's humor and quick tongue.\n\n\"Now, you best gets yo'self to work 'fore Mr. Buford comes after you with his whip. He never in good spirits this time of mornin'\"\n\n\"You rights 'bout his spirit. But he be hittin' me once to many times with that whip. And, some day I be a showin' him about it.\" Isaac nodded his head seriously. \"Yes, I be showin' him some day.\" He quickly ate his food and handed his bowl to a female slave who washed the dishes for them.\n\nAgain, the finger was in his face and this time the anger was real. \"Now, y'all listen here boy! Y'all hush that talk. Else they be a burning y'all with kerosene likes they done Tommy Blue. Y'all seen what they did to him. Now hush and go to work. Don' be talkin' no more' foolishness.\"\n\n\"Yes'em Grandma. I don't mean to makes y'all mad. I's sorry.\" Isaac turned and walked to the barn where the farming equipment was stored. All the other slaves were doing the same to begin their day of fieldwork. Just like they did every day of the week.\n\nIssac looked up and found himself walking beside Mule, a slave named for his large ears, who was still eating some old bread. \"How is y'all this mornin' Mule?'\n\n\"Well, I'll tells y'all. If this here bread don' breaks my teeth, I's thinks I'll have a good day.\" Mule laughed and continued to eat the bread. \"Lawd, it barely be day break and it already be hot. I's thinks I'll sweat away to nothin'.\"\n\n\"Yez, it surely be hot. Just waits till noon.\" They both nodded in agreement and continued on to the barn. When they reached it, the overseer, Buford, was handing out hoes, rakes, and shovels. And as always, he had his whip held in his left hand.\n\nIsaac and Mule waited in line to be given their tools and assignments for the day. After a few minutes they reached the front and Mule was given a hoe and told to go to the fields. The overseer looked at Isaac and pointed to the back of the barn with his whip. \"Boy, I want you to get an ax and get some fire wood. The cook house is gettin' low.\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\" He was careful not to show he was happy about the job. Chopping trees was hard work, but not as hard as working in the fields all day in the hot sun. If Buford knew that Isaac was glad about the assignment, he would make him go to the fields and tell another slave to gather the wood.\n\n\"I needs a pass to go off into the woods,\" Isaac stated without thinking.\n\nThe overseer suddenly turned angry and raised the whip as a threat. \"You tryin' to tell me my job, boy! You done forgot who the nigger is here?\"\n\nIsaac quickly took two steps back and lowered his head. \"I's awfully sorry Mr. Buford. I's sorry, sir.\" He was looking down at his feet waiting for the whip to strike. \"I's didn't mean to tell y'all nothin' sir. I's just meant to ask y'all sir. That's all sir. That's all!\"\n\nWith false sincerity, Buford told Isaac, \"That's okay boy. Now look at me.\"\n\nLearning many years before that a slave never looked a white man directly in the eyes, Isaac raised his eyes up to the overseer's chest. \"Yez sir.\"\n\nWithout warning, Isaac was struck across the face by the white man's hand. \"I know you're a stupid nigger. That's why I won't get mad. You just be glad that I'm caring 'bout my niggers. Some overseers ain't as gentle as I am.\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\" Isaac wanted to rub his face, but kept his hands down by his sides. His head throbbed as he remembered watching Buford hang his friend, Tommy Blue, upside down from a tree and set fire to him after Tommy had accidentally broke a horse's leg while trying to escape.\n\nReaching into a pocket, the overseer pulled out a piece of paper, which stated that Isaac had Master Franklin's permission to be in the woods for the day. Buford looked at the pass as if inspecting it. All the slaves made an effort not to look at him. They all knew that he could not read.\n\n\"Well, I believe everything's in order.\" He handed the pass to Isaac. \"Now don't you lose that pass. Can't have the sheriff catching you in the woods without one.\" He laughed. \"He does like to hang niggers. Course, when he's in a mean mood, he'll turn his hounds loose. They do like the dark meat.\"\n\nIsaac took the pass without looking up. \"I gets right to it, sir. Does y'all want me to take a wagon or just a mule?\"\n\nBuford, a long sufferer of lice, scratched his head. \"I'll think you best take the wagon. You can bring back about six trees. And while you're at it, get a second ax and take that boy, Billy, with you. He needs to learn how to use an ax.\"\n\n\"Yez sir'.\" Isaac started to the back of the barn to get the tools.\n\n\"Isaac!\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\"\n\n\"Y'all get out there, do your work, and get straight back. If I come out there and find you sleeping, I'll tear you a new back side. You understand?\"\n\n\"Yez sir\" Isaac found two axes and went to the wagon where he found Billy waiting for him. \"Y'all ready to cut some wood this mornin'?\"\n\n\"Yez sir, Mr. Isaac!\" Billy was thrilled at being able to go with Isaac. It made him feel older and special. He had watched the other children go into the fields, but soon forgot about them. Billy knew he had an important task today. He sat up straight on the wagon seat when he had seen Isaac coming.\n\nIsaac saw the look of excitement on Billy's face and smiled. \"Y'all ever cut wood 'fore?\"\n\n\"No sir. But, I's real quick 'bout learnin' things, sir. And I's strong too!\"\n\nHe padded the boy's knee. \"I bets you is. Yez sir, y'all do real fine.\" He motioned for Billy to get down from the wagon. \"Come on. We got to gets the mule. But watch yo'self, cause she's a might fussy. Y'all give her the chance and she'll bites a hunk out of your hide.\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\" Billy had seen the mule bite other slaves before and decided he would stay clear of her head. Not only would it hurt, but it would also cause him embarrassment when the other children found out. He knew they would tease him for days.\n\nThey got the mule hitched to the wagon without any problems and started down a back road from the plantation. As soon as the wagon was out of sight from the cotton fields, Billy began to look eagerly about. He looked up and down the trees, peered through the forest, and watched the animals run away from the approaching wagon. Everything drew his attention.\n\n\"Boy, ain't y'all been out this way 'fore?\" Isaac was amused at Billy's actions.\n\n\"No sir. I's only been far as the fields.\" He eyebrows raised up with a new thought. \"I's onced in the servant's work room of Massa Franklin's house. I had to carry a bucket of water for Miss Mary. But, I thinks she was mad at me. So, I left real quick like.\"\n\n\"Why y'all thinks Miss Mary mad at y'all?\"\n\n\"Well sir, when she used to work in the fields, she was real nice to me. She always talks to me and smilin' at me. That day, she wasn't smilin' or hardly even looks at me. The only time she talked at me was when she was givin' me orders and tellin' me how's to carry the water bucket.\"\n\nChuckling, Isaac replied, \"Son, she wasn't mad at y'all. She just actin' like a house nigger.\"\n\n\"Sir?\" Billy frowned.\n\n\"Sometimes when a field nigger gets moved to the big house, they think they's more' better then the rests of us. So, they start to actin' uppity.\"\n\n\"Why they do that?\"\n\n\"They don't have to work in the fields no more' - lessin they makes the massa mad an' he puts 'em back to the fields. They get to wear nice clothes - not likes we be wearin'. They clothes are clean, don' got no holes or bugs. They gets to sleep on rugs and not on no dirt.\"\n\n\"So, they's better then us.\"\n\nIsaac stopped the wagon and looked at Billy. \"No sir. They's no better then you or me. They just has it better then workin' in the fields. They's still niggers - just like you an me. Y'all understands?\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\" Though Billy's facial expression showed that he still did not quite understand the explanation that Isaac had given him. But his busy mind quickly changed to new thoughts and his facial expressions changed too.\n\n\"How old is y'all boy?\" Isaac snapped the reins and got the mule going again.\n\nBilly thought for a few seconds and he shook his head. \"I's don' know sir.\"\n\n\"Y'all don' know how to counts?\"\n\n\"No sir. Mama says it's dangerous for niggers to count or read. She says Massa Franklin would gets mad.\"\n\n\"Well, your' mama is sure rights 'bout that. But just cause y'all can count or read don't mean the massa has to finds out. Y'all just don't let on to the white man that y'all can.\" Isaac turned toward the boy. \"Now, look here. How many a mule we gots pullin' this here wagon?\"\n\n\"Only one.\"\n\n\"If we had 'nother mule 'long side this one, how many that make?\"\n\nBilly's smiled widely as he knew the answer. \"Two.\"\n\n\"See, y'all can count. Y'all kin do some'in ands y'all didn't knows y'all could do it.\"\n\nBilly felt proud of himself. \"Sir, how old is y'all thinks I is?\"\n\nRubbing his chin, Isaac look down at Billy. \"Y'all should be 'bout as old as my boy. So, y'all should be 'bout ten year old.\"\n\n\"Y'all gots a boy?\" Billy was surprised.\n\n\"Yez, I does.\" Isaac was saddened by the thought of his wife and child.\n\nNot realizing that he had upset Isaac, Billy asked, \"If'in y'all gots a boy, where is he?\"\n\nLooking straight ahead, Isaac felt a tear run down his face.\" 'Bout four year ago, a rich banker from the north come 'long lookin' for a houseboy. Massa Franklin sold him my boy. He be gone ever since.\"\n\n\"Where's his ma?\"\n\n\"She pitched a fit when Massa sold our boy. She done yelled and hollered. Even throwed a rock clean through a window of the big house.\" He looked at Billy for a moment and continued. \"Massa Franklin whipped her, hisself, he so mad. Almost killed her with that whip. Then he done sold her down south to 'nother plantation.\"\n\nBilly's voice lowered. \"Y'all ever gonna get 'em back?\"\n\nIsaac replied firmly, \"Some day. Some day when I gets aways from here I'll go an finds 'em.\"\n\nBilly did not know what to say and they rode the rest of the way in silence. Isaac forced the memories of his family from his mind as he stopped the mule near a clearing in the woods. He climbed down from the wagon and reached for both axes.\n\n\"Boy, get on down here. I gonna show y'all 'bout this ax. 'Cause, if y'all ain't careful, y'all could cut your own leg off. Then I'd have Hell to pay when your Mama got's 'hold of me.\"\n\nBilly listened closely to Isaac's instructions and then Isaac picked out a small tree for him to work on first. \"We'll cuts 'em down here, cuts the limbs off, loads 'em up in the wagon, and then takes 'em back and then cuts 'em into fire wood. Now don't goes to fast or else y'all tires yo'self out 'fore the jobs ended.\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\"\n\nAfter an hour, they had cut down six trees. Billy was only able to cut down two trees to Isaac's four, but he still felt proud of himself. As he was wiping the sweat from his face, he spotted a rabbit a few feet away. He whispered to Isaac, \"Mr. Isaac. Look over there at the rabbit.\"\n\nIsaac saw the rabbit and replied, \"Y'all likes to eat rabbit, boy?\"\n\n\"Yez sir. I likes it fine.\"\n\n\"Well then, looks like we gots rabbit for the night.\" Isaac slowly bent over and picked up a rock. He took careful aim, threw the rock, and hit the rabbit square on the head. They both ran to the rabbit and found it dead.\n\n\"Mr. Isaac, y'all sure' can throws a rock!\" Billy look at Isaac with admiration.\n\n\"Mr. Billy, when y'all is hungry, y'all learn real quick like to take true aim.\" He smiled and winked at Billy.\n\n\"We's gonna eats 'em here?\" Billy's stomach had started to growl as he realized he was getting hungry. The rabbit looked like just the thing to satisfy him.\n\n\"Wished we could. But, we got work to finish. We'll hides 'em in the wagon for now and cook 'em up tonight after dark.\"\n\n\"Why we have to hides 'em?\"\n\nIsaac picked up the rabbit and they walked to the wagon. \" 'Cause, if Mr. Buford finds 'em, he'll just keeps 'em for hisself. So, not a word to nobody. This just our secret.\"\n\nBilly felt excited about sharing a secret with a man. \"Where's we gonna cook 'em?\"\n\n\"We gonna cook 'em on a spit over my fireplace. But, likes I says, we'll has to wait until after dark. That ways nobody will see the smoke. 'Specially Mr. Buford. 'Course he be drunk by nights fall an I don't thinks he be seein' much.\"\n\nAfter loading the trees into the wagon, they hid the rabbit under the limbs. Then they started back to the plantation and Billy fell fast asleep. He leaned against Isaac as he slept and Isaac thought of his own son. He tried to remember what he looked like but he could only see a blur. It had been so long since he had lost him. A feeling of anger, which he had lived with for so long, simmered within him.\n\nHe snapped the reins against the mule and spoke to himself. \"Yez sir, there will come a time.\"\n\nWhen they got within sight of the fields, Isaac nudged Billy and woke him up. Billy rubbed his eyes and sat up straight. \"Did I fall asleep?\"\n\nIsaac grinned, \"Falls asleep? Son, if'in y'all hadn't been snoring, I's a taken y'all for the dead. Lawd, I ain't never saw nobody that could sleep likes y'all.\"\n\nBilly grinned back but said nothing. They both saw Master Franklin's buggy coming up the front road to the mansion. Master Franklin, alone in the buggy, looked about with an air of self-importance and satisfaction.\n\nWalking behind the buggy were two new slaves. The man and woman walked silently side-by-side as the sweat glistened from their naked bodies. They were both secured to the buggy by chains which were attached to iron collars around their necks.\n\n\"They sure' looks scared.\" Billy had lost his grin.\n\n\"They should be,\" Isaac replied in a low voice.\n\n\"Why's that, Mr. Isaac?\"\n\nHe looked down at Billy as he drove the wagon toward the barn. \"Boy, y'all was born here. Y'all is used to seein' niggers gettin' whipped and beat. But, they looks likes they right off the boat. If'in they are, then they have the rights to be scared.\"\n\n\"How y'all know they just got off the boat?\"\n\n\"The way they walks an' looks.\" He stopped the wagon near the barn and climbed down. \"Well sir, we has to get back to the wood choppin'.\"\n\nThey spent the rest of the day chopping the trees into firewood and carrying it to the cookhouse. Isaac also had Billy take some of it to the slaves cooking area for their use. And when he saw the overseer ride off to the fields, he took the rabbit and hid it behind his cabin.\n\nAs they were unhitching the mule from the wagon, the overseer came riding up to them and stopped. Knowing that Isaac had completed the wood chopping, he asked, \"Boy, you finish that work I told you do to?\"\n\n\"Yez sir. We just gots through.\"\n\n\"You get six trees like I done told you?\"\n\n\"Yez sir. Just like y'all told me. We carried it all to the cookhouse. But, we did take some to slave row. But, only some.\"\n\n\"All right. Now listen, Master Franklin just brought in two slaves. They fresh from the auction house, and all they talk is that jungle jibberish. I put the nigger buck in your cabin. Tomorrow, you take him to the fields with you. I expect you to teach him real good. You hear?\"\n\n\"Yez sir. I teaches him real good for y'all.\"\n\n\"You best! And, Master Franklin wants to call him Tommy. Says it will be easy to remember.\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\"\n\nWaving his whip toward the cookhouse, \"You two get some water carried up to the cook house. The barrels are gettin' low. Go on now.\"\n\n\"Yez sir.\" He went and found three water pails from the cookhouse.\n\nGiving one pail to Billy, he took two for himself and they walked down to the river which ran past the plantation. It was the boundary between Master Franklin's plantation and another one to the west. The river was fifty yards from the cookhouse and it took the rest of the day for them to haul enough water to fill the four water barrels.\n\n\"Mr. Isaac, I didn't knows that carryin' water could be so hard.\" Billy had put in a long day and was glad that it was almost over.\n\n\"Yez sir! Y'all done worked real hard. I recken y'all 'bout ready to quit for the day.\" Isaac chuckled. \"But, we got some more' water to carry.\"\n\nBilly suddenly felt even more tired. \"We does? All the water barrels is full.\"\n\nLightly slapping Billy on the back, \"Our water trough is gettin' low. We might as well fill it or Grandma Liza will be gettin' us 'fore the nights over.\"\n\nAfter two more trips to the river they were finished and took the pails back to the cookhouse. All the other slaves were coming in from the fields and getting ready to eat. Forgetting about the rabbit, Billy found his mother and ate rice and bread with her. He was getting ready to lay down for the night when Isaac found him.\n\nIsaac motioned for Billy to come with him behind the cabins. \"Boy, y'all done forgot 'bout the rabbit?\"\n\nBilly grinned real big. \"Yez sir! But, I's hungry all over again. When does we eats?\"\n\nIssac laughingly replied, \"Got's to wait 'till after sundown. Then y'all comes to my cabin and will eats us one big rabbit. How's that sound to y'all?\"\n\n\"That real fine.\" Billy ran off without another word.\n\nIsaac laughed at the boy's happiness and returned to his cabin. He had forgotten about the new slave and found him standing in a corner, still without clothes, with his ankles shackled by a short length of chain.\n\nLooking surprised, Isaac approached him. \"How y'all doin'?\"\n\nThe man, obviously scared, simply looked at Issac and made no attempt to talk.\n\n\"Do y'all knows your name is Tommy? That's what they gonna call y'all from now on.\"\n\nAgain, no response.\n\n\"Y'all don't has to just stand there all night.\" Isaac picked up the stool and placed it near the man. \"Might as well sit down. Y'all's gonna be here a while.\" He patted the stool and smiled.\n\nAfter Isaac stepped back from the stool, Tommy slowly sat down but without ever taking his eyes off Isaac. Isaac saw that the act of sitting looked painful for him. Cautiously, he approached the man.\n\n\"There ain't no reason for y'all to be scared.\" He spoke softly and slow. Tommy watched Isaac and acted like he would get up and run. \"No reason to run. The chains gonna slow y'all down just a might. 'Sides, there ain't no where to go. An, Mr. Buford would just shoots y'all. Or does some'in' more' worse.\"\n\nIsaac eased behind the man and found what he had already suspected. \"Lawd, they done taken y'all's back clean off.\" The new slave's back was oozing blood from a recent lashing. Isaac counted thirty lash marks of various lengths. \"The one thing y'all gots to learn is that Mr. Buford sure' likes his whip. Yez sir, he sure' do.\"\n\nIsaac came around the front of the man and looked at him. \"I be right back. Then we'll fix y'all right up.\"\n\nIsaac left the cabin and returned a few minutes later. He was out of breath as he entered the cabin. \"I's had to hurry. Mr. Buford almost caught me down by the river. If'in he had done that, we be usin' these poultices on me 'stead of y'all's back.\"\n\nTommy looked at Isaac with curiosity and said nothing.\n\nIsaac caught his breath as he tried to think of a way to get the man to lay down. \"I needs y'all to lay down on the floor'.\"\n\nIsaac received no response. Only a look of misunderstanding. After a few seconds of thinking, Isaac acted out what he wanted Tommy to do. As he patted the floor, he said, \"Now, y'all lays down here like this. On your' belly. Then we gets y'all fixed up.\"\n\nSurprising Isaac, the new slave did as he was showed. Pleased with himself, Isaac said, \"Well Tommy, looks like we startin' off good. Now, let's get yo'self taken care of.\"\n\nIsaac showed Tommy the mixture of mud and moss and indicated he was going to apply it to his back. \"Now, this gonna be cold. Might sting a might. But, it'll stop the bleedin' and helps it ease the pain. Y'all be just like new in no time.\"\n\nTommy laid still as Isaac applied the poultice to his back. Within a short time, he fell asleep, from exhaustion, as Isaac talked to him about the slave's life on the plantation.\n\nLater, after the moon was up, Billy came into the cabin. Looking down at the new slave, he said, \"They beat him?\"\n\n\"Yez, they did.\"\n\n\"What he do to gets beat?\" Billy sat down in a corner and watched the man.\n\n\"Don't has to do nothin' to get beat. Bein' a nigger is all y'all has to do sometimes.\" Isaac looked sadly at the boy. \"As y'all gets older, y'all learn the hard way. An, your gettin' close to bein' older.\"\n\nIsaac smiled at Billy. \"I bets y'all ready for some rabbit 'stead of me talkin'\"\n\n\"Yez sir!\" Billy could hardly hide his excitement. All evening he had thought of nothing else except coming to Isaac's cabin and eating rabbit.\n\n\"Y'all not hungry, is y'all?\" Isaac was tickled at Billy's enthusiasm\n\n\"Yez sir, I's real hungry.\" Billy was also excited about being able to share a meal with a Isaac. He had gone into the woods with him to cut wood and now he was getting to eat a rabbit after dark with him.\n\n\"Y'all stays here. I be right back.\" Isaac retrieved the rabbit and returned to the cabin.\n\nIsaac got his knife which he kept hidden under his pallet. He quickly had the rabbit dressed and on the spit. \"Here you goes boy. Just place him over the fire. I be right back.\"\n\n\"Where y'all goin?\"\n\n\"I gonna takes the fur and guts down to the river bank. Dogs will most likely eats 'em.\" Isaac wrapped up the entrails inside the fur and left. He walked behind slave row and stayed near the bushes and trees so he would not be seen. Near the river bank, he left the rabbit's remains under a bush and returned to his cabin.\n\nWalking into his cabin, Isaac felt fortunate not to have been caught. But, his happiness was soon gone. Stepping into the door, he found the rabbit laying in the dirt. Tommy was trying to hide in a corner as he held his hands in front of his face. The overseer, smelling of whiskey, was holding Billy off the floor by his neck. When he saw Isaac walk in, he dropped Billy and turned on Isaac.\n\n\"You damn nigger! Where'd you steal that rabbit from?\"\n\nIsaac was scared and talked fast. \"Mr. Buford, I ain't steals no rabbit. I can explain where we gots him from. I's...\" Buford drove his fist into Isaac's face before he could move and was knocked against the wall.\n\nBuford turned on Billy again and kicked him in the chest. The boy was thrown back into Tommy. \"Boy, you best tell me everything or I'll kill you right now! I'll kill you with my bare hands and then I'll get my whip and finish off Isaac.\"\n\nHe pulled Billy up to his feet. \"Talk to me nigger!\" He slapped Billy with the back of his hand.\n\nBilly tried to say something but was crying too hard to talk.\n\nThe overseer was screaming. \"I said talk!\" He lifted Billy up off the floor by his shoulders and slammed his knee into the boy's stomach.\n\nBilly collapsed to the floor and started to vomit. Buford started to stomp his foot onto Billy's head when someone knocked him into the wall. He was surprised but recovered quickly. He got up and turned to find Isaac standing before him.\n\nPointing a long finger at Isaac's face, he yelled, \"You hit me nigger. You hit me! I'll hang you by your balls and kill you!\"\n\nIsaac had lost the inborn fear of whites he had lived with for so long. \"Touch that boy again an' I'll kill y'all!\" He stood before the overseer with clinched fists.\n\nSuddenly from behind, Tommy was on his feet and pushed Buford against the wall. The white man lost his balance and fell into the hard wood. As he turned and tried to blindly strike out, Isaac grabbed him and threw him across the room.\n\nBuford landed in the small fireplace and his face was burned by the hot coals. Screaming, he rolled away from the coals and momentarily forgot about the two slaves. Before he could regain his senses, Isaac was over him.\n\nStill confused from being injured, Buford heard a low, growling voice, \"Where's y'all whip now, Massa.\"\n\nBuford tried to stand but fell on his back. Looking up, he saw Isaac lean over him and he tried to kick him. \"Nigger!\"\n\nIsaac took Buford by the neck with one hand and by the crotch with the other. As Buford screamed, Isaac drove the overseer's body against the wall. Again and again. The cabin shook with the force of Isaac's strength. A thunderous noise came from the cabin.\n\n\"Isaac!\" A man's voice yelled from the door. \"Isaac stop!\"\n\nIsaac, lost in his anger and hate, heard his name being called from what seemed like a great distance. He continued to slam the man into the wall.\n\n\"Isaac!\"\n\nSuddenly he stopped and held Buford's body in front of him. Slowly, he looked to the door.\n\nThe voice spoke softer now. \"Isaac, puts him down. He's dead.\"\n\nFinally, he saw Mule standing near him. He looked at Mule and then at Buford. The wall in front of him was covered in blood, and the back of the overseer's head was a bloody pulp. Looking at Mule, he dropped Buford to the floor.\n\n\"Isaac, y'all gots to run. Isaac?\" Mule saw that Isaac was not moving. He just stood in front of the dead overseer and looked at Mule.\n\nThere were other slaves standing outside the cabin and losing their initial shock began talking. Some tried to get closer to the cabin.\n\nMule was scared and tried to think about what to do. He turned around and told the group, \"Hush now. We got real problems. We don't need a mess of noise.\"\n\nEveryone obeyed Mule and stood still.\n\nStepping up to Isaac, Mule put a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly, \"Isaac, y'all got to listen.\" He gently squeezed the shoulder. \"Listen to me. They's gonna kill y'all. It's time y'all gots out of here. Now! Tonight!\"\n\nIsaac was afraid to talk. He felt like he was standing in quicksand and could not move. Slowly he focused on Mule. \"Mule?\"\n\nGrinning, \"Yez, it's me boy. Can y'all here me now?\"\n\n\"Where's Billy?\"\n\nMule looked over at Billy who was on his hands and knees. He was no longer vomiting, but tears were streaming from his eyes and he was breathing in gulps. \"He's fine. Don't worry 'bouts him. We take care of Billy.\" Shaking Isaac, \"Y'all got to get gone!\"\n\n\"Where?\" He was still dazed.\n\nPulling Isaac to the door. \"Gets to the river and go upstream. Can y'all swim?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Okay. Just stays in the water when y'all can- that a throw the dogs off. Follow the river as far as y'all can.\"\n\nHe was seeing Mule's face clearly now. Aware of his surroundings, he knew he had to leave- and quickly. \"What's I do if'in I can't follow the river no more'?\"\n\nShaking his head, \"I don't know. Y'all just does the best y'all can.\" Mule turned around and spoke to the other slaves. \"Thomas, y'all gets Billy back to his ma and help take care of him. And, keeps his ma quite. We don't needs her squallin' and caring on.\"\n\nThe man named Thomas did as he was told. Entering the cabin, he gently picked Billy up and stepped to the door. Billy wanted to say something to Isaac but was hurting too much to speak. Isaac touched the boy's face as he was carried away.\n\nMule turned to another slave. \"Get that new nigger and takes him to y'all's cabin.\" He glanced at the remaining slaves. \"Rest of y'all, gets back to y'all's cabin. 'Less, y'all wants a piece of Massa's whip.\"\n\nEveryone did as they were told and Mule and Isaac were left alone.\n\n\"Isaac, y'all gots to go. Now!\"\n\nIsaac was scared. He knew he had to leave, but at the same time he did not want to leave the only people he knew. \"Mule?\"\n\nPulling Isaac to the door, \"Ain't no Mule 'bouts it. Gets to the river. And, if'in y'all here's somebody a comin', stays in the bushes. Get!\"\n\nIsaac suddenly found himself running toward the river. Some of the other slaves, afraid of what the next day would bring, watched from their cabins as Isaac made his way to the river and out of sight. No one said a word.\n\nRunning along the river side, he tried to stay in the water as much as he could when the river banks were low and the water was shallow. Isaac hoped that he could keep the hunting dogs from tracking him as he ran into the darkness. For him, it seemed like he ran forever.\n\nWhen it became too dark to see, he stopped and rested. Falling to the ground on his knees, Isaac tried to catch his breath. His chest burned and his legs were numb and weak. Every time he exhaled, it sounded as loud as thunder and he wondered if anyone could hear him.\n\nFinally, he was able to stand up, though his legs were still shaky. Without a full moon, Isaac had trouble seeing very far, but he knew that the darkness was a blessing for him. Slowly, he began to make his way along the river bank.\n\nWalking for hours, he tried to concentrate on noises in the distance. Listening for horses, people, and the barking of dogs. He feared the approach of men, but the thought of hunting dogs terrified him. He had seen dogs kill people before and he no desire to die like that.\n\nWell into the night, Isaac realized that he would have to rest. His emotions told him to keep going, but he knew that he needed to stop and regain his strength. Finding a thick grove of trees, he crawled underneath the branches of a fallen tree that would keep him secluded from anyone passing by. Isaac told himself that he would not sleep. He would only rest until sunlight, when he would start moving up river again. Leaning back, he listened and peered into the night. He watched. He listened. And finally, his eyes closed and he slept.\n\nBut, as if only after a few minutes, he was startled and bolted up from where he was laying. The sun was rising up in the horizon as he quickly crawled out from the branches. Isaac was scared, but he did not know why. He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts.\n\nSuddenly, he heard what had woken him. Horses! Men's voices shouting. And, dogs!\n\nIsaac, forgetting about how tired and weak he felt, started for the river without looking back. He was about to jump over the river bank and out of sight when the bullet struck his shoulder. The force knocked him to the ground. Isaac fell, again, as he tried to scramble to his feet. Quickly regaining his balance, he was up. Looking around, he felt confused as he tried to locate the river. Turning, Isaac saw the horses riding down on him.\n\nThe shotgun pellets blasted into his chest just before the dogs jumped on him. They ripped into his flesh as he cried out. Kicking and flailing out with his arms and legs, he tried to get away from the dogs. Losing control of his bowels, Isaac screamed out from pain and terror. Amazingly he could clearly hear the slave catchers talking.\n\n\"Once them hounds get through with him there won't be nothin' left for us.\" Isaac heard the high pitched voice giggle.\n\n\"Yeah, but they got to eat. That's why I always keep 'em a little hungry. They always track better when they're hungry.\" Both voices laughed loud and hard. \"Jesus! That boy is startin' to smell. I think he messed his britches.\"\n\nIsaac felt his neck being ripped open and sensed the blood and air bubbling from the hole in his windpipe. He knew his resistance was futile as the dogs continued to bite and tear into his body.\n\nHe felt no pain as he died.\n\nIsaac's soul left his body and he found himself standing in a field of thick green grass with wild flowers scattered about as far as he could see. A gentle breeze surrounded him. As his outstretched arms reached upward to the bluest sky he had ever seen, Isaac could feel the warmth of a powerful light descending upon him.\n\nThe light encircled and caressed Isaac.\n\nHe felt a joy that he had never known before this very moment. And a lifetime of fear and pain was erased from his very being.\n\nEngulfed by the light, he was gently lifted upward.\n\nIsaac knew that he was a free man.\n\n##  Flowers Under the Sun\n\n### One\n\nLooking at the grove of trees from the window of her old bedroom, she smiled as she remembered the day she came home from the hospital. That was so long ago, nearly ten years, but the memories were still fresh. The excitement she had felt; happy to be leaving the hospital and the thrill of going home.\n\nShe could feel herself breathing faster as the thoughts and feelings swirled about her mind. Oh yes! The sensation that she could reach out and grasp that day ran through her. It was right in front of her.\n\nShe could almost feel the bounce of the old Ford pickup as it rounded the bend. In the distance, the outline of the house and the two barns sat against the horizon. The dairy barn was closest to the house and the horse barn sat off to the side near the grove of willows and the pond. She felt warm inside as she watched the herd of cows grazing on the rich, green grass.\n\nFeeling the warmth of the Connecticut sunshine coming through the windshield, she felt both excited and afraid as she looked at her home at the top of the hill. She leaned forward in her seat as she looked to the white oak trees on the hillside, with the leaves turning a golden brown with the onset of fall, and the large pond she considered to be her own special place. She had spent many hours there reading and learning about herself. She smiled as she could feel the pickup getting closer to home.\n\nBut Annie also remembered the hospital. She had been frightened the whole time she had been there. She remembered when her mother had become ill, two years before, and had gone off to the hospital and never came back. Annie expected the same to happen to her and could not understand why her father had made her stay in the place she feared so much. She wanted to get well at home. But at the same time, she knew that her injury was not something that could be taken care of at home. Though in the end, the hospital was not able to do much. The doctors and nurses smiled and told her cute, encouraging things that were supposed to make her feel better. Smiling outwardly, Annie kept her sadness inside.\n\nThe whole time she laid in bed within the confines of the green walls of her hospital room she thought and dreamed of home. Everything would be okay there. In her heart, she knew this to be true. That was the driving force to keep her going during her time of healing. Nothing else mattered. Now her heart raced and pounded as she saw the house off in the distance through the trees. Annie wanted to jump out of the pickup and run for the house and to the people that waited for her. She could see her Uncle Jake and Aunt Melinda. Beside them was, Billy, their three year old son. Behind them stood the area friends that her father worked with and went to church with every Sunday. Annie could feel her heart beating through her chest. She wanted to see them, hold them, take them into her very being.\n\nHer father, Jess, smiled at her as they neared the house. She wondered if he could notice her excitement and apprehension. And she tried to feel his own thoughts and fears that might haunt him about this day. Coming to a stop in front of the house, he wordlessly patted her on the head and got out. Coming around to Annie's door, he exchanged greetings with everyone and opened her door. Annie's uncle had the chair waiting for her as her father lifted her from the pickup seat and gently placed her into it.\n\nUncle Jake, laughing and telling Annie how good she looked, turned the wheelchair toward the house. She saw the newly built wheelchair ramp leading from the front walk to the porch. At that moment in time, she felt crushed and knew that everything would never be all right. Annie felt a weight coming down on her as she realized that her legs would always be lifeless and she would be condemned to live her life in a wheelchair. She would never walk, run, or ride her horse again. Her legs were dead and so was her life. Feeling very much alone, Annie wanted to run away from everyone and everything.\n\n\"Let me go! Just let me go!\" She was yelling at Jake who was stunned and thought he had done something to hurt her. She grabbed the wheels and tried to turn the chair away from the ramp. As she spun the wheels, one got caught in a hole and the chair was turned over spilling Annie to the ground. Jess and Uncle Jake tried to catch the chair but could not reach it in time. Annie hit the ground and began to cry as she felt everyone watching her.\n\nHer father scooped her up from the ground and held her in his arms. He could feel her warm tears against his face as he carried her into the house and to her room. He laid Annie on her bed and wiped the tears from her face. Jess could feel the calluses of his hands rubbing against her soft face as he tried to find the right words.\n\nAnnie turned away from him and hid her face in the pillow.\n\n\"It will be okay.\" Jess was unsure of what to say or what to do. \"Everything will be okay.\"\n\n\"Nothing will be okay. I'll always be stuck in that chair.\" Her crying was slowing down as she looked up at her father. \"I'm nothing but a helpless baby .\"\n\nJess felt desperate. \"No. No. You're not helpless. You just have to adjust. Learn new ways of doing things.\"\n\nShe screamed, \"Like falling out of chairs!\" She put her face into her pillow and sobbed.\n\nPatting her head, \"It will be all right. Give it time.\" Jess stood and walked toward the door, \"I'll check on you later.\" He gently closed the door behind him. Stopping in the hallway, he looked at the door and wanted to cry. The last time he felt like this was when his wife died, but he hid his feelings to help Annie get over the loss of her mother. Now, Anna was hurt and he could do nothing about it. Jess shook his head as he knew he was the one who felt helpless.\n\nHe found his younger brother in the kitchen making coffee. Pulling out a chair from the table, he eased himself behind the table as Jake offered him a cup. \"Thanks. If it wasn't so early in the day I would settle for a beer. But this will do for now. Where is everybody?\"\n\n\"Gone. How is she?\" Jake had been very close to Annie before he married. And even though he now had a son, they still kept a close relationship.\n\nPlacing the coffee cup down, he looked up. \"She still hasn't adjusted to being paralyzed. Annie has always been so active. Now, she feels her life has come to an end.\"\n\n\"She can still be active. It's just a matter of learning her abilities and her limitations.\"\n\n\"I know that Jake. But the trick will be getting Annie to know that. We can't force it on her.\" Jess shook his head. \"We just have to help her. But I'm not sure how. Christ, she's only twelve years old.\"\n\n\"Look, things will work out. The answers will come. The trick for you is to be patient. It may take a week. It may take a month. Or, it could take longer.\" Jake took his brother's hand. \"But however long it does take, let it happen naturally. And slowly.\" He took both cups for a refill. \"The waiting will be the hardest part.\"\n\nJess looked up at the ceiling, as if trying to see Annie, and did not reply.\n\nAnnie stayed in her room the whole day. Jess took her some food which she nibbled at during the day and evening. Occasionally she would cry and sometimes she would lay staring at the ceiling looking into a nothingness.\n\nThat night she slept restlessly and finally made herself get up. Her wheelchair, which she thought of as \"the chair\", was next to the bed. Effortlessly, she slid into it and looked about her room. Three shelves lined with dolls were in front of her. Her small bed was next to her with its lacy bedspread and matching curtains covered the window. Her father had left her room exactly as she had left it. She also noticed her study desk was a mess and decided she would clean the next day.\n\nTurning the wheelchair to the door, she wanted to roam the house. Without thought, Annie approached the door to open it and then realized she could not open it with the chair in the way. Backing up, she reached forward and turned the doorknob with her outstretched hand. The door hinges squeaked as Annie swung it open and she wondered if her father had woken up from the sound.\n\nWith her old, natural humor, she thought, \"Oh well, I've been grounded before.\" Annie wheeled herself out of her room.\n\nThe walls of the hallway were lined with family pictures which always made Annie think of Norman Rockwell. She liked looking at herself and her parents from their life together. She stopped at one which showed her mother and herself sitting by the pond. Annie had been five at the time and found a fascination in the ducks. She loved throwing bread at them and would scream with delight when they swam toward her.\n\nHer hand touched the glass cover of the frame as she silently cried for her mother. With a whisper, she called out for her. The tears felt warm on her face as she searched the other pictures. As she came to the end of the hall, she looked around at the den. She sensed a feeling of homesickness as she scanned over the plump sofa and other furniture. Visions of cooking marshmallows in the fireplace surged into her mind. Laughter filled her thoughts as she remembered throwing popcorn at her father as they watched a movie on the TV. Annie sat in silence and let these memories come into her.\n\nBlinking her eyes several times, Annie looked out the den window to the pond. The water reflected the glow of the moon which hung over the willows and surrounding bushes. She felt drawn toward the water as if it were a safe haven. She decided she wanted to visit the pond. Approaching the back door from an angle, Annie opened it slowly to avoid any noise and moved herself onto the back porch. Peering down the dark ramp, she was unsure if she could make it down without losing control of her chair.\n\nAnnie had to giggle at the thought of rolling wildly down the ramp in the middle of the night. The ramp was about ten feet long which made it less steep, but in the dark it appeared to go forever. Giggling again, she whispering to herself, \"Boy, Dad would kill me for sure if I messed this up.\"\n\nSlowly, Annie neared the ramp and edged herself forward. Grasping the wheels firmly, she eased the chair down the ramp without mishap. At the bottom, she turned her head and looked back at the ramp. \"I'll have it mastered in one day.\" Annie shook her head in defiance.\n\nThe pond was fifty yards from the house and Annie pointed herself toward the trees and with great effort wheeled herself toward it. After a few minutes, she arrived at the edge of the grove. She felt tired from the work of wheeling the chair over the rough ground - not as easy as the smooth tile floors at the hospital - but at the same time she felt satisfied in the accomplishment. Annie rolled her arms to ease to pain from the hard work.\n\nShe inspected the grove which circled halfway around the pond. It was too dark inside the grove to see anything so she made her way to the edge the pond. As she watched the water, she thought that the moonlight almost laid on the water like a blanket. It gave her a feeling of warmth against the night's chill.\n\nAnnie felt entranced by the water. She began to relax and allowed herself to be taken into the pond's peacefulness. Her emotions were soothed and her mind followed the ripples of the water into a serene sleep.\n\nAs her body surrendered to the tranquility, her mind and spirit were set free and Annie found herself riding her horse - Thunder. The large, black gelding was running smoothly through a field of tall grass which climbed up and down with the hills. Annie held Thunder's long mane and her legs held her in place as she rode bareback. She cried with laughter and shook her head in the wind. And, they charged forth.\n\nThe sun made a perfect picture against the blue sky. Annie could smell the fragrance of the wild flowers that were scattered in with the grass. Thunder charged forth over one hill and to the next without slowing. As the grass parted to let them onward and each hill rolled behind, Annie could see a tree line off in the distance. It ran parallel with their path and far into the distance Annie could see the trees slowly cut a path in front of them.\n\nThey ran for miles, but Thunder kept his pace and never tired. Nearing the trees, the sun warming Annie's face, she peered toward the trees which were still off in the horizon. Annie could hear her name being called. It was distant and almost echoed. The voice, still far away, called again. As Thunder came to the top of the last hill he stopped and his nostrils flared. Angrily he stepped backwards and stomped a hoof. He shook his head angrily and stepped back further.\n\nAnnie heard her name again and looking to the tree line she saw what Thunder had spotted. Blinking several times, her eyes focused on an empty wheelchair sitting at the edge of the trees. Almost patiently, the chair waited for her. She felt confused as a hand gently shook her shoulder.\n\n\"Annie. Annie. Hey kid, you gonna get a crick in your neck sleeping like this.\" Uncle Jake smiled down at her.\n\nYawning, she rubbed her neck. \"Well, I can't argue with you about that.\" Smiling, she padded his hand. \"But, a good hot bath will take care of my neck.\"\n\nJake squatted down beside her. \"Well tell me, how did ya manage to get all the way out here?\"\n\nShe imitated her uncle, \"Well, I'll tell ya. It wasn't easy. That there grass is pretty thick and makes coming' an' goin' pretty hard.\" Annie giggled and reached to give Jake a hug.\n\nHe returned Annie's affection and stood up. \"How about I give you a hand back. We got breakfast cooking. No reason to miss it.\"\n\n\"I am hungry. Let's go.\" She turned the chair around for him. \"Jake, I want to say I'm sorry about screaming at you yesterday. It wasn't your fault.\"\n\nPushing the wheelchair, he smiled down at her. \"Don't worry about it. Yesterday was tough for you. No reason to say you're sorry.\" As they neared the house, they were both silent. Annie could feel a heaviness coming over her. The dream of riding Thunder was fading from her and she began to feel empty.\n\nJake pushed her up the ramp and helped her into the house. Jess had the table set and was waiting on them. \"Well, the mid-night wanderer returns.\" He smiled at them.\n\nAnnie shook a finger at him. \"I'll have you know that I was in my bed at mid-night.\"\n\n\"Okay, You left your room at one-thirty to be precise.\" He tried to act stern.\n\n\"Oh, you were awake?\" Annie made a face at Jake.\n\n\"No. I was asleep. Your squeaky door woke me up.\" He looked at his brother and winked. \"So, you were bored or what?\"\n\n\"Well...,\" she paused for effect. \"I would say I missed the place and wanted to get reacquainted with my surroundings.\"\n\n\"That's a good excuse. Did you come up with that last night or just now?\" He laughed and started to eat.\n\nThrowing a biscuit at her father she laughed with him.\n\nAnnie ate a full meal but became silent. Jess and her uncle let her have her space and did not push her into conversation. When she was finished , she excused herself from the table and went to her room. As with the day before, Annie stayed in her room and even forgot about the bath she had wanted.\n\nWith the passing of time, Annie got into a daily routine and her father hired a teacher to come to the house and tutor her. He also assigned her chores which she learned to do from the chair with ease. But Annie remained distant and quiet going through the days unable to feel or care.\n\nThough she never went back to the grove that fall, she frequently sat at her window and looked out over the water and trees. This solitude concerned her father, but it did give Annie an inner comfort. And as she felt the shadows of the seasons pass through her room, Annie wondered if her life had anything to offer her.\n\nWatching the seasons go by from her window, she completed her daily routines without feeling or thought. She had her days of cheerfulness, she occasionally argued with her father, and she had the outward appearance of being content. But Annie always remained emotionally detached from everything. Her sense of caring and joy were lost.\n\n## TWO\n\nWith the coming of spring, Annie became restless and missed the solitude of the pond and trees. In the early hours of a warm morning, she made her way back to the grove and sat by the pond.\n\nSitting in the shade, a cool breeze came over the pond to cool her face. Her eyes followed the ducks across the water as she tilted her head to allow her hair to blow back. A feeling of comfort washed over her as she began to relax and her troubles were washed from her mind.\n\n\"Why do you look so sad?\" A question coming from behind her.\n\nAnnie was startled by the familiar voice. One which had been gone for such a long time. She quickly turned in her chair to look behind her. Feeling an ecstatic apprehension of joy and hope.\n\n\"Mama!\" Calling out to find no one near. Feeling confused, knowing she heard the voice, she peered into the trees. Searching but seeing no one.\n\n\"Why do you look so sad?\" Again she jumped at the sound. Spinning the wheelchair about, she rolled to the edge of the grove. Leaning forward as if trying to reach out to the voice. Not only the voice, but also the emotional security it offered.\n\n\"Mama! Where are you?\" Pleading. \"Please let me see you!\" A tear rolled from the corner of one eye. Her hands quivered as they grasped the armrests of her chair. Her fingers white with the tension of holding on. Remembering her mother's touch, her smell, the warmth she had given her. She wanted so much to see her. Hold her and be held.\n\n\"I am not your mother,\" the voice stated matter-of-factly. \"Why do you look so sad?\"\n\nAnnie realized the voice was very much like her mother's, but also quicker and more precise. At that moment, she saw a small bird resting under a bush. The bird appeared to be studying her. Jumping out from under the bush, he cocked his head to one side, \"Now you look puzzled. Can you not make up your mind how you want to feel?\"\n\nShe rolled her chair backwards and stared at the bird. Annie spoke quietly, \"You're a bird.\"\n\n\"You are very astute. But, actually, I am a robin.\" He balanced himself easily on one leg.\n\n\"I know you are a robin,\" Annie replied almost impatiently. \"What I mean is that birds cannot speak.\"\n\n\"If I cannot speak, then why are we conversing?\" His two small eyes were blinking as he made his reply.\n\nAnnie studied the bird with its small colorful body. Suddenly she was laughing and felt an intense happiness. She moved her chair closer to the bird. \"So how can you speak?\"\n\nHopping up onto the arm of the chair, the bird replied, \"That I do not know. But, if it is God's will, is it not possible?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Annie smiled at him. \"It's just not everyday that you meet a talking bird.\"\n\n\"Does that bother you.\"\n\n\"Oh no! I think that's terrific. Have you always been able to talk.\" Annie gingerly petted the robin's feathers.\n\n\"I have always been able to speak to other birds. Have you always been able to speak?\"\n\nLaughing again, \"Of course.\"\n\n\"To birds?\" He cocked his head to one side and watched her.\n\n\"Well, no. I must say that you are the first bird that I have ever talked with. Are there other birds that can talk?'\n\n\"I speak with other animals all the time.\" He jumped from the armrest to her knee. \"It has been a long time since you have come out here to sit by the water. Why?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" She looked away from the bird. \"I used to come out here all the time.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"But, it reminds me of my mother and being able to walk and run.\"\n\n\"You thought I was your mother when I first spoke to you. Why?\"\n\nAnnie petted the bird again. \"Your voice sounds a little like hers.\"\n\n\"I see.\" He hopped down to the ground to look for bugs. \"Why don't you look as happy as you used to look?\"\n\n\"I guess I cannot get used to living in this chair. Every day I wake up thinking how great it would be to do the things I used to do. I miss going to school and seeing my friends. Playing. Just doing things.\" Annie moved her chair closer to the water's edge.\n\n\"Why don't you go to school with your friends?\"\n\n\"My father didn't want to make it hard on me. He hired a tutor to come out here three times a week to teach me. He says next year I'll will go back to school.\"\n\n\"I think your father made a wise decision. There is no reason to rush things. It can be difficult to learn new ways of doing things.\"\n\nSighing and then putting on a big smile, Annie looked at the bird. \"Tell me about you.\"\n\nFor the rest of the morning, they talked and learned about each other. Annie had made a new friend, and when her father hollered her name from the porch she reluctantly left the bird.\n\n## THREE\n\nAnnie followed her father outside where they sat under a tree and watched Jake work with one of the horses. He was the one who had given her an interest in riding. Jake had a natural style with horses and loved to train them. His easy manner had rubbed off on Annie.\n\nJess looked at Annie. \"You're deep in thought. Care to share them?\"\n\nSmiling, she nodded her head. \"I just miss the horses. Sometimes I want to get on Thunder and ride into the forest.\"\n\nHer father stood up and waved toward his brother. \"Well I don't see why we can't accommodate you.\"\n\nJake reined the horse out of the coral and trotted toward them. A bee buzzed by the horse's head causing her to rear up on its hind legs. Jake calmly leaned forward and gently patted her neck. The horse relaxed and set her front legs down.\n\nAnnie was giggling as Jake trotted up to them. Dismounting, Jake smiled broadly. \"You been teachin' my filly to act up?\"\n\nLaughing, \"No. She learned it all on her own. Besides, it good for you.\"\n\nHer uncle took his hat off and scratched his head. \"Well girl, how do ya figure that?\"\n\nMoving her chair toward Jake, she slapped his chest. \"Keeps you on your toes.\"\n\n\"Jess, this girl is gettin' a little sassy. What do you think?\"\n\n\"Your right. I think she needs to ride it off. Wanna help?\"\n\nAnnie looked at the two adults and shook her head. \"Oh no! I'll fall off. Or do you have a seat belt rigged up? Knowing you two, I can see you doing something like that.\"\n\nJess looked at his brother. \"Hey, that's a thought. Actually, Annie, we'll do something easier.\"\n\nJake turned to the horse and patted her left leg and whistled. The horse slowly lowered herself to the ground. He petted her between the ears and looked at Annie. \"Let's go.\"\n\nStill shaking her head, \"How I am supposed to get on the horse? Or stay on?\"\n\nJess picked her up and placed her on the saddle. Jake gave her the reins and then got on behind her. Scooting in close to Annie, he put an arm around her. He slapped the filly's rump with a hand and the horse reluctantly stood up.\n\nAnnie felt unsure of herself, but she was also excited. \"How am I going to keep from falling off?\"\n\n\"I've got ya. Would I let you fall off?\"\n\n\"Well, who's got the horse?\" Annie was feeling excited.\n\n\"Girl, you got the reins. You haven't forgotten how to rein a horse have you?\"\n\nShe put an elbow into his side. \"No! But where to?\"\n\nJake gestured forward with his free hand. \"It's your show girl. Take off.\"\n\nShe pointed the horse to the right of the trees and Jake slapped the filly's rump with his hand. With that the horse was running at an easy lope and Annie was laughing and yelling with delight.\n\nJake was pleased at Annie's reaction to being back on a horse. He had been afraid that she would be scared and refuse to get on the filly. \"By gosh girl! You act like you never rode a horse before.\"\n\n\"Oh Jake, this is great. I feel free. I feel like I could go on forever and never stop.\" Annie felt ecstatic.\n\n\"Well, before you go on forever, let me get off. I'll be gettin' hungry come lunch time.\"\n\nAnnie elbowed her uncle again. \"Let's go faster!\"\n\nWith a light kick from Jake, the filly was at a full gallop and Annie had an arm in the air and yelling, \"Charge!\"\n\nWhen they got around to the opposite side of the pond, Annie slowed the horse down to a walk too allow it to rest. \"This is great Jake. Thank you.\"\n\n\"Thank the filly. She's doing all the work.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" She leaned over and hugged the horse's neck.\n\nThey continued to ride for the rest of the morning and returned home. Annie was exhausted, but happy. She ate lunch and took a nap. That afternoon, she decided to visit the pond.\n\nShe sat by the water hoping that the robin would show up. She wanted to talk to him again. Annie had come to like the bird in their first meeting and wanted to continue the friendship.\n\nAfter a few minutes, the robin came out from behind a small tree. He hopped over to Annie. \"How are you?\"\n\n\"I am great. How are you?\" She smiled down at the bird.\n\n\"I am fine. Thank you for asking.\" He blinked his eyes and jumped up to her knee.\n\n\"I was wondering if you would talk to me again. I was afraid you would not come back.\"\n\n\"When you came up, I was eating a worm. I did not think you would want to watch me eat it. It gets a bit messy.\" He hopped to the other knee and watched her.\n\nAnnie made a face and stuck her tongue out. \"Yuck. I can pass on watching you eat worms.\"\n\n\"I saw you on the horse.\"\n\n\"Oh, that was wonderful! I thought I would never ride a horse again.\" Annie smiled widely.\n\nHis eyes gleamed. \"You did look happy.\" He looked curiously at Annie. \"Why do you not tend the flowers? You used to but no more.\"\n\nAnnie was surprised by the question and took a few seconds to answer. \"They can live without my help.\" She looked away from her friend. \"They're flowers. They don't need me.\"\n\n\"There is something else?\" He shifted legs.\n\nGlancing at the robin, she smiled half-heartedly. \"My father asked me the same thing.\"\n\n\"What did you tell him?\"\n\n\"I was not very nice to him. I said some things I really didn't mean.\" She felt slightly embarrassed.\n\n\"Why?\" He tilted his head to one side.\n\n\"I was mad.\" Annie moved the chair closer to the bird. \"Not at him.\"\n\n\"What were you mad at?\"\n\n\"Nothing. Everything.\" She shook her head. \"I was angry because of my injury. There's no one to blame for the accident. It just happened. It wasn't the first time I had fallen off a horse. But, I just wanted to be mad. If I couldn't have what I wanted then I didn't want anything.\"\n\nThe robin gently flapped his wings and placed himself on Annie's knee. \"Are you still mad?\"\n\n\"Yes. But, not like then. It's difficult to put into words. I feel like I've been cheated. Like I was robbed.\"\n\n\"The flowers? You said they did not need you.\"\n\nShe looked quickly toward the flower garden. \"No, they're just plants.\" Annie wanted to cry. \"Give them some water and sunshine and they'll last forever.\"\n\nLooking for bugs, he dropped down to the grass. \"But you thought differently before?\"\n\n\"What?\" She looked at him curiously.\n\n\"You did not always think that way. Your feelings changed after the accident.\" He peered into the grass.\n\nShe felt confused by the statement. She knew he was right. \"Why do you say that?\"\n\n\"Because it's true.\" The robin's beak snatched up a bug and he gobbled it down with satisfaction. \"Before the accident, you worked in the flower bed everyday. You watered them, kept the weeds out, cared for the weak ones. You nurtured them.\" He quickly turned and struck another bug.\n\n\"I used to love working in the flower bed. I had a passion for the flowers. Especially the roses. I thought they could not live without my attention. I kinda thought I was their mother. Their guardian.\" Annie looked down at the bird. \"How did you know I spent so much time with them?\"\n\n\"I watched you. You cared for them everyday. You even talked to them.\" He looked up at her as tears gently flowed from her eyes. He looked puzzled as his head tilted to one side. \"Did they talk to you?\"\n\nShe wiped the tears away with her hand and allowed herself a smile. \"No.\" She paused. \"Well, yes. Not like you and I are talking. But they talked to me on the inside. They made me happy. Does that make sense?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes. But can you not still talk to them?\" He paused for a moment. \"Can they not still talk to you?\n\n\"I don't think I could hear them?\"\n\n\"Do you not hear your father? Or me?\"\n\nHer smile broadened. \"That's different.\"\n\n\"It's only different if you want it to be. The roses will talk if you listen.\" He flew back to Annie's knee. \"They may exist and survive without you. But with you, they bloom to their fullest. And as they need you, so you need them. As you help them to bloom, they will help you to bloom.\" He hopped to the other knee. \"Everyone wants to be needed. As well, everyone wants to have something to need.\"\n\nAnnie looked to the sky but did not say anything.\n\nJumping about, the robin asked, \"So, why are you still mad?\"\n\nA slight grin appeared on her face. \"Did anyone ever tell you that you have a habit of changing the subject?\"\n\n\"No.\" He tilted his head to one side and blinked his eyes. \"Why do you stay angry?\"\n\nThe grin left her as she became serious. \"I cannot understand why God would do this to me.\"\n\n\"Do what?\"\n\n\"Make me paralyzed.\" She could not look at the bird as she spoke.\n\nHe hopped up to her knee. \"God did not make you paralyzed. You merely fell off your horse.\"\n\n\"But, He could have prevented it. He could have kept me safe.\"\n\n\"Sometimes it is not his way to intervene.\" The robin looked at her with compassion. \"As a small child learning to walk, did not your parents allow you to fall?\"\n\nShe spoke slowly, \"Well, yes. But when learning to walk, you are going to fall. It's just part of the process.\"\n\nThe robin's face seemed to smile. \"Exactly! In order to grow, you have to fall sometimes. On the other hand, sometimes it is His will for you to fall.\"\n\nAnnie looked at him.\n\n\"Maybe it is within his plans that you fell.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"That I do not know.\" He flapped his wings and hopped to her shoulder. \"But, consider the rose. Sometimes to admire the beauty of the flower, you have to get past the thorns. They can be painful, but the beauty is well worth it.\" The robin's voice was very serene. \"Such is Christ. The road can be narrow and difficult at times, but His love is well worth the effort. Just do not allow your anger to let you stray from His path.\"\n\n\"Sometimes it's difficult.\"\n\n\"Yes it is. But all you have to do is ask for His help. He will always hold your hand. All you have to do is ask.\"\n\nAnnie remained quite for a while and thought about what the robin had said. She knew she missed working in the flower bed, but she also knew that she could not crawl around on her knees to tend the flowers. \"How am I supposed to take care of the flowers when I'm stuck in this chair?\"\n\nHe studied her face. \"How do you get out of bed every day? How do you get out here to the pond?\"\n\n\"I just do it.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n### FOUR\n\nLater in the week, Annie was completing a homework assignment and she heard her father's pickup pull up along side the house. He had been gone all morning, but had not told her what he would be doing that day. Usually he spent all day working with the dairy cows. But today he changed his routine.\n\nShe wheeled herself outside and found a large trailer behind the pickup. The trailer was full a dirt and three huge wooden boxes. They were all ten feet long. And to Annie, they looked like giant caskets. Her father was getting out of the cab. With him were two of his hired hands.\n\n\"Hi Daddy. Where've you been?\"\n\nJess leaned over and gave Annie a hug. \"Been out stirring up trouble.\"\n\nShe slapped his side. \"Oh Daddy!\" Annie pointed at the trailer. \"You going into the coffin business?\"\n\nJess laughed at her joke. \"No little girl. Those are flower boxes. I figured you might be missin' gettin' dirty with the flowers.\"\n\nAnnie cried out with delight and hugged him again. \"Oh thank you. Thank you! How did you know I wanted to plant some flowers?\"\n\n\"I was laying in bed the other morning listening to the birds sing and it just came to me.\" He patted her head. \"So, I had these boxes built and got some dirt.\" He looked at the boxes and grinned. \"But, I'll tell you, those boxes are mighty heavy. We'll most likely break our backs getting them out of the trailer.\"\n\n\"You'll survive.\" She patted his side. \"And, if your back hurts afterwards, I'll massage your back by rolling my chair over you.\"\n\nThey both laughed. \"I'll get back to you on the back message.\" He winked at her as he turned to help his workers.\n\nAnnie was thrilled as she watched the men place the boxes along the side of the house. After they finished filling them up with dirt, she found that they were just the right height for her to work in from her chair.\n\nJess had also bought some roses which Annie planted that afternoon. She spent the day digging in the dirt, placing the flowers carefully in the soil, and watering them. She decided she would have to sew herself an apron to carry her garden tools.\n\nLate that evening, Annie came into the house. Jess looked at her and laughed.\n\n\"What?\" Annie was laughing to.\n\n\"Little girl, you need to look in a mirror. You're covered top to bottom with dirt. Did you leave any dirt in the boxes?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" She acted mad. \"You want to give me a hug?\" She was smiling at him.\n\n\"We'll talk hugs after you've had a bath.\" He was backing away from her.\n\nAnd as this day ended, a new day was born for Annie. She found a renewed joy in the flowers. She spent that spring working in the flower boxes and visiting with the robin. Annie found peace and contentment within herself. The emotional scars were healing as Annie found herself again.\n\n## FIVE\n\nShe found the robin sitting by the water eating a bug. They had become good friends over the past few months and she had learned many things about herself from the bird. She hoped that he would never go away. But, now she was the one that was leaving - if only for a short time.\n\n\"You seem to have something on your mind. Are you troubled?\" The robin gobbled down the bug and hopped up to her chair.\n\n\"I am leaving for a few weeks.\" She petted him. \"I'm just afraid that you won't be here when I return.\n\nHe turned his head to one side as if contemplating the remark. \"I do not see why I would not be here. Do you?\"\n\nAnnie laughed at the bird. \"No. It's just a silly girl thing I guess.\" She held out her hand arm and the robin jumped to it. Annie held the bird in front of her face. Smiling, \"It's just a fear of the unknown.\"\n\nBlinking his eyes, \"Ah. But, you have been to the unknown and you are still here. Aren't you?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\" Annie looked to the water.\n\n\"So, where are you off to?\"\n\n\"My aunt's house. She lives up in Maine. I have not seen her since before my accident.\"\n\n\"It will be good for you to see her again. How long will you be gone?\"\n\n\"About three to four weeks.\" Annie sighed. \"Then I have to come back and get ready for school.\"\n\nThe robin watched Annie. \"I thought you were happy to go back to school with your friends?\"\n\n\"I am. But kids aren't supposed to act happy about going back to school.\" She smiled at him.\n\n\"Is that one of those girl things?\"\n\nLaughing, \"Yes. Something like that.\"\n\nAs they said their good-byes for the summer, Annie forgot about the wheelchair. She felt the freedom of the wind blowing through her hair. For that brief time, she was simply a young girl again.\n\n## SIX\n\nPeering out from her old bedroom window at the grove of trees she smiled. A ray of sunshine coming from over the treetops warmed her face. Annie felt content as she thought back over the years.\n\nThere had been a brief time in her adulthood that she doubted the robin. Though in her mind, she could always hear his voice in the distance. The robin had led her from the shadows of agony and into the light. Yes, in her heart she could still hear the voice and see the emotions in the eyes of her friend.\n\nShe placed her hand on the window and felt the warmth of the sun on the pane. Annie looked to the grove, and as if whispering to her, she could hear the roses talking to her heart and smell them surrounding her very being.\n\nShe smiled as she backed away from the window and wheeled herself down the hallway.\n\nShe left the grove of trees behind as the car made its way along the road. Hidden from view in the grove, under a low bush, a robin sat and watched her leave. As the car drove away, the robin stood on one leg and a twinkle came from his eyes.\n\n##  The Old Man in the Clouds\n\nWith a cherry wood box resting under his left arm, Trever strolled into the garden and stopped. Looking around him, he slowly let his eyes pass over the many flowers and plants that were the pride of his father. This place - this botanical haven of his childhood - always drew him in times of trouble and deep thought. Smiling, Trever made his way to the marble bench and sat down. Setting the box beside him, he closed his eyes and allowed the sweet aroma of the flowers to fill his head.\n\nHis father had built the garden before Trever was born and had taught him the joy of working with plants and watching them grow. The garden had been constructed in a circular pattern with a stone path leading from the house. The path led into the center of the garden, which was also laid with stone and highlighted with a marble fountain in the middle. Surrounding it was a marble bench. The various plants and flowers were scattered about with life size roman statues facing inward from the perimeter. Trever remembered that as a small child, he always expected the statues to come to life and talk to him.\n\nHe opened his eyes and looked to the box resting beside him, which had been a gift from Alexander Hamilton on his twenty-first birthday. He patted the top of the box as he admired the silhouette of Mr. Hamilton on the lid. This gift was a valued treasure for Trever and he kept it well taken care of.\n\nLooking into the pool of water in the fountain, Trever tried to look into the reflection of his eyes. He wondered what was beyond the windows to his soul, but the reflection gave no hint for him. Running a hand through the water, he watched Oliver, his life long servant and confidant, walking down the stone path.\n\nSmiling, \"Good morning Oliver.\"\n\n\"Good morning to you Mr. Trever. How are you feeling today?\" He nodded his head toward his charge.\n\n\"I am wonderful!\" He stood up and placed his hands on Oliver's shoulders. \"I feel great.\"\n\n\"You have not been feeling ill?\"\n\n\"No, not in two or three days. Isn't that marvelous?\"\n\n\"Indeed it is sir.\" He allowed himself to smile back at Trever. \"Is there anything I can get for you?\"\n\nDramatically stepping away from Oliver, he pointed out a section of roses. \"Aren't these beautiful!\"\n\nOliver was pleased with Trever's enthusiasm, which was a pleasant change from the past. He had been greatly concerned about him, but now thought that everything would be all right again. He was happy to see Trever's change of health over the last few weeks. \"Yes sir, the roses are perfect.\"\n\nTurning back to Oliver, \"Actually I would like to write a letter to Father and Mother. Would you bring my portable desk?\"\n\n\"I would be happy to. I'll be right back\" He turned and left Trever admiring the flowers.\n\nWandering among the flowers, he remembered the times as a child of playing hide-and-seek with Oliver here in the maze of plants and statues. He always won the games, but even as a child he knew that Oliver would let him win. Happy and feeling carefree, he allowed himself to be carried away by the memories.\n\nAfter a few minutes, Oliver was back with his portable desk. \"Will there be anything else, sir?\"\n\n\"No. No thank you.\" He took the portable desk from Oliver and returned to the bench. \"Oliver I want you to know that I have always considered you my best friend. You have always been here for me.\" He smiled up to Oliver.\n\n\"Thank you sir.\"\n\n\"I just wanted to say that.\" He cocked his head to one side. \"I had been thinking back to the times as a child. Very fond memories. You helped make them so. I will never forget the things you have done for me.\"\n\nOliver was flattered with the compliment and appreciated Trever's intensity and dramatic display of affection, which had been a characteristic of his since childhood. \"Thank you, sir.\" He turned to leave, \"I will check on you later, sir.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Trever turned his attention to the desk.\n\nThe portable desk was a box two feet long and one foot wide. It was three inches deep and had a slanted top to accommodate writing. Trever raised the lid to reveal the inner contents. He removed his writing paper, a quill, a small jar of ink, and a small piece of paper for removing the excess ink from the paper.\n\nSetting everything neatly to one side, he realized it was almost time to leave. Trever closed the lid and placed a sheet of paper on the desk. He began a habitual process of dipping the quill into the ink, writing, and dabbing the excess ink from the paper. Doing so without thought, he wrote the letter to his parents.\n\nDear Mother and Father,\n\nI hope this letter finds you both well. I hear that London has been having good weather this time of year, though the last news papers we received were two weeks late. Apparently the cargo ship had run into rough weather and had to take an alternate route.\n\nI have been fine. The headaches I told you about in the last letter had gotten much worse, but the doctor gave me a bottle of medicine. It has an atrocious taste, though after a while it is bearable to swallow. It does help relieve the pain and I have learned to appreciate its effects. Oliver makes sure that I take my daily doses - I do not know what I would do without him.\n\nI had lunch with Mr. Jefferson last week and he sends his best wishes to you both. He seems to have grown older since becoming president, but he still attacks his job with the same vigor. He is very excited about the purchase of the western territories from the French. Though he told me that the British were extremely upset over the acquisition. He feels there may be some trouble with them over this in the future.\n\nHave you heard any rumors from your side of the ocean about Pres. Jefferson's business with the French? I would be curious as to what they might be.\n\nI do hate to make this a short letter, but I have an appointment I must make. I met a new friend about a week ago and he has been asking me to come visit him. So, today I will be off to call on him. I think he will be terribly happy to see me.\n\nAs I said, I only met him last week. I had been riding in the carriage from town when I happened to look up and admire the clouds. There had been a tremendous storm brewing that afternoon and my head had been hurting quite severely. I even had to take a double dose of the medicine, which I have been having to do frequently. But please don't say anything to Oliver about this - he would not be pleased.\n\nBut, as I was looking upward, I happened to notice that in the mist of one particularly large cloud was sitting an old man. I could not see him very well for he was hidden in the depths of the cumulus vapors. I simply stared at him in wonderment and within a few minutes he looked right at me and asked how I was feeling.\n\nEver since then, we have spoken nearly every day. Even on the sunny days, he has managed to find his way to me. I have looked forward to his visits and our conversations. He has a very soothing voice and it helps relax me.\n\nI know that if you were ever to meet him, you would find him intriguing and his company enjoyable.\n\nWell, I must be off. I will try to write again soon.\n\nYour loving son,\n\nTrever L. Bishop\n\nTrever laid the quill next to the ink well and neatly folded the letter. Looking at it, he felt a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction. He placed the portable desk next to him on the bench with the letter inside it. Looking around at the garden, distant memories of his boyhood and happiness rushed through him.\n\nTurning to the cherry wood box, he picked it up and placed it on his lap. Opening the lid, he stared at the gun inside. He had prepared it with a ball and powder earlier in the morning before coming to the garden. Removing it from the box, Trever felt himself relax.\n\nWithout thought or hesitation, he gently placed the muzzle against his temple. Trever slowly inhaled as he looked up to the sky. He saw that storm clouds were moving in to cover the sun as a shadow fell over the garden.\n\nHe pulled the hammer back and closed his eyes.\n\nSighing, he tightened his grip on the gun. With little effort, Trever gently applied pressure to the trigger as he heard his name being called from the clouds above. Suddenly he took a quick, deep breath and pulled the trigger.\n\nThe explosion of the gunpowder echoed through the garden and his body fell to the floor. With a last, fleeting image as the bullet tore through his head, Trever's mind caught a glimpse of the old man. As if looking through fog, he was barely visible and difficult to see.\n\nThe old man, hiding in the folds of the clouds, was looking down into the garden. He was stooped over and had long, thin white hair. Two cold eyes, sitting over a hooked nose, were staring eagerly in anticipation at Trever's final actions.\n\nThe old man smiled and nodded his head in encouragement.\n\nThe image faded as Trever died.\n\n###\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n## Nymphania Book 1\n\n## A Brave New World\n\nPublished by Smashwords\n\nCopyright 2014 All rights reserved.\n\n**Smashwords Edition, License Notes**\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n# Chapter One\n\nLeanne always daydreamed like a schoolgirl in a maths class. This Monday morning was no exception. The sun sliced through Leanne's blinds and warmed the bleak expression on her face.\n\nThe familiar chime sound disrupted her dream. She opened her eyes begrudgingly. On the screen of her laptop was yet another message, but this time it was from a new sender. Harry Wendel, 28 years old and looking for romance.\n\nHi Leanne,\n\nJust spotted you on here and wanted to introduce myself.\n\nCan we chat sometime? I'm free in the evenings from 7 - 10pm if you fancy it.\n\nThanks and take care.\n\nHarry.\n\nLeanne groaned when she saw his picture. He was balding and clearly overweight, not her type, just like every other guy who had been in touch so far. She had standards, not that her standards were high. Overweight men just didn't do anything for her.\n\nMaybe she had been too spoilt in her last relationship, she thought as she closed the message and scanned her inbox. There were several other new messages waiting to be read. She contemplated reading them but then quickly decided against it, she had wasted enough time already. Did she even want another relationship or was she simply on the rebound? Shaking her head, she leaned back in her chair, the hinges squeaking, causing her to wince in annoyance.\n\nLeanne sighed again, of all the days why was she feeling like this today? Today would be the end result of three years of hard work. Cradling the warm mug of herbal tea in her hands, she breathed in the potent, fresh scent and smiled for a moment, enjoying the memories it stirred.\n\nChina was her mother's country but Leanne still held it close to her heart. The scent of the Chinese herbs contained within the tea she drank three times daily always brought back those jasmine scented memories. It was a much-needed comfort to her as she took little sips and closed her eyes.\n\nShe remembered visiting Beijing as a little girl and being shocked at how crammed full of people the streets and roads were. She had cried at first, not used to such confined spaces, amidst the heaving masses seemingly content with never having more than a foot of breathing space to call their own.\n\nEven at the fragile age of just 7 years old she was beginning to show the character traits her mother possessed in abundance and the tears hadn't lasted. Those four weeks immersed in the heaving metropolis of Beijing had squeezed out the childish weakness and replaced it with an inner strength borne both out of necessity and her mother's genes. Her mother had not just 'moved' to America, she had fled, fully pregnant with Leanne. She sipped the tea, savoring its bitter yet flavorsome quality.\n\nShe was glad that her mother had been forced to give birth to her in America and in awe of her mother's 'never-say-die' attitude when it came to giving Leanne a chance at life. China's one-child policy had dictated her future.\n\nThe phone began to ring. The electronic purr bringing her out of her thought playground momentarily. She glanced at the caller I.D and saw it was Mike and decided to ignore it. She would have to speak to him soon enough at work. Today was a big day at DreamReal Corp and she was one of the star players on the team, responsible for developing the characters, their behavior, emotions and human-like qualities.\n\nDreamReal Corp's latest gaming platform was about to be unleashed upon the world, that's if it made it through this final set of testing. Virtual reality meets Second Life that was what Professor Blake had called it.\n\nYes, in part, it was just that, but this was far more ambitious and Leanne had put thousands of hours of blood, sweat and tears into the project. Not only would people play as a character in the world, they would 'be' the character in a realistic dreamlike environment. Fully plugged into the system and integrated in such a way as to be no longer aware of the 'real' world.\n\nLeanne placed her mug on the DreamReal coaster that sat by her keyboard, exactly 10 inches to the left of it, everything was precision-like with Leanne \\- everything. It had to be, if her mother had taught her one thing, it was that the Chinese were extremely hard working, clinical, thorough and relentless in their pursuit of progress.\n\nShe was to be part of the next generation - the generation of American-Asians that were showing their true grit especially where technology was concerned. Leanne was no exception and constantly strived to perfect herself in every way, even her body was a well honed and oiled piece of machinery that was every bit a temple to her.\n\nLooking at her watch, she saw that it was almost 8am, time to log off and get to work.\n\nLeanne ignored the bleeping of another message and proceeded to sign out, before logging off her computer. To hell with the dating sites anyway! Who was she kidding? Did she really think a stranger with whom she had nothing in common would really add to her life in any way? No, she knew it was pointless, but still.\n\nShe gulped down the last of the tea, pushed herself off the huge leather recliner and headed for the kitchen. She sighed as she walked; the vestiges of her breakup with Mike still very much lingering at the forefront of her consciousness.\n\nDammit, get outta my head!\n\nShe washed the mug, dried it and placed it upon its own hook hanging over the breakfast bar with all the others. Nothing was out of place in her home. 'A cluttered home is a cluttered mind,' that was her motto. One of many...\n\nWalking to the mirror in the hallway for one last check, she looked at herself just a little longer than usual. Her long ebony black hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail that actually accentuated her long elegantly curved neck. She adjusted her crisp white blouse and black knee-length skirt as she always did, but this morning her gaze lingered on her face.\n\nFor someone on the threshold of thirty, Leanne had a pretty decent complexion with very few lines, however this morning, her forehead was worryingly creased and Leanne shook her head at the irony. Here she was worrying about worry lines, but it wasn't the lines themselves that bothered her, it was the reason behind them - the cause.\n\nShrugging, she turned away from the mirror, gathered up her keys and kissed the picture of her mother she had placed on a little ornate table beside the front door not long after her death two years earlier. Whenever she left home and returned, she kissed the picture and remembered her, as she had been. The mother of Leanne's youth, robust and steadfast, unremitting in the face of adversity. So much so that nothing kept her from having and raising Leanne to be the next torchbearer for the Li family.\n\nThe front door clicked firmly shut as she hopped down the three steps that lead up to her model 3 bed semi-detached house. All the houses here were neat tidy and identical. Her car alarm flashed a greeting as she pushed the button and swung elegantly on to the front seat, sighing softly as she contemplated the morning ahead. No doubt she would be forced to see 'him' and no doubt he would be his usual charming self, but she wouldn't let him spoil it. Today was too important.\n\nThe streets were coming alive as other commuters from the neighborhood left their houses en-masse and climbed into their automobiles, heading for their various offices. She watched the ritual impatiently, waiting for a gap in the traffic then gunned the gas and pulled out quickly as a neighbour let her out, the latest album by The Foals blasting at full volume from her stereo.\n\nAs she sped down the highway, she thought ahead to the testing phase of the project and gave silent thanks that she would be able to lose herself in that. It was guaranteed that life was going to get a little more interesting for a while.\n\nLeanne tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she approached the huge wire perimeter fence that surrounded the extensive DreamReal Corp building, its' hulking silver presence glinting in the fierce Texan sun.\n\n# Chapter Two\n\nGetting into work was never easy, to look a the place from the outside you'd think she was entering some military base, but then there was big money involved in the computer industry and the bosses liked to keep their secrets safe. Leanne flipped out her identification as she pulled up to the security gates and fixed a beam on her face as she lowered her window. It was the same practiced smile she delivered each morning.\n\n\"Morning, Miss Li, how ya doin' on this fine day?\" The security guard was in his late fifties with swept back gray hair and creases on his face that said he laughed too much.\n\n\"Not bad, thanks Matt. Yourself?\" Leanne replied, handing over her I.D card at him for the ritual scan. The procedure had to be endured every morning.\n\n\"Ah ya know, pretty good. Got a vacation coming up next week,\" he smirked barely hiding the smugness on his face. He had already activated the gate, which began to slowly rise upwards.\n\n\"Lucky you!\" Leanne pouted, \"Go easy on the liquor won't you?\" She drove off not giving him a chance to respond but heard his laugh disappear behind her as she drove through the gate.\n\nPulling into her parking space in the dimly lit underground parking lot of DreamReal Corp, Leanne switched off the engine and sat, unmoving for a moment.\n\nShe thought about taking a break. If all went well with the day's final tests, it would be the opportune moment to request some leave. Leanne checked herself in the mirror, and was a little perturbed by the dark shadows under her eyes, exaggerated by the murky darkness within her car. It wasn't just the lack of light though, she really was living on a knife-edge these days, and her break up with Mike had been the catalyst - she was sure of it.\n\nShe checked her watch, 08:23 - she was almost late. That was unlike her and she didn't like it. Leanne Li was never late!\n\nMaybe just this once ... she thought as she gathered up her briefcase, locked her car and made her way to the elevator.\n\nIt was time to go to work. No more self-pity she told herself before pushing the button that would take her up into the heart of DreamReal Corp. The lift didn't respond and then she cursed to herself, rummaging through her bag for a secondary security pass. The company took security very seriously. Corporate spies had been known to try and infiltrate their premises and the board had acted, bringing in extra measures in the previous few months.\n\nShe swiped the card and the evaluator doors sprang open with an affirmative electronic beep. A small voice welcomed her as she stepped through the doors:\n\n\"Good morning, Miss Li and welcome to DreamReal Corp, the future supplier of humanity's dreams. We hope you have a wonderful day!\"\n\nLeanne mumbled a return greeting, \"Good morning, Sally.\" The floor numbers spun by at speed on the digital monitor before slowing down and stopping on the 33rd.\n\nThe doors opened silently and Leanne stepped out into the familiar reception area. Curvy green and red sofas along the left hand side, surrounded by large cardboard cut-outs of various strange creations, gave the whole room a fantasy feel. She smiled at Julie the receptionist, a bit too cute and a bit too blonde, and strolled along the center aisle. This was where the main body of the workers were, the code monkeys. Nodding and politely returning greetings from several workers busy tapping at keys she headed towards her office. Either side there was an expansively arranged sea of partitioned workstations, surrounded on each side by separate offices that had blinds drawn as if those on the outside weren't privy to what went on in there. As the leader of the team responsible for developing character artificial intelligence and behavior, Leanne was grateful for her open quiet space this morning.\n\nThe office was pretty much already in full work-mode. DreamReal Corp was a highly reputable leader in the gaming and computer industry who only employed the very best.\n\nLeanne stopped at the coffee machine and waited behind two men as they punched in their orders and waited, chatting as they did so, their voices animated. Leanne stood right behind them, listened intently.\n\n\"... This is it, what we've been working towards for three long years, I can barely believe it.\"\n\n\"Tell me about it, I can't wait. I got a good feeling about this one.\"\n\n\"Yeah, after the last debacle, surely they've ironed out the creases now.\"\n\n\"Damn well better have. My buddies have been bugging me about when it's gonna be released for about two years now!\"\n\nThey laughed and moved on, and Leanne watched them, nodding. She too had been impatiently waiting to get the game to the next level. She pushed the button for a double espresso hoping the extra caffeine would bear her in good stead for the testing phase. She could hardly wait - she would finally get to venture into the game world that she had helped create, at least as far as the behavior traits of the characters and computer A.I went.\n\nAs much as possible, Leanne had programmed character traits that she found desirable in people. Traits that would make the world a better place, should they have been more in abundance. Traits like: ambition, creativity, courage, honor, discipline and then the softer more human traits like kindness, selflessness, moral fiber, and so on. Of course the game had to be balanced and some of the darker traits of human characteristics also had to be included, otherwise where was the conflict and the drama going to come from?\n\nIf all had gone well, the endless hours spent tweaking the A.I throughout the night most nights for the last three years had paid off. She would find out soon enough.\n\nShe took her coffee from the machine, cradling it against her chest and headed to her office at the end of the bustling room that sounded with the incessant tapping of keyboards. Huge monitors dominated the walls, displaying different areas of the game's landscapes. There were several 3D scanners and printers all in use. Models of characters were still being scanned into the network even at this late stage, the computers analyzing the real-world objects and collecting data on its shape and appearance and storing it onto the vast servers that silently hummed a floor below. An endless cacophony of noise, almost like an orchestra as the world no doubt prepared itself for the emergence of one of the most anticipated user immersive games ever created.\n\nLeanne reached the door to her office and pushed it open with her free hand, gently so as not to spill the coffee. The sight that greeted her caused her to almost drop her coffee on the floor and she inhaled sharply.\n\nMike Lewin sat nonchalantly in Leanne's chair, slouched in it like an arrogant teenager, a sly grin spread across his face. As always Mike's appearance was immaculate, his Giorgio Armani shirt tight across his muscular frame, his square jaw giving him a George Clooney look, reeking of arrogant confidence. If anyone in DreamReal looked his or her part it was him. As the game coder and resident I.T brains behind the game development, he held quite an established, respected position. Leanne left the door open as she entered, hoping to avoid a discussion with him. Mike was the last person she wanted to see.\n\nHe leaned forward in the chair and placed his elbows on the desk top, his chin resting on his slender fingers as he watched her, eyes twinkling mischievously.\n\nLeanne dropped her bag onto the leather sofa across from her huge mahogany desk, her pride and joy and a place in which she had spent many an hour, working hard. A place now being invaded by the man she had tried so hard to wipe from her memory for the last month, but he wouldn't budge and she knew it.\n\n\"Good morning Leanne, you ready for the big day?\" Mike asked her, a smile playing across his thick lips, she knew that look all too well. He was here to get under her skin.\n\n\"I called this morning but you didn't pick up,\" he said, as if suggesting she was a naughty girl.\n\nLeanne sighed, and looked up to the heavens. \"Mike, what are you doing in my office?\"\n\n\"Oh come on, Lea,\" he said raising his hands in a gesture that suggested innocence but she knew better. \"I know how important today is to you and just wanted to wish you good luck. That's all.\" The glint in his green eyes, told her otherwise. Mike always had been like a bad stain, he just wouldn't budge even when he knew he was wrong; the stubbornness of the man was intolerable.\n\nBreaking up with him hadn't been easy but Leanne had endured his controlling ways for far too long. Once they had enjoyed something special, but gradually, after Mike had been promoted to leader of the biggest team on the project, his ego had taken precedence, even over her. She had become a trophy.\n\nNo, not me, not ever, she thought, her stare determined and steady, holding Mike's mocking eyes with her own steely glare. He had toyed with her enough.\n\n\"Thanks, now get the hell outta my office, your stench is killing me...\" She would play him at his own game. It was the only way to remove him - attack his ego.\n\nMike laughed out loud and drummed the desktop with his long, dextrous fingers, his black hair curled around his forehead and ears like little fingers, giving him a boyish look.\n\n\"Lea, be careful now. Pretty soon, you keep acting like this and your hair will fall out. I mean you're already looking the worse for wear and it's only been a month. Come back to me...\" He said, the cockiness in his voice dissipating somewhat with the last few words, replaced by mock pleading.\n\n\"Leanne?\" They both looked towards the door. It was Laura standing in the doorway, her long red hair draped across her shoulders, leaning against the doorframe. Leanne breathed a small sigh of relief, although she hid it from Mike. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.\n\n\"I have that character report that you emailed me about, do you still want to go over it?\" Laura said, glancing at Mike briefly before turning back to Leanne, her face serious, but Leanne saw the brief widening of her eyes.\n\nMike sniggered, watching the two of them as they came together like two conspirators, \"Women...\" he said in disgust, slowly shaking his head as they began to initiate the ploy to get away from him.\n\nLeanne took the opportunity with both hands and played along.\n\n\"Yes, yes, shall we discuss it in your office?\"\n\nLaura nodded and Leanne sauntered towards the door, glaring at Mike as she did so.\n\n\"You better be gone when I come back Mike. I mean it ... it's over between us and the sooner you get that through your thick skull the better.\"\n\nThey left the office together, leaving Mike sitting at her desk staring after them, the curve on his lips slowly morphing into a self assured smile.\n\n***\n\nMike wasn't finished with her yet. This was just the beginning. Did she really think she could just dump him like that ... leave him hanging with barely any explanation?\n\nWhat was it she had said, Mike thought as he once again leaned back in Leanne's chair, in no hurry to leave. Yes, that's it - he was too controlling and she didn't think they were right for each other anymore. He laughed to himself at how Leanne had suddenly been saved by Laura, as if she needed saving from him.\n\nThere was a hint of bitterness in his laugh and thoughts. Mike frowned wondering whether it was a deep-seated anger borne of his abandonment. Maybe, just maybe, his so-called 'controlling behavior' was due to the fact that she was married to her job, and he had - right from the beginning - played a bit part role in her life. And what was up with Laura? It seemed every time he caught up with Leanne, meaning to talk things over, there she was, watching and waiting for an opportunity to whisk her away from him.\n\nHe scowled at the empty doorway, remembering how Laura had just 'appeared' - yeah right. He wished she would just keep her nose out of their business. One of these days he was going to tell her exactly how he felt, but not yet, he needed to line up his ducks, so to speak. He looked down at his watch and seeing that it was almost time, pushed Leanne's chair back under her prized mahogany desk, subconsciously knowing how she liked things kept in their place before leaving the office.\n\n# Chapter Three\n\n\"Thanks for saving me back there, Laura. I owe you one,\" Leanne said, before taking a sip of the much needed coffee - her second of the morning. Her throat welcoming the bitter caffeine, her eyes closed, head back, resting on a cupboard door.\n\nLaura shrugged, stirring her coffee slowly as she looked down at it, \"Ah, that's fine Lea. I understand how things are between the two of you and the last thing you need is him prowling around your office.\"\n\nLeanne hopped up onto one of the small stools at the kitchenette counter and nodded, slowly.\n\n\"Yep, I mean, I understand he's upset, but he's going about it all wrong. What we really need is some space you know, and later ... who knows.\"\n\nLaura looked surprised and raised her eyebrows in response, \"You mean there's a possibility of the two of you getting back together?\"\n\n\"Well, I wouldn't say that. If Mike got his head out of his own ass, maybe it would be an option,\" Leanne said, relieved to be able to finally relax a little. That was why Laura was an invaluable friend who listened and actually showed interest. Leanne didn't have many friends like that, friends who cared and Laura was a confidante whom she trusted with all but her darkest secrets - those would never be disclosed to anyone.\n\nLaura smiled thinly and sipped her coffee, nodding slowly. She seemed a little preoccupied and for a few moments, there was a silence between them in the small confines of the little kitchenette, only the drone of the water purifier to keep them company.\n\nLaura finally looked up from the depths of her coffee mug and her face brightened, \"You ready for the big day today?\"\n\nAt the mention of the coming test - the final preparations for their current gaming platform - Leanne smiled and put her coffee down on the counter, \"To be honest, I can't wait, I've been watching this thing develop for the past three years with barely any chance to actually get my hands dirty, ya know?\" Leanne jumped off her stool, the excitement of the test looming on the horizon, filling her with newfound optimism.\n\n\"What about you? You looking forward to it?\"\n\n\"Am I?\" Laura nodded, her red hair bouncing on her shoulders, \"It's nice working directly for Mr. Blake and all, as his private assistant but I envy you guys who are out there on the front lines, doing all the design work and what not,\" she said placing her mug in the sink with a thud, before turning back to Leanne, \"I sure wish I could join you.\"\n\n\"Yes, it would've been great to have you there, but it's the top level team only I'm afraid,\" Leanne said, almost feeling guilty. She knew Laura would have loved to have made the drop but rules were rules.\n\nLaura's eyes dropped to the floor for a second, \"Sure. You make sure you have fun in there.\" She said looking up again, and Leanne saw she was chewing her bottom lip.\n\nLeanne grinned, \"Yeah I did design some pretty hunky A.I hero types that I'm looking forward to meeting,\" She was just happy it was almost over, three years of her life had been taken up with the project and to see it finally about to bear fruit was filling her with huge anticipation.\n\nLaura stopped chewing her lip and signalled to Leanne subtly, her eyes focused behind Leanne before closing, a gentle sigh seeping between her red lipstick laden lips.\n\nLeanne turned upon hearing the cupboard door behind her open, its hinges squeaking gently but enough to alert her to the presence of someone in the kitchen. The cupboard door had opened quickly as though the person opening it had tried to mask the sound of hinges badly in need of oil, but only succeeded in revealing their intent.\n\nIt was Simon Thomas, the graphic designer of the Dream project, responsible for the landscaping within the game. Leanne was very impressed with his work, and the wonderful job he had done on the different sections of the huge world were part of the reason she so dearly wanted to get lost within it.\n\nSeeing he had been noticed, he turned, placing the cup in his hand gently on the counter. \"Hi ... Leanne.\" He said, his voice quiet, almost too low to hear.\n\n\"Hey Simon, how's it going?\" Leanne asked, knowing he would be his usual awkward self around her. Behind her, leaning against the sink, Laura said nothing but simply stared on, her face clearly displaying her lack of interest. Laura was quick to dismiss people she thought were beneath her, a trait that Leanna despised in her. She could be as cold as ice when she decided she didn't like someone and unfortunately for Simon, he was one of them.\n\nLeanne had a soft spot for Simon though and had tried to engage him in conversation several times throughout their meetings and during the times they had worked together. Even though he was not the greatest at conversing there was something in his eyes. He was clearly a man that put others before himself, always taking the time to help out where he can. He was the smartest man she knew, if only he would just learn to relax.\n\nSimon didn't look up as he prepared a coffee, flicking the switch to the coffee machine, which whirred into life as the coffee was squeezed out into the glass jug below. \"Fine, thanks, looking forward to the test ... you?\" he said, with the unmistakable air of someone pushing themselves to interact, his voice just a little too loud.\n\nLooking over her shoulder at Laura, she gave a sympathetic shrug but Laura waved her hand dismissively and shook her head as if to say 'he's not worth it'. Leanne scowled and turned back to Simon who was staring at the machine, his eyes fixed on it as if willing it to hurry up. He very rarely ever looked anyone in the eye, content to stare at the floor or a distant point in space rather than make eye contact but Leanne thought she knew him, at least she knew how much the project meant to him. To her, as she watched him, his demeanour had changed slightly from its usual lack of composure, now there was an almost undetectable air of excitement about him.\n\nIs he just as excited as I am to get into the dream world? She wondered.\n\nShe watched him as he carefully added the milk and cream and stirred the coffee albeit with a trembling hand.\n\n\"Simon, I can't wait to delve into the game, it's going to be one hell of an experience, and especially after all the work we've put into it.\" She chose her words carefully, wanting to get him more involved.\n\nSimon turned to her, and smiled then, nodding, his eyes actually meeting hers for a moment, \"I was thinking exactly the same thing, Leanne.\"\n\nBehind them, Laura coughed, but Leanne ignored her and Simon didn't once spare her a glance, his eyes were fixed on Leanne's.\n\nHe wasn't exactly unattractive, but he could do with a few style pointers, thought Leanne. For one thing, his glasses were somehow not right, a little too big and a few years out of style. He must have been in his early thirties, his long unkempt hair wild and unruly, draped around his shoulders. The huge glasses certainly didn't do him any favors. Then there was his dress sense - cardigans and jumpers, most of them covered in colorful patterns and whirls, like something his mother had knitted for him. Nerds were super smart though. If only they knew how to dress and interact. Simon might actually be quite appealing.\n\nSeeing Leanne was appraising him, her eyes roaming first to his face and then his body, he quickly looked away; almost spilling his coffee such was the suddenness of the movement.\n\n\"Well, I'll ... see you in the control room,\" he said, softly before disappearing through a door.\n\n\"God, what's wrong with that guy?\" Laura said, but Leanne ignored her, lost in her thoughts as she watched Simon walk away.\n\nNice guys come last huh...\n\n# Chapter Four\n\n\"Leanne, it's time. Come to my office in 5 for the briefing.\"\n\n\"Yes, I...\" The line was cut off abruptly as Professor Blake hung up.\n\nLeanne sighed and replaced the phone, he was always that way. Saying goodbye 'New York' style. Still, she liked him for the way he was all work and no play. Strictly business. He clearly had a vision and was intent on reaching out for it, no matter what. Much like herself, only her vision was somewhat obscured lately. Life had seemed so simple as a child. Now the complexity of adulthood blurred the lines. Maybe it was the toll of having been in the same routine for too long that was getting her down. Change was needed and she knew it, maybe the break up with Mike was giving her the resolve she needed.\n\nShe closed her office door and made her way towards Professor Blake's office at the end of the room. The noise echoing around the maze of office workstations had grown since the morning; no doubt everyone was poised for the results of the test.\n\n\"Hey Leanne, you ready?\" Frank, one of her team was sat, watching her as she walked by, his face betraying the excited anticipation that was coursing through his veins.\n\nShe gave him a thumbs up and nodded, smiling. It was hard not to get drunk on the positive buzz that was radiating from the very walls of the entire office, but then she saw Mike.\n\nHe was leading the way, followed by Simon and Laura who trailed behind him like faithful servants.\n\nAlways needing to lead the charge, Mike was always the first to arrive on the scene whenever a meeting was called.\n\nShe stepped through the door, behind Simon, who nodded a greeting as she entered. Professor Blake's office was huge and just as one might expect with such a well-educated man, bookcases filled with all manner of hefty tomes and volumes flanked the walls.\n\n\"Come in, come in and shut the door behind you if you would, thank you.\" Professor Blake said, his voice punctuated by a strong English accent that came straight from the BBC World News channel.\n\nThey all took their places, in various seats positioned around the room, Leanne furthest away from Mike, Simon to her left and then Laura slipped in between.\n\nProfessor Blake had once been an eminent Professor of Computer Science in London and by all accounts was the best there was back home in England. That had been several years earlier according to the information Leanne had managed to get her hands on. Professor Blake was not one to talk about himself and his achievements but still, they preceded him wherever he went anyway.\n\nThe story, as far as Leanne had managed to glean from various websites, some entirely devoted to the Professor, filled with fans that worshiped the ground he walked on, was that he had quit teaching several years earlier. There was one particular story that surfaced again and again during her research, and that was the one concerning his 'discovery'.\n\nThe Professor had loved the concept of Second Life, where players played through an avatar and interacted with other characters in a dynamic and changing world. Being the talented man that he was, he was able to come up with a completely new platform on which to create a world, as close to the real thing as possible, where even the five senses could be utilized.\n\nThe Japanese had led the way, with their voracious appetite for robotics and A.I development but they had reached a plateau. Professor Blake had simply taken the reins and continued the climb. Under his tutelage and guidance, Leanne had created a world of life-like beings that responded to humans and reasoned with human-like logic and most of all ... emotion.\n\nThat had been the ultimate discovery as far as Leanne was concerned and it had enabled her to create characters that would fall in love, desire, and dream for greater things just as any human would.\n\nIt helped immensely that the Professor was a devout fan of fantasy and science fiction. One of his expansive bookshelves was completely overrun with it, all manner of books depicting strange beasts, creatures and alien worlds. The project was his baby and he decided what went into it. Leanne infused life into the characters, Simon created the world for them to exist in and Mike had developed the foundations upon which everything else depended.\n\nDreamReal was about to become 'reality' and Leanne was tingling with anticipation.\n\nProfessor Blake, sat in his high backed leather chair, his hands clasped together in front of him, each finger gently tapping the knuckles of each hand, as though he were restless. His thick gray hair swept back behind his ears like a mane and green-piercing eyes darted around the room behind thick-rimmed spectacles.\n\n\"This is it everyone, the moment we've been working towards since ... oh I don't know, I lost track of time ages ago, not as young as I once was.\" he grinned ruefully.\n\nHeads nodded around the room, it had indeed been a long time. Too long.\n\n\"Now, no doubt, you are all aware of what needs to be tested today. Nonetheless, I have prepared a list for each of you.\" He took a batch of SD memory cards that held all their task list information and other items that they needed inside the game. He held them out to Laura, who handed them out around the room and waited politely before continuing, \"You don't need me to tell you how much this means to me, and by now, I'm sure what was once 'my' baby is now also 'your' baby.\"\n\nIt was true, Leanne thought, it was now 'their' baby, their pride and joy and today it would be born, after years of nurturing, teaching and feeding. If all proceeded as well as all the signs suggested, that baby was about to come of age.\n\n\"Leanne, as you are responsible for the A.I and character makeup, your job will be to interact with and test the interaction, decision making, reasoning, learning and problem solving skills of the characters within the game.\" He looked into her eyes, his face softening, \"I'm positive that you've performed above and beyond your duties ... today is your reward.\"\n\nLeanne, smiled, nodding. \"Yes...\" She swore she could see a thin almost undetectable film of moisture forming over his eyes, like tears threatening to take hold, but he blinked and looked away, his eyes shifting to Mike.\n\n\"Mike,\" His tone became more serious, Professor Blake treated Leanne like a daughter and knew of her history with Mike. To put it bluntly - he wasn't fond of him.\n\n\"You know your job. Do it well and there won't be a repeat of what happened last time.\" Mike nodded, silent but his lips pursed together, and Leanne wondered if he were attempting to smile. If he was, he had failed miserably, because it appeared as a grimace.\n\nThe Professor checked his watch, before rubbing his hands together, and clapping.\n\n\"Let's go people! Simon, I trust you enough to get the job done, after all, we've you to thank for the splendid world we're about to enter. Let's go test it and see what this baby of ours has to offer, eh?\" Professor Blake rounded his small non-nondescript desk and placed his arm around Simon's shoulders, leading the way and Leanne spotted the scowl on Mike's face.\n\nHe was jealous of the attention and praise Professor Blake lavished on Leanne and Simon and it was obvious to all. He only had himself to blame for that. His arrogance was hard to take. In fact the only person who seemed to tolerate it was Laura. As she followed Professor Blake and Simon through the door she turned, seeing Laura reach out to Mike as if to comfort him. Leanne smiled to herself, enjoying seeing Mike without the arrogance that usually dominated his face. She screwed up the empty paper cup in her hand and tossed it lazily into a waste bin as she passed by. There were more important things to focus on, like DreamReal.\n\nHurrying, she came up behind Professor Blake and Simon, calling out as she did so, \"Hey, wait up you two.\"\n\nAt that, Professor Blake turned and smiled; stepping aside to let her join them as they walked to the large doors labelled 'Control Room.'\n\n# Chapter Five\n\nIn the center of the control room there were four large empty armchairs with rests for the head and feet. The room was banked with several large monitors with stunning landscape scenery of the world they were about to enter.\n\nThe leather creaked as Leanne Sat back in her chair, nervously reaching for her own headset, the excitement tingling in her fingers. She carefully slide the SD card into the headset admiring how slim the new versions were.\n\nThey each put on the thin chrome headsets that linked sensors to the Occipital and Temporal Cortical areas of the brain, responsible for dreams including perception, visual, auditory and tactile senses.\n\n\"Are you ready for this, Simon?\" Leanne gave him a smile.\n\n\"I don't think I've been more ready for anything in my life!\" he returned a boyish grin.\n\nShe nodded, \"I know, it's ...exhilarating isn't it?\" The air was filled hushed excitement and the electronic beeping of the monitor as it tracked their heart rates, and just beside her, the bleeping of Simon's monitor was a little more insistent than the rest. No doubt, this was a defining moment for him. She wondered how he would interact within the game world - how would he look? They had all chosen their own avatars the day before. Leanne had chosen to remain as close to herself as possible.\n\nThe M-Team, responsible for monitoring the players, were busy preparing the game world for their entrance and the countdown was about to begin. The anticipation filling the air was palpable and Leanne let herself relax as she was checked over by Mary, one of the engineers.\n\n\"You feeling okay in there, Leanne?\" She asked as she quickly checked the setting on the headset.\n\n\"I couldn't be better.\"\n\n\"I bet. I envy you guys, what with you all being the first in and everything. Don't get too get too caught up in there, okay?\" Mary said, an impish grin on her face, \"I've got me a character all set up and ready to take DreamReal by storm once you guys give the go ahead,\" she added, patting Leanne's arm before nodding to the others, an affirmative that they were good to go.\n\n\"Okay, start the countdown, if you will my good people.\" Professor Blake called out suddenly, his voice filled with the excitement they all no doubt felt at that moment.\n\nThe lights in the control room dimmed and a low intense humming began as the electronic equipment was initialized all around them.\n\n\"Remember, your job is to test the world. By all means enjoy it, but don't forget why you are really there...\" Professor Blake paused for a moment, appraising them all.\n\n\"I wish I could join you on this momentous occasion, but I must remain ... for now.\"\n\nHe glanced over at Leanne, his expression unreadable in the shadow that obscured his face.\n\nThe countdown began.\n\n10 ... 9 ... 8 ... 7 ... 6...\n\n\"I'll see you guys on the other side.\" Mike said, fixing Leanne with steady gaze. She herself felt a little afraid, her consciousness was about to plunged into another world completely.\n\n... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 Leanne looked over at the professor and saw he was watching her. He nodded once and then Leanne's vision suddenly blurred and blacked out altogether. The darkness was accompanied by an endless silence that reminded her of her meditation sessions, the moment when she entered the Theta brainwave state.\n\nThe silence was total, but the blackness was also impenetrable, not even a sliver of light visible in it's utter nothingness. She waited, her breathing steady, but feeling her heart rate creeping up slightly, a gentle thudding in her chest. She wondered how the others would deal with such emptiness.\n\nA light, distant but drawing closer. Sounds tuning in and out like the volume on a T.V. being toyed with. It was happening. The emergence they had told her about, the moment when DreamReal would finally tune into her brain waves and plunge her into the game. She braced herself, feeling her hands clench tightly in anticipation.\n\nThen it happened all at once. It began as a loud roar, crashing in her eardrums like distant waves that steadily grew louder and louder until finally it seemed the sound broke. Leanne felt her whole body fall suddenly, spiralling downwards. Disoriented and unable to focus on anything yet, Leanna was just able to make out a steadily glowing orange light above her. She recalled the effect of staring at a light bulb for too long, and how it would leave a visual echo of the bulb on her retina; this was the same, only in reverse.\n\nShe hit something. An explosion of all of her senses pulsed through her body like an electric shock. Resistance gave way underneath her sucking her in like welcoming arms and for a moment she almost panicked. It was then that Leanne realized she had landed in a body of water and was now sinking fast. Her sight abruptly snapped back into full focus, revealing a shimmering expanse of liquid all around her. She tried to orientate herself as the panic kicked in, struggling to pull herself towards what she hoped was upwards, and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Stretching towards the surface, aching to get free from her watery prison her hand smacked into a large boulder, icey liquid flooding into her mouth, as a chilling spike of fear kicked in.\n\nDon't Panic! She told herself, widening her eyes to see if she could make sense of her surroundings. A flurry of bubbles passed her face drifting upwards. Leanne wiggled her body like a fish and followed them towards the light of the surface. Suddenly the welcome relief of fresh air rushed into her aching lungs and she slumped against the bank, breathing heavily.\n\nShe had arrived and was now in the game world, fully attuned. Somehow though, she had ended up in a body of water. How could such a thing happen? Hadn't they already planned the precise location each of them would appear?\n\nLeanne's breathing slowed down as she started to relax at last. As the panic subsided, it dawned upon her just how real her surroundings seemed. Gently kicking her legs she marvelled at how real the water felt upon her skin. It was cool and offered a slight resistance with each push of her hands and legs - just as real water would. She looked up for the first time and was genuinely amazed by it all. Above the sounds of the water she could hear the gentle rustle of a tree in the wind, the bold stark reality of the world was shocking.\n\nIt also became immediately clear to her that this was not going to be like your average gamer world, where the environment couldn't harm or interact with you.\n\nAbove her, white clouds drifted lazily across a deep blue sky and Leanne gasped with delight as she spotted a huge planet floating above her. It hung high in the atmosphere, a blur of different colours being swirled around by some unseen force. Simon had spared no effort in his world building. She wondered where he was at that moment and how he would feel about his handy work. Proud, she guessed.\n\nFor a minute or two, Leanne stayed where she was, observing her new world, trying to place her location whilst appreciating the realness of the environment around her.\n\nBehind her, a huge cliff stretched up into the distance with trees spread across its hard rocky surface. Huge mossy patches were spread over the rocks like thick carpets and at its center was the vertical sweep of a majestic waterfall. The water, emanating from the hills overhead, cascaded over the rock face and into the pool she was floating in, a thick white foam bubbling up underneath it as it struck the water with a gentle roar. The pool became a river and threaded off to the east into the forest.\n\nLeanne was awestruck. There was nothing missing, as far as she could see. DreamReal was an almost perfect copy of reality, save for a few minor details such as the texture of certain objects like the rocks and the trees. She began to swim to the bank, eager to be on land and to 'feel' the solidness of the world. Would the solid ground and the objects be as convincing as the water?\n\nShe reached the shallows of the pool and found herself walking on rounded pebbles and smooth stones that were easily traversable, and much to Leanne's pleasure - multi-colored, creating a rainbow like effect under the water. With each step the ripples spreading out from her caused the colors to undulate and merge together with the movement of the water.\n\nJust like the real thing ... even better...\n\nShe stepped up onto the grassy bank and reached down to shake off the water from her tight leather body suit and breeches but she stopped when she realized they were bone dry. She ran her hands over the smooth black leather encasing her body, surprised. Why wasn't she wet? Was it another glitch in the system, like the randomness of her location? She supposed it must have been and made a mental note to inform the team as soon as she got back.\n\nThe thought of going back actually saddened her, but she had a few hours. Instructions were to exit the program at sunset and return with their findings. That would give her plenty of time to immerse herself in the game world and see her creations in the 'flesh' so to speak.\n\nAnother detail that pleased her about DreamReal was the fact that her body appeared as it did when she was just 18 years old, over 11 years ago. Her stomach was completely flat and even solid to the point of being washboard-like; the same was true for the rest of her body. Flexing her arms and legs, she saw the taut, firm muscles contracting, clearly visible under her leggings and through the thin nylon material of her sleeves.\n\nDespite only being 29 years old, it appeared that her body had changed drastically from what it had been when she was in college. The body she now ran her hands over, enjoying the coarseness of the leather and the flexible material that covered her arms and legs, felt young and strong. Even the port-wine stain birthmark on her forearm was gone, her porcelain skin unblemished and glowing with vitality.\n\nSimon, you really know how to make a woman feel sexy\n\nShe stopped stroking her newly young body and laughed, looking around, wondering how the others were finding this new world.\n\n# Chapter Six\n\nThey each had a section of the game world to cover, and would spend three real time hours plugged in which would equate to twenty-four hours in the game. Today Leanne would check on the characters of the high elves then head east to meet the elispians.\n\nAs she walked towards the edge of the forest, the constant twittering of birds and the drone of insects serenading her, a thought crept into her mind - she hadn't yet attempted to 'taste' the air. Something Simon had urged her to do while they were in the kitchenette one day earlier that week.\n\n\"It really does register - the taste, that is. I'm sure you know, Leanne, the taste of the air in the city is bitter and oily ... tainted, whereas in a natural habitat it's fresh and enlivening - the taste,\" he had said, in one of his bolder moments since she had known him.\n\n\"The team and myself have managed to incorporate scents, odors, tastes and so forth by mimicking the effect they have on the brain, within the computer system.\" Simon had stopped then, pausing to breath in his coffee, closing his eyes as he did so; Leanne had been amused at the sudden change in him. It wasn't like him to be so expressive but she found she liked it. When he had opened his eyes and found hers with his gray blue eyes, he continued, \"You see, the wonderful aromatic scent of this coffee, is nothing more than a signal, one which instructs the brain to 'experience' and 'taste'. All we have done is pinpoint the exact locations of the brain that do that.\"\n\nLeanne had nodded, it sounded simple enough but she knew it was extremely painstaking work and no doubt Simon himself, being the team leader of the environment team had played a big role, as well as Mike. No doubt Mike would try to take all the credit.\n\n\"I understand how these 'tastes' are signals, Simon. But how does the brain know how to label each one, to initiate each individual flavor, scent and feeling? There are so many.\"\n\nSimon had smiled, and nodded as if she had confirmed something for him, \"I knew you would be eager to question the concept, ... you are just as I thought, curious and keen to know more, not content to just be.\"\n\nLeanne was stunned by his observation. He had obviously been admiring her from afar for some time but until then hadn't had the courage to talk to her.\n\n\"I'm no brain surgeon or specialist, Leanne, but from what I have learned from B-team, responsible for the 'human' aspect of this game, the brain is simply a computer. As such, it can be filled with programs... by linking DreamReal with the human brain, we have gained access to those programs.\"\n\nCould it be true? So far it seemed to be and the system was almost infallible, with very few faults.\n\nShe stopped by a large oak, with thick branches covered in bunched outgrowths of leaves and golden brown colored acorns, hanging tantalizingly close, Leanne marvelled at the detail of the tree as she breathed in deeply.\n\nShe breathed in the hot summer air, feeling it's warmth as it entered her mouth and nose. Waiting, she closed her eyes and tried to discern the scent, the signal, after a mere few seconds she smiled, yes there was a scent, just as he had said.\n\nThe little pink wildflowers scattered by the river's edge gave off a sweet fragrance, and intermingled with that overpowering scent were the usual outdoor odors. The earthy, rich smell of the river, a few feet away from her, was the most evident, complemented by what Leanne had always referred to as the scent of life - the smell of trees, grass and other growing things carried on the gentle breeze that stirred the leaves and blades of grass around her.\n\n\"Incredible...\" Leanne realized she had been admiring the world for nigh on ten minutes, and it was as if the longer she was there, the more her brain refused to behave as if it were merely information, and not the real thing.\n\nPerhaps it was too perfect to be real anyway, idyllic and seemingly untouched by man.\n\nSighing, her body completely relaxed now, Leanne set off for the forest, heading east along the river, where she knew she would soon come upon the home of the noble elves, their homes perched high up in the trees.\n\nDesigning the elves had been the best part of the process for her. Professor Blake shared her love for them as a race, even though they were purely fictional. The very idea of a race that co-existed in a harmonious balance with nature, and the animals was far-fetched from a human perspective, but to Leanne and Professor Blake it was an ideal worthy of humanity's aspirations.\n\nWalking through the forest, Leanne was frequently amazed by the details Simon and his team had thought to include in this amazing world. The forest floor was littered with small mushrooms and toadstools that she carefully avoided treading on. Hanging from the trees and branches were silvery, delicate spider webs that caught in her face several times, causing her to curse - she hated spiders. Still, the magic of the forest was enough to hold her attention until at last she came upon the home of the elves some 15 minutes later.\n\nWhen she saw the first of the small huts, perched high amongst the leafy canopy above her head, she realized just how high up the elves were actually living. She guessed it must have been at least thirty feet above her. The hut roofs were made from the giant tree leaves with small reed bridges stretching between the trees. Simon and his team had really gotten creative on this one, no doubt with help from Professor Blake.\n\nShe passed under the hut and continued on, expecting at any minute to see a set of stairs or a lift of some kind but there was none, at least not in sight. The forest below the settlement, of which she now saw several buildings, was free of any buildings or means of getting into the trees?\n\nAs she passed into a clearing, a voice behind her, gentle and melodious.\n\n\"Hello, bartoon stranger. What brings you to these parts?\"\n\nTurning, she saw one of the elves, standing in an opening of a huge oak tree. She guessed he had emerged from within the tree itself and it was possibly a means of traveling to and from the settlement above her head.\n\nThe elf was even more charming than she had anticipated. Dressed in a green tunic and leggings, overlaid with what appeared to be leather armor, he was like a character from a fairytale. Blond, golden hued hair hung over his shoulders; several braids on each side and his small elfin features were boyish and pleasant to look upon. She realized he was waiting for an answer, his head cocked to one side as he waited, his forest green eyes curiously fixated on her.\n\n\"Oh, hello.\" She smiled and nodded, pleased so far. \"I'm just passing through on my way to Green Valley.\"\n\n\"Green Valley? The Elipsian lands are just to the east of here, you are now passing through my people's home - Eluthria.\" He said, motioning to the huts interconnected by wooden walkways above; it was quite an expansive settlement.\n\nLeanne heard a giggle behind her and turned but there was no one there. Puzzled, she looked back at the elf and he was smiling. He looked towards a moss-covered log off to her right and nodded. Leanne watched, waiting for the owner of the giggle to appear.\n\nSeveral moments passed and then a little face peaked over the top of the log, a face with a pair of the most stunningly beautiful eyes she had ever seen. They looked at Leanne in awe, the intense turquoise orbes catching the shafts of sunlight that fell on the little girl's face.\n\n\"Hello there ... what's your name?\" Leanne said, taking a step towards the shy figure that watched her from behind the log.\n\nThere was another giggle, this time off to her left and she realized there were several children hiding on the edges of the clearing, evidently shy. She laughed, pleased that so far, the A.I's were responding perfectly, just as she hoped they would. There was a huge difference between interacting in the confines of the lab and interacting within the game itself.\n\nThey seemed to be actually 'living'.\n\n\"Remayth drein, trusslor? A small voice questioned, behind her now and she turned to see a little form perched in the branches of a young Elm tree, almost camouflaged and she would not have seen the young male if he hadn't spoken.\n\nShe knew the elves also had their own language, but had yet to learn any of the words, so she had no idea what the young elf male had asked her.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Please excuse my son, he likes to tease the bartoons that pass through this area.\" The adult male elf then walked into the clearing and stopped at Leanne's side, before addressing the children scattered around the clearing. \"Children, come out and show yourself, this bartoon means us no harm, don't be shy.\"\n\nWithin seconds, four young elves had peeled away from their hiding places and now stood before her in a huddled group, their young faces staring up at Leanne with wonder.\n\n\"What's your name, bartoon?\" The boy from the tree asked confidently and the adult elf smiled and nodded pleased.\n\nLeanne was struck by the realness of their behavior. They appeared to be acting as any group of children in the real world would, the adult male was clearly proud of his son.\n\nShe hadn't realized just how well she had programmed the characters in DreamReal. They each seemed to behave with their own personality, completely original and if one hadn't known beforehand, it might be easy to mistake them for the real thing.\n\nLeanne stepped forward and knelt before them, before speaking, softly, \"My name's Leanne Li. What are your names?\"\n\nThe boy continued to be the spokesperson for the children. \"I'm Ralih, and this is Eliy, Welsad and Tor.\" The boy said, pointing at the others as he named them before turning back to her. Leanne began to feel like she was an exhibit as their eyes watched her, examining her.\n\n\"It's nice to meet you all. You all have such beautiful names.\"\n\nThey beamed at her, their turquoise eyes shimmering and seemingly filled with fascination, but she knew they had limits as far as behavior was concerned. Just how far those limits went or would go she was no longer sure: they had already surprised her.\n\nShe remembered how Professor Blake had mentioned how it might be possible for such characters to evolve as the game wore on. The more they encountered, the more they would learn and therefore grow and develop just as people did in the real world.\n\nLeanne smiled and held out a hand to the children. The little girl, previously shy, reached forward and took it, her little face filled with wonder.\n\nHer skin felt real, soft and supple. Her touch gentle and warm. She smiled as the other children came forward, eager to touch her now that the little girl had done so. Her courage spreading to the others. The adult male stood and watched on, a slight smile on his face. \"My name is Turim,\" he said. Slightly bowing his head. \"Before you head on your journey, would you care to join me and my family for some refreshments?\n\nSuddenly, all the worries that had played on her mind in the previous months were gone, replaced with happiness. Although she knew the elves weren't real, they still felt and acted so and Leanne allowed herself to forget the real world for the time being, while she enjoyed the company of the benevolent beings as they grew bolder and with it, friendlier.\n\n\"I would be honored\" Leanne said, mimicking his slight bow. The children gave a squeal of delight. Rahil was quick to grab Leanne's arm to lead the way, practically pulling her as he went.\n\nThey soon came to another tree with a small opening at the bottom of the huge trunk and ducked through the small entranceway, which opened up to reveal a bigger chamber inside. A spiral staircase carved elegantly out of the tree itself climbed upwards to different levels with passages leading off into the darkness. There was a soft glow coming from somewhere above but it was almost like the tree itself was giving off a gentle light.\n\nThey walked up for a short time until the came to a little passage. Pushing aside a loose drape, Rahil revealed a small room. In the center was a low table with cushions seated all around it. \"Welcome to my home!\" Rahil said as the rest of the elves came in behind them.\n\n\"Please be seated\" Turim said pointing to one of the large cushions. Looking around Leanne was impressed with the simple beauty of the place, small wooden carvings etched the walls, and all the furniture looked to have been made from the wood of the forest. There were two doorways leading off and Leanne could hear typical sounds of a kitchen coming from one of them. All the young Elves had soon seated themselves around the table, Rahil and Eliy sitting next to her. Soon a slender elf in robes of light brown came in carrying a large steaming bowl. Setting it down in the middle of the table she then turned to Leanne and extending a hand. \"I'm Delori. It is always a pleasure to have guests for lunch.\"\n\n\"The pleasure is all mine I can assure you,\" said Leanne gently taking her hand. \"This is such a wonderful home and you have such well mannered children.\"\n\nDelori frowned slightly, the corners of her mouth gently curling it to a small smile. \"Yes, when the choose to be.\" she said looking at Rahil who blushed slightly and turned away from his mother's glare.\n\n\"If I'd know you were joining us I would have prepared something special. As it happen were are just having a simple stew,\" Delori said.\n\n\"It may only be a simple stew but it smells amazing.\" said Leanne as Turim passed her a bowl.\n\nAs Leanna sat and shared the simple meal with the elves, she was overwhelmed with the pleasure it brought. They talked about trivial things, shared jokes and stories of what they had been doing. The bond between the family was strong and their familiarity of the actions was scarcely human. When the meal was finished, Leanne was promptly led on a tour house by Rahil. There was not much to it, a few simple bedrooms and a washroom, but it had an overwhelming sense of being someone's home.\n\nShe spent a few more minutes with the elf male and his children before bidding them farewell. Pleased her first encounter was such a positive success she set off with a bounce in her step. Leanne was feeling pleased, satisfied that the world was so much more than she had anticipated. Best of all, the A.I's were performing beautifully, almost like humans in the real world - she couldn't wait to tell Blake. If only there was some way of contacting him.\n\nThe elf, Turim, had told her that to the Northeast lived the Elipsians, a human-like species dominated by females, which Leanne already knew. It was her job to meet all the races in Nymphania to see how they were behaving.\n\n# Chapter Seven\n\nAs she walked, her legs began to ache, the deeper she walked into the forest and as Simon had warned them the day before, the world was quite a large place and would take hours to walk from one end to the other. If it wasn't for the fact that tiredness was a very real issue within the game, she would have pressed on relentlessly. As it was though, she realized she would have to pace herself.\n\nLeanne's leather map was safely tucked away inside the backpack, the virtual equivalent of her SD card. Having no watch or cell phone on her as she walked through the forest, climbing over gnarled tree roots snaking across the ground, Leanne felt a little isolated from the world. How often had it been that way for her though, she reminded herself. Never. Technology had always been at the forefront of her life and just as with the dating website earlier, it wasn't helping her much anyway. What she really needed was peace and some time to get her head together.\n\nA day in DreamReal, away from technology might just be what the doctor ordered, she thought. She heaved herself up a grassy incline, gently sloping upwards, breathing in the sweet forest air.\n\nUpwards she climbed, pulling on trees and bushes as she pressed onwards, determined to make it to the elipsian zone well before sunset. She had been walking for almost an hour and the ever-chattering forest, although tranquil and stunningly beautiful, was becoming a little irksome. It seemed to have no end, although the day before when they had been going over the maps of the area, she specifically saw the huge expanse of grassland - the home of the elipsians on the edge of the forest, but so far there was no sign of it.\n\nSeveral times on the journey she had ducked out of sight as an animal passed by, searching for food in the lush and fertile forest. Once she thought she saw a group of Bartoons but on creeping closer she had been shocked to discover it was a troll accompanied by several goblins, dragging a large sack through the undergrowth, branches snapping under their careless feet.\n\nFrom her hiding place, she could see they were headed in the same direction as her, towards the elipsians. She wished she could get a closer look at what they were dragging behind them.\n\nLeanne was sure that the A.I should not be so active so early in the game which was still in need of more development. Quests and side-quests that would involve the player who could side with the forces of good or evil.\n\nShe watched from behind a tree and wondered whether these characters were showing signs of aggression already. Puzzled, Leanne wondered why they would be heading for the elipsian's territory. Were they already on some form of quest?\n\nAs she stood, and watched the figures fade into the sea of trees in the distance, she heard another sound - this time, behind her and she turned, feeling a little uneasy now at the sudden development.\n\nBefore her, stood four pale skinned warriors, dressed in a garb similar to that of the Elf warrior she had met before. They resembled the elf in every way except for their long braided jet-black hair, in stark contrast to their pale skin, giving them a somewhat sinister appearance.\n\nEach one carried a bow, slung over his shoulder and a blade hanging from his belt, curved and deadly looking. They were fingering the handles of their blades as they regarded her, their faces expressionless.\n\nThey stood and watched her, unmoving, their dark menacing eyes appraising her as she held up her hands, showing them she meant no harm. Judging by their appearance, she doubted they saw her as any kind of threat.\n\nEach one appeared to be a hardy, toughened warrior and the last thing that would frighten them, she assumed, would be a 5\"6 little human female like her. They were all at least 6 feet tall and she could see taut, bunched muscles protruding through their dark garments.\n\nThey continued to stare so Leanne decided she should try to communicate with them.\n\n\"Hello, I'm Leanne. It's nice to meet you.\"\n\nHolding out a hand, she offered it to the one who appeared to be the leader, shaking her hand gently to show him what she intended but he looked at it and then back at her, and shook his head.\n\n\"No, bartoon. Our ways are not yours, besides I wouldn't touch your filthy bartoon hide. I might catch something!\" he spat, his voice hateful and filled with venom, although Leanne detected the melodious quality that all the Elves seemed to possess when they spoke. These were no doubt, dark elves. The question was - why were they here? This was high elf territory, not dark elf.\n\nSo far, from what she had seen the A.I was performing incredibly well. All the characteristics she had programmed into each race, being displayed for her to see. In keeping with the aim of the game, to create a fantasy setting in which the players would fight against each other and the DreamReal characters, Professor Blake had encouraged her to create both good and evil sides - unfortunately, the dark elves were evil.\n\nLeanne was a little taken aback by his aggressiveness, although she was pleased they were behaving as she had programmed them. The bartoons and the dark elves were programed to have a deep-seated hatred of each other, like a memory that stemmed back thousands of years. Unfortunately for her, the dark elves before her appeared to be hostile towards her, as she was, in their eyes - a bartoon.\n\nSmiling, she took a step back and tried a new tactic. \"I'm sorry, forgive me. I understand, I shouldn't have been so short-sighted.\"\n\nThe dark elves faltered slightly, turning to each other, their eyes questioning. The leader, bearing a long scar from his left eye to his chin, a grotesquely gray, swollen blight upon his face, stepped forward.\n\n\"Do not apologize, bartoon. Your kind always were a little stupid,\" he said, his face impassive as he regarded her like she was an intruder on his territory. \"Pray tell, why are you, a bartoon, here on the edge of elipsian territory?\" He pointed into the trees just ahead and she realized she was close to her destination.\n\nYes, he was right. bartoons and elipsians didn't get along. In fact, in the game world, they were close to war. She was taking a risk, although it was hard to be genuinely afraid, it was after all, just a game, right?\n\nShe played along, enjoying the exchange and the dark elves extraordinary A.I. She was also wondering why they were on the edge of Elipsian territory but asking them wouldn't do her any favors so instead she decided to calm the situation.\n\n\"I come as an ambassador, seeking an audience with Queen Dana of the elipsian people,\" she said, holding his gaze. His gray-black eyes narrowed in suspicion as she lied to him.\n\nThe lead dark elf laughed suddenly, a high-pitched sound that had a feminine quality to it. Another trait of elves, she thought, they were so gentle and shared many feminine qualities with human females - in the real world, that is. Dark elves were more mischievous and may even attack her if provoked, that much she was sure of.\n\nThe other dark elves simply stood, and Leanne noticed that during the exchange, they had spread out from their original position and were now close to encircling her. Just a few feet more on either side and she would be surrounded. She became fearful, but it passed quickly when she remembered she only need speak the words \"Exit Game\" and she would be back in the real world, her consciousness extracted from the game world within seconds.\n\nShe had no weapons with which to fight them, if it came to that, but she didn't intend to fight them anyway. She would talk her way out of it.\n\nThe lead dark elf finally stopped laughing, and nodded, smiling. \"I see, so now the bartoons are using females to do their dirty work?\" He said taking another step forward, his posture altering slightly. Leanne sensed she was seconds away from being attacked and there were no words that would help her now.\n\nShe realized the folly of her words. The Bartoons were a male dominated race and so logically they would send a male ambassador, not a female. She was quickly digging herself into an even deeper hole and the dark elves clearly weren't simple minded. Despite the fact she knew this was merely a game, the situation was becoming worrying. She hadn't expected things to be so difficult. She noticed that the dark elves started to slowly shuffle sideways, moving further apart, their beady eyes fixed intently upon her.\n\nShe needed to act fast. Coming to a decision in a split-second she said the words, \"Exit game.\" After several seconds she realized she was still in the game.\n\nThe dark elf before her took another step, and to her left and right, she sensed the other elves getting closer.\n\n\"What did you say, bartoon?\"\n\n\"Exit game!\" She said louder, a slight panic began to worm it's way into her consciousness. It had to be a malfunction of some kind? A glitch perhaps?\n\nLeanne's mind raced, she was in no position to fight, this whole expedition had just been to engage and socialise with the characters. There was nothing left to do but flee.\n\nSuddenly she bolted into a run, through the widest gap of the encircling elves. Leanne's heart beat fast as she ran as fast as she could, zigzagging through the maze of trees attempting to put distance between them, but the sounds behind her weren't promising.\n\nShe heard their cries and shouts behind her and wanted to look over her shoulder but she didn't dare, fearing she might stumble. Then it would be all over.\n\nShe focused hard on her running and getting to safety where she could evaluate her options and perhaps find another way back to reality.\n\nHer legs ached badly, burning from the long walk through the forest. She wouldn't be able to run for long, but still she pushed herself onwards, adrenalin driving her forward. They may have been merely constructs of a game, but the look in their eyes had told her all she needed to know - they meant to harm her.\n\nBehind her the sounds of pursuit ceased abruptly and as she scrambled up yet another tree-root ridden incline, she was filled with hope. Perhaps they had given up.\n\nThat hope vanished in a sudden explosion of pain.\n\nFeeling like she had just been struck from behind, she stumbled forwards against the incline and cried out as a sharp sting shot through her body. She had no idea the game would affect the senses so realistically and now as she looked down and saw the bloody tip of a bone arrowhead protruding through the light leather armor over her stomach.\n\nLeanne was vaguely aware of footsteps moving through the undergrowth behind her but she barely registered the sounds. Darkness enveloped her quickly as she lost consciousness, her body falling backwards and sliding down the incline towards her attackers.\n\nThe pain was intense, too intense. It should have been a mild tingling sensation but this felt way too real.\n\nWhat the hell is going on?\n\nShe felt arms heave her off the ground and drag her, one word dominated her consciousness – why?\n\n# Chapter Eight\n\nProfessor Blake paced back and forth, thinking, wracking his brain for a solution but he could only think of one way forward. The only way that would guarantee their safety.\n\nHe wasn't overly concerned that Leanne had been hurt and captured, that was all part of the game after all, albeit somewhat premature. For some reason the emergency exit command had failed Leanne and she had been attacked. It was very disconcerting. The only option was for him to go in, gather the group and lead them out through the only other exit available to them.\n\nIn the dim light of the control room he stopped pacing and watched the twitching bodies of Simon, Mike and Leanne in their chairs as they traversed the terrain within the game, each in their own designated area, completely oblivious to his presence before them in the real world. He gritted his teeth until his jaw ached, annoyed at the interruption. They were so close, he would not allow anything to disrupt the progress of the project, his life's work.\n\nHe walked over to Leanne's still form, her face etched in pain as though the arrow impaling her in the game world was real. Blake knew it certainly 'felt' real, at least to a certain degree.\n\nThe game had to 'feel' real otherwise how would it differ from any other 3D gaming world? During the design period, he had insisted that the players would be capable of feeling with as many senses as possible. He had hired the best experts from all over the world to tweak and add to his grand vision.\n\nReaching out to the screen, he patted Leanne's arm wishing she could feel the gesture. She was a tough one, that was why he admired her so much and there wasn't much she couldn't or wouldn't do, much like himself when he was younger.\n\nThis project meant everything to him and Leanne's involvement was paramount to its success. He knew that much. It was simply hard to separate his fatherly feelings for her from their work on DreamReal. Each day had been a struggle for him as he had watched Mike flaunt his arrogance around the office like some testosterone-fuelled cockerel.\n\nBlake looked over at Mike, who was speaking to someone, his lips moving animatedly as he conversed and Blake scowled, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. The time would come when Mike would no longer be needed, but for now, he was the best at what he did, and DreamReal wasn't ready.\n\nIn time...\n\n\"Professor?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mary, what is it?\" He said impatiently, ready to deny the eager young technician's suggestion once again.\n\nHe turned to her, a wistful smile on his kind face as she began to offer yet another idea as to what they might do to get the team back.\n\n\"We could rewrite certain sections of the code, and create an exit so ...\" Her voice was filled with hopeful eagerness and Professor Blake nodded, pleased.\n\nStill, there was only one option.\n\n\"Very good Mary but no, that would disrupt the fabric of the game and possibly cause a malfunction within the system. It's just too risky while they are all plugged in like this,\" he said, stepping down from the gaming platform and making towards the rest of M-team who were gathered around the monitors in the next room, watching the team within DreamReal.\n\nMary sighed; clearly annoyed that she couldn't do anything to help. That was one of the reasons he liked her so much, she was like a younger version of Leanne, so stubborn and headstrong. She never knew when to admit defeat.\n\n\"So if we can't shut the system down, disconnect them or rewrite the code while they are in the game world what can we do?\" Mary slumped into one of the chairs by the long console, an array of monitors and other electronic devices beeped, measured and tracked.\n\n\"Get me one of the spare headsets could you Mary? There's one in the equipment room.\"\n\nProfessor Blake slowly removed his tweed jacket, before folding it and placing it over the arm of a chair, then began to remove his tie, his face serious, and his eyes burning with determination.\n\nFive minutes later Mary returned with the headset in her hand, looking at Professor Blake worriedly.\n\n\"I'm going in after them.\" His steely gray eyes flicked to the last remaining gaming chair.\n\nThe others turned to look at him, concern etched across their features, who would they turn to if he got stuck inside?\n\nBlake smiled at the shocked faces of M-team. There was no danger to him at least not yet. His character was sufficiently powerful to keep him out of stressful situations and besides, he was a 'young' fifty-nine.\n\n\"Don't try to talk me out of it... I'm going in, it's the only way I can bring them back safely.\"\n\n\"But how?\" Tom, the communications engineer asked, looking up from Mike's monitor, brightness illuminating the concern that was contorting his face. Tom had always been too quick to jump to conclusions. His weakness. He made up for it in other ways though.\n\n\"I know of a way, another exit, within the game world, but with no way of communicating with the team, I have to go in, find them, and lead them to it before things get any worse.\" His voice was calm.\n\nMary stepped towards him, her hands resting on his chest.\n\n\"No, you can't Professor...\"\n\n\"Can't what? Who knows more about DreamReal than me? I created it. I know the game and I know how to end this. It's merely a blip in an otherwise successful test,\" he said, batting Mary's hands away, his voice firm and unrelenting.\n\nThey couldn't talk him out of it. DreamReal was his life's work, and this test was the pretest to the greatest moment of his life. The moment when he would deliver a reality within reality, another world where magic was possible and players could be anyone they chose to be. An escape from the mundane existence the world was quickly becoming.\n\nTom and the others stared on in silence, knowing they wouldn't change the old man's mind no matter how much they attempted to do so.\n\n\"Mary, not another word.\" Professor Blake said. \"Prepare my chair, please.\" He met Mary's stare and saw the concern in her eyes.\n\n\"Look, stop acting like this is going to be the last time you might ever see my old face. I'm fifty-nine not one hundred and nine!\" Waving Mary's attempted assistance away with a hand as he laughed heartily, the anticipation of the journey into the world stirring his sense of humor into action.\n\nMary strapped in the Professor checking the settings as he put on the chrome headset. Tom watched the heart and brain monitors as they started to display his readings. Everything seemed normal. Blake looked up at the watching technicians.\n\n\"I'll be seeing you on the other side. You can't monitor me as I'm not officially in the system. Hold the fort for me till I get back.\"\n\n# Chapter Nine\n\nThe Queen of the Elipsians watched herself in the huge mirror that took up the entirety of the west wall, reflecting back her image as she performed pull-up after pull up, her long powerful fingers clasped tightly around one of many worn looking bars she used to exercise.\n\nHer room was filled with implements that allowed her to keep her body honed and ready for war, ready for the challenge she knew was coming.\n\nThe queen was a powerfully built figure with long legs, hard flat stomach and ample breasts. An intricate tattoo partly revealed itself, snaking up her pale skin and over the landscape of her curves. She taken care to keep her figure balanced, enough to allow her to still be nimble and lithe, flexible but tough, like leather.\n\nIn the background behind her, through thin wispy white drapes that stirred slightly in the breeze, a large expanse of green could be seen overlooked by dark mountains in the distance, jagged and threatening like claws. It was her empire and soon the dark elves would give all to her, not just their loyalty but their lands.\n\nA single bead of sweat dripped from her forehead, landing on the thick sheepskin rugs at her bare feet. She frowned, sweat was a rare thing for her, unusual. She halted and dropped down from the pull-up bar, watching her slender but powerful arms as the muscles eased back into place. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, with large voluptuous lips and almond shaped eyes that glowed bright green in the sunlight.\n\nMany a male had thrown himself at her, attempting to gain her hand in marriage but she was as ferocious a lover as she was a fighter and like a black widow, she had disposed of them, after having her way. It was said that a night with her was worth the risk, but only the greatest lovers survived to tell the tale. It took a ferocious lover to please such a voracious appetite.\n\nThe deep thumping sound of the drums outside her chamber sounded suddenly as they were struck, her guards announcing the arrival of a guest.\n\nSmiling, Queen Dana walked slowly to her bed and slowly eased herself onto the array of cushions that lay strewn over the purple silk sheets.\n\nAt the sight of her, most men struggled to compose themselves, their bodies letting them down and Queen Dana was most disappointed when that happened.\n\nShe heard footsteps on the stone walkway outside her door and smiled, pulling the long bladed crystal dagger from her dark black hair, letting it fall freely over her shoulders, where it came to rest on the bed around her, over her shapely thighs and the silk gown that covered them.\n\nHer royal guards entered, a man in their midst. Tall, dark and hooded.\n\n\"Your highness, here is your guest, the traveller.\n\nHer guards were all women, as were all soldiers in her kingdom. Elipsians had no place for men in such a position. It had been that way for millennia, although men had their uses, she thought as she watched the figure before her.\n\n\"Leave me, now.\" The queen's voice was firm, with a hint of threat and her guards bowed and left, their bodies equally as skimpily clad as their queen, though the stranger only had eyes for Dana and ignored them.\n\n\"Your highness.\"\n\nAt once the guards disappeared, closing the iron clad door behind them with a thud, leaving the two of them alone.\n\n\"Well...?\" She said, her eyes boring into the figure, her gaze intense.\n\nThe figure threw back his hood, revealing a young but hardened face, ruggedly handsome. The man was over six feet tall and his body was clad in shimmering, silver chain mail that glinted in the rays of sunlight arcing into the queen's chamber, giving his entire body a radiant glow.\n\nHe stepped forward, his heavy boots loud on the stone floor of her chamber, and bowed low to the ground. A surprising gesture for one of his size, as his movement was graceful and easy.\n\nShe nonchalantly ran a finger down her neck, her eyes fixated on him, alluring yet menacing.\n\n\"I apologize for the intrusion your highness,\" the man said nervously, rising up to his full height once more, his eyes flicking over her figure. Her long slender finger tracing a line along the leather straps of her armour.\n\n\"I have a request, your highness,\" the man said, his eyes still fixed firmly on the finger that slowly glided down the glistening black leather to her powerfully built thighs.\n\n\"Yes, I believe you have. What is it? And it better be worth it. You know how I deal with those who promise much, only to let me down...\" Her voice was low and menacing.\n\n\"There is a girl in the market, she was captured by dark elves and is now about to be sold, as a slave,\" the man said.\n\n\"And ...?\" Queen Dana said alluringly, her right hand moving up to the clasp at her shoulder while her left moved out of sight. The man watched carefully, his own breathing quickening.\n\n\"I need you to buy her. She may be useful to us ... very useful.\"\n\nThe queen, popped the clasp and the leather straps fell away from her left shoulder, exposing her firm breast to the air and the stranger took a deep breath. He glanced around the chambers, rubbing his clammy hands before returning his gaze to the queen.\n\n\"Really? A woman you say?\"\n\nThe right shoulder clasp popped open revealing both of her firm full breasts. Her nipples were hard like bullets, surrounded by dark areolas.\n\n\"I was hoping to come to some arrangement, with gold coins if that is agreeable?\" he said, looking away from her as she peeled away more garments. She glided towards him seductively, moving behind him with her hand trailing around his chest, slowly removing his chain mail, which dropped to the floor.\n\n\"Hmm, gold you say. I prefer a more intimate arrangement, wouldn't you agree?\" Her voice was a mere whisper, close to his ear. Her hand moved down his stomach before resting on his leather loincloth, her fingers skilfully untying the string, giving her hungry fingers access to his manhood.\n\n\"I'm not sure. I'd prefer...\" his voice trailed away as she massaged him to involuntary hardness. She turned him around to face her and planted her ruby lips on his, searching him with her tongue and moaning as their lips locked. The traveller pulled away for air and gasped.\n\n\"My queen, I must insist that we make another arrangement.\"\n\nThe queen frowned at him with annoyance but stayed close, her hands stroking his back before clawing her nails into his skin that made him wince at the pain.\n\n\"I like my arrangement better. Or there's no deal,\" she hissed.\n\n\"Very well, my queen. For this woman must be bought.\"\n\n# Chapter Ten\n\nLeanne felt the searing pain in her stomach once again, forcing her back into consciousness. She sensed bodies near her, groans of misery but could see nothing but darkness. She tried to move her arms but a tightness cut into her wrists adding to her sense of helplessness.\n\nWhere was she? What had happened?\n\nThen the memory came back to her: the woodland, the dark elves and the arrow of pain. She must be tied and blindfolded somewhere, awaiting god knows what fate.\n\nLeanne gave silent thanks that the game world couldn't kill them although she knew that wasn't actually strictly true. Yes, it could not 'directly' kill them, merely hurt them, but if they went without sustenance for too long ....\n\n\"Hello, who is here? Where am I?\" she half croaked, her voice betraying her fragile state.\n\nThere was a snigger of derision.\n\n\"Welcome to the world of slaves bartoon,\" a distinct elven accent replied.\n\n\"You'll fetch a pretty penny we reckon. We were taking bets,\" said another more human voice.\n\n\"Can anyone remove this damned blindfold?\" Leanne snapped, already losing patience with the sarcastic responses.\n\n\"We'll wave some magic dust from our nostrils and you'll see clear as day, my lovely.\" Another chorus of snarky laughter.\n\nLeanne sighed with frustration and continued to try to make sense of her surroundings, slowly moving her feet: which she soon realized were untied. In the background the noise of a crowd, the clomping of horses and random shouts that told her she must be in a town.\n\nSuddenly a high-pitched screech of what sounded like an ancient metal door followed by shouts of protest of those around her. A commotion kicked off and she felt a loose boot to her thigh and a sickening thud of hard wood to someone's body. The protesting died and the door clunked shut.\n\nLeanne suddenly felt a touch of something on her arm that made her flinch and clench her fists, ready to resist.\n\n\"It's Ok, my name is Alicious. I will try to help you,\" a smooth quiet female voice reassured her. As soon as the voice spoke the blindfold eased upwards and Leanne's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light. She found herself staring at the most beautiful oval shaped clear blue eyes that looked back at her unblinkingly. They were the eyes of a nymph female, who stood at no more than three feet tall.\n\nShe wore a tight tunic, a belt that glinted in the darkness and her beautiful wings were clipped together to prevent escape.\n\n\"Are you in pain?\" Leanne asked Alicious, ignoring her own predicament as she nodded towards the wings.\n\n\"Pain, yes. But pain is only one level of consciousness. All nymphs learn to isolate and separate these levels.\"\n\n\"I sure wish I could do that,\" said Leanne, winching as the stomach pain returned in waves. Alicious stroked Leanne's dark hair with her tiny hand, as if comforting her.\n\n\"You need to box away the pain as if it is in another body, somewhere else.\"\n\nLeanne smiled to herself at the irony as she thought of her body in sleep, strapped to a chair and wired to the game. She looked at the beautiful nymph, glad to have found a friendly face. \"That actually makes me feel better, thank you.\"\n\n\"Hey, Alicious. How about undoing these cuffs and opening that door while you're at it?\" The gruff voice interrupting them came from a stout ogre who squatted in the corner glaring at them both. For the first time Leanne saw she was in a large steel cage, packed with miserable looking characters from every race on Nymphania.\n\nTwo female guards, their knee high boots kicking up dust from the ground appeared, laughing and joking as they approached. The painful screech of the cage door bit the air once again and one of the guards pointed at Leanne.\n\n\"You! Out now,\" she barked.\n\nLeanne glared back angrily and did not move. Not bothering to repeat the order the guard marched into the cage, lifting her stick to swipe any unfortunate body in her way and walked up to Leanne, grabbing her hair and pulling her along the ground. Dirt got into her eyes and mouth adding to her pain and yet she was determined to hold onto what Alicious had said; to box out the pain and keep focused. A roar of protests rose up from the other prisoners as Leanne cried out, yearning to resist in some way but quickly realizing it was useless doing so. Soon she was hauled to her feet and pushed by a hard stick into the small of her back through a baying crowd towards a high wooden platform where it seemed other prisoners were lined up.\n\nStill slightly blinded by the dirt in her eyes and the stark sunlight from above, she allowed herself to be dragged up onto the platform and held in place while shackles were placed on her legs.\n\nLined up alongside her were several other prisoners - slaves she thought. They were all human, all male and every last one of them was covered in bloody welts that suggested they had been lashed. The fear washed over her again.\n\nIn the space before them, on a wooden platform, a tall gangly figure dressed in barely more than rags was arguing with the crowd, touting prices and haggling, frenziedly, his hands throwing up shapes and numbers to his left and right, two fingers there and three here.\n\nIt was a sale and Leanne was one of the commodities. It appeared at that moment that she was the hottest item up for sale and dozens of staring faces leered at her, ogling her body as she stood limply.\n\nHe body ached and her mouth was so dry that when she attempted to lick her lips, her tongue didn't move. Coupled with the pain and exhaustion she felt, the lack of water was sucking the life from her, so much so that she wished someone would buy her quickly, to spare her from the intense heat.\n\nThe crowd was made up of all kinds of species, all of which she recognized. There were the short, robust dwarves who waved their axes in the air, as they bartered aggressively. Then there were the wolven, humanoid, standing on two legs, but covered in thick, rangy black hair and with horrible long snouts from which protruded prickly, needle-like teeth. She hoped they didn't succeed in buying her. She knew from the game design stage that they ate flesh, whether or not they could eat her, she didn't know, but she didn't wish to find out.\n\nThere were dark elves amidst the crowd too and several humans.\n\nOne particular hooded figure stood out, his face obscured by the crowd. His dress was different to the others and he appeared to be much more careful and deliberate in his movements. She wasn't quite sure what made him stand out until he raised an arm and called out a price for her.\n\nSomehow, she knew the movement could only belong to a human, a 'real' human - one of her team. It had to be. She tried to see the figure more clearly, squinting in the harsh sunlight but it was impossible. Still, it gave her renewed faith that she still might escape her situation alive and well.\n\nFor ten minutes, the bidding war went on between the hooded stranger and the wolven until just when it seemed the hooded stranger had succeeded in buying her, a group of female warriors marched into the dusty square and addressed the slave master.\n\n\"You are to hand over the Human woman, by order of the queen.\"\n\n\"But I paid good money for her,\" the slave master argued, his whining voice reminding Leanne of a rat's squeal.\n\nThe muscular woman tossed him a bag that clinked as if it were filled with metal and upon inspecting it, the slave master grunted and signalled for his men to release her to the warriors.\n\nWho were they? They didn't look friendly. They were clad in leather armour, simply leather straps that criss crossed their bodies, barely concealing their flesh. They reminded her of a troupe of dominatrix' only they carried weapons, their hands resting on the pommels of short swords which they looked more than capable of wielding.\n\nShe recalled that there were two 'human-like' races on Nymphania - the Bartoons, dominated by men and the Elipsians, the most powerful of the six races on Nymphania, dominated by women. She could be in the capital city of Elipsianis.\n\nLeanne managed to turn and look at the hooded figure one last time who had turned and was now heading the other way, his black cloak billowing out behind him. She snarled with frustration as the female warrior guards grabbed her by the arms and struggled and kicked. She was not going to make it easy for them.\n\nThe women dragged her roughly through the streets heading towards a tall, white castle in the distance, its hundreds of spires rising up seemingly touching the clouds above. Leanne checked her surroundings to see if she recognized the area from her studying of the game maps and terrain.\n\nTo her left, a fountain with two stone statues, both strong muscular women sporting long pointed spears and tall shields. Water sprayed forth from the tips of their spears arcing into a small pool below where men in rags washed themselves.\n\nMost of the buildings were made of stone with little in the way of decorum. The stonework suggested the early beginnings of a flourishing race, one ready to take on the challenges of a new age.\n\nThey headed deeper into the city, the powerful women barging through a group of men, one of them lashing out with a hand, catching and knocking a man to the ground easily.\n\n\"Get out of our way!\"\n\nLeanne's eyes widened suddenly, the women, they were the dominant sex. Yes, it made sense. She cursed silently, she was clearly in the realm of Queen Dana and it looked as though she was being led to the castle.\n\nWhat would the queen want with her?\n\nShe would find out soon enough.\n\n# Chapter Eleven\n\nThe sky was murky blue, early evening was setting in and the sun now long gone over the horizon. With the sun setting and the moon taking the reins to illuminate the land, a lull set in before night creatures took over, their dark shifting shapes, soon to be crawling and creeping as they sought their prey.\n\nThe gaming team were supposed to have arrived safely back in the real world by now, but instead the consciousness of each player was somewhere within the game - lost and hopeless.\n\nA rider appeared atop a distant hill, just outside the city of Elipsianis and spurred his horse onwards, eager to reach his destination before the full dark set in. The forest in this area was not a friendly place to be at night but he needed to be there. The gravity of the situation required it and he was the only one in a position to do anything. He was afraid, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, the icy cold surges of fear that shot through him at the slightest stirring in the undergrowth reminded him of the truth.\n\nGalloping through a valley, the shadowy tops of the hills around him seemed to rise up like night creatures, intent on swallowing him. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, both to fend off the early evening chill and to block out the night and what it held.\n\nReaching the end of the valley, the figure reined in his horse for a moment and listened, he had heard something, a familiar sound. It rang out again, through the steadily darkening night air. This time there was no mistaking the blood-curdling howl of a wolf, and the figure knew these were no ordinary wolves. He was afraid but he had no choice. These unpredictable wolven were his last hope even though he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was riding into an ambush.\n\nA thin mist was beginning to snake its way through the trees and over the tops of the hills, obscuring his view. Summoning courage from the depths of his being, he pushed his steed onwards, despite its reluctance to go any further.\n\nFor several more minutes he rode, deeper into the forest, the darkness now complete, making it hard to discern branches and trees ahead of him. The gloom was so deep that he had to slow his horse to a slow trot, and for several more minutes he rode like that, the forest beginning to come alive all around him. The night creatures emerging.\n\nFinally, the clearing, thick with mist, lay before him. He breathed a sigh of relief upon finding it.\n\nAhead of him, two red eyes glowed brightly in the pitch black, the rest of the creature invisible in the darkness and the figure steeled himself before speaking.\n\n\"I have come seeking an audience... will you hear me?\"\n\nThe red eyes, several meters away from him, never once blinked. They remained fixed upon him in an unnerving stare that reminded the figure he was in 'their' territory. They could easily attack him if they wished, but what would they gain from that? If they captured him, they could keep him as long as they wanted, while his body slowly deteriorated back in the real world.\n\nJesus, I need to get out of here.\n\nThe voice belonging to the eyes spoke up. \"That depends, what is it exactly that you want from us, bartoon?\" The voice rasped from the darkness.\n\nThe figure was silent for a moment, as if thinking, and then continued.\n\n\"I need some troops to fight with me, it might be dangerous but I can pay well, if you would do this for me.\"\n\nThe eyes blinked finally and then suddenly a piercing howl tore through the night air, causing the hairs on the back of the figure's neck to stand on end. His horse reared up and almost threw him and that's when he saw more eyes glowing in the dark behind him and to the left of him in the woods - he was surrounded.\n\nIn the distance, a series of howls erupted, filling the night air with a chilling cacophony that signalled the approach of a dozen or so wolven, those whose aid he had come to enlist.\n\n\"Very well, but you will need to come to our settlement ... if you dare,\" the voice rasped, a mocking quality entering its voice, \"Our leader will negotiate a 'fair' price.\"\n\n\"Of course, let us make haste for there is little time.\"\n\nThe wolven before him moved in the undergrowth, several branches snapping loudly in the night, \"Follow me human, my kind are the most silent creatures of the forest, but for you I will make enough noise so that you may know where I am. Now move!\" The eyes disappeared and suddenly a series of rustling, cracking noises erupted ahead of him as the large wolven moved through the forest.\n\nIf things went his way, he would have a small army of wolven at his disposal; otherwise he may find himself in a very awkward situation.\n\nThe thoughts did him no good, so he pushed them aside and followed the snapping branches ahead in the dark forest; the rustling of crawling things all around him in the dark.\n\n# Chapter Twelve\n\nLeanne was thrown to the ground where she fell heavily, jarring her elbow, the pain was excruciating but she gritted her teeth not wishing to give the grinning queen any more satisfaction.\n\nStaring down on Leanne from her huge pure white throne that looked to be carved from ebony, although it would have to be a huge elephant for such a large seat to be made from its tusks, the queen cast an imposing figure.\n\nDid such creatures exist in DreamReality? She had no idea, perhaps Simon and the others had added them. They had already surprised her immensely with their incredible attention to detail, so she supposed there would no doubt be even more surprises in store.\n\n\"Welcome to my court, little one!\" The queen exclaimed, her long arms gesturing to the huge room in which they sat. The four walls around them were adorned with pictures, images that told of a history rich in war and conquest, wars fought only by the women and Leanne wondered who had made the time to add such intricate details to the game world. The workmanship was extraordinarily good and would have taken months to complete.\n\nThe queen herself was no doubt a daunting figure on the battlefield and as she leaned forward over her, Leanne was stunned at her size, she must have been almost two meters in height and her body wasn't exactly slender. The muscles on her arms stood out like the wires snaking through the DreamReal control center. She was incredibly beautiful though, and her large breasts were squashed beneath long leather straps that snaked across her body. The straps were bright red and Leanne was reminded of those dominatrix-like females that had dragged her to this place.\n\nShe thought of Mike then, and wondered where he might be at that moment. Was he terrorizing the elipsian females?\n\nShe watched the queen from her position at her sandaled feet, thinking how she would love to put her in her place. Leanne Li was no walkover and had studied Kung Fu as a girl. Though, judging by the size and shape of all the women, including the queen, in Elipsianis, she would stand no chance against them, especially considering their numbers.\n\nShe had to play it safe and wait for the opportunity to escape. It was difficult to remain composed, and the way the queen was staring at her, reminded her of a dog eyeing up a steak dinner.\n\nLeanne had been forcibly washed and made to wear the traditional garb of the elipsian female. Thankfully, they hadn't made her wear the revealing leather straps that the warriors and their queen wore. Instead she wore a bright blue gown that felt like silk against her skin, and rustled with every movement she made. It was flimsy but at least it covered her up for the most part.\n\nOutside, sunset had come and gone and Leanne wondered when she would be able to return to reality.\n\nWhat would Professor Blake do? Surely, at that very moment he must have been wracking his brilliant mind for a solution to the problem.\n\nShe suddenly felt a wave of fear wash over her and shake her strong resolve.\n\nWhat if its just me, that can't get back? What if I'm the only one stuck here? The thought sent a chill down her spine, but she forced herself to remain impassive on the outside. She wouldn't give Queen Dana the satisfaction of seeing her wilt under the pressure. Taking a deep breath to focus her self, Leanne began to reason. This after all was just a game, a series of puzzles to be overcome. If she kept her mind focused she would see the solution when it came. It was just a matter of time.\n\nThe festivities began in earnest suddenly. The Queen clapped her hands three times. All around her male slaves clad in dull colored robes threw something - a powder - she thought, into the fires that burned within large bronze bowls mounted on pedestals all around the room and the flames within shot into the air, changing color as they did so.\n\nGasps erupted all around the huge hall as the queen's guests and subjects marvelled at the display. It was the ushering in of the first of the night's festivities.\n\nLeanne, sat at the long, slender feet of the queen and scanned the hall, watching as the tables lined with noblemen and women - all similarly clad in flowing, and in some cases - see through - robes much like her own, came to life and began partaking of the sumptuous feast laid out before them. All around, the tables, which were low to the ground, framed a central point in the middle of the hall that was empty save for a huge sea of furs. Slave men darted, filling wine glasses and running platters of food obediently.\n\nLeanne wondered if such a world would be possible in reality. Would men really succumb to the overwhelming power of women - to this extent? She doubted that. In fact, she hated to see it, men were supposed to be strong and dominant - not women, although Leanne herself was a strong woman, she still believed that men and women had their place and this wasn't it.\n\nIn one corner of the room, minstrels played a feisty melodious tune that was accompanied by the beating of drums, lending a medieval air to the party. Queen Dana sat beaming, watching proceedings, enjoying her power.\n\n\"My dear, are you enjoying the feast?\" Leanne heard Queen Dana's deep husky voice behind her. A long muscular arm snaked around her body and pulled her to face the queen. Her green, unfaltering eyes fixed upon Leanne as if she were her plaything.\n\nLeanne decided to play it safe and not risk angering the queen. Something told her this was not a woman to be crossed.\n\nShe smiled up at the queen and nodded, \"Yes, it's wonderful, I especially like the music, and it's so enthralling.\"\n\nThe queen laughed, her huge bosom heaving, pushing her breasts against the already strained red leather there. \"Enthralling?\" She said in a mocking tone, turning to one of her elite guards who stood stone-faced at her right-hand side, \"What do you think? Is this music enthralling?\"\n\nRemaining expressionless, the dark-skinned guard shook her head, \"No, my queen. It is merely the pre-entertainment music, worthy only of slaves and is used to summon the entertainers as has been the tradition for centuries.\" The guard's voice was emotionless and Leanne was surprised at her words.\n\nThe queen seemed satisfied and turned, clapping her hands loudly once more, giving a signal. The music changed abruptly.\n\n\"This music is enthralling, but of course, a slave-girl like yourself would naturally enjoy 'slave' music.\" A faster drum beat began, followed by a wind-instrument that played a fast-paced melody, the tempo of the music building, before several more wind-instruments added their cheery sound to the mixture, and finally a string instrument completed the vibrant music that sounded like it belonged to an Arabic culture.\n\n\"This is 'real' music,\" The queen laughed, rising from her throne before descending the marble steps to where Leanne sat upon the cold stone floor.\n\n\"Guards, bring her.\"\n\nLeanne was seized and dragged roughly after the queen who strode confidently into the center of the room, amidst the sea of furs, and raised her long, arms motioning for the room to be silent, which it was, in an instant. Silence descended and as Leanne stood, eyes glaring at her persecutors, her wrists crushed together by the one sturdy hand of the queen's right-hand guard, she couldn't help but feel like she was 'on display.'\n\nOnce the room was completely silent, the long tables of brightly dressed women, and in contrast, men in dull colors, to signify their standing in society, the queen began to address the room.\n\n\"My people, we are a proud race, the finest race on all of Nymphania ... by far.\"\n\nThe room cheered and shouts of agreement roared all around the room.\n\nShe continued, her voice growing lower, a tinge of concern edging it. \"But, this is not enough for some of us, for some of you ... is it?\"\n\nThe room fell silent and Leanne watched, seeing the frightened reaction of one of those seated at the central table, a large robust man wearing a turban and flanked by two powerfully built female warriors, began to panic, his eyes wide with fear.\n\n\"I trusted you.\" she said, her voice venomous. \"You, a mere man.\" She spat at her feet, her head jerking with the action, causing her long dark hair to fall over her eyes. She batted the hair away before reaching for something in her boot.\n\n\"This man betrayed us all. He worked in cahoots with the enemy, worked alongside them as if they were his own people, the ENEMY!\" She cried, rage filling her voice, her eyes blazing fury, a frightening sight.\n\nThose seated around the three long tables in the hall, with around two hundred people in total roared in answer, furious, both men and women. The men, Leanne noticed, were less ferocious in their reaction.\n\nThe fat man tried to leave his seat, pushing at the warrior to his right but she held him in place along with the warrior at his left, and he cried out for forgiveness.\n\n\"Please, don't kill me, please my queen I swear it will never happen again ...\" The room watched in silence, knowing what was coming, and he too sensed it.\n\nIn her hand, which was now at her side, the queen held a long bladed dagger, its' point needle thin and deadly.\n\nWith a deft flick and barely a change in posture, the queen sent the dagger in a perfectly aimed trajectory for the wailing man. A millisecond later, the knife lodged in his throat. A series of gargling sounds emitted from his mouth; his hands reached for the wound momentarily before he slumped on the ground; his life ebbing away. The two warrior females dragged his body away silently and the queen clapped again, four times.\n\n\"Let the show begin.\" She cried out.\n\nSuddenly the music began to play once more, and once again the slave men threw powder into the flames, causing them to roar and change color from green, to red, to purple and back to orange again.\n\nThe air filled with a myriad of scents, strong musky scents that made Leanne feel slightly heady.\n\n\"Bring her.\" The queen commanded her guards and they dragged her after the queen as she took up a place at the head of the central table and clapped five times in rapid succession, eager to get the festivities started once more.\n\nLeanne was pushed into one of the hard, wooden chairs two places down from the queen, and told to \"eat.\"\n\nThe queen washed down a hunk of chicken with a mouthful of wine and turned to Leanne, \"My dear, I can see why he asked me to purchase you, you are rather beautiful, but still, watch and you shall see real beauty.\" She motioned to the center of the room and Leanne turned to watch the show unfolding before them.\n\nThe music had slowed now, to a lazy, slow tempo dominated by the wind instruments and before them, the furs began to move, and undulate and Leanne saw limbs begin to emerge from beneath them, long slender, milk-skinned limbs that moved slowly, deliberately.\n\nThe entire room was fixated on the scene, Leanne swore the scents were now becoming even more overpowering than before, making her feel light-headed, but no one else in the room seemed to be bothered.\n\nThe figures under the rugs now emerged fully, some male, others female and with the music they moved their bodies, slowly, gracefully, effortlessly, in a dance that brought them closer to one another.\n\nThe dancing figures were completely naked, and the perfect, beauty took Leanne. They were sensual and alluring but not in the usual unsophisticated manner of say a strip club. No, these men and women bore no resemblance to mere strippers. It was as if they were born to love, to make love and as she watched, she was struck by the expressions upon their long, high-cheek-boned faces.\n\nEach one of the slowly moving figures looked hungry, famished, but not for food, for something else. When she met the eyes of one - a young male with incredibly deep purple eyes, she knew immediately what they hungered for - sex.\n\nIn those seconds that she held the swaying man's gaze, his elfin eyes wanting her, she felt her body stir, her loins respond to his unspoken request, a wave of desire washing over her, until she reminded herself that these were merely characters - not people. Besides, she was their captive, and the last thing she should be contemplating was making love to one of their - sex slaves. That was no doubt what they were.\n\nLicking her lips, the queen clapped again, six times.\n\nNow the figures began to pair up, grasping and stroking each other, using lips and hands to explore each others bodies, and some of those watching around Leanne began to rub themselves, a low moan beginning around the room, an unremitting drone as the watchers were filled with desire.\n\nLeanne herself was struggling to keep composure.\n\nThe figures were making love before them now, in various positions, their impassioned cries and facial expressions causing Leanne to become even more aroused. She felt a hand on her shoulder - the queen.\n\n\"Come with me, immediately.\" The queen ordered, her voice commanding, but underpaid with the unmistakable breathlessness that only comes from unbridled desire.\n\nLeanne hesitated.\n\nWhat does she want with me?\n\nSeeing her hesitation, the queen ordered her guards to take her and follow her, dragging Leanne once more, this time into a stone passageway.\n\nThe queen stopped and turned, regarding her in the dim light, her chest heaving. \"You have two options, little one. Come with me and pleasure me ... or the dungeons, and only then because 'he' wants you alive.\"\n\nLeanne hesitated once more, more out of shock than fear. Such an audacious request. Leanne looked up into the queen's eyes, a small smile dancing across her lips. \"I will never pleasure you; I am not some toy for your entertainment. Your time controlling me is limited, Queen Dana...\" Leanne said dipping into a mocking bow.\n\nThe queen's face clouded over, a rage of emotion brewing beneath the surface., \"Your time will come, we'll see if a few days in the dark with no food will help that attitude problem ... take her away, let the rats have her.\"\n\nAs the guards dragged her through a series of dark tunnels, Leanne wondered if she had made the right decision. She may have lost a good chance to escape, and all she had to do was play the queen's sex slave.\n\nNot in a million years, she thought as she was thrown roughly into a cell.\n\nNot in a million years....\n\n# Chapter Thirteen\n\nThe floor of the dark windowless cell was cold and damp and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep warm. A perpetual chill seemed to permeate the walls and floor of the lower regions of the castle she was now a captive in, and Leanne wondered how long it would be before her body in the real world would begin to break down.\n\nShe thought about the day and how it had led her to this point.\n\nIn the morning, ironically, she had felt like curling up into a ball and hiding from the world, now here she was, her wish granted.\n\nSlamming a fist onto the cold stone floor where she lay, she grimaced as a very real pain shot up her arm. The pain was a dulled version of the real thing, but it still hurt.\n\nUnfortunately the five senses still worked here just as they did in the real world and that meant things like temperature could hurt players, after all, it was the player's consciousness that was essentially controlling the effect on the body. Even if it wasn't real the effects were.\n\nProfessor Blake would be disappointed, but she knew he would find a way. It was simply a matter of programming; more restrictions upon feeling would help drastically.\n\nOne other thing bugged her. As she strained to see in the utter darkness of her cell, knowing the bars were somewhere in front of her, she thought she heard sounds in the distance, metallic sounds.\n\nHer teeth chattered incessantly and her back was aching from the constant muscle spasms as the cold bit into her. She fought on, thinking how she had perhaps made a grave mistake.\n\nPerhaps she had made the A.I too smart. She had only wanted to help Professor Blake achieve his dream of building a gamer platform that was like the 'real' thing. She smiled in the darkness, but it was a rueful smile. If only she had done more testing, she would have seen this coming and toned down the A.I.\n\nSelf-evolving A.I ... I think it's safe to say that we achieved that Professor Blake ... what's that?\n\nThere was a scream. She listened, straining her ears.\n\nAnother scream, metallic noises again and then silence.\n\nSomething was happening out there. Fighting.\n\nShe didn't want to believe that someone had come to rescue her, she couldn't bear the disappointment, so she pushed thoughts of escape aside and turned to face the wall, ignoring the thud of a wooden door as it struck the wall out in the corridor somewhere.\n\nThe sound of a key in a lock; a click and a door opening with a creak. Leanne braced herself to resist whoever was coming in.\n\n\"Leanne?\" A voice in the darkness behind her.\n\n\"Who's there?\" she said, turning to see a figure illuminated in the doorway by a flaming torch, held in one hand. The figure was wearing a thick black cloak and it dawned on her in that split second that this was the figure from the marketplace.\n\n\"Yes, who are you?\"\n\n\"It's me, Simon. We've come to rescue you.\"\n\n\"Simon?\" Leanne almost burst into tears of joy right there in the cell but stopped herself, sensing the danger wasn't over. How could it be? There were too many of them.\n\n\"Yes, we need to get out now!\" His voice was filled with urgency and Leanne needed no more urging than that. She stepped forward in the dark and took his proffered hand tightly, glad for the warmth radiating from it.\n\nHe pulled her out into the corridor, his torch lighting their way as he pulled her behind him, his breathing heavy.\n\n\"I brought help, but they won't be able to hold them back for long. We have to get down to the sewers. It's the only way out now,\" Simon said pulling her into an alcove, and smothering her with his cloak as two armed women ran past, their swords drawn.\n\nThey ran and ran, passing the bodies of women and men alike, here and there lay the bloody forms of the wolven she had seen in the marketplace.\n\nShe had been so afraid of them. Were they really aiding her rescue?\n\nPerhaps there was hope after all. Hope for the A.I she had worked so hard on. She would work on it but first they had to escape the castle and then...\n\n\"In here,\" Simon whispered crouching low to the ground and pulling up a grate in the ground with a heave. It made a metallic clunk as he pushed it to the side, before lowering himself into the hole, his torch held above him, illuminating the way for Leanne.\n\nIt was the sewers under the castle and the stink was overpowering, making Leanne gag.\n\nThey really did think of everything didn't they, she thought, as she pulled the grate over her head and back into place before descending the ladder to the murky black water where Simon waited, his hood pulled back.\n\nShe stepped down off the ladder and turned to him. They had little time, but she was curious. Hunched over they fled down the small passageway, the light from the torch casting eerie shadows all around them. The twist and turns in the tunnel led them gradually downhill as the sounds from the castle grew more distant. They rounded the final corner and the sudden burst of light from the outside caused them both to stop. Simon threw down the torch and jumped off into the stream. Leanne was only too happy to follow and wash herself free of the foul stench. They lay in the shallows of the water, slowly getting their breath back.\n\n\"Simon, how did you know?\"\n\n\"I saw you in the market, remember?\" Simon said, raising his eyebrows, his handsome face, even more handsome in the gaming world.\n\n\"But what were you doing in the market?\"\n\n\"Just a spot of shopping, you know.\"\n\n\"I mean what were you doing in Elipsian, you were supposed to be in the mountains with the dark elves if I remember correctly,\" Leanne said, feeling cold again, shivering involuntarily.\n\nSimon saw the shiver and wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her into his cloak, against his muscular, warm body and Leanne liked the way it felt.\n\n\"I was in the mountains where I saw a raiding party of dark elves leave and I tracked them before they led me to you. I watched your encounter with them in the woods, I'm just sorry I couldn't help you sooner,\" Simon bowed his head as he gently held her tighter.\n\nLeanne looked up at him. He seemed taller and had he always been this good looking?\n\nSimon took a deep breath and looked up at sky for a moment, before meeting her eyes, just inches from her upturned face.\n\n\"I ...\" Leanne's lips found his and his words were lost forever as he kissed her back, their mouths coming together, gently at first but then harder as unbridled passion took over.\n\nLeanne moaned, satisfied and pulled away from Simon's lips, a smile on her face.\n\n\"I think I should've done that a long time ago, Simon.\"\n\nHe nodded, holding out his hand to glasp hers. They heard the distant cry of the wolven as they retreated from the castle. They needed to leave.\n\n\"I'm all the more eager to get back to the real world now,\" Simon said as he pulled her after him, their destination unknown.\n\nLeanne smiled in the darkness as her savior led her to safety.\n\nWho would have thought it? Simon, of all people. At that moment, Mike was erased from her memory banks forever.\n\nThe End of Book 1\n\n# Also Available\n\nSearch for 'Nymphania by Jasmin Reed' on your eBook device\n\nNymphania Book 2: Flies in the Web\n\nA mysterious figure creeps into the palace of the high elves with intentions to steal one of the maps that are hidden in each of the realms of Nymphania.\n\nMeanwhile Leanne and Simon continue to become close and work together to figure out how to escape their virtual gaming world. Leanne knows getting one of the maps is the key in order to find the secret exit door that will help them return to reality.\n\nThey head west to the high elves and meet Mike who puts a strain on Leanne and Simon's relationship.\n\nNymphania Book 3: Dark Maze\n\nLeanne and Simon are held captive in the subterranean caves deep in the mountains below the castle of the dark elves, awaiting their fate with the evil molark that draws ever closer. Will Mike help them or leave them to their certain death?\n\nThe wolven are once again enlisted, en-mass, this time by the traitor in DreamReal - setting up a blood pumping vicious finale.\n\nNymphania: Collected\n\nParts 1,2 and 3 collected in one omnibus book.\n\n# About the Author\n\nJasmin Reed is a proud twenty five year old geek girl based in London, England who loves fantasy and sci-fi fiction, comics and movies. She was inspired to write Nymphania, her first series, many years ago but only recently found the time (and courage) to complete and publish the three books in 2014. Her influences range from J.R.R. Tolkien to George R.R. Martin and she very much hopes you enjoy the series.\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n# Quantum Troopers\n\nEpisode 1: Atomgrabbers\n\n### Published by Philip Bosshardt at Smashwords\n\n### Copyright 2016 Philip Bosshardt\n\n### Smashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n### A few words about this series....\n\n  1. Quantum Troopers is a series of 15,000- 20,000 word episodes detailing the adventures of Johnny Winger and his experiences as a trooper with the United Nations Quantum Corps.\n\n  2. Each episode will be about 40-50 pages, approximately 20,000 words in length.\n\n  3. A new episode will be available and uploaded every 3 weeks.\n\n  4. There will be 22 episodes. The story will be completely serialized in about 14 months.\n\n  5. Each episode is a stand-alone story but will advance the greater theme and plot of the story arc.\n\n  6. The main plotline: U.N. Quantum Corps must defeat the criminal cartel Red Hammer's efforts to steal or disable their new nanorobotic ANAD systems.\n\n  7. Uploads will be made to www.smashwords.com on approximately the schedule below:\n\nEpisode # Title Approximate Upload Date\n\n1 'Atomgrabbers' 1-18-16\n\n2 'Nog School' 2-8-16\n\n3 'Deeno and Mighty Mite' 2-29-16\n\n4 'ANAD' 3-21-16\n\n5 'Table Top Mountain' 4-11-16\n\n6 'I, Lieutenant John Winger...' 5-2-16\n\n7 'Hong Chui' 5-23-16\n\n8 'Doc Frost' 6-13-16\n\n9 'Demonios of Via Verde' 7-5-16\n\n10 'The Big Bang' 7-25-16\n\n11 'Engebbe' 8-15-16\n\n12 'The Symbiosis Project' 9-5-16\n\n13 'Small is All!' 9-26-16\n\n14 ''The Serengeti Factor' 10-17-16\n\n15 'A Black Hole' 11-7-16\n\n16 'ANAD on Ice' 11-29-16\n\n17 'Lions Rock' 12-19-16\n\n18 'Geoplanes' 1-9-17\n\n19 'Mount Kipwezi' 1-30-17\n\n20 'Doc II' 2-20-17\n\n21 'Paryang Monastery' 3-13-17\n\n22 'Epilogue' 4-3-17\n\n\"Colorado\"\n\nColorado Springs, Colorado\n\nAugust 2, 2047\n\n2:15 p.m.\n\nJohnny Winger was in Net School, working with Katie Gomez on some algebra problems, when he learned his mom had been killed in a car crash. The message was from a deputy at the El Paso County Sheriff's office...one of the worst crashes we've seen in years, a deputy had said on the vidpost. Car went off a cliff, rolled down an embankment, burst into—your father's at the hospital now--\n\nJohnny snapped the post off. He didn't want to hear any more. He just wanted to go. Be there. See for himself.\n\nThe school let him out without any questions. Principal Costner tried to be sympathetic. \"Go on, son ...get out of here. We're praying for you—\" He swung his legs over his turbo and fired it up, gunning the engine angrily. Then he scratched off out of the parking lot and made his way screeching and sliding through several traffic lights to the autoway, heading north. Dad was alive, barely. In a hospital. Colorado Springs.\n\nHe just had to be there. And he wasn't going to give up control of his turbo to the autoway, not today of all days. He needed to be in control, feel the road vibrations and the wind, know for sure there was something he could control. Johnny Winger steered into the manual lane and cranked his bike up to just under a hundred. Cars and trucks and road signs flashed past.\n\nHe made the Sisters of Mercy Hospital in about half an hour.\n\nThe hospital was a Greco-Roman institutional brick pile, all fake columns and turrets and gables, some architect's wet dream gone awry. The ten-story main building poked up above a small forest of aspen and birch trees, in a hundred-acre park-like setting out along Powers Avenue. Johnny skidded his turbobike to a halt and parked in a delivery van's spot, then hustled inside.\n\nHe found his sister Joanna in the CCU waiting room.\n\nJoanna was an inch shorter, short blond hair with some locks hanging over her right eye. \"They just brought Mom in.\" She held up her wristpad. \"I was just talking with the funeral home...she died quickly, Sheriff's deputy told me. They're taking the body over there this afternoon.\"\n\nJohnny felt a hard lump in his throat. His eyes were dry, for the moment. Joanna's were red. He figured tears would come later.\n\n\"What about Dad?\"\n\n\"Just out of surgery...skull fracture...he may have some brain trauma, the docs said. He also has a broken arm, some spinal contusions...Johnny, it's a miracle he survived. From what that deputy said about the crash scene—\"\n\nJohnny put both hands on her shoulders. \"I heard. Let's do details later—\"he stopped when the door to the waiting room opened. A nurse in blue scrubs poked her head in.\n\n\"You two can make a short visit now...very short, like five minutes. Your Dad's semi-conscious, just coming out of sedation.\" She held the door back and they went in.\n\nThe Critical Care Unit was on the fifth floor, north wing. The waiting area had been half full, with small knots of people engaged in whispered conversation, two children joysticking remote action bots along the wall, and a wraparound active display showing live scenes from Vail and Aspen and Steamboat Springs. The nurse showed Johnny and Joanna down a hall to the Active Care Unit. Through the bioshield, a sort of containment zone inside of which active nanodevices were at work, Johnny came up to the bed where Jamison Winger lay enveloped in thick ganglia of wires and hoses. Joanna hung back, her hands to her mouth.\n\nA faint coruscating blue glow surrounded the bed, the inner containment field pulsating with active nano to protect the patient from further infection.\n\nA swarthy Egyptian doctor, Sethi Hassan, attended a small display, with imaging views showing what the bots were seeing. Two nurses also attended.\n\nDr. Hassan sensed the presence of someone new, but did not at first look away from the screen. His right hand manipulated a tiny trackball and the view on the screen changed with each manipulation.\n\n\"How's he doing, Doc?\" Johnny asked.\n\n\"About as well as could be expected,\" Hassan said. He had just finished some tests and scans, looking for peritumoral edema, any headaches, intracranial pressure, hemiparesis, tremors. Every test had turned up better than expected. \"Frankly, Mr. Winger here's doing a lot better than he should be. We still have some work to do, more surgery, basically repairs and reconstructive sessions. He's suffered substantial trauma to the frontal and parietal lobes. After that, more tests...memory function, basic motor skills. You've got five minutes, no more.\" With that Hassan retreated to a small control station by the door.\n\nWinger bent over the bed, pressing lightly against the field. A keening buzz changed pitch and invisible forces pressed back against his fingers, forcing his hand away. Standard mobility barrier, he told himself, almost without thinking. He'd read about bots like this on the Net just the other day. He moved aside to let Joanna come closer, then drifted toward Hassan's station.\n\n\"Doc, what do all these bots do?\"\n\nHassan sighed, flexed his fingers around the trackball at his panel and did some more manipulations, delicately driving the medbots under his command.\n\n\"Two hours ago, we perfused his brain with a small formation of neurocytes...these neurocytes are working now. I detached a small element just an hour ago, got them into position to block a serotonin avalanche that was firing off inside his limbic system...some kind of seizure, that was. We got the convulsions mostly stopped...although there's been some leakage into the hippocampal regions.\"\n\nWinger studied his father's face. His eyes were screwed shut, tension lines all converging along his forehead. He was clearly still in pain. His lips trembled and a rhythmic twitch made his fingers and feet move in fits of shaking. His head was wrapped in bandages.\n\nMr. Winger started to convulse—his arms and hands went rigid, then spasmed fluttering off into the air, brushing against the barrier. The mechs buzzed back. Beside the bed, Hassan busied himself driving the herd of neurocytes onward, tracking down the errant discharges. Seconds later, as he swarmed the 'cytes toward the center of the convulsion, the spasm gradually died off. Mr. Winger's arms dropped, his fists unclenched. The doctor looked up; his eyes saying that was too close.\n\n\"We're running the latest here at SOM...Mark III medical autonomous assemblers. AMADs. Most of the exterior trauma's already stitched up...that went pretty well, I must say. But hunting down these spasms and figuring out the firing patterns, timing the cascades and the uptake rates...that's taking time. I'll get it figured out eventually...if we can keep him stable for the time being.\"\n\nJoanna leaned over the bioweb and sighed with sadness. \"Brad's flying in from Frisco tonight. One of us needs to pick him up at the airport.\" Brad was the oldest of the Winger kids, now a resident at Stanford Medical.\n\n\"I just have my bike...Brad won't want to ride that.\"\n\n\"I can go,\" Joanna offered. \"If you'll stay here with him...you'll have to sign some paperwork when they bring Mom in. And Dr. Hassan may have questions about further treatment.\"\n\nThat's how it was decided. Joanna and Johnny ate a quick and tasteless meal at the commissary, consoled each other for a few moments over cake and coffee and then Joanna was off.\n\nJohnny went back to CCU. Slouching on a beat-up vinyl couch, he googled 'AMAD' on his wristpad and studied the images and the reports, browsing and skipping quickly through the details. At any moment, he expected to get another five-minute visit with his Dad and he had a few questions for Hassan and the second shift surgeon, Dr. Morse. He kept one eye on the double-doors to the trauma suite and one eye on his screen....\n\n'Autonomous nanoscale assemblers...the bots sport quantum processors...unique operating parameters...surgeons need special skills to run the bots...working at the scale of atoms takes a different mindset...it's like a carnival ride down there, with van der Waals forces and Brownian motion....'\n\nWinger watched a small snippet of video, taken from a bot's acoustic sounder inside a living brain. Someone was narrating....\n\n\"Right now, Dr. Volk is steering AMAD into the vascular cleft of the membrane. He's twisting his right hand controller, pulsing a carbene grabber to twist the cleft molecules just so, now releasing the membrane lipids, slingshotting himself forward. Now, AMAD seems to be floating in a plasma bath...there are dark, viny shapes barely visible off in the distance. The plasma is a heavy viscous fluid. Dr. Volk is tweaking up the propulsor to a higher power setting and taking a navigation hack off the vascular grid....\"\n\nJohnny found himself mesmerized by the scene. That would be so cool to do that, he told himself. Just a few weeks ago, he'd met with the guidance counselor at Pueblo Net School, Mr. Holley.\n\nTo say that Mr. Holley was fat was like saying Mt. Everest was tall. He squinted through folds of fat around his puffy eyes at a small tablet. \"It says here on your forms that you're interested in Engineering. Mr. Winger, I'm sure others have told you that to get into Engineering school, some place like Stanford, Cal Tech, Michigan and so forth, you'll have to get those marks up. To be honest, Mr. Winger, most of the basketball team has higher marks than this...especially in Math...what is it with Math anyway? Don't you like numbers? Your whole ten years at Net School, you've struggled.\"\n\nWell, he had only heard that about a million times. He'd developed a set litany of responses. \"Numbers don't like me, Mr. Holley.\" That was Number Fourteen. He had dozens more.\n\nNow, watching the video on his wrist, watching some surgeon whose name he couldn't even pronounce, joystick his way through a living brain, riding heard on a platoon of nanoscale bots like really small cattle, Johnny Winger had a moment's inspiration, a vision handed down from the future he would tell himself later, of doing the same thing. Grabbing atoms and fighting off viruses and disassembling oligodendrogliomas like the U.S. Cavalry...that he actually could see himself doing. Numbers...shmumbers...maybe this was something he ought to look into. After all, Dad had been beating on his head that he had to start thinking about his future after Net School. Maybe this....\n\nDr. Morse, the late-shift surgeon, cleared his throat.\n\n\"Ahem...Mr. Winger....\"\n\nJohnny jumped a foot. He didn't even realize someone had been standing next to him.\n\n\"Huh--?\"\n\n\"You can visit your Dad for several minutes, if you want. He's resting now...\"\n\nJohnny went in.\n\nThe bioweb was still up, flickering a faint white-blue. Johnny knew he couldn't physically touch his Dad. Jamison Winger's head was half-covered in a sort of helmet-like device. Johnny looked up questioningly.\n\n\"A docking station for medbots,\" Dr. Morse explained. He stepped away from a rolling console that was positioned next to the bed. \"We'll be doing an insert in another hour, trying to hunt down and fix neural pathways that were damaged... imagery shows some pretty serious peritumoral edemas in several regions. We're going to try and fix them tonight.\"\n\nWinger leaned over to look at Morse's console. \"I was just watching a vid about bots like this. This is pretty new stuff.\"\n\n\"State of the art,\" Morse told him. \"We've been using medical nano-robots for surgeries for several months now. It's cleaner than invasive, more accurate that endoscopic. In fact, we're still training our staff...there's an artificial body just down the hall...in the training suite.\"\n\nWinger looked over his Dad. His face seemed at rest. No more tension lines, no more tightened lips or strained cheeks. There was really nothing he could do at the moment anyway...but pray. And hope Morse and his staff knew what they were doing.\n\n\"You expect to be using these bots more and more.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" said Morse. He went back to his console. \"Once we get all the kinks worked out...oh, don't worry...we're not doing anything unusual tonight. We've used bots to repair neural damage dozens of times now. In fact,\" Morse kind of half smiled, \"Sisters of Mercy knows more about these bots than just about anybody...and that includes Quantum Corps.\"\n\nJohnny's eyebrows went up. \"Quantum Corps...I've heard of them. Some kind of UN agency?\"\n\n\"Exactly. They use bots all the time...in fact, that's their mission, from what I hear. But we've got way more experience with this kind of stuff than they do. In fact, I just saw an ad the other day...they're looking for applicants now.\"\n\n\"Really.\" Johnny stood up and went to take a closer look at Morse's console. \"Can you show me what these little buggers can do?\"\n\nMorse studied the teenager closely. \"I can do better than that. There's a training session scheduled for second shift tonight...around 2100 hours, I think. If you're around CCU, come down to room 5125. I'll give you a temporary password. We can do a little demo for you...show you what's happening with your Dad later. It's really quite extraordinary.\"\n\nJohnny looked at his Dad. Recovery would take weeks, maybe months, and that was if Morse could make his repairs. Then would come months of rehab. \"I'll be around most of the night. My sister's picking up my older brother at the airport tonight. They're coming straight here but it'll be several hours.\"\n\nMorse deftly shoo'ed Johnny out of the room. \"Go get something to eat. Then come to 5125. I think you'll be impressed. Your Dad's getting the best care we can provide...come watch. It'll put your mind at ease.\"\n\nJohnny promised to do just that.\n\nThe training suite was down the hall and around the corner from CCU Critical Surgery. Johnny got through the security barriers with Morse's temporary password with no trouble. He came into a room dominated by a large hemispherical tank, draped with thick ganglia of cables and tubes, surrounded by control panels and consoles. Overhead, a tray of strange gun-like devices hovered over one end of the tank.\n\n\"Electron beam injectors,\" said a voice from behind him.\n\nIt turned out to be a white-jacketed technician. His name plate read Stefans. He was a burly and bearded fellow, clad in latex gloves and a white cap as well. He was built like a lineman, which he had once been eons ago. Now there was a substantial paunch around his belly; what had once been muscle was now sagging into middle age.\n\n\"You were wondering what that was,\" Stefans went on. \"Protective measures...in case the little critters get loose...and start multiplying.\" Stefans stuck out his hand and formally introduced himself. \"Dr. Morse told me you might show up...sorry....about your Dad, I mean. But he's in great hands down the hall.\"\n\nJohnny looked around. \"This is all for training...on these bots?\"\n\nStefans nodded proudly. \"Want to give him a test drive?\"\n\nJohnny looked over the console. \"Can I? For real?\"\n\n\"For real. Sit there. I'll go over the basics.\" Stefans explained that the tank was a containment structure and inside was a device called an Autonomous Medical Assembler/Disassembler. \"AMAD for short. Here, I'll show you—\"\n\n\"I don't see anything.\" Johnny stared intently at the imager screen.\n\nStefans sat at a console next to the tank. \"We call it TinyTown.\" He tweaked the sensitivity controls of the quantum flux imager.\n\n\"Keep watching, son...you will, soon--\"\n\nThe image on the monitor sharpened slightly. In focus in the center of the screen was a rectangular grid, wavering in the aqueous solution in which the grid was submerged. Johnny studied the image carefully.\n\n\"Deflection at the probe tip is steady,\" Stefans muttered. \"That's about as close as we can get. The grid is ready. Let me check a few things...solution parameters are normal. Pressure is twenty point two bars. Temperature right on the curve. PH normal. Concentration gradient is what we expected. You ready for the ride of your life?\"\n\nJohnny nodded.\n\nStefans rubbed his gray moustache. \"Activation instructions are coded and set for transmission. Replication factor set for the template that's loaded. Safety systems armed.\"\n\nStefans scanned the panel displays. Poised around the periphery of the insulated tank in which the grid was suspended, were three rows of six electron beam injectors each. At the slightest hint of trouble during operation, Stefans would quickly toggle the firing switch on the control panel. Several million electron volts of energy would flood the tank, stripping atoms from molecules, and electrons from atoms. Only a cloud of nucleus fragments would remain.\n\n\"Now we're set...injectors are ready,\" Stefans said. He pointed to a small joystick. \"You drive AMAD with that.\"\n\nJohnny wrapped his fingers around the small stick. He indicated the device on the screen, clinging to a scaffolding like grapes on a trellis. \"I'm driving that?\"\n\n\"You will be a moment.\"\n\nJohnny flexed his fingers. He was practically licking his lips at the prospect of playing with this thing. \"You said you've improved a few things. What exactly do you mean?\"\n\nStefans pointed to fuzzy projections on the screen. \"Along with a new processor, AMAD has stiffer diamondoid effectors. More reactive or 'stickier' covalent bond ends too, basically carbenes and hydrogen radicals. That lets him grab atoms and move molecules more securely.\"\n\n\"I can actually grab atoms with this thing...like sling 'em around?\"\n\nStefans smiled proudly. \"A little trick we've patented. You can grab atoms and put them wherever you want. You can also replicate...make as many copies of yourself as you want. AMAD's got new carbon group fold lines. Basically a new type of architecture more easily cleaved and collapsed. For patients like your Dad, it makes tracking down and removing damaged cells, tumor cells, whatever, much easier.\"\n\nWinger tried out the control sticks on the panel.\n\nStefans continued. \"This guy's a real hot rod...optimized for faster folding and unfolding. A very ingenious design, I should add...based on ribosomal proteins...nature's own assemblers of proteins from DNA instruction. AMAD can break bonds much more rapidly, under quantum-scale control. Orders of magnitude faster than ribosomes, I'm certain. And he's got new fullerene 'hooks' for more secure grasping and attaching, which makes for better accuracy.\"\n\nJohnny was anxious to get started, get a feel for this wonderbread gadget Stefans was so proud of.\n\n\"Am I powered up? How do I start this thing?\"\n\n\"Fully powered. Just select a mode--here--\" Stefans fingered a side panel.\n\nJohnny settled into his seat, let his reflexes take over. Though he didn't know it, it was a basic axiom in nanoscale work that you didn't so much 'fly' the buggers as 'feel' them. Stefans knew that to a rookie, dodging molecules and groping van der Waals forces was like playing dodge ball with a sleet of sticky balls. It took timing and finesse, something that could only come with time.\n\n\"Layout's pretty straight-forward,\" Stefans went on. \"Operation controls you have your hands on are for the propulsors. AMAD's beefed up to sixty picowatts power. Six degrees of freedom in attitude...that's your left hand plus translation control in your right.\"\n\n\"Feels jumpy,\" Johnny reported. He twisted both sticks and the imager scene careened crazily. \"The slightest touch and he just takes off.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. I've got the gain boosted up high. Imager is acoustic feedback. You can overlay heading, attitude and state data on the image.\" Even as he spoke, Johnny already had the imager screen tiled with shifting mosaics of information.\n\n\"You seem like a natural at this,\" Stefans observed. \"Let's try to dock with something,\" he suggested, spying a few molecules drifting by.\n\nJohnny tickled the imager for better resolution and clucked at the view. \"There's some kind of molecule floating by—\"\n\n\"Why that looks like an old friend of ours. Mr. Acetylcholine Molecule. What say we scope him out for a parking place? Go for it, son. Give it a try. By the way, that's a covalent bond--\"\n\n\"Oh--!\" Johnny grunted sheepishly. The acetylcholine's carbon 'fingers' flicked AMAD away. He'd approached on a poor vector and gotten bounced by the stiff bond forces. \"I'll just try--\" Johnny grimaced, trying to regain control of the device. \"That's weird--molecule just up and spun me around...what gives?\"\n\nStefans sniffed. \"Something new.\" He pressed a few buttons on the keyboard. \"AUTO-RESET. With something like acetylcholine, dopamine--complicated structures like that--it's best to let AMAD do the piloting. This is fly-by-stick, electronically controlled. It seeks equilibrium and calculates resistance instantaneously. Let the computer and auto-maneuver system do the work now. AMAD knows what to look for. You sure you haven't done this before? It's like you're born to this.\"\n\nJohnny frowned. \"It seems easy...just twist here and it does that—\"\n\nOn the imager, AMAD careened around like a beach ball.\n\n\"It's not easy but some trainees just have a better feel for the forces involved. Frankly, what you're doing right now is pretty amazing. And working AMAD this way saves molecules from being smashed to bits by hotshot doctors. Before, doctors would just fly in and smash and grab molecules. Bust up everything in sight. Trust me, molecules don't like that. Now, with AMAD, docking with a molecule is essentially automated.\"\n\n\"What else can this thing do?\"\n\nStefans pressed a few more buttons to inject additional molecules into the solution. \"Say you're in an alien medium. Parameters unknown. Try a basic replication cycle.\"\n\nWhen Johnny looked puzzled, Stefans pointed out the right buttons and switches.\n\nThen, with Stefans' help, Johnny scoped out the medium with AMAD's sensors: pH, concentration gradient, pressure. He toggled the 'rep' pickle on the left stick, one cycle. In the blink of an eye, the imager screen jostled slightly.\n\n\"I'm waiting...nothing seems to be happening.\"\n\nStefans smiled. \"You missed it, son.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"AMAD's already replicated. Check your state vector...here--\" he pointed to a screen of dials and columns on the left. \"See what I mean?\"\n\nJohnny was dumb-founded. \"I'll be damned--this baby's a real hot rod. And Dr. Hassan's using this on my Dad...?\"\n\n\"As we speak...he's more experienced than you, of course. But you've got talent...that much I can see right now. You seem to be a natural at working with atoms and molecules. It takes a special touch...not every doc or intern can come here and do what you're doing right off.\"\n\nThe thought had been forming in the back of Johnny's mind for a few minutes. \"You mentioned that UN agency—\"\n\n\"Quantum Corps? Sure, they use the same technology. I'm not sure exactly what they use it for...we sometimes run demos and seminars for them, advise them on things we're doing here.\"\n\nJohnny studied the little device now caroming around the imager. \"I need to find out more about them.\"\n\nStefans went over to a desk and pulled out a small disk. \"Here's a little training vid we did for them...I think there's some contact info on it. It should run on your wristpad.\"\n\nJohnny pocketed the disk. He would definitely check this out. Maybe this Quantum Corps was the answer to all the questions that hippopotamus Mr. Holley had been throwing at him: you've got to make some decisions soon, son, about what you want to do with the rest of your life...Jeez. Really, Mr. Holley?\n\nA month later, Jamison Winger had been discharged from Sisters of Mercy and was back home again at the North Bar Pass ranch a few miles outside Pueblo. And Johnny Winger had applied for an interview and a test at Quantum Corps.\n\nMr. Winger sat a bit unsteadily on a stool in the barn he had converted into a lab and workshop. The bench and surrounding tables and shelves were crammed with parts, pieces of parts, loose wiring, circuit boards, and assorted actuators, motors and things that looked like disembodied legs and arms. There were even a few robot heads stashed around, leering down at them like Halloween masks. Jamison Winger was forever a tinkerer, even when he was supposed to be in rehab.\n\n\"I want you to do whatever your heart tells you to do, son... but Quantum Corps? Really? Do you even know what they do?\"\n\n\"Sure I do...they operate the same bots that the doctors used on you...the ones that fixed all your injuries.\"\n\nMr. Winger went back to a circuit board he was soldering. \"Not quite all of them...but I know you always liked bots. You realize what this means...Quantum Corps is a military outfit. You apply and get accepted and you're committed for several years, at least. Is this what you want to do? Your Mom and I always figured you'd go to engineering school, maybe Stanford, like your brother...or Cal Tech.\"\n\nJohnny sniffed at that idea. He'd fight to do anything other than what Brad had done. They were always comparing him with Brad. \"I can get my schooling with the Corps...Dad, I can go to the Academy. I'd be an officer. I'd travel around, see things. Work with bots. Grab atoms and fight off viruses, things like that. It's way better than—\"\n\nMr. Winger put down his soldering gun, flipped up his safety glasses—you could still see a scar where the melanocytes hadn't quite finished their work on his face—and said, \"Than what, son...than this? Working like a dog on the ranch—\"\n\n\"Dad—\"\n\nBut they were both interrupted by the clatter of hooves outside the barn door. Soon enough, Misty, their brown and white Arabian poked her big snout in, guided by Joanna. His sister had taken Misty out for a short ride along the lower passes.\n\nJamison Winger motioned his daughter over, after she had secured Misty and set her up with water and oats. He explained what Johnny wanted to do.\n\nJoanna just rolled her eyes. \"So what is this, some kind of glorified Cub Scouts? Do you run around in uniforms and play shoot-em-up with the bad guys?\"\n\nMr. Winger held up a hand. \"Jo...that'll be enough of that. It's what he wants to do. I just wanted to let you know...I'll email Brad...he's still stuck in residency at Stanford Medical. If John here wants to join Quantum Corps, hey, I think that's great. I just want to make sure he knows what he's getting into.\"\n\nJoanna wasn't convinced. \"Mom would never go for this.\"\n\nJohnny came back, \"How do you know?\"\n\n\"Kids, kids...no more, okay. The Old Man needs some peace around the barn...I'm working on a new flyer design...it's no bigger than a fly. John, go do your application.\" He turned to Joanna. \"And as for you, young lady, how about finishing what I told you to do...clean up the kitchen and the living room. Then you can groom Misty and Marcy. I might even go riding with you after lunch.\"\n\nJoanna agreed with that and Johnny sprinted back to the house. An hour later, he had finished his online application to Quantum Corps and submitted it. By supper time that evening—over beef barley soup and sandwiches—Johnny reported that the Corps had responded back.\n\nHe read the reply over the dinner table. \"It says 'Report by 0800 hours on 22 June, 2048 to the Recruit Processing Center, Table Top Mountain, Idaho. Bring all applicable identicards listed below, including a current healthchip and a week's clothes. Your contact will be Lieutenant Jeremy Wormer.' Dad, can I take my bike, huh... what about it, huh?\"\n\nJamison Winger sopped up some soup he'd dribbled on his chin. He crammed a square of cornbread in his mouth and chewed, thinking. You knew he was thinking when his eyebrows started canting down toward each other.\n\n\"You've finished all your projects for Ms. Gomez? Net School's done?\"\n\n\"All done. My certificate's already posted on their web site. I can print it—\"\n\nMr. Winger took another bite and sighed. \"No need. I just wish your Mom were here. You know she'd give you a big hug and a kiss.\"\n\n\"Yeah, a big wet kiss.\"\n\nJoanna could just imagine it. \"Like Misty gives you, all tongue and teeth—\"\n\n\"Okay, that's enough. Johnny, this is serious business. You're sure about this? You're sure you don't want to shovel hay the rest of your life. Or tear up all my inventions?\"\n\nJohnny knew a gotcha from his Dad when one came. There was a kind of twinkle in his eye, a slight smirky lift to his lips.\n\n\"I'm sure, Dad. I know what I'm doing.\"\n\nJamison Winger put his spoon down and arranged the utensils just so. He'd always been a neat freak but after Ellen had died—well, it was one of a lot of things that had changed around the place. \"Then, don't forget to write, son. If they give recruits the time to do things like that.\"\n\n\"I won 't, sir.\"\n\nThe next day, Johnny cinched up a bag to the back of his turbo and sped off down the twisting gravel drive of the ranch. He picked up I-70 a few minutes later and headed north for Denver. And no autoway this time either. He wanted to be in control of something...he'd always liked to be in control of things.\n\nIdaho was two states west, up through the Front Range and one state north. The trip would take the better part of two days. But he had his gear and he didn't plan on sleeping any longer than necessary, just enough to rest up from the road.\n\nTable Top Mountain, here I come. He throttled up the bike nearly to redline rpms and sped off toward the mountains, still snow-capped even in summer and silent, now beckoning him on to new and unknown places.\n\n\"Table Top Mountain\"\n\nTable Top Mountain, Idaho\n\nJune 21, 2048\n\n6:45 p.m.\n\nJohnny Winger watched as the snow-capped peaks of the Sawtooth Range drew closer. Somewhere up there, past the front range, was Table Top Mountain. He thumbed a button on his wristpad and the image popped onto his visor...there it was... at least a virtual image. The mesa did look like a giant table, poking up above the surrounding countryside like a craggy high chair. His head-up map labeled nearby mountains as the Buffalo range. There was a place called Hunt Valley. Restricted Access, the map warned him. And one town, Haleyville.\n\nHighway 21 snaked its way back and forth toward the mesa and soon he was climbing up a series of switchbacks to the summit, slightly obscured by a passing fog.\n\nWhen he got to the top, he stopped at the Main Gate and two security officers came out to check credentials and sign him in.\n\nHe was ordered to follow directions displayed for him by a palm chip the guards gave him, a chip he fixed to his handle bars...the chip would display the route to the Recruit Processing Center, which turned out to be near the center of the base, part of the Officers' Quarters compound. He passed a sign labeled Containment Center. That gave him a little chill. This is really for real, he told himself.\n\nThere was a line outside the Recruit Center. Johnny grabbed his bags and found his way, with the help of two sergeants barking out orders, to the end of the queue.\n\n\"Single file and keep your yaps shut, nogs!\" That was all they knew how to say, and they said it over and over again. The orders grew louder and louder and the line grew longer and longer.\n\nTable Top was a compact base. There was only so much room on top of the mesa so space was scarce and everything had to fit there.\n\nThe Recruit Center was in a building adjacent to the Barracks, a short walk from the PX and the commissary. Winger waited in line with several hundred others. After an hour, the doors were opened and all filed into a large assembly hall.\n\nWinger sat between a short, loud-mouthed female applicant whose name badge said D'Nunzio and a fellow named Nathan Caden.\n\nWinger introduced himself. Caden had owlish features and a black buzz cut. He was lanky, wiry and pretty much a sourpuss to judge from his expression. Johnny asked Caden where he was from.\n\nCaden had a pained look on his face. \"Bellevue, Washington,\" he said. What Johnny couldn't see was the halo that Caden had inside his skull. It was something Red Hammer required of all its agents. The nanobotic insert was in place to make sure Caden didn't do anything detrimental to the cartel. The pain on his face was real, too, but Johnny didn't know that. The halo was there to pump the neural gaps with dopamine, and suck them dry just as fast. Each cycle was just a little reminder...spasm or ecstasy, all you had to do was say the wrong thing.\n\nA voice interrupted Johnny's puzzlement. \"Marianne D'Nunzio,\" came the voice. \"Everybody calls me Deeno...if they know what's good for them.\" It was the female on the other side of Winger.\n\n\"Johnny Winger...Pueblo, Colorado.\"\n\nD'Nunzio was a trash-talking New York wisecracker, a muscle gal, into kick boxing, Tai Chi, and a lot of stretching, flexing and strutting. She cracked knuckles every time her mouth opened. \"Hey, Winger from Pueblo, Colorado...what gives with Constipated Cal next door? He looks like he just ate a whole hen.\"\n\nWinger shrugged. \"The quiet type, I guess. Hey, look, the show's finally getting on the road....\"\n\nA tall officer in a black and gold uniform bounded up to a mike on the stage. He said his name was Lieutenant Jeremy Wormer. The way he said it sounded like \"Wormy.\" Naturally, that's what Deeno D'Nunzio called him from then on.\n\n\"Wormy\" went over the day's agenda. \"After some words from General Kincade, the base C/O and Major Kraft, you'll line up outside in the lobby, by name. That's where you'll draw your quarters assignments, schedules, rules and regs book and uniforms and other gear. Then you grab a bite at the commissary, stow your gear and get ready...for a full afternoon of tests, sims and checkups. Questions?\"\n\nNobody had any. General Kincade made a few perfunctory remarks, followed by Major Jurgen Kraft. Kraft was head of 1st Nanospace Battalion. He was brusque, to the point and a voice somewhere behind Winger joked that he looked like a lion about to pounce, with his big moustache and animal glare. The recruits didn't know it yet, but Kraft was German by birth, detached to Quantum Corps from a previous billet with UNIFORCE Security – II EuroCorps and was a strict, no-nonsense, by-the-book, expect-the-impossible-everyday kind of c/o.\n\nKraft didn't speak or make an address. He growled like a lion over fresh meat.\n\n\"Recruits...there's one rule when I'm around. Don't waste my time. Give your all every minute...no less. Nobody free-lances and becomes an atomgrabber in my unit. If I give you a problem, work the problem. Don't just react. Here at Table Top, you'll hear the rally cry a lot...'small is all!' You know what that means? It means the mission comes first, before everything, even before your life. I won't have any atomgrabbers in my outfit telling me something can't be done. I don't give a damn about laws of physics or what your Mommy told you when you were six. I'm not your Mommy...forget Mommy. You come into my outfit, you will be an atomgrabber in all respects, all the time. If I kick your ass, it's not because I love your pretty little ass...it's because you need proper motivation. And with me, if it comes down to ass-kicking, you're already halfway out the door. That is all.\"\n\nThere was dead silence for several minutes. Then Wormy came up to the mike and said, \"Fall out...to the lobby. Line up and keep your yaps shut. You're nogs here. Nog stands for noggin...as in what I'll be beating on if you don't act right. Move out...!\"\n\nSo they lined up, drew their gear and went on to the commissary.\n\nCaden and D'Nunzio sat with Johnny Winger for a quick lunch of something vaguely resembling a sandwich and chips. Caden was quiet, which wasn't a problem for D'Nunzio. The New York muscle gal could talk enough to silence a battalion.\n\n\"What's with jarhead over there?\" she mused out loud, sticking her pinky in the general direction of Caden. She wiped a dollop of mustard off her cheeks. \"Still constipated?\"\n\n\"It's sticker shock,\" Winger surmised. \"Didn't you tell me you came out of some geek place in the Bay Area?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Caden murmured. \"Place called Cytek...I was a bot engineer.\"\n\n\"Bots?\" D'Nunzio said. \"This place should be right up your alley then. Except these buggers are pretty small...think you can handle this?\"\n\nCaden shrugged. He wasn't going to give the halo anything to chew on today. You had to watch it when others were around. The halo sometimes got antsy and started slurping dopamine, just to make sure everything worked right.\n\n\"We'll see,\" was all he would say. He took a big bite of the turkey and Swiss and made sure his mouth was crammed so he couldn't say anything out of line. The shivers stayed away...for the moment.\n\nD'Nunzio turned to Winger. \"Colorado, huh? You ski?\"\n\n\"I ski. What about you? What gets your motor running?\"\n\nD'Nunzio got a dreamy look on her face. \"Kicking ass. I mean, seriously, I kickbox, all types. I just love burying my feet in someone's derriere.\"\n\nWinger figured talking with D'Nunzio was like talking to one of those toy bots that always broke down...no matter what you asked it, the damn thing always spit out the same reply.\n\n\"You'll do well around here.\"\n\nThen a bell rang. Lunch was over. It was time for physical exams and tests.\n\nMajor Jurgen Kraft rubbed his jaw uneasily as the simulation continued. Johnny Winger had been inside the SODS tank for better than an hour now; that was unheard of and even the sim techs stirred nervously as the rookie atomgrabber barreled on. The last time a cadet or a recruit had spent more than forty minutes navigating the tank and not crawled out a screaming lunatic had been several years ago and that poor fellow had washed out at the end of Basic.\n\nPutting a nog into the SODS tank at this point in an atomgrabber's training was like giving a snorkel and fins to a ten-year old and telling him to swim the Atlantic. Endurance and tenacity like this just wasn't the norm inside the training battalion.\n\nKraft studied the monitor image of Winger's determined face and wondered. Just what the hell have I got on my hands here?\n\nThe senior sim tech was a corporal named Givens, short, chunky, with an annoying rapid-fire blink to his eyes. He looked up at Kraft.\n\n\"Major, you want I should pull him out now...he's already made it to the other side, beat through every obstacle I can throw at him. He's done the standard course...and then some.\"\n\n\"Where's he now?\"\n\nGivens checked the grid on his display. The SODS tank was a sphere thirty feet in diameter, filled with water, and a host of infinitesimal predators and bogeymen, enough to get any unsuspecting nog's attention when he tried to pilot an ANAD through the medium. An electronic 3-D grid pinpointed the position of the nanoscale assembler as the pilot steered it through the obstacle course.\n\n\"—I make him about two point one meters this side of the far wall...he's slogging through the whirlpool...having some trouble keeping on course, looks like. Already transited the carbene forest.\"\n\n\"Hmmpphh...\" was all Kraft could say. The carbene forest was a sleet of reactive radicals and molecule clumps that usually ate up rookie atomgrabbers for lunch...it took some serious stick work and guts to slip through the torrent of molecules that were trying to tear off your effectors left and right. \"Carbenes usually do a number on most pilots. What's his trick?\"\n\n\"I don't know, sir...Cadet Winger's just got a knack for ANAD driving, I guess. I've never seen anything like it. Should I let him go on...or pull the plug?\"\n\nKraft's eyes went from the ANAD image to Winger's face—a tight mask of concentration...hell, the kid had his eyes closed, for God's sake...he was driving ANAD by feel alone, tickling his joysticks and changing config by instinct. It was uncanny—\n\n\"No...let him be, Givens...let's see what the kid can do.\" A small crowd of techs and nogs had begun to gather around the control console outside the tank. Glances and murmurs were exchanged...and a few ten-notes as well.\n\nSODS stood for Spatial Orientation and Discrimination Simulator. Cadet Johnny Winger wasn't physically inside the sphere at all. Instead, he was in an enclosed booth on the other side of the tank, plugged into everything the ANAD master was sensing. A sleet of water molecules rushed by the assembler as it cruised on picowatt propulsors back across the water inside the tank. Once in awhile, the sim techs threw a curve at the trainee: dropped a few million bacterial spores in front of him, stirred the water into a whirlpool, discharged electron guns, zapped the tank with UV and X-rays...anything their diabolical minds and the simulation protocols could come up with. So far, Cadet Johnny Winger had fought off every predator and obstacle, even a malfunctioning horde of ANAD replicants that had materialized seemingly out of nowhere right in the middle of the tank. Winger had fought off banzai charges and flanking maneuvers and double envelopment tactics like a seasoned veteran, grappling with the herd in close combat and using his own ANAD's bond disrupters to break the back of the enemy formation.\n\nSODS was a prerequisite for any nog to get into the Corps, and stand for officer status in the newly forming 1st Nanospace Battalion. The whole world of nanoscale combat was so new that Kraft and the Corps general staff were making up tactics as they went along. SODS was supposed to measure a prospective atomgrabber's ability to discriminate and manipulate objects via remote control at infinitesimal micron or even smaller scales.\n\nFrom the beginning, Jurgen Kraft had to admit, one cadet stood above all the rest...Johnny Winger. He'd shown extraordinary skill at the sim, an unusually adept talent at visualizing and manipulating micron or nanometer scale objects in space. Hands down, the kid was destined to be the top code and stick man in the whole battalion. You couldn't make raw talent like that.\n\nIf he could pass the Atomgrabbers' Qualifying Test, that was.\n\nAnd raw is what it is, Kraft kept reminding himself. Even as he and the others watched with amazement and grudging admiration, ANAD powered its way through the 'waterfall' obstacle that Givens had programmed in—dodging loose polypeptides and radicals with aplomb—and Winger's eyes were still closed. The kid wasn't even watching his readouts. He was letting the stick talk back to him, somehow feeling ANAD through the haptic feedback and driving across the course on instinct.\n\nIt'd be easier to navigate Manhattan on a tricycle blindfolded, Kraft told himself.\n\n\"Let him head for the launch point,\" Kraft ordered. \"I want to see what this fellow's made of.\"\n\n\"Two big ones say he'll never make it,\" a voice called from behind.\n\n\"Three says he does—\" someone countered.\n\n\"Warm beer for everyone if he splats at the 'Wall',\" another one chimed in.\n\nThe wall was a solid chunk of metal dividing the tank in two. The trick was to config ANAD for denser medium, change his form so you could transit a world of crystalline planes and rigid lattices. All the while fighting off deranged nanobots programmed to chew up your effectors while you dived through. Most nogs would have rather run naked through a pack of lions.\n\nBut Winger managed to fend off the attack, whirling ANAD like a mad dervish, ripping the water with jolts of electron discharges, forming a protective bubble just long enough to fold himself for the denser wall. He squeezed the assembler down to barely a core and base, and slid sideways, twisting and turning, one step ahead of the bots nipping at his heels.\n\nIn the end, the race got everybody in the sim room cheering him on. A few moments later, ANAD sounded ahead and followed the acoustic returns right to the vacuum tube at the near wall of the tank, letting the containment chamber suck him up and put him to bed in his homeworld.\n\nKraft watched Winger's eyes pop open on the monitor...the first time the kid had looked up since the carbene forest. Not a drop of sweat on him, Kraft observed. The barest hint of a smile crossed his young face.\n\n\"ANAD secured in containment,\" Winger reported. \"I'll be ready for another run at the course as soon as he's regenerated and stable—\"\n\nKraft leaned forward to the mike. \"Uh, that won't be necessary, Cadet Winger. You've made your point. Secure the sim and extract. See you at the debrief in ten minutes.\"\n\nWinger nodded at the unseen voice. \"Copy that, sir.\" He started unhooking himself from the booth.\n\nIt had only been a few months after Johnny's father, Jamison Winger, had taken the patch treatment for depression that Johnny had seen the first WorldNet stories about the Quantum Corps, only it wasn't called that back then. United Special Operations Force or USOF was the original name of the group at the time, but it would soon evolve with a broad new mandate from the United Nations and with its new mandate, USOF gained a new name.\n\nWinger had been looking for a way out for a long time. Quantum Corps was offering scholarships, some kickass new learning patches, even technical training for cadets who applied, qualified, got accepted and could get through basic training. Winger was intrigued; he damn well had no desire to stay on at the North Bar Pass Ranch and herd cattle for the rest of his life, even if he did get to tinker with Bailey and his dad's other flying gizmos.\n\nSo Quantum Corps had been his ticket out of ranch work, and away from the deadening weight of family responsibility since his mother had died. In exchange for a six-year commitment, Johnny Winger had showed up at nog camp in a place called Table Top Mountain, Idaho, ready to see just what this new business of nanoscale warfare was all about.\n\nIt was late '48 and the first medical nanobots were just hitting the news. Jamison Winger himself had tinkered in his barn-cum-shop-and-laboratory with personal nano back in the '40s, not very successfully Johnny remembered, but enough to be intriguing, really just some jalopy barebones matter compilers he'd put together from a kit, the kind you saw in midnight specials on the Net.\n\nJohnny had been intrigued enough to check it out and when he found Quantum Corps looking for suitable candidates to get some schooling in nano theory and techniques, he didn't think long before applying.\n\nNog camp had been an eye-opener, even for an athlete like Johnny. Discipline was tough but his outdoors orientation and caving experience made him physically fit enough and he managed to ace the physical exams and the obstacle courses in PT.\n\nBut it was inside the SODS tank, working through problems at micron scales, manipulating simple assemblers, nudging atoms around like he was driving a 'dozer that Johnny really shined. Somehow, it was like he'd been born to it. Driving ANAD and grabbing atoms came naturally to him. It was like he could see all the pyramids and polygons and cones and spheres ping-ponging around in his mind's eye, like he just had a feel for van der Waals forces and bond strengths; intuitively, he knew what it took to snap a carbon ring in half and boot up an autonomous assembler and go off careening around inside a speck of matter like it was some kind of disneyland or something. Some people played the piano. Some people could throw a football seventy yards on a rope. Johnny Winger was a born atomdriver.\n\nAnd after a few legendary turns in the SODS tank, he had come to the attention of Major Jurgen Kraft.\n\nKraft was the newly appointed commanding officer of Quantum Corps' 1st Nanospace Battalion. It was his job to take the raw talent of people like Johnny Winger and Nathan Caden and Deeno D'Nunzio and shape it into a functioning combat unit, then marry their training to the technology that ANAD brought. Originally, Kraft had been a program manager for autonomous assemblers at Northgate University, where ANAD had been born at the Autonomous Systems Lab. Kraft was an early mover in the world of nanoscale mechanisms married to autonomous-agent quantum computing. He'd done several stints at Northgate and Quantum Corps had tapped him early on for field command. He'd been instrumental after that, getting ANAD technology weaponized and tactics developed enough to be combat ready. There was some urgency to this business too, as UNIFORCE intelligence had learned in early '48 that Balkistan and several other rogue nations as well as certain criminal groups were hard at work dealing in weaponized nano themselves.\n\nKraft knew it wouldn't be long before ANAD and its new crop of nanowarriors would be put to the test.\n\nIn June 2048, Jurgen Kraft had met Johnny Winger for the first time. It was not a match made in heaven.\n\nCadet Winger knocked gently on the door jamb. Major Kraft was at his desk, his shiny balding head was bent to some paperwork he'd neglected. He didn't look up, merely mumbled a raspy \"Come\" while he swore softly at the commandpad, trying to tidy up a report for the 1600 hours squirt to Division.\n\n\"Cadet Johnny Winger, sir...reporting as ordered.\" Winger hung a salute, holding his arm stiff until Kraft responded perfunctorily.\n\n\"Cadet Winger—\" Kraft folded up the c-pad and tucked it in his shirt pocket, then leaned back in his squeaky chair. \"--that was one hell of a display of ANAD-piloting this afternoon in the tank. You navigate like that all the time, son?\"\n\nWinger gave it some thought. \"That was my first time, but I've played with nano before. Most of the time, I'm a little smoother with the insert and capture, sorry, sir....\"\n\nKraft snorted. \"Most of the time?—hell, son, most of the time, the sim operators chew up nogs and spit 'em out for dirt. Where'd you learn to grab atoms like that?\"\n\n\"Sisters of Mercy Hospital in Colorado Springs, sir.\" He explained about the crash, the medical bots, the surreptitious sessions in the lab. \"I guess I had a knack, sir. Kind of took to it real quick.\"\n\nKraft was suspicious of the kid right from the start. What was Johnny Winger doing that all the rest weren't? \"Cadet Winger, it's my job to get this outfit into shape and combat-ready. I want you to be my top sergeant in the training platoon. Assuming you pass all the other tests, of course. You work with the SODS pukes, work out some routines, tests and scenarios. I want you to teach the other code and stick men how to drive like you do. Got that?\"\n\nThat was when Johnny knew he was in trouble. The truth was he couldn't really explain the talent he had. He had no words to describe how you parked ANAD on the 'back porch' of a benzene ring and used its covalent bonds to swing yourself through a sleet of water molecules like Tarzan hurtling through the trees. Nobody had taught him harebrained maneuvers like that; it certainly wasn't in Dr. Morse's book at the hospital. You just felt it and tried it and made it work.\n\nBut he couldn't very well say no to Major Kraft, could he?\n\nKraft studied Winger for a few moments. \"Colorado...you say you worked on a ranch too? Like a cowboy?\"\n\n\"More like slave labor, sir...we're just barely holding on. The Corps' my ticket out. I want to make the Corps a career.\"\n\nKraft hmmmed at that. He rubbed the back of his bald head, then fiddled with his moustache. \"There are more tests, son. And the big one at the end. Atomgrabbers Qualifying Test...AQT. Keep your nose clean and study hard. The Corps needs someone like you...badly. That'll be all.\"\n\n\"Sir...yes, sir.\" Winger fired off his best salute and hightailed it out of officers' country, finding himself outside the Ops building, fighting a stiff wind blowing across the mesa.\n\nHe pumped a fist and allowed himself a smile. This kid's got one foot in the door. Then he headed for the Recruit Quarters, stuck down at the ass-end of the BOQ. Deeno D'Nunzio and that propeller- head Caden were never going to believe this.\n\nHe found Caden stuffing socks and shoes in a small bag. His bed was made, the covers cinched up tighter than a drumhead.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" Winger asked. He slung his own rucksack onto his bunk. \"You should be studying your brains out...we've still got more classes and tests, you know...\" he checked his agenda, carefully pronounced the upcoming attraction at 1700 hours...Basic Maneuvers in Molecular Combat...\"better read up on the text they gave us.\"\n\nCaden wasn't real talkative. Which wasn't unusual for him. He was acutely aware that the rest of the training battalion felt a nog's place was with his unit. But it couldn't be helped—he had to be on time.\n\n\"Just getting my stuff squared away. Scuttlebutt says there might be an inspection before chow tonight...I wanted to be ready.\"\n\nWinger plopped onto his bunk. \"Guess where I just came from?\"\n\nCaden thought of Johnny Winger as some rube from the hills, a cowboy more at home in a haystack than a special ops outfit like the Corps. \"Don't tell me...the far side of the Moon.\"\n\n\"Nope.\" Winger described his test run at the SODS tank. \"Major Kraft said I was a natural...it was easy. I felt like I'd been doing it all my life.\"\n\n\"So you want me to kiss you or what?\"\n\n\"No, I'll settle for letting you kiss my ass...I perfumed it real good this morning...just for you.\"\n\nWith that, Caden snorted and left the bunk room. He had already scoped out a small utility room just out the back door of the recruit quarters. He ducked into the utility room and, after making sure no one had seen him, pulled out the nanoderm kit.\n\nFirst thing was to swallow the pill. It tasted like a piece of dirty sponge.\n\nThough the process occurred inside him and thus was initially invisible, Caden kept remembering stretches of a text he'd read not long ago: \"The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.\" He chuckled at the idea. Robert Louis Stevenson could never have imagined this.\n\nCaden emerged from the utility room after about ten minutes. His face was different. His whole identity was different. Outwardly, he was no longer Nathan Caden. Now, he was a young Quantum Corps lieutenant named Dirk Melhkopf, complete with a spiffy new black and gold uniform, consistent right down to the atom-and-sunburst Corps emblem on his lapels and newly minted silver bars on his shoulders.\n\nHe stuffed his old cadet paraphernalia into a small bag and left it under a drain grate in the room. Then he walked quickly, purposefully, like he knew where he was going, right to the Security shack at the Main Gate, just the other side of Drexler Field.\n\nThere was a moment's hesitation as the security guards examined his ID and checked against their records. But the guard who'd taken his ID returned it with no comment and no visible reaction that Caden could detect.\n\n\"Thank you, sir. Watch the hill...the rain this morning makes those turns pretty slick.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Caden, now 'Lieutenant Mehlkopf', said. He held his breath and didn't breathe until he was headed down the narrow twisting road from the mesa that led to Highway 7.\n\nCaden realized that his relatively uneventful exit from Table Top meant that Red Hammer's swipebot had worked perfectly, as advertised. Where the real Mehlkopf was at that moment, Caden didn't know. Probably sacked out in his bunk wholly unaware that his whole ID right down to his fingerprints, DNA and any measurable biometric had been purloined by something the size of a virus with the morals of a bank robber. He decided he didn't really care.\n\nHe was out, on time, and he needed now to make tracks. Nathan Caden had an important rendezvous that afternoon.\n\nThe small town of Haleyville was a short ride from Table Top Mountain and Caden would have enjoyed the afternoon jaunt on the turboscooter--the air was fresh with pine and birch and a steady breeze was flowing through the high mountain passes of Idaho's Sawtooth Range--but the truth was he was nervous, even anxious about the meeting.\n\nHe hadn't done exactly as the agreement called for and he knew there would be questions. He just hoped the inquiry stopped with questions. He figured he'd use the ride down to the town to come up with some answers.\n\nHaleyville was a thirty-minute ride, out the main gate at Drexler Field--Table Top's parade ground and drill field--down the winding road through Buffalo Valley to Highway 7. Haleyville Road itself ran a serpentine course, switching back and forth along the crest of the ridge overlooking Hunt Valley to the north, a narrow two-lane blacktop dark as a black bear, until it peeled off south toward the town itself. The north fork went up Hunt Valley Road, through a valley and tunnel complex the nogs had long ago called The Notch, to the Test and Wargaming Range several miles away, atop a bare mesa lost in wispy wreaths of cloud and mist.\n\nCaden enjoyed the ride on his bike as best he could, cranking the scooter up to nearly a hundred and twenty, leaning left and right as he steered on through the cool afternoon air toward the outskirts of town, and the rustic hotel known as Custer Inn, where his appointment was undoubtedly waiting impatiently. He was already late and it was getting dark, save for the bowl of stars just coming out overhead, and the faint halo glow of Table Top base behind him. He was glad the road was mostly deserted.\n\nHe didn't want to answer any more questions than necessary.\n\nCuster Inn was a faintly shabby, log and shingle mountain lodge of a hotel, nestled in the piney brow of a small turnout valley off the main road, a mile or so before Highway 7 broadened into Main Street, which was lined with gift shops, bait and tackle joints and hiking suppliers. The pale blue glow of a parasailing shop, closed for the evening, threw enough light across the road, so he found the turnoff readily enough. He tried not to let the hologram windsailers circling over the intersection distract him.\n\nHe sped down the decline toward the parking lot, and parked the scooter in the shadows, somehow feeling comfort in a cloak of anonymity. Through the windows, the bar and restaurant shone with boozy conviviality, laughter and saloon music spilling out through the front doors.\n\nHe went in.\n\nAs instructed, he went to Registration and secured a room for the night. Number 127, the Geronimo wing and would he be needing any help with his luggage, sir, we do have bellhop service--\n\nCaden ignored the offer and went looking for the room. He turned up and down several corridors, crossed a breezeway to another building and eventually stumbled upon Room 127. He unlocked it and went inside.\n\nHe waited, uneasily, for about half an hour.\n\nAs before, the knock, when it came, was soft, almost inaudible.\n\n\"Housekeeping--\" purred an accented voice.\n\nCaden let the woman in, shutting the door quickly behind him. The lights were low in the room, only a single lamp over the bed lit. The staff woman was Oriental. Chinese, perhaps, from the look of her.\n\nCaden hadn't seen her before. She was short, petite, straight black hair tied in a severe bun. Her maid's outfit was impeccable: white skirt and apron, white shoes, black and white blouse and latex gloves.\n\nShe glared coldly at Caden. \"You're late.\"\n\nThe cadet attempted a shrug, but realized it wasn't visible in the shadows. \"Couldn't be helped...I had classes, tests, then a briefing, with the Major. I can't stay long...there are more tests tonight.\"\n\nHer real name was Wei Ming, but Caden didn't know this. Nor did he ask. It was understood that identities weren't important. Only results were important. That much was understood quite well.\n\nWei Ming pursed her lips, paced deeper into the black of the room. She drew the shades aside, scanned outside, satisfied, she came back, partially into the light. Her face was a half moon, pale and unblemished as a ceramic figurine. \"It goes well?\"\n\nCaden watched her, hoping to detect something, some inkling of where he stood with them. Maybe a twitch, a clench of her fist, but there was nothing. \"Well enough. I'm doing the best I can. Some of these guys are really well qualified...there's one fellow, named Winger...he's a shoo-in. I'm not really sure where I stand today...I'm trying to find out where the cut-off is on applicants. I just need more time.\"\n\n\"Mmm.\" A question or a statement? He wasn't sure.\n\nCaden found the silences uncomfortable. \"Really, I think the mission is on track—\"\n\n\"You've had long enough.\" Wei Ming's face hardened. \"You were supposed to have stopped them before now--\"\n\nCaden knew that was coming. It was true that he was slightly behind the agreed-on schedule. He tried to put a spin on the story, a certain inevitability, factors beyond my control, I wasn't prepared for\\--but she brushed him off and went pacing again, this time more abruptly.\n\nWhen she came back into the light, her face was no longer a half moon. It had morphed into a hard, impassive mask, a carnival mask, an angry clown. Was it the light...maybe nanoderm patches changing with her mood? He'd heard of the trick--\n\n\"This is no good,\" she told him. The undulations on her cheeks and forehead seemed to settle down, take on a firmness. \"You should have taken steps by now...it was agreed. You agreed. Now we'll have to speed things up.\"\n\n\"It will take some time--\"\n\nNow she was visibly angry. The skin kneaded itself into a hard fist, making her cheeks bulge slightly like a lioness with fresh kill in her mouth. \"They're not stupid, Caden. Don't make that mistake. You've made enough already.\" She was thinking, her cheeks returning to normal planes, sleek and alabaster. \"Our efforts must be allowed to develop and expand globally. The Project depends on it.\"\n\nCaden had heard of The Project before. He wanted to ask, but he decided against it. But he was curious.\n\n\"Maybe if I knew more about--\"\n\nBut Wei Ming wasn't listening. She had new instructions from Red Hammer. \"You're being paid well for your services, Caden. Yet you continue to fail us.\"\n\n\"I can't work miracles.\"\n\n\"Leave the miracles to us. Just do your part.\" There was an unmistakable menace--had her voice changed timbre? An echo, a frequency shift, multiple tones superimposed. He shook his head. Had Red Hammer mastered that too?\n\nShe went on. \"You must sabotage any more efforts to develop countermeasures. ANAD must not be allowed to interfere with the Project. This is a critical time now.\"\n\nCaden's throat constricted. No...that was a normal reflex. He told himself that, reassured himself he still controlled his own throat muscles. \"That's not the agreement. I agreed only to provide intelligence, not perform sabotage. It's too dangerous.\"\n\nWei Ming was stern. Nanoderm rolled across her face, an earthquake of skin, reflecting her emotions. \"Your mission is changed. You'll be paid well for your work...if it is successful. We've always paid well, have we not?\"\n\nCaden nodded glumly.\n\nShe reached into her apron, withdrew a small disk. She placed it in Caden's hand. He willed his palm to remain still.\n\n\"It is a small bug. Load it into ANAD's kernel. It will weaken ANAD, subtly, a little at a time. This will make it harder for Quantum Corps to counter us. Install this at the right time--you will be signaled when. And keep sending intelligence back...the usual way.\"\n\nShe vanished from the room almost before Caden realized she was gone, blending into the shadows. He stayed a few minutes more, breathing rhythmically, testing arms, legs, facial muscles. Making sure he still had control of himself. Red Hammer did that to people. And the halo hadn't done anything. He was grateful for that much.\n\nThen he left the Custer Inn and sped back to Table Top Mountain.\n\nIt was near midnight when he parked the turbo outside the Recruit barracks. He'd missed several classes. He walked through stiff breezes across the quadrangle to the Barracks, right in the center of the base. Ten minutes in the utility room and he was Nathan Caden again, right down to the uniform and the owlish face and the bushy eyebrows. Outside his quarters, he ran into Mighty Mite Barnes, having a smoke with another female he didn't know, huddled together to shield themselves from the wind, beneath the overhang.\n\nBarnes was contemptuous. \"What happened, Caden? Hot water with the Major again? Or was this a little love trip? Bitch wouldn't put out for you?\"\n\nHer smoking companion just snickered.\n\nThe hard drive along Highway 7 had helped Caden clear his mind. He snorted. \"I left her panting...for more. She couldn't get enough of what I had.\"\n\n\"Right,\" said Barnes. Whatever the hell that was.\n\nNathan Caden threw himself into his bunk, left the lights off and tried to close his eyes and think. After a minute of enforced stillness, he got up and stood by the parted curtains of his quarters, gazing out across the lighted quadrangle of the Ops Center. A few guards patrolled the walkways. A few techs were straggling in, reporting for day shift inside the Tank. If he stood to one side of the window, Caden could see the low floodlit dome of the Containment Facility, a few hundred meters south from the barracks compound. More security. In the distance, perched on an outcrop of the mesa that overhung Buffalo Valley, was the parade ground and Drexler Field. He checked his watch, noted the time and date. In less than two weeks, the next round of nogs\\--Corps cadets--would be tossing their tasseled caps into the air, finishing Basic training and feeling like prisoners let out on furlough. But Caden didn't know that.\n\nCaden snorted, remembering every sweaty minute of the last few weeks. Atomgrabbing 101 and all the quantum physics you could ever want. Not to mention Phys Ed and the obstacle course every afternoon. Thirty-mile hikes through the snow and sleet of the Buffalo Mountains. Survival training. Escape and evasion tactics. Molecular fencing and the Sim Tank, where malevolent instructors fitted you out with gizmos that repelled and attracted just like real-life atoms. You bounced around like a tennis ball for several hours, usually knocking yourself senseless in the process. He shook his head. Maybe it had been a big mistake after all.\n\nNathan Caden stood at the window, fidgeting with the frayed ends of the curtain draw. He knew he had to act. He knew he had to do something.\n\nDisable Quantum Corps for three more days.\n\nThere was only one possibility and Caden recoiled from it. But he didn't really have a choice. He was in tight with Red Hammer, too tight by now, and if he politely declined, he'd be terminated faster than he could say quantum.\n\nThe only sure way to bollix up Table Top Mountain for three days, maybe longer, was to get inside the Containment building and release ANAD. Config the bugger for max replication and let the swarm loose on Table Top Mountain.\n\nThe Big Bang scenario they'd simmed so many times...this time, played out in real life.\n\nWith any luck, he might not even survive the onslaught.\n\nCadet and applicant rankings were left to speculation for the next few days. More tests came and went. More physicals. Bizarre pokings and proddings and probings were made into every conceivable orifice, even into brains and places the cadets didn't know they had and couldn't name. Classes and briefings were held, on subjects ranging from Molecular Tactics to ANAD Ops to Quantum Engineering and Containment protocols, all of it designed to give instructors a feel for which cadets possessed the right stuff to be atomgrabbers and which did not.\n\nAs the days went on, Johnny Winger felt that he was somehow in a place he had always been destined for, without knowing it. Nathan Caden struggled, though no more than any other cadets. But some applicants had the knack for visualizing things nobody could see and manipulating and maneuvering things at the scale of atoms and molecules. It took a certain kind of wacky brain to do that. And Winger knew he would likely have plenty of company, what with Barnes and M'Bela and D'Nunzio and others doing almost as well as he.\n\nThen came the announcement everybody had been expecting, dreading and waiting for. The details of the Big Test.\n\nMajor Kraft gathered all applicants in the recruits' assembly hall and gave them the good news.\n\n\"Listen up boys and girls...I called this briefing— by the way, around the Corps, we don't have meetings, we have briefings, so you hayseeds remember that. I called this briefing to give you a heads-up on how we end this recruiting cycle. There's a big test coming. Tomorrow. Starts at 0700 hours. It's called the Atomgrabbers' Qualifying Test. It's like a big game...a war game. You'll all be given roles and assignments and rules of engagement. Then we turn the buggers loose. All you have to do is help our troopers fight 'em off, contain 'em and put them back in the bottle. If you fail, at any time, you wash out. You're outta here. You work with your team mates, follow orders, do the job and put the critters back in containment, and I mean the right way, maybe we'll consider your application. Questions?\"\n\nThere was dead silence in the hall.\n\nKraft allowed himself the barest hint of a smile, peeking through his Black Forest of a moustache. \"Very well. Pick up your mission and assignments disk on the way out. Units and team leaders will assemble in this room at 0600 hours tomorrow morning. Have a pleasant evening.\"\n\nLieutenant 'Wormy' then bounded up onto the platform and bellowed out \"Dismissed!\" He sounded like a cow in heat.\n\nWinger walked out with D'Nunzio and Oscar M'Bela, back to their quarters.\n\n\"What do you make of this qualifying test, Wings?\" D'Nunzio asked. \"I heard the same scuttlebutt as you. Separating the boys from the men...and the girls from the men?\"\n\n\"Yeah, probably...I never heard anything about a wargame. I guess they want to see what we've learned, how we apply it, how we react under pressure.\"\n\nOscar M'Bela pulled alongside the two, fondling some laibon healer trinkets in his hand. The cadets had taken to calling Oscar M'Bela 'Witchy.' That was because he was Congolese by birth, Hutu by tribe and really spiritual in his outlook. M'Bela found spirits in everything and Winger had long since gotten over the spectacle of Witchy talking to ANAD units in containment as if they were tribal brothers, even rubbing amulets, colored stones, and cowry shells. He had all kinds of rituals and beliefs, explaining there wasn't much difference between the spirits of the forests and autonomous nanorobots. \"You can't see either one but you can sure make enemies of one if you don't treat them with respect.\" Nobody could argue with that.\n\nThe three of them spied Nathan Caden nearby. He wasn't heading their way, in the direction of the barracks known as Galland Hall, the recruit barracks. Instead, he was cutting a path across the front of Barracks Row, heading for the domed Containment building, situated behind sturdy barriers to the south. Or maybe he was heading for the Infirmary...it was nearby too.\n\n\"What's the matter, Caden? Lost your way?\" D'Nunzio cackled. \"You pee on the lawn over there, the bugs'll have a feast on that little wang of yours.\"\n\nNearby cadets chuckled at that but Caden paid them no attention.\n\n\"Just making a little delivery before turning in. Have a cold one for me, you creeps.\"\n\nHe pressed on toward the shimmering barrier of the security field around the Containment center, a linked nanomesh of bots that kept out flies, mosquitos and nosy cadets with equal aplomb.\n\nIn his pocket, the disc that Wei Ming had given him felt like it weighed a ton.\n\n\"Table Top Mountain\"\n\nTable Top Mountain, Idaho\n\nJune 28, 2048\n\n7:45 a.m.\n\nThe day of the AQT finally came and it was a bitch. Johnny Winger continued to do well in all the tests of dexterity and skill at nanospace orientation and nanobot maneuvering tests. M'bela and D'Nunzio and Mighty Mite Barnes did well enough.\n\nThey spent time wargaming scenarios and trudging up and down windswept mountain passes out in the Hunt Valley range, fending off attacks and assaults and all kind of wicked tricks the instructors pulled out of their feverish minds, all the while hurriedly looking up procedures and rules and tactical moves in their eyepads, portable handbooks they were supposed to rely on for proper responses to enemy actions. They all knew, and they all reminded each other, that they'd be graded on that as much as cleverness and results.\n\nMajor Kraft didn't want any freelancing in the AQT.\n\n\"Okay, troopers, here's the situation.\" Kraft diagrammed the wargame on a board. \"A large city is threatened by an enemy force, basically held hostage to their demands. Quantum Corps gets the call and an ANAD Detachment is formed. If the enemy's demands aren't met, the enemy will execute a Big Bang and destroy the city and all the inhabitants. ANAD Detachment is tasked with penetrating the city, conducting recon on enemy dispositions and preventing the Big Bang from playing out.\"\n\n\"What about rules of engagement, Major?\" asked Johnny Winger.\n\n\"I'm getting to that. In this wargame, which is called 'Nanowarrior,' ANAD Detachment will test the new trooper-embedded ANAD system. That means launch, deployment, engagement and recovery tactics. This scenario is designed to test how well that works, what you've all learned the last two weeks. As far as rules of engagement go, close-quarters combat is permitted, including all swarm tactics of evasion, deception, swarming attack and so forth. But no bodily penetration is allowed.\"\n\n\"Too bad,\" said Deeno D'Nunzio. \"I was looking forward to grabbing somebody's gizzard and shaking it down.\"\n\n\"To help the simulation, we've had ANAD swarms at work out at the Hunt Valley range for the last several days, assembling fake buildings and other urban infrastructure. By now, it ought to look pretty real.\" With a few taps on his wrist keypad, Kraft sent the scenario details and rules of engagement to every nog's's crewnet. \"There...now you've got the facts. Questions?\"\n\n\"Just one, Major.\" It was Witchy M'Bela. \"Isn't Mr. Caden supposed to be here? We're short a trooper.\"\n\nKraft look annoyed but figured the question had merit. \"Good question, Mr. M'Bela. Now you know why we run wargames. Mr. Caden won't be joining us today. He reported sick at the Infirmary overnight. So now you're short a trooper. Life's like that. Work out the requisite tactics and complete the mission.\"\n\nFor years, Table Top Mountain had been portrayed as looking like the palm of a hand. If that were so, then the ridges of mountains radiating out from Table Top were the fingers. Following the same analogy, Hunt Valley was a narrow plateau surrounded by steep cliffs roughly between the thumb and index finger of the hand that was Table Top.\n\nThe Valley was home to the outdoor wargame and test range, where nanoscale assemblers could be let loose in the wild, under some semblance of control. Indeed, one of the advantages of having a valley as the test range was the ability to throw a simple containment shield over the grounds, in the form of electron guns and even crude but effective nanobotic barriers, able to blunt the effects of all but the worst types of accidents.\n\nJohnny Winger led his training detachment of twelve troopers from the belly of the liftjet and hiked up a short cliff to a ledge overlooking the sim city below, affectionately known as \"Valleyville.\"\n\n\"DPS...\" he called over to a cadet named Sheila Reaves. \"We'd better do a little recon here so we know what we're dealing with. Get Superfly up and sniffing around...perimeter of five hundred yards radius.\"\n\n\"I'm on it.\" Reaves and the DPS2, Cadet Chandra Singh, unloaded two of the micro air vehicles and fired them off. Moments later, the twin entomopters were airborne at altitude, cruising on picowatt power cells, their articulating wings spinning at thousands of rpm. They careened across the valley and the rooftops of Valleyville while Winger directed the rest of the deployment.\n\n\"Full hypersuits?\" Cadet Al Glance didn't relish the prospect of getting in to the heavy, boosted exo-skeletons they'd all trained with, but they did offer the best protection if things went downhill.\n\nWinger thought. \"We probably should, given the threat. But I'd like to know more about what the enemy's up to.\" Winger was like that...going on hunches, ignoring the book when the situation seemed ripe. It drove Kraft and the others crazy but more often than not, Winger's hunches had been right. The hairs on the back of his neck were his warning system. At the moment, they were behaving. \"Get the suits powered up but leave 'em off...for now.\"\n\n\"You smell something fishy, Wings?\" asked Mighty Mite Barnes. Barnes was unstowing the HERF gun mounts, getting the radio-freq weapons ready to go.\n\n\"Maybe...\" Winger said, scanning the terrain around Valleyville with his binocs. A faint shimmer pulsated and flickered around the nearer buildings of the fake city. \"Get those HERF guns spooled up right away...and site them along axes parallel to the main streets. Oh, and Mite, put one up there, sited away from the 'Ville.\"\n\n\"Away from the city?\" Barnes asked. \"Are you--?\"\n\n\"Yeah...I'm not forgetting who the OpFor is today....if I know Dana Tallant, she'll have 2nd Nano all bug-eyed and ready to slam us from behind before we know what's what. That'd be just like her.\" Winger had jousted with Cadet Dana Tallant repeatedly in classes and exercises during the last week.\n\n\"What about ANAD?\" asked Glance. \"Think we ought to wake him up, get him going?\"\n\nWinger held up a hand, for silence. The hairs on the back of his neck had begun to prickle. \"Al, you and Gibby come with me...we're going to check out something down there. I think that shield's just for show and the enemy wants us to come that way. The rest of you stay put...and keep your eyes open. You get any kind of tickle or whiff from Superfly, blast away with HERF. That'll buy you some time.\"\n\n\"But, Wings—\" Reaves was uneasy with the maneuver. \"--if we get fragged with 'bots here, we've got no defense beyond HERF and some coil-gun rounds. You've got the, er, the ANAD master....with you.\"\n\n\"I'll only be gone a few minutes and we'll be in contact. With ANAD right here—\" he patted the containment capsule on his web belt, \"we can deploy and engage faster now. You'll be covered, no matter what.\"\n\nReaves looked doubtful. It was against all doctrine to split up the detachment like this. Normally, ANAD would be contained in a TinyTown pod with the detachment as it deployed, not off following some wild hunch.\n\n\"If you say so.\"\n\nWinger took a small detail and left the ledge, creeping down a rutted gully until they were flatfooted on level ground just beyond the city buildings. The shimmer of a nanobotic shield flickered like summer fireflies a scant fifty feet away....supposedly the OpFor's barrier to any probing from this sector.\n\nYou had to think like the enemy, know your enemy and what they liked to do. In this case, the enemy was Dana Tallant's 2nd Nanospace Training Battalion. Winger smiled as they positioned themselves to do a little more reconnoitering around the edges of the shield.\n\nHe knew Dana Tallant like a kid sister.\n\nValleyville was essentially a shell of a town, literally. Over the last few days, Major Kraft had seen to it that swarms of nanoscale assemblers had put together a small group of buildings and streets, enough to resemble a small town. Only the exteriors had been assembled, like a Hollywood backlot. Inside their shells, the buildings were empty space.\n\n\"Wings, we going to breach this thing...or just check the perimeter?\" It was Gibby, working the interface unit.\n\nBut Winger didn't reply. Instead, he held up a hand and the detail halted, right outside the keening whine of the nanomech barrier. Something had tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. He spoke into his helmet mike.\n\n\"DPS, you got anything from Superfly yet?\"\n\nSheila Reaves' voice crackled back. \"Funny you asked, Wings...right when you called up, 'Fly gave me a tickle of something...I don't know what it is...maybe nothing—\"\n\nWinger froze. With hand signals, he ordered the small detail to about-face and head back up to the ledge.\n\nGibby was curious. \"What is it?\"\n\nWinger was already halfway up a gully, hauling himself as fast as he could. \"Just a hunch...come on, troops—\"\n\nAnd that's when all hell broke loose.\n\nThe scream of Sheila Reaves was the first thing everybody heard over the crewnet.\n\n\"AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!.....Get the HERF gun!!!—\"\n\nThough he was still fifty feet below the level of the ledge, Johnny Winger could feel the swelling thermal bloom of a Big Bang attack long before he could see it. Overhead, sparks and crackles of phosphorescent blue and green stitched across the tops of the hills, as a swarm of nanobots descended on the detail, replicating madly, mindlessly, replicating in exponential overdrive, swelling and rolling and smothering like a slow-motion fireball of an explosion.\n\nThe sheer suffocating weight of the 'bots as they divided and expanded made the air tingly and alive with pinpricks of flame.\n\n\"Come ON!\" Winger yelled. Gibby and M'Bela and the rest of the detail scrambled after the Winger as he hauled and kicked and hoisted himself across ravines and clefts, climbing furiously toward the epicenter of the attack.\n\nAt the top of the ridge, Sheila Reaves managed to get the HERF gun turned around and boresighted into the teeth of the nanomech gale, cycling the action, as she motioned the others to get down.\n\n\"Cover yourselves...I'm gonna fry these suckers!\"\n\nThe rest of the detachment took cover immediately and Reaves gritted her teeth, wincing and gasping for air as the 'bots smothered her from every direction. Jeez, this feels worse than the Tank...it's supposed to be an exercise, isn't it? With her last ounce of strength, she lit off the radio-freq cannon and dove headlong to the dirt. She buried her face and screamed at the top of her lungs to equalize pressure in her head, trying to ignore the stings and bites of the 'bots on her back.\n\nThe thunderclap deafened the hillside as a pulse of rf hurtled through the air. Winger waited a second for the wave of heat to wash over him, then he heard it: the clattering of nanomechs, momentarily stunned, falling to the ground like dead leaves in a stiff wind.\n\n\"Let's GO!\" he yelled, as he bolted up the hill. He cycled the comm circuit to the ANAD master now ticking over inside the containment pod. ANAD, get yourself ready...we're going into action 'soon as I get to the top...prep for deploy, safe all effectors, spool up propulsors, and orient yourself for launch...\n\nDeep inside the containment capsule on his web belt, the Autonomous Nanoscale Assembler/Disassembler was readying itself for combat.\n\n***deployment complete...all effectors in launch position...my processor is updating now...config state is combat-ready***\n\n\"That's...affirmative, ANAD...\" Winger grunted, as he ducked and scrambled forward. \"Max rate rep...give 'em hell, ANAD! Launch now...launch and engage!!\"\n\nThe force of the launch momentarily caught Winger off balance and he stumbled and fell to his side. The sudden whoosh of the pressure drop and the sting of the torque against his waist made him wince, but it couldn't be helped. The ANAD master rocketed out of containment and immediately set to work replicating.\n\nMoments later, the two swarms collided head-on across the top of the ridge, in pulsating rhythms of iridescent blue, as vast, unseen armies engaged overhead.\n\nAnother drone-snap of radio frequency waves rolled across the hills as the HERF gun discharged. Winger got on the crewnet...he had to warn the DPS techs to keep the air clear for ANAD.\n\n\"Sheila! DPS1...kill the HERF! Kill the HERF! ANAD needs a free hand to fight—\":\n\nReaves' voice was strained...she was being 'consumed' with mechs even as she burrowed ever deeper into the dirt behind the liftjet skids. They started to tickle, then burn a little. Emasculated bots but they could still bite....\n\n\"Sorry...we're being...eaten...alive...up here!!\"\n\nWinger pressed a button on his wrist keypad and instantly, soundings from ANAD filled his helmet eyepiece. The view was surreal, swirls of motion embedded in bubbles and polygons and octahedral lattices as the assemblers collided and grappled.\n\n\"Gibby, I've got ANAD on viewer...I'm taking command, changing config--!\"\n\n\"Got it!\" Gibby came back. Gibbs was fully qualified to run the interface controls and immediately dialed up the same view. But ANAD was Winger's baby now, he figured. Better to let the two of them duke it out with the enemy 'bots.\n\nI sure hope they know what they're doing, Gibby thought. He raised his head up and got a mouth full of mech debris, stinging sleet against his face. He shielded his face and squinted into his eyepiece, the same view Winger had.\n\nFunny how combat looked when you were the size of a few atoms. Gibby remembered seeing some old vid...a movie they used to call them—of the U.S. Navy fighting in the Big War...the Second Big One. Frogmen fighting underwater. That's what nano-combat looked like on his eyepiece viewer. Nothing but foam and bubbles, only it wasn't bubbles he was seeing. It was stringy chains of atoms that looked like tree ornaments...bulbs on a filament whipping through space, cleaved by things that looked like spiky maces and octahedral balls and weird pyramids and every shape imaginable, all careening along as if blown by a hurricane.\n\nEven as he watched, he heard Winger's voice over the crewnet. \"...looks just like an ANAD clone, Gibby...I'm closing in—\"\n\n\"Easy...it could be a diversion.\" He watched as the image steadied. Several dozen feet away, perched below the precipice of a ledge, Johnny Winger was driving ANAD toward the nearest of the enemy mechs. Even as ANAD surged forward, Gibby saw the enemy maneuvering to strike. \"Look out! He's changing position...all of 'em, coming at us—\"\n\n\"I see it!\" Winger yelled. His fingers flexed but there was no need...no keyboard was needed with quantum coupling. \"ANAD...move all defensive systems to attack position!\"\n\n***ANAD complying...casting off hematite shield...grabbers to attack position...electron lens primed and ready...let me at 'em!***\n\nWinger smiled as ANAD sped forward. Like a five-year old, heading for the playground. Over the last few training days, he'd developed a weird, almost brotherly relationship with ANAD. On the eyepiece imager, the enemy master grew and retracted appendages and surface structure with blazing speed. The outer membrane of the mech seethed with motion, as atoms and clusters of atoms twisted, bonded, twisted again, rebounded, broke apart, recombined, straightened, undulated and whirled.\n\nThe gap between them vanished and ANAD grappled with the nearest mech. Other mechs swarmed to the battlefield. The imager screen shook with the collision, then careened sideways.\n\nAfter only two weeks at Table Top, combat at the scale of atoms and molecules seemed like second nature to Johnny Winger. From his first days as a nog, he'd had an uncanny ability to grab atoms and sling molecules. It was like he'd born to the world of van der Waals forces and peptide chains, like he was a natural. Now, with the quantum coupler, he no longer even needed an IC-man or keyboard to drive ANAD. He could do it by thought alone.\n\n\"ANAD...change config now...go to prime three and extend all carbenes!\"\n\n***ANAD changing config now...going to prime three...hope you know what you're doing, Boss***\n\nA few moments passed, as the new instructions were executed by the ANAD master and all daughter assemblers. Gibby watched the imager view as it vibrated with the ferocity of the attack. Chains of oxygen molecules, pressed into service as makeshift weapons, whipped across the screen. The air was soon choked with cellular debris. Even as Gibby hunkered down against the lee of the hillside and watched, the enemy mechs replicated several times in response, adding new molecule strings. In unison, they stripped off electrons to make an armor shield of highly reactive chlorine atoms.\n\nGibby had seen the tactic before...in class. In seconds, ANAD was nearly immobilized by the chlorine sheath.\n\n***I'm losing structure...reconfiguring...shutting down peripheral systems...before it's too late***\n\nHoyt Gibbs crawled on his belly along the hillside, until he had reached Winger. Over the shriek of nanomech hell, he yelled in the Winger's ear: \"Got to disengage, Wings...emergency truncation! Everything not critical...we've got to get ANAD out of there before we lose him!\"\n\n\"I'm not giving up yet!\" Winger yelled back. \"ANAD...execute config change...prime five!\" He was damned if he was going to let Dana Tallant and any swarm of two-bit knock-offs beat ANAD.\n\n***trying to comply, Base...but internal bonds on main body structure are weakening...I'm losing all grappling capability***\n\nJohnny Winger gritted his teeth and lifted his head up into the swirling maelstrom of swarming 'bots, letting the sleet sting his face with a million razor cuts. He squinted into the teeth of the gale, shaking his fist. \"Not this time, Tallant! Not this time...ANAD, I'm taking over...I'm taking command—\" He tapped a few strokes on his wrist keypad and moments later, the ANAD master was in his hands.\n\n***I'm all yours, Base...but I'm losing it...losing it fast...now fine motor control down to half, attitude and orientation, propulsors, sensors, molecule analysis, replication...***\n\nWith ruthless efficiency, the enemy master whirred and chopped every device ANAD could generate. ANAD had tried to counter, replicating probes, inserters, jaws, cilia, pumps, blowers—but it was no use.\n\nGibbs couldn't bear to watch the viewer in his eyepiece. Tiled along the edge of the swirling froth of combat, status icons were showing up red everywhere. They were losing ANAD in the face of the OpFor assault and somewhere deep inside Valleyville, Captain Dana Tallant was no doubt smirking with satisfaction.\n\nJohnny Winger set grimly to work, now taking full command through his keypad of the master ANAD assembler. Somehow, he had to wriggle out of the encirclement and outflank the enemy formation.\n\nOverhead, the air was electric with an impending thunderstorm, and with the shriek of nanomech combat, staticky pops and bursts danced like St Elmo's fire across the heads of the half-buried cadets. A rolling, roaring gale of mechs swept across the ridgeline as the two armies tore at each other with ferocious momentum. Winger felt a few drops of rain on his arms. He looked up, saw low clouds scudding in from the west. Lightning flickered behind the clouds.\n\nDipole charges. Polarity columns. The wind was picking up. And it gave him the barest hint of an idea.\n\n\"Executing quantum collapse...NOW!\" Come on baby, get small for me...get real small...\n\nEnveloped by the swarming and smothering enemy formation, the ANAD master collapsed what was left of its structure in an explosive puff of atom fragments. Base, effectors, probes and grapplers, even the core shell surrounding its central processor, went hurtling off into the air in a big bang of spinning atom parts.\n\nIt was a desperate, drastic, last-chance maneuver. It wasn't in the book. But he'd discussed the possibility with M'Bela one night over beers at the canteen and he figured he knew what he was doing.\n\nInstantly, ANAD seemed to disappear. For all intents and purposes, ANAD had effectively vanished in a cloud of blurry quantum waves.\n\nLess than three minutes later, making its way on quantum wave propulsors, ANAD straggled back toward the containment capsule, its nanoprocessor still dogging electron states to bring the nearly invisible device home.\n\n\"Not just yet, ANAD,\" Winger muttered. He tapped out a few more commands on his wrist keypad. \"You're getting back into the fight...in disguise, this time.\"\n\n***ANAD to Base...there's not much left...need a break here...need some time in containment to regroup***\n\n\"No can do, ANAD,\" Winger said. Now he heard the rumble of thunder. The storm front was getting closer. He finished the command sequence and squirted it through the coupler. \"ANAD, get ready to look like dust particles!\"\n\n***aw, c'mon, Boss...have a heart...I'm beat up and really hurting down here***\n\nBut Winger paid no attention. Receiving the command, ANAD executed new config changes, grabbing atoms as best he could to cloak his processor in the structure of a simple dust mote. Moments later, from Winger's position just below the top of the ridgeline, an unearthly tornado of dust suddenly erupted into the very midst of the enemy swarm. The tornado accelerated upward, expanding outward like an inverted funnel, filtering into the swollen clouds scudding over the mountains. Inside the clouds, water droplets began to grow.\n\nFor many minutes, nothing seemed to happen. The enemy mechs continued replicating, smothering the troopers caught at the top of the hill. But gradually, the pressure of the assault seemed to lessen. A fierce driving rain soon lashed the hills.\n\nSoaked but finally able to breathe, Mighty Mite Barnes managed to drag herself to her feet, helping Sheila Reaves do the same. They both lifted their faces to the stinging rain.\n\n\"What the hell's going on?\" Reaves asked, shielding her eyes from the downpour. \"Is there a front coming through?\"\n\n'I don't know,\" Barnes said, looking around uneasily. She closed the faceplate of her helmet to keep dry. \"But I got a feeling about this...something tells me Wings is behind this.\"\n\nAll along the tops of the range, the swirling squall line expanded outward, leaping amid crackles of lightning from one hilltop to another. The rainstorm soon collided with the swarm of OpFor mechs, joined moments later by a deluge from the skies. Seams of electrical discharge split the air like curtains of fire, showering sparks and pops everywhere.\n\nOne by one, the cadets of the Detachment rose up, squinted through the rain and stood dumbfounded at the scene.\n\nBit by bit, the OpFor swarm was enveloped and vaporized by the rolling thunder of the oncoming weather front.\n\nAnd that was when Major Kraft and the referees decided to stop the wargame.\n\nAn after-action review was held at the Ops center at Table Top. Cadet Dana Tallant, leader of the OpFor detachment, glared across the review board, actually a holographic model of the gaming range complete with Valleyville and all the terrain features. She glared at Johnny Winger with barely disguised fury.\n\n\"It wasn't fair, Major. It was beyond the rules of engagement. OpFor...my detachment of 2nd Nano troopers, were blindsided.\"\n\nWhile the troopers bickered back and forth, Kraft read dryly from the official findings of the referees:\n\nThe dust storm seeded the nearby clouds, accelerating the formation of superheavy raindrops. Electrical discharges from breaking atomic bonds among the OpFor swarm enhanced the precipitation event, due to the bipolarity of water molecules. A rain event, basically a thunderstorm, was created by the well-timed replication of ANAD assemblers, assuming the structural form of molecules of silver nitrate and oxides of silicon...basic dust from the local terrain. The precipitation event and locally intense lightning discharges destroyed the OpFor swarm in minutes.\n\nIt was, in every respect, a tactically unique response to an enemy assault.\n\nMajor Kraft put the findings down and glared at Johnny Winger. \"I suppose you can explain this, Mr. Winger?\"\n\nWinger cleared his throat. He averted his eyes from Dana Tallant. She didn't like to lose any more than he did.\n\n\"I wasn't sure what would happen, Major. We've experimented, me and ANAD, a little...seeding clouds to see what would happen. I didn't think it was out of bounds. The rules of engagement—\"\n\n\"—say nothing about this...I know, I know.\" Kraft sighed. \"Mr. Winger, at least your solution to the Big Bang scenario has the virtue of never having been tried before. It was....how shall we put it: unique. And definitely not in the book.\"\n\n\"It was a stab in the back, Major,\" Tallant insisted. She glared over at Winger. \"To modify the weather in the middle of a wargame is like changing the rules in the middle of the game. Begging the Major's pardon, but this invalidates the results of the exercise.\"\n\n\"On the contrary—\" said Dr. Irwin Frost, who was also in attendance, \"modifying weather using swarms of assemblers is quite interesting...a solution I would never have thought of. Johnny, how did you think of this?\" Frost came from Northgate University. He had fathered the original ANAD several years before.\n\nWinger shrugged. He looked over at Dana Tallant. \"I honestly didn't know what would happen when it started raining on the OpFor mechs. I figured it was worth a try.\"\n\nKraft made a decision. \"Cadet Tallant, technically you're right: modifying the weather during the wargame isn't covered under the rules of engagement. The referees stopped the exercise because I ordered them to. The technique is unproven and unpredictable, it seems to me, despite the results today. But we need to explore it further. That's why we're here in the first place: to develop tactics and techniques to employ ANAD in our mandated missions.\" He looked at Winger with something like a mixture of annoyance and admiration. \"And to test cadets' abilities to follow orders, effectively employ ANAD and demonstrate sound tactical judgment, something any atomgrabber needs. It seems that Cadet Winger, despite obvious shortcomings, has demonstrated that he can employ ANAD effectively in a combat scenario.\"\n\nWinger shook his head. After days of practice and a few late-night 'conversations,' he felt he knew the little assembler as well as he knew any of the nogs at Table Top. \"It was strange at first, not having to drive ANAD with the control panel.\" He flexed his fingers. \"Me...I learned the old fashioned way...how to park an ANAD inside a benzene ring, how to snap a covalent bond...with my hands on a stick.\"\n\nKraft cleared his throat. \"Cadets, you've all done better than I expected on the AQT. But I'm not running a kindergarten here. This is a combat outfit and we've got missions to perform. If Cadet Winger does anything else to jeopardize the mission, he'll be personally answering to me. Is that clear?\"\n\nWinger nodded quickly. \"Perfectly, sir. We won't let you down, Major.\"\n\n\"We?\"\n\nWinger smiled tentatively. \"Me and ANAD, sir.\"\n\nKraft groaned and ended the briefing. \"Decisions on who makes the cut and gets an invitation to nog school will be coming out tomorrow. These decisions are always hard for me. You're a good class, if a bit over enthusiastic. Some of you will be disappointed. Don't take it personally. You can always apply next year. For now, lifters will take you back to the Mountain. Liberty is authorized at 1800 hours tonight. It ends at 2400 hours, promptly. Assemble tomorrow at Galland Hall at 0800 hours. That's when the announcements will be made. Dismissed.\"\n\nCaden waited until just before 1800 hours, right at shift change for the Containment techs and the guard force, and slipped out of the Barracks. He took the nanoderm again, waited ten minutes in the john and took a quick peek in the mirror. Now, he was 'Lieutenant Mehlkopf' again, in all but name, right down to the ID. He walked briskly through a chill and biting afternoon breeze, noting the pale orange of the sun already rolling around the horizon like a beach ball, and made the facility in five minutes. He flashed his badge and 1st Nano ID, expecting to gain admittance easily enough but the guard noted something on his display and asked the Lieutenant to wait one, while he reset the bioscanner.\n\n\"Only take a minute, sir...probably a glitch in the system. Your ID's been flagged for some reason....\"\n\nThat's when Caden jammed a PKR coilgun into the guard's ribs and fired. He'd already set the weapon to 20K--enough to fry bacon at a hundred meters--and the guard flew backward like a ragdoll, landing hard on the cement walkway outside the security shack. Caden quickly pocketed the weapon, cycled the bioscanner and dragged the guard back in by his feet. He propped the poor fellow up so the retinal sensor would see his dilated eyes and popped the SCAN button. This time, the access controller read the guard's already-permitted retinal pattern.\n\nBehind them, the main access door hissed open. Caden dropped the guard to the floor and hustled inside, working his way methodically through more doors and hatches, following the route laid out on his eyespecs.\n\nCaden cycled the final hatch door, using his own retinal scan as ID. Inside Containment, he no longer cared if the logs showed unauthorized entry or not.\n\nIn a few minutes, none of that will matter, he told himself. In a few minutes, the whole base will be swarming with ANAD, out of control and replicating at maximum rates.\n\nInside the Level 4 compartment, he burst through the final door and saw the containment unit, a squat gray cylinder about the size of a coffin, parked in the middle of the chamber on an isolation pad, tethered by thick ganglia of wires, cables, hoses and flexpiping.\n\nHe checked his watch, noting only a minute had passed since he had fried the guard outside.\n\nThe cavalry will be arriving any minute now, he muttered to himself. He figured he had about three minutes to do the job. Grimly, he set to work.\n\nEven as he deftly navigated the cylinder's systems, he felt fiery pinpricks all over his neck and back. Mosquitoes? Couldn't be. He slapped and patted at the welts that were forming on his skin. What the hell was that? Felt like a bee sting. But there couldn't be any such thing inside Level 4 containment.\n\nOuch, dammit!\n\nHe slapped at his neck again, as another fiery bite made his skin crawl.\n\nOne by one, he addressed the cylinder's systems, preparing this version of ANAD for combat launch at max rep. He toggled through each stage of the prep and deploy sequence: nutrient flow, power, monitoring--always one step ahead of the unit's self-protection circuitry until, finally, the cylinder was ready, ANAD was powered up and primed for launch, ticking over inside the chamber like a bomb ready to explode.\n\nHe scrolled through the config templates, resetting each Security delay, until he came at last to the Big Bang, the max rate replication command. Still, stinging and slapping at bites and welts--what the hell is that?\\--he authenticated each stage with his own ID, and drilled down to the final command.\n\nThen, he knew what it was. More bites and stings, getting worse. Caden backed away from the cylinder controls for a moment, and ripped off his jacket and shirt, tossing them into the corner. Wei Ming had been right. Somehow, some way, he'd been tagged. Security mechs were probably crawling all over him. Most likely, they were already in the air, circulating through the Containment center like miniscule guard dogs. Now that he was inside Containment, somebody was working the swarm to stop him, trying their best to distract him from what he had to do.\n\nIt won't work, guys. Not this time.\n\nHe sent the final command, and at the same time, released the last valve isolating ANAD inside the cylinder. There was an audible whoosh! as a slug of high-pressure air and fluid sprayed into the compartment. In seconds, a visible cloud had darkened the ceiling, as ANAD exploded in max rate replication, grabbing atoms furiously to build and replicate structure. Like its namesake, the Big Bang was an explosion of nanomech division, a runaway freight train consuming everything in its path.\n\nCaden ducked, still slapping and clawing at the pinpricks of the Security mechs eating his skin, and scuttled back out of the compartment. He ran headlong through the locks and hatches and exited the Containment building--right into the waiting arms of the Security detail that had already been alerted.\n\n\" Nathan Caden,\" came a voice from the detail, \"--you're under arrest. Please step away from the door and keep your hands where I can see 'em, sir. I'm just going to--\"\n\nCaden wasn't dumb but spinning away from the detail to charge at the officers wasn't the brightest thing he had ever done.\n\nHe lunged at the lead officer, a Major Lofton from Base Security. The officer fired back, all of them now, discharging a MOBnet ejector just as the Caden came into range. It stopped Caden cold, the linked mesh of nanomechs forcing the man steadily to the ground. He squirmed a bit, but gave up, knowing it was useless.\n\nMajor Lofton was there too and he bent down to give Caden a good once-over. The cadet was bound up nice and snug; the more he struggled, the more the mechs squeezed back. A simple command would have snapped the mechs tighter still, like a miniature clampdown.\n\nSuffocate the slimebag, Lofton thought. He could have done it with a clear conscience too. But then a million questions would have gone unanswered.\n\n\"Look out!\" a voice cried out.\n\nLofton looked up just in time to see the gray cloud of exponentially replicating ANAD mechs boiling out of the Containment building like a tornado. The Security detail, with its prisoner firmly in tow, scattered in all directions.\n\nAlarms and sirens blared out across the mesa and Table Top Mountain was quickly in an uproar. Caden was immobilized and dragged off to a bunker in the basement of the Ops Center.\n\nLofton fled too, but diverted left along the grassy quadrangle, toward the hangars and the ordnance and mission prep complex. That's when he saw the trio of lifters from the Hunt Valley wargame range touching down at the North Lift Pad. He changed direction, tried to wave them off.\n\n\"It's a Big Bang!\" he heaved out. \"Get back...get the hell out of here!\" Cadets began dismounting, confused, a little awed at the sight. They weren't sure what was happening. Then D'Nunzio saw the boiling cloud.\n\n\"Look! Look there...mechs...it's a bang!\" They ducked and weaved and dodged others as troops streamed in every direction across the grounds. Loudspeakers thundered across the quadrangle.\n\n\"All hands...this is a Code One alert, CODE ONE ALERT...all hands, man your stations. Repeat...CODE ONE ALERT!!\"\n\nJohnny Winger sized up the situation. Major Kraft wasn't with the cadets. Lieutenant 'Wormy' was in command of the cadets. Winger ran up. \"Sir, it's just like what we simmed at Hunt Valley...it's a Big Bang...we know how to handle this—\"\n\nWormy looked like he was about to cry. \"You're just cadets...get to your Barracks and stay there until further orders. We can handle this!\"\n\n\"But, sir—\"\n\n\"Now!\"\n\nWinger and Tallant and D'Nunzio bit their tongues and started hustling toward Galland Hall.\n\n\"They need containment out here!\" Winger yelled. \"Mobile containment--\"\n\n\"--and magpulse weapons!--\" added Barnes.\n\nAsked later to explain his motivations for disobeying Lieutenant Wormy's orders, Johnny Winger could only fall back on that moment in Net School when the principal Mr. Costner had come into the lab to tell Johnny his parents had been in car crash. You made whatever decision the moment required, whatever decision life threw at you. He hadn't waited for permission to leave school then. He hustled out of school without a moment's reflection on whether it was permitted. He had to be there, at the hospital in Colorado Springs...right now. It wasn't a conscious thought. It was gut logic. Sometimes, your gut knew more than your brain.\n\nThat was his explanation for the official inquiry.\n\nSo Johnny Winger veered off from the rest of them and took a shortcut toward the Ordnance/Mission Prep building. They'd just kitted out for the AQT test that morning at O/MP.\n\n\"Where the hell's he going?\" D'Nunzio asked. Nobody replied. But they all changed course and followed.\n\nThey raced into the mission prep hall, ignoring fleeing guards and gathered every tech they could find.\n\nFrom inside the bunker, Johnny Winger watched the ANAD swarm, replicating out of control, boiling across the lifter pads of North Field, a gray fog swelling and expanding into every corner of the base complex. His stomach turned at the sight. Even as he watched, fleeing troopers were caught in the swarm and went down, engulfed and consumed like the raging wildfires that sometimes swept through the Buffalo range of southern Idaho.\n\nIf we don't contain it soon, the swarm will spill out of the base and head off into the hills. The entire state could be at risk, parts of Canada too, he realized.\n\nAlready the thing had swelled to dimensions that no MOBnet could handle.\n\nIt was the very same nightmare scenario they'd studied and discussed and theorized in class for the last two weeks. An effective defense had never really been demonstrated. Now, it was all too real...and heading right for them.\n\nWinger knew they'd need every defense they could devise. MOBnet and any other shielding they could find. Counter-nanoswarms, if they could be launched and programmed fast enough. Atmospheric manipulation. Magpulse weapons. All the gadgets they'd learned about at Table Top. And probably more.\n\nIdeas flew around the mission bunker thick as dust.\n\n\"Somehow, I've got to get to the master,\" Winger said. \"If I can get a signal through that swarm, I'm sure I can counter-program...maybe stop the replication.\"\n\n\"Too dangerous,\" Deeno D'Nunzio said. \"Swarm's too thick, too active. You'd never get close enough. And you're just a cadet, like Wormy said. These troopers know what to do.\"\n\n\"Do they? Look at them...they're running in every direction. You heard what the instructors said. Even Ironpants Kraft said it: the Big Bang has no effective counter. You have to stop it before it starts.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's what the book says.\"\n\n\"Hey, we can do this...we can help. You want to be atomgrabbers...now's your chance. We know what to do...we've had all the classes, the exercises, the tactics and strategy workshops. Come on...put your brains together!\"\n\n\"Maybe...\" Cadet An Nguyen was thinking out loud, \"maybe...if we stun the swarm a few times.\"\n\n\"You mean with HERF?\"\n\nNguyen was scribbling a sketch on a pad he had dredged up. \"Sure...like this. Get some guns along the perimeter of the base...here, here and here--\" he X'ed off proposed locations on his crude sketch. \"Do it quick and pump a few billions watts of RF across the mesa. Crossfire. That should slow down the rep, and maybe, just maybe give Base Security and the troopers time to get a signal through.\"\n\nThat got D'Nunzio to thinking. \"You've got to locate the master first. It should be somewhere near the center of the swarm, but it's in motion.\" Deeno shook her head. \"How the hell do you find him?\"\n\nWinger was thinking fast. \"I've got an idea. I had to dump our ANAD's control software back at Hunt Valley. I dumped the whole control system and piloted the master myself. That must mean this ANAD's on autopilot right now, stuck in overdrive, with no higher functions or safeties to override the rep command,\" Winger told them. \"This replication's like a mindless spasm. And what do we do with spasms?\"\n\n\"Shock therapy?\" D'Nunzio wondered.\n\n\"That's where your HERF guns come in. Blast the swarm with RF, just long enough for me to find the master and dump the control system again. If I can do that, before replication starts up, I can take control of ANAD and drive him back to containment. Soon as I sever the control links to the swarm, magpulse guns can clean up the mess. At the same time, I can pilot ANAD out of the swarm and back to re-capture.\"\n\nD'Nunzio and Nguyen looked at each other, then at Winger and the other troopers who had started to gather around them in the bunker.\n\n\"Where do we get guns? They don't give cadets like us guns.\"\n\nOne of the troopers was a sandy-haired fellow, clad in ballistic vest, fresh off the firing range downstairs. \"I can get guns for us...I know the codes to the Armory.\"\n\n'What are we waiting for?\" D'Nunzio asked.\n\n\"Let's go!\"\n\nIt took seven minutes for Sheila Reaves to radio her plans to Security and to the base commander. Fortunately, the HERF guns were stowed in Mission Prep; the troopers who'd taken cover there helped break out the gear. Volunteer details were formed up and five HERF units were trundled by hand to opposite ends of Table Top's broad mesa. In the center of the mesa, the ANAD swarm continued swelling, rolling like a carnivorous mist across the grounds, filling the grassy swards between the Barracks, boiling westward toward the liftpads and lifters parked in revetments, seeping and crawling and flowing over all obstacles toward the Ops Center and Drexler Field.\n\nThe details had to hurry. If the swarm spilled off the top of the mesa and ran down the mountainside into Buffalo Valley and the ravines radiating outward from Table Top, the whole of southern Idaho would be at risk. Already, the Governor and the National Guard had been alerted to prepare to evacuate nearby towns.\n\nIn less than ten minutes, Reaves and the HERF guns were ready, powered up and humming.\n\nWinger was in contact with General Kincade, Quantum Corps' commander at Table Top.\n\n\"All units ready, sir. I'm inside Mission Prep, with a portable IC unit strapped on.\" He didn't mention that he was only a nog still applying to join the Corps.\n\nKincade's face was grim on the vidlink. The General was with his staff, bottled up in the Emergency Action Center seventy feet below Main Ops.\n\n\"Blast 'em, son! Blast the sonsofbitches to kingdom come!\"\n\nWinger needed no further encouragement. He checked with Reaves one last time.\n\n\"Weapons are enabled, Wings!\"\n\n\"Fire!\" Winger yelled. \"Fire all around, all units! Full bore! Let 'em have it!\"\n\nA series of sirens warbled across Table Top, warning everyone to take cover.\n\nThe whole mesa seemed to vibrate as the first pulse shot out, squeezing the air with a thunderclap of heat. A searing wave passed through the Mission Prep hall as the bubbles of radio waves expanded outward, pulverizing everything in their path.\n\nThe first pulse was quickly followed by several more, each discharge hammering the ground with an invisible fist of energy. Johnny Winger screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to equalize pressure inside his head. His eyes and lungs burned. His skin crawled with fire, then tingled and crackled....\n\nNOW! NOW was the moment....\n\nHe raced out of the hall and ran a swerving, zigzagging course across the open ground between the barracks and the Ops Center. The air seemed alive, thick with mechs, and he waved his arms wildly over his head, beating through the swarm. All about him, droplets of something fell from the sky. He stumbled and nearly fell, then scrambled to his feet, plunging into the thickening mist, until alongside the road from the BOQ to East Gate, he felt he was near the center of the swarm. Mech debris clattered and fell from the sky, tickling, brushing, crawling at his skin, but he ignored it and tapped out commands on his wristpad furiously, trying to link up with ANAD.\n\n\"Come on, buddy, come on...come on...where the hell are you--\"\n\nAlready, the effects of the HERF pulse were beginning to wear off. His skin crawled with living fingers, tickling, pinching, as the swarm began to recover from the blast, replicating new mechs to replace those the RF waves had shattered.\n\nCome on...come on...in desperation, he opened voicelink.\n\n\"Hub to ANAD...Hub to ANAD....is anybody there, anybody in charge out there...where the hell are you, buddy?--\"\n\nJust then, a staticky hiss in his ears formed a recognizable word.\n\n\"---emory register--\"\n\n\"ANAD...is that you?\"\n\nThe whisper grew marginally louder. Sirens nearly drowned out the words. \"ANAD...ANAD to Base.....it's...this is....controls are...I'm weakened....can't activate--\"\n\n\"ANAD...is that you...ANAD...this is Base...listen to me...ANAD, can you hear me?\"\n\nThe whisper was weak, but there. Winger waved blindly, trying to get the sirens shut off, trying to stop the next HERF pulse. \"ANAD...listen to me...command override...Excalibur alpha x-ray...command override...Excalibur alpha x-ray--\" He hoped the reset command would work. He'd just told ANAD to shut down all comm links and effector controls...he hoped. And if anybody asked how he knew that, his lips were zipped. They didn't teach cadets things like that at Table Top.\n\nThe swarm was reconstituting again, he could feel fiery pinpricks on his back and neck. Got to hurry now!\n\n\"ANAD...execute omega one...full shutdown...all links, all effectors, all sensors and probes...ANAD, I'm coming to you...I've taking over--\"\n\nHe toggled a sequence of buttons on his wristpad, snapped his eyepiece into place and, to his surprise, ANAD had responded, giving him full control of his core processor and all functions.\n\nThe nanomech voice link was weakening. \"ANAD...responds....comm one and comm two down...effec--disabled...main core idling...ANAD to Base...please...hlp me\\--\"\n\nThe eyepiece image was like driving a hundred miles an hour through a Colorado sleet storm. Polygons and spheres and snakes and cubes streamed past at high speed. For a moment, Johnny Winger was disoriented.\n\nWhere the hell am I? Can I even do this? For some reason, a vision of Misty and Marcy huffing and snorting at the barn door came to mind...that and hay. Lots and lots of hay—\n\nNo way am I going back there.\n\nHe tickled the tiny joystick on his wrist and powered up ANAD's propulsors.\n\nJust have to dead reckon my way back to the barn today, he mumbled to himself. At least, comm links are down. That'll shut off the replication.\n\nBut he hadn't counted on Reaves firing off the HERF guns again. The swarm had partially reconstituted again, and the pulse, when it came, was like being caught in a tidal wave.\n\nThe link to ANAD stayed active and Johnny Winger felt himself scattered and tumbled and jostled and swept along in a great river, surging through, vast forces tearing at his limbs, punching him in the chest, ripping his head open. His own body's natural instincts forced him into a curled, face down position, as the thunderclap rolled across the base. But even as he was still and face buried in wet grass, the dizzying, caroming ride continued.\n\nHe was linked in with ANAD and seeing what the mech sensed as the RF wave expanded through the air above Table Top. For a few moments, he blacked out, then staggered back to semi-consciousness and stabilized himself with judicious pulses on his propulsors.\n\n\"ANAD,\" he muttered to himself, \"let's go home.\" Momentarily, he backed out of the ANAD link and radioed back to the Mission Hall, telling Reaves to shut down the HERF guns. \"I'm driving ANAD right now...and neither of us wants to go through that again!\"\n\nGradually, the swirling, driving sleet of oxygen and hydrogen atoms slackened off and he felt he was making headway on half-propulsor power. Molecules of dust and debris thickened the air, making navigation dicey, but Winger quickly recovered his atomgrabber's instincts and piloted ANAD through reefs and shoals and rapids of whirling, churning atoms and molecules, feeling his way through the sleet, fighting stiff currents as he hacked his way back toward the Containment building.\n\nIt was doubly disorienting, when he physically stood up, peering outside his eyepiece, stumbling through the remnants of the gray mist, tripping over half-eaten corpses in the grass, then looking back through the eyepiece at the cyclone of atoms ANAD was battling through. Two different worlds in the same view: macro and nano, humans and atoms, and the rules were different in both.\n\nJohnny Winger wobbled and stumbled his way back to the Containment building like a drunken sailor, with troopers and technicians giving him a wide berth everywhere along the zigzag track.\n\nHe made it to the complex in half an hour, with Security and other troopers holding open doors and clearing a path all the way into the Level 4 Containment compartment.\n\n\"ANAD....we're here. You're home,\" Winger muttered. He stepped delicately over wires and cables and hoses and carefully piloted the nanomech toward the vacuum tube being held out by Moby M'Bela.\n\n\"Only a few feet more,\" Moby told him.\n\nWinger switched his vision back and forth, eyeing the position of the vacuum tube with his eyes, then peering into the eyepiece to maneuver ANAD through a maelstrom of oxygens and nitrogens swirling in every direction. He'd safed and stowed most of the mech's effectors, so ANAD was rudely bounced and jostled with every pulse of its propulsors.\n\n\"Hey...watch it,\" came the plaintive voice through Winger's earphones. \"I'm not made of rubber, you know--\"\n\n\"Sorry.\" Winger squinted at the eyepiece view, trying to match up what he was seeing with the macro view his eyes gave him. In time, a yawning chasm gaped before him, a canyon dark and turbulent with whirlpools of molecules spinning at the mouth. With a start, Winger realized it was the head of the vacuum tube. He safed ANAD for transit and let the suction of the whirlpools pull him in. The view in his eyepiece spun crazily and he rapidly became dizzy and disoriented.\n\n\"Looks like you're just about home, little guy,\" Winger said.\n\n\"ANAD signing off....down the hole!!\" came the reply.\n\nWinger disconnected himself from ANAD control and let Moby M'Bela do the rest.\n\nThe pressure pulse almost snapped the tube right out of his hands. In an instant, the Autonomous Nanoscale Assembler/Disassembler had transited the tube and plunged into the soothing homewaters of the Containment cylinder.\n\nM'Bela grabbed the end of the vacuum tube out of the air and stabbed a button, sealing the tank. \"Got him! Safing now...pressure coming up, temps okay, pH in the green. ANAD's sealed and safe.\"\n\nWinger was already powering down his wristpad interface controls. \"Whew...I'm glad that's done. What about the rest of the base?\"\n\nMajor Lofton was there as well, along with Dana Tallant and Gibby. Lofton was patched in to Reaves, who was still stationed at the northeast wall, manning one of the HERF guns.\n\n\"Next pulse in ten seconds, gentlemen. Get yourselves ready.\"\n\nBy the time it came, Winger and the others had rolled the Containment cylinder against one bulkhead of the compartment and draped heavy tarps over it, trying to protect ANAD as much as possible from the RF wave.\n\nThe thunderclap came, rattling everything inside, breaking a few pipette racks on the wall, and knocking gear off a cart. The heat wave followed, searing the air like a hot desert wind. Winger and the others had dropped to the floor and made themselves small, covering their heads against falling debris.\n\nOver the next ten minutes, the HERF guns fired three more times, shattering the mesa with RF waves, frying the rest of the ANAD swarm into loose atoms. Lofton took a message on his talker, and breathed an audible sigh of relief.\n\n\"All call,\" he reported. \"All stations reporting in. Swarm density has dropped to a tenth and falling. It's safe to move outside now. Security details are securing all gates and checking the perimeter. Damage control parties are reporting in. General Kincade's coming topside.\"\n\nJohnny Winger cautiously got to his feet. He looked at Dana Tallant. Her face was red and peeling.\n\n\"You look like a broiled fish.\"\n\nTallant grinned. \"I probably smell like one too. Guess we'd better find Major Kraft...and Wormy...and let 'em know what we did.\"\n\n\"Later,\" Winger muttered, though it was tempting. \"First, we'd better make sure ANAD's okay. And get started helping clean up this place.\"\n\nMoby was feeling the scaly skin around his eyes. \"That was too close--\" he stopped, hearing the distant crackle of more magpulses, smaller pulses, clearing the air across Table Top Mountain. \"They didn't teach us anything like this in Molecular Tactics.\"\n\nOutside the Containment building, mech debris littered the grounds, along with pieces of siding and broken glass, roof shingles and twisted, charred pipe and wire. The entire base looked like a great cyclone had swept through, which in effect, had happened. The cyclone of the HERF guns had collapsed the last of the ANAD swarm and swept the debris over the side of the mountain.\n\nFor the time being, the threat had been neutralized and the swarm contained. A Big Bang runaway replication had been avoided and the town of Haleyville and the surrounding Idaho countryside had been spared the worst of the onslaught.\n\nBut it had been close. Too close.\n\nThankfully, casualties were light. Four fatalities had been suffered, both in the first minutes of the assault, all of the troopers caught out in the open, near the north lifter pads. The shredded remnants of their corpses had already been removed and taken to the Infirmary for identification.\n\nJohnny Winger brushed himself off and left Containment, heading back to Galland Hall and the recruit center with Tallant and M'Bela.\n\n\"What's going to happen to Caden?\" M'Bela asked. The three of them picked their way through piles of debris being collected by sweepbots along the walkway. The bots scuttled back and forth across the grassy sward between the Ops Center and the barracks, shoving piles of metal and glass and brick into bigger piles for removal.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Winger replied. \"Major Lofton said he had been taken to the stockade for now. General Kincade's already scheduled a hearing for 1100 hours. Rumor has it CINCQUANT himself is coming in.\"\n\n\"Whatever happens,\" Tallant said, \"he deserves it.\"\n\nBefore they could make their way to Galland Hall, Winger got a call on his wristpad. It was Major Kraft. The Major's face was grim and hollow; it had been a long night for everybody.\n\n\"Report to the Ops Center at once, Cadet Winger. There's a pre-hearing investigation going on right now. General Kincade wants all the facts laid out before the charges against Mr. Caden are made. Security Branch needs a statement from you.\"\n\n\"On my way, Major.\" Winger peeled off and headed briskly across the quadrangle now humming with sweepbots and troopers collecting scrap and debris. A light curtain had been set up around a small patch of grass near the entrance. More bots crisscrossed that patch in systematic sweeps--forensic bots looking for evidence.\n\nJohnny Winger wondered what would happen to Nathan Caden now.\n\nHe found Kraft in a makeshift office in the first floor canteen inside Ops, coordinating recovery efforts, trying to track down troopers and cadets. Talking to faces on his wristpad, comms in both hands, he waved Winger to a nearby seat. As he waited for the Major to finish, other troopers scurried about, setting up desks and tables, adjusting gear. A temporary recovery command post was being set up and Ironpants was at the center of a vortex of frantic activity.\n\nFinally, Kraft got a minute. He glared at Winger with something like a mixture of disbelief, annoyance and wonder.\n\n\"First of all, son, I should thank you for all you've done here at the Mountain. Running headlong into that swarm, somehow getting control of ANAD—I guess I shouldn't ask how you did that\\-- driving the master back into containment...that took guts. That was insane. You saved a lot of lives by what you did...even if no cadet in the history of the Corps ever tried a harebrained scheme like that before.\"\n\nWinger didn't know exactly how to respond. Was he being dressed down? Congratulated? Studied like a lab specimen? All three?\n\n\"Sir, I saw a need and I knew what to do. I knew it was a risk. But given the situation—\"\n\nKraft held up a hand, listening out of one ear to a report on his wristpad. \"That was Major Lofton. They've got Mr. Caden MOB'ed and well secured in the brig. Lofton's already done a little digging...it seems that Caden is not what he seems to be. He's got connections we can trace to Red Hammer itself, right out of Hong Kong. Somehow, that didn't come up when he applied...or maybe we've got security problems here.\"\n\nWinger was puzzled. \"Sir, what do you mean MOB'ed?\"\n\n\"Mobility Obstruction Barrier. Nanomesh enclosure. Caden's physically secured like a fish in a net. You mean there's something you didn't know about what we do around here...I'm stunned.\"\n\n\"Sir, I hope I didn't step out of line. All I wanted to do was help out.\" He took a deep breath. \"And to join the Corps, like the ads say. 'Get small and be a '.\"\n\n\"Well, I could say something, son, but General Kincade himself is on his way down here right now. I think he's got something he wants to ask you.\"\n\n\"Table Top Mountain\"\n\nTable Top Mountain, Idaho\n\nJune 29, 2048\n\n8:45 a.m.\n\nGeneral Wellman Kincade had been commander in chief of Quantum Corps Western Command's base at Table Top for nearly two years. He thought he had seen everything. But never in his illustrious career with UNIFORCE and the Corps had he ever run into anyone quite like Cadet Johnny Winger.\n\nKincade was tall, ruddy and vaguely British in bearing, said to have a dry sense of humor, though Johnny had no desire to test that proposition. He had a white moustache; in that, he lacked the bushy monstrosity that adorned Jurgen Kraft's lips and chin. Kincade's was tidy, sandy-blond with a touch of gray. Like a museum poster, Winger figured. Indeed, Kincade was the embodiment of such great 'Limey' commanders as Montgomery and Kitchener, men he admired and often patterned himself after.\n\nKincade had invited Johnny Winger and Major Kraft to his eighth floor office. Both stood at attention, while Kincade made a few remarks. They sounded prepared.\n\n\"We've not had a cadet quite like you at this base before, Mr. Winger. What you did, under extraordinary circumstances I might add, was remarkable. I therefore must commend Major Kraft here for recognizing such, shall we say, exemplary talents, in one of his raw recruits. The Major here tells me you would still like to join the Corps...perhaps even make it a career?\"\n\nWinger swallowed a bit of pride and said simply, \"Yes, sir. I tried to act properly, consistent with our training and the qualities Major Kraft has been teaching us. I saw the problem, knew how to deal with it and I acted, sir. If I was hasty in not asking permission, or checking with the Major or Lieutenant Wormy...er, I mean Wormer, sir—\"\n\nKincade granted a slight smirk. \"It's okay, son...everyone calls him Wormy—\"\n\n\"Sir, I recognize I did not have authorization to act as I did. If I overstepped my position, I'd like to—\"\n\nKincade waved him quiet. \"Nonsense. You demonstrated resourcefulness, courage, resolve...all qualities we're looking for here at Table Top. The same qualities that General Sir Bernard Montgomery demonstrated at El Alamein, when he smashed Rommel and the Africa Corps. Quantum Corps needs people like you. However, I must ask: do you still want to join? Do you still want to be an atomgrabber? You've got what it takes. But you'll have more inquiries to go through over this incident. Then there's nog school...it won't be easy for you. We're training a new breed of warrior here, Winger. There are new enemies out there—Red Hammer for one, you know about them already—new menaces, new tactics to develop. There are no experts when it comes to doing operations in the world of atoms and molecules.\" Kincade leaned back in his chair, lit up a pipe. He chuckled. \"We're making this up as we go along, isn't that right, Major?\"\n\nKraft looked like he had indigestion. \"Yes, sir.\" The very idea of making up stuff in a combat outfit never sat well with his Prussian sense of military bearing. But this was the Base Commander. And Cadet Winger was...what, exactly? A boy wonder? A major pain in the ass? The best damned recruit he'd come across in two years? A natural at atomgrabbing? \"Sir, we are always refining our strategy and tactics as conditions dictate.\"\n\nKincade smirked. \"Well said, Major. Well said.\" He fixed an even stare at Winger. \"How about it, son? You ready for all this?\"\n\nWinger took a deep breath. He thought about his mom Ellen, all the times she had yelled at him for trying to fix things about the house, things that didn't need fixing. \"That boy has glue on his fingers...he gets into everything, always wandering off with pieces and parts of things....\"\n\nHe thought about his dad Jamison Winger. Recovered from the accident, but not really. There were scars there you couldn't see. Scars that would never heal. And Johnny knew the North Bar Pass ranch wouldn't recover either. It was only a matter of time. He just didn't see himself running a ranch. He needed more.\n\nHe needed something like this.\n\n\"Where do I sign, sir?\" he finally said.\n\nA broad smile broke out over Kincade's ruddy face. \"Excellent, son. First, there is a little matter of this—\" he held up a leather-bound booklet, embossed with the sunburst and atom emblem of Quantum Corps. \"I want you to have this—you more than deserve it.\" He handed the booklet to Winger. \"Go ahead... open it.\"\n\nWinger flipped the cover up. It was a medal, an award, lying curled up on a bed of black velvet. The medal gleamed in the light. It was a stylized atom, with a nucleus of black onyx and orbiting electrons of silver, whizzing around as if the thing were alive. The whole works were attached to a thin gold chain.\n\n\"Major, if you would—\"\n\nKraft swallowed audibly. It was clear he wanted to be anywhere else but here. He took the chain in his hand and draped it solidly around Johnny Winger's neck. The thing was heavy and Kraft fiddled with it until it hung down straight.\n\nKincade stood up and shook hands with Winger. \"It's called the Order of Merit...the commendation reads 'for meritorious service above and beyond what is expected...for selfless dedication to duty and to his fellow troopers...for exemplary conduct in the face of mortal danger...' and so on. You get the idea. We don't give this to recruits. But Major Kraft here related what you did yesterday. I got approval from CINCQUANT himself. That's the Commander in Chief of Quantum Corps, at UNIFORCE Headquarters in Paris. Congratulations.\"\n\nThey shook hands. Kincade scowled momentarily at Kraft, and the Major offered his own hand as well.\n\n\"Thank you, sirs. Do I have to sign something now...to join up, I mean?\"\n\nKraft said, \"You do, indeed. Here—\" He pushed an official looking form into Winger's hands. \"Recruit application. The disk there will have all the other paperwork. Stick it in your wristpad and follow the instructions. Get it back to me right away.\"\n\nWinger took all the forms and disks. \"I will, sir...right away.\"\n\nKincade was more solemn now. \"Once you sign your life away with all that, you're in, son. You're one of us.\"\n\n\"Sir--\" Winger looked up, pocketing all the forms. \"I'm looking forward to it...this is what I need to do with my life right now. I'm proud to be a part of all this.\"\n\nKraft said, \"Good, son. Good. Sign there and welcome to Quantum Corps. Get a good night's sleep too. Your first day of nog school is tomorrow.\"\n\nWinger swallowed hard.\n\nHe was now an atomgrabber. He rolled the words around in his mouth for a moment and decided he really did like the sound of that.\n\nAbout the Author\n\nPhilip Bosshardt is a native of Atlanta, Georgia. He works for a large company that makes products everyone uses...just check out the drinks aisle at your grocery store. He's been happily married for 25 years. He's also a Georgia Tech graduate in Industrial Engineering. He loves water sports in any form and swims 3-4 miles a week in anything resembling water. He and his wife have no children. They do, however, have one terribly spoiled Keeshond dog named Kelsey.\n\nFor technical and background details on his series Tales of the Quantum Corps, visit his blog at http://qcorpstimes.blogspot.com. For details on other books in this series, visit his website at http://philbosshardt.wix.com/philip-bosshardt or learn about other books by Philip Bosshardt by visiting www.smashwords.com.\n\nDownload the next exciting episode of Quantum Troopers from www.smashwords.com. It's called \"Nog School.\" Available in February, 2016.\n\nTo get a peek at Philip Bosshardt's upcoming work, recent reviews, excerpts and general updates on the writing life, visit his blog The Word Shed at: http://thewdshed.blogspot.com.\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n### Celtics Rising\n\n### Birth of an Oracle\n\n### Leo Charles Taylor\n\n### Published by Jokat Publishing\n\n### Copyright by Leo Charles Taylor 2015\n\nISBN-13: 978-1497530003\n\nISBN-10: 1497530008\n\n### Chapter 1\n\nA gust of wind whipped around the restaurant's balcony, and as it did Arinai's hair flew into her eyes. She reached up and pulled it away before grabbing her coffee off the wrought iron tabletop before her. Taking a sip, she looked over the flower-covered railing to the cobblestone road just ten fifteen feet below and watched the pedestrians as they scurried through the market. One person had fish while another had flowers, and not too far away was a long line of people standing outside of the Starbucks.\n\n\"Long line,\" she said, nodding her head to indicate her meaning.\n\nThe man before her turned his back and examined the area with a quiet discernment. Nodding his head, he brought his attention back to her.\n\n\"It was the world's first Starbucks,\" he said, matching her cavalier attitude. \"It tends to attract a crowd.\"\n\nArinai had to chuckle quietly.\n\n\"It's a long ways from the markets I remember from when I was a child,\" she said wistfully as her mind cast back through the centuries.\n\n\"This smells better,\" her companion replied dryly before continuing his meal.\n\nArinai had to agree, nodding her head before bringing her full attention to her lunch companion. He was rugged in appearance, brown haired with wide shoulders and a permanently stern expression that told people to leave him alone. When he stood, he towered over her, commanding a dominating position; she could easily understand how he had survived so many battles.\n\n_He must still have a hundred pounds on me_ , she thought as she watched his tendons flex along his arm while he used his utensils. She had to smile wryly as she remembered those muscles, and the man's stamina.\n\n\"Camulas?\" she asked. \"Are you going to be this dour the entire time we're in Seattle?\"\n\n\"I'm dour all the time,\" he replied as he scanned the crowd.\n\nHe was looking for potential threats. Arinai knew it, but allowed him his hobby. It made him happy. At least, in an odd way it did. She believed he didn't know how to do anything differently, and Arinai understood that happiness was often found in the things that bring us comfort. For him, this was comfort. It was familiar. Besides, it was very difficult for Camulas to completely relax even in the best of times, and their current situation was not about to help him with that particular endeavor. Resigned to that fact, Arinai put on a warm smile, took a deep breath, and sat back only to stare at her dinner companion.\n\n\"It's been a long time,\" she said with a nostalgic expression. \"It's good to see you again.\"\n\nCamulas became confused for a second. It appeared as if he were about to say something but his mouth clamped down. His eyes went downward and he became pensive, turning deep into himself as he considered her words. Eventually, he nodded his head and returned his eyes to her. When he did, Arinai could see the depth of soul in him. Those eyes held so much pain that she often pitied the man. She never told him that. He would see it as a weakness and would hate her for it.\n\n\"It's good to see you too, Amhránaí,\" he replied sincerely, and Arinai had to smile. It had been a long time since she had heard that name, and it pleased her to hear it now.\n\nA shudder swept across the balcony, passing over the occupants like a light breeze on a spring day. There was no motion to it, and no one else noticed it, but Arinai's eyes widened as she felt the brush of emotion mixed with the elements of Mother Earth. It was a cool breeze on a warm day mixed with excitement, and Arinai's smile widened as she simply enjoyed it for a moment.\n\n\"Do you feel him?\" she asked Camulas.\n\nCamulas didn't reply, but Arinai could tell by the man's furrowed brow and darting eyes that he felt the mood. Camulas was searching, but Arinai knew the object of the search was miles away. Somewhere up on the hill, perhaps.\n\n\"Come on,\" she said excitedly and practically leapt from the table. \"If he's using his powers we'll be able to track him.\"\n\nShe didn't wait for him, or even bother to pay the bill, choosing instead to head to the stairs at a jog, slowing down only enough to traverse the wet steps without harming herself. When she reached the Alley with its wine shops and upscale restaurants, she turned about to get her bearings. Once she had them, she headed uphill to the main streets.\n\nA quick glance behind her told her that Camulas had not followed, but when she spied him not too far distant, she understood his play; he had simply jumped the balcony, an idea that hadn't occurred to her. Now, his long strides allowed him to cover greater distance at a seemingly slow pace. Arinai nodded her head, pleased that he was following, and began to run up the hill.\n\n\"Come on, old man,\" she shouted back with glee. \"You're going to miss him.\"\n\nIt didn't take long to reach the main roads, and as she glanced about for the best way to continue her journey, Camulas arrived at her side. Arinai was surprised: he didn't even appear winded.\n\n\"Hey,\" she said, nodding her head across the way to a mounted policeman. \"How about a horse?\"\n\nCamulas was not amused and glared at her sideways.\n\n\"I've had my fill of horses,\" he replied.\n\nThen, with no sense of self-preservation, he stepped into the street, forcing a cab to apply its brakes rapidly. Once the vehicle was stopped, he moved to the side, opened the back door, and pulled out the passenger in the back seat, tossing him unceremoniously to the ground. Camulas, not one for chivalry, entered the cab and left the door open so that Arinai could follow.\n\nThe policeman across the way turned to move in their direction, but a quick burst of thought directed towards him and the man picking himself off the pavement calmed everyone's nerves long enough for Arinai to enter the cab and shut the door.\n\n\"Up the hill,\" she ordered the driver.\n\nThe driver appeared confused and was about to blurt something out, but a quick flash of Arinai's mind had the man complying as if nothing were out of the ordinary.\n\n\"You're still good with that,\" Camulas replied with respect.\n\n\"In small doses,\" she said, \"but don't push it.\"\n\nCamulas nodded his head with understanding as Arinai gave the driver directions. They went farther up the hill, excited to be on the hunt, but it didn't take long before frustration set in.\n\n\"Damn,\" she said. \"Can you feel him anymore?\"\n\n\"I haven't felt him since the market,\" Camulas replied as he scanned the people along the streets.\n\n\"He must have done something to make us feel him,\" she said. \"Some exercise of power. Or maybe he's calling to us.\"\n\nCamulas ignored her, keeping his eyes on the streets. They were on the hill now, and it had begun to rain. Not wanting to surrender the search, Arinai had the driver weave up one street and then down another, all the while peering through the water spattered windows as he did. She reached out with her mind, searching for her target, but he was either too powerful or too weak for her to find. When she voiced her concern, Camulas nodded his head.\n\n\"Let's hope he's too weak,\" he said.\n\n\"Why is that?\" she asked.\n\n\"Because if he's powerful enough to shield himself this well, then he may be dangerous.\"\n\n\"We're all dangerous,\" Arinai said. \"Besides, if he is just awakening, he will gain strength. It won't be long before he's powerful no matter what.\"\n\n\"True,\" Camulas said. \"But I'd like to be among his friends before he gets that powerful.\"\n\nArinai understood the logic. It was manipulative and self-serving, but that was often the way of their lives.\n\nHalting the cab, Arinai exited and pulled Camulas along with her. He followed grudgingly, mumbling something about the rain and heading back to his hotel.\n\n\"It's not raining that badly, and you can have a hot shower later,\" she said. \"Tonight, I want to find my oracle.\"\n\nCamulas just shook his head, paid the cab driver, and headed down the street with her.\n\n\"Let's at least see if I can get a decent beer,\" he said.\n\nArinai agreed with the man, and seeing as any direction offered the same possibility, she headed towards a bar sign several blocks away. Upon arriving, Arinai made one more attempt to find her oracle. She felt nothing, and not seeing a better alternative, she led Camulas into the bar, found a table, and ordered him a pitcher of beer.\n\n\"Just one glass. I'm not drinking,\" she told the server, who gave her an odd look before glancing at her companion; Camulas cowed the man with a glare. After the server left, Arinai chuckled and shook her head.\n\n\"Oh, it is good to see you again,\" she said.\n\nCamulas didn't reply verbally, he just offered her a shake of his head and a look of minor annoyance. He amused her with his sour attitude, and that amusement aggravated him at times. That only served to amuse her further, and after another chuckle, she began to talk to him.\n\nThey talked about their lives and what they had been doing for the past several decades. Camulas, much like her, had kept a low profile, but had increasingly found it easier to make his way in the world.\n\n\"You were in Desert Storm?\" she asked incredulously.\n\nCamulas nodded his head.\n\n\"How did it feel to be in the thick of battle again?\"\n\n\"Different,\" Camulas said.\n\nArinai presented him with a questioning look.\n\n\"I've been in battles before,\" he clarified, \"but the new machinery took getting used to. On the third day of the campaign, the largest tank battle in history occurred. Still, it wasn't much of a battle. The U.S. decimated the Iraqis and didn't lose a single tank. That kind of battle is not one I am overly familiar with.\"\n\n\"Think you'll be able to adapt?\" she asked.\n\nCamulas didn't answer. Instead, he had gone rigid, with his eyes locked towards the entryway. Before she could follow his gaze, Arinai heard the signature hum of his blade being drawn ever so slightly. It caught her attention, drawing her eyes to him. It was a small vibration that she could just feel on the periphery of her senses, and it was so slight that she had to wonder if it was actually there. It had been a long time since she had heard or felt it, but she recalled the sensation nonetheless.\n\nArinai turned her eyes to the door where Camulas had his focus. It was night outside, but the street lights were on and she could see the two figures well enough to know what was happening. She couldn't determine exactly who they were—the background light cast their fronts in shadow—but she knew _what_ they were.\n\n\"How did they...?\" she began.\n\n\"Not now,\" Camulas commanded.\n\nArinai shut her mouth as ordered. It was only after thinking things through that she realized the hearing of the men entering the bar was just as good as theirs, if not better. Therefore, Camulas and she were not guaranteed any privacy of conversation.\n\nCamulas cast his eyes about carefully. He was looking for the exits as well as any other enemies. Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Arinai sent her mind out and felt for her brethren. The two at the door were easy to feel now that she knew they were there, but as she cast a wider net, she could feel a third one. However, the impression was that of a ghost. It was there but not there, and try as she might she couldn't locate the demon. Whoever this person was, they were very good at concealing themselves.\n\n\"There's a third,\" she said, not worried about being overheard.\n\n\"I know,\" Camulas said. \"It's a woman.\"\n\nThat fact surprised Arinai. It was more than she could feel from the impression.\n\nThe two men moved towards them, and Arinai sized them up as she did.\n\n_Drake and Badir_ , she thought when the beasts allowed the light to expose their figures.\n\nDrake was as she expected: older in appearance, dark haired, well dressed, and sporting an air of confidence and sophistication. Even his watch spoke of old world charm. Badir's confidence migrated into the realm of cockiness, which was advertised in the way he walked. He dressed plainly in jeans and a button-down shirt, and Arinai re-familiarized herself with his countenance, taking in his dimpled chin and eyes, which matched the long brown hair pulled back into a pony tail.\n\n\"May we join you?\" Drake asked politely once they had arrived at the table.\n\nCamulas kicked out a chair next to him as a way of welcoming them to sit. Drake nodded politely, took the chair, set it back in place and sat down. Badir chose to stand, watching carefully as Camulas watched him.\n\n\"I've noticed you two have been all over Seattle searching for something,\" Drake replied.\n\nHe let the words hang in the air, but the meaning was clear. While Arinai and Camulas had only met in Seattle a few days ago, Drake had been here the entire time. And while this species was relegated to the night, or at least darkened skies, Drake knew what they were up to. How he knew, Arinai couldn't say.\n\n\"We're just taking in the sights,\" Camulas stated dryly.\n\n\"Are you?\" Drake asked with a smile that told Arinai the demon did not believe Camulas. Camulas didn't reply. He simply stared at Drake, blinking slowly.\n\nArinai kept her eyes on Drake but felt for Badir. His thoughts were more primal—they always had been—and she believed he would be easier to read. She was right in one aspect, but she didn't learn much; she could feel the pull in him, the calling to Seattle. He had felt it much like she had—much like they all had. However, he had only arrived in Seattle the night before and knew very little about what was happening to any of them.\n\nBadir became slightly confused and shook his head clear, as if trying to wake from a dream. Arinai pulled her mind away from him quickly. It took only a moment for him to right himself and act as if nothing had happened. Apparently, he did not possess the skill to detect her presence in his mind.\n\nDrake had continued to talk during this entire time, speaking nonsense about the city itself. He was feeling for something, but Camulas was too good to reveal anything. For that matter, so was Arinai; her probe of Drake's companion had gone unnoticed by anyone, even Camulas who knew her skillset.\n\n\"I have seen others of our kind,\" Drake said. \"It's as if we all feel the call to this city. While I know we have had our differences in the past, I thought I would ask politely if you know what this is. No one I've spoken to seems to understand it.\"\n\n\"Have you spoken to many others?\" Arinai asked.\n\nDrake turned his attention to her. He knew she was avoiding the question, but nodded his head anyway.\n\n\"A few,\" he said, \"at least, those that can speak and didn't fear me so much that they felt the need to run.\"\n\n\"You've given them good reason to fear you,\" Camulas said.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Drake said. \"But our species is just as violent as the humans, so it's natural for there to be conflict.\"\n\n\"You seem to feed off of it,\" Camulas said.\n\n\"That seems a bit hypocritical, don't you think?\" Drake asked, giving Camulas a smirk.\n\n\"My wars were with Rome,\" Camulas said. \"They were for the survival of all of us. You and your ilk are nothing but bottom feeders.\"\n\nDrake snorted with derision.\n\n\"We are the Dearg-Due,\" he said, \"the vampires of legend. That legend is well deserved, but don't think you're anything special, Warlord. You're nothing but us in a different skin.\" Drake stopped speaking for a moment, and then snorted, waving off the matter as if it were nothing. \"But I didn't come here to bicker about semantics,\" he said. \"Or to debate which of our kin is more honorable than the next. I came to talk about Rome, as you have already brought up.\"\n\n\"Why Rome?\" Arinai asked.\n\nBadir scoffed, and when Arinai looked to him the man seemed to hold her in contempt.\n\n\"Stupid woman,\" he said.\n\nCamulas made ready to move, but Drake held up his hand to calm everyone.\n\n\"That's enough, Badir,\" Drake said loudly.\n\nBadir snorted and shook his head but held his tongue. Arinai could tell that the man found this conversation idiotic. She could even sense that he wanted to fight this out but had deferred to Drake for the moment, choosing instead to learn through guile what they might not learn through combat.\n\n\"Rome is everyone's problem,\" Drake said, \"and even though it's in a weakened state, they are still powerful. What I fear is the Bishop.\"\n\n\"That's your problem,\" Camulas said, but Arinai knew it was a bluff. Rome and the Bishop were all of her brethren's problem, not just the Dearg-Due's.\n\n\"Think so?\" Drake said. \"If Rome detects our presence in large numbers, do you think they will sit back and just allow us to grow stronger?\"\n\nCamulas didn't reply.\n\nDrake leaned in, getting very close to Camulas. It was a bold move that spoke either of great bravery or stupidity.\n\n\"I was not alive the last time Rome fell,\" he said. \"But I heard the stories. As Rome descended, the Keltoi rose. Our people ascended to a glorious age. But tell me, Warlord, did Rome go peacefully? Did they surrender without a fight?\"\n\nArinai's mind drifted back to that time. It was nearly two thousand years ago, and while she had forgotten a lot, she remembered the battles. She remembered the death, and even the first life she had taken. It was a Roman Centurion, defeated in battle and offered to her as a sacrifice. She hated the Romans, and had taken the offer and the man's life with the swing of her blade. Even to this day she found it difficult to visit their city; they had caused her so much pain.\n\n\"So,\" Drake said, after no one answered verbally. \"You tell me that the Bishop is only my problem, but I think he will be all of ours.\"\n\n\"I'd be more worried about Raphael,\" Camulas said bluntly.\n\nDrake and Badir stiffened slightly, and when they did, Camulas smiled.\n\n\"That's just a legend,\" Badir replied.\n\nCamulas snorted and began to laugh.\n\n\"You tell yourself that, fang boy,\" Camulas said, derisively. \"But the Arch-Demons did exist at one time, and rumor has it that the survivors are held captive by the new Rome. If this battle goes the way as the last, I can guarantee that they'll be released.\"\n\n\"Rome wouldn't be that careless,\" Drake said warily.\n\n\"Oh,\" Arinai replied casually. \"And tell me, Drake, just how does an enemy with nothing to lose decide to act? Do you think they would care about releasing Raphael, or even Uriel?\"\n\nNow it was Drake's turn to remain silent, and as he contemplated her words his eyes turned dark, and Arinai took the opportunity to probe his mind. She couldn't perform this feat well, not like her original mentor could, but she would try. The task proved more difficult with Drake than with Badir. She knew it would be because her training allowed her a good gauge of who she could probe and who not, but she tried nonetheless.\n\nDrake shook his head suddenly and his eyes widened. He appeared in pain, and Arinai felt his resistance. She was learning nothing as the demon's defenses came into effect. He breathed heavily and put his hand to his nose. When he pulled it away and found blood, his eyes raged.\n\n\"Get out of my head, Witch!\" he commanded.\n\nDrake moved quickly. Arinai backed away as far as she could, but in a heartbeat the vampire had stopped. He was halfway across the table, frozen as if in tableau with eyes bulging and a humming blade to his throat. Arinai found it hard to believe the speed of her friend, but Camulas had been prepared and had protected her, as he always did.\n\n\"Sit down,\" Camulas ordered.\n\nThe commotion of the table had attracted unwanted attention, and while Camulas could hide his weaponry from mortals when he wanted, this particular scene was sure to appear suspect. Arinai acted quickly and began to cloud everyone's minds. Music began to enter the bar, and as if in a dream, several patrons began to calm, then chat, and then move to the dance floor.\n\nIn front of her, Drake's nostrils flared, but that was all that moved. Camulas casually tapped his knife blade on the man's chin and gave his order one more time.\n\n\"Sit down,\" he ordered.\n\nDrake moved slowly, backing away calmly and taking his seat.\n\n\"I apologize,\" Arinai said honestly. \"It was not my intention to cause you pain.\"\n\n\"Just your intention to invade his mind, huh bitch?\" Badir spat.\n\nArinai cast a wary eye at Badir. The demon appeared angry but knew the score all too well. They were in a very public place, and Camulas and she were much stronger than either of them, a fact that the vampires were well aware of. The only unknown in this whole scenario was the mysterious woman whom Arinai could still sense somewhere nearby.\n\n\"Are you our enemy?\" Drake asked after calming.\n\n\"Not unless you make us,\" Arinai replied.\n\nDrake appeared to contemplate the answer before nodding his head.\n\n\"Is war coming?\" he asked, solemnly. \"Can we expect the same as last time?\"\n\nArinai looked to Camulas, who deferred to her with a quick nod of his head.\n\n\"If we go to war with Rome,\" she said, \"then all of mankind will be involved. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.\"\n\n\"That's not an answer,\" Drake replied.\n\n\"It's all I have,\" she said honestly. \"I just don't know.\"\n\nDrake took another minute to consider her. He studied her for deception. She could even sense him feeling for her. He was weak, at least compared to her, and while he was powerful where mortals were concerned, he would learn little from her.\n\n\"Very well,\" he said, then stood and headed to the door.\n\nBadir stayed behind a moment and gauged the couple at the table. At first, Arinai thought he wanted to get his own feelings for them, but as the man stood there, smirking with conceit, she realized he was just being brazen—a lone Dearg-Due in the presence of the Ancients. It was like putting your head in the lion's mouth, and she had to chuckle to herself at the stupidity of it.\n\n### Chapter 2\n\n\"You ready for dinner?\"\n\nJames looked up from his tablet to the slender man standing in the open doorway. A woman rushed past in the hallway, hell bent on getting somewhere fast _._\n\n_Probably late for filing a document,_ James thought.\n\n\"I just need a few minutes, Jonah. I have some charts to finish,\" James said to his friend.\n\nJonah shook his head and laughed, \"I'm telling you, man, you really should be at the U-dub. The hours are better.\"\n\n\"But not the pay,\" James replied, \"or the view.\"\n\nJames turned and looked out to the Puget Sound from his office window. The water was mostly calm, but he could still see some whitecaps forming in areas. \"Besides, I'm a consultant, so my hours are my own to keep.\"\n\n\"What the hell are you working on, anyway?\"\n\n\"Just re-evaluating the basic assumption of this company's R&D department,\" James replied as he shut down his computer and began to put it away. \"They've spent twenty million dollars and gotten nowhere. It's not surprising. Their underlying premises are incorrect.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\nJames chuckled.\n\n\"That's classified,\" he replied, \"but it isn't surprising. A lot of companies get off on the wrong foot. I just wish I didn't have to put in such long hours to prove it.\"\n\nJonah smiled.\n\n\"Like I said, you should be at the U, and one of these days you'll realize that I'm always right. Once you do that, life will be so much easier.\"\n\nJames rolled his eyes slightly, but Jonah didn't notice; he simply continued to joke with his friend, badgering him about paperwork. Eventually, James finished gathering his items and the two left the office.\n\n\"How are things at the U? Any new information?\" James asked.\n\n\"Do you mean about the clinical trial I snuck you into? No, there's nothing new.\"\n\nJames took exception to Jonah's cavalier attitude.\n\n\"Do you mind keeping your voice down? I don't need this broadcast across the building.\"\n\n\"Oh, whatever, Consultant Connor.\" Jonah said, mockingly using his friend's title. \"Eventually you'll realize that people just don't care, and even if they did most people wouldn't understand what we're talking about. They're just too dumb.\"\n\n\"How the hell did you make it through medical school with that attitude?\"\n\n\"Like I said, I'm always right, and I don't deal with patients, anyway. I'm in administration and don't have to be so serious. Besides, you worry too much. You're already on the gene therapy trial, and once you're on the trial the doctors and nurses just don't care. You simply need to show up at the University, sign in, get your treatment, and leave. This is a double blind study anyway, so the doctors don't know that you're getting the actual treatment. Only a few of us do.\"\n\nJames didn't share his friend's optimism or his careless disregard for procedures. They had been out of college for ten years, and Jonah hadn't matured in all that time—James, however, hadn't been so immobile. He didn't believe Jonah would blatantly or purposely cause a disruption in either of their careers, but he also didn't trust him to keep his mouth shut. He just hoped that if something should slip, it would be too little too late. James' only other hope was that any careless words spoken by his idiotic friend would fall on deaf ears.\n\nThe men made their way up First Hill and found a pub that was just beginning happy hour. They ordered food and beer—a pale ale for Jonah and a porter for James—and then chatted for a few minutes about trivial issues. James eventually brought the conversation back to the point that was his reason for inviting Jonah to dinner.\n\n\"Have there been any unusual side effects to the treatment?\"\n\n\"None that I know of. Certainly no deaths, if that's what you mean,\" Jonah said with a snide laugh.\n\n\"It's not a laughing matter, Jonah. People died.\"\n\n\"Oh come on!\" Jonah said with a devil-may-care attitude. \"I understand your concern, but gene therapy has come a long way in the last ten years, and those deaths weren't directly linked to the therapy, anyway. Honestly, I can't believe it took so long for the FDA to allow us to proceed again.\"\n\n\"Of course they weren't linked to the therapy. They were linked to the delivery system: a retrovirus that was delivered in a dose a hundred times what was needed.\"\n\n\"Well, we've come a long way since then, and even those patients knew the risks. It's not as if they weren't told the dangers when they signed up for the trials.\"\n\n\"I believe the lawsuit that was filed would be evidence to the contrary,\" James replied.\n\nJonah waved off the comment.\n\n\"Old news,\" he said. \"Look, I don't mean to be insensitive, but people die, and no matter how much we warn them or how hard we try, we can't stop that. You could have a patient admitted to your hospital and without warning, they could die of a bad morphine reaction from a treatment that you ordered. That doesn't mean that you don't order the morphine drip.\"\n\n\"I agree with you in general principal, just not with your attitude,\" James replied sternly. \"However, you still haven't answered my question. Have there been any unusual side effects?\"\n\nJonah leaned in, shook his head, and spoke clearly, \"No, there haven't, so don't worry about it. I'm sure you're safe.\"\n\nJames looked at his friend coldly.\n\n\"There are always side effects, Jonah,\" he said sternly. \"So, are you sitting there and telling me there's been no nausea, no arrhythmia, no psychotic breaks, nothing?\"\n\n\"Not that I know of,\" Jonah replied as he casually looked about the bar. \"Besides, just look at you. Are you having any of those symptoms?\"\n\nJames was a bit cautious with his reaction to the question, but lied easily enough.\n\n\"No, not at all,\" he said with a shake of his head.\n\nJonah was too absorbed with himself to notice the bad lie; he usually was.\n\n\"Well, there you go. I'm right, again,\" Jonah said.\n\nThey finished their beer, chatting about nothing, and ordered two more. The food soon arrived, and Jonah suddenly brightened with an idea that he thought was genius.\n\n\"Hey you should think about buying stock in this company. If the trial does well, and it looks like it will, then the stock will skyrocket. Their patent on this delivery system is solid.\"\n\n\"I have enough money,\" James replied. He didn't like the structure of the patent holding company anyway. \"And I'm more worried about my life at the moment. You may remember that I actually need this therapy.\"\n\n\"Of course, but if you survive long enough you'll need money to continue to pay for that apartment of yours. That thing has got to cost a fortune.\"\n\n\"Thanks, buddy. You're all heart,\" James said with another eye role that went unnoticed by his friend.\n\n\"Don't mention it,\" Jonah replied with a friendly smile. \"Now, I have to take a leak.\" Without waiting for any reply, Jonah abruptly stood and left quickly.\n\nJames sat at the table, glad that his friend was gone. He liked Jonah well enough, but the man could be difficult to stomach at times. He was constantly quick with an opinion and always self-assured that his opinion was correct. Shaking his head again at the thought, James rooted through his jacket and looked for a bottle he had hidden within it. He pulled it out and checked its label.\n\n_Ziprasodone_ was an anti-psychotic, but James had yet to take it. The prescription had been easy enough to forge after swiping a prescription pad from a careless doctor during one of his hospital consultations, but once the drug was in his possession, he found it difficult to actually ingest.\n\nHe debated taking a dose now; his mind was beginning to fog, and the voices were returning—it was like being amidst a small crowd at a party. He knew the voices were there, and they were getting harder to drown out. Every once in a while, he would catch a phrase or odd word, much like hearing someone mention your name from across the room. It would cause him to mentally whip his thoughts around, but by the time he could focus his mind again the conversation had moved on, making him wonder if he had actually heard anything at all.\n\nJames examined the label of the bottle and listened to the voices. They were soft and annoying, but at least the odd visions weren't with him tonight. He was glad for that. Shaking his head, he put the bottle away but knew that it would eventually have to be opened. The delusions were not abating, and every few days they got worse. Tonight's decision, however, was made by common sense rather than his belief that he wasn't having a psychotic break—he wasn't about to take this drug so soon after ingesting alcohol.\n\nJonah soon returned and continued to harass his friend. James took the jesting in stride and gave as good as he got. As they bantered, James mentally shook his head at Jonah's behavior. He could forgive Jonah for his insensitivity; the man simply didn't know how to handle a friend that might soon be dead. Or maybe he did and was just an ass. The more James thought about it, the more he agreed with the _ass_ assessment.\n\nDinner concluded, and James picked up the check as usual. Jonah offered to pay, but it was a half-hearted attempt filled with jokes about mooching off of his much more successful friend. James just shook his head and took it in stride; he considered it money well spent. Either Jonah was correct and no one else from the trial had symptoms, or the man was hiding the facts. However, Jonah was too terrible of a liar for James to believe the latter.\n\nThey separated after leaving the bar, and James began to make his way home; he had walked today, as the weather was decent. It had rained the night before, but tonight the streets were drying and the skies, while cloudy, held in any precipitation they contained. The air was crisp, and he enjoyed the walk down the long hill to his complex near the waterfront. He watched the stores closing, shutting gates and locking doors, and he was pleased as the streets became less crowded as the city emptied of its daily commuters. _Almost like a ghost town_ , he thought.\n\nHe was about halfway home when the visions started. He was used to it by now, not like in the beginning when he was unsure if something was actually happening to him. Those first few days were met with angst and even a trip to Northgate and a radiology lab that would perform an MRI directly for the patient. The scan had been clear. However, the concern James felt didn't abate with the negative MRI.\n\nHe continued to walk, watching as the shadows danced before him. They were acting unusual tonight. Typically, they moved around him as if he were walking through a flock of ducks in a park. They remained in sight and were curious about him, but they always kept their distance.\n\nTonight, however, they appeared more playful. Before, if he ever approached, the shadows would retreat, remaining aloof. He realized, of course, that this was an odd form of visual hallucination, but at least it ruled out cortical irritation as a cause—that would manifest differently. Being a professional problem solver, he had tried to diagnose himself, but continually found his hands tied as he attempted to determine the etiology of his condition; without full access to the gene therapy trial, he couldn't get a full medical history. Furthermore, he couldn't reveal his true position in the trial without compromising his career. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.\n\nHe continued to walk and watch the shadows as they came ever closer and pranced about. They seemed very agitated tonight, and he wondered what could be processing in his mind to cause such a visual disturbance; perhaps too much dopamine, or a problem with his serotonin re-uptake.\n\nA shadow came in quickly and very close to his face. He batted it away out of instinct, as if he were batting at a mosquito. As he did so, his head exploded with light and images. For a moment, he felt sick and lightheaded, and he had to lean against a nearby building to catch his breath. Slowly, his sensations returned to normal and he looked about himself. The world had stopped spinning, and he found that he could continue to walk down the street if he moved slowly. He was unsure what had just happened, but he was now certainly more attentive.\n\nGlancing about, he took in his surroundings. The shadows were still there but had retreated to a safer distance. Where before they had surrounded him while maintaining an easy distance, they now remained only in front of him. In unison, they moved farther down the street, heading toward the waterfront. Curious, James followed.\n\nThe distance between him and the shadows remained constant. If he sped up, they sped up. If he slowed, they slowed. Soon, he was very near his apartment building, and James half expected them to lead him home—they didn't. They continued another few blocks and came to Pike Place Market. The market was now closed, but people were still milling about, chatting or visiting the few shops still open. The shadows ignored this activity and headed south down 1st Avenue. Unsure what to make of this and unsure what to make of his odd reaction of just a few moments before, James continued to follow.\n\nThey led him down the street farther south. James followed for several minutes, all the time wondering about his sanity. Auditory hallucination, visual hallucination, lightheadedness and weakness. His analytical mind screamed at him some of the worst case scenarios while his emotional side hoped that he was being paranoid. Neither of those states of mind could explain why he was following his mental projections produced from false stimuli.\n\n_Perhaps this is what a psychotic break is,_ he thought. _The realization that you are going insane and the inability to stop it._\n\nAs he approached the sports stadiums, the shadows seemed to swirl about the streets. Hundreds of them moved about like a flock of birds taking flight and rapidly changing direction. He watched for a moment as they danced hither and thither like paper caught up in the wind, and then suddenly they dispersed. He didn't know to where.\n\nLooking about, he could see no movement other than what any sane person would see. He turned around, looked at the surrounding buildings, then up and down the streets. The voices then started loudly. He now realized they had always been there, he had just ignored them in lieu of following the shadows. As he listened, he found himself drawn to a building across the street. He needed height, and he didn't know why.\n\nAn open doorway led to a stairway, and he made his way up. People milled about, moving from floor to floor, and he passed more than one person that was leaving for the day. James had no idea what building this was, but it was obviously an office building of some sort that must be used for multiple tenants, because he appeared to go unnoticed.\n\nMaking his way to the roof, he opened the door and stepped out. He looked to the ground and found the door prop that he knew would be there; there was always a door prop for smokers or readers or people that enjoyed lunch on the roof. He placed it in the frame and made sure the door rested securely against it, ensuring he would not get locked out of the building.\n\nJames made his way to the edge and looked out to the Puget Sound. It was getting darker, but he could still make out watercraft and the ferries that were busy shuttling commuters home; it was a very enjoyable view.\n\nThe voices were louder than ever, and he could almost make some sense of the muttering. However, the more he tried to hear the less he understood. It was like listening to dogs bark—there might be something to it, but his mind didn't understand the language.\n\nJames's vision was drawn down to the waterfront, and he could see exactly where the shadows had gone. Like a swarm of bees, they were dancing and scurrying about a construction site. James took a close look at the movement and tried to make sense of it. The shadows continued to fly about.\n\n_There must be thousands_ , he thought.\n\nHe looked at the equipment on the site and realized that he was looking at the new Seattle tunnel. It was in its infancy, and the crews were just breaking ground. Eventually, this tunnel would be a two lane road each way and would bypass the now decrepit Alaskan Way viaduct. The machinery was to bore under the Seattle business corridor and arrive near the south end of Lake Union—if it could do so without causing any buildings to collapse.\n\nThe machinery currently stood quiet; even the construction lighting was turned off. However, enough daylight remained to discern the general layout of the dig, and James took a closer look. The shadows seemed to surround the northernmost section; a section that was heavily tarped off and sporting some odd trailers as well as non-construction equipment. He attempted to make out what they were, and his mind suddenly flashed to a news report from just a few days before.\n\n_The blood pit_ , he thought.\n\nIt was an odd bit of Seattle news that had been revealed with much excitement and much gossip. The tunnel crew had broken thru the ceiling of a 100 year old room that had been filled with blood. No one today knew anything about it, and it was a complete shock to the crew as well as the engineers when it was discovered. The most likely scenario, according to historians, was that the room had been attached to an old butcher or slaughterhouse. When the waterfront had been rebuilt a century before, the room had been sealed and covered with dirt, all in an attempt to raise the waterfront to a higher and more usable height.\n\nUncovering the room revealed that it had somehow been hermetically sealed, and just like that a hundred years of blood had sat fermenting and remaining in its liquid state—a gory tale, to be sure, but interesting in its own right. The sheer size of the room led to a lot of wild gossip. This was no small amount of blood, as the pit was easily 20 feet deep. As James tried to remember the details, he recalled that the EPA was on site, attempting to assess any environmental danger from the pit and its contents.\n\nThe shadows danced about the area but didn't get too close to the contents. Even though they acted curious, they seemed to avoid the pit. James watched as they moved about. He thought they looked like moths attracted to a flame. However, he couldn't determine what they intended, if anything, or why exactly they were drawn to the site.\n\nThe voices grew louder and the shadows more furious. James shook his head and fumbled in his jacket for the pills he knew were there. He pulled them free and took a deep breath as he stared at the bottle. His mind became jumbled with logic and emotion, and for the first time he actually believed, deep in his core, that he was going crazy. He slowly became angry as he stared at that bottle. He was pissed-off with his medical condition and pissed-off that he was now losing control of his mental acuity, the one thing he needed for his livelihood and the one thing that had always been there for him. He was even about to uncap the pills when his mind began to race with the possible side effects. He couldn't get them out of his head: Constipation, nausea, muscle spasms, and many others symptoms raced through his mind. Those symptoms caused him to steel his anger.\n\n\"Damn,\" he cried as he threw the bottle across the roof.\n\nIt hit some heating equipment and bounced out of sight. James turned to the shadows and watched them dance. His view became clearer and he could see the shadows almost as individuals. They raced about the edge of the tarp-covered pit and feared to enter. His thoughts calmed slightly but his heightened emotion made him driven. A simple thought came to mind; he could only think of taking control of his life, much as he had done by contacting Jonah to get him on the trial. He needed that control, even in this situation as his mind began to crack— especially as his mind began to crack.\n\n\"Take it,\" he whispered forcibly.\n\nThe shadows stopped moving abruptly, and the voices in his head quieted. For a moment, James had peace, and the shadows provided a frozen tableau against the backdrop of the darkened waterfront.\n\nSlowly, a loud baritone scream arose in his mind and the shadows moved once again, combining into one column that ascended above the work site. As it had earlier, it resembled a flock of birds taking flight. The column crested and then dove into the pit. The scream in his mind also coalesced into a coherent sound. James watched in fascination. If he was going crazy, he was at least beginning to enjoy the wonderment of the experience.\n\nHis eyes suddenly focused, and for a moment his vision zoomed to the pit. He could see blood gurgling upon the surface, and bones from animals long dead were arising from the pit. A cow's skull surfaced to be followed by bits of a pig and thousands of chicken bones. The sudden change in perception shocked James, and he gasped in surprise.\n\nHe suddenly found himself alone on the roof of the building, his vision returning to normal and his mind cleared of auditory and visual hallucinations. He turned about and recovered his bearings. Confusion took hold for a moment before he returned his gaze to the construction site. It was much darker now, darker than he had realized, and he found it hard to believe that he had seen the area so well just moments before. From what he could determine, the site was calm and peaceful—nothing disturbed its solitude.\n\nJames took a breath and focused on the pit area. His mind was now calm and curious.\n\n_Such an odd hallucination_ , he thought.\n\nHe recalled his articles on schizophrenia and several of the case studies. Some patients had actually learned to marvel at their condition. Their cases were so mentally odd that their logical mind could easily distinguish the falsity of the visions they saw. Rather than be scared by the misfiring sensory neurons, the patients learned to live with them, and enjoyed the odd dancing horse or singing panda that intruded upon their daily lives.\n\nAs he watched the quiet waterfront, his mind cast about the area, curiously and thoughtfully. He slowly and consciously blinked, trying to recreate his vision. Suddenly, his eyes were upon the pit. The noise was back in his head, and he could once again see the construction area. It was as if it were illuminated by moonlight. He watched closely as the shadows swam around the pit, seemingly enjoying their sojourn.\n\nBlinking again, he found himself alone on the roof and finding it more difficult to see the ever darkening waterfront.\n\n_That's certainly odd_ , he thought.\n\nHe hadn't read of any patients with control of their hallucinations, at least not in this manner. He had read of lucid dreaming, but most of that research he chalked up to pop psychology. There wasn't enough empirical evidence on the subject to allow him to support a belief in the matter. James took another breath and consciously blinked again. As before, his vision returned to the pit and he watched the shadows swim. As he did, his vision began to blur slowly and he became lightheaded.\n\nFor a minute he felt his memories stir and his identity became confused. He suddenly forgot who he was and what he was doing. His mind exploded in pain, and his hand went to his face. He blinked rapidly and was again returned to the darkness of the roof. He fell to his knees, his left arm going to the ground for support. It took a moment for him to gain his composure, and he began to breathe rapidly; it was as if he had been punched in the head. His breathing gradually slowed, and James pulled his hand away from his face; it was covered in blood.\n\n\"Shit,\" he said as he grabbed for something in his jacket to stop the flow from his nose.\n\nHe found a napkin and held it to his face as he stood and made his way to the roof's edge. It was dark, and he could see very little. He gently probed with his mind to the shadows that he believed to be out there, but he felt a pressure pushing back. He couldn't explain it, but then again, he couldn't explain any of this.\n\nA headache and a bloody nose were more symptoms for him to research, and he decided that he had had enough for the evening. He left the roof's edge, took time to locate the bottle of pills he had tossed, and then headed down the stairs and towards home.\n\nArinai had raced to the water's edge when she had first felt the awkward pull of the shadows. She had seen them dancing and had watched in awe as they moved about. Their dive into the blood pit was a magnificent sight to behold; it was terrifying and beautiful at the same time.\n\nShe could also feel the presence of the man she was searching for. However, she couldn't locate him. An attempt to pierce his mind was met with little resistance at first but had been cut off abruptly. Looking towards the buildings around her, she could immediately pick out the one where he stood. When he made his way to the ledge, peering over to the waterfront, she looked closely at him, focusing her vision across the great distance. She recognized the face: it was the same one from her dreams. However, he didn't see her and she didn't know why. She, however, could make him out clearly, even at this distance and in this low light. She pressed again at his mind and could feel him briefly reach out to hers before retreating in a fashion that she was unfamiliar with.\n\nBefore she could respond, he moved away from the edge and became invisible to all her senses. Moving rapidly, she headed across the waterfront to his former location, but the distance was too great. It took several minutes for her to reach the destination, and by the time she arrived at the building he was nowhere to be found.\n\n### Chapter 3\n\nWars raged through James' mind, and sleep became a chore rather than the respite that one often craves. Names came to him and faces as well. He seemed to recall ancient cities and even some of the people that lived in them as they took up weapons to defend themselves. The scenes were brutal and quickly brought James to his own need for violence. Fighting for consciousness, he overcame the drowsiness of his body and sat up. He looked at the clock; it was only 11pm.\n\nJames was familiar with this feeling of restlessness and knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Resigned to his fate, he pulled the covers away, stood, and made his way to the kitchen, leaving the lights off as he did. The hallway was short and soon opened into a spacious living room with an ornate kitchen just to the side; the two areas were separated only by tile, carpet, and a marble covered island.\n\nThe outer walls of this section of his apartment were actually glass and offered a stunning view of the waterway to the west. James took a deep breath, let it out, and stared at the Puget Sound and the bordering landmasses across the way. The darkness of the night gave way to a bright moon that provided enough light to cast the landscape into a peaceful and alluring view. For a moment, James thought about turning on the lights, but decided against it. Besides, his shadows were keeping him company, and there was enough light for him to get a glass of water.\n\nHe all but ignored the shadows now. Their odd actions of a few days prior hadn't been repeated; the dark annoyances had returned to their former habit of maintaining their distance. Water cascaded into a glass, and within seconds James found himself drinking slowly as he stood at his windows, half naked and watching the world before him.\n\nAn odd scent slowly wafted before him, and he furrowed his brow as he cast his mind for it.\n\n_Lilacs_ , he thought curiously. Turning about, he scanned his apartment for the source but couldn't find its origin.\n\nThe dreams of his sleep invaded his mind again. He could remember the battles—they had seemed so real. The fact that they were battles of the sword with regiments of infantry as well as cavalry amused him. However, what was more intriguing was his emotional state. He was aggressive, angry, and horny.\n\n_Must have been REM sleep_ , he mused as he recalled the high level of aggression associated with that particular form of deep sleep.\n\nHe adjusted himself as his body took it upon itself to react to his mental arousal. He may have to do something about that, but at the moment he was just trying to figure out if he should go back to bed. The lilac smell came again, and he moved about trying to find it. He walked the length of the room and entered the hallway. An image of a woman flashed through his mind, and he could almost make out a face. It was an odd sensation. He thought it was a memory, but it was not a memory that readily came to mind.\n\nJames made his way to his bedroom and the scent grew stronger. His body continued to be aroused, and he realized the scent was a perfume. Something that he had smelled recently and been attracted to. Of course, he had always liked the scent of lilac perfume.\n\nHe reached his bedroom and turned on the light. His retinas flashed with the assault of illumination, and he experienced an image of a woman in his room tearing madly at her lover's clothes as she bit and clawed him with passion. It took a moment for him to realize the man was himself. Another odd memory, but still nothing that he could easily recall. He had the oddest sensation that he had had sex with this woman, he just couldn't remember when. He had lived in this apartment for less than a year, so it couldn't have been that long ago. Shaking his head, he concentrated on the memory. This, of course, only caused the memory to run away for him.\n\nHe chuckled to himself as he thought about the woman and the night they might have shared. It was one thing to forget a woman's name, but to forget the event altogether was something else. He still couldn't remember it fully and had to conclude that either it had never happened, or that he had been very drunk. As he continued to recall the bits that had crossed his mind, the sex and the woman took on the feel of a dream, and those images began to blend into his increasingly emotional state—he was getting horny again.\n\nJames sighed for a moment.\n\n\"What the hell,\" he said as he resigned himself to being awake.\n\nJames got dressed quickly and prepared to leave, determined to do anything except sit in his apartment all night. After taking a quick moment to verify that he had his access card for re-entry to the building, he headed to the lobby and out the secured front doors, wishing a good night to the attendant on duty as he did. His mind absently guided him along the streets, and he soon discovered that he was headed north to Belltown. It was several blocks away but was sure to offer him something to eat and drink; the area was mostly bars. It didn't take long to pass the market and then enter the newly renovated area of Seattle. It was coming along nicely. Every other building was a pub or restaurant of some sort, and the younger crowd certainly liked the area. The odd bum could be seen wandering around, but that was forgivable; it hadn't been too long ago that this area of town wasn't anything but decrepit buildings and homeless people.\n\nThe smell of lilacs wafted through the air, and James perked up as the scent hit him. Curious, he followed the aroma as best he could. That course of action turned out to be about five feet before he realized he wasn't a dog and wasn't going to have any luck with that trick. He turned his head around to determine if anyone locally might be wearing perfume, but there was no one near enough that could be the source. Sighing, he continued on.\n\nHe passed one bar after another, glancing at the sandwich boards on the street. This one had burgers, that one had fish and chips. Nothing struck his fancy, so he continued on. Eventually, he found himself outside of a themed bar—they all seemed to have themes in Belltown. This one was football.\n\nThe door was propped open, as were the large bay windows in front. The oddly shaped tables and chairs, both inside and outside, appeared to be full with this generation's version of yuppies. Nice enough people, but James couldn't relate; he preferred to avoid the seemingly false sense of wealth and fine taste. Still, he felt comfortable with the restaurant. It also appeared to serve porter, so he decided to make his way to the bar.\n\nBefore he could get the attention of the barman, he saw her. She was on the far side of the bar flirting with a young man who appeared to be making every effort to get into her pants. James recognized her instantly from his memory. _Or was it a dream?_ he thought.\n\nHe tilted his head and watched as she coyly chatted with her companion. James felt oddly attracted to her, and his body began to return to a state of arousal. The thought occurred to him that he should ask for her name, but then he realized how much of an ass he would appear to be. Perhaps she would even hit him for forgetting her and not calling the next day.\n\nDeciding to play it safe, James settled for a tactical retreat. He was about to leave and avoid her accidentally spying him when he realized it was too late. She was looking at him with an odd expression.\n\n_Damn_ , he thought and did the only thing he could do, he smiled and nodded kindly. The woman didn't notice.\n\nJames furrowed his brow slightly and took another look at the woman. He followed her eyes more closely and realized that she wasn't interested in him, but something outside. Turning casually, he looked out of the bar to the street. With the oversized front windows retracted, it appeared as if the bar had no outer wall, making the general atmosphere inviting while allowing a cool breeze to circulate among the patrons.\n\nThe shadows had followed him of course and were now moving around just outside; some even forayed into the bar, their tendrils licking the area like an octopus searching for food. They moved about the patrons and teased the walls, the food, and even the lights; the latter objects didn't appear to dim with the movements of these hallucinations, and James took a moment to enjoy the surreal feel of lights that did not waver with the addition of shadows across the bulbs.\n\nWhen James turned back to the woman, he saw that she was oblivious to the man next to her, even as he attempted to garner her attention with a wild story. Curious, James turned to the shadows and then to the woman. It took two or three glances before it fully dawned on him that she was watching the shadows just as he was.\n\n\"What can I get you?\" the barman asked and broke James's reverie.\n\n\"Umm, sorry. Just a porter, if you have one?\"\n\nThe barman nodded and went to fetch the brew. James looked back at the woman, who had finally returned her gaze to her companion, but he could see her sneak the occasional sideways glances to the entryway. Now that she wasn't looking at him, James began to scrutinize her. He noticed her hair color, her lips, her clothing, and he could almost smell the lilac on her. As he watched, she almost seemed to blur before him, and taking a deep breath he blinked consciously to clear his vision.\n\nLike the blood pit from just a few days before, his vision zoomed in and changed. Now, he could see her differently. Gone was her human appearance, and in its place was a radiating figure. She was still very much human in form, but she had a purple and black glow about her. Her eyes seemed larger, the ears were pointed, her hands appeared more slender, and her movements much more graceful.\n\nFlashes filled his mind, and he could see images from her life. They played across his vision superimposed on the demon as she continued to chat with her male companion. She was old, perhaps a thousand years, and she had seen much of life. Images of war and famine flashed through his mind, but also singing, and dancing, and the joy of people's lives. He then saw sex; there was a lot of that.\n\nSoon, the images coalesced and he found that he could learn anything he wanted about her. He also knew what she was. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew—the information was readily available for his inspection. She was a succubus: a demon that fed off sexual energy.\n\nHis beer was brought to him, and he drank it while he watched her. He didn't consider the woman as a beast per se but as a study in psychology. His mind had plagued him and even invented a description of what she was. At least that was the only reason he could determine for his knowing what she was. His mind was creating a narrative for him to accompany his visions, but where that narrative came from he could not say. He had heard of succubi of course, but not to this level of detail and much like his enjoyment of the shadows a few nights before, James began to enjoy the experience, taking the newfound knowledge in stride.\n\nStaying remarkably calm, James blinked again and consciously flipped from one image to another, much as he had done before at the blood pit. He found it interesting and took his time as he spied on her. He had met this woman or beast before, but he couldn't exactly remember when or how. He then smiled as a wicked thought occurred to him.\n\nHe blinked again and saw her in that radiating form, and taking a chance, he dove into her mind to recall images of himself. He may not be able to remember her, but she might remember him, and he had to smile at the brilliance of the idea. Of course, that's exactly what he got paid for—finding unusual solutions to common problems, and using someone else's memories to trigger your own, certainly fit that description.\n\nJames was enjoying this descent into madness. The past year had been spent fretting over his life and possible death, then dealing with the ethics of falsifying a clinical trial, not to mention having to deal with Jonah on a much more regular basis than any human should be forced to. Now, as his madness allowed him some freedom of emotion, he journeyed into his hallucination and let it take him where it willed.\n\nHe zoomed mentally past the barman and across the small expanse of the room and into the mind of the demon before him. He thought only of himself, his face, and his apartment as he searched her soul. The information came easily enough.\n\nHe had been in a bar, very similar to this one, when she had approached him. He watched himself through her eyes as she baited him and then led him to his very own apartment. He saw them enter the lobby and noticed that the attendant ignored them; somehow their arrival had gone unnoticed. Up the elevator and into his apartment they had gone, where she moved quickly. The sex was marvelous, and when he climaxed she had fed.\n\nHe could almost feel her hands upon his head as he probed her mind. But something had gone wrong. It had been an odd experience for her, and she had gasped from fear of the unknown. Something was not right with her prey, but she didn't know what, and James could hear and feel her words just as she had said it that night.\n\n\"You're not human,\" she had screamed.\n\nShe was confused but finished her task nonetheless. When she was done, she departed quickly, leaving him disoriented and with a mind that would not recall the events of the evening. Continuing to probe her mind, James could feel her walk the hallway and take the elevator, passing the unseeing attendant in the lobby. By the time she reached the street she had forgotten all about him; apparently not an uncommon reaction for a succubus.\n\nThat idea made James realized that he wasn't seeing her memories, he was seeing her life. She didn't need to be cognizant of her past. It didn't matter that she couldn't recall him. For some reason, James just knew all about the event. Any item that he wished to know about her became nothing but a chapter in a book that he could flip through at his discretion. He took a moment, as he remained in her mind, and watched her feed on others, then he watched her sleep within the shadows of alleys and trees. He watched her as she moved across Europe, avoiding the burning of witches and many other dangers that the church provided.\n\nJames believed he could have remained all night, but her task was nearly complete. She had captured her prey for the night, and the couple was making ready to leave. As they did so, James fetched his phone from his pocket and went to _Google Scholar_. He made his searches and then logged into the medical sites that popped up. It didn't take long to find what he needed.\n\n_Damn_ , he thought as he searched for the raw data.\n\nMost of the fMRI data was on female orgasms, but there was enough for him to get the basic idea. The human mind, as the medical institutions were quickly learning, became very active during orgasm. In fact, no other activity showed as much activity on the fMRI scans. Cursing at the lack of information, James wished for the actual scans of the patients but had to limit himself to the clinical notes and summaries. Shaking his head, he put his phone away. He would research this further when he could, but for the moment he decided to let the matter drop.\n\nHis new demon friend had left the bar and didn't even glance at him. James paid for his beer, finished the last bit from the glass and followed. He wasn't certain why, other than a morbid curiosity to encourage his madness.\n\nThey all headed north and went several blocks before turning off in another direction. As they turned, the succubus took notice of James, who had made no attempt to conceal his efforts to follow them. Her face became concerned and James worried for a moment. Was she worried about him? Was it the shadows? Or, most likely, was he crazy, and this woman was justifiably concerned about a stalker?\n\n_Oh, please just ignore me_ , he thought with a bit of apprehension, and suddenly she did.\n\nShe appeared momentarily confused. She looked about herself as if she were attempting to regain her bearings. Spying her companion, who was trying to pull her across the street in order to cross with the walk sign, she came to her senses, put a smile on her face, and then moved along without a care in the world.\n\nJames didn't follow; he just watched them as they left. He thought about warning the young man but stopped when he imagined how that conversation would go:\n\n\"She's just using you for sex,\" he would say.\n\n\"Great,\" would be the reply.\n\n\"You don't understand. She's a demon and will suck the orgasmic energy from you.\"\n\n\"You mean she'll kill me?\"\n\n\"No, not at all. She'll give you a fantastic orgasm, feed on your neural energy, and then leave you alone.\"\n\n\"Fantastic, thanks for the great news.\"\n\nNo. Even if the man would believe such a rant, he would most likely still have sex with her. Men were often stupid that way. After a moment, James decided to head home but stopped abruptly when he spied an odd shadow. It stood apart from the rest, and unlike them, it was moving away from him. It seemed oddly determined as it wound its way down the street. James took a closer look at it, and his head took a mental punch as he did.\n\n_It's a shade_ , he thought.\n\nMuch like with the succubus, the information leaped into his mind. He just knew what the thing was, but couldn't say how he knew, he just did. Unlike the other shadows, this form was a beast in and of itself. Shadowlike in appearance, but a demon in its own right—much like the succubus—and tonight it was on a hunt.\n\nJames followed it quickly and curiously and soon found himself at the Olympic Sculpture Park. They passed several bushes and the odd art work that lined the pathways. Eventually, they made their way down the gravel path and to the large metal structures on the east end. These giant iron forms were two stories high, resembled large waves, and made one feel small next to them. Through those waves rode the shade, searching for something.\n\nJames could almost feel it himself. Amongst the sculpture was a weakening life, and it drew the beast to it; somewhere, huddled in the darkness of these mammoth structures, someone was dying.\n\nThe shade was gone, and James had to walk in and around the undulating structures in order to regain sight of it. When he did, he discovered that it had encircled a prone girl, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two years old. She was somewhat obscured to him, but James blinked and could suddenly see through the shade. It was feeding as it held its prey captive.\n\nJames stood several feet away and watched in awe. He kneeled and brought himself within direct line of sight of the lone human figure and the apparition that was attracted to it. He could feel the beast as he watched it. It was ancient, much older than the succubus, and for the last several centuries it had lain dormant. It had been awakened as a bear awakes for summer, and it had moved slowly across the waters to a new land, drawn by an unexplained urge. Now it needed food, and a dying human was perfect for its need. All this knowledge came easily to James; this was a shadow with a soul, and that soul was now revealed.\n\nThe shade moved its tendril into the girl, entering through her eyes. It invaded her mind and could feel her life weakening as its essence merged with hers. James was fascinated. The beast was mindless in spirit, but as James probed it he could begin to feel cells and neurons as well as circulating blood and a weak heartbeat. It was as if the beast was becoming a conduit for the girl's physical state.\n\nAfter a moment, James suddenly realized what he was doing. He stood rapidly and made his way to the girl. He may be going mad, but that was no reason to let someone suffer. He stooped to her and put his finger to her throat. Oblivious to the needs and wants of the shade conjured by his schizophrenic mind, he checked her pulse and then felt for a fever.\n\nThe girl gasped suddenly and flailed about.\n\n\"Relax, I'm just here to help,\" the words had little effect until he repeated them a few times. She then calmed slightly.\n\nHe examined her as best as he could in the dim light and knew she was bad. James had seen enough methamphetamine addicts to recognize a bad reaction, and he knew very well the damage that could be done by those drugs. She was labored in her breathing, and her heart was arrhythmic; he could discern that easily by its loud and rapid beating.\n\nHe felt a push against his mind accompanied by a slight mental punch. The girl began to flail more wildly and James had to grip her firmly.\n\n\"Fight it!\" he whispered to her calmly.\n\nHis mind exploded in light and the girl gasped as she convulsed. Her back arched, and he had a difficult time maintaining his grip as she began to spasm. In fear of being hurt, he let her go and gave her room to convulse while ensuring she didn't hurt herself. A guttural scream came into his mind, and he knew the shade was in pain. It tried to release itself but couldn't—it was trapped. Its tendrils, which it had been used to feed, now kept it captive as its food source fought the invasion. The creature began to claw for its very survival.\n\nJames' mind snapped back to reality, and he turned her to her side, laying her out. He split his mental energies and concentrated on caring for his new ward while battling the images in his mind. The girl was real, he knew that. However, the shadow images were symptoms of a psychotic break and he had to fight them, at least until this young life was saved.\n\nWhen the girl began to calm, he retrieved his phone and dialed.\n\n\"911, what is the nature of your emergency?\"\n\n\"My name is James Connor. I'm currently at the Olympic Sculpture Park at the base of the _Wake_ exhibit. I have a young female in her early twenties. She appears to be suffering from a drug overdose...\"\n\nHe continued to give the pertinent details, and when he was assured that an ambulance was on its way, he passed on medical information for the soon-to-be arriving paramedics.\n\nJames put the phone down, leaving it on speakerphone as per the request of the 911 operator. He pulled off his jacket and placed it under the girl's head. She began to convulse again and he moved away, allowing her safe movement while still ensuring her head was supported. He mentally timed the length of the seizure and fought for his own clarity of thought as the shade screamed and fought for release.\n\nHis mind continued to play tricks on him. He could see her eyes become vacant and then translucent. The shade had used the eyes as an entry point, and now that it fought for release, those eyes bore the brunt of the assault. James continued to track the girl's vitals. Her heart was still racing, but her seizure began to calm.\n\n\"You're going to be okay. Help is on the way,\" he told her.\n\nShe began flailing again, and then put her hands to her eyes in an attempt to claw them out. James saw her draw blood and quickly grabbed her hands away. He held her wrists tightly and hoped that he could contain her.\n\n_Fight this_ , he thought to her wishfully.\n\nHis mind reeled again in pain as the shade punched him mentally. The girl gasped, arched up to a sitting position, and buried herself into his chest. He held her wrists tightly and fought the urge to release his grip. He wished to put his hands over his ears; the shade was screaming in agony, causing him pain.\n\nThe girl remained close, and he could hear her heavy breathing next to his ear. As they sat in a lover's embrace, the remaining tendrils of the shade that extended from her body wrapped around him, and he could begin to feel its primal fear. It had never experienced food that fought back in such a manner. In the past, its food had fought for life, for escape, and on occasion it had won. However, this was different. This was a counterattack.\n\nThe shade couldn't understand what was happening to it, it was too simple of a creature. James, on the other hand, felt all sides of the battle: hers, the creature's, and his own. He likened the experience to a shark that had finally been baited, hooked, and now fought for freedom; this particular shark before him was losing.\n\nJames added his will to the battle, and the viciousness lessened. The girl began to calm slightly, and when he felt it was safe, he lowered her to the ground gently. When he was certain she would not claw at her face again, James let her go.\n\nJames' mind became acutely aware of his surroundings. He was cognizant of the girl's continued struggle, the 911 operator on his phone who was asking for an update, and the now approaching paramedics. James couldn't see them, but he could hear them calling out.\n\n\"Over here,\" he called. \"Follow my voice. We're on the far side of the structure.\" The paramedics continued to listen as James called out, and eventually they found him. As they approached, he stood and backed away to allow them room to work.\n\nJames picked up his phone, quickly informed the operator of the paramedics' arrival, and thanked her for her service.\n\n\"What happened here?\" asked one of the men.\n\n\"Unclear, I just happened to be enjoying the park at night when I came across her.\"\n\n\"Lucky for her that you did.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, but she really needs a hospital. At the moment, you gentleman are more important for her than I am.\"\n\n\"Any idea what caused this?\"\n\nJames looked at the girl. The shade was now difficult to distinguish from the person that lay before him. It had become infused with her, and as it did so, he could see into her mind, and into her body. It was almost as if he were seeing a cross between an x-ray and an MRI. Her veins and bones had become a dark purple hue all the way down her legs and arms, throughout her circulatory system, and into her heart—and of course those eyes. Unlike the succubus, who appeared human in one vision and demoness in another, this girl had only one vision for James, and it was a blended mix.\n\nHe thought for a moment and attempted a controlled eye blink, searching for her mind. Images of the girl came to him, similar in form to the ones that he had envisioned with the succubus. He watched curiously as they played across his vision. He saw her offer a man on the street a silver necklace, the man then repaid the kindness with crystal meth. It had been hours ago, but the effects of the drug were still strong.\n\n\"I believe it's crystal meth, or some variation. I imagine she's having a bad reaction to whatever chemical mixture was used. I've seen enough garbage on the street to know the reaction could be caused by a bad batch. Even if the dosage is not lethal, the poor chemical composition could still kill her.\n\n\"Are you a cop?\" a paramedic asked.\n\n\"No,\" James replied. \"Just a consultant, but I've conferred with the police before. It's what I do.\"\n\nThe paramedic, intent on listening to her heart, nodded his understanding and agreement without verbally replying.\n\n\"What the hell is wrong with her eyes?\" the other one asked as he swept them with his light.\n\nJames came in close and tried to see what the man was witnessing. He hadn't been able to see her eyes clearly before in the dark, at least not in a way that his fracturing mind would allow anyone to call normal.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" he asked carefully. He could discern nothing but a slightly glowing violet color to her orbits\n\n\"I would expect pinpoint and fixed pupils, but these appear...\" he trailed off before continuing. \"Hell, I don't know what I'm seeing.\"\n\n\"Sweetie,\" said the first man, \"can you hear me? I need to know if you have taken any drugs recently. Can you answer me, please? Have you taken any drugs?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" was the labored reply.\n\n\"Okay, it's all right. I just need to know what it was. Can you tell me?\"\n\nShe began to squirm and convulse again. She was attempting to get away from everyone, but she was far too weak to make a real effort of it.\n\n\"Ma'am, we're not the police. We only care about your health. Now please tell us what you took.\"\n\n\"Meth,\" was the slow reply as she stopped fighting and slumped down. \"I traded a necklace for some meth.\"\n\nJames became more distant from the scene. He didn't physically remove himself, but he mentally disconnected. The paramedic's comment about her eyes, coupled with the admittance of the necklace as purchase for drugs, was giving him pause for thought.\n\n\"Alright, now can you tell me your name?\"\n\n\"Vera,\" was the quiet and weak reply.\n\n\"Okay, Vera, we're going to take good care of you. We're going to get you to a hospital, okay, sweetie?\"\n\nVera didn't respond verbally but nodded her understanding while clutching for James. She grabbed his hand and wouldn't let go.\n\n\"Let's get her to Harborview,\" said James. He knew from his work that it was the best trauma ward in the state and was only a mile away.\n\n\"Agreed,\" replied one of the other men.\n\nThe paramedics continued to attend to her, and it wasn't long before they had her on their stretcher; each time they had need of her hand, she released it only long enough accommodate them before reaching for James again. The men quickly pulled the stretcher up and began to remove her from the scene. James followed along, his hand firmly grasped in hers. The men had wrapped her warmly with a blanked and strapped her down, but James could still see her clearly, as if those objects weren't obstructing his view.\n\nThe MRI analogy stuck with him as he watched her heart beat and her eyes blink. He couldn't see the lids move, per se, because even when she shut her eyes their translucence extended beyond the skin. It was more akin to a slight disturbance or the flicker of a light bulb; he appeared to be the only one to notice, and the odd comment of the paramedic faded in his mind as he considered his own mental state.\n\nThe group made their way to the street and to the parked ambulance at the curb; its lights were flashing steadily. The paramedics took care of their charge efficiently and made ready to load her. As they did, James felt a small tickle in his mind, and then an intrusion. His thoughts became fuzzy and his vision followed. He shook his head, took a deep breath and blinked his eyes rapidly. Much like a drunk man who might use all of his mental energy to focus on one thing, he concentrated on clarity of mind.\n\nHis head snapped up and turned to his left, looking up the hill to the east. There were some onlookers but not many, and the only one that stood out from the crowd was a goddess; she was staring at him intently. Almost in a stupor, he returned the gaze and found that he could look nowhere else.\n\n_Odd_ , he thought for a moment as he pondered the word _goddess_ that had entered his mind.\n\nHowever, _goddess_ was the only word that seemed to fit; she was beautiful, slim figured, but toned in her musculature while her red and brown hair hung behind her head, pinned in some fashion but not exactly a pony tail. For a moment, James had to wonder how she had done it. She also appeared regal, and as he stared, James felt an odd attraction to her even as he marveled at her appearance. For her part, she stared at him intently. James reciprocated, releasing the hand of the girl on the stretcher long enough to stand up straight so that he could command a better view.\n\nHe attempted to probe the woman on the hill, much as he had done with the succubus and the girl that now lay at his side, but his mind was smacked back and he felt blood come to his nose. Cursing under his breath, he held his nostrils with one hand while he searched for something in his pockets to stop the flow of blood. He found a handkerchief and quickly put it to his face.\n\nJames looked back up the hill, half expecting his goddess to be gone, but she remained. She stared at him intently, with unwavering concentration. James was curious but could only consider how odd it was to be watched by someone that didn't blink. For a moment, it was all he could think about. The woman turned her head from side to side, studying and judging him. However, in all that analysis she didn't blink, nor did her eyes leave him. He found it unnerving.\n\nJames looked at her and an idea came to mind. It was slow to arrive and crazy in concept, but he figured that as long as he was going insane, why not attempt the ludicrous.\n\n_Ignore me_ , he thought as he wiped his nose with the handkerchief.\n\nThe goddess didn't blink, but her head and body suddenly snapped to near attention; it was only a slight movement as her posture had been nearly perfect. She looked about herself and her unblinking eyes became wider, which only added to the odd effect of her expression. James watched her look to her left, then her right. She returned her gaze to his direction and watched the paramedics as they loaded their patient. She focused her attention on them but did not appear to make sense of what she saw. Those unblinking eyes slowly became determined as they swept again to the left and then upwards to the heavens.\n\nAfter a moment, she paused in her reverie of the skyline. It was if a thought were dawning on her, and her head came gently down and back to target. She stared at James' position for a moment, and he saw her blink just once, but it was all the sign he needed to know that she could see him again. She smiled wryly and then carefully nodded her head in acknowledgement of his presence.\n\n\"Mr. Connor, will you be going with us? This little lady is demanding it.\"\n\nThe goddess heard the question by the paramedics, and her smile turned from a wry one to one of happiness and victory. James turned to the men as they were about to close the doors. Not sure what to do but realizing that it was probably safer to be around other individuals, he nodded.\n\n\"Yes, I believe I will. Thank you, gentlemen.\"\n\nHe hopped inside, careful of his footing as the vehicle was parked on an incline, and took a seat next to the girl. The doors were then shut and the ambulance soon pulled away.\n\nArinai watched from her vantage point, waiting patiently for the walk sign to change as her quarry drove away. When it did, she crossed the street at a gentle gait and enjoyed the pleasing emotion that she associated with following the simple pedestrian rules of mankind. She stopped on the spot where he had stood, and then moved over to where the ambulance had been. She closed her eyes and cast out her mind. It raced across the city and to the vehicle with its four occupants; they were nearing the hospital. Her mind then returned to her current spot and from there it raced across the park. The shadows had now retreated. They had left the area, departing the park at the same time as their human interest and her prey. To her, everything appeared to be peaceful.\n\nHowever, something was wrong, and Arinai could feel it rather than see it. It had been a long time since she had felt so at odds with the world. The summoning to this city was certainly unusual. It had been a desire such as one might feel for a walk or a particular food. However, her current trepidation bordered more on fear, and while she was pleased that she had seen the object of her search, she was quickly becoming anxious.\n\n\"Oh, Mr. Connor,\" she whispered into the night air. She was proud that she had a name to research but afraid of what that research would discover. \"What is it that you have done tonight?\" she finished carefully.\n\nThe wind howled around her, but she was left standing alone with no answer.\n\n### Chapter 4\n\nThe following day, James entered Harborview Hospital and made his way to the admissions desk. A friendly face greeted him and he smiled in return.\n\n\"James Connor,\" he said to her. \"You have a young lady by the name of Vera that was admitted late last night. I rode in the ambulance with her to ensure her safe arrival. I would like to check on her status, if I may?\"\n\n\"Of course, are you family?\"\n\nJames shook his head, \"Nothing like that, I just happened to be the one that found her. She was in distress, so I facilitated her medical attention.\"\n\n\"Ah, a White Knight,\" the woman said with a smile. \"Well, it's not normal procedure, but I'll see what I can do.\" She looked through the records for a moment. \"Here it is, Vera Linn Monroe. She's in recovery. But I would have to verify that it's okay to allow you up.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" he replied, \"I wouldn't want to upset the Ladies of the Gate.\"\n\nThe receptionist smiled at the compliment, made a quick phone call, nodded her head, and then gave him the room number.\n\n\"It appears that you're expected,\" she said, before giving him the room number.\n\nJames pursed his lips. He may be expected but that bit of news was not.\n\n\"I can give you a map,\" the nurse said as she began to hand him a piece of paper with line diagrams on it.\n\n\"No need,\" he said. \"I've done consulting work for the hospital and still have my ID badge.\"\n\nTo prove his point, James produced a badge. It was one of many he had, securely locked away due to the high level of access that his badges could give him to the many businesses of the Seattle area.\n\nJames thanked the woman for her assistance and headed off, deep in thought as he wound his way through the hospital. As he made his way through the maze of corridors, he began to think that he might be crazier than just being schizophrenic. He wasn't certain why he was here—morbid curiosity, perhaps, or possibly a need to verify that his mind was actually buckling, fracturing into several pieces in the midst of society. Eventually, his mind returned to the girl—the one that was unexpectedly expecting him.\n\nWhen the ambulance had arrived at the hospital the previous night, there had been no other mention of trouble with the girl. As they drove, James could see the odd transformation, but the paramedics, outside of the odd comment about her eyes, had mentioned nothing else. To them, she was merely a young woman with a bad reaction to drugs.\n\nAfter they had rolled her stretcher into the hospital and the attending had given her a once over, she was carted off. James had thought about following, but Vera had fallen asleep by that time, and the lack of overt concern for the girl by the medical staff allowed him to relax. He had then taken a cab home and happily went back to bed.\n\nThroughout the day, he had pondered her situation and his memory of the previous night's events. He couldn't determine which he found more curious, his memories of the night or his calm demeanor to the fact that he was going insane. Regardless, he decided that he would check in on the young lady.\n\nHe found her room well enough. She shared it with three others, but she was the only one with visitors; there were several individuals that crowded around her. Vera was situated in the far bed, sitting upright and talking, while the other patients in the room were either ignoring her or had drawn their curtain for privacy. James was mildly pleased as he observed her; she appeared to be human in appearance.\n\nAt first no one noticed him, and he took a moment to get a good look at his ward of just the night before. She was pleasant to look at and still sported her childish musculature, caught somewhere between a young lady and a woman. Her auburn hair was stringy and her complexion pale, but this was often the case of people in hospitals, especially those in her situation. Overall, he knew that she would continue to mature into a fine looking woman.\n\nUnsure whether to proceed, James stared for a moment and assessed the situation. He could see that Vera was fully conscious and recovering well. She was currently propped up by pillows, talking amiably with a well-dressed and seemingly affluent couple. By their age, he guessed they were her parents. The only medical staff near her was a nurse who checked a few instruments and then left, passing James with a quick nod as she did.\n\nIn mid-sentence, Vera stopped talking, became contemplative, and then turned her head quickly to him. Violet glowing eyes stared at him, and James felt oddly vulnerable. The smile was gone from her lips, and the two of them regarded each other in a curious manner. He wondered why his mind had chosen her for such a hallucination; she appeared thoughtful for very different reasons. After a moment, the woman at Vera's side, who had looked back and forth from the man at the door and the girl in the bed, spoke up.\n\n\"May we help you?\" she asked.\n\nJames shook his head. \"I apologize,\" he stammered. He then waved his hand slightly in an off the cuff manner, \"I have several things on my mind at the moment and didn't mean to stare. I'm James Connor. I found this young lady last night and called the paramedics. I wanted to check in on her and see if she was recovering.\"\n\n\"Oh, you're the one,\" the woman said as she smiled appreciatively. She approached and extended a hand. \"I'm Teresa Monroe, Vera's mother. This is my husband, Thomas.\" The man she introduced didn't respond, he just nodded and looked grim.\n\n\"I wanted to thank you for your assistance,\" Teresa said as she shook James' hand.\n\nJames smiled, \"Not at all, I was just glad to be of assistance.\"\n\n\"Don't forget about me!\" came a small and shrill voice; a child of about six or seven years old made her way to James' position.\n\nThe woman smiled and held her bearing during the onslaught, \"And this little jewel is our youngest daughter, Anna,\" Teresa said as the child pushed forward.\n\nJames smiled and nodded.\n\n\"Are you a real angel?\" asked the girl in awe.\n\nJames became wide-eyed at the question.\n\n\"Leave him alone, Jelly Bean,\" Vera said to the girl. \"He has enough to deal with and doesn't need you harassing him.\"\n\nVera's statement was said with a smile, and Anna scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue in mock anger, but that didn't last long. She smiled in return, and then headed to her sister.\n\n\"You just wait till you get home,\" Anna said. \"I'll make you do all your chores and mine too.\"\n\n\"Yeah, good luck with that, Jelly Bean,\" was the reply.\n\nAnna and Vera continued to playfully squabble, and James watched for a minute. They appeared to share a true affinity for each other. Vera even took on an immature demeanor and played with her much younger sibling, matching the younger girl for maturity level.\n\nJames was familiar with this type of interaction; the girls shared a love for each other that was born from siblings of disparate ages. The older one was far enough advanced from the other to avoid sibling rivalry. It was actually pleasant to watch them as they continued to tease each other.\n\nThrough it all, no one seemed to notice anything odd about the patient. Now that the girl appeared to be mostly normal, James had to wonder just what his fractured mind saw in her. Blinking consciously, James could once again see Vera's translucent form. The sudden return of the vision didn't even startle him; he was beginning to reach a comfort level with his insanity.\n\nThe hallucination was obviously still in force, and he watched as the tendrils moved about her body. They no longer appeared to have a life of their own. Instead, they were just another part of her body, merged into her essence and flowing as if they were blood. The two girls continued to chatter, and Mrs. Monroe turned her attention back to James, who had blinked again, returning his vision to normal.\n\n\"You'll have to forgive them. They can be a little odd at times. Their father has attempted to instill rudimentary civility, but so far he has been unsuccessful.\"\n\nJames smiled, \"Not to worry, I'm just pleased that Vera is doing well. What did Anna mean when she asked if I was an angel?\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm sure she was equating you to a guardian angel,\" she said, but her eyes betrayed an underlying meaning, and she tilted her head slightly indicating that she would like a word alone. James looked to Vera and could see that she was still engrossed with her sister; she was tickling her viciously and Anna was squealing.\n\nJames left the room and took a few steps down the hallway, Mrs. Monroe followed.\n\n\"It was James O'Connor?\"\n\n\"No, it's Connor.\"\n\n\"Ah, please forgive me. I do want to thank you for your assistance. We've been told that Vera could have died if you hadn't found her.\"\n\nMr. Monroe entered the hall and quickly spotted the couple talking. He looked very displeased, putting a frown on his face as he joined them. He stood close to his wife, taking up a position that seemed to indicate a protective stance. He didn't want James too close to his wife. Mrs. Monroe didn't acknowledge her husband as she continued to speak.\n\n\"Vera was very distraught, and her condition took hours to stabilize,\" she said. \"In that time she told some very odd tales about the evening. I'm afraid that Anna heard about some of them. The doctors said she was hallucinating from the drugs. I just wanted you to know about that, but more importantly, I wanted you to know that Vera is a good girl. She is rarely in trouble and is just going through a phase. Please don't judge her.\"\n\nJames understood and nodded his head, \"Not to worry, Mrs. Monroe. In my field, we see quite a bit. I have learned not to judge people.\"\n\n\"Just what were you doing in the park last night?\" asked Mr. Monroe with a suspicious tone. The tone didn't escape the attention of either Mrs. Monroe or James.\n\nJames eyed the man quizzically before answering.\n\n\"I was going for a walk. I couldn't sleep, and I find the solitude of the park to be relaxing. I live just a few blocks away.\"\n\n\"And that's all?\" asked the man. He didn't believe James—that fact was apparent to everyone.\n\nJames furrowed his brow before answering. He didn't like being accused of something, especially when he didn't know what that something was.\n\n\"Am I missing something here?\" he asked in an attempt to confront the man before him.\n\n\"The doctors told me that she got meth from someone on the street. I just want to know if that was you.\"\n\n\"Thomas!\" cried Mrs. Monroe.\n\nJames was incredulous, and the shock was apparent on his face.\n\n\"Teresa, stay out of this. I have a right to know if this is the man that caused this situation,\" Mr. Monroe stated. \"Maybe he gave her the drugs and called the ambulance to save his reputation.\"\n\nJames angered slightly. He closed his position and spoke clearly and calmly. He didn't like hostile confrontations, but he had learned that sometimes they couldn't be avoided. His attorney had also trained him to calmly nip these situations in the bud, ending them before they could start.\n\n\"I suggest you watch what you say, Mr. Monroe,\" James seethed. \"I can appreciate the fact that you are concerned for your daughter, but what you're accusing me of is very close to slander. I have a career to protect, and if you continue to make such flagrant accusations then you'll receive a cease and desist letter from my attorney.\"\n\n\"I welcome it,\" the man said, holding his ground, \"and you better pray your attorney is better than I am. I'm one of the best in Seattle.\"\n\nThe two men glared at each other before Teresa quickly stepped in. \"Thomas, you need to apologize!\" she said sternly.\n\nNo one spoke for a moment as silence held sway in the hallway. Mr. Monroe didn't apologize, but he did back down, if only slightly. He appeared to be disgusted and walked off down the hall, perhaps in search of coffee or a bathroom. He stopped near the end of the corridor, turned around as if to look at the artwork on the walls, and maintained visual contact with his wife and James. Teresa appeared embarrassed but maintained support of the man to whom she was married.\n\n\"I'm sorry for that, Mr. Connor, but perhaps you should go. When he gets like this he can be rather difficult.\"\n\nJames was insulted by the brush off, but he didn't want to argue the point.\n\n\"Is it alright if I say goodbye to Vera?\" he asked, and then as he considered the situation he had to shrug his shoulders. \"Truth be told, I've never really said hello.\"\n\nTeresa thought about the request for a moment, looked down the hall to her husband, and then quickly nodded her head. She seemed to want to get the interaction over with.\n\nJames entered the room, and Vera looked up as he did. Anna was on the bed, snuggled up to her sister. The young girl must have brought a book and somehow convinced her sister to read it to her; it probably didn't take much convincing, judging by the look of affection between the two.\n\n\"I just wanted to say goodbye. I'm James Connor, by the way. I know we weren't properly introduced, but I understand you're Vera. Sorry we didn't meet under better circumstances.\n\n\"Oh, that's cool,\" Vera said, casually. \"It's nice to meet you, too.\"\n\nThe violet eyes stared at him, and he stared back, getting lost in them as he did. Vera smiled broadly, seemingly fascinated by the man before her. Her head tilted one way and then another.\n\nJames thought about the patient that rested on the bed. He attempted a slight probe, and an image of the girl entered his mind. He had half expected his psychosis to do nothing, and half expected it to change the image before him into something else, perhaps a smurf or a dancing bear. Instead, his mind was whisked to a distant field and a set of toys.\n\nHe could feel an arousal of emotion as he watched Vera play with her sister in a park. She was pushing Anna on a swing, and the younger sister was asking to be pushed higher. Vera's hair was done nicely and her makeup was well applied; she was a very pretty young lady when she was properly dressed. He couldn't help feeling those thoughts and emotions strongly as he watched the two siblings play within his mind's eye.\n\nWithin the hospital room, the emotions he perceived from Vera quickly changed from happiness, due to playing with her sister, to pleasure at being found attractive. James jerked back in shock from the vision, the feelings that it evoked, and the realization the Vera could sense his attraction to her well-dressed appearance. He blinked rapidly for a moment to clear his head. The reaction by Vera was much the same. She appeared confused and stammered something for a second, but no words came forth.\n\nEmbarrassed by his thoughts, James begged his leave. He wished Vera a speedy recovery, said good-bye to Anna, and left the room. As he left, he nodded to Mrs. Monroe and suffered through a glare from her husband, who had been standing at the door watching him carefully. The man had a very untrusting nature, and James didn't care for it.\n\n### Chapter 5\n\nMusic played through James' head as he slept. The melody was haunting, and he found himself transported along whatever meandering course it chose to take him. He soon came to realize that he was asleep, and with that realization his mind began to move towards a waking state. The music was unaffected by his stirring mind, and James concentrated on the notes in an effort to place the tune and ensure it didn't slip away.\n\nAs the melody continued, visions came to mind. He could see a woman's form far across a vast field of green. It danced and ran about merrily. The form then transported itself to a small group of people surrounding a fire while laughing and dancing to the same tune in his head; James followed along as best he could. Once again, the figure moved onward, stopping from time to time to share the music that seemed to flow from it. James pursued each time, attempting to discern a face. He couldn't.\n\nThe music grew louder, and he thought that it would soon crescendo, but he was to be disappointed. Each time the music seemed about to peak, it dipped back down and moved off into a subtle variation. Its constant teasing frustrated the man attempting to pin it down.\n\nIt was several seconds before James realized that he was awake and still hearing music. He sat up and rubbed his temples. He concentrated on the music as it continued to increase in volume, almost as if the source were getting closer. It stopped suddenly, and James was left alone with nothing but the silence of his room.\n\nHe lifted his head and looked about himself. The master bedroom of his unit was spacious, and the entire outer wall was glass, much like his living room. When he chose to have the drapes open, as they were now, the architecture allowed him plenty of light from the city. Taking a deep breath, James shook his head and got up. It wasn't too late—just after midnight—but he knew his mind wouldn't let him go back to sleep.\n\nA knock caused his head to jerk up and his mind to respond by focusing his attention. He could have sworn that it was his front door, but he wasn't expecting anyone and no one would have been allowed up to his unit without his permission. Thinking about what he had heard, he was at a loss. He listened again, straining to verify if he had heard anything at all. A moment later, a second knock could be heard.\n\nCurious, he put on some pants and a shirt and made his way to the front entryway, turning on lights as he did. Without bothering to look through his peep hole, he opened the door and immediately became confused by what he saw. There was someone standing before him, innocent in expression but expectant all the same.\n\nNeither person spoke as they looked at each other—they simply stared. James recognized the woman, of course, and he studied her carefully, even as she watched him with those unblinking eyes.\n\nShe still had her regal bearing, fine clothes, and jewelry that was tastefully worn; nothing too gaudy, but enough to accent her figure nicely. An odd thought came to mind as he realized that he must look like a mess.\n\nThe woman before him smiled suddenly, and her hand went to her mouth as she stifled a laugh. James' eyes widened for a moment when he realized the she had somehow known his thoughts.\n\n\"Not exactly,\" she said with minor amusement, \"but, I do get impressions.\"\n\nJames again said nothing, and she looked at him as he was trying to come to grips with the situation. A moment later, she decided to end the stalemate.\n\n\"You could invite a lady in,\" she said while still sporting a friendly smile.\n\nJames came to some semblance of hospitality, nodded his head, and turned sideways to allow entry.\n\n\"Of course,\" he said, \"please.\" The request was followed by a welcoming gesture of his hand.\n\nThe woman nodded her head and walked past. She headed down the small entryway and into the open living room.\n\n\"Very nice,\" she said. \"I imagine this place must have cost a small fortune.\"\n\n\"It will by the time it's paid off,\" he replied. \"Technically, the bank still owns it.\"\n\nShe smiled as she walked the room, looking at the odd pieces of art and from time to time enjoying the wondrous view of the city and its surroundings. She could see across the Sound and just below, on ground level, she could see a section of Post Alley and the market.\n\n_I shall have to stop there and watch them throw fish_ , she thought to herself. She had heard that the fish merchants threw the fish in order to fulfill orders, but as of yet she hadn't made the time to witness the phenomenon.\n\nJames had felt the woman's thoughts as he watched her marveling at the view. It was an odd sensation for him, almost as if she were mentioning a whim while speaking to a dear friend. Curious, he began to wonder who she was and what she was doing here. He was about to ask her these exact questions when she turned to him.\n\n\"I believe you were about to freshen up,\" she said casually.\n\nJames could see the playfulness in her eyes; she was enjoying herself immensely, and he didn't know why. He thought about asking her, but decided to use her suggestion, and take care of his personal hygiene; the few hours of sleep he had been able to obtain had been enough to sour his mouth. Unsure what to say in response, he decided to say nothing, and just nodded his head in agreement. He then headed to his bathroom, leaving the woman to her own devices.\n\nJames quickly ran a brush through his hair, added some deodorant and a bit of cologne, and then set about brushing his teeth. He spit once, and before continuing, asked a question.\n\n\"How did you get all the way up to my apartment?\" he asked, returning the brush to his mouth and continuing to clean as she replied.\n\n\"It was easy enough. The lobby door was opened, and I entered before it closed. The attendant even said _hello_ to me, although he didn't question my presence in a secure building.\"\n\n\"And the elevator?\" James asked as he spit again and moved to the mouthwash.\n\n\"Easy enough, I asked the attendant to swipe his badge and activate the floor I needed. He did so, then happily went back to his duties.\"\n\nJames re-entered the living room drying his hands on a towel as he did so. He tossed the towel onto his kitchen island.\n\n\"How did you do all of that?\"\n\n\"You tell me, Oracle,\" she responded with a wry smile.\n\nJames eyed her carefully but said nothing. Another quiet moment was shared before he broke the silence and quietly asked, \"Who are you?\"\n\nShe nodded acknowledgment of the question but didn't immediately answer. Instead, she took another look at the room and thought about her response.\n\n\"My name is Arinai,\" she said after a moment of reverie, \"and much like you, I have been endowed with certain gifts.\" She paused for another moment, then decided to get this over with in much the same way as one removes a band-aid: quickly.\n\n\"I was born in Europe approximately 1700 years ago, around the time of the fall of the Roman Empire. I don't recall the exact area or even the year—it's been too long, and calendars weren't at all common at that time. However, I would guess it was somewhere in the Germanic or Ukraine region around 250 A.D. As to the area, I can recall the Alps clearly in my memory. My people blessed those mountains that held back the Roman invasions; the Romans didn't care for the treacherous ground.\"\n\nArinai moved about the room as she spoke. \"At the time of my birth, Rome had been falling for decades. Their troops were failing them, and their empire had been split into the east and west for bureaucratic reasons. That political decision hastened their decline. It was at this time that my people arose. We were called the Keltoi, which later became the Celts. Other names I'm sure you're familiar with: the Germanic, the Druids, the Norse, the Pagans, and many others, but in essence we were a people with very different gods than the Romans. Not better or worse, just different, and for nearly a thousand years we thrived.\"\n\nShe paused for a moment and stared out the window. She appeared so calm and collected as she spoke that James had a hard time discerning the rationality of the scene before him with the story he was hearing. In appearance, Arinai was a visitor—a simple woman standing in his living room enjoying the view. In reality, she was adding to his psychosis with words of fancy.\n\n\"As we ruled, there were tough times, but there were also wondrous times. We had many of those. I can recall water nymphs dancing in the moonlight and villagers laughing and singing our songs. The druids were kind and wise, and our warriors were fierce. But Rome eventually began to rise again, and our people began to decline. The cycle of life continued on its way, oblivious to the people it affected,\" she spoke slowly as she mused over the last statement, before turning and walking about the apartment.\n\nJames wasn't certain how to handle what he was hearing; to say he was skeptical was an understatement. He was wary of this woman who moved about the room, absently taking in his life from the various photographs and artwork. She stopped suddenly, turned to him, and smiled coyly.\n\n\"You don't believe me?\" she asked.\n\n\"I'm an atheist,\" was his only reply.\n\nArinai chuckled as she nodded her head with understanding. She eventually stopped laughing but kept her smile in place.\n\n\"So am I,\" was her mischievous reply.\n\nSilently, they considered each other for a moment.\n\n\"I have lived on this world for a long time, and I have seen much. But for all I have seen I can't claim an ultimate power or some mystical force beyond us all. There are things I can't explain, and I'm sure you have similar challenges, but I do know what I have seen and experienced have had a very real impact on this world. Perhaps we will one day understand it, and maybe science will be able to explain it. For the moment, I can only offer empirical evidence.\"\n\nJames was curious by this comment and warily moved forward.\n\n\"What kind of empirical evidence?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure,\" she said as she considered the notion. \"But I'm certain we can find something.\" She smiled, and then a thought suddenly occurred to her. \"How do you currently explain what is happening to you?\" she asked.\n\n\"What do you mean by 'what is happening to me?'\" he asked.\n\n\"I can feel your odd presence of mind, and I saw you last week at the blood pit. That was very interesting, by the way. It was certainly something that I have never seen before. These shadows that follow you are also something I have never witnessed. Do you know what they are?\"\n\nJames didn't answer immediately; he didn't want to reveal too much. Arinai appeared to understand and waved off his reluctance. She laughed as she remembered something.\n\n\"That trick you played on me the other day was very mean of you. One moment we were staring at each other, and the next moment I couldn't see you. Then a second later, I had forgotten where I was and what I was searching for. It took great concentration for me to come back to the moment and relocate you. How did you do that?\" Arinai asked her question with sincerity born from kindness as well as curiosity. It was so politely asked that James found himself answering before he considered whether he should.\n\n\"I merely told you to ignore me,\" was his reply.\n\n\"And that was all it took?\"\n\n\"Apparently.\"\n\n\"My, my, you are powerful,\" she said with admiration. \"I believe that this will be a very interesting time for us. I have seen many spirits and demons and gods over the years, but we've never had an oracle.\"\n\n\"Why do you call me that?\"\n\n\"It's what you are,\" she said matter-of-factly. \"I have that information on good authority.\"\n\nShe saddened for a moment as she spoke, and her eyes fell downward. She was morose over the fall of a comrade, a fellow god, and James could sense it, although he wasn't exactly sure how.\n\n\"I thought you said you were an atheist,\" he commented. \"What kinds of gods have you seen?\"\n\nShe waved off the comment, unaware of the reasoning behind his question.\n\n\"Semantics,\" she said. \"You and I would not consider them gods, just a powerful entity, but to primitive man, or those unwilling to question religion, the concept tends to remain the same.\"\n\nJames nodded his understanding of the answer to his question, and then asked another.\n\n\"What did you mean when you said that this will be an interesting time?\"\n\nArinai smiled wickedly and moved to James' position. She had only been this close when she had passed him on her way into the apartment, but that proximity wasn't as intimate as it was now. He could smell her perfume—Chanel No.5. It was unmistakable and remarkably common, and the irony of a supposed deity wearing such a banal scent didn't escape him.\n\nShe leaned in close to him. He felt only curiosity and wonderment as she answered the question.\n\n\"Once again, Rome is falling,\" she whispered to him.\n\nFor a moment, his mind became clear and several puzzle pieces fell into place. He was still skeptical, if not in total disbelief, but at least he understood all that she had told him. The fall of Rome had led to her coming to power, and Rome's rise had led to her decline. If Rome was once again falling, then logically her people could return to power. Much like the Republicans and Democrats, who were always in flux.\n\nHe thought for a moment about Rome and its current state of affairs. The Roman Catholic Church was indeed a formidable entity. It had a powerbase that stretched across borders and cultures, through familial loyalties, and into many state coffers. It took billions of tax-free dollars out of those countries every year and commanded a human following of massive proportions. It was also under worldwide assault by the media and a blasé attitude from a rapidly changing society. It was being hammered with stories of homosexual abuse, monetary irresponsibility, child molestation, and many other horrific deeds.\n\nJames looked at a small table next to his reading chair and to the book that sat upon it. It was _The_ _Divine Comedy_ by Dante; an epic poem with long artful passages of scathing remarks directed at the Roman Church of the 14th century. Yes, he could well understand the power that Rome had enjoyed, and he understood that they were weakening. Up to this point, he had only noticed it out of mild curiosity. He considered it a matter of study in religion and politics, but not something to deal with personally.\n\nArinai backed away from James and resumed her position at the window. She seemed curious about the view, enraptured by it, and almost in a trance, she began to speak again.\n\n\"Several months ago, we began to feel a pull to this area,\" she said. \"I could feel it, as could many of our kind. Seattle is Summoning, and everyone that can answer the call is on their way here.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nArinai turned to him and gave him a teasing smile.\n\n\"Why is it summoning, or why do we heed the call?\" she asked. Laughing to herself, she turned back and nodded her head out the window.\n\n\"This is the new world, Oracle,\" she said, \"and we will rise to power in it. Although I imagine that most of our kind don't understand this summoning. They're too young and don't know what it is.\"\n\n\"The Celtic people are coming to Seattle?\" James asked skeptically, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.\n\n\"We are not exactly Celtic, although that is as good a name as any. That name was given to us on our last rise to power,\" she said before glancing over her shoulder at him. James offered her a confused look as if to question her words. She sensed his thoughts, turned back to the window, and spoke again. \"This is not the first time we have risen. It will be the third.\"\n\nArinai paused and became pensive, letting her words sink in, even as she considered them herself.\n\n\"It might even be the fourth or fifth,\" she pondered. \"Truth be told, I don't really know. Our understanding of human history is a smattering of facts intermixed amongst centuries of ignorance. Even today, what survives of Sumeria—or any part of the ancient world before writing existed— is nothing but legend and myth.\"\n\n\"Why here? James asked. \"Wouldn't this fanciful tale be better told in Europe?\n\nArinai chuckled, but kept her gaze outward and nodding her head to point towards the Puget Sound.\n\n\"Tell me what you see, Oracle,\" she said. \"What is outside these windows?\"\n\nJames glanced outward and shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"It's the Puget Sound,\" he said.\n\nArinai laughed quietly.\n\n\"I see much more than that,\" she whispered. \"I see mountains across the way.\"\n\n\"The Olympic mountain range,\" James said.\n\nArinai nodded her head.\n\n\"And to the east are the Cascades,\" she said. \"I also see saltwater connected to fresh water through an ingenious set of waterways.\"\n\nShe was referencing the Ballard locks. James understood the reference, as well as the engineering magnitude it took to create the passageway from the Puget Sound to the inner lakes.\n\n\"I see hills and trees, caves and tunnels,\" she said. \"There is snow on the mountains and rivers running through rock down to the ocean. All in all, this area is much like our last, and still unspoiled in many ways by the passage of man.\"\n\n\"We've made our presence known to Mother Nature,\" James said.\n\nArinai turned to him.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"but Gaia is still here. This area is perfect for out next rising, and while Rome remains static in its power base, the Keltoi do not. We will rise from Seattle, and as we do, Rome will continue to fall.\"\n\n\"It's an interesting tale, but you spoke of empirical evidence,\" he said.\n\nArinai nodded as she backed away from the window. \"Of course, but first I would like to learn about you,\" she said. \"What happened to you?\"\n\nJames was uncertain what she meant and told her as much.\n\n\"Do you know the big difference between Roman Gods and Celtic Gods?\" she asked him curiously.\n\nJames shook his head and snorted slightly in mild derision.\n\n\"Enlighten me,\" he joked.\n\nArinai ignored the condescension.\n\n\"Roman gods stand outside the human race,\" she said, before resuming her self-guided tour of his apartment, walking about and staring at his decorations. \"It was a god such as Zeus who took human form and seduced women, or Aphrodite who walked amongst the villages seeking adoration. Their current God is much the same. A single entity, set apart from their subjects. This new version sees a removal of the pantheon, only to have it replaced with angels and serpents. However, the Keltoi gods move amongst and into the very souls of the people. It's not one of worship, but of communal living. A Celtic god is a symbiotic god. So I ask you again, what happened to you?\"\n\nJames was still unsure how to respond. Arinai sensed his reticence. She took a moment to reflect and then, with his permission, she guided him through memories of his life for the past several months. He told her of the succubus, and she nodded her understanding of the ordeal but not his recollection; it was rare for anyone to recall a sexual encounter with one of those creatures.\n\n\"What did she mean when she said that you weren't human?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\"Then learn,\" was the reply.\n\n\"It's not as if I can just _Google_ that information.\"\n\nArinai moved slowly as if approaching a frightened animal and placed her hands to his head.\n\n\"Think on her,\" she whispered.\"Picture her in your mind and go back to that moment.\"\n\nJames humored her and cast his mind back. He could feel Arinai pushing him along and guiding him. At first, his mind clouded and images swirled. People were laughing and dancing, and he moved amongst them. Soon, the crowd cleared and he saw his prey; it was the succubus he had seen a few nights before.\n\nArinai guided him to the demoness, and suddenly he was into her life. He could see men and parties and then his own apartment. They were having sex, and she was enjoying it immensely. It was an odd sensation to feel what his sexual partner was enjoying; he smiled lightly at the thought.\n\n\"Don't get arrogant, Oracle,\" Arinai said with a snort. \"Succubi feed off of sex. To her, your orgasm was like a prize to be won. The quality of the sex didn't matter as much as the end result.\"\n\nJames heard the words of Arinai but still felt arrogant. Together, they worked the images to the moment of the odd comment by the succubus. He could hear her say that he wasn't human and he suddenly knew why. He pulled Arinai's hands away; she appeared confused for a moment.\n\n\"What did you see?\" she asked.\n\nThe question was odd, and James abruptly realized that Arinai was limited in her powers. She had guided him and could even get impressions, but she didn't see all and she didn't know everything. He sent his mind to hers, sending out a desire to know what she was thinking at this very moment. Arinai shook her head slowly, as if in confusion. He tried to see her just as he had seen the succubus, but something prevented him. Arinai looked at him with confusion before turning cold. She sent a spike to his brain, and the pain caused James to break concentration. He put his hand to his nose half expecting it to bleed again. Luckily, it didn't.\n\nArinai smiled and chuckled.\n\n\"Don't worry, young one. I'm much too powerful for that trick to work on me. However, the others are not so lucky. You'll be able to see the succubi, the incubi, the vampires, and many of the other spirits. Most of them will never be aware of your presence. However, I was honed by someone much more powerful than you. Over centuries he mentally beat me and flogged me. I often awoke in sweat as he permeated my brain while I slept, trying to catch me at my weakest. I have learned to defend myself well, and you'll have little luck against my defenses.\"\n\n\"Vampires?\"\n\nArinai laughed, \"Of course, half human half demon. Did you expect them to be a Roman beast?\"\n\n\"I didn't expect them to be at all,\" he replied as he double checked his nose.\n\n\"Well, mostly they are not. They are the stuff of legends, like many of our kind, and hunted to near extinction by the Church. They can no longer breed—very few of our brethren can—the Church saw to that a long time ago. So attrition has taken its toll. Still, I imagine that a few dozen of each species remain. It would be nice to see a water nymph again. It has been a long time since I have seen one dancing on the waves.\"\n\nJames only stared as she spoke. He had questions, a lot of them, but he refrained from asking. Arinai seemed to understand this, but she had questions of her own and held no reticence about asking them.\n\n\"The succubus?\" she asked with a raised brow.\n\n\"I was unexpected,\" he said with a shrug. \"As I had my orgasm she was hit with an odd sensation. She expected to feed and didn't get what she wanted. She was wounded in the process. To use your _prize_ analogy, she expected one thing and got another instead.\"\n\n\"Curious,\" Arinai said. \"Succubi feed off of mental energy. Any idea why you would be different?\"\n\nJames didn't answer. He just stared, and by her expression, Arinai knew something was amiss. She cast her own mind to his, but his defenses were getting stronger; this time there was no pain from her probe. They both sensed this, and she halted her intrusion before politely restating her question.\n\n\"I have Huntington's Disease,\" he answered.\n\n\"That's even odder. Succubi can only mate with compatible men—you wouldn't have qualified. It would have been dangerous for her to feed off of diseased food. It could have killed her.\"\n\nJames took little offense to the comment about diseased food. Arinai said it so matter-of-factly that he knew there was no insult intended.\n\n\"It sounds like a physiological compatibility issue. We do that ourselves when we're subconsciously attracted to people of certain scents or genetic make-up. The medical community doesn't understand it fully, but they know it exists.\"\n\n\"So the question remains, why would she have chosen you? The only time a succubus would knowingly choose someone who's incompatible is when they're starving. Much like someone dying of thirst will drink salt water. But in this city, and with our power base rising, she would not have chosen you.\"\n\nArinai mused on the topic. She bit her lip as she pondered the information and James smiled. Goddess or not, he liked her and found the eccentricity of the lip biting to be endearing. She paced for a moment as he watched her. He was still attempting to make sense of this entire evening, but for the moment he merely observed and enjoyed the odd scene before him.\n\nArinai turned to him and studied him carefully. He could feel her probe him slightly. It was gentler than before, almost like a polite mental request. He held his own, however, and didn't allow her access. It was almost like a polite game of cat and mouse, and James had to smile as they played. If this was his mind breaking, he at least found it interesting.\n\nArinai's eyes became slits as a thought occurred to her.\n\n_He is hiding something, something I can't see,_ she thought.\n\nJames sensed the thought, but didn't reveal his knowledge of her position.\n\nArinai considered the man before her for a moment, and James wondered what she might do. It seemed as if she wanted to throttle the answers out of him, but instead, she politely asked him one more time why the succubus had thought him inhuman.\n\nJames thought very carefully about his next words. He sighed and nodded slightly before answering.\n\n\"I'm currently undergoing an experimental gene therapy regimen to alleviate the symptoms. It may even cure me.\"\n\nArinai appeared stunned. Her eyes widened and blinked several times. She said nothing and James, believing in the axiom _in for a penny in for a pound_ , took another deep breath and continued to talk.\n\n\"Gene therapy really isn't that risky, as it uses a modified gene to encode for protein. The real trouble is delivering the gene to its target and then getting the gene to work properly. Sometimes the body rejects it, other times it builds up an immunity, and that's if the delivery system can get the gene in place. The technology of this particular trial is patented and highly secretive. It's attempting to bypass the blood brain barrier and provide a controlled over-expression of the RCAN-1L...\"\n\nJames stopped his explanation when he realized his conversationalist wasn't following along. He chuckled slightly and let the matter drop.\n\n\"Science to the rescue?\" Arinai asked rhetorically as she raised a quizzical eye. \"I suppose this regimen allowed your succubus to see you as normal. That would explain a lot. Although, I'm not sure what would have caused you to become like you are.\"\n\nArinai mused for a moment, squishing her lips with her fingers a she did.\n\nJames knew the answer. He could see it in his mind. The succubi, as a breed, use small tendrils that they injected into the brain during sex.\n\n_Quite sublime_ , he thought to himself.\n\nThe fingers sent forth microscopic probes, which anesthetized the cranium before they fed off the neurological energy provided during sex; it was the Dopamine-Prolactin interchange they needed. James had no idea how his mind converted the images to medical terminology, but it did.\n\nHe considered the ability for a moment and found it fascinating to put his scientific mind to something so widely misunderstood. The succubus didn't know what she had needed, she had just fed. But James knew and could now assign a very logical reason for something that, to ancient man, must have appeared magical.\n\nWhen his succubus had her ill fated evening with him, she had left several tendrils behind. Now that he knew this, he could begin to sense them still protruding from his brain, if not his skull. They were almost gone, as they had been nearly absorbed by his body over the past several weeks, but they had done a most important job of opening his mind to new inputs. This was why he could suddenly see into the shadow world without actually being one of them.\n\nHe didn't reveal this information to Arinai; he was still not certain he could trust her. Besides, he had already shared too much. If she revealed his involvement in this clinical trial, he could lose his career and might face prosecution. Uncertain what to do, he asked her a few more questions in an effort to move the topic off of him.\n\nArinai complied and began to tell him stories of her life, how she had grown up, and many of the people she had met and lived with over the years. James was doubtful of all of it, but found it entertaining nonetheless. It was nearly 3 AM when she took her leave. He was tired and had to meet with a client that day.\n\nThey said their goodbyes at the door, and he begged her one more question.\n\n\"Arinai?\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" she replied quizzically, coming in close enough for him to smell her perfume.\n\n\"If your gods are symbiotic, then which god are you? What is your specific talent?\"\n\nArinai laughed and shook her head as she walked out the door.\n\n\"The more important question, Oracle,\" she said cannily, \"is which god are _you_?\"\n\nJames furrowed his brow with confusion and watched her leave. As he did, he marveled at her intellect. In one easy reply she had managed to defer her answer and sow confusion into his mind.\n\nCamulas watched Arinai exit the building and cross the street to join him. She nodded her head in greeting before taking her place next to him. He returned to staring at the building, gazing at the room that Arinai had just left.\n\n\"Will he help us?\" he asked.\n\n\"I don't know. He is very skeptical and still very weak.\"\n\n\"He will grow in strength.\"\n\nArinai nodded her head in agreement.\n\nCamulas remained stern but kept his gaze on the building.\n\n\"We need this one,\" he said thoughtfully. \"I would suggest that you continue to help him and guide him. When the time is right, we will use him to our advantage.\"\n\n\"He is not someone to be used in such a manner.\"\n\nCamulas turned to his companion. She was much smaller in stature but very powerful nonetheless, and he dared not test that power. Still, he spoke his mind without fear.\n\n\"He is a tool, and we will use him as needed. We need our oracle.\"\n\nArinai didn't argue—it would be pointless, anyway. He was the god of war. He had defeated Aries, killing him in an epic battle and upon doing so had taken the Roman god's place. Camulas' ability to survive by cunning battle tactics and trickery was the stuff of legends; even the church had been unable to find him, much less kill him these last few centuries. Arinai knew all of this and would also know that it would not be prudent to argue with him on this point, at least not for the moment. Camulas saw James as a weapon for battle, and he had made that point very clear to her. Resigning herself for the moment, she turned her gaze upward toward the building and joined Camulas as they felt their target drifting off to sleep.\n\nFour blocks away and clinging to a ledge several stories up, Badir watched the watchers. He could see them clearly even from this distance, but he was far enough away to avoid their mental awareness of him.\n\nHe didn't understand what was occurring, but he followed the words of the individuals as their lips moved; it was a neat trick he had learned to blend with his heightened visual acuity. He looked to the building across from the couple, then turned back to the watchers. It took a few moments, but his reference points aligned and he was able to triangulate exactly which unit they were monitoring. He smiled with his victory, and his eyes glinted in the night. He wasn't sure what the ancients were doing, but he was determined find out.\n\n### Chapter 6\n\nVera was worried as she walked along the streets, heading towards the waterfront. It was getting dark, but the lights from the buildings allowed enough illumination for her to see well enough. It had been a rough couple of days for her, and this night wasn't turning out to be much better. After coming home from the hospital, her father had been his normal controlling self. He hadn't beaten her, he had just continued with his life-long verbally aggressive disciplines. This particular instance saw him threatening to throw her out of the house. She had backed down with a subservient attitude and allowed him his tirade while her mother attempted to calm the situation. Eventually, her father had stopped his yelling only to storm off, leaving Vera ill at ease with the situation and alone with her mother. While her father had never hit her, he could get so angry at times that she feared he might eventually succumb to the urge. It was an interesting point that the best attorneys in the state couldn't fluster the man, but his own daughter seemed to accomplish the feat on a daily basis.\n\nVera's mother had stood firm with her husband—a fact that always dismayed Vera, although she wasn't sure why this particular incident should be any different than before. Her mother had always sided with her father, and this time was no exception. While her mother attempted to calm her dad, Vera had found herself hoping, as she had on many occasions, that this time would be different. She hoped that her mother would give her love and compassion. She was disappointed in her hopes much as her mother had been disappointed in her, and Vera didn't know which hurt more: the fact that her mother didn't attempt to understand her daughter, or receiving the sad disapproving head shake that was her mother's trademark. The only bright side to the whole affair was her sister, who had snuck into her bedroom each night to snuggle up for warmth and comfort.\n\nIt began to rain lightly as she walked, and Vera moved along quickly. The rain didn't bother her much—it didn't bother any Seattleite, which is why they rarely sported umbrellas. Still, not wanting to get soaked, she quickly made her way to the waterfront and then checked the map on her phone. People milled about as they walked the piers, heading from one fancy shop to another in an attempt to either get something to eat or to purchase some odd souvenir. Vera looked to the address written on her hand and then to the phone. Turning around, she headed back up the hill and away from the piers. She had been so engrossed in thought that she had walked too far off track.\n\nSoon, she was back on course. It didn't take long for her to reach her destination, but when she pulled on the large ornate glass door she found it to be locked. She looked at it in frustration and bewilderment, but a soft click could be heard, and the door suddenly pulled open for her. She entered the lobby, shaking the rain from her hair, and was greeted by an attendant who was watching her while maintaining a smile on his face.\n\n\"May I help you, Miss?\" he asked.\n\n\"I'm not sure, maybe. I want to visit James Connor.\"\n\n\"Is he expecting you, Miss?\"\n\n\"No, I just need to see him.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't just let you up. I can call him and give him your name. If he will allow the visit, then he can either meet you in the lobby or activate the elevator to allow you to his floor.\"\n\nVera hadn't expected this kind of resistance. She hadn't really expected anything other than arriving at his home and knocking on the door. He would then answer the door of course, greet her warmly, and be as pleasing as she recalled from her memories. A childish notion, but that's what she had expected.\n\n\"I won't worry about it,\" she said with some embarrassment. \"I can see him some other time.\"\n\nShe turned to leave but was hesitant. She felt like an idiot and really didn't know what to do as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.\n\n_Screw it_ , she thought as she sent out a tendril to one of the lights in the corner of the lobby.\n\nIt flickered and went dark. The attendant glanced up at it, and Vera slid into the shadows. She was still perfectly visible—at least she thought she was—but somehow the shadows cast by the failing light enveloped her; she disappeared from the attendant's perception.\n\nVera marveled at the situation as the man returned his eyes to the main lobby. He blinked and cast about for her. He looked to his left, then his right, and couldn't find her.\n\n\"Must have left,\" he said to himself before turning his gaze to a magazine.\n\nThis wasn't the first time Vera had used this trick, but it was the first time that she fully believed it was real. The first night home from the hospital, while her father and mother argued, she had hid in the house. It was in the darkened rooms and amongst the shadows that she felt unusually safe. When her mother had searched for her, she had been unable to find her, even when Vera was certain that enough light existed to be perceived. However, the shadows had hidden her well.\n\nFor the past few days, she had tried this trick a few times. Her mind had told her that her mother was just being blind, but since Vera had wanted privacy, she didn't argue the reasoning for her mother's inability to locate her.\n\nShe didn't know how the light of the building's lobby had failed. She had just wanted shadow and could feel a part of her attack the bulbs. When the light had gone out, she had moved. Now, she was stuck and didn't know how to proceed. She also didn't know what would happen if she were to walk into the light. Would the attendant be able to see her again?\n\nShe stood in place for several minutes and thought about what she should do. She looked at the elevators; they were only a few feet away, and in a small alcove. They were also out of sight of the front desk, and she believed that once she was there she could use them, but she had no idea how to do that without having them _activated,_ as the attendant had stated.\n\nA man and woman entered the lobby, startling Vera. They didn't notice her as they made their way to the elevator. The attendant greeted them warmly, and they replied in kind before continuing their way towards the inner hall. Reaching the elevator, the man pushed the button and the doors opened, allowing them entry. He then presented a card to a reader just inside and the doors closed. Vera thought about running into the elevator, but decided that was crazy, so she stood her ground, still unsure what to do.\n\nSeveral minutes later, she lost patience and decided to risk moving. She needed shadow and thought about the darkness, much as she had before. She could see little wisps leave her body and head to the soffits in the high ceiling. The tendrils played around the lights, like an octopus feeling around a bottle. Several bulbs flickered, and soon half the lobby was in shadow. Vera was stunned for a moment but recovered quickly and decided to move. She headed to the lobby desk, rather than the elevator. The attendant had just left it and was looking for a light switch; apparently, he had never seen the lights go out and didn't know what to do. He could only think to look for a switch, mumbling to himself as he searched.\n\nVera reached the desk, expecting to be seen at any moment, but the man remained oblivious to her. She stared at him for a second and then let out a small chuckle. His head whipped up suddenly and he looked about carefully. Vera held her breath. He peered through the lobby, even looking directly at her, but his gaze continued onward.\n\n_Okay, invisible but not silent_ , she thought to herself.\n\nShe looked down at the desk and searched for a button or anything that would turn on the elevators. A big sign that said _To turn on Elevators, push this button_ , would have been helpful, but it wasn't to be seen. Instead, she found a small keychain with an access card attached. She took the card, being certain to lift it quietly, and headed to the elevators. She made it unseen, pushed the button, and had to wait.\n\n_Damn_ , she thought.\n\nThe previous couple had an elevator open immediately for them, and she had to wait—just her luck. She watched the numbers on the digital display count down as more than one elevator headed to the lobby. She wasn't in shadow at the moment and considered sending her tendrils out to the lights above her, but hesitated as the elevators continued to descend. Turning off these lights might just bring the man to her position, and she didn't want that. Carefully, she peered in the direction of the lobby but couldn't see the attendant.\n\nThe elevator to her left arrived and the doors opened. She entered quickly and swiped the card, which turned the reader light green, then she pushed her floor button. It felt like it took an eternity for the doors to close, but they did, and she began to move upward. Sighing loudly, she put her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating rapidly. It was a foolish thing that she had just done, and one that would have only resulted in her being escorted from the building; but for as simple a punishment as it could have been, she felt as if she had just robbed a bank.\n\n### Chapter 7\n\nJames picked up his notes from the couch and walked to the large screen TV mounted in the corner of his living room. He had _Google Scholar_ running and was also logged into more than one research site. Not for the first time in his life did he curse as he attempted to find raw data. This was an annoying habit of research professionals: they provided the basics of their research but never the details. Perhaps they were afraid that someone would look at the material and draw a different conclusion.\n\nJames typed on his keyboard, and another screen came up. Odd medical cases were offered to him, and the more he looked, the more he realized just how unusual the human species was. Progeria, stone man syndrome, and even vampire syndrome were some of the many cases that were all well documented. James had of course heard of many of these, but like many people, he attributed them to medical anomalies.\n\nHe sighed as he continued to read while attempting to make sense of his situation. _Charles Bonnet Syndrome_ showed promise, but that was a macular degeneration that allowed sufferers to see hallucinations due to retinal damage. It fit his situation slightly but not fully.\n\nA single knock on his door permeated the room and his head came up. He was unsure whether he had heard it; he had been too focused on his work. A moment later, a second knock came from the door. James smiled as he set his papers down and walked to the entrance. There had been no call from the lobby, and once again he wasn't expecting anyone. Therefore, he expected his goddess was up to her tricks again. He didn't mind, though. Arinai had left more questions than answers when she had departed, and he found that he looked forward to hearing her offer further explanations, even if those explanations bordered on the insane.\n\nOpening the door provided him with another surprise, and he couldn't disguise that from his face. Vera took the surprise as a compliment and smiled.\n\n\"Hi, Mr. Connor. Do you remember me?\"\n\n\"Of course, Vera,\" he responded, and then becoming confused he asked, \"How did you get up here?\"\n\nVera squirmed a little bit and became discernibly uncomfortable.\n\n\"I rode the elevator. It just took me to your floor.\"\n\nIt was an obvious lie, but James didn't see a need to confront her at the moment. He was too busy watching those eyes and the odd internal aura that moved about her body. He was still able to see her outer physical appearance and noticed that tonight she had arrived as a woman. Her hair was curled, her makeup subtle, and he could smell a light and pleasant scent. She reminded him of her mother, who must have taught the young woman about style and elegance. Her clothes were worn well and accented her form without being overtly sexual, while her stance was poised, adding a level of maturity that confronted the youth of her face. The overall effect added several years to her appearance without making her look old. Abruptly, James realized that he had forgotten himself, and when he came to his senses, he stepped aside and ushered her in.\n\n\"Wow, this place is super nice! You must be very rich,\" she said as she looked around the apartment.\n\nShe went to the windows, stopping a few feet short of the edge. James smiled and laughed to himself; many people stopped short the first time. It was an unusual experience to be so close to the edge of floor to ceiling windows. It gave one the feeling that they might fall off the building.\n\n\"I imagine that you live in a house somewhere, rather than an apartment.\"\n\n\"Uh huh, over in Madison Park.\"\n\nJames perked up. \"Your father must be as good an attorney as he claims.\"\n\n\"Why do you say that?\" she asked.\n\n\"I know Madison Park well enough to know that a small hundred year old Craftsman house could cost nearly a million dollars.\"\n\n\"Oh, well we don't live in a small house,\" she said plainly. She wasn't saying it to brag, just to point out a fact. James nodded his understanding of Vera's response.\n\n\"Shouldn't you be at home?\" he asked.\n\n\"I can't go home,\" she replied casually.\n\nJames found her short answers to be annoying but chalked them up to immaturity and inexperience with social interactions. Mentally sighing, he questioned her further.\n\n\"Why can't you go home? Did your father kick you out?\"\n\n\"No, nothing like that, but he's threatened to. It's just that he has a firm rule. If I'm not home by 10 PM the doors are locked and I can't get in.\"\n\n\"That seems a little harsh,\" James replied.\n\nVera shrugged her shoulders, \"Eh, what can I do? I've tried to get in, but he won't open the door. Once I was two minutes late, and he wouldn't allow it. He even threatened to call the police on me if I didn't leave.\"\n\nJames was incredulous and couldn't understand such behavior. He could see where such a rule might work to aid in discipline, but why would a father want his daughter to roam the streets at night rather than being safe at home, especially if that daughter was a mere two minutes late?\n\n\"So, why are you here? And how did you find me?\"\n\n\"I'm here to find out what you did to me,\" she said seriously. As to how she found him, she didn't say.\n\nJames stared at the woman but didn't reply.\n\n\"I can see you, you know,\" she said plainly. \"You can't hide from me.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" he asked curiously.\n\n\"You look odd. Different. Not like everyone else. When I look at you, I see these little wisps of string coming and going, kinda like electricity but not. I see something similar in me when I look in a mirror or down at my body. Similar but different. I can't explain it, and I probably just sound stupid.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" he said to reassure her. \"Please, tell me more.\" James motioned to the couch and moved to a nearby chair.\n\nVera opened her mouth to speak then paused. She closed it again as she looked at James. He was sincere in his request, but she appeared to be judging that sincerity, perhaps wondering if he was joking. She shrugged her shoulders in a manner that said _what the hell_ , and began to tell him about the previous few days, including how she got to his apartment from the lobby. The key ring with the access card was offered as evidence of the latter activity.\n\nJames listened intently and didn't judge. As she spoke, he attempted to probe her thoughts as he had with the shade and the succubus. He caught glimpses of her life, and as he held the key chain she offered him, she spoke directly.\n\n\"Are you doing that, making my mind remember my life?\"\n\nJames startled for a moment.\n\n\"What is it you see?\" he asked.\n\n\"I see my life as if I'm remembering it, but I'm not trying to remember anything. It's like you're searching through my mind. I felt it the other day at the hospital as well.\"\n\nJames remembered the incident and immediately recalled his embarrassment at his thoughts. Vera perked up for a second as he remembered his reaction. He had thought her to be a very pretty woman, and even now that thought came to him.\n\nVera smiled coyly, stood up from the couch, and walked to the kitchen island, moving a bit too sultry as she did.\n\n\"So, do you have anything to drink in this place?\"\n\nJames was pleased for the change of subject, but not the immature sexual overtones that accompanied it. It made him a bit uncomfortable.\n\n\"That depends, are you old enough to drink?\"\n\n\"I'm 22,\" she responded. \"Would you like to see my ID?\"\n\nJames declined the offer and went to the small wine refrigerator on the end of the island. He opened it and peered inside. He didn't notice Vera approach, and had to hide his surprise when her arm reached over his shoulder and grabbed a bottle.\n\n\"This looks nice. What is it?\"\n\n\"It's an ice wine, very sweet.\"\n\n\"Let's have this,\" she said as she took the bottle to the countertop.\n\nJames nodded, \"All right, but let me get some sugarless cake.\"\n\n\"Sugarless cake? That sounds sick.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" he said. \"Let me show you.\"\n\nJames got a piece of cake, opened the bottle, and poured two glasses. He gave Vera a bite of the cake, which was bland chocolate, and then had her take a drink of the ice wine. She smiled as the sweet wine accentuated the flavor of the cake, and her eyes lit up like someone excited for Christmas.\n\n\"That's really good,\" she said.\n\n\"Yes,\" James said, chuckling. \"I know.\"\n\nVera began to take another bite, twirling the spoon around the plate as she played with the food. Her eyes became sensual as she placed the food in her mouth and then took a drink of the wine.\n\n\"So, is there a Mrs. James Connor?\" she asked as she set the wind glass down.\n\nHer actions weren't as subtle as she might think they were, and warning bells went off in James' head. He thought for a moment before answering. Those thoughts led to the bare facts: she was a woman, 22 years old, legal to drink, and he had to admit that he found the attention flattering. He smiled and shook his head.\n\n\"No, I'm too busy to have someone else in my life.\"\n\n\"So, what exactly do you do?\" she asked as she continued to tease him by playing wistfully with her fork and the cake.\n\n\"I'm a corporate consultant and diagnostician,\" he replied.\n\n\"What is that?\"\n\n\"I take a look at problems within companies and come up with solutions. I do a lot of research, look for clues, run tests, and attempt to formulate a course of action. It's similar to being a detective.\"\n\n\"Is that why you have all of this stuff out?\" she asked as she put her elbows on the island, leaning into him.\n\nJames looked at his messy living room. He had research scattered about in piles and more than one computer running.\n\n\"Partly,\" he said, \"the other reason is that it's the maid's day off.\"\n\nVera laughed slightly then reached in and tickled his side.\n\n\"That was funny,\" she said.\n\nJames flinched with the motion and then had to rearrange his pants subtly. He was getting aroused.\n\nVera thought for a moment.\n\n\"So what do you think my condition is? Why can I do what I can do?\"\n\n\"I don't know that you can,\" he replied. \"It's possible that you're still affected by the drugs, or perhaps you're having a psychotic break. You may just think you can do those things.\" He pointed over to his mess as if to make a point. \"I have cases over there where the patients think they're zombies. It's called Cotard's Syndrome. Very rare, but well documented.\"\n\n\"But I really can hide in the shadows,\" she said.\n\nJames stared at her for a moment, wondering about her sincerity. He whispered two words to himself, \"Empirical evidence.\" Vera was confused, but James thought for another moment before standing and heading to the wall.\n\n\"Alright,\" he said to her carefully, not taking his eyes off of her. \"Show me.\"\n\nHe flipped the light switch and the room went dark.\n\nHe could still see her plainly, the light from the city was bright enough to outline her figure, and his eyes began to adjust to the new light level. He watched her general form as it raised a wine glass and emptied its contents. She set it down carefully, turned to him, and disappeared.\n\nJames blinked more than once as he attempted to locate his guest. He had been able to see her up until a moment ago, and his cracking mind had even overlaid her violet eyes and internal aura. However, that visage was now gone, as was the woman.\n\n\"Can you see me?\" he heard her say.\n\nThe question came from nearby, but he couldn't locate the source.\n\nHe breathed slowly and turned about. Her face appeared before him, only a few inches away, \"Boo!\" she said. While James attempted to recover from surprise, the face disappeared and he could hear her laugh.\n\n\"This is fun. I bet I'd win any game of hide and seek.\"\n\nJames concentrated on this apartment and reached out his mind as he had with Arinai. He searched for the woman that was hiding and eventually found her. She was difficult to discern within the shadows, and even then he couldn't claim to know her exact position; it was more of a feeling that she was by his television. He turned to her and smiled. The shadows moved slightly and he followed them. She moved rapidly to his left, and he lost her for a moment before picking her up again. It was difficult. He had to maintain intense concentration. That concentration eventually took its toll, and he lost her.\n\nAs he tried to locate her within his normal vision, he felt a hand on his waist and a kiss to his cheek. It was fast, and he couldn't reach out in time to catch her. Vera laughed with joy, and he turned at the sound. Taking another deep breath, he felt for her again.\n\nShe wasn't in the room anymore, and he had to follow his feelings down the hall and into his bedroom. Vera simply laughed again as she led her prey.\n\n\"Do you believe me know,\" she whispered into his ear, as he entered his bedroom.\n\nHe reached out in the direction of the sound but found only air. She was near, of that he was certain. He opened his mind more and could feel her emotions. Her thoughts were cloudy but her emotions were raw. She was happy and playful, even a bit shy, but her invisibility had emboldened her. James also felt arousal, but he didn't know if that was his own emotional state or a reflection of hers.\n\nKeeping his hand out, he felt for her, moving to the left and the right. His arm was caught, and he could feel fingers wrap around his wrist. She held him gently but firmly. James stared at his arm. He could feel the pressure from her hand, and he felt it as she moved her fingers around his wrist, but try as he might, he could only see a shadow. It was darker than the rest of the shadows in the room, but just as nondescript. The shadow's slight independent movement was the only thing that belied its actuality as a shadow.\n\nWhile James wondered and gazed, he could feel Vera move towards him. She spread his fingers with her other hand and placed his palm to her breast. He felt her soft skin and the erect nipple that awaited his touch. He didn't move his hand away. On the contrary, he kept it in place as he enjoyed the movement of her chest while she breathed. It was an odd sensation to feel the presence of the female form and to not actually see her. He felt her move towards him, and he bent his arm in order to allow his hand to remain on her breast. She was very near to him now, and shadow or no shadow, he could smell her perfume. Looking down onto the darker form, he could feel a hand to his cheek tilting him downward and then he felt her lips lightly brush his own. He raised his other hand and moved it to where her face would be. Stroking her cheek, he pulled her into him and kissed her with more pressure.\n\nMoving his head away, he held her head in his hand and breathed heavily.\n\n\"Reveal yourself to me,\" he said quietly but forcefully.\n\nShe suddenly appeared before him, half in shadow and half in human form. Her face, hair, and part of her bared chest were visible, but the rest slowly faded into the night. Her face was serious in contemplation with just the hint of a wicked smile.\n\n\"What is this?\" he whispered rhetorically while he stroked her cheek with his thumb.\n\n\"I don't know,\" she replied\n\nAfter a moment, she moved to his lips, and he allowed it. His mind was racked with sexual thoughts and feelings as he saw images of her life, and more pointedly, he felt her desires as if they were his own.\n\n_Oh, I'm going to hell_ , he thought clearly as he bent his mouth to her nipple.\n\n\"Then I will go with you,\" was her verbal reply as she accepted his lips to her body.\n\n### Chapter 8\n\n\"Good morning,\" Vera said cheerily as James entered the kitchen.\n\nShe seemed happy as she made a mess of his countertops. He looked slightly disapprovingly at her, but she was too absorbed to notice.\n\n\"Good morning,\" he replied.\n\n\"So whatcha gonna do today?\" she asked him childishly.\n\n\"I have to head to a research facility. I have case notes to check and experiments to see.\"\n\n\"Ah, okay. Is it okay if I just crash here then?\"\n\nJames didn't believe that was a good idea, and he informed his young guest of his opinion. She wasn't too pleased but cheered up quickly. She bounced over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and while giggling, asked him a blunt question.\n\n\"How about a quickie before you leave?\"\n\nJames was aroused, but warning bells began to go off again. Vera was being a little too clingy, and he had enough dating experience to recognize the danger signs. If he wasn't careful, he would hurt her feelings, or worse, cause her real pain. He cared for her, but this inexperienced affection of hers could cause her to move too far too fast.\n\nHe begged off on another bout of sex and made ready to leave. She watched him as he prepared to leave.\n\n\"Mr. Connor?\" she asked.\n\n\"I think you can call me James,\" he said.\n\n\"Okay, James,\" she said with slight exaggeration of his name. \"Will I see you again?\"\n\nHe stopped his preparations to address her properly. When he saw her face, he could see the need for approval. She pointed to her head as if to reveal her thoughts.\n\n\"I just sense that you don't like me,\" she said.\n\nJames shook his head and sighed. \"It's not that,\" he said. He went to her and took her hand. \"Vera, let me give you some mature advice. Last night was fun, and I do like you, but I can see in your eyes and hear in your voice that you're becoming infatuated. For us men, that sets off all kinds of warning signs. I don't want to hurt you and will do what I can to protect your feelings, but I don't want you to get too attached too quickly.\"\n\nShe became maudlin for a moment, and James' heart skipped a beat. This wasn't what he wanted.\n\n\"Vera,\" he said quietly, and she looked to him with hopeful eyes. \"Last night was very unusual. You're not a virgin, that much was apparent, so you know that what we shared wasn't normal.\"\n\nJames thought about the evening. They had felt very close to each other. It was something that he had never experienced before. The sensations were very intimate; her emotions had mixed with his, and she could even cast out her tendrils to him. They had wrapped the lovers like a cocoon as they performed to each other, all the while fading in and out of each other's vision.\n\nJames squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead. \"Of course we will see each other again, but I'm not a doe eyed love struck young man that has fallen in love with you. You need to understand that. I care for you, but that's different than love.\"\n\n\"I know that,\" she replied. \"Do you think I'm stupid?\"\n\nJames knew she was putting on a front. She had been a little too overt with her feelings and was now embarrassed by them. In defense of her ego, she lashed out.\n\n\"I don't think you're stupid,\" he replied. \"I just want to make certain that you're protected.\"\n\n\"Well, I can take care of myself,\" she said as she took her hand back angrily.\n\n\"Dammit, Vera, knock it off,\" he yelled at her.\n\nThat caught her attention, and she glared at him. He took a deep breath and spoke calmly. \"I'm not your parents, and I don't care to be, but if you want to come into my life and act like a child then think again. You're better than that. Last night you played the role of a woman and you did it very well. All I'm asking is that you believe me when I say that I don't want to hurt you.\"\n\nShe didn't reply but still appeared hurt. He tried to put his arm around her, but she pulled away. He stopped his movements, which then arrested hers. Moving slowly, he continued towards her, and she eventually allowed him to take her in his arms.\n\n\"This thing we're experiencing is something that I can't explain,\" he said to her, \"and I will need your help to do so. Can you please assist me and do so without the immaturity?\"\n\nThere was a moment of silence before he heard her whisper\n\n\"I may not know how,\" she said quietly.\n\nHe gave her a squeeze.\n\n\"That's okay,\" he replied. \"I may not know either.\"\n\nVera squeezed back. His words were an emotional roller coaster for her, but in this moment she felt very happy, and James could feel it. She was finding validation, even if only for a moment, and it pleased her.\n\nThey gathered up their items and left the apartment together. James didn't entirely trust this young woman alone in his home, and Vera understood that. He knew the idea hurt her, but she accepted the casual excuse he had given to her and didn't let on that she believed it to be a lie. James could see it in her mannerisms, and while their emotions continued to intermix, each of them was growing an ability to block the other. That in turn led them back to an age old relationship dilemma—worrying what the other was thinking.\n\nJames escorted Vera out of the building while taking time to casually drop off the attendant's key card. He watched Vera carefully as she left with him, and he was proud at how well she held up. They each played their part, and he began to realize that he had misjudged her. She was young and immature, that was certain, but she meant him no harm.\n\nHe led her to the street and hailed a cab for her, making sure to give the man plenty of money to get her to Madison Park. She was about to enter the cab when he halted her.\n\n\"Vera,\" he said caringly. She looked at him as she stopped her progress towards the cab. \"I want you to take care.\"\n\nHe held her hand gently, and she could feel the shape of an access card he was handing her. She looked down and admired the discreet device. It was nameless in case it should be lost, but she felt that it was as beautiful as a piece of jewelry. James smiled as he felt the emotion from her.\n\n\"It's not a key to my apartment,\" he said, calming her a bit. \"It's a key to the building and the elevator so that you'll have easier access. I'll also put you on the guest list so that the attendant will allow you through. Now, I want you to go home and try to make amends with your parents. We will deal with our situation as best we can.\"\n\n\"Friends, then?\" she asked.\n\n\"Lovers,\" was his reply.\n\nShe smiled, happy with that thought and allowed him to open the cab door for her and see her safely away.\n\nAcross the street, Badir watched the exchange with interest. The girl was an oddity. She wasn't anything that he had ever seen or felt before, but there had been many breeds over the years that had provided much the same feeling, so the vampire didn't pay much heed to the feelings. The man, however, appeared to be nothing special. He was human.\n\nBadir watched the man walk off on his own, and he began to follow, sticking to the darker areas when he could and braving the overcast streets when he had to. He hadn't gone far before the man he was following turned abruptly and stared directly at him. Badir smirked at the man and was about to nod a greeting when he suddenly lost sight of him. The man had simply vanished.\n\nBadir looked around for his prey but couldn't locate him. He looked left, then walked forward, then he stopped and chatted with an elderly man trying to cross the street. The cloud cover was intense, and it began to rain. Badir was grateful for the cloud cover. He wouldn't die if hit directly by sunlight, but the intense exposure could cause him severe pain. Thinking about the sun, he remembered the first time he tried walking in the sun after his merger with his demon. His demon. That's what he called it, and it was an angry beast. Now they were one, and they did one thing well: they survived. Badir tired of the rain and walked off, heading in a direction that would give him a place to rest.\n\nJames watched Badir's confusion and would have been more amused if he hadn't seen how dangerous the beast was. Arinai had been correct; James could see much about the vampire who had just left the area. He had felt the demon's presence and knew the thing intended to follow him. As James mentally asked to be ignored, he had probed the things mind and found brute force mixed with an ingenuity of survival. As acceptance of his entire situation began to cement, one thing became perfectly clear to James: that demon was dangerous.\n\n### Chapter 9\n\nJames didn't see Vera or Arinai that evening, and he wasn't sure if he should feel sad or pleased. His day at the labs had been normal other than he seemed to have developed a better skill set for diagnostics; he had quickly and accurately resolved two issues today. That in and of itself wasn't out of the ordinary, but he did so with very little verified information, and that was odd. Still, he didn't mind. He got paid for results and speed. The problems he solved today netted him an extra $100,000 bonus for coming up with a solution within six months.\n\nThat night, he was restless and irritated. He had gone through much of the research in his apartment and had even secretly performed research at the corporate labs. Nothing shed new light on his case. However, this fact didn't bother him; each passing day eroded his doubts and opened his mind. Arinai had been correct. There is much that is not understood, but at some point people need to accept what is actually happening. James knew very well that there were many things that couldn't be explained, but they existed nonetheless. Why they existed and how they worked was a different story.\n\nIt wasn't too late, and James had decided that his apartment was a little too stifling. He needed to get out and get away. He dressed for the weather, left, and made his way to the Starbucks at Pike Place. The line was short, and it wasn't long before he was seated, drinking a decaf iced coffee and eating a muffin. His mind wandered, and he found he could do little but stare at the wall. Undoubtedly, this is what allowed him to be approached so easily.\n\n\"James Connor, I believe.\"\n\nJames looked at the speaker and hid his surprise well.\n\n\"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Drake, and you're something of a mystery to me, a mystery that I would like solved.\"\n\nJames blinked carefully and could see an odd image of the creature before him. It seemed to change slightly and yet not at all. It was human and not human at the same time. The image seemed to move and remain still, and when the creature took a seat opposite him, it did it rapidly and with fluid motion.\n\nJames willed the creature to ignore him, and for a second, confusion appeared on Drake's face.\n\n\"I wouldn't do that if I were you. When he realizes what you have done he'll be pissed off.\"\n\nJames looked to the speaker. It was the vampire from earlier in the day. A flicker of movement was all anyone would see, and Badir was sitting at the table as well. James lost his concentration, and Drake came to his senses. He seemed to understand his situation and rage filled his eyes, but he calmed quickly, sending a glare towards James.\n\n\"Not here, not now,\" Badir growled to his companion.\n\nDrake continued to rein in his rage, but only just. James looked carefully at the men, but more so at Drake. He knew the man's name, he knew he was a Dearg-Due or Vampire of legends, and could even feel the demon's age—nearly 700 years old, and one of the last of his kind. He wasn't as brutal as Badir, but he was just as cunning. Where his comrade used intelligence tinged with force, Drake used experience tinged with tactics. Both methods had served them well and allowed them to outlive many of their brethren. James could see all of this clearly, but what he couldn't see was their current intentions.\n\n\"What can I do for you, gentlemen?\" James asked cautiously.\n\n\"You can tell us who you are and what the ancients want with you,\" Drake said.\n\n\"Ancients?\"\n\n\"The witch Arinai and that brute Camulas,\" Badir spat out.\n\nJames didn't know of Camulas. He hadn't met him, but he certainly knew of Arinai. The word ancients made sense. To these men, even at 700 years of age, Arinai was much older.\n\n\"I don't know what you're referring to,\" James replied calmly.\n\n\"Don't play with us, human,\" Badir spat. \"We're not to be trifled with. If those two are planning something, I can assure you that we'll learn of it.\"\n\n\"Then you don't need me,\" James said, defiantly, although he felt a bit foolish. He knew either of these demons could kill him instantly, but with as crazy as his life was becoming, that idea didn't frighten him. In fact, he practically dared Badir with a glare.\n\nDrake held his hand up to calm the situation.\n\n\"We already know that they're looking for the location of the Oracle,\" Drake said, \"and Camulas thinks you can help with that.\"\n\n\"Look, idiots, I don't know who this Camulas is,\" James said snorting at the stupidity of the conversation. \"And he can think I'm the Oracle all he wants. That doesn't make it true.\"\n\nThe demons sat upright and appeared confused for a moment as James' words sank in. Something was wrong, and James didn't know what. At first he thought they were insulted by being called idiots, but that didn't sit right with him. Badir and Drake looked at each other and shared a knowing glance. Drake smiled and turned back to their table companion.\n\n\"So the Oracle is a man, not a location as the Romans had at Delphi,\" he stated. \"And Arinai believes that man is you. Now, that is very interesting.\"\n\n_Damn_ , thought James, _that was stupid_. As he probed the demons' minds he could see it clearly. Badir had perched above the streets and learned of the ancients' search for an oracle. But keeping to the legends of the past, he and Drake had assumed it was a location, not a person.\n\nJames thought about speaking, but he had already said something idiotic and didn't care to repeat the experience. The vampires before him scrutinized their table mate. They judged the man, and James could sense their confusion. They had never experienced someone like him, and it gave them pause. He began to believe that they wouldn't harm him. They didn't dare try, because they didn't know his strengths. For all they knew, he could kill them with a thought. Besides, they wanted the Oracle. They needed the Oracle. That much James could discern.\n\nJames' mind began to tickle, and he turned his attention away from the men before him. He followed his tickle to a table across the way and a lone woman who appeared every bit engrossed in a book. She turned pages, took a bite of a scone, and kept her focus intently on the pages in front of her. She was very good and kept up her ruse even when she knew it was all for naught.\n\n\"How did you do that?\" asked Drake with confusion and curiosity.\n\nJames turned his attention back to the man but didn't answer. Drake stared in silence for a moment before speaking again.\n\n\"I have never seen anyone locate Alicia when she didn't desire it, present company included. It's her strength: her ability to hide when others could only run or fight.\"\n\nAgain, James remained quiet. He wanted to tell them all to ignore him, but he was unsure how well that would be received. If he could control them all, then he would just walk out of this coffee shop. If not, then he may be injured. In the end, he decided diplomacy was better than deception.\n\n\"What exactly is it that you want from me?\" he asked Drake without answering the questions posed by the vampire.\n\nDrake thought for a moment and then smiled as he replied. \"To be honest, Oracle, at the moment we want nothing. I believe you have already given us what we came for. We know who you are and we now know what the ancients want with you. They wish to control the Oracle for themselves.\"\n\nJames cursed himself again for his stupidity. \"And if I'm not the Oracle?\" he asked.\n\nBadir bared his teeth slowly, and James could see two long fangs begin to extend. Drake ignored his friend and gave his own reply by nodding over to the direction of Alicia. \"Oh, I think you are. Even if you're not, a being that can find someone that possesses her ability to hide would be a powerful ally.\"\n\n\"I have no intention of being anyone's ally,\" James said. \"I just wish to be left alone.\"\n\n\"Good luck with that,\" Badir said sarcastically.\n\nJames turned a steely gaze at the man. He knew he had to portray strength, and he attempted to do that with his demeanor and glare—these demons didn't know his powers, and it was best to keep it that way.\n\n_Better to keep them wary than to give them confidence_ , he thought to himself.\n\n\"I believe you'll find that the upcoming battle will not allow you to keep to the sidelines.\" Drake said as he leaned back and relaxed his posture. \"You'll need to choose a side. Ultimately, Rome is the enemy, not us. We just wish to be kept in the know.\"\n\n\"Think about it carefully, Oracle,\" a soft voice said to his side.\n\nJames turned to the woman that now stood beside him; she had moved so quickly that he hadn't noticed her approach. He was surprised by her proximity and equally surprised that he was able to maintain his composure; he was also grateful that he did. James nodded his understanding to the three of them, stood carefully, hoping not to appear clumsy, and left the cafe.\n\nHe could feel their eyes and minds on him as he left, and he attempted to probe them for their thoughts. It was difficult. He could only get jumbled feelings. Distrust from Drake, curiosity from Alicia, and deception from Badir.\n\n\"So that's the Oracle,\" said Alicia. \"A man. That's interesting. Delphi was said to be a place, an entity with dozens of priests and priestesses who interpreted the will of the gods.\"\n\n\"It's of no matter,\" said Drake. \"If he can be controlled and used, then we'll have an advantage over Rome.\"\n\n\"Why do the ancients want him?\"\n\n\"They are small minded and petty. They want nothing but power,\" replied Badir.\n\n\"Don't be so stupid,\" Drake replied. \"Arinai is many things, as is Camulas, but power hungry is not one of those things. If I had to guess, I would say they want to survive, and if we're to battle with Rome, what better ally could one have than an oracle?\"\n\n\"If that's the case, then we must have him. Better us than them.\"\n\n\"Agreed, but I fear we didn't make a good showing tonight,\" Alicia said.\n\n\"Who cares?\" Badir asked. \"We know who he is, and we'll make him help us.\"\n\n\"We must be diplomatic about this,\" Drake replied. \"If he is anything like the Oracle of Delphi, then no amount of force or threats will touch him; and like Delphi, he will enjoy a protection provided by all the beasts. It's said that even Zeus didn't break that covenant.\"\n\nBadir didn't answer. He just glared at Drake and then grudgingly nodded his acceptance.\n\n### Chapter 10\n\nJames spent the next day thinking mostly of Vera and Arinai. The three demons he had met the night before were a concern, but with effort he was able to stifle his worries. Throughout the day, he filed reports, checked research results, and made sure they were as expected. His abilities as a problem solver had taken a turn for the better. While he had always been good, his mind now began to discern problems easier and the solutions just as easily.\n\nHe adjusted experiments as needed and even changed one of them in mid-operation by modifying the underlying principles of the theorem being proved. After that, he took the time to take on another emailed request from a company in Spain. James had to laugh as he read the request and subsequent data over lunch. It took him twenty minutes to solve a fuel flow problem on a nozzle that he had never seen, and still he netted $25,000.\n\nLeaving his client for the day, he walked the mile or so to his apartment. He found himself engrossed in thought again as he ignored the rain and the passersby. He came to attention when he suddenly remembered the night before, when he had been surprised by the appearance of Badir and his associates. Fearful of a repeat, James attempted to cast his mind about and locate them.\n\nHe felt them slightly; they were distant from him and in separate locations, resting and of no threat to him at the moment. While he concentrated on them, his mind was invaded by other sensations. He could feel the vast presence of the shadows about him, almost like a collective whole. He also felt his succubus—she was resting in a hotel and living a rather ordinary day as a human. Other beings came to mind: an incubus, a sprite, a lycan, and a selkie.\n\nJames became wide-eyed as he thought about the last one. He could mentally picture the beast as it moved near the waterfront. It was an odd, seal-like creature, and he could sense how old it was, as well as how sad it had been these last few centuries. Now, it was happy and moving fast as it made its way through the water towards the pier and amongst the pylons. It played along the waterfront and mingled with the seals that it found there. James smiled as he felt it move, not only through the Puget Sound, but through his thoughts and emotions.\n\nCasting his mind out farther, he searched specifically for Arinai but was unable to find her. He then tried to find her supposed companion, Camulas, but that search was equally fruitless.\n\n_Where are you_? he asked as he returned his mind and search to Arinai.\n\nNo answer was forthcoming, so he took his time and played with the images of demons about him. Finally, he made his way home and was about to enter the lobby when he spied the object of his prior search. She was sitting contentedly on the leather couch of the lobby and appeared to be reading a book. Confused, James entered the building, eyeing her warily as he did. Arinai looked up, nodded to him, put her book away, and then joined him.\n\n\"Oracle,\" she said in greeting.\n\nJames put his hand up to warn her off as he nodded to the attendant. He didn't need to worry about being overheard; the attendant was happily nodding his head and singing to a tune, oblivious to the man and woman before him. Arinai smiled and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, _who cares._\n\nJames turned to her as they walked toward the elevator.\n\n\"Badir gives his compliments,\" he said.\n\nArinai's eyes turned to slits.\n\n\"Oh, I doubt that,\" she said coldly. She then became curious. \"How is it that you met him?\"\n\n\"He found me at a Starbucks last night: him, Drake, and Alicia. It wasn't a pleasant experience.\"\n\n\"I should imagine that it wasn't. How did he find you?\"\n\n\"I believe he followed me. If they had waited for me to show up at a Starbucks they never would have found me; it would take a longer lifespan than they possess to search every one of those establishments in this city.\"\n\nArinai nodded her head absentmindedly, and James was slightly upset that his perfectly good Starbucks joke was wasted. He shrugged it off.\n\n\"They wanted to know why the ancients—you and Camulas—are so interested in me.\"\n\nArinai turned at the name James provided. James pushed the button for the elevator and awaited her response.\n\n\"Did you tell them?\" she asked.\n\n\"Camulas?\" he asked in return with no intention of answering her question.\n\nThe elevator arrived and they entered. The card was swiped, a button pushed, and the elevator moved.\n\n\"Camulas is a god of war. He arose at the same time I did. He was the one that defeated Aries and ensured the fall of Rome.\"\n\n\"Aries was a Greek god, and I thought you were an atheist.\"\n\n\"Greek, Roman, they are the same pantheon. Much as we have the Keltoi, Celt, Druid, Norse, and many others. As far as being a god, call it what you will. Camulas is very old, he is a symbiote, and he is very good at war.\"\n\n\"What does he want with me?\"\n\n\"Same as I do. He wants to see you prosper, and he wants to know the answers to our existence. Will we survive this war with Rome?\"\n\n\"Yes, Drake is also concerned with that. He wants me to take sides and help them. Although, I don't recall you mentioning a war with Rome.\"\n\nThey arrived at his floor and entered his apartment, each taking a seat in the living room.\n\n\"Rome may be falling, but it's not yet dead,\" she said, pulling her feet onto the couch and cuddling with a pillow. \"They will fight our rising, and I'm sure Drake will want more than just you on his side. He probably does want to make certain that you'll help with the upcoming fight.\"\n\n\"Are you so certain there will be a fight?\"\n\n\"Of that I have no doubt,\" she said with conviction. \"You'll see a side of Rome that's only mentioned in legends, and they will come after you, and me, and everyone else. Have no doubt, Oracle, you'll be forced to fight and to kill.\"\n\nJames turned very serious.\n\n\"I'm not exactly a fighter,\" he said. \"I'm a thinker. I like to follow the philosophies of Plato in those matters.\"\n\n\"You must be joking,\" Arinai said.\n\nHe wasn't, and she could see it. She didn't remove her smile and shook her head in amusement. \"Our Oracle, bound by an oath to a citizen of our enemies. Perhaps the universe has an ironic sense of humor.\"\n\nJames saw the irony but didn't share the levity. He was serious in his statement.\n\n\"War or not, I will not participate.\"\n\n\"You may have little choice in the matter. You may be forced to fight and to kill.\"\n\n\"I will not kill,\" he said firmly.\n\n\"Oh, and what will you do when Rome sends the Bishop, or perhaps the Angels of Death? These beasts will leave you little room to claim neutrality. What will you do when they hold a weapon upon you, leaving you no escape?\"\n\nJames shuddered at the thoughts and the images that came to mind. He had no reference for the names she provided, but each utterance provided an odd sense of knowledge; he someone knew of them and knew they might come. He still couldn't see into Arinai's mind, but he felt her experiences; it was an odd sensation for him. The names of Raphael, Uriel, and Raguel came to his mind as she remembered them in her own, and the names conjured visions of winged beasts bent on pure destruction. Their eyes glowed and they swept forth among ancient man as they forced the will of their god.\n\n_They're real_? was the only question that came to his mind. Arinai smiled as she caught his thoughts.\n\n\"What of the angel Michael?\" he whispered. It was one of the few names he readily recalled.\n\n\"Killed in the war by Camulas,\" she said. \"But most of the others survive, even if they do so while in chains.\"\n\n\"Chains?\"\n\nArinai chuckled wickedly.\n\n\"They are the Angels of Death, and harbingers of doom. They brought much suffering to people, more so than they brought joy,\" she said. \"Why do you think the church removed their references from the bible? It was an attempt to hide their existence when the Vatican had no further use for them. But I can assure you that they survive and may be released yet again. If they are released, they will not look kindly on you, and when you have a talon to your throat, not even my power will protect you.\"\n\nJames thought about the images that her words conjured. He could see the gnarled and twisted hands of an archangel, and could almost feel the bony protrusion against his throat.\n\nAn odd thought occurred to him, and he cocked his head as he considered it.\n\n\"Arinai, what _is_ your power?\"\n\nShe had refused to answer this question before, but James posed it again. He hoped that she might reveal more about herself.\n\nShe smiled and chuckled slightly.\n\n\"It's not something that you would expect,\" she said.\n\n\"Surprise me,\" he replied.\n\nArinai thought for a moment, and her face lit up with an idea.\n\n\"All right,\" she said, mirth coming to her expression. \"Change your clothes into something casual and I'll show you. And grab some money. I think you'll owe me a dinner and a drink.\"\n\nJames furrowed his brown in confusion but agreed to the idea nonetheless. It didn't take long for him to put on the appropriate attire, and soon they were on their way. The couple made their way to the lobby, and from there a taxi took them up to First Hill, past the hospitals, and into the bar scene. Arinai talked as if the driver didn't exist, and for as much attention as the man paid to the radio, he might as well not have.\n\nAfter leaving the taxi, they entered a bar, sat at a table, and ordered drinks and appetizers. The band was just beginning to play, and James had to roll his eyes.\n\n\"It's a little loud,\" he said.\n\n\"What?\" she replied with a whimsical smile as she bobbed her head to the odd music and pretended not to hear him. James knew she had heard him but decided that if she couldn't laugh at his Starbucks joke then he wouldn't laugh at her deaf joke.\n\nJames snorted good-naturedly, shook his head, and watched her enjoy the loud music. She seemed thrilled. He wasn't; the music was that bad. Eventually, the song ended, and he was grateful for the quick lull. Turning to Arinai, James quickly began to talk before the band continued; he didn't relish another loud assault on his ears. However, he was denied his chance for conversation as Arinai took the lead.\n\n\"Come on, let's dance,\" she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the floor.\n\n\"I don't dance,\" he said but followed anyway; her grip was too tight for him to let go, and the only other option was to yank her back, possibly hurting her in the process.\n\n\"You do tonight,\" she replied.\n\nThe band began to play a quiet melody and the volume adjusted to a more suitable level for the room. James was pleased with the volume change. He found that it was a common phenomenon for bands to play too loud in order to cover their average abilities. Of course, bar owners didn't help the matter when they increased the volume so that the people in the rear of the bar could listen.\n\nAs they reached the floor, Arinai turned to him and he took her in his arms.\n\n\"I'm not a good dancer,\" he said.\n\n\"Then let me teach you,\" she replied with a wry smile.\n\nThe melody continued slowly and began to permeate the room. It rose in tempo, and the female singer started her chorus with an enchanting aria. James did a double take and had to look at the tattooed singer. Her hair was a variety of colors, and her ears had no less than six rings each. Still, the music was that of a lover's serenade, not the harsh punk from moments before, and James found himself staring at the lead vocalist.\n\nA hand reached up and pulled his face back to his partner. Arinai stared at him and their bodies began to move. James could feel her presence of mind as it invaded his own. It wasn't a hostile intrusion. Rather, it was a guide. He could feel his feet move and his body went with it. His poor grip on his partner repositioned and tightened. She was now firmly in his arms and firmly in his power, and while he led the dance, she led his mind.\n\nThey moved about the floor as the music rose to a lively beat and maintained its course. James felt powerful and confident. It was as if he could sit down to the piano and just play; at that moment, he could just dance. Arinai smiled and he smiled back, all the while their bodies moving with sensual unison. Her eyes sparkled, and James could feel her joy. It passed through him and enraptured him.\n\nArinai watched her partner. His amazement was fascinating to witness. It was such a simple trick of hers, but it always commanded the same joy from those that received it. It had been a long time since she could openly express this gift, and she found that she had missed it.\n\nShe reached out with her mind and felt the singer, her fellow musicians, and their instruments. It had been centuries since Arinai had heard this tune. It wasn't the exact same, of course; it was a variation on a theme, modified for the instruments that were available, and translated into an intelligible language.\n\nShe had missed this song, and after a moment's thought she pushed the melody forward and permanently implanted it in the bands' minds; they would now be able to perform this song again. Arinai smiled wider as she thought that perhaps one day she might hear it being played over the radio.\n\nThe song eventually ended, as did her passionate and skilled dance with her partner. She tried to thank him, and he her, but the bar erupted with loud cheering. Neither could hear the other, so they settled for smiling at each other and returning to their table.\n\nArinai continued to watch the amazement of the man before her. He was truly happy, a feeling that she hadn't seen on him before. He appeared animated as his hands moved about, reliving the dance and the embrace. She still couldn't hear him, but she didn't care. She smiled and laughed as he talked. Yes, it had been a very long time since she had been able to feel this way, and she didn't care if Rome could feel her presence.\n\n_Let them come_ , she thought as she laughed along with her companion and his absurd antics.\n\nThe noise from the crowd eventually abated, and they could now have some semblance of a normal conversation, even as the band began its next tune. They took the time to order food and were happy to continue to talk after their server had left.\n\n\"I don't understand. What exactly is your power?\" he almost shouted.\n\nArinai smiled mischievously and shrugged her shoulders. The music died down in volume, and when she spoke, she knew he would hear every word clearly.\n\n\"I'm a goddess of music,\" she said matter-of-factly.\n\nJames blinked his eyes in confusion and sat back, stunned. He looked about him as if trying to make sense of the news and his current mental state. The band was still playing, and people continued to talk and move about. However, the sounds were muted. He could hear them, of course, and watched the instruments as they produced their newest melody. He turned to Arinai and spoke plainly. She heard his question perfectly, and when she replied, he heard her just as well.\n\n\"It's nothing too great,\" she shrugged. \"I'm using the music to mask our conversation. We will be able to converse normally and no one will hear us, but we will hear each other. What I did earlier was simply to provide the band with the knowledge and skill to play the tune I wished to hear, and then I did the same to you in regard to the dance.\"\n\n\"And that's your great power?\"\n\n\"Don't discount it mildly,\" she said. \"I have survived much longer than my comrades. Of the ancients, only myself and Camulas remain. Long gone are Mryddin, known as Merlin. Also gone are the Morrigan, the White Lady and Maeve, and many others. It's only Camulas and I that survive.\"\n\n\"I've read some of the older stories,\" James said, \"such as the tales of Sir Gawain, and I recognize the ancient names of Merlin and Morgana, but I have never heard of you.\"\n\n\"That's another reason that I survive.\"\n\nHe stared at her for a moment and once again tried to peer into her soul. She could feel it and smiled at his feeble attempt.\n\n\"You're too weak, young one,\" she said with a laugh as she shook her head.\n\nAttempting a different tack, he blinked his eyes forcibly and became confused as he stared at her. She knew he was trying to peer into her, but didn't know what he was attempting. Arinai couldn't feel his intrusion. She did, however, sense his confusion. She furrowed her brow and looked at him curiously. She asked him what was causing him so much grief.\n\n\"I'm trying to see your demon,\" he replied. \"It's very odd.\"\n\n\"What is it that you see?\"\n\nJames thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders and began to describe what he was seeing.\n\n\"I see two figures,\" he said. \"One a young and vibrant woman, the other a mirror copy, but not quite human. To be honest, I don't understand what I'm seeing.\"\n\nArinai smiled as he spoke and nodded her head. She became contemplative and spoke plainly.\n\n\"I have never seen her,\" Arinai said. \"I feel her, though. She's a part of me so much so that I feel odd saying _her_ as if we're different. I'm we, and we are Arinai. It has been that way since I left home all those years ago.\"\n\n\"What happened to you?\"\n\nShe shrugged her shoulders abjectly.\n\n\"That's a story for another time. The short answer is that I was born, just like you, and when our people arose I became what you see before you. Am I a god? No, but then again neither are you, and you'll do well to remember that fact. I have seen many of our kin go insane with power. It's at times like that when the rest of the world becomes fearful and begins to hunt us. The Dearg-Due was the first vampire, Irish in origin, and if she had fed off of livestock and taught her spawn to do the same, then history might have been more kind to their breed. They took her name before the world branded them as vampires.\"\n\nJames appeared fascinated by the tales. He smiled for her and they spent several more minutes together. All the while, she gave him information about what to expect with Rome. If she was attempting to frighten him, then her imagery, horrific stories, and sense of foreboding allowed her to do accomplish the feat very well. She could see him becoming more fearful as she spoke. After that, they ate a small dinner, had one more dance, and left the bar.\n\nIt was a fun ride back to his apartment, and this time she made him aware as the driver turned on the radio and listened to music. In similar fashion, the waiting attendant in his lobby began to bob his head to some imaginary tune when they arrived. As James began to understand the possibilities for Arinai's power, he understood why the attendant had allowed Arinai to wait on the couch; the man had been too busy dancing to his own tune to know that she was even there, and he whispered his observation to Arinai as they walked.\n\n\"There's no need to whisper,\" she said. \"When we are like this, he will not hear us.\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" he said. \"I can certainly see the uses for this power.\"\n\nThey headed to the elevators, and James paused for a moment. Something wasn't right, and Arinai could feel it. Thinking for a moment, she cast out her mind and quickly found an interesting void near his apartment. Outside the door to his unit, a shadow crept. James looked about himself and Arinai and then to the outside, through the glass entryway. Arinai followed his gaze and saw the shadows moving slowly about, almost like a thick fog. They were still following him, as they always did, but they weren't the same entity as what she was feeling upstairs.\n\nShe flicked her mind to the shadow by his door and immediately felt an awakening. The shadow moved. It stood, and it smiled warmly. James let out a small chuckle and smiled himself. He had felt exactly what Arinai had felt, but somehow he understood it.\n\nArinai watched the entire scene in fascination. She could see the odd expression on his face and knew that he was trying to ascertain something. When he had smiled and relaxed, she breathed a mental sigh of relief; she had feared that something bad had happened.\n\n\"Arinai, do you mind if we call it a night?\"\n\nShe analyzed him, his response, his attitude, and his mannerisms. Like many men, he could be easy to read at times. She now understood the shadow by his door and was amused by his attitude.\n\n\"Is she a friend?\" she asked.\n\n\"She is...\" he started and then paused as he thought about how to answer the question. He didn't seem to know how to reply.\n\n\"Yes, she's a friend.\" he finally answered.\n\nArinai knew who she was; she had been watching him carefully enough to know that Vera was now a part of his life. She nodded her head at his request.\n\n\"Of course,\" she said. \"We can meet again soon.\"\n\nJames thanked her, wished her good night and headed to the elevator.\n\n\"Oracle,\" Arinai said loud enough to stop him before he entered the elevator. He turned and looked to her, then the attendant, who was still oblivious to their presence. Arinai joined him and her face became serious.\n\n\"What is she?\" she asked, revealing her knowledge of Vera.\n\nJames cocked his head and thought for a moment. He scrutinized Arinai, and try as she might, she couldn't ascertain his thoughts. James shook his head to signify his ignorance as to what Vera was.\n\n\"Do you know what she is?\" he asked in return.\n\n\"No, I don't,\" she replied. \"I have seen many forms of life, even many Roman beasts, but nothing like her. I have seen faeries and sprites and cave demons. I have seen so much, so many amazing things. Once I even saw my...\" she stopped talking as her voice trailed off and she saddened.\n\nHer mind raced back in time to an experience she hadn't remembered in a long time. She shook her head and was about to change the subject, but instead she finished her sentence, solemnly and calmly.\n\n\"Once I even saw my father cry,\" she said in completion of her previous thought. She paused for a moment and James didn't interrupt. \"I have seen much in my life, and many things I couldn't understand. However, in all my years I have never seen one such as her. She is unfamiliar, and that worries me.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Oh, like many people, I too fear the unknown.\"\n\nJames nodded his head in understanding.\n\n\"Oracle, what did you do to her?\" she asked quizzically.\n\nJames looked at Arinai for a second without responding. His mouth opened as if he was going to speak but it closed just as quickly. In the end, he admitted that he didn't know, and Arinai, suspecting that he was lying, allowed the matter to drop. They then bid each other farewell and separated.\n\nArinai left the building and considered the current situation; he was becoming more powerful each day. She could still hold off his mental pushes, but he was getting better at them, and she could no longer pressure his mind for information. She received bits and pieces, but not the whole image. He was becoming closed off to her.\n\nWhat worried her more was an attack that she had never expected. She had trained herself well against the attacks from his mind—that was a matter of necessity. She held her thoughts strong in his presence and hid her life from his view. She knew more about him than he knew about himself, and she could sense the latent power in the probes on her identity. Eventually, he would learn new techniques, and she would be stripped of her protection. She didn't believe she could hide from the Oracle forever, but she would do whatever she could to postpone his inquiries into her mind.\n\nHowever, this new attack was something for which she had no planned defense, and she found the attack to be defeating her. She had danced with him and revealed many aspects of her life, even a fact about her father. As she walked through a light rain, she had to snort at the stupidity of her actions. There would be no sense in guarding her mind if she learned to trust him to the point that all he had to do was ask and she would answer. The current problem was that James was fast becoming that trusted person, and she shook her head in disbelief and regret at the information that she had revealed.\n\n_Why did I tell him that?_ she asked herself. _What will he think of me?_ The two thoughts had no answer and began to circle her mind.\n\nShe cast her mind back to her oracle; he was riding the elevator to the top floor, and he was happy. She didn't begrudge him his lover. What Arinai had learned of the girl, she had liked. However, she did begrudge him the feelings of trust that he was engendering in her. She found it to be a double edged sword. She trusted him but was wary of him for that very same fact.\n\n### Chapter 11\n\nVera smiled as she rested on James' chest. She had managed to keep her distance these past few days, but he was glad that she had now returned to his apartment. When he told her this, she had become warm and engaging.\n\n\"Really,\" she said excitedly. \"I was going to stop by before, but I didn't want to come across as some love struck teenager.\"\n\nJames stroked her hair as he stared at the ceiling. He was oddly content and Vera could feel it. It pleased her to make him happy, and his acceptance of her was gratifying as well as something she desired. She was also pleased that he could satisfy her sexually; her last few lovers were too young and inexperienced to provide much enjoyment, a fact that she had no problem telling him about.\n\n\"Vera, have you told anyone about our situation?\"\n\n\"Hell no,\" she said in response. \"I don't think my father would approve. He rarely approves of anything I do or anyone I date.\"\n\nJames was confused for a moment and then realized the ambiguity of the question he had asked. \"I meant, have you told anyone about our odd physical condition?\"\n\n\"Oh, that,\" she said. \"No, but I think Anna knows, or at least suspects.\"\n\n\"How's that?\" he asked as he sat up and pulled her to him.\n\n\"She saw me materialize yesterday. I told her that she was imagining things, but I don't think she bought it. She's kinda silly that way.\"\n\n\"She's silly? Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?\" he joked.\n\nVera appeared confused and stared at him; she hadn't understood the reference.\n\n_Oh, wow_ , he thought to himself as he realized that she was unfamiliar with the cliché. \"It's just an expression. It means that you calling your sister silly, when you can be silly yourself, is a little hypocritical.\"\n\n\"Does that bother you, that I can be silly?\"\n\n\"It did at first, but you're young. And I will admit that your relationship with your sister is heartwarming. You seem to care for her a great deal.\"\n\n\"I do. She's a lot of fun, and we get along well. I take care of her most of the time. Although, I find it funny; other girls can't stand their sisters wanting to be like them, but it doesn't bother me. Besides, I can't get along with my mom and dad.\"\n\nJames could understand. Vera had a desire for family and love, and she found that in Anna. James had no siblings of his own and very little family left in this world. That fact didn't bother him—it just was.\n\n\"So, she saw you materialize?\"\n\n\"Yep, she thought it was cool. I told her that she was crazy.\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" James replied as he thought seriously about the situation. Vera watched him think and smiled as she did so; she liked watching him.\n\n\"Can I ask you something, Jimmy?\"\n\nJames eyes widened at the question.\n\n\"It's James, not Jimmy.\"\n\nHe was serious and Vera turned away abashed. She cast her eyes down for a moment, embarrassed that she had upset him. James almost returned to his quiet contemplations but noticed the insecurities of the woman in his arms. Squeezing her tight, he kissed her head.\n\n\"Hey,\" he said. \"No worries. I just don't like Jimmy.\"\n\nVera brought her eyes back to him and offered him a weak smile before looking away to the wall.\n\n\"What am I?\" she asked quietly. \"What's happening to me?\"\n\nJames looked down at her. This was a conversation that had been avoided by them; neither one of them had felt comfortable discussing the situation, him for fear of facing the truth presented to his senses, and her for fear of the truth itself.\n\n\"I don't know. I'm still learning myself, and what I'm learning, I'm having difficulty believing.\"\n\n\"Really, like what?\"\n\nShe was curious and appeared eager. James decided that he had little to lose, so he told her of his life over the past few months. It had been fairly boring until a few weeks ago, when small incidents had begun to coalesce and culminate into a larger picture. The blood pit fascinated Vera, as did his tale of the succubus. She found his tale of their initial meeting at the Sculpture Park to be unsettling. He was ignorant of her discomfort and unaware that she felt insecure hearing about her drugged state.\n\nThe tale of Arinai surprised her, and Vera begged for every little detail. She wished to know all about her and asked if they could meet. The tale continued, and each new detail was met with fascination.\n\n\"Do you think it's all true?\" she asked.\n\n\"I don't know,\" he replied. \"I'm disinclined to believe much of it; however, my senses and logic are being assaulted by things I can't understand. Perhaps some of it's true, perhaps all of it. I will have to wait to see.\"\n\nVera appeared uncomfortable, and James was able to discern her uneasiness as she considered the subject.\n\n\"Is something wrong?\" he asked her.\n\nVera startled at the question and then decided to answer it with a question of her own. \"Do you think Arinai is right about the Church? Are they our enemy? Will they come for us?\"\n\nJames shrugged his shoulders and gave a non-committal answer\n\n\"Who knows?\" he said. \"For the moment, I just want to be left alone to live my life.\"\n\nVera tensed in his arms, and when he looked at her he realized his mistake.\n\n\"I don't mean you,\" he said with a smile. \"I just mean these others. I'm no oracle, and even if I am, I want to be left in peace. I'm happier reading on my couch or enjoying the symphony than dealing with demons or mental patients or whatever these people are. If they must deal with me, they can make an appointment and I'll refer them to a specialist.\" He smiled and laughed as he said this. A specialist for a vampire? That would be interesting.\n\nVera was still upset, but James was now more keen to her feelings and picked it up easily.\n\n\"What is it?\" he asked.\n\nShe didn't immediately reply, and he had to ask her again. Vera pulled away from him and left the bed. He watched her curiously as she made her way to her clothes. Her form was marvelous to watch, and he smiled as he became aroused.\n\nWhen she came back she held something in her hand and offered it to him. James took it and examined the item. It was a crucifix on a chain.\n\n\"I don't always wear it,\" she said. \"I didn't think you would like it.\"\n\nJames understood her dilemma.\n\n\"Vera, this doesn't bother me in the least. It's your belief, and if you need it, then it's fine. I will respect that. And, should Rome come, then Rome will come. We'll just deal with that when it happens.\"\n\nVera smiled.\n\n\"Thank you,\" she said. \"I can't tell you how much I appreciate the support.\"\n\nJames smiled for her and began to place the necklace around her neck.\n\n\"I was raised Catholic,\" she said dipping her head so he could put the chain around her, \"and while I haven't been the best Christian, I maintained the faith.\"\n\nWhen the crucifix was in place, she played with it in her fingers and James pulled her to him, snuggling her in close. The couple continued to talk and discuss their situation, each asking questions and posing theories. It didn't take long before Vera drifted off into a contented sleep, but James was unable to rest. He carefully left his bed after ensuring that Vera was resting comfortably and made his way to the living room. He poured a glass of wine, sat in his chair, and looked out towards the city that stretched before him. The tall panoramic windows were filled with the odd shadows and lights of the surrounding buildings.\n\nHis shadows soon joined him, moving to and fro as they continued their enjoyment of his company, or perhaps it was curiosity of him. James stretched out his mind and sent it into the shadows. He could begin to feel them slightly and sensed a force of will. It was non-descript and primal. It was neither good nor evil, more like a young child that could go either way depending on how its parents raised it.\n\nJames left the shadows to their own devices and cast his mind out to the city. He felt one beast and then another. There were more than he expected, and he visited each in turn. Names and faces came to him, and every one of them had a story to tell; he didn't listen.\n\nGreat people think of ideas, small people think of gossip.\n\nThe sentence came to mind as he recalled a principle that he tried to adhere to. He hated gossip. He preferred his novels, and for some reason, peering into these beings' intimate lives reminded him of gossip. Besides, he really didn't want to get involved, but try as he might he found himself drawn to them, at least in part.\n\nHe continued his search and located being after being. When he probed them, it wasn't for their idiosyncrasies that he marveled, nor was it their memories, lovers, or victims. He marveled at their form, their biology, and the fact that they had stayed hidden for so long—they were a species lost to mankind via legend and indifference, like the giant squid of the ocean that until recently had only been mythological.\n\nJames located his vampire comrades and watched them briefly. Drake was resplendent in a double breasted suit and was attending a fine dinner with a lovely lady. James knew that Drake would not feed on her—he didn't need to, as he was already sated from animal blood.\n\nBadir was located at a bar. He was tempting fate by infuriating patrons with insults and blatant egotism. It was an odd game that amused only himself. Badir was an ass, but he was a clever one, and James could see how well he manipulated the other people in the bar. He was very careful to prod his victims only so far, and the ones that he prodded further were ones that he knew he could handle quickly and discreetly.\n\nAlicia seemed very odd to James. She didn't fit the profile of the others of her kind. She was also more difficult to locate, but James did eventually find her. She was sitting atop the Fremont troll, a large concrete statue carved below a bridge. She was looking down the hill to the waterway and the cars that passed along the streets nearby. James was curious as he tried to ascertain why she was there. He didn't enter her mind too far, but he did get a sense of sadness. She was very old and very kind. That realization wasn't something he expected; no vampire was ever kind, at least not if you believed the stories. He left her there, sitting atop the enormous statue, contemplating her existence.\n\nFor an hour, he felt one form and then another, one beast and then another. He searched for Arinai and her friend Camulas. He could find neither. Standing, he made his way to his large TV and turned it on. He converted it to the computer inputs and began to research the god of war. While there was little or no information on Arinai, Camulas had several notations in legend. Still, much of the information was shrouded in mystery.\n\nSleep eventually caught up with him, and before it took him completely, he made his way back to bed. He smiled at the woman that lay there and stroked her hair before joining her. She snuggled up as he returned to her, and he allowed it.\n\nThe next morning, they awoke and enjoyed a fine breakfast. Vera was very animated, and James laughed as she burned his eggs. She had wanted to surprise him with breakfast but had instead surprised him with blaring smoke detectors. He calmed her fretting nerves, and then helped her clean the mess and start anew. She thanked him, and they both assisted with breakfast.\n\nAs she ate and regaled him with stories of college classes that she had taken and jobs she had tried, he smiled and enjoyed her animation. It all seemed very simple to him, and served as a stark contrast to his own life. She was changing just as much as he was, but for some reason she remained emotionally unaffected. He couldn't help but ponder the more serious aspects of his situation, and then envy Vera for the carefree attitude she displayed.\n\n_It's the folly of youth_ , came a thought into his head.\n\nJames was startled. The thought didn't appear to be his, and yet it was. He tried to search out to its origins but was unsuccessful. Vera continued to chatter, and James nodded along, all the while wondering about his odd thought. The only approximation he could think of was schizophrenia. He had studied it a lot lately, and this was a classic sign: voices in the head.\n\n\"How about dinner tonight?\" he asked in an attempt to change the subject. He didn't care to distract her from her discussion; he cared to sway his mind from its current train of thought.\n\n\"Dinner?\" she asked curiously and with caution.\n\n\"Yes, dinner. I can pick you up, or we can meet somewhere. How about the Copacabana at Post Alley? It's by the market.\"\n\n\"Never heard of it.\"\n\n\"Nice place,\" he said, \"and we can sit out on the deck. The weather should be decent, and we can enjoy the night. They serve Bolivian food, if that's all right?\"\n\nVera had never eaten Bolivian food and admitted as much, but she accepted the invitation readily. They agreed to meet later in the evening due to James' work, and the matter was settled. Vera insisted she could make it on her own and James, while wanting to be the gentleman by seeing to her safety, agreed to allow her to meet him at the restaurant. They then set about eating breakfast and then two lovers left the apartment, both with anticipation for the coming evening.\n\n### Chapter 12\n\nThe sun was bright and the weather warm as Arinai walked the waterfront. She had a smile on her face and nodded a polite hello to the people that passed her by. Finally making her way to the wooden rail, she set herself alongside several others that were watching the seals at play. They were energetic today, and Arinai could see why.\n\nA selkie was in their midst, and it encouraged its look-a-like cousins to frolic. Arinai easily distinguished the selkie and smiled as it moved through the water. Her companions on the pier couldn't distinguish between the two species, but they didn't need to. They only needed to see seals jumping and splashing.\n\nA flutter of motion on the waves caught her attention, and Arinai smiled widely as she realized what it was. She almost caught her breath in wonderment and had to stifle a joyous cry. While she remained constrained, her amusement was expressed in the profound exclamation the child nearest her.\n\n\"Mommy! Mommy!\" the little girl cried. \"Did you see the little girl on the waves? She was dancing on the bubbly white stuff.\"\n\n\"No, dear. I didn't see it.\"\n\n\"Oh look, there she is again.\"\n\nThe girl pointed at the water nymph, who had made another appearance for the seals. The child's mother hadn't seen it, nor had anyone else, but the little girl insisted it was there. Arinai smiled and kept her gaze on the water. Like the little girl, she wanted to see the nymph one more time.\n\nThe selkie stopped its playfulness and parked itself directly in front of Arinai's position. It bobbed up and down in the water, as seals tend to do. It watched the woman before it and attempted to come to terms with what it was seeing. It didn't take long for Arinai to witness a wisp of water near the selkie as the water nymph joined its playmate in mutual contemplation of the lady on the pier.\n\n\"Isn't it pretty?\"\n\nArinai looked to her left and at the little girl that had joined her. She had left her mother in order to get a better glimpse of the wonderful event. Arinai smiled broadly and nodded to the girl who had taken her eyes off the water just long enough to receive acknowledgement from her new pier mate.\n\nCrouching to child height, and returning her gaze to the water, Arinai spoke quietly.\n\n\"Would you like to see them dance?\" she asked, barely containing her smile.\n\n\"Oh, yes! That would be sooo cool.\"\n\nArinai stood and stretched her mind. She found what she was looking for just a few yards away. He was a flutist, playing for the people on the sidewalk as they passed. As Arinai felt for him, his instrument paused mid-tune and changed in tempo and volume.\n\nLeaving his position, his case, and all of his tips unattended, he began to walk, moving closer to the water. He didn't know why, but then again he didn't know the tune that he was now playing; Arinai did, however. It was a Celtic flute solo, very lively as it rose in tempo, and very difficult to perform. Not many flutists could play it at speed or hit the tonal heights the piece required. But that didn't matter as Arinai gave him the abilities he required. She was pleased that he was already skilled, and her gentle push served only to accentuate his raw talent.\n\nThe selkie listened as the notes wafted across the waves. It didn't take long before it was joined by its playmates. Soon, several seals bobbed their heads as they listened, and the scene appeared magical. Humans watched seals, and seals watched humans. For a moment in time, no one moved.\n\n\"Go play,\" Arinai whispered.\n\nThe only ones to hear her were the child at her side and her fellow spirits in the water. As she pushed the tune further, permeating the depths of the water, the selkie could feel it and the nymph smiled.\n\nIn unison, the seals took off. They made speed out towards the middle of the Sound, jumping about each other with amazing skill and accuracy before turning back towards the pier. Two of them broke the surface and jumped one way while two more jumped the other. Back and forth they went, first moving away from the pier, next moving back, and with each splash of the wave and creation of froth, the nymph danced. It was a dance of vigor and grace, only to be seen by the innocence of children and Arinai.\n\nThe selkie dove deep to the sea floor and listened as the music saturated the ocean depths—an underwater gift from the goddess on the pier. He swung around and headed to the surface, breaking free and turning gracefully about before returning to the water.\n\nFor several minutes, the humans and seals performed for each other—the former in sheer amazement as they captured the moment with cameras and wild exclamations. The flutist's piece came to a thrilling end, and the dancing seals began to slow and then rest from their mild exertion. Soon, several animals could be seen bobbing about again, and others could be seen heading out into the Sound, jumping and splashing as they did so.\n\nArinai left her friends of the water and the child who now stood in amazement, vigorously trying to tell her mother about the little girl that danced on the waves.\n\nSmiling grandly, Arinai made her way down the pier and eventually came to the stodgy and stoic man she was looking for.\n\n\"You always seem so serious,\" she said.\n\nCamulas only raised an eyebrow in response. He looked down at the notes in his hand and then up to the rising hill before him. It rose very steeply. Outside of the roads were two staircases cut into the hill, and at their top was Pike Place Market—a brief respite in the climb before the hill continued farther eastward into Seattle.\n\n\"Is all of this necessary?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied curtly.\n\nArinai would not be demoralized. She had just witnessed something that she hadn't seen in centuries, and she found that she hoped this sort of scene was the beginning of many more to come.\n\n\"All right,\" Arinai said as she followed Camulas on his walk along the pier. \"Why don't you tell me what you see?\"\n\nCamulas looked skeptically at the woman at his side but eventually shrugged his shoulders and complied.\n\n\"The waterfront is not a good defensive position,\" he said. \"But I see some promise to the hill. There is also the Alaskan Way Viaduct above us. That has some defensible positions.\"\n\nCamulas pointed to the raised freeway before them. It was concrete and built in three raised sections: the waterfront level, and two more stacked on top of each other like pancakes.\n\n\"How is that useful?\" Arinai asked.\n\n\"At the top levels you have the Battery Street Tunnel. It would work as a choke point for troops and may make a decent position to defend or lead an enemy into a trap.\"\n\n\"Do you really think Rome will send troops?\" Arinai asked doubtfully.\n\n\"I don't know what they will send,\" he answered, \"but I will be prepared. Before they get here I will walk this city and plan my battlegrounds. If I must defend myself, then I will find the most defensible positions. If I must attack, then I will search for height. I must also plan for single attacks, ambushes, varying numbers of soldiers, open attacks, and much more. Either way, I will learn this city and prepare for war, no matter what form that war will take.\"\n\nArinai was still happy from her playful events of just moments before, so her companion's serious attitude didn't affect her greatly. She smiled and nodded her head in understanding of the situation. Camulas was Camulas. He was a creature of battle and conflict. To him, this exercise was something he did and enjoyed, and she couldn't and wouldn't interfere with it.\n\n### Chapter 13\n\n\"James, over here!\"\n\nJames turned his head at the sound and spied Vera near the entrance to Post Alley. He immediately swore to himself when he saw that she wasn't alone; her family was with her.\n\nThey approached each other, and James saw that Mr. and Mrs. Monroe were just as surprised to see him. An odd exchange of introductions was made in which the Monroe's judged the man and the situation. To all of the adults, which excluded Anna, the relationship between James and Vera was obvious.\n\n\"I bet you don't remember me?\"\n\nJames looked down. \"Of course I do, Anna, and you're just as pretty as the first time I saw you.\"\n\nAnna smiled at the compliment, and Vera appreciated the kindness to her sister, expressing the sentiment with warm eyes.\n\n\"Mr. Connor, may I speak with you a moment?\"\n\nJames looked to Mr. Monroe and nodded slightly as he stepped farther down the alley. Vera saw the stern look on her father's face as he passed her, and understanding dawned.\n\n\"Daddy, don't\" she begged him. She had attempted to be quiet, but James heard her anyway. It didn't matter, both men continued their walk unhindered.\n\n\"What is it that you're doing with my daughter?\" asked an angry Mr. Monroe when they were out of earshot.\n\n\"I planned on taking her to dinner.\"\n\n\"I'm not amused, Mr. Connor,\" was the response. \"You know exactly what I mean. You're too old for her, and I don't approve of this sneaking around to hide your relationship.\"\n\nJames was momentarily stunned. He had dealt with upset fathers before—it was a rite of passage that bordered on the cliché. However, this particular assault was unexpected and unwarranted.\n\n\"Too old?\" he asked rhetorically. \"I'm only ten years older than she is, and I resent the accusation that we've been sneaking around. Your daughter is an adult, and if she didn't tell you about us then that was her decision. Besides, I would think that her arriving here tonight with you in tow would prove that she's not hiding anything. Quite the opposite, actually.\" James paused for a moment in mock confusion. \"Why are you here, anyway?\" he asked, putting the man on the defensive.\n\nVera was correct about one thing: this man could get easily angered when the topic of his daughter came up. While James believed the man may be a great attorney, his family was a weak spot for him. Before the man could answer, his wife was at his side. She begged James for a minute of her husband's time. The angry Mr. Monroe didn't want to move, but an insistent wife is a powerful entity that can't be easily ignored. The Monroes soon headed down the alley, deep in conversation.\n\nVera and Anna were soon at James' side.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" Vera said in embarrassment. \"I didn't know that this would happen. They're only here because I told them I was going to Belltown, and they decided to give me a ride. They're not joining us for dinner.\"\n\nJames watched the Monroes as they argued and barely registered what Vera had said. His shadows seemed to be very interested in the couple, especially with the man that had assaulted him; they danced around him like angry bees. James couldn't determine what the shadows wanted, but he sent out a calming thought, attempting to mollify them.\n\nThe shadows seemed to sense his interest in them, and James began to feel them in a way that hadn't manifested before. He tilted his head one way and then the other and concentrated on the shadows as the shadows concentrated on the couple. Sounds began to come to his ears, and James heard several muffled words before he realized that he was listening to the Monroes' conversation. It was quiet and odd, like listening to an argument through a wall. It took him a moment to realize that the shadows were acting as a listening device, and that if he concentrated, he could make out the conversation.\n\n\"I don't care, Thomas. Now, you listen to me. You have been too strict on her these last few years, hoping that she'd grow up. In that time she has left college, dated losers, and tried drugs, and I'm tired of it. Do you remember what she did the last time you scared off a boyfriend? She went out and found a worse one. Now, this man may be older, but he is a professional with a good job, and from what I hear he is well off. So you choose. This man or some loser she'll find on the street.\"\n\n\"I will do what I think...\"\n\n\"NO!\" Mrs. Monroe said loudly. \"You'll accept this. I would rather have my baby with this man than some drug dealer. Now, you'll go over there and apologize and let them have a life.\"\n\n\"What are you doing?\" Vera whispered to James as he listened to her parents.\n\n\"I don't know,\" he responded in confusion.\n\nTruthfully, he did know what he was doing, but he couldn't explain it, at least not on a level that made sense to his mind. So he was left with shaking his head and being amazed, both by what he heard as well as how he heard it.\n\n\"Well, isn't this just a pretty picture,\" a deep voice said from nearby.\n\nJames knew that voice and turned to Badir. The man had perched himself on an ornate wrought iron gate that separated Post Alley from the private apartment entrance just beyond.\n\n\"Wow! That's neat,\" Anna said in amazement of the man on the fence. \"How'd you get up there?\"\n\nJames held his hand to Anna's shoulders in an attempt to quell the child's curiosity. Vera was just as curious and eyed the man as he eyed them.\n\n\"Badir, what do you want?\"\n\n\"The same thing I wanted before,\" he said, clasping his hands together and adding to the surreal image of his awkward perch. \"I want you, and I want your support. By the way, I found it very easy to sneak up on you today. Now that I know who and what you are, I'll be able to do it anytime I want.\"\n\nJames knew that was untrue; Badir had gotten this close because he was distracted by the Monroes. It was a lesson he took to heart.\n\n\"Who are you, and what do you want?\" Vera asked curiously. She knew something was off with this man, but she didn't know what.\n\n\"My, my, what do we have here? Something new, I see.\" Badir looked at Vera with lust. It was awkwardly apparent, and Vera felt sick. She turned away with disgust.\n\n\"Leave her out of this,\" James seethed through his teeth.\n\nBadir didn't seem to notice as he leaned forward and extended his position, which stretched the imagination for one's ability to balance. Vera backed up in fear, and her shadow tendrils whipped out to the nearby lights. She meant to extinguish a light, but Badir's senses allowed him to see the tendril as it whipped past him, and he was confused; he was being confronted with something he had never seen before, and for a moment he lost his balance. Badir barely caught himself before he hit the ground. His landing was graceful, but his fall had been disjointed—like a cat that righted itself only moments before hitting the ground.\n\nVera held her hand to her mouth as she stifled a laugh. Badir wasn't as amused. He was embarrassed and angry—a dangerous combination in a man, let alone a demon.\n\n\"You witch!\" he cried.\n\nHis actions were fast, too fast for anyone to react.\n\nThe world spun as James was flung across the alley. He could hear screams and yelling, and when he shook his head clear he saw Badir on top of Vera. She lay on the ground, uselessly fighting against the attacker with his fangs in her throat. Down the alley, Mrs. Monroe was screaming, and Mr. Monroe was yelling. James attempted to stand, but his head immediately swam.\n\n\"Fight him, Vera!\" he yelled, and as before, he felt a connection to the woman.\n\nHer back arched as if struck suddenly by electricity. Badir fought her as she bucked, holding his position. He bit in deeply, tearing flesh in an effort to hold on even at the expense of drawing blood. James watched through blurred vision as tendrils left her body, flailing wildly about as they did. They hit Badir sporadically and the lights of the alley as well. The entire scene began to fade in and out of darkness as the illumination began to flicker.\n\nVera made an attempt to disappear, but this only provided an odd view of a vampire holding onto thin air. It was replaced by Vera's image pulsating through the visual range. Badir was confused as his prey disappeared in front of him, but as he could still feel her in his grasp, he continued to hold his ground.\n\nThe shadows danced about the combatants, swirling one way and then another. James fought for balance and a standing position. As he made it to his feet, his mind screamed.\n\nHelp her!\n\nMuch as with the blood pit, the shadows paused in their movements, almost as if they were contemplating the command. The contemplation was soon over, and they attacked Badir. They dove at him, around him, and through him. Shadow tendrils of their own right joined with the tendrils of Vera, and a coordinated attack ensued. They attacked the demon's body and soul. Soon, they began to feed on his very being.\n\nThis was an attack that Badir had never known, and it didn't last long. Unsure of what was happening, the vampire released his hold. He stood and backed away as he swatted at the shadows. After a moment, he began to realize that without the beast who was pretending to be a woman, the shadows were mere nuisances. Vera was the real threat.\n\nJames was now on his feet and ran to Vera. He grabbed her and began to apply pressure to the wound on her neck. She was convulsing, and he held her as best he could while protecting her. Badir hissed loudly. James turned to the man and thought only one thing.\n\n_Ignore us,_ he commanded with hatred while his eyes burned into the very essence of the vampire. James didn't know if this tactic would work; it was an act of desperation, and little thought entered into his mind in consideration of the action.\n\nBadir blinked several times and looked about. He tried to get his bearings and pay attention to where he was and what was happening around him. His attention was quickly drawn to the screaming woman just down the alley and the man on the phone yelling for the police.\n\nBadir was confused, hurt, and angry, and he reacted with violence. In an instant, he was upon the man, smashing him into the wall. The woman was attacked next; Badir was at her throat, ripping it open with his teeth, foregoing a meal for the silence of a witness. Her death was much quicker than the one he had planned for Vera. This time there was no resistance.\n\nAnna screamed for her mother as she had for Vera, and ran down the alley. She came upon Badir who was still tending to Mrs. Monroe and began to pelt the demon's legs with her small hands.\n\n\"Help them,\" Vera whispered.\n\nJames had been watching the scene and now looked at his patient. She was weak and didn't move, and she could do nothing but watch as her parents were murdered.\n\n\"Help them,\" she whispered again, tears coming to her eyes.\n\nJames didn't know what to do. He sent out another thought to Badir, but there was no effect. Another command, followed by another, had similar disappointing results. When Badir swatted Anna away, Vera lurched. She couldn't move voluntarily, but her heightened emotions had temporarily overridden her mind's pained state and caused her spasm. At a loss for what to do, James began to panic and found it hard to think.\n\n_Arinai, help us!_ he cried with all his mind.\n\nA wave of emotion swept before him and cast out into the city. Across the streets, the hills, the waterways, his cry went out, and it was felt by all of his brethren. The selkie in the Sound, the troll about to feed on a stray dog, and every other being in Seattle paused as they sensed the summoning.\n\nAcross the city, Arinai felt it and could easily pinpoint its origin. It was far from her, too far for her to be of any assistance, and she feared the worst. She cast her eyes in the general direction of the call. A lone wolf howl pierced the night; it was the response of a lycan, and Arinai knew that James' position and existence was now well known.\n\n\"Oh, Oracle, what have you done?\" she whispered into the night.\n\nBadir himself felt the call as well, and it confused him. It was close, and yet he couldn't see its origin; James' command to be ignored was still in effect. Other people in the area had taken notice of the attack, and they could be heard yelling and calling for the police. Badir acted quickly. He made sure the man was dead by once again smashing his head to the ground. He turned to the woman, who was already dead, and began to hide his tracks. Her head was bashed and he ripped at her throat. All telltale signs of a vampire were to be wiped out—a survival trick her had learned centuries ago\n\nJames could only watch in awe while Vera watched in horror as her family was butchered. She could say nothing, and when Badir turned his attention to Anna, Vera convulsed again. James held her tight and could do nothing but listen to her labored breathing and rapid heartbeat.\n\n\"Stop him,\" she begged in a barely audible voice.\n\n_Hide her_ , James thought towards the shadows. _Protect her_ , he commanded\n\nThe shadows swarmed to Anna, confusing Badir for a moment; he shrugged them off quickly and continued with his task.\n\nVera watched as Badir picked up her sister and brought the young girls skull to the pavement. It crushed easily, leaving Vera an image of her sister's eyes staring at her, up to the point that they were no longer visible due to the damage being inflicted by downward pressure. Vera could say nothing, and couldn't avert her gaze as tears began to roll down her face.\n\nBadir wasted little time after that. He assured himself that his tracks would be minimal, and with his speed he was gone very quickly. Vera and James were left with nothing but the gruesome scene before them. Vera continued to breathe heavily and held onto James' arms as they remained wrapped around her.\n\nJames finally came to his senses. He was in shock and could feel nothing, but he had the presence of mind to pick up his lover. He took her in his arms, turned around, and carried her out of the alley.\n\nHe headed up the hill, past the shops and the people that were drawn by the commotion; they all seemed to ignore the tired and bloodied couple. James made it to his street and turned south, heading toward his building. It wasn't far, but that wouldn't have mattered—he felt no weakness from carrying her.\n\nThe outer glass door to his building was opened by a kind attendant who had somehow expected his arrival and decided to allow for easy access. The attendant greeted them warmly, blind to the fact that one of his employers was carrying a wounded woman. He then retrieved an elevator, and the entwined lovers entered. James made it to his floor, through the front door, and to his bedroom with little effort. Once there, he laid Vera down and carefully attended to her wound.\n\nIt wasn't as bad as he expected. The flesh was torn and the bite mark was obvious, but James had seen worse attacks from poodles. He didn't fear loss of blood—the attack had been so swift, and countered just as swiftly—that Badir hadn't had the time or opportunity to extract much. James had picked up that bit of information, as well as other odd tidbits, from the vampire's mind during the attack.\n\nVera spasmed and then calmed again. Her reactions were odd, and James attempted to speak to her. Although she was fully awake, she wasn't able to reply, and James didn't know if it was due to emotional pain or physical trauma. Watching her for a few minutes didn't produce any new insight, and his mind began to fall back on habit. He needed to get her to a hospital. He should have done that right away, why he hadn't was a reason that escaped him for the moment.\n\nHe left her on his bed and went to retrieve his phone. His actions were interrupted by a knock on the door and his thoughts were arrested by the need to answer it. He knew it was Arinai.\n\nOpening the door revealed the woman he expected and a man he hadn't. He was tall, broad shouldered, imposing, and possessed piercing dark eyes. He needed no introduction. James knew who we was immediately and nodded a greeting, which was ever so slightly returned. With understanding, James stepped aside, resigned to this newest intrusion into his world.\n\nThe god of war had come into his life.\n\n### Chapter 14\n\nThroughout the night, Vera was attended to by three very different individuals. She watched them as she reeled in pain, listening as they spoke of her condition. She found it hard to speak and said little. When she did open her mouth, it felt odd, different, and not her own.\n\nFrom James she felt concern. He had argued his case to take her to the hospital, but the other two argued against it. Vera herself had fought the idea when he tried to forcibly pick her up. She was angry with him and bared her teeth to vent that anger. She had been pleased by the look of fear and disgust on his face by her act of defiance. She didn't want his help, not now. She wanted it earlier, when it could have done some good. Now, she only wanted to die, and as the pain grew in intensity, she believed that she would.\n\nThe lights of the room continued to fade in and out as her tendrils covered and then uncovered them. Arinai hadn't seen this ability in a demon before and spent her time with Vera in awe. She asked comforting questions and attempted to soothe the anguishing girl. Vera found that she liked the woman, despite the situation that had thrust them together. She also believed that Arinai was as old as James had said; he may not believe her stories, but Vera did.\n\nCamulas also took a turn watching the patient, and Vera found that she liked him as well. He spoke little and watched her carefully, almost warily. She felt as if she were being analyzed and scrutinized. She did the same to him, and as she watched him, she haphazardly sent out her shadow tendrils to test his mettle; he didn't flinch, not like Badir had.\n\n\"If I suspect that you're a real threat to me, I will extinguish your life,\" he had said to her plainly.\n\nHe didn't say it in anger, or fear, or any other petty emotion. It was a statement of fact that he calmly offered to her. She ignored it and continued to tease him with her tendrils. He responded with a small blade to her throat. She has seen it emerge from nowhere as if in slow motion. That motion had initially sped up and then slowed down as she concentrated on it. It was a trick of her perception, but she was more curious about how the blade materialized than by the fact that the weapon was now at her throat.\n\nShe gritted her teeth through the pain, lifted her head, putting more pressure on the blade, and spit in the man's face. He didn't bother to wipe it off. He just leaned in closer and scrutinized her. Vera felt angry, sad, and many other emotions all at the same time. It was an interesting affair to also add the feeling of worthlessness to her current state of being. To Camulas, she was nothing but a possible threat to be dealt with, and she could sense it. If needs be, he would slit her throat and leave the room, allowing her to bleed out in silence.\n\nCamulas continued to size up Vera and decided she wasn't a threat, at least not at the moment. He removed his blade and Vera watched it go. Like before, she could sense the speed of the action, but her senses were compensating for that speed. She convulsed again and screeched into the night. Camulas took to a knee in pain and put his hands to his ears. It didn't help—the screech pierced his mind and he cried out in pain.\n\nThe other two quickly joined in the room and attempted to calm her. It took time. Vera was in no mood, nor any decent physical shape, to be calmed. She momentarily lost sight of the people in the room, and their voices trailed in and out as her consciousness wavered. She found it hard to breathe and the pain was terrible. Coming to a fetal position, she fought against the pain and breathed hard and fast. She felt a small pin prick to her arm, and after a moment of anger and a last second lashing of her tendrils, blissful nonexistence took her.\n\n\"We have to do something,\" James said as he put away the hypodermic needle.\n\n\"There is little we can do, Oracle,\" Camulas said dryly.\n\nJames shook his head and watched the sleeping form, she still writhed and as he put his hand to her cheek she calmed for him, sensing his presence.\n\n\"Why do I still sense Badir?\" James asked.\n\nThe others looked at him curiously.\n\n\"It's as if he's here but not,\" James said. \"I can't explain it.\"\n\n\"Follow me,\" Arinai said.\n\nShe then led the other two into the living room. It was very late, or very early, depending on how one looked at the time. Either way, the sun would be up soon.\n\n\"Do you sense him now?\" Arinai asked.\n\nJames searched with his mind and shook his head.\n\n\"Nothing,\" he said.\n\nArinai glanced to Camulas and gave him a knowing look. James caught it.\n\n\"What?\" he asked determinedly.\n\n\"Depending on the attack, Badir and Vera may be linked,\" Arinai said.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" James asked incredulously.\n\n\"The attack was most likely mental as well as physical,\" Camulas stated. \"A battle of wills, and they may still be waging it. From your description of the attack, and your sensing Badir while near Vera, we have to assume they are still linked somehow.\"\n\n\"Is that bad?\" James asked.\n\n\"It ain't good, Oracle,\" the man answered as if James were an idiot.\n\nJames moved angrily forward and Camulas stiffened. Arinai stood between them and held her hands apart.\n\n\"Enough,\" she said. \"We will have to hope that this connection with Badir is only temporary. We will also have to treat her with care. No discussing anything important in her presence. If they are connected, Badir might learn things from her.\"\n\n\"She already knows a lot,\" Camulas said.\n\n\"All the more reason she should not know anymore,\" Arinai said.\n\n\"But she needs to know about...\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Arinai said, putting her hand up and silencing James. \"Not a word. We need to concentrate on making her better.\"\n\nJames was about to retort, but Arinai silenced him with a glare. Nodding his head, he agreed and then moved onto the important tasks.\n\n\"We need to get her to a hospital,\" he said.\n\n\"We've already discussed this. We can't take her to the hospital. First off, they won't be able to help her. Secondly, they could do more harm than good. This is not a case of the flu.\"\n\n\"Well, what is it?\" James said. \"You seem to know nothing about this, and I find it hard to believe that the two of you claim to be nearly two thousand years old, have witnessed all this wonderment, and haven't seen anything like this.\"\n\nJames was angry, and that anger came through as he spoke.\n\n\"No, we haven't _seen_ anything like this,\" Arinai said.\n\nJames caught the error of statement. It was an odd hitch in her speech, and her expression betrayed her thoughts. He reached to her mind, and for a moment could see something there. It didn't last long, and he was returned to his normal mental state as she pushed back on him. However, the failure at seeing her mind didn't lead to a failure of his acuity and analysis of her words. A thought suddenly struck him as he realized Arinai's mistake.\n\n\"You haven't seen anything like this, but have you heard of something like this?\"\n\nThe two ancients stared at each other and suddenly became self-conscious in their movements. Camulas didn't reveal as much, but it was evident that something was wrong.\n\n\"What?\" James yelled, slamming his hand onto his island countertop.\n\nArinai returned her gaze to him and spoke slowly.\n\n\"The Dearg-Due was the first of what you call the vampires. She was born around 500 A. D. at the height of our former glory. Like others of our race, she was a combination of human and demon, but her demon wasn't so nice. I wasn't present at the time and never met this particular being, but I've heard that her initial attempts to procreate didn't end well. There were stories of wild orgies with men and women, filled with the sharing of blood and many other gruesome acts. Most of her lovers perished. It was some time before she was able to find a suitable man to join her in her fate; even her own mortal beloved didn't survive her bite.\"\n\n\"So, Vera is becoming a vampire? Is that what you're saying?\"\n\n\"No, not at all,\" Arinai said. \"I'm just saying that her condition reminds us of those tales. The Dearg-Due is dead, killed long ago by our own people for the horrors that she committed, and her current offspring have lost the ability to reproduce. The church took that away long ago.\"\n\nJames raised an eyebrow, and before he could say anything Arinai raised her hand to stop him, \"Don't ask how. We don't know. And if Drake or his kin know, they are certainly not telling us.\"\n\n\"Did you see her teeth when she bared them? That wasn't normal,\" James said as he recalled the jagged rows of teeth that Vera had displayed for him.\n\n\"None of this is normal,\" replied Camulas.\n\nIn silence, the group thought for a minute about the situation. It was Arinai that spoke first.\n\n\"We may need to put her out of her misery,\" she stated.\n\nJames flashed with anger.\n\n\"What?\" he asked. \"You must be joking.\"\n\n\"I am not,\" Arinai replied.\n\nShe was strong in her position and held her ground as her oracle expressed his emotional disbelief. \"She is in pain, she is dying, and she is hurt,\" Arinai said soothingly. \"You may not feel that hurt, but I can. Her heart aches, Oracle, and she wants that pain to stop more than her physical discomfort.\"\n\n\"That's too bad,\" James said. \"I told you before: I am not killing anyone, and I won't let you do it either. I won't harm her.\"\n\n\"Hardly the time to debate semantics about doing harm,\" Arinai said. \"But, if you won't do it, then we will.\"\n\n\"Never!\" cried James as he moved to her.\n\nHe didn't make it far before he was confronted by Camulas. The man was immovable and blocked James' path. James was both insulted and relieved. He wasn't a man of action, exactly; if he had been, then perhaps Vera wouldn't be in her current state. He was also unsure what he would have done if he had reached Arinai.\n\nHe slowly backed away from Camulas and turned to the window, taking a deep breath to calm himself. As he watched the city lighten, he knew that dawn was upon them. He wasn't tired. He was, however, saddened.\n\n\"I don't suggest killing her because it would be easy,\" Arinai said. \"This could be a merciful thing. We have heard horror stories about people changing after a bite from the Dearg-Due, and while something like this hasn't happened in centuries it may be happening now.\"\n\n\"I just want to help, and I don't know how,\" he whispered.\n\n\"You're the Oracle, it's your job to know how,\" Arinai whispered back. \"I would suggest that you stop feeling sorry about the events of last night and start to do that job.\"\n\nJames turned to Arinai, and anger rose again. He was about to fire a quip at her, but held his tongue, choosing instead to think about their situation and his actions. Oracle or not, he could still do his job. He had been trained to solve problems. Why had he forgotten that?\n\nHe needed information and he needed it now. Forgetting about the man and woman in the room, he moved with determination to his equipment. He turned on his TV, switched it to the internet, and began to search. His mind snapped into gear and he quickly found one odd case after another, each one leading him down another path. Some of these paths were discarded quickly, others were followed further. Arinai and Camulas just stood and watched; they didn't know what to make of the scene.\n\nJames cursed as he listed symptoms and found little correlation. He added his login for medical research companies and accessed diagnostic databases, specifically historical references. This may be something new, but it had to have presented in some form somewhere else before. His research led to chemical reactions and from there to allergies. Insight led him to venom.\n\nHe stopped and stared at his research. He needed more information, and the two ancients in the room were useless for that.\n\n\"You said that if Drake knew something, he would not tell you?\"\n\n\"That's correct.\"\n\nJames took a seat in his chair, stared at his screen and pondered as the anger swelled.\n\n\"Well, perhaps he'll tell me.\"\n\nHe cast out his mind and searched for the demons. He didn't ponder on his belief of the situation or whether he could do what he was attempting. He was angry and focused and needed to help his lover.\n\nIt took time, but he found Drake asleep in a high-rise hotel room, not far from his apartment. The heavy drapes, double locks, and _Do Not Disturb_ sign offered him the sanctuary that he required.\n\nJames entered Drake's mind but could find little useful information—the man's sleeping state was a mess. James picked up on one thought and then another. He watched with interest as Drake fed from his victims; he didn't kill them. On the contrary, he loved them, bled them, and saw that they had a fine time of it. The bleeding was the key to the attack, and James' mind focused on the teeth. He could see the teeth extend, similar in style to a rattlesnake with retraceable fangs. It was nothing new in nature, and James could easily see the biology behind it. He could also see the construction. Unlike the snake, Drake and his kin had two canals surrounded by enamel rather than a single channel: one to deliver venom designed to paralyze, the other to return blood for feeding. James even understood the toxin injected—at least as much as Drake did—it wasn't usually fatal, and offered a minor amnesiac effect.\n\n\"Very interesting,\" James whispered as he thought on the matter. Soon, a plan began to form. When he had it in hand, he rose quickly.\n\n\"If I leave you here, will you promise not to harm her?\"\n\nArinai thought for a moment and nodded her head.\n\n\"You too,\" James said as he pointed his finger at Camulas. The man didn't react much to the actions of the Oracle. He just snorted and looked amused.\n\n\"I'm not here to harm anyone,\" Camulas said curtly. \"I'm just here to protect you.\"\n\n\"I can protect myself.\"\n\n\"Can you, Oracle?\" Arinai asked. \"Tell me, when you cast your mind outside to the streets just below us, what do you see?\"\n\nJames took a moment to do as she asked. He stuttered for a moment as he felt the presence of several entities. There were perhaps six or seven in the vicinity. He had felt these beings before, but not in such numbers and in such close proximity to him.\n\n\"They know you're here,\" she said. \"They felt your call, just as I did. So Camulas is here to protect you and Vera.\"\n\n\"Will you be able to?\" he asked of Camulas. He was now humbled enough to swallow his pride.\n\nA simple nod was all that was given in response. Even without being able to probe him, James knew the man was sincere and correct; he would be able to protect Vera.\n\n\"I'll return later,\" James said as he began to gather his personal affects. \"I have some errands to perform. Please take care of her and let me know if she worsens. Can you call to me like I did to you? Can you reach out with your mind and send me information if the need arises.\"\n\nArinai appeared confused and blinked her eyes several times. She said nothing in response, but held her hand aloft to reveal the cell phone that she possessed. James felt like an idiot and shook his head. All of this magical and mystical crap was giving him a headache. He grabbed his own phone and a medical bag leftover from one of his jobs, and quickly left the apartment.\n\n\"What do you think he is up to?\" Camulas asked, after the door had shut.\n\n\"I have no idea, but he is growing stronger, and much faster than I would have expected. He actually saw a small piece of my life.\"\n\n\"That may be good for us.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but his emotional state is a concern. He cares for this girl a lot. I wonder what would happen to him if she were to die.\"\n\n\"I, for one, do not wish to find out. And as for the girl, she may end her own life one way or another. I have seen many people in similar states of anguish. At the moment, she has no fear of death and would actually welcome it.\"\n\nArinai sighed deeply as she considered the words of her friend. She believed he may be right, and that made her actions with regard to the girl all the more reprehensible. But she had little choice. Vera was still in a battle and this was not time interfere that fight with the truth.\n\n### Chapter 15\n\nSunlight greeted James as he entered the lobby, and he found it pleasing that the night was over. The building attendant greeted him warmly and was kind enough to obtain a cab for James, who entered it after taking a moment to ask for obscurity from the demons milling around outside; they appeared to comply with his wishes. They didn't notice him leave, but he noticed each of them. James could sense the danger of their proximity, and while it worried him, he had one bit of good news: he now knew that he was powerful enough to hide his presence from several demons at once.\n\nJames found it interesting that these beings went mostly unnoticed by people. The men and women who walked the streets appeared to ignore the demons they passed. They either didn't see them, or if they did, they saw nothing startling about them.\n\n_Is that an elf?_ James asked in wonderment as he saw a small impish creature sitting upon a light pole. _No, not an elf—a pixie_. He looked at it for a moment and suddenly knew its name, its age, and many other aspects of its life. He shook his head free of the images and directed the driver south. He needed the industrial area of Seattle.\n\nThe cabbie wound his way past the stadiums, going farther south until the skyscrapers gave way to chain link fences, storage yards, and industrial parks. James continued to give instructions, trusting his mind to lead him where he needed to go.\n\nThey soon arrived at an abandoned building where they stopped and parked. James ordered the driver to wait, gave him enough money to ensure that he would, and then left the vehicle. He then made his way around the building to the side. He could somehow sense the entrance and the best way in. It would not be easy.\n\nHe climbed on top of storage boxes and had to jump across to others. Making his way to a small broken window, James climbed in. He was now on the top floor of the building. It was only two stories, and the second floor was remodeled to be offices of some sort. They were nothing fancy and had a 1970s feel to them. Switching on a flashlight, James walked across the hall and moved into the deeper offices. He felt his prey nearby and sent out soothing tones. His heart beat faster, and as he closed, he could only think one thought.\n\nIgnore me. Ignore me. Oh God, please ignore me.\n\nHe stopped suddenly, struck by the ironic notion that he was praying to a god that he didn't believe in and one that if existed, probably wouldn't help him. Taking a deep breath, he continued his journey.\n\nJames soon reached a back office, and the darkness of the room was total. It was a fine office, that much was revealed by his light. The room was wood paneled, dry, and the insulation kept it moderate. The carpet was in decent repair, and more than one painting remained in place for decorations. If not for the economy, this room would serve a manager very well.\n\nCrossing the room, he came to a closet and held his breath as he prepared to open the door. He could feel her. She waited for him, and she was unaware that she did so. Steeling his courage, James slowly opened the door. The light of his flashlight hit her open eyes as she slept, and he could see her pupils instantly contract. It was an early warning signal and one he didn't expect. The beast blinked in reaction to the changing light, and James sent out a desire to be ignored. He then cast the flashlight down and asked Alicia to return to sleep. She complied, and James held his breath for a second. She didn't move.\n\nShadows cut across her as he held the light lower, but he could still see her features. She was very pretty and looked to be harmless in this state. Her unblinking eyes gave him a very awkward feeling; she was a living mannequin in this state, and he realized it was a state that very few beings had ever seen. Either they would not find her, or if they did, they would have awoken her long before seeing her like this.\n\nHe stood still for a moment and marveled at her. His heart continued to beat rapidly, but he couldn't move his eyes away. He felt like someone who was staring at a shark—any moment it could realize its situation and attack.\n\nHe felt for her mind and knew much about her. She was well past 600 years old and had been the young bride to a farmer in Briton. She loved her man very much and even bore him children. James watched the images play across his mind and could see the offspring helping with chores and enjoying meals together.\n\nIt was a proud husband that accepted the offer of a Dearg. He had heard stories of their power and might and wished it for himself. He was tired of farming and was caught in the middle of his life, questioning his own worth. Alicia had begged him to decline, but he would not be denied.\n\nJames continued to observe as Alicia watched her husband transform; he was lucky enough to be compatible with their kind, and James could even get a feel for the genetic makeup of the breed. He sensed it in Alicia even now; she could tell when a human was compatible to mate with, but she couldn't exercise her ability to reproduce. Even if she could, she would not; she would never impose this life on an innocent.\n\nAlicia's husband had gone insane with the power. He was arrogant and proud and forced his wife to join him. She had obediently complied and said goodbye to her former life. Her children were given to others to be cared for, as was her farm and all her possessions. The villagers asked why, but were left disappointed in their queries.\n\nThe pride of her husband turned out to be his downfall, as well as the idiot's that created him. Soon, Alicia was alone, unable to be with the man she loved and unable to return to the children she had left behind. She was saddened, and her heart had forced her to move away to mainland Europe; she couldn't stand the pain of watching her children from the distance created by night.\n\nJames looked to the woman's bosom and gently pulled at her blouse. Opening the top buttons revealed a small cross held by an intricate chain. Through all the cultures, Briton, Celt, Roman, or Pagan, above all of these she was a Christian, and that faith hadn't allowed her to commit suicide. This truly was a woman in hell.\n\n_Is this what Vera faces?_ he asked himself as he considered the two Christian demons— both of whom wore the sign of a savior around their neck.\n\nA tear began to roll down Alicia's cheek. James quickly stopped his search through her life and sent a soothing thought. He found one in her own mind: a happy memory of her children. She had forgotten it long ago, and only his gentle probing brought it back to her. A small smile appeared on her face as it played over and over in her mind.\n\n\"Open,\" James whispered quietly, and Alicia complied.\n\nHe looked at her teeth and then asked for her fangs. Slowly, they both extended. James could see the biology of the action as the muscles pushed from a hinged bone attached to the canines.\n\n_Amazing_ , he thought as the mechanism became clear. The analyst in him was curious, but the man in him was still fearful.\n\nHe quickly took a vial from his bag and began to milk her venom. He could see the outer groove of the teeth and enclosed canals. He even knew the names of the various attributes. Alicia, as did all those of her race, had two entrance lumens at opposite ends of each other. At the tip of her fang was a lumen which brought blood into her system. Just beside that was the venom discharge orifice. It was the discharge orifice that James now needed, and he milked both teeth carefully. He didn't get as much as he hoped, but it was a start.\n\nHe capped and sealed the tube and placed it in his bag. Before leaving, he took a long look at his unwitting volunteer. Taking a risk, he put his hand to her cheek, wiped the tear away, and spoke softly.\n\n\"Thank you, Alicia.\"\n\nHe shut the door quietly, sending her soothing thoughts the entire time. He then made his way back down the hall, out the windows, and to the awaiting cab. Thankfully, the cabbie had been trustworthy and stayed.\n\nThe taxi was quickly off, and he was on his phone just as quickly. James called into his client and cancelled his day before reaching out to other contacts. He then put a call in to the Harborview labs and asked if they could run a sample for him. Apparently, he was helping to diagnose an odd medical case and believed the victim suffered from a snake bite. The lab was to prepare to receive a sample of the venom. He was about to pull in his favors with the administration if needed, but had to hang up his phone in frustration.\n\n\"Damn,\" he said as he got off the phone with the lab technicians.\n\n\"Is something the matter, Mister?\" the cabbie asked upon hearing James curse.\n\nJames was frustrated, \"It appears that the Harborview lab is not equipped to analyze snake venom.\"\n\nThe cabbie didn't respond. He hadn't understood the reference and appeared to be afraid to ask for clarification.\n\n\"Take me to the U,\" James told the cabbie. He then grabbed his phone and began to perform an act that he found more distasteful than milking a vampire.\n\n\"Jonah, this is James. Do you have a minute?\"\n\nJonah was happy to hear from his friend and gave James a good ribbing before allowing the man to make his request; it was soon understood, if not fully comprehended. James wasn't happy to have to deal with the asinine antics of Jonah, but the man did know everyone at UW medicine and could facilitate his request.\n\nJonah was even kind enough to meet the cab when it arrived and personally directed James to the proper offices. James was too worried about Vera to decline the hospitality and allowed his friend to lead him to the correct lab.\n\n\"I noticed that you missed the last clinical appointment,\" Jonah said as they weaved through the hallways.\n\n\"Yeah, I've been busy,\" James replied sternly.\n\n\"Busy or not,\" Jonah said, \"if you can't make the appointments you'll be out of the trial, and remember, you actually need this.\"\n\nJames kept his pace up but had to consider the meaning of his genetic trial. This particular trial was only once a month, but he had to wonder if he wanted to continue with it; he wondered if he needed to continue with it. Shaking his head, he decided he had more important matters. He needed to help Vera.\n\n\"What kind of venom is this?\" the lab technician asked, staring at the tube curiously.\n\n\"I don't know. I'm not a snake expert,\" James replied.\n\n\"The term is herpetologist,\" the technician replied with a snide tone.\n\n_Oh, great. One of these_ , thought James as he considered the man before him.\n\n\"Either way, I'm diagnosing a woman who may have been poisoned by this. I need to see if you can make an anti-venom.\"\n\n\"Well, how did you get the venom if you don't know what the snake is?\" the man asked.\n\nJames was not about to play twenty questions.\n\n\"Look,\" he said. \"Can you make an anti-venom or not?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" the man replied casually, \"but it might not do her any good. It'll take weeks to make the serum.\"\n\n\"She doesn't have weeks,\" was the reply.\n\n\"Well, I don't know what I can do,\" the man said dispassionately. \"In order to make the anti-venom, we need to build up anti-bodies in another animal, then extract blood, and then concentrate the dosage. That could take a month. You would be better off finding out what kind of snake it is and get the exact serum.\"\n\n\"The only serum in the area is rattlesnake, and I know it wasn't that. I believe it will be best if we can make something from this.\"\n\n\"Well, I can try,\" the technician said without much hope. \"In the meantime, you better hope this patient recovers on her own, or at least survives until we can do something. Hey,\" he said as an idea came to him, \"why not try Woodland Park Zoo? It's just down the street, and they carry a wider array of anti-venoms.\"\n\nJames realized that if this was true, he might have better luck than waiting for this imbecile. Even if he couldn't get the serums himself, his connections could get them sent to one of his clients with a research lab, or maybe even a local hospital. From there, they would get into his hands. The lab technician gave him the name and number of the herpetologist at the park, and James left to make the call.\n\n\"I'll let you know how this guy does,\" Jonah said offhandedly. \"And there's no need to worry. I can make these guys dance if I need to.\"\n\nJames didn't share Jonah's optimism but thanked him anyway before a thought struck him and he had to ask a question.\n\n\"I just realized that this must be funded or catalogued somehow. How is that technician going to justify his work?\"\n\nJonah snorted and chuckled.\n\n\"Dude, I told you that I'm always right, and this place runs by my say so,\" Jonah said. \"Don't worry, I'll get this done for you. Just remember you'll owe me a favor.\" James looked very skeptical and Jonah just laughed. \"I keep telling you that I control the finances. We have so much grant money from the government and private sector that I can easily find a way to fit this in. Besides, I'm like a god when it comes to shuffling and justifying accounts. Sure, it all has to balance in the end, but that's my job, and I do it very well.\"\n\nJames turned to leave but left his friend with one puzzling remark.\n\n\"I would be wary of calling yourself a god,\" he said. \"I've actually met a few, and they might not take kindly to you counting yourself as their peer.\"\n\n### Chapter 16\n\nSleep came slowly to James, but it did come. He was exhausted, and even the awkward position of his living room chair offered some release from his tired state. The wide array of anti-venom had taken most of the day to acquire. This ended up being a blessing, as he had spent most of that time creating a patient, complete with corresponding paperwork to justify the expenditure. It was difficult, but solving problems is what he did, and he put his mind to solving this one. Luckily, he was able to find Vera's insurance card and used her ID for the transactions, and while he felt little remorse for her father, he did have respect for the man's medical plan; James had had no difficulty getting the insurance's approval, which facilitated the medical requests for exotic anti-venom.\n\nVera was now resting peacefully, although there was no indication that the anti-venom was helping. For all he could discern, she was recovering on her own. Arinai had provided some good news before she and Camulas left them in peace. She informed James that their patient had begun to stop thrashing around mid-day. This happy news was then subverted by the other startling observations. Vera had faded in and out of shadow, her skin had taken on an odd hue, and her hands had begun to deform. When James took a look at the hands upon his return, he could feel an odd bone growth. He had no idea what it was, but after going over research documents he came across something called dysplasia—yet another bizarre human condition that created the most usual physical appearances. James wondered about the enormity of human variances, and as he studied he become more accustomed to the oddities around him. They were not that far off from what was already scientifically documented.\n\nEventually, sleep overtook him, and he slumbered quietly in his chair as calming dreams entered his mind. A wonderful tune pulled him along, and he found himself dancing and singing as it played. It was Arinai that he dreamed of, and the two of them reveled in the song and merriment of dance. They moved across open fields, wide oceans, and finally up into a darkened sky on a warm and pleasant night. Each place brought happiness and visions of dancing sprites, humans, or faeries of some sort.\n\nAfter several hours of peaceful sleep, James was stirred from his slumber by a continuous and persistent raucous. The noise was long in duration and chaotic in detail. Banging, grunting, slamming of doors, and rattling of metal assaulted his ears. James was too tired to be aroused immediately, and it took several minutes for him to regain consciousness. When he did, he could hear the noises coming from his kitchen.\n\nStanding slowly, he shook his head clear and held out his hand to the chair arm in order to prevent himself from falling back down; he was mostly successful. The noise from the kitchen continued, and he made his way to the wall to turn on the light, only realizing as he did so that night had fallen again.\n\nVera looked up at him instantly and considered him for a moment. She was sitting on the floor with her back resting on the island, food spread out before her. She seemed normal in appearance. There was no discoloration of her skin or odd phasing in and out of darkness. When James blinked to see her other form, it was still there, translucent and violet within her human body. He let the vision fade and she once again appeared normal.\n\nFrom the carnage on the floor, James could see that she had been eating for quite some time. Vera, done with her examination of him, turned back to the raw meat in her hand and tore off a large chunk; the strength of her jaw must have increased for her to perform that feat so easily.\n\nJames sat down against the opposite cabinets and stared at her. Her face was a mess, as was her hair. Other than that, she looked fine; even her hands appeared normal. However, something seemed off, and it took a moment for him to place it. When he did, he could only stare. Her face had changed slightly. She appeared older to him, and he could only think that the traumatic events of the past few days had matured her.\n\n\"Vera, are you okay?\" he asked.\n\nShe didn't acknowledge his question, continuing to eat heartily. He moved slowly to her and attempted to brush her hair back. She reacted by grabbing his hand and pinning it to the island wall. The movement was fast—faster than James could perceive.\n\n\"Leave me alone,\" she said sternly.\n\nThey stared at each other, and he could see hatred in her eyes. She was angry, confused, and in mourning. James was at a loss for what to do.\n\n\"You coward!\" she said, ending their staring contest as she let him go and returned to her meat. James knew what she meant, although he didn't agree with her sentiment.\n\nHe stood slowly and watched her eat.\n\n\"I'm an analyst, not a fighter,\" he said. \"I wasn't afraid to help your family. I just didn't know how. My mind doesn't work that way. All I could think about was trying to help you and protect you.\"\n\n\"You should have protected my sister,\" she said as she tore another piece of meat. She didn't even bother to look at him.\n\n\"I didn't know how,\" he replied weakly. He thought about adding more, but after considering the options, all he could do was ask a question.\n\n\"Is Badir still in your mind?\" he asked. \"Do you still sense him?\"\n\n\"I hate him,\" she spat, \"and he's laughing at me. Our minds cross paths, like catching the glimpse of someone you know in a crowd, and when he senses me, he laughs.\"\n\nVera grabbed several items from the floor. She took the meat, the potato chips, the bread, and other items. These were all gathered into her arms while she stood. She headed towards the bedroom making it obvious that she didn't want to be followed. Before entering the hallway, she paused without turning to face him.\n\n\"I hate you, too,\" she said quietly.\n\nAfter disappearing from sight, James turned his gaze to the floor.\n\n\"You have every right to,\" he whispered, mentally torturing himself over the pain he was inflicting on her.\n\n### Chapter 17\n\nWind whipped the long tails of Camulas' coat as he stood on the street corner. It was still evening and the weather was inclement, and as the rain fell, he pulled up the collar of his coat to offer a modicum of protection. Surveying the scene before him, Camulas made mental notes. There were several creatures milling about just outside the range of human perception. Those demons who were close enough in appearance to human form avoided intense scrutiny and mingled with the passersby's and even each other. It was an odd truce, and Camulas couldn't recall a time in their history when he had seen such a peculiar turn of events.\n\nHe closed his eyes and listened for the music he knew would be there. It took him a moment; he had habitually blocked it as he had learned to do. His mind finally found its soft harmonies and slow cadence. Careful not to fall into the lulled stupor the music enticed, he took the time to follow its lilting course. It reminded him of a gentle stream, flowing through a grassland valley. He could almost feel warm sun and hear water gurgling as it made its way around a stone that happened to cut a path through the water.\n\nSnapping his eyes open, Camulas cast his gaze about. The other demons weren't so well trained against Arinai, and the music had lulled them just as she intended it to. These beasts weren't in a deep stupor or in any way harmed. Instead, they were calm and docile. Camulas could well believe that the peaceful music aided this uneasy truce, but he had no illusions regarding the situation. This truce was needed because these demons would not leave the site, and open battle would be counterproductive to their desires; they all knew something powerful was in the vicinity, they just didn't know what it was.\n\nA crow landed on a light pole near Camulas, and its caw caught his attention. He turned at the sound and stared at the bird before him.\n\n_Oh, damn_ , he thought to himself.\n\nHis hand immediately warmed as his mind called out for the handle of his blade. His fingertips felt the ethereal hilt's presence; it was a comforting feeling.\n\nCamulas refrained from moving, and for a moment he was unsure of what to do. He stared at the black bird before him, resisting the act of casting out his thoughts and feeling for its soul—if the beast were dangerous, he saw no reason to alert the thing to his presence by probing it.\n\n_Damn,_ he thought again as he considered the possibility that the bird might already know of his proximity. But he couldn't be certain of that fact and managed to keep his emotions in check; he also stopped his hand from moving and drawing his weapon. The crow cawed again, and soon a second crow joined it, and then a third. Camulas wasn't pleased. If the Oracle had somehow called these black beasts to him, then the situation might rapidly worsen.\n\nFor a moment, he pitied Vera. Death, pain, deceit, and much more is what these birds brought. If they were here, they might well be the harbinger of the young woman's demise. These blackened souls held a place of fear and respect amongst the ancient legends, and those attributes were rightly earned.\n\nTaking a closer look while maintaining his distance, Camulas cursed under his breath as he realized the last bird that had perched was a raven rather than a crow. Keeping his eyes on target, he shook his head and gritted his teeth. Considering his options took only a moment before he decided on a tactical retreat.\n\nKeeping his eyes on the birds before him, he began to move farther down the street, sidestepping as he did. The birds didn't notice his movement, or if they did they didn't seem to care. Taking his eyes off of the possible threat, he reacquainted himself with the other demons that shared the area. They hadn't moved, and he was thankful for that. The thought had occurred to him that the raven and crows were creating a diversion, but his suspicion turned out to be unfounded. Each beast was right where he had left them.\n\nThe further thought occurred that he could easily kill these curious beasts, all except the birds. The mild stupor of the demons would make the murderous act simple. They would suspect nothing as he conjured his blade, whether it was a broadsword, dagger, or any other edged weapon he desired. He could call it forth as he passed each beast and a demon would fall, destroyed by the swift use of his weapon. However, Arinai would not be pleased, and he found that he still cared enough for her to value her opinion. Besides, her current plan of _Wait and See_ , was working well. They had found the Oracle, he was growing in strength, and he appeared to be willing to accept his role. Camulas wasn't certain he liked the man—James was too weak of spirit—but Camulas didn't hate him.\n\nCamulas pulled a cell phone from a deep pocket and moved his fingers swiftly along the smooth surface. Soon, the other end began to ring, and he had to smirk when he heard the corresponding ring tone. It was an ancient Norse wedding song; he hadn't heard it in a thousand years.\n\nThere was a discernible click on one end and the music stopped.\n\n\"Do you see them?\"\n\nThere was no reply.\n\n\"On the southeast side of the street. Two crows and a raven perched on a pole.\"\n\n\"Damn,\" Arinai replied. \"I had forgotten about that fact; for as much as Seattle has to offer, they also have an abundance of those black birds.\"\n\n\"Is she dead?\" Camulas asked plainly. There was no reply, and Camulas asked his question again, in a louder more demanding tone.\n\n\"I saw Merlin kill her,\" Arinai answered carefully. \"She is dead.\"\n\nCamulas could feel Arinai's hesitation. He had no doubt that Arinai had seen the Morrigan killed. However, he suspected that Arinai doubted whether the witch would remain that way.\n\n\"They may just be crows. Seattle is full of them,\" Arinai said.\n\n\"But not ravens,\" Camulas replied.\n\nCamulas knew Arinai might be correct, but he wanted to know for certain. If the raven presented a threat, he needed to know; these demons could be dangerous, no matter what tenuous truce was currently in effect.\n\n\"They may be regular birds,\" he said to her when she remained quiet, \"but let's find out.\"\n\n\"Camulas, no!\"\n\nHe heard Arinai call out the warning, but he was already cancelling the call. Picking his attack point, Camulas moved carefully and approached the birds from their blind side. He and Arinai may not be able to sense a possible demon within those black feathered bodies, but he believed he could flush one out.\n\nThe birds were well situated, but he chose his spot with tactical skill. His back was to a wall, and his exits were clear to him. He noticed the skyline, the wind, and the direction that the streets flowed. He also recalled this area in his mind. With the discovery of James as the suspected Oracle, this part of the city had been Camulas' most surveyed.\n\nA quick flick of his mind in an attempt to feel for the demons' souls revealed nothing to him. Either these were just birds or they were too well shielded against him. One thought gave him hope, the other dread; any raven strong enough to shield herself from him was certain to be powerful.\n\nHe took a fighting stance and called for his blade. It would be invisible tonight—he didn't need the humans seeing it. It would also be light and slender for quickness of motion; he needed speed, not power. As his hand drew it from the realm that held it, the hum of its power permeated the opening between this world and another. It was a small opening but effective for the swords retrieval, and the hum wasn't noticeable, at least not to most demons.\n\nTwo of the birds took to the air and sped off into the night. They were quickly lost, even to Camulas' keen eyes. The third one remained: the raven remained.\n\nIt didn't take flight, nor did it move. For a moment, neither did Camulas. When he decided to continue his course of action, the blade could be heard inching outward, the ethereal hum notching higher in pitch. The remaining bird turned its head sideways and brought the warrior into its visual range. A single eye stared at him, and Camulas could see his own reflection in the dark orb. When one side of the bird's beak turned upward into a wicked smile, he knew it was a demoness. That smile wasn't something any raven should be able to do.\n\nThe warrior arrested his movements, nodded his head in acknowledgement of the bird, and returned the blade to the safety of its ethereal sheath. He didn't know who this witch was, but she didn't fear him, and that gave him great pause.\n\nThe black bird cawed again and then turned its head back to the building before it. This time, it made no pretense about what it was watching. It looked once more at Camulas, gave an odd wink, then took to the air. It began to circle the area, climbing higher and higher. Camulas knew it would eventually reach James' floor, and he watched it as it did. More than one pass was made by the avian, but with no place to land, the bird eventually perched on a building across the street. From there, it continued it surveillance.\n\nIt was a worried and vigilant Camulas that Arinai discovered when she made her way down the street and to his position. She followed his gaze and soon saw the bird that had his attention. She attempted to soothe it with music. The attempt was as unsuccessful as she knew it would be. The bird didn't even flinch at her attempt, a fact that she found annoying.\n\n\"It could have at least acknowledged my power,\" she told Camulas.\n\n\"The other two are gone. They took off into the night.\"\n\n\"Probably just regular crows,\" she said, more with hope than actual belief in her statement.\n\nCamulas growled as he considered the situation. Arinai calmed him by putting a hand to his arm and offering encouragement.\n\n\"I believe I have found a useful test for our oracle,\" Arinai said. \"If you'll wait here, I'll see just how powerful he has become.\"\n\n\"If he can't pierce your persona, what makes you think he can pierce hers?\" Camulas asked.\n\nArinai smiled as she stepped away and called back to her friend.\n\n\"You forget,\" she said with arrogance, \"we've been specifically trained to block him.\"\n\n\"We may not be the only ones,\" he yelled back in response. Camulas was both amused and worried by the slight hitch in her step. She obviously hadn't considered that fact.\n\nArinai entered the building, ushered in kindly by the lobby attendant, who was then gracious enough to use his own card to grant her access to the elevators. She got off on James' floor and knocked on his door. It took several tries but he eventually opened for her. He was very tired and slightly disheveled. Nodding his head and without saying a word, he stepped aside and allowed her access. She thanked him, and made her way to the living room. The mess in the kitchen was unexpected.\n\n\"Vera?\" she asked.\n\nJames nodded.\n\n\"How is she?\"\n\n\"She's resting. I checked on her a few minutes ago. I think she'll be ok. I just wish I could help her more.\"\n\n\"May I see her?\"\n\nJames nodded his head and, being too tired to participate, went back to his chair. When Arinai found her, Vera was indeed resting. The girl's breathing was labored, but all the other signs were good, including her appetite. It was obvious that she had eaten a great deal; the amount of garbage around the bed revealed that fact.\n\n_She must have been famished_ , thought Arinai.\n\nThe goddess checked the extremities and was pleased to find everything in order. It was upon examining the wrists that she found something odd. Arinai paused to examine the ligaments.\n\n_Oh, I know this_ , she thought to herself as she grew apprehensive.\n\nShe had encountered it before, although not in this exact form. Arinai felt along the wrist and arm, pressing at points along the way. She eventually found what she feared, and as she stimulated the area, Vera's hands began to deform. Bone could be felt to distend and the skin changed hue and texture. Arinai quickly let go; she didn't wish to wake this sleeping creature. She then took a few moments to verify another suspicion. It didn't take long; the feet shared the same deformation as the arms.\n\nBacking away, she watched Vera sleep. The loud labored breathing told her that this was a beast that needed its rest. Whatever Vera was becoming, she wasn't done becoming it.\n\n\"And the torch passes,\" Arinai whispered, recalling her own past—recalling her own birth.\n\nShe had feared this might happen. The rise of this age might well be similar in form to the rise of the last. And that rise had left little room for the ancients of the prior ages. Vera was something new, and the new often replaced the old—a fact that could well mean the extinction of all of them. All except James and Vera who were the children of this new age.\n\nArinai left the room, making sure to close the door for privacy. She did not need Vera learning anything that might make it back to Badir. When she returned to James, she found him in his chair—he had fallen back asleep—and much like the previous day, it was very early or very late depending on how one looked at it. She woke him, and he arose slowly. He smiled at her, and she found that she enjoyed producing that smile.\n\n\"Coffee,\" he said in a hoarse voice.\n\nShe returned his smile before taking the time to learn his kitchen well enough to brew the drink. While she did, he rubbed his eyes and made his way to a stool at the island.\n\n\"This place is a mess,\" she commented.\n\n\"I know,\" he said, \"just step around it or kick it to the side. I'll clean it later. So, what brings you here at this ungodly hour, anyway?\"\n\nArinai raised her eyebrows at the phrase, _ungodly hour._ She laughed when she saw his smirk. He had an odd sense of humor, and as she smiled and chuckled to herself, she decided that she liked it.\n\n\"There was a raven outside. I was hoping that you could probe it for me.\"\n\n\"A raven?\" he asked, tiredly.\n\n\"Yes, a raven. It was outside with companion crows. Those have since gone, but I think the raven is still here. You may be able to see it from your window—if it hasn't left.\"\n\nJames looked at her with very tired eyes and a face that expressed disbelief. Arinai found a coffee cup and waited for the pot to brew so that she could fill it.\n\n\"Oracle,\" Arinai said as she stared at the coffee pot. \"The ravens of our lore are very powerful. The Morrigan was a three souled entity hidden within the dark magic of that bird. She rained cruelty upon our people for a very long time. And she wasn't the only one. The raven form is a very powerful demon, varied in its cruelty as well as its powers. The only consistent trait is that they always represent women. However, for all of that variety, neither Camulas nor I have much effect on them. Camulas might be able to defeat one with his sword, but their ability to change shape and wield magic makes that very difficult, and it's not a battle he would relish to engage in. I could go on, but suffice it to say, there is one of these demons outside of your building.\"\n\nArinai pulled the pot, filled the cup, and offered the coffee to James, reaching across the island as she did.\n\n\"Got it,\" he said as he took the cup. \"Bad bird.\"\n\nJames shrugged his shoulders and figured, _why the hell not_. Taking his coffee with him, as every aspiring oracle should, he made his way to the window and looked out. He couldn't see a crow; it was still dark and a few hours until sunrise.\n\n\"I don't believe in magic either,\" he said loudly as he added another item to the list of things he didn't believe in. Arinai didn't disappoint him in her response.\n\n\"Neither do I.\"\n\nJames chuckled to himself, took a sip of coffee and turned his attention back to the city and the bad bird he was meant to locate. Rather than physically searching, he set about feeling for the demon. To his amazement, he felt several.\n\n\"Oh, wow!\" he whispered as he felt the beings whose presence were becoming easy for him to find.\n\nThere was a Dearg, a succubus, and even a lycan. To those ranks he could now add a banshee, a sidhe, and a hell hound; the large dog was masquerading as a Saint Bernard, and even sported a City of Seattle dog tag.\n\n_Oh, very clever,_ thought James as his mind envisioned the dog in the alley across the street.\n\nThe raven was found perched on the opposite building. When he felt it, he knew he had been detected in return; the raven's conscience turned to him. It was powerful, perhaps as powerful as Arinai and Camulas, but for some reason he could see into its mind—a feat he had yet to perform on Arinai.\n\nAt first it was murky, but as he concentrated, he could discern images, and then sounds could be heard. The raven fought his intrusion, but he pressed on. It was a battle of wills, one the raven was more experienced with, but one that James, for some reason, was winning.\n\nHe pushed and the demon pushed back, much like a child against its parent. The fight was useless and James knew it; he could sense that the raven knew it as well. While she was powerful, his was an attack that she was unaccustomed to.\n\nThe fight changed suddenly when the floodgates of the raven's mind opened, and James' thoughts rushed inward. He was momentarily stunned by the action. It was as if he had been pushing against a door only to have it open rapidly. However, now that he was through it, he found that he was trapped.\n\nHis mind was wrapped in feelings and memories and passions that weren't his own, and a singular foreign thought entered his mind. _Hello, lover,_ the beast said with an odd sense of mischievousness. This thing was welcoming him with glee, and James feared that wickedness.\n\nHe could feel the power of the demon and even understood her play. She knew she couldn't resist him forever and therefore had allowed him in. Now that he was in her mind, she held him tightly, showing him what she wanted him to see. He saw people burned at the stake, children murdered, battles of magic, dark caverns filled with bones, and many other cruel images. The smells hit him next, and his mind recoiled as he sensed the stench of sewered alleys, burning flesh, and the rot of the dead. The raven reveled in it. James felt like he would vomit.\n\nIt took a moment, but James was able to extricate his mind, ripping himself from the bird's chaotic emotions. When he did, he found that his hand was to the window, his coffee was on the ground, and Arinai was at his side.\n\n\"What happened? Did you see her? Do you know who she is?\"\n\n\"That thing is evil,\" he said as he caught his breath. \"It doesn't know who I am, but it now knows some of my power. I could feel that it wants to kill me or control me. Power is all it craves, and inflicting pain gives it pleasure.\"\n\n\"A name, did you get its name?\" Arinai asked earnestly.\n\nShe was practically pleading and James could sense it. He stood more to attention and thought for a moment, trying to recall the images without adding emotional strife; he needed a disconnect from the horrors he had seen.\n\n\"Deboin,\" he said, \"her name is Deboin.\"\n\nArinai sighed in relief.\n\n\"It's not the Morrigan,\" she said, apparently happy with that fact.\n\nArinai then begged for all of the details, and James was happy to comply. They fetched more coffee, and he told her everything that he could remember. Arinai wasn't amused. Whoever this Deboin was, she was powerful.\n\nWhen he was finished with his tale of the raven, James brought Arinai up to speed with the developments of Vera. The goddess listened, and then comforted her oracle.\n\n\"James,\" she said, using his first name very purposely. \"She doesn't hate you. She is angry and upset. She is also in mourning. I can sense that in her. She lost her family, and her world is changing. To be honest, I'm amazed that she isn't going insane. For someone so young, she is surprisingly strong.\"\n\nJames straightened up slightly at the comment about Vera's age.\n\n\"Do you think she is too young for me?\" he asked absentmindedly.\n\nArinai replied by inquiring why he asked. James then told her of the conversation he had had with Vera's father. He had originally omitted that part of the evening from his account of Badir's attack; it hadn't been relevant at the time. Arinai nodded in understanding and smiled slightly.\n\n\"James, when I was younger than her I had already killed a man. He was a Roman Centurion that Camulas allowed to live long enough so that I could take his head.\"\n\nJames appeared shocked.\n\n\"Don't be so alarmed,\" she said.\"The Roman legions were all men, but the lands they invaded had many female warriors. While I wasn't a warrior per se, I wasn't adverse to the task. I had been raised on the stories of Boudicca, as had all our people. She was a warrior princess from Briton, the land across the water, and the Roman legions rued the day they flogged her and raped her daughters. She led armies against their legions and fought against many Romans, leading them to their deaths. She died long before I was born, but she serves the point. The Keltoi women are warriors, and in the heat of battle, I took a man's head, and that night Camulas took my virginity. A day of battle and a night of sex led to a very sore body the next morning.\"\n\nJames listened to her tale as he had before: in fascination. He had forgotten the original topic, but Arinai reminded him.\n\n\"Vera will come around,\" she said. \"She is hurt, and the best thing you can do is to just be there for her. And no, I don't think she is too young for you. She is a willing woman, and that's all you need to know.\"\n\nJames was doubtful with regard to Vera's anger and couldn't respond, although he did appreciate the comfort.\n\n\"Hey,\" Arinai said as she moved to him. \"It will be okay,\" she said reassuringly.\n\nJames smiled weakly, then took Arinai carefully in his arms. He hugged her and thanked her for her kind words. She smiled, hugged him back, and told him that he was welcome. He kissed her head softly, grateful that he had support at this troubling time.\n\n\"Traitor!\" came a loud call as the lights flickered before burning brightly and then going dark.\n\n\"Liar!\" came another accusation, and James felt himself thrown away from Arinai. He hit the window and bounced back to the floor.\n\n\"Coward!\"\n\nThis time he felt himself picked up and thrown across the room. He couldn't see his attacker, but there was no doubt it was Vera. Arinai tried to reach James, but a powerful motion threw her over the island and into the refrigerator. She hit it hard and landed awkwardly.\n\nWhen he tried to regain his footing, James felt his throat tighten as a strong grip took hold and began to lift him. It wasn't a human hand; he could feel the leathery skin as he fought for air and attempted to pull himself free.\n\nA cacophony of noise erupted in his ears, causing immediate pain, and he found himself ignoring the grip on his throat as he put his hands to his ears. He wasn't the only one who had to protect against the auditory onslaught. Vera released her grip, and James fell to the ground. He kept his hands to his head, but the noise pierced his skull. James cried out at the dissonant sounds as if they could be reasoned with. He had never experienced such pain. Apparently neither had Vera. She could be seen fading in and out of visual range, but remaining mostly in shadow form; she could now be located, just not seen clearly.\n\nA loud thump could be heard as she threw herself at the glass outer wall of the apartment. It held. Again she tried, and again it held. A frustrated and piercing shriek cut thru the room, and both sounds vied for dominance. James cried out in pain as both tones pierced his mind.\n\nHe looked toward the kitchen. In the darkness, he could see Arinai's form. She was standing and holding her own. She didn't move. She simply stared in the direction of the anguishing figure of Vera. James was in pain and yelled for it to stop. It didn't, but it did change. The dissonance calmed and became more peaceful, and with the peace, James began to relax. He hadn't realized how hard he was breathing, but now, as the sounds dissipated and became serene, he calmed and his breath slowed. Vera wasn't so easily swayed. She let out another shriek. It hit his ears as hard as the raucous music had, and he was once again in pain.\n\nA shadowy form moved swiftly across the room and Arinai was physically hit by something. Once again, she bounced against the kitchen appliances. Before she could regain her footing and continue her musical attack, the front door flung open, ripping it halfway off its hinges. A figure could be heard at the building's emergency stairwell, then racing down the metal stairs. In the matter of a few seconds, the apartment was eerily silent.\n\nJames stood slowly. Arinai was soon at his side and helped him get to a chair. After a moment, James tried to stand, but Arinai didn't allow it.\n\n\"I have to go after her,\" he said.\n\n\"I wouldn't suggest it.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm going anyway.\"\n\n\"No!\" Arinai cried. \"You can't help her. She is angry and feels betrayed. This was all a misunderstanding, but she won't see it that way, at least not yet. You'll need to wait until she calms down. Going after her now will only make matters worse. We must let her go and pray that she doesn't harm herself or others. Humans don't take kindly to our species' wanton acts of destruction.\"\n\nJames knew that Arinai was right, and even if he could muster the strength, he should wait until later.\n\n\"Can you feel her?\" Arinai asked. \"Is she safe?\"\n\nJames calmed and reached out to Vera. She was hard to find—she seemed to have a natural immunity to him—but while she was difficult to locate, this difficulty was varied from what he experienced with Arinai. With her, he felt active resistance; with Vera, it was just challenging to feel her presence at all. He did eventually find her, and he smiled when he did. She was angry but safe. When he realized where she was, he gasped.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"She's fine, but she's at 8th and Pine.\"\n\n\"Is that bad?\" Arinai asked.\n\n\"Arinai, 8th and Pine is 6 blocks from here. I can also feel her at height. She's on top of a building somewhere,\" he said, giving Arinai a look of disbelief. \"She has been gone less than a minute. How in the hell did she get that far that fast?\"\n\n\"Many of our species move at great speed. It's not uncommon.\"\n\nJames still couldn't read Arinai's mind, but he could discern information from her human attributes, and he sensed that she was lying. Or at the very least, she was not telling him the whole truth. Arinai smiled and held to her statement. She hadn't lied. Many of their species could move rapidly. However, very few could move that rapidly, and James sensed the truth from her.\n\nHe let the matter drop and began to clean up. He moved the light switches up and down and the room soon illuminated again. Arinai could only stand motionless and consider recent events.\n\n\"Oracle, I may have to retract my earlier statement,\" she said as she pondered the facts. James stopped cleaning as he turned to her.\n\n\"Oh?\" he asked.\n\nArinai nodded her head solemnly before speaking.\n\n\"Vera may indeed hate you.\"\n\n### Chapter 18\n\nThe next few days passed swiftly for James. He spent a lot of time feeling for Vera with his senses while refraining from physically searching for her. His mind told him she was safe—Camulas had tasked himself with keeping tabs on her—and Arinai told him to wait. That combination kept him momentarily inactive but slightly restless.\n\nHe attempted to catch up on his work, a very daunting task that kept him busy coordinating clients and solutions. Thankfully, he was assisted in his efforts by an increased ability to perform his duties. His clients even noticed the proficiency and commented on it—one even paid a bonus when he moved up their R&D time table by six months.\n\nThoughts of visiting Vera plagued him, but these thoughts were banished as he faced his heavy workload. It was tiring, but at least he was able to get some sleep at night.\n\nThe beasts outside his apartment remained. Each day saw a few more arrive, and each day he was forced to leave his place and ask to be ignored. This tactic seemed to work, and he wasn't followed as he left. However, try as he might, he wasn't able to get them to leave the area. James mood wasn't helped when Arinai told him that he may never have that skill.\n\n\"The Oracle is a position of knowledge, not power or will, and you'll be limited in what you can do,\" she had told him.\n\nJames resigned himself to that fact and was grateful that he could at least hide his presence in some situations. He hadn't asked for this personal hell, nor did he believe he deserved it; he just hoped that he would eventually be able to extricate himself from it.\n\nThe third day after Vera had stormed off from his apartment he found himself contemplating his actions as he sat in a small deli not too far from the waterfront. He had finished what projects he could and refused to take on any more work, deciding it was best to concentrate on his personal problems rather than corporate ones.\n\nHe thought about Vera and reached out for her with his mind. She was still difficult for him to locate, and the only thing he could get from her was that she was very sad, but safe, somewhere to the east and near the shores of Lake Washington. James assumed that she was home in Madison Park, and relayed that information to Camulas via a text. He was pleased when Camulas replied that Vera was indeed safe and being watched by a trusted ally.\n\nJames frowned and reached outward to see if he could detect this mysterious ally. When his mind found an inconspicuous dog in the vicinity of Vera, he had to smile. The hellhound appeared to be loyal to Camulas, even to the point of vacating its position outside his apartment in order to guard its new ward.\n\n_Thank you, Camulas_ , James thought.\n\n\"May I sit here? The other tables are full.\"\n\nJames came back to the present and looked at his new companion. She was holding a tray of food and appeared anxious to set it down.\n\nJames was stunned by her appearance. She wore a fine black evening dress accentuated with tasteful jewelry, and her hair, nails, and makeup were perfect. It was a very odd vision considering the other people in the establishment were in business attire or tourist clothing. Most people appeared dressed for work or travel—this woman looked as if she was about to attend the opera.\n\n\"Ah, yes sure. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.\"\n\nThe woman sat down and James went back to his thoughts of Vera. He felt shame, guilt, and concern for her. He decided that he would visit her later that night. Hopefully, she would see him.\n\nAs his mind left Vera's presence, he felt outward across the city. His apartment building was still the center of attention, but he could feel several other beings throughout the surrounding hills. The Ballard locks drew his attention, and he sensed something very odd. A beast was making its way from the Puget Sound, moving through the locks and into Lake Union. He felt for its mind and came across instinct and hunger—it was a primal entity. Unable to get more information, James left the beast alone and moved on to the other entities.\n\nHe felt for and found Arinai. She was out walking the city with Camulas, learning what they could about the area: its strongholds, its weak points, and other strategic positions. James was pleased that he could locate his new friends so easily; it was a skill he had only recently acquired with regard to the ancients. After a few more minutes of monitoring them, he returned his attention to his food and took a bite of a sandwich.\n\nIt was then that he noticed his companion hadn't eaten any of her food. In fact, she was doing nothing but staring at him. He stared back. It was very odd, and when the realization struck him that she wasn't human, he cast out his mind and felt for her presence. He couldn't feel anything and concluded that she must be normal. He almost laughed at that thought. What was normal nowadays?\n\nThey stared at each other for another moment and James felt very awkward. He thought about saying something, but the silence had gone on too long and now he feared breaking that silence. He tried to think of something to say, but his mind betrayed him by going blank.\n\nThe woman leaned in slightly and smiled oddly as her eyes flashed with interest.\n\n\"My, you're a very handsome man, aren't you?\"\n\nThe words were tinged with a playful hunger, and James wasn't sure what to say but decided to return the compliment. This woman was indeed very beautiful, from her black dress to her black hair and even her eyes were as black as...\n\n_A raven's_.\n\nThe words intruded into his mind, but he had no idea where they had come from. He thought it might be the woman before him, but that didn't sit right. Something else had spoken to him, and he was reminded of the voices heard by schizophrenics. There was some part of his brain that was beginning to provide a narrative to his life, and he didn't like it.\n\nHis realization of the woman's identity was tinged with doubt. He couldn't feel her presence, not like he could the others. Trying again, he still felt nothing. Deciding on another tactic, he attempted to blink and see a demon side.\n\nThe woman before him changed slightly, and he had his confirmation as well as a bigger problem. She was even more beautiful to his new eyes. The dress appeared to move and change; it was as if the garment was part of her being, and James could see that it was made of feathers, but feathers so fine and smooth that they shone as if they were fine and supple leather.\n\nHer hair and eyes also became more enchanting, darker than the night and adding a sultry component to the woman. She smiled wickedly as he scrutinized her.\n\n\"Hello, Lover,\" she said gleefully.\n\nJames decided not to speak. He had made a mistake the first time he had been in this type of situation, and that mistake with Drake and his ilk would not be repeated.\n\n\"Oh,\" she cooed, \"does the cat have your tongue? That's too bad, because I can think of so many things you can do with that tongue of yours.\" Her eyes brightened and she appeared genuinely turned on.\"You know, that was very naughty of you the other night. You invaded my mind and made me remember things long forgotten. I have never experienced something like that. It was almost like...\" she pondered for a moment as she considered what word to use. Her eyes widened as one finally came to her, \"...Rape,\" she finished gleefully.\n\nShe leaned in to him, smiled wickedly, and in a sultry voice commanded him.\n\n\"Do it again!\" she said.\n\nIt was now James' turn to become wide-eyed. He could see that she was serious. However, he had no intention of attempting to enter that maelstrom of a mind again. He cast out a thought to be ignored and for a moment he thought it would work. The raven became confused and lost her train of thought. She looked around and attempted to gain her bearings. It was then that her presence hit him full force. He could feel her and even see images of her life.\n\n_She was somehow blocking me_ , he thought as he realized why he had been unable to feel the woman.\n\nHe had to conclude that her block was a very conscious effort and his command to be ignored had somehow affected that block. Once she had ignored him, her defenses had come down.\n\nUnfortunately, the woman's confusion didn't last long. Her block came back into effect and she returned her gaze to him. He tried to get her to ignore him again but failed. The woman only smiled at him.\n\n\"That was very naughty,\" she said as her eyes continued to dance with a perverted joy. \"Tell me, James,\" she said, pausing in mid sentence for effect. \"Yes, I know your name,\" she stated in response to his look of surprise before continuing. \"Do you intend to always be this naughty? If so, I can think of much better methods and much more entertaining forms of cruelty that you can perform on me.\"\n\n\"What is it you want, Deboin?\"\n\n\"Oh, he speaks, and he knows my name,\" she said, becoming more excited. \"This will be interesting.\"\n\nShe leaned back in her chair, smiling insanely as her eyes sparkled. \"You're so new, and I have never seen anything like you. I find you interesting. No one has been able to rape me like you did.\"\n\nJames repeated his question. He didn't want to extend this conversation unduly, but short of invading her mind, and he was loathe to do that, he could see no way of learning her motives other than asking.\n\nDeboin leaned in while turning her head from side to side. She appeared almost like a raven, examining a piece of food on the ground.\n\n\"The rape was interesting,\" she said. \"Do it again!\"\n\nJames looked at those excited eyes. He had witnessed more than one woman who hungered for sex, but while this act was close in appearance, it was also very different.\n\nHe tried to leave, but as he moved the cafe darkened. The ceiling edges blackened as if with oil and the viscous fluid spread across the area roofline, towards the far corner of the cafe. James watched in silence as it reached the edge and slithered its way down the wall to the floor. He thought about running but realized it wasn't heading for him. It was making its way to a small baby cradle that was sitting on the floor next to its mother. The opaque oil wrapped around the cradle, and the lack of reaction by anyone else in the area informed him that he was the only one who could see it. A moment later the baby stopped breathing, smothered by darkness.\n\n\"Stop this!\" he said.\n\nShe leaned in and seethed through her teeth.\n\n\"Do it again!\" she commanded.\n\nJames thought quickly. The mother hadn't noticed that her child was in trouble and she may not—not until she left and saw that her baby was dead. Frantic, James thought about what to do. He quickly decided to surrender.\n\n\"Alright, open your mind to me,\" he commanded of her, angry at being pushed into this position.\n\n\"Uh uh,\" she said, grinning and shaking her head. \"Rape me!\"\n\nJames was getting angrier, and the baby was still not breathing. The only thing he could think to do was attack, but he had never used this talent for attack.\n\nHe focused on the woman before him. His eyes widened, and without blinking he saw her true form. Ignoring the beauty of the flesh, he concentrated on how much he hated her. He stared at her eyes, which were now fully black. Not a single part of the sclera was visible, and it was those eyes that gave him his opening.\n\nHe pierced them and found that her resistance crumbled. He had a mental feeling of breaking through a concrete wall. Deboin had used all of her strength to keep him out and he cast her aside as if she were a 90 pound weakling. He delved into her mind and she audibly gasped as he forced himself into her.\n\nHer hands grabbed the edge of the table and held firm. James tried to command her to release the baby, but she didn't obey. He didn't have the kind of power, but as he moved about her mind she followed. It didn't take long before she lost concentration of external events. The viscous material covering the baby moved away and dissipated, but James knew that the baby still didn't breathe.\n\nJames concentrated on his actions. The images he witnessed were horrid, and he had to fight his physical disgust of them. Deboin now had her eyes closed, and a wicked smile, a firm grip, and rapid breathing told him that she was enjoying herself.\n\n_Take the child_ , his narrator said into his mind. James didn't wonder where the advice came from. He simply heeded it.\n\nHe stood from the table and almost fell back down. It was difficult to concentrate on what he was doing both mentally and physically. He tried again. This time more slowly and found it possible to stand and even maintain his attack on the raven. He walked over to the mother who was still oblivious to her child's predicament.\n\n\"Excuse me, Ma'am,\" he said, putting urgency into his voice. \"I don't mean to intrude but I noticed that your child appears to be in distress. May I take a look?\"\n\nThe mother took a second to comprehend what he was saying. She glanced at him warily, but turning to her child, she quickly examined him.\n\n\"Oh my, God! He's not breathing!\" she screamed.\n\n\"Let me,\" James said as he took a quick look.\n\nThe entire cafe was now at attention and James' mind coalesced in the moment. He barked out commands. It didn't take long before someone grabbed the mother and pulled her away. She was screaming for help and wasn't fit to be near them. A nearby nurse was at his side, and she took a second to examine the child.\n\n\"His heart is stopped,\" she said. \"Let's get him clear and perform CPR.\"\n\nThey moved the baby out of the cradle, and James spied Deboin through the crowd of onlookers as they did so. She was just as he left her; gleefully enjoying his penetration of her. His mind continued to feel hers and for a second, he lost his newly acquired objectivity. He could smell burning flesh and hear children screaming. Deboin's back arched slightly, her hands tightened, and her knuckles became white.\n\n_My god, that thing's having an orgasm_ , he thought.\n\nThe baby was cleared and they were careful with the neck and head. The child was much too fragile to risk moving to any serious degree. Two quick breathes followed by two finger compressions to the chest produced a response, and the child began to breathe.\n\nThe nurse performed a few more checks and then handed the child to the mother, telling her to follow her to the hospital. The mother continued to cry and examine her baby, all the while thanking the nurse and even James. She was in tears and emotionally distraught. The nurse put her arms around the woman and worked to guide her out of the deli.\n\nAs he stood, James realized that the raven's mind had faded from his. He could still feel her presence, but there was no resistance. Also gone was the intense passion of her experiences. He could now make out details of the creature without being forced to share the emotions that it felt. James turned to his table and noticed that the demoness was gone.\n\nSwitching from her memories, he realized that he could see through her eyes. She wasn't far, just a few feet down the block and making her way across the street. She didn't sense him—not now, anyway—and James became slightly confused. Just moments before, Deboin could feel every aspect of his intrusion. She now seemed oblivious to him. He decided he didn't care what the reason was and pulled out of her mind.\n\nThe mother of the child was still crying hysterically and thanking everyone profusely as the nurse tried to get her to leave. The mother gave James a large hug, and had to be consoled more so than her child, who had cried upon breathing once again but was now quieting down to a silent state.\n\nJames took a deep breath and shook his head as he attempted to extricate himself from the back pats and congratulations of his fellow professionals. It was nothing, he told them, and he really believed anyone else would have done the same thing; the difference in this case was that the child had been in danger because of him, and that fact didn't sit well with him.\n\nThe phrase _do no harm,_ entered his mind, but he didn't know if it was from his newfound psychotic narrator or from his own philosophical beliefs.\n\nUnsure what to do, James pulled his phone from his pocket and hit his speed dial. It began to ring, and he smiled as the lilting tones of the recipients chosen music played for him. It was always different and always pleasant.\n\n### Chapter 19\n\n\"This is my big sister Vera Linn Monroe, but you can call her Vera,\" Anna's childish voice said distinctly.\n\nThe scene changed rapidly; the cameraman had been an obvious amateur, unable to control his equipment. Vera watched Anna on the screen as the little girl continued to introduce her sister to everyone. It was Anna's 5th birthday party, and she was excited. They had met at the park and she, along with several of her friends, was looking forward to cake and presents.\n\nThe video ended and Vera put in another. She sat back down and continued to pull at the ears of Anna's favorite stuffed animal. It was in terrible condition, but Vera held onto it and protected it.\n\nA loud _whoop_ of a siren caught her attention. She made her way to the window and looked out to the street. The patrol car was still there. It had been parked on their street since before she arrived home.\n\n\"Excuse me, are you Vera Linn Monroe?\" they had asked when she had dragged her tired body to the front door a few days prior.\n\n\"Yes,\" she had replied.\n\nThe officers had wasted no time in gathering her up and taking her to the station. She was tired but was forced to spend countless hours answering questions. Her family's murder was big news, and the prominence of her father caused the city's elite to push for a quick resolution. She hated her father at that moment; everyone cared for him and his money, not for Anna. They told her how tragic it was that her mother was killed, but it was her damn father that got the attention. Even her mother was a side note.\n\n\"It must have been someone that he failed to defend,\" the police had said. \"Or, maybe he was working on a civil case and the defense wanted him quiet.\"\n\nVera gave them everything she could. Yes, she had been there. No, she didn't know why they were attacked. Yes, she had run.\n\n\"Where is your sister?\" they asked and Vera startled.\n\nThe image of her sibling being crushed slammed into her mind and she couldn't speak. But for the police, she had nothing. They couldn't find her body, and Vera couldn't find the strength to tell them not to bother. It must have been Badir, who had taken his sister. Even now, Vera could feel his mind tickling hers—the creator checking in on its creation. That thought angered her, but that anger was soon overcome with resignation.\n\nThe police wondered where she had been, and she told them lies. She didn't even consider for a moment about mentioning her real situation. They wouldn't believe her, and if she proved it, they would probably lock her up. The government was always doing things like that. Besides, the Seattle Police didn't have the best reputation. In the last few years, they had shot and killed an innocent man and put another innocent man into a permanent vegetative state. It had been so newsworthy that even Vera had heard about it, and she avoided the news.\n\nCould she provide a description of the assailant? Yes she could, and Vera set about doing something that she actually did want to do. She described Badir so well that the police were congratulating her in the end. She even corrected minor flaws in the computer generated mockup by adding fine detail.\n\nHer mind envisioned Badir easily as she thought about him. She had never been able to recall her memories with this much detail, but the events of that night were seared into her mind, and her co-creator—if he could be called that—came easily to mind as she thought about him. He was in the core of Seattle, walking the streets.\n\nShe had cried when the police returned her home. She was alone; there was no one, and for the past few days she had slept in Anna's bed, smelling her sheets and cuddling with her stuffed animals. One of those animals was now firmly in her grip as she watched the events outside.\n\nThe police lights were flashing, adding a stark contrast to the darkness that was descending with the setting sun. Her eyes could see three figures; two were approaching the third and calling out to him. Her hair moved slightly as her ears deformed. It was a new trick, and one she found that she liked. Sounds increased in volume, and she could hear the conversation easily.\n\n\"Sir, I asked you to stop,\" said one of the officers.\n\n\"I'm stopped,\" James said as he motioned to the officers to demonstrate that he was standing still. The officers didn't appreciate the visual demonstration; hands went to guns.\n\n\"Sir, don't move,\" the officer commanded.\n\n\"All right,\" James cried. \"I'm not moving.\"\n\nThe second officer came up to James and then went to his back side. He began to pat him down while the first officer continued to talk.\n\n\"What are you doing here tonight?\"\n\n\"I came to check on Vera. I'm a friend,\" James told the men.\n\nThe second officer pulled out a wallet and checked his ID. James pointed at the house. \"I just want to knock on the door and see how she is. Is that okay?\"\n\n\"Just remain right there, sir,\" the officer commanded gruffly. He wasn't amused. Neither was his partner, who looked at the ID and then reached to the mic at his shoulder.\n\n\"Dispatch, can I get an ID check?\"\n\nThe radio squawked and a conversation began with the intention to verify the ID of James. After a few minutes, the second officer returned the wallet but maintained his superior attitude.\n\n\"You check out, but I would like to know more about you. What are you doing here, and why are you looking in to Miss Monroe?\"\n\nVera listened as James verbally fought with the police. The cops were jerks, but she enjoyed the anguish they gave to James. After a few minutes, one of the officers approached the front door and rang the bell.\n\nShe sighed, unsure what to do. She was calmer than before, but she still hated him. It was odd to her that she also wanted to see him; part of her was actually happy that he was here. Deciding to at least answer the door, she retracted her ears and went to the entryway.\n\nAfter opening the front door, she briefly spoke to the officer. He explained what she already knew; that James Connor was here to see her. She looked around the officer and spied James watching her. He seemed to plead with his eyes. Her anger swelled suddenly, and she had to look away.\n\n\"Tell him to leave,\" she said and closed the door.\n\nShe went back to the window and extended her ears again. The officers told James her response and he shook his head. He was giving up and that angered Vera. She left the room she was in and headed up the stairs to Anna's room in the back of the house. The window opened easily and Vera climbed onto the roof; she found her new features were beneficial to this task, and she was even able to maintain possession of Anna's stuffed toy.\n\nWhen Vera reached the crest of the roof, she looked down to the street below. The officers were making sure that James got to his car. Vera raised a brow—she didn't know he even owned a car. He seemed to go peacefully and put up no fight, no resistance.\n\n\"Coward,\" she said.\n\nJames suddenly turned and looked directly at her. She gasped and dropped the stuffed animal. It hit the roof and rolled to the edge, tumbling to the front of the house. Vera watched it go and was both saddened and angered by its loss. He had caused this.\n\nShe looked at him and saw that he was casting his eyes around. He couldn't see her, but he knew she was there. It was when she felt his mind reach for her that her eyes turned to slits. She punched back at him with her thoughts and saw him wince. She yelled at him with her mind, turned her body around, and leapt.\n\nJames could sense the movement in his being and even heard Vera land in the trees near the street. This part of Madison Park was covered with large and contoured specimens. Their interlocking branches reached across the street to counterparts on the other side, and when in bloom, as they were now, sunlight had a difficult time piercing their veil. Now that it was getting late, the street was in almost total darkness.\n\nA soft growl and rustle of leaves caught his attention and James turned to see a large dog staring at him. James had been so engrossed with Vera and the cops that he had missed the hell hounds presence. He was just about to ask to be ignored but stopped quickly. Thinking on the matter, he decided to let the animal be. If it became confused, it might leave its position of protection. The dog sensed this somehow, nodded its head, and then took one look at the cops and growled.\n\n\"Easy, boy,\" James whispered. \"They're just doing their jobs.\"\n\nThe hell hound obeyed, casting a quick glance to James before heading back to the shrubbery. The officers, still unamused and acting like jerks, demanded that he get into his car and leave. He did so and went back to following Vera with his mind. She was leaping through the trees as fast as she could and was already near the end of the long street. She leaped to a rooftop and made her way to the next street over. It quickly became more difficult to follow her, and soon she was lost to him.\n\nJames was left with nothing else to do but give the stupid cops their satisfaction. He started his car, put it in gear, and headed home.\n\n### Chapter 20\n\nEvents began to quicken the next day, and James began to feel like he was drowning. The first bad news—as if he needed more—came from Jonah. James had opened the door to see Jonah, visibly angry and not even offering a pleasant greeting.\n\n\"Dude, what the hell did you give me the other day?\" Jonah asked curtly.\n\n\"Give you?\" James asked in return.\n\nHe wasn't sure what Jonah meant. The phrasing of the question implied that James had spread the flu or some other virulent infection.\n\n\"That _venom_ you gave the technician. He ran an analysis on it, and then I got a ticked off phone call from some man at a classified research facility in Italy. Apparently, it's a restricted neurotoxin. They wanted to know where we got it, how we got such a high quantity, and what we were doing with it.\"\n\nJames was at a loss for how to explain the interest in the venom, and as he thought about it, he spied a shade lingering in the hallway just beyond Jonah. It had an ominous presence to it.\n\n\"Get in here,\" James commanded quickly. He wanted his friend out of danger. \"I swear to you, Jonah, it's just venom,\" James said as he closed the door behind his friend.\n\n\"Whatever, man,\" Jonah said while rolling his eyes, not believing James. \"Look, I can't cover for you on this one. I don't know what this company is, but they have connections up the ass. This event triggered an audit, and with our grants being dependant on the government, I have to comply. I can guarantee you that this is gonna come out, and I'll have to give them your name. I would love to cover for you, but I just can't.\"\n\nNow it was James' turn to be doubtful. He didn't believe for a second that Jonah would ever want to cover for him, but it was a moot point. If Jonah was telling the truth about an audit, then a lot of information would be revealed, including his participation in the gene therapy trial.\n\nThe two men sat in the living room and discussed the problem. James made it clear that his friend wasn't to protect him—it was a pointless offer of generosity, since that was what Jonah was going to do anyway. He told Jonah to save his career if he could, and send all the inquiries to him.\n\n\"I'll tell them the truth,\" he said to Jonah. \"That I needed a toxin examined, and I gave it to you without much detail. Just plead ignorance.\"\n\n\"I can do that,\" Jonah replied.\n\nJames knew he could. It wasn't a hard act for Jonah to perform.\n\n\"Where did you get that stuff, anyway?\"\n\n\"It's vampire venom,\" James replied easily.\n\n\"Fine, whatever, be that way if you want to. Just keep me out of it,\" he said and then began to leave in a huff.\n\nWorried for his safety, James followed Jonah down to the lobby, playing the consoling friend while in actuality being his protector. The shade kept its distance, but James could sense its hunger and its animosity towards him. It was almost as if it knew James had helped kill one of its own. James dispatched quick thoughts to ignore him, but they went unanswered. When he sent a forceful image of what happened to the last shade he had encountered, the beast wavered and then quickly dissipated.\n\nThe police were the next to arrive, and they made a grand show of questioning him. The high profile case of Mr. Monroe meant no one was safe, and the police didn't care whether or not James was innocent. The fact that he had only just met the Monroes made him appear guiltier in their eyes.\n\nThis in turn led to a request for his clients to open files and answer questions about his whereabouts. Records were soon found referencing Vera and the anti-venom, and his contacts at the hospital were even questioned. Thankfully, the hospital didn't release the records. Without a court order, client patient confidentiality was in effect, but the hospital administration began to question James regarding the situation. He even had to appear in person to defend himself.\n\nHe found his situation difficult to explain, and James deferred from answering any questions, citing his own client confidentiality. Luckily, he had enough friends and colleagues who he had helped over the years, and they gave him the benefit of the doubt while making it clear that a court order would trump anything; they would be forced to comply.\n\nUpon returning to his apartment building, he was tired and made the mistake of openly approaching the building as he walked down the sidewalk. Camulas was at his side quickly.\n\n\"Hide yourself, you fool,\" he growled.\n\nJames looked up and could sense the danger he was in. The beings around the area stared at him, and for the first time he knew they felt justified in their vigilance.\n\nCurious, James examined the entities around him. These demons weren't visible to most people, but he could see them easily enough. They were on the streets, the buildings, and the plant life that graced the area. Small sprites stared at him from lamp posts, while leafy plant tendrils extended from city planter boxes and sniffed the air, searching for him. As he watched, one of the small pixies became a little too absorbed with him, and a nearby sith pounced on it. James gasped as the catlike creature tore the peaceful pixie to shreds. When it was done, the feline opened its jaws wide, unhinging its mouth like a snake and displayed the bloodied teeth for all to see.\n\nJames was stunned, but kept his composure long enough to send out a request to be ignored. At first it was weak and didn't appear to have much effect, but after turning his eyes to slits and angering, he cast out his command once again. This time he could see the confusion as the various beings began to scan the area, searching for something they had lost.\n\nNow that he was provided with some privacy, James took the opportunity to closely examine the beasts that still remained in the open. Looking at the stone work of the building across the way, he could see the surface move and ripple as an almost invisible being retreated farther up the facade. The beast was living rock and older than even Camulas. As James concentrated on it, he realized that it was much older—perhaps thousands of years older. He also realized that his projections had little if any affect on it.\n\nAs they walked down the street, James sent out a general feeling of his intentions. He could feel the more savage and ancient beasts sensing for his mind, searching for his presence. They were like children or pets: conscious in their own right, but very simple in intellect.\n\nIgnoring Camulas, James moved away from his building and approached the stone wall, which rippled as he neared. He was fascinated with this particular demon, and as he approached he found himself oddly attracted to it. Next to him, following curiously, Camulas searched but sensed nothing and saw just as much.\n\n\"What is it you are playing at?\" the man asked James.\n\n\"You don't see that?\" he asked Camulas incredulously.\n\n\"I see a wall. It's very well done and appears to be a red or pink marble. Perhaps from Italy. It must have cost the owners a considerable amount of money to decorate the building like this.\"\n\nJames agreed, nodding his head as they looked around the base of the building. The entire first floor was of this magnificent stone, which was offset by stainless steel lettering and other accents.\n\nJames watched as the stoned continue to ripple in front of him. He sent out his mind and felt for the beast but couldn't gather much information. It was old, as he originally suspected, and it had emotions. However, these emotions were so foreign that he found them confusing and difficult to comprehend, not like the other Celtic beasts. At least in them, he found some semblance of human connection. In them, he could feel hunger, anger, curiosity. Even the simple creatures gave him a sense of basic mindless emotion, much as one would feel after a long Saturday of mind numbing television. This creature, however, was very different, and James had no words to describe it. What he was beginning to have with regard to the ancient beast was an odd understanding: a sharing of mutual respect.\n\nUnafraid, he placed his hand on the stone, and his mind raced with visions he couldn't comprehend. Gas erupted from fissures and life crippling smells assaulted his mind, interpreted by the oldest evolved parts of his brain. Molten rock gurgled and raged through underground tunnels, and all the while James felt as if he were a child, thrilled for their first ride on Space Mountain.\n\nChemical compositions filled his mind, mineral analysis, crystalline forms, and then basic life. James' eyes widened suddenly and he cried out in mild shock. He could feel that life and an intelligence unfamiliar to him. This creature was older than any other being nearby, and was therefore comprised of much more experience. As James continued to probe and learn, the rock before him did the same. Having spent centuries alone, it reached out to his mind, and James quickly became overloaded.\n\nAs if in a dream, he watched himself from a distance, hand to rock and crying in pain. A wave of pure emotion swept from him; much as it had the night he called for Arinai. From his disparate vantage point, he could see a ripple radiate from him and the wall, spreading across the city like water from a pond. Unconsciousness then gripped his mind.\n\nWhen James woke, he found himself being lifted to his feet by Camulas.\n\n\"What the hell was that?\" asked the god of war.\n\nJames caught his breath.\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\"Well, you may want to do something about it, whatever the hell it was. Every demon in the area felt it, and we're now exposed.\"\n\nJames looked about and saw what Camulas meant. His new followers were all watching him carefully, moving about warily while still oddly curious about him. Luckily, they kept their distance, but James was quick to ask for ignorance on their part. Most complied; those that didn't were too powerful, or too intelligent to be fooled.\n\n\"Some of them will not look away anymore,\" said James as his breath calmed.\n\n\"I shouldn't worry about them. I believe they will leave you alone.\"\n\n\"Why is that?\"\n\n\"Hell, Oracle,\" Camulas said with surprise. \"I'm the god of war, and after what I just felt coming from you, I need to change my underwear.\"\n\nJames looked at his friend and could see the sure wonderment in his expression. He then had to wonder what had just happened. What could cause such a reaction from the demons, and especially Camulas? He wasn't sure about the answer, or even whether or not Camulas had made a joke. Hell, he wasn't sure Camulas could make a joke.\n\nTaking another look at the stone wall was of course a necessity. The rippling continued, and he could make out small visages of those underground lava tubes and gaseous eruptions; it was a silent movie played for his benefit on the surface of the marble. James also knew that this being hadn't meant to hurt him; it had meant to hold his mind like a friend would hold your hand. James had simply been too weak to endure the request.\n\nCamulas got James' attention and nodded silently in another direction. James followed his gaze and could see her watching them. She was as lovely as she had been at the cafe, and this time had chosen an almost angelic figure to assume. She was on a raised dais used to display art for one of the nearby buildings, but that art paled in comparison to her. The image was almost peaceful as she sat on her knees, much as a person would sit in a meadow to pick flowers. Today, the raven had taken the form of an Angel, wings and all. Only this Angel's wings and clothing were black in color, and when she smiled at him, it was a lover's smile—wicked and knowing.\n\n\"She is not meant for you, human,\" a woman's voice screeched from behind them.\n\nBoth James and Camulas turned at the sound and were presented with an odd sight. A woman stood several feet away, adorned in ragged clothes that hinted at refinement—almost as if she had worn her Sunday best before walking away and becoming homeless.\n\nThe dress was black and orange, made of silk, and torn in places. It seemed to match her hair, which was haphazard and as black as her dress. A quick flick of his mind told James that she was a sister to the raven—not as powerful, but dangerous in her own right.\n\n\"She's a crow,\" James whispered to Camulas.\n\nThe crow heard him but ignored the comment, leaning in and baring her teeth to them as she hissed.\n\n\"She is not meant for you,\" the woman said again, her head jerking about as she spoke.\n\nThe image brought to mind a person having a seizure, but as James thought about it, he realized it was more the motions of a bird's head—quick and concise.\n\n\"What is it you want?\" Camulas demanded.\n\nThe woman laughed manically, placing her hand to her mouth as she did.\n\n_She's insane_ , thought James, and he knew it was true.\n\nShe had been in hiding so long that she had forgotten how to be human, and as people on the streets witnessed the odd woman with her tattered clothing and her jerking motions, they instinctively moved away, as everyone does around the insane.\n\nThe crow calmed in her laughter but refused to answer the question. It wasn't necessary, though. James could sense the reasons for this confrontation. This beast was crazy, reckless, and expendable. That's why the raven had tricked her sister into this confrontation. She wanted to test the power of the Oracle.\n\nCamulas sensed this, and James could feel the man bracing for battle. A quick hand to the man's arm stopped him.\n\n\"No killing,\" James said, and even though he could sense the evil from this bird, he felt sympathy for it.\n\nHe could feel its pain. A pain that had evolved as it remained hidden over the centuries, spending time in hiding and losing its mind as it did. He even found her name, her human name before becoming a crow. It was Sarah, a label that had long since lost its meaning for her, and James found sadness in that fact.\n\nThe crow approached carefully, keeping her distance from Camulas and closing on a vector that would bring her to James from a safer angle. Camulas adjusted his position, trying to protect him, but both James and the crow moved aside, negating the man's motions.\n\nThe woman's head jerked forward and she snapped her jaws as she took yet another step. She was still several feet away, but James knew that she had no intention of stopping. She was going to get as far as she could and when she felt it prudent, she would attack.\n\nErase her.\n\nThe thought came to James, but he had no idea from where. It was much like with the child at the Deli—a part of his mind was offering a solution to the problem at hand. It was something he had always experienced. He often found solutions to problems that no one else could see, but he had never had those solutions voiced so loudly into his consciousness.\n\n_Forget_ , James thought loudly to the crow.\n\nHe had picked a point, deep into her past, and tried to send her mind to that place, attempting to wipe out all the bad memories in between. The act worked to some degree, and James could see much of the woman's mind become fragmented. He wished he could heal her. He wished he could make her forget her pain and remember only the good from her past, but she was too far damaged for that, and her mental defenses were too strong for him to fully enter her mind. What he did achieve, however, was a small victory. The crow before him became confused, blinked rapidly, and began to wonder where she was.\n\nJames and Camulas watched as she attempted to gain her bearing, and as she ambled about, she wandered too close to the marbled wall. Like a wave crashing upon the shore, the wall moved in the blink of an eye, encompassing the crow and pulling her into it.\n\nJames gasped, as did Camulas. Both of them could only stare as the wall slowly reformed itself into the building. The visage of the crow became emblazoned on the surface like an etching, and as James watched, he could see the woman's last remaining movements as her face contorted in pain as it merged with the rock.\n\nAcross the street, the raven screeched loudly, causing everyone to turn. There were several people standing about, mouth agape at having witnessed the unbelievable, and as the raw emotion of the raven's voice assaulted the city, these people turned about, trying to locate the primal sound. Only Camulas and James could see her, though, and as they watched, the raven angered. Her eyes turned darker, as if that were possible. She set her hands to the edge of the pedestal she was on and prepared to take flight. James could sense her body beginning to change, offering her a more combative form.\n\nWith determination as well as resignation, he nodded his head and raped her. For a moment, his mind invaded her and he felt her anger, her surprise, and even her sadness at losing a sister. James, however, ignored these thoughts and began to take the raven on a journey into her own mind, conjuring memories along the way.\n\nSlowly, she calmed, and as she did, she began to smile. Her wings stretched forth, reaching towards the sky and straining their tendons to the limits. For a moment, James believed that the demon's wings would separate from her back and fall away, the strength in their stretch was that great. Suddenly, she collapsed, and James walked away, hell bent on getting home.\n\n\"What did you just do to her?\" Camulas asked as he moved to keep pace with the smaller man next to him.\n\n\"I just walked her through some memories of her life,\" he replied.\n\n\"And that information produced that result?\" Camulas asked.\n\nJames nodded.\n\n\"Well, I forced myself into her mind and pushed into her memories. When she resisted, I hit her with her own cruelty. It was like whipping someone or beating a dog. After the third or fourth time of me forcing myself on her, she caved in and collapsed.\"\n\n\"And you're ok with using that tactic?\" Camulas asked skeptically as they entered the building.\n\nJames turned back to Camulas suddenly.\n\n\"Of course I'm not!\" James exclaimed, as they moved through his lobby.\n\nCamulas appeared to relax after that admission, but James didn't allow the man much of a reprieve.\n\n\"I would never beat a dog,\" he said quietly, moving towards the elevators and smiling mischievously to himself, even as Camulas stopped in stunned silence, left to wonder if James had been serious.\n\nThe two of them headed up to the apartment, where James poured himself a large glass of scotch.\n\n\"It' s been a rough day,\" Camulas stated, wary of the man before him. James sensed the wariness, but just shrugged his shoulders at it.\n\n\"You have no idea,\" he replied as he gulped his drink. This was no time to sip.\n\nArinai arrived shortly after them; Camulas had texted that there was trouble, and she had moved as fast as possible. James, who was now feeling the alcohol, began to relax.\n\n\"What is it?\" she asked. \"What happened?\"\n\nCamulas took a moment to describe the incidents from earlier, and Arinai listened with a grave expression. The entire time, James remained slumped in his living room chair, dejected by his life. After a moment, he took over and began to describe the events of the last few days for her.\n\n\"My life is so out of control at the moment, and I have no idea what to do. Although, this scotch is helping,\" he said after finishing his narrative.\n\n\"You're the Oracle, you'll figure this out.\"\n\nJames laughed\n\n\"Oh, will I?\" he asked. \"Do you realize how much trouble I'm in? The government is going to question me. The police will eventually find out that Vera was at my place—oh, and I have no idea how I'm supposed to explain that, by the way. Do I tell them that a vampire attacked her and that I needed to protect her? I hardly think they'll believe that story. I also have a hospital looking into my records, not to mention I've taken time off from clients recently to deal with what? Demons? I certainly can't mention that fact, but my missing hours will come into question. The police are going to want an exact account of where I have been.\"\n\nHe was cracking and Arinai saw it; Camulas did as well. He needed sleep and time, and they needed to help him. She wasn't sure how. Arinai had waited for an oracle her entire life. She was certain that James was that being, but she had never believed he would need her help in such a way; she never believed he would be so weak. She hated to think it, but there it was. Her oracle was weak and needed her assistance. She had always thought it would be the other way around.\n\n\"What if I'm not? What if I can't?\" he asked her.\n\nShe stared at him in confusion. He stood and faced them squarely. \"What If I'm not this Oracle, and what if I can't find a way out of this?\"\n\n\"I don't have an answer for you,\" she replied as her eyes widened with the realization that he had read her mind.\n\nJames laughed to himself as he felt Arinai's defenses slam back into place.\n\n_She thinks I'm weak,_ he thought, amused with the idea.\n\n\"You think that I'm the Oracle, and I'm supposed to have the answer,\" he said to her mockingly. \"You think I'm supposed to be the all-powerful being?\"\n\n\"You mistake your importance, human,\" Camulas growled. \"The Oracle is never powerful in and of itself. It's a source of information; it is insight and wisdom. That ability gives it power, as it did with Delphi.\"\n\n\"And how did that idiot deal with it?\"\n\n\"Careful, you fool,\" Camulas growled. \"You are insulting beings and powers that you don't understand.\" Camulas wasn't impressed by this man's current actions and showed his disgust on his face. \"I thought you were an analyst. I thought solving problems was what paid for all of this.\" Camulas waved his hand around to include the apartment. \"I would think that you could solve your hospital problem and a minor report of venom to a foreign company.\"\n\n\"I solve technical and theoretical problems, you oaf,\" James blurted out as if Camulas were an idiot, \"not problems dealing with the police.\"\n\nCamulas moved suddenly, but Arinai held him in place. James wasn't sure how she held him, but he was grateful that she did; Camulas looked as if he were going to swing a punch at him.\n\nJames' cell phone rang, and he gladly took the call. He needed a rest from his guests. However, as he answered call he could feel the presence of the others and even hear their conversation. His mind split in two, one side taking the phone call, the other eavesdropping on his friends.\n\n\"He has problems,\" Camulas said to Arinai.\n\nShe nodded her head. \"Can you blame him? He's encountering a lot of difficulty. His whole life is changing.\"\n\n\"Yours did as well. So did mine. Even his lover is dealing with things better than he is.\"\n\nArinai nodded her head. \"Vera is remarkably strong. I just hope she continues to remain that way.\"\n\nJames finished his call and calmly poured another scotch, somehow bringing his vision back to a single point. Now that the phone call was done, he could concentrate on just his guests.\n\n\"Well, that was the hospital. My privileges have been revoked and my vendor status has been removed. I can no longer consult for them.\n\n\"Is that bad?\"\n\n\"It's not good,\" he said with a sarcastic laugh, \"and it was strongly recommended that I get counsel. Hell, for the size of this mess, I might need a team of lawyers.\"\n\nA soft thud sounded throughout the room, and the three occupants looked towards the window. An odd form was attached to the outside, and they could do nothing but stare at it. It appeared to be play dough and about the size of a large pancake. James set his glass down and moved closer to take a look. As he approached, a single large eye opened and stared at him. He jumped backwards and almost fell over, barely catching himself on his furniture before he hit the ground.\n\nAfter righting himself, he took a moment to catch his breath and then his anger swelled.\n\n\"That's it. Get out, now! Get out of here,\" he was addressing the blob as well as Camulas and Arinai. The blob didn't move, but James re-enforced his command to be ignored, and it fell away on its own. His command was so potent that when he turned back to Arinai and Camulas, he noticed they also appeared to be in a state of confusion.\n\nHe didn't care. He took advantage of their distracted mind and ushered them out of his apartment, slamming the newly installed door as he did so. He then returned to his chair, grabbed his scotch and sat down. Taking a deep breath, he sighed and wondered where his life had gone so wrong.\n\nThe scotch was now making him maudlin, and it wasn't long before he reached for his phone. He dialed and prayed for an answer. Voicemail was his only reward. The few seconds that the message played were torture, and he couldn't decide if he should leave a message. The _beep_ of the system came before he had made up his mind, and for a moment he didn't do anything.\n\n\"Vera, it's James,\" he finally said. \"I'm just trying to get a hold of you again. Please call me and let me know you're okay.\"\n\nHe ended the call and turned his attention back to his drink. This was one problem he could solve: what should he do with all the brown liquid that was in the glass?\n\n### Chapter 21\n\nJames awoke the next morning and regretted the alcohol from the night before. His head pounded, his muscles ached, and it took time for him to shower and dress. It was time well spent, and he didn't bother rushing. Besides, it wasn't like he had work to get to. Finishing with the shower, he brushed his teeth, dressed, and headed to the kitchen to make coffee.\n\nIt was raining and spring was rapidly turning to summer, but you wouldn't know it to look out the window. The Olympics were obscured, and the Sound was filled with choppy waves. It was a scene to match his mood.\n\nWith his coffee in hand, James sat and thought about his situation. The only conclusion he could come to was that his life was insane. Or, perhaps his life was fine and he was insane. Maybe he would even end up in an institution, and for as much as he had seen recently, he still didn't discount that possibility.\n\nJames hit the power on his audio system and soft music began to play. He quickly changed it. He needed something more depressing. He found the music he was looking for and sat quietly while watching the water. The rain continued to pelt the city, and the darkness from the clouds kept the area in constant shadow—the Oracle's shadows. The shadows that slowly enthroned James as he sat in his chair, listening to music and drinking his coffee.\n\nHe never noticed it. It happened so slowly that it would be years before he would make a connection. However, as he watched the darkened city before him, the music of his apartment began to change. If it had made a large jump in genre or tempo he would have immediately known something was amiss, but the incremental change went unnoticed.\n\nAt first it matched his mood, dark, somber, foreboding, and even disturbing. From there, it rose slightly, and James could feel anger rising within him. It was undirected, but it was there. As the music continued, the sound of drums entered and the ancient beat filled James with a sense of primal urges. It matched his heartbeat, and as one rose so did the other. Still, he didn't notice his mood change, and if he had, he would not have been able to say whether the drums rose with his heartbeat or if it was the other way round.\n\nThe music began to focus his mind and anger turned to determination, which then turned to solutions. He sat up suddenly and went for his phone. Over the next several minutes, he placed a call to his attorney and explained the situation. He also mentioned the government and the police—at least as much as he could over the phone. An initial game plan was established, and James began to authorize the expenditure of money.\n\nHis attorney, very competent in his own right, assured James that he would be taken care of. This fact was reinforced several minutes later when James received a return call. All police inquiries would now be directed to the team of attorneys representing Mr. James Connor—his attorney had brought in the entire law firm.\n\nJames smiled wickedly—he was pleased with such quick results—but his attorney assured him that it was a simple matter, helped by having the direct line to the chief of police as well as mentioning the phrase _team of attorneys_.\n\nHappy with that progress, James set about tackling his next problem. He thought about Vera, but decided to leave her to her own devices. Still, he wanted to check up on her and sent his mind to hers. She was hard for him to see, but he knew that she was still at home and still safe. He even received a flash of insight about her situation. The police continued to monitor her, although the hell hound was now gone, and while he had a bad taste in his mouth for the idiotic officers left behind, he was pleased that Vera had some protection.\n\nHis computer turned on at his touch, and the beat of the music drove him onward. Now, it was a more hopeful tune tinged with the need for a completion. James brought up research on the Oracle of Delphi and spent hours learning about the ancient trove of wisdom from the Mediterranean. It was possibly older than either the Roman or the Celtic civilizations and originally may have been a temple to Gaia, the earth mother.\n\nSeveral scientific expeditions had even been led to the site to analyze minerals, volcanic gases, and the history of the area. The expeditions were footnoted, and James used his technical access to research some of the original notes. He was even able to locate some of the gentlemen who had done the work. Several phone calls and a few cooperative recipients gave him even more information.\n\nPlans began to form, and as the images flashed across his large TV screen/computer monitor, he began to smile. His situation wasn't so dire, and he could work this out: he knew he could. He even chuckled as his plans began to coalesce, coming to him from parts of his mind that he hadn't realized he possessed. The solutions and details fell into place, and with each new challenge that cropped up as he set his plans into motion, his new senses offered not just answers, but the details to accommodate those answers. His mind went forth to Seattle and the beasts became his eyes, sending him information about the layout of the streets or the location of harder to detect ancients. He even had to smile as he discovered them; they were well hidden. More importantly, he knew that Arinai had been wrong. She and Camulas were not all that remained of that older class.\n\nAcross the street, Arinai could feel the smile and smiled herself. She had no idea what he was thinking; she was just pleased that she had been of some help to elevate his mood. She sensed that her music continued to move him, driving him onward, and she persisted with it, guiding his mental state to a better place. She couldn't force him to do anything, but a willing participant to her methods could often benefit from them. Over the centuries, she had led armies to battle on her drum beats and moved men to tears with her flutes. Now, as she worried for the future, she nudged her oracle to become the man she needed him to be.\n\n### Chapter 22\n\n\"This is insane,\" Camulas responded as he listened to the idiotic plan.\n\n\"My life is insane. What's your point?\"\n\nArinai shook her head, and then rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. She wasn't sure of the wisdom of this idea. Her oracle was indeed in better spirits, and she was grateful for that fact, but this was something for which she had serious doubts.\n\nShe shook her head again as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing.\n\n\"A permanent truce is what you want?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And you want to gather these beasts in one area to approach them and outline this truce?\"\n\n\"They're already in one area, immediately outside of my apartment building. I just want to get them out of here and get them to leave me alone.\"\n\n\"Okay, and you think they'll adhere to this?\" Arinai asked.\n\n\"I think they will.\"\n\nArinai and Camulas looked at their new friend carefully. He was cocky—perhaps a little too cocky—and they suspected he was up to something, but they didn't know what. Arinai asked for clarification, and James answered cryptically. There was an awkward silence as the three occupants stared at each other. James chuckled and gave in, slightly.\n\n\"Are you familiar with Delphi?\" he asked.\n\nThey both nodded their heads.\n\n\"I even visited Delphi, it was one of the last vestiges of the Roman Empire to fall,\" Arinai told him.\n\n\"Well, apparently it was well respected and in high demand,\" he told them. \"The priestesses that were allowed to interpret the wisdom of the Oracle passed their information on to the priests, who acted as intermediaries. It was rare to get a direct audience with a priestess, and even then it was only been allowed one day a month. The rest of the time wisdom was passed using guile, showmanship, and hallucinogenic gases. Now, I may not be the Oracle,\" James held up his hand to quell any disagreements by his companions and then moved on, \"but I can act the part. If these demons believe it, then I can command them to leave me alone and work with intermediaries.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Smurfs, for all I care.\" James responded flippantly. \"Look, I can find someone or something to perform that duty. At least for the moment, I can set the rules of interactions with me. They will abide by this truce or lose access. Any attempt to harm me or interfere with my life will be seen as an attack, and I will grant favors to others in order to safeguard and defend myself. I imagine the thought of losing access, as well as being attacked by another demon, will dissuade most of them.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, but maybe not all,\" Arinai said. \"What of the raven?\"\n\nJames paused for a moment.\n\n\"I have a plan to deal with her as well, but I don't relish implementing it. If that witch wants to be raped, I might need to oblige her from time to time. And if she doesn't behave then I'll withhold my violations of her mind.\"\n\nJames laughed at the sheer perverted lunacy of that plan, and once again, Arinai wondered about the man's sanity.\n\n\"I may not be able to protect you should anything go awry,\" Camulas said.\n\n\"What's the worst that could happen?\"\n\n\"They could realize that you have no real power and kill you,\" Arinai replied.\n\nJames sighed and his shoulders slumped. \"Then I suppose all my problems will be solved.\"\n\n_Was he serious?_ Arinai thought.\n\nArinai wasn't certain, but she believed he may be. She looked to Camulas, who was also attempting to determine the veracity of the statement. He couldn't decide as to the truth and conveyed his confusion to Arinai with a slight head shake. They could only agree that James might actually wish to commit suicide, or if not suicide, then his death was something that he was prepared to accept.\n\nThey attempted to dissuade him, but James was unusually determined, and Arinai had to shake her head. If she had known that her musical ministrations would lead to this, she would have left him to his hangover. Camulas eventually gave up, resigned to the plan, and left. Arinai remained behind and tried again.\n\n\"You're still learning about these demons,\" she said. \"Once confronted with them in a personal setting, you may wish you hadn't revealed yourself so openly. A banshee yell could cripple everyone there. The raven could darken the sun, or the moon, and blood would flow as she chose her victims at random. The succubus will enrapture your mind, and the selkie, even in man form, will seduce you and lead you to a watery grave. There are many things that could go wrong with this plan.\"\n\n\"Arinai, there is a solution here,\" he pleaded.\n\n\"Maybe,\" she said quickly, \"but what you're asking has never been done. Our kind does not play well together. Sure, there are peaceful beings among us, but what you see around your building represents the more aggressive types. You may see a water nymph or an air wisp at this gathering, but it's the others that worry me.\"\n\n\"I have faith.\"\n\nArinai snorted.\n\n\"From an atheist?\"\n\nJames went to the window and watched as the rain began to calm.\n\n\"Arinai, have you ever just felt that something was right?\" he asked her without turning around. \"That a solution was perfect, or that things would just work out?\" He turned to her, but she didn't respond. \"I feel that certainty with this meeting. It's as if I look out into the world and see strings. If I pull this string, then I get a particular response, and if I pull another, then I will get yet another response. I have thought about how to handle these beasts, and this one idea comes to mind with blaring force. I can imagine the meeting. It will be at the parking garage below Steinbrueck Park. There will be many beasts in attendance, and the solution will be there. I just feel it.\"\n\n\"They will abide by your wishes?\" Arinai asked, becoming curious by his description and his prediction. It was an odd prediction, but a prediction nonetheless.\n\n\"I don't know,\" he admitted. \"I can't see the actual events. It's not like watching a movie. I just get a feeling that this is what needs to be done. My mind has asked for a solution, this idea came to me, and it feels right. As I think about other solutions they feel wrong, stupid, or ineffective. Something about this is different.\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" Arinai responded as she pondered the situation. \"And will the raven be there?\"\n\nJames nodded. \"As will Badir, I can sense that. And I can feel that he is more dangerous than she is. At least for the moment. However, something must be done.\"\n\n\"Why?\" she asked. \"Why must something be done?\"\n\nJames turned from her again and went to his window. The rain streaked the pane and her eyes were drawn to his reflection in the glass. It was the reflection of a man covered by shimmering lights and the tears of the gods.\n\n_That's how I first saw you, Oracle,_ she thought as she recalled the memory from her youth. _That's how you appeared when you first came to my mind._\n\n\"I know about your protection,\" he said simply. \"I began to feel it a few days ago and understood it only more recently. You and Camulas have been protecting me, shielding me from danger. You've been using your music to keep the demons calm, and Camulas has been murdering the ones that pose a larger threat.\n\n\"Camulas would never...\" she began to claim loudly, but James turned to her suddenly and she could see it in his eyes.\n\nHer hand went to her mouth as she realized the truth of his statement. As if to provide proof, the image of a slain lycan popped into her head, bloody and caught mid-change—somewhere between a man and a wolf. It took her a moment to process the truth and when she had, she nodded her head, resigning herself to his judgment. Camulas had murdered their own kind and hid the horror from her because he knew she would not approve.\n\n\"All right, I'll trust your decision. But I still don't like it.\"\n\nShe watched him as he turned back to the city. In the reflection, he smiled and nodded his head. He had wanted her approval, and she only now realized that fact. Putting on a weak smile, she went to him. She turned to face him, put her hand on his chest, and gave him a friendly nod of approval. James quickly wrapped his arms around her and they hugged. When she felt him sigh, it bothered her; it was _not_ a sigh of contentment. She pulled away and caught his saddened face before he was able to affix a false smile.\n\n\"Vera?\" she asked quietly.\n\nHe nodded his head. She didn't need to say anything else, nor did he. They both understood his feelings and regrets for the current situation of the young woman. As empathy passed over her, Arinai led him to the couch, and took the time to listen to her oracle as he told her about his lover. He was still worried, and as he spoke, Arinai had to smile. She had waited a long time for this moment—the moment she would meet the man who had made her—but in all that time, she had never expected to like him so much.\n\nArinai eventually took her leave, and James gladly allowed it; he needed his privacy. When she was gone, he pondered the situation again and concentrated on the question he was asking himself. It was confusing, and he had a difficult time defining it. This meeting was right, he could feel that. What he couldn't feel was why it was right. Of course, that answer all depended on what problem he was trying to solve and what the final solution might be.\n\nHe hadn't lied to his friends: he didn't know what the outcome would be. He just knew that this was a solution. Some force of nature was answering his call—his wish to know an answer. Perhaps it was his shadows, which even now began to enter the room after vacating in lieu of Camulas and Arinai. Now, his shadows were the only company he didn't demand should leave.\n\nJames continued to consider his questions and his solutions, trying to determine exactly what to expect from this meeting. Whatever force was answering his call—whatever was offering this answer—he knew it was apathetic to his life. He had asked it for a solution and it had given him one. He had immediately known, and now more fully realized, that the solution might be his death. If that happened, whatever force that had answered his call would consider its job done as requested.\n\n### Chapter 23\n\nVera sensed something was wrong. She could smell it, and her nose deformed slightly in order to enhance the scent. She knew that odor and anger flashed in her mind as she tried to place it. The house was dark, and she moved lithely through it to the downstairs living room. Once there, she found what she expected, sitting on the couch and waiting for her arrival. Vera had been quiet. No sound had been made as she move, and she was now bathed in her shadows; her shadows that were betraying James by following her. However, the lack of sound from Vera didn't deter her guest.\n\n\"James is about to do something very foolish,\" Arinai said, \"and I fear that he will need your help.\"\n\nVera didn't respond to the statement.\n\n\"Help may be the wrong word,\" Arinai corrected herself. \"I think he will need something much more than that. He'll need your forgiveness.\"\n\nStill, Vera didn't respond.\n\n\"When you saw us the other night, we were comforting each other,\" Arinai explained. \"It was a friendly hug, not a hug of lovers. You should know that he cares very much for you.\"\n\n\"Liar,\" was the soft reply.\n\nArinai couldn't see Vera, but the sound of a voice allowed her to address the correct part of the room, and Vera watched as the woman cast about in the darkness for her.\n\n\"It's not a lie, and you would do well to believe it. You should at least take the time to talk to him and make a more rational assessment of the facts.\"\n\n\"You think I'm being stupid?\"\n\n\"I think you're being emotional, and you would not be the first woman to lose someone over a mistake in perception.\" Arinai said as she searched for her conversationalist. \"Where are you?\"\n\n\"Here,\" was the reply, and Vera let her shadowy form appear for Arinai. It wasn't enough for great detail, but it was enough to reveal exactly where she was in the room.\n\n\"How did you get into my house?\" Vera asked.\n\n\"Efficiently,\" Arinai replied.\n\n\"And what did you do to me the other night? That noise was painful.\"\n\n\"So I have heard,\" Arinai replied, chuckling as she did. \"However, if you wish to discuss talents, I would ask that you reveal yourself. I should like to see what you have become.\"\n\nVera laughed. \"I'm sure you would.\"\n\nThe shadow figure didn't move, nor did it change in appearance. Arinai waited a moment, but when Vera didn't reveal any more of herself, she continued her talk.\n\n\"He plans a meeting with everyone,\" Arinai said. \"All the demons that can attend. He wants to propose a truce. I personally feel this is being done out of ignorance—he doesn't understand what he's doing. I have tried to convince him of the folly of this plan, but I have failed. You may have better luck.\"\n\n\"Why should I get involved? He may be right. Besides, I don't care.\"\n\n\"Now who is lying?\" Arinai asked, skeptical of Vera's utterance. \"I think you do care. You're angry, that's certain. But if James should fall, then you'll have another grave to stand over. You may want to consider that possibility. As for his being right, you have firsthand experience of what could happen with only three of our kind in close proximity. Now, try to imagine twenty, or thirty, or more.\"\n\n\"Will Badir be there?\" Vera asked weakly, she could still feel the vampire in her mind from time to time, but the connection was not weakening. Or perhaps she was strengthening and blocking him out.\n\n\"Most likely,\" Arinai replied, \"but you don't need to be there. I only ask that you meet with James. Please, try to get him to move from his apartment, or get him to wait and see what else develops—anything but this.\"\n\nThey sat in silence for a moment before Vera moved away, heading for the stairs. She was full of mixed emotions as she walked—fear of the present and fear of the future, as well as anger and remorse. An odd sense of peace suddenly came to her as she decided to do nothing for the moment. That peace was slowly overridden by a sly determination of what she would do in the days to come. She paused at the bottom of the stairs and addressed her uninvited guest.\n\n\"Get out of my house,\" she said as she mounted the steps and headed to her sister's room.\n\n### Chapter 24\n\n\"Nervous?\" Arinai asked.\n\n\"Not at all. Besides, I'm the Oracle.\"\n\nJames was teasing her, and she could only smile and shake her head. Camulas wasn't amused at all. He looked sideways at the couple and rolled his eyes, sighing audibly.\n\n\"Camulas, I know you're upset, but let's just get his over with,\" Arinai said.\n\n\"This is very unwise,\" he responded, being kind in his wording as he glared through the darkness to the parking garage across the way. The street they were on represented the highest level. From here, they would have to descend into the structure.\n\n\"I thought you said you liked this location? You said it would make a good defensive location.\"\n\n\"If I were holding it with my own troops, of course it would!\" he exclaimed. \"But you don't invite the enemy into the stronghold and then try to fight, and just look around you. There are few exits, and while the open air feel of the parking garage is nice for overlooking the waterfront, it's strategically weakened by the chain link fencing on each level. That fencing is great at keeping vandals and animal life out of the structure, but inside, with enemy combatants, it will only serve to restrict movement. This is a very poor location, Oracle. Unless you plan to slaughter everyone, you would be better served by having this gathering on the top of the structure.\"\n\nJames looked across the way and examined the area that Camulas was nodding to. The sun had set long ago, but the night lights offered enough illumination to make out details. The garage itself was built into the hillside of the waterfront so that the top level was actually at the ground level near First Avenue. A public park had been built on the top floor of the garage, giving pedestrians a pleasant place to eat, walk, or just enjoy the view of the Olympic Mountains across the Sound. Green grass and small pathways led to and fro, while a singular and very old tree broke the open terrain.\n\n\"No,\" James said quietly as he turned his gaze to the darkened entrance of the garage. \"This is what I need.\"\n\nHe could feel his shadows approaching and watched as they danced around the tree and surrounding shrubbery. He wasn't sure what they were doing, but they seemed to enjoy the life forms that were oddly clinging to the concrete structure just a few feet below. James could even get a feel for the tree's root system as the shadows explored the life system of the old timber.\n\nReaching out with his mind, he felt for Arinai's music and added his own thoughts to it. They were calling to their brethren, and many were answering the summons. Even now, the parking structure was filling; to Camulas' chagrin, it was being done so in a peaceful manner. It was curiosity that brought them, and a hope that their questions would be answered.\n\nWhy was Seattle Summoning?\n\nThe trio could wait no longer, and the three of them left their place of observation. James had kept them shrouded with a command to be ignored, and it appeared to have worked fairly well. As they approached, he slowly lifted the disguise, making no sudden moves and giving the demons time to adjust to their arrival.\n\nCamulas held onto Arinai and spoke into her ear.\n\n\"I don't trust this,\" he said. \"Stay close to me. I will pick out an exit point and if needs be, you will follow me.\"\n\n\"You wish to retreat?\" she asked. \"I would have thought you were braver than that.\"\n\nCamulas squeezed her arm in anger as he kept pace. \"Don't fight me on this, Goddess,\" he seethed. \"It's not fear, but sound strategy. We will be outnumbered and fighting forces with varied and unknown powers. If I have to, I won't retreat, I will run, and you would be wise to follow the tactical advice of a man that has defeated as many Roman legions as I have.\"\n\nArinai nodded her head in agreement as they headed down the open-air entry ramp to the parking garage. They were soon below the public park and entered the darkness of the structure. Arinai gasped in awe as she saw many of her kind.\n\n\"Problems?\" James whispered.\n\n\"No,\" she replied in reverence. \"It's just been so long since I've seen them that even this ill-conceived meeting gives my heart some joy. I didn't realize how lonely I had been for their presence.\"\n\nJames nodded his head and looked about the group. He saw Drake, Badir, and Alicia. They were joined by another of their kind, who James had never met. The raven was also there, and to her side was a crow. James had to smirk as it eyed him warily, before hopping another foot away from him. The raven, not so fearful, smiled wickedly at James. James could sense jealousy from Arinai, and when he turned to her, he watched her eyes turn to slits—she did not like that raven.\n\nCamulas noted the area from a military mind and found his points of position, quietly pointing them out to his companions. He had already visited this location and scouted it after James revealed the meeting's location. James watched the man find his chalk marks on the floor, placed there as reference points for battle. With subtle movements, Camulas ensured that James and Arinai were in what he called the _protected zones_ —areas of the garage marked off by orange chalk rather than white.\n\nJames tried to remain calm and appear confident. This was a difficult task to perform while fighting his bladder, which wanted to relieve itself. He hoped that no one sensed that particular weakness. As he looked about, he smiled slightly. Everything that he saw was amazing. The dim lights of the garage cast shadows everywhere, while his own shadows from the tree roots above began to permeate the room. No one but himself saw it.\n\n_Just as expected_.\n\nThat foreign thought entered his mind and he cast about for its meaning _. Why? Why was it expected?_ Those questions raced into his mind, but he had no answer.\n\nHe hadn't expected this, so why would some voice in his head think that he had. It was an unusual thought produced by his fracturing mind. James couldn't locate its origins.\n\nConcentrating on a controlled blink, James closed his eyes, and when he opened them the area was filled with light and color. Each being had its own aura—some lighter than others, and some with more hues. The raven was much as before; her hair was a little more alive, and he could see her clothes were that same extension of her feathers, rippling as they shrouded her naked form. Her companion was anything but a normal crow and appeared to vacillate in her form. It was still a crow, but he could see a ghost-like after image of the woman the form represented.\n\nThe vampires, or Dearg, also appeared much the same, with enhancements to their eyes and faces, while other creatures appeared vastly different. The succubi and incubi had lost their human appearance and were more demon-like; Pixies could be seen clinging to walls; the hell hound lost its false pretense and appeared to be ghost-like with a bluish vapor surrounding its body.\n\nAround the room, James turned and gazed at the wonders before him. He could feel their minds, and he took a moment to delve into the more simple creatures; they didn't even suspect that he was invading them, watching passively while their lives opened up to him. He witnessed a sprite dance across the waterfalls of her youth, and a troll gaze at the moon from under the bridges of ancient Edinburgh.\n\nArinai had to bring him to his senses, and James blinked again, replacing his images with the more mundane ones of normal reality.\n\n\"I wish to thank you all for coming this evening,\" he began. \"It's very late, a fact which means little to some of you, and a difficult feat of staying awake for others. I can sense your tiredness. I can also sense those of you that are alert, and I can sense your curiosity. I sense all of this, because I am the Oracle.\"\n\nJames felt like a liar. Not only did he feel like one, but he truly believed it was a lie. However, they had practiced this speech, he and Arinai, and he knew that, like the Oracle of Delphi, he would need to employ deceit.\n\n\"Many of you feel my presence. When I allow it, anyway.\" Another lie, but he continued. \"And you have followed me to my home and around the city. Some of you have seen me, others have not. But you're here now because I have called you. Our world is changing and you want answers. I may be able to provide those answers. But not now. Not like this. Like the oracles of the past, I will lay down rules and you'll abide by them. I will also remain neutral. I don't want to be placed in the middle of your challenges, so leave me out of them.\" He paused for effect and to gauge how his words were being perceived. He looked to Arinai; she was safe with Camulas at her side, and very near the exit.\n\n\"I will also give you a warning,\" he said. \"Violate my rules, and I will provide you nothing. Attack me, as I was recently attacked by a Dearg and a crow, and there will be consequences.\"\n\n\"And what will be those consequences?\" Badir asked of the room and the speaker.\n\nDrake's eyes widened, and he held his friend in place.\n\n\"This is no time to be rash, my friend,\" Drake said.\n\n\"I survived the last encounter,\" Badir spat, pulling free from Drake. James raised his eyebrows with concern. \"Yes, Oracle, I remember the attack, and I doubt the strength of the man before us.\"\n\nJames smiled, attempting to project strength, but he didn't immediately answer Badir. He knew his next speech. He would beseech each member for protection, and they would all give it. An attack by one would be met by a counterattack from the rest; at least that was the hope. He smiled at Badir and chuckled at the man's asinine question about what the consequences would be, but he didn't know why he chuckled at the Dearg. He just did, and as he did, his laughter increased becoming difficult for him to stop.\n\nThe consequences will be most dire.\n\nThe thought entered his mind, and the words left his lips soon after. He had no idea why he said it or where the words came from, but they did come.\n\nThe few lights in the garage began to flicker, and tendrils moved from the roots above. They extended into the area and felt along the inhabitants. Confusion could be seen on the faces or the humanoid figures, while the shuffling of feet or odd movements expressed the same feelings in the others.\n\nThe open-air entryway of the garage darkened and the outside night was gone. In its place was a moving wall of shadow and through that wall could be heard approaching footsteps.\n\nThud! Thud! Thud!\n\nThey approached, and everyone turned to look. The slow, methodical nature of the steps gave the impression of a being with no rush, no hurry, and infinite patience. Camulas grabbed the arm or Arinai and glared at James.\n\n\"We have been betrayed,\" he whispered.\n\nArinai put her hand to Camulas' and soothed him with music. She didn't share his sentiment.\n\nJames, like the others, stood dumbfounded by the events, and as he watched the moving wall of shadow, wisps of darkness began to separate and allow a small opening. The thudding continued, and James could only think of how odd the sound was. They were footsteps to be sure. However, the ground was concrete, and what he heard was the unmistakable sound of a large person walking determinedly across hardwood floors—the deep reverberating thud was very distinct.\n\nThe darkness continued to part and a figure began to emerge, striding in unison with the thudding and accompanied by her shadows, many of which extended from her body, joining with others that appeared to be completely external but companions in spirit.\n\n_My god, they're still protecting her_ , James thought as Vera came into view.\n\nHer protectors began to evaporate, retreat, and reveal their hidden treasure. She was barefoot, but other than that she was well dressed. She wore loose-fitting but tailored pants, which complimented the satin and lace blouse. The cleavage shown was tasteful, and accentuated by a pendant necklace that matched her earrings. Those earrings were easily visible and framed by her curled and brushed hair. All of this was set off with the slightest touch of makeup.\n\n_Beautiful_ , he thought as he watched her approach.\n\nJames marveled for a moment. Gone was her child-like face; the musculature of her cheeks and tone of her skin had changed ever so slightly. Her demeanor and focus of mind aided the illusion, and he could only think that she appeared many years older. It was a maturity he had only seen develop this rapidly when young women gave birth and became mothers—the responsibility of motherhood forced them to face the realities of life.\n\nThe thudding dissipated as she came to a stop and surveyed the crowd. She took her time, scrutinizing each creature as they scrutinized her. They didn't know what to make of the figure before them. It was new, they could tell that much, but it was also confusing to them.\n\n\"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,\" Badir said casually as he strutted closer. \"Vera Linn, if I'm not mistaken. The police have sure made a fuss about our last misunderstanding, and that has certainly put a crimp on my activities. It's nice to see that you recovered so well. If you should ever like a re-match, just let me know.\"\n\nHe smiled wickedly, and the leering stare of his eyes could be felt by everyone, especially the recipient of the stare. Vera said nothing; she only turned her head from side to side as she watched Badir and his cocky expression. For a moment, everyone held their breath.\n\nJames felt the awkward pause and was about to approach Vera when his body locked in position. He couldn't move, but he could envision the next few moments of life. It was plain to him: the solution was before him, and as it hit him, he could only think a single thought.\n\n_Oh, damn_.\n\nVera moved faster than almost anyone could perceive, and much faster than Badir could react. He tried, but her leap had caught him off guard, both by its velocity and its audacity. He hadn't expected the small figure before him to be a threat, a mistake he was now paying for.\n\nThe creature that left the ground wasn't the same that arrived at her prey's location. Her hair was thicker and red, tinged with streams of violet. Her skin was now a vibrant green and blue, much darker in some areas than others, with sections that were only one color or the other, which then mixed with a blending of the two at her torso.\n\nShe landed, and simultaneously a large mouth unhinged as double rows of jagged teeth bit into Badir's neck and shoulder. The nearest spectators were showered with flying debris from the concrete floor that exploded into shards as her taloned feet dug in for leverage.\n\nThose talons had a difficult time due to the brittle nature of the material, and a second talon unhinged from her Achilles and anchored her to the floor. Strong, tendoned arms wrapped around Badir and dug into his spine, while similar talons as those from her legs unhinged from her wrist and dug into his back. Bone and flesh could be heard giving way to the attack of keratin hardened claws.\n\nBadir couldn't move, and the last anyone saw of his living consciousness was the complete look of surprise as Vera lifted him backward, using her secured feet for leverage, and pulled her arms wide. Badir was ripped into three pieces. Sinew, bones, and jagged flesh were scattered about the vibrantly colored demoness who even now had Badir's upper torso held by her clenched jaw.\n\nShe dropped the torso, unhinged her jaw, and a long red tongue darted out and licked the blood from her face, much like a lizard would lick its own eye. The tongue retracted suddenly while she took a deep breath and let out a mind piercing shriek. Every beast in the garage was in pain, and when the scream ended, Vera's large orbital eyes darted from one beast to another.\n\n\"Everyone, get the hell out of here,\" yelled Arinai.\n\nAn instant of silence was followed by a sudden instinct to survive, and the room became chaotic. James felt beasts moving past him, but they kept their distance from him. The chain link fencing was ripped from its anchors and pushed aside, and more than one section was hit hard enough to create a large hole by whatever beast had decided to leave without waiting for the removal of the barrier. The common thread of the evacuation was simple: they didn't know what this beast was, but they sure as hell weren't going to be its next victim.\n\nArinai paused for a second and moved towards James, but a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her backward. She tried to fight Camulas, but he was too strong. A blast of music hit his mind and he closed it to her. It had been a long time since that trick had worked on him, and it was certainly not going to work tonight. He put her over his shoulder and moved out of the garage, up the ramp, and out onto the street. He allowed his captive to kick and scream. He didn't care; he would save her to live another day.\n\nA bird's eye view is what the raven now had. She had been able to leave very quickly and watched from the rooftop of a building farther up the street. From here, she could see the last remnants of the fleeing beasts. Those too slow or too stupid to move were straggling, but at least they were being allowed to move. A crow alighted near her and she turned a keen eye to her sister.\n\n\"This one is very clever and very dangerous,\" she said. \"He used his beast to demonstrate just how powerful he is and what kind of force he can command. And he has made one rule very clear. _Mess with me and I will tear you apart_.\"\n\nShe laughed as she thought about her new playmates. This was going to be fun. Badir had certainly been torn asunder, and she enjoyed the death of the idiot who dared challenge a god. She continued to consider her rapist and lust filled her eyes as she watched over the garage.\n\n\"Oh, I like this Oracle,\" she said. \"He could have tried for peace. Instead, he shows us force and kills a beast that had wronged him in the process. He demonstrated his power and handed out justice in one fell sweep, killing two birds with one stone.\" She smiled as she admired the man now hidden behind concrete and metal. Her sister cawed next to her; she didn't appreciate the reference to killing birds.\n\nJames was now alone with Vera—he could sense no other beings nearby—and she turned to him slowly. Those large eyes seemed vacant, and her demonic face was difficult for him to look at, but he did. He held her gaze and walked carefully to her. He wasn't sure what she would do, but he moved anyway.\n\nHer breathing was loud and heavy, and her head tilted from side to side in fluid motions as he approached. He got close enough to reach out to her, and she reacted slightly. He pulled back his reach and leaned in with his torso.\n\n\"Vera,\" he said.\n\nShe bared her teeth, and a guttural noise escaped her throat. It was ancient in tone, young in experience. They each leaned toward one another, and James could say only one thing. Like his faith in this meeting, he somehow knew it was right. He looked at his lover, and his face saddened by what he saw.\n\n\"Vera,\" he said once again. \"Please forgive me for what I have done to you.\"\n\nVera jerked back as if struck and let out a yell as if in pain. James felt for her mind and sensed rage. She didn't want his pity, and she didn't want his love. All she wanted was to hate him, but she couldn't.\n\nShe stopped her scream and looked to the vampire whose blood and body was covering the ground. The demon that had torn her world apart was now torn apart himself, but that fact didn't dissipate her anger. She hated these demons, she hated being alone, and she hated that her sister was dead. Her thoughts fed on each other and increased in force as they circled about her mind.\n\n\"She's not dead,\" James whispered.\n\nVera startled, blinked rapidly and hissed in confusion.\n\n\"My shadows...,\" he began before looking downward and taking a deep breath. \"Our shadows protected her,\" he said, bringing his gaze back to her. \"What we saw was an illusion. Anna escaped the attack, and when Arinai found her, she took your sister and put her in hiding. She is alive, Vera.\"\n\nVera appeared confused, uncertain how to handle this news. Her demon form rippled as it fought to understand this new form of hell. Finally, she let out a shriek of exasperation and fled. James could barely see the movement. One moment she was there, another moment the shadows moved and she was gone. He could still sense her, though.\n\nHe ran to the entryway, exited the structure, and then began to head up to the street, but she was already disappearing into the night. He could feel her leaping on powerful legs and finding purchase on the buildings before her; the softer substance that many of them were made of allowed her talons to dig in much easier than with the concrete, and she moved with a speed that boggled him. It was only a matter of moments before she was too far for him to feel. A minute later, Arinai and Camulas joined him. Upon their arrival, he clouded them all from view and they spoke.\n\n\"If you ever try that again, Oracle, I will take my blade to you and be damned about the consequences.\"\n\n\"That wasn't my intention. I had no idea that Vera would be here. I really wanted this truce, and if that failed...\" he didn't finish his sentence.\n\nArinai was rapidly losing patience. She had been much more lenient than Camulas, but it was time to talk straight.\n\n\"If that failed then what? You would let them kill you? You would side with one of them, like that raven?\"\n\n\"No, I was going to make you all forget about me,\" he said.\n\nCamulas and Arinai were stunned into silence for a moment. Neither one of them understood what he was saying.\n\n\"I was going to send out a group message to forget me, to ignore me forever,\" he said, and when they offered him blank expressions he decided to explain his thinking. \"I keep telling you I'm not a man of action. I don't want to die, or take sides, or get involved in any way whatsoever. I don't want a fight—I just want to be left alone. So I figured if I could gather as many of you in one location as I could, then I could send out a mass ignore request. If that worked, then your memory of me would be gone and there would be no one to even whisper about my presence.\"\n\n\"And you were going to do this with Camulas and myself there as well?\"\n\n\"It would hardly be effective if someone escaped and remained in my life,\" he said simply.\n\nArinai looked away. She felt like she had been punched, and James could see her hurt. In one sense Camulas was right—they had been betrayed. Oddly, Camulas didn't see it that way. He laughed out loud and continued to chuckle as he shook his head. When he stopped, he asked a simple question.\n\n\"Would it have worked?\"\n\n\"I have no idea. It was a Hail Mary, but I've been practicing the technique for the last several days. It might have worked very well.\"\n\nCamulas nodded his head.\n\n\"A very bold and ingenious move, Oracle,\" he said. \"I will commend you on the thinking. I now understand the reason to get everyone so close and in such a confined area. I see that I underestimated your tactical mind. It was as if you wanted to deploy a bomb, and it was so obvious I'm amazed I missed it. I now have only myself to blame for falling for such a ruse.\" He laughed again and appeared genuinely amused, slapping James on the shoulder and leading him away.\n\nArinai watched them go. She wasn't so amused, and she glared at the men as they walked. She had believed that she was much more important to her oracle than she now perceived herself to be. As they left the area, she hid her feelings from James. She felt betrayed and was angered by it. But more revealing to her psyche was how upset she was at the realization that she meant so little to him; that he could make her forget him; that he wanted her to forget. That realization saddened her, but she hid it well, and James, for as wise and powerful as he was becoming, didn't sense it.\n\n### Chapter 25\n\nIt rained softly, and several of the mourners opened umbrellas to protect themselves. Vera didn't. Instead, she watched the casket of her mother as the bearers moved it past her, but she didn't follow it as it continued on. Her parents were gone, and for that matter, so was her sister; she had been found, of course, unconscious and relegated the status of a Jane Doe in a hospital bed.\n\nVera looked down at her hands and the stuffed animal that she held. She tugged at an ear and concentrated on nothing but the feel of the material, ignoring the rain much as it ignored her.\n\nAcross the field, she was watched and cared for.\n\n\"Will she be alright?\" James asked.\n\nArinai wished she could comfort him, but she didn't know how to answer the question.\n\n\"She is strong. She will be just fine,\" Camulas stated as they observed the grieving woman.\n\nThey were all fascinated by her—for the demon that she was, for enduring the pain of the funeral, and especially for the courage it had taken to walk into that garage.\n\n_Like she owned it_ , Arinai thought.\n\n\"Well, it may not be the best solution,\" Camulas said. \"But you were certainly right. It was a solution. I'm curious to know how you predicted such a positive outcome.\"\n\n\"Positive?\" James asked skeptically. \"Vera still hates me. Badir is dead. And the others are afraid of me. How can you call that positive?\"\n\nCamulas chuckled and slapped James on the shoulder. The shorter man flinched from the pain.\n\n\"It achieved your desired result to be left alone,\" he said. \"In the last several days, not a single creature has dared to be near you. They believe that you and Vera represent a new power base, and no one wants to test that assumption. Like you said before—it's a solution.\"\n\n\"Well, it may not go down in history as the best prediction of an oracle, but it's sure to go recalled as a memorable one,\" James replied, before turning more serious. \"Not that I'm admitting to being an oracle.\"\n\nCamulas laughed to himself before replying, \"Gonna go down swinging, I see. That's fine.\"\n\nArinai changed the subject.\n\n\"We've more important things to worry about,\" she said. \"Our actions, small as they may be, are attracting attention. The police have their murderer of the Monroes, but now they have to explain his death. The government for some reason knows about Dearg venom, and I would be willing to bet that the Italian company involved with that detail has ties to Rome; the Bishop will be coming. In fact, he's already being dispatched and will be here in the next few months, once he makes his preparations.\"\n\n\"Dispatched?\" asked James, before closing his eyes and concentrating. \"I'm not powerful enough to sense this man. Maybe it's because he's from Rome. How is it that you know about his coming?\"\n\nArinai looked slightly confused, and then waved her cell phone for him to see. James turned red with embarrassment and shook his head.\n\n\"I'm very old and have friends around the world,\" Arinai said. \"I can assure you that he is being sent. He will take time to gather what he needs. The Vatican will not rush this operation, but they will come, and when they do they will spread their dogma without prejudice.\"\n\n\"It will be war,\" said Camulas.\n\n\"I don't want war. I've already told you that.\"\n\n\"You may have no option, Oracle,\" Arinai said. \"The Bishop is a man of his God, and that God has been known to be vengeful. The Bishop will come here, and if he finds you, he will do whatever he can to kill you or capture you. And trust me, he is very good at it. Like none I have ever seen.\"\n\nJames bent his head and considered the news. It didn't make him happy, that was obvious. After contemplating the issue, he refocused his gaze onto the funeral before him, and Arinai followed his line of sight. Vera was staring straight, with her head cocked at an angle.\n\n\"She is very pretty today,\" he said. \"Sad, but very pretty.\"\n\nArinai smiled slightly.\n\n\"Yes, she is,\" she said.\n\nVera's hair moved imperceptibly as her ear retracted. She didn't care to hear anymore; she had learned enough for now. This Bishop, whoever he was, was someone that she was very interested in meeting, and as she considered her options, her hand went to her chest and the crucifix that lay upon it. She felt the irregularities of the metal and the small figure of her savior that was affixed to it. Bending her head, she shed a tear for her life that was now in shambles.\n\n### Here ends book one\n\n### Book Two\n\n### Celtics Rising\n\n# Rise of the Ver'lin\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n### A DIVISION OF SOULS\n\nA novel of the Mendaihu Universe\n\n### by Jon Chaisson\n\nSmashwords 2nd Edition\n\nCopyright 2015, 2016 Jon Chaisson\n\nAlso in the Mendaihu Universe:\n\nThe Persistence of Memories\n\nThe Balance of Light\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you're reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. If you enjoyed this book, feel free to leave a review!\n\nTable of Contents\n\nChapter One -\n\nChapter Two -\n\nChapter Three -\n\nChapter Four -\n\nChapter Five -\n\nChapter Six -\n\nChapter Seven\n\nChapter Eight\n\nChapter Nine\n\nChapter Ten\n\nChapter Eleven\n\nChapter Twelve\n\nChapter Thirteen\n\nChapter Fourteen\n\nChapter Fifteen\n\nChapter Sixteen\n\nChapter Seventeen\n\nChapter Eighteen\n\nChapter Nineteen\n\nChapter Twenty\n\nChapter Twenty-One\n\nChapter Twenty-Two\n\nChapter Twenty-Three\n\nChapter Twenty-Four\n\nChapter Twenty-Five\n\nChapter Twenty-Six\n\nChapter Twenty-Seven\n\nChapter Twenty-Eight\n\nChapter Twenty-Nine\n\nChapter Thirty\n\nBridgetown Tourist Guide to Anjshé\n\nAn Anjshé Glossary\n\nAcknowledgements\n\nAbout the Author\n\nCHAPTER ONE\n\n_Nehalé_\n\ndehndarra Né hra nyhndah.\n\nNehalé Usarai let out a nervous breath and slowly opened his eyes, fighting back a severe bout of vertigo. The view from the maintenance walkway was certainly breathtaking, more so than he'd ever imagined...he'd seen the vidmat images and tourism apps countless times, but it was nothing compared to seeing the real thing with his own eyes, sensing it with his own soul. He stood on the one hundred forty-second level of the Mirades Tower in the center of the city, the tallest building in Bridgetown, letting his soul take in every ounce of vibrant energy it could. This city was his lifeline, his anchor to everything and everywhere. The northern half of the nighttime Bridgetown Sprawl laid itself out before him, a miles-wide tapestry of boulevards and buildings glowing with life, both physical and spiritual, and he felt each one. Thousands of illuminated thoroughfares laced through the city like golden chains, linking the islands of office towers and skyscrapers and suburbs spread out across the different districts of the city.\n\nIts citizens were out en masse on this humid Friday September night, hundreds of thousands of souls, awake and aware of the world around them. Masses of people cluttered the sidewalks of the main thoroughfares, keeping the vibe alive. The late summer weather brought out all the myriad walks of life that inhabited this world, a cultural and spiritual interchange of Earther and _Meraladhza_ that made up everyday life on Earth. He could only wonder how it felt to know, to _sense_ it all intimately, to know they were alive and breathing, what they were feeling, thinking. As a Mendaihu empath, he certainly had the ability to do so...but he had not dared to intrude upon their privacy. He could only speak to them, teach them. Awaken them so they could further learn on their own.\n\nIt was almost a pity he wouldn't be able to enjoy this energy flow for much longer.\n\n_Edha Usarai,_ he heard within.\n\nStartled by the unexpected innerspeak of another empath nearby, he instinctively grabbed hold of a nearby guardrail to catch himself. He hadn't expected anyone to sense him all the way up here. _Who is this?_\n\n_I am Shirai,_ the voice said. A female voice, speaking calmly and evenly. _Please, edha, take care on the walkway. There are high winds up here tonight, and it is dangerous to be out there without being tethered._\n\n_Somfei, Shirai_ , he said warily. _I know who you are. You must have scanned me wandering through the server banks earlier. I assume you know why I am out here, then._\n\n_Yes, I do_ , she said, and lapsed into silence. He wondered whether or not he had just been caught, well before he even started. Shirai was a frighteningly strong presence in this area, bound and tethered to this Tower in her own way, and she could have had the Tower security on him in a matter of seconds. She had hesitated, however, and that had made all the difference. She had chosen to be impartial, as she had been programmed to be.\n\nHe let go of the guardrail again and leaned up against the black polycrete surface of the skyscraper. _You understand what it is that I must do, then,_ he said to her.\n\n_Yes, edha,_ she responded. _I understand._\n\n\"Good,\" he said aloud, knowing she had already ceased communication. \"And so it begins.\"\n\nHis eyes darted across the Sprawl. _I am doing this for all of you_ , he thought _._\n\nHe took a long, even breath. A second, slower. Centering his thoughts, his emotions, his spirit. Balancing himself between the soul within, and all the souls around him. Becoming one with the Sprawl. And using the strongest innerspeak he could muster, one that could reach vast distances into the minds and the hearts of those who were able to hear him, he began.\n\nTo all who can hear me below, those who can hear me within, I pray you listen and prepare: This is a Proclamation of Cleansing and Awakening.\n\nHe paused to gauge the reaction. Seconds later he felt a fast-growing number of spirits down there in that Sprawl, pricking up their ears and their soulhearing senses, listening closely. Many of them just below in the Main Street Sector, but even more who could hear him to the northeast, in the Waterfront. Enough for those to prepare if necessary. He smiled, and continued.\n\nI proclaim this Awakening in the Name of the One of All Sacred. I call forth the Spirits of the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, the Holiest Spirits of Trisanda. I call them both to begin the Awakening.\n\nLet it begin!\n\nHe started with a summoning. Nehalé closed his eyes and held out his hands, fingers wide, and took another very slow and deep breath. He let his spirit reach out to the thousands below him, as if silently asking for their assistance. They responded without question, sending their own gentle wave of life energy towards him, knowing full well what was to come, and welcoming it wholly. He could not suppress a smile as the energy flowed into his open hands, at first a trickle but growing exponentially until he could feel the weight in his fingertips. It felt like he'd dropped his hands in a swift river, the force consistent yet never destructive.\n\n... _allei aiya,_ he said in gesture of thanks. _I bless all of you._\n\nHe stood there for a good few minutes, taking in all of the energy that he could safely handle and balancing it within himself. He'd summoned this kind of power in the past, having performed countless Awakening rituals throughout his calling, but none to this magnitude. He had faith in himself, knew he'd be able to keep this delicate balance of life and spirit within his own mortal skin, despite the pain and the damage he'd feel after the ritual was completed. He had to have this faith...for he had faith in the one he was to awaken this evening. This was all for her.\n\n_I do this for you,_ he said. _I do this for all of you._\n\nHis fingertips ached and his palms began to burn from the constant energy intake. He was coming close to overflow at a frightening pace. He'd summoned much more than he'd expected, but it still felt far from adequate. Could he make this ritual happen with such a paltry amount? He needed just enough to start it, enough to prime the cycle and get it flowing. That had been his mission all along, and the reason why he was up here at this insane height. He was going to use the natural flow of the spirit winds that used the Mirades Tower as its river. All he needed to do was prime the Rain of Light and set it flowing at a faster pace. The acceleration would do the rest for him. Confident in his thoughts and actions, he closed off the summoning by balling his hands into tight fists. Slowly he drew them back until they were directly in front of his heart.\n\n_dehndarra Né hra nyhndah,_ he said. _It is time to open your eyes._\n\nHe nodded once to himself, and pushed opened hands out into the air. A shockingly intense wave of spiritual energy blasted out of them, the strongest he'd ever projected in his lifetime, enough to forcibly push him up against the Tower wall and nearly knock all the wind out of him. The pain in his palms was exquisite...it stung like all hells and he'd have scars afterwards.\n\nAlmost immediately the Tower began to tremble in response. It began as a subtle vertical shifting, but seconds later it grew in intensity to the point where he could feel a thick vibration under his feet, the plates of polycrete scraping and windows rattling all around him. He crouched slightly and adjusted his aching arms for balance, riding the vibrations as they passed. He couldn't let go, not just yet.\n\nSuddenly, and a hell of a lot quicker than he'd been expecting it, his inner sensing felt a surge of spiritual energy welling up within the Tower, pressing against its black polycrete skin, threatening to burst. The rattling intensified, an earthquake within the walls that could explode and cast Nehalé off with it. Skittering a little to his left and shifting the energy flow to one hand, he grabbed a railing with the other and gripped it tight. This was all expected, however. It wasn't going to be a quiet ritual, not by a long shot. He shut his eyes and prayed to the One that his strength would hold out. Minutes ticked by as the spiritual energy swelled and fused and pushed, frantically searching for an escape. He couldn't disconnect until the Rain of Light increased the flow on its own.\n\n_Not yet..._ he whispered within. _Not...yet..._\n\nDown below, the thousands of spirits whose calm attention he'd attracted had begun backing away, taking and guiding others with them. They may not have known what was coming, but they understood the consequences of being too close to the Rain right now. They were protecting their own souls and those around them. They were embracing this Awakening, just as Nehalé had expected. They knew what was going to happen, any moment now. They knew the importance of this ritual, and anticipated its outcome. They would not deny themselves the pleasure and the rarity of sharing this with the spirit it was so obviously for. If she was to be a part of this, they would also be, without question.\n\nFinally, far away in a quiet northern sector of the city, Nehalé felt something shift. He felt it within, a movement of Light and spirit, a soul stirring for the first time like an unborn child kicking within the womb. He shivered, first with surprise and then with elation. It was time, now. He let go of the handhold and lifted his hands one last time, palms open, and slashed through the air with a violent downward thrust, severing his own connection with the Rain.\n\n_Awaken!_ He cried out, to all who could hear. _Awaken!_\n\nAnd the Rain of Light responded, furious and unrestrained. The air _tore_ around him, slamming back into place with such force it sent a shockwave out into the city. Nehalé screamed, a guttural, primal scream of pure emotion he could not hold back. His soul felt as if it was being forcibly torn out of his body. He had anchored it the only way he could, to the Tower and the Sprawl...and he did all he could to make sure it stayed anchored until this was over. Down below, he felt hints of confusion and fear; lights flickered, transformers blew; windows rattled and shattered. Cars and transports stopped quick, tires squealing on pavement. Pedestrians stopped midstride and nearly fell. Then —\n\nFirst came the spirits...and for a brief second, the pain. Oh, Goddess, the _pain!_ Within the ancient spirits, and within the spirits of the millions of lives surrounding him, the release of forgotten barriers crashing down before him. It sent a wave of unbridled energy shooting up into the night sky. It washed over him, _through_ him, coursing through his nerves, pulling at his own soul and threatening to tear it free. He let out a cry, doubling over, fighting it before the pain claimed him.\n\nFinally he heard — and felt — the second clap of thunder, much louder and deadlier than the first, created by the displacement of air as spiritual energy suddenly became an enormous physical, bleeding crimson cloud, threatening to rain down on the sector below. The shockwave pushed Nehalé flat against the tower. It held him fast, forcing him to take short breaths until the pressure weakened. Eventually he managed to push himself up and off the wall, coughing and reaching for the railing again. He looked out over the city, his heart racing and his head spinning. The crimson cloud still held its place, circling quickly around the Tower, just a few levels below him. It held there like a thick fog, translucent yet no less ominous. This was pure spirit surrounding him now, a force beyond anyone's imagination...and it was angry.\n\nAnd for a second, again, he felt the pain. Nehalé felt the pain of spirits, Meraladian and human alike, screaming, writhing —\n\nThen, just as quickly, the pain of spirits lost. The feeling of essence ripped, siphoned out of him in an instant. He doubled over again, and did not lift his head again for many more minutes.\n\nI...I apologize, dearest beloved spirits...\n\nTime started again. He regained his bearings, and felt the sudden change in wind direction and temperature. The chill had been replaced by a stifling heat, nudging him against the Tower's side....and doubled by the bitter sting of the taken spirits. A sting that would stay with him forever.\n\nBut he felt it. _Love_.\n\nThousands, millions of Bridgetown citizens...suddenly waking out of slumber, or slowing in the street, or stopping in their workspaces...millions of citizens, feeling something, but not quite understanding what it was they felt. A curiously warm, protective feeling, but with a darker edge. A sudden awareness of their surroundings. A humbling compassion, but for what or whom they did not yet know. Then, just as quickly, it faded into their subconscious, before they could find a name or an emotion for it. But something had been altered...they knew something was there now. They were aware.\n\nThey had been Awakened.\n\nYes...yes! Nehalé trembled with joy. He could sense each of them now, fully and clearly without any hindrance. A veil had been lifted...the gauzelike barrier that divided so many souls in this world had dropped away to nothingness, revealing the true spirits within. Each one of them could see now...truly _see_ , for their inner senses had been cleansed and their eyes opened. They could now understand the true familial and spiritual connection between the Meraladhza and the Gharné. They were truly _free_ , these followers and protectors of the One of All Sacred.\n\nAnd now they, each and every one of them, could sense him as well. And they would be following him soon, eager and hungry for direction. And he would be there for them, always.\n\n...and out there, somewhere in one of the sections outside the shockwave's reach, past the cacophony of newly found inner voices down below, he felt her. The young woman, stirring and waking out of slumber, had crawled out of her bed with a feeling of sleepy disorientation, and stopped in her tracks halfway down the hallway, unsure of why she'd gotten up. He felt her growing concern, a nagging in the back of her mind that something had happened, something that had affected her deeply, yet she couldn't quite understand what it was. But she would, and soon. She was awake, like many of them now. Through his tears, he smiled again. His ultimate mission had been successful after all.\n\n_The One of All Sacred,_ he thought. _You have awakened...you are among us now!_\n\nCHAPTER TWO\n\n_Caren_\n\nCaren Johnson found herself in a faded version of the den in her childhood home again, sitting on the wide couch against the southern wall, hands on her lap, waiting for everything to fall into place. She surveyed the room and recognized each item from her past—the tall windows to her left that looked out over their meager back yard, the old lopsided recliner her dad loved so much, the family photos that hung over the mantel on the north wall. One of the windows was slightly open and a cool draft swirled around the room. The house was quiet, other than its usual clicks and creaks as it continued to settle on its foundation. She was in her spirit world again, her _lumisha dea_ of memories and emotions, and her place of inner peace.\n\nAcross the room, the translucent ghosts of her parents stood side by side in front of the brick fireplace, just underneath their family portrait, Celine's arm resting in the crook of Aram's right elbow...a rare physical showing of love. She warmed to this view, desperately happy to see them again each and every time. She had always wanted to join them in that embrace whenever she met them here, but she never dared. Instead she stood up and waited, reverent and patient. She knew this recurring visitation well. She had healed enough from their passing that this reunion had become a rite of passage. She had grown to accept it, even look forward to it. It was her last remaining connection with them.\n\n_Karinna,_ her father said. They always used innerspeak, the voice within. The true voice of the soul. The voice that could not lie. _We're so proud of you and Denysia._\n\n_Our lovely daughters,_ her mother said. _Aram...they've done so well._\n\n_I miss them dearly,_ he said. _I wish we could just be with them again._\n\n_I wish I could bring you back,_ Caren said, wiping a stray tear away from her eye. Damn it all, why did she always cry when she saw them? She was so much stronger than that! _I love the both of you so much._\n\nHer father held up a hand. _Shh, Karinna...it's okay, we know._\n\n_Please, Karinna,_ her mother said. _Please. Listen. You are going to have to be strong for us. For Denysia. You must remain her anchor, no matter what._\n\nShe stared at them, suddenly afraid. They'd never interrupted her before. _Wait...what do you mean? What is happening?_\n\n_It's time to awaken_ , he said, and smiled.\n\n\"Caren?\" the young girl murmured.\n\nShe twitched and slammed back into reality with a snort. Groggily she opened her eyes to a semi-darkened room that felt too warm. Her younger sister Denni stood patiently at the end of the bed, an unsure hand resting lightly on the corner bedpost as she waited for her to return to full consciousness. Caren sensed it wasn't exactly an emergency, but she couldn't help but wonder why her sister had come to wake her. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table...a little after one in the morning. She'd gotten almost three uninterrupted hours of sleep. Damn if that wasn't a new record.\n\n\"Caren?\" Denni said.\n\n\"Mmmm,\" she croaked. She rubbed dry, stinging eyes with the heels of her palms.\n\n\"Did...did you just call me?\"\n\nCaren exhaled a half-yawn. \"No, Denni. Go back to bed.\"\n\nDenni frowned and held herself close in the semi-darkness. \"I thought I heard you calling my name. You know, _that_ name.\"\n\nCaren froze. She rarely called her Denysia, her Mendaihu name. Their parents had given the both of them such names to remind them of who they were. They were sacred names, ones she would never use without a reason. She would not have called out to her in her sleep. \"No,\" she mumbled with a little more force than necessary. \"Nope, wasn't me. Go back to bed, kid. You got school tomorrow.\"\n\nDenni held back her words and snorted in frustration. \"Sure.\"\n\nShe closed her eyes and heard Denni leave. Belatedly she thought her visit was a bit odd and unexpected...the girl was in her mid-teens now, and she'd outgrown the childish habit of barging in quite a long time ago. Maybe she'd had a troubling visit to her lumisha dea tonight as well? Denni had been visiting it frequently lately, but it was nothing worrisome; she was merely growing up with the hint of Mendaihu blood in her. Letting it go, she rolled back over on her stomach and buried her head under her pillow, hoping she could get at least another few hours' worth of sleep. She willed herself not to think of anything that would get her brain going again, or she'd be wide awake for the rest of the night. She chose to focus on her sister's nearby presence instead...that always calmed her. As long as she knew where she was, and that she was safe, everything was right in the world.\n\nNot five minutes later, she sensed the wave of terrifyingly strong energy heading in their direction.\n\nShe recognized that wave signature instantly and shivered. She was up and out of bed a second later, rushing down the hallway towards her sister's room, but she was too late...the wave hit her squarely in her chest and sent her reeling towards the wall, head spinning. She cried out as it bled through her spirit like ice, awakening every nerve in her body, and she was powerless to stop it. Goddess, someone had just...!\n\nSeconds later she cried out again, this time in unbridled anger. Someone had performed one hell of a powerful awakening ritual in her city, and right now, thousands of people were feeling the exact same deep pain. She spat and cursed loudly. This was going to be her job for the next day, week, month — hell, this was going to take _years_ to put right. Goddess, the fallout was going to be a fucking mess! She swore again, looking down the darkened hallway. Denni stood at the other end, just outside her own door, leaning up against the opposite wall and staring blankly at her.\n\nOh Goddess...Denni...\n\n\"Stay there,\" she called out. \"Ride it out. Wait until it's over.\"\n\nDenni nodded slowly and pushed herself flat against the wall, forcing herself to breathe slowly and evenly. Caren could barely move herself, caught as she was in this soulhealing, but she fought through it and guided herself along the hallway towards her, step by agonizing step. She confirmed the energy signature now...an awakening ritual. She'd witnessed many in her time and been involved with them, but never one this extreme.\n\nHer parents had been warning her of this at her lumisha dea. Of _this_ , a forced awakening upon the city. On her people! Her fear returned to anger again, even as the ritual coursed its way through her soul. No one had the right to enforce an awakening on anyone against their will, and someone had just broken that cardinal rule. She was pissed at herself for not catching this person sooner...this was her city, her watch. This was her job and her fate with the Mendaihu blood within her. She should have stopped this bastard before...\n\n...before it hit her sister. This should not have happened. This should _not_ have happened.\n\n_Be strong..._ she heard her mother say. _For Denysia._\n\nWith a final shudder, the wave crested and calmed, leaving the two of them out of breath and utterly drained. Caren pushed herself forward and landed against the opposite wall, next to Denni. She reached out caught her sister's hand and held it tight. _Denni, can you hear me?_ she said in a quiet, even inner voice. She knew the girl could hear her...but she needed to know. _Are you okay?_\n\nShe shivered and nodded. She'd felt something but she wasn't quite sure what. \"I...I think so,\" she said aloud. \"...you?\"\n\nShe nodded, and pulled her sister into a tight embrace. Only then did she let down her guard, shuddering and tearing up. \"I'm fine, honey...I'm fine...\"\n\n*\n\nAlec Poe, her Alien Relations Unit partner, arrived soon after the shockwave subsided, and let himself into Caren's apartment. Together, the three of them stood in front of the wide living room window, staring at the unnatural halo now surrounding the Mirades Tower. They stood there wordlessly for a good long while, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The sanguine glow bathed her face...it was warm, like fire, and just as radiant in its energy. Almost comforting in its own strange way. There was no defined edge to the cloud, and she couldn't tell exactly where it had originated, but it seemed to have kept itself within Main Street Sector, halfway up the Tower. She stared at it both in fascination and horror...it looked like the sky had begun to bleed. Instincts kicked in: this had to be energy fallout...someone had released something dangerous.\n\nFinally she exhaled. \"One of All Sacred...\"\n\n\"Something like that,\" Poe said, and lit up a cigarette. The glow of the lighter caught his unshaven face at an angle, highlighting his strong jaw line and making his hazel-blue eyes sparkle. She nearly scolded him for smoking in her apartment, but the alien glow outside made her think otherwise. The point would have been moot. His own nerves must be shot right now. She didn't like his smoking habit, but it was his one stress release. She dug up an old coffee mug from the breakfast nook across the room and handed it to him. He graciously nodded, flicked fresh ashes in, and smiled.\n\nShe looked at her hands; they were trembling. Her whole body trembled. She couldn't make herself stop...this was her fear. And the last thing Caren wanted was for Denni to see her this way...she couldn't let Denni down. Taking a deep breath, she put on a brave face and glanced at Poe.\n\n\"What the hell happened out there?\" she asked.\n\n\"Mass Awakening Ritual, but I figure you'd guessed that already,\" he said. \"Farraway called me soon after it happened. Thought I'd offer you a ride to headquarters since you were on the way.\" In reality, her apartment was in the exact opposite direction. But they were partners, and if he came to pick her up, personal safety was a concern. It was better for her to be in his car than alone on her motorbike. He gave her a look that meant there were more things he had to explain, but not in front of Denni. She understood and nodded.\n\n\"Swell,\" she said behind a yawn, and started gathering her uniform together. She wouldn't make too big a deal out of this either, at least not until they were on the road. \"So what do you think — is it being contained, or is this cloud working its way somewhere? I mean, I'd like to know whether or not I should put my belongings in spatial storage.\"\n\nPoe grinned at the weak joke. \"No, it's contained.\" He looked out the window again. \"Interestingly enough, it pretty much contained itself.\"\n\nShe stared at him. \"Really? How does that work?\"\n\n\"It contained itself two miles away from the Tower at all points.\" He flicked ash into the coffee mug and made a circular gesture. \"A perfect circle. Like it was deliberately stopped before it could expand any further. Or hit a barrier.\"\n\nShe frowned. Not what she wanted to hear. \"Casualties?\" she asked.\n\nHe shot a quick glance at Denni, weighing his words. \"I, uh...I don't know that yet.\"\n\nShe grunted, pursing her lips in frustration, and headed into the bathroom to change into her uniform. It only took a few moments, but she deliberately took her time so she could think everything over. It was one thing to feel the aftershock of a major awakening ritual, but it was quite another for it to cause spiritual bleedover. It had been one hell of a strong energy blast, strong enough for the shockwave to hit her apartment nearly seven miles away and as hard as it did. This was definitely going to be a bitch of a case. She continued preparing herself for her job with a determined sense of purpose, even at this time of night and with so little sleep. Despite her frustration and exhaustion, she would never permit herself to be on duty without her heart in it. She checked her utilities, adjusted her overcoat, and returned to the living room. She loved this city, despite everything she loathed about it. It was her community, her life. And she did this most of all for her sister.\n\nAh, Denni...Caren's heart broke every damn time she had to do this. She pulled on her long overcoat and stepped back out into the living room. She gave Poe a look that meant he and his disgusting cigarette had better retreat before she threw him out. \"Right,\" she said quietly. \"Just give me a minute here.\"\n\nPoe nodded and stepped out into the hallway, closing the apartment door behind him.\n\n\"You have to go,\" Denni said flatly.\n\nDamn it all, the attitude wasn't helping. \"Yeah, I do.\"\n\nDenni glanced at the window, the reddened sky reflected in her eyes. \"Do what you have to do.\"\n\nShe bristled, stung by her words. \"Den, I —\"\n\n\"Sis, it's okay,\" Denni said, facing her again with a forced smile. \"I know the drill. I'll be okay. I can take care of myself.\"\n\nCaren finally gave in, nodding. Denni _was_ growing up. She was fifteen already and extremely self-reliant for her age. She'd stopped being the precocious five year old brat ages ago, and had matured considerably since their parents died. She could be just as angry, just as lost and frustrated as Caren herself, and she also knew how to make the best of a bad situation. She pulled her close into an embrace, kissing the top of her head.\n\n\"Go back to bed, kid,\" she whispered. \"I'll call in the morning.\"\n\n\"'kay,\" she murmured.\n\nShe pulled away, but could not let go of her, not just yet. \"Be good.\"\n\nDenni smirked at her. \"Oh, _please._ \" She pulled away and stumbled over to the couch. \"When do you think you'll be back?\"\n\nWay too damn late, by the looks of it. She refused to look to look out that damn window to hazard a guess. \"I really don't know...late morning, midafternoon, I hope. I'll call if it's going to be longer.\"\n\nDenni stretched and began sinking down onto the pillows. \"'kay,\" she said, stifling a yawn.\n\nShe watched her sister stretch out lazily, surprised and perhaps even a little worried. Perhaps she was exhausted by this rude awakening, but she couldn't help but think there may have been more to it. She didn't have time to think about it though, not with Poe waiting for her. \"Take care, kid,\" she said.\n\n\"You too,\" she mumbled, slumber already beginning to take over. \"Love you, Caren.\"\n\n\"Love you too, honey.\" She leaned over and gave Denni another peck. She smiled and took Caren's hand, squeezed it, and let go as they parted. She turned off the overhead light and shut the door quietly, and with a heavy heart and shaky breath she walked away, closing and locking the apartment behind her. Poe was at the elevator doors, staring at his feet and wringing his hands. She knew he hated to tear them apart like that. Any other time and Denni would have come first, no matter what, and he always stood by that. And she silently thanked him for it.\n\n*\n\nThey drove towards the Branden Hill headquarters of the Alien Relations Unit in silence. Caren was in no mood to talk, and thankfully Poe chose not to say anything. She stared out the window as they drove through the district, annoyed by the lack of any new information from their director, or from anyone else for that matter. The ARU radio frequencies were a chaotic mess, street patrols yelling over each other as they tried to make sense of what had just gone on downtown.\n\nThey drove past the main campus of Spender College, and she wasn't exactly surprised to see a large number of students milling outside on the grounds, smoking or talking. They moved warily, as if they'd all witnessed the awakening firsthand. She had to be seeing a relatively small percentage of students at that moment...Branden Hill was the academic center of the city, housing over a dozen colleges and schools large and small and the autumn semester had just started. The youngest would be the most affected by this ritual, and although the school was well out of the range of the crimson mist, no one knew just how far the spiritual wash had reached, or how strong it had been at this distance. She could only hope those kids would be able to grasp what had happened and not lose themselves in the process.\n\nThey pulled into the circular driveway at the ARU complex minutes later. The underground garage was desolate and unnervingly quiet. Very few vehicles remained from the evening shift...Caren wondered where everyone had gone. Perhaps some were at the scene already? Or they hadn't been called in yet? They heard the rear exit opening and closing and a few footsteps heading down the stairwell to a lower level. A few ARU cruisers also drove by at a coasting speed, their occupants waving as they passed. They _had_ to know about the cloud out there...but they'd shrugged it off as another busy night at the HQ. Perhaps she'd read them wrong?\n\n\"This doesn't feel right,\" Caren said, her voice small in the cavernous garage. \"You'd think we'd be All Hands by now.\"\n\nThe footsteps were heading their way. Nick Slater, part of Poe and Caren's second unit, emerged from the stairway threshold and joined them, exhausted and sore from a long shift. His ARU uniform was sweat-stained and rumpled, and he held his overcoat over his shoulder. There were dark circles under his gray eyes, and his short black hair was a flustered mess. \"Most of night shift is Downtown covering initial triage, but it's not being labeled an emergency,\" he said. \"No one else was called in. We may be going this one alone, the four of us.\"\n\nShe frowned at him. \"Seriously? A ritual like that?\"\n\nNick shook his head and shrugged; he wasn't happy about the situation either. He cleared his throat and rubbed at eyes with the heels of his hand. \"Sheila and I just came from downtown for initial recon,\" he continued. \"The cloud is spiritual bleedover from an awakening ritual, that much we already know,\" he said. \"Low levels are harmless. I've seen it before, down in South City, when the Shenaihu have their own rituals now and again. At this level, though? We're damn lucky it wasn't ground level. We'd have had a shitload of casualties.\"\n\nPoe lit up a cigarette, bemused. \"Granted, it _should_ be harmless, at least for us, anyway. Spiritual bleedover dissipates within the hour, so this should be gone by morning.\" He heard the faint echo of squealing tires navigating a parking garage switchback, and glanced over his shoulder. \"Is that Sheila I hear?\"\n\n\"Yeah...we're clocked out and going home,\" he said. \"We gave Farraway our report, you two were copied. There are witnesses in there who swear they recognized an energy disturbance before the blast. Tuned to Mendaihu essence.\"\n\nCaren winced. \"That can't be right. They wouldn't pull something like this. A proper awakening ritual, sure...but never something this catastrophic.\"\n\n\"That's what we're all thinking,\" he said, \"but that's what we're up against here. Either a renegade Mendaihu, or someone's decided to start something _big_. And dangerous.\"\n\nHe began to say something else, but the revving engine of a car coming up behind them drowned him out. A white unmarked patrol car pulled up alongside them, window sliding down and a mass of curly reddish brown hair popping out. Sheila leaned out and waved, an icy smile on her lips and fire in her dark brown eyes. She was not exactly in the best of moods. \"Welcome back, you two,\" she said. \"Farraway's inside waiting. Nick fill you in?\"\n\nCaren nodded. \"Hope you two know a back way back to Glover Court. Traffic's real _sa'im rhade_ towards downtown.\"\n\nSheila smiled at her and winked. \"You know me, I find a way.\" She waved at her partner and opened up the passenger side door. \"Let's go, Nick. Time to get the hell out of here.\"\n\nNick hurriedly said his goodbyes and climbed in. Poe hummed and took a drag from his cigarette, watching the car pull away and snake around the last switchback. \"Interesting,\" he said once they were gone.\n\nCaren caught the expression on his face—he was scowling. \"Mendaihu?\" she ventured.\n\nPoe snuffed out the cigarette on the pavement. \"Yeah.\"\n\nShe did not say anything more about it. She had expected a renegade _nuhm'ndah_ to be behind this, not the Mendaihu. She nudged him towards the entry elevator. \"Come on, let's get this over with. We won't find answers down here.\"\n\nThey took the main elevator up to the fourth floor, still unsettled by the quietness. Neither said anything, but it was just as well, because Caren's mind was already running in several directions, full of unanswered questions. Never mind asking who was behind it...what was their motive? Why an awakening ritual, and why now? Who were they awakening, and why? Was there someone in particular they were aiming for? Were they aware of the strength of ritual, and how many potential Mendaihu they may have affected? And why would a Mendaihu willingly perform a ritual of such magnitude? Was it to goad the Shenaihu into acting in kind? And if so, how would that unfold? She shook her head and forced herself to stop before she went crazy. The answers would come in due time.\n\n\"I'm getting a headache already,\" Poe said, cutting the silence, apparently reading her thoughts as the elevator doors slid open. His brow was a deep scowl, his focus not on the desolate hallway but in an undefined middle space ahead. \"I have a few...\" he trailed off, tapping a forefinger against his lips. He shook the thought away and exited the elevator.\n\nShe knew better than to ask. He was probably fielding the same unanswerable questions. She'd gotten used to his unfinished sentences, understanding that it wasn't so much distraction as it was his way of playing the thoughts out. He'd often start saying something, only to stop after a few words when he realized it wasn't the direction he wanted to go in. It was a little unsettling and frustrating, but he'd say what was on his mind sooner or later.\n\nThey found Chief Inspector Dylan Farraway's office door slightly ajar and very little light spilling out. The Chief wasn't one to dwell in darkness when things got heavy; he was a man who wanted the entire room illuminated with very little shadow. He paid attention to detail, and he wanted to make sure it was seen not just by him, but by anyone else who came in. But when they pushed the door open, they found his anteroom almost completely dark. His assistant Ellie had gone home for the evening quite a few hours ago, and apparently he had not bothered to call her back or get a secondary to fill in.\n\n\"He's been here all night...?\" Caren said, her voice just above a whisper.\n\n\"Wouldn't be the first time,\" he said. He gestured at the light below Farraway's inner office door — a sliver of dim light at the bottom. If he was in there, he was too blessed quiet about it. He prodded at Caren's shoulder and pointed at the door. She lifted her hand to knock, but held it there for a second, opening it up and exposing her palm. At the tips of her fingers, she felt a weak yet distinct wave of personal energy coming from within, much of it centered near the area where the man's desk would be. He was within, and he was fine.\n\nShe knocked quietly. \"Sir?\" she called. \"It's Poe and Johnson.\"\n\nFarraway's voice was unexpectedly calm. \"Come on in.\"\n\nShe turned to Poe again, this time with concern. He frowned, and gestured to the door. She pushed it open and found Farraway standing behind his desk, leaning against the low back of his chair. He acknowledged them with reddened eyes and a weak smile, and slowly, painfully, pushed himself up straight. He was clearly exhausted. Behind him, through his window and through the foyer, everything was bathed in a desperately beautiful shade of deep red.\n\n\"Sir?\" Caren ventured. \"Is everything okay?\"\n\nHis dark brows arched, as if the question were out of place. \"Me? Sure, Caren. I'm fine. Just out of energy.\" He studied the two of them for a few seconds. \"Both of you are fine?\"\n\nShe bristled. \"Sir...?\"\n\nHe waved the question away. \"Never mind, forget I asked. Obviously you two came in on little sleep, and you know why you were called in. As of this moment, all of your open cases have been reassigned to other officers — this ritual has become your priority. Your _only_ priority.\" He paused briefly, letting out a slow breath to measure the words for his report.\n\n\"Let's start with a timeline: Twenty minutes before one, we started getting heavy energy readings from sensitives in the Main Street Sector — some Shenaihu, but mostly Mendaihu. They thought little of it at the time, as it happens every now and again at a meditation service. There just happened to be a scheduled service in the eastern portion of McCleever District at that point in time that was running late.\n\n\"At about ten to one, a few Mendaihu contacted the ARU to report hearing an _innerspeak_ voice announcing a ritual of some sort. Again, they thought little of it, as most awakenings and cleansings are contained within a small area.\n\n\"And at exactly one o'clock, countless sensitives — including human, non-spiritual sensitives this time — had heard the word 'awaken'. That report's been confirmed by numerous ARU officers as well.\"\n\nCaren shuddered. Had she heard it...?\n\n\"One,\" Poe said, looking straight at Farraway.\n\nFarraway scowled at him. \"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"The One of All Sacred. I heard the voice as well, sir. Whoever it was must have –\"\n\nHe waved that away quickly. \"Don't even entertain the thought, Poe. Coincidence. This sure as hell couldn't have been a Rebirth.\"\n\n\"We can't rule it out yet,\" he countered.\n\nFarraway dismissed the comment and continued, grabbing a hardback folder from the desk drawer. \"At the moment, we're still getting numbers on victims. Police and Fire are taking care of any damage and injuries, leaving us free to deal with our side of the investigation. This is what we have so far, including Kennedy and Slater's report.\" He dropped the folder on the desk in front of them. There were two vidmats within. \"All sources pointing to a Mendaihu performing the ritual.\"\n\nCaren held back the same anger she'd felt earlier. \"Why would _they_ do this?\"\n\nFarraway pondered that for a moment, shrugging. \"A rogue Mendaihu...or even a group of them...bent on soul awakening? I wouldn't know the reason. I've never known the Mendaihu to be paranoid. If they did this, they had a damn good reason. Someone or something is threatening them.\"\n\nPoe shook his head, scowling at him. \"See, that's what's bothering me. The Shenaihu wouldn't willingly start a spiritual war...not _this_ kind of war, one of this size. Why the hell would they want to threaten —\"\n\n\"It wouldn't be the first time,\" Caren interrupted. \"They've always found one avenue or another to disrupt the balance. Probably, hopefully, not as intense as the last time, but I wouldn't rule it out.\" It was a weak response, but it was too personal for her not to bring it up. \"I concede, it's not like the Mendaihu to instigate. Either we've got a paranoid Mendaihu, or an amazingly prescient one.\"\n\nChief Inspector Farraway's eyes moved between them. For another long moment he said nothing. Caren and Poe understood his silences meant deep concentration on the subject at hand, but they still carried the uneasiness of emotions on edge. \"Do what you think best,\" he said. \"I want the two of you to keep it shut, though, and shut _tight_. I don't want anything distracting you or your team two. I've also assigned two Mendaihu agents who are coming in tomorrow.\" He tapped at the keypad on his desk, entering even more information into their personal vidmats. Farraway switched on one of the flat viewing sheets and turned it in their direction, and instantly the holos sparked to life and stared back at them. They had the long black hair, dark eyes and wide oval faces of the Shalei clan. Their records were full of accolades and recommendations spanning years.\n\n\"Agents Akaina and Ashyntoya Shalei from the NewCanta chapter,\" Farraway said. \"They contacted me soon after the incident to offer their services. I accepted. They'll be in early tomorrow. And I'd like complete cooperation from all of you.\"\n\nCaren started to respond, but halted when she saw the coldness in Farraway's eyes. He'd expected some kind of reaction out of her. Did he think this would dredge up unwanted emotions regarding her parents? \"Of course, sir,\" she said unevenly.\n\n'Yes, sir,\" Poe answered with a nod.\n\n\"Good,\" Farraway said, finally turning away. \"In the meantime, I suggest you familiarize yourselves with the case, get in to the mind of the Mendaihu. The research library is still open, and Fancher's already brought up all you need. That is all.\"\n\nCHAPTER THREE\n\n_Shirai_\n\ndehndarra Né hra nyhndah.\n\nShirai opened her eyes to a universe of spiraling dataflows within the Mirades Tower, and felt the countless energies washing over and through her, exciting her very essence. She let out a startled gasp, the rippling and buzzing sensations unexpected. She'd been here at the Tower's confluence and felt these same waves countless times in the past. She was used to experiencing self-awareness within the Tower's internal and external constructs, used to the human senses of sight, sound, and touch, programmed into her own being, so this physical excitement should have come as no surprise. And yet...what was she feeling? Why had she not felt it until this very moment?\n\nAn external influence, she surmised. A virus injected into her coding? Highly improbable...her firewalls would have stopped any such foreign intrusion well before she'd have become aware of it. Her presence was as pure as it had always had been. There was no corruption.\n\nShe found this new consciousness very intriguing. As the Tower's resident artificial intelligence, she was well accustomed to strange goings-on, whether in the public or private datastreams, or in human life — _real life_ to humans. She understood the actions and the thought processes of humans and Meraladians, and how to interpret and react to such things. She had been programmed to be impartial from the outset, able to come up with her own individual opinions and thoughts, but also able to understand when and how they would be needed. She'd been beta tested, versioned, and upgraded to the point that she alone was the human race's pinnacle of AI technology. She had even been given virtual prehensility to let her 'grasp' or manipulate physical objects within the Tower and its immediate area to a limited extent.\n\nSomething was new here.\n\nShe felt.\n\nShe _felt_.\n\nWith a shiver of unexpected joy and curiosity, she realized that was the answer: she had been given sensation! She could truly _feel_ those energies flowing through the Tower, trillions of bytes of information and electricity flowing through their mapped highways, not just as actions, but could understand what they were doing and why. Something new had been added...no, that wasn't it. Perhaps something had been turned on, or upgraded? She had suddenly become aware of her own presence in relation to the rest of the network, a sensation she had not felt in the past. She no longer sensed herself as just a part of it, but separate from it.\n\nCuriously, she thought of it as an awakening of sorts. Could this awareness be related to the awakening ritual she'd witnessed just minutes ago? That in itself had brought up troubling questions. As part of the security protocols of the Mirades Tower, her programming should have stopped edha Usarai before he'd even approached the elevators. Someone had overridden those protocols, but she could not confirm if he had been the one to do so. She could only confirm that it had been an external influence.\n\nHer programming urged her to investigate.\n\n*\n\nTwo hours later, she grew concerned. According to her research, edha Usarai's awakening ritual had directly affected thousands within a two mile radius and hundreds of thousands more in the rest of the city in the ensuing shockwave, with a dangerously high probability that it would continue to expand within the next forty-eight hours and affect even more. She had a Tower server run an algorithm to give a closer estimate of possible future incidents, and would expect the answer within the next few hours. In the meantime, she would continue to research her main concern: the reasoning behind the mass awakening. She already knew who had performed it. The fact that he had chosen the same level as her main processors was not lost on her.\n\nHad she been affected as well? Had an AI been granted a spiritual life? Was that possible at this time? And why had he chosen her? The answer brought her back to edha Usarai again...he had given her awareness for a reason. Furthermore, her spiritual awareness was not a newly created living thing; chances were high that an existing soul had been placed within her somehow. This, of course, brought up a secondary question: _whose_ soul? Meraladhza or Gharné? Mendaihuza or Shenaihuza? Again, the same question: _who_? Whom had she become? She would need to think about this more. Protocol meant she would need to report this to one of the many think tanks within the Tower that could research and theorize further, but that could pose more problems than answers. They would surely bring her offline, and she couldn't have that, not at this time. Given the current situation, she would be needed for extra security and knowledge, and possible mediation. Her thought processes had not been affected by this ritual, only her sense of awareness.\n\nHer initial research complete, she understood what she needed to accomplish. She would need to bypass all levels of security and inform the Provincial Governor. He was due to broadcast a briefing within the next few hours and it was imperative that he know this information.\n\nCHAPTER FOUR\n\n_Provincial Governor Rieflin_\n\nIt was nearing three in the morning by the time Provincial Governor Anton Rieflin stumbled upon a rare quiet spot in the hallway of his offices, and stopped to rub the burning exhaustion out of his eyes. The night had turned into one unrelenting clusterfuck here at the Tower, but he couldn't show weakness, not just yet. The hallways and foyers had been filled with nervous senators and councilors and aides who had been here since mid-evening, skittering like hungry mice from one office to the other. Far be it from him to know what the hell they were doing exactly, chasing back and forth like that. Business safety precautions? Governmental procedures? Covering their asses? Weren't they supposed to be at their desks, doing their damned jobs?\n\nGoddess...this renegade ritual had thrown everyone out of whack, and that troubled him more than the ritual itself. They'd followed procedure the best they could, given the proximity of the ritual, and he had to at least give them credit for not doing anything stupid or catastrophic. They were blessed lucky that the ritual hadn't affected anyone within the Tower's walls.\n\nIn fact, it wasn't until public reaction surfaced that things started going south. The avalanche of calls, emails and flashvids crashed the comm servers twice within the first hour. And once their worries had been heard, tagged and logged, it was time for the corporate world to weigh in. He failed to see a connection between an awakening ritual and someone's profit line, but as Governor he had to listen anyway. Luckily, they were much easier to calm down than the general public and those conference calls had been mercifully brief. But he was running out of steam...he'd need to decamp to his office or his quarters for some sleep pretty soon.\n\nNow was not that time, he realized bleakly, as soon as he saw Jack Priestley walking down the hallway towards him. His first instinct had always been to run off in the opposite direction whenever he saw the man, yet protocol and his own stubborn will reacted otherwise. One did not brush off a representative of the Crimson-Null Foundation, not without repercussions.\n\nAnton had to stoop a bit to face the man. While he himself was an exceptionally tall and lanky man nearing seven feet, Jack just cleared five feet and appeared sick and frail, though that was merely an effect of his genes; on the contrary, he was extremely shrewd and quick-witted, and could pace you without breaking a sweat. He was an offworlder from Hallera that he'd known for quite a few years. The sickly pallor came from the previous generations of his family living within Hallera, the Meraladian-made satellite world not far from Mannaki. By nature they were not agoraphobic, but just the same did not often venture outside. Jack looked as if he hadn't seen a sun in decades.\n\nHe was actually quite amiable at the best of times, but he was the last person Anton wanted to run into right now. If this man was here at the Tower, it meant that this ritual had affected more than just the city and its inhabitants and businesses...it meant that it might soon become a CNF concern. The Foundation was essentially his bosses' bosses—the financial and political overseers of Earth and curators of its relationship with the other joint Meraladian-Earthworlder planets in the union. And if they wanted to get involved in this, there may be more dangerous implications to this ritual than previously thought.\n\n\"Jack,\" he said, with all the pleasantry he could muster at that moment, which honestly wasn't much. \"I admit I wasn't expecting you here so soon.\"\n\nJack nodded with a smile equally lacking in emotion, and offered no explanation for his arrival. \"This little event took the CNF quite by surprise, Governor.\"\n\nAnton nodded slowly. \"Took us _all_ by surprise, Jack. No doubt about that.\"\n\n\"I intend to find out who is behind it, sir,\" he said in a quiet but forceful voice. That was Jack; no pretense. \"I've set up here on the thirty-ninth floor. When you have the chance, I would like to discuss the situation and what your plans, if any, may be.\"\n\nAnton hid his annoyance. _If any?_ \"I'll do so as soon as I can,\" he said. \"In fact, I'll be holding a special session of the Provincial Governor's Council later on today, either late morning or early afternoon, depending on when this all calms down and when the others get in or sign on. It'll be in the same place we usually meet, in the Andiri Room. You'll be there?\"\n\nJack frowned as he nodded. \"Yes...yes, I'll be there, sir. Thank you.\"\n\nAnton glanced down the hall momentarily. Now was a good time to escape. \"Listen — I'm going to be hiding in my office for the next few hours to get some work done. Give me a call some time later this morning, and we'll go over everything we have so far, get this all straightened out. Sound good to you?\"\n\nJack nodded. \"It's a plan, sir. I'm listed on the vidcam directory if you need me.\"\n\nHours later, Anton stood at the window and watched the dawn trace the long shadow of the Mirades Tower across Bridgetown. The buildings and complexes below him stood majestically and silently, bathed in the crimson-yellow of an autumnal sunrise, waiting for the new day to begin. An orange BMPD helicopter buzzed the Tower in front of him at a close but respectable distance, following its usual path of morning rounds. It acknowledged the Tower aviation control beacon with the repetitive single click of its undercarriage light, a sign of no emergency.\n\n_No emergency,_ Anton thought skeptically. He craned his neck and looked up as far as he could into the blue, cloudless sky. The crimson fog, whatever it had been, had dissipated as the night wore on and now there was no sign it had ever been there in the first place. He'd barely seen it himself, unable to see much of anything between the dark evening sky and the beacons of light shooting off the Tower's antenna array. Perhaps a slight discoloration of the air, which he'd at first attributed to his imagination and lack of sleep. It had only lasted for about two and a half hours, and by four in the morning it had completely vanished.\n\nBelieving the threat to be over for the time being, he'd holed himself up in his private office and caught a half hour's rest on his couch. It wasn't much, no more than a catnap, but it was enough for him to rest his eyes and calm his nerves. He'd scheduled a meeting of his provincial council to commence as soon as all members had arrived or at least had logged in, and by five that morning they'd gathered in the Andiri Room on the eighty-first floor. About half of the members and guests, Jack Priestley included, had arrived in house, the others joining via vidmat. He hadn't planned on making any progress with this initial meeting; this was more about intelligence gathering and getting everyone on the same page. A lot of disparate rumors had been shuffled back and forth throughout the evening, and he needed to weed out all the false leads as early as possible before he could make any further decisions.\n\nHe'd been informed early on that the ritual was performed by a Mendaihu working alone, and there were a number of names already floating around as possible suspects. Finding the man was the job of the Alien Relations Unit at this point. What he wanted to know was how the hells this man had gotten up there in the first place. Like everyone else, he knew that performing an awakening ritual was an extremely sensitive endeavor. It had to be contained within a finite space and controlled at all times. To recklessly awaken an untold number of people without even performing a closure at the end was not only dangerous but potentially lethal to those affected. The man was damn lucky that he was able to complete the ritual and keep it from getting out of hand.\n\nAnd now Anton had to deal with the aftershock.\n\n_Mendaihu,_ he thought with a shudder, as he turned away from the window and back to his desk. Why did the ritual have to be performed by a damned Mendaihu? Not that he would have liked it to be a Shenaihu instead, but still...to show such recklessness and irresponsibility, especially given the timing! This was a dangerous time to be provoking imbalance between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu...it had been a quarter century since the last uprising, and this man's actions could have dire consequences. The last time there had been an uprising between the two spiritual factions, there had been bloodshed. He'd been just a junior senator at the time, those twenty-five years ago, and just the same, he did not want to relive those memories. As long as it was possible, he would keep this from becoming an all-out spiritual war. He would rather outlaw these spiritual differences altogether, impossible as that was.\n\n_Mendaihu_. _The One of All Sacred help us all._\n\nHe stepped back out of the small conference room, finding it no less comforting than his office, and into his front offices. His secretary Mina had completely ignored him as she had been trained unless it was a pressing matter or he sought her attention. She was a jacker, just like most of the upper governmental office clerks, working better without the idle chitchat of their employers. Jackers juiced nanotech into their nervous system by way of a neural implant to connect with the virtual world, able to swim the ether while conversing with the real world at the same time. Mina, however, had never been much of a conversationalist to begin with. She had an immense library of knowledge in her head...but just preferred not to talk. She was quite possibly the most unassuming person he had ever employed. It made him wonder who she _really_ was, behind that introvert façade. He knew she was Gharné, an Earthworlder human, she lived alone near Branden Hill Park, dedicated to her job...and that was about it. But who was she? Was she truly the quiet, lifeless person he'd hired? Was she Mendaihu or Shenaihu? And belatedly, he thought: could she have been affected last night by the ritual?\n\nThe distractions helped clear his head somewhat. He stopped at Mina's desk and asked if she had any updates since the meeting's end. She was surprisingly forthcoming. \"Nandahya Mirades sent you a packet with the latest information she could gather,\" she said. \"She's also given you a list of anyone who may have been involved with the ritual. General Phillips needs to know if and/or when his troops may be needed for security purposes. Jack Priestley is, of course, requesting follow-up every thirty minutes. Your speechwriters have finished the latest draft, which I've uploaded to your workspace. That's just in the last hour, sir.\"\n\nHe groaned at the news and rubbed at his temples. \"Damned if I know the answers,\" he said, more to himself than to his secretary. He bristled, having been reminded about that speech...he'd have to break the news to the province, whether or not he had all the information. \"How long before the news conference?\"\n\n\"Approximately forty-five minutes, sir,\" his secretary said. \"Additionally, I've been informed that the speechwriting team is finalizing the schedule for State of the Province speech. I've taken the liberty of uploading the latest State speech to your tablet as well, in case you need to edit.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mina.\" He was glad that his request for pushing the State Speech out a few days had been accepted...everyone had agreed there clearly was not enough proven information to present to the public. For now, he felt confident about this news conference. All he needed to do was let Bridgetown know that it was under control. Tired but satisfied, he retreated to his office.\n\nHe'd only just taken a few steps when his assistant cleared her throat. \"Sir...\" Mina said, her voice cracking slightly. \"I've just gotten a ping from Tower Central.\"\n\nHe paused, frowning at her. \"Central?\" he said unevenly. \"I just spoke with them. What do they need now?\"\n\n\"Shirai would like a moment of your time,\" she said quietly, avoiding eye contact. \"She's...eh, she's already waiting in your office.\"\n\nShirai...? What did the Tower AI want with him? She rarely came over to his part of the building, only entering the government offices when requested. She considered herself an integral part of the business world, especially for the major firms with home offices here in the Tower, but she was only an observer when it came to politics. For her to show up in his office this morning, unasked, meant there was more... _much_ more to this ritual, than anyone had expected.\n\n\"Uh...thank you, Mina,\" he said with all the calm he could muster. \"That will be all.\" He slipped through his inner office door and locked it behind him, something he rarely did. He noticed a slight tremor in his hands as he approached his desk, and balled them into fists. As promised, he found his hardback vidmat placed dead center on his desk with the speech document open. He was too nervous to pick it up right now, and moved it aside. He delayed the moment by scanning the rest of his office for anything out of place, or a visual presence of the AI, physical or otherwise.\n\n\"Shirai?\" he said into the air, his voice pitifully small.\n\n\"I am Shirai, sir,\" she said, her voice unexpectedly centralized to the area right in front of him. \"Thank you for taking the time to talk, Governor.\"\n\nHe cleared his throat and started again. \"I wasn't sure if you were still here. I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you.\"\n\n\"I am Shirai,\" she repeated, and slipped into the brief preprogrammed introduction she shared with all her interactive users; her voice was mature and conversational. \"Artificial intelligence unit and protocol security system for the Mirades Tower. Reimos Mirades of EdenTree's Biotech Division created me twenty-five years ago. My original programming assignment was to monitor server overflow, but I have expanded my knowledge and reach to include net security and intelligence trafficking. I am often called for economic and political mediation.\n\n\"I have limited emulated conscience to maintain impartiality.\"\n\nAnton exhaled, unaware he'd held his breath. Genuinely impressed, he lowered himself into his chair and looked up into the air to pinpoint the voice's origin. \"I assume you have a holo identity on this side of the Tower?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nShirai blinked into existence in front of him, casually leaning over the back of a guest chair. She appeared to be in her early twenties, slightly younger than he'd expected. She had long, shoulder-length black hair that responded correctly to any head movement she made, and wore business casual, a sky blue button-down blouse with a black skirt and leggings. He noticed belatedly that she was wearing a necklace with a small pendant shaped like two intersecting circles.\n\n\"I...I'm impressed,\" he stuttered. \"By the level of detail, I mean. Forgive me for staring.\"\n\nShirai's smile glittered. \"I find it a compliment, sir. Not many care to see me in my true holo form.\"\n\nHe nodded uncertainly. \"You're...\"\n\n\"Young?\" she laughed it off. \"It was my father's choice. Now...shall we have a chat?\"\n\nAnton nodded amicably. \"Of course. What is it you'd like to discuss?\"\n\nAngelic, Shirai swept around the chair and sat. He couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn that the seat cushion gave in slightly to the nonexistent weight. He relaxed in his own chair, leaning to one side and propping his chin up with a fist.\n\n\"Governor,\" she started, her voice dropped low. \"I took the time to read over the speech before you came in. Crimson-Null Foundation guidelines state I am fully authorized to do so.\"\n\nAnton nodded. \"I expect no less. Are there any points I may have missed?\"\n\nShirai looked straight at him with raised eyebrows. \"Sir...\" she stumbled, as much as an artificially intelligent holo could in reaction to emotional confusion, and frowned. \"Sir, I feel I should inform you that what you are about to say to the press, the city and the rest of the province, is sorely lacking in credibility.\"\n\nThe room went cold as he stared at her. \"Would you like to elaborate?\"\n\nShirai waved to calm him down. \"Don't get me wrong, sir. Factually, it is true and correct. I've checked and referenced everything thoroughly. It's the motivation that bothers me, sir. There are glaring omissions. They do not diminish the speech in any way, but I'm at a loss as to why they are not included at all. Clearly this has echoes of another uprising between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, yet that has been neatly avoided. I am hoping the Foundation has not decided to gloss this over.\"\n\nHe slowly and nervously sat up in his chair. \"Shirai, I —\"\n\nShe eyed him, bemused. \"No need to respond, sir. I gather from your reaction that my deduction is correct. But surely they remember what happened twenty-five years ago. An event like this could surely trigger another event.\"\n\nAnton did his best to cover up both his shock and embarrassment as he scrambled for an answer. \"Oh, _that_ we remember well, Shirai. But it's the enlightened citizens who remember it most; they were the most affected. Not the other eighty per cent of the population.\"\n\n\"Precisely,\" she said. \"Your speech apparently is not aimed towards the Mendaihu or the Shenaihu at all. I am sorry, sir, but I must suggest you revise immediately.\"\n\n\"Shirai...\" He dropped his eyes. \"I'm afraid the CNF won't allow me.\"\n\nShe pursed her lips and nodded. She did not need explanation. \"Given the situation, I am sure many are already aware.\"\n\nHe frowned at her. \"What is that supposed to mean?\"\n\n\"Sir, with respect, you don't need me to answer that.\"\n\nAnger flared within him, but faded equally as fast. He stared at her, thinking about her remark. In all honesty, he was starting to get a good idea as to why this particular awakening ritual had been performed, taking place on the Tower as it did. Her reaction only managed to back that up. \"Point taken, Shirai,\" he said. \"But I refuse to go out and make a speech to an entire province when I don't have the all the details. Unless I hear from the ARU, the Embodiment theory stays out. Honestly, I'm almost certain you're right, but I can't base fact on mere human certainty alone.\"\n\nThat seemed to placate her. \"I understand, sir. As long as you were aware of the situation.\"\n\nUnexpectedly, the speech vidmat beeped and awakened from sleep mode, and a new dialogue frame had opened. Had he just inadvertently awakened it? He glanced down and watched the words go by...no, this wasn't his speech, this was a new document uploading to his vidmat. He waved at it to minimize the frame and glared at Shirai.\n\n\"What is this?\" he asked, surprised more than angry. He held his pose, frowning at the screen. \"You have no authorization to access private decks and vidmats without permission.\"\n\n\"Not for private homespaces or secure servers, sir. I've linked directly, only to the vidmat before you, and created a generic document which I have not saved to the server. I believe you may need this information in the immediate future, sir. If you choose to save it or discard it, that's completely up to you.\"\n\nHe frowned and reopened the frame, and scrolled back to the start of the document. He scanned the text, only to stop at the end of the first paragraph:\n\nWe must face this Awakening Ritual head-on. We should not just focus on who performed it, whether they be Mendaihu or Shenaihu...nor should we only focus on apprehending them, for it will do nothing to calm its intended purpose. We must focus on the true motive behind it. This was a Holy Ritual of Spiritual Awakening, performed by one of the strongest adepts in the province, and I have already measured its reach, which is already well past the initial shockwave. This was a mass awakening on a global scale, and mirrors the same ritual and aftereffects of twenty-five years ago. Which can only mean one thing: this ritual was meant to awaken the Ninth Embodiment of the One of All Sacred.\n\n_Goddess,_ he thought, a chill running down his back. \"This is your work?\"\n\n\"This is evidence, sir,\" she said soberly. \"Expect a resurgence.\"\n\nAnton was struck dumb for a long moment, his eyes wandering up to hers, then back down to the vidmat. He let out a nervous chuckle. _If this is true...!_ It was not what he'd expected at all. The One of All Sacred, awakened again? He couldn't believe it. He began scrolling through the pages of Shirai's document, gingerly flipping each page as if it were dangerous to the touch. Shirai was incorruptible as an AI, and her programming was heavily guarded both physically and electronically, so chances were extremely high that this information could be thoroughly confirmed as true. This _was_ dangerous information...Anton felt his stomach drop and forced himself to back away from the vidmat. He couldn't read this, at least not until he knew what to do with it afterwards. He turned back to Shirai, but found no words.\n\n\"The Mendaihu and the Shenaihu will act soon, sir,\" Shirai said. \"According to what I've just given you, there's no reason for them to wait in silence any longer.\"\n\n_Goddess!_ Anton stared at her. _How the hell would she know?_\n\n\"I understand that you'll do what you can, sir.\"\n\n\"Shirai...\" he managed.\n\n\"I am sorry, Governor Rieflin. But you had to know.\"\n\n\"But —\"\n\n\"You will understand very soon, sir. Now—I believe you have an important speech that you have a little under an hour to prepare for. I will keep in touch with you, sir.\"\n\nShirai blinked out of existence just as quickly as she had entered. Anton stared blankly at the spot she had sat in, suddenly terrified.\n\n*\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, _emha si edha_ of the province of Bridgetown and surrounding provinces; members of the Crimson-Null Foundation, the Bridgetown Metro Police and Fire Departments and their subdepartments, and members of the press. Thank you all for coming or connecting.\"\n\nAnton stood behind the podium, quickly wiping a bead of sweat from his brow and nervously scanning the crowd before him. Shirai's words still hung on his conscience...he wanted, so desperately now, to divert from the script in front of him and speak from his heart, speak the _truth_ for once! He'd reread the speech four times since Shirai left, and it sickened him each time, knowing he'd have to play by the rules out of fear. Not exactly _his_ fear...but everyone else's. The CNF counselors had taken his words, a speech he'd slaved over on his own for six hours straight until he knew it was perfect and true...and in return they'd given him yet another lifeless, go-by-the-book piece of talking point drivel. He sighed quietly, frustrated by his own lack of spine, knowing there was little else he could do at this moment. All that was needed was his fatherly gaze upon the crowd and a knowing look of intelligence for the cameras. He was good at that...he'd been trained well, and he'd had the practice over the years. The speech spoke for itself; he knew the pattern by heart. _Introduce yourself, gently bring up the problem, make them believe it's not as bad as they think, pad it with promises, and tell them we'll keep them updated_ , he thought. Nothing but empty words. His only consolation was that they'd decided not to go full-on with the fear route, giving him a blockbuster of a speech that would scare everyone senseless so they'd do the work behind the scenes in relative peace while the populace stayed paralyzed. If he'd had his way, though, he would have flat-out refused their script before even setting foot in this room. That time had passed, and the community needed an answer. He had to give them something, even if it wasn't the full truth.\n\n_It'll be truth enough,_ he reminded himself. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket, looked out over his audience, and continued.\n\n\"Mere hours have passed since the crimson cloud of an Awakening Ritual surrounded the Mirades Tower. Mere hours we have spent, questioning, studying it all: who was behind it and wondering, 'why the Tower?' Mere hours, sifting through the situation for answers. Who could have performed a ritual of such magnitude? What could their motives have been? Were they even aware of the consequences behind their ritual?\n\n\"Citizens, I will say first that both the Mendaihu and Shenaihu Elders, and many other spiritual leaders worldwide, all find this act deplorable, and have graciously stepped forward to assist in the welfare of anyone who has been affected, directly or indirectly, by the shockwave created by this ritual. At the end of the speech, your local networks will run an interactive list of all leaders and Elders should you need help.\n\n\"We do have a shortlist of suspects right now, and a course of action is being planned by the Branden Hill District Headquarters of the Alien Relations Unit at this very moment. It is our understanding that there are eyewitnesses and spiritsensers, both Meraladian and human, who have witnessed or been impacted by the event, and many have come forth to give their side of the story. We are hoping to have the suspect apprehended and this case closed by the week's end.\"\n\nHe paused, taking a breath to calm his nerves. All this was true, all of it helpful...but it just was not the real truth!\n\n\"As for the shockwave...\" he started again, calm and introspective. \"Reports say that the shockwave lost most of its strength nearly two miles from its epicenter, the Mirades Tower, according to ARU ground and FireFlighter aerial observation. Most of the physical damage is condensed in the half-mile radius around the Tower, where the shockwave was strongest. Many of the skyscrapers in the immediate area took the brunt of it and because of this, damages were at a minimum.\n\n\"We do not have a concrete number of lives possibly lost from the night before, though initial reports state there were no fatalities. It is the lowest in history when compared to similar spiritual incidents in this city, including the schisms of twenty-five years ago.\n\n\"The souls of Bridgetown were being watched over by a Supreme Being last night, it seems.\"\n\nAnton paused and took another deep breath. It was a contemplative pause, one he'd mastered so perfectly during these speeches. He added to it by taking a quick sip from his water glass. He hated putting on this act...but given the situation, he didn't think it would have made any difference. For all the public knew, this had all been a freak accident. _Well, then,_ he thought. _Let them believe that for now. They'll find out sooner or later. They always do._\n\nHe took another breath and continued.\n\n\"As of now, the Crimson-Null Foundation takes no active role in the investigation, aside from observation and assistance when needed. It is certain that Bridgetown is not under any kind of attack from terrorists, human _or_ alien. All corners of the BMPD, the FireFlighter Department and choice Mendaihu and Shenaihu agents have taken this case under their wing to help bring this case to a swift close.\"\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, the end to this investigation is coming swift and fast. Many of the investigators involved have eliminated many of the dead ends that had plagued them over the past six hours. I commend their efforts, and I am confident that their work will be fruitful within the next twenty-four hours.\"\n\nAnton paused again, eyeing the audience. It was here that his ghost-editors had ended the speech with something flowery and consoling, something safe and patriotic to calm the public's fears until the next time...with absolutely no mention of what the Awakening Ritual may have actually been for. Now that he knew, however, the temptation to tell the public was fierce, but he understood the consequences that would bring. A tightness knotted his throat. He dearly wished that Shirai's prediction would be flat-out wrong, completely off the mark, yet he felt the truth behind it. It was unexplainable, this instinct he felt; it was a truth that dared to be wronged. His thoughts couldn't conjure up an answer to the dare, and his conscience refused to.\n\n_Maybe less than twenty-four hours,_ he thought. _I can't keep this hidden._\n\nSitting near the front, alongside the press corps, he saw the frail form of Jack Priestley, frowning at him. He shuddered, hoping no one had noticed. Jack had edited most of Rieflin's speech himself, turning it into the sterile piece of crap that it was. Well, the little man now had the best seat in the house. He exhaled slowly, and stared straight into the vidcams set up in the rear of the room. This was the unscripted moment, and he wasn't going to let it pass him by. If he was reprimanded afterwards, to hell with it. His conscience would not let this pass.\n\n\"As an aside...\" he started unevenly. He cleared his throat and started again, editing Shirai's words in his head as he went. \"...I have also received reports that there are people gathering at an undisclosed location within the Waterfront District, for what is being billed as a peaceful demonstration, a vigil of sorts to pray for and help those affected. Though permission had not been granted by myself or by my officers, in light of recent events I have chosen to let the vigil continue, as I have been given word that no rituals have been planned. A select number of BMPD officers are already on hand at this location in case of any emergencies, and will remain there to keep the peace.\n\n\"Lastly...I must mention that I have heard a Mendaihu practitioner is allegedly behind this ritual. However, I feel I must remind all of you that the Mendaihu _do not_ condone this act. The Honored Mendaihu of Bridgetown completely understand the ramifications of this ritual, and are already taking steps to ensure that peace remains in this city and that all who were affected are taken care of immediately. And as your Provincial Governor, I do not condone any acts of violence against the Mendaihu in response, whether you are Gharné or Meraladhza, Mendaihu or Shenaihu, whether provoked by this recent event or not. I will _not_ condone any violence at all. None! There will not be bloodshed in my city!\n\n\"I will also explain this — the effects of an awakening ritual are minimal, as one must actively participate in order for the ritual to cause any change. There are those who have been affected by the shockwave, specifically those within the close radius of the Mirades Tower, and with the help of the Mendaihu, the Shenaihu and other spiritual Elders, they are _all_ being cared for. But I will — no, I _must_ repeat: the effects are minimal, and if you feel you are experiencing the adverse effects, I ask that you seek your nearest Elder as quickly as possible.\n\n\"Until then, I will retain any other information that comes my way, until it is proven without a doubt to be true. As your Provincial Governor, I flat-out _refuse_ to provide my citizens with false or incomplete information. In the meantime, I must continue my stance in alignment with the Crimson-Null Foundation as an observer, and _only_ as observer, until further notice. I trust the BMPD, the FireFlighters and any other association involved with the investigation, fully and completely. I will leave all further questions to my officers.\n\n\"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, emha si edha, I pray for each and every one of you. Peace, Love and Light to everyone. Good afternoon.\"\n\nThe room erupted as soon as he backed away, questions and accusations hitting him in a wall of sound. How dare he not take immediate action! How dare he demand peaceful actions from his citizens! How dare he invoke a spiritual plea! Anton retreated from the podium with no expression on his face, nodding to one of his security guards, who came to his side immediately to escort him away. A group of reporters near the front stood up and leaned forward, as close as they dared to, to question his last unscripted moment. Near the rear, imagraphers triggered multiple camera shutters with their remotes, capturing his escape from far too many angles. As he was being shuffled to the back door, he looked out into the audience one last time, where he found Jack Priestley, still sitting in his chair. His face had been a mixture of surprise and shock. Shaken but relieved, Anton turned and headed for the private door behind the podium, his two security guards following closely behind.\n\nCHAPTER FIVE\n\n_Caren_\n\nCaren and Poe left Headquarters as the sun rose over Branden Hill District, exhausted and frustrated. Caren stifled a yawn and rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands as they pulled out of the dark garage and into the bright morning. The muscles in her arms and legs screamed and twitched, pleading for sleep. Poe's chain smoking wasn't helping, but she was too tired to complain. At this point, as long as a window was open, Caren didn't care. Their investigation was far from over, but right now she just wanted to crawl back into her bed for the next twenty hours.\n\nThey'd just spent the last five hours downtown, interviewing witnesses and those affected, and her energy levels were depleted. After the fallout zone, such as it was, had been deemed safe for passage, they'd made their way through the grid of streets in the Tower Sector, searching for anyone else who hadn't yet made their presence known. The recently awakened were usually easy to find, as they often gave off a heavy amount of excess spiritual energy which lasted for at least two or three days. Their work was cut out for them in that respect, but they still had to actively look for many who had chosen not to say anything, or say as little as possible. And there were a _lot_ of those. By the time they'd interviewed at least three dozen willing people and gotten contact information for a few dozen more, they'd decided to give up for the time being. They'd made their way back to the ARU headquarters as the sun rose, grabbed a small and unfulfilling breakfast in the cafeteria, and debated what their next step would be. By now, Denni was most likely getting ready for school, so Caren called to check up on her. Her sister was bleary-eyed and exhausted from little sleep, but she put on a brave face and told her she felt no lingering effects of last night's shockwave. Relieved by those words, Caren let her end the call. Poe suggested they drive around a bit and people-watch for an hour or two before calling it a day. It wasn't the most productive thing to do, but it killed off the excess tension and it helped them gauge how the city was reacting to the ritual.\n\n\"Farraway,\" Poe said, cutting the silence between them. He exhaled a puff of smoke and flicked ash out the window. \"I'm starting to wonder...\"\n\nHe said nothing else, and Caren glared at him. \"What are you going on about?\"\n\nHe threw a quick glance at her. \"Oh...sorry, just thinking aloud. Just that...well, Farraway's giving us conflicting signals. Calls us in to investigate an unsanctioned ritual. No problem, part of our job. Has Nick and Sheila start it off. Again, no problem, they're our team two and they can handle it. Then assigns us two high-level Mendaihu to assist. Unexpected, but not out of the ordinary.\"\n\nCaren bristled. \"Are you going anywhere with this?\"\n\nHe flicked ash out of the window and took another drag before he continued. \"Does it bother you that this ritual was big enough to cause that much spiritual bleedover? That was a cloud at least three or so miles in diameter when we saw it last night. You'd think we'd have Special Ops jumping in. Or CNF at this point, considering where it hit.\"\n\nShe frowned at him. She kind of understood, but she was too exhausted to think straight. \"Are you saying this case is a lot bigger than he's making it out to be?\"\n\n\"It's not a racial issue between the Meraladhza and the Gharné,\" he said. \"This is between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, and it's not just a relations issue, either. I really hate that I have to say this, but I think one or the other is about to do something, and a Mendaihu just made the first move. Farraway wouldn't have brought the Shalei twins in otherwise.\"\n\nShe wanted to agree with him, but she didn't want to admit it, not just yet. \"How do you know that? We've handled renegade cases before, Alec.\"\n\n\"Not like this, we haven't.\"\n\n\"But how can we prove that?\"\n\n\"Because neither the Mendaihu nor the Shenaihu act out in this manner, not without motive,\" he shot back. \"It's not in their nature, you know that. And when they do, their own kind usually gets a hold of them before we do. Did you notice how many people commented on who might have been behind the ritual?\"\n\nCaren frowned. \"Not many,\" she said. \"They recognized the signature, no doubting that. But they weren't talking.\"\n\n\"Damn straight they weren't!\" Poe growled, started to say something else, and then stopped. He growled again, took a deep drag off of his cigarette and forcefully crushed it in the ashtray, and focused quietly and intently on the road ahead. She'd rarely seen him get this riled up, and she knew enough not to push it any further. He had a mean streak when his blood boiled and his words would often go unchecked. She'd seen him lash out on criminals to just this side of an assault charge, and she didn't want to be on the receiving end. She waited it out as they drove aimlessly through the Branden Hill district.\n\n\"So what do you think?\" she asked, her voice deliberately calm. \"Should we escalate this to the Crimson-Null Foundation officials? We still have time, and we'd be able to back the hell away.\"\n\nHe responded with a quick shake of the head. \"I don't think that would help, to be honest. CNF won't know what to do with it. I'd say this is more a _spiritual_ thing than a political or racial one. You and I are programmed for this kind of event.\" He pulled out another cigarette, debated lighting up, and stuck it behind his ear instead. \"This wasn't any CNF-ranked terrorist, Caren. Just a regular Mendaihu. One hell of a strong one, yes, but a regular B-Towner, just like you and me. Only the strongest of the Mendaihu can summon up something like that. _Especially_ something that big.\" He shrugged. He pulled the cigarette from his ear and lit it up. His hands trembled slightly, enough for her to catch it. Poe rarely showed such fear openly.\n\n\"You still think this is similar to twenty-five years ago, don't you?\" she said quietly.\n\nHe exhaled slowly, and nodded. \"Yes, I do.\"\n\n\"Goddess...\" Caren felt the chill all the way through her soul. It was the cold sting of ice upon her very essence. She bit her lip, hoping Poe hadn't noticed. Again she thought of the image of her parents, both Mendaihu of blood and deed, watching over her...and the image of their violent and pointless deaths. All in the name of spiritual balance. A delicate balance that was now in question once again. Almost like clockwork.\n\n\"Then in response...then the Shenaihu...\" She found she couldn't even finish the sentence.\n\n\"We need Vigil,\" he said, his voice low.\n\nShe frowned and nodded in agreement.\n\n*\n\nIn his humble day job, Matthew Davison was a young and brilliant communications tech programmer for KJS Corporation, and part of the team that had created the now-ubiquitous vidmat technology. He was highly sought after for his stellar commtech skills and he had high-level contacts both in business and government, all of whom admired his work. He was intelligent and empathetic, ready to lend a hand to client and coworker alike. He was dedicated and driven. Many considered him a mirror-image of his father, the late, revered Provincial Senator Gregory Davison.\n\nOff the clock however, he was the most feared digital anarchist in the Sprawl.\n\nHe was part of a movement of political-minded anarchy jackers and whistleblowers whose main goal was to tear apart the inner workings of the overly capitalistic Bridgetown corporations with the sole purpose of keeping the playing field even for all involved — including the consumer. His forte was the leakage of sensitive information, specifically the exposure of undocumented dealings and noncompliance. If they ignored Vigil's attacks, Matthew and his team would pile it on all the more — they were relentless. The corporation would have no other choice but to realign. Matthew's attacks were brilliant and bloodless. Never enough to cause mass economic damage...but just enough to keep analysts on their toes.\n\nThe number of insiders and accomplices he had contact with was unbelievably large. Matthew was the leader of Vigil, and he was Poe's most reliable street source. The only reason Poe had never turned him in was that he was more valuable to everyone behind the scenes than he was behind bars. And besides, Matthew had technically never broken an existing law.\n\nVigil based their mainland operations in a nondescript former hotel remodeled into condominiums and offices. The four-story building, a few blocks from Branden Hill Park, was in good structural condition though the outside needed a lot of work...there were chips in the faded brick and the façade was in bad need of a fresh coat of paint. Many of the windows were grimy and covered by disheveled blinds. The lobby was poorly lit and held a strange pungent odor that no one could ever quite place. Still, the place looked livable and not entirely derelict. This was exactly how Vigil wanted it — unassuming and maybe even a bit off-putting, but not to the point of decrepitude. They also controlled the security systems of all the surrounding buildings and made no attempt at hiding those facts. Their territory could not be infiltrated without the group knowing.\n\nThe foyer elevator appeared moments after their arrival, its scratched and dented doors opening with a low scrape against its runners, and they entered. The car gave with a loud and unsettling jolt as it started its ascension. Though they were only going up three floors, it took much longer than it should have, and when the doors opened, it deposited them in a dimly lit and musty hallway. No numbers or nameplates graced any of the doors. Only one door, far down the end, stood slightly ajar with light spilling out of it, the one inviting place in the entire building.\n\nMatthew stood in the doorway of that farthest apartment, waiting with arms crossed and staring lazily at the floor. There was no greeting, nor was there animosity. He just stood there with a strange calmness, as if he'd had a lifetime's practice at it. Caren always felt a little uncomfortable around the kid, as she could not read any emotion from him, not even indifference. He rarely showed any when he was on Vigil time, and when he did it was usually a slow-burning impatience.\n\n\"Must say I thought you'd come earlier,\" he said, looking up. His voice was naturally hoarse, and it echoed against the empty walls around them. It sounded like he hadn't slept over the past few days. He certainly looked it. Loose clothes smelling of sweat hung off his shoulders and hips in typical jacker anti-fashion, dirty brown hair unkempt and capped by a dark blue bandanna. His face, however, betrayed his image; a youthful and freshly-shaven face with soft blue eyes behind thin-framed glasses.\n\nPoe cleared his throat, holding back his own moodiness. \"Yeah, well...we got caught up.\"\n\nMatthew smirked. \"Of course.\" Not a big flash of emotion, just tired amusement. He stepped back into the apartment and swung the door wide, casually waving them in.\n\nVigil's center of operations was disturbingly mundane. It looked no different than any other college student's apartment in Branden Hill, with the mismatched secondhand furniture and the excessive wall coverings of vidmats and posters. Entering further into this apartment, though, one started noticing hints of something more high-tech. Cables and wires filled the nooks of nearly every doorframe and baseboard. There were at least two computers of varying sizes in every room, all of them running one thing or another. In the dining room on the left, a small laptop had been setup at an unfurnished plywood desk near the windows, and it looked to be playing its own game of solitaire. In the kitchen, a table model was folded away and leaning against an antique breadbox. The screen was black, but its cooling fan whizzed quietly. A third lay on the futon in a side bedroom, softly playing ambient dance music. Smaller, compact vidmats, phones and players lay everywhere. Caren took it all in, impressed by their ability to make the overabundance of techware seem normal. It was hard to imagine such a calm place housing the most feared jackers in Bridgetown. Completely wired and utterly domestic.\n\nA number of wires ran down the length of the high ceiling in the main hallway and met up in a large rear study which housed the main console — a massive workstation of five computers, twice as many screens, several dangling neural hookups, and countless other accessories and pieces of hardware. Most of the equipment had been secured to a steel frame arcing around its user like a cage, similar to an infotech engineer's workstation. Four monitors were constantly scrolling data that could be anything from DuaLife's latest genetics research to the financial earnings of NullCom, to the communications of the Bridgetown Police, Fire, and ARU departments. Three processors in the corner of the room encrypted all the information and fed it to the servers out at Vigil's other base on Sachers Island, south of the city proper.\n\nMatthew silently led them into the room and sat himself down within the cage. He glanced at a few of the monitors, tapped something on a few keyboards, and then turned to another. At this second computer he hammered away at the keyboard for a full three minutes, without word. Caren opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Muscles aching, she found an empty chair and sat down to wait. She thought of Denni; by now she was heading off to school.\n\n_Stay safe, Denni,_ she thought. _I know you're smart. Just stay safe._\n\n\"So...\" Matthew said, still tapping away. \"An awakening ritual. What do you have?\"\n\n\"Not much, I'm afraid,\" Poe said. \"Nothing you don't already have, I'm sure. Short version...shockwave hits the city, bleedover appears above the Mirades Tower, and some witnesses feel the energy reading they recognize. That's pretty much it. We have a few people doing field work right now.\"\n\nMatthew nodded silently, and finished off what he was typing. \"Okay,\" he said, finally turning in his seat. \"What do you need?\"\n\nPoe laughed nervously. \"Everything.\"\n\nThe corner of Matthew's mouth lifted in a half-grin. \"Starters?\"\n\n\"Names. Anyone from the Tower linked to adepts of the Mendaihu _and_ the Shenaihu, however distant.\"\n\nHe let out a low whistle. \"Tall order, Alec,\" he shook his head. \"Might take a while.\"\n\n\"Sooner the better, kid,\" he said. \"You know the playing fields better than I do.\"\n\n\"Fair enough,\" he said. \"I did a bit of work already. Dug up some of the more obvious choices for you to look in on. I went for the easiest ones first.\"\n\nPoe nodded. \"Hard copy?\"\n\n\"Not yet,\" he hedged.\n\nPoe sighed and shook his head. \"Don't push it, Matt. We've been up too long and you know I don't have anything in return that you don't already have.\"\n\n\"You have a theory. Both of you do.\"\n\nCaren heard Poe's knuckles pop. \"Bless it...I'm not in the fucking mood, kid.\"\n\n\"I just want to know what it is, is all. I can't give out private information to just anyone, you know.\" The kid cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, temporarily looking away. \"Let me put it this way. The two of you are some of the very few that I can trust in this town, don't get me wrong. I know I can give you whatever you need and know that you'll share it only with the necessary people, and no one else. But I need to know why you need this, before I can give it to you.\"\n\nPoe gave him a deathly stare. \"The One of All Sacred, Matthew. It's that time again. No one sets off an awakening ritual that wide, not even the revivals at the 'Drome. Something's up and we're looking at something potentially catastrophic here.\"\n\nMatthew studied him for a few moments. He hadn't flinched or grimaced; he merely nodded slightly and let it sink in. \"I'm inclined to agree,\" he finally responded. \"I can't promise everything, but I _might_ be able to get someone to help. If that's okay with you.\"\n\n\"Someone we can trust?\" Caren asked. \"No leaks?\"\n\n\"I completely trust her,\" he said with conviction. \"She'll be able to do the tracking work if you end up being right.\" He paused, looking away and tapping his knee. \"Anything else?\"\n\nPoe frowned, thinking before answering. \"Yeah. We need as much information on Shenaihu uprisings in the local area over the last two Sacred Cycles. What caused them, how they were settled.\"\n\n\"The last fifty years?\" Caren said, looking at him in surprise. \"A bit far back, don't you think?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"The farther back we go, the better. I'm looking at cycles, patterns, events. The enlightened are notoriously patient when it comes to uprisings. They can wait years between one attack and another. Makes no difference to them, they've been around as long as the Meraladians have been in the Universes.\"\n\nCaren had a sudden idea, despite her exhaustion. \"See if you can create any cyclic calendars as well,\" she said. \"We can compare them with other events and people, what was going on at the time. Put it into perspective of what went on before, compare it to what's going on now.\"\n\nMatthew thought about it for a few moments. \"Shouldn't be too much of a problem...I'll see if I can get someone at the Data Research Library to lend me a hand. Give me a few days on it and I'll call you.\"\n\nPoe relaxed, a soft, tired smile playing across his lips. \"Much appreciated.\"\n\nMatthew sat up and turned back to the monitors. \"In the meantime...\" he trailed off. He tapped at the keyboard again, much quicker this time, then abruptly stopped, hitting the last keystroke with a proud staccato finality. A few seconds later, he flipped open a drive, extracting a thin crystal rod. He placed the rod in a small plastic case and handed it over to him. \"Your hard copy,\" he said. \"This is what I got this morning. Just a few names and links. I admit there isn't much, but I haven't read through all of it myself yet.\"\n\nPoe took the data crystal and shoved it in his inside jacket pocket. \"By the way...do you suspect the Shenaihu as the impetus behind the Mendaihu's ritual?\"\n\nHe merely shrugged. \"Just a guess, really. Nothing this intense happens in B-town without the either one involved somehow, even if the Mendaihu were behind it. Could just be a rogue adept, but I doubt it.\"\n\n\"Why is that?\" Caren asked.\n\nMatthew's face brightened briefly. \"I learned from my dad how to read politics. From politics I learned how to read people. Again, I'm no sociologist, but I know the seeds of an uprising when I see one.\" He paused, glancing at his screen one last time, his expression fading as quickly as it had appeared. \"And this is a spiritual one, no doubt.\"\n\nCaren nodded...she hated the idea, but she understood. Both of them had avoided saying anything or admitting it to themselves, but Matthew was right. This was more than just a ritual or an uprising...it was an awakening, and one that would continue to affect Bridgetown — and eventually, possibly, the world — if it were not controlled.\n\nMatthew faced them again. \"Go talk to Reverend Miriam if you need a spiritual explanation,\" he said. \"He's over at Saint Patrick's up near your neighborhood, Poe. He should be able to explain it better than I could.\"\n\n*\n\nCaren finally reentered her apartment almost thirteen hours after she had last exited it. It was just past two in the afternoon, certainly not the first time she wandered home after a long shift with the sun shining high overhead. Such was the job of the ARU. She dropped her work duffel bag on the living room floor and groaned, every overtired muscle screaming for rest. And yet like damned clockwork, she couldn't stop her brain from heading off in twenty different directions at once. Every time...every damned time she and Poe were roped into a particularly intense case. Her muscles ached, her eyes stung, and her brain was stuck in overdrive. It was going to take hours for her to fall asleep.\n\nBut she was home again, and that meant more to her than anything else. She closed her apartment door, locked it, and leaned heavily against it, exhaling deeply. She scanned the small front room, searching for an anchor to quiet this chaos in her head. This constant, unending buzz in her brain, more intense than ever, that would not go away without a fight. It never did. But she was home...it always calmed her, one way or another. She enjoyed the familiarity of her surroundings, yet she now felt alienated from her own belongings. They were like a lucid dream...distant, forgotten, yet she knew them to be hers.\n\nAnd right now, she was too tired to fight it. She wouldn't find peace here. Not yet.\n\nShe escaped the front room to her own cave, her bedroom. It was still pathetically, distressingly out of order, just as she'd left it. Madeleine, her elderly next door neighbor and an old family friend, had taken care of their apartment when needed, but the woman would always leave Caren's bedroom for her to clean up. She rarely had the time to do so, but his was actually a good thing, because this mess added to the familiarity she needed. This was the one room out of the billions of rooms in the Sprawl that was truly hers and hers alone.\n\nDenni had taped a note on her bedroom door to say she was over at Madeleine's and would let her sleep in. Caren felt a knot in her stomach...she felt guilty that she had missed tucking her in for the night. That she'd missed seeing her off to school. Seeing her coming home. Of all the things she hated about this job, this was the worst. If this case was as big as she feared, there was a good chance she wouldn't be seeing her for days at a time. She stopped herself from getting angry, however...now was not the time. She was home and on familiar ground, and she desperately needed to sleep. Exhaling one last time, she got herself ready for bed. She'd have time enough for all that misplaced anger later.\n\nStepping back out of the bedroom moments later, she began her own post-work ritual with a series of long deep breaths and muscle stretches. She had freed herself from the uniform and pulled on a pair of overworn sweatpants, a stretched out and faded black tee shirt, and her hair draped loosely over her shoulders. Every hindrance, anything that held her back, had been willed away and disposed of. Her body and soul were free.\n\n\"...hra khera, hra mehra...\" she whispered in the Anjshé tongue, breathing slowly and fully. \"...hra khera, hra mehra...\" _To be here, to be at peace._ She repeated the mantra slowly with every breath, in her ritual to relax. It took her several minutes before she felt the beginnings of an inner calm, when her muscles no longer twitched and her brain had stopped racing. She would ignore hints of anger and distraction, instead focusing on that calm she so briefly held moments before. It was a tough ritual, one of the hardest she had to perform on herself, but she would not give up.\n\nThat was her problem...her brain was _always_ in overdrive. Always thinking, always plotting out scenarios in her mind. It made her the strong investigator that she was, but at the price of inner peace. This constant and directionless energy would plague her at the end of every shift. Her dreams were vivid, on the rare instances she had them, and her sleep was often short and restless. Some nights it would take her an hour to even attempt the first stages of sleep, and she'd often wake up multiple times throughout the night. Tonight would be no different, but she'd already accepted that.\n\nHra khera...hra mehra...\n\nThis was the only way she could reach her inner calm. The civilian Caren fought to surface, but Special Agent Johnson wouldn't let her out so easily. She stood center in the room, legs akimbo and her hands gently reaching out to opposite walls, and closed her eyes. She visualized the stress and fatigue in her body and gathered it together, within her soul. The excess energy swelled within this space, and with a deep breath and a push, it began draining through her and out her limbs, pouring out of her hands and feet, away from her like rainwater.\n\nHra khera...hra mehra...\n\nTo be here.\n\nTo be at peace.\n\n_Denni_.\n\nCalm.\n\nFinally, the tension inside her body began to melt away. Blood circulating evenly throughout her body now, energy balancing itself within her spirit. Every part of her being wound down, slowing down to a crawl, until everything within equaled all that was without. She pushed out a final deep breath, completed the ritual, and opened her eyes. Meekly, the civilian climbed out of her shell and assumed Caren's person, felt it safe to be there, and let the last of the tense energy disappear.\n\nShe brought her hands slowly together, fingers entwined, her index fingers resting on her lips as she nodded. Smiling, she opened an eye and glanced at a framed picture hanging on the wall in front of her. Aram and Celine Johnson watched over her, handsome and regal in their Mendaihu uniforms, smiling back at her. This was the same picture she saw in her lumisha dea, the one over the mantel at her parents' old house, but whenever she saw the real thing, it comforted her. She whispered a silent prayer to them, thinking of them fondly, and brought her hands back down. They had taught her that meditative technique when she was young, and it had never failed her. Satisfied, she turned to her living room sound system, and tapped a preset. Ancient Celtic rhythms filled the room with a soft, safe ambience.\n\nShe fell into the cocoon of the couch, and closed her eyes.\n\nSafe...\n\nThe spinning in her head wound down to a stable balance. \"...hra khera, hra mehra...\" she whispered again. She closed her eyes, taking in slow rhythmic breaths, and before she sought to thank her parents again, she was asleep.\n\n*\n\nAll is Light, my dearest.\n\nThe voice of a young man, someone she did not know, crept into her dreams and invaded the solace of her lumisha dea. No—not invading. Merely stopping by, saying hello. A friend. She hadn't had visitors here in years, so she hadn't expected to hear anyone here, ever. Who was it? It was a voice so desperately familiar, someone she'd known for a very long time. She knew this person well, but had forgotten him somehow. She risked a single thread of sensing, probing for the source.\n\nShe spoke quietly in her inner voice. _Who are you?_\n\n_I am a friend, dear_ , he answered. _You called me Anando._\n\nSomething deep within caught at her heart at the sound of that name, and without expecting it, her sensing thread whipped around and stretched out in front of her. It knew where he was, _who_ he was. Her spirit knew him, had known him for years. Decades. Lifetimes? Despite her natural wariness she followed the sensing thread, trusting it would bring her closer to him. _Why are you here?_\n\nAnando let out a small, joyful laugh. _If only you knew where you really were_ , he said. _You've met me before, Caren. Here on Trisanda._\n\n_What??_ A shiver ran through her body. Trisanda...the Meraladian homeworld? She couldn't have been there, light years away! Impossible! She had no ability to enter Light at will, nor had anyone else in her family. She was safe and sound in her apartment, snoring away on the couch.\n\n...or was she?\n\nOpen your eyes.\n\nShe felt warmth. Natural warmth, a sensation of sunlight on her skin. Curious, she opened her eyes.\n\nAnd indeed, all was Light. Pure energy, warm and inviting, enveloping her entire body in a cocoon, protecting her, and illuminating everything around her in a crystal clarity she'd never witnessed before. And it was absolutely, heart-achingly beautiful. It was...\n\nHome? She recognized this place, she was sure of it. She'd been here before, years, ages ago...lifetimes ago.\n\n_Anando,_ she whispered. _Where am I?_\n\nShe stood in a wide field of grass bordered by tall, narrow trees. The sun hung lazily in the afternoon sky, bringing out the vibrant colors of an autumn day. An extremely long wood table sat in the middle of this field, weighted down by plates and baskets of all kinds of meats, breads and vegetables, as well as bouquets of flowers and large, unlit candles. A hundred or so people surrounded the table, chatting and laughing excitedly. Something fantastic had happened, and they could not contain their glee. Though she couldn't quite make out the words, she understood that they were all speaking of someone's long-awaited return. Caren smiled despite herself; surely they weren't excited by her presence?\n\nMoving closer, she was startled by the fact that she recognized certain faces, those of people she was sure she didn't know in reality. Two men were having a heated discussion, each one trying to convince the other that they knew this prodigal someone personally; in her mind, they were friends and coworkers of her father's from when he was her age who loved to bicker at each other. Another man spoke in hushed tones to his beloved, promising her that he would introduce her to this someone, and she blushed and smiled at him; in her mind they were friends she'd known in school, a loving couple that had always been together. There were five siblings of varying ages, three boys and two girls, who were laughing and joking while they stuffed their face with the delicious food before them; in her mind, they were her younger sisters and brothers.\n\nAnd yet on Earth, in real life, they did not exist.\n\nShe could not deny this sense of closeness, of relation to them. Their aura...their essence felt so familiar, so _familial_ to her! Despite everything her mind told her, they were here, in front of her. She could hear them, see them...if she reached out, she could even feel them. She caught her breath — suddenly all made sense! This was not her lumisha dea at all, but truly another plane of existence. She really was on Trisanda! She'd found and recognized another family...her _astral_ family, her spiritual kin. And at that very moment, those closest to her turned, saw her, and acknowledged her. Some waved, but mostly she felt ripples of emotion, of affection...a soulsensing of love.\n\nFor a brief moment, she felt _this_ was her true home.\n\n_Anando,_ she whispered again. _Am I...?_\n\n_You are where you need to be,_ he answered. _I am here with you, because it was time for you to see this. I'm here for you. Keep that in mind, Karinna._\n\nShe shivered...those words, they were so familiar to her. He'd spoken them tenderly and honestly, at some point in the past...in the deep past. Her heart skipped a beat, fully expecting his next words. A memory, hidden deep within, not in her mind but in her spirit, had been safely hidden away —\n\n_I will be your guide and your anchor,_ he said.\n\nA stray tear left her eye and fell down to her quivering lips.\n\n... _allei aiya, Karinna._\n\nAnd in that very moment, a veil had been lifted.\n\nShe felt another, stronger ripple of emotion, a deep, unconditional love, stronger than anything she'd ever felt in her life. An energy within her soul that reached far past any emotional connection she'd ever had. It went beyond logic and reason, it went to the very heart of her being. This was her higher self. It was her Mendaihu self — no, it was higher than that...much higher in her spiritual consciousness than that. It was her Trisandi self. Her ancestral soul. Anando was... _Goddess...he's my..._ she gasped. Here, on Trisanda...he was her _cho-shadhisi_ , her soul mate! Her heart raced at the realization, and she shivered with both excitement and awe. From the deepest confines of her own soul, she knew this to be absolute truth. Anando had returned! He had come for her!\n\n... _allei aiya,_ she responded. _Anando...where have you been?_\n\n_On a long journey,_ he answered. _A soul-seeking journey._\n\n_Yes,_ she thought. _I remember._ He'd left for a deeper part of reality in search of...in search of what? The answer held itself away, just out of her reach. She knew she had this answer, but had forced herself to forget it. She stirred, frustrated.\n\n_I believe my journey was fruitful,_ he said. _We will speak of it soon._\n\nCaren trembled. Something ominous in those words. _Wait —_\n\n*\n\nCaren woke up with a stiff neck and the sound of a car alarm going off outside. It had grown dark; she guessed it to be some time in the early to mid-evening hours. Disoriented and surprisingly ravenous, she stared up at the ceiling in an attempt to get her bearings. A blanket partially covered her body, keeping her warm. She must have slept at least seven hours, uninterrupted...that was a personal record. The haze of fatigue still clouded her senses and she lay there for a good few minutes, trying to adjust to her surroundings again. Physically, she felt so out of it, it bordered on embarrassing to her duty as an agent for the ARU. Mentally, however...\n\nMentally, she felt perfectly fine. Alert. Centered. And that surprised the hell out of her.\n\nImmediately she thought of Denni. Food could wait—she wanted to see her sister first. Craning her neck, she could just about read the clock in the hallway. Indeed, it was close to nine in the evening. She expected her to be in her bedroom, finishing homework or reading. With some effort, she unwrapped herself from the blanket and pushed herself up. Slowly she made her way down the long hallway to the rear bedrooms, her bare feet making no noise on the carpet. Denni's door was closed, but she could see a dim light from just under it and muted beats of purepop music wafting through.\n\nShe rapped softly on the door. \"Den?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Denni mumbled, her voice laced with annoyance.\n\n\"Can I come in?\"\n\nThere was a pause; the sound of music stopping and Denni's grumbling. \"Door's unlocked.\"\n\nCaren bit her tongue. Her sister had every right to be angry with her, and let it go. She pushed the door open. Denni was sitting on her bed, tapping distractedly on her school tablet, scrolling through a text. She was quite diligent with homework for a kid her age, which made Caren proud. She never had to hover over her sister like most parents. It was a small comfort that she could trust her judgment in her absence.\n\n\"Hey,\" Caren said, attempting a smile.\n\n\"Hey,\" she responded flatly.\n\nNeither spoke for a few moments, instead testing each other's boundaries. Denni looked at her, not entirely with a cold stare, but not exactly a warm one either. She understood Caren's job, though, even at her young age. She understood that she wasn't mad at Caren directly, but at what Caren's job took from her. She also understood the danger Caren placed herself in almost every day. The longer she was away from her, the more anger she focused on her sister's job. That alone gave Caren even more incentive to change all that, starting now. She'd do her damnedest to be there for Denni, no matter what it took. She crossed the room and sat down next to her on the bed. \"Told you I'd come back to you,\" she offered, taking the girl's hand. She didn't pull away, and Caren breathed a sigh of relief. She smiled inwardly, knowing that deep inside, her sister would understand.\n\n\"Huh.\"\n\n\"Listen,\" she said, both hands grasping Denni's now. \"I know I missed seeing you today. Tell you the truth, I can't promise I'll be there every time you need me to be there--as much as I hate to say that, Denni, I can't lie to you. But I'm trying, sis. Goddess knows I'm trying.\"\n\nDenni's eyes met hers. Softened. She had forgiven her. \"I know,\" Denni said. \"Thanks.\" She reached over and gave her big sister a tight hug. \"I just get worried sometimes. Thanks for calling this morning.\"\n\n\"I'm glad,\" she said, smiling. She pulled away from the embrace and faced her. \"So what did I miss today?\"\n\nDenni beamed. She never talked much of what happened during the day when she came home from school, but always jumped at the chance whenever Caren asked. It was often talk about schoolwork, the local boys she swore she didn't like but flirted with anyway, and what she had done during lunch period with her best friend Amna. Caren listened with rapt attention, asking questions and laughing along with the jokes, enjoying this time, treasuring it.\n\nFor now, for a little while, it seemed as if everything had gone right again. Caren felt at ease with herself and with Denni. The awakening ritual, while still on her mind, was not first and foremost. She had done as much as possible workwise and let it rest. Poe could handle it if anything came up. Right now she had her sister, and that was all that mattered.\n\nLater on, after she had wolfed down leftovers and Denni had gone to sleep, Caren finally retired to her own room. Still distressingly out of order, it was nonetheless her sanctuary. Without changing out of her shirt and sweats, she climbed into her bed and closed her eyes. Sleep would come eventually, but for the first time in ages, her insomnia had not been caused by stress or nagging thoughts about her job. Instead, her thoughts were of the dream she'd had earlier. Only now did she let herself remember it in full detail, after she had made peace with her sister.\n\nAnando...?\n\nShe searched her mind for that name and came up with nothing, yet a faint hint of recognition had been tapped. She had to have met him somewhere, at some time. Try as she might, she could go no further than that, but it was a start. And given that it had not been an adverse recognition, she accepted it and let it go for the night. Glancing sideways at her bedside clock, she saw that it had not hit midnight yet, and reveled in that fact. She turned over, buried herself under the sheets, and closed her eyes.\nCHAPTER SIX\n\n_Poe_\n\nAmbient deepspacer music drifted from the car speakers, just underneath the squabble of the ARU commlink. Alec Poe paid little attention to the back and forth of his fellow officers, his mind instead on the meeting with the two Mendaihu siblings. He'd been avoiding the comm since yesterday afternoon, when the public fallout from the ritual had wound down to a guarded but steady calm. He certainly hadn't calmed down, not by a long shot, but he had to appreciate the public's willingness to assume all was back to normal for the time being. They knew better than to lose themselves in paranoia and fear, especially after Governor Rieflin's speech the other day. The man had pulled an amazing and unprecedented feat by being completely transparent about what was going on, a move his predecessors would never have taken. The man had gone live on all the channels the morning after the ritual and he didn't hold anything back. He explained the ritual in simple and understandable terms and whatever side effects it might have caused, and where anyone could go for assistance. It was an extremely dicey thing to do, but he'd pulled it off. The Sprawl may still be on edge, but at least they knew someone was in charge.\n\nHe shifted his car fluidly into the passing lane, streaming past a line of tour cars and family transports. The roads had been crowded over the past month and especially on I-91, the major north-south highway that cut its way through the province. The travel season was nearly over, and tourists were heading back home. He shot a glance at each of the drivers as he passed them. Their eyes were focused solely on the road ahead of them, determined to cover as many miles as they could before sundown...no one in the vehicles talked, or even gestured for that matter. They might not have shown it or talked about it, but they knew something was coming.\n\nHe shrugged off his discomfort, thinking about that night. It wasn't often that he pulled an all-nighter. How could he have slept? Unlike Caren, he had witnessed the entire ritual firsthand. For the rest of his life he would remember looking out his kitchen window at one in the morning, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the bleedover suddenly appear, as if the Goddess herself had made that deep, jagged incision into reality until it bled a rich crimson cloud of pure, unbridled spirit. He would remember the seconds it took for the initial pulse and the shockwave to reach him, not so much a thunderclap as a deep _tearing_ of the air and a blast of psychic energy that knocked him backwards and nearly eviscerated his inner soul. He would remember the time that dragged between those sounds and the fated call from Chief Inspector Farraway. Almost exactly five minutes.\n\nBut pure chance had him sitting at his window table, staring out at another loud and restless night in McCleever Sector.\n\nPure chance.\n\nHe'd almost forgotten why he couldn't sleep. It could have been any number of things...the heat and humidity turning his apartment into one big sweltering hotbox, or the students drunkenly hollering their way down the street as they hopped from one bar to the next, or the low flying BMP helicopters buzzing over his neighborhood and splashing their searchlights everywhere. Normally, he could sleep through all of that. Living in the same place all his life made him immune to most noises and distractions. He should have been in bed, blissfully unconscious to the world.\n\nHe'd found his answer much later, when he'd finally returned to his apartment after meeting up with Matthew. There was that... _unnatural_ discomfort in the air. He couldn't quite describe it any other way. The air was a bit too saturated, too stifling. The electricity in the air rose in anticipation of something wondrous and unknown. The night sounds faded away with the setting sun in empty echoes. It felt too disturbingly like the end of something old and familiar, and an awakening of something altogether new and frightening.\n\nDiscomfort as trivial and mundane as that would never have kept him awake in the past.\n\nHe'd wasted no time making his way over to Caren's apartment after Farraway's call. Sirens blaring almost all the way, he'd shortened the time to just over a half hour, a personal record even despite the traffic. Goddess, the traffic! A mass exodus from the Tower sector had turned all the major highways and thoroughfares into one giant mess, and he'd been lucky enough to have been minutes ahead of it. It bothered the hell out of him that he'd had to even go to Caren's in the first place, even despite the magnitude of the event. He hated himself for disrupting her life like that. Nearly thirteen hours he'd taken from her, away from her sister and her own life. And yet she kept the complaints to a minimum, bless her. She would never admit it, but she had more patience than anyone he knew.\n\nUpon finally reaching his apartment again the next afternoon, a mere seven hours' sleep did nothing. It was dreamless sleep, the kind that kept energy from him when morning came. Having an embarrassingly large meal and then sleeping for another five hours seemed to help, though just barely. Physically, though, it was rough. It was high time for an extended vacation. He'd never felt that exhausted in a long time, not since he was a rookie. The ritual, at least peripherally, had taken a lot more out of him than he'd expected, and in more ways than one. That didn't sit well with him, and it would continue to bother him until he did something about it. Unfortunately, that time was not now, and not for the immediate future. He'd have to make do with facing this fresh demon however he could, whenever he could. He thought this meeting was a good place to start, given the situation. He'd jumped at the chance to conduct it himself, even suggesting the location to Farraway. The Crest was Poe's one place of sanity in this Sprawl.\n\nSituated at the southernmost tip of Breed's Hill in the Provincial Wilderlands north of the city, the Crest was a wide stony ridge with a breathtaking view of central Bridgetown, from the west hills to the shore. Poe often made his way up there during their more intense investigations in order to disconnect himself from the world for a while. He'd stay up there for hours, sitting at his favorite rock outcropping, watching the city live its life apart from him. Bridgetown looked so much more peaceful, even beautiful, from that vantage point. It seemed fitting then, that he would meet the two Mendaihu agents on such neutral ground. He arrived at the gate moments later and pulled into a spot near the park's entrance.\n\nThe path past the iron gates wound for nearly a quarter mile up the backside of Breed's Hill before reaching the Crest. Poe took his time walking it, debating on how to best approach this duo. He'd met and dealt with all kinds of Meraladians in his life, and had all kinds of reactions to them...frustration, awe, confusion, friendship...try as he might to ignore the fact, they'd been around for over two hundred years but they were still alien to this world, and he would view them as separate from himself. He felt that way with everyone, really...it had nothing to do with them being alien and everything to do with his own feelings of being the Other. He knew enough of his past and his bloodline to know he was more than just human...but in the process, he didn't quite know where he fit in. He was Terran human, at least as far as he knew, but there were deeper questions that had remained unanswered. He'd made peace with all that long ago, however. He would react to the Meraladhza and respect them like he would any human he knew: by their words and their deeds.\n\nMeraladians were on average taller than humans by at least six inches. They weren't so much taller as they were larger in frame. They were also slightly darker in skin tone, almost a deep bronze hue. Most had dark and matted hair, though many living on Earth bleached or dyed it different colors. The Meraladian Mendaihu adepts wore their hair in very long double or triple ponytails, as their Mendaihu ancestors on Trisanda once had.\n\nBy far, their most unique characteristics were their psionic abilities. Meraladians were conscious of any attention being paid to them. They knew when they were being watched, even being glanced at. Most simply ignored it, but others acknowledged it by waving or nodding with a polite smile. Over time it had become just another social norm. Most Meraladians were also adept at thought reading to some extent, or 'soulreading' as it was commonly called, and it was different from innerspeak. It wasn't so much a literal mind reading as it was a reading of the nuances in a person's brain patterns and making guesses from there. They couldn't tell when a person was thinking of a bowl of fruit on a table; they could, however, tell the person was thinking of centering an object somewhere. After that, it was a matter of close listening and logical guesswork.\n\nHuman emotion, however, they could read with ease. It wasn't just the physical cues that humans displayed without thinking, such as fleeting eye contact or fidgeting hands, that any trained person could pick up on...it was a reading of the chemical messages to the person's brain as well as their soul's vibration. If a person was terrified, for instance, their spirit gave off an intensely strong and fast vibration that a trained Mendaihu could hear if they listened closely. And if the target was nervous but wary, the vibration was obviously much slower, though the strength remained. Meraladians had two centuries' worth of Earth presence to learn the nuances of the landscape of human emotion, and it hadn't taken them long to perfect it.\n\nThe trees surrounding the path thinned out to brush and curved into the opening above the Crest. It was a gorgeously sunny day, making the view of the city even more breathtaking. Akaina and Ashyntoya Shalei stood near the edge, taking in the sight. They'd definitely sensed his arrival, but were doing the polite thing and not acknowledging it first. They both wore the uniforms of the Mendaihu elite force, long black coats with the gray patch of the Mendaihu sigil, two intersecting white circles standing on end symbolizing multiple realities, stitched on the right shoulder. Both wore their black hair in a long triple ponytail that reached down towards the middle of their backs.\n\nHe cleared his throat and stepped forward. \"Somfei,\" he said, voice wavering. \"I am Special Agent Alec Poe, ARU. Welcome to Bridgetown.\" They smiled and turned to face him — definitely in that order, not the other way around — and bowed in his direction. They were both quite handsome, he'd noticed. They had curving jaw lines, Akaina's slightly softer and more feminine. Both had the rounded and smallish nose, wide mouth, and piercing dark eyes, typical of the Shalei clan.\n\n\"Agent Poe,\" the man said in a calm, even tone. \"I am Ashyntoya Shalei.\" He placed both of his hands over Poe's, a Mendaihu gesture of total trust and a plea for the same. \"Please, call me Ashan. This is my sister, Akaina.\"\n\n\"I'm honored to meet you, Agent Poe,\" Akaina said, taking his hand. \"I've heard much about the Branden Hill HQ. Your work is exemplary. And please, call me Kai.\"\n\nPoe quickly cleared his throat, hoping he wasn't blushing right now. He felt he did good work, but felt 'exemplary' was definitely not the word he'd have used. \"Thank you, and thanks for coming,\" he said, giving her a customary nod. \"Agent Johnson and I appreciate the help.\"\n\nAshan cocked an eyebrow. \"It is our duty, Agent Poe. We feel this case should be of the highest importance. We're proud to help. Come, let's walk to the edge.\" Ashan led the way towards the Crest overlook, Poe behind him and Kai trailing behind.\n\n\"Has Chief Inspector Farraway filled you in on everything?\" Poe asked.\n\nAshan nodded, already distracted by something in the direction of the city. Poe could see the gears already starting to turn in the man's head, a sudden and deep concentration on whatever had caught his eye. Poe smiled, seeing a similarity between Ashan and Caren. The two seemed to be in a constant state of thought. He knew he wouldn't be getting any more words from Ashan for the next few minutes.\n\n\"We've been sent the preliminary data,\" Kai said, answering for her brother. Her voice was low and warm. \"Whoever had performed the ritual knew what they were doing, and knew the outcome. I should add that both Ashan and I agree that, within the delicate balance between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, it is extremely rare that anyone would have gone to such lengths...though we understand what they were trying to accomplish.\" She paused thoughtfully, glancing out at the city. She was drawn to it just like her brother, but with less distraction. She turned back to Poe and smiled. \"However, before we go into any detail, I'm curious, Agent Poe...I'd like to know your thoughts.\"\n\nHe blinked, the question unexpected. He thought about it for a few moments before answering. \"Well, first off...tell you the truth, I think—no, I sense a Mendaihu performed the ritual, and not just to create chaos...he had a reason for it, otherwise it wouldn't have been an Awakening. I've monitored large-scale rituals about the size of a small auditorium, but nothing as big or as strong. You'd think a _braudha_ of Mendaihu set it off, but...\" He trailed off and glanced ahead towards the city. In the distance, the Mirades Tower rose high above everything, watching over the Sprawl like a sentinel. He shivered unexpectedly, and turned back to Kai. \"I admit I'm not quite convinced of the motive,\" he added as an afterthought. He paused, looking her in the eyes. He didn't want to say it, but he felt he had to. \"Caren and I believe it may have been aimed at the Shenaihu. Like it was the first volley.\"\n\nIf there were any reactions to his words, they kept it well hidden. They approached the Crest's edge, mere feet away from Poe's usual meditation spot, and looked out over the city. A flock of BMPD helicopters dotted the air above the Main Street and South City Sectors, the busiest and most populated neighborhoods at this time of day, monitoring the area. Lines of multihued skyscrapers, reflecting sunlight, seascape, and the countless other buildings surrounding them, rose up gracefully in height in a slow arc towards the Tower, as most skylines in this type of province would. The blackness of the Tower, though, reflected little except its coldness.\n\n\"What was the initial public reaction?\" Kai asked.\n\n\"People were more alarmed by the shockwave than the bleed,\" Poe said. \"All told, I believe there were no fatalities where the ritual was the main cause, and the number of injuries is negligible. Psychologically, however? Scared the hell out of a lot of us at the time, but once we saw there wasn't any real physical damage, a lot of us went back to our lives. We're worried, but we're not terrified. The official gauge of public reaction right now is that of guarded concern.\"\n\n\"No hysteria, then,\" Kai nodded.\n\nOh, how he wanted to respond to that! He'd heard from some of his connections that most of the hysteria had been concentrated within the halls of the Tower — to be more precise, within the confines of the Provincial Governor's Council. Rieflin's cabinet members were pissing themselves with fear and couldn't agree on how to move forward, especially after his revelatory speech. The humans had responded to the event predictably and wished to use force as a preventative measure. The Meraladians, on the other hand, suggested letting it play out longer, fully understanding the spiritual connotations of the ritual. They were officially at a stalemate.\n\nPoe decided to keep the politics out of it for now. \"Officially, no,\" he said after a moment. \"There are pockets of unrest, mostly in the Warehouse and East McCleever districts, maybe a bit in South City, but nothing serious. The ARU has that under control. Why the Tower was targeted, though...I really couldn't tell you. I mean, we have a few ideas, but...\"\n\nAshan hummed absently. He was looking out over the Sprawl, lost in thought, nodding again, until he closed his eyes. The head movement ceased and breathing slowed, his body becoming unnaturally still. Poe glanced at Kai, but did not say anything to break the silence. She caught his eye then looked back at her brother. She knew precisely what he was doing. She held out a tentative hand to Poe, motioning for him to take it.\n\nNervously but without question, he grasped it. If a Mendaihu wanted to make a physical connection, it meant they were going to show you something you could not see or perceive on your own. It could only be seen through their eyes, through their spiritual vision, and it was going to be something important, and something you would never have experienced before in your life. Kai looked into his eyes one last time to ensure he was prepared, and gave him a soft smile. He started to speak, but everything went dark —\n\nThen, just as quickly, all was Light. Pure, blinding white Light. Light that _burned_.\n\nPoe let out a terrified gasp, unable to speak.\n\nI'm showing you this because I have to, Alec.\n\nWas that Kai's voice...? Not just in his head, but all around him...comforting, soothing.\n\nThis is how we are. How we all are.\n\nAn overwhelming rush of sensations hit him square on and sent him reeling. Every image appeared in superfine detail, every single sound heard with crystalline clarity. The wind sounded like an ocean, the birdsong back near the entrance sounded like angelic singing. The visions before him so sharp he thought they would cut into him like blades. It took nearly all of his strength to push it all back to a level he could comprehend. And it was only then that he finally heard it...pure, wordless emotion called out to him grasping at his very soul. Voices, surrounding him, everywhere. So many voices...all without direction. And he could read each one separately, detecting each nuance, each tone as if he had the knowledge of every single living person in the Sprawl. It was dizzying, frightening, and addictive, all at the same time. Yet underneath, he could hear it...underneath it all...the sound of cleansing...\n\nPoe felt the city.\n\nThe city was slowly healing.\n\nHe forced his hand free of her grasp. He opened his eyes and stared wide-eyed at Kai, speechless and completely terrified...but he understood. He felt the heightened awareness of both Ashan and Kai as they scanned the Sprawl, attempting to grasp a better understanding of the Awakening. Experiencing all of this through the guidance of the Mendaihu was truly like a spiritual veil being lifted from his very soul, and there was nothing else in the human world that could even come close. It was transcendence.\n\n_Please, Alec. We must do this. I will lead you._ She smiled at him, a smile of trust and protection, and took his hand again —\n\n— and the three stood on the Crest, as they did in reality, watching the city. Everything was in sharpest focus, in far finer detail than he could ever comprehend. The Sprawl had become a matrix of sharpened edges, minute vibrations, and unyielding light. He could parse only a fraction of what Kai and Ashan could sense...yet with all three of them connected, he felt a completeness. His soul resonated with Kai's, and hers with her brother's. Poe understood all of this, understood what it meant, even though he couldn't sufficiently put it into words. All he could do was feel it. They watched over the city as protectors. And for the moment, even he was part of this; at that moment, even as an anchor to mere human reality, he was also Mendaihu.\n\nTogether they sensed the bruised tension and the traumatized scars upon the souls of Bridgetown, the rippling waves of living souls and wavering tendrils of the astral traveler, and he could not help but shed a few tears for them. The late morning breeze pushed at them, an air full of pain and confusion. Yet there was something else...something they recognized as malevolence. It fed off the pain, fed off the fear of the city. Not out of blind hunger, but out of necessity, in order to survive. Because it _had_ to. It ran deep, an instinct passed down countless Meraladian generations, and it had been awakened. It harkened back to the ancient days on Trisanda...the true Meraladhza home. Ashan and Kai had never been to the planet, either by ship or by soul projection, but deep inside, they held the seed of their Trisandi origins. They all did, Meraladian and human alike. This disturbing familiarity with the black essence originated there, in that seed, in their hearts. They felt it now, the same iciness that had once plagued Trisanda, nearly killing it. Kai and Ashan knew this, and Poe could sense it just as deeply.\n\nYet still...they knew the healing process had started. Underneath it all, they felt the balancing spark working to repair what the shockwave had torn the night before. They were healing.\n\nAshan stood beside Kai, eyes closed and a deep frown contorting his face. He breathed slowly and deeply, listening. He could hear the tone of those essences, more keenly than she could feel them. His gift of soulhearing could pick up the intricacies where mere soulsensing like Kai's could not. With the three of them linked together, Poe felt for the first time just how _intense_ the energies of the Sprawl were. He heard the city's energies through Ashan, felt its flow through Kai...and saw it for the first time in a new way, all on his own.\n\nPoe felt Kai's hand drop out of his. His eyes still closed, the images of the Sprawl slowly faded from view, leaving traces of colors and shapes against his eyelids. The warmth of energy and light receded deep into the background, still there but now out of reach. Soon he was cold and trembling, breathing slowly.\n\n\"Ashan?\" she whispered.\n\n\"Cold,\" her brother answered.\n\n\"What do you think?\" she asked.\n\n\"Feels like rain,\" he said quietly.\n\nPoe opened his eyes, squinting from the late morning sun over the ocean, his vision back to normal. He was at the halfway point between dream and reality, in control but not fully aware. What did Ashan just say? Rain? He frowned, trying to focus at the sky above the city. Hardly a cloud. He closed his eyes again, about to yawn —\n\nAnd for a brief moment, all was Light again. He'd returned to that Light, all on his own. Shimmering, encompassing energy, reaching out for him, trying to awaken him, devour him —\n\nGoddess!\n\nOpened his eyes wide and gasped for air. And a second later, it was gone.\n\nWhat did I just...see??\n\nLight. He saw Light, all on his own! He shuddered. It was bleedover from his guided entry into that otherwhere, a memory puddle temporarily tripping him back into that sensation of ascended reality. He felt nervously calm, maybe a bit giddy, like he'd just gotten away with something. His hands were still shaking, but only slightly. Almost in control again. He took deep breaths, and focused on Ashan.\n\nAshan huffed in frustration and glanced at Kai, then back at the city. He continued the conversation as if Poe's sudden hallucination hadn't happened. \"I'm not sure yet. Definitely some Shenaihu involvement, but...\" he frowned. Kai nodded and followed his gaze. Their focus was purely on the Mirades Tower. They seemed to be studying it, _translating_ it into some wordless language Poe could only grasp at, spinning head or not. Perhaps that was what he had felt in that other, sharper world. The hawk's eye of vigilance and the heightened frequencies that were a part of everything in the universe. A near-complete _oneness_ with everything.\n\n\"But what?\" she prompted.\n\n\"I can't tell.\" He turned to her again. \"And you?\"\n\n\"Definitely cold,\" she said. \"Almost a feeling of tension spilling over.\"\n\nHe flashed a grin at her. \"Interesting choice of words, _eichi_. I wouldn't quite put it that way, but still, I have to agree. We're on the edge right now, we'd have to go further in to know for sure.\"\n\nKai paused before continuing. \"You didn't recognize it?\" He did not answer, his smile fading. He glanced to the west of the city, towards the highway that snaked its way through and out. Kai turned to Poe with the intention to ask the same question, but stopped short, finally seeing his ashen face. Immediately she stepped to his side, ready to reach out to him. \"Alec? Alec, are you okay?\"\n\nHe looked at her, his eyes slightly swimming. His head spun, but his inner mental workings felt calm and serene. He felt pleasantly drunk. He pursed his lips in an attempt to hide his amusement; they hadn't noticed his physical reaction, only that he'd come out of that side trip mentally unscathed. \"...Akaina.\" He managed a smile. \"That...was probably the most _unnerving_ experience I've ever had. I think I'll let that one soak in before we do it again.\"\n\nKai bowed her head, blushing. \"I do apologize, Alec. I should have warned you.\"\n\nPoe shook his head and waved away the apology. \"No way you'd have been able to. I don't think many humans have the correct words for what I just saw. But thanks.\"\n\nShe touched him lightly on the shoulder, a comforting affirmation. Two seconds later he felt an uncontrolled shiver run down his back, followed by an unexpected but welcoming calm. He no longer felt dizzy. The anxiety he'd felt since yesterday had gone away, leaving him centered and relaxed.\n\nThat had been Kai's doing just then. With just a quick second's touch, she had changed his metabolism and psyche. _Soulhealer_ , he thought, silently thanking her. He nodded graciously towards her.\n\n\"So what do we do?\" he asked.\n\n\"First we gain access to the Mirades Tower,\" he began.\n\nPoe winced at him. \"Good luck. Caren and I have been trying to get it since this whole thing started. Security's pretty damn tight down there right now, and I don't blame them. Might be a few days before anything happens.\"\n\n\"Physically can come later,\" Ashan mused. \"I'm thinking more along the lines of the network.\"\n\nPoe shivered. \"...network?\"\n\nAshan frowned. \"Something wrong?\"\n\n\"Oh — you mean _spiritual_ network,\" he said, laughing nervously. \"For a moment there I thought we were going to resort to using jackers.\"\n\n\"There are countless legal resources we can tap into. Have any of the local industries made any inquiries?\"\n\n\"Where should I start?\" he said. Close to eighty percent of Bridgetown's commerce had queried the Governor about an economic reaction within the first hour of the shockwave, more than twice the usual number of responses during a similar disaster. Poe had to remind himself to think like a businessman when it came to these companies. \"Well, probably DuaLife and Khema-Jamison-Shimura. They're always chasing us up for something, since they're joint Terran-Meraladian companies. They've already contributed to city repairs.\"\n\n\"Good, good...\" he said flatly. Clearly he wasn't that impressed, merely content enough that someone was footing the bill. Poe understood and felt the same way.\n\nKai stepped up. \"Any religious factions?\" she asked.\n\n\"Nobody out of the ordinary,\" he said. \"Every church in Bridgetown offered support for the injured and displaced. Saint Paddy's on Ormand Street is taking in the emotionally distraught, although I hear there aren't too many.\"\n\nKai warmed to that. She looked out at the city again, this time with a hint of pride. \"It's good that the One of All Sacred is still held dear in this age.\"\n\nPoe let out a grunt that wasn't supposed to be heard, but made no attempt to hide it. \"Sorry,\" he said. \"I grew up cynical.\"\n\nAshan glared at him. \"Agent Poe...humans, on the surface, show reactive emotions quicker than true emotions. What you felt today went _much_ deeper than either of those. What you have witnessed is the _soul's_ emotion. Yes, the city is healing itself. Yes, there are those in the city who are awakening. The tide of fear has already given way to renewal. As much as your kind hates to admit it, you are just like us.\"\n\nPoe smirked, shaking his head. \"Don't get me wrong, Ashan, I completely agree. But don't get me started with the psychology. I'm on the ARU...I've had _that_ conversation too many times.\"\n\nAshan studied him for a moment, mirroring Poe's expression. \"I imagine you have.\"\n\n\"Caren and I will check out the religious contacts today,\" he continued. \"Contacting the industries might take longer though. Commerce has a habit of tripping all over itself at the most inopportune moments. Federal procedures, screening, covering their asses, that sort of thing.\"\n\n\"Reminders of the Eighth Embodiment?\" Ashan asked.\n\n\"More than likely,\" he nodded, noting how easily the man had breached that subject. If Ashan and Kai weren't afraid to bring up that event, then he wasn't going to hold back either. \"It'll take at least another day or so to get things back to normal. If they're not dropping everything to help, they're picking up what's left to earn a profit.\"\n\nKai nodded. \"You will find that anywhere you go, Alec.\"\n\nPoe shrugged. \"Still, I'm sure DuaLife and KJS will be the first to respond. I've already got eyes and ears on it. Anything we should ask them straight up?\"\n\nAshan narrowed his eyes at him. A strange reaction that made Poe uncomfortable. \"No, not really,\" he said. \"At least not right away. But you're a profiler, Alec. I imagine you would want to better understand them. Listen to them, Alec. You obviously have the ear for it.\"\n\nPoe frowned. \"What the hell is that supposed to mean?\"\n\nHe merely laughed. \"You tell me, Agent Poe.\"\n\nPoe glared at him, quite sure that his words were a comment on his bloodline. He'd been given up for adoption, but he knew enough to know that he had a bit of Meraladian blood in him, that he could take that next step, just like Caren, and join the Mendaihu adepts. Ashan's words were an underhanded comment on his true surname, Eiyashné...the clan of listeners. He'd said that not as a provocation however, but to let him know he was aware of what kind of person Poe was. He shook his head and let it drop.\n\n\"Are we all set here, then?\" he asked. \"Anything else you'd like to cover?\"\n\n\"I believe we are fine for now,\" Ashan said. \"We shall of course update you on anything that may come up in our own research.\"\n\n\"Let me know how we can best reach you,\" Kai added.\n\nHe pulled out a business card and scribbled his and Caren's home numbers on them, and handed it to her. \"Listen,\" he said, crossing his arms. \"I want to head back to HQ and bring Caren up to speed. Again, welcome to Bridgetown, and thank you again for your assistance. We deeply appreciate it.\"\n\n\"You are most welcome,\" Ashan said. \"Oh — and Alec...\"\n\nPoe arched an eyebrow at him.\n\n\"...faith, my friend. Remember to have faith.\"\n\nHe shook his head in exasperation. \"Yeah,\" he said flatly. \"Sure thing.\"\n\nKai touched him on the shoulder. \"At least trust us.\"\n\n\"Oh, that I do.\" Poe smiled briefly at her, nodding. Again, Poe knew enough of the Mendaihu to trust them when asked. It was the _feeling_ he got from them. At least that was how he would describe the sensation. They practically radiated this trust at him. It was a guarded trust, the only kind he knew, but it was trust nonetheless.\n\n\"Before I go, I just want to say this one thing,\" he said, and stepped closer to the both of them. \"I'm still not sure where the hell it was you took me today, but you have my word. I trust you not because the two of you have an impeccable record. And I'm not trusting you simply because you're Mendaihu.\" He paused, letting himself come up with the right words. \"Let's just say I trust you because, while we were off in that...that _otherness_ , I could read the two of you, as clearly as you can probably read me. And what I saw, what I felt — I knew I could trust wholly. You don't need words or an oath, or anything else for that matter, to gain my trust. You have it now, without question.\" He nodded graciously to them, a smile on his face. \"Dehndarra Né hra nyhndah, eicho d'eichi. Peace, love and light to you both.\"\n\nThe shocked look on Ashan's face was priceless. \"...and to you, Agent Poe,\" he managed, eyes wide. \"I...I didn't realize you followed the One that deeply.\" Kai giggled at him; apparently he'd left an impression on both of them as well.\n\n\"There's quite a bit people don't realize about me, Ashan,\" he grinned. He turned and left.\n\nCHAPTER SEVEN\n\n_Nehalé_\n\nThe last time Nehalé Usarai sensed this much excited energy in the air, he'd been a young Mendaihu in training, running through the training fields and the emptied outpost towns deep in the Wilderlands. He must have been no older than maybe twelve years, and it had been his first training session away from his family. He and a dozen other kids had been brought by their _sehndayen-ne_ to an abandoned town far west of Bridgetown for two weeks of real life experience. After three straight years of theory and heavily monitored practice, they were now to live the real thing, monitored only from a distance. Nehalé had been a natural at leadership, and had managed to get the rest of the kids involved in creating a miniature society of their own. He'd assigned each kid according to their own ability and strength, and within three days they were functioning as a living town of pure, positive cho-nyhndah energy of both Mendaihu and Shenaihu. They had passed the test with high marks, the highest for an Earth-based test in decades. He would continue his training for years more, but he would never forget the thrill he felt when they'd got that town up and running, and that purity. It felt _right_ somehow...he'd never felt that lovely balance before or since. It had become his life's aim to recreate that.\n\nNehalé had been listening carefully to the spirits of Bridgetown for the past day and a half, focusing on the changes in the air and the music that was the song of the soul. He was desperate to witness the outcome of his Awakening ritual, desperately hoping that he had done the right thing. He'd played an extremely dangerous game with Fate that night...a Declaration of Awakening of that magnitude had certainly upset the natural harmonies of that music, creating dissonance and confusion. That spiritual balance had nearly lost its way, nearly falling into chaos. Only now, after it was all over and his head had cleared, did he realize just how close he'd come to destroying that balance and turning it into something worse than anything the Shenaihu could have created. Only his strength, patience, and commitment to finishing the ritual properly had kept that from happening. If it were any other time, any other situation...any other _place_ than Bridgetown, a mass awakening ritual would not have been disastrous...it was only now, in this time and place, that such chaos would be present. He wanted to think of it as an evolution, the end of one cycle and the start of another, when the energies at play were at their most sensitive, easily influenced by whatever wind came by.\n\nThe spirits had found their voice again, minutes after he'd completed his ritual. The silence that would have followed, if the declaration had not worked, would have been more painful, more torturous than if it hadn't been performed at all. For if they had not sung...all would be lost. There would have been no guardians to watch over this beloved planet. No balance of Mendaihu and Shenaihu, only chaos.\n\nYet beyond all expectations, the Song continued on. The overwhelming silence of sleeping spirits had ended. It was _all_ music now, filling every corner of the city, every atom in the air. Spiritual energy once dissonant became harmonic, the souls of the city reacting and interacting with each other fluidly, and they were aware of it now. Every one of them out there, they finally understood.\n\nHe had done the right thing after all, despite his fears.\n\nNehalé pushed himself up and walked to the edge of the apartment roof to get a better view of the city, and of Branden Hill Park below him. At this time of day, he could find many of the students from nearby Spender College enjoying a break in their studies, and older neighbors sitting on the concrete benches and enjoying the warm weather with a book or a picnic. A few younger kids played ball in the field off to his left, where the park made its slow arc down to Ormand Street. A young couple lounged halfway up the hill on a blanket, leaning in close and laughing quietly, gently touching each other like lovers would. A few students gathered in a circle closer to the subway station near the far south corner, having quite the animated discussion. Nehalé laughed to himself, amused by the show of such positive energy from everyone. He could feel it from here, warming him and beckoning him to join in.\n\nHis lifted his head to face the Mirades Tower. By sight, the dark monolith stood rock still and lifeless, perhaps a reaction to what he'd put it through. The tower had a magnificent barrier borne out of a network of intertwining energy shields, created twenty years previous to protect those within from any outside harm, physical or otherwise. This had been one of the deciding factors on where to perform his ritual. While those within may or may not have been affected, the barrier had definitely shielded them from any further damage.\n\nWhat he hadn't expected, however, was the change in the spirit song just outside the barrier.\n\nEarlier today he'd heard the mesmerizing refrains of that song of the spirits, clear as a lifted veil. Otherworldly voices had swirled into his range of hearing, praising the light and the life they had been given. The souls fed off the light of that sun, just as the physical state craved nourishment; the energy of that light replenished the soul, empowered it. The potential for the soul to reach out and become more than itself grew with this power.\n\nThey are the Gharné — the true ascendants of Trisanda.\n\nHe closed his eyes and listened to the thousands of spirit voices of this otherwise quiet neighborhood of Branden Hill. They were all there, young and old, strong and invalid, each one of them affected by his ritual. They were as yet unaware of its true strength, only that they had woken up the next morning feeling somehow refreshed. Many had simply written it off as having had an especially restful night's sleep. This positive vibe had continued well into the next day, and it was of course welcomed without question. All that time, Nehalé listened as the energy of compassion and understanding ebbed and flowed through each person, lifting them ever closer to an enlightenment they did not know they deserved.\n\nA whisper of air moved past him, sending a shiver through his body. Someone was awake! Nehalé latched onto that one breeze, that one thread of energy, brighter and keener than any other energy surrounding him, following it as it surged, spiraling in towards the Tower, and then up — the Tower acting as a transmitter to the universes — and exploding into the air above it. Regardless of the evil that might be hidden within those walls, regardless of its unreflective black polycrete and glass, the Tower served its intended Mendaihu purpose, filtering the souls' energies with its surface, swirling together in a confluence above the city.\n\nThe Rain of Light.\n\nHe dared not look with unveiled eyes...its brilliance would blind him permanently. Instead he closed them and faced skyward, and let the sensations speak for themselves. He felt the Rain falling back down onto him and everyone around him like a refreshing spring shower, washing away tension and frustration. He reveled and embraced this Rain, the energy given up then given back. Anything sent up into the stream came back revitalized and multiplied by the light and energy of the sun and the universe. Nehalé smiled, knowing now that his ritual had truly worked. The Rain of Light washed through him, exciting every fiber, every nerve within him. This is what he had awakened that night, more than any other spirit in this city...he had awakened the Rain of Light, given it motion and life.\n\nAnd yet...he still felt the cold, and he knew from whom it came.\n\n_The silencers remain,_ he thought. He breathed slowly, the affirmation calming his growing unease. The cold...the imperfection in the Rain, the poison in the Soul, had always been there, and always would be. The imbalance remained, even past his cleansing, casting its own dark clouds.\n\n_It is time to congregate,_ he thought, letting out a sigh. He stood on the edge of the tenement building, looking out over the Branden Hill neighborhood.\n\nListening, all was peaceful.\n\nAll is Light...\n\nHe stepped off the edge, into midair. Stepped off midair into nothingness —\n\n*\n\n— and stepped back out of the nothingness into midair with an almost inaudible snap of air, landing midstride onto the sidewalk of Ormand Street in the McCleever District, still west of the highway. Not that much of a distance from where he'd been, perhaps a few miles at most. He found the pace of the sidewalk crowds and wove himself through at a decent clip, sensing and listening to the spiritsong within each person he passed by. The mood was jovial here, expectant...these people knew what he'd done, even if they hadn't yet figured out he was now among them, and they were eagerly awaiting the next phase.\n\nMany had chosen to congregate in this neighborhood, at the Sacred Church of Saint Patrick just down the street. Once a disused house of worship nearly a century ago, Followers of the One had resurrected it as a communal church for the polytheistic believers of the Sprawl. As the Followers knew and sensed their kind, and their practices were not restricted to houses of worship, they had no spiritual claim on the building, other than to retain its intended use. Those ostracized from their own congregations, the spiritually curious, or those simply wishing their own religious freedom were all welcome. Those who came lately, however, were those deeply entrenched within the realm of the One: the Warriors, the Prophets, the Elders, the Protectors, and the Listeners, Nehalé included.\n\nThe awakened presence was strong here. The church loomed before him, placed tightly in between two modern office buildings. It was by no means grand architecture and had been renovated and rebuilt many times over its history. But as one of the few original churches left in the Provinces to survive nearly seven hundred years of weather and human events, and thus outlasting even recent Meraladian history, it was a rare vision of the past and retained its simple beauty. The artistry in its arches, the gentle reach of the spires, the dozen statues of saints lining the walkway leading up to the front stairs, the ornately colored glasswork depicting scenes of religious fervor...all of it negated the sleek design of the utilitarian offices and tenements surrounding it. It was beauty out of place.\n\nHe strolled up the walkway, climbed the short stairs and stopped under the front portico to take in the view. It was no more than thirty yards long and about twenty wide, paved with concrete and lined with cobblestone accents. He calculated by sight how many people could comfortably fit on the front walkway, and came up with the absurdly low number of a few hundred. He shook his head...no, this would be too small for what he had in mind.\n\nHe opened up the heavy doors and stepped into the narthex of the church, a dark yet warm presence enveloping him in the wide and dimly lit front hall. Instantly he felt the dizzying swirl of energies of the spiritsongs flooding the air, and the sounds of the city outside fading to a muted hum. He took in a deep breath of warm air and incense, and smiled. _Trisanda..._ He closed his eyes. For a brief moment, he felt homesick for the planet he had never set foot on. Trisanda, a paradise where all souls were equal in the eyes of the One of All Sacred. The homeworld where the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu were in perfect balance with each other. He knew of no one who had actually been there in his lifetime, and yet the ancient spiritual memories of the Meraladhza were strong in each and every person here on this planet. Trisanda, the ancestral homeworld of all here on _Gharra_. They would understand that, soon enough.\n\nA hand dropped onto his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. The man's spiritual energy felt like a stinging burst of heat through his upper torso and he flinched, gasping. He opened his eyes and turned swiftly to see a priest smiling at him.\n\n\"Forgive me for startling you,\" the man said.\n\n\"Oh — uh, quite alright, _fadayin_ ,\" Nehalé said, nervously returning the smile and hiding his still shaking nerves. He felt the warm, protective embrace, not from a person but from a _presence_ , the same that he felt when he'd first entered. He felt it most strongly within the priest, a deep understanding of what it was like to be truly spiritual, truly _Meraladhza_. The priest projected his aura everywhere around him and Nehalé drowned in it. This man was Mendaihu, like him...only much, _much_ stronger than he could ever hope to be. He shivered with excitement and reverence. Nehalé stood, wiping his eyes and forcing himself not to stare at the aged man. There was no mistaking the essence he felt around the man. An old Mendaihu in soul; possibly once part of the Council of Elders on Trisanda...\n\n\"I am Reverend Edward Miriam,\" the priest said, waving his hand behind him. \"I am a Protector of the One of All Sacred. Come, join us in mass.\"\n\nThe priest opened the heavy inner doors and led him down the central aisle of the church. It was wide enough to fit ten men across shoulder to shoulder, or just enough space for a small ritual cleansing ceremony. Sunlight shone from the clerestory windows above, illuminating not only the pews below but also the centuries of dust kicked up in this old church. Nehalé walked dazedly behind the man, humbled by all he saw and felt. No, there was no way he would use this for his own congregation...it would be heresy to do so. The Reverend led him to an empty pew, then made his own way to the transept crossing, where he turned around and faced his followers. Nehalé's eyes now accustomed to the darker, musty tones brought on by candle and ambient lighting; there were far more people here than he'd noticed walking in, almost all bent over in prayer or meditation. There must have been at least a hundred or so here; a small number for such a large church, but nonetheless a surprisingly high number for a midday service.\n\nAgain, he felt the essences of those around him, a Song of Faith whispering to the One. This song, quite different from the everyday melody he heard outside, came with such closeness it nearly smothered his own being. These souls...the Faithsong they cried, spoke of an unseen hope, that the One looked gently down upon them and guided them towards the path of Eternal Light.\n\nThey were Mendaihu, like him. They were awaiting the One.\n\nNehalé bent down, and began praying.\n\nAll is Light, Dearest One. We await your presence in this time of need.\n\nAwaken, dearest One of All Sacred. Come to us.\n\n\"Let us look back at the days before,\" Reverend Miriam said, his voice echoing throughout the cathedral. He had climbed to a raised pulpit to the left of the transept altar, leaning slightly forward, dwarfed by the architecture around him. His voice was surprisingly strong and deep for his age, and with the help of the natural acoustics in the church he was able to reach the farthest pews. He spoke simply and clearly, his words punctuated within by an unexpectedly powerful spiritual energy he utilized to gather in his parishioners. He had everyone's full attention from his first words.\n\n\"Not in the sense of wishing we were still technologically feeble and floating aimlessly, of course,\" he continued, waving and smiling. \"No, those days have long passed. Instead, let us remember our youth. Let us remember who we were, deeply, spiritually...plainly, before the strain of everyday stress and habit made us forget who we are.\n\n\"And who are we, you ask? I tell you, we are luminous, mystical beings, all of us. Every one of us here, in this city, on this planet, in this universe. Inside, we have the power to create; we have the power to utilize the Light and Love the One of All Sacred has given us. When we were young, we knew this, instinctively. It may have left our field of vision, or fallen into our subconscious mind, but it has never left us, only showing up at the most miraculous of times.\n\n\"Each of us has had a point in our lives, some of us many, where we created; shown love to others as well as ourselves, acted on kindness, instead of reacting to a hostile situation with equal hostility. These positive energies are what feed us; it nourishes our soul, makes it grow in Peace, Love, and Light. And in return, we give these precious gifts to others.\n\n\"This, my brothers and sisters, _eicho d'eichi_ , is the key.\n\n\"We are not here to simply live out our term in life. For what would be the point? As the One of All Sacred has said, 'as there is love in our song, there is a truth to our dance.' There is a reason for our souls to be here on this plane, on this planet.\n\n\"Our goal, first, is to create that Love, that Light that shines within us. It may take many forms; one of us could simply create wonderful art that brings joy to others, and some of us could become teachers of life, bringing knowledge and understanding to all around us. Or it could be the simple joy of creating a new life to bring into the world, one we could teach, love, and nurture.\n\n\"The second part of that goal, and the most important, is to keep our reason for being _alive._ It will not grow, nor will it live, if we just acknowledge its existence. We need to _feed_ our souls with our creations, lest they will elude us again, and we will spend our lifetime in circles, forever lost in our own pain and misery. This path is not an easy one; you will encounter many hardships. You will encounter those who wish you not to achieve your goal, through greed, jealousy, or ignorance.\n\n\"The negative aspects of life are harsh...and even more, they can be tempting. Who here has taken the easier, less problematic route, and in the end did not achieve their goal, for one reason or another? Because they were sick of fighting for a worthless cause? Or because no one believed in them? Or, at worst, because they themselves didn't care anymore?\n\n\"I admit, I too have been in that situation many times, and I too have given up on more than one occasion. But that _never_ means once the situation is over, _poof!_ It's gone, never to be attained again. Your goals never leave you. You only get blindsided.\n\n\"All I ask of you, dear parishioners, is that you open your eyes. Open your heart. Open your mind. Believe in your destination. Believe in your reason for living. And overall, believe in yourself.\n\n\"With belief, you can move mountains.\"\n\n_You_ _will_ _move mountains._\n\nReverend Miriam's final words, spoken within and directed at every person within this church, rippled through Nehalé's soul and sent shivers through his body. He'd given words to precisely the same thoughts and emotions he'd been having himself and questioning. This was the proof, the evidence he'd needed to confirm he'd done the right thing. _Yes_ , he thought, _this is the right thing to do!_ He closed his eyes, his head spinning with senses and images filtering in from the souls surrounding him. The pure _emotion_ behind the priest's sermon had taken him completely. He opened his eyes to the sound of the priest's voice again _within_ him —\n\nHowever.\n\n— and whirled around to see Reverend Miriam standing, eyes closed, swaying drunkenly in the center of the aisle, stepping towards one parishioner then to the next, wordlessly —\n\nWe are here, in this cathedral, waiting for fate. We are here to awaken others of our kind, dear ones. For outside, beyond these holy walls, lay the greatest enemy we have known.\n\n— and touching those nearest him with the slightest brush of the fingers, sending those he touched into their own deep state of bliss.\n\nThey are the Shenaihu.\n\nNehalé caught his breath, and reached out to the priest —\n\nThey are enemies because they are our brothers and sisters in spirit, but they wish to claim what they believe is theirs. I plead with you now: the will of the human soul was never theirs, and it never shall be. They believe humans to be of their own, which is not true. They are of the Gharné...the ancestors of the Meraladhza...of the Trisandi...\n\n...of both the Shenaihu and the Mendaihu.\n\nThey are our Light, our Love, and our Hope.\n\n— and finally connected with Miriam's shoulder as he passed by...Nehalé grabbed on and heard the doors behind him...\n\nThey have come, the Shenaihu. They are here.\n\nThe doors behind him...a thunderous vibration began, low and rumbling at first, then growing in force and speed until a constant wave of unbridled rage hammered at those locked doors, its only aim to destroy everyone and everything within. Nehalé stood half in and half out of the pew, terrified by this violent spiritual force. He felt it climbing the outside walls, surging and spiking upwards in destructive waves, dislodging loose stone and brick, until it reached the heavy stained glass windows high above. With one final push that hit him with a blow to his chest, it surged inwards, shattering the glass and raining it down on those below.\n\nWith one gentle movement of the arm and quiet _snap_ of the air, Reverend Miriam became a blur in front of Nehalé. The priest was now yards away, reaching out to the shards of glass as if trying to catch them. He lifted his hands and swept them through the air —\n\n_Peace, Love and Light be with you all, dear ones_ , he said calmly _._\n\nNehalé watched the shards glittering in the sunlight — no, the shards _were_ the sunlight, ground to harmless dust in the air...\n\n_Go now, Nehalé,_ the priest beckoned him _. Protect them! Protect the Gharné! Protect the One!_\n\n_I shall_ , he responded. Nehalé pushed himself out of the pew and ran for the entrance, pushing aside anyone in his way. These poor newcomers wouldn't stand a chance at the front lines...he had to be there himself, to fight off the bulk of the Shenaihu that would be breaking through those doors at any moment. He reached the shrine within seconds, where he was stopped short. He'd hit an unexpected protective barrier head-on and staggered sideways, nearly crashing to the floor. Father Miriam must have set the barrier when he brought Nehalé inside...which made him realize that the priest must have known this attack would unfold. Was he _kiralla_...a reality seer? The thought surprised him, having found it unexpected and elementary at the same time. Now wasn't the time to think about this any further, though...he had a flock to protect. He shook off the dizziness, shifting into a defensive position, ready to move or retreat. The spiritual energy up here was made of ice, pricking uncomfortably at his skin.\n\nThat was when he finally saw Janoss Miradesi. The man stood quietly and patiently at the cathedral doors, arms held behind his back, as if about to attend mass himself. He peered through the doors, never actually entering the church proper. He glanced around curiously, watching the outcome of his actions with a small, amused grin on his face. Parishioners were scrambling in all directions, running for any exit out of the cathedral, but avoiding the main doors. He caught sight of Nehalé and bowed slightly.\n\n_Somfei, edha Usarai,_ he said within.\n\nNehalé shifted his feet, waiting for the man to make a move.\n\nJanoss lifted a hand and waved two fingers in his direction, over Nehalé's right side. He felt a searing hot energy like a knife shooting past him, grazing his shoulder and twisting him backwards. Behind him, he heard another shattering of glass, this time high up in the clerestories, imploding inwards toward the central aisle from both sides. He smiled as he watched.\n\nWhat was he doing here? He was Shenaihu, an acolyte of the great Dahné Shenaihu leader, but it made no sense. For someone so high up to respond to his ritual, and with such violence...!\n\n_Janoss!_ Nehalé leered at him. _Leave them alone! It's me you want!_\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, and twitch a hand in his direction. Nehalé felt the air around him suddenly turn to ice, and instinctively whipped his arm up in front of his chest for protection. Janoss was cutting away his skin to reveal the bare spirit within, so much like a Watcher of souls...and stopped just shy of crushing him. Nehalé twitched and cried out, but stood his ground the best he could. Janoss held him there for a brief agonizing second, toying with him, and let go.\n\n_Not yet,_ he said. _We're not even yet._ Janoss smiled, bowed again, and started to leave.\n\n\"Janoss!\" Nehalé screamed, and moved forward despite the pain.\n\nInstantly a dozen Shenaihu, all pale and clad in black, tore through the doors and whipped them aside with such force they cracked nearly in half. A second later they were lost in the semidarkness of the cathedral before Nehalé could resume his defensive stance.\n\nThen he heard the screams.\n\nFelt the knife-twist of pain and the loss of Spirit being torn from Body.\n\nThey were killing parishioners.\n\nCHAPTER EIGHT\n\n_Caren_\n\nAnando, who are you?\n\nCaren frowned as she stared at the monitor on her desk, arms crossed tightly across her chest. She really should have been looking for that rogue Mendaihu, but with Poe up at the Crest and Sheila out doing the rounds with Nick, she was flying solo in the office again. She should have joined Poe, thinking back on it. Last night's dream had bothered the hell out of her, though...she had to know who this Anando Shalei was. Obviously a Mendaihu from the same clan as the investigative siblings, but she highly doubted they were close relations. It just felt _wrong_ somehow...not in a bad way, but logically. He was cut from a completely different cloth.\n\nShe might not be a fully trained Mendaihu, but she could certainly spiritsense well enough to know that this was a real thing. He had definitely contacted her — in her lumisha dea, no less — and had told her they would meet each other again. Briefly she entertained the thought...had they met during their college years, on campus somewhere or at a party? But she would have remembered someone like Anando. He definitely would have left an impression, given the one he left last night.\n\nIt should have been easy enough to find him in the general census database. Even though Shalei was an extremely common clan name, 'Anando' was a rarity. There were about a thousand or so 'A. Shalei' entries in Central Bridgetown alone, and possibly more in the outpost villages nearby. She had no time or inclination to dig through each and every one of them, and it wasn't that important to find Anando right this second, but her curiosity was just enough to continue just for a bit longer. He was in the city, that much she knew from her sensing, so she narrowed the search parameters and tried again. A second search by race — looking up Meraladian only this time — cut the number of hits in half, but it was still too much to search through. Maybe by district? It was worth a shot. The highest concentration of Mendaihu in the city was in and around the McCleever District. As an afterthought she added her own neighborhood of Berndette Sector, just in case he really was as close by as he'd said.\n\nShe watched the search run its course, laughing to herself. Why was she doing this? Anando had no part in the awakening ritual at all as far as she knew. But he'd shown up in her most private and personal of places, and he had done so for a reason. And she had recognized his spirit's signature, connected at a spiritual level with him. She'd never questioned or even entertained the thought of her soul's previous lifetime...she understood and respected the Meraladian belief of spiritual incarnation, maybe even wished she could believe it herself, but had never seriously contemplated it for any length of time. But now...\n\nWho was this Anando, who had shaken her spiritual foundation?\n\nThe answer to that question came a few minutes later. After a few more parameter tweaks, she narrowed the list down to three Anandos in the city: an extremely old man living in a nursing home in westside McCleever, a middle-aged businessman in Berndette with two children and a wife...and a graduate student almost exactly seven years her junior, living on his own in eastside McCleever, near the warehouses.\n\nShe shivered and giggled, feeling stupid and giddy at the same time. That last one _had_ to be him!\n\n\"Hey, _there_ you are!\"\n\nCaren nearly jumped out of her seat at the loud voice. Sheila stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed. She had a wide grin on her face and a rolled-up vidmat in her hand. Without preamble she entered the office and took a seat behind Poe's desk. \"I can see I might have interrupted a few things,\" she said flatly.\n\nCaren laughed despite her face turning red. \"Impeccable timing as always, dear,\" she said, saving her final search and closing down the database. She'd look further into the mystery of Anando at a later time, when everything calmed down. Finally giving her full attention, she gestured at the vidmat. \"I see you've been busy. Got something for us?\"\n\n\"That I do,\" Sheila smiled. \"A few things, actually. I assume Poe is up at the Crest at the moment, yes? Pity...he'd want to know about this as well.\" She unfurled the vidmat on the desk in front of her, tapped her security code in, and started opening up a few files. She was acting like a kid itching to spill a juicy secret, just like Matthew had, and she had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing.\n\n\"First things first,\" she said. \"Remember that bit Rieflin talked about the other day? About people gathering somewhere in the Waterfront?\" Caren nodded. She'd been surprised and blindsided by that moment, just like everyone else had at the ARU, but she hadn't had time to follow up on it. \"Yeah, I thought that was kind of odd too. Pretty damn sure they mean one of the empty warehouses down there, that's the only place that'll fit that many people comfortably. That's also something our department would've had knowledge on right away. You don't have a spiritual gathering of any kind without someone here knowing about it. That made me think: either he knows where the warehouse is and won't tell us, or he doesn't know, and it's possible it's a rumor.\"\n\n\"You requested more information, I take it?\" Caren asked.\n\n\"Yes, and of course they weren't going to give it. At least not right away. I'm figuring it'll be leaked within a few days, though. So...\" She tapped on a file and opened it up, and turned the vidmat in her direction. It was an impressively long list of warehouse names in that district, color-coded and subdivided into different columns. Many of the names had been stricken. \"I eliminated all the warehouses owned by the government, businesses we've confirmed have no spiritual or religious ties, and others that we know are condemned. That left only about a dozen or so possible places. So I had Nick call in a favor from one of his coworkers in PD. They didn't give a name, of course, but they gave us an idea where to look.\"\n\nCaren glanced down again, and frowned. One name was circled: Moulding. It was an old building that hadn't been used for storage or shipping in quite some time, but given that it was still in great structural shape, it was often rented out short-term to various parties.\n\n\"You think they're establishing camp here?\" she asked.\n\n\"Quite sure about that,\" she said. \"Nick took a drive past there a few hours ago, and noticed a higher than normal amount of foot traffic and plainclothes officers floating around.\"\n\nCaren thought about this for a few moments. Did they really need to know about followers of the One of All Sacred gathering together to pray? If the BMPD were keeping the peace, there was little the ARU could do other than back them up if they needed help. And it sounded like it was a peaceful gathering. On the other hand, there was the possibility this could be a gathering of resources. She hated to entertain the thought...but this could be a Mendaihu congregation, freshly awakened and awaiting further instruction.\n\n\"We need someone down there,\" Caren said. \"I need you and Nick —\"\n\nSheila cut her off with a wide grin. \"Already on it. Right now we're plugged into the traffic feed down there. The warehouse takes up nearly the whole block, so we have all four intersections available, and that should cover outside. But we'll make our way down there soon enough.\"\n\nCaren nodded. She'd have liked to have someone there _now_ , but she trusted Sheila enough to make up for it in other ways. \"And the second thing?\"\n\n\"The second thing...\" she said, twisted the vidmat back in her direction, and tapped open a few more files. She hummed quietly to herself, a kid with a secret she couldn't contain any longer. \"It's really a pity that Alec isn't here, he'd want to know as well. Guess who owns it.\" She turned the vidmat back to Caren and pushed it her way. On the screen was the picture and statistics of a man in his late thirties. He looked fit and strong for his age, not exactly handsome but definitely someone charismatic. In this picture he held himself with conviction, sure of whatever he aimed for. He wore a black trench coat over a black bodysuit. On his shoulder was a patch of two intersecting circles.\n\nHe was wearing the official gear of a Mendaihu Elder.\n\n\"That's our guy,\" Sheila said, a proud smile on her face. \"Just confirmed it. Matches our witnesses' descriptions, right down to the spirit signature.\"\n\n*\n\nPoe returned from the Crest a little over an hour later, and she filled him in with the details. \"Nehalé Usarai,\" she said, reading off the man's CV again. \"He's a Meraladian Mendaihu, a high-level soulhealer, registered _sehndayen-ne_ and has taught in nearly all the Sectors at one point or another, you name it. He's also a registered Elder, which could make things slippery. Apparently he's known around McCleever and Waterfront as...well, as a savior. Goes out of his way to treat the downtrodden. Healings, general assistance, the whole lot. Very big on the community service. He owns a few of the old warehouses down there, rents them out seasonally. Reports say he's been there within the past week as well.\"\n\nPoe frowned, leaning back in his chair and taking it all in. \"This is too easy,\" he huffed. \"He's done everything short of turning himself in.\"\n\nCaren shared in his skepticism. \"That's what I thought as well...that's why it's imperative that we actually follow procedure, make sure we know it's him. He has an apartment on Jamison Avenue, overlooking Branden Hill Park. I'm expecting he's already off the grid, but Nick and Sheila are looking into it right now. They also put a highlight on his direct employer, Kindeiya Shalei at DuaLife. Nehalé works in the Re-Gen Therapy department there. Guess he really is a genius at soulhealing, from what info Sheila got out of Kindeiya. He's supposed to be calling us back.\"\n\nHe nodded, pleased that the case was moving again. \"The meeting up at the Crest went well,\" he said as a change of conversation. \"Kai and Ashan. Interesting team, those two. Nice people. Take their job _very_ seriously.\" He let out a nervous breath. \"Let's just say they gave me an interesting view of the city,\" he added quietly, and described to her what he'd gone through and what he'd seen. \"Suffice it to say I'm still a bit unsettled by it.\"\n\nShe stared at him, grinning. \"Damn, Poe. You get all the good jobs. I've never experienced that before. What did they have to say?\"\n\n\"They want a closer view,\" he said. \"They agree, it's hinting at another uprising, but they won't commit to it just yet.\"\n\n\"It's frustrating,\" she said. \"We have a crime, a perpetrator, and the crime scene — but no solid motive. Maybe we'll get lucky and Kindeiya will spill everything.\"\n\n\"Wishful thinking,\" he laughed, but it was hollow. He was still on edge from his abbreviated journey into that spiritual otherworld, and it showed. He looked around, glancing at the wall vidmat and at the other media screens in the room. \"It bothers me as well,\" he said in a low tone. \"The motive for the awakening ritual. If the One of All Sacred is going to return, now would be a good time to start praying.\"\n\n\"Goddess, Poe.\" Caren stared at him hard. \"Don't even joke about that.\"\n\n\"I'm not.\"\n\nAfter a pause, she looked away, frustrated. \"I don't like this.\"\n\n\"Neither do I.\" They both said nothing for a long while. Poe glanced at their open office door, noticing that the hallway chatter had died out, meaning the governor's State of the Province speech would start soon. Finally, he stood up, stretched, and leaned over his chair. \"What do we have on edha Usarai?\" he asked. \"I mean, aside from what Nick and Sheila uncovered?\"\n\nCaren looked down distractedly at the vidmat in front of her. \"I called Peter in Records, he's looking deeper into Usarai's history.\" She paused, thinking. \"Usarai, Poe...the 'knowledge clan,' right?\"\n\n\"Well, Usara is,\" he nodded. \"But Usarai is a sub-clan. I'd assume they're the same, by virtue of heredity. He's definitely intelligent, and he's definitely a community leader.\"\n\nCaren pondered about that for a moment. \"That's what I thought,\" she said. \"I thought of calling Matt about that, see if there's a link between this guy and the Shenaihu. First, though, I need to call DuaLife, see what edha Kindeiya wants to tell me. You want to visit Peter for me? He should have what we want by now.\"\n\nPoe reached for his commlink. \"I'll page him.\"\n\nPeter Fancher ran the Records Department like a library of sacred texts and was not much of a social person at all. Records was housed in a cold, dimly lit seventh floor room, dark except for the soft glow of vidscreens and study lights, and he watched over the library like a hawk. He ran one of the most complete, up to date census and data collections in the Sprawl, barring the Data Research Library. He could get anything within a half hour, and he was thorough. And time was something they did not have. Poe confirmed the data was ready and pocketed his cell phone. \"We're good to go,\" he said, already halfway out the office door.\n\n*\n\n\"Johnson?\"\n\nCaren looked up from reading the Nehalé Usarai report, the voice unexpected. Chief Inspector Farraway stood in the doorway, arms crossed and his right shoulder leaning against the frame. He looked alive and rested, far from the overly stressed version of the man she'd seen just days ago. He was smiling, a tender, fatherly smile he'd shared with her since she was a young cadet, introduced by her parents. She frowned...something was up.\n\n\"Hey, chief,\" she waved. \"Come on in. What brings you out of your cage?\"\n\n\"The first hour of peace I've had in the last two days,\" he said, shaking his head. \"How are things?\"\n\n\"Things are good, sir,\" she nodded, gesturing with her vidmat tablet. \"Reading up on Nick and Sheila's report. Just want to familiarize myself with it.\"\n\nHe hummed in response, and looked away. \"Listen...\" he started. \"I...uh...\" He stopped, his smile fading. He pushed heavily off the door frame and crossed the room, dropping into Poe's chair. \"Listen,\" he said again, his voice much quieter. \"Is everything all right with you?\"\n\nCaren frowned. _Odd question..._ \"As well as can be, sir. Stressed out, but nothing out of the normal. Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"I...\" he sighed, and let out a pathetic laugh. \"I apologize...I'll be straight with you, I'm concerned about you and your team. When someone spiritually awakens half the Sprawl, you start thinking less about the numbers, and more about the fallout. No problems with Denni?\"\n\nShe sat up and placed both hands flat on the desk, facing him directly. \"What is this really about, sir?\" she asked slowly.\n\nFarraway knew he couldn't avoid the subject any further, and looked her straight in the eyes. \"I'm worried about you,\" he said. \"And that the ritual may have triggered some not-so-pleasant memories.\"\n\nShe pursed her lips and hid her anger. \"None that I know of,\" she said warily. \"Denni's okay...everything's fine.\"\n\nThat answer appeased him. A smile took its time crossing his face, his head still hung low. He was gripping his hands tightly. \"That's good to hear,\" he said. Finally, he pushed himself up and headed back to the door, only to stop a second later. The joviality had completely left his face. \"That shockwave hit a hell of a lot of people in our city, Caren. I know it reached all the way up your end of town. I'm concerned about the two of you.\"\n\nCaren remained aloof. \"Really, sir. All is fine. Poe's grumpy as hell and I've been biting people's heads off, but you know how we get when we're overtired. All's well, sir.\"\n\nFarraway nodded. \"That's good to hear,\" he said. \"You guys have kicked ass the last few days, don't think I haven't noticed. Thanks, I definitely appreciate it.\"\n\nThe compliment took her off guard. \"You're welcome, sir,\" she said with a blush.\n\nHe shook his head at her. \"Come on, Caren, stop with the 'sir' already. I've known you since you were a kid. 'Dylan' is good enough.\"\n\nLike that would ever happen! \"Sure thing, sir,\" she winked at him.\n\nHe laughed, waving as he left.\n\n*\n\nThe audiophone on the desk rang, something that had not happened for at least two years. Caren stared at it, letting it ring a few more times, wondering who had gotten a hold of this private and secure interoffice number. Matthew? No...he never used these things anymore, he would have hacked the vidmat instead. I didn't even know this thing still worked, she mused, punching the speakerphone function on. \"Alien Relations Unit, Special Agent Caren Johnson,\" she answered.\n\n\"Eh...\" The caller stumbled, as if not expecting her to answer. \"This is emha Caren Johnson?\" Caren frowned. The voice sounded familiar, even calm and soothing, much like a soulhealer's. She caught the well-mannered tone of the voice and huffed quietly at the title he'd given her. Humans rarely took a Meraladian title unless it had been earned and especially rare if given by a Mendaihu. She hadn't come even close to earning it at all.\n\n\"Agent Johnson will do,\" she said as nicely as she could. \"May I ask who's calling?\"\n\n\"This is Kindeiya Shalei, from DuaLife,\" the man said pleasantly.\n\nIt's about time he called, she thought. She tapped the pen in her hand softly on the desk. \"I appreciate your call, sir,\" she said as confidently and amicably as she could. \"I understand you may have a busy schedule, but I have a few —\"\n\n\"Agent Johnson,\" he interrupted. \"By any chance, were you related to Agents Aram and Celine Johnson? Didn't they also have a second daughter...Dennise, I believe?\"\n\nThe unexpected question hit her squarely in the gut. Goddess, that was blunt! What the hell did that have to do with anything? She very nearly slammed the phone down on him, but instead, as she was trained to do, she let it go. She took a long breath, two of them, and answered in a very quiet, forced tone as a hint to never bring that up again. \"They were my parents. Sir.\"\n\n\"Oh...!\" he gasped, suddenly aware of the faux pas. \"I do apologize.\"\n\n\"Accepted, edha Shalei,\" she said.\n\nShe swore he could hear his courteous smile. \"Please, emha, call me Kindeiya. So — down to business, then. I was contacted by Agent Kennedy in the past half hour, asking for information on one of our employees, and said I could pass it along to you.\"\n\n\"Wonderful. Please, call me Caren.\" She weighed how much information to give him, and decided not to put everything on the table just yet. \"We're looking into one of your associates, Nehalé Usarai, part of the Re-Gen Therapy department. We have reason to believe he might have information regarding the unsanctioned ritual.\"\n\n\"It was an Awakening ritual,\" he said without preamble. \"And an enormous and powerful ritual at that. Something of that intensity is mostly used offworld, on some CNF-sponsored minor planet perhaps. Despite its connotations, however, it's not a religious ritual — spiritual, yes, but not religious.\" He stopped. His pause was almost leisurely. \"To answer your question, my dear: I know for a fact that Nehalé Usarai was directly involved.\"\n\nCaren opened her mouth, then shut it again. How the hell could she respond to that? She was torn between surprise and distrust. Why would he reveal the truth so openly like that? If he knew Nehalé was involved, he should have reported it to the ARU already — hell, he should have reported it before it ever happened! What was Kindeiya hiding?\n\nShe chose to err on the side of caution with this man. \"Nehalé is involved, you said?\"\n\n\"Yes, emha. Still is, to some extent.\"\n\nShe started reaching for her pager to contact Poe. \"How so?\"\n\nShe could hear the smile on his face. \"He was the one who performed the ritual. I must say this, though: Governor Rieflin has it all wrong, it's not a terrorist act at all. It's the start of a new consciousness.\"\n\n\"A new...wait. What?\" She covered herself by backtracking to the previous comment. She had to regain control of the conversation, and quickly. \"How do you know he performed it?\"\n\n\"My friend edha Usarai is a very integral part of the Regenerative Genetics Department here at DuaLife,\" he said. \"He is our Supervising Soulhealer for recuperating patients going through Re-Gen. Fascinating work. He uses his Mendaihu abilities to teach Re-Gen patients how to get in tune with their bodies as well as their spirits...he teaches them how to heal physically as well as spiritually when they have Re-Gen surgery done. He's got a ninety-nine percent success rate.\"\n\nCaren hid a grunt of annoyance. \"That's impressive, but it doesn't tell me anything I need to know, edha. Please answer the question.\"\n\nKindeiya's voice suddenly turned apologetic. \"I am truly sorry, emha Caren, but it is actually a very integral part of the explanation behind Nehalé's actions. I have known him both as Meraladian and Mendaihu for many years. And he has always been destined to begin the Great Cleansing.\"\n\nOh, shit. Caren let out a long breath of frustration as a chill ran down her back. We're going there, aren't we? Nehalé had considered himself the next prophet with a mission to awaken the One, just like Poe had suggested. She sighed quietly and continued. \"Are you sure this is a spiritual cleansing? For all we know, he may just be a renegade Mendaihu willing to cause a bit of expensive anarchy.\"\n\n\"No, not Nehalé,\" he said. \"He does nothing without reason. He has only begun the process of Awakening.\"\n\nCaren shook her head, annoyed at this constant glorifying. \"Okay, okay. Let's say for the moment we've already established that. Now we need the why.\"\n\n\"The shimshiya, emha Caren, as they called it so long ago. An endgame. The time when the Shenaihu and the Mendaihu band together for peace.\"\n\nPeace...? She really wanted to scream now. \"We haven't had an insurgence since the last Embodiment of the One, Kindeiya. I believe we still have that peace.\"\n\n\"You truly believe that?\" he asked.\n\nCaren faltered, despite her convictions. She may have Mendaihu blood within her, but she couldn't bring herself to follow its spiritual flow. There were just too many unanswered questions, too many indefinites. To be brutally honest with herself, she really didn't know what to believe at this point. She was too afraid.\n\n\"Ah...dear me,\" he exhaled. \"I believe your silence would answer the question, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, edha Johnson, but I can't accept that the ARU believes that.\"\n\nDon't say it... she reminded herself. Don't tell this guy off. Don't let him get to you... _hra khera, hra mehra..._ \"Kindeiya...let me speak truthfully. If, in fact, you believe edha Usarai is some harbinger of doom or the messiah of enlightenment, it's hardly anything the Alien Relations Unit can go on. I hope you can understand, edha...as much as we understand and appreciate the spiritual undercurrent of this event, edha Usarai has broken the law. He may have performed a miracle with the Awakening ritual, and the Ninth Embodiment may already be here...but it was not sanctioned, and in the process he may have endangered the citizens of Bridgetown. That's not just a handful of people, edha...that's millions of people. The ARU's primary objective is to serve and protect those people — Earthers, Gharné, Meraladhza, Shenaihu or Mendaihu, all of them. We cannot get personally involved in spiritual politics. If you can come down to our Branden Hill headquarters and give me a written statement on your knowledge of Nehalé's involvement, then I have no problem. You do know that if he readily admits guilt, we're talking, easily, life imprisonment on Runeia. He's just lucky he has the Mendaihu to back him up, or it could be worse.\"\n\nHe hummed introspectively. \"Well, emha — \"\n\nDamn it all! \"And another thing, Kindeiya. Please know that I'm not Mendaihu. Miss Johnson or just plain Caren, okay?\"\n\nHe seemed shocked at that admission, and waited a beat before he responded. \"My apologies, Caren. When another Mendaihu assumes...\"\n\n\"Right,\" she grumbled. What a prick. \"Carrying on...\"\n\nKindeiya let out a very long sigh that Caren took immediately as snobbish disdain. \"Caren, as much as I would like to give you the pertinent information regarding Nehalé and the Awakening Ritual, I am afraid there is little you can do with it at this time. For you see, it is information only a Mendaihu would be able to understand, for there are many levels and nuances. An untrained Mendaihu would not be able to grasp it, let alone retain it.\"\n\nOh, for the love of... Caren huffed. Poe was right, he was one of those Meraladians... Well, if he wants to pull spiritual politics into it...\n\n\"Fine,\" she said, adding a nice frost to her words. \"You need a Mendaihu? You got one. Two, to be exact. I'll have Agents Akaina and Ashyntoya Shalei from NewCanta Province contact you. They're on board with us in this investigation. I'm sure they'll be more than willing to explain it to us.\"\n\nThe names took him by surprise, causing yet another change in his tone of voice. She wasn't sure how, though...lighter? Calmer? \"I see,\" he said eventually. \"That does make things easier, emha — I'm sorry, Miss Johnson.\" She couldn't be sure, but that perfect voice seemed to waver. \"Have them call me at their leisure. Again, I apologize. My intents are only to assist the ARU and ensure the safety of the citizens of Bridgetown.\"\n\nGoddess. She slammed the pen flat on the desk blotter. She was glad he couldn't see her on vidphone, as she had a strong temptation to gesture obscenely at him. \"Apology accepted, Kindeiya,\" she said as evenly as she could. \"I shall have the Mendaihu agents contact you as soon as they possibly can.\"\n\nHe gave her his courtesies for a few more moments before hanging up. She cursed and exhaled, frustrated with herself. It should not have been that easy to get her that riled up, but he'd pushed all the right buttons in quick succession right from the start by mentioning her parents. Kindeiya Shalei had to have been an expert-level soulhealer...he'd used his own voice as a calming device, and used it so deftly that she hadn't noticed she'd been diverted until much too late. She was mad at herself now; she'd been trained to deflect aural influence like this by her own parents over a decade ago, so why had he done it so easily? What kind of Mendaihu was he? Unable to sit quietly now, or even concentrate on paperwork, she buzzed Poe. He picked up after three rings, much longer than his usual wait. \"Hey,\" she said. \"What took you so long?\"\n\nPoe chuckled. \"Fancher is just giving me the usual problems up here. I swear he treats Records like the Schœnsfeld Museum. He just shooed me out into the hallway because my comm went off.\"\n\n\"Any luck?\" she asked.\n\n\"I just got here a few minutes ago. I got a weird call from Sheila...she didn't give too many details, but said Dispatch sent them over to Saint Patrick's to investigate a possible B and E. That, and Farraway stopped me in the hallway on the way up, asked me if everything was going okay.\"\n\nCaren frowned. \"He did the same to me.\"\n\n\"Huh — well, I'm just about to pick the info up now, I'll be down in a few minutes or so.\"\n\n\"Well, make it quick. I've got one hell of a story to tell you. I've just had the most blessedly frustrating conversation I've ever had since I teamed up with you.\"\n\nPoe paused, letting that good-natured jibe sink in. \"Worse than me? That's new.\"\n\n\"Yeah, believe it. It was Kindeiya Shalei, Alec. Nehalé's boss. The man is insane, I tell you. Either that, or a Prophet of the One.\" With a chuckle, she added, \"Probably both. Beautiful voice, though.\"\n\n\"It's been altered,\" he said. \"Synthetic vocal cords, when the real ones gave out to cancer. Read about it a few years ago...one of DuaLife's biggest Re-Gen achievements.\"\n\nSomehow that didn't surprise her. \"Listen...try to get here as soon as possible. He's quite certain that Nehalé Usarai not only performed an Awakening Ritual, but he may be a Warrior of the One of All Sacred.\"\n\nPoe paused. \"A Warrior? How did you get that?\"\n\n\"Well...he didn't say in so many words. But the nuance was definitely there. Couldn't stop gushing about how wonderful the guy is. Thinks he's about to save the world by spiritual unity.\"\n\n\"We're talking nuances now? Maybe you are a Mendaihu,\" he said. Quickly, sheepishly, he added: \"Sorry.\"\n\nShit. Not him too.\n\nCaren tensed, and then let her breath out slowly. \"Just get down here when you can, Alec.\" She slammed down the phone before he could answer.\n\n*\n\nPoe strolled into the office minutes later, a data crystal twirling between fingers and an apology written on his face. \"I'm sorry, Caren,\" he said quietly. \"I shouldn't have said that.\"\n\nCaren waved the apology off. \"Don't worry about it. I should be used to it by now. Besides, Kindeiya started it, not you.\" She nodded at the crystal. \"What did you get from Peter?\"\n\nA relieved smile crossed his face. \"Nehalé is DuaLife's top Re-Gen therapist...\"\n\n\"So says Kindeiya,\" she said. \"He couldn't say enough good words about him.\"\n\nHe held up the crystal between them. \"I've got all his vitals on here, stuff we already have. An up-to-date holo, his address, tax forms, finances, likes and dislikes, favorite food...\"\n\n\"Wonderful. Give me his blood type and we'll have ourselves a damned fan club.\"\n\nPoe smirked at her. \"That's not far from the truth. Peter gave us a listing of associates he has, Mendaihu and otherwise. I put hyperlinks on those names to the database upstairs, just in case.\" Caren watched him grin madly as he crossed the room to the terminal flanking the far wall.\n\nCaren crossed her arms. \"So? What does that tell us?\"\n\n\"Patience, my friend,\" he said with a wave of a hand. His fingers worked deftly at the keypad, calling up the data from the crystal. An absurdly long list of document files began scrolling down the screen, which he began sifting through, opening up the ones he'd flagged earlier. It took more than a few minutes to bring up everything. Could all this information be connected to Nehalé? Caren doubted it...a lot of it had to be tangential. No one had files on them this big that weren't locked up at the Intelligence Bureau.\n\nCaren cleared her throat. \"Patience is the one thing I don't have today, Poe. Is there a point in the near future?\"\n\n\"Er...yeah. Hang on.\" A few more keystrokes opened up a file marked 'Mendaihu' and he was done. \"Check out this list,\" he said, tapping the screen. \"It might interest you. You'll never guess who's on here.\"\n\nShe walked up behind him, and leaned over to take a look. Hendiri, Usara, Shalei, Akandarra...Mirades, Kaalen, Dhumélis, Nisiriandis...the surnames were all common clan names, nothing surprising. The given names that matched them were not familiar in the least...until she came near to the end of that first page.\n\nAnando Shalei.\n\nCaren felt a shiver of unexpected giddiness. Anando...! \"Hold on a second,\" she said, sounding a little more excited than she'd wanted, but curiosity had gotten the best of her. \"Who's that? Back up a page. Last column, third from last.\"\n\nPoe scrolled back and followed her finger. \"Who...this guy?\" He highlighted the name, a quarter-screen size image popping up on the right side of the screen. It dawned on her just then that she had no visual image of Anando, only his voice. She had no idea what he looked like. But that voice...professional as she was, something about that voice had stirred something within her.\n\nShe stared at the screen. Anando was handsome but not striking, a Meraladian of average build. He wore closely cropped blonde-brown hair in the spiky nonconformist style of the McCleever gangs, though he wore no piercings, tattoos or enhancements. He lived in Poe's corner of the McCleever District, on the main strip of McCleever Street itself, near the DuaLife main facility where he interned. Deep in the heart of the worst part of Bridgetown.\n\nCaren shivered. This could be the Anando she'd dreamed of.\n\nAnando. I've found you. And then, belatedly: Why are you on this list? Who are you to Nehalé Usarai?\n\n\"Uh...yeah. That guy,\" she said, not without embarrassment. \"Sorry. Just a Mendaihu hunch, I suppose. I'll get back to you on that.\"\n\nPoe shot her a sideways glance. \"Don't tell me I've got more people to look up,\" he said. \"Besides, he's not the one I'm looking for. The one you have to see is...well, it's around here somewhere.\" He continued scrolling down the list. He began to say something, stopped, and pointed to a name. \"There. Kindeiya Shalei.\"\n\n\"So? He's Nehalé's boss, of course he'd be there.\"\n\n\"Yes...but this list? I purposely avoided grabbing work associates or patients unless there was a viable reason. More to the point, I specifically narrowed the search to only include connections to the Mendaihu — any events, actions, rituals, meetings. Something where he'd go out of his way to meet with one of them, or perform something for them. Suffice it to say, he's been quite the busybody over the last year or so, and Kindeiya Shalei has been there by his side through a good portion of it.\"\n\nCaren frowned deeply. \"We're being left in the dark, Poe. Any other coincidences happen today that I should know about?\"\n\n\"Not that I know of,\" he muttered, looking at her with concern.\n\nFinding Kindeiya on the list had actually been less than surprising, being Nehalé's boss. His inclusion only made matters more complicated, however, now that she knew both men to be Mendaihu. There had to be a specific reason for him to be on it. Most associate lists on files usually stretched to about two dozen at most. Nehalé's list was nearing a few hundred.\n\n\"How does he know all these Mendaihu, Poe? I know they have empathic memory of everyone they meet, but this is a bit much. Peter's not that meticulous in his data retrieval. You sure these aren't complete strangers that once gave him directions eight years ago?\"\n\n\"No...these are all current,\" he said, studying the screen. \"The guy gets around, apparently. It's like you said, it's as if he's like a local god in the Waterfront Sector. Most of the Mendaihu on this list are from that district. He helps them back on their feet again. Trains them to become honest citizens. He's the ultimate Samaritan down there.\"\n\nCaren frowned. \"Samaritan?\" she said. \"The ARU...hell, the BMPD would have noticed him down there right away. He sounds more like a shepherd —\"\n\nA shepherd. Her hands clenched at her side and she winced. \"No,\" she said.\n\nPoe turned to her. \"No? No what?\"\n\nPashyo! She pushed herself away from his chair and began to pace the room. She furrowed her brows; nervous hands moved in separate directions, as if alternately looking for something to hold and expressing something she couldn't find the words for. The chill returned again, stopping her in the middle of the room with a shiver. Somehow everything about this case began to fall into place with disturbing clarity...the Awakening Ritual, Nehalé Usarai, the shockwave...even her own odd behavior at that moment.\n\nHave I? She called out to her parents, though dreading an answer. That night. Have I awakened? Am I Mendaihu after all?\n\n\"No what, Caren?\" Poe demanded. \"What —\"\n\n\"That's not the motive, Poe,\" she cut in. \"He's not trying to become a Samaritan in any way down there, especially for numbers that large. That's not the Mendaihu way. They don't go looking for a savior when they've got The One of All Sacred. No, he's...he's...\" Just as quickly, she stuttered to a halt as words eluded her. He's leading them...? No, not leading...\n\nAwakening. And I got caught up in it.\n\nHe swiveled around in the chair. \"What the hell are you talking about?\"\n\n\"He's gathering them, Poe. Don't you see that?\" She whirled at him, waving hands at him. He flinched and pushed back in his chair. Suddenly self-conscious of her movements, she backed up to the opposite wall and shoved her hands into pockets. Her mouth was dry and she couldn't stop the nervous shaking. \"He's gathering the flock. Think about it, Poe. He's got all these Mendaihu listed, mostly from the Waterfront. One of the poorest neighborhoods in the Sprawl. Don't tell me you're not seeing the religious imagery here.\"\n\nPoe arched an eyebrow at her. \"Well, from you I am.\"\n\n\"Fair enough. But that's what's going on, I'm sure of it. He's raising a Mendaihu army of some kind. He knows the Shenaihu are going to respond to his ritual, and it's just a matter of when. The answer's been staring us in the face, Poe...and we've been too damned afraid to face it.\"\n\nPoe let that sink in for a few seconds. He stood up and began pacing himself, but stopped after five steps, standing in front of her. Goddess knew what he was thinking of her right now. Time for a vacation, she mused. Caren, you've been poisoned by the job. Get out while you can.\n\n\"Why haven't you been affected?\" he asked, his voice quiet.\n\nCaren looked him in the eyes. \"I'm sure I already have.\"\n\n\"And Denni...?\"\n\nShe couldn't respond, but she didn't have to. Poe already knew.\n\nThe piercing buzz of the hailing interoffice vidmat interrupted the uncomfortable silence and closeness between them. The screen behind Poe blinked to life, the image of Cilla from Dispatch partially blocked by Poe's body. He didn't move or turn around.\n\n\"Uh...hey,\" Cilla said, realizing she'd interrupted something. \"Just called to tell you that Nick and Sheila took a call for a disturbance at St. Patrick's on Ormand, but they said they'd be back as soon as it was taken care of.\"\n\nCaren felt the chill race up the back of her neck. She poked her head around Poe's shoulder and managed a weak smile. \"Thanks, Cilla. Let me know when they come in.\"\n\nYes, she thought. Falling together way too easily.\n\nThe dispatch officer took that as a sign to leave them alone, nodded an apology and disconnected.\n\nPoe smiled wanly. \"Huh. St. Patrick's. Let's hope that Father Miriam's okay.\"\n\nFather Miriam — another flash of memory. The hazy memory of Matthew Davison's voice the morning after the Awakening Ritual: Go talk to Reverend Miriam if you need a spiritual explanation. Caren closed her eyes and leaned her head up against the wall. \"Poe, I...\" She trailed off. She felt a shift in her equilibrium, a slight dizziness. Not enough to faint, but just enough to catch her off balance. She'd felt this before, years ago...back when her latent Mendaihu blood had begun to flow within her body. She knew this feeling intimately, and it scared the hell out of her. This was reality seeing, a rare Mendaihu trait where her brain went into overdrive, processing every speck of information given to her and coming up with all possible outcomes at once. She'd only felt this once, years ago when it had manifested itself in her teens. Her parents had taught her how to keep it under control, but now it was too late. She couldn't hold this back any more. The slow whirling in her head suddenly took on momentum, and then it was too late to try to calm it.\n\nThere was no question now. She herself had been awakened.\n\nFather Miriam...Damn it! No! She squeezed her eyes shut. Stop thinking so damn much! But again, she could not stop once she had started--\n\nFather Miriam...Elder Myras Usara. A Terran English alias.\n\nA locked-away childhood memory blasted itself painfully into the forefront.\n\nTwenty-five years ago. An image of a Priest of the One of All Sacred blessing the Mendaihu at St. Patrick's Cathedral before a battle. Men and women, Meraladian and Gharné alike, filling the church. She remembered being there, a young kid just turning ten, but she remembered clearly. We're so proud of you, Karinna... Her parents, flanking her, both looking down over their shoulders, warm smiles on their faces. Her mother's arm draped over her shoulder, hand resting slightly against her neck. Father's hand touching the middle of her back. The priest's voice reverberating throughout the hall, yet muted enough to soothe the fear. The unsettled shuffles and coughs of agitated parishioners seeking, hoping for answers.\n\nI remember...!\n\nMendaihu Gharra. Protector of Earth.\n\nPeace, Love and Light to you all.\n\nThe feel of fear, the dread, the hopelessness...and somewhere, underneath it all, barely alive and screaming to break free...\n\nFaith.\n\nCaren gasped, eyes wide. \"Shit!\" she blurted a little too loudly, sending Poe back a few steps. Her legs felt weak, threatening to fall out from under her. Things were flooding back to her...too many memories, too much information she didn't want. Too many things she'd tried hard to forget over the years. It all came back... She made it to her desk, dropping hard into the chair. The spinning in her head was unceasing. She felt drunk; she felt weak and sick. Yet despite the numbing of her senses, she knew she was wide awake, and completely aware of everything.\n\nAll is Light.\n\n\"One of All Sacred help them,\" she whispered.\n\nPoe knelt down before her, grasping her shaking hands. \"Caren?\"\n\nShe managed to look him in the eyes again. \"Poe...\" Closed her eyes, cursed herself. One of All Sacred help us... \"I think your theory might be right.\"\n\nCHAPTER NINE\n\n_Nehalé – Janoss_\n\n...One of All Sacred...\n\nNehalé crouched as low as he could between the benches in the southern choir loft, attempting to catch his breath. He had a bleeding cut over his left eye and several bruises all over his body, but they were the least of his worries. His Mendaihu senses were buzzing madly from the adrenalin rush of the battle, but mostly from the pain he felt from all those deaths within the last ten or so minutes...he wiped hot tears and sweat away from his stinging eyes, cursing himself. How had he let this situation grow so out of control so quickly? The dozen Shenaihu had been joined by two dozen more, and they weren't showing any sign of wearing down, while he was up here, out of energy and ideas! What the hell were these people made of...? Were they even people at all?\n\nThey were the _nuhm'ndah_ , he realized with a chilling certainty. Spiritually they were Shenaihu, but they were bred so purely that very little humanity remained. Nehalé had hoped the Shenaihu would not sink to this level of violence so soon, but it seemed his recent fears were correct. The Shenaihu had just answered in kind to his Awakening ritual, and this was the outcome. But who had resurrected them? Who among the Shenaihu was behind this? Janoss Miradesi? Or someone higher?\n\nReverend Miriam had been able to get many of the recently Awakened to safety within minutes, but even he hadn't been able to save everyone. Over twenty lay dead now, each one of their departed souls having left their searing marks within him. Nehalé refused to curse this gift of empathy. The pain served as a reminder of whom he was meant to protect. Fifteen of the more seriously injured lay hidden in various parts of the cathedral, praying to the One to protect their lives. He had also sustained a broken rib, multiple lacerations, and a very deep drain in his Mendaihu energy. The physical injuries he could live with, but the loss of strength was enough to scare him.\n\nHe could not find nor sense Reverend Miriam anywhere within the church.\n\nHe found himself praying to the One of All Sacred again, wishing for any hope this would end soon. His fear, distracting as it was, could not be focused on, not now. He had to reach his senses out farther and nail down these _nuhm'ndah_ , if indeed they were still there. All had gone silent after those ten minutes, shortly after his last aggressor had pinned him up against a Baronas fresco, twenty feet off the floor. The levitation had been the other man's doing; Nehalé was just doing all he could to stay alive.\n\n\" _Where is she?_ \" the man had roared, his the hatred in his eyes searing into him. \" _WHERE IS SHE?_ \"\n\nHe knew exactly who he'd been looking for. And that was as far as his aggressor had gotten before Nehalé pushed himself off the wall, physical and Mendaihu energy combined. The man hadn't expected the move and screamed angrily, flailing backwards to the floor. With the added momentum, Nehalé sent himself sideways towards the choir loft. He heard the sickening crash of the nuhm'ndah body hitting the ground just as he landed haphazardly, crashing into an upper pew and sprawling to the floor. There had been no rebound, no regaining of stance and pursuit. His opponent had inexplicably taken the fatal blow.\n\nHe did not feel the death that time.\n\nHe exhaled, understanding what he would need to do now. His plan to Awaken of the One of All Sacred had not included such a violent backlash by the renegade Shenaihu. At most, he had been ready for some opposition — part of the reason for the _shimshiya_ of Mendaihu at the Waterfront warehouse. He would have to change plans drastically. The shimshiya would have to become something more...\n\nCrouched now on his haunches, his eyesight narrowed to the shards of painted glass in front of him from the windows above. His breathing slowed but still strained from his injuries, he focused inwards to regain some energy.\n\n_One of All Sacred...I am doing this for you._ The image of the girl in his mind was clear as ever. Yet that was all it was, an image and nothing more. A mental view of her essence, the one he'd felt after all the chaos of the Awakening ritual. Throughout it all, it was her energy, its constant flow that guided him that night. _You are here._ She was the One of All Sacred, come again. _They will not have you._\n\nHe was startled out of his thoughts by a frustrated grunt and the loud cracking of stone, followed by the crash and rumble of a toppled statue falling to the floor. The shattered remains rolled away, crashing into the wooden pews and marble floor. The sounds echoed through the cathedral, nearly masking the approaching footsteps beneath. Nehalé listened in complete stillness.\n\n\"Final shot yet to be taken,\" the man called from the aisles below, sounding very sure of himself. \"Well met, edha Nehalé Usarai.\"\n\nNehalé shivered. _He's back._\n\n\"Nehalé,\" Janoss Miradesi called out. \"I am quite sure you are here and still among the living. I can sense you as well as you can sense me. You're weakened and in not the best of shape, but you're most definitely here. I wish to speak with you as equal, Mendaihu to Shenaihu.\" When Nehalé did not answer, he cleared his throat and spoke louder. \"I recognize you as Mendaihu, as Nehalé Usarai. Your essence precedes you, tell you the truth. Especially after that little show the other day. You may call me Janoss Miradesi.\"\n\n\"I know who you are,\" Nehalé said under his breath. He looked up, but dared not lift his head yet. Inner senses told him the man was standing dead center of the nave and the transept, looking directly up at him. Why had he returned?\n\n\"Not bad for newborns, Nehalé,\" Janoss called up to him. \"But you can do better than that. I know you can. You were chosen for it.\"\n\n\"You won't trick me!\" Nehalé called out in anger, before he could stop himself.\n\nJanoss laughed quietly. \"Oh, I don't plan to trick you, my sehnadha. We are both luminous beings, are we not? We do not need to resort to trickery to get what we want. Come down, friend, I only wish to speak with you, nothing more.\"\n\nNehalé bit his lower lip. He did not move from his place in the loft. Grasping both hands together, he exhaled, and redirected what was left of his energy towards the Light source within, toward the center of his being. Slowly at first, then with an excited rush, he felt the inward sweep draw his heart towards that Infinite Light, towards the One. Instinct took over the physical realm as he entered the spiritual. All was Light...\n\nOne of All Sacred...I wish your guidance. I am facing one who may be my greatest enemy. This man wishes to take the young girl who will yet align to the Awakening and become the One's Ninth Embodiment. I admit, dearest Light, that I still do not know their plans. Why would they take you, when You as the One of All Sacred cannot be taken by anyone! Do they wish to corrupt you? Kill you? Keep you from becoming?\n\nMy only wish, Dearest One, is to protect you with Love, Peace and Light, as I do the Gharné of this world.\n\nIf it means I must Awaken the world of the Gharné in the process, so be it. I shall always bear the guilt of those taken away in Your Name...but I understand now that your Awakening was predestined.\n\nNehalé peered over the bench and saw Janoss. He stood patiently down below, hands in pockets, absently kicking shards of fallen statue as if they were pebbles on the ground. For a man who had just commandeered a violent attack upon a cathedral, he seemed quite patient, even demure, in waiting for Nehalé's answer.\n\nDearest One, I shall meet with him under the Eyes of Truth.\n\nNehalé closed his eyes tight, and stepped into Light.\n\nA second later he stood twenty feet away from the physical appearance of Janoss Miradesi, who appeared only as a blurred reflection in this reality. The form shook terribly, like a pirated vidmat image, obscuring a separate solid shape underneath. The True Self under Janoss' image was a dark and heavy mass, its shape hard to detect in the dim light of the cathedral. He was smart to hide and protect himself so well; this chaotic boundary kept him from being found by all but the strongest spiritsensers. No wonder Nehalé had trouble getting a bead on him!\n\nHe floated closer to him, stopping mere feet away. Step into the Light, Janoss, Nehalé growled from within. Show your True Self.\n\nThe blur that was Janoss shook with laughter. \"If you so wish,\" he said. The blur congealed, warping and bending into the physical shape of the man that every human and Meraladian knew him to be. It was obviously not his true spirit form, however, as it had only held for a few brief seconds before it began to ripple and mutate again. Splashes of color came and went all over his body, flashing from the tanned Meraladian skin to a vivid deep black and back again, finally settling on a blue-black as scale began to appear all over his body. His face began to elongate, pulling into a snout, and he dropped down to a squat as his limbs grew and took on more muscle, taking on a quadrupedal form. Long and lethal talons grew from the ends of his fingers and toes, scraping up against the marble floor as he shifted position.\n\nFinally he settled into a large, sleek, dragonlike shape. His deep earth-toned scale-skin glistened underneath the dusty sunshine pouring through the broken windows above. He rotated his neck up then around as if stretching into his new shape, hands reaching down to the floor, palms open. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, drank in the sunlight and devoured the remains of the displaced spirits around him, and exhaled hot, sticky breath out through his wide mouth. A grotesque smile crossed his face, revealing tips of fangs. He was alive.\n\nNehalé shivered at the image before him. This cannot be...! There was only one kind of spirit who could become a dragon spirit, and that was a cho-nyhndah...a true twin spirit. A kiralla.\n\nJanoss had both pure Mendaihu and Shenaihu spirit within him! How could he have done this much damage to the Mendaihu being the way he was? Goddess...the man must have lost his faith years ago! Nehalé regained his composure quickly, before Janoss could see him.\n\n\"So here I am, oh Mendaihu,\" Janoss said mockingly, waving a clawed hand in the air. \"Show yourself, then, and let's be done with it.\"\n\nNehalé accepted the dare. Letting the final veils drop away, he felt the physical embodiment of his Spirit taking shape. Completely revealing one's true soul was to stand naked to the spiritual, to become vulnerable to those within the realm. His tattered clothes fell away and disappeared into his memory, replaced by a shimmering white robe flowing down over the floor. Its edges brushed silently up and over the shards of the statue scattered across the floor, reducing each piece of broken marble to fine sand. Just as Reverend Miriam had turned the glass to dust to protect the parishioners, Nehalé had turned the stone back to its original basic elements. With each renewal, he felt the strength within him building ever higher. He was healing, both himself and the spirits surrounding him.\n\nA near silent rush of wings cut through the air behind him.\n\n\"Turn around, Janoss.\"\n\nJanoss turned slowly, first neck then body, in one fluid movement. The smile widened.\n\n\"An angel, eh?\" he hummed. \"Very apt imagery, my friend, considering.\"\n\nNehalé had to grin. \"Not in the conventional Gharné myth sense, Janoss. I am but a Warrior Mendaihu for the One.\"\n\nJanoss lifted his snout in a quick movement that must have been the equivalent of a sneer, and barked out a quick laugh. \"They're the same thing on this world, Nehalé. Just an inspired watchdog.\"\n\nNehalé refused to counter his remark. \"It is a noble position, Janoss. Why do you come?\"\n\nJanoss' scaled and clawed hands clenched immediately. A long, nasal sigh emanated out of him as a low and hissing growl. Nehalé consciously moved back half a step, hands loose at his sides. Janoss watched him out of the corner of his eyes, but said nothing. His now-sloped shoulders sagged with what seemed like a mixture of defeat and fatigue.\n\n\"We are chained, both you and I,\" Janoss said. His tone, quiet and introspective, chilled Nehalé. \"We are constricted. Do you understand? I am chaos. You are order. And neither of us can ever completely understand what the other does. For if we did, neither of us would then have a reason to live.\"\n\nNehalé narrowed his eyes at him. \"That's no answer.\"\n\n\"Then tell me, friend. Why do you believe I am here? Certainly not to cause further chaos and kill all these poor, wretched souls? I feel the stinging pain of loss the same you do, Nehalé, do not forget that.\"\n\nHis own voice thundered within himself. Why do you come, Janoss?\n\nJanoss turned and faced him straight on. The dragon's dark pearl eyes stared into his, and for a moment Nehalé shuddered. For that brief second, he felt the Shenaihu coldness. In that moment he understood, however briefly. A glimmer of compassion came over him, only to be chased away by his own vengeance, and it sickened him.\n\n\"I come to level the playing field, sehnadha,\" Janoss said, to his surprise. The honorific had emotion behind it. \"We, the Shenaihu, were not the ones to abandon The One of All Sacred. We were the ones abandoned.\"\n\n\"...the shimshiya?\" Nehalé asked. \"This isn't the Gathering you're talking about...\"\n\n\"Gathering? Pfaah!\" Janoss waved a dismissive clawed hand at him. \"That will never work. The only way we can live peacefully together is by polarity. Mendaihu and Shenaihu, separately, working for the same goal.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you,\" Nehalé growled.\n\n\"What, you think a...a forced cho-nyhndah is going to work? There are hardly any left on this damn planet!\"\n\nHe paused, shrugged. \"I still don't believe you,\" he said.\n\n\"Disbelieve all you want,\" he sneered, showing a long canine fang. \"We are coming back, Mendaihu. The Shenaihu are returning to the fold. And it is all thanks to you—\"\n\n\"Not by force, Janoss. Not even by using the nuhm'ndah. It only leads to death.\" Nehalé's hands balled into fists. \"It is forbidden, Janoss —\"\n\n\"Nothing is forbidden in chaos, Nehalé! Do you still not understand?\" Janoss roared at Nehalé, and dove at him.\n\nNehalé didn't expect the attack and sidestepped too late, and Janoss slammed into his left shoulder, sending them sprawling onto the rubble-laden floor, the jagged edges of stone and glass ripping painfully into his back. They were no longer within the Light, Nehalé realized with horror — he'd been forced out of the protective otherwhere by Janoss, forcibly pulled back into cold reality. The stinging pain of his injuries roared back to his senses and he let out a pathetic howl. There were few who could have done that to him, and only one who would have been able to so as easily as he did. Only one person, the cho-nyhndah...Nehalé's twin spirit, the one whose essence was the mirror image of his. To find out now, of all times, that it was Janoss...\n\nOne of All...!\n\n\"That's right,\" Janoss giggled. \"Pray to the One. She'll help you. We know where she is.\"\n\nNehalé shut off his mind to him immediately. \"You won't have her!\" he growled. He had to leave here, now, before this escalated any further. To stay and fight Janoss would only cause more damage, to himself and to those around him. He couldn't have this fight now, not here. Summoning up what remained of his energy, he lifted up his hands, exhaled, and pushed. Light burst out of his hands, hitting Janoss square in the chest and sending him skyward. That gave him enough time to gather himself and prepare for a last step into Light. Janoss was now at least twenty or so feet up in the air, having forced himself from slamming against the stone wall, a shaky hand held against it. He hovered there, gasping and coughing up blood, but his glaring eyes never left Nehalé's...they were now full and dark, and filled with hatred.\n\nBehind him, Nehalé heard the crashing of doors again, and the thunderous clamor of running men entering the church. Janoss had called for reinforcements.\n\nWe are returning, Nehalé! His inner spiritual voice tore the air and sent a shockwave through the church, shattering glass and upturning the pews. He pushed off the wall and aimed directly for him, accelerating as he closed in. WE ARE RETURNING! Janoss Miradesi's words seethed within Nehalé's mind. This time he couldn't avoid the hit, couldn't turn away...he had to stand his ground and prepare for the impact. Janoss crashed hard, his shoulder digging into his upper chest, knocking wind out of him. Both flew backwards into the pews, crashing through them, towards the southwestern tower. Nehalé braced for each successive hit, until he noticed they were not decelerating but accelerating towards the back corner. Each of the shattering pews tore into his back, splinters driven deep into his flesh...\n\nNehalé. Reverend Miriam! The man was alive? Where was he? Call them, he said to him. Call them all.\n\n\"Do you dare?\" Janoss mocked him, lifting him up until they were once again hovering above the benches. He'd heard the priest's voice as well. \"Do you dare go that far, Nehalé?\"\n\nUndaunted, he laughed, his wild and dark eyes burning into Nehalé's. \"Do you dare turn this into a war?\"\n\nNehalé shuddered as he struggled in Janoss' grip. This was already a war, long before he involved himself in it. He'd already accepted that his actions could start another season of Embodiment; he was only this cycle's leader of the resistance. But he knew this cycle was different...this one could be the last, if he never wavered from his plans. Though he'd only just realized that Janoss was his brother in spirit, he would not waver. Even with all the deaths and the lost souls that would be in his name, he would not waver. This was too important. He was to bring about the True One of All Sacred, the Last One in Spirit, who would retain the balance of everything.\n\nIt was worth the sacrifice, to make things whole again.\n\n\"I dare,\" he said, never looking away.\n\nHe felt the Rain of Light surging through the church, and took hold of it. Awaken, Mendaihu Gharra, Nehalé called out, as emphatically as he could, as far as he could reach. Awaken, Protectors of Earth! Come forth and fight for your faith.\n\nJanoss twitched and wavered. \"That's...not going to work,\" he grunted, and began shoving him backwards again, accelerating as he did so. But the few remaining and unscathed Mendaihu had begun to pick themselves up and face the charging Shenaihu. The Shenaihu stopped in their places, momentarily surprised and a little bit afraid. Clearly Janoss had not expected their defenses to last so long. They appeared everywhere, suddenly surrounding everyone, including Janoss and Nehalé, and moving in. In a collective voice, in a collective spirit, they spoke within him.\n\ndehndarra Né hra nyhndah.\n\nFlashes of brilliant light. The newly Awakened surged forth as one great wall of strength, forcing the charging Shenaihu down in a matter of seconds. They would not yield. Nehalé knew that it indeed had just begun. He had not told them to fight for dominance, nor had Reverend Miriam ordered them. They were, as he had promised, fighting to protect the One of All Sacred. The newly awakened had understood the inevitable battle of Dark and Light. The Shimshiya, the joining of the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, would happen. The Great Ascension, far greater than the Awakening or even the Cleansing, would happen.\n\nNehalé smiled, and closed his eyes again...\n\nPeace, Love and Light to you all, he said.\n\n...stepped into midair, and into Light, leaving Janoss' still accelerating body crashing alone into a stone pillar and cracking it nearly in half. Janoss bounced limply off it and landed on the floor with a sickening crunch, all the energy gone out of him. He lay there, bruised and out of breath, for a long time, while chaos erupted all around him in the church, beginning to spill outside.\n\n\"Y...you will never ascend...\" he coughed.\n\nThen he too, broken but still full of venom, stepped into midair. This time, into Darkness.\n\n*\n\nThe shuddering reptilian Shenaihuza spiritform of Janoss Miradesi stepped out of the air and onto the cold pavement of the waterfront district warehouse. He walked with a pronounced limp to the right, an unfortunate injury acquired during his struggle with Nehalé Usarai. Though the battle itself had been glorious, his injury was an undignified one. It wasn't so much his pride that had been hurt, but his frustration that the catch had eluded him.\n\nHe'd decided not to dwell on this failure. Somewhere Nehalé nursed injuries worse than his own. They would both heal before the end of the day — he could sense Nehalé's regenerative powers as strongly as his own — but both would now carry scars of the battle. Whether he or Nehalé would keep those scars was up to question. He chose, at least for now, to carry them as a matter of Shenaihu pride.\n\nHe trudged heavily across the dust-laden floor towards the rear of the building, not really paying attention to where he was going and following instinct instead. Somewhere behind the disused equipment and partially collapsed racking there was a short hallway leading to the back offices. Behind the last office was a door, rusted shut to everyone except those who could walk through. It led to the maintenance tunnels, and beyond those to Bridgetown's forgotten underground railways. He lifted a scaly, bony hand and laid it flat against the door. Closing his eyes, his spirit sensed the breeze of both the air currents and the multitudes of spirit winds flowing by. The heavy breath echoed off the brick walls ahead, as if pleading for his presence. The corners of his mouth lifted in an attempted smile at the selfish thought.\n\nFingers curling, his claws scraped against the dust and paint of the door, flecks chipping off and falling to the floor. The door itself was cold; colder it than it should have been, it seemed. Janoss was reminded of the third reality of Trisanda, the wastelands of his youth, of the constant bitter-tasting air and stinging cold winds of the land to which the useless nuhm'ndah were corralled and forgotten.\n\nForgotten so quickly, he thought bitterly. Cast aside. Abandoned on a bleak world.\n\nHe breathed deeply, twice, then stepped through, spirit pulling along the physical.\n\nThe Rain of Light, he said within himself. He was now on the other side of the door, standing in a dimly lit hallway covered in dust and debris. The spirit winds shifted, temporarily stopping, swirling around his reptilian body as if picking up his scent, and then moving on, westward in the direction of the Mirades Tower. Inhaling, he tasted these ethereal energies, unimaginably sweet on his tongue and euphoric on his nerves. They welcomed Janoss blindly, unconscious of body but exacting in spirit. Their unseen presence gently pushed him northward, towards the Mirades Tower.\n\nI awaken you, children, he said within.\n\nThe spirits shivered around him, vibrating the air, and shimmering into life. Displaced air clicked loud and echoed down the dusty tunnel, energy blasting tiny sparks which illuminated the chipped masonry around him. The closest spirits danced off his skin excitedly, and Janoss opened his mouth in a giddy laugh. The taste of these spirits! The boundless energy they held! He could not get enough. Nehalé Usarai must have felt the same dizzying thrill.\n\nI awaken you, he sang out gleefully. Come and join me in this dance of life!\n\nHe exhaled long and even, his warm breath condensing in the cold air and dissipating as the spirits shot through it hungrily. Each spirit in turn seemed to glow and shimmer with each pass through the air, pulsating like stars.\n\nAwaken —\n\nA rumbling piercing storm of dust suddenly shot past him, tasting like burning garbage and also strangely of cinnamon, pushing him backwards. He skidded, arms suddenly flailing at the tunnel walls just out of his reach. Something had pushed him away...something stronger than himself. Not to be beaten, he angrily pushed himself forward again until he regained his footing. The spirit wind began to dissipate around him, lost to another reality now, and caught the next wind, disappearing behind him. He squinted and lifted a hand to block the dust, and tried to see ahead, but there was nothing but dry, dusty darkness. He coughed and spat as he attempted to breathe, and eventually turned his back to the wind and lowered his head to his chest.\n\nWhat...what is happening?\n\n\"Janoss Miradesi.\"\n\nWho –\n\n\"Come now, you know who I am. It's me. You knew I'd be here.\"\n\nGasping for air, Janoss opened his eyes. He was staring at his feet, his eyes watering from the dust storm that was no longer there. He coughed and spat out the dryness in his throat, brushing the dirt and grime and soot from his clothes. He looked at his hands — they were no longer the true Shenaihuza...they were flesh and bone of Gharné. Human hands. Reality had returned again, though not by his command. He heard the shuffling of steps and spun around. In the dim light he could see the dark eyes, the close-cropped auburn hair, the hard face and frowning mouth of Natianos Lehanna.\n\n\"N—Natianos...\" Janoss managed, staring at the man that towered over him. \"What...what just happened?\"\n\nNatianos, ill-dressed for this dank tunnel in a tailored navy suit, crossed his arms and gave him a wilting smile. Janoss Miradesi shivered in both awe and fear.\n\n\"Not yet,\" he said, shaking his head. \"You will know when to awaken them.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, edha,\" Janoss said, averting his eyes.\n\n\"Janoss, my dear sehnadha.\" His voice was unnervingly calm. \"We are equals here. There's no need for formalities. You are well?\"\n\n\"Y—yes,\" he said, and coughed one last time. \"Injured, but otherwise fine. What brings you down here?\"\n\n\"Injured?\" Natianos said, more as a surprised comment than a question. He paused to study him, leaving Janoss to wonder what the man was thinking of him at that moment. Probably not much, he admitted. It had been a pathetic fight.\n\nJanoss tested the air with a sigh before speaking again. \"I am afraid that we did not completely fulfill our goals today. I was unable to obtain Reverend Miriam. I tried to stop Nehalé Usarai, but he proved more powerful than I'd expected.\"\n\nNatianos pursed his lips and nodded slowly. \"You have made our presence known,\" he said after a moment. \"That is enough.\"\n\nJanoss frowned. \"It's not enough, you know that. We need to do more.\"\n\n\"You prepare too much, Janoss!\" he said. \"You carried out the main objective, and that is more than sufficient. The hrrah-sehdhyn movement is underway. Soon the Mendaihu will understand why we have moved in such a manner. We have let them think they have won — in fact, we even pushed their plans farther ahead than they'd expected. The hrrah-sehdhyn will prove to be their saving grace and their downfall.\"\n\nJanoss nodded solemnly.\n\nThe nuhm'ndah shall no longer be left to die, Natianos said from within.\n\n\"I...\" Janoss trembled. We...are returning?\n\nYes...the nuhm'ndah are returning, as you have promised to Nehalé Usarai and all his followers. There is a gathering of Mendaihu and Shenaihu in the Waterfront sector as we speak. Our humble Governor has even sanctioned it. It is there that it will all happen.\n\nJanoss found he couldn't contain his silence anymore and spoke aloud. \"When is it all going to happen?\"\n\n\"When the One enters Light for the first time. That is when we shall move. She will be vulnerable, and more importantly, she will not have truly transcended yet. Not until then.\"\n\n\"Yes, edha,\" he said. \"Will we have people in the Waterfront?\"\n\n\"They are already there, and they will know when to act,\" he said. Janoss thought caught a sense of sadness in his voice, an affectation he couldn't quite hide, but dared not question it. \"We have a number of Shenaihu infiltrating the crowds. Highly trained, nearly impossible to track them down. They will take over when ordered.\"\n\nAgain, he heard that sadness. \"Yes, sir,\" is all he could reply.\n\nIn the semi-darkness of the tunnel, Natianos moved to Janoss' side and put an arm around him. \"Come,\" he said, quieter this time. \"It is time we prepared ourselves.\" He walked forward from the way he came, and with Janoss in tow, the air around them began to shimmer and undulate. Janoss had wanted to ask where they were about to go when a nervous twitch took a hold of him. Natianos pulled him forward through this undulating air and together they entered the Light.\n\nCHAPTER TEN\n\n_Sheila_\n\nSheila Kennedy positioned herself flat against the wall outside Nehalé Usarai's apartment, stunstik in hand and a mental strand out for potential hazards — like those two little brats hiding in the stairwell down the hall, waiting for the action to unfold — and plotted out how she and Nick were going to capture Nehalé and bring him in, if he was even here at this point. Rumors had him in all corners of Bridgetown: he and his disciples were already at a warehouse over in the Waterfront, he was seen fraternizing with the Shenaihu in South City, he was hiding with friends in Berndette Corner...he was even sensed around the Mirades Tower again. She didn't believe any of it, even if they were positive readings. He was too smart to stay in one place; he was also smart enough to leave numerous false trails...including here, in his own apartment. She turned to Nick, who flanked the other side of the doorframe, and pointed at the door.\n\nHe nodded and rapped on the door. \"...edha Nehalé Usarai?\" he called. \"Edha Usarai, this is the Alien Relations Unit.\" No answer came so he knocked again. He called out, same words as before. Again, a third time, with still no answer. \"Huh,\" he said. \"Indisposed.\"\n\n\"Up and out, more like it,\" she frowned. \"Let me check.\" She hated doing this, as it always felt like an invasion of privacy, but it was a necessary evil. Out of their four-person team, she was the best at it, even more so than Caren. She pulled off a glove and placed a hand against the door, the weathered wood rings rippling over her fingertips. She felt the coldness within, the feeling of a window left open on a brisk autumn day, and not much else. She listened for a few more seconds, but found nothing.\n\n\"Nothing at all?\" Nick asked in a whisper.\n\n\"Hang on,\" she said, more to herself than to Nick. She put the stunstik away, took off her other glove, and put both hands on the door. She closed her eyes, and willfully shut out all extraneous sounds and sensations.\n\nShe very nearly missed them, but they were there, hiding way below the surface. The pools of energy had faded, nearly to the point of nonexistence. What she now picked up were the false memories that so often came with any dwelling. They were leftover waves of emotions, life essences, and records of moments that lingered for a while after a person left their dwelling. She concentrated on the most coherent memories and attempted to stir them to life again. It wasn't too hard, once she knew where and what they were. All they needed was a breath of moving energy. Almost immediately she felt a lift in ambience...Nehalé had been here very recently, probably within the last two hours. Shapes and notions fell away, replaced with more concrete images of the apartment. Slowly all the energies swirled and came together, becoming synchronous and coherent in her mind...\n\nNehalé Usarai sits in the apartment most days, when he's not at work. He doesn't do much. No vidmats, no sound system, no mediachips. No computers, either. He just sits there, most of the night.\n\nDoing what??\n\nListening.\n\n_He's listening to...something? The Sprawl? No. Wait — yes! He_ is _listening to the Sprawl. Like I'm listening to him. He hears..._\n\nNo. Can't reach it. He's...he's listening to us? To human life? Why?\n\nSheila pulled her hands away from the door and opened her eyes, backing away for the moment. Now that she knew where to reach, reconnecting would be easier. She relaxed and turned back to the door.\n\n\"What?\" he said.\n\n\"He's a Watcher, that's for certain,\" she said. She tested the doorknob and was surprised to find it unlocked. She waved at Nick to hold just in case, and opened the door, pushing herself against the frame as the door swung open wide. It thudded against the entrance wall, echoing into the apartment. It was not the echo she wanted to hear; it fully reverberated off all the walls, like a voice in a completely bare room. She peered around for a quick look. \"I think it's empty,\" she muttered.\n\n\"You think...?\" he said flatly.\n\n\"Shut up,\" she said, and pointed into the apartment. \"You first.\"\n\nNick held his stunstik in hand, and entered quickly and quietly. Sheila glanced down the hall, towards the stairwell, and frowned. The two kids were still there, around the corner, waiting. They were thinking about getting closer to the excitement, as soon as they entered the apartment. That was the last thing she needed.\n\n_Get out of here, you little shits!_ she said within.\n\nThe kids responded with sudden yelping and scampering down to the lower floors, culminating with a loud slam of a stairwell door downstairs. Throwing her inner voice was the first Mendaihu trick she'd learned as a novice. She hardly ever used it, but it certainly came in handy when she had to chase people away from a potential crime scene.\n\n\"All clear,\" Nick said from within the apartment.\n\nShe entered the apartment and stopped midstride, surprised and more than a little disturbed by what she saw. The place had been completely emptied out, including all the furniture and appliances. There were fresh scratches on the hardwood floor, and sun-faded outlines on the institutional beige walls, signs that furniture, frames and floor coverings had been there for quite some time, and had been moved just recently. There was one rather large patch of wall in the common area lighter than the rest and outlined by multiple nail holes, which gave the impression that a large widescreen vidmat had once hung there. Other telltale spots revealed shelving units, a mediachip player unit...all contradicting what she'd just sensed outside in the hallway.\n\n\" _Pashyo_ ,\" she huffed. \"Not only does the guy vanish with the rest of his crap, he puts a fake cover on it as well. He was stacked with media here.\"\n\nNick hummed in answer. He was pacing around the apartment's perimeter, gloves on and picking up stray pieces of paper or objects that had been left behind. He poked into the back bedroom, the tiny bathroom, and the kitchenette, and found nothing worth keeping. It was all dirt, dust, and paint chips — signs that someone had just recently moved out and the landlord hadn't yet ordered a quick turnover renovation. He exited the short hallway and entered the main living room again. \"What's the reading inside?\" he asked.\n\nShe made a quick scan and came up with nothing out of the ordinary. Or more to the point, the reading was exactly the same as the one she'd taken at the door—nothing but memory puddles of what the apartment once looked like, probably not a day ago. Something was out of place here, but she couldn't quite pinpoint where it was. Nehalé had to have left something that one with her abilities would be able to find. She slowly made a third scan, this time pacing the edges of the apartment. She ignored the physical attributes around her, searching instead for a memory puddle where it wouldn't normally be. She stopped again after coming full circle, standing almost directly underneath a bare light bulb. She grunted, and moved back to the center of the room, disappointed.\n\n\"Maybe I'm just listening to the wrong things,\" she said, and closed her eyes—\n\nnuhm'ndah.\n\nThe word hit her directly and without warning. It echoed within her soul as a feedback loop and grew in intensity, forcing her backwards and out of the memory puddle. Eyes wide and gasping for air, she dizzily reached out behind her, misjudged her distance from the wall, and hit it hard with the back of her head. She swore again and fell flat against it in an attempt to keep from falling over. The piercing voice vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared, but the pain still lingered.\n\nOne word, cleverly hidden, was all it took to incapacitate her, however briefly.\n\nNick stared at her, keeping his distance and remaining calm, but his eyes full of fear. \"What just happened?\"\n\n\"I...I'm okay,\" she managed, barely restraining her anger. Nehalé had violated her spiritual space with that planted word, and she had let it happen because she hadn't been paying attention. \"Everything just suddenly went... _cold_ for a second,\" she added. She looked at her hands; they were shaking slightly. She looked at Nick, saw him drop what he had and step quickly over to her. She began to waver...not a good sign. She tried pushing off, felt her head begin to spin, and fell back heavily against it, relishing the cold wall against her back. Through the haze of her sudden dizziness, she found focus, and willed herself to return.\n\n\"What happened?\" he asked again. His hands were held up before him, still ready to catch her. She found his stance unexpectedly amusing; it had just occurred to her that his hands were right about at the same level as her breasts, the first thing he'd come in contact with if she'd fallen forwards instead. Nick was too much of a gentleman to ever let that happen, but the thought struck her as hilarious, and made her giggle even more. \"What the hell are you laughing about?\" he frowned.\n\nShe waved the question away. Why _was_ she laughing? Why had that random thought popped in? Then it occurred to her — Nehalé had probably infused the area around the memory puddle with positive energy, especially just in case of an occasion like this. He wasn't just an adept, he was a healer as well. \"Nehalé's certainly our suspect. I just tripped over a memory puddle he left behind for us.\"\n\nNick mouthed a curse. \"At least we know he was here. But that still doesn't prove—\"\n\n\"We don't need to prove anything here,\" she interrupted, frowning. \"That wasn't just a random puddle I hit. He put that there on purpose for someone like me to find.\"\n\n> _chk chk ch-chk_ <\n\n\"Ah, crap,\" she grumbled at the hailing of her commlink, and grabbed it from her belt at the same time he went for his. \"Yeah, this is Kennedy.\"\n\nDispatch wasted no time filling them in. \"We received a call-in about a disturbance in the area of St. Patrick's, possibly inside the church...witnesses are sensing residual spiritual energies and possible conflict.\"\n\nShe frowned. \"Isn't that Rice and Billiel's beat?\"\n\n\"Rice and Billiel are busy at Ormand and West Krieger assisting the Fraserville ARU in breaking up a riot,\" they responded. \"Inspector Farraway requests you give the church a once-over as you're in the vicinity.\"\n\n\"A riot in Fraserville?\" she blurted. Fraserville was the quietest and most rural district in the city. Hardly anything happened there. \"Damn. Don't see _that_ often.\"\n\n\"We're getting reports it's minor,\" Dispatch said. \"BMPD's handling most of it.\"\n\nNick frowned at her and motioned at the two of them, mouthing a _why us?_ She waved him off, confirming the request. She signed off and turned to see Nick shaking his head.\n\n\"Out with it, Slater,\" she said.\n\n\"Don't worry about it. Just annoyed, is all.\"\n\nSheila stood her ground. \"That ain't it, Nick. What's _really_ bothering you? Was it the fact that I damn near fainted because of a memory puddle? Because if it is, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.\"\n\n\"No...\" he said. \"It has nothing to do with that. It's...well, I'm just getting a bad feeling.\"\n\nShe frowned at him, and began to nudge him towards the door again. \"The church?\" she said. \"Could be a simple B-and-E...it's a church in the McCleever District, so you can't always take the spirit signatures too seriously.\"\n\n\"This early in the afternoon?\" he said, and checked his watch as they left. \"No...they'd still have an open door right now. Most of the churches around here do. But a disturbance at the church and a riot in Fraserville? Maybe it's just me, but this just doesn't feel right.\"\n\n\"I feel that way all the damned time,\" she said as she closed the door, pulled out the security sealant glue and made a quick spray of the outline of the door. She tested the door by turning the knob and pushing against it; the glue had sealed it shut, refusing to budge. Pocketing the spray can, she followed him down the hall.\n\nCHAPTER ELEVEN\n\n_Caren_\n\nRelax. Caren took a third deep breath. A fourth. Relax, girl. Hra khera...hra mehra...\n\nPoe squeezed her hand. \"Caren...are you all right?\"\n\nShe was far from all right. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, and the spinning in her head hadn't completely gone away. The mantra did little to calm her this time, other than helping her regain some sense of command of her nervous system. She had managed to cap the surge of adrenalin coursing through her body and she was no longer shaking, but her brain was still stuck in overdrive. The unanswered questions swirled around her head, one leading to another with no end in sight —\n\n— _is this all really happening...please don't let this be the Mendaihu fucking with my head...why do I know what I'm hearing and feeling to be true...I can't prove any of it...what is it...is it...have I really awakened...damn you Nehalé for doing this to me...oh goddess don't let Denni get involved...involved...who else? who is involved...what the hell is Nehalé trying to do...why are the Shenaihu choosing now to attack...no, it's retaliation...no it can't...wait, wait, calm down girl...why the Shenaihu at all...and how is Kindeiya involved...Kindeiya, why is he so damn elusive...who else is involved...who else —_\n\n— _Why am I believing all this? Why do I understand all of this_ now?\n\nIs Reverend Miriam —\n\nA final stray thought crossed her mind: Miriam. What does Matthew know about me and my family?\n\n\"Caren?\"\n\nShe turned and caught his eyes. What does Alec know about me?\n\n\"Vidmat on,\" she called out, past Poe's still-kneeling form. \"Emergency link to Kennedy-Slater, McCleever Central Sector. Secure.\"\n\nSeconds later a fisheye image filled the screen of Sheila sitting behind a steering wheel, shot by the minicam fitted into the visor above her. She was scanning the area outside the car, completely avoiding eye contact with the visor cam above the driver's seat. Her chin rested in her hand, elbow perched on the window, and her eyebrows arched lazily. She looked magnificently bored. \"You got Kennedy,\" she muttered.\n\n\"Sheila,\" she said. \"It's Caren. Anything to report?\"\n\nShe grunted in response. Her eyes swept the opposite sidewalk, and then glanced over to the passenger side before repeating again. She arched a brow and glanced up at the camera. \"Nothing at all. Nick's across the street from the church right now. I'm at the corner, full view of the place.\"\n\nCaren frowned. \"No disturbances?\"\n\n\"Not that I can see. After a drive-by and a stop, we haven't seen a damn thing. It's quiet around here.\"\n\nCould this just be a false alarm? She glanced quickly at Poe. She could only wonder what he was thinking right now...this was his neighborhood, and they were probably a half-mile away from his apartment building. He knew a lot of his neighbors personally, knew a lot of the visitors as well. Though he didn't know Reverend Miriam, he certainly knew of him. Matthew's words echoed in her head again...this time it made sense. The priest was obviously an Elder and complicit in Nehalé's actions and whereabouts. She was surprised Poe hadn't figured that out earlier.\n\n\"Dispatch didn't tell you want was going on?\" she asked.\n\n\"Multiple calls from locals saying they saw and sensed a disturbance and a possible breaking and entering,\" Sheila responded, choosing her words carefully. She did another visual sweep before turning back to the camera. \"You wouldn't know it from out here, though. I don't think anyone even notices an undercover squad car is parked in a tow away zone, to tell you the truth. Just a few locals walking by, a few cars...that's it.\"\n\n\"Can you do a sensory sweep?\" she asked. Poe looked at her in surprise but she waved him off.\n\nSheila frowned deeply at the camera. \"You're serious,\" she said.\n\n\"Just humor me,\" Caren said. \"I just want to make sure of something.\"\n\nShe bit her lip, looking away. \"You are serious,\" she said after a moment. She hadn't liked the suggestion, but she understood why it was brought up. \"I'll need to pop outside to do that, my mojo isn't strong right now. Here, let me switch to the outside camera and give you control.\" Her hand reached off screen to the dashboard controls. The vidmat image flickered and adjusted for the light difference, and focused on an open stretch of Ormand Street. It was just like any other midday scene, with a fair amount of both pedestrian and vehicle traffic. Caren stepped up to the vidmat and began sliding a finger across the bottom of it. The camera responded by panning off to the left until she could see the front of the church, and tapped again to zoom in. A second later she heard an audible click and the sound of ambient street noise as Sheila turned on her wireless mic. \"Bear with me,\" she said. \"I'm still a bit off from visiting edha Usarai's place. I'll tell you about that later.\"\n\nMoments later Sheila stepped into view, walking across the front courtyard and stopping near the first set of pillars. She leaned against one of them, facing away from the church, and closed her eyes. She dropped her hands to her side, holding them just above the pillar's surface as she centered herself again. Finally after a few moments, she let her fingertips graze the pillar, and she twitched and gasped in response. \"Oh...!\" she said, laughing quietly, her face red. \"Wow...hell of a lot of Mendaihu energy going on here. Let me try that again.\" This time she slapped both hands flat against the pillar, taking the full brunt of the reading all at once. She twitched again and let out a grunt, but this time rode the wave. \"Yeah, okay...\" she said, nodding distractedly. \"Okay...yeah, it's damn strong here, I can see why you asked. There's...wow, there's at least a hundred Mendaihu inside right now.\"\n\nCaren zoomed the camera out slightly until the church's front doors were centered, leaving Sheila off to the side. Nick had returned and was leaning up against another pillar at the opposite side of the courtyard. He had tapped his own wireless mic on but said nothing. He had so far kept his cool, which was a blessing.\n\n\"Any signs of distress?\" Caren asked.\n\n\"I can't tell,\" she said. \"If there are, they're hiding it damned well.\" She exhaled and looked across the way at Nick; she'd sensed his arrival. \"Hey,\" she said. \"You see anything?\"\n\n\"Did a circuit on the grounds,\" he said. \"Not a thing.\"\n\nSheila grunted. \"That's what I thought. They put up a barrier.\"\n\nCaren frowned. Why would a congregation consciously put up a protective barrier to keep out...? She was about to ask, when Poe's cellphone went off, startling them both. He picked it up without a word and gestured toward the office door. She nodded, and turned back to the vidmat. \"What do you have?\" she asked.\n\n\"It sounds like...praying,\" she said. \"The barrier's at the front doors.\" She started to say more, but stopped in sudden realization of something. She quickly turned to Nick. \"Hey,\" she said. \"Make another circuit.\"\n\nNick gave her a wilting look. \"Should I be looking for anything?\"\n\n\"Listening,\" she said. \"Just do it, and keep the wireless on. I want to hear what you're hearing. And get as close as you can this time, against the building if you can.\" He wasn't sure what she had in mind, but he nodded and stepped out of frame again. She waited until he was around the corner before turning back to face the camera. She tapped on her wireless, opening up a private audio channel. \"You still there, Caren?\"\n\n\"Still on.\"\n\n\"Something's going down,\" she said as quietly as she could. \"I can't sense what, but it's not going to be good.\" She leaned out past the edge of the pillar, glancing at the church again. \"I didn't say anything to Nick...but I'm not just sensing Mendaihu, Caren. There's Shenaihu in there as well. And you know how well they mix in this kind of situation.\"\n\n\"Wait...say that again?\" she heard from the hallway. She glanced at the door in concern, but she didn't hear anything further from Poe. Refusing to be distracted, she turned back to the vidmat.\n\n\"That confirms what I thought,\" Caren said. \"As soon as Nick returns, I want you guys to fall back. Keep watch, but no action unless you deem it necessary.\"\n\nSheila wanted to say something, but thought better of it and nodded. She tapped the wireless again to close the private session and asked Nick for an update. He took his time responding, but had nothing new to offer. He was still skirting the edge of the church grounds and hadn't heard or seen anything out of the ordinary. Frustrated, she nodded and told him to meet her back out front.\n\nHe stepped back into camera view at the opposite pillar moments later. \"Dead quiet. I can hear a prayer service going on, but not much else. I —\"\n\nHis words were cut off by the sound of a crackling snap of the air that sent the both of them scurrying flat up against their pillars, hands on their holsters. It was the sound of displaced air that came with the appearance of someone stepping out of Light, and it was a sound that made many ARU agents nervous. The camera automatically shifted focus, showing a mass of black-suited men and women appearing in front of the church doors.\n\n\"Shit,\" Sheila muttered under her breath. \"Caren, how many?\"\n\nCaren shivered and tried to find her voice. \"I...f-forty or so, I think.\"\n\nSheila cursed again. \"Shenaihu,\" she said as quietly as she could. \"No question.\" She glanced over at Nick and flashed a \"four-zero\" hand sign, and he gave a short nod in response, the color draining from his face. They had to fall back now, but they couldn't risk being seen. \"What do we do?\"\n\n\"Hold,\" she said unevenly. \"Just...be ready.\"\n\nSheila grimaced at the camera, but she understood. They were no match for these Shenaihu...their only choice was to stay out of harm's way as long as they could.\n\nOut of the forty Shenaihu standing in front of the church, one man in a dark grey suit walked up the steps and stopped at the closed front doors. He reached out and brushed his hand against the wood in very much the same manner Sheila had just moments earlier. She tapped furiously at the screen to try to get a clearer shot of the man's face, but he was not turning around. Damn it, did he know that he was on a live feed? His shape, the cut of his shoulders was familiar, as if she'd seen him just recently, over the past month or so...who was he?\n\n\"Goddess...!\" she heard from the other side of the door. \"Are...are you sure?\"\n\nShe shivered...she could feel Poe's agitation. Again, she forced herself not to focus on that at the moment. Instead she pulled back on the camera, back to the original view from the patrol car. She immediately noticed how empty the street was...no traffic, no pedestrians, nothing except for those forty Shenaihu and her two officers. With a quick tap on the vidmat, she activated all the other external cameras on the car. The closest car was at least three blocks away, and it was presently pulling onto a side street. Even the local storefronts were empty, sidewalk bins pulled in and doors closed...the locals must have sensed something was about to happen and closed up shop. Belatedly she realized that Nick had been the one to make a circuit around the area, not Sheila...he had no sensory abilities at all, and wouldn't have felt anything. Had Sheila done the rounds and not been distracted by the church, she might have noticed it as well.\n\nCaren was the only one in control.\n\n\"Stay where you are,\" she said. \"The minute — the second I tell you two to fall back, you two get the hell out of there, got it?\"\n\n\"Confirmed,\" Sheila responded.\n\nCaren adjusted the zoom again in an attempt to focus as tightly as she could on that man at the door. She knew him from somewhere...someone from the Mirades Tower, one of the executives she'd met in the past. He'd placed his palms flat against the door now, and tilted his head ever so slightly, as if to listen in. At that moment she could just about make out an angular chin and the makings of a smile, but very little else. His jaw moved, words spoken soft enough that they were not picked up by the wireless mics. His shoulders twitched up and down slightly, like he was laughing. He said a few more words, nodded again, and with great fanfare, pounded on the door with his right fist.\n\nThey did not expect to hear the sounds of heavy glass shattering. Sheila gasped and held back a scream, forcibly pulling her hand away from the pillar. \"Goddess! The Mendaihu within...\" she said as quietly and evenly as she could. \"They're gearing up for a fight.\"\n\n\"Now!\" Caren barked. \"Get back now! Go, go!\"\n\nThe two officers immediately broke into a sprint back towards the car. Caren kept the main camera focusing on the Shenaihu outside the church...apparently they had not heard their movements, or had not cared. Caren breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were safer now, but it was a temporary relief...the man still stood at that door, pounding on it every few seconds. Every hit was followed by more shattering glass.\n\n\"Caren, they're —\" Sheila started, only to have her mic cut off.\n\n\"Sheila?\" Caren called out. \"Are you still there? Nick, can you see her?\"\n\nNick tapped his mic back on. \"She's okay,\" he grunted, nearly out of breath. \"I have a line on her, she's across —\"\n\nHis mic cut off as well.\n\n\"Damn it all!\" she heard from the hallway. \"Look — just keep me posted, all right? As soon as you figure out what the hell is going on.\" The door flew open and crashed against the wall as Poe stormed in and crossed the room to his desk, ignoring the vidmat. He threw his phone down on the desk blotter and dropped heavily into his chair, shutting out the rest of the world. He buried his face behind his hands and muttered curses under his breath.\n\nTalk to me, Poe, Caren thought. She watched him with a mixture of worry and frustration, knowing he wasn't about to say anything. He did it to protect her, but in the process he only hurt himself, keeping everything locked in like that. That had to have been Matthew on the phone. The kid must know what was going on here, and damned if she was going to be left out of it. \"Give me your phone,\" she said to him.\n\nHe looked up in surprise. \"What?\"\n\n\"Just give me the damn phone!\"\n\nHe winced, but handed it to her. \"Don't you have your own?\"\n\nShe shushed him and hit the speed dial for Dispatch. Gena, the youngest of the three operators, answered. She heard multiple lines ringing in the background. \"Gena, this is Agent Caren Johnson,\" she said curtly, interrupting her before she could say anything else. \"Patch me through to Special Forces, Agent Craig Chiappara.\"\n\nGena stumbled through an answer, but connected her right away. For a brief moment, Caren felt sorry for her; whatever was going down at the church had to be happening elsewhere if the Dispatch switchboard was that busy. Thankfully, she only had to wait a few more moments and wade through Special Forces' dispatch team to get to Craig's desk phone. He was an old friend of her mother's, and she was damn lucky to have him as a personal contact at a time like this.\n\n\"Caren!\" he answered. \"I can't say I'm surprised to hear you calling right now. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Hi Craig,\" she said quickly. \"Need your help — there's something going down at St. Patrick's on Ormand Street, south central McCleever District, can you get a team up that way as soon as you can?\"\n\n\"Already on it, hon,\" he said. \"I've got a group heading that way now. You have anyone up there?\"\n\n\"Two Agents, Kennedy and Slater,\" she said. \"They're retreating as we speak.\"\n\n\"Confirmed, two agents retreating, confirmed St. Patrick's Church, Ormand. Anything else?\"\n\nShe exhaled slowly. How the hell could she say this on an unencrypted call? \"Just be careful,\" she said finally. \"Possible schism in progress.\"\n\nIt took him a few moments to respond. \"Confirmed, schism. You sure about that?\"\n\n\"Positive,\" she said. \"And keep me posted...those are my officers, and my case. Appreciate it, Craig.\" She hung up and handed the phone back to Poe.\n\nThe silence was suddenly cut by the frantic sounds of car doors opening, and Sheila and Nick spilling into the vehicle, out of breath and cursing up a storm. The secondary screen switched from the outside view back to that of the visor cam and the two agents strapping themselves in. Caren breathed a sigh of relief, but it was hollow. On the main vidmat screen, the church doors had swung inwards. Everyone held their breath at that moment as the forty bodies outside the church stood there at attention, and the man in the lead stepped forward slightly. He chose not to enter the church, only peer inside. His jaw moved as he spoke briefly to someone within. Caren zoomed the camera in even further until the image began pixelating, but she had to see who the man was and who he was talking to.\n\nShe got her answer seconds later in the form of Nehalé Usarai just inside the door, his hands held up defensively. He barked a few words at him, but the man refused to respond in kind, only nodding at him. He stepped aside, and turned away from the door. Caren finally got a look at this mysterious man and pinpointed the camera on his face, capturing and logging it as many times as she could.\n\n\"Janoss Miradesi,\" she said, shuddering. He was known publicly as part of the upper management at EdenTree, but in Caren's line of work he was also a known Shenaihu and one of the leaders of the Shenaihu movement down in South City. She'd hoped he wouldn't be involved, but this had proved otherwise. Goddess...what the hell is he doing there? Is EdenTree behind this? \"Sheila, do you see that?\" she called out.\n\n\"Affirmative,\" she said, reaching forward to start the car. \"Damn it, I didn't even read his signature — he was deliberately hiding on us.\"\n\n\"Did you catch either of them?\"\n\n\"I'm not familiar with edha Miradesi's signature,\" she said, frowning deeply. \"But I am now,\" she added in a growl.\n\n\"You two get the hell out now, you can't do anything else there,\" Caren said. \"We need the Special Forces to calm this one down. Chiappara has a team heading that way now. Check in with them, then back away from there as soon as you can, clear?\"\n\n\"On it,\" she said, and tapped the camera off. The vidmat reverted back to sleep mode, leaving Caren staring at a blank screen. She let out a slow breath, relieved and exhausted at the same time. They were safe, for now.\n\n\"Don't get too comfortable,\" Poe said, head hung low.\n\nShe hesitated, looking at him. \"Matthew?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Matthew.\" She felt the chill of the room, and the coolness in his voice. She couldn't tell whether or not it was desperation or resignation. It seemed a curious mixture of the two.\n\n\"What did he say?\" she asked, her voice softened.\n\n\"Nothing good.\" He forced himself to sit up straight, and looked straight into her eyes. She shivered, realizing what he was doing...he was looking deeper within, at her own soul. This wasn't just about the church. \"There were four other attacks in this city in the past twenty minutes,\" he said, no color to his voice. \"All Shenaihu. He's rechecking his sources for confirmation.\"\n\nOne of All... Caren paled.\n\nThey both stood in silence, unsure of what to say next. Caren wanted so much to say something, anything, but whatever words she found meant nothing now. The reality of the situation had hit her, and hit her hard. She had come to the point where she could no longer dismiss what was inside of her, yearning to come out. She could not dismiss the fact that her own awakening had coincided with Nehalé's ritual, that he might have even accelerated its growth. She looked over at Poe, bit her lip, and said nothing.\n\nCHAPTER TWELVE\n\n_Alien Relations Unit, Branden Hill HQ_\n\nCaren closed her eyes and leaned heavily against the wall of the debriefing room foyer, physically and emotionally drained. An air vent overhead blew a cool breeze onto her face and pushed away the beads of sweat from her forehead. She relished its calming, distractive effect on her nerves, letting her forget her surroundings for the moment. She'd never liked the Questioning part of her job—interrogating the suspect or being interrogated for a case herself, the process was absolute hell for everyone involved.\n\nGoddess...how did I get to this point?\n\nShe cursed quietly at the predicament she now faced. If she had been any more aggravated by the attack at St. Patrick's Cathedral, it would most likely have been directed at her parents instead of at the Shenaihu. She knew that to be a pointless gesture, as she could not will herself to do so. Through her blood she would always be irrevocably tied to battles against the Shenaihu. The innate knowledge of the Mendaihu soul welled within her, waiting to be brought out. To curse her parents' mission was a pointless gesture; to curse her parents' heritage was to curse at her own soul.\n\nMendaihu sehndayen-ne, she thought. Teachers of the faith. Priests in their own right. Aram and Celine were, among other things, dedicated and ordained teachers of the Mendaihu faith in the Universal One. The dedication to their faith and the Bridgetown community gave her a sense of fierce pride. Pride, which the Mendaihu never relied on.\n\nShe smirked, remembering her father's words regarding that deadly sin. Pride is all well and good, Karinna, but the minute you rely on it, you're dead. Faith is the real energy; pride is just the sugarcoating.\n\nTo hell with this frustration, she was damn proud of her parents! They had saved many a soul while serving on the Alien Relations Unit, just as she had. They had taught her, and many others, the way of the Mendaihu, and how to harness and utilize the powers in the energies of the universe. But was she honestly Mendaihu? Even with the training and her bloodright, was she even worthy of the name? Being Mendaihu was a tone of being she felt she had to earn rather than inherit, and she was a hell of a long way from reaching that goal. Today's events were proof of that: she had not been prepared at all for any of it. But who could have been?\n\nWhat did you do to us, Nehalé?\n\nIf she were any other person in this city, she would be terrified of these Shenaihu right now. This was not an army, or some ragtag group of self-professed revolutionaries, bent on political overthrow. This was not some jacker gang like Vigil, who sought repentance by way of anarchy and disruption within the corporate system. And this was not a religious crusade. Far, far from it. It was not a display of revolutionary zealotry.\n\nLike the Mendaihu, the Shenaihu were a spiritual force transcending political boundaries. In many ways they were very much like the Mendaihu, and not just in spiritual presence. Their reality was beyond the normal limits of human and Meraladian life. They could look through the mind of an innocent, straight into the very soul within. They craved inner meaning, far past the tangible possessions and short-term stimulation of the modern worlds. Like the Mendaihu, as with so many other spiritual followers, the Shenaihu passion to achieve their spiritual goal was unyielding: redemption within the Universes, to retain the knowledge they once had as eternal souls in the ether and lost upon becoming real in this universe.\n\nSo alike, yet so utterly, unchangeably different.\n\nShe knew she should be terrified of them, knowing what they could do. They'd caused death and chaos during the last Embodiment. And they had killed her parents five years ago, leaving her an emotional and spiritual wreck. And today, they had killed recently awakened Mendaihu at the church and who knew how many other places. Forcibly taken spirits from their bodies and ended their physical lives, without remorse. And it was all in response to Nehalé Usarai's ritual.\n\nBut she wasn't scared of the Shenaihu.\n\nIn fact, she understood them all too well, and that terrified her. Like Poe, she was a seasoned profiler, and it was second nature to learn how to think like the other, no matter who they were. She needed to release this fear, before it was too late. She needed to tell someone what she understood about the Shenaihu. She felt it strongly, wordlessly, within her soul, begging to come out. She had tried a number of times with Poe without success, though she blamed herself for her inability to find the right words. She did not get much farther with Farraway. She hadn't had the time or place to sit down with Sheila, her ex-partner and once close confidant, but the temptation grew stronger daily since the Nehalé's ritual.\n\nInside the debriefing room, she could hear the clamor of Sheila's voice filling the room. That girl was never one to go quietly when asked, and had fought against Questioning all the way. For perhaps the fourth time, she described the visit to Nehalé Usarai's apartment and what she had sensed there; the call to the cathedral and what she had witnessed and sensed; the aftermath and her own personal reactions. Inspector Farraway, cold and distant as usual, listened without interruption.\n\nNext door, Poe was taking Nick through a less intense line of repeated questioning. Caren felt sorry for him...for both men, actually. Nick had joined this ragtag department of oddities and misfits nearly two years ago — he had requested a transfer from South City Metro Police, and in that span of time, the most he'd ever seen was a small riot caused by neo-antialienists in the Waterfront District. If Nick walked after what he'd seen, Caren would not stop him.\n\nSheila finished first, exiting the room and cursing under her breath. She paused in the doorway, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head, frustrated and angry, yet accepting the interview with grudging acceptance. Her sensing abilities had been maxed out twice in the same afternoon, and the exhaustion showed on her face and body. Lifting her eyes, she saw Caren and offered a weak smile. Farraway abruptly cut between them with barely an acknowledgement, and walked away silently towards the back stairway. No doubt he was just as pissed off.\n\n\"Hey,\" Sheila said, her voice soft and weak. She stood close, too close. Caren hadn't expected the proximity and shifted.\n\n\"Uh...hey,\" she said nervously. \"You okay?\"\n\nSheila gave her a noncommittal shrug. Her energy had peaked some time ago, and she was not taking the crash too well. She wavered, but only slightly, as she stood. She touched Caren on the shoulder and squeezed. \"Yeah,\" she breathed. \"I'm cool. Thanks for being there.\" She moved forward and embraced her. \"You saved me yet again.\"\n\nYet again. Goddess, she'd forgotten about this feeling, this nervousness. Years ago, before they were both ARU agents. Caren awkwardly circled her arms around her, countless memories flooding back, the emotions behind them struggling to escape. She had forgotten the sensation, the closeness that she had felt with Sheila. She had never been afraid of this unconditional love she had for those closest to her, and especially those she worked with and had cared about for close to ten years...yet something was missing now. A dark chasm, partly due to the loss of her parents and partly her self-imposed distance, had opened between herself and nearly everyone she knew. Sheila, who had once been her longest and closest friend, now seemed a dreamlike oasis of serenity she could not permit herself to approach, only to view from afar.\n\nShe was almost unaware that Sheila had been crying into her shoulder.\n\n\"Shhh....hey,\" she whispered into her hair. Words she had meant to keep inside slipped out: \"Hey, kiddo. You're still my sehnadha. Don't go losing it on me.\"\n\nA sob that could have been a laugh was her response. Caren drew her in, caressing her protectively. Goddess, how I miss this... They embraced, longer and closer, this time without the wall of distance. Sheila pulled away first, but only to look at her straight on. She half-hid a devilish grin behind the palm that wiped away her tears.\n\n\"...sehnadha, huh?\" she laughed. \"Haven't heard you call me that in a long time.\"\n\nCaren found herself blushing, but couldn't do anything to cover it. They were still close friends, even after a five-year absence of emotion. She admitted to herself that she did miss her, terribly.\n\n\"My shadhisi,\" Sheila whispered, winking at her.\n\nCaren couldn't help but laugh, a secret joke between them. She did miss her, more than she could ever possibly show her, but those emotions had been from another time, another place entirely. The most she could do now was remain loyal and caring, and Sheila had accepted that. She drew her into another embrace. \"Hey,\" she whispered into her ear. \"I'm just glad you're alive, girl.\"\n\n\"Me too, kiddo.\" She pushed her out of the foyer and into the main hallway. \"Come on, I'm starving. Let's get something to eat.\"\n\n\"Fine time to think about eating,\" Caren teased. \"We'd better use the cafeteria...it looks like Farraway is fixing to haul us into another team meeting.\"\n\n\"Wouldn't surprise me,\" she said. \"He'd just about had enough Telling for one day, by the looks of things.\"\n\nCaren sensed there were unspoken words, and stopped her in the middle of the hallway. \"What did Farraway ask you?\"\n\n\"Nothing...\" she shrugged. \"Nothing important, really. Just wondering if...\"\n\nCaren nodded. \"...wondering if you and Nick were comfortable with this case, right?\"\n\nSheila did not look surprised at all. \"Yeah. That's the gist of it. He was so hard-assed about it at first, at least with Nick and me...now he's all over us, making sure we're safe and sound. Almost sounds as if he's covering his own butt.\"\n\nCaren shook her head quickly. \"If he can ask about me and mention my parents all in one go, he's _definitely_ not hiding anything. Protecting us, maybe, but hiding for his own safety?\" She shook her head again, pushing off towards the cafeteria again. \"Not a chance.\"\n\nSheila wasted no time picking up the cue. \"So what would he be protecting us from, if he were in fact doing so?\"\n\n\"I wish I knew,\" she lied.\n\n*\n\nPoe stared into his tilted coffee mug, absently watching the remaining liquid circle around the bottom, hardly paying attention to the last few things Nick had said. Procedure had called for multiple tellings of the tale, a different person listening, sensing, and asking questions each time. In an ongoing case with intense involvement, such as the one they now found themselves in, the Questioning was mandatory. Caren had listened in first, then Farraway, then the two of them with Poe as well. This fourth time was enough for anyone to suffer through without needing a soulhealer afterwards. He'd seen the beginning of the attack via the squad car cameras, and he'd seen the bloody aftermath courtesy of the Special Forces footage. He'd also heard Sheila's version twice already. He doubted there was much else that Nick or Sheila could have missed, given the situation.\n\n\"Are we almost done?\" Nick muttered from behind the hand that rubbed at his eyes. \"I must have told you and the Chief my story damn near enough times. Goddess...it doesn't even make sense to me anymore.\"\n\nA brief grin lifted Poe's face. \"Yeah, we're about done.\" He put down the coffee mug and reached his arms above his head, weary muscles welcoming the stretch. He nodded at Nick's mug. \"You need a refill?\"\n\n\"I'm good,\" Nick said quickly, itching to leave.\n\n\"Okay.\" Poe flipped his notebook closed and leaned back in his chair. \"Do you have anything you want to add? Comments? Questions?\"\n\nNick delayed his answer, tapping at the table with his fingers. \"I'm sure I'm not the only one with a theory here,\" he said.\n\n\"The Eighth and now the Ninth?\" Poe had been expecting this from him; he was actually surprised it took so long for him to bring it up.\n\nNick winced. \"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Poe exhaled long and slow. How many times had he described that spiritual war? How many times would he have to describe it again to another new recruit? And how many times would the childhood memories of those days haunt him? He exhaled again and leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped tightly in front of him on the desk. In a fit of frustration, and much to Nick's surprise, Poe reached over and shut off the Questioning recorders, monitors, data crystals and all. This was information the ARU already knew, or at least was supposed to know in more detail than anyone else...yet he never felt safe explaining that fateful month while surrounded by recording equipment. Since Nick had asked, however, he wasn't going to hold back. He was certainly old enough to remember the previous one, but Poe had a feeling he'd never experienced it personally, not like he and Caren had.\n\nThis was going to be tough.\n\n\"Speaking of the One...\" he started again. \"First off, let me dispel any rumors that are surfacing. There's no way we're facing another event of the same magnitude as the last Embodiment, absolutely _no_ way. That war lasted just over six weeks, November spilling into December, but it was a perfect shitstorm that nearly tore the city apart. A lot of identity theft by jackers. Gang violence in McCleever and Waterfront, a hell of a lot worse than it's ever been. The economy was tanking before it all happened, and the war made it even worse. A lot of scared people...and kids...Goddess, a _lot_ of kids. It wasn't pretty. No one was sure whether or not they were being spied upon by one side or the other, including myself.\n\n\"The methodology behind it is what got me into studying crime investigation. There are very few of us profilers who have actually sat down and tried to see it from both sides. I know of two. One ended up writing a book about it that no one dared to publish for a decade and a half. The other man committed suicide.\"\n\n\"What about you?\" Nick asked.\n\n\"That's a good question,\" he said. \"About ten years ago...I started getting interested in the history of the Embodiments. I remembered it as a kid, I must have been eight at the time — and it _changed_ me. The fact that we had so-called 'psionic warriors' on Earth made absolutely no sense at all to us humans at first. Hell, we were only the what — fourth or so generation that had the Meraladians in their lives? But when this happened...when we had people _dying_ for no apparent reason other than spiritual persecution...it made no sense at all to me. I was pissed more than I was afraid, stupid as I was back then, but I wanted to do something about it. So about ten years ago I began studying on my off hours. Been doing it ever since.\"\n\nHe took his pause in the conversation to stand up, stretch and walk to the cooler to fill his mug. He downed two full cups of cold water and exhaled deeply, shaking off the tension. He glanced over at Nick, who looked as if he was trying to form some thoughts in his head and having difficulty with it. He'd get it sooner or later. The kid was smart enough.\n\n\"So anyway,\" he continued. \"Here we are. Twenty-five years later. We get five timed attacks, played out by the nuhm'ndah and orchestrated by the Shenaihu. All this as a violent response to what may be the largest awakening ritual ever performed on this good Earth. Shades of the Eighth Embodiment? Possibly...but it's not the same. That event was triggered by nothing other than a mad craving for power that spiraled out of control. It was a horrific war that shouldn't have happened. This time out? Well...I'm still not sure. These attacks...the ritual...this is something altogether different.\"\n\n\"How can you tell?\" Nick frowned.\n\n\"Apples and oranges, my friend,\" he smiled wearily. \"These recent events are just the prelude to something bigger. The Ninth Embodiment is definitely here.\"\n\nNick's eyes widened. He might not be a follower, but he certainly knew what the return of a messiah meant in the grander scheme of things. \"You're kidding.\"\n\n\"I can't prove it otherwise.\"\n\nHe was interrupted by a quick rapping at the door, followed by Caren popping her head in. All humor had left her quite some time ago.\n\n\"Hey,\" she said. \"Sorry to interrupt. Farraway wants all of us up in the counseling office.\"\n\nPoe groaned. \"Not another Questioning.\"\n\nCaren shook her head. \"Kai and Ashan arrived and they want to see us. All four of us.\"\n\nHe glanced over at Nick before saying anything. He had clasped his hands over his head and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. It could have been frustration, but more than likely it was just plain exhaustion. \"Don't look at me, Alec,\" he said, half-smiling. \"I got me into this, not you.\"\n\nPoe smirked at his brashness and turned to Caren. \"We'll be up in fifteen.\" She nodded and closed the door again. \"Right,\" he said, slapping his palms against the table, the Questioning process finally complete. \"I'm up for another nicotine break. Care to join me?\"\n\nNick nodded. \"Anywhere's better than here.\"\n\nNick tapped the security code and slid open the glass doors to the seventh floor patio, and was welcomed by a rush of cool early autumn wind. He exhaled loudly. \"Yeah...that's much better.\" He stepped to the railing and exhaled again, tension pouring out of him. \"I don't know how you can do it, Poe. Those interrogation rooms are just plain fucking hell.\"\n\nPoe cupped his hand and lit a cigarette. \"Just like anything else, Nick. You do it long enough it becomes just another part of the job.\" Reacting to Nick's frown, he appended his words as he handed him the pack. \"Trust me, kid. Things are too chufyo around here to ever get dull. Not a day goes by I don't find myself baffled by Meraladian logic.\"\n\n\"They're not very easy to pin down, are they?\" Nick said, lighting his own cigarette.\n\nPoe joined him at the railing. \"It's not so much about 'pinning them down' as it is in understanding their flow. You gotta think like them in order to know what they're going on about. How this world manages to understand them at all is a bleeding miracle.\"\n\n\"I see,\" Nick said, and began waving his hands as he spoke. \"That's where the Spirit comes in. They converse more in Spirit than they do in this reality.\"\n\nPoe smirked. This kid's as green as the Wilderlands.\n\n\"Err...close, but not quite. It's not so much conversing as sensing. Take the weather, for instance. By just picking up what you see and feel, what would you say it's going to do, best guess?\"\n\nNick frowned for a second before answering. \"Well, it's cloudy but not dark...kind of windy, coming from the south, a little stronger than usual, even for us up on the seventh floor. Best guess — and no, I didn't catch the forecast today — I'd say that it might rain later on tonight. Why do you ask?\"\n\nPoe flicked ash over the railing. \"That's about normal for human sensing. We pretty much just file it under evolutionary instinct and sensitivity, with a bit of short-term past experience. Now, Meraladians? About ten times as strong. They would have answered my question by stating that the rain will probably go inland and miss the city entirely, and if the city gets it, it'll probably be a light drizzle lasting about a half hour, if anything. Their sensing includes basic emotional reactions in others through energy waves. A man can have a stone face and an aloof attitude, but a Meraladian can tell how he's feeling without hearing a word. Despite our relations, their own evolution is quite a few millennia older than ours.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" he said. \"And the Mendaihu?\"\n\nPoe thought back to his meeting up at the Crest and felt the remnants of his experience beyond the lifted Veil. It swirled in the back of his mind, just out of the sharp focus of his consciousness, leaving only the blurred shape of the Sprawl. The emotional image, the intensity of what he'd seen, however, had imprinted itself clearly across his spirit, something he would never forget.\n\n\"The Mendaihu...\" he trailed off, looking east. The Mirades Tower rose majestically in the distance. He shivered, a sudden unease washing over him. \"I really couldn't tell you, Nick, but my best approximation would be at least fifty times as strong as ours. At least. Probably more. And that's for all Mendaihu, both human and Meraladian.\"\n\nNick whistled. \"Damn.\"\n\nPoe knew the inevitable question lay unspoken in Nick's mind: what about the Shenaihu? It was assumed their sensing abilities must be in the same range as the Mendaihu. How else could everything that happened today make sense otherwise? His mind replayed the image of the floor of the church, covered in blood and glass, and dozens of Mendaihu lying either dead or severely injured in between the overturned pews. Special Forces had gone in after it was all over and captured it all on digital. Poe had watched as much footage as he could take, but he could not yet will himself to see that carnage from the Shenaihu point of view. It was just too visceral.\n\n\"Nick —\" Poe began.\n\n\"Agent Poe,\" the young officer interrupted. He pushed himself off the railing and stood straight at attention towards him. \"Listen, I know I'm the brat here. You, Agents Johnson and Kennedy are all older than me, with a lot more experience not only on the ARU, but also around the Sprawl in general. I'm proud to be working with the three of you.\"\n\nPoe winced. \"Nick, I —\"\n\n\"Let me finish, please. I need to say this. I'm sure it's been on your mind as well. Now, in spite of me being new here, regardless of the fact that I've worked with you all for close to two years now, I'm aware that I may not know nearly as much about the Mendaihu...and I know I don't have any of the special abilities the three of you have. But that doesn't stop me. I covered most of South City for four years before I came here. Being everything from a glorified bodyguard for some CEO to a security mediator between five different Foundation worlds for a major business deal, there's one thing I understand more than anything else. And that's fear.\"\n\nHe flicked ash from his cigarette and looked away. \"I know how it feels, Poe. Do you know what it's like to understand that the peace agreements outlined in the CNF Mahaye-Sirius Treaty treads a very thin line? Any stupid moves and transuniversal commerce goes to shit? Or that the death, however accidental, of a major player in South City can mean irreparable damages both in his or her company and the economy in general? Trust me, Poe. I know fear well.\n\n\"I figured either Caren or yourself would pussyfoot around these attacks when I'm around, but I'll tell you right now that I do not plan to step down. So don't hold back, because it wouldn't be fair to any of us.\"\n\nPoe stared at him in blank surprise. \"I...uh...okay,\" he stammered, unsure how to react to that. \"Really,\" he started again. \"I'm glad you're on board.\"\n\nNick nodded, stubbing the cigarette out in an ashtray on a nearby table. He glanced at his watch and then smiled at Poe, an oddly serene expression on his face. \"About that time,\" he said.\n\nPoe got the door and let them back in. On the way down to the Counseling office, he had to question himself: who had the better grasp on the situation here?\n\n*\n\nKai quietly folded her hands on the table and observed the others surrounding her, throwing out a single strand of sensing at them to judge their levels of agitation. Chief Inspector Farraway stood at the opposite end of the table, head down and arms crossed tightly, deep in thought. He was obviously bothered by the church incident considering the chaotic emotions swirling through his head and heart...but that was as far as she could go. His thoughts were private and elusive, and she could focus no further. His agitated energy danced wildly about his body, directionless but kept very close to the skin. She knew enough to keep a respectable distance when sensing him; any closer and her spirit presence would be felt. Humans did not like such an intrusion.\n\nShe also felt intense emotions from the fiery Sheila, whose brightly shimmering aura seemed more a normal occurrence than an excited state. She had been directly involved in the incident at the church on Ormand Street along with Nick, and so had draped a cloak of protection over herself and those immediately surrounding her. The gesture was purely instinctual, something she hadn't even thought about doing; she just threw it out there subconsciously. They had been blessed with a true Protector on this team.\n\nSheila stood directly behind the woman who must be Caren; she sat quietly and unassumingly halfway down the table, not saying a word or showing a shred of emotion. Her spirit was so wound tight, so restrained that she found it worrisome; it was neither normal nor healthy. By being her Protector, Sheila had become a channel for Caren's energy, instinctively siphoning out the fear and pain, and replacing it with a pure and unconditional love. They were an interesting pair, not quite sehnadha and not quite shadhisi, but something in between. Kai could sense their intensely strong bond, twin souls entwined. Caren's spirit was scarred and raw, barely a scrape emanating past those within the room. It made Kai want to read her spirit signature even more, test it, read it somehow, yet the woman kept it so guarded even Ashan would have been unable to crack the surface. She lingered on the two a little longer before moving on, hoping she would have that chance soon.\n\nShe felt Nick's odd signature before he even entered the room. It was unmistakably human, yet behaved as if Meraladian. He was completely aware of his surroundings, and immediately understood the actions and emotions of those around him...yet, as she had read from his file, he lacked any latent psionic ability. Unless his sensing abilities were dormant, his job as a profiler relied solely on logic and intellect. He took the chair two seats away from Caren and got himself settled, ready for whatever was about to unfold.\n\nAlec Poe followed close behind and sat down next to Caren, unassuming and...\n\nCold...!\n\nKai frowned at him without meaning to. She immediately lifted a hand to her mouth to keep herself from saying anything, or thinking anything for that matter, and blushed, wondering what had caused this sudden and unexpected reaction. It was not the same bitterness of nearby Shenaihu, but the unnerving coldness of someone moving in too close and too quick before she could lift up her own instinctual shield. That was the spirit signature of someone who knew the geography of her soul inside and out, coming and going whenever they pleased. She had not felt this up at the Crest earlier this morning, nor had Ashan, or he would have surely mentioned it. She had never felt anything like this in her life, and she did not know how to react. Was he intruding? Or was he...?\n\nKai, Ashan whispered within. Is something wrong? She turned to her brother. He responded by pursing his lips and absently straightened the stack of files in front of him, avoiding eye contact.\n\nUh...no, she responded. Just an odd sense reading is all.\n\nAlec Poe?\n\nShe gave him a quick nod. Ashan did not answer. Everyone was in the room, and they were waiting for the meeting to start. She quickly composed herself and let it go for now.\n\n\"Thank you for coming,\" she said, hoping her voice hadn't just wavered. The sensitives in this room did not appear to notice any shift in her own energy signature, much to her relief. She glanced again at Ashan, who motioned for her to continue.\n\n\"Ashan and I are aware of the attacks today. Our prayers go out to the victims...I only wish we could do more, but CNF guidelines restrict us. Since the attacks, we have not been permitted inside the church or its surroundings; nor have we gotten much information about the four other attack points. I fear this may be to our disadvantage in the future, but it is something we can work around. Chief Inspector, do you concur?\"\n\n\"Yes, emha,\" he said, and cleared his throat as he picked up a vidmat from the table and started reading. \"This is the preliminary data I received from Chiappara and the Special Forces team. The four remaining attack points are as follows: the corner of North Main Street and Pendergast Boulevard in Glover Court, just across from the Public Data Library: straight north of the Tower. The outdoor market at Sculler's Crossing in the Waterfront District: east of St. Patrick's, and the hardest hit. Lexington Square in South City, one of the busiest intersections in Bridgetown. Last is right down the street: the corner of Ormand and West Krieger in Fraserville. Number of injuries and losses is inconclusive at this time, although we do have an ongoing shortlist of them here.\"\n\n\"Vidmat on,\" Ashan said. A section of the wall behind him blinked to life. \"Live satellite image, Bridgetown Central. Highlight points of today's attacks.\" The vidmat responded with a blurred pan and zoom until Mirades Tower reached out towards them, dead center in the image. \"Map all geometric alignments of all highlighted points and include the initial reach of edha Usarai's awakening ritual.\" The vidmat screen came alive with thin strands crawling across the satellite picture, dissecting and circling the city. The room grew cold and quiet as the agents stared wide-eyed at the map. The points of attack had been laid out in a perfect pentagon, with the Tower dead center.\n\nThe first blast of Nehalé Usarai's ritual was in perfect alignment.\n\n\"It's a hrrah-sehdhyn,\" Alec said, voice barely audible. \"The five-point defensive response.\"\n\nFarraway nodded. \"Considering the view, the area around the Tower received less damage than we thought during the psychic blast from the Awakening ritual. The casualty numbers from the ritual's shockwave are amazingly low. We're looking at a death toll of under ten.\"\n\nCaren gaped at him. \"Only ten?\"\n\nAn unexpected burst of energy emanated from her, her first show of emotion and aura since they entered the room, and Kai flinched without meaning to. It was harmless, but it was frighteningly strong. Mendaihu Elder strong. She forced herself not to look at Ashan, fearing the others would notice.\n\n\"The fact that the shockwave was from an elemental casting and not incendiary explosives is a starter, Caren,\" Farraway continued. \"The most direct damage edha Usarai's ritual did was rattle the foundations of the surrounding buildings. Physically, there was little to no fallout. The ten deaths caused by his ritual were not directly involved, and were of natural causes: seven heart attacks and three brain aneurysms. To put it bluntly...they were in poor physical health and couldn't handle the strain.\"\n\nCaren shook her head. \"But...the reaction? Psychologically?\"\n\n\"We're still working on that,\" he said with a touch of irritation. \"No one wants to talk about it, that's the problem. Most felt no change at all, other than frayed nerves. The reaction gets weaker as we spread out from the Tower. We haven't moved farther out than the initial two-mile cloud radius yet.\"\n\nKai felt Caren's energy level jump and ascend, just as Sheila stepped away from her and leaned against the wall. A fierce wave of love — not towards Sheila, or even through her for that matter — burst forth in its threadlike protective and focused form and shot northwards, towards someone obviously not in the immediate area. Kai felt the wave as a short jolt of electricity through her own body, and she couldn't help but stare at Caren now. This energy radiated out of her, more luminous than Sheila's aura, pure and dedicated. This protective love must have been directed at someone extremely close to her in heart and in mind.\n\nAnother Protector, she thought. Stronger than Sheila...\n\n\"That doesn't explain...\" Caren started, then changed course. \"Last I knew, elemental castings do the same amount of damage, psychologically, as an incendiary device with the same reaction.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Ashan said. \"But because of the preparation that goes into the ritual, it also gives sensitives a heads-up well enough in advance. That would explain the high number of witnesses sensing edha Usarai well before the blast. They knew to get out of harm's way before it happened.\"\n\n\"Still...\" Caren frowned. \"Under ten?\"\n\nFarraway took Kai's folder and slid it in her direction. \"Would you like to see the report?\"\n\nShe looked at him icily and pushed it back. \"No thanks. I'll take your word for it. So what about today?\"\n\nFarraway started to speak, but Ashan cut him off. \"To confirm your thoughts, Alec, yes, it is a hrrah-sehdhyn...the Shenaihu have considered edha Usarai's ritual a major threat and have responded five-fold. This was their own protective response, whether we want to dismiss this or not. There has not been any word from any Shenaihu spokespersons, but it seems for now they are not going to move further unless edha Usarai makes one himself.\"\n\nAlec nodded but remained silent, frowning deeply. Kai shivered, still feeling the strange energy from him, though she did not recoil. She felt the severe focus he held on the subject and the energies of those around him, though he seemed unaware of his own action. His eyes never completely fell on anyone, only moving from one person to the other.\n\n\"About this five-point response...\" he said. \"According to my studies, the hrrah-sehdhyn is used most commonly as a defensive move, keeping the enemy stuck in one place. Am I to assume that the Shenaihu think of the Awakening ritual as an offensive on the Mendaihu's part, even if the prevailing theory is that edha Usarai himself acted defensively? It's enough to say that the response was symbolic enough to put the Tower into some sort of warding or defensive barrier, but unless we have proof that the Shenaihu acted first, I'd say this whole debacle puts the Mendaihu in an extremely bad light.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" Kai said. \"That is why we need to bring Nehalé Usarai into custody. It certainly looks as though he holds knowledge of a Shenaihu offensive. If that is so, then the ritual was his way of leveling the odds. Unfortunately, that would put us in a delicate situation. The Mendaihu do not want to enter into a...\" she stumbled, hiding some words and searching for others. \"...a religious war with the Shenaihu.\"\n\n\"That's it, though, isn't it?\" Poe said coldly. \"That's what this is turning into. The Shenaihu and the Mendaihu have always been in this little argument, haven't they? Dominance over whatever it is they fight against, be it holy land, the next messiah, or the One of All Sacred.\"\n\nKai paled. \"I...\"\n\n\"See it from our perspective, Agent Poe,\" Ashan interjected, his eyes piercing. \"As Gharné, you only see our wars as spectators. See it as Mendaihu or as Shenaihu, the choice is yours. But until you do, you cannot understand--\"\n\nPoe slammed a fist on the table and cursed at him. \"Why the hell do you think we're asking you what to do here, Ashan? I don't have the slightest frigging clue what you guys go through! I could talk spirit reading until I'm blue in the face, but that doesn't bring me nearer to enlightenment, does it? I have to be Mendaihu or Shenaihu in order to understand it, like you said. But we're not. We haven't been awakened — at least I know I haven't.\"\n\nKai felt a cold sting from Caren make its direction towards Poe.\n\nCaren...? Kai stared at her, suddenly understanding her distance and discomfort. The soul within, though dormant, screamed in its confinement. She could indeed be Mendaihu, if she would only permit herself to awaken. Why had she not...? She started to speak, when Caren interjected.\n\n\"He has a point,\" she said. Kai felt the forced calm in Caren's voice, a delicate timbre meant to soothe its listeners while putting a point across to them — a distinctively Mendaihu trait. \"But let me clear it up. As special agents for the Alien Relations Unit of the BMPD, it's our task to keep things like the church attack from happening, and if it happens, we're there to investigate it. We're glorified detectives, Ashan, I'll admit to that. But once you bring spirituality into it, it becomes a Mendaihu issue. And not all of us have that gift. And those who might, don't exactly know how to use it.\" Pausing, she let out a breath that sounded nearly like a laugh. Kai noticed the change — the intensely guarded aura around her began to relax and slowly resurface. A second passed and it faded slightly. She had let down that wall, at least for the time being, and much to Kai's relief.\n\n\"What we're trying to say is that we need spiritual guidance if we're to catch Nehalé Usarai. If what we've found so far is legitimate, the only way we'll find him is for the two of you to sense him out.\"\n\nKai let out a quick laugh. \"You make us out to be bloodhounds,\" she said. Caren smiled warmly at her in response. There it was — Caren was willing to open up to her, however briefly. Kai seized the opportunity and sent out a thread of energy. It landed on Caren's skin, a whisper of a breeze, but just enough for them to connect. In the space of that moment she could completely sense her, and she understood the agent's anxiety...\n\nShe is hanging by a blade of grass, she thought towards Ashan. A burdened soul.\n\n\"Thank you for the clarification,\" Ashan said to Caren, then turned to Alec. \"Nyhnd'aladh, Agent Poe. I apologize for my assumptions.\"\n\nKai glanced at Alec and felt that odd, cold closeness again. She shuddered and backed her senses away, masking her discomfort with an apologetic smile.\n\n\"I do apologize myself,\" Poe said, and let out a long breath, two of them. \"I'm afraid I haven't worked this closely with Mendaihu adepts for some time now, so I'm a bit out of practice.\"\n\n\"I've got a rhetorical question,\" Nick said, and leaned forward, hands clasped together and steepled index fingers pressed up against his lips. His eyes focused hard on the table in front of him. He had not said a thing during the entire meeting, though Kai could sense his thought processes moving at breakneck speed. There was something to his aura, an intense focus — similar, but different than Alec's in its intent — wrapped within that chaotic energy. Something familiar...\n\n\"Say we get Nehalé on our side of the investigation,\" he said. \"Obviously, that makes us part of this...this war, for lack of a better term. What are our chances when it comes time to face the nuhm'ndah? Judging from what I saw today...\" he grimaced, intertwined waves of disgust and horror seeping out of his aura, and looked at Kai. \"...I'd say we're in deep shit where we stand now. I know what I saw, emha. They didn't think twice about who they were aiming for, there at the church. Nehalé might have been the intended target, but they weren't too worried about collateral damage.\"\n\nSheila had moved closer to her partner, and now stood above him, leaning on the back of his chair. \"If they were after Nehalé, they would have gotten to him directly, and spared all the others, even if there was a shield keeping him safe,\" she said. \"The Shenaihu may be polar opposites of the Mendaihu, but they're not ruthless killers, either. It doesn't make sense.\"\n\n\"No, it doesn't,\" he said, looking over his shoulder, up at her. \"That's what bothers me. Even more so that this hrrah-sehdhyn seems to be aiming for the Tower. Was the church just conveniently one of the focus points, or was it planned? All five are in public places, even in Fraserville. Realistically, these points could have been anywhere. Residential neighborhoods, business districts, the Wilderlands, even in the river.\"\n\n\"Why the Tower, anyway?\" Poe asked. \"It couldn't be political. Although I'm sure Governor Rieflin's going to push it that way eventually.\"\n\nKai paused nervously. There was no easy answer to that, at least not one that would reveal what she and her brother had witnessed up on the Crest. They doubted any of these agents would understand.\n\nNick, thankfully, jumped back into the conversation. \"Well, that wasn't exactly my question,\" he said. \"What I meant to ask...and neither of you are required to answer if you don't think it prudent...\" He stumbled again, afraid of his own words. \"What...would happen if this was a war between the nuhm'ndah and the human race, never mind Meraladians, or even the Mendaihu? What if it's an attack against us? Like last time?\"\n\n\"Against...\" Kai shivered and stopped short. She turned to Ashan.\n\nWhat do we tell them?\n\nAshan lifted his head and hummed as he thought. The truth, Kai. We tell them the truth. He faced her without emotion, but with the eyes of an older spirit who had suffered much. It is theirs, they deserve as much.\n\nShe understood, and faced the people in the room. \"Then...\" she paused, hugging herself from the sudden chill in the room. \"Then the Awakening truly begins, on a terrestrial scale.\"\n\nNick visibly paled. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His aura sparked and shivered around him, his nervous energy barely contained. He glanced to his side, at Alec and Caren, then to Farraway. Kai looked at them as well; they were all equally terrified of such a possibility, yet chose not to show it. Only Nick seemed to be totally open with his emotions. He cleared his throat and relaxed his shoulders, and the most amazing thing happened: the electricity around him faded to a mere pulse, seconds after his panic attack. Kai was amazed by the speed of his return to relaxation point. She had never seen an unawakened Gharné so in control of his spirit! He continued as the color returned to his face, as if nothing had happened.\n\n\"An awakening of that magnitude...that would be a last line of defense, wouldn't it?\" he continued. \"And in the grander social scheme of things, that can't happen without a severe backlash, can it? Politics and Federation policies aside, this could spiral completely out of control.\"\n\n\"You're getting a bit paranoid, Nick,\" Alec said, leaning towards him. \"We can't rule out the possibility, but we can't make it the only one either.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" Farraway said. \"A global awakening is a last option, and I'm sure Nehalé Usarai understands that as well. We have a bead on him now, and there's a high possibility he'll show up again. More than likely at Moulding Warehouse, and we have eyes everywhere around that place. So until then, I want all of you to forget about Nehalé Usarai for the time being — we have enough agents on the lookout for him now. Instead, I need all of you to do some recon work. Kai, Ashan, I need the two of you to begin listening to the city. Concentrate on the Waterfront District, but be aware of anything else that might surface elsewhere.\"\n\n\"Consider it done, sir,\" Ashan said.\n\n\"Sheila, you and Nick did exceptional work at the church. I can only apologize for having put you through that, and the debriefing sessions afterwards. I suggest the both of you go home and get some rest...you've both seen enough for one day. Alec, Caren, I'd like you to continue with your research on the man. Call Kindeiya at KJS again if you must, though I'm sure we've got enough out of him already. The more contacts you find on him, the easier it is for us to find any connections between Nehalé and the growing number of Devotees of the One already at Moulding.\"\n\n\"Of course, sir,\" Caren said.\n\nHe nodded. \"Thank you. Now...I want to tell you, this global awakening is something real. There is a chance that the nuhm'ndah are also pushing to awaken the One of All Sacred, just as edha Usarai is. Alec, Caren, I remember we talked about this...and it hasn't left my mind. I have to keep all options open. It's a possibility. All I ask is that we try to keep it from being an inevitability.\"\n\nCHAPTER THIRTEEN\n\n_Poe – Caren – Denni_\n\nPoe leaned against the back of the one chair in his kitchen that didn't have paperwork or books covering the seat, and lit up a cigarette to celebrate the end of a long and stressful day. A warm breeze lifted up from the street through the row of open windows and filled the room with the familiar scents of Ormand Street life. The dusty-sweet aroma of fresh bread from the bakery down the street where he'd get free loaves every time he stopped in. The tangy spice of fried noodles and vegetables from Ataru's Ichiban just around the corner. The ozone of the city itself. The smells of the neighborhood that he'd known since he was a kid. The sounds were the same, evoking memories of his childhood growing up in this apartment. The chatter of multiple conversations on the street below. The constant dreamlike flow of traffic. The rumble of a Nullport shuttle takeoff and flyover. The soft shudder of the BMPD helicopters sweeping the area every so often.\n\nLong day, he mused, and took a drag from his cigarette. It was days like these, the particularly arduous work shifts that had no end or uplift in sight, where he curiously managed to feel the most relaxed as he reached the finish line. He brought his job home with him, there was no way around that. He would solve cases in his sleep if he could. Once he came through the front door and went through his ritual of the post-dinner cigarette in his oversized kitchen, the thoughts stayed with him, but the nervous energy and bad karma that came with the job tended to disappear.\n\nToday's events, however, would not go away without a fight.\n\nHe pulled the chair out from the table and sat backwards in it, facing the windows. As with any other day in the Sprawl, he felt the changes of the night as he sat there for an hour or so, dutifully watching the last hours of the day tick by. Outside, friendly neighbors became tense and guarded, distancing themselves from everyone except those closest to them. As an ARU officer he was well known and well liked in this area, but now he felt those same people pushing him away as a stranger. Friendly, but a stranger nonetheless. People tended to build up a protective wall around themselves when they lived in a sprawl. He'd grown used to the nocturnal change, expected it.\n\nHe found himself staring at Mirades Tower, some distance away. Offices appeared as beads of light up and down its surface, the lifeblood of commerce and politics working endlessly within. Somewhere in that monolith was a key to unraveling this frustrating case. Someone in there knew something about the attacks today. If only he could figure out who, he could stop this insanity before it got any worse.\n\nHe thought of his visit to the Crest again. He'd witnessed a spiritual healing process taking place throughout the entire city, and both Kai and Ashan had confirmed it. But what was it healing from, and what had hurt it in the first place? The Council of Elders had claimed it was a spiritual imbalance that no one but Nehalé and perhaps a few others had been aware of until recently. If that was actually true, then the imbalance had culminated with the awakening ritual and the hrrah-sehdhyn to set things right again. Five attack points, equidistant from the Mirades Tower...which had been the starting point of the ritual. And the ritual had been in response to...what? Why had Nehalé performed it?\n\n\"Balance,\" he said aloud. Yes...yes, that had to be it!\n\nHe pushed himself off the chair, nearly knocking it over in the process, and grabbed his overcoat from the rack near the doorway. He fished out his comm and with some considerable digging, found the number for the Mendaihu agents. Perching himself this time on one of the windowsills, he dialed the number, at once excited and nervous. Kai answered after the third ring with a stifled yawn.\n\n\"Kai? It's Agent Poe. Did I wake you up?\"\n\n\"Oh...hi,\" she said. \"Sorry, you caught me napping. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Sorry to wake you, but something about this case just occurred to me, and I need your input.\" He found himself feeling giddy. It felt like high school all over again, oddly enough. \"Well...I'm thinking, what if the awakening ritual wasn't part of a...what did you call it earlier? A shimshiya. That's a bit of a misnomer, isn't it? Doesn't that actually mean 'endgame' rather than 'a call to arms' in Anjshé?\"\n\nShe hummed in thought. \"Eons ago it did, Alec. Before the spacefaring eras. Back then it was more of a...um...well, probably a stalemate, more than anything else. The Ariantos Dynasty is what gave the change in meaning....\" She let out a small laugh. \"I'm sorry. I'm tired and I'm rambling.\"\n\n\"No, actually that's exactly what I wanted to know,\" he said. \"You were right. Nehalé wasn't issuing a call to arms, Kai. He doesn't want a revolution or a spiritual war. He doesn't want to gather all the Mendaihu together to fight the Shenaihu at all. He wants a checkmate. He doesn't want anything to happen.\"\n\n\"Funny way to express it,\" she said.\n\n\"In a way, it makes sense. He wasn't so much trying to awaken people for an army...like everyone says, a Mendaihu wouldn't actively do something like that, right?\"\n\n\"Well...yes, as a Mendaihu who follows a certain code of ethics, I'd either have to be utterly despondent, or in real need of a defense against an enemy.\"\n\n\"In other words, what Nehalé did was way out of line, considering any perceived threat was in reality quite negligible.\"\n\n\"In that context, yes.\"\n\nPoe nodded. \"Okay then. If it wasn't a defensive move, could it possibly be an offensive move?\"\n\nKai huffed. \"Alec, that would be completely illogical. Would you hurt Caren in any way just out of a mere suspicion that she may harbor plans to hurt you?\"\n\n\"Of course not.\"\n\n\"Same goes for the Mendaihu. Same exact reasoning. It's just not something we would do to those we care for unconditionally.\"\n\n\"So that leaves one thing...\" he said.\n\n\"The shimshiya...\" she finished.\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"So, you're suggesting that Nehalé deliberately made the first move so that the Shenaihu had no other choice but to respond? He wanted the hrrah-sehdyhn to happen?\"\n\n\"Well, I think in a way he did. Maybe he didn't expect it to be so violent, but I'd be surprised if it hadn't crossed his mind.\" He turned away from the window and stood again, trying to get the words correct as he worked out his thoughts, and began pacing the room. \"So let's say my theory is correct. Let's say Nehalé performed a large-scale awakening ritual for two reasons. First, considering the scale, he was trying to affect as many people as possible. Second, he wanted the Shenaihu to force their hand. And in doing so, both sides are now on level ground.\n\n\"Next — remember what Nick brought up? He was worried about a major Awakening, perhaps an Ascension of the One of All Sacred. It got me thinking...what if another Embodiment is now an inevitability? If that's the case, Nehalé would want to be sure the Light was in balance, if not stacked in his favor, right?\"\n\n\"That's...an interesting theory,\" Kai said unevenly. \"Even if it were true, there are so many loose ends it could unravel pretty quickly.\"\n\n\"Point taken,\" Poe said. \"But that's just it. He's not a rogue Mendaihu. A good number of the newly awakened have been all over the place — Mendaihu, Shenaihu, cho-nyhndah and nuhm'ndah. And of all the witnesses and affected people in the Downtown area that we asked that night, not one of them had a bad thing to say about what happened. It wasn't blind, religious fervor, either. They let it happen, and they're fine with it. He's deliberately trying to keep a balance, so if or when the time comes for an Ascension, it won't be destructive.\"\n\nNow that he had voiced his theory to someone else, even if it seemed odd not to pitch it to Caren first, he was surprised he hadn't come to this conclusion earlier. Nehalé Usarai was not an aggressive man at all. All reports tagged him as one of the best and strongest Mendaihu in Bridgetown Province, and Poe was not a man to be made cynical easily. His previous Mendaihu experiences led him to believe that a man like Nehalé simply would not pull something like a massive awakening ritual without a damn good reason. The man was an extremely cautious prophet.\n\n\"So,\" he said. \"Why don't we all meet up tomorrow at Yoshi's Diner to discuss it? I'm sure with the four of us together, we might be able to work out what Nehalé might do next.\"\n\nKai hummed in agreement. \"Yes, let's do that. I'm sure Ashan will have a few things to say about your theory.\"\n\n\"I'm sure he will,\" he grinned, pleased that the conversation had gone so well. He let a rare wave of optimism rush through him. \"I'll let Caren know and we'll meet up around eight. Thank you, Kai...I appreciate your input.\"\n\n\"You're welcome, Alec! I enjoy chatting with you. Oh, before I forget...I do have one question I've been meaning to ask. I hope I'm not overstepping, but...do you mind?\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" he said. \"What's up?\"\n\n\"I...well,\" she paused, clearly embarrassed. \"I'm sorry if this sounds forward, but it's been on my mind. You see, since we've met, I've been curious about your spirit signature. It's...unique, shall we say. I've never scanned anything like it before.\"\n\n\"Well, uh...\" Poe smiled and raised an eyebrow. \"How does it read to you?\"\n\n\"Cold. Not Shenaihu cold, just...I don't know. An ominous cold.\"\n\n\"Ominous, eh?\" Poe masked his amusement. He'd had it called weird, freakish, and dangerous, but never ominous! \"Let's say it's a very long story.\"\n\n\"I'm so sorry! It was a dumb question. I just...\"\n\n\"No, quite all right, Kai,\" he said, letting her off the hook. \"I get that from a lot of Mendaihu. I'm not sure, but I think it's hereditary. My birth parents apparently had the same off-kilter spiritual energy, or so I'm told. I never knew them in that manner. I was adopted.\"\n\n\"Oh...\" Kai whispered. \"I'm sorry...\"\n\n\"No worries,\" he said. \"Anyway, it's in the past, and I've made my peace with it.\"\n\nHe could tell she wanted to offer a soulhealing, though she did not say it. He'd thought about it many times, but never followed through, for one reason or another.\n\n\"I won't push you, Alec,\" she said softly. \"I understand. And thank you for answering my question.\"\n\nPoe smiled. \"Sure thing. Tomorrow, then?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow it is,\" she said. \"Good night, Alec. Pleasant dreams.\"\n\n\"You too.\"\n\nHe ended the call, turned off the comm, and dropped it back into his coat pocket. He stopped at the windows again, looking out at the Tower. He'd hoped that talking with Kai would have calmed him down some, but it had actually done the opposite. She'd accepted his theory, but she'd also held back from saying too much in response. The two Mendaihu siblings were definitely keeping things from them. Perhaps it was for their own good, perhaps it was for their safety, but it irritated the hell out of him. He hated being coddled like that. He pulled out another cigarette, lit it, and leaned up against one of the window frames. He exhaled heavily, knowing there was nothing more he could do about any of this until morning.\n\nHe'd get answers then, one way or another.\n\n*\n\nDenysia.\n\nDenni Johnson stirred out of slumber and yawned, taking in the cool autumn night breeze from the open window. She'd heard the voice again, calling her by that name. Caren had called her again. Did she just come home? No, she'd been home for the last four hours. Was she talking to someone? Not at this time of night...she never spoke within this late, not if she could help it.\n\nWas someone in the room? No, she'd have sensed their presence before she was fully awake. She looked over at the clock on her desk...it was a few minutes before midnight. She looked around the room again, the lights of the city outside creating odd shapes against the walls and the ceiling. An involuntary shudder ran down her back, making her squirm and hold herself tighter.\n\nDenysia.\n\nThe voice didn't sound at all like Caren, come to think of it.\n\nShe stood up and stretched, wide awake and annoyed now. This wasn't the first time she'd heard a voice calling her name. She wasn't about to answer it within, not until she told Caren about it. She must still be awake at this time...she could sense her still moving around her own room. She stepped quietly out into the hallway to be sure. The lights in the front rooms were off, but there was a thin sliver of light showing under Caren's bedroom door. The room was too quiet. She frowned again...something was up.\n\nShe crossed the hall and poked her head in. She found Caren at her desk, tapping absently at a vidmat, completely lost in thought. She stared at the display of a fractal flower as it spun slowly at her tapping, the colors morphing from one to the next, never staying on one hue. Denni frowned...this was not a good sign, not at all. Caren hadn't used the flower meditation program in years. She'd used them when Mum and Dad died...did something happen? To Poe? To Madeleine? Without a word, she stepped towards her sister until she was right behind her, and reached out a hand.\n\n\"Hey, Den,\" Caren said before Denni had even touched her shoulder, startling her. She recoiled slightly, surprised, and then moved closer again. Caren's aura felt cold and frail. Without looking, she reached up a hand to cover hers. \"Good to see you, kid.\"\n\nCaren's voice wavered, as if she had been crying. Denni wrapped both arms around her neck and gave her a quick squeeze. \"Hey, sis,\" she said. \"You okay?\"\n\nCaren breathed deep and fell into Denni's embrace, giving her a tired smile. With the other hand she touched the vidmat's sensor pad and turned it off. \"Yeah...I am now. Just had one of the shittiest days of my entire life today. I can handle it.\"\n\n\"Come on, I'll make you some tea.\" She grabbed a hand and led her to the living room and sat her down on the couch. She entered the adjoining kitchen, tapped the light above the sink on to the lowest level and grabbed two coffee mugs, all while keeping an eye on her sister. She was looking back at her with trepidation, maybe a little hint of defeat.\n\n\"You know you've got school tomorrow,\" Caren said lamely.\n\n\"I'm fine. Noise woke me up anyway.\"\n\n\"Oh...did I wake you?\" She had leaned back on the sofa at an odd angle, burrowed in between cushions and a comforter. She held herself too closely, knees brought up to her chest. Definitely not a good sign. She filled the teapot and put it on the stove to boil, and joined her in the living room.\n\n\"No, I didn't hear you at all, actually.\" She played up the mundane talk to keep Caren's mind going somewhere. \"I...uh...it was the street. It was humid and I had the window open. Have you already shut down work for the night?\"\n\n\"About a half hour ago,\" she said.\n\n\"Yeah...didn't even hear you.\" She bit her lip, trying to think of something to say...but luckily after a few moments the kettle had started to whistle. \"Hold that thought.\" She grabbed two bags of peppermint tea from a cupboard and brought the mugs into the room, setting them on the coffee table to steep. \"Here. I know you like this stuff.\" Be strong, Caren, she thought. I don't want to see you lose it again. She snuggled up next to her sister and pulled her close. \"Come on,\" she said softly. \"Don't blink out on me now. Talk to me.\"\n\nCaren hesitated, but only for a moment. \"I'm sorry,\" she said, dropping her head on Denni's shoulder, and let out a long, labored sigh. She reached over and grabbed a mug of tea, gingerly pulling out the bag and placing it in a nearby bowl. \"You heard about what happened today?\"\n\nShe nodded and picked up her own mug. \"Yeah. Saw some of the coverage on vidmat over Amna's place. NewsComm didn't say much, though...they're leaving out too much detail. They're keeping something back.\"\n\n\"Oh, they are, kid. Believe me,\" Caren grumbled into her mug. Swallowing, she let out a satisfied sigh. \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"You needed it,\" she said.\n\nCaren turned to her and smiled, but said nothing. It was a sad smile, a brave face that hid a much deeper pain. She returned to her mug, staring into it and swirling the contents, taking another sip. She saw a tear welling up in her eye, but she masked it quickly by letting out a yawn, wiping it away as an afterthought. She set the mug down and pulled at the comforter. She turned to Denni, and gave her the sad smile again, reaching out and ruffling her hair. It took her a few tries to get words out, the Johnson habit of stuttering and restarting, trying to form the right words the first time out.\n\n\"I can't reveal too much right now,\" she said finally, and let the words spill freely. \"But yes, Poe and I were involved. Indirectly, I mean. Investigating them. Sheila and Nick were at the church, near it, when it happened. Poe and I were at the office. I was calling contacts about the awaking ritual, of all things. Sheila and Nick are doing fine. Shaken, but fine.\" She stopped there for a moment, watching Denni and contemplating, until she pursed her lips and turned away. \"Damn it all...\" she said, wiping her eyes. \"I can't do this to you. I can't hold this back anymore. It's not fair to either of us.\"\n\nIt took a tremendous amount of courage, but she went on to describe everything that had happened today, leaving nothing out. Denni listened in rapt silence, both shocked and a little afraid. Caren had occasionally talked about her active cases, but never to this extent. If she was telling her now, it had to be important...more to the point, it had to be personal. An Embodiment? She knew its history...it just sounded so impossible! Why now? What were the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu up to...?\n\nCaren laid a protective arm around her, wiping the last of her tears with her free hand. \"Denni...I needed to tell you this because you have a right to know what I do. I won't leave you in the dark, not anymore.\"\n\nDenni nodded, eyes wide. \"Goddess...it was that serious?\"\n\n\"There's no doubt, Den,\" Caren said. \"You must understand now why I'm so worried about you. But I had to tell you.\"\n\nThe nuhm'ndah... She moved closer, burrowing in under her sister's outstretched arm. She stared blankly into the center of the room, biting her lip and trying hard not to quiver. The nuhm'ndah. They've come back. Thoughts, blurred and dark memories from five years ago, the ones she'd fought so hard to hide, threatened to break the surface of her protective conscience. She could only hope she had the strength to handle the eventual lifting of that veil.\n\nDenysia.\n\nThe voice startled her and she twitched before she could stop herself.\n\n\"Denni?\" Caren pulled her arm away. \"You okay?\"\n\n\"I...\" she shied away. \"I thought I just heard something.\" Oh Goddess...it's not Caren at all! Who's been calling me all this time?\n\nDenysia!\n\nShe trembled. \"It's...I can hear someone calling me...I thought it was you, but you're not talking to me at all. You know, inside. And they're using that name.\"\n\nCaren's face grew dark. \"He got to you, didn't he?\" she growled. \"It's Nehalé...you were affected the other night, weren't you?\"\n\n\"It...doesn't sound like him,\" she said in as calm a tone as she could muster. \"It sounds like a woman...somewhere close by. She's not attacking me, she's just...calling my name. Like she's just checking in.\"\n\n\"It could be anyone,\" Caren mumbled. She was trying her hardest to calm herself down. \"Are you sure they're...?\"\n\nI can hear her just fine, Denni said within. She means no harm.\n\nHer sister took an uneven breath, exhaled, and tried again. It nearly came out as a choking sob. But within, her voice was as calm and confident as it might have been on her strongest day. Denysia, she said. Tell me what you sense. Let me know what she wants.\n\nDenni nodded. She closed her eyes, cast out a small thread of contact, and listened.\n\nThe response was immediate and full of relief. Denysia! Thank the Goddess I've found you! the voice said. There was a slight shiver, a ripple of pure emotion, and she felt it throughout her entire body at once. I will not burden you now. I am only confirming that you are safe. Your sister Karinna will protect you. I will call you again soon.\n\nWait! Denni called out. Who are you? Where are you?\n\nSilence. The voice was gone — no, it was still there, just quiet. The presence hummed in in the back of her mind, just barely audible. They were sensing her, looking for the center of her spirit, and —\n\nShe gasped. Something blazingly hot had pricked her insides, just a needle-thin jab, painful for less than a second before it vanished. She twitched and opened her eyes wide. They'd put something within her — no, they'd poked at something inside of her, nudging it awake.\n\nAwaken, my dearest, the voice said. And then it finally disappeared.\n\n\"I...\" she whispered.\n\nCaren took her hands and held them tight. She began breathing slowly and evenly, relaxing every muscle in her body. Denni felt a sudden release of energy not her own, lifting outward from her body and dissipating in the air around them. She felt the waves of calming energy washing through her, crossing through their clasped hands and surrounding her. The ripples were warm, washing over her like love. And she understood — it was love. The energy that she felt between her sister and herself, what she had felt from their parents, from Alec, from...\n\n\"I...\"\n\n...she understood that love was not just an emotion, but also a living, ever-changing energy that enshrouded her, ever protective and unending. She felt it flow between them like a secret forgotten language, understood even without proper words, or even any words at all. This wondrous and frightening new world was completely hers and hers alone, and she was suddenly not afraid.\n\nShe understood.\n\nShe was Mendaihu.\n\nI...Caren...what is...what is this I feel?\n\nCaren's hands twitched in hers. This is us, Denysia. The true us.\n\n\"I...don't understand.\" She was startled by her own voice in the silent apartment, and confused by it as well. It sounded dry, distant, and without any feeling, compared to the full emotion and beautiful timbre of her inner voice.\n\nThis is our heritage, Denysia, Caren spoke within her, her voice rippling through every nerve of her body, soothing and close. Her voice bypassed her ears and brain and went straight for the heart of her spirit. She knew at once that this was truly a sacred ability, where only the truth resided. This is what our parents were. They were Mendaihu. As are we.\n\n\"Mend—\" She began to say the word aloud, but stopped herself.\n\n\"Denni,\" she said, her voice warm and soft. \"I tried to keep you from this...this secret, and I'm sorry.\" She squeezed Denni's hands again, this time hard. \"I tried to keep it from myself, and I realize now how utterly stupid and dangerous that was.\"\n\nDenni frowned. \"What do you mean?\"\n\nCaren huffed out a tiny laugh and let go of her hands. She leaned back on the cushions of the couch, sinking into their softness, and closed her eyes with a smile. She seemed finally at peace with herself, surprising both of them. The anxiety and fear had completely left her, leaving the real Caren Johnson: a compassionate, courageous, loving woman.\n\nWe are Mendaihu, Denni said.\n\nCaren beamed, laughing inwardly. She opened her eyes and looked at her.\n\n\"We are all luminous beings,\" she replied. \"Just that some of us have to learn how to accept that fact.\"\n\n*\n\nDenysia....\n\nMy little sis.\n\nHmmm....You know, I've been trying to figure out a way to talk to you about this, to try and find a good time, but I never seemed to get there. I won't even bother with excuses, Den, you deserve that much. So right now I'm going with my gut instincts, saying the truest words I can. I'm speaking within you, Denysia. There are no lies here. There never have been, and there never will be.\n\nI know you are sleeping right now, and I am whispering this so I won't wake you. I can only hope that your soul, or your subconscious hears this and retains it. I'm in my bed right now, right down the hall from you, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, and I pray that you won't be scared by everything that went on today. I meant to ask you what that soul had said to you, but you looked uncomfortable in bringing it up, so I won't push you. When you're ready, please, please talk to me, okay?\n\nWell. Umm.\n\nDen, you see, what happened today...at the church, and with the conversations I'd had with the Mendaihu we're working with...I just couldn't help but think of Mum and Dad. I know it happened five years ago...I really don't know how much of it you remember, or even want to remember. Goddess knows I try not to remember it at all, though I know eventually I'll come to terms with it. I want to, but it's just so hard...\n\nSo let me say this:\n\nMum and Dad died trying to save us, Denni. I know I told you a version of this, but I never told you the whole story. It's true they were over at that apartment at Branden Hill Park, trying to lure out a violent antialienist, who had kidnapped two kids, a boy and a girl. How do I know this? Classified files, kid. Both the ARU and the BMPD shut this case down damn quick, while I recuperated from the shock. Later on I had access — unofficial access, mind you, thanks to a few people who shall remain nameless for now. Suffice it to say I'm indebted to them for giving me the truth when I needed it most. Hell, I was barely able to process it, but you know? I wouldn't have had it any other way. I'm glad they told me when they did, instead of keeping me in the dark, throwing lies or half-truths at me like everyone else.\n\nSorry, I'm getting distracted. Now...\n\nThose two kids? Boy was eight, the girl was ten. I don't remember the names, but that's not really important right now. What is important, is that this antialienist? He was a Reality Seer. Sort of like a soulsenser, only they can see the multiple outcomes of any given action. Think of Alec, he's a profiler. A profiler's aim is to find the one most possible outcome, while a reality seer looks for the largest number of possible outcomes.\n\nSo...um...\n\nSo these kids...apparently he was convinced — and said as much to Mum and Dad when they accosted him, according to transcripts — that the kids were both future Warriors of the One of All Sacred. Uh...well, to keep it short, Warriors are Mendaihu soldiers whose only role is to protect the One at all costs in both his or her physical and spiritual forms. At those kids' ages, one can never really tell what they'll become. A skilled Mendaihu, maybe, but a Warrior? It's possible, but the odds are astronomical. Kids are still too malleable at that age. They can go either way, become anything at all.\n\nSo...Mum and Dad confront this guy, try to get the kids out, you know? It's a standard practice, being a Mendaihu -- get the innocent out, sacrificing yourself if you have to. Only this guy...\n\n...\n\n...sorry.\n\n...this guy. He, uh. He...he kills them. I'll spare you the long version, Den. The poor kids...he...he, um...\n\n...\n\n...damn. I'm sorry. It still bothers the hell out of me, kid. Just bear with me.\n\nHe...he, um...so he takes their lives...and...Mum witnesses it all. She can't do a damn thing because she wasn't in range to stop him, but she was able to see and sense the whole thing, record it. Guy's completely lost it at this point, he doesn't give a shit what he does anymore. And he knows Mum is there, and calls her out. He challenges Mum, he challenges her to a fight, see? A fight to the...to the death.\n\nDo you understand now, Den?\n\nThis guy. He was Shenaihu. A damn near invulnerable Shenaihu. A nuhm'ndah Shenaihu, like those from twenty-five years ago. Like the ones who were at the church today. Scary strong. Relentless. Without moral. You'd want to be the hell away from them as quickly as possible. So he, uh. Mum wasn't able to retreat quickly enough. He takes Mum up to...he...pushed her through two floors and through the roof.\n\n...\n\nShe...um...she lost consciousness quick, Den. I'm sure she didn't suffer much.\n\n...\n\nDad, well. Heh. You know him. He'd withstand a nuclear blast if it meant saving his family. That's the kind of guy, the kind of ARU officer he was. And he witnessed all that, and he was fucking pissed! He takes the bastard into the Light, kid. Can you believe it? Didn't even think twice. Who would have known our own father was able to Lightwalk like the highest trained Mendaihu could? Goddess...! He took the guy there, and next thing you know, they're both high above the city. I don't know if it was Dad's sense of irony or sick sense of humor, but he re-emerges above the Mirades Tower, and lets them fall. Just high enough to kill them both.\n\nWeird thing, Dad was never found.\n\nHuh. Yeah, I know. Stupid freakin' ending to a story, right? So damn stupid and pointless...but it makes sense, you know? Now that I'm past the, uh, the soulhealing. I understand it now. He was protecting both of us, Den. Whoever that bastard was that killed our parents, knew them as Mendaihu. They sacrificed themselves for us, Den. They wanted us to grow up unafraid and unscathed. If and when we came into our Mendaihu traits, we would experience them as they truly are: as energies of love and compassion. If we had become involved in these Shenaihu back then...who knows what would have happened?\n\nMe? Well. I think I've adjusted to these traits by now. Sheila figured me out soon after the fact. Farraway knows. Poe? Maybe, maybe not, he's never said anything about it. I can never tell with him anyway, but I think he'd understand. I'm certain those two Mendaihu we're working with know by now. I think Nick might know, but you can never tell with him. What they don't know is that I've been using it for some time now, even when I don't admit to myself that I am.\n\nOnly tonight have I finally fully accepted this truth, when I saw it in your eyes, and felt it in your hands. I can only hope that you do better than I did, Denysia.\n\nHeh.\n\nDo you know why I just called you that? That's your adopted Mendaihu name. Mum used to call you that when she cradled you as a baby. I remember Dad calling me Karinna all the time. It's a reminder to let us know that we're all in it together. That there are other spirits out there that will keep us anchored so we don't lose ourselves.\n\nSo hey — just keep all this in your heart, okay? But do me a favor. Don't let it eat at you, not like I did. We're Mendaihu, Den. We're too strong for that. We won't act on revenge. Mum and Dad may be dead, but their souls live on. Remember that, most of all. Their souls live on, eternally.\n\nI love you, kid. I truly love you with all that I am, and I'm always there for you.\n\nSleep tight. Sorry if I woke you up.\n\nCHAPTER FOURTEEN\n\nProvincial Governor's Council, Lehandiri Room, Mirades Tower\n\nConsidering all the recent events, not one of the eleven main members of the Provincial Governor's Council dared to chastise him for his unorthodox changing of the speech. Even Jack Priestley held his tongue. He sat two chairs away from him at the curved council table, equally disappointed in Anton's actions and frustrated at his own unexpected impotence. Anton at least acknowledged his presence here, for all the good it did.\n\nHe had deliberately waited until everything had settled down before he began this meeting. He had refused to do anything or make any further statements until he knew for sure that the attacks on his city had ceased. An unsanctioned spiritual flare-up had been made with the Mirades Tower as its apparent main target for the second time in three days. Five attacks this time. He wasn't about to hold an in-house PGC meeting until he knew it was safe to do so.\n\nNow he held it out of necessity. He would have rather talked in a closed-door meeting with his administrators in a vidmat conference, and it probably would have been the safer and smarter move, yet Jack had pushed him into it. Anton had no qualms with members of the Crimson-Null Foundation...just with him. The bugger of it all was that he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He shook his head in frustration, and pushed himself out of his chair. The council lowered their voices to a few hushed whispers, and all eyes landed on him.\n\n\"Good evening,\" Anton said. \"I thank you for coming out tonight, and again I apologize for taking up your personal time away from loved ones to be here.\" He winced, finding that introduction a bit stiff. He let out a nervous cough, and continued. \"In light of recent events, this will be an informal meeting, though we will be recording for archiving. We're not here to make any concrete decisions, but to gather and parse all information available. We need to know what went on in my province these last few days, and why.\"\n\nBefore Anton could continue, the lone uniformed man sitting halfway down the table raised his hand slightly, requesting attention. Lean, clean-cut and a little too handsome, General Stephen Phillips found admirers everywhere in the Bridgetown Province as the leader of the Sentinel Force Guard. During these closed-door meetings, however, Anton found him irritatingly petulant and pedantic. He was reasonably nice person on the surface, but his confrontational attitude irritated the hell out of everyone. Anton nodded to him with a forced half-smile, accepting his offering and expecting a long, detailed report that had been prepared beforehand. With a twitch of his left eye, the General called up the file from the nearest SFG database which would display somewhere in his field of vision, giving his eyes a slightly glazed expression.\n\n\"Before we start,\" Anton interrupted. \"I would like to once again remind you that this is an informal meeting. There are no time limits. There are no formal guidelines to be followed other than civility.\" Seeing that no one objected and he had nothing more to say, he conceded. \"And...I believe General Phillips has the floor.\"\n\nThe General nodded with a determined straight face and out of habit started to stand, only to quickly sit back down, all in one fluid movement. \"Thank you, Governor,\" he began. \"I would like to start by reading a quick synopsis of today's events according to SFG findings...\"\n\nAnton quickly distracted himself by standing up in the middle of his introduction, much to the General's surprise and annoyance, and moved to the bank of windows behind him. He could hear the man's awkward pause in speech and quick rebound. He'd already heard the General's lengthy and graphic report on the day's attacks twice today. Not worth hearing this again, he thought. Once is too much.\n\nThe meeting room's windows faced northwest, towards the glow of the landing grids of the Bridgetown TransUniversal Nullport and the gentle hills of the inner sectors. He wished he could see Branden Hill Park, straight west and just out of his line of sight. Nehalé Usarai had been living there as late as yesterday, right under the noses of the Alien Relations Unit headquarters down the street. He briefly watched the BMPD helicopters hovering over the Data Research Library Archives up in Glover Court, and Saint Patrick's Cathedral in McCleever District, searchlights cutting the air. Three more swarms of helicopters would be hovering with their own searchlights on the other side of the Tower, in Fraserville, South City, and to his right at Sculler's Crossing. Violence in five different areas of the city...and he was once again powerless to do anything about it. His failure made the dull pain in his head return with a vengeance.\n\nShirai's report had not left his thoughts, and he refused to put them aside. Something important was going on here in the city, something much larger than the politics and economics that came with running a province. This was on a societal level, a psychological and spiritual level. Most of the people here in this meeting room had no idea what was going on, and probably wouldn't be able to fathom the extent of damage it would cause even if they did. They didn't care about spiritual balance — it wasn't a concrete idea. General Phillips had not mentioned the Shenaihu once during his presentation. He had just spoken words that were on the minds of every single person in this room, yet none dared say them.\n\nHe swore under his breath. If anything, there was only one person in this room who might understand. And she wasn't saying anything at all.\n\n\"Sir?\" the General called out.\n\nHe turned and faced the soldier with a bored lift of an eyebrow. \"Yes, General?\"\n\nThe soldier cleared his throat and stood up as if to address the room. \"Sir, you seem to be taking this morning's attacks with a troubling amount of calm.\"\n\nAnton smirked. \"Would you rather I lose my sanity, Stephen?\"\n\nThe General blinked, first in confusion, then in bemusement at Anton's deliberate avoidance of his title. \"Sir. I hardly think this an appropriate time for humor.\"\n\n\"Get to the point, please.\"\n\nThe man glared at him. \"Without haste, sir. The ARU Sentinel Teams have deployed security troops around various parts of the city. They have now secured the perimeters of the five attack points, with additional forces at other major public places, such as data libraries, corporate buildings, and other research facilities. The BMPD have covered the public market areas such as the lower end of Sculler's Crossing and the various shopping centers.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"Sir, I am at a loss. There is no immediate crisis in any public area that any of us have seen. None more so than usual, at any rate. Given that the five-point attack took place at five public and seemingly predestined locations, we should be expecting a threat against the Tower itself. Yet for the last ten hours we have seen and reported nothing at all.\"\n\nAnton let out a long, patient breath. Couldn't they see the obvious? Or were they just avoiding it? \"For that, I have no answer, General. Perhaps they're waiting for a Mendaihu response.\"\n\n\"Governor!\" Nandahya Mirades gasped. That off the cuff statement had clearly hit a nerve with the Meraladian councilor, which was precisely what he'd meant to do. Nandahya, the representative for Affairs of Meraladian Society, had been waiting with strained patience for an opening so she could join in the conversation, and he had just given it to her. She glared at him with dark eyes and a ferocious scowl. Her spot at the council table was to his immediate left — a purely symbolic position to show equality between Meraladian and human — but she so rarely took an active part in these meetings. And she was that one person here who truly understood what was going on out there.\n\n\"I do apologize, emha Mirades,\" he said, bowing slightly in her direction. \"That was not meant as a slight, but as a possibility.\"\n\nNandahya pursed her lips and frowned at him, holding back coarser words. She closed her eyes, let out a breath, and continued. \"Sir,\" she said. \"I realize that may have been a rhetorical remark, and a poor one at that. But the chances of a response by the Mendaihu may be higher than you think. Even more so if edha Usarai makes that response. Right now, scores of Devotees are gathering in the Waterfront sector, at or near the abandoned Moulding Warehouse. The reports on the NewsComms are saying they're only performing meditations and prayers...\" she trailed off. Even she knew how pathetic she sounded.\n\nAnton walked to the window again, touching the cold panes with his fingertips. Knowing full well that any decision made during this meeting would rest on his shoulders, for good or ill, he set about trying to put an end to this directionless talk. Given the situation, he wanted to give these Devotees the benefit of the doubt. After all, a circle cast of that magnitude was not something to be taken lightly. But he also did not want to endanger the citizens of Bridgetown in any way. Selfish reasons be damned — the last thing he would want to see would be a full-scale war between spiritual factions. He did not want that to happen again.\n\nHe turned around and faced the council again. \"General Phillips, I would like to have a Spec Force Unit parked at various points inside the Waterfront District. Make it unobtrusive. Let the devotees know your teams are there for everyone's safety, just to keep the peace should anything arise. There is to be absolutely no interference without my say-so. The ARU are still trying to track down edha Usarai, so he could be anywhere — even down at the warehouse.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nNandahya frowned at him. \"While I do honor your decision for the Special Forces to be in the district purely for security and safety, Governor, I realize I must throw my own rhetorical question into discussion. Now, given that this display of ritual and prayer is a peaceful gesture, I'm sure that we can all rest easy in the notion that they will have been well protected, if overly so. However, given the theories for the motives behind the attacks that have already surfaced on the street and in the media, what are the resources open to us if the same thing happens again, perhaps on a much larger scale? Mere Spec Force units will be far from adequate to protect the crowds.\"\n\nAnton stopped himself from reacting foolishly. \"In answer to your rhetorical question — and correct me if I'm wrong — I feel that the Spec Force Unit is more than adequate for protection, especially if they are joined by the ARU Sentinel teams. The two were designed to complement each other in just this type of situation, emha Mirades. Past events will prove that.\"\n\nNandahya nodded in agreement. \"I understand that, Governor, but that was twenty-five years ago. Are the two still in sync?\"\n\nAnton glanced at General Phillips, who gave him a proud and emphatic nod. He next turned to the gray-haired man sitting a few seats away. Allen Tatreaux, the Commissioner for the Alien Relations Unit of the BMPD, had been sitting silently and impatiently with arms crossed and a deep scowl crossing his face throughout the whole meeting. Anton regretted having to ask. \"Commissioner Tatreaux, do you wish to add to that?\"\n\nThe man nodded and finally unraveled his arms. There were sweat stains against his shirt, he was so wound up. \"The connection between the SFG and the Alien Relations Unit is as strong as it's ever been, sir,\" he grumbled, a touch of cynicism in his voice. \"I'm surprised that we're even being questioned about it.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" emha Mirades said. \"But being linked and being in sync are two separate things, especially if we're dealing with the Shenaihu and the Mendaihu.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Forgive me for being blunt,\" she said. \"But are you absolutely sure the two can still work together with precision? I've personally heard evidence to the contrary...but I was hoping you could prove me wrong.\"\n\nAnton winced...that was indeed a low blow. Commissioner Tatreaux seemed to wilt a little under that statement, but refused to back down. This was not the first time the ARU had been laughed at. He leaned across the table towards the woman and pointed an accusatory finger at her. \"Your personal opinions about the ARU and the Special Forces Guard should not enter into this, emha Mirades.\"\n\nThe corner of her mouth curled up into a smirk. \"I should say the same to you, Commissioner.\"\n\nA bunch of idiots, Anton thought, disgusted. A bunch of blessed idiots here. It's a damned comedy. The only person not joining in this argument was the one who should have been keeping this from happening: Mancka Udéma, the sole representative for the Mendaihu collective. She chose not to bicker or break it up, instead watching all parties intently, as a well-trained Mendaihu would before going for the strike. Eventually she glanced at him, shook her head, and pushed herself ever so slightly away from the table.\n\nShe was losing patience, and so was he.\n\n\"Please! A little civility here, people,\" he warned. \"As it stands, Spec Force units will be stationed in the Waterfront District, away from the action but close enough for immediate response. An ARU Sentinel Team will be on call until further notice. I am considering this a Level Two spiritual event involving both Mendaihu and Shenaihu, but not on the scale of the Eighth Embodiment and its aftermath. And as Governor of Bridgetown Province, I am refusing to let it get that far.\"\n\nNandahya Mirades gave him a flash of a Meraladian smile. \"...and if it does,\" she said, \"leave that to the Mendaihu, Governor.\"\n\n*\n\n\"Shirai.\"\n\nGovernor Rieflin sat at the corner of his desk, arms crossed and brows furrowed deep. He stared hard at the emptiness between himself and the floor, as if trying to will the Mirades Tower AI into existence before him, as if he had any control of her whereabouts. He sounded out her name again, this time less of a beckoning and more of a musing, as if searching for the meaning behind it.\n\n_Shirai_ , he thought. _Who are you?_ Shirai, the shimmering and vigilant angel of the Mirades Tower, omniscient and impartial. She was perfection. She was protector. She was science. She was philosophy. She was _reason_. And she'd been curiously absent all day.\n\nHe pushed himself off the desk, returning to the seat behind it. Several messages were open on the desk vidmat, all tagged different shades of bright colors for various levels of importance. Whose importance was up to question, as he hadn't touched any of them all day.\n\n_Urgent: Please discuss future economic outlook anent today's events_ , the top one read, its author D.D. Hazeley and Associates. He frowned, utterly baffled by that memo. Hazeley represented trade stocks on Hallera and had nothing to do with Bridgetown! Another, from Borland & Lifeson: _Governor: please pass on to Priestley as soon as possible. Would like to know fiscal repercussions post-'ritual' in Bridgetown center._ Another, from Kozelek Futures: _Need update on ritual and St. Patrick's. When will we see new budget post-event?_\n\nAnd quite the pile from EdenTree, right here in the Tower: _We need information ASAP. Please forward all available information regarding awakening ritual to our contacts at your earliest convenience._ And a follow up a half hour later: _Have not heard response to above query. Please respond urgently._ And twenty minutes after that: _Governor, we understand that you are already working on the situation. We are in need of any updates as soon as possible to ensure that our clients are not adversely affected._ And finally, six minutes ago: _Please respond ASAP with any updates you may have at this time. We would prefer not to escalate this request to the Crimson-Null Foundation._\n\nAnton winced, feeling physically ill, and wiped the messages off the screen with a brush of his arm. Goddess knew how many people had been affected in the ritual and the attacks...and the lawyers and financial institutions were tripping all over themselves wondering who stood to lose money from it. And they threw the word 'ritual' around recklessly, as if it were an unfortunate dip in the economy and not the historical event it actually was. He'd expected as much from these people since the night it happened, but still it disgusted him.\n\nHe'd also read the NewsComm feeds. He found himself profoundly impressed by the citizens of Bridgetown and their resilience; the horrors of the war during the Eighth Embodiment still hung fresh in their minds, and the recent attacks were a stark reminder that it could happen again. There had been many terrorist attacks both attempted and committed since then, but none had come close to the level of that catastrophe. His citizens had learned to channel their fears into a guarded readiness and a well-tempered anger. Pockets of dissenters lurked here and there, but their small sizes kept them from causing any lasting damage. He still needed to be a visible presence in the city, but they did not need coddling. They would rise with him if asked.\n\nHe also thought of the fringe groups — the anarchists and the jackers in particular. They'd been curiously quiet. During that dark time in the past, petty street crime had become virtually nonexistent, aside from random but infrequent small scale looting. The street gangs knew well enough to steer clear of the high-level situations and generally kept their mayhem to their own sector. However, the hackers had taken free reign of the network at the time, disrupting securities and business in general and taking it to the point of a strange, structured anarchy. It would take nearly three years before Shirai would have the net completely under control again.\n\nShirai...she had been created soon after to create order out of the virtual chaos within the Mirades Tower, to great effect. She led the engineering brigade in putting up the firewalls and releasing the retroviruses, cutting down nearly all of the hackers in their prime. Some clusters survived to this day, though in smaller numbers and with less damage done. Only one group, Vigil, had eluded the killing grasp of Shirai.\n\nVigil was perhaps the most dangerous of them all, because they were not terrorists. They were not aiming to destroy democracy or the economy, nor were they out to cause chaos and destruction. They were there 'to bring things into a wider perspective by leveling the playing fields', according to their manifesto. They messed with systems not to ruin them, but to keep them from overrunning humanity. They rewrote the existing rules before anyone had a chance to stop them. They vanished without a trace soon after Shirai's successful rebuilding of the city's economic infrastructure, apparently no longer anticipating any major events, and only surfaced briefly every couple of years or so, just to shake things up. They'd never completely gone away, they only moved further underground, out of everyone's reach.\n\nIt wasn't until five years ago that he had learned of their current reemergence. They had not bugged the Tower's system, nor had they laid any businesses to waste...they had no qualms with the way the province ran then, and left it alone. This time, they had worked on a more personal level. They had helped a young Alien Relations Unit officer find out what had happened to her recently slain parents, who had also been on the ARU. They had been victims of the first Shenaihu-related homicides in years, taking all the security forces by surprise. They did not want this event to become public at all, and after a thorough investigation, they closed the case and refused access to nearly everyone. However, six months later, a small but significant amount of high-level restricted information had been leaked in her direction. Information that she had initially been denied. Anton had learned about all this after the fact, once the BMPD had unsuccessfully requested a warrant for Vigil's arrest. Countering that she had more than earned the right to hear the truth, he denied the request and let it drop. The ARU officer had been given the true story of her parents, even given a recommendation later that year, and Vigil shrank once more into the shadows. No harm, no foul.\n\nAnd now, here they were again, making themselves known with a memo he had received extremely late last night, with just four words: _Leave them in peace._\n\n\"Peace?\" he had laughed bitterly, knowing exactly whom they were referring to. \"I don't think it exists anymore. It's not economically viable.\"\n\nHoping to shake off some tension, Anton finally requested Shirai's presence. The hologram of the young virtual woman arrived within seconds, again sitting in the chair in front of his desk. She gave him a polite smile and a singsong greeting meant to be endearing towards those she dealt with. Anton smiled back, nodding at the hologram.\n\n\"Greetings, Shirai,\" he said. \"I would like to ask you a few questions regarding the events of the past few days. I would also like to have this conversation as private as possible.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Of course, sir. That can be arranged immediately. Commencing select private recording now.\"\n\nHe nodded in appreciation. \"Shirai, I need to know what is happening on the _outside_. Do you have any idea how the citizens of Bridgetown are handling the awakening ritual and yesterday's events?\"\n\n\"Would you like the numbers or the general consensus, Governor?\"\n\n\"The less numbers the better, please.\"\n\n\"Well, sir...\" she trailed off as her image looked away in blank contemplation. In the space of that second or so, her lack of any facial gesture could have been read any number of ways to anyone, and Anton read it as a reflection of the sprawl's general mood. He bit his lower lip and frowned.\n\n\"Sir,\" she continued. \"I have gathered that a majority of the people are afraid, but not overly so. The older citizens have lived through such attacks, some have even taken part in them; they have faith in you, and believe you have it under control.\"\n\nAnton nodded. \"And the younger citizens?\"\n\n\"They fall under the wing of the elders, sir. A good many of them are well informed and well protected. They do not want another war.\"\n\n\"That's good to hear, Shirai. I'm glad the citizens are taking such responsibility with their children.\" _But not enough,_ he thought, keeping those words and worries to himself. _Not enough are protected. Not from this._\n\n\"Next question...about the Mendaihu. I understand that they do not advocate violence, and make every effort to keep any situation from resorting to it. Are the Mendaihu reacting to the last few days' events in any way? That is, other than contributing to the injured and helping with the reconstruction?\"\n\nShirai's image almost brightened at the mention of Mendaihu. \"Sir, I am glad to report that there has been quite an influx of Mendaihu activity within the last day or so. Many of them are aiding in the search for Nehalé Usarai. Before the awakening ritual, he was most frequently seen in the Waterfront District as a volunteer for St. Paul's Church on Haden Street. There have been unconfirmed reports of his presence there at this point. Other than that, the Mendaihu have done well to quell the fears of many. Civilian Mendaihu with no official connections to the ARU, the BMPD, the Council of Elders, or any other agency have opted to become watchers for their neighborhoods. The BMPD and the ARU are both sanctioning this action.\"\n\nAnton nodded again, but still he found himself fearing the worst. The tension in his shoulders tightened, a knot of pain welling up. Nausea constricted his throat, but not enough to make him feel physically sick. He tried another tack. He was sure this would be a dead end, but he wanted to ask anyway. \"Next question. I've been hearing about the nuhm'ndah. Not widespread, but enough to cause me concern. Can you confirm if they are involved?\"\n\nShirai's holo gave him a wince that unnerved him; she was not programmed, at least not to his knowledge, to react with personal emotions. A second later she regained her senses and leveled her eyes at him. \"Yesterday's events are still being investigated, Governor. It is quite definite that the nuhm'ndah were involved. They're remnants of the old Meraladhza spacefaring history, used now for, well...for lack of a better term, black ops work — infiltration, assassination, terrorism. That they were sent by the Shenaihu is yet to be proven, though recorded evidence may point in that direction. The ARU are in possession of a vidcrystal recording of the attack at St. Patrick's Cathedral.\"\n\nAnton shuddered at that revelation. Why hadn't anyone been told about it? The ARU would not have withheld evidence from the governmental end of the investigation...not unless the Mendaihu were involved, then it would more than likely become a Crimson-Null Foundation problem.\n\nHe shuddered. That had to be the reason. \"Okay...\" he said slowly. \"I know there were security cams that caught the other four attacks...\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" she offered. \"But with limited detail. The cams themselves were destroyed soon after the attacks started. Witnesses with eyecam access came forward with their recordings, and all footage was edited together to make a rough cut for the five attacks. I believe BMPD Commissioner Tatreaux contacted you earlier today to groundsend you a copy.\"\n\n\"He did, but I haven't had the chance to view it yet. Getting back to the question...first of all, everything we need to know about the nuhm'ndah we gleaned from history. They're dangerous souls, Shirai, inhabiting human and Meraladian alike. But do these people choose to be nuhm'ndah, or do they have it chosen for them?\"\n\n\"I do not know, sir,\" she said.\n\n\"Regardless,\" he said. \"They are still human and Meraladhza, despite whichever way their spirit follows. But how do you indict or incarcerate a spirit, Shirai? How do you incarcerate or condemn a _soul_ to death, when the physical body may not be entirely guilty?\" He sighed, unclenching his hands. \"Yeah, I know...like I said, this is all rhetorical. We have the Mendaihu, the ARU, and the CNF to do the dirty work.\" He growled in frustration and waved the thought away quickly. \"You know, forget I even asked that. It's a pointless thought.\"\n\n\"It's not pointless, sir, far from it. Just...well, I don't believe it's the question you need to be asking right now.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" he said, and found he couldn't look her in the eyes. He shook his head, knowing that her eyes were not real but part of the interactive holo program, and distracted himself by getting up and moving towards the windows of his office. He pulled one of the blinds aside, revealing the overcast sky and a storm brewing somewhere in the northwest.\n\n\"One last question. No, make that two. Your creator, Reimos Mirades. He was quite the scientist down in EdenTree's Biotech division. Sure, we lost most information during the season of the Eighth Embodiment, and the techware terrorism that followed soon after. However, I was able to contact the research librarian at the ARU office in Branden Hill and he was most forthcoming with information. Now...\"\n\nHe stalled, trying to come up with the right words and failing. What exactly could he ask? What could he say without incriminating himself or others in the process? Glancing over at Shirai, he noticed she had moved in her chair, swiveling her position so she could still face him, but otherwise did not reveal any other reaction. He cleared his throat to cover his stumble, and continued.\n\n\"Reimos Mirades is, or was, a Mendaihu soul. Mind you, I'm not holding that against him, or against you for that matter. In fact, I personally know of many who made this city what it is today, thanks to their dedication and assistance with the aftermath of the Eighth. I'm sure you remember that.\"\n\n\"Yes sir, I do,\" she answered plainly. \"I'd been in beta for years, but I was finally activated January 22 the following year, soon after the nuhm'ndah were defeated. Edha Mirades made sure that I had as much information as possible.\"\n\n\"Good,\" he said. \"Then I need two questions answered. First, I need as much information as I can on _how_ they were defeated. Dig as deep as you can. Find out how they were driven back.\"\n\n\"And the second question, sir?\"\n\n\"I want you to find out how we can _keep_ them from coming back.\"\n\nFrom across the room, he could have sworn Shirai's hologram had just turned pale. He retreated back to his desk and sat down again in the span of time it took her to answer.\n\n\"Sir...\" she ventured, quietly and unevenly. \"I...can't promise an easy turnaround. There are encrypted files, secured files even I do not have access to. We — that is, edha Mirades and myself — had not expected events like those over the last few days to happen again, at least in the manner that it has.\"\n\n\"Take whatever time is necessary,\" he said. \"And keep this research as quiet as possible. The last thing I need is the unending whine of financial institutions cashing in.\"\n\nShirai nodded and smiled again. \"Levity appreciated, sir. I understand. I shall report to you when research is complete.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Shirai,\" he said, grinning back at her. \"I believe that is all for now. I will call for you if I need anything else.\"\n\n\"Of course, sir. Select private recording complete. Wideband recording commences. Until next time, sir.\" She blinked at him, smiled, and disappeared, leaving him alone in his office.\n\nCHAPTER FIFTEEN\n\n_Alien Relations Unit, Branden Hill HQ_\n\n\"Too busy this morning,\" Poe mumbled, more to himself than to Caren. He attempted to leave the curb and pull into traffic in what felt like slow motion, stopping and starting and getting nowhere. She watched him look over his shoulder and out the open window, watching for an opening in the steady stream of cars. She could sense the tension welling up between his shoulders and in his hands as he gripped the wheel. She tried to sense his emotions for something deeper, but found nothing. As usual, they were well buried and kept far away from everyone.\n\n\"Didn't get much sleep last night?\" she asked.\n\n\"Huh?\" He glanced at her, distracted by the cars speeding by. \"Oh — uh, yeah. I'm only a few blocks from St. Patrick's as it is. Just couldn't relax.\"\n\n\"I'm surprised they let you stay there, considering the proximity.\" With a sharp pull at the wheel and a jab at the accelerator, Poe's car lurched quickly and awkwardly into the stream of traffic. Caren grabbed at the door handle and swayed in her seat. She was tempted to complain but let it go.\n\n\"I was just outside the zone,\" he said with a hint of annoyance. \"The next cross street is the farthest we can go. Which means a slight detour to work this morning. Oh, that reminds me: we're meeting Kai and Ashan over at Yoshi's Diner after we punch in.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" She felt a quick pang of excitement. \"Have they found something?\"\n\n\"You know...\" Poe trailed off, and dug into his inside jacket pocket. He pulled out his cigarette pack and pulled one out with his teeth. \"I, um...you know, I'm not sure. I actually called this meeting myself. We're not getting anywhere looking for Nehalé by using the normal routes.\" He lit the cigarette and forced a plume of smoke out the open window. \"I believe we're looking at this from the wrong angle.\"\n\nCaren frowned at him, confused at his remark. She unreeled a thin strand towards him to read what he might be thinking...and suddenly stopped, realizing what she was doing. _A Mendaihu trait_ , she thought, with a sudden burst of misplaced pride. _Mendaihu...Denni and I are Mendaihu._ Turning to him again, she reached out again...and felt determination. He'd gotten a bead on an intriguing idea and he wasn't about to let anything distract him from it.\n\n\"Wrong angle?\" she said. \"The guy nearly brainwashed the entire Main Street Sector, Poe. How wrong can it be?\"\n\nHe grinned at the off-color joke. \"Yeah, he did do that, didn't he? But the reason for it was not an offensive strike against the Shenaihu...\"\n\n\"I think we've figured that out already,\" she interjected.\n\n\"...but it wasn't necessarily a defensive move either. It was literally a wake-up call.\" He paused, taking another drag. \"And have you noticed that Kai and Ashan haven't said anything about finding Nehalé yet?\"\n\nShe waved a flat hand at him. \"Wait a minute. Don't change the subject, Alec. What do you mean, a wake-up call? You mean the awakening ritual?\"\n\n\"Yes, Caren, I do mean the Awakening Ritual, capital letters. The Awakening of the One of All Sacred. I'm convinced the Ninth is here now.\" Anger emanated from Poe's aura, though not directed at her. \"A sequence, really. Part of a bigger, grander plan involving the One. I aim to have Kai and her brother tell me what that plan might be.\"\n\nGoddess...was he thinking the worst possible outcome? \"A sequence? Poe, you can't –\"\n\nHe interrupted her, his anger barely held back. \"For all intents and purposes, Caren, I am seeing it as such, despite what Farraway and everyone else has said. We can't rule it out.\"\n\nShe shivered; his aura had radiated such negativity it pushed against her own defenses...she'd never seen him this furious. \"I _know_ that, Alec,\" she pushed back, perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. \"No need to force it down my throat. You think I haven't thought that myself?\" She turned away and stared out the passenger window to cool off. Damn him...why was he letting his anger get the best of him so much lately? And the most frustrating thing was that he was right. She'd been leaning towards another Embodiment as well, but she dared not put it on the table just yet. It would just make everything more confusing. And more to the point, with all those people out there, newly awakened, including herself and her sister...she didn't want to think about it right now.\n\nHe broke the silence a minute later with a loud sigh of resignation. \"I'm just saying...\" he said, his voice much quieter. \"It's like I said, this is bordering on a Crimson-Null Foundation case, Caren. The bigger this gets, the more there's a chance Jack Priestley or some other CNF member is going to take this case from under us.\"\n\n\"I know,\" she said.\n\n\"Who knows what would happen once they got a hold of it. Added to the fact that both you and I have some kind of tie to this. Take it away, and it would kill us emotionally and spiritually.\"\n\nShe hid a shiver _._ \"That's exactly what I was thinking, Poe.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well...\"\n\nThey stayed quiet for a long while after that, each annoyed for their own reasons. Poe snuffed out the cigarette and turned the car onto a side street going east, and then caught Krieger Avenue going south, taking the more circuitous route to ARU Headquarters. During the early part of the day the thoroughfares of Bridgetown somehow looked cleaner and safer, even on an overcast day like today, as if each citizen looked out for those around them. Caren felt the guarded peace that hung above the city like a vast dome. It felt like a city preparing for a war that would be hard won, but won nonetheless.\n\n\"Sorry,\" she said quietly, after they had passed the McCleever Street intersection, their halfway point. \"Didn't mean to blow up on you back there.\"\n\n\"That's okay,\" Poe said, giving her a smirk. \"I started it.\"\n\nShe laughed and punched him on the arm. \"Jerk! I'm serious. Listen, Denni...umm...\" She trailed off.\n\nPoe glanced at her for a long moment, then back at the road. \"What about her? Something wrong?\"\n\n\"No, nothing wrong. Just...\" She felt stupid for bringing it up, and even more like an idiot for wanting to drop it. \"She's exhibiting signs of Mendaihu sensitivity.\"\n\nShe was completely surprised by Poe's lack of response. He glanced at her again, and then back at the road. He had no reaction to that. No surprise, no elation, no concern. Nothing at all. \"What?\" she frowned. \"What's that look about?\"\n\n\"How long has it been since it started?\" he asked.\n\n\"Umm...it may have started last night,\" she said. \"As far as I know, it started last night...she was sensing voices. I heard them myself later on, after the both of us went to sleep. Don't know who they were, but they sounded damn familiar.\"\n\nPoe paused before answering. \"You heard them too?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Why —\" She quickly stopped, covering her mouth with her hand. She cursed inwardly, realizing what she had just done; she had never told him she also had these abilities. She'd never shared any of that with him...she never meant to, having denied herself the truth for so long. He had suspected for a long while that she had inherited these traits from her parents, but had never shown them. Now he knew for certain.\n\n\"Poe...\" she whispered. \"I'm sorry. I didn't mean —\"\n\n\"What's there to be sorry about?\" he growled. \"So you and Denni have successfully inherited your parents' traits. Why should you be sorry about that? And it's certainly nothing to hide, least of all from me.\"\n\nWhere the hell was that anger coming from? \"I'm not sorry about that, Poe,\" she said, glaring at him. \"To be honest, I'm relieved that it's finally out in the open, between me and Denni, and between you and me. Knowing that I've inherited something so important from my parents is one thing. I'm finally accepting it myself, okay? That's why I never told you. But now that both Denni and I...Poe, you've no idea how good it is to know that.\"\n\nPoe nodded slowly as he turned the car west onto Baird Avenue, at last the home stretch to the ARU Headquarters. She watched him for a second, though not daring to sense anything else from him, lest he know she was doing so. Instead she reached out her hand and laid it on his forearm.\n\n\"Look, I'm sorry if this bothers you, Poe,\" she said softly. \"I never meant to keep it from you like that.\"\n\nThe corner of his mouth curled up into an uneven smile. He let out a short laugh, and touched her hand. \"No,\" he said, grinning. \"I should apologize for being the bratty kid here. I admit it, Caren. You're right. Maybe I'm jealous, I don't know...\" He reached into his jacket pocket for his cigarettes, thought better of it, and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. \"Seriously, nyhnd'aladh. I do apologize for that little outburst. I don't know why I do it...I've been way too defensive lately, it's even bothering me.\"\n\nRelieved, she squeezed his arm before letting go. \"So...?\"\n\n\"So I'm thinking...\" He glanced in the rearview mirror then at her, before returning to the traffic ahead. ARU lay a half-mile away; she saw its cream-colored polycrete peeking above the other buildings of Branden Hill. \"So I'm _wondering_ , that is, about the scope of your abilities. I know it's all new to you and Denni and everything, but I'm just curious if you're able to, well. See the city like Ashan and Kai can.\"\n\nShe let out a quick laugh. \"You've got to be kidding, Poe. I'm not that good.\"\n\n\"Actually, I'm not,\" he said. \"When they stepped into that other reality, however you want to call it...it just felt so damned easy to them, like second nature. I know, they've got years of practice and their genes are closer to Meraladhza than ours, but still...how hard can it really be?\"\n\nShe thought about that question, and why he had asked it. Was he planning something? Or was he merely curious? \"I really don't know. I haven't tried,\" she offered. \"I wouldn't know how. One needs to be tested and trained for it, it's not something you can pick up overnight. I know that my parents were tested. Their results came up negative — neither of them could step, not without assistance. Except...\" _Except Dad_ did _jump,_ she added to herself. _Mum couldn't. Or wouldn't...?_ \"Except they could do nearly everything else,\" she finished. \"Soulhealing, reading, hearing, but they couldn't Lightwalk.\"\n\nHe nodded, letting that sink in. \"Would you be interested in being tested?\"\n\nShe blinked, surprised that it had never crossed her mind. \"I'd have to think about it.\"\n\nHe hastily amended his question. \"I understand if you don't want to, or if you think Denni...?\"\n\n\"If I were tested, no question I'd have Denni tested as well,\" she said. \"It would be a mutual decision. I can't see a reason why I wouldn't want to include her.\"\n\nPoe nodded quietly, and drove the last few blocks towards the ARU building. Crossing the last intersection, Ormand Street, he stole a glance past Caren, northward towards his own neighborhood. Nearly four miles away, nestled in between the offices of southern McCleever District and Branden Hill's marketplaces, was St. Patrick's Church. Caren could see the hurt and the confusion on his face. It went beyond their sometimes barbed words this morning, she knew that much. Something last night bothered him, something beyond the awakening ritual and the church attack. It was something inside him, something so intensely personal it invaded his everyday life, keeping its presence known somewhere in the background and reasserting itself at the most inopportune times. She knew well enough not to try sensing anything from him for the time being; it felt like an invasion of his privacy. All she could do was be patient with him and hope he was in a lighter mood once they met at Yoshi's up the street.\n\nIn the back of her mind, though, she had already made the decision, the one she had made last night as she spoke within to Denni as she slept. She _would_ be tested. She _would_ bring Denni to be tested.\n\nIt was too important not to.\n\n\"...and here we are,\" he said with no emotion as he pulled the car into the front driveway and into the side parking lot. \"The wondrous world of the Ay Are Zoo.\"\n\n\"Yeehaw,\" Caren said with an equal lack of excitement. \"Punch me in, will you? I'll be up in a moment. I have something I have to do first.\"\n\n\"Sure thing,\" he said, knowing well enough not to ask.\n\n*\n\nKai dreaded the thought of having this conversation with Caren and Alec, and she was sure Ashan felt the same way, but at this point, not having it at all would have made even less sense. As she and Ashan drove the circuitous route to Branden Hill District by way of one of the outer arterials, then eastward to ARU Headquarters, she found herself wishing she didn't have to put the two through this, especially Alec. He was not Mendaihu — though he sometimes acted exactly like one — and he was unfamiliar with the ways of the Spirit. But that wasn't entirely true, either. He was no less familiar with the One of All Sacred than anyone else, and the phrasing Mendaihu kin used to describe those uninitiated sounded elitist. She knew from the Mendaihu _hear_ that it was not meant that way, yet each individual's _speak_ contained their own nuances that could still be taken any number of ways. She could _speak_ as honestly and spiritually as possible, yet there was always the chance someone would misinterpret her words. Such was the way of the Anjshé language. She only hoped Alec would understand.\n\n\"You are intrigued by him,\" Ashan said, cutting the near-silence inside the car as he drove. \"Aren't you?\"\n\nKai felt her face redden unexpectedly. She lifted a hand to hide it, but thought better of it. If she were to be honest with anyone, it would first be with her brother. \"I admit there is an attraction, Ashan,\" she said, a hint of a smile darting across her face. \"His spirit is haunted, yet it seems so...\" she stopped, searching for the right words.\n\n\"Trisandi?\" Ashan mused.\n\nKai's eyes widened. Trisandi! That had not occurred to her at all! Perhaps he was what the human race sometimes quaintly referred to as an old soul, wise beyond his years and not entirely comfortable with such wisdom. An old soul that was more ancient than it appeared. If his spirit were in fact from their ancient and shared homeworld of Trisanda, he could...he _would_ be more important to the Awakening than anyone would have expected. She did not answer to Ashan's question, continuing where she had left off instead.\n\n\"I think he understands more of the Awakening than he lets on. He even hides it from himself at times. There's something in his aura that makes me think that he's still afraid to confront it.\"\n\nAshan nodded quietly.\n\n_He is more than human, Akaina,_ he said within. _Yet he is no less an ancestor of Trisanda than you or I. Follow what your spirit sings to you, Akaina._\n\nShe nodded in return.\n\n\"And so...\" he started, and let out a grumble. Clearly he wasn't looking forward to this meeting either, but for very different reasons. \"And so the students begin their studies, eichi. It is time for Alec and Caren to know the full truth.\"\n\n\"Yes, but what truth, Ashan? Of their histories? Of their destinies? Of their True Selves?\"\n\nAshan gave her a weak smile. \"Most of those questions they're capable of answering by themselves. Nehalé's ritual did affect them, after all. I could tell during our last meeting. No, the truth we tell them is this: _dehndarra Né hra nyhndah_. We tell them that the only truth is their own, the truth they find within themselves.\"\n\nKai winced at him. \"They won't know where to begin!\"\n\n\"That is why we are here,\" he added coldly. \"We are here to set them off on their road. From there on in, they're on their own.\"\n\n\"But —\"\n\nAshan glared at her. \"They're on their own, Kai. There is no other way.\"\n\n\"Eyes forward!\" Kai yelped, pointing ahead.\n\nHe turned away, shaking his head. \"We can't coddle them, Kai. You know that. We've gone over this already. You can show him who he truly is...but it's up to him to perceive it...and to embrace it or withdraw from it.\"\n\nGoddess...she hated it when he talked down to her, doubly so when he drove recklessly in the process! She closed her eyes tight and shook her head. \"You think he's figured it out, don't you,\" she said quietly.\n\nAshan pulled up to a stoplight and turned to her again. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Alec Poe. You're the one who's afraid, aren't you?\"\n\n\"I'm not afraid,\" he said defensively. \"Concerned, but not afraid.\"\n\n\"Of course you're concerned!\" she exclaimed. \"But he's been Awakened, Ashan, you just said it yourself. They've all been affected in some way...everyone in that conference room, in one way or another.\"\n\n\"So what's your point?\" he asked, and hit the accelerator a little too quickly as the light changed to green.\n\nKai sighed, tiring of this game. _He is a reality seer, Ashan,_ she said to him from within. _One of the strongest and most feared. He is Mendaihu Gharra. If he is not trained soon, there is a chance he could become kiralla...or nuhm'ndah._\n\n\"One of the faithless...?\" Ashan said aloud. \"There's no possible —\"\n\n\"It is possible,\" she said, touches of anger and sadness in her voice. \"The nuhm'ndah are not exclusively Shenaihu or Mendaihu, you should know that.\"\n\n\"Of course I do,\" he said, equally angered. \"But...I just didn't think Alec Poe, of all people...\"\n\n_Cho-nyhndah,_ she said.\n\nAshan did not answer right away. He drove in silence for quite a long time, at least until they made the last few miles to the public parking garage near the ARU building.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" he said eventually. All the tension had drained from his voice.\n\n\"I'm positive,\" she said. \"I just need proof. I'll bring him into the Light again today.\"\n\n\"Be careful,\" he said. He reached out a hand and touched her on the arm.\n\n\"I will.\"\n\n*\n\nPoe stood close to the ARU lobby entrance, squinting at the clouds and hoping the rainstorm would go south of the city and out to sea. He took a drag off his third cigarette of the day, mentally cursing himself for being the smokestack that he was, and wondered why he had been so rough on Caren on the drive in. Her admission of being Mendaihu had come as a bit of a surprise, but his first initial reaction...why had he exploded like that?\n\nHe remembered what Ashan had said about emotions, and he now found himself overly self-conscious of his actions towards others, especially with Caren. _Humans, on the surface, show reactive emotions quicker than true emotions,_ he had said. Were Meraladians purer in emotion than their distant kin? Or was it simply that they had a firmer grasp on how they felt spiritually?\n\n\"You're not going to get answers looking in the clouds,\" he said aloud, took the last drag from his cigarette and threw it away. He turned and went inside, fighting his way through the bustle of morning shift officers coming in, late shift officers going out, and those that held early morning appointments upstairs.\n\nHe began heading towards the elevator when he stopped in midstride. A young businessman stood between two of the doors, leaning up against the wall and fiddling with the netwatch on his wrist. The man looked up just as he approached, and gave him a wide smile. Matthew Davison blended in so perfectly with the other civilians in the foyer that no one else had even bothered notice him.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing here?\" he said. He glanced at the fine cut of his suit and the professional slick-back-in-ponytail look of his hair. \"Look at you in that get-up. You could pass for a KJS programmer, Matt.\"\n\n\"Very droll, Poe,\" he said in his recognizable gravelly voice. \"Do you have time and a private place to talk?\"\n\nPoe caught the anticipation in his voice and nodded. They had an hour or so to kill, and had him signed in as a guest. It didn't occur to Poe until they were in the elevator that Matthew, ever the resourceful hacker, had given the lobby security a fake identification.\n\nCaren was already in the office and talking with Denni via comm when they'd arrived. Surprised and distracted by Matthew's presence, she finished her call and continued staring at him. It wasn't often that the kid visited them here, and she'd never seen him looking this handsome in a tailored Jake Byrne suit. \"Goddess, Matthew,\" she smiled. \"If you weren't such a liability and so damn young, I'd say you look A-one sexy in that get-up.\"\n\nMatthew nodded graciously. \"Taftika, Ms. Johnson, but alas, I am not here to impress. I merely wish to pass on some pertinent information regarding your case.\"\n\n\"By all means,\" Poe said, amused by the charm he was so obviously pouring on. It was so like him to put on an act when the situation was serious. \"Have a seat, kid. What do you have for us?\"\n\nMatthew took Poe's desk chair. He placed both hands upon the desk and began rigidly tapping his thumbs together in slow, measured beats. \"I should say this is more a 'heads-up' than a lead,\" he said evenly. \"Your case, as I'm sure you've guessed, is being watched over like Tigua Space Station watching the Tower. Governor Rieflin has a keen interest in it as well.\"\n\nPoe frowned at him. \"It would only make sense, considering.\"\n\nMatthew waved a finger in the air. \"Yes, and I would have thought that as well...but I believe there's something more. I'm not completely sure what it is yet, and to tell the truth, Governor Rieflin's not sure either.\"\n\nPoe bit his lip and glanced at Caren. She looked back at him with a cocked eyebrow, her patience slowly fading. He grabbed another chair and sat down next to her. \"So what are you saying?\"\n\n\"He's not entirely convinced the Tower was the main target, and that's worrying.\"\n\n\"Of course it wasn't,\" he frowned. \"Rieflin might be a pushover of a governor, but he's not stupid.\"\n\n\"Yes, but now he's obsessed with finding the Shenaihu behind the hrrah-sehdhyn.\"\n\nHe paused before answering. That could certainly cause more problems for the ARU down the line. \"Hmm. I see your point. He's not planning to do something rash, is he?\"\n\nMatthew waved a hand at them. \"Let me reword that. I think he's beginning to figure out who is behind them is what I meant to say. He has no proof, but his heart is in the right place. His main concern, or should I say his main annoyance, is commerce. He's getting hit from all sides by the corporations in town, and they won't let go until they have answers.\n\n\"So I did a little homework and came up with something interesting: EdenTree, our ubiquitous technological monster, has been the most vocal in its monetary concern, but it has been the least affected, both monetarily and physically, by the ritual or by yesterday's attacks. EdenTree is so much an anchor in the Crimson-Null Foundation that if the Earth were to disappear tomorrow, they would be, if you'll pardon the pun, the sole survivors. Economically and physically.\"\n\n\"So what does this have to do with Rieflin?\" Caren asked.\n\nMatthew smirked at her. \"Think about it, Miss Johnson. If you were _that_ vocal about something that trivial...\"\n\n\"Theatrics,\" she answered.\n\n\"Precisely. And I think there's a chance the governor knows that, or will be coming to that conclusion very soon. And while we're at it, he's already taken the next step — he's contacted Shirai, the AI for the Mirades Tower, and there's a very good chance he's going to try to take down the Shenaihu himself.\"\n\n\"How do you know this?\" Poe asked.\n\nMatthew looked at him with the smile of a child showing off all his toys to the delight and jealousy of his peers. \"Simple. Shirai and I have been in frequent contact.\"\n\nPoe frowned at him, startled by his revelation. It was so off the cuff that it derailed his thoughts completely. And yet, it made a perverted kind of sense. \"Wait. How is that possible? Shirai's been around for at least two decades, and she's been trying to catch you ever since you restarted Vigil ten years ago.\"\n\n\"And who do you think has been helping me all this time? I wouldn't have been able to do half of what I do without her, you know. But what's more important here, Poe, is that Rieflin is planning on ending the Shenaihu threat his own way. Which is all well and good, but...\"\n\nCaren leaned forward, as if anticipating the answer. \"...but?\"\n\n\"...but, truth be told, I don't think that's a good idea at all.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Poe asked. Caren worked her jaw to answer him, but stopped herself at the last second and let Matthew talk instead.\n\n\"First of all, Poe, think of the spiritual end of it. Yin and yang. Everything has a corresponding balance. One magnet does nothing until you attract it or repel it using the polarities of another magnet. Take away one and the other ceases to have any valid _raison d'etre_ at all.\" Matthew crossed his arms, leaned back in the chair and stared at him, waiting for a response.\n\nPoe glanced at Caren and got nothing except for a quick darting of her eyes at him. She was expecting him to answer to this conversation that had suddenly made a discomforting turn. He started softly, talking more to himself than to Matthew or Caren. \"Without the Shenaihu, the Mendaihu are incomplete...and we are all left in space...\" He stopped quickly, shaking his hand in the air. There was a remembrance poem out there, a famous one that he couldn't quite recall at the moment, and it was about this very situation. \"No, wait a minute. That's not quite it, is it? Why can't I see this...?\"\n\nMatthew leaned forward and gripped Poe's arm. Dark brown narrowed eyes pierced into his through those black-rimmed glasses, unblinking and steady. \"You're close, Poe,\" he said, just above a whisper. \"Think of the Waterfront. Why are all the Mendaihu joining forces there? Surely it's not a mass divination or ritual service, is it? Can't be. Put the pieces together, Poe. You've got them all in front of you.\"\n\nPoe shuddered and spoke in the confines of the space between them. \"A _shimshiya_? No...we already ruled that out. It's not an old bitter rivalry. It's bigger than that. And this is more than just another Embodiment, isn't it?\"\n\nIncredulously, Matthew smiled and suddenly released his arm. He moved away, chuckling to himself. \"There's that 'Embodiment' talk again,\" he said, taking his seat. \"I've been hearing that everywhere since the awakening ritual. Trust me, Poe. It may or may not be more violent than the season of the Eight, but it's certainly more intense. Ask your Mendaihu contacts when you meet them, Poe. I think your meeting is in twenty minutes.\" He concluded by clasping his hands on the desk again, tapping his thumbs. This time there was a wide grin on his face.\n\nCaren growled at him. \"How the hell did you know...?\"\n\nAnother chuckle escaped him. \"Well now, we wouldn't be called Vigil if we weren't paying attention, would we?\"\n\nCHAPTER SIXTEEN\n\n_Moulding Warehouse, Waterfront District_\n\nNehalé Usarai stood on the roof of Moulding Warehouse, looking at the sky over the Mirades Tower. He saw the world with the veil lifted, watching the sea of souls converge with the skyscrapers and BMPD helicopters. There was a strange peacefulness in watching the two realities intermingle like that, the physical and technological with the spiritual. They were never quite aware of one another on a conscious level, yet each moved in symbiotic fashion, one held aloft by the other.\n\nHe watched and listened for what seemed like hours. The Sprawl's music — the steady, ominous rush of human spirit waves crashing against the shores of the land — echoed through his own soul; the sound of unguarded tension and unaccepted fear rattled through the city, engulfing everyone and everything. His psychic blast and the hrrah-sehdhyn response had awakened many in the past few days, though still an insignificant number compared to the full body of Shenaihu now amassing in the area. He would need more, thousands more, if his instincts were correct.\n\nThis thought disturbed his meditative state, and he was pulled back into the noisy reality of Bridgetown and the Waterfront District. Cars trudged westward down McCleever Street towards the I-91 freeway a few miles distant, escaping Sculler's Crossing and all the shoreline shops and office parks. Those who actually lived in this sector relied on public transit instead. This made the area a little quieter and less congested than usual, and that was one of the reasons he'd chosen this warehouse as a base of operations.\n\nThe other was the vibe. The people of West McCleever and the Waterfront were the most spiritual and the least violent in all the Bridgetown districts, despite their history. He knew a great many of them through his charity work, and others through their spirit signature. They talked, word got around, and he was a familiar and welcome face. He loved being a part of this community, helping it spiritually any way he could. Their strong personal faith and sense of extended family amazed him every day, from the shelters to the education centers. Their lives were strengthened by their fierce pride in refusing to give up. These were the souls whose song he'd heard so strongly these past few hours, crying out almost immediately after Nehalé had escaped St. Patrick's Church. His departure had been aimless other than finding shelter, but they had called him here, hearts open wide, letting him heal.\n\nNehalé, the voice said, coming from somewhere behind him.\n\nHe turned to see Anando Shalei, the young university student from the eastern end of the McCleever District, standing behind him, close to the roof access door. He was someone who had grown up in one of the hardest neighborhoods of Bridgetown and emerged an intelligent Meraladian adult. His appearance hid his intellect and made him look at least five years younger than he actually was, with ill-fitting jacker clothes and short, unkempt faded-blonde hair. He must be in his mid-twenties now, and the fashion actually looked a bit silly on him, but he must have had a reason for it. He wasn't about to judge.\n\n\"Somfei, Nehalé,\" Anando smiled. \"It's been a while.\"\n\n\"Anando, my friend,\" he replied, cutting the distance between them. He opened his arms and embraced him, brother in Light that he was. \"It's wonderful to see you. What brings you here? Better question, how did you find me?\"\n\nAnando laughed, scratching the back of his neck in self-conscious amusement. \"Your essence was the first one I ever memorized, sehnadha. It wasn't particularly hard, once I got into the neighborhood. Just a matter of sneaking into the warehouse unnoticed.\"\n\n\"You've got better things to do in your life than breaking and entering,\" he laughed.\n\n\"I certainly do,\" Anando said soberly. \"I've been listening, Nehalé. To the souls, awakened and otherwise. Everyone's feeling a little tense, ever since the Awakening. Your followers wish for guidance.\"\n\nNehalé's smile faded slowly as he contemplated that. Followers. He had merely opened their eyes, but they were looking upon him as a leader already. Warrior of the One he may be, or even Prophet, but this was far beyond his capabilities, let alone his wishes. He was awakening them, opening their eyes! They needed teachers, but the Mendaihu _sehndayen-ne_ of this city could not handle this many people in a short amount of time. Unless the One of All Sacred awakened...he shivered at that thought. To assume such a task of the One was nothing short of blasphemous! No, he would have to find the teachers of this city. Briefly, he felt the guilt of releasing them into the Gharné world without showing them the way...but there was little he could do now. So many balances to maintain. \"They are not my followers, any more than I am their leader, Anando. They need to understand that. I may give them opportunities, but they are rulers of their own fate.\"\n\n\"True,\" the young man said, though not fully convinced. \"But that just creates chaos. We must find The One of All Sacred in order to reset the balance between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu.\"\n\n\"Then I am at a loss. I did what I could to maintain the balance of power, Anando. But the Shenaihu are responding in a much more dangerous fashion than I'd feared.\"\n\nAnando crossed his arms at him. \"Do not confess to me, sehnadha. But if we end up with another season of war, you have every right to be worried.\" He reached a hand out to him and laid it on his shoulder, grasping it. \"Such is fate, my dear friend, but we have faith. I am sure the One is alive and well...\"\n\nNehalé whirled at him, eyes wide. \"The One has not fully awakened, Anando! Don't you see? Just as the Elders taught us: Without the One of All Sacred there is no balance, and all is mere chaos. No one knows where the One is or how she is to be awakened!\" He turned away and returned to the roof's edge, frustrated. \"Anando, I beg you to understand why I must continue to awaken these souls. Do you?\"\n\nThe silence between them lasted long enough for Nehalé to calm down, his eyes fixed on the intersection down below. The surge of cars had abated somewhat, the nervous energy of drivers dissipating into the air, adding to his relief.\n\nI do understand, Nehalé, Anando said from within. And I believe I do know where she is.\n\nNehalé turned and stared at him. \"What?\"\n\n\"I'm not exactly sure of the location,\" he said quickly, fumbling his words. He was caught between wanting to explain everything and reveal nothing. \"I've met her sister,\" he said quietly. \"I've known her from elsewhere. Her name is Karinna, and she's...she used to be someone I knew, a long time ago. Maybe in a previous time, I think. She's a Protector...an extremely strong one, at that. She has the Shalei spirit within her...as does the One.\"\n\nHis shoulders dropped in shock. Why hadn't Anando told him earlier? \"You...you talked to the One?\"\n\nAnando waved his hands quickly. \"No. I talked with Karinna. She remembers me. She remembers me as well, though neither of us quite know the exact time right now.\"\n\nHe frowned at him. \"She's a Trisandi soul, then?\"\n\nAnando nodded. \"If she can Lightwalk as easily as she did in her lumisha dea, she must be. I...I looked her up the other day as well, and she's also an ARU officer. A Mendaihu Gharra, Nehalé! A World Protector! Do you know what this means?\"\n\nHe certainly did know, and it shook him to his core. It meant that the One of All Sacred was a Trisandi soul. A pure soul from the homeworld, neither a Mannaki nor a Meraladian. Of all the Embodiments of the One on this planet...none had ever been Trisandi.\n\nThis was something even Nehalé hadn't foreseen.\n\n\"Do you know her name? The name of the One?\"\n\nDenysia, Anando said, inner voice quieter than a whisper. Denysia Shalei si Emmadha si Dhumélis. Pure Trisandi spirit through three clan ascensions, Nehalé.\n\n\"Goddess...\" Nehalé whispered, awed by the reality and the miracle of it all.\n\nNeither spoke again for quite some time. They stood side by side, leaning over the railing and watching the traffic below. Still stunned by Anando's news, Nehalé could not hold a thought, except that he knew...tomorrow, or in the next few days, he would meet her for the first time. The One of All Sacred!\n\nNehalé turned to say something, but Anando had already stepped away, the access door still ajar. The kid was already downstairs making plans for the deserted warehouse for him, taking mental notes and measurements for the near future. He smiled, an unexpected reaction to the situation and the choices he now had to make. Perhaps he was a Prophet after all...the thought of it humored him, to expect an unassuming Meraladian charity worker to be the one to open up Gharné eyes to a Universal Truth.\n\nAnando, he said within himself, unsure if the kid still heard him. Send the sisters here, to the warehouse, if you can.\n\n*\n\n\"Surely you'll let them in, Nehalé,\" Anando said. \"The main floor is certainly large enough to hold them. Rain should be coming by this afternoon.\"\n\nNehalé stood in the supervisor's office overlooking the floor, arms crossed and grumbling. The crowds outside had amassed to nearly five thousand people, and more were going to come before day's end. They were flocking to him for answers he did not have. He had expected their presence, even before the Awakening, when it had all been just a long-planned idea. But now that this moment was here, he unsuccessfully wished it away. He was a soulsenser and a soulhealer, not a savior or a prophet. Those were not his roles as a Mendaihu. He was not their leader or their teacher.\n\n\"I know I should,\" he responded. \"Though I'm still unsure if the floor can handle such a number.\"\n\n\"Five thousand?\" Anando laughed. \"Trust me, this place is solid enough.\"\n\nAnando was blissfully optimistic for such a young Mendaihu, a fact Nehalé kept in mind when talking to him. It was a trait that had gotten Nehalé himself in trouble more than enough times when he was that age, when he'd confused optimism with plain ignorance. Anando, however, had traded ignorance with intelligence long ago on the hard streets of McCleever Sector, when he gave up the street life and followed his Mendaihu fate. His awakening four years ago had a profound effect on the both of them; Nehalé had found him alone, shivering in a forgotten alleyway not too far from this warehouse, completely lost physically and spiritually. He'd taken the kid in and taught him all he could, and before long, he'd come to see Anando as a younger brother, one he could be proud of. During the course of the next few years he saw the kid enroll at Bridgetown University and excel; he was now making plans to join the Mendaihu Division of the ARU. That was still down the road, but for now he was happy enough just to help Nehalé care for those less fortunate that dwelled in the Waterfront and McCleever Districts. He'd considered it an apprenticeship that was well worth it. They'd worked together ever since, up until about five months ago, when Anando had chosen to take a soulsearching break. He'd vanished from the city soon after, but he'd left a note with Nehalé, explaining that he'd return when the time was right.\n\nTo see him today was very much a mixed blessing. He was excited to see his good friend again, and he appreciated the help offered that he would no doubt need, but at the same time he couldn't help but worry about Anando's eternal optimism. There were just too many uncertainties at this time, and he could not afford ignorance, especially at this point in time.\n\n\"Very well,\" he said and theatrically waved his hands in the air. He flashed him a quick smile and nodded. \"Let them in.\"\n\nAnando stood there for a moment, looking at him. \"Edha Usarai,\" he said. \"What's really bothering you? If you think you're playing the reluctant hero here, I'm afraid to inform you that there are more key players here than can fit on the marquee.\" Nehalé frowned at him, not quite comprehending. \"You're just a part of a larger play,\" Anando continued. \"You may think you have an important role, but it's actually just a bit part.\"\n\nNehalé caught the Shakespearean reference but asked him to elaborate.\n\nAnando smirked. \"You've awakened the One of All Sacred, my dear friend. You were the Mendaihu that let the Spirit of the One stir out of its womb. Your part is done here. You've completed your quest. What I'm saying is that these people outside _need_ you. They're not looking for another deity to follow. They're not looking for a...a priest or even a religious man at all. They're looking for a sehndayen-ne. Someone who knows what the One of All Sacred means to them. They're here because you know what the One can do, what she can bring to everyone here.\"\n\nHe nodded, unnerved by how right the kid was. He knew this obstinate fear was little more than fear itself, his unwillingness to be in charge of such a large following. He understood that this fear was also little more than the lack of faith he had in himself, even when his faith in this Awakening reached far past it. He also understood that from this point on, the aftereffects of the awakening ritual were out of his hands. Anando was right, he was indeed just another player in this performance now. He let out a small laugh as he walked with Anando out of the office and headed towards the loading bay doors.\n\n\"What about the Mendaihu agents?\" Anando asked as they descended the steps. \"Surely they must know we're here by now.\"\n\nNehalé shrugged. \"No doubt...they've already posted a security line a few blocks away, but they haven't made any moves. I wouldn't worry too much; in fact, I expect a few of them to pay us a visit very soon.\" He thought, then added, \"That is, if they've been told the whole story. Not everyone would be as understanding.\"\n\n\"No...I suppose not,\" Anando shrugged. \"What do you expect of them? The agents, I mean. Surely they know this far from being an open-shut case.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course,\" he said. His voice echoed in the vast emptiness of the warehouse. All Nehalé had to do was open up the dock doors and everyone would file in. All his prospective students, all at once. \"I'd do the same. But these two are different, aren't they, Anando? The sister of the One...she's important to this, somehow. She's important to _you_ , isn't she?\"\n\nAnando blushed, finally revealing the truth. \"She...her spirit, sehnadha. It's her Shalei spirit. I remember it from Trisanda. From when I was there, lifetimes ago.\"\n\nNehalé smiled as they approached the docks. \"Yes, you hinted as much earlier. I suppose it was a bit of coincidence, then, that you were spying on her that night?\"\n\n\"Spying?\" he laughed nervously. \"No, I was visiting. I was doing you a favor by finding out who had embodied the One. Once I recognized her spirit signature, it led me right to her. It was only by coincidence that I recognized Karinna Shalei. I ended up visiting her rather than the One that night.\"\n\nNehalé stopped quick. \"You made a spiritual connection with Karinna already?\"\n\nAnando waved his hand down to calm him. \"In the Light. I didn't drag her in there, mind you...she was already there, just floating around aimlessly. I wasn't sure if she was in her lumisha dea or what. But I bet she didn't even know where she was until I spoke with her. I just opened her eyes a little bit. Just enough for her to recognize a few things, but not enough to overwhelm her.\"\n\n\"Anando...\" Nehalé said, shaking his head. They stopped at a bank of switches and knobs, bolted to the wall between a dock door and an emergency exit. He studied their labels as his fingers moved past them. He found the switches he wanted and placed his fingers near them. \"You know better than to invade other people's privacy,\" he continued. There was a hint of mischief in his voice.\n\n\"Of course,\" he answered, smiling. \"And I did no such thing. She sensed me first and recognized me.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" Nehalé pointed at him. \"The proof! You two are definitely _cho-shadhisi_.\"\n\nAnando laughed at him. \"Now you're just making fun of me.\"\n\nNehalé nodded. \"Yes, that I am.\" He pushed the master controls of the dock doors, all of them slowly rising at once, letting in the morning air and thousands of people. \"But I'm also telling the truth.\"\n\nCHAPTER SEVENTEEN\n\n_Elsewhere_\n\nCaren and Poe walked north on Ormand Street towards the diner soon after Matthew left. These walks had become tradition for them and she looked forward them, as it got her out of the office, and often it signaled a break in a case. She looked forward to this one in particular...if the two Mendaihu agents had been holding anything back – and she was certain they had – now was the time to get them to reveal it. As much as it irritated her, at least now she understood why they would do so. Their previous meeting at Headquarters had been fruitful and answered many questions, but they'd still held back. It wasn't until late last night, after she and Denni had come to terms with who they were, that she saw the reason for their reticence. The Mendaihu agents had wanted everyone in that cramped room to read their spirit signatures before they made any final decisions. They'd wanted to familiarize themselves with each person's unique signature, know its strengths and its quirks, see how each person interacted with the other, and if they were up to this task.\n\nShe could only wonder what they'd made of her own haphazard soul.\n\n\"Poe?\" she said.\n\nHe turned to her, hands thrust in his pockets. \"What's up?\"\n\n\"Odd question.\"\n\nHe smirked. \"As opposed to...?\"\n\nShe playfully nudged him with her elbow. \"I'm serious. Did we ever find any evidence of Shenaihu action that prompted Nehalé's ritual? I mean, was there any reason for it in the first place, regardless of its intended motive?\"\n\nPoe slowed up his stride as he frowned into the air, and after a few more steps he came to a complete halt. \"Nothing on Matt's data crystal about any Shenaihu uprising that I could find. But the motive still makes sense. Nehalé must be convinced there's a Shenaihu offensive out there somewhere...and I'm not entirely convinced there isn't one...but we've yet to find it.\"\n\nCaren pulled the collar of her uniform closer around her neck, as an unexpected breeze rushed past them. Goddess, it was unseasonably cold this morning! \"Okay,\" she said. \"What about incidents in other provinces? Do you think Kai and Ashan would have heard anything about NewCanta or Metronewyork or even New Boston?\"\n\nPoe shrugged, pulling at his own collar. \"No harm in asking.\" He began walking again, and turned right onto Leonard Street. The crosswind picked up, pushing the collar of his overcoat into his chin. With a shrug of the shoulders, he readjusted it and held it close to his throat. \"I'll add it to my ever-growing list of questions.\"\n\n\"It's damn cold for September, don't you think?\" she said. \"Weird weather. So — what about EdenTree?\"\n\nPoe glanced at her. \"What about them?\"\n\n\"Alec, if Matthew risked stepping onto government property to tell us about them, then EdenTree must have something on the Shenaihu.\"\n\nHe smirked at that. \"They probably _are_ the Shenaihu.\"\n\n\"Not funny,\" she bristled.\n\nHe slowed his step again. They were already ten minutes late for the meeting. If he kept on stopping to brainstorm, at this rate they'd end up completely missing it. Caren nudged him on a second time. \"Come on, think on your feet,\" she said, stepping ahead of him. \"We're almost there.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"What if...\"\n\n\"Poe!\"\n\nHe grinned stupidly at her and caught up. \"Sorry. But now you have me thinking...I'm not saying they're all Shenaihu, but what about the executives, or maybe even the CEOs? Any chance of that being true? I mean, Janoss Miradesi and Natianos Lehanna are both on their board, and both are known followers.\"\n\n\"You're flirting with slander here.\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Just conjecture. But Matt's right, though. Why else would a company least affected by the awakening ritual make so much noise?\"\n\n_Goddess,_ she thought, pulling at her collar again. _The implications of that alone...!_ EdenTree was indeed the most ubiquitous company in the Western Terran Hemisphere, as well as a major player in the Crimson Null Foundation...they held connections to both human and Meraladian technologies dating back to the first Meraladian contact nearly three hundred years ago. And every twenty to twenty-five years there was a disturbance in the balance of Mendaihu and Shenaihu, causing another Seasonal Embodiment of the One of All Sacred, who would set things straight. Sometimes it only amounted to a quiet disagreement and a quick resolution...and sometimes it grew out of control, like the Eighth. And each time EdenTree held a part in it, whether sponsoring the peace agreements or donating time and money to the cleanup afterwards, always looking heroic in the process. She tried not to think of what Matthew may have meant about it being more _intense_ this time around.\n\n\"Okay,\" she said. \"I'll play along. Say they are the Shenaihu. That _still_ wouldn't give Nehalé a clear motive.\"\n\n\"Not completely,\" he countered. \"Perhaps the Awakening was also his way of corralling EdenTree — and thus the Shenaihu — within the ritual's perimeter while those outside took part in the Awakening Process? Maybe they were affected, maybe they weren't. But they were definitely on Nehalé's mind at the time.\"\n\nCaren growled as a fierce chill slid down her spine. \"I was afraid of that.\" Feeling both defeated and angry, she continued on towards the diner. The blinking sign for Yoshi's Diner buzzed and swayed in the wind a block away. \"Goddess, Poe,\" she said, taking his arm. \"This has to be the longest four and a half block walk I've ever taken with you.\"\n\nHe nodded graciously.\n\n*\n\n_There she is,_ Poe thought.\n\nKai watched him with interest as he held open the door to let Caren enter first. She smiled and waved, to the apparent consternation of Ashan. He looked over his shoulder at them and nodded, but his face was dark and sullen. They moved deeper into the booth, making room for them. By habit Caren took the seat closest to the front, which was next to Ashan, leaving Poe offering Kai a nervous hello as he sat down.\n\n\"Sorry we're late,\" Caren said, eyeing Poe. \"It was a bit windy out there.\"\n\nHe let Caren's good-natured joke slide. \"Again, we appreciate that you've taken the time to see us,\" he said. \"And we also appreciate the information you've given us so far. But I have quite a few more questions to ask...more personal in nature, shall we say. I'm hoping the two of you will be forthcoming.\"\n\nCaren caught the sarcasm in his voice and gave him a kick under the table.\n\nHe ignored her and continued. \"We've pretty much exhausted our end of the investigation of Nehalé Usarai. We have everything — proof of his whereabouts, witnesses, motive...we even know he's at Moulding Warehouse at this very moment. But we need to know why he did it, Ashan. Can you at least tell us that?\"\n\nAshan stared at him, long and hard, and leaned over the table. \"What are you accusing us of, Agent Poe?\" he asked.\n\nPoe had no intention of physically confronting someone who could easily harm him with just a thought, and leaned back slightly, opening his hands at him. \"I do not accuse you of anything, although it may sound as such,\" he said with equal calm. \"I'm merely asking about Nehalé's motives. We have thousands of Bridgetowners out there who were affected by the ritual, directly or indirectly, and the count is growing. Caren and I of course have theories, but come on — throw us a bone here.\"\n\n\"It's...hard to explain,\" Ashan said.\n\nPoe raised an eyebrow at him. \"Don't coddle us, _edha_ Shalei. It's doing more harm than good, and it's only serving to piss us off.\"\n\nThe toe of Caren's boot hit him squarely in the shin again. A short gasp of pain escaped his throat as she growled his name in shock. She grabbed at his hands. \"What the hell are you doing?\" she hissed.\n\n\"Getting answers,\" he responded, and turned to the Mendaihu again. \"Look, Ashan. I don't know what else we need to do here. Indoctrinate us, take us Lightwalking, give us divine inspiration, whatever the hell you need to do. We might be ARU and we might have latent Mendaihu traits, but we need to understand what the hell is going on if we're going to keep any of it under control.\"\n\n\"We have,\" Kai said timidly. \"But I agree...it hasn't been enough.\"\n\n\"Akaina...\" Ashan began, his voice just above a whisper.\n\n\"No, you said it yourself,\" she said. \"They deserve the truth.\"\n\nThey gave each other a long blank stare and Poe could only guess that they were conversing in their heads at that point, which gave him time to calm down. Suddenly aware his fingers were now clutching the edge of the table, he let go and leaned back into his seat. He looked apologetically at Caren, but she refused to acknowledge him. He had a nagging urge to light up another cigarette, but fought it off. Instead he took out a pen from his inner coat pocket and began tapping the end of it into his palm in a slow even beat. Anything to take off the edge.\n\nEventually the two Mendaihu broke their silence. Ashan took a very slow breath and turned back to him. \"Sa'im nyhnd'aladh, Agent Poe,\" he said as evenly as he could. \"I had the wrong impression of what you are trying to ask.\"\n\nPoe accepted his apology as an honest one. \"I understand, Agent Shalei,\" he said.\n\n\"This truth about the case is a hard one to bear,\" Ashan continued. \"We were concerned about your ability to grasp it.\"\n\n_Grasp the truth?_ Poe thought, anger rising again like a rush of adrenaline surging up his spine. _Does he think we're idiots?_ \"Ashan,\" he said flatly. \"If I can handle being _inside_ the Light, certainly I can handle —\"\n\n\"You are not yet aware of the changes,\" he snarled. \" _Emha_ Caren here may be to some extent, but you are not.\"\n\nPoe slammed his fist on the table, startling everyone. \"For Goddess's sake, Ashan! Just come out and _say_ what you need to tell us. I'm about done with your damned enlightenment bullshit, okay?\"\n\nAshan did not speak. Instead he studied Poe at a distance, breathing slowly but audibly. Poe met the stare and refused to turn away. He hated being pitied like this, especially by a Mendaihu! He felt like grabbing the man by the collar and throwing him across the room...though what good would that do? He exhaled, frustrated with himself again. He'd let his emotions get the best of him once more today, damn it all! Time to calm down before it got out of hand. He quelled his anger by matching that of Ashan's, until he finally looked away and let out a forced breath.\n\n_We have all been Awakened,_ Kai said from within. _You have as well._\n\nPoe shivered, the sound of her gentle voice carrying through his spirit. She had spoken _within_ him, like she had done up at the Crest. He turned to face her. \"What did you say?\"\n\nShe laid a soothing hand on his forearm. _You have Awakened, Alec. Though you do not yet understand._\n\n\"But —\"\n\nShhh. Don't be afraid. We trust each other. Have faith.\n\nHe did not feel the gentle, spiritual tug that Kai had given him at the Crest. Instead he felt his conscience sliding, his senses falling away then gathering together again, stronger and more refined. He wanted to speak and got as far as inhaling before he felt a twitch of his eyebrow and then a sickening lurch as his eyes rolled and his head fell forward.\n\n_Come,_ Kai said.\n\nThen all was Light.\n\n*\n\n_Alec!_ Caren stared in shock at the limp form of her partner. His head hung low and off to his left, his jaw slightly open and his eyes twitching. _Alec! Oh Goddess, Alec!_\n\nHe'd gone Lightwalking again, but this couldn't have been the same as last time. Lightwalkers disappear, they don't go all catatonic. Kai had pulled him in again, before he could refuse. Shock was replaced by anger, her hands balling into fists and nails digging into her palms. Poe was right...they'd been deliberately left out of the most important part of this investigation. They neglected to confirm that she and her sister had been affected by the Awakening. They held back information that could have kept Sheila and Nick from danger at the church. And now Poe was off in some elsewhere, against his own power. If she was next in line, she would not go quietly.\n\n_Calm yourself,_ Ashan said from within.\n\nCaren whirled at him, grabbed his collar. \"What the hell did she just do to him, Ashan?\" she growled. She added more pressure and pushed him up against the wall. She'd push him out the fucking window if it came to it.\n\n\"I said calm yourself!\" he said, grabbing at her arm and pushing her back.\n\nWhat the —\n\nInstantly she felt a lurch. For a second she was off balance, a wave of vertigo shaking her insides and spinning her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and cursed. She pushed hard off him and slid back into her seat. The black anger was still there, but it had receded far into the background, just out of reach, leaving her with little emotion to show save a deep yet pointless irritation. Oh, damn it! Damn it all, he'd just crossed a personal line and she was powerless to fight it now. She opened her eyes again and glared at him.\n\n\"Don't you _ever_ soulheal me again without my permission, Ashyntoya Shalei,\" she growled.\n\nHe did not offer an apology. She did not expect one, however, for he only looked at her with what had to be pity, which only irritated her more. It was a short look however, and he quickly turned to watch his sister across the table. Kai still had her hand on Poe's limp arm, and she had leaned forward to touch her forehead against his temple. She breathed slowly and evenly, her eyes shut tight. Her other arm had gone behind his back; she had begun to pull him close to cradle him in her arms.\n\nA strange wave of contentment washed over her, a reaction she knew she shouldn't have had, so soon after her anger had receded. Yet for an instant, she understood: Kai had taken him, such as an angel might take the departed soul to a higher spiritual plane, into the Light for his own protection and ultimately all of theirs as well.\n\n\"He...\" she started. Kai was right, he had been Awakened. And for some time now, though completely unaware of it, or refusing to believe it. His Spiritual Self had been brought forth from the human chains that had bound it for so long. His anger...his distance from her...his flashes of conflicting emotions...his —\n\n_Oh Goddess._ She caught her breath, staring at him. _Cho-nyhndah._ After all these years, only now had she realized. How could she have not seen his dual spirit? How often had she mistaken his inner turmoil for a cantankerous personality? His anger had always been exacting, never misplaced, and his compassion was complete but always earned. He was, despite his outer shell, the most spiritually balanced person she'd ever known.\n\n\"He...\" she started again.\n\nIt all makes so much sense!\n\n\"I...\" she said, and wilted back into her seat. \"Oh, Goddess...I had no idea, Ashyntoya...I really had no idea.\" She felt her face burning at her partner being held so close, so lovingly, by Akaina. Her love radiated so strongly and purely that she could not help but be pulled in by it herself. It was so rare that she ever felt this happy for someone. She blinked and felt her own tears falling down her cheeks. Oh, how Alec so deserved this!\n\n_You are so close to him, Karinna,_ Ashan spoke within. _You look past his Inner Self, past his dual spirit. That is why you did not see it at first. You care so deeply for him that the bond between you surpasses the ageless animosity between the Shenaihu and Mendaihu that exists to this day. You are his saving grace, Karinna._\n\n\"Oh, Alec...\" She reached out a hand and touched his, curling her fingers around his and squeezing. \"What —\" Her voice faltered; she coughed and started again. \"What's happening to him?\"\n\nHe's past the pain now.\n\n\"You can speak freely,\" she said. \"I'd rather we did.\"\n\nAshan complied. \"Kai has taken him back in again. He's on a delicate edge, one that becomes more obscure as the days go on. She is showing him his true Inner Self.\" He looked across the table at the two of them, and his features softened at the sight. He was proud of his sister for being bold enough to take him there, to that otherness, to heal his spirit. The corners of his mouth eventually turned up in a quick smile as he turned back to Caren.\n\n\"She cares for him,\" he said.\n\n\"I sense that,\" she said with a grin. She wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and turned back to him. \"So where is Nehalé Usarai, anyway?\"\n\n\"Moulding Warehouse in the Waterfront District, as you surmised,\" he said, and bowed his head. \"We can head over there once we're done here.\"\n\nShe nodded, and squeezed Poe's hand again. \"Thank you,\" she said.\n\nAshan tilted his head at her. \"For what?\"\n\n\"For protecting us. I understand now. As much...\" she let out another shaky breath. \"As much as I hate to admit it, I see we're a part of this, more than just agents working a case. We're a part of the Awakening, and whatever comes next. I haven't quite figured out how or why, but I've sensed it for a while now, and I think Poe has too. It just took us awhile to come to terms with it. You two did double duty by making sure we weren't lost in the process.\"\n\nAshan smiled warmly. \"It's our Mendaihu nature, you know that. You'd do the same for your sister.\"\n\nShe thought about that and laughed quietly. \"Yes, I suppose I would.\"\n\n*\n\nI am Awakened.\n\nI am...?\n\nI can feel you, Akaina. Where am I?\n\n...he felt the warm breeze of the otherness against his skin. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the clear air. He was sitting on an outcropping of rock at the Crest, the same area he'd come to so many times in the past. Clouds the color of soiled cotton filled the sky, a haze of distant rain showers picking up off to the west, just past the outpost mountain ranges. From this view he could see the storm making its way towards the center of the city, its arrival imminent. Over the ocean the sky remained clear, the light of the morning sun still dancing off the rippling waves near the Waterfront.\n\nDespite the imbalance, it was quite peaceful here.\n\nI am right beside you, Alec.\n\nKai was standing next to him, dressed as she had been before in a black overcoat covering her Mendaihu uniform. Her hair was tied back low, the tail resting over her right shoulder. She was smiling at him, just watching him.\n\n_We're past the first of the walls,_ he said.\n\n_Yes,_ she answered, taking a seat on a rock to his left and laying a hand on his shoulder as she did so. She gazed out over the city, saying little but observing everything. Within this Lightpath she was the pure Mendaihu, ever the vigilant spirit.\n\nHe looked out as well. Focusing was easier this time, knowing what he was looking at and how to process it. His gaze landed on one of the larger warehouses to his left, deep in the warehouse district of West McCleever. It was surrounded by a softly glowing aura, as if it were itself alive with spirit. There were indeed thousands of believers and followers there now, all awakened and ready to act. He blinked again, turning back to Kai. _How did I get here?_\n\nI brought you here. More to the point, I directed your soul here. You arrived here of your own volition. Physically you're still down on Leonard Street at the diner. Karinna and Ashyntoya are watching over us.\n\nHe visualized a quick image of Ashan and Caren talking, and of his own body slumped halfway over the table in an inebriated stupor, with Kai cradling him in her arms. His right arm stretched out over the table, and Caren's fingers were interlocked with his. He tried to focus on this, but found it hard to concentrate. He shivered and found himself back on the Crest again.\n\nKai had slipped her hand in his, and squeezed it tight as he returned. _You're a unique spirit, Alec Poe,_ she said, though not facing him this time. _I believe you have great potential as a Guardian._\n\n_Guardian..._ He paused as the title came into his memory... _of the One of All Sacred, you mean._\n\nYes.\n\nWhy a Guardian? Because I've awakened? Surely more than that.\n\nShe laughed. _You're a rare and curious mix, Alec. You have both Mendaihu and Shenaihu energies flowing within you. A 'cho-nyhndah.' A twin-spirit._\n\nMendaihu and Shenaihu...? He attempted to wrap his brain around that idea and failed. He'd known he had _something_ within, but he always figured it was one or the other. He'd never known or sought out the lineage of his birth parents, and he knew he must have had some Meraladian blood flowing in his veins...but cho-nyhndah? They were indeed rare, one of the rarest forms of spirit on this planet. He couldn't believe it...but it made sense. Right now it felt as though he'd been looking at everything backwards and, for the first time in his life, had turned around to face his own truths that he'd been avoiding.\n\nHow is that possible?\n\nShe squeezed his hand again. _It is certainly possible to have full control over both spirits. It comes through heritage. Your parents or your grandparents were Shenaihu and Mendaihu and were able to contain the delicate balance. That is why it is so rare...that mix is so potent and unstable, that one energy overpowers the other, and the offspring's spirit chooses on its own, usually subconsciously. There are those however, like yourself, whose subtler spiritual energies were either dormant or subdued. Upon Awakening, every person, regardless of their upbringing or faith, is faced with a decision: to choose the Shenaihu path, the Mendaihu path...or perhaps both. Almost no one consciously chooses, though, for it is a constant struggle to have both. One side is always at odds with the other. That is all I can say for now; the rest is up to you to remember. Tell me, Alec — where do you think she is?_\n\nThe change of subject was unexpected. _Who?_\n\nThe One of All Sacred.\n\nHe waved a hand in the air and stopped her. _Wait a minute. What do you mean by 'the rest is up to me to remember'? Don't you mean 'learn?'_\n\nKai clasped her other hand around his and brought it up to her face, letting the back of his hand caress her cheek, her hair, her lips.\n\nDehndarra Né hra nyhndah, Alec. To know your own True Spirit is to be One with the Sacred. Everyone has had these memories, these ancient coded messages imprinted in our DNA and our spirits, ever since our mutual ancestors came to this world. They are buried so deep some are never found. That is why I say you must remember, Alec. You must recapture these memories.\n\nNow, if you could answer my question...where do you think the One of All Sacred is?\n\nWhere would she be...?\n\nWait — she? The One is female in this Coming?\n\nKai kissed the back of his hand, then held it to her chest. _Yes._\n\nHis jaw rested half open as he tried to say something, anything to answer her. The Ninth Coming of the One of All Sacred had been a long-awaited event with the Meraladians, though the Coming was more of an _embodiment_ than a reincarnation. The pure spirit of the One chose the next embodiment itself, cocooning inside its host until it had been awakened by either by its own volition or by spiritual force. Given the last few days, certainly it must be awake by now.\n\n_I don't know where she is,_ he said.\n\nKai seemed to pick up on his hesitation. Her grasp of his hand tightened briefly as she looked at him. _Do you not trust me, Alec?_\n\n_Of course I do,_ he said, and he knew it to be true, without question. He wouldn't have been able to say otherwise, not here in the elsewhere. _But I don't know where to go from here, where to look._\n\n_You will soon,_ she said distantly. _Just remember what I've shown you here, Alec. Please understand that in my physical and spiritual lives I would never harm you. I would find that task utterly impossible._ She face had reddened, but her expression had remained solid. She stood, still holding his left hand, and pulled him up. They looked over the expanse of Bridgetown together, each building, each person, each _spirit_ in such sharp detail he found it impossible not to stop and study each one...\n\n...and saw one Light, one spirit, brighter and sharper than all the others. It seared through the Sprawl before him, a pinprick of intensely bright light burning a hole through the canvas of reality and amplifying its beauty in the process. The Light was fueled by everything and everyone surrounding it — people, animals, plants, anything with some amount of life force lent its energy to this one Light. Through miles of buildings and other dotted speckles of spirit light, this one spirit shone with such luminosity it brightened those around it, as if returning its borrowed energy threefold.\n\nHe knew exactly where she was, and who she was.\n\n_Goddess..._ he whispered.\n\n_She is,_ Kai answered.\n\n_The One of All Sacred,_ he finished, his own spirit shivering with an overwhelming clarity. _Here in Bridgetown._\n\n_Yes,_ Kai whispered. _Now you understand. She must be protected, Alec. And you are the only one who can do it._\n\n_Why me?_ He had asked out of curiosity and not of fear, for his own spirit had already answered with its own explanation. If destiny had given him this one task, he accepted it graciously and without question.\n\n_Because she knows you, Alec,_ she said. _Because she trusts both you and Karinna above all else. You know who she is._\n\nHis hand twitched inside hers, a gesture she may or may not have interpreted as a response to her soothing touch. His vision had been cleared, and he had realized his true calling as Protector of the One. He had recognized Her Spirit, and She had recognized his. Instantly he recognized the spirit pattern as that of a young girl who had just awakened amidst much confusion, yet understood completely _why_ she had awakened and what it meant. As he stared at the Light of the One, a shudder raced down his back and he caught his breath.\n\n_Denysia,_ he thought, his heart skipping a beat. _Oh, Goddess...it's her!_\n\n...and all was Light.\n\n*\n\nPoe grunted and lifted his head groggily and looked across the table at Caren. Startled by his sudden movement, she locked eyes with him to make sure he had really regained consciousness. He blinked several times and slowly pushed himself up, aided by Kai. He exhaled deeply, and somehow managed to curl his mouth into a tired smile. He looked as if he'd just woken up from a long, refreshing nap. He looked at her again and nodded.\n\n_You're still here,_ she heard him say from within. _I'm sorry for putting you through this, Karinna._\n\n\"Alec?\" she croaked, wiping away new tears that had started down her cheeks. How did he learn to speak like that? \"What happened?\"\n\n\"I'm awake,\" he said, and took another long, deliberate breath. His voice was quiet but level. \"I just needed to step back and take a better look.\" He reached forward and took her hand. This was a touch of deep understanding and close friendship, a touch that she would have felt from soulhealers and other Mendaihu...but not from Poe. She didn't let go, however. She now understood that he had Shenaihu spirit flowing within him, and it was not a reason to shy away. She had known him for too long not to abandon him like that. It was the tender closeness they shared that she had not been aware of until just now.\n\n\"We have a mission, Caren,\" he said softly. \"We have to keep an eye on Denni...\"\n\n... _because she is the One, Karinna._\n\nHer heart skipped a beat and her stomach hit the floor. \"Wh...what?\"\n\nShe is the One of All Sacred.\n\n\"She's...\" Caren let out a breath, trying to speak but no more words coming. Again she tried, and still could not. She even tried to speak within, but found no words, at least no real, concrete words that she could wrap around the immensity of it all. Denni! _Denysia._ Her little sister...her sister in spirit and in flesh. How could such a young woman, still unsure of the world and of her newfound Mendaihu traits, become a Savior for Meraladians and the human race? How could it even be possible? Yet inside, deep within her own spirit, she knew this to be true. She knew, from the intense bond they shared, from the energies that flowed between them, even now, when the two of them were nearly at opposite ends of the Sprawl. She could sense Denni right now, sitting in a classroom at school, not quite aware of changes that were taking place within her own spirit, yet barely aware that she was being watched over by Caren, and now Poe as well. She felt both relief and gratification that the connection between them was unbreakable.\n\nIt was a connection, however, that could possibly be traced by other Soulsensers.\n\n\"This is the real reason why you were holding back,\" Poe said to Ashan. \"It had nothing to do with trusting us.\"\n\n\"It was for safety more than anything else,\" Ashan said. \"But now that the both of you are fully aware of the situation, I am afraid others will find out quickly enough. The same people who sensed edha Usarai during the Awakening Ritual can sense the two of you. Even more so, they can sense Denni right now, because of her own Awakening. Hers is continuing as we speak, so we must act fast.\"\n\n_Oh Goddess..._ \"We've got to...\" she trailed off, shuddering.\n\n\"Caren,\" Kai said quietly. \"Just say the word.\"\n\n\"I...\" _Oh Goddess...Denysia!_ _Denni!_\n\nShe pushed herself out of the booth, ran past the startled off duty ARU officers at the counter, and dashed out the front doors and back towards Headquarters before she realized she had left the others behind in mid-conversation. She had to get to her sister...how could she have been so blazingly _stupid_ to leave her alone at a time like this? Anyone could sense her now, even the nuhm'ndah...and she would not let them touch her. She would _not_ let them harm her. If she could Lightwalk and fly to her sister's side, she would at this very second, but she couldn't, and cursed herself again for leaving her alone. Behind her she could hear a commotion; she could sense Poe and the two Mendaihu behind her, surprised and afraid. They were calling her back, first with their inner voices and then out loud once they spilled out of the diner. Their voices pulled at her, beckoning, reaching frantically for her to return. Kai's voice was soothing and tender, nearly crowded out by Ashan's piercing shouts, but Poe's voice...\n\n...Poe's voice rumbled like violent thunder and lightning, reverberating throughout her own soul, shaking her down to the bone. His inner voice was so unexpectedly visceral it stopped her cold. She stumbled and nearly fell, veered sickeningly to the left, and came to rest against the cold and rough concrete of the building she'd been passing.\n\n\"Goddess...\" she exhaled. She looked down at her trembling hands. \"What...\"\n\n_Karinna!_ he called out. _You can't do this alone!_\n\nAs she leaned against the wall with one hand, she dropped her head and found herself gasping for air. He was right...she couldn't watch over Denni alone. She couldn't watch over her every single moment of her life. She felt the knife-pain of guilt and sadness in her heart, keener and sharper than ever before. She pushed herself up to stand again, her raised hand balled into a fist, and slammed the flat of it against the building in frustration, sending a jolt of pain up her arm. They were right, she couldn't do this alone. She lifted her head to see Ashan and Kai briskly walking towards her, with Poe just a few steps behind. Poe couldn't meet her eyes, scowling and turning away instead.\n\n_I'm not there for her,_ she said, fighting back tears.\n\n_But you are there in spirit,_ Poe responded. _And that makes all the difference._\n\nAngered, she let out a low growl and glared at him until he looked at her. \"How would you know, Alec? Can a simple bond be enough to protect her from being taken or...or killed?\"\n\nAshan started to speak. \"That simple bond, Caren, is —\"\n\nShe waved him away with a quick flash of the arm. \"I don't give a shit, Ashan! We may be bonded, by Light, blood, spirit, whatever, but don't you get it? _I'm...not...there!_ What if some crazy bastard finds her? What if it was that...whoever it was that killed my parents? What the hell could she do to defend herself? Can you answer me that?\"\n\n_Faith, Karinna,_ she heard someone say.\n\n\"What?\" She leered at the three of them. \"Who said that? Who just spoke within me?\"\n\n_I did,_ the voice said. _I am Ampryss. Have faith, Karinna. Your sister is well protected, my dearest. I am protecting her._\n\n\"Am...\" Caren shook her head, now more flustered than angry. She turned to the others again. \"Okay. Who the hell is Ampryss, and why is she talking to me?\"\n\nThe two Mendaihu agents paled at the same time.\n\n\"Well?\" she demanded.\n\n\"She's the Watcher of Trisanda,\" Ashan said, visibly humbled by the name. It was the first time she'd ever seen him nearly at a loss for words. \"The watcher of the Mendaihu. I think you can rest easy now.\"\n\nCaren found Ashan and Kai's reaction to the name both comforting and disturbing at the same time. She unclenched her fists, drooped her shoulders, and let out a long, slow breath of fear.\n\n_My sister,_ she thought, bewildered. _My sister is a goddess._\n\n*\n\n_We're all here for you, Karinna,_ he said from within. _All of us._\n\nPoe stood away from Caren and the two Mendaihu, staring up at the overcast sky and trying to calm his own nerves. His head throbbed and his eyes ached, like he hadn't slept in days. He felt his entire being, body and soul, being stretched into something he was not familiar with. His mind raced between thoughts of Caren and Denni, and of the controlled anger that welled up within him...and of the repressed anger of everyone around him. It was all he could do to keep himself centered, to keep himself from reacting to the emotional and spiritual overload. As always, he focused on his partner to keep himself anchored down. She didn't always notice it, but he silently thanked her every time.\n\nHe dropped his eyes to her. \"You okay, kid?\" he asked.\n\nShe walked up to him and laid a hand on his arm. \"Better. You?\"\n\nHe let out a long breath. \"Truthfully? I don't know.\"\n\nShe hummed in agreement and smiled awkwardly at him. \"I, uh...I heard you calling.\"\n\nHe flushed and looked away. \"Huh...didn't expect that to work.\" All at once, the anger ebbed, and he felt the tension in his back loosen. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms to mask his frown. The anger had vanished, dropped and forgotten. Only empty frustration remained. He'd wanted to say more, to tell her what had happened and where he'd gone with Kai, but he couldn't find words. There _were_ no words for what he'd experienced.\n\nHe looked over at Ashan and Kai, half hoping for some sort of explanation. Normal human logic told him that the stress of the case was getting to him. His emotions, however, told him he was going through something so complex and rare that even Kai couldn't completely explain it while in that elsewhere. The best she could do was to show him the chaotic energy of the city, and the unconditional love of a Mendaihu. They looked at him now, she with that love, and Ashan with protection. He gave them a reassuring nod; they took it as a sign to leave the two of them alone for a bit to gather themselves. Kai must have seen the exhaustion in his face, for she gave him a quick smile and tugged her brother away a good distance.\n\nCaren squeezed his arm. \"Alec,\" she said. \"I'm sorry I freaked on you back there.\"\n\n\"Don't apologize,\" he said. \"I would have acted the same.\"\n\nShe held a hand to her face to hide a blush. She wanted to embrace him, but shied away instead. He didn't mind, he understood their bond. \"Thank you,\" she said, touching his arm.\n\n\"Don't mention it.\"\n\n\"We have to find Denni,\" she said, not missing a beat.\n\n\"Denni's fine,\" he countered.\n\n\"You don't know that.\"\n\n\"True,\" he said. \"But think of it this way: if she _were_ in trouble, she would have contacted you by now.\"\n\nShe let herself mull that over. \"I suppose you're right,\" she said. \"Can't blame me for worrying, though.\"\n\n\"No, I see your point,\" he said. \"If Denni truly is the One, I'd want to have her close until I had the situation under control.\" He gestured at Kai and Ashan, who were waiting politely farther down the block, leaning up against a concrete storefront and carrying on a separate conversation. \"If you want, we can all head over to Ormand Park School and pick her up.\"\n\nShe took his arm, relieved by the suggestion. \"That sounds like a wonderful idea,\" she said, and leaned her head against his shoulder. \"Come on. Let's not keep them waiting.\"\n\n\\-- _chk chk chk-chk—_\n\n\"Ah hell.\" Poe fished his comm out of his jacket pocket, only to find it wasn't his that had gone off.\n\n\"Guess I'm the famous one around here,\" she said mockingly and winked at him. She turned away and answered her own comm, covering her right ear to cut off the street noise. Her expression darkened quickly as soon as she heard the voice on the other end. Distractedly she waved Poe over. \"You've certainly gone one hell of a grand sense of timing, edha. Right. I've got my partner right here. What?\" She frowned at him, shaking her head and shrugging. \"Hang on, let me connect him.\" She covered her comm and leaned in. \"It's Kindeiya Shalei,\" she said. \"He wants to speak to the both of us.\"\n\nPoe fished out his comm again and pressed the appropriate code to slip into conference mode. \"Okay, Kindeiya,\" Caren continued. \"You have our attention.\"\n\n\"Excellent,\" he said. His immaculately smooth voice was still there, but all the joy had gone out of it some time ago, replaced by exhaustion. \"Edha Poe, emha Johnson, I commend the both of you on your patience, as well as embracing your enlightenment as well as you have. You have no doubt just realized why I could not speak to you until now. And I call you at this time because there is precious little of it left. You _must_ go to the Moulding Warehouse by four this afternoon, as it is the safest place for all of you at this time. It is six hours away, but after yesterday we can all imagine what can happen within those six hours. Thus, it is imperative that you listen to what I have to say.\n\n\"I am sure you've come to the conclusion that I am a Prophet of the One. It is not a title I want to go around flaunting, for obvious reasons. The reason, emha Johnson, that I did not tell you I knew who you were, was because we had to know for sure that your sister Denni was who we expected her to be. Seeing the future is both a matter of fate and of perspective, my dear child. If we really wanted her to be the One of All Sacred, by all means she could have embodied the One but not been the One. But that, of course, did not happen, and because of this, your presence at the Waterfront is imperative.\"\n\nHer free hand balled into a fist again. \"Why do you say that?\"\n\n\"Because Denni will already be there by the time you arrive,\" he said. \"Edha Poe: to you, I wish Love, Peace and Light. I understand your confusion...torn between light and shadow. But if choose your path wisely, that won't matter at all.\"\n\nPoe opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it.\n\nKindeiya continued without missing a beat. \"I say this now: Denni _will_ be at the warehouse in six hours, whether it is from your doing or not. All I ask is that the both of you are there as well, to continue to protect her.\"\n\n\"Like hell I'm going to bring her there!\" Caren growled at him. \"If you think I'm going to put her in any kind of danger...\"\n\n\"Remember five years ago, edha Johnson.\"\n\nPoe winced as the color drained from Caren's face. She winced and shut her eyes. \"What about five years ago, Kindeiya?\" she said in a barely contained monotone.\n\n\"You were working with emha Kennedy at the time, yes? She could tell you, I'm sure she remembers that day. You were at headquarters in Branden Hill at the time, pushing paper at the exact moment that your sister Denni was in school in Pullock Street Heights.\n\n\"And at that exact moment, Karinna...\"\n\n\"Kindeiya, damn you —\"\n\n\"...at that moment, a man stood in the center of an abandoned apartment on Grieves Street. This man was attempting to Lightwalk, to search for the One of All Sacred. It had been approximately twenty years since the Eighth embodiment, and this man was anxious to meet the next.\"\n\nCaren let out a whimper. \"Please...don't do this.\"\n\n\"He was nuhm'ndah, Karinna. One of the best soulsensers of the time, and born a pure Shenaihu. The division of the Shenaihu and the Mendaihu are not the same as clan divisions, my sehnadha; the soul sees the self, but not the name we give it. He was one of the nuhm'ndah. They were...and still are, to some extent...an extremist Shenaihu sect. The Shenaihu themselves do not recognize them politically, although they can't help but acknowledge them as brethren in spirit.\"\n\nShe trembled. \"Please...don't —\"\n\n\"You _must_ hear this to understand, Karinna,\" he pleaded. \"This is what I could not tell you earlier. The nuhm'ndah are extremists. Their plan is to annihilate any and all Mendaihu. Other Mendaihu and Shenaihu know this...yet the Shenaihu have brought them back, time and again. And for this nuhm'ndah to have the ability to find the One without any help...\n\n\"On that day, at that moment, the man had just entered Light, to find the sleeping spirit of the One of All Sacred...\"\n\n\"Damn you, that's enough!\" she cried. Poe felt a ripple of pain surge from Caren's direction.\n\n\"...somewhere up in the Pullock Street Heights sector, waiting to awaken.\"\n\n\"Kindeiya...please...\" she sobbed.\n\nAshan placed a hand on Caren's shoulder. She made a movement as if to jerk his hand away, then belatedly accepted it. She desperately needed his soulhealing touch just then. After a second, Ashan moved closer until he was embracing her, his arms over hers, his head resting against the back of hers. So engrossed was Poe in watching this healing process that he almost hadn't noticed Kai enshrouding him as well.\n\n\"...and he had found her,\" Meade said.\n\n\"...Denni,\" she said, her voice raw.\n\n\"Yes, my dearest child. This man had found Denysia, and had begun planning his next moves. As Shenaihu, he was bound, at that time, to destroy the One. At that time, they had planned to keep the One from returning in each generation. I can only guess what would have happened to her, had he succeeded.\" He stopped momentarily, and the silence was overwhelming. \"But now...? Now they plan to corrupt her.\"\n\n\"How...\" Poe began, startled by his own voice in the eerie quiet of the phone line. \"How did Caren's parents know? How _could_ they know?\"\n\n\"By their bond, edha,\" he answered. \"The bond of parent to child, of Mendaihu to Mendaihu. Of Mendaihu to the One of All Sacred. They sensed something, my friend. It could have been his dark spirit...it could have been the probability of her death...we may never know. The bond surpassed anything they had known before, and it scared them. But within moments they had surrounded and attacked him.\"\n\nCaren's sobs carried quietly over the line. Poe felt another stab of pain with each whimper he heard. He tried blocking out Kindeiya's voice, blocking out everything around him by squeezing his eyes shut, which only made him sense it all that much more. He let in a short breath, exhaled it, and opened them again. Kai still held him in her arms, cradling him, touching him, loving him.\n\n\"Aram and Celine Johnson saved your lives,\" Kindeiya said soothingly. \"Their previously untapped Mendaihu abilities had been pushed to the limit in order to protect their daughters.\"\n\n_I remember._ Caren's inner voice carried through all four of them. Poe clutched at his jacket, his heart surging with pure emotion.\n\n_Denni..._ Caren called out. _I remember now...!_\n\nCHAPTER EIGHTEEN\n\n_Shenaihu - Mendaihu_\n\nJanoss Miradesi.\n\nNatianos Lehanna's low voice thundered within his head and caught him off guard. He tripped and fell sideways into the wall of his office, catching himself just before he hit the floor, and stifled a curse. He'd expected to hear from Natianos at some point today, but he'd expected it to be by common means like a vid call or in person, not with a pain-inducing inner voice. It meant that his message was not just important but _imperative_ , and he'd damn well better answer in the next few seconds or he'd call again, louder and more penetrating. He limped towards his desk and eased himself into the chair, forcing himself to smile. Any feelings of disorientation would fade away quickly. He'd forgive him that.\n\n_Ye_ s, Dahné, he called. I am here.\n\nsnap\n\n\"Awaken, eichi,\" the voice said. \"Come with me.\"\n\nJanoss twitched, startled by the sudden and unexpected appearance of his superior and the form he had taken. Dahné Natianos Lehanna had stepped out of Light in his true Shenaihuza spirit in the shape of a muscular bipedal winged dragonlike creature, an aspect of kiralla. He towered over his desk, his body filling nearly every available inch of the floor in front of him. His body was covered with dusky brown scales that shimmered under the office lights. His long snout hung low, dark and piercing eyes fixed on him, studying him intently but not revealing why. The Dahné held his paws crossed in front of his body, the fingers flexing anxiously every few seconds, revealing long pearly claws that clicked softly against each other. His tail reached over to the corner of the room and curled slightly, but never touched wall or floor. His presence inspired fear deep into Janoss' soul.\n\n\"Come with me, my sehnadha,\" he said in a low, rumbling voice, and lifted a hand. \"I wish to show you something.\"\n\n\"Yes, Dahné,\" Janoss said. He let out a slow breath and closed his eyes, preparing for his own metamorphosis. He'd done this before, long before his near-change down in that abandoned hallway, and it took him less than a few seconds to complete. He felt himself changing form, from human to Shenaihuza, the realities blurring for a moment in his mind as his True form emerged from its sheltered soul. In his own kiralla aspect, much more compact than Natianos' yet similar in every other fashion, he arched and stretched every muscle and nerve, the body happy to be free of its spiritual cage.\n\n\"Where are we going, Dahné?\"\n\n\"To the hundred forty-second floor,\" Natianos said with no emotion.\n\nJanoss growled softly. \"Shirai's memstation?\"\n\nInstead of getting an answer, Natianos moved towards the windows of the office, and snapped back into Light. Shuddering, Janoss followed moments later.\n\nThey now stood on the escape walkway of the hundred forty-second floor, the first few drops of an impending rainfall splashing against their skins. Janoss blinked a raindrop out of his right eye and looked around, searching for Natianos. He had expected him to be out here, the same spot where Nehalé Usarai had stood days before. Nehalé's spirit signature still permeated this spot, a tightening of the air much like that which preceded a lightning strike. Janoss flexed his paws, uncomfortable with standing out in the open.\n\nDahné? He looked around again, but could not see him.\n\nYou are here, but not here, was the answer Natianos gave him, his voice eerily not where it should be. Come further into Light, Janoss.\n\nJanoss frowned, shifting his kiralla form. \"I already am, Dahné.\"\n\nNatianos let out a quick laugh. Not fully, my friend.\n\nHe felt a shove from behind, and before he could whirl around and grab at something to keep from falling, he pitched back and felt his left foot sliding off of the escape walkway...the last solid thing he felt before his descent into Light.\n\n*\n\n\"Wh...where are we?\" Janoss said, blinking hard, his eyes attempting to refocus. He was standing in a field of grass stalks somewhere in the Wilderlands, overlooking a dark green valley full of pine trees. This field stood on top of a smooth slope leading west, perhaps towards the Inland Provinces, the eastern and southern slopes obscured by a vast forest of pines. The only sounds he heard was the rustle of windblown branches and the occasional twittering of birds. Compared to the center of the city, this was a blessed silence.\n\n\"We're past the veil,\" Natianos replied.\n\nJanoss turned around. Natianos stood behind him, back in human form, adjusting a cufflink and glancing back at him with just a touch of impatience. Janoss looked down at his hands; he'd changed back to his own human self as well, wearing the same suit he'd been wearing all day. There was something odd about being here, though...as if the freedom he felt while in the Shenaihuza spirit had replicated itself here. He felt utterly at peace with his own skin for once. The tightness of the air, the spot Nehalé had stood, had eased, replaced by a calm breeze that flowed through him, easing every muscle in his body. It felt familiar...he'd been here before, been in this situation. \"This isn't an aspect I'm used to,\" he said. \"Have we traveled?\"\n\n\"Indeed we have,\" Natianos smiled. \"It's Trisanda. Our birth, Janoss. Where the Shenaihuza and the Mendaihuza are one.\"\n\nJanoss shuddered, but said nothing. Did Natianos always have the ability to reach this far in his travels? Very few could reach this far without assistance or years of training or assistance...or unless their abilities were enhanced somehow. It had to have been Nehalé Usarai's doing. Natianos must have realized this much earlier than he had, and must have started testing his limits soon after. Janoss was impressed, but he didn't want to let Natianos know, not just yet. Instead, he took a slow sweeping view, taking in every detail of what he saw and sensed. Visually it was like any other place in the Wilderlands north of the city: a healthy forest on the verge of changing its autumnal colors, a field of wild grass rolling gently in the breeze, a clear blue sky...nothing out of the ordinary. On a more sensory level, however, he could feel it: a flow of energy he could read and touch, emanating from everything around him, from the blades of wild grass at his feet to the trees at the edge of the field, even to Natianos standing beside him, reminding him that this was his ancestral home, where his spirit truly belonged, no matter how far it may travel. A familiarity, a spiritual bond of oneness with everything around him that only a true Meraladhza could feel. It had to be Trisanda.\n\n\"We have all Awakened,\" Natianos said with a smile. \"Some more than others, you know. Nehalé planned this more thoroughly than I'd thought. He awakened us all, Mendaihu and Shenaihu.\" He laughed, lifting his head up to take in the view. \"You and I came up here by Lightwalking, Janoss. Like our ancestors once did. Our past is slowly catching up with us. We're finally remembering our past again. Nehalé certainly has leveled the playing field, hasn't he? Just like his Vigil friends. Anyone can come up here now, if they're willing to learn how. Do you know what this means?\"\n\nOf course Janoss knew what it meant, and measured his words before he spoke. If the Awakening ritual had done what Nehalé had planned it to do, the girl would now be coming out of hibernation and setting everything else in motion. And if she'd been awakened, it was imperative that the right souls surrounded her, to ensure the delicate balance between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu remained steady. \"It means the One of All Sacred has been awakened as well,\" he said.\n\nNatianos beamed. \"We need her to keep her from ascending, Janoss,\" he said. \"If she ascends, then the balance is lost.\"\n\nJanoss shivered at the thought. He wholeheartedly agreed...but for precisely the opposite reason. She could not ascend, because that would not just tip the balance, but completely eradicate it. \"I already have people looking,\" he offered weakly.\n\nNatianos took his gaze off the sky for a moment and smiled appreciatively at him.\n\n*\n\nNehalé stood on the mezzanine of an old order processing station, looking out over the hundreds of people milling about on the warehouse floor below. Anando stood beside him, toying with the mixing board they'd jerry-rigged to the intercom system just an hour before, and gave him the thumbs-up to start whenever he felt ready. He wished he had the kid's optimism at that moment, as his own had inexplicably vanished. He'd plotted out this very moment for ages, including when he would give a brilliant speech to these devout followers of the One, but now that the time was here...words had failed him. He had the general idea, of course...that would be found in the unspoken words, the ones he'd be speaking within, underneath everything else. Oh, if he only had the gift of words like Reverend Miriam! Perhaps that was how to start...get their spirit's attention first, then worry about the spoken words when he got to them.\n\nSomfei, edha d' emha...mehridea shadha di nyhndah...dehndarra Né hra nyhndah.\n\nThe noise in the room immediately dropped down to a whisper as every single body down there stopped what they were doing and faced him. That seemed to get their attention...he cleared his throat nervously, turned on the mic and began.\n\n\"I am Nehalé Usarai,\" he said aloud. \"Peace, Love, and Light to all of you.\"\n\nHe stopped again, closing his eyes, and thought of how Miriam had entranced his parishioners at the church yesterday. If he could take hold of his audience...if he could capture the hearts and souls standing below him...he took a deep breath, reaching out with his soul. He wished for them to listen. If his words were less than perfect, then his spirit would talk for him. He opened up his eyes and began again.\n\n\"First of all...what I say to you now is of utmost importance. Since the Awakening, there has been an incredible surge in the number of Mendaihu and Shenaihu sensitives in Bridgetown and in surrounding provinces. I am assuming that most of you understand, or at least have some grasp on the changes you are going through. There are those who stand next to you, however, who are scared or confused...they have been given an overwhelming strength, and knowledge they never knew they could acquire. I urge you, my brothers and sisters, to embrace them; give them that knowledge they deserve.\n\n\"Many of you are asking...why have we been awakened? Why do we stand here, listening to this apparent madman, this anarchist? Why was I brought here?\n\n\"I tell you now, _eicho d' eichi,_ that you are not alone. Your spirits were awakened to celebrate the coming of the One of All Sacred. She is here, within us, at this very moment. She is all of us, in her purest form. She is space, she is time...she is the _Universes_. And she has come again.\"\n\nA collective gasp and the sound of inner voices surged towards him. _The One...? Oh Goddess she's returned! We have been saved!_ The surge of emotion washed over him like a tidal wave, knocking him back. He rushed to recapture his own emotions in the deluge, their joy so similar to his own. He blinked tears away as he leaned forward over the railing, catching his breath. He had expected this reaction from many of the people here; those who followed the One of All Sacred faithfully, Mendaihu and Shenaihu alike, and those who had some degree of familiarity with their faith, had come willingly and without question. Those who could not understand the sudden jubilation stood ashen-faced, confused and more than a little scared. These were the uninformed, the ones who had never been taught the secrets of the Mendaihu, the Shenaihu, and the One.\n\nThey would be his first pupils, when the time came.\n\n\"You have come of your own will,\" he continued, \"out of your own volition, to this warehouse in the most disregarded and unorganized sector of Bridgetown, to become part of a grand awakening. We come here to the Waterfront to congregate and praise the return of the One, but _not_ to build an army to fight our enemies. Our fate was never to fight amongst each other. Our fate is to protect Gharra and the One of All Sacred at all costs from those who would destroy them. If that means we must eventually go into battle, so be it...but that is _not_ our fate. We will not fight if there is no reason for it.\"\n\nHe took advantage of the pause in his sermon to take another breath, and to observe the crowd again. The inner voices had calmed down to a murmur, taking his words to heart. \"Some of you are questioning our motives,\" he continued. \"I can sense your wariness, and I don't blame you. Why are we not attacking the nuhm'ndah? We were provoked, I can attest to that. I was witness to this provocation, yesterday at St. Patrick's Church, and I can tell you that parishioners within the church did nothing to warrant such a blatant attack.\n\n\"I understand that some of you were in the area of Sculler's Crossing, just over a mile from here...you had lost eighteen Mendaihu and five Shenaihu. I understand that family members of those twenty-three are here today in this warehouse. My heart goes out to all of you... _nyhnd'aladh,_ do not misunderstand me. I know your pain, and I pray for your healing. I can only wish that our mission of peace will eventually come to fruition, and no more lives, no more spirits will be lost. I firmly believe that the One of All Sacred knows this as well, and that is her aim.\"\n\nAn unexpected roar of applause filled the warehouse. Nehalé smiled broadly at them, placing his hand over his chest in a gesture of heartfelt appreciation, but his joy was short-lived. He had padded his sermon enough to keep these people calm and attentive, but eventually he'd have to explain why they had been drawn here in the first place. A good number of these people were going to be upset to find that they had come here on their own volition and not by some kind of summoning. He knew from experience the unsettling feeling of helplessness when a spirit chose its own path regardless of the person's logic or emotion.\n\n\"As it stands, the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu are at an impasse. They want control over the One of All Sacred. We of course do not control her, but we do have her under our protection. I tell you now, that they will not stop until they have her. I cannot tell you to what lengths they will go to obtain her, but we must be vigilant! We must remain so, until the threat has passed. They will not have her!\n\n\"So I tell you now, dear friends, my _sehnadha_. We are here, in this warehouse, in order to defend. I know this, my friends, because _she is coming here._ \"\n\nThe crowd stopped chattering and clapping, and gaped at him in stunned silence. Only moments later was the silence broken, first by a few brave spirits willing to voice their true feelings. Then all at once, everyone began speaking again in a sudden storm of excitement and surprise: _The One...coming here? To us? She's...she's coming? Is she here now?_\n\n\"She is _not_ here at the moment,\" he said above the din in his head, waving his hands down at them. \"But before the day is done, she will come.\"\n\nHe could say no more, as the room suddenly erupted into cheers and cries of joy once more. Another surge of emotion washed over him, and he could not brace himself against it. He let it flow freely through his own essence this time, leaning against the railing and laughing. How else could he react? Having nothing more to say at that moment, Nehalé backed away from the edge of the mezzanine and sat down on one of the desks behind him. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and laid his hands on his lap.\n\n_We are here, my dearest One_ , he whispered within himself. _We are waiting._\n\n*\n\n_Father,_ Saone whispered to herself. _I shall not let you down._\n\nSaone took a deep breath and slowly backed away from the edge of the crowd that filled the warehouse. She bit her tongue hard and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, wanting so badly to contact her father at this very moment. He had to know about this Coming as soon as possible! If she could get as many nuhm'ndah ready as possible before the event, before the Mendaihu were ready, there was a better chance he would be able to win...that thought alone made her giddy with excitement!\n\n_Dahné Lehanna,_ she called from within. _...eilee fadayin._\n\nA stirring of her heart. She felt her father answer her almost immediately, first without vocal acknowledgement. That stirring, a sudden jump of her heartbeat, heightened her awareness of the gossamer thread of spiritual link that they shared. The connection felt more distant than usual...perhaps he'd been traveling? Eventually she heard a humming sigh, a familial sign that she had his attention.\n\nWhat is it, my daughter?\n\nSaone's nerves jumped excitedly. _I have just heard. The One of All Sacred has indeed awakened, and will be here in the Waterfront District by this evening._\n\nIn that strange way, she felt his smile. _Very good, Saone...I had heard rumors, yet no truths until now. I bless you for your vigilance._\n\nShe smiled inwardly as she moved farther away from the main crowd inside the warehouse. She was in a prime position to do anything she wanted or needed to do to further the nuhm'ndah cause; she did not want to get sent back to her father's mansion on Sachers Island, nor did she want to hand this position off to anyone else. She would allow only one other person, her partner Kryssyna, to help her.\n\n_Shall I stay in position, Dahné?_ She continued to call her father by his Shenaihu title, rather than 'father,' to prove her point of being more than just his daughter. _Kryssyna Piramados shall accompany me._\n\nWithout a pause, he answered. _You shall prove your ultimate worth as a Shenaihu nuhm'ndah, Saone, with this simple task: take the child who is the One of All Sacred, and bring her to me._\n\nSaone smiled. _I shall, Dahné._ Wordlessly but with a final rush of both fatherly love and pride, her father accepted and disconnected from her. The gossamer thread shrank, reeling back within her until she felt complete once more.\n\n_I shall,_ she thought, and left the warehouse. She fought back a shudder as she walked out the open dock door. She had tried not to let all the Mendaihu in this warehouse bother her, and her nerves had held out for this long, yet she had to release this tension she'd felt since entering the place. She had a score to settle with edha Usarai — a very personal score. By cruel fate, she had been just outside the Mirades Tower that night, having just clocked off of her late shift not fifteen minutes before. And when Nehalé Usarai released that damned ritual, he'd nearly killed her in the process. She'd heard him, of course...heard his words of warning before he let loose the Rain of Light, but by the time she could react, it was too late. The ritual hit her with full force, knocking her up against the glass of the north foyer.\n\nThe energy siphoned out of her...Goddess, she never wanted to feel that again! And the Light...Goddess, the _Light...!_\n\nHe had ruined her spirit. Of course, she dared not admit what had happened to her family, knowing they'd disown her on the spot. She was no longer pure Shenaihuza spirit, not anymore. He had changed her.\n\nAnd damn it all, he was going to pay for that.\n\nShe walked around the smaller crowd milling outside near the entrance, and debated her next move. There was a possibility she could stick around the warehouse, out of range of the sensitives, but close enough for her to stay with what was happening. She could then lead a contingent of nuhm'ndah from there. She looked upwards at the roof of the warehouse, judging the distance from ground to roof, and guessed it to be between three and four stories tall. She separated herself from the crowd and began to circle the building, looking for any outside access to the roof.\n\n\"Hello,\" she heard ahead of her.\n\nShe had been too busy looking up that she hadn't noticed the young man standing a few yards away. He was not quite grimacing at her, but his body language suggested he meant no harm, he was merely curious. Perhaps he was security? After a moment she recognized him as the guy who'd been fiddling with the electronics in the warehouse for the last few hours, setting up the sound system both inside and out. He looked like a kid just out of university with his alma mater sweatshirt and faded jeans.\n\n_Bridgetown University,_ she thought. _Must be a smart one._\n\n\"Uh...hi,\" she said with a hint of feigned shyness.\n\n\"Looking for something?\" he asked plainly.\n\n\"No, uh, not really.\" She smiled at him, shrugging. \"Just curious as to why this particular warehouse had been picked as a meeting place. I would have thought a...\" _A church,_ she had almost said. That wouldn't have gone over too well. \"...well, perhaps KJS Arena would have been a more suitable and comfortable place for this sort of thing.\"\n\nThe man smirked. \"Well, given the circumstances, I think an empty warehouse would be a lot safer.\" He held out a hand towards her. \"My name's Anando Shalei.\"\n\nShe took it and smiled. \"Somfei, edha Shalei. I am Saone Lehanna.\"\n\nHe studied her for the moment they shook hands, and Saone did her best to hide the shiver she suddenly felt. She had been trained to mask her visual and spiritual emotions from others, but rarely had the chance to use that ability, as most of the people her father had sent her to observe were ordinary humans and Meraladians with little or no sensitivity to such things. The moment passed and they continued walking around the perimeter of the warehouse, in the direction Saone had planned on going.\n\n\"You don't see many of these warehouses in this district anymore,\" Anando said. \"Ninety-nine percent of import-export takes place over in West Brandenville near the Nullport now. Moulding TechWear was the last resident a few years back. That's why this place is still in such good shape...they took good care of it. Nearly everything including the storage racks have been upgraded.\"\n\nSaone nodded as he continued on, pretending to be interested in the building's history. Every now and again she glanced up, still trying to locate any secondary entrances for infiltration. There were countless fire exits from the main floor. Perhaps in the melee of the celebrating the One's return, her people could get in undetected, but that would demand keys, or at least someone on the inside to let them in. Crashing through was out of the question, at least for now; a quiet, subtle inundation had been the main plan.\n\nIt wasn't until they were on the western side of the building that Saone discovered the opening they would take. Her neck had gotten stiff from taking quick glances upwards as Anando continued his tour, and she had dropped her head down to rub the back of it, when she noticed the subway grates dividing the sidewalk. The East Sprawl Line shot directly up Holgate Street, stretching the entirety of the coastline, with older, disused lines branching off all over the city. No doubt some of the older buildings in the Waterfront sector had access, due to their proximity and convenience to its workers. She knew the BMPD and the ARU used these tunnels now and again for field training, and certainly the nuhm'ndah used it all the time as quick passage. A quick investigation in the back rooms of the warehouse would give her the answer. For now, though, she was satisfied at her discovery and the outcome of the mission so far.\n\nAnando had been talking about the day's festivities and had just finished giving his take on Nehalé's plans, and was waiting silently for her response. She had only half-listened, too intent on her planning, but had picked up enough to carry the conversation on.\n\n\"Well,\" she smirked playfully at him. \"He certainly knows how to sell his message, that's for sure.\"\n\nAnando laughed. \"You're not the first person to admit that.\"\n\n\"From what I've heard about him, I shouldn't expect any less,\" she said. They had come nearly to the southern corner of the building and returned to the front entrance, and while she talked, she took one last glance at the grates. She used her excitement of the finding and made it as general as possible so Anando could perceive it as joyous anticipation of the evening's event. Anando picked up on it instantly.\n\n\"It's strange,\" he said. \"Here we all are, all us Mendaihu and Shenaihu, knowing _in advance_ of the Ninth Coming of the One of All Sacred, knowing that it'll be tonight, knowing it'll be here at this very warehouse. It's almost...\"\n\n\"Preordained?\" Saone said, grinning at him.\n\n\"Heh. Seriously, it's as if it's a _blessing_ from the universes themselves.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"A bit profound there, Anando, but I understand the intent of your words. It is a little unnerving to be able to know exactly when your own personal deity is going to arrive at your doorstep.\"\n\nThey walked in silence the rest of the way back to the main entrance, where they found themselves competing for space with a growing crowd and, across the now-closed street, a line of vendors offering food. The pleasant mixture of spicy aromas made her realize she was famished, and that she had not eaten since late last night. She wandered over to a noodle stall, surprised that Anando had followed her. She hid her irritation as she dug for money for the vendors.\n\nThe man behind the stall waved the money away and smiled. \"On the house, _emha_. Compliments of KJS Corporation.\"\n\nAnando laughed behind her. \"Kindeiya Shalei! I should have known he'd do this.\"\n\n_Well then,_ she thought in frustration. _Guess I'll have to entertain this Mendaihu a little longer._ She would have to wait for the next opportunity to go back inside and investigate the lower depths of warehouse. Cursed with an incredible amount of patience and tolerance, she pushed aside her plans and made her best attempt at enjoying the day. She grabbed two servings of ramen from the stall and handed one to Anando.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he said, digging in. \"I've been so busy tailing Nehalé that I haven't eaten all day.\"\n\n\"I get the feeling he's a bit overzealous,\" she said, more to herself than to him. His eyes widened, an expression only made sillier with strands of ramen noodle hanging from his lips, and she laughed. Had she just insulted a man he looked upon as some sort of holy figure? She shook her head at the thought. Nehalé was many things, and may in fact be a shepherd among the masses, but he most certainly was no messiah.\n\nAnando gathered his words eventually. \"Overzealous? Nehalé Usarai? Far from it! Zealotry is a far cry from a pure faith in the One, my dear Saone.\"\n\n\"I know,\" she said, giving him a genuine smile. \"You'll have to forgive me, my cynicism gets the best of me sometimes.\" Her eyes lingered on him for a second; perhaps getting stuck with this particular Mendaihu wasn't so bad after all. What better way for a nuhm'ndah to blend in than to be seen talking with the shepherd's lackey himself?\n\nCHAPTER NINETEEN\n\n_Denni - Amna_\n\nDenysia?\n\nThe voice entered her consciousness as a whisper so quiet she almost didn't hear it above the din of the school cafeteria, but she didn't have the time to answer it right now. Not when she had yesterday's history homework to finish off before next period. She'd been so worried about Caren that she'd forgotten all about it, and she'd be damned if she'd get another low grade in this class. She pulled up the worksheet on her vidmat and started scribbling out the answers as quickly as she could. She could at least accept points off for bad penmanship.\n\nTo be honest, she relished all this background white noise. She'd been distracted during all her early classes, not just by the persistent voice but by the news her sister had shared. It all made sense now: the dreams, the voices, the traveling, the soulhearing...and especially what Caren had told her about Mum and Dad. Caren had also called her this morning, just before she'd left for school, just to make sure she'd recovered from it all.\n\n\"Denni! There you are!\"\n\nAnother interruption! She lifted her head to see her friend Amna Ehramanis making her way through the crowded hall towards her table, plowing her way through pockets of students like a hurricane. Despite her petite frame, the girl was a power to behold, and those who saw her coming always scrambled out of the way. She never did anything quietly. It was comical to watch, but it was also impressive. She was well aware of her tininess and made up for it by having a larger-than-life personality. She was sweet and cute, but she could also kick your ass if you ticked her off.\n\n\"Girl, where have you been?\" she said, still a good four tables away. \"I've been looking for you all morning!\"\n\nDenni glanced down at her homework, weighed the options of her excuses for tardy homework...certainly she could use the influence of taking care of Caren, who happened to be on the recently heavily burdened ARU...and smiled deftly at her own shamelessness. \"Hey yourself,\" she called as she switched off the vidmat and stuffed it in her satchel. She gestured with a nod of the head at the number of students. \"Have a seat. Insane in here today, huh? A bit much for fourth period study, isn't it?\"\n\nAmna grabbed the back of an empty seat and yanked it out, nearly hitting the thigh of a passing classmate. She dropped her load of books on the table with a resounding _thump_ and grunted out of exhaustion. \"Just got out of Taylor's history class,\" she groaned. \"You wouldn't believe the homework she's got us doing...we have to finish up Kaalen's _dehndarra Né_ and have a ten-page paper on it by the end of the week. If I didn't know the tract already, I'd complain, but...\"\n\nDenni smiled, amused. Amna was certainly an odd character who defied any mental image one might have had of her. She was half-Meraladian on her mother's side, her clan's trait of good-natured belligerence running rampant in her blood. She may be small, but her spirit was far greater than any room she entered.\n\n\"Goddess, that reminds me,\" she continued. \"I've got a term paper for religious history class coming up next month. I'm thinking of writing about the Mendaihu. What do you think?\"\n\nDenni tried not to frown. \"It's...uh,\" she stumbled. She made herself look her friend in the eye and tried to keep her voice even. \"It's not a bad idea, Amna, but the Mendaihu aren't really a religion-based culture.\"\n\n\"Of course they are,\" she countered. \"Name me one Mendaihu who _isn't_ part of some religious movement. They're all tied into one spiritual thing or another, Den. No questioning that.\"\n\n\"There's a difference between religion and spirituality, Amzi...a _big_ difference.\"\n\n\"Says you,\" she said, sticking out her tongue.\n\n_Denysia!_ Denni twitched, the voice much louder and forceful than earlier. She muttered under her breath in response: _Not now! Please, not now!_\n\n\"Den?\" Amna frowned at her, a hand on her shoulder. \"You okay over there? Something I said?\"\n\n\"No, no...I'm okay,\" she said unevenly, forcing a smile and waving off concern. \"Just a weird night last night. Caren came in late again.\"\n\nAmna nodded. \"Ah. Those five riots, yeah?\"\n\nNo tact, that girl. \"Yeah. It's taken a lot out of her. Lot of weird stuff going on.\"\n\n\"NewsComm was scant on the details, but that doesn't surprise me,\" she said. \"They're not saying who or what started it, but I'm sure you can imagine the press is having a field day with speculation.\"\n\nDenni had to laugh at that. If only they knew the truth! \"Yeah, I've heard some really stupid things in the last twenty-four hours. Religious extremists, anti-religious extremists, Vigil...I think my favorite one so far is the guy on NC5 who's convinced it's all a government conspiracy to cause some sort of war between humans and Meraladians.\"\n\n\"Hey, could happen,\" Amna said, pointing at her with a self-satisfied smile. \"You never know when the day will come when I'm going to grow thirty feet tall, grow a tail, and come over to your house, honey. I've been savoring the day I can finally beat your ass but good.\"\n\nAmna's comment was so over the top and unexpected the two girls broke out in a giggling fit. She had so needed that levity right now! She playfully punched Amna on the arm, daring her to make good on her threat, which led to more outrageous boasting and laughter. They ignored the stares and continued to talk through the rest of the period about countless different topics, from school to music to politics, each subject flowing seamlessly into the next one. For the time being, Denni's life was back to normal. She heard the disembodied voice a few more times during the study period, but chose to ignore it. It had no intention of leaving, but wasn't too adamant at wrestling her attention away, either. She would respond when she could, and hoped that whoever was on the other end could understand that.\n\nThe period soon ended, and with her still-unfinished homework tucked in her satchel and burning a hole in her conscience, she made a quick plan to meet for lunch with Amna and her other friends before dashing off to Meraladian History class. She felt guilty for not getting the homework done, but at the moment she didn't feel it was that important. Instead she focused on Caren, wondering where she was at that very moment, and if she was doing okay. She thought she could reach out and touch her sister's spirit from across the city, and for a brief second thought she felt the gesture being reciprocated. It was only her own spirit that made her fully believe that their wordless affection over such a distance had actually taken place. She smiled and hummed quietly to herself as she walked to her next class.\n\n*\n\nDenysia!\n\nThe voice reverberated within her head with such unexpected force she let out a quick yelp that she barely contained in time. _Denysia!_ Again, seconds later, with equal force. _Please, answer me!_ It had started up again, this time calling her with increased frequency and urgency. _Enough!_ she cried at it. _Leave me alone!_ But still it came a fourth time, then a fifth, all in quick succession. She let out a shaky breath and wiped away tears that had started welling in the corners of her eyes. Goddess, when was this going to end? She glanced around the room, but all eyes were on the teacher except Amna's; she'd been watching her for the past five minutes, unspoken concern on her face. Denni waved her away. The last thing she wanted to do was get someone else involved.\n\nDenysia!\n\n\"Ow, damn it!\" she hissed. She shot up a hand and asked to be excused, blaming it on a sudden case of nausea, and headed for the bathrooms on the third floor. At this time of day, only a handful of teachers were in the rooms up there, readying themselves for their midday classes, and no other students would be nearby. She sprinted up the two flights of service stairs, out of sight of everyone, and stepped out into the quiet hallway. The women's room was down the end, near the faculty lounge. She would have to make it past there without being seen.\n\nDenysia!\n\n\"Right,\" she mumbled to herself while mentally cursing the voice, and headed towards the restroom. She had to walk past three other rooms before she got there, and stopped to peer around the doorframe of each one. The first two rooms were dark and empty, shades drawn and teacher's desk completely clear. The third room had its lights on, though after a few minutes she gathered up her nerves and looked in. A tall Meraladian sat at the desk, engrossed in the large vidmat he had displayed out before him. His brows were deeply furrowed, his complete attention devoted to his work. Exhaling, she tiptoed past the open door, skittered past the faculty lounge without attracting attention to herself, and darted into the restroom.\n\nDenysia!\n\nShe chose the end stall and locked herself in.\n\n_Fine,_ she thought with all the angry energy she could muster, and aimed it directly at the source of the voice. _I'm here, whoever you are. I have your attention, what do you want?_\n\n_Denysia!_ _At last we speak._ The voice took on an unexpectedly warm tone, much quieter than before. She could now recognize it as a woman's voice, and again she knew she'd heard it somewhere before. It was definitely the same voice she'd been hearing and avoiding over the last few days. _I am emha-sehndayen-ne Eprysia,_ the woman said. _Or em'prysia. You may call me Ampryss if you wish._\n\n\"Empress?\" she blurted aloud, not meaning to.\n\n_Ampryss with an 'a', my Dearest One,_ the voice laughed. _Surely I am not royalty. I am merely what you might call a Priestess._\n\nDenni cocked a curious eyebrow. Why would a priestess be going to great pains — mostly her own — to reach her via soulhearing, and doing it so badly at that? She had a feeling the woman was an overzealous Mendaihu, but she kept her guard in case they ended up being someone altogether different. _Gotcha,_ she said _. Who and where are you, and what is so important about getting a hold of me? I don't mean to be rude, but your beacon has been giving me one hell of a migraine._\n\nAmpryss gasped in surprise and apologized profusely. _Nyhnd'aladh, dearest. I was unaware of how far your awakening had progressed, Denysia. My 'beacon,' as you call it, was my own doing. Sa'im nyhnd'aladh...again, I apologize. Now that we have connected, I no longer need to reach quite so far and so strongly._\n\nDenni willingly took the bait. _Exactly how far are we talking about?_\n\n_That depends on your point of view, Denysia,_ she said with a touch of amusement. _If we're talking spiritually, I am just a few minutes away by Lightwalk. Physically? I am on Trisanda._\n\n\"Trisanda...?\" Denni exhaled, impressed. \"That's one hell of a distance.\" To Ampryss she added, _that's what, one-twenty or so parsecs away? How are you able to do that?_\n\n_I can sense your uncertainty,_ Ampryss said. _I expect it. But you can visit me any time you like, dearest one. I will show you there some day. Perhaps soon._\n\nDenni shivered with nervous excitement mixed in with a tiny bit of skepticism. Was she really talking to someone not even in a local CNF star system? Was that even possible? She'd heard extraordinary things about soulhearing before, but nothing as expansive as this. One hundred twenty parsecs! Even for Lightwalking that was an immense distance. A significant number of Mendaihu had that ability both spiritually _and_ physically, and apparently Dad had been one of them. Could she have inherited that ability as well?\n\nHer curiosity got the best of her. _Why did you contact me?_\n\n_I had to, as soon as you had awakened,_ she said. _Our connection is very important, Denysia._\n\n\"What's the big deal with me awakening?\" she said, more to herself than to Ampryss. She wondered if any other people going through this had to endure these offworld voices. There was also the nagging feeling that Caren wasn't the only one who knew about it. _Why me,_ she asked, _and why now?_\n\nThe door to the restroom swung open, a woman's heels clicking against the tile floor. Denni gasped and caught her breath, and pulled her legs up above the door. She cursed inwardly and hoped that she hadn't been heard. Thankfully the woman had only entered to wash her hands and fix her makeup, but she remained cramped in that odd position for close to three minutes perched on the edge of the toilet until the woman left. Ampryss must have sensed all of this tension, as she had not answered yet.\n\n\"Denni?\"\n\n_Oh shit!_ Her heart jumped at hearing her own name echoing against the walls and she nearly fell off the rim. It was only after hearing it a second time that she realized it was Amna, come to retrieve her. How did she know she'd gone all the way up to the third floor? And how did she get in without hearing her? \"Amna?\" she mumbled in the best nauseous voice she could muster. \"What are you doing up here?\"\n\nShe laughed in response. \"I should ask you the same question, kiddo. And you can cut the performance. I know you're not sick.\"\n\nStiff from the odd position she'd been sitting in, she was happy to stand and stretch now, and let out a quick grunt as she did so. She swung open the stall door and stepped out, a sheepish grin on her face.\n\nAmna was leaning up against the tiled wall waiting for her, arms crossed. \"Who were you talking to?\" she asked.\n\nDenni frowned. \"I wasn't talking to anyone, just you.\"\n\nShe huffed and rolled her eyes at her. _Inside, Den. Who was talking in here?_\n\n\"Oh _Goddess..._ \" she gasped, startled by her friend's voice inside her head. \"You...you heard?\"\n\n\"Every word, kiddo...\" Amna shrugged as if it was no big thing. \"Don't worry. You were in a...well, what would you call it? A strange _frequency_ , I suppose. I doubt anyone else heard it aside from me. So who was it?\"\n\nDenni evaded the question. \"Wait a minute...how long have you known how to soulhear? And why didn't you tell me?\"\n\nAmna looked away in frustration. \"About three years. It's not something you want to advertise, Den. You know how people are here — they expect you're listening in on everything.\"\n\nShe had a good point. She was annoyed that she hadn't shared this secret with her before, but she understood her reticence. The last thing she wanted to do was infringe on someone's privacy. \"Okay,\" she said. \"It's...good to know.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Amna said, and turned back to her, flashing a lopsided smile at her. \"You didn't answer my question. Who was that woman?\"\n\nDenni weighed her options before answering. How much could she tell her friend? How much could she trust her? \"Some Mendaihu, I think,\" she said finally. \"Very distant relative, wanted to talk to me, apparently.\"\n\nAmna frowned at her. \"Come on, I know you better than that. You know who she is, girl, I could tell. She was a lot more than some woman, wasn't she?\"\n\n\"I...\" she shivered. \"I know who she was, but I can't remember...\"\n\n\"No need to remember, Den,\" she said. \"Think of the name and follow the instinct, that's what I've always done. If anything, you'll know where you've heard her voice before.\"\n\nDenni thought about that for a moment, and closed her eyes. She focused on the sound of Ampryss' voice, the familiarity of it. It somehow reminded her of a garden of roses and other flowers, and a long and flat stretch of green lawn stretching towards a line of trees. She knew this place, she'd been there before, talked with Ampryss many times, in her dreams. She knew this place, knew this woman...\n\n_Dennise Johnson...Denysia..._ she heard.\n\nDenni stopped cold. _Oh goddess,_ she thought, with a sudden chill. _I_ do _know that voice..._\n\n_Denysia,_ it had said the night of the Awakening ritual, the night she had woken Caren up. It was not the voice that had said _awaken_ — that had been Nehalé Usarai's — but the voice that had spoken within immediately after. She had heard it in her waking consciousness, thinking it had been Caren at the time. She had completely forgotten that the voice had been real and _not_ Caren at all, but the soothing voice of Ampryss. Of Ampryss awakening her spirit.\n\n_Denysia...my Dearest One. You have Awakened,_ she had said.\n\nNot 'one,' but One. The One of All Sacred.\n\n_Oh Goddess,_ she whispered both aloud and within. _I am..._ Her heart fell...it couldn't be true! Oh Goddess, it _can't_ be true! She opened her mouth to scream but only a tiny, pathetic whimper came out. Hot tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't be here, not now. Not with Amna. She had to be home — no, she had to be with Caren. Karinna would know what to do...she caught her breath again, but it was too late...she was falling. She felt herself pitching forward as if she were about to faint, only to jolt backwards and hit her head against the cold tile wall.\n\n\"Denni?\" Amna's voice was crystal clear, quiet and soothing, bringing her back down to reality. \"Come on, girl, I'm here. Talk to me.\" She had thrown an arm around her shoulders and pinned her up against the wall to keep her from falling. Denni grabbed at Amna's shoulder, grasping it tight, in effect pulling Amna along with every move she made. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was too late. It was all too late. She gasped for air, each successive breath becoming harder and further away.\n\n_Amna!_ She managed to cry out her name within, hoping she would hear. _I'm..._\n\n_Denysia, I'm here for you._ Her friend's voice echoed in the far reaches of soulhearing.\n\nI...I'm sorry...my sister...she's coming for me...\n\nDenni felt a sickening lurch as the floor dropped out from under her, and all was Light.\n\n*\n\nDenni stepped out of the Light and onto the grassy knoll of Branden Hill Park.\n\n\"Uh...\" she said.\n\nBranden Hill Park? How the hell did she get there? And why there, of all places? She was at her school in Berndette Corner's west side just a couple of seconds ago, before she...before she what? Did she faint? She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them again, looking around. She was still standing in the middle of Branden Hill Park, about halfway up the slope to Jamison Avenue and about fifty yards from Park Street to her right. At least five miles away from where she'd been just moments ago.\n\nShe was facing eastward, in the direction of the Mirades Tower, and it was in such sharp focus it hurt to look for any length of time. She tried focusing on something closer: the grass she stood on. It too dipped and swayed in the breeze as if she could feel the life force moving through each blade, even those under her feet. It rushed through her with such incoherent completeness that her head spun and her knees buckled, her body dropping to the ground. Not an injuring fall, she thought with some relief, but a painful and embarrassing one nonetheless. She pushed herself back up slowly, determined to figure out what the hell was going on.\n\nShe couldn't figure out why or how she had traveled halfway across the city, leaving her with a severe case of vertigo. She tempted fate and managed a look around again, taking time now to adjust to each object. The edges of the tenement rooftops at the bottom of the hill were just as sharp focus as the Mirades Tower a few miles away. It messed with her sense of depth, but not nearly as much as she'd expected. This was a vivid clarity of her own soul, of her thoughts and emotions, the physical clarity a side effect. This perfect eyesight, which made absolutely no sense to her logically, could only mean one thing, and that fact made her both giddy and nervous at the same time.\n\nShe looked around at the cars and the people around her.\n\nLight.\n\nShe saw university students walking to and from classes. She saw men and women strolling on errands or on their way to work. She saw a young couple in love, walking hand in hand and talking as they headed towards the subway station at the park corner. She saw commuters in their transports and on their bikes and boards, intent on their destination. She saw a young child being dragged along against her will by her impatient mother. The child abruptly turned and stared at her for a moment, acknowledging her presence with boggled surprise. In each and every one of these people, she saw Light. She saw the glittering virgin white of their souls. She read their emotions, she heard the thoughts, and she sensed all of them. She sensed All. And throughout, she remained utterly calm and still. In the midst of it all, she felt Love. She felt their Light. And she accepted it.\n\nI am the One, she reminded herself...but still she could not quite grasp the idea. She couldn't understand what that meant.\n\n\"Ampryss?\" She called her name again, louder.\n\n_Yes, Denysia?_ Ampryss' voice floated in somewhere to her left. She turned, but could not see its origin. She continued to look as she spoke. She knew the answer to the question she was about to ask, but needed to hear the answer just the same. If she was correct, then everything that Ampryss had told her or implied, everything that Caren had told her...then it was all true. She had been awakened, not just because countless other people had been in the last few days. It had been done for a reason. She was the soul of the One of All Sacred in its ninth revelation, here on Earth.\n\n\"Am I...am I in Light?\"\n\nAmpryss did not answer right away. _Yes, Denysia. You are._\n\n\"Oh Goddess...\" she breathed, the expectant chill racing down her back. \"Then it's true.\"\n\nAmpryss did not answer. She didn't need to. \"Why?\" Denni cried out. It was the only thing she could say, for it managed to encompass every single question she had wanted to ask. Why had she been chosen? What was expected of her now? Why was she here in Branden Hill Park? Why this park in particular and not the Crest or Ormand Street Park, nearer to her own neighborhood?\n\n_I bring you here for your own protection,_ Ampryss said.\n\nProtection? Was there a soulsenser out there, a nuhm'ndah trying to find her? A wave of panic rushed over her. Caren's words may have been truer than she had expected. The nuhm'ndah were hunting down the One in order to prevent the Ninth Coming. She realized her own life was in jeopardy now, simply because she had awakened. Could Mum and Dad have known this? Was this why she was never told she was Mendaihu? What else hadn't she been told until now?\n\n\"Why the nuhm'ndah, Ampryss? Why are the nuhm'ndah attacking?\"\n\nThere was no response.\n\n\"Ampryss, answer me!\"\n\nHer voice sounded faint against the howling echoes of the Sprawl. The voices and sounds she thought had come from the city's ambient noise had now become a low, distant thunder that reverberated in her ears. Here in the Sprawl, the rumbling grew louder the longer she stayed in the park, and her sharp vision left a lingering uneasiness in her stomach. She whirled around again, trying to pinpoint Ampryss' location. The woman had said she was on Trisanda right now but she had also said she was nearby, at least in spirit. And if she was going to find her, it wasn't going to happen if she couldn't concentrate. She'd have to calm down first.\n\nShe'd been placed here in the park for a good reason, and not for safety. If she really was the One of All Sacred, odds were good she wasn't going to find a hiding place on this good Earth any time soon. There must be a number of Mendaihu Gharra nearby, already guarding her from a distance, ready to make themselves available at any given moment. A hollow relief, as she would never quite know who they were until that moment they were needed. There had to be a reason...\n\n_This has to do with Caren's case_ , she thought. _The church, the hrrah-sehdhyn..._\n\n\"Ampryss...?\" She could barely hear herself now.\n\nI am here, Denysia.\n\n\"The souls of others,\" Denni said. \"That's it, isn't it? The nuhm'ndah are taking the souls of others...before they're awakened. They're trying to stop the One of All Sacred at the source, aren't they?\"\n\nYes, Denysia.\n\nDenni hugged herself close, chilled by the cold winds rolling over the park slope. \"Why?\"\n\nAmpryss' voice let out a long, slow sigh. _That I do not know, my dear. No one knows as yet. They are cho-nyhndah, but they are the imbalance in the universe, tamed only by the Shenaihu, as the Mendaihu have the kiralla. They are both former soldiers of a long since ended war. It seems this war has not ended for them at all._\n\nDenni let out her own slow breath, holding herself close. There was no political, religious, or even logical reason for the Shenaihu or the Mendaihu for being here, let alone the nuhm'ndah or the kiralla. The Meraladian race had brought this otherworldly spiritualism to Earth, or rather, had awakened the Earth to its ancient fate.\n\n\"This doesn't make any sense at all, Ampryss,\" she said. \"These two factions of spirits...these two energies that are really one in the same. Maybe you're not asking the right people. Or maybe the wrong people are asking. If it's a balance you want...\"\n\nAmpryss sensed her anger and lightened her own. _I agree,_ she said. _But that is easier thought than acted upon, Denysia._\n\n\"That's bullshit and you know it, Ampryss!\" she cried, and didn't care if anyone heard her. \"If we can set aside differences for peace treaties during wartime, then for Goddess' sake _spirits_ can!\"\n\n... _I'm afraid that's not—_\n\n\"Give it a shot, my friend Ampryss,\" she said acidly. \"You don't need the One of All Sacred to iron out petty differences. All you need is your _own_ spirit to do that.\" The temperature suddenly dropped significantly. Denni could see the people around her — bodies illuminated by their own auras and waveforms — speeding up in their motion, heading for the nearest cover from an oncoming rainstorm that had not even reached them yet. She herself had started pacing, waiting for the end of this conversation so she could return, if she could, to the warmth of her own body and the school in Berndette Corner.\n\n_Close your eyes, Denysia,_ Ampryss said.\n\n\"Why?\" she frowned. \"What are you going to do?\"\n\nPlease. I beg you. I must show you this.\n\n\"Now what?\" she said. \"Ampryss, I really need to get back. Caren's probably looking for me — \"\n\n_Denysia! Now!_ Her rough tone took Denni by surprise and she shut her eyes instinctively, and immediately regretted it. She lost her balance and flailed her arms again, expecting to hit the ground, harder this time. Her feet kicked out from under her, but when she didn't feel the ground right away, she screamed.\n\n\"Ampryss!\" she cried.\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n_Karinna,_ she breathed.\n\n*\n\nDenysia...\n\nDenni woke up with a snort. She felt her own body and nothing else. \"N-no, I won't,\" she said, her voice a pathetic whimper.\n\nDenysia!\n\n\"No!\" she cried. \"Leave me alone!\"\n\nOpen your eyes, child.\n\n\"Ampryss!\" she screamed. \"Stop it! Stop this now! Take me back!\"\n\nNo harm is coming to you...please! Open your eyes!\n\nDenni cursed. A cold pain stung her skin and she could not regain her balance, as if she had continued falling into poor Amna and fell further into a black ocean. She inhaled...pure oxygen. Its chill combined with her weightlessness disoriented her, mind and body. Her throat began to convulse in dry heaves. She was coming back into consciousness. Perhaps she had fainted after all? She reached her hands out for some solid object, a bed or a wall or even the floor, but felt nothing. Her eyes had remained closed, and she would keep them that way until she knew where she was. After a long moment, however, she felt a strange yet comforting warmth, behind her and to the right. It enveloped just that side of her body, and for a moment she felt the sensation of moving, or being moved. She tried to focus on it, but it had stopped as soon as she had noticed it.\n\n\"Where am I, Ampryss?\" she called out.\n\nIn solitude, Dearest One. Nothing shall harm you here.\n\nGiving into skepticism and a wavering trust in Ampryss, she opened one eye.\n\nThen, in complete shock, the other.\n\nThe first thing she saw was the curvature. Far off in the distance she saw the intricate cloud patterns stretching over the central American provinces, the clear, flat farming plains, the dark waves of the Appalachian range...then finally the eastern shore, directly below. There, about halfway down that coast...Bridgetown, her home.\n\nSo small, so beautiful.\n\nEarth loomed before her. The warmth behind her had been the radiant energy of the sun, unhindered by the atmosphere.\n\n\"Oh...\" She could not finish her words.\n\nI am with you, Dearest.\n\nShe flailed with little success to move — down? Away? Anywhere other than where she was! A violent chill overtook her body as she tried turning away from the impossibility of what she was seeing. The Earth! She shut her eyes again, refusing to believe any of this. The Earth! She was _above_ the planet. So high! So high...\n\n\"Ampryss...\" she said.\n\n_I am with you,_ Ampryss repeated.\n\n_Earth,_ she thought. She breathed deeply, then once more. _Goddess...!_ She opened her eyes again. Earth. _Peace and Light,_ she reminded herself. _Love, Peace, and Light._\n\nSuch a small planet in the universe. Such an impossibly beautiful world.\n\nDenni exhaled a third time, then wiped away a stray tear. Earth.\n\n\"Home,\" she whispered.\n\n_Gharra,_ Ampryss said. _Home of the Trisandi lineage. It is yours, Dearest One._\n\n\"Goddess...!\" Denni said in exasperation.\n\nGharra is a promised land, Denysia. It is the destiny of the One of All Sacred to stand vigil, to protect it from harm.\n\nDenni furrowed her brow as she began to move her arms and legs slowly, as if she were underwater, to get the muscles moving. \"And I am the One?\" she asked.\n\nWe are all part of the One. You are just the embodiment of the whole.\n\n\"So what I am...\"\n\n... _reflects all that you see below you,_ Ampryss answered.\n\n\"And I see...\"\n\nPoints of light too numerous to count, scattered all over the American continents and even into the seas and into space, blinked into existence all at once. Denni caught her breath as the points of light flashed at her, threatening to incinerate the planet, then softening to a subtle pulsing. She stared at her planet, in particular at the seaside city-province of Bridgetown, the land where she lived, halfway down the eastern coast.\n\nShe felt herself being drawn closer as she focused on her city. She figured out how to control her movements...it was intent. The unspoken half of the Anjshé language. With a bit of bravado she made a sharp dive towards the city, focusing in on it until most of the eastern seaboard was within her focus. Again, she caught her breath. A soft pulsing of life energies that dotted the landscape, covering all the city-provinces and even scattered patches of Wilderlands...the energy waves expanded outwards from Bridgetown, sparking off yet more Light energies each time the wave washed over a city, an outpost, or even a Free City.\n\n_They're still awakening,_ she thought. _It hasn't ended yet!_ \"Ampryss?\" she called out.\n\nYes, Denysia?\n\n\"Is this true? Is the Awakening still in process?\"\n\nIt has not ended, this is true.\n\nShe willed herself to a stop and hovered there, still miles above the city. With a shudder, she spoke out loud: \"I must contain it.\"\n\nA sound resembling a gasp emanated from her spirit guide.\n\n\"Ampryss,\" she said, knowing the woman wouldn't dare question the One of All Sacred in any way. \"Listen to me. We can't awaken everyone at once! Do you realize what would happen? Most of these people wouldn't be able to handle the change! Even if the One — even if _I_ were to teach them all myself somehow, most of them are going to suddenly be full of all this...this...\" Denni stopped, still gazing over Bridgetown. With another arcing of her body, she focused on her sister and began moving towards her home. At the same time she directed her thoughts to Ampryss.\n\n_I'm only guessing, but since I'm the One of All Sacred, I've suddenly become sensitive to all these Mendaihu and Shenaihu powers that I have no real understanding of at this time. Can you imagine someone down there, going through the same thing I am? I don't even know why_ I'm _capable of dealing with this Awakening, Ampryss. Surely I should have lost control sometime earlier this morning. Instead, I feel peace. I'm at peace with myself._\n\nI guess that's the key, isn't it?\n\nShe was getting closer now; the NewCanta Strip, of which Bridgetown sprawl was the southernmost province, began to reveal its contours and details. One by one she began to recognize landmarks and general destinations until she could make out the shore-hugging sprawl of Bridgetown itself. Larger landmarks such as the Crest, Sachers River, and the island at its mouth, became more recognizable as she drew closer. Her skin was warming up, the cold emptiness of space replaced with the warm atmosphere, and her focus getting sharper than ever. At once she realized, upon seeing the pulses of light as well as the focus, she was still in the Veil.\n\nShe saw the tip of the Mirades Tower looming ahead of her when she had an idea. She refocused herself to move back towards the park, and all was Light.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY\n\n_Mendaihu_\n\nA brilliant streak of white light appeared in the sky from out of nowhere, tore its way past the top of the Mirades Tower, made an impossible yet graceful curve around it, then lifted and soared over the Sprawl again before touching down somewhere in Berndette Sector, all in the span of five seconds. It was over before Kai had even registered what had happened.\n\n\"Pashyo!\" she exclaimed, feeling a sudden wave of energy cresting over her own spirit...the aftershock of what she'd just seen. She shuddered and turned to the others in the car. \"Did anyone else see that?\"\n\nPoe shot a quick glance at her as he drove on. \"See what?\"\n\nInstead of answering him, she shifted in her seat and stared at her brother. Ashan stared back, breath held and hands gripping the back of her seat. He did not answer right away, instead turning to Caren. She had remained aloof, staring blankly out the window. She seemed to be content enough that they were driving to Berndette Sector to pick up Denni from Ormand Park School. She had to have sensed it as well, but she was showing no reaction.\n\n\"I certainly felt it,\" Ashan said eventually. He took an uneasy breath and closed his eyes. \"I'm going in.\"\n\n\"Wait!\" Kai said, grabbing his hand. \"Are you sure it's safe?\"\n\n\"Kai —\" he began.\n\n\"I saw it with these eyes, Ashan.\" She gestured at her own irises. \"I saw it before I even sensed it. If it bled over into this reality, it could be anyone.\"\n\n\"What did you see?\" Poe asked again, a slight irritation in his voice.\n\n\"A streak of light,\" she said, glancing quickly at him. \"Like a _se'nyhndah_ , a Lightbody. Souls that can travel completely on Light energy. Immensely strong spirits tend to leave light bleed when they travel, whether it's intentional or not. Never thought I'd see it, though...\"\n\nPoe bristled. \"Are you sure it was a Lightbody?\"\n\n\"It must be,\" Ashan said. \"It felt like...\"\n\n\"Like a ripple in timespace,\" Caren said suddenly. \"Bending reality. Like blurring the line between Light and Life.\"\n\nKai gaped at her. Caren had not said a word, let alone show any emotion whatsoever, since they'd spoken with Kindeiya Shalei. His words had taken a lot out of her, and she had retreated far into her own thoughts and emotions, letting no one in. Kai reached over the seat and let her hand hover in the air for a second before touching Caren's knee. Ashan placed a hand on top of hers. Double protection.\n\n\"You sensed it,\" Ashan said.\n\n\"I sensed _her_ ,\" Caren answered, and faced him with reddening eyes. Her voice was trembling. \"I sensed Denni.\"\n\n\"Poe,\" Kai said, glancing at him.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said gruffly, and headed for the curb.\n\nCaren took an uneasy breath. \"She's that light...the se'nyhndah. It had to be.\" She quickly wiped away a tear with the heel of her palm. \"I know my sister's spirit.\"\n\nKai nodded silently, and turned forward again. She understood Caren's reticence now. She wasn't cutting herself off from them because she was afraid...she was holding back, keeping her own spiritual energy in check. She was extremely vulnerable right now, almost as much as Denni was, and she didn't want anyone else coming to harm. Not under her watch. Kai understood this, because it was a Mendaihu reaction, and Caren knew it instinctively.\n\n_Karinna,_ she said, directing her voice only to her.\n\n_What,_ she answered. Her voice was an unsteady monotone.\n\nI believe she's trying to keep you safe. Let her.\n\n\"Wh— \" Caren started aloud. _Keep_ me _safe?_ A crooked smile of surprise and amusement crossed her lips. _Okay...I understand_. She turned to Ashan. \"Go. We're right here. Just promise me you'll tell me what she's up to.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" he said, eyes already closed.\n\n\"Poe, keep heading up to Ormand Park School,\" Kai said.\n\n\"Got it,\" he said. He was ready to shift back into traffic, when his comm went off. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and upon checking the number, cursed aloud.\n\n\"What?\" Kai said.\n\n\"It's Matthew,\" he said flatly. \"One of our street contacts. Always a sense of timing, that kid.\" He threw on a headset to free his hands, turned on the phone and answered while he pulled back into traffic. It was mostly a one-sided conversation, one that Poe seemed hesitant to have. He nodded and replied with one or two words or grunts, but for the most part remained silent as he drove. It wasn't until he reached the next stoplight that he told Matthew where he was. Kai listened to him with concern, and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. He responded to her touch, much to her surprise, by covering her hand with his. His touch was surprisingly gentle.\n\n_Confirmation,_ she thought, seeing that word in his eyes. It had been Denni after all, and this Matthew knew about her, and who she was.\n\nPoe finished the call and tore the headset off in a fit of anger. \"Damn it!\"\n\nStartled, she pulled her hand away. \"Alec—\"\n\n\"Wait,\" he said, holding up a hand at her. \"Just...hang on a second.\" The traffic light had changed, and he pulled forward slowly. A slow trail of anger emanated from him, but he held it close. He faced her again, this time with a calmness she didn't expect. \"Kai, I want you to soulsense for me. Matthew says there are nuhm'ndah in Berndette Corner, and they're zeroing in on Denni's spirit signature. I need you to tell me where they are.\"\n\nKai gaped at him. \"Alec, I don't know if I —\"\n\n\"Faith,\" he said, grabbing her hand and squeezed it. \"Faith in yourself, kid.\"\n\n_Faith..._ she mused over the word for a moment until she realized she had no idea how to respond to that. _Faith!_ What a strange thing to say.\n\nShe closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles, and all was Light.\n\n*\n\nThere were too many flashes of light in the immediate area to discern one person from the other in this neighborhood, and that was the one negative aspect of entering Light in such a populated area, but Kai soldiered on. She sat perfectly still in the moving car, fully conscious of both this reality and the elsewhere. It took nearly all of her energy to filter out the white noise and achieve that perfect balance.\n\nShe checked in on her brother first. Ashan sat in a near-catatonic state in one reality, while in the other his spirit flickered as he searched for the elusive Denni. Caren sat next to him in the back seat of the car, holding his hand tightly and stroking the small hairs on his wrists with her thumb. Her first concern, and rightly so, was with her sister, but at that very moment she watched over Ashan like the Protector that she was, guarding his Mendaihu body and soul. Kai sent a wave of recognition her way, thanking her for her selflessness. Caren sent the wave back subconsciously, with an added amount of energy...she had chosen to protect her as well.\n\n_Ashan,_ she called out. His aura rippled in response, an ethereal bluish-white mist surrounding his body. His spirit signature was stuck in an excited state, jumping from one emotion to another, attempting to focus but never quite getting there. _Ashan!_ she called a second time. His aura rippled again, this time followed by a quiet hum. It took a few tries, but he was coming back. The ripples eventually ceased and he was calm.\n\n_Taftika..._ he breathed. _She's returned to the school. She's okay...but she's in trouble._\n\nKai's heart dropped. _Let me talk to her._\n\n_She doesn't know you,_ Ashan started. _She won't recognize you. She refused to talk to me._\n\n\"...find her soon,\" she heard, from Poe. His jittery aura, pulsing between dark red and a light blue, rumbled next to hers. \"...almost there.\"\n\n\"School,\" she muttered between the two realities before fading back into elsewhere again. Ashan was still having trouble holding onto a stable foundation, the winds of countless spirits had grown turbulent. There was so much noise here in this neighborhood, much more than there should have been. She tried again, this time reaching out only with the gossamer thread of her consciousness. She aimed it towards the school, and felt the invisible energy pushing at it, forcing her back again. Something or someone was keeping her from moving in Light...but why? Was Denni doing this?\n\nYes. Denni was not only protecting her sister, but everyone in the city.\n\nShe caught her breath and fell awkwardly out of Light and back into her reality. Opened her eyes and felt her temple resting up against the window, her head lolling back and forth from the movement of the car. Breathed in again, and with a slight pain in her skull, pushed herself back into the seat.\n\n_Mendaihu Gharra,_ she thought.\n\n\"She's at the school,\" she heard Ashan say behind her. \"I've tried to contact her, but there's too much noise...\" He had meant to say more, but he had stopped midsentence, the point moot. They knew what was happening, in the midst of all this chaotic energy, in the midst of the nuhm'ndah on their way to capture Denni, in the midst of the growing number of Mendaihu and Shenaihu at the Waterfront. Denysia was now the Ninth Embodiment of the One of All Sacred, and she was exacting balance on everything, whether she fully realized it or not.\n\nKai closed her eyes again and concentrated, willing away the white noise of all the excess energy. _Denysia?_ she called out tentatively.\n\nAgain. _Denysia?_\n\nOnce more. _Denysia! Can you hear me?_\n\n_I hear you._ Denni's voice, small and frail, burrowed through all the static and caught hold. _I hear you...you are someone new. Who are you?_\n\n_Akaina Shalei,_ she said. _You may have heard my brother Asyhntoya calling you. I am here with Karinna. Are you safe?_\n\n_Karinna!_ Denni gasped in horror. _Oh goddess, I've got to get to her..._\n\nKai bit her lip. _Whoa! She's all right. She's with me. Alec is here as well._\n\nKarinna!\n\n\"She's losing focus,\" Kai said to no one in particular.\n\nAkaina? Are you still there?\n\n_Yes..._ Kai was suddenly aware that she had taken hold of Poe's jacket sleeve. She softened her grip and forced herself to breathe evenly. She closed her eyes again, trying to get at least some sort of mental picture, a remote view of what was going on. It took her a few minutes to get a complete scan of the northern part of the Sprawl, now that she knew enough to narrow down her focus to include only Denni's voice and any trace of the nuhm'ndah. She focused on a dimmer Light and called out once again.\n\nDenysia. Are you aware of what's happening to you?\n\nA squeal of pain slipped out of Denni's voice. _I think...I think I do. I know I'm the One. The One of All Sacred...but what's happening to me? I feel...I feel like something's invaded my head! It...it doesn't hurt, but it feels...I can't focus, Akaina, it's making my head spin._\n\n_Nothing can harm you, child,_ Kai soothed. _Light is flowing freely through you for the first time. It can feel disorienting. We're coming. We'll be there as soon as we can._\n\nAkaina! Don't go! Talk to me!\n\n_I'm here, child,_ she soothed. _I'm here. I'm not going to leave you._\n\n\"I can hear her,\" she heard Caren say behind her. \"She's in trouble.\"\n\n\"She's confused,\" Kai corrected. \"She's fully awakened now. But she's in no trouble.\"\n\n\"What about...?\" Poe said.\n\n\"The nuhm'ndah?\" She let out a quick laugh. \"She's holding them back herself.\" Denni had no idea she was doing this; it was the Spirit of the One's strength putting a damper on their sensing. Kai's reverie was short-lived, however, as she realized with a sudden fear that _that_ had been the problem all along — Denni was accepting it all, even though she did not yet understand her own actions. She was acting completely on faith alone.\n\n\"How close are we?\" she asked Poe.\n\n\"About five minutes,\" he said.\n\nShe nodded to him and closed her eyes again. _Denysia,_ she called out.\n\n_I'm here,_ the girl answered, obviously tired but sounding more relaxed. _I'm okay now...feeling better._\n\n_Good girl,_ she said, and breathed a sigh of relief. _Can you focus?_\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-ONE\n\n_cho-nyhndah_\n\nThe light faded to a calm, enveloping darkness. The turbulent ocean of noise receded into near silence, broken only by shallow breathing. Denni regained her sense of balance and felt the ground slowly rising up to meet her again. She felt cold tile on her back and the damp of a cloth on her forehead. She felt a pain in her lower back, the remnants of the strain she had exerted on it during flight. She lay there with a stupid half-grin on her face, trying to figure out the logic of that — she had _flown_.\n\nDenysia? Can you focus?\n\nThe sound of Akaina's voice shook her completely awake. Where was she? Was she back at school? Was Amna still with her?\n\n\"Ah...\" she croaked. \"Amna?\"\n\n\"I'm here.\"\n\nShe opened her eyes with relief. She had moved from the third floor restroom to a small, darkened room elsewhere in the school. A faint smell of bleach and mildew lingered in the air. The door was open slightly, letting in fresh air and a sliver of light that bounced against a large dented metal cabinet. Definitely a janitor's closet. She turned again and saw the faint outline of Amna's thin frame hovering over her, a wisp of black hair hanging over her right shoulder. She was peeking through the narrow opening, keeping an eye out for anyone coming.\n\n\"Thanks,\" she managed.\n\n\"Scared the shit out of me, Den,\" Amna said in an exasperated whisper. \"What the hell happened?\"\n\nDenni?\n\n_I'm awake now_ , she said to Akaina. _Focused as I'll ever be..._ She frowned at the pain in her joints as she attempted to push herself up. _Back at the school._\n\n\"Who are you talking to now?\" Amna asked. \"I can hear them.\"\n\n\"Friend of my sister's,\" she said. \"They're coming here. They're picking me up.\"\n\n\"Thought I lost you for a moment there,\" Amna said, and let out a quick snort. \"You're awfully heavy deadweight, you know that?\"\n\nShe gave her a feeble laugh. \"I know. I'm sorry.\"\n\nAmna pushed herself off her knees and sat cross-legged on the floor. She took Denni's hand and squeezed it tight, her wordless show of affection and concern; the only way she ever truly showed those emotions. She reached over and took the damp cloth from Denni's forehead, tossed it into the sink behind her, and with her wet hand she pushed back the loose strands of Denni's hair from her face. Denni noticed, now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkened room, that Amna's eyes were moist from tears.\n\nSo what happened?\n\nDenni pursed her lips. \"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather tell you out loud.\"\n\n_Who was that?_ Akaina popped into her head. For the moment she'd forgotten she was still there. She held up a hand at Amna to hold her thoughts.\n\n_Friend of mine, Akaina,_ she said. _She's keeping an eye on me._\n\n_We'll be there in a few minutes,_ she answered. _Can she stay there with you?_\n\nAmna nodded quickly. Denni blushed in the semidarkness, not used to such loyalty. She relayed the consent to Akaina, adding a special message to send to Caren, telling her not to worry, and heard nothing more.\n\n\"So?\" Amna said, smirking. \"Are we going to stay hidden in here until your sister comes and picks you up?\"\n\nDenni sniffed at the tone of her comment. \"How long were we away?\"\n\nAmna checked her watch. \"A good half hour, I think.\"\n\nShe laughed in spite of herself. \"Oops. I'm sure we can find a decent excuse by the time we get sent to the office.\" With a final grunt she pushed herself up until they were both back on their feet, ready to escape the cramped closet. She felt Amna by her side, arm around her waist, guiding her to the door, leading them back into dull reality. Thankfully, no one had been in this hallway either, so anyone entering now would have seen a class rep walking an ill student to the nurse's office. Denni frowned, wondering why her friend was acting so out of character. Showing flourishes of genuine emotion, going out of her way to take care of her, making sure no one saw them, moving as quietly as possible...on any other day, Amna would have done the same, but she would have made a production out of it in her usual boisterous way. She appreciated the attention, but it was just so unlike her.\n\n\"I didn't hurt you, did I?\" Denni asked as a way to fill the awkward silence. \"When I fainted, I mean.\"\n\n\"No,\" she answered quietly. \"Shaken, more than anything else. Um...you didn't tell me what happened.\"\n\nDenni nodded. \"Just between the two of us, okay? And aloud, because I don't know who's listening.\"\n\nAmna frowned. \"Den, if I overstepped a boundary —\"\n\n\"No, no, that's...that was fine,\" she said quickly, her face hot. \"In fact, you pointed out something important. If _you_ could hear me, then anyone can.\" She paused again, letting out a long sigh. \"And I don't think that would be a good idea right now, given the last few days.\"\n\nShe told Amna all she could remember in the conversation with Ampryss and where she had gone and what she'd seen. In retelling the events, she tried to understand them herself, wondering why she'd been able to do so many things she thought impossible, even for a Mendaihu. Especially a Mendaihu with her incredible lack of experience. She had understood exactly what was going on and what she would need to do next...but how did she know this? Had she come up with it herself, or had the spirit of the One of All Sacred done that for her? Who had been in charge then?\n\nHow had she been able to soar above the heavens and into near space to look over the entire planet? And what exactly did she do, once she returned to Bridgetown? It wasn't her, mentally, that had made the decision to stop the awakening ritual; nor was it her idea to misdirect the nuhm'ndah that she somehow knew were in the area, triangulating her spirit signature in their attempt to kidnap her. Or was it?\n\nWhat had happened? And why did her body feel drained of energy when her mind and spirit were radiant and overflowing with it? She wasn't fully in control of her spirit, not yet. Balance...she desperately needed to find that balance in between.\n\n_Karinna,_ she thought, wishing her sister here as soon as possible. Perhaps Caren could explain this duality to her.\n\n\"Denni?\" Amna said after a long silence. \"I know it kind sounds weird, but...\" She paused again and blushed. So totally unlike her. \"I...I need to come with you. No, don't question it. I can feel it, Den. I hear my soul singing, and it's so loud right now. I can't...\" She caught her voice, forcing back tears. \"I can't lose you right now.\"\n\nDenni caught her breath...she knew. Goddess, Amna fully believe she truly was the One of All Sacred, and she wasn't going to question it. A hell of a lot was happening to her in a short amount of time, and Amna's conviction only sealed this fate of theirs. Neither had grown up second-guessing their own Mendaihu spirits, so she wasn't about to question what Amna's soul was singing. She obviously feared for Amna's own safety, but she also welcomed her.\n\n\"... _taftika iedha_ ,\" she said quietly. \"You are always welcome.\"\n\nAmna did not respond, but only held her tighter.\n\n*\n\n\"We're almost out of time,\" Denni said to no one in particular.\n\n\"We have more than we need,\" Poe said and craned his neck back from the driver's seat. \"According to Kindeiya, we have another four hours.\"\n\nDenni snorted. \"A lot can happen.\" They had been driving around aimlessly for two hours already, not really searching for anything, not even trying to find a place to await the inevitable...and she knew that she would eventually make her way to the Moulding Warehouse, even if everyone else tried to prevent it. She dared not show her thoughts to the others, let alone tell them, but she'd immediately understood why she had to be there at that time. It was all part of the delicate balance she had to protect.\n\nShould she tell them that keeping her from her duties was pointless, that she knew she'd eventually fulfill Kindeiya's prophecy, by whatever means? She could go there now, at least through this newly acquired ability of Lightwalking. This way she would be present, at least spiritually. Just the idea of it exhausted her, however. Her head was still spinning from the all the travel. Even though she had regained her energy, her instincts told her not to waste any more.\n\n_Denysia_.\n\nShe heard Caren's soft voice calling within her. She glanced around at the others in the car, wondering if anyone else heard her. She was in the back seat, sandwiched between Caren and Ashan. She half-smiled...it occurred to her that this car was probably the safest place in the entire Sprawl right now.\n\nAgain, she wasn't quite sure _how_ she knew this...just that it made sense. It was that unspoken soulsensing that all Mendaihu had, of understanding the spirit and its intent. She understood that most of all. After a moment, she decided that it didn't matter if the others heard them as they spoke within. They knew well enough to honor their privacy.\n\n_Karinna,_ she answered back.\n\nShe felt Caren's hand reach over and take hers, squeezing it once. She smiled softly, like she always had done when she watched over her since she was small. Always protective, always loving. _You may be the One of All Sacred, but you're still my little sister,_ she said. _I can still kick your butt if you get out of line._\n\nA snort of laughter burst out of her before she could stop it. She felt her face redden, and again wondered if anyone else had heard that. _I'll keep it in mind,_ she said, only half in jest. She knew that, underneath this grand spectacle of religious fervor that would soon come to her unbidding, Caren would always see her as her little sister and she would never stop watching over her.\n\n*\n\nA half hour later they had made their way north on Krieger Avenue when Poe made the decision to go to the Crest. She was relieved to be going _somewhere_ rather than poking around the Sprawl for the next three hours, but she was more than happy to be going up to Breed's Hill Park. The change from manmade buildings to natural surroundings would be quite welcome.\n\nOut of curiosity, she asked Amna if she had ever gone up there; she had answered that she had driven by plenty of times, as a cousin of hers owned a small summer house not too far from the park. As for the Crest, she had never actually climbed all the way up.\n\n\"It's not so much a climb as a stroll,\" Poe said. \"I go up there all the time to clear my head.\"\n\nUnexpectedly, Denni felt a connection, a thin strand of spirit between him and the Mendaihu agent. Kai had given him a warm smile that he'd returned. Nothing was said, but a connection had been made, a fresh one, and a strong one at that. In spite of herself, she smiled. _Bless you, Alec,_ she thought, only to herself. He certainly deserved it. _Bless the both of you._\n\nCaren, in the meantime, had been glancing out the window at the passing buildings and markets, watching all the people walking the streets. Denni saw a kind of resigned sadness on her face that she had not seen for a long time, not since their parents died. She'd once again detached herself not only from the others but from her surroundings, merely going through the motions set in front of her. She was on the verge of falling inwards again, just like she had done five years ago. She had never properly come to terms with any of it. The only thing that kept her from completely detaching from reality was her devotion, to her position as an Alien Relations agent and as older sister and caretaker. She had never fully accepted her fate as a Mendaihu, and she definitely hadn't come to grips with her little sister awakening to become a major deity. Her own guilt, combined with the added stress of recent events, must be taking its toll on her. Denni breathed out a long, quiet sigh and dropped her head onto Caren's shoulder.\n\n_Hey,_ she said, focusing only towards her.\n\n_Hmm?_ Caren shook herself out of her reverie and faced her. The expression on her face was that of well-hidden surprise.\n\n_You know..._ she started, then paused. She looked into Caren's eyes, searching for that oft-seen tower of strength that her spirit held. Denni knew it was there...it had _always_ been there, through the worst of their pain. She focused both eyesight and spiritsense towards her, and found it...in her heart chakra, right where it always was and always would be. She focused the intent at that precise spot and started again.\n\n_Karinna..._ she started again. _You'll never lose me, you know. I know how you feel about Mum and Dad's deaths. You're hurting enough for the both of us._\n\nShe stopped again, wondering what to say next. They stared at each other, oddly without self-conscious discomfort, each wondering what the other would say next. For a moment the rest of the worlds didn't matter. Denni didn't care who else was sitting in the car or that any of this really existed. Just the moment now, with the two of them together and feeling completely invulnerable to anything except their own emotions. That moment was all that mattered between the two of them. Denni reached an arm across and embraced her.\n\nI promise, Karinna...I promise I will help you heal. We both will heal together.\n\nA stifled gasp slipped past Caren's lips, a sound only Denni heard, and sent an intensely strong wave of love back at her. _Thank you,_ she said, offering a lopsided smile as she wiped away a tear. She pulled Denni into an embrace and held her tight, and Denni knew she would never let go. Not completely.\n\nDenysia. We must talk again.\n\n\"Oh, crap,\" she mumbled.\n\nCaren bristled; she must have heard the voice as well. \"What's wrong?\"\n\n_I heard you,_ she answered. \"It's...it's Ampryss,\" she said aloud.\n\nCaren paled. \"Ampryss?\"\n\n\"She's...\" she stumbled again. \"She's a spirit guide.\"\n\n\"I know who she is,\" Caren started again unevenly. \"She talked to me earlier...briefly. I didn't know she was the one who spoke to you that night.\"\n\nDenni sensed the ears of everyone in the car pricking up. \"I trust her. Poe, she needs to talk to me again. Are we almost at the Crest?\"\n\nPoe called out over his shoulder; even his voice had wavered at Ampryss' name. \"About three miles to the exit. We're almost there.\"\n\n_I'll contact you in fifteen minutes, Ampryss,_ she called out. She wanted to add more, but forced herself not to.\n\n_It is done,_ was the answer, and she left her alone.\n\n*\n\nKai sat cross-legged on the rocky ground at the Crest, to Denni's right. Everyone had subconsciously stood or taken a seat on either side of the young girl, a miniature _hrrah-sehdhyn_ of protection around her. Her friend sat up front, Caren at her left, with Ashan and Poe taking up the rear. Poe was nearest her, only a few short steps away. She'd only noticed their positions minutes later when she felt a shiver through her spirit, when Denni had contacted Ampryss again.\n\nShe glanced at Poe again, watching him silently. He was looking out over the Sprawl with a different sight now...he was no longer up here to clear his head, not anymore. There was a saddened look in his eyes, as if he understood what his city was about to face, and he felt powerless to protect it. Tentatively she moved closer to him, sliding her arm underneath his and taking hold of his hand. He looked down at their entwined fingers, first with an expression of surprise, then with genuine comfort. His eyes met hers at the same time, for the first time intentionally. Guiltily she peered through his hazel eyes into the shimmering light that was his soul...and realized that it was staring back at hers, searching and hoping for a love that transcended over all this. With conviction she promised herself she would try to give as much as she received.\n\n_We do not need words,_ she thought, comforted by that. _Just ourselves._\n\nSitting on a boulder a few yards away, Ashan cleared his throat to make sure he had her attention. Blushing, she covered her mouth to hide a giggle and faced him.\n\n_She has been talking to Ampryss for the last half hour,_ her brother said. _But even I can't hear a thing. She won't let us in._\n\nKai nodded, not knowing what else she could add. Minutes after they had made their way up the winding path to the summit and settled on the rocks, Denni — who on first view of the Sprawl from this vantage point had stared in slack jawed and teary-eyed wonderment as if she had never been up here before — had suddenly grown silent and moved some distance away from the others. She had found a seat that was a little too close to the Crest's edge for Caren's comfort, but had maintained enough distance to remain safe. The young friend, Amna, had taken sentry position, sitting cross-legged on Poe's outcropping of rock and enjoying the view. The others had eventually taken their position soon after.\n\n_Amna can hear a little bit,_ Ashan said. _She said she had heard Ampryss at the school, just enough to feel a presence but not enough to understand it. For Denni's sake, she's not saying anything until this is over._\n\n_Until_ what _is over?_ Kai said with a little more edge to her voice than she'd intended. _This fiasco, or her conversation?_\n\n_I do not know,_ he answered.\n\n\"What do you think?\" Alec said. Startled, Kai turned to him to answer, until she realized he'd spoken to Caren. \"Nice view, yeah?\"\n\n\"Not bad,\" she said, noncommittally.\n\nPoe's eyes suddenly sparkled. \"Hey, you know who'd love it up here? Christine Gorecki.\"\n\nThe mention of the woman's name lifted Caren's mood significantly. \"Christine! Goodness, I haven't thought of her in a long time! Sure, she'd love it up here. All the space and peace she'd need for her spiritwork.\"\n\n\"I really should call her,\" Poe said. \"I'd almost feel guilty if we didn't involve her in this somehow.\" He turned to Kai and smiled. \"Christine's one of the best freelance spiritworkers in the Sprawl.\"\n\n\"Has she worked with the two of you?\" she asked.\n\n\"Off and on,\" Caren said. \"She used to be in the Branden Hill ARU, but she quit about six months ago and we haven't seen nor heard from her since.\"\n\n\"Her choice,\" Poe added. \"'Spiritual burnout' is what she told me.\"\n\nCaren turned back to the city, a somber look in her eyes. \"It's truly a great view, but it would be better without the storm,\" she said. \"Is that cell going to hit anytime soon, or is it just going to sit there over the suburbs?\"\n\n\"NewsComm reported a light shower,\" he answered. \"Though those clouds are a bit dark for it. Don't suppose this _uprising_ has anything to do with it?\"\n\nCaren raised a skeptical eyebrow. \"Accumulation of spirit energy? There'd definitely be some sort of disturbance, but nothing that big. Kai, what do you think?\"\n\n\"Could be, but I'm not sure,\" she said, hating herself once again for not telling her the full truth. \"Although I'm not very good at reading residual energies as such. You'd want someone who could read more closely than I could...\"\n\n\"...like Nehalé Usarai,\" Caren finished. \"I've thought of that. Either way, it's screwing up the launch-and-land windows for the Nullport, by the looks of it. I haven't seen a transit ship _or_ a payload in the last three hours...and that's not normal. I know the weather's bad, but not enough to warrant shutdowns. Any more of this and we'll effectively be cut off from the rest of the CNF.\"\n\nAs soon as she had finished those words, Kai knew Caren had regretted them.\n\nPoe finally answered after an uncomfortably long pause. \"Would the Shenaihu go that far?\"\n\n\"It depends,\" Ashan said coldly. \"But let's not dwell on something that may or may not be true. Besides, it looks as though she's coming out of it.\" He lifted his chin up in Denni's direction. She had come out of her trance, peaceful as it may have looked to the others, shaken and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Amna moved in first, comforting her in her return, whispering calming words to her as she passed the waking state into full consciousness.\n\nAware that everyone was looking in her direction, Denni quietly stood up and stretched. There was a strange calm about her, a peace that had risen above everything else, as if all the questions that had bothered her emotionally and intellectually had finally been answered. The gesture of a soft smile as she looked in their direction was a blessing from her now, and they knew it. She had uncovered the truth of the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu; it was beyond any simple explanation that she could give. She would have to teach them herself.\n\n\"What time is it?\" she asked.\n\nPoe checked his watch. \"It's about quarter to two.\"\n\nDenni smiled at him and with a few tripping hops over the ledge's rocky covering she stood in front of him. It was the adoration of a young girl who looked up to him like an older brother. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried herself into his uniform. Surprised and touched, he reciprocated, encircling her with one arm around her back and the other clutching her opposite shoulder, just like he always did.\n\n\"Strength,\" she said to him softly. \"Keep your strength, Poe. It's your greatest asset.\" She pulled out of the embrace, and made her way towards the spot she had taken earlier. She stood there, back to the others, looking out over the Sprawl as if she commanded it, and nodded. \"It will happen,\" she said out loud.\n\n\"What will?\" Caren asked, making no attempt to hide her concern.\n\n\"The Shenaihu and the Mendaihu will reunite,\" she said.\n\nBoth Kai and Ashan froze. She glanced at her brother, but once again he was stone-faced. She desperately needed to know what Ampryss had told her now; this had not been an expected move from the One of All Sacred.\n\nDenni faced them without missing a beat. The smile was gone, replaced by a sober acceptance. \"Not right away, of course. And not without the expense of lives and spirits. But if all goes according to plan, then there is little to worry about. Which is why I have to be down at the warehouse at four.\"\n\n\"What happens at four?\" Ashan asked.\n\nDenni flashed him a smile. \"You'll know soon enough, sehnadha. Everyone here will be a part of it.\"\n\n\"Denni —\" Caren started.\n\n\"Remember what I said on the way here,\" she said, cutting her off. \"You won't lose me, Karinna. I'm always here. You, of all people, will be there for me when I most need it.\"\n\nCaren started to ask, but thought better of it. If Denni knew what was going to happen, then she would not bother asking.\n\n\"We should go now,\" she continued. \"The earlier the better.\" She bounded back off the ledge and started down the descending path. Amna followed quickly after her, wordlessly but with a wide smile. The four adults remained there, feeling more than a little skeptical and unsure of what had just happened.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-TWO\n\n_Shenaihu - Mendaihu_\n\n\"Let me tell you something,\" Natianos said with a smile, and laid a brotherly arm around Janoss' shoulders. \"This occurred to me some time ago, while I was sitting here in this very field of grass, contemplating the fate of Gharra.\"\n\nJanoss' eyes lit up. \"How long have you been coming here? I thought this was sacred ground!\"\n\nNatianos let him wonder. \"It is, my eicho. Trisanda is indeed the most sacred ground in Meraladian existence. We are always welcome to visit it, if we respect it. May I continue?\"\n\n\"Yes...yes, of course.\" Janoss lowered his head. \"Nyhnd'aladh, Dahné. I am sorry for interrupting.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Now, it occurred to me...that if we, as Meraladians, do in fact have an ancestral link to Gharné humans, and that we, as Meraladians, are the more direct link of the Trisandi race, would it not be so that we should claim superiority?\"\n\nNatianos paused, leaving a long, uncomfortable silence between the two. He could tell Janoss was formulating an answer that would neither sound blasphemous to the One nor betray his loyalty to the Shenaihu. In his human skin, Janoss was sweating profusely, partly from the warm air but mostly from fear. He let the man ponder a few seconds longer, just to realize the seriousness of the subject.\n\n\"That's not exactly the point I'm trying to make, Janoss. That was only the first thing I thought of. There is also the fact that we can only visit Trisanda in our purest form, our True Self.\"\n\nJanoss gestured to his own simple human body. \"This is not my True Self, Dahné. Our true Shenaihu bodies are kiralla in form.\"\n\nAgain, Natianos laughed politely. He had to hand it to Janoss; the man had intelligence, though unfortunately for him it was not always used. \"No, my dear friend. That is the self-image of our Spirit once we step into Light.\" He quickly added, \"And sometimes in other realities, if we so choose. Just as the Mendaihu often choose the seraphic form. It is a physical extension of how we see our own spirits. I admit I chose my kiralla self to coax you to the upper floors of the Tower by way of fear. But right now, as you stand here on Trisanda, everything you see, everything you envision in your mind as your self, is stripped away. Trisanda only shows you the _truth._ Look at me — I am but a man. A tall man, as on Earth, but a man nonetheless. Just as your appearance is nearly the same as it is on Earth.\"\n\n\"I see,\" he said. \"So why is it, Dahné, that you and I can come here so easily now?\"\n\n\"The answer is simple,\" Natianos smiled. \"It is because we have been fully awakened. Gharné humans have not, due to their cultural evolution — religions, governments, cultures, social climes...all skewered their true history, both by direct and indirect means. They have been distanced from us for so long that they do not remember.\"\n\n\"Unless they are reminded somehow,\" Janoss said. \"Perhaps if they are awakened by a ritual of some forceful magnitude...like Nehalé Usarai's.\"\n\n\"Precisely,\" he nodded. \"And he's planning to do it again. He's gathering Mendaihu from around the Sprawl as we speak.\" He explained the reason for the growing number of Mendaihu gathering in the Waterfront District at one unused warehouse. He gave no clues as to what he thought about the sheer number of people in one place, though compared to the overall population of Bridgetown Central it was merely a small family reunion. \"There are claims that it's under the guise of witnessing the Ninth Coming of the One of All Sacred, but I do not think that is his real motive.\"\n\nJanoss purposely avoided his glare by pacing back and forth in a small clearance in the field they stood in and working his jaw as if thinking deeply on all of this. Natianos smirked, amused at his friend's beleaguered attempts to constantly gain his favor; Janoss already had that, and had it ages ago, if he would only calm himself and notice.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Janoss said, finally facing him, though his eyes still strayed away. \"But I can't think of any other reason why. If the Mendaihu were gathering for battle as it were, first of all we would have seen proof already. I've never known them to be agreeable to violence on a grand scale. You know as well as I that our five-point response was just that — an equal Shenaihu response to a Mendaihu action. I completely understand that edha Usarai's actions at the cathedral were purely defensive.\"\n\n\"That is why we are here,\" Natianos said, grabbed him by the arm and gently pulled him along. \"Come, let us walk. This planet is too beautiful to enjoy in just one spot.\" He led him down a small embankment and towards the sound of a nearby creek. He said nothing the entire time, letting Janoss take in the scenery. The man found considerable fascination in the wildlife that roamed nearby, clearly not expecting to find mammals similar to Earthbound bears and deer roaming in the same forest as Meraladian creatures such as the wolflike _gundaevi_ and the feline _jenha_ and not trying to tear each other apart in a territorial war.\n\n\"As soon as we return, we must bring our forces together,\" he continued. \"Our nuhm'ndah brothers still occupy the areas surrounding the hrrah-sehdhyn points, but we must have more.\"\n\nJanoss grimaced, hiding his frown behind a hand. \"Could be viewed negatively,\" he said after a few long moments. \"It would look too much like a battlefield.\"\n\n\"So much the better,\" Natianos smiled. \"If that's what we have to do to get the point across.\"\n\nJanoss looked at him aghast.\n\n\"Understand this, my dear brother in spirit,\" he warned. \"The Shenaihu are not to be deserted again. Twenty-five years ago we tried again to reclaim our rightful place within the Realm of the One of All Sacred, and again we were shunned...nearly annihilated _._ What the Mendaihu do not understand is that we truly are equals. One cannot exist without the other, for everything would fall apart.\"\n\nNatianos paused, giving Janoss a brief moment to let it sink in.\n\n\"Look,\" he said, pointing towards the animals. The gundaevi had stopped near the creek and lowered its head to drink. Not twenty feet downstream on the opposite side, the jenha had done the same. \"On Gharra, one would have picked up the scent of the other at a distance of at least twenty yards. The gundaevi would have preyed on the jenha by now and fed on its carcass. Yet there they are, sharing the same water. Here on Trisanda, where all is truth, they are equals. Their spirits acknowledge one another. That is not to say that the gundaevi do not kill jenha at all — its instinct to survive overwhelms that moral standing — they do hunt each other...and it is accepted as a truth of Life. Do you understand, my sehnadha?\"\n\nJanoss could not bring himself to look him in the eyes.\n\n\"Picture the Shenaihu as the gundaevi,\" he continued. \"We prey, we kill, we feed...but all in the name of survival. That is our inherent nature, Janoss. The Mendaihu see us as cold-blooded and coldhearted. We are just as vulnerable, just as spiritual as they are! But they do not understand. Or they do not _care_ to understand. We Shenaihuza felt abandoned when the Mendaihuza departed for Meraladh. Why did they leave our second homeworld? Come to think of it, why did they leave Trisanda in the first place?\"\n\nJanoss glanced at him in curiosity. \"Which continent are we on, by the way?\"\n\nThe question momentarily took Natianos off course, but he recovered quickly. \"I believe we are on Gharra Shehiza, Janoss. The larger of the five. Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"This place just seems so damn familiar to me,\" he said, \"though I'm not sure why. I know I've never been here before.\"\n\nNatianos laughed. \"Ancient memories, my friend. Everyone has them. I'm sure if any Earth human were to come here, they would no doubt feel the same. I felt the same thing when I first came here.\" He ventured a little further, seeing that Janoss was finally beginning to grasp what he was telling him. \"The Shenaihu and the Mendaihu were once a single sacred tribe of the One of All Sacred, Janoss. You'll forgive me if I misuse Earth mythological analogies here, but the idea is essentially the same. From these two tribes the rest of the Trisandi race descended. The two tribes lived here, on the Gharra Shehiza continent, in relative peace for thousands of years. The One of All Sacred visited them numerous times, teaching them the ways of the Spirit, and reminding us — more of a constant nagging, really, if you ever read the Trisandi Texts — that Trisanda is the homeworld, _our_ homeworld, and that we must _never_ forget this ground we stand on.\n\n\"To reinforce that rule, the One of All Sacred then gave responsibilities to the two tribes. The Shenaihu grew to be keepers of the planet, watchers of nature. They were given the responsibility of maintaining the natural evolution of Trisanda. That is not to say that great cities were forbidden...\" Janoss pointed off in the distance, what he believed was eastward. \"In fact, the great city of Bahn Dassah lies about fifteen miles that way. Over time, the Shenaihu became the landowners, the farmers...the agriculturists keeping this planet as pristine as you sense it now.\n\n\"The Mendaihu, on the other hand, were chosen to be keepers and watchers of the people. They have maintained their responsibility to this day, a quality that is quite commendable. They became the civil leaders, the protectors, and the doctors and healers, all occupations that helped other Trisandi.\"\n\n\"Fascinating,\" Janoss said. Natianos couldn't tell if his tone of voice had been sarcastic or not. \"However,\" he continued, \"that doesn't account for why the two are such spiritual and mortal enemies.\"\n\nHe pointed at the two animals. Both the gundaevi and the jenha were busy grooming themselves at opposite sides of the bank. Natianos let out a piercing whistle. The animals perked their heads up in alarm, saw the two humans, and darted away in separate directions.\n\n\"A division of souls,\" he said. \"Somewhere, at some point, the two tribes split. It could be that expanding skyward was the next logical step in Trisandi cultural and spiritual evolution, and the Mendaihu took to it more than the Shenaihu did.\" He watched the two animals continued to flee, soon lost among the trees and the underbrush. \"I'd like to think that our animosity was caused by something a little less trivial.\"\n\n\"I would think so,\" Janoss said. \"One would think that the expansion towards Meraladh was not a purely Mendaihu project. There must have been Shenaihuza involved.\"\n\n\"And Mendaihuza who were not,\" Natianos added.\n\n\"Precisely.\"\n\n\"There is no evidence to the contrary,\" he said. \"All the spoken histories tell us of the bitter division that grew between the two tribes. The Shenaihu are reportedly angered by the fact that they are left alone on Trisanda. I for one would not have been, but considering the importance of the symbiotic culture at the time, I can understand. The Mendaihu tried to maintain the connection across space, perhaps as a compromise or maybe even as a genuine attempt to keep everything as it was between the two tribes.\n\n\"This is where nulltech comes in, Janoss. A combination of technical and spiritual energies that lets the spirit carry the body instead of the logical vice versa. The spatial _nothingness_ between the two points — the lack of space and time, I mean — is a highway for the surreal, the energies of the spirit. It is how you and I have made it here to Trisanda.\"\n\nJanoss shot him a sarcastic half-smile, as if to say _well that would finally explain things,_ and started towards the creek. He bent over, cupped his hands, and lifted the cool water to his mouth. Natianos was sure that was a calculated move, just to prove to himself that he was, in fact, on Trisanda.\n\n\"Does it taste any different?\" Natianos asked.\n\nJanoss popped his head up. \"Should it?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't know,\" he laughed. \"I'm merely curious. I haven't drunk the water here yet.\"\n\n\"Tastes okay to me.\" He pushed himself up, drying his hands on his jacket. \"So nulltech was their form of transworld communication and travel, right?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he nodded. \"And there's no proof to the contrary that it didn't work. In fact, it did quite the opposite of what the legends say. Once they mastered communication and travel between Trisanda and Meraladh, there was only one logical next step.\"\n\n\"Skyward again,\" Janoss said.\n\n\"Gharra, to be exact. Although, it was not the Meraladians who shot to Gharra...it was the remaining Trisandi. The Shenaihu, the ones who stayed.\"\n\nJanoss stopped walking. \"The Trisandi? But wouldn't it have been shorter, going from Trisanda to Meraladh to Gharra? Why would they make such an insane leap from here to there?\"\n\nNatianos shrugged, and gently prodded him forward. \"Again, I do not know. Maybe to create a direct link. The halfway point — Mannaka, in the Andromeda galaxy — is where they stopped temporarily. It is unknown how long they stayed there, but Mannaka soon became one of the most important colonies in this part of the universe. It's now the main thoroughfare of the Crimson-Null Federation. Personally, I believe the origin of our animosity comes from our time at Mannaka.\"\n\nJanoss frowned at him. \"How so?\"\n\n\"At that time, the Shenaihu and Mendaihu were still bitter enemies. Our histories concede to that. But that does not explain how they came to be peaceful allies once we arrived at Gharra. Something must have happened within the Shenaihuza tribe while at Mannaka, or Gharra would only be populated by Mendaihuza. That is all I know, however.\"\n\n\"So after a while, the Mannaki sent others onwards towards Gharra, correct?\" Janoss said.\n\n\"Indeed. They became the Earth humans you see today. The Gharné are left alone for untold eras, creating their own civilizations, cultures and histories. It isn't until quite recently — close to three hundred years ago this October — that the Mannaki decide to contact Gharra again. By this time, Gharra is now named Earth, and Earth has completely forgotten about us.\"\n\n\"You said the Mannaki contacted Earth,\" Janoss said. \"Forgive my boldness, my Dahné, I thought the Meraladians contacted them.\"\n\n\"They did,\" he said flatly. \"The Meraladians met up with the Mannaki later on, but before they re-established Earth contact. In true Mendaihu form, they felt it was high time that we did so, and if we weren't going to do it, they would. This is central to my theory of the Shenaihu-Mendaihu split. A Shenaihuza would not have given in to such bossing around so easily.\" He kept his own opinion on that subject to himself: they didn't give them a chance to prove themselves, even though they sowed the seeds of thousands of generations.\n\n\"A matter of trust, perhaps?\" Janoss ventured. \"Perhaps the Mendaihu didn't fully trust the Shenaihu?\"\n\nNatianos grimaced. \"Possible, but highly unlikely.\"\n\nBut Janoss was on a roll. \"Think about it, Dahné. The Shenaihu were more in tune with nature's spirits than they were with their own. Perhaps the Mendaihu saw that as a flaw, a weakness if you will.\"\n\nNatianos scowled at him. \"Make some sense, will you, Janoss? That goes completely against what we've been working for all this time! Pashyo! Our hrrah-sehdhyn would have been completely pointless if that were true!\"\n\nJanoss blanched, suddenly realizing his mistake. \"I am sorry, Dahné.\"\n\nNatianos brushed off the apology. \"We attacked, Janoss, because we needed to stop the Mendaihu _before they get out of hand_. They're trying to awaken everyone at once. Do you realize what would happen if they succeed?\" Janoss chose not to respond, and Natianos answered for him. \"They Awaken to the spiritual side of the Mendaihu, Janoss. Regardless of their Shenaihu influence. Completely oblivious of the spirits of nature. We'd have a planet full of egotistical zealots. _That_ is why we need to get a hold of the girl, Janoss.\"\n\n\"The...?\"\n\n\"Dennise Johnson,\" he said flatly. \"The One of All Sacred. We need her. We _all_ need her, to give us balance again.\"\n\nJanoss understood, and nodded silently.\n\n\"Let us return, Janoss,\" Natianos said as they climbed the hill back to the clearing in the field. \"There is precious little time left.\"\n\n*\n\nNehalé was exhausted. He needed to get some rest soon, even just to close his eyes for a few minutes. There were now over five thousand people here, filling up nearly three-quarters of the warehouse, all under his care now. Some had clustered into talkative packs in the vacant nooks where machinery once stood, while others had taken refuge within the remaining storage racks to create a flat house type of shelter. Nehalé had made it a point to prove to these people that he was Mendaihu as they were, on the same level and not a prophet or elder above their stature. He'd spent the entire afternoon making the rounds and talking with whoever wished to speak with him, and there had been many. It had been slow going, but it had been worth it. He'd also been able to get a bead on the signatures of a good number of people here. He didn't want a repeat of the church, or the awakening ritual. He learned his lesson...he didn't want to relive that knife-pain of spirit loss again. If he lost anyone else, he needed to know who they were.\n\nHe returned to the main office area to calm himself down and relax, when he found Anando standing near the stairway, talking to two younger women who were listening to his words with middling fascination. He grinned, wondering what the kid could possibly be doing to impress them, because it obviously wasn't working. He made his way over to them, but the girls had bid farewell and walked away before he could introduce himself.\n\n\"I don't know how you do it,\" Anando said. \"I could say the same words you do, with the same conviction, and yet you somehow win people over. I just bore them.\"\n\nNehalé laughed and patted him on the shoulder. \"You don't bore them, my friend, you're just not speaking from the heart.\" He prodded at Anando's chest with his fingers. \"Your heart, Anando. Not mine, nor theirs. It's not about conviction...it's about belief.\"\n\nAnando nodded and gave him a sheepish smile. \"I know...it's just hard to explain what's going on to those who may be unwilling to fully listen. I've been talking with one of them off and on...Sonia's her name. I get the feeling she and her friend are here not so much to witness or be a part of the One's return, but to find an opportunity.\"\n\nNehalé cocked his head at him. \"How so?\"\n\nAnando hedged. \"I'm not sure.\"\n\n\"Even if they were, what could they do?\" he said. \"If that's their plan, then they're merely reacting. Doing the same predictable thing they always do, and it's something we count on. Not depend on, mind you, but we can certainly use it to our advantage.\"\n\nAnando frowned at him. \"Yes, but what if this is different?\" he asked. \"I'm not expecting the Shenaihu to take this gathering lightly. Sure, I've been hearing the same rumors you have, but that's not what's bothering me.\"\n\nNehalé nodded slowly, and directed him into the one of the back offices to continue the conversation privately. \"Of course the Shenaihu know what we're up to,\" he said. \"But right now, they're too busy falling over themselves, trying to fix all the minor problems, and in the process they're avoiding the larger one — we Mendaihu. They're too focused on their own side, grabbing the One of All Sacred and not paying attention to what would happen if they succeed.\"\n\n\"You seem so sure that it won't escalate,\" Anando said. \"I may not be a truthseer, Nehalé, but I just don't expect them to stay quiet. Please tell me you at least have backup plans.\"\n\nAs much as he wanted to reassure this young man that the probability of a fight was negligible, he could not do it. He knew there were Shenaihu planted here in the warehouse already, but they were the least of his worries now. When the girl arrived, when the One of All Sacred stepped through those doors in an hour or so, his role in this game would be over. Anything else that happened would be the One of All Sacred's doing.\n\nNehalé sighed. \"I can't promise anything.\"\n\nAnando glared at him. \"You started this, Nehalé. Don't back out of it now.\"\n\nThose close-hitting words left him wincing, but before he could answer, Anando had turned and left. He thought to call him back but chose against it; the kid had a point. He alone knew exactly what he had to do to finish what he'd started, and he had purposely not given anyone the full details. Any non-action on his part would have looked like inaction to anyone else, and in effect any explanation after the fact would have sounded like an excuse. He forgave Anando his moment of frustration...the kid understood quite well what was going on and what he had to do on his own. His words were borne of impatience and fear. The awakening had affected him significantly more than he'd expected, and he was still flailing without a spiritual anchor. He willingly accepted his current role, but it would take time for him to adjust.\n\nHe poked his head out one of the side entrances to check on the oncoming rainstorm. It was yet to start raining but the darkening gray clouds were now directly above the Sprawl, and the temperature had fallen significantly. He thought of the Rain of Light he had witnessed days ago, on the roof of his apartment in Branden Hill. That delicate ballet of spirit energies dancing peacefully over the city, skimming the Mirades Tower, showering down on the Sprawl...the cycle had been healthy, growing stronger and brighter. His original plan had been to let this Rain cycle and recycle itself until it grew and became self-sufficient enough to become a life channel for the recently awakened. The hrrah-sehdhyn had affected the cycle somehow, perverted it, enough to affect the physical plane. This was where he was at a loss...he couldn't quite grasp why it had happened, and how he could stop it at this time. An overwhelming sense of sadness and failure had washed over him, realizing the loss of innocence he had witnessed from that rooftop, and how he had not thought twice about it, too wrapped up in preparation for this so-called 'spiritual war.' Not even the knowledge that he would in just a few hours see the One of All Sacred, the savior he had worked for so long to bring into this world, could lift his melancholia. The cold breeze picked up; suddenly shivering, he drew the collar of his jacket closer and pulled himself back into the building, and secured the door.\n\nSomfei, edha Usarai.\n\nNehalé spun around, looking for the source of the unfamiliar voice.\n\n_Do not be so hard on yourself, edha,_ the woman said. _You are closer to the truth than you think you are, you just need to clear your vision before you can truly see it._\n\nHe scanned the crowd before him. There were at least thirty people close by, and nearly all were distracted by their own conversations both within and aloud. Eventually his eyes landed on a slender Meraladian woman, standing twenty feet away and separated from the crowd. She was leaning up against a wall with her arms crossed and looking elsewhere, but he recognized her immediately.\n\n_Somfei, emha Udéma_ , he said, surprised and more than a little confused. What was one of Governor Rieflin's round table members doing here?\n\nA smile crossed Mancka Udéma's face and pushed herself off the wall, and made her way towards him. She had a look of determination and conviction in her eyes, which made Nehalé nervous. She might have been here to witness the return of the One, but she had more than just that on her mind.\n\n\"I admit I'm surprised to see you here, Councilor Udéma,\" he said, bowing slightly in her direction. She had a classic Mannaki build, somewhat taller and larger than a normal human but a much lighter skin tone than a Meraladian, and she was well toned in muscle. For some reason he'd always imagined her as timid, if only because she was the quietest member of the Governor's Council, rarely speaking during the Council's public outings unless prompted. The conviction she exuded made sense to him, now that he could sense her spirit so clearly before him...she was a true Mendaihu Watcher, listening and processing and only speaking when necessary.\n\n\"I assure you, I am here of my own will,\" she said, and flashed another smile at him. \"I caught your speech earlier...\"\n\n\"Oh?\" He offered his arm and walked with her back towards the mezzanine. \"I admit, it was a bit unrehearsed...\"\n\n\"Sometimes the intent comes through clearer that way, edha,\" she said.\n\n\"Please, call me Nehalé.\" He let her go first up the stairs up to the platform he'd stood on a few hours earlier, and followed behind. \"I must agree at any rate. Had I come with a prewritten soliloquy, I'm sure half the crowd would have booed me off the stage.\"\n\nMancka's laugh filled the air. It was a distinctively Mannaki laugh, a quick fit of high-pitched giggling and ending with a satisfied sigh, a trait he'd heard from no one except direct descendants of that outpost planet. It was a trivial and unlikely trait that had no basis in fact except for in his own experience, but it had done its job; he had instantly felt relaxed and safe in her presence. He played along, his mind already in motion. Her ancestors must have been part of the first landing party on Earth, which said quite a bit; there was a good chance she knew the history behind the One of All Sacred on this planet. As they entered one of the rear offices on the mezzanine, he asked her point blank about all this.\n\n\"Why yes,\" she smiled. \"One of my matriarchs was a child at the time of the flight. She eventually became part of the new provincial government, holding the same title I have now, for close to fifteen years.\"\n\n\"You must be proud,\" he said, profoundly impressed.\n\n\"Yes, I am. It's an honor to be doing the same thing she did. Now, Nehalé...I must ask you a few questions, before anything else happens here. I ask both as a Mendaihu, and as a Provincial Representative. But I am not here to judge, edha. I am a Mendaihu first and foremost...I observe. I do not judge, lest I be judged.\"\n\nNehalé appreciated her words, and had expected them. \"Ask away.\"\n\nShe nodded, and took a seat on the edge of lone desk in the room. She focused her eyes on the floor, taking her time to organize her thoughts before she spoke again. \"Nehalé...I must ask this. Why are you summoning the One of All Sacred?\"\n\nNehalé blinked, surprised by the simplicity of the question. \"It was prophecy, Mancka. It was foretold by Kindeiya Shalei.\"\n\nHe did not like her reaction to the name, but continued to tell her of his constant discussions both at the Mirades Tower and here in the Waterfront Sector. Kindeiya Shalei was very blunt with his words, one who would foretell events as he saw them, without fanfare or flourish. Because of this, he was not a very popular as a reality seer. His discussions on the One of All Sacred bordered on fanatical, as if he'd been waiting impatiently for the deity much longer than he wanted to admit.\n\n\"Denysia has already awakened as the Ninth Embodiment then,\" she said.\n\n\"Yes. I'm unsure of her whereabouts, but Kindeiya says she will be here shortly.\"\n\nShe seemed appeased by that answer and continued. \"I must also ask, edha...what really happened at St. Patrick's?\"\n\nHe consciously rubbed the fresh scar above his eye, and looked away. So many lives, so many spirits forcibly pulled away... \"Is this for a report, or off the record?\"\n\n\"Nehalé?\" she started.\n\nHe glanced at her, then away again. \"I'm okay, Mancka. They're just memories I'd rather not have to relive so soon.\" He summoned up his courage, looked her in the eyes, and told his story. He left nothing out, as he had no reason to keep anything from a Watcher of her stature. He trusted that she would understand. Once he'd finished, he remained quiet for a long time afterwards, and she did not prod him. \"The truth is, I'm not entirely sure what happened,\" he said eventually. \"Or why. If the Shenaihu want the One of All Sacred so badly...taking her by force has to be one of the most miscalculated ideas I've ever seen. Perhaps with your background you can explain that to me.\"\n\nShe reached out a hand and touched him on the shoulder. \"I promise I will. But I must ask one more question.\"\n\nNehalé nodded again, more exhausted than ever. His fatigue added to the sadness he'd felt earlier, the antithesis of what he should be feeling, the elation and love and energy that saturated the air below them. Instead, he felt dejected and completely alone.\n\n\"Nehalé...\" she paused. Her sudden silence disturbed him, and he was forced to face her again. Compassion filled her eyes, as if realizing he had never known all the facts in this convoluted game of spirits, and chose to take pity on him. He frowned, not exactly sure what to expect.\n\n\"Nehalé,\" she started again. \"For this last question, we must go elsewhere.\"\n\nHe completely understood, and closed his eyes...\n\n*\n\n...and opened them again a second later, to find himself in a wide field in the middle of a forest, lined with grass as high as his hips, and a breathtakingly blue sky above. There were small, square clearings in this field, each connected by a long, curving path that led away into the forest. Each clearing had a discoloration where the deep green grass had turned a wheaty brown and formed unique shapes and symbols. He recognized these symbols as the emblems of the Clans of Trisanda...a few yards to his left, he saw the triple arc of the Lehanna clan, and a little farther on he saw the twin diamonds of Mancka's clan of Udéma. He and Mancka stood in the center of two intersecting circles, used for many things: the Shalei clan, the sigil of the Mendaihu, and the Trisandi symbol for duality.\n\n_Trisanda,_ he thought. This was not Earth that he stood on now, he could tell just by sensing. This was an altogether different place. The dread he had felt upon entering the Light had vanished as soon as he had taken his first breath of naturally clean air.\n\n\"We are where we need to be,\" Mancka said to his right.\n\n\"I thought so,\" he answered, smiling. He had not been that surprised that they would end up here; in fact he was quite pleased. He'd only been up here in dreams, visiting his lumisha dea, but never physically. He had never mastered Lightwalking long distances. \"The spirit winds feel very clean here,\" he said.\n\nShe laughed. \"One way to see it, Nehalé. I brought you here because I need your True Self to answer this last question. Come...there's someone I'd like you to meet.\" She took his hand and led him to the eastern edge of the field.\n\nThe sun shone behind them at a lazy angle, suggesting it was late afternoon. She wordlessly pointed out various things as she saw them...the clear blue sky above them, a gundaevi that had stopped at the edge of the field to watch them, and a bird that resembled a crow as it soared above the tree line. Nehalé drank all of this scenery in and felt the most contented he'd ever been in his life.\n\n_Hra khera, hra mehra...at peace,_ he thought to himself. _This is the true homeworld, for it is at peace._\n\nWhen they came to the edge of the field, the grass sloped down slightly and gave way to the forest in front of them. The footpaths had all converged at a clearing in the woods and joined a dirt road that wound deeper into the forest, though any signs of transportation other than by foot had long since vanished. This path curved as often as it lifted and dipped on the wild terrain, and soon he wasn't sure which direction he was headed.\n\n\"Where exactly are we going?\" he asked, but Mancka said nothing, keeping it a surprise. Nehalé didn't mind. If it meant staying longer on this wondrous planet, he had no problems with that.\n\nAfter a few more turns, Mancka abruptly stopped and left the road. This second path, which had made itself visible after a few yards, rode a gentle curve and dropped down slightly as it went on before emerging on another clearing a good few hundred yards away. It was here that Nehalé suddenly picked up the scent of burning wood and cooked meat, and he suddenly realized he hadn't eaten in hours. The thought of carnivorous people on Trisanda confused him for a moment, as it went against a longstanding myth, but only until the aroma grew stronger. The burning, cooking meat of a beast grew stronger with each step he took. His stomach began to rumble.\n\n\"She is here,\" Mancka said as they walked into another and much smaller field, this one filled with shorter, darker grass, as if it had been someone's back yard. At the other end of this field he saw a giant bonfire, the trails of grayish white smoke lifting up into the sky. Near the bonfire was a long table, with perhaps twenty or so people sitting around it. Above the sound of crackling fire, Nehalé could just barely make out voices talking, their voices just above whispering. Mancka moved faster now, eager to see whomever it was they were meeting. Perhaps she had visited Trisanda countless times already and knew this woman well?\n\n\"... _dehndarra Né hra nyhndah,_ \" she said, when they came close enough to be heard and noticed by those at the table. They all turned nearly in unison, most of them in midbite, and nodded or waved their hellos. A tall, thinly bearded man with light hair stood and dropped his satchel on the table next to his plate, and made his way to them.\n\n\"Welcome to the Great Table,\" he said in Terran English but with a very heavy Mannaki accent. \"I trust your travels were without incident? My name is Dolan Usara. Please, make yourselves comfortable.\" He gestured towards two spots on the long bench near the end of the Great Table. Nehalé sat down across from Mancka, relishing the chance to rest his aching feet, and Dolan left to retrieve their host.\n\n\"Usara...\" Nehalé said. \"I sense he is a cousin of mine.\"\n\nMancka nodded. \"And I'm sure he senses the same thing. No need for introductions here, Nehalé. If they don't know you by name, they certainly know you by spirit now.\"\n\n\"They rely on spiritsensing that much here?\" he said, more as an observation than a question.\n\n\"A taste of what used to be,\" she said wistfully. \"And what may come.\"\n\nHe considered that a playfully underhanded comment and chose not to reply back.\n\nMinutes later, after someone had graciously handed them goblets filled with a sweet-tasting concoction for them to drink, Dolan returned with a young woman in tow, a thin and frail-looking woman whose face was hidden from them by the hood of her robe. Long, full and fiery red hair streamed out from its corners, coming down past her breasts. She held a half-filled glass of the same sweet wine between thin, delicate fingers. Mancka quickly stood up to greet her.\n\n\"No, Mancka my dearest...\" the woman said, her voice soft and kind. She held up a hand to motion her back down. \"Don't get up on my behalf. I shall join you.\" She took a seat between them at the very end of the table. It was then that she pulled the rolls of the robe's hood back to rest on her shoulders. Nehalé caught his breath and stared at the young and startlingly beautiful woman smiling back at him. Sparkling hazel eyes looked down upon him with compassion and peacefulness. \"Greetings, Nehalé,\" she said, and rested a gentle hand on his. \"It is wonderful to meet you. I've heard many great things.\"\n\n\"You have?\" He blushed, awestruck by her beauty, warmed by her touch, and embarrassed by his complete lack of nerve.\n\n\"I am emha-sehndayen-ne Eprysia, Nehalé. I hear _everything_ ,\" she said. \"I am Ampryss, the Listener of Souls. I listen to all the spirits that originate from Trisanda, so you can well imagine that there are more voices in my head than one could ever wish for.\" She smiled at her own self-effacing joke, and took a sip from her glass. \"I am not a Judge, Nehalé, but merely a soulhealer and, to some extent, a guardian.\"\n\nNehalé brightened. \"Ah! Ampryss! I have heard your name spoken in many Mendaihu circles.\" He covered her hand with his in a sudden wave of renewed bravado. \"It is a pleasure to finally meet you!\"\n\nAmpryss nodded in acceptance and flashed a wide smile at him. \"You are here, my eicho, because you have put certain things in motion on Gharra that were a long time coming...things that should have taken place much earlier, but that is neither here nor there. I have been talking with the young woman who has recently Awakened. The dear child is The One of All Sacred in its ninth embodiment, as you are well aware.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he managed. \"I have felt her presence.\"\n\n\"I will speak her True Name, Nehalé, for I now know she is truly the One of All Sacred in her Ninth Embodiment. Her name is Denysia Shalei si Emmadha si Dhumélis, and she is a direct descendant of the Imperial tribe of Shalei. There has not been an Imperial since the second Mannaki embodiment, Andra Mayden, at least eight hundred Gharné years earlier. She is also the first truly Gharné embodiment.\"\n\n\"So I understand,\" he said.\n\n\"Therefore, it is _imperative_ that you guard her with all that you are, Nehalé. There are forces out there who wish her dead.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know.\"\n\nAmpryss' hand tightened around his. \"I'm afraid you don't, my friend. At least, you don't understand _fully_. It is more than just the beliefs of two ancient tribes from Trisanda. It is more than just the Mendaihu versus the Shenaihu.\"\n\nNehalé bowed his head. \"I know that as well, Ampryss. That is why I performed the Awakening when and how I did. There are forces... _spiritual_ forces on both sides that want Denysia, dead or alive, for their own reasons. I am yet to learn what their motives are, however.\" Lifting his eyes to her, he was surprised to find her wincing and shaking her head at him.\n\n\"Nehalé, my little eicho...\" she said sadly. \"My dear, it is far, far more than that. What you have done...this 'awakening,' as you call it...has released more than you are willing to admit, even to yourself. These spiritual forces you speak of are inside all of us, you see...every Trisandi, every Meraladhza, every Mannaki...and by consequence, every Gharné. In awakening the One, you have, in essence, awakened most of Gharra in the process, and it is continuing. Do you realize the extent of what you've done?\"\n\nIn truth, he hadn't. How could he have known? How could anyone? He was only fulfilling the prophecy of Kindeiya Shalei and that of the One of All Sacred. He needed no higher answer. He had only imagined the consequences of his actions up to the point that the awakening would have affected the immediate Bridgetown Province, perhaps further out, perhaps to NewCanta and other sprawls, but no further than that. He had vastly underestimated the situation, perhaps dangerously, and that had been the source of his current sadness. The Embodiment of the One was so much more than just the beliefs of two ancient tribes.\n\n\"I'm beginning to understand,\" he answered. \"But perhaps there is a way I can ensure we do not descend into chaos?\"\n\nAmpryss smiled proudly at him. \"Of course there is. You must find the source of this opposing force, and join with it.\"\n\nNehalé was not expecting that. \" _Join_ with Natianos Lehanna? We'd end up killing each other first!\" He had not meant to say that aloud, but he was too shocked to hold it back. Never had the Shenaihu and the Mendaihu ever come to lasting, peaceful terms with each other. But he had to remind himself: _they're the same as us, Nehalé...we're both the same_. He needed to believe that before he could even start to logically find a solution to this problem. How was he to meet Natianos Lehanna and explain what happened and how they both could come to terms with it? He was sure that he wouldn't even get past his underling, Janoss Miradesi, without more bloodshed...\n\n\"I understand your unwillingness to mend what you have torn apart,\" Ampryss said, cutting into his thoughts. \"But you must have faith, dear Nehalé. I have seen this faith in you before, as you defended a house of worship. Your strength lies in that faith.\"\n\nFinally, Nehalé lowered his head again in acceptance. Ampryss still held his hand, though not as tight as before, and now stroked it lightly in an attempt to soothe his defeat.\n\n\"He will not accept your reasoning at first,\" she continued. \"And your path will most likely be blocked by others who will not agree to your terms. Do not think ill of them, but do not dismiss them as harmless, either.\" She paused, cupping a hand under his chin and lifting it to hers. She looked deep within his eyes and witnessed his fear...the uncertainty of what lay ahead, and silently prayed for him. \"There will also be forces that you do not understand, forces that could be the death of you and those around you, Nehalé. You _must_ remember that, above all else. I suggest you at least keep your senses aware.\"\n\nWith that, she stood; Mancka and Nehalé joined her as she began walking towards the other end of the table. Halfway down, she turned and took Nehalé's hands. \"I grant you Peace, Love and Light, Nehalé. You have strength beyond your own imagination; I know you can do all that I ask.\"\n\nOn impulse, Nehalé grasped her hands and kissed them. \"I shall do all you ask, dearest Ampryss. Thank you for the illumination. Peace, Love and Light to you as well.\"\n\n*\n\nThe sun began to set when Nehalé and Mancka reached the edge of the larger field where they had arrived earlier. The sky had begun to glow in the many shades of dusk, from the rich oranges and reds of the clouded horizon to the deep navy blue of twilight, the first of thousands of stars making their presence known. Nehalé gazed up at them, wondering where in this universe the great and wondrous Gharra spun silently and serenely, despite the tensions on its surface.\n\nAnswering his unspoken question, Mancka looked up herself, squinted in deep thought as her eyes skimmed over starpoints, and eventually landed on a milky-white smudge in the south-eastern sky, halfway towards the horizon. \"Gharra System,\" she said, her voice no more than a murmur. \"Hiding somewhere in the Milky Way...right about... _there_.\"\n\nHe looked up and stared at that smudge for a good few minutes. There, in that corner of the sky, was his physical home, where his family and friends were. Where all the souls he'd known resided. He felt...not exactly humbled, but a little less alone now.\n\nShe smiled at him and tugged at his sleeve. \"Come, Nehalé. We must get back to the warehouse.\"\n\nNehalé nodded and followed her to the Trisandi duality symbol in the center of the field. He found the sigil more symbolic than serendipitous as he stepped into it, closed his eyes with a satisfied grin, as all became Light.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-THREE\n\n_Gharné_\n\nGovernor Rieflin stood at Nandahya Mirades' office window on the one hundred tenth floor and watched the storm clouds roll in. The wide expanse of North Main Street shot straight from the Tower towards Breed's Hill and the Crest. The majority of Bridgetown's historic buildings followed this thoroughfare, from the CNF Building and the Provincial Government House a few blocks down, to the Scientific History Museum and the Data Research Library near Pendergast Boulevard six miles away. \"Quite a vantage point you have here,\" he said. \"How did you manage to get the north side?\"\n\nNandahya knew a pointed question when she heard one, and continued shuffling the paperwork on her desk. \"I was assigned the space, Anton, just like you were,\" she said, and gave him a weak grin. \"Affairs of Meraladian Society always had a northward office, just as the First Landing plaque faces north.\"\n\n\"Why is that?\" he asked, turning from the window. \"Just curious.\"\n\n\"Meraladian trajectory, I suppose,\" she shrugged. \"We came in from the north when we landed here.\"\n\nAnton took her brush-off as a sign to change the subject. \"I see you've also got a view of the Waterfront.\"\n\nNandahya lifted her head. \"What does that have to —\"\n\n\"Settle down,\" he laughed. \"Just an observation.\"\n\n\"Governor, sir,\" she said, glaring at him. \"Is there a reason you came in to bother me?\"\n\n\"Yes, emha, there is,\" he said, and promptly took a seat across from her desk. \"In all seriousness, I'm concerned about what's happening down in that sector.\"\n\n\"Have you called Reverend Mackenzie of Saint Paul's Church? That's his community, he'd know best.\"\n\nAnton nodded. \"He's been out. Left his office for the warehouse district, just like everyone else.\"\n\nNandahya bristled, pushing herself way from her desk. \"That's not like Joe to abandon his post,\" she said. \"At least not without reason. Have you gotten any reports?\"\n\nAnton gave her a shrug and glanced over at the windows briefly before he spoke. \"Agents are saying it's a sort of a street fair right now. They've taken over the old Moulding Warehouse on the corner of Holgate and McCleever. It's been peaceful, really. They've all been behaving themselves. I'll be honest, though...I keep expecting something to happen.\" He dropped his head and laughed quietly to himself. \"Guess who owns the warehouse?\"\n\nShe raised an eyebrow at him. \"Nehalé Usarai.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"No big surprise.\"\n\n\"So what does this have to do with me?\" she asked. \"I don't mean to sound like I'm avoiding you, Anton, because I'm not. But I can tell when that brain of yours is up to something.\"\n\n\"Some of our Mendaihu adepts say close to ninety percent of the warehouse crowd is either Mendaihu or Shenaihu, and it's a pretty even balance,\" he said. \"Or at least have Mendaihu and Shenaihu abilities but have not fully awakened. Now, I still stand by what I said: this is a peaceful gathering, so I won't have anyone move in. But you've got to admit, when a gathering expands from a few dozen to nearly five thousand in under twenty-four hours, there is cause for concern.\"\n\nNandahya frowned at him. \"You're expecting violence, sir?\"\n\n\"I expect anything,\" he said soberly. \"And Mancka Udéma is missing. I have no idea where she is, and she's the only person who could really help right now.\"\n\n\"What? Mancka is gone? She's not downstairs? I just saw her an hour ago!\" Her complexion had withered somewhat, and she started to fidget. \"She wouldn't...\" she said, her voice barely a whisper. She glanced out her window herself. \"She wouldn't go down there...not alone.\"\n\n\"She left no message,\" he said, glancing out the window himself. \"I think she was summoned there, for lack of a better term.\"\n\nShe grimaced at him. \"Mancka? No, she wouldn't do something this reckless.\"\n\n\"She must have gone down there, Nandahya, there's no doubt. Maybe edha Usarai summoned her, maybe she went of her own volition, maybe the spirit called her. It doesn't matter. But when it's a member of my council, and at this point in time...\"\n\n\"Let's assume she is down there,\" she said warily. \"She'd have a good reason for it, sir. I can only hope that she'll report soon enough.\"\n\n*\n\nFather?\n\nThe voice of his youngest daughter filtered through the din of the Tower's energy flow and hit Natianos unexpectedly from behind. He had been continuing his talk with Janoss and stopped midsentence, more surprised than inconvenienced by the interruption. Saone had interrupted him before like this, more often than not during important meetings and with trivial matters...but the urgency of her voice suggested otherwise. He finished with Janoss and sent him on his way, and retreated to his own office ten flights up.\n\nSaone had taken it upon herself to prove her worth, if not to him then to her own conscience, by infiltrating the Moulding Warehouse with her own team. He worried about her. She always meant well, but she was woefully ignorant in situations such as this. She had never been the devout Shenaihu nuhm'ndah to the level her three older sisters were, stealthily integrating themselves into commerce and society. No, Saone had chosen to go it alone. She had to find her own way...and she had chosen anarchic resistance. She and Kryssyna — that Piramados tomboy, nothing but a bad influence on her — integrated themselves into the nearly dead underground movement of the McCleever-Waterfront corridor, and had gotten themselves mixed up with the Mendaihu. She knew a lot of citizens down there...but no politicians, no engineers, no intellectuals, where it counted.\n\nStill, he played along to let her hopes up. It was the least he could do.\n\n_Father,_ she called again, her voice filling with anticipation and anxiety. He entered his office just as she called a third time, and was able to answer this time without interruption.\n\n_Saone, my dearest child,_ he answered. _You sound distressed._\n\n_I'm fine,_ she said breathlessly. _I've found a way in. I already have people in place._\n\nNatianos shivered. He honestly had not expected her to fulfill this impossible mission, to capture the One of All Sacred. She might have been able to watch her, but capture? He already had spies at the warehouse, had sent them quite early in fact, and had fully expected this team to do most of the legwork. The most Saone would be able to do is distract. He hoped she would know enough to back away in time. He wanted this event to be as peaceful as possible. There was no telling what The One of All Sacred would do to them if it turned violent.\n\n_Stay where you are,_ he warned her.\n\nYou don't trust me?\n\nSince when did trust enter into this? _Of course I trust you, Saone. You know that. But please, there are—_\n\nLet me do this, Dahné.\n\nHer words had set him on edge so easily; if she had planned on attacking the Mendaihu at the source, the only outcome would be death. The death of nuhm'ndah spies, fighting what would essentially be a pointless battle. The death of Mendaihu volunteers under the mistaken idea that martyred victory was theirs. The death of his youngest child. And very possibly, the death of the One.\n\n_Saone,_ he called out, pleading to her. _You've_ _got_ _to understand that this gathering does not concern you. This is a matter to be dealt with between the Shenaihu, the Mendaihu and the One of All Sacred. It is_ _not_ _revenge._\n\nSaone did not answer right away. He made use of the quick silence to switch on the vidmat to scan for footage of the Waterfront. If anything happened down there this evening, he would want to see it. Especially now that Saone was lurking somewhere down there. He was able to log onto the same feed the Branden Hill ARU had linked into, four corner traffic cameras now focused solely on the warehouse.\n\nHer voice entered again. _But it does concern me, Dahné. More than you know._\n\nShe had taken pains to calm herself and understand his trepidation of her being there, and Natianos applauded her for it. But would she understand why this violent history was destined to repeat itself if these things kept happening? Nehalé Usarai had been terribly lucky in his first attempt to call the One of All Sacred to him at the church...and it was only by chance that Janoss and his team had inadvertently stopped him just before it was too late.\n\n\"Saone...\" he said aloud, knowing she wouldn't hear. \"Be careful, my child.\"\n\n_It is done,_ he said finally. That must have sated her, as she spoke no more, even when he called out to her. He admitted it wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for, but it would have to do for now.\n\n*\n\n\"I really shouldn't be here,\" Nick said, perfectly deadpan. \"It's a wonderful crowd and the eats are great, but I don't have a single iota of Mendaihu or Shenaihu blood in me, I tell you. Some ancestor five hundred years ago on my mother's uncle's side was from Mannaka, but that's about it!\"\n\nSheila giggled and backslapped him on the arm as they walked down the closed street, past the many booths and tents that lined the sidewalk. Her mind and spirit buzzed with frenetic energy, and she didn't care this time if it spilled out. When there were this many Mendaihu surrounding her, she couldn't help but drink in the Light. \"It's our day off,\" she said with a wide smile and took his arm. \"I'm having fun for the first time in months. Besides, I'm considering this grunt work just in case something does happen.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm quite sure something will happen,\" he said. Sheila started to respond, but stopped when she saw Nick's distant look as he scanned the crowd. His take on things was always opposite of hers, which was why they were perfect partners. She had come to understand his cold, clinical way of analyzing situations, all the while knowing that it was just part of his job, a part he kept distant from his private life. So when she had noticed his emotionless and wary glances, she had to take notice. She let go of his arm and faced him.\n\n\"Talk, kid,\" she said under her breath.\n\nHe exhaled. \"They're getting ready for something. This isn't just a street carnival or a celebration. You know, like Landing Day. You don't notice it, do you?\"\n\n\"No, not really...\" she frowned.\n\n\"Thought not. No offense,\" he added with a patient half smile. \"I'm just guessing that the sheer number of sensitives here is a bit numbing. It's obscuring your sense of why you're here in the first place. Just the fact that all these Mendaihu are here and letting their energies run rampant is causing many of them to lose their sharper focus.\"\n\n\"Getting caught up in the moment, you mean?\"\n\n\" _Exactly_ what I'm talking about,\" he pointed at her. \"And that's what's worrying me. I can't help but feel that something isn't going to go as planned tonight.\"\n\nHis words made her shiver. \"You mean the One of All Sacred? If all that buzz about the Ninth Coming is true...Nick! Think of how exciting that is! Think of what she can do to end this imbalance once and for all!\"\n\nNick pursed his lips and looked away. As much as he wanted to argue that point in particular, he kept his words to himself. Instead he turned and began walking away, towards the far corner of the warehouse. Sheila watched him for a moment, dumbfounded by his actions, then caught up with him.\n\n\"What aren't you telling me, Nick?\" she said flatly, latching on to his arm again.\n\nBack in character, Nick flashed smiles everywhere around the crowd. \"From what I've heard, Nehalé is expecting some opposition tonight when the One arrives. Probably the Shenaihu, maybe the nuhm'ndah, though he didn't exactly say who or when.\"\n\nSheila tried not to think of the images she saw yesterday at the church. She motioned for him to stop at a shaded booth selling flavored ice drinks. She bought for the both of them, and led him to a fleet of folding tables littering the street. They found a less crowded corner with an empty table and sat down.\n\n\"What do you want to do about it?\" she said after a long silence.\n\n\"I'd sit tight,\" he said. \"No doubt the rest of our team will be here before long. Besides...I think our sightsensing is working just fine, don't you think?\" He winked at her as he took another sip from his drink.\n\nShe smiled at his pathetic and obviously self-deprecating joke. \"I'd have to disagree,\" she said. \"I don't think sitting this one out is a good idea. We're team two but it's our duty to work as if we were team one. We've got to talk to Nehalé.\"\n\nNick let out a snort. \"And say what, exactly? What good will talking do? Look around us. Five thousand against two? Oh yeah, I'm fine with those odds.\"\n\n\"You think...?\" She stared at him, angered by his remark. \"You can't be serious! You really think that all these people would be against you if we just up and took him in for questioning right now? Don't be stupid.\"\n\nHe pursed his lips and shook his head. \"We wouldn't be able to do it anyway, not the way things are now,\" he said quietly. \"Not to mention the, shall we say, _selective_ listening going on.\"\n\nAnnoyed as she was, he had a point and she wasn't about to contest it. She may be Mendaihu-sensitive to a certain degree, but she wasn't an adept. There was no way to be sure they could question Nehalé without soulsensers listening in. A wave of paranoia swept over her at the possibility of being overheard at that very moment, but he shrugged that off just as fast and forced herself to forget about it.\n\nNick worked his jaw and stared at the table. \"What if he willingly goes through interrogation?\" His eyes brightened as the germ of a plan imbedded itself in his mind. \"That could be an advantage for us.\"\n\n\"Advantage? How?\"\n\nNick did not answer, but only smiled.\n\n\"You're an insane man,\" she said flatly. \"I hope you know that.\"\n\nA third voice entered the conversation behind them. \"Oh, that he is.\"\n\nSheila perked up and turned to see a woman behind her, about to sip from a large flask of water she'd pulled out of the satchel draped over her shoulder. She was tall with a long tangle of curly blond hair tied back, and offered her a wide, inviting smile. Sheila did a double take, amazed by the presence of this enigmatic woman she'd last seen nearly six months ago. Christine Gorecki was the last person she'd expected to see.\n\nChristine ran a private investigation firm in the lower half of the Waterfront District, just a few blocks from this warehouse. A former ARU agent, she went freelance some six months ago after a case she'd taken on had become extremely personal. Sheila did not know what had happened exactly, and had never brought up the subject. Christine had maintained minimal contact, mostly with Poe, but she'd been scarce the last few weeks.\n\n\"Christine!\" Sheila exclaimed as she sprang up to give her a hug. \"Have a seat! Pashyo, I haven't seen you in ages!\"\n\n\"I'm only stopping by, but thanks,\" she said, genuinely happy to see the two of them. She reached over and gave Nick a hug as well. \"I've been keeping busy the last few days. Getting the vibe, doing a bit of recon since it's so close to home.\"\n\nSheila nodded. \"Got it. You working on anything new? Last I knew, Poe said you were taking some downtime between cases.\"\n\nChristine shook her head in amusement. \"Downtime is not an adequate description, but to answer your question...I've been doing a few things here and there...soulreadings, a bit of reiki, what have you...nothing impressive.\"\n\n\"You still down on Haden Street?\" Nick asked. \"Near Bosko's Music?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Still in the same apartment. You guys should stop by once this all blows over, have a party or something. It's been too long.\"\n\n\"That it has,\" he said.\n\n\"Right,\" she said, and hitched the strap of her satchel higher on her shoulder. \"I really hate to take off so quick, but I prefer to keep moving in situations like this. So hey — do me a favor? If you run across Alec or Caren, have them call me as soon as they can? Nothing too important, just thought I'd offer help if they needed it.\"\n\nSheila smiled at her. \"Of course. Goddess, it's good to see you, Chris, you're looking great. We all miss you down at HQ!\"\n\nChristine barked out a laugh. \"Like hell they do!\" She waved at them and began to turn away. \"Take care, you two.\"\n\nSheila watched her disappear into the crowd before turning back to face Nick. She greatly respected Christine, even if they hadn't become close friends or even close coworkers. The woman was extremely intelligent, strong, and soft-spoken, and one hell of an impressive former ARU agent. She lived under her own rules, however, shunning authority wherever possible. Sheila remembered a particularly sticky incident between Christine and the Assistant Director that had nearly gotten her fired because of her refusal to go along.\n\n\"Think she's doing her own research?\" Nick asked. \"Certainly seems that way, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"Of course she is,\" Sheila smiled. \"We'll be hearing from her soon enough.\"\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR\n\n_Approach_\n\nPoe left the car idling as he got out and climbed onto its hood so he could get a better view of the street ahead of him. Traffic had been rerouted off Holgate Street as far back as Chapel Avenue, a good ten blocks away from Moulding Warehouse, and had ultimately caused the bottleneck of a six-lane boulevard emptying onto a four-lane side street. He was at least a good mile before Chapel, closer to Sculler's Crossing than the warehouse itself. If he was somehow able to cross two lanes and take the next left, he might be able to park at the market garage there, though he was unsure if the others would want to make the nearly two-mile hike.\n\n\"It's up to you,\" he offered, once back in the car and relaying his idea. \"If we're stuck here any longer, I can't promise if we'll get there by four.\"\n\nCaren sighed noncommittally, not caring either way. \" _Denni_ will be there, Poe. That's inevitable. I just want to be there with her.\"\n\n\"We all do,\" he said with an even voice, choosing not to argue a moot point. He pulled out of the line of traffic and cut down the side street. With each stolen glance at her from his rearview mirror, he could tell that this was definitely not the path of fate she'd expected. She had finally accepted the reality of her situation, that her little sister was someone so important and special to so many people, she felt powerless in her attempts to keep her protected. Her gaze out the window was disconnected from the real world, as if she was trying to take in the last few calm moments of her life before the chaos took over. A few times she caught his reflection in the mirror, offering a weak smile or a roll of the eyes. No words were offered.\n\nPoe could read Denni's mind as if it were his own. Although she had quietly preoccupied herself by watching the pedestrian traffic, inside her thoughts were racing, competing with each other for attention. While he could not read them, the tension they bore was intense. She was questioning her actions as the One of All Sacred...she believed in them, trusted them, used them to the best of her abilities, but deep within she was doubting. Was she truly doing the right thing? Could she truly be a savior when she could also cause so much pain? These rampant thoughts of hers left her emotionally drained. The only thing keeping her going was being surrounded by those she loved, and those who loved her.\n\n_Dehndarra Né hra nyhndah_ , he thought. The duality and the individual, existing at the same time.\n\nFor a brief moment, the concept of dualities made perfect sense to him. After all, wasn't he a duality himself? A cho-nyhndah, both Mendaihu and Shenaihu in blood and spirit? He understood the concept and the fact that Denni's case was not just unique but wholly special in and of itself. She had become a deity among the mortals here on Gharra...yet here she was, still just a young, beautiful and ultimately confused girl.\n\nBut did she have to choose one over the other? Could she be like him, forever fighting that internal battle? Could she be both at the same time?\n\n\"Poe?\"\n\nHe shivered. \"Yeah? What is it, kiddo?\"\n\nDenni leaned forward and touched his shoulder. \"Drop me off here at the corner. I can make it the rest of the way myself.\"\n\nCaren grabbed her sister's arm. \"I'm coming with you.\"\n\nDenni let out a shaky breath. \"Caren, please, you can't, not right now. Your place is here with everyone else.\"\n\n\"I'm not leaving you, Denni! I don't care _who_ you are!\"\n\nDenni sullenly sat back in her seat and faced her. Poe bit his lip as he began to slow the car up to the curb. The two sisters glared at each other for a long moment, Caren in barely contained anger, Denni in pity. \"You don't understand, Karinna,\" she said softly. \"I cannot take you. You must find your own way there.\"\n\n\"You're damn right I don't understand!\" she cried. \"Damn it! Don't do this to me, Denni! I can't...I just...\" Further words died on her lips as tears began to form. _I can't lose you too._ Poe knew those were the words she would have said. _I can't lose my entire family._ He felt her pain as deeply as anyone else in this car would have felt it. Rising above that, slowly and deliberately, was her sense of logic. One way or another, Denni was going to be at the Moulding Warehouse at four. Wordlessly, Caren let out a long, choking breath and opened up her door. Amna squirmed in the front seat, and Kai quickly let her out. The girl was her protector now.\n\nKai climbed back in without a word or a glance in Poe's direction, but dark concern had crossed her face. Then a stray tear fell from her eye, quickly wiped away before it even passed her cheek. \"We all have to make the decision eventually,\" she said. \"One way or another.\"\n\nPoe nodded, knowing that truth all too well now.\n\nOutside the car, the two sisters were holding each other tightly, talking within, consoling and soothing each other and reaffirming their safety. Poe respected their privacy and did not listen in. _Goddess,_ he thought, shivering and fighting back tears himself. For all anyone knew, this would be the last time they'd ever be together.\n\nThat dark thought fell away as Denni's hand reached through the open window and rested on his forearm. He managed to face her, but stopped just short of looking her in the eyes...he was too afraid. \"Love, Peace and Light to you,\" she said. \"...and thank you for being there.\" She touched his arm, squeezing it. \"Please take care of my sister, okay?\"\n\nHis hand dropped on hers as he forced himself to gaze upon her. He offered a weak smile as he squeezed her fingers. It was a pathetic attempt at consolation, but at the moment he wasn't sure _what_ he was supposed to feel. \"You know I will,\" he said.\n\nShe bent down and kissed him on the cheek.\n\n_Thank you, Alec_ , she said within him. _I love you._\n\nHe laughed, despite the tears. _Love you too, kid._\n\n*\n\n\"She comes within the hour,\" Anando said.\n\nNehalé shivered unintentionally at his words. \"You're sure about this?\"\n\nAnando remained at his perch on the warehouse roof and avoided Nehalé's eyes, instead watching the storm clouds as they rolled and rumbled past the Mirades Tower. Its mass had doubled since earlier this afternoon, expanding outwards in all directions, covering first the southern districts then moving northeast, and would reach them within the next few hours. Already it had obscured the sun, casting unnaturally murky shadows over the city.\n\n\"I am very sure,\" Anando said. \"I can sense her. She's not too far from here. I felt her presence ten minutes ago. She's walking towards us. I'm surprised you haven't picked up her signature yet.\"\n\nNehalé ignored the taunt. \"I only wish I could connect with her, Anando,\" he said. \"I only wish I could _speak_ with her before she comes...\"\n\n\"She won't speak with _anyone_ , Nehalé, except those closest to her,\" he said. \"Believe me, I tried. She'll hear you, I don't doubt that, but whether or not she'll answer is something else entirely.\"\n\nNehalé cocked an eyebrow at him. \"My student is teaching me,\" he said. \"I suppose this is what happens when I leave the party for a few moments. Anything else I should know, sehndayen-ne?\"\n\n\"Well, she has a friend with her, a Protector, about her age. She's a self-trained Mendaihu. I believe she's...\" he paused. He closed his eyes and listened to the whispers of his spiritsense. \"She's part of the Ehramanis clan...which means she's loyal to her, if she's anything like her ancestors.\" Nehalé seemed relieved by this news, so he pressed further. \"Nehalé...\" he ventured. \"Do you have any idea what will happen once she arrives?\"\n\nNehalé pondered over how he would answer. He had done everything according to plan: awaken the One of All Sacred, awaken the Warriors, and gather them all together. Not once had he questioned why it had to be done. He only understood that the One of All Sacred needed to be awakened at this time...at the same time as the Rain of Light. Kindeiya Shalei's prophecy had demanded it. And yet...he did not dare to question why. He just knew it was part of the path. Faith was all he needed.\n\n\"She will lead us towards the next stage of spiritual ascendance, Anando,\" he said truthfully.\n\nAnando's face drained of color. \"Ascendance?\" he sputtered. \" _That_ is the reason for this bloodshed, Nehalé? For this chaos? Are you even remotely aware of its consequences? This is going to lead to an even bigger war, you know that.\" Enraged, he pushed away from the edge of the roof stalked away from him. \"Goddess! You might feel the pain of spirits taken by force, Nehalé, but your prophecy is making that happen. Who gave you the right to decide who gets to sacrifice themselves, anyway?\"\n\nWordlessly, Nehalé caught up with him and spun him around, grabbing him by the arm. Forcefully he pulled him back to the edge of the roof and pointed towards the clouds above the city and their slow movement towards them.\n\n\"See those clouds, Anando? They have quite a bit to do with this,\" he growled. \"Those clouds are Lightbodies, manifesting themselves. We are seeing spiritforms gathering above us. Spirits being born and reborn. They've been there for the past few days, ever since I began the awakening ritual. The Rain of Light is a spirit dance. These spirits gathered the very next day, rejoicing in the fact that the One had returned. However...\"\n\nHe paused as he saw Anando's skepticism dulling his original shock.\n\n\"I see you do not believe,\" he said. \"Or at least, do not understand yet. But you will soon. The One already understands this. She's not here just to fix the balance the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, not like the last Embodiments. She's also here to raise the stakes.\"\n\nAnando crossed his arms and turned, leaning against the ledge. \"Please explain.\"\n\nNehalé complied. \"Normally such a manifestation would be little more than thin clouds, perhaps a bit of precipitation. However...something is not quite right. Yes, just like all the previous seasons of Embodiment, there is a severe imbalance between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu that needs to be adjusted. A spiritual imbalance, both individually and as a collective. The spinning top is coming perilously close to its last revolutions before it falls.\"\n\n\"How can you tell?\" Anando asked.\n\n\"How can anyone tell? It goes far beyond good and evil, you know that. That's entirely the wrong way of looking at it. None of us are completely 'good' or 'evil' in body or in spirit...we are just not fully knowledgeable either way.\"\n\n\"That makes absolutely no sense,\" Anando growled. \"If we started this because —\"\n\nNehalé held up a hand to stop him. \"Remember this, above all else: we did not start anything,\" he said. \"We are finishing what needs to be completed.\"\n\n\"Completed? That doesn't —\" Anando stopped and stared at him, eyes wide and mouth half open, unsure of what his next words were going to be. A spark had gone off within, and it had made his spirit sing. \"Ascendance,\" he managed to say. \"Both the Shenaihu and the Mendaihu...we are both one after all. The One is here to reunite us.\"\n\nNehalé threw his hands at him. \"That's what I've been trying to tell everyone, Anando! That's the message I've been trying to give everyone downstairs. Now do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered quietly. \"I think I do.\"\n\n\"Good,\" he said, and turned towards the roof door. \"Let's go welcome her in, then.\"\n\n*\n\n_She's almost here,_ Saone thought. Her senses tingled with the excitement of the crowd anxiously awaiting their savior, and of her own Shenaihu blood, hungrily awaiting its vengeance that had never been sated. It took enough energy for her to focus just on her own plans. _It is not revenge_ , her father had told her. If the nuhm'ndah were not here for revenge, what were they here for? The two senses, the anticipation and the hatred, conflicted each other yet flowed evenly side by side, as if one were the symbiote of the other...the duality of the whole...\n\n\"Madness,\" she whispered to herself and shook the thoughts out of her head. She did not have time to dwell on such trivial things, not if she was going to capture this young girl. She would have to keep her mind and her spirit separate from everyone else if she were to succeed.\n\n_Saone,_ a voice called within.\n\n_Kryssyna, is that you?_ She answered quietly, hoping those on the floor did not hear her.\n\n_It is,_ she responded. _We're in position in the basement whenever you're ready. Just say the word._\n\nA chill washed over her as she confirmed Kryssyna's report. She leaned back against the rickety wall, daring not to question her own plans, now that they had been put in motion. Again she thought of her father's words. Again she thought of what this all meant to the Shenaihu nuhm'ndah, what she had been taught by her father as well as her older sisters, of what happened to the Shenaihu...to the Mannaka settlers...all the way back to Trisanda, when the Shenaihu had been abandoned. _Abandoned!_ The Mendaihu...the _Mendaihu_...had left. They'd broken the ties first, the connections that never should have been severed in the first place! If it was not revenge, what was it, then?\n\nShe wished Kryssyna was here, up in the mezzanine instead of somewhere in the disused subway tunnels beneath her. She needed someone by her side right now. She'd known Kryssyna since childhood, and trusted no one else as fully as her. If anyone would understand the confusion she now faced, it would be her. Kryssyna had sacrificed much of who she was for her, truly believing in their spiritual and emotional connection. Kryss was once a pure Shenaihu like herself, at one time. But in a selfless act of love, she had chosen to change that. For Saone. She needed Kryssyna to be here, next to her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and shivered.\n\nNo time like the present. _Send them in slowly,_ she said. _Let them mingle into the crowd first. I will give the signal for the next move. You will meet me near the stairs to the northern mezzanine as soon as possible._\n\nThere was a quiet pause before her response. _Understood, Saone._\n\nShe left the office as quietly as she had entered it, headed back down to the main floor, and slipped back into the mass. No one had seen her go up to the mezzanine a half hour ago, and had not wondered about her absence. There was something worrisome about the fact that anyone could have followed, some busybody sticking their noses in where it didn't belong. Were the Mendaihu that confident in their soulsensing? It was hard to avoid that cloying wave of overwhelming _positivity_ they possessed...it wasn't blissful ignorance, but it certainly felt that way.\n\nEven the Shenaihu here were caught up in the excitement, and that worried her even more. They should know better than to lose themselves in this! They should not be so quick to trust anything the Mendaihu were to offer here. She'd given them the benefit of the doubt when she'd arrived this afternoon. She even let herself get lost in the flow for a while, especially whenever she ran into that Mendaihu boy, Anando. It was just a bit of harmless flirting and playing along to make him believe she had no ulterior motives.\n\nSuch fools, she thought, shaking her head and laughing to herself. Her father was right, this wasn't revenge at all. It was a mockery. A mockery of her spirit!\n\nMoments later, Kryssyna emerged from a large group of followers who barely noticed her, slipped awkwardly through the tight pack and tripped to a stop in front of her. \"Too much happiness here,\" Kryssyna smirked. \"It's giving me a headache.\"\n\n\"Always the voice of reason, I see. They are all getting in position?\"\n\nKryssyna nodded, and began pointing at various parts of the warehouse floor. \"We have at least two nuhm'ndah in all the major gathering points in the main area. There's at least a dozen near the main rolling door. There are others in the holding bays behind us. There won't be too many down below, but I've kept at least ten at the tunnel entrance.\"\n\nSaone nodded, impressed by how fast she had gathered these extras in a short amount of time. \"They're saying the One of All Sacred should be arriving any moment now. I've heard from the outside posts that she has made her way on foot for the last mile and was last seen three blocks from here.\"\n\n\"I've confirmed that,\" Kryssyna responded. \"To come without guard, though...very unexpected.\"\n\n\"She has one Protector with her,\" Saone said. \"A girl of the Ehramanis clan.\"\n\nShe snorted out a derisive laugh. \"She won't do much damage.\"\n\nSaone dismissed her gruff answer by putting an arm around her. \"Come...\" she said. \"We have a few more things to —\"\n\nShe comes.\n\nThe calm, soothing voice was so unexpected that Saone stopped dead in her tracks and gasped. She felt the dark chill rolling down her back, doubling back when all the sounds and voices that filled the warehouse quelled at once, leaving quiet and cold silence. Someone, perhaps Nehalé, had spoken within everyone in the immediate area at once — no mean feat, even for a well-trained Mendaihu — and had commanded the attention of every single person inside and outside the warehouse.\n\nShe comes!\n\nA second chill raced down her back.\n\nThe One of All Sacred is here.\n\nSaone dared not speak into this silence, either aloud or within. She dared not even think a complete thought, for fear that it would disrupt whatever was about to happen. Even as she shifted weight from one leg to the other, turning herself around to face the open dock doors, her steps were muffled by the overbearing quiet. The only noise came from the wind from the storm outside, racing down the cross streets and spilling into any open building. Many of the dock doors had been opened on the southern end, and now a cool breeze pushed through the warehouse, stilling the crowd even more. She heard the soft murmur of the transports at the detour a few blocks up, and the rumble of the storm reaching the Tower a few miles away. It was only seconds later, when it rumbled again, that what she actually heard was something entirely different. This was not a thunderstorm.\n\n_Rain of Light_ , she mouthed silently.\n\nA dozen or so people surrounding her turned slowly and faced her without so much as a word or a sound, as if to confirm her darkest fear. When they turned back seconds later, she felt a tear fall down her cheek. It was then that she saw the crowd slowly parting to make way for the One of All Sacred.\n\n_I am here,_ the young girl said.\n\n*\n\n_I am here,_ she said.\n\nDenni stood just inside one of the warehouse doors and slowly scanned the thousands of Mendaihu and Shenaihu, who were all staring back at her in rapt silence. She sensed each and every one of them. They were quiet, reverent...and they were all waiting for her. For _her_ , the One of All Sacred in its Ninth Embodiment. She stood there, not daring to move another step, not yet. She felt their eyes on her, the gossamer threads of their spirits reaching out to her, afraid to touch but powerless to ignore the attraction. They were anxious for the moment...they were patient and subdued. Their spirits were in flux.\n\n_I am the One of All Sacred_ , she said within.\n\nShe felt Amna's presence behind her. Always behind, never beside. She recognized her stance as reverence, not as subservience. She would be the closest to her from now on, an ever loyal and trusted _sehnadha_. Amna would remain close to her from here on in...yet the spiritual bond she and her sister shared would not be surpassed. Caren... _Karinna_...she would always be the closest spirit to her, the Protector.\n\n_I have come to Awaken you all_.\n\nShe exhaled and very slowly stepped into the warehouse. She did not know exactly where she was headed in this place...except that they moved back with each step she took. She scanned over the crowd at the racks and the mezzanines, searching for a place where she could see all of them and they could see her. The words she spoke within were reaching them clearly. She raised her lips in a half-smile...and the people closest to her returned her expression ten-fold.\n\n_I am Dennise Johnson; I am Denysia Shalei si Emmadha si Dhumélis. I am not Meraladian or Mannaki by direct bloodline; I am Gharné, and I am Trisandi by spirit and by ancient bloodline. I am my own; I am part of All. I am singularity; I am duality. We are_ all _duality._\n\nShe found the steps to the northern mezzanine and made her way to them in a slow arc. She needed a high place for everyone to see her when she at last spoke aloud. As she walked she remembered the words given to her by Ampryss...her Spirit Guide. Ampryss! She now understood who she was! Ampryss was Trisandi, her anchor to all other realities, and the One of All Sacred was the only spirit who could safely and knowledgeably travel all of them. If it wasn't for the fact that her spirit was giddy with this sudden influx of Light and Knowledge, she would not have been able to accept this daunting fate.\n\n_We are_ all _duality. We are One._\n\nDid anyone out there on the floor understand what she was saying? Would they in time? She shook that thought out of her head, realizing that she could ill afford to doubt herself right now; she was their chance to learn all that she, the One of All Sacred, had to teach them. She was their _only_ chance.\n\nWe are here, you and I, to set things right. We are here, ultimately, to learn and to evolve. We wish to ascend, to lift our spirits to higher plains of consciousness, to higher states of being. Hear this now: none of you — NONE of you! — are unworthy of this simple quest. Because we are all descendants of Trisanda, that is our ultimate goal, and it is one we are all able to achieve in our own way.\n\nBalance. Love. Peace. Light. Understanding.\n\nDenni stopped at the bottom stair, and turned to look at the still-silent crowd. They were waiting in rapt silence for her to say more...yet she found herself wanting someone, anyone, to join in. This journey was not just hers. This was everyone's. She could feel the presence of non-Mendaihu souls here; some were curious onlookers who resonated with everyone, but most were Shenaihu. The element of danger — the _possibility_ of danger, she reminded herself — was there, with the two polar opposites here in this ultimately confined space. It could just as easily turn into another pitched battle, but she refused to let that happen.\n\nI hear...I see Light and Dark surrounding me. I feel it.\n\nHer eyes stopped on a young woman. She was slim with an athletic build, with short jet-black hair, and dark eyes open wide in equal parts awe and terror. She tentatively reached out her senses to touch her aura, when the most unexpected and surprising thing happened: the woman flinched.\n\nFear!\n\n\"Do not be afraid,\" she said aloud, directly at the woman. Again, she reached out her senses, this time with a deliberate slowness. \"You are not alone here, _eichi_. There is no need to cower. I will not harm you.\"\n\n\"I —\" the woman started. Fear gave way to anger; she changed from stock still to defensive stance in one fluid movement. The surrounding crowd gasped in shock. Was she really that terrified of being touched by the One of All Sacred? \"I —\" she said again. Her hands wavered slightly, dropped a few inches. A single tear appeared under her right eye.\n\nThe crowd surrounding them stood still, not daring to move for fear that their motions would be construed as an attack.\n\n_D-Denysia..._ the woman whispered. _Do not tempt me._\n\n\"I do not tempt you,\" Denni said quietly. \"I welcome you.\"\n\n\"Don't —\" she growled. The woman shifted in place, hands still in the air in front of her, ready for combat. The inner demon held fast. Yet there was confusion within this anger, within this fear, as if she'd had a revelation, that something she'd never wanted to understand, had come to light and she had been cruelly forced to accept it. She choked back a sob, blinked out the tears, and held her stance.\n\n_Kryssyna..._ the woman said.\n\nAnother woman, brilliant auburn curls framing her oval face, moved closer and took the woman's left hand. This woman looked absolutely terrified, yet refused to back away from her friend. Denni sensed the ripple within her senses of the second spirit moving in, giving this woman her strength. She had given it selflessly, without question. Denni felt the second woman's fear, channeled through the first woman's spirit. Denni knew not to fight against these two together, for their combined strength could obliterate that of a fifteen year-old girl. She did not have to remind herself of her mortality. They were both Shenaihu, and they were here to do something...something not according to plan.\n\n\"You are Shenaihu,\" she said. \"You, Saone Lehanna, are perhaps one of the strongest Shenaihu I've sensed yet. Your energy knows no bounds. I commend you for that. And you, Kryssyna Piramados, you are her anchor. You are her _shadhisi_.\" The two women lowered their hands slightly and stared at her in a mixture of disbelief and panic as she moved closer towards them. \"You two are blessed to be here. Your presence here shall not go unnoticed.\" She reached out and touched their clasped hands. Another wave of energy rippled through of her own emotions, mostly of love and acceptance of those around her. She touched them, and felt everything align. Their spirits, their minds slowed to a restful peace, their inner storms quelled for the time being.\n\nSaone gasped. \"N...no...p-please, I beg you...\"\n\nFor the moment, Denni did not pay any attention to the thousands of people circling them. They were all still fixated on her, watching her every move. They would do whatever she told them to. For now she just wanted them to wait. There were some things here that she felt were more important. Saone and Kryssyna had come so close in their attempt to undo what Nehalé had started, that they commanded her attention.\n\n\"You are the duality,\" Saone managed to whisper. Her voice was speaking her anger through the tears, as well as her faint hope that violence would not come after all. \"You're the duality we seek...do you understand?\"\n\n\"I understand your pain,\" Denni said. \"I understand your misery, your feeling of abandonment...but what I do not understand is why you have chosen the path you have. Why such animosity?\"\n\n\"We...\"\n\nThe answer came to her in thousands of growling, screaming voices, directed everywhere at once, within her. _They are the Shenaihu!_ _Save them!_ _They are the nuhm'ndah! The Nameless! Their violence knows no end!_ The crowd began to move. Something had shifted, and she felt it all start to spiral. _They have refused to accept the Mendaihu... Save them...! No, kill them! They have killed our own! Save them, Dearest One..._ _I am Shenaihu...please, we need this peace..._ _Help us! Show us the way!_\n\nMore voices, more than she could count. Saone's answer had been drowned out by the unsolicited voices of all those around her. They spoke within her, they spoke out loud...and not one person had cared to listen to anyone else around them. Denni staggered back from the force of the wave, and nearly tripped on the bottom stair behind her. It was only by luck that Amna caught her before she fell. The voices grew even louder, everyone now shouting over each other, both aloud and within.\n\n_Stop...please,_ Denni cried.\n\n_Save them first,_ Saone said to her.\n\nAmna took hold of her arm. _Denysia, I'm right here...are you all right?_\n\n\"I...\" Her own voice was lost in the din. She looked up, saw Saone and Kryssyna backing away, a look of defeat on their faces. No, that wasn't defeat; it was _acceptance._ Acceptance of the fact that Denni was not going to be able to help them after all.\n\n\"Stop!\" she yelled, to no avail. _Saone!_\n\n_Save them first!_ Saone cried.\n\nShe tried to move forward to catch the two women, but she had already lost sight of them. _Saone!_ She could feel her moving away, towards the western end of the warehouse, towards the empty offices...she was retreating further and further away, and she couldn't reach her.\n\nSTOP IT, ALL OF YOU!\n\nSomething inside of her shifted. She felt the glow of energy welling up inside her, pushing her backward again. Tears of pain and anger welled up in her eyes, blurring her sight. She twisted and darted up the mezzanine stairs. Below her, the others had become lost in their own cacophony, their disbelief that the One of All Sacred may just have let them down in so short a time. They didn't dare _think_ that, Denni knew, but they sure felt it, and she could feel it as well.\n\nSTOP! ALL OF YOU! In the name of the Goddess, you WILL stop this foolishness!\n\n_Denysia,_ she heard the voice within.\n\n\"Damn it!\" she cried, more at the voice than at the situation, but at that point it didn't matter. She chose to answer. \"Ampryss, what has happened?\"\n\nThey hear, yet they are still deaf to your words, child. They see, yet they are still blind.\n\nDenni cursed again. _What should I do?_\n\nFind Nehalé Usarai. He will help you.\n\nNehalé Usarai.\n\nDenni shivered. The man that had started the awakening ritual days ago...who had brought all of these spirits here to this warehouse...the man behind her own Awakening. The man who had brought Caren and Poe and Nick and Sheila together to solve a case Denni now knew to be unsolvable. There _was_ no case. It was the Goddess' Divine Plan.\n\n_Karinna..._ she thought, fighting back tears. _I am so sorry..._ She wiped the tears away, and looked at Amna. She was crying as well, her disappointment running deep. They stood silently at the foot of the stairs, looking out at the floor. The loyal followers, who had invited her here, who had _expected_ her here at this time, had fallen back on their old ways of linear thinking, of seeing the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu only as polar opposites. They were arguing amongst themselves, some quietly and some violently, at who was right and who was wrong. They all ignored the fact that the One of All Sacred, their supposed savior, stood among them.\n\nStill others fell silent, kneeling before her. They were near the back, the ones who understood. She felt the peace within them, centering their own energies and attempting to reach out and touch the others with them. They sacrificed their own safety by opening their hearts completely to all those around them. They radiated Love and Light in all directions.\n\nDenni sensed Nehalé among them.\n\n\"Amna,\" she said over her shoulder. \"Can you reach Nehalé Usarai from here?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Not too hard finding his spirit signature in this mess,\" she said with a smile, wiping away the tears. \"I think I know what you have in mind.\"\n\n\"Good,\" Denni answered. \"Find him and get him here as soon as you can.\"\n\nAmna skipped back down the stairs two at a time and plowed her way through the crowd. With her small frame, she was able to slide through gaps in the crowd almost without notice, and within minutes she had reached the far end of the crowd. Amna stepped gingerly around the followers kneeling in prayer until she found the one man who still stood amongst them. Nehalé Usarai stared directly at her from across the warehouse, hands clasped tightly in front of him and head cocked slightly down, waiting.\n\n_Come, Nehalé_ , Denni said to him. _Your work is not yet over._\n\nFrom this distance she could see his shoulders sag, his eyes close and his head lift up to the ceiling, relieved by her words. He bowed in her direction, and took Amna's outstretched hand. He smiled.\n\n_As you wish, Dearest One_ , he said. After a moment she realized his reaction had not been relief but of a closely guarded elation. The joy he felt shot through the crowd and hit her squarely in the heart, making her laugh. They took two steps towards her...\n\nGone. Their bodies blinked out of existence. Denni grasped at the railing in front of her and gasped. _Where...?_\n\nA second later they reappeared at the bottom of the staircase, both of them at a full run.\n\nWhere...?\n\n_Come, Dearest One,_ Nehalé said. _Take my hand._\n\nBefore Denni could protest, let alone turn to follow, Nehalé had grabbed her and pulled her into the maze of half-collapsed readymade offices. She tripped over a metal runner, lost her balance and went sailing on her right side towards the concrete floor. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, but to her surprise there was none. She opened her eyes, and All was Light...\n\n*\n\nCaren ducked her head down and held the collar of her jacket close as they made their way towards the warehouse. An unseasonably cold wind pushed towards them, coming from the storm front that had overtaken the city. She wondered where her sister was, if she had made it to the warehouse, if she was safe. She was old enough and smart enough to protect herself...but from this?\n\n_Have faith in yourself, Denysia,_ she thought. _Stay safe. I'll be there soon._\n\nThey had managed to ditch the car at a nearly vacant police precinct house just a few blocks away from Chapel Street. An officer just coming off duty offered them a ride as close as they could get by car. The officers and the soldiers were not forbidding people from crossing their lines, but they were not advising it. Their safety measures were understandable. They had also heard the low rumbling of thunder, and were now feeling the occasional stray raindrop hitting their faces. Caren was relieved that at least they were at least on McCleever Street so they could get there as quickly as possible.\n\n\"Goddess,\" Poe said, his pace slowing. His head was up, looking at the storm front now nearly upon them.\n\n\"What?\" she said.\n\n\"Rain,\" he said, stopping in his tracks.\n\n\"Don't stop now, Alec,\" she said, frowning at him. \"It's just a damn storm cloud. What's the problem?\"\n\n\"It's not a storm cloud,\" he said, and turned to look behind her. He pointed at the darkness pulling over the center of the city. \"Kai...when was the last time you and Ashan took at the weather in this sector?\"\n\n_Goddess,_ Caren thought to herself. _Now is not the time, Poe..._\n\nKai squinted then frowned. \"Maybe once after our meeting. Ashan?\" She looked at her brother, but he had already closed his eyes.\n\n\"I'm checking right now...it looks like — _gahhh!_ \" Ashan clutched at his eyes and hunched over in pain. \"Ahhh....ah...Goddess, that _stung._ \" He moaned deeply and bowed his head. \"Pashyo, we're too damn close now.\"\n\nKai immediately held an arm out over him, pulling him close. He sputtered a few words of Anjshé, shook his head, and opened his eyes. He looked up at her, blinking furiously and attempting to focus on her face. He resisted temptation to continue rubbing at his eyes and pushed himself erect. He'd reacted as if someone had unleashed a cloud of pepper spray in his face.\n\n\"We're too close,\" he repeated, his head bowing down again in acute pain.\n\n\"Too close...?\" Caren shook her head. \"What the hell are we talking about?\"\n\n\"It's a Rain of Light,\" he muttered. \"I can't look at it this close. It's...\" He groaned again, rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching his other hand in a tight fist in front of him. \"It's almost too late,\" he said. \"She's there already, Caren. Denni's already there. She can't handle this Rain alone.\"\n\nCaren did not want to hear those words, not after the way she left things. She looked at Poe, who stared transfixed at the cloud in front of them. He frowned at it, as if trying to understand it somehow, and having no idea how to confront it let alone combat it if it came to that. Eventually he turned to the east, then back to the storm, measuring its distance.\n\n_Denysia...if only I could reach you,_ she thought.\n\n\"Kai,\" Poe said. \"How do I know this?\"\n\nKai looked at him from her hunched stance as she tried to comfort her brother. She didn't answer.\n\n\"We're inside the _hrrah-sehdhyn_ , aren't we?\" he asked, and started pointing in several directions. \"Sculler's Crossing is right down the street. Lexington Square is south-southwest...I think we're just on the inside. If we went to the beach, I think we'd be outside of it.\"\n\n\"Bring it home, Poe,\" Caren said. She glanced down the street towards the warehouse, then at him. She decided that she desperately needed to hear what he had to say.\n\n\"If we split up...\" he started. He glanced at Caren, as if expecting her to object, but she remained calm enough to hear him through. They both knew this was not just a matter of getting Denni back. \"You and I head toward the warehouse, Kai and Ashan to the beach, I think we can ground ourselves.\"\n\n_Ground...?_ Caren threw up her hands. \"A little explanation please,\" she said flatly.\n\nPoe struggled with his words, and finally turned to Kai. \"I think you could explain it better.\"\n\nKai frowned at them, or rather in their direction, at the storm clouds, and huffed in frustration. She nodded silently at an unheard comment from Ashan, and stepped away from him. \"Come,\" she said, directing them back around the corner and out of sight of the cloud. Caren thought that odd, wondering what difference their moving could possibly make. Once safely on the steps of a brownstone on a narrow side street, Kai continued. She laid a hand on her brother's shoulder as she talked.\n\n\"The Rain of Light,\" she said, \"is somewhat of a spiritual limbo, I suppose you'd call it. The reason I chose to move us out of its line of sight is that it is, in fact, sentient. Its main nerve center is in its core, which looks to be situated directly above the warehouse. It must be choosing to anchor itself there. I don't know how far their sensory reach is, but being just out of its direct line of sight might help. Especially now that it knows Ashan is here.\n\n\"Each province and settlement has one or more Rains, spirits who have passed from this plane but have not yet ascended for one reason or another. Some are lost souls that have forgotten their way, but eventually they remember their True Fate and move on. Most Rain spirits, however...they are here permanently, by choice. Normally they are there to assist those still on this plane.\"\n\n\"How do they assist?\" Caren asked. \"And how long have they been here?\"\n\nKai reached out and touched her on the arm. \"They've been there for as long as humans have been on Gharra. It's only been recently, with the arrival of the Meraladians that we've been able to recognize them. I believe our heightened consciousness in spiritual matters — the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, for instance — has something to do with that. However...I think we've underestimated the Rain of Light this time out.\"\n\n\"We?\" Caren said. \"You mean Nehalé.\"\n\n\"I mean _all_ of us,\" she answered, waving her hands wide. \"I mean the Gharné, the Meraladhza, everyone. I personally thought these sentient spirits were always benevolent. These kinds of spirits usually are.\" She paused, looking upwards at the lighter cloud cover. She sensed that these outer clouds were simply condensation gathered up by the Rain, harmless in their being and action.\n\n\"Something may have disrupted them,\" she said. \"I believe the Rain has been... _injured_ somehow.\"\n\n\"The nuhm'ndah?\" Poe offered.\n\n\"Perhaps...\" Kai shrugged. \"Although I don't know how the Shenaihu could possibly have had a part in it. Unless...\" She stopped in thought.\n\n\"Unless that was his reason for the Awakening,\" Caren said. \"He must have tried to get Denni — I mean the One of All Sacred, to Awaken as protection from something the nuhm'ndah had done. Or was going to do. It's not the first time, right? This must be...\" She shook her head, angry and exhausted at the same time. It sounded so easy, they should have figured this out that first day! This had been the missing motive all along, and they'd just been too blind to see it.\n\n\"This _is_ the same thing,\" Kai finished. \"The Rain of Light must not be meddled with. Deliberate disruption of spirits in Rain manifestation is dangerous...some spirits could be easily swayed towards chaos, especially the lost ones. Very much like stirring up a hive. If one spirit is pushed in the wrong direction — say, as a slave to the Shenaihu or to the Mendaihu, to pit against one another — there's a _very_ high probability more will sway to its side. That may explain yesterday's attacks, to some extent.\"\n\n_Goddess,_ Caren shuddered. Did that man even know what the hell he was doing when he set off that ritual?\n\n\"Sure...but ordinary people?\" Poe said. \"These were B-Towners attacking the church. Not ethereal spirits!\"\n\n\"They must have been directed somehow,\" she said, frowning. \"Spirits have been known to cohabit with the original in its body. Citizen or not, innocents were used and slaughtered by twinning souls. It's been done countless times before.\"\n\n\"Who would do that?\" Caren winced in revulsion. \"Who in their right mind would even _contemplate_ doing that?\"\n\n\"The Dahné, Natianos Lehanna,\" Ashan said. \"The leader of the nuhm'ndah here in Bridgetown. No one knows quite what he has in mind, but there's no doubt he could pull this off.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"...and I personally believe he's twisted enough to do it. He knew who was behind the...um...\" he faltered, averting his eyes from Caren. \"I'm _certain_ that he knew who killed your parents, Karinna. He must have been the one to request the case be shut down unsolved.\"\n\n_Goddess...even you?_ Caren seared her anger into Ashan, regardless of the psychic pain he'd received earlier. _Who else knows more than I do about my own parents? Why have I deliberately been kept in the dark for so fucking long?_\n\nChief Inspector Farraway. That bastard _had_ to have known all this time.\n\nAshan winced and shied away, but spiritually he was of stone. _Many know, though I cannot say I know who they are, just that they kept quiet to protect Denysia and yourself, Karinna. Believe me when I tell you this: you would_ _not_ _have survived had you known when it happened. You were not yet ready...though you are more than qualified now._\n\n_Damn you!_ Caren squeezed her eyes shut tight and fought the urge to release the windstorm of anger that welled inside her. It billowed and ate at her, consuming her own will, and it had begun to scare her. She felt the tears rolling down her face, realizing they were not tears of rage but of fear. She recoiled from her own fear, sought the solace of the here and now...\n\n... _Denysia..._\n\n...and brushed off the hand that Kai had extended. She would not accept, nor ask for a soulhealer, not now. She had had enough of running from that past. She would finally face this pain once and for all.\n\nDenysia...gods, please! Please, be safe, Den...\n\n\"No,\" she said to Kai, as quietly and evenly as she could. \"Thank you, but no.\" Then, to Ashan: \"I do apologize, my _eicho_. That will not happen again.\"\n\nAshan accepted her apology with a silent nod.\n\n\"Well...\" Kai said eventually. \"I think I know what Poe had in mind. Although I can't say whether or not it will work. The hrrah-sehdhyn could act like a barrier for the Rain, if there were someone or something grounding it. What Nehalé had in mind was the awakening of the Rain. The nuhm'ndah had planned to keep it within those five points, thus keeping it all within a confined space. We'd need a spiritual link — the four of us, two on either side of the pentagon border. Two to go in and act as the conductor, two to act as the ground. The best we can hope for is to contain the cloud in the area. Our goal would be to drain it of energy.\"\n\n\"It'll work very much like a lightning rod,\" Poe said. \"I've heard about it...never seen it done, though.\"\n\nKai nodded with a smile directed at him, and proceeded to explain the steps they would have to take within the next hour or so, if they were going to stop or at least calm the storm. Caren listened with the rapt attention she gave her ARU position. The Alien Relations Unit certainly had its share of spiritual cases outside of its normal interspecies workload...but this, in Caren's eyes, had to be some sort of crowning achievement.\n\n_Denysia..._ Caren pursed her lips and tried hard not to let the tears well up in her eyes as she focused on her sister. She so desperately wanted to be with her right now, to be there when she needed her help the most. If it meant going in to uncertain territory...if it meant facing something she did not fully understand let alone trust...she would do it for her. She would do anything for her.\n\n\"I'm going in,\" she said. \"It would only make sense.\"\n\nPoe nodded. \"I'm going with her.\"\n\nCaren smiled, still choking back tears, and caressed her partner's back. _Thank you, Alec,_ she said to him.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE\n\n_Consequence_\n\n...Denni picked herself up off the grass.\n\nGrass?\n\nShe was facing a line of trees bent from the wind, set back and slightly downhill, marking the edge of an outcropping of grass and rocks. A small footpath cut through the brush and down towards...? She was at the Crest again. How had she gotten up here? That's right...Nehalé had taken her away from the warehouse and stepped into Light. So why here? Why now? Frustrated, she shook the jumble of questions out of her head, and faced the city.\n\nAbove the storm front, it was clear as day.\n\nShe caught her breath. The immense, muddy gray clouds hovered over the city, obscuring the entirety of it save the uppermost floors of the Mirades Tower. Its weather beacon blinked in a steady warning pattern, almost in time with the sway of the searchlights that tried in vain to cut a swath through the storm. She felt an icy chill...an inner chill that dulled her senses and made her lethargic. She stepped back, for all the good it would do, and willed herself not to fall prey to it. She remembered her conversation with Ampryss, and shuddered.\n\n_Denysia_. Amna was calling out to her. _Denysia...do not worry. I am only waiting._ She was close by, though she could not tell where.\n\nAmna? Where are you?\n\n\"She is safe,\" he said behind her.\n\n\"Nehalé!\" she gasped, startled by his voice. \"Why are we up here? Where's Amna?\"\n\nNehalé bowed his head, but it seemed more out of shame than reverence. He was well aware that he'd been the cause of all the events up to this point, and he could no longer hide from the guilt. \"I brought you up here, Denysia, so you can see what is happening from a distance,\" he said quietly, a hint of anxiety in his voice. He gestured at the blanketed sprawl with a sweeping hand. \"The Rain of Light...the cloud covering you see before you...\"\n\n\"It's consuming us,\" Denni said gravely. She bit her lip and watched the cloud cover in silence, holding her arms tight around her in another attempt to escape the chill. It was so ominous, so _unnatural_ to her. When she was last up in that otherwhere, this was exactly what she'd seen, knowing what it was even before she could understand it. She'd seen thousands of satellite clouds like this, covering nearly all the cities up and down the coast, even in the inner Wilderlands. \"I had hoped this wouldn't happen,\" she continued. \"I'd hoped I could have avoided everything by accepting those two Shenaihu women.\" As soon as she'd said it, she knew that would not have made a difference. Something else...something to placate the Rain of Light, to retain the balance, had to be performed.\n\n\"That was the problem,\" Nehalé said. \"You see, it was your simple act of unconditional love that took them by surprise. The Shenaihu are not always as peaceful as the Mendaihu may be, Denysia. The Mendaihu tribe is the spiritual manifestation, they gather intellectually; it is their nature. The Shenaihu are the physical manifestation of the Trisandi energy. They gather physically, as that is _their_ nature. The nuhm'ndah are Shenaihu extremists...they gather out of a deep physical _want_.\"\n\n\"I understand that now,\" Denni said. She shifted position again in another attempt to keep warm. Where was this cold snap coming from? Outside the Rain of Light, it was a humid eighty-three degrees and not a cloud in the sky. She eyed the Rain again and huffed. There was something she had to do, to clear it all, make it all good again. But how?\n\n\"Denysia?\" Nehalé said. \"Are you all right?\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" she said, waving him off. \"So...what I don't understand is what's going on now. You caused this, Nehalé Usarai. You caused the Rain of Light to wake itself up when you woke _me_ up. But I am equally to blame now. It reacted when I touched those two women, as mundane as that act may be. Perhaps it resonated with my actions?\"\n\nNehalé nodded. \"I'm certain that's it.\"\n\n\"What I don't understand is why the Rain is acting the way it is. \"\n\n\"Here,\" he said, and held out a hand. \"Let me show you.\"\n\n*\n\n\"Denysia.\" Amna's voice was clear now, speaking aloud. She felt her hand on her shoulder as her eyes adjusted to the brighter and sharper view. This was just like when she was at Branden Hill, when she was up in that otherwhere. This was Lightseeing. \"I'm sorry I couldn't be with you just then,\" her friend said. \"Nehalé told me I'd be safer here.\"\n\n\"I agree with him. Things aren't looking...\" She stopped in midsentence as she began to turn around and face the city below...\n\n...and saw instead one giant, swirling spiral of light, and the eye of its hurricane hovering over the Waterfront Sector, specifically over the Moulding Warehouse. All was Light. She saw the energies of the world, felt them and understood them. Down below, in the city, the Rain of Light had condensed to such a degree that it had become a small sun, scattered arms of Light pulling human energies ever closer to its center. If it had not been so close and so threatening, she would have accepted the spiral's majestic beauty. It closely resembled a galaxy formation, in a way...\n\n_Galaxy,_ she thought.\n\n_That's it!_ She turned wide-eyed at the two of them, and waved her hands frantically as she fought to speak words quicker than she could come up with them. She abruptly giggled at herself, remembering that gesture as one of her mother's personal quirks, and began to pace as she spoke.\n\n\"We can contain it,\" she said. \"We can bring it back to its dormancy again. All we need is someone to gather it.\"\n\nNehalé seemed to twitch at her suggestion. \"It's highly unstable, Dearest One,\" he said. Other words hung in the air, waiting to be said, but he would never dare to call the One of All Sacred crazy. \"Who would have the strength to handle a Gathering?\"\n\n\"Pool our resources,\" Amna said. \"I'm sure Den could handle it on her own. It's just a matter of someone being there to keep everything grounded.\"\n\nDenni hid a shiver by fidgeting again. Nervous energy coursed through her body, a mixture of excitement and intense conviction. Caren and the others were most likely thinking the same thing, and were acting on it already. This was an idea Poe would have come up with as well; he of all people would understand the sheer magnitude of attempting to realign the balance of such a force of energy.\n\n\"Protectors of the One are there for that reason, aren't they?\" Denni said. \"Caren and Alec are somewhere down there, with Kai and Ashan. They'll know what to do.\" She nodded towards the Waterfront. She held her gaze at the swirling mass of Light and energy for a moment, watching its imminent threat and impossible beauty. She could tell from this distance that its epicenter was over the warehouse, and there was indeed precious little time left.\n\n\"It'll work,\" she said. \"I have faith it will.\"\n\nAgain, Nehalé left words hanging. His lack of faith worried her. She only hoped his faith in himself was as strong as he displayed it.\n\n\"I suggest we return to the warehouse first,\" Amna said. \"We need to calm everyone down before we can do anything else.\"\n\n\"Let's go then,\" she said aloud. \"Nehalé?\"\n\nHe bowed slightly towards her. \"Yes, Dearest One?\"\n\n\"Thanks for bringing me up here,\" she said, touching his arm. \"I had to see what was going on from the outside before I could act. I would have come to this conclusion eventually...but not as quickly.\"\n\n\"I am but a Warrior, emha,\" he said.\n\nShe grinned at his stubborn subservience. \"And a great one you are,\" she said, and took his hand. \"Let's go.\"\n\n*\n\nGovernor Rieflin stood at the tinted floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the northern wall of the governor's quarters, silently debating how to proceed. The billowing storm cloud circled around them and effectively cut them off from the rest of the world below. The view of the sea of clouds and little else bordered on the surreal, and Anton felt extremely uncomfortable by it. He stared outside, contemplating the storm, but found little in the way of answers.\n\nHe had watched it for a good part of the afternoon, especially since the disappearance of Councilor Mancka Udéma, and began to wonder about the inevitable political backlash he would be receiving soon. He hated to think that way, but as a provincial governor, there was no getting past the vultures. He'd be hearing from the corporations again soon enough. He chose to ignore them for now, his main focus remaining on the situation at Moulding Warehouse. His eyes and ears were the police and ARU forces lining the perimeter, and he trusted them.\n\nNandahya Mirades stood beside him, her arms crossed. \"There's no threat to the Tower, Anton. There's little more we can do right now other than watch. That storm out there seems to be hovering over the warehouse, by the looks of it.\"\n\nThe swift change of subject temporarily took him by surprise. \"You're saying it stopped there?\"\n\n\"Stopped,\" she echoed. They both stared at the storm's eye in silence for a long moment. \"Stopped,\" she repeated.\n\n\"Storm clouds don't just _stop_ ,\" he said. \"Unless you can explain to me what this anomaly is, I'm afraid I can't do a damn thing except stare at it. Any ideas, Nandahya?\"\n\nShe shrugged. \"A few, but none that make sense. I'm thinking there might be some...\" she trailed off, thoughts suddenly lost somewhere. She dropped her arms heavily and returned to the couch on the other side of the room. Her mouth slowly dropped into a frown, and her eyelids grew heavy. Belatedly Anton realized she was trying to sense someone down below, so he left her alone. He debated calling Shirai, but chose against it. There was little she could have done anyway other than analyze the situation. It would have to wait until...until when? He felt lost, having no way to gauge his own emotions and thoughts against what was going on down there. Unlike the events of the last few days, no one was coming to harm, and everyone around him had assumed that nothing dangerous would happen that he'd have to answer for.\n\nHe was clearly out of his league, and it bothered the hell out of him.\n\n\"Rain,\" Nandahya suddenly said, her voice louder than expected, and he twitched in surprise. \"It's not raining down there.\"\n\nAnton frowned. \"Excuse me?\"\n\nShe shook herself out of her daze and faced him. \"It's not raining down there. With clouds _that_ thick, you'd expect some form of precipitation. I'm sensing from others down there right now that the front lobby's cool and dry. Not your normal cloud cover, Anton.\"\n\nAnton shivered. \"I've already read the meteorologists' reports. They just think it's a late summer storm. I'm feeling otherwise.\"\n\nNandahya studied him as he said that. \"How?\"\n\n\"How what?\"\n\n\"How are you feeling that? How do you know it's not a summer storm?\"\n\nHe shrugged as he glanced at the windows again. \"I don't know...just a hunch, I guess. And storms normally don't stall like that, even if they're slow moving. Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"Because I think I know what's happening. But before I say anything else, let me ask you a question.\"\n\nAnton cocked an eyebrow. \"What does this have to do with anything?\"\n\n\"It could mean everything _,_ \" Nandahya said. \"Please, sir.\"\n\nHe nodded and took a seat in the opposite couch, facing her. They both sat on the opposite ends of their couches, she near the main exit and he near his desk. It was an odd arrangement for them, sitting at such an angle to each other, as if they'd subconsciously tried to get as far away from each other as possible. He had no reason to do so, it just happened by coincidence.\n\n\"I'm sorry, sir, if I'm making you uncomfortable...\" she began. \"I'm just trying to understand things, just as you are. Unfortunately, there are no ways to go about asking this without causing some kind of unease, so forgive me if I'm blunt.\"\n\n\"Blunt I'm used to. Ask away,\" he said kindly, though his pained expression betrayed his voice.\n\n\"Governor...I'd like to know if you've been awakened.\"\n\n_Awakened!_ He came close to breaking out in laughter, only to stop himself just in time. Goddess, maybe he was too exhausted to think straight. What a thing to ask! He was frequently mistaken for having Meraladian blood in him due to his height and body shape, but being a part of the Awakening? Definitely not. He'd been spared, just like everyone else who'd been inside the Tower that night. He tried to give her the most honest and calm answer he could muster. \"As far as I know, Nandahya, I haven't,\" he said with a brief, uncertain smile. \"Although I can't say I would have noticed any difference if I had.\"\n\n\"You'd know,\" she assured him.\n\n\"That would be a 'no,' then. All I've felt is stress, annoyance, and a nagging urge to get some blessed sleep sometime this week. I can't say I've felt anything different. Nothing out of the ordinary.\"\n\nNandahya blushed. \"I do apologize, Governor, for being so straightforward...\"\n\n\"No need for titles here,\" he said, waving a hand at her. \"There's no need to apologize. I'm just curious, however, as to why you asked.\"\n\nShe shifted in her seat, still clearly embarrassed. \"The Awakening ritual affected quite a lot of people in this city,\" she said. \"More than anyone's expected. I needed to know.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" he said. \"And as I said, I don't think I have. However...that does make our jobs more complicated, doesn't it? We're in charge of taking _care_ of these people. If they all happen to have a religious epiphany, great...but we still have to make sure the zealots don't start with the witch hunts.\"\n\nNandahya frowned at him. \"Witch hunts? Honestly, Anton...\"\n\n\"I can't rule them out,\" he persisted. \"As improbable as that may be. Meraladians have been around for two hundred years, with very little antialien uprising against them, other than the radicals here and there. We Gharné lucked out in that respect. You have no idea how many of us thought your race had ulterior motives at first.\"\n\nNandahya's face had turned pale. \"Sir...\"\n\n\"Please, let me finish,\" he interrupted. \"Like I said, you've been around for two hundred years. Now us Gharné? We've had our own religion and spirituality for millennia, and we've had all levels of it, from peaceful to downright apocalyptic. Now forgive me if I'm way out of line here, but the last time we had a major uprising of a religious or spiritual nature was a quarter century ago...and we all know how that ended. I'm sure that nearly everyone who's awakened the last few days have been changed for the better...but I can't ignore the possibility that it could happen again. I'm not about to evacuate the entire damn Sprawl any time soon, however. I absolutely refuse to take that course of action unless it's necessary.\"\n\nOut of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of lightning outside. It was followed by the sound of a low rumble of thunder a few seconds later. Perhaps the storm was finally breaking...? In the dimming light of the office, he couldn't tell if her reaction to those words was well-hidden shock or just plain surprise. He pushed himself back off the couch and headed to his desk, hiding the amusement on his face.\n\n\"Don't get me wrong, Nandahya,\" he continued. \"I don't plan to outlaw these...these divisions, for lack of a better term. I don't plan on stifling anyone's freedoms. But I won't turn away when the violence starts, either. I caught a lucky break when that ARU agent called the Sentinel team to St. Patrick's, making my own non-police security agency look good in the process. I'm sorry if that sounds crass, but I don't mean it to be. But when the Sentinels got involved, I was forced in myself. You know how the media charade goes, don't you?\"\n\n\"All too well,\" she said distractedly. She'd begun staring off into that nonspace again.\n\n\"So I'm forced to keep an eye on everyone,\" he continued, seating himself behind his desk. \"Or else it looks like I don't care, or that I'm ignorant. So many centuries of mass-produced media, and you'd think that the political mudslinging would have died out ages ago. Again, I'm sorry if that sounds crass because I'm trying to keep my job here, not my marketability. At any rate...the Sentinels are raring to go just in case anything happens.\"\n\n\"Nothing good will come out of military intervention in spiritual matters such as this,\" she said. \"I hope you know that.\"\n\n\"Of course I do,\" he said. \"And I hope you know that military invention in spiritual matters can save many lives as well. Purely as a peacekeeping mission, of course.\"\n\n\"Don't start, Anton,\" she countered, facing him with a devilish grin. \"You know how these kinds of arguments end up.\"\n\nHe very nearly answered that with a wisecrack but decided not to. \"I've got the BMPD near the warehouse,\" he said. \"They're stationed four blocks away, ready to move in if anything happens. I've done the same with the BMFD and emergency services. No one moves unless they hear from me. I've also got the Sentinel troop from North End close by, just in case. Again, no moves without my say-so.\"\n\nNandahya huffed at him. \"This is a peaceful congregation. Admittedly it's an illegal one, because no permit was sought...but what makes you think anything will happen?\"\n\n\"What makes you think nothing will?\" he asked.\n\nHer silence answered that question for her. He may not have had any experience in this kind of situation, but he certainly wasn't going to go into it without being prepared. He pushed himself out of a slouch, woke up the desk vidmat, and waited to make his next move.\n\n\"That's why you're here, Nandahya,\" he said, facing her. \"You're the first representative for the Mendaihu in Bridgetown. Second in Command in the Provincial Governor's Council. Normally I'd contact Mancka on this sort of thing, but as she's still missing, I have to go higher up and talk to you. Now, we can argue spirituality until we're blue in the face, or we can act. I'm about to establish contact with all my divisions down there, and I would like you to be a part of this. There's another vidmat on this desk if you so wish to use it.\"\n\nShe stared at him in utter surprise. His words must have sounded like an ultimatum that she was nowhere near ready to face, but he had to be adamant. After a moment she accepted, took the chair facing him, and signed herself into the network. She watched in silence as he tapped in security codes and talked his way through at least twelve people before getting the officers he wanted.\n\n\"This is just protocol I have to follow,\" he explained during a lull in the setup. \"Any questions before we go live?\"\n\n\"None that I can think of,\" she said. \"Am I cleared for all of this, though? Codes and all?\"\n\nHe nodded as he arranged all the connections in a grid pattern. \"Don't worry about it,\" he said and laughed quietly to himself. \"As much as it pains me to say this, I set up access for everyone on the Council a few days ago. Yes, even Philips and Priestley. I just haven't had the time or the chance to feed the upgrade into your 'mats and get you logged in.\"\n\nNandahya frowned, but didn't say anything right away. She must think he was crazy, giving everyone access like that! Especially Priestley...if Crimson-Null gave him the word, his power would trump everyone else's, including his. He had thought about this ahead of time, of course. He had his own plans for his old friend from Hallera.\n\nHe glanced down at all the miniature blue screens, then back up at Nandahya. \"Are you ready?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"I trust you,\" she said.\n\nHe glanced at her for a second, debating the intent of those words, but chose not to dwell on it. He reached over to the vidmat switchboard and brought all the screens to life.\n\nBut instead of seeing dozens of faces, nothing happened. No, not entirely...one screen came to life immediately and unexpectedly, in the top right corner. He tapped to enlarge it, and to his surprise saw the face of a civilian he hadn't contacted at all. The young man sat in what looked like a bedroom, though instead of furniture, an ungodly amount of techware cluttering the wall space. He was sitting in a workstation cage.\n\n\"Ah!\" the man said with an altogether too pleasant smile. \"Governor Anton. So glad to finally meet you, sir.\"\n\n\"What the — this is a restricted channel!\" he barked in surprise. \"Disconnect now or you _will_ be traced and arrested!\"\n\n\"Now, now,\" he said in a calm, somewhat hoarse voice. \"Is that any way to talk to the people you govern?\" He raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer.\n\nAnton growled. He had little time for these games, and switched the man's feedscreen off, only to find that it had remained frozen open. Even after prodding and punching the screen repeatedly, it was clear he no longer had control of his own vidmat. He grunted with annoyance and contemplated calling Shirai but couldn't, not with this civilian hacked into the system. He glanced at Nandahya again, but she was fixated on the man's image on the screen. Did she know him?\n\n\"Listen...sir, I believe we need to talk,\" the man said.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he seethed.\n\nAgain with the self-satisfied smile. \"Let's just say I've been watching you for quite some time, sir. Just watching.\"\n\n\"Watching...?\" He paled. \"Vigil.\" The man had brazenly hacked into a Provincial Governor's deck, and he'd done so bypassing all security and evading the countless firewalls, including Shirai's. And he hadn't even bothered to mask his face! Anton stared at the man, wondering how the hell this punk had managed to do it, and why he looked vaguely familiar. There was little he could do now, despite his best efforts, except wait out the hijacking. If rumors about Vigil were true, he would not be able to do anything at all until this man disconnected first.\n\n\"Again, a distinct pleasure, sir,\" the man said and bowed his head. \"And a pleasure to meet you as well, edha Mirades. Now...before you move ahead with your little conference, sir, I'd like to speak with you about a few things. Things you may find important.\"\n\n\"More important than...\" Anton caught himself, and prodded at the close-screen function again. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\"Just to talk,\" he repeated. \"It seems you and I have the same goals, and I believe we can work together. We all want peace between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, of course...but that's where you're making the mistake, sir. The battle is not linear, but one of balance. The culprit here is not edha Usarai and his Mendaihu, nor is it the Shenaihu and their nuhm'ndah henchmen. The problem, sir...lies within what you see out the window there. The Rain of Light.\"\n\nNandahya choked on her words.\n\nAnton glared at her. \"You knew?\" he spat. \"You knew all this damn time, and you didn't fucking _say_ anything?\"\n\nNandahya said nothing, but lowered her head.\n\n\"I'm surprised you didn't,\" the Vigil said.\n\n\"Shut up!\"\n\n\"Honestly, sir,\" he said, holding up his hands. \"I really thought you knew. Well — no matter. I just want to tell you that if you continue with this uplink with your poor man's army, I'm afraid that there may be irrevocable circumstances.\"\n\n\"They're there for security, damn you!\" he yelled. \"There will be no movement unless I tell them!\"\n\nThe Vigil shot him a pained expression. \"You trust them that much, sir?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, though he knew there wasn't enough conviction to it. Not enough to placate this man. \"I do.\"\n\n\"Well, your loss,\" he quipped. \"Seriously, I'm sure they all do great jobs...but they're _way_ out of their league here. Get ready to be taken completely by surprise, sir. The playing field is about to be taken over.\"\n\n\"What is that supposed to mean?\"\n\nThe Vigil smiled. \"You'll see soon enough. Just sit tight for now.\"\n\n*\n\n\"What do you see?\" Natianos Lehanna asked.\n\nJanoss Miradesi stood at the windows of Natianos' office, looking out over the sea of rippling clouds, and at the fleet of Special Forces helicopters hovering tentatively above them. The sun had begun its slow afternoon descent and the resulting brilliance of color as sunlight refracted off the condensation was truly breathtaking. Janoss, however, had not been seeing with completely human eyes, not since they had returned from Trisanda. He had decided upon arrival that this new way of seeing offered much more truth than in a normal field of vision. He thought of himself as a Watcher of the Shenaihu now, the first of hopefully many. This new spectrum carried thousands more shades of Light, thousands more frames of focus. It was a clearer, more intense vision than anything he'd ever seen, and it told no lies. If he had chosen to switch back from Watcher to human eyesight, he would have seen Natianos as the tall, slightly stocky and intimidating man he had always known ever since he began working under him. Now, with Watcher eyes, he saw him as he truly was: a slender, intelligent and youthful man, the same he had seen on Trisanda.\n\n\"It's a disorganized mess,\" he answered. \"Many hues, but it's almost impossible to distinguish one from the other, even with these eyes. There are too many to comprehend. There's no order to it.\"\n\n\"With Lightseeing,\" Natianos said, joining him at the window. \"You would have been blinded. You would have seen only the brilliance of the souls' energy, and not the consciousness. A collective consciousness, though in thousands of places at once. Each soul following its own separate destiny within the confines of a spiritual community as the Rain of Light.\"\n\nJanoss winced. \"And Nehalé believes he can control them from the warehouse?\"\n\n\"He does,\" Natianos smiled. \"He wishes to use the dual spirits. Those he has gathered in the warehouse, and those inside the Rain of Light. He wants to create a duality by Gathering. This ritual would create a body equally Shenaihuza and Mendaihuza...a cho-nyhndah by ritual rather than by inheritance. Most of the spirits within the Rain are Shenaihu, did you know that?\"\n\nHe stared at him, the aside unexpected. \"No,\" he said after a long pause. \"No, I didn't.\" Then, after another long pause, \"How did you know?\"\n\n\"Because I was once one of them.\"\n\nJanoss stared at him warily.\n\n\"And I tell you this: so was Nehalé Usarai. He and I were both in this Rain of Light that you see now, countless ages ago. Of course, he is Mendaihu, so naturally our two souls existed side by side. He is my duality, as it were. My spiritual twin. He cannot create a duality for himself, since I exist.\"\n\nJanoss frowned at him, unable to say a word. Had he not just looked at him with Watcher eyes, he would not have believed him. _Spiritual twins,_ he thought with a shudder. True enough these two were so completely polar opposites, but that one observation was not enough to prove the Natianos / Nehalé relation. His eyes saw truth, but they did not speak it to him. He would have to find out for himself.\n\n\"You are trying to undermine him,\" he said.\n\nNatianos' eyebrows went up, as if he were genuinely offended by the accusation. \"Not in the least,\" he said. \"I am merely showing him how duality _works_. If he is to awaken the Mendaihu soul within these people, then I equally _must_ awaken their Shenaihu side. He's gotten it all wrong, you see. He's thinking in terms of polarity. Quite a few people are, really. It seems we're lucky, though...the One of All Sacred seems to understand the truth this time out.\" He paused, laughing to himself. \"Simple misconception, really. Polarity is the belief that there are two sides to a human soul...good and evil, let's say...and that they exist separately. One is inherently this _or_ that, chooses one or the other or has it chosen for them. Duality, on the other hand, is the belief that these two sides coexist symbiotically. One can be this _and_ that.\"\n\nHe turned back to the window. \"Nehalé thinks he's going for a duality, but for what reason?\" he continued. \"Does he think that a cho-nyhndah will nullify the animosity between the two? That is trying to rewrite history, and it makes no sense. He must join with us in peace, if he's going to get anywhere, and that is the only way it can happen. _That_ is what I was trying to tell you on Trisanda, Janoss. The Shenaihu and the Mendaihu are together a duality. One that cannot be abandoned and forgotten again.\"\n\nThe bitter truth hit Janoss hard. He had coordinated the hrrah-sehdhyn yesterday at Natianos' insistence. He had even fought Nehalé himself! Now, with his own words, he was faced with an altogether different reason why the attacks had taken place. Duality? He shivered, and didn't care that Natianos was watching him closely, watching his every action and reaction. Did everything come down to some cosmic game played by some unknown god, perhaps even the One of All Sacred?\n\n\"What about —\" he started.\n\n\"Free will?\" Natianos said, cutting him off. \"Oh, that we still have. Trust me, if we didn't, would you and I be here right now, doing nothing but watching the Rain of Light try to devour the city?\" He let out a small laugh and shook his head. \"Okay, that was uncalled for. But truthfully, Janoss...this is bigger than the freedom of the soul. This is _absolute_ freedom. The reason we're not doing anything right now, is because Nehalé and the One of All Sacred are about to save us from a potential disaster. It's his turn to play now; all we can do is watch.\"\n\nJanoss hid a sickening shiver. He was more confused than ever now; did this mean that there was Mendaihu blood inside his own skin as well? That there was Shenaihu blood inside Nehalé? That he could channel a side of him so bent on the destruction of its twin! And he had tried to do just that at the church yesterday...he had tried to kill Nehalé with his own hands! \"What happens next?\" he said quietly.\n\nHis voice barely reached Natianos, who had moved back to the couches against the far wall. He turned away from the window to see him sitting comfortably in one of the couches, one muscular leg crossed over the other. \"I really do not know,\" Natianos said, throwing his hands up. \"Once we are all awakened... _truly awakened_ , mind you, to the duality...it is up to the One of All Sacred to tell us what we must do next.\"\n\nJanoss remembered that one man...that one Shenaihu who had died early in the fight, when Nehalé had slammed him down into the ground, breaking his neck in the process. That man, whose name he no longer remembered, had spoken within, his voice screaming in vengeance. He had heard him...how could he not? His anger had consumed him, and his voice had carried throughout the place. Anybody who knew to listen within could have heard him. That was why he had returned to meet Nehalé face to face, rather than keep his distance.\n\nKnowing what he knew _now_ , he began to think that attacking the man as he did might not have been the greatest of ideas after all.\n\n_Knowledge is Light_ , he reminded himself, and took a seat on the second couch. _Learn from your mistakes._ He contemplated saying something to Natianos...but could not find any useful words at that moment. Whatever was done was done. He would have to make peace with his actions. Despite all that he was and everything he believed in, fate was completely in Mendaihu hands now.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-SIX\n\n_Faith_\n\nAnton glared at the man on the vidmat screen who'd stopped talking to him ten minutes ago. \"You still haven't told me why you're here,\" he said.\n\n\"In time, Governor,\" the Vigil said distractedly, shooting a side glance his way as he tapped away at an unseen keyboard. \"In time.\"\n\nAnton dug his fingernails into his palms. This punk kid from Vigil had not only frozen his link with his Special Forces troops, but had also frozen any other link to the outside. He couldn't even raise a link to his secretary just outside. Again he thought of reaching out to Shirai, and again decided against it. There was just too much of a chance she could be corrupted, and Goddess knew what would happen then.\n\n\"Keep in mind, there are ways we can work around our situation,\" the Vigil said. \"I've already told you what could happen. The choice is yours. What I do suggest, however, is that you tell those people of yours not to advance. I know that was your intent — I only need to ensure you make good on it.\"\n\nHe glanced at Nandahya. She only shrugged in response. \"And once I do that?\" he grumbled.\n\nThe Vigil smiled at him. \"Once you do that, you can give yourself a congratulatory pat on the back for not putting millions of civilians in harm's way once the Rain clears away, and you end up being one of Bridgetown's best-loved Governors in the process.\"\n\n\"Comforting,\" he said flatly.\n\n\"It had better be comforting,\" the kid said gravely. \"If I were to let you wreak havoc under an unstable Rain of Light, there's a good chance you would be looking at a death toll of at least half the city, Governor. Here, let me show you what I'm talking about.\" He and Nandahya were both startled by the sudden appearance of a hologram covering the entire desk surface. It was a low-res image of the Bridgetown Sprawl, from the Crest all the way down to Sachers Island and a little beyond. \"This is what is happening right now. Here's the Rain of Light...\" Another few keystrokes and a transparent orange haze of clouds covered most of the city. It covered the entirety of the Sprawl, with only the Crest and the upper half of the Mirades Tower reaching above it. \"And here's what's going to happen, if everything goes as planned. This is sped up, but the Cleansing ritual itself lasts about a half hour.\"\n\nSomewhere close to Moulding Warehouse, a tiny pinprick of light flashed on and off. Nandahya pointed out the second flashing point of light closer to the ocean's edge. After a few moments the cloud-matrix began dissipating, drawn towards the inland light until the sky was once again clear. The two pulses of light slowed until they two finally disappeared.\n\n\"Wait for it,\" the Vigil said.\n\nSeconds later, the hologram buzzed and twitched, building in intensity until the entire image burst into bright light. And just as quickly as it had appeared, it died away, leaving the hologram city once again in peace.\n\n\"What the hell was that?\" Anton said, his voice just above a whisper. His heart beat hard and quick in his chest. He'd read and remembered Shirai's initial report, but until this very moment he hadn't realized just how right she'd been. What the hell was going on in his city...?\n\n\"That is an energy dump,\" the Vigil answered with an added level of fascination. \"A ritual takes up all the excess energy in the Rain of Light you're seeing out there, and grounding it. If I'm not mistaken, that's a Benjamin's Key they're using. Quite impressive. I didn't know they were still around.\"\n\nAnton exhaled, dreading his next question. He had to know. \"And if things don't go according to plan?\"\n\n\"Well...\" he paused, frowning deeply.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nHe nodded, tapped again at the unseen keyboard, and looked at him. \"Don't say I didn't warn you.\" He capped his words with the loud solitary _clack_ of a keystroke.\n\nThere were no two points of light this time. The clouds remained. Golden arrows, denoting his own forces, moved towards the various parts of the city where action had been reported over the last hour, as well as towards the warehouse. Arrows turned to dots as each point became secure and closed down. Everything seemed to go smoothly through the haze of the clouds.\n\n\"So my teams take over,\" Anton said. \"I don't see anything happening.\"\n\n\"That was the first two hours, sir,\" he said. \"This is what happens ten hours later, when the Rain keeps charging itself up with energy.\" The cloud-matrix grew thicker, heavier, until the entirety of the city had become obliterated by an inky darkness. It became a storm cloud of immense size and power, eventually growing higher and higher until even the tip of the Mirades Tower had been swallowed up. He could see the arcs of light again, and other makings of a tremendously violent hurricane. \"Ten hours later, Governor. Winds have reached catastrophic speeds just within the area covered by the Rain. Most of the city is now under the throes of the worst natural and supernatural disaster it has ever faced. Buildings are demolished...millions of people die...spirits consume themselves, fueling the Rain more and more...but it gets worse.\"\n\nAnton shivered. \"Worse?\"\n\n\"Much worse, sir,\" he said. \"The energy just keeps building, literally siphoning the life force out of those who've survived thus far. Eventually the Tower itself is destroyed. Until...\"\n\nAnother white flash of light appeared within the darkness and just as quickly, expanded. And, just as quickly, faded into nothingness. This time leaving the entirety of Bridgetown a barren, cratered wasteland.\n\nAnton felt bile rising in his throat.\n\n\"That is what happens if you let your teams take over, Governor.\" He smiled apologetically. \"Believe me when I tell you, sir. I don't normally agree with everything you say or do, but on this one thing I am on the same side as you. I only wish to serve and protect the citizens of Bridgetown. Let whoever is using the Benjamin's Key do what they have to do.\"\n\nAnton sat silently, staring at the hologram of a decimated city. No one had ever seen such devastation since the nuclear uprisings over three hundred years ago. He had seen data on it himself, and this low-res holo was a far cry from those disquieting files...yet this was his city. He could not let that happen. As much as he hated to admit it, he could not ignore the warnings of Vigil in this instance, jacker punks or not. It had been his plan all along not to move in...but now he had reason to doubt these team leaders.\n\n\"So what do I do now?\" Anton said, fatigue creeping into his voice.\n\n\"Now...\" the Vigil said, and paused to think. \"Now, we wait.\"\n\nAnton groaned. \"Wait? We don't have the damn time to —\"\n\n\"Yes, Governor,\" he growled at him. \"We do have time. Have patience.\"\n\nHe opened his mouth to say something else, thought better of it, and let out a breath of resignation. He glanced at Nandahya but she did not respond, only catching his gaze for a moment, before distractedly looking back down at the screen in front of her.\n\n\"Fine,\" he said, closing his eyes.\n\n*\n\nCaren stood on McCleever Street four long blocks away from her sister, and despite her conviction she could not help thinking she would never see her again. She'd fought with that inner demon constantly, but never was it as strong as it was now. As she stood under the archway of the apartment building, waiting for Poe to contact her again, she arched her neck and looked up towards the warehouse. Streetlights illuminated its concrete and corrugated metal a warm pale yellow-green, making its appearance somewhat forgettable, were it not for the fact that the darkest of clouds hovered less than a few thousand feet above it. A dark, painful loneliness hung over her own head, as if in her heart and in her mind she had already accepted Denni's departure.\n\nDenni hadn't died or been harmed, she was quite certain of that. She could still feel her presence among the chaos that swelled within those four walls. Or rather, she had sensed her physically returning to the warehouse ten minutes ago, where she previously had only felt a lingering thread, a hint of consciousness tethered to a distance much farther away. Had she stepped into Light? Where had she gone for that last half hour? She could feel a lingering chaos within the warehouse as well...what had happened? Caren growled in frustration as once again she became all too aware that she had not yet come to terms with her sister being a goddess...every disappearance, however temporary, still hit her squarely in the gut. It was the reason she'd decided to split from her partner and make her way back to the warehouse.\n\nPoe knew more about the One of All Sacred than anyone else on her ARU team. She'd often wondered what powers the One may have...and how he or she would use them. The Awakened had been under the rule of eight previous Dearest. They all followed the One of All Sacred to varying degrees, some with devout conviction while others regarded her as little more than a spiritual presence taken for granted.\n\nWould Denni be any different?\n\nCaren's commlink, clipped to the epaulet of her overcoat, crackled with static. \"Poe to CJ, you read?\"\n\nShe tensed up instinctively, and forced herself to shake it off. \"CJ here, go ahead,\" she responded.\n\nMore static filtered through, this time followed by the _bzzzzzt_ of a stray lightning charge disrupting the bandwidth; she saw the white flash of light somewhere to her left. Three seconds later she heard the thunderclap rumbling down the street towards her. Less than a mile away.\n\nPoe held for a few seconds before responding again, but his voice cut out under another bolt of lightning, followed by the thunder four seconds later. Farther away, but still dangerously close.\n\n\"Unheard, Poe,\" she responded. \"Repeat.\"\n\nHe started again, his voice clearer this time. \"Are you still on McCleever?\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" she answered, and stepped out onto the sidewalk, the chilling wind pushing at her face. \"Just getting out of harm's way at the moment. I don't trust that lightning.\"\n\n\"Get as close to the warehouse as possible,\" he said. \"Inside if you can, that's the safest place for you. I'm almost at Christine's place...if we're going to pull this off, we're going to need a Benjamin's Key.\"\n\nCaren blinked. \"You have got to be kidding me,\" she said, more to herself than to Poe. \"I thought those were outlawed after the Seventh Embodiment.\"\n\n\"Unsanctioned use, yes,\" he said. \"She's got a license for it.\"\n\n\"Are you sure it'll work?\" she asked, laughing despite her misgivings. \"That's a pretty small grounding wire for a damn huge storm.\"\n\n\"Well...we'll find out,\" he said.\n\n\"Here's to faith,\" she said. \"Good luck, Alec. Hope to see you soon.\"\n\nc _rrrrrrraaaaakkkk--_\n\nCaren cursed and jumped back into the archway as a lightning bolt came searing down into the middle of the street. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw it hit not a hundred feet away. For a brief moment she felt the tingling of electric energy shooting through her nervous system and fell backwards, slamming up against the heavy wooden front door. She blindly grabbed at the concrete railing and slid down onto it, gasping for air.\n\nWith a sudden rumbling _whoosh_ a wall of heavy rain and wind pushed its way down the street towards her, turning everything a dark gray. Within seconds the downpour was on top of her, drenching everything and everyone in sight. Caren cursed again, hiked up the collar of her uniform, and despite her still spinning head, began to run towards the warehouse. She only had a few more blocks to go. She was instantly waterlogged, cold and miserable as soon as she'd stepped out from the stoop, and the fright of the close lightning strike had made her temporarily forget where exactly she needed to be. Once at the end of the block she darted across the street and continued up McCleever, towards the warehouse.\n\n\"You okay, Caren?\" she heard from her commlink. \"Thought that one hit you.\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" she said as she ran. \"I'm getting drenched here, Poe, but otherwise all is well. Thanks for the concern.\" She hadn't meant that to sound so sarcastic, but it seemed to amuse him. \"Coming up on Holgate, about two blocks ahead.\" She slowed to a jog, then to a brisk walk until she came to a long row of restaurant awnings. Crowds packed themselves in below them, and it wasn't until she hit the third one that she managed to find a spot to catch her breath.\n\n\"Damn, Poe,\" she huffed. \"Had I known, I would have worked out before doing this marathon.\"\n\nPoe's laugh came over the static. \"Where are you now?\"\n\n\"DiTaranto's Ristorante,\" she said, craning her neck to read the sign in the window. \"You know, I've always wanted to go here. I hear they make great calzones.\"\n\nPoe waited a few seconds before responding. \"Hey,\" he said.\n\nExasperated, she huffed quietly. \"Yes, Alec, what is it?\"\n\n\"Last chance, kid. You sure this is what you want?\"\n\nShe smirked despite her annoyance. \"Forget it. Give me five minutes to get my bearings and I'm off. There's no talking me out of this. Denni's in there, Poe. I can't leave her alone. If I'm walking into my own death sentence, so be it. As long as I did it trying to protect her.\"\n\n\"I see your point, Caren, but...\" he trailed off.\n\n\"But what?\"\n\nHe stuttered, started to say something, and released the comm.\n\n\"Yeah, I know,\" she smiled. Goddess, she was one damn lucky girl to have him as a partner. \"Don't worry, Alec. Drinks on me tomorrow at Yoshi's, okay?\"\n\n\"I'm there,\" he said. \"Good luck, Caren. Tell Den I said hi.\"\n\n\"Heh. Sure thing.\"\n\nCaren let go of the commlink, looked up the street at the warehouse, and contemplated her next move.\n\n*\n\nSculler's Crossing had always been a marketplace bustling with shoppers and tourists and vendors, but now it had become a cold and desolate crime scene. Kai and Ashan walked briskly past the southern entrance, a tall and elaborately carved marble archway beckoning locals and tourists alike onto its brightly set walkways. The attack had occurred three blocks in, close to the southern food courts and well out of view of the main street, but the resulting violence had deeply affected the marketplace. Kai sent out a thin sliver of energy down the deserted alleyway. She felt the lingering terror and pain, too close and sharp, and quickly retracted her Mendaihu senses. Ashan met her eyes but said nothing. He didn't have to, his scowl said it all. He'd felt it just as deeply as she had.\n\nMuch like the attack at St. Patrick's, it had been a cold, calculated move against the Mendaihu in the area by a violent nuhm'ndah mob. They had also been indiscriminate in choosing their targets here, killing twenty-three civilians in the process before Sentinels had arrived. This had been a smaller attack aimed at no certain person in particular, and smaller than at the church, yet it had claimed the most lives. It was heartbreaking...Kai could only hope the healing would come soon.\n\nAshan had turned away and was looking further up the street. The normally congested intersection of McCleever and Northern Avenue was eerily empty. \"We can go anywhere past here,\" he said, pointing at the six-lane cross street. \"Then we'll be out of the hrrah-sehdhyn. The coast is five blocks on.\"\n\nKai checked her watch. They certainly had enough time to get on the other side of the avenue, but any farther than that would be pushing the timeframe they had set up. She motioned ahead and continued walking. She didn't say anything to her brother, but she still felt that swell of fear she'd sensed moments ago, a fear that would stay there for some time despite the healing. She felt the pain of the loss, and the anger of the survivors and loved ones.\n\n\"We have twenty minutes,\" she said. \"One street past Northern is fine. We need a perch, though.\" That had been in the back of her mind, ever since Alec had suggested it. In order to channel whatever excess energy and Light that might spill out of the Warehouse once they harnessed the Rain of Light, there was a chance they'd have to deflect it elsewhere, anywhere, in case the Benjamin Key would not be able to ground it. This would require at least a few minutes for them to access the tallest building they could find in the vicinity so they could direct it out into the ocean. Most of the offices and apartments past Northern Avenue were evenly built and no taller than six stories, and she hoped that would not present a problem. They would then need another few minutes to prepare themselves as Soulhealers. They would have a window of, at most, five minutes in which to contact Caren and Alec before anything else.\n\nKai noticed with interest that in the hundred yards they walked from the gate to Sculler's Crossing to Northern Avenue, the unspoken sense of fear she'd felt had dropped away considerably. There had been a sudden release of tension in her shoulders and temples that she hadn't noticed until that moment. Ashan had sensed it as well, looking over his shoulder.\n\n_Did you feel that?_ she asked.\n\nAshan nodded, his worry giving way to curiosity. _It's like...a barrier._\n\nShe looked back herself. Surely she wouldn't be able to see anything...? But there they were, dark shadows falling across the sidewalk they had just traveled down, fading into light just a few yards away. She dismissed her thoughts just as quickly, knowing that made no sense. They were on the edge of the storm cloud, the late afternoon sun peeking just past the edge. She looked up into the sky, confirming the much more logical reason. The shadows along the sidewalk were just that, nothing more. Unless...\n\n\"The hrrah-sehdhyn,\" Ashan said, mirroring her next thought.\n\nShe closed her eyes and sensed. She dared not use her Lightseeing, not after her brother had been nearly blinded looking directly at the Rain of Light. But standing this close, she did not need to see, because the difference in energies between where they had been and where they stood now was unnervingly stark. She could almost visualize a demarcation line cutting across the street. _It is no longer cold_ , she said within. _I no longer feel the dread, the anger...the pain. You're right, Ashan. It is a barrier. It's keeping the pain within. It's gathering...which means...!_\n\nShe hid a gasp, turning away from him before he could notice. \"We have little time,\" she said quickly, hiding her sudden wave of fear, and turned back ahead. She didn't want to say anything, not right now. But they needed to get in position right away, before it was too late. They ran quickly to the end of the block and weighed the options in front of them. Ashan pointed to an eight story office tower a block and a half away. She nodded, already heading that way. \"Can you sense Alec and Caren?\" she asked.\n\n\"Checked in on them a few minutes ago,\" he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. \"Caren's close. _Too_ close. Alec's four blocks south.\"\n\nIt took Kai a moment to catch what he'd meant. \"They split up?\"\n\nAshan shook his head. \"Call it fate. Maybe she was meant to be at the warehouse...to be with Denni after all.\"\n\nThere was nothing she could do or say to that. It was too late to adjust their plans. They had to make their way up to the roof of this building in the next few minutes and prepare themselves for whatever Alec threw at them. She had little worry in Alec keeping his part of the plan, she knew that much. He was making his way to the apartment of the former ARU agent they spoke of at the Crest, and presumably she was to be their Diviner. As for Caren...\n\nGoddess...she'd never been able to accurately read her, so she had no idea what could happen with her. She held herself so close, so guarded, that no one had been able to pinpoint her true self. Not even Alec fully understood what she might be within. She felt a stab in her heart every time she thought of her like this. She could only hope...\n\n_Peace, Love and Light, Karinna,_ she said within, hoping she heard.\n\n*\n\nPeace, Love and Light, Karinna.\n\nThe voice stopped her in her tracks and sent a shiver down her spine. She managed to stumble under another awning before she realized it was not Denni who had spoken, but Kai. She had just blessed her...what had she done? Was there not enough time? She glanced at her watch; she had another ten minutes to reach the warehouse, only two blocks away. She had more than enough time. She'd make it there in five. She'd spoken with Ashan on her comm right after she'd finished talking with Poe, and had shown little concern aside from making sure this insane plan actually worked. Why had Kai blessed her...?\n\nThe question quickly faded from her thoughts when she saw the lone man standing under the next store awning, fifteen feet away. He was young with long dirty blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail, and his features were plain. He looked to be somewhere in his early to mid-twenties. He was taller than her by about five or six inches, but his build made him look shorter than he actually was. He was standing there, humming to himself and holding two large umbrellas. One he had open and held aloft, the other closed and pointing down, the tip resting on the toe of his right boot. He twirled the handle of the second umbrella around, mindlessly playing a balancing game with it. He seemed to be off in his own little world despite the chaos unraveling around him. Eventually he looked up, straight into Caren's eyes.\n\nThe effect was instantaneous. She stared right back at the young man and caught her breath. She knew him intimately. Goddess, she knew this young man as if they'd been friends and lovers for years! Her brain refused to believe at first, but her heart immediately knew. It was the exact same connection she'd made with all those people she knew she'd never met before on Trisanda. And this was the man who had brought her there, in that dream. A dream that had only been days previous, yet seemed so long ago...\n\nHe was a connection. An anchor. _Her_ anchor. Yes, that was it. _You're..._\n\nHe smiled at her.\n\n_A...Anando?_ she said within.\n\nHis eyes. His eyes were magnificent shade of brown, warm and inviting. He had willingly opened up a portal to his soul to her, reaching out with gossamer tendrils that reached straight through the thickest, most impenetrable wall she had built within herself. No one, not even Poe or Denni, or even her parents, had been able to tear that wall down so easily. His spirit touch felt so... _alien_ , yet so familiar.\n\nSo familiar...\n\n_Anando,_ she said again.\n\nHis spirit touch felt like _love_. An uncompromising love that went beyond anything she'd felt ever in her life. It was beyond family, beyond physical and emotional. It was _pure_.\n\n\" _Somfei cho-shadhisi eilee_ ,\" he said. _Hello, my dearest love._\n\nCaren stared at him, mouth open but no words coming out, but every single wall of defense she'd ever built in her life came crumbling down all at once. Years of anger and frustration at the world...years of physical and emotional pain she'd endured...the hurt and sadness of the loss of her parents, the terror that she'd lose her sister. She felt another shudder as he nodded, a nervous giggle escaping his lips. It was the simple lopsided smile of youth and the loving glance of someone she'd known throughout all her lifetimes, who had always been there for her. And would be forever more.\n\n_Lifetimes..._ she thought. She knew him from some other life, some other time, some other _universe_...it made no sense! No one ever fell in love — no one ever _knew_ love this easily! This could not be possible. And yet at this very moment, they were standing a half-block away from her little sister...the most holy and revered One of All Sacred, the one who would save the worlds and protect them from harm. Maybe it could happen...? Her mind reeled. She felt some deeper connection with Anando, some unexplainable attraction that went beyond physical and emotional. She was so sure of this connection she dared not question it. She was Mendaihu, and her spirit had never lied to her. And at this very moment, it _sang_.\n\n_Somfei Anando...cho-shadhisi eilee_ , she said. Cho-shadhisi...he had used 'twin' in his Anjshé. Not dearest love, but soul mate. And she had answered the same, knowing it to be the truest thing she'd ever spoken. His smile widened, his dark eyes looking down on her with such a radiant love she found herself shivering.\n\n_I..._ she started.\n\n_No need to explain, dearest Karinna_ , he answered. _I understand._\n\nHe held out the opened umbrella to her, covering the gap between the two awnings. Wordlessly she took it, her hand brushing up against his. She walked out from under her own awning, under the umbrella, and immediately into his awaiting arms.\n\nShe felt her own spirit dance...gossamer tendrils of her own making, slowly rising from the shell that she had kept closed all this time. It was the spirit dance of one who has found pure peace within and with others...and she had found it, at long last. The source of this peace was so mundane, so unexpected she had reason to doubt it. Surely there was more to love and inner peace than this! Still in his arms, she gazed up into his eyes and into his soul. A soul that so perfectly complemented hers, though she still could not imagine how.\n\n\"Goddess...\" she said, her voice but a whisper.\n\n_Anando...lifetimes have passed. I have forgotten it all..._ She held him as tightly as she could, not daring to let go. She felt tears welling up and forced herself not to show them. _I wish I could remember!_\n\nWith a flick of his wrist, he opened up his own umbrella and directed her towards the warehouse. _We will have all the time we need to rekindle those memories,_ he said within. _Come. Denysia needs you now more than ever._\n\nShe nodded silently, wrapped an arm around him and walked with him the rest of the way. Their link was forever, that much she remembered. If she had to wait a day, a month, another _eternity_ to bring back those memories, so be it. For now she rejoiced in knowing she would soon be with two of the small handful of people she loved more deeply than anyone and anything else in the universe. And together, they would protect Earth.\n\n_Mendaihu Gharra,_ she thought. _I shall protect the Earth._\n\n_And I shall be there beside you,_ he answered.\n\n*\n\n\"Poe to CJ, do you copy? Where the hell are you?\"\n\nPoe cursed after calling her name for the third time. He stood outside the storefront on Haden Street, under the awning, holding the comm up high and swiveling in place in the distant hope that her lack of response was actually a bad satellite connection. He tried once more to no avail and gave up, reclipping the comm to his jacket. He stepped into the small storefront office, sparsely decorated with office furniture and exactly one large painting of the Bridgetown skyline, and knocked on the doorframe as he passed it. \"Hello?\" he called out.\n\n\"She has found another way,\" Christine said, stepping out from behind a beaded curtain that hung across the wide arch of the back hallway. \"She will dispel these inner demons with and without your help. Make no mistake: you are still important to her. There is nothing personal in her decision.\"\n\n\"Hello to you too,\" Poe said, smiling at her. \"Goddess, it's great to see you again, Chris.\" She stood at the doorway, white towel in hands, briskly drying her rain-drenched blond curls. She looked at him with stunning blue eyes, one brow arched higher than the other in amusement. Poe's pulse quickened as he saw her, and remembered all too clearly how beautiful she was.\n\n\"Alec Poe,\" she nodded. \"Just the person I've been looking for.\"\n\n\"It's been too long,\" he said, and gave her a tight hug. \"Listen — we've got an emergency, and I need your help. We have about ten minutes to kickstart a Gathering using a Benjamin's Key. You up for it?\"\n\nChristine burst out laughing and pushed him away. \"Are you kidding? Is that what you came up with?\"\n\nPoe winced, and pointed upwards with his thumb. \"Best we could, given the situation. The weather is going nuts out there, and it's not slowing down. You were the first person I thought of, plus I heard you were looking for me. We have two Mendaihu as grounders out on Northern Avenue if we need to redirect.\"\n\nHer amusement died a quick death and she glared at him. \"You aren't kidding.\" She studied him for a moment, thin arms crossed in front of her. A moment later she turned and retreated to the back of the store again. \"Hold on a second.\"\n\nImmediately Poe felt guilty. This was a woman he hadn't talked to for over six months, since she took a well-deserved break from soul divining. He could have come over to visit her at any time, and yet it hadn't occurred to him. And here he was, throwing a life-threatening emergency at her as if it was nothing.\n\nA moment later she returned wearing a black B-Town Saints ball cap and a dark green overcoat and carrying a large briefcase, which she pushed into his arms. She smiled at him as if she hadn't minded his sudden rush; in fact, she looked as if she was looking forward to it. She closed and locked her office, and led him to a rear stairwell. She bounded up the stairs so quickly that Poe nearly had to run in order to catch up.\n\n\"So what are we looking at?\" she asked over her shoulder.\n\n\"The Rain of Light,\" Poe wheezed. \"Pashyo, will you slow down? You know I still smoke.\"\n\nThat elicited a laugh from her. \"Then quit, Alec. Rain, huh? Sounds like corruption. Anyone I know cause it?\"\n\nThis time Poe laughed, though his was laced with a bitter taste. \"Haven't you been watching the news, Christine? This is a spiritual war we're fighting here. That thing was awakened by a Mendaihu and corrupted by a nuhm'ndah.\"\n\n\"I know,\" she kidded. \"Just wanted to make sure _you_ were up on things.\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"Knew I could count on you.\"\n\n\"Damn straight.\" She rounded the last flight of stairs and stopped just short of the roof access door, waiting for Poe to catch up. She placed her hand on it, but did not push it open. \"Let's get one thing straight, Alec,\" she said, not facing him. \"Any other Agent, any other day, I wouldn't think twice about kicking their sorry ass back out the door. You...\" She took a deep breath, then another. \"You're like an older brother to me, Alec. I can't forget that.\" Finally, summoning up her courage, she turned and flashed a forced grin at him. \"Besides...I kind of figured you'd be looking for me anyway. Consider me hired. Adjust your collar and let's go.\"\n\nShe gave the door a much harder kick than expected, and they were met with a wall of icy rain pounding directly upon them. They both yelped and shielded their eyes as they crossed the roof towards a small wooden shed set up near the rear of the building. She fumbled with her keys, unlocked the door and pushed Poe in.\n\n\"You are invited,\" she said, waving a hand around the shed. \"I do most of my spells, rituals, and healings up here now. Put the case near that floor latch.\"\n\n\"I remember this place,\" he said. It was once a bare room with very little in the way of comfort, though comfort was not always a concern when she did spiritual work. Now there were several throw pillows on which to kneel, a kotatsu for gathering circles, a supply of candles and incense, and a tiny refrigerator in the corner for refreshment. The room looked well used. In the months since she'd left the ARU, she'd done well.\n\nChristine opened the briefcase and pulled out a sturdy leaden hoop shaped in wide oval. It had no ornamental carvings or meaningful symbols inlaid on it, nor did it have any intricately placed objects reaching to the heavens. It was a simple, dark-colored, egg-shaped hoop. She had him fasten a heavy rod into the base of the hoop while she held it in place. Lastly she opened up a roof hatch, and together they stuck the artifact through to the outside and secured a weighted stand at the base, and secured it into the notch in the floor.\n\nThe Benjamin's Key stood before them, twelve feet high and completely uninspiring. Poe had only seen one once before, and that had been in the artifacts library of ARU Headquarters. It seemed like an ordinary scepter, and to an untrained eye it would have been little more than a curious conversation piece. Its true power, however, lay within its wielder. It was a conductor of spiritual energy that needed to be drained as quickly as possible. Such energy was usually unstable, chaotic and in such vast quantity that only the best of wielders were physically and psychically strong enough to withstand it. The misbegotten name had come from an old pre-Landing myth of a provincial forefather experimenting with energy using lightning and a key, and it had stuck over time.\n\nSatisfied, Poe reached out to Kai and Ashan over his comm to let them know everything was set on his end...and added with some trepidation that Caren had returned to the warehouse. The news was met more with curiosity than with worry.\n\n\"Perhaps it is better she's there with her,\" Kai suggested. \"If anything happens...\" She herself did not want to finish her words, the same Poe had thought but had dared not say. The silence hung for what seemed too long a time. \"Ashan and I will start the ritual,\" she said finally, her voice cold. \"Christine can activate the Key whenever she feels ready.\"\n\n\"I'll be here as well,\" he said, and held the commlink away from him for the moment. \"We do this together.\"\n\n\"You don't have the knowledge or the experience,\" she said.\n\n\"I have the faith,\" he said, giving her an impish smile.\n\nThe comment made her laugh, and she nodded approval. \"Yes,\" she said, \"that you do, Alec. In abundance. Tell Kai to give us ten more minutes so I can give you a crash course.\"\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN\n\n_Revelation_\n\nIn the span of twenty-four hours, Denni had gone from protected little sister and recently awakened Mendaihu to the world-revered One of All Sacred. She had gone from Earth to Trisanda and back in under an hour. She'd figured out how to control Nehalé's ritual almost as soon as she'd seen its reach from space. She'd returned to the warehouse with the ability to calm the emotions of everyone within. She suddenly had a claim to such a vast amount of knowledge it could not be measured; a knowledge she couldn't completely fathom, yet she could access it with ease, and understand it instantly once within her grasp. She could do so many impossible things with her newfound power she feared she was losing focus. She ran on Mendaihu instinct as much as possible, and thanked Caren profusely for giving her reason to trust it.\n\nAnd now Caren was here. Thank the Goddess, her sister had come!\n\nLed by Anando, Caren entered through one of the bay doors with her eyes wide. She'd expected a gathering, but nothing this large...and luckily, she had come after the crowd had calmed again. Denni could sense her from across the room...her whole spirit shimmered with equal parts confusion and awe, but when Caren finally found her standing at the top of the mezzanine stairs, that confusion turned to such a powerful love and relief that Denni nearly lost her footing. She giggled in delight, never having felt such a strong energy from her, and bounded down the stairs to meet her. She darted past the throng of people who were making way for her as quickly as they could, and finally crashed into Caren's awaiting arms.\n\n_Oh Denysia..._ Caren spoke from within, her arms wrapped tightly around her. _You wouldn't believe how much I love you right now..._\n\nShe sank into her sister's embrace, remembering the countless times she had done so before when she was younger, smaller, and not yet awakened. She could feel her own spirit intertwining with Caren's, forever bound.\n\n_Karinna,_ she said. _My one constant. My anchor._\n\nCaren looked down at her quizzically but with a sense of amusement. In their lives together, Caren had constantly told her of her personal troubles and how constantly chaotic her own life was. But to Denni it was Caren's unending pursuit of that perfect inner peace that drove Denni herself to achieve it for the both of them. She knew this was not out of the many psychic gifts she now found herself with. This was from within her heart.\n\n\"Poe is setting up a Benjamin's Key a few blocks from here,\" Caren said out loud, not only for her sake but for others to hear as well. \"I believe they'll be ready within the next fifteen to twenty minutes whenever you want to start the cleansing.\"\n\nDenni gaped at her. \"How did you know...?\"\n\n\"As soon as I saw Anando, I understood,\" she said, and blushed. Blushed! Caren never did that! \"As much as it pains me not to dig into past lives in order to remember where I've met Anando before...\" Caren turned to Anando and gave him a knowing smile. Denni stole a glance at the young man she had seen floating throughout the place an hour before. How had she not recognized his signature before now? \"I had to figure out how everyone fit in,\" Caren continued. \"We were all wrong from the beginning...we all thought it was chaos out there, that Rain of Light, an aftereffect of edha Usarai's ritual and the hrrah-sehdhyn, but that wasn't it at all — it was there for a reason. It wasn't chaos, but a gathering of spirits. I knew a cleansing was coming as soon as I saw Anando, because he was there for me, to guide me back to you. Every action had a reason, Denni. There was no chaos at all. And it all fell into place at that moment.\"\n\n\"Like things finally made sense,\" Denni said, more to herself than to Caren.\n\n\"And about damned time,\" she groaned. \"When Kindeiya Shalei contacted us, he said that you'd be down at the warehouse by four. Why the warehouse? And why so many Mendaihu and Shenaihu jammed into one large place? Then it hit me: the reason I couldn't sense the Rain was because I was expecting to feel _Mendaihu_ souls up there...of which there are very little. Isn't that right, Nehalé?\"\n\nDenni looked over her shoulder. Nehalé, who had kept his distance, now stepped forward to join the conversation. \"That is correct, emha Johnson,\" he said evenly. They both stared at each other for a long and uncomfortable moment, she with the cold professionalism of her duty, and he with what seemed to be both wariness and pity. For that long moment, Denni dared not breathe. This one moment decided the fate of more than just her duty or his achievement in the Awakening.\n\nSlowly and deliberately, Caren let out a long breath, yet never taking her eyes off of him. \"Kindeiya knew about the Rain of Light being mostly Shenaihu spirits,\" she said coldly. \"So did you. You planned on equalizing it once you had a fair number of Mendaihu and Shenaihu here in this warehouse. Using the polarities to what, cancel each other out?\"\n\nNehalé smirked. \"No...not entirely. Many have thought that was my only motive. I was trying to disperse them, and in the process, increase the flow of Light.\"\n\nDenni frowned. \"Then why awaken me? Why did you need me, as the One?\"\n\nHe looked down at her with kind eyes and a reverent smile. \"To be honest...\" he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Caren stiffened, but restrained herself from doing anything. \"My Dearest One, originally to awaken you was not part of the plan at all. Mind you, that was years ago.\" He glanced quickly at Caren. \"Many years ago, emha Johnson, before either of you knew or understood what you are now. And please, nyhnd'aladh, I say this with nothing but reverence to them...but Kindeiya Shalei knew that Denysia here was the One of All Sacred when your parents sacrificed themselves to protect the two of you. He never told me it was your sister...only that she was here, and being protected by Cheylan and Aaramis Shalei.\"\n\nSurprisingly Caren did not lash out. \"So...\" she said, and bit her lip. She crossed her arms and moved closer in, much closer than comfortable. Denni saw it purely as a protective move. In the small time she had known Nehalé, however, she had learned and eventually understood his motives for what he had done. His plans may not have been executed perfectly, but in the end...\n\n...in the end, he had performed miracles, and had protected them all along.\n\n\"So,\" Caren said again. \"You disperse the Shenaihu souls throughout the city...why? Were you planning another attack on a church? Saint Paul's up the street, perhaps?\"\n\n\"I planned no such thing,\" he said as evenly as he could without showing he'd been offended by the implication. \"That...\" He cleared his throat, and continued in a softer voice. \"That was an unfortunate backlash of the Awakening...one that had been exploited by Natianos Lehanna. I'm sure you know who and what he is by now...\"\n\n\"Yes...\" Caren said, her voice as low as his. \"Yes, I do.\"\n\nNehalé had said Natianos' name so disdainfully that Denni almost hadn't made the connection. _Saone Lehanna_ , she thought to herself. The girl she had run into not a half hour ago. If Natianos had been behind the hrrah-sehdhyn, then Saone had either come to stop the Gathering...or had hoped to take part in it. She felt the pang of heartache when she thought of Saone and Kryssyna running away amidst the craziness that had erupted so soon after...they felt they'd been chased away from a chance of real peace.\n\n\"Natianos believes he has the upper hand,\" Nehalé continued. \"He truly believes that the Shenaihu will prevail, once the Cleansing commences. I am doing all I can to keep that from happening, and at the same time ensure the Mendaihu will not be the overriding power, either.\n\n\"In answer to your question the Cleansing would, in broad terms, let the souls within the Rain of Light disperse themselves throughout the city, perhaps even beyond the limits of the Sprawl. The result would be...well, a bit like your partner.\"\n\nCaren frowned. \"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Nehalé is one of the strongest Soulsensers in this hemisphere,\" Denni said. \"He might not have known it was me, but he found me as the One of All Sacred, when he performed the Awakening ritual. I'd give him the benefit of the doubt.\"\n\nCaren glared at both of them, first at her own sister's audacity, then at Nehalé's intrusiveness. She waved her hand frantically in front of her. \"What does that have to do with Alec Poe?\"\n\n\"Everything,\" he said. \"He is _cho-nyhndah_ , the twin spirits. He has both Shenaihu and Mendaihu in him.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\nNehalé reached out a hand to touch Caren on the shoulder. She flinched, about to jerk away and out of his grasp, but thought better of it and let him do so. \"The cho-nyhndah is extremely rare, emha. He is the _pure_ soul. The completeness of the Trisandi life thread that so many ancestors have wished for. It is not hereditary by blood, but by spirit. By releasing the Rain of Light...many of the souls within would merge with the souls of those willing to participate, becoming cho-nyhndah themselves.\"\n\nCaren stared long and hard at him. \"Who gives you that right?\" she asked. \"Who gives anyone the right to do that?\"\n\nNehalé sighed, dropping his head. \"You misunderstand, Karinna,\" he said. \"I am not forcing anyone to do anything at all. I have merely given everyone a chance to make their own decision without influence or ignorance. Just as I have awakened your sister as the One of All Sacred so she may guide us.\"\n\n\"And yet...\" she said, moving closer to him with an icy hatred in her eyes. \"Did you give Denni a fucking choice at all?\"\n\nBut Denni was too quick. \"Caren, don't,\" she said quietly, taking Caren's hand and holding it tight. \"Please...it's okay. You don't have to do this.\"\n\n\"I can't forgive him, Den,\" she said, her voice frail and cracking. \"I cannot forgive him for what he did to you.\"\n\nOutside, they all heard the low rumble of thunder.\n\n\"No, Caren. Please, it was my own choice as well! Don't do this!\"\n\n\"Do you realize what you've done, Nehalé?\" she spat. \"Do you realize what you've done to this city? My city? Are you aware of how many people you've affected?\"\n\n\"Caren!\"\n\n\"Karinna...\" Nehalé said unevenly, and took a safe step backwards. \"Believe me, I am fully aware —\"\n\n\"Bullshit you are!\" she screamed. \"Do you even see or sense what you've unleashed out there?\"\n\n\"Caren, please!\"\n\nThe air split open with a deafening crack. The sudden jolt of electricity surged through the crowd, knocking dozens off their feet, and Denni instinctively lifted her arms up to shield herself. She tasted the pungent smell of sweat and smoke, and suddenly she felt the surge hit her right leg and travel upwards. A tiny spark of Light shot out of her uplifted hand. She felt her knees give out from under from her, the room shifting sickeningly to her left.\n\nTo her right, Caren had already fallen to the floor in a dead faint.\n\n*\n\n... _Karinna? Sis? It's me, Denysia. Can you hear me?_\n\nI know you're okay...I sense you from down here. You might ache a bit, but you're not injured. Anando and Amna brought you to one of the back rooms in the mezzanine, you'll be safer up there. Don't worry about me. I'm surrounded by good people, good spirits. They'll protect me. It's their job to do so.\n\nListen...I...\n\nI need to do this, and I need to do it now, before it gets too dangerous. I want to tell you everything, explain it all to you...but I can't, not right now, I don't have time. All I can say is that I know what I'm doing. I know you look out for me and all, but you don't have to try so hard...not anymore. I have a lot of people on my side.\n\nI want to thank you for what you told me. You know, that night, about Mom and Dad. I kind of knew some of it, but not everything. Hearing the truth made all the difference. I don't feel nearly as afraid as I thought I would, being who I am now. I'd sort of made peace with Mom and Dad dying, but...this was like closure. Like I finally had a reason for moving forward again. It still hurts sometimes, but I'm strong. I can handle it.\n\nI want — I need to say more to you, but I also need to focus on what I'm doing right now, so this is going to sound a bit disjointed. Bear with me.\n\nLook — I know you're afraid. I know you're afraid you'll lose me like we lost our parents. You're afraid to let me go, and you're absolutely terrified that I'm now the One of All Sacred. Hell, the moment I understood who I was, it scared the hell out of me too. That's why I disappeared the way I did this afternoon — I had to back away to regain myself. But I had Ampryss helping me then, and I have all of you helping me now. I'm not alone, sis! I've got so many people watching me right now! It feels so weird, yet so comforting. To be loved with absolutely no strings attached.\n\nI...\n\nI have to step away again for a little while, so you may not see me when you awaken, okay? But please...have faith in me. This will all end peacefully. I can do this.\n\nNever forget that I love you, Karinna. You are my anchor. You won't ever lose me.\n\n*\n\nChristine lit a single narrow candle and placed it in a holder on the north wall of the room. It flickered slightly in the wind, but never went out.\n\nFirst there is Light.\n\nLight is.\n\nLight becomes.\n\nLight is the essence of the soul, the sustenance of the mind, the fuel that burns within the fires of the heart. Light is the beacon that unites all souls together under the protection of the One of All Sacred and the Goddess Who Is. Light is the protector of all souls, the mother of faith and father of strength.\n\nOn the southern wall, she placed a vidmat still of Caren, an older picture of her friend and former associate taken seven years ago, during a holiday party. Caren's eyes were full and bright, caught midway in spirited laughter. She dipped two fingers of her left hand in an oil solution and drew a clockwise circle on the wall around the picture.\n\nSecond there is Love.\n\nLove is.\n\nLove becomes.\n\nLove is the essence of the heart, the sustenance of the soul, the fuel that burns within the fires of the heart. Love is the thread that binds all souls together under the protection of the One of All Sacred and the Goddess Who Is. Love is the reminder of our existence, the sister to compassion and brother to community.\n\nFinally, she returned to the center of the room, and embraced Poe. She exhaled slowly and relaxed every single nerve in her body, focusing only on the deep trust of her closest friend.\n\nThird there is Peace.\n\nPeace is.\n\nPeace becomes.\n\nPeace is the essence of a complete existence, the sustenance of a community. Peace is the road to knowledge and the leader of all under the One of All Sacred and the Goddess Who Is. Peace is the knowledge that Love and Light exists eternally, the family whole.\n\nTook another slow breath, letting every emotion bleed freely out of her very soul.\n\nDearest One of All Sacred, under the protection of the Goddess Who Is, we ask your divine help in our time of need. We ask your help in divining balance from chaos and peace from dissent. We ask that you guide us and protect us, Dearest One, from the energy that knows no master. We ask that you guide us as we channel this errant energy into Light.\n\nDearest One, we pray for your guidance.\n\nLight is.\n\nLove is.\n\nPeace is.\n\nChristine exhaled and fell out of Poe's arms, the prayer sequence completed.\n\nPoe saw the surge of blistering white energy pulse from the clouds before he felt the current pushing at the two of them. Beautiful and bright and in such contrast to the deep hues of the cloud cover, it illuminated its underside to an impossible swirl of pink and white. All sound had stopped, rain and wind and thunder. He managed a sharp intake of breath and remark about its beauty before the force of it hit the Key and propelled the both of them backwards.\n\nHe was off his feet and sailing with no time to grab hold of anything. He slammed up against the wall, shoulders first then head, and fell limply to the ground, onto the throw pillows. He groggily shook his head, wondering what in the Goddess' name had just hit them.\n\nChristine, by luck of all the gods she knew, had dropped quickly to the floor just at the right time and had cushioned herself for the shock. She had skimmed across the floor, pushing the pillows into a heap against the wall with her in the middle. She lay on the scattered pile, eyes shut tight and hands clenched, close to her temples.\n\n\"...ow,\" she croaked.\n\n\"Chris?\" he called out. He staggered in her direction but got only halfway and he fell to his knees. \"Christine?\" he said again. \"Are you all right?\"\n\nOne eye opened and focused on him. \"What...the hell was that?\"\n\n\"Uh...\" Poe shifted into a sitting position and rubbed gingerly at the back of his head. He focused on the Benjamin's Key in an attempt to regain his bearings. It had blessedly remained solid and true, ready and waiting for the possible siphoning of spirits out into the sea. It vibrated at such a speed that it produced a soft, low hum. \"That,\" he said, \"...was either the beginning of something worse, or we're connected.\"\n\n\"That had to be the worst shock I've ever had with this blessed thing,\" Christine moaned. She stood up, wobbled a little, and caught herself against the wall. She pushed herself off again and studied the Key hesitantly, grabbing onto Poe's shoulder for support. \"I just hope this thing can withstand the intensity.\"\n\nPoe felt a shiver race down his spine. \"You mean...?\"\n\n\"I've never used it on something this strong before, Alec,\" she said, and gingerly moved towards the door. She pushed it open and giant _whoosh_ of chilly humid air came rushing in. She looked up at the sky for a few moments, frowning. \"It should hold...as long as it doesn't get any stronger.\"\n\n\"Here's to hoping,\" he said. He grabbed his comm and called Kai again.\n\nShe answered after the first ping and spoke quickly, barely able to mask her concern. \"Everything is connected? Are you okay over there? We saw the lightning hit...\"\n\n\"We're both fine, just disoriented,\" he said. After a few moments, he added: \"It's Caren I'm worried about.\"\n\nKai hummed in agreement. \"Each person has his or her own duty to the One...and she is Protector. I wish I could say more, but I can only pray that she has the strength to fulfill that duty.\"\n\nPoe wanted to say something, anything, but the words that came to him would have betrayed what he really felt. He wanted to believe she had that strength — she _did_ have it, especially when it came to her sister — but this was more than just protecting her younger sibling from the outside world. He'd known Caren for years...but even now, he wasn't sure if he ever truly knew her spirit. She had never willingly shown it to anyone.\n\n\"Faith, Poe,\" she said softly. \"Have faith in her.\"\n\n\"Oh, that I do,\" he said, but knew it was a lie. Without question, he trusted Caren as a close friend and as his partner on the force. He trusted her wholly...but did he have faith in her? He did not know. He'd never had the reason to question it.\n\nKai chose not to push the matter. \"You've harnessed the spirits with the Key,\" she said in a lighter voice that betrayed her own nerves. \"Ashan and I will take up the rest if need be. The spirit energy needs either release or storage, so it's up to Denni now to decide what to do with it.\"\n\nPoe bit his lip. \"Which is safer?\"\n\n\"Actually...\" she started, her voice uneven. \"If it is released, there's a chance it will remain chaotic. In which case, we're back where we started. If we stored it...\"\n\nPoe shut his eyes tight with dread, and swore under his breath. If Denni decided to store it at the warehouse she might be able to stabilize it, but there was also an equal chance she could lose control of it...and who knew what would happen after that. He couldn't see any clearer solutions. There was so much that he still did not know about the Rain, about the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, despite everything he'd prepared himself for. There were so many unknowns here that he felt his anger surfacing again. This time he sensed it coming and held back, redirecting his emotions towards the task at hand. If he had to lash out, it would be to protect, not to destroy.\n\n\"...Kai?\" he said. His voice sounded pitifully small.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\nHe closed his eyes and started rubbing at the lids. Damn it all, why was this so hard? \"Umm...never mind. You be careful, okay? I'm worried about the two of you. How are you going to send it to the warehouse after it hits us? You don't have any reflectors.\"\n\nKai laughed in spite of herself. \"That's the interesting thing, Poe. The hrrah-sehdhyn? I finally figured out its other purpose. It wasn't just an offensive strike, Poe. It's a barrier _._ It's supposed to keep everything _in_.\"\n\n\"You're kidding,\" he said. \"Even after the church...?\"\n\n\"I believe they're at peace, Poe,\" she said. \"Those civilians weren't supposed to die, but they understood what would happen...and now they're part of the Rain. Poe...it wasn't supposed to happen like this, not so soon. Nehalé sped up the schedule.\"\n\n\"Forget about Nehalé,\" he growled, then realized the futility of his anger again. He was beginning to hate this quick change of emotions that always came at the wrong time. \"Whenever you're ready, Kai. We're set here. The rest...\" He stopped again, thinking of Denni. _I have faith in_ you _, Den. As the wonderful kid you are. Take care of Caren for me._ \"...I guess the rest is up to the One of All Sacred,\" he said.\n\n\"She's already started the Cleansing, Alec,\" she said quietly.\n\n\"Good.\" He wished he could reach out to Denni to comfort her, yet somehow he knew she would be just fine. He shifted his focus towards Kai, standing just outside that barrier with her brother. If Denni failed, they would have the hardest job of all, redirecting the angered spirits back towards the warehouse. He had no idea how they would do it, and he had a feeling they had no clear plan either.\n\n\"Kai?\" he said.\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"Peace, Love and Light to you, Akaina,\" he said so softly he wasn't sure if she had heard him. \"Take care of yourself.\"\n\n\"Alec...\" she started, and could not completely get her words out all at once. \"You take care as well. Love prevails.\"\n\nHe laughed and felt himself blush. \"Yes...yes, it does.\"\n\n*\n\nAll is Light...\n\nThe air trembled around her. The Rain of Light throbbed and thrummed with a nervous, directionless energy that could not be seen or heard, only felt by those within it. She immersed herself in this energy, allowing it to seep well within her own spirit until she understood its collective voice crying out in confusion. She had heard the voices some time ago, but only as aggressive white noise. She chose to drift even deeper into the Rain than Nehalé had suggested or even thought possible. She wanted to know her limits and surpass them. She wanted to hear them as they would hear her.\n\nAll is Light.\n\nThe Rain of Light had heard her voice...and waited.\n\nDenysia exhaled slowly and opened her eyes within the Light, stared into its blinding whiteness, and spoke to the Rain, first in Anjshé, then in Terran English.\n\nHra Denysia Shalei Shé nyhndah eilee...madin Aaramis si Cheylan Shalei si Emmadha si Dhumélis...kinléshi Mendaihu Gharra Karinna Shalei...hra Shé.\n\nRhade hra imhsha.\n\nI am Denysia Shalei, One of All Sacred...daughter of Aaramis and Cheylan Shalei si Emmadha si Dhumélis...sister to Protector Karinna Shalei...I am One.\n\n_Do not be afraid_.\n\nA million voices, all at once, spilled forth like a burst dam and raced outwards, howling and screeching as it engulfed everything within its reach. Denni braved the onslaught and stood her ground, letting the disembodied voices wash through her and over her. She waited now, expecting one voice...or any multitude of voices...to call back. Nearly five minutes passed before she heard something coherent.\n\n_Denysia..._ the unified voices said. She could not guess how many were talking in unison, each voice and tone blending into one another, creating a surreal echo within her spirit. _Denysia..._ it called again. _You are the One of All Sacred...the Shé nyhndah eilee...you enter the Rain of Light of your own free will. The Rain of Light welcomes you._\n\nDespite the utter seriousness of the situation, Denni found herself smiling at the invitation.\n\n_You bring a brother,_ it/they said. _We sense the Watcher Nehalé Usarai Né Mendaihu Gharra. The one who awakened us. He is close._\n\nHad Nehalé made it this far? She had not sensed him at all since her arrival here, yet she knew him to be here...somewhere. She called his name but recieved no answer.\n\n_It seems he finally sleeps,_ the voice said eventually. _He has done his part. It is now our duty to disperse...to Truly Awaken the city._\n\nDenni drew an uneven breath. She had to ask now, before it was too late. _What is happening? Why has Nehalé Awakened you all? I was..._ She paused, measuring her words before she spoke them. She may be the One, but she was also just a fifteen year-old kid dropped into the middle of this insanity, and she was certainly far from perfect. She concealed her own embarrassment and continued. _I was under the impression that you were already sentient to the level of Gharné. I was led to believe that you could become_ _cho-nyhndah_ _with anyone whenever you chose._\n\nThe silence that followed was unnerving. She felt a dread of having asked the wrong question of these bodiless souls, and pleaded silently to herself that they answer with words and not destructive action. She was the hope of millions of civilians in Bridgetown.\n\nFinally, they gave their answer. It was not spoken in anger, nor did they reply with another violent storm surge, but it was not what Denni wanted to hear.\n\nWe do not know, Dearest One. Only the eicho Nehalé can answer that question.\n\n... _and he's 'asleep,'_ she thought miserably. _What happens next?_\n\nThe voices once again erupted in a cacophony of excitement. So many different explanations and hopes and fears poured forth at the same time, inundating her mind and heart with more than she could possibly handle. She squirmed in this Lightspace, arms flailing at bodies and energy that were not truly there in physical form. She barely found her voice within it all. _Please,_ she cried. _Please! Give me order!_\n\nThe voices faded to a low rumble just as quickly as they'd risen, and the change made her feel strangely off balance. She staggered forward, then backward until her legs finally gave out from under her. The sensation of falling, however, did not come. She was being cradled by the souls themselves. She was hovering above nothingness, and still they caught her, easing her fears.\n\n_Thank you,_ she mumbled. _I have recently Awakened myself...and I'm still not completely comfortable with everything here. Please grant me patience, if you will._\n\n_It is granted,_ the voices responded softly, to her relief. _We understand._\n\n_I must explain my presence,_ she said. _We here on Gharra...we are fearful of your anger. If unattended, it can do us harm. I am here to guide you the rest of the way. This is part of my duties as the One of All Sacred._ The voices agreed quietly amongst themselves and let her continue. _I admit I am following instinct here_ , she said. _All I can say is that I can feel — no, I can sense all of you here, both individually and as a whole. I can sense you are equally as lost. Can you tell me...what it is that you seek?_\n\n_We seek Light_ , they said.\n\nLight? She blinked, noting the irony. Here she was, in this formless reality of brilliant whiteness, unable to see anything except her own shimmering form, itself a shade of white ever so slightly brighter.\n\n_What is this Light,_ she asked. She had to ask, even though she knew the answer to some extent. _Peace, Love and Light..._ the creed of the Mendaihu. It was the simple yet unending search for the completeness of being physically and spiritually. Light could only mean one thing to her, and ultimately to these souls.\n\nIt is knowledge, Dearest One. We all search for the Universal constants, for the concrete and scientific. But that is all easy to come by, given the supplies, the dedication, and the time. That is not the Light we seek. We are looking for the Light that feeds us, Denysia, and that which keeps our souls forever alive, even past mortal death. It is hard to describe in such words...it is something we can only experience individually.\n\nBut to us, it is Peace, and it is Love.\n\nDenni nodded, visibly relieved. Their motives were pure enough, in that they did not wish to utterly destroy Bridgetown. She now understood that these souls, if they were to fully awaken and leave the Rain of Light once and for all, they would need to become fully conscious within a human body. It was something about humans...humans from Gharra/Earth...that these souls from Trisanda held so dear. This adoration went far past the ancient familial ties, however. It was as if...\n\n...as if a profound change were to happen regarding the human race.\n\n_We must all be awakened,_ the voices pleaded. _Those of us here, on this spiritual plane, and on the physical plane. We must all awaken soon._\n\nCome, Dearest One. Let us show you what will happen.\n\nAnd inside this Light, she felt the rush of love of these spirits surging through her, filling her with such unspeakable bliss she could no longer speak within or without. She was drowning in this ecstasy that went beyond anything she could ever have conceived. She no longer felt any fear within herself, so certain was her trust in these spirits. Inside this Light, she felt herself disintegrating, her physical and spiritual body falling apart and becoming one with the universe. With _all_ universes. She no longer feared anything, even death.\n\nThe only thing keeping her here on this plane was her sister.\n\nAnd inside this Light, she felt herself stepping through to a much higher level.\n\n*\n\nCaren gasped in a lungful of cold, bitter air and immediately knew that she was not where she wanted or needed to be, even before her eyes had opened. She had been lashing out at Nehalé Usarai when she'd been struck by...lightning? Wait, no. That wouldn't make sense. Then she'd be dead, or at least in a lot more pain. She was...fine? She felt dizzy, same as before, but her eyes no longer felt the pain of the searing white Light. She was lying down on a bed, in a darkened room that somehow felt familiar to her. She reached out a hand tentatively in the air, touching nothing but the cool night breeze. She drank in its iciness, her head spinning from its purity. She recognized it as pure oxygen...like the oxygen tanks she wore once, after she and Poe had gotten caught in that burning apartment in Branden Hill...\n\n\"...Karinna.\"\n\n\"Who —\"\n\n_This is not right._ She sat up quick, her hair a complete mess and covering most of her face. She stubbornly pushed the strands back and tucked them behind her ears as she looked around the darkened room —\n\nHer room. In her apartment. A quiet night in Berndette Corner.\n\n_This is not right._ She jumped out of her bed and scrambled into the dimness of the hallway and over to her sister's room. The door was locked, but she could see light spilling out from underneath. She immediately started pounding on it, calling her name.\n\n_This is not right at all..._ \"Denni!\" she screamed. \"Denni! We've got to get out of here! Now!\"\n\n\"...Karinna.\"\n\nCaren stopped dead in her tracks. Her voice...so calm. So frighteningly calm.\n\n\"...Den? Is that you?\"\n\n\"...Karinna.\"\n\nShe shivered at the sound of Denni's voice. She spoke in quiet, soothing voice that sounded all too unnatural. It wavered synthetically like a voice construct, almost exact in its replica yet never completely hiding a clipped digital soundwave. _That isn't her talking. Or is it...?_ It sounded like...\n\nIt sounded like many voices at once, all imitating hers, all speaking in unison.\n\n_What the hell is going on here?_ \"Denni?\" she called out. \"Where are you?\"\n\nSilence. No...not a silence. She hadn't heard a thing just a moment ago. Now she could hear but not feel a breeze, almost beyond the edge of hearing, and it came from Denni's room.\n\n\"Denni!\" She rapped on her sister's door again. \"Den?\" She started again, quieter this time. \"Den, are you in there?\"\n\nThe door opened slightly, and muted light spilled out of the room and into the hallway. She stared inside, which looked every bit like the bedroom she'd always known, and saw nothing amiss except for the unseen light source. Warmth spilled out towards her, the source of the breeze as it pushed outwards at Caren and out into the hallway. The walls behind her and beside her absorbed the light, absorbed the warmth, and soon the entire apartment was awash with...\n\n_Light,_ Caren thought. _Goddess...she's —_\n\n\"...Karinna, I am _everywhere._ \" The pulsating light inside the room grew in intensity, at once pulling at her and warning her. \"I am...\"\n\nThe light of the room suddenly burst into high brilliance, its energy sending a sharp wave of heat past her. \"De— _Denysia,_ \" she called out, waving her arms half-blindly. \"Oh Goddess, Den...What's happening?\"\n\n\"Come, Karinna,\" she said. \"Come and see.\"\n\n\"See?\" she cried, shielding her watering eyes and taking a tentative step into the bedroom. \"See what? Where are you?\"\n\nAs if in response, the light dropped back down to its ambient hue, a semi-dark room just before dusk. Just as before, nothing had changed. This was Denni's personal hiding space, her own world away from the pain and confusion of the Bridgetown Sprawl. Her plush animals were still piled haphazardly on top of one another on a corner of the still-unmade bed; the heaps of clean and dirty clothes she hadn't yet divided were still scattered around the floor. Her vidmat on the desk near the window still blinked in the dark green of her screen saver.\n\nThis is where you sing me to sleep, Caren.\n\n\"...sing,\" she said, shaking herself back to attention. She reached up and wiped away tears that had begun to form. _Sing,_ she thought. _Yes...I remember that._ That had happened ages ago...when her mother and father had taken night duty at ARU Headquarters. When they were still alive.\n\nDo you remember the song?\n\nShe laughed despite herself. She could not remember the song to save her life. It had been so many years ago...she'd been in her third year at the ARU Training Base just over the Sachers River. She'd chosen to live at home then, just to help out around the house while her parents adjusted to their new schedule. She remembered life being so much more stressful then...she had been so short of money that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to afford her last year at the base. She'd refused to take her parents' patronage on the simple fact that everyone she had ever known had expected her to.\n\nCaren sniffled. \"Sing it for me?\" she asked.\n\nDenni began to sing, and each note began to resonate within Caren's heart.\n\nDo you know, my dear sweet child...that the love within your heart will keep your soul living forever?\n\nCaren smiled as more tears came. \"Yes, now I remember...\n\n\"Do you know, my dear sweet child...\" she sang. Goddess, yes! She remembered this song now. She felt it now, so deeply within. \"...that the love within our hearts...is stronger than anything in this world?\"\n\nDenni joined her in the chorus. \"I can see your Light, dear child, and it's shining within mine...\"\n\nI can see your Light, dear child, and it's shining within mine...\n\n\"Denni...\" she whispered. \"Why am I here...?\"\n\nYou are my anchor, Karinna. You always will be.\n\n\"Your...\" Caren stood in the center of Denni's bedroom...a place that seemed so cluttered and small to her in the past, yet so empty and fragile without her there. That was it — now she understood why she had been brought here. She recognized everything in the room as distinctly Denni's; everything here was an anchor to a reality she'd known her entire life. This included Caren herself. This was her fate as Protector of the One: to watch over the One of All Sacred at any cost, in any situation, no matter how dire...or mystifying.\n\n_I am your anchor,_ she said from within. _Stay with me, Denysia. I will be here._\n\nDenni laughed softly. _Thank you, Karinna._\n\nCaren suddenly felt the rush of warmth pushing by her...and stopping. She shivered as the air displaced itself around her. This was not only Denni's love but her _spiritform_ she felt swirling around her in a surreal dance with her own spirit. She felt her own soul intertwining with Denni's, becoming one.\n\nCome see, Karinna. Come see what I've seen...\n\n\"I...can't.\" The words seeped out before she could stop them. _Of course,_ she should have said. _I'd love to!_ But she had shied away. She truly could not begin to guess what Denni may have wanted to show her, but she knew it would have been well beyond her understanding. She did not want to lose hold of her own anchor...this place, this apartment. This city! She had lived in this city for so long she could not comprehend leaving it, especially now that her fate had been sealed along with Denni's. If she were to be a link to this reality for her...then it would be wise to be the strongest damned link she could be.\n\n\"I'll see it soon enough,\" she said. \"You can tell me when you return. Do what you have to do there, kid, and come back to me real soon, okay?\"\n\nDenni laughed. _'kay,_ she said, and the warmth surrounding Caren slowly started to dissipate along with the light. The room dimmed to the point of ambience, just enough that she could see where she was, and just enough to make out certain objects in the room. _I love you, Karinna,_ she said, her voice now just a whisper. _I'll be back. I promise. I'll call if it's going to be longer._\n\nCaren laughed, instantly recognizing those same words she had said to Denni just a few days earlier. \"I love you too, kid.\"\n\n*\n\nWatching with Lightseeing eyes, Kai felt the first blast of spiritual energy rebounding against the hrrah-sehdhyn barrier, pulsing and thrumming against it in a dense white cloud. Though she and Ashan stood well away from the barrier at least two blocks away, the force of the wash sent an unexpected and disorienting shockwave past it. The building lurched and swayed under their feet, then after an agonizing moment, swayed back. The people below stopped or slowed momentarily, then stopping completely, staring up at the overcast sky. Kai sensed the brief wave of uncertainty from them, of a sudden reckoning that hit hard in their souls and in their minds. A sudden guarded awareness. A sudden taste of senses and memories come back to life. Kai shivered, sensing all of this and not wanting to look away at all.\n\nThe City was at last, truly awakening.\n\n\"How are we doing?\" she asked Ashan, who stood to her right, watching plainly.\n\n\"It depends,\" he said, letting go of the ledge he had held for his own support. \"The storm is winding down It isn't as violent. But I'm wondering how it's affecting those within.\"\n\nKai nodded silently, thinking the same thing. Aside from Alec and Caren, she could think of no other contacts within the hrrah-sehdhyn. They had earlier sensed Nick and Sheila near the warehouse, against orders to take the day off, and odds were good that Caren was inside. She frowned as she watched another rolling wave emanating from Alec's direction, billowing out as harmless white energy and expanding towards them. The shock was softer this time, barely detectable.\n\n\"What about Inspector Farraway?\" she offered after a moment. \"As far as I know, he's still at ARU Headquarters. Perhaps he can be of help.\"\n\nAshan winced. \"I don't know about that. Are you suggesting he go in, or send other soulsensers?\"\n\nKai blushed, realizing the futility of her suggestion. \"I suppose you're right. Still...we need someone in there to tell us what's happening. Alec's busy...so I'm going to try to pick up Nick and Sheila. Hopefully they've left their commlinks open.\"\n\nAshan nodded. \"If you can, get them as close to the warehouse as possible. If they can't get in, at least get them in the neighborhood. I'll watch while you call.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\" she said, touching his arm. \"Your eyes...\"\n\n\"They're better, thank you,\" he smiled. \"Only retinal flash burn.\"\n\nShe nodded and attempted to raise the two on her comm, trying several times on different frequencies. The airwaves were filled with crackling static, an aftereffect of the spirit waves, making it tough to raise anyone at all. She had to test all of them three times before finally finding Nick, who happened to be calling for Alec at same time using the same method. The rustling of raindrops hitting pavement echoed behind his voice.\n\n\"Kai?\" he called out, his voice somewhere between excitement and bewilderment. \"Where the hell are you?\"\n\n\"Northern Avenue,\" she said. \"Gelinas and Associates Building. Just outside the hrrah-sehdhyn zone.\" She explained to him the manner of how the storm had started and what was being done to prevent it from becoming much worse. She also informed him of everyone's relative safety both inside and outside the barrier, and that she needed confirmation that all was well within.\n\n\"No issues I can see,\" he said. \"We're across the street from Moulding's. Me, Sheila and about twenty other people, we all ducked into an open dock bay door at another warehouse...Dubois and Sons. That's the name of it. We have a good view of Moulding's from here, and there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary happening.\"\n\nKai pursed her lips. _We have to get him inside._\n\n_Only if he is willing, Akaina,_ Ashan reminded. _You must ask him._\n\nTo her relief, Nick had answered the simple question with an excited affirmative, more than willing to investigate. She worried that his motives had been fueled by the church attack, however, and made a point to remind him who had been behind that.\n\n\"Sheila and I are more than willing to do this,\" he reiterated. \"Although for separate reasons. I want to make sure Caren and Denni are safe...but I think Sheila has other plans. I think she's getting more of this spirit energy than I am. She wants to make sure everyone's safe on that level.\"\n\nKai nodded in Ashan's direction. \"Thank you, Nick. Stay on this channel and keep in touch with us every ten minutes.\"\n\n\"Will do. Sheila and I are heading over there right now...\" The sudden ticking sound in back of his voice grew louder. \"That's the rain, if you're wondering. You wouldn't believe the downpour we're having here...\"\n\nKai laughed. \"Don't worry about it. We'll be here. Alec is on E8 if you need him as well.\"\n\n\"Got it,\" he said. \"Back in ten.\"\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT\n\n_Anchors_\n\nAbandonment. Saone felt it more than anything else, and it stung.\n\n_This must be how it feels,_ she thought as she crouched to the floor of the office. _To abandon everything you truly believe in. To be abandoned by all that you love._ She wiped a stray tear from her eye as she watched the warehouse floor through the long hallway connecting the two rooms. With her limited field of vision she could still see the hundreds of people huddled all over the floor, all in some meditative trance that she could not understand. Kryssyna stood above her, leaning against an empty desk with her arms crossed, waiting patiently for her to make the next move.\n\n\"You never got a hold of your dad, did you,\" she said.\n\nSaone shook her head. \"No...he wouldn't answer me.\" She grimaced and faced the wall behind her, knowing it was in the same direction as the Mirades Tower. \"What the hells are you doing up there, _fadayin_?\" She shook her head and stood up, feeling the strain as she stretched her muscles out again. \"Nrgh...ouch. Shouldn't have stayed in that position for so long.\"\n\n\"Definitely lacks the stamina of a True Warrior,\" Kryssyna said, grinning at her.\n\nSaone shot her a nasty glare and continued as she paced the room. \"He knew something, damn it all, and I'm not sure what. He knows what Denni's doing right now, this second, and he won't tell me what it is. He expected the Gathering and the Cleansing. He knew it would lead up to this, but what am I missing...?\"\n\n\"You mean he and Nehalé are working together?\"\n\nSaone came up short. \"What? No! Not in the least. He knew the plot well beforehand, I want to know if he knew who the characters were.\"\n\nKryssyna smiled. \"Interesting choice of words. This coming from the daughter of the producer of the latest Johnny Goto movie.\"\n\n\"I'm serious!\" Saone laughed at her friend's odd joke despite her frustration. \"You're in a good mood, aren't you?\"\n\nKryssyna stepped up to Saone and gently took her hands. \"It's the Rain, Saone. The Cleansing of the Spirits has already begun. And despite our plans, we've become part of this cleansing.\" She pulled Saone close and embraced her. \"You and I, we were born Shenaihu, but we both had our spirits altered when Nehalé performed the Awakening. You by force, me willingly. We're both cho-nyhndah now, and we're still making our peace with that. And as much as it pains me, I admit Nehalé's right. Better a peaceful unity than an eventually unstable segregation.\"\n\nSaone shivered. \"What do you mean?\"\n\nKryssyna took her face and held it in her hands. Her light blue eyes were wide, willingly inviting Saone to take hold of the spirit within. \"Listen, Saone. Your father, the Dahné, wants another season of Embodiment where we're at constant odds with each other. No, don't even tell me otherwise. You know very well he's scared to death of what would happen if we had peace instead. To him, it would mean the Shenaihu lost. He sees it only in reaction — for every move Nehalé makes, he has to respond in kind. And all his plans were turned into Mendaihu positives. The nuhmn'dah spying on Denni's parents back then? The hrrah-sehdhyn now? It's as if Dahné Lehanna is _handing_ the Mendaihu this victory.\"\n\nSaone huffed in frustration. \"And he doesn't give up this easily, either,\" she said. She frowned at her in defeat, but despite her annoyance, she couldn't stay mad at her. She couldn't be mad at her, especially when she was telling the truth.\n\n\"So what are _we_ doing here, shadhisi?\" she said, arching a brow at her. \"If it wasn't our fate to stop the Cleansing process, why are you and I here? Are we to be cleansed as well? And if so, why aren't we in some meditative state like those out there?\"\n\nBecause your fate has not been completely fulfilled, Saone.\n\nSaone gasped at the voice that came from nowhere, and everywhere. \"D...Denysia?\"\n\n_I was so very glad to meet you, Saone Lehanna,_ she said. Saone recognized the voice, and yet it sounded wrong somehow — no, not wrong, but changed. Peaceful, wiser. _And despite our lack of communication, I could feel you. I only recently realized you were Natianos' youngest daughter. It's only by chance now that I could feel your presence here at the warehouse, and found you had not left at all._\n\nSaone's jaw trembled as she spoke. \"Den...Denysia? Is that you?\"\n\nShe felt a wave of positive energy, of pure _love_ , wash over them in reply. _Yes, Saone,_ she answered. _It's me._\n\n\"Where are you?\"\n\n_I...am everywhere,_ she answered. _I am in each and every person's conscience right now...although I've managed to narrow my attention down to just those directly involved. I believe I'm currently carrying on conversations with about five thousand people at once at this very moment._ She let out a youthful laugh. _And I don't even know how I'm doing it._\n\n\"You're...\" Kryssyna started. \"You're the One of All Sacred.\"\n\n_Of course I am, but still...I'd like to know_ how _I'm doing all of this. I'm not going to just accept it blindly. I'm stubborn enough to want to know why I can do everything I'm doing._\n\nSaone stared into an empty space, focusing on the girl's presence. Slowly and awkwardly she pulled out of Kryssyna's embrace and sat down on the desk. She glanced down the hallway again at the meditating people, and wondered what kind of conversation she was having with them at the moment. Were they praising her as some otherworldly goddess? Were they talking about the more mundane things in life? What was she asking them to do?\n\nWere they asking what would become of their old soul, once the Cleansing did what it was supposed to do?\n\nI need your help, Saone. I need help from both of you. You are unaffected by the Rain of Light and the Cleansing, for some reason I still can't figure out. Perhaps you are both cho-nyhndah already...?\n\n\"Yes,\" Saone said, and for the first time she found herself accepting that truth without mortification. Yes, she was cho-nyhndah. It was time to embrace that now. \"Kryss and I were both pure Shenaihuza. We can trace our lines back to the original Trisandi tribes. But we...well, it's a long story.\"\n\nA ripple of something happy, perhaps amusement, emanated from Denysia's presence and washed over them. _All the better,_ she said excitedly. _There's only one way we can end this Cleansing, you know...this isn't something that's going to just burn itself out. Nehalé Usarai opened the door to this otherness, and opened it far too wide, far too early. I've managed to contain it, thanks to the hrrah-sehdhyn barrier, but it needs to be closed again, before everything falls out of control._\n\nSaone felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as the memory of Nehalé's ritual came rushing back into clear view. Her pain and agony at the foot of the Tower...all that energy siphoned out, and that vision...the vision of blistering white light, burning and obliterating everything...all this time, she believed that had been the Rain's doing. She'd believed what she saw was the Rain spiraling out of control, destroying Bridgetown. How wrong, how dreadfully wrong she had been! She hadn't been caught in the Rain at all, but in the connection of pure Light, of both Shenaihuza and Mendaihuza spirit forms...and she had witnessed their terrifying strength firsthand.\n\nThe only way to stop it was to let her father, a Shenaihuza, perform the closing just as he'd planned.\n\n\"Goddess...\" she whimpered. \"Denysia...I—I can't do that!\"\n\n_You can and you will, Saone._ There was a hint of force to her voice. _You know this is the only way it can happen._\n\n\"Denysia...I can't,\" Saone cried. \"People are going to die!\"\n\nNot if I can help it.\n\n\"What can you do?\" Kryssyna called out. \"You just said yourself that you can't close this by yourself. How can you say you can save these five thousand people you're talking to?\"\n\n_By continuing to talk,_ she said. _I shall be their anchor in these worlds._\n\n\"An anchor?\" she said, eyes wide. \"How do you expect to hold the spiritual bodies of five thousand people while their bodies burn to cinders?\"\n\n_Faith_ , she said. Both Kryssyna and Saone were sure there was a hint of mischief in that one word, for they both looked at each other with looks of pained inevitability.\n\n\"I was afraid you'd say that,\" Saone said. \"A cryptic and religious answer to an ethical scientific fact...the worlds have enough of those, Denysia. I'd like some proof _._ \"\n\n_Proof you shall have,_ she answered. _First we must close the door._\n\nSaone let out a curse, grudgingly accepting her vision as prophecy. She closed her eyes tight and lifted her head to the ceiling, wishing that Kryssyna would not have to become part in this. This was her vision, her supposed fate, and not Kryssyna's. She had sworn never to lead her into danger unless she had volunteered willfully, and this time she dared not ask. She did not want the both of them to die, when it came down to it. She would die for her...but not with her.\n\n_This includes the both of you,_ Denysia said.\n\n\"I can do without the invasion into my brain, Denysia,\" she said with more than a hint of anger.\n\nKryssyna took her hand and squeezed it tight. \"Don't worry about me, Saone...I think I know what she's up to. There's still a way out.\"\n\nSaone pulled away, staring at her. Was there a way out of certain inevitable death that she did not know about? Apparently Kryssyna did know, for she now had a peaceful smile crossing her lips. She drew a finger across her forehead, pushing back an errant strand of hair. \"Think about it,\" she said. \"Peace, Love and Light, Saone. They truly are what is protecting us — not just you and I, but the thousands out on the floor. And everyone else out in that world.\" She let out a small giggle and embraced her again, giddy with emotion. \"All we need to do is keep the three energies bound together, keep them in everyone's mind and heart.\"\n\nSaone didn't fully believe it herself. If she could feel that unconditional love she felt when Denysia touched them...and if she could feel that love now, even with only her voice to hear, then maybe there was a chance after all that these people would survive. _What stories they could tell years from now,_ she mused, a ridiculous grin crossing her own face. _Those touched spiritually by the One of All Sacred...the followers of the One._\n\n\"Lead on,\" she called out into the air. Inspired by the moment, she recited a prayer she'd remembered from her youth. \"I am yours, Dearest One...I come to you with my spirit and my love, to lay down and pass into countless realms for you. And, ultimately, for all of the universes and realities.\"\n\n_I am honored,_ Denysia said quietly. _You shall be remembered in my heart._\n\nSaone laughed...it was the only reaction that made sense right now! \"...and you in mine,\" she said. She took Kryssyna's hand and led her to the hallway door. \"It's time.\" They walked out the door together and into the Light...\n\n*\n\nCaren stirred and opened her eyes, and once again knew she was where she needed to be. Anando was holding her close, his fingers caressing her face and hair, keeping her close to his chest and watching over her in silence. His eyes shone when they met hers, completely happy to have her back. She inhaled slowly, tasting the sticky sweet air of energy that swelled around her, and realized that for the first time in her life she felt completely relaxed and at ease with herself, both spiritually and physically.\n\n_Hra khera, hra mehra,_ she thought with a smile. _I am at peace._\n\nShe pushed herself out of his arms and into a sitting position, getting her bearings. They were in a small and dimly lit room, presumably in one of the mezzanine offices at the warehouse. It had grown dark outside, with barely any sunlight coming through the frosted windows. How long had she been out? \"Where are we?\" she asked.\n\n\"Upstairs offices at the far end of the warehouse,\" Anando said. \"We felt it best to distance you from the main floor for now. Amna has left to be with Denysia, so it's just you and me.\"\n\nTo her complete surprise, she did not feel the sudden shock of not knowing where her sister was or being able to get to her. For the first time in ages, she no longer worried about Denni's welfare; rather, she now felt an immense pride, trusting her completely.\n\n\"Denni...\" she stopped, twisting in place to face him. \"Denni brought me to our apartment up in Berndette Corner. Just for a little while. She said she's using me as an anchor for her own spirit.\"\n\nAnando nodded. \"Amna is there for a physical anchor. Now that Denysia is bound to the both of you, she cannot be taken away.\"\n\nCaren didn't like the tone of those words. \"Tell me, Anando.\"\n\nAnando pursed his lips and frowned, looking away briefly. \"She understood the consequences of the Cleansing, Karinna. She has to perform the Closing. Those down on the floor may be experiencing the blending of the spirits, becoming true cho-nyhndah, but unless one wanted to perform this ritual on the entire world...someone needs to close the connection. Otherwise this will continue to go on indefinitely, eventually expanding outwards into the Universe. And that is not part of the plan.\"\n\n\"No...\" she said. Despite her revived strength, she could not will herself to stand up. She felt so tired, so exhausted...the worlds had taken so much out of her the last few days, had asked so much of her that she now felt herself resigned to fate. She hadn't made peace with it all, not even close. But for now, all the fight had gone out of her. All she could do was hope that Denni would be able to bring this all to an end somehow, bring everything back to a peaceful stasis.\n\n_Faith..._ she thought. _I have faith in you, Den._\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Anando whispered, breaking the silence.\n\nCaren frowned at him. \"What are you apologizing for, Anando? You weren't a part of all this...were you?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry that we did not explain everything to you so long ago,\" he said, looking away again. Was he ashamed? \"The Mendaihu could only watch and protect Denysia and yourself...we could not prevent fate.\"\n\n\"To hell with fate!\" she growled, waving a hand at him. \"If Denni and I were destined to do this? I wouldn't call this fate at all! Predetermination? Sure. Prophecy? Sure. But it is not fate. We have a choice, Anando. Free will. We could have chosen not to follow at any time, you know. Our souls may sing, but we still have the ability to ignore it. It could have gone differently.\"\n\nAnando sighed patiently. \"Nehalé still would have started the Awakening. Denysia still would have become the One of All Sacred. But you're right, it was not fate...it was inevitability.\"\n\nCaren swore again, this time inwardly. He was right, damn it all. Despite her resignation, the situation still aggravated the hell out of her. Denni, Poe, Sheila and Nick, everyone else...they had been drawn into this by Anando, by Kai and Ashan...by Farraway...by her parents...and by Nehalé Usarai. \"And I had the chance to beat the shit out of that bastard just a half hour ago,\" she mumbled to herself.\n\nAnando cocked his head at her. \"What?\"\n\nShe smirked at him. \"Nothing. Sorry I yelled at you.\" She reached out and held his hand. \"Can't escape this, can I?\"\n\nHe squeezed her hand and offered her a weak smile. \"I'm afraid not.\"\n\n\"I figured as much,\" she said. \"Listen...whatever happens next...I want to thank you for finding me.\" She suddenly found herself blushing and turned away. \"Look at me...laughing like a moron. Damn it, I'm supposed to be _pissed_ right now, Anando! I'm thirty-three, damn it. I'm too old to be falling in love again with an apparent soul mate I don't even know.\"\n\nAnando let out a hearty laugh. \"Ha! So you admit to it!\"\n\nShe smacked him on the shoulder. \"Shut up! I don't even know _how_ I feel about you right now!\"\n\n\"Never try to explain love, you'll only get yourself in trouble,\" he said with a wink.\n\n\"Truer words never spoken,\" she said, and pushed herself up, offering him a hand on the way. \"Let's go do this. I've a feeling we're supposed to be going somewhere right now.\"\n\nAnando stopped in his tracks. \"We're supposed to stay here, in this room, Karinna,\" he said.\n\nCaren shook her head. \"I've healed enough for now. I have you and I have Denni, and I've never felt safer. I don't need to be here, not now. I believe I am already cho-nyhndah. Maybe it's inherited from my parents...maybe Nehalé woke up the Shenaihu side of me that night...I don't know.\" She placed a hand on her chest, feeling her own heart beating, and it was completely calm for the first time in years. \"I believe both sides are here within me, Anando. I can feel it, just like I can feel your connection to me.\" She blushed again, laughing quietly. \"I'm sorry...it's hard to describe without sounding like an idiot.\"\n\nAnando smirked. \"Trust me, dear one, you don't.\"\n\n\"Maybe I don't,\" she said. \"Maybe you're right, that this awakening was fate after all. Maybe it had to happen. For some of us, like Poe and myself, we already had our cho-nyhndah within. All we needed was for something to trigger our consciousness of it. Nehalé's ritual. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?\"\n\n\"I think I do. But what about those downstairs? Are you saying that they don't have that other side, as you put it?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't know,\" she said, her brows lifting. \"Who am I to be the judge of that? It could be anything. But letting those _corresponding_ spirits — gods, that sounds so cold and distant, doesn't it? Those newer spirits make me think of Prometheus, oddly enough.\"\n\n\"A...a _jinko_?\" he said. It took Caren a few moments to realize he'd used a street word of bastardized Japanese used coarsely and often rudely to describe the manmade AI so prevalent in office structures. A created lifeform, but devoid of soul. It was not quite what she had meant, but in a way it was close enough.\n\n\"Sort of,\" she said. \"Like Shirai at the Mirades Tower. It's something so new to us that we, as a human and by extension a Meraladian race, aren't quite sure what to make of it. We all have our ideas and opinions, but none of us really know what's true and what might be imagined. I can't help but wonder what their lives are going to be like once this is over.\"\n\n\"If all goes according to plan,\" Anando said soothingly, \"there won't be a difference at all. If Denysia keeps them close to her, they'll keep their focus. The only change will be that of another awakening...that of memories. The other spirit's memories...and they'll perceive them as their own, which will be true, since both spirits will become one.\"\n\nCaren stopped him with a hand and shook her head. \"Okay. _That_ I didn't know.\" She paused, sorely tempted to continue this conversation, but she knew that there was little time left. \"We can continue this later, Anando. Right now I've got to get outside.\" She held out a hand. \"You're welcome to follow if you want to.\"\n\nWithout a second thought, he moved forward and took her hand again. Together they stepped out of the office and made for the opposite end of the warehouse. She stopped momentarily at the end of the aisle, gazing at the thousands of people at the other end, kneeling in silent prayer. She watched them with both reverence and awe; these were the followers of the One — her sister! — and believed in her so deeply that they had put their very lives in her hands. Caren knew she was here among them, in spirit if not in person.\n\n_Peace, Love and Light to all of you,_ she said to anyone who could or wanted to hear. _Love is with the One Everlasting._ She turned back, and exited with Anando onto the rain-slicked street.\n\nIt had stopped raining for the most part, the clouds above slowly fading from a deep charcoal to a light gray. Whatever had been done, it was working. The Rain of Light had been successfully harnessed, and now the spirits would soon be released. She turned on the commlink on the lapel of her uniform and called out to Poe, hoping he was still there.\n\n*\n\nPoe did not expect to be so relieved to hear Caren's voice over the comm, but he felt himself tearing up the moment she called his name. He truly hadn't expected her to, once she entered the warehouse. Her primary motive, after all, had been to be with Denni, no matter what the cost. The Key already forgotten, Poe moved to a corner of the small shed, settled down on a pile of pillows, and leaned up against the wall. Just outside the one window, he could see Christine pacing back and forth in her own thoughts.\n\n\"Pashyo, Caren. It's great to hear your voice,\" he said, and meant it. \"Thank the Goddess you're okay.\"\n\n\"This has been a very weird hour, Alec,\" she said. \"You're on Haden Street, right? Two or three blocks down?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said. \"I'm still at Christine's, up on the roof. The Key is holding.\"\n\n\"Tell her I said hello, and thank her for me...for all of us! Anando and I are heading out, we'll meet you there in about ten or fifteen minutes. I suggest that if there's last minute things that need to be done, you do them now.\"\n\nPoe frowned. In the back of his mind he remembered the name from Matthew's data crystal. \"Who's he? And what's going on?\"\n\n\"You'll meet him soon enough,\" she said. He could just about hear the smile on her face. \"In the meantime, I suggest you hold your position if you don't have anything else going on. I'm going to get a hold of Kai and Ashan and get them up to speed.\"\n\n\"Caren, what's going on?\" he asked again. \"What aren't you telling me?\"\n\n\"It's too complicated right now, but I'll explain when I get there. You're going to be involved, Alec,\" she said.\n\nPoe bristled at the comment, but let it pass for now. \"Did you happen to see our second team, by any chance?\" he asked. \"They should still be at the warehouse.\" He had been about to say something else when Christine walked back in, noticed him in the corner, and lifted her head at him in question. He mouthed Caren's name, tapped on his watch, and waved an open palm at her. Frowning, she nodded and left the shed again.\n\n\"Alec?\" she called.\n\n\"Sorry. Just telling Christine we're getting more company. Anyway, last I knew, they were inside the warehouse, or at least nearby.\"\n\n\"They shouldn't have come,\" Caren cursed. \"I just came from there. It's too late to go back now.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it,\" he said quickly. \"I'll try to hail them again.\"\n\n\"Right. See you in ten,\" she said, and signed off before he could say any more.\n\n\"Damn!\" He pushed himself up and headed out of the shed. He cursed again as he strode towards the edge of the roof, wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve. With the last of the Rain calmed, the air had gotten humid and uncomfortable. Everything was a discomfort right now...Denni was off in an otherwhere, Caren had left the warehouse, Kai and Ashan were too far away, and team two were in the wrong place. So many things could go wrong right now. The chances of Nick and Sheila getting out of the warehouse so quickly were slim and falling. He blessed is luck when Nick answered after a few tries on different frequencies. He hurriedly explained the situation to him and tried talking him out of staying at the warehouse, at least for his own protection.\n\n\"Sheila's right here,\" he said. \"She wants to stay.\"\n\n\"Caren told me to get the two of you out of there, Nick,\" he warned. \"Now, I'm hoping that nothing will happen...perhaps you'll all be safe there, I don't know.\"\n\n\"So what do we do?\" he asked.\n\n\"Use your judgment. If you think it's safe to stay, fine. I just wouldn't recommend it if you're not ready for it.\"\n\nNick did not answer right away.\n\n\"We're all meeting at Christine's place, on the roof,\" Poe added. \"She'll have the door open.\"\n\n\"Sheila still wants to stay,\" Nick finally answered, his voice quiet.\n\n\"Fine,\" he growled. \"It's your own choice then.\"\n\nNick paused again before answering, leaving Poe in an uncertain predicament. Had he just broken up the second team? Had he just put Sheila in danger, inadvertently or not? By rule of seniority, it had fallen on him to make such decisions. But this had not been a normal situation, even by ARU standards. He could only hope he had made the right decision.\n\n\"I'll try to be there as soon as possible,\" Nick said, almost sullenly. She must have almost talked him into it.\n\nPoe gave him directions and let him sign off. He cursed one more time, trying to keep a handle on this rapidly deteriorating situation. He pulled out a cigarette from his inside uniform pocket and lit it, leaning heavily on the railing. A moment later Christine joined him. Without a word she plucked the cigarette from his fingers, took a long drag, and placed it back in his hand. He pulled another out, lit it, and handed it to her.\n\n\"Thanks. A Closing ritual,\" she said before exhaling.\n\nHe nodded and took another drag. \"I just signed off the fate of two of the best people I work with, Chris.\"\n\nShe squeezed his shoulder. \"They'll be fine, Alec,\" she said. \"They'll be changed...but they'll be fine.\"\n\n\"I sure as hell hope so.\"\n\n*\n\nMatthew glanced at the multiple security camera images blinking across one of the leftmost screens. He had most of them trained on Governor Rieflin's forces to make sure they did not act without his say so. Matthew had let him contact each captain in charge to remind them of that fact, and in retrospect, he was amazed that Rieflin did not attempt to defy him. Rieflin had told them quickly and forcefully that they were not to shut down this ritual, no matter what they witnessed. He was greatly amused by Rieflin's self-added threat that those who defied his orders would not answer to him, but to Jack Priestley and the Crimson-Null Foundation. It was a bit overboard, but it certainly did its job. No one dared disobey his orders now.\n\nRieflin's face appeared on the main screen, worn and sweat-streaked. \"Everyone is accounted for, kid. Now do you mind telling me what the hell is about to happen?\"\n\nMatthew smiled. \"Greatly appreciated, sir, and of course I will. That storm you see out there, the Rain of Light, has been grounded. Excess spiritual energy has been harnessed, calmed, and sent back to the warehouse, where it's still collecting. The ritual in question...\" He paused, thinking of the best way to put it without stirring Rieflin's doubts or fears. \"...is what's called a Cleansing. Physically, it's harmless.\"\n\nRieflin seemed to soften a little. On a separate monitor he saw Nandahya Mirades biting her bottom lip, her face growing paler by the moment. She knew what this ritual entailed, but she did not dare tell Rieflin. Matthew, who felt he was somewhat a better judge of character than Nandahya, had maneuvered Rieflin to the point that he could sway him to his side, but he did not want to chance it so soon. Instead, he continued with a softer version of what was going on.\n\n_Nandahya must be cho-nyhndah,_ he mused. _That has to be why she's holding back._\n\n\"There are, however, some physical side-effects to the ritual...I'm going to warn you now, sir, that there may be some people who will find some of this a bit disturbing.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" he said unevenly. \"How so?\"\n\n\"No one will be harmed. That I can promise you. They will be changed, spiritually and emotionally...but physically no harm will come to them.\"\n\nJust then, to Matthew's right, a flash of light on a screen caught his eye. He turned to the monitor, stopped in his thoughts, and shivered. Caught by the security cam outside the warehouse, a pinprick of white light had pierced the roof and shot skyward. He tapped at the monitor and zoomed out, showing the beam slicing clean through the clouds above.\n\n\"Huh,\" he said, lifting his brows. He hadn't expected that so soon. \"Sir...\" he continued, and turned back to Rieflin's image. He cleared his throat and started again. \"Sir, I repeat. No physical harm will come to anyone. All I ask is that you understand...this is not an offensive or defensive move. It's merely a closing. An endgame.\"\n\nRieflin frowned at him. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" he said. \"Look out the window.\"\n\nMatthew watched as Rieflin craned his neck to the right, his brows pinched together. A second later his whole face went slack and pale. A word, possibly a curse, died on his lips.\n\n\"Welcome to a new reality, sir,\" Matthew said. \"Keep in touch. I trust your judgment.\"\n\nMatthew tapped a single key, and all of Rieflin's connections flickered back online. Rieflin had not noticed, for both he and Nandahya had risen from their chairs and moved towards the windows, where they stared at the beacon of light coming from the Waterfront district.\n\nHe did not bother to check on Rieflin's forces. They were smart enough not to move in on something this enormous. Instead he pushed himself out of the chair, stretched the kinks out of his muscles, and left the room. He stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and left the apartment for the roof.\n\nHe saw the beacon of light shooting through the Rain of Light as soon as he passed through the door. He chose a spot near the edge, sat down in a lotus position, and began to meditate.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-NINE\n\n_Awakening_\n\nDenysia?\n\nDenni opened her eyes to the brilliance enveloping her body. She felt nothing...no wind pushing at her, no temperature to scald or freeze her, no gravity to pull her down, no objects for her to touch. The only other sound besides her own breathing was that of Ampryss, quietly but anxiously calling her name. She twirled in midair and let herself stop in what she thought was the direction of the voice, and leaned forward ever so slightly until she felt the sensation of moving towards it.\n\n_Ampryss,_ she called back.\n\n_Denysia,_ she repeated, a tone of relief in her voice. _I am happy to hear your voice again. You have initiated the Cleansing?_\n\n_I have,_ Denni answered.\n\nDespite the freedom, despite the boundless knowledge she had acquired, she still felt something had kept her from knowing precisely why all this was happening. It had remained unattainable, even through her transformation, and she knew she was not the only one feeling this frustration. Caren had voiced hers quite a few times throughout this ordeal...she, of all people, deserved some sort of answer.\n\nAs if reading her thoughts, Ampryss spoke into the void: _This is the way it has always been, Denysia. For you alone, to awaken as the One of All Sacred, all you needed was to comprehend the infinite power of knowledge. For you, it was the simple task of equating comprehension with Meraladian sensing. Because of that, it became instinct for you. You do not feel intimidated by your godlike status, because you trust yourself. You have simply accepted that You Are. That's all it is, nothing more._\n\nFor others, however...for untold numbers to awaken at once to their True Nature, we as spiritwatchers have found it necessary for a life-changing event to trip people up, as it were. When Nehalé Usarai initiated the First Awakening ritual, the psychic blast caused a great number of people to see life with different eyes. When he brought you back to the Crest, you learned to achieve clarity by stepping away temporarily. Down there, in your city, those most affected were also the most changed. Their ancestral link to Trisanda had become strengthened by both your awakening and by the Rain of Light.\n\nDenni let a long silence go by before she answered. _That doesn't answer my question,_ she said. _Why is this happening?_\n\n_Perhaps that is not the question you want to ask,_ Ampryss replied, _because it is too vague. You are asking for a meaning to life. Perhaps if you narrowed your question down?_\n\nDenni growled in frustration. Ampryss was right, she needed a sharper focus. What would Caren have asked? She would have been able to get a straightforward answer out of anyone if she was angry enough. _Okay, then,_ she huffed. _What, exactly, was Nehalé's motive for starting the Awakening? Are we awaiting — no, let me rephrase that. I understand the concept of Return, Ampryss. Countless religions, myths, what have you...most all of them have some sort of Return. It could be a soul's return to a higher plane of existence...or a Messiah's return to the mortal world._ She let out a satisfied chuckle. _I suppose I can be viewed as the latter. But all of this? Nehalé's psychic blast...the Rain of Light...the hrrah-sehdhyn...the ongoing animosity between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu...just so we can all achieve some sort of personal godhood? That's not the full story. If Nehalé caused all that just to Awaken us, I'm sure he could have done without the sacrifices. Something scared him. Is that it?_\n\n_Nehalé Usarai is a reality seer,_ Ampryss said. _What he sees in the future is only one of a number of possible realities, all of which hinge upon the events that happen before it. He saw the possibility of your Awakening and moved on that without question. That tends to be his weakness most of the time, but truly, he had honorable intentions. As for the cho-nyhndah ritual, to bring the Mendaihu and Shenaihu souls together..._\n\nAmpryss left her in an uncomfortable silence as she gathered her own thoughts together. Denni squirmed in the sea of Light, already becoming restless and wishing that she were back on Earth, with her sister, with Amna, with her friends...with anyone now, in the physical plane. But to leave this Light now would be to leave the thousands she watched over as the Gathering and Cleansing rituals took place. It was her selflessness and love for them that kept her from leaving, but it was her own youth and individuality that screamed to let go. These were her own twin spirits manifesting themselves.\n\n_Ultimately, he believes he is building an army of Warriors of the One, Denysia,_ Ampryss said finally. _He is readying Gharra for another war of the spirits._\n\n\"He can't!\" she barked. \"I won't let him, Ampryss! We cannot have another war between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu!\"\n\n_No, we cannot,_ she answered. _That is why you must stop him from falling into the same trap again, Denysia. You've calmed the spirits now, but they need rest. They need direction if we are to avoid another war. It is your duty as the One of All Sacred to ease this tension and find a peaceful balance again._\n\nDenni wanted to answer that, but she could find no words right now. Why was Nehalé trying to destroy everything he'd been working so hard for? And why was Natianos Lehanna responding to every peace offering with violence? Why was any of this happening? She already knew the only way to end this Cleansing ritual was to have Natianos interrupt it. He had to close the cycle, just as Nehalé had opened it.\n\nShe shivered, saddened and angry at the same time. _I feel so...so frustrated, Ampryss. We're all doing our best to be at peace, and yet our spirits wish otherwise. It's like we're victims of our own dichotomies._\n\nAmpryss did not answer, but instead sent a ripple through Denni to let her know she was still there. Denni found her silence disconcerting. Ampryss had never manifested on Earth, not once during all the Embodiments. She would remain at her Great Table on Trisanda, forever welcoming those who visited and offering guidance, but never forcing it upon anyone. Ampryss was the ultimate reality seer, knowing all three levels of history: past, present and future. And yet she refused to become an active part of it. Denni ached for her, wondering if she had ever wished to participate, even once. Witnessing all, but never part of the whole.\n\nShe reached out for a random thought from the Light — from any of the thousands of people she was connected with — and within moments she was able to find the two names she wanted. They were from Saone Lehanna, the woman she had touched in the warehouse. Saone had given her these names freely, as a gift.\n\n_Natianos Lehanna and Janoss Mirades,_ Denni said, keeping her anger in check. _They've visited you, haven't they?_\n\n_Yes,_ Ampryss admitted without guilt. _Yes, they have._\n\nDenni nearly exploded in a tirade of curses and accusations at the mere thought of Ampryss conversing with the enemy, but found the strength to keep herself in check. There was no reason to attack someone whose impartiality was the one thread keeping this delicate situation from unraveling. Her anger was dangerously misplaced, and the spirits around her were starting to respond in kind. She took several deep breaths and calmed herself. _Peace, Love and Light,_ she told them. _I have erred. Do not judge those who may be allies in the future_. _They shall trust you in time._\n\n_Well done,_ Ampryss said. _You have calmed storms using only words and love._\n\n_I have screwed up,_ Denni replied flatly, and grunted. _So...what am I to do now? Somehow I don't think a summit between us all will help matters right now, even if it was at the Meeting Table._\n\n_My table welcomes everyone,_ Ampryss said.\n\nDenni laughed bitterly. If only it were that easy! _For that I thank you, Ampryss. Perhaps after everything has calmed down some. Getting them all together in one place seems like wishful thinking right now. It doesn't seem like the right thing to do just yet._\n\n_You may contact them at any time, you know,_ Ampryss offered. _They will listen._\n\nIt was tempting, but again her soul did not sing out for it. It was not the right time. There were too many variables, too many things that could still go wrong. _I may eventually. The Cleansing Ritual is nearing its end, and I must give my full attention to it. I will contact you when I can, regarding this summit, however. Perhaps within the next few weeks. I'm sure that we all will need time to heal first._\n\nAmpryss laughed. _My Dearest One, your intelligence knows no bounds._\n\n_That's what's so annoying about it,_ she retorted. _Thank you, Ampryss. You've opened my eyes once again. I shall call for you soon. Peace, Love and Light to you._\n\n... _and with you,_ Ampryss said, sending another ripple of Light through Denni's spirit as she exited.\n\nDenni floated in silence for a long time, thinking and meditating, before she decided what the next step would be. She nodded to herself, sent out her own ripple, this time of Love, out to her newly awakened, faithful followers. Her newfound friends. Her soldiers. Her Warriors of the One.\n\n*\n\n\"Ashan...\" Kai whispered. \"I can feel them... _all of them._ \" Eyes blurry with tears, she couldn't keep from staring at the beam of light that shot up from the warehouse. She reached out blindly and caught the sleeve of his shirt, grasping it tightly. \"It's working...by the will of the One, it's working!\"\n\n\"Yes, it is,\" Ashan answered, his voice no louder than hers. He watched the Light energy with his sharpened sight as it condensed itself within the warehouse and soared skyward into the heavens. The storm clouds had dispersed, leaving nothing but an immaculately clear blue sky. All the dormant spirits within the Rain were now part of the _cho-nyhndah._ It was now up to Denni to lead them in the right direction.\n\nKai reached out again with her gossamer thread of conscience to sense as many of the cho-nyhndah as she could. She felt the ripples of excitement from the awakened, sensing their eagerness to live, to take in all the knowledge of spirit that they could, and to follow the One of All Sacred to the ends of the universes. Their euphoric song touched at Kai's very soul, pulling her ever closer in. She loosened her inhibitions and drank in the warmth. She felt anticipation; they were waiting for Denni. They were waiting for orders.\n\n\"Can you feel her?\" Ashan asked.\n\n\"She's very distant...as if she's assimilating into all of the spirits around her. They're just soaking her in.\" Kai let out a small laugh. \"Goddess, she knows more than she's ever let on! She understands... _dehndarra Né hra nyhndah._ \"\n\nAshan broke out of his stare and glanced at her. \"How old is she, anyway? Fifteen?\"\n\nKai frowned in thought. \"Yes, I think so. Why do you ask?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Just an observation. There's a chance she may just remember what she was taught in services when she was young...but it's got to be more than that. She's acquired so much in so little time, and not once has it come back on her. Everything she's done is purely instinctual.\"\n\n_Because it_ is _instinctual,_ Kai said from within. _Though she was born Dennise Johnson, she was reborn Denysia Shalei, the One of All Sacred. It is because of her faith in her followers as well as herself that she does not stray from her own heart._\n\nThe beam of Light caught Kai's attention again. It had begun to pulse, very slowly at once every ten or twelve seconds. Her own instincts had picked the pattern up just as she had caught the pulse in the corner of her eye. Her heart quickened each time it happened. \"Tell me you caught that,\" she said.\n\nAshan hummed in agreement. \"That's new.\"\n\n\"What's happening?\"\n\nHe continued watching the beam, frowning. \"I honestly do not know. I have never seen or heard of a Cleansing beacon pulsating before.\"\n\n\"Nor have I.\"\n\nAshan took a step back and shifted his focus back to Lightseeing. It took him a few tries to focus in on the spirit body rather than the spirit energy, as the former had almost blinded him earlier. Once there he found it harder to stay focused in this different view. He tried again and looked in the direction of the warehouse.\n\nWhat he saw was a delicate play of shapes and hues, bobbing and weaving above the entire area of the hrrah-sehdhyn in what had begun to resemble a spinning galaxy. Each spirit signature, each aura shone in its own degree of color and radiance. They intertwined with one another, creating a complex rainbow of Light, the strength of which he had never seen.\n\n\"They're not gathering anymore,\" he said unevenly. \"They're assimilating.\"\n\n\"What?\" Kai gasped. \"That's impossible!\"\n\n\"See for yourself,\" he said. \"I have no idea what she's doing. None of the others in the same position have ever pulled Warriors of the One together this quickly...let alone in this fashion.\" He exhaled, shaking his head and adjusting his eyes back to normal. \"It's beyond my understanding now.\"\n\nKai shuddered, realizing what that meant. It meant that all the Mendaihu, all the Shenaihu...all psionic sensitives here on this planet were on the verge of a new awakening, one that would surpass those in the past. It meant she had found a threat no one else, not even Nehalé or Natianos, could have expected. It meant this was more than just a war between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu.\n\nShe had decided to awaken everyone on Earth after all.\n\n\"By the Will of the One,\" she said, and found her voice wavering. _We have become enlightened, Ashan. The division of souls is being reversed. She's gone ahead and awakened the Earth. Gharra will return to Trisanda._\n\nAshan did not answer. In the silence she could see him quivering, and for the first time in many years, there were tears in his eyes. He had come to the same conclusion, and he was terrified.\n\n*\n\nAs far as Poe was concerned, it was the end of the world as he knew it.\n\nChristine Gorecki had come to the same conclusion, and in a bit of gallows humor she had pulled out a number of folding chairs and set them up on the roof facing the Moulding Warehouse, giving them front row seats. All conversation had stopped once the beacon of Light appeared, and for Poe it meant he could now wrestle his inner demons on his own, without interruption. Caren had arrived with Anando minutes after she'd signed off the comm, and Nick had just arrived as well. Poe acknowledged their presence with a nod before taking the chair closest to the edge. He got up again seconds later however, his nerves getting the better of him.\n\n_Calm yourself,_ he heard from within. Caren silently walked up to him and took his hand. _This is just a small step._\n\nHe felt a tickling sensation between their touching palms, and immediately his adrenalin level decreased dramatically from its peak just seconds ago. He had felt the same relaxation just days ago on the Crest, when Kai had —\n\nHe stared at her. \"Since when have you been able to soulheal?\" he said, his voice barely a whisper.\n\nShe gave him a satisfied grin. \"It just happened,\" she said.\n\n_It just happened._ A hell of a lot of things had \"just happened\" in the last few hours, come to think of it. This was Caren, who had gone through soulhealing therapy five years ago to deal with the death of her parents, who had trouble falling asleep at night, whose emotions tended to be a jumbled mess, just like his. This was his partner, who had taken the awakening ritual personally and nearly drove herself towards an emotional breakdown. This was Karinna, whose sister was just blocks away, the source of that terrifying beam of Light.\n\nThis was Caren Johnson, calm and balanced, for the first time in her life.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he said quietly, and meant it.\n\n\"It's nearly over,\" she said. \"Once the Cleansing is done, everything will be back to normal.\"\n\nHe nodded, and laughed as a thought struck him. \"You know,\" he said to her. \"Farraway is going to be pissed that we completely failed to apprehend the man who performed that illegal ritual last week. I'm guessing we can kiss that raise goodbye.\"\n\nA giggle escaped from Caren's lips. \"I came so close, Poe! I was as close as you and I, and all I did was yell at him!\" The giggle turned into a laugh. \"Seriously, I should have kicked his ass!\"\n\n\"You were under the influence of your sister,\" he said. \"I'm sure she was holding you back for a good reason.\"\n\nShe elbowed him in the side. \"Yeah, fat lot of good that did. I nearly screwed it up.\"\n\n\"It's true, kid,\" he said. \"I'm serious. We were all affected.\" He smiled as he turned and looked back at the warehouse. The Light had quickened its pulsation. \"I mean that in a good way,\" he added.\n\nCaren brushed a hand over his arm. \"I know you do,\" she said. \"Come on...let's sit down.\"\n\nPoe let out a wavering breath. Relaxed though he was, soulhealing would not deaden the anxiety he still felt. He returned to his chair, Caren taking the seat to his left. Anando sat on the other side of her, leaning forward with hands clasped between his knees. The kid's constant change of position in his chair every thirty seconds or so betrayed his façade. His brain must be on overdrive, trying to calculate what would unfold next.\n\nAfter a few quiet moments, he glanced over at the two of them again. Anando's presence had an extremely positive effect on Caren, there was no doubting that. She'd been fascinated by his name just days ago, but she'd never explained why. There as a connection there, one he couldn't quite grasp, but he could sense it. It was comforting, seeing her at peace like this...she deserved it. If he truly was her cho-shadhisi, then she truly was blessed.\n\nAnando sensed his attention and met his eyes briefly before returning to the Light. Though Anando said nothing, Poe could tell the man had anticipated questions. He shifted slightly in his chair to face him.\n\n_You wish to know about the Light,_ he said from within.\n\nPoe nodded. It hadn't been his primary thought at the moment, but that question had indeed been bothering him ever since it had appeared.\n\n_This beacon functions the same way the Rain of Light did,_ Anando said. _We're seeing this Light because it is stronger than usual...it's infused with the Light of the One of All Sacred._\n\nPoe nodded. \"Where is it going?\"\n\nAnando grinned. \"Funny you should ask that,\" he said. \"Ever read Kelley James' poetry?\"\n\n\"No,\" he replied. \"The former CNF Councillor, you mean?\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Great statesman, brilliant peacekeeper...but also an extremely talented writer. There's a line in one of my favorite poems of his that I think nails it: _hitting the roof of heaven and raining right back down._ He'd meant it as a reference to the early days of Earth's new awakening centuries ago, but in this case...\" He nodded towards the warehouse. \"The Light is going to rain back down on us. All of us. The entire planet.\"\n\nPoe winced at him. \"The entire...from just five thousand people and one teenage girl? I find that a little hard to believe.\"\n\n\"Put that way, sure,\" Anando smirked. \"I wouldn't believe it myself. But the five thousand people are cho-nyhndah, twin-spirited Warriors of the One, the Light is full of millions of awakened spirits...and the teenage girl is the One of All Sacred herself. A goddess and her army.\"\n\nPoe shivered. \"For what battle, though? Isn't this supposed to balance the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu?\"\n\n\"Eventually,\" Anando he said. \"But there's more to it than just balance, Alec. She must know this, if she's gone this far to awaken everybody on the entire planet.\"\n\nWords died on his lips. He glanced at Caren, astonished by her lack of concern. In fact, by the look on her face, she felt nothing but pride right now. Perhaps he needed to rethink this...perhaps he needed to understand just how dire the situation had to be in order for Denni — for the One — to do something this drastic. He was cho-nyhndah himself, yet he did not understand.\n\nAnando had returned to looking at the beacon of Light with avid interest. Though its luminosity gave the surrounding area a whitish glow, it was still muted enough that it could be watched with the naked eye. If Poe concentrated enough, over the sound of stalled traffic and hushed voices, he could just make out the beacon's slow rumble.\n\n_Wake up,_ he thought to himself, to the twin spirits he held within. He felt no response, however, and his barely concealed agitation began to reappear. He ignored it by reaching into his uniform and taking out a cigarette. He didn't light it right away, deciding to twirl it between his fingers instead.\n\n_I give you Peace, Love and Light,_ he called out to Denni, wondering if she could hear him. _I'm proud of you, kid. I may not really know what you're doing...but I trust you. Know that I love you, Den._\n\nHe almost didn't feel the faint ripple of energy washing through him in response. But the ripple started to expand, doubling then tripling in its intensity. It expanded a fourth time, so intense he could barely contain it. There was no question...she _had_ heard him.\n\n_Thank you, Alec..._ she said. _I love you too._\n\n\"...Denni...\" he whispered, so low that not even Caren heard him.\n\nThe wash of energy — of Love — crested, and then slowly ebbed until it remained only as a subtle pleasant reminder. He knew Denni well enough that she would have hidden a secret note for him somewhere in that wash if she'd wanted, and most likely did. He'd look for it in time. He relaxed for the first time in days and smiled, wiping tears away.\n\n*\n\nFor the first time in her life, Sheila Kennedy knew she was truly at peace. She no longer felt the hard concrete of the floor below her, nor did she feel the cooling breeze at her back that came through the open dock doors. Instead she felt the vague sensation of floating above the city. She opened her eyes, tears bleeding from the corners, and knew instantly that she was seeing with Lighted sight...the heightened senses and perceptions of everything around her, entering her mind and her cho-nyhndah spirit with a new radiance she had never before experienced.\n\nShe chanced a look down, and recognized the Waterfront area immediately. She frowned at the blind spot in her vision that obscured Moulding's Warehouse, which lay directly below. She was outside and above with the others from the warehouse, nearly half a mile up and still climbing.\n\n_You are a Protector,_ a young, bodiless female voice called to her. _I know you. You are one of Karinna's closest friends. She cherishes the friendship, but only recently has she been able to show that to you again._\n\nSheila wavered. Denni? Pashyo, that was Denni talking to her right now! She sounded so different, so mature! She shivered, first with awe, then with delight as she called out to her, thanking her profusely for accepting her into the fold.\n\n_No need to thank me,_ she laughed. _I should be the one thanking you. You've sacrificed so much to become a Warrior of the One. Peace, Love and Light to you, Sheila Kennedy._\n\nSheila opened her mouth to speak, but found no words. This young girl she loved and watched grow up over the last ten years, all this was her doing! The reality of it all was too much. She felt her body sway and tremble, and it took nearly all of her own energy to maintain her position.\n\n\"Why are we here?\" Sheila called out.\n\nYou, Sheila, are here to protect not only me but also my followers. You're in good company...you will remain close with Alec Poe and my sister.\n\nThere were words unspoken here. \"Denni, what's happening?\"\n\nThe nuhm'ndah and the kiralla. They have returned.\n\nGoddess, if that were true...! \"Are you sure?\"\n\n_Quite,_ she said softly. _I've sensed them for some time. You should know who they are, Sheila. You were at St. Patrick's yesterday._\n\nThe shiver turned into a steady tremble. \"Oh Goddess...\" she whispered. \"Then...then the nuhm'ndah weren't Shenaihu at all...\"\n\n_Those in charge_ were _in fact Shenaihu,_ Denni said. _But those who broke through Reverend Miriam's barrier...they are the ones we must watch. They're the primal spirits, the original, pure spirits. They're strong, Sheila. Incredibly strong, even more so than anyone realizes. They want something...but I don't know what it is._\n\nShe looked down at her hands; they were shaking terribly. She held herself tightly and felt the world below her fading and evaporating into white. Into Light. She'd dreamed about this place, this otherwhere that she never completely understood, yet had wholly trusted it with her heart and her spirit. This Light was a sanctuary for souls, a middle ground between spiritual and physical realities. The Light curled around her body, warming her, soothing her. Cradling her.\n\n\"...I'm afraid,\" she whimpered.\n\n_Don't be,_ she soothed. _You are a Warrior of the One, and a Mendaihu Gharra, Protector of Earth. You'll have the strength. It is why you decided to join me, Sheila._\n\n\"I joined to get some questions answered,\" Sheila started, felt her words too harsh, and started over, slower and calmer. \"I joined because I felt the need, Denni. Not because of any overwhelming devotion to the One of All Sacred. That's all I can say. It was purely an instinctual move in the spiritual sense.\"\n\nBecause your soul sang to you.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n_An even better reason,_ Denni hummed.\n\n\"I only wish that Nick were here. Or Caren.\"\n\nI wish Karinna were here as well...but her fate is different than mine. I will not go against that merely because I want her here.\n\nSheila looked around the air tentatively. \"And what is Caren's fate?\"\n\nShe is the Protector of the One. The closest one to me, in spirit and body, and she's my focus point for it all. I cannot risk losing her. That isn't to say I'll risk losing you, Sheila...far from it. As both Warrior and Mendaihu Gharra, you fulfill the dual role of...well, intelligence, I suppose. I need you here to witness it all. You are Mendaihu, my friend. You always have been.\n\nSheila nearly argued that point, but stopped herself. Denni was right; she had always known, somewhere in her own spirit, of her True Self, yet for many and varied reasons she always refused to completely believe it. She was first and foremost Sheila Kennedy, a female member of the human race living on Earth. She would never forget that, regardless of who she was spiritually.\n\n_I admire you, Sheila,_ Denni said. _You know yourself better than others would. That is your strongest form of protection._\n\nShe shuddered at the idea and pushed it away. It was several minutes before either of them spoke again, though she could still feel Denni's presence. She was literally everywhere. She could sense the young girl's boundless spiritual energy reaching out, web-like, over the entire city, and making its way to each horizon, without hesitation or depletion of strength.\n\n\"How do you do that?\" she asked.\n\nDo what?\n\n\"I don't know...reach like that. It's as if you're a soulhealer in the most extreme sense.\"\n\nDenni laughed. _Perk of the job, maybe? I'm not pushing myself, but I'm not holding back either. I'm just...setting it free, without any boundaries._ After a moment she added: _I still don't know how I've become so omniscient, either._\n\n\"Can't be a deity if you aren't, kid,\" she said. Denni was years ahead of everyone else in maturity...and yet so young and naïve at the same time...\n\nIt's strange...I thought I'd be overwhelmed by all this information at my disposal. I'm just not conscious of everything all at once. It's like I hold the keys to everyone's Akashic library.\n\nSheila cocked an eyebrow, amused by the obscure reference. There was truth in Denni's words; in the many religions on this planet, and under many names and versions, the Akashic library was the spiritual collection of every person's memories, thoughts, actions and emotions, over many lives and universes. It was a living, ever growing temple of the soul. Perhaps Denni was right...maybe she could tap into this resource after all.\n\n\"So what happens now?\" Sheila asked after another long silence.\n\nWe awaken everybody else.\n\nSheila frowned. \"That's it?\"\n\nThat's all I can do, for now. The nuhm'ndah and the kiralla are spirits I cannot read or control.\n\n\"How very sacrilegious of you to say that, Denni,\" she smirked. \"So you aren't fully omniscient?\"\n\nDenni let out a frustrated sigh. _I can't explain it very well, Sheila. They're...I want to say that they're a heightened version of us, maybe an alternate one. All I know is that they did not evolve here on this planet, and that they are much stronger than the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu. I'm not even sure of their origin. It's...maybe they're from an alternate Trisanda._\n\n\"That doesn't make sense!\"\n\n_Of course it makes sense, Sheila,_ she countered. _Did you think this was the only universe in existence?_\n\nSheila blushed and didn't answer.\n\nI'm sorry. Didn't mean to scold you like that. But now that I'm here in this otherwhere again, amongst all this Light, I've been thinking. It's been about twenty-five years since the last Embodiment, yes?\n\n\"Just about,\" Sheila said. Suddenly and unexpectedly her body quivered, sinking down then lifting up again, as if she'd just temporarily slipped out of Denni's grasp. It unnervingly like an earthquake tremor, and it scared the hell out of her. \"What the hell was that?\" she yelped. She wavered in the air again, drooping much lower that time. \"Denni?\"\n\nI...I don't...this isn't the Dahné. I'm not sure what this is—\n\nHer body began to fall again. This time, she did not stop.\n\n\"Oh Goddess...Denni!\"\n\nSheila! What's going—?\n\nDenni cried out in pain and suddenly she was gone.\n\nSheila could not feel her anymore. She could not feel anyone. She was no longer within the Light, either. She was back in reality, hovering in the sky above Bridgetown, completely alone.\n\n\"Denni!\"\n\n...falling.\n\n\" _Denni!\"_\n\nThere was absolutely no way of saving herself. The blind spot below her had vanished, revealing the rectangular flat roof of Moulding Warehouse, the exact target where she would die horribly and violently within the next few seconds.\n\n_Denysia,_ she cried into the silence, her body gone completely limp. The spirits surrounding her had vanished, leaving her utterly alone. _Denysia..._\n\nDenni, sweetest Denni...where are you...?\n\nCHAPTER THIRTY\n\n_dehndarra Né hra nyhndah_\n\n\"Perfect,\" Natianos said, clasping his hands behind his back.\n\nThe beacon of Light stuttered, sputtered, and vanished out of existence within a few seconds, leaving the city in an unsettling silence. He cast a sensing thread over the immediate area to gauge the reaction; the overwhelming feeling was that of shock and dread. Too early to tell if anyone would take action after that, but he doubt anyone would want to, not after that spectacle. He and the One of All Sacred had both come to the same unspoken conclusion: for every action, there was an opposite reaction. He had to shut down what Nehalé had started. It was the only way to do it right. The only way to do it justice.\n\nThis young Embodiment was more intelligent than he'd expected her to be. This season was going to be interesting.\n\nHe turned to Janoss, who'd remained at his side during it all. The color had drained from his face, the creases in his forehead and near his eyes folding into deep furrows. \"What...just happened?\" Janoss muttered. \"I know you'd sent out a hell of a lot of energy just a few minutes ago, but...was that supposed to happen? Wasn't the beacon supposed to, I don't know...fade, instead of die out like that?\"\n\n\"I did two things, Janoss,\" he said quietly. \"The Cleansing ritual was completed by way of my willing it closed, which you witnessed yourself. And in a much more dignified way than Nehalé and his Awakening, I should add. I only had to connect to the spirits and direct them to stop, with a little help. And in doing so, an Ascension was neatly corrupted. I couldn't let the young One make a move I consider hasty. I merely caused a Fall.\"\n\nJanoss nodded slowly. \"Angel metaphors,\" he said, and cocked an eyebrow at him. \"You didn't pull her wings off then, did you?\"\n\nNatianos chuckled. \"No, Janoss, I didn't. I merely clipped them a bit. I'm sure they'll grow back.\"\n\nFather!\n\nSaone's voice invaded his thoughts with a vengeance. He pushed her anger away just as quickly. _Not now, Saone,_ he responded. _Be patient._\n\nFather, hear me!\n\nAnother wave of anger tore out of him, stronger this time. _Not now!_\n\nSilence lingered in their spiritual link, Saone no doubt wanting to fight back but knowing better than that. After a few seconds he felt her grudging acceptance. She left wordlessly and did not call again.\n\nJanoss finally turned from the window, the color returning to his face. He took a tentative step towards the long couches, then another. Finally he paused in front of one, hand up near his mouth as if to speak, thought better of it, shook his head and sat down instead, his back to Natianos. Clearly the man was starting to have second thoughts about their place in all these rituals, and he couldn't blame him. Eventually Janoss dropped heavily onto the couch and sulked.\n\n\"I have to admit,\" Natianos said, remaining at the window. \"I can't help but worry about my youngest daughter, Janoss. You remember Saone, don't you? Wonderful girl...though she's more rebellious than I'd like. I'd rather she not be a casualty if it comes to it.\"\n\nJanoss did not answer.\n\n\"Anyway,\" he continued. \"She's down there at the warehouse. Did she get caught up in the Cleansing? Was she part of the Ascension? Was she even part of the Awakening, and is she now cho-nyhndah? Who knows? It's out of my hands, Janoss. She is my daughter, but I do not own her spirit. And certainly dear Saone is old enough to live with her own decisions. I just hope she chose wisely.\" Finally turning away from the city, he faced Janoss again. The man was still stewing in his own juices, arms crossed and stuck in his thoughts. \"No barriers here, Janoss,\" he said, joining him on the opposite couch. \"What's on your mind?\"\n\nCould he be having a crisis of faith? The mere thought surprised him. Janoss had gone in and orchestrated a bloodbath at St. Patrick's Church just yesterday, and had done so without hesitation. Why did he feel troubled at this point? Certainly not guilt...he was not a weak man. He would accept the outcome of his own actions, one way or another.\n\n\"Something's...not right,\" Janoss said eventually. There was no emotion in his words. \"Nyhnd'aladh, my Dahné, but I don't think we should have done that. Not so soon.\"\n\nNatianos bristled. \"So soon? What are you talking about? That was the _perfect_ time. Had she achieved full Ascension right then, this struggle would have ended before it even began. She was trying to awaken everyone.\"\n\nJanoss exhaled again. \"I know...\"\n\n\"Everyone,\" he repeated with more force. \"Everyone on this blessed planet!\"\n\n\"I understand, Natianos,\" he snapped.\n\nNatianos shook his head impatiently and leaned forward in his seat. \"You don't, Janoss, not completely,\" he said. \"That's the problem. What would have happened, then? The nuhm'ndah and the kiralla would be a moot point, that's what. Our beliefs, our lives, our _heritage_ would have been wiped clean.\"\n\n\"But...the cho-nyhndah—\"\n\n\"...is a myth, Janoss!\" he said, waving a frustrated hand in the air. \"Where is the balance if it exists in the body of one person? Each person's spirit would be exactly the same! This is why I did what I did, do you not see that? The cho-nyhndah have indeed awakened. The people of this world are on the verge of awakening to their Trisandi heritage, just like those here in our city. But the cho-nyhndah, the true twin spirits, still remain a small percentage.\"\n\n\"...to maintain the balance,\" Janoss said, eyeing him. \"With the awakened.\"\n\n\"Precisely,\" he said with finality. _Now_ he understood.\n\n\"And what of the One?\" Janoss asked.\n\n\"Dennise Johnson?\" he smirked. \"She's a fifteen year old girl from Berndette Corner. She might have most of the One's abilities, and she shows quite a high intelligence that some of our previous Embodiments may have lacked...but she's still learning. She's far from ready to lead right now.\"\n\nJanoss nodded slowly. \"I see.\"\n\n\"That's why I caused the Fall,\" he continued. \"If the One had ascended at this moment, knowing only half the truth from the Mendaihu, and hardly anything at all about the Shenaihu, the war would have been lost from the beginning. She would have shunned us all eventually, put us back in our cages before we could even ascend ourselves.\"\n\nJanoss grinned at the turn of phrase. \"Are you sure you she'd _shun_ us? Come on. She would have given up, just like all the other Embodiments.\"\n\nNatianos shrugged after a moment. \"Maybe so...but the outcome would have been the same. The effects of the ritual would fade, and we'd be back to square one. No further to our goals, once again frustrated and lost until the next Embodiment came along a quarter century later.\"\n\nJanoss nodded, and did not speak again. They both sat in silence for a long time afterwards, each with vastly different ideas of what that regression would have entailed. Eventually, Janoss left to return to his own office without saying a word. Natianos stood up again and returned to the window. He looked out over the Sprawl, a smile slowly crossing his face.\n\nHis reverie was short-lived as soon as Saone called again. _Father, I demand your attention!_\n\n_Speak, child,_ he said with all the patience he could muster. _I am listening._\n\nHe felt her anger and disappointment in cascading waves, and had expected as much. Once again she had gone in not knowing the full extent of the consequences, joining with the One of All Sacred as she did. She had tried to win his trust and his faith in her, and had utterly failed.\n\n_Father..._ she said. _What the hell have you done?_\n\n_I have kept our heritage alive, Saone._ He left it at that. He did not want to have to explain his actions all over again. _You are nuhm'ndah, Saone. You are_ not _Mendaihu._\n\n_I am cho-nyhndah,_ she said defiantly. _I am not the daughter you once knew._\n\n_You are no such thing_ , he growled. _Look deep within and see the truth for once. Stop lying to yourself._\n\nSaone's waves of anger faltered, giving way to confusion.\n\nYou are Saone Lehanna si Oktanis si Alnaisu, a pure Shenaihu nuhm'ndah through three spiritual clan threads. You are capable of many things, Saone, but you cannot disown your heritage. It is what you are.\n\n_Damn you,_ Saone growled at him. _Damn you, father! Why have you done this?_\n\nNatianos sighed out of frustration. _You are free to follow any wind of doctrine you wish to follow. That restriction I cannot force upon you. I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself, madin. The choice is yours._\n\n_That's..._ she started. Her faith in herself had already started to wane. _I cannot choose on a moment's notice!_\n\nHe chuckled despite himself. _It did not seem that way when you met with the One of All Sacred._\n\nShe did not answer for a long time after that. He had become used to these long pauses in their spiritual conversations. _I am still your father, Saone,_ he reminded. _I am still here for you spiritually. But do know that I shall no longer welcome you in this house until you embrace your nuhm'ndah heritage._\n\nYou—\n\n_Enough,_ he snapped. _No more talk of this!_\n\n_Damn you, father,_ she cried. _Don't do this—_\n\nNo more!\n\nWith that, he effectively shut off all spiritual communication with her. If she would not return to the fold now, then she would not be welcomed again. He had prepared himself for this ever since his eldest daughter had come of age, and so he did not feel the slightest bit guilty in disowning her. The nuhm'ndah heritage was not something to be taken lightly. It was a sacred following that deserved the same kind of permanence as the Mendaihu. If she could not embrace it, then she was not deserving of it.\n\n_I do love you, Saone,_ he thought. _But you are no longer Lehanna madin._\n\nNo longer my youngest daughter.\n\n*\n\nSheila...wake up, dear.\n\nShe woke up, seconds, maybe minutes after she had passed out. She was no longer falling...but she had no idea what had happened. She felt someone's arms around her, holding her closely and whispering calming words into her ear. She opened her eyes and saw...stars?\n\n_What —?_ The dryness in her throat tickled a gagging reflex and she began coughing violently. She came close to vomiting twice before she got herself under control and began to breathe again. Disoriented, she started to move out of the woman's grasp, tried standing up, and immediately tumbled. She braced herself for a hard crash to the floor...and felt nothing.\n\n_Steady, girl,_ the woman said, grasping her shoulders from behind. _Steady, now. Shhhh...I have you. You're safe, dear. You are among friends._\n\n_Dead,_ she thought. _I should be dead!_ With a sickening rush, images of the fall invaded her mind. She staggered, tripped over her own foot, and fell again, though this time she anticipated it and rode with it. She and her guardian tumbled slowly and gracefully in this otherwhere. She breathed in deeply and slowly, whispering her own calming mantras, until her heart slowed to a quieter, safer pace. Her throat no longer parched, she took several more deep breaths until she was both centered and fully aware. Seconds passed before she felt the hardness of an imaginary floor underneath her feet, put there to calm her balance.\n\n_Welcome back, Sheila,_ the woman said behind her.\n\nSheila turned to thank her, and nearly fainted again at the sight of Denysia — no, it was not her but an older, more mature, and strikingly beautiful Denni. She was draped in a loose and flowing dusk-colored robe with a formfitting black bodysuit underneath — the uniform of Elders of the One of All Sacred. She appeared as old as Caren now, her youthful features still there but worn by time and action. Her brown eyes still sparkled with fascination and her high cheekbones framed a wide, addictive smile. She looked so much like her mother Celine! She beamed at Sheila as if she hadn't seen her for decades, the reunion filling her with joy.\n\n_Denni?_ Sheila blinked at her. _Is...is that you?_\n\n_I am the One of All Sacred,_ she replied. _And I am Denysia._\n\nShe shivered, understanding her words all too clearly. All this time, they had seen her as the young teenage Denni, with the spirit of the One within her...a young girl with a special power within her. The woman before her now was the same Denni, but vastly changed. This woman was no longer the Denni she knew...this was the One of all Sacred, in both spirit and body. The Daughter of the Goddess. A goddess herself...!\n\nShe felt weak. This woman so like Denni in so many ways...this woman, revered and sainted, who now stood in front of her, who had caught her, who had saved her life. The One of All Sacred had heard her cries for help as she fell. She had answered her prayers.\n\nShe was talking to a savior. _Her_ savior.\n\nWeakened and humbled, Sheila fell to her knees, tears forming in her eyes. She bowed her head deeply and dared not look this beautiful woman in the eyes again, no matter how much she resembled Denni. She admittedly had not been a devout Follower of the One...but in her presence, all doubt had escaped. She believed.\n\n_The One...the One of All Sacred,_ she sobbed _... dehndarra Né hra nyhndah_. It had been the only thing she knew to say to her at this moment.\n\nShe heard the One let out an embarrassed giggle. Denni's self-conscious yet amused laugh. At the corner of her sight, Sheila saw the robes fold to the floor as she knelt down and touched her again, this time a palm at the top of her head.\n\n_Stand up, Sheila,_ she said warmly, and brushed Sheila's unruly auburn hair out of her face. She held out her other hand under Sheila's lowered eyes. She stared at it fearfully, pursed her quivering lips, and took it. Warm, inviting. Calm. Loving. She did not let go as she stood up. Despite her fears, she found herself staring at the One again, completely entranced. Why...why did she look so old now? Why did she bring her here? She yipped in surprise; suddenly they were moving again, floating towards the starfield she'd seen earlier.\n\n_Let me show you something,_ she said.\n\n_I am yours,_ Sheila responded.\n\n_Look out there,_ she said, pointing at the starfield. _What do you see?_\n\nShe stared out into the heavens. Light and energy from such immense distances she could not even fathom. An expanse of life so vast it frightened her as much as it had humbled her. _I see...a universe,_ she said. And in that universe, she found herself drawn to one point in particular. A smudge of light, a cluster of white energy and life, no different than all the other starfields she could see if she spun around to look, and yet she'd immediately felt a kinship with them, a connection that made more sense than anything else at the moment. In this impossible vision she knew to be the universal reality she lived within, here on Earth — on _Gharra_ — she focused on that one elsewhere because it had called out to her. So far away, a frightening distance away...yet so close! The gathering of stars had called her true name, a string of Light that had resonated within her own spirit and made it sing out. The starfield began to revolve in a strange and predetermined pattern she could not quite comprehend. It was only with another shift of focus that she began to see that pattern. The circular, pulsating revolution of an infinite number of stars revealed itself to her, as simple as a circle but impossibly complex as a...\n\n_I see a galaxy,_ she said, her heart beating fast.\n\nThe One of All Sacred nodded. _You see Lightbodies, dear. This is their true ancestral home._\n\nSheila frowned in confusion. _Trisanda?_\n\nThe One smiled, amused. _That is but one of a myriad of planets. As is Gharra — Earth. As is Meraladh, as is Mannaka. Trisanda is just the birthplace of a Lightbody within a human form. Right now you are seeing just the cluster of Lightbodies that originated from Trisanda. There is so much more, however...so much more than just what you see!_ She pointed towards the galaxy of Lightbodies proudly, as if they were her own creation. The intensity of emotion swirled within the One and within the spiritual galaxy. Sheila began to absorb this energy drunkenly.\n\n_There is Love,_ The One said. _There has always been love; there will always be love, no question. What_ we _all decide to do with it is completely up to us._ She took Sheila's face in her hands again, looking her in the eyes.\n\n_Therein lies our fate,_ she continued. _Do we continue to keep the nuhm'ndah and the kiralla at bay, or do we reach out with compassion and lead them on the path to rebirth?_\n\n_I..._ Sheila bowed again. _I want to believe in compassion, Dearest One._\n\nThe One smiled at her, and together they began to float again, away from one galaxy and towards another. The celestial spheres around her shifted in place and time, some flashing out of existence, others born in a spectacular billowing forth of gases, radiation and Light.\n\n_Compassion you shall have,_ she said. She moved close, kissed her on the forehead, and nodded. _You know who I am and who my counterpart is. I spoke truth earlier...you are chosen as a protector and as a witness, but I ask one more thing: that you help Dearest Karinna with your life in guarding Denysia._\n\nSheila frowned. _What do you mean?_\n\n_Surely you understand,_ she said. _I am the One of All Sacred._\n\nYou're Denni as well...aren't you?\n\nThe One nodded. _I am she and she is me...dehndarra Né hra nyhndah, Sheila. I cannot exist without her, and she cannot exist without me._\n\nThey paused before another galaxy, this one much larger in size and shining so brilliantly she could hear its energy singing. Its luminescence nearly blinded her. The Lightbodies here were the strongest she had seen, so strong she felt the energy pulsating from its center and rushing towards her. She felt herself drawn to this energy, pulled ever so gently with both her heart and her spirit. Her entire being sensed a feeling of warmth, of _home_ within this galaxy. It was...?\n\n_That is your galaxy,_ The One said. _They are the Chosen, the Awakened._\n\nSheila caught her breath. _This...this isn't...now, is it?_\n\n_This is approximately twenty-five years on, Sheila,_ The One smiled.\n\nShe gazed her, fascinated and terrified at the same time. _Why are you telling me this?_\n\nThe One waved a hand at the galaxy. As if in response, the Lightbodies reflected her gesture in a sparkling display of multihued excitement. _They are yours, Sheila,_ she continued. _Help to lead them. Help guide the nuhm'ndah and the kiralla towards rebirth. I offer my love to you, Dearest child; it is the Light you see before you. But above all else...watch over Denni...watch over me. And watch over Karinna. Be sure she stays true to her spirit, Sheila._\n\nSheila shivered. _I shall...I shall._\n\nThey looked at each other once again and embraced. So warm, so calm...it felt so wonderful! To be here, to be at peace. With a slight wave of the One's hand, Sheila suddenly felt herself losing sensory consciousness as the One of All Sacred faded from view. She was returning to the Moulding Warehouse, back to her real, mortal body. For a brief second, she wanted to cry out, to ask her all the questions in her head, yet she knew there was no need.\n\nShe still had Denni.\n\n_Sa'im taftika,_ she called out to the One of All Sacred. _Bless you._\n\nBack to Gharra, back to life.\n\n*\n\nThe beacon of Light blinked out of existence, leaving such an ominous quiet in the air it screamed in Poe's ears. Ten different thoughts immediately surged through his mind in a maddening blur; questions about the safety of the Warriors, about the Protectors...and most of all, questions about Denni.\n\n_Denysia,_ he called out, hoping to get a response. He did not get one.\n\nDenni?\n\nNothing.\n\n\"Oh Goddess, no...\" Caren gasped, a trembling hand covering her mouth. She reached out with her other hand and grabbed Poe's jacket sleeve, pulling it tight within her fist. _Those bastards,_ she growled within. _Those fucking bastards! They did it!_\n\n\"No, Caren,\" he whispered in the silence. \"You don't know that.\"\n\n_They did it..._ she repeated. He could feel the walls of her psyche crumbling all around her, the protective walls of her own soul, falling away like weak twigs in a strong wind, and she did not have the strength or the heart to defend herself. He reached out and put a hand over hers; her grip had already slackened enough that it was on the verge of falling dead away in defeat. He tried to send his own comforting energy over to her, and failed pathetically. He truly had no idea if he had actually done it, only relying on instinct and a nearly forgotten healing sequence. She halfheartedly tried to pull away, but it was too late. Her head dropped. She had given in.\n\n\"Don't you _dare_ give up that easily,\" Poe said quietly but sternly into her ear, doubling it with the same inner voice he'd used earlier. \"You're not weak, Karinna. Don't believe you've lost her until you know for sure.\"\n\nPoe heard her throw a weak curse at him, and ignored it. He kept it up until she returned to her true self again. Anando was useless right now; he continued to stare slackjawed at the empty sky above the warehouse. He couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed, had not expected it, and had no idea what would happen next. Poe sensed an overwhelming fear within him, and understood completely. Those within the warehouse were indeed safe, but spiritually...\n\n...spiritually, he truly did not know if the One of All Sacred had survived.\n\n\"You come back to me, Karinna,\" he said, raising his voice, but still close. \"You give up now...?\" He exhaled unevenly and closed his eyes. He knew she was going to despise him deeply after what he was about to say. He wouldn't blame her if she never talked to him again, professionally or otherwise. He hated himself for having to take this step. But there was no other way now. He took another breath and opened his eyes again. He took Caren's tear-stained face in his hands and pulled it towards him until they were eye to eye. They connected fully and completely, spirit to spirit, on equal grounds.\n\n_Forgive me, Karinna_.\n\n\"Caren? Listen to me,\" he said. \"You give up now, Karinna, and you've given up on your entire family. Aram...Celine...and especially Denni. You can't do this.\"\n\nCaren stared at him, wide eyed. \"A-Alec...\"\n\nIt killed him to say that, and he would never forgive himself. But he did not dare look away. He was the anchor now, the only one left.\n\n_Alec..._ she cried from within.\n\nFinally he felt something stir in Caren's spirit. Something harsh...something buried deep within, so hidden they had never known it was there before now. Something dark and sinister, something so black in devoid of Light that it terrified both of them. A solitary tear fell from her eye. Her lips started to quiver.\n\n\"Karinna —\" he started.\n\nIn one quick move, she pulled out of his grasp and punched him in the face, sending him flailing backwards. She had not held back; in fact, she had used the strength of both her Mendaihu and Shenaihu power and had nearly knocked him senseless. The side of his face instantly went numb and he tasted blood. It took all his energy not to pass out.\n\n\" _Go to hell!_ \" she screamed, and let out a primal wail. She jumped out of her chair and headed towards the metal railing at the edge of the roof. She moved incredibly fast, determined to get past that barrier at any cost, even if she had to force her way through it. Instead she purposely crashed into it and doubled over, the metal bar hitting her squarely in the stomach. She let out a strangled gasp of pain. As if she hadn't been satisfied enough, she backed up and did it again, hitting railing even harder this time. She let out a primal howl of physical and emotional pain.\n\nHeartbroken, Poe ran dizzily to her, instantly at her side. He reached out a hand to touch her, only to have it violently swatted away. She was choking tears as she pushed herself against the railing, as if she were intent on breaking her ribs. He reached out again, this time with the threads of his spirit...and felt _fire_. A deep-seated, raging hatred that had never been released before, it consumed Caren's spirit whole. It tore her apart viciously and relentlessly, and it horrified him. He backed away to a safe distance again. He glanced over at Christine, who only stared back at him with a vague, unreadable expression. She had lit a cigarette, and now took a very slow, long drag from it. He turned back to Caren, only to find her inching away from him, sliding further down the railing.\n\n\"Get away from me,\" she hissed.\n\n\"Damn it, Caren!\" he pleaded, stepping close again. \"What the hell are you doing to yourself?\"\n\n\"I'm not giving up, you damned D'haff Sshalé!\" she shouted, whirling around again and pushing him away, nearly knocking him over again. \"I'm not giving up! Are you fucking happy now?\" She gasped for air as she trembled, tears still flowing. \"I'm not giving up. I never said I was. Just...give me this, Poe, damn it all. Give me this one thing _._ I know you have faith in me. Please...let me have this. I need to...I need...\"\n\nPoe shuddered, the full force of her words and the revelation hitting him deep. It was not healing she had needed all these years...it was release! She'd held this energy for so long, this white fire and black energy, and had refused to ever let it escape. She had denied herself this one thing for five long years, and she could no longer hold it all in anymore. He knew exactly what was coming next. In the corner of his eye, he saw Anando stand up and move towards them. Poe held out a hand and he jerked to a stop.\n\n\"Sit down, you,\" Poe barked. \"This is between me and Caren.\"\n\n\"It's bigger than that, Alec. It's between _all of us,_ \" Anando said, standing his ground. \"This is Caren's choice, and hers alone.\"\n\n\" _Her_ choice?\" he frowned. \"What choice are we talking about, Anando?\"\n\n_Faith_ , he said from within.\n\n_Faith,_ Caren repeated. She wiped at her eyes and cheeks, and she was still in deep pain...but something had changed. Poe felt it now; there was some new, even stronger emotion that had hidden itself under all that intense anger and had finally surfaced, radiating within Caren as brightly as a supernova.\n\n\"I am Mendaihu,\" she said to him, softly this time. So calm. \"But I am also cho-nyhndah. Which means I am Shenaihu as well, Poe. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"But...\" he managed.\n\n_Faith in the Light,_ Caren said from within.\n\n... _and faith in oneself,_ Anando said.\n\nAll at once, it made clear, disturbing sense to Poe as well.\n\n\"Come,\" Anando said, and took her hand.\n\n\"Where are —\" Poe started. A flash of light and a near-silent _whoosh_ of displaced air formed in front of him. He lifted up his arm by instinct, yet the flash had already disappeared. He stared, eyes wide, at the spot where Anando had once been, then where Caren had stood. They had stepped into the Light, into the otherwhere. Into the unknown middle ground.\n\n_Caren..._ he called out. He felt the lump in his throat and tried to force it back down, yet he could not. A tear formed in his left eye. He did not wipe it away.\n\n_Karinna..._ he said again from within. _I am sorry. I should not have said—_\n\n_No apologies,_ he heard, and shivered. Her inner voice, her True voice, was so clear, so calm and true to her spirit. It sang to him. _You were right, Alec. I am the one to apologize. All these years...I should have accepted this sooner. I was just afraid...afraid to face who I was...who I am._\n\nIn spite of himself and his swelling cheek, he laughed. His shame had been replaced by an intense pride for her. _Where are you?_\n\n_Within the Light,_ she said. _Same thing my dad did. Ironic, isn't it? Anando and I went in to find some answers. And maybe find Denni. I think I know where she is. Don't worry, we'll be back soon enough._\n\n_How—_ he bit at his lip and frowned.\n\nI'll explain later. And hey — remember this: you're my sehnadha, Alec. Practically my spirit twin. I don't know what I'd have done all these years without you.\n\nThe furrows in his face eased. Slowly, a smile crossed his face.\n\n_Peace, Love and Light to you, Karinna Shalei,_ he said.\n\n... _and to you, my dearest friend,_ she answered, and was gone.\n\n\"...Goddess,\" he exhaled, and rubbed at his eyes. Fatigue tore at his body and his mind, but a tremendous weight had been lifted. A hard-earned sense of relief washed over him. The Awakening, the Cleansing, the corrupted Ascension...the case itself! It was all over, at least for the time being. All he needed to do now was go back to his apartment and wait for Caren and Anando to return. There was nothing more for him to do. Nothing but get some blessed rest.\n\nOff in the distance to the southwest, the Mirades Tower shot up over the surrounding buildings, the eternal vigil. He watched it for a few seconds as a civilian instead of the profiler that he was, attempting to accept the behemoth as the center of commerce, for the economic shrine that it was. He wanted to accept it, but his conscience told him otherwise, without fail. It was an unexplainable dread he felt, something he'd dismissed so often in the past as nerves, which kept him from giving anyone in that building the benefit of the doubt. It ebbed and flowed within him now, pulling him towards the Tower. If he tried, he could ride those waves with ease, as he had been there before, to that spiritual darkness within.\n\nThat was something he did not want to remember.\n\nWhy now? Why did he feel this dread _now_? Was it because of the nuhm'ndah or the kiralla? Or because of his cho-nyhndah spirit?\n\nHe chose to ignore those questions, to ignore the dread, to ignore _everything_ and go home and sleep. He was sure Caren would have agreed with this decision wholeheartedly. He exhaled again and headed for the roof access door.\n\nNick stood up and blocked his path. In the commotion, Poe had completely forgotten about him and that he sat just a few seats behind. He smiled at him crookedly, for lack of any other reaction to show.\n\n\"What...\" he visibly shivered. \"What the hell just happened?\"\n\nPoe shook his head and laughed. \"Honestly? I have no clue.\" He patted him on the shoulder. \"Thanks, Nick.\"\n\nNick frowned and cocked his head at him. \"For what?\"\n\nPoe shrugged and shot him a lopsided smile. \"For joining the team,\" he said, and walked on.\n\n\"Hey, wait!\"\n\nHe stopped and glanced at him again. \"Sheila is fine,\" he said with a smile. \"I believe Anando was able to sense the people in and around the warehouse, and sensed that no harm at all had been done. She's still there if you'd like to go see her. I know she'd be happy to see you.\"\n\n\"I...uh...\" Nick turned away, visibly relieved and feeling a little self-conscious. \"Thanks, Alec. Maybe I will.\" He gathered his uniform coat and shot past Poe, and dashed through the door.\n\n_Good kid,_ Poe thought. He watched him leave, started to move towards the door himself, and stopped, this time in front of Christine. He had not spoken to her for at least six months, yet he still considered her a great friend and an extremely gifted spiritworker that had helped protect Bridgetown from destruction. He believed she was not Mendaihu, nor was she Shenaihu—in fact, he was sure she had no direct alien lineage at all over the last two hundred years. She was only the brilliant and beautiful Christine Gorecki.\n\nWordlessly, he embraced her. It was his way of thanking her for all she had done today; all spur of the moment, all selfless. She moved into his arms instinctively, pulling him close, sharing a deep love and a profound respect. He kissed her on the cheek and slid out of the embrace. He gave her a genuine smile and a nod, and walked through the open door, lighting up a cigarette as he left.\n\n###\n\nBRIDGETOWN TOURIST GUIDE TO ANJSHÉ\n\n_Anjshé_ is the #1 most-used language on the Crimson-Null Foundation worlds, with Terran English a close second, and the Mannaki _xh'omké_ trade language a distant third.\n\nMost humans and other sentients find it quick to learn, as many find it easily accessible. Bridgetown University and Spender College both offer degrees in Anjshé studies.\n\nIt is the main language used in transworld negotiations within the CNF. One can make a lucrative career out of negotiation translating.\n\nThe real intended meaning behind Anjshé is not just in the phrasing or the inflection, but also in the spiritual and emotional intent given by the speaker. Therefore, a very literal translation to Terran English would come out as poor, vague grammar. One must _listen_ and _sense_ what one is saying in this language in order to fully understand it. Most humans have learned to do this instinctively after two and a half centuries of communication with the Meraladian society.\n\n### THE FIRST WORDS SAID IN ANJSHÉ TO THE HUMAN RACE,\n\n### 22 SEPTEMBER, YEAR 2383 CE, MAIN STREET SECTOR,\n\n### BRIDGETOWN PROVINCE, 05.18am:\n\n### dehndarra Né hra nyhndah\n\nAlthough there is no single correct translation of these words, its basic meaning is a creed of Meraladhza heritage. Some have taken it to mean the same as Descartes' \"I think, therefore I am,\" though its intent is more spiritual. A near-literal translation (\"To know thyself is to be One in Spirit\") offers a much better example of the Meraladian faith in the One of All Sacred. Without going into too much detail, the meaning of the creed is for a person to understand their own spirit fully in order to be part of the One, and its place within the One, as well as the One's place within their spirit.\n\nA 20\" by 20\" plaque with these words inscribed on them is on permanent display at the northern entrance of the Mirades Tower, celebrating its place in history.\n\n### You can find out more about the Mendaihu Universe at the official blog:\n\n### Welcome to Bridgetown\n\n### AN ANJSHÉ GLOSSARY\n\n_NOTE_ : Pronouns and names usually accentuated on the second syllable, and regular nouns and verbs accentuated on the first, though there are exceptions; those are often due to the Terran appropriation of the word to make it easier to pronounce. The _dh_ diphthong should be pronounced as a 'd' with a slight lisp.\n\n_NOTE_ : Unless otherwise noted, all names and words that have spiritual reference to them are capitalized. All other words, including the first words of an Anjshé sentence, are rarely if ever capitalized. They are capitalized within the novel, however, for grammar's sake.\n\n**aiye, aiya:** _\\_ _EYE_ _-yay,_ _EYE_ _-yah\\_ love\n\n**alaiadh:** _\\_ _ah-_ _LYE_ _-_ _ˌ_ _adh\\_ to give\n\n**aladh:** _\\_ _a-LADH\\_ to be given in kind\n\n**allei aiya:** _\\_ _ahl-_ _LEY_ _EYE_ _-yah\\_ 'I give my love to you'; used mostly as a way to say 'I love you' but can also be used to convey deep gratitude\n\n**Anjh:** _\\_ _ahng\\_ word  \n**Anjshé:** _\\_ _ahng-_ _SHEY_ _\\_ 'Word of One'; the Meraladian native tongue\n\n**braudha:** _\\_ _BROW_ _-dhah\\_ a group of people; a collective with a similar goal\n\n**cho:** _\\cho\\_ Meraladian term for duality, used in spiritual matters as well as physical and philosophical.\n\n**cho-nyhndah:** _\\_ _cho-_ _NYEEN_ _-_ _ˌ_ _dah\\_ twin-spirited\n\n**cho-shadhisi:** _\\_ _cho-shah-_ _DHEE_ _-see\\_ 'twin lovers'; soul mates  \n**chufyo:** _\\_ _CHOOF_ _-yo\\_ 'unaligned'; weird or odd\n\n**dahla:** _\\_ _DAH-lah\\_ a leader physically (front of line) or economically (top manufacturer)\n\n**Dahné:** _\\_ _dah-_ _NEY\\_ leader, specifically in spiritual situations  \n**dayen:** _\\_ _DEY-_ _en\\_ to know\n\n**dayen-ne:** _\\_ _dey-_ _YEN_ _-ney\\_ knowledge\n\n**dea:** _\\_ _DEY_ _-ah\\_ rest, or to be at rest\n\n**dehndarra:** _\\_ _den-_ _DAR_ _-rah\\_ to believe\n\n**D'haff Sshalé:** _\\_ _djaff_ _SHAH_ _-ley\\_ 'dark-minded reptile'; old Meraladian curse, now often used against someone ill-mannered, stubborn or mean-spirited\n\n**dhyn:** _\\_ _dheen\\_ star (or stars/night sky)\n\n**di, d':** _\\_ _dee\\_ general conjunction, usually 'and' or 'with'\n\n**edha:** _\\EY_ _-dhah\\_ formal male title\n\n**eicho:** _\\_ _AY_ _-sho\\_ 'male spirit'; brother\n\n**eichi:** _\\_ _AY_ _-shee\\_ 'female spirit'; sister\n\n**eilee:** _\\ay-_ _LEE\\_ general possessive (my, your, etc)\n\n**emha:** _\\_ _EY-_ _mah\\_ formal female title\n\n**esha** **:** _\\_ _EY_ _-shah\\_ center\n\n**fadayin:** _\\_ _fah-_ _DAY_ _-een\\_ father\n\n**fadhyané:** _\\fah-_ _DHYAH_ _-nay\\_ parent or parental guardian\n\n**fadin:** _\\_ _fah-_ _DEEN\\_ mother\n\n**fesha:** _\\_ _FEY_ _-sha\\_ eyes; often used to mean 'eyes of the soul'\n\n**fesh crahné:** _\\_ _faysh crah-NEY\\_ 'eyes opened'; open-minded, patient, or attentive\n\n**fesh piann:** _\\faysh pyahnn\\_ 'eyes closed'; closed-minded, ignorant, or having a big ego\n\n**fi, fiyé:** _\\_ _fee\\_ , _\\_ _FEE_ _-yay\\_ general pronoun (fi = singular, fiyé = plural)\n\n**Gharné:** _\\_ _GAR_ _-nay\\_ Earth human  \n**Gharra:** _\\_ _GAR_ _-rah\\_ Earth  \n**hra:** _\\_ _hrah\\_ to be\n\n**hrrah-sehdhyn:** _\\_ _RRAH_ _sey-_ _DHEEN\\_ 'five old stars'; refers to spacefaring years, specifically a Meraladian five-point maneuver in which five ships would surround its main focus (whether its prey or the ship it was defending); this move would purposely cause a stalemate. [the double 'r' is slightly glottal]\n\n**iedha:** _\\ee-_ _YAY-_ _dhah\\_ friend  \n**imhsha:** _\\_ _EEM_ _-shah\\_ to be afraid\n\n**jinko:** _\\_ _JEEN_ _-koh\\_ (derogatory) unclean or undeserving of spirituality\n\n**khera:** _\\_ _KAY_ _-rah\\_ here, there\n\n**kinléshi:** _\\_ _keen-_ _LAY_ _-shee\\_ sibling\n\n**kiralla:** _\\kee-_ _RAH_ _-lah\\_ 'light spirits'; the highest ascended aspect of the Mendaihu\n\n**lafiyaah:** _\\_ _la-_ _FEE_ _-yaah\\_ freedom [the double 'a' is slightly extended]\n\n**lumia:** _\\_ _loo-MEE-ah\\_ sight, or what someone perceives\n\n**lumisha dea:** _\\_ _loo-_ _MEE_ _-shah DEY-ah\\_ 'the center of vision at rest'; a deeply personal place set aside for meditation and relaxation\n\n**madin:** _\\_ _mah-_ _DEEN_ _\\_ daughter\n\n**madayin:** _\\_ _mah-_ _DAY_ _-yeen\\_ son\n\n**madhyané:** _\\_ _madh-YAH-ney\\_ child, offspring\n\n**mehra:** _\\_ _MEH_ _-rah\\_ spiritual state\n\n**mehridhea:** _\\_ _MEH_ _-ree-_ _DHAY_ _-ah\\_ peace\n\n**Mendaihu, Mendaihuza:** _\\_ _men-DYE-hoo\\_ , _\\_ _men-_ _DYE_ _-hoo-zah\\_ Meraladians of Mendaihu Descent  \n**Meraladh:** _\\_ _MER_ _-ah-_ _LAHDH_ _\\_ 'heaven returned'; current Meraladian homeworld after leaving Trisanda\n\n**né, Né:** _\\_ _nay\\_ one (number), The One of All Sacred (m) [cap. only when referring to the deity]  \n**nehko:** _\\_ _NEH_ _-koh\\_ untrustworthy, or to distrust  \n**nuhm'ndah:** _\\_ _NOOM_ _'n-_ _dah\\_ 'dark spirits'; the highest ascended aspect of the Shenaihu\n\n**nyhndah:** _\\_ _NYEEN_ _-dah\\_ heart, spirit\n\n**nyhnd'aladh:** _\\_ _NYEEN_ _-da-LADH\\_ 'I give my heart'; given as an apology  \n**pashyo:** _\\_ _PAHSH_ _-_ _yo\\_ general exclamation of surprise or frustration\n\n**piann:** _\\_ _pyahnn\\_ closed or closed-minded\n\n**rhade:** _\\_ _RAH_ _-day\\_ general qualifier to add negativity or warning to a word\n\n**sa'im** **:** _\\sah-_ _EEM_ _\\_ general qualifier to add grandness or excitement to a word\n\n**sehna:** _\\_ _SEY_ _-nah\\_ old  \n**sehna lumia:** _\\_ _SEY_ _-nah loo-_ _MEE_ _-ah\\_ 'old vision'; analogous to Akashic records, memories of past lives, including actions and thoughts\n\n**sehnadha:** _\\_ _sey-_ _NAH_ _-dhah\\_ old friend, best friend  \n**sehndayen-ne:** _\\_ _sen-_ _DAY_ _-en-ney\\_ 'old knowledge'; teacher\n\n**se'nyhndah:** _\\_ _sey-_ _NYEEN_ _-dah\\_ 'old soul; a particularly strong spirit able to travel past the physical barriers of Light and physical reality\n\n**shadha:** _\\_ _SHAH_ _-dha\\_ to love\n\n**shadhisi:** _\\_ _shah-_ _DHEE_ _-see\\_ 'love' or 'from my heart'; a term of affection\n\n**shé, Shé:** _\\_ _shay\\_ one (number), The One of All Sacred (f) [cap. only when referring to deity]\n\n**Shenaihu, Shenaihuza:** _\\sheh-_ _NYE_ _-hoo\\_ , _\\sheh-_ _NYE_ _-hoo-zah\\_ Meraladians of Shenaihu descent  \n**shimshiya:** _\\_ _sheem-_ _SHEE_ _-yah\\_ start of a spiritual event, akin to 'call to arms'\n\n**si:** _\\_ _see\\_ general conjunction, used mostly as a time reference in genealogy and history\n\n**somfei:** _\\_ _SOM_ _-fey\\_ general greeting  \n**taftika:** _\\_ _taff-_ _TEE_ _-ka\\_ general phrase of thanks or appreciation\n\n**-za:** _\\_ _zha\\_ , _\\sha\\_ suffix used to denote someone's land, or alternately their clan descent\n\n**-zi:** _\\_ _zhi\\_ , _\\zee\\_ suffix used as a nickname, often added only to first syllable of name, i.e. Nandahya = Nanzi, Amna = Amzi, Karinna = Karzi\n\nA NOTE ON THE NAME 'MERALADIAN':\n\nIn Anjshé, the proper word would be _Meraladhza_ (literally, 'those from Meraladh') and is pronounced as such on other planets within the Crimson-Null Foundation, but due to the overwhelming use of Terran English on Earth by these peoples, this word gets the \"Terranized\" version on Earth.\n\nA NOTE ON MERALADIAN SURNAMES:\n\nOne will often find variations of Meraladian clan names, such as Mirades/Miradesi and Usara/Usarai. The additional letter 'i' at the end of the name pertains to clan ancestry; in this case, it denotes a distant relation of some kind (like a cousin), rather than a direct descent of the main clan who would maintain the original. Names ending in that letter simply have another 'i' added, such as Shaleii and Runeii.\n\nAcknowledgements\n\nAs the Meraladhza would say: _taftika allei aiya._ Thank you from my heart.\n\nI am indebted to my wife, Amanda, who has put up with my crazy ideas, incomplete thoughts, and the frequent hiding in Spare Oom to write, and offering much-needed feedback during post-production. You've been the anchor I've always needed, and given me the drive to get things done to the best of my ability. _Allei aiya, shadhisi_. I love you!\n\nI would like to give my deepest thanks to the many, _many_ people — friends, family, coworkers, and fellow writers — who have assisted me, heard me out, or simply cheered me on as the Mendaihu Universe evolved over the course of two decades. There are far too many names to mention here, though I must definitely thank all my former co-workers at the record store and the candle warehouse, all of whom kept me moving ever forward when I began this series. It was a pleasure working with all of you during the day, and it kept me going when I wrote at night. Special thanks to Bruce Pendergast, who listened to all my weird plot ideas for nearly five years running, and never complained once! Here you go, man. It's finally done!\n\nThanks to my family, who put up with my late night writing sessions in the Belfry for ten years, and with all the books and music that piled up during that time. Special thanks to my dad, Richard, who supplied me with many spiritual and religious reference books when I needed them for this series.\n\nTo Judith Tarr: many thanks to you for the wise words and relentless critiquing of my manuscripts over the last few years. Those harsh words were exactly what I needed to get even better at this crazy business of ours. To Kate Elliott: thank you for the friendship and the inspiration; it's always a pleasure talking with you!\n\nTo Beth, who saw a very early version of this, and taught me many things about spirituality: I thank you — Peace, Love and Light to you. To Janice: we're all in this together, us writers who love our craft even when it's driving us crazy. Thanks for the beta reading and the friendship, and I wish you luck on your own wonderful stories! To Allison: thanks for being one of my first fans and cheering me on all this time, hope you like the final results! To Dae: my 'little sis' and one hell of a great gal, thanks for being awesome and cool.\n\nBig props to Holly Lisle, Lazette Gifford and the members of the Forward Motion online community, past and present; a great bunch of guys and gals from all corners of the world and levels of profession who love to write, chat, and cheer each other on. I thank all of you for your wonderful assistance and friendship over the years. The Mendaihu Universe owes a large debt to many of you.\n\nLastly, as I am an obsessive music listener and collector, I would like to thank my enablers: the record stores, online retailers, and especially all the musicians whose recordings they sell, as well as all the radio and internet stations that play them, for supplying me with an unending cornucopia of sounds. Your music has given me inspiration and a soundtrack to my writing and my life, and it wouldn't be the same without you.\n\nAbout the Author\n\n**Jon Chaisson** started writing science fiction in a tiny apartment in Boston after watching way too much anime and consuming most of the nearby public library's Japanese SF section. He then spent nearly a decade in a cool basement in central Massachusetts, working on the Mendaihu Universe. He now lives in San Francisco with his wife Amanda, several books, a few guitars, and a ridiculously large music collection.\n\nI'm online at these fine establishments. Come and say hello!\n\nTwitter: <https://twitter.com/joncwriter>\n\nFacebook: <https://www.facebook.com/jon.chaisson.7>\n\nInstagram: <https://www.instagram.com/joncwriter/>\n\n_Walk in Silence,_ my music blog: http://jonchaisson.com\n\nGoodReads: <http://www.goodreads.com/JonChaisson>\n\nSmashwords: <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jonchaisson>\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### MOTORBIKE MEN\n\n### by\n\n### Duncan James\n\nPublished by Duncan James\n\nSmashwords edition\n\nCopyright 2012 Duncan James\n\n***\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n***\n\n### PREFACE\n\nCHAPTER ONE. \\- Unlimited Power\n\nCHAPTER TWO. - Section eleven\n\nCHAPTER THREE. - Who Killed Uncle Edward?\n\nCHAPTER FOUR. - You're Fired!\n\nCHAPTER FIVE. \\- Old Friends, New Enemies.\n\nCHAPTER SIX. - Moving Times\n\nCHAPTER SEVEN. \\- The Russian Intervention\n\nCHAPTER EIGHT. \\- A Fusion of Interests\n\nCHAPTER NINE. - The Bridge in the Park\n\nCHAPTER TEN. \\- A Shot in the Dark\n\nCHAPTER ELEVEN. \\- You're Dead\n\nCHAPTER TWELVE. \\- Death of a Killer\n\nCHAPTER THIRTEEN. \\- Diplomatic Moves\n\nCHAPTER FOURTEEN. \\- The Goldfish Bowl\n\nCHAPTER FIFTEEN. \\- New Friends, Old Enemies\n\nCHAPTER SIXTEEN. \\- The Best Man Wins\n\n### ***\n\n### PREFACE\n\n### JOINT INTELLIGENCE COMMITTEE (JIC)\n\nITS STRUCTURE AND MEMBERSHIP.\n\nCHAIRMAN **\\- Cabinet Secretary and Head of the Civil Service** – Sir Robin Algar\n\nMEMBERS\n\n**Foreign and Commonwealth Office. -** Permanent Secretary – Sir Wilfred Forsyth\n\n**Secret Intelligence Service** **(MI6). -** Director General ('C')\n\n**Government Communications Headquarters** **(GCHQ)** \\- Director\n\n**Home Office. -** Permanent Secretary – James Burgess\n\n**Security Service (MI5)** –Director General('M')\n\nJoint Terrorism Analysis Centre\n\n**Ministry of Defence. -** Permanent Secretary – Sir Len Watkins\n\n**Defence Intelligence Staff (DIS). -** Chief – General Pearson-Jones (PJ)\n\n**Treasury. -** Permanent Secretary – Brian Hooper\n\n**Department for Trade and Industry. -** Permanent Secretary\n\n**Department for International Development.** \\- Permanent Secretary\n\n**Chief of the Assessments Staff**.\n\n**Other Departments. -** attend as necessary.\n\n***\nCHAPTER ONE \\- UNLIMITED POWER\n\nJack Barclay had never been a very good-looking man, which was probably why marriage had passed him by. His lively personality wasn't enough for most women looking to the future, although he had enjoyed his share of girl friends in the past. But nothing approaching a lasting relationship had ever materialised.\n\nSome women had felt sorry for him, probably because he appealed to their mothering instinct in some peculiar way. He had not been blessed with good looks at birth, and life had done nothing to improve things for the poor man. He had a horrendous scar across his forehead and through one eyebrow, the result of 'something-or-other in the Army' – nobody was quite sure, because he had never said. It was _actually_ an accident at school, when he and his twin brother both fell off the same bicycle they were riding while going too fast down hill. His brother had collected a very similar scar, oddly enough. There wasn't a lot of Jack's nose left, either, thanks to many an opposition boot on the rugby field. Neither had his two front teeth ever really straightened out after his head-on smash on the ice with a fellow who could skate rather well, while Jack was still trying to stay upright. In time, though, he became an excellent skier.\n\nAnd he was on the short side of being tall. Vertically deprived, he called it. For some, five foot seven would have been enough, but although he never actually complained about it, the fact was that most women, and almost all other men, made him feel as if he was standing in a hole.\n\nSo, as an up-shot of all this, he lived on his own, most recently in a second-floor flat in Battersea, which he had bought as a London bolt-hole when he felt he really had to get away from the pressures of his research work in Oxfordshire, where he lived in digs. The Battersea flat did not have a bad outlook across the park, and he could see the bridge if he leant over his balcony. That, in turn, provided him with more than enough gardening, all of it in pots. He kept the apartment clean and tidy, and mostly cooked for himself when he was there. He enjoyed that, and didn't often eat out anywhere unless he was abroad on business or away from home for some other reason. He was no bother to his neighbours, so they said, but this was not altogether surprising as he was rarely there.\n\nHe had never got on with his brother. Even though they were identical twins, they were as different as chalk from cheese. Jack had done well at school, and his brother Roger hadn't. Roger appeared not to care about learning anything worthwhile, and never made the slightest effort. Which was why, quite early on at Grammar School, they had been separated into different classes. Brother Roger was not the least impressed by the efforts and achievements of his twin, although the school's teachers had thought that a bit of peer pressure, especially from a twin brother, might spur him into making something of an effort, if only for the sake of appearances. But that theory didn't work, and he hadn't even tried to do well – at anything. He had never shown the slightest interest in sport, although he was required, unless he really was ill, to play 'rough and muddy rugby' during the winter, and 'boring cricket' in the summer. Roger's scholarly brother, Jack, on the other hand, had represented the school at cricket, rugby and, later badminton, too. A fellow classmate had once managed to break Roger's nose during a particularly awful game of rugby, and an opposition batsman had square-cut a ball at cricket one Wednesday afternoon and loosened two of Roger's front teeth for him while he had been thinking of something else. All of which resulted in he and his brother continuing to look like two peas in a pod.\n\nThe plain fact of the matter was that Roger had simply idled his way through every aspect of school life, and couldn't leave soon enough – a view eventually shared by his headmaster. The brothers were certainly not identical twins, except in appearance. Had they been closer, they could have played havoc everywhere they went. But they chose to keep their distance from one another, and the older they got, the greater became the distance between them.\n\nSo, it was no great surprise to their parents, although an ongoing disappointment until the day they died, when Roger Barclay had joined the local bank as a junior clerk, without even waiting for his 'O' level results. In the event, they were as disappointing as everyone expected, and not worth waiting for anyway.\n\nBrother Jack, meanwhile, had gone up to Oxford, done remarkably well, and continued to succeed in his chosen career as a mathematician and research scientist in particle physics. His reputation went before him, and his services were soon in demand. Oxford wanted him to stay on to tutor after he had achieved his doctorate, and the Americans were even now trying to entice him to work for them. But he had elected to stay in the UK, and to work for the Atomic Energy Authority, although he had rejected approaches to help develop new and ever more devastating weapons. He was convinced that the power of the atom should be put to the future good of mankind, and harnessed to generate the energy that the world's fast-growing population would need in order to survive.\n\nWhich is how Professor Jack Barclay came to be a key figure in the development of nuclear energy as a replacement for fossil fuels. His research efforts were closely watched around the world – sometimes too closely for his own comfort. He preferred not to be in the limelight, but to work quietly with a few chosen colleagues at the purpose-built research laboratory at Culham, towards their ultimate goal of achieving sustainable nuclear fusion.\n\nFusion power offered an almost limitless source of energy for the future once the formidable scientific and engineering problems surrounding its development were overcome. Because of this potential, every major nation in the world pursued its own research programme to some extent, in a commercially competitive effort to achieve the Holy Grail of meeting the fast-growing universal demand for energy. But in spite of this, there was also a great deal of international co-operation, particularly among scientists, even if this was not shared between politicians. Harnessing nuclear fusion would answer the world's insatiable demand for energy without contributing to global warming, and without producing massive amounts of radioactive waste. What waste there was, quickly decayed. Hydrogen was its main fuel – the most commonly available natural gas in the universe.\n\nTo make this dream of endless power a commercial reality meant engineering the fusion together of such nuclei as hydrogen isotopes so as to release energy, rather than the easier technique of splitting atoms in nuclear fission, the process used for weapons. The fusion process is similar to that which takes place in the sun and other stars, and requires similar exceptionally high temperatures. Energy-producing fusions need gas from a combination of the hydrogen isotopes deuterium and tritium to be heated to some one hundred million degrees centigrade and to be confined for about a second. During this time, the plasma of electrons and hydrogen interact to fuse into helium, and some of their mass is destroyed, releasing huge amounts of energy in the form of heat, light and radiation. Such fusions had been carried out in laboratories for many years, but only of very short durations. Confinement for longer periods would result in a controllable, continuous reaction, which generated more energy than it used.\n\nProfessor Jack Barclay had set that as his goal.\n\nPrevious work had suggested that the use of magnetic confinement of the gas was the most promising in achieving a continuous 'burn', although, thanks largely to Barclay's work, research to achieve the same objective using lasers was now well advanced. Although he was one of a team, his incisive brain and sound theoretical approach gave him prominence among his peer group. Barclay reasoned that using lasers would provide the ability to maintain a steady flow of fusion blasts, taking research closer to the continuous system needed for commercial power generation. It was his work that lead to the formation of the High Power Laser Programme at the Rutherford Appleton Laboratory at Harwell, in which he now played a leading role. This aspect of his research was considered so important that very little of it was made public knowledge, even within the scientific communities of cooperating countries.\n\nAlthough limited and lacking in detail, news of his new research work had somehow got out, and had caught the public imagination through the popular press, as well as exciting fellow researchers round the world. They constantly demanded the publication of learned papers and his presence at conferences to expand on his new theories, but he was a diminutive man, who, probably because of his stature, disliked the attention of others and certainly hated speaking in public, even at seminars about his chosen subject. But the media had more than once given him and his work unwanted and unwelcome publicity, so that he was now quite well known generally as well as in the very specialised world of nuclear physics. It was his most recent work in developing the theory of laser confinement of the hydrogen plasma that was exciting most interest, particularly in America, the Middle East and Russia. It soon became evident from the level of their interest that Barclay's work had put the UK well ahead of other countries in this most-promising aspect of the nuclear fusion race.\n\nAnd that brought with it particular dangers. Not just for him, either. Neither of them knew it at the time, but Jack's success was to prove to be the death of his brother Roger.\n\n***\n\nLike his brother, Roger Barclay had never been a very good-looking man either. They were, after all, identical twins. He had even collected a similar looking scar on his face when they crashed off their bike when kids at school, not to mention similar damage reluctantly gained on the sports field.\n\nRoger Barclay led a quiet but contented life. Contented because it was uncomplicated. Like his brother Jack, he had never married, so only had himself to bother about. He cared little enough for his twin brother, who seemed to be forever rushing about all over the world like the mad scientist Roger believed him to be, and the two rarely met. Unlike his brother in almost every way, he couldn't wait to get away from school, with all the pressure that went with it, some of which he admitted was created by his brother's superior intellect and achievements. This was why he had left school early, and taken a behind-the-scenes clerical job in the local bank. He could handle the demands of that job, such as they were, with minimum effort, while earning sufficient for his modest needs. He did a bit of overtime now and then, usually at the end of the month when the bank was at its busiest, and was able to put a little aside for a rainy day. It enabled him to do a bit of travelling, too, which was about the only thing he really enjoyed and looked forward to. Not that he went far, ever. He had a small but very old car that he seldom used for fear it would let him down, so he mostly travelled by public transport. He enjoyed buses for short trips, because you could see more, but used the train when he was travelling any distance, and got the tickets from his local travel agent. He could pick up all the leaflets at the same time, and dream of visiting all those far away places if ever he could afford it – or be bothered. He could just about afford a small flat in a backwater of Blackheath, where he lived. His address sounded much grander than the flat warranted, because it wasn't in the most sought-after part of that once-smart London 'village'. But it suited him well. Out of the way as it was, he was able to keep himself to himself and come and go as he pleased, eating in when he chose, or grabbing a cheap takeaway meal somewhere on his was home from the bank. He rarely saw or heard anything of his neighbours, and only knew a couple of them well enough by sight to nod a greeting on the rare occasions they passed on the stairs. It was rare, too, for him ever to meet or talk to his brother, although he knew quite a bit about his work because of the publicity he received from time to time in the press and on TV. The more he saw and heard, the gladder he was that he was so unlike his brilliant brother. Roger was a loner, let's be honest. He enjoyed his own company better than other people's and didn't want to be bothered by other people. No wife, no close friends, and no family apart from his almost-estranged brother. Their parents had died a year or so ago, killed in a coach crash while on holiday in the French Alps. In fact, that was about the last time he and Jack had met, at the funeral. They had been in touch a bit since – Christmas cards and so on – but hadn't actually met again since that cold, wet day at the crematorium. They had both decided that they should make an effort to keep in touch more often than they had in past and indeed had phoned one another a couple of times since then. But they had not been long chats. They had too little in common to find much to chat about.\n\nThis was why their last phone call had been so unusual.\n\n***\n\nWork on the laser containment of plasma for the nuclear fusion process was gathering pace, and Professor Barclay found that he had less and less time to himself. Apart from frequent visits to the Atomic Energy Establishment at Harwell, and sometimes even Aldermaston, he also travelled abroad more and more often these days to work with European colleagues within Euratom, and those involved in the new International Thermonuclear Experimental Reactor at Cadarache, in France. He and his small team of research scientists and mathematicians felt impelled to keep up the momentum of their work, fearing that any lengthy break would disrupt their train of thought and further delay the academic progress that they appeared to be making. Much of their time was spent at the blackboard, fretting over complex theoretical equations in an effort to fathom solutions to seemingly intractable problems. But slowly, solutions seemed to present themselves, at which point the team needed urgent consultations with their more practical colleagues in the engineering field to discuss the feasibility of putting their new-found propositions into some form of working framework. Barclay was beginning to believe that they might at last be on the right track, and that their research effort could soon point them towards the form and structure of an operational prototype.\n\nNaturally, news of this activity spread throughout the world of science, creating considerable excitement and discussion. In some quarters, however, it was also a cause for some concern.\n\nNot all the players in the energy field were anxious to see nuclear fusion developed to the point where it could become a commercially viable alternative source of power. At least, not yet. Although such an outcome was in any event at least some ten or perhaps even twenty years away, there were a few countries around the world, including some of those involved in joint research projects, that still had almost unlimited resources of fossil fuels at their disposal, and who could see the value of their oil and gas reserves begin to decline. On the other hand, there were countries that were similarly striving to make the breakthrough in nuclear fusion before any other nation, so as to command the commercial benefits to be had.\n\nThe focus of these competing interests was Jack Barclay's small team at their secret laboratory at Culham, but particularly the Professor himself. They were all unaware of this unwelcome attention, but some of Britain's commercial attachés and elements of the intelligence fraternity had already begun to pick up the unhealthy interest that was being shown in some quarters in Barclay's work. Slowly, news of this focus of interest on Barclay filtered upwards through the diplomatic and intelligence networks until it reached the higher echelons of the establishment in Whitehall.\n\nIt was at a meeting of the Joint Intelligence Committee (JIC) that the issue was first discussed, albeit briefly. In answer to his probing, Sir Robin Algar, the Cabinet Secretary and Chairman of JIC, discovered that none of his colleagues could recall hearing anything at all disturbing about the natural interest being shown around the world in Barclay's work.\n\n\"What have _you_ heard, then?\" asked Sir William Forsyth of the Foreign Office.\n\n\"Like you, nothing specific,\" replied Algar, \"but some leading questions are being asked in some quarters which could indicate more than a natural curiosity in the work of Barclay and his team, and I wondered if anyone else was getting the same vibes.\"\n\n\"Since you mention it,\" said Forsyth, \"recent telegrams have suggested that a couple of governments overseas are taking rather more than a scientific interest in the work being pioneered in this country. Russia and Saudi Arabia spring to mind, but I'd need to check.\"\n\n\"I also seem to recall that a few recent intelligence updates have suggested a whiff of unusual interest being shown,\" added the Home Office man, James Burgess. \"But like you, William, I'd need to check to be sure.\"\n\n\"Then please do – all of you,\" commanded Algar. \"I'd like to know at our next meeting if anything suggesting a threat is developing, so that we can react accordingly. Get the usual checks done by the Security Services, and I'd like your people, Len, to report anything they may have picked up.\" This was to both Sir Len Watkins at Defence and the Chief of Defence Intelligence Staff (DIS). \"We will discuss it again when next we meet,\" he said, and adjourned the meeting.\n\n***\n\nLike everyone else when they next met, each member of the JIC had been given a special brief prepared by the officials in their own Department. Similarly, the brief that had been prepared for the Chairman rehearsed the background to the work that had been going on for decades into the possibility of providing for future energy needs by harnessing nuclear fusion. They all knew that fusion reactions had been an almost daily event at Culham for some decades, but that a self-sustaining reaction was yet to be developed. This was the next big step – to develop a reactor that would emit more energy than it consumed and was able to generate the extreme temperatures needed to maintain a self-sustaining reaction. The development of such a machine was an international effort. Indeed, the Joint European Torus, the largest fusion reactor then built, was housed at Culham, while the newer and more powerful International Thermonuclear Experimental Reactor, had been built in France. In spite of this huge and expensive international effort, many countries were also pursuing their own development work. It soon became evident to the JIC that some countries believed that the results of the UK's research at Culham were not being fully shared with them.\n\n\"Up to a point, they're right,\" said Algar. \"There are aspects of Barclay's work which we are keeping to ourselves for the time being. Not just Barclay's work, either. The research into new materials, such as niobium tin and niobium titanium, capable of withstanding the enormous temperatures developed in the reactors, is also something we are reluctant to share at the moment, although we know that others are following the same lines of development. But for various reasons, Barclay's work is attracting undue and unwelcome attention, and we need to discuss what to do about it.\"\n\n\"It seems,\" said Sir Wilfred Forsyth of the Foreign office, \"that it is Barclay's work on using laser containment that is exciting the greatest interest at the moment.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" said the Defence man, Len Watkins. \"There appears to be a generally held view that his work is far ahead of that being carried out elsewhere, and rivals are keen to catch up.\"\n\n\"Or slow his progress,\" suggested Forsyth.\n\n\"What is that supposed to mean?\" asked Burgess of the Home Office.\n\n\"It means,\" said Algar, \"that there are two factions at play here, if I understand the briefings correctly. One wants Barclay to share his research findings with them now rather than later, while the other wants to stop him making further progress while they catch up.\"\n\n\"How would they do that?\" asked Hooper from the Treasury.\n\n\"By removing him from the scene, I guess,\" replied Watkins.\n\n\"Do you mean kidnapping the man?\"\n\n\"Or worse.\"\n\n\"That is scandalous. Who are we talking about here?\"\n\n\"There are two rival camps here, so I believe,\" said Forsyth. \"My Int. people are indicating that there are those who are desperately head-hunting Professor Barclay, to get him to work for them rather than us, and there are others – or at least one other, I should say, but perhaps more – who simply want him removed from the scene. Perhaps permanently.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" said Algar. \"I know for a fact that the Americans have offered Barclay very attractive terms indeed to work for them at the National Ignition Facility based at the Lawrence Livermore laboratory in California, where they are already studying the use of lasers in the nuclear fusion field. This is an approach made by academics to another academic rather than by the Government, although of course the laboratory is backed by the US Government, so the administration must know about the approach and approve of it.\"\n\n\"What about Barclay's reaction?\" asked Burgess.\n\n\"Interested, I'm told, but so far has decided to stay put,\" replied Algar. \"There is another player, though, who has yet to show their hand, but who may eventually manage to turn him.\"\n\n\"You mean Abu Dhabi?\" asked Forsyth, rhetorically.\n\n\"Abu Dhabi?\" asked Hooper disbelievingly.\n\n\"Exactly,\" said Forsyth. \"It sounds incredible, but the United Arab Emirates are actively considering entering the field themselves, even at this late stage. They have invested countless billions of their oil revenue into their infrastructure, - roads, hospitals, education, tourism and so on, - and now realise that when Abu Dhabi's oil reserves run out, which they will eventually, they will have nothing with which to service this huge investment. Developing an alternative energy source, which they can sell to their neighbours when they, too, run out of oil, is being seriously studied.\"\n\n\"So how does Barclay fit into this grand scheme?\" asked Watkins.\n\n\"They are talking about approaching him to start up the project,\" said Algar, \"and to run it. They could afford to pay him whatever he asked, and provide him with the sort of research facilities that at present he can only dream of. They have yet to approach him, although we suspect he has heard of their interest through his academic connections.\"\n\n\"That could explain why he has resisted the American so far.\"\n\n\"Whatever happens, we need to keep him here if we possibly can, although there is no way we could compete financially,\" said Hooper.\n\n\"In the end, it's his choice anyway,\" pointed out Burgess.\n\n\"What about this apparent threat to remove him from the scene?\" asked Watkins.\n\n\"According to our information,\" said the Head of SIS, \"the Russians at least want him out of the way. There seem to be two reasons for this, but the main one is to slow down the development of an alternative energy source until their own vast reserves of oil and gas are nearing depletion, and then to capture the new market to themselves. In particular, they are keen that he doesn't work for the Americans.\"\n\n\"So are we,\" agreed Algar, \"but for different reasons. I also believe that, if he goes to Abu Dhabi, the Iranians and the Saudis may also then be tempted to put an end to his work.\"\n\n\"So how do we assess the threat?\" asked Watkins.\n\n\"Ignoring the threat to our own national interests for the moment, Barclay himself seems to face a real threat of either kidnap or assassination,\" said Algar. \"My view is that Section 11 should be tasked to keep a close eye on the man. We shall need to decide later whether Barclay should be briefed, or whether we just get on with it without his knowledge. I also think we should double-check the security clearances of all those who are working closely with Barclay, especially his small teams at Culham and Harwell. Perhaps you could set that in motion as soon as possible,\" he said to the Home Office Permanent Secretary.\n\nThey all nodded their agreement.\n\n\"Good,\" said Sir Robin Algar. \"I suppose I'd also be well advised to tell the Prime Minister, about this.\"\n\nAgain, they all nodded.\n\n***\nCHAPTER TWO – SECTION ELEVEN\n\nMany people who were involved in the security and intelligence business had often thought that there were too many different organisations involved, in one way or another. For instance, one organisation looked after overseas threats, while another gathered intelligence about threats on the mainland, and yet a third was responsible for organised crime. These responsibilities frequently overlapped, which was why there were the 'joint' organisations. Bits and pieces of the other three, put together in an effort to avoid duplication and to 'co-ordinate'. The Government appeared to think that the answer to every new threat was to add a bit more bureaucracy to the system. But inevitably, they all tended to trip over one another from time to time, while the constituent parts owed allegiance to their own parent body, so rivalry was never completely eliminated, and individuals were always looking over their shoulder to make sure that nothing was done to prejudice their future career prospects. Reporting chains became a nightmare, and budgets were a permanent source of conflict.\n\nThe tasks of these various bodies became increasingly complex as time went on. The Chinese clans for example, operated both abroad and in UK. At the same time, the clans were organised crime (Special Branch), a threat to mainland UK (MI5) and were often based overseas (MI6). There were others, too, like the Mafia, both the Italian and the Russian versions, and the drug barons of Columbia and Afghanistan. Add a dash of international terrorism, and management became virtually impossible, not least because the Military inevitably became involved on top of everyone else. Look at the al-Qa'Aeda situation, for instance, and the Taliban, with its international drugs trade. So other countries were added to the pot, to represent their national interests as a threat developed. The reporting chain upwards was complex, too. Some organisations reported to the Home Office, others to the Foreign Office, and yet more to the Ministry of Defence. A few, rather special agencies, reported direct to the Prime Minister's office.\n\nThe United States played a trump card, or so it thought, in safeguarding its national interests, when it formed the new, huge and vastly expensive organisation that it called the Homeland Security Department. The outcome, in reality, was to slam the door on the outside world, friends and foes alike, making life difficult if not impossible for visitors to the US, whether they were business or pleasure travellers. But the Americans felt more secure because of it, so that was all right.\n\nThen the UK Government created yet another 'secret' organisation, which immediately received widespread publicity, especially in the tabloids. It was grandly called The Fixated Threat Assessment Centre, run by a mixture of the police, doctors and health officials, whose remit it was to identify and target individuals whose obsessive behaviour could pose a threat to people in public life. Those individuals posing the threat could be 'sectioned' under mental health legislation, and locked up, without trial, on medical grounds. And it was a real enough threat. BBC personality Gill Dando had been murdered by a stalker, and so, overseas, had the Swedish Foreign Minister, Anna Lindh. But the human rights lobby immediately saw this as a draconian measure for dealing with terror suspects without putting the accused before a judge and jury.\n\nIt was just as well they didn't know about Section 11.\n\nRun jointly by MI5 and MI6, Section 11 (5+6) was a small, very top-secret unit, which had so far managed to remain top secret. It was one of those organisations that reported direct to Downing Street, through the Cabinet Secretary, who was also Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee (JIC). S.11 had a worldwide remit to guard high value UK citizens when they were at maximum risk, and, if necessary, to 'eliminate' any serious threat to their safety. It wasn't concerned with royalty or senior ministers or foreign dignitaries – there was already a separate organisation to look after them, in the form of the Royalty and Diplomatic Protection Unit, run by the Metropolitan Police from Scotland Yard. Section 11 looked after other, less obvious but none the less high value targets, some of whom never realised they were the objects of special attention. But they were all individuals who, because of their exceptional value to the country, were naturally also of interest to the country's enemies.\n\nSection 11 had managed to remain undetected by the media and others simply by virtue of the way it was organised and operated. It had a discrete budget provided by its parent organisations, which each made a contribution towards the cost of its operations. Although S.11 did not have its own budget voted by Parliament, it was understood that whatever it wanted, it got. Not for them, however, a smart Headquarters building in Whitehall, or fast cars, or odd-looking uniforms, or any of the trappings which the public, and the media, come to expect of Government Quangos of this sort. They went out of their way to remain – well, out of the way.\n\nTheir HQ was in a rather down-at-heel terrace of offices over an also rather down-at-heel row of commercial properties - shops, cafés, pizza bars, solicitor's offices, a laundrette, a travel agent, fish and chip shop, and so on. It was in Clerkenwell, not far from the Mount Pleasant Post Office sorting office and Saddlers Wells opera house. The street was so ordinary that nobody took any real notice of it, and certainly never went there unless they lived or worked nearby and wanted a newspaper, or a quick coffee, or a sandwich for lunch. The frontage of the terrace had been turned into a pedestrian precinct, which kept it quiet, but there was road access from the back, and the 19 and 38 busses stopped nearby on their way to Victoria and Battersea, from Hackney Marshes and Islington and other places out that way.\n\nBeing close to the Mount Pleasant sorting office had presented Section 11 with a unique advantage, since, until 2003, the Post Office used to run its own automatic underground railway to speed the mail across London. Mount Pleasant was in the middle of it, and part of the old station and tunnel now provided the Clerkenwell office with a cavernous garage beneath the building, with easy access from the street.\n\nEasy, that is, apart from the security system.\n\nOne of the businesses on this Clerkenwell back street was a newsagent-cum-tobacconist, which had a gent's hairdressers at the back. That's how you got to S.11. Through the hairdressers, which was run by a certain Mr. Lawrence. Nobody knew his first name. In fact, he didn't often do much hairdressing, either. He was 'by appointment only', and most casual customers soon got to learn how difficult it was to get an appointment. What he did best was to check and monitor everyone who went into the S.11 offices. At the back of his salon was an elaborate, gated security system. You needed a special pass, and the system had to recognise your thumbprint and iris pattern before it would even think of letting you go upstairs. Once you got upstairs, either from Mr. Lawrence's salon or from the underground garage, there were more checks – a second tier security system, with more biometric tests, TV monitors and coded keypads. Only then did you get through the chipped brown-painted door marked 'Ajax Recruitment – office staff and call centre operators always wanted.' Pinned to the door though, at a rakish angle, was a hand written sign saying 'No Vacancies.' There never were. You only ever got through that door if you worked there – or if you had been invited.\n\nNothing changed a great deal to the appearance of the place when you were inside, either, but you would never know that the old triple-glazed window frames had bullet-proof glass in them. They were dingy corridors with Magnolia emulsion on the grubby walls, and old brown painted Victorian doors leading to offices which all looked much the same. One or two had plaques on the door, meaningless acronyms to everyone except those to whom they meant something. Things like, 'SO to G3(M)'; 'OIC T.12a'; 'PA to S', and so on. As a matter of fact, the Personal Assistant to the Head of Section (PA to S) was quite an important lady. She wasn't just his Secretary. She actually did things on her own initiative if she thought it would save her boss a bit of time. She fixed meetings, made sure the notes, if there were any, were properly encrypted and stored securely, and, according to those who knew, made excellent coffee. She also made it her business to keep up to speed with everything that was going on, including a few things Head of Section didn't know about, because he didn't need to, yet. Like everyone else in S.11, she had been specially selected, and had a very high security clearance.\n\nThe people who worked in that rather gloomy Headquarters did all the things that get done in any other head office, as well as quite a few things that don't. But it was a small and tightly knit community, which had at its disposal all the most modern electronic, computing and communications equipment available. The people who planned the various operations going on at any one time also monitored their progress and kept in touch with the operatives in the field. They, in turn had been trained to be largely self supporting, so when they did get on to HQ, it was usually important enough for people to take notice and do something – in a hurry. There were always people there. At night and at weekends, there would be a duty officer, a couple of people looking after communications in what was jokingly called the 'wireless room', and probably one or two others monitoring the progress of their particular operation. Any one of them could summon help from on-call staff at home, who reacted immediately when called upon, whatever they were doing. The newsagent was always open, too, either waiting delivery of the first editions or catching a few of the late-night visitors to Saddlers Wells. The Pakistani family who ran it didn't mind the hours. Section 11 paid them well.\n\nThe sharp end of Section 11 was a flexible force of specially trained field officers, mostly drawn from military special forces and police special branch, but with a few from the security services. There was no telling how many might be needed at any one time, or where they might be deployed, so there was an 'on call' reserve pool available at 'no notice' if required. Reserves or not, they were very highly trained. Although when out in the field they normally worked in pairs, they were otherwise on their own with little or no immediate back up or support. They had received special training in how to blend in anonymously with the community in which they worked, wherever they were. Their first priority was to remain invisible, un-noticed. They wore casual civilian clothing, appropriate to their location, although they could dress the part of a busy stockbroker in the City if they had to. They used ordinary vehicles for getting about, although many of these had been specially modified in S.11's own garage, conveniently housed under the Clerkenwell offices. If they needed to use public transport, they, or head office, used High Street travel agents, bought rail tickets from the station booking office, and flew tourist class. Just like anyone else. But there the similarity ended. These were very special men and women. They were fluent in at least two languages other than their native tongue. They were parachute trained, survival specialists and sniper marksmen. And they were mostly armed. They were also experts in pursuit driving, a skill often put to the test either when following a high-speed car, or when trying to shake off one behind them. The Met. Police provided that training at their Hendon driving school.\n\nS.11 had quite an extensive fleet of vehicles. Ordinary vehicles, not polished staff cars. Apart from a few old saloon cars, as well as more modern vehicles like the Vauxhall Vector and Honda Jazz, there were a few vans, even a milk float, bicycles and a range of motorbikes from 50cc Vesper scooters to BMW R1159s and Honda CBR 900s. Some of the old Post Office vans had been fitted out with extensive satellite communications equipment or surveillance gear, including listening devices and video monitors. Most of the vehicles had been modified in some way, and the mechanics that worked in the garage were particularly proud of an old Morris Minor, which sounded as if it needed a new exhaust, but which could actually do nearly a ton and had been known to get up to 60mph in just under ten seconds. But the motorbikes were the most popular. Easy to use in traffic, not normally out of place anywhere, and ideal for two people; the Section 11 agents who operated in the field usually worked in pairs. When they weren't out on ops., the field officers spent a good deal of their spare time training, or in the HQ at Clerkenwell. At the back of the underground garage was an armoury and a rifle range, run by a retired Royal Navy Petty Officer gunner, Phil Langdon, who had introduced himself on arrival as their new 'top gun'. Immediately, one of the comedians in the team had christened him 'bottom gun,' and from thenceforward he had been known as 'Bottom' for short. He hated that. But he knew about weapons, and was a crack short.\n\nThere were other rather odd bits of Section 11, too, which you wouldn't expect to find in any normal organisation, even if it was, strictly speaking, a part of the civil service. 'Aunty' for instance, ran the clothing store. He was a rather precious retired actor – nobody could remember his real name – but he was able to provide appropriate kit for you wherever in the world you were going. He had wigs and dark glasses and false moustaches too, if it was felt that you needed to change your appearance from time to time, rather than become too familiar and run the risk of being recognised.\n\nThe admin section was run by an elderly civil servant called Gladys Something-or-other, who smoked like a chimney in spite of the law about smoking at work. She maintained that there was so little work done in Clerkenwell that the law didn't apply, and she was too valuable to get rid of, so people put up with it. She had a form for you to fill in for your every need, and made sure you did it properly and got it counter-signed, and all that. It was a waste of time going to Bottom or Aunty for anything unless you'd been to Gladys first for the right bit of paper. She didn't have an acronym on her door – it simply said 'Admin', and that was that. Aunty had two – 'Stage Door' and 'Props', neither of which was official, and both of which were therefore frowned upon by Gladys. The rifle range and armoury, from which one drew weapons and ammunition if you had the necessary forms from Gladys, was labelled 'Arms.' on the armour-plated door. Underneath, in indelible ink, someone had scribbled 'Legs and Bottom'.\n\nAt the top of this rather shabby looking but extremely efficient organisation, was the Head of Section. He was known simply as 'S', in the same way that the Director General of the Secret Intelligence Service, or MI6 as most people called it, was known as 'C', and the head of MI5 was known as 'M'. 'S' had a deputy, and one or other of them was always available – and that meant 'always' – 24/7, as the idiom had it. The hierarchy was really quite small for an organisation that had a worldwide remit, and they were all widely experienced members of the intelligence community. Their job now was not so much to gather intelligence, or even interpret it, but rather to act upon it. The Head of Section 11 reported direct to the Cabinet Secretary, and thus to the JIC from whom the Section got most of its work. Any of the constituent members of the committee could put forward suitable targets for S.11 to look after, but the final tasking decision was always taken by the JIC or by its chairman.\n\nExcept, that is, in the recent unlikely case of the captain of the England football squad.\n\n***\n\nIt was at about the quarterfinal stage of the world cup when the Football Association first got wind of a possible plot to kidnap the team captain, and perhaps also his family, in some sort of effort to fix a few results. At the time, England were favourites to win the cup, much to annoyance of the Germans, whose supporters were reported to be developing the plot. This is not the sort of thing that the intelligence community would normally take much notice of, although the press were having a field day. Excellent footballer though the man was, he did not begin to take on the national importance of, say, some of the country's leading industrialists, and therefore nobody in Clerkenwell was taking the slightest professional interest in the story.\n\nUntil, that is, 'S' thought it might make quite a good training exercise for a few of the newer members of the operational field force, especially as life had been a bit on the quiet side recently.\n\n\"How many of our people speak German?\" he asked at 'prayers' one morning.\n\nOne of the Ops people thought about a dozen.\n\n\"Right,\" said 'S'. \"Three teams of two will do,\" he pronounced. \"The most inexperienced you can find.\"\n\n\" _IN_ experienced?\"\n\n\"That's right – this will be good training for them, and it won't be a national disaster if they fail. Except for them, of course.\"\n\nThe Head of Section at that time was Alan Jarvis, himself not a great football enthusiast, although he could understand that national pride would take a bit of a bashing if the England XI lost after all the build-up and high expectations.\n\n\"Are you looking for any other particular qualities, apart from lack of experience?\" enquired one of his team sarcastically.\n\n\"Football supporters would help,\" replied 'S', \"and an ability to hold a few litres of lager without falling over might also be an advantage. Perhaps I'd better explain.\"\n\nWhen he had done so, the Section's Head of Finance looked distinctly uneasy.\n\n\"How do you propose justifying the expenditure of taxpayers' money to look after a footballer?\" he asked.\n\n\"Training,\" came the reply. \"Put it down to 'training'. Although if we are lucky, it won't cost us a bean. I'll talk to the Chairman of the Football Association, and see what he can offer.\"\n\nIn the end, he offered quite a lot, including installing one of the S.11 team in the official party as a member of the press office. The others were out on their own. Aunty managed to find them, from somewhere in the theatrical underworld of wardrobe mistresses, official German football shirts, together with woolly hats and scarves which they would need, as Munich in the winter can be a bit cold.\n\nThey had three weeks to establish themselves in Germany. Two of them quickly managed to infiltrate the supporters' club, and were soon involved, with the handful of yobs that thought it would be a good idea, in helping to plan the kidnap of the England Captain. Others were liaising closely with the Scotland Yard officers who had gone to Munich to work with the local Polizei to keep hooligans and lager louts under control. It was not a difficult exercise, in all honesty. They knew where the threat was coming from, so concentrated on them rather than on the target of the threat.\n\nOn the big day, the S.11 team had managed to persuade the local constabulary to provide them with a police van and driver, thanks largely to the Scotland Yard liaison officers. By the time the kidnappers set off to hijack the England team bus, they had all taken on board copious quantities of local lager, so offered no real resistance when four of their number turned out to be quite good English speakers. There was not much of a struggle to get them into the polizei van, which set off on its journey into the Bavarian Alps, where the miscreants were eventually left to find their own way home.\n\nThe Clerkenwell team had quite enjoyed their little training exercise, not least because one of their number produced half a dozen tickets for the game, which, he assured his chums, the Germans would no longer be needing.\n\nTheir biggest problem was remembering to cheer for the opposition, in German.\n\n***\n\nIn Downing Street, the Cabinet Secretary was coming to the end of a meeting with colleagues in the JIC. It was their job to review the strategic planning assumptions of the intelligence agencies, to set priorities for the collection and assessment of intelligence material, and generally to keep an eye on their programmes and expenditure.\n\nIn conclusion, Sir Robin Algar summed up the present operations being undertaken by Section 11, including Operation Cashback, which was nearing its end. (read 'Cashback', by Duncan James)\n\n\"Operation Cashback only worked because of the efforts of our Defence Attaché in Harare, Group Captain Bowman,\" Forsyth reminded them.\n\nWatkins nodded. \"Good man, Bowman,\" he said. \"Held the whole thing together. Are all the Section 11 team back now, by the way?\"\n\n\"The last two will be home any time,\" replied Algar.\n\n\"Remind me how we ever got involved in that,\" asked the Home Office man. \"Not another hare set up by the Head of Section, Jarvis, I hope?\"\n\n\"No, not at all,\" replied Algar. \"It was you who thought it would be a good idea, Wilfred,\" he said, turning to the Foreign Office man, \"although I must say that, from the start, this has been an unusual operation. At first, Section 11 wasn't actually involved at all, as it had been rather more of a criminal investigation, except that nobody knew for sure that any crime had been committed or by whom,\" he reminded them.\n\n\"The banking community picked up the first sign of anything being wrong. It was the London Office of a Dutch Bank, as a matter of fact. One of their customers, a wealthy but elderly lady, suddenly had two million pounds credited to her account, and the bank could not discover its source. It had appeared via the computer system which banks use to move money around, but nobody could discover where it came from, which was not just puzzling, but worrying. But what really stirred things up was when a million pounds of the original two million was withdrawn again very soon after it had been deposited. The bank was quite unable to find out who had withdrawn it or where it had gone. This sort of thing was just not supposed to happen – it should have been impossible.\"\n\n\"Absolutely impossible,\" agreed Hooper from the Treasury. \"The international banking security system was reckoned to be totally foolproof, and certainly had been until this happened.\"\n\n\"Apparently, other banks were having similar problems, although we didn't know it at the time,\" continued Algar. \"Whoever was behind the Dutch bank's difficulties was also playing ducks and drakes with cash deposited in banks in Switzerland, in the Cayman Islands, in Singapore, Bermuda, and the United States, and so on. Naturally, the banks concerned were not about to broadcast the fact that they appeared to be having severe problems with their security systems, and that very large sums of money were appearing and disappearing as if by magic.\"\n\n\"I could never understand why their customers didn't kick up about it,\" remarked Watkins. \"I certainly would have.\"\n\n\"Probably because in some, if not all cases, the cash they were now short of was ill gotten in the first place,\" suggested Hooper.\n\n\"It was the corrupt regime in Zimbabwe that reacted first,\" said Algar. \"From the President downwards, they were all being milked dry. Equally mysteriously, white farmers who had been evicted from their land started receiving quite large sums of cash, apparently accompanied by the promise of a pension. It was as if someone had decided, rather late in the day, to pay them compensation. But it certainly wasn't the Government.\"\n\n\"And then that fool of a President raided Zimbabwe's Central Bank to replace his lost personal funds. That's what really started trouble in the country, and we saw the first signs of a possible coup or an uprising or some such event designed to get rid of the man,\" said the Foreign Office man.\n\n\"It was about that time, too, that we got our first clue as to who was behind it,\" said Burgess.\n\n\"Ah, yes. I remember now,\" said the Home Office man. \"And the PM was quite adamant that we should let him and his team run with whatever he was doing, rather than pull him in, just in case he and his fellow operatives became the catalyst which rid Zimbabwe of the President and his rotten regime.\"\n\n\"And Section 11 was tasked to keep an eye on them,\" concluded Algar. \"The UK side of the operation was quite straightforward, really. We were looking after the interests of a brilliant young mathematician who had studied computer science at Oxford, and his partner. They travelled a bit – Switzerland and Kenya mostly, but we had plenty of notice through the phone-taps we were using. His two associates in Africa were a bit more difficult, though. They were Zimbabweans, one black, one white, and they dodged about all over the place – Nairobi, Harare, Bulawayo, Lusaka, even Livingstone, as well as their home village of Chasimu. Our teams out there had the devil's own job keeping in contact with them, but the two of them were at the greatest risk as they were at the sharp end, so to speak. In the end, it was their plan to hijack illicit diamonds belonging to the President and his ministers that finally brought the Government down.\"\n\n\"How did they ever think they could hijack a load of diamonds?\" asked Hooper.\n\n\"The President had planned to move them by light aircraft to the Botswana border, and then by road to South Africa. The two Zimbabweans contacted our Defence Attaché in Harare, who was already monitoring things for us, to see if he could organise a team of SAS to do it for them.\"\n\n\"And of course, we obliged, through Section 11,\" said Watkins, proudly.\n\n\"So it was our chaps who actually carried out the hijack, was it?\" queried Hooper.\n\n\"Everybody thinks it was a bunch of mercenaries who happened to be around at the time, but it was a very successful, if top secret little operation,\" said Algar.\n\n\"Did you say we still had a small team over there?\" enquired Watkins.\n\n\"A team of two,\" replied Sir Robin Algar. \"As a matter of fact, they're in South Africa, but returning to the UK in a few days. The two Zimbabwean chaps eventually went there to join the father of one of them, an evicted white farmer who has set up a new business running a vineyard. Current assessment is that they are now at no further risk, so as soon as our chaps have returned their hired motorbike and paid a few bills, they can book a flight home.\"\n\n\"While we're on the subject of Section 11,\" said Sir Wilfred Forsyth, \"I heard a rather worrying piece of gossip the other day from the Ambassador in Berlin about a team of people, apparently from Section 11, running a bit loose in Germany, and wondered if anyone else had heard anything.\"\n\nGiven that both 'C' and the Director of GCHQ reported to Forsyth, it was a pretty fair bet that he knew what he was talking about.\n\n\"I knew there was a team in Germany for a short while,\" replied Sir Robin Algar, \"but I would hardly describe them as having 'run a bit loose', as you put it. What have you heard?\"\n\n\"According to my sources,\" replied Forsyth, \"the team virtually kidnapped a handful of German football supporters, robbed them of their world cup tickets, and then dumped them in the Bavarian Alps to find their own way home. Fortunately, there's been no official complaint from the German Government yet, but it could be highly embarrassing if there was.\"\n\n\"What makes you think they were from S.11?\"\n\n\"Off the record briefings by the FA press office, as a matter of fact, although fortunately nothing seems to have appeared in print – yet.\"\n\nSir Robin Algar grinned, and briefed his colleagues on the background to the operation. \"It seems to me that it went rather well, and certainly succeeded in foiling a rather stupid plot.\"\n\n\"How did the Head of Section 11 – Jarvis is his name, isn't it? – how did Jarvis justify using taxpayers' money to look after a footballer?\" asked the man from the Treasury. \"Surely the FA could have found a couple of nightclub bouncers to do the job?\"\n\n\"He thought it would be a good training exercise, apparently,\" replied Algar. \"And in the end, the FA agreed to meet all the costs, so there was no great call on public funds.\"\n\n\"I wonder if he ever stopped to consider the consequences of failure,\" pondered James Burgess of the Home Office.\n\n\"I agree that it was a rather stupid operation to mount,\" said Algar, anticipating a growing hostility. \"We spend more than enough training his people as it is, and we hold regular exercises to make sure his teams are up to the job without this sort of stunt being in the least bit necessary.\"\n\n\"I have to say,\" ventured Forsyth, \"that I sometimes ask myself if Jarvis is altogether suitable for that job. He seems to me to be a bit of a wild card – a cowboy.\"\n\n\"Oddly enough,\" replied Sir Robin, \"I have had the same sneaking doubts myself from time to time. He has come forward with some pretty hare-brained schemes in the past, and yet at other times has done a very professional job. As you know, he reports directly to me, so I see both sides of the man.\"\n\n\"How long has he been there?\" asked Sir Len Watkins from the Defence Ministry.\n\n\"Nearly five years now, I think.\"\n\n\"Time for a change then, perhaps,\" suggested Watkins.\n\n\"We could certainly move him back into SIS if you'd be happy to have him, Wilfred,\" replied Algar.\n\n\"I suppose so. We could find something useful for him to do, I'm sure.\"\n\n\"And he's by no means been a failure at Section 11,\" Algar reminded his colleagues. \"He made a good job of the Northern Ireland operation, with all its twists and turns, and was very successful in the recent African job, which we've just been talking about.\"\n\n\"Our man in Harare, Group Captain Bowman, did more than Jarvis ever did, as I've said before,\" grumbled Watkins.\n\n\"I tend to agree,\" said the Foreign Office man. \"If we are going to move Jarvis, it might be a good idea to do it sooner rather than later, in case that nuclear job suddenly needs their attention.\"\n\n\"Yes, that would certainly be a major operation, and could be tricky, as we discussed earlier,\" said Algar.\n\n\"Is this the nuclear physicist?\" queried Burgess of the Home Office.\n\n\"That's the case,\" confirmed Algar. \"We will get an update on that when we meet next week, but it does seem as if the threat is real and growing.\"\n\n\"If it does need some kind of action by Section 11, it will be a big operation needing very careful planning and co-ordination, probably over a long period of time. It might just be beyond Jarvis. It's probably time he had a change of scenery, anyway\" continued Forsyth, \"so if there's anyone better than him, I would recommend getting him in place as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"Anyone in mind, Robin?\" asked Watkins, from Defence.\n\n\"One of your chaps, as a matter of fact,\" replied the Cabinet Secretary. \"The only man I know of who could handle that sort of organisation is Major Bill Clayton.\"\n\n\"Of Northern Ireland fame, you mean?\" (read 'Their Own Game' by Duncan James)\n\n\"That's the fellow. In Cyprus now, but not far short of finishing his tour, I should think.\"\n\n\"Won't he be a bit out of touch, after three years abroad?\" queried Burgess.\n\n\"People like Clayton, doing that sort of work, make sure they don't get out of touch,\" replied Watkins huffily.\n\nThe whole committee knew exactly whom Sir Robin Algar was talking about, and his background. They talked for some time about his suitability, and how he might be persuaded to take on the role of Head of Section. The debate about whether or not Jarvis should be replaced appeared to be over almost before it had begun.\n\n***\nCHAPTER THREE – WHO KILLED UNCLE EDWARD?\n\nThe evening sun was dropping below the sparkling Mediterranean horizon as the couple finished their meal.\n\nIt was their favourite place. A table on the harbour wall, across the dusty road from the small bar run by Davros and Athena.\n\nIt reminded Major Bill Clayton very much of the Old Harbour in Paphos, before it had been ruined by tourists. This tiny fishing village of Kopufano was not that far from Paphos, but far enough away to have escaped the attentions of most visitors, and to remain unspoilt and undiscovered by the holiday trade. There weren't many places like Kopufano left in Cyprus these days. But because they lived on the island, Bill and his wife Catherine were able to explore the dusty tracks and rugged coastline away from the towering hotels with their sun beds and swimming pools.\n\nBill's work at the Joint Services Signals Unit at Ayios Nikolaos in the Troodos Mountains was altogether different from his work in Northern Ireland. Intelligence work still, but altogether different. Here, he helped to run what was effectively a listening post on the Middle East. He knew, or could find out, everything that was going on in the region, much as he had known everything that was going on in Northern Ireland while he was there. Exhausted, he had left the province to sort itself out politically, having almost single handedly resolved the security situation. With top-level support from Downing Street and Washington, he had managed to rid the island of its arsenals of terrorist weapons, empty the terrorists' bank accounts, and, finally, get rid of the terrorists themselves.\n\nIt had not been without its risks. His first wife of only a few months had been killed by a car bomb undoubtedly meant for him, after only a few weeks at the Army Headquarters outside Belfast. His Uncle had been assassinated in a quiet Sussex village, and a close colleague and trusted agent had been murdered – a murder he could perhaps have prevented if he had been a bit quicker off the mark. Not only was his own life under constant threat while he was there, but so was that of his new wife, Catherine. They had not been married then. She was a member of the SAS at the time they met, and a pivotal part of his intelligence team. Before being sent to Northern Ireland, she had served in Iraq, where she had been captured and tortured before escaping and somehow making her way back across the desert. Still traumatised, she had not hesitated to get involved again in active operations.\n\nCatherine had eventually resigned from the Army, and she and Bill Clayton had married and moved to Cyprus, to get away from further danger, while the politicians got on with the long job of reconciling and uniting a previously divided but now peaceful island.\n\nAnd today was a special day in that process. A day when the two sides of the political divide came together at a grand ceremony in Belfast to mark the island's unification under the United States flag.\n\nBusy though Bill was in Cyprus, there was now no immediate threat to his life as there had been in the past, and the couple had begun to relax and enjoy their return to civilised life. It was a life which allowed them time together, time to relax, and time to eat out at charming local restaurants like that run by Davros and Athena.\n\nDavros still went fishing from time to time in his battered launch, but no longer made his living from the sea. He caught enough to supply his small café bar across the road from the tiny harbour, and friends and neighbours in the village eagerly bought anything left. Davros spoke very little English, but his wife, Athena, had attended university in Cambridge many years ago, and still had a love of the place and of the English people. The couple at their table on the harbour wall were always welcome, as it gave her the chance to practice the language. They also contributed more to the bar's meagre income than the villagers could who chose to eat there. They were a nice couple, and Athena knew he worked for the British military somewhere high in the Troodos Mountains, where all the big dish aerials were sited, but she could only guess what he did.\n\nBill and Catherine had finished their early supper. A simple meal of local fish caught by Davros, with a green salad and boiled potatoes. They were enjoying a glass of Keo brandy as the air cooled and the sun set. The brandy was by way of celebration of the events in Belfast. But the tranquillity was broken by Athena, rushing from the café.\n\n\"Come quickly, come quickly,\" she shouted waving her arms wildly. \"Come quickly, and listen. Bad news from England.\"\n\nThey rushed across the road and into the tiny kitchen at the back of the bar, in time to hear the end of the BBC World Service news.\n\nBy all accounts, the Belfast explosion, or possibly a series of explosions, had been bigger than anything ever seen before in Northern Ireland, or on the mainland.\n\nIt was certain that many people had been killed from among the VIPs and dignitaries attending the independence celebrations, and countless others injured, many seriously. It was too early to say who had died, but the news broadcast was immediately followed by solemn music.\n\nThe couple slowly retraced their steps to their table, and sat in silence for a few moments.\n\n\"Who the hell could have done that?\" Bill asked, talking almost to himself as he looked out across the sea.\n\nThe girl shook her head.\n\n\"I doubt it was the Irish,\" he said.\n\nCatherine shook her head again. \"I suppose that's a problem for the Americans, now,\" she said.\n\n\"We'll have to help them,\" he said. \"It could just be al-Qa'Aeda, getting at us and the Americans at the same time. They've wanted to do that for years. We may even be able to pick something up from here.\"\n\n\"I suppose you might.\" she replied.\n\n\"We should have been there, you know,\" he said to her, quietly. \"Today. We were invited.\"\n\n\"I know.\" she replied.\n\n\"If it hadn't been for you, we would probably have gone, too.\" he said. \"In a strange sort of way, I quite wanted to go, really, although I wasn't entirely sure.\"\n\n\"I had a feeling we shouldn't,\" she replied.\n\n\"You always were a canny chap,\" he said.\n\n\"I just didn't want to go back, after all this time.\"\n\n\"Why?\" he asked.\n\n\"We're so happy here,\" she said. \"I didn't want to break the spell.\"\n\n\"You're right, of course,\" he said. \"I had mixed feelings about it myself, to be honest. About meeting the old crowd again.\"\n\n\"We may never meet some of them again, after today.\"\n\nThey reached across the table, and held hands.\n\n\"Take me home,\" she said.\n\nThey crossed the road to pay for their supper. Athena and Davros were in animated conversation.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" Athena said to the couple. \"Terrible, terrible.\"\n\nThey nodded, and walked to the car, arm in arm.\n\nNeither of them had noticed the two men on a motorbike, who followed them discretely to their home at Mercury Barracks.\n\nBut the men had gone out of their way to avoid attracting attention. Not for them the usual 1,000cc Honda or BMW or Kawasaki that they might have used in London, or Washington or Moscow. Instead, they had picked up a 50cc Vespa motor scooter, typical of the sort used by all the local Cypriots for carrying their produce to and from market, complete with wicker basket. Except that this one, although it had been specially adapted to sound like all the others, had a supercharged engine in case of need. An RAF Hercules had delivered it, together with a very dilapidated Citroën 2CV van – also with a suped-up engine – that they and the other members of their small team also used form time to time, just for a change.\n\n***\n\nIt was some three weeks after the Belfast tragedy that a young, tanned local man rang the doorbell at the Claytons' home. It was a Saturday afternoon, and Bill was inside watching football on satellite TV, while Catherine pottered about in the small but neat garden. She heard the doorbell, and went to answer it so as not disturb Bill.\n\nThe young man politely touched the brim of his battered straw hat.\n\n\"Feesh?\" he said. \"You want fresh feesh?\"\n\nHe thumbed towards the old Citroën van outside.\n\n\"I haff plenty feesh, fresh today,\" he announced with a heavy accent. \"You look?\" he invited Catherine, taking a step towards the van.\n\n\"Cheap,\" he added\n\nShe nodded, and followed the youth down the short path to the road.\n\n\"See!\" he said proudly, waving towards the trays of fish laid out in the back of the van.\n\n\"See! This red snapper; awful tasty!\" He proudly held up a plump fish by its tail.\n\n\"What are those?\" asked Catherine, pointing.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the young man, stooping to pick up a handful of smaller silver fish from the tray.\n\n\"Ah!\" he said again. \"Dees – I not know for sure how you call them.\"\n\nObviously his English was poor.\n\nHe looked hard at Catherine with his bright blue eyes, as if summing her up.\n\n\"Dees.... ,\" he said again, fumbling for words, and shaking his head.\n\nHe paused for a moment, still looking intently at her.\n\nEventually he said, in perfect English. \"Actually, I think the bloody things are sardines. But I need to see the Major urgently. Is he in?\" he asked, knowing very well that he was.\n\nCatherine was taken aback, but only for a moment.\n\n\"Wait,\" she said. \"I'll get him to come and look at the fish.\"\n\nShe turned towards the house.\n\n\"Incidentally, they are sardines,\" she said with a grin.\n\nThe young man, whoever he was, politely touched the frayed brim of his hat, keeping up the pretence, and carefully replaced the fish on to their tray.\n\nCatherine returned with Bill, now equally mystified.\n\nThey all peered into the back of the van.\n\n\"I have a message for you,\" said the young man quietly. \"I'm told you will remember from Northern Ireland days that nothing was to be put on paper about your particular operation. 'No paper, no leaks', I believe was the theory. Which is why I'm here, trying to sell this stinking stuff,\" he explained.\n\n\"Go on,\" said Bill.\n\n\"There's a chap coming over from London, due later today, who wants an urgent but private meeting with you,\" the man continued. \"Both of you.\"\n\n\"Who?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Sir Robin Algar, Cabinet Secretary. Says you know him.\"\n\nBill frowned. _What on earth could he want?_ he wondered.\n\n\"Over here for a private long weekend break, with his wife,\" explained the man. \"That's the cover story. Would like to join you for lunch tomorrow at your favourite place in Kopufano. He thought about 1230 hours would be nice for a drink first. OK?\"\n\n\"OK,\" replied Bill. \"We'll be there.\"\n\n\"So shall I,\" said the man. \"But you won't see me. Now what about these damned fish?\"\n\n\"I'll have half a dozen sardines,\" said Bill, reaching for his wallet. \"I'm rather partial to those on a barbeque.\"\n\n\"And I think the Captain next door might like the snapper,\" said Catherine. \"Try him.\"\n\n\"I've got to try the whole damned road, now I've started,\" said the man, \"or someone will smell a rat.\"\n\n\"Rotten fish, more like it,\" said Bill.\n\nThe man wrapped the sardines in a piece of old newspaper, counted out the change and said \"Sank you\" before walking round to the house next door.\n\n***\n\nRobin Algar was there when they arrived. But no longer the Sir Robin Algar that Bill had dealt with before. No smart striped suit, with white shirt and gold cuff links. No neatly knotted silk tie, or polished black shoes. This time, the country's most senior public servant, Head of the Civil Service and Cabinet Secretary, was in faded beige Chinos, open-necked floral short-sleeved shirt and sandals, wearing a straw hat as protection from the mid-day sun, sitting on a green plastic chair and sipping cheap local wine.\n\nHe was alone.\n\nHe greeted Bill warmly as he was introduced to Catherine, whom he had not met before.\n\n\"It's so nice to see you,\" he began. \"I hope you don't mind, but I've left Betty, my wife, sunning herself by one of the pools at the Coral Beach Hotel in Paphos. I didn't think she'd be too interested in our little chat.\"\n\nAthena bustled over to get more drinks. The menu was the same as always.\n\n\"There are live fish in the tank, caught by Davros only this morning, if you want to choose something really fresh,\" she explained, pointing to the large glass container at the front of the shop, with fish of all shapes, sizes and colours, as well as lobsters, swimming about, awaiting their fate.\n\n\"I don't think I could!\" said Algar. \"I shall let my friends here choose, as they come here often.\"\n\n\"We usually go for baked fish, with boiled potatoes and salad,\" explained Catherine. \"Simple but good.\"\n\n\"How about some fresh prawns to start?\" suggested Athena.\n\n\"Sounds perfect,\" said Robin Algar. \"And perhaps a bottle of your best white wine, to go with it. This is my treat today.\"\n\nAthena wasn't at all sure they had a 'best' wine, but nodded and gave Bill and Catherine a sideways glance. They knew what she meant!\n\nAs soon as she had gone, Robin Algar said, \"You probably know, Bill, that the structure of our intelligence services has been changed somewhat, and that I now play a bigger role than I did. The old post of Permanent Secretary, Intelligence, Security and Resilience has been abolished, and the responsibilities passed to me. That means that I now chair the Joint Intelligence Committee. But I'm sure you must be dying to know the reason for this clandestine meeting. I'm not used to this sort of thing, y'know,\" he added, rather embarrassed.\n\n\"Neither are we, as a matter of fact,\" replied Bill, \"not any more. But you're right about our curiosity – it's killing us, although we guessed it must have something to do with that terrible incident in Belfast.\"\n\n\"In a way, it has,\" replied Algar. \"That really was an appalling climax to years of hard work and patient diplomacy, not to mention your own very personal role in the run up to it. But I'm pleased to say that the Americans have settled in very well, and that progress is being made as planned under their leadership. Ireland is still basically peaceful, for the first time in decades.\"\n\n\"Well, that's good news at least,\" replied Catherine.\n\n\"I've been giving a good deal of thought – and time – to who could have been behind the atrocity that day,\" said Bill. \"As you probably know, my role here is to monitor what's going on in the region, and we work closely with the Americans and other allies, as well as with GCHQ and the security services. I've made a start checking through all the transcripts and intercepts, going back several months, to see if I can find any clue as to who might have been responsible, but so far I've drawn a blank. Even mobile phone chat between people we have a special interest in has not given us any sort of lead, using a key-word search and everything. It could be anyone, and not necessarily from this part of the world - al-Qa'Aeda, the Taliban, Iran, anyone.\"\n\n\"It's good of you to go to that trouble,\" said Algar, \"but like you, no-one seems to have anything like a clear idea of who could have been the perpetrators. The Americans are still in a dreadful state of shock over the event, as they had been responsible for the security arrangements for the celebrations, and thought they had covered everything.\"\n\n\"We should have been there, you know,\" said Catherine. \"We were invited, but decided not to go.\"\n\n\"Me too,\" said Robin Algar. \"I also decided not to go, although I really should have gone, to support the Prime Minister. But I honestly felt I'd had enough by then.\"\n\n\"That was partly why we didn't go, as well,\" agreed Catherine. \"It was tempting, but we were so happily settled here, we really didn't want to go back.\"\n\n\"How long have you been here now?\" asked Algar.\n\n\"Getting on for two years,\" replied Bill Clayton. \"It took you officials and politicians such a long time to sort out your part of the plan, didn't it, but the time has gone quickly, really.\"\n\n\"You'll be looking for a new posting soon, I suppose?\" suggested Algar.\n\n\"I'd rather not think about it!\" said Clayton. \"We'll stay here as long as you like, thanks.\"\n\n\"I can understand that,\" agreed Robin Algar, looking out over sparkling Mediterranean.\n\n\"But I'm up for promotion again soon – I turned it down once, to come here instead, you know,\" said the Major.\n\n\"I had heard,\" replied Algar. \"And that's one of the reasons why I'm here,\" he added, mysteriously. \"But there's something I need to tell you first – something you need to know after all this time about an incident which happened while you were in Northern Ireland.\"\n\n\"Which incident?\" asked Bill, curiously. \"There were so many.\"\n\n\"Personal, really,\" replied Algar, \"and one which I remember you took very hard and did your best to resolve.\"\n\n\"Not the death of my first wife?\" asked Bill, casting a glance at Catherine.\n\n\"No, no, not that,\" responded Sir Robin. \"The murder of your uncle, Edward Benbow.\"\n\n\"Surely not a new development after all this time?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Not that, either,\" said Algar. \"Rather, an old development you didn't know about at the time, but which I must now tell you about.\"\n\n\"This sounds interesting,\" remarked Catherine. \"I remember the time well, since Bill and I actually went to the scene of the murder. A pretty village in Sussex, it was.\"\n\n\"Fittleworth,\" Bill reminded her. \"That's where Uncle Edward lived. Not that he was a blood relation as such. He married my aunt, but he was a nice enough chap, and did well in the Army – Royal Artillery.\"\n\n\"Did well afterwards, too,\" Catherine reminded him. \"Worked for the Foreign Office I seem to remember.\"\n\n\"Let me briefly remind you of what happened,\" said Sir Robin, \"and please correct me if I get anything wrong. You will recall that Benbow was shot by two men who drove passed him on a motorbike. A man fishing on the river nearby saw the incident, but was not close enough to be a witness of any value. Sussex police got nowhere with their investigation, and it was eventually you, Bill, who stumbled across the fact that it was an IRA weapon that had been used.\"\n\n\"The forensic people eventually managed to link the murder weapon to three crimes in Northern Ireland,\" said Bill, frowning, \"but only because I rescued the bullets from the Sussex police.\"\n\n\"Quite,\" agreed Algar. \"And before that, you went off on a wild goose chase because of an envelope with your uncle's name and address on it.\"\n\n\"I remember,\" said Bill. \"That damned envelope caused me no end of trouble.\"\n\n\"At one time, it even led you to believe that Alistair Vaughan, the Head of Security at the Bank of England, had arranged for your uncle to be killed,\" Algar reminded him with a smile.\n\n\"That was because you passed the envelope to him, Sir Robin – it contained the list of terrorist bank accounts which he was supposed to deal with,\" Bill said. \"And our double agent friend had also set us off on a wild goose chase by suggesting that Vaughan was an IRA fund raiser, with links to a Libyan arms dealer.\"\n\n\"And your uncle was an arms inspector at the time, checking up on Libya's promise to give up their weapons of mass destruction. So it was a perfectly plausible conclusion to reach, given what you knew, that Benbow's murder was somehow linked to our own operation in Northern Ireland.\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" agreed Bill.\n\n\"Which it was,\" confirmed the Cabinet Secretary. \"But not quite in the way you suspected, I fear.\"\n\n\"How do you mean?\" asked Catherine.\n\n\"Let me explain,\" said Algar. \"Your uncle, Bill, was a clever man. Retired as a major in the gunners, got a degree in nuclear physics afterwards and worked for the Foreign Office as an arms inspector, much of the time in Iraq until he retired again. He was recruited later on a special contract for his work in Libya.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Bill.\n\n\"And this is where I have to tell you things you didn't know,\" said Robin Algar, taking a sip of his wine. \"Edward Benbow was actually an arms dealer. He was helping Libya to sell illegal arms to terrorist groups and others, in spite of their declared policy of giving that up. He was also negotiating to sell nuclear secrets to Iran, as a matter of interest.\"\n\nBill and Catherine sat back, aghast.\n\n\"I find that impossible to believe,\" said Bill. \"My uncle was always a pillar of society.\"\n\n\"So he appeared,\" responded Algar. \"But he had been under surveillance for some time. The fact was, though, that he was far too useful for us to have pulled him out immediately. We needed to let him continue trading, so to speak, to identify his network of contacts and gather sufficient evidence to be able to take political action at some time in the future.\"\n\n\"I'll be damned!\" muttered Bill. \"I had no idea.\"\n\n\"And you were supposed to know everything,\" Catherine reminded him, with a grin.\n\n\"Don't be hard on Bill,\" Robin said. \"The last people you ever suspect of any wrong doing are your own relatives.\"\n\n\"That's true enough,\" Bill agreed. \"But it still doesn't explain why he was murdered or by whom, does it? We know it was an IRA weapon, and that the gun was eventually discovered in the flat of Father Sean Doyle, our double agent friend.\"\n\n\"This gets even more difficult for me to have to explain,\" said Sir Robin. \"Edward Benbow had made a lot of money shipping arms to the IRA, and was about to make a lot more until you and your colleagues arranged for the good ship 'Hercules' to be blown out of the water. That was stuffed full of a new consignment for them, and your uncle had several hundred thousand pounds riding on their safe delivery. He was furious. He could see his very lucrative business coming swiftly to an end unless he managed to get you out of the way.\"\n\n\"How did he intend to do that?\" asked an increasingly incredulous Clayton.\n\n\"Simple,\" replied Algar. \"He had a contract out on you.\"\n\n\"You mean he wanted Bill killed?\" stuttered Catherine. \"His own nephew? His own flesh and blood?\"\n\n\"That's exactly what I do mean, I'm afraid,\" admitted Sir Robin.\n\n\"But somebody got him first, thank the Lord,\" said Catherine. \"But why would the IRA do that, when he was supplying them with weapons? It just doesn't make sense.\"\n\n\"It wasn't the IRA,\" replied Algar. \"He was taken out to protect you, Bill. You were deemed to be infinitely more valuable than he was, so we had to get rid of him before he harmed you in anyway.\"\n\nBill and Catherine sat in disbelieving silence.\n\n\"But the murder weapon?\" asked Bill. \"It was an old IRA hand gun. I checked that out myself.\"\n\n\"Planted deliberately,\" said Algar. \"A red herring, specially for your benefit, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"I'll be damned!\" exclaimed Bill again, lapsing into further silence.\n\n\"Do you mean that the Government actually sanctioned the murder of my uncle?\" he eventually asked.\n\n\"Yes. That's the way it was, Bill,\" replied Algar. \"It was you or him, and we wanted you to keep on with what you were doing. We got to him first, thank goodness.\"\n\n\"Who exactly is 'we'?\" asked Bill. \"The two men on a motorbike? Were they part of it?\"\n\n\"They were ours,\" replied Sir Robin simply. \"And that brings me to the most difficult part of my visit. I have to tell you about the organisation they worked for.\"\n\nHe paused. \"I could do with some more coffee, could you?\"\n\n\"And a Brandy,\" said Bill, attracting Athena's attention. \"But why do you need to tell me now, after all this time?\"\n\nAlgar looked at him closely.\n\n\"Because we want you to take over the organisation, that's why. We want you to run it.\"\n\nBill and Catherine looked at him in stunned silence.\n\n\"But why me?\" asked Bill eventually.\n\n\"Because Cabinet colleagues agree with me that there is no one better,\" said the Cabinet Secretary simply. \"The man currently in charge – you may know of Alan Jarvis – has proved himself not to be entirely satisfactory, judging by recent events, and we have agreed that he should be replaced quickly. That's strictly confidential at the moment, of course. Jarvis knows nothing, yet.\"\n\n\"I've heard of Jarvis,\" said Bill. \"He was a Section head in SIS, wasn't he?\"\n\n\"He'll go back there,\" replied Algar.\n\n\"But he is a Civil Servant, and I'm not,\" said Clayton, almost looking for an excuse to refuse the post.\n\n\"You would become one if you accepted my offer.\"\n\nClayton shook his head.\n\n\"Let me tell you briefly about the terms that have been agreed if you should decide to take over Section 11,\" offered Sir Robin. \"You will be given immediate and substantive promotion to full Colonel, and your retirement from the Army would carry with it a full pension in that rank. MOD will sort out all the details. Your new appointment would be in an equivalent Civil Service rank, on maximum salary, with a further pension in that rank when you eventually retire. I shall make all those arrangements. A flat in London goes with the job too, by the way. Section 11 is a top-secret organisation, and you would report direct to me.\"\n\n\"I have heard about Section 11, of course,\" said Bill, \"but I really know nothing about it.\"\n\n\"That's good news, in a way,\" said Algar with a smile. \"At least it means that the security surrounding it is tight. If you don't know, then no one else will. Let me tell you in a few words about its role. You will obviously be given a full briefing before you join, if you should so decide.\"\n\nWhen the Cabinet Secretary had finished, Clayton said, \"Sounds interesting enough, but I hope you don't expect me to decide now. If you do, the answer's 'No'.\"\n\n\"Of course you must discuss all this with Catherine,\" agreed Algar, \"but the sooner you can make a decision, one way or the other, the better from everyone's point of view. We have a particularly difficult and sensitive operation coming up, and I'd like the new Head of Section to be in on it from the start.\"\n\n\"I'll get word to you as soon as possible,\" agreed Bill.\n\n\"A simple yes or no will do,\" said Algar. \"But now I must get back, or my wife will wonder what has happened to me.\"\n\nHe stood to leave.\n\n\"Shall I ring for a taxi for you?\" offered Catherine.\n\n\"Kind of you, but my transport is already here.\"\n\nThey looked around, but there was no vehicle in sight. Only an old Citroën 2CV, which clattered along the quayside. It stopped near them, and the young man in a tattered straw hat struggled out of the drivers seat.\n\n\"I remember now,\" said Bill. \"He called yesterday selling fish, and said he would be around today.\"\n\n\"We've been keeping a watchful eye on you again, ever since the Belfast incident. Just in case.\"\n\nHe shook hands with Bill and Catherine, and walked across to the van.\n\n\"Hardly a staff car,\" grinned the Cabinet Secretary, as he climbed awkwardly into the passenger seat, \"but it will do to get me back to the hotel. By the way, it will be on your inventory if you take over!\"\n\n\"And so shall I,\" said the man in the straw hat. \"I never did sell that red snapper, either.\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER FOUR \\- YOU'RE FIRED!\n\nMajor Bill Clayton and his wife Catherine watched in disbelief as Britain's most senior civil servant squeezed himself into the battered and ancient Citroën 2CV van. He waved cheerily as the vehicle clattered away from the harbour at Kopufano, and headed down the dusty road towards Paphos and his five-star hotel.\n\n\"Well!\" exclaimed Catherine. \"What on earth do you make of all that?\"\n\n\"Not a lot at the moment,\" replied Bill. \"My mind's in a whirl, what with the news about Uncle Edward, and the offer of a new job all at once.\"\n\n\"And instant double promotion.\"\n\n\"I'm not so sure I want to leave the Army, how ever attractive the new job sounds.\"\n\n\"There's a lot to talk about, suddenly,\" said Catherine. \"Let's get back to the house, and I'll do some eggs and bacon for supper.\"\n\n\"We don't need to make any decisions tonight, thank goodness,\" said Bill.\n\n\"Quite right,\" replied his wife. \"You can sleep on it and we'll talk it over again tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure I'll get much sleep tonight,\" sighed Bill. \"And I've got a busy day ahead of me – Monday always is, catching up with everything that's happened over the weekend.\"\n\n\"It'll help to take your mind off things if you're occupied,\" said Catherine sagely.\n\nThey drove back to their Army married quarter in silence.\n\nEventually, Bill said, \"It's very flattering, really, to be asked to take on a job like this.\"\n\n\"When you think of all the people they could have selected,\" said Catherine. \"I'm proud of you.\"\n\n\"It sounds a very high profile job. I just wish I knew more about the organisation and what it does, but there are a couple of people I could ask.\"\n\n\"Sir Robin said you'd be given a full briefing.\"\n\n\"But only after I've said 'yes', - if I do. I need to know more now, really, before I decide. I think I'll get on the phone this evening after supper.\"\n\n\"Your friend PJ would help, I'm sure,\" suggested Catherine. \"He's quite high up in the Defence Ministry.\"\n\n\"Just what I was thinking. He runs the Intelligence outfit, so should know what's going on.\"\n\n\"From what Sir Robin said, Section 11 seems to be responsible for looking after people who are under threat in some way or another, but who are judged to be a valuable national asset and who should be guarded. It sounds to be rather like the Royalty and Diplomatic Protection squad of the Met. Police, but with rather less high profile customers.\"\n\n\"I remember he mentioned the head of a large drugs company, who had been targeted by animal rights people. I suppose someone has to look after national assets of that sort, even if it is done secretly and without their knowledge. Could be interesting, I suppose,\" said Bill\n\n\"They seem to have looked after you well enough in Northern Ireland,\" said Catherine. \"And you knew nothing about their operation until just now.\"\n\n\"True enough. I still find it hard to believe what he said about Uncle Edward, though.\"\n\nThey lapsed into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts about the future and what it may hold. As they pulled into the drive of their house, Catherine noticed a man on an old Vesper motor scooter parked at the end of their road. She said nothing to Bill at the time.\n\n***\n\nBill had enjoyed his egg and bacon supper that Catherine had prepared, but he couldn't wait to get on the phone. He excused himself from washing up after their meal and retired to the study.\n\nSoon to be Colonel and almost as soon to be retired from the Army, he needed to know more about the job he had been asked to take on, and he needed to know quickly. He had told Catherine that he knew a couple of people he could talk to, and he was keen to get hold of one of them straight away. She had herself suggested General Pearson-Jones, who was not only an old friend, but was also Chief of Defence Intelligence Staff in the Ministry of Defence. And that made him a member of the Joint Intelligence Committee, chaired by Bill's recent visitor. If PJ, as the General was known, didn't know about Section 11 and what it did, then nobody would.\n\n\"I've just won a fiver, thanks to you,\" said PJ brightly, when he answered the phone.\n\n\"How come?\" asked Bill\n\n\"I knew you'd be on the blower, but you're even quicker than Robin Algar thought you would be! Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir. If you were expecting me to ring, then you also know why I'm ringing, and what I need to know,\" replied Bill.\n\n\"Of course I do,\" replied the General. \"And don't call me sir, either. You're a civilian now, near as damn it. How was Robin Algar? On good form I hope. He was looking forward to a quick trip to Cyprus.\"\n\n\"We had a very interesting afternoon,\" replied Bill.\n\n\"I bet you did! And a good lunch, I gather.\"\n\n\"Has he been on the phone already?\"\n\n\"Beat you to it, Bill, but only just. He sounded very hopeful that you'd accept his offer, but guessed you'd be on to me for an informal chat.\"\n\n\"I need to know more before I can make a decision, PJ.\"\n\n\"Of course you do, old boy. Why don't I drift over to see you for a day or so? Get Catherine to make up a bed for me – I don't like the Mess at Ayios Nikolaos, although it's some time since I made a visit. Robin has authorised my trip and has squared it with the powers that be here.\"\n\n\"When can you come?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"There's a flight out of Brize Norton early tomorrow morning which the RAF says gets to Akrotiri just before lunch.\"\n\n\"I'll be there to meet you,\" promised Bill.\n\n\"I shall expect a meal at your favourite eating place, which Robin says is excellent. Food and wine good, the scenery stunning, and quiet enough for a proper chat without being overheard.\"\n\n\"I'm glad he enjoyed it.\"\n\n\"Anything special you need to know?\" asked PJ.\n\n\"No doubt, if I took the job, my formal briefing on arrival would cover current activities and how the section is structured, and so on, but I'd be interested to know now about the people I would be working with as much as anything.\"\n\n\"Not a bad bunch, on the whole. I know most of the top people there, and you've got a very good number two.\"\n\n\"Anyone I know?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Of course it's someone you know – you know everybody in this business, just about. As this is an open line, I'll tell you when I get there. See you tomorrow.\"\n\nWith that, the line went dead.\n\nBill got on to Air Movements at RAF Akrotiri to get the arrival time of the next day's Tri-Star from Brize Norton.\n\n\"We've got a visitor for a couple of days,\" Bill told Catherine. \"PJ's coming over for a chat.\"\n\n\"How nice!\"\n\n\"Apparently, Robin Algar has already had a word with him. PJ should know all about Section 11, since he's a full member of the Joint Intelligence Committee. We'll have a chat over a quiet lunch at Athena's place – again. Robin has recommended it! But he'd like to stay with us rather than in the Mess. Is that OK?\"\n\n\"Of course it is. This could be a very useful visit. I'm glad you invited him.\"\n\n\"I didn't,\" said Bill. \"He invited himself before I had the chance. He says the number two at the Section is an excellent chap, who I know, but he wouldn't say who it was.\"\n\n***\n\nIt was very late in the evening when Bill got back from Akrotiri having seen PJ on his plane home. The phone rang. Bill took the call in the study.\n\n\"This could be quite like old times,\" said Bill with a grin when he returned. \"You'll never guess who that was.\"\n\n\"Tell me.\"\n\n\"None other than Commander Nick Marsden. Like us, he didn't go to the ceremonies in Belfast, so he escaped as we did, thank God. He sends his love, by the way.\"\n\n\"I'm so glad he's all right. Such a nice man, but what on earth did he want suddenly?\" asked Catherine. \"We haven't been in touch for simply ages.\"\n\n\"As you say, a really nice chap, and professionally, we got on like a house on fire together,\" Bill said. \"In fact, I think he was probably one of the best deputies I've ever had.\"\n\n\"So why did he ring?\" asked Catherine again.\n\n\"He's heard I've been offered a new job, and wants me to take it.\"\n\n\"Why, particularly?\"\n\n\"Because he's Deputy Head of Section 11, that's why.\"\n\n***\n\nAfter endless hours of discussion and debate between him and Catherine following PJ's visit, it was eventually late on Wednesday afternoon before Bill got on the secure telephone line from his office to the Cabinet Office, and spoke to Sir Robin Algar. At the end of that conversation, the Cabinet Secretary got on to his opposite number in the Ministry of Defence.\n\n\"Clayton has agreed to take on Section 11,\" he announced to Sir Len Watkins. \"We now need to move fast. He says he will need at least a week for a hand over in Cyprus, so I hope you can find a replacement and get him out there as soon as possible. Then, once I have a date, I shall have the unenviable job of telling Jarvis that he's being moved back into his old Department. Meanwhile, your people will need to arrange for Clayton's promotion, his retirement and his pension, and so on, all at once.\"\n\n\"Leave it to me,\" replied Watkins. \"Hopefully, I shall be able to let you have a date for the change-over later this afternoon.\"\n\n\"Excellent,\" replied Algar.\n\n\"Is Clayton prepared to move fast?\"\n\n\"So he says, although as I've mentioned already, he wants a week for a handover. We shall do all we can to make the transition as easy as possible for him, and his wife, and no doubt you will do the same.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Watkins. \"I shall make sure my people keep the red-tape and bullshit down to an absolute minimum. We'll get him moved, and sweep up the paperwork later if necessary. I've already put the Army on notice to get cracking as soon as I say so, if the decision goes the way we wanted – which it has.\"\n\n\"How long do you reckon, then?\"\n\n\"With any luck, Clayton should be yours within a fortnight.\"\n\n\"Good. Keep in touch, and let's tell colleagues at next week's JIC meeting.\"\n\n***\n\nIt was Thursday morning when Bill Clayton got the first of many phone calls from the Military Secretary's office in London. Things had moved fast.\n\n\"Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel,\" said the official. \"We're sorry that, at the same time, you will be leaving the Army, but that's the way the powers-that-be want it, so that's the way it's going to be. I rather gather that they want you in your new post in double-quick time.\"\n\n\"So I believe,\" said Bill.\n\n\"We've identified a replacement for you over there. I'm sure you know Major Julian Evans of the Royal Signals?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Bill. \"I know him well. We were at Sandhurst together.\"\n\n\"That helps. He's keen to come, and with a bit of shoving we should be able to get him to Cyprus by the weekend for a hand-over. He may need to take a bit of leave later to sort out things here, but I'm sure your number two can cope for a week while he's away.\"\n\n\"No problem at all there,\" replied Clayton.\n\n\"You may need to do the same yourself,\" said the man from MOD. \"As they need you here and in post ASAP, any leave you need will have to come later. We'll give you all the help we can with your domestic arrangements – packing, moving, shoving things into storage if necessary, moving in to your official flat in London and so on. Just let us know.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" said Bill.\n\n\"Just get cracking, and start preparing your hand-over brief, while Catherine starts packing.\"\n\n\"We've already started both.\"\n\n\"I might have guessed!\"\n\n***\n\nAlan Jarvis hadn't been best pleased to be summoned to the Cabinet Office at short notice. For the life of him, he couldn't guess what this unexpected visit was about. So far as he was aware, things were going well within his command, as Head of Section 11. Perhaps it was a new task his outfit was to be given, which needed the personal attention of the Cabinet Secretary, as Head of the Joint Intelligence Committee. He'd been called to briefings like that before. Or perhaps he had at last been put forward for a CBE or something equally grand. He could only guess, not least because Sir Robin's PA, who he had telephoned, had been totally unforthcoming about the purpose of his visit.\n\nHe did not have long to wait after his arrival.\n\n\"Come in, Alan,\" Sir Robin greeted him. \"Tea or coffee?\"\n\n\"Tea please.\"\n\nThe Cabinet Secretary nodded towards his secretary, who disappeared and closed the door behind her.\n\n\"I'm sure you're wondering why I've asked you to come and see me at such short notice,\" began Algar.\n\n\"As you'd expect,\" replied Jarvis, \"although I'd guess it is to brief me about a new task.\"\n\n\"Well, in a way it is, so I won't beat about the bush. The fact is that I plan to move you back to your old department, within SIS.\"\n\nJarvis frowned. This was not at all what he had been expecting. He was shocked.\n\n\"Why on earth?\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Several reasons come together all at once,\" replied Algar. \"First of all, you've been heading up Section 11 for nearly six years now, so you're about due for a change, and your old Department is keen to have you back.\" Algar almost blushed, as he realised this was a bit of an exaggeration. \"We also have an ideal candidate available as your replacement, who we will lose if we don't move quickly.\"\n\n\"And who's that, may I ask,\" asked Jarvis frostily.\n\n\"Colonel Bill Clayton.\"\n\n\"The name's familiar. Remind me,\" asked Jarvis.\n\n\"Army Int., currently in Cyprus,\" replied Algar.\n\n\"Is he the chap who made a name for himself in Northern Ireland?\"\n\n\"The same.\"\n\n\"But he's only a Major, surely. And in any case, Head of Section 11 is traditionally a civil service post, not one for the military.\"\n\n\"Clayton is retiring as a full Colonel, and will be taking over from you as a civil servant in the same rank as yourself.\"\n\n\"It sounds as if I have no choice in this,\" complained Jarvis.\n\n\"I'm afraid you don't, Alan\"\n\n\"Do I get promotion as well?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid you don't,\" said Sir Robin again.\n\n\"And when's all this supposed to happen?\"\n\n\"I must ask you to clear your desk by the end of next week, ready to hand over to Clayton the following Monday.\"\n\n\"You suddenly seem to be in a great rush to get rid of me.\" Jarvis was getting more and more angry.\n\n\"That's the way it is,\" said Algar.\n\n\"I had always thought I was doing a good job as Head of Section, and that everyone was pleased with the way things had been going. Now it seems you can't get rid of me quick enough.\"\n\n\"Since you ask,\" said Algar, leaning forward, \"there has been some disquiet voiced of late about your recent performance, and some colleagues have suggested that it is time you had a change.\"\n\n\"What brought that about in particular?\" demanded Jarvis.\n\n\"The German football affair, if you must know,\" responded the Cabinet Secretary, equally crossly. \"It was a bloody stupid thing to do, and the consequences of failure would have been little short of a disaster in terms of our relationships with the German government, not to mention the embarrassment this Government would have had to face in explaining the use of public funds on such an escapade.\"\n\n\"Nobody said anything at the time,\" protested Jarvis.\n\n\"Nobody knew much about it at the time. If we had, we'd have stopped it. As it is, colleagues now believe you are beginning to loose your grip on the job, and should be moved before you are responsible for any more serious mis-judgements of that sort.\"\n\n\"So that's it, then.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" confirmed Algar, sitting back. \"I shall expect you to conduct a thorough and professional hand-over to Clayton on Monday week. Colleagues from SIS will be in touch to arrange for your move back to your old desk.\"\n\nJarvis was so furious that he could not bring himself to wait to be asked to leave. He stormed out of the Cabinet Secretary's office, knocking a tray of tea and chocolate biscuits out of the hands of an approaching secretary as he did so.\n\n***\n\nRoger Barclay had worked in the same branch of the bank since he left school. Not much of a job, it had to be admitted, even by the standards of a local branch. His manager soon determined to keep him away from account holders, which suited Roger well as he wasn't very keen on meeting new people. And what would he do anyway, up front behind the bullet-proof glass screen? He was not much good at Maths, so didn't want to be involved in handing out cash to customers or counting it when local builders and other tradesmen brought in wads of dirty notes at the end of the week to be paid in. So he did mostly clerical work, behind the scenes, although occasionally he got involved in handling real money rather than just receipts and invoices and so on. Sometimes he supervised while others stacked notes into the cash machines, other times he would help securing cash into the safe or taking it out of the safe for the tills. Sometimes, he had to count out coins, too, which he didn't much care for, but he supposed someone had to do it. Some bigger branches had a machine that did it for them, but not where he worked. Otherwise, it was clerical work. Filing, making the coffee, getting the manager's sandwich for his lunch – that sort of thing. He did have his own desk, with a computer terminal and screen and everything, although he didn't have complete access to the system; not all the passwords. Which was just as well, really, as he wasn't very good at computing. But the job suited him well. No great pressure, no great hassle, and some nice people around – every now and then, he had a beer with a few of them on the way home. It had become a nice, cosy little rut, with enough of an income to pay for his meagre lodgings and general upkeep.\n\nSo he was a bit unhappy when his section head called him over one day, and told him that they were going to have to make some changes around the place.\n\n\"We have to make a few economies,\" he was told, \"and it's just a bit difficult to justify any longer all the work you do here. We thought we could perhaps share it out among some of the others.\"\n\n\"So how would that save money?\" asked Roger.\n\n\"Well,\" explained his supervisor, \"we would then be in a position to let you go, to another branch perhaps, where they had greater need of your services and experience.\"\n\n\"But I don't want to move. I like it here, and I've always worked here.\"\n\n\"Don't think we hadn't all noticed, and don't think we don't all appreciate everything you've done, but, to be quite honest, you seem to have got into a sort of a rut. And that's not good for you in the long term,\" said the man.\n\n\"But I don't mind my rut. I quite like being in a rut. You know where you are, in a rut.\"\n\n\"But the more you stay in a rut, the deeper the rut gets, and eventually it falls in on you and becomes your grave. We're keen to help you avoid that,\" said the supervisor, who was now struggling a bit. Getting rid of Roger Barclay wasn't proving to be as easy as they thought it would be.\n\n\"So you would like me to move, would you?\" asked Roger.\n\n\"Yes, please,\" said his supervisor with a sigh. The message at last seemed to be getting across.\n\n\"Where to?\"\n\n\"Well, as it happens and as luck would have it, there's a post which is just up your street at our Branch in Sloane Square. Same pay, and everything, and a very posh part of London.\"\n\n\"But how would I get there, from here?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid I haven't looked at the map and worked out the buses and trains,\" said the supervisor, now getting a bit irritated. \"But we'd pay your immediate expenses, if that helps. Removal costs and so on.\"\n\n\"What happens if I decide I don't want to move?\"\n\n\"In that case,\" replied the supervisor, \"if you should decide to reject our offer, then we shall have to let you go.\"\n\n\"Let me go?\"\n\n\"Free you from the shackles of this awful bank, so that you can find something better.\"\n\n\"I'm really quite happy here, you know.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you are, and I'm sorry it's come to this, but times change, and we have to move with the times. But you don't have to decide now. Tomorrow will do.\"\n\nRoger Barclay was not a happy man when he left work that afternoon. He didn't want to start looking for a new job, but Sloane Square was miles away. And he didn't know anyone there. He was quite sure his luck had at last run out, when the phone rang. That, in itself, was an unusual event. Doubly unusual, as it turned out.\n\nIt was his brother.\n\n***\n\nProfessor Jack Barclay was working at a frenzied pace. He and his small team seemed to be on the verge of a breakthrough, and yet they simply could not quite jump the final hurdle in their efforts to develop the laser containment of plasma for nuclear fusion. Barclay was becoming increasingly concerned about their sudden lack of progress, particularly as no amount of retracing their steps would reveal any flaw in their earlier work that could explain why progress had suddenly stalled. They obviously had much to do, both at Culham and at the new Rutherford laboratory at Harwell. As leader of his group of physicists, he was responsible for directing their work, as well as making an input into, and monitoring, the continuing and equally important research into nuclear fusion that had been taking place at Culham for so long.\n\nIn spite of the fact that requests were carefully vetted and many refused, he still had to contend with a seemingly never-ending stream of fellow scientists, many from overseas, who were keen to visit the facilities and enquire about his research. Even with those visitors who had been formally approved, he still had to take great care in how he briefed them and what he told them, because of the Top Secret nature of his work. As if that was not enough, he also had to prepare a major paper on the general subject of nuclear fusion, to be given at a forthcoming meeting of the Royal Society, the date of which approached with alarming speed.\n\nWhat with one thing and another Barclay was under considerable stress. He had little time to himself, was only able to snatch a bite to eat now and then, and was sleeping badly. Other members of his team, including his Director, were all becoming increasingly concerned about his well-being. Jack himself was conscious of the strain. He was getting headaches, and even noticed that sometimes he had a slight shake. He knew that he needed a break, but simply felt unable to get away from it all, even for a weekend. He now spent so little time at his flat in Battersea, that he was seriously considering selling the place. He had bought it so that he had somewhere to go, to get off the Culham treadmill and away from his digs, and he had initially been able to stay there quite often, visiting art galleries, museums and even taking in the odd concert while in London. It had done him good, but now the flat was standing empty for long periods. He knew nobody in the area who could drop in to make sure things were OK, and that in itself was beginning to add to his worries. He thought he had emptied the fridge and switched it off before he left the last time, but he couldn't really be sure. There was so much else occupying his mind at the time, as there was now. But there was no one to ask. Nobody to pop in to check for him, and to look at any mail there might be.\n\nThere was no doubt about it – it had to go. Whenever he could find the time, he would get on to an agent and put it on the market. He decided that selling it would be the easiest thing. He didn't want the extra worry of letting it, bothering about tenants, repairs and maintenance and all that.\n\nFor some unexplained reason, he was also beginning to worry about how his brother was getting on. He really ought to ring to find out, although he never usually bothered. Perhaps it was just his state of mind. That was it. All the pressures of work were getting him down.\n\nBut he would ring Roger, whenever he could find the time.\n\n***\nCHAPTER FIVE \\- OLD FRIENDS, NEW ENEMIES\n\nAs Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee, Sir Robin Algar briefed the members at their next meeting, which, as usual, was attended by the Heads of the three Intelligence agencies.\n\n\"I was, frankly, disappointed at Jarvis's attitude,\" admitted Algar. \"I had not for a moment expected such a reaction.\"\n\n\"Sounds to me as if it's a good thing he's gone,\" said Sir Wilfred Forsyth. \"I just hope he doesn't prove to be troublesome when he gets back into SIS.\"\n\n\"We could have a problem, you know,\" said Watkins. \"We now have the ex-Head of one of our most secret sections with an enormous chip on his shoulder.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" said Algar. \"We shall need to keep an eye on him and his behaviour.\"\n\n\"Hardly a job for Section 11, though,\" joked Brian Hooper, from the Treasury.\n\n\"I wonder?\" pondered Watkins. \"If he is now a bit – how shall I put this – mentally unstable, I wonder if perhaps we should consider down-grading his security clearance?\"\n\n\"If we did, he would have to be moved from the post we have in mind for him, and that would only make matters worse,\" said Forsyth, from the Foreign Office. \"I think we should leave things as they are for the time being, but I will try to arrange for a specially close watch to be kept on him.\"\n\n\"Is there any way, from his new desk in SIS, that he could interfere with Colonel Clayton and the work of his old section?\" asked Burgess from the Home Office.\n\n\"Most unlikely,\" said Forsyth.\n\n\"But I agree that we should keep a careful eye on the man for the foreseeable future,\" said Algar. \"Now let's move on; what about Professor Barclay? Anything to report?\"\n\n\"We've double-checked the security clearance of all his closest colleagues,\" announced Watkins. \"There are only six of them working with him on this particular line of theoretical research, and they are confirmed as being beyond reproach or suspicion. Like Barclay, they have all been positively vetted and cleared for Atomic Top Secret work, and that has now been confirmed to my satisfaction.\"\n\n\"And what about the threat assessment in relation to the Professor himself?\"\n\n\"I've been asked to summarise the views of colleagues round this table, and to outline the report by the Assessments Staff, a copy of which you all have.\" said Forsyth. \"And as you suspected, Robin, there do seem to be suggestions of a growing threat to Barclay from various quarters. In fact, judging by all the reports we've received from our people around the world, two threats. First of all, there are those who are seeking to persuade him to work for them rather than for us, and this includes the American's Lawrence Livermore University, and the Government in Abu Dhabi, acting on behalf of the United Arab Emirates. Both parties are seeking to tempt the man to go over, with increasingly attractive offers of cash and fringe benefits. It has to be said, of course, that ultimately, it will be for Barclay to decide. In this country, he is quite free to do so. It also has to be said that there is no way we could seek to match or better the offers being made to him, so it will have to be left to his own judgement, subject only to a bit of gentle persuasion from us, reminding him perhaps that he has signed the Official Secrets Act apart from anything else. As we know, this effort to turn Barclay to work for them rather than for the UK is based on two different requirements. In the case of the American University, which incidentally Barclay has visited many times, they believe that his research into the field of nuclear fusion, as a future energy source, is way ahead of their own. In the case of the UAE, it is the Government that is seeking to join the field, so to speak, and to take the lead in the Arab world in planning for the day when their oil resources run out. They simply have to find a way of sustaining their colossal investments when their oil revenues dwindle. So we have, on the one hand, a university and a Government both interested in buying Barclay, although we must also bear in mind that the Lawrence Livermore University is heavily subsidised by the US Government, as we subsidise much of the research carried out in our own universities.\n\n\"The second threat I mentioned is more menacing in a way,\" continued Forsyth. \"It comes from Russia, which is keen to protect its own long-term oil interests by slowing down as much as possible the development of an alternative energy source. Although nuclear fusion is some ten, perhaps twenty, years away from being a viable commercial option, the vast oil and gas reserves of Russia and its allies will last long after that. Of course, they have their own programme of research into the fusion processes, but are far behind the West in the progress they have made so far, according to our sources. Our judgement is that they will seek to maintain their monopoly of energy resources that they will enjoy once supplies from the Middle East have decreased. They have already demonstrated their willingness to use energy supply as a political weapon, most recently when they turned off the gas pipelines to the Ukraine, and we are convinced they will not hesitate to use it again.\"\n\n\"So we have possible threats to Barclay from an academic source and a political one,\" said Burgess.\n\n\"Up to a point that's right,\" confirmed Forsyth, \"but let us not forget that a year or so ago, the President of the United States promised that within ten years America would cease to be dependent on the Middle East for its energy needs.\"\n\n\"That was during the Presidential election campaign, don't forget,\" Hooper reminded them, \"and he didn't say how that was to be achieved.\"\n\n\"They certainly won't get a commercial fusion programme up and running by then, even with Barclay's help,\" said Algar.\n\n\"But I'll bet they are behind the Californian university's attempts to win him over,\" said the Foreign Office man.\n\n\"Possibly so,\" agreed Algar. \"But what about the Russian intentions? How do they propose to 'slow down progress', as I think you said?\"\n\n\"There's no real information on that,\" replied Forsyth, \"which could mean they haven't yet decided what to do for the best. They may join the field and attempt to headhunt Barclay, although they must know that would be virtually impossible to achieve. They could try sabotage in some way, perhaps staging some form of terrorist attack on the facilities at Culham and/or Harwell, but again that may not prove to be much use bearing in mind the huge international effort which is going into this research.\"\n\n\"But not into the work that Barclay and his small team are doing,\" Watkins reminded them.\n\n\"True. On the other hand, they may go directly for Barclay himself, and try to remove him from the scene altogether.\"\n\n\"Kidnapping, you mean?\" asked Hooper.\n\n\"Or even assassination,\" suggested Forsyth. \"They've done it before to get rid of people who were proving to be an embarrassment to them, most recently Alexander Litvinenko on our own doorstep.\"\n\n\"I remember that,\" said Algar. \"A particularly nasty death he suffered – some form of radiation poising, wasn't it?\"\n\n\"That's right. The man suddenly fell ill, and died three weeks later in hospital from acute radiation syndrome, induced by a dose of polonium-210.\"\n\n\"Radiation!\" exclaimed Hooper. \"Nobody would take much notice if a nuclear physicist like Barclay suddenly died of radiation poisoning, would they?\"\n\n\"You surely don't think they were rehearsing on Litvinenko, do you?\" asked Algar. \"Does anyone?\"\n\nForsyth shrugged. \"Who knows how the Russian mind works,\" he said. \"But they may be particularly tempted if they thought Barclay was going to work in Abu Dhabi, or, even worse, if the Americans looked like winning him over.\"\n\n\"Even if they were not. Just to remove the risk of that happening,\" concluded Burgess.\n\n\"Good point,\" said Sir Robin Algar. \"One way or the other, then, it begins to look as if there is a real and present threat to Professor Barclay, which we probably need to address.\"\n\n\"But I must emphasise that we have no real intelligence at the moment about Russian intentions,\" said Forsyth.\n\n\"Let's not wait until we have,\" said Burgess. \"By then it may be too late.\"\n\nThe committee nodded their agreement.\n\n\"A tricky task for Section 11, then,\" said Algar. \"Since he's new to the job, I'll brief Colonel Clayton personally about the background to this operation, as he will report directly to me. I just hope Jarvis gives him a proper and thorough handover briefing, in spite of his own disaffection.\"\n\n\"I think we shall soon know if he doesn't,\" said General Pearson-Jones of Defence Intelligence. \"I've been to Cyprus myself to give Clayton a bit of background to help him make up his mind, and he is very keen on the number two at the Section, who he worked with in Northern Ireland. If Jarvis doesn't brief Clayton fully, then Commander Marsden will.\"\n\n\"What about Professor Barclay?\" asked Hooper. \"Should he be told about our fears for his safety?\"\n\n\"I recommend not at the moment,\" replied Forsyth. \"I would rather see Section 11 operationally involved first.\"\n\n\"Personally, I think Barclay should be told sooner rather than later,\" said Algar. \"It would be easier to keep tabs on Barclay if he did know he was under our protection. For one thing, we need access to his diary, to be able to plan ahead for any visits he may have in mind. If he suddenly decides to go the California again, it would be handy to know in advance so that we can go with him, rather than risk losing him while we try to catch up. But we'll get Section 11 organised first, if you wish.\"\n\n\"Strictly speaking, Barclay should notify his Director of his plans,\" said Burgess. \"I'll get the Chief Scientist to check with the Atomic Energy Authority to see if Barclay copies his weekly diary to anyone there.\"\n\n\"That would be helpful,\" said Algar. He turned to the Heads of the Intelligence Agencies. \"Perhaps you would all keep a close watch on this one, and report to your colleagues on this committee if anything new comes up. Look out for any Russian embassy staff straying anywhere near Culham, or for any other unusual activity that could be connected. When the time comes, I'll have a quiet word with the good Professor myself,\" concluded Algar. \"As Head of the Civil Service, I am ultimately responsible for him after all. I should hate anything to happen to the poor man.\"\n\n***\n\nBill and Catherine Clayton, having spent so long in the military environment, were quite used to moving fast when necessary, even if the move was a permanent one rather than just on operations. But the few days that followed Bill's acceptance of his new role as 'S' in London were hectic even by their standards. The two of them had carefully planned their move and divided responsibility for everything that needed to be done. Catherine took charge of all the domestic arrangements, helped more than usually by the military authorities, while Bill got on with clearing up his job in Cyprus, preparing written briefs and eventually – after only three day's notice – handing over to his successor, Major Julian Evans. Their house in Cyprus was full of packing cases, some of which were to return to the UK by sea, the others by airfreight. A major problem was where to send them. They had no home of their own – they only married a short time before going to Cyprus – but they had been allocated a small flat in London, which went with Bill's new job. Catherine paid a flying visit to it. Fortunately it was partly furnished, but only with the barest minimum of essentials. They could live in it as it was if they had to, but it would hardly be 'home'. So, much of their stuff would need to be put into store, and packed accordingly.\n\nOn present plans, they would have three days in the London flat before Bill formally took charge of Section 11. They had briefly discussed where they might look for a home of their own, and had thought Sussex might be nice, as Bill was born and bred there and knew the county well. Certainly, Catherine had been impressed when they had visited part of it while investigating Uncle Edward's murder. Anywhere would do, so long as she and Bill were together.\n\nBy the time they got their flight to RAF Brize Norton, they were nearing exhaustion, and knew that there would be no time yet to rest and relax. Catherine had to set up a new home in the London flat, while Bill had to take on a new job – perhaps the most challenging of his career.\n\nThey were surprised not to be met at Brize Norton by Alan Jarvis, from whom Bill was taking over, but delighted to see Nick Marsden, who greeted them, airside rather than in the arrivals hall, like the long-lost friends they were.\n\n\"Sorry about Jarvis,\" said Marsden. \"You seem to have put his nose out of joint a bit.\"\n\n\"I've never met the man,\" protested Bill.\n\n\"Perhaps not, but you've pinched his job, and he's a bit sore about that.\"\n\n\"Tough,\" said Bill, \"but hardly my fault.\"\n\n\"Time he went anyway, if you ask me,\" proffered Nick.\n\n\"I shall be asking you a lot, I think.\"\n\n\"Only too delighted to help, old chum. Now – anywhere else, and I would offer you a cup of tea each while we wait for your luggage, but frankly RAF tea isn't worth drinking. If ever you stay in the Mess, they bring you a cup as a wake-up call in the morning. It's not for drinking, though. Shove your finger in it, and when it's cold, it's time to get up!\"\n\nThey all laughed, and for the first time in days, Bill and Catherine felt relaxed. Maybe this was going to be like old times in Northern Ireland, after all.\n\nEventually, they all piled into a Landrover, and set off for London.\n\n\"This belongs to the firm, by the way,\" announced Nick. \"We have quite a collection of old bangers, as you'll discover, and as I tend to look after the operations side of things, I felt free to borrow it.\"\n\n\"What do I look after, then?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Oh, fascinating stuff like politics and paper work, although knowing you, you're bound to get involved in ops. as well. Jarvis never did much, and when he did, things never quite went well, as you'll discover. So I shan't mind sharing with you!\"\n\n\"So what's the plan now?\"\n\n\"I'll drop you off at your flat and help you settle in as best I can. I've got basic supplies in, like gin and suchlike, and there's a corner shop nearby if you need anything special like food. I'm sure you found it, Catherine, on your quick visit. Then you are on your own unless I'm summoned, until Monday morning. I'll pick you up around 0800 and take you to HQ, where the lovely Jarvis should be waiting to start the hand-over. I have to warn you that it probably won't amount to much, as he has a monumental chip on his shoulder, but he's bound to hand you over to me as soon as he can, for me to fill in the details, so you'll be all right. I'll arrange for you to meet people, and to be briefed on all the current operations. By the way, you're known as 'S', much the same as the D.G. of MI6 in known as 'C' for some reason.\"\n\n\"That all sounds good,\" said Clayton. \"You'll have time to stop over for a gin, I hope, before you disappear this evening.\"\n\n\"Delighted to, I'm sure, but I don't want to get in your way while you try to settle in.\"\n\n\"Where do you live, as a matter of interest?\" asked Catherine.\n\n\"I rent a couple of rooms near the office during the week, but I have a small house in the country near Portsmouth, where I still have a few Navy chums. You must come down and stay one weekend.\"\n\n\"Still not married then?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Lost interest, once you pinched Catherine!\" he joked.\n\n***\n\nOn Monday morning, Nick collected Bill Clayton early, and drove him to Clerkenwell. Bill found it hard to believe that he was being taken to his new 'command' as they headed for the less-than-smart terrace of offices above a shopping precinct. He had been told, by both Sir Robin and by PJ, that Section 11 liked to keep a low profile, but this was ridiculous. It became more so as Nick Marsden led him through a newsagents and into the hairdressing salon run by Mr. Lawrence at the back of the shop. But suddenly, things changed. Nick had to negotiate an elaborate procedure to pass through the gated security system before even gaining access to the stairs, at the top of which there were even more security checks to allow them through the door marked 'Ajax Recruitment'. Bill noticed that there was a piece of paper pinned to the door saying 'No Vacancies'.\n\n\"You'll get your own passes and so on later this morning,\" promised Nick. \"Always providing, of course, that you fill in all the forms to the satisfaction of Gladys.\"\n\n\"Who the hell is she?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Admin,\" replied Nick. \"Nothing gets done unless Gladys says it can be done, and you've got the right piece of paper from her. She's a wonderful old love, who keeps us all on our toes - you'll see.\"\n\nThey eventually arrived at a door simply marked 'S'. Nick banged on it and went in. He solemnly introduced Bill to Alan Jarvis.\n\nIt was immediately obvious that Jarvis was hostile.\n\n\"I wish I could offer you a whole-hearted welcome,\" he said, without bothering to shake Bill's proffered hand, \"but since you're doing me out of my job here and I've been told to get out in a hurry, you'll understand if I keep the formalities of the handover to a minimum.\"\n\n\"I'd probably feel the same,\" replied Bill, \"although I was equally reluctant to leave my job in Cyprus at short notice to take over from you.\" He looked around him. \"I had a half decent office there, and it was mostly hot and sunny, unlike this.\" He waved his hand towards the window, and the driving rain. \"So I don't particularly want to be here either, any more than you want me to be here.\"\n\n\" _One all!\"_ thought Nick.\n\n\"I've prepared a written brief for you,\" said Jarvis, ignoring Bill's protest, \"and Nick will show you round and introduce you to people. I gather you already know one another, so that's handy.\"\n\n\"We've worked together before,\" agreed Clayton.\n\n\"You military people always stick together,\" commented Jarvis, bitterly.\n\n\" _Like shit to a blanket,\"_ muttered Nick.\n\n\"If you have any questions about my brief, I suggest we deal with them tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish clearing my desk.\"\n\n\"Incidentally,\" said Marsden to Jarvis, \"don't bother trying to log on to the computer. Someone came round at the weekend and removed your hard drive.\"\n\nThe two beat a hasty retreat as Jarvis slumped into his seat, swearing.\n\nAs he shut the door behind him, Marsden said, \"I had a feeling it was going to be like this. Doesn't make it at all easy for you, I know, and I'm sorry, but at least I can help you into your new seat.\"\n\n\"Whatever made the man so bitter?\" Bill felt quite dejected, and wondered what he'd let himself in for.\n\n\"He was effectively fired by the Cabinet Secretary, no less, and told he was losing his grip, as I understand it. Which he was, up to a point, but you never like to be told these things. He came back from being summoned like a bear with a sore head, and hasn't been the same since.\"\n\nMarsden opened the door of the office next but one to the one marked 'S'. \"This is where I live,\" he announced. \"Come on in.\"\n\n\"What effect has Jarvis being fired had on the team?\"\n\n\"He hasn't made many friends around here, to be honest, and most people are glad to see the back of him. Your reputation came before you, too, so there's an air almost of excitement at getting a chap in charge who knows what he's doing.\"\n\n\"That's something I suppose. Let's hope I don't let them down.\"\n\n\"You won't. They're a good bunch here really, and there's a nice relaxed atmosphere about the place – normally, that is. And a blessed sense of humour blossoms forth now and then, too, which helps relieve the tension of the job. But there are lots of ex-military here, so a sense of humour won't surprise you.\"\n\nMarsden unlocked his safe, and took out an envelope.\n\n\"This is your written brief,\" he said. \"I've been through it, and it's OK, if a little short on detail. But I can fill in the gaps. I suggest we meet people this morning, so they know what you look like at least, and I can brief you on current operations later. We have a small Ops. Room down the corridor. Guys running an op. will move in there, so that they're all together and don't start tripping over one another.\"\n\n\"Sounds good. I'm looking forward to meeting the team. I'm looking forward to seeing my office, too! I've hardly set foot in it, yet.\"\n\n\"It's bigger and better than this, but not much of a view from anywhere in this building. Still, we are in Clerkenwell and not Mayfair!\"\n\nThere was a knock on the door, and a petite, fair-haired girl looked in.\n\n\"Oh, there you are,\" she said. \"I thought you might both be in with Mr. Jarvis!\"\n\n\"Got kicked out,\" said Marsden. \"Bill, let me introduce you to Barbara, your P.A. and the most important person in your life here – apart from me, of course.\"\n\nThey shook hands, and the girl smiled warmly.\n\n\"What a welcome!\" she said. \"Sorry I wasn't here to greet you myself, but I got sent out on an errand. I have a little office between this one and yours. Let me know when you're ready for a chat.\"\n\n\"Or a coffee,\" said Marsden. \"Barbara makes very good coffee.\"\n\n\"I suppose that's a hint,\" she said. \"I've got the machine on already, so it won't be long. I'll bring it in.\"\n\n\"That girl,\" said Commander Marsden seriously, \"may only have 'PA to S' on her door, but as you will soon find, she is quite an important lady. She doesn't just run your office, she actually does things on her own initiative if she thinks it will save you or me a bit of time. She fixes meetings, makes sure the notes are properly encrypted and makes it her business to keep up to speed with everything that's going on. Probably including a few things we don't know about, because we don't need to know for the time being.\"\n\n\"Does she work for you, too?\"\n\n\"Only informally and as long as you don't object. But you and I have to work closely together, so it makes sense. You come first, though.\"\n\n\"I know about her background,\" said Bill.\n\n\"Do you, now?\" said Nick in astonishment. \"Doesn't take you long, does it?\"\n\n\"It was important for me to know about the people I might be working with before I decided to take this on,\" said Bill. \"So I did a bit of homework.\"\n\n\"Like everyone else in S.11, she was specially selected, and has a very high security clearance,\" said Nick.\n\nBarbara reappeared with steaming mugs of coffee.\n\n\"I hope you don't mind a mug,\" she said. \"I've got posh cups for visitors.\"\n\nSomehow, the girl reminded him of Catherine, when they had first met in the office in Northern Ireland.\n\n\"Bring yours in, if you're having one,\" invited Bill. \"The three of us can chat, then. You're part of my handover, after all.\"\n\n\"I can if you like,\" she replied. \"Mr Jarvis has gone.\"\n\n\"Gone!\" exclaimed Nick.\n\n\"So far as I can see, he's cleared his desk, and left the safe door open, so the office is yours when you want it, Colonel.\"\n\n\"I'd rather meet people first,\" replied Bill. \"And please only call me Colonel on the most formal of occasions; otherwise, Bill is fine, for you and everyone else here.\"\n\n\"I'll pass the word. Mr Jarvis said he'd drop in tomorrow sometime, to see if you had any problems.\"\n\n\"Sounds to me as if you're in charge then, Bill,\" said Marsden. \"That didn't take long! Congratulations!\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER SIX \\- MOVING TIMES\n\nIn spite of everything else that was going on, Professor Jack Barclay had suddenly become concerned about his twin brother, Roger. He had no idea why. In the past, he had rarely given the man a passing thought, they had become so distant, but now he felt unusually uneasy about the fellow. Professor Barclay didn't often ring his brother. Come to that, his brother didn't often ring him, either, but they had resolved to keep in closer touch than they used, so Jack decided to ring Roger. He had a feeling that he should, the way identical twins do, sometimes, appear to have a sixth sense. And in any case, he wanted to tell Roger about his own future, which had recently become even more hectic than usual, and showed little sign of becoming any easier. He felt he needed to talk to someone, perhaps to relieve the unbearable stress he was suffering.\n\nThey contacted one another so rarely that he even had to look up his brother's phone number.\n\nAlthough Jack knew that Roger should be home from work by now, his brother took some time to answer the phone.\n\n\"Roger? Hello, it's Jack.\"\n\n\"Good heavens, fancy hearing from you after all this time.\"\n\n\"I know it's been a long time, but I've been simply rushed off my feet lately. Sorry about that.\"\n\n\"I've tried to get you a couple of times in the past month or so, but never seem to get an answer. In fact, I began to wonder if you'd changed your phone number, or moved or something.\"\n\n\"No. Still in the same old digs, although I spend little time there now, I'm so busy. I seem to be working all hours and travelling a lot. In fact, I feel quite exhausted. But how are you?\"\n\n\"Well, since you ask, not really very good at the moment.\"\n\n\"Why? What's wrong?\"\n\n\"I'm OK really I suppose, physically. I'm not under the doctor or anything. It's work, that's all.\"\n\n\"Don't tell me about work! I've got more than I can shake a stick at, at the moment. So what's the problem with your job? I thought you were quite happy at the bank.\"\n\n\"That's the problem. I am – or was. They want me to move.\"\n\n\"After all this time?\"\n\n\"After all this time. It seems they have to make some savings, so my job is being merged with someone else's.\"\n\n\"That's bad news. What happens to you after this merger?\"\n\n\"They said I would be 'let go', which is a nice way of saying I would be sacked. Or they offered me a job in another branch, doing much the same thing.\"\n\n\"What's wrong with that then? Take it.\"\n\n\"What's wrong, is that I don't want to move, that's what. You know me – a proper stick-in-the-mud. I'm quite happy with where I am, doing what I'm doing, and I don't want to move. I simply hate change. It would mean meeting new people, which I don't like, getting used to a new routine and all that.\"\n\n\"I know you may not like it, but you really should take the new job. It would save you all the trouble of looking for one, if there's one on offer.\"\n\n\"I know you're right, and I suppose it would be the sensible thing to do. But I would have to move home as well, as if taking on a new job isn't bad enough. I couldn't commute from here to the new place.\"\n\n\"Where is the new place?\"\n\n\"At their Sloane Square branch, in London. I don't like London much, and I'd never be able to afford to live there. The more I think about it, the more I think I shall have to tell them to 'let me go', as they put it.\"\n\n\"Well, this is extraordinary,\" Roger. \"You'll not believe this, but I had a feeling I should ring you for some reason, but really had no idea why. Now I know.\"\n\n\"Why's that then?\"\n\n\"Because I can help, that's why. If you'll let me.\"\n\n\"You're not going to offer me a job, are you, because you know I don't understand the first thing about science or whatever it is you do all day?\"\n\n\"No, no. I can't offer you a job. But I can offer you accommodation so that you can take the job the bank has offered you. I've been thinking of selling my flat in London because I never use it now, so you can have that.\"\n\n\"I could never afford to buy anything in London. I'm only a bank clerk, after all.\"\n\n\"But I'm not suggesting you buy it. If I don't sell it after all, you can live there.\"\n\n\"I'd never afford the rent on my wages.\"\n\n\"Now listen to me,\" scolded Jack. \"My flat is in Battersea, almost walking distance from Sloane Square. And if you don't fancy the walk, I'm sure there's a bus of some sort – No.319 I think. You can have the flat rent free, too, if that helps.\"\n\n\"I really don't want charity of any sort, even from you, although it's very kind of you to offer. But I simply couldn't afford to live there, however ideal it may sound,\" replied Roger.\n\n\"You manage to rent a place at the moment, don't you?\" enquired Jack. \"Where you are now?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then if you'll feel better about it, just pay me what you pay now if you want to pay something. The bills will be about the same, and I'll pay the maintenance charge, as the flat will still be mine. How about it?\"\n\n\"I hardly know what to say.\"\n\n\"Think about it, then. How long have you got, before you need to decide about the job?\"\n\n\"A month, all but a day or so. They only told me a couple of days ago.\"\n\n\"Well, there you are then,\" said Jack. \"I'll put a key in the post to you, and you can go and look at the place before you decide. Just let me know. But if you want my advice, I'd take the job the bank has offered you, as it's much the same as you're doing now, and live in my flat. I'll clear all my stuff out, such as it is, although there's not much there, as I've hardly used the place since I bought it. It's only small, but should be just right for you. And Sloane Square is a very posh part of London – you could almost regard the job as promotion.\"\n\n\"I hardly know what to say,\" said Roger again. \"Except 'thank you'. I'll have a look at the flat when I get the key, and let you know. Thank you.\"\n\n\"No problem at all,\" replied the Professor. \"I had a funny feeling I should get in touch with you.\"\n\n\"So did I,\" replied Roger. \"Funny, that.\"\n\n***\n\nBill Clayton had been in his new job as 'S' for almost three weeks, when he was summoned to a meeting with the Cabinet Secretary, his boss.\n\nBarbara had taken the call, and fixed the time and day with Robin Algar's P.A., Isabelle Paton. She established that Bill would not need any special briefing for the meeting.\n\n\"I've no idea what it's about,\" she told Bill, \"and I got the impression from my opposite number in the Cabinet Office that Isabelle didn't have much idea either.\"\n\n\"I know Sir Robin quite well, so perhaps it's just a social chat.\"\n\n\"Probably just wants to know how you're getting on.\"\n\nAs it happened, Bill was getting on quite well. Everyone he had met had been very friendly and helpful – with the exception of his predecessor - and for their part, all the people in Section 11 seemed very pleased to have Bill as their new commander. It was only a very small organisation, at least so far as the Headquarters was concerned, so it hadn't taken Bill long to get to know them all, and to get up to speed with everything that was going on. Working with Nick Marsden again was a real joy, and they had already been able to make a few changes to the way things had been done previously, thanks largely to Bill's extensive network of what he called, 'useful contacts'.\n\nBill's P.A., Barbara, was proving to be the gem that Nick said she was. On their first morning together, he had told her that, so far as he was concerned, how she ran her part of the organisation was entirely up to her.\n\n\"Just make sure my diary is kept up to date, that I have the right papers for the right meeting, and that you get me to the right place at the right time, and we'll get on like a house on fire,\" he had said. \"And don't hesitate to tell me if you think things are going wrong, or could be done better.\"\n\n\"Leave that to me, then,\" she had replied. \"I keep my ear close to the ground here and around the place generally, so I usually know what's going on. I'll tell you if there's anything you need to know.\"\n\n\"And do help Commander Marsden as best you can,\" he asked. \"I know I have first call on your time, but Nick and I work so closely together that it makes sense to have you helping us both.\"\n\n\"I'll certainly do that,\" she replied. \"I know that one of you is always on duty or on call, and I really don't mind staying late or coming in early if it helps.\"\n\n\"Good of you, but you have your own life to lead.\"\n\nBill paused.\n\n\"How is Donald, by the way?\"\n\nBarbara sat silent for a moment.\n\n\"You know about Donald?\" she almost whispered.\n\n\"Yes, I do. It's not that I've been prying, but I'm paid to know what's going on, that's all.\"\n\nBarbara was silent again, collecting her thoughts.\n\n\"Nobody else here knows about Donald,\" she said quietly.\n\n\"I shan't say a word, I promise.\"\n\n\"I love my little boy dearly,\" she said, almost tearfully. \"My Mother, bless her, looks after him wonderfully well, and he adores her, but whatever time of the day or night I get home, Donald and I always have a little cuddle and a chat. He insists on it, even if it's the early hours of the morning. He gets very cross if he discovers I haven't woken him for a hug.\"\n\n\"He's four now, isn't he?\"\n\n\"You know everything.\"\n\n\"It's my job,\" replied Bill. \"Just make sure my job doesn't get in the way of your relationship with your son, that's all.\"\n\nBarbara nodded. \"Thank you for that.\"\n\n\"It's probably already occurred to you,\" said Bill, \"that Donald puts you into a very vulnerable position. You're in a top secret post, working for a top secret organisation. If anyone really wanted to know anything about us or what we are doing, it might be only too easy to blackmail you, through Donald.\"\n\n\"By kidnapping him, you mean?\"\n\n\"Something like that,\" replied Bill.\n\nThe girl nodded. \"That's why nobody here knows about him. I keep him very much to myself.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said Bill. \"If ever we get involved in anything which I judge could put you at risk, I shall make sure the Section keeps an eye on Donald, the way it would on anyone else we are asked to protect.\"\n\nBarbara got up, crossed behind the desk, kissed Bill lightly on the forehead, and left.\n\nBill had always liked children, although he had never had any of his own. He even used to mend toys, for an orphanage, when he was in Northern Ireland. When he got home that evening, he told Catherine.\n\n***\n\nAlthough there was no agenda for his meeting in the Cabinet Office, Barbara nevertheless presented him with a folder containing a brief up-date on all their present operations, a note about the Section's financial situation, and summaries of the two most recent papers from SIS about the current terrorist threat.\n\n\"Just in case,\" she said.\n\nAt the last minute, Isabelle rang to ask if Commander Marsden was possibly free to accompany 'S'.\n\nHe was, so did.\n\n\"Sounds to me,\" said Nick, \"as if we are to be briefed about a new piece of action coming our way. Could be important, too, with both of us going.\"\n\n\"Makes sense anyway, since you're in charge of Ops.,\" said Bill.\n\n\"The man probably doesn't trust you to get it right when you pass it on, as you're new!\" joked Nick.\n\nSince they had no staff car, they decided to share one of the BMW motorbikes from the garage under their offices. They arrived in Whitehall, looking like a couple of couriers, and chained the bike to railings, in spite of two duty policemen, who ran towards them. They backed off, and promised to keep a close eye on it, when they saw their I.D. cards. Once inside, Isabelle ushered them into the Cabinet Secretary's office, and immediately brought in a tray of tea.\n\n\"Good to see you both again,\" Robin Algar greeted them, shaking hands. \"There's no agenda, but I see Barbara has nevertheless provided you with a brief. I knew she would – she once worked here you know. Excellent girl!\"\n\nBill agreed. \"She looks after both of us very well.\"\n\n\"I really wanted to know how you were getting on, Bill, since I moved you in such a rush, but I have a new task to tell you about later, which is why I asked Nick to come along as well. So how are things?\"\n\n\"Going well, thanks,\" replied Bill. \"I'm sure I shall like my time there once I've settled in properly.\"\n\n\"He's being modest,\" chipped in Nick. \"He settled in remarkably quickly, and is getting on well with everyone already.\"\n\n\"I'm keen to know about your handover,\" said Algar. \"How was that?\"\n\n\"I must admit I've had better,\" replied Clayton, \"although the written brief was adequate enough I suppose.\"\n\n\"But.....?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you 'but', Sir Robin,\" said Nick, chipping in. \"Friend Jarvis more or less kicked Bill out of his office in five minutes, and left me to do all the briefing. Jarvis himself disappeared about an hour after Bill arrived in the place.\"\n\n\"Good grief.\"\n\n\"I would have been a bit lost without Nick, I must admit, in spite of my useful chat with P.J. before I left Cyprus,\" said Clayton. \"It was good job Nick and I knew one another, although even that seemed to rankle with Jarvis.\"\n\n\"I was rather afraid something like that would happen,\" said the Cabinet Secretary. \"My interview with your predecessor, when I told him he was being moved, was most unpleasant.\"\n\n\"He has a chip on his shoulder the size of Everest,\" said Marsden.\n\n\"It's a pity he took it so badly,\" said Algar. \"He did a good job at first, but seemed to be loosing his touch towards the end, which is why we looked for him to be replaced.\"\n\n\"Couldn't have picked a better chap, in my view,\" volunteered Marsden. \"Bill has been warmly welcomed by everyone in the Section, and is like a breath of fresh air about the place.\"\n\n\"If I may say so,\" said Clayton, \"Alan Jarvis's attitude worries me a bit. It could be dangerous for the ex-Head of a top secret organisation to be wandering about with a grudge, even within SIS.\"\n\n\"My thought precisely,\" agree Algar. \"I've asked them to keep a close watch on the man. Any problems with your current operations?\"\n\n\"None that I know of,\" replied Clayton. \"As you know, we have a few small, low key jobs going on, but our team in Africa which did the Zimbabwe job is back, we have a small team on the animal rights threat to the drugs company man, and a slightly bigger team in Moscow keeping an eye on the BP man. Any developments on that front from your point of view?\"\n\n\"The Foreign Office hasn't reported any change. The Russians still want to control the joint company, and are making life difficult for our top man there. It would never surprise me if they don't just cancel his visa and kick him out.\"\n\n\"I hope that's all,\" said Marsden. \"Our chaps have reported that the Russian's are quite openly following him around, but he doesn't know we're there.\"\n\n\"Of course, we're also looking after two Russian dissidents, as you know,\" added Clayton. \"One's actually come over, and is running scared, while the other is still dithering about whether to turn or not. He's also running scared of his KGB comrades, so we're having to keep close tabs on them both, and the opposition.\"\n\n\"We definitely need the other KGB man to come over,\" said Algar, \"but he certainly won't if anything happens to his colleague.\"\n\n\"So far as we can tell, the people in Moscow don't know we've got a double on our books, or that we may soon have another.\"\n\nClayton shook his head. \"Jarvis knows,\" he said quietly. \"That man worries me.\"\n\n\"There's another case I want you to take on,\" said Algar, \"which also has a Russian element, but this is even more complex. That's why I called you in.\"\n\nHe briefed them quickly on the background to the perceived threats facing Professor Jack Barclay, and handed them a written brief about the work Barclay was doing.\n\n\"I need you to keep a close watch on the man,\" Algar concluded.\n\n\"Does he know?\" asked Clayton.\n\n\"The American and Arab offers have been made quite openly, so he obviously knows of their interest, but he knows nothing about the Russian's apparent intention to disrupt his work. Neither does he know that I am asking you to act as guardian angels.\"\n\n\"We shall need to consider whether perhaps he should be told,\" said Nick Marsden. \"It might be easier with his active co-operation.\"\n\n\"One of your problems is that Barclay moves around a great deal, and works very long hours. Not just at Culham, but also at the new laboratory at Harwell. On top of that, he frequently attends learned seminars, sometimes as a participant, delivering papers and so on, occasionally abroad. We do, though, have access to his weekly diary, and I have arranged for this to be emailed directly to you, starting next week. Here's a copy of this week's.\"\n\nThe two men from Section 11 peered at the document.\n\n\"I begin to wonder,\" said Clayton, \"if we may not need additional full time resources for this one.\"\n\n\"My thoughts precisely,\" agreed Marsden. \"This looks complicated to me, and it could prove most difficult to keep up with the man.\"\n\n\"Call up some of your reserve staff, then, and let me know how many you decide on, so that I can authorise the necessary expenditure.\"\n\n\"We've got six just finishing refresher training – they should be enough reinforcements, to start with at least.\"\n\n\"I still think it would be helpful to tell the man that we are on the case,\" said 'S'.\n\n\"You could be right,\" said the Cabinet Secretary, \"but according to his Director, the professor is already showing signs of considerable stress because his research is not going as well as it was, and I would not want to add to his worries if we can avoid it.\"\n\n\"We'll manage without him knowing for the time being then, but I'll come back to you if I think it would help for him to be told.\"\n\n\"What about photos and that sort of thing?\" asked Marsden.\n\n\"Before you leave, I'll give you a package containing still photos and video footage of the man, recordings of his voice, and brief biological and biographical details. MI5 managed to gain entry to his digs near Culham, and has taken film of the inside so you can see something of his lifestyle when he's at home – which isn't often these days. It will also give you a clue as to how he normally dresses and so on. I leave it to you how you use this material to brief your team, but, as usual, keep copies to the minimum.\"\n\n\"I'd like to see his personal file, with his security clearance, if that can be arranged, and the files relating to his immediate team,\" said Clayton.\n\nAlgar nodded.\n\n\"And for good measure,\" said Marsden, \"I'd like to see the same relating to Alan Jarvis; especially his security clearance. When was that last checked, do you know?\"\n\n\"Good thinking, Nick. I'll find out, and if it's old, I'll run the rule over him again,\" promised the Cabinet Secretary.\n\n\"Can you also make sure that we're kept briefed about Russian activity, especially any within a few miles of Barclay, wherever he is?\"\n\n\"I've already laid that on.\"\n\n\"If the American's are interested in the Professor, I guess the CIA will be close by as well,\" said Clayton.\n\n\"We both know a few people there, but I'll check that out, if you like,\" said Marsden.\n\n\"Thanks Nick.\"\n\n\"Thank you both for coming,\" concluded Sir Robin. \"This is quite an important task for you, so give it your best shot, as I'm sure you will. Barclay is quite free to choose to go to America or Abu Dhabi or anywhere else for that matter if that's what he wants, although we all hope he doesn't. His work is too important to this country. Your job is to make sure he isn't forced into doing anything against his will.\"\n\nAs they left Algar's office, Nick looked at his watch.\n\n\"I had rather hoped the old man might have offered us lunch,\" he said, \"but not even so much as a sandwich, never mind roast beef at his club.\"\n\n\"Looks like the Red Lion, then, across the road. We'll pick up the package after we've had a little something or other. The bike can stay chained to the railings.\"\n\nThey nodded to the policemen as the crossed Whitehall.\n\n\"Shan't be long,\" said Nick, cheerily.\n\nIt wasn't until they got back to Clerkenwell that they were able to study the dossier they had been given.\n\nNick started getting together his team, and prepared to brief them. Other members of the Section 11 headquarters team were looking after the logistics, like preparing vehicles, getting train tickets from the travel agent's across the road, arranging accommodation, copying photographs and so on. Gladys was having a field day, preparing forms for them all to complete and sign, while 'Bottom', the retired Petty Officer who ran the armoury, prepared suitable weapons for them. The planning of the operation went like clockwork, as it had been done so many times before, although it was Bill Clayton's first. Nick bustled about making sure everything happened as it should, and eventually appointed one his most senior staff to run the operation. An ex-member of Special Branch, Clive Newell was under the strictest instructions to keep Bill informed of any significant development, in view of the personal interest being taken at the highest levels in Whitehall.\n\n\"There are two things I don't like about this little operation,\" said Clayton to Marsden. \"One is the Russian connection and the other is the fact that our target, Barclay, is apparently already under stress. The last thing we want is for him to have a nervous breakdown.\"\n\n\"We could perhaps do with some medical advice,\" suggested Nick. \"Know anybody?\"\n\n\"As it happens, I do,\" replied 'S'. \"A retired RAF Air Commodore who used to head up the Institute of Aviation Medicine.\"\n\n\"Could be a useful addition to the Section 11 team, anyway. I've often thought that a bit of psychological profiling of some of our customers could be useful.\"\n\n\"Doc. Perkins has done some of that,\" said Clayton. \"He could also cast his eye over friend Jarvis,\" he suggested. \"I'm not too happy about him, either. But it would mean adding yet another member to the Section 11 team, which nobody is supposed to know about, even if only part-time.\"\n\n\"Should be secure enough, coming from that background.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I'll give him a bell and see if he's doing anything special at the moment,\" said Clayton. \"Then I can have a word with Algar.\"\n\nClive Newell knocked, and stuck his head round the door. \"I'm going to brief my guys in five minutes,\" he announced. \"Department heads are there; do either of you want to sit in?\"\n\nThey all made their way to the briefing room, where the assembled team was shown photos and videos of their 'target' and told about Barclay's work and it's national importance. Newell emphasised that, since he was already under considerable stress, Barclay knew nothing about the fact that he was to be watched over by S. 11, which made it imperative that the teams of watchers stayed well in the background, as they had been trained. It was a thorough and detailed briefing, at the end of which Newell's squad organised themselves into pairs who would work together throughout the operation.\n\nFinally, Newell turned to Clayton. \"Anything you want to add, boss?\"\n\n\"Two things,\" replied 'S'. \"First, I have arranged for GCHQ to mount a key-word intercept operation on Barclay's phones, in his laboratory, at home and on his mobile, so we should get an early warning of any new attempt to coerce him away from his work at Culham. You will be briefed if anything turns up. Secondly, I am also arranging for some medical expertise to monitor the professor's behaviour, bearing in mind the considerable stress he's working under at the moment. Not only is he being headhunted by two separate countries to work for them, but also his own research has unexpectedly hit the buffers, although probably only temporarily. But he is getting increasingly frustrated, what with one thing and another, so I want you all to look for any signs of this surfacing. If he knew about the Russian interest, which is menacing, and our own involvement, that could well drive him to breaking point, so we need to tread carefully. Finally, perhaps some of you technical chaps could arrange for suitable tracking devices to be installed – briefcase, car, that sort of thing. They will help us to keep tabs on the man.\"\n\nNewell drew the briefing to a close. \"Usual reporting procedures by encrypted satellite mobiles to the 24 hour desk here, and between yourselves when necessary. No need at this stage for anything more than personal protection weapons – draw those from the armoury, but don't forget the paperwork from Gladys first. I suggest two teams use a car or van of some sort for static observation, the rest of you on motorbikes. The latest SatNav maps of Culham, Harwell and the Oxford area have been downloaded onto your mobiles. Gladys has drawn up a list of suitable B&B accommodation in the area.\"\n\n\"And don't forget to keep the receipts,\" interrupted Gladys.\n\n\"Barclay also has a flat in Battersea, but seldom uses it,\" continued Newell. \"Some of you may need to travel abroad at short notice, although we should have a few days' warning as we shall have access to Barclay's diary, but make sure you have your passports with you. Any questions?\"\n\nThere were none.\n\n\"Very well, then,\" concluded Newell. \"Remember that this is a high profile operation being monitored closely by very senior people in Whitehall. Keep on your toes, report anything you think is in the least unusual, especially if you should suspect that other people are keeping a watch on the man. Whatever you do, don't lose Barclay.\"\n\n***\n\nAfter the briefing, Nick and Bill went back to 'S's office.\n\n\"Newell seems to have picked a good team, so I hope it all goes well,\" commented Commander Marsden. \"No reason why it shouldn't, of course, but the Russian angle worries me a bit.\"\n\n\"Me too,\" agreed Clayton. \"The Russians are a bit jumpy at present, what with closing our British Council offices, and now starting to fly their bombers through the Iceland/Faroes gap again. We're already running the BP operation in Moscow, too, not to mention our defector friends here.\"\n\n\"You never know when they'll do something really daft,\" said Marsden. \"Their agents are pretty thick on the ground over here, at the moment, so they are difficult to monitor.\"\n\n\"There's something else you should know,\" said 'S'. \"So far, I have deliberately not told Newell and his team in case it makes their job even more complicated. I'm not even sure that Sir Robin Algar knows, either. But Professor Barclay has a twin brother – an identical twin, too.\"\n\n\"I'll be damned,\" exclaimed Nick. \"Not in the same line of business, I hope.\"\n\n\"No, thank goodness. He's a bank clerk, somewhere or other. Apart from looks, he's as different as chalk from cheese from his brother, and they rarely meet. But if he does turn up, then our guys will get thoroughly confused if they're not careful. Which is why getting tracking devices in place is so important.\"\n\nMarsden thought for a moment. \"I think I'll spend the night in the Ops. Room, until our teams are properly organised,\" he said.\n\n\"I'll join you,\" said Clayton.\n\nWhen she learnt that the two men in her life were planning to stay in the office overnight, 'S's P.A., Barbara, decided she would stay late as well to get them settled. She organised a camp bed for each of them in their respective offices, and drew bedding from the store run by 'Aunty'. She knew they would get all the coffee they needed while in the Ops Room, but hurried into the Clerkenwell precinct below their offices to collect a bottle of white wine from the off licence, to have with the fish and chips she bought for their supper. She made sure she kept the receipts for Gladys, but declined to join them. With nothing else she could usefully do until the morning, she went home to Donald.\n\nIt was quiet in the Ops Room. Apart from the Duty Officer, there was only one other Section 11 man actively running his specified operation. He was looking after the potential KGB defector, a tricky and sensitive undertaking that was keeping everybody on their toes. Everything else appeared to be running quite normally, although Clive Newell was there to keep in touch with his recently deployed teams, as Operation Fusion got under way.\n\nIt was nearly midnight when one of the teams reported in.\n\n\"This is Fusion Team 'Bravo',\" said the voice. \"We have identified our target, and are keeping in contact.\"\n\nThat was all, but it was enough to tell 'S' and his two colleagues that the operation was now under way. Newell acknowledged the message, and that was that.\n\nThe three men looked at one another. \"So far so good,\" said Marsden. \"Now the work really starts.\"\n\nBill Clayton nodded. \"I wish I was out there with them,\" he said, wistfully.\n\n\"You're getting too old for that sort of thing!\" replied Marsden.\n\nThere were a couple of other reports during the night. The technical support team reported that a tracking device had been fitted to Barclay's car, parked outside his lodgings. And a member of team 'Echo' had managed to talk his way on to the staff at Culham – 'a sort of cleaning job', he had said – but it meant that they now had a man on the inside, more or less free to roam at will. Gladys said later that if he was being paid for it, she would knock it off his allowances. But it also meant that 'Echo' now needed a replacement. Within an hour, a new man was in the ops room being briefed, before drawing a Browning from the armoury, grabbing a Kawasaki bike from the garage, and heading for the A40 at high speed.\n\n\"I'll have to do the paperwork in the morning,\" sighed Newell.\n\n\"Any of that wine left?\" asked Marsden.\n\n\"I don't think there is. I remember you emptying the bottle!\" replied Clayton. \"But there's a spare in my cupboard. I'll get it.\"\n\n\"Your Barbara thinks of everything.\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER SEVEN \\- THE RUSSIAN INTERVENTION\n\nIt seemed to Professor Jack Barclay that 'good days' were almost a thing of the past, the way work was going at the moment. In fact, he couldn't remember when he had last had a good day, by any definition. He and his small team suddenly appeared to be getting nowhere, and they had concluded that they really needed to go back over some of their earlier work in an effort to find out where they were going wrong. They had decided to have a brain storming session.\n\nIt had started at eight o'clock that morning, and they had really made very little progress by the time Barclay's undergraduate assistant had appeared with sandwiches and hot coffee for lunch. Except that it wasn't lunch. It was getting on for dinner time, but they hadn't noticed. In spite of the time, they decided to work on for a bit longer in an effort to complete their revision in a single working day.\n\nIt probably wasn't the sandwiches, and they couldn't agree whether or not it was the coffee, although that was the more likely, but quite suddenly afterwards, a piece of inspired mathematics by Barclay suggested that they may, after all, be on the verge of their first step forward for some time. And the more they looked at it, the more they studied it, the more they refined it, the more excited they became that this could be the solution they had all been looking for. There was much more to be done, not just to test the theory again and again to ensure that there were no flaws in it, but then to transfer it into the possibly more difficult practical world of the laboratory.\n\nThey were all nearing exhaustion as they parted that night, none more so than Barclay, but he did actually feel that perhaps today hadn't been such a bad day after all. Not a good day, but, if they really had made some progress, perhaps not as bad as most had been recently. Leading his team through this morass of theoretical quantum mechanics for a glimpse of the future was stressful enough, but he had the added pressure being put upon him by those trying to persuade him to work for them instead of Britain's Atomic Energy Authority. Last week, it had been the vastly rich Gulf States, at last officially offering him undreamed of resources to continue his work in an organisation of his own, which they would help him to establish and finance with seemingly unlimited funds. And there was no denying the fact that he could make quicker progress with greater financial backing, even in the UK if only the Government would allocate more money for research projects like his. He knew that his was not the only work to suffer because of public expenditure constraints, but that did not make it any easier to resist the temptation of moving to the Middle East with its untold riches.\n\nAnd then, only yesterday, he had received yet another call from his friend and close associate at the Lawrence Livermore University in California, pleading again for him to work jointly with them in the interests of progressing more speedily for their mutual benefit. He knew it would make sense to do so, and certainly he would find California more congenial than the Arab world. We were, after all, allies who enjoyed a special relationship, so what would be the harm? And yet, he felt it would not be the right thing to do. But he could well do without these additional pressures, especially now. He was so busy, indeed, that he had been almost curt to his long-time friend in America. He would simply have to find time to ring him back. Not tonight though. He was far too tired, and yet at the same time eager to press on after the apparent turning point he and his team had possibly reached today. He was still mulling over in his mind today's events as he left the laboratory, and he was sure he would never sleep tonight.\n\nCertainly, he never noticed the two men in an old VW Beetle who followed him as he left the car park and began his short drive home.\n\nJack Barclay was right about not sleeping, and in the end he gave up trying. He convinced himself that the rest would be enough to refresh him for tomorrow's work. He tried hard, as he lay in the dark, to order the various pressures he was facing, and to prioritise what he should do. He and his team of fellow nuclear physicists were working towards achieving the apparently impossible goal of destroying matter to create energy. It was Einstein who first postulated the theory, with his famous E=MC2 equation. If only it was as simple to achieve as that theory suggested. And yet, it had been done. Not just in his own laboratory at Culham, but in France and America. The great problem was to develop a system that could control and sustain the fusion process so as to offer a new source of usable energy. Short bursts of nuclear fusion were regularly being achieved, but were not enough. Success by him and his team would put Britain firmly at the forefront of the research designed to re-create the power of the sun and the stars, using the same processes. In the sun, it is gravity that fuses hydrogen atoms together to generate helium, and produce pure energy. In his laboratory, Barclay used the power of magnetism to control the hydrogen plasma, while his new venture at the Rutherford laboratory would use the power of laser beams to focus energy onto the hydrogen fuel. And this was where he had been struggling in recent weeks.\n\nHe knew that similar work was taking place in America, where his fellow scientists at the National Ignition Facility were confident of achieving a limited form of controllable nuclear fusion using the same laser technology. But his work was ahead of theirs. Nevertheless, it made their pleas for him to join them very tempting, not least because they enjoyed more generous research funding. Perhaps he should visit the facility again soon, to see how they were progressing, and to swap notes. On the other hand, scientists in France were developing and constructing a new fusion project using magnetic fields, as they were used at Culham, to create the conditions for fusion. Barclay, however, was convinced that future progress rested with the use of ever more powerful lasers. He was leading the development of those powerful energy pulses, and working to determine how many laser arrays would be required to generate sufficient energy within the fusion chamber. He knew that in America, they had estimated that 192 would be sufficient, but Barclay believed that, with a modified fusion chamber design, the same effect could be achieved with fewer lasers. Today his team had, for the first time in weeks, made real progress in solving that particular problem.\n\nJack Barclay really could do without the added pressure coming from the Arab states to help them develop this alternative energy source. He had known for some time that he was likely to be approached, but the formal offer had put things on to a rather different footing. He would certainly need to inform his Director, and although he had no real interest in accepting the offer, he knew that outright and immediate rejection might not be the best thing to do from a diplomatic point of view. With any luck, he would be able to shuffle off responsibility for turning down the proposal onto the politicians for them to handle. He would brief his Director tomorrow, if he could find the time.\n\nTime, though, was in short supply. Apart from the pressures of his own research, both at Culham and now at Harwell, he wanted to visit colleagues at the National Ignition Facility in California again soon, and the Director of the International Thermonuclear Experimental Reactor at Cadarache, in France had invited him to pay yet another visit. He could hardly refuse, since their work on electro-magnetic plasma containment was similar to that being undertaken in his own laboratory at Culham. He also had a long-standing invitation to visit the CERN Large Hadron Collider facility in Switzerland, which was also being used to destroy particles at enormous temperatures and pressures, although not to create fusion but rather to discover the conditions which existed immediately after the big bang. Barclay had been there before, more than once, and very much wanted to accept this invitation, although he was not so sure he wanted to present yet another paper about his work at the same time. He would say 'no' to that, not least because he was already behind in preparing his paper for the Royal Society. But the work at CERN fascinated him, and he often wondered if there could be some direct correlation between his work and that being done in Switzerland.\n\nHe also needed to clear his London flat, having decided he could no longer justify hanging on to it – he simply never had the time these days to get there for even a short break. He was glad he had offered it to his brother, but he, of course, was something else to worry about.\n\nDawn was breaking when Barclay finally gave up any thoughts of a decent sleep, and decided instead to make himself a good breakfast. He was hungry as well as tired. He immediately realised that it was some days since he had done any shopping. There was no breakfast. Instead, he went to the laboratory early, knowing that the canteen would be open before too long.\n\nBreakfast was also on the mind of Op. Fusion Team 'Foxtrot' - the two men on a motorbike who followed him at a discrete distance.\n\n***\n\nFrom his desk in the Cabinet Office, Sir Robin Algar got hold of 'S' on the red phone to ask about the Barclay operation.\n\n\"How are things going?\" he asked.\n\n\"No problems,\" came the reply. \"Except that the man works extraordinary hours, and my chaps are finding it very tiring keeping tabs on him. But we seem to be the only people taking an interest at the moment.\"\n\n\"That could be about to change, which is why I'm ringing. Barclay has made something of a breakthrough in recent days, and has also had a formal bid from the United Arab Emirates in Abu Dhabi, which plenty of people now know about. We are dealing with their request on a diplomatic level, although we haven't yet quite decided how to handle it. But we'll probably get him to pay a visit soon to discuss it, just to play for time. The other thing is that he's going to the States next week, to see the people out there who want him to work for them.\"\n\n\"Lawrence Livermore University, is that?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"I think I'll pre-position a couple of teams out there, so that we're ahead of the man. Let me know about Abu Dhabi, and I'll do the same if there's time.\"\n\n\"Do that.\"\n\n\"I suppose the Russians know about this?\"\n\n\"Bound to by now.\"\n\n\"I'll alert my teams to be on the lookout for strangers. Do we know who's running our newly turned double from the KGB – or FSB as it now is?\"\n\n\"I'll have a word, and see if we can pick anything up from that source.\"\n\n\"That would be useful.\"\n\nAlgar hung up.\n\nClayton buzzed Barbara, to get Newell and Marsden in for a chat as soon as possible.\n\n\"This is beginning to look interesting,\" said Clayton after he had briefed them.\n\n\"We always thought it would,\" replied Newell. \"But I'll need reinforcements if I'm to deploy teams to California and Abu Dhabi at the same time. I can't afford to send everyone away from this side of things.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" said 'S'.\n\nBarbara knocked on the door.\n\n\"Sir Robin on the red phone again,\" she announced.\n\n\"Now what?\" mumbled Clayton, as he took the call.\n\n\"I thought you should know immediately,\" announced Algar, \"that the Russians have been on to your predecessor, Alan Jarvis.\"\n\n\"What the hell are they up to?\" exclaimed Clayton.\n\n\"Intelligence from our double, that's all, that one of their agents has made contact with him. No idea why, at this stage.\"\n\n\"Perhaps they're trying to get at us, through Jarvis.\"\n\n\"Could be. We're getting taps on his phones, email, and all that as soon as possible, so we may soon know more.\"\n\n\"We need to keep a watch on the man,\" said Clayton.\n\n\"Get someone there as quickly as possible,\" demanded Algar.\n\n\"One small problem,\" said 'S', \"is that he knows all my people. He's bound to spot anyone from here taking an interest.\"\n\n\"Damn! That hadn't occurred to me.\"\n\n\"I'll have to get someone new on the job, but that could take a bit of time. We'll do what we can meanwhile, but we'll have to be hellish careful. If he gets the slightest hint that we're looking at him, anything could happen.\"\n\n\"We could try someone from Special Branch, perhaps.\"\n\n\"I'd rather keep this to myself if we can. But I'll let you know if we can't.\"\n\n\"I must leave that to you,\" said Algar. \"But we do need to know what the Russians are up to as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"You may hear first, once you've got the phone taps in place.\"\n\n\"I'll let you know.\"\n\nClayton briefed the two men still in his office.\n\n\"That's not good news,\" said Newell.\n\n\"I never did trust that man Jarvis,\" volunteered Marsden.\n\n\"Let's try to think this through,\" suggested Clayton. \"The Russians obviously contacted Jarvis because he used to be here, rather than because of where he is now. He hasn't been in his new job long enough to be of any use to them yet. They probably know he left under a cloud and has a chip on shoulder, so they may think they could use him to do something for them and get revenge on us at the same time. But what?\"\n\n\"Maybe it's one of our targets they're after.\"\n\n\"Barclay!\" they all said at once.\n\n\"Of course – Barclay. They must know about the Abu Dhabi and American interest in the man.\"\n\n\"And if they know he's planning another trip to California, they may suspect that he's going to work for them,\" suggested Marsden.\n\n\"Whatever they suspect, they will want the man out of the way.\"\n\n\"Using Jarvis? Surely not!\" said Newell.\n\n\"We don't actually know yet why they approached Jarvis. We're only guessing that it has something to do with Barclay, and we certainly don't know how Jarvis reacted,\" Clayton reminded them. \"But we can't afford to ignore the possibility that it is related to our man, so we must plan accordingly.\"\n\n\"We need to deploy someone to keep an eye on Jarvis immediately. Trouble is, he knows all our people, so we need someone new.\"\n\n\"I'll get a couple of reserves in for the time being,\" suggested Marsden. \"Aunty can get one of his make-up artist friends to work on them a bit – different hair colour, spectacles and so on, so they might stand a chance until we get someone he doesn't know. They will know Jarvis, but he might not recognise them.\"\n\n\"Give it a try,\" said Clayton. \"I'll try to get a new man in quickly, but if I can't, we may need to fall back on Special Branch for one of their top men. Give it some thought if you will, Clive, since that's where you're from.\"\n\nThe meeting broke up, and Bill Clayton buzzed for Barbara.\n\n\"Something wrong?\" she asked, seeing his worried expression.\n\n\"Could be very wrong. Your old boss Alan Jarvis has been contacted by a KGB man working over here.\"\n\n\"Whatever for?\"\n\n\"That's what we have to find out. But we need to keep a watch on the man now, and we need someone to do it who he doesn't know. Try to get hold of General Pearson-Jones for me. He's at the Ministry of Defence, so use the red phone. He may just know someone.\"\n\nHe did, of course.\n\nHead of Section 11 briefly explained his problem, and why he needed someone quickly who Jarvis didn't know.\n\nThe General whistled quietly and was silent for a moment.\n\n\"You could be in deep shit old man, d'you know that?\"\n\n\"I know. Any ideas where I might find a new recruit in double quick time?\"\n\nSilence again.\n\n\"Since it's you, Bill, I'll make a supreme sacrifice. You can have my best chap here. He's due a move soon, but you can borrow him on secondment for as long as you need.\"\n\n\"Tell me about him.\"\n\n\"Special Services, Staff Sergeant, tough as old boots and more secure than the Bank of England's vault. No family ties, happy to work all hours, and itching to get back into the field. I think he's just the man you want.\"\n\n\"Sounds excellent. When can I have him?\"\n\n\"I'll tell him about you straight away – he's already aware of Section 11 – and he can be with you later this afternoon. I'll send his personal record file over by messenger immediately, and send him over on the bus a bit later.\"\n\n\"Why can't he bring his Service record with him?\"\n\n\"Because he'd read the bloody thing, that's why! He's like that.\"\n\n\"What's his name, by the way?\"\n\n\"Miller. 'Dusty' Miller. Your good lady wife Catherine is bound to know him; they were in Iraq at about the same time.\"\n\n\"Thanks, PJ.\"\n\n\"Don't mention it. And good luck – you're probably going to need it.\"\n\nClayton called in his P.A., Marsden and Newell.\n\n\"There's going to be a new man in the Section,\" he told them, \"arriving later this afternoon. Staff Sergeant 'Dusty' Miller of the Int. Corps, currently serving in the Special Forces, on posting to MOD and coming over here on loan for as long as we need him. His job will be to keep an eye on Jarvis, if I decide he's the right man for it. Make sure Mr. Lawrence and the others in building security are warned to expect him. He will have his military I.D. card with him, and he's to be shown straight up here to my office. Warn the section heads that he will be around, and will need briefing as a matter of urgency. Tell Gladys, too. I expect she'll find some forms for him to fill in! Barbara, I shall want to show him photos and videos of Jarvis, so see what you can find in a hurry. And I'd like to see Jarvis's file again, while you're about it. Miller's Army Staff Record folder will be arriving by messenger – make sure I get it immediately. With any luck, we should be able to deploy him late tomorrow or the day after.\"\n\n\"I've got two chaps on their way in who can cover the job until Miller's up to speed,\" said Marsden. \"They'll need photos of Jarvis, too,\" he said, turning to Barbara.\n\n\"Be careful what vehicle we give them,\" said Clayton. \"Remember that Jarvis will be as familiar with our fleet as he is with our people.\"\n\n\"I've already got two cars organised, which I'm borrowing from a second hand dealer I know. Nothing fast or very posh, but they will work.\"\n\n\"Make sure the Tech Support chaps get communications kit organised for our new man, and find him a password and call-sign. Any problems let me know. There's a lot to do, so get cracking.\"\n\n***\n\nMiller's file arrived less than an hour after Clayton had phoned the General. It made interesting reading, and the more he thumbed through it, the more 'S' became convinced that Miller was exactly what they were looking for. The only adverse comments were about his occasional tendency towards insubordination – one reporting officer had described him as 'cheeky'. Clayton could handle that. It was almost certain, too, that Catherine would have come across him during their time with the SAS in Iraq. The dates were about the same. Clayton rang Catherine at home.\n\nHe showed Miller's photograph on his file to Barbara.\n\n\"That's the chap we are expecting,\" he said. \"Make sure you're told when he enters the building, and show him straight in to my office. I'll introduce him to everyone else after we've had a little chat.\"\n\nIt was quite a bit later when Miller arrived. Barbara met him upstairs, and escorted him through the door into 'Ajax Recruitment.'\n\n\"No vacancies, eh?\" said Miller, seeing the notice pinned to the door. \"What am I doing here then?\"\n\n\"You'll soon find out.\" They got to the door marked 'S'. \"Go straight in,\" she said.\n\nMiller knocked politely on the open door, and went straight in. Clayton had his back to the door, and was gazing out of the window.\n\n\"Come in, Miller.\"\n\nMiller hesitated. He was already in. \"Thank you Colonel,\" he said, and went up to the desk.\n\n\"Shut the door, Miller.\"\n\nThe man retraced his steps, shut the door, went up to the desk again and sat down on the chair in front of it.\n\n\"Sit down, Miller,\" said Clayton, still gazing out of the window.\n\nMiller stood up, said 'Thank you Colonel' again, and sat down. This wasn't going quite the way 'Dusty' Miller had hoped. He noticed his personal record file among the clutter of other papers on the desk in front of him, but it was closed. Not that he could read upside-down, anyway.\n\nBarbara knocked and put her head round the door.\n\n\"Coffee?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes please,\" replied Clayton. \"Sergeant Miller has his black with one sugar.\"\n\n\"Does it say that on my staff file, Colonel?\" asked Miller.\n\nClayton turned round to face the man who he had been watching in the reflection on the window.\n\n\"No it doesn't, Miller. Sergeant Catherine Wilson told me. You probably remember her better as 'The Cat', from your days in Iraq.\"\n\n\"Of course I remember her. A brave and tough kid, she was. Does she work here, too?\"\n\n\"No. She's was my Chief Clerk once.\"\n\n\"Bloody hell!\" exclaimed Miller. \"Small world, innit!\"\n\n\"Very. She's left the Army now, and we're married.\"\n\n\"Well I'm damned! You certainly picked a good 'un there, Colonel, if I may say so.\"\n\n\"She remembers you, Miller.\" He picked up Miller's staff file. \"This only tells half of it,\" he said, waving it towards the man.\n\nUnusually, Miller was lost for words. He certainly had not been expecting this, and was hurriedly trying to remember what else Catherine Wilson, as was, could have said about him.\n\nClayton grinned at the man, and sat down behind his desk. \"Welcome aboard,\" he said. \"The Cat is looking forward to meeting you again.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Colonel,\" replied Miller, much relieved.\n\n\"I gather that you led the party that went out into the desert looking for her.\"\n\n\"That's right, Colonel. We got word that she had escaped, and knew she would try to make her way back to base. Frankly, we had given up hope of ever finding her or ever seeing her again, but eventually she got home first, before we found her. I never cease to be amazed how she survived, after what they'd done to her, let alone make her way back. As I said, brave and tough.\"\n\nClayton nodded. \"I'm a lucky man.\"\n\n\"You weren't out there too, were you Colonel?\"\n\n\"No. We met afterwards, in Northern Ireland.\"\n\n\"I know about what you did out there,\" said Miller. \"Rule 1 – 'always find out what you're getting into before you get into it'. I looked you up before I left the office.\"\n\n\"Did you now? Well, now we know a bit about one another, let's get down to the business of the day. If I assess that you're the sort of chap I'm looking for, you'll be out in the field again, if you can call London that, and won't see much of the inside of this place at all.\"\n\n\"That's good,\" replied Miller. \"I was getting bored in MOD.\"\n\n\"You won't get bored on this job, if it develops the way I think it will. And it could be quite dangerous.\"\n\n\"Even better.\"\n\n\"You'll be operating on your own, and the hours will be long and sometimes tedious. You'll be on the tail of a man who works pretty normal office hours, but you'll be on him out of hours as well. All hours, in fact. I want to know what he does, where he goes and especially who he meets. There are phone taps and all the rest of it in place, but you will be the guy on the ground.\"\n\n\"Why me, Colonel?\"\n\n\"Because he doesn't know you, that's why. And please don't call me 'Colonel'. There's no need in this organisation\"\n\n\"Who are we talking about then?\"\n\n\"The chap who used to sit here. The chap who, until I took over, was Head of Section 11. He was effectively sacked, and has a chip on his shoulder and a grudge against us.\"\n\n\"So what?\"\n\n\"So the Russians have been in touch with him, that's what. We think they want to use him to do a job for them, which will also let him get his own back at the same time.\"\n\n\"What sort of thing.\"\n\n\"We're only guessing at the moment, but we can't afford to be proved right when it's too late.\" Clayton briefed Miller about the Barclay case, Op Fusion, and Alan Jarvis. \"Your job will be to stick to Jarvis like glue, report everything he does, and watch everyone he meets.\"\n\n\"Sounds right up my street, Colonel.\"\n\n\"Good. Your briefing will take a day or so, depending on how bright you are, and you'll be kitted out with all the latest communications gear there is. Your mobile phone, for example, will be linked to a secure satellite and fitted out with a high resolution camera – something like ten mega pixels, I think – with a side view finder so that you can talk on the phone quite normally and still take pictures of things ahead of you. You'll have a Browning side arm for personal protection, but you can use it at will against any threat if you have to.\"\n\n\"I'd prefer a Smith and Wesson,\" he said.\n\n\"Browning. Standard issue.\"\n\n\"Very good, Colonel. But I'm better with a Smith and Wesson.\"\n\n\"Browning, and only then if I'm told you're good enough to be trusted with one.\"\n\n\"I'm good enough.\"\n\n\"We'll soon see,\" replied Clayton. \"Let me introduce you to Commander Marsden, who's in charge of operations, and my Deputy. He's ex-Special Boat Service, so you will have something in common.\"\n\nNick had been leaning for sometime against the door he had quietly opened.\n\n\"He will show you around, get you kitted out and put you through your paces. You'll also be given a very detailed briefing. When the Commander thinks you're ready, we'll meet again and you'll either be sent out on the road on your own, or back to General Pearson-Jones's outfit.\"\n\n\"I'll be staying with you,\" said Miller, finishing off his now-cold coffee. \"Tell your Barbara she makes good coffee, and tell Gladys I'm not signing any of her forms until I know I'm staying, and tell your Petty Officer in the armoury – 'Bottom' I think you call him, - that a tenner says I'm a better shot than he is. Even with a Browning.\"\n\n\"How do you know about these people?\" asked Nick.\n\nMiller grinned.\n\n\"Let's just call it research,\" he replied, \"before I left MOD. Rule 2 – 'find out who you'll be working with.'\n\nAs he left with Marsden, Miller turned and said, \"If I can't have a Smith and Wesson, can I use one of your BMW bikes? I rather fancy one of those.\"\n\n\"No\" said Clayton. \"You'll get a bus pass from Gladys if you're lucky. And only then if you sign one of her forms.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Colonel.\"\n\n\"Stop calling me that.\"\n\n***\n\nDepartmental heads met in 'S's office late the next day.\n\n\"Where's Miller now?\" asked 'S'.\n\n\"Next door, drinking coffee with Barbara.\"\n\n\"How's he got on, then,\" asked Clayton.\n\n\"First class, I'd say,\" reported Marsden. \"Your new Doc Perkins put him through his paces, mentally and physically, and says he's still very fit – almost combat ready, in fact – and mentally very stable. He seems to have soaked up his briefing like blotting paper, too.\n\n\"Since he'll be on his own, we gave him a rogues gallery test,\" said Newell, \"and he picked out Jarvis first time every time, blurred photos, in the dark, everything.\"\n\n\"He slept on the premises last night,\" said Marsden, \"and we woke him several times for snap tests, and he was as sharp as a needle immediately. Doc Perkins supervised, and was very impressed.\"\n\n\"How about your side?\" Clayton asked the Petty Officer.\n\n\"No problems with weapons at all. Stripped everything down and got it back together in double quick time, even in the dark. He's a good shot, too. Dead centre almost every time, even with moving targets. Nearly as good as me, in fact.\"\n\n\"That's exactly what he said about you, as a matter of interest!\" said Newell.\n\n\"How about driving, Nick?\"\n\n\"Good pursuit driver; skilled at evasion; seems to have an excellent sense of direction and spatial awareness, so navigation is OK, and he seems safe and confident with almost everything we've got.\"\n\n\"How about personal skills?\"\n\n\"Got on well with everybody, although he did tell Gladys she was breaking the law by smoking at work. She soon sorted that out, as always, and gave him an extra form to fill in – something about third party motor insurance. Now he's next door chatting up Barbara.\"\n\n\"Do we take him on then, bearing in mind this is a special mission we want him for?\" asked Clayton.\n\nThey all nodded enthusiastically.\n\n\"I think we should try to keep him on afterwards, too,\" said Marsden.\n\n\"If he survives. OK, gentlemen, thank you for that. Send him in on your way out.\"\n\nClayton stood as Miller arrived, and shook hands. \"You've just got yourself a new job, Miller. Sit down while I give you a final briefing, then you can visit Gladys to sign for your kit, and hit the road.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure about your Gladys, Colonel,\" he said.\n\n\"She holds this organisation together,\" responded Clayton.\n\n\"Mostly with bent paperclips and red tape, I should think.\"\n\nClayton grinned.\n\n\"Don't be cheeky, Miller. And stop calling me Colonel.\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER EIGHT \\- A FUSION OF INTERESTS\n\nOfficials from the Department for International Development had held a series of meetings with the Foreign Office and the Department of Trade and Industry in an effort to decide how Professor Barclay should respond to the Arab States' request for him to set up and run their nuclear fusion research programme for them. The Civil Servants were beginning to draw up plans for some form of technology transfer agreement, which would allow Barclay to be involved in the Gulf's own development work, while keeping him firmly based in the UK. Barclay's place was at Harwell.\n\nThey could see such a programme developing into the same sort of huge and very lucrative contract as the defence agreement with Saudi Arabia. They were suggesting that Barclay, with a couple of senior UK officials, should visit Abu Dhabi for initial talks with Emirate people, and this proposal was now before the Cabinet for formal approval. It had been established, unofficially, that such a scheme might find favour in the Middle East, provided only that Barclay himself was made available as part of the deal.\n\nAfter much discussion, it had been decided after all to send a Ministerial team to Abu Dhabi, to meet Ministers and senior officials from throughout the United Arab Emirates as a first step. The Emirates were insisting that Professor Jack Barclay should be part of the UK delegation, as they were equally keen to include some of their top scientists at the plenary sessions. The UK held out, however, and insisted on preliminary technical meetings to draw up draft agreements before detailed negotiations took place.\n\nReluctant though he was to leave his research, Barclay eventually agreed, after a series of meetings in Whitehall, to attend meetings in the Gulf when the Government decided that the time was right.\n\nBarclay did what was for him some rather unusual research, and ended up being pleasantly surprised to discover how much his fellow Gulf scientists knew about the work he had been undertaking, and about nuclear fusion in general. It soon became obvious that, with his help and with the vast financial resources available to them, they could quite easily and quickly develop similar facilities to his own, and eventually carry on the work largely un-aided. Barclay was relieved at this, since the last thing he wanted was to spend any undue amount of time in that hot, dusty place. It was the last thing the UK Government wanted, as well.\n\nWhat with that and everything else that was going on, it had been a busy few weeks for Jack Barclay, and, as a result, for Section 11 as well. For a start, he was now making considerable and quite rapid progress in his research after the recent hiatus, and there was now no doubt the he and his team had repositioned the UK at the very forefront of the work being done internationally into the future development of nuclear fusion. The technical team attached to his project was now working furiously to translate his new theoretical hypothesises into the redesigned equipment needed, and to install it at the Harwell laboratory, in order to put his ideas into practice. Such was the progress they were making that they had already achieved a continuous 'burn' of several minutes, almost to the point where sufficient heat was generated in the process for the fusion to become self-sustaining.\n\nHe had somehow also found time to visit the French facility at Cadarache. Both there and at Culham, work was proceeding on the electro-magnetic containment of hydrogen plasma so there was much to discuss, not least because the proposed development of laser containment was so novel. Only Barclay realised that this was probably going to prove the best option for future development, but he wasn't about to share his enthusiasm with the French. Nevertheless, they showed a keen interest, as one would expect.\n\nSo did his colleagues in California. Barclay had flown there direct from Paris, to save a double journey, a last minute change to his diary that caused no little trouble for Section 11. However, they somehow managed to keep up with the man, and had already positioned two of the Op. Fusion team at the University in advance of his arrival. Unlike in France, the American work that was being carried out at the National Ignition Facility within the Lawrence Livermore University was very similar to his own research into the use of lasers, being carried out at his new Rutherford laboratory at Harwell. Jack Barclay knew that he was well ahead of the Americans in his own work, especially after the efforts of the past few weeks, but was keen not to give too much away.\n\nThe Section 11 team, on arrival, had discovered that, although Barclay had declined to give a lecture, a major reception was to be held in his honour before he left after two days of discussion with his fellow American researchers. The Op. Fusion team had somehow managed to get themselves invited to it as part of the UK delegation. The object of this seemingly generous hospitality was simply to bring even more pressure on Barclay to join the Californian team. The US was obviously mounting a very serious attempt to achieve this. During the reception, a member of the Op. Fusion team recognised one of their opposite number, a member of the CIA, among the crowd of delegates, 'keeping an eye a guy we hope will soon be working for us,' the man had said. 'And we're keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn't!' came the reply from Jo Killick. They each knew where the other was coming from – it was that sort of game – and helped themselves to another Jack Daniels as a girl with the drinks tray walked past.\n\nClerkenwell would have to be told about the CIA presence, decided Jo.\n\n\"I hear the Arabs are taking an interest in your Professor, too,\" queried the CIA man.\n\n\"So I hear.\"\n\n\"We wouldn't want him going over to them, would we?\"\n\n\"Or to you,\" said Killick with a grin.\n\n\"Any time at all, the Russians will show up, I guess.\"\n\n\"I think they already have,\" replied the S.11 man, nodding towards the other side of the room. \"Two of them, by the look of it.\"\n\n\"Smart of you – I hadn't spotted them. But one, I recognise. He works over here in the Embassy. How did you know?\"\n\n\"I didn't, but I do now. Why do all Russians look the same?\"\n\n_That's two things to tell HQ_.\n\n\"Does the Prof know you're looking after him?\"\n\n\"Not yet, but it begins to look as if we'll have to tell him soon.\"\n\nBarclay was in deep conversation with a couple of US scientists, who both suddenly clapped him on the shoulder, and, with broad grins, shook his hand. They were out of earshot, but Killick guessed that the Professor had let slip news of his recent major progress. If that was true, then he had just ensured that even greater pressure was put on him to join the Californian team.\n\n_Three things to tell 'S' about, now_.\n\nAs the party broke up, there was quite an excited queue of scientists and other dignitaries wanting to shake Jack Barclay by the hand, many grinning broadly, others patting him on the back. News of Barclay's work had spread fast among those present, and it looked almost as if the Professor had actually agreed to join the team at Livermore. Perhaps he had. Jo Killick looked across the room to the Russians. One was on his mobile phone, looking at what was going on. Killick thought that if their phones were anything like his, he could well be photographing the whole thing.\n\n_Four_.\n\n***\n\nNews of Barclay's obviously successful visit to California was transmitted to Moscow almost immediately. It did not take them long to conclude that the Harwell team had achieved a major breakthrough, which had apparently now been shared with the Americans. It was obvious to Moscow, however, that Barclay could not have passed on any great detail in the time he was there. Indeed, they also knew that his work was Top Secret, and that he would never have briefed his American fellow-scientists in any detail, especially not at what was, after all, a largely social event.\n\nBut it was nevertheless extremely worrying for the Russian authorities. They knew that the USA was keen to recruit Barclay, and that they had sufficient incentives to be able to achieve that aim, both in terms of research facilities at Lawrence Livermore and in terms of seemingly unlimited funding. It was bad enough that the UK appeared to be well ahead of everyone else in their attempt to harness nuclear fusion as an alternative to carbon fuels for energy generation, but the thought that their top man might now be prepared to share his secret development work with the Americans was perceived as a real threat by the Russians. Their own work in this field had not been pursued with any great sense of urgency, since they had vast untapped stocks of oil and gas – sufficient to last them well into the next century, and enough to export to give them a real economic weapon to be used when the political situation so demanded. Indeed, they had already used it in a small way from time to time, and very effective it had been as well.\n\nBut now it began to look as if that weapon was to be denied them. Perhaps not yet, but certainly in the next ten or twenty years. Maybe even sooner, if America and the UK pooled their resources. And all because of Professor Jack Barclay. The Kremlin decided that something had to be done.\n\nNews had also reached the Kremlin of the interest being shown in Barclay's work by the Arab states. Like Russia, they had apparent endless resources of oil and gas, so their interest in the nuclear fusion process was perhaps less obvious. It was assumed that, like America, they simply wanted to get ahead of the game. Also like America, they were prepared to pour money into the research effort in an attempt to lure Professor Barclay into leading their work in this particular field. But the difference was that the UK Government were playing a slightly devious diplomatic game, and working to cash-in on the Middle Eastern interest by setting up a trade agreement in which Barclay would play a key role. If successful, Arab money would pour into the UK as well as Arab oil. Either way, Russian interests would suffer, whether Barclay went over to the Americans or whether he helped the wealthy Arab Emirates to join the race to develop commercially viable nuclear fusion. They would also suffer if Barclay did neither of those things, but remained where he was and kept the UK ahead of other countries.\n\nThere was no question about it – something had to be done.\n\nThe more the problem was discussed, the more it became clear that there were really very few options. Some members of the Politburo had argued that the Harwell project should be sabotaged – and the project at Culham for good measure – but that would in no way neutralise the brilliance of Professor Barclay, who would simply redouble his efforts. Such action would delay the UK's commercial effort, but that's all, and it would therefore be of no direct or immediate benefit to Russia. So that left the man himself. There was no question of enticing Barclay to work in Russia. It simply was not worth trying, as any attempt would only serve to heighten the perception of Russia's own weak position. Perhaps if he were kidnapped, he could be enticed to share his knowledge, although it was not thought that the man had any weaknesses that would enable him to be blackmailed. Removing him from the UK would certainly slow down that country's development work, but keeping him alive in Russia would in itself be dangerous, as news of his whereabouts would almost certainly leak out. It was eventually agreed that it was only possible to slow down the UK effort rather than halt it, and that the removal of Barclay would also deny both America and the Gulf states of any possible assistance from him in the future.\n\nSo that was the conclusion.\n\nBarclay had to be stopped from making any further contribution anywhere, by permanently removing him.\n\n***\n\nAlan Jarvis had been quite astonished, and not a little alarmed, to receive the phone call at home from a Russian agent. He had gone over their brief conversation time after time, but could still not quite make sense of it. At first, he had been inclined to tell his Director at the office immediately, but had eventually decided to wait for a bit, to let things develop. _'Plenty of time then to tell others',_ he had thought.\n\nIt was quite late on a Friday evening when the call had come through.\n\n\"Mr. Alan Jarvis?\" asked the man, with only the hint of an accent.\n\n\"Speaking,\" replied Jarvis.\n\n\"Good evening,\" said the man politely. \"I'm sorry to bother you at home, but we thought it best not to contact you at your office.\"\n\n\"If you're trying to sell me something, I'm not interested,\" said Jarvis crossly.\n\n\"I am not selling anything, Mr. Jarvis.\"\n\n\"Who are you then, and what do you want?\"\n\n\"You will not know me,\" came the reply, \"although I know almost everything about you. For example, I know how furious you are to have been sacked from your previous job, and how you would be only too happy in some way to seek revenge for the way you have been treated.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" demanded Jarvis again.\n\n\"For the moment, that doesn't matter,\" replied the man. \"Let me just say that I have been asked by my superiors in Moscow to contact you, and to tell you that we may be able to suggest a scheme which will allow you get your own back on the Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee, and your successor at Section 11 at the same time.\"\n\n\"What sort of scheme?\"\n\n\"Let us just say that it would also do us a favour, as well as allowing you to vent your quite justified anger.\"\n\n\"What makes you think I should do you any favours, whoever you are?\"\n\n\"When you hear details of what we propose, we are quite sure you will wish to co-operate,\" said the Russian, and hung up.\n\nIf he was honest about it, Jarvis was a bit scared. Not only that, he couldn't make up his mind what to do for the best. In the end, he decided to do nothing. There was nothing he would like more than to get even with Clayton and the people who had put Clayton into his old job, but he wasn't sure he wanted the Russians to help him do it. Neither was he at all sure what the man had meant when he had inferred that he, Jarvis, would want to co-operate with them. This sounded like a threat to him, almost blackmail in fact, and he could not begin to think of anything that he could be blackmailed about. However much he hated his present job, where everybody knew that he had been more or less sacked from Head of Section 11, he still had a good few years to go before he retired, and he didn't want to get caught up working for the Russians. There was really nothing he could do, anyway, except wait for a further contact to be made. It was a great temptation to go to his Director now to tell him of the approach he had received, but he concluded that he should wait until he knew more about the Russian's demands.\n\nAs it happened, his Director knew of the phone call the next day. Which was why 'Dusty' Miller was now sitting patiently down the end of the road, watching and waiting. Although even he did not know what he was watching and waiting for.\n\nIn fact, Miller was beginning to wish he had never taken on this particular assignment. He was getting thoroughly bored by the inaction. He had managed to fix a tracking device to Jarvis's car, which could be useful sometime, and had been in for a quick look round the house one evening when Jarvis and his wife were entertaining friends. That was quite exciting – they hadn't heard him, but on the other hand he had found nothing of the remotest interest either. He hadn't even needed to fix bugs to the phone, as he knew it was already being remotely monitored. So he was stuck, following Jarvis to his Lambeth office every morning, watching where he went for lunch and whom he met, and then following him home again. At least he had been able to establish a pretty good behaviour pattern, so any activity out of the usual should be easier to spot. So far, there hadn't been any.\n\nIn his Clerkenwell office, 'S' was also beginning to wonder if Miller was wasting his time, and had said so at one of his regular briefing meetings with Sir Robin Algar. However, the Cabinet Secretary had been adamant – the tip-off from their Soviet agent had been positive enough, and there had been the phone call to Jarvis since then. We could not afford to drop our guard until we had positive intelligence that it was safe to do so.\n\nNot long after that, however, reports reached London from the Moscow Embassy that they had picked up conversations with 'Barclay' and 'Jarvis' both mentioned in the same sentence. Nobody could be sure why, or in what context, but it was enough for 'S' to call in Miller for a chat, as Clayton put it.\n\n\"Something's going on,\" he told Miller, \"although we can't be sure what. Just to be on the safe side, I'm allocating you some support so we can keep a 24-hour watch on Jarvis from now on. We shall be briefing your new team-mates tomorrow, specially selected like you and everyone else in this outfit, but I want you here to give them a detailed run-down on Jarvis – life-style, movements, routine, who he meets and all that.\"\n\n\"A bit of action at last, perhaps,\" said Miller. \"I must admit, Colonel, I was getting quite bored.\"\n\n\"Well, don't be,\" replied Clayton. \"Keep on your toes, and make sure you report the slightest thing that's out of the ordinary. In particular, we're looking for any sign of possible further Russian contact with Jarvis. We've got a tap on his phones, but look out for him starting to use dead letter boxes, and that sort of thing. And stop calling me Colonel.\"\n\n\"Leave it to me, Colonel,\" replied 'Dusty', cheekily.\n\n\"I've no option at the moment. I'll let you know if we pick up anything useful.\"\n\nA few days later, they did. It was shortly after Barclay's acclaimed visit to America when, at about the same time, MI6's Moscow station and GCHQ in Cheltenham both reported that instructions had been issued to 'activate Jarvis.'\n\n'S' immediately alerted the Fusion team and Miller, before going to an emergency meeting in the Cabinet Office.\n\n\"It would help if we knew what Jarvis was being activated to do,\" grumbled Clayton.\n\n\"Well, we don't,\" replied the Joint Intelligence Committee chief.\n\n\"I suspect that Jarvis doesn't, either, at the moment,\" said Clayton. \"We know he's been offered some sort of opportunity to get even with us, but that's all.\"\n\n\"Barclay has to be the best bet,\" agreed Sir Robin, \"especially as we now have reports of Russian conversations mentioning both Barclay and Jarvis together.\"\n\n\"What bothers me is whether or not we should tell Barclay of the various threats against him.\"\n\n\"We only think he's under threat – we still don't know for certain.\"\n\n\"It might help him to keep vigilant if he did know of what we suspect,\" said Clayton. \"On the other hand, it could be the last straw for the man, who we know is already under great stress.\"\n\n\"If we did tell him, we could reassure him up to a point by telling him of the protection you are offering – and have been for several months. But frankly,\" said Sir Robin, \"I can't see how telling him of our suspicions will help either him or us. There's no doubt, though, that we must stay close to the man, wherever he is.\"\n\n\"What puzzles me is the role Jarvis might be playing in all this,\" said Clayton. \"His conversation the other week with the Russian, who we have not yet identified, almost carried with it a threat. Saying that Jarvis would want to cooperate with them suggested blackmail, but I've been through his file again and again, and can't turn up anything at all.\"\n\n\"Neither can I,\" admitted Algar. \"Seems happily married, no evidence or suggestion of any affairs anywhere, no financial problems, no dubious political interests – nothing.\"\n\nThe two men sat in silence for a moment.\n\n\"I think I'll have a quiet word with my Barbara,\" said Clayton. \"You know how women have a nose for these things, and she's not only very bright, but worked with the man for four or more years before I arrived. She may have a clue.\"\n\nThe Cabinet Secretary nodded his agreement.\n\n***\n\nBefore 'S' had a quiet word with his PS, Barbara, he thought it prudent to talk first to Nick Marsden about Jarvis. But Nick had nothing concrete to offer, and had himself been mystified by the apparent threat contained in the Russian's phone call.\n\n\"Could be something from the man's private life, I suppose,\" he suggested. \"Jarvis had a reputation for being a bit of a snake in the grass and something of a womaniser, but he always seemed happily enough married. It was probably all bravado, but he did once try chatting up Barbara, I remember.\"\n\n\"I was thinking I would have a word with her, to see if she could throw any light on what the Russians might have on him. You wouldn't object, would you?\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" replied Marsden.\n\n\"I know you've been seeing her from time to time lately, that's all.\"\n\n\"It's no secret,\" replied Nick. \"We are getting on quite well, as it happens – dinner out, a couple of visits to the theatre, that sort of thing. She's very loyal to the Section and to you, so I'm sure she'll help if she can.\"\n\n\"Good. I'll let you know if anything comes of our chat.\"\n\nThey had their chat the next morning. Barbara always attended the informal meeting Clayton had with his departmental heads every day, to keep a note of anything worth noting.\n\n\"I hope you don't mind staying behind after 'prayers', but I wanted a quiet word with you about my predecessor. You know the background, of course – mysterious phone call from the Russians offering him the chance to get his own back on us, then the apparent link to Barclay. What we can't work out is why they should think he would want to help them in any way, but during their phone call to him, they said – hang on a minute.\" Clayton thumbed through the papers of his desk. \"Ah, yes. Here it is. They said, and I quote, 'When you hear details of what we propose, we are quite sure you will wish to co-operate.' We simply can't work out what makes them so sure. It sounds like a threat to blackmail the man about something or other, but what?\"\n\nBarbara shrugged.\n\n\"You worked with the man for years, so I wondered if you might have the slightest idea.\"\n\n\"Not really,\" she offered.\n\n\"He had a bit of a reputation as a womaniser, as I hear. Anything in that, I wonder?\"\n\nBarbara looked uncomfortable, and, Bill thought, almost blushed.\n\n\"He did have one or two shall we say, 'flirtations', as I recall, but I don't know of any serious or long lasting affair.\"\n\n\"Did he ever try to flirt with you?\" asked Bill. \"I don't want to pry, of course, but I do need to find some sort of clue to what's going on.\"\n\n\"Of course you do,\" agreed Barbara, \"and as it happens he did chat me up a bit in the very early days after he arrived here.\"\n\n\"Did you go out together?\"\n\n\"Yes, we did few times. I was much younger then, of course,\" she added, almost as an excuse.\n\nBill nodded, and looked closely at the girl. She was certainly attractive, no doubt about it.\n\n\"I hope you don't mind me asking,\" said Bill awkwardly, \"but do you still find the man attractive?\"\n\n\"No I don't,\" she replied emphatically. \"Quite honestly, I can't stand the man.\"\n\n\"And yet you didn't leave, or apply for a transfer or anything. Why did you stay on working for him?\"\n\n\"Because I like the job so much, and I knew he wouldn't be here for ever. So I put up with him.\"\n\n\"And he never caused you any more trouble – nothing to make you regret your decision to stay?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"And now you're here, I'm even more glad I stayed on.\"\n\n\"And Nick was a bit of an incentive as well, I suppose,\" guessed Clayton.\n\n\"Yes, he was. I like him a lot. You know we go out together sometimes?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do know.\"\n\n\"I remember you saying when you first arrived that it was your job to know things,\" she reminded him.\n\n\"Ah, yes! And how is Donald?\"\n\n\"As wonderful as ever,\" she replied.\n\n\"Well, I'm sorry to have quizzed you like that, but I really have learnt a little bit more about Alan Jarvis, thanks to your honesty. Although I still have no idea what the Russian meant.\"\n\n\"Neither have I,\" replied Barbara. \"But if anything should occur to me, then I'll tell you immediately.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you will – and thanks.\"\n\nAs Barbara stood to leave, Bill said, \"By the way, does Jarvis know about Donald by any chance?\"\n\nThe girl sat down again. After a pause, she almost whispered, \"Yes, he does.\"\n\nBill leant forward. \"Did you tell him?\"\n\n\"No,\" she replied, quietly. \"I didn't need to. Alan Jarvis is Donald's father.\"\n\nThere was a stunned silence.\n\n\"That's something I did _not_ know,\" said Bill. \"I did not have the slightest idea, I promise you.\"\n\nThe girl sighed.\n\n\"Mrs Jarvis has no idea, either,\" she said, \"and I'm not about to tell her. Alan is actually very fond of my little boy, and sees him when he can get away from home for long enough. But that's not often.\"\n\n\"He certainly hasn't since we've been keeping an eye on him,\" said Clayton. \"We would have thought it odd, and a bit suspicious, if he had called at your home.\"\n\n\"I have to let him see the boy of course, although I wish I didn't. Donald really doesn't like him at all. The child can't understand who this strange man is.\"\n\n\"Does Jarvis pay you any sort of allowance, may I ask?\"\n\n\"Not a penny. His wife would find out if he did.\"\n\n\"I asked you once before if anyone else here knew about Donald. Does anyone?\"\n\n\"Nobody did when you asked, but Nick does now. The two have actually met, and get on together like a house on fire.\" She smiled.\n\nBill Clayton thought for a moment.\n\n\"Does Nick know that Alan Jarvis is Donald's father?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"I shan't tell him,\" promised Clayton. \"But perhaps you should, in view of what's going on.\"\n\nBarbara thought for a moment. \"I suppose you're right. I'll tell him, at the right moment.\"\n\n\"Barbara, would you prefer from now on to be kept out of the loop of people who know about what's going on with Jarvis?\"\n\n\"Not at all – it's part of my job to know what's going on, and I have no loyalty towards the man whatsoever. Only to you and the Section. Frankly, I couldn't give a damn what happens to him,\" she said angrily.\n\n\"Nor me, come to that,\" replied 'S'. \"My job is simply to keep him away from Barclay.\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER NINE \\- THE BRIDGE IN THE PARK\n\nIt seemed to 'S', and to 'C', and to the Cabinet Secretary, and to everyone else with any interest in the well-being of Professor Jack Barclay, that the Russians were being particularly slow to respond to the instruction from Moscow to 'activate Jarvis'.\n\nTwo days had passed now, and nothing had happened. At least, nothing they were aware of. The truth was that they were all getting a bit jittery and worried in case they had missed something. But, according to 'Dusty' Miller, Jarvis was behaving absolutely normally. He had certainly not met anyone that Miller had not seen him meet before, and nothing of any relevance had been noted from the telephone and email intercepts. The only thing that GCHQ had been able to report was that they thought they had identified the earlier caller. From his voiceprint, it seemed likely that he was a second secretary in the cultural department of the Russian Embassy. Since that was the home of many KGB members, it did not surprise anyone too much, although this man had not been used in such a prominent role before. Perhaps he'd had promotion.\n\nIt was a bit of a shock, then, not least to Jarvis himself, when he received a late night call to his home from the same man. It certainly had the immediate effect of galvanising everyone who was told about the call.\n\n\"Meet me on the bridge over the lake in St. James's Park at half past twelve tomorrow afternoon. I shall be reading the Daily Mail, and have a copy of the Financial Times under my arm. I told you that you would be only too pleased to help us. By the time we meet, we shall have Donald.\"\n\nThat was all. The man hung up. A second secretary in the cultural department he might be, but what he had said had the same effect on Jarvis as if the Russian President himself had made the call.\n\nBill Clayton was at home, too, like everyone else except a few duty officers at Section 11. Sir Robin Algar rang him.\n\n\"Get into the office as quickly as possible, and ring me in my office on the red phone. I suggest you get Nick in as well.\"\n\nClayton rang Barbara first, then Nick Marsden, both with the same message.\n\n\"Get into the office as quickly as possible. Looks like a major panic on.\"\n\nNick got there first – just – and had the kettle on by the time 'S' arrived. Barbara was busy turning the boiling water into coffee, as Clayton got through to Sir Robin Algar.\n\n\"What's going on?\" asked Clayton without beating about the bush. Nick Marsden was listening in on the extension.\n\n\"Jarvis has been 'activated',\" was the reply. \"We intercepted a call to him an hour or so ago, giving him instructions to meet his contact at lunchtime tomorrow. Of course, we shall have plenty of people around to watch what goes on, but we may not be able to monitor what's said.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"The rendezvous is on the bridge across the lake in St. James's Park, which is notoriously busy at lunchtime, particularly on a fine day. And the forecast for tomorrow is for it to be a fine day.\"\n\n\"Who is Jarvis meeting, do we know?\"\n\n\"Probably the man who's now made two phone calls to him. This call is certainly from the same chap – the voice signature matches. We are only assuming that it will be him at the meeting.\"\n\n\"I'll tip off my chaps,\" said Clayton. \"We'll have to make sure we don't trip over one another. Is MI5 or Special Branch being activated?\"\n\n\"Special Branch. We have arranged for their technical chaps to be working on the bridge tomorrow – minor repairs and a bit of painting, that sort of thing – trying to bug the thing to pick up what's said.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said Clayton. \"I wouldn't mind a live feed from that if you could arrange it.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" agreed Algar. \"Shall I have it patched through into your Ops. Room?\"\n\n\"Yes. If Jarvis is being targeted against Barclay, we need to know about it.\"\n\n\"Consider it done.\"\n\n\"Anything else I need to know?\" asked Clayton.\n\n\"Not really,\" replied the Cabinet Secretary. \"Just one thing we couldn't really understand. Something about 'by the time we meet we'll have Donald', but it really meant nothing......\"\n\n\"WHAT?\" yelled Clayton, and hung up, Cabinet Secretary or not.\n\nNick rushed into Bill's office.\n\n\"Hear that?\" he said. \"Donald, for God's sake. Now we know what their hold is over Jarvis. We're idiots not to have worked that out.\"\n\n\"Barbara told you?\"\n\n\"Yesterday.\"\n\n\"Grab her, take our para-medic ambulance with bells, sirens, flashing lights and whatever else it's got, and go like hell for her place in Dulwich. If he's still there when you get there, bring Donald back here.\"\n\nNick didn't need to be told twice. He shot out of Bill's office, yelled at Barbara to drop everything and run, and made straight for the underground garage. She looked quizzically at Bill, who was at the door, on her way out.\n\n\"GO,\" he shouted. \"Don't hang about – Nick will explain.\"\n\nBill shot back into his office, and got on the phone to the garage. By the time Nick and Barbara got there, the engine of the yellow and blue-hatched Mercedes was running and the garage security door was open. There was a squeal of tyres as the vehicle plunged out into the darkness, and headed south at breakneck speed.\n\nThere was little 'S' could do now, except wait and hope.\n\nHe poured himself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. He really should phone the Cabinet Secretary to apologise. But what could he say? That Donald was the illegitimate son of Jarvis, and Barbara was his mother? Barbara might not be very pleased about that news getting about in Whitehall. It was a closely kept secret. Nobody knew. And yet, somehow, the Russians had found out. Who could possibly have told them? What the devil's going on here..... ?\n\nHe picked up the red phone.\n\n\"Sorry to hang up so abruptly like that,\" he said when Robin Algar answered, \"but I had to act fast and explain afterwards. You need to know that Donald is Jarvis's son. The Russians obviously planned to kidnap the boy so as to blackmail Jarvis into doing whatever it is they want him to do.\"\n\n\"I had no idea,\" exclaimed Algar. \"What can we do?\"\n\n\"We are already doing it. A couple of my people are on their way to kidnap Donald ourselves, as fast as we can get there. I just hope we aren't too late, that's all.\"\n\n\"So what happens if you do get the boy?\"\n\n\"I'm only just beginning to think this through,\" replied Clayton. \"But we could get word to Jarvis that the boy has been taken, and lead him to believe that Russians have got him. That way, Jarvis will co-operate with them, and we should then be able to find out what it is they're after.\"\n\n\"Sounds a good idea, but it could be dangerous.\"\n\n\"This is a dangerous business. We'll need to stick to Jarvis like glue from now on. I'll get a couple of Special Branch people, who he won't know, to help us out.\"\n\n\"Agreed. Let me know if there's any help you need. And I'm sorry I didn't mention Donald sooner, but it meant nothing to anyone here.\"\n\n\"Let's just hope we're quick enough, that's all, and get to him before they do.\"\n\n***\n\nAs best he could, Nick told Barbara what was happening, while trying to reassure her that Donald was going to be OK and that they would be there well before the Russians could lay a finger on him.\n\n\"Since he's at home and in bed now anyway, with your Mother there to look after him, they were probably planning on grabbing the boy sometime tomorrow morning, perhaps on his way to nursery school.\"\n\n\"I do hope you're right,\" she said. \"Please hurry, Nick. Please!\"\n\n\"I'm doing my best, old love. I think we'll go the usual way, over Waterloo Bridge and down through Elephant and Castle. At least the traffic won't be so bad at this time of night, and with the siren and lights going, we should cut through what there is.\"\n\nBarbara rang her mother on the mobile. Donald was still there and OK.\n\n\"Get him awake, Ma. Tell him we're going for a ride in a really fast car as a special treat. Shove a few clothes in a bag, and some of his favourite toys. We'll be away for a couple of days, but there's no need to worry. We got wind of a possible kidnap attempt, so don't open the door to anyone until we get there.\"\n\n\"Where are you now?\" asked her Mother anxiously.\n\n\"I'm not really sure, but Nick's driving and seems to know where he is.\"\n\n\"Fifteen minutes,\" shouted Nick. \"We'll be there in fifteen minutes or less if we're lucky.\"\n\nBarbara had noticed that Nick got the car up to nearly 80 on one short stretch of road, even though he was driving down the wrong side. Other vehicles sensibly stopped or got out of the way. Nick was certainly a very good driver, but she shut her eyes just the same, and hung on tight.\n\n\"This would have been quicker if our HQ was in Camberwell and not Clerkenwell,\" he observed, as they swung south into Denmark Hill at nearly 90.\n\nIf he was honest, Nick was quite enjoying himself. He hadn't needed to drive like this for a long time, especially at night. It was good to keep his hand in, but he was nevertheless desperately worried that they would not get to Donald in time.\n\n\"Nearly there,\" he announced. \"You dive in and grab Donald while I turn the car round.\"\n\n\"Will you come in with me?\"\n\n\"No. I'd rather scout round to make sure we're not being watched by the opposition, if you don't mind.\"\n\nNick turned off the flashing lights and the siren a few streets away, so as not to arouse undue attention when they arrived at the house.\n\nBarbara dashed into the house as Nick turned the car and had a careful look round to make sure the place wasn't being watched. As he was in the surveillance business himself, he knew what to look for. Although it was dark, he was pretty sure there were no strangers about – not outside, anyway. Except that, just as Barbara re-appeared with Donald in her arms, a British Telecom van pulled slowly into the road and stopped a few houses away. Nick recognised it as one of theirs. _'Good old Bill,'_ he thought.\n\n\"Hello, young man,\" he said. \"Isn't this a surprise, then! I bet you've always wanted a drive in one of these, with the siren going.\"\n\nA rather sleepy Donald nodded and grinned. \"Will you drive fast, Uncle Nick?\"\n\n\"As fast as I can, you watch!\"\n\nHe turned to Barbara. \"I think the coast is clear, so we can risk a quick call to the Boss, if you would. Just say 'mission accomplished, and thanks for sending BT.'\"\n\n\"BT?\" she queried.\n\n\"There's one of our BT vans in your road – arrived just as we left. They'll be able to keep an eye on your mother from inside their little tent thing, while they fix the phones!\"\n\n\"What a relief!\"\n\n\"Your Bill thinks of everything,\" said Nick, turning on the siren and putting his foot down again.\n\nWhen they got back to Clerkenwell, the garage door was already open for them, and they drove straight in. Bill Clayton was there to meet them.\n\n\"Come up to my office.\"\n\nThey followed him through the security checks and upstairs.\n\n\"Am I glad to see you, young man,\" Bill said to Donald. \"Did you have a nice ride in the ambulance?\"\n\n\"Uncle Nick drove very fast, and had the hooters going all the way,\" he replied excitedly.\n\n\"Great fun, wasn't it,\" said Barbara to her young son. \"And thank you Bill for all you've done. I take it the threat was a real one?\"\n\n\"Very real, I'm afraid, and we still need to take care. But I think the immediate danger is over. At least we have Donald. I've arranged for you both to stay in our flat for the time being, if that's all right.\"\n\n\"I was wondering what we should do next.\"\n\n\"I've sent someone over with one of our camp beds from the store here, and Catherine is making that up, and a proper bed for you, in our spare room. Gladys made me sign for the bed, by the way!\"\n\n\"Something else to thank you for,\" grinned Barbara, the tension lifted.\n\n\"I've a favour to ask you, though,\" said Bill Clayton. \"I want you to do a bit of acting for me, and to ring Alan Jarvis to tell him hysterically that Donald has been taken from his bed. I want him to think that the Russians have done it, so that he keeps his rendezvous with them tomorrow – or later today, I should say. Unless he does that, we shall never find out what it is they want from him. Can you do that, do you think?\"\n\n\"I think so. I'll do my best to sound convincing.\"\n\n\"He's expecting them to take Donald, so he shouldn't be too surprised.\"\n\nNick chipped in. \"He might just tell you not to phone the police under any circumstances. If he does, try to find out why not, and then eventually agree. He won't ring them, as he will be as keen as you are to ensure Donald's safety, and to play his part in order to get Donald released.\"\n\n\"Good point Nick. Why not use your office, Barbara, and we'll listen in. Leave Donald here to enjoy his coke.\"\n\n\"And when your Mama has finished on the phone,\" said Nick to him, \"I'll show you around the garage and all the cars we've got. Then you must get to bed at Uncle Bill's.\"\n\nJarvis was shocked to get Barbara's phone call, especially at such an ungodly hour of the night, but not altogether surprised by her news. She was as hysterical as she could be, and Jarvis had a job to calm her down. As predicted, he was insistent that she did not call the Police.\n\n\"Just leave this to me,\" he told her. \"I'm sure I know what's happened, and that I can get Donald back safe and sound within a day or so.\"\n\n\"How can you be so sure,\" she demanded.\n\n\"Because of information I've received at the office.\"\n\n\"If you knew Donald was going to be kidnapped, why didn't you stop it, you bastard?\" she screamed at him.\n\n\"There was no way of stopping it, and I wasn't at all sure that he was at risk anyway. But now it's happened, you can trust me to get him back safely.\"\n\n\"Why should I ever trust you?\" she yelled.\n\n\"Because there's nobody else.\n\n\"There is. I'll ring the police this very minute,\" she shouted.\n\n\"For God's sake, don't so that. You will only put the boy at greater risk, and prejudice my chances of getting him released quickly and safely.\"\n\n\"I don't trust you, Alan.\"\n\n\"I know that, and I can understand why. But I promise I'll do whatever I have to, to get Donald back to you soon.\"\n\n\"I'll give you a few hours, if you really insist,\" she said, \"but if I don't hear something positive from you by mid-morning, I'm ringing the police.\"\n\n\"I need a bit longer than that,\" pleaded Jarvis. \"But I should know something after lunch, and I'll ring you then.\"\n\n\"Why not before?\"\n\n\"Because I'm meeting someone, that's why.\"\n\n\"Already arranged, is it? You knew all along this was going to happen and who's behind it, and you did nothing to stop it, you bastard,\" she shouted. \"The police are going to love this when I tell them that you were behind the kidnapping of your own son.\"\n\n\"Barbara, don't make things worse,\" he pleaded. \"I'll ring you at the office as soon as I can after lunch. I promise. Please trust me just for once.\"\n\n\"If you don't, you'll have the police knocking on your door with an arrest warrant in the afternoon. I suggest you take a toothbrush with you to the office tomorrow.\"\n\nAnd she put the phone down with a bang.\n\n\"You're wasted here, you know,\" said Nick, putting an arm round her. \"You should be on the stage.\"\n\n\"That was brilliant,\" agreed Bill. \"You really put the man on the spot, and he must be sweating now. But he said he would do whatever he had to, to get Donald back, so the Russians have him over a barrel. With any luck, we'll soon find out what they want.\"\n\n\"One thing bothers me,\" said Nick.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"They will know that they haven't kidnapped Donald, and that someone else has taken the boy.\"\n\n\"My guess is that they planned to take him either when he arrived at his Nursery school later this morning, or while he was there,\" conjectured Clayton. \"If he doesn't turn up for school, they can't do that, but there could be a hundred reasons for Donald missing a day. I think they will certainly keep the appointment with Jarvis at lunchtime. The fact is that Jarvis will think they have taken Donald so it doesn't really matter to them what's happened to him – Jarvis will just do what they want anyway.\"\n\n\"I hope you're right,\" said Nick.\n\n\"We'll soon find out. Now let's all go home and get some sleep while we can. Today already looks like being a long day.\"\n\n***\n\nSpecial Branch had permission from the Royal Parks Police to take their van close to the St. James's Park bridge. They were there mid-morning, and were soon clambering all over it with spanners and paintbrushes, some in the lake in waders. Nick was in the Ops. Room early, although Bill Clayton and Barbara were a bit later in than usual, having needed to make sure that Donald was settled first. When they left for Clerkenwell, he was happily playing with some of Bill's old toys, which Catherine had dug out of an equally aged tin trunk. He seemed quite pleased to be missing a day at school, not least because Nick had promised him a ride in something else out of the garage later, if he was good.\n\nBarbara had phoned her Mother earlier to reassure her that all was well, but advised her to stay indoors if possible until further notice, and not to answer the door to anyone. As she and Bill left his flat, she noticed two men on a motorbike parked a little way down the road.\n\nDonald would be safe now.\n\n***\n\nTo say that Alan Jarvis had slept badly would be an exaggeration. He hadn't slept at all. The Russians certainly had him over a barrel now, but he couldn't for the life of him work out how the Russians had discovered that Donald was his son. Nobody knew – only Barbara, of course, and he couldn't imagine that she had told them, or even had any contact with them, in spite of working where she did. He had no idea yet, either, what it was they were going to ask him to do to secure Donald's release, but hadn't long to wait, now, and lunchtime couldn't come soon enough. That was the imperative, securing Donald's safety, although getting even with the Cabinet Secretary and Section 11 would be a bonus.\n\nHis wife had rung in to the office to say he was unwell, and wouldn't be at his desk today. She certainly thought he looked dreadful when he left the house 'to get some fresh air.' He got to the park early, but the man was already there, leaning over the railings of the bridge, Financial Times under his arm, reading the Mail. As usual, there were lots of people about. Some were feeding the ducks, others eating their sandwiches, while even more were simply enjoying the sun in deckchairs and listening to the band playing on the bandstand. Tourists thronged the bridge as well, taking photos of one another, or just the view, either of the Foreign Office or Buckingham Palace, or both. 'Dusty' Miller was also there, taking photographs, although you would have been forgiven for thinking he was simply chatting on his mobile phone.\n\nJarvis lent over the railings next to the man. They admired the view together in silence for a few moments.\n\nEventually, the man said, \"Kind of you to meet me here, Mr. Jarvis.\"\n\n\"Did I have a choice?\"\n\n\"Not really.\"\n\n\"I want my son released unharmed immediately,\" said Jarvis.\n\nThe man was surprised, but tried not to show it. He knew by then that they had not, after all, kidnapped the boy.\n\n\"Your son?\" he queried. \"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about.\"\n\n\"You know bloody well what I'm talking about,\" replied Jarvis. \"You said you'd have Donald by the time we met, and you know he was taken from his bed late last night. I want him back.\"\n\nThe man looked over the railings at a passing duck, and a few workmen busy under the bridge.\n\n\"You have to earn his release, Mr Jarvis,\" said the man.\n\n\"What do you want me to do?\"\n\nThe man stood and folded both his two newspapers together.\n\n\"This place is a bit crowded, don't you think? Let's take a stroll round the lake while we talk.\"\n\n\"Shit!\" shouted Nick from the Ops. Room. \"We were picking all that up quite nicely, and now they've wandered off and we shall never know what's going on.\"\n\n\"There's no way Miller or anyone else, will ever be able to hear what they say,\" said Clayton. \"Bugger it!\"\n\nHe thought for a minute.\n\n\"We'll have to double up the watch on Jarvis now,\" he concluded. \"We simply can't afford to lose track of him.\"\n\n\"I'll get that organised,\" said Nick. \"We'll have to use chaps he might recognise, but we can't help that. Let's hope he will be too pre-occupied to notice.\"\n\n\"Tell Miller when you get a chance,\" said 'S'. \"But I want him in charge.\"\n\n***\n\nMiller knew that the office would have lost touch with Jarvis and his contact as soon as they moved away from the bridge. He also realised that it was now more important than ever to keep close to Jarvis, a job not made any easier by the fact that he was operating on his own.\n\nHe called the Ops. Room to let them know that he was still in visual contact. He followed the pair at a safe distance, and could tell that Jarvis was listening intently to whatever it was the Russian was saying. At one point, the Russian handed something to Jarvis. Something small. Not a package, but small, like a coin. A key, perhaps? Miller couldn't think what else it might be, so called Clerkenwell again. He had managed to get a photo of the hand-over, but only from behind them, and not close enough to be able to tell what it was. Eventually, having circled the top half of the lake and crossed the bridge again, they parted company at the tea-room. The Russian went inside, and Jarvis walked on, quickening his pace.\n\n' _Now what?'_ wondered Miller.\n\nHe did not have long to wonder. Jarvis headed straight for St. James's Park underground station. Miller knew his mobile phone, however sophisticated, would not work underground on the Tube, so he quickly got through to the Ops. Room before he went in to the station entrance. \"Jarvis is buying a ticket,\" he reported. \"Now going down to the westbound platform. Keep the line open.\"\n\nHe dashed to the ticket office, barged in at the head of the queue, and flashed his pass to the bewildered booking clerk.\n\n\"Where did that man book to?\" he demanded urgently, hearing a train approaching.\n\n\"Heathrow,\" replied the man. \"Terminal three.\"\n\nJarvis repeated this over the phone, as he dashed down the steps two at a time, and dived on to the train just as the doors closed. He watched Jarvis board the train three carriages further up. He would have to work his way forward at the next two stations to make sure he ended up in the same part of the train. He looked at the map above the train window. ' _Change at Earls' Court',_ he thought, _'then Piccadilly Line straight through.'_ Earls' Court was a difficult interchange – down escalators, along corridors, down stairs – but somehow Miller managed to keep Jarvis in sight until he got on the train to Heathrow. This time, Miller was in the same carriage.\n\nHe had no idea whether his message had got through to Clerkenwell or not, but there was nothing Miller could do now until he came out into the open again – probably at the airport.\n\nNick was still in the Ops. Room, and just caught part of Miller's last message – the part that said 'Heathrow' was clear enough, and they all thought they just heard 'terminal three', before the signal faded and finally disappeared.\n\nSoon, everyone who needed to know did know.\n\nJarvis was heading for the airport.\n\n***\n\n\"What the hell has he been sent there for?\" Bill demanded.\n\n\"He surely can't be going anywhere, can he?\" said Nick. \"He has no luggage, not even a cabin bag, and probably hasn't got his passport either, unless we missed a phone call or something.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he's meeting someone.\"\n\n\"But who? We know Barclay is at Harwell, so it's not him.\"\n\n\"Just suppose,\" said Head of Section, \"that it _was_ a key he was given. He could be going to collect something.\"\n\n\"I thought they did away with left luggage facilities ages ago for security reasons,\" said Nick.\n\n\"Let's get on the internet to find out,\" said Clayton. He typed in 'Left Luggage – London', and immediately got the British Tourist Authority website.\n\n\"There it is,\" he exclaimed. \"A company called Excess Baggage has facilities at main line stations and the two airports. See – 'London Heathrow terminal three arrivals (0530-2230) near car hire desks', it says. I bet that's it.\"\n\n\"We can get someone there by bike quicker than by tube, too,\" said Marsden. \"William Gordon's in the rest room – I'll send him on a BMW. BARBARA,\" he shouted. \"Photos of Jarvis please, and quick.\"\n\nGordon was there at least fifteen minutes before Jarvis turned up, hotly pursued up the escalator by Miller. Jarvis withdrew a small brief case, closely watched, Gordon noticed, by a man who was very Russian-looking, chatting on a mobile phone. Being the good man that he was, Gordon also reported that the briefcase looked too heavy to have just papers in it.\n\n\"Something like a gun, perhaps,\" he said.\n\nJarvis headed back towards the Underground, but rang Barbara first. It was the briefest of calls.\n\n\"I now know what I have to do to secure the release of Donald,\" he told her, \"and he should be back with, you safe and sound, either tomorrow night or early the next morning.\"\n\nMiller quickly scribbled down Jarvis's home address and gave it to Gordon before setting off in chase. \"Get there quick in case he goes straight home. I could just lose him in the rush hour.\"\n\n\"So sorry I can't give you a lift back to base,\" grinned William.\n\n\"Piss off!\" 'Dusty' Miller hurried after the disappearing Jarvis who now, thought Miller, looked distinctly ill.\n\n***\nCHAPTER TEN \\- A SHOT IN THE DARK\n\n\"So what with one thing and another, we've had quite a busy couple of days,\" concluded the Head of Section 11 at a hurriedly arranged, and very late-night briefing meeting with the Cabinet Secretary. \"But we are still in a very confused situation.\"\n\n\"I must say, though,\" said Sir Robin, \"that you and your team seem to have done remarkably well to keep up with events.\"\n\n\"As a matter of fact, we have kept ahead of some of them,\" corrected Bill Clayton, \"as well as keeping in close contact with Professor Barclay. Let me summarise. First of all, we have managed to 'kidnap' Jarvis's son before the Russians could. And that must be causing them no end of a problem, because although they know he's been taken, they also know that they didn't do it. Jarvis, however, thinks they did, so is going along with their demands. From a brief conversation we overheard, it seems likely that he will be taking action tomorrow, probably tomorrow evening, although we still don't know what it is he's expected to do. Somehow, we also managed to keep up with Jarvis at his rendezvous with the Russian, and actually got to the airport before him in the end, although that was a bit of luck.\"\n\n\"Your man keeping an eye on Jarvis has done well.\"\n\n\"He's worked very hard and done an excellent job so far. But he's been operating on his own for some time, and is really quite exhausted, so I've sent him home for some rest while a couple of others keep watch now that Jarvis is home again.\"\n\n\"There are still quite a lot of loose ends, aren't there?\" queried Algar.\n\n\"There are certainly a couple of things I'd dearly love to know right now,\" agreed Clayton, \"not least how the Russians discovered that Jarvis had a son. But more importantly, we have no idea what Jarvis's next move will be, or when he will make it, although we think it will be late tomorrow. We've doubled up on our surveillance of Barclay, just to be on the safe side, and I'm still tempted to let him know what's going on so that he too can be on his guard. The other thing is that we have no idea what was in the briefcase Jarvis collected, and no way of finding out.\"\n\nJust for once, 'S' was quite wrong.\n\nIn spite of being at the end of his tether, 'Dusty' Miller had not, in fact, gone home to rest as instructed. He was as keen as anyone to know what was in the briefcase, and so had decided to find out. He was in charge, after all, wasn't he? Told to take care of Jarvis? OK then. He'd been into the house once before, so he would get in again.\n\nHe had a low-level night vision infra-red torch and special night vision goggles, so he could see his way around quite well, and no-one else would see a thing. He waited until all the lights had gone out before he carefully picked the rather simple lock on the back door, and went into the kitchen. He rather hoped the briefcase would be downstairs somewhere – in the hall, perhaps. He would prefer not have to go into the bedroom, where Jarvis and his wife were asleep, although he was pretty sure he would not disturb them if he did. He'd been trained for this sort of thing, after all. He moved about the house like a ghost on Halloween, silently and methodically searching one room after another.\n\nThe briefcase was not in the hall as he had hoped, but he eventually found it in the study, leaning against the desk. He just prayed that the thing was not bugged or booby-trapped in any way, as he carefully picked the lock – not even a combination. One quick look inside was enough.\n\nHe locked the case again, and only for a moment wondered if he should take it with him, bearing in mind its contents, before he retraced his steps.\n\nOnce outside, he nodded to the two colleagues who were positioned nearby, walked to his car, and drove off. But not far. A few streets away, he stopped, and got on to the Section 11 Ops. Room.\n\n\"No, 'S' wasn't there. He wasn't at home either. He was at a meeting in the Cabinet Office.\"\n\nEventually, they managed to patch him through to the red phone in the Cabinet Secretary's office.\n\n\"Sorry to bother you Colonel,\" said 'Dusty'.\n\n\"Why aren't you at home, taking a break?\" demanded Clayton.\n\n\"Curiosity, really,\" he replied.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean I know what's in the briefcase Jarvis collected.\"\n\nClayton sat forward in his chair.\n\n\"How the hell can you possibly know that, Miller?\"\n\n\"Because I've just had a look inside, that's how.\"\n\n\"You've done what!\"\n\n\"I've broken in to Jarvis's house before, just for a quick look round one evening, so I went in again tonight. No security at all, Colonel. For a chap in his position, he should be more careful. You should warn him.\"\n\n\"Get to the point, man. What's in that case?\"\n\n\"A very sophisticated Kalashnikov. Not many about. High powered, silencer, telescopic sight, the lot. And a couple of clips of ammo. Purpose built case. Very nice, Colonel.\"\n\n\"What did you do with it?\"\n\n\"Left it where it was, Colonel. Although I was very tempted to nick it. But I thought it would cause more problems than it solved.\"\n\n\"You're probably right,\" agreed Clayton after a moment's thought. \"And I do wish you'd stop calling me 'Colonel'.\"\n\n\"OK, sir. But if you want the briefcase, Colonel, I can easily go back for it, now I know where it is.\"\n\n\"No, no. Leave it. But you need to be very careful, you know Miller. We have no special warrant or anything like that, so if you get caught breaking and entering, there's very little we shall be able do about it.\"\n\n\"Rule 3, Colonel.\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"Never get caught.\"\n\n\"Don't be cheeky, Miller. But you've done well, so now go and get some rest.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Colonel. I think I'll doss down in the car. I'm back on duty in a couple of hours.\"\n\nClayton told Algar what had happened.\n\n\"So now we know that Jarvis has a high-powered rifle, but we can still only guess that Barclay is the target.\"\n\n\"I now think we should tell the Professor, and get him to a place of safety,\" said Algar.\n\n\"He's already in one,\" replied Clayton. \"Jarvis will never get into Harwell.\"\n\n\"But he could have a crack at Barclay outside the wire, so to speak.\"\n\n'S' thought for a moment.\n\n\"You could be right. On the other hand, we could pull Jarvis in.\"\n\nNow it was the Cabinet Secretary's turn to ponder.\n\n\"Frankly, I'd rather leave Jarvis on the loose to find out what he does next. He's now an obvious danger, and unfit for further employment in the Security Services, but I need more evidence to get rid of him.\"\n\n\"And I need to get back to the office, if you'll excuse me,\" said Clayton. \"I'll think about what you said, and consult with a few colleagues. I'll let you know what we recommend, and keep you in touch with developments.\"\n\nAlthough it was gone midnight, he summonsed Nick, Barbara, Clive Newell, and Phil Langdon, the retired Petty Officer who ran their armoury.\n\n\"We need to do a bit of quick planning for tomorrow – or today, as it now is,\" he told them when they were all assembled in the briefing room. \"We know that Jarvis now has a gun, and we assume Barclay is his target. We also think Jarvis will make his move sometime later today. The debate is whether or not we get Barclay to a safer place than Harwell, or whether we pull in Jarvis before he acts, or whether we let events run their course. If we do that, we shall need to keep well ahead of the game. I've already arranged to double up the watch on Barclay with immediate effect, and we should do the same in relation to Jarvis. How good a shot is Jarvis?\" he asked Langdon.\n\n\"Excellent. Nearly as good as I am.\"\n\n\"Why would he want a rifle with a silencer and telescopic sight?\"\n\n\"What sort of rifle, do we know?\"\n\n\"Some sort of Kalashnikov, according to Miller. Says there aren't many about.\"\n\n\"I know the one he means. It's a sniper's rifle, accurate from long range.\"\n\n\"That seems to suggest that he knows he won't get close to Barclay, so where would be the best place for him to be to stand any chance of getting the man?\"\n\n\"His routine is pretty much the same every day,\" said Newell, who was running Op. Fusion. \"We know from his diary that he will be in Harwell all day. He will leave his digs at about 7.30 am, drive in his car to work, and stay there until he decides to go home. That's a movable feast, as we know to our cost – anything from 4.30 pm to 11.30 pm, or even later occasionally. He works very long hours, but somewhere around 6.30 pm is more common.\"\n\n\"What about his drive to and from work?\" asked Nick Marsden.\n\n\"It takes him about fifteen minutes, no more,\" replied Newell. \"Mostly through open countryside, once he leaves the village.\"\n\n\"The indications are that Jarvis will strike in the evening, rather than early on. That means it will probably be dark.\"\n\n\"If you ask me,\" said Langdon, \"the silencer suggests that he will be using the weapon from inside a building, rather from open countryside. He probably won't risk a shot while Barclay is too close to the Atomic Energy Establishment, so he may intend to wait until he's got home.\"\n\nClayton thought for a moment.\n\n\"Here's what I propose then. Starting with Jarvis, work out his most likely route to both Barclay's digs and to Harwell, and stake it out, so that when he leaves home, we get regular reports on where he is and which way he is heading. We need concentrated effort in both areas, so that we know where Jarvis eventually goes. I'll get Barclay's Director to make sure the Professor stays at work until as late as possible. That will give us plenty of time to move in on Jarvis and catch him red-handed with the gun, in a position to shoot and kill Barclay if that's what he plans. Once Jarvis is under arrest, we'll remove Barclay to a place of safety, since the Russians will still want him out of the way, and will try something else once they know Jarvis has failed. Any problems with that?\"\n\nThey all agreed.\n\n\"Let's get things organised then,\" concluded Clayton. \"Nick, I want Miller to follow Jarvis from his house to our first rendezvous along the route. If he deviates from the route we think he will take, Miller can keep after him, and report in. Let's go.\"\n\nThe rest of the night was spent setting up the operation for later that day. As Miller was already out keeping an eye on Jarvis, Clayton briefed him on the secure mobile phone.\n\n\"Let us know the minute Jarvis leaves home,\" instructed Clayton. \"We think he'll make for Reading and then the A417, so you can start thinking about how he might get to Reading from there. Our guess is that he'll probably leave after lunch, to give himself time to get into position before Barclay leaves Harwell. Once you've made contact with our first relay team, peel off and get home for some well-earned rest.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Colonel.\"\n\nClayton turned to Barbara.\n\n\"I _do_ wish he'd stop calling me Colonel!\"\n\n***\n\nProfessor Jack Barclay was sublimely oblivious to all that was happening on his behalf. In fact, if you'd asked him, he probably wouldn't have been able to tell you what day it was. His mind had been on other things, and for the first time in many months, he actually felt reasonably happy with the way things had been going. And things had been going well – very well.\n\nUnder his supervision, his technical support team at the Rutherford Appleton Laboratory at Harwell, in Oxford, had achieved a major breakthrough in the development of nuclear fusion. Not only had they been able to show that the laser containment of hydrogen plasma was far more efficient than the electro-magnetic system which had been used for years at Culham, but they had also managed to achieve a net energy gain through the fusion of the deuteron and triton hydrogen isotopes.\n\nOnly yesterday, a self-sustaining reaction had been achieved which had generated enough heat to produce over 500 megawatts of fusion power, sufficient to prove without doubt that a commercial nuclear fusion power station was now feasible and achievable. This was a remarkable breakthrough; an achievement that, a few weeks earlier, had appeared impossible until Barclay himself had proposed a solution to the seemingly intractable problem which they had encountered during their research.\n\nBarclay was not only elated, but drained to the point of near exhaustion. He knew that what they had achieved would need to be repeated, again and again, before it could be regarded as genuine progress. He began to wonder if he had the stamina to see this through to its conclusion, but there was no option other than to proceed. His Director had been hugely supportive, but at the same time was being very cautious.\n\n\"Whatever you do, Jack,\" he had said, \"make sure word of this does not get out. We need to be quite certain that this is the breakthrough we believe it to be before anyone outside this establishment learns of it. You have probably put this country at the very forefront of experimental and practical work in this field, and we must be sure we stay there.\"\n\nAs his team prepared to run the trials again, and again and again, Professor Jack Barclay had time to reflect on his own position. Subject to further trials and tests producing the same results, he had actually achieved all that he had set out to do all those years ago. But somehow, instead of feeling elated, he felt almost depressed.\n\nHe began to wonder what there was to do next. Perhaps he should turn his hand to some new area of research in the field of particle physics, and quit this project while he was ahead. He had been thinking about it for some time, actually, especially when things had started to get on top of him. In fact, he thought he knew where he would like to go, if ever it could be arranged. It was overseas, too.\n\n***\n\n'Dusty' Miller was knackered, as well. No doubt about it. He was quite used to facing the extremes of fatigue and tiredness, and had been trained to withstand the physical and mental pressures which sleep deprivation under difficult conditions could bring. He was, he admitted, surprised at his present state. He had somehow never expected to experience it in London, of all places. The jungles of Indonesia or the deserts of Iraq – perhaps. But the back streets of West London – never.\n\nYet, there it was. He was knackered, and not finished yet, either. It was his job to wait for Jarvis to leave his home, and to follow him as he headed westward towards Oxford. Somewhere en route, Miller would meet up with colleagues who would then continue shadowing Jarvis until he finally arrived at the place from where he hoped to have a clear shot at Professor Barclay.\n\nJarvis finally left his house just before 2.0pm, complete with the briefcase. He looked, and felt, distinctly ill. He did not seem to be in any great hurry as he started his car, and headed off up the road.\n\nMiller reported that Jarvis was 'on the move'. He pulled out of the side turning, and followed at a discrete distance on his motorbike. It was not long, however, before 'Dusty' Miller became concerned and confused. Jarvis was not going the way they had thought.\n\nLike others in Section 11 who used the pool of bikes, Miller had a 'hard hat' with a built-in mobile phone. He activated it using the hidden keypad on the bike's fuel tank, and called the Ops. Room.\n\n\"Jarvis is not, repeat 'not' heading west,\" he told them. \"He started off going east and has now turned south, heading for central London.\"\n\nClayton and Marsden were immediately alerted.\n\n\"Where the hell can he be going?\"\n\nMiller was instructed to discretely keep on his tail at all costs, and to keep the line open.\n\n\"Tell Gladys to look out for a summons for the congestion charge,\" he replied. \"It looks as if I'll be going straight through the middle, and I don't propose to stop at a newsagents to buy a ticket.\"\n\n\"Traffic's getting very heavy,\" reported Miller a bit later. \"Are you monitoring the tracking device I fitted?\"\n\nThey were.\n\n\"Driving down Kilburn High Road,\" reported Miller. \"Still heading south.\"\n\n\"Edgware Road, heading for Marble Arch.\"\n\n\"This traffic's awful,\" complained Miller. \"He's got ahead of me at traffic lights – jumped the red.\"\n\nClayton and Marsden were totally confused, and quite unable to work out where Jarvis might be going. They had large scale maps of London spread out all over the Ops Room, and it began to look increasingly as if Barclay was not Jarvis's target after all.\n\n\"I've lost him!\" shouted Miller. \"I think he went for Park Lane, still going south, but I can't be sure. He's twice nipped across red lights, but I dare not give chase – too risky and I'd be spotted. I'll do my best to catch up with him. I'll wind this thing up down Park Lane, and hope for the best.\"\n\nThere was a long silence from the man on the motorbike.\n\n\"Got him again,\" shouted Miller. \"Going like a bat out of hell down Buckingham Palace Road, towards the Embankment. He's a long way ahead of me though.\"\n\nMoments later – \"He's gone again. Saw him turn right along the Embankment towards Battersea, but he's out of view now.\"\n\n\"Battersea!\" shouted Clayton. \"Barclay's got a flat in Battersea somewhere!\"\n\nClayton was desperately searching his computer for the address.\n\n\"Here it is!\"\n\nHe got on the radio to Miller.\n\n\"Barclay's got a flat in Battersea – Albert Bridge Mansions. Get there!\"\n\n\"Yes Colonel!\"\n\nMiller got there as fast as he could through the late afternoon traffic, but never saw Jarvis's car again.\n\n\"I don't like this, Bill,\" said Nick Marsden.\n\n\"Neither do I.\"\n\n\"Why would Jarvis be going to Barclay's flat in London, when we know he's in Harwell.\"\n\n\"Perhaps the Russians don't know that.\"\n\n\"We're guessing again, Bill. I suppose Jarvis couldn't be on his way to Dulwich, could he?\"\n\n\"Barbara's place, d'you mean?\"\n\n\"He's heading that way.\"\n\n\"But why, on earth?\"\n\n\"Can't imagine. But I don't like the smell of this.\"\n\n\"Let's get someone down there, then, smartish.\"\n\n\"I'll go,\" said Marsden.\n\n\"I'd rather you stayed here, Nick running the Ops. Room. Send someone else if you like, but you stay here.\"\n\n\"OK,\" said Nick. \"But let's not tell Barbara.\"\n\n\"At least she's here and Donald's with Catherine.\"\n\n\"I'll get it organised, just in case.\"\n\nMiller found Albert Bridge Mansions all right, but there was no trace of Jarvis's car in the car park. He walked round the side roads, but found nothing. Eventually, he went into the building, and up to Barclay's flat. The door was firmly locked shut, and there was no sign of Jarvis, and not a sound coming from the flat.\n\nAs he left the flats twenty minutes or so later, he saw Jarvis hurrying away from a neighbouring block, carrying the briefcase. Miller managed to get a couple of quick photos using his mobile phone, and called the Ops. Room as Jarvis set off in his car heading back down the Embankment.\n\n\"Let Jarvis go,\" said Clayton, \"and see if you can find anything at Barclay's flat.\"\n\nMiller managed to pick the lock quite easily, and went inside quietly, closing the door behind him. He had taken the precaution of wearing latex gloves so as not to leave fingerprints. It was almost dark by now, but still light enough for Miller to see a prone figure sprawled on the kitchen floor, in an ever-increasing pool of blood. He took a couple of pictures, and left the way he had got in.\n\n\"I'm afraid your Professor Barclay is dead,\" he reported to Clayton.\n\n\"Not possible!\" exclaimed 'S'.\n\n\"I recognised the man,\" retorted Miller. \"I'll email the pictures I took right away.\"\n\n\"Do that,\" demanded Clayton, \"and then get back here.\"\n\n\"Yes Colonel.\"\n\nNick downloaded the photos.\n\n\"He's right, damn it! No doubt about it, Bill. That's Barclay all right. Take a look.\"\n\n\"How the devil could Barclay get away from Harwell without us seeing him?\"\n\n\"I'll check with the team over there, and see what they have to say.\"\n\n\"I tell you what!\" exclaimed Clayton. \"I'll bet Barclay is still at Harwell after all. The man in the Battersea flat is probably his twin brother.\"\n\n\"Dammit, I'd quite forgotten he had a twin!\"\n\n\"Identical, apparently. The Russians have cocked-up, big time!\"\n\nAfter a couple of quick calls, Nick confirmed that Barclay was still at the laboratory, at a meeting with the Director.\n\n\"Now let's think this through,\" said Clayton. \"Unless we can convince the Russians that they've got their man, the Professor is still very much in danger. But if we let Jack Barclay carry on as usual, they will soon find out, and have another go at him.\"\n\n\"What are you suggesting?\" asked Marsden.\n\n\"I'm not quite sure myself, yet. But we need to talk to our Barclay, and quickly.\"\n\n\"And secretly.\"\n\n\"That means going to Harwell, in case he's spotted leaving the place. Unless we get him brought here in a van, or something.\"\n\n\"Let's do that.\"\n\n\"I'll get on to Robin Algar immediately,\" said Clayton grabbing the red phone.\n\nMiller walked in.\n\n\"Sorry about the Professor, Colonel,\" he said. \"All my fault, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"Nothing's your fault, Miller. We think the man you saw could be Barclay's twin brother. It's the Russians who have screwed things up, not you.\"\n\n\"Time you took a break,\" said Marsden. \"Before you disappear, get on to your chums and make sure we are told the minute Jarvis gets home. And I want to know if he's still got the briefcase.\"\n\n\"Aye, aye, Commander.\"\n\n\"Don't be cheeky, Miller.\"\n\nClayton called Nick into his office.\n\n\"I'm going over to the Cabinet Office for a meeting with Sir Robin Algar. He agrees we should pull in Barclay quickly and quietly, and he's arranging for the Yard to collect him. By the time he gets to Algar's office, we shall have agreed a strategy, I hope. Do you mind staying here?\"\n\n\"Not at all. We've got bodies scattered all over the place, so I shall recall them.\"\n\n\"By the way, I think we need to keep an eye on Jarvis, still. At least until he gets rid of that gun.\"\n\n\"Agreed. I'll get Miller out there again in the morning, but there are other chaps out there now, anyway.\"\n\nClayton decided to go by bus and underground to Westminster. It gave him time to think.\n\n\"Barclay should be here within an hour,\" announced the Cabinet Secretary as Clayton was shown into his office. \"Scotland Yard have arranged to collect him in an unmarked car, so with any luck no-one will notice, even if he is being watched.\"\n\nClayton's mobile phone rang. He listened for a moment, and then said, \"I know about it.\"\n\nHe turned to Algar.\n\n\"My people noticed,\" he said, \"and they are at this moment in hot pursuit of the police car!\"\n\n\"That's a pretty smart outfit you run, Bill, and no mistake.\"\n\n\"There are some pretty smart people in it, that's what counts.\"\n\nClayton rang Marsden at the office.\n\n\"While you're recalling our deployed troops,\" he said, \"there are a couple of our blokes somewhere between Didcot and London, chasing an un-marked police car. Call them off, if you would – the car's bringing Barclay here, but they obviously think Barclay's been taken by the opposition.\"\n\n\"I'll do that, before there's an accident!\"\n\n\"Any news from Miller?\"\n\n\"Yes; he's just rung in to say that Jarvis has arrived home, complete with briefcase.\"\n\nHead of Section 11 and the Cabinet Secretary at last got down to discussing what to do next.\n\n\"My guess is,\" said Clayton, \"that Jarvis will be summoned to another meeting with our Russian friend, to get rid of the weapon. They're not going to want him wandering around with that for long. Unless, of course, they discover that Jarvis has killed the wrong man, and task him to have another go.\"\n\n\"Somehow, we have to convince the Russians that their mission was a success,\" said Algar. \"Otherwise, Barclay will be in even greater mortal danger, especially if they discover that his research work is at last proving to be something of a scientific triumph.\"\n\n\"What do you suggest?\"\n\n\"We could perhaps use our newly defected KGB man to spread the word.\"\n\n\"No. There's only one way the threat to Barclay will be removed, and that is to convince the Russians that he really is dead. Then they'll give up, but not unless or until.\"\n\nSir Robin Algar frowned.\n\n\"What ever are you suggesting now.\"\n\nClayton outlined his audacious plan, to an increasingly incredulous Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee.\n\n\"You know,\" he said eventually, \"that could just work.\"\n\n\"But only if we get the total agreement and co-operation of Barclay himself.\"\n\n\"We simply must. After all, it's for his own good as well as being of immense long-term benefit to this country.\"\n\n\"You will have to use every diplomatic skill at your disposal, Sir Robin.\"\n\n\"We might just do it between us. After all, the man has very few options.\"\n\n\"Neither have we,\" said Clayton. \"There's no plan 'B' that I can think of.\"\n\nThe red secure phone rang. Algar answered it, and passed it to Clayton. \"It's for you. I might have guessed!\"\n\nClayton listened for a moment. \"Get Miller on to it. I want photos of the switch, and both men. Tell him to use the mobile phone camera, from outside. Let Jarvis go – we can pick him up when we want to.\"\n\nHe hung up. \"Jarvis has been told to meet our Russian friend tomorrow morning to hand back the briefcase. St. James' coffee bar in Piccadilly. With a few pictures, we'll have all the evidence we need to get rid of Jarvis.\"\n\n\"He can rot in jail,\" said Algar.\n\n\"No he can't,\" said Clayton. \"If we get the police on to him, he'll blow Section 11 clear out of the water. He'll have to be handled very carefully, I'm afraid _._ \"\n\nThe Cabinet Secretary's intercom rang.\n\n\"Professor Barclay is here to see you, Sir Robin.\"\n\n\"Good. Show him in. And bring the drinks tray.\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER ELEVEN \\- DYING TO LIVE\n\nProfessor Jack Barclay looked very tired when he was shown in to the Cabinet Secretary's office. He was a short man, not very smartly dressed, and with long, rather unkempt hair. He looked what he was – a scientist, who had better things to do than look after himself.\n\nAs well as being tired, he was also very puzzled, and not a little worried. He could not work out why he had suddenly been whisked away from his laboratory in such secrecy, and brought to the very centre of Government at break-neck speed. He lost no time in saying so.\n\nSir Robin Algar did his best to put the man at his ease, having introduced him to Colonel Bill Clayton, and offered him a drink.\n\n\"I can quite understand how you must feel, Professor, and I can assure you that we would not have brought you here late in the evening after such a busy day if we hadn't concluded that it was not only absolutely essential, but because it is also, we judge, to be in your own best interests.\n\n\"First of all, though, I must congratulate you wholeheartedly on your recent successes. You will know that I am no scientist, but I am told that what you have achieved is of the utmost significance and importance to the future development of sustainable nuclear fusion as an energy source, and is therefore of inestimable value to this country.\"\n\n\"That's kind of you,\" replied Jack Barclay, taking a sip from his large tumbler of whisky. \"I take it my Director must have told you, as very few people outside my immediate team know of - well, our triumph if I may be bold enough to say so. I must confess to being absolutely euphoric at what has been achieved, although I could never claim to have been solely responsible. I have an excellent team working with me. Nevertheless, it is personally very satisfying to have achieved something that I have been working towards all these years. I feel both extremely excited and extremely tired,\" he added, \"so this is most welcome, and really my first chance of anything like a celebratory drink.\" He raised his glass. \"I am quite sure, though, that you didn't bring me all this way just to give me a glass of Scotch.\"\n\n\"I have arranged for some coffee and sandwiches a little later, but you are right, of course,\" said Algar. \"There is a far more serious subject we need to discuss with you, and I can assure you that if we could have done so over the phone, then we would not have troubled you with such a journey this evening.\"\n\n\"I have never travelled so fast in my life,\" said Barclay with a grin. \"The driver, I believe, was a policeman?\"\n\n\"Yes he was, but you are by no means under arrest! Let me ask Colonel Clayton to explain. But I must tell you first that he is in charge of one of this country's most secret organisations, which you will not have heard of before.\"\n\n\"I am sorry to tell you, Professor,\" said 'S', \"that your work, and in particular your recent success, has placed you in grave personal danger. It may surprise you to know that my organisation has kept you under very close supervision and protection for several months now.\"\n\n\"Supervision?\" said Barclay disbelievingly. He took another sip of his drink. \"What exactly do you mean by supervision?\"\n\n\"I mean that one or more of my people has been with you every hour of the day and night, whether you have been at home, in the laboratory or abroad.\"\n\n\"I find that quite impossible to believe,\" protested the Professor. \"I have seen or noticed no-one unknown to me – not at all, anywhere. And protection from what, may I ask?\"\n\n\"From my point of view, it's excellent news that you spotted nothing out of the ordinary. We are specially trained to be, if you like, invisible, by blending seamlessly into the background. Our task is to protect those UK citizens such as yourself who we know to be at risk in some way, but whose value to the nation is such that we wish them to continue their work unharmed. It is your success that has put you at such risk.\"\n\n\"Why on earth wasn't I told?\" demanded Barclay.\n\n\"We judged,\" replied Sir Robin, \"that you were already under such stress with your demanding work and the problems you were seeking to overcome, not to mention the other demands being made on your time both at home and abroad, that to warn you of your imminent danger would have added an unbearable additional strain.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I could chip in and explain,\" said Clayton, \"that apart from being Cabinet Secretary and Head of the Civil Service, Sir Robin here is also Chairman of the Joint Intelligent Committee. I report directly to him, and to nobody else. This may help to assure you that we know what we are talking about, and that the threat to your safety was, and continues to be I fear, immediate and very real.\"\n\n\"We initially chose not to tell you before, as I have explained,\" said Algar, \"but recent events have persuaded us that you should now be told, and told immediately.\"\n\n\"What recent events? And how recent?\"\n\n\"Earlier this afternoon.\"\n\n\"What happened this afternoon, then?\" demanded Barclay.\n\n\"Before I tell you that, let me first of all give you some background,\" said Clayton. He took a sip from his own glass, and topped up Barclay's.\n\n\"You will know better than we do that your pioneering work has caused worldwide interest, particularly in America where they have been trying to tempt you into working with them at the Lawrence Livermore University, and similarly in the Gulf region. It is not our business to prevent you from following either option if you should so decide – in this country, you are free to choose.\"\n\n\"Although we would prefer that you stayed here, of course,\" added Algar.\n\n\"There are two players in this drama that you are aware of, Professor,\" continued Clayton. \"The United Arab Emirates want you to take the lead in helping them to develop nuclear fusion so that they have a source of wealth once their stocks of natural gas and oil run out. The Americans, on the other hand, are already developing such an energy source as I understand it, but want to tap into your mathematical genius in order to progress that development faster than they otherwise might. Their reason is simply that they need to reduce their dependence on energy supplies from the Middle East. Indeed, in the recent Presidential election campaign, they pledged to rid themselves of that dependence within ten years.\"\n\nSir Robin Algar leant forward. \"There is, however, a third power involved.\" He paused, for effect. \"Russia,\" he continued. \"And it is from them that the threat to you personally emanates.\"\n\n\"I have never heard of any direct interest being taken in my work by them,\" said Barclay.\n\n\"That is because they are not interested in you working with them in any way,\" said Clayton. \"They want your work stopped.\"\n\n\"Stopped? But why?\"\n\n\"Simply because they have huge stocks of oil and gas, which they are able to export to many countries around the world,\" explained Sir Robin. \"This gives them considerable political and economic power, and you will know that they have in the recent past used their gas and oil supply lines as a political weapon. They simply turn off the tap to get their own way on the international stage, as they did recently in the Ukraine.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So your work in developing an alternative energy source was seen as a threat to that power base. For that reason, they are not interested in speeding up the work you are doing, but in delaying by as much as possible the commercial introduction of nuclear fusion as an energy source. And they have concluded that the only way that can be achieved is by bringing a halt to your development work.\"\n\nThere was a gentle knock on the door. The coffee and sandwiches were delivered, and placed on the table in front of them.\n\n\"I can tell you,\" said Algar, waving his hand to invite his colleagues to help themselves, \"that our intelligence sources know for a fact they have considered all means of achieving that, either through some form of sabotage at Culham and Harwell, or even by kidnapping you. In the end, however, they concluded that the only solution to their problem was to be achieved through your assassination.\"\n\n\"Assassination?\" Barclay was incredulous.\n\n\"I am afraid so,\" confirmed Clayton.\n\n\"I am finding all this very difficult to believe,\" said Jack Barclay.\n\n\"We are, I fear, deadly serious. Your life is in the gravest possible danger.\"\n\n\"But how can you be so sure?\" Barclay put down his untouched sandwiches.\n\n\"Let me just give you one example,\" offered Clayton. \"I told you that you have been under our protective umbrella for some months now. That includes both at Culham and Harwell, where members of my organisation have been employed as cleaners and on the catering staff so that we could watch over you while you were in the laboratories, while others were also on constant watch outside, on motorcycles, in vans, cars, whatever, both there and while you were at home or travelling between the two. My field officers, I should tell you, are all armed and expert marksmen, and they are all fluent in at least two languages apart from their native tongue. They were with you in France, at Cadarache, and while you were in California. My agents attended the reception that was held in your honour at the end of your last US visit – we have photographs if you wish to see them – and while they were there they recognised and spoke to US agents from the CIA who were also among the guests. In addition, and to the surprise even of the American authorities, there were two members of the Russian secret service, the KGB, in attendance. Such was the warmth of your reception by the people at the Lawrence Livermore facilities, that the Russians were convinced afterwards that you had agreed to work with the Americans. From the Russian point of view, this was the worst possible scenario, and it was immediately after that, that they decided that you should be assassinated so as to put an end to your work.\"\n\n\"By then it was too late,\" exclaimed the Professor. \"We had already made the breakthrough we had been seeking .\"\n\n\"The Russians didn't know that, and pressed ahead with their plan.\"\n\n\"And you knew what their plan was?\"\n\n\"Yes, we did,\" said 'S'.\n\n\"So why are you telling me all this now?\"\n\n\"Well, the real reason for your visit is that we must now tell you what happened this afternoon,\" said Sir Robin. \"Now you know the background, we hope you will understand that we have taken the Russian threat extremely seriously, and that we continue to do so. You need to realise how grave a danger you are in, Professor, and I can't emphasise that enough. Your life is at real and immediate risk. We called you here today because, as we said just now, events of this afternoon meant that we can no longer act on our own on your behalf. We now need your help and co-operation if you are to survive the Russian threat.\"\n\n\"This all sounds appalling,\" said Barclay quietly, \"and I find what you have told me quite impossible to comprehend. I am not used to this sort of thing, you must understand. Difficult though my life has been in recent months, it has been problems in my own field of work which have caused those difficulties, and therefore I could understand them. But this – all this is so different and foreign to me. I find it impossible to comprehend that I am the subject of attention by the highest levels of Government in this country, by spies, and by foreign countries.\"\n\nHe put down his coffee cup on the table around which they sat in Algar's office, and reached for his glass. The glass was empty.\n\n\"May I please?\" he asked , holding it out.\n\nThe Cabinet Secretary poured him another.\n\n\"So what happened this afternoon to make my visit here so urgent,\" asked Barclay.\n\n\"I know that what we have told you so far has been deeply disturbing for you, Professor,\" said Clayton, \"but I am afraid we have to give you further bad news as well. We learnt yesterday that an attempt was to made on your life today – this afternoon, in fact. We knew the identity of the killer, and took immediate precautions to reinforce our protection of you at Harwell. We had deployed armed men along the route we thought the assassin would take to get there, and were ready to arrest him the moment he got anywhere near you. However, he took us all by surprise, when, instead of heading west towards Didcot, he headed east and then south. We could not understand this at all, and although one of our top men set off in hot pursuit, he lost the man temporarily in heavy traffic in central London. I won't beat about the bush, Professor. Your assailant went to Battersea, obviously believing you were in your flat.\"\n\n\"My brother!\" exclaimed Barclay.\n\n\"Exactly,\" confirmed Sir Robin. \"I'm sorry to have to say that your brother was shot and killed before we could reach him.\"\n\n\"My twin brother, Roger,\" said the distressed Professor.\n\nThe men left Barclay in silence for a few moments, to come to terms with the news.\n\nEventually, he said quietly, \"Now I think I have some explaining to do, gentlemen.\"\n\n\"When you feel ready,\" said Algar.\n\nBarclay took a gulp from his glass.\n\n\"Roger and I have never been close, and indeed rarely contacted one another. The last time we spoke, he told me that the bank where he had worked since he left school, as a junior clerk of some sort I believe, had told him that they wanted him to move to a different branch, or face the sack. Roger hated change, and dreaded the thought either of being fired or moving to the Sloane Square branch where he would know nobody and have nowhere to live. I offered him my flat, which I used so rarely that I had already decided to sell it. He was due to move in sometime in the next week or so, and was there today for a look round to see if it suited him. I haven't even moved my stuff out of the place yet, although there's little enough of it there. We are identical twins, and he must have been spotted there by your Russian friends. Now he is dead, and it's my fault.\"\n\n\"Nonsense! You must certainly not blame yourself in the least for your brother's death,\" insisted Clayton. \"If anyone could be said to be at fault it is us.\"\n\n\"I won't hear of that, either,\" protested Barclay. \"You have saved my life through all your recent and secret efforts, and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude for that. If anything, I suppose, it is a case of mistaken identity on the part of the Russian authorities. But tell me. Where is my brother now.\"\n\n\"Your brother remains in your flat, Professor,\" said Clayton. \"One of my men has managed to gain entry, and has seen him. He says your brother would have died instantly, and known nothing of it, which may be of some quantum of solace to you.\"\n\n\"Thank you for that, at least. I suppose now I shall have to make arrangements for his removal, and for the funeral and so on,\" sighed Barclay.\n\nClayton held up his hand.\n\n\"Before we discuss that, would you mind if we first told you in what way we now need your urgent help and support?\"\n\n\"After all you've done for me, the least I can do is to agree to that.\"\n\n\"First of all, we need positive identification that it is your brother who has been murdered,\" said Clayton. \"My agent took a couple of photographs, so perhaps when you are ready and feel up to it, you could look at them just to confirm that it is Roger.\"\n\n\"Show me now.\"\n\nClayton handed him the photographs, and Barclay nodded.\n\n\"Not a pretty sight, is it,\" he said. \"But there's no mistaking that it is my brother.\"\n\n\"At first my man was sure it was you, there is such a likeness. But thank you for confirming his identity.\"\n\n\"We must now touch upon our need for your help,\" said the Cabinet Secretary. \"At this point in time, the Russians believe that you have been killed. Until they discover that you are still alive, therefore, you are no longer in any danger. Actually, it would have been more to the point if I had said ' _Unless_ they discover you are still alive.' Your future safety depends entirely on them continuing to believe that their hired assassin has been successful, and that you will no longer be able to carry out further research into nuclear fusion. In other words, to put it bluntly, you will only be safe if you are officially pronounced dead, and the Russians believe you are dead.\"\n\nProfessor Barclay looked ashen; the added strain was beginning to take its toll. He shook his head. \"I am finding it difficult to take all this in,\" he said.\n\nAlgar leant forward.\n\n\"Understandably, professor, you look very tired and distressed, so let me suggest we continue this discussion tomorrow after you have had some rest.\"\n\n\"But where would I go?\" he asked. \"Surely not back to my digs. I would be spotted and killed!\"\n\n\"Precisely the point I was about to make,\" said Clayton. \"You are now in a place of safety, and arrangements have been made for you to stay here tonight if you wish. I should say that to do otherwise would, as you guessed, expose you to immediate risk.\"\n\n\"This is the very heart of Government,\" added Sir Robin. \"From here, all contingency planning is done, and disasters and wars dealt with. This is the home of the Cabinet Office Briefing Rooms – room 'A' is popularly know in the media as COBRA. This is the centre of national and international crisis management, and we have several Emergency Rooms for dealing with these issues, with every form of top security modern communications, video conferencing facilities and so on. With these exceptional facilities available to us, we also have adequate facilities for the staff who man these emergency centres. For instance, I have a fully furnished flat here, and you are more than welcome to stay in it. It is by no means luxurious, but it has all the basic essentials like a shower, a bed, cooking facilities and so on. Everything will be provided for you by my staff – I have already arranged for a cold supper to be available if you should agree to stay.\"\n\n\"This is terribly kind of you, but then what? No doubt I shall be given an excellent breakfast tomorrow, but what happens to me after that?\"\n\n\"We can continue to provide you with a place of safety, although not here necessarily, for as long as is necessary. But that will mean that, for the time being at least, you must avoid your present haunts – your digs, your laboratories, everything. To be blunt, you will have to take on a fresh identity, if we are to ensure that the threat to you is completely removed. You will have to disappear from circulation totally for the time being, while a new identity is established for you. Professor Jack Barclay will have been murdered, never to be seen again.\"\n\n\"Keep talking,\" said Barclay. \"Exhausted and confused though I am, I want to hear all you have to say, to its conclusion.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" said Algar. \"Let me summarise, then, without any further beating about the bush. If you agree, we will let it be known that your brother was in fact yourself, and that Professor Jack Barclay has been murdered in his Battersea flat. We will take you to a place of safety, probably in the Cotswolds, where you will be given a completely new identity. That means a new name and personality, new looks, new papers, and in the end, a new life. Once that process is complete, you will be free to take up your life again, wherever you wish, in complete safety, providing that your adversaries are by then convinced that you have been killed.\"\n\nBarclay sat in silence as he digested what was being suggested.\n\n\"And my brother?\"\n\n\"We shall need to leave your brother where he is for the time being, until the police discover his body during the normal course of events. We cannot afford to tell them of his death, as that would put this whole operation at risk of failure. Once he is discovered, of course, the police will mount a full murder investigation, there will be a coroner's inquest, and a full and dignified funeral. Should your transformation be complete by then, you will of course be able decide where and when you wish the funeral to take place, and to attend.\"\n\n\"I shall read my own obituary and attend my own funeral, you mean?\"\n\n\"That will be the effect, yes.\"\n\n\"I should say,\" added Clayton, \"that if you should wish to visit your brother while he is in your flat, we can arrange that, although it will not be without risk. We can assure you however, that whatever you decide, your brother will be treated with the utmost dignity and respect.\"\n\nBarclay sat back in his chair, deep in thought.\n\n\"It is odd, you know,\" he said eventually, \"that I have been wondering for some time what I might do if and when my work at the Rutherford Appleton Laboratory came to its natural conclusion. I think it now has. There is much development work still to be done, of course, but mostly of a technical nature, putting into effect the theories which we have recently demonstrated to be practical. Interesting though it would be to see this through to a commercial conclusion, I can see little further pure science which I need to work on in this field. There is however, another area of research in which I have always aspired to contribute, also in the field of particle physics. Gentlemen, you may just have offered me the chance to start a new career, so to speak.\"\n\nHe smiled.\n\n\"Tell me more though about my reincarnation. Where shall I go and what will happen?\"\n\n\"We have several 'safe houses' as we call them, in remote areas of the country, and we would propose that you live temporarily in one of them, in the Cotswolds,\" said Algar. \"Buscot Park lies between Swindon and Burford, near Lechlade. It is the home of Lord Faringdon, who lives there with his family, although the property is now owned and managed by the National Trust. Part of it, however, is run by MI5, for various purposes including training. I can tell you that you will be very comfortable there, with your own apartment, and that you will be free to wander in the extensive grounds as you wish.\"\n\n\"While you are there,\" Clayton explained, \"we will provide you with a completely new identity. One of my team is a retired RAF Air Commodore who ran the Institute of Aviation Medicine for some years, and is an expert in the field of plastic surgery. You will recall that this was pioneered by the RAF during the war.\"\n\n\"I hope I'm not to be carved about,\" said Barclay, alarmed.\n\n\"Certainly not – nothing will be done without your full agreement. But I suggest that it may be possible to rid you of that ugly scar across your forehead which immediately identifies you to those who know you. There are other things that can be done without surgery – raising the cheekbones, flaring the nose, changing your hairline and so on – all of which will adequately disguise you. A neatly trimmed set of whiskers would suit you, and a pair of spectacles is always a good idea. We can also make you a bit taller, by giving you slightly built-up shoes, and you can be taught to limp quite convincingly and use a walking stick. Once that process is complete, you will be given a new name, new papers, a new wardrobe and so on. In the end, you will be able safely to attend your brother's funeral, visit your flat and your old laboratory to clear them both of your possessions, and nobody, hopefully, will recognise you, not least because they will think you are dead. Once that test has been passed, you will be free to rebuild your life however and wherever you wish.\"\n\n\"How long will all this take?\"\n\n\"Probably weeks rather than months,\" replied Clayton. \"Much will depend on how long it takes for the police to discover your brother, although their investigation will not make much progress until he – you – is positively identified. There will probably still be sufficient likeness for you to be able to pass as, say, a cousin, so up to a point the identification process will be in our hands, and you will not be exposed to the public gaze until we all judge that you are ready.\"\n\n\"The decision as to whether we proceed with all this is entirely yours, of course,\" added Algar.\n\n\"I am inclined to agree now,\" replied Barclay, \"but perhaps I should sleep on it first, to be sure.\"\n\n\"If you have any further questions, I can be here tomorrow to deal with them if you wish,\" offered Clayton.\n\n\"I shall be around as well,\" said Algar, \"although there is a Cabinet meeting in the morning, and one or two other things I must attend to, but otherwise I, too, shall be at your disposal.\"\n\n\"Thank you both. I think I'll turn in now, though, if you don't mind. It's been quite a day.\"\n\n\"My Secretary will show you to your temporary accommodation,\" said Sir Robin. \"It's not far, although quite a way down, if you see what I mean, in the Whitehall bunker. You only have to say if there's the slightest thing you want. Supper will be there when you get there, and there is wine in the fridge – please help yourself to whatever you want.\"\n\n\"You have both been most kind and considerate,\" said a grateful Professor Barclay, \"not least in preventing my untimely death at the hands of the Russians.\"\n\n\"If you should decide to proceed as we recommend,\" said 'S', \"I will arrange for you to meet with the Air Commodore tomorrow for a preliminary chat. His name is Mark Perkins, by the way, but he answers to 'Doc'! We can then arrange for you to be moved, probably by helicopter, to the Cotswolds, so that your transformation can begin.\"\n\n\"We shall then have to let it be known among your peer group that you have disappeared,\" continued Algar. \"You will obviously be missed from your laboratory, but we shall suggest that you could well have suffered a nervous breakdown after the recent stress you have been working under. Indeed your Director has already let it be known that he was becoming concerned about your health.\"\n\n\"Somebody may have seen me leave in your Police car,\" suggested Barclay.\n\n\"We don't think so,\" said Algar. \"Your Director knows, and that only because you were at a meeting with him in his office. We arranged that, by the way.\"\n\n\"A couple of my agents saw you go, and actually gave chase for a short while until they were told, but they reported nothing else in the least suspicious.\"\n\n\"You seem to have thought of everything,\" said Barclay.\n\nHe pondered for a moment, and then smiled,\n\n\"I must say that I begin to feel like a new man already!\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER TWELVE \\- DEATH OF A KILLER\n\nDusty Miller was in something of a dilemma.\n\nHis instructions were clear enough - get photos of the switch, and both men. Use the mobile phone camera, from outside. Let Jarvis go - he can be picked up later. Or words to that effect. Sounded easy enough. The switch was to take place at St. James' coffee bar in Piccadilly, about eleven this morning, so they said.\n\nBut he was working on his own. Not that he minded that. It was just that he wasn't quite used to working in this urban environment. Belfast and Basra were one thing, but somehow London was different. And anyway, the last time they said where Jarvis was going, he went off in exactly the opposite direction. Suppose they were wrong this time, too? The only way to be sure would be to follow Jarvis from his home, but if he did that, Miller couldn't be at St. James' coffee bar before Jarvis got there. Jarvis was sure to go by Underground, but there was no way Miller could watch him get on the train, and then get on the one ahead of him, to arrive first.\n\nNo way.\n\nThe nearest station was Green Park. Leave by the Piccadilly north side exit, turn left, and there was St. James' coffee bar. There were lots of places like that near there. Costa Coffee, Prêt a Mangé, and Starbucks. If you wanted real coffee, try the Ritz or Fortnum and Masons further on, but the Russians had picked St. James' for some reason. Only Americans and people who didn't care about coffee went there. That obviously included Russians. It was a sort of upper-class greasy spoon, Miller said later.\n\nMiller's problem, though, wasn't about whether he would like the coffee when he got there – he knew he wouldn't – but how he was to get there before Jarvis.\n\nSo he rang Clayton.\n\n\"'Morning, Colonel.\"\n\n\"'Morning, Miller.\"\n\n\"How did you know it was me, Colonel?\"\n\n\"Never mind, Miller. What's your problem?\"\n\n\"I just wanted to be sure that Jarvis wasn't really important this morning,\" he said, \"and that you were more interested in the handover, and who takes the briefcase from him.\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"In that case, I need to get to the RV before Jarvis, rather than follow him to it. So I wanted to be sure it was still the Piccadilly St. James' coffee bar at 1100 hours.\"\n\n\"Right again.\"\n\n\"In that case, I'll slip back to your place and swap my bike for one with all the despatch rider's kit. I can park that in Piccadilly without attracting too much attention.\"\n\n\"Get on with it then, Miller. Just get pictures of the switch, and leave Jarvis to me.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Colonel.\"\n\nSo Miller was there well before Jarvis arrived. He had left his replacement bike, complete with panniers and chattering radio with its loudspeaker between the handlebars, on the double yellow lines, almost outside the coffee shop, and was standing next to it pretending to be in earnest conversation with his despatch-rider control room. In fact he was taking photos of a very Russian-looking customer inside.\n\nMiller decided he would get better pictures without the reflections on the window, so went in for a take-away Cappuccino. He had rather expected the Russian to be the same chap that gave Jarvis the gun in St. James's Park, but it wasn't. They all seemed to look alike anyway, Russians, but Miller was sure this was a different bloke, sitting there with his coffee. Miller got a couple of good shots of the man, and went back outside with his cardboard mug. The cardboard added nothing to the taste of the coffee, either.\n\nIt wasn't long before he spotted Jarvis, complete with briefcase, walking towards him along the crowded pavement from the Underground station. Miller had removed his crash helmet to go into the coffee shop, but put it back on now – he needed both hands, and the built-in phone in case of an emergency.\n\n***\n\nJarvis had not been looking forward to this.\n\nYesterday had been an absolute nightmare, and he couldn't believe what he had done, or even, really, why he had done it. What an idiot he had been. At the time there hadn't seemed to be any other option open to him. In all honesty, there really wasn't one. He was being blackmailed, and that was that. He had given in, and now would have to live with the consequences for the rest of his life. His mind had been in absolute turmoil and he simply hadn't been able to think clearly.\n\nHe was pretty sure that the murder of Jack Barclay in his Battersea flat could not be traced back to him. Certainly not once he had got rid of the weapon and its wretched briefcase. He had taken exceptional care to leave no clues behind, had worn latex gloves, wiped the area clean so that no powder marks from the gun would be found, and so on. He had also taken special precautions to ensure that, first of all, he hadn't been followed to Battersea, and then that nobody had seen him enter or leave the flat across the car park from Barclay's block. His main concern now was that the Russians might attempt to use him again for some other job they wanted done, but once Donald was safe, they would have nothing on him. He had meant to phone Barbara last night to ask about the boy, but had been in such a state he had completely forgotten. He was sure she would have rung him quickly enough if Donald had not been returned safe and sound as promised. He would give her a ring later.\n\nAt least his wife knew nothing about it. She believed that, after a couple of 'sick' days off, he had been back at work. She knew the sort of work he did, and also knew better than to ask questions. He kept odd hours – always had – so it wasn't too unusual for him to leave home a bit later than normal this morning. He had walked to the station as usual, with his new briefcase, and she had no idea that he had gone to Green Park instead of Vauxhall.\n\nIt was a busy station, Green Park. Popular with tourists, and a major inter-change, but Jarvis had made his way to the Piccadilly north side exit, and turned left. He soon found St. James' coffee bar, and went up to the counter to order his coffee. Nothing fancy. Just a straight filter, please, black. Sugar was on the table, they said.\n\nHe found a seat, leant the briefcase against the chair, tipped a file of sugar into his mug and opened his newspaper. He knew it would be a different Russian embassy man – he had been given a coded message, which would have been unnecessary if it was to be the same fellow who had given him the briefcase in the park.\n\nAlmost at once, a man from a nearby table pushed his coffee to one side and walked across to where Jarvis was sitting.\n\nHe leant across Jarvis, and pointed to an article in his paper.\n\n\"Interesting story, that,\" said the man.\n\n\"It's old news,\" replied Jarvis, as he had been instructed.\n\n\"The old stories are always the best,\" said the man, completing the message as he walked away. Jarvis noticed that he had picked up the briefcase.\n\nMiller had noticed as well, and had photographed the whole thing from outside. The man with the briefcase hurried into the road, hailed a taxi and was gone.\n\nJarvis stirred his coffee as he also watched the man disappear into the traffic. An immense sense of relief flooded over him. Getting rid of that briefcase, and in particular its contents, was like getting rid of a rotten tooth. He felt quite euphoric. Now, perhaps, he could get back to something approaching a normal life, in spite of having to live with the memory of what he had done. He folded his paper and finished his coffee, deciding to wait for a moment before he, too, would leave the coffee bar.\n\nIn the end, it was half an hour or so before Jarvis left, and that was in the back of an ambulance.\n\n***\n\nIt had never occurred to Jarvis that he was going to die.\n\nAt least, not yet anyway.\n\nIt was all so totally unexpected, although he should have known, really. He should have realised that the Russians would not let him survive to tell the tale. The man must have slipped something into his coffee as he leant across to point to the newspaper article. That was it. The coffee. He should never have drunk it, but how was he to know? Too late, now. It had tasted funny, somehow, even by St. James' standards.\n\nBut now he knew he was going to die.\n\nIt was all happening so quickly.\n\nHe suddenly felt very ill indeed, and was already breaking out into a hot sweat, so at least it would be quick. Not like Alexander Litvinenko. When they killed him, it took 3 weeks for him to die from radiation sickness. They had given him a dose of polonium-210. No. Jarvis knew this would be quick, but also knew he could do nothing about it.\n\nHe wondered what it was the man had slipped into his coffee. But he couldn't think of anything much, least of all the name of any poison. Like instant Alzheimer's, it was. He was feeling quite light headed, and he wasn't quite sure where he was any more, but thought he ought to try to get home. God, he was hot – the sweat was pouring off him. He felt very dizzy, and a bit out of breath, although he knew he hadn't been running or doing anything much except drinking coffee. Bloody coffee. He thought he should try to stand up, ready to head for home, but somehow his legs didn't seem to work properly. His mouth was dry, and he couldn't really see the door any more either. For some reason, his eyes wouldn't focus. He was very perplexed and bemused. His head was spinning, and he felt tired and somehow weak, as if his strength was ebbing from him. He decided he'd leave the briefcase where it was and come back for it tomorrow when he was feeling better. He didn't want the newspaper, anyway. But he couldn't remember where he'd put the briefcase, or even where he was. In spite of his confused state and the most awful raging headache he'd ever had in his life, he somehow realised that there wasn't going to be a tomorrow. He was dying. No doubt about it. He made a huge effort to stand up, determined to get a taxi. His head rolled back with the effort and he toppled into the table next to him, tipping it over and everything on it. The two girls sitting there screamed as he slumped to the floor.\n\nNot that Jarvis heard them.\n\n***\n\nMiller did, though.\n\nHe was just about to get on his bike, ready to head for Clerkenwell with his camera. He glanced sideways into the coffee shop for the last time, just as Jarvis fell headlong into the table next to him. Miller dashed back inside and knelt over the sprawling body. He felt for a pulse, but there wasn't one. Jarvis was dead.\n\nOne of the staff rushed over.\n\n\"Get a plastic bag, quick,\" commanded Miller. \"One that you can seal, if you've got one.\"\n\nMiller carefully picked up what was left of Jarvis's mug of coffee. He could see crystalline grains still in the bottom of it. Could be sugar, could be something else. Forensic would find out.\n\nWhile the girl hurried away, Miller first rang 999, and then Clayton, who thankfully replied immediately. Miller didn't beat about the bush.\n\n\"Jarvis is dead,\" he announced, \"probably poisoned with something that acts very fast. I've got his coffee cup and will make sure it's given to the police when they arrive, unless you want it. I've rung for an ambulance, so I'll head straight back to your place with the camera. I didn't see his drink being spiked, but it might just be in one of the shots I took. Tell the garage my bike will need new number plates when I get back.\" He rang off.\n\nThe waitress arrived with the plastic bag.\n\n\"The man's probably been poisoned,\" said Miller to the astonished girl, as he put the mug into the bag and sealed it. \"Make sure you give this to the Police when they arrive, and no-one else. Understand?\"\n\nThe girl nodded, with her hand over her mouth.\n\nMiller dashed out, and swung his leg over the bike. He switched on the headlights and the previously hidden flashing blue lights, and with the siren going full blast, made off at high speed, leaving Jarvis for the police to sort out. Nobody thought to try and stop him. He drove far too fast down Piccadilly, swerved round the Circus and into Shaftsbury Avenue. He wasn't altogether sure, thinking about it afterwards, how he got across the traffic at the Charing Cross Road junction, but eventually made his way into Theobalds Road and then Clerkenwell Road. Left into Farringdon Road, and he was nearly there. He swerved right into Bowling Green lane, switched off his lights and siren, and spent a useful couple of minutes pottering about the back streets to make sure he wasn't being followed, before making his way into Clerkenwell Green and the Section 11 garage. They were expecting him.\n\nClayton took Miller's mobile phone, slipped out the memory stick, and inserted it into his computer.\n\n\"That's the bloke,\" said Miller. \"I took that shot before Jarvis arrived. There's Jarvis, with the briefcase. And that's him with the Russian leaning over him, pointing at something in the newspaper. That must have been when he slipped something into Jarvis's coffee.\"\n\n\"Let's blow it up a bit,\" said Clayton, manipulating the computer programme to enlarge the image.\n\n\"Hey, look at that,\" said Miller. \"There's something in his other hand, near the mug. Looks like glass or plastic – a tube of some sort.\"\n\n\"Very small, whatever it is.\"\n\nThey looked at the next photo Miller had taken.\n\n\"Gone!\" said Clayton. \"Looks as if he's just put it back into his pocket, judging by where his hand is.\"\n\n\"Pity this isn't a video.\"\n\nThey flicked to the next shot.\n\n\"And there he is, picking up the briefcase.\"\n\nThe next frame showed the man walking towards the door, briefcase in hand.\n\n\"Well done, Miller,\" said Clayton. \"We'll get the experts to work on these photos to see if they can intensify the images a bit, but it looks almost certain that he fixed Jarvis's coffee with something or other, and put the empty phial or packet into his pocket before grabbing the briefcase and leaving.\"\n\n\"I made sure his empty coffee mug was secured and told one of the waitresses to give it to the police when they arrived. Forensic people should be able to find out what killed him.\"\n\n\"Pretty damned quick, whatever it was. I think I'll have a word with the Secretary of the Joint Intelligence Committee, and e-mail these photos to him straight away. Hang around if you will, Miller, in case something else crops up.\"\n\n\"OK, Colonel. I'll nip down to the mess room for a coffee.\"\n\nHe paused.\n\n\"On second thoughts, perhaps I'll have tea, just for a change.\"\n\n***\n\nHead of 'S' got through to Sir Robin Algar quickly, on the secure phone.\n\n\"I have news,\" said Clayton. \"You must decide whether it's good or bad, but Alan Jarvis is dead.\"\n\n\"What? An accident or something?\"\n\n\"No. He has been murdered. He met a Russian agent, as arranged, to hand back the gun he used last night, and the man spiked his coffee with something or other. Very quick acting, whatever it was. Jarvis was dead within a minute or so.\"\n\n\"How do you know all this?\" demanded Algar.\n\n\"One of my chaps was there and witnessed the whole thing. Nothing he could do – it was all too quick, and he didn't actually see the substance being put into Jarvis's coffee. But he's got photographs.\"\n\n\"Has he, by God!\"\n\n\"I've emailed them to you just this minute. Have a look, and get your technical chaps to enhance a couple if you can. They were taken from outside the coffee bar, so they're not that brilliant.\"\n\n\"Can we recognise the Russian?\"\n\n\"Almost a portrait of the man.\"\n\n\"In that case, I might suggest the Foreign Secretary has the Ambassador in for a word.\"\n\n\"Don't let's start expelling diplomats, for heaven's sake, or my cover will be blown,\" pleaded 'S'.\n\n\"Don't worry – we'll handle it with care. But we can't have Foreign nationals murdering our people in our own back yard, and then expect to get away with it. I suppose the police are on the case now, are they.\"\n\n\"They should be. My man rang 999 as soon as he knew Jarvis was dead. He also had the presence of mind to secure the coffee cup, so the Met's forensic lab in Lambeth should be able to identify what was used.\"\n\n\"Sounds as if your chap was on the ball,\" commented Algar. \"I'll check with the Yard, to see how they're getting on. It might be helpful if we let the press know that one of our top \"spies\" has been murdered, and let them work out who did it.\"\n\n\"Give me a couple of hours first, will you Robin. I've one or two loose ends to tie up here still, if you don't mind. Incidentally, while you're on to the media, you might let them know too that one of our top scientists has disappeared – nervous breakdown suspected because of over-work or something like that. We want the Russians to think that Jarvis has got the right man.\"\n\n\"Good idea, that,\" replied Algar. \"By the way, I should have asked, but is Jarvis's boy OK – I forget his name?\"\n\n\"Donald. And he's OK. We got to him first.\"\n\n\"Jarvis didn't know that?\"\n\n\"No. We let him think the Russians had taken the boy, otherwise the whole operation would have been abandoned. We needed Jarvis in the loop, to confirm who their target really was.\"\n\n\"The Russians must have wondered what the hell was going on, knowing they hadn't taken him, but Jarvis continuing to react in spite of that, as if they had.\"\n\n\"They must have guessed, but didn't care so long as Jarvis was still prepared to do their dirty work for them.\"\n\n\"Interesting! I've pulled up your photographs on my email now, by the way. Good, aren't they? I'll get my chaps working on them, and then I think I'll get Wilfred Forsyth to pull in the Ambassador Yuri Nevsky, to see what he has to say for himself. Tomorrow give you enough time for your 'loose ends'?\"\n\n\"Plenty, thanks, but make sure the Foreign Office demands the return of the briefcase and its contents. They're not supposed to know that we discovered it was theirs in the first place and that it contained a Kalashnikov. We need to let them think that we believe it belonged to Jarvis, and that it contained documents stolen by him at their request.\"\n\n\"Good point, Bill. Anything else I should brief the F.O. about?\"\n\n\"Not so long as they remember that officially we don't know that Jarvis killed Barclay, or that he's even dead. Even though he isn't, if you see what I mean. Let me know what happens.\"\n\n***\n\n\"Any idea where Nick is?\" Bill Clayton asked Barbara.\n\n\"Not really,\" she replied. \"Said he was going out on a case, but would be back later this afternoon.\"\n\n\"Let me know when he's back. I need to see him for a chat, but don't bother getting him specially. It will keep for an hour or so.\"\n\n\"Coffee?\" she asked.\n\n\"Please. And see if you can get Doc. Perkins on the phone. He's at Buscot Park with Professor Barclay. I'd like to know how that's going.\"\n\nHead of 'S' spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on things like that, tying up loose ends, clearing paper work, and so on, but all the time he was conscious of a tricky personnel issue he had to deal with later. But he needed to talk to Nick about it first. Nick eventually got back to HQ just after five, and went straight in to see Clayton.\n\n\"The little lady next door said you wanted a word,\" he said cheerily.\n\n\"Close the door, Nick.\"\n\n\"Sounds serious,\" said Nick.\n\n\"In a way it is, in that it affects Barbara, but I wanted to talk to you about it before I spoke to her.\"\n\n\"What's happened?\"\n\n\"Alan Jarvis is dead. Murdered by the Russians.\"\n\n\"Holy smoke!\"\n\n\"Quite!\"\n\nClayton showed Marsden the photos, and told him what had happened earlier.\n\n\"Miller can't be blamed for Jarvis's death in any way. He's done remarkably well, really,\" said Marsden.\n\n\"I couldn't agree more,\" said Clayton. \"The point is though, that apart from the diplomatic hoo-hah, which is not for us to sort out, it means that Barbara's young son Donald no longer has a father. She needs to be told.\"\n\n\"Quite,\" said Marsden. \"Of course she does.\"\n\nHe paused for thought.\n\n\"Tricky one, this.\"\n\n\"Quite,\" agreed Clayton. \"Shall I tell her, or will you, or shall we have her in and tell her together.\"\n\n\"Together might be best,\" suggested Marsden.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Well, we both know that Jarvis is Donald's father.\"\n\n\"Was.\"\n\n\"Pardon?\"\n\n\" _Was_ Donald's father. He's dead now.\"\n\n\"Quite.\"\n\n\"I don't much fancy telling her on my own, to be honest,\" said Clayton.\n\n\"Quite. Neither do I, to be honest,\" agreed Marsden.\n\n\"Together, then.\"\n\nThe two men sat looking at one another.\n\n\"How do you think she'll react, then?\" asked Clayton. \"You probably know her better than I do, what with having been here longer, and going out with her now and then.\"\n\n\"Well,\" began Marsden. \"Well. She may not be too upset, since she didn't really like the man, after the way he's treated her recently. On the other hand, she may feel upset that Donald no longer has a father. Not that Donald liked him much either,\" he added.\n\n\"Never quite understood who he was, as I understand it,\" said Bill Clayton.\n\n\"Quite. He never seemed very happy in the man's company, somehow.\"\n\nThere was another pause.\n\n\"Well. Let's get this over then.\"\n\n\"Should we have a bottle of wine open or something?\" asked Nick Marsden.\n\n\"She might not feel like celebrating,\" Bill reminded him. \"But I think there's one in the fridge if necessary.\"\n\n\"I'll ask her to come in, then,\" said Nick.\n\nNick fetched her from the office next door.\n\n\"Come in Barbara, and take a seat,\" invited Bill. \"We have something to tell you.\"\n\n\"I'm not getting the sack, am I?\" She looked worried.\n\n\"No, no. nothing like that at all.\"\n\n\"That's a relief, I must say. It's getting more and more expensive looking after Donald these days, as he grows older.\"\n\n\"How is the boy, by the way,\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Pleased to be home again and back in his old routine, but he really did enjoy his few days with you and Catherine, Bill. I can't thank you enough for that.\"\n\n\"No problem at all,\" replied Bill.\n\n\"In fact, he rang only a short time ago, wanting to come in to show you both his latest drawing, which apparently got first prize at school today. Very proud of it, he is, and very disappointed I wouldn't let him bring it round.\"\n\n\"I could drop by later to see it, if that would help,\" suggested Nick.\n\n\"I'd like that, too,\" said Barbara. \"But what did you want to see me about?\"\n\n\"Well, I won't beat about the bush, Barbara, but we thought you should know straight away. It's about Alan Jarvis. I'm afraid he died earlier today.\"\n\n\"Oh dear,\" said Barbara. \"An accident or something.\"\n\n\"Not quite. He was murdered. Poisoned. By the Russians we think.\"\n\nThe girl looked shocked.\n\n\"Why would they do a thing like that?\"\n\n\"They had blackmailed him into doing some work for them, and then wanted him out of the way.\"\n\n\"Oh dear,\" she said again.\n\n\"I hope you're not too upset,\" said Nick, even though she didn't seem to be in the least.\n\n\"I suppose I should be,\" she replied, \"but I'm afraid I'm not. I never really cared for the man. In fact, if I'm honest, I hated him lately.\"\n\n\"Would you like a glass of wine?\" asked Bill clumsily, feeling rather as though he could do with a glass himself. \"To settle the nerves.\"\n\n\"There's a bottle in the fridge – I'll get it.\"\n\nWhen she had poured them each a glass she said, \"You know, I really feel more sorry for Donald than anyone at the moment.\"\n\n\"Why's that?\" asked Bill.\n\n\"Well, he's never really had a father, and now he never will. And he's getting to the age when he could really do with one.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Nick. \"Perhaps I could help a bit there. From time to time.\"\n\nShe looked at him quizzically.\n\n\"What I mean is,\" Nick blundered on, \"we do seem to get on quite well together, and I'm quite good at train sets and that sort of thing. I can punt a rugby ball about and we could play cricket if he likes.\" Nick was getting ever more enthusiastic. \"And I've got a small boat at my place near Portsmouth – I could teach him to sail, and even go fishing off the beach, and catch crabs in the rock pools, and...\"\n\n\"Hang on, Nick!\" said Barbara. \"Don't get too carried away! But if that's the craziest proposal of marriage I'm ever likely to get, then I accept, on Donald's behalf of course.\"\n\n\"Good grief, Barbara. Really?\" Nick looked stunned. \"If only I'd known, I'd have asked long ago.\"\n\nBill Clayton saw his chance, and took it.\n\n\"Look here, you two. Finish off that bottle of wine, but I must get home if you'll excuse me.\"\n\nHe made for the door and left.\n\nNick took Barbara's arm. \"Come on, old thing,\" he said. \"Let's get a bottle of bubbly on the way back to your place, and have a look at Donald's drawing.\"\n\n***\nCHAPTER THIRTEEN \\- DIPLOMATIC MOVES\n\nHis Excellency, Yuri Nevsky, Ambassador to the Court of St. James's of the Russian Federation, wasn't best pleased to be summoned to the Foreign Office. He had only presented his credentials to Her Majesty in June. A quaint little ceremony, full of pomp and tradition, the sort of event which could only be staged in London. But he and his wife had enjoyed it nevertheless, and had felt quite grand, even honoured, to be presented to Her Majesty.\n\nThis was going to be rather different, however. He had hoped never to be 'summoned' during his tenure of office, and certainly not quite so soon. Although he had met the Foreign Secretary, his meeting this time would be with some underling-or-other, probably the Permanent Secretary, Sir Wilfred Forsyth – a nice enough chap, although rather fierce when he wanted to be. As a general rule, Ambassadors were dealt with by civil servants, on a day-to-day basis. Government Ministers were dealt with by Government Ministers.\n\nNevsky knew what it was all about. The UK had lost one of its top spies, a man from MI5 called Jarvis, who had died in mysterious circumstances in a Piccadilly coffee shop. The newspapers were running the story, and speculating that the man had been murdered by a Russian KGB agent. Of course, there was not a shred of evidence to support this outrageous suggestion, but nevertheless Her Majesty's Government, through the Foreign Office, had to be seen to be 'doing' something. Nevsky understood that. Nevsky had also been fully briefed. He knew the background, and knew the facts. He also knew that, even if the UK Government believed it could prove Russian involvement in the man's death, they would take no action whatsoever, because if they did, one of their own Top Secret organisations would be blown wide open.\n\nThere were, however, a few worrying issues surrounding this case which did not entirely put the Ambassador at his ease as he drove to Whitehall.\n\nHe knew that the dead spy had been blackmailed into carrying out an assassination for them, which the man had done in spite of the fact that the blackmail weapon had not, in the end, existed as the Russians had hoped and planned. The man had been told that his son was to be abducted by Russian agents, which had certainly been the intention, but when it came to it, they had not been able to carry out their plan. At the time they had intended to take the boy from his school, he had already disappeared. Indeed, he did not turn up to school that morning at all.\n\nSo the kidnap could not take place.\n\nNevertheless, Jarvis had carried out their mission for them, obviously believing that his son was being held by the Russians, as threatened. To this day, the Ambassador and his staff had not been able to explain where the boy had been instead of being at school, or why he had disappeared. There had been no apparent trace of him at home, either, so perhaps he was ill. If he was ill, the British agent seemed to be unaware of the fact, and had assumed that his son had been kidnapped, as he had been told. That in itself was extremely odd, to say the least.\n\nAnd another thing. The man whom Jarvis had so neatly assassinated for them, Professor Jack Barclay, had still not been confirmed as being dead. He had been reported missing, certainly, in a low-key sort of way, and the theory was that the Professor, having suffered a nervous breakdown of some sort due to pressure of work, had simply disappeared for a few days. Rubbish! He was dead! At least, their best information was that he was dead, but the Ambassador had a funny feeling that he may not be. For some reason yet to be explained, the British authorities had not yet found his body, or, if they had, were keeping the fact quiet.\n\nNone of his advisors had been able to offer the Ambassador a satisfactory explanation for either of these two, rather odd, circumstances. The hope and expectation was that he, the Ambassador, would be able to discover more during the course of his interview at the Foreign Office.\n\nIn the end, he didn't.\n\nAt the appointed hour, Yuri Nevsky, accompanied by his interpreter and a secretary, was escorted with due dignity into the office of Sir Wilfred Forsyth. Nevsky, of course, spoke perfect English, but the interpreter was there – well, shall we say, just in case, and to take notes and so on. Forsyth was similarly accompanied, it has to be said.\n\nNevsky could not but admire Forsyth's office. It was, to say the least, very grand, totally in keeping with the old Foreign Office building itself, with its high ceilings and sweeping, carpeted staircases, lined with magnificent portraits. Forsyth rose from behind a huge oak desk to greet Nevsky as he was ushered in to the office, formally but cordially. He motioned the Ambassador towards one of several leather armchairs around a circular Victorian inlaid coffee table, in front of an open fireplace, laid with coal and logs. Officials from both parties sat at the conference table on the other side of the room.\n\nThe Ambassador looked around him.\n\n\"I envy you your splendid office,\" he said to Forsyth. \"Compared with this, mine is humble accommodation, although by Russian standards, still rather grand. But this...\" He waived his hand as he looked around him.\n\n\"Thank you, Ambassador,\" responded Forsyth. \"As I am sure you will realise, this building and its interior is steeped in history. I am lucky to be able to benefit from that.\"\n\nNevsky was offered a sherry, in a crystal glass, poured from a finely cut crystal decanter. Or tea or coffee, if he preferred.\n\nHe could well imagine Forsyth's predecessors, sitting in this very chair, sipping sherry poured from the same decanter before an open fire, ruling a third of the world at the height of Britain's empirical and colonial days.\n\n\"You may know, Mr. Ambassador, why I have asked you here today,\" began Forsyth when they had settled.\n\n\"I was not so much asked,\" Nevsky reminded Forsyth, \"as summoned,\"\n\n\"Quite so,\" replied Forsyth, \"but that is the way of things in the diplomatic world, is it not? As I was saying, I am sure you will know that you have been _summoned_ here today, if that is how you would prefer to put it, because of the distressing murder of one of our senior civil servants. I am equally sure you will have read reports in the newspapers alleging that, in some way or other, your own civil servants were responsible for the man's death. I would be glad to hear what you have to say about these allegations.\"\n\n\"As you would expect, Sir Wilfred, I emphatically deny that we had any knowledge of, or involvement in this murder, if that's what it was. However, since you raise the matter, which, as you suggest, I have seen reported in your rather hysterical media, the least I can do on behalf of the people of the Russian Federation, is to ask you to pass on our sympathy to the family of the man concerned.\"\n\n\"Thank you Ambassador. I shall be pleased to do so. But, I fear that, from what you say, you may not have been fully briefed about the facts surrounding this tragic incident.\"\n\n\"It should not surprise you, Sir Wilfred, when I tell you that I have received no briefing at all, since we know nothing about the case to which you refer, other than what we have read in your newspapers.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm sorry to say that it _does_ surprise me to hear that. It is only fair that I tell you that your officials have let you down, Ambassador, by not keeping you fully informed, as I suspected earlier.\"\n\nForsyth refilled the ambassador's glass from the decanter, and reached for an envelope on the coffee table. He removed a photograph from the envelope, and passed it to Ambassador Nevsky.\n\n\"You will probably recognise this as Dmitry Makienko, second secretary in your commercial department. This photograph was taken yesterday, as you will see from the date and time at the foot of the print.\"\n\nNevsky removed his spectacles and polished them on a clean 'kerchief from his top pocket.\n\nHe replaced his glasses, and looked closely at the photograph.\n\n\"The man looks vaguely familiar, I must admit, but I cannot claim to know every official in our large Embassy.\"\n\nHe motioned to his secretary, who bustled across the room.\n\n\"Do you know this man?\" he demanded.\n\n\"Indeed I do, Ambassador,\" said the man. \"It is comrade Makienko. I know him well, and, as a matter of fact, we frequently lunch together at the St. James' coffee house. I recognise that, also.\"\n\n\"That will do, thank you,\" said the Ambassador, waving his clerk away angrily. The man was a fool. Fancy agreeing that the photograph had been taken in the very coffee house where Jarvis was murdered.\n\n\"So, Mr. Permanent Secretary,\" said Nevsky tetchily to Sir Wilfred Forsyth, \"You appear to have a photograph of one of our officials having luncheon. Have I been summoned here just to confirm that?\"\n\n\"Up to a point, yes,\" said Forsyth. \"Your official happens to have been lunching, if that is what he _was_ doing, in the very establishment in which our man was murdered, on the same day and at about the same time.\"\n\n\"A pure coincidence,\" claimed Nevsky, haughtily. \"It can be nothing else.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I could ask you to look closer at the photograph, Your Excellency,\" invited Forsyth, \"since there appears to be little or no evidence that your official was having lunch at all. It is, as I understand it, a self service coffee shop, and your man has nothing on his table apart from a coffee mug. It would not appear that the man went there for lunch at all.\"\n\n\"I am not familiar, Sir Wilfred, with the man's dietary habits.\"\n\n\"I put it to you, Ambassador, that your official did not go there yesterday to have lunch, but to meet our man Jarvis.\"\n\n\"Rubbish!\" exclaimed Nevsky. \"I really must protest that you should waste so much of my time on this trivia and wild speculation. I shall regard it as my duty on returning to the Embassy, to write a full and detailed report to my superiors in Moscow, who will no doubt deliver an official and formal protest at your action in summoning me here today.\"\n\n\"As you wish, Mr. Nevsky.\"\n\n\"If you have a shred of evidence that my man Makienko knew your man at all, I should be pleased to hear it.\"\n\nHis secretary shuddered. The Ambassador was getting carried away.\n\n\"Certainly, Ambassador. If it's evidence you want, look at this.\"\n\nThe ambassador's secretary raised his eyes to the heavens.\n\n\"Here is another photograph,\" said Forsyth, reaching in to the envelope. \"This shows Makienko leaning over Jarvis, apparently in conversation with him. You will note the date and time printed at the foot of the picture. A little later on that day and in the same place, Jarvis died.\"\n\nForsyth waited for a reaction, but there was none.\n\n\"Your excellent and efficient secretary has already confirmed that the photographs of Makienko were taken in the St. James' coffee bar, and that he frequented the place often. No doubt that is why he suggested it as a rendezvous, don't you think?\"\n\nAt the moment, the Ambassador was not thinking at all. This interview was not going at all as he had hoped and planned.\n\nNevsky removed his glasses, polished them again, and picked up both pictures.\n\n\"You will also notice, in the second photograph I have handed to you, what appears to be a phial in Makienko's right hand, near Jarvis's coffee cup,\"\n\nNevsky said nothing.\n\n\"And here is another,\" said Forsyth, adding to the man's discomfiture, \"which shows your agent – sorry, second secretary in your commercial department - having just replaced the phial in his pocket.\"\n\nForsyth almost felt sorry for the man across the table, who remained silent, studying the pictures intently through misted spectacles.\n\n\"Finally,\" said Sir Wilfred, twisting the knife, \"I will show you a photograph of Makienko picking up Jarvis's briefcase, and then yet another,\" he produced it from the envelope with a flourish, \"of him leaving the coffee bar with the briefcase. A few moments after that, Jarvis died.\"\n\nSir Wilfred Forsyth sat back in his chair, as he watched the Ambassador wrestle with the evidence he had been shown. Nevsky mopped his brow, and then, similarly, sat back in his leather armchair with a resigned air. He removed his spectacles once again.\n\n\"What do you expect of me, Wilfred,\" he asked with a sigh, casting formality aside.\n\n\"First of all, Yuri,\" replied Forsyth, \"I hope we can avoid any major diplomatic incident over this matter. Her Majesty's Government does not wish to see a repeat of the aggravation and tension which followed the murder of Alexander Litvinenko. In that incident, your Government refused, and indeed still refuses for that matter, to extradite the killer. The circumstances here, however, are somewhat different. Litvinenko was a Russian citizen, murdered by another Russian citizen, but on British sovereign territory. In this case, we believe one of your fellow Russians has murdered a British citizen, and we regard that as altogether more serious, as you can imagine.\"\n\nThe Ambassador nodded.\n\n\"I am sure my Government would also wish to avoid a major dispute arising out of this case, always assuming, of course, that you are able to prove your allegations in the first place.\"\n\n\"I must admit that, apart from the photographs, the evidence we have is so far largely circumstantial. The poison administered to Jarvis was one of the fastest acting there is, based on nicotine, but without access to Makienko's clothing or the phial he carried, we cannot directly prove that it was he who administered the poison. I have no doubt, however, that given half a chance, a British jury would not hesitate to conclude that Jarvis was murdered by Makienko, and bring in a guilty verdict.\"\n\n\"I have to agree with you,\" admitted Nevsky. \"In spite of what I claimed earlier, I was given a detailed briefing about this incident, and we have also concluded that you would have difficulty in bringing a satisfactory case to court. We were then, of course, unaware of the existence of the photographs that you have shown me.\"\n\nNevsky sipped his sherry, thoughtfully.\n\n\"May I keep the photographs?\"\n\n\"No, sir. You may not.\"\n\nNevsky nodded.\n\n\"So I ask again, Wilfred, what it is you expect of me.\"\n\n\"First of all and perhaps most importantly, I must demand the return of Jarvis's briefcase and its contents. We have, of course, mounted an urgent and detailed search in an effort to ascertain what papers Jarvis may have passed to you, but they must be returned immediately. I also need your assurance that Makienko will leave this country at the earliest possible opportunity.\"\n\n\"Would you propose to expel him? That would result inevitably in tit-for-tat expulsions, and who knows where that might end.\"\n\n\"If I must expel him, then I shall, but I hope you will see to it that expulsion will not be necessary. I also hope it will not be necessary for us to recall our Ambassador for consultations, with all that implies in the public mind.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" replied the Russian. \"As it happens,\" he added, grasping for some sort of face-saving device, \"Makienko is about at the end of his tour, and due to leave anyway.\"\n\nForsyth knew this was not true, but said nothing.\n\n\"If it would help to speed up his repatriation, I can arrange tickets for him and his family on the first British Airways flight to Moscow in the morning. Her Majesty's Government would be only too happy to meet the cost.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir Wilfred, but that will not be necessary. Similar arrangements are already in hand. As to the briefcase,\" added the Ambassador, recovering his composure, \"I fear its return will not be possible. It belonged to us in the first place, and I can assure you that, when it was returned to us at the meeting between Makienko and Jarvis, it contained no papers or copies of papers relating to any business of the British Government.\"\n\nForsyth smiled. At least Nevsky was telling the truth about the contents of the briefcase.\n\n\"Your Excellency,\" he said formally, after a pause for thought, \"I accept your assurances about the contents of the briefcase, and that Makienko will be leaving this country tomorrow on the first available flight to Moscow. For my part, I shall take steps to ensure that there is no public or official comment made on the press speculation about Russian involvement in the Jarvis case, and no doubt, in the absence of any direct evidence at the present time, Scotland Yard will similarly refrain from official comment.\"\n\nNevsky stood to leave.\n\n\"Thank you Sir Wilfred. I am glad that you and I understand one another.\"\n\nThey shook hands.\n\n\"By the way,\" said the Ambassador as he reached the door, \"as an ex-member of the KGB myself, I must congratulate your people on the technically excellent fake photographs you have shown me. Very convincing!\"\n\nHe grinned and left.\n\nForsyth immediately emailed a full video recording of the entire meeting to Sir Robin Algar, at the Cabinet Office.\n\n***\n\nThe Ambassador was not a happy man. He had learnt nothing from his meeting at the Foreign Office, except that the Permanent Secretary was a very clever and astute public servant, who had got the better of him throughout. For one thing, he, Yuri Nevsky, had missed the chance to probe about Professor Barclay. All his staff at the embassy were quite sure that Barclay had been shot as planned, but there was now an ominous silence from the British about the whole affair, both from official sources and in the media, which he and his colleagues could not understand. Surely, the shooting of an eminent scientist like that would have provoked a good deal of interest, but there was, as yet, simply no confirmation of his death. Barclay certainly seemed to have disappeared suddenly, and that had been officially admitted, but there were only the unsubstantiated rumours circulating that he might have had some sort of nervous breakdown. It would have been a tricky subject for him to raise with Forsyth, but he could have engineered it given time. The fact was, though, that he had been wrong-footed almost from the start.\n\nThose damned photographs.\n\nIt had been stupid of him, as well, to make that rather cheap remark about them being fakes. He wished he hadn't said that. Altogether, a bad afternoon. He concluded that, in spite of Putin making it to President, ex-KGB men were not really cut out to be diplomats. Certainly Dmitry Makienko did not even appear to be a good KGB officer. He had been sent to England with the specific responsibility for getting rid of Barclay, but on the present evidence, he should never even have been allowed out of the Russian Federation.\n\nAs Yuri Nevsky got into his car and drove off, he turned to his secretary and fixed his forearm in a vice-like grip.\n\n\"If that incompetent buffoon Makienko is not on the first aeroplane out of here tomorrow morning,\" he hissed, \"then you will be on the next.\"\n\nThe bruises showed for a week.\n\n***\n\nThe first flight out of London the following morning was a British Airways departure from Heathrow at 8.40, so Dmitry Makienko did not have a lot of time to get himself ready to leave. At least his special pleading had been partially successful, in that his family had been granted an extra two days before they were required to follow him. Flight BA0872 was always popular, as its arrival at Domodedovo after a seven hour non-stop flight gave businessmen time for a good dinner and a whole day's work in Moscow the next day. Makienko was booked tourist class, and there was no chance of an up-grade. Neither could he plead diplomatic status, as this had been withdrawn, and he was travelling on his personal passport. So he was treated just like anyone else, except that the Embassy had at least provided him with a car and a driver to get him to Heathrow.\n\nThis was probably just to make sure he actually got on the aircraft.\n\nDusty Miller was there for exactly the same reason.\n\nThe only difference was that the driver left the airport after he had seen Makienko check in. Miller, on the other hand, followed him through passport control and the security checks, into the departure lounge. But then Miller had a special pass which allowed him to do so. He also had a small case with him – cabin baggage – so he looked just like any other passenger. Not that Makienko knew what he looked like, anyway, so there was no way he would be recognised or arouse any suspicion.\n\nMiller was sitting near the Russian in the departure lounge, and noticed that he was wearing the same overcoat that he had on in St. James' coffee bar. The man left it on his seat, with his hand baggage, to visit the toilets, and Miller generously offered to keep an eye on it for him while he was away. It was too good a chance to miss.\n\nMiller risked all, picked up the coat, and hurriedly followed Makienko into the gent's toilets, where he found an empty cubicle. It took him no time at all to cut the right hand pocket out of the coat with his knife, and be back in his seat before the Russian reappeared, still casually wiping his hands on the seat of his trousers. The man nodded his thanks to Miller.\n\nDusty knew that if there were to be traces of that poison anywhere, they would be in that pocket. Then the authorities would have all the evidence they ever needed to prove that Makienko had killed Jarvis. They already knew the poison that had been used. It was nicotine based, made from soaking tobacco leaves in extreme heat, and then crystallising the resulting tar. It took only a tiny amount to cause death, often in as little as a minute, and coffee was the ideal drink in which to disguise the poison's strong taste.\n\nWhen the flight was called, Miller followed the Russian along the extended footbridge pier to the aircraft door, watched the man board the aircraft, and then waited with the ground staff until the engines started and the aircraft was cleared for 'push back'. Only then, when he was sure there was no way the Russian could avoid being taken back to Moscow, did he return to the terminal building and report to the Clerkenwell Ops. Room that Makienko was on his way home.\n\nLater that day, MI6's Moscow station confirmed that he had arrived. He had been met, and whisked away in a large Zlin with blacked out windows. Moscow station could only guess where he had gone.\n\nActually, the people in London were more excited about the coat pocket Miller had brought them, than the whereabouts of the ex-second secretary in the commercial department of the Russian Embassy.\n\n***\n\nDmitry Makienko was taken from Domodedovo airport direct to the Lubyanka Building in central Moscow, now Headquarters if the FSB, the successor organisation to the KGB. The KGB was too well known for its new title to have gained popular currency yet, and in any case there was still a KGB museum in the building. But the notorious Lubyanka prison was also still there, and for one terrifying moment, Makienko wondered if that was to be his final destination.\n\nInstead, he was taken to the office of one of the FSB Directors, who asked him for 'an explanation'.\n\nThere wasn't one.\n\nHe, Dmitry Makienko, had thought it a good idea to use an Englishman to murder Barclay, so as to remove any shadow of suspicion from the Russian Federation, and then to eliminate the perpetrator after the deed had been done. That had the additional benefit of getting rid of one of Britain's top spies, as part of the same operation. So far as he knew, the whole operation which he had meticulously planned and executed, had gone exactly to plan.\n\nThe mystery now, though, was why the British authorities had not yet announced the death of one of their most eminent nuclear physicists. It was only this that was now casting some doubt, in certain circles, about Makienko's professional abilities. He explained to his Director that he had _personally_ been to the block of flats in London used by Jarvis, across the car park from where Barclay lived. With high powered night vision binoculars, the prone body of Professor Barclay was clearly visible on the floor of his apartment. There was no question about the fact that he was dead.\n\nThe fact also was, though, that the British authorities appeared not yet to have discovered the body. That was why there had been no announcement. Makienko had considered tipping off the police, but had decided against it. His target was dead, and that was good enough. The body would be discovered in due course, without doubt.\n\nAs to the so-called photographs of his involvement in the subsequent death of Jarvis, these were obviously fakes. His Excellency the Ambassador had said so himself. No British agent could possibly have known that he was to meet Jarvis at that awful coffee bar, and he, Dmitry Makienko, had most definitely seen no evidence at all of anyone acting suspiciously, agent or not, with or without a camera, and of course had been there some time before Jarvis arrived. Naturally, he hadn't seen the photographs himself, and his colleague the Ambassador had been denied copies, so they were obviously clever forgeries, used by the British to get him out of the country.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" suggested the Director, \"the British were listening in to your telephone calls, or even to Jarvis's. As we would have done. Perhaps that's how they knew where and when you were to meet.\"\n\nDmitry Makienko shrugged.\n\n\"Perhaps the photographs were not fakes after all, and that you were stupidly caught red-handed.\"\n\nMakienko shrugged again.\n\n\"But the body in Barclay's flat is real enough,\" he said. \"I have been there and seen it. And there is no question either that Barclay has disappeared – the British have admitted as much.\"\n\n\"How can you be sure it is Barclay in the flat? How did you positively identify the man? Had you ever met him? Had Jarvis?\"\n\nDmitry Makienko was feeling distinctly uncomfortable.\n\n\"I conclude that you have been less than thorough on your handling of this case, comrade Makienko,\" said the Director. \"You have taken too many risks and left too many loose ends. That is not how you have been trained.\"\n\nThe man wondered what was coming next.\n\n\"You have, through your stupidity, caused considerable embarrassment to the Russian Federation, without in the end being able to show us a shred of evidence that your original mission has been successfully completed. I would have every right to throw you into the cells below, don't you agree?\"\n\nHe nodded, fearing the worst.\n\n\"However,\" concluded the Director, after a pause, \"in view of your previous experience and seniority, and in view of the fact that I can no more prove that you have failed in your mission than you can prove that you have succeeded, I have decided that you should undergo an immediate and intensive period of re-training. This will last a week or so, after which you will be returned to London to collect evidence which will convince us that your clumsy plan did indeed result in the death of Professor Barclay.\"\n\n\"Thank you, comrade Director,\" said Makienko.\n\nHe made his way out of the building to a waiting car. It was a chilly evening, and he put on his overcoat as he crossed the pavement, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets.\n\nHis blood ran cold.\n\nThe right hand pocket was missing.\n\nThe pocket in which the phial of poison had been kept, and to which it been returned almost empty, had been neatly cut out and removed.\n\nTen days later, he returned to London on the evening Aeroflot flight, SU240. Dusty Miller was not at the foot of the Airbus A320 steps to meet him, or in the arrivals hall, as he mingled with the airport crowds. The man on the immigration desk let him through without question. Once again, he was travelling on his own, rather than a diplomatic passport, as a visiting businessman. He made his own way to the Russian Consulate trade delegation offices in Highgate, where he was to be based for as long as it took him to complete his new assignment.\n\nIt was their double agent in London who tipped off MI5 that Dmitry Makienko was back in town.\n\n***\nCHAPTER FOURTEEN - THE GOLDFISH BOWL\n\nBill Clayton had already been to visit the professor a couple of times. His first visit was a few days after Barclay had been spirited away from Buscot to Harley Street for some plastic surgery on his scar. Doc. Perkins had arranged it, and one of the country's top people had done a pretty good job with a small skin graft. Mark Perkins and the surgeon were both convinced that, in a week or so, you would only be able to see the scar if you knew where to look. That was just what Clayton needed to know. If the surgery was a success, then Barclay could start to assume his new personality. Barclay was as relieved as anyone.\n\n\"Apart from the physical and psychological side of this little exercise,\" Clayton had told Barclay, \"there's quite a bit of paper work to be done, so we may as well get started.\"\n\n\"There's always paper work to be done,\" grumbled Barclay.\n\n\"There are two really important things for you to decide. First of all, there are bound to be a few people who need to know you are still around – people you would want to know that Professor Jack Barclay is still alive, after you are officially declared dead. People like your Director at Culham, your immediate deputy on the fusion team, other close colleagues and perhaps a few friends. People you can really trust and who really _need_ to know. I want a list from you as soon as possible, so that we can thoroughly double check them for security and reliability. Keep the list as short as you can, please – no more than six if possible.\n\n\"Secondly, we need you to pick a new name for yourself, so that we can start preparing all the new documents you need. And there's lots of them, not just a new passport and driving licence, but things like a birth certificate and everything from there on in, like graduation certificates, the electoral register and so on. But we need a name.\"\n\n\"I've already been thinking about a new name,\" said Barclay. \"I would like to take on my brother's Christian name, Roger, and thought that Lloyd might be a good surname. I'm already named after a bank, after all!\"\n\n\"Better than Nat West, I suppose,\" joked Clayton, \"but if that's your decision, we'll get on with it straight away.\"\n\n\"Decided, then! Oh, and I think Doctor rather than Professor.\"\n\n\"Dr. Roger Lloyd it is then.\"\n\n\"By the way,\" Lloyd frowned, \"any news about my brother?\"\n\n\"You'll be the first to hear when there is, Jack – I mean Roger. It can't be too long now before his body is discovered, and the hope is that, by then, you will be fully confident in your new personality. I suggest that you take on the role of Jack Barclay's only relation – a cousin, and son of Jack Barclay's aunt. That way you can have any surname you like, and a family resemblance will be only natural. You will also then be able to formally identify him, make the funeral arrangements, collect your old belongings from the flat, and visit the laboratory to collect his – your – old papers. But you must be fully confident by then, as you will be very much in the public gaze and we can't afford any slips.\"\n\nLloyd looked concerned. \"I obviously have a lot of work to do before I can really start a new life, but that's what I want to do. I know what I want to do for a living as well, and I wondered if Sir Robin Algar might be able to help me with that.\"\n\n\"I'm sure he will,\" replied Clayton. \"We will all do everything we possibly can to help you on your way. I'll get Sir Robin to ring you on the secure phone in a day or so.\"\n\n***\n\nBill Clayton and Dusty Miller were getting on quite well. Miller had eventually stopped calling him Colonel, and had been to dinner with them a couple of times since he had first renewed acquaintances with Clayton's wife, Catherine. He'd also been persuaded to stop calling her 'The Cat', as she had been known when they had served together in the SAS.\n\nBut the fact was that Miller was getting bored. The more he talked about the old days, the more he yearned to get back on active operations. Not that he hadn't enjoyed his time with Section 11, short though it had been so far. He'd learned a lot about operations in an urban environment. Most of his experience of Close Combat Surveillance, as the military liked to call it, had been hidden in a ditch or from behind a sand-dune, which he judged to be much easier than from a motorbike or van parked in Acacia Avenue or wherever. But after Jarvis had been killed, there had been little left for him to do that he had considered worthwhile.\n\nFor his part, Head of Section 11 was very keen to keep him in the team. Clayton had done his best to find things for him to do, but with Dmitry Makienko assumed to be back home in Moscow, there hadn't been a lot on offer apart from a few bits of low-level support on other operations. Bill Clayton knew Miller was keen to get a new posting abroad, if possible to Afghanistan, where he could start doing some 'real' work again.\n\nIn an effort as much as anything to keep Miller occupied, Clayton had taken him with him on a couple of visits to Buscot Park, to see how Barclay was getting on.\n\n\"You don't mean Buscot Park down in the Cotswolds somewhere?\" asked an incredulous Miller when the first visit was suggested.\n\n\"That's the place. Do you know it?\"\n\n\"Know it? I should say I do. But what's Professor Barclay doing there?\"\n\n\"We use it as a safe house when we need to, and for all sorts of activities like specialist language training and so on. But he's there because it's a secret location, not listed as a military or civil service building, so he can be given his new identity there, well out of harm's way.\"\n\n\"I'll be damned!\" exclaimed Miller, shaking his head. \"You won't believe this, but that's where I first met the 'Cat' – I mean, Catherine.\"\n\n\"I didn't know she'd been there!\" Now it was Clayton's turn to be surprised. \"Why were you there?\"\n\n\"We were doing a course together.\"\n\n\"What sort of course?\"\n\nMiller looked embarrassed.\n\n\"If you must know, it was a Joint Services course on Interrogation and Resistance Techniques. Not just how to interrogate captured enemy, either, but more especially about how to resist their attempts to get you to talk if you were caught. Not at all pleasant, to be honest. But it's how your wife survived Iraq, and got home. I told you she was tough. The training course itself nearly broke me, I don't mind telling you.\"\n\n\"I had no idea,\" said Clayton.\n\n\"Rule 6,\" mused Miller. \"Never forget what a small world it is.\"\n\n\"Would you rather not come with me?\"\n\nThere was only the slightest hesitation.\n\n\"Of course I'll come with you. But not all the memories it will bring back will be happy ones, by any means.\"\n\nMiller was very quiet when they first went down to visit. He had looked around, almost nervously, on arrival.\n\n\"They wanted me to come back here as an instructor, you know, but at the time, I couldn't do it.\"\n\nClayton understood.\n\n\"And now?\"\n\n\"Perhaps. I rather fancy going abroad again, but if that doesn't come up – well, perhaps here, then.\"\n\n\"And I'd rather you stayed with my Section,\" said Clayton. \"If you worked here, though, I could call you up now and then. I have a bunch of chaps who act as reserves for emergencies, as you know. You could be on my reserve list. It would give you a break now and then.\"\n\n\"I'd certainly welcome that. Most of the instructors only did a short tour, anyway.\"\n\n\"I'll have a word with General Pearson-Jones, if you like.\"\n\n\"About me going to Afghanistan?\"\n\n\"If that's what you want.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Colonel. I'll have to think about all this.\"\n\n\"Rule 99, Miller.\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"Don't call me Colonel!\"\n\n***\n\nMr. Barclay had been no bother to his Battersea neighbours, so they said. Not noisy or anything, with the TV turned up like some. He kept himself to himself, and many people in the block had no real idea whether he was in or out, and even less of an idea what he did for a living. He hadn't really been there often enough for them to get to know him, anyway.\n\nBut a couple of the neighbours had complained recently. The people across the landing and the woman downstairs had all thought that there was something wrong with his drains, but couldn't get any reply from the door when they rang the bell. There was no reply from his phone, either, but that could have been because they were dialling the wrong number. The only number they had was that of the previous owner of the flat. One of the neighbours had been to the newspaper shop on the corner to check, but it seemed that he didn't have a newspaper. Funnily enough, the newspaper boy, who delivered to the flat opposite, had also mentioned that there was a bit of a pong on the landing, but the man in the shop had thought no more about it until someone from the police had called to see if he knew anything about Mr. Barclay.\n\nThat was after they had broken down the front door to get in. They soon discovered that it wasn't the drains, either.\n\nPolice Constable Jimmy Cartwright did not have a strong stomach at the best of times, and it nearly gave up on him completely as he ventured in to the hallway. The stench was overpowering, and it didn't need a degree in nuclear physics to work out that it was coming from the body stretched out on the kitchen floor.\n\nCartwright and his colleague decided not to go any further into the flat, in case they disturbed vital evidence or something, and backed off to the front door to use their radio to summon the murder squad. While they waited, they closed what was left of the door, thus depriving inquisitive neighbours of a view of the scene inside.\n\nThe boys from the murder squad didn't take long to turn up, and arrived with a team of forensic scientists in white coats and masks, which they really needed, and rolls of blue and white striped tape to seal off the area.\n\nTwo men in a British Telecom van parked down the road noticed the activity, and within minutes, Bill Clayton knew that Roger Barclay's body had been found.\n\n***\n\nDetective Sergeant Stan Wilberforce was in charge, and one glance was enough to tell him how Barclay had died. A man who apparently had never been good looking, now looked even worse. Mouth agape, open eyes staring at the ceiling, his head in a pool of now very congealed blood, he had a neat bullet hole drilled through his right temple. The exit hole near the other temple turned out not to be nearly so neat.\n\nThose not so fortunate as to have been issued with masks, clamped handkerchiefs over their faces to cover their nose and mouth, but it didn't make a lot of difference. There was no real way of telling how long Barclay had been lying there, especially as it had been so damned hot in the last week or so, but no doubt the pathologist would be able to work that out. They stood around waiting, while the Scenes of Crime Officer took photos from every conceivable angle. Wilberforce beckoned to one of his assistants, Detective Constable Al Smyth.\n\n\"Yes, Serg?\"\n\n\"Get hold of a vet, will you,\" commanded Sergeant Wilberforce.\n\n\"Pardon?\"\n\n\"A vet, man. Get hold of a vet.\"\n\n\"Where will I find a vet?\" queried Smyth.\n\n\"Try Yellow Pages,\" suggested the Sergeant. \"There's one over there under the phone.\" He pointed to a small table in the hall near where the front door had been.\n\n\"And when I get hold of a vet?\" asked the Constable.\n\n\"Ask him about goldfish,\" demanded Wilberforce.\n\n\"Goldfish?\"\n\nSmyth was now quite sure the stench had got the better of his boss.\n\n\"Yes, bloody goldfish,\" said the Sergeant, nodding towards the kitchen windowsill. \"There's a dead one floating in that bowl over there, and I want to know how long they can last in this heat without being fed.\"\n\nThe penny dropped. There could be a clue there somewhere. Eventually Smyth got hold of an expert on the phone.\n\n\"About two weeks, the man says, perhaps three, depending on the water,\" Smyth announced.\n\n\"Water?\"\n\n\"Yes water,\" replied Smyth. \"It's what they live in.\"\n\n\"Don't try and be smart with me, lad,\" said the Sergeant crossly. \"What about the water?\"\n\n\"They need it for oxygen, so the man said,\" reported Al Smyth, \"and the warmer the water, the less oxygen there is in it. So it depends on the water, how much there is of it, how many other goldfish are sharing it and how warm it is. In the sort of summer we're having, he reckons two weeks if they're lucky, perhaps three.\"\n\n\"Right,\" said Wilberforce. \"That'll have to do until the pathologist gets hold of this bloke. I wonder who he is?\"\n\n\"You boys can start looking around now if you like,\" said the SOCO. \"I've got all the pictures I need of the body, but I'll hang around in case you want something else.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said Wilberforce. \"Start with that goldfish-bowl.\"\n\n***\n\nDetective Sergeant Stan Wilberforce had been with the murder squad twelve years or more now, and generally speaking was highly regarded by his superiors. He usually managed to come up with a solution to most of the crimes he tackled, and was sharp enough to know what to follow up and what to ignore, so he didn't waste much time, either. It was usually the case that the more you discovered about the victim, the more likely it was that a motive for his or her untimely departure would become evident. He worked on the principle that if you could find a motive, then you could find the villain. Finding enough evidence to put the villain away was often not so easy, but at least you knew who you were after.\n\nBut the Barclay case was somehow not going the way it should. Wilberforce had been on the case three days now, and he was getting nowhere, fast.\n\nHe had decided to consult his governor, Detective Chief Inspector Harry Flower. He was another good detective, and Stan Wilberforce was sure that, between them, they could find a way through the apparent dead-end his team appeared to have reached.\n\nIt was quite late in the evening, and they were in the DCI's office, with a glass of Famous Grouse, and the bottle on the desk.\n\n\"I'm getting nowhere,\" admitted Wilberforce. \"We've found the bullet, and forensic have run a quick check on it for matches, but have come up with nothing.\"\n\n\"So it could be a new weapon on the patch,\" suggested Flower.\n\n\"Looks that way at the moment,\" agreed the Sergeant, \"although we're still checking, and Special Branch is getting help from Northern Ireland, just in case. It also looks as if it could be a weapon not often seen in this country, judging by the calibre.\"\n\n\"What about the crime scene,\" asked the DCI.\n\n\"Very odd, that is,\" replied Wilberforce, getting the photographs out of his folder and spreading them on the desk in front of him. \"Been over it with a toothcomb twice now, and not a trace of anything – no fingerprints other than a few from the victim and what I believe to be those of the previous owner, no sign of a struggle, and even more strange, no sign of how the murderer got in to the flat in the first place.\"\n\n\"Breaking the door down may not have helped your search for clues,\" said Flower.\n\n\"If he did get in through the front door, he was either let in or had a key, that's certain. And at the moment that seems the only solution.\"\n\n\"If Barclay knew the assassin, then that would explain why there was no struggle.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Wilberforce.\n\n\"So what do we know about Barclay?\" asked Harry Flower.\n\n\"Not a lot, to be honest,\" admitted the Sergeant, \"although I'd guess he was some kind of scientist. The first thing we did was look for his diary, and go through the phone book and all that. No sign of any family, and there were only four names in his phone book. We're paying them a visit. One's in California. But that was all – no home phone number, no brothers or sisters, no old Christmas cards or letters in the desk, - nothing. And only junk mail on the mat, plus a couple of science magazines.\"\n\n\"What about phone bills?\"\n\n\"Nothing found – we're checking with BT.\"\n\n\"Mobile? Surely he must have a mobile – everyone has a mobile these days.\"\n\n\"No sign of one,\" said Wilberforce. \"And no computer, either. Not even a laptop.\"\n\n\"Where did he work?\" asked Flower.\n\n\"Not a clue,\" admitted Wilberforce. \"We've found no pay slips, no tax returns, no business papers, - nothing. Not even a briefcase.\"\n\n\"It's almost as if the man didn't exist,\" pondered Flower, sipping his scotch.\n\n\"He doesn't, now,\" said the detective. \"And nobody's come looking for him either.\"\n\n\"Early days?\" queried Flower. \"You only found him three days ago, after all.\"\n\n\"But he's been dead just over three weeks,\" protested Wilberforce. \"Someone somewhere must have noticed he's not around any more.\"\n\n\"What about behaviour patterns?\" asked his boss.\n\n\"Haven't been able to establish any, yet. None of the neighbours really knew him. Kept himself to himself, anyway, so they haven't been a lot of help, but he didn't seem to leave the flat or return at any regular times – not a nine-till-five job, so it seems. Seemed to be away quite a lot. We're checking with the local travel agency, but they're only a small outfit, and it's taking them time to go through their records.\"\n\n\"Be useful to know where he went,\" commented the DCI.\n\n\"Be useful to know anything about the man, frankly,\" admitted Wilberforce. \"He doesn't seem to have a criminal record, and we haven't found any credit cards either.\"\n\n\"What about the postman?\"\n\n\"Checked. So far as he can remember, mainly junk mail, and not a lot of that.\"\n\nFlower sat thoughtfully. \"Have you checked the missing persons register?\"\n\n\"Being checked.\"\n\n\"It's almost as if the man deliberately wanted to remain invisible from prying eyes,\" he said eventually.\n\n\"He certainly didn't live in a goldfish bowl,\" agreed the Sergeant. \"It looks as if he went out of his way to remain anonymous.\"\n\n\"What sort of man would want to do that?\"\n\n\"Probably up to no good,\" suggested the detective.\n\n\"Or perhaps he shouldn't be here at all.\"\n\n\"You mean an illegal immigrant or something?\"\n\nFlower nodded, frowning. \"It would be useful to know where he came from.\"\n\n\"He doesn't look foreign,\" observed Wilberforce. \"What there was left of him, that is. And Barclay isn't exactly a foreign name, either.\"\n\n\"Could be a spy,\" said Flower, quietly. \"Perhaps he was a spy. Maybe I'll have a word with Special Branch.\"\n\n\"I suppose spies have to live somewhere,\" commented Wilberforce. \"Special Branch will have contacts in the Security Services, so it might be worth checking.\"\n\n\"If Barclay was a spook of some sort, we could be looking for a foreigner, with a key to Barclay's flat,\" said Flower.\n\n\"And a gun we haven't seen before.\" Wilberforce sighed. \"As if this case wasn't difficult enough already.\"\n\n\"We're only guessing,\" Flower reminded him.\n\n\"We're not guessing at the fact that there are simply no clues, or that it wasn't an opportunist murder, or a family feud, or that Barclay was almost an invisible man, or that the villain had a key and a gun with no previous record, and that he probably knew Barclay because there was no struggle.\" Wilberforce sighed again, and topped up his glass. \"I'm only guessing, too, that he was some kind of scientist, judging from the magazines.\"\n\n\"Where do you look for missing scientists?\"\n\n\"Pass!\"\n\n\"I suppose somebody did actually live there,\" queried Flower.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Perhaps it had been bought to let. The flat. Or perhaps it was some kind of holiday retreat, not lived in regularly.\"\n\n\"That's a very expensive part of London, squire,\" said Wilberforce. \"You'd need quite a bankroll to buy a place like that and not live in it.\"\n\nAlthough it was late, Flower's phone rang.\n\n\"DCI Flower,\" he said, as he picked it up. As he listened, he frowned. After a time, he said 'thank you' and hung up.\n\nWilberforce could sense something was wrong.\n\n\"What's up?\" he asked.\n\n\"You're not going to like this, Stan,\" replied his boss. \"That was the pathologist. He says there are no powder marks on Barclay's temple where the bullet entered. That means that he wasn't shot at close range after all.\"\n\n\"Shit,\" exclaimed the detective. \"I never noticed that. In fact, it never even occurred to me to look.\"\n\nThe two men sat in silence for a few moments.\n\n\"But it just has to be close range, dammit,\" protested Wilberforce at last. \"The flat's too small for it to be anything else.\"\n\nHe thumbed through the set of photographs.\n\n\"Look at the body,\" he said pointing. \"It's in the kitchen – just about the smallest room in the house. From the angle of the body, whoever shot Barclay was also in the kitchen. He couldn't have been targeted from the hall or the adjoining living room.\"\n\nHis boss studied the picture.\n\n\"What if the force of the bullet hitting him spun him round?\" he asked. \"He could have been sideways on to the living room, and spun round to fall where he was.\"\n\n\"No way,\" protested the detective. \"It was a small calibre bullet and not heavy enough to do that.\"\n\n\"High velocity? That could have done it, surely.\"\n\n\"If it had been a high velocity shot, the bullet wouldn't have been on the floor where I picked it up, it would have been buried in the wall behind him,\" said Wilberforce. \"It just has to be close range.\"\n\n\"So why no powder round the entry point?\"\n\nWilberforce shook his head.\n\n\"Looking at these photographs,\" said DCI Flower, \"I'd say that the assassin was between Barclay and the window over the sink, wouldn't you?\"\n\n\"More than likely, judging by where the body fell,\" agreed the detective.\n\n\"Was the window open?\" asked Flower.\n\n\"Not that I noticed,\" replied Wilberforce. \"It was as hot as hell in that flat, and there was even a dead fish in the goldfish bowl on the windowsill.\"\n\n\"Why did you get the SOCO to take a picture of the bloody goldfish bowl anyway?\" asked his boss. \"Keen on fish or something, are you?\"\n\n\"I'd noticed the dead one floating in it,\" replied Wilberforce, \"and wondered how long it might have been dead.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the DCI. \"And how did you find out?\"\n\n\"Phoned a vet, who knew about goldfish,\" replied Wilberforce.\n\n\"And what did he say?\"\n\n\"It all depended on the water, apparently,\" said the detective.\n\n\"Water?\"\n\n\"That's right. It's what they live in,\" said Wilberforce, immediately wishing he hadn't. \"It seems that they get their oxygen from the water, and the warmer the water the less oxygen there is. He reckoned about two to three weeks in that heat without being fed, so that gave me a clue as to how long Barclay might have been dead.\"\n\nHarry Flower idly looked at the photo of the goldfish bowl again, thinking that Wilberforce wasn't so stupid after all.\n\n\"It looks to me as if that sash window was open a bit,\" said Flower, squinting. \"You can just see the top sash behind the goldfish bowl.\"\n\nWilberforce looked at the picture.\n\n\"Could be open an inch or so,\" he agreed. \"Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"I was just thinking,\" mused the Chief Inspector. \"I was just wondering if perhaps the villain might not have been in the flat at all. No evidence of a struggle, no fingerprints, no signs of forced entry, no powder marks on the wound. Perhaps he wasn't even in the flat. Perhaps he wasn't even in the building. Perhaps he was a sniper.\"\n\nWilberforce sucked his teeth. \"From the block of flats across the car park,\" he almost whispered. \"Shot through the open window.\"\n\n\"Bloody good shot if that's what did happen.\"\n\n\"Telescopic sight and a tripod? All he had to do was wait until Barclay walked into view. I'm going back to the flat.\"\n\n\"I'll come with you,\" said Flower, finishing his whisky.\n\nHis driver was in the outer office, patiently waiting as he often did, and reading the Evening Standard for the third time.\n\n\"Where to, Governor?\" he asked.\n\n\"Battersea,\" replied Flower. \"Block of flats called Alberta Mansions, off Albert Bridge Road. Quick as you like, Bob.\"\n\nThey were there in fifteen minutes, even without the blue lights on and the siren going. Bob was a Londoner, had been a driver at Scotland Yard most of his working life, and knew every London back road there was.\n\nThe two detectives climbed the stairs to the second floor, where the duty Constable saluted smartly and let them into the flat.\n\n\"Place hasn't been touched,\" said Wilberforce. \"Apart from getting the body to the morgue, it's just as we found it, more or less. The agent's getting a bit fidgety, but we can't find a next-of-kin to clear out Barclay's stuff, so he'll just have to wait.\"\n\nThey went straight into the kitchen, dried blood still on the tiled floor.\n\n\"There you are,\" said Flower, pointing. \"Sash window over the sink open at the top.\"\n\n\"Only a couple of inches,\" observed Wilberforce. \"Not enough fresh air to keep the fish alive.\" He nodded towards the dead goldfish still floating in its watery grave.\n\n\"Bugger the fish,\" said Flower. \"Let's have a look at that block of flats opposite.\"\n\n\"Not a difficult shot from there,\" commented Wilberforce. \"A bit of an angle, range about - what - seventy five meters across the car park between the two blocks?\"\n\n\"About that,\" agreed Flower. \"We should find out who lives in the flat immediately opposite.\"\n\n\"Not opposite, boss,\" said Wilberforce. \"One floor up – third not second.\"\n\n\"Why's that?\" queried the DCI.\n\n\"Let me show you,\" said the detective. \"I'll stand here, where Barclay would have been standing, and you stand behind me. Barclay was a short chap – about up to my shoulder, so you bend down and look at the flats opposite through the open window from my shoulder height.\"\n\n\"I see what you mean,\" said Flower, stooping to look over Wilberforce's shoulder. \"The sniper, if that's what it was, would need to have been on the third floor, and aimed down to get Barclay through this open window. And I remember the pathologist said on the phone that the bullet entered at a slight angle.\"\n\n\"Now you tell me,\" grumbled Stan Wilberforce.\n\n\"We need to get into that flat,\" said Flower.\n\n\"And quick,\" agreed the detective. \"The one directly opposite has got the lights on, but the one we want seems to be in darkness.\"\n\n\"I'll use the car radio to get this organised,\" offered Flower. \"You're in charge of this case, so any suggestions?\"\n\n\"I want that block sealed off, but as quietly and covertly as possible. Don't mind people entering the block, but nobody leaves. We'll need some heavies to take the flat door down, and an Armed Response Unit to be first in, just in case. After that, forensics into that room opposite – looks like the kitchen – in particular looking for traces of powder near the window. I doubt they'll find the cartridge. And plenty of plods to keep the neighbours out, and the area press officer in case the media turns up. O.K.?\"\n\n\"Sounds about right,\" said the DCI. \"I'll get it organised. Do you mind if I hang around and watch?\"\n\n\"Be my guest,\" said Wilberforce. \"If you're right about the sniper, then this could be a contract killing of some sort, and we don't often get those.\"\n\n\"And forensics haven't identified the weapon, yet, either,\" added Flower.\n\n\"Let's go!\"\n\nIt didn't take long for reinforcements to arrive. Nobody much seemed to be aware that the building was being sealed off – the police vans parked down side streets, and it was dark anyway. No sirens, no flashing lights – \"as quick and as quiet as you can,\" Wilberforce had said. It was a well-rehearsed operation, as the men from the two Armed Response Units sprinted up the stairs, broke down the door and spread out into every room almost without a pause. The neighbours heard the noise of splintering wood, but soon beat a hasty retreat back into their flats when ordered to do so by the policemen with Heckler and Koch automatic carbines.\n\nThe flat was empty, as expected, and most of the armed men were able to leave the scene quickly, leaving the white-clad forensic science team to start their painstaking work in the kitchen. It looked like being a long job. There were no immediate signs of anything suspicious – just an empty flat, that's all. No powder marks near the window, no cartridge case on the floor, and no obvious signs of a forced entry. They soon discovered that there were no fresh fingerprints, either, and no footprints worth talking about on the dusty floor.\n\nThe two detectives were no nearer than they ever had been to solving the mystery, but they remained convinced that the murderer had struck from that kitchen in the opposite block of flats. There could be no other explanation. They also concluded that whoever had carried out the killing had been no amateur. He had not only been an excellent marksman, but had known how to cover his tracks after the event. Their only hope now was that the forensic team would turn up something useful.\n\nNone the wiser for their night's work, Wilberforce and Flower went home.\n\nSo did the two men on a motorbike, who had seen the whole thing from across the road. As they drove quietly away, another biker arrived to take their place, this time keeping watch from a side street at the back of the flats. They, and their colleagues, had been hanging around the block of flats for a few days now, watching what was going on. Not that anyone had noticed.\n\n***\nCHAPTER FIFTEEN \\- NEW FRIENDS, OLD ENEMIES\n\nRetired Air Commodore Mark Perkins was a frequent visitor to Buscot Park now that he had been given the responsibility for overseeing the transformation of Professor Jack Barclay into Dr. Roger Lloyd. The skin graft over Barclay's scar was healing quickly after his surgery in Harley Street, and it seemed almost certain that the scar would be invisible to all but the closest scrutiny in the future.\n\nDr. Roger Lloyd, as he was now known, was making good progress in other aspects of his makeover, too. He certainly seemed happy with the way things were going, and had thrown himself into the task with great enthusiasm, not least because he was still alive, and wanted to stay that way. He was also quite enjoying the break from the recent pressures he had been suffering, and certainly regarded his stay at Buscot as something of a holiday. He had comfortable accommodation, good food, and excellent tutors, all in a delightful rural setting.\n\nApart from Doc Perkins, he had several other visitors as well, and was always particularly pleased to see Clayton, who he regarded as something of a saviour. He had immediately got on well with Miller, too, and on their first meeting they quickly struck up a firm friendship. Lloyd had been surprised when he learned that Miller had been to Buscot himself, since it had never occurred to him to wonder what else went on at the discreet, if not secret, government establishment. He had been intrigued to learn of the vastly different experience that Miller had undergone at Buscot, in another part of that rural 'safe house', and they frequently went on long walks together in the extensive grounds of the house.\n\nMiller himself found it therapeutic to discuss his stay there and the rigours of the course he had attended, while Lloyd needed the exercise, to practice walking in his built up shoes, and to get used to his walking stick. One shoe was slightly more built up than the other, and although neither of them added much to his height, they were enough to make a difference to his appearance and to give him a slight limp. At first, the shoes gave him cramp, but he had got over that now. Although he was getting used to his slightly ungainly gait, he secretly wondered if he would ever be brave enough to run for a bus. But he had quite quickly got used to the shoes, and a cobbler, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, was now busy making him several pairs in different styles. He had even turned up one day with a pair of special Wellington boots, and some carpet slippers. He didn't think he would ever wear the trainers, but you never know.\n\nLloyd was now starting to grow a decent set of whiskers, which was quickly beginning to look rather better than just a bit of stubble. There was already enough for the hairdresser to start grooming it into something quite smart, including a goatee beard. Roger Lloyd quite liked his new look. His hair had been tidied up a bit too, and the parting shifted to the other side. It was a nice grey, and he was having it shorter than before. In truth, he hadn't often had time to get it cut on a regular basis at all recently, but the barber who came in to see Lloyd from time to time was taking infinite care to ensure that he no longer looked like the old Professor Barclay. It had been decided that there was probably no need to flare his nostrils or build up his cheek bones after all. His spectacles were sufficient to give his nose a new look, and the beard took care of the rest.\n\nBuscot Park was owned and run by the National Trust, and although still the home of Lord Faringdon and his family, the grounds and parts of the house were occasionally opened to the public. Dr. Lloyd was therefore getting used to meeting people, none of whom ever gave him a second glance except to wish him 'good-day' as they passed. After a while, he went out of his way to get into conversation with visitors, rather than avoid them as he had in his early days there. This was doing his confidence a power of good, although he had to admit that on his first real outing, to Burford, he felt as if he was in a goldfish bowl, with everyone looking at him. Not that anybody was, of course. But he felt very self-conscious, nevertheless. It was quite a nerve-wracking experience, going into a shop for the first time with his stick and glasses. But he easily bought a bottle of sherry from the off-licence to have in his room at Buscot, and, a bit further down the main street, a packet of nuts and some crisps from the small supermarket to go with his evening aperitif. His confidence was growing all the time.\n\nIt was immediately after this outing that the police found his brother, Roger Barclay, in the Battersea flat where he had lain for over three weeks.\n\nClayton and Miller both went immediately to Buscot, by helicopter, to break the news to Lloyd.\n\n\"We now come to a crucial part of this whole exercise,\" said Clayton. \"It will mean a difficult few days for you, Roger, but we have to announce your death later today.\"\n\n\"What will you say?\"\n\n\"Something to the effect that a world-famous nuclear physicist has been found murdered in his London flat. They may have noticed that your lecture to the Royal Society was cancelled, but we have to make quite sure that the Russians know that their mission was a success, so as to ensure your future safety. Once that's been established, you will be free to start your new life.\"\n\n\"And when shall I read my own obituary?\" Lloyd almost joked.\n\n\"We shall have to make the announcement tonight – or rather, the police will, in time for the late news bulletins and tomorrow's papers.\" replied Clayton. \"In a day or so, we shall have to persuade the Police to call off their investigation, since we know who did it. It will then be necessary for you to come forward as Professor Jack Barclay's cousin – we'll tell you when, if we may – for formal identification. If there is any family likeness in spite of your 'new look', it won't matter as you are supposed to be related. After that, we shall arrange a coroner's inquest. That will probably be held at the Westminster Coroner's Court in Horseferry Road, at the top end of Marsham Street, near Victoria. You may need to attend, but hopefully not. We shall be able to brief the coroner privately before the hearing, so I would expect him to bring in a verdict of unlawful killing by a person or persons unknown. With any luck, he may also agree to hold the inquest 'in camera'. Once those formalities have been completed, the body can be released to you and there can be an immediate funeral, which again we can help you to arrange if you wish.\"\n\n\"I hope it all turns out as easy as you make it sound,\" said Roger Lloyd.\n\n\"It will be easy,\" said Clayton, reassuringly, \"except that you have to remember that you will be identifying yourself, attending your own inquest if you do need to go, and then going to your own funeral. You must, by then, have completely taken on the identity of Dr. Roger Lloyd.\"\n\n\"I honestly think I have, already. I feel quite happy with my new 'self' now.\"\n\n\"There is one other thing we need to do before we formally announce your death, and that is to tell a chosen few that you are, in fact, alive and well. We have been through your list and agree to everyone on it except your friend at the Lawrence Livermore University in California. I'm afraid he must not be told, otherwise your cover could well be blown.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Let me just remind you that the last time you were at the University, you had two KGB agents for company. I'm not saying your friend was responsible, but somebody there told them, and we have been unable to positively establish his trustworthiness with any absolute degree of certainty. The Americans have helped, but there remains an element of doubt, so we must err on the side of caution. It's in your own interest that we do so, of course.\"\n\n\"So be it then.\"\n\n\"We are arranging for all the others to be briefed personally later this afternoon.\"\n\n\"What about the two colleagues who I hope to be working with overseas?\"\n\n\"They will be told later today as well. One of our team has been specially briefed, and is even now flying out to meet them.\"\n\n***\n\nIt had taken some days for the news of Dmitry Makienko's return to filter through the system to the Cabinet Office, and then Bill Clayton.\n\nSir Robin Algar rang Clayton to tell him.\n\n\"What the hell's he doing back here?\" said Clayton. \"He's only been away a week or two!\"\n\n\"Odd, isn't it,\" replied Algar. \"Even odder, is the fact that he's gone to the Trade Delegation offices at the Consulate in Highgate, and not to the Embassy in Kensington.\"\n\n\"How do you explain that?\"\n\n\"I can't. My only conclusion is that he might think he will be less conspicuous there than in the Embassy, but don't ask me why he needs to be. The fact is that he was not expelled by the UK Government, or designated a prohibited immigrant, so there was no way of preventing him from returning. And they haven't claimed diplomatic status for him again, either, probably because they know it would have been refused.\"\n\n\"But he's one of their top FSB men. They don't usually hide them away.\"\n\n\"True, but there are others in Highgate. It's a good front for them, especially if they are involved in industrial espionage.\"\n\n\"That's not his trade,\" said Clayton.\n\n\"I understand from MI5's Moscow station that he was given a bit of a bollocking when he got back, and sent for some pretty intensive re-training, probably more as a punishment than as a necessity.\"\n\n\"But that doesn't explain why he was sent back here so quickly. Why here, and not some other place?\"\n\n\"They're trying to check, and our man here also has his ear to the ground for us. I've asked Wilfred Forsyth to have a word with the Ambassador, to express our displeasure. I doubt whether we shall learn anything, though.\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence.\n\n\"How's this for a theory, then,\" said 'S'. \"If you ask me, Makienko's back here because either he or his people in Moscow don't believe Barclay is dead. He's been sent back to check, and if he finds that the Professor is still alive and well, to finish the job he started.\"\n\nThere was another pause.\n\n\"You could just be right, y'know.\"\n\n\"I'll have a bit of a brainstorming here, and put Dusty Miller back on to Dr. Roger Lloyd, I think. Just to be on the safe side.\"\n\n\"That's probably sensible.\"\n\n\"Can you have a word with 'M', and get him to arrange for his people to keep an eye on Makienko for us?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"I'll have people at the inquest tomorrow as well, just to see who turns up. And in force at the cremation on Thursday.\"\n\n\"If Makienko is at either event, then at least we'll know why he's back.\"\n\n\"Yes. But then what do we do? We can't shield Lloyd for the rest of his life.\"\n\n\"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, if we do,\" said the Cabinet Secretary, ending the red phone conversation.\n\n***\n\nForsyth rang the Russian Ambassador.\n\n\"I thought I would speak to you on the phone, Mr. Nevsky, rather than put you to the trouble of asking you call here again.\"\n\n\"That is considerate of you, Sir William. How may I help this time?\"\n\n\"We are most concerned, Mr. Ambassador, to discover that Dmitry Makienko has returned to this country.\"\n\n\"Has he really?\" asked Nevsky, feigning surprise. \"You mean the man who used to be our second secretary in the commercial department? That Makienko?\"\n\n\"The very same,\" confirmed Forsyth.\n\n\"Are you quite sure?\"\n\n\"Absolutely.\"\n\n\"Well! You do surprise me. I have certainly not been told, and neither have I seen him about the Embassy. I shall have to make enquiries and get back to you.\"\n\n\"You will not have seen him about the Embassy, Yuri, because he appears to be based at the Trade Delegation.\"\n\n\"In Highgate? Really!\"\n\n\"Let's not play games, Ambassador. You will recall that Her Majesty's Government only pulled back from expelling the man on the strength of your assurances that he would leave this country the day after our meeting.\"\n\n\"Which he did.\"\n\n\"Exactly. But we did not expect that your government would see fit to send him back here almost immediately.\"\n\n\"I am not sure that my government has done so. As I said, I shall need to make enquires.\"\n\n\"Please do so, then, with all speed. Let me remind you that, when we last spoke about this, I was able to show you evidence which linked him with the murder of one of our public servants.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes. The faked photographs.\"\n\n\"You know very well they were not fakes, Ambassador, and I can now tell you that we have direct and positive forensic evidence that Makienko did indeed carry out the crime.\"\n\n\"And what might that be, can I ask?\"\n\n\"You may ask, but I shall not tell you. That will be revealed in a court of law, probably at the Old Bailey, when your man is charged with murder.\"\n\n\"Come, come, Sir Wilfred. Surely it will not come to that?\"\n\n\"That depends on you, Mr. Nevsky. You said you needed to make enquiries because once again, it seems, your officials have been less than honest with you, and have failed to brief you. I must ask you formally to contact me within the hour with an explanation of this totally unacceptable behaviour on the part of your government. If you are unable to provide a satisfactory explanation for the man's continuing presence in this country, then you will leave me with only two possible courses of action. One would be to demand his immediate expulsion, and the other to arrange his immediate arrest. I shall make sure that whichever I decide gets the maximum possible publicity, and that your own role in this unsavoury affair is left in no doubt.\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence from the Ambassador.\n\n\"I shall ring you within the hour,\" said Nevsky quietly.\n\nWhen he did so it was to explain that Makienko was in London in a private capacity, no doubt as a tourist, that he had travelled on his personal passport, that he had no diplomatic status whatsoever, and that he was not working at the Trade Delegation, but staying nearby with friends in Highgate.\n\n\"I have, however,\" continued the Ambassador, \"in the interests of furthering the good relations which currently exist between our two countries, issued instructions that Makienko is to be contacted immediately and instructed to leave the country forthwith. Again.\"\n\n\"And not to return,\" insisted Forsyth.\n\n\"And not to return,\" confirmed Nevsky.\n\n\"We shall watch developments with interest, Mr. Ambassador, and I shall seek a further meeting with you in this office if there is any evidence that your instructions are not being carried out with all haste.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir Wilfred. I understand perfectly.\"\n\nOnce again, Yuri Nevsky had come off second best in a confrontation with the man from the Foreign Office.\n\nNevsky had always been one of those who subscribed to the view that, in these days, Ambassadors were more social than crucial.\n\nHe was fast beginning to change his mind.\n\n***\n\nClayton called together his top team, and asked Barbara to get Miller along as well.\n\n\"There's an old friend of yours back in town, Miller,\" said 'S'\n\n\"Makienko?\" he asked immediately.\n\n\"What made you think that?\"\n\n\"Just a hunch, that's all.\"\n\n\"Well, I wish you'd shared it with us. He's back at the Trade Delegation in Highgate. Arrived a few days ago, apparently, travelling as a tourist on his own passport, not as a diplomat.\"\n\n\"It doesn't really surprise me,\" said Miller. \"We were too quiet for too long about Barclay's murder. They must have smelt a rat.\"\n\n\"In all honesty, we couldn't do anything else until the police found his body, and we needed all the time we could get as well to make sure Dr. Roger Lloyd was ready to face his public. Barclay's nervous breakdown was the best we could do.\"\n\n\"There shouldn't be any doubt about his death now,\" said Nick Marsden. \"It's a big story in all the papers, especially the tabloids, with photographs.\"\n\n\"OK,\" said Clayton. \"Now let's think about this. Makienko is back, for one reason or another, either officially or as a tourist, which is what he claims. Nobody will believe that, though. The fact is that Makienko must be back in London because he, or someone in Moscow, believes Professor Barclay is still alive. And I agree with you, Miller, that they would be quite justified in reaching that conclusion until now. So the question is, if Makienko is still after Barclay, or Lloyd as he now is, who should we keep an eye on? One, or the other, or both?\"\n\n\"Makienko doesn't know me, but I know him,\" said Miller. \"I also know Lloyd, so I could keep a close watch on him, and spot the Russian if he should show up.\"\n\n\"If Makienko does think Lloyd is Barclay, he's going to have another go at getting rid of him,\" said Newell. \"I can't see him doing that at the coroner's court, but I suppose the crematorium might present an opportunity.\"\n\n\"The Russians will need to be sure Barclay is still alive before they risk doing anything,\" said Doc Perkins. \"Lloyd is not at all like Barclay now, and in any case we don't think Makienko ever met the Professor anyway. He will have photos of Barclay of course, but they won't be enough. So he will have to rely on inside information.\"\n\n\"If you mean someone telling him, that will mean we have an informer in our camp,\" said 'S'. \"And Jarvis is dead, so it can't be him.\"\n\n\"Someone told them Barclay was going to California,\" Newell reminded the meeting, \"otherwise there would not have been KGB men at the reception in the university,\"\n\n\"I must say, I had always assumed an American source for that, and we've been careful to make sure they all believe Barclay has been killed,\" said Clayton.\n\n\"If the Russians can turn Jarvis, though, they can turn anyone, even if Jarvis was blackmailed.\" said Marsden. \"I think we need to get MI5 to mount a 'mole' hunt, and pretty quickly. Meanwhile, we have to assume that the Russians know what's going on, and that they know Lloyd is Barclay under another name. For us to do otherwise would be plain stupid.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" said Clayton. \"The possibility of an informer in our midst has worried me for some time, I must be honest. Stay behind afterwards Nick, and we'll talk about it.\"\n\n\"As a matter of interest,\" asked Miller, \"what's Lloyd going to do for a living when the dust settles?\"\n\n\"He's said he wants a change, and has asked to join the UK team at the CERN project in Switzerland. He knows of a couple of people there – fellow particle physicists – and Sir Robin Algar has arranged for him to go out there immediately after the cremation, which in turn will be immediately after the inquest. He obviously can't go back to his old job in the nuclear fusion research field at Culham, although he can continue to help as a consultant while he's abroad. A few people on his old project will know of his new 'alias', and know too that they can call on him from time to time if they must. Once the heat is off, there is no reason why Lloyd shouldn't even visit Harwell now and then, if he needs to.\"\n\n\"I'll go with him to Switzerland,\" said Miller, without being asked. \"I shall also need to be in the coroner's court and at the cremation, since I know what Dmitry Makienko looks like, and everyone else has only seen the photos I took of him. I'll bet he turns up at one or the other.\"\n\n\"I think we should deploy quite a few people at the crematorium. I can't imagine that Makienko will attend the service or anything that brazen, but he could well be in the grounds somewhere with a pair of field glasses, and we need to be able to spot him if he does turn up,\" said Newell. \"I'll organise that if you like.\"\n\nClayton nodded, and the meeting broke up. Commander Nick Marsden stayed behind.\n\n\"Close the door Nick, and grab a seat.\"\n\nThere was an awkward silence for a moment,\n\n\"This is about Barbara, isn't it.\" It was a statement rather than a question from Marsden.\n\n\"It could be, Nick,\" agreed Clayton. \"Or it could be about you, or me or even Barbara's mother.\"\n\n\"I suppose so,\" agreed Marsden. \"It's probably the same thing that's worried the life out of me in the last few days that's worrying you.\"\n\n\"How did the Russians know that Jarvis was Donald's father?\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" agreed Marsden. \"How the hell did they know? Who can possibly have told them?\"\n\n\"There aren't that many possibilities, are there?\" postured Clayton.\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Marsden. \"Barbara and Alan Jarvis obviously knew, but Jarvis was hardly likely to tell anyone, let alone the Russians, for exactly the reason that it would lay him open to blackmail, and put his career at risk.\"\n\n\"And Barbara?\" probed Clayton. \"You are closer to her than anyone. What do you think?\"\n\n\"I don't know what to think, to be honest, Bill. In spite of the fact that we are supposed to be getting married at some time, I have done my honest best to be objective about this, to put the job first and all that jazz, but I simply cannot see any motive on Barbara's part. What would she possibly gain by telling the Russians something that nobody else knew about? Revenge on Jarvis? If she'd wanted that, she would have buggered his career sooner by telling me, or Sir Robin Algar or someone. Telling the Russians makes no sense to me. The fact is she told nobody until you stumbled across the possibility and forced her into admitting the fact.\"\n\n\"So that puts me in the frame. I could have told the Russians,\" said Clayton. \"And so could you, and so, possibly, could her mother, if in fact she knew Jarvis was Donald's father. Do you think she did?\"\n\n\"I have no idea, Bill. I'm sure Barbara would tell us if we asked, but again we come back to the question of motive. Unless there's a vital piece of information we're missing, nobody on that list of five people seems to have the slightest motive for telling anyone, let alone the Russians.\"\n\n\"I tend to agree,\" said Clayton. \"So how else could they have found out?\"\n\n\"I've been thinking about that,\" said Marsden. \"Just suppose – only suppose for a minute - that the Russians had been tailing Jarvis for some time. They would have seen him visit Barbara's place and seen him with the boy.\"\n\n\"So what?\" queried Clayton.\n\n\"So if they were trying to get something on the man, perhaps with a view to blackmail, they would naturally have been suspicious, wouldn't they?\"\n\n\"Keep going.\"\n\n\"So they would wonder, as you or I would wonder, why Jarvis had an interest in Donald. They would also know, or soon find out, that the identity of Donald's father was not common knowledge – in fact a carefully guarded secret.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So they might just put two and two together, and set about trying to find a connection.\"\n\nClayton nodded thoughtfully. \"If they suspected that Jarvis could have been Donald's father, they would need to prove it one way or the other. That means they would either need someone to admit to the fact, or they would need documentary evidence.\"\n\n\"Keep going.\" It was Marsden who challenged Clayton this time.\n\n\"Documents,\" said Clayton quietly. \"What documents could there be, apart from a birth certificate, perhaps?\"\n\n\"Bloody hell, Bill! That's it! The boy's birth certificate is almost bound to show the father's name!\"\n\n\"Tell you what, Nick. The Family Research Centre or something like that – the old Public Record Office, - is just round the corner from here. Why don't you nip over and see what you can find.\"\n\n\"I know the place! I've walked past it a hundred times. I'm off!\"\n\n\"Wait!\" commanded Clayton.\n\nNick Marsden sat down again.\n\n\"The other option is just to ask Barbara,\" said Clayton simply. \"Why don't you do that instead?\"\n\nMarsden thought for a moment.\n\n\"That would alert her to the fact that we suspect she could be a spy of some sort,\" said Marsden. \"God forbid that she is, but let's not put her on notice and on her guard, just in case.\"\n\n\"Off you go then,\" said Clayton with a grin. \"And thanks for your loyalty, Nick.\"\n\nMarsden was back in under an hour.\n\n\"It seems that in the case of an illegitimate child,\" he reported, \"the child can take either the mother's or father's surname. Donald was christened using Barbara's maiden name, so it is not necessary to include the father's name on a birth certificate. Either the mother's or the father's will do, but it doesn't have to show both.\"\n\n\"Bugger!\" said Clayton.\n\n\"Furthermore,\" continued Marsden, almost too cheerfully, \"it takes up to five days to get a certified copy of a birth certificate, even by the urgent route, which also costs a fortune.\"\n\n\"For heaven's sake,\" exclaimed an exasperated Clayton.\n\n\"Gladys would be proud of them,\" said Marsden with a broad grin. \"However, I was able to show them all the ID cards and warrant cards in the world, and successfully demanded to see the chap in charge. Under threat of an immediate phone call to the Cabinet Secretary who, as head of the Civil Service is also his boss, the man was kind enough, under the additional threat of spending the rest of his life in the Tower of London, to make a few quick phone calls to somewhere in Liverpool where all the originals are kept.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"And Alan Jarvis is named as the father,\" announced Marsden triumphantly. \"Not only that, but a copy of Donald's birth certificate was ordered – and paid for- some four weeks ago, and sent to an address in Highgate.\"\n\n\"The Russian Consulate, I bet,\" said Clayton. \"Well done Nick.\"\n\n\"Don't let's forget that there's still a mole about somewhere.\"\n\n\"Could be anywhere – Cabinet Office, Foreign Office, even the laboratories at Harwell and Culham. Let's hope MI5 track him down before too much more damage is done.\"\n\n\"At least Barbara seems to be off the hook,\" said Nick. \"I think I'll take the lady out to dinner somewhere special tonight.\"\n\n***\n\nNobody saw the Russian, Dmitry Makienko, at the coroners court, although that didn't mean he wasn't there. He could have been anywhere, even across the road in the White Horse and Bower, watching who came and went from inside the pub. According to their informant, he certainly wasn't at the Trade Mission that afternoon, but he would not have spotted Roger Lloyd even if he had been there. Lloyd wasn't required to attend the court, as it happened.\n\nNot many people attended the service in the Chapel of Rest at the Crematorium, either, although there were several people in the Garden of Remembrance. From the photographs they had been given, one or two of them thought that they might have seen Makienko, but weren't sure.\n\nDusty Miller recognised him there, though. No doubt about it.\n\n***\n\nDetective Chief Inspector Harry Flower wasn't often summoned to the office of Deputy Assistant Commissioner Ian Jenkins. For that matter, Head of Special Branch wasn't often summoned to the office of the Director General of M15, either. But he had been, and now had a rather difficult message to pass on to DCI Flower.\n\n\"Come in Harry – grab a seat,\" Jenkins welcomed Flower cheerily.\n\n\"Thanks. How can I help?\"\n\n\"I might actually be able to help you, as it happens,\" replied Jenkins.\n\n\"That'll be nice,\" said Flower, suspiciously.\n\n\"Tell me,\" enquired the DAC. \"How are you getting on with the Barclay case? The murder in Battersea.\"\n\n\"It's a bit slow, as it happens. Taking its time. We know who it is and what he does – did – for a living. We know how he was killed and roughly when, and there's been an inquest and a cremation. But we've no real idea about the weapon used, although we think it was foreign. And even less of an idea about a motive or who did it. What's your interest?\"\n\n\"I don't have one directly,\" came the reply. \"But I was summoned to Lambeth this morning for a personal meeting with 'M'. We're under orders to back off.\"\n\n\"Back off? You mean drop the case?\"\n\n\"That's the message,\" replied the special branch chief.\n\n\"But you can't just drop a murder enquiry,\" protested Flower, \"even if there has been an inquest. And that was a funny business, too, since you mention it.\"\n\n\"I didn't,\" said Jenkins. \"You did.\"\n\n\"Well, a right funny business that inquest was. If you ask me, the coroner had been fixed, and told what to do.\"\n\n\"You're right. He had. And now we're being told what to do.\"\n\nFlower scratched his head.\n\n\"This has been an odd case from the start, if you ask me. Any idea at all what's going on?\"\n\n\"Political,\" replied Jenkins. \"Security services and all that.\"\n\n\"So what? Murder's murder in this country, and needs to be got to the bottom of – if you see what I mean.\"\n\n\"They have got to the bottom of it,\" replied Jenkins. \"They know who did it, and why.\"\n\n\"Well, that's something at least. Have they shared their little secret with you, by any chance?\"\n\n\"No, not exactly.\"\n\n\"Either they know who did it or they don't. And if they have the evidence, then we can make an arrest and bring charges.\"\n\n\"It's not that easy, Harry. The bloke who did it has also been murdered, so they say.\"\n\n\"And I suppose they know who did _that_?!\"\n\n\"Yes, they do.\"\n\n\"Wonderful!\"\n\n\"Not really. It was a Russian spy, who's been kicked out.\"\n\n\"Jesus!\"\n\n\"Hence the message to drop it.\"\n\nDCI Flower sat back in disbelief.\n\n\"Glass of scotch, Harry?\"\n\n\"I need something.\"\n\nJenkins got the bottle and two glasses out of the bottom drawer of his desk.\n\n\"The other thing you'll need is paperwork, so that you can close the case and put the file away. Tomorrow be all right?\"\n\n\"Cheers.\"\n\n***\n\nDmitry Makienko had obviously returned to London at exactly the right time. He had been humiliated in Moscow by his Director at the Lubyanka Building, who had sent him for an intensive course of retraining. It was not that he needed retraining, of course. It was a punishment. A crude attempt to make him lose face among his peer group, all of whom still respected him in spite of everything. They agreed that it was the Director who was a fool, not he, Makienko. He had fought his way to the top of the KGB, now the FSB, and was not about to be pushed down by some idiot bureaucrat in the organisation who would probably not even know how to handle a gun, let alone kill a man at fifty metres. The Director had authority, certainly, but no skills whatsoever. Collecting secret information, surveillance, unarmed combat, shooting, blackmail, sabotage, skiing, jungle survival – bah! The man, for all his splendid pin-stripe suit, white shirt and silk tie, could do none of these things. So who was he to dare belittle Makienko? His scheme to eliminate the British scientist, Barclay, had been brilliantly conceived and executed. Not only had the scientist been murdered, but so too had one of Britain's top agents who he, Dmitry Makienko, had so skilfully blackmailed into committing the murder and who had then himself been killed, personally by Makienko, with his own hands.\n\nThe faked photographs of him adding the poison to Jarvis's coffee had been unfortunate, not least because the idiot Ambassador and then the even more stupid Director at the Lubyanka Building had been fooled by them. Clever, but unfortunate. And if Barclay's body had been discovered sooner by that incompetent police force they had in London, then none of this would have happened. As it was, the dimwits in the Kremlin had not believed that the man was actually dead, and had accepted the story that the professor had simply gone missing because he had suffered a nervous breakdown. If that's what it was, then he was still alive, they had said, and so you, Comrade Makienko, have failed.\n\n\" _Failed?!\"_ said Makienko to himself _. \"Makienko never fails.\"_\n\nHe had, after all, just been to the man's cremation, had he not? Not even the British could fake an event like that. He had looked carefully at all the people who had been there, and recognised no-one. There was a cousin, so they said. He certainly looked like a member of the family, but had a limp and a beard and glasses. Of course, that could all have been faked, like the photographs, but then who had they cremated?\n\n' _No,'_ decided Makienko. _'Barclay was dead after all.'_\n\nHe was _almost_ sure, anyway.\n\nBut then, there was the question of the pocket from his overcoat. Who could possibly have taken that? And when? Perhaps the British were not all as stupid as he had thought. Perhaps they had somehow taken it. Perhaps it also contained evidence of his involvement in Jarvis's murder. Perhaps he needed to be specially careful now he was back in London. Leaving London at such short notice had done his career no good, he admitted, but if, now he was back, he was to be expelled.... Makienko shuddered at the thought of what might happen.\n\nHe had to be quite sure that Barclay was dead. No doubt about that. And he had to be able to convince his Director at the Lubyanka that Barclay was dead. He had already ordered a copy of the death certificate, but, like the photographs, that could be faked as well.\n\nBut if Barclay was still alive, unlikely as that was since he, Dmitry Makienko had arranged his death, where was he? The Russian thought long and hard. Perhaps a better question was _'Who was he?'_ One of the world's leading scientists, who had been posing such a threat to the future economy of the Russian Federation, was hardly likely to retire and take up chicken farming. He would still be working somewhere. Not at Culham or Harwell, he was sure. He had checked there, and all Barclay's old colleagues were in deep shock and mourning. Not even the Brits could fake that.\n\nBut what about the cousin, perhaps?\n\nThere was a likeness. He had noticed it himself. The hair, the spectacles, the limp – they could all be faked. So who was the cousin? A few phone calls, and he knew it was Doctor Roger Lloyd.\n\nSo?\n\nA 'doctor' of what? Particle physics, eh?! Not medicine or philosophy, but physics. The same as Barclay!\n\nIt was a long shot, but if Barclay was still alive, then Dr. Roger Lloyd could well be the same man.\n\nHe, too, would have to go. Just in case. Another death would perhaps convince his stupid Director that Makienko's mission had after all been successfully completed, without this time any shadow of doubt. He had to cover all possibilities, all eventualities. There was no room for mistakes, for errors of omission. There was no doubt about it. Lloyd would have to go. Just to be sure.\n\nHaving been clever enough to work all this out, he, Makienko, would see to the execution himself this time.\n\nIt was not a pleasant surprise for Makienko to discover that Lloyd was due to take up a new post in Switzerland, almost immediately. Switzerland had funny rules about neutrality, and diplomatic immunity and that sort of thing. He would not feel safe there, but there was no time to act before Lloyd departed for Geneva. It was a city he had not visited before, and since he was travelling privately, he could expect little help from his Consulate, if any.\n\nSo be it. He, Dmitry Makienko who never failed, would handle this on his own. He had been told once again to leave the country, so that's what he would do. But to go directly to Geneva might be too obvious, in the unlikely event that the British authorities were keeping a check on him. So to be on the safe side, he flew to Zurich. He had planned then to get the train from there to Geneva, changing at Lausanne.\n\nAt the last minute, though, he caught a different train from Lausanne, and went through to Montreux instead. According to his source, Lloyd had gone skiing for the weekend, with a friend.\n\n***\nCHAPTER SIXTEEN \\- THE BEST MAN WINS\n\nFor Lloyd, it had been a busy few days, and not a little stressful as well. He had not enjoyed the quiet ceremony at the crematorium. It was odd, and distressing, to see so many of his old colleagues in the congregation, paying him a respectful farewell.\n\nAt least none of them had recognised him in his new guise. He did his best to ignore them, and to concentrate on his own need to say farewell to his estranged brother. It was too late to wish that they had been closer in life. That was all in the past now. It was embarrassing listening to his own eulogy. He wondered who had written it. But he had no time to dwell on it. Within hours, he was off to Heathrow.\n\nIt had been decided not to tell Lloyd that Makienko had been at the crematorium, but Miller was now ever more alert and vigilant – just in case. If there had ever been any doubt in the Russian's mind, then the funeral service should have been enough to convince him that Barclay was dead. But you could never tell. The man was a professional and, it seemed, a bit of a fanatic, looking after his future career. Another cock-up, and he wouldn't have one.\n\nSo far as they were aware, Makienko had gone back to the Trade Mission in Highgate, where the Security Service people were keeping an eye on him. Miller knew he would be told of the Russian's movements, and that he had in any case been told to leave the country again, so he should soon be out of harms' way once and for all. As soon as he was back in Moscow, this time for good it was hoped, the pressure would be off, and Lloyd could be left on his own to get on with his life.\n\nMiller and Lloyd flew out on the same aircraft. Dusty had managed to check the passenger manifest before they boarded their flight, and had taken the time to stroll up and down the aircraft while they were airborne, but so far as he could tell, the Russian FSB man was not on board.\n\nThey put their seats into the upright position and fastened their seatbelts as instructed, ready for landing.\n\n\"Just look a those mountains,\" exclaimed Miller. \"I've not been to Switzerland before.\"\n\n\"There's some good skiing to be had here, although there won't be all that much snow around at this time of the year – it's too early in the season.\"\n\n\"Do you ski?\" asked Dusty.\n\n\"Love it! I played rugby and everything else at school, but from the first time I took to the snow it has been my favourite sport. I will confess that part of the reason – and a big part if I'm honest – for electing to come here to work was the thought of unlimited skiing. What about you?\"\n\n\"Absolutely! I've even done some Arctic Warfare winter training with the Marines in Norway. Apart from you being a nice chap and all that, the thought that we might get a bit of time on the slopes did pass through my mind when I volunteered to come out here with you! Any chance while we're here, do you think?\"\n\n\"I'm sure I could get a day or so off and find some decent snow somewhere near here. In fact, it might be a good idea to go soon, before I get too committed and settled. Perhaps even this weekend. Leave it to me.\"\n\n\"That would be great, not least because I hope I shan't have to be here for too long.\"\n\nThe European Organisation for Nuclear Research, CERN, was not far from Geneva's airport at Cointrin. The complex was centred around a huge 17-mile long circular tunnel buried 300 feet under the Swiss-French border. Miller and Lloyd planned to stay at a small Holiday Inn near the French village of St. Genis about a 20 minute walk away. Lloyd would stay there until he found something more permanent.\n\nThey took a taxi from the airport.\n\nLloyd had visited the establishment before, in his previous existence as he was beginning to regard it, and knew a couple of the hundred or so British scientists working on the project. To their surprise, delight and amazement, they had been told that Lloyd was Jack Barclay, and, having been sworn to secrecy, were looking forward to working with him as part of the team.\n\n\"What actually goes on here?\" Miller had asked.\n\n\"You've probably heard of the Large Hadron Collider? It's had a lot of publicity. Well, that's here at CERN. When it's working fully, we hope it will create the conditions that existed immediately after the big bang.\"\n\n\"Is that the thing that broke soon after it was switched on?\"\n\n\"That's the thing,\" agreed Lloyd.\n\n\"I remember the publicity! Are you hoping to mend it, or something?\"\n\n\"As a matter of fact, it's already being mended, as you put it, but I'm not actually going to work on that project, anyway.\"\n\n\"So what are we doing here?\"\n\n\"There are already plans being drawn up for a newer and better machine, and I'll be helping with that development work as part of the UK contribution. One of the problems with the LHC is that it's circular, and it's very difficult to control the two streams of particles which are fired at one another at such enormous speed. So we're planning a new collider which is straight, called the International Linear Collider.\"\n\n\"How is that better, then?\" asked Miller, beginning to get lost.\n\n\"You fire the two beams from each end and they smash together head-on in the middle.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Miller. \"No corners to go round.\"\n\n\"Well, not so many.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Miller, who didn't at all.\n\n\"It will be a much bigger machine – huge, in fact – with two accelerators each about 11 miles long, pointing at each other. In time, each accelerator might be extended to 15½ miles, making the whole thing over 30 miles long. That should result in us finding all sorts of exotic new particles which we are sure must be there, but which we have never seen and have never been able to prove exist. On top of that, it might also prove the existence of such things as dark matter and dark energy, and perhaps even extra dimensions. We're calling it 'Einstein's telescope', because it will look into the problems which his relativity theories raised and which have never been resolved.\"\n\nMiller was totally lost, and said so.\n\n\"Let's just go skiing,\" he said.\n\nMiller was waiting for breakfast at the Holiday Inn the next day when his mobile phone rang.\n\nMaybe he was going to be with Lloyd longer than he had hoped after all. Makienko had disappeared from the Trade Mission, and hadn't been seen since yesterday morning. Although he had been told to leave the country, somehow the MI5 blokes had lost touch with him, and were desperately trying to find out what had happened to him and where he had gone. The only thing they were sure of was that he hadn't been on any of the recent flights to Moscow, or to anywhere else in Russia for that matter\n\nAs Clayton had said, \"If they had been any damned good at all, they would have been working for Section 11, and not MI5\".\n\n***\n\nMiller was taking care to keep in touch with the Ops Room in Clerkenwell, so that they knew what was happening and what his plans were in relation to Lloyd. There had been no further news about Makienko or his whereabouts, although MI5 thought they had identified the 'mole'. A junior clerical assistant in the Cabinet Office had been trying to make a few extra bob selling low-level information. The problem was that he didn't know what was 'low-level' and what wasn't. The other problem was that the man was still there. They didn't have enough direct evidence yet to arrest him or sack him, or even suspend him. They were working on it.\n\nMiller let them know, in no uncertain terms, that he was not happy about Makienko being on the loose, not least because he was in Switzerland on his own. Bill Clayton tried to reassure him.\n\n\"We have no idea whether he's heading your way or not, so relax. He's probably going to Russia the long way round.\"\n\n\"But I thought MI5 was keeping tracks on him?\"\n\n\"Frankly, we did too, but they seem to have lost him for the time being.\"\n\n\"It's OK for them – they're in London in the warm, and I'm out here freezing to death on my own.\"\n\n\"I know, Dusty. They should never have taken their eyes off the man. Frankly, if they had been any damned good at all, they would have been working for Section 11, and not MI5,\"\n\n\"That's all very well, but until we're sure, a bit of support would be useful out here, even just to give me a meal break.\"\n\n\"We'll do what we can,\" said Clayton. \"But you're well armed, if you need to be,\" Head of 'S' reminded him. \"Gladys was apoplectic when you demanded the HK53 Heckler and Koch assault carbide with two magazines of ammo. And as for taking it abroad...\"\n\nThey both laughed.\n\n\"I shall never forget the paperwork,\" said Miller, \"but she worked things OK and I got through customs at both ends without a murmur from anyone. If all goes well, I shall be home with it in a few days, once Lloyd has settled in, but I feel a bit exposed at the moment.\"\n\n\"Until we know where Makienko is for sure, just keep on your toes, and look out for strangers.\"\n\n\"They're all bloody strangers here, Colonel!\"\n\nHaving checked all the snow reports and weather forecasts, Dusty Miller and Roger Lloyd decided to head for Rochers-de-Naye that weekend, where, at 2,045 meters, there was already enough snow for some decent skiing, and more was forecast during the next few days. They booked overnight bed and breakfast in Montreux, near the station, and caught the first train in the morning up to the summit. After that, they would spend a couple of nights at the tiny resort of Paccots, which boasted a station on the same rack-and-pinion rail line, but not much else.\n\n***\n\nIt was about that time that Clerkenwell heard that Makienko had booked a flight to Zurich.\n\nThey immediately told Miller, who swore.\n\n\"That's a long way from where we are,\" Miller said, \"but I don't like the smell of this.\"\n\n\"Neither do I, to be honest,\" admitted Clayton. \"And,\" he continued, \"I'm sorry to say that Zurich is _not really_ all that far from where you are. If he changes trains at Lausanne, he can be in Montreux in just over three hours. And he bought a Swiss Railways travel card before he left, when he got his airline ticket.\"\n\nMiller swore again.\n\n\"Is he looking for us, do you think?\"\n\n\"Who knows. He was at the funeral, but if he wasn't convinced, he might just be taking an interest in Lloyd, to be doubly sure.\"\n\n\"He might just be even better than we thought, too.\"\n\n\"Give me co-ordinates of where you are,\" commanded Clayton. \"Make sure you keep in touch, and tell us your every move. I'll do my best to get some back-up to you as soon as I can.\"\n\nMiller had enough problems already, without HQ adding to them, but the S.11 organisation went into overdrive to get immediate support out to him.\n\nEven the standby RAF Hercules crew thought a weekend in Switzerland might be a better idea than some sort of emergency relief flight to Afghanistan. The weather didn't look too brilliant, though, especially not for a low-level drop of special forces paratroops in those mountains. Snow was forecast, and there was nearly always mist or fog at about 2000 meters at this time of the year. Could be a bit dodgy.\n\n\"Channel 19 on your radio,\" Clayton told Miller, \"for direct contact with your support. The Swiss Army will be listening out, so don't hesitate to use it as an emergency frequency. They're used to working in that terrain.\"\n\n\"So I should hope,\" said Miller. \"They bloody well live here.\"\n\n***\n\nMiller and Lloyd had enjoyed a good morning on the slopes, in spite of the fact that Miller was a bit edgy. He had told Lloyd that he was using his binoculars looking for wild life and birds. Wild Russians, actually, although he didn't say so. They had an excellent schnapps, and an even better lunch with yet another warming schnapps, at the Restaurant Alpin on the summit. They had decided to try some cross-country skiing that afternoon. Miller could not make up his mind whether they were safer among the crowds on the piste, or whether heading off on their own might be a better bet. He certainly stood a better chance of spotting Makienko out in the country, but on the other hand, the Russian would have a clearer shot out in the open - if he was there. What the hell!\n\nThere was a well laid out cross-country trail starting from near the restaurant. By now, it was snowing hard, but they had nevertheless decided to turn off the _loipe_ for some real cross-country on virgin snow. Miller had been impressed by Lloyd's skill on skis, so he had no concerns about his ability to cope. This was what cross-country skiing was all about! Away from the busy downhill slope, enjoying the tranquillity of the mountains, cutting a swathe through fresh snow. They had decided to make their way along the top of a ledge once they had crossed the ridge, to a narrow valley which would lead them through the woods to more open snow, and a clear run back to Paccots. They crested the ridge near La Perche, where the rail line cut through yet another tunnel under the mountains on its way to Rochers de Naye. It was a good run on fresh snow, although it was now falling harder than it had been when they had set out. They had a couple of hours before it started getting dark, but once over the ridge, it was more or less downhill all the way.\n\nSince he didn't fancy skiing in them, Lloyd had decided to leave his built-up shoes in St. Genis.\n\nMakienko had noticed. No stick, no limp, and no spectacles, either. He lowered his binoculars, fastened his skis, and took the Kalashnikov from his back-pack.\n\nMiller and Lloyd were making good progress, in spite of not wearing special cross-country skis, and were now well away from the main pistes. Miller had been keeping a good look out for other skiers, so was taken quite by surprise when a single shot rang out.\n\nLloyd fell with a shout of pain, and clasped his left shoulder. Miller threw himself on top of the sprawling figure, turning his head in time to see the gunman fire another round, before setting off at speed along the ridge. The bullet grazed Miller's leg, before splintering bark from the pine tree behind him.\n\nThere was blood oozing through Lloyd's fingers. Miller tore off his scarf, stuffed it with snow, and clamped it to Lloyd's shoulder.\n\n\"Hold that there, and don't move, whatever you do,\" said Miller. \"I'll be back.\"\n\nWith that, he took off after the disappearing man, while desperately trying to extricate his Heckler and Koch automatic from his back-pack. It was only a flesh wound to his leg, thank heaven, but painful just the same.\n\nThe man had taken the open snow across the ridge, but he would soon have to turn downhill into the longer valley towards Paccots. Miller decided to risk all, and cut him off by heading diagonally through the trees. He judged that there was just enough snow under the tree canopy, but it was a risky technique which he hadn't practiced since Norway.\n\nHe threaded his way through the trees, doing his best to avoid the lower branches. Thank the Lord he was not wearing cross-country skis. He was gaining ground on the gunman, no doubt about it, but he had been spotted. In spite of the speed at which they were now both travelling, the man loosed off a shot at Miller, splintering a tree nearby as he swerved passed. He knew what he was doing, all right, thought Miller. It had to be Makienko. Miller was gaining ground, and risked a shot himself. He missed, and the man returned fire. He missed, as well. Miller could see there was open ground ahead, which meant he would lose the advantage of cover, although he had the benefit of being behind his assailant.\n\nHe took aim as carefully as he could at that speed and fired again, a short burst this time. The gunman fell, wounded, sending up a cloud of snow as he slithered across the slope. He came to a halt at the foot of a tree, and as Miller closed in on him, Makienko somehow managed to let off another round from his sniper's rifle. Miller felt the bullet tear the flesh from his right arm. He dropped the HK53 as he skidded towards the prone figure, slamming in to a tree and coming to a shattering halt some fifty meters from the man.\n\nNow Miller was in real trouble. He took stock of his situation as best he could, in spite of his great pain.\n\nHe had felt, and heard, his left leg shatter as he hit the tree, which had shed its load of snow from its upper branches on top of him. As he fell back, gasping for breath, there was a sharp and excruciating stab of pain from his ribs. His right arm was hanging virtually useless. He could not move it.\n\nMiller struggled to reach his Browning pistol, but the weapon was at his left side, ready to be easily drawn and used by his right hand. Not now. There was blood everywhere, an ever-increasing red patch in the freshly fallen snow, and Miller could already feel himself getting weaker.\n\n\"Comrade Makienko,\" he shouted. It was a huge effort to do anything.\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\nMakienko was also loosing strength, and Miller was gratified to notice that he had hit the Russian in the chest.\n\nMakienko coughed, and spat blood.\n\n\"We've met before, Dmitry.\"\n\nMiller was fast losing blood and consciousness. It was a huge effort to focus on the Russian.\n\nMakienko also struggled to see his adversary, wiping blood from his mouth.\n\n\"I took those photos of you in the coffee bar,\" bellowed Miller as best he could. \"And I took the pocket from your coat.\"\n\n\"Bastard!\" yelled the Russian, struggling to take aim for one last shot at Miller.\n\nMiller fell back exhausted by his effort, and noticed the ever-widening stain of blood in the snow around him. He knew he was going to die. He did not have the strength to reach his pistol, or to struggle to safety in the trees. He was a sitting duck for Makienko, if the man lived long enough.\n\nHe shouted once more at the Russian, defiantly.\n\n\"You know rule twenty, Makienko?\" This time, it was Miller who had to wipe blood from his mouth.\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\nMiller was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone shout, and waves of pain and dizziness swept over him.\n\n\"Failure isn't an option in our business. And you're a failure. You're going to die.\"\n\nMiller sank back into the snow, which was now beginning to blanket him as it fell ever more heavily and thickly. Through the red mist of pain, saw the furious FSB man let fly another round without taking proper aim. Miller felt it hit, but it was only a flesh wound this time he thought. Not that it made any real difference. He was a goner anyway. A wave of excruciating pain swept over Miller again, and he mercifully began to lose consciousness as he watched the Russian, through unfocussed eyes, unsteadily but deliberately take aim again, perhaps for the last time.\n\n\"You will die first,\" shouted Makienko.\n\nMiller heard a volley of shots ring out, but felt nothing this time. Instead, he vaguely saw Makienko thrown back into the snow, no doubt by the recoil.\n\nMiller was light headed and barely aware of what was going on around him anymore. He was hallucinating, he was sure. He imagined he could vaguely see, through the pain, what he thought were three shadowy figures, dressed in white combat overalls and headgear, and carrying HK53s. They swept down the slope, showering powdery snow from their skis in their wake.\n\nOne made straight for Miller and bent over him.\n\nMiller struggled to remain awake.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing here?\" asked Dusty weakly.\n\n\"Fancied a bit of skiing, that's all, so me and few chums from the Special Boat Service thought we'd drop in on your weekend off,\" replied Nick Marsden, as he leant over Miller to assess his condition, \"Hope you don't mind.\"\n\n\"Terrible pain,\" mumbled Dusty, barely awake.\n\nMarsden ripped open the first aid kit from his back pack, tore out a syringe, and plunged the morphine deep into Miller's forearm, exposed by a huge and bloody rip in his parka.\n\n\"You're in a bad way, sport,\" he said. It was immediately obvious that Miller was seriously hurt. He used his hand-held radio.\n\n\"It seems I got here just in the nick of time.\"\n\nThe joke was lost on Miller, who had drifted into another coma.\n\n\"Wake up, Miller. Talk to me.\"\n\n\"Where's Lloyd?\" whispered Miller\n\n\"He's OK. Our medics are with him. Your dead friend here,\" he nodded towards Makienko, \"has given him a dodgy shoulder, but he'll live.\"\n\nMiller drifted into oblivion again.\n\n\"Stay awake Miller,\" Marsden shouted.\n\nMiller stirred. Already the morphine was having some effect.\n\n\"Get my gun,\" he breathed.\n\n\"Got it already,\" Marsden assured him.\n\n\"Gladys will kill me if I go back without it.\" He passed out again.\n\n\"Wake up Miller. Keep talking to me, man.\"\n\nMiller stirred.\n\n\"The medics are coming down here to look at you next. Any minute now and you'll be sorted.\"\n\nMiller thought he heard the sound of Yamaha snow-mobiles. Two appeared through the trees and the heavy snow, headlights piercing the blizzard.\n\nMarsden stepped back to give the medic all the room he needed.\n\nRoger Lloyd was gingerly helped off the second machine, arm in a sling.\n\nLooking pale and shocked, he knelt over the prostrate Miller.\n\n\"You saved my life, my friend,\" he said.\n\n\"Only just,\" whispered Miller, drifting again.\n\nThe Royal Navy Petty Officer medical orderly, dressed in Arctic survival kit like the rest of the team, was quick and efficient. After he had wrapped the prone figure in a thermal blanket as gently as he could, he applied a tourniquet to stop the flow of blood from Miller's arm, applied a local anaesthetic to his leg, which he expertly straightened out and strapped to his good leg, and examined his chest.\n\n\"Broken ribs and a punctured lung, I think,\" he pronounced, wiping more blood from Dusty's mouth. \"You'll live.\"\n\n\"No chance of a helicopter, I suppose?\" the orderly asked Marsden.\n\n\"Not in this,\" replied Nick, motioning towards the heavy snow. \"Even if there was a decent landing site, which there isn't, it's almost white-out conditions already, and the rotors would whip up the fresh snow and make it even worse.\"\n\n\"This man won't take too much shaking about, that's all,\" said the medic. \"He needs to be handled with care.\"\n\n\"We'll just have to take our time, then. At least the new snow will be reasonably smooth, if we can see our way through this weather. I just hope we make it before dark.\"\n\nThe team gently lifted Miller onto a ski-fitted stretcher, which could be pulled behind one of the snow-mobiles.\n\nMarsden issued instructions.\n\n\"Armstrong,\" he shouted to his second-in-command, \"take the troop along the ledge and down the valley to Caux. There's a Swiss Army recovery team waiting there for us. I'll follow with the Yamahas and the casualties. If this blizzard worsens into a real white-out, hole up for the night. We'll do the same, except that this chap needs specialist attention quickly. Channel 19 is the one to use. Don't be afraid to ask for help – we're not behind enemy lines this time.\"\n\n\"Aye aye, Commander,\" responded Armstrong. \"What do we do with him, by the way?\" he thumbed towards Makienko.\n\n\"He can rot for a bit,\" replied Marsden. \"We've got enough problems of our own at the moment. The Swiss Army can come and get him tomorrow, if they can find him.\"\n\nOne of the team threw a blanket over the dead Russian, although later they all wondered why.\n\n\"When you get half a chance, Armstrong, get on to that RAF Hercules, tell the bird-man in charge we're going to be a touch late for our rendezvous, but make sure he doesn't go without us. I don't want to leave this man behind in a Montreux hospital.\"\n\nMarsden turned to Miller, who already looked a bit more comfortable.\n\n\"Not that there's anything much wrong with Swiss hospitals, I'm sure,\" he said. \"It's just that I want you back home fit and well in time for my wedding. You're the best man.\"\n\n***\n\nA **BOUT THE AUTHOR**\n\n**Duncan James** was an RAF pilot before eventually reaching the higher levels of the British Civil Service, in a career that included top-level posts at home and abroad with the Defence Ministry, and work with the Metropolitan Police at Scotland Yard.\n\nA life-long and compulsive writer, he has produced everything from Government statements, Ministerial briefing papers, media announcements and reference books. As a public affairs consultant and freelance author, he was a prolific writer of magazine articles on a wide variety of subjects, as well as short stories and three novels. This is the third of a trilogy. The first, \"Cashback\", and the second, \"Their Own Game\", are also published by Smashwords.\n\n***\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n# We're Feeling a Little Sheepish...\n\nSometimes You've Just Got to Laugh\n\nPaul Buckley\n\n# 2015\n\nAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author.\n\nCopyright 2015\n\n# Life's Like That\n\n## When Losing Your Wallet Really Doesn't Matter\n\nAt the risk of sounding defensive at the start, let me explain how I solved the problem of keeping my wallet safe. Even if on one day in early February it failed spectacularly, I still cling to the belief that my system is sound. After all it had worked well for years and I had no reason to think it would let me down now.\n\nI have what I still believe is an elegant solution to the wallet losing scenario, one I rather pride myself on. It solves two problems at once. Certainly there is nothing more annoying than losing all your cards and having to wander around town replacing them, and my new system reduces to a minimum the probability that I will end up in this unpleasant situation. I haven't patented the system so feel free to adopt it yourself without any attribution. If you follow my example, your reward will be the extra security and peace of mind it provides.\n\nMy solution is to carry around not one wallet but two wallets. By that act alone I double the probability that I will retain one of them and in this way I double my peace of mind, (but please don't probe too deeply into my use of probability theory.) Of course you might say I also double the likelihood that I will lose one of them, and I have no defence against such an accusation (I call this nit picking myself).\n\nHowever there is more, I give the two wallets different security ratings. One small cheap wallet contains at most forty dollars along with harmless items like shopping lists, while the other contains my high security cards such as my driver's license and credit cards, along with extra cash which can be transfer as required to the cheap wallet. I am sure you are ahead of me by now. The high security wallet is placed in a side pockets which can be securely fastened with a button, or Velcro. Since I operate an old fashioned cash economy, I seldom need to use this high security wallet and the risk of losing this wallet is reduced almost to zero. Now the relative few times I must use, for example a credit card, becomes something of an occasion for me rather than a routine event, and when this wallet is out of safe storage it has my full attention.\n\nOf course it can still be annoying to lose even a two dollar wallet, so I have special extra precautions to ensure I don't lose this wallet easily, even if it is being taken in and out of its low security pocket often. So I use an old fashioned method, which has rather fallen out of favour over the years, namely having contact details clearly displayed so that the person who finds it can quickly and easily find out whom to phone to return the wallet to its real owner namely me. The fact of the matter is that most Kiwis are honest and when they find something their only desire is to find the rightful owner and return it as soon as possible. This is the trick our mothers used decades ago, which required placing name tags inside everything, and using a wallet with a transparent panel. These days I write my phone numbers on a card and slip it into place so it is the first thing the person sees when they open the wallet.\n\nOn the 11th February 2015, I tested this system to its limit Picture me working on the computer about 3:15 in the afternoon, when the phone rings. At first I don't understand what is being said but the second time around I get it, \"Our daughters found your wallet,\" a man tells me, \"We live in Waterloo Crescent, so we can bring the wallet around to you.\"\n\nThe man tells me he will bring the wallet around in fifteen minutes.\n\nI get some cash out to give to the girls to thank them for being so honest.\n\nThe man brings his two charming daughters around and I make a small speech about how pleased I am to get the wallet back and praise the girl's honesty and give them my reward (enough for two small girls). The girls are pleased, I'm pleased and I now know who our neighbours at number 27 Waterloo Crescent are. It is a most pleasant exchange which leaves all of us feeling better than if I had never lost my small wallet. It's a win-win situation.\n\nFast forward almost three hours, when I am around in Te Awe Awe Street visiting Bryan Anderson and hoping to get a few more of his delicious grapefruit for my breakfasts. The discovery that people on a number of different medications can't eat grapefruit because it changes the dosing of their drugs and may cause serious problems if eaten, has been a great boon for me. Bryan is happy to oblige.\n\nThen my cell phone rings.\n\nIt is Bruce. \"Someone has phoned to say they have found your wallet,\" he says.\n\nI quickly reply, \"I know about that and I've got my wallet back already.\"\n\nThere is a puzzled silence before Bruce continues, \"The woman lives across the river in Johnston Street.\"\n\nNow it is me who is puzzled and I ask for more details and am forced to realise that this is a quite different event. I check my pockets and sure enough this slippery wallet has disappeared yet again. Chastened, I write down the house number.\n\nThe lady who opens the door is absolutely delighted to have returned the wallet to its careless owner and we have another charming conversation that could have continued for much longer but the woman is in the middle of eating dinner and I depart hoping that we will meet again.\n\nI then picked up the pieces. After getting the wallet back, I had stuffed it into my pocket careless of its security and half an hour later went walking on the undulating walkways across the river. Sometime during the walk it had fallen out of my undefended pocket. I did not tell this lady that I had lost the wallet once before today; it seemed unnecessary.\n\nAgain the clear labelling has re-united me and my wallet and in double quick time, but I don't intend to make a habit of losing the wallet, it feels rather like I'm taking advantage of people of good will. I resolve, in future, to put this small wallet in my left-hand pocket, not a natural action for a right-handed person like me but there is less competition for space in this pocket. In the right pocket there is a big bunch of keys and these are yanked in and out frequently, with the potential each time for dragging the wallet out with it. So now the security even in this low security wallet is improved, provided that is I remember to use the left-hand pocket.\n\nBut so much for good intentions. Less than a month later I again lost this wallet. This time I thought I knew exactly where it was. Late the previous day I mailed a packet at our local Post Shop, or at what used to be our Post office, but about nine months ago it was defrocked as New Zealand Post cut down their branches because of falling mail volumes. The Korean owner is pushing bravely ahead trying to retain a business without the post, selling more gifts to try to compensate. I realise I must have left my wallet there.\n\nThe next morning I hurried back to ask Mark the owner whether he had found it.\n\nInstead of answering he produced a wallet covered in Kiwis that looked exactly like mine but when I reach out to claim it he stops, \"No that's my wallet, your wallet was found in the street. The woman who found it said she would take it to the Police Station.\" This is strange because usually I am contacted directly by the finder. So I hurry into town and the police woman does remember my Kiwi wallet, after all it came in only yesterday. So way, \"There was a name inside, wasn't there,\" confident I know what her reply will be.\n\n\"No, there was no name inside.\" When she finally found the wallet and handed it over, I rifled through it thinking the name card might be tucked away somewhere and she had just missed seeing it. But sure enough there was no name.\n\n\"Do you have the name of the person who found it,\" I asked, \"I would like to thank him or her.\"\n\nUnfortunately when I called the number I got an answering phone and must leave a message instead.\n\nAs you can see my good resolutions did not last long. What can I say? But at least I did in the end get the wallet back.\n\n## Bob's Tenants can't get into Hot Water\n\nAs you know every year Bob Lambourne in May leaves New Zealand behind and flies north to have a second summer in the United Kingdom. He is the envy of many of his friends. The only downside to this lifestyle is the need each year to find tenants to stay in his house. He doesn't need the money but in New Zealand at least, the Insurance Companies get a bit upset if your house is empty for more than about two months. I suppose they picture thieves stealing, if not the house, then certainly all the contents or worse setting fire to the place. Of course strictly the house and contents are not left unattended, after all Bruce and I live just across the road, and we check it regularly but his Insurance Company does not regard this as being enough.\n\nSo Bob has to find someone suitable to rent the place for at least two months if not the whole five months he is away. It is not a job Bob looks forward to because like me he dislikes the screening process. We are both relieved each year when the matter is resolved. Recently he tapped into a regular clientele in the form of the Singaporean students who come to Massey University each June or July to do laboratory work. These students have become the first to get in touch each year when he advertises. And they are reliable because they have no desire to ruin their own reputations or that of Singapore University.\n\nAlthough they are all highly tech computer literate people strangely they prefer to pay me in cash. I've always assumed it's something to do with how they share the rent but it's no trouble. The reputation of Bob's house as the perfect place to stay, led them to pack in ever more students. And then suddenly this year they disappeared. Something to do with the reorganisation of the course, but it happened at a time when no one else seemed interested in renting. Instead one of Bob's best friends Tony had a son with partner who Bob realised would be perfect as a short term tenants. After extended negotiations, finally at the last moment everything is agreed to and I meet Robbie and Hennah and they move in.\n\nBut this year I don't even have to collect rent, Bob does it all on line from a distance.\n\nHowever with a house there is always the question of maintenance and early one evening I got a call from Robbie. \"We have a problem with the gas. We don't have any hot water, and the heat pump has stopped working.\" It doesn't rain but it pours.\n\nFor a moment nothing clicks. I accept his analysis on face value and find myself wondering what could have happened to the gas supply and then it hits me, \"Robbie, Bob doesn't have gas. It was taken out of the house years ago, so it must be an electrical problem.\" As to the hot water, this is the depth of winter so something must be done and soon.\n\n\"Yes,\" says Robbie, \"We are having showers at the Gym but we can't wash our dishes.\"\n\nLike all good landlords I go over immediately to take a look and check to see if it isn't simply a matter of relays that have disengaged, something I can handle. It isn't. Fortunately we are on good terms with our electrician John Leader who tells me, \"I can't get the job done first thing tomorrow but later in the morning I'll send someone around.\" I relay the message to Robbie and my job is done.\n\nHowever when the workman arrives he can't raise anyone at Bob's house. Fortunately I have a key. I go back with the electrician and enter Bob's house calling out continually so Robbie is not taken by surprise, but whatever happens, I'm not going away, I want the problem fixed today. As I approach the switch board still calling his name Robbie appears. He brushes aside my apology for home invasion, \"It's time we were up anyway.\" I leave Robbie to describe the problem and phone John Leader to tell him to send the invoice to me. I'll pay him on line. Was there really a time when we had to use the mail service and wait for weeks to get everything settled, not in my life time anyway, or so it seems.\n\nTwo days later I receive the email with the invoice and, in what I regard as a demonstration of my efficiency, I pay John online and email a copy of the invoice to Bob to complete the circle. Fine a good job well done, even if I say so myself, but late in the evening I receive an email from Bob asking me to send him the invoice (he too is super-efficient in such matters), so, patient as always, I resend the invoice, while wondering what has happened to the copy I sent.\n\nThe next morning there is another email, this time it is just a copy of one Bob has sent to John Leader asking him to send him the invoice for the job. What on earth is going on? There seem to be only two possibilities either Bob is going mad or I'm going mad, you decide. In this situation the thoughtful punter will always bet on Bob, he never makes mistakes. Previously I have only read the invoice very quickly and superficially just for long enough to get what I regard as the essential information such as the cost of the job. I go back and reread the invoice very slowly. Yes the invoice is from John Leader, and yes the cost was $110, except it then states that it was for work done on bulb sockets, not heat pumps or hot water systems, and it was not addressed to me it was addressed to Bruce.\n\nThe penny drops. Bob also uses John Leader for electrical work on his house at number 6 Waterloo Crescent, just down the road. In my haste I had sent the wrong invoice to Bob. In fact I don't have the invoice for the work on Bob's house. I call John Leader and he confirms he hasn't sent the invoice for the work on Bob's house That won't arrive for at least two weeks.\n\nI followed this with an email apology to Bob and made a promise to myself that in future I will not make quick assumptions, but instead read everything carefully.\n\nI doubt I'll keep this promise.\n\n## Show Cancelled, At least that's What You Told Us\n\nOn Queens Birthday Weekend in 2015, as a dual birthday present to Bruce and me, Pam and Len Blackwell have bought tickets to a jazz and blues concert which features the classical music playing pianist Michael Houston, playing with The Roger Fox Big Band at the Regent Theatre in Palmerston North. With Len's favourite Rugby Team, the Crusaders, playing on the Friday night, he is free to join us on Saturday and we will all eat out at our local Thai Restaurant first.\n\nAt the show the music is, as we expected, an exciting blend of Jazz and Classical. Michael Houston is famous for letting his music speak for itself while he remains silent and still throughout a concert. This time we see a quite different Michael. He moves and sways about on the stool in time to the music and counts the Big Band in and out with nods of his head. It is like watching a huge old iceberg begin to melt at the edges.\n\nAt the end of the evening Roger Fox prods Michael Houston for a few words. Michael pauses and it is not clear for a moment or two whether he is refusing to break his long tradition of silence but when we see his lips begin to move, a hush falls over the theatre. He sums up his experience of working with the Big Band in one sentence, \"It was like jumping out of a plane without a parachute.\" He couldn't have made it clearer.\n\nOur plan is to go down to Wellington the following day and see a Chinese modern dance company perform at the Opera House. However late on Saturday afternoon we get a call from Ticketek to say this show called _Fault Lines_ has been cancelled. I check carefully with the man who phones me to make sure we can get our refund on the tickets when we return to Palmerston North on Tuesday. He confirms this will be OK. So we forget about _Fault Lines_ and search for another show in Wellington on Sunday. There is a new play on at Circa called _Second Afterlife_ so we book for that instead, after all there isn't much else on in town.\n\nWe arrive back in Palmerston North late on Tuesday afternoon and the next day I head for Ticketek to get our money back. A show is cancelled and the money will be refunded what could be simpler than that? It shouldn't take long.\n\nAs usual at first I rather over play my hand. \"Well,\" I say, \"Hand the money over.\" Three heads snap up to check me out and the silence that follows is so thick with hostility I could have cut it with a chain saw. Why aren't they leaping toward the safe to return our money I wonder? Instead I get a lecture from the older man about my foolishness in using those words, \"We could have mistaken you for a thief and pushed our alarm button.\"\n\nSo I spell out exactly what the situation is and again pause thinking the matter will be quickly resolved. I am again wrong. Instead the same man heads out the back to call Ticketek Grand Central. He is away far longer than I expected, after all how much is there to discuss; when a show is cancelled the money is refunded. End of story, surely this is a cut and dried case. When he returns, he spins some story about requiring me to write a description of what happened and emailing it to Ticketek .This is too much, these grasping thieves want me to waste my time writing out what is already obvious, the show was cancelled and they must give our money back.\n\nThen the same senior man flabbergasts me by saying, \" _Fault Lines_ was not cancelled.\"\n\nThe ground beneath my feet is suddenly rather shaky. I am reduced to the predictable reply of, \"What do you mean? We were called on Saturday afternoon and told the show was cancelled.\"\n\nNow I feel like a swindler, someone who is trying to take advantage of the fact that a show that was cancelled has been un-cancelled. How does Ticketek know I haven't seen the show and am now coming in to try my luck on a refund? But I must thrust such undermining thoughts out of my mind.\n\n\"You were called back and told the show was on again,\" he not unreasonably replies.\"\n\n\"We didn't get any call.\" Seldom has one of my answers sounded so hollow. How can we prove we didn't get a call? At least now I know why the company is mucking us around.\n\nI realise it is time to shift over into my injured customer mode, although it is not a role I play with much conviction, even when that is exactly what I am. I complain about the dishonesty of their refusal to do what they assured us they would do, namely refund our tickets. Perhaps my honesty shone through. I sense the staff starting to swing to my side. The attractive young woman now supports me, \"Get your explanation written out and send it in tonight to this email address.\" Her suggestion sounds more supportive in the saying than it does now writing it out later. It is just a repeat of what the old man said.\n\nI retreat from Ticketek with my tail between my legs, but feeling strengthened by the increasing bubble of anger rising up from somewhere deep inside me. Would you believe it today is the 3rd June, my birthday. We are going to a movie tonight and eating out afterwards. What a way to spend the night of my birthday, typing up an explanation I shouldn't have to give. In the end I take a draft of what Bruce has written and redrafted it twice before sending it away the next morning with a copy to, Ashleigh, the woman in Palmerston North Ticketek who is supporting me.\n\nHere is what I wrote.\n\n_We booked 2 seats for the Modern Dance performance,_ _Fault Lines_ _, for Sunday 31_ st _May in the Wellington Opera House. On the afternoon of the 30th May, we received a phone call from the Ticketek office informing us that the performance had been cancelled and telling us we would receive a refund from Ticketek. I immediately asked whether we could get our refund at the Ticketek Office in Palmerston North after we returned from Wellington on Wednesday. This was readily agreed to by the person I spoke to._\n\n_We were naturally disappointed with the cancellation of_ _Fault Lines_ _as we had been looking forward to seeing the show but I was reassured by what your agent told me, and we relaxed during our weekend visit to Wellington and thought nothing more of the matter while we were on holiday._\n\nHowever today when I went into the Palmerston North Ticketek to get our refund, instead of the reaction I expected, namely that you would immediately transfer the cost of the show tickets back to our account, we were told that a refund would not be made because refunds had to be made before the show. We were amazed and annoyed in equal amounts by your abrupt contradiction of the advice you gave me on Saturday when you called me.\n\nTo their credit the PN branch of Ticketek could see the dishonesty of your approach, namely you promised one action and afterwards you refuse to honour it, and the staff went into bat for us.\n\nWhen they called Ticketek Headquarters you wasted our time and that of your staff in PN by keeping us waiting endlessly on the phone before responding with a grudging request to tell Paul Buckley to write out what happened to JUSTIFY his request for a refund and then they would decide what they would do.\n\nI am annoyed by the way you are stalling and wasting my time by demanding I provide a justification for doing something you have already promised to do.\n\n_I REQUEST THAT YOU REFUND US THE COST OF THE TWO TICKETS IMMEDIATELY_ _._\n\nTo our astonishment, we learn from your PN Staff that yes the show was cancelled on Saturday afternoon, but it was subsequently decided to hold the show after all on that same night, but the news of this cancellation of the cancellation NEVER reached us and we went to a show at Circa instead.\n\nAfter being told this by your staff in PN, we went back to our answering machine and found out what had happened, and what is likely to happen whenever a cancelled show is suddenly \"uncancelled\", namely the second message did not get to us. On the Saturday we went walking late in the afternoon, and then straight out to dinner before going to a concert at the Regent Theatre. And next day we left for Wellington as soon as the car was packed. We did not check our answering machine. The Ticketek staff member, who made the second call to our answering machine, should have a record showing that he had not personally spoken to us. He should have persisted in trying to send the message until he had confirmation that we had received your message.\n\nYou cannot treat a message left on an answering machine as meaning anything unless you subsequently talk to the ticket holders. I suggest you train your staff so that if this situation arises again he or she ensures they reach the ticket holder and inform them personally and do not just rely on an answering machine.\n\n_The promoters must expect, in what I hope is the unusual situation of cancelling and then un-cancelling a show, that not every member of the audience will be reached and therefore_ _they will have to refund some concert goers_ _. Please also note that even in the message you left on our answering machine there is no mention of a specific time frame in which a refund has to be claimed._\n\nOur Ticketek account number is: #2254035\n\nPlease note I used my EFTPOS card to pay for our tickets, but this card was left at a restaurant in Wellington and has been temporarily suspended.\n\n_Regards  \n_ _Paul Buckley 17 Waterloo Crescent, Palmerston North_\n\nI know this is a disjoint letter with its meaning submerged in the over excited rhetoric of someone who feels wronged, but I have no desire to waste more time rewriting it so I sent it as it was and then I waited and I waited and I waited.\n\nAs it has been throughout this exchange, I am powerless to do anything, except write more pointless emails to the same faceless people. Call Centres have a double purpose, one is to save the company money and the second is to retain control of any exchange by isolating the customer from the company. The staff of call centres are often not even in the same country as the customer. It seems likely that the only way to break through this barrier is to have information that could damage the company, although even then it might take lawyers to prise control back to the customer. In simpler earlier times, you met with the seller and it was the customer who was all powerful.\n\nIn my case I can only wait. The sum of money involved (114 dollars) is small and if I try to pursue the matter in the courts it will cost me time and money, so I just wait. Every second day I contact Ashleigh and she tries once again to contact someone through the Call Centre. Each time she is put on hold and forced to wait. When she finally has someone to talk to, that person says \"I'm sorry but there is no one here who can deal with this matter at present..\n\nA week after I sent in my explanation, I again go into the Ticketek Office in Palmerston North to see Ashleigh and she again calls the centre again while I wait for the oracle to speak. I am already planning my strategies if the answer is no. Perhaps I'll call the local TV program programme _Fair Go_ and ask them to help or perhaps I'll write to _The Consumer_ _Magazine_ and complain to them about what's happened?\n\nBut Ashleigh returns with good news, \"If you give me a credit card number where they can refund your money, they will transfer it to that card within the next two days. This feels like an anti-climax rather than a victory. I thank Ashleigh for her support and for not leaving me alone to face the system and walk away.\n\nAnd yes the money did come through as promised.\n\n## How Not to Buy a New Chest of Drawers\n\nA couple of years ago, I decided I needed a new chest of drawers in our large back bedroom. A quick measurement showed there was room to fit in another chest of drawers of about the same height and width as the old one.\n\nRight from the start things went wrong and in hindsight I realise it was because I looked for the cheapest chest of drawers I could find. In the USA I would be described as a bottom feeder. Americans have such wonderfully appropriate ways of describing people, ways that are both clear and cuttingly appropriate. Bottom feeders in my mind are grubby little fish that scuffle around in the muddy bottom of a river searching for a good feed, but they are not connoisseurs, and any food will do.\n\nI find a chest of drawers that occupies the space perfectly. It did not overlap with the light switches and both the height and the colour matched the older one and, wait for it, it only cost $105. Now that's what I call cheap, it would create barely a ripple in my bank account. So I do not hesitate and became the proud owner of a new chest of drawers. The firm wanted fifty dollars to deliver it but, as I hoped he would, brother-in law Ross Richdale generously agreed to use his car, which has a tow bar, to haul a hired trailer home.\n\nI can't say I wasn't warned. The Chinese have a saying about the cost of things, and I knew it well and often quoted it (in the original Chinese) to friends. In translation it reads, _Cheap is not Cheap, and Expensive is not Expensive_. I only wish I had followed this advice but I didn't.\n\nEverything started out well enough. I snuggled the new chest of drawers into its space and felt quite pleased with myself. I don't know why people make such a fuss about buying things, it's not that hard. But it was not long before cracks of doubt began to appear, cracks that in the end opened up into crevasses.\n\nI became aware of problems inherent in the way it was constructed. The first was the tendency of the bottoms of the drawers to bend under the weight of the contents and the second was that the only thing holding the bottom of a drawer in place was a narrow ledge of wood and a bit of glue. This combination was fatal. As there were no other supports, when the bottom of the drawer bent the wood slipped out of its grove allowing the contents to empty on to the floor. I can hear you saying, what do you expect when a chest of drawers is so cheap. I can picture a workman (I hesitate to say tradesman because the skills demanded in the assembly are not great, even I could have put it together) assembling a hundred or more of these chest of drawers a day.\n\nBut thanks to Bruce I know my rights, which can be summarised as ' _everything you buy must be fit for purpose'_. If you reflect for a moment, I think you will agree this is a wonderfully powerful test. So armed with this, I went back to the shop, described what happened and demanded they put things right. Well not demanded, that's not my style but rather I asked pleasantly for this to be done. I also felt empowered because I knew the salesman personally, after all he had been a PhD student in the Chemistry Department at Massey University, and surely he wouldn't want to upset one of his old professors. In this I was wrong. No doubt soured by his experience as a mature Ph D student with a teenage son who had not been able to find a job in his new field and was forced to work in a furniture shop, his response can only be described as unhelpful.\n\nHe glanced briefly at the drawers and then said, neatly shifting the blame back on to me, \"You've put too much in the drawer.\" What did he mean too much, it was a perfectly average drawer and if I couldn't fill it with trousers then what could I use it for? Anyone could see it was unfit for purpose, end of story. I pressed the matter and in the end he reluctantly agreed to take in two of the drawers to be re-glued.\n\nWhen I got it back even I could see this wasn't going to work for more than a couple of weeks but I was tired of pushing and just hoped the New Zealand glue would be better than that they used in China. It wasn't, even with a reduced load of trousers, the base soon began to bend free from the base and reducing its load even further made no difference. So I just put up with it and went on with life. There is much to be gained in terms of peace of mind from such an attitude but what it doesn't give you is resolution or satisfaction.\n\nI don't know how many years passed with a chest of drawers that had only five of its seven drawers fully functional. To compensate, I just used more coat hangers in my large closet and with time I forgot all about the problem. Yes occasionally one of the bottom drawers jammed but with a bit of fiddling I freed it again.\n\nI think it was Bob Lambourne from next door who precipitated new action. He took a friendly interest in the problem I had with the chest of drawers and soon recognised what the problem was, and how to repair it. With the drawer empty, we, or perhaps more honestly Bob, with a tiny amount of help from me, worked the plywood bottom back into its slot and then it looked just as good as on the day I bought it. He repeated the treatment on the next drawer up and all that was left to do was to strengthen the bottoms of the two drawers and the job would be complete. The chest of drawers would then be better than new. It was just a matter of finding time to complete the job so I relaxed. What happened next took Bruce and I by surprise.\n\nSome days later I noticed that the drawers were back in place and so were my trousers. I assumed, I think not unreasonably, that Bob had bitten the bullet and completed the job without telling me. I soon discovered I was wrong in the most spectacular way. When I cheerfully yanked one of the filled drawers open to inspect the work done by Bob, before my disbelieving eyes the drawer disintegrated. Without thinking, I pulled at the other drawer with the same result. All Bob's good work was in those few moments destroyed and the damage was less than superficial. When I showed Bob the new state of the drawers he loses all interest in the project, even completing the disintegration and putting the pieces into the garage. \"Go out and buy a new one,\" is his firmly expressed advice.\n\nOf course I looked for a scapegoat, someone to blame for filling the unfinished drawers but sensibly everyone I asked denied all knowledge. So I took Bob's advice and went out to look for a chest of drawer to buy. Finding something that met my fairly stringent requirements of the right height, width and breadth, with a dark rimu stain was not going to be easy.\n\nThe frustrating thing about this search was the fact that, for very sensible reasons, Palmerston North furniture shops do not want to have unnecessary stock hanging around in the hope that someone will take it off their hands. So all they could show me were catalogues, but buying furniture out of catalogues doesn't appeal to me, I want to see the chest of drawers, hold it in my hands and, above all else, to test the bottoms of the drawers before I buy it.\n\nSo I returned with my tail between my legs, to our garage and retrieved the pieces of the old chest of drawers. I then searched through the Yellow Pages for a handyman who would rebuild it in a strengthened base that would allow the drawers to be filled with trousers without breaking up. I turn up the name of a person who sounded perfect for the job. He is a house husband who can only work when his children are at school, which suited me perfectly. Sean is from South Africa and has a Chinese wife. He has a cheerful 'can do' attitude, and is a pleasure to work with. He took the pieces away and returned a week later with a fully restored chest of drawers, strongly built and able to fulfil its original function. I also learned that Sean was teaching himself how to play the piano, and my admiration of him increased greatly. Unfortunately a few months later we discover his wife is expecting another baby and for the moment he is out of circulation.\n\nSo ends the sorry saga of the chest of drawers, but at least it had a happy ending.\n\n## On the Urgent Writing of Wills\n\nJust as with the investigation of a plane crash usually reveals it was not just a single event but a chain of events that finally brings a plane down, so it was with the making of Gordon's will.\n\nLet me make it clear at the start none of this arose because my brother Gordon had not already arranged for his lawyer, Barry Britten, prepare his final will and testament. Gordon and his second wife Janet had, with the aid of Barry, carefully thought through what must be done to protect the adult children from their first marriages. It was not difficult because each invested the same amount in their family home, and both had three children, so it was clear that each set of children should inherit half the value of the house.\n\nFor twenty-five years I thought nothing more about their wills. It was none of my business and I wasn't interested. But then in 2014 Gordon was struck down by what turned out to be his final illness, the question of his will came back to bite me. After Gordon entered hospital, he said to me, \"I need to contact Barry Britten about my will.\" I was a little surprised to hear him talking about his will but obviously it was a matter of some importance for him, so I acted quickly giving him Barry's business phone number and again forgot about the matter. Gordon did mention that it was something to do with the inheritance of Janet's children, Tom, Jane and Kev, but I knew Barry would sort things out quickly enough, after all Barry was a long-time friend of Janet's.\n\nAbout now Bruce and I went off to the West Coast of the South Island for a holiday with Bruce's sister and brother in law, and I was able to forget for a time, not only the question of Gordon's will, but also the serious nature of his illness. It was a welcome break.\n\nWe arrived back in Palmerston North on Sunday 4th January to find events at a critical phase. Gordon told me, \"I'm going to have a big operation tomorrow with two surgeons investigating the cause of the problems with my bowel and bladder. The Doctors warned me I might not survive the operation.\"\n\nGordon is a wonderfully patient and stoic person who takes everything the health system can throw at him with calmness and acceptance. At the same time he is also the most pessimistic of patients but that he shares with his family. There is worse news, \"Barry hasn't done anything about my will and he's gone away for a week's holiday.\" I can't believe my ears, this is not the efficient Barry Britten that Gordon and Janet always talked about. Gordon's voice is dead with unhappy acceptance of a situation that he cannot now change but so desperately wants to. This is no state of mind to be in as he prepares for such a serious operation. It is unfair on Gordon. Why I ask myself has Barry been so remiss in his duty?\n\nI ask Gordon for more information, \"What's wrong with your will?\"\n\n\"There is no mention of Janet's children in my will; everything is going to my children.\"\n\nNow I'm unhappy too. Janet's son Tom in particular has been of tremendous help to both Janet and Gordon. Since Janet's death Tom has been a supportive friend to Gordon and they have worked on many projects together. It is no wonder Gordon is upset.\n\nIt is now about three o'clock on Sunday afternoon; Gordon enters the operating theatre the next morning. I take notes as Gordon tells me, \"I looked at my will just before I came to hospital and realised it was wrong. I want Tom, Jane and Kev to get their fair share.\"\n\nI leave the hospital with his notes but I know that a few hand-written notes are not going to overturn a valid will that makes no mention of Janet's children but I know someone who might be able to help, and that's our neighbour who has the sort of careful logical mind that would have served him well in the legal profession, just as it has in the field of computing.\n\nHe thinks over the problem carefully and then says, \"I have a very simple will. I can write Gordon a similar will using my will as a template.\"\n\nI jump at the offer. \"We must get to the hospital by 7:30 to have the new will signed by Gordon in the presence of witnesses.\n\nThe will our neighbour produces, is a model of clarity, elegant simplicity and is absolutely unambiguous. He will be one witness and Bruce the other. I read the new will clearly and carefully to Gordon and ask him whether that is what he wants done. He affirms it is. The witnesses sign and Gordon has a new will.\n\nI do have one slightly worrying thought namely that it is unlikely that a lawyer as experienced as Barry would make such a simple mistake, but all I know is that there is no mention of Janet's children in Gordon's present will and there should be. Besides, if Barry has approached the problem from a different point of view, he can simply write one more will for Gordon to sign after the operation and nothing is lost.\n\nIn the event after they investigate the surgeons decided there is no point in trying to remove the cancer, it has spread too far. So Gordon survives the operation but now has a death sentence hanging over his head. When I check with our resident lawyer, Dawn Patchett, she confirms the will we prepared for Gordon is valid and is now his official will.\n\nThings now move fast. During the following three days the doctors struggle to control his pain so they can send him home but make little progress. It is torments me to see him in pain. Finally his son Ian says we must have a conference with the doctors to find out what is happening. Everyone agrees and I find the hospital staff is more than willing to set up a meeting. When we arrive at 2 p.m. in the meeting room we are in for a huge shock. They introduce us to a woman from the hospice. Why on earth should she be involved we ask ourselves, we are here to improve Gordon's condition not condemn him to death. However the message she gives is both urgent and distressing.\n\n\"His organs are shutting down. Sometimes it is possible to reverse this process but usually it isn't. We need to get Gordon into the hospice.\"\n\nBy 4:30 he is in a bed at the hospice, just as shell shocked as the rest of us. Ian and I are angry that this has been sprung on us. Ian's brother Doug, wife Catherine and their sons William and Jack are on their way over from Australia and it now looks as if they may not make it in time.\n\nThings do not improve, the next day when I visit him and ask how he is feeling he makes a typical Gordon comment simultaneously unexpected and appropriate, \"I don't know whether I'm dying or dozing.\"\n\nGordon has no wish to linger. I remind him that he had practise dying when he had his cardiac arrest, fortunately while he was on a hospital bed and not home alone. That's what he wants now. He tells the hospital staff he does not wish to be resuscitated. He dies two days later without too much more pain\n\nThe following Saturday I call Barry Britten's cell phone and discover he Is back in town already. He is startled to learn that Gordon is now in a hospice. I don't think he realised how unwell Gordon was but then neither did we.\n\nBob and I go to meet Barry in his office on the Sunday morning. It is then Bob and I learned that Barry had written separate wills for Janet and Gordon, wills that in Gordon's case make no mention of Janet's children. After Janet's death her children receive their share of the family home under a clause that states Gordon can live in the house for the rest of his life.\n\nBut Barry has been too smart for his own good. By assuming he would be around to direct matters on Gordon's death, he felt no need to draw attention in Gordon's will to the full dimension of the will Barry has written for them. The consequence is that we have written a will which effectively takes away half the share of the house Gordon's children should be receiving. Put another way, Janet's three children will receive three quarters of the value of the family house instead of the half share Janet and Gordon wanted them to receive.\n\nI am not sure I want to share this knowledge with Ian, Doug and Gary Buckley. Perhaps I should just leave town for a few weeks.\n\nI say to Barry, \"I think you were a bit too clever, arranging things so no mention is made of Janet's will in Gordon's will.\"\n\n\"But when I talked to Gordon on the phone before I left, he seemed to understand the will,\" Barry tells me by way of explanation for why he did not go to the hospital to talk with Gordon himself.\n\nI say \"Gordon was very sick in those last few weeks\"\n\n\"Well,\" Barry said, \"We can see Gordon and sort things out with him\"\n\n\"Barry,\" I say, \"Gordon died last Monday.\"\n\nNow it is Barry's turn to be taken by surprise.\n\nHe is still very positive. He says, \"Tom, Jane and Kev are reasonable people, I'm sure they won't try to force their right to another quarter of the house.\"\n\nThe real problem has been caused by the Christmas-New Year shut down, of the legal system. All the lawyers take leave at the same time. I went on holiday assuming that Barry had dealt with the matter of the will but he hadn't at least to Gordon's satisfaction. Another complicating factor was that Barry was himself lined up to have a heart operation and was not in good health.\n\nYou can imagine how embarrassed I was when I realised I have deprived Ian, Doug and Gary of one half of their entitlement. I am not comfortable having the matter of the will becoming public before Gordon's funeral. At such times emotions can be a at a very high pitch. So I keep my profile low throughout and leave it all up to Barry.\n\nOf course when they find out what has happened Tom, Jane and Kev do understand and the conditions in the new will are not enforced. Thank heavens for that. I can sleep soundly again. The evening I gave Tom the news, he found it hugely amusing, as did his wife Nicki. I was the only one who couldn't get a good laugh until everything was returned to what Gordon and Janet wanted.\n\nPlease let me know if at some time in the future you want a will written. I'll be glad to help you out. I think I can do better the second time around.\n\n## Finding a New Cloth Pack is not so Easy\n\nSometimes you come across something so simple, so elegant and so fit for purpose, you don't want to lose it. Of course everything falls apart in the end and no matter how often you try to mend it, finally you have to admit that its practical life is over.\n\nUsually there is no problem finding a replacement, yes it might not be quite as good as the old one but you tolerate these short comings and get on with your life. However occasionally none of the replacements will do and, even in the age of the World Wide Web, you can find nothing approaching the quality of the original. This was the case of my oh so simple pack, originally designed for children.\n\nIt was Bruce who gave the pack to me, well actually he gave me two of these packs. He bought them from _The New Zealand Nature Company_ one of those shops that and use their profits for environmental initiatives. He gets his presents from them every year.\n\nAt first I didn't realise how well designed the bags were, after all they look like what they were, the sort of bag you give to a child starting school. There was nothing showy or fussy about the bags. They are free of ornamentation apart from one pocket in the middle of the back. It was made at a time when more and more complicated bags were appearing on the market, packs that had so many pockets it was easy to lose something after you had stored it away. Much thought has gone into the design of such bags. They served every purpose you can think of and many you hadn't. Of course these new bags are never going to be as light as my cloth bags, even if they are made out of the most modern artificial materials. I was told the new miracle materials can even breathe, but I don't need my bag to breathe because when the bag is filled it adopts a spherical shape which allows air flow around virtually the whole bag. What brilliant design, why should it be wasted on school children? Did I mention that the canvas like material in these bags stretches, not much, but enough to allow just that little extra load, and it never complains no matter how much stuff I cram inside.\n\nOver the years, and I had the bags for many, many years, I came to love them more and more. When I was travelling I could empty the small cloth bag and tuck it away in my big pack. It took as much space as a pair of underpants, but it was always ready to spring into action when I needed a day pack. That is something I could never do with the new multi-pocketed, unyielding new packs.\n\nPacking these bags sometimes took a little thought, after all there is no padding along the back, and if I poke a hard object, such as a camera, in the wrong position it jabs against my back and becomes uncomfortable. Fortunately the designers of my bag have this covered too. I put soft objects such as a rain coat or an extra jersey across my back and the problem is solved. These things provide extra padding without eroding the bag's carrying capacity.\n\nAll good things must come to an end eventually. Small repairs can be made, and if something does not actually create a problem then I ignored it. When a buckle stopped working, I simply tied the cloth straps with an old-fashioned knot. When the zip gave out on the small pocket at the back, I suddenly realised that I didn't need to use this extra pocket and boxed on without it. The packs took all this abuse cheerfully; they metaphorically gritted their teeth, and carried on. I was proud of them. I didn't want the bags to ever give up.\n\nFinally more serious signs of decay began to appear. The much abused material the bags were made of ripped under the pressure of my continual over stuffing. Enough is enough, after all they were really only designed for use by small children. Over subsequent years I put up with the rips that appeared, despite the risk I was running of losing things. When the holes became too big, I resorted to rows of safety pins. When even these measures proved inadequate, I searched out a local cobbler. He looked long and hard at my ripped packs. I was hoping he would enjoy the challenge but being by nature a taciturn male he said nothing. Finally he agreed to patch up the holes. When I got it back it wasn't pretty. He never said it would; and I didn't care. His solution was to sew much stronger material around the areas weakened by age.\n\nClearly these were no longer new bags, there was the patching, the small pocket at the back now hung open all the time, and the straps were crudely knotted but it worked and the repairs didn't cost a fortune, although I didn't care how much it cost. A few more years passed but then things started to go seriously wrong. The material began to rot, a rot that could not be stopped.\n\nI launched a search began for another bag, just as light and just as flexible.\n\nWhen you have perfection it is not easy to replace it. I bought a pretty blue and white cloth bag in Indonesia but it was a parody of my old bag. When one of the straps ripped loose, I put it aside. A week or two later Bruce repaired the strap and started using the bag. It looked very good on him.\n\nWhen we were in a large department store in Bangkok, Bruce spotted another possible replacement. It was a bright orange pack made out of a thin plastic material. Like my first pack it was meant for use by school children. But the material in this pack resisted all my attempts to stretch it. Resenting this restriction I fought for more space. The inevitable happened, the seams began to fray and when I still kept testing its limits, the pack split. Since it was no longer fit for purpose, and this time even Bruce, despite all his mending skills, could not reverse the damage, I had to throw it away. In a perverse way I counted this as a kind of victory. I'd never really liked it.\n\nFinally I returned to Bruce's initial suggestion, and began to look around for someone who could make a new pack identical to the first, someone who would unpick the seams of the old one and use the pieces to provide a pattern for a new pack, identical to the first.\n\nAs often happens, I found the solution near at hand. It was the woman we'd used to shorten Bruce's new trousers. He can never buy off-the peg trousers that will fit. The question is whether her sewing machines could handle the heavy material I needed for the pack and if it could whether she would agree to do the project. When I go in to ask, she also takes her time studying the torn, stained scraps of material I take into her before finally agreeing, \"If you can find the material your old pack is made out of, I will do it.\"\n\nI don't know what the fabric was called let alone where I could find any. So began a lonely trek around fabric shops looking for more of this mystery cloth. For a while it looked as if my search was doomed to failure. The women, and in fabric shops the sales people are usually women, seemed never to have seen such a material. One shop had a strong cotton based material that did give a little when tugged and it was a most attractive scarlet colour, so I bought a meter. The woman in _The Hussien_ , claimed a yard would be sufficient.\n\nThen I had a brainwave, perhaps I was looking in the wrong places. Perhaps I needed an upholsterer. I knew just the shop to try, Shailers. I had played hockey with the sons of the owners years ago and yes the shop was still there. I walked into a wonderfully tangled workshop, which had bolts of material around the walls and on all the big benches, as well as every kind device needed to cut fabric. Disappointingly, the guy who served me showed no signs of recognising me after forty years, but he did know his business. He took one look at the torn bits I showed him, paused for about two seconds and said, \"It's Duck.\"\n\n\"Do you have any for sale,\" I ask anxiously.\n\nA quick \"Yes,\" and he produces the remains of a bolt of the duck.\n\nThe rest is easy. All it required on my part was patience. I assured the woman in _The Hussien_ that there was no hurry and there was no deadline. She could fit the work in around all her other business. Finally out of the blue, late one Saturday afternoon the phone rings. It took me a couple of minutes before I realised who was calling, but when she mentioned packs I knew who it was. My packs were ready. My delight knew no bounds.\n\nFrustrated by never having enough time to finish my job because of the multiple interruptions that occurred in the shop, often by people who think they need things immediately, the woman from _The Hussien_ finally took my job home and worked on it at weekends.\n\nI told her how pleased I was yet again but when I called in on Monday it was her mother who gave me the bags. But I returned later in the week when she was there to tell her what a wonderful job she had done. The only question is why didn't I take Bruce's advice years ago. I think it shows up a weakness in my personality, namely my tendency to give up after meeting the first road block. The failure of the cobbler to take on the job of making a new pack somehow convinced me my best chance was gone. It wasn't and my much delayed persistence, in the end paid off.\n\nThe packs are just as good as I remember them and it is a pleasure to have them back. For your information I include the technical details of duck.\n\n**Cotton duck** \\- (from Dutch _doek_ ,\"linen canvas\"), also simply **duck** , sometimes **duck cloth** or **duck canvas** , commonly called \"canvas\" outside the textile industry, is a heavy, plain woven cotton fabric. There is also linen duck, which is less often used. Duck is used in a wide range of applications, from sneakers to over tents to sandbags. Duck fabric is woven with 2 yarns together in the warp and a single yarn in the weft. By far the most popular workwear fabric, cotton duck is a weighty, plain-but-strong woven canvas. Despite its name, this hardy workwear fabric has nothing to do with waterfowl or their feathers. The term \"duck\" comes from the Dutch word _doek_ , which refers to a linen canvas once used for sailors' white trousers and outerwear. The word \"cotton\" has been added to modern duck items simply to distinguish them from traditional linen duck. Interestingly enough, though, cotton duck is related to another type of work-ready duck. Duct tape, often called \"duck tape,\" was originally manufactured by adding an adhesive backing to regular cotton duck.\n\nThe advantages of cotton duck workwear fabric are many. For example it has a relatively smooth surface that isn't prone to snagging and tearing.It is probably second only to leather in the class of true workwear fabrics in its ability to block the wind (which can be more important than anything on a blustery winter jobsite).It is somewhat burn-resistant, albeit still certainly flammable. If you're sleeping by a campfire or welding in the shop, a few small sparks or hot ashes won't ruin the fabric, unlike nylon or other synthetics that end up with tiny pinholes everywhere in the same situation. It may feel stiff and uncomfortable at first, but after being washed and worn a few times should feel quite comfortable.)\n\n## Dodging Logging Trucks, Not a Game for the Faint Hearted\n\nScotts Road takes off into the hills a few kilometres south of Palmerston North. If, as you drive up Scotts Road, you turn left at the point where the tar seal ends and the gravel road begins, you will drive up to the home of Martine van Hove. This was the first house built on the road and I think it still remains the most attractive. In recent years, I have developed the habit of taking food for a shared lunch, and eating with Martine after I finish my walk to the top of the hill and back.\n\nScotts Road has two quite distinct characters; from mid-spring, through summer and most of Autumn, it buzzes with the sound of big logging trucks, as a Pine forest is cleared on top of the hill and the logs begin their long trip to China, while in winter a peaceful silence reigns, That is not to say there isn't any traffic in winter but it's sporadic and includes few big trucks. I love the road in both its moods.\n\nThe summer is the most exciting time, because you must stay alert to avoid meeting a logging truck at one of the many narrow sections, although as a walker I can always pull myself clear by clinging onto a wire fence, a manoeuvre that is not available to the truckies. The truck drivers are very considerate. I imagine, because of my regularity, I have become a familiar figure on the road. As the road twists and turns there are places where the sound of a truck is muffled, until it rounds a hair pin bend, and suddenly the pulse of the big motor is all around me. I look frantically around for somewhere to allow the truck to pass safely, safely that is for me, the truck and drivers have no such worries.\n\nEven when I hear a truck coming early, I find it unsettling, because although they may not be racing drivers, they do drive as if they hope to become one sometime soon. Given the faintest sniff of anything approaching a straight bit of road, they push the pedal to the floor and the powerful motor responds with a satisfying roar which as much as it may please the driver rather intimidates me. Then as the truck goes around another sharp bend, all noise disappears again and I am left wondering when it will reappear and where I will be when that happens.\n\nThis is when I play my own game of chicken. There is no way I am going to huddle in a safe corner waiting until the truck arrives. No, that would be wasting time and I am walking to get exercise, not to hang around at a convenient corner. So I hurry on from one safe corner to the next trying to get as far as I can without creating a confrontation where there can only be one winner and it's not going to be me.\n\nYou may be wondering what it is like in the summer for people who live at the end of Scotts Road when the logging trucks are hogging the road. This is not a problem for them. To avoid uncomfortable meetings in awkward places, the locals contact the truck drivers using Wi-Fi or radio phones to check when they will get a clear run. Casual users of the road must just hope they will make it through unhindered.\n\nTowards the end of the logging season, pressure to complete the contact comes on, or perhaps it is just that the logs begin to build up, and the company throws more trucks at the problem making things even more interesting for us walkers As I write this I realise that over the long summer season I have never seen another walker on Scotts Road which may seem strange to you since Scotts Road is part of the Te Aroroa National Walkway. The reason is simple, for much of the summer on week days it is closed to walkers, but of course not to me. When I walk the Scotts Road hill, technically I am not walking the Te Aroroa Track which runs the whole length of New Zealand but not the whole length of Scotts Road which is quite different. Even if I was on the Te Aroroa Track I'd still ignore any warnings, wouldn't you?\n\nOn one memorable Wednesday near the end of the logging season this year, I experienced truck madness. I lost track of the exact number that passed me in both directions during my hour's walk. There were at least eleven trucks and there were few breaks in the traffic. The trucks just kept coming. I enjoyed an almost continuous game of chicken, culminating with a double meeting near the sharpest bend on the road.\n\nHere's how it happened. An empty truck passes me going uphill not far beyond this sharp bend and then to my surprise I hear high on the hill the sound of a loaded truck as it emerges around a bend and heads down the hill toward me and the other tuck. I wonder why the drivers contacted each other to avoid a confrontation? Perhaps they were both over confident; a confidence that is obviously wrongly placed. I hear both trucks come to a halt above the sharp bend and there is a long pause as they try to decide what to do. There is not enough a room for them to pass where they have met.\n\nThen I hear the sound of the empty truck backing down the hill toward me and my bend. This makes sense as the empty truck has carries its trailer on the back and hence is the significantly shorter and backing is easier for that driver. Knowing what is about to happen, I place myself in what I hoped is a safe position on the inside of the sharp bend. I don't want to compromise either driver during the tricky operation they now faced. The empty truck backs into view and stops presumably at a position he hopes will give enough space for the loaded truck to squeeze past. What now? The downhill truck comes into view and moves very slowly as far forward as the space allows. This move is enough to allow the truck coming down the hill to make a little progress forward. Its movement in turn provides enough space for the uphill truck to make a little more progress up the hill. This truck shuffling continues as first one makes progress, making room for the other truck to make progress in the opposite direction, until at last the downhill driver accelerates away leaving the uphill truck to drive on to the top. With them both gone I in my turn am able to continue up hill, all in one piece but pleased that this is an exceptional day. In any event I usually meet at least three or four trucks during my weekly games of chicken.\n\nAny Wednesday through the summer you are welcome to join me. It is fun.\n\n## When Having Tickets is not Enough\n\nI suppose when, like us, you buy tickets for many shows there will occasionally be mix-ups. They usually happen at a time when you are certain everything is in hand and confident that nothing can go wrong, which is what happened the night we went to the famous, super-popular musical _Mama Mia_. This is a show we enjoyed when it came out as a movie and again when it was staged in Wellington, now the local opera society is putting it on at The Regent Theatre so we are going again and Kay and Neville are coming too. Yes I can count and I bought the four tickets we need two or three months ago.\n\nBut when I checked the tickets a couple of weeks before we go to the show, I find to my alarm that I only have three tickets. Feeling embarrassed I phone Neville and check that he did want to come to _Mama Mia_. He confirmed he is coming and I immediately hurry off to the Regent Theatre and buy another ticket in a seat as close to the others as is possible. Then I relaxed, until an hour later, when Neville phones back telling me not to buy the extra ticket, \"Remember in order to get a student concession I had to go to the theatre myself and show them my student card. So I've got my ticket with me here.\" The theatre never gives refunds but it doesn't matter, I'll give the extra ticket to Kay's husband Ross. So everything is fixed, and the number of tickets equals the number of people, which is what I always strive for. Again I relaxed.\n\nHowever then Kay phones to ask me to pick up the four tickets Serena Richdale has bought on line. She will get them the day of the show, which coincidently is Aidan Murphy's birthday. I decide it is safest if I keep Serena's tickets at our house. Kay has a very busy life and it is sometimes hard for her to keep track of such minor details as where she left the tickets.\n\nThe not so secret place where we keep all our tickets is Bruce's sock drawer, can you think of a better place? On the night we go to _Mama Mia_ , as usual, I grab the tickets half an hour before show time. Of course I double check to be sure I have the four tickets we need and check that they are for _Mama Mia_ , using a system that is almost fool proof, but as it turns out tonight, not completely fool proof. You will of course have spotted the obvious mistake, but I didn't. As I said we were in a hurry.\n\nWhen at the theatre I look through the tickets I brought, a troubling fact emerges, all our tickets number successively, even though I bought one ticket later than the others and in a different row. This contradiction puzzles me and when I point it out to Kay and Bruce they agree life is full of surprises. I push on confident I know what is going on. It is only when Kay discovers there are people already in our seats that the penny (or is that cent) drops. I have brought Serena's tickets to the theatre and our tickets are safe back in our trusty socks drawer at home. It is only four minutes before the show starts. There are plenty of empty seats we can sit down in, but then there will be no tickets for Bret and Serena on the 29th. Something must be done.\n\nKay follows me out of the theatre telling whoever wants to listen what will happen to her if Serena finds out we have used her tickets on the wrong night, tickets that are now useless as they have been torn in two by the usher. Kay even stops to talk to the man who is desperately scanning tickets for the last theatre goers who are trying to reach their seats before the curtain goes up. I pause for a moment and then hurry on with Kay tagging along behind.\n\nFortunately the woman on the booking desk is a person I know well and more importantly she knows me. Kay starts again to spill out her story about what will happen to her if Serena can't get into her show, and I keep trying to settle her down. Meanwhile, the lady behind the desk, the woman whose name I must now find out, has sprung into action and is already checking to see what seats we should be in for tonight's performance and writing a note to give to the ushers. She is disappointed the people on the door had not noticed that our tickets are for next week's show.\n\nOur desk lady thinks for a moment checks the work roster and then tells us me her daughter will be on the door next week, and she will allow Bret and family into their seats. Then she checks again and discovers it will be her who will be working that night. She takes the stubs of Serena's tickets and then I know all will be well. Kay will not be torn to shreds by an irate Serena, and her children will not need to shed tears. In brief all will be well. Living in a small city certainly has its advantages.\n\nOver the last twenty years, I have never been in a situation like this before where I hold tickets for two different parties for two different nights to the same show. Of course there is always a first time and this was it. Still I have now learned to clearly label all the tickets I am holding for other people and above all else to check the dates on tickets. Such careful checking is not in my nature especially when I think I know what is going on. But I have learned my lesson. I won't make the same mistake twice.\n\n## The Forgotten World Rail Trip\n\nThere is something either deeply flawed or brilliantly creative about promoting this trip as the Forgotten World Rail Tour, I don't know which. If the tour were truly forgotten then no one would know about it and from the promoter's point of view there is no prospect of making money running a business where no one comes. In fact the name is cleverly designed to pique your interest and make you want to know more. But how can anything in this day and age be truly forgotten when everything is knowable by appealing to Mr. Google.\n\nWhen you read the name how can you not be interested? You are offered a day trip along a real railway line driving your own rail cart and enjoying interesting and often beautiful scenery along the way, with enough stops and food, to ensure the driving doesn't become a chore. Driving these rail cars is less demanding than driving a car, as there is no steering, all you have to do is push a throttle to vary the speed depending on the tightness of the curves or your interest in the scenery. Intrigued? Well it's all yours for the reasonable sum of NZ$250, reasonable once you take into account the length of the trip, the free food, the three guides (used in the loosest meaning of that word) and the people who drive you the three quarter hour bus trip through the beautiful hills back to your starting point. If you want to you can even spend a night in the wonderfully named, Whangamomona Hotel (try to say Whangamomona quickly six times if you can) in a town that even issues its own passports.\n\nAre you convinced?\n\nWell we certainly were. We signed up with Graeme and Kay Philpott (Bruce's parents) for the trip from Whangamomona to Okahukura on March 7, at a time of the year when the weather is virtually guaranteed to be fine and warm. Except with a week to go the long range weather forecast begins to promise rain and lots of it. The rail carts do have plastic coverings that can be lowered to keep out the rain, but it definitely isn't going to be the way we imagined it when we booked several weeks ago.\n\nAnd as Bruce points out, this isn't going to be just a simple weather front that will quickly pass, no it is a twin front where if the first one doesn't get you then the second one certainly will. Both fronts are coloured red on the weather map which means more than 20 mm of rain from each. Looking at the same weather map up in Hawera, Graeme and Kay lose their nerve.\n\nIt is Kay who makes the call, \"It's going to be very wet. We think we should change our booking.\" Everyone agrees and I am assigned the task of finding another time. To do this without penalty, we have to decide before Wednesday evening and we are constraint, we must go on a weekend (to conserve Bruce's leave for our trip to Fiji in April).\n\nAs I soon discover finding a suitable day is not just difficult but impossible. This is the busiest time of the year for the company, and although they can offer us Sunday March 15th this is on WOMAD weekend and we will have our friend Walt Abell up from Christchurch staying with us then. A quick call has Walt agreeing to join us for the Rail trip and I call the company to arrange everything. It is only then now I find out that their web site is not up to date and in fact the March 15 trip is fully booked, as are all the other weekends up until May.\n\nWe don't want May, it will be getting too cold by then, so we stay with March 7th and take our chance with the approaching fronts. There are still mid-week trips that are not fully booked and I offer Kay and Graeme one of these, but faced with the choice, they too decide to stay with March 7th. As Kay tells Bruce, \"There is no telling that it will not be wet on any other day.\" So all we can do is watch anxiously the movement of the two fronts and hope for the best.\n\nOn Friday night it is clear that first front will be through by Saturday morning, and that leaves a clear weather gap before we are hit by the full force of the second front. It is going to be a close run thing, as the gap will end early in the afternoon of March 7. I put lots of rain gear in my pack and buy a two dollar plastic covering to provide additional protection.\n\nWhen we mill around with our fellow travellers outside the Whangamomona Hotel at nine o'clock on Saturday the weather is perfect, warm and clear exactly as we hoped it would be. Unfortunately the organisers seem determined to squander the precious minutes as they take their time dividing us into two teams. The long list of safety instructions chews up more time and then when I think we are about to start, it is found that one couple have gone missing. When they are finally found, they smugly tell us they have already done the trip one way and don't think they should waste time listening to the instructions a second time. Their selfishness wastes another twenty minutes. I could have strangled them.\n\nWe finally set off at our full speed of 20 kilometres per hours (limited by a governor) at 20 meter intervals. Orange lights on the tops of the carts flash their warnings of our approach. Everything is just as we imagined it, interesting, beautiful countryside to see and, provided we can push out of our minds the uncertain question of the second front, we have not a care in the world. But I for one can't forget the approaching rain.\n\nI appoint Bruce as the driver of our rail cart. He quickly masters the foot controls and we are on our way with a clattering and rattling that would have done justice to a loaded freight train. These staccato sounds form complicated patterns that interweave, sometimes reinforcing each other, at other times they improvise individual solo performances in a way that earns my full attention, while never allowing me time to completely understand them. On the other hand the gaps between the pieces of rail aggressively thunder out a rock steady beat as the metal wheels crash into the spaces before the cart settles once again into its relatively gentle but insistently irregular back ground chatter. For those with more sensitive ears, plugs are provided in the glove box of the cart.\n\nWe were warned to take warm clothing and I for one do, but we don't need it. Even with the front window turned down, the breeze generated by the movement of the cart, is not unpleasant. Besides taking good photos is impossible with the window up as we discover later in the day. Of course, the cars don't stay 20 meters apart. Ahead of us is a four-seater cart and whenever the passengers want to take a photo they slow right down and of course we must do the same, so Bruce finds himself frequently adjusting the speed, while remaining unconvinced that the same photos can't be taken at full speed.\n\nAs the morning wears on Bruce begins to play with my mind as he tries to stop our cart closer and closer to the one ahead without actually hitting it. I end up closing my eyes when a crash seems inevitable. It is easier on my nerves and quenches any need I have to beg him to leave a larger gap. We do have individual seat belts but they are not tested at least in our cart. But late in our trip my seat belt gives up the ghost and defeats our combined attempts to lock it.\n\nI lose a little confidence in our leader Ian, when he is half-way through his briefing at our first stop, before he belatedly realise we have lost one of our carts. Only when it appears from out of the tunnel and joins us, does he a little shame faced say. \"I should have counted the carts.\" I hope he does if our cart goes missing.\n\nOn this warm summers' morning, the countryside looks mouth-wateringly beautiful, as we potter along through fields of wild flowers and patches of scrub and bush, but of course everything looks lovely on a day like this. Somehow in the magic of the morning even derelict houses in places where there had been towns and battered rusting sheds take on the look of something from a fairy tale.\n\nThe party of three ladies in the rail cart ahead of us continue to cause Bruce some frustration as they still insist on coming to an almost a complete stop when they want to take a photo. This habit condemns Bruce to frequent glances ahead to ensure he does not inadvertently crash into their cart. Steering is not an issue but in our cart, we do have a steering wheel which is held in place by stretchies to prevent Bruce forgetting and sending our cart off the track.\n\nBuilding a railway line through this hilly country was a massive enterprise that took thirty-one years of hard physical labour at a time when there were no large earth moving machines to make the job easy. Work began at the Stratford end in 1902 and the last section was completed in 1933. At one point a tunnel from the south end of the line emerged at a deep gully. Using wheel barrows how do you do you think they did this? The answer was by building a trellis bridge across the gully and then tipping soil from what would become the second tunnel into the gully and to continue tipping soil until the bridge is no longer needed. A neat solution I think you will agree.\n\nWhen we stop in Tangarakau for morning tea, a man appears from nowhere with a bench full of jars of honey and jam, and warm knitted hats for sale. He has two goats with him and as we prepare to leave the goats are freed to clean up the scraps of food dropped by us tourists. Apparently the goats meet every train. Just south of Tangarakau is a large forest of manuka trees which a little earlier in the summer were white with flowers and busy with the bees from 600 hives which provide 20 tonnes of manuka honey to the lucky land owners. Manuka honey is like gold because of its valuable medicinal properties.\n\nIn Palmerston North we have a friend called Shirley Wilson who frequently spins stories of growing up as a child in Tokirima, and today we stop in Tokirima for lunch. I haven't been studying the map so this is a complete surprise for me. I must say there isn't much left of the town, it's more a memory than a place. A local tells me proudly that the town still has its school and number kids have gone up to six. Shirley will be pleased.\n\nThe cloud is increasing but still there is enough blue sky to allow me to imagine a childhood in these hills, but these aren't the rugged slipping hills of my home town of Taihape, and this disappointments me. We make our own sandwiches and they taste all the better for being eaten out of doors.\n\nNow everything begins to change. The deep front that hovered over our heads like the sword of damocles from the start of the day begins to close in on us and the drizzle starts, followed by light rain. For a time we try to pretend this is not happening and keep our front windscreen up but eventually we have to concede to the inevitable and lower our plastic blinds. They may be technically transparent but with spots of rain covering them and no windscreen wipers visibility becomes minimal. Bruce has to raise the side of the plastic to take the occasional photo. The rain thickens further and photos, for me at least, become impossible.\n\nAt the next advertised stop the rain is pouring down and, Ian, looking like a drowned rat, walks down our convoy asking each of us whether we want to get out, or just to keep driving to the end. There are no dissenting votes and we push on abandoning our sightseeing.\n\nIt doesn't matter, the first half of the day has been perfect, and we are just happy the rain has held off for so long. As Bruce continues to try to get shots around the edge of the plastic, I start to cool off. So I pile on all the clothes I have. I even surround myself with the wool blanket they provide. The side zips on our cart are not closing completely and this doesn't make things any warmer.\n\nAt the end we have time to stand in a shed and watch the rail carts being turned around for the return tomorrow.\n\nFortunately the skies clear as we start back on a bus to Whakamomona and in the changing sunlight the steep hills make an impressive display that contrasts sharply with the artificial flatness of the rail line. I am lucky enough to be right up front and able to keep snapping photos until it is almost dark.\n\nWe arrive back at the Whangamomona Hotel at about eight, and get a quick meal before starting the hour and three quarter journey back to Hawera in the Prius. During the trip over the first two passes we are treated to a fireworks display of sheet lightening as the rain returns with added ferocity. At one point I am forced to stop completely as a solid wall of water advances down the road toward us. Driven by a strong wind the water crashes into the car like a horizontal waterfall completely blocking out all visibility for several seconds. Fortunately the storm starts to relent as we get nearer Stratford.\n\nIt has been a memorable day.\n\n## Fast Tracking Linda's US Passport\n\nAs Mike and Linda prepare for their trip to Fiji, things start to pile up on them. However despite the growing list of things to do before they leave, they are confident they have enough time, after all their departure to Fiji is not until May 12th so there is still almost a month to go. But I must say it's an impressive list.\n\nLinda spells it out for me. First they must change the insurance on the house, farm and car, and this definitely can't wait. They have also signed up to bundle their TV, Internet and phone, never realising that the new system to program the TV is nearly impossible to use. Then there is the program they want to hold for the _Inland Communities Fellowship of Reconciliation_ at the local community college. They must also interview a student applicant for an internship position with the ICFOR and then there is the planning needed before they hold an event for the _Riverside Coalition on Police Accountability_ for 100+ people called \"Lessons from Fergerson\". If that is not enough, the day before they leave for Fiji they must attend a _Site Committee Meeting_ for their local Quaker Meeting.\n\nWhat they didn't know, what they couldn't know, was that there would be two major unplanned disasters they will also have to deal with. The first, only ten days before the big trip, is a demand by their new insurance company that they carry out extensive repair work on the roof of their house before the insurance cover will be effective. The second, and this was only four days before the Fijian trip, is the realisation that Linda's passport was valid for only three months, not enough time for her to do the Fijian trip. Suddenly all their priorities change.\n\nThe roof repairs don't require a re-roofing the whole house, but only involves replacing some missing edges and doing something called capping the edges. Yes it is a serious job, but ten days is enough time to do the work, provided someone can begin almost immediately. This is where having a relationship with a long time Handy Man, who does all sorts of maintenance work for you, pays dividends. Their handy man agrees to drop everything and concentrate on the roof and Mike and Linda relax. They know the job will be done in time.\n\nI have already made it clear that Mike and Linda are very well organised people, so I should explain why the question of a passport was not addressed weeks before. The simple fact is that at first they couldn't find Linda's passport. In the world of passports and other important documents this is a common problem, and it usually happens because the document is put in a safe place. Unfortunately this invariably means, although they know the passport is safe, they don't actually know where it is. Safe places unfortunately are usually places the owner does not use often, and often the safe place is different for different objects.\n\nTo understand what actually happened, we have to go back to 2003. In that year Linda resigned from an agency she had been a director of, and with all her responsibilities in the agency ended she put all thought of it out of her mind. Unfortunately the people who replaced her did not have the financial expertise needed with the result that in the end the agency could not meet its financial commitments. It is now more than ten years since Linda resigned but when the Bank, who held the line of credit, found that the monthly payments were no longer being met they looked around for someone to pay their debts for them. They found Linda's name in their files and expecting her to have deep pockets they demanded she pay up.\n\nNaturally she did not, and the matter was put in the hands of a collection agency. Linda demands they show their evidence. Finally the bank dug up some document which they claimed had Linda's signature on it. Can you see where this is going? When the bank's document is finally produced Linda, knows immediately it is not her signature. With their evidence looking decidedly thin the bank makes an offer, the debt will be waived if Linda pays out 10 cents for each share. Of course Linda does not do any such thing and the bank in the end drops the matter. However during this debacle, Linda's passport has ended up filed away with this documentation. With pressure now on to find the passport, a desperate search for the passport follows and finally it is found tucked away in this folder.\n\nBut this is when they found out this passport will not do. Linda needs a new passport and it has to be produced within the next four days. Mike is not someone who is short of ideas in this sort of apparently-impossible high-pressure situation. He is driving when he hears the bad news. He pulls the car over and after some thought produces a name, _Push my Passport_ and tells Linda to follow this lead. She googles the company on the computer and they agree to take on the case, a sort of case that must be routine for them. The company will provide help in filling in the passport application form and as it turns out Linda will take full advantage of their offer. With the application form complete, all she has do is print the form, sign it and send it off. The company will do the rest. Linda fills out the document and saves the document in PDF format but it won't print. It is 9 pm Wednesday and time is slipping away. If she doesn't get it printed she will not be able to send the personally signed copy of the document required by the passport office.\n\nFor lesser mortals, this might be the end of the story and Mike and Linda would have to delay their trip. But Linda is no ordinary person. She is determined to get a new passport and she has the _Rush My Passport Company_ on her side. They leap to her aid. This is the sort of crisis they are used to tackling. The company will fill in the passport application on their computer following Linda's instructions, print out the PDF file again on their computer and courier it to Linda so she can sign it. Meanwhile Linda assembles all the other documents she needs for her a passport, including two passport photos, a copy of their electronic plane ticket, her old passport, as well as prepaid labels for the _United Parcel Service_ , a company that provides overnight delivery. Meanwhile the _Rush my Passport_ _Company_ finds a time slot still available for making a passport at an office somewhere in the USA. When the passport application form from _Rush my Passport_ arrives, Linda signs it, combines it with the other documents and sends them all off for processing.\n\nEverything is with the passport centre by Friday morning. They will process the passport at high speed for 300 dollars but Cool-hand Mike selects the slightly slower _Parcel Service_ option which guarantees delivery by 12 noon the following day and only costs $50. Sure enough right on time on Saturday morning there is a knock on the door and when they get to the door they see the UPS truck driving away and there is an envelope stuffed under their door. The passport has arrived.\n\nWith passport in hand and the roof repaired, Linda and Mike depart by plane for Fiji on Sunday morning as planned and as if nothing has happened. Whew, I wonder if I am confronted with the same problem, whether New Zealand's Department of Internal affairs can respond as quickly. Undoubtedly it will be a question of money, lots of it.\n\n## Planning Ahead for a Christmas on the West Coast\n\nOrganising Christmas 2014 was always going to be a complex operation in which the members of the Philpott family must be drawn together in Whangarei at the north of the North Island of New Zealand. Bruce's sister Julie and Brother-in–law Darrell are coming over from Melbourne, Bruce's Mum and Dad are heading up from Hawera and of course we will be arriving from Palmerston North (the town with one of the longest names in New Zealand), and we will all join Karl, Mel, Elena and Tommy Philpott, our hosts in Whangarei\n\nAt first everything goes smoothly. Julie and Darrell are totally committed, after all meeting in Whangarei was their idea in the first place, so we can be certain they at least will be there. And of course Karl and Mel our hosts aren't going anywhere. Bruce and I love the idea and are already planning an extended trip in Northland after Christmas. Graeme and Kay need no urging and jump at the chance of getting so many of their family together.\n\nKarl is the sort of practised organiser who sweeps aside difficulties and makes everything seem easy. His plan has him, Elena and Tommy sleeping in tents outside, while the rest of us take over family beds. However Julie and Bruce think this is a step too far and quickly reach the conclusion that the inconvenience factor for the family is too high. They decide we will hire a nearby house to use as base. Bruce takes on the job of phoning around to see what's available in McLeod Bay. He soon hits the jackpot and everything is now in place for a festive Christmas Celebration. The plan seems fool proof. What can possibly go wrong?\n\nWell as it turns out everything. It is Kay Philpott who gets the news that the will bring the whole edifice tumbling down. \"Did you know Karl has accepted a job in Russia?\"\n\nWell we didn't and, when we contact them, neither do Julie and Darrell.\n\nNo need to panic. It is now November, and it seems implausible to imagine the family will be in Russia before Christmas. There just isn't time. Wrong again, if you are needed in Russia for a job in Russia, and they need you urgently, you can indeed be in Russia before Christmas.\n\nI never realised before how exotic a place Russia is to me. I've always treated it as an extension of Europe and it is, but a huge extension, one that stretches across what I have always thought of as the Far East, a place I previously linked with China and Japan. My mind is stretched to its imaginative limits. The strangeness of knowing someone who is off to Russia for a job spills over to everyone I tell the news to. Mel and Karl are going not just to the east of Russia but to an Island hanging off the eastern end of Russia that is more part of Japan than Russia. I have no image in my mind of what the Island looks like. In my imagination I can scatter around an oil refinery or two, after all Karl works in the oil industry, no surprises there, and fill in some snow on the hills, and as it is an island there will be some beaches. But there my imagining stops.\n\nOur Christmas plans are shattered. Lovely as the town of Whangarei is, being there at Christmas, when the main reason you are going has been pulled from under your feet, the town now holds little charm for us. Bruce has to phone and tell the lovely lady in McLeod Bay we are not coming, and then we have to decide where we will spend Christmas.\n\nThe answer may seem obvious, surely we will, as usual go to Hawera. But things are seldom simple and even the most obvious conclusion is not the one that pleases everyone. Bruce talks the problem over on the phone with Julie, who, of course, is still in Melbourne. Julie and Darrell's second choice is either Stewart Island at the very South of the South Island or the West Coast of the South Island. Bruce favours the West Coast, the others agree so we will have ten days there starting on the 22nd December. Graeme and Kay will stay in Hawera\n\nIn one fell swoop we have gone from one of the best organised Christmases in the whole country to one of the least well organised. At the busiest holiday period of the year we must find a two bedroomed house to rent in a part of the country which is popular with holiday makers.\n\nThe search for houses at McLeod Bay has burned out Bruce's desire for house hunting, so I volunteer to do the spade work (of course in the end Bruce does help out along the way too). Better organised people will have already had the pick of the market but I do luck out and find one two-bedroom house for the five days we want to spend in Hokitika.\n\nIt is also surprisingly easy to find a house in Karamea, the last town before the beginning of the Heaphy Track Walkway. Everything in Karamea is very laid back, not the least the landlords. There is no nonsense about deposits, just a verbal agreement over the phone and the deal is sealed. Westport proves more problematic but I finally find what sounds like a large building complex rather than the small house or cabin we want, but beggars can't be chooses.\n\nI have finished. Everything is in place, but then things start to fall apart again. I get a call from our landlady in Hokitika, \"I'm terribly sorry, the house is only free for the first three days. I inadvertently double booked you on the last two. But I'll reduce the rent on one of your days to compensate.\" Not much consolation for me but there is nothing I can do about it.\n\nSo my search resumes. I finally find a house called The Dome that is free for the two days we want and when I get a reply from a small house in Westport that had taken its time in replying, I grab that too and at last I've finished. Bruce is grateful that the search is finally over.\n\nThings are moving fast for Mel and Karl who now plan to be in Russia by the start of December. As compensation we do get to see them at the end of our trip to the USA. They are surprisingly calm given how much they still have to do in such a short time. They want to take two cats and their dog to Russia. The logistics are mind blowing but they seem confidence they can make it happen. Their house near Whangerei they rent out to friends in the hope a job will become available in Whangerei at the end of their Russian contract. Karl is no sooner in Russia than the world oil prices tumble with serious effects on the Russian Rouble. Fortunately Karl has arranged to be paid in New Zealand money, not that the NZ dollar can be depended upon to remain rock solid either.\n\nAnd we enjoy our holiday with Darrell and Julie on the Westcoast.\n\n# All about People\n\n## Rachel makes it to Palmerston North at Last\n\nDown through the years Bob Lambourne's mother, Mary, his nephew Jem, and sisters Liz and Ruth and Ruth's partner Jeremy, have visited us in New Zealand, and this summer it is the turn of his youngest sister Rachel, which leaves Anne as the only sibling who has never made the long trek to Palmerston North. Sensibly all have come in the New Zealand summer, avoiding the rigors of the English winter. Like the rest of the family, Rachel is a quick-witted clever person and, although Bob is not given to having favourites, seeing them together I do get the feeling that, whether he admits it or not, he has a particular soft spot for Rachel. With Bob the oldest member of the family and Rachel the youngest, this seems to have created a special bond.\n\nWhen I suggest a picnic up the Pohangina valley to Rachel, as I expected, she signs up immediately. A summer picnic has become a tradition with the rest of us, although this year Len and Pam Blackwell are double-booked and can't come. They have an appointment with the family Pam has adopted since the time when the oldest children were babies, and now one of these girls is getting married.\n\nThis causes a slight problem for Pam because her friends are also holding their wedding in the Pohangina valley, and at the same picnic ground we are going to. Pam naturally does not want anything to interfere with the focus of the bride's wedding. No doubt images spring into her mind of us all bowling up to greet her and Len and inadvertently disrupting the bride's big day. As soon as Pam expresses these fears, I tell her I will warn the others not to approach her and Len when they are at the wedding. It is a big picnic area and the two parties need never meet. Nevertheless when we arrive at the grounds, Len bowls straight up to us and tells us the news, \"The celebrant has not arrived. She must have gone to the wrong place. The wedding can't go ahead until we find her.\"\n\nIt is a lovely summer's day and after the usual splendid meal, we sit in a circle on camp stools or sprawl on the ground, chatting, or in Bob's case dozing. In the end the call of the river is too much. Not only is there no sign of a wedding party there are precious few other people at the grounds. When we head for the river we have it to ourselves.\n\nMost of our group are happy to watch, but Shirley, Bruce and I are determined to swim. The water is beautiful, in every respect, the air temperature is just what you hope for in summer, with the water just fresh enough to cool you down but not so cold it takes your breath away and although it has a clarity that allows us to see every submerged stone, it also has a lovely rich green colour and, yes, to top the day off, the sun beams down from a clear blue sky. It is a day we will remember in the middle of winter when an old man southerly is sweeping up from the Antarctic and the heat pumps are working overtime. We return to Palmerston North well satisfied with our annual visit up the Pohangina.\n\nEvery country has to have a city or town that people make fun of, the place want-to-be-comedians, who are out for a cheap laugh, find irresistible. Can you sense that I rather resent having to be the butt of weak attempts at humour, attempts that lack any originality? I grew up in Taihape which is one of these joke towns. \"See Taihape and die happy,\" people used to say, which is at best a back-handed compliment. The only rival Taihape has in the small town North Island category is Eketahuna which is even smaller than Taihape, and doesn't have the main trunk railway running through its centre. You may wonder what Palmerston North's rival is in the big city category is, well it's Hamilton. Actually these two cities are very similar, both have the railway down the centre and both have a major river running through the centre, in Palmerston North case it's the Manawatu and for Hamilton it's the Waikato. Both rivers have a claim to fame; the Manawatu is the only river that cuts through the main divide while the Waikato is the longest river in New Zealand at 425 km.\n\nA British comedian, John Cleese, you might remember him as a member of Monty Pythons Flying Circus, the tall one, came to our fair city and afterwards in a blog turned quite nasty. He accused us of laughing at all the wrong places in his tired old programme of predictable jokes. I ask you is there ever a right way to respond to someone straining to be funny and not succeeding. He labelled us the most boring city he had ever visited, quite some praise coming from such boring person. Our City Council fought back, promptly naming a city hill Mount Cleese, which since it was built entirely out of rubbish is a back-handed compliment. But I must back off. I am sounding small-minded, thin-skinned, petty, and lacking a sense of humour. Still the rubbish pile has retained the Cleese name.\n\nLong before Cleese's arrival in the town, we became proud of this hill of rubbish, built up on what used to a pretty lagoon before the Pakeha arrived. Bob likes to honour this tradition by taking visitors to see Mount Cleese. Each year he builds up a decent pile of green waste, piles it into a rented trailer and carts it off to the dump. Sorry, I slipped back into old habits to a time when the name dump had not been replaced by the more PC of Recycling Centre. Dump was correct when every unwanted thing, whether toxic or not, was thrown onto the growing pile.\n\nIn this respect, Rachel's visit was no different than any other. I helped load the trailer, and as always, l was rewarded by being allowed to put our green waste on the trailer too. Bob as usual jumped up and down on top of the pile to compact it. This year Rachel during this process managed a very skilful tumbling dismount, one that would have won her high points in competitive gymnastics. Bob shows skills learned from days out sailing in the United Kingdom, to tie the load securely in place, making use of a particularly clever slip knot which allows him to tighten the load while never losing the tension on the rope.\n\nI hope Rachel was impressed with the height of Mount Cleese and the quality of the big machinery that was shoving the green waste aimlessly around, even if she didn't offer any admiring comments. There is quite a nice view from the top; a view the could not have got any other way.\n\nAs the proverbial crow flies it is only about 120 km from Palmerston North to Mount Ruapehu. On a clear day, we get good views of this volcano from the city, in fact on such a day we can also see Mount Taranaki 175 km away out to the northwest. But clear days can be deceptive hard to find as Rachel discovers when I take her and Bob up to Taihape to see Mount Ruapehu.\n\nI admit on the day we drive north there is some slight smudges of cloud around the extreme edges of the sky, but otherwise I insist the day is perfectly clear. Since it is getting to the end of Rachel's visit, I decide it is now or never and we set off on a day that promises much. I think Rachel enjoyed the ride across the rolling green hills of the central North Island up to a high hill aptly named Windy point. From here on this sunny, tranquil day there are great views all around but strangely, annoyingly, Mount Ruapehu is notable by its absent. It seems impossible that the tiny scatter of cloud can hide a 9200 foot mountain but it has. It's as if the mountain has been moved, leaving not a trace for Rachel to admire.\n\nWe push onto Taihape, as I hope I have made clear, one of New Zealand's most famous small towns. Every Easter the citizens hold a gumboot throwing competition, with good prizes. If you're passing through at Easter, give it a go. There is even a statue of a large gumboot made out of corrugated iron on the northern edge of town.\n\nOn the final approach into Taihape on a clear day you get a wonderful view of Mount Ruapehu, sitting on top of the volcanic plateau, a toy mountain covered with icing sugar, but despite the clear blue sky overhead, despite the absence of any cloud, there is not a sign of Ruapehu today. I swallow my disappointment. Perhaps it will appear after lunch.\n\nWhen it comes to food the restaurant of choice in Taihape is easy to name, It's _The Brown Sugar Café,_ which has the tastiest food, the best vegetarian dishes, a place where we can sit outside in in the shade of fruit trees, while taking full advantage of the warmth of the summer's day.\n\nWe make our selections then I quickly call out loudly and clearly to the waitress, \"I'm paying for lunch\" flourishing my wallet to emphasise the point to Bob. Bob, equally determined to pay, makes a full frontal assault on me. Like an Elizabethan courtier he slaps me lightly across the cheeks to indicate that if I want to pay I must fight him to the death for the honour. I good naturedly accept defeat. Yet again I have been out manoeuvred by a Lambourne. In retrospect I don't know why I ever expected to be able to pay, after all his mother was a master of this game. Her favourite trick was to claim she had to go to the toilet and then return with the bill paid.\n\nIn Taihape on such a day we almost invariably get fine views of the mountain, why not today? My confidence is beginning to ebb away. I have to face the possibility that we will not see this shy mountain today. There is not time to drive to the base of the mountain at Wairouru where we will at least get a glimpse of its foot, since Bob and Rachel have a dinner appointment and must be back by six thirty.\n\nBut as a local, Taihape born and bred, I know the best place to see it and that's down the hill on the road into Mataroa. Mataroa is one of the many tiny towns that have been squeezed out of existence by the arrival of cars and better roads. It is ten minutes' drive north of Taihape, so after lunch we head there. But then I discover much can happen in forty years. You can't move a hill and the hill is still there but I am dismayed to discover that in the last thirty years, a local farmer has planted a pine plantation on the hill. Pinus Radiata trees grow very fast and very tall and they have blocked out the view. My frustration is complete.\n\nWe retreat back to Taihape. Yet again I check from the approach road into Taihape and once again we see nothing of the mountain. I call in at my cousins Jack and Lynsie's deer farm to discuss things with them. They can't help me find the missing mountain, but it is nice to visit them.\n\nOn the way back we take Highway 1 and stop in at Hunterville to visit Kathy Kitson, who has been working at Massey University almost as long as me, well longer now. She shifted to Hunterville and now commutes each day to Massey University. Since she arrived, she has mounted her own crusade to revitalise the town and prevent it slipping into zombie territory, the fate of so many small New Zealand towns. We find Kathy dispatching the mail, yes she has taken over the Post Office mail contract now and when the mailman is on holiday she delivers the mail herself before driving the hour into Palmerston North for a day's work. She has also bought a large general store, no not one selling groceries, one with clothes and bits and pieces, and also a coffee shop in the main street and perhaps other things I don't know about. If the town fades into obscurity it will not be because of her efforts to single handedly kick some live into the place. But I don't think Rachel is impressed. With the town and its deserted streets spread out in the late afternoon sun, she comments dryly, \"Hunterville is not so much sleepy as comatose.\"\n\nIn the main street there are statues of sheep, very realistic statues of sheep produced by a local artist. Kathy tells us what happened when a randy ram escaped into the main street. Deceived by the skill of the artist, the ram proceeds to mount one of these oh so realistic ewes. I notice that the artist has also sculptured some sheep poo to add to the effect.\n\nDuring her last week, a week of only intermittent sun, Rachel is determined to deepen her sun tan before she flies home and she spends much time perched on a chair in the garden. We have enjoyed her visit and hope she will be back again next year, when I am sure she will see the reluctant Mount Ruapehu, and perhaps even see some of the other volcanoes.\n\nBut I didn't make her any rash promises. I have learned my lesson about promising too much.\n\n## Bruce Shows How a Fiftieth Birthday Should be Celebrated\n\nWhen it's time to celebrate one of your big birthdays, the sort with a zero at the end, the ones that roll around every ten years, it's time to do something a bit different. On these birthdays you are leaving one decade behind and starting into a new one. It seems impossible but suddenly you are in your forties, fifties, sixties or even in some cases your seventies. Apart from becoming a hermit, which is not for everyone, or lying about your age which is what sister Kay does, or leaving the country and not returning until the doomsday celebration is well behind you, then you just have to grit your teeth and plunge into the celebration with as much good grace as you can muster.\n\nMy brother Gordon took a wicked delight when his younger brother crossed one of these divides and when that happened his birthday cards triumphantly pointed out how ancient I had become. He is only two years older than me, but that didn't stop him.\n\nI stayed quiet as my 40th birthday approached and made no plans for something special on the big day. I knew this dreadful birthday had to be celebrated after all I live in a house with my cousin DJT, while my brother and sister live close by and as it turns out my Auntie Elsie was down from Taihape on the big day too. In hindsight I should have realised that this wasn't by chance but at the time I thought I would get through this birthday without any fuss, after all no one seemed to have noticed anything, although I now realise this is one of the most certain signs that you have been discovered, namely no one mentions the birthday.\n\nHaving missed all the signs, I was struck by that disconcerting thing called a surprise birthday party. Lying in bed on the morning of my 40th birthday I heard the phone ringing. A number of other people were up and about, so I waited expecting someone else to take the call but no one did. Muttering to myself, I got up and walked to the phone in the kitchen. There I noticed that the dining room table was set and wondered whether we had forgotten to clear the dinner things away the previous night. There was a pause and then a voice piped up saying happy birthday. I started to thank that person, but a microsecond later people sprang out of nowhere and began singing happy birthday. I know I am supposed to say what a wonderful surprise this was, and it was, but I couldn't help feeling deceived, as I said on several occasions during the meal, now I don't know who I can trust? It was a nice breakfast and I did enjoy seeing everyone but I can't recommend a surprise birthday if you want to strengthen long term relations, you may be mistaken.\n\nNaturally I was better organised for my fiftieth birthday, well I wasn't really but in retrospect it sounded like I had made a well-planned escape. On my fiftieth birthday I was on study leave at the University of California in Riverside and well out of range of NZ friends and family. But even back in 1990 there were fax machines and my colleague and good friend Dr Mike Dunn was alerted by New Zealand friends, who faxed him and he quickly organised a birthday lunch. This is when I learned that when the big birthdays come round there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. My sixtieth and seventieth birthday I took on the chin and there were some wonderful surprises, in particular a birthday book for my 70th birthday beautifully bound and full of photographs. These were assembled by Bruce and Rose Motion who requested contributions and they got them beyond my greatest expectations.\n\nBut I digress. This is about Bruce's fiftieth birthday, not about my past birthdays. In our group of friends I think it was Walt Abell from Christchurch who first spelled out the format that Bruce decided to follow; namely a birthday celebration that goes on the road. Yes, instead of having a big party which everyone comes to, you go to the places where your friends are and have many birthdays along the way, as many as you want, as many as you have friends. Bruce like me finds the big birthday with masses of people present causes frustration. Here you are in room with all your favourite friends and relations who you want to talk to, to chat with, to reminisce with, but instead you must flit from group to group spending a necessarily small time with each.\n\nSo Bruce choose to launch the Bruce Philpott Travelling Birthday Show, one that will traverse New Zealand and go overseas, one that will span not days but months, even spreading across two years, Bruce doesn't think small.\n\nAlthough his fiftieth birthday is in 2015, it is in November 2014 that his celebrations begin. That is when we called in to visit Anand and Mathangi in Palo Alto, a visit of four days but much was cramped into the available space. We visit a redwood forest just south of Palo Alto where we battle roads blocked by fallen trees, then we drive up the coast north of San Francisco and enjoy a golden sunset much as we often did together back at Himitangi beach, we walk to a wet land lapped by the tides of San Francisco Harbour and bounded by a busy airport for small planes and visit a Gallery in San Francisco on a brilliantly sunny day, cooled by the first frosty fingers of an approaching winter, and somewhere in between we celebrated Bruce's 50th birthday with burittos.\n\nBruce has to wait until Christmas for the his next big birthday bash, well it was actually quite quiet, just four of us, Bruce and I with his sister Julie and Brother-in-law Darrell, this time at an Indian Restaurant in Hokotika on the west coast of the South Island. This was the only restaurant open, but the food was excellent. It was Darrell who insisted on paying the bill at the place called _The Priya_. Barely a week later we are catching up with our old friends Colin, Val and Walt, again eating Indian food but this time in Christchurch.\n\nBruce is well launched on his big birthday bash.\n\nWhen we make our biennial visit to the Womad Festival in March, we take the opportunity to declare a 50th birthday weekend for Bruce as he gathers his Hawera family around him. His Mum and Dad host the affair at their place. It is not difficult for Neil Philpott and his partner Serin to come along with their daughter Marnie, Neil's son Wolfgang and daughter Harmony also join in, and Harmony's daughter Willow comes too. They all live in Hawera. His uncle Lesley and Aunt Chris come down from New Plymouth on what turns out to be Lesley's real birthday, making a double celebration possible but there is no chance that his brother Karl and sister-in-law Mel can make the trip from eastern Russia. It was pleasure to see how much Lesley enjoys his surprise birthday celebration, but Bruce has just as much fun.\n\nIt is Easter when we resume Bruce's progressive birthday this time we head to Auckland to visit Helen and Stephen Charters and Steve Black and Jan Young, who like so many of our Auckland friends seldom come south, but we always enjoy visiting them. But more of this birthday celebration later.\n\nOn Bruce's real birthday, April 15 in case you have forgotten, we are at the Botaira Beach Resort in Fiji with Mike and Linda Dunn, two wonderful people from Los Angeles. When Bruce blows his cover, the kitchen staff produce a handsome birthday cake which Bruce shares with the staff, who enjoy it even more than us if that is possible. Who can forget a birthday spent on such a lovely island, where we are drenched in the hot tropical sun, and spending every day snorkelling?\n\nThat leaves Bruce's Palmerston North birthday. There is no need now to invite people from far away. We have a tradition of birthday celebrations. We are well practised in producing birthday cakes with lighted candles, and with the lusty singing of Happy Birthday followed by the cutting of the cake with lots of photos to make it easy to remember.\n\nPeople are always reporting the results of studies on strange non-academic sounding topics but who wants to do anything but welcome a recently published paper which asserts that taking advantage of every chance you have to celebrate significant days is the way to improve your health and extend your life.\n\n## Gordon Buckley: 1938 – 2015\n\nDid you know that my brother Gordon like Queen Elizabeth 2nd had a real birthday and an official birthday? He was born on 28-7-38, but our Dad registered him in August and wrote down 28-8-1938 by mistake. When Gordon found out it was too late to change it. Because of this, he had to do compulsory army training (his date of birth, the official one, was drawn from a random ballot) and of course he got the pension a month late. The Wellington Hospital staff were very concerned when we celebrated his birthday on a different day and month from the one on the Hospital Records so they updated it.\n\nIn High School Gordon won his 100 yards race (yes it was yards back then) with a withering burst of speed which left the opposition gasping in his wake. The strong beat of his legs and the chopping action of his arms made him look like champion New Zealand runner Peter Snell of the 1960s. Local coaches in Marton rushed to convince him to take up athletics. Fat chance they had of succeeding _._ The life of a runner held no charms for him. He preferred the gentler sports of golf and bowls, sports that left much time to socialise with his opponents. All his wife Janet's efforts to get him regularly walking failed. The nearest he got to vigorous activity was a gentle spin on his exercise bike in the privacy of his own home but he soon lost interest even in that. No, it was the armchair that was Gordon's natural habitat, the place where he really flourished, especially when sharing a beer with a receptive audience who were listening attentively to his anecdotes\n\nThat is not to say he wasn't a health fanatic. After some years as a smoker, in his late twenties he suddenly packed up all his smoking equipment and gave up this supposedly addictive pastime and never smoked again.\n\nChoosing a career was difficult for Gordon **.** He couldn't decide between being an electrician or a mechanic. Finally mum decided for him, he would be an electrician. Later he sometimes wondered whether a mechanic's life might have suited him better.\n\nGiven the choice Gordon always preferred to drive. As soon as he began work as an apprentice electrician, he bought a small car. I remember how on frosty mornings he had a tough job cranking it into life (I was listening from a warm bed). While he was working at the Waipapa Hydroelectric Power Station he bought an Austin 10 and each day and drove down the hill to work and every evening back up again. All the other staff walked. This is Gordon the rugged individualist who did not bow down to convention, even in such a tiny community _._\n\nAt Waipapa, to get a reasonable TV signal a very tall aerial was required. When one day the aerial had to be brought down for maintenance, Gordon's Austin 10 was pressed into service. They tied the car to the aerial to ensure they did not lose control and allow it to crash to the ground. No one can say his little car didn't do its best, the brakes remained tightly on, but no one took into account the heavy dew. The car slid helplessly across the slippery surface and the aerial crashed to the ground.\n\nThrough his life Gordon drove many cars and survived a few crashes (at least three to my knowledge). Late in life he rode his mobility scooter along the road to his neighbours, and don't forget his rides on the motor mower, at least until Janet's son, Tom Armstrong, took over.\n\nGordon was generous with his time and always ready to go out of his way to help people. Robyn, his first wife, might have said too generous. One day the boss of the power station called Gordon into his office. The boss got straight down to business, \"Did you know you haven't had a day's leave for more than six months. What's going on? If my boss finds out about this I'll be rapped over the knuckles. It's not legal for staff to go so long without leave.\" Gordon's explanation to me ran along the lines. \"In an out-of-the-way power station like Waipapa many older operators went there to work out their final years before retirement. By this time in their careers, they were thoroughly over the idea of doing night shifts so they would try to swap their night shifts with a younger worker like me. In my case the practise just got out of hand.\" Extra night shifts could be worked using the four days leave after every night shift cycle and he also took advantage of the fact there were three shifts in every 24 hour period. It must have been difficult for Robyn to find a time that Gordon was available to get into town so she could do her shopping.\n\nGordon Buckley was the same as his father Bert who liked being in his own territory and resisted all attempts to prize him away. One notable exception was Gordon's trip to join me in Los Angeles in 1982. In the last week before he left Shannon to come to LA, I phoned him every night to bolster his confidence and convince him to come on the trip. He confessed to me later that when I left him alone in my LA apartment for the first time, he became afraid that if I disappeared he would never find his way back to LAX to fly home. I immediately gave him a phone number of a friend to call it if I did disappear and he relaxed.\n\nThe first thing he did on arrival was to cross the road to a small Convenience Store and buy one can of every type of beer in the shop. Then over a few days, he drank his way through them all to find out which one he preferred in this strange new land. Isn't that just like Gordon, to work systematically to find a solution, usually a really creative one.\n\nSome things in LA he found hard to understand. The suburb we were in had lovely green lawns in a place where the rain never fell. In the Horowhenua six weeks without rain would cause a serious drought. The answer, as he discovered, was that water was brought south from San Francisco in aqueducts to keep the sprinklers going. A related question he asked me was why do the roofs not have gutters. The answer, of course, was they didn't need them. He was also surprised that we thought nothing of driving for half an hour on the freeway just to get an ice cream, as you do in LA. Only many years later did I learn that on his return to New Zealand Gordon spoke about his trip to the USA at many Lions clubs meetings. (I wonder what he told them?)\n\nBut I do him a disservice; he did travel overseas with Janet on two other occasions, once to England and once to Australia. The strange thing is that although he was very hard to shift from Shannon, once he got overseas, he enjoyed every minute, and was the life and soul of the party. It wasn't the travelling he disliked; it was the anticipation of an upcoming trip he didn't liked.\n\nWhen the heavy hand of dogmatism inherent in the new right philosophy reached down into The Mangahau Power Station, and the big bosses decided that the station would become computer controlled with no staff permanently on the station, Gordon wanted out. Throughout his working life Gordon had two strings to his bow, one as an operator at a power station and the other as a free-lance-electrician on the open market. So he reverted to being his own boss. Of course he never charged full market rates but he enjoyed the work and he pulled in the clients.\n\nIn retirement he took on the challenge of computing. For several years I visited him once a week to help him with the computer. His great handicap was his complete lack of familiarity with the keyboard. Writing his emails was slow and painful. Gordon solved the problem by hand writing the message, scanning it in and attaching a copy to his email. Brilliant.\n\nGordon enjoyed good health through most of his life. His first serious health problem was wear and tear on his hips. He boxed on putting up with the pain until he couldn't even chop wood and really just getting to the letter box was too much. I wrote a letter to his doctor spelling out his problems and he finally got the attention he needed. Within a few weeks he had his first hip replaced. But he was still having a lot of pain; pain which the hospital doctors attributed to digestive problems, but not his local doctor. Fortunately Gordon was in hospital having these problems looked into when he had a cardiac arrest and had to be revived. Then he finally got the attention of the doctors. Within three days he was in Wellington Hospital having a quintuple coronary artery bypass operation. He took a while to recover from this big operation but soon he was in again being examined for a second hip replacement. The anaesthetist looked over Gordon's pile of notes and said incredulously, \"You mean they were treating you for a stomach problem and it was really your heart?\" When Gordon confirmed this, the anaesthetist shook his head disbelievingly, pushed away the notes and declared him fit enough to get the second hip done.\n\nThe Health Service treated him both very badly and very well. Their failure to recognise and act on his rapidly advancing cancer may not have cause his final death but their inability to recognise the cancer did put him through a painful personal hell for far, far too long.\n\nThrough his life he loved to make people laugh and to laugh himself. It is his sense of humour I loved and will miss most. He always liked telling stories, which I think was part of his Irish past. Certainly when we were travelling in Ireland we met \"Gordon Buckley's\" everywhere we went. He always thought of other people first and was generous in supporting them.\n\nAs a patient he was the complete health pessimist always believing the worse and like all pessimists in the end he turned out to be right. After receiving the news that the cancer was terminal, he told me it didn't feel real and I told him that's just how I felt too.\n\nHe went into the Hospice late on Friday afternoon and was dead early on Monday morning. He got his wish that his final illness was not prolonged.\n\n# Travelling About in 2015\n\n## Off to Fiji Again, This time it's the Botaira Beach Resort on the Dry Island\n\nMike and Linda Dunn are once again heading for Fiji and they've invited us along. We jump at the chance. Their plans are simple enough, they will spend one week at the Botaira Beach Resort and a second at the Manta Ray Resort where they will see these magnificent eagle rays which can reach 7 m in length. They suggest we come to see the Manta Rays, \"There are more people around there,\" is Mike's comment. Typically timid, I am uncertain how I will feel in the presence of these wonderful creatures, even supposing I can swim into the current powerfully enough to watch the full parade of Manta Rays. We tried to see Manta Rays in Indonesia at a place with a tide strong enough to sweep away any boats not securely anchored in the coral, but we saw no Manta Rays.\n\nAs soon as Bruce and I sign up for the Manta Rays, there is a twist. Diane Dunn, Mike and Linda's daughter, hopes to get leave from her job in Seattle to join us, but this can only be during the first week. Diane is a joy to travel with, full of fun and ideas. As soon as Dianne's plans are certain, we withdraw from the Manta ray Resort, after a little haggling about whether we will lose any of the money we have paid out, we swap to Botaira Resort on what Mike describes as the dry island, one that has virtually no water, \"You must buy water to bring with you,\" Mike tells us.\"\n\nSo our plans are complete, everything is settled; but it isn't. Mike sends the message, \"Dianne has broken her foot and is flying back to Seattle for treatment.\" Both Mike and Dianne are positive she will in the end be able to come, provided that is, her boss gives her the time off. You've probably guessed but, at the very last moment Diane's doctor tells her not to travel, her bones aren't sufficiently mended.\n\nAll the planes from New Zealand arrive after the one boat that goes every day to the Yasawa Islands has left and visa a versa with the boat returning to Nadi each day arriving after the last plane has left. So we must spend a night in Nadi both going and coming. Everything at the Fiji end is organised for us, pickups to and from the boat and from and to the airport. What they can't organise even on an island in the vast blue Pacific Ocean, is some way to escape the evening traffic jam. There is stop-start traffic from the airport to the edge of town, before we escaped into Nadi. We arrive at our hotel as the sun sets in a blaze of gold, and all is forgiven. We even have time to walk down the beach taking photos before returning in total darkness\n\nAs to buying water, it turns out there is a dairy at the wharf we leave from to go to Botaira where we buy fifteen 1.5 L bottles water in a carton, and carry them on the boat with us. This water, plus the one bottle the resort provides free each day carries us through the week. We find out later that water sold at the resort is about thirty percent more expensive than in Nadi.\n\n### Communicating with the World\n\nWhen we ask the staff for cell phone coverage, we are given very specific instructions about where we should stand to make contact with Vodafone, but the results they give are decidedly shaky and give inconsistent coverage. One person tells us to stand over by the corner of the administration Bure but when we don't find anything there, we take the advice of another person but still no coverage. In the end we cast about for ourselves and eventually make contact but not for long.\n\nWe give up and wave away our attempt to act as if we are back in civilisation. But the next day, as if by magic, coverage returns with energy and consistency. This is so strange and so unexpected that I ask the staff what has happened, and find that Vodafone has erected a new tower on the island. This was the right time to come.\n\n### On Being a Little Over Exposed\n\nThe beach at the Botaira Beach Resort is unsurprisingly thick with golden sand, well if not exactly golden, then more golden than white. At high tide I can snorkel straight off the beach but at low tide, and when I say low, I mean very low, the sand is replaced by a broad expanse of coral and the only way to get into the water without destroying coral, is to walk along a slippery concrete path into deep water. I preferred to swim at high tide but there is a complication. The sand sticks like glue to everything and since for me exiting involves a lot of rolling around as I attempt to regain my feet amongst the breaking waves, with the result that when I finally stand up, I am plastered with this stubbornly sticky sand.\n\nBeside the door of our Bure is a tray of fresh water for us to rinse our feet in before entering the room. On the first day I discovered this tray is by no means adequate. The sand is plastered not just on my feet but all over my body, and inside my togs and polyprop top. Put plainly I am loaded with sand, sand that takes a great effort to wash off. Rubbing my body is like trying to shift sand paper but eventually I succeeded.\n\nNaturally the next day I don't want a repeat of the problem. Somehow, I must get rid of the sand at the beach before I return to the Bure. This time we are swimming further up the beach, near a ring of stones designed to trap fish at low tide. So I won't lose them, I give my glasses to Bruce to put in his bag while we swim. As usual I set off from the beach bravely enough but quite quickly salt water enters my mask. I stop and drain the water and try snorkelling again but with the same result.\n\nEventually I abort my attempt to snorkel with my leaking mask. Sitting in the breaking surf I pull my fins off and am surprised to see Bruce's quick-drying towel shoot past me as a wave retreats. I rescue it. Then I notice that the breaking waves go right up to and beyond the place where our clothes used to be and with a sickening feeling I realise Bruce's bag is nowhere to be seen. Afraid it has been swept into to sea, I begin a desperate search. When Bruce lost his glasses in big surf on a Coromandel Beach many years ago, we never found them and he had to phone Bob and ask him to send Bruce his spare pair. This is the moment that Bruce comes ashore and is double dismayed when he finds out what has happened.\n\nQuite unnecessarily he says, \"You have bought your spare pair of glasses, haven't you?\" Well of course I haven't, I never do. Before recriminations can flow further Bruce spots his beach bag. It has been snagged by the old canoe at the edge of the surf and I am engulfed by a feeling of relief, a feeling that doesn't extend far enough to make me promise myself next time I will bring a spare pair. I won't.\n\nWhen Mike and Linda come ashore we tell them how nearly we lost our gear by falling into the trap of thinking that we were at the limit of the waves ambitions for the day. Mike and Linda go ahead to their Bule, but I am determined not to return caked in sand. I realise there is no way I am going to wash all the sand off while I am wearing togs and a polyprop top. My eyes light on to Bruce's towel, already thoroughly soaked by its earlier dunking, it will be none the worse being in the water a second time.\n\nSo without thinking further about the problems I may be creating for myself, I strip off all my clothes, wrap myself securely in Bruce's towel and enter the water. I should point out that Bruce's towel floats easily. He made it himself from two shorter travel towels his mother gave him for Christmas.\n\nIn the breaking surf, the sand soon drops away from my body but find I am having great difficulty remaining decent as waves keep floating the light-weight towel away from my body. I try to wrap it securely but the sea soon claims it back. I have a secure hold on the towel but it is determined not to remain around my body. So there I am tumbling about in the breaking waves, while desperately trying to position the towel to protect my decency. As I spin about in the surf my bare bum and genitals keep being exposed to the rest of the beach. As quickly as I partially rectify the situation, the towel is wrenched away from me again. Fortunately it is late in the afternoon, and since the tide is very high other people have been driven off the beach.\n\nBruce for his part is roaring with uncontrollable laughter and for the moment is helpless to be of any constructive use to me. I don't know how long my lonely struggles continued until in the end I gave up any thought of decency and stood up naked and with Bruce's help quickly wrapped the towel securely around my waist.\n\nBruce did not report until afterwards that another couple had come out on the beach but I never saw them. I was too absorbed in my troubles care. It is another couple of days before I pluck up the courage to share my adventure with Mike and Linda.\n\nI have to say the naked rinse in water did get rid of all the sand sticking to my body, so I can recommend the method, provided you are not easily embarrassed.\n\n### Jimmy the Cat\n\nIn Fiji, cats are not very popular as pets so you seldom see them, but there is one at the Botaira Beach Resort. Clearly he has to live by his wits, as there is not much free food coming his way. However while there are tourist around to beg food off, Jimmy has survived. One of the staff tells us that his owner tried to drown him in the sea, but Jimmy swam ashore and has been pan handling ever since. He bears a large scar down one side of his body, the relic of a recent fight with a dog or a shark but it is now healing well.\n\nLinda takes a shine to him and after every meal she squirrels away food to give to him when she returns to her Bule. Naturally he takes a fancy to Linda. With my diet of vegetarian food I am not of much use to Jimmy, although he does have an affection for our Bule, sleeping on the veranda and trying to come in at every opportunity. One of the previous owners of the bure must have been particularly generous and Jimmy has not forgotten.\n\nThere is not an ounce of extra weight on him. He has the svelte body that would be envied by all of his overweight, over-fed cousins in New Zealand. I hope he survives, even when Linda after is long gone.\n\n### I Knocked the Bastard Off (Eventually)\n\nThis island is no dot in the Pacific Ocean, well it is, but it is quite a big dot in a massively larger ocean. And it has some high hills, only one of which has a track to the top.\n\nAs I have mentioned, from the very first day's snorkelling I had trouble with my mask. The straps keep loosening and allowing water in and sending me back to the shore to try to stem the flow. Each time I succeed, but only for a short time, then I have to blow water out of the mask again. No matter how tightly I pull the strap, it always loosens again. For me it is not just a simple matter of hiring a mask from the resort shop because my mask has correcting lenses fitted to compensate for my -7 and -8 short sightedness. When I have no correction in my lens, I get only a very blurry view of passing fish, if I see them at all.\n\nOne afternoon, to fill in the time after the leaking mask puts me off snorkelling yet again, I make a solo assault on the second highest peak on the island. My plan is simple enough. Keep climbing over successively higher humps until I reach the highest point and there is nothing left to climb.\n\nIt is late in the afternoon, but coming down should not be any more difficult than going up. Unfortunately I make the mistake on the way up of focussing exclusively on the way ahead and never looking back. Speaking with the benefit of hindsight, I recommend that as you climb you look behind occasionally, getting a view of the way you will have to return.\n\nOne effect of my narrow view of the hill is that it is a surprise when I finally reach the summit after only about 40 minutes. The top it turns out is really a narrow strip of land with slightly different views as you wonder along this ridge. I get wonderful views of the other islands in the chain of islands that we passed along in the boat on the first day. The light is beginning to yellow as dusk closes in but I pause and get some nice photos.\n\nIn the tropics the sun sets with what for us is unusual abruptness. But I know what I am doing. I walk back along the top ridge until the land drops sharply away, at which point I start my descent.\n\nI make good time at first but when I am faced by a heavily forested section I begin to lose confidence, my memory of climbing up is of open grass land. I stop undecided. If I keep descending, I must get near to the ocean eventually so it should be OK but the question is which part of the ocean. It is an island so where ever I go down I will end up in the ocean, but if I get it wrong I could be many kilometres away from our village. I don't fancy a night in the forest so I must get it right. After wandering around for a while, I realise the only way I can be sure I am on the right track is to return to the peak, so I begin climbing again.\n\nBack on top, I look around carefully and eventually far below I see a bay with a tourist ship at anchor. This I definitely remember and realise I have been going down a quite different ridge to the one I came up on. As I descend this time I pay close attention to the ridge and make no more mistakes, using the tourist boat as a sign post.\n\nBut my searching is not over.\n\nAs I close in on what must be the saddle which I climbed up to from the resort, I again have a choice. The track I am on takes me into a field of what looks like patches of asphalt something I don't recognise. So I climb back up to a grassed section of the hill and explore my way around it looking for the track I am sure must be around here somewhere. But I find nothing. I repeat the check twice more and still there is nothing except the track in the asphalt. The light is definitely fading now. So I accept the inevitable.\n\nI don't remember it, but I grit my teeth and press on. First we wander through a patch of trees that I don't recognise but I still force myself to push on and then at last I break out into the open and everything looks familiar again. Before long I reach the track down to the resort. The light is getting dimmer by the minute. I hope Bruce is not worrying, or even on his way up to find me.\n\nOf course he has been up looking but he did not know whether I took the track to the peak or the track crossed the island and is reduced to asking anyone he found on the track if they had seen me. He is relieved when we finally meet again.\n\nA couple of days later, still frustrated by the leaking mask, I climb to the top k again. This time I disturb clouds of butterflies of many colours as I walk through the long grass but I do not take photos although now, back in Palmerston North, I wish I had. This time I have no trouble staying on the track but in the middle of a tropical day the heat is oppressive and I have to attack my water bottle hard when I get back\n\n### Ghost Crabs\n\nDid you know there are creatures known as ghost crabs in Fiji?\n\nOf course you don't see them at first or at least I didn't. We tourists are on holiday to enjoy ourselves and usually too busy doing things or reading books or just lying in the sun with our eyes shut, to notice something as secretive as ghost crabs. That's not to say I didn't spend time looking into the pools of water left behind at low tide, I did but no one told me to watch for ghost crabs and I didn't.\n\nOn the fourth day, I do see something strange. Something, that seemed to dash across the sand at high speed and then disappear. I don't mean disappear under a shell, there were no shells, neither were they hiding beneath bits of drift wood, there weren't any, they simply disappeared, evaporated if you like. Whatever it was, I continue to disregarded it, perhaps I was seeing things, and besides there were lots of other more interesting things to hold my attention.\n\nBut then I saw one of these transparent bits make a desperate dash and as usual disappear and then a short time later just as I was beginning dismiss it from my mind, it made the mistake of making a second dash. Then I knew this was real, not a trick of my mind. So I waited and kept a close eye on this bit of sand, and then the non-existent creature made a third dash. I studied the patch of sand where it had practised its magic and then I saw it, no, not the creature itself just its faint shadow on the sand. I have never seen something before that is defined by its insubstantial shadow. If I look away for a moment, I found it hard to locate its position again.\n\nMy reaction is the same as any tourist anywhere in the world when I see something interesting, I try to take a photo. This was not a trivial exercise, first to locate this almost invisible shadow and then to zoom in close and capture it on on camera. It had an annoying habit of making a mad dash off to some other random position just as I was trying to focus, and then I must start my search again. My first attempts were distressingly abortive but eventually I got the shadow recorded in the pixels of my digital camera. On closer inspection I resolved it into the this almost transparent small crab.\n\nI took one of my better photos down to dinner that night and everyone had some difficulty in locating this evasive crab in my photo. Bruce was onto it first but the others followed, except Mike, he pleased me by not being able to see it, although this was probably a deception he used to entertain me. Bruce went out the next day, without telling me, and managed to get even better photos of the ghost crabs.\n\nSo next time you are on the beach in the Fijian Islands see if you can locate these mysterious ghost crabs.\n\n### A Successful Snorkel at Last\n\nMike and Bruce have not being letting the grass grow under their feet (or should I say not letting their feet get tangled in seaweed) when it comes to my mask. Mike appears with four different types of tape he thinks might be of use in taping my mask together and Bruce experiments with the tapes to find a solution. On our first attempt the chosen tape starts to lift off as soon as I pull the mask on. Determined not to give up, Bruce then applies a second type of tape on top of the first and wraps that tightly around the straps. This one holds. The next day, our last full day on the island, late in the afternoon at full tide, I gingerly entered the water. With my head under water I swim a small circle and for a moment I think water is entering the mask again, but when I clear this water out, no more comes in.\n\nI swim out and enjoy the sight of the colourful fish; the fish Mike and Bruce have been taking great photos of all week. Only when I am getting cold do I finally start looking along the shore for our Bule. I find to my surprise that the sun is sinking into the horizon and a golden tropical sunset is lighting up the sky.\n\nI am delighted to have everything working again even this late in the week. I wasn't able to thanked Mike and Bruce enough.\n\n### Crossing the Island\n\nThe village where the people, who work at our Resort live, is on the opposite side of the Island from us. With my mask causing problems, I had time to walk across the island earlier in the week, but on our last morning, Mike and Linda want to do the crossing too. Mike is still having trouble with a pinched nerve and doesn't want to worsen the problem further, nevertheless on this our last day he is determined to do the crossing. Our talk of the steepness and roughness of the main track discourages him but then I remember a side track Bruce and I have noticed but never taken. This track is the one used by the staff and and I presume is less demanding. I immediately check with the boss and sure enough there is such a trail. It starts at the electric generator on our side of the island and winds gently up the hill. Encouraged we set off together on what is for all of us a new track.\n\nIt is everything we hoped for, only when we re-join the main track do we reach a point where two large boulders partly block our way and demand a bit of scrambling but no one wants to turn back now. The rest of the track down to the beach presents no problems. Mike and Linda have brought their snorkelling gear, but they will have no time to use it today.\n\nAs we pause together at the beach, locals from the village wander by in small groups, most are out to do a bit of fishing. As always in Fiji, people whom you meet while out walking always stop and chat. After all here is no need to hurry, the fish aren't going anywhere.\n\nLinda decides to stay in the shade by the beach and enjoy exchanging pleasantries with the passing locals. The rest of us continue along the beach toward the village but since it is getting late in the morning and our boat leaves after lunch we do not spend much time chatting. As Bruce, Mike and I round a point we can see the edge of the village but it is clear that there is not enough time to walk all the way.\n\nWatching the people wandering down the beach with gear for fishing, I realise that, give or take a few modern inventions, we are seeing life as it has been for hundreds of years on the island. The slow pace is the same, as is the subsistent farming and the fishing that provides so much of the diet.\n\nIt has been the perfect way to spend our last day on the Island.\n\n### The Pick Up\n\nThe boat doesn't return to pick us up until around 2 pm, so why, Bruce asks himself, not do a bit more snorkelling? The answer he decides is most definitely in the affirmative. He wants to take one last visit to the shoal of Squid that have been lurking under the swimming platform for several days. By now they are used to Mike, Linda and Bruce hanging around and taking prying photos of these basically shy creatures of the sea.\n\nMike has also been good naturedly seeking for ways to excite the squids into changing colour. This is of course one of a Squids well known party tricks, a trick which is used to frighten or confuse predators and hopefully save the squid's life. Mike keeps searching for objects with bright colours that may do the trick. In the end he pins his hopes on a colourful T-shirt he will wear under his snorkelling suit and which he will suddenly expose to the squid and see what happens. Actually Bruce has several brightly coloured T shirts, but its Mike's experiment and he'll decide on the colour. I wait expectantly but on his return Mike pronounces the experiment a failure. Obviously the squid were not impressed. In an earlier visit to the raft, Bruce got some impressive videos of these squid with lights flickering down the lengths of their bodies. In fact one of his videos even showed squid copulating, in the process Bruce produced our first X-rated snorkelling video.\n\nWith about an hour to spare, Bruce is back in the water circling around the platform beneath which all the action has been taking place. I return to our Bule to put the final touches to my packing and bring my bag out ready for the boat. I can see Bruce's snorkel intermittently breaking the surface but there is little indication he is coming ashore. But then even his snorkel disappears. No matter how hard I look I can't see it. One of the staff calls out to tell me the big boat is close, and I see it heading our way fast. I look more agitatedly toward the raft and at last I see him walking in along the concrete path. He has no time to change and simply pulls some clothes over his wet snorkelling gear. The staff gather around and sing us a farewell song and I remember with pleasure their singing during the Sunday night meal.\n\nWhen we get in the small boat, I find we are sharing it with people from the village. Two small boys stare across the boat toward me their faces full of fear, and it's not because of me. This must be the first motor boat they have been in, and it is all proving too much. I smile my most encouraging smiles and they risk small grins before being overtaken by fear once again. But I keep smiling. However when we pull up beside the big boat and our little sea shell of a craft scrapes its way along the side, their terror redoubles and no amount of smiling reverses the situation. Never mind them the big boat is intimidating me. It is as if the Queen Elizabeth has come to get us, and the Captain has lost sight of our little boat so we are in danger of being run over. As I pull myself across the gap and into the boat I lose sight of the boys. By the time these boys return to the island they will be experienced sailors but they will never forget their first encounter with the big boats so different from the tiny village canoe.\n\nAs it was in the boat on the way out, most of our fellow passengers are nubile young men and women, tanned brown by the warm tropical sun and enjoying the sensuality of living in little clothing, (here I am self-consciously treating nubile as a word that applies equally to women and men. The pedants amongst you can substitute the word marriageable in the case of men if you must.)\n\n## Up to Auckland for One of Bruce's Fiftieth Birthday Celebrations\n\nIn 2015 Easter is on the first weekend in April. Even by my count of the seasons this is autumn. We are going to Auckland. I will drive the approximately 550 kilometres from Palmerston North to Auckland on Thursday in time to pick up Bruce when he flies up in the evening.\n\nOn a perfect Autumn Day I leave at eight-thirty am, enjoying views of the beautiful Ruahine Ranges on my right. I stop to take a picture, only to be told by the ever watchful Prius that the power in my key battery is running low. The main car batteries are recharged while we drive but there is no such option available for the battery in the key.\n\nI am not carrying a spare battery so the question is where can I buy another one. To find out I stop in Taihape at Lynsie and Jack's deer farm to discuss the problem with Jack. Before he began deer farming Jack was a mechanic and a collector of vintage motor bikes. He immediately whips the battery out of the key. \"There's a lot of dust inside the key\" he says where upon he proceeds to clean it out. He has more information, \"The next Toyota garage is in Taupo.\" After Jack's cleaning, the battery warning message disappears but I decide I don't want to spend the long weekend waiting nervously to see if the battery gives out. Beautiful as the drive across the Desert Road under the shadow of the three volcanoes is, I don't stop until I reach Taupo. The Toyota people relieve me of twelve dollars and fit another key battery. I drive on, my confidence in the Prius fully restored.\n\nAlthough it is lunch time I don't feel hungry, so I push on. I reach Tokoroa and still not hungry I drive on. But by the time I reach Putaruru I am ready to eat, and I can wait no longer. I have my lunch with me in the car so I drive around town looking for a peaceful place to stop. An open stretch of grassy verge away from the houses and off the main road looks perfect. My sandwiches taste wonderful and I thoroughly enjoyed each one. I then lie down beside a big tree to rest before continuing the journey, the last thing I want to do is drive while I'm sleepy. I lie with my eyes shut enjoying the tranquil quietness of the suburb until the sounds of a big truck approaching intrudes into the silence. Why hasn't the truck stayed on Highway 1 I ask myself? The sound increases as the truck approaches and keeps increasing forcing me to realise it is an even bigger truck than I first thought. But when the sound continues to increase I finally open my eyes. It isn't a truck; it's a freight train thundering toward me. I laugh at myself for choosing such a noisy place to stop but it is time to drive on. I avoid the city of Hamilton by taking the bypass at Cambridge taking a route that is straight apart from the many right angled turns, turns where I have to give way as the highway dog-legs its way north.\n\nNorth of Ngaruawahia I start looking for a place to get off Highway one so I can get what I hope will be a pleasant place to walk for an hour. Choosing is not easy when you are travelling at 100 km/hr without a passenger to watch out for you. In the end my hand is forced because I am rapidly approaching the Bombay Hills, which marks the outer reaches of the octopus that is Auckland city. I make the arbitrary decision that I will turn off at the next side road.\n\nAs I round the first corner I am amazed to find I am driving beside a large carpark alongside what can only be a race track, one that even now has a procession of cars doing circuits. The main stands are however empty and so is the carpark. I drive on slowly with my head twisting from side to side as I look for a way to escape into quiet countryside. On this undulating land quite suddenly I come upon a side road with a sign that reads Correction Facility or, if you want to be old-fashion, a Prison. I push on. Next I am faced with the gates to what used to be described as a Rubbish Dump but now no doubt calls itself a recycling centre. I dismiss this out of hand too. I have my standards.\n\nFinally off to my right another road appears, my last hope. The sign is singularly unwelcoming. It reads Private Road. Well to hell with that, I'm this road private or not. I park under a row of trees where I can still hear the distant sound of the circulating cars. This road undulates charmingly and is indeed the pleasant country side I have been searching for. The late afternoon sun produces soft shadows which enhance the contours of the land. Soon the sounds of the cars have gone. This is perfect. I walk for half hour out and then turn back.\n\nNow I only have to find my way to the airport. Last time I attempted this I got lost in Manuwera, before I finally found someone who knew how to give directions, which is not as common a skill as you might think, most people only give mis-directions.\n\nThis year the challenge is greater because a new motorway has been built since I was last here and nothing of this shows on the old AA maps in my car. Fortunately I had the foresight to get a new map before I left Palmerston North and by the look of the spaghetti shown on the new map I am pleased I did. I don't have either a passenger or a GPS system; however Bruce as printed out a map from the web that claims to give instructions for each twist and turn along the way. Well the worse that can happen is that I'll get lost again. I try to memorise the directions given on the map but it would be more helpful to have something visual.\n\nI head into the complex of junctions like a scared rabbit. However as junctions appear, I find information about taking a right turn and shifting to the right most lane pops unasked into my head and in this way I fluke my way along a path that keeps promising me the airport. Then I am through and driving on the only obvious road, until I get to the airport itself. I arrive from an unfamiliar direction and have to do a double circuit before I finally get into the correct carpark. From here it will be easy as I will have Bruce as a passenger and we're both familiar with the way to Steve and Jan's house from here.\n\n### Out and about in Auckland\n\nVisiting Auckland for us is like pulling on a well-loved pair of shoes. Well-loved because the city has so many happy memories for us and contains so many friends. Here we always do a mixture of things, some familiar and some new. The pot is always stirred by the wonderfully unpredictable weather, always changing but usually mild. This year Judy Molloy is away visiting her family in Canada or perhaps she is showing visitors the delights of Rotorua, either way we don't see her. Helen Charters is now the proud owner of two houses, one in the city, and the other on Waiheke Island, the one we haven't yet seen.\n\nWe stay with Steve Black and Jan Young and on the very first morning we inadvertently trigger one of Steve's migraines. It is Good Friday, so Jan improvises a picnic at One Tree Hill. The sun is bright but in the shade a local wind reminds us winter is coming. We are not the first people to think of a picnic and we join hundreds of others but once we find a place to park everything is easy as there is still lots of space for walking in this huge park. On the top of the One Tree Hill people are gathered like moths around a candle. The noise of cameras clicking is almost deafening. Jan has made good progress on her book by the time we get back to the car. She now takes us to the grounds of an historic home where the old trees tower above us and drive us to attempt unrealistic photos at impossible angles. Diverse statues are scattered around the grounds, the ones in bathing togs I like best.\n\nOn Saturday, (does Easter Saturday have its own name?) Jan has organised a pot luck lunch to celebrate Bruce's 50th birthday. By now well practised in the art of birthdays he plays his part well, even when faced by a cake with candles that must not be lit.\n\nAfter lunch we set off alone to visit the sewerage ponds that Mangere is famous for, of course the ponds are part of a vast estuary, where there is wonderful variety of wading and water birds which are the real attraction. We pass close to a family of Volcanoes we have never seen up close. So we divert and walk up and down each of the volcanoes, trying not to slide on the treacherous pebbles of volcanic rock that have been exposed by the many people following the same path.\n\nAlthough there was no planning on our part, it is close to low tide, the time when the birds are busy searching for unwary snacks in the mud. The leggy herons are sinister in their calculated stalking of small fish and then frightening as their necks explode out at just the right moment to spear an innocent little fish out minding its own business. I only hope the fish have no time for regrets, and that they feel no pain.\n\nThe big surprise for us is the number of Kingfishers who, unconcerned by the amount of mud they are scraping onto their usually spotless yellow breasts, are foraging for food here for food. We are more used to seeing these birds high-diving into clear mountain pools.\n\nIn the evening Jan and Steve take us to eat out with the kind of people I have always wanted to meet, participants in Laughter Yoga. They certainly prove to be a happy lot, people who enjoy living and are not afraid to show it.\n\nSometimes I think that Waiheke Island is the Auckland Bali Hai, an Island where dreams are realised, a place you want to visit again and again. Or perhaps Waiheke is Auckland's Shangri-La. In either case it is special in the way only a dream can be special. Helen Charters is a person who not only dreamed of living on Waiheke but realise her dream. She bought a house that had an overgrown garden, one ready for loving exploitation by someone like her who loves gardens.\n\nThe ride on the fast ferry to Waiheke across the blue waters of Auckland Harbour is a mini holiday by itself. Helen leads us into a magic world of warm sun and fresh green gardens scattered with colourful flowers. I find it impossible to choose between the welcoming casualness of Helen's two bedroom house and a garden that is spilling down the side of the hill as Helen wins the land back from the tangle of vigorous weeds that faced her when she moved in. I am won over by both immediately; seduced by the magic that is Waiheke Island. I remember again the sign that faced us when we drove off the ferry several years ago, \"Relax, you're here now.\"\n\nBut today Helen has other plans for us. She is improvising a lunch to take to the ferry where we will meet one of her friends. Then we will walk along one of the popular cliff side tracks. Then out of nowhere clouds close in and the first scatter of rain appears before abruptly changing to a down pour. But just as quickly the rain disappears again. We cross the first bay and then it is time for lunch. We sit on stones as we share out the food.\n\nAfter lunch we head across a dirt track made slippery by the recent rain. The views we see are what people pay millions of dollars to own, although I think here the cliff side land is protected and will never be in the grasp of only one person. The bright green of the grass contrasts with the deep blue-green of the sea and the unwelcoming blackness of the clouds pregnant with bands of rain that are threatening to join us on shore.\n\nThe track is slick and I treat it with exaggerated respect. Eventually the path drops down into a big bay and at that point I opt to head inland rather that traversing the even steeper cliffs ahead. Everyone else decides to come too. Back in town and it is time to catch the ferry. The Waiheke sun will not return again today. Jan joins us on the ferry, and once again Steve is waiting in Auckland to take us home.\n\nLate on Monday morning, Cristina Weinberg joins us for an excursion out to the walkway in the North West where we get fine views across the harbour to the city, but a city that is so far away it is composed of toy houses where even the Sky Tower is reduced to a child's play thing. At our picnic lunch we are joined first by seagulls, who prove inept at catching the fragments of bread we throw toward them and then by Pukekos, the whole extended family of them. They are greedy for whatever we can spare. Two adolescent birds hover close to get their share while another pukeko peers regally down on us from a cabbage tree.\n\nAfter lunch we continue our walk until we are halted at the edge of the sea by a motor way. It is time to get back to the city, Bruce's plane departs at 5 pm, he has work tomorrow.\n\n### And Driving Home Again\n\nDriving south from Auckland on a week day is a quite different kettle of fish from departing Palmerston North in the morning and my tactics are altered accordingly. Far from hurrying to get on the road, I enjoy a leisurely breakfast and am happy to drive off at nine. Providing, there have been no major accidents, the rush hour traffic will have eased and I will have a relatively unhindered ride along the motorway. Today I am taking the motorway that leads to the airport, but staying on it until it merges into Highway 1. Going south no sophisticated reading of roadside signs is needed, nor is there any need to remember detailed instructions from Google.\n\nSoon I am beyond the most distant tentacles of Auckland city heading for Hamilton. As I did on the way up, I plan to bypass Hamilton and re-join Highway 1 at Cambridge. The signposting has all been changed since I last did this run and I am alert to prevent myself inadvertently sliding into to Hamilton. Driving in this direction the signposts are unhelpful or non-existent.\n\nAs I close in on Ngaruawahia I see no mention of a Cambridge bypass, so I take a side road and find myself driving through beautiful undulating Waikato dairy country. There are no signs to tell me where I am. I stop when I see a Spark service van in a paddock and they tell me I must drive further south on Highway 1 before I will find the exit to Cambridge.\n\nI retrace my steps and press on until I am suddenly faced with two roundabouts in series but where only Hamilton is mentioned as a destination, so I pull off and talk to a man who is lounging in his front garden. He is not surprised to see me, \"Yes lots of people stop here to ask how to get on the bypass. You exit left on the second round about.\" Sure enough at last, but definitely far too late, there I find the sign to Cambridge, and exit on a road that should have been mentioned long before. At last the countryside looks familiar.\n\nI am more than ready to eat when I stop south of Taupo near the tiny town of Hahepe where the road is close to a the lake and there is access to the beach over a distance of about three kilometres. Over this distance the road is screened from the busy road by trees. After lunch I walk to the southern most point where the road begins to climbs up to bluff and discover the rocks just off shore crowded with shags taking a well-earned rest from a morning spent fishing. Light conditions are not perfect but I take lots of photos.\n\nThe clouds come in as I head across the Desert Road and the volcanoes disappear into an impenetrable haze. By the time I leave Taihape the sky begins to release an annoying splatter of drizzle which smears the front windscreen and won't let up. It would be far better if it really rained hard. It gets dark and visibility worsens. To make matters worse on the long straights between Cheltenham and Feilding I get caught behind a slow moving procession of huge harvesting equipment. I am relieved when I finally drive into the front gate at number 17 Waterloo Crescent, to be welcomed by a fine meal Bruce has thoughtfully prepared. The trip to Auckland is over.\n\n# But Wait There's more\n\n## Much Ado about Nothing\n\nWhen you have a picnic and everyone brings different sorts of dishes, there are bound to be mix ups where dishes disappear or appear with or without an owner to claim them. Whether this is turned into a crisis depends on two things, whether it is a person's special dish which has been vaporised, or rendered invisible, and on the temperament of the owner.\n\nFinding a missing dish on the banks of a river or lake may not be difficult, but if the picnic is in someone's house, finding the dish can be like searching for, if not a needle in a haystack, then perhaps a plate in a junk shop. I must point out that my interest in the hunt for the dish in question was only peripheral, so most of what I report is second or third hand.\n\nMark Patchett and Bryan Anderson are quick to answer Shirley's call for her missing plate and they throw themselves into the search enthusiastically. Both seem to know what they are looking for and both seem optimistic about a favourable outcome. However as time passes without the dish being produced, or at least a dish that satisfies Shirley, hopes start to fade. Aloha who did most of the dishwashing hears the description of the dish and assures everyone that she did indeed wash such a dish, which it is agreed, means it must be somewhere amongst Martine's dishes. But where?\n\nFaced with the increasingly probability that no one will find her dish, Shirley gets serious and begins her own systematic search plate by plate and bowl by bowl through Martine's crockery. Despite the increasing intensity of the searching, it still does not get my attention, after all I neither washed nor dried the dishes, nor did I put any dishes away, so I have nothing constructive to offer. Since the word dish and the word bowl encompass many types of crockery, I consider any searching on my part will be a waste of time. Therefore I chat on, taking little interest in proceedings.\n\nSuddenly Shirley bursts out onto the veranda holding a more or less white casserole dish, neatly washed and ready for reuse. It is at this point that Mark and Bryan confess that they were looking for a plastic bowl; a belief that rendered their searching doomed from the start, after all no one can mistake a plastic bowl for a china bowl.\n\nBruce for his part is amazed that Mark and Bryan had got things so badly wrong. \"Weren't you listening when the bowl was described?\" he asks. Well no, they didn't, after all when you positively know what you are looking for why would you bother listening to a description.\"\n\nAll's well that ends well, the clique goes, and it is certainly true this time.\n\nThis whole episode is a good example of what some critics have accused me of, namely writing about nothing. But I think such critics are wrong, nothings can quite quickly become something, even something of importance when they are written about. It is through such nothings human nature is exposed in all its incomplete flakiness. At least that's what I think.\n\n## Rat's in the Roof\n\nMartine van Hove lives in a lovely old two storied house up Scott's road, just at the point where Scotts road begins to climb seriously. Old houses are usually open to invasions by rats as autumn advances and the nights become colder, Martine hears the unmistakeable sounds of rats scuttling around in the roof. Although Martine has several humane traps for capturing mice they are useless when it comes to rats. Besides capturing a live rate is a quite different prospect than capturing a live mouse. Rats become quite aggressive when they are trapped.\n\nBut Martine devises a scheme that achieves the same thing without all the unnecessary messiness that comes when killing live rates. She has two cats and both are fine hunters. So Martine stands on top of her tallest ladder and pushes the reluctant cats through the small manhole and closes it behind them. She leaves the cats with the rats overnight. The rats must have quite quickly realise this was no longer the safe refuge they imagined it to be when they shifted in and they scupper, or at least Martine assumes they have.\n\nThe next morning she removes the manhole cover so she can release the cats. Getting the first reluctant cat to leave the stability offered by being in the roof across the adjoining space and back into the house presents no problem. However the second cat is determined not to be dragged into open space and down the ladder. It strikes out with the only weapon it has available, namely two sets of very sharp claws, leaving blood flowing down Martine's face. Fortunately faces have an excellent blood supply hence the initial bleeding, but because of this blood supply, the wound heals rapidly. The rats we hope have fled the house.\n\nIf you want to try this but don't have cats, borrow one of Martine's, she'll never notice if it's gone for just one night. But two cats are definitely better than one, so maybe you should borrow both cats, in which case good luck.\n\n## Replacing a _Listener_ that is Not Lost\n\nWe have a weekly subscription to the _Listener_. It supplies not only the weeks radio programmes but also all the locally transmitted TV programmes, as well as reviews of books, films, art, and DVDs and magazine articles on things like health, nutrition, technology, psychology, in other words the usual magazine stuff. The feature Articles, are the bait with which the publishers hope to hook the paying public. In the case of New Zealand anything on health is sure to pump up the circulation; as are promises of a longer life and solutions to things like chronic depression, and particularly early warnings of serious health problems.\n\nThe _Listener_ used to arrive on Saturdays but since New Zealand mail deliveries were reduced to three days a week it now arrives on Mondays. Since the TV and Radio programs are for the following week, this still allows time to correct any hiccups in the delivery system.\n\nOn the morning of Friday 27th March Bruce looks up from his breakfast and asks, \"Has this week's _Listener_ arrived yet?\" My first response is, \"I can't remember.\" So I initiate a quick search in the likely places, the pile of magazines on the coffee table, beside the bed, or on the dining room table but I find nothing. Bruce continues with a request, \"Please phone the _Listener_ and ask for a replacement,\" It is his habit to pencil in the programmes he wants to record by Tuesday so I will have to move fast.\n\nI have had to report a missing _Listener_ once before and I know the ropes. The _Listener_ will tell me to buy another copy off the rack and they will extend our subscription by one week. Last time they gave me this choice, I made the mistake of asking them to send us another copy. It never arrived. This time the woman I speak to on the phone seems reluctant to make this same offer but in the end I convince her of the rightness of our case.\n\nBut as soon get to the shop and see the cover of latest _Listener_ , I know it has already arrived. The trouble is the _Listener_ has been running a series of lead articles involving babies and naturally babies have been on the cover and I must confess they all rather look the same to me. At least I now know _Listener_ must be somewhere around our house.\n\nI don't want to cheat the _Listener_ out of an extra free copy, after all magazines are finding it a bit of a squeeze to make ends meet in the age of the smart phone and computer. That night Bruce is surprised when he finds I haven't bought the copy he needs but it only takes a quick search to find the _Listener_ we want on the coffee table in the pile we both searched thoroughly this same morning. The correct date on the magazine should have been enough but it wasn't.\n\nNext day I call _The Listener_ to tell them of our mistake and ask them to delete the extra copy from the subscription they gave us this morning. The woman thinks about it for quite a long time but in the end she says, \"No, you can keep the extra copy.\" Which is very nice of her but I don't know whether she is rewarding our honesty or whether it would have just been too much trouble to reverse the reversal. Whatever the reason we are grateful.\n\nIt would be nice to think this is an example of what happens when you correct an honest mistake and that in the end honesty does pay. But when I think about it I can reach no such conclusion. The moral is more about not jumping to the conclusion that everything must be due to a mistake by the supplier and spend more time looking carefully for what is missing yourself.\n\n## The Mystery of the Missing Wedding Photos\n\nWhat's the first thing you do when you're about to celebrate a 50th Wedding anniversary?\n\nWell I don't know about you, but I want to see the wedding photos from 50 years before. In my case the question is particularly relevant because I was in Oregon when Kay and Ross got married and I couldn't be at their wedding. I phoned Kay on the morning of their big day instead. In the age of the web and Skype this may be hard to believe but at that time the Post Office was charging everyone an arm and a leg to make even the shortest call.\n\nAt weddings back in 1964, what you usually did when you couldn't be there was send a telegram that would be read out by the Best Man at the meal following the wedding service. You paid by the word for the service but it was still cheaper than phoning. When earlier in my stay in Oregon I did attempt to send a telegram it never arrived in Taihape, I think from memory it went to Tahiti instead, my strange, NZ vowels confusing the American operator I spoke to on the phone.\n\nBut hang the cost I only have one sister and she only has only one wedding so I didn't hold back. Kay was suitably surprised by my call but as I remember we didn't talk for too long, a habit we all had in those expensive days and a habit fifty years later I still find hard to break\n\nThe first inkling I had of a problem with Kay and Ross's wedding photos came when my cousin Lynsie called to ask me the colour of Kay's bridesmaids dresses.\n\n\"I don't know Lynsie, I wasn't there. Haven't you got any photos?\" I quickly realised this was a silly comment. Even if she did have photos they probably wouldn't be coloured.\n\nThen the killer blow as Lynsie went on, \"Kay and Ross didn't get wedding photos, the photographer fled the town taking the negatives with him.\"\n\nThe consternation this must have caused in a small town like Taihape never reached me far off in Eugene Oregon.\n\nOver the next few days, I passed this news on to everyone I met. Why, I wondered, would a wedding photographer suddenly flee. Perhaps he had financial problems or perhaps the negatives were (accidentally) destroyed or could it have been a broken love affair, we'll probably never know. What we do know is whatever it was it caused barely a ripple in the equilibrium of our happy couple Kay and Ross's lives. Aloha Brown, Ross's sister, has a gift for unearthing hard to find things like lost photos. When I ask her about the wedding photos she thinks she found a photo of Kay and Ross's wedding in her mother's possessions. So she searches through all her old photos and hits the jackpot and produces a photo of the couple with their parents taken at the wedding. It is of high quality and obviously taken by an accomplished photographer.\n\nWhen I see the photo I learn that our Father remarried a week before Kay and Ross's wedding. What I find fascinating about the photo is the body language of Dad and his new wife Mary. Both have arm positions that are full of tension, on what must have been a difficult day for both of them. Meeting in laws at any time can be difficult but it must have been doubly difficult when it is on a wedding day of a new step-daughter. Nobody I talk to knows who took this photo, although we suspect it was our Uncle Jack who was a fine photographer.\n\nI checked with Brother Gordon's first wife Robyn about wedding photos and without a moment's hesitation she tells me she has photos of Kay's wedding. Unfortunately Robyn is away travelling and she has to get one of her friends to search through her photos but all we found was a picture of the wedding car. Robyn and Gordon had decorated it and Robyn gives me good detail about the satin on the seats and the wedding dolls spread along the back window.\n\nThen out of nowhere, Kay produces an excellent photo of her and Ross in the back of the wedding car smiling like happy chipmunks, with confetti sprinkled all over them. These two photos are reproduced, framed and presented to Kay and Ross on the night of their 50th Wedding Anniversary.\n\nBut there is a post script to the story. A couple of days later Kay appears with a slide taken on her wedding day and she thinks she has more such photos somewhere. It doesn't matter now but one gift these last photos gave me was the confirmation of how happy Kay and Ross were on the day of the wedding. Clearly this was going to be a marriage that survives the stresses of the years, not one that will result in a divorce as the flush of the first years wears off. And this I am glad to say has proved to be the case.\n\nCan you guess what Kay and Ross asked me to send them as my wedding present from the USA? It must show something about the times and what was thought to be unusual in New Zealand, something special enough to warrant a wedding present request. Still can't guess? Well it was a chenille cover for the toilet lid with matching floor mat which wrapped neatly around the base. Not something I had ever heard of but there you go.\n\n## Did you know, EFTPOS cards are More Secure than Credit Cards?\n\nNo? Well let me tell you how I discovered what should have been obvious to me if I'd only thought about it for a moment or two.\n\nFor some reason in New Zealand, or at least in the Manawatu, there is a Mexican food drought. I loved Mexican food from the moment I first tasted it when I went to Oregon in 1962. Well OK you may say it was not real Mexican food but something called Tex-Mex, but whatever it is called I loved it. On the other hand when our German friend Angie, went to the real Mexico, she developed a thorough dislike for the food.\n\nAlthough there is something called a Mexican Restaurant in Palmerston North, their food is nothing like the Oregon or the LA version of Mexican food. However Wellington does now have a restaurant that has a style of tex-mex food I enjoy. I should be more specific, I like refried beans. In my opinion, any restaurant that does not have refried beans in the menu is not fit to be called a Mexican restaurant.\n\nLast time we went to Wellington, I again dragged Bruce along to The Flying Burrito Brothers restaurant. I finished the meal well satisfied with the food. When I went to pay I pulled out my EFPOS card and put it down by the till, however I suddenly remembered that if I used my EFTPOS card I would have to fiddle around entering my pin, so I changed my mind and produced my gold Visa card instead. It was not until the next day that I noticed my EFPOS card was missing from my wallet. I knew immediately where it was, at the Flying Burrito Brothers Restaurant. The problem was, and in this life I find there is always a problem, it is Monday and the restaurant is closed. We return to Palmerston North later that same day and although I checked at the Burrito Brothers the only people at the restaurant were the cleaners. They couldn't find my card in the obvious places but she promises to leave a message for the owner.\n\nIn the meantime, remembering how my credit card company demands I let them know immediately if a card is mislaid, otherwise they will take no responsibility for any cash that is lost. When I do this, I check how many days I have before they will permanently inactivate my card, expecting the usual two or three days. Instead I am told that although they will put a hold on it, and when I press them on whether there is time limit on this hold she replies, \"The EFPOS card is pass-worded using a password that only you know.\n\nI understand the difference immediately, the credit card can be used without knowing a password, in fact my present credit card can be used by just wafting it airily above the machine no password needed. Of course the credit card company wants a hold to be placed immediately.\n\nThe manager does find the card I tell him to mail it to me. But is doesn't come. After a week I phone him again and find out he has been away on sickness leave. When the card finally arrives I walk into the BNZ confident that soon I will have it reactivated again. The man at the BNZ listens to my story, but then discovers his computer will not allow him to reactivate my EFPOS card for which I have all the passwords and better still the one I now know the number off by heart.\n\nHe punches keys aimlessly for some time without succeeding in reactivating the card. He then walks over to discuss the matter with another teller. He returns without making any progress.\n\nCall me pig headed, but I don't want the new card he offers me for free. I ask him to keep trying. He knows he should be able to do this but decides there must be a software problem. Finally I am forced to accept his story and a new EFTPOS card. As I walk out I feel a little foolish. It probably wasn't worth the fuss and I am back in business once again.\n\nWhen a few weeks later I get a new VISA card in the mail, it is no longer called a gold card, it is now a platinum card. The teller explains that the insurance on the card is less, although whether he means for me or the bank I don't know. This is when I finally realise there is no point in arguing, I am just a pawn in a much bigger game.\n\n## When Your Neighbours Mislead You\n\nProgressive city that we live in, it is no surprise that we have long left behind us the crude waste disposal system we used to have, the one every town used to have, the one where every city and town dumped their waste in a site located in a convenient spot usually near a river or stream. Even Massey University used to tip its waste down a hill into the picturesque Turitea stream.\n\nThe main requirement seemed to be that the waste must not be seen by the casual passer-by. Out of sight out mind dominated the thinking. In the case of Palmerston North, the dump was located at the south end of the city beside the Manawatu River. Can you think of a worse place to dump the strange mixture of household rubbish, industrial waste, plastic bags, garden waste and everything else however unmentionable.\n\nAfter a few fits and starts we finally settled into a rubbish collection system built around big bins with orange lids which took everything the city could recycle, smaller black bins for unbroken glass bottles and big plastic bags to take everything else, except garden rubbish. There were also a number of things that were too toxic to just discard, such as batteries, and these had to be treated separately and disposed of safely. This was much better system and one that markedly decreased the volume of rubbish.\n\nAfter a few months the city found it could not cope with all the plastic bags our modern society had to dispose of and no one had found a way to recycle these bags profitably. Before making this change the recycling centre showed us pictures of a recycling centre awash with plastic bags and instructed us to put these bags in with our general waste, the out of sight out of mind attitude once again.\n\nFor the first few months of the new system, the Council gave us a calendar which told us which coloured bin to put out each week. When this printed table ran its course we were on our own. Individuals like me had to keep track of which bin to put out each week. This it turns out is the sort of thing it is remarkably easy to forget. Our brains really only have a certain capacity to do this in the rigorously correct way the system demands.\n\nHowever I quickly discovered that I did not have to keep this information in my head from week to week provided I wasn't the first person in the street to put out my orange or black bin. So I now come out a little later than others and take a quick look up and down to see what sorts of bin was being put out and I do the same.\n\nIt turns out this system is not fail safe. It depends on having an early bird neighbour who is obsessive in remembering such details. Late June in 2015 in a small part of our street the system broke down. As usual I popped my head out and checked what was being put out. Everywhere I looked I saw orange topped bins so I went in and pulled our orange bin outside too. I must say I was a little surprised at how little paper and other recyclables we had in our orange bin, but who am I to challenge a collective decision made in such a democratic way.\n\nIt was not until midmorning that I discovered our collective mistake. It was Betty our next door neighbour who pointed it out to me. \"Why is everyone putting out orange topped bins? It should be glass recycling today.\" I did a double take and then had to concede she was right. Yes there were a cluster of people in our part of the street who had put out orange topped bins but further up and down the street the black glass bins far outnumbered our orange top bins.\n\nBetty and I had a good laugh and Betty seemed to find it particularly funny when she realised I too had put out the wrong bin. So is Betty the secretly obsessive neighbour who has been leading us all in the correct direction? No, it can't be her because she doesn't even put out her orange bin every second week, she waits until she has filled her bin. So she is no metronome. If I relied on her you would find my recyclables spilling out of your bin long before Betty pushed hers out.\n\nSo the mystery remains. I am wondering if the mistake was made by Bob's new tenants. Perhaps I'll ask them.\n\n## On Giving Away Your Rubbish\n\nShaun is the handy man who repaired my chest of drawers and who went on to do many small jobs for Betty. Before Shaun left Betty he discovered while chatting to her, that she wanted to get rid of about six plastic buckets filled with scoria. Shaun is from South Africa and always ready to suggest simple solutions to problems.\n\nHe tells Betty, \"I recently wanted to get rid of a trailer load of office furniture, so I took it out to Massey University and parked it with a notice saying 'FREE Help Yourself to Everything EXCEPT the trailer' and by the end of the day all the furniture had gone. Why don't you leave the buckets of scoria on the front lawn and see if anyone takes them?\"\n\nSo after some thought, the next day Betty does just that. When the lawnmower man leaves, we put the seven buckets out, I scratch a notice and we get out of the way. To be honest I am not hopeful the scoria will be taken, after all scoria is not exactly a high value product, and we live in a very quiet street. Still nothing tried, nothing gained, and if it works this will be a simple solution with no cost to Betty.\n\nI am at Martine's place at 1:15 pm when a text arrives from Betty, \"The Scoria has gone!\"\n\nI'm amazed but I quickly reply 'So it Works!\".\n\nBack home Betty fills me in on the details, \"Reg from the back section came over and asked whether I wanted to get rid of the buckets as well as the scoria. I told him yes and he told me he knew someone who could use the buckets too. So he took everything away in a barrow.\"\n\nI never imagine it would be so easy. Betty is now looking for more things to give away. Perhaps we'll try our luck too,\n\n## When a Tyre Bursts\n\nIt is Friday May 24th, and we have just arrived home after doing the weeks shopping at Pac'nSave. The phone rings. I pick it up and all I hear is silence. I immediately hang up, convinced this must be yet one more marketer. If a marketer is using a computer to do the calling there is always a delay before a real live marketer can get his hands on the phone. But this time it is different. The phone rings again and I hold on for longer. Rose Motion answers. It takes a moment or two for me to make sense of what she is saying, not because it is unclear, but simply on first scanning her words don't make any sense.\n\n\"I'm in my car in the street outside your house,\" she says and of course I get diverted as I try to think of sensible reasons to explain why she hasn't just come in and knocked on the door. Rose continues and everything becomes clear, \"I'm with the grandchildren and I can't leave them alone in the car.\" Out we go to investigate. The youngest, a boy, is crying. The details of the story spill out, \"Em is alone in the car somewhere out beyond Longburn.\" Emily is not someone who will take any nonsense from anyone, but Rose is right women shouldn't be alone on a country road at night. There is more to the story, there always is, \"Em's car hit something on the road. The front tyre has a massive hole in it and the rim is bent.\"\n\n\"Is help on the way?\" I ask.\n\nThe children are all quiet now. I keep smiling at them in a way I hope projects confidence that everything is now in hand, or perhaps I just look demented.\n\nRose continues, \"The AA man came but there was nothing he could do. A tow truck is on the way. But Em will need help to get her stuff out of the car and home.\"\n\nSo Rose takes off and we prepare to depart. As always in such cases the descriptions Rose has given us as to where exactly the car is seem contradictory. Bruce and I have quite different mind maps of the situation. So I call Em to sort this out and we find the situation has changed \"The tow truck will be here in ten minutes,\" Em says, \"Can you meet us at Tony's Tyre Service?\" Of course we can and we will, although we are careful to finding out which of the several Tony Tyre Services in Palmerston North she is being taken to.\n\nOur timing is perfect. As we pull up outside Tony's, the tow truck with warning lights flashing arrives too. We help push Em's car into the forecourt.\n\nEm says, \"The AA man searched to find a way he could arrange for the towing to be free, but finally decided our insurance did not allow it.\"\n\nWe open up the back of our Prius into its carrying mode and stuff the rest of Em's luggage in. Back at the house the second youngest child hands me a picture she has drawn of herself. I am touched. Rose tells me she loves to do drawings.\n\nThen Aaron arrives with Elliot. They have aborted their tramping trip, and it is time for us to leave.\n\n## Kay Gives a Present that Surprises Even Her\n\nMy sister is generous to a fault with the gifts she gives. This year's birthday isn't different from any of the others and I receive several interesting presents from her. Clothes are the theme and in particular the colours of clothes is what she is focussed on. She knows I dislike the mean spirited colour of black, its a colour that has been fashionable for far too many years. Some people seem to labour under the misapprehension that the colour black is smart, it isn't, it's dowdy, grim and sad like a deserted building after a fire.\n\nSo when Kay looks up and down the racks of this year's clothes in the shops, she sees an ocean of blacks and greys, unrelenting in their dullness before she hits the jackpot. In an out of the way part of a shop she sees colour. It is a jacket in a cheerful rich-green colour, the sort of colour that would have had my Irish forebears dancing in the streets. But there is more, attractive leaves are scattered over the green. What could be better? She snaps it up before anyone else nicks this treasure. She proudly presents it to me. I open it up and to my surprise find myself staring at a mass of marijuana leaves all topped off by a massive leaf of the plant printed down my left side. I am for a moment speechless.\n\nI pull the jacket on and then finally Kay realises what she has just given me. She is horrified and immediately starts to back down. I like it and attempt to assure her that the present is if not the most appropriate, is totally acceptable.\n\n\"You're not going to wear it are you,\" she asks in dismay.\n\n\"Of course, I like it.\"\n\n\"You can't wear it. I'll take it back to the shop and get you another jacket.\"\n\n\"But, I do like it. I want to keep it.\" I say and continue, \"You can't go around the world giving people birthday presents and then taking them away again. That's not how it's done. A present is a present, you can't censure it after its been handed over.\"\n\nShe pauses and then makes a stand. \"If you're wearing that I won't go into town with you.\"\n\nOf course after a few days Kay relents and we are now seen out together even at the theatre.\n\nThe responses have been many and varied. Ruth our Yoga teacher takes a week to realise what is printed on the jacket. Bob Lambourne's winter tenant Robbie immediately recognised what it is but asks disbelievingly if I know what the plant is. I assure him I do and leave it at that\n\nAs to people who have not commented I can't imagine what they think but I don't care.\n\nA week after I first received the jacket, Kay appears with another present, exactly the same kind of jacket but in a rich blue colour without any plants on it. I like it but I miss the plants. I'll wear them both but not simultaneously.\n\n## Final Thoughts from the Next Generation\n\nAidan Murphy (six) had a tooth come out today. As he was going off to bed, he said to his Dad, \"I don't think the tooth fairy is real because there is no such thing as fairies. I think it's a robot controlled by the dentists.\" I for one can't find a flaw in his reasoning.\n\nTwas the night before Christmas and 3 year old Lincoln Murphy is still awake. He is going around the house finding gifts to put in his sack for Santa: there were trucks, and toilet paper and chocolates and socks and undies, as well as lollies (of course). His mother told him he had to go to sleep or he would get stuck on the naughty list but even this didn't shake him. He simply said, \"That's OK I quite like coal\". Merry Xmas all\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nTHE CHAINS OF CAPITULATION (Journey Book Three)\n\nBy\n\nGEORGE STRAATMAN\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nCopyright 2014 George Straatman\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nOther Smashwords Titles by George Straatman\n\nTHE CONVERGING\n\nTHE CONVERGING: MARK OF THE DEMON\n\nTHE CONVERGING: CLOSURES IN BLOOD\n\nJOURNEY THROUGH THE LAND OF SHADES\n\nABJECTION ALONG THE ROAD TO APOTHEOSIS (JOURNEY BOOK 2)\n\nCIRCLE OF THE WITCH\n\nACKNOWLEDGMENT\n\nI would like to express my sincere gratitude to Steve Efondo of Sefdesign for his work in providing the stunning cover graphic for this novel. I would also like to thank Leonard Clark for provide the critical second pair of eyes for this project. I dedicate this novel to my wife Louise who has had to live with my creative angst over the many years it's taken to bring this story to fruition.\n\nPrologue\n\nDoraux shook her head in undisguised frustration. She had traversed the entire length of the continent, doggedly surmounting the worst horrors imaginable, only to suffer this perfunctory dismissal. \"Do you not grasp what I'm trying to tell you?\" she began, attempting to contain her ire. \"The world is on the brink of absolute destruction. I might add that you are not without culpability in bringing it to that brink.\"\n\nArtumas accepted the recrimination with a sorrowful nod.\n\n\"This is an opportunity to rectify those errors in judgment and help undo the evil that Myrhia has wrought. We need your help and yours is an obligation as king to give it.\"\n\nArtumas regarded her with pale blue eyes which were tinged with an irrepressible sadness. Watching him, she thought, _'This is how it feels to bear the weight of all sins as a personal burden.'_\n\n\"Perhaps once I was a king,\" he murmured softly, \"though I've since come to believe that royalty is a mantle born of arrogance and presumption. Whatever the case may be, I am no longer qualified to hold that title. The specters of failure and exile have eroded the requisite characteristics from my heart and soul.\"\n\nArtumas paused long enough to meet her incisive gaze. In those flaming emerald depths, he glimpsed the man whom he had once been before Myrhia and humiliation had come to disabuse him of his illusions. He briefly wondered if he could aspire to those lofty ideals again and knew that to even entertain the notion was folly. \"I am a man and nothing more...flawed and broken of kingly pretensions. As I've said, if the fate of the world is to be decided, it will be through the actions of women such as Myrhia and yourself. My time has come and gone.\"\n\nIslena began to object, but Artumas stood and brushed past her. She sat silently for several moments, attempting to gather her composure. Of all the possible futures her mind had conjured, none had been as bleak as this depressing reality.\n\nAs she stood morosely near the fire, she watched the man who had so utterly rejected her plea. Artumas, the legendary king of Emercia, was stooped over, mechanically hoeing rows of soil in his garden. His movements were bereft of vitality, as though he knew that his efforts were pointless and hollow...an exercise meant only to occupy the idle hours before death.\n\nAs Artumas toiled beneath his pall of despair, Islena realized that he had spoken the truth.\n\nChapter One\n\n1\n\nShe stood for a moment, gazing out over the bleak landscape that sloped up from the shore of the great lake. A vast and profound silence gripped this place and if there was a deity, his gaze did not fall here. Her five companions did not speak. Like her, they had been reduced to wordlessness by the bleak desolation of this land as if to speak would stir the malevolent specters that must surely dwell here. Malice seemed to ooze from the infertile gray soil and a high, eldritch odor permeated the air, irritating eyes and lungs alike.\n\nAt last, Lorio disembarked from the boat and trudged through the shallow water, instinctively drawing her quarterstaff as she did. Hers was the posture of one who expects violence to befall them at every step.\n\nIslena watched her companion with a vague sense of alarm gnawing at her insides. Against her muscular thigh, the Dragonsword blazed in strident flashes of vermillion. Then she shrugged off her disquiet and followed the woman who had been her constant companion since the beginning.\n\nEven the earth felt as though it possessed a conscious and willful evil and Doraux was assailed by the irrational certainty that it was about to open up and consume her.\n\nGradually the others left the relative safety of the boat and took their first tentative steps onto the Upper lands. Islena noticed that the two Emercians cast wistful glances back at the long boat and she imagined that they had long since come to rue the day that they had agreed to join the quest for Artumas.\n\n' _We are the walking dead in search of a specter.'_ The thought had leapt unbidden to her mind and yet the inherent truth struck her as blackly ironic. In the extreme of their desperation to find Myrhia, she had trudged through the demesne of the restless spirits in search of a man who, in all probability, was long since dead. The laughable became absurd when she considered that this grim Odyssey had been set in motion on the unsubstantiated word of an incorrigible miscreant named Ynthrax, who had served as the High Commander of Myrhia's army.\n\nA harsh, self deprecating laughter escaped her lips, causing the others to stop and regard her curiously.\n\n\"There is something here that strikes you as humorous, Islena?\" Emian inquired, genuinely perplexed.\n\nShe swung around to the Metocan, and though her voice was light, her expression was edged and grim. \"I wonder, Emian, if one can become philosophical about enduring torment and horror. I mean to say, after one dives through layer upon layer of misery and suffering, do they eventually come to a place where it all becomes...laughable?\"\n\nShe uttered a thin chuckle spawned from nervous tension. \"If one endures the madness that we have and somehow manages to survive, does the act of surviving almost become cursory?\"\n\nEmian continued to regard Doraux, his gaze shifting briefly to Arminda, who appeared equally puzzled by Islena's odd soliloquy.\n\nSeeing their confusion only caused Doraux to chuckle all the harder. \"I'm talking about purity of emotion. Zealots can maintain a steadfast, unremitting love for the object of their zeal, but is it possible that their zeal is rooted more in obsession than in true emotional passion. When I first came to this place, I vowed that I would not believe in most of its purported characteristics...magic or even the existence of this world as anything more than the creation of my own infirmed mind. As adamant as those original intentions were and as tenaciously as I attempted to cling to my own disbelief, events continue to unfold and shatter my every conviction.\"\n\n\"With fear, it is the same thing. We've accrued horrifying experiences the way that a miser hordes pieces of gold. I have lived with constant terror since the first moment I awoke in Kornas and yet I am still able to function. Why? Gradually, if it does not succeed in killing us, fear begins to lose its sway over us. If the purity of emotion was irreducible, we would finally be immobilized by our terror, eventually only capable of awaiting death. As virulent as terror might be, it cannot be maintained and it is this that Myrhia and the tyrants before her have failed to comprehend. Sooner or later, fear is attenuated by other emotions such as outrage, indignation and hatred. At the very worst, terror must give way to indifference.\"\n\nThe Metocan's eyes narrowed speculatively and he suddenly realized, _'these thoughts are not her own.'_ His eyes were involuntarily drawn to the Dragonsword. _'The collective consciousness of the Jerhia is beginning to inculcate itself in her mind.'_\n\nIslena paused for a moment. In the oddly diffused light of the western shore, she appeared indescribably beautiful. Only her emerald eyes betrayed any hint of the tribulations which they had witnessed. \"There is only one emotion that does not relent; despair. It frightens me, Emian, because once you have fallen into that particular pit, your soul very often surrenders the means to raise itself out again. The only chance of reprieve is to find someone with the compassion and courage to enter your dark place and drag you...wrench you...out of the muck by force.\"\n\nShe averted her eyes and murmured, \"I fear the pit because I doubt whether anyone has the strength to pull me out, should I blunder in. Given the choice between despair and laughter, I will cling to laughter, even if it is hollow.\"\n\nIslena fell silent and the others regarded her as though gazing upon something aloof and unobtainable in the enormity of her torment. Arminda inhaled sharply and turned back to the lake. Though she did not grasp all of what this strange woman had said, the elaboration of her raw fear profoundly shook the Jerhia. She found herself pitying Islena and the mammoth burden that fate had imposed upon her.\n\nThe sounds of commotion shattered the moment and Lorio appeared at the top of the slope which led down to where Islena and the others stood. The Lamish woman's exotic features displayed an animation which Doraux could not recall having seen since the days before their captivity in Perdwick.\n\n\"There is something here that you should see,\" she declared mysteriously before vanishing from sight. Curious, Islena raced up the sandy incline with the others only feet behind her.\n\n\"It is not often that your friend displays such animation when she is not enraged,\" Emian observed from behind her and Islena merely nodded in response.\n\nWhen the group crested the slope, the source of Lorio's excitement immediately revealed itself, plunging them into an incredulous silence. After several moments, one of the Emercians, his voice tremulous with wonder, remarked, \"Surely this is not possible. It must be some trick of light and distance.\"\n\n\"It is all too real,\" the Metocan remarked, unable to drag his eyes away from the baffling spectacle.\n\nDoraux heard none of this. Her sensory reality had been reduced to herself and the natural bluff which stretched majestically from northern to southern horizon in an unbroken line. She blinked several times, half expecting the massive bluff to evaporate like a mirage.\n\nIt did not and Islena felt herself inching ever closer to that dread pit of despair which she had mentioned earlier. She shook her head in a gesture of absent dejection and turned away. \"How could we have not seen this thing from the lake? For that matter, how could we not have seen this thing from that damned island?\"\n\nEmian shook his head while gazing speculatively at the towering bluff. \"I'm not sure, but I would suggest that the strictures of our world do not necessarily apply here.\"\n\n\"How high do you suppose that thing is?\" Arminda inquired. Islena would have surmised that the sheer face rose at least a thousand feet above the sterile soil, but Emian's remark prompted her to remain silent.\n\nLorio moved back to join the group. Her eyes were ablaze with a secret emotion that caused the Jerhia to shudder. \"A most imposing obstacle, wouldn't you agree?\"\n\n\"That it is,\" Emian allowed. \"But from this distance, it is impossible to assess exactly how much of an obstacle it represents. To do that, we have no choice but to move closer.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Islena grumbled in a voice that was suddenly surly. \"Let's move closer.\"\n\nShe started to move away, but Lorio abruptly laid a hand upon her shoulder. Doraux regarded the Lamish woman questioningly and for a brief instant, Islena thought that she could detect a trace of the ingenuous girl that she had once been. Then the sardonic smile spread across Lorio's face and she remarked, \"Whatever drove the islanders from this shore awaits us at the cliff. I suspect that this is why we were unable to see it from the water.\"\n\nPerhaps it was just her imagination, but Islena thought that she could detect a subtle hint of desperate entreaty couched within the other woman's tone. \"I just can't turn back,\" she whispered. \"Nor can I expect anyone else to come with me.\"\n\nLorio nodded grimly and then inclined her head toward the improbable bluff. \"Then let us go if we're going.\"\n\n2\n\nIslena's initial assessment of the rock face's height had fallen woefully short. The vertical face was closer to two thousand feet. The distance from the western shore was in excess of twenty miles and the party did not reach the rock face until mid morning of the next day.\n\nThe atmosphere of the plain was unrelentingly bleak to the point where the Blighted Lands of the Eastern continent appeared positively cheerful by contrast. The infertile soil was a uniform, lifeless gray that seemed to find its way into everything, irritating skin like course grained sandpaper. What little vegetation there was consisted primarily of weeds set with the wickedest thorns that Islena had ever set eyes upon. Once, isolated in a shifting sea of choking sand, her eyes had seized upon a solitary bloom with delicate pink and purple petals. She wondered how something of such fragile beauty could possible have thrived in these barren wastes. It occurred to her that the bloom grew as a living symbol of eternal hope...a testimony to the perseverance of life and beauty amidst an ocean of sterile desolation. She wondered if the bloom had been meant as a portent of her own ultimate survival and fervently hoped that this was so.\n\nWhen the party had come to within a mile of the escarpment, they spotted the first of the gray bulbs that dotted the surface of the sheer rock face.\n\n\"What do you suppose they are?\" Arminda inquired of no one in particular. Islena glanced at her sharply and saw that the girl was shuddering. Her eyes had the nervous, harried gleam of a gazelle that has caught the scent of a prowling lion.\n\n\"A deformation of the rock perhaps. In a place such as this, who can tell for certain?\" Islena offered, hoping to allay the Jerhia's anxiety. With her customary brusqueness, Lorio undid Islena's efforts despite the sour glance from Doraux. \"Whatever they are, they are not anything as innocuous as rock deformations. Is there not anyone amongst you who has noticed the odor? It grows more pronounced and rank with every pace we take toward that escarpment.\"\n\nDoraux did smell it then...the pungent odor of dry rot that one might encounter in the walls and ceiling of an abandoned attic. The party considered the odor in silence and then continued their trek toward the rock wall. With each successive step, the instinct to flee grew stronger, as the stench grew to bewildering levels. Soon, Islena and the others were forced to inhale in short, rapid breaths to save from being overwhelmed by nausea.\n\nFinally, they reached a point where a massive crevice prevented further westerly progress. Upon first glance, Islena gleaned much of what must have transpired here.\n\nCautiously, she picked her way to the edge of the precipice and peered down. The perspective spun her head with a terrifying vertigo; the drop falling into darkness so deep that it appeared as though the entire world had been cleft in two.\n\nShe tried to imagine the cataclysmic upheaval that might have created such a fissure and found that she could not. She recalled enough of her high school geology to recognize the massive rock wall as the upside of a thrust fault and briefly wondered if the formation was similar in nature to the Great Mother.\n\nTurning back to the others, she announced that there would be no reaching the escarpment anywhere in this vicinity.\n\nGlancing south and then north, Emian asked \"We will have to follow the fissure until we find a suitable location, but which way do we go?\"\n\nDoraux considered the fissure silently for several seconds, trying to see if intuition would point the way. \"What lies to the north of Metocan?\"\n\nEmian glanced sharply at Doraux, a speculative expression dawning upon his limpid face. \"Quite frankly, that has never been ascertained. The most northerly portion of Metocan is in the province of Ulgak.\" Emian noticed how Islena shuddered at the mention of the homeland of the creatures who had attempted to abduct her in Othgol. \"I see that you are familiar with our cousins. They are rather disconcerting, but are well suited to the climate in northern Metocan. As to your question: the mists which cover most of Metocan grow thicker as one moves northward. Beyond Ulgak, they become impenetrable. I doubt that even Myrhia could find her way through that forbidding region. Why do you ask, Islena?\"\n\n\"Judging by the appearance of the wall, it will stretch over the entire length of the continent. Yet, if there is an ocean or river to the north, we might be able to circumvent this thing.\"\n\n\"It could well be a hundred leagues to the north, Islena?\" Emian protested.\n\n\"True, but the prospect of attempting to scale that vertical face isn't exactly filling my heart with boundless joy.\"\n\nThe Metocan offered Islena a thin smile. Lorio, who had viewed this exchange with an ironic grin, suddenly stepped forward. \"It would seem that your islander friends not only have a penchant for abusing women, they also take delight in keeping secrets.\"\n\nBoth Islena and Emian glanced questioningly at their Lamish companion, who merely inclined her head toward the length of rope which Ramod's men had provided for the party. The implication of the gesture made it clear that she believed the islanders knew precisely what the party would encounter here. \"Five lengths of stout climbing rope and not a word mentioned about the existence of this obstacle.\"\n\n\"Maybe they thought that its presence would be obvious,\" Islena offered by way of explanation.\n\n\"Or perhaps our hosts never really expected us to reach this point,\" Lorio countered, her grin broadening.\n\n\"Your grim pronouncements grow tiresome,\" Emian grumbled in a rare display of ire.\n\nLorio merely scowled menacingly at the Metocan, prompting Doraux to impose herself between the pair. \"Lorio, Emian is right; pessimism isn't going to do much for moral.\"\n\nThe taller woman grunted and spun away, leaving the pair staring after her in bewilderment.\n\n\"Your friend is a dark well, Islena. It is impossible to predict what secrets might be harbored in the lightless labyrinth of her soul.\" Emian's comment elicited a noncommittal grunt from Islena.\n\nAnxious to change the subject, she remarked, \"If only Sormias were here.\"\n\n\"The Golgar's continuing absence troubles me. Like your Lorio, it is difficult to discern what motives work behind his actions.\"\n\nTalk of Sormias roused thoughts of Gillian and she immediately regretted broaching the subject. Wanting only to move, she gathered the group about her. Scanning every face, she saw weariness warring with trepidation, save for Lorio, whose lovely countenance remained inscrutable. \"Whether we climb the escarpment or try to go around it, we cannot reach the base here. Unless someone has a specific objection, I say that we follow the fissure northward. We all understand that time is our enemy, so we'll have to limit how far we'll go before we cross the fissure and try to scale the rock face.\"\n\nWhen no alternative suggestions were forthcoming, the party picked up their packs and began to follow the cleft.\n\nThe thrust face had been broken through a series of rolling hills. On each occasion that the group crested an incline, Islena hoped that a pass would reveal itself, yet the rock wall remained unbroken. It soon became apparent that the party would have to look for a way to ford the crevice, though the prospect filled Islena's heart with a formless dread.\n\nArminda drifted up beside Doraux. Her eyes were hooded, but Islena could sense that she radiated fear like a low level heat. Misconstruing the source of her apprehension, Islena offered \"Rock climbing isn't exactly the greatest of my talents. You and I will work together.\"\n\nThe Jerhia glanced up at Islena, revealing the full depth of her anxiety. \"It is not the prospect of the climb that frightens me, Islena. Our country is mountainous and Jerhia children are taught to climb not long after they learn to walk.\"\n\nDoraux frowned. \"I'm sorry, Arminda. I thought that it was your arm making the notion of the climb unsettling.\"\n\nThe pain in the girls eyes intensified and she glanced away. \"I will not be a burden to the quest, Islena...at least, not in that regard.\"\n\n\"What fills me with dread are the...abominations,\" she whispered, pointing to the gray bulbs which littered the rock face like some manner of deformity. \"They are obscene and terrible, like diseased growths. I sense that they possess an awful purpose...a terrible patience.\"\n\n\"I think that you're beginning to take Lorio to heart,\" Islena laughed, attempting to sound nonchalant. Still, she had also tried to thrust the thoughts of the hanging gray bulbs from her mind. The Jerhia shook her head morosely. \"I fear, on this one occasion, your morbid friend might just prove correct.\"\n\nThen the girl quickened her pace and moved ahead with her eyes downcast and her shoulders hunched as though to ward off her own terror. Islena glanced back at Lorio, to find the hybrid regarding her with an intensity that was utterly disconcerting. Exasperated, Islena glowered and looked away, trying not to be affected by the mounting pessimism that seemed to be creeping over the party's mood like an invisible pall.\n\nThe group traveled northward for the remainder of the day, with their hopes of finding a pass waning with each successive mile. The sun was beginning its final descent, when they happened upon a ravine where the chasm spanned no more than fifteen feet. Doraux directed the Emercians to range ahead to determine what the crevice might do in the next few hundred yards. In her mind, she had already reconciled herself to making the climb and now she commenced the battle to hold her fears at bay. Natural athleticism and power aside, Islena understood that she had no experience in rock climbing and was faced with a challenge that might have proved formidable for the most experienced of climbers. Drawing an unsteady breath, she deliberately turned her back on the wall.\n\nShe approached Arminda and Emian, who were both drawing food stuff from their packs. Near the edge of the crevice, she saw Lorio staring fixedly at the bulbs which littered the face of the rock wall. _'There are more of them here than at any point thus far,'_ Islena realized and felt the icy thread of terror burrow deeper into her guts. _'What do you see, Lorio? And why are you never afraid?'_\n\nThese were but two of the questions to add to the growing list of others which Islena had accrued regarding her cryptic friend.\n\nThe Jerhia smiled as Islena approached, but her ashen complexion clearly conveyed her displeasure at Islena's imminent decision. Islena shrugged apologetically as if to suggest that she had been left no other choice in the matter...to which Arminda merely nodded glumly. Emian observed this silent exchange with an expression of puzzlement. Unlike the others, who suddenly seemed attuned to everything about them, the Metocan had been dismayed to discover that his percipience had vanished the moment that the party had crossed the Hiberas. His ability to divine the thoughts of others had likewise vanished, leaving him feeling isolated and vulnerable...two conditions to which he was not accustomed.\n\nIslena gestured toward the rock face. \"How long do you think it will take us to scale that thing?\"\n\nArminda peered through the deepening shadow, experienced eyes assessing the face and the difficulty of the climb. \"The rock is striated and appears to have no shortage of hand and foot holds. For a proficient climber, the top might be attained in two hours. With the composition of our party, we could reasonably expect to double that time. This is assuming that we encounter no difficulty or panic. I would also recommend that we do not attempt the climb in the event of rain or if rain is imminent. The rock would become treacherous and the difficulty would increase tenfold.\"\n\nIslena considered this for a moment. \"Very well, we'll start first thing in the morning.\"\n\nThe three settled into a supper of dried fruits and meat. The sun had vanished beyond the face of the escarpment when the Emercians returned from their reconnaissance of the north. They sprinted down the slope as though they were being pursued by Myrhia herself, coming to a breathless, skidding halt before Islena.\n\nCerindyn took several seconds to regain his compose and then made his report. \"The fissure widens as it moves northward. Oddly, the rock seems less stable as though it might be rotten. The escarpment did not diminish in height.\"\n\n\"Then it looks like this is the place to make the climb,\" Doraux concluded. \"Did you see any sign of habitation?\"\n\nCerindyn shook his head. \"Not the slightest indication of habitation of any kind, human or otherwise. This accursed world is utterly deserted.\"\n\n\"On that point, you are wrong,\" Lorio contradicted. All eyes turned to the Lamish beauty, whose mysterious pulchritude seemed enhanced by the darkness. In the darkness, her black eyes glistened like diamonds. \"Open your eyes to the night.\"\n\nAs one, the group lapsed into an expectant silence, but the only sound that Islena could discern was the popping and cracking of the campfire. Then, gradually, she became aware of another sound, one so sly and furtive that it was not possible to pinpoint a specific source of origin. Slowly, the five climbed to their feet and peered about. Suddenly, the night seemed alive with the low menacing sound of sly movement.\n\n\"What could it be?\" Arminda asked, her voice edged with the first stirrings of panic. The night had suddenly closed about the party like a blanket and nothing could be distinguished beyond a few feet outside the circle of flickering light.\n\n\"Be prepared to fight,\" Doraux commanded and drew the Dragonsword, the rubies of which flickered a hectic warning. Lorio shook her head. \"I don't think that they intend to attack. It is more likely that they seek to discover just what we are and assess what manner of threat we pose to them.\"\n\n\"How can you possibly know that?\" Islena snapped irritably. Lorio merely shrugged and glanced away.\n\n\"Damn it, if they won't fight, then we'll have to flush them out.\" Doraux raised the sword aloft, closed her eyes and unleashed a controlled blast of power. The ruby light illuminated the surrounding area from hill to hill, but revealed nothing. Islena sustained the fiery display for several seconds, but when nothing revealed itself, she allowed the power to abate.\n\n\"Perhaps whatever is out there fears fire or light,\" One of the Emercians observed hopefully, evoking a gaze of twisted pity from Lorio.\n\n\"We'll have to divide the night into two watches. Lorio and the two Emercians will take the first watch, establishing a triangular perimeter about the encampment. Keep your torches burning constantly and midway through the night, we will relieve you.\"\n\nLorio and the second Emercian immediately moved to comply but Cerindyn stepped closer and in a quiet voice, inquired, \"Might I have a word with you, Milady.\"\n\nIslena nodded reluctantly, surprised by the degree of hesitation she experienced. The Emercian retrieved a torch and the pair moved silently off to his portion of the watch.\n\nNo words were exchanged for several seconds and Doraux could sense that he was groping for the proper commencement to whatever he felt he needed to say. \"Milady, I am a soldier, not an orator; fancy speech is not natural to me. Still, there is something that I feel compelled to say to you.\"\n\nCerindyn paused and after a protracted silence, Islena nodded for him to proceed.\n\n\"I want to begin by saying that Nymal and I are honored to be members of this quest. Though we have tried to render the best service that our limited talents allow, I sense a certain reticence towards us...not only from the others, but from you as well.\" He paused and glanced at Doraux as though in search of confirmation. In her heart, Doraux was forced to concede that she did regard the two through jaundice eyes, as though she fully expected them to commit some vile act of treachery at any the first given opportunity. She nodded thoughtfully and offered the Emercian an apologetic grin.\n\n\"Milady, there is no possible justification for many of the things which have been done over the course of the last seven years. These things have left an indelible stain on the face of our nation. Emercia was once recognized as a veritable paradise, but now it is viewed as the centre of hell, itself. Under Artumas, we became known as the arbiters of peace, holding forth the promise of prosperity. With the coming of Myrhia, all of this has been forgotten.\"\n\n\"Your army's actions at the Hiberas will help restore some of that credibility,\" Islena offered, not entirely believing her own words. In this world, hatreds were hoarded like precious gems.\n\nCerindyn's expression became somber. \"Milady, many of the atrocities were acts of the barbarian mercenaries. Myrhia incorporated these elements into the Imperial army to insure that it would remain loyal and...divided. I am not trying to deflect the blame to others, yet...\"\n\n\"There is no need,\" Islena remarked uncomfortably.\n\n\"There is a need!\" he countered fiercely. \"It is essential that you understand that Emercia is as much a victim as the countries which fell under Myrhia's fist. We were forced to become the puppets of her will. Had she been human, something would have been done to remove her scourge.\"\n\nHe turned to Islena and clutched her forearm. Even in the darkness, she could sense the vehemence radiating from his eyes. \"Myrhia is not human. If she is to be destroyed, it must be at the hand of one such as you.\"\n\nDoraux wanted desperately to repudiate this charge of burden, but in a moment of blinding insight, she realized that this was the unequivocal truth. She offered the Emercian a curt nod and then strode back to the fire and her blankets.\n\nDespite the prevailing atmosphere of anxiety that had enveloped the party, Islena fell immediately into the embrace of a mercifully dreamless sleep.\n\nChapter Two\n\n1\n\nDoraux was surprised to find that it was the first warm rays of sunlight which summoned her out of sleep on the following morning. Disconcerted, she sat up and gazed about to find the two Emercians sound asleep on the opposite side of the dead fire. At triangular points along the crest of the valley, she spotted Emian, Arminda and Lorio. Rising, she stretched languorously and gestured for the three to come down from the hills.\n\n\"Why was I not awakened?\" she demanded.\n\nEmian shrugged helplessly. \"Lorio insisted that you not be awakened.\"\n\nShe turned to the Lamish beauty, who offered her a rather cryptic smile...an expression which had become her trademark as of late. \"The ultimate burden has fallen upon your shoulders,\" the hybrid observed softly. \"The occasional special consideration is the least you deserve in return.\"\n\nIslena smiled fondly at the other woman. For the first time since the day before the nightmare in Runesholm, Lorio displayed some traces of her former personality. Doraux had no way of knowing that this was the final instant that the old Lorio would surface for some time to come.\n\nThe party consumed a quick breakfast of dried fruits and nuts. As they ate, Islena discussed the initial problem of spanning the fifteen foot fissure to reach the base of the rock wall. Ponderously, Arminda rose to her feet. \"There is a simple method...one developed by the Jerhia for rapid movement through exactly this type of obstacle.\"\n\nShe abruptly averted her eyes. \"Unfortunately, I do not know if I am capable of making the required archery shot.\"\n\nHer gaze drifted to her paralyzed arm, which she regarded with intense hatred. Islena sprang to her feet and gripped the girl by both shoulders. Gazing into those pale blue eyes, Doraux glimpsed the pool of despair of which she had so recently spoken. It occurred to her that the Jerhia had reached a critical juncture in her life and if she failed in this one crucial task her infirmity would inevitably destroy her.\n\n\"Tell me how to cross the crevice,\" Islena demanded, her tone emphatic, almost harsh. Arminda's eyes widened briefly and then she nodded tightly. She retrieved her crossbow and quiver of bolts. From this, she drew forth two bolts with serrated tips that appeared capable of pulverizing bone. The end of the bolt tilted away from the shaft, ending in a heavy iron loop and an iron sleeve.\n\nThough she immediately grasped the principle, Islena could scarcely believe her eyes. Arminda beamed, proud of the Jerhia ingenuity which the simple concept represented. \"Obviously, the rope is fastened through the sleeve. This part of the shaft has been tilted away so as not to interfere with the action of the crossbow.\"\n\nHer smile faded and she glanced pleadingly at Islena. \"I am no longer able to use this.\"\n\nIslena was attempting to use some words of encouragement, when Lorio gripped the smaller woman by the collar of her ragged tunic and threw her to the ground. The others gaped in horror, while Islena stepped between the pair and raged, \"How dare you?\"\n\nLorio merely grinned and Islena immediately understood that the hybrid had not been motivated by anger. Still, her actions had been unspeakably cruel. \"The girl is worthless,\" Lorio intoned evenly, gazing down upon Arminda, who had pushed herself to one elbow. \"You are a liability to the party.\"\n\n\"That's enough, Lorio,\" Islena growled and stepped forward, trying to usher the hybrid away from the fallen Jerhia. Lorio merely took a compensating step backward and continued to berate the girl. \"As you are now, you disgrace your people. The party would be best served if you would throw yourself into the fissure. If you lack the courage, I would gladly assist you.\"\n\n\"Damn you, Lorio,\" Islena barked and started to reach for the hybrid. Yet, before she could grip the other woman's wrist, she heard a cry of fury, felt a sharp shove to her lower back and found herself sprawled in the lifeless dirt.\n\nDoraux shook her head and glanced up to see that it had been the Jerhia who had struck her from behind. Presently, she launched herself at the taller woman, pummeling Lorio with her good fist and both feet. Lorio absorbed the blows impassively. Islena rose to intervene, but Emian placed a restraining hand upon her shoulder. \"Patience for a moment, please. Your mysterious friend has no intention of harming the Jerhia.\"\n\nStill doubtful, something nonetheless induced Doraux to remain still.\n\nArminda heaped incoherent, tearful derision upon Lorio. Never had Doraux witnessed such a display of overt emotion from a Jerhia. Finally, Lorio seized Arminda by her paralyzed arm and ducking forward, threw the girl over her shoulders like a sack of feathers. The Jerhia landed with a grunt but quickly bounded up and charged the taller woman. The Lamish woman slapped her down with the casual ease of one swatting an annoying bug.\n\nThough the Jerhia landed heavily, she refused to be deterred. Springing up, she started cautiously toward Lorio, who marked her approach with eyes that were as cold as glaciers. Unable to endure any more of the humiliating spectacle, Islena shrugged Emian off and seized Arminda up in a mighty bear hug. The Jerhia's fruitless efforts to free herself caused her to keen like a wounded animal.\n\nTears tracked meandering pathways down her dirty face. \"Stop, Arminda!\" Islena pleaded. \"We can't afford to fight each other.\"\n\nThe woman's thrashing abruptly subsided, but her tears did not. Lorio regarded Arminda's display of emotion dispassionately. Suddenly, she strode forward and snatched up the Jerhia's forgotten crossbow.\n\n\"I imagine that you despise me at this particular moment?\" she inquired mildly. Arminda glared balefully, but said nothing. \"If so, your hatred is misplaced.\"\n\nShe abruptly thrust the weapon into Arminda's face. \"This should be the object of your rancor. It mocks your infirmity more savagely than I ever could. If you wish to vent your wrath upon something, vent it upon this...your true enemy.\"\n\nShe threw the weapon into the dirt at Arminda's feet. \"This was once an appendage of your body and possibly your truest companion. Now it is a symbol of your disability. Do you have the courage to bend it to your service again?\"\n\n\"I can't, damn you!\" Arminda hissed, her pain echoing over the deserted valley.\n\n\"You can...and for all of our sakes, you must,\" Lorio countered in a surprisingly gentle tone. \"If you are to live, you must conquer that which was once yours.\" Ominously, she added, \"Or it will conquer you.\"\n\nArminda lowered her head and asked quietly, \"Release me, Islena. Please.\"\n\nDoraux hesitated for a moment and then stepped back. The two adversaries regarded each other in silence. Lorio did not flinch, but Islena doubted that she would have blinked in the face of Lucifer, himself.\n\nLorio again retrieved the weapon and offered it to Arminda. \"You've shown me your hurt and outrage...now show me your courage.\"\n\nArminda merely stared at the crossbow for several seconds and then snapped it away. In a voice tinged with frost, she declared, \"You have a talent for imparting harsh lessons. Pray that you are never so cruelly instructed.\"\n\nLorio cast a significant glance at Islena and murmured, \"You can't begin to imagine what truly harsh education can be. Now I say that you cannot provide us with access to the other side of this fissure. Prove me wrong!\"\n\nLinking the Jerhia's arm in hers, Lorio led Arminda to the edge of the chasm. Islena regarded the Lamish beauty, her oldest companion, with a turbulent mixture of ambivalence; uncertain if the other woman's action warranted applause or loathing.\n\nThe rest of the party gathered up their gear and followed the two women. Lorio helped Arminda feed one end of the rope through the circular loop of the bolt and then unfurled the coils of heavy climbing rope.\n\nIslena gingerly crept to the edge of the fissure and peered down into the impenetrable darkness. She picked up a large stone and allowed it to drop into the abyss, waiting for the faint echo as it struck bottom. When none was forthcoming, Islena shuddered and closed her eyes.\n\nAfter the bolt had been prepared and the rope unfurled, Lorio stood erect, and spreading her stance, extended her right arm. \"Brace the bow upon my arm. You need only fire.\"\n\nArminda regarded Lorio silently for several seconds, her face clouded with a turbulent storm of emotions. Slowly, she raised the crossbow and braced it on the Lamish woman's unmoving forearm. For a fleeting instant, the Jerhia was sorely tempted to fire the bolt into the sadistic woman's black heart, but the impulse passed quickly.\n\nHer index finger settled over the trigger as she sighted the target some forty feet away. She had performed this very action routinely perhaps ten thousand times before, but now the bow felt cumbersome and unfamiliar. Drawing a deep breath, she depressed the trigger and the bolt sprang from the bow with a resounding twang. Time seemed to suspend itself on a hinge and then the bolt stuck solid rock and shattered some six inches from the crack which Arminda had selected.\n\n\"Damn my soul,\" the Jerhia whispered despondently and sagged away from the Lamish woman. Watching, Islena felt her heart wrench painfully in her chest.\n\n\"Have you never missed a shot?\" Lorio inquired casually, while she hauled back the rope and segment of shattered bolt. Arminda flashed a baleful glance at her antagonistic companion.\n\n\"Yes, I've missed,\" she snarled between clenched teeth. \"But never so badly.\"\n\nLorio straightened and turned her benign gaze upon the smaller woman. \"Who is to say that it was not I who faltered?\"\n\n\"There is only one arrow left!\" Arminda exclaimed, and beneath the Jerhia's grief, Doraux could detect a hint of desperation.\n\nLorio produced the remaining bolt and began to fasten the length of rope. \"Then you'll have to compensate for the error and make a perfect shot, won't you?\"\n\nFor a long while, Arminda remained motionless and then she came forward to prepare for the crucial second shot. Islena understood that, should this bolt suffer the same fate as the first, the party would be forced to trek north until the fissure narrowed sufficiently to allow a crossing. Some pessimistic sense warned her that such a trek would be a long and arduous one indeed. A quick glance around those assembled revealed that the others had drawn the same conclusion.\n\nAgain, Lorio braced herself and extended her arm. Arminda closed her eyes, attempting to catalogue the various mechanics which had made her a superior archer. Gradually, she constructed an image of the weapon wielder that she had been before her maiming and again opened her eyes. Watching the Jerhia's change of expression, Lorio began to smile.\n\nArminda locked in the target, closed her eyes to prevent second guessing and depressed the trigger.\n\nA hollow twang filled the air, followed by a profound silence, and when she opened her eyes, the Jerhia was ecstatic to find that the bolt was buried deep in the cleft of the opposite wall. She then shifted her gaze to Lorio, her face alight with a mixture of relief and incredulity.\n\n\"Perhaps you can delay your destruction for another day,\" the hybrid allowed evenly, before turning away to test the strength of the line.\n\nThe Jerhia averted her eyes from the gaze of the others, surprised by how profoundly shaken the experience had left her. She drifted over to Islena, who hugged her and observed happily, \"I think that you actually earned her admiration...not an easy thing to do.\"\n\n\"The bolt will hold,\" Lorio declared, though her eyes were fixed upon the profusion of gray bulbs which littered the face of the towering rock wall. Her preternatural hybrid senses informed her that the things contained within the bulbs were undergoing a subtle transformation of some sort. This bit of alarming insight, she elected to keep to herself.\n\nMoments later, the six began the laborious process of crossing the fissure. Doraux was the first to cross. Hanging upside down, powerful thighs wrapped about the taut length of rope, she conveyed herself across, while refusing to gaze anywhere but the opposite shelf of rock. She experienced a moment of profound gratitude when again her legs swung down to solid earth.\n\nThat gratitude quickly degenerated in to a coughing fit as the noxious odor filled her lungs. Cries of concern reached her ears from the opposite side of the fissure, but she waved them off.\n\n\"This place smells like a cesspool.\" she croaked and untied the safety rope, while trying to confine her breathing to short, shallow gasps. As the others made the crossing, Islena turned her attention to the daunting task of scaling the rock face. _'You're really going to try to climb this thing,'_ she inquired of herself. _'Yep, I intend to do just that.'_\n\nAbove her, the vertical face vanished into the low sailing clouds. The foot and hand holds which Arminda claimed would facilitate their climb now seemed like blemishes in an otherwise smooth face.\n\nThere came a tense moment as Lorio attempted to cross the crevice. As the last to cross, and with nothing upon which to tie off the rope, crossing would require that she swing down and scale the far wall of the chasm. While Islena and the Emercians held the safety and main lines, Lorio prepared to make her leap. As she moved to the edge, her foot snagged on a small outcrop of rock and the normally agile Lorio tumbled over the side in a sprawl of limbs.\n\nShe plummeted down twenty feet and then slammed heavily into the west wall of the abyss, very nearly dragging her three anchor people into the fissure. The three managed to avert that calamity and slowly hoisted Lorio up onto the rock shelf. To the surprise of all, Lorio seemed uninjured by the fall, save for her wounded pride and a small, bloodless abrasion just above her left eye. She muttered an apology, brushed sand and dust from her tunic and went off to examine the rock face, leaving the others gaping after her in exasperation.\n\nAfter a moment, a shaken Islena turned to Arminda and inquired, \"What now?\"\n\nThe Jerhia gazed up and then northward along the rock ledge. \"I suggest that we follow the shelf until we find a location where there are more hand holds and less of those gray bulbs.\" She pointed to a spot some three hundred yards further along. \"That looks like a more promising area.\"\n\nThe six gathered up their goods and began moving along the narrow rock shelf. Islena could feel the constant thrum of the Dragonsword against her thigh. It's formerly vague message had grown more urgent now that they had reached the base of the escarpment. When they came to the spot which Islena had indicated, the girl hung her crossbow over her shoulder and nodded thoughtfully. \"This is more suitable. We will begin the climb from here.\"\n\n2\n\nThe six divided into two groups of three; the first consisting of Emian and the two Emercians, while the other team was comprised of the three females. Connected by lengths of rope looped about the waist of each climber, the two groups began their ascent. By unspoken agreement, the two groups selected routes which would allow the gray bulbs the widest berths possible.\n\nIslena attempted to confine her line of sight to the area immediately in front and above her, concentrating on the task of seeking out sturdy foot and hand holds. She adamantly refused to glance down, despite the temptation which nagged at her like an insatiable itch. With Lorio in the lead, her group progressed slowly. The Lamish woman climbed with the agility and confidence of a mountain goat, though she deliberately slowed her pace to accommodate Arminda's infirmity.\n\nAbove her, Islena was painfully aware of the Jerhia's labored breathing. The girl, once a natural climber, was now forced to haul herself up to the next available hand hold with her one good hand...making each transfer of weight an exercise in exhaustion and potential disaster. She experienced her most difficult moment when the upward progress was halted by a smooth section of rock face. Then it became necessary to move laterally, but for the handicapped Arminda, this proved excruciatingly difficult. On several occasions, Islena was forced to climb up to the girl and assist her from one handhold to the next.\n\nGazing into the Jerhia's eyes, Islena could discern that it was grim determination alone that warded the girl against utter capitulation. On these occasions, Arminda would accept Islena's hand with a sheepish grin. After an eternity (or so it seemed) Doraux chanced a glance downward and was dismayed to find that they had not yet reached the halfway point. Emian and the two Emercians labored perhaps a hundred yards beneath the group. Fetching a deep breath, she turned about and resumed her climb. Her body was bathed in a sheen of perspiration and she was constantly forced to draw her sleeve across her face. Still, despite the prolonged deprivation of the climb, her muscles thrummed with power and her surplus of energy seemed virtually inexhaustible.\n\n\"There appears to be a ledge no more than a hundred feet above us,\" Lorio called out. \"We will rest there.\"\n\nLike Islena, the Lamish woman displayed no outward sign of fatigue. More to the point, her lovely features seemed set in lines of sardonic amusement as though she viewed the entire situation as uproariously funny. Finally, the group reached the ledge and Lorio sat with her back to the cold stone, feet dangling over the precipice.\n\nIslena finally reached the ledge and pulled herself next to Lorio. A few feet away, Arminda lay slumped across the narrow ribbon of stone, her chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm. Doraux glanced at the taller woman, her expression fraught with concern. Lorio smiled and reached across to lay a gentle hand upon the Jerhia's shoulder. Watching, Islena felt a vague tension loosen in her chest...a tension that had plagued her since their departure from Othgol. If Lorio was capable of this simple gesture of humanity, then it was possible that Islena's dark misgivings were unfounded.\n\nLorio abruptly glanced at Doraux, her dark eyes burning fiercely. \"Why did you allow that bastard to flog you on the island?\"\n\nShe had posed the question with such vehemence that Islena discerned that this had plagued the Lamish beauty since the party had left the island. After a brief hesitation, Doraux reached out and gently took Lorio's hand. The statuesque warrior tensed and then Islena could feel her relax. \"Lorio, there are times when pain can be more poignant than raw aggression. The islanders are simple people and I sensed that I could make a lasting impression upon them if I willingly subjected myself to a striping.\"\n\n\"Still, you are the One! These wretches should crawl at your feet and beg for your favor and benevolence. Their actions are an affront to destiny.\" Lorio's cheeks had colored a hectic red. In the uncompromising view of the Lamish warrior, Doraux had debased herself by allowing common islanders to inflict their crude justice upon what she had come to perceive as sacred flesh. By doing so, Islena had lost much of the other woman's hard won admiration and respect.\n\nDoraux smiled and placed a hand over the other woman's, squeezing slightly as she did. \"This savior business is a difficult proposition and I'm still not sure that I'm well suited to it. There is one particular insight that I've obtained...violence and incessant warfare is very much like quicksand in that...once you've blunder into it, you are very likely to be consumed. After a while, it becomes impossible to distinguish one side from the other. Often, as generations go by, it is difficult to recall what precipitated the conflict to begin with, but everyone is left sullied by the heinous acts they've committed.\"\n\nShe paused and searched Lorio's face for some sign of comprehension, but found that the Lamish woman regarded her as though she had suddenly begun to speak another language. Islena sighed and stole a brief glance downward, wincing as the sheer drop gave her a rush of vertigo.\n\n\"Islena, you must inure yourself if you are to have any chance against Myrhia,\" Lorio advised tightly.\n\nIslena shook her head vehemently. \"In the days and hours since I left Perdwick, I've constantly thought about Myrhia and how I feel about the woman and her actions. At first, I despised her with every fiber of my being and would gladly have torn her throat out with my teeth had the opportunity arisen. Oddly enough, my hatred has evolved into a kind of pity.\"\n\nLorio's expression of disbelief intensified, but Islena pressed on. \"I suspect that Myrhia is the emptiest, loneliest being in existence. All of her power cannot compensate for the void in her soul. I'm not sure how I know this, but I do. Some deeper sense tells me that this dark drama in which we are enmeshed is but a chapter of a much longer saga. Perhaps this makes little sense, but there are occasions when I feel certain that I've experienced other versions of this particular conflict. Despite all of the suffering and misery that she has engineered, I still wish that there was another way to resolve this battle, to defeat Myrhia. The lessons learned would be far more enduring.\"\n\nLorio said nothing and the two women sat in silence for several moments. The inscrutable beauty stared out at the eerie desolation of the Lower Lands as though arranging her thoughts. Finally, still not glancing at Islena, she remarked, \"You know that I love you more than anything in my life. Indeed, you are the sole reason that I have survived all that I have. Still, I must warn you that this pacifist ideal of yours is one of sheer folly. Your assessment of Myrhia is not only inaccurate, it is fatally misguided. The need for absolute dominion is her only desire and companion. She is not encumbered by concepts such as compassion and mercy. These are weaknesses that she will masterfully exploit. When the moment comes to face her, you must do so with all possible violence and all of the rancor and belligerence that your soul can muster.\"\n\n\"Do you realize that you are asking me to become precisely like her,\" Doraux pointed out, her tone echoing a thread of revulsion.\n\n\"If you do not, we are lost,\" Lorio declared gravely. Then she stood gracefully, unmindful of the precipice. \"If you do not, I am lost.\"\n\nBefore Islena could ask her friend to elaborate, Lorio turned away and prepared to resume the climb. Doraux stared glumly after the taller woman and thought, _'I pray that you are wrong, Lorio, because if hatred and violence are our only sources of deliverance, then we are lost already.'_\n\nGingerly, Islena climbed to her feet and gazed up at the sheer face that remained to be scaled. As she did, there came a surge of jubilation so profound that it set her legs to trembling. The party had come nearly two thirds of the way up the face without incident. Despite her intense apprehension, she had availed herself well and pride would propel her over the remainder of the climb. Tracing the sheer face, Islena could see nothing that would hinder the party's quest for the Upper lands.\n\n' _Two hours. Perhaps less,'_ she told herself, _'and the final leg of this nightmare trek can begin.'_ She recalled her initial terror as the party had first come ashore. Now that trepidation seemed unwarranted.\n\n' _You're not at the top yet, kiddo,'_ she reminded herself as her gaze happened upon the misshapen gray bulbs that hung suspended in silent mystery. The two Emercians and Emian gingerly picked their way across the narrow rock shelf. Both Emercians seemed drawn and visibly anxious, while the normally unflappable Metocan showed signs of exhaustion. His limpid eyes met Islena's and he declared, \"The Jerhia love their mountainous terrain and they are welcomed to it. I long for the gently rolling hills and drifting mists of Metocan.\"\n\n\"It's an arduous climb,\" Islena responded diplomatically, though her powerful body thrived on intense physical challenge, filling her with a vitality that her old life had only provided in the rarest of moments.\n\nAs the climb resumed, Doraux was touched by a burgeoning excitement. In that instant of clarity, she knew that everything that Ynthrax had said would prove true; Artumas did live. She could feel his presence as thought the lost king radiated a pulsing energy that reached her on the most visceral of levels. Perhaps the hinge of fate was about to turn in her favor. It was in this mood of ebullience that Islena began the final leg of the climb. Her mood was augmented as the first three hundred feet sped by in an abundance of hand holds.\n\nThat sepia glow of optimism immediately dissipated when Lorio abruptly stopped and uttered a string of vile curses.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" Doraux called up, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the source of Lorio's consternation. Lorio abruptly gestured to a point some fifty feet above her. Islena traced the gesture with her gaze and upon seeing, sagged disconsolately. A band of intrusive quartzite, perhaps two hundred feet thick, thrust its way across the face of the escarpment just above them. Its surface was as smooth as the surface of a shallow pool on a windless July afternoon. Echoing Lorio's curses, Doraux turned her head in both directions to determine that the band stretched from horizon to horizon.\n\nLorio picked her way back down to Islena and intoned somberly, \"There is no point in attempting to go further. The damnable rock is totally smooth and we will find no purchase there.\"\n\nHer tone reflected a disappointment that echoed as contrived to Doraux's ears and she glanced sharply at the taller woman. \"There must be a way.\"\n\nLorio's brow furrowed in concentration and then she glanced speculatively at Islena, an esoteric emotion shaping her expression. \"We lack the picks and hammers necessary to scale this face, but the Dragonsword may allow you to carve out hand holds and see us to the Upper lands.\"\n\nDoraux frowned. The prospect of utilizing the power still filled her with a formless dread that she could not entirely qualify, though she did suspect that her reservations were rooted in her own notions of power and responsibility. Sensing her hesitation, the Lamish woman whispered, \"Your refusal will signify the end of the quest and Myrhia's eventual victory.\"\n\nDoraux sighed and drew the back of her hand across her brow. Lorio's bleak assessment was nonetheless irrefutably correct...to go back now would be akin to capitulation. For her, capitulation was synonymous with death and she would be better served by plummeting from the rock wall and denying the enchantress her coveted prize.\n\n\"Very well, I'll use the fucking sword to cut out the hand holds,\" Doraux snorted, surprised by the degree of rancor that the notion aroused. As the others reached them, she silently unsheathed the massive sword, which now pulsed in perfect syncopation with her heartbeat. Wanting to be away from the others, she climbed to the lower edge of the quartzite, while Lorio outlined the situation to the rest of the party members.\n\nGazing down along the length of her torso, she could see that Lorio and Emian were engaged in a heated discussion. Knowing the Metocan's aversion to vulgar displays of power, she wondered if he had proposed an alternate means of surmounting this latest obstacle. She was briefly considering retreating to join the pair, when a tiny alien voice whispered from the depth of her subconscious. _'You have reached a crucial juncture in time and destiny. To turn back is to succumb to darkness.'_\n\nShe was dimly aware of her name being uttered from somewhere below her, but she elected to ignore the summons. Reversing her grip, Doraux leaned back as far as she dare, closed her eyes to commence the process that would connect her to the Jerhia collective, and then she drove the Icon into the unyielding quartzite.\n\nThe realization that she had committed a grievous error was instantaneous. The encrusted rubies blazed into life, unleashing a devastating wave of power that bore into the rock as if into living flesh. There followed a low rumble that quickly intensified into rapid oscillations. The frequency exceeded the tolerance of the brittle quartzite which exploded in a burst of white powder and sharp fragments that rained down upon the party members.\n\nArminda lost her foot hold, but Lorio snatched her tunic as quick as an adder and pulled the ashen faced Jerhia back up to solid ground. She flashed a look of pure gratitude, but Lorio was already climbing up to Islena.\n\nDoraux clung precariously onto the handholds while the Dragonsword poured forth a steady stream of power into the rapidly destabilizing rock face. Desperately, she fought to bring the puissance to heel, and when she finally succeeded, she was devastated to discover that the outburst had reduced the face to an impassable span of craters.\n\nClosing her eyes in dismay, she muttered, \"What have I done?\"\n\nHer reverie of misery was broken by a harrowing scream. Lorio's husky voice filled the air with a single word, delivered in an exigent tone that could not be ignored. Doraux need only glance down to immediately discern the source of the chaos.\n\nThe mysterious gray bulbs had begun to change, pulsing like repulsive gray hearts. To her eternal horror, she realized that the process was occurring all along the cliff face in both directions. In her hands, the Dragonsword was thrumming, imploring her to utilize its force against whatever was emerging from the cocoons. Knowing that her irresponsible use of power had aroused the recumbent threat within the bulbs, Islena was hesitant to act.\n\nThe nearest bulb abruptly erupted with a rush of noxious gas that burned both the eyes and lungs of the party members. Islena dragged her left arm across her burning eyes and squinted upwards as the first of the giant spiders scuttled toward the group. Even as screams of revulsion and horror tore from her lungs, she trained the sword upon the spider with its chitinous legs and chattering mandibles. Still braying, she focused the Icon's vermillion fury upon the horror.\n\nShe continued to scream as the spider, its armored thorax as black as anthracite, absorbed the brunt of the blast and burst apart in a rain of hot sludge. Lorio reached her then and caught her up in a tremendous bear hug. \"Compose yourself, Islena, or we will all die. A clear head is our only chance of survival.\"\n\n\"Move back down to the lower shelf,\" Lorio instructed, and Islena was surprised by the degree of composure in her voice. All about the party, the horrid gray bulbs had begun to erupt in a rush of choking gas, each unleashing another of the black spiders.\n\nDoraux turned her blade from one scrabbling monstrosity to the next, efficiently decimating the advancing ranks, while the rest of her comrades picked their way back down to the narrow shelf. The descent proved much more tedious, its difficulty compounded by the terrifying presence of the spiders.\n\n\"Too many, Goddamn it!\" Doraux bellowed as she swept the sword in an arc, its tip emitting a scythe of destruction. At first, the beasts concentrated upon Doraux, converging upon her in wave after wave that fell in fiery explosions of pure power. They came from every direction at bewildering speed in numbers that were impossible to estimate...hundreds of thousands if not millions. The escarpment's face was alive with a writhing sea of black horror, driven by a single terrible purpose that Islena had inadvertently set into motion.\n\nStill clutching her single hand hold, feet perched precariously on a narrow ledge of stone, Doraux deftly pivoted from one side to the next, unleashing death on the attackers. Quickly, she raised the Dragonsword and immolated a dozen of the giant insects as they bore down upon her from directly above. She screeched in revulsion as a black, vaporous mist covered her from head to toe.\n\nInstinct warned her to veer left and she responded without hesitation, cutting a now crimson swathe through the advancing ranks, the nearest of which was no more than thirty feet away. The creatures swung off above and below her and it became apparent that it was their intention to fully encircle their quarry.\n\nAs she reacted to this latest threat, Islena realized that her powerful body was beginning to weaken from the sustained effort of conducting such an exercise in destruction. With mounting panic, she understood that she would inevitably be overwhelmed by the sheer weight of numbers.\n\n\"You must envelop yourself in a cocoon of pure power,\" the Jerhia collective informed her. \"The expenditure of energy is far less and will allow you time to recuperate and consider your situation.\"\n\nDoraux automatically closed her eyes and extended the Dragonsword out into the void, leaning away from the rock as much as she dare. Surrendering her mind to the Jerhia collective, she soon found herself surrounded by an umbrella of impenetrable energy. Through this shimmering curtain of power, she watched as the spiders were repelled, though they did not suffer the cataclysmic destruction of a direct hit.\n\nThe five party members reached the ledge just as Doraux erected her protective umbrella.\n\n\"What is she doing?\" one of the Emercians demanded of no one in particular.\n\n\"She is abandoning us,\" Lorio intoned matter of factly, drawing a baleful glare from Arminda, whose face was twisted in obvious confusion.\n\n\"Look, damn you, she is moving to cover us,\" the Jerhia retorted.\n\nFive faces glanced up in unison to see the alien woman gingerly picking her way toward them.\n\n\"Perhaps, she's not abandoned us, but we would be well advised to fight until she can provide us with assistance,\" Lorio declared grimly while drawing her quarterstaff from over her shoulder. As if to emphasize the wisdom of her advice, the teeming mass of spiders abruptly broke off their assault on Doraux and converged directly upon the five with a bewildering speed.\n\nEmian suddenly drew Arminda to him even as she fumbled with her crossbow and bolts. \"Be still!\"\n\nArminda's ice blue eyes found his limpid gaze and something in their depths induced her to cease her struggle. Despite the urgency of his posture there was a sense of calm radiating in his eyes and she suddenly felt a surge of energy steal through her limbs which caused her exhausted muscles to tingle. A moment later, her leaden flesh began to lighten and then grow less substantial before finally fading to transparency. Astounded, Arminda glanced down at the spot that her physical body had occupied only scant seconds before...to be greeted by the improbable sight of a seemingly vacant section of rock ledge.\n\n\"By the Gods, how did...\" she exclaimed, but the Metocan's hand quickly and emphatically closed over her mouth.\n\n\"Be silent girl, the particulars are of no consequence, but the spiders could well be drawn by the sounds of your voice.\"\n\n\"Still, what of the others? We can't simply abandon them to these horrors,\" she whispered, repelled by the affront to everything her culture had instilled within her.\n\n\"We lack the means to join this fray girl. We would only be a hindrance,\" Emian argued, understanding that their actions were considered craven in Arminda's philosophy and culture of conditioned sacrifice. He felt her invisible weight settle against him and knew that she had capitulated to the wisdom of his action.\n\nAround them, the spiders hesitated in confusion, their slavering, mandibles closing fruitlessly upon air. Their hesitation lasted only a moment and then they turned their lethal attention upon the three remaining party members who huddled together against the onslaught.\n\nLorio flashed a quick glance up to the narrow ledge that cut the rock face some eight feet above where the three stood. \"I'll move up there and defend you from above. You would do well to fight back to back.\"\n\nThe two men nodded darkly and drew their rapiers, while Lorio bent at the knee and leapt upwards like a coiled spring. Easily making the vertical jump, she gripped the rock ledge with one hand and pulled herself upright. Such exhibitions vastly exceeded normal mortal capacity, but the situation did not allow time for subtlety. A part of her, the insidious implant who served Myrhia, saw that this was the perfect opportunity to dispose of the party and take Islena.\n\nTo her right, a particularly large and repulsive spider surged forward, intent upon sawing the interloper in half. In a blinding motion, Lorio pivoted and buried the killing end of her quarterstaff deep into the black polyhedron that served as the monstrosity's eye. A mewling arose that turned Arminda's blood to ice water. She gazed in horrified wonder as the Lamish woman savagely jerked the staff free, reversed her grip and brought the spatula-shaped edge down upon the beasts nearest leg. During the trek across the land of Shades, Lorio had fitted this end with a razor honed sleeve. This served her well now as it sliced through the chitinous amour plating, severing the leg and sending the beast twisting and spinning into the void.\n\nArminda wanted to fill the horrible gray sky with a chorus of frenetic applause, but Lorio had spun to confront the next threat before the kill had even disappeared from sight. She fought with a controlled fury and a natural grace that astounded the Jerhia, who wondered how one could marshal such courage in the face of the dark horror of this swarming horde.\n\nOn the ledge below, the two Jerhia attempted to match the hybrid in courage, but they fought more out of a frenzied desperation. Rapiers flashed and slashed as an ebony sea of clattering jaws and thrusting stingers bore down upon the pair. After several minutes of intense struggle, Cerindyn began to tire perceptibly, his thrusts becoming more lethargic and less effective.\n\n\"I can fight no longer!\" he cried wretchedly in a voice that was fraught with hysteria.\n\n\"You must or die,\" his comrade retorted with brutal frankness.\n\nCerindyn uttered a hoarse cry and continued to hack away, warm tears of resignation occluding his vision. A shadow fell across his face and he turned is head to see a dark silhouette race past, ascending skyward at a dizzying pace.\n\nThe momentary distraction proved to be his undoing.\n\nWith blinding speed, one of the ebony spiders darted forward and sank its mandibles deep into the exposed meat of the unfortunate Emercian's exposed thigh. The resulting cry of was white hot with agony and it followed the soldier's lost rapier down into the void. The effects of the bite were instantaneous and cataclysmic. The neurotoxin raged through the man's system like a rampant grass fire. In the blink of an eye, his body appeared to swell to twice its size as the distended skin bruised to an ugly shade of black and blue as tiny capillaries burst like cheap balloons before the poison's onslaught.\n\nThe man turned his face to the others, still alive despite the conflagration raging within his tortured flesh. His terror ravaged visage would haunt Arminda to her grave and she was actually relived when a series of violent convulsions threw him from the narrow ledge, his body writhing and twisting like a bloated sausage.\n\nHe had fallen no more than thirty feet when the spider that had inflicted the bite unleashed a stream of viscous liquid. To her mounting revulsion, the Jerhia understood that the spider had spun a web to prevent its booty of food from plummeting away. Cocooned in a glistening white sack and scarcely recognizable as human, the thrashing Emercian was slowly lifted toward his killer. The gruesome spectacle caused the Jerhia's stomach to execute a long, slow barrel roll as it appeared that she would be treated to the horror of actually witnessing the spider devour its prey.\n\nAbruptly, an intense blast of golden light severed the web and vaporized the spider and its quarry. All eyes turned to see Sormias, the Golgar, hovering in the air not thirty feet away from where the party was making its desperate stand. His wings beat slowly and gracefully, but his angelic face appeared to glower, though it was not possible to interpret the alien creature's expression.\n\nSweeping his lethal gaze over the advancing rank of spiders, he quickly incinerated hundreds of the massive beasts, allowing him a moment to dart in and sweep the surviving Emercian from the cliff face. A powerful flap of wings and he was suddenly ascending, still meting out fiery death to the ebony sea. Despite the devastation of their ranks, the horrors were undeterred by the slaughter as they glided forward with an implacable purpose, called forth by some mysterious imperative that even death could not dissuade.\n\nDrawing even with Islena, the Golgar roared, \"You must drop your shield and protect the others while I convey each to the safety of the upper lands!\"\n\nDoraux nodded and let the shield slip. Repositioning herself, she coolly began to unleash blazing bolts of vermillion fury, gouging out huge chunks of granite and sending hundreds of spiders to their deaths,\n\nPerhaps sensing that their quarry might actually escape, the spiders quickly changed tactics, spinning forth large streamers of adhesive goop in an effort to immobilize both Lorio and Doraux. Lorio expertly spun her staff so that the razor edge sliced through the web, while Islena merely melted the semi liquid strands with a mere flexing of will. Still, the concerted effort made it difficult to take the offensive and the spiders quickly began to encircle the remaining four.\n\nSormias reappeared and swooped toward Lorio, who swiveled the killing end of her staff to point at his chest. The deadly tip grazed his chest as he regarded her with genuine dismay. Dark eyes gleaming with the excitement of the fray, she growled, \"Take the Jerhia and the Metocan. I am capable of defending myself.\"\n\nThe Golgar was confused until Arminda and Emian materialized before him as though out of thin air. Grasping that the pair had no active means of defense, he immediately lifted the two from the narrow ledge. As he rose effortlessly, he unleashed another blast which had the horrors scrambling away from the pair of women who would be the last to be lifted to safety.\n\nEver persistent, the spiders resumed their attack a brief instant later, swarming forward like a living juggernaut. Doraux unleashed a wave of power that far exceeded anything that she had thus far dared to expend. A vast section of the rock face to her immediate left pulverized, filling the life sky with a cloud of black dust. When the dust had settled, a huge divot separated Lorio and Doraux from the spiders on that side. Rapidly, she pivoted and repeated the process, opening another gulf on her right.\n\nLorio stole a brief glance in Islena's direction, a tacit nod signifying her admiring approval. Then she turned away and began to hack away at the horde of spiders which had survived the rock burst. Watching her, Islena was amazed by the fluid efficacy with which Lorio dispatched the beasts.\n\n' _She displays no hint of fear, no concern that she might be stung,'_ Islena marveled, wrongly attributing her cavalier disregard for the danger to a sense of fatalism. It suddenly occurred to her that this woman who fought like a demon was pregnant.\n\n\"Lorio, when Sormias returns, you must go next,\" Islena ordered.\n\nThe Lamish beauty quickly flicked her glance skyward and adamantly shook her head. \"The hinge of fate is to turn upon you. You must be the next to go.\"\n\nJust then, the Golgar returned, hovering in the air like a guardian angel. Islena saw that the spiders had spun webs and were rapidly fording the chasm that she had blasted into the rock. \"Take Lorio next,\" she instructed the creature. To Lorio, she threatened, \"Go, or I'll blast us both into the void.\"\n\nGlowering, Lorio considered the other woman for a moment and seeing that her threat was genuine, shrugged and allowed the flying creature to enfold her in his arms and bear her upward. Glancing downward, she caught a final glance of the chosen one as she incinerated another wave of the repulsive tormentors.\n\nSormias gently deposited Lorio near the spot where the others had assembled before spiraling upward and plunging back down to pluck the enigmatic sword wielder from the rock face. Despite the phenomenal outpouring of power, the beasts had managed to press in upon the solitary woman. The Golgar hovered in the air long enough to decimate the front ranks and then he swept toward Doraux, his wings beating like the sails of a majestic galleon.\n\nIslena extended her left arm toward Sormias, who caught it firmly and lifted her from the gore slicked ledge. Before she could be drawn clear, a particularly swift beast ducked under the Dragonsword's vermillion power and drove its mandibles deep into the muscle of her right calf, pouring a huge quantity of poison into Doraux's racing blood stream.\n\nThe result was immediate and utterly terrifying. The spider exploded as the vermillion power suffused its vile body. Its poison raged through the chosen one like a rampant infection, prompting her to shriek in agony and abhorrence.\n\nThe intermingling of the virulent poison and the Dragonsword's power was catastrophic. Islena's body jerked and convulsed wildly, though the Icon spared her the gruesome death that had befallen the Emercian. The titanic collision of forces ripped through her iron flesh and reverberated through the Golgar. Stunned by the savage fury, Sormias lost his hold upon Islena and both went spinning toward the base of the cliff.\n\nRevived by his own immense power, the Golgar quickly recovered his senses and rocketed toward Doraux, intercepting her a mere fifty feet from the ground and certain death. Still shaken, he landed at the base of the cliff, where he laid Doraux heavily upon the ground before collapsing himself.\n\nWhen the strange vortex of forces swirling through his body had subsided somewhat, he crossed over to where Islena lay, relieved to see that she was still alive.\n\nThat was the only positive thing that could be said for her condition. Her respiration came in rapid shallow gasps and her eyes had rolled back in her head, revealing dull white corneas. Her color was flushed and perspiration rolled in oily rivers over her brow. Her entire body shook from the intensity of the violent battle that was being wage within the fleshy confines.\n\nAs disturbing as this was, it was not Doraux's intense suffering which drew and held Sormias' gaze like a portal into the very depths of hell. The exotic golden eyes were fastened upon the Dragonsword, which was held in the tetanus vice of Islena's right hand.\n\nThe rubies on the haft had begun to glow in alternating waves of claret red and depthless black.\n\nChapter Three\n\n1\n\nThe party huddled about the prone form of Islena Doraux as Emian attempted to assess the seriousness of both her wound and overall condition. As his knowledgeable fingers gingerly probed her flesh, her muscular body trembled wildly, the limbs bunching into knots and then falling slack. The others regarded these developments with breathless consternation, each realizing that the fate of their world hung suspended by the tenuous thread of this alien woman's life. The spider's mandibles had left two deep punctures in the belly of Islena's diamond hard muscle. The heat of the infection radiated from the wound in palpable waves like the stench of a fetid swamp. Deep red pools winked from the depths of the wound like malevolent eyes.\n\nAfter a protracted moment of extreme tension, the Metocan sat back on his haunches and declared, \"She is seriously ill, but I think that she will live.\"\n\nThe party breathed a collective sigh of relief and demanded in unison, \"Why did she not simply die as Cerindyn did?\"\n\n\"The spider's venom was attenuated by the power of the Dragonsword,\" Emian remarked with a hint of irritation. \"Though her flesh is ravaged by the conflict between the two forces, the poison's effect has been drastically reduced.\"\n\n\"Will she recover?\" Arminda asked, her voice fraught with anxiety. She found it nearly impossible to drag her gaze from the lovely face of the alien woman whom she had come to respect.\n\nThe Metocan shrugged helplessly. \"It is impossible to forecast. She has the constitution of a bull, but she is deep in the thrall of the poison.\"\n\nWith this gloomy declaration, a pall of pessimism settled over the group. Emian pulled his bag over his shoulder and set it on a stone next to Doraux. Then he set about mixing a poultice to prevent sepsis. He could clearly sense the spider's venom laying assault to Islena's nervous system, but went to great lengths to conceal his dismay from the rest of the party.\n\nHe glanced up to see Lorio gazing fixedly down upon Doraux, her eyes aglow with an emotion that could have been either intense hatred or profound love. She became aware of his scrutiny, scowled back and then shifted her gaze to the heavens.\n\nArminda laid a palm upon Doraux's brow, surprised by the degree of heat she encountered there. The woman was consumed by fever and the Jerhia feared the Emian had been premature in his prediction that Islena would live.\n\n\"Your return was most timely, Sormias,\" she heard herself remark distantly.\n\n\"Indeed,\" the Golgar responded, his voice jovial. \"It seems that I was remiss in not alerting you to the menace that this precipice represents.\"\n\n\"You knew of the spiders?\" the Jerhia demanded incredulously, her eyes jerking up to meet the Golgar's placid gaze.\n\n\"Of course. The mysterious creator of this esoteric place has employed the monsters as guardians of the path, though his specific intention in doing so is beyond my comprehension,\" Sormias replied with a perplexed shrug.\n\n\"Why did you not admonish us regarding the danger that we might encounter?\" the Jerhia questioned tightly.\n\nBefore he could reply, Sormias found the lethal point of Lorio's quarterstaff pressed into the hollow just above his sternum. She glowered at the alien creature who met her hostility with total calm. \"He did not tell us of the menace because he hoped that we would become its victims. You will tell me what it is you want? Why are you here?\"\n\n\"This will not do, Lorio,\" Emian declared severely, fearing that the woman's impetuousness would already exacerbate a delicate situation. He had recently come to wonder if it was not her intention to sabotage the quest. \"Squabbling amongst ourselves will do nothing to improve matters.\"\n\n\"Ah, but her inquiry is valid enough,\" the Golgar interrupted, holding up his left hand in a gesture of placation. His voice rang with mirth despite being menaced by the belligerent hybrid. \"It was a foolish error not to apprise you of the guardians of the wall, but you must realize that I am ignorant in the various limitations that your life form must endure. You seem exceedingly frail and yet possess the courage of an immortal. It is difficult for me to conceive what it must be like to lack the capacity of flight, to be bound to the earth as it were. What an intolerable disability that must be.\"\n\nHe paused as if to consider the plight of human limitations. \"At any rate, I did not think it possible that you would reach the base of the wall in such short order. Nor did I anticipate that the search for your lost comrade would be so protracted.\"\n\n\"Then you've found Gillian?\" Arminda exclaimed gleefully, her spirits momentarily soaring at the prospect of finding company in one of her own kind. With Doraux apparently disabled, the party would require a stalwart leader to assume directorship of the quest. In that moment, she experienced a brief rekindling of hope, only to find it dashed when the Golgar responded, \"After a fashion.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Arminda prompted anxiously.\n\n\"There will be time enough to deal with the matter of the Jerhia!\" Lorio exclaimed impatiently. \"First this creature will declare his intention and then we will decide if he will be allowed to remain with us.\" She punctuated this by jabbing the quarterstaff into his chest.\n\nThe creature's eyes narrowed, his angelic face shaping into an unfathomable expression. When he spoke, Emian thought that he could detect the nascent stirring of anger in his tone. \"I wish only to observe your actions. Quite frankly, your species fills me with an insatiable curiosity. You are weak and yet you hide behind a facade of aggression and bravado. You are convinced that yours is the chosen race and yet remain grossly ignorant of the universe about you. You are laughably foolish and yet you are compelled to venture forth and confront the unknown. I am amused by this noble venture. It distracts me from the monotony of this place.\"\n\nAbruptly, he gripped the quarterstaff and wrenched it forward, impaling himself on the lethal tip. Nonplussed, Lorio stared at the flesh where the weapon had entered and saw that no vital fluid issued forth, nor was there any other hint of trauma on the flawless golden skin. The Golgar's grin broadened into something frightening and feral. \"You, personally, are a vain, impudent woman, desperately lacking any sense of civility.\"\n\nTwin beams of amber leapt from his eyes, catching Lorio full in the chest and propelling her back twenty feet through the air. She landed in a sprawl, but immediately attempted to rise, only to find that her body was heavy and pain racked. The Golgar took to the air and hovering above the prone hybrid, warned, \"I am normally a patient sort, but my tolerance has limits. I have been benevolent, but that can quickly change.\"\n\nArminda's instant reaction to Sormias' attack upon Lorio was one of intense satisfaction, recalling how she, herself, had been humiliated at the Lamish bitch's less than tender hands. Yet, in the next moment, she bound forward and threw herself onto Lorio, shielding her from the Golgar. \"Please, Sormias, if she has given offense...if we have given offense, for this we are deeply sorry. As you say, she is impetuous and often harsh, but she is also courageous and we need her desperately...just as we need you. Let there be no further discord between us.\"\n\nAs Sormias hovered, the rage could clearly be seen evaporating from his face, replaced by his customary expression of almost child like placidity. \"I fear that my isolation has made me surly. If I have caused your friend pain, then it is I who has given offense. The matter is forgotten. For one so young, you are most prudent.\"\n\nWith this, he came to land near the fallen Doraux as Arminda breathed a sigh of relief. The she moved her mouth closer to Lorio's ear and whispered, \"I have repaid the debt that stood between us, witch. If you ever display such flagrant rancor again, I will encourage him to squash you like a bug.\"\n\nThe two women locked stares and Lorio snarled, \"As you would have it, bitch. I need no protection from a crippled Halfling.\"\n\nWith this, she easily shrugged Arminda off and rose on unsteady legs. Retrieving her staff, she stalked past Sormias, who grinned benignly and then shrugged. Watching the Golgar, Arminda discerned a child like aspect to his nature. In combination with his awesome power, this made the Golgar a volatile and unpredictable commodity. It was imperative that he and Lorio be kept as far apart as possible. Sighing, she rose and approached Sormias, sparing a brief glance for the still unconscious Islena.\n\nElecting to be blunt, she demanded, \"Sormias, earlier you mentioned locating Gillian...was he dead?\"\n\nHe looked up as though shocked by the notion. \"No, he is alive and is here.\"\n\nSpreading his wings, he rose and flew over the rise which led to the Upper lands. Moments later, he returned carrying the Jerhia master swordsman. Arminda's relief turned to bitter disappointment the instant she set eyes upon his slack jawed face. Before her stood the man who had maimed her, but she could only feet intense pity for him. He stared vacantly into the far distance and she heard herself ask, \"What has happened to him?\"\n\n\"When the demons that have infected him sensed that he had failed to gain possession of the sword, they simply abandoned him. I found him wandering aimlessly in the jungle. The possession was traumatic and he is still stupefied.\"\n\n\"Will he regain his faculties?\" she asked hopefully.\n\n\"Who is to say?\" Sormias replied, appearing obdurate in his inability to grasp human emotion. Gillian's empty gaze happened upon Arminda, but registered no hint of recognition. _'How far our race has fallen,' Arminda thought despondently. 'While our army hides beneath a mountain and behind a river, our Nation's fate is represented by a cripple and a zombie.'_\n\n\"I will care for him. Thank you for returning him to us, Sormias. Without your help, he...we all would have perished.\"\n\nSormias' smile became brilliant. \"It is I who is pleased to be of service. I will offer what aid I can, Milady.\"\n\nArminda colored to crimson and averted her face. Never had she been addressed in such a regal and lofty manner. Absently, she stammered, \"Unless Islena recovers there will be nothing left to serve.\"\n\nSensing the gravity of the situation, at least in an abstract sense, Sormias nodded solemnly and resumed his study of the fallen Doraux.\n\n2\n\n\"Might we have a word?\" Emian inquired from over her shoulder, prompting Arminda to turn from her scrutiny of the eastern horizon and the grim flatlands over which the party had recently struggled.\n\nShe turned to face the Metocan, taking a private solace in the comfort and tranquility that his presence aroused in her. \"Of course.\"\n\nHe gestured for her to proceed and they walked a short distance away from the campfire. Night had descended upon the Upper Lands, plunging it into deep shadows. They both sat on the sandy rise and gazed out into the void. Neither spoke for a long moment and then Emian remarked, \"The quest for Artumas has gone drastically awry.\"\n\nArminda merely nodded her concurrence. After a moment's hesitation, she asked, \"Would it be wise to turn back, in light of Islena's condition and the discord that exists between some of the party members?\"\n\n\"To abandon the quest is to abandon hope, Arminda,\" Emian replied softly. \"Hope is the only thing that we have not forfeited to the enchantress.\"\n\n\"Has Islena regained consciousness?\" she inquired without much hope.\n\n\"No.\" Emian delivered this tacit report in a grim tone that conveyed some deeper concern.\n\n\"Do you fear that she may not?\"\n\n\"Her body is strong, perhaps invincible. It has been fortified by the collective consciousness of your ancestors. I would guess that the poison will not kill her.\"\n\n\"And yet I sense a profound anxiety in your speech and posture,\" the Jerhia observed pointedly.\n\n\"Indeed,\" Emian responded with uncharacteristic pessimism. \"My acuity informs me that the alien's body is not the target of the attack, rather it is her psyche...her consciousness.\"\n\n\"Are you suggesting that it intends to control her mind?\" The Metocan merely nodded and Arminda expelled a nervous breath. \"If Islena is corrupted and now possesses the power of the Jerhia Icon, she will become as dangerous as Myrhia herself.\"\n\n\"Precisely. It is not inconceivable that this was the enchantress' intention from the first. Myrhia possesses oracular abilities that we cannot begin to grasp. Perchance, she foresaw all that has come to pass during the course of this quest.\"\n\nArminda was stunned to silence, staggered by the ramifications of what the Metocan had just related. \"What are we to do?\"\n\n\"Be patient. Wait until she has regained consciousness and assess the changes that have overcome her...if any. In the meantime, we will lose nothing by forging westward...which brings me to the point of this conversation. With Islena's infirmity, the party is without leadership. If coherence is to be maintained, the group must take direction from one person...until Islena is fit to resume that mantle.\"\n\nMisconstruing his intention, Arminda quickly interrupted, \"I will support your leadership, Emian. I declare your wisdom to be the most valuable asset that this party possesses.\"\n\nThe Metocan extended a long fingered hand and laid it upon the Jerhia's injured shoulder. \"If this quest was bound through a metaphysical dimension, leadership would naturally fall to me, but ours is a trek through the tangible world with all of the pitfalls and hazards that such a journey might conjure. This role is best undertaken by a military mind...one that is disciplined and analytical. Leadership of the party must fall to you, Arminda.\"\n\nNonplussed, the Jerhia stammered, \"No, that is ridiculous...it is impossible.\" Glaring at her useless left arm, she insisted, \"I am the least worthy...a...cripple.\"\n\nEmian shook his head adamantly. \"Gillian is ambulatory, but nothing more. The Emercian is broken by despair and guilt. Sormias is alien beyond our comprehension and he views our plight as a sort of amusing diversion. Lorio is a hieroglyph, fraught with dark riddles. You are a remarkable woman of courage, tenacity and intellect. The mantle of leadership must be yours.\"\n\nArminda's thoughts reeled. She was a soldier. Her realities were founded upon her crossbow, her unerring eye and a strict obedience to her superiors. Even at her young age, she was one of the Jerhia's most accomplished archers. Yet the notion that she would lead was fatuous, especially in light of the paramount importance of the quest. The fate of her world quite literally hung in the balance. No, Emian's proposal was thoroughly ludicrous. Jerhia women were inculcated with the maxim that women could attain proficiency in specific areas such as archery, but the direction of the culture and country were the exclusive affairs of men. She attempted to convey some of this to the Metocan.\n\n\"Arminda, our cultures are ancient, but this does not preclude the possibility that they are seriously flawed as well. Even if we should manage to vanquish Myrhia, many of the old ways will become traditions of the past: Jerhia invincibility, Metocan mystique and Natzurdan innocence. One need only look to the example of Islena...she is a female and the burden of saving our world has fallen to her.\"\n\n\"The others will never follow my leadership. To lead one must have respect of those who follow,\" she insisted almost desperately.\n\n\"The Emercian has promised to heed you without question. Sormias has insisted that he will provide what help he may.\"\n\n\"And Lorio, she regards me with contempt and disdain. She would scoff at the mere suggestion that I lead this quest.\"\n\n\"Then it must be your first order of business to convince her that her contempt is ill founded.\"\n\nArminda did not reply for several moments and then admitted, \"She frightens me, Emian. She is so strong, so implacably confident. She can reduce me to tears with a stare.\"\n\n\"Go to her. If you can surmount that fear, you will prove to her that you are worthy,\" the Metocan prompted gently.\n\nArminda sighed, seeing that he did not intend to relent until she acquiesced to his demand.\n\n\"If I am to confront her, it must be now, while I have the courage. Emian, I will need your council.\" There was a pleading glint in her eyes that he could not deny.\n\n\"Rest assured that you shall have it,\" the Metocan vowed warmly. The Jerhia rose and was about to set off when he remarked, \"Despite her iron exterior, Lorio is still human. She is with child.\"\n\nArminda paused, gaping at the Metocan as though he had suddenly grown a second head. \"Pregnant? You are saying that she is pregnant?\"\n\nEmian nodded slowly. \"That is not possible, Emian. She could not have endured the rigors of the journey if she was with child.\"\n\n\"Nonetheless, it is true.\"\n\nShe recalled how Sormias had struck the woman and the glee which she had felt at seeing the Lamish beauty so humbled. The recollection invoked at shiver of shame and self loathing.\n\n\"Is there no bottom to this sea of degradation into which we have fallen?\" she inquired wretchedly. When Emian did not respond, Arminda went off in search of Lorio.\n\n3\n\nFor Arminda, the prospect of facing the enigmatic Lorio was perhaps the most daunting personal challenge that she had ever undertaken. She crossed the darkened slope, pausing to listen to a blood chilling cry that arose from somewhere beyond the rise.\n\n' _What challenges are there yet to be faced in this alien world,'_ she wondered, not certain that she would be adequate to their demands. Shaking her head in consternation, she pushed the thought away, knowing that what lay immediately ahead was challenge enough.\n\nShe drew a deep breath and headed directly toward the campfire, already sensing the weight of the burden that the Metocan had imposed upon her as it began to settle onto her shoulders. Her Jerhia heritage declared that this should be a moment of pride and achievement. Had she not ascended to a starring role in the greatest drama of the age? Still, her heart quailed with fears of inadequacy and failure.\n\nShe paused just beyond the circle of flickering light, her heart wrenching at the sight of the stricken Doraux. Perspiration slicked her smooth brow as her powerful body was assailed by one wave of pain after the other. It occurred to the Jerhia that the one hope of the world now suffered under the merciless attack of the venom.\n\nBeside her sat the vigilant Lorio, her face impassive as she watched Islena labor through her long hours of torment.\n\n' _What do you see and feel?'_ Arminda demanded silently, though a part of her dreaded the answer. Gathering herself, she strode purposefully into the light. In a somber tone, she inquired \"How does she fare?\"\n\nLorio cast the girl a sideways glance and shrugged, \"Only time will yield that answer.\"\n\n' _She's determined to make this difficult,'_ Arminda sighed. _'Be forward. It's the only approach that she'll appreciate.'_\n\n\"I've come to discuss the course that the quest will follow from this point forward,\" Arminda announced, attempting to sound as resolute as she could manage.\n\nLorio gestured for the other woman to sit, an amused grin playing at the corners of her lips. \"So the brain trust has arrived at a course of action.\"\n\n\"Actually we have. It has been suggested that I assume leadership while Islena is infirmed. I've come to seek your approval.\"\n\nThe expression of muted amusement vanished, replaced by one of frightening intensity. \"I care nothing of this inane quest, with its misguided chivalry and ill defined objectives. Islena is my solitary concern. As to your leadership, I am indifferent.\"\n\nArminda was taken aback by Lorio's vehement denunciation of the quest. \"You heap derision upon our efforts and yet you have repeatedly gambled your life on our behalf.\"\n\n\"You are truly blind,\" Lorio sneered derisively. \"To excel as a leader, one must understand those whom she or he would presume to lead. All that I have risked has been strictly for Islena. She sees this journey to locate the flawed king as the last vestige of hope for a condemned world and I will not be the one to disabuse her of that illusion.\"\n\n\"Why do you believe that the quest is flawed...condemned as you put it?\" Arminda demanded indignantly, aggravated by the Lamish woman's smug certainty that all of their efforts were futile.\n\nLorio directed her gaze toward Arminda, fixing the girl with an appraising stare as though attempting to gauge the other's ability to absorb the truth. \"The search for Artumas was conceived and undertaken out of sheer desperation. Is it not obvious that no consideration has been given to what shall be done even if we manage to locate the once great king? It is almost as if the allies believe that Artumas is an Icon in and of himself, able to dispatch Myrhia through his mere presence. That very fact that he is exiled belies that nonsense.\"\n\nThe intrinsic truth of this bloomed in Arminda's mind like a vile blossom of doubt that would not be easily uprooted. The Lamish woman discerned the Jerhia's dawning disquiet and allowed herself a moment of private satisfaction. _'Another step in undermining this fatuous quest; a leader belittled by doubt.'_\n\n\"Even if we were to locate Artumas and convince him to return to fight the scourge that he unwittingly unleashed, how are we to proceed from that point?\"\n\n\"It has always been our intention to seek the two remaining Proclamations,\" Arminda returned.\n\nLorio snorted her derision, skewering the Jerhia with a sense of inadequacy. \"Has it not occurred to you that the western continent is occupied by the enchantress' army, not to mention the other abominations that we have freed upon the world? Is it not impractical to assume that we would be at liberty to conduct a search under these circumstances?\"\n\nArminda trembled, stunned by the magnitude of this oversight. With a certain churlish delight, Lorio persisted, \"And then there is the matter of the actual geographic locations of the Icons. It is entirely possible that the Natzurdan staff has been concealed within the borders of that country. Defying odds, we might actually locate the staff, but what of the Metocan orb? By diverting the Hiberas, we have denied ourselves access to the last Proclamation, without which Islena's ascension will not be complete.\"\n\n\"The Hiberas has been diverted once and can be diverted again,\" Arminda observed coolly. Lorio shook her head. \"Not without the aid of the Natzurdan. They are gone and it is possible that the Mother has abandoned her jewel to the hordes.\"\n\nMorosely, the Jerhia inquired, \"Why did you not list this catalogue of pessimism before now?\"\n\nAlmost lithely, the hybrid remarked, \"My opinion was not solicited and thus I did not offer it. What's more, my only concern lies in protecting Islena.\"\n\n' _Protecting Islena?'_ Arminda thought. _'It is as though she doesn't realize that protecting Islena and keeping her out of Myrhia's clutches are one and the same.'_\n\nArminda cursed in a rare expression of frustration for a girl constrained against displays of emotion. \"Then you think that everything we do is pointless?\"\n\n\"That is very likely, but it is better to fight against one's eventual destruction than it is to accept it meekly. There is always the remote chance that fate will smile upon this adventure.\"\n\n\"You really don't believe that.\"\n\nLorio shrugged indifferently. \"Perhaps not. Myrhia appears virtually invincible, but she has committed at least one error in judgment.\" Shifting her gaze to the prone Islena, she concluded, \"Speculation on the many possible courses of fate serves no purpose until this woman regains consciousness.\"\n\nThe Jerhia could sense black despair capering in every shadow, but refused to succumb to its bleak allure. \"Lorio, I admit that I am not the most qualified to lead us into the forest. I need your council. You are acquainted with Islena more thoroughly than any of us. I need you to observe her closely and keep us apprised of any changes that might follow from the spider's kiss.\"\n\n\"Should she awaken horribly altered, what measures will you take to insure that she does not evolve into a greater threat than the enchantress?\" Lorio demanded in a glacially harsh tone.\n\nArminda averted her gaze to the fire, seeing that grim eventuality flicker in the flames. \"That prospect terrifies me to the deepest fiber of my being and I cannot provide an answer as I simply do not know myself.\"\n\nLorio simply nodded and allowed the matter to pass. \"I will observe Islena.\"\n\nArminda abruptly bent forward and closed her hand about the hybrid's wrist. Lorio stiffened, but managed to subjugate the urge to pull away from the unsolicited display of affection. The Jerhia's voice quavered ever so slightly when she whispered, \"Thank you, Lorio.\"\n\nShe rose to leave before her rampant emotions betrayed her. With her face averted, Lorio whispered, \"You must fortify yourself against the very real possibility that it may become necessary to kill Islena.\"\n\nThe statement had been delivered in a cold, dispassionate voice and yet the woman had bent forward and was gently caressing Doraux's smooth brow.\n\n' _Gods, please don't let it come to that!'_ Arminda implored the heavens silently. Something more seemed required in response and the Jerhia felt compelled to shrug off the rigid restrictions of her character. She understood that if she was to succeed in the task of leadership, it would be imperative that she reach some manner of understanding...of empathy with the enigmatic Lamish woman.\n\n\"Lorio, I know that our relationship has left much to be desired and that you may not exactly respect me as a warrior...or a woman\" The Lamish beauty regarded the Jerhia impassively, increasing Arminda's discomfort. Still, she summoned the courage to plunge ahead. \"Emian informs me that you are with child.\"\n\nLorio stood abruptly, her eyes ablaze. \"What of it? The pregnancy will not hinder our progress.\"\n\nThe Jerhia ventured nearer and knelt beside the taller woman, whose rigid posture hinted at imminent violence. \"I never meant to suggest otherwise. Lorio, can you not accept the possibility that my inquiry might not be motivated by genuine concern...compassion? I am not your enemy. If the truth be known, I admire your unflagging strength and courage.\"\n\nLorio shifted her gaze so as to disguise the profound affect of the Jerhia's admission. \"Your admiration is misplaced. You know nothing of whom or what I am.\"\n\n\"Admittedly, but I recognize devotion. Your loyalty toward Islena is admirable. The child is well?\"\n\nThe hybrid glanced down at her still flat abdomen. Contemplation of the child growing inside of her filled Lorio with apprehension that was palpable. She had been told that a mother's empathy with her unborn child was an unparalleled experience. For her, the growing fetus was a void in the depth of her being. She could sense nothing, though physically she was aware of something developing within. _'You have no soul. Empathy requires this as a prerequisite for feelings,'_ she chided herself. Wishing to convey none of this inner turmoil, she replied tersely, \"Yes.\"\n\nArminda smiled kindly. \"The world has degenerated into a mire of madness and iniquity. There is very little cause for optimism. That a woman of your stature could bring a life into the world provides an ailing civilization with a glimmer of hope. Your child is a precious cargo, Lorio. Keep it safe.\"\n\nTo her utter shock and dismay, Lorio's subjugated humanity reasserted itself in a deluge of emotion. Along with the flood of tears came the recollection of her father's betrayal and the hideous torture that followed. Arminda regarded the dark beauty's outburst with alarm. Hesitantly, she drew the taller woman to her, holding her until the convulsive sobs subsided. When Lorio finally pushed the Jerhia brusquely away, her dark eyes glinted like shards of obsidian. The last vestiges of humanity had been purged with her tears and it was clear to her that she could now go forward with Myrhia's mandate without compunction.\n\n\"Concern yourself with playing at leadership and leave the matter of motherhood to me,\" she growled. Dejected by what she regarded as an opportunity lost, Arminda nodded and silently left Lorio to her vigil, certain that she had failed the first test of leadership.\n\n4\n\nSomewhere on the periphery of her consciousness, Islena was vaguely aware of the faint flow of conversation...grave whispers of voices that were at once familiar and yet alien. Just as she could hear the speakers, she was also cognizant of the proximity of fire and warmth.\n\nStill, these things seemed impossibly distant as though she were experiencing them vicariously or perhaps imagining them altogether. All things external seemed impossibly remote and of little consequence.\n\nDespite the proximity of the others, she seemed hopelessly alone.\n\n' _No, not quite alone, Islena,'_ A voice corrected, its timber deep and textured by a multiplicity of layers. _'There is something else here now, something very dangerous.'_\n\nShe opened her eyes (though, in truth, Islena Doraux remained unmoving as the dead) and gazed blinkingly about. The world was utterly black, ensconced in a profound darkness. She, alone, was the solitary point of light. The disembodied messenger had spoken the truth...she was not the sole occupant of this infernal void. From the corner of her eye, Islena could detect furtive movement. A shifting of shadow, so subtle as to be almost imperceptible, was the only physical indication of the other's presence.\n\nInstinctively, Islena discerned the other was a sentient and ineffably malign being. _'It is your soul that it craves, Islena,'_ the collective of voices warned her. _'By all that is sacred, it must not have it.'_\n\nNow Doraux could feel its proximity, its heat and smell upon her naked flesh. She squirmed as its vile serpent's tongue stroked her womanhood, attempting to insinuate itself into the core of her being. Shuddering with revulsion, she drove back her would be seducer with an argent eruption of light.\n\nUnder the vigilant eye of the hybrid, Islena's entire body stiffened, her iron muscles standing out in bass relief. Lorio glanced about, relieved to see that the others were engaged in their mindless activities. The meddlesome bitch Jerhia was off pretending to lead her band of fools. Abruptly, the smaller woman's body went limp and she settled back into fitful unconsciousness.\n\nLorio cracked an insidious grin, sensing the essence of Islena's grim struggle.\n\n' _Had the shrewd witch queen foresaw all of this?'_ she wondered with amusement. The Queen's power of divination was without rival. Could it be that Doraux's flight into the Land of Shades had been carefully orchestrated from the outset? If so, what Lorio had once perceived to be a blind gamble of faith had now become a clever gambit.\n\nAll of these things flashed behind her inscrutable eyes as she kept watch over the woman who was at once her mortal enemy and her most passionate love. She did not bother to contemplate this dichotomy, just as she did not engage in consideration of the paradox of her own existence. Her sole preoccupation was for the woman before her. Soon she would have to traverse the astral tether to apprise Myrhia of all that had come to pass.\n\nUntil then, she would simply watch.\n\nChapter Four\n\n1\n\nInos stood on the great stone balcony; leaning on the smooth balustrade and gazing pensively out over the mist shrouded city of Othgol. Until recently, this had been considered his world's center of esoteric knowledge and mystery. As the mist thickened and dappled, he thought, _'Now it has become a requiem for the vanquished.'_\n\nA selfish part of him was grateful that his beloved Metocan had escaped the debasing indignity of occupation; a fate which the other two Cornerstone Nations had not been so fortunate to avoid.\n\nHe closed his limpid eyes and turned his head skyward, feeling the pervasive mist playing upon his translucent flesh. _'So quickly we have declined. So much we have lost. And to think that all of this has been brought to pass by one woman and her pernicious evil...except, she is not simple woman any more than the orb of Metocan is merely a fragile sphere of glass.'_\n\nThis last thought was punctuated by the report of iron and steel ringing from somewhere below. He shifted his gaze to the sprawling courtyard, where Jerhia legions occupied their time performing intricate drills and maneuvers. He watched them perform, feeling more despondent than ever. Their exercises were almost piteous in light of the thorough and humiliating defeat that their once invincible army had so recently suffered at the hands of Myrhia's Morticants.\n\nStill, it was living nature to cling tenaciously to the remnants of the past, irrespective of how tattered and absurd those remnants had become.\n\nJust then, a bell resounded throughout the Metocan sage's inner chamber, declaring that a visitor had arrived at his antechamber. The Metocan inhaled sharply, reluctant to heed the unwelcome summons. He sighed and turned away from the balcony. The presence of so many foreigners had shattered the tranquility of the reclusive Metocan Capital.\n\nInos made a small gesture with his right hand and the heavy stone door slid open. Maroc, the newest Jerhia Maxim Tier Marshall stepped over the threshold, his face clouded by a thousand dark shadows.\n\n\"Join me on the balcony, friend,\" Inos offered, leaning back against the stone parapet. The Jerhia strode out into the morning air, his eyes adjusting to the milky light of the Metocan day. He appeared agitated and restless.\n\nInos gestured toward the courtyard. \"Watching your legions is very much like watching a well choreographed, yet deadly ballet.\"\n\n\"A meaningless diversion,\" Maroc muttered dismissively, informing the Metocan that his mood was most foul indeed.\n\n\"Does your moroseness spring from a specific source, my friend?\" the Metocan inquired forwardly.\n\nThe Tier Marshall glanced sharply at the other man and then sighed. \"It has been only five weeks since the diversion of the Hiberas and yet it seems as though an eternity has passed.\"\n\n\"Exile is not an easy thing to suffer,\" Inos allowed, \"especially for men of action.\"\n\n\"This is true,\" Maroc agreed, listening to the volley of crisp commands being delivered in the square below. \"Yet of late, I have begun to think that our diversion of the Hiberas was a grave mistake\"\n\nInos stared at the Jerhia, genuinely surprised by the remark. Maroc became aware of the other man's scrutiny and explained, \"We have been relegated to the role of bystanders while the greatest drama in history is being played out on the other side of that damnable river.\"\n\nThe Metocan nodded, commiserating with the Jerhia's frustration. \"This is the role that fate has provided for our Nations...perhaps in punishment for our arrogance. Who would ever have anticipated that we would sit idly by while two women, both strangers to our world, would engage in an epic struggle to decide our collective fate?\"\n\nMaroc considered this in thoughtful silence, while Inos looked out across his mystical city. \"My dear Jerhia friend, for millennia the Cornerstone Nations held dear the notion that they were the shapers of destiny, the forgers of this world. The ancient prophecies predicted where this monumental arrogance would lead, but we were too enamored of our own supremacy to heed that warning. Morzhian, Ossiran and I were the last great perpetrators of that fraud. I have been left alone to witness the closing act of that charade.\"\n\n\"I would not have expected such pessimism from a Metocan Sage,\" the Jerhia murmured, clearly nonplussed.\n\n\"Had we not diverted the Hiberas, Myrhia would have crushed us as surely as night occludes day,\" Inos observed. \"Honestly, we lack the means with which to give opposition to the enchantress. As loath as we are to admit it, our fate lies in the hands of Islena Doraux and her search for the lost king.\"\n\nMaroc nodded, though his displeasure with the notion was glaringly obvious. Helplessness was a condition that was far worse than death in the eyes of this warrior. Wishing to veer away from the general desolation of their present situation, the Jerhia began to discuss specifics. \"Riders have returned from the border...the Hiberas, I should amend. The river has not been breeched. As was the case with its original location, it is not possible to discern anything of the opposite bank through the swirling mists.\"\n\nHaving expected as much, Inos merely grunted. \"It seems that our gambit has succeeded...for the time being.\"\n\n\"Do you really expect that Myrhia will contrive a way to ford the river?\" Maroc demanded, chilled by the notion.\n\nInos shrugged. \"Who is to say? We would be prudent to suspect that nothing is beyond the limit of her power. I would imagine that she is preoccupied by thoughts other than an invasion of Metocan. Remember, diverting the Hiberas also saved the enchantress the need to concern herself with exterminating us...allowing her to focus exclusively on locating Islena.\"\n\n\"If she hasn't done so already,\" Maroc commented, causing the Metocan to grimace by giving voice to his greatest fear.\n\nPushing this grim thought from his mind, Inos remarked, \"I surmise that Myrhia will not concern herself with us...unless she comes to suspect that the staff or the orb is concealed on this side of the river. Even then, there would be little point in pursuing either without having Islena firmly in her clutches.\"\n\n\"Have you managed to locate Islena?\" Maroc asked, though his glum expression suggested that he already knew the answer.\n\nInos shook his head. \"When Myrhia destroyed the crystal of Thamius, she drastically reduced our oracular reach. At any rate, we were never able to penetrate the veil that surrounds the land of shades.\"\n\nMaroc scowled at this disclosure and his frustration intensified. \"The Natzurdan are still locked in a fugue of mourning.\"\n\n\"Not surprising...Morzhian was loved beyond our ability to comprehend. They grieve not only for him, but for the loss of their beloved land and the injury that the Mother has incurred with this diversion.\"\n\nMaroc did not respond, though his expression conveyed the Jerhia contempt for earth lore and the feminine goddess. \"In their current state of agitation, they will be of little use in restoring the Hiberas to its original course.\"\n\nThe Metocan regarded the Maxim Tier Marshal, wondering if he was prepared for the salient truth of their situation. \"Maroc, the Natzurdan culture is going through its death throes. They feel the Mother has been driven away...that she will never regard them with favor again. They have lost the power of the earth lore and have become a people without purpose. Thus, you should be able to empathize with the enormity of their grief.\"\n\n\"Then how are we to return the Hiberas to its original course?\" Maroc demanded, burgeoning horror dawning in his eyes. Inos experienced a sharp pang of pity for a man who had been rigidly governed by pragmatism and logic, only to learn that his confined philosophy was woefully narrow and could not accommodate the ugly truth of their present situation.\n\n\"We can't,\" he intoned emphatically. \"Our only hope that things might be restored to their original state would be for Islena to locate the staff of Natzurdan, which would endow her with the power to divert the Hiberas on her own.\"\n\n\"The Gods be humbled!\" Maroc whispered as the reality of their present situation crashed down around him much in the same way that the Jerhia mantle of invincibility had been shattered to dust. \"How could you willingly accede to this? We have been imprisoned...exiled.\"\n\nThe reproach in the Tier Marshall's voice pained Inos. \"We were left with no alternative. Any other course of action would have meant certain eradication. Maroc, our future lies squarely on the shoulders of this Islena Doraux...just as it has since the instant the prophecy was first written.\"\n\n2\n\nShe was still submerged deep in the recesses of her fevered subconscious, though the prevailing impression of menace had dissipated. The furtive black shapes that had accosted her were now gone, banished by argent bursts of pure puissance. She did not, however, fall prey to the illusion that she had permanently driven them off, for she could feel their malign presence lurking in the brooding shadows of her mind, hungrily awaiting an opening in her defenses.\n\nIslena shivered (her physical body twitching as dawn hovered just over the edge of the world) and suddenly found herself being drawn away from the desolate landscape. The impression of a world fraught with ambiguous peril and barren desolation dissolved before an explosion of sensations and sounds.\n\nShe felt herself floating...a nebulous, unseen observer in a world that had once been her own (though in a time a millennium younger than the age in which she had traipsed over its dying skin). She could smell the air and feel the wind on her diaphanous skin. With preternatural acuity, Islena could hear the cacophonous sounds of a world struggling violently to find its identity.\n\n\"Why am I here?\" she demanded as this sweeping tableau of wonder unfolded beneath her.\n\n\"Watch, listen and attempt to comprehend the implicit meaning in all you witness.\" The reply had been delivered by the soft, caressing sigh of the wind. Enthralled by this quizzical instruction, Doraux looked on in transfixed amazement.\n\nIn the swirling mists, near a restless ocean, an army laid siege to a massive stone castle. This image then segued into another as a rather awkward looking boy pulled a massive sword from a monolithic stone, his efforts met by the adulation and wonder of those gathered about him. He brandished the sword towards the heavens, its ruby encrusted haft gleaming beneath the pure golden sunlight.\n\nIslena's body jerked in recognition at the sight of the mighty weapon, her muscles arching into a tight bow until only her feet and head remained in contact with the ground. Alarmed, Lorio summoned Emian, but the Metocan could only look on helplessly as Islena contorted and twisted through what he thought to be a series of horrifying convulsions.\n\nNow the image of a wheaten-haired beauty replaced that of the boy and the sword. Even in her spectral state, Islena could discern the girl's conflicted emotions...a discordant blend of trepidation and keen anticipation. The luminous blue eyes conveyed the crux of the girl's quandary...she was, after all, betrothed to the brave and noble lion king. Shyly, she allowed herself to be lead to the marriage altar in a place called Glastonbury, and though she was to wed the most respected, powerful ruler of the age, her heart fluttered at the very sight of the breathtakingly beautiful knight, who had come to serve as her escort.\n\nLancelot, ensconced in a golden corona...the Frenchman radiated passion in the way a fire would give off heat.\n\nOn the cold ground of the Land of Shades, Islena sighed deeply and relaxed, the ghost of a secret smile playing at the corners of her wide mouth. Turgid nipples rose against the rough cloth of her tunic, perplexing all who looked on.\n\n\"Is it the poison that affects her thus?\" Arminda asked Emian uncomfortably.\n\nThe bemused Metocan shook his head. \"I think not, though she is definitely under the pall of some spell.\"\n\nHis mind conjured thoughts of the incubus, but he could detect no alien presence around the ensorcelled woman.\n\nGradually, this sense of innocent infatuation gave way to images of a solemn and regal wedding and the crowning of a queen. Wars and victories followed and she grew to love this man (Arthur), while surreptitiously harboring a profound passion for the noble knight that stood in his service.\n\n' _Why do I experience these, not as vicarious images, but actual memories?'_ Islena wondered in confusion.\n\nHer unseen escort replied, _'If you cannot answer this, then you do not grasp the essence of what you are witnessing.'_\n\nTorn between the passionate love for Lancelot and the loyal, respectful love of her husband, she watched as a paradise was raised out of the unforgiving, primitive land that this great king had tamed. The idyllic perfection of this place...Camelot...left Islena breathless with admiration.\n\nAnd then a shadow fell across the rolling emerald hills, occluding the sun and causing both Islena and the wheaten haired queen to shiver...possibly from the chill or possibly from trepidation...Islena could not be certain.\n\n\"Guinevere,\" a lilting, melodic voice called and into Camelot strode a raven-haired beauty, with incisive eyes that seemed capable of piercing stone...and the armor that protected the lion king's heart. Her name was Morgana...a sorceress with the arcane ability and intellect to match the cryptic Merlin. With her coming, the kingdom was plunged into chaos, thus paving the path to ruin.\n\nIslena watched as, through guile and deceit, Morgana seduced Arthur into her bed, implanting her with a child that the barren queen could not provide. She looked on as Guinevere surrendered to infidelity with Lancelot, thus ripping the romantic fantasy asunder.\n\nOutrage, resentment and shame...Islena experienced all of these things first hand as the victimized queen was relegated to serving the rest of her life in monastic solitude.\n\nThere followed the final futile quest for the missing religious icon and the grim battle with Arthur's bastard son, Mordred. In the end, both had died, plunging the isle of light into a darkness that would last five centuries.\n\nMorgana, the evil catalyst, who had sown the seed of discord, would pay the ultimate price for her treachery. With profound and poignant sorrow, Islena's eyes filled with tears as the fair and tragic queen would die a forgotten woman.\n\nWhy had she dreamed this and why had the mythical queen's emotions affected her so profoundly? As the final grim image of Guinevere's burial at Glastonbury Abbey dissolved, Islena groped to understand the inherent intimacy...the familiarity with which she had experienced the entire dream. Assailed by the virulent poison that raged through her blood, Islena had lost all recollection of the vision that had inspired her to endure her moment of humiliation back on the island. Denied that memory, the context of this particularly vivid dream remained an enigma. Of course, she was familiar with the legend of Arthur and his absurdly heroic and chivalrous knights, but she had no patience for medieval fantasy.\n\nAbruptly, three glowing circles loomed in her mind's eye...one blue, one vermillion and the other, an impossible shade of glowing ebony. After a moment, it occurred to her that the points of light formed the intersections of an equilateral triangle. It impressed her as imperative that she comprehend the intrinsic meaning of this ancient earthly myth...if only to fathom the essence of her own improbable situation.\n\nArthur, Guinevere, Morgana and Excalibur, the mythical sword of power...the names began to repeat themselves in her mind like a rhythmic chant, while the triangle began to rotate with dizzying speed. As the image vibrated and whined, its frenzied motion and sound pushed her toward the brink of epiphany.\n\nJust when it seemed that the elements of the puzzle would resolve into a discernable form, the first warm ray of sunlight fell upon Islena's face and she opened her eyes.\n\n3\n\n\"She appears as frangible and exquisite as a porcelain doll,\" Baldasoran remarked as they gazed through the doors into Myrhia's inner sanctuary...a sprawling, yet Spartan chamber that had once served as the private chambers of Morzhian. Adriatus did not glance at the mercenary, whom he found insufferably repugnant. Instead, he merely grunted.\n\n\"In her odd, dormant state, she appears as vulnerable as a child,\" the Redian continued, either oblivious to the Emercian's strong aversion to his presence or indifferent to it.\n\n\"To assume that the High Queen is in any way vulnerable would be a fatal misjudgment...as your friend, Pherazz so painfully discovered,\" Adriatus reminded Baldasoran tightly.\n\n\"Ah yes, Pherazz. His end was most unfortunate...he was a good man.\"\n\nAgain, the High Commander did not respond, knowing that the dead mercenary had been scum of the vilest sort. \"I trust that there is a reason you have brought me here? I have duties to attend.\"\n\nThe rakish mercenary...the late Pherazz's appointed successor, issued a disdainful laugh. \"If you choose to term marking time while waiting to die a worthy duty, then I suppose.\"\n\nAdriatus gave a start, evoking a rare smile from Baldasoran, who thought, ' _I have your attention now, you pompous ass.'_\n\nThe Emercian glanced nervously over his shoulder, sensing that their conversation was about to stray into perilous waters. \"Say what you must,\" he snapped, \"but keep in mind that sedition is a dangerous business.\"\n\nThe Redian's smile only broadened. \"I believe I am speaking to a prudent man...one who has the perception to sense the direction of the howling wind.\"\n\n\"It is folly to even be here. Entry into this inner chamber is strictly forbidden on the pain of death. If she was to return now, it would be both of our hides,\" Adriatus hissed.\n\n\"Some risks are necessary,\" the smaller man declared with a shrug. \"We both know that she cannot observe our presence while in this state.\"\n\nThe Emercian shifted his anxious gaze to Myrhia, who sat cross-legged upon an ornate rug with her small hands folded primly in her lap, while her skirts billowed around her. Her head was inclined slightly and her sooty lashes lay upon skin like pure cream. The woman was beauty and grace incarnate, but also the most feared creature on the face of this ravaged world. To speculate on the fallibility and limits of her power was to tread a most fine line indeed...and invite a cruel and protracted end.\n\n\"Where do you suppose she goes while in this state?\" the Redian inquired distantly, eyes fixed on the diminutive beauty.\n\n\"I'm not certain,\" Adriatus replied gruffly. \"It is said that she has the ability to slip the restraints of her tangible body and send her spirit forth to where her will directs it. This is why she is able to materialize in places separated by vast distances.\"\n\n\"Does she seek out the woman...the one who has managed to elude her, despite Myrhia's professed power and vision?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" Adriatus intoned impatiently. \"The queen does not see fit to apprise me of her activities.\"\n\n\"Precisely my point!\" Baldasoran exclaimed, his brown eyes gleaming with a triumphant gleam which the High Commander could not fathom.\n\n\"You skirt around the edges of treachery, but perhaps it would be best to plunge in,\" he prompted, not certain if he was prepared to traverse this particular road.\n\nThe mercenary nodded. \"The queen does not see fit to include her High Commander in the devising of her plans. In the past, she has demonstrated that her servants are expendable. Despite her enormous power, look at the state in which we now find ourselves. True, she has virtually conquered the world and vanquished her enemies...but what has she actually gained for her efforts?\"\n\n\"As you said, the world,\" Adriatus growled.\n\n\"And what a world it is,\" Baldasoran countered sardonically. \"We find ourselves beset by demons and malign spirits that can drive a man mad with a single glance. The Metocan, her most skilled adversaries, now hide safely behind the Hiberas. Be honest enough to concede that this ploy caught her totally unaware...as did the desertion of her entire imperial cavalry.\"\n\nAdriatus' gaze faltered and he averted his eyes to the unmoving form in the next room. In a strange way, it was frightening to him to consider that the High Queen was fallible. If she had miscalculated, Emercia would ultimately bear the price of her arrogant misjudgment. He could hardly dispute that her machination failed to reach fruition. This Islena's continued evasion was but one facet of the debate that had begun to nag Adriatus.\n\n\"If that was not enough, there are host of grim portents to raise fear in every heart,\" Baldasoran continued. \"How many Morticants now dwell in the west?\"\n\n\"Three thousand...another legion was expected, but the diversion of the Hiberas forestalled their arrival.\"\n\n\"Regardless, one hundred, given time, would have eventually destroyed the three nations by themselves. Three thousand would constitute an invincible force. Even from the limited perspective of military loyalty, it should be evident that it is the witch's intention to render fallible human followers redundant.\"\n\nAdriatus gaped at the mercenary, an expression of horror blooming on his gaunt face. The Redian grinned tightly. \"If she should succeed in locating this woman and realize her wicked ambition, what value would we have in the grand scheme of her design? The answer is evident...none!\"\n\n\"Do you truly believe that it is the queen's intention to commit genocide?\"\n\n\"That vile witch...that is exactly what I expect,\" Baldasoran responded frankly.\n\nThe Emercian lapsed into a brooding silence, his gaze straying to the deceptively angelic beauty in the chamber room. The mercenary drew his dagger and ran his thumb experimentally along the blade. \"That eventuality could be forestalled by resolute action.\"\n\nThe High Commander glanced at the weapon and rolled his eyes in dismay. \"This talk of sedition is lunacy of the most extreme kind. Do you have any notion of what it is you propose?\"\n\n\"A Redian always understands his situation,\" Baldasoran replied quite seriously. \"We did not spend seven years battling for the glorification of Emercia and its barbaric monarch. We fought for the promise of treasure and wealth. Thus far, a promise is the only remuneration we have received.\"\n\n\"Is that what this is about...tawdry profit?\" Adriatus rasped contemptuously.\n\n\"The entire purpose of life is profit, my sanctimonious friend. Surely you are not deluded enough to suggest that Emercia has always fought for the greater good?\" the Redian sneered. \"When you consider the matter, your motives are more ambiguous and inexplicable than mine...and far more odious, if the truth is told.\"\n\nAdriatus merely remained silent, knowing the other man's accusation to be the irrefutable truth. Baldasoran gave a conciliatory nod. \"Let's not debate philosophy...it's all swill. We are here in Amberdias, but have been forbidden to plunder its vast treasures and now we even find ourselves prisoners, for all intents and purposes. Like cattle in a pen, we are in a prime position to be slaughtered. If you remain oblivious to that reality, I have no doubt that you will suffer the same fate.\"\n\nThere was a terrifying logic to the mercenary's argument and Adriatus was compelled to ask, \"What action do you propose we take?\"\n\n\"Kill the evil whore, of course. Then we take her body to the Cornerstone Nations as a gesture of our sincere repentance and ask for an armistice. You declare yourself to be helpless victims of Myrhia's tyranny and throw yourself on the mercy of the alliance.\"\n\n\"And what exactly do you gain from this bold gambit?\"\n\n\"Ah, we simply slip away, savaging what treasure we can as we go,\" Baldasoran concluded with a sly grin.\n\n\"Killing the high queen may not be such an easy matter. I'm not even certain that she is alive in the sense we understand the concept.\"\n\n\"She is and thus she can die,\" the Redian declared confidently.\n\n\"And what of the Morticants...will they not simply slaughter us if we threaten their creator?\"\n\n\"The Morticants are controlled directly by the queen. If she perishes, they will simply cease to function,\" the mercenary insisted.\n\nAdriatus appeared skeptical, but did not challenge the mercenary's theory. The sheer temerity of this conversation caused the high commander's head to spin.\n\n\"When would we undertake this killing?\" he heard himself ask breathlessly, scarcely able to believe that he would dare contemplate such folly, much less give it voice.\n\n\"When she is the most vulnerable...perhaps now!\" Baldasoran abruptly spun and threw his dagger toward the dormant queen. Some ten feet from her body, it struck an invisible barrier and harsh argent light filled the room, blinding the two would-be conspirators. Pure energy ricocheted off the ornate walls.\n\nThe force of the blast threw the two men to the stone floor. When the pair had recovered from their initial shock, they found a twisted, blackened lump of smoking metal lying at their feet.\n\n\"Fools!\" Adriatus cursed his own stupidity for allowing himself to be drawn into such a suicidal endeavor.\n\nBaldasoran kicked at the charred ruin. \"At least we've learned why the queen does not bother to post Morticants when she is off on her out-of-body excursions.\"\n\nThe dormant sorceress had not stirred for which an agitated Adriatus was genuinely grateful. \"Let us be away from here.\"\n\nThe Redian retrieved the remains of his dagger. \"Obviously, a more considered solution is required.\"\n\n\"Are you raving mad? I should have you quartered for sedition!\" Adriatus cried, astounded by the man's flagrant disregard for his own life.\n\n\"Perhaps, but that would do nothing to alter the reality of your situation.\" With this, the mercenary offered the High Commander a tight grin and stalked away.\n\n4\n\nBen Richards pulled the car to the end of the quay and absently threw the Roadmaster into park. There, he sat staring out over the roiling gray water of Puget Sound. What passed for winter had descended upon the Pacific Northwest, immersing Seattle in a world of enduring gray...painted in infinite shades that were still depressing for all of their variety.\n\nDepressing the power window button, he allowed the chill, damp air into the vehicle's warm interior, causing him to shiver absently. He was not precisely certain what had compelled him to come here, far from his suburban home miles to the north. Yet, the impulse had been well near irresistible and so he had phoned his mother and asked if she might mind the kids for a few hours and in solitude, he had come to the place where land met the sea. _'A transition point,'_ he thought quizzically.\n\n' _Yes, very good Ben...oh so astute.'_ The symbolism of the place and its crass and obvious implications filled him with a kind of self-contempt. Still, it was exactly such a place required to ponder the dizzying changes that had moved his life to this juncture of passage.\n\nHe drew his hand across his face, still unaccustomed to the feel of his beard. This newest affectation had endowed him with a predatory aspect that had been complimented by the streamlining of his body. Richards had labored mightily to shed his mantle of fat and with this svelte and bearded version had come the rebirth of his old confidence.\n\n\"If you could see me now, Izzy,\" he murmured, a thin, humorless smile twisting his lips.\n\nReaching into the interior pocket of his jacket, he drew out his wallet and flipped it open. There, amidst the host of obligatory credit cards and pieces of identification was a much-handled picture of his missing wife. He studied the beautiful visage, still able to see every detail, even when he closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. He fought grimly to hold them back, laying the picture down on the seat next to him.\n\nRichards shifted his gaze through the side window, his attention drawn by a red and green star that seemed to hang suspended over the harbor. He knew that the star hung from a crane in one of the shipyards, a reminder of the rapidly approaching Christmas season. In less than a week, he would celebrate the holiest of days, and for the first time in over a decade that celebration would not include Islena.\n\nYet he would not spend the holiday alone and that was the primary reason he had sought out the isolation of this place. Myrhia...the name rolled off his tongue as if is was a balm capable of annealing any torment, no matter how profound.\n\nIn the days and weeks immediately following Islena's disappearance, Ben's life had become an infinite void...a cold and barren place where no light could enter. Then, he felt certain that he would be relegated to this sterile place for whatever life was left to him.\n\nThen, unexpectedly, Myrhia had come, impacting his life like the nova burst of a sun and filling that void with a radiance and splendor that were inebriating to behold.\n\nHe shook his head and uttered a thin chuckle.\n\nLike Genesis, the diminutive beauty had vivified every aspect of his world, imbuing him with a zeal for life that he had thought irrevocably lost. A new man had emerged from the ruins of misery, drawn forth by the beguiling mystique of this magnificent creature. She had become his life...his love...his single, all-consuming passion.\n\nDespite all of this euphoric upheaval, a tiny voice of admonition rang in his heart and mind, stubbornly refusing to be suppressed. At first, he had attributed the voice to guilt over the blossoming of a new relationship so hard on the heels of Islena's vanishing. He had struggled to ignore it, but it had persisted in occupying a corner of his thoughts...even in those incredible moments of intimacy. With his face buried deep in the luxuriant valley of her breasts or his lips pressed against the sweetness of her womanhood, he could not shake the sense that there was something intrinsically wrong with the direction his life had taken. On these occasions, almost as though she could divine the thread of his thoughts, Myrhia would lace her fingers in his hair and drag his gaze to meet hers. Her depthless eyes seemed to penetrate his mind and banish his misgivings in a pyre of lust that made conscious thought impossible and in truth, unnecessary.\n\nThe tiny voice would invariably return, always imploring him to examine the path over which he was running, and so he had come to this secluded place on a damp December night, hoping to permanently silence the voices.\n\nIt occurred to him that it was necessary to seek out such a place to escape the thrall under which she held him, for he could not deny that this woman, with her esoteric ways, had thoroughly beguiled him. Her presence was like an intense light that precluded the possibility of seeing anything other than her intoxicating beauty.\n\nAway from her, he was at least capable of some degree independent thought and so he attempted to understand and classify exactly what Myrhia was and how she had influenced his life.\n\nIn succinct and unbiased terms, Myrhia La Fey was his salvation. Had it not been for her fortuitous appearance, he would have slipped quietly into a morass of despair. True, the woman was a hieroglyph...a heady blend of sophistication and sensuality, innocence and wisdom.\n\nA disturbing episode of three nights ago came to his mind then...characterizing the enigmatic essence of the woman. They had been making love in the bed he had shared with Islena (an activity that now induced only the mildest tremor of guilt). She sat astride him and it seemed that they had been this way for hours...his manhood and his very being enveloped in her exquisite warmth. She moved with a languid and hypnotic rhythm that propelled him through explosion after body shaking explosion.\n\nAbruptly, she had grasped his wrists and raised his arms above his head, her turgid nipples grazing his chest and sending electric jolts through his taut flesh.\n\nHer eyes were only inches from his, bearing down upon him like dark suns. She began to speak in a voice that was undeniable and riveting. \"Ben, if you will allow me, I can lead you on a journey fraught with wonder. Surrender yourself to me and open your soul to me without reservation, and I will raise you to the heights of intoxication that other men could only hope to imagine...but never attain.\"\n\nThis was utterly silly of course...contrived words conjured up in a moment of passion like an excerpt from a Victorian romance. Regardless, they had compelled him to explode like a geyser. Afterward, tears had poured forth in a torrent and she had gently, but firmly guided his mouth to her breast, where he had continued to weep in joy and gratitude, until his seemingly insatiable need took him again.\n\nThe memory of it frightened him, for too much consuming passion was not without its addictive dangers. Whereas Islena had been a pillar of stability (an impression that had proven false in the end), Myrhia's beauty seemed rare and fragile. There seemed to be an air of impermanence about her as though she might suddenly vanish like a shade before the dawn. The thought terrified Richards, who doubted that anyone could stand to lose two such precious jewels in the span of one lifetime...let alone one year.\n\nAnd yet there were aspects of Myrhia's mercurial nature that aroused a keen sense of anxiety in the beguiled Richards. After the search for Islena had been officially ended, she had requested a transfer to Seattle, which the bureau had granted. She had made it emphatically clear that her agency must not learn of their affair and made him swear that he would never attempt to contact her at work. Furthermore, (and more perplexing still) she had extracted a vow that he would never contact the bureau regarding the case of his missing wife. When pressed for an explanation, she had explained that any perceived association between the pair would be unwise. To his own surprise, he had acceded to her demands, though his vow rang like a private betrayal of Islena.\n\nHer protracted absences also worried him, just as they filled him with a suffocating loneliness. Abruptly, she would return like the dawn, casting her enchantment afresh. There were times when his need for her felt like the most powerful of addictions. He cast a glimpse at Islena's picture and glanced away quickly.\n\nSuddenly the true purpose of this excursion revealed itself in a stellar burst of clarity. He had come here to confront his misgivings true, but he had also come to reconcile himself with the passing of his old life and the loss of the woman around whom his old life had evolved.\n\nIt suddenly occurred to him that his misgivings concerning Myrhia were byproducts of his guilt and torment over the loss of Islena. The passage of love is a poignant and terrible thing, especially under circumstances as tragic as those surrounding the loss of Islena. The gradual estrangement that had preceded her disappearance had proven to be a superficial thing born of inadequacy and petty spite...the blame for which could be laid almost exclusively at his feet. It was natural that grief might manifest itself this way when the prospect of a new life loomed.\n\nIt was in this way that Ben Richards rationalized his doubts regarding Myrhia, concluding that he had sought the quiet solitude of the ocean...not to question a new love, but rather to set the loss of an old one to peace.\n\nIt was perhaps the most difficult thing that he had ever had to do, but the alternative was a slow descent into lethargy and the eventual loss of Myrhia...an eventuality that he could neither permit, nor survive.\n\nIn this new light, he began to see Myrhia as the evolution of his lost wife; a woman whose mystique and daunting beauty began where Islena's left off. The woman was an eternal mystery, fraught with surprise and the most arousing intimation of danger. The sepia tones of memory had already begun to color Ben's recollection of Islena, tarnishing whatever enchantment she had once exerted over her husband.\n\nIt was time to heal...time to begin the process of living, not for just himself, but for the boys as well.\n\nHe smiled fondly at an episode that had taken place only a few days before. The four of them had been sitting in the family room, gathered about the fireplace, while the bone chilling winds of December fell beyond the large bay window that looked out on the deserted suburban street. Ben sat in a wingback, gazing contentedly at Myrhia, who was curled up on the leather sofa, flanked by Donald and Allan. In a Bordeaux colored cashmere sweater and matching slacks, Myrhia was difficult to look upon for an extended period of time and Ben found himself averting his gaze to the fireplace from time to time, just to resume the process of breathing.\n\nA Christmas catalogue was open across her lap and she thumbed through the pages, while the boys pointed out items that populated this year's Christmas dreams. Watching, Ben received the distinct impression that many of the electronic devices and toys baffled her. She appeared to be concentrating on the pages intently as though attempting to fathom the internal workings of some alien engine. Unless she was from another planet, she would have to be aware of the latest line of over-promoted electronic gadgetry, but the impression persisted despite its improbability.\n\n\"There...that's what I'd like!\" Allan exclaimed, startling the others with his exuberant outburst. Myrhia frowned and looked closer before her expression became one of sheer delight. She glanced up, flashing Ben an oddly provocative grin.\n\n\"A magic kit,\" she explained.\n\n\"Not just any old magic kit,\" Allan amended excitedly. \"This is Merlin's kit of wonders...more than two hundred tricks.\"\n\nFor just a second, perhaps less, Ben believed he had witnessed an expression of searing pain flash across his lover's face, though perhaps it had been a trick of the flickering fire light. Myrhia smiled fondly and abruptly hugged the boy to her breast. \"When I was a little girl, no older than you are now, I fell in love with magic.\"\n\n\"Really?\" The small boy's eyes beamed with an innocent wonder and something that closely resembled the way he use to gaze upon Islena.\n\n\"Truly! I learned every magic trick I could find. In time, I became quite good at all kinds of magic.\"\n\n\"Aw, magic isn't real...it's just a bunch of eye tricks and stuff,\" Donald observed cynically from the height of his young boy's wisdom.\n\nShe turned to the older boy, regarding him with an elaborate expression of stern disapproval. \"Ah, a young cynic. Perhaps I can make a believer out of you yet.\"\n\nWith this, she had rolled up the sleeves of her sweater and held her hands out for the boy's inspection. \"Nothing up my sleeve.\"\n\nBoth Donald and Allan watched her, spellbound.\n\n' _She captivated them both,'_ Ben realized as the warmth of contentment settled over him.\n\nMyrhia then pressed the flat of her palms together so that her fingertips pointed away from her. Closing her eyes, she murmured several unintelligible words, while the pair of boys regarded her with eyes that resembled saucers. Slowly, she began to separate her palms. To the amazement of all, a tiny green spark hung suspended between her hands. Still murmuring, she extended her hands and the spark elongated into a thin line of emerald flame. When she moved her palms closer together, the thing line appeared to retract proportionally.\n\n\"How is she doing that?\" Richards wondered, a tiny sliver of unease prickling his mind.\n\nAs Myrhia moved her hands in an elaborate pattern, the green flame began to perform an intricate dance. Turning to Allan, she asked, \"Would you like to hold it?\"\n\nSpeechless with awe, the boy simply nodded. She instructed him to cup his palms and hold his hands forth. Hesitantly, the boy complied and she dropped the tiny emerald flame into the cusp of his palm.\n\nHis mouth spread into a comical O of surprise and then he began to giggle.\n\n\"It's beautiful!\" he laughed happily.\n\n\"Yes,\" Myrhia agreed in a tone that was surprisingly somber. \"Now, close your palm.\"\n\nDisappointed, the boy complied. When he again opened his tiny hand, two polished jades lay in the palm. Gently, she took one from the amazed child and handed it to the equally astounded Donald.\n\n\"You see, magic is very real and now you have the evidence to prove it.\" Donald merely gaped at the stones and nodded solemnly, thoroughly chastened by the demonstration.\n\nThen she turned to Allan and swept him up onto her lap. \"You see, you have magical powers already.\"\n\n\"Do you mean I...I did that?\"\n\n\"Yes...because you believed, the stones became real. I am from a magical place...a place of imagination and enchantment. Would you like to see it with me one day?\"\n\n\"Yes, auntie Myrhia,\" the boy replied at once, using the name he had begun to call the new woman in his life.\n\nLater, as they lay naked before a guttering fire, Ben had asked, \"That trick...the one with the fire and the jades...how in God's name did you do that?\"\n\nShe raised herself on one elbow, allowing her full right breast to settle against his chest. Eyes glistening, she replied pertly, \"Not all tricks are of God's earth.\"\n\nBefore he could press her further, she ran an index finger along his inner thigh and over the underside of his stirring penis. \"Really Ben, I would have thought you'd be more curious about another kind of magic I practice.\"\n\nLooking back, his memory fixed upon the adoring way that the boys had gazed at Myrhia, their eyes alight with wonder and love. Now, he understood that he had witnessed a great and tragic moment of passage...a juncture where Islena Doraux had passed from grief into memory of those who had loved her. His sons, he now saw, had already moved on and were waiting for him to claim Myrhia and move along with them.\n\nSuddenly, Ben Richards laid his head on the steering wheel and began to cry unabashedly, grieving for the woman he had lost. After a long time, the convulsive sobs subsided and he began to regain his composure.\n\nLess than twelve weeks before the second storm would shatter his already damaged world, Ben Richards wiped his red-rimmed eyes and put the car into gear. For him, Islena Doraux had receded into memory, a part of a life from which he had now moved forward. He reversed the car and drove home, blithely contemplating the prospect of joy and brightness that seemed his for the taking.\n\nChapter Five\n\n1\n\nThe sun rose swiftly, reaching its zenith only moments after it crested the eastern horizon. Spectacular and abstractly terrifying, it hung suspended in the heavens in defiance of every know convention of astronomy. Both Arminda and Emian watched its ascent in mute amazement until finally, the Jerhia asked \"Is such a thing possible?\"\n\nIn a voice brimming with genuine awe, the Metocan replied, \"In this wicked place, anything may be possible.\"\n\nThe pair gravitated over to Lorio and the still unconscious Doraux as Emian intoned, \"We must make plans, Arminda.\"\n\nThe Jerhia nodded stiffly, still trying to acclimatize herself with her role as leader. \"I will ask Sormias to fly ahead and locate the western sea and hopefully Artumas.\"\n\nThe Metocan nodded his concurrence and the pair came to a halt near the Lamish woman, who regarded them with a cold scowl. _'Will nothing change between us?'_ Arminda thought and asked, \"How does she fair?\"\n\n\"Her slumber is fitful, but her heart beat remains strong,\" Lorio commented in a voice completely devoid of emotion. Arminda and Emian exchanged glances as Sormias joined the group.\n\n\"We must resume the journey as once,\" the Jerhia explained. \"Time is crucial. What's more, we really know nothing of the spiders and it is not inconceivable that they may renew their assault.\"\n\nEveryone nodded their agreement and Arminda breathed a sigh of relief. Bolstered, she turned to Sormias. \"I have another request to make of you, my friend.\"\n\n\"I am yours to command my lady,\" the Golgar responded with a lavish bow.\n\n\"We must locate the man we seek in as expeditious a fashion as possible and we must go to him directly. It would be a priceless service if you could seek him out and guide us to him. It is said that he is a solitary man living somewhere along the shore of the great ocean.\"\n\n\"A worthy task,\" Sormias remarked amicably, \"one that I will gladly undertake. When would you have me leave?\"\n\n\"Now, if you would.\"\n\n\"As you wish.\" With a graceful flap of his wings, the Golgar took to the sky, where he hovered, gazing down on the group with his inscrutable golden eyes. His tone grew atypically somber. \"I sense that this place will be fraught with peril more complex and terrifying than any you have faced thus far. Be vigilant and ward yourselves against the darkness that lurks in your midst.\"\n\nBefore any clarification could be requested, he flapped his wings and swept westward like a giant eagle, leaving the others to exchange quizzical glances. Lorio spat in disgust and uttered a vile Lamish curse.\n\nWhen Sormias disappeared over a distant ridge, Arminda turned to Nymal. \"I ask that you provide assistance to Gillian. Whatever he has become, he was once a great warrior. The Nation of Jerhia will owe you a great debt.\"\n\nThe Emercian nodded and Emian winked at Arminda in silent pride, delighted that she had met his expectations. The Jerhia stepped between Lorio and the prone figure of Islena. \"We must devise a way to move Islena.\"\n\nSurprisingly, an expression of melancholy flickered upon the Lamish warrior's lovely face. \"I will construct a device. It was Islena who taught me how to build this simple means of transport.\"\n\n\"That will not be necessary,\" a voice declared gruffly. \"I have legs and I will walk.\" Startled, the group spun about as one to find Islena rising to her feet. The one of prophecy had rejoined the land of the living.\n\n2\n\nThe group turned in unison to find Islena supporting herself on her elbows and gazing blearily about. They inquired after her in a babbled rush, but she waved them away impatiently. She glanced down at her wounded leg, then gingerly ran her fingertips over the bandaged wound with a bemused frown playing at her lips as though she could not recall how she had suffered the injury.\n\nTentatively, as the others looked on with identical expressions of expectancy, Islena rose to her feet and strode directly towards the precipice. The others attempted to dissuade her, but when it became obvious that she would not heed their admonition, the group swiftly moved after her. Arminda noticed that even the unflappable Lorio appeared perplexed by Islena's behavior. Islena ventured to the very edge and peered over, staring fixedly at something below. When the others joined her, they discovered a great deal about the spiders and the grim purpose they served.\n\n\"Then Sormias was right,\" Arminda remarked softly, drawing a sharp glance from Doraux. The Jerhia became aware of the scrutiny, sensing it upon her skin like an angry touch. Quickly, she explained, \"The Golgar said that their sole purpose was to guard the upper land. This would substantiate that notion.\"\n\nDoraux returned her gaze to the sheer rock face which was hung with a vast proliferation of seemingly harmless gray bulbs. The spiders had returned to their cocoons, their ranks seemingly undiminished. Indeed, there was no obvious indication that the previous day's grim battle had ever occurred save for the huge gouges that pocked the rock face.\n\nIslena's expression darkened menacingly and she spun about, extending her arm palm outward in a gesture of summoning. There followed a high whine and the Dragonsword leapt into the air and glided directly into Doraux's outstretched palm as her mystified companions looked on.\n\nPivoting in place, she held the blade aloft, meaning to unleash the sword's power on the dormant spiders. Emian swiftly placed a hand on her wrist and cautioned, \"That would not be a prudent course of action.\"\n\nDoraux glowered at the Metocan, her body rigid and her eyes blazing in indignation. For the briefest instant, Arminda feared that she might vent her outrage upon Emian. Then the tension slowly drained from Islena's body and she turned and traipsed back toward the camp without further word.\n\nThe Metocan inhaled sharply and exchanged a concerned glance with Arminda, who felt all of her misgivings resurface as she stared after Doraux's broad back.\n\n3\n\n\"There is no need to dote...I'm fine,\" Islena remarked in a tone edged with ire. \"The leg is tender, but nothing more.\"\n\n\"Then we can be most grateful for small mercies,\" Emian declared as he finished applying a new dressing to the wound, which did show signs of remarkable improvement. Still, the Metocan's acuity warned him that all was not well with Doraux. The nature of her infirmity was ambiguous and he realized that the party would have to wait until it manifested itself, before it could be dealt with. When the bandaging was complete, he offered, \"Perhaps it would be wise to wait for another day before continuing.\"\n\nIslena brushed off his suggestion with a brusque shake of her head and rose quickly. \"We've squandered enough time. That precipice was not a random geographical occurrence. It's a dividing point of some kind. We've overcome a major obstacle...I'm certain of that...and it may be that we are close to the western sea.\"\n\nThe Emercian drew up beside Islena then, guiding Gillian the way one might lead a small child. Doraux regarded the Jerhia closely for the first time since she had emerged from unconsciousness. An inscrutable expression settled over her face as her gaze swept over the man who was to have been her assassin. His angular face was slack and his pale blue eyes were clouded and confused. His Jerhia uniform hung in tatters; a stark symbol of his own decay.\n\n\"What is the matter with him?\" Islena demanded, her eyes never leaving the vacuous face.\n\n\"It seems his mind has been addled by the demons that had possessed him,\" Emian speculated.\n\n\"Will he recover?\" she asked, giving the impression that the question had been posed more out of curiosity than genuine concern.\n\n\"There is no way of knowing,\" the Metocan admitted candidly.\n\nDoraux nodded curtly and gazed around. \"And where is Sormias?\"\n\nArminda explained how she had dispatched the Golgar to search for the western sea. Islena regarded the Jerhia with an unwavering glance of appraisal as she related how she had sent the winged creature in search of the lost king.\n\n' _She is keener somehow...and much colder,'_ Arminda thought, thinking how her reaction to Gillian's plight had been nothing more than clinical.\n\nDoraux straightened and lashed the Dragonsword across her broad back. \"Then there is nothing left for us to do but carry on.\"\n\nWith this, she turned westward and resolutely headed up the slope into the upper lands.\n\nArminda's assessment of Doraux's demeanor had been thoroughly incorrect. Though superficial appearances made it seem that Islena was more determined and focused, the impression was unequivocally false. As the party mounted the slope, which led to the edge of the upper land, Islena's sanity and indeed her very soul, was poised on the tottering edge of the abyss. Through the endless gateways and alleys of her body, the invasive virulence warred with the puissance of the Jerhia collective, each struggling to gain control of their host. The effect of this conflict upon Islena could be likened to a rapid setting and dawning of the sun. When the collective gained control, an icy calm would envelop Islena, imbuing her with an unflagging sense of resolve. In this state, she could function with all of the customary efficiency of the Jerhia, allowing her to make pragmatic and dispassionate decisions. Though she should have recognized it for what it was, Arminda failed to recognize Islena's purported dismissal of Gillian's condition as typical Jerhia reserve.\n\nYet when the spider's toxin would hold sway in Islena's mind, her thoughts would be plunged into a morass of dark, frightening shadow. There, everything around her would be nuanced with apocalyptic terror, instilling an icy fear deep in the cleft of her heart. As was her nature, Islena reacted to fear with towering rage. She altered between these two states at a frenetic pace, swinging wildly from glacial composure to seething fury and back again in the blink of an eye.\n\nIslena reached the top of the rise and drank in her first view of the upper lands. Lorio came to stand beside her and an impassive mask clamped down upon Islena's visage to guard against the Lamish woman's prescience. When Arminda reached the crest and gazed upon the vista that awaited her, she gasped in open incredulity. Of all of the party members, she was the one who did not bother to guard her emotions. The sight of this wondrous place suffused her being with an intoxicating euphoria that she could not contain. \"By the Gods, this is like some enchanted mythical kingdom!\"\n\nThe others glanced at her and she suddenly felt foolish, though more for her expression of the notion that for the actual notion itself. The vista before them was possibly the most spectacular that any of the group had ever had the good fortune to set eyes upon.\n\nThe hues were so brilliant that it took the eyes time to adjust to their purity. The air was redolent with the sweetest, most tantalizing scents imaginable. The young Jerhia found the gently rolling hills and the unfamiliar, towering trees that covered them, ineffably beautiful. This place, in its verdant splendor, made it possible to momentarily forget the nightmare from which they had fled. In an instant of crystalline clarity, she declared, \"This is what the spiders were trying to protect. In the face of such majestic beauty, I can nearly sympathize with their cause. Man does not deserve dominion over this.\"\n\nNo one spoke to contradict her and they all just stared silently at the tableau of idyllic perfection.\n\nA tiny river, not much larger than a fast flowing creek, wound its way through a valley with an indolence that spoke of a land untouched by time.\n\n\"We will be the first humans to set foot upon this soil,\" the Emercian declared solemnly, his voice fraught with both reverence and a hint of reluctance. It seemed that none of the party members seemed particularly eager to descend as though their presence might sully this magical place. Not encumbered by any such sensibilities, Lorio commenced down the long, gentle slope and the others fell into line behind her. Perhaps sensing Islena's need for solitude, the others allowed her to drift to the back of the line.\n\nThey reached the base of the slope and crossed the valley floor, finally drawing adjacent to the narrow river, where they discovered that the river abruptly disappeared into a gaping hole in the valley floor.\n\n\"An underground river,\" Arminda observed, while gazing down into the gaping vortex.\n\n\"Odd though...the rock face showed no sign of a waterfalls pouring from the wall. Wherever this stream may flow, it is not eastward,\" Emian pointed out. After a moment's silent consideration, the party resumed their march. The warmth of the sun, the sweetness of the air and the idyllic majesty of the environment worked to weave a spell upon the party members. They all seemed to retreat behind a wall of reticence, each lost in their own private thoughts and reflections. As they placed more distance between themselves and the precipice, the horror of the previous day's battle with the guardians began to fade...as though it was a distant memory or something which they had experienced only vicariously.\n\nEven Emian could not fully resist the beguiling allure of this place. It touched his mind like a narcotic and he found himself drifting into a capricious reverie as though his surroundings were more surreal than tangible. Gillian's befuddled frown gave way to an expression of dull-eyed contentment.\n\nOnly Islena did not succumb to the subtle spell of this natural paradise. She stumbled along after the others, her body shivering violently as the war raged within its powerful fortress. She was the first to discern that they were no longer alone and that the unseen occupants of the upper lands were malicious and charged with secret purpose.\n\nHer gaze shifted to the upper tree line and as the cycle of venom held court with her senses, she could see hints of furtive movement in the shadows that gathered at the base of the huge trees. She could feel the weight of their gaze upon her hot skin...they were repulsive and indescribably vile. Such eyes would be red and fraught with limitless hatred.\n\nA profuse sweat broke out over her entire body, running salty and hot, over her brow and into her green eyes. The painful sting caused her to stumble, groping to wipe away the river of oily perspiration. Laughter...high and sardonic...tore through the silence.\n\nDoraux actually stopped, finding that she had suddenly grown winded for the first time since the enchantress had abducted her into this damnable world. Again, the laughter issued out of the trees, ringing loud and cacophonous through the valley.\n\nIslena peered at the others and was surprised to discover that no one else had responded to the shrewish braying. It was as if they had not heard the horrible whine, though surely that was impossible for it had been loud and shrill enough to shatter glass.\n\n' _You're ill, Islena,'_ Guinevere informed her. _'And you're going to get a lot worse before you get better.'_\n\nDoraux shook her head, even as her body was assailed by another round of intense shivers. She glanced up at the others, intending to call for help...meaning to call for respite, but was shocked to find that they were nearly three hundred yards ahead of her. It vexed her to realize that they were not even aware that she was no longer traipsing behind them.\n\n' _That is because they are part of what is wrong with you, Islena. They conspire against you just as the things in the trees hunger for the power you wield.'_ The voice seemed reasoned and lucid, its message so irrefutably logical that Islena stopped in mid step, her mouth agape and her eyes bulging comically. This moment of revelation was as profound as the return of sight after a prolonged period of blindness. Its brightness and clarity dazzled her senses. She had risked everything on their behalf and they now repaid her sacrifice with infamy and cold indifference.\n\nThe shock of revelation was quickly replaced by seething outrage. She felt her hand move automatically to the haft of the sword, though a tiny voice warned that such a course of action would be disastrous. She hurried her pace, jogging up the gentle incline, while the angry wasps of resentment raged in her head very much in the same way that Gillian's demons had accosted him.\n\nThe shrill laughter again reverberated through the cloying air, drilling deep into Doraux's beleaguered thoughts until she clutched her hands to her ears in a vain effort to block them out.\n\nLooking back at the towering trees, she could clearly see them now; legions of sly, capering entities that mocked and taunted her. They filled the shadows and hollows, glaring at her with sardonic derision that goaded her toward uncontrollable violence.\n\n4\n\n\"Something is seriously awry with Islena.\"\n\nIt had been Lorio who had spoken and her simple declaration broke the reverie that had plunged the group into a hypnotized lockstep. The others shook their heads, not quite grasping the reason behind their odd feeling of disassociation. To a one, they had no clear notion where they were or how much ground they had covered since entering the upper lands.\n\nEven the sun leant to this sense of disorientation as it remained stationary at its zenith, making the accurate estimation of time virtually impossible.\n\nLorio began to move back towards Islena, but stopped abruptly. Shaking off their malaise, Emian and Arminda raced to join her, only to come to the same fearful halt. Doraux stood utterly stationary, her body as rigid as a piece of statuary. Her face roiled with turbulent emotion that appeared to range from agony to unadulterated hatred. Her generous mouth was contracted in a paroxysm of immutable rage. More confounding still, her rage seemed to be directed toward them.\n\nCognizant of the delicacy of this unexpected situation, the three began to hurry toward Islena. Abruptly, she bellowed and drew the Dragonsword, raising it above her head as the rubies erupted in a vermillion frenzy.\n\n5\n\nDoraux could sense the insistence of the poison escalating within her. Horrified, she glanced down at her wounded calf to discover that the diamond muscle bulged and rippled as thought something was moving under the tight skin.\n\nThe steady drone of laughter filled the chamber of her skull now, making coherent thought impossible. Her gaze shifted from the entities in the forest to the party members who were now moving toward her. As they came nearer, she saw that each wore an amused derisive grin as though they found her plight uproariously funny.\n\nThe cacophony of laughter rose to a crescendo until, unable to suffer it any further, Doraux leveled the Dragonsword and bellowed, \"Enough!\"\n\nEnraged, she whirled the sword above her head in a mighty arc as the air around her head crackled and hissed with power.\n\n\"Islena, no!\" Emian pleaded, dreading the consequences of unleashing the icon's puissance in a place such as the upper land. He began to move toward her, but Lorio placed a restraining hand on his chest. \"Move back to the crest of the hill...but very slowly. She is frenzied with violence. I will attempt to calm her, but should I fail, you would be well-advised to run.\"\n\nHe started to protest, but she forestalled his objection with a dismissive flick of a wrist. \"Islena is my friend...if anyone can prevent this eruption, it's me.\"\n\nEmian held her gaze for a moment and then nodded, deferring to her calm in the face of grave danger. He moved back to the group and began to usher the other three back up the slope. Lorio watched them retreat for several seconds and then turned her attention back to Islena with a wary sigh.\n\nThe muscular beauty regarded her with the very eyes of hatred and madness. Islena snarled and in response, the Dragonsword unleashed a bolt of vermillion power that gouged the earth some twenty feet in front of Lorio, kicking up clumps of grass and dirt. Lorio viewed this destruction impassively.\n\nA malevolent grin twisted Islena's full mouth and she inquired, \"Will you not run with the others?\"\n\nLorio offered no response, but could not help but shiver at the timber of madness that rang in her former friend's voice. Instead, she reached over her shoulder and slowly drew forth her quarter staff. Doraux's demented grin brightened at this. \"Very good...come and taste my power,\" she taunted, interpreting action as a willingness to fight. \"You've always wanted to taste my blood. I see you now for what you are and so there is no further need for pretense.\"\n\nLorio suddenly cast the quarter staff aside. It disappeared into the tall grass, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.\n\n\"I'm going to come to you,\" she stated simply and began to walk toward Islena. The others watched breathlessly as the tension-filled moment unfolded, each astounded by Lorio's courage. What she was doing was akin to dancing into the jaws of a dragon, and still she held herself erect and strode purposefully forward.\n\nWatching Lorio go forth, Arminda smiled, wondering how Myrhia could ever hope to subjugate people such as this.\n\nLorio's dispensing of her quarter staff filled Islena with confusion and she lowered her sword, if only incrementally. _'She means to deceive you,'_ the black virulence in her blood insisted. _'This display of friendship and trust is but another ruse. You must demonstrate to them, forcibly and unequivocally, that you will no longer be fooled by the offered hand of friendship.'_\n\nIslena shivered violently as the corruption implored her to strike Lorio down. \"Stay back of I'll flay the flesh from you bones!\"\n\nLorio's step never faltered. \"Then that's precisely what you'll have to do because I'm coming over to you.\"\n\nIslena bellowed an inarticulate cry of anger. She leveled the sword and strafed the ground before Lorio's feet. The grass burst into flame, sending an oddly acrid smoke into the afternoon air. When Lorio continued to venture closer, Doraux began to wave the sword wildly about, indiscriminately leveling stands of trees and tearing up sections of meadowlands, until the once beautiful valley was reduced to a scarred ruin.\n\nDespite the carnage, Lorio would not be deterred. She came on, unblinking and somehow regal, as dirt and debris rained down upon her.\n\nDoraux's tirade of destruction continued, though the hybrid quickly discerned that that Islena retained enough of her humanity to prevent her from lashing out directly at her former friend. The discovery led Lorio to smile, confident in the knowledge that Doraux would lack the spirit to defend herself when the time finally came to end this charade of camaraderie.\n\nIslena expended one final burst of energy and the distant tree line erupted into flame. She then brandished the weapon at Lorio, who was now less than ten feet away. \"I will not be your pawn...stay back!\"\n\nLorio shook her head sadly. \"I cannot...you have a role to play and despite what has befallen you, destiny will not exonerate you from that obligation.\"\n\nThe words were delivered in a soft, yet implacable voice and they shattered the thrall of the virulence. Doraux's face seemed to dissolve into a sea of tears. Lowering the sword, she hung her head and began to sob violently.\n\nLorio calmly stopped before her and gently slipped the weapon from her hand. Then she encircled the smaller woman's waist and then led her up to the hill to where the others were emerging from cover.\n\n6\n\nBy the time the pair had rejoined the others, Islena's weeping had subsided and she slipped into the fugue state that had preceded the emergence of her virulence-fueled alter ego. Lorio greeted the congratulatory outburst with an impatient nod, before handing the Dragonsword to Arminda. \"It seems that you should be the icon's caretaker. After all, it was wrought by the folly of your ancestors.\"\n\nArminda reluctantly accepted both the sword and the reproach, suddenly wishing that she could throw the icon into the Hiberas. Just then, Islena's knees unhinged and she sank into the deep grass. Lorio quickly knelt beside her and propped her head up. Doraux, with slack features and her eyes glazed, merely whispered, \"I must sleep.\"\n\nShe then drifted into unconsciousness as Arminda looked on, her anxiety deepening into a sense of dejection. \"We will make camp here,\" she declared softly. \"There is little to be gained by trying to forge ahead.\"\n\nEmian regarded her closely as she trudged over to her pack and discarded the Icon the way that one might cast away a worthless and repulsive piece of garbage.\n\nA heavy pall of despondency settled over the group then. Islena's dangerous, volatile state made ultimate failure seem inevitable. With startling swiftness, night descended on the upper lands. As the sun set, it plummeted from its zenith to disappear below the horizon in a span of mere minutes.\n\nEmian stood, staring vacantly up into the jeweled vault of the heavens, a somber expression upon his broad face. Arminda approached the Metocan hesitantly, afraid to intrude upon his moment of privacy.\n\n\"Come and join me, Arminda,\" he called softly, aware of her presence without turning. \"There is much to discuss.\"\n\nShe drew up beside him, following his gaze which was trained upon the distant constellations. \"Such inexpressible beauty,\" he murmured softly. \"Our language lacks the faculty to describe such splendor.\"\n\nHe shifted his gaze to the blackened trees and the gouged and charred grasslands that marked Islena's frenzy of destruction. \"Perhaps we should renege...abandon the quest and surrender to Myrhia's victory and whatever consequences such a grim finality would entail.\"\n\nThe Jerhia regarded Emian with undisguised dismay. He became cognizant of her scrutiny and offered a rather self-conscious chuckle. \"Look about you, Arminda. Drink in the majesty of the untouchable heavens and then turned an unbiased eye upon the destruction that we have inflicted upon this virginal wonder.\"\n\n\"The fault is not Islena's, Emian,\" Arminda reminded him quietly, unsettled by the pervasive moroseness that had suddenly clouded the Metocan's normally limpid eyes. \"The spider's poison had corrupted her senses.\"\n\n\"As you say, perhaps we have suffered this fate because we have violated a sanctuary where man was not meant to come. By our very nature, we have a proclivity for destruction. For all of our refinements, ours is a vulgar and base species. I suspect this is why we laud the artist and sculptor; creation is contrary to our nature. Myrhia, despite our labels, may well be the very embodiment of our true nature. If we were to vanish in a frenzy of carnage, the rest of the world would benefit from our extinction.\"\n\n\"Yet despite all of this, we strive to give expression to our visions of beauty,\" Arminda pointed out. Now it was Emian's turn to appear thoroughly amazed. \"Each time we defy our instinct toward devastation, we elevate our self-worth...we evolve. With evolution, there comes, at last, the hope that we may change, gradually becoming the higher species that the gods intended us to be.\"\n\nEmian laughed kindly. \"By the gods, a Jerhia with a philosophical inclination.\"\n\nArminda blushed, but did not avert her gaze. \"If we relent, that process of evolution will never be given the opportunity to run its course.\"\n\nThe Metocan brightened perceptibly. \"Certainly, we would not be the ones to deny the course of evolution.\"\n\nArminda's self-conscious blush deepened. \"We must decide how to handle the matter of Islena's affliction. Unbridled and deprived of her reason, she is potentially every bit as dangerous as Myrhia.\"\n\nEmian's levity dissipated like a mist before the ravages of a biting winter gale. \"What's more, I fear that Doraux's wanton destruction might rouse the darker specters that most certainly dwell somewhere in this place. It is imperative that we prevent a similar recurrence.\"\n\n\"But how...Islena, despite the madness that has fevered her mind, still exercises control over the sword as if she has formed a bond with the intrinsic soul of my people. Hers is the power to summon the sword, which heeds her will despite the severity of her encroaching infirmity.\"\n\nThe Metocan considered this statement thoughtfully as his gaze wandered back to the campfire where his world's solitary hope lay in the embrace of unconsciousness, while the imposing form of Lorio watched over her. \"She must be restrained.\"\n\nArminda glanced sharply at the Metocan. \"You mean to bind her as if she was a common criminal?\"\n\nAmongst members of the Cornerstone Nations, to be bound was the severest form of sanction. The idea of restraining a woman of Islena's stature was unthinkable, but Arminda quickly deduced that the gravity of their situation would well leave her with no alternative. It occurred to her that Lorio, who was fiercely loyal to Doraux, might not be as inclined to accept the logic of this proposed course of action. She pointed this out to Emian, who nodded and replied, \"Then it is best that we make our volatile Lamish friend a party to our proposal.\"\n\nAs was always the case, Lorio did not glance up to acknowledge their presence. Arminda suspected that this was her expression of contempt for the party and possibly the quest upon which it was embarked. She listened with the inscrutable face of a stone idol as Emian detailed his concerns and his subsequent proposal to bind Islena. Once he had concluded, an expectant silence descended upon the trio. Arminda began to feel certain that Lorio would vehemently refuse to allow Islena to be bound and was considering how the party might deal with this delicate situation, when the hybrid remarked, \"I will neither aid nor oppose this restraint, but you must realize that this measure will only serve to further isolate and alienate Islena, propelling her deeper into the thrall of her paranoia.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, but another incident of rampant destruction may well obliterate the lot of us. Until her poisoning has run its course, she cannot be trusted to wield the Dragonsword.\"\n\nLorio glanced away, briefly entertaining the notion of killing the pair and abruptly ending this now pathetic misadventure. She would return Islena to Myrhia, but the thought flickered and vanished, banished by the realization that, once consigned to Myrhia's keeping, Lorio would lose Islena forever.\n\nPursing her lips, she gazed up at the two leaders, their similar expressions reminding Lorio of gaping owls. \"The wanton destruction cannot be allowed to reoccur,\" she allowed. \"Perhaps it is best that Islena be restrained until the venom can be purged from her system.\"\n\nBoth Emian and Arminda exchanged sighs of heartfelt relief and for a brief instant, Lorio experienced a profound hatred toward the pair that made her unmoving blood set to boil.\n\n' _I will commend your bones to the dust,'_ she vowed silently and yet managed to keep the enmity from her expression. Reversing her declaration that she would have no hand in the affair, she requested that she be allowed to bind Doraux and be given stewardship over the ailing woman.\n\nEmian and Arminda exchanged suspicious glances, clearly distrusting what they perceived to be Lorio's abrupt and uncharacteristic change of heart. The exotic beauty watched the pair, her face impassive...carefully masking her contempt.\n\nThe Metocan weighted Lorio's offer and finally replied, \"You are her oldest friend and it is only fitting that we entrust you with her care. As far as the binding, I believe that the Metocan method might prove more effective...and less uncomfortable for Islena.\"\n\nLorio shrugged indifferently and rose to follow the pair over to where the Emercian sat next to the still catatonic Gillian. Out of courtesy, Arminda stiffly apprised him of her decision, privately wondering how long it would be before she would ever regard Emercians as anything more than enemies.\n\nMinutes later, the group had assembled around the prone figure of Islena Doraux, who tossed fitfully in the depths of her venom-fuelled fever. Her lovely face was pinched and drawn, reflecting a profound misery that could not be attributed to physical suffering alone.\n\nWatching Doraux quiver helplessly, a somber mood descended upon the party, each reaching the stark realization that the very hope of the world lay withering upon the ground of this alien place.\n\n\"I assure you that this will cause her neither pain nor discomfort,\" Emian remarked as he knelt behind Doraux. \"The only discomfort will come at the expense of her considerable pride and dignity.\"\n\nAs the others watched intently, he gently folded her arms over her breasts. Closing his eyes, Emian began to move his hands over her wrists in slow circles, while mouthing incantations in his native tongue. Slowly, a soft yellow light began to radiate from his palms, spreading to envelope Doraux's hands before traveling along the length of her forearms. When the Metocan had completed his ministrations, Doraux's entire upper body was encased in a muted, oddly spectral glow of pure energy.\n\nInhaling softly, the Metocan stood back and patiently began to explain the mechanics of his labors. \"I've merely taken a portion of her energy and employed it as a restraint. The muted yellow glow that you see is energy being drawn from her body. If she does not struggle to extricate herself from her bonds, the level of power required to hold her will remain constant.\"\n\n\"And if she should attempt to free herself?\" Arminda inquired, her blue eyes conveying the pity she felt for the beleaguered Doraux.\n\n\"Then the field will simply draw more energy from her body to compensate for the effort, eventually exhausting her. The more frantic her attempts become the more energy the field will extricate from her body and the quicker she will be subdued. Therein lays the beauty of this particular method. When she sees that her struggle is futile, Islena is bound to be more pliable.\"\n\nLorio sat down on the ground beside Islena, who appeared as though she had been cocooned in moonlight. Without glancing up at the Metocan, she offered, \"If you believe that Islena will accept this readily, you are sorely deluded.\"\n\nWithout awaiting his response, Lorio turned on her side and closed her eyes.\n\nChapter Six\n\n1\n\nOthgol had never been described as a blithe or joyous place, plunged as it was in perpetual, swirling mists and pervasive gloom. The Metocan preferred this climate, but visitors to the mystic capital were hard pressed to fight off the despondency which such a bleak atmosphere could easily evoke.\n\nInos had just returned to his private quarters, occupying himself with reports from north Metocan, where efforts were underway to collect enough crystal to reconstruct the shattered oracular crystal of Thamius which Myrhia had destroyed. The process was painstaking and arduous as each shard of crystal had to undergo a protracted ritual of endowment before it could be utilized as a lens for augury. The Metocan leader stared blankly at the report for several moments, not able to focus his thoughts upon the details and finally allowed the scroll to slip through his fingers.\n\nLosing the crystal of Thamius had been a symbolic blow for the Metocan. Its destruction had effectively reduced the Metocan to a state of virtual oracular blindness. The Inner Circle could no longer predict the flow of fate or chart the unfolding of events in distant lands. Myrhia was free to weave her dark magic unobserved and more frustrating still, the Metocan had no way of divining what had befallen Islena and the party.\n\nThe previous night, the Inner Circle had attempted to combine their collective vision to communicate with Emian, but their efforts had been met with resounding failure. Diverting the Hiberas had effectively stalled Myrhia's juggernaut of conquest on the western continent, but it had also erected an impenetrable barrier to the Metocan ability of prescience.\n\nDespite his best attempts to resist, Inos found himself falling victim to the same frustration which had plagued Maroc to distraction. Being reduced to a state of helpless isolation, forced to sit idly by while the tide of events washed over the world was truly insufferable...even for the normally placid Metocan.\n\nWithout the benefit of the vaunted Metocan prescience, the Inner Circle had been reduced to the role of blind sheep, sitting by in trepidation while the hungry wolves prepared to dine.\n\nThe thought of Maroc reminded Inos that he had not spoken with the Jerhia Tier Marshall for several days and he wondered just how his guest had been occupying his time.\n\nAs though carefully scripted, the answer to his question quickly resolved itself.\n\nA soft rap came upon his chamber door and Inos bid the knocker to enter. The heavy door swung open seemingly of its own volition and a young female adept quickly hurried into the chamber. She regarded Inos with an expression of undisguised awe. Hoping to set the girl at ease, Inos greeted her in a voice that was both kind and placating.\n\nShe blinked in surprise, perhaps expecting impatient ire in response to her intrusion. Instead, the leader of the Inner Circle offered the adept a disarming smile. \"What is your name, child?\"\n\n\"Sygeanor, reverence,\" the adept replied with a deferential bow.\n\n\"In what capacity do you serve the upper hall?\" Inos inquired.\n\n\"I have been assigned to Mascius,\" the girl replied simply and indeed the reply was sufficient explanation to convey the specifics of her situations. Mascius was one of Metocan's foremost scholars to whom the brightest of pupils were sent for indoctrination into the esoteric ways of Metocan culture. Those who survived his rigorous demands for discipline and devotion, not to mention his gruff, abrasive nature, usually found themselves designated for a seat on the Inner Circle.\n\n' _This Sygeanor must be a bright one indeed,'_ Inos reflected. \"How long have you been an adept, child?\"\n\n\"Three years, reverence,\" the girl replied. \"Mascius says that, should I remain suitably devoted to my studies, I should be elevated to the station of apprentice within the years.\"\n\n\"Most impressive, Sygeanor,\" Inos replied sincerely. Even the brightest of students normally required six years before they were elevated to apprentice. Mascius, who was a stickler for perfection, was loathe to advance anyone through the levels of the Teth...the Metocan hierarchy of education, even if their talents merited rapid advancement. He claimed that such advancement did not appear seemly and was conducive to hubris. The girl reacted to Inos' effusive compliment with a shy, yet obviously proud smile.\n\nDespite the fact that she had been here for three years, Inos could not recall having ever set eyes upon the girl before this afternoon...and yet he had delivered countless lessons to the school's pupils during this time.\n\n\"Sygeanor, where is your home?\" Inos asked, attempting to pose the question as casually as possible.\n\nEver perceptive, the girl could not help but detect a subtle shift in the elder's disposition. In response, her own expression darkened and became tentative. Quickly, she averted her eyes to the floor.\n\nHer reluctance to answer was a confirmation of his suspicions in itself, but still Inos persisted. \"Sygeanor, you have nothing to fear from me or any member of the Inner Circle. Tell me truthfully, where is the place of your birth?\"\n\nThe girl barely repressed the urge to bolt...now regretting having allowed Mascius to cajole her into meeting with the man who would be inclined to undo all that she had labored so hard to achieve. Still, the runes had been cast the moment she had stepped through the door and she was left will no choice but to offer total candor.\n\nStraightening, she forced herself to declare evenly, \"I am from Bastronen.\"\n\nInos' only external reaction was a slight pursing of his thin lips, though internally his mind reeled in response to the stunning implications of what the girl had revealed. Sygeanor's home was a small settlement in the province of Ulgak, the northern most territory of the Metocan state.\n\nIt had been Ulgaks who had attempted and barely failed to abduct Islena Doraux. Ulgaks were strictly prohibited from entering Othgol and under no circumstances could an Ulgak partake in an education in the arcane traditions of Metocan. As a people, the Ulgak were simply too violent and treacherous to be entrusted with arcane knowledge. In general, Metocan viewed Ulgaks as scarcely-tolerated and inferior cousins.\n\nThe girl's very presence in Othgol constituted high treason, not only on her behalf, but on the part of the venerable Mascius as well. The delicacy of this unexpected situation caused Inos to shudder.\n\n\"I'm sorry if my presence has given you offense reverence,\" the girl remarked in a tremulous voice. Inos glanced at the girl and saw that tears were glistening in her limpid gray eyes.\n\n\"Nothing about your presence could ever offend, Sygeanor,\" Inos assured the girl. \"It is imperative that you understand this and accept it at face value.\"\n\nJust then, another knock came at the chamber door, which then swung open as the caller did not bother to await a summons to enter. Mascius shuffled into the chamber, his normally dour face set in a contentious frown. He strode over to the pair, flashing a brief glance at Sygeanor before settling his attention squarely upon Inos.\n\nThe Metocan elder spoke to the professor in a refined form of soundless speech, but Mascius waved a dismissive hand impatiently. \"Speak freely...the girl's telepathic ability is without parallel...superior even to yours, Inos.\"\n\nInos flicked his gaze to the girl, who had once again averted her eyes to the stone floor in obvious discomfort. Something in her tense posture confirmed the sage's assertion.\n\n\"Very well,\" Inos began carefully. \"I trust that you understand that you have violated a multitude of edicts by bringing Sygeanor into Othgol...and the academy.\"\n\nThe irascible scholar scoffed at the notion. \"To think that a whelp such as yourself would deign to lecture me on protocol. Yes, I understand what I've done and offer no apology whatsoever. Our paranoia toward Ulgak is ludicrous and ultimately self-defeating.\"\n\n\"Be that as it may, it is still the law,\" Inos observed coolly.\n\n\"Then the law must be abrogated,\" Mascius exploded, his customary mordant wit giving way to open ire. \"A law that would ban Sygeanor from Metocan is tyrannical and could well lead to our undoing. I'm certain you believe I speak in hyperbole, but I assure you...I do not!\"\n\nSeeing little point in engaging in an acrimonious debate over the merits of the restrictions, Inos switched tactics. \"How is it that I've never noticed Sygeanor at the academy?\"\n\nMascius fixed the Metocan elder with a baleful glare. \"If you're inclined to be receptive...to actually hear as well as listen, I have a story to tell.\"\n\nInos gestured toward the table around which was arranged several chairs and indicated that they should all be seated. Sygeanor took the seat next to Mascius, her deportment one of beset nobility.\n\nOnce the three were comfortable, the scholar commenced the telling of his tale. \"I have a friend who spends a good deal of his leisure time in Ulgak and has for several years. There are many countries in this world where he would be considered a subversive, but I can assure you that he is not. Like me, he is a man consumed by the need to understand. During the course of his extensive travel, he heard tell of a girl who possessed phenomenal telepathic ability.\"\n\nMascius inclined his head toward Sygeanor. \"Upon actually meeting this girl, this friend quickly discerned that these claims were not unfounded. Upon his return to Othgol, he met with me and beseeched me to take her on as a pupil. Perhaps he had some inkling on how events would unfold in the west because I recall that he said that the day will come when she will prove to be invaluable in preserving our freedom.\"\n\n\"Afflicted by baseless prejudice, I was at first reluctant, but relented after much persuasion. Surreptitiously, I traveled to her home village and met with Sygeanor. It took only a single interview to confirm that she was truly exceptional. I convinced her to accompany me to Othgol, where I would teach her the esoteric ways of sorcery and the arcane arts.\"\n\nInos again pursed his thin lips in consternation. His first inclination was toward accusation of treason as it was indeed a grave offence to divulge the secrets of sage wisdom to a foreigner. Still, Mascius was a virtual repository of Metocan tradition and Inos doubted that he would impart an iota of knowledge in a manner that would be detrimental to his country. More pertinent still, could the Ulgak truly be perceived as a foreigner under any reasonable definition of law? He shifted his attention to Sygeanor, who possessed very few of the Ulgak customary features. \"You are not of pure Ulgak blood Sygeanor?\"\n\nThe girl met his gaze firmly and unblinkingly. In the frank regard, he could sense a deep well-spring of inner strength lurking just beneath that deceptively fragile exterior. \"My father was Metocan...though I was never afforded the opportunity of knowing him.\"\n\nInos nodded thoughtfully. \"How was it that your lineage was never discovered at the academy?\"\n\nIt was Mascius who answered in her stead. \"The girl never actually attended the academy.\" When the elder arched an eyebrow in surprise, the scholar elaborated, \"She has spent the last three years in my apartment, where I personally tutored her in the ways of sage craft and other arcane arts.\"\n\n\"By the Mother!\" Inos whispered, clearly grasping the stunning implications of what he had been told; the girl had spent the last three years as a prisoner. Nonplussed, Inos stammered, \"Why release her now....why expose her before she has completed her education?\"\n\nMascius looked to Sygeanor, deferring to the girl. She drew a tremulous breath and began to speak. \"The Ulgak have earned the scorn and distrust of their brethren Metocan through imprudent action. Still revered elder, I feel that it is unconscionable that an entire culture be deemed evil. I refuse to submit to the notion that we are inherently vile. I hope to serve as an example for my people and strive to earn the respect of Metocan.\"\n\nMascius interrupted her by gently patting her forearm. \"As Sygeanor revealed her mental acuity and her incredible telepathic talent, I began to groom her specifically toward membership in the Inner Circle.\"\n\nInos managed to master his shock...though barely. Many would view what the scholar was proposing as an extreme brand of heresy. An Ulgak...even in times of good rapport...had never served on the Inner Circle.\n\n' _Revered Elder, it may well be that the roots of Ulgak decay might lie in this very exclusion?'_ Sygeanor suggested without actually speaking as Inos' eyes widened. He had believed himself invulnerable to telepathy and yet the girl had easily breached his elaborate shield and read his thoughts.\n\nHe looked to Mascius, who was regarding him with an expression of amusement and quiet pride. \"As I've said, the girl is extraordinary.\"\n\nInos again shifted his gaze to Sygeanor. \"You divined my thoughts\"\n\n\"And all others from the first moment I entered this chamber,\" the girl admitted. \"Revered elder, the Metocan has always treated the Ulgak as inferior siblings, skulking about the edges of affairs from which they were always excluded. In some ways, your aloofness has forced our people to behave like children and seek attention through negative actions.\"\n\nInos found it difficult to contradict the inherent truth in this observation. Suffused by passion, the girl abruptly stood. \"Even in this time of dark crisis, my people have not been privy to your councils, yet do we not suffer the same prospective peril that hangs over the rest of the world like a penumbra? Will Myrhia be more lenient in dispensing her warped brand of justice to the Ulgak should she triumph?\"\n\nThe Metocan shook his head and answered, \"I would suspect not. Myrhia has not been inclined toward any manner of mercy thus far.\"\n\n\"We ask only to be consulted in matters and not treated as the enemy. The Ulgak can make a meaningful contribution if given the opportunity.\" Sygeanor stopped suddenly, her prominent chest heaving with passion.\n\n\"Which is precisely why I had Sygeanor come here,\" Mascius interrupted, taking up the thread of her argument. Inos looked questioningly to the scholar.\n\nMascius rose and bent over the desk, his limpid gray eyes shining intently. \"The Inner Circle failed to anticipate that its prescience would not extend across the Hiberas.\"\n\nInos grimaced. This failure had yet to be made public knowledge. \"How could you possibly know this?\"\n\nMascius merely inclined his head toward Sygeanor and Inos shook his head in utter incredulity. What the scholar was suggesting simply was not possible. Inos regarded the girl uneasily and she offered him an icy smile. \"When did you first become aware of this talent?\"\n\n\"Not long after I reached the age of five,\" she remarked with a casual shrug of her shoulders. \"The ability has grown exponentially since I reached maturity.\"\n\n\"How extensive is your power to divine thought?\" Inos demanded sharply, already knowing that it exceeded anything that he had ever encountered.\n\nThe Ulgak's considered response held another shocking revelation. \"I can penetrate the most reclusive of minds and surmount the most formidable of barriers.\" She paused and a glint of mirth stole into her large gray eyes, \"Even one as elaborately constructed as yours.\"\n\nInos blinked and then smiled, disarmed by her sly bit of irreverence. Turning to Mascius, he remarked, \"Why am I certain that there is a very specific purpose to this ploy of yours.\"\n\n\"Ah, always the perceptive one, Inos,\" the scholar quipped. \"Even during our days at the academy, I knew that you were destined for lofty heights. With the crystal of Thamius reduced to shards, the Metocan and her allies are blind, are we not?\"\n\nInos nodded tightly. \"The crystal is in the process of being reconstructed, though the work is painstakingly slow.\"\n\n\"Which brings me to the purpose of revealing Sygeanor at this precise juncture in time,\" Mascius explained. \"Hers is the talent to bring light to the Metocan darkness...a gift that you are hardly in a position to refuse...even if she is an Ulgak.\"\n\nInos merely arched an eyebrow, understanding perfectly just what the scholar was proposing, but staggered by the notion nonetheless. \"You're suggesting that Sygeanor actually possesses the ability to replace the crystal of Thamius...that her oracular ability is that immense?\"\n\n\"It is that immense,\" Mascius echoed simply, his gaze flicking affectionately to the girl who stood humbly at his side.\n\nFor a moment, the elder simply could not muster a coherent response. The implication of what the Metocan was suggesting was mind-boggling. Even the cumulative talent of the Inner Circle was fairly limited in the scope of its prescience without an oracular crystal to focus its collective ability. Mascius was implying that Sygeanor could surpass that combined talent without the benefit of a focusing lens. Inos was naturally skeptical...he doubted that even Myrhia possessed that degree of telepathic power. Still, if the scholars claims proved to be true...\n\n\"I trust that you have personally tested the scope of this ability?\" the elder inquired, unable to fully repress his mounting excitement.\n\n\"Yes and I can attest to its enormity. Sygeanor can quickly give you back what the enchantress has destroyed. Moreover, she will be a more effective tool of espionage as Myrhia will be unable to detect her presence.\"\n\nInos frowned and stroked his chin in contemplation. \"Sygeanor, there are infinite perils to be found when sailing the course of the spectral causeways, harrowing dangers that even we know nothing about, much less pretend to understand. If we were to utilize your talent, you would be sailing into dark and uncharted waters. Are you prepared to assume the inherent risks which would come with lending your talent to our cause?\"\n\nWithout even the slightest hesitation, the girl responded vehemently, \"Yes, I will heed my people's call.\"\n\nInos nodded gravely, his thoughts turning to how her enormous talents might be best utilized.\n\nOn this matter, Mascius again proved to be one step ahead of the elder. \"Am I wrong in saying that the Hiberas has proven to be an insurmountable obstacle in determining the course of events to the south and the west?\"\n\nAllowing a momentary glimmer of frustration to show, the elder frowned and offered a tight nod of affirmation. \"We've been unable to make contact with Emian and the party...the Hiberas is impenetrable as always. The rerouting has done nothing to diminish its effectiveness as a barrier.\"\n\n\"Then it could well be that the party is dead and our slim hopes along with it,\" the scholar surmised, articulating Inos' darkest fear. Again, the elder merely nodded, but was baffled when Mascius smiled broadly. \"Sygeanor will determine their whereabouts. Certainty is always preferable to helpless ignorance. The Metocan have the right to know if their future is to be lived behind the confines of that damnable river, ever dreading the day when that vile witch will find the means to ford it.\"\n\nInos turned to Sygeanor. \"Again, I must ask if you are prepared to assume the risks involved. It is impossible to predict what you may encounter on the other side of the Hiberas. The land of shades guards its secrets fiercely.\"\n\n\"Be that as it may, I will do whatever is required,\" the girl proclaimed to which Mascius beamed proudly.\n\n\"Very well, tonight I will convene an assembly of the Inner Circle. If you are still in agreement, it will be your task to locate the party and determine their status. As Mascius has so astutely observed, if our hopes are indeed without substance, we will have to develop contingency plans for our future.\"\n\n\"Ever the optimist,\" the scholar observed slyly, already rising to leave. Neither man noticed the intense expression that sat across Sygeanor's open features like a pall. \"If I might, I would have a private word with the revered elder.\"\n\nMascius arched an eyebrow at the suggestion, but complied, departing with a slight bow. The pair watched him leave in silence and when he finally closed the door of the elder's quarters, Sygeanor returned her attention to Inos, though now her gaze held an incisive edge that had not been in evidence during the course of their interview. Gone was the deferential shyness, giving way to a focus that spoke of strength of character. Clearly, Sygeanor was far more formidable than her initial impression had suggested.\n\nJust how formidable Sygeanor could be, Inos was about to discover.\n\n\"Mascius' estimation of my ability was in no way exaggerated,\" she declared flatly.\n\n\"For the sake of our world, I hope it is not,\" he countered, suddenly wary of the strange glint capering in Sygeanor's eyes.\n\n\"In fact, there aspects of my power about which he knows virtually nothing.\" Now Sygeanor's smile had twisted into decidedly unpleasant grin that evoked a shiver in the elder. For the first time, her Ulgak characteristics stood prominently forth.\n\n\"I trust there is a reason that you are apprising me of this now?\" he inquired in a deliberately icy tone.\n\nSygeanor's gray eyes flashed dangerously. \"It is only fitting that you know that my services will be well worth the price that I shall demand as remuneration for saving Metocan.\"\n\nInos blinked at the suggestion of a demand for payment, but managed to maintain a neutral expression, though any illusion that this was a mere ingénue quickly vanished. \"By all means, let us be candid...what will you demand should we accept your offer to aid your country in its hour of dire need?\"\n\nThe predatory grin flashed again, terrifying in its intensity. \"I have four specific conditions and you must agree unequivocally to each or my offer of aid will be withdrawn. Firstly, you must reopen Metocan to the Ulgak, removing all restrictions on the presence and activity in Othgol.\"\n\nInos frowned, but made no comment...instead gesturing for the girl to proceed. \"Secondly, you will immediately invite an emissary from Ulgak to sit on the Inner Circle. As the Ulgak survival is also at risk, the Ulgak will be consulted as an equal member in all affairs of state.\"\n\nThe elder shook his head in consternation. \"You over-estimate the scope of my power, Sygeanor. In a matter such as this, there must be unanimous agreement amongst the members. It will not be a simple matter to have the Council abandon its long held prejudice...especially in light of what almost happened to Islena Doraux when she first arrived in Othgol.\"\n\n\"Then you will simply have to work to convince them of the prudence of abandoning their foolish preconceptions,\" the girl declared flatly, making it exceedingly clear that she would accept no less.\n\nAgain the elder simply nodded, knowing that further argument was futile. Sygeanor stood and came around his desk, her gaze boring into his skull like a Jerhia lance.\n\n\"These are the demands that must be met immediately, but the final two require your personal oath. It may be some time before you are able to fulfill either...possibly not before the matter of the enchantress had been settled. I admonish you never to believe that you will be able to evade these obligations merely because the dark cloud of Myrhia's evil has dissipated.\"\n\nInos suddenly grimaced in pain then, his eyes narrowing into agonized slits as an infinitely powerful force brushed over the fabric of his mind. In the next instant, he found himself lying on the stone floor near the base of his working table, staring up into the girl's inscrutable face in open bewilderment.\n\n\"That was but a barely perceptible whisper,\" she informed the elder coldly. \"If necessary, I could crush your Inner Circle like nattering insects.\"\n\nCautiously, the elder regained his feet, never taking his eyes from the girl. \"If your power is as vast as all that, why not help us crush Myrhia?\"\n\nSygeanor shrugged, though her desultory attitude seemed entirely contrived to the elder. \"You obviously have no true concept of what it is you aspire to oppose by confronting the enchantress. She is a creature the likes of which this world has never seen. In terms of raw power, I am to her as you are to me, though the disparity is even greater. I would no more destroy the enchantress in an open confrontation that I could draw down the sun from the heavens. Still, I could be of enormous benefit in aiding your cause.\"\n\nInos considered this assertion for a moment. \"If Myrhia is the invincible juggernaut you claim her to be, why has she simply not breeched the Hiberas and laid Metocan to waste?\"\n\nThe Ulgak laid back her head and laughed...a harsh, derisive sound that grated on the elder's nerves. \"It amazes me that you know so little about your adversary, which is another reason you should comply with my demands. Territorial ambition in this world is low on the Queen's list of priorities. Conquest here is but a stepping stone to her true ambition of universal dominion. Even Myrhia is constrained by the rules that govern that universe. The Proclamations...and by extension, Islena Doraux...mean more to the High Queen than this antiquated world and thus she must pursue her deadly contest with the alien woman.\"\n\nSygeanor's insight into the world's dark dilemma was flawlessly astute and Inos could say nothing to dispute it. \"So you feel that Metocan is safe...that the enchantress has no immediate designs upon its sovereignty?\"\n\nThe girl's eyes sparkled brilliantly. \"Not unless the enchantress decides that one of the Proclamations is located somewhere within Metocan. Then, she would tear this country asunder to locate it. For the time being, I would feel confident in the assumption that she is too preoccupied with the matter of locating Islena Doraux.\"\n\nReluctantly, the Metocan conceded the point. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow and asked, \"You spoke of two other demands.\"\n\nSygeanor nodded tightly, her limpid gray eyes narrowing as she spoke, \"As I've said, my final two conditions will be honored at some point in the future...when this conflict is finally resolved. Firstly, you must vow to make me your personal apprentice...with the ultimate aim of grooming me to be your replacement as elder of the Inner Circle.\"\n\nInos gaped in open wonder, shocked by the audacity of her ambition. \"So you aspire to leadership?\"\n\nSygeanor's disconcerting gaze did not falter. \"Precisely, I intend to eventually rule Metocan as I rightfully should. With my vision and puissance, it is only fitting that I lead. Perhaps you find my aspirations and confidence grandiose and fired by hubris, but you will pledge your unwavering support nonetheless. In time, you will come to the realization that my confidence is well warranted.\"\n\nInos shook his head in incredulity, but realized that there was little point in disputing her contention or the legitimacy of her claim. In a society predicated upon magic, there was something logical in establishing its most powerful practitioner as its leader. \"Very well Sygeanor...from this day forth, you shall serve as my direct aide. You will have access to every aspect of the Inner Circle and be granted insight into its complex inner workings.\"\n\nSygeanor lowered her head in an oddly formal gesture of acceptance. Then her expression abruptly darkened. In the depth of her gaze, Inos glimpsed the presence of a turbulence and steel that was terrifying to look upon. \"My final condition is strictly personal, but it is perhaps the most compelling...\"\n\nInos tensed, correctly deducing that the girl's final condition would be the most complex and demanding. The Ulgak began to stroll casually around the chamber, but beneath the casual air, the elder could discern the girl's burgeoning tension as she asked, \"Do you have any inkling who my father might be?\"\n\nThe elder merely shook his head, though a terrible notion germinated in his thoughts even as he did.\n\nSygeanor abruptly spun around, her face livid with anger. \"Kyros was a patriot. His love of Metocan rivaled the most revered of elders and yet the monster that dispatched him lives still. You, in fact, are the man who directed her release...allowed her to walk free as if her vile deed was a trifling indiscretion.\"\n\nHer gaze bore into him like twin daggers, its accusatory edge cutting him to the quick. \"Sygeanor, you must appreciate the delicacy of the situation...\"\n\n\"What I must appreciate is that my father has been murdered and his killer runs free with the blessing of the Grand Mage and the Inner Circle,\" the girl roared, her complexion now hectic with barely constrained rage.\n\nInos raised a placating hand. \"Sygeanor, if you are ever to be a genuine leader, you must understand that you will be forced to make compromises...unless you intend to become a tyrant. At times, those compromises will carry abhorrent implications. Still, you will be required to make them in the best interest of Metocan. If you do not embrace this path, I assure you that your world will be one of turmoil and conflict.\"\n\nThe girl glowered in obvious disgust, but her posture suggested a willingness to at least listen. Inos inhaled sharply, trying to select the appropriate words to rationalize his decision to allow the tempestuous Lorio to go free. \"Technically, your father committed high treason by bringing the Ulgak to Othgol with the notion of abducting Islena. This Lorio is fiercely loyal to Islena Doraux and when she detected the plot against her friend, she acted with extreme prejudice to foil the scheme. Kyros was a victim of his own misguided machinations.\"\n\n\"It was never his intention to harm Doraux. He merely wished to bring her to Ulgak and once there, attempt to convince her to take up the quest for the proclamations.\"\n\n\"True as that may be, Lorio had no way of knowing exactly what was intended. You must remember that both Islena and Lorio had been the victims of repeated betrayal. At any rate, the Lamish warrior is not inclined to lengthy discourse.\"\n\nSygeanor spun away in obvious disgust, her shoulders trembling perceptibly. When she finally turned to face the elder, her expression was inscrutable and her voice dispassionate. \"Be that as it may, Kyros is dead and his only crime was zealous misjudgment.\"\n\n\"What is it that you require, Sygeanor?\" Inos inquired warily, partially dreading the answer.\n\n\"When this matter with the enchantress is settled, I want her delivered to me,\" the girl replied in a soft, but implacable tone. \"She and I will settle accounts.\"\n\nInos grimaced, revolted by the notion. \"Sygeanor, how can I realistically promise you that Lorio will be delivered to your keeping...even if I was so inclined?\"\n\n\"That, revered elder, will be your particular problem,\" Sygeanor retorted pointedly. \"When this is over, the murderer will be brought to me and I will dispense the justice that she deserves.\"\n\nThe girl fell silent as Inos settled into his seat, scarcely able to absorb the enormous ramifications of the girl's exorbitant set of conditions. \"Your ability may be extraordinary,\" the elder began cautiously, \"but how can I judge if they are in keeping with the high price you demand?\"\n\nThe girl favored the Metocan with a toothy grin. \"I suppose it is only fair that you be provided with a sample of what I can offer.\"\n\nThe girl pursed her lips in contemplation and Inos leaned forward expectantly. \"The Morticants have allowed Myrhia to conquer Jerhia and Natzurdan virtually unopposed. They appear invincible and essentially they are, but have you ever pondered the source of their origin and the power that fuels them.\"\n\nInos merely nodded, though his heart began to hammer in anticipation of an insight he felt certain was about to be imparted. Sygeanor slipped into the seat across the table from the elder, her incisive gaze settling upon the map of the eastern continent. \"Mascius spoke to me at great length on the subject of the infamous slave trains. He stated that it was one of the most deplorable aspects of Myrhia's reign of terror. It has always been assumed that the enchantress employees these slaves as a source of cheap labor in building her empire and supply the requisite materials for her war machine.\"\n\n\"That is the general assumption, yes,\" Inos concurred.\n\n\"One that is also incorrect,\" Sygeanor contradicted shrewdly. \"Myrhia has utilized her slaves and in frightening numbers, but not for the purpose of accruing wealth. The slaves have fed the voracious appetite of the mines of Redia.\"\n\nInos' eyes narrowed...his expression clearly dubious. \"What possible interest would she have in the mines of Redia? Myrhia does not seem like the type of woman inclined to hoard material wealth.\"\n\n\"Indeed, she is not. Myrhia is interested in power, but not the trapping that accompany it...that is one of the many reasons she is such a deadly adversary. No, her interest in Redia is purely practical. The mountains are rich in precious metals, but the mines yield a secondary product that is little known...blue clay.\"\n\nThe elder's lower mandible unhinged as the argent flame of epiphany erupted in his mind's eye, illuminating the horrific images of the relentless monstrosities that had so efficiently tore a swath through the western continent.\n\n' _By the Gods, can it really be that simple,'_ he wondered in astonished bemusement, grudgingly admiring the ingenuity and simplicity of the concept.\n\n\"And you discovered this through telepathy?\"\n\nSygeanor nodded with obvious pride. \"I've probed the eastern continent continuously since Islena Doraux rerouted the Hiberas. The east is in absolute disarray. Without Myrhia to exert her iron will, not to mention fist, over the rabble, her mercenary armies have taken to squabbling and looting like the rabid dogs they are. There have even been acts of sabotage and on a few rare occasions, acts of open rebellion. Meanwhile, the mines of Redia continue to produce her precious clay at a frightening rate. This clay is then sent south to Emercia, where it is stockpiled in the imperial palace in Nalosan.\"\n\n\"Stockpiled?\" Inos echoed in confusion.\n\n\"Yes, there is a massive mountain of luminous blue clay looming over the walls of the capital, where it awaits the process of ritual magic that will grant it life. As I have already conceded, the scope of Myrhia's ability far exceeds my own and I can divulge nothing of how the process of animation works...or more significantly, how it might be reversed. The Morticants are actually what is referred to as Golems.\"\n\n\"Thus, there is a reason why the Morticants have not been utilized or why the eastern continent has been plunged into anarchy,\" Inos exclaimed excitedly, taking up the thread of her thought. \"This could be attributed to Myrhia's preoccupation with capturing Islena Doraux or it could be that she is incapable of surmounting the Hiberas.\"\n\n\"I would suspect that the truth of the situation may lie in the middle ground between the two possibilities. Given time, I fear that Myrhia will find the means to surmount any obstacle. At any rate, this is but a snippet of the information that I can provide should you decide to meet my conditions...which are strictly non-negotiable.\"\n\nSygeanor gazed at the Metocan elder unflinchingly. Finally, he signaled his agreement with a tacit nod, to which the Ulgak beamed a satisfied grin. \"Very good revered elder. Bring my proposal to your council. If they agree to meet my terms, I shall attempt to locate your precious Islena Doraux.\"\n\nAgain, Inos' only response was a rather glum nod. With a lavish swirl of skirts, Sygeanor rose and left the elder alone with his turbulent thoughts.\n\nChapter Seven\n\n1\n\nA piercing shriek tore through the early morning stillness, rising to the cobalt blue sky in an escalating spiral that brought the party up from their fitful slumber with a panicked start.\n\nAll eyes fell upon the blue ball of iridescent light that hovered near the edge of the clearing like a miniature sun. It was from within this cocoon of pure energy that the harrowing cries originated...strangled screams of trepidation and rage that could only belong to Islena.\n\nLorio stood perhaps ten paces from the stricken Doraux and on this rare occasion, the normally unflappable warrior appeared totally disconcerted. She turned back to Emian with blazing eyes and flaring nostrils.\n\n\"What have you done to her, Metocan dog?\" she demanded angrily.\n\nEmian ventured closer to Doraux, clearly surprised by the disquieting spectacle. In A distant voice he explained, \"As I mentioned last night, the field draws its energy from the one it confines...that is its inherent beauty. The more frantic her struggles become, the more energy it will draw to contain her.\"\n\n\"By the Gods, surely this level of resistance will consume her?\" Lorio rasped, gripping the Metocan's forearm with bone crushing force. Emian's anxious expression confirmed her fear and she tossed him to the ground in disgust, vowing, \"If Islena should come to harm as a consequence of your stupidity, rest assured that I will extract an equal measure of suffering in her name.\"\n\n\"The energy field will release if she calms herself,\" the Metocan croaked, unable to draw his eyes from the thrashing whorls of light. \"Surely she cannot sustain this level of resistance for much longer.\"\n\n\"Imbecile! Do you have no concept of what she is?\" Lorio seethed, bending down and shaking the Metocan like a rag doll.\n\nArminda appeared to impose herself between the hybrid and the thrashing Metocan, her face contorted into a horrified frown. \"Lorio, stop this damnable hostility.\"\n\nLorio glowered at the Jerhia, but nonetheless complied and for several seconds, the five party members stood, speechlessly watching Doraux's futile struggles made all the more piteous by her heart-wrenching shrieks.\n\nAbruptly, Doraux ceased her struggle and the blue cocoon immediately guttered, settling into a glowing band of energy that enfolded her arms. Perspiration dripped freely from her lovely face which was twisted into a mask of black fury. \"Why have I been bound?\"\n\nThe words tore from her cracked lips, dripping with venom, lashing the party like a volley of physical blows. It was Arminda who assumed the burden of justifying the party's extreme actions.\n\n\"Please Islena, you must be calm,\" she began, trying to master her anxiety.\n\n\"Why am I bound?\" Doraux reiterated in a voice grown glacially cold.\n\n\"Do you have no recollection of what happened during yesterday's march, Islena?\" Arminda inquired, speaking in a deliberately soft voice so as to force Doraux to heed her words. Islena's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but some of the maniacal gleam had ebbed from her gaze.\n\nArminda interpreted this as a willingness to listen. \"Islena, the spider venom has afflicted your system. When in the grip of its virulence, you become violent...dangerously so. Yesterday, you came perilously close to slaughtering the party. Had it not been for Lorio's heroic intervention, you may well have succeeded.\"\n\nDoraux shifted her burning green-eyed regard to Lorio, who merely nodded. Islena sighed and then sat cross-legged upon the grass with her chin settling against her chest. Arminda approached Doraux and knelt cautiously next to the stricken woman. She saw that the alien woman's face was twisted and her eyes squeezed shut.\n\n\"Islena, please understand that we also desire to protect you from yourself,\" Arminda explained. \"The periods of lucidity are unpredictable and there is no warning that the poison is about to usurp control of your mind.\"\n\nDoraux glanced down at the narrow swath of blue energy that now enveloped her arms. Evenly, she asked, \"What have you done to me?\"\n\nThis time it was Emian who responded. \"It is a simply energy field that derives its power from your body. The harder you struggle to break free, the more power it will draw. You can see the genius of the concept...and rest assured that it will cause you no lingering harm.\"\n\nDoraux raised her head and peered about, finally locating the Dragonsword where it lay near Arminda's pack. Her eyes widened slightly and suddenly the weapon leapt into the air and drifted over to Doraux while the others scattered. She attempted to raise her arms to take it, but the energy field flared and held them fast to her chest. After a moment, Islena relented and the icon fell to the grass at her feet. She stared vacantly at the weapon for a moment and then nodded her head in apparent satisfaction.\n\nTurning to Emian, she offered the Metocan a wan smile. \"It looks like your system works. How long will I be forced to endure this restraint?\"\n\n\"There is no way of knowing, Islena,\" Emian confessed honestly. \"I can say only that it would be imprudent to release you until the last of the venom is purged from your system.\"\n\nDoraux frowned, though her gaze never faltered. \"And if the poison has taken up permanent residence in my system?\"\n\nEmian and Arminda exchanged troubled glances as Islena had just articulated their greatest fear. Doraux simply nodded and brushed past the pair, treading westward as though compelled by an inexorable force that could not be attenuated...even by despair.\n\nLorio watched her for several moments, her face inscrutable, and then she loped off to join her, remaining a pace or two behind Islena. Not long after, the others gathered up their meager possessions and quickly moved to follow.\n\nOnly Lorio was aware of the barely perceptible trembling of Islena's granite shoulders and realized that the diminutive beauty was weeping silently.\n\n2\n\n\"How do you interpret the continued absence of habitation?\"\n\nArminda blinked and glanced over at the Metocan, who had fallen in behind the Jerhia. She had been lost in a rare and wistful reverie of childhood reminiscence. She rarely allowed herself to think of Amrand...the pain of his death was simply too raw...too fresh to be endured. There was something about this alien place that seemed conducive to consideration of their formative years before the enchantress' cold shadow had fallen across the world, relegating happiness to the stuff of memory.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she stammered, momentarily perturbed by Emian's intrusion.\n\nThe Metocan repeated his question and the Jerhia considered the idea for several moments. \"Quite frankly, I don't know. In truth, everything we surmise about what might be across the Hiberas was rooted in pure speculation. Perhaps the idea that the Land of Shades might be a repository for lost souls was rooted in baseless conjecture. The only people we've encountered thus far have been the islanders and as Islena could readily attest, they were real enough.\"\n\n\"The Upper Lands seem entirely deserted,\" Emian contradicted mildly, glancing up the slope to where Islena and Lorio were about to crest the rise. \"If the Hiberas was not intended to separate the land of the living from the demesne of the dead, what purpose was it meant to serve?\"\n\nBoth reflected upon their preconceived notions pertaining to the mythical Land of Shades. Arminda shifted the Dragonsword from one shoulder to the other. \"I cannot help but wonder how much of our lives have been based upon following myths and misconceptions. I'm sure Emian you've realized that, irrespective of how our war with Myrhia is resolved, our world will be irrevocably altered...the myth of our supremacy forever dispelled.\"\n\n\"That it will,\" the Metocan concurred. \"What is more, I believe it will be the CornerStone Nations that will be the most profoundly effected by change. As you say...Myrhia has certainly dispelled the myth of our inherent superiority...our invincibility. Much of our credibility with the other nations will be lost.\"\n\nThe pretty Jerhia nodded tightly, her gaze happening upon her paralyzed arm. \"Perhaps it is just as well that we relinquish our delusions, Emian. They've grown far too extravagant to maintain.\"\n\nThe Metocan frowned. \"Still, the question of the Hiberas is one of consequence. If it was not meant as a barrier between the physical and spectral worlds, what purpose was it meant to serve? Is it not conceivable that it was a random occurrence of nature...an aberration?\"\n\nArminda mulled this over for several moments, her expression one of intense contemplation. As Emian watched her, he could discern the presence of a blossoming intellect. \"I think that the answer might be hinted at in something that Sormias told Islena. The Golgar revealed that the tower in Perdwick is exactly the same as the one from which he emerged. That leads me to surmise that our world is now very different from what it once was. Our history makes no mention of such creatures, so obviously something cataclysmic must have occurred to drive them into their monoliths. The creation of the Hiberas might have been a direct consequence of that upheaval.\"\n\n\"Sormias is a difficult individual to decipher,\" Emian observed and Arminda nodded her agreement.\n\n\"I'm not certain, but I think there is a depth to the Golgar that exceeds the limits of our sensibilities to grasp. On the surface, he seems possessed by a child-like innocence and a certain chivalry...but I don't think this is what motivates him to offer his service. Sormias believes that Islena is a mystical figure and it seems that he is fascinated by our kind in general.\"\n\n\"I would offer that he is not so enchanted with our Lorio,\" Arminda observed ruefully.\n\nBoth exchanged exasperated smiles and glanced up the hill to where the Lamish beauty stood next to Islena, near the crest of the incline. Something in their posture indicated an intense fascination with something concealed by the rise. Suddenly curious, the pair hurried to join the two women.\n\n\"Emian, were you able to gain any sense for the scope of the Golgar's power?\" Arminda inquired as they ascended the gentle rise.\n\nThe Metocan shook his head. \"Unfortunately not. The atmosphere of this place has occluded much of my perceptive abilities. Sormias remains as inscrutable as a sealed crypt. However, intuition tells me that his power is vast and diverse.\"\n\n\"Vast enough to rival Myrhia or her Morticants?\" Arminda asked as her blue eyes came alive with excitement. Emian considered her thoughtfully and seemed on the verge of providing an answer when the pair reached the spot where Lorio and Islena stood like matching pieces of statuary.\n\nAll considerations of the Golgar's potential power were immediately banished from their minds by the incredible spectacle that unfurled across the limit of their vision like a surrealist's nightmare.\n\nTransfixed by awe and an atavistic dread, both Emian and Arminda gaped with identical expressions of disbelief contorting their features.\n\n\"By all that is holy, is such a thing truly possible?\" Arminda muttered.\n\nLorio fixed the Jerhia with a withering glare of contempt that never failed to make the woman feel woefully inadequate. \"Are your eyes not functional, woman?\"\n\nThe hybrid returned her gaze to the heavens as the Emercian and Gillian finally reached the top of the rise. Even the addled Jerhia seemed unsettled by what he saw.\n\nStretched from the southern to the northern horizon, a looming bank of thunderheads, the grotesque color of an angry purple bruise, lay across the heavens like sack cloth. The mass seemed close, frantically roiling and writhing back upon itself like a churning tangle of snakes. Arminda imagined that this was how the sky might appear if the world was to end.\n\nAs disconcerting as the ominous heavens proved to be, it was not this that filled the six with primordial dread. Islena pivoted in place and gaped up at the sky behind the group...a sky that was flawless blue, unmarred by any hint of turbulence. The sky went from apocalyptic black to pristine blue without the slightest zone of transition. Instead, the point of demarcation between fair and foul appeared to have been drawn across the sky with the precision of a mathematician.\n\nThe sky was not the only aspect of the environment that had been subjected to this improbable and instantaneous transformation. The land to the east had been a verdant paradise alive with a teeming array of vegetation in greens so brilliant as to be blinding to behold. The eastern fringe of the upper lands struck Islena as a paradise unsullied by the destructive influence of human hands.\n\nBy stark contrast, what stretched before them to the west resembled a gothic horror landscape. What vegetation there was appeared dwarfed and twisted. The shocking greenery had given way to a sickly yellow. The trees were massive and stood to the tempestuous heavens like living statues...yet their trunks had been bent into grotesque shapes, imparting a brooding aspect of menace to the forest. Here and there, large tendrils of roots burst through the stony soil...mottled and gray like the flesh of a petrified snake.\n\nThere was another puzzling aspect to the general terrain...one that the hybrid quickly recognized. \"See how the grass is bent nearly to the ground...even the trees, despite their odd deformity, are bent in an easterly direction.\"\n\nTaking up the thread of Lorio's thought, Arminda remarked, \"One would almost have the impression that this terrain has been beleaguered by an incessant wind that has not abated in centuries. Yet the air is as still as the surface of a lake on a quiet summer afternoon.\"\n\n\"Where we stand, perhaps...but not there,\" Doraux disagreed, pointing to a patch of sallow grass lest than ten feet west of where they stood. The thigh high stems were virtually bent back upon themselves.\n\nArminda drew a tremulous breath. \"Emian can you draw an empathic sense from this place?\"\n\nThe Metocan turned his troubled face toward the young Jerhia. \"Even with dulled perceptive ability, I can tell you that what lies ahead is inimical, though how specifically, I cannot determine. It is possible that what we are seeing is the full extent of the obstacles that this land will raise to ward its integrity. Then again, it could also be that there is an element of intelligent purpose to the threat it may pose.\"\n\nLorio uttered a vile curse and kicked at the grass. \"It seems that your newfound winged comrade has again failed to alert us to yet another potential danger.\"\n\n\"It could well be that Sormias has no real understanding of what might pose a menace to our kind,\" Arminda suggested.\n\nLorio wheeled upon the Jerhia, her dark eyes ablaze. \"If you wish to lay claim to the mantle of leadership, then begin to think dispassionately and not with the sensibilities of a schoolgirl. We know nothing of the creature or his motivations and personal designs upon our party. Until we do, it is simple prudence to assume that he is hostile.\"\n\n\"Mistrust and suspicion seems to come naturally to you, Lorio,\" Arminda challenged. \"From my naive perspective, antagonizing a creature like Sormias is far from prudent.\"\n\nThe two women glared at each other, but finally Lorio nodded tightly and rasped, \"Very well, but do not be surprised if Sormias eventually entraps us in whatever treacherous web he is weaving.\"\n\nThe hybrid then spun and stalked off to rejoin Islena. Arminda shook her head in exasperation and turned to Emian. \"What do you recommend?\"\n\nThe Metocan turned his limpid eyes westward, an involuntary shudder rippling across his broad face. Peering over this troubled landscape was very much like gazing into the depraved mind of a madman. \"I see no way to circumvent this obstacle and so we are left with little choice but to go through it.\"\n\nArminda nodded and started forward, but Islena quickly moved to intercept the Jerhia. Her flat, inaccessible expression chilled the Jerhia in ways that she could not entirely articulate. \"Release me, Arminda.\"\n\nThe Jerhia looked uncertainly to Emian. She could sense Doraux's incisive gaze boring into the side of her skull. Even Lorio had moved back to join the pair, privately amused and intrigued by Arminda's obvious discomfort.\n\n\"Islena, I'm afraid that I cannot comply,\" Arminda began cautiously. \"You must understand that we cannot risk a recurrence of yesterday's incident.\"\n\nSomething sly stole into Islena's emerald eyes...as subtle as a shadow in twilight. \"If I remained bound and a serious threat does befall the party, how do you propose to deal with it? The Dragonsword is still our best protection.\"\n\nThe logic of Islena's incident was irrefutable, but Arminda had caught a fleeting glimpse of that shadow and simply shook her head. \"I'm sorry Islena, but your bonds must remain until we can say conclusively that the virulence has been purged from your system.\"\n\nDoraux's face remained impassive, but the Jerhia sensed pure malevolence lurking just beneath that façade and derived a small measure of comfort that she had made a prudent decision.\n\nAfter a protracted moment, Islena shrugged her shoulders indifferently and turned away without further argument. Arminda's eyes slid over the Dragonsword, the rubies of which gleamed malefic red. On unsteady legs, the youthful Jerhia led the party over the threshold and into darkness.\n\n3\n\nThe mystery of the undulating grass and the deformed trees resolved itself within the first three paces into the shadow zone. The temperature beneath the clouds was possibly ten degrees cooler than it had been in the sunshine. While the wind howled like a banshee gone insane, it abruptly ceased when it reached the eastern extreme of the turbulent zone.\n\nThe gale blew out of the west with such terrifying intensity that several of the party members staggered under its assault. Beneath the roiling penumbra of cloud, the heavens appeared even more disconcerting. The very air seemed to speak of seething rage and petulant malice.\n\n\"Does anyone else hear that sound?\" Islena cried above the tumult of the booming wind. The others glanced toward Doraux, while struggling mightily to retain their balance. She repeated her urgent question and the five began to listen as one and gradually each became cognizant of the high whine that was couched beneath the scream of the wind.\n\nArminda turned her inquisitive gaze upon Emian who responded with a helpless shrug. Conversation was virtually impossible beneath the incessant drone and so the party bent and trudged westward...quickly becoming enervated by the simple act of walking while bent nearly parallel to the ground.\n\n' _How in God's name could Sormias fly through this?'_ Islena wondered distantly. It occurred to her that Lorio had been correct in her assertion of how little the group actually understood about their improbable new companion. Like everything else in this stupefying, strange world, Sormias was a hieroglyph and a potential danger as a consequence of that very mystery. Islena shook her head and sighed. She was aware of the venom working its vile magic just beyond the edges of her consciousness...furtively attempting to insinuate itself into her mind and gain control of her body. Grimly, she fought to resist it by focusing upon its malign presence and willfully struggling to hold it at bay.\n\nGrimly, the party labored along and as they did, many of the oddities of this warped land revealed themselves. The most conspicuous of these oddities lay in the quality of the soil, which appeared dull gray and totally devoid of vitality. Lorio paused at one point and stooped down to retrieve a handful of the sterile soil. Even to her heightened hybrid's touch, this dirt felt cool and repulsive as though it was composed of bone meal.\n\nThe party crowded around the statuesque Lamish beauty, who held the dirt out and allowed it to run freely through her fingers where it was snapped up and scattered by the wind. Screaming to be heard, she remarked, \"It seems improbable that anything could grow in this...even this sickly yellow grass...and definitely not these massive trees. This dirt is completely sterile and feels suffused with moisture and certainly these clouds are evidence of that.\"\n\n\"Yet, it seems that it hasn't rained here for a considerable time,\" Arminda interrupted, clearly perplexed and disturbed by the anomaly.\n\n\"Quite obviously something is nourishing this vegetation,\" Islena rasped irritably. Still bound, her arms strapped uselessly across her chest, she marched over to the nearest protruding root and stooped down to examine it more closely. Upon closer inspection, Doraux noticed that the bark of the exposed root had a distinctly armor-like appearance as if the trees had been fabricated from a dull gray metal. Peering up the length of the massive trunk, she observed that the underside of the leaves were as black as a starless midnight sky, each bisected by thin lines that glowed a dull red in the purplish gloom. To Islena's afflicted vision, there was something vaguely repulsive and dreadful about the horrible leaves. Shivering in disgust, Islena pushed herself to her feet.\n\n\"Instinct warns me that there is something fundamentally wrong with this place, though I can't identify specifically what.\" She cast a keen gaze upon the other party members. \"Whatever is inside of me is attempting to warn me that there are hostile forces coalescing here...forces that will not greet our presence with open arms. We have to move quickly.\"\n\nNo one seemed inclined to disagree and the party quickly resumed its westward trek.\n\n4\n\nWhen the inevitable moment of confrontation finally came, it did so with brutal alacrity that was bewildering and very nearly fatal for the entire party. The sibilant hiss that had arisen just after the group's inspection of the sterile soil continued to swell until it surmounted even the incessant drone of the wind.\n\nDoraux stopped suddenly, her body transfixed in a posture of listening. The sibilance mounted in pitch and volume until it became virtually intolerable. Arminda clamped her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as the incisive whine burrowed into her skull. It was not long before the others followed suit, with the exception of Lorio, who gazed about in a rigid posture of expectation.\n\nA ghastly tearing sound...like flesh being rent under pressure...reached Lorio's keen ears scant seconds before the first armor-plated tree limb tore free of the sterile earth.\n\nImmediately, the Lamish warrior perceived the precise nature of the threat which this dreadful place posed to the party and understood what furnished the vegetation with its nourishment.\n\nBlood!\n\nThe forest was parasitic in nature, which went a long way toward explaining why the hulking trees appeared so vital under such inimical circumstances. Still, how could these hulking monstrosities survive with the apparent dearth of tangible flesh from which to draw sustenance? That simple question bred a myriad of others in its wake, most concerning the nature of the indigenous creatures that might inhabit this alien place.\n\nAll of this flashed through Lorio's efficient mind in the blink of an eye, even as she reacted to this latest threat.\n\nTrue to her sworn purpose, she darted over to Doraux, literally picking the woman from her feet and carrying her just out of range of the probing limb.\n\nThe root had pulled entirely free of the restraining soil, now exposed to its trunk, and reared up like a blind cobra questing for its quarry. The terminal end of the root was blood red and lethally sharp. Quite clearly it had evolved into an instrument for drawing the precious fluid that gave it life.\n\nLorio placed the helpless Doraux directly behind her and drew her quarter staff, though she correctly deduced that it would have little effect against the monolithic trees. The others also drew their weapons and drifted instinctively into a protective circle with Emian and Islena at its center.\n\nArminda raised her modified crossbow, not certain what to target. She could feel the constraint power of the Dragonsword as it reached out to its master and was aware of the rubies as they blazed into life, clamoring to respond to the danger.\n\n\"I'm certainly open to suggestions,\" she cried, but her words were torn to tatters by the howling wind. Now the gale began to blow in spirals, raising the lifeless gray dust in scouring sheets that forced the party members to shield their eyes.\n\nThe Jerhia screamed as a thick branch dipped down from the nearest tree, smashing down upon her wrist and swatting her crossbow to the dirt, where it was quickly buried by the shifting sand.\n\n\"Release me and give me the Dragonsword!\" Islena demanded, though her voice was possessed of an eerie calm. \"If you don't, then we'll all die here.\"\n\nThe truth of this was irrefutable and Arminda immediately turned to the Metocan. \"Do it, Emian.\"\n\nThe Metocan moved to comply just as the tap root struck the Jerhia another glancing blow which threw her to the shifting dirt with a muffled grunt. As she attempted to scramble to her feet, the tap root darted toward the girl with the intention of impaling her thigh.\n\nLorio struck with the speed of an adder, bring the razor edge of her staff down on the lethal tip. There followed a harrowing squeal and a deluge of viscous crimson sludge. The hybrid reached down and dragged the Jerhia to her feet before she could be buried beneath the shifting dirt.\n\nThe severed tap root trembled and thrashed wildly like a beheaded snake and then underwent a radical desiccation, literally turning to dust in a matter of scant seconds.\n\nAt the center of the protective circle, Emian laid his hands on the energy field and uttered a series of esoteric phrases, all of which sounded like so much gibberish to the impatient Islena. There followed a vivid argent flare and the faint blue mantle abruptly vanished.\n\nIslena spent several seconds attempt to flex some feeling back into her powerful arms. Emian regarded her carefully, not caring for the hooded expression in her eyes of the faint smile that played at her lips. There was a cunning aspect to that grin that caused the Metocan to immediately regret his action.\n\nLorio had succeeded in destroying one root, but now the trees about them, sensing the proximity of living sustenance, began to break free from the earth and converge upon the beleaguered party. The dirt dervish became frenzied until the tiny granules of sand bit into exposed flesh like miniature daggers.\n\nShielding her face, Doraux bent forward at the waist and struggled toward the still dazed Arminda, knowing that she had to reach the Jerhia before one of the vampire branches reached her first. If the Jerhia icon was lost, the party would inevitably fall victim to whatever evil force possessed this place.\n\nAfter several moments of groping blindly, her hand fell upon Arminda's right shoulder, before settling onto the haft of the long sword. There followed a brilliant flaring of vermillion light and the level of chaos in the clearing cycled up a further notch.\n\nPerceiving a threat, the branches converged upon Islena in a frenzy in an attempt to separate the sword from its wielder. Raving like an enraged beast, Doraux hacked furiously at the blood roots, which withered and died in great gluts of crimson sludge.\n\nMethodically, Islena began to moved toward the nearest monolithic tree, crying for the others to follow tight in her wake. Staggering and sputtering, they stumbled after her, all desperately fighting to avoid the probing branches which assailed them from all sides. Lorio and Islena fought with the deftness of life-long combat veterans, efficiently hacking at the foliage, which fell, withered and died like wheat before a scythe. Even Nymal managed to acquit himself fairly well, protecting both Gillian and the still-dazed Arminda.\n\nThe trees, lacking the faculty of sight, still seemed to possess the uncanny ability to detect and react to motion. The frenetic efforts of the party attracted the branches and roots in droves, very much in the same way that Islena's outpouring of energy had drawn the hordes of giant spiders on the face of the great rock wall.\n\nIt was the ever astute Lorio who perceived the relationship between movement and attraction first and she bellowed, \"Emian and the rest of you...stay utterly still. These abominations are drawn to motion. Move only if directly threatened. Islena and I will destroy the trees.\"\n\nHer voice rang with such a keen note of authority and implacable confidence that the four fell abruptly still as though they had been inured by foul sorcery. The thrashing roots immediately stopped their relentless questing, their unseeing tips peering around in the gloom like malefic red eyes, confirming that Lorio's deduction had been correct.\n\nSlowly and inexorably, Islena began to make her way closer to the nearest trunk as pure energy tore from the Dragonsword in vermillion bolts. Soon the air of the battle site reeked with the intermingled stench of burning wood and boiling blood. A section of root some eight inches in diameter darted directly at Islena's abdomen, but she lithely danced to her left and cut the tip off in one fluid motion.\n\nIn the chaos of the battle, only the unflappable Lorio retained enough presence of mind to realize that Islena was functioning entirely under the sway of the virulence.\n\nHer lovely emerald eyes had turned ebony black.\n\n5\n\nAs Islena's dervish of destruction progressed beneath the umbrella of the upper branches, the grotesque black leaves began to fall in a constant shower, though none of the members were immediately cognizant of the threat they posed.\n\nStill dazed, Arminda inclined her head in time to see the first of the leaves land upon the Emercian's forearm. His reaction was immediate and emphatic...an agonized shriek tore from his twisted lips as he gazed at his forearm in horrified astonishment.\n\nUpon contact, the leaf had abruptly burst into flame and had begun to consume the exposed flesh with rapacious greed. The soldier held his dissolving arm up before his bulging eyes, his harrowing cries rising above the general din of the battle and the howl of the wind.\n\nThe others gaped helplessly at the tormented Emercian, transfixed by his misery even if they could not discern its apparent cause.\n\nHis outcry and frantic flailing drew the attention of several of the tap roots and their lethal tips converged upon him in a blood-inspired frenzy. Before the others could reach the stricken trooper, Doraux was beside him, dispassionately bringing the Dragonsword down on his ravaged arm in a great sweeping arc, cleanly severing the limb just below the elbow. The Emercian howled a cry of argent agony even as the long sword cauterized the massive wound. His mouth worked wordlessly, a silent protest welling up in his bulging throat just as his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed to the sterile dirt in a boneless sprawl.\n\nFunctioning with a mechanical precision, Doraux pivoted to confront the legion of vampire roots, dismissing the Emercian from her mind even before he had hit the ground. Her lethal blade cut the dull air like a scythe and soon a score of branches lay decomposing in the gray dirt at her feet.\n\nBehind the chosen, Emian had hauled the Emercian to his feet and along with Arminda and Gillian, began to pull the unconscious man to open ground.\n\n\"Islena, we've got to reach the trunk,\" Lorio roared above the cataclysmic din of the battle. \"See how the roots are regenerating.\"\n\nDoraux required only one brief glance to see how new roots were burrowing toward them from the base of the massive trunk. Bellowing an inarticulate howl of rage, she raised the Dragonsword above her head and began to swing it about in a great whistling circle, gaining force and momentum as she went.\n\nThe deeply striated muscles in her arms and shoulders stood forth in sharp relief as she labored and her eyes burned like ebony suns. About her head, vermillion fire crackled and hissed like the stirring of some massive beast.\n\n\"Down Arminda!\" Lorio's admonition sent the four scrambling for the dubious safety of the ground, just as the Dragonsword's power radiated out from where Doraux stood, expanding like ripples in a dormant pond. The hybrid narrowly avoided being incinerated by the swelling tide of power, landing face first in an awkward sprawl.\n\nIslena continued to rage even as the vermillion puissance rolled forth like a tidal wave. The falling leaves were absorbed by the umbrella of energy as effortlessly as the ocean might embrace a scattering of pebbles. Finally, the outer edge of the cyclone made contact with the trunk of the nearest tree, sheering it cleanly off some six feet from the base.\n\nA grating whine tore through the air, followed by a harrowing screech of pure agony and the three hundred foot tree toppled like a fallen giant.\n\n\"By the Great Mother, she has brought it down upon us!\" Arminda exclaimed even as she scrambled frantically through the loose dirt. Yet her apprehension proved baseless as the tons of living wood erupted into a blinding column of argent flame, which reduced it to smoldering curls of ash before it could even make impact with the forest floor. The four party members gaze up on stunned wonder as the gray ash drifted languidly down upon them like vile snow.\n\nOnly Islena appeared oblivious to the catastrophic destruction of the massive vampire tree. She continued to spin the mighty blade, her entire torso rotating like the center of an ever-expanding hurricane and as her immutable fury spewed forth, more of the mighty trees fell victim to the Dragonsword, until it seemed that the entire world reeked with the acrid stench of living wood being consumed.\n\nArminda viewed Islena's storm of destruction from the ambivalent perspective of awe and revulsion, scarcely able to discern any trace of the woman whom she had first met during their desperate flight to the Hiberas. The creature before her dispensed death and decimation with the casual ease of a malign goddess, and for the first time (though certainly not the last) the incisive Jerhia wondered if they were unwittingly helping to create an evil far greater than the one they sought to destroy.\n\nThus distracted, she nearly failed to detect the low vibration thrumming through the earth beneath her feet. Deeply inculcated Jerhia instinct finally broke her reverie and sent her rolling to her left a mere instant before a form burst from the ground at the precise spot she'd just vacated.\n\nThe bloom was an indistinct column of black, viscous gel that reminded the Jerhia of a mixture of crude oil and glistening clay.\n\nAll around her, Arminda could peripherally hear other horrified cries and knew that this was not the only grotesquerie that was being birthed by this vile, corrupted earth.\n\nNow the metaphor of child birth revealed itself to be entirely appropriate as the gelatinous substance began to flow like heated candle wax, gradually resolving into a form that was vaguely recognizable as human. Its appendages were grossly disproportionate to its hunched torso and the black lump that served as its head possessed no distinguishable features...except for a gaping maw. Arminda's attention was drawn to the ring of crooked incisors that gleamed like freshly forged iron spikes.\n\nIts elongated arms and legs bestowed upon the entity a gangling posture that might have been comical if not for the deceptive quickness of its movements. Arminda's fraught mind drew the automatic comparison between these ebony horrors and the creatures that had attacked the party on the river during their hellish trek through the lowlands.\n\n\"Don't let these things touch your flesh, Emian,\" she warned, at the same time realizing that there was little she could do to prevent this grim eventuality. As she stumbled back into the Metocan, it suddenly occurred to her just how utterly ludicrous...how woefully inadequate...this group of would-be saviors truly was. She had lost her weapon earlier in the fray, and as she stood defenseless before the slavering ebony entity, the full debilitating weight of her infirmity crashed down upon her, shackling Arminda with a paralyzing despair that froze her where she stood.\n\nArminda closed her eyes and bowed her head, prepared to accept the horror's lethal embrace, sorry only that she had failed her beloved brother. Seconds passed and when the killing blow did not come, she reluctantly opened her eyes, puzzled by what she saw. The nearest creature had come to an abrupt halt and though it lacked the facial features to adequately convey the emotion, something about its rigid posture suggested total confusion. Bemused, Arminda blinked and glanced back over her shoulder to find Emian regarding her with a slight grin, though his face reflected the strain of maintaining the illusion he had woven.\n\n\"This placed has diminished my powers,\" the Metocan declared between gritted teeth, \"but it has not effaced them completely.\"\n\nOutside the circle of Emian's enchantment, Lorio flung herself against a cluster of ebony earth spawn with the ferocious abandon that had come to symbolize the Lamish beauty. Doraux continued to wield the scythe of power, defoliating a huge swathe of wicked earth. The vermillion cyclone continued to run amok until the vampire forest had been reduced to ash for a hundred yards in each direction.\n\nAs quickly as it had been unleashed, Doraux's violent outpouring suddenly ceased. She stood surveying the carnage, her full chest heaving as she sucked in great gulps of air, while her black eyes whirled and twirled with a lunatic's gleam that otherwise did not reflect on her impassive face. Gradually, the ebony virulence drained from Islena's green eyes, restoring their customary brilliant luster.\n\nHer expression and posture conveyed the impression of confusion, as though she'd been curiously absent during her rampage of the last few minutes.\n\n\"Islena!\"\n\nLorio's exigent cry of warning shattered Islena's reverie, alerting her to the hint of movement a fraction of a second before one of the ebony horror's could close upon her exposed back. Deftly, Islena pivoted in place and brought the Dragonsword up in a whistling arc that efficiently separated the attacker's legs from its torso. Black gore hissed and spewed over the grass in a fan. As Doraux watched, the body liquefied and vanished in to the earth.\n\nBrandishing the sword, Islena instinctively gravitated toward Lorio. The black entities had formed a loose circle around the pair, their alien faces alive with a vapid, rapacious need that was indescribably repellent. Back to back with her Lamish companion, Islena suddenly experienced a moment of soaring elation so intense that she actually emitted an ululating war cry.\n\nIt was the thrall of the eternal warrior that took her then. She gleaned this in the visceral thrill that coursed through her flesh...a surging excitement that very closely resembled unbridled lust. She welcomed the battle, despite the monstrous tide that now menaced the party and for a woman who had long professed abhorrence toward violence, the latest revelatory insight was astounding.\n\nDoraux waited until the ranks were within striking distance and then she swept the blade before her in a tight horizontal arc, unleashing vermillion death in a wave that vaporized a swathe of the ebony attackers. The air hissed with boiling steam that rose into the deepening purple gloom like mist.\n\nFully absorbed in the task of systematic slaughter, Islena failed to discern what Lorio immediately perceived...as violent as Islena's attack might be, ultimately it was in vain.\n\nThe gel, she correctly deduced, was only an extrusion of a greater mass of formless energy, which dwelled somewhere in the deep recesses of the earth. These ebony entities were not animate beings and thus they could not truly be killed. They could only be vaporized, after which they would be absorbed by the earth to return to the host...where they would be raised anew.\n\nSuch relentless aggression would eventually prove successful in wearing down the most determined defense.\n\nIf the party had any hope of surviving this encounter, it would be necessary to destroy...or at least, discourage...the source of this evil.\n\n\"Islena, turn the Icon upon the soil...the earth itself. Hold nothing back!\" Doraux flicked an inquisitive glance over her shoulder and seeing the tense, emphatic set of Lorio's dark eyes, moved to comply without the slightest hesitation. Her compliance spoke eloquently about the extent to which she trusted the Lamish warrior's instincts, but she had no time to give it thought.\n\nRaising the Dragonsword above her head, she lithely reversed the grip and drove the blade deep into the gore-spattered earth. She then closed her eyes and concentrated on focusing the full efficacy of the Icon's might upon the belligerent earth.\n\nThe effect was both incredible and instantaneous.\n\nDoraux stiffened and her back arched until it seemed inevitable that her spine would simply break. She uttered a primal howl as though every fiber of her powerful body was being ripped asunder. A cocoon of translucent vermillion light enveloped her in a mantle of protective energy to ward her against the cataclysm that followed.\n\nThe Icon thrummed in Doraux's steady grip, conducting the cumulative might of an entire race along the tempered steel blade and into the hostile earth.\n\nThe gray sand lifted to the heavens in great scouring sheets, literally tearing the ebony menaces to a fine mist and plunging the world into a pervasive darkness. Fully exposed to the ravages of the elements, only Lorio was immediately affected by the dervish, which swept her from her feet as if she was little more than a sack of rags. She landed heavily in a twisted sprawl a dozen yards from where she had first stood. Instead of attempting to rise, she pressed her face into the earth and wrapped her arms protectively about her head, hoping to survive the maelstrom.\n\nStripped of its shallow layer of gray soil, the earth beneath revealed itself to be a dull, malefic brown that reeked of decay and putrescence.\n\nDoraux saw none of this as she continued to loose the full force of the Dragonsword upon her enemy. Above the deafening roar, it came to her that she was laughing...shrieking, hysterical gales that reverberated with madness. A still rational part of her mind was appalled by her lunatic reaction, but the visceral part of her flesh seemed to revel in the rampant destruction.\n\nA low, subterranean rumble welled up out of the ground, thundering through the gritted-clogged air like a frantic cry of negation. It shook the earth with such ferocity that Emian's protective cocoon collapsed, spilling the three party members to the earth next to the fallen Emercian. They struggled to scramble to their feet, but the violent upheavals made standing erect virtually impossible and so they simply knelt on the repulsive earth, being flipped about like small ships on a storm-racked ocean.\n\nOnly Islena Doraux remained upright, her powerful legs spread wide and her body inclined slightly forward so as to stabilize her weight along the length of the Dragonsword.\n\nThe rumble became a strident whine, the pitch of which quickly became intolerable, tearing into ears and flesh with the keen insistence of a needle.\n\nArminda clamped her hands to her ears and prayed for a merciful end to the tumult, knowing that she could not endure much more of this vortex with her sanity in tact.\n\nWishful prayers aside, the chaos rolled on like an avalanche, intent of leveling the very world.\n\nThe scream (and now Doraux was certain that this was precisely what she was hearing) finally broke the surface, rupturing the earth in a thousand eruptions of dirt and stone. Gaping chasms quickly spread across the once solid ground, until the party appeared to be caught in the midst of a giant spider's web. One of these opened only scant inches from where Gillian lay. The Jerhia swordsman tottered on the edge of the abyss, but when it appeared certain that he would be swallowed, Arminda snagged his collar and the pair rolled away.\n\nIn the distance, trees that had stood...brooding and predatory...for countless centuries, suddenly burst into flame until every horizon was ablaze.\n\n\"By all that is sacred, she means to destroy the entire world!\" Emian cried in horror, his gaze sweeping over the incredible carnage in moon-eyed incredulity.\n\nDiscerning what Islena intended to achieve, Lorio amended, \"Not destroy it, Metocan...she means to heal it.\"\n\nThe earth beneath their feet gave one final convulsive shudder and then settled, the howl of the wind giving way to a looming, uneasy silence.\n\nFor several moments, no one stirred. Lorio was the first to cautiously raise her head, gazing warily over the field of destruction, where a forest had been only short moments before. She rose and walked slowly over to Islena, who had withdrawn the sword from the earth and stood staring down at the ground as a satisfied grin played at her lips.\n\nLorio came to a halt just behind her right shoulder and remarked evenly, \"A most impressive display.\"\n\nDoraux merely glanced up at the hybrid and offered the taller woman a knowing grin. The emerald green eyes were now bisected by jagged vertical slashes of ebony that declared the dominant presence of the virulence.\n\n\"I know exactly what you are,\" Islena murmured in a soft, yet disdainful voice. Lorio blinked in confusion and the alien before her grinned more broadly still. \"She's mine...remember that, deviant...she's mine!\"\n\nMomentarily nonplussed, Lorio turned away just as the others approached the pair, every face branded with an identical expression of dazed wonder. Lorio automatically raised her quarterstaff, prepared to lash out at the four. In their present state of slightly disoriented shock, they would be easy to slaughter and perhaps it was time to bring this charade to a conclusion. If she succeeded in subduing Doraux, there was a good possibility that Myrhia would possess the means to exorcise the demons from Islena's mind and soul.\n\nThese thoughts flashed through Lorio's mind in the blink of an eye, only to evaporate when Islena collapsed to the ground in an unconscious sprawl.\n\nChapter Eight\n\n1\n\nA full conclave of the Inner Circle was always occasion for great excitement in Othgol...even in times when the tide of events did not seem so unrelentingly bleak. In the months since Myrhia's engine of conquest had landed upon the western continent, these gatherings of the Inner Circle were looked upon with an air of expectation, tempered with dread.\n\nUnfortunately, the prior conclaves had produced only disappointment for the average Metocan citizen and the masses of refugees who looked to the Metocan mages to produce a miracle that would extricate them from the enchantress' vice.\n\nWith the coming of darkness to the Metocan Capital, a thick fog swirled through its streets and promontories, shrouding the city in mystery. Word that a special conclave was about to be convened spread through the city, which was swiftly suffused by an air of expectant tension. It was soon commonly knowledge that it had been Inos himself who had convened this session...and that he had refused to divulge the purpose of the impromptu meeting before hand.\n\nAs had been the case since the Hiberas was diverted, the people of the once great Cornerstone nation were required to sit back and wait impatiently while a small handful of their elders decided their fate.\n\n2\n\nWhen the last member of the Inner Circle had assembled in the great chamber, word was conveyed to Inos, who donned the ceremonial regalia of his station and along with Sygeanor, went to convene what he knew would be the most tumultuous session ever held within the walls of the great chamber.\n\nHe did not engage the girl in conversation as they walked along, nor did she attempt to speak. She walked with her face forward and her head held high, her expression reflecting the subtle aura of confidence that seemed to surround her like a corona.\n\nAs they approached the massive outer doors, which had been rendered in ornate script centuries before, Inos observed, \"This is not a given matter, Sygeanor.\"\n\nHer glance shifted briefly to meet his and then slid back to the great doors. \"Evoke the image of all that stands to be lost and I'm certain that you will find the inspiration to convince your brethren of the expedience of acceding to my demands.\"\n\nWithout further discourse, the pair strode into the great hall. Inos conducted Sygeanor to the seat that had been reserved for her, arranged at the foot of the raised dais so that the petitioner would have to gaze up at the council members. There was a subtle psychological message conveyed in the positioning of the petitioner's chair, though Inos realized that circumstances made the concept rather absurd in this instance. Sygeanor held all of the advantages and it was contingent upon the Grand Mage to impress this upon his peers.\n\nAfter the Ulgak was seated, Inos moved to his customary seat at the apex of the council table, surprised by the degree of trepidation that surrounded this particular juncture in his nation's history. Along both sides of the council table, every glance shifted from Sygeanor to the elder. Most were simply curious or perplexed, while others appeared openly truculent. Xkador sprang to his feet, his broad brow furrowed in consternation. \"Inos, your summons claimed that this was a matter of prime importance.\"\n\nHe cut his gaze to the girl seated in the petitioner's seat, his expression conveying his belief that his precious time had been needlessly squandered.\n\n\"Patience Xkador,\" Inos pleaded. \"We are about to address a matter of some delicacy and I ask that you all give it your unbiased consideration.\" In a thoughtful, articulate manner, the elder began to divulge the nature of Sygeanor's petition. As he carefully elaborated on her demands, the chamber reverberated with cries of outrage and indignation. As Inos had anticipated, the aftermath of his disclosure was one of fractious argument and bitter recriminations and as he had expected, it was Xkador who was the most vociferous in his objection to the proposal.\n\nWhen Inos related details of Sygeanor's two unconditional terms, the contentious Metocan leapt to his feet and cried, \"That is borderline heresy. That the Metocan Grand Mage would actually table such a proposal is irresponsible and inexcusable. The Ulgak have been banned from Othgol for good and legitimate reason. The woman's very presence here constitutes a crime against existing laws. That you actually organized an audience on her behalf is simply incomprehensible and disturbing in the extreme. You have far exceeded your authority.\"\n\nInos greeted this allegation with a thin-lipped smile. \"Now is hardly the appropriate time to turn this conclave into a forum for your personal ambition.\" Inos stole a brief glance at the girl, who remained aloof in the face of this acrimonious exchange as if she was not the subject of contention. \"Quite frankly, her presence will force us to the realization that we can no longer conveniently cling to our antiquated prejudices. Metocan, the province of Ulgak included, is the last free country left on either continent. Circumstances have forced us into a situation of mutual dependency and obstinacy will only hasten our destruction.\"\n\nXkador again rose to his feet and strode around the end of the table, his gaze fixed squarely upon the girl, who met his belligerent gaze with inscrutability. \"And this is the creature who shall provoke this grand epiphany? What is it about you that would warrant the abrogation of centuries-old edicts?\"\n\nThe girl continued to regard the Metocan, her chin propped casually upon her fist. Only the intense gleam in her eyes gave any indication that she had heard a word he'd uttered. Xkador stiffened, unsettled by the girl's self-assurance in the face of his open hostility. In the next moment, his eyes widened as if he'd been stricken by apoplexy. A force, incisive and swift, penetrated his mind, rummaging through his thoughts like a thresher.\n\n\"Sygeanor!\" Inos rasped, fearing that the girl might subject the Metocan to a painful demonstration of the extent of her telekinetic ability. The girl simply raised her left hand to forestall his objection and the elder fell silent. Now Sygeanor spoke for the first time in a voice that was even and placid. \"Xkador the irascible...how pleasing it must be to view the world from your lofty perspective of imagine superiority? How fervently you lust after the chair that the esteemed Inos now occupies.\"\n\nXkador loosed a thin, strangled cry as his thin lips peeled back from his teeth in a decidedly feral smile. His gaze shifted to Inos as he shook his head in denial.\n\nNow Sygeanor rose to her feet and glided over to the Metocan. \"How carefully you've concealed your ambition, but still it consumes your every waking thought...does it not? You chaff under the notion that you must heed the direction of a man whom you consider inferior. How long will it be before your ego prods you into an act of sedition? Perhaps you would care to relate the details of the discussion you held with Kyros...casual though they may have been...mulling over a plan on how you might actually seize power in Othgol.\"\n\nSygeanor's keen probe withdrew and Xkador sagged against the ancient table, appearing as if he might actually collapse to the cold stone floor. She turned to face the thoroughly disconcerted Inner Circle, all of whom appeared as rigid as statuary. Her façade of shy deference was now entirely gone, replaced by a gleam of predacious intelligence. \"You ask why I warrant the change of long held policy and I would reply that mine is the power to bestow upon Metocan the sight that was lost when Myrhia destroyed your precious crystal of Thamius. Inos will readily testify to the extent and validity of my power.\"\n\nShe came to stand directly before the Grand Mage. \"Let me state this in explicit terms. Your choices in the matter are exceedingly simple...you may cower behind the Hiberas like cravens, blindly waiting for the day that Myrhia decides to end your wretched existence once and for all or you may accede to my demands and take the steps necessary to regain control of your destiny. Without unconditional agreement to my demands, I will not raise a finger on your behalf. Now, are your prejudices so deeply engrained that you would cling to them to spite your own chances of survival?\"\n\nShe then returned to her seat and lapsed back into stoicism as if the matter held no further interest for her. The others turned their attention to the beleaguered Inos, as if looking for some manner of affirmation or guidance. Inos merely nodded. \"I recommend that we accept her terms. Already she has divulged information that has provided us with useful insight into the nature of Myrhia's Morticants.\"\n\nHe then proceeded to explain the details of Myrhia's slave driven commerce in the mines of Redia, while the council absorbed the tale with horrified incredulity. Jerrod, the thoughtful Jerhia who had first brought news of Myrhia's vile machinations to the conclave of the Cornerstone Nations, rose to his feet in an unassuming manner. \"Is such a thing possible Inos? If Myrhia possesses the ability to animate lifeless clay and bend it to her will, then we have grossly underestimated her power.\"\n\nThis calmly-delivered remark let to a frenzied exchange, fuelled by dawning panic. Glad for the distraction, Xkador slipped back into his seat with his head hung limply to avoid eye contact with the Ulgak witch. He, for one, needed no further protracted discussion of the extent of Sygeanor's puissance. He had felt her power reverberating within the chambers of his skull.\n\nTokizar, a chronically anxious mage with watery blue eyes, gave voice to the council's greatest fear. \"If Myrhia can take lifeless clay and transmogrify it into an invincible warrior army, then it is logical to conclude that she could crush us on a whim. It is probable that our continued survival either suits her purpose or is not worthy of her immediate attention.\"\n\nLike a dissipating mist, Inos could feel the Inner Circle's resolve vanishing before a gale of dread, and understood that it was incumbent upon him to staunch the welling tide of panic. \"We must resist the temptation to succumb to defeatism and despair. While it is true that Sygeanor's revelation only seems to augment Myrhia's aura of invincibility, it also helps us to understand the nature of the abomination that she has raised against us. It is the task of the Inner Circle to utilize that knowledge to our advantage. Though I'm not prepared to discuss them, I've already developed a few preliminary notions on how we might exploit that knowledge. I suggest that we accept Sygeanor's proposal,\" the elder continued, \"and it is my intention to appoint her as my personal adjutant for the remainder of this conflict.\" This last disclosure provoked a gasp of astonishment from the other council members who appeared dazed by the dramatic changes that were about to befall their already disrupted lives. Even Sygeanor arched an eyebrow at Inos' public declaration which essentially confirmed her as his eventual successor. When no one rose to oppose his motion, Inos allowed himself a slight smile of relief. \"Very well, I hereby propose that we vote on the matter of allowing an emissary of Ulgak to sit upon our Inner Circle and that Metocan lift all restraints against the citizens of Ulgak. In return, Sygeanor will provide us with the full range of her oracular ability in whatever capacity we deem necessary.\"\n\nA profound silence descended upon the chamber as the Inner Circle considered the matter of Sygeanor's expensive offer of aid. One by one, with perceptible reluctance, the members of the council gave their assent. Even an ashen-faced Xkador raised his hand in concurrence.\n\n\"Very well...the matter is settled,\" Inos declared gravely. \"Jerrod, again I will dispatch you as an emissary in this matter. Before you depart for Ulgak, we will meet to discuss our agenda in re-establishing relations with our cousins.\"\n\nJerrod, who had long harbored a private terror of Ulgak and its strange and often belligerent people, merely nodded.\n\nSygeanor slowly rose to her feet and came to stand on the dais. \"A prudent choice. To demonstrate my worth, I submit myself to whatever test you might devise. Inos has spoken of your collective inability to contact you lost party in the Land of Shades. I will locate your party...if there is a party left to locate.\"\n\n\"No one has ever peered beyond the curtain of the Hiberas,\" Tokizar observed dubiously. Sygeanor's cold gaze fell upon the Metocan like a palpable touch that caused the mage of flinch. Without a trace of hubris, the Ulgak remarked, \"You are wrong on both accounts. If Artumas was indeed consigned to the western extreme of the Land of Shades, the quite obviously, Myrhia has found a method to surmount the Hiberas. What's more, there has never been a telepath with power such as mine.\"\n\n3\n\nThe room was steeped in an expectant silence as every member of the Inner Circle gazed fixedly at the mysterious creature who sat slumped in a wooden chair at the foot of the dais, her head lolling against her chest. Sygeanor was no longer aware of the others as they hovered about her like fawning dogs.\n\nThe process of astral dislocation had become second nature to the Ulgak, who need only close her eyes to envision her spirit lifting free of the moorings of her physical body.\n\nWhen she next opened her eyes, she was gazing down upon the assembly of the Inner Circle from the lofty heights of the vaulted ceiling. The gaping hole that had once been the Crystal of Thamius seemed to peer up at her with blind reproach.\n\nSygeanor had been a small child when she had first discovered her ability to transcend the trappings of her physical body. Her first experience had been a terrifying expedition during which she feared that she had actually perished and was gazing down on her own corpse. Only the tether of aural energy which connected her spirit to her flesh, informed her that what she was experiencing was not actually death.\n\nYears passed and Sygeanor's power grew at a geometric rate...as did her grasp of the world that lay beyond the physical boundaries of poor, ostracized Ulgak. Only when she discovered the secret of severing the tether did the girl gain the first inkling that hers was a power without equal. During her formative years in the wastes of Ulgak, Sygeanor labored to explore and develop the astral dislocation process, until she could make the transition from the physical to the spiritual with the ease of one performing the most menial of tasks.\n\nWhen she had revealed her abilities to Inos, Sygeanor had not been entirely forthcoming. She had never tested the boundaries of the Hiberas while in an astral state. Her bold presumption that she could surmount the barrier was only that...speculation. As was her nature, Sygeanor thrived on risk and now she had forced herself into a situation from which there could be no honorable retreat.\n\nTurning westward, she propelled herself through the massive stone walls and then the swirling mists beyond, speeding unseen through the night sky like a wraith. She wound her way through mountains and dark brooding forests where no human had ever trod, intoxicated with the private delight that she was seeing this darkly majestic land from a perspective that few ever had...if any.\n\nThen it appeared on the horizon, like a furtive snake slithering through the frozen wilds of Metocan...its origins and purpose shrouded in mystery. Only its disposition was known and that disposition was unwaveringly lethal.\n\nSygeanor's spirit paused in mid-flight, eying the deceptively placid river with a shiver of trepidation.\n\nIn the great assembly hall, the members of the Inner Circle watched the girl anxiously, gasping in unison as she laid back her head and emitted a keening shriek that rose to the shadowy recesses of the chamber. Brazol leapt over the table and rushed to the girl's aid. Inos bellowed a strident admonition, but too late to prevent the Metocan from laying his hands on the girl's shoulder. There followed a blinding flash of blue ozone and suddenly the hall was filled with the sickening stench of burning flesh. Brazol was lifted from his feet and flung across the chamber as if he was no more substantial than a sack of feathers. He landed heavily at the foot of the dais, where he lay whimpering and clutching his ruined hands to his chest.\n\nPandemonium descended upon the great hall as elder mages scurried around the room in fear and confusion, above which rose Sygeanor's harrowing cries of agony and terror.\n\nSeeing that something drastic was required, Inos climbed onto the table and bellowed, \"Stay well clear of the girl. Whatever demon has afflicted her flesh is her own to confront and we can offer no succor. Tokizar, attend to Brazol and by all that is holy, stop your wretched whimpering.\"\n\nThe Grand Mage's ire produced a calming affect upon the council members, who gradually returned to their seats. Inos watched them go breathing a sigh of relief, while still realizing that the members hovered on the brink of total panic.\n\nSygeanor's head lolled back on her shoulders and the elder could see that her face was bathed in perspiration and contorted in obvious agony. Her mouth abruptly stretched open and another shriek tore from her bulging throat. Even from his position some fifteen feet from where she sat, Inos could feel the heat emanating from her flesh. A tiny voice lauded her torment, whispering that he would be better served by her immolation. If she was to die, he would be free of her extortion and the dreadful engine of her ambition.\n\nStill another part of his mind discerned the enormity of her abilities and understood that they could serve Metocan well in the struggle with Myrhia. He also correctly surmised that her current torment was being suffered over the waters of the Hiberas.\n\nSygeanor hesitated, trying to master her courage and overcome her debilitating fear. Ahead, the dark Hiberas seemed to taunt her. Only her commitment to her path gave her the impetus to move forward.\n\nHer ephemeral being rocketed out over the arcane barrier and had reached the mid point of the great river without incident. A smile broke across her nebulous features and it seemed virtually certain that she would attain the opposite bank without incident.\n\nAbruptly, the pervasive darkness was shattered by an intense argent eruption and Sygeanor found herself engulfed in a cocoon of writhing agony. As she had feared, the Hiberas had been conceived to repel not only physical intrusions, but astral probing as well.\n\nSygeanor flailed in mid-air, blindly struggling to push across the river, despite the welling pain that tried tenaciously to consume that which had no substance to be consumed. Instinct informed her that, should she not extricate herself from this hell, her physical body would vanish in a puff of acrid smoke.\n\nWilling herself to compartmentalize the agony that ravaged her spirit, the Ulgak tenaciously propelled herself westward, though the resistance escalated with every foot she progressed.\n\nIn the chamber, Sygeanor's rough cloth robe burst into flames.\n\n\"Water...quickly, douse her with water!\" Inos commanded as the argent licks of flame curled around her body like a serpent. Servants carrying wooden buckets of water raced into the great hall and frantically poured the water over the rising pyre.\n\nSygeanor's wails of torment became unbearable and still they rose in pitch and volume until it seemed like the world was alive with raw agony.\n\n\"Her flesh...by the mercy of the gods, the flames are ravaging her flesh,\" Xkador cried. Turning to Inos, he demanded, \"Surely there is something we can do to intervene?\"\n\nInos shook his head absently, his gaze riveted on the blazing human horror at the foot of the dais. Through the shifting curtain of argent fury, Inos was afforded a brief glimpse of Sygeanor and saw that her flesh had been thoroughly charred by the unholy fire. His gaze locked upon her eyes which were completely alive and aware, focused upon torture more than a half continent away.\n\nThen, as abruptly as the hellish ordeal had commenced, the gruesome spectacle of immolation ended. The argent pyre was instantly extinguished as though by some huge smothering hand. Naked and ravaged by fire, Sygeanor collapsed onto the cold stone of the chamber floor.\n\nFor the next several moments, the great hall descended into a deathly silence. Not a single mage moved, each mesmerized by the grim spectacle of immolation that lay unmoving before them. Rousing himself, Inos moved around the end of the long table and came to stand over the smoldering Ulgak. Subjugating his revulsion, he knelt beside the girl, closing his mind against the acrid reek of burnt flesh, and gingerly laid his hand against her throat just beneath the angle of her jaw.\n\nA spasm shook her body in reaction to his gentle touch and he drew back his hand as though from a pit of snakes. He glanced up at the others, his eyes alight with urgency. \"She lives.\"\n\nInos could discern the collective stare of the others upon the side of his face, their transfixed gazes demanding his attention. He rose on wobbly legs and raising his arms to the vaulted ceiling, uttered a thunderous declaration befitting a zealous prophet addressing a legion of supplicants. \"She has prevailed...Sygeanor has crossed the Hiberas...just as she vowed she would.\"\n\nHis voice conveyed such soaring elation that soon the others joined his jubilant tribute to the audacious Ulgak. As Mascius watched from the shadow, silent tears of anguish poured down the elderly scholar's cheeks. Yes, Sygeanor succeeded, but peering down upon her devastated flesh, he could not help but wonder at what price this success had been obtained.\n\n4\n\nHalf a world away, Islena Doraux lay unmoving upon the sterile soil of the Upper Lands, while the others huddled around her, each attempting to recuperate from the trauma of the battle they'd just survived.\n\nLorio knelt beside Doraux and gently moved her into a more comfortable position, careful to position the Dragonsword within arms reach of the unconscious warrior. Doraux's final words still reverberated in her ears. ' _I know exactly what you are. She's mine, deviant...she's mine!'_\n\nThe entity within Islena had gleaned her true nature and eventually, Lorio would have to act to seize control of the situation before it divulged her secret to the others. On the next occasion the virulence seized control of Islena, Lorio decided that she would make no move to intervene.\n\n\"Is she well?\" Emian inquired in a voice tremulous and oddly timid.\n\n\"As well as could be expected, considering her circumstances,\" Lorio allowed coldly.\n\n\"Look! Is such a thing possible?\" the maimed Emercian exclaimed from around the edges of his agony. All eyes shifted to follow his gaze and to a one, even member reacted with the same disbelieving shock.\n\nSpringing up with startling speed and vitality, pouring forth from the earth in a frenetic tangle, there arose fresh foliage in every possible hue of green. Not only was the growth visible, but it was actually audible. Where the looming vampire trees had once stood now new stands of oak, sycamore and iron wood pushed their way skyward, until the once sterile, inimical terrain was suddenly transformed into a verdant paradise...much like the rest of the Upper Lands.\n\n\"When Islena purged the evil that held sway here, she restored the land to its original state,\" the Metocan theorized, clearly mesmerized by the spectacle of regeneration.\n\n\"Is it possible that this earth...the very rock and soil...had become a repository for evil?\" Arminda inquired, clearly disturbed by the concept that the very fabric of the world could be possessed by a sentient malevolence.\n\n\"We've experienced the evidence first hand,\" Lorio observed wryly, though even her cold Morticant's heart could not help but be awed by the natural genesis unfolding before her alien eyes.\n\n\"Still, if the very earth can possess a conscious malice, what possible hope can mere mortals have of besting such demons? Even Myrhia, for all her cruel inventiveness, does not seem as ineffably horrible as what we've endured on this day,\" the Emercian insisted, his voice tremulous with pain and the post-traumatic anxiety of battling against a hostile earth. \"These are unholy things that can claim no place in this world. I'm just a lowly soldier and perhaps easily refuted by scholars, but I've lived through seven years of incessant warfare and yet nothing in that experience compares to this. It may well be that the Hiberas is a barrier that never should have been breeched.\"\n\nEmian nodded thoughtfully as his gaze fixed on a blossoming rose bush as it reached full bloom in the span of seconds. \"There could be a certain validity to your claim, but I suspect that your logic will prove incorrect. Watching this miraculous rebirth...this opulent unfurling...I cannot help but think that the Hiberas was indeed conceived to protect this place from the vapid and petty cruelty of mortals. It is very possible that we are seeing the earth as it must have been before it was sullied by the voracious appetites of man. I would not be all that surprised to discover that the demon that afflicted this place was spawned in our lands.\"\n\nThe Emercian shook his head, more in uncertainty than contention. \"If enough blood has been spilled and enough treachery committed over a single expanse of land, could it be that the land will absorb that cumulative evil?\"\n\nEmian shrugged noncommittally. \"It is said that there are truly dark places in this world, where some manner of evil has permeated the fabric of the land. Those who travel there actually feel the icy breath of perfidy upon their necks. I have never experienced this personally, but I would be reluctant to challenge its existence. Whatever the underlying cause might be, the evil that resided here has been exorcised.\"\n\nWhile Emian and the Emercian discussed the philosophy and mechanics of evil, Arminda drifted away from the group. When she was out of view, she slid down the trunk of a recently sprouted oak tree. Covering her eyes with her one good arm, she began to weep silently, her bitter tears provoked by a flood of inadequacy and self-loathing.\n\nShe continued to weep for several moments until she became aware of another presence hovering over her like a shadow. Arminda glanced up, preparing to be angry at the intrusion, when she saw Gillian gazing down upon her with a pained expression on his angular face.\n\n\"Why...why do you cry?\" he stammered, his contorted face reflecting the agonized effort required to utter the simple sentence. It was the first sentence that the Jerhia swordsman had spoken since Sormias had returned him to the party.\n\nShe quickly climbed to her feet and brushed fresh grass from her dirty trousers, averting her eyes to conceal her shame over her display of emotional weakness. A Jerhia did not cry or petulantly bemoan their misfortune like a mewling, coddled child. Instead, they adapted to adversity and strove to overcome. This concept had been inculcated into her psyche since she was a small child. Displays of uncontrolled emotions were symptomatic of weakness...inadequacy.\n\nAgain, Gillian posed his question in his halting fashion, \"Arminda, why the tears?\"\n\nShe gazed into his clouded eyes and the absence of disdainful judgment shattered her reservations, opening her soul to his honest need to understand. She flicked a glance at her limp arm dangling uselessly at her side, her pretty face twisting into revulsion as she did. \"Look at me...I'm an enfeebled cripple...a burden to everyone. I'm no longer even capable of keeping a grip on my crossbow. When the battle began, I was forced to grovel through the dirt like a swine. I cowered behind Emian, while Islena and Lorio fought on our behalf.\"\n\n\"As did I,\" Gillian pointed out, his voice soft and distant. She raised her eyes quickly to the swordsman, only to find her turbulent dejection reflected in his pale blue eyes. In that moment of pure empathy, Arminda gleaned the extent of his misery. Her plight was no worse than his certainly, if not actually less extreme as Gillian had generally been regarded as Jerhia's finest swordsman...only to be reduced to the role of helpless bystander.\n\n\"We are both Jerhia, Gillian,\" she complained. \"To be thus reduced is more than I can endure. To live as a helpless cripple goes against every conviction that our people espouse.\"\n\nGillian nodded slowly and Arminda could sense something stirring behind his eyes. For just a moment the fog of disorientation parted and the old Gillian, incisive and glib, emerged from its midst.\n\n\"This damnable madness has ravaged my system, making rational thought difficult. Gradually, the fogs are receding and I hope that I might soon return to what I was. Never the matter, you and I will do as we must, Arminda. I have come to realize that many of the cornerstone philosophies that have formed the foundations of our culture are not only erroneous...they are flagrantly abusive.\"\n\nArminda pursed her lips at this heresy, but said nothing. The uncoupling with long held moral convictions was not a simple matter, but the Jerhia recalled having a similar conversation with Emian not two nights prior. Gillian gripped her shoulders and shook her with gentle affection. \"Arminda, you have acquitted yourself with a level of courage and expedient judgment that would have made a Maxim Tier Marshall proud. It's ignoble to label a person as a useless burden simply because they might find themselves with diminished physical skills. The concept is an indictment against the entire Jerhia culture and it will fall to you to rectify that wrong through the living example you have set.\"\n\nArminda's eyes widened. \"Falls to me? Gillian, I'm a bow woman...nothing more. Even the notion that I am qualified to lead this quest is preposterous.\"\n\nGillian offered her a thin smile. \"If you will allow me to offer a rare prediction, I will forecast that, when the final battle has been decided and should we have the good fortune of vanquishing the enchantress, I suspect that you will stand upon the summit of power in Jerhia. I fervently hope that my prescience proves correct on this occasion. With a woman of your nature ensconced upon the seat of Maxim Tier Marshall, it is possible that the Jerhia might temper their position of austere discipline with a liberal measure of much needed compassion.\"\n\nArminda drew back, thinking that he was mocking her. The notion that she could ever ascend to anything beyond the rank of bow adjutant was fatuous. No woman had ever held the position of Tier Marshall, much less Maxim Tier Marshall. His expression held no measure of derision, only an open sincerity and suddenly she found her face flush with embarrassment. \"There are times when I feel so horribly inadequate...terrified.\"\n\n\"Only a fool would truthfully boast that they have experienced neither. What distinguishes a leader from a follower is the ability to function under such conditions...to employ his or her fear as a tool.\"\n\nArminda glanced a Gillian questioningly, perplexed by the suggestion. \"Arminda, fear is a natural reaction to a dangerous situation. It allows us to perceive potential peril and react appropriately. Also, if we are never beset by doubt or fear, how could we ever grow? Complacency and self-satisfaction are the end of growth. Never stop questioning yourself, Arminda...to do so leads to spiritual atrophy.\"\n\nHe winced and bowed his head. When he again turned his gaze upon the girl, his eyes were clouded...not by pain, but a nebulous disassociation. \"Arminda, how...how did you come by your injury?\"\n\nHis voice seemed even, but he could discern a profound anguish lurking beneath the calm. She stole a brief glance at her paralyzed arm and lied, \"I was stung during a confrontation with creatures from the lowland rivers.\"\n\nHe studied her face for a moment and then nodded, though she could sense him receding deeper into the fog. She took his hand and was about to lead him back to the others when the strident shrieks began.\n\nChapter Nine\n\n1\n\nSygeanor waded through the consuming fires of the Hiberas, her body engulfed in agony. When it seemed inevitable that her spirit would perish in the ephemeral fury of its flames...that her estimate of her own abilities had been radically aggrandized...she burst through the gauntlet and onto the sterile fringes of the Land of Shades.\n\nWracked by pervasive pain, she floated down to the gray dirt, settling onto the sterile earth with little awareness of the mysterious world around her. As she laid there, her spirit-flesh quivering, Sygeanor could sense how badly her body had been damaged in the physical world. She waited patiently and did not lift her head until the pain had abated to manageable levels.\n\nHer first impression of the arcane realm of the spirits was one of intense disappointment. The Land of Shades had been the obsession of millennia, consuming the lives of scholars and dreamers alike. This place was one of unrelenting bleakness...a monochrome, maddeningly monotonous wasteland where only insanity could ever flourish. If the party had ventured on foot into this gray, purgatorial expanse, it was quite possible that they had now become part of dirt that they sought to traverse.\n\nA deeper instinct warned her against drawing hasty conclusions and she roused herself and took to the skies. As the torment of her ordeal subsided, Sygeanor was suffused by a soaring euphoria. She had accomplished what the greatest mystics of the world had failed to achieve...confirming her belief that hers as an unparalleled talent.\n\nNot long after, she crossed into the first area where vegetation began to poke through the sterile soil, appearing dogged yet ultimately pathetic in its struggle for life. As she progressed westward, Sygeanor was possessed by the certainty that human intrusion into this mystical place would leave a discernable residue upon the land. She need only locate traces of that psychic residue to track the party like a Jerhia war hound.\n\nBelow her, the grassy plain abruptly transformed into a teeming forest. Sygeanor immediately deduced that the intense sprawl of trees and tangled undergrowth could not be correctly described as a forest. Her language held no equivalent for the word jungle, but she understood that the frenetic hot house of natural growth, each species savagely competing for space and a chance a precious life, did not occur in her world.\n\nTrying to locate anything in this unruly tangle would be virtually impossible, so she elected to explore the impression of vapor trails. Surging south, she gradually slowed her pace and allowed her astral senses to scan the earth below for any signs of recent contamination...a term that her mind automatically ascribed to mortal presence in this apparent demesne of the dead.\n\nEven in her ephemeral form, Sygeanor could still absorb impressions and sensations from the physical environment around her, though they reached her in an oddly muted way. The wild tangle emanated a palpable heat and humidity that was unpleasant in its intensity and it occurred to her that anything traveling through this region on foot would suffer miserably. It was easy to imagine the party perishing in such a place and it was not simply the adversity of travel that provoked this thought. Sygeanor could sense the presence of furtive menace lurking in the shadows and recesses of this place. She could discern nothing of their specific nature, but she had little doubt that they would prove lethal and horrifying to those who encountered them.\n\nThen she saw it very much in the form she had anticipated; a brown ribbon of vapor extending both east and west. She hovered above the residue trail and peered in each direction. To the east, it had already begun to fade and Sygeanor intuited that this stain was not indelible. In time, all residue of the party's passage would be effaced and the land would be restored to what it had been...an unblemished natural requiem, though for precisely what, she could not say with any degree of accuracy.\n\nTo the west, the floating aural ribbon gradually thickened as it progressed through the lowlands toward the horizon and Sygeanor briefly stopped to examine the aberration. Colors intertwined with the predominantly brown vapor...red and black intermingling to create a roiling spiral of color. The Ulgak drifted over to the anomaly and plunged into the spiral.\n\nShe was immediately accosted by an intense flood of images, each slamming into her mind in stroboscopic succession. Here, a possessed Jerhia named Gillian had fought a desperate battle with Islena Doraux, wounding another Jerhia (Arminda had been her name) before being swallowed by the deluge. In the instant before these images had dissolved was afforded a glimpse of a tall, extremely beautiful raven-haired woman.\n\n' _Lorio...the killer of Kyros!'_ This was the murderess who had slaughtered her noble father, only to be allowed to walk away unpunished. Sygeanor's barely constrained rage erupted and she laid back head and howled with outrage.\n\nAfter a moment, the cry subsided and Sygeanor's thin lips twisted into a broad, humorless grin. At last, her mortal enemy had a face and form upon which to focus the full weight of her hatred.\n\nStill grinning her terrible grin, Sygeanor resumed her journey into the unknown.\n\n2\n\n\"You fought with heroic valor, Lorio.\" The Lamish beauty spun about to find Emian regarding her solemnly, his large eyes narrowed into an expression of intense speculation.\n\nShe accepted his compliment with a shrug as though her phenomenal bravery was nothing more than a mundane act that scarcely merited discussion. \"I did what was required to protect Islena.\"\n\n\"Islena is truly fortunate to have such a devoted friend,\" Emian remarked. Lorio grimaced and shot the Metocan a sour scowl, fraught with unexpected bitterness.\n\n\"How does she fare?\" the Metocan inquired, gazing down upon Islena's slack face, which appeared angelically beautiful in repose. Cloaked in the mantle of sleep, it was hard to believe that her body was beset by pernicious poison.\n\nLorio glanced at Doraux, her dark eyes hooded and inscrutable. \"She is well, though obviously she is enervated by these massive outpourings of power.\"\n\n\"True, if she did not possess the magnificent physical structure she does, I doubt her body could tolerate the strain.\"\n\n\"It's amazing that she hasn't vanished in a ball of flame,\" Lorio agreed, her tone neutral. Emian watched her closely, unable to penetrate the elaborate veil of her inscrutability. From the moment that the party had reached the Upper Lands, Emian had discerned a subtle shift in Lorio's demeanor. Where before she had been stoic, now she seemed evasive, but the Metocan could intuit nothing of her purpose. He knew only that the Lamish warrior was functioning to some esoteric agenda and it was imperative that it be brought to light before it could reach fruition.\n\n\"I am concerned that such extravagant expenditures of power might attract other inhabitants of this place. It's inconceivable that such an eruption would go unnoticed,\" Emian observed and the notion caused him to frown in consternation.\n\nLorio slammed her staff into the holder which she had fashioned for it on her pack. \"What type of attention our conflict might attract.\"\n\nEmian glanced around, suddenly wondering what might have happened to Arminda. Gillian was also conspicuously absent and Emian saw that the Emercian, to whom the task of squiring the ailing Jerhia had fallen, was locked in his own world of torment with the stump of his arm clutched to his chest. He would require healing to ameliorate the pain if he was to continue. Glumly, Emian understood that the list of invalids was mounting daily. In truth, only the enigmatic Lorio remained undiminished by the ordeal that the group had endured...yet another fact that further raised the Metocan's suspicions.\n\nFrom behind him there came the sound of laughter...a rich throaty sound that filled his veins with ice water. He spun around to find Islena regarding him with a sardonic, derisive grin twisting her generous mouth. He need only a single glimpse into her roiling eyes to know that she was completely under the thrall of the virulence. Now, however, her demeanor had gone from animal rage to cunning malice that was somehow more terrifying. The dark light in her eyes bespoke a devious intelligence that would be capable of any manner of cruelty.\n\nShe had roused herself into a sitting position and Emian noticed that she had pulled the Dragonsword into her lap...a situation that held limitless potential for disaster. Doraux perceived his anxiety and laughed all the harder, brandishing the icon above her head, where the deep set rubies flared with power.\n\n\"Emian, I'm guessing that you would like me to give the sword over to your keeping?\" Islena intoned with a subtle hint of malicious mirth.\n\nEmian's glance shifted briefly to Lorio, who had circled behind Islena while withdrawing her quarterstaff from its holder.\n\n\"For all of our sakes, it would be prudent,\" Emian remarked gravely, his eyes drawn to the flaring rubies which pulsed with a well spring of virtually infinite power. The delicacy of the situation caused Emian's heart to palpitate, but he succeeded in sporting a mask of neutrality.\n\nHolding the massive sword out before her in one powerful arm, Islena climbed slowly to her feet, her grin curdling to an ugly sneer. Flecks of shifting ebony flared and guttered on the green field of her intense eyes. Emian hoped that she yet retained enough of herself to see reason. Failing that, he hoped that the poised Lorio reacted quickly enough to avert disaster.\n\n\"So I've done your dirty work and now you wish to put me back in my box?\" Doraux rasped. \"You're no different from any of the other users who have abused me since I was first dragged into this miserable fucking world.\"\n\nThe air flared an acrid vermillion. Emian's instinct warned him to give ground, but he decided that Doraux would interpret this as not only a sign of weakness...but an admission of guilt. He held both hands out in a placating gesture. \"Islena, I'm being totally forthcoming. The sword is dangerous when you're under the pall of the virulence. I ask only that you allow another member of the party to hold it when you're under its influence.\"\n\n\"Do you intend to bind me again?\" she demanded, advancing slowly with the sword extended before her. Lorio moved silently after her, raising her staff slightly.\n\n\"I admit that binding you was an error in judgment and I alone take responsibility,\" Emian conceded, realizing that Doraux was within striking distance. \"It is an error that I will never repeat.\"\n\n\"That I can assure you,\" Doraux agreed, her malefic grin widening slightly, though the dark mirth never touched her eyes. \"If you require the sword, Emian...you need only take it.\"\n\nShe lowered the blade and proffered it forward as if intending to relinquish it. Her odd smile broadened reassuringly. \"Take it Emian. Next time we're threatened, I'll function like a well-trained dog and take it up. For the time being, I'll consign it to your...trusteeship.\"\n\nLorio paused and lowered her quarterstaff with a quizzical expression set on her lovely face. Emian noticed that the Dragonsword's rubies had guttered completely. Inhaling sharply, Emian reached forward to accept the icon.\n\nAs he took a single step, Islena's beautiful face curdled into an expression of unbridled fury. A single bound forward was all that was required and Emian found himself impaled on the Jerhia icon, his body suffused by vermillion agony.\n\nHis eyes bulged and he emitted a harrowing shriek before collapsing to the fresh mat of grass.\n\n\"The sword is yours to do with as you wish, you treacherous bastard!\" Islena declared with a satisfied smirk. In the next instant, Lorio surged forward and delivered a well-placed blow to the base of Islena's skull. She uttered a thick grunt and fell onto her face next to the dying Metocan.\n\nLorio peered down upon Islena. After bending down and assuring that the damage she had inflicted was only superficial, the hybrid knelt beside the Metocan. His eyes were pain-clouded and his mouth worked in a twisted rictus of agony. Bringing her mouth close to the dying man's ear, she whispered, \"The High Queen sends her condolences.\"\n\nEmian jerked his head in Lorio's direction, his eyes widening in dawning horror. Lorio offered the mortally wounded Metocan a triumphant smile and then gave the sword a final petulant twist. The Metocan uttered a gurgling cry and then died with one final shudder. Lorio stood up and quickly withdrew the weapon from the Metocan's chest.\n\nOnly then did she notice the Nymal regarding her with a wary frown. \"What manner of treachery is this?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid you've just signed your death warrant,\" she pronounced flatly and before the Emercian could react or utter a cry of negation, the Lamish warrior had cleanly separated his head from his shoulders. She jumped bark to avoid the geyser of blood and discarded the sword beside the unconscious Doraux. Then she simply gazed down upon the headless corpse of the Emercian traitor, whose blood continued to sully the virginal expanse of grass.\n\nJust then Arminda and Gillian hurried through the trees on the run, coming to an abrupt, incredulous halt upon first glimpsing the carnage that was strewn over the new carpet of grass.\n\n3\n\nThe Inner Circle huddled around the slumped form of Sygeanor, waiting in tense silence for some indication that she had located Islena and the party. Metocan physicians had administered to her burns and wrapped her body in a swath of emollient saturated gauze to anneal the misery that would await the Ulgak upon her return to her physical body. Her flesh had sustained serious burns, but there was already evidence that the Metocan treatment would restore it to its former health.\n\n\"What does she see?\" Brazol blurted, breaking the intolerable tension. Inos silenced the elderly mage with a curt gesture, though he could not help but wonder precisely the same thing.\n\nSygeanor's facial expression conveyed the mirror expression sported by her astral twin. As time seemed hang suspended in the gravitas of the moment, that expression ran the entire spectrum of emotions from disappointment to unaccountable rage, before giving way to profound wonder and astonishment.\n\nAfter a moment, she abruptly tensed and her body arched against the back of her chair as she bellowed a single word. It rose up and reverberated through the great chamber like an ululating death knell.\n\nInos regarded her in open consternation, his face assuming the pallor of vivified chalk as the grave implications of that single word detonated in his mind.\n\n\"Murder!\"\n\n4\n\nFor a protracted moment, Arminda was incapable of movement or speech as though every faculty had deserted her and her flesh had been seized in a vice of tetanus. Her eyes were transfixed by the carnage strewn before her even as her frazzled mind warred to reject the reality that her eyes insisted upon accepting as the truth.\n\nSlowly, Lorio turned her inscrutable gaze upon the two Jerhia, her intense dark eyes disclosing nothing beyond her unfathomable aura of mystery. There was something disdainful in that gaze and it was this inexplicable emotion that finally broke Arminda's paralysis.\n\n\"What has happened here, Lorio?\" she ventured cautiously, suddenly grasping how vulnerable she was in this confusing situation. If Lorio was responsible for this bloodshed, she and Gillian would find themselves at the mercurial Lamish warrior's sparse mercy.\n\n\"Emian attempted to entice Islena to surrender the Dragonsword...a grave error in judgment as events would prove. Islena was clearly under the influence of the virulence, though she was not possessed of the pure animal fury that had accompanied her first episode. This time she was under the thrall of something cunning. Your Metocan friend failed to perceive its presence until it was too late.\" Lorio shifted her gaze to Emian's chilling flesh, her expression bereft of any indication of compassion or sorrow. \"Before I could intervene, Islena had killed Emian and beheaded our unfortunate Emercian companion. It is only by luck that I managed to avoid sharing their fate.\"\n\n\"Emian is dead?\" Arminda echoed dumbly, stumbling blindly toward the unmoving Metocan. She needed only one glance at his normally placid face...now contorted by shock and horror...to know that Lorio had spoken the unbearable truth.\"\n\nShe closed her eyes if only to escape the insufferable horror and allowed her chin to settle to her chest. Emian had been her confidant and sage advisor. His constant encouragement had endowed her with the fortitude to deal with the volatile and dynamic demands of the quest. His assurance had prevented her from falling into utter despair after she'd been maimed. His unwavering reason and serenity had instilled a sense of order in the party. He had been a pillar of unwavering composure in a sea of chaos. Now he was gone...savagely murdered by the very woman he had vowed to protect. Despair, black and acidic, welled up in the pit of her guts, extinguishing her one faint spark of hope. With Emian's slaying, all hope for the world's salvation had been effaced and Myrhia could now fulfill her vile ambition without even the slightest prospect of encumbrance.\n\nDejection gave way to an uncharacteristic fury then. Shrieking in immutable fury, Arminda spun around and pounced on the prone form of Islena. She flailed away with her one good arm, while a thoroughly flummoxed Lorio gazed on, momentarily immobilized by shock. To witness a Jerhia this enraged was akin to the rare darkening of the midday sun...an event that inspired atavistic dread in all who witnessed it.\n\nThe Jerhia managed to land a dozen heavy blows to Islena's head and shoulders before Lorio could finally manage to drag her clear of the unconscious woman. Arminda raged and struggled like a deranged snake, but Lorio held her easily.\n\n\"Be still...your fit of temper will not resurrect Emian, but it will further complicate our situation.\" Arminda sagged limply as a weak gasp escaped her twisted lips in the moment before her tears of sorrow overwhelmed and extinguished her anger. Lorio set her down and the Jerhia stumbled blindly away before collapsing to her knees next to the Metocan, whom she had come to cherish as her friend. Not caring about Lorio's disapproving frown, she caressed his smooth brow and whispered, \"Oh sweet Emian, of all of us, you were the one least deserving of this ending.\"\n\nShe could sense a presence hovering over her and she glanced up to find Lorio regarding her with an expression of cold detachment. Arminda was accosted by a wave of black hatred so intense that it made her body shudder. _'Oh how I despise this obdurate, unfeeling bitch!'_\n\n\"It would be folly to remain here for much longer,\" Lorio advised. \"On this matter, Emian proved correct...an outpouring of this magnitude is bound to attract attention that we simply can't afford.\"\n\n\"Are you suggesting that we leave these men like this?\" Arminda demanded indignantly as her face colored with outrage. \"You would abandon them without the dignity of a proper burial?\"\n\n\"It would be the prudent course of action,\" Lorio observed...a secret emotion stealing over her lovely face.\n\n\"Fuck prudent!\" Arminda exploded, leaping to her feet and starting toward the hybrid. \"I don't give a damn if Myrhia is about to manifest in the center of this clearing, we are not leaving until both bodies are buried and that is the end of the issue. If you wish to leave, consider yourself free of any obligation and be gone.\"\n\nShe came to a heaving stop before the taller woman, her breath coming in ragged inhalations. Lorio regarded the Jerhia with an expression of open amusement. \"Very well...we'll bury your comrades if it satisfies your sense of decorum and then you can decide how we proceed from here.\"\n\nArminda peered directly into the hybrid's eyes and when she spoke her tone was at once querulous and morose. \"My decision is already made...we're turning back. In her present state, this woman poses a greater threat to our world than Myrhia ever could. If Artumas lives and indeed has knowledge of the remaining Proclamations, there would be temptation to seek them out and ignore Islena's virulence. Desperation often occludes common sense and logic. I'm in a position where I can forestall such lunacy and I intend to do just that.\"\n\nFor one of the few times in their journey, Lorio displayed intense animation in reaction to this declaration of defeat. \"You're allowing emotion to subvert your good judgment. We have traversed an entire continent in search of this exiled king. Surely it is not much further to the great ocean. It would be irresponsible to turn back now. You presume too much, Arminda. This quest has very specific objectives...objectives that were succinctly stated when we agreed to undertake the search. You simply don't have the mandate to cast aside the one slim hope this world has of averting eternal damnation in Myrhia's shadow. If you divorce yourself from your grief, you will glean the truth of this.\"\n\nArminda merely shook her head and turned away. \"I disagree. Quite frankly, I'm the only one in a position to make this decision because I've witnessed Islena's menace first hand. In my opinion...the risks simply don't justify continuing.\"\n\nLorio's brow furrowed and her gaze shifted to the prostrate figure of Islena. \"Very well, Arminda. The burden of leadership has fallen to you. In all candor, I've always held the private belief that this effort is futile at any rate. Still, there are two salient realities that you'd better consider before we turn for home.\"\n\nArminda returned her attention to the dark beauty and arched an eyebrow questioningly. It was unusual for the Lamish woman to be so expansive, but circumstances may well have forced her to be garrulous. Lorio crossed over to Doraux and gently retrieved the Dragonsword. \"Returning home means traipsing back through every obstacle that we have encountered thus far. Consider the prospect of descending the rock face in light of what we've experienced. Even if we managed to reach the bottom, I can personally assure you that we can not expect an amiable welcome on the island.\"\n\nArminda pursed her lips at this disclosure, but offered no comment. She had always harbored the private opinion that Lorio had not allowed Islena's public humiliation to go unpunished and though she personally commiserated with the woman's decision, the need to circumvent the island would only complicate an already onerous task.\n\n\"Even if we managed to reach the Hiberas, there remains the matter of crossing into Metocan. As it stands, we could easily be trapped with Myrhia and her army of Morticants. I can personal attest to the hellish consequences of that outcome.\"\n\nArminda glanced away, her eyes distant and thoughtful. \"There is a place we might go...a sanctuary that the enchantress is not likely to find.\"\n\nEvery instinct warned the Jerhia to remain silent and yet she blurted out her secret as though something had usurped her will. \"Iythyx awaits us, Lorio. The rumored paradise is not a myth. I have beheld it with my own eyes. It is there that the majority of Jerhia fled after Myrhia invaded our homeland.\"\n\nLorio managed to contain her emotions, though only by the narrowest of margins, in the face of this staggering revelation. Iythyx...the entire remnant of the Jerhia army concentrated in one place. The enchantress would be delighted to learn of the whereabouts of her most persistent adversaries. She would slaughter the lot of them as a matter of course.\n\n' _You foolish, simpering idiot,'_ Lorio thought contemptuously. _'I'll be certain to remind you of this blunder in the moments before I end your wretched life. You've just consigned your entire race to extinction.'_\n\n\"Iythyx...you've seen it with your own two eyes?\" Lorio exclaimed, feigning incredulity. \"Is it truly the spectacle that it is proclaimed to be?\"\n\nArminda simply nodded. \"I lack the descriptive ability to do it justice. In many ways, it reminds me of this place, though its delicacy bestows upon it an even greater sense of wonder.\"\n\nLorio nodded tightly. \"There is the matter of Islena. The poison seems entrenched in her system and exercises a greater influence over her actions with every passing day.\"\n\nArminda's cold regard fell upon the woman who had been lauded as a savior. When she spoke, her voice was fraught with loathing. \"Bind her with whatever material we have. Under no circumstances can we allow her to regain possession of the sword. From this day forth, we run when faced with potential menace.\"\n\nLorio voiced no further objection, deciding that she would allow events to run their natural course. Nodding, she set about the process of restraining Islena, duplicating Emian's feat of magic with several lengths of rope. Once Islena had been secured, Lorio applied herself to the distasteful task of burying Emian and Nymal. She labored with the fluid efficiency that characterized her every movement.\n\nArminda watched the statuesque beauty work, admiring the implacable aura of confidence that seemed to guide her every movement.\n\nAs she watched, Lorio abruptly stiffened, her back arching like an over drawn bow, and relinquished her grip on the Dragonsword, which she had been using as a digging implement. With a strident wail, she clutched her head and collapsed to her knees in the very grave where she had intended to inter her two victims.\n\nArminda leapt to her feet and bound over to the beset hybrid, only to be repulsed by an invisible field of energy. She tumbled backward, watching helplessly as an unseen assailant ravaged Lorio. A swirling blue light coalesced around the hybrid, twisting her like a rag doll.\n\n\"Get out of...my head!\" Lorio raged as her face constricted into a mask of rage and agony. Apparently, her unseen nemesis complied as the hybrid was slammed viciously into the open grave. As a gaping Arminda looked on helplessly, a nebulous form appeared to rise out of the unmoving woman and hover there for a brief moment, before darting off to the east in an effulgent blaze. In the instant before it vanished, the Jerhia was afforded a brief glimpse of the entity's face.\n\nA startled gasp escaped Arminda's cracked lips upon seeing that the face was clearly that of a Metocan.\n\n5\n\nWhen Sygeanor reunited with her body, it was with an audible snap that jolted her back to reality and into the tangible confines of her flesh. Immediately, the intense agony of her burning assailed her consciousness and she began to tear out a series of harrowing shrieks. The members of the Inner Circle gathered about her, waiting helplessly for her violent tremors to subside. Inos approached the young woman carefully. Extending a single long index finger toward Sygeanor's forehead, the elder whispered an ancient incantation. Upon contact, a muted yellow glow emanated from the tip of his finger and enveloped the suffering woman. It radiated through the woman's flesh, gradually diminishing the girl's torment to manageable levels.\n\nSygeanor shuddered and slumped back into her chair as her chin settled to her chest. She appeared frail and oddly reduced by her ordeal and Inos came to deduce that these mystic voyages extracted an extravagant toll upon her body.\n\nThen her eyelids fluttered open and she uttered a soft moan. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was weak and tremulous. \"The pain...is enormous!\"\n\n\"We've done everything possible to reduce your torment. There should be no lasting disfigurement to your actual flesh, but I suspect that your discomfort may linger for some time to come.\"\n\nSygeanor offered the elders a smile of sincere gratitude, displaying a genuine innocence that was lost behind her normal deportment of aloofness. This brief and all too rare glimpse of Sygeanor's compassionate side helped assuage a small measure of the elder's anxiety regarding his arrangement with the mercurial woman.\n\n\"I've succeeded in locating the party,\" Sygeanor announced. \"I must warn you that the quest has badly faltered.\"\n\nIn a mechanical, dispassionate voice, she began to recount all that she had discovered in the course of her search for Islena and the others. She deliberately excluded any mention of her assault upon Lorio, but she did disclose the dreadful secret she'd discovered as she plunged into the complex labyrinth of the hybrid's mind. \"Whatever she might once have been, the woman named Lorio has somehow become a minion of the enchantress. Myrhia has somehow inculcated the woman with the same infernal magic that spawned her Morticants.\"\n\nThis revelation was greeted by a tumult of questions and wails of negation. Only Inos did not respond, instead glaring steadily at Sygeanor with an expression of intense disapproval set on his normally benign face. Grasping the source of his ire, she quickly surmounted his defenses and spoke to him in the private confines of her mind...an ability that still unnerved the Metocan elder. _'I sense the direction of your thoughts elder and I can assure you that my allegations are not motivated by my antipathy toward the woman.'_\n\nInos muttered an inaudible curse. Indeed, Sygeanor's shocking disclosure only served to explicate many of the Lamish warrior's more baffling actions; casting them in a sinister light.\n\n\"This new manifestation of Myrhia's abominations is most disturbing,\" Brazol proclaimed, ever the master of understatement. His hands were wrapped in the same emollient dressing that covered Sygeanor and he held them tightly to his narrow chest. \"If she has mastered the ability to infect mortals with her vile seed, then the prospects for treachery and espionage become staggeringly grim. This odious woman was privy to our most sensitive conclaves.\"\n\nInos pursed his lips, but nodded his agreement. \"True and thus we now understand how Myrhia was able to anticipate our ploy of diverting the Hiberas. Lorio provided the perfect conduit through which to relay our every intention.\"\n\n\"Then you suspect that Myrhia is well aware of this quest and its ultimate objective?\" Xkador asked, clearly mortified by the notion.\n\n\"It would flagrantly imprudent to assume anything else,\" Inos confirmed soberly.\n\n\"It's imperative that we apprise Emian of Lorio's true nature,\" Tokizar offered, attempting to sound resolute and thus disguise her nascent apprehension that things had gone irretrievably awry.\n\nInos need only a single glance at Sygeanor to know that this was not a viable option. Quietly he asked, \"In the last moments before you returned to your body, you uttered a single word fraught with raw emotion.\"\n\nSygeanor nodded gravely. \"Murder...yes, those images remain vivid and stark in my mind's eye. Lorio killed an Emercian soldier and then expedited Emian's death.\"\n\nThe chamber erupted in a hail of questions and more anguished denial. Inos raised his right hand in a silent plea for calm. \"When you say expedited...you infer that his death was caused by something else?\"\n\nSygeanor's limpid eyes narrowed, understanding that she was about to deliver what was effectively the death knell to the world's flimsy hope. \"It was Islena who killed Emian...Lorio merely insured that he would not be able to divulge what he had just discovered to the other party members...the two that remain.\"\n\nA deathly hush befell the assembly...a brooding, somber silence more suited to the mourning of the dead and the extinction of all hope. Inos stole a furtive glance at the faces around him and found that each of his countrymen wore masks of pernicious despair.\n\n' _As always, the burden of rousing our hope and spirits falls to me,'_ he thought, even as his own heart felt leaden with immobilizing dejection.\n\n\"Do you have any sense of why Islena might have killed Emian?\" Inos inquired, dreading the answer, while realizing that comprehension of what had befallen the party was essential if they intended to develop a strategy of how they might proceed beyond this horrifying, revelatory moment.\n\nSygeanor arched an eyebrow cryptically and set about explaining the circumstances that had precipitated Emian's death at the hands of the world's purported savior. \"My passage through the Land of Shades has provided me with several rather startling insights into the nature of this mystical realm. I can tell you that mortal presence does sully its strange majesty.\"\n\nShe then elaborated on her discovery of the residue trails that had allowed her to track and eventually locate the party. \"A huge precipice separates the lower and upper lands. The rock face is fraught with innumerable and decidedly ominous gray bulbs, each of which serves as a cocoon for a species of large and venomous spider. As I've mentioned, when the party came into conflict with the hostile inhabitants of the realm, the battle produced a kind of intense aural residue in the form of a dull red vapor. On one section of the rock face, this residue was particularly dense and spread over an enormous area.\"\n\n\"So when the party scaled this face, they evidently roused these guardians,\" Inos interjected thoughtfully.\n\nSygeanor nodded in affirmation. \"Precisely. The scope of the battle must have been epic. During its course, Islena was stung by one of the spiders, but as she is warded by the puissance of the Jerhia Icon, her body did not succumb to the poison. Still, the residual virulence has had other effects...effects that are no less catastrophic with regards to the quest and its ultimate success.\"\n\n\"Essentially, you are saying that the poison has effected her mind...distorted her perception to the point that she would perceive friends as foes?\"\n\nSygeanor offered the elder a sardonic grin. \"Ah, but you are astute, Inos. The virulence has suffused Islena's system, occluding her reason in the process. She now views the world from the blighted depths of extreme paranoia, where the actions of all around her are motivated by conspiracy and treachery. While under the pall of this virulence, she deliberately slaughtered Emian. Who can ever truly know why?\"\n\n\"Then this quest is indeed over. In this state, she poses as much threat to our world as does the wicked queen,\" Xkador pointed out, expressing the grim sentiment of all present. \"To think that this woman still commands the power of the Dragonsword is horrifying beyond the pall of the mind to fathom.\"\n\n\"There is another observation that I feel compelled to relate,\" Sygeanor interjected. \"With each successive conflict, Islena has been forced to expend even greater amounts of arcane energy. Logic dictates that this cannot continue without dire consequences.\"\n\nInos greeted this but of grim conjecture with a sigh and closed his eyes as a dejected hush fell over the hall, lingering like a miasma for several moments.\n\n\"Could it be that it was this eventuality that the enchantress anticipated when she evidently defied prudence by summoning Islena Doraux to our world...a woman who was proclaimed by prophesy to be her bane?\" Jerrod wondered. His comment directed to no one in particular.\n\nXkador shook his head with obvious impatience for the junior member of the Inner Circle. \"I doubt that even Myrhia could have foreseen such a dire eventuality. More pertinent yet, we must never lose sight of the fact that the High Queen covets the Proclamations, which is why she simply does not kill its wielder and thus remove the threat. If Sygeanor's assessment of Islena's condition is at all accurate, then she will prove no more value to Myrhia than she does to us.\"\n\n\"I tend to agree with Xkador on this matter,\" Brazol declared, his tone suggested that he found this rare concurrence somehow repugnant. \"Since we believe that Myrhia cannot employ the Proclamations directly, it follows that she is supremely confident that she can manipulate this woman. As it is now, Islena is subservient to nothing but the unpredictable whims of her affliction.\"\n\nTokizar shuddered. \"Where does all of this leave us? Obviously, the quest is essentially a dead issue. Myrhia requires Islena Doraux to realize her odious ambitions beyond this world...while we needed her aid merely to survive. If her influence in the course of events is negated, we still find ourselves in a position of extreme disadvantage.\"\n\nInos heard these last few speculative exchanges the way that one might hear whispers echoing down the length of a long corridor. Somewhere in the fertile soil of his incisive mind, the seed of a perilous notion had begun to germinate. He glanced at the faces around him to see that each wore identical expressions of sinking despair. In the nadir of his leadership, Inos assumed the mantle of the stalwart champion of unflagging optimism. If his country was to avoid surrendering to bleak resignation, it would be incumbent upon him to propel his people out of the miasma of defeatism that had settled like a funeral shroud over those tasked with finding a miracle to deliver Metocan and by extension, the free world out of the jaws of seemingly inevitable annihilation.\n\nComposing himself, he rose to his feet, trying to order his racing thoughts into a coherent plan...a plan that had first began to coalesce in his mind when Sygeanor had first mentioned her demands.\n\nWhen he spoke, his tone was authoritative, adamant and stern, \"If Islena and the hope of the Proclamations are lost to us then so be it. If this turn of fate has neutralized the enchantress' machinations, then we must consider ourselves well served by this unexpected twist of fate. For one, I have grown tired of cowering behind the Hiberas like a frightened child, hoping to avoid harsh discipline. It is time to seize the initiative. Sygeanor has divined the nature and source of Myrhia's engines of destruction. Somehow the High Queen has found a way to instill life into inanimate masses of clay. What's more, we have learned that the only source of this clay is located in seams deep in the mines of Redia. It is for the mining of these deposits of clay that Myrhia has conscripted armies of slave laborers.\"\n\nHe paused for a protracted moment and carefully scrutinized the face of the other members of the Inner Circle, relieved to find that every face displayed the first stirrings of genuine interest, if not open excitement.\n\nInos continued, attempting to stoke the flames of that burgeoning excitement...knowing that even the faintest glimmer of hope was preferable to utter despair. \"Armed with this knowledge as well as Sygeanor's formidable power, I believe that we can strike a blow at the enchantress and deny her this one source of precious clay.\"\n\nThis evoked a torrent of animated discussion amongst the others, who seemed to seize upon the notion as if it was salvation itself. Then Xkador rouse to cast his usual dour shadow over the stirring mood. \"Even if we were to obliterate this one source of the raw material, the enchantress has already raised a sufficient army to obliterate any and all opposition.\"\n\n\"True,\" Inos admitted as though conceding a minor point in a philosophical debate. \"Nonetheless, every journey must commence with a single step. First we prevent further proliferation of the Morticants and then we can concern ourselves with devising a method of stopping the ones that already exist. The diversion of the Hiberas has afforded us this opportunity.\"\n\n\"What are your intentions?\" Brazol inquired, but beneath his externally calm tone, Inos could discern a measure of eagerness born of desperation.\n\n\"The specifics of my plan must first be discussed with Maxim Tier Marshall Maroc. I'm not suggesting that my proposal is not an extreme gamble. There are some practical questions that must be addressed before I can apprise you of the final details.\" The Grand Mage abruptly turned to Sygeanor. \"Before any preparations can be made, I must ask one things of you; are you willing to cross the Hiberas and try to locate Myrhia?\"\n\nFor a protracted moment, Sygeanor did not reply, instead intently searching the elders' eyes for some hint of hidden purpose or deception. Seeing none, she merely nodded.\n\nInos clapped his hands together. \"Very good...then let us go to Maxim Tier Marshall Maroc.\"\n\nChapter Ten\n\n1\n\nLike many things in the Land of Shades, the land's reaction to Doraux's cleansing of its malevolence was simply too astounding to fully grasp within the confines of the five normal senses. Within the span of a few hours, all signs of the blight, which had affected this section of the Upper Land for more than a hundred millennia, had been effaced. In its place had sprung greenery of every conceivable type...the lush vegetation filling the clean air with a thousand intoxicating scents. Even the towering vampire trees had undergone a radical transformation and now stood to the cobalt blue sky like edifices of splendor. Gone were the appalling black leaves with their blood red veins. They had fallen in harmless drifts, melting away to dust and disturbing memories in a matter of minutes.\n\nIronically, the only thing to detract from the majesty and glorious rebirth of this wondrous place was the dark pall cast by the very party that had rescued the land from its possessing demon.\n\nIslena lay in the shade of one of the large trees, tossing fitfully in the grip of her virulence. Even in the fevered embrace of sleep, her smooth brow was furrowed by the consuming terror of nightmares that could scarcely be imagined. The alleyways of her powerful body had become a raging river of constant conflict where the Jerhia collective warred with the spider's poison over control of Doraux's beleaguered mind.\n\nArminda hovered nearby, regarding her plight from a perspective that wavered between utter indifference to outright loathing.\n\n' _Would all of existence not be better served by your death, you odious woman?'_ she wondered as Doraux convulsed in the depths of her infirmity.\n\nShe briefly cut her eyes to Gillian, who sat perched against a large maple tree, his angular face vacuous and slack. In that moment of pervasive dejection, the pretty blond found that she actually envied his unknowing stupor. Better the mindless void than being fully cognizant and forced to suffer through the complete and seemingly irreversible loss of hope.\n\nThe great quest was dead, and like the death of a great beast, it was left to Arminda to convey that news back to the waiting world, where it could be interred in the putrescent clay of despair. The prospect of the long and peril fraught journey was insufferably depressing and so she shut it out of her mind, instead turning her thoughts to recollections of her time spent in Emian's company. The Metocan had, perhaps by tacit agreement, taken upon himself the role of her sage and mentor after she had convinced herself that she was reduced and thus worthless.\n\nLorio finished the task of interring the two party members with a graceful efficiency that characterized her every action. Since Islena had delivered it from its tormentor, this section of land had proven remarkable pliable. With only the Emercian's sword to do the digging, the hybrid had expected a protracted and arduous task, but the fresh soil had turned up in great clods and she had managed to excavate two adequate graves in less than the space of an hour.\n\n' _Certainly more than either of these two reprobates deserve,'_ she thought as she rolled both into their respective final resting placed.\n\nAs she labored to return the earth to the pits, Lorio contemplated the present situation and how she should proceed given Arminda's decision to renege upon the quest.\n\n' _You've been derelict, Lorio,'_ a tiny voice observed reproachfully and this was irrefutably true. She had made no real effort to keep Myrhia apprised of this hopeless odyssey's status, though her reticent nature had given her every opportunity to do so. Lorio was loathe to entertain considerations of why she had been negligent because such questions would only progress to more confounding matter of introspection that filled her with a dread she could not credit.\n\nStill, contacting Myrhia was now unavoidable. She wondered distantly how the enchantress might react to the news that the quest had been aborted. Lorio expected that her reaction would be one of immense relief. There could be little doubt that the coalition's knowledge of Artumas' continued existence had filled the normally unflappable Myrhia with a vague, yet profound disquiet as if fate itself was conspiring against her machinations.\n\n' _Ah, but it is a disquiet that has roused a certain dark delight in your glacial heart,'_ the inner voice persisted. The idea roused a rare and lovely smile on the hybrid's face; an expression that, when combined with her exotic beauty, rivaled the splendor of a sunrise. It occurred to her that this smile was one of the many things that the enchantress had stolen from her in exchange as her role as an eternal servant.\n\nIf she apprised Myrhia of the current state of the party, Myrhia would undoubtedly instruct her to kill the two Jerhia and return Doraux to Natzurdan, where Myrhia could find a way to exorcise the demon that plagued the one of prophecy...or perhaps even turn that demon to her will, transmogrifying Islena into the ultimate engine of pure evil.\n\nThere was a critical flaw in this line of thinking, something omitted or overlooked, but Lorio could not resolve the paradox into sharp focus. Instead, it mocked and taunted her from the recesses of her subconscious. Suddenly, impulsively, Lorio decided that she would not allow Arminda to terminate the quest and she would not communicate its present status to Myrhia. She scarcely underestimated her motivation for this flagrant act of defiance, but correctly deduced that it found its origins in her ambivalence toward Islena. She knew only that her actions were dangerous in the extreme, but this knowledge did little to deter her from her intended course.\n\nThough she was unaware of the fact, this sly defiance demonstrated that more of the old Lorio's disposition had survived the transition than either she or the damnable enchantress had thought possible.\n\nAs Lorio packed the last of the earth into Emian's grave with the soles of her worn leather boots, she stole a furtive glance at Arminda. The Jerhia's pretty, youthful face was twisted into a morose caricature of loss which Lorio found amusing in its intensity. Emian's death had thoroughly unnerved the girl, which was understandable as he had expended a large portion of his time bolstering her fragile ego. Now he was gone and the poor wretch could not muster the wherewithal to carry on without his sage council.\n\n' _Then you will have to fulfill that role in his stead,'_ she told herself, though the prospect was certainly distasteful.\n\nStanding erect, she drove the Emercian's sword deep into the soil of his grave. The she stood back and considered both with feigned solemnity. After a moment, she turned to Arminda and declared, \"It is done. Perhaps this is not the most ideal of locations, but it is the best that circumstances will allow.\"\n\nArminda responded with a morose grunt. Reaching behind her, she took hold of the Jerhia Icon and with great effort, tossed it toward Lorio. \"It might be wise to dig another hole for this damnable symbol of evil.\"\n\nLorio glanced at the sword as it lay benignly in the grass. From her perspective, it was difficult to believe that the elegantly crafted weapon was anything more than that...a well-crafted killing tool.\n\nDistantly, she remarked, \"Arminda, I commiserate with your sorrow. Emian was a wise and noble man, who certainly deserved better than this blackly ironic death that fate has seen fit to bestow upon him. What's more, I can appreciate that he was your close personal friend.\"\n\n\"Do you really?\" the Jerhia retorted bitterly. \"I wonder if you have any true concept of the meaning and value of friendship at all.\" Her petulant tone grated upon Lorio's nerves, but the hybrid savagely clamped down on her anger, knowing that she could later extract revenge for every malicious word this Halfling bitch uttered.\n\n\"I even grasp your enmity, Arminda,\" Lorio began softly, \"but I assure you that it is ill-placed. Can you say honestly that I have not served the quest well?\"\n\nThe Jerhia frowned at this query and averted her eyes as a tacit concession of the validity of Lorio's point. To her astonishment, the Lamish warrior came and sat next to her, even putting her arm around her shoulder in a decidedly sisterly gesture. \"I understand that there have been occasions when it seemed that I have treated you in a cruel and derisive manner. Setting aside the emotional coloring, do you still believe that this was my actual intent?\"\n\nArminda glanced at Lorio, peering searchingly into her dark brown eyes, which were normally inscrutable, but now radiated genuine warmth. Pensively, the Jerhia shook her head. Ultimately, Lorio's harsh ministrations only served to pull her out of her emotional malaise that had followed her paralysis.\n\n\"If I have been reticent...aloof...it is only to mask my own constant torment. Surliness is simply how I deal with pain.\"\n\n\"And now you've decided to change...to become affable?\" Arminda demanded suspiciously.\n\nLorio gazed around her and spread her arms in a gesture of encompassment. \"Look about, sister. You and I are the only members of the quest still in possession of our full senses. It would be sheer lunacy to maintain this posture of cold reticence.\"\n\nArminda nodded, though her eyes still conveyed both suspicion and doubt. Lorio suddenly reached for the Jerhia's good hand, holding it tenderly in her own. \"I am asking for your forgiveness and friendship, Arminda. What's more, I pledge my fealty to you. Irrespective of how you elect to proceed from this moment, we are going to need each other. Better to entrust your life to a friend than an enemy.\"\n\nArminda searched Lorio's eyes for any hint of guile and finding none, smiled tentatively, to which Lorio responded by drawing the smaller woman into a hug. Only when her face was turned away from the Jerhia, did the hybrid allow her true sentiments to show...the raw, churning scorn that darkened her heart. Her disarming smile was at once transformed into a mask of contempt.\n\nThe Jerhia finally disengaged herself and sighed, \"I apologize for my curtness earlier.\"\n\nLorio shrugged it off with a dismissive wave of her hand. \"There is no need. After the trauma of discovering your friend's horrific murder, it is only natural to be disturbed. Arminda, this excursion has been fraught with enough peril to test the mettle of Artumas himself. You have acquitted yourself beyond all possible expectations.\"\n\nArminda accepted this unexpected and effusive compliment with a solemn nod, knowing that Lorio was not one to dispense hollow praise. A speculative light dawned in her eyes and she mustered the courage to pose the question that had hovered at the edges of her consciousness for some time, though she had dared not pose it to the stoic and inaccessible Lorio.\n\nNow, in the warmth of this newfound sisterhood, the Jerhia at last found the courage to give it voice. \"Lorio, with me and the others, this undertaking of the search for Artumas was perceived as an obligation...a duty of honor to preserve our ancient ways of life and stop the proliferation of Myrhia's tyranny. Yet with you, I sense none of this.\"\n\nLorio stiffened as though affronted by the intimation, but Arminda placed a placating hand on her forearm. \"I mean no offense Lorio, but you simply have no real stake in the survival of the CornerStone Nations. If these three cultures were effaced from the world, it would have very little effect upon you. I am speaking with total candor now.\"\n\nLorio, who had always eschewed any form of soul-baring, nodded tightly, but Arminda seemed oblivious to her discomfort. \"I doubt very much that you are convinced that this quest serves any real purpose. Other than your hatred of Myrhia, there is very little to bind you to our cause and yet you have consistently risked your life and have displayed greater bravery and resolve than the rest of us combined. Perhaps I have no right to ask this question, but I would wish to know what motivates you?\"\n\nLorio shifted her gaze, though she was still aware of the Jerhia's intense regard touching the side of her face with palpable insistence. The meddlesome bitch had no concept of how dangerous this question could be for Lorio. It opened doors to deep introspection and forced the hybrid to contemplate matters that could literally fragment her identity. Despite these daunting hazards, Lorio saw little alternative but to offer some manner of response. \"I can deny very little of what you've said. This quest does strike me as a fool's expedition and as to the fate of the CornerStone Nations, I am indifferent...as has the rest of the world been to the suffering of the Lamish over the centuries.\"\n\nShe then glanced at Arminda, and for the first time that the Jerhia could recall, her lovely face was open and vulnerable. The moment of intense empathy that passed between the pair caused the diminutive blond to shudder beneath its power. \"I agreed to join this quest for one reason and one reason alone...I love Islena. I would give my life for her without thought or hesitation. If you require an explanation for my bravery...it is simply that.\"\n\nArminda could conjure no appropriate response and so she merely nodded. Ironically, it was at that moment that Islena regained consciousness. As had been the case on the other occasions, Islena came out of her fitful slumber in a disoriented panic, gasping like an exhausted swimmer who has barely skirted disaster. She pushed herself into a sitting position and gazed around in wide-eyed distress, clearly unsure of the circumstances in which she now found herself. After a moment, she clutched the back of her head, which for some inexplicable reason, throbbed dully.\n\nLorio watched her carefully and was privately relieved to find that exquisite emerald eyes were not occluded by any hint of virulence. At least for the time being, Islena was back in control of her mind. The hybrid quickly moved over to comfort Doraux, kneeling down and holding the muscular woman, while Arminda regarded Islena with a mixture of distrust and aversion.\n\n\"What...what has happened?\" Islena stammered in a voice made tremulous with apprehension. The tension that hovered over both Lorio and Arminda was a palpable thing. Lorio pondered how the episodes of disorientation must be terrifying and stole a quick glance at Arminda, whose face had congealed into a bitter frown of pure acrimony. Perplexed, Islena turned a beseeching gaze upon the hybrid. \"I had dreams Lorio...nightmares really...in which I committed brutal, unspeakable acts. In many ways, I had become every bit as vile as Myrhia.\"\n\nThe recollection made her shudder violently and she uttered a strangled moan, clutching the Lamish warrior arm tightly. \"I recall sensing that there was something drastically wrong with the land that we were about to enter...as if willful evil had actually permeated the very soil and rock of this place. Then...\"\n\nIslena's face crumpled in frustration as recollection faded into a series of disjointed images which were as terrifying as they were obscure. Lorio smoothed her damp hair away from her brow as Doraux sagged against her.\n\nAs Arminda watched the two, a smoldering anger built slowly in the pit of her guts, stoked by an uncharacteristic malice toward a woman she had once regarded as a heroic being to be idolized. Slowly, she rose and came to stand beside the pair, her pretty face set in grim lines of concentration. Islena became aware of the Jerhia's seething presence and offered the Jerhia a tentative smile. \"Is all well with you, Arminda?\"\n\n\"As well as one might expect...all things considered,\" She replied in a discordant tone that was all sugar and acid. Puzzled by the Jerhia's demeanor, Islena shook her head in dismay. Arminda took another step close, pointedly ignoring a scowling Lorio's baleful glare, and added, \"Certainly I fare better than Emian or our Emercian companion.\"\n\nDoraux's head snapped to Lorio, horror dawning in her lovely green eyes. \"What is she trying to say? Where is Emian?\"\n\nLorio merely averted her eyes and Islena felt her heart wrench painfully in her chest. She attempted to climb to her feet, but Lorio held her down with considerable effort.\n\n\"Arminda, where is Emian?\" Islena demanded shrilly and the Jerhia glowered, no longer able to suppress her tears of outrage. She allowed her anger to pour forth in a boiling deluge, knowing that it was misdirected as she did, but helpless to desist. \"As always, you acquitted yourself heroically, Islena...banishing evil and saving your hapless companions.\"\n\nShe spread her arms in an all-encompassing gesture, her voice rising hysterically. \"You've restored this troubled land to verdant health...something I would have thought only a God could achieve. Oh, but like any true deity, you can be oh so cruel!\"\n\nIslena shook her head in consternation, clearly perplexed by the Jerhia's scathing tirade. Still, Arminda was relentless in her verbal assault on a bewildered Doraux. \"You asked where Emian might be. One glance will provide the answer to your question and perhaps allow you to a painful glimpse of your true nature...you monstrous, hateful bitch!\"\n\nArminda extended her slender right arm and Islena reluctantly tracked it with her gaze, suddenly coming to rest upon two stark mounds of freshly turned earth. The two slight bumps, now barely perceptible in the new grass, spoke with a bitterly eloquent finality. Islena grasped the implication of those two stark mounds of earth all too well.\n\nHot tears welled up in the emerald eyes that had squeezed shut as if to negate the horrible implication of those two freshly dug graves. \"Lorio is what she saying true...is Emian dead?\"\n\nThe listless voice was utterly devoid of life...so unlike Islena's normally dulcet, vibrant tone...that Lorio frowned in dismay. She suddenly felt a nearly irrepressible desire to rip Arminda's throat out with her teeth. Was the girl so oblivious that she could not equate extreme trauma with Islena's lapses into virulence-fuelled madness? This venting of ultimately pointless acrimony could well drive Doraux deeper into the black embrace of the poison's deadly thrall. Still, there was no way to avoid providing the answer that Doraux obviously dreaded. \"Emian is dead...as is the Emercian.\"\n\n\"And it was you who killed them!\" Arminda exploded venomously and then spun away, her words degenerating into inarticulate sobs of anguish. Stricken, Islena turned to Lorio for affirmation and needed only a brief glance into those dark eyes to know that the Jerhia's horrifying accusation was rooted in truth...a damning accusation that threatened to propel her into the arms of permanent madness.\n\nA strident wail tore from her lips, just as Islena's knees unhinged, sending her tumbling to the newborn grass. Her cries of negation were piteous and bleak...a spirally howl of self-loathing and despair that threatened to consume the grieving woman in its intensity. Still braying, Islena began to wriggle through the grass, hooking her fingers into the oozing earth as she hauled herself toward the Metocan's grave.\n\nWith her own tears of sorrow flowing freely, Arminda viewed Islena's torment dispassionately. Rushing over to Islena and yanking her head up until their faces were only inches apart, the Jerhia snarled, \"I'm unimpressed by your misery. However much emotional turmoil you might be feeling and however much persecution and cruelty you have yet to face, it will never be enough to atone for what you've done to Emian.\"\n\nThen she was gone, sprinting away from the clearing with her strident sobs trailing behind her.\n\nIslena hung her head in dejection, a low, guttural groan arising from somewhere in the pit of her tortured soul, and continued to grope toward the Metocan's humble resting place. When she finally reached the low mound, Islena pressed herself into the soft earth and pushed her face directly into the grass.\n\nFrom where a riveted Lorio stood, she could hear the muffled resonations of Islena's wretched weeping and struggled to insulate herself against Islena's poignant grief. The Hybrid was emotional inadequate to the task of empathizing with another's suffering and loss, having always regarded grief as a sign of weakness. She much preferred combat to the role of emotional Wailing Wall and she now found herself paralyzed and unable to go to Islena and offer the comfort she so desperately required.\n\nShe stole a brief glance at the reviled Gillian and found that she suddenly envied his state of vacuous disorientation. Lending from his example, she merely sat against a tree and watched quietly as Islena's outpouring of sorrow played out as even the most profound of suffering must eventually do.\n\n2\n\nInos and Sygeanor wound their way through the maze-like interior of Othgol's central palace, to the quarters that had been assigned to Maroc and the other surviving members of the Jerhia upper tier.\n\nInos had seen very little of the Jerhia Maxim Tier Marshall over the past weeks, knowing that the warrior had immersed himself in the devising of theoretical plans for a counter strike across the Hiberas that both knew would never be implemented. Still, he decided that it was better to engage his mind in theoretical exercises of warfare than to brood over all that had been lost and the hopelessness of their current position.\n\nInos knocked on the chamber door and heard a gruff summons to enter. The Grand Mage opened the door and ushered Sygeanor inside. When his eyes finally adjusted to the gloom, he was shocked by the condition of the Jerhia Tier Marshall. Maroc appeared as if he had scarcely slept in the past several weeks. His rich brown eyes burned with exhaustion and his skin seemed pale, almost sallow, in the inadequate candlelight of the dismal chamber. The chamber was a dismal reflection of the man who occupied it. The heavy drapes had been drawn tightly shut as if to ward off the light, but still the elder could see that the quarters were littered with the detritus of half-eaten meals and scattered clothing.\n\nTwo large tables were set end to end at the center of the room and upon these were arranged a large selection of topographical and military maps as well as a host of measuring devices and writing implements. It was before this table that Maroc stood, hunched over a large map of Natzurdan, diligently sketching the new course of the Hiberas with a charcoal pencil. There was an aspect of madness about his engrossed deportment that Inos found profoundly unsettling.\n\n' _This is how the precise, purpose-driven military mind appears when it begins to disintegrate...when the weight of failure and the cumulative effects of death begin to exert themselves on that implacable confidence,'_ Inos thought dismally and glanced at Sygeanor, who was regarding the Maxim Tier Marshall with a faint moue of distaste playing at her lips.\n\n\"Ah Inos, do come in,\" the Jerhia declared ebulliently, gesturing towards two seats that were virtually buried beneath mountains of scrolls. He suddenly seemed aware of their dismayed reaction to the state of his quarters and offered the pair a sheepish shrug of embarrassment. \"I realized that I've neglected the place somewhat, but I've been...pre-occupied.\" He fell silent for a moment as he stroked his bristled chin reflectively. \"Yes...most busy.\"\n\n\"Maroc, I'd like to introduce you to Sygeanor. I've appointed her to serve as my personal adept for the remainder of this crisis,\" Inos announced. The Jerhia smiled broadly and came around the table to shake the Ulgak's hand, which the girl offered with no small degree of reluctance, though Maroc appeared not to notice.\"\n\n\"Maroc, I've come to consult you on a matter of critical importance, though first I must inform you of what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours,\" Inos began and clearly intrigued, the Tier Marshall gestured for the elder to proceed. The Grand Mage was relieved to see keen interest spark to life in the man's eyes and hoped that this endeavor could rouse him from his present state of manic avoidance. In a concise, dispassionate manner, Inos related the tale of all that had come to pass in the last two days, beginning with Sygeanor's revelation of her extraordinary power (but excluding details of her audacious extortion) and concluding with the discovery that the quest had floundered and Islena had fallen under the thrall of some murderous virulence.\n\nWhen the Metocan had reached the end of his monologue, Maroc reacted only by remarking, \"We find ourselves in a state of affairs that one could hardly describe as fortuitous. If Doraux is indeed under the thrall of pernicious venom, she will pose a menace to friend and foe alike.\"\n\nInos shrugged in a gesture of agreement. \"If it is possible to discern benefit in such a calamity, we might take heart from the knowledge that Doraux's infirmity effectively foils the enchantress' vision of exporting her campaign of conquest to worlds beyond our own.\"\n\nThe pair continued to discuss the situation for several moments, while Sygeanor studied both men in a brooding silence. Despite her initial impression of the man's eccentricity, she perceived that the Maxim Tier Marshall possessed a keen and tactically-innovative mind. He was obvious quick to grasp the salient facts governing any given situation and in response, develop practical, viable strategies to deal with whatever problems and complexities these new realities might pose. With the party in utter disarray and at the hateful bitch Lorio's mercy, it did not require a master strategist to deduce that this new reality was exceedingly bleak.\n\n\"How do you judge Arminda's ability to effectively deal with this imposing situation?\" Inos inquired without harboring any real hope that this particular situation could yet be salvaged.\n\nMaroc frowned and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. \"The girl is an exceptionally talented archer and has courage beyond question. Her academic background provided her with training in the rudiments of leadership, but she is essentially untested. As we both know, leadership cannot truly be taught. Skills can be honed, but they cannot be imparted to those who simply do not possess them. It is nearly impossible to predict how Arminda will avail herself in a situation that would challenge the most sage of leaders. One can only imagine the intense pressure that she must feel. This is a situation without precedent in the history of our world...or without equal in its gravity.\"\n\n\"You are more of a politician than I might have suspected,\" Inos observed with an amused grin. \"Under the circumstances as we understand them, what can we realistically expect to transpire?\"\n\nMaroc sighed elaborately and cast his charcoal pencil onto the table. \"Gillian is impaired. Lorio has been revealed as an agent of the Queen. Even this might be surmountable were it not for the fact that Islena has been stricken by the virulence. Considered as a whole, I would offer that it would be prudent to discount the quest as a potential source of hope in our struggle with Myrhia.\"\n\nAgain, Inos signaled his concurrence with a tight nod, and then he glanced at Sygeanor, who watched him closely from behind her inscrutable gray eyes. \"As you say Maroc...I see no other sensible course of action but to assume that the search for Artumas and the Proclamations will end in eventual failure.\"\n\n\"Thus we are reduced to the role of apprehensive quarry...sheep waiting fearfully for the wolf to come and claim its prize.\"\n\nInos greeted this dire pronouncement with an uncharacteristically predacious grin. \"Perhaps not so helpless.\"\n\nMaroc arched an inquisitive eyebrow. \"Something tells me that there is a scheme in the works.\"\n\n\"In the formative stages only,\" the Metocan elder disclosed with a grin. Then his expression darkened significantly. \"What I'm about to propose might seem to be a prohibitive risk, but in light of what has transpired in the west, the risk is attenuated by necessity. Still, there are certain aspects that we must consider in deciding if my strategy is even viable. This is why we have come to you.\"\n\n\"Without hubris, I dare say that tactics and strategy are my forte,\" Maroc remarked, his expression conveying his gratitude to finally be of some perceived value.\n\n\"When we consider the problems of confronting Myrhia's advancing army, what has been the most daunting factor?\" Inos asked.\n\n\"The Morticants, naturally,\" Maroc responded automatically. \"Without their assistance, I would wager that Myrhia's conventional armies would still be struggling for every inch of ground on the eastern continent.\"\n\nInos beamed a satisfied smile. \"Precisely. The seemingly invincible abominations have surmounted every obstacle...overcome every defense...except for the Hiberas and it would be extremely foolish to assume that the enchantress will not devise a method of overcoming even that barrier...given sufficient time. Thus, because they spearhead her invasion, our first priority must be finding a way to permanently neutralize the Morticants.\"\n\n\"That statement would brook no argument,\" Maroc agreed. \"Yet, we have no understanding of their nature.\"\n\n\"Until now!\" Inos amended, obviously delighted by the Jerhia's surprised reaction. The Metocan elder then proceeded to relate the stunning details of Sygeanor's revelation and Maroc's surprise escalated into full blown astonishment.\n\n\"An invincible warrior animated from mere clay? Can such a thing be possible?\" His gaze shifted to Sygeanor, who pursed her lips and arched a tapered eyebrow, her manner aloof, if not openly condescending. Inos winced, but Maroc pretended not to notice.\n\n\"Most assuredly, Maxim Tier Marshall,\" she replied softly. \"The sheer simplicity of the concept speaks volumes about the astounding extent of Myrhia's intellect. Mere clay, as you so erroneously refer to it, cannot suffer or die. It is incapable of independent thought or ambition and thus makes an ideal warrior serf. For a tyrant such as Myrhia, the Morticants are the ideal subjects. She need never concern herself with worries of sedition or betrayal.\"\n\nMaroc considered this thoughtfully and then, glancing at Inos, inquired, \"Have you devised a method of destroying the Morticants?\"\n\nThe elder shook his head regretfully. \"Unfortunately not, though understanding their origins is the first step in that direction...though an admittedly miniscule step. Next we must attempt to unravel the mystery of Myrhia's magic and formulate a method of reversing it. That would take considerable time.\"\n\nMaroc grimaced, clearly perplexed. The elder was suffused by a scarcely contained excitement, but the Tier Marshall could find little in what he'd been told to warrant anything other than unrelenting gloom. Inos discerned Maroc's confusion and bid the Jerhia to attend him at the map table, where he studied the rendering of northern and central Natzurdan. \"It is true that we have not contrived a way to neutralize the Morticants, but we have conceived a way to stop their proliferation.\"\n\nA gleam of genuine interest flickered in Maroc's light brown eyes. \"Go on.\"\n\n\"You must understand that my concept is in its infancy and the logic upon which it is predicated may be seriously flawed. This is why I require your expertise...to detect any blemishes and smooth them out. Redia is the only known source of the particular clay which the enchantress employs in raising her abominations. I confess that my knowledge of Redian geology and geography is woefully lacking, but it is my understanding that these clay seams are located in deposits in mines that run deep beneath the mountains.\"\n\nMaroc nodded, the nascent stirrings of understanding igniting like a bright spark in his mind. He cast his glance briefly at the large map of the eastern continent...now completely under the High Queen's fist. Redia, the northern most country along the eastern coast, was shaded in a dark, aggressive red and cross-hatched in a style that depicted a politically belligerent country or hostile tyranny. In truth, Redia was little more than a loose affiliation of thieves, terrorists and hooligans that had long stood as a menace and would have posed an even greater threat to the eastern continent had it not been for the chieftains' inability to set aside their personal quarrels. Only once in pre-Myrhia history had they managed to subjugate their petty egos and ride forth from Redia with the intent towards serious conquest. On that occasion, Artumas had put a quick and emphatic end to their ambition, effectively putting the rogue nation back into its box.\n\nRedia had been reduced to a wild, lawless territory and it might have remained that way had it not been for the coming of the enchantress. By sparing several Redian mercenaries from the executioner, Myrhia had managed to earn their loyalty even before she chose to reveal her true nature. Then, she simply crushed the more contentious chieftains and drew the lawless territory squarely under her boot heels and honed it into a well-trained, deadly dog that had gleefully performed the tasks which the regular Emercian army found repugnant.\n\nIt was in the mines of Redia that Myrhia had discovered the alchemic raw element that would eventually allow her to dispense with mortal minions entirely. This blue clay was particular only to the northern mountains of Redia, occurring in seams in the great basalt shields. It was in these mines that untold thousands of men, women and children had given their lives to provide this raw element for the High Queen's terrible engine of conquest.\n\n\"For the longest time, we subscribed to the notion that Myrhia was collecting slaves to fuel her economy and help search for precious metals and gems,\" Maroc mused. \"Clearly her interests were more prosaic than a common tyrant's greed for baubles.\"\n\n\"True,\" Inos agreed. \"The mercurial enchantress can never be described as common.\"\n\nThe trio fell silent for several moments and finally Maroc prompted, \"I take it that your plan revolves around the knowledge that this blue clay is the building block for Myrhia's monstrosities?\"\n\n\"There are two crucial factors that will determine if my scheme is viable,\" the Metocan remarked cryptically and led the pair over the map table. He studied the large, linen map of the two continents for several seconds and then began to elaborate. \"The causeways into both Natzurdan and Jerhia were both effectively destroyed, though it is still not clear if the enchantress managed to restore these links to the eastern continent. When we diverted the Hiberas, we did so under the assumption that Myrhia's army would be effectively cut off from retreat to the east.\"\n\nMaroc's brow knitted in concentration as he studied the map, mentally constructing a picture of the route that the deadly waters might have taken as they cut a swathe across Natzurdan. Sygeanor, too, examined the map intently and as Inos had come to expect, her observation proved particularly incisive. \"Logically we can make no other assumption but to surmise that the waters reach the southern sea. If Myrhia has successfully restored the Jerhia causeway, the inhabitants of the Land of Shades would have poured into the east and occupied southern Natzurdan by now.\"\n\n\"You presume, Sygeanor, that our long held concept of the mysterious realm is correct.\" Maroc reminded the Ulgak, though he could not help but be impressed by the analytical bent of her keen mind.\n\nSygeanor regarded Maroc with a flat expression that was at once patient and disdainful. \"As I might remind you Maxim Tier Marshall, I have beheld this mystical land and know better than anyone, what it holds. I can assure you that the creatures that inhabit that dark place are not without their voracious appetites.\"\n\nMaroc nodded, chastened by the girl brisk rejoinder and Inos could not help but grin, privately amused by his apprentice's assertiveness. The manner in which she had conducted herself had allayed many of his initial misgivings and prompted him toward the realization that it was not magical ability alone which made her an exceptional creature.\n\n\"Very well, let us proceed on the assumption that Myrhia's army is cut off from the eastern continent. We, however, are not.\" Inos said resolutely.\n\nMaroc's grin became positively radiant. \"You're contemplating a strike, I presume.\"\n\nThe Maxim Tier Marshall's immediate enthusiasm was both obvious and infectious. Inos drew his attention to the third causeway which spanned the great mother between Metocan and the Blighted Lands. \"I propose dispatching a raiding party that would cross the Blighted Lands, keeping well north of the River Tynan. Once it reaches Redia, this raiding force will infiltrate and destroy these mines in a series of hit and run attacks. This would eventually eliminate Myrhia's capacity to produce the clay required to animate her Morticants. It might also have the benefit of seriously eroding the morale of Myrhia's Redian allies.\"\n\nMaroc's eyes narrowed as he considered the map, particularly the vast area of emptiness referred to as the Blighted Lands. After a moment, he said, \"I have several immediate concerns, the most pressing of which is the inimical environment that such an expedition would be attempting to cross. The Blighted Lands have nothing that would sustain an army...no potential for forage. Therefore, we would be forced to carry our provisions for the entire campaign. That would seriously hinder our ability to conduct swift raids and then vanish.\"\n\nInos nodded gravely. \"The alternative would be to travel south of the River Tynan where detection would seem inevitable...well before we could reach Redia. Reaching Redia undetected would seem critical if this endeavor is to have any chance of success.\"\n\nMaroc agreed. \"It would be prudent to believe that Myrhia has left a strong presence all throughout the eastern continent to deter any thoughts of insurrection. Furthermore, it would be wise to proceed on the notion that she has dispatched a number of Morticants to bolster her regular troops. Their presence would be sure to keep the local population docile. Despite the hazards, it would still seem preferable to travel across the wastes and hope we can avoid the few roving patrols there might be.\"\n\n\"Upon reaching Redia, the need for rapid strikes and swift movement will become critical,\" Inos continued. \"I propose using light elements of your cavalry to protect Natzurdan and Metocan mages while they combine their talents to locate and destroy the mines. If we are fortunate, we will have destroyed half of her capacity, before the enchantress' army is aware of our presence. The sheer audacity of the undertaking might actually guarantee its success.\"\n\n\"It is a far sight better than sitting idly by and awaiting the moment when Myrhia tires of our existence,\" the Tier Marshall commented, already formulating a list of primary requirements.\n\n\"I will leave the expedition logistics to you,\" Inos said, deferring the Jerhia's military expertise. \"I would make but one request...that both you and Sygeanor assume joint leadership of the expedition. Your tactical expertise will deliver the force to its target where Sygeanor's telekinetic abilities should prove instrumental in destroying the mines.\"\n\nMaroc's assent was given with obvious hesitation, but the Ulgak's large gray eyes narrowed in suspicion as she peered at the Metocan elder.\n\nWordlessly, he pleaded for her forbearance. _'I will explain my decision soon...be patient, Sygeanor.'_\n\nFinally, after a protracted moment, she granted her conditional acceptance with a tacit nod.\n\n\"There is one final factor to be considered and it will prove of paramount importance if we are to even attempt this perilous gambit,\" Inos intoned gravely. \"We must determine precisely where the enchantress is at this moment. I presume that we have succeeded in entrapping her on the Western continent, but it is imperative that we be certain. An erroneous judgment on this matter could mean the utter obliteration of this expeditionary force and that is one risk that I am not willing to condone.\"\n\nHis gaze shifted to Sygeanor, who stiffened perceptibly, correctly anticipating his forthcoming request. \"We must locate the High Queen and you alone possess the telepathic ability to do so.\"\n\nFor a moment, the Ulgak did not respond and Inos began to fear that she would reject his proposal out of hand. There could be no illusion about the danger involved of what he was suggesting she undertake. Venturing into the labyrinth of Myrhia's mind was akin to blithely waltzing into the gaping jaws of a dragon. A tense, expectant silence descended upon the trio and finally Sygeanor declared, \"I will defer to your judgment on this matter Grand Mage, though I would request a private audience to discuss the risks further.\"\n\n\"Granted,\" the elder responded automatically, correctly deducing the nature of her concerns and grateful that she had not chosen to air them before the Jerhia. \"Then we have an agreement in principle. I will apprise the Inner Circle of my decision, while Maroc compiles a list of logistical requirements. We should proceed with all possible haste. I will personally inform Maktir of our decision and hopefully we may entice the Natzurdan into lending their aid.\"\n\n\"Something is certainly needed to rouse the Natzurdan from their despair. The passing of Morzhian and the desecration of their beloved homeland has virtually immobilized the wielders of earth lore,\" Maroc observed grimly.\n\n\"Perhaps our venture might provide the impetus to rouse them from their torpor. Their powers would prove invaluable in destroying the Redian mines,\" Inos agreed.\n\nThe pair spoke for a short while longer and then Sygeanor and Inos took their leave of the Jerhia Maxim Tier Marshall. He watched the pair depart, concerned by the strange relationship that seemed to exist between the pair.\n\nWhen he was again alone, Maroc turned his attention to the assembly of an appropriate force, grateful for the diversion and unmindful of the inherent dangers.\n\n3\n\nInos and his new apprentice made their way through the winding corridors of the central palace in silence, though the elder could discern the turbulence that raged behind the Sygeanor's limpid gray eyes.\n\nOnly when they had ensconced themselves in the privacy of the Grand Mage's chambers, did Sygeanor allow her anger to come boiling to the surface. She pivoted to face Inos with her eyes blazing and her broad features livid. \"It would be unwise to assume a position of guile when dealing with me.\"\n\nInos held out his arms in a protestation of innocence. \"Sygeanor, you have my solemn oath that I have never dealt with you in anything other than a forthright manner. Surely you see that the gambit I've developed is purely spontaneous. You have provided us with a critical wealth of information and I am merely trying to devise a way to capitalize on its value.\"\n\n\"You claim that dispatching me to the east is not an Inner Circle contrivance to dispose of me?\" she demanded in a voice fraught with suspicion.\n\n\"That is precisely what I am telling you,\" Inos retorted, a note of reproach in his tone. \"Frankly, such an absurd allegation is beneath someone of your intelligence. Do you believe me to be so petty that I would sacrifice someone of your inestimable value just to renege on our agreement?\"\n\nShe pursed her lips and turned slightly away from the elder, her expression softening slightly. \"You genuinely view me as having value?\"\n\nInos paused, profoundly shaken by this unexpected question. Despite her enormous power, Sygeanor still required reassurance as though she regarded herself from a position of inferiority. The elder suspected, quite correctly, that this perceived sense of unworthiness found itself in her Ulgak heritage. The Ulgak had long been forced to live with the notion that they were innately inadequate when compared with their Metocan cousins. That single flicker of doubt in Sygeanor's eyes provided the elder with a crystalline insight into the injustice of the Metocan's policy of segregation. \"Sygeanor, other than the mercurial Islena Doraux, you are the free world's most valuable weapon in our struggle against Myrhia. It could well be that Islena is lost to us and thus you would indeed become our sole hope of vanquishing the enchantress.\"\n\n\"And yet you send me east?\" Sygeanor persisted, though this time without rancor.\n\nInos came to stand directly before the girl. \"With you, Sygeanor, I vow always to be candid. This campaign to destroy the minds of Redia will, in truth, accomplish little to bring about Myrhia's defeat. Even if we were to permanently deny her the primary building block for her Morticants, she already possesses sufficient number of the beasts to destroy any and all opposition.\"\n\nShe gazed at him quizzically, though he thought he discerned a flicker of comprehension in her eyes. He realized that he was about to take the first step in educating Sygeanor so that she might someday ascend to the position of Grand Mage. \"There are times when it may become necessary for a leader to take action which serves very little practical value of purpose. Pragmatism is an important trait, but a good leader must also possess the ability to raise a nation out of pervasive despair when required...to fight on when it seems that every conceivable reason to do so has been lost. Do you recall the expression that touched every single face once you disclosed the nature of Islena's infirmity? It was precisely that expression that necessitated that I formulate a quick course of action that might banish it. Had I failed to act, a malaise of bitter despair might well have suffused the very heart of Metocan.\"\n\n\"So you are saying that this expedition serves no practical purpose, despite the extreme inherent dangers that will be face by all who undertake to fulfill it?\" Sygeanor demanded as her outrage prepared to rear its ugly head again.\n\n\"It serves no immediate practical purpose...other than to distract our people from contemplation of their grim predicament. Still, the proliferation of the Morticants must be stopped. If we do devise a method of destroying the abominations, this will endow the destruction of the mines with far greater significance.\"\n\nSygeanor's expression became contemplative and she confessed, \"There is much that I have to learn if I am to succeed you, Inos.\"\n\n\"That simple admission shows that you may well be cut from the proper cloth. If you are willing and attentive, time is a wonderful teacher. This is why I would have you lead the raiding expedition into the east. The task will provide you with a wealth of experience and demonstrate your mettle in the face of peril...something that will be imperative if you are to gain the acceptance of the people of Metocan. Of course, my endorsement will be of some value as well.\"\n\nShe glanced at Inos and he smiled warily. She returned the smile, but after a moment it faltered, transmogrifying into an expression that the elder could scarcely credit...fear. She averted her eyes to the balcony and the mists of Othgol which swirled beyond.\n\n\"The notion of seeking out Myrhia is not without its frightening aspects,\" Sygeanor admitted and Inos saw how expensive such a confession could be for a fiercely independent creature of Sygeanor's ilk.\n\n\"Undoubtedly, but is there something specific that concerns you, Sygeanor?\" Inos prompted gently.\n\nThe girl glanced at the elder briefly and he could glean her reluctance to reveal the precise shape of her fear. \"When I first boasted of my ability to cross the Hiberas, my claim was purely speculative.\"\n\nInos nodded guardedly, already having surmised as much. After another lengthy pause, Sygeanor continued, \"I lack the means to adequately describe the pain I suffered during the crossing. It was terrible even in my astral state and as you witnessed, it very nearly consumed my physical body.\"\n\nShe held forth her bandaged hands as thought to affirm her contentions. \"I fear that another attempt might well complete the job...at least, one so hard on the heels of the first.\"\n\nInos offered the Ulgak a reassuring half-smile. \"Sygeanor, the Inner Circle is not without its talents. I am certain that we can construct a method to ward your physical body against the ravages of the Hiberas.\"\n\nSygeanor nodded tightly. \"I trust you can and that is why I will make the attempt, but in all candor, my fear of the Hiberas is incidental in comparison to the prospect of entering Myrhia's mind. That undertaking is the epitome of horror itself. Myrhia is a dark wonder, perhaps every bit as mysterious as the Land of Shades before we pierced the veil. Like entering the Land of Shades, it requires an intrepid spirit to venture into that particular labyrinth. I can only pray that my courage is equal to the task.\"\n\nInos ventured closed and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. \"Who among us can claim that they never have been assailed by doubt? We need only locate Myrhia, Sygeanor. I would never ask you to attempt to divine the esoteric workings of her mind. I suspect that we will never truly know that nature of that particular beast. Hers is a spirit that lies beyond our narrow sensibilities to grasp.\"\n\nSygeanor raised her gaze to his, searching for a sign of reassurance, which she evidently found. \"Make the preparations, elder.\"\n\nChapter Eleven\n\n1\n\nFor a March night, the weather could only be described as splendid. Distant stars glittered in the heavens like tiny diamonds on a bed of black velvet. Ben Richards gazed through the window of the Toulon Towers Restaurant to the gently rolling waters of Puget Sound, which shimmered dark and mysterious in the silver moonlight.\n\n' _Though not nearly as mysterious as the woman sitting across from me,'_ Richards mused and glanced at Myrhia, whose astounding beauty rivaled the most luminous of heaven's jewels. Attired in a stunning indigo dressed, trimmed with silver sequins, Myrhia was a feast for the senses. As they had entered the elegant French Restaurant which overlooked the harbor, Richards had proudly noted how the diminutive beauty had garnered appreciative glances from both men and women. She had fielded these expressions of admiration with a wistful smile that was strikingly regal.\n\nNow she was watching him with those large, lustrous eyes that he could never read. Her gaze fell upon his cheek like a warm and tender caress. He glanced up, his gaze momentarily hesitated on the enticing expanse of her deep cleavage, and she inquired, \"Deep thoughts, love?\"\n\nHe shook his head and grinned contentedly. \"Just reflecting on how lucky I am.\"\n\nShe smiled radiantly and glanced out over the bay, affording Richards the opportunity to study her profile. It had been three months since he had shed sorrowful tears for his lost wife, in part purging the essence of her painful memory from his system.\n\nIn the time since, he found that her memory touched him only occasionally, like a painful twinge that struck on cold days of rain and shadow. In these dark moments, Richards would be assailed by embarrassment and shame over how seldom he thought of Islena. These isolated moments of regret were always banished by his preoccupation with the woman across from him. Myrhia had effectively suffused his life, engulfing him in her mystery.\n\n' _Feminine mystique,'_ he thought to himself and his eyes again strayed briefly to her full breasts. Myrhia was the quintessence of that very concept...a notion that Richards had suspected to be the stuff of myth. Sexually, she was the most extraordinarily inventive woman he had ever known, bringing an element of keen anticipation to every coupling that often left him delirious with pleasure. Islena's boundless energy and enthusiasm paled in comparison to Myrhia's inspired carnal artistry.\n\nYet, it was outside of this realm of intimacy where the multi-faceted complexity of Myrhia's nature truly asserted itself. There was an illusive, almost ephemeral quality to the woman that at once tantalized and vaguely frightened Richards. He suspected that he would never truly know Myrhia La Fey...even if they spent an eternity together (a prospect he considered with increasing relish).\n\nStill, this woman exuded a sense of intrigue that was utterly captivating, if at times perplexing. He never ceased to be amazed by how technology seemed to absorb and fascinate her. Things that were commonplace and taken for granted, delighted Myrhia to no end. She was a ravenous consumer of knowledge, constantly reading about evolving technologies. Myrhia could spend hours raptly engrossed in dry scientific documentaries that would have driven the average person into a bored, comatose state. More astounding still was the ease with which she would grasp the complex concepts put forth by these programs...demonstrating an intelligence that was frankly daunting.\n\nAnother source of satisfaction had been Myrhia's ability to thoroughly bewitch his children. They had come to adore the woman who might someday come to assume the role of their stepmother...thrilling the pair with perplexing feats of magic that filled the boys with wonder and Ben with an obscure dread.\n\nThere had been many disquietly moments, the most memorable of which had taken place one dark January evening, while the pair had been watching television. They had been watching the movie Excalibur...a stylized tale of the old Arthurian legends. Ben had found the movie, like the legend itself, to be rather fatuous and infantile, but Myrhia had watched the screen as though transfixed by the romantic melodrama unfolding there.\n\nAt the point in the movie where Merlin transforms Morgana into an aging crone, Myrhia had abruptly burst into gales of hysterical laughter that had baffled Richards. When finally the fit of laughter had subsided, he had inquired, \"Myrhia, I'm not sure I see what you find so funny?\"\n\nShe turned to him, her depthless blue eyes glittering with amusement. \"Ben, they've distorted the story so badly that it really is ludicrous.\"\n\n\"Distorted?\" Ben had echoed in confusion. \"Myrhia...the legend of Arthur is exactly that...a legend and myth. This story may deviate from the original, but it is still nothing more than a Dark Ages adventure. It...\"\n\n\"No Ben,\" she had interjected in a tone that was harsh and reproving. \"This story may be many things, but it is not mythical.\"\n\n\"Myrhia, how can you possibly believe that,\" Richards had protested. \"Historians can still not confirm that any of these figures truly existed. If they did, it was in a much more mundane form than depicted here.\"\n\nMyrhia frowned, her eyes narrowing in unaccountable anger. \"Every single character on this screen was real.\" Then her gaze became flat and inscrutable, reminding Richards of obsidian. Then she declared, \"I know because I was there.\"\n\nA charged silence descended upon the pair and Richards recalled how the flesh at the nape of his neck had risen into great hackles. Then she had laughed and drew him into her luxuriant embrace. In moments, they were naked and making love before the muted television where Arthur met his fabled end.\n\nStill, these moments of disquiet were few and far between. In all, Richards regarded the past six months as the finest period of his life...a time in which every prospect for the future seemed bright and hopeful. Just weeks before insanity and darkness fell upon his life for the second time, Ben Richards considered himself to be a thoroughly happy man.\n\n2\n\nMyrhia gazed out over the chilled waters of the Pacific...an ocean that had yet to be discovered during her last incarnation on the planet. The longer she lingered in this particular reality, the greater became her appetite to conquer this world. Still, this was a world of paradox as demonstrated by the mediocre excuse for a man now sitting across the linen-covered table. Again, she found herself baffled by Islena's improbable choice of a mate. The man was so weak and corruptible as to be revolting. Still, circumstances forced her to tolerate his mediocrity to satisfy her ambitions. She derived her only pleasure from the hope that Doraux would feel the humiliation in his every thrust when they made love and in every orgasm that Myrhia bestowed upon this wretched drone.\n\nShe turned her thoughts from the unpleasant act of coupling with Richards to contemplation of this wondrous time and place. She had disciplined herself never to be tempted by the trappings of power or seduced by the addictive indulgences that such power could create. She understood that dissolution came with complacency and Myrhia would never allow herself to blunder into that pitfall. If one was inexorable and undeviating in their focus, the key to unlimited power lay in a voracious appetite and an unflinching refusal to be distracted by laurels accrued and treasures plundered. Still, this world held temptations that even the enchantress found difficult to resist.\n\nMyrhia glanced around the restaurant, which reproduced to exacting detail, a famous dining salon in Paris. The crystal, the polished silverware and the fine bone china all sat upon a cream-colored linen cloth...these were the dining accoutrements of kings by any standard she had ever known. Yet in this particular modern time, it seemed that any common man with a sufficient quantity of wealth could revel in a lifestyle befitting royalty. Myrhia found the notion at once delightful and vexing.\n\nReaching forward, she raised a mussels shell to her pouting lips and allowed the delicacy within to slowly slide into her open mouth. Richards watched the tantalizing display, eyes wide and virtually drooling with lust. Myrhia drew in her cheeks to complete the effect and Ben emitted a low sigh that caused the enchantress to chuckle lightly. As loathsome and ineffective as he might be as a man, Richards had learned to pleasure her to the full extent of his limited abilities. He attacked the task with a zeal born of reverence as if he was partaking in a forbidden delicacy...which, of course, he was.\n\nOn impulse, she reached across the table and gripped his wrist, her dark eyes emblazoned with excitement. \"Ben, I'm due for vacation in a short while. Just on a whim, let's take the children and go to England. I know it's rather impulsive, but it's something I've always wanted to do. Going as a family would only sweeten the experience. I hope that doesn't sound too presumptuous.\"\n\nHe gazed doubtfully over the flickering candle setting which was not condign to the task of matching her limpid eyes. \"Myrhia...the kids are still in school and the office is inundated with work...I just couldn't.\"\n\nHer gripped on his wrist intensified and a sudden electric current flowed along the length of his arm, generating a warmth that was soothing...almost mesmerizing. He fell silent with an audible plopping of lips. This beguiling warmth continued to spread until his entire body seemed to hum with expectation.\n\n\"Ben, I would like to make love to you in the very center of Stonehenge in the dead of night,\" she intoned in a charged and melodic voice.\n\n\"Myrhia, I don't think they let anyone within a hundred yards of Stonehenge,\" he stammered, though beneath the table he was cognizant of his stiffening penis. \"It's a national treasure after all.\"\n\nShe laughed, though the sound held no mirth. \"I promise that they won't stop us, Ben. Can't you picture it...feel what it would be like to take me in the grass beneath a million blazing stars?\"\n\nQuite abruptly, the image exploded in his mind, detonating with the force of a land mine. He clearly visualized Myrhia above him, framed by luminous silver moonlight, moving in that slow poetic rhythm that never failed to drive him into a frenzy. He saw her breasts swaying fetchingly as her delicate pink nipples stood rigid to the cool English spring night air. Her black hair fell in a mass of curls to her narrow waist and in her dark eyes there shone a light that was primitive and terrifying. Together they made love in wild celebration of the Goddess...a ceremony that had not been seen for over a thousand years.\n\n\"I think maybe I could manage it,\" he stammered gruffly as the image resonated in his mind like a clanging bell.\n\nShe smiled radiantly and released his wrist. She was in the process of reaching for another mussel, fully intending to tease him over the brink of orgasm, when the fire flare of incisive pain tore into the fabric of her mind.\n\n4\n\nA hush descended on the great hall the moment that Sygeanor entered through the west doors. She was acutely aware of the subtle shift in the manner in which the Inner Circle now regarded her. Gone were the glares of disdainful mistrust and hostility, replaced by respect and even deference.\n\n' _Someday, they will serve me,'_ she thought, privately electrified by the very notion.\n\n\"Are you sufficiently rested, Sygeanor?\" Inos inquired as he approached and a note of concern echoed clearly in his voice that touched the young Ulgak. The more time that Sygeanor spent in his company, the greater her regard grew for the Metocan Grand Mage, who managed to blend compassion with decisiveness...a rare and admirable quality in a leader.\n\n\"As rested as time will allow, I suspect,\" she replied and he ushered her toward a raised platform that had been hastily erected near the council table.\n\n\"We have devised a means of protecting your physical body from the ravages of surmounting the Hiberas,\" he informed her while gesturing toward the platform, which had been hollowed out in the manner of a shallow bath. As she drew near, Sygeanor saw that it contained a cloudy green liquid from which curled tendrils of gray smoke. She glanced at Inos questioningly and the elder explained the construct's intended purpose. \"We mean to envelope you in crystal ice. This should protect your body from harm and may even attenuate the torment inflicted on your astral form as well.\"\n\nThe Ulgak looked from the elder to the pool, suspicion stirring in her mind, which reached the automatic conclusion that this could well be a Metocan ploy to entrap her. She glanced back to Inos and repressed the paranoia, but not without considerable effort. She wondered if she would ever be able to purge the inherent distrust from her nature and decided that a certain degree of suspicion was not necessarily a detrimental thing in a world where treachery flourished.\n\nTentatively, she stepped to the edge of the pool and glanced down at the misty liquid. Inos moved to joined her and whispered, \"It is necessary that you be wrapped in a protective swaddling to ward against the bite of the ice. If you wish to return to your quarters, our attendants will assist you with this preparation.\"\n\nSygeanor waved a dismissive hand. \"This is hardly the time to be bashful.\"\n\nUnclipping a series of small clasps, she shrugged off her dun colored robe, stepping forward as it fell to the floor. Unabashed by her nudity, she stepped forward and gestured for the attendants to commence their work. Sygeanor's face was broad and unremarkable, except for her large, slate gray eyes. By contrast, her nubile body was simply spectacular. A slight smile rose to her lips as she noticed the profound affect her taut, full body produced on the members of the Inner Circle, both male and female alike. Even the normally circumspect Inos could not fully conceal his surprise at the sight of her full breasts and flaring hips. She kept her gaze locked fully on his face, wondering briefly if he possessed the capacity for romance and pleasures of the flesh.\n\nWhen the attendants had completed the wrapping process, Sygeanor resembled an Egyptian mummy, though only Islena would have been capable of appreciating that particular metaphor. The Ulgak required assistance into the shallow pool, so tightly bound were her slender limbs. The liquid splashed against her feet and she was distantly aware of the sensation of cold, but the cloth had been treated in a way to prevent total saturation. With some effort, she glanced down to find that the churning gray tendrils were already twining around her ankles and calves.\n\nThe members of the Inner Circle gathered around her, their faces sporting expressions that were tense and grave. Inos came to stand directly before her, meaning to impart last minute instructions. \"Sygeanor, this is purely speculation, but I suggest that you begin your search in Amberdias. It is our belief that the High Queen was in southern Natzurdan when we diverted the Hiberas. Since Amberdias is the only true city in Natzurdan, it is probable that she would select it to serve as her headquarters. It is also possible that she is conducting a hunt for Islena Doraux, but I still recommend that you begin your search in Amberdias. Remember Sygeanor, you need only locate the enchantress...stay well clear of Myrhia's awareness.\"\n\nThe Ulgak nodded slightly, perhaps realizing that this was one promise that she was destined to break.\n\n5\n\nNow the members of the Inner Circle stepped away from Sygeanor, and closing their eyes, began to chant in a rhythmic fashion. There was a soft, melodic quality to their chanting that the girl might have found soothing had it not been for the intense sensation of power coalescing around her feet.\n\nThe gently churning gray smoke now became agitated, snaking around her legs and rising like a miniature vortex, until it had fully engulfed the Ulgak. It continued to thicken and eventually Sygeanor could feel a palpable weight pressing against her bound flesh. She had shifted her eyes to find that the first of the ice crystals had taken shape on her breasts, radiating out in a growing cocoon of frost.\n\nSeveral minutes later, once the process of envelopment had been complete, the members of the Inner Circle retreated a pace and examined the results of their efforts. Sygeanor was encased within a three foot thick block of crystalline ice, around which continued to swirl the gray smoke.\n\nOnly the Ulgak's wide, limpid eyes gave any indication of animation and Inos could not discern if the emotion they were conveying was one of trepidation or astonishment.\n\nThus immobilized, Sygeanor stared out at the members of the Inner Circle, attempting to gain mastery over the stark terror that accompanied the feeling of enormous vulnerability.\n\n' _Don't be obtuse,'_ she chastised herself and turned her thoughts to the mechanics of projecting herself out of her body. Due to her anxiety, this process took far longer than normal, but within minutes, she had ascended high above the great city, with its perplexing geometric skyline, and was rocketing steadily southward.\n\n6\n\n\"If only we could neutralize Myrhia so simply,\" Xkador muttered sourly before turning away. The caustic remark signaled the onset of an uneasy silence as the members waited for the Ulgak to approach the barrier.\n\n\"By the Gods, look!\" Brazol exclaimed, bringing every eye to focus on the ice block. Great sheets of steam abruptly boiled forth from the cold surface until the entire chamber was obscured by humid mist.\n\n\"She is crossing the Hiberas,\" Jerrod observed, his tone fraught with a mix of dread and keen anticipation.\n\nRapidly...too rapidly for Inos' comfort...pools of water began to spread across the marble floor of the great chamber. Anxiously, Inos offered a fervent prayer that Sygeanor would make haste in her crossing. Despite this silent plea, the crystal began to melt at an ever accelerating rate.\n\nJust when it seemed inevitable that the protective mantle would fail completely and the council would be subjected to a grim reprise of the previous ugly spectacle, the tense drama came to an abrupt end.\n\nInos drew a quivering breath and exhaled sharply, noting that several of the Ulgak's protective bandages had been badly singed in the crossing.\n\nAfter a moment, he instructed several of the other members to reconstruct the crystal, allowing for a greater protective block, and then went off in search of Maroc, knowing that Sygeanor's fate was now entirely in her own hands.\n\n7\n\nShe soared high into the heavens, delighted and relieved by how little discomfort she had been forced to endure on this occasion while crossing the Hiberas. Inos had been correct in his supposition that there was an arcane connection between the physical body and its spirit. By warding the body, passing through the Hiberas had been a tolerable experience. Below the verdant splendor of Natzurdan rushed by in an indistinguishable blur.\n\nSygeanor had never visited Amberdias, but she had read that it was the most idyllic city on the face of the world. Still, being raised in the squat, functional village in Ulgak, nothing could have prepared her for what she encountered when the great city came into sight.\n\nAmberdias was indeed a living edifice raised to natural beauty and the mystery of the mother...not to mention the zealous devotion of the culture that had occupied this place. Towering trees and great ridges of stone stood to the sky and it was from these building blocks that the Natzurdan had forged their great city. The capital was now enshrouded in the eerie mist that had long effaced the western shore of the Hiberas, but here it only served to augment the city's majesty, granting it an ethereal charm.\n\nSygeanor continued to drink in the mystery for several moments and then swept down into the interior in search of the scourge that had plunged Amberdias into darkness.\n\nThe streets of the great city were utterly deserted, save for the odd imperial trooper who had been unfortunate enough to draw patrol duty through the haunted and terrifying night. Myrhia, as she had promised, had created a requiem within the city for her conventional army. While it was effective in keeping the specters and demons from the Land of Shades at bay, it did little to alleviate the superstitious dread that had infected the troops.\n\nUp ahead, the central palace of Natzurdan loomed like a dark mountain, the living wood ascending to the heavens in a series of diminishing tiers. As she approached the palace, Sygeanor noted that it was ringed by a contingent of luminous blue monstrosities that could only be the enchantress' infamous Morticants. She passed within a few feet of the nearest one to determine if it possessed any manner of prescience, but it gave no hint that it divined her presence.\n\nIn the next instant she was racing past it and speeding up the main steps of the palace. Inside, the once proud edifice to nature had degenerated into a sty. Trash and refuse had piled up in every corner as bands of bored mercenaries relieved the monotony by systematically destroying the interior of the structure. The smell of alcohol and cooking food permeated the air like a miasma. Here and there, clusters of naked mercenaries engaged in shameless orgies with the harlots who had accompanied the armies. Disgusted, Sygeanor quickly sped up the twisting spiral staircase, gladly leaving the lecherous clamor behind.\n\nThe upper levels of the palace had apparently been assigned to the officers of the imperial army and the less riotous elements of what passed for the mercenary command structure. She saw no evidence of the senseless destruction that had ravaged the lower levels of the palace, but saw that several of the country's national artifacts had been looted from pedestals and display cases.\n\nFinally, she reached the upper tier, where a great Natzurdan leader named Morzhian had recently resided. Two massive gilded wooden doors led into what Sygeanor suspected must be the elder's private chamber. She noted that the decorative brocade had already been stripped away from the polished wood.\n\nA quartet of Morticants guarded the door and Sygeanor experienced an ignition of the senses that informed her that the odious Myrhia must surely dwell on the other side of those massive doors.\n\nPausing for the slightest instant, Sygeanor marshaled her courage and passed through the living wood.\n\n8\n\nLike most inhabitants of the antiquated planet, Sygeanor had never actually set eyes upon Myrhia, though like everyone, she had constructed a mental portrait of the world's most despised villain. She had heard all of the tales in her village...many so fatuous as to be laughable. Some said Myrhia was actually a giant spider and others claimed she was a serpent with the face of a beautiful woman. Being a pragmatist, even at an early age, Sygeanor had envisioned Myrhia as tall, beautiful and charismatic, with a commanding personality and an intense gaze that could bore holes in stone.\n\nThus she was in utter shock when she spied her first glimpse of the dreaded enchantress...a creature reviled to be the very epitome of evil. At first, she thought she had mistakenly entered the quarters of a child. The beautiful face resembled that of a delicate porcelain doll. Only the shapely body and the slow rise and fall of the full breasts beneath the regal blue velvet informed Sygeanor that this was indeed a woman. The mantle of power that emanated from the woman was incomprehensible in its scope.\n\nA translucent blue haze hung about the High Queen, who sat cross-legged on the floor amongst a sprawl of satin cushions. Her eyes were closed and her chin had settled to her chest. In apparent repose, she appeared both ineffably lovely and utterly harmless.\n\nThrough years of reflection and periods of intense darkness that would follow, both personal and general, Sygeanor could not fathom what had motivated her to do what she did next. In truth, she had accomplished exactly what she had been dispatched to achieve. She had achieved this without detection and understood that prudence dictated that she make a hasty retreat to Othgol and report what she'd discovered.\n\nAs much as she was clearly cognizant of what the situation demanded, Sygeanor knew that she could not comply.\n\nLater, when the sense of darkness and gnawing guilt had begun to abate marginally and she had regained the faculty of honest self-analysis, she had concluded that her actions had been inspired by the impression of Myrhia's shocking fragility. The deceptive delicacy of the woman before her invited the Ulgak to strike a blow for humanity and the noble cause...an impulsive decision that she would later come to rue.\n\nMyrhia's protective field had been designed to repel threats from the tangible world as she had never anticipated that her enemies possessed the means, nor the temerity to strike her from the astral dimension. With a petulant grin twisting her thin lips, Sygeanor sped across the room and plunged through the barrier. As she had surmised, it had offered no resistance and in the next instant, Sygeanor plunged boldly through flesh and bone and into the lightless interior of Myrhia's mind.\n\nOnce inside, she unleashed an enormous burst of telekinetic energy, which literally picked the vacant body of the enchantress up and flung it across the room. It struck a wooden column with a sickening thud and slid to the ground, where it lay twitching in convulsive spasms.\n\nSygeanor cried out in soundless jubilation, but even in her euphoria, she noted that Myrhia's body displayed no physical effects of the violent attack.\n\nCorrectly deducing that she only had scant seconds before the enchantress returned to her beleaguered temple of flesh, Sygeanor unleashed a series of massive telekinetic bursts on the Natzurdan palace.\n\nWhat followed was a scream so harrowing that Sygeanor feared her reason would be vaporized if she did not flee at once. Suddenly apprehensive over what she had wrought, the Ulgak withdrew and began the journey back to her flesh and the comparative safety of Othgol.\n\nIn her wake, the great palace of Amberdias died with a frightening cry of despair that rose up to the heavens in a keening shriek. Living sheets of wood ruptured into slivers and slabs and columns of stone were vaporized into gray dust. With a guttural rumble, the massive structure split in two distinct halves and then collapsed onto itself, raising a great billowing cloud of gray dust as it died.\n\nAll inhabitants, both living and otherwise, found themselves trapped in an avalanche of wood and stone. In less than a minute, Sygeanor had decimated the High Queen's officer core and the loose affiliation of mercenary leaders.\n\nPanic spread through the streets of Amberdias like a pernicious plague as the Emercian soldiers viewed the destruction of the palace with raw horror. Harrowing and piteous cries arose from the jumbled detritus. Hundreds had perished in the initial collapse and they proved to be the fortunate ones. Mortified by dread, none of the surviving soldiers dared venture toward the wreckage and the wretched cries of those buried alive went unheeded.\n\nAfter several moments, the Morticants who had been present in the palace during the attack began to push their way out of the debris, easily casting aside huge slabs of wood and stone. Gradually, more of the luminous blue creatures began to converge upon the devastated palace and started sifting through the wreckage as the mortals looked on helplessly. Even the dullest of those who had chosen to follow the wicked queen could not help but feel that they had become rats trapped in an ever-shrinking cage.\n\nAs the Morticants searched for their creator, they would come upon living mortals in various states of misery and suffering. Dispassionately, they pulled the least injured free while setting the hopelessly wounded aflame in a cold act of mercy. Soon the nightmare ruin was ablaze with dozens of argent pyres.\n\nOf the enchantress, there was still no sign.\n\n9\n\nA small, dispassionate segment of Ben's mind marveled at how quickly fortune could reverse itself. One moment you could be deliriously happy and the next, the entire world seemed to plunge into terrifying shadow.\n\nShe had been in the process of seducing him, a dance of tantalizing and teasing that had been no less potent for his awareness.\n\nIn the next instant, she had jerked bolt upright, knocking over her glass of Chardonnay. He watched in stunned incomprehension as it tumbled end over end and shattered into a thousand glittering fragments on the tiled floor. Richards felt every eye drawn to the pair and flushed in shame the moment his gaze returned to her face which had contorted into a rictus of agony.\n\n\"Myrhia?\" he ventured weakly, feeling insufferably stupid and helpless, but it was immediately evident that she could hear nothing beyond the consuming roar of her own pain. Abruptly, her eyes rolled up in their sockets and she tumbled out of her chair. Richards winced when her body slumped to the cold marble, recalling that it was on that precise spot that her glass had shattered.\n\nAround the restaurant, cries of concern echoed and every eye was transfixed upon the diminutive beauty who lay motionless on the tile floor. Richards could only stare down at Myrhia as if he had been inured by dark magic...his expression an improbable blend of horror and incredulity.\n\n' _I couldn't have seen what I think I did,'_ he told himself, though his senses refused to recant upon their version of the truth.\n\nWhat precisely was it that Richards had seen that had immobilized him as the woman he loved lay unconscious on the floor? As her eyelids had fluttered and she had commenced her slow tumble, Richards had sworn that her flesh had become insubstantial. For a brief period of time...perhaps no longer than the blink of an eye...she had vanished completely.\n\nIn that disconcerting flicker of time, Richards had found himself staring at an old dowager who had been obscured by Myrhia only seconds before. Richards would have been able to dismiss this as an illusion had it not been for the expression of confused disbelief that had rippled across the old woman's face the very instant Myrhia appeared to have vanished.\n\n' _She was gone...Holy Christ, she was actually gone!'_ A reproachful glare from the captain finally broke Ben's reverie and he moved to help Myrhia. As he did, it occurred to him that he had been paralyzed by a formless dread that contained a vague aspect of augury.\n\n10\n\nInos sensed that Sygeanor was being somehow evasive the very moment that she emerged from the ice crystal. It was apparent in the way she averted her eyes, when typically her gaze was forthright and direct.\n\nThe members of the Inner Circle all crowded around the Ulgak, hailing her with a barrage of questions, but she said nothing until she had come to stand before Inos. \"Myrhia and her army appear to be stranded in Amberdias.\"\n\nWhen the normally expansive Sygeanor fell silent, the Metocan elder was accosted by a premonition of disaster. Something had gone ineffably wrong, though he suspected that the nature of this ill turn would not reveal itself immediately.\n\n\"Sygeanor, what is the state of affairs in Amberdias?\"\n\nShe sighed wearily and looked away. \"It was difficult to tell. The city is now shrouded in mist, though it would seem that Myrhia has conjured some trick of magic to ward her conventional army against the inhabitants of that fog.\"\n\n\"Do you suspect that they were aware of your presence?\" the elder pressed gravely.\n\nSygeanor shook her head, weaving a lie with a half-truth. \"No, the soldiers were preoccupied by every manner of debauchery imaginable.\"\n\n\"And what of Myrhia...she had no inkling of your presence?\"\n\n\"The High Queen seemed engaged in some manner of deep of meditation. She was oblivious to my presence...of that I am certain.\"\n\nInos exhaled, his eyes beaming with obvious relief which only augmented Sygeanor's own sense of shame and guilt. \"Then that is well. We may launch our raid into Redia, confident that we will have the element of surprise.\"\n\nAn inscrutable expression rippled over the Ulgak's broad face and she suddenly spun away. Inos' impression that something was drastically wrong increased exponentially and though he should have pressed her, the Grand Mage found that he was unaccountably reluctant. \"Sygeanor let us return to Maroc's quarters and finalize details of the raid.\"\n\nThe Ulgak shook her head emphatically and declared, \"I'm exhausted, Inos. If I am to be of any value to the expedition, I must rest.\"\n\nWith this, she was gone, leaving a baffled and deeply concerned Inos staring after her...alone with his ambiguous anxiety.\n\n11\n\nThough they were separated by a greater gulf than mere distance, Ben Richards could have easily empathized with Inos' state of perplexity at that precise moment.\n\nThey sat together in her BMW convertible in the parking garage beneath her condominium and Richards could clearly discern Myrhia's baffling, immutable rage. Her anger emanated from her small body in palpable waves that he feared might ignite the both of them.\n\nWhen she had first regained consciousness while lying on the restaurant floor, with patrons staring down upon her with identical expressions of pity and concern, Myrhia had appeared apprehensive and disoriented. That apprehension had gradually relented to a smoldering anger that made very little sense.\n\nBen had pleaded with her to see a doctor at once. The nearest hospital was five minutes away, but she had unequivocally refused, withering his protest with an angry scowl that might well have fractured stone.\n\nRelenting, Ben had ushered a wobbly Myrhia to her feet, gingerly brushing the glass shards from her gown. To his relief and amazement, he noticed that she had suffered not so much as a scratch, despite having landed in a scattering of razor sharp glass shards.\n\nMyrhia had apologized profusely from the disturbance, radiating a disarming charm that had mesmerized everyone in the room. Then she had asked Ben to escort her home. As the pair left the Toulon Towers, Ben concluded that Myrhia had fully recovered from whatever had assailed her.\n\nThus he was totally unprepared for the outpouring of fury that had followed. Myrhia had insisted that she be allowed to drive and though Ben had been doubtful, instinct warned him that he would be wise to relent to her demand.\n\nInside her small BMW, the diminutive beauty had erupted like a tornado out of clear air. Shrieking, she pounded her fist down on the steering wheel again and again, until Richards feared that she would break one of her delicate hands. Aghast, he had watched, frozen by astonishment, and if he was being totally candid, trepidation.\n\nFinally, she pitched herself back into her seat, drew a deep, tremulous breath and allowed her chin to settle to her chest. A palpable silence descended upon the pair. Richards remained motionless, both unwilling and uncertain as to how he might go about the task of consoling the woman beside him...a woman who now seemed as remote and inaccessible as a total stranger.\n\nShe was speaking to him now and he blinked, banishing the disquieting images from his mind if only momentarily. He glanced over at Myrhia, relieved to find that the thunder clouds of rage had dissipated.\n\n\"I'm sorry Ben...both for the spectacle raised at dinner and my behavior afterwards.\"\n\n\"There's no need to apologize,\" he mumbled. \"I have to admit that you scared the hell out of me...fainting like that.\" He deliberately neglected to mention that her rage in the car had frightened him far more.\n\nMyrhia averted her eyes, nervously twisting her hands in her lap. \"Nothing of the sort has ever happened to me before. When I regained consciousness and saw all of the faces peering down on me...every eye gleaming with a kind of muted pity...I became utterly furious.\"\n\n\"But why?\" he inquired, perhaps with more vehemence than he had intended. She glanced up at him, searching his face in the dull light of the parking garage. On impulse, she reached across and gripped his hand. To his shock and dismay, Richards discovered that it was all he could do not to snap it away and realized just how profoundly the night's events had affected him.\n\n\"Ever since I was a small child, I have despised fear and weakness, especially those I perceived in myself. Lying on that floor beneath those pitying stares, I felt both...not to mention a profound shame.\"\n\n\"Myrhia, being ill is certainly no reason to be ashamed,\" Richards objected mildly, gazing into the sparkling jewels of her large eyes. Their gleam attenuated his disquiet over her peculiar reaction.\n\n\"I'm a driven woman, Ben Richards,\" Myrhia whispered softly, perhaps the most sincere statement she would ever utter in his presence. \"I react to terror with outrage and anger, though never to the degree that I did tonight. Then again, I'm seldom as frightened as I was tonight.\"\n\nAll of which seemed plausible...perfectly reasonable, though a small voice persisted in raising the specter of those glass shards and her odd vanishing act the moment she'd first fainted. Richards told the voice to fuck off in no uncertain terms. Gazing into the depthless dark pools had a way of trivializing every concern, making them seem...frankly ridiculous.\n\n\"Myrhia, you have to see a doctor,\" Ben insisted, though his voice sounded distant and slightly slurred to his own ears. \"What happened tonight is too serious to ignore.\"\n\nShe squeezed his hand reassuringly. \"Believe me Ben, when I tell you that I have absolutely no intention of ignoring it. I intend to take every step necessary to insure that the problem is rectified.\" Her tone assumed a harsh edge and she reiterated, \"Completely rectified!\"\n\nChapter Twelve\n\n1\n\nIt was some hours before Arminda returned to the clearing. As she passed through the towering trees, her face was taut with grief and embarrassment in the vermillion light of dusk. Lorio fixed the Jerhia with a harsh, reproachful glare, but the young warrior merely averted her gaze.\n\n\"Your outburst has only aggravated the situation,\" Lorio snapped angrily.\n\nArminda met the hybrid's intense regard, but remained silent, knowing that she had earned Lorio's scorn. Lorio continued to glare for several seconds longer, but when it became apparent that the Jerhia would not respond, she merely sighed.\n\n\"Ah, I see Arminda has rejoined us,\" echoed a mocking voice from behind the pair. Both pivoted in place to find Islena regarding them with a sardonic half-smile playing at the corners of her generous mouth. Both women immediately gleaned that it was not Islena Doraux watching them with a derisive, sardonic smirk. They need only one glance at the black film that occluded her lovely green eyes to know that the virulence had seized control of Islena's mind.\n\n' _How long will it be before Islena is irretrievably lost in the mire of the poison?'_ Lorio wondered, knowing that her continued refusal to apprise the enchantress of Doraux's condition was folly that would insure this grim eventuality. The hybrid saw that the Jerhia was glaring balefully at Doraux and prudently imposed herself between the pair.\n\n\"I suspect that it is a rare thing to see one of your kind lose their composure and resort to flinging vitriol and petty spite,\" Islena remarked casually.\n\nArminda stiffened, but did not respond, instead turning to Lorio. \"We'll make camp here tonight. I agree that it would be wise to move, but the thought of traveling through this place after dark is not one that I relish.\"\n\nLorio shrugged, wincing when Islena's interloper persisted in taunting Arminda. \"I would hazard that your precious brother...the noble Amrand...would not have been prone to such fits of temper.\"\n\nA low groan issued from Arminda's throat at the mention of her dead brother's name. She suddenly wanted to flee...to run before the horror of the revelation she felt certain was to follow.\n\n\"Even when my gracious host helped Myrhia torture your dear brother, he did not denounce her, nor did he even protest the inequity of his mistreatment.\" The thing tittered as if it found the notion mildly amusing.\n\nArminda's body had gone as rigid as a piece of statuary. Her blues eyes bulged and the muscles in her neck stood forth like taut coils. To Lorio, it appeared that she would simply explode with the intensity of her fury. \"The thing is deliberately trying to antagonize you...don't listen!\"\n\nThe Jerhia blinked rapidly, but her gaze remained transfixed upon Islena, who had risen to her feet with a contrived expression of surprise on her face. \"You act as if you possessed no prior knowledge of the manner in which your brother met his end. I take it that she neglected to mention that she participated in torturing Amrand in the dungeons of Perdwick. Then again, I suppose she might be reluctant to share that rather uncomplimentary detail. My host has never been one to admit her own flaws and transgressions...even to herself. You can't begin to image the secrets this vainglorious woman had cloistered in the fetid swamp that passes for her mind...and to think that you perceive me as evil!\"\n\nArminda was shaking now as if a low level energy was pulsing through her body, causing it to tremble and quake. Lorio could discern the pure hatred emanating from the Jerhia.\n\n\"I suppose that she wasn't inclined to confess that she'd arranged to have Ynthrax, Myrhia's High Commander, kill your brother while she and that worthless whore by your side escaped Perdwick?\" the interloper revealed, its voice blithe.\n\nArminda shrieked an inarticulate wail of anguish and stumbled toward the Doraux-thing, who smiled encouragingly and gestured her forward. Before the situation could degenerate into a physical melee, Lorio literally scooped the Jerhia off her feet and held her fast, while Arminda struggled and writhed in her grasp like a snake.\n\n\"Do you not see that she is deliberately trying to provoke you with vapid lies?\" Lorio roared and squeezed tightly to quell the Jerhia's thrashing. Arminda gasped and sagged in Lorio's powerful embrace.\n\nThe interloper shrugged indifferently. \"Very well, believe what you will. Still, I would be reluctant to take the word of a woman who spent a great deal of time with an Imperial Trooper's manhood in her mouth.\" Lorio scowled, but refused to be goaded and finally the interloper turned away. \"You see, I have access to every thought your precious Islena has...every memory she might wish to conceal. To me, she is an open book.\"\n\nWith this, Doraux returned to her bedroll and curled up. Within moments, she was sound asleep. Gradually, the tension drained from Arminda's body and Lorio released her grip on the Jerhia. When the girl stumbled forward, the Lamish warrior seized her shoulders and held her upright. \"You must keep a tighter rein on your emotions. If you do not develop greater restraint, you may well commit an error in judgment that we may all live to regret.\"\n\nArminda hung her head and fetched a weary sigh. \"You can't imagine how much I detest that bitch or how badly I would like to bury the Dragonsword in her vile heart.\"\n\nLorio shook her head in disagreement. \"Oh, but I can. Believe me, I can.\"\n\n2\n\nDeep in the depths of a restless night, Arminda gave up the futile pursuit of sleep. She climbed out of her blankets and sparing a brief glance at the others, drifted aimlessly toward the trees, which now stood to the bejeweled heavens like shadow giants.\n\nUnlike the idyllic placidity of the Upper Lands' night, Arminda's mind was ablaze with a storm of warring emotions. She plunged through a gap in the trees and slowly picked her way to a small brook that she had discovered earlier in the day. Since the moment she had first learned that Emian was dead, Arminda had felt bone weary and inadequate to the very depth of her Jerhia soul. With the senseless murder of her Metocan friend had went her long-honed Jerhia discipline and deportment, leaving a weak and vacillating woman, who was a shell of what she had been prior to the wound she had suffered at Gillian's hands.\n\nHer ears detected a faint gurgling and she followed the sound to the edge of the stream. It occurred to her that this stream had probably not existed prior to Islena's liberation of the land earlier in the day.\n\nShe stood at the edge of the stream, which was perhaps no more than eight feet across and resembled a ribbon of black silk beneath the silver moonlight. On impulse, she threw off the tattered rags of her clothing and the worn leather boots, the soles of which were now wretchedly thin over the course of this nightmare trek.\n\n' _The pitiful state of her attire matched that of the quest itself,'_ she thought disconsolately as she dipped a foot experimentally into the stream, not particularly surprised to discover that it was pleasantly warm.\n\nSighing slightly, she waded in until the water teased the under swell of her pert breasts, turning her pink nipples to rigid knots. Then she laid her head back and surrendered herself to the water's embrace. Quickly, the soothing water worked its magic on her tired flesh, ameliorating the physical tension that had turned it to an aching mass of knots. Reducing her thoughts to a numbing blank, she floated silently as the moonlight colored her lean body in luminous argent.\n\nIn her state of meditation, Arminda failed to notice the effulgent mist coalescing and twisting mere feet from where she floated. Thus she was thoroughly startled when a soft voice called, \"Arminda.\"\n\nShe opened her eyes and let herself to sink protectively into the water, cursing herself for allowing perhaps the most critical Jerhia instinct to lapse...vigilance. Not to be constantly alert to dangers in a wild place such as this was sheer and fatal folly.\n\n\"Arminda, there is no need to be frightened,\" a familiar voice assured her. \"Yet it is urgent we talk.\"\n\n' _That voice! By the gods, I recognize it,'_ she realized. Cautiously, she raised her head out of the water, to find a spectral Emian hovering above the stream like an ephemeral mist. Initially, she feared that this was some manner of evil trickery, but needed only one glance at the placid and sage face, with its gentle, limpid eyes, to dispel that fear.\n\n\"Emian, you've come back,\" she exclaimed, standing erect and mindless that she was naked.\n\n\"Not precisely back, Arminda,\" Emian corrected with a wistful note of sorrow. \"I have returned, but only for a brief time.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she murmured quietly, her voice fraught with sagging dejection.\n\nEmian drifted closer. \"Arminda, you wear your dejection like a wound.\"\n\n\"Things have fallen to ruin so quickly, Emian,\" the Jerhia complained. \"Perhaps I am an ingenuous fool, but I never expected that this venture would be so wretched...so dismal. Quests were things of great romance...titanic struggle yes, but always colored in shades of hope and optimism. Thus far, I've seen nothing other than death and pervasive despair.\"\n\n\"Arminda, romantic adventure and reality have only a passing resemblance. Still, there is another characteristic of the epic quest, whether real or legendary, that you have failed to mention...perseverance.\"\n\n\"Oh Emian, if only it was a matter of simple perseverance,\" she protested, stepping from the pool and standing brazenly naked before the apparition. \"Islena is hopelessly under the pall of the virulence and sinks deeper every day. Because of her erratic nature, I suspect that she poses more of a threat to the world than the enchantress.\"\n\nShe gestured toward her lifeless arm. \"I've been reduced to a cripple, Gillian to a mindless child and you...you have been cheated out of life by the very thing that you had vowed to protect. In candor, we are not even certain if there remains a world to save.\"\n\n\"Arminda, my death came as a consequence of my own misjudgment. What's more, to claim that you have been reduced because you can no longer fire a crossbow is to seriously devalue your worth. Your greatest asset is your mind...your unfailing reason.\"\n\n\"Even so Emian, I feel that I am fragmenting...losing my equilibrium beneath the unbearable weight of responsibility.\" She stopped abruptly and lowered her face into her hand, not further wanting to debase herself by crying before him like a child. \"I was capable of leading only with your guidance. Without your sage council, I am utterly lost. If this quest is to continue, perhaps it would be best if I pass the reins of leadership to Lorio. She is unflaggingly strong and constantly composed. She appears to understand Islena on a level that I can never hope to reach.\"\n\n\"No!\" The single word...so emphatic...so shockingly vehement...was atypical of the mild Metocan. \"Under no circumstances can you allow Lorio to seize direction of this expedition. Even the extent to which you trust her must be carefully measured.\"\n\nPuzzled, she gazed at the apparition, and even in his nebulous form, Emian's countenance conveyed a degree of urgency that distressed Arminda. A question of some delicacy occurred to her then, but despite her reluctance, she posed it nonetheless. \"Emian, what exactly happened when you...\"\n\nShe trailed off and the Metocan completed the thought. \"When I died?\" A look of perplexity stole over his face. \"Quite frankly, I have no recollection. I recall only trying to convince Islena to relinquish the Dragonsword. Beyond that, there is only darkness. My next cognizant thought is that I felt incredibly light.\"\n\n\"Do you suspect that Lorio had a hand in your death?\" Arminda asked gravely, dreading the implication if he disclosed that he did, but Emian merely shook his head.\n\n\"I have no way of knowing. Evidently the specifics of passing are lost to us in the afterworld. Still, my sense of Lorio is mixed and disquieting. Her mind is closed and her motives are inscrutable. For this reason alone, she should not be entrusted with the direction of leading this expedition to find the missing king. Fate has decreed that this obligation would fall to you.\"\n\nArminda hung her head. \"Emian, in all honesty, do you truly believe that I am worthy of the role?\"\n\nShe glanced at the Metocan, her heart aching and her torment standing as naked as her body.\n\nHe gazed at her kindly. \"During the course of our travels together, Islena once told us that it was her ambition to become a virago. Naturally, this is a term derived from her world, but it resonates with a certain power, does it not?\"\n\nArminda agreed that it did, rolling the word experimentally off her tongue and enjoying the way it felt in her mouth. \"Did she say what it meant?\"\n\n\"Yes...a woman of great courage and strength...among other things,\" Emian replied. \"It seems that we live in a world of viragos. I personally know of four; Islena, Lorio, dark Myrhia, who in a depraved way, may well be the strongest woman of all...and you, Arminda.\"\n\nThe young woman merely gazed at the specter, her eyes narrowed with uncertainty. It hurt Emian's heart to see her belittle by doubt. \"Arminda, you have acquitted yourself admirably from the very beginning. You personify the concept that Islena was attempting to describe.\"\n\n\"Then you think that I should proceed with the search for Artumas?\" she asked, clearly torn on the matter.\n\n\"To go forward is to keep hope alive...however slender that hope might be. To renege now...\" The Metocan did not complete the thought, but the implication was clear enough.\"\n\n\"Emian, there is so much to overcome and I am so utterly alone...more so if Lorio has surreptitious designs against the quest. The matter of Islena's possession is terrifying in its enormity and I still see no way of extricating ourselves from the menace she now poses.\"\n\nEmian frowned slightly. \"Arminda, I believe that the links in the chain of events are forged partly by fate and partly by the random workings of chance. I have no way of knowing how Doraux will be purified, but I feel certain that she will. Look to that random aspect to ward you against despair Arminda. It is the one thing over which tyrants have no leverage. There hangs an aura of destiny about you girl and you are obligated to fulfill it, just as the rest of us are obligated to fill ours, be they of great or little consequence.\"\n\nShe glanced at the apparition, a glimmer of comprehension in her ice blue eyes, but still the impression of doubt persisted. \"Arminda, perhaps there exists an intrinsic aspect of the quest that you do not fully grasp.\"\n\n\"Such as?\" she asked while arching an inquisitive eyebrow.\n\n\"The quest may well be a journey toward spiritual purification...an expiation of sins and ascension toward a higher level of spiritual purity. This is especially true for Islena, but it may be so for the other members as well.\"\n\n\"The prophecy did declare that the one would be spiritually pure...which Islena most definitely is not,\" Arminda observed sourly.\n\n\"Taking this as an inviolable truth, then it follows that Islena must undergo an apotheosis...or perhaps several. I suspect that the travails of this quest will serve in that process.\"\n\n\"Then you believe that all of the misery we have suffered is part of some fate-sanctioned ordeal or test?\" she asked, horrified and infuriated by the notion.\n\n\"To be more concise, it is more of a proving ground,\" Emian amended. \"Doraux must prove her worthiness here if she is to obtain the full puissance of the Proclamations.\"\n\nArminda mulled this over for several moments and sighed. \"All of this would be infinitely more sufferable if I had your wisdom and friendship to draw upon.\" She glanced at the apparition hopefully. \"Is there a chance that you might be permitted to come to me when I need you, Emian?\"\n\nThe Metocan shook his head sorrowfully. \"If but I could, dear one. As it is, this visit is a special dispensation before I move on.\"\n\nThe was a wistful echo in his voice as he uttered this last phrase, one that brought the uncompromising finality of death home to the Jerhia like the death knell of a great bell. \"Is death...is it bad, Emian?\"\n\n\"For some, I would suspect that it could well be.\" He paused and offered Arminda his patented smile. \"For me, it was not so bad.\"\n\nHe glanced skyward as if hearing a silent summons that he was powerless to deny. \"I must go Arminda. Remember, be wary of Lorio. Also be cognizant of the other inhabitants of this place. Islena's vast outpouring of power has attracted their attention. It is likely that you will encounter some of these entities and it is equally probable that they will not be friendly.\"\n\nThe Jerhia thought to ask how one might fight such an entity, but sensing that Emian had expended whatever time had been granted to him, she merely nodded and murmured tearfully, \"Goodbye Emian.\"\n\nEmian's image flickered even as he raised his hands to bid her farewell. \"Goodbye and persevere, my virago!\"\n\nWith this, the Metocan's shimmering image vanished, leaving Arminda feeling utterly alone and despondent. Still naked, she made her way to the edge of the stream and sat on the grassy bank, weeping silently in the darkness.\n\n3\n\nThe next morning dawned overcast and cool, with a chilling wind that blew relentlessly from the north. As Arminda dragged herself listlessly from her blankets, it seemed to her that there seemed to be a portentous aspect to the forlorn cry of the wind. She shivered, wondering morosely how the capricious currents of fate might flow on this first full day after Emian's death. Reluctantly, she glanced over to the two mounds of earth that marked his final humble resting place.\n\nIn that singular stark moment of loss, Arminda realized that she had grown to love this gentle creature from the esoteric society of which the Jerhia culture had always been so wary.\n\nAs was customary, Lorio was up and ready to travel well before the others. The Jerhia watched sourly as the Lamish warrior assisted a bleary-eyed Islena to her feet.\n\n' _The true virago,'_ Arminda thought, recalling Emian's admonition not to trust the mercurial Lamish beauty. Still, in light of the tenderness that she exhibited toward Doraux, it was hard to believe that her devotion was anything less than honorable and genuine.\n\nThe two women approached Arminda, who suddenly recalled her tirade of the previous day and flushed with embarrassment.\n\n\"Islena, I'm genuinely sorry for my outburst, yesterday,\" she fumbled uncomfortably, struggling to meet the other woman's eyes. \"My behavior was deplorable.\"\n\n\"Nothing I didn't deserve,\" Islena mumbled thickly and the Jerhia became aware of how terrible Doraux appeared. Her normally limpid emerald eyes were listless and dull, while her face reflected a bone-weariness that stunned Arminda. For the first time, the Jerhia garnered an appreciation for the physical toll the virulence was extracting from it host. The revelation did nothing to lighten her mood.\n\n' _Still, as lifeless as they may appear, they are still an exquisite shade of green,'_ the Jerhia thought with no small degree of relief. Doraux's demon was dormant and would hopefully remain that way until the party had located Artumas.\n\nThe Jerhia became aware of Lorio's intense scrutiny lying upon her cheek like a palpable touch. There was a rare, yet distinct air of impatient expectation hovering about the woman on this dull and forbidding morning.\n\n\"Have you come to a decision?\" she demanded curtly and Arminda felt an incisive shiver rippled along the length of her spine. An element of vague menace had suddenly been instilled into the moment.\n\n\"Yes, we'll forge ahead. As you advised...to renege now would be folly.\"\n\nThe tension abruptly drained from Lorio's posture and she clapped a surprised Arminda on the shoulder in an astounding display of camaraderie. \"Excellent...I suggest that it might be wise to depart quickly.\"\n\nAgain, Arminda was assailed by a strong sense of suspicion. There was something distinctively off center in Lorio's jubilant reaction to her decision to continue, but before the Jerhia could contemplate the matter further, Islena stepped forward and thrust her hands forward with her wrists pressed together as though restrained by invisible manacles. \"Bind me!\"\n\nShaken by the expression of raw grief on Doraux's haggard face, Arminda briefly shifted her gaze to Lorio, who averted her eyes as if the matter held no interest for her.\n\nA wave of pure empathy shook the Jerhia then, and in a stellar burst of crystalline insight, she gleaned the full implications of Islena Doraux's incomprehensible burden. With a resounding clatter, the complex ramifications of Emian's discourse on Islena's quest for spiritual purity resolved themselves in Arminda's mind.\n\nWith Doraux standing before her, arms extended like a humble penitent seeking absolution and eyes red-rimmed with despair, Arminda realized that she had come to a critical juncture in her own quest for purity. One path led to forgiveness and enlightenment, while the other stretched down the road to inured cynicism and festering resentment.\n\nTurning away from Islena, Arminda slowly crossed the clearing and retrieved the Dragonsword. She returned to Doraux, who had not changed positions as if her distress had turned her to stone. Arminda was aware of Lorio's fascinated scrutiny, but kept her own gaze riveted squarely upon Islena, whose grief had been temporarily supplanted by shock.\n\nHalting before the One, Arminda solemnly extended the icon. \"I will not bind you and you will take the sword that is yours by birthright.\"\n\nDoraux shook her head in vehement refusal and retreated a pace with obvious revulsion shimmering in her wide eyes. \"I...I can't take that thing again. I'm a menace and that only makes it worse. We both know that it isn't safe for me to possess the sword.\"\n\nEven as Doraux made her stammering declaration, Arminda discerned that a part of her...the virulent demon...wanted desperately to snatch it from her grasp. That tiny glint of avarice made Arminda shudder, but she held the sword resolutely forth. \"And therein dwells our conundrum, Islena...you are a menace when this Icon is in your grasp...and we our defenseless when it is not.\"\n\nGradually Islena's fists opened and Arminda placed the weapon in her waiting palms. The Jerhia then nodded tightly and turned away, declaring brusquely, \"Let us make a start then. I am anxious to put as much distance between myself and this vile place as possible.\"\n\nSparing Emian's grave one final glance, she guided Gillian out of the clearing and into the forest. Behind her, she could hear the doleful sound of Islena weeping.\n\n4\n\nThe first half of the day proved uneventful as the four would-be saviors traipsed through the lush forest under a blanket of dreary silence.\n\nNear midday, the wind began to gather, prompting Lorio to stop and sniff experimentally at the air which was intoxicating in its redolence. Arminda glanced at the taller woman inquisitively. Noticing her scrutiny, Lorio inquired, \"Do you not smell the brine?\"\n\nArminda shook her head, but nonetheless inhaled deeply. At first, she could detect nothing other than the naturally redolent scents of the vibrant forest. Then, so faint as to be barely discernible, her nostrils flared at the tang of salt borne on the gusting breeze. \"Is it the ocean do you think?\"\n\nLorio, who like the Jerhia had never seen an ocean, replied, \"I suspect so.\"\n\n\"Then we are close!\" Arminda exclaimed excitedly.\n\n\"Only relatively so, but yes, we must be only a few days from the ocean,\" Lorio agreed, her tone fraught with an indecipherable urgency. The pair lapsed back into silence and resumed their westward trek, but a new spring had come into Arminda's step and with it, a new sense of optimism.\n\nOnly Islena Doraux did not share this new found buoyancy. As she stumbled along after the others, her thoughts grew darker and more fragmented. At times, she was barely aware of her surroundings as disorientation threatened to sweep her into the void. On other occasions she was assailed by a disconcerting heightened lucidity. During these periods, she was attuned to not only everything around her, but also the desperate war being waged in the chambers of her physical body. She could feel the virulence struggling to usurp control of her mind, but fought grimly to maintain her tenuous grip on over her actions.\n\nWith increasing desperation, Islena understood that this was a battle that she was inevitably destined to lose and wondered why this was not so readily apparent to the others.\n\n' _I am the angel of death,'_ she thought dejectedly. In her wake, she had left a trail of squandered lives like grim markers on an odyssey of abject misery and despair. From Amrand to Emian, her very proximity had proven fatal and now she was possessed by an evil that had prompted her to murder one of the most innocent and gentle creatures she had ever known. More astounding still, her companions still possessed the capacity to forgive her and absolve her of any culpability for these vile acts.\n\n\"Myrhia, you insidious bitch,\" Islena whispered fiercely. Had this been the turn of events that the enchantress had foreseen when she had first plucked Doraux from her own world in apparent defiance of the ancient prophecy?\n\nWhatever her motivation, Myrhia seemed vindicated in her presumption that Islena would fall victim to the dark, seductive siren's song of power. Only Islena, herself, seemed capable of averting that final grim defeat and she saw with equal clarity that her opportunities to act were limited. If she did not defuse the danger she posed soon, the virulence would gain absolute control over her body and mind. With this horrifying control would come unfettered access to the power of the Dragonsword. Doraux shuddered at the notion of what she might become if this came to pass.\n\nIt was in the company of dire thoughts such as these that Islena first encountered the shades of the enchanted west.\n\n5\n\n\"We're no longer alone,\" Lorio whispered softly to Arminda as the party labored up a steep slope.\n\nFor the past three hours the party had been traversing a series of deep rolling valleys as the thick forest suddenly relented to sparsely treed grasslands.\n\nIt was while emerging from one of these valleys that Lorio first made her observation, snapping the Jerhia out of her exhaustion-induced malaise.\n\nLorio lifted her gaze to the crest of the incline and Arminda followed her gaze, startled to discover that there were at least a half dozen figures strung out along the top of the ridge line.\n\nSomething about their posture suggested that they had been patiently awaiting the party's arrival...a notion that filled Arminda's heart with disquiet. She cast a questioning glance at Lorio, who merely shrugged and responded, \"It is too late to elude them. At any rate, it seems that they have deliberately imposed themselves in our path. Let's go up and find out exactly what they want.\"\n\n\"Emian warned us that Islena's unconstrained eruptions would attract the attention of the inhabitants of this place,\" Arminda responded tightly and she failed to notice the pained expression that flashed across Islena's lovely face. The Dragonsword flickered, an admonition of menace, but that too went unheeded.\n\nAt the crest of the hill, the figures remained motionless. Inhaling deeply, Arminda led the party up the steep incline, stopping some twenty paces from the group.\n\nOne of the figures glided forward and Lorio immediately discerned that, while the creatures appeared substantial, they were all specters to a one.\n\n\"I am Drayulryk,\" the shade declared, his tone suggested that his was a name of some consequence. His thin face was dominated by brown ferret's eyes that shifted constantly. Lorio obliquely surveyed the others and decided that they resembled a band of ghostly brigands. Suddenly, the party had strayed into yet another precarious situation. As experienced of a warrior as Lorio was, she had no clear notion of how to fight a specter. The killing of an entity that was already dead struck her as a conundrum that defied solution. Still, instinct prompted her to separate from the others as a preparation for conflict.\n\n\"I am Arminda of the Jerhia,\" the diminutive blond declared with stiff formality.\n\n\"Jerhia!\" Drayulryk spat with blatant disdain. He extended his arms in a gesture of envelopment. \"To a man, we are of Redia. It was the bastard Jerhia who reduced us to this lamentable state.\"\n\nAs though on cue, the figures ripped open their tattered tunics to reveal that horrific wounds that had ended their lives. Apparently, this violent disfigurement remained with them after death. Like all war wounds, these mutilations were horrible and ghastly, but Arminda refused to display any reaction, knowing that to do so would be perceived as a sign of weakness.\n\nThe arrogant gleam in the specter's eyes flickered and the sneer emblazoning his face vanished when he saw that she would not be so easily daunted. \"So how do four mortals come to find themselves so deep in the kingdom of the dead?\"\n\n\"We seek a man who is said to live on the edge of the western sea,\" she disclosed, seeing no particular reason to be evasive.\n\n\"The mad king?\" the specter blurted incredulously. \"You crossed the demesne of the dead to find the lunatic king?\"\n\n\"You know of Artumas?\" Arminda demanded and immediately regretted her eagerness. The specter's nebulous gaze intensified. \"The sainted king is something of a pet with the occupants of the Upper Lands...quite amusing really.\" Abruptly the contrived mirth departed. \"What is it you require of Artumas?\"\n\nWithout a moment's hesitation, Arminda lied, \"We seek him to lead us to war against your former benefactress. Am I presumptuous in suggesting that you might be able to help us locate the king?\"\n\nThe specter grimaced, but said nothing. Instead, he turned slightly away from the Jerhia and drifted over to Gillian and finally Islena. As he moved, Arminda observed that his weaponry appeared both tangible...and lethal.\n\nThe specter halted before Islena, his eyes narrowing at the sight of so much bulging muscle on a female form. Then his eyes settled squarely upon the ruby-encrusted Dragonsword with a speculative gleam. \"Is that the only reason you've intruded upon our domain?\"\n\nLorio eased closer to the shade, but Arminda instructed brusquely, \"Be still!\"\n\nLorio glowered, but remained stationary, knowing that provocation would only make matters worse.\n\nIslena's green eyes settled flatly upon the specter, but she said nothing, nor did her expression give any indication that she was even aware of the exchange that had passed between it and Arminda.\n\nDrayulryk spun about, a humorless grin twisting his ugly visage. \"Your companion is most extraordinary...and clearly unwell.\"\n\n\"She was bitten by a spider as we ascended into the Upper Lands.\"\n\nThe specter's oily gaze shifted from the Jerhia to Doraux. \"Indeed and yet she is alive...how do you account for that, Jerhia?\"\n\n\"As you have noted, she is exceptionally powerful,\" Arminda replied evenly.\n\n\"No mortal is that powerful...the guardian's poison is sufficient to kill her a hundred times over...and yet she lives. Astounding!\" In the blink of an eye, he was standing directly before Arminda, though the Jerhia had detected no hint of motion. \"Let us dispense with being coy, shall we? Obviously, with the exception of this tall, hostile bitch, the lot of you seems just about ground down by your ordeal.\"\n\nHis ferret eyes strayed to Arminda's paralyzed arm. \"Your Jerhia companion is a mindless drone and your lovely partner is infected by a virulence that must eventually kill her.\" He paused to allow her a moment to absorb the truth of his contention and then added, \"Perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.\"\n\n\"Our only need is to locate Artumas,\" Arminda insisted adamantly.\n\n\"Come now...we have the power of healing. We will ameliorate your ailments in return for one small token of gratitude.\"\n\n\"Which would be?\" the Jerhia prompted warily.\n\nHe frowned as though she was being deliberately obtuse. \"That sword your poison-addled friend carries.\"\n\nArminda shook her head vehemently. \"As I've said, we require nothing other than to be allowed to go on our way.\"\n\n\"If you refuse our generous offer, it can only mean that you value the sword more than your own life,\" the Redian specter retorted coldly. \"In which case, we will gladly relieve you of both, Jerhia whore!\"\n\nBefore Arminda could react, she was dealt a stunning blow to the back of her calves, directly below her knees. She fell forward with a grunt, but retained enough presence of mind to roll to her left an instant before a curing saber buried it self deep in the grass where she had first fallen.\n\nIn the next moment, the apparitions converge upon the party in a swarm. The second that Arminda had been struck, Lorio darted forward and swung her quarterstaff at the assailant's head in a savage arc. The weapon passed through the figure without resistance, nearly pulling Lorio off balance. The hybrid recovered with barely enough time to avoid a counterblow that grazed her short ribs.\n\nSuddenly, Gillian was at her side, his rapier flashing wildly in the dull morning air, agilely parrying blows from a half dozen swords.\n\nArminda attempted to regain her feet, but found herself being dragged clear of the fray by powerful hands. She was hauled upright before she realized that those hands belonged to Islena Doraux.\n\nThe Jerhia grimaced as her knees bellowed a cry of protest. For some inexplicable reason, the specters had made no hostile move toward Doraux. Ten paces away, Lorio and Gillian were embroiled in a deadly skirmish which Arminda realized they must inevitably lose.\n\n\"Islena, do something,\" Arminda implored as she turned toward Doraux. \"The icon's puissance should drive them away, if not destroy them outright.\"\n\nShe stopped in mid-sentence, horrified by her first glimpse of Islena. Doraux had gone rigid, every sculpted muscle standing out in sharp relief. The cords in her neck appeared as taut as steel cables and tears poured from her emerald eyes in a deluge. Her generous mouth was twisted and worked frantically, whispering a desperate plea for negation. In that moment, it became apparent to Arminda that Islena had no intention of intervening.\n\nHer gaze shifted back to the melee, where Lorio and Gillian held the six specters at bay in a frenetic blur of steel and wood.\n\n\"May the gods damn you!\" she raged at Doraux and turned to plunge into the fight. Before she had taken a single step, a hand clamped down on her wrist like a manacle and she found herself being jerked back toward Islena. In the next instant, the dazed Jerhia lay sprawled on the ground.\n\n\"Stop!\" the single imperative was accompanied by a loosing of vermillion power that seemed to shake the very earth.\n\nAbruptly, all struggle ceased. Lorio and Gillian disengaged themselves from the specters. Drayulryk slowly lowered his pitted blade and his mad eyes blazed at Doraux, who was cocooned in a red haze of power.\n\nIslena stumbled toward him and the apparition actually retreated several paces, its eyes narrowing with suspicion and fear.\n\nDoraux glanced from the specter to the icon, her face contorted into a mask of pure loathing. \"You want this fucking thing? If I let you take it, will you leave us in peace?\"\n\n\"Islena, no!\" Lorio growled, moving to forestall this total capitulation to lunacy. Islena flicked a dismissive glance at Lorio and the hybrid suddenly found that she was being flung across the clearing by an unseen wave of raw energy.\n\nIslena returned her attention to the spectral Redian, whose eyes were ablaze with primal avarice, and held the sword forth. \"Will you leave us in peace?\"\n\nDrayulryk nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the Dragonsword. Doraux grunted and rearing back, hefted the weapon into the air. It flew, end over end, and vanished over the crest of the hill.\n\nIslena stood glaring after the weapon, her breath coming in great gasps and her body shaking as if she was about to be violently ill. Like hounds hard on the trail of a fox, the specters set out after the Dragonsword. Drayulryk paused near the crest and rasped, \"We'll leave you as you are demon-bitch. You'll all be joining our ranks soon enough.\"\n\nA malefic grin spread over Doraux's face and she intoned, \"Not all gifts are a blessing.\"\n\nThe specter glowered and dissolved on the wind, leaving the party behind.\n\n6\n\nFor a long moment, no one stirred. The four stood thoroughly transfixed by the enormity of the drama that had just unfolded before them.\n\nLorio rose to her feet and slowly approached Doraux, who stood staring at the crest of the hill over which the specters and the Dragonsword had so recently vanished.\n\n\"Do you have any inkling of what you've just done?\" she demanded in a voice that was barely a whisper. \"You have squandered the one frail hope this world possessed for salvation.\"\n\nIslena responded to this reproach by turning to the taller woman, her expression sculpted by an unfathomable emotion. In a dreamy voice, she replied, \"I believe that I may have just saved the universe.\"\n\nIn the next moment, she sagged into unconsciousness and Lorio's firm embrace.\n\n7\n\n\"Of course we're going back,\" Arminda insisted pointedly. \"It's the only sensible course of action to follow. As loathe as we might be to admit it, this exercise has no further point. When Islena surrendered the sword, everything ended.\"\n\nThe hybrid drew a deep breath in an effort to quell the urge to reach out and strangle the Jerhia where she stood. Instead, she remarked patiently, \"Arminda, it would be mad to return now. We are close to the western sea. You need only inhale the air to confirm as much. What's more, the specter confirmed that Artumas lives and we are obligated to find him.\"\n\n\"To what end?\" the Jerhia retorted curtly.\n\n\"The reasons are twofold. There are still two remaining Proclamations and Artumas is the only man truly familiar with the enchantress. It is not implausible that he might produce some small detail that could help in our struggle with the evil queen. We have absolutely nothing to lose by making the attempt.\"\n\nArminda shifted her gaze to Islena, who was sprawled upon the grass not far from where the pair stood. Her brow was not furrowed by worry in the requiem of sleep, and as she dozed with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, Arminda thought that she appeared angelic. Despite the profound desire, she found herself no longer able to detest Islena Doraux. \"I'm so thoroughly tired, Lorio,\" she admitted softly. \"I'm not certain I can suffer another bitter disappointment.\"\n\n' _Take heart Halfling, your next disillusionment will be your last,'_ Lorio thought wickedly, even as she responded, \"Arminda, who among us cannot claim that they are weary.\" She cut her gaze toward Doraux. \"Without the Dragonsword to hold the virulence at bay, I fear it will quickly consume Islena. As much as we have endured, she has suffered beyond our capacity to grasp. If she is to die, I want to consign her body to the great sea. That alone would be a victory of sorts...if only a hollow one. Please, persevere for a few days further.\"\n\nArminda said nothing for several moments, but then gave her consent with a nod. Lorio smiled and drew the smaller woman into a hug, the smile vanishing the minute Arminda's face pressed against the smooth flesh of her neck.\n\nChapter Thirteen\n\n1\n\nWhatever Amberdias might once have been (and there were precious few poets who possessed the eloquence to do it justice), under Myrhia's tyrannical fist, the city had become a grim edifice of nightmares.\n\nWith the Natzurdan gone, the critical nurturing of the living wood had also ceased and the great living structures, which had required five millennia to build, slowly began to die. Many of the houses had been carefully hollowed from living hardwood trees, which now served as homes for the conventional elements of Myrhia's occupying armies. Most of these soldiers spent their off duty time in a deep state of inebriation to escape the pervasive sense of despair that hung over the city like a pall. The few who were coherent noticed the mottled patches that had bloomed on the surface of the wood like cancer. Upon closer inspection, it was discovered that these effected areas would crumble to gray powder. Myrhia's commanders quickly discerned that it would not be long before the city was reduced to dunes of wood dust. This did little to alleviate the sagging despair that preyed upon the victorious conquerors.\n\nOn the morning following the mysterious destruction of the central palace, Amberdias was plunged into utter chaos. The majority of the Emercian High Command had perished in the destruction of the palace. Most conscripts and the soldiers of fortune milled around the wreckage of the once magnificent central palace. Each face wore an identical expression of confusion and unformed dread as they watched the Morticants rummage through the mountains of tangled rubble in search of their creator.\n\nBaldasoran and Adriatus, the figurative mercenary leader and the High Commander of the Emercian Imperial Army, both stood watching the ghastly blue behemoths move tons of rock and wood the way an ordinary man might life a sack of feathers.\n\nBoth men sported the expression of fellows who could scarcely credit their good fortune or the dark irony that lay behind it. When Sygeanor had unleashed her telekinetic devastation upon the Natzurdan palace, both men had been engaged in a covert discussion of sedition, an undertaking of such a precarious nature that they had elected to conduct their affairs in a small shop on the extreme edge of the city. It was there they had been when Sygeanor's wrath had killed their cohorts.\n\n\"My men are beginning to exhibit the characteristics of rats trapped in a cage,\" Baldasoran remarked casually, though a haunted shadow fell across his face.\n\n\"Which is precisely what they are,\" Adriatus responded sharply. Though he had struggled to conceal the fact, the High Commander was profoundly shaken by the enemy's ability to reach across the Hiberas and strike such a telling blow against the enchantress. The idea that the purportedly invincible queen might be vulnerable horrified the pair, both of whom realized that they had inextricably tied their fates to Myrhia's fortune. Both were equally cognizant of the fate that awaited them should Myrhia's star suddenly tarnish and plummet. Worse still, both men were beginning to suspect that they would not fare much better even if the enchantress were to achieve total victory.\n\nGesturing toward the ruins of the palace, Baldasoran intoned, \"This does not bode well for us, Adriatus. We are totally vulnerable and if Myrhia cannot ward against attacks of this kind, it is not unthinkable that the entire city might be met with a similar fate in the near future.\"\n\nThe High Commander sourly grunted his tacit agreement, his blue eyes glazing over at the notion. \"Be that as it may, we are hardly in a position to desert. The countryside is infested with the terrors of hell. I will predict that Myrhia's response to this attack will be swift and terrifying.\"\n\n\"Nonetheless, our future is no more promising under Myrhia's rule,\" Baldasoran observed. Adriatus, a veteran of twenty years, who had suffered under Myrhia's dictatorial reign, while recalling the glory of Artumas' rule, stopped and gazed squarely at the mercenary. In a churlish voice, he demanded, \"Just what is it you propose, Baldasoran?\"\n\nUnflinchingly, the mercenary replied, \"I propose that we look after our interests and kill Myrhia.\"\n\n\"If only the act was as simple as the suggestion,\" Adriatus sighed, watching in bewilderment as a trio of Morticants shifted a section of stone that must have easily weighted a ton or more. \"Quite frankly, I think we have squandered our opportunity. With Tormal's desertion and this assassination attempt, the queen is likely to tighten security around her. What's more, I'm not even certain the enchantress can be killed.\"\n\nInclining his head in the direction of the rubble, Baldasoran offered, \"This will go a long way toward determining her mortality. We would be best served by her death...perhaps we could even surrender in return for amnesty.\"\n\n\"Really?\" the High Commander quipped, his mouth twisted in a sardonic parody of a grin. \"In light of what we've done in the east; ethnic cleansing, slavery and mass genocide, do you really believe that our enemies will be inclined toward forgiveness? Even if Myrhia's body is found in the wreckage, torn and lifeless, we would be left with little choice but to carrying on with her campaign of conquest, lest we find ourselves dangling at the end of a hangman's noose.\"\n\nBaldasoran grimaced as Adriatus continued with his grim assessment of their predicament. \"Our path is cast in iron and has been since the day we pledged our allegiance to the dark harlot. This talk of rebellion is an amusing diversion, but it is nothing more. We are trained dogs and Myrhia is our mistress and should she perish, we should expect a similar fate. Above all of this discussion of our situation, we ignore the one salient reality that governs our present situation...if Myrhia is dead then we are trapped on the wrong side of the Hiberas with no possible hope of escape.\"\n\nBaldasoran, discerning the truth of this, shook his head in disgust. For the contingent of Redian adventurers, this sorry state of affairs was not how this campaign of conquest was supposed to end. During the seven years of constant warfare on the eastern continent, the mercenaries had shared in the vision of Myrhia's predacious ambition, amassing huge fortunes from the plunder along the way.\n\nThose days of heady euphoria had ended when the High Queen's armies had plunged into Jerhia. Now, by some perverse trick of sorcery, the victors found themselves trapped in the very land they had intended to subjugate.\n\nThe campaign of terror had bestowed upon the mercenary a fabulous wealth that he would now gladly trade for the humblest hovel in northern Redia. He cursed Myrhia and offered a prayer that she would be found dead, even though such a turn of events would inevitably spell his own demise.\n\nAs if in dramatic refutation of his silent entreaty, a twenty foot section of marble obelisk, that had decorated Myrhia's personal chamber, suddenly leapt into the air, flipping end over end like a giant coin.\n\nCries of panic echoed shrilly through the square as hundreds of milling soldiers scattered frantically in every direction. Their fear, however, proved unwarranted as a beam of blinding blue light streaked skyward from the ruins and struck the flying obelisk, reducing it to thick black powder that fell upon the square harmlessly.\n\nA profound silence descended upon the throng then. Even the inscrutable Morticants ceased their labors to gaze upon the spot from which the blue bolt of energy had erupted.\n\nEnthralled despite his apprehension, Baldasoran watched as a diminutive figure floated out of the mountain of rubble. The mercenary need only hear the groan of negation that had escaped Adriatus' lips, to realize that this could only be Myrhia. Not a solitary person stirred as the enchantress floated over the jumble of wood and stone. The High Commander noted that nothing in her movements suggested pain or even mild discomfort.\n\n\"If ever we required proof that she is not mortal, this is that proof,\" he whispered to the mercenary.\n\nShe moved directly to the spot where the pair stood and it was all that Adriatus could do to prevent from bolting. The enchantress' thick ebony mane was a mad tangle and her face was coated with grime, but he required only one glance into those dark eyes to know that the High Queen was possessed by a killing fury. He had been in her service long enough to know that her fury was a terrifying force to behold.\n\nShe stopped before the pair, her small fists clenched at her sides and her body quavering with fury. To Adriatus, she appeared very much like a small child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. When she spoke, her voice quavered on the edge of hysteria. \"Who is responsible for this?\"\n\nThe two stricken men exchanged glances and Adriatus stammered, \"Your highness, we simply don't know. One moment the palace was whole and standing and the next, it had been reduced to a jumbled ruin. I can say with absolutely certainty that there was no incursion force. What's more, there is not a single guard who claims to have witnessed anything unusual prior to the attack.\"\n\nA particularly dangerous glimmer dawned in Myrhia's eyes. \"How is it that you managed to survive when so many of your comrades have been reduced to pulp beneath this rubble?\"\n\nAdriatus shuddered, hoping that his face did not reflect the icy terror that was presently gnawing at his bowels. \"My Queen, Baldasoran and I were inspecting the city perimeter at the time of the attack.\"\n\n\"Indeed...how fortuitous,\" she whispered softly, her left eyebrow arching sardonically. With a movement as swift as an adder's strike, she reached out and pressed her index finger against either man's chest. Instantly, the pair stiffened, their eyes popping wide in shock and then agony as an invisible force ravaged their bodies like a rampant cancer. Their suffering was further compounded by the discovery that they had been paralyzed by the touch, robbing them of all but the capacity to experience pain.\n\nShe grinned a viper's grin and snarled, \"I trust that I have your undivided attention? Do you really think that you are so clever as to deceive me?\" She snorted a burst of contemptuous laughter. Gesturing toward Baldasoran, she growled, \"From this piece of donkey dropping, I would reasonably expect no less, but you Adriatus, surprise and disappoint me in your stupidity. Do you not think that I am aware of your childish assignations and scheme of sedition?\"\n\nMyrhia spun away, her anger crackling around her like a blue corona.\n\n' _I'm going to die,'_ Adriatus thought then, surprised by how calmly his mind delivered that dire judgment, but then the enchantress returned her attention to the pair, her gaze flat and speculative. She reached forward and touched the angle of her High Commander's jaw and mercifully, both the pain and paralysis vanished. The High Queen's penetrating gaze bore into Adriatus. \"I have a single question and answer it with the understanding that your life hangs in the balance...have you lost faith in my leadership?\"\n\nAs she continued to watch him, the Emercian felt the spittle in his mouth turn to dust as his tongue seemed to have swelled to twice its normal size. Myrhia was an enigma, but Adriatus correctly deduced that the queen desired candor over fawning obsequiousness. \"My Queen, your followers have been badly shaken by the developments of the past month. The diversion of the Hiberas, Tormal's defection with the entire cavalry and now a direct assault upon you; these things are seen as ill portents for the future. It is not so much that we doubt your power or your ability to win this war. It is simply that we fear fortune has turned against your cause.\"\n\nMyrhia appeared to contemplate this for a moment and then demanded sharply, \"Do you presume to know my mind, Adriatus...or feel condign to the task of predicting the shape and direction of my ambition?\"\n\nAdriatus shook his head vigorously, while the enchantress absently brushed grime from her cheeks. \"The diversion was an unexpected stratagem conceived from pure desperation...one that the coalition could never have achieved without Islena Doraux. Tormal's defection was foolish and craven, but you may rest assured that he will face a long night of merciless retribution as will all of those who stand against me. You need only peer into my eyes to see that this is not hollow bravado.\"\n\nAgain, Adriatus nodded feebly as Myrhia continued, \"I am unaccustomed to the need to elaborate upon my intentions, but this once I shall make an exception. I have not moved against the Metocan because the conquest of this freakish collection of fog dwellers is of no consequence to my machinations. The threat that this society of false mages pose is a nuisance at best, but by diverting the Hiberas, they have removed even that minor irritation. My only concern lies with locating Islena Doraux and the Proclamations and she is embroiled in a misadventure in the west and that is where my only priority is fixed. I have not destroyed the Metocan because I lack the means...only the interest. Do you question the veracity of this, High Commander?\"\n\nAdriatus shook his head and Myrhia spared Baldasoran a disdainful glance. \"You fear the day when mortals will have outlived their usefulness to me? Acts of petty sedition can only but expedite that day. The universe holds puissance and wonders that far exceed the narrow limits of your feeble comprehension. Do you honestly think that I care about obtaining dominion over this antiquated planet...or that I would content myself with one small world when so many beg to be plundered like unguarded jewels?\"\n\nHere she lapsed into a thoughtful silence and both men divined that their fates would be decided when next she spoke. Slowly, she reached forward and released the mercenary from his entrapment. \"I would be fully justified in having both of you fed to the swine, but this once I shall be merciful.\" She hesitated for a brief moment and then added with a malicious glee, \"On the provision that you fall to the ground, prostrate yourselves before me, lick my boots and plead for leniency.\"\n\nAdriatus shuddered, while Baldasoran sneered, though that sneer vanished the instant a quartet of Morticants materialized behind the pair. Inclining her head toward the luminous monstrosities, the enchantress observed, \"If sparing your life is not sufficient inducement, I vow that once I have Islena and the Icons firmly in my possession, I will move to crush Metocan. Once this has been achieved, my engine of conquest will set out for new worlds and I will leave the stewardship of this world to the both of you. Naturally, you will be entitled to share whatever wealth this world has to offer...on this you have my solemn oath.\"\n\nThe enchantress glanced to Baldasoran, whose face reflected an internal war between fierce Redian pride and avarice. Upon Adriatus' grim countenance there shone a more complex blend of emotions...an intermingling of honor and terror.\n\n\"Really gentlemen, what is a moment of symbolic abjection set against a lifetime of hedonistic indulgence. Death or prosperity...decide!\"\n\nSeveral seconds passed and first Baldasoran and finally Adriatus dropped to their knees and sprawled on their stomachs. Fighting revulsion, they closed their eyes and reluctantly pressed their lips to the soft leather of Myrhia's boots while her army gazed on in speechless shock.\n\n\"Sufficient,\" she allowed tersely and then instructed the ashen-faced pair to rise to their feet. Adriatus appeared chastened, while the mercenary fought to control his smoldering rage...a fact that elevated Baldasoran in Myrhia's esteem.\n\n\"Very well, Adriatus you will select a new site to serve as our quarters. Also, appoint a new round of staff to the officers' cadre. Assemble all of your troops and inform them that their High Queen has vowed to punish our enemies for this cowardly attack...swiftly and without quarter. Our Metocan friends will soon come to rue the day they struck their petty blow.\"\n\nMyrhia had turned away from her two chastened dogs, when an electric, tingling sensation suddenly played over her scalp. Her eyelids fluttered and the world briefly swam out of focus as black flowers suddenly bloomed before her glazed eyes. For a brief instant, she feared that her enemies were again attempting to strike at her, but then a chilling, yet familiar voice whispered along the colonnaded corridors of her mind. \"Myrhia, it is urgent that we speak.\"\n\nThe enchantress immediately recognized the voice of her enigmatic hybrid Lorio and she could clearly discern the exigency implicit in her soft tone. Something of consequence had transpired in the west and she would have to delay her intended vengeance, if only for a moment.\n\nShe raised her arms and mouthed a silent summons. Ever responsive, her Morticants abandoned their task of clearing away the rubble of the palace and came to form a protective ring around their creator as the mass of puzzled soldiers looked on.\n\nStanding shoulder to shoulder and towering like invincible sentinels, the wall of Morticants all but occluded the enchantress from view.\n\nBaldasoran and Adriatus exchanged perplexed glances, both flinching when Myrhia snapped gruffly, \"I trust that I've provided you with better ways of occupying your time than idle gawking. Go!\"\n\nLike wraiths, the two men vanished and soon the milling soldiers prudently followed their example, leaving Myrhia to seek out her hybrid without distraction as her devoted Morticants encircled her like a cocoon.\n\n2\n\nWhere Amberdias was shrouded by a pall of uncertainty and trepidation, the mood in Othgol was ebullient by comparison. The city was rife with speculation about the cause of the frenetic activity around the central palace, where supplies and soldiers were hastily being assembled for what must surely be a significant undertaking.\n\nThe citizens of the capital knew only that the members of the Inner Circle had been cloistered in a series of urgent meetings with the leaders of Natzurdan and Jerhia for the better part of forty-eight hours. Though the subject of this meeting was a matter of great secrecy, the city was ablaze with rampant speculation over its purpose.\n\nAmongst the most outlandish of theories was the account that a miraculous weapon had been discovered in the form of a half-Ulgak serving girl, who possessed enough power to eradicate Myrhia and her hideous army of Morticants. As ludicrous as it might be, the rumor persisted until even the most cynical were infected by its wild promise...that this young girl had given the Inner Circle the means to snatch victory from defeat.\n\nNear nightfall on the second day, Inos finally came forward to answer all of the speculation and conjecture.\n\nOf the Metocan, one astonishing thing was true...in a world where communication was woefully archaic...they possessed the faculty to speak to each other in a manner that would have been the envy of Islena's technology-inebriated world.\n\nThe Metocan society was a mentally attuned collective, which allowed for silent communication over great distances. This telepathic ability provided for nearly instantaneous communication within the country's boundaries and abroad. In a world where the people learned of major events weeks or even months after they occurred, the people of Metocan were remarkably well informed.\n\nFor the sake of privacy, the Metocan had developed techniques to shield their thoughts, lest the entire content of their minds be laid out for examination like chattel on a merchant's table. In this way, the Inner Circle was able to hold its session without fear of espionage.\n\nOn the eve of the party's departure however, Inos decided that the people should be informed, at least in part, of what was about to unfold.\n\nAll across the capital city of Othgol, the citizens experienced a simultaneous buzzing sensation in their skulls...a mild tingling which announced that the Inner Circle was about to make a rare public decree. Inos had agreed to limit the extent of his broadcast to the limits of the city alone, though the Inner Circle had refined their abilities to the extent where their message could have been disseminated over the entire length and breadth of the country.\n\nStill, with the discovery that Myrhia had perfected a hybrid Morticant, the coalition could not ignore the very real possibility of infiltration and so Inos elected to confine his communiqué to the people of the capital, who could not help but know that something dramatic was afoot.\n\nIn his smooth, placating manner, he spoke of how the Hiberas continued to hold the High Queen at bay and then revealed that it was the coalition's intention to strike a blow at their vile enemy. For the sake of prudence, the specifics must remain a secret.\n\nEarly the next morning, thousands turned out to line the streets of Othgol as the expeditionary force wound its way through the misty streets toward the east gate of the city. At the head of the column rode the entire Inner Circle, accompanied by a mysterious hooded figure that many thought might be the fabled half-Ulgak serving girl. A ripple of excitement coursed through the crowd...could this be the creature that was reputed to be capable of vanquishing Myrhia with a wave of a hand?\n\nImmediately behind the Inner Circle came Kevlan and a group of a dozen Metocan adepts. It had been decided that Kevlan would guide the expedition through the blighted lands, an area with which he was intimately familiar.\n\nNext there followed Maroc leading an entire legion of Jerhia. Initially, Inos had attempted to dissuade the Maxim Tier Marshall from leading the Jerhia force, but the veteran would not relent.\n\n\"We have cowered on the fringes long enough,\" he had argued vehemently. \"If the Jerhia is to be part of striking a telling blow against the enchantress, then I must be at our lead.\" Inos had sighed and the issue had been set aside. Now, as he glanced back at the man who led a newly equipped legion of Jerhia warriors, the Metocan was forced to concede that it was precisely where Maroc belonged. In his brown eyes, there burned a new light of determination as though the prospect of a return to usefulness had rejuvenated the commander, who seemed to be stumbling down the path to dysfunctional irrelevance only days before.\n\nIn the rear came a line of provision carts and a dozen Natzurdan, led by their new leader, a dour elder named Maktir. Inos watched the procession file past and noted the expressions of excitement and urgency on the faces of both the participants and those who had come to bid them farewell. Despite this pervasive atmosphere of optimism (or perhaps because of it) the Metocan elder suddenly found himself beset by doubt. A sense of nascent disquiet gnawed at his entrails with icy fangs. This sense of impending catastrophe was ambiguous and possessed neither specific form, nor substance, but Inos was powerless to banish it from his mind.\n\nThe expedition finally passed through the east gate and out into the brooding, mist-shrouded forests of eastern Metocan and when the last of the well-wishers had returned to the city, the Metocan elder moved up to join Maroc. The Maxim Tier Marshall greeted the Metocan with a formal salute and a broad smile, clearly relishing the prospect of re-entering the fray.\n\n\"Ah, it is a joy to simply be moving again,\" Maroc confirmed, drawing a deep breath of damp Metocan air.\n\n\"Perhaps, but what awaits you is likely to dampen your enthusiasm, I would hazard,\" Inos observed somberly. \"We are both well aware that this expedition could be setting off down a path to suicide.\"\n\nMaroc fixed the Metocan with a sharp glance of appraisal. \"Still in all, it is better to die fighting a futile battle than to timidly await slaughter like sheep in a pen.\"\n\nInos conceded the point with a doleful nod and turned his gaze toward Sygeanor, who had pushed back her hood. \"I cannot escape the presentiment that something is about to go horribly awry...if it hasn't already. There is nothing specific to which I can attribute this feeling, but instinct is telling me that it revolves around Sygeanor.\"\n\nMaroc followed the Metocan's gaze, his expression doubtful. The enigmatic woman sat astride her horse, her posture regal and slightly aloof. \"I'm not quiet sure I understand, Inos. The girl accomplished the tasks we required of her...we have determined both Myrhia's location and the state of the party...as lamentable as it might be. What could she possible have done to arouse such dark gloom?\"\n\nThe elder shook his head slowly. \"Again, there is nothing to substantiate this, but intuition warns me that Sygeanor has done something that will have dire repercussions. I divined it in her eyes and her evasive manner, both last night and again this morning. I fear that something ineffably vile is about to befall us.\"\n\nThe implacable certitude in Inos' voice caused Maroc to shudder. \"I take it this is why you've decided to accompany us to the causeway?\"\n\nThe Metocan merely nodded, his gaze transfixed on the half-Ulgak. \"I would confront her with my concerns, but she is an obstinate, spirited creature, inclined to defensiveness when challenged. What's more, if my fears prove baseless I will have achieved nothing other than her alienation...something Metocan can ill afford. Therefore, I will accompany the expedition to the causeway and hope that my instincts will alert me to imminent threat.\"\n\nMaroc nodded distantly, unsettled by the Grand Mage's atypical bout of pessimism. In his mind, this expedition was a divine blessing even if it should eventually prove to be a futile endeavor. Nonetheless, a Metocan was a prescient creature and if he should detect the presence of danger, however vague, it would be foolish to ignore that instinct.\n\nThe Tier Marshall frowned. \"Since we first conceived this plan, I've been troubled by one nagging concern,\"\n\nInos regarded the Jerhia questioningly and Maroc disclosed the one worrisome aspect of the undertaking. \"We are proceeding on the assumption that the Hiberas has been diverted in such a way as to allow our army to cross the third causeway.\"\n\nInos nodded his agreement. \"A logic assumption I would think.\"\n\n\"True enough, but the premise holds both ways; if we can cross the causeway into the east, then Myrhia's army could flow into Metocan precisely the same way.\"\n\n\"And yet they have not,\" the elder remarked thoughtfully, discerning the flow of the other man's thoughts.\n\n\"At least not yet,\" Maroc concluded and both men exchanged nervous glances. \"It is not beyond the realm of possibility that we may find ourselves confronted by an army poised for invasion, once we cross into the east.\"\n\nInos shook his head. \"Possible admittedly, but not probable. I suspect that Myrhia is not particularly interested in conquering Metocan at this particular juncture. I would allow that her interest lies exclusively in locating Islena Doraux and the other two Proclamations. Had we not diverted the Hiberas, it is likely that she would have allowed her juggernaut to roll through Metocan, but I doubt that she will waste her time and resources upon us...unless we rouse her ire.\"\n\nMaroc absorbed this in contemplative silence as his mount cantered through the thickening mists of eastern Metocan. \"One thing that has perplexed me since I first heard the account is Myrhia's failure to pursue Doraux after Islena discovered the Icon at Runesholm Abbey. The Imperial Army was in an ideal position to take Doraux and yet they simply allowed her to slip to the west...a blunder that is inconsistent with Myrhia's meticulous nature.\"\n\n\"We share the exact same disquiet, my friend. I have a suspicion that Myrhia's machinations toward Doraux are much more insidious...more subtle and nuanced...than we had first imagined. You are correct in saying that she had Islena in her fist at Runesholm and simply allowed her to slip away. Instinct whispers that this was more by design than simple carelessness.\"\n\n\"This subtle and devious approach is more worrisome than naked aggression...and certainly less predictable,\" Maroc observed as his smooth brow furrowed with concern. Inos nodded and the pair lapsed into a brooding silence. The elder found his gaze drawn to Sygeanor of its own accord. The woman sat astride her horse...a deadly engine in the guise of a lamb. As he watched her, Inos was again visited by the nagging certainty that disaster hovered over them like an invisible funeral shroud.\n\nChapter Fourteen\n\n1\n\nAn ashen-faced enchantress sat on the green grass of a sloping hill that did not exist in the physical sense of the concept. She listened with mounting horror as her hybrid Morticant recounted the grim details of the party's fantastic odyssey through the Land of Shades. The High Queen managed to repress her dismay before her perceptive servant only by a titanic exertion of will. Only her pallor betrayed any sense of her anxiety.\n\nLorio concluded her harrowing tale with a detailed recounting of the moment Islena had surrendered her sword to the band of belligerent specters.\n\nHere Myrhia could no longer contain her consternation with her creation. \"You obtuse bitch, do you have any notion of what you've allowed to happen?\"\n\nLorio's dark eyes flared, but her lovely face remained impassive and Myrhia shook her head in disgust, her mind racing to concoct a way to salvage something from this disastrous turn of events.\n\n\"What is Islena's condition now?\" she demanded coldly.\n\n\"The loss of the sword has seemingly robbed her body of its ability to hold the poison at bay. She falls deeper into its thrall with every passing hour.\"\n\nMyrhia winced and ran an index finger over her lower lip in a surprisingly pensive gesture. A rare cloud of doubt cast a shadow over her mantle of supreme confidence. \"Why did you not apprise me of this immediately after she suffered the spider bite?\"\n\n\"The Metocan and Jerhia held my every move under intense scrutiny,\" Lorio responded, her tone flat and inscrutable.\n\n\"Why?\" Myrhia demanded, arching an eyebrow.\n\n\"There were occasions when I was forced to extraordinary lengths to save the impetuous Islena. If nothing else, my traveling companions are perceptive. What is more, Emian the Metocan sage would quickly have detected any attempt at projection.\"\n\nBoth women were aware of the partial deception couched in these last two statements, but the enchantress decided to let it pass...for the moment. In her creed, no act of disobedience went unpunished. \"Very well, with Emian dead, you will be free to contact me when necessary. There is a small matter of retribution that I must attend to and then I will lead an expedition through the Land of Shades to personally take charge of Islena. You will take any measures necessary to guarantee that she is kept safe. If either of the Jerhia attempt to interfere, you may kill them both.\"\n\n\"And if Islena should die from the poison in the interim?\"\n\nMyrhia's eyes became hard, flat bits of obsidian. \"Then my ambition will have fallen to ruin and I will burn this wretched world to a cinder. Before I do, I will round up every Lamish and Redian swine and slowly flay them alive and feed you their bloody flesh. Never lose sight of the fate that befell your predecessor when she defied me.\"\n\nThe hybrid was familiar enough with the High Queen's nature to know that this was not an idle threat cast off in a fit of pique and she simply accepted this with a nod.\n\n\"Perhaps it would be best if I killed the two Jerhia now and took control of Doraux while she is under the sway of the venom.\"\n\nMyrhia considered this for a moment and then shook her head. \"No. The pathetic quest shall continue. Perchance, they might actually locate the pale relic they seek, though I dare say that they will find him to be a shabby and pale facsimile of his former self. It might even be amusing to observe how this once infallible king reacts to the current state of the world; a world which he helped fashion through his gullible nature.\"\n\n\"What of the lost sword,\" Lorio inquired, nonplussed by the hint of complex emotion that lurked beneath Myrhia's writhing contempt for the man who had been her husband. \"Do we simply abandon it to the specters?\"\n\n\"Of course not, you simpering idiot!\" Myrhia snapped, perturbed by Lorio's apparent stupidity. \"The Proclamations are a set and only as a complete set will they provide Doraux with the requisite power to shrug off the constraints of space and time. Her ascension is the key to my escape from this damnable world and the limitless wealth of opportunities that wait beyond. When I join you in the west, we will recover the Dragonsword, though I warn you that this task will require that we breech the domain of the most deadly of adversaries to do so.\"\n\nLorio arched an inquisitive eyebrow and Myrhia disclosed flatly, \"the realm of Otaru Ree, queen-keeper of the dead.\"\n\nThe hybrid's reaction was confined to a slight hitching of breath, though the mention of the esoteric name roused rare tremors of dread in the warrior's soul. \"I'm not sure I understand why the specters would steal the sword in the first place.\"\n\nThe enchantress frowned in disgust, brushing her ebony hair away from her cheek in short, sharp gestures that clearly signaled her irritation. \"In life, the Redian is a stupid, greed-driven creature. There is no reason to assume that death would endow a Redian with a greater degree of wisdom. Undoubtedly, Doraux's violent expenditures of power attracted the attention of many of the kingdom's inhabitants. Consider yourself fortunate that the ones who first reached you were so narrow-minded and stupid.\"\n\nLorio absorbed this in silence, her coal black eyes watching her mistress intently. After a moment, Myrhia nodded slightly and readied to make the journey back to her body, but not before imparting a final set of instructions. \"Allow the quest to continue for the time being. In fact, continue to encourage the Jerhia Halfling to persevere, but should anything threaten Islena's safety, take whatever steps are necessary to protect her.\"\n\nLorio hesitated briefly and then added, \"There is another matter.\"\n\nMyrhia's gaze, fraught with impatience, shifted back to the hybrid and Lorio briefly described the seizure that she had experienced in the clearing just after killing Emian and the nameless Emercian trooper. Myrhia listened carefully, her mind automatically drawing the parallel between Lorio's torment and her own painful experience.\n\n\"The Inner Circle grows audacious...this can be the only possible explanation. They are foolish if they believe they can strike across the Hiberas with impunity. Proceed as I've instructed. There will be no second recurrence of the attack. I will attend to the matter personally.\"\n\nIn the blink of an eye, the enchantress was gone, leaving Lorio standing alone on the grassy slope of a world that did not exist. The moment that Myrhia vanished, Lorio's façade of impassivity crumbled and she began to weep.\n\nBack in the tangible world, Islena Doraux...her one love and her darkest enemy...was slowly dying.\n\n2\n\nMyrhia's eyes abruptly opened and she sprang lithely to her feet, sending a runner for Adriatus as she did. Within minutes, her High Commander appeared at her side, his face twisted into a frown of apprehension with the taste of abjection still sour in his mouth. Every summons from Myrhia was potentially fatal and he approached the dark queen the way a dog might approach a harsh and unpredictable master.\n\nShe spared Adriatus a brief glance, her intense eyes ablaze with deadly purpose. \"Have adequate quarters been found?\"\n\n\"Yes, my queen, though I must caution that the city shows signs of radical decay. The wood is rotting and the very stone appears to be crumbling to dust.\"\n\n\"Then let it rot. At any rate, the state of Amberdias is not your concern. You are to assemble a legion of your finest troops and prepare them for a rapid journey to the west.\"\n\n\"Into the Land of Shades, my Queen?\" he cried miserably, his voice a low moan of anguish, but fell silent at the sight of the perturbed flush that colored her cheeks.\n\n\"Islena Doraux is in serious peril and the Dragonsword has been lost to meddlesome spirits. I will personally accompany the legion along with a contingent of Morticants. Baldasoran will command the legion of mercenaries to bolster your army. Adriatus, you are to make it clear that desertion will be punished by a hell of agony that will be beyond your darkest imagining. We will depart at first light come the morning.\"\n\nShe then spun about and strode quickly away from her High Commander, who stood motionless for several moments, his mind churning like a vortex over the prospect of marching into the land of darkness and mystery.\n\nMyrhia followed a dozen Morticants through the twisting back streets of Amberdias to the general meeting hall that had been selected to serve as her new quarters.\n\n' _Not that I'll require them for long,'_ she thought, eyes drawn to the advancing blight that was consuming the once spectacular city right before her very eyes. Amberdias, long the jewel of the world, was now a moldering corpse.\n\nThe notion filled her with perverse delight and she uttered a melodic, child-like giggle. Through all of her many incarnations had she not always played the role of the Queen of Wither and Shadow? The desecration of Amberdias was but another symbol of her mastery...her indisputable supremacy. Fate had deliberately cast her in the role of the despoiler...a role which she played to perfection.\n\nFinally, the enchantress mounted a set of crumbling stone steps and entered a low, squat building that had served as a meeting and lecture hall in brighter times. Now, the interior was falling rapidly to ruin as was much of the great city. Like many of the other buildings, this one had been thoroughly scavenged by roving bands of mercenaries. All that remained to serve as furnishing for the most powerful ruler in the world was a scattering of benches and badly scuffed tables. Myrhia was totally indifferent to the lack of suitable quarters. In her eons of confinement in the watery, stone cavern, where she had first awaken in this world, she had found herself in the company of nesting beetles and spiders bloated with venom. She had viewed this with neither fear, nor revulsion, and so this Spartan hall was sumptuously appointed by comparison.\n\nShe dispatched several of her Morticants to guard the various points of ingress along the building. It was doubtful that her trained dogs would be foolish enough to make another assassination attempt, but she now realized that there existed another formidable adversary to contend with.\n\nEven with the cumulative power of their combined talents, Myrhia doubted that the Inner Circle possessed the means to broach the Hiberas and strike at her and her hybrid-Morticant. This could only mean that they had found and developed a new weapon to carry on their sorcery-driven opposition to her campaign of conquest. This new element was not without its worrisome aspect for the enchantress and she understood that it was crucial that she meet this new threat with swift and brutal retaliation, lest the coalition grow bolder.\n\nComing to stand near the scarred central table, Myrhia deftly unfastened the clasps of her gown and pulled it over her head in a flourish. As she held the heavy material to arm's length, it burst into flames, consumed in an instant even as she held it forth.\n\nShe then selected one of her Morticants and commanded it to attend her. It opened its hulking arms and she went into its embrace. With her heaving breasts pressed against its massive chest and its arms encircling her tiny waist, the enchantress was all but lost in the behemoth's embrace. Myrhia lost herself in its warmth for a moment, surrendering to the delight of physical contact. As the Morticant held its creator, its physical structure began to undergo a rapid metamorphosis. Losing its solidity, the blue clay grew viscous and flowed over the enchantress, until Myrhia was completely encapsulated in the beast's essence.\n\nThus protected, her spirit rose out of her body and sped north in search of vengeance.\n\n3\n\n\"You're absolutely incorrigible!\" an exasperated Brazol declared as he and Xkador strolled through the meandering corridors of Othgol's central palace. \"Such talk is not only dangerous, it borders on open sedition.\"\n\n\"Be that as it may, it is still necessary to open this dialogue,\" Xkador insisted with quiet vehemence, though the corridor rang quiet and empty this late in the day. \"Inos is courting disaster as surely as if he'd invited Myrhia for an official state visit to Othgol. This Sygeanor is an unknown and dangerous commodity and I say she has designs on ultimate power in Othgol.\"\n\n\"A claim that you, yourself, cannot make Xkador?\" Brazol inquired wryly.\n\nXkador's translucent flesh colored and his large eyes narrowed. \"Do you mock me now, Brazol?\"\n\nThe Metocan sighed and raised his hands in a gesture of placation. Brazol despised conflict and confrontation. A placid, intellectual man by nature, he was more inclined toward the spiritual and mystical aspects of Metocan culture, than what he regarded as vulgar sorcery. Bereft of ambition, he harbored a strong aversion toward political infighting and maneuvering that came with governing. Xkador, on the other hand, was Brazol's diametric opposite.\n\nAmbition and a keen intellect had forged Xkador into a man who was consumed with obtaining power, though he had always been discreet in his machinations...careful not to allow indiscretion to ruin his slow and steady rise to power. It was this natural tendency toward caution that had made Sygeanor's revelation before the Inner Circle all the more unsettling. What was more, as a creature of ambition, Xkador had learned to recognize beasts of a similar stripe. Sygeanor's craving for power radiating like heat from the noon day sun...terrifying Xkador in its magnitude.\n\n' _And she has singled me out,'_ he thought, shuddering slightly. To Brazol, he remarked, \"Inos seems under her thrall somehow.\"\n\nThe other Metocan shifted a rueful gaze toward Xkador. \"Inos is perhaps the most perceptive elder in recent memory. I doubt that he would be easily beguiled...unless, of course, something came along that warranted such ardor. You cannot deny that Sygeanor is possessed with unprecedented ability.\"\n\n\"True, but if history has taught us anything it is that too much ability concentrated in one person can be a precarious thing. It invites excesses of the ego, shall we say.\"\n\nNow Brazol came to a complete stop. \"Let us be forthright, Xkador...where exactly does your line of contention lead?\"\n\n\"Succinctly put, I am suggesting that we enlist as many trustworthy members of the council as are willing to listen to my concerns. We impress upon them the dire need to preserve the integrity and independence of Metocan against all threats...external and internal. Should Inos' disposition toward Sygeanor threaten those priorities, we must be prepared to remove him as Grand Mage.\"\n\n\"And replace him with whom, Xkador?\" Brazol inquired pointedly.\n\n\"Someone whose first and only priority is the preservation of Metocan's cultural integrity. The Ulgak are a weaker, inferior second cousin, but should this half-breed have any say in the matter, we will be subservient to them. That is an eventuality that I will never tolerate.\"\n\n\"Such selfless nobility,\" Brazol snapped sardonically. \"Petty Xenophobia aside, I can assure you that there would be grave ramifications if any party attempted to depose Inos. His leadership has been progressive and beneficial to Metocan. Without his enlightened guidance, it is unlikely that we would have progressed beyond the state of isolation which had characterized the last several centuries of our recent history. Suggesting that he is a detriment to Metocan simply isn't credible, Xkador.\"\n\nThe Metocan conveyed his displeasure with a muffled grunt, deciding that there would be little to be gained by pressing the matter. Brazol was a moderate pacifist and lacked the courage to admit that drastic action was, on occasion, required if the nation's best interest was to be properly served. Still, there would be others in the Inner Circle who would be more amenable to Xkador's ideas.\n\nThe pair continued through the labyrinth of corridors for several moments and came to an abrupt halt when something fell from the cavernous ceiling onto Brazol's forehead. He grimaced and brushed the flat of his palm over the translucent flesh, shocked when it came away glistening with blood.\n\nShocked, the pair glanced up to discover a crimson blotch that was rapidly spreading across the entire elevated ceiling of the long corridor. Like a suspended river flowing in defiance of gravity, the blood advanced in both directions at once, twisting out of sight of the mystified pair.\n\nBefore either could comment, the blood began to rain down upon the corridor, spattering the marble floor and the two Metocan with vile, fist-sized droplets. Soon the pervasive smell of fresh blood filled the corridor, accompanied by echoing cries of revulsion and terror that issued from every quarter.\n\n\"What is happening?\" Brazol cried and now his features were entirely obscured by gore. Stricken by incredulity and burgeoning horror, Xkador did not reply. Twenty feet further along the corridor from where the transfixed pair now stood, something was in the process of pushing itself out of the very stone of the walls. The ancient stone tented out as if it was composed of some pliable material...stretching as if was elastic in composition and not unyielding stone.\n\nIn the next moment, Myrhia, the despoiler-enchantress, stepped into the center of the corridor, unmindful of the warm blood that pooled around her ankles. She stood at the center of the passage, regarding the two immobilized Metocan with a mock good humor that somehow made her sinister appearance all the more terrifying.\n\n\"And who do we have here?\" She inquired cheerfully and then sniffed the air experimentally. \"You both have the sickening reek of Inner Circle about you and that is just as well, seeing as I've come in search of worthy adversaries against which to test my magic.\n\nBrazol finally managed to break his paralysis and take a few shambling steps away from the shimmering apparition, scarcely able to credit that she would have the audacity to come to the very heart of her enemy's heartland.\n\nHe had taken but a few steps when Myrhia extended her right fist. There followed a massive constricting pressure in his chest as if invisible hoops of iron had been cinched around his torso.\n\nBrazol struggled to move, but his entire body was caught in a grip of immobilizing tetanus.\n\nMyrhia squeezed her fist and the Metocan could feel a huge force exert a crushing pressure on his belabored heart. He opened his mouth to scream, but the cry of agony was forestalled by a geyser of dark blood that erupted from his gaping mouth like a volcano.\n\nBrazol's cry became a liquid gasp as he collapsed to the bloody marble with his heart ground to a pulp by Myrhia's dark sorcery.\n\nXkador stared dumbly at this fallen comrade, too inured by fear and revulsion to even contemplate flight. He was still gaping at the gore-spattered Brazol, when he felt something hard and biting clamp down on his ankles. Twisting around, the Metocan saw that he'd been ensnared by a tendril of stone from the corridor walls. Like viscous water, it had flowed over the unsuspecting Metocan's feet, solidifying before he was able to react.\n\nThe Metocan tugged ineffectually and quickly realized that he was hopelessly ensnared. He turned his gaze warily to Myrhia, who regarded his plight with obvious amusement. She glided toward the Metocan, brazenly naked and extraordinary in her beauty. Indeed, the enchantress resembled the living embodiment of the deity she aspired to become.\n\n\"This is what you presume to oppose,\" she declared grandiosely as she hovered before the helpless Metocan.\n\n\"Your arrogance defies belief, woman...and it will be your undoing,\" Xkador rasped, though he failed to conjure the gruff, authoritarian voice that had come to characterize his bombastic ruminations in the Inner Circle meetings. \"That you would dare violate the Inner Sanctum of Othgol is a testimony to the extent of your mad hubris.\"\n\n\"Really,\" Myrhia rejoined sardonically. \"You cower behind the Hiberas like frightened children and yet muster the temerity to strike at me like craven weasels and still claim that I am mad. Did you really subscribe to the foolish assumption that I would not retaliate tenfold...that I would idly sit by and allow you to play your cowardly games?\"\n\nUncomprehending, a perplexed Xkador peered at Myrhia, confusion clouding his limpid eyes. The enchantress made a gesture of summons with either index finger and two thin spears of stone leapt from the wall directly behind the Metocan, skewering Xkador through either forearm.\n\nXkador howled in agonized indignation and thrashed like a bug impaled on a pin. His cries of pain reverberated along the bloody halls. Myrhia viewed his suffering with utter indifference. He lifted his tortured gaze to hers and saw that she had produced a small ebony-handled dagger, though he could have sworn that she had been empty handed only an instant before.\n\nHis gaze was drawn to the curving silver blade, its lustrous gleam declaring that that it was efficient and lethal killing tool. She moved closer still, until he could smell the scent of her flesh, even though the thing before him was but a specter. When she spoke, Myrhia's tone was casual, though her eyes were as hard as polished bits of obsidian. In those depthless eyes, Xkador knew that he would find no mercy or compassion.\n\n\"When I was a very young child, my mentors imparted some very extraordinary skills,\" Myrhia whispered softly, while gently running her blade over the skin of the Metocan's cheek. \"There are many who claim these arts are perverse...attractive only to the depraved mind, but I have found them to be particularly useful when the situation warrants. I have refined these arts to a degree that would astound my former teachers...if I might be allowed a moment of self-aggrandizement.\"\n\n\"You are an ineffably vile and wicked creature,\" Xkador gasped, trying, but failing not to tremble in response to the caress of the blade. He understood what she meant to do, but if he could muster the courage, Xkador judged that he could pull an arm free and snatched the dagger away from the enchantress, turning it upon himself before she could prevent it.\n\nBeing an ephemeral creature, Xkador understood that he could not kill Myrhia and saw that his only hope for escape would be found in the cold bosom of self-immolation.\n\nMyrhia threw back her head and laughed, before bringing the tips of her fingers together in a gesture of encirclement. In response, the protruding tips of blood stone snaked around the Metocan's wrists, effectively negating his one hope for escape.\n\nShe leaned closer until she was whispering into his ear, while the gleaming blade continued to trace the topography of his perspiration-slicked cheek. \"There are no easy routes of withdrawal, friend.\" Her gaze shifted along the length of the deserted corridor. \"Nor can you expect any help.\"\n\nThere followed a low grating sound that reverberated through the stones beneath the Metocan's feet and up into his viscera...which prompted the Xkador to cry out in agony. The massive stone walls slid along the marble floor, until the section of corridor in which the pair stood was completely cut off from access, leaving the Metocan and his tormentor in a sealed enclosure.\n\n\"See mage, we now have nothing to disturb our palaver,\" she crooned. \"What's more, I believe they will be preoccupied by other concerns but your wellbeing.\"\n\nAs if in affirmation of this terrifying declaration, another titanic rumble shook the ancient palace. The enchantress glared into Xkador's pain-dulled eyes and any trace of false levity had drained from her expression. She gripped the fabric of his dun-colored robe and commenced tearing the bloody fabric to shreds. Finally, she pulled it free of the Metocan's pallid body with a petulant tug, until he stood, naked and bloody, before the deadly apparition.\n\n\"So much better,\" she remarked softly, her eyes running over his body with a glint of revulsion. \"Death and pain are the two most intimate things that two people can share, wouldn't you agree, my dear Xkador. Even sex is a pale comparison.\"\n\nAs she spoke, the blade twisted languorously over the Metocan's bare chest, probing gently at the flesh without ever breaking the skin. Despite his best efforts to master his terror, Xkador could not completely suppress his trembling. His nostrils flared at the smell of his own terror.\n\n\"Even as a young Druid priestess, I was able to perfect the art of removing flesh from the subcutaneous tissue. Eventually, my prowess became such that I could remove the entire skin of an adult male without killing him. He would be reduced to a trembling, moaning mass of exposed muscle and ligature, but would still be very much alive.\" Myrhia leaned closed and the dagger tip exerted an incisive pressure on his taut abdomen, until he could feel the rather abstract weight of her breasts pressing against his chest. \"The most astounding aspect of the process was the victim's reaction to my ministrations. Invariably, the victim's manhood would stand erect to the heavens and he would surrender his seed even as he screamed for the mercy of death. The inherent contradiction of that truth has never failed to baffle me...no matter how often I've witnessed it compellingly dark poetry.\"\n\nShe abruptly stepped back and her gaze settled on his abdomen. Xkador followed that gaze and emitted a strangled cry as a thin, precise line of blood tracked its way down from his solar plexus to a spot just above of his naval.\n\nIn one swift movement, the enchantress made another incision at the base of and perpendicular to the first and a third some three inches to the left of the down stroke. Delicately, she began to peel the flesh upward.\n\nXkador hissed against the pain although it was considerably less than he might have expected...though the accompanying flow of blood was alarming. When he glanced into the frigid, remorseless depths of Myrhia's dark eyes, a dazed Metocan imagined that he could see an infinite number of galaxies blazing there...an infinite number of worlds where the strident braying of anguish and torment would be the predominant sound of life.\n\nDispassionately, she informed him, \"You will tell me everything that I wish to know.\"\n\n4\n\n\"A rider comes!\" cried one of the sentries that had been posted all along the camp perimeter, startling the expedition members out of their private reveries. Inos and Maroc had been finalizing details of the expedition's crossing over onto the eastern continent when the messenger had abruptly appeared, riding hard from the west. Both men rushed out from the command tent in time to see the single rider disembark from his horse before the beast had even stopped moving.\n\nThe Metocan approached the messenger, surprised to discover that he was a member of the Emercian cavalry. The man's narrow face was glistening with perspiration and his small eyes darted to and fro nervously. He glanced from Maroc to Inos, not certain to whom he should report.\n\n\"There is news from Othgol?\" Inos prompted, feeling the cold breath of his premonition blowing over the nape of his neck and dreading that his ambiguous fear had been given substance.\n\n\"Othgol has been struck by devastating sorcery, elder!\" the Emercian blurted. The great palace of the Inner Circle lies in rubble.\" Here he hesitated, unnerved by the severe expression that had spread over the Metocan's normally placid countenance. \"The majority of the Inner Circle has been slaughtered, along with hundreds of others who were in the palace at the time of the attack.\"\n\n\"Attack?\" Inos echoed dumbly, obliquely aware that Sygeanor had joined the group, her gray eyes narrowed into slits of consternation at the messenger's horrible disclosure. In that moment, the Metocan elder knew that she was not only cognizant of what had transpired, but understood precisely why Othgol had been the victim of this foul storm of sorcery,\n\n\"Tell us precisely what happened,\" Inos instructed, surprised by the degree of calmness that he was able to maintain in the face of calamity.\n\nThe messenger labored to construct a coherent description of the devastation that had befallen the capital city during the previous night. Inos absorbed the harrowing tale carefully, his face remaining impassive.\n\n\"Who has assumed control of the Inner Circle?\" he demanded...fearing that Xkador would attempt to capitalize on tragedy to fulfill his personal ambition.\n\n\"A female mage named Tokizar,\" the messenger disclosed, beginning to catch his breath and regain some semblance of composure in the face of the elder's calm reaction to the tragic news. \"It was she who commissioned me to bring the message to you. She instructed me to exhort you to return to the capital as swiftly as possible. She also charged me to give you this.\"\n\nReaching into a leather pouch, the Emercian withdrew a glittering blue orb to which all present reacted with a violent hiss as if the object carried with it the kiss of certain death. All present recognized the orb as Myrhia's preferred medium of dispatching royal edicts and messages.\n\nWith slightly trembling hands, the messenger handed the orb to Inos, grateful to be relieved of it presence as though it was ineffably vile. Inos considered the orb for a long moment before turning his gaze upon the Jerhia Maxim Tier Marshall and finally settling on Sygeanor. She met and held his reproachful glare evenly, until at last, Inos sighed and remarked, \"Let us discover what ill tidings this wicked construct of evil contains.\"\n\nAt once, the orb lifted from his hands as though of its own volition and floated skyward, erupting in a blinding burst of sapphire light that caused everyone to raise their arms to shield their eyes from its intensity. When the glare had abated, the expedition members were confronted by a flickering image of the enchantress, cast in ghastly hues of blue, which transformed her exceptional beauty into something horrible and rife with menace.\n\n\"Inos, I trust you have now learned what has befallen your precious palace of Othgol,\" she began, her voice light and blithe. \"Turn about is fair play, though surely you didn't expect that your cowardly escapade in Amberdias would go unpunished. Oh, I wonder if it was coincidence that you happened to be elsewhere when I decided to pay my little visit to your comrades...or could it be that you possess a craven streak beneath that façade of nobility? Irrespective, you and I will come face to face in the very near future. Yours is a race of ants and meddlesome fools who do not know their place. I was perfectly content to allow you to cower behind the Hiberas like frightened children, but you found it necessary to aspire to heroism.\"\n\n\"This is the consequence of your folly,\" Myrhia intoned harshly and raised her left arm, her fist entwined in the hair of a gruesomely mutilated and disembodied head. Tendrils of bloody flesh hung from the neck where the head had been savagely severed.\n\n\"Do you recognize this unfortunate Metocan, Inos?\" Myrhia taunted. \"I suspected not, but this is...was Xkador...a member of you Inner Circle.\"\n\nInos grimaced in revulsion, a low groan escaping his thin lips. Myrhia discarded the head the way some one might cast off a piece of garbage. \"In all due credit to Xkador, your Metocan died with dignity and courage...defiant until the very end. He never did reveal how you managed to strike at Amberdias. Thus, I will admonish you this once...attempt to interfere in my business again and I will return to reduce Othgol to a crumbling husk...a citadel of death.\"\n\nThe High Queen's image wavered and was gone, leaving a stunned and sickened Inos to ponder the terrible implications of all she had imparted.\n\nEyes brilliant with misery, a livid Inos turned to Sygeanor. \"I want to know precisely what it is you've done.\"\n\nThough the Ulgak glared belligerently at the Metocan elder, something in her hunched posture intimated that she had been profoundly unsettled by Myrhia's swift and devastating counter strike. \"When I arrived in Amberdias, Myrhia was absent...at least; her cognizant being was not present. Seeing her vulnerable and exposed, I decided to inflict as much physical damage on her body as I could. In the process, I also managed to thoroughly decimate her entire High Command in the west.\"\n\n\"And do you really regard this as a monumental achievement...something that justifies the consequences that your impetuous actions have wrought?\" Inos roared, his voice rolling across the clearing like summer thunder. \"Myrhia lives and her High Command was but a redundant fixture...an antiquated appendage. In your petulant stupidity, you may well have jeopardized our strike into Redia and destroyed an edifice of our society that has stood for a hundred centuries. Only Xkador's courage in death prevented this from becoming an absolute catastrophe.\"\n\nSygeanor shook with outrage and the compulsion to lash out, but nonetheless accepted this scathing reproof, knowing that her impulsive actions had rebounded upon Metocan with deadly effect.\n\nAfter a moment, Inos turned to Maroc and declared, \"In light of this disaster, I will leave the decision as to whether to proceed in your hands. I must return to Othgol and hope that I may salvage something from the detritus of Sygeanor's impetuous actions.\"\n\n\"The Jerhia will proceed with the expedition,\" Maroc stated at once. \"The moment that our scouts return from the opposite side of the causeway, we will proceed into the blighted lands.\" Maroc hesitated for a brief moment and then inquired, \"And what of Sygeanor...will you still allow her to accompany the expedition?\"\n\nInos' face twisted into a moue of distaste, his anger shimmering over his face like summer heat over an open roadway. \"Take her if you would have her.\"\n\nMaroc nodded solemnly and left the Metocan elder alone to make his hasty preparations for his return to the capital. As Inos prepared to depart, he found that he could scarcely contain his burgeoning despair for the ruined edifice that had stood as a beacon of enlightenment in his country for thousands of years. He wondered if he would be able to suffer the sight of such wanton destruction at the hands of the very type of monster the central palace had been erected to oppose.\n\nA shadow fell across his shoulder, but he did not turn to acknowledge the intruder, knowing full well who it would be.\n\n\"Inos, I'm genuinely sorry for what I've done,\" Sygeanor said softly. \"I wished only to inflict upon Myrhia a tiny portion of what she had inflicted upon us.\"\n\n\"All actions have consequences, Sygeanor,\" Inos responded gruffly, still refusing to turn and face the half-Ulgak. \"This is especially true of rash actions. You are accountable for the destruction of Othgol and the slaughter of the Inner Circle. Your obstinate refusal to apprise me of your actions has only augmented your culpability in the disaster.\"\n\n\"That is a coward's rationale for doing nothing!\" Sygeanor spat derisively and now the elder did turn to face the young woman. \"How do you think that Myrhia will respond to a direct assault on her precious source of blue clay? Will she wither with despair or praise you for the brilliance of your stratagem? Is it not likely that she will cross into Metocan and excoriate the entire country, just as she vowed she would? Is it not a fool's wistful thinking to believe that the evil ones will leave you in peace if you doing nothing to rouse their attention?\"\n\nThe irrefutable logic of the girl's passionate argument attenuated Inos' anger, if only marginally. \"Still, actions should be measured and not taken on an impulsive need to strike, consequences be damned. Myrhia now knows that we possess greater power than she first believed. I assure you that she will take precautions against a recurrence of your clumsy attack, thus squandering the element of surprise when we may actually need it.\"\n\n\"Ah, so now the lamentable truth emerges,\" Sygeanor rasped, her gray eyes flashing contemptuously. \"Inos, the Metocan paragon of virtue is stricken by the loss of property. Tradition aside, a palace is still only stone and mortar. Is your loss any greater than that of the lowest peasant who discovers that his wretched hovel has been set to the torch and his few meager possessions are gone? I have risen from such humble beginnings and I can tell you that the pain and loss are precisely the same. The very violence of her reaction demonstrates just how profoundly my attack affected Myrhia. Now, she finds herself confronted by another element of doubt, where before there was only supreme confidence. I regret the death of your comrades and my failure to apprise you of my actions, but I will not denounce those actions.\"\n\nInos sighed, his anger giving way to a discouraging sense of futility. \"Perhaps you are right. My grief for the loss of a palace may well be misplaced. I am unaccustomed to your manner and perspective, Sygeanor.\"\n\nThe Ulgak's eyes widened and her face blushed, believing that he was referring to her racial background. Inos quickly realized that she had misconstrued his remarked and placed a placating hand on her shoulder. \"I speak not of your ethnicity Sygeanor, but of your type of personality. You, along with Islena and Lorio...and even Myrhia, are implacable engines of certainty and confidence, who will forge the shape and direction of the future. It seems that your vision of what is necessary is never grayed by doubt.\"\n\nSygeanor smiled, her face made lovely by the rare expression. She was distinctly cognizant of the weight of his hand on her shoulder and was privately delighted by the sensation his touch aroused. \"I vow that I will be more...contemplative in my future actions, elder.\"\n\n\"That is all that I ask, Sygeanor. Maroc is a wise and worldly man, Sygeanor. Heed his council and learn from his example.\"\n\n\"This too I vow,\" the girl replied deferentially. Inos nodded, pleased that he had reached a manner of accord with the tempestuous Ulgak.\n\n\"I must return to Othgol at once, Sygeanor. I beg that you carefully weigh your every action in the east and always keep in mind that you may now be the free world's most valuable asset.\"\n\nInos quickly mounted his horse and was preparing to leave, when Sygeanor placed a hand on his wrist. \"Inos, there is something else I divined during my brief time in Amberdias. Perchance you may already have gleaned as much, but I have gained an insight into Myrhia's nature. She is not mortal and neither magic, nor conventional weaponry can do her any lasting harm. The enchantress could best be described as an entity...a vessel of unmitigated evil.\"\n\n\"This does little to inspire hope,\" Inos reflected somberly.\n\n\"Perhaps, but it is true nonetheless,\" She began to step back and then added, \"Though I am uncertain, I suspect that Islena Doraux me be a creature of similar ilk.\"\n\nInos nodded, bade the girl farewell and good fortune, and with leaden heart, began to journey home.\n\n5\n\nThe reality of what awaited Inos upon his return to the capital was far worse than what his imagination had first conjured. In truth, this was the first time in over seven thousand years that the soil of Metocan had suffered the blight of warfare or aggression. Metocan was a country of magic and mysticism, respected by the noble and rightfully feared by the ignoble. War was perceived as an activity that was relished by men of lesser virtue...a tool of greed and power. For centuries, his country had viewed warfare from this lofty perspective of moral superiority, safe in the conviction that no aggressor would dare to carry their wars onto sacred Metocan soil.\n\nWith the coming of Myrhia, that certitude had eroded to dust. Myrhia feared or revered nothing and she had little reason to, as evinced by her rapid demolition of the previously invincible Jerhia.\n\nSomewhere over his shoulder, Inos was distantly aware of the sound of Tokizar's incessant weeping. For his part, the Metocan elder was simply too numb with shock and grief to manifest any outward sign of emotion.\n\nThe once great palace, which had long stood at the heart of Metocan culture, had been reduced to a charred mountain of stone, wood and marble. The great portico had tumbled into the vast, tiled fountain, where it now lay like the moldering bones of a great beast. The palace had been ringed by a series of curving parapets and towers, all of which had been toppled.\n\nIt staggered Inos to think that such tradition and history could be so reduced in a matter of a few terrible minutes. Gazing over the wreckage of the mighty structure, Inos thought this is how it might appear if Myrhia could tear out the soul of Metocan and leave it exposed and screaming before the entire world.\n\nSymbolically, the enchantress had achieved precisely that. The bitter truth of this was ingrained deeply in every face and blazed in every eye...the loss of innocence that would never be regained, even though the sprawling structure would eventually be replaced.\n\nSygeanor had claimed that this sense of irretrievable loss was common to both kings and peasants alike, but Inos doubted that any peasant ever experienced the cumulative despair of a thousand generations weighing down upon their shoulders, while gazing upon the ruins of their charred hut.\n\n\"How many lost, Tokizar?\" the Grand Mage inquired, unable to drag his despondent gaze away from the smoldering ruins.\n\n\"All save Jerrod and I,\" she managed, her voice choked by a constant outpouring of grief. For Tokizar, the loss of Brazol was akin to the loss of the very world. \"It is impossible to estimate the total casualties until we begin sifting through the rubble, but estimates run as high as eight hundred and thirty dead or missing.\"\n\nInos' breath hitched briefly in his chest, but otherwise he accepted this horrific death toll impassively. \"Very well. Have suitable new quarters been located for what remains of government?\"\n\nTokizar stared at Inos, momentarily nonplussed by his cold, obdurate demeanor in the face of ineffable loss. The famed Inner Circle now consisted of three members. She could scarcely credit that he would concern himself with where the decimated group would be lodged.\n\nFor once, she summoned the courage to question the elder, who looked her directly in the eyes, causing her to flinch, even though his expression was kind and compassionate. \"Even though we may be overwhelmed by personal despair, we are obligated to subjugate our grief and carry on for the greater good. We must return to a semblance of normalcy as quickly as possible, lest the confidence of our people crumble and erode just as the palace did.\"\n\n\"What are we to do, Inos?\" Tokizar demanded pleadingly, just as another flood of tears began to spill from her large, luminous eyes.\n\n\"Carry on, Tokizar...what alternative do we have?\" Inos advised her firmly. She nodded morosely, drew herself erect and shuffled despondently off to comply with her elder's instructions, leaving Inos alone to contemplate the appalling destruction of what had once been his home.\n\nChapter Fifteen\n\n1\n\nA harrowing scream ushered Arminda up from a fitful sleep...a sleep that seemed incapable of providing her exhausted body with the rest it required. The Jerhia grimaced, not caring for the dull ache radiating from her bones as though old age had simply dropped upon her during the course of the night.\n\nShe briefly harbored the fleeting hope that she might be dreaming, but that disconcerting braying persisted, spiraling up into pearlescent dawn sky. Groaning, Arminda opened her eyes and lethargically pushed her way to her feet, knowing that the cause of this turmoil could only be Islena Doraux.\n\nIt had been two days since Islena had willingly surrendered the Dragonsword to the malevolent specters. In the intervening days, Doraux had declined steadily into the thrall of the keeper spider's virulence and though it was apparent that the poison lacked the efficacy to actually kill Doraux, it held absolute sway over her flesh, twisting it violently, while sending Islena deep into the fevered embrace of illness.\n\nLorio, Islena's self-appointed keeper, sat near a small stream with the savior cradled tenderly in her lap. Lorio's dark eyes radiated a concern that was only present when the Lamish warrior looked upon Doraux. Otherwise, the dark beauty's face was a portrait of glacial impassivity.\n\nArminda was surprised to find Gillian standing some ten feet from the pair, regarding Doraux's plight with a perplexed frown set upon his angular face.\n\nArminda drifted listlessly down the green slope, trying to conjure sufficient energy to propel her through another day of what had rapidly become a lunatic trek of the damned.\n\n\"How does she fare?\" the Jerhia inquired of Lorio, her voice weary and feeble.\n\nThe Lamish warrior gazed up and for the briefest instant; Arminda gleaned something of the distress that Islena's illness was inflicting upon her. \"She is essentially the same. Her heart and respiration are both strong, but her body is wracked by powerful spasms. At times they subside, but only for a short interlude.\"\n\nArminda shifted her gaze to Doraux, who constantly writhed and squirmed in Lorio's grasp. The Lamish woman had stripped away most of Islena's clothing to help fight the fever. The Jerhia could clearly see how Islena languished in the depths of incessant torment. Perspiration had soaked through her sleeveless tunic and ran in rivers down her brow and cheeks. The powerful muscles of her extraordinary body bulged and contracted as though her body was a mass of entangled snakes.\n\nOccasionally, Islena's eyelids would flutter open, revealing gleaming orbs as black as ebony. Regarding her plight, a new wave of dejection washed over Arminda and she shook her head and settled heavily to the dark grass next to the pair.\n\n\"Is there really any point in persisting with this futile venture?\" she murmured.\n\nThe hybrid fixed the Jerhia with an impatient scowl. \"Smell the air girl. That in itself is sufficient motivation to persevere.\"\n\nArminda inclined her head and sniffed at the westerly breeze. The tangy smell of salt water filled her nostrils and she merely nodded. The ocean was close now, perhaps no further than a day's trek.\n\n\"I've never seen an ocean,\" the Jerhia remarked wistfully as Doraux cried out and arched her back. Arminda found that she could scarcely imagine what such a vast body of water might look like. For her, the world had always been defined in terms of soaring mountains and deep, shadowy valleys. She was surprised and delighted to find that she was anxious to gaze out over the sea and ponder the awesome spectacle of blue-green waters blending into the distant horizon.\n\n\"Neither have I, but I did travel extensively while growing up. You and I shall have our first glimpse of the ocean together. It may well be our only remuneration for all that we have endured.\"\n\nArminda regarded the enigmatic Lamish beauty in silence for a moment, surprised by this rare display of capriciousness. After a time, she asked, \"Is she capable of travel?\"\n\n\"No, but I will serve as her legs,\" Lorio replied.\n\n\"You mean to carry her?\" a startled Jerhia asked to which Lorio merely grinned. Without a word of explanation as to her intended purpose, Lorio set about gathering the required materials before fashioning a decidedly sleek version of a travois.\n\nArminda appeared thoroughly mystified by the device, and while it would still not make conveyance easy, it was certainly preferable to carrying the heavily-muscled Doraux.\n\n\"Islena first made one of these to haul me along after our escape from the dungeons of Perdwick,\" Lorio revealed. In the time that Arminda had known the Lamish woman, this was Lorio's first mention of her ordeal on the eastern continent. This small insight bestowed a hint of humanity on the normal reticent beauty. \"I was incapable of even standing and Islena dragged me for days. This is my opportunity to repay that extraordinary kindness.\"\n\nArminda merely nodded. After the flood of rancor that had passed between the pair, the Jerhia now found that she had developed a grudging respect and admiration for the woman. In time, it might even be possible to grow to love her...should Lorio permit the nurturing of such an intimate friendship.\n\nEvents of the immediate future would unequivocally shatter that hope.\n\nIt was mid-morning by the time the four were prepared to commence the day's journey. Gillian took the lead, his short sword and dagger prominent against his russet trousers. As Arminda watched him, she realized that his improving condition was the one bright spot of the last dark days. His pale blue eyes were markedly clearer for longer periods of time and he had actually begun to converse again, though in halting, truncated sentences.\n\nIt did not occur to Arminda that Gillian never displayed any hint of his recovered faculties within earshot of the hybrid. Somehow, this detail had completely escaped her cognizance, though Emian might have grasped the motivation behind Gillian's feigned infirmity.\n\nArminda walked next to Lorio, who pulled the delirious Islena along with ease and an unflagging energy that struck the Jerhia as almost inhuman. The muscles of the Lamish woman's long arms stood forth like heavy cables and her shoulders appeared bursting with limitless power.\n\nIndeed, the ocean felt definitely closer now. Arminda expected to see the spectacle of boundless water revealed each time they crested a rise.\n\nAn abrupt crashing sound resonated through the forest then, followed by an ululating cry that chilled the blood in Arminda's veins and caused the bronze flesh on her arms to rise up in great hackles. Then a brooding silence descended on the forest and the harrowing cry did not come again. Lorio noted the Jerhia's alarmed reaction with a slight grin of amusement.\n\n\"Be alert...we are not alone!\" Lorio cautioned\n\n\"Specters, do you think?\" Arminda inquired with just the slightest tremor of apprehension.\n\n\"No doubt there are shades about, but I sense that this forest is alive with beasts of a more tangible kind. They are aware of our presence and we must be ready to confront them.\"\n\nArminda signified her understanding with a tense nod and glanced warily toward the looming forest, with its dense foliage and deep shadows. Her mind seemed to work tirelessly to conjure a new plethora of terrifying menaces...each worse than the last.\n\nIt was mid-afternoon when Lorio stopped abruptly and inclined her head to the heavens and gestured for silence. A startled Arminda complied, though at first she could detect no hint of what had attracted the Lamish warrior's attention.\n\n\"What do you hear?\" she inquired though Lorio silenced her with a curt chopping gesture. Slowly, Arminda raised her crossbow, which the hybrid had altered by fashioning a crude sling. The sling fit over the forearm of the Jerhia's good arm and allowed her to fire the weapon without the need for both arms. The method was slow and cumbersome, allowing for only a single shot, but with Arminda's deadly proficiency, quite often a single shot was all that was required.\n\nLorio remained stationary for several moments and then cursed softly. Arminda strained to hear what had so disturbed the other woman and then the sound reached her ears...a deep turbulence of the air that could only be the slow beating of massive wings.\n\nArminda's face brightened in direct counterpoint to Lorio's dark scowl. Sormias had finally returned.\n\nAn instant later, the spectacular winged creature appeared just over the tips of the trees and glided to the ground, landing gracefully some twenty paces from where the party had stopped. Arminda stared at the Golgar in open wonder, entranced by the daunting span of wings and the luminous golden skin.\n\nHe crossed over to the four and raised his hand in an exuberant gesture of greeting, pointedly ignoring Lorio's hostile glare. \"Well met, fellow adventurers...I see that you have made good progress since last we parted.\"\n\nHe glanced about questioningly, his eyes settling briefly upon the fever-stricken Doraux, before coming to rest on the nominal leader.\n\n\"Where are the others?\" he inquired curiously.\n\n\"Dead,\" Arminda declared tersely, her voice flat and inflectionless.\n\n\"Then you've encountered serious difficulties during the course of your trek. How did your companions meet their end?\"\n\nArminda grimaced, despising the euphemistic phrase that would reduce death to something more palatable than it truly was. Briefly, she described the events that had befallen the party during its passage through the possessed forest.\n\nThe tale left Sormias feeling somber. \"Indeed, that section of land did seem rather inimical...forbidding in a manner that was difficult to describe.\"\n\n\"Again, you didn't think that this insight might merit a warning?\" Lorio spat disdainfully. \"I'm beginning to think that you prefer to be elsewhere whenever trouble rears its' scabrous head.\"\n\nSormias regarded Lorio for the first time, offering the fuming woman a smile and a slight bow. \"I see that your contentious friend has changed not a whit. Your surliness could grow endearing...given a dozen lifetimes to grow accustomed to it.\"\n\nLorio's face darkened and she started toward the Golgar, but Arminda imposed herself between the pair. \"Are you a warrior or a schoolgirl, who is easily enflamed by flippant barbs? There will be no further provocation.\"\n\nThe hybrid scowled at the Jerhia, whom she could have crushed with the ease of one crushing an insect, but instead simply nodded and stalked off a pace or two.\n\nArminda watched her and fetched a chagrined sigh before turning back to the Golgar, who was kneeling next to Islena, regarding her with an expression of pity and concern...or so Arminda believed, for in truth, there was no way to divine Sormias' feelings with any degree of accuracy. The same could be said for his nature or his intentions.\n\nA rippled of disquiet resonated through Arminda's flesh, filling her with ambiguous and icy terror, but she savagely shrugged the emotion off. Coming to stand beside the winged creature, she inquired, \"Did you have any success in locating our missing king?\"\n\n\"Indeed, I did,\" Sormias proclaimed ebulliently, though his gaze never strayed from Islena's face, which appeared tranquil and angelic in repose. \"I must say that the man I located seemed in no way regal. In truth, his humble abode and circumstances seemed better suited to a peasant.\"\n\n\"Then it is true...that wretch, Ynthrax, did not lie!\" Arminda exclaimed, fearing that she might burst into tears. For the first time since this hellish ordeal had begun, the party had been granted a faint glimmer of hope.\n\n\"Artumas Lives!\" the Jerhia bellowed, brandishing her good fist at the heavens as though in defiance of their apparent indifference. She again turned to Sormias, who was regarding her as if she might have parted ways with her reason. Now she could no longer restrain the tears of joy that spilled from her pale blue eyes. \"Did you speak with him...was he well?\"\n\n\"I did not speak with him because I came upon him only last night, by which time he was asleep. I reasoned that it might be...distressing to be awoken by a flying creature in the dead of night. As to his health...he is alive. In a place such as this, that is a considerable achievement for any mortal.\"\n\nArminda absently brushed at her tears and averted her eyes to hide her exasperation with the Golgar, who seemed to believe that rousing a man from his slumber was the most heinous of crimes.\n\n\"Can you estimate how many days journey it will require to reach Artumas?\"\n\n\"The ocean is a day and a half away at a brisk pace. From there, you must turn south and move along the rock strewn shore for perhaps three days. I would seriously advise against attempting to expedite the march by angling through the forest. Unspeakable terrors dwell here and the sooner you reach the water's edge, the better served you will be.\"\n\nArminda extended a hand and tentatively laid it on the Golgar's shoulder. \"Sormias, there is no way that I can express my gratitude for what you've done for us. An entire civilization is in your debt.\"\n\n\"It sounds as though you believe this Artumas to be a panacea for every ill and woe?\" Sormias remarked questioningly.\n\n\"He is a human...and like all humans, he is fallible, but without him our world could well be doomed.\" Then Arminda gestured toward Islena, who had fallen into a relatively calm doze. \"This woman could well be the world's last remaining hope in the face of a flood tide of darkness. You see Sormias, Myrhia intends to extinguish the light from the very face of our world and plunge every living thing into eternal night. Virtue, nobility and compassion...these traits will be held to ridicule and contempt in the world the enchantress would fashion. Islena...and to a less extent...Artumas are the last remaining champions of light.\"\n\n\"Your Islena's condition has deteriorated since last we parted ways,\" Sormias observed gravely.\n\n\"Yes,\" Arminda confirmed flatly and then provided the Golgar with a brief account of the party's confrontation with the specters to whom Islena surrendered the sword.\n\n\"So Islena simply gave over the icon without opposition?\" Sormias asked, his brow furrowing at the perplexing notion.\n\nThe Jerhia simply nodded, sharing his clear puzzlement.\n\n\"It is possible that her actions may have come as a direct result of her poisoning.\" Sormias bent forward and pressed three fingers into the deep valley between Islena's heaving breasts, marveling at the solidity of this amazing creature, and then he closed his eyes, extending his senses into the fevered caldron of her flesh.\n\nLorio, who had made a dramatic show of pointedly ignoring the Golgar, now wheeled around, her dark eyes blazing furiously. \"How dare he touch her?\"\n\nDrawing her quarterstaff in one fluid motion, the livid hybrid sprang toward the Golgar, surprised to discover that a great portion of her ire was inspired by jealousy.\n\nShe had taken but two steps toward the Golgar, when to her utter astonishment...Arminda rose swiftly to her feet and leveled her crossbow directly at her chest.\n\n\"One more step and I'll put a bolt through your loathsome heart,\" the Jerhia intoned coldly, her expression as flat as dull stone.\n\nLorio stopped, eyeing the bolt warily, before raising her gaze to meet the Jerhia's glare. \"Rest assured that I will kill you for this.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Arminda rasped tightly, \"but for now, you will not interfere.\"\n\nThe two women glared at each other, but neither moved for the several moments it took Sormias to complete his ministrations. He continued to move his fingers in small circles over the hard flesh, until golden effulgence began to radiate out from the area of contact. After a time, his entire hand was emerged in a ball of luminous golden light.\n\nThen, as though withdrawing from something ineffably vile and possibly deadly, Sormias abruptly snapped his hand away, extinguishing the golden light in the blink of an eye.\n\n\"This virulence is incapable of inflicting lasting damage upon her physical body, but it has besieged the ramparts of her mind. Without the mitigating influence of the Icon, it is likely that her reason will become a slave to the poison.\"\n\nArminda emitted a harsh grunt and chanced a brief glance over her shoulder. The Golgar was gazing down upon Islena, an expression of acute concentration set upon his alien countenance.\n\nSomething in that expression filled the Jerhia with extreme disquiet and she inquired, \"Sormias?\"\n\nHe glanced up at the Jerhia and he could discern an intense war of conflicting emotions raging behind his golden eyes. Cryptically, he declared, \"I cannot allow this to come to pass.\"\n\nIn a swift motion that bedazzled Arminda's senses, he swept the unconscious form of Islena into his rippling arms and with a powerful flap of wings, took to the air.\n\nTransfixed by shock and incredulity, the Jerhia could only stand paralyzed as the Golgar spiraled into the sky and then turning about in a great arc, flew purposefully to the north.\n\nLorio uttered a hoarse cry of negation and bounded forward, delivering a two-fisted, clubbing blow to the center of Arminda's back, which sent the Jerhia tumbling unto her face in the tall grass. Lorio reached down and savagely jerked the crossbow and brace from the Jerhia's grasp. She raised the weapon and took careful aim at the Golgar, who was in truth, already well out of range. In the instant before she could loose the bolt, Arminda reached out and drove a sweeping forearm to the back of the hybrid's knees. Lorio brayed a cry of surprise before landing heavily on her back. The force of the impact dislodged the weapon from her grasp, sending it tumbling into the thick grass some ten feet away.\n\nThe hybrid howled in frustration and began to scramble through the tall grass on her hands and knees. When at last she retrieved the crossbow, Sormias and his dormant passenger had long since passed out of sight.\n\nFor a protracted moment, Lorio stood absolutely still as though locked in the grip of total paralysis, the crossbow dangling forgotten in her hand.\n\nArminda rose cautiously to her feet, sensing the gathering storm that must inevitably break with terrifying ferocity. An instant later, Lorio spun about, her dark eyes fixing upon Arminda with immutable hatred.\n\nSlowly, she leveled the crossbow at the diminutive Jerhia. \"You dog spawned bitch!\"\n\n\"If I had allowed you to shoot, you might well have killed Islena,\" Arminda reasoned, struggling to maintain an even tone.\n\nThe attempt at logic did nothing to placate the seething Lorio, who cast the crossbow aside and started toward the Jerhia. \"I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago, Halfling...only I won't deny myself the pleasure of killing you with my bare hands.\"\n\nAs the Lamish warrior advanced on the smaller Jerhia, Arminda realized that her sinuously-muscled body and leonine grace might easily inspire fear in an adversary. Everything about her movement suggested lethal proficiency and an unfettered willingness to put those lethal skills to use. Only a lifetime of indoctrination in the Jerhia creed prevented Arminda from turning and fleeing before the frightful advance.\n\nFrom an early age, all Jerhia were schooled in the art of unarmed combat. Arminda instinctively settled into a defensive stance, while still attempting to forestall a potentially deadly confrontation. \"Lorio, this is needless and ludicrous...your rage is misdirected.\"\n\n\"Really? Perhaps I am deluded, but was it not you who prevented me from pulling Sormias away from Islena?\" Lorio growled.\n\nArminda grimaced and braced herself, though Lorio's attack drove her backward in a dervish of fists and feet. The Jerhia managed to elude many of the blows, but found that she was helpless to retaliate in the face of such an intense assault. Inevitably, a high kick broke through Arminda's defenses and clipped the diminutive blond high on the left cheek bone.\n\nArminda grunted and staggered back, frantically swinging her arms in a desperate fight to retain her balance. Lorio followed quickly, efficiently pummeling the shorter woman with a half dozen heavy blows to the face and ribs. Before she could fall, Lorio seized her paralyzed arm and hauled her upright. Through pain-glazed eyes, Arminda saw Lorio's face twist into a predator's grin. \"You absurd little bitch...how foolish you were to think that you could claim leadership of this quest. Look where your leadership has gotten us.\"\n\nShe began to twist and jerk the Jerhia about by her useless arm, verbally degrading her while continuing to belabor her with a series of grazing kicks that split the smaller woman's brow open and obscured her face beneath a mask of crimson gore.\n\nLorio continued to humiliate Arminda, until the Jerhia screamed an incoherent plea for mercy. The hybrid responded by driving a knee into her midsection and allowing her to sag, gasping, to the grass, where she laid sobbing and trembling from the pain of her beating.\n\nLorio stood motionless over Arminda for several moments, gazing down on the Jerhia's battered and bloody countenance. She found herself unable to comprehend the forces that had driven her to such cruel and brutal lengths.\n\nArminda rolled onto her back and shivered with pain. Gazing up at Lorio through a filter of vermillion, the statuesque beauty appeared to be the very quintessence of evil. The Jerhia moaned softly and cursed her stupidity.\n\nLorio straddled the battered Jerhia when suddenly something incisive pressed into the nape of her neck. A sharp pressure dimpled the thin skin there and Lorio understood that it was the tip of Gillian's sword that was pressed against her spine.\n\n\"Enough!\" the Jerhia intoned gravely and Lorio discerned that the simple word was uttered with great effort.\n\n\"I have no intention of harming her further, but I might be tempted to turn my fury on you if you don't remove your sword this instant,\" Lorio promised flatly.\n\nThe sword lingered for a moment and then dropped away. Lorio glowered at the Jerhia for several moments, but Gillian merely met her regard in that odd, disconnected manner that had become his signature expression since his return.\n\nLorio extended a hand of assistance to Arminda, though she did not offer an apology for her barbaric behavior. The two remained in this position for a long time and finally a wary Arminda accepted the hand and allowed herself to be hauled upright.\n\nArminda tottered and almost collapsed, but Lorio quickly held her upright, noticing how the Jerhia winced as the hybrid's arm slipped around her waist. She then led the other woman to the edge of the stream and bid her to lie on the grass near the water's edge.\n\nTearing long strips from her own tattered tunic, Lorio dipped the cloth into the stream and tenderly washed the blood from Arminda's face, which had begun to swell dramatically in the aftermath of her beating. While Lorio administered to Arminda's wounds, neither woman exchanged so much as a word. The Jerhia stared up at the heavens through eyes that had been reduced to glimmering slits, striving to master the sense of humiliation and pain she was suffering. Lorio bent forward and carefully examined the woman's ribcage by slowly running her hands along either side of her torso, stopping occasionally to apply a slight pressure whenever Arminda would grimace.\n\nArminda suffered the examination stoically, though she uttered a piercing cry when Lorio finally located the damaged ribs. Employing her fingertips, she traced the entire length of the damaged area.\n\n\"It's cracked, but not broken,\" she declared dispassionately. In all, Lorio's savage assault had cracked three of Arminda's ribs, even though something had restrained the force of her blows. The hybrid then tore strips of thick cloth from her pack and bound the Jerhia's ribs as well as the crude restraints would allow. Arminda grimaced against the pain, but she did not cry out.\n\nAs she worked, Lorio took great care to treat Arminda's wounds as gently as possible, wondering why she was assailed by such an enormous degree of shame. Even before Myrhia had inculcated her evil seed into Lorio's heart, the tempestuous Lamish woman had left victims, too numerous to count, bloodied and battered in the dirt in gaming fields all over the eastern continent. Many of these had, in truth, been no less helpless than Arminda. She had cruelly toyed with opponents who had gibbered and trembled as they faced her. She had reduced each one to a whimpering mass of battered flesh for the amusement of her people and never once had she experienced the powerful sense of self-loathing that she felt at this precise moment as she administered to the diminutive Jerhia. She was surprised to realize that the source of her self-contempt might stem from the realization that Arminda was perhaps the most noble and honorable creature she had ever encountered.\n\nWhen she completed the binding, she gently pushed the Jerhia onto her back. \"The binding is crude, but it will alleviate the pain to some degree. For now, it is best that you rest.\"\n\nArminda merely gazed at Lorio, her normally pretty face now distended and bruised. On impulse, the hybrid reached into her pack and withdrew a small object that was wrapped in a rough piece of cloth. She unfurled the cloth and a lovely ornamental dagger with a jade handle fell into her open palm.\n\n\"This dagger is called a Zarcyk. In Lamish, it means edge of the soul. It is a symbol of personal honor. Husbands and wives with exchange Zarcyk as a symbol of personal fidelity and trust. This was my mother's.\" Wistfully, the hybrid dropped the dagger into Arminda's hand.\n\n\"What I have done to you is deplorable and cries out for vengeance. By surrendering my Zarcyk to you, I signify that my soul is now confined to your keeping. When you wish to collect your rite of vengeance, I will not lift a hand to oppose you.\"\n\nArminda glanced from the dagger to Lorio, flabbergasted by the implications of its surrender. The Jerhia studied the exotic beauty and gleaned the sincerity in this gesture...and its gravitas. Voice slurred by pain, Arminda intoned, \"I will keep your Zarcyk, but not because I intend to claim any rite of vengeance. I will keep this dagger as a symbol of my stewardship over your soul. While I retain this Zarcyk, you must pledge fealty to me.\"\n\nLorio hesitated for a moment, but finally conveyed her submission with a nod. She then started to rise, but Arminda gripped her wrist. \"Lorio, I truly do believe that Sormias has no intention of harming Islena. What ever his motivations might be in abducting her, I am certain that he will return her in time.\"\n\n\"Let's hope you are correct,\" the hybrid muttered distantly and left the Jerhia to rest.\n\n2\n\nThe initial days of the expedition's Journey to Redia served to dampen much of the wild enthusiasm that had accompanied the group upon its departure from Metocan.\n\nThe winding line of troops and provisions crossed the causeway into the Blighted Lands and was served an immediate notice that its passage would be both onerous and hostile.\n\nA vicious series of Sheraks...the ferocious winter storms that had nearly killed Islena and Lorio as they had fled from Myrhia's army...had dropped a deep blanket of snow over the forlorn wastes, making passage an enervating venture.\n\nThe extreme cold further aggravated an already difficult situation. Maroc soon saw that the expedition's greatest concern would become scarcity of food and immediately ordered a reduction to half rations...an unpopular initiative that quickly brought spirits tumbling.\n\nBy the time the party had reached Runesholm Abbey, every member had come to the stark realization that this journey across the Blighted Lands would inevitably become a very personal struggle of will and perseverance. Most drove the prospect of running battles to follow firmly from their minds, lest they fall victims to total despair and dejection.\n\nWith the main body of the force halted some three hundred meters behind, Sygeanor, Maroc and Kevlan traipsed through the waist-deep snow and stood atop a ridge that over looked the abbey.\n\nIn the months since Islena had unleashed her destruction upon the great stone structure, the Abbey had gradually crumbled, slowly vanishing beneath the inexorable assault of the surrounding wastes.\n\n\"I suspect that, in time, this place absorbs everything, both good and evil,\" Maroc remarked reflectively as he gazed down on the abbey, where deep, brooding shadow had gathered around the hulking stone walls. What had once served as a home to religious madmen had now been abandoned...left alone to molder with only the snow and the incessant howling of the bleak wind for company.\n\nMaktir, the dour Natzurdan elder, came to join the trio on the wind swept slope. As he gazed down on the desiccating bones of the blood abbey, a baleful glare stole onto his face and he spat into the wind. \"This wretched place has no soul. The land is sterile...vitiated by malice. It is offensive even to tread upon.\"\n\nPrivately lamenting the loss of Morzhian, Maroc remarked, \"Still, tread upon it we must if we are to have any chance of reaching Redia undetected. Crossing south of the River Tynan means certain detection and our only hope of success lies in evasion until we are prepared to strike in Redia.\"\n\nMaktir merely grunted. \"I am simply cautioning you that Natzurdan ritual will hold no sway with this barren earth. This land is not of the Mother and it is from the Mother that we Natzurdan draw our power.\"\n\n\"Then I shall act as her emissary in this matter,\" Sygeanor declared bluntly. \"Perform your rituals as required and I will supply the raw puissance with which to enact them.\"\n\nMaktir glowered at the girl, irritated by her impertinence and horrified that she would think to stand in the Mother's stead. Sygeanor met his belligerence unflinchingly, her gray eyes glinting dangerously. \"There is something that concerns you with this arrangement, elder?\"\n\nThere was an adversarial, combative edge to the Ulgak's voice that prompted the elder to blink.\n\n' _This is a formidable creature...and not necessarily a benevolent one,'_ he discerned and though he considered her claim heretical, Maktir was shrewd enough to let the matter rest. With a curt bow, he returned to his contingent.\n\nMaroc turned to the placid Kevlan, who seemed immune to dejection or defeatism and who had spent a decade wandering the wastelands in service of his country. \"The abbey seems deserted. Did Islena's outburst kill everyone present?\"\n\nKevlan shook his head in his slow, wistful manner. \"No, though a good many did perish, the majority of those died at the hands of the High Queen and her abomination. I presume that the rest merely fled.\"\n\n\"Very well, take two Jerhia and explore the grounds and structure,\" he instructed and signaled for two horsemen to escort the Metocan down into Runesholm. \"If we are fortunate, this wretched place will provide us with a night's shelter from this accursed wind.\"\n\nAs Kevlan waited for his mounted escort, he turned to the Maxim Tier Marshall. \"Though it seems improbable on the surface, there is a great, yet cruel beauty about this place. In the icy recesses of the Blighted Lands, it is impossible to escape the harsh realities of one's own soul. It is a good land in which to reflect on the inner truth of who we are.\"\n\nPhilosophical pronouncement delivered, Kevlan started down the slope, plowing through the waist deep drifts as though he was shuffling through pastures of the deepest green.\n\nA bemused Maroc watched him go, unaware of how profoundly the remark had influenced Sygeanor, who shivered at the prospect of confronting her inner nature. \"Do you suppose that Inos despises me for what I did in Amberdias?\"\n\nSygeanor had not been aware of her intention to pose the question, but was powerless to call it back.\n\n\"Inos is a good man and not prone to harsh or hasty judgment. I suspect that he is incapable of despising anyone...and that might well extend to Myrhia.\"\n\n\"Do you think that my actions in Amberdias were wrong?\" the Ulgak inquired as the wind stirred the hair from her brow.\n\n\"Right and wrong are fairly fluid concepts when it comes to times of war, Sygeanor. The consequences have obviously been disastrous, but if nothing else, I sympathize with your desire to act. We have learned much about Myrhia's invulnerability, even if that knowledge does little to inspire hope. Your decision was based on what seemed best under a particular set of circumstances. Every leader is faced with such decisions and I've never known a leader who did not err...occasionally. Artumas was perhaps the greatest ruler whom I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was an uncanny judge of situational dynamics and yet his one rare personal misjudgment has led the world to the brink of ruin.\"\n\n\"You speak of his marriage to Myrhia,\" she stated, watching as Kevlan and the two cavalrymen vanished into the interior of the abbey.\n\nMaroc nodded. \"In all fairness to Artumas, Myrhia was possessed of a beauty and charm that could beguile anyone. It was infectious and the leaders of every nation courted her favor before she revealed her true nature. Sygeanor, if I've learned anything in my time with the Jerhia authority and the years I've spent in proximity of true power, it is that we must never allow doubt to erode our ability to make critical decisions. Accept and understand the lessons of your failures, but never allow the thought of failure to paralyze you to inaction.\"\n\nRecalling Inos' advice to allow Maroc to tutor her on the art of leadership, Sygeanor merely nodded deferentially, though she privately doubted that she would ever accept the humiliation of failure so nonchalantly.\n\nJust then, Kevlan and the two Jerhia emerged from the maw of the abbey and signaled that it was safe for the expedition to come down.\n\nThirty minutes later, the party leaders stood inside the ruined antechamber where Islena Doraux had first roused the Dragonsword from its slumber. Maroc had assigned men to the task of building fires within the cavernous ruins, while others cleared away the frozen corpses that still littered the floor of the great hall.\n\n\"There is a substantial cache of food and a large quantity of firewood stored in the area below the church,\" Kevlan disclosed. \"Jackylwyn was a lunatic, but he was meticulously organized in his madness.\"\n\nKevlan then proceeded to describe the treacherous stone passage that led down to the base of the escarpment. \"It is a difficult descent for humans and a virtual impossibility for beasts.\"\n\nThe Jerhia cursed. \"How far to a manageable path to the floor?\"\n\n\"Perhaps a full day's journey,\" the Metocan answered. \"I feel compelled to warn you that this pass is only manageable if a Sherak has not struck within the last few days. If it has, the snows are apt to sit along the trail deeper than a tall man.\"\n\n\"Very well, tomorrow you and I will lead the horsemen north to the pass. If it is negotiable, we will descend to the east. If it is not, we shall re-evaluate our options then,\" Maroc decided, but privately he feared that the expedition may well have stumbled before it had even hit its stride.\n\n3\n\nSormias spared the Jerhia and the contentious Lamish woman one final glance as he flapped his massive wings and carried the unconscious Islena over the tree tops.\n\nHe was trailed by Lorio's keen shriek of abnegation as he flew north with the mortal woman in his arms. He suspected that the strange creature with the core of malice in her soul, might turn her rage upon the diminutive blond and that was truly regrettable. Still, the situation with Islena's poisoning had reached a critical juncture and Sormias decided that intervention must be his sole priority.\n\nTo have lingered would have meant becoming embroiled in time consuming arguments and possibly even a deadly confrontation with the Lamish woman. In Doraux's case, time was at a dearth and thus Sormias had acted accordingly and could now only hope that the end would justify the means. If not...the Golgar pushed this from his thoughts, knowing that this eventuality was simply too grim to contemplate.\n\nHe soared high into the heavens until the trees below appeared to be little more than swaying grass. From this lofty perspective, he was able to incline his head to the left and see the great western ocean, which stood across the horizon like an indescribably lovely field of shimmering green. Reluctantly, he veered off to the north-east, his massive wings pumping rapidly as he left the glorious spectacle far behind.\n\nSormias glanced down at Doraux, marveling at the beauty of her countenance in repose. On the other occasions they had met, her expression had been beset by epic worry, but as she slumbered fitfully, that burden of care had rolled away like a stone to reveal the full extent of her beauty. Sormias was bemused by the extent to which this affected him and hoped that he had not misjudged both her condition and her nature. If his perception of her affliction proved false, his attempt to pull her back from the precipice of madness would prove disastrous.\n\nThe Golgar was amazed by the sheer density of the woman's powerful body. Her mass seemed too great and her physical essence too substantial to be attributed to mere flesh and bone. He found himself becoming intoxicated with the sensation of bearing her body in his arms and wondered if this Islena Doraux influenced all men in a similar fashion.\n\nSormias flew for hours, indefatigable in the exigency of his purpose. Below him, the land of shades underwent a thousand transitions, each more fantastical than the last. Dropping down to study the land more closely, the Golgar beheld a huge tract of forest that stretched for leagues in every direction. Huge trees dominated the landscape, their thick trunks, as black as ebony, were gnarled and so grotesquely twisted as to appear frozen in a permanent posture of torture. Yet the Golgar knew that they would yield a delicate fruit of the most intoxicating sweetness.\n\nWhen finally the forest relented, the pair swept along the ascending slopes of a dazzling red mountain range. Pink quartz and jade caught the sun and set it ablaze in the afternoon sky, creating the illusion that they pair was flying through ever-shifting fields of pure energy in vary shades of red and green.\n\nSormias also knew that, couched beneath this deceptive spectacle of beauty, these mountains were inhabited by cannibalistic spirits who loved to feast on any form of tangible flesh they could find. Sormias shuddered to think what would befall anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves on foot in these isolated mountains with no way to take to the thermals.\n\nSormias followed a rapidly ascending slope and quickly passed into a mantle of clouds. In her daze, Islena shivered and drew closer to the Golgar for warmth, the crush of her full breasts against his chest causing him to shudder.\n\nHe again glanced briefly at the angelic beauty of her face and again wondered if he was courting disaster, but then he rose above the summit of jagged peaks and began to plummet down into the valley beyond. The panorama that opened before him was as glorious as it was improbable.\n\nThe great range of mountains formed a ring, at the center of which lay a great lake of molten lava. Driven by mechanics that Sormias could not fathom, the lake glared an impossible shade of gold and never cooled to form a volcanic crust. The constant heat that radiated from the anomalous lake had literally scorched the rock of the surrounding mountains, lending the stone a cancerous, blighted appearance.\n\nSormias came to ground near the summit of the mountain and gently lowered Doraux to the blasted rock, before turning his attention to the lake of lava. When his people had glided on the thermals of a much younger world, they had referred to this lake as the well of purification.\n\nIt was said that should a man be of rare and impeccable virtue, he could plunge into this mysterious lake and emerge unscathed by its molten fire. Upon first hearing this tale, Sormias recalled having been dubious and disdainful. Now, he found himself inclined to gamble the world's future upon what he had once dismissed as mythology.\n\nThe stature ascribed to Islena proclaimed her to be the fabled puritan of ancient mortal prophecy. The Golgar's prescience informed him that her true nature was couched deep in the fabric of her mortality...so deeply ingrained in fact, that even she was unaware of its existence beyond the parameters of her five senses. Confined within this mortal flesh there existed an immortal, timeless entity that the Golgar had come to suspect could never perish. If the legends had any credence, the golden lake should purge the spider's virulence from her system, thus restoring her to the indomitable force she had been before her fateful ascent of the great divide.\n\nSormias sighed as he peered out over the glare of the vast lake. _'I wager everything upon conjecture. In this lake's fiery embrace, Islena Doraux will find either immolation or extrication from the vice of madness.'_\n\n\"Sormias?\" a voice called tentatively, startling the Golgar out of his reverie. He spun around to find her regarding him warily, her green eyes wide and luminous in the intense glare of the summit.\n\n\"Islena,\" he murmured, not certain what to say. Her return to consciousness could only complicate matters. The situation was further exacerbated by her volatile mental state, which was precisely what it had been when he had first encountered the spirited creature in the shadow of his ruined tower.\n\n\"Where are we?\" she demanded, her tone suddenly truculent as she gazed about, shielding her eyes against the harsh glare of the molten lake. \"Where are the others?\"\n\nSormias gleaned the combative note in her voice and was surprised by just how acutely it lanced his heart. With this suddenly painful insight, the Golgar realized that he would willingly sacrifice his life for this magnificent creature. This cognizance only made what he intended to do all the more difficult. \"The others are safe, Islena...as least, they are safe as one can be in a place such as this.\"\n\n\"Where are we?\" she reiterated, her posture tightening to match her tone.\n\n\"Islena...it is critical that you listen carefully to what I'm about to tell you,\" Sormias began, deliberately forcing himself to meet those beguiling green eyes. \"The spider's virulence is running rampant in your system and though it can't destroy your physical body, it is steadily eroding your sanity...your spirit. This process has only accelerated since you surrendered the Dragonsword, thus losing its attenuating affect on the virulence. Unless something is done to purge it from your system, you will be reduced to raving madness and become a creature of malicious evil...possessed of a power that is too terrifying to contemplate.\"\n\n\"And just what is it that you are proposing to do to prevent this grim eventuality?\" Islena demanded suspiciously, her lips peeling back in a feral sneer that unsettled the Golgar.\n\nSormias cut his gaze to the lake of fire and Islena followed it, immediately discerning his purpose. A shrewish howl of negation tore from her lips. \"Lorio was right all along, you treacherous bastard!\"\n\nWith arms and feet pumping, Islena began to scramble up the vitrified slope, her eyes bulging with fury. Sormias hesitated and then raised his hands in a gesture of placation. \"Islena, this is a mystical place with fires that cleanse the spirit and exorcise demons.\"\n\nShe sprang abruptly to her feet. \"Never bastard...I'll kill you if you come near me...or you'll have to kill me.\"\n\nSormias need only glance at the intractable set of her jaw to see that she was being utterly sincere. \"Islena, please listen to reason, this poison inside of you is encroaching upon your sanity. It will not relent until you are hopelessly and irreversibly deranged. Should you succumb to that eventuality, with your fall goes the world's one slim hope for deliverance.\"\n\nAbruptly, Doraux spun about and sprinted up the steep incline, though the glassy surface made flight an onerous and potentially hazardous undertaking.\n\nSormias grimaced, but took to the air with a graceful flap of wings. He covered the distance between the pair quickly and scooping Doraux up beneath her armpits, attempted to pull her clear of the slope.\n\nIslena's reaction was swift and brutal. Twisting about in the Golgar's grasp, she slammed her forehead into Sormias' face. The force of the blow startled the winged creature and his grip upon her faltered, allowing her to slip from his grasp. She landed cleanly on the balls of her feet, but quickly moved to the offensive against the reeling Golgar. Locking her fingers around the base of his neck, Islena hoisted herself upward and drove the point of her knee into Sormias' face. Both tumbled to the slope with muffled grunts.\n\nIslena recovered first and scrambled onto the Golgar's back, locking him in a tight strangle hold, while encircling his midriff with her powerful legs and exerting a crushing pressure on his short ribs. Sormias was mortified by the woman's devastating strength and realized that she might actually succeed in harming him if he did not find a way to end her assault.\n\nWhile Sormias knew little of Doraux's physical capabilities, she in turn was totally ignorant of the Golgar's true nature. In the blink of an eye, he unleashed a carefully apportioned burst of energy that tossed Doraux from his back like a bale of dry straw.\n\nDoraux bellowed a hoarse exclamation of pain, but tenaciously leapt to her feet. Now Sormias could see that her eyes had become laced with snaps of ebony, which served as a harbinger of the venom's imminent ascendancy. \"Resorting to magic is the way of the craven,\" the thing snapped balefully. \"Come and fight me on even terms and I'll rip your traitorous heart out.\"\n\nThe emergence of Doraux's deadly alter-ego helped to strengthen Sormias' faltering resolve. He rose quickly to face her and before she could prepare to launch herself at the Golgar, he lanced her with twin shafts of amber light, which took her high in the chest. Immediately, her eyes rolled up in their sockets and she sagged to the vitrified rock in a boneless sprawl. Cautiously, Sormias came to stand over the fallen woman, who did not stir.\n\nGazing out over the lake of purification, he declared, \"I pray that I have not misjudged your purpose.\"\n\nGently lifting the unconscious woman into his arms, the Golgar rose into the air and carried her out over the lake, flying as low as he dared. Unlike Doraux, Sormias knew that he could never lay claim to the mantle of spiritual purity.\n\nAt the approximate center of the lake, Sormias released Doraux after hesitating to gaze on her lovely face one final time.\n\n\"Gods preserve you,\" he whispered as he watched her plummet into its molten embrace.\n\n4\n\nHer first impression was one of suffocating heat...a heat so intense that it would surely consume her flesh and bone. Yet, as inconceivable as the notion seemed, the heavy liquid that surrounded her appeared to grow hotter still. Panicking now, she opened her mouth to scream, but her cry was strangled by a flood of liquid fire. It flowed over her tongue and into her lungs and stomach in a burning rush.\n\nThrough this burgeoning fear, Doraux retained enough presence of mind to realize that something miraculous had transpired. She recalled that it had been Sormias who had consigned her to this fiery pool, the heat of which was so extreme that it should have reduced her to cinders in the blink of an eye.\n\nYet, her flesh remained unscathed and though her lungs were filled with superheated lava, she did not suffocate. The enormity of this revelation was so profound that it caused Islena's heart to palpitate wildly...though out of euphoria and not terror.\n\nDeep in the alleys and chambers of her mind, Islena could hear the other presence screaming with agonized negation. The sound aroused in her a savage glee that was atavistic in its intensity. Composing herself, she made no effort to find the surface, until the last of the harrowing cries abruptly ceased and that final spark of evil was extinguished.\n\nThen Doraux kicked with her powerful legs and burst forth from the lava with an echoing cry of jubilation.\n\nSormias hovered high above, tension gnawing at his viscera as he awaited the runes of fate to make their cast. When Doraux first exploded from the lava, Sormias rocketed down and grasping her extended arms, pulled her out of the lake and into his powerful embrace, swooping skyward before the heat could ignite his flesh. Then he quickly conveyed her to the summit of the nearest mountain, where he gently set her down on the slope and retreated a pace, waiting expectantly.\n\nShe stood there, gazing down upon her naked body as though seeing it for the first time, her eyes blazing with an exuberance born of pure joy. Her very survival was an emphatic affirmation of the epiphany that had visited her in the moments before she had suffered her moment of abjection in the island village. This experience had not only burned the poison from her system, it had banished any and all equivocation from her mind. She glanced to the Golgar, who stood transfixed by the delightful beauty of her exquisite body. Islena then realized that the tattered rags, that had passed for clothing, had been consumed by the lava, but found that she was unabashed by both her nudity and his heated gaze that it inspired.\n\n\"What am I, Sormias?\" she inquired in a voice that was rife with wonder and awe, her senses dappled by a myriad of new and astounding possibilities.\n\n\"I cannot give answer to that, Islena Doraux, because you are a creature whose nature lies beyond the limit of my sensibilities to define. I can say that you are an instrument of destiny...a woman born to bring light to this dying world,\" the Golgar declared softly, unable to draw his eyes from the majesty of her full breasts as they heaved in the afterglow of her experience in the lake of purification.\n\n\"Sormias, you were right,\" Islena exclaimed gleefully. \"The lake exorcised the corruption, but left me intact.\"\n\nHer mood sobered momentarily and she added, \"I apologize for attacking you...for calling you traitorous.\"\n\nGesturing toward the roiling lava, he remarked, \"It is only natural to be afraid in the face of something so terrifying...and to put your faith in something so utterly improbable. What's more, I suspect that your demons were less than delighted by the prospect of being dispossessed.\"\n\n\"I doubt that there is any way I can express my gratitude,\" Islena remarked seriously, still reveling in the sensation of having her mind and flesh made whole again.\n\n\"Perhaps there is a way,\" Sormias suggested, raising a speculative golden eyebrow as his gaze swept over the intoxicating topography of her body. There was a time when I'd said that I would request a measure of remuneration for the assistance I have imparted...\"\n\nDoraux watched the Golgar closely, rather surprised by his stiff formality when it seemed the situation was more suited to light-hearted exuberance. \"I remember,\" she replied a trifle warily. \"I take it you've found something you desire.\"\n\nSormias' smile became absolutely lustrous. \"Yes, indeed, I have!\"\n\nChapter Sixteen\n\n1\n\nIslena could scarcely credit her ears as the Golgar made his request and to be sure that she had not misheard, she echoed his apparent words, \"You want to make love to me?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Sormias replied resolutely, his grin relenting to an expression of solemnity. In his alien eyes, she discerned a gleam of something that startlingly resembled reverence and she found herself thunderstruck by the incredulity of the moment. On the lava charred slopes of this seemingly mystical volcano, she stood brazenly naked before a wondrous creature that seemed to regard her as something worthy of reverence.\n\nUnder other circumstances, the Golgar's request would have seemed both preposterous and offensive. Now, however, with the warm glow of triumph still upon her taut flesh and the strange heat radiating from Sormias' unblinking regard, Islena found herself frankly intrigued by the notion. There was a wanton, primitive aspect to the idea of granting carnal favor in return for acts of chivalry that somehow seemed perfectly tailored to this moment and place.\n\nSuddenly, she became acutely aware of her naked body. The swelling of her breasts and the turgid state of her nipples signified her inclination to accept the creature's request even before she spoke. In her chest, she could feel her heart begin to thunder in anticipation. Islena had always been a passionate, physical woman and her honed body had always craved intimacy and fulfillment. Terror and dejection had driven that need into a state of dormancy in the long months that she had been in this world. Only on the one occasion with Lorio had she succumbed to that passionate urge, though that encounter had come in response to pain and misery.\n\nNow, buoyed by her extrication from madness and evil, Islena knew that the heated awakening of her passion was not roused by the crippling need for surcease from pain, but from the healthy and natural desire to give and receive pleasure.\n\nHer voice held a tremulous edge as she intoned, \"You are a beautiful, magnificent creature, but...\"\n\nHer words trailed off and her fraught gaze drifted to his smooth, hairless torso. \"What you are proposing doesn't seem possible.\"\n\nHe followed her gaze and he uttered a hearty chuckle. \"If you are willing, I believe that I can provide the appropriate appendage.\"\n\n\"Why, Sormias? Why make this particular request?\" Doraux asked with an incisive expression set on her beautiful face. The Golgar's brow furrowed. \"The one quality I have always admired in mortals is their shared intimacy. The others of my race found such acts vulgar and crude...the primitive reproductive groping of what they perceived to be an inferior race. I, however, saw only beauty and poetry in the joining of the flesh...something that went far beyond the simple imperative to procreate. I have long yearned to share such passion and to evoke cries and whispers of pleasure in a woman...to taste her strength and essence. You are perhaps the most exquisite woman imaginable...the one of prophecy. I swear that my motivations are neither lewd nor base. Rather, this act is a way in which I may express my devotion to you and your purpose.\"\n\nHe stopped and though he appeared uncertain and sheepish, his gaze never left hers. Islena sensed his sincerity and found herself profoundly touched that such a magnificent and beautiful creature would hold her in such high esteem.\n\nThe steel fibers of her muscular thighs seemed to tremble as if they had suddenly turned to rubber and Islena heard herself offer, \"I will grant your request Sormias and I can assure you that both the honor and the desire is mutual.\"\n\nNow, the Golgar's smile became one of child-like delight...a delicate blend of curiosity and innocent hunger that dazzled Doraux.\n\n\"There is much about my nature that you may not understand Islena,\" the Golgar revealed. \"What stands before you is the Golgar's true and natural form, though we are not restricted to one state of being...in that regard, our physiology is...dynamic.\"\n\n\"You're talking about shape-shifting?\" Islena exclaimed only to be met by a confused expression of incomprehension. \"On my world, a shape-shifter is a mythical creature that is capable of changing forms at will.\"\n\n\"Mythical in your world perhaps, but here such things are most assuredly possible...as you will soon discover.\" He flashed his gorgeous smile and again Islena could feel her body respond lustfully to its beauty.\n\nThe Golgar folded his wings around his body, until it was all but obscured from Doraux's view. From behind this curtain, there issued a series of strident hisses that reminded Islena of the sound of a kettle rapidly coming to a boil.\n\nWithin moments, Islena found that she was confronted by the figure of a man whom she had never set eyes on before, but whom her sense insisted was eerily familiar. The sheer masculine splendor of the man banished all thoughts but the need building within her...a nearly overwhelming compulsion to consume him like a rare and heady delicacy.\n\nSlowly, her eyes traversed the arousing topography of his body...from his muscular shoulders and massive arms and chest and along his striated abdomen to his tiny waist. His face was angular and handsome and dominated by coal black hair and piercing dark brown eyes. There was an element of absolute maleness to the incarnation in to which Sormias had transmogrified...one that thrilled Doraux while evoking the impression that she had seen this man before.\n\n' _Why do I know that face?'_ she wondered.\n\nThe puzzle seemed within seconds of resolution when he asked coyly, \"Is this form pleasing and suitable?\"\n\nHer gaze was drawn to his manhood, which was certainly generous in length and thickness, and she willingly surrendered all control. Months of repressed passion burst forth like a dam as she strode over to where a clearly startled Sormias stood. Uttering a throaty growl, she encircled the Golgar's neck and drew him into a tight embrace, while her strong right hand closed firmly around his penis. Sormias gasped at the intensity of the sudden contact and Islena's answering laugh was rife with lust and amusement in equal measure.\n\n\"This could well be a dangerous indulgence for you Sormias,\" she intoned huskily, while covering his face, shoulders and chest with hungry kisses. \"This need can grow to become a ravenous addiction.\"\n\n\"A risk I am prepared to assume, good lady,\" he gasped, shocked by the sensations her mouth and hands were evoking. Never had he suspected that simple contact of flesh could be so intensely pleasurable and in this discovery, he grasped the intrinsic truth of her warning.\n\nEven more astounding was the way that his blood thundered through his veins and rushed to swell his manhood as her knowledgeable hands played their magic over its length.\n\nStaggering, he pulled slightly away from the beauty. \"Islena, there is a place that we must go...a place of indescribable splendor that was surely conceived by the Gods for just such a purpose. It is there that I wish to take you.\"\n\nShe drew him back against her, privately delighted as he shuddered in reaction to the press of her rigid nipples. \"Take me there quickly.\"\n\nThe heat of her powerful body and the breathless exigency of her entreaty compelled him to take to the air and soon they were soaring high above the lake of purification toward their own private requiem.\n\n2\n\nFor Islena, the scent and strength of Sormias' chiseled body, combined with the dizzying perspective and the ineffable thrill of soaring to such heights, bestowed a dream like quality to their journey. She nuzzled her face into his neck, kissing the tight flesh there and tracing the line of his jaw with the tip of her tongue. All through the flight, her hand never strayed from his manhood as she languidly stroked its length until it stood forth like a curving piece of statuary.\n\nSormias was driven to distraction as Islena stoked the fires of his nascent passion. Tremulously, he cautioned, \"Sweet lady, your distraction could cause us both to tumble from the heavens.\"\n\nHer grip on his penis tightened and she rasped, \"Then perhaps you should take me here and now while we hover. If we did tumble, it would be from the height of ecstasy.\"\n\n\"By the gods, there is a wanton devil in you, woman,\" Sormias stammered, only half in jest. \"Still, it is a devil with the sweetest disposition.\"\n\nIslena threw back her head and laughed, resuming her maddening ministrations.\n\nNot long after, the pair descended into a tiny clearing at the center of which lay a small lake of the deepest green of Islena's exquisite eyes. The lake was ringed by a beach of pristine white sand, which was delineated by a circle of grass that relented to stands of towering trees. Sormias had been correct...this was indeed a lovers' requiem, though she suspected that they would be the first to partake of its idyllic splendor.\n\nSormias landed, though his legs were unsteady from Islena's constant teasing and the pair tumbled to the sand in a sprawl of tangled limbs. Never shy or deferential in the matters of intimacy, Islena reached down and hauled Sormias into a kneeling position. Gazing into those deep brown eyes, she could sense the familiar ache building within her...an ache that must soon be satiated. She also gleaned an uncharacteristic shyness about the Golgar. \"You seem nervous, Sormias?\"\n\n\"Surprisingly, I find myself rather frightened,\" he admitted candidly. \"I've dreamed of this moment for an eternity. Now that it has arrived, I find myself daunted...wondering if I am adequate.\"\n\n\"More than adequate!\" Islena offered adamantly, lightly brushing his erection with the sole of her foot. She then placed both of her hands on his bulging shoulders and peered into his eyes. \"We're going to make love...not only for the pleasure of touch and its inherent comforts...we're going to come together in defiance of the darkness that looms over our lives.\"\n\n\"Again, I would have you pledge your fealty to me, Sormias,\" she demanded, her tone steel-edged and unflinching. He glanced up at the emerald-eyed beauty, mesmerized by the majestic thrust of her breasts. As he watched her, his wings folded inward, retracting into his body until the creature standing before her appeared entirely mortal and intoxicatingly masculine.\n\n\"In all things, good lady, I do vow that I will be faithfully yours from this day forth,\" he responded solemnly.\n\n\"Then show me!\" she growled fiercely and draped her right leg over his shoulder in a brazen invitation, while she cupped the back of his head and gently urged his face forward. He peered up at her and she smiled encouragingly. Islena arched her back and emitted a long moan of satisfaction as Sormias set about pleasing her with an ardor that left Doraux feeling giddy. Her body quivered and shook and as release came, Islena's cry resonated skyward as if to challenge the very heavens.\n\nAt last, as the surging waves of pleasure subsided, she moved to kneel before him and he looked upon her with unconcealed astonishment. His dark eyes shone with a profound joy and Doraux knew that this would be an easy man to love. \"Never had I imagined that one could bestow such pleasure with simple touch alone,\" he gushed effusively. \"By the gods, I could feel your body convey its pleasure in tiny reverberations...like the quaking of the earth.\"\n\n\"Now, you'll learn what it is like to be treated in kind,\" Doraux whispered and pushed the large man onto his back. His gaze never left her face as he watched her with wide-eyed anticipation and innocence. His ingenuous hunger reminded her that she was about to make love to the world's most beautiful virgin, thus bestowing a certain sense of ceremony to their coupling.\n\nAs Sormias lay supine upon the pristine white sand, Islena slowly circled him, moving around him with a leonine and languid grace. \"Close your eyes and lay utterly still,\" she instructed. \"Reduce your entire range of consciousness to the place where your flesh meets mine.\"\n\nObediently, Sormias complied. Islena knelt next to the Golgar and placed a series of delicate kisses on his neck and chest. She took special care to insure that no other part of her body touched his save her full lips so that the point of contact would be precise and the sensation of contact much more acute.\n\nEver so slowly, she lowered her right breast until the jutting, dusky pink nipple grazed his cheek. She began to sway in a slow, gentle rhythm so that her abundant breast traced the topography of his angular face.\n\n\"Part you lips ever so slightly,\" she whispered and cradling his head...drew his warm mouth to envelope her nipple. She could hear him moaning softly around her breast and was distantly aware of her own soft sighs.\n\nA part of her mind issued a strident protest over what it regarded as this wanton behavior, while reminding her of the husband and children whom she had left behind. She rejected these puritanical objections and thrust them from her mind. With her ascension from the lake of purification, Islena had attained a moment of crystalline insight similar to the one she had experience back on the island...this was now her world and her one true reality. Whatever she once might have been...wife or mother...were roles lived in another time and life...a life that could well be permanently lost to her. With her emergence from the darkness came the acceptance that it must be here...in this brutal and savage time and place...that she must attempt to survive.\n\nBen had been her husband and her lover, true, but that door to the past had been closed. His appetite had always been healthy and given the time that had passed, she had little doubt that he had found a lover to satiate those needs and take to his bed. Islena's sexuality had been one of the many aspects of her personality that was fraught with passion and power and she vowed that she would no longer suppress it.\n\nTenderly, she brushed her full breast over Sormias' entire body, stopping to allow her tongue to explore the deep striations of his abdomen. His curving manhood brushed against her iron thigh, its heat and hardness informing her that he was virtually bursting for the want of her. She moved down until his penis was nestled in the deep valley of her breasts and began to rock slowly back and forth.\n\nSormias uttered an inarticulate plea and raised his arms, but Islena firmly caught hold of his wrists and molded his powerful hands to her breasts, never once interrupting her maddening rhythm. After several moments of delicious torture in which the Golgar writhed and twisted, pleading for Islena to be merciful, she smiled wickedly and sensing that he could endure little more, moved down to take him into her mouth. The mouth was the ultimate purveyor of pleasure and Islena took the Golgar with relish, eliciting cry after body shaking cry from the creature that could never have imagined that such ecstasy was attainable from such a simple act.\n\nFinally, Sormias' body contracted into a tight knot of electric sensation...a harbinger of imminent release. Islena abruptly sat back and cried, \"Your seed for the Goddess, Sormias!\"\n\nSeizing his manhood, she directed his eruption onto the pristine sand and bellowed, \"A gift of life for the Goddess!\"\n\nThis act of tribute mystified Doraux, but then it occurred to her that it may have found its origins in the many shadowed souls who resided in her subconscious, just as she understood that this odyssey must inevitably draw her to a moment of apotheosis, where all veils and mysteries would dissolve in the harsh light of epiphany and revelation. With this ardent declaration of devotion...or righteous tribute...Islena reached the second stage of her ascension, accepting without equivocation, that she was more than a short-lived mortal. If nothing else, she was the living repository of a thousand resonating lives...lived through times and in places that she could scarcely conceive. _'Ah but before this road finds its end, they will open to you like a blossom turning its face to the summer sun. All will be laid plain, but in that disclosure, there will come an understanding that once obtained, can never be disavowed. Not all truths fortify the soul, Islena.'_\n\nIslena was thoroughly disconcerted to realize that it had been the voice of Myrhia that had delivered this rather cautionary prediction.\n\nSetting these confusing thoughts aside, Islena turned her full attention to her glorious creature beside her, drawing on her every trick of carnal sorcery to make his first experience a memory for the ages.\n\nStraddling his narrow hips, she absorbed him with excruciating slowness, pausing to bask in the sensation of fullness that taking him into her roused. Finally, she sat back and lifted her eyes and outstretched arms to the full moon, which beamed down upon them and cast their bodies in a thousand subtle shades of luminous silver. In her exalted state, it was easy to believe that the human aspect of the goddess, by turning her celestial light upon the pair, had sanctified their coupling.\n\nThey made love for hours then, communicating their delight in soft moans and murmurs that were lost in the soft stirring of the night breeze. Satiated, they finally nestled into each other's embrace near the water's edge and let sleep take them for the few remaining hours of darkness.\n\nIslena woke first, with the water lapping at her muscular thighs. The surrounding sky was a soft, calming blue...one that could reduce any woe to a mere triviality. For the first and only time since her ordeal had begun, Islena could honestly lay claim to a genuine sense of contentment. Lying naked beside Sormias, whose exquisite body had affected her like a balm, Doraux's solitary regret was that this moment would be fleeting and soon harsh reality would return to impose its unbearable demands upon her.\n\n\"But not just yet,\" she whispered fiercely.\n\nRaising herself on her right elbow, she studied the sleeping Golgar. How beautiful...how utterly masculine he was. The sight of him lying naked and sleeping roused a voracious hunger in her heart and loins. Never had she experienced such a powerful and compelling need for a man. They had made love for hours and still she craved more...disappointed when a thoroughly spent Sormias had pleaded for respite.\n\n\"But you've rested now my love,\" she sighed and began to lightly caress his inner thigh. His manhood lay dormant against his thigh and she gently grasped it between her thumb and forefinger and began to languidly stroke its length. Sormias stirred, but did not come awake. Islena smiled mischievously and closing her hand around his length, began to work him in earnest.\n\nWhen it had risen to its full majesty, Islena lithely straddled his hips and took him in one dramatic thrust of her hips. Sormias snapped awake with a guttural groan, his eyes wide with shock which quickly gave way to unfettered delight when he became cognizant of the circumstances under which he had come awake.\n\n\"By the gods, woman, you will be the death of me!\" he exclaimed in feigned consternation, but began to move his hips in perfect syncopation with hers.\n\n\"By the Goddess, what a death it would be,\" she rejoined tartly. \"I promised to make love to you in payment for all that you have done and I will not release you until I've rendered payment in full. Is this arrangement not to your liking, Sormias?\" she teased, her tone stern and challenging.\n\n\"Perfectly to my liking, good lady,\" he answered seriously.\n\nDoraux laughed and pressed herself against him. \"A prudent choice.\"\n\nAfter they finished making slow and languorous love, they bathed in the small lake, both remained silent, simply content to bask in the others presence. As they prepared to depart, Sormias reverted to his true form, striking a sharp chord of pain in Islena's heart. Discerning the source and nature of the pained expression that clouded her brow, Sormias kissed Islena's forehead and promised, \"Do not fret Islena...he will be there when you have need of him.\"\n\nShe smiled and he lifted her into his arms, carrying her back to the harsh realities that awaited her...realities that were rapidly unfolding around her, even as she struggled to temporarily banish them from her mind.\n\n3\n\nA diffuse golden sunlight radiated down through the miraculous ice crystal that spanned across the ring of mountains...an anomaly that had made the natural living wonder of Iythyx possible.\n\nBelow this light-refracting wonder dwelt the refugees of the once great nation of Jerhia...the formidable military power that had been vanquished with relative ease by Myrhia's juggernaut. Those who had survived the horrific exodus through the cruel mountainous wastes of western Jerhia had been rewarded with the discovery of the mythical paradise which existed in direct contravention of every governing law of nature. Yet, exist it did and it was almost possible for the vanquished Jerhia to forget the humiliating defeat that had decimated their population and drove them to this sanctuary.\n\nAlmost possible, but the pragmatic Jerhia were incapable, by their very nature, of such self-delusion.\n\nIt would be centuries before they could cleanse away the sour taste of humiliating defeat. Nor could they conveniently forget the thousands of Jerhia who had followed Maroc to the north with the intention of continuing the struggle against the dark tide of evil that had inundated much of the face of the world over the last seven years.\n\nDespite mourning for a lost legacy of greatness or concern for embattled comrades, it was virtually impossible not to succumb to the allure of this idyllic paradise. Maroc had decreed that those who remained here would be diligent in insuring that their presence did nothing to sully the natural majesty of this improbable sanctuary and that edict had been followed with unwavering devotion.\n\nA traveler, new to the world and happening upon this hidden requiem if Iythyx might well have concluded that he had happened upon the Natzurdan...so assiduous were the Jerhia in their efforts to preserve this enclave. Tier Marshall Damosta had been entrusted with the goal of governing the Jerhia in exile.\n\nWhen Damosta had received Maroc's dispatch detailing the diversion of the Hiberas, he had immediately ordered the entrance to the enclave be sealed. An army of Jerhia had labored for three days to pile hundreds of tons of stone into the narrow corridor that served as the only known point of ingress into the subterranean wonder. The Tier Marshall reasoned that squalls and gusting winds would soon conceal this sealed entrance beneath several feet of snow.\n\nThis done, Damosta felt confident that his people would be relatively secure, irrespective of the possible repercussions of diverting the Hiberas. A meticulous and efficient leader with a natural sense of environment, the Jerhia had then turned his attention to the task of reconciling thousands of new residents with the natural environment with the intention of not upsetting the delicate balance that had been struck to achieve this miracle.\n\nTo this end, the Tier Marshall devised a plan to efficiently dispose of the bodily wastes of thousands of human inhabitants. Damosta was astute enough to grasp that any significant rise in the caverns temperature could have a negative and potentially disastrous impact on the ice crystal that gave this wonder its very life.\n\nIn the time since the Jerhia had occupied Iythyx, small teams of explorers had essentially mapped the entire canyon and discovered that several underground rivers ran through the dense foliage. Each of these was home to a bounty of fish that would sustain the refugees for years to come if the need arose. Damosta set definite limits on the number of fish that could be drawn from the rivers with an eye on long term sustainability.\n\nMoreover, the cavern's trees yielded a plentitude of fruit to supplement the diet of fish. Indeed, Iythyx proved to be the veritable paradise that it had long been reputed to be.\n\nYet, above all of these measures, Domasta's most consequential was his decision to dispatch a party to explore the other cavern adjacent to the main domed wonder. Unlike crystal bejeweled Iythyx, these caverns were dark, frigid and essentially uninhabitable...composed mostly of barren limestone and basalt.\n\nJerhia scavenged these caverns in search of small seams in the rock that might lead to the surface in the event of a catastrophe. During their weeks of arduous searching, they uncovered seven small, vertical shafts that led to the surface. All of these would allow a single passage exit only, but the Tier Marshall was satisfied that they would suffice in the event of emergency. As unfolding events would soon demonstrate, his foresight would prove to be the deliverance of the Jerhia people.\n\n4\n\nWhen it finally came, disaster struck with an alacrity that was both bewildering and lethal. The massive, yet delicate ice crystal...which had spanned the towering ring of mountains since the world was in its infancy... suddenly exploded with a sonorous groan that reverberated through the cavern like the loss of hope.\n\nEvery eye in Iythyx turned skyward in time to witness the disintegration and fall of thousands of tons of ice. This avalanche leveled the most verdant portion of the natural paradise, while crushing hundreds of transfixed Jerhia in the process. Those not immediately crushed by the avalanche gaping up in horror to see a solitary figure hovering in the air, high above the cavern floor.\n\nDamosta had survived the initial collapse of the covering crystal and he immediately deduced the identity of this harbinger of destruction. His adjutants had gathered, dazed and reeling, around their superior and he immediately instructed them to gather the survivors and lead them into the adjacent dark caverns and the escape ways to the surface.\n\n\"What of the wounded?\" on of the adjutants had inquired.\n\nDamosta had fixed the young Jerhia with a cold, dispassionate gaze and commanded, \"We leave them where they've fallen.\"\n\nNot a single objection was raised to this awful decree of cold pragmatism, but the younger Jerhia set about their assigned tasks with leaden hearts.\n\nDamosta gazed up and his upper mandible dropped in utter astonishment as the floating figure had suddenly expanded in size, until Myrhia's exquisite countenance appeared to fill the entire opening into the great subterranean cavern.\n\n\"Rather unsettling, isn't it?\" Myrhia declared in a mirthful, melodious voice. \"How utterly puny and vulnerable you must feel in the face of such efficacy and to think that your feeble nation once sought to oppose me. Only now are you beginning to grasp the suicidal enormity of that particular misjudgment. Like the Jerhia nation, Iythyx is a fragile fool's dream that I have obliterated. I fully intend to go on disabusing this world of its petty delusions...until every last one of you ilk dwells in dark caverns like rodents.\"\n\nShe inclined her head slightly and the throaty sound of her rich laughter shook the surrounding mountains, dislodging rock from the steep slopes. Like a deity, she pronounced, \"By the Goddess, how I adore the dark drama I have wrought!\"\n\nIn the blink of an eye, her image evaporated.\n\nDamosta peered up at the opening through which frigid air and falling snow had already begun to swirl and in a moment of consuming dejection, the Tier Marshall understood that his people's long and storied history had entered its last catastrophic stage of despair and decay.\n\nChapter Seventeen\n\n1\n\n\"Summon Kevlan.\" Maroc grimaced and gestured for an adjutant to summon the placid Metocan, flicking a brief, sour glance at Sygeanor which the Ulgak did not notice. Her attention was riveted on the small stone abbey that sat nestled in the shelter of a deep ravine.\n\nIt had been seven days since the party had first crossed the causeway between Metocan and the Blighted Lands and five days since the horrendous ordeal on the bluffs, near Runesholm Abbey. Moving the hulking supply carts down the icy precipice had proven to be an excruciatingly slow and dangerous process...exacerbated by the howling winds and blowing snow that had all but eliminated visibility.\n\nWhen frozen hands could no longer manipulate the guide ropes, one of the heavy carts had went trundling down the nearly vertical seventy food face, instantly killing ten expedition members, who had been helping guide the cart to the ground.\n\nMaroc had been appalled, but Sygeanor had accepted the needless, tragic deaths as though they were nothing more than incidental and inconvenient. Coldly, she had declared, \"The world has become a domain of death, Maroc. Of all people, this should be most apparent to you. I can assure you that, before we emerge into the light, there will be a great many more lives sacrificed in the name of the great and glorious cause of vanquishing Myrhia.\"\n\nMaroc had merely nodded at this obdurate soliloquy, but the remarked had left him with a festering sense of disquiet. For one with Sygeanor's power to be so callous did not bode well for the future. Now, as he lay in the powdery snow, gazing down at the small abbey, which was still and eerily silent in the murky twilight, the Jerhia was again visited by this mounting unease over the glacial nature of his Ulgak companion.\n\nKevlan crawled silently up beside the pair and the trio remained on their stomachs in the cold snow, peering down from the crest of the slope, trying to assess whether this structure was occupied or had been left to molder in the wastelands.\n\n\"Do you know of this abbey?\" Sygeanor demanded, her gray, limpid eyes shining from the concealing depths of her deep hood. Kevlan glanced briefly at Maroc, clearly disconcerted by the Ulgak's surly, imperious tone. The Jerhia merely shrugged and nodded, attributing her curt manner to the changes that seemed to have overcome the young woman in the first days of the expedition.\n\n\"This abbey is known as Dornsark,\" the Metocan disclosed mildly. \"These monks are an impoverished and essentially harmless sect, who fell out of favor with the High Queen and sought sanctuary here. They pose little threat to anyone and despite their rather eccentric beliefs this order's one real desire is to be left alone to worship as they would.\"\n\nSygeanor shifted her gaze to Kevlan, her thin lips twisted in disdain. \"I'm afraid this is a luxury that we can't afford to grant them. Now, how many inhabitants would this abbey hold?\"\n\n\"Perhaps a hundred to a hundred and fifty,\" the Metocan replied, his agitation growing perceptibly. \"The numbers shift. At any rate, the Ranters of Runesholm certainly held no commerce with Dornsark.\"\n\n\"Then there is little to be gained by making contact with the abbey occupants,\" Maroc declared quickly, perhaps sensing the unnerving direction of Sygeanor's thoughts. \"Despite the darkness, I'll prepare the members for a march to circumvent the abbey.\" He had already started to push himself away from the crest, when a firm hand restrained his right wrist. He found himself gazing directly into Sygeanor's eyes, which were terrifying in their intensity.\n\n\"They are already aware of my presence,\" she informed him quietly.\n\nHe shifted his regard to the abbey, whose lightless windows reminded him of lifeless, vacant eyes, and then back to the Ulgak. \"How could you possibly know that? If anything, this abbey appears deserted.\"\n\n\"You would question my prescience?\" she demanded crossly and the Jerhia sighed.\n\n\"No Sygeanor...I'm merely suggesting that it doesn't seem likely that they are aware of our presence.\" Maroc was a patient man by nature, but dealing with the volatile and often curt Sygeanor was grating on that patience.\n\n\"And I am telling you that you are wrong,\" she snapped angrily while Kevlan looked on with increasing discomfort. Maktir had climbed the slope to determine the source of the delay. Even by his normal dour standard, the Natzurdan was in a grim frame of mind. His irritation hung about him like a dark corona.\n\n\"The damnable cold makes these long delays insufferable,\" he complained. \"If we are going to stop for extended lengths of time, at least allow us to erect shelters.\"\n\n\"We will not be stopping,\" Maroc began, but the Ulgak immediately contradicted the Tier Marshall.\n\n\"We will most certainly be stopping, but there will be no need to erect shelters because we will be lodging in this abbey.\"\n\nMaktir glanced down at the squat stone structure and something that might have been a smile flickered fleetingly across his flat features. Sparing a brief, almost contemptuous glance at Maroc, he turned and trundled off down the slope.\n\nMaroc turned to Sygeanor, fighting valiantly to control his temper and frustration. \"Sygeanor, we must skirt this abbey. Any slim chance this venture has of actually succeeding is predicated solely on passing, undetected, through the Blighted Lands. If we make contact with the monks, we jeopardize our chances.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you fail to realize, Maroc that I am this entire expedition...if the truth be plainly stated,\" Sygeanor rasped. \"While we're being totally candid, I might point out that your role of leadership is nominal and was given to assuage your country's fragile ego. From this moment forth, I will dispense with hollow courtesy. I alone can destroy the Redian mines and I alone should have direction over the expedition. Do you agree?\"\n\nShe regarded him truculently...an intractable light burning in her gray eyes. Maroc desperately wanted to overrule her attempted grab for direction of the expedition, but beneath his wounded sense of pride and honor, the Jerhia discerned the truth of her tactless assessment of the situation. If she became uncooperative, this expedition was basically dead in the water...or the barren wastes as the case may be.\n\n\"Very well, what would you have me do?\" Maroc inquired tightly.\n\nThe Ulgak offered the Tier Marshall a decidedly condescending grin. \"I knew that you would see reason. As to what I require of you...your men are warriors. Like warriors, I expect them to capture and secure this abbey.\"\n\n2\n\nBen Richards sat behind his new teak veneer executive desk, just one of the many luxurious trappings that had accompanied his new position as junior partner in this architectural firm. Despite his best efforts to concentrate on the work at hand, he saw his gaze being repeatedly drawn to the dormant telephone near the corner of his desk, as if it exerted some magnetic attraction over his conscious thoughts.\n\nIt had been three days since the episode at the restaurant and in that time, he had neither seen nor spoken to Myrhia. Naturally, Richards had been beleaguered by the growing certainty that something was about to go drastically awry with this improbable fantasy life that had emerged from the ashes of Islena's disappearance...if it already had not.\n\nThese nagging uncertainties were greatly aggravated by Myrhia's continuing absence. The more he reflected upon her behavior of that dreadful evening three nights earlier, the more Richards realized that her explanation had been facile...and completely false. Her rage had been a towering, monumental thing and though she had never demonstrated any inclination toward violence before, Ben found the force of her anger unsettling. Thinking back upon the episode, it seemed that her boiling anger had been centered upon something...or someone very specific...as though an invisible force had assailed her as they had dined that night.\n\nThat was ludicrous of course...utterly laughable once he really stopped to consider the matter, but still he could not divest himself of the belief that it was, nonetheless, true.\n\nAnd what implications did all of this dreary contemplation hold? Richards could not say specifically, but he could not deny the sense of overwhelming dread that this line of reason roused in his racing heart.\n\nBen caught himself in the unconscious act of reaching for the telephone and reluctantly drew his hand back. Myrhia had been adamant in her insistence that he never, under any circumstances, contact her at work. At the time of this edict, her rationale seemed valid enough. She had been the chief investigator in his wife's disappearance and it would be unseemly for the victim's husband to display a non-professional interest in a federal agent. The stigma could well ruin Myrhia's career. Richards had respected her wish unwaveringly, but as time passed, the concept seemed less valid.\n\nIt had been nearly ten months since Islena's disappearance and the official investigation had been closed a long time ago. They were adults after all and thus entitled to pursue whatever relationships they wished without fear of repercussions.\n\n\"Right!\" Ben muttered sardonically to the emptiness of his office. His liberal-minded approach might not sit so well with the conservative bureau...or more importantly, with Myrhia, herself.\n\nHe dropped his hand to the glass blotter and groaned and then buried his face in his hands.\n\nThe notion that something was drastically wrong was inescapable. The nagging voice would not relent, stubbornly insisting that he was dancing sanguinely to the edge of the abyss.\n\nThis was precisely how he had lost Islena, though on that dark occasion, he had possessed no intimation that catastrophe was waiting just around the rim of time. Instinct was cautioning him that Myrhia was shrouded in an abstruse danger and he would not sit idly by while she slipped away from him as well.\n\nHe also understood that he was incapable of surviving another loss of this magnitude.\n\nWithdrawing a calling card from the leather billfold that Myrhia had given him on his birthday, Ben set about trying to locate the woman he had grown to love.\n\n3\n\nTwo hours and twenty minutes and several hundred dollars worth of long distance phone calls later, that vague dread had solidified into a deep, atavistic fear. It sat perched upon his heart like a block of ice.\n\nAs he hung the receiver back on his cradle, glancing at the telephone as if it was the source of his present consternation.\n\nJust prior to her leaving, Myrhia had informed him that she would be checking into a Los Angeles Neurological clinic for an extensive battery of tests. She expected that these tests would take the greater part of a week to complete. She had disclosed neither the name of the clinic, nor a number where she might be reached in Los Angeles. Even then, he had been rather baffled by her mystifying secretiveness, which bordered on the obsessive, yet a force which he simply could not comprehend, had prevented him from voicing his objections.\n\nIn the past two hours, he had placed a call to every neurological clinic and institution in Los Angeles, none of whom listed a patient under the name of Myrhia La Fey. Expanding the area of his search to the greater Los Angeles area had yielded precisely the same result.\n\nMyrhia had not registered at a clinic in the Los Angeles area...at least, no under her own name.\n\nThis one simple discovery opened the door on a plethora of possibilities and explanations, each one more bewildering and ominous than the last. It was possible that she may have checked into a clinic under an assumed name, but even that was not without its disturbing explanations. Why would she go to such extravagant lengths to protect her privacy?\n\n\"There's probably a damned simple explanation for all this,\" he muttered, his voice resonating alien and weak in the empty silence of his office. In response to this wistful bit of rationalization, his mind posed a devastatingly frank question of its own. _'What do you really know about this woman, Ben? All illusory wrapping torn off and cast aside, what do you really know about Myrhia La Fey?'_\n\nThe question evoked a sharp grimace from Richards. Gazing down at the smoked glass of his desk blotter, he was confronted by the beset image of a man who had just awoken from a trance...disoriented and shaken by the things which he suspected he might have done. Totally beguiled by Myrhia, Richards had somehow remained oblivious to the fact that he knew virtually nothing of the woman's background. In fact, Myrhia was a veritable hieroglyph, enshrouded in mystery.\n\nHe knew only that she came from back east, but that obscure geographical reference was meaningless when you considered that she now lived on the west coast. About her parents and family, Richards knew absolutely nothing. Astounding as it was, she had never shared a single detail of her childhood with Ben. In a staggering burst of revelation, it occurred to him that Myrhia was a virtual stranger in all but the physical context of the word.\n\nRichards shuddered and clamped his hands down on the edges of his desk. A remarkably vivid image of Islena's lovely face resolved itself in his mind. Her exquisite green eyes were baleful and fraught with reproach that he gleaned was directed squarely upon him. A scream of negation welled up in the pit of his guts and he managed to repress it, though only by biting down on his tongue hard enough to fill his mouth with the salty taste of his own blood. His forehead was suddenly slick with the oily perspiration and he allowed his head to settle to the glass blotter...the cool surface helping to quell his roiling anxiety if only a marginally.\n\nIt was imperative that he maintain his composure. He had allowed himself to sink into a morass of self-pity after his wife's disappearance. It was crucial that he not blunder into the same destructive pattern of behavior again. Struggling to anchor his equilibrium to the need for decisive action, he raised his head and drew an unsteady breath.\n\nSomehow, he had failed Islena, though the exact nature of that failure remained an abstraction. In the case of Myrhia, Richards had no way of knowing if the diminutive beauty was in some manner of danger herself. The only way that he could solve that particular riddle was to locate the lady.\n\nHis first priority had to be finding Myrhia. Only then could he extract the answers to the myriad of questions that were swarming in his mind...each bloated with rancor and venom.\n\nDrawing out his telephone directory, Richards hunted down the listing for the Seattle office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and quickly punched in the number before he could succumb to his reservations.\n\nAs he waited for the connection to be made, it occurred to Ben that he was embarking upon a path from which there could be no return...no strategic retreat into the blissful contentment of the past months. A sacred covenant of trust was about to be violated between the pair, for which both must share the burden of blame. If Myrhia was to learn of what he had done today and if her explanation for this secrecy proved to be mundane, she would still see his actions as an unpardonable breach of trust. For his part, Richards would never be able to look at Myrhia without being assailed by doubt and suspicion...the two ancient despoilers of love.\n\nA smooth, professional voice greeted his call and for several seconds, Ben simply couldn't speak. His throat felt as if it had constricted to the size of a pinhole.\n\n' _You don't want to know, Ben,'_ a tiny voice admonished gravely. _'You really don't want to know what an absolute imbecile you've been these last months...what a gullible fool.'_\n\nBen felt the compulsion to hang up come upon him like a maddening itch and he managed to subdue it only by conjuring an image of Islena's reproachful eyes.\n\nThe receptionist posed the standard question again, though this time Richards could discern a note of wariness creep into her professional tone. His mouth seemed impossibly dry, while his tongue seemed swollen and had welded itself to the roof of his mouth.\n\n\"I'm...I'm sorry,\" he stammered at last. \"I was momentarily distracted. I was hoping to speak to one of your agents.\"\n\nHis voice abruptly trailed off to nothing. After a slight hesitation, the receptionist prompted, \"Would you care to speak to a specific agent, sir?\"\n\n\"Ah yes, I'd like to speak to agent La Fey,\" Ben finally blurted, his sense of relief intermingling with sinking despair.\n\n\"Agent La Fey?\" the receptionist echoed with a quizzical note clearly discernible in her tone.\n\n' _Hang up Ben...you have to know where this is leading,'_ the tiny voice brayed in his mind again and a part of him desperately wanted to heed that strident admonition and turn a blind eye to the false set of circumstances that had governed his life over the past several months. And then there was the matter of the boys, who had come to accept Myrhia as a maternal figure, whom they could love in Islena's stead. How bitter would their disillusionment be should Myrhia be exposed as something sinister? All of these things flashed through his mind in the span of a heartbeat and as prudent as the advice might have been, he gleaned that it was prudence motivated by craven denial...something of which he had guilty far too often in his life.\n\n\"La Fey...Myrhia La Fey.\"\n\nIn the instant before the receptionist responded, Richards' heightened sense of awareness detected the minute whir of machinery cycling into life...so faint as to be barely audible. In his mind, he could picture the receptionist activating the recording system that the Bureau would surely have in place. From this instant forth, everything he said would be recorded for future analysis. This, in itself, confirmed his worst fears, even before the voice on the opposite end of the line articulated his worst nightmare.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, but we don't have a federal agent by that name assigned to the Seattle branch.\"\n\n\"Oh...I must have been mistaken then,\" Richards fumbled, barely able to contain the urge to smash the receiver into a thousand shards. \"Might I speak to Marius Lockland then?\"\n\nA stony silence filled the airwaves then and Ben felt his disquiet grow exponentially. After a moment, the receptionist informed him flatly, \"Inspector Lockland passed away...\"\n\nBefore Richards was cognizant of his intention, he slammed the receiver down onto the cradle and sat shaking violently in the stillness of his lavish office. A groan of tortured entreaty escaped his lips and he groaned, \"Sweet Jesus, Islena...what have I done?\"\n\n4\n\nMaroc deployed his cavalry elements around the crest of the snow-draped hills that surrounded the isolated abbey. With their customary skill and efficiency, the Jerhia silently took up their positions and waited for their signal to descend on the forlorn looking stone structure. This deployment was unusual for the cavalry, which normally preferred to attack in staggered ranks, but the object here was one of total containment and so they were arrayed in a concentric circle.\n\nAs the mounted elements awaited the signal to commence, their horses' breath raised heavy white plumes in the frigid dusk air.\n\nMaroc watched from his position, cognizant of Sygeanor's glacial presence just over his left shoulder. There was an inherent wrongness to what he was about to undertake...one that violated the stringent Jerhia code of honor. A nocturnal attack upon an unarmed settlement was the mainstay of cravens and tyrants. To Maroc's mind, this was precisely the sort of action that his people were so tenaciously struggling to oppose.\n\nGleaning his hesitation, Sygeanor inquired curtly, \"Is there a specific problem, Tier Marshall?\"\n\nThe Tier Marshall frowned, his mind drawing the unpleasant association between Sygeanor and Myrhia. As he lit the signal torch, Maroc was not particularly surprised to find that his hands were trembling. The light erupted, hanging suspended in the night sky like an argent star. In response, the mounted cavalry issued the standard war cry, giving praise and thanks to the Jerhia god of war as they charged down the snowy decline. In the next instant, they were onto flat ground and racing toward the darkened abbey, bolstered by elements of Tormal's Emercian cavalry...three hundred heavily armed warriors pouncing on a community of unarmed monks. Maroc grimaced in distaste at the entire abhorrent spectacle, believing that he would never have seen the day when he would dispatch troops against people whose only transgression was to subscribe to divergent religious beliefs. The moment imparted a keen and disturbing insight into the nature of evil and duty. Whereas once he had condemned the Emercians for their mindless adherence to Myrhia's iniquitous edicts, now he saw what a simple matter it would be to fall into the role of hooligan, given the wrong leadership.\n\nWatching the thunderous charge of the cavalry as it converged upon the abbey, Maroc vowed on his life that this deplorable scene would never be repeated.\n\nAs the ring of mounted soldiers reached the bottom of the hill and began to pound across the courtyard toward the shabby stone keep, Jerhia foot soldiers charged down the slope in close support.\n\nThe timing and execution of the assault was impeccable, but Maroc derived no pleasure from his troops' performance. Circumstances would quickly reveal that the scope of power brought to bear against the abbey was absurdly extravagant as those within had neither the means nor the inclination to provide any form of opposition to the expedition.\n\nSygeanor had proven correct in her assertion that the abbey's inhabitants had been aware of their presence. A pacifistic order, the monks were constantly vigilant for the many predators who roamed the Blighted Lands in search of easy quarry.\n\nThey had marked the expedition's approach, but had no means of determining their identity of intention. Upon seeing the size and disposition of the approaching force, the Abbot had surmised that they were members of the evil queen's marauding army that had been scouring the Blighted Lands in search of the woman of false prophecy.\n\nWhen it became apparent that the intruders had no intention of bypassing the abbey, the abbot had ordered all candles and fires doused in that hopes that, seeing no signs of habitation, the marauders would simply move on. Now, as he gazed through a small spy hole in the crude stone gullet that passed as a belfry, the abbot realized that his humble order would not be so fortunate on this occasion.\n\nFetching a wheezing sigh that rattled the tightly packed phlegm in his congested lungs, the abbot turned to his anxious monks and announced, \"We have no alternative but to acknowledge their presence. Perhaps, when they see that we are truly impoverished, they will leave us alone.\"\n\nThis scant hope did little to placate the monks' anxiety, but they quickly moved to comply with the abbot's instruction. The cavalry had taken up their positions, completely surrounding the abbey, with their lances at the ready in the unlikely event that the monks would sortie forth and challenge the horsemen. The adjutant glanced nervously back over his shoulder, seeking instruction from the Tier Marshall. Like the others, he regarded this exercise with no small degree of distaste and perplexity. Maroc raised his torch and the adjutant dismounted his horse and approached the two arched wooden doors that served as the main entrance into the stone structure. As the Jerhia mounted the icy steps, the crude doors swung open and a portly man in a threadbare, dun-colored robe and frayed boots of some soft material, peered out into the frigid night, squinting owlishly.\n\n\"It's foul weather to be about on such a night, good soldier,\" the Abbot of Dornsark observed amiably. \"May I ask what has brought you to the door of my humble abbey?\"\n\n\"We seek food and shelter,\" the adjutant replied in a tone sharper than intended.\n\nThe abbot blinked, a pained expression rippling across his fleshy face. \"The shelter we will gladly share, but unfortunately our food supply allows little for the generosity of sharing. As you can imagine, food is in scarce supply here in the Blighted Lands.\"\n\n\"We will be the judge of that,\" a voice issued from the darkness, its frigid tone matching the inimical conditions of the harsh night. All heads turned as Sygeanor approached. As she descended the slope, with Maroc and Kevlan in tow, she pushed the hood back from her broad face and the gusting wind lifted her hair from her brow. Her dark eyes appeared luminous in the darkness, instilling a deep terror in the abbot.\n\n\"Milady,\" he began, executing a graceless bow. \"We pose no threat to the High Queen...we are her humble subjects,\" he pleaded, still believing that these soldiers were part of the High Queen's Imperial Army.\n\n\"We are not!\" Sygeanor rasped with a voice as harsh and grating as gravel over stone. \"If you are the queen's humble servant, then you are my avowed enemy.\"\n\nThe abbot's watery brown eyes widened in comprehension and he immediately fell to his knees before the Ulgak. \"Milady, please, we desire only to exist in solitude and peace. We lack the means to give any form of opposition to the dark queen and so we are left with little recourse but to dwell in her shadows and mouth the platitudes that she requires of us.\"\n\n\"Stand upright, you groveling swine,\" Sygeanor snapped, causing the abbot to flinch while startling the Jerhia Tier Marshall, who was unaccustomed to flagrant displays of discourtesy. All around the Ulgak, horses stirred and whinnied. The abbot leapt to his feet as though jerked up like a marionette, where he stood regarding his infidel tormentor with naked dread.\n\n\"You will instruct your followers to assemble here at once and then you will escort the adjutant as he searches the abbey. You will guide him through every passage and antechamber, leaving no stone unturned. Make an attempt to omit or conceal anything and I will know.\" She ventured closer, until her eyes were only inches from his. \"Do you believe me, Abbot?\"\n\nHe needed only a brief glimpse of the efficacy in those lustrous gray eyes to know that her claims were truthful. With a satisfied grin, Sygeanor turned to the adjutant and gestured for him to accompany the terrified man into the abbey. The Jerhia hesitated briefly, glancing toward his superior, who instructed him to comply with a slight nod.\n\nThe adjutant then followed the wooden-legged abbot into the gloomy stone requiem. As they waited for the Jerhia to complete his inspection, Sygeanor and Maroc watched the four score of monks file out into the bitterly cold darkness. In the heavens above, the clouds had begun to roil and churn in a manner that signified the impending onset of a Sherak. The monks assembled in a ragged line...a forlorn collection of men who had been driven to this wretched place by intolerance, only to find themselves confronted by something far worse.\n\nSygeanor surveyed the group with an expression of utter disdain, deciding their fate in the beat of a heart without the slightest tremor of remorse. Abruptly, she dismissed them from her thoughts and turned to Maroc, who was regarding her with a plaintive expression set on his handsome, angular face.\n\n' _Let him brood,'_ the Ulgak thought indifferently. _'This endeavor is mine and the time is past due when he comes to grasp our respective roles in the coming events.'_\n\n\"What provisions we procure here will carry us that much further east,\" she remarked as though cold pragmatism could justify any measure.\n\nMaroc leaned closed and intoned softly, \"Do you mean to leave them with no food?\" Her glacial regard provided her answer and the Tier Marshall snorted in disgust. \"This entire action is reprehensible. To take what few provisions these monks have is to condemn them to a slow, agonizing death by starvation.\"\n\nAbruptly, mild Kevlan took up the thread of Maroc's argument, his normally placid face unusually animated. \"These people have done nothing to warrant this barbaric treatment. Irrespective of our cause, we have no right to prey upon the weak and defenseless of the Blighted Lands as though they are somehow deserving of our disdain and abuse.\" Turning to Maroc the Metocan demanded, \"Tier Marshall, it is your moral duty...your obligation...to intervene and put an end to this madness.\"\n\nMaroc glanced miserably at the Metocan, feeling his desperate entreaty fall upon his soul like the sting of a lash. To his astonishment, Sygeanor shrugged her shoulders and announced, \"Very well then, if my noble Metocan cousin believes that it would be an act of atrocious cruelty to take the abbey's provisions and allow the monks to starve, then we shall not. Still, he might reflect upon the cost of maintaining his delicate sensibilities.\"\n\nThen she turned away, leaving the two men to exchange quizzical glances. Sygeanor's hasty capitulation was not at all in keeping with her intractable nature. Maroc relaxed slightly, only later realizing that he had been skillfully outwitted.\n\nA short while later, the adjutant returned with the despondent abbot in tow. The corpulent man's face was a portrait of dejection as he faced Sygeanor. \"The abbey has a fair supply of dried goods,\" the adjutant reported, deliberately focusing his attention on the Tier Marshall and pointedly ignoring the Ulgak. \"There is a good quantity of lard, flour, dried fruits and meat.\"\n\nSygeanor nodded knowingly and then turned to the quivering abbot, who now appeared on the verge of apoplexy. \"So it would seem that your order is not as impoverished as you would have us believe. Not surprising as one doesn't normally become so obese on a Spartan diet.\"\n\nThe abbot grimaced at the barb and appeared to crumple in on himself. A grin spread slowly over the Ulgak's face. \"It is a rather sad commentary that you would not willingly offer a portion of your provisions to an army dedicated to opposing your oppressor...sad indeed.\"\n\nThis last scathing criticism prodded the abbot past the point where he could no longer contain the years of indignation that he and his brethren had been forced to endure at the hands of people very much like the one now threatening him. \"Why should we share what little we have with you? Was our lot any less onerous before the dark queen ascended to power? We were relegated to this fringe of hell long before the enchantress cast her long shadow across the world. You demand that we surrender what little we have to support your noble cause, but who will care if these men starve as a consequence...who will mourn our passing? Consider these questions and perhaps our reluctance will seem justified...unless, of course, you are a creature of a similar stripe to the monster you presume to oppose.\"\n\nThe abbot fell to a gasping silence, his breath rising up around him in great white plumes. For a protracted moment, no one spoke and finally Sygeanor said, \"How very eloquent abbot. I'm truly touched by your plight. Fortunately, my comrades feel that it would be obdurate to commandeer your provisions, thus leaving your order to starve and so I shall not.\"\n\nThe abbot's relief was so intense that it appeared he might fall to his knees and begin to kiss Sygeanor's feet. Both Kevlan and Maroc sighed in relief, believing that they had averted a potentially staining episode. Neither noticed the expression of intense concentration that had stolen onto Sygeanor's face.\n\nAn instant later, the abbot's expression curdled into one of puzzlement before progressing to agony. He opened his mouth to scream, but his cry was forestalled by the expulsion of a glut of boiling blood. As a horrified army gazed on, the man's watery eyes fell back into his head and then exploded as an intense heat and pressure assailed his body from within.\n\nStill screaming, he clutched his skull, only to have great flaps of skin peel away like pulp from rotten fruit. Another horrifyingly slow moment passed and his frayed robe burst into flames, which quickly ignited the abbot into a grotesque human torch. Transfixed by the gruesome spectacle of immolation, none of the other monks attempted to flee. Sygeanor swept her gaze over their ranks like a scythe and one by one, the doomed men were engulfed by flames, until the abbey grounds were ablaze with eighty writhing pyres that cast the sky in hues of death and nightmares.\n\nThe screams and frenetic thrashing seemed to last an eternity...that impression further augmented by the braying of panicked horses and the hoarse shouts of negation that arose from the stunned onlookers. In truth, Sygeanor's slaughter of the helpless monks lasted less than three minutes, though the argent fires continued to burn until even the bones of the victims had been reduced to ash.\n\nSygeanor's posture relaxed and she stepped back, her broad countenance displaying neither revulsion nor remorse. Stiffly, Maroc marched toward her, his face livid with rage. Gripping her wrist, he roughly spun the Ulgak around to face him. \"How dare you? You have marred the soul of everyone present by committing this unspeakable atrocity.\"\n\nSygeanor raised an eyebrow in apparent indifference to both her action and his reaction. \"Really? Inos said that I should strive to learn the craft of leadership from you, yet you acquit yourself like a capricious nursemaid. If I would have allowed these monks to live, how long do you suppose it would have been before Myrhia's Imperial Army was alerted to our presence...a day...perhaps two at most? We are a defeated army on the verge of extinction, while Myrhia is the apparent conqueror of the word. Are you so gullible as to believe that this order of wretched, impoverished monks would not resort to treachery to ingratiate themselves with the High Queen?\"\n\n\"You have slaughtered eighty defenseless men!\" Maroc spat. \"No amount of facile rationalization will absolve you of that.\"\n\nSygeanor dismissed this allegation with a wave of her gloved hand. \"If sustaining my country's hope requires the death of eighty religious zealots, then so be it. Once one has determined that his cause is just, he must pursue it with whatever level of ruthlessness is required. That, Tier Marshall, is genuine leadership. Compassion is a luxury that we can no longer afford.\"\n\nAs though erupting in affirmation of her obdurate declaration of pragmatism, the Sherak burst upon the abbey in a blinding curtain of wind-driven snow. Sygeanor raised her arms to shield her face from the tiny needles of snow. \"If you desire, you may stay out here and wrestle with your conscience. For my part, I will partake in a hot meal and a warm bed while the opportunity presents itself.\"\n\nWith this, she marched up the crumbling stone steps and into the abbey, carrying herself with the bearing and dignity of a monarch.\n\nMaroc stood in the raging storm and watched her until the abbey swallowed her into is bleak interior. He glanced briefly at Kevlan, whose large, limpid eyes glistened wetly. It suddenly occurred to him that this gentle Metocan harbored affection for the tortured souls who occupied the Blighted Lands. How ignoble they all must seem to him at this particular moment...standing idly by while eighty men were ruthlessly murdered by a woman who might well be mad or evil...perhaps both in equal measure.\n\nWhen he could trust himself to speak, he turned to address his troops. \"Tonight, we have again borne witness to the horrors and inherent cruelties of war. We find ourselves embroiled in a struggle for our very existence, but we must diligently strive to avoid a recurrence of what has transpired here on this night, lest we become the very monsters we hope to oppose. Never forget the name Dornsark and the shame it evokes in all of us.\"\n\nSquinting against the driving snow, the Tier Marshall saw that every face (even those of the blood-drenched Emercians) reflected the ugly self-loathing that presently assailed his soul. He then told his troops to stand down and seek quarters in the Abbey, knowing that their comfort had been secured with innocent blood.\n\n5\n\nFor Ben Richards, the ten days between his discovery that his lover was an imposter of sorts and the night of Myrhia's sudden return were the darkest and strangest of his life. He could think of nothing else and that specter of dread grew deeper and more ominous by the day. A part of his mind, the part that desperately craved normalcy, clung to the hope that there was a chance that all of this might still hold a logical...mundane explanation.\n\nStill another part of his raging thoughts chastised him relentlessly for his monumental stupidity, rolling out the many small inconsistencies that had characterized their relationship...incongruities that should have told him that something was seriously awry with the woman who shared his bed.\n\n\"Why?\" That single interrogative reverberated in his mind like the resonating explosion of an artillery shell. He grappled with the question from every conceivable perspective, but could produce no plausible explanation for why Myrhia would go to such elaborate lengths to insinuate herself into his life. Beneath his towering sense of betrayal and anger, there dwelt a stirring of atavistic dread which portrayed all of her possible motivations in shades of the sinister and macabre.\n\nThat terrifying thought progressed automatically to Islena and the bewildering possibility that his wife's disappearance was directly connected to whatever machinations Myrhia might be pursuing.\n\nOnce he arrived at this disturbing juncture, Richards was drawn into a labyrinth of harrowing possibilities...each more horrible than the last. In the worst of these scenarios, Myrhia had not only killed Marius Lockland, but Islena Doraux as well. That was ludicrous of course...gentle, diminutive Myrhia was hardly capable of killing anyone. In a physical confrontation, Islena would have literally broken her in half. Then he recalled the many inexplicable acts of magic and her immutable fury after the incident at the restaurant and suddenly the notion no longer seemed quite so laughable.\n\n' _Call the police, Ben,'_ an inner voice advised. _'This situation can only get worse.'_ That was inarguably true. Myrhia had impersonated a federal agent, which was a serious crime in and of itself and the bureau would certainly want to question her on that matter. Still, as cogent as this advice might be, Richards knew that he was not going to call the police...at least, not until he had the opportunity to confront Myrhia first.\n\nNever mind that instinct admonished him that this was a drastic mistake...Ben knew that he was left with no other alternative. He had come to love Myrhia as passionately as he had loved Islena...as if his life had been touched by two great (and ultimately cataclysmic) forces. If he was to simply turn matters over to the police, he might never understand the true motivation for the grief she had visited upon him.\n\nWorse still, should his darkest fears and suspicions prove warranted, he might never learn what had become of Islena or what she might have done to become the target of a mad woman's wrath.\n\nIt was with these turbulent thoughts swirling through his mind that Ben Richards first heard the vehicle pull into his driveway near nine o'clock Thursday night. The children were in bed and if he had been thinking clearly, Richards would have made arrangements to have the boys sleep over at his mother's house, knowing that it was impossible to predict what direction the coming confrontation might take. Ben shook his head in disgust and drew a tremulous breath to gather his composure. Rational thought had been in short supply since Tuesday afternoon. He briefly entertained the notion of postponing the discussion until he could remove the children from the environment, but realized that this advice originated in a craven part of his mind that preferred false normalcy to hard truths. Richards was honest enough to know that once he peered into the depths of those limpid eyes, all of the deception would become incidental...of no real consequence at all.\n\nHe conjured the image of Islena's reproachful green eyes to bolster his determination.\n\nThe key in the lock was impossibly loud in the stillness. Richards could feel his heart begin to cycle up and glanced down to see that his hands were clutching the wingback with white-knuckled intensity.\n\nThe door swung open and Myrhia breezed across the threshold, her ethereal face rife with ebullience and high, hectic color. Richards had no way of knowing that this euphoria was inspired by her savage destruction of a natural paradise name Iythyx...a paradise that existed in a world beyond the limits of his imagination.\n\nHer gaze found his and she offered him a radiant smile that caused his heart to contract painfully in his chest for all that he had lost in the last year.\n\n\"Hello darling,\" she breathed lavishly and crossed the room to stand beside his chair, where she bent forward and placed a passionate kiss on his slack lips. When Richards responded by stiffly drawing back in his chair, Myrhia stood up and gazed at him questioningly. \"Is something the matter, Ben?\"\n\nHe raised his red-rimmed eyes to meet hers, trying to view her as a total stranger who might well be hostile. \"How did things go at the clinic?\"\n\n\"Wonderful, actually,\" she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly. \"They conducted an extensive battery of tests, all of which came back negative. The doctors have given me a clean bill of health. I raced back to Seattle to share the news with you, feeling like a small child and driving like an intoxicate teenager. Frankly, I'm fortunate that I didn't kill myself along the way.\"\n\nShe laughed lightly and when he did not join her, she reached for his left hand and reiterated her question. \"Ben, what exactly is wrong...you hardly seem overjoyed to see me?\"\n\nHis expression became flinty and he inquired, \"Which neurological clinic did your testing?\"\n\nIn the next instant, Ben felt an enormous force brush the fabric of his beset mind. He blinked several times and just as quickly as it had come, the sensation vanished and Myrhia had spun away from Richards. \"I don't particularly care for your tone, Ben,\" she informed him from over her shoulder, \"nor do I care for the implications of your question.\"\n\n\"At this precise moment, Myrhia, that I don't particularly give a shit what you care for,\" Ben retorted, his voice dripping with vitriol. Myrhia wheeled about, her dark eyes wide with fury. The extent of her rage stunned Ben and he actually flinched before it. It became readily apparent that this was not a woman, whoever she might be, who was accustomed to being spoken to with such flagrant discourtesy. For Richards, her irritation was actually a relief, rousing his own indignation. \"I called every clinic and hospital in Los Angeles...not because I wanted to check up on you, but because I was sick with worry. After all, I hadn't heard from you in three days.\"\n\n\"Ben I wanted to call you, but I decided to wait until I had the test results. I...\"\n\n\"Just stop the fucking lies!\" Richards erupted angrily. \"When I couldn't locate you in L.A., I called the Seattle Bureau office and asked for you and made two shocking discoveries...there is not, nor ever has been a Federal Agent Myrhia La Fey and Marius Lockland, the agent from whom you supposedly inherited Islena's case, is dead. It seems that he's been missing since last year...approximately the same time that you appeared on my doorstep. Coincidence? I sorely doubt it. I don't know why you've done this horrible thing to me and my children, but you're going to tell me the truth before I throw your lying ass out of here tonight...the absolute truth!\"\n\nFor a protracted moment, the room was steeped in a tense silence, as Myrhia averted her eyes and allowed her chin to settle to her chest. When she again raised her head the impression that he was confronting a total stranger intensified dramatically. If anything, this new expression of supreme confidence, mixed with unconcealed disdain, only served to confer an imperious aspect on her beauty and Richards intuited that he was finally seeing the real Myrhia.\n\n\"Very well, Ben, if it's the truth you want, then it's the truth you shall have. I must warn you that the truth can sometimes manifest itself as a doorway into a future from which there can be no return.\" She hesitated and gazed deep into his eyes, the sheer force of her personality causing him to shudder. She noticed his anguished reaction and smiled slightly. She wore a royal purple blouse of some fabric that Ben did not recognized, with a low cut neckline. Placing her hands on either armrest, she leaned forward and her full breasts drew his gaze despite his best effort to resist their allure. \"Some questions are best left unanswered, Ben. Answers often destroy beautiful illusions, such as the lives that you and I and your children have led over the last several months. I can assure you that you will find no comfort in the answers, Ben...only misery and unbearable suffering. Desist and things can stay as they are. I'll be your lover and a mother to your children. I can vow that none of you will ever know want again. I can give you happiness and unimaginable pleasure...if only you will let these foolish questions go unanswered.\"\n\nLater, in the wake of the nightmare to follow, Ben would reflect on how close he had come to succumbing to that temptation. She had punctuated that request by leaning closer still and tenderly kissing his mouth. A swirl of intoxicating scents filled his nostrils and he was cognizant of the maddening crush of her breasts upon his chest. Only the intervention of some sterner aspect of his character endowed him with the strength to grip her shoulders and firmly push her away.\n\n\"The truth Myrhia,\" he croaked in a reedy voice that he despised. She stiffened and her eyes flared belligerently as she retreated several paces.\n\n\"Very well,\" she snarled, \"but I predict that this will be a rejection you will come to rue.\" Ben's only response was an embittered glare and so she began by flatly admitting, \"I did kill Marius Lockland...and Marla Holmes...and that pathetic psychic bitch, Dominique Normandy.\"\n\nRichards Jaw dropped and he gaped at the enchantress seeing something in her glacial, dispassionate expression that validated her claim. Ben felt his eyes drawn involuntarily toward the rear bedroom where his two sons slept, unaware that they had lost another maternal figure from their lives.\n\nThe inevitable question lay poised and throbbing on his tongue and finally he mustered the courage to give it voice. \"And Islena...is she...\"\n\nThe unpalatable thought died on his lips and longing for his wife assailed him with such force that tears sprang to his eyes, bitter and fraught with self-loathing and regret.\n\n\"Islena is priceless beyond the capacity of words to express,\" the enchantress gushed effusively. \"She is most definitely alive.\"\n\nBen's relief was so profound that he actually moaned and whispered, \"Where is she?\"\n\nAgain, Myrhia flashed her radiant smile alive with obvious and inexplicable affection. \"She is in a place where she cannot be reached by any authority in this world and that is where she will remain until the moment that I decide to release her.\" The lovely smile became wolfish and she added, \"If I decide to release her.\"\n\nAll at once, outrage and fury welled up in Ben's chest like hot bile. Before he was fully aware of his own intentions, Ben leapt from his chair and attempted to pounce upon Myrhia with his hands hooked into claws. She regarded his charge calmly, her lips peeled back in a derisive smirk.\n\nSwiftly, Ben came to an abrupt halt as if the very air of the room had transmogrified into a tangible, yet invisible barrier. Puzzled, Richards could feel an unseen force tugging at his flesh. Myrhia made a slight dismissive gesture with her right hand and Ben found himself being propelled backwards.\n\nHe crashed into the wingback, from which he had so recently sprung. Both he and the chair toppled to the floor, along with a cherry wood table and a crystal decanter of scotch. Richards landed on his back and his head snapped back, bouncing off the hardwood floor with a sickening crack. He lay utterly still and dazed, gaping up at the stepped cathedral ceiling with unfocused eyes, distantly aware that the clamor had awoken his sons.\n\nStill disoriented, his head lulled to his left where he could see the two boys, both bleary-eyed with sleep, standing near the head of the hallway which led to the back bedrooms. Donald was staring at his father with an expression of clear perplexity set on his face, but Allan's attention was fixed firmly upon Myrhia, whom he had come to regard as a mother. A smile of pure joy graced his angelic face and he exclaimed, \"Auntie!\"\n\nShe held her arms out and he willingly ran to her. As she lifted the boy into her embrace, Ben attempted to bray a cry of negation but found that his voice had suddenly deserted him.\n\n\"How's my little magician?\" Myrhia inquired of Allan.\n\n\"I've missed you auntie. Where have you been?\" the boy asked. Something in the boy's attitude of absolute trust and devotion lanced Richards' heart. His gaze again shifted to Donald and a current of empathy passed between the pair and Ben knew that his eldest son had discerned that something had gone horribly awry. Ben struggled to rouse himself, but found that he was still incapable of moving and realized that the same force that had driven to this position was now shackling him in place.\n\n' _You stupid, moronic bastard...why didn't you call the police while you had the chance?'_ he berated himself as he lay there helplessly and watched this lunatic hold his beautiful son. Richards had few illusions that the police would have been able to capture this woman (if she, indeed, was a woman) or recovered Islena, but at least they might have deterred her from harming the rest of his family.\n\nMyrhia was speaking to Allan in a melodious, lullaby voice. \"Auntie Myrhia had to be away for a while, but I have a most wonderful surprise for my favorite magician.\"\n\nThe boy beamed perceptibly and she favored him with a brilliant smile. \"I promised that I would take you to a magical place where you would experience wonders beyond your wildest imaging. Auntie Myrhia always keeps her promises and if you would still like to go, I will take you there.\"\n\n\"Please, Auntie Myrhia!\" Allan pleaded eagerly.\n\n\"Do you love your auntie, Allan?\" she asked the boy, her tone solemn. The boy nodded with equal solemnity and she hugged him tight, flashing a triumphant grin at the horrified Richards from over his small shoulder. In that contemptuous smile, Richard gleaned the true purpose of her presence and his horror ignited like a firestorm.\n\n\"Little magicians require their rest if they're to make long journeys,\" Myrhia informed the enthralled boy.\n\n\"Do we have a long way to go, Auntie?\" the boy asked, a flicker of doubt reflecting in his green eyes.\n\n\"A very long way, but auntie Myrhia will be with you the entire time,\" she reassured him and he smiled again, evidently satisfied. \"Little magicians need their rest,\" she cooed again and passed her palm over his smooth brow. Within the blink of an eye, the boy had lapsed into a deep sleep. Myrhia regarded the child for several seconds and then, carrying him over to the sofa, unceremoniously dumped the boy onto the cushions as though she was disposing of something both useless and distasteful.\n\nBen cursed her and then shouted for Donald to run. The boy stood, staring wide-eyed for a second, clearly reluctant to abandon his father and brother.\n\n\"Get out Donald...for God's sake, Run!\" Ben screamed, his voice choked by pain and desperation. Now, the boy required no further prompting. Taking heed, he sprinted toward the back bedrooms and the rear door beyond.\n\nHe had taken no more than three steps, when Myrhia raised her right arm and splayed her delicate fingers. In response, blue sparks appeared between each digit, quickly coalescing into a globe of light that appeared deceptively soft. Myrhia's lips parted slightly and then the blue light flew from her hand, converging upon the fleeing boy in a brilliant arc.\n\nBen uttered a shriek of admonition, but the boy scarcely had time to glance back over his shoulder before the ball of effulgence overcame him.\n\nHis body stiffened as if it was being subjected to a high voltage electric current and his eyes abruptly rolled back in their sockets. An instant later, the blue light dissipated and the boy sagged to the floor in a boneless sprawl, where his body lay twitching for several seconds before falling limp.\n\nA wail of despair tore from Richards' throat, primal and raw. Myrhia marched swiftly across the room and kicked him viciously in the ribs. His scream degenerated into a series of gasps and sobs.\n\n\"Stop braying like a dog!\" she seethed. \"The boy is unconscious...nothing more. He'll feel no lasting effects of the spell I've cast upon him.\"\n\nBen's gasps settled into a series of harsh sobs. \"You miserable bitch...I'll kill you for what you've done to my family!\"\n\nMyrhia greeted this threat with a spate of sardonic laughter. \"How precious. I would say that you're hardly in a position to utter threats...however ludicrous. Now that I've silenced the distractions, I trust that you're prepared to listen?\"\n\nHe glanced up at her, obstinately refusing to reply. Myrhia's anger was a mercurial thing and now it swept over her like clear air turbulence. Her color deepened to scarlet and Richards had but a moment to recall her towering rage in her car before she fell upon him.\n\n\"Don't trifle with me,\" she seethed, driving a knee into his sternum and seizing his hair with both hands. \"You will respond when I ask a question...is that perfectly clear?\" She punctuated each word by raising his head and slamming it back down onto the hardwood floor.\n\nBen grunted, feeling warm blood intermingling with the perspiration in his hair and he realized that this woman was quite capable of literally bashing his head to splinters is he did not tell her what she wished to hear. \"I'll listen!\" he howled. \"I'LL LISTEN, DAMNIT!\"\n\nThe battering ceased abruptly and Myrhia leapt from Richards' chest and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, closing her eyes until her rage evaporated. When she turned her attention to Ben, her eyes twinkled with their customary mirth. \"Ben, it really isn't wise to provoke me and I think I've exercised a saintly degree of restraint in dealing with a dog dropping such as you. Again, you've insisted that I tell you what's become of Islena. Now, are you prepared to listen?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he croaked, at once eager to learn the truth while dreading what this mad woman might reveal.\n\nAnd so she told him in explicit detail, revealing everything, including her own machinations and ambitions. As he listened, Ben's weeping grew more intense, though now he cried as much out of relief as sorrow. Interspersed amidst her lunatic ravings of sorcery and universal conquest, lay the one jewel of information that Richards had so desperately wanted to hear...Islena was alive.\n\nWhen Myrhia concluded her fantastical tale, she fell silent and gazed intently at the fallen Richards for several moments, at last demanding, \"Do you believe me, Benjamin?\"\n\nRichards did not respond at once, instead pondering his twisted feelings on the subject. In the controlled light of day, what this wicked woman was suggesting was utterly ludicrous. Yet, when Richards peered up into Myrhia's limpid eyes, he discerned not the slightest glimmer of madness...only a personality of inexorable force and focus...a literal juggernaut of ambition. Gazing into those eyes was akin to peering through a key hole into an unexplored universe, where every conceivable rule and standard would not apply.\n\n\"Yes, I believe you,\" he whispered softly and she smiled.\n\n\"Very good Ben. Perhaps I've not afforded you the credit you deserve. You're certainly prudent enough to dispose of the old prejudicial notions and that is just as well. It will make what is to follow an infinitely simpler matter. Of course, you must realize why I am correct in my assertion that Islena is well beyond the reach of anything in this world. Furthermore, you would be branded a lunatic, should you attempt to enlist the help of any man or institution beyond these walls. So just precisely where does this set of rather dire circumstances leave you, Ben?\"\n\nRichards merely stared back at his tormentor, his expression an odd mixture of numb horror and baleful frustration. Her assessment of his predicament was chillingly accurate. There was simply no quarter that he could turn to for help. His sense of isolation made him feel small and inadequate. Weakly, he asked, \"What is it you want from me?\"\n\nMyrhia smiled, \"That's a good, submissive dog. It is well that you grasp the salient nature of your situation. Ben, it might just spare your life and the lives of your family. Islena must submit to my will, Ben. Inevitably, she will, though she still clings to her foolish posture of defiance. To insure that she abandons this foolish opposition, I intend to provide her with an inducement that I believe will bring her to heel.\"\n\nHer gaze shifted to where Allan lay sleeping blissfully on the spot where he'd been dumped. Ben followed her gaze, his intense horror gathering into painful focus.\n\n' _My son!'_ he realized. _'The evil bitch intends to take my son!'_ Like clouds suddenly parting to reveal a pristine blue sky, the true shape of Myrhia's machinations became brutally apparent to Richards then. All of her scheming...her elaborate seduction and beguilement...had been nothing but a misdirection that would allow her to abduct one of his sons. A profound sense of shame and self-loathing welled up in his soul then, scouring his insides like burning bile. He had actually taken this woman to his bed...the bed he shared with Islena, where they had made love and conceived their two children. If he lived for centuries beyond this odious night, Richards doubted he could ever rid himself of that pervasive sense of corruption...of physical and spiritual pollution that this brutal realization engendered.\n\n\"Please don't take my son!\" he entreated, despising the impotent whimper in his voice. \"Take me in his place...he's only a small child.\"\n\nMyrhia threw back her head and laughed in disdainful amusement. \"What an absolute fool you are. Is there a man alive who possesses even a rudimentary comprehension of women? I suppose not. No matter how intensely Islena might love you, Richards, she would sacrifice you in the blink of an eye to preserve the life of one of her sons. There is an inviolable spiritual bond that a woman forges with her offspring. For a man, however...\"\n\nMyrhia waved her hand dismissively. \"So you see Ben...you would not be a poor substitute for your son...you would be no substitute at all. A woman will stop at nothing...sink to any level of prurient behavior...for the wellbeing of her child. With her whelp in my grasp, Islena will renounce her every principle to keep him safe and she will fetch the Proclamations like a subservient dog.\"\n\n\"She'll kill you,\" Ben said quietly and in his voice there resonated a note of such implacable certainly that Myrhia's smile faltered, if only slightly. The pair glared at each other, a moment of pure emotional empathy lying naked between them, and then Myrhia's deceptively innocent smile slipped back into place like a veil.\n\n\"I have no further time to waste Richards. The quest for omnipotence makes no allowance for laggards.\"\n\nPivoting gracefully, she crossed over to the sofa where Allan lay and lifted the boy into her arms, before turning back to Richards with a radiant grin. \"Well, Ben, I would imagine that this is farewell. The day may come when I wish to expand my realm into this world. If so, who can say...perhaps I can find a minor place for you in my service.\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\" he croaked, though his defiance rang hollow in light of his position of total vulnerability. Myrhia's smile only broadened, though Ben noticed that she had begun to flicker as if she was becoming insubstantial.\n\n' _I'm going mad,'_ he thought as a family portrait came into view that had been obscured by Myrhia only seconds before.\n\n\"Some advice, Ben,\" she concluded, even as she and Allan began to fade from view as though they were leaking out of one reality and into another. \"Do nothing. Carry on with your life as though nothing has changed. If you comply, I promise you that, in time, you will be reunited with your son.\"\n\nBen's only response was a strangled whimper. Still immobilized, he could do nothing but gaze on helplessly as Myrhia abducted his son.\n\nRichards whispered the boy's name as Allan vanished from sight.\n\nIn the next instant, his strange paralysis was gone and the wooden end table had been restored. He stared at it in dark wonder for several moments, grappling with the very real possibility that he might have fallen down the rabbit hole into madness. Then his fragile grip on composure shattered and he curled into a protective ball and began to sob uncontrollably.\n\nHis tears poured forth in a hot deluge and only Donald's groaning pulled him back from the brink of total emotional collapse.\n\nRichards pushed himself to his knees to find his last remaining son lying face down on the carpet where Myrhia's bolt of malevolence had overtaken him. Feeling leaden and sick, Ben crawled over to offer what comfort he could to the boy, knowing that he would heed the witch's parting advice.\n\nHe would sift through the ashes of this latest disaster, apprising no one of his son's disappearance, while clinging to the slim hope that Myrhia would honor her vow.\n\nChapter Eighteen\n\n1\n\nPain-wracked and nearly immobilized by dejection, Arminda sat with her back to a towering ironwood tree, trying unsuccessfully to visualize a possible positive future beyond this particular moment. Her bruised and swollen face ached dully and she began to suspect that Lorio had fractured one of her cheekbones. Still, the pain in her face paled in comparison to the throbbing misery of her agonized ribs. The agony there was a venomous thing that would allow her no peace.\n\nHollow-eyed from lack of sleep, she could only sit in stony silence as her gaze swept the heavens in search of Sormias and Islena. There was, perhaps, another five hours of daylight left, but if the Golgar did not return Doraux before nightfall, the Jerhia understood that she would just have to accept that Islena was lost to the party. With that loss would go the last slim hope of this dying world. A small part of her mind welcomed this...the very undisciplined part that wanted Doraux to suffer horribly for what she had done...not only to Emian, but to her brother as well. The demon had claimed that Doraux had helped torture and kill her brother, and though she wanted desperately to reject this claim, it gnawed at her like an irritant in an oyster's gullet...growing constantly with the passage of time to become a black pearl of malice.\n\nDrawing a shallow breath to limit the corresponding pain, she turned her head to where solitary Lorio paced near the banks of a small creek. Never before had she seen the Lamish warrior so animated...so flagrantly distressed. Every moment of Islena's continuing absence seemed to be driving the woman closer to an emotional eruption that filled Arminda's heart with dread.\n\nOf all the intriguing people whom Arminda had encountered during the course of this incredible journey, Lorio was the most enigmatic. Surly and dangerous as a rule, she could display moments of exceptional tenderness. Even her attitude toward Islena was difficult to fathom. At times, it seemed that she despised the smaller woman, and yet she repeatedly risked her life on Islena's behalf without thought or hesitation. It occurred to Arminda that this was a riddle of considerable consequence...one that she would soon have to solve.\n\nShe was contemplating the woman's intrinsic mystery, when she first became cognizant of a sharp snapping that reminded her of the sound a flag might make on a particularly windy day.\n\nGazing up, she saw the Golgar come sailing over the tree tops, cradling Islena Doraux firmly in his arms. Nothing in his posture indicated menace and upon seeing the party members, Islena bellowed a joyful cry of greeting.\n\nLorio spun around, her intense eyes fixing upon the descending pair while an expression of hatred and suspicion spread over her face like oil on the surface of calm waters.\n\nSormias landed with his customary grace and Islena slid from his arms, standing utterly naked before the three surviving party members. Her smile was radiant and disarming, making it immediately evident that the afflicting venom had been purged from her system. Arminda pushed herself to her feet with a harsh grunt as her side protested with a tortured scream. \"Islena, are you well?\"\n\nBefore Doraux could respond, Lorio sprang forward and pounced on the unsuspecting Golgar in a dervish of feet and fists, snarling and cursing like an enraged animal. Sormias reeled backward from the unexpected attack as Lorio's fingers clamped down around his wind pipe.\n\nFor several seconds, Islena was simply too stunned to react, watching in open bewilderment as Sormias and Lorio grappled over the grassy clearing. She watched in transfixed horror as Lorio drove her head into Sormias' exposed face and clawed at his eyes.\n\n' _She's going to kill him if you don't do something to stop her!'_ This was irrefutably true. Despite his enormous power, the Golgar seemed unable to defend himself as if Lorio's attack had harmed him in some fundamental way that Islena could not grasp. The notion broke her paralysis and she leapt onto Lorio's back, struggling to pull her free of the beleaguered Golgar. Trying to pull the woman free was akin to attempting to wrestle with a twist of steel cables, but she finally managed to lock her legs around Lorio's torso and sink an arm deep into her throat. With a ferocious jerk, she succeeded in rolling to her left and pulling Lorio away from Sormias, who immediately flapped his wings and took to the air.\n\nDoraux had feared that the Golgar would respond violently, but he only hovered in midair, viewing the struggling women with open dismay. Amber fluid ran freely from his nose and from an abrasion over his left eye and Islena realized that Lorio had actually succeeded in drawing blood. The notion evoked a black rage in Doraux. For all of his innocence, Sormias had been repaid in scorn and now physical abuse.\n\nStill clutching Lorio in a choke hold, she snarled, \"Stop squirming this instant or I swear, I'll snap your neck like a twig.\"\n\nLorio tensed and then went utterly still in Islena's grasp. Twisting her head slightly so as to peer directly into Islena's eyes, she whispered, \"I know what you've done. I can smell the stink of him on you.\"\n\nThen she broke Islena's grip and bound lithely to her feet, staring balefully at the hovering Golgar before stalking off to the edge of the stream.\n\nIslena climbed to her feet, still trembling with anger. \"Are you alright, Sormias?\"\n\n\"Other than wounded pride, yes, I believe I am,\" the Golgar disclosed, coming to land beside Doraux, who glanced at his wounded face and felt a fresh twinge of pain lance her heart. \"Islena, quell your rage. I was not exactly forthcoming in my intention when I first abducted you yesterday. I would imagine that you friend must have been frantic with worry.\"\n\n\"That does not justify what she's done to you,\" Islena seethed, not able to drag her smoldering gaze from Lorio's back.\n\n\"Perhaps not, but your friend is impetuous and passionate...very much like you are, Islena,\" Sormias added gently.\n\nIslena's gaze jerked to the Golgar, her eyes blazing. \"No...we are nothing alike.\"\n\nEven as she uttered this, Islena understood that it was, at least in part, a lie. Sormias placed a placating hand on her shoulder and she felt some of her anger melt with his touch, vividly recalling more gentle and pleasant emotions. \"Let it go, Islena.\"\n\nGradually, the tension drained from her body and she nodded with a deep sigh. Then she turned her attention to Arminda, seeing the girl's battered countenance for the first time. Islena's breath hitched in her chest at the sight of the massive swelling that was only now beginning to recede slightly, leaving ugly purple bruises in its wake. She exhaled, the breath rattling out of her lungs like air from a worn billows. \"Who?\"\n\nArminda's gaze slid to Lorio, revealing all that Islena needed to know. Frowning, she turned and started toward the hybrid, but the Jerhia seized her wrist and pulled her back. \"Please Islena...don't exacerbate matters by forcing this issue. When Sormias first took you, Lorio was in a frenzy of grief and shock. She blamed me for allowing it to happen and vented her rage accordingly. After, she grasped the error of her actions and I've forgiven her.\"\n\nReaching into the folds of her battered tunic, she produced Lorio's Zarcyk, explaining its significance to the dour-faced Doraux. \"She's placed her soul in my keeping, Islena. I suspect that this is the most solemn gesture that a person of her race might offer. I say that it is sufficient and I am the aggrieved party.\"\n\nIslena regarded the Jerhia, her lovely face impassive in the soft light of the late afternoon. \"I'll defer to you on this Arminda, but I must speak to her privately.\"\n\nAgain, she turned and started toward the hybrid. From over her shoulder, she heard Arminda reiterate, \"No violence, Islena. As angry as you might be, we still need her.\"\n\nDoraux crossed over to where Lorio stood and suddenly all of the turbulence and uncertainty that had surrounded her emotions resolved themselves into a clear course of action...a final settling of accounts between the two women. She stopped two paces from the taller woman with her back turned to the other party members so they would not glean what was being exchanged between the two.\n\nLorio sensed Islena's presence and turned slightly away from Doraux, who was amazed to discover that the taller woman was weeping silently. \"I hope those are tears of shame. If so, they're not nearly adequate. What you've done to Arminda is deplorable. I've always sensed that your nature held a certain cruelty, but I never thought that you were capable of something so depraved as to physically assault a handicapped woman.\"\n\nLorio turned to face Doraux for the first time, revealing a tear-streaked face that was distorted by raw anguish. \"How could you...if it was comfort you needed...physical contact...why would you not seek it in me? Have I not devoted everything to you...surrendered my home and life on your behalf? Have I not shown that I would give up my life so that you might live? Knowing this and knowing how I long for a kind word or touch, you would still turn to that thing for comforts of the flesh?\" She jerked her head in Sormias' direction. \"How dare you accuse me of cruelty?\"\n\n\"Whom I decide to take as a lover is none of your concern...nor is it the issue. You've heaped your contempt on a woman who deserves nothing but praise for her courage. If that isn't enough, you've turned to physically beating her, when your rage is directed at me. Is this not so?\"\n\nLorio merely stared ruefully at Islena, but stubbornly refused to respond. Naked, she moved closed and gripped Lorio's wrist, digging her nails into the flesh there until they left tiny crescents in the flawless skin. \"Is it not so?\"\n\nIntensely cognizant of the weight of Islena's bare breast against her forearm, Lorio rasped, \"I despise you...you self-absorbed bitch. Every time I've buried my quarterstaff in something's heart, I see your face.\"\n\nDoraux nodded impassively and releasing Lorio's arm, stepped clear of the taller woman. \"It's well that all is clear between us. I'm going to dispatch Sormias to find the king and inform him of our coming. Once I've done that, you and I are going to find a place where we can privately air our grievances and settle them permanently...no outside interference.\"\n\n\"Don't be foolish, Islena. You know that I can easily kill you if it came to that. Despite your courage, you are not a warrior.\"\n\nIslena grinned humorlessly. \"Maybe not, but this is something that has to be put to rest. There is too much at stake to allow personal animosity to destroy my one hope for survival. Right now, I can barely restrain the urge to drown you in that stream and you know you want to do the same for what I did with Sormias, if nothing else...so let's find a place and see who makes who beg and plead like a whipped dog.\"\n\n\"And if I simply decline?\"\n\n\"Then I'll beat you to a bloody, humiliated pulp and lay you at Arminda's feet,\" Islena vowed, her tone harsh and implacable.\n\nLorio averted her eyes, knowing that their moment of reckoning had finally come and that Myrhia would now have her ignoble victory. \"I'll be waiting.\"\n\nThe two women regarded each other unblinkingly for several moments, a current of pure emotional empathy passing between them. Theirs had been a relationship that had traversed the emotional gamut from belligerence to love and finally back to rancor, bringing the pair to a moment of unavoidable conflict.\n\nIslena averted her eyes and turned away, experiencing a sharp pang of bitter regret. Returning to Sormias, she made her final request of the Golgar, who as always, was more than eager to comply. Together, they passed through the trees and out of sight of the others. Doraux, once certain that the pair was alone, drew Sormias into an embrace and passionately kissed his mouth, surprised at the insistence of her hunger.\n\nReluctantly, she pushed him to arm's length and peered into his amber eyes. \"We're going to proceed directly to the coast, while you fly to inform the king that we're on our way. Do not reveal the purpose of our coming. The Proclamations are a contentious and delicate subject. It is best that he grasp the exigency of our situation before I reveal the true purpose of my coming.\"\n\nSormias nodded and Islena inquired, \"How long do you think it will be before we reach Artumas?\"\n\n\"A day's journey to reach the coast and another two days before you actually reach his hovel.\" The Golgar paused, his expression falling into shadow\n\nIslena discerned his disquiet and prompted, \"You seem reluctant, Sormias,\"\n\nHe shifted his gaze to a point over her shoulder. \"You're an incisive woman, Islena. Leaving you at this particular moment chills my heart.\"\n\nShe regarded him questioningly. \"Do you anticipate that we'll encounter problems over the next few days?\"\n\nThe Golgar shook his head. \"Once you reach the coast, I believe your path to Artumas will be free and unencumbered...though this is the stuff of speculation. I believe that the ocean shore lies just outside of the realm of shades. My anxiety springs from the animosity that festers between you and Lorio. Islena, you would be well advised to heed Arminda's plea and let matters rest.\"\n\n\"That's something I simply can't do,\" Islena allowed softly. \"There are too many simmering emotions between us...like wounds that won't heal until they're treated. Lorio grows more erratic...more volatile by the day...that's obvious by the heinous thing she's done to Arminda. She's grown bitter and that stone has poisoned her heart. I'll admit that I'm responsible for that bitterness and I owe her the opportunity to vent her rage.\"\n\n\"Islena, I think that matter far exceeds the airing of personal grievances,\" Sormias amended.\n\nDoraux looked up at the Golgar sharply. \"Why do I have the impression that you're about to tell me something I'd rather not hear.\"\n\nSormias' face contracted in consternation. \"By the Gods, there is so much about human nature that I have yet to comprehend. I'm scarcely able to believe your sensory limitations. How vulnerable it is to be mortal.\"\n\n\"Sormias, what exactly are you talking about?\" Islena demanded in impatient exasperation.\n\n\"Islena, can you not discern the difference in Lorio's nature?\"\n\n\"She's stern certainly and almost belligerent at times, but the reason for much of her anger is perfectly legitimate,\" Islena began, not grasping the Golgar's intention.\n\n\"Not her disposition, Islena,\" the Golgar interrupted, \"though she is certainly irascible. What I refer to is her essence...she is not mortal in the sense that you or Arminda are mortal.\" Again, Sormias paused as if he considered this disclosure to be somehow distasteful.\n\n\"Sormias, what exactly are you trying to tell me? If there is something you know about Lorio...something that's happened to her, it's imperative that I know and understand,\" Islena urged, her powerful fingers digging into Sormias' forearm for emphasis.\n\nThe Golgar's expression became somber and his eyes narrowed into thoughtful slits as he attempted to summon the proper words to accurately describe what he had glean of the warrior's nature. \"A seed has been inculcated in Lorio's core. It is malevolent in nature and intent...and had endowed your friend with a strength and invulnerability that no mere mortal would possess.\"\n\n\"You're trying to tell me that Lorio is no longer human? That something or someone has transformed her into...what, an immortal?\" Doraux stammered, not wanting to accept any of what she was being told. Her traitorous mind assailed her with a dozen images of the many incredible exploits that Lorio had performed during the course of their odyssey in the west.\n\n\"This explains so much,\" she intoned distantly, gazing back over her shoulder. \"I suspected that something had changed from the first moment she appeared in Othgol, but I was so relieved to see her that I never really entertained the question.\" Sormias arched an eyebrow and Islena recounted the tale of events surrounding her separation from Lorio at Runesholm. She said nothing to diminish her own culpability in driving Lorio away. She concluded by wondering, \"Just what is it that Lorio has become and how?\"\n\n\"As to how the changes in her nature came to be, I cannot speculate, but when I once probed her thoughts, I discovered a void buried deep in the recesses of her subconscious. Though the word is unfamiliar to me, intuition informs me that it best describes what she has become...Morticant.\"\n\nA sharp, sibilant hiss escaped Islena's lips...the sound a punctured balloon might make. Her face congealed into a knot of apoplectic horror. Though she could not speak, Islena shook her head in strident denial.\n\nUnsettled by her distress, the Golgar seized Islena's arms and inquired sharply, \"You are familiar with this term, Islena?\"\n\nDoraux shook the Golgar off and turned partially away, her expression of shocked negation yielding to dawning acceptance.\n\n\"Islena, what are these Morticants?\" Sormias persisted with mounting alarm.\n\nHaltingly, Islena explained the concept of the Morticants as she understood it. \"They're abominations...some sort of evil engine of destruction that Myrhia created to help fulfill her mad ambition. We're not sure how they're created or from what, for that matter, but I can personally attest to the fact that they're invincible.\" Suddenly, her breath hitched in her chest and she plunged her face into her hands as though trying to stem the flow of tears. Sormias gazed at the distraught woman in confusion for several moments, unable to fully comprehend the source of Islena's grief or how he might console her.\n\nFinally, he took her in his arms and held her against him, distinctly aware of the crush of her breasts against his chest. As her tears abate, Islena was able to convey the cause of her distress. \"When I was first abducted from my world, Myrhia sent one of her Morticants to bring me to this wretched fucking place. It killed my closest friend...a woman named Marla Holmes. In Runesholm, Marla reappeared...resurrected by Myrhia's dark magic. Only, this thing wasn't really Marla. Somehow the enchantress had reanimated Marla...transformed her into a living vessels of pure hatred and I was the subject of her wrath and abhorrence. By good fortune more than anything else, I managed to drive Myrhia and her evil parody of Marla away.\"\n\nIslena sighed...a sound that reminded Sormias of forlorn winds blowing through abandoned caves. \"I was frantic and overwhelmed by dejection in the aftermath of that confrontation. It's never been easy for me to recognize my faults, much less admit them to another person. Still, my heart was full of outrage and indignation and I directed it all at Lorio. That particular reaction is all too characteristic for me. When I feel beset, I have a tendency to lash out at the first convenient target. More often than not, that target just happens to be someone I love.\"\n\nShe glanced shyly up at the Golgar, her expression bleak and fraught with earnest confusion. \"There are other aspects of my nature that frighten me and I've struggled my entire life to repress them. In my own world, I pretty much managed to keep my darker side on a tight leash, but here in this savage place, where everything centers on the incessant battle for power, it's not been such an easy matter.\"\n\n\"In the time that I have known you, Islena, I have seen no indication that you could turn into a power-addled tyrant,\" Sormias commented seriously.\n\n\"Oh, but I could Sormias,\" Islena countered hotly. \"With the right inducement, I could easily give into the temptation of power. During my time on the island, I gained an insight into my past...or more correctly, the lives I have lived before this one. In many of those incarnations, I held great power and always to tragic and bloody affect. Nothing in my past compares with the puissance that is being dangled before me in this world and I've lived with this particular terror every day since this nightmare first began. If I bathed twice daily in your lake of purification, I doubt that I could eradicate that aspect of my character...it's woven into the fibers of my being. This is why I find it difficult to accept that I am some virtuous engine of destiny.\"\n\nDoraux lapsed into a dreary silence and reluctantly pulled away from Sormias, and though her eyes were dry, her face was a living mask of misery. \"When Lorio fled Runesholm, she must have ended up in Myrhia's grasp. I suppose it's only logical that she would. Then the enchantress transmogrified her into a Morticant. You see, Sormias, the responsibility for what's happened to her falls directly upon my shoulders...yet another indelible stain on my soul.\"\n\nShe closed her eyes and something suddenly occurred to her. \"What I fail to understand is Lorio's behavior. Yes, she's fundamentally different from the woman she was prior to the incident at Runesholm. Still, she's saved my life on a dozen different occasions. Marla...the other Morticant...wanted only to tear my heart out.\"\n\nThe Golgar pursed his lips. \"I concede that there is much that I fail to comprehend regarding the machinations of this Myrhia. You said that this woman's schemes are predicated on her bending you to her will and thus it is improbable that she would allow one of her minions to kill you. More likely, this Lorio's purpose is to abduct you...when the moment is right.\"\n\nIslena's face blanched at the notion of being returned to Myrhia's custody. \"If that was the case, events have provided her with countless opportunities. Why would she wait until we've crossed the entire fucking continent?\"\n\nFrustration radiated from Doraux like a palpable heat, though Sormias could only shrug his shoulders helplessly and speculate, \"Islena, I discern an extreme ambivalence dwelling within your friend's heart...an emotional tempest that has yet to resolve itself. Perhaps therein resides the explanation to your question.\"\n\nAgain, Doraux fetched a deep sigh that seemed to shake her entire body. \"What I did at Runesholm has led directly to this. What am I to do now, Sormias?\"\n\nHe considered her thoughtfully for a moment. \"Islena, I do know that your Lorio is dangerous...murderously so. This is why I implore you not to provoke her. Do you still want me to convey your message to Artumas?\"\n\nIslena pondered this for a moment and nodded. Sormias frowned, but deferred to her judgment. \"Very well, but Islena, you must vow to me...on the love that we've made...that you will do nothing to resolve this issue until I return. You must swear that you will abandon the notion of confrontation until I return and behave toward her as though nothing has changed. Without the sword, you are no match for the creature she has become.\"\n\nDoraux gazed up at the sky, which had darkened to a potentially nasty shade of gray as huge clouds lumbered ponderously out of the west. How could she ever hope to face Lorio without betraying any of this emotional turbulence that was tearing at her heart...or without falling upon her knees before the woman and pleading for forgiveness for the injustice she had inadvertently committed against the Lamish beauty?\n\n\"I'll say nothing until your return,\" she swore softly and the Golgar sighed in relief. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her pliable mouth. She held his kiss for a moment, marveling how he could arouse her even in the depth of her anguish.\n\nHe pushed her to arm's length and disclosed solemnly, \"I believe that you are far too critical in your assessment of your self-worth, Islena Doraux. Stay safe until next we meet.\"\n\nDoraux offered the Golgar a smile of gratitude and then nodded. With a flap of his powerful wings, the Golgar was airborne and flying west into the gathering gloom.\n\n2\n\nIslena watched morosely as Sormias disappeared into the deepening gloom, her heart feeling leaden and sick. Sighing elaborately, she turned and trudged back through the trees, attempting to grapple with the emotional fallout that the Golgar's revelation had evoked.\n\n\"Lorio, a hybrid Morticant.\" She uttered the words aloud, still hardly able to accept the notion that her friend had become Myrhia's pawn. In truth, the concept was no more improbable than the idea that the enchantress had resurrected a belligerent Marla Holmes to bring Islena to heel.\n\nSormias had warned her that it would be dangerous to reveal any knowledge of Lorio's transformation, claiming that she lacked the means to confront the hybrid alone. Now, however, an inner voice whispered that, in this matter, the Golgar's assessment was incorrect. As she moved through the steeped shadows, Islena tried to divine the meaning of this cryptic contradiction and found that she could not. If there was a vulnerable chink in a Morticant's armor, Islena had no idea just what that weakness might be.\n\nThe image of her defeat of Myrhia at Runesholm resolved itself in her thoughts then, but she had achieved that only with the aid of the Jerhia Icon. Now the icon was gone, surrendered at the height of her poisoning, and she was a vulnerable mortal once more.\n\n' _On that, you are wrong, Islena,'_ a voice contradicted mildly. This time she recognized the speaker to be Kevlan, the Metocan who had guided her out of the Blighted Lands. As they had fled to the west, the soft spoken sage had explained the nature of her complex relationship with the sword. In a flash of irritation, she realized that she could not precisely recall just what he had revealed, though she correctly deduced that it had been something of paramount importance.\n\nAt once, the heavens opened, drenching the world as though inspired by a willful act of belligerence. Cold rain struck Doraux like silver needles as she passed into the clearing, which stood next to a small stream.\n\nThere, she came to an abrupt halt. The clearing was empty!\n\nPanic welled up in her heart then, cold and coppery. Of all possible eventualities, the prospect of being left alone in this phantasmal place was the most insufferable. The fear ebbed as quickly as it had come. Lorio would never abandon her, irrespective of what changes might have overcome her.\n\nDrawing a tremulous breath, Islena ventured deeper into the clearing. Not far from where she last saw Lorio, a small cloth bundle lay on a fallen log.\n\nStriding out into the clearing, she retrieved the bundle and upon recognition, the item caused her breath to hitch in her chest and the blood to drain from her face. In trembling hands, she held the spandex body suit that she had been wearing when she was abducted from Dominique Normandy's parlor. Tentatively, she ran her fingers over the material as if it might be an illusion, almost fumbling the garment when it proved to be quite real.\n\n\"I've had it all along, Islena,\" declared a voice from over her shoulder. Doraux wheeled around, still clutching the spandex to her breasts.\n\nLorio was standing on the opposite side of the clearing, her face inscrutable in the gloom. Her long black hair was plastered to her brow and her eyes burned like dark suns, frightening in their intensity. She walked slowly toward Islena, causally twirling her quarterstaff. For a brief instant, time circled back on itself and it seemed that Islena was seeing Lorio for the first time...still the arrogant brat come to humble the hapless stranger.\n\nThe hybrid came to a halt about ten paces from Islena. \"Put it on, Islena. It's obscene, but it's preferable to walking around like an intoxicated tavern harlot.\"\n\nIslena complied gratefully, liking the familiar feel of the material against her skin. Here and there, the material was torn...a graphic reminder of the pain and intensity of their last confrontation. Islena's eyes were drawn to the maroon splotches around each of the ragged tears. Still, being clothed reduced her sense of vulnerability...if only marginally. She glanced up at Lorio through the driving rain, \"Thank you.\"\n\nLorio waved this off with a dismissive flick of her right hand. \"It's only fitting that you end this pilgrimage much in the same way it began. As you said, now is the time for a settling of accounts between us...a time for candor.\" Islena took several lateral steps along the bank, her eyes drawn to the deadly quarterstaff. Surely her long road of tribulation and suffering was not meant to end with this hybrid simply beating her to death...that would be excessively cruel, even for an indifferent god.\n\n\"Where are Arminda and Gillian?\"\n\n\"Safe and unharmed, though what I did to them was necessary to insure that they would not interfere. This is strictly between you and me, Islena.\" Having said this, Lorio abruptly raised the quarterstaff above her head and brought it crashing down across her raised knee. Incredibly, the ironwood shattered like dry kindling, the resounding crack echoing impossibly loud in Doraux's ears. For a moment, Islena misconstrued the gesture to be conciliatory, but then her gaze shifted to Lorio's face and was met with a blaze of unmitigated hatred. \"Time to abandon the charade Islena...Myrhia is my mistress, though I suspect you already know that.\"\n\n\"Lorio, I want you to listen carefully to what I'm about to say. I discerned the change ever since you mysteriously appeared in Othgol. I wanted to ignore it and I won't pretend that I'm not fully responsible for what happened to you, but please don't compound my guilt by doing something reprehensible. Irrespective of that, you know how vile Myrhia truly is. Our time in the dungeons of Perdwick demonstrated just how depraved she can be. Whatever it is that you've become, I know that you have no desire to become a party to her evil.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Lorio retorted, her full lips twisted in a sardonic grin. \"Islena, you might be shocked at how little you know about anything. At any rate, I'm a Morticant and yes, the fault is entirely yours. You're coming back with me, Islena...one way or the other. I must say that I personally hope you'll resist. After all, it's why I decided to break my quarterstaff...I won't deny the pleasure of hurting you with my own two hands. I want to feel your pain reverberate through my flesh, though even if I was to beat you for an eternity, I doubt that it would be adequate recompense for how horrid it was to have Myrhia's filthy seed implanted in my heart.\"\n\nIslena raised her hands in a gesture of appeasement. \"Lorio, there is no need for this. I'm not certain, but I think that Myrhia's corruption can be reversed. Sormias took me to this place...a molten lake where the lava actually leeched the spider's virulence from my system. There is no reason why it might not have the same effect on Myrhia's seed. Let's go to Sormias and he will take you there.\"\n\n\"And will I have to fuck him too? Is that part of the bargain?\" the hybrid hissed balefully. Doraux's shoulders sagged as it became apparent that there would be no reasoning with the thing that Lorio had become. Her bitter resentment was too trenchant to be surmounted by reason.\n\n\"I'm not going to let you take me to Myrhia. No matter what you've become or how powerful you might be, I'll never allow that. Quite frankly, I'd rather have you kill me here and now than be forced back under her hand.\"\n\nAs the rain continued to intensify, Lorio offered Islena a predator's grin and started forward. \"I have no intention of killing you, Islena. Will I not have to live with what you've done to me for an eternity? Death would be a respite that you definitely don't deserve. Who's to say that she won't choose to make you a hybrid? Myrhia has no intention of confining her conquest to this world once she has compelled you to lay the Proclamations at her feet. Imagine an army of Morticants being loosed on your world under your generalship. As distressing as you might find this to be, this scenario could become a reality in the not too distant future.\"\n\nIslena grimaced and Lorio's smile only broadened. \"Unsettling, isn't it...the notion that you might actually destroy your own kindred to serve Myrhia's agenda of conquest.\"\n\n\"If it satisfies whatever lust for vengeance you harbor, then I'll let you do to me what you want. I won't raise a finger in my own defense. I only ask one thing...one final favor and if you have a single ounce of decency left in your heart, it's a favor you'll grant.\"\n\nDoraux paused as Lorio barked a spate of derisive laughter. \"You audacity is astounding, Islena...that you would actually ask that I do something for you out of consideration in light of all that you have done to me. Still, it might be amusing to hear you plead.\"\n\n\"Release Arminda and Gillian. If it gratifies you to see me plead, then I will. I have no pride before you.\" She fell to her knees before the hybrid with her lovely face turned up into the pouring rain and her arms spread like a supplicant.\n\nLorio scowled and averted her eyes in disgust. \"These meaningless gestures of humility don't impress me in the least. They're superficial and self-serving...like most everything else you do.\"\n\nDoraux ignored the acerbic barb. \"I'm appealing to whatever humanity is left in you, Lorio, to allow Gillian and Arminda to go free. Your quarrel is with me and me alone. No matter how Myrhia has attempted to alter your nature, I refuse to believe that she's succeeded in turning you into a complaisant dog. You know what she is doing is ineffably vile. You know that as certainly as you know that the old Lorio would rather have died a thousand deaths before she would have taken any action that would benefit the enchantress.\"\n\nIslena thought she could glean a slight flicker of pain in the inscrutable depths of Lorio's alien eyes and felt a spark of optimism in response. This was not a malevolent killing machine, fuelled by antipathy as had been the case with poor Marla Holmes. In the case of Lorio, Myrhia's transformation process had not been quite so efficient in that she had failed to completely eradicate the fiercely independent aspect of Lorio's personality. Perhaps it was still possible to salvage a small victory from the dark tragedy of Lorio's corruption. Urgently, Islena continued her desperate entreaty. \"Lorio, of anyone, you know just how brutal and humiliating imprisonment in Myrhia's dungeons can be. Gillian and Arminda have suffered enough. What will be gained by serving them up to the High Queen's torture apparatus? I'll pay for their freedom with my blood. Lorio, please allow them to find Artumas and leave this world with one faint glimmer of hope.\"\n\n\"You are the world's last glimmer of hope, Islena...its final spark and by returning you to Myrhia, I'm about to extinguish both,\" Lorio sneered, but still that shadow of doubt flickered in her eyes. \"Still, if it feeds your vanity to believe that you've perpetuated hope, however false, then I'll allow the Jerhia to go free. Finding Artumas will avail them nothing without their precious savior.\"\n\nWith this, she savagely reached down and jerked Doraux to her feet by the hair of her head, prodding her roughly in the direction where she had left the two Jerhia.\n\nEven as Doraux pleaded for her companions' release, an ambiguous notion took shape in her mind, germinating like a tiny seed that will yield a plant whose form is still too vague to be identified. Snippets of past conversations chased at each other in her mind, like a pack of dogs nipping at each other's tails. Above these apparently random scatterings of thought came the prevailing certainty that Sormias was wrong...she was powerful enough to stop the hybrid, if only she could solve the conundrum that presently mocked her from the shadows of her subconscious.\n\nWith a resounding click, one of these elusive elements fell into place as she recalled Emian telling her that the Dragonsword was merely a conduit...a channel that served to unleash the power that resided in her soul. If the Metocan's assessment proved correct, she need only find another means to channel that puissance.\n\nLorio slammed a forearm across Doraux's broad back, before hauling her upright and pushing her along the path. Absorbed in solving the riddle, Islena barely noticed the abuse or the twisted grin of anticipation that presently adorned the hybrid's lovely face. Continuing with Emian's progression of logic, it occurred to Islena that all she lacked was the means to channel the collective's power.\n\nIt was then that the final element of the puzzle fell into place...her mind harkening back to Arminda speaking of the Zarcyk...the symbolic dagger that represented the individual Lamish soul.\n\nAs they passed into another small clearing, the vague notion of how she might free herself suddenly resolved itself into a concrete plan. The idea was audacious and based entirely on conjecture, but Islena saw it as her solitary hope of vanquishing Lorio.\n\nObliquely, it occurred to her that success would mean Lorio's death, but she quickly fought to keep that realization on the periphery of her consciousness, lest she be undone by consuming grief. Instead, she focused on the mechanics of the act.\n\nLorio drove her fingers into Islena's red hair, which had grown quite long in the course of their odyssey, and jerked her head back with a savage tug, bringing Doraux to an abrupt halt. Islena grimaced against the incisive pain, but doggedly refused to give the hybrid the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.\n\nArminda and Gillian were both seated with their backs to a tree. Gillian's head hung limply on the stalk of his neck and the right side of his face was bruised and misshapen from where Lorio had plunged him into unconsciousness with a single blow. Beside the swordsman, Arminda tracked the pair's approach with a mixture of deep anxiety and a kind of wary optimism. She had been gagged and her hands restrained, but she appeared no more damaged than she had earlier, for which Islena was genuinely grateful.\n\n' _Please let her have the Zarcyk,'_ Islena thought to herself. \"Release them,\" she demanded. \"Allow them to go west and once they're gone, you and I can settle accounts.\"\n\nPerhaps sensing a ruse, the hybrid gazed at the two Jerhia with obvious suspicion, considering the prudence of releasing the pair.\n\n\"Come now Lorio, you have nothing to fear from these two. Gillian's enfeebled and Arminda's a cripple. Even if you weren't a Morticant, you could crush both without breaking a sweat,\" Islena prompted. \"As you've said, their cause is futile, so allow them to chase their shadows.\"\n\nLorio stared intently at Islena for several moments, attempted to divine her ulterior intentions, but Islena kept her thoughts deliberately blank. Frowning, she turned away and loped over to the pair. Bending toward Arminda, she removed the Jerhia's gag and easily broke her restraints with her bare hands. Gently, she assisted the girl to her feet and then dragged Gillian to the edge of the stream, where she unceremoniously dunked the swordsman's head beneath the water.\n\nGrimacing at Lorio's rough treatment of the Jerhia, Islena nonetheless used the distraction to drift over to the ashen-faced Arminda. There was something child-like in her expression of hurt betrayal and it occurred to her that this girl was only nineteen years old...younger than Lorio had been when she was first taken by the darkness. Islena pushed the thought from her mind, knowing that circumstances did not allow her time to ponder the scope of the tragedy in which she had become embroiled. It then came to her that this might be precisely the way that one grew inured to the grief and misery of others...setting their consideration aside in the name of expedience.\n\nShe gripped Arminda's shoulders and shook the girl gently but firmly. \"Arminda, Lorio's Zarcyk, do you still have it?\"\n\nThe girl stared blankly at Doraux for several seconds and then comprehension filtered through. \"The Zarcyk...yes...she didn't take it from me, though I don't know why.\"\n\nAgain, Islena shook the girl briskly. \"Listen, Arminda, Lorio is going to release you. When she does, I want you to drop her Zarcyk immediately behind the west root of the large hardwood tree that stands on the south side of this trail, some ten yards down the path. Lean it against the root in a way that is not immediately obvious...do you understand...my life is going to depend on it.\"\n\nThere was a pained expression on the girl's face as she gleaned some of Islena's intention, but she nodded dutifully. In the next instant, a sputtering Gillian staggered and fell to his knees next to the pair. Lorio rose up beside the fallen Jerhia and smartly kicked him in the ribs, a petulant grin twisting her features. Arminda spat a curse and stepped over the Jerhia swordsman, meaning to ward him against further punishment, but Lorio simply pushed her to the ground with a dismissive flick of a wrist.\n\nIslena intervened by imposing herself between the hybrid and the fallen Jerhia. \"Enough, Lorio. As I've said...your quarrel is with me. Will you allow them to leave?\"\n\nThe hybrid glared down at the Jerhia for several seconds. Watching her, Islena realized that a startling transformation had overcome the Lamish woman, as though exposure had stripped away the thin veneer of civility under which Lorio had dwelled in the time since appearing in Othgol. An alien light radiated from the creature's dark eyes...a twisted gleam that bespoke an endless capacity for cruelty. The cavalier mirth that had characterized the old Lorio had given way to a terrifying new disposition...one of cold calculation and the remorseless execution of purpose. Islena wondered if this process would continue until every last vestige of the passionate woman Lorio had once been was scoured from her soul.\n\nThe hybrid brushed by Doraux and loomed over the two Jerhia, her gaze falling upon them like the cold light of a baleful January moon. \"I will release you on the provision that you leave this place at once. If I see either of your faces again in this lifetime, I will not hesitate to kill you...now go!\"\n\nArminda glanced questioningly to Islena, who merely nodded and instructed the girl, \"Do as she's instructed Arminda. Find Artumas and apprise him of all that has happened in this world and the threat that his wife poses to all of humanity. Perhaps you can entice him to return with you and attempt to undo some of her evil. If he is half the man that I have been led to believe he is, his mere presence should act as a panacea for those left to fight Myrhia.\"\n\nThe Jerhia climbed slowly to her feet and then bent to assist her fallen comrade, who appeared dazed and pain-wracked by his abuse at the hands of the hybrid. Almost pleadingly, she inquired of Islena, \"Are you sure this is what you want, Islena. Leaving you alone with her feels like abandonment of the most craven kind.\"\n\nDoraux stole a brief glance at Lorio, whose expression had darkened menacingly, and then took hold of Arminda's wrist and firmly led her away. \"What I want in the matter is hardly a consideration...it hasn't been from the very beginning, but I'm only just now beginning to realize as much. This is something that has to be done. It is simply required by whatever force is moving this tragic drama. Find Artumas, Arminda.\"\n\nAs she had delivered this entreaty, Islena had positioned herself so that she faced away from the hybrid. Slowly, she mouthed the words, \"The Zarcyk Arminda...remember the Zarcyk.\"\n\nThe girl nodded gravely and began to lead the swordsman in the direction of the path. Islena sighed in relief, fully aware that she was gambling her life on an unsubstantiated instinct. That relief quickly curdled, when Lorio grumbled, \"Arminda, I believe that you have something in your possession that belongs to me.\"\n\nBoth women froze in their tracks and Islena turned back to Lorio, her face a mask of neutrality and feigned confusion. \"You swore to me that you would allow them to leave.\"\n\n\"And so I will, once the Halfling has returned to me what is mine...return the Zarcyk.\" Lorio's voice was hard and uncompromising and Islena could feel her frail chance at hope perishing in the flames of that intransigence. If need be, she would snatch the dagger and risk a direct confrontation, though her chances of beating a Morticant in an open fight were desperately bleak.\n\nAs had been the case time and again, since the outset of this grim trek, Arminda rose to the occasion, demonstrating her talent as a natural leader. When she turned back to the hybrid, her face was composed and determined. \"I will not return the Zarcyk to you, Lorio. You pledged your fealty to me and that is a pledge that I intend to hold you to. If the day comes that you are miraculously liberated from the thrall of Myrhia's evil, I will return the dagger to you with the sincerest delight. Until then, it is mine. If you want it back, then you will have to kill me to get it.\"\n\nLorio's eyes widened in incredulity at the Halfling's temerity and then her expression settled into one of amused derision. \"Very well, keep it if you will. It is a hollow symbol of a flawed and foolish mortal that has long since perished. Kill you, I could, but I think I would derive a lot more satisfaction from watching you attempt to resurrect a dead myth...now Go!\"\n\nSparing one final glance at Doraux, Arminda quickly turned and led Gillian onto the path, literally shaking with relief to be out of sight of the monstrous entity that had once helped her attempt to overcome her infirmity. Once they had passed into the trees, Arminda began to search for the designated tree. Once she located the massive hardwood, she withdrew the Zarcyk from its sheath and placed it in the hollow root on the west side of the trunk, hoping that Doraux would be able to locate it under extreme duress.\n\nThe black handle protruded slightly from the black soil and was scarcely noticeable in the cradle of soft earth. The Jerhia was uncertain about Islena's specific intent, but was sure that the success of Islena's scheme was predicated on Lorio not detecting the Zarcyk's presence until it was in Doraux's hand. Keeping this in mind, she retreated several steps down the path and then began to walk back slowly in the direction of the hardwood. The hardwood concealed the weapon until she drew abreast of the tree. Even then, the handle was only obvious because the Jerhia knew specifically where to look. Had she not, it was probable that she would have traipsed right past the weapon.\n\n'Are you sure, Arminda? Islena's life depends upon it,' a voice whispered in her mind. She drew a tremulous breath, knowing that, in the case of the hybrid and her uncanny prescience, it was impossible to guarantee anything. She turned to Gillian, a bitter sorrow naked in her eyes. Shaking her head, she revealed, \"I don't want to leave her this way...it feels insufferably craven.\"\n\nThe swordsman peered at the younger Jerhia, his pinched expression declaring his own ambivalence. \"Nor do I,\" he remarked bitterly. \"Still, as unpalatable as it might be, instinct tells me that this is a matter that Islena must resolve alone. We will go to Artumas...if Islena survives, then she will join us in time.\"\n\n\"And if she doesn't Gillian, what then?\" Islena demanded sullenly, not realizing that she was expressing anger with a superior for the first time in her life, something which, until her coming of age in the Land of Shades, would have been unthinkable. \"How are we to stand before our people and tell them that we fled like two frightened children, while Islena was killed by one of Myrhia's Morticants?\"\n\n\"If Islena is to die here, I can only answer that providence has decreed it must be so. At any rate, if she is to die, justifying our abandonment will be the least of our problems.\" Arminda grimaced at what she perceived to be a callous dismissal of a woman proclaimed to be the world's savior, but before she could express her indignation, the swordsman had turned and was marching steadily westward. Sparing one final guilt-laden glance over her shoulder, Arminda quickly moved to follow.\n\n3\n\nThe hybrid stood at the head of the path, listening intently long after the two Jerhia had passed out of sight. In her posture of rigid concentration, Islena found that the hybrid resembled a piece of statuary.\n\nThe inevitable question took shape in Islena's thoughts and she winced. Could she truly kill Lorio?\n\nGazing at the dispassionate engine of destruction, posing in the guise of her one true friend, Islena felt confident that she could, if only she could engineer the delicate balance of circumstances that would provide her the opportunity. As if to mock her resolve, a vivid image leapt, unbidden, to her thoughts...a stark portrait of Lorio lying in the green grass, her dark eyes glazed in death and her Zarcyk embedded deep in her left breast. This ghastly image evoked a shudder of revulsion from Doraux and she forced it from her mind. Better to think of what was to come as mechanical steps in a process, with no thought given to the next, until the current action was completed. Only then would she be able to achieve what was required without inhibition.\n\nSatisfied that the Jerhia had left the vicinity, Lorio at last turned to face Doraux, shaking her head in an expression of disdainful incredulity. \"It seems that Myrhia's observation was unerringly correct...what a small and feeble animal mortals truly are.\"\n\n\"Oh how ironic...it's almost laughable that a creature as ignoble as Myrhia would actually render judgments of value on humanity,\" Islena retorted hotly.\n\n\"You've developed a philosophical inclination, Islena,\" Lorio sneered and began to advance upon Doraux, a thread of menace creeping into her athletic posture. Doraux drew a breath to calm her frayed nerves, trying not to dwell on the extravagant risk she was about to take.\n\nThe driving rain continued to beat down upon the pair, steeping the afternoon in dull shadows. As the hybrid approached her nemesis, a wicked grin playing at her lips, Islena willed herself to keep her hands at her sides, defying her natural inclination to meet violence with even greater violence.\n\n\"I'm not going to fight you, Lorio,\" she reiterated flatly. \"Nor am I going to allow you to return me to Myrhia. To do that, you'll have to kill me and I sincerely doubt that your mistress will be pleased if you do.\"\n\n\"Oh, I have no intention of killing you, Islena and I will return you to Myrhia, even if it requires that I drag you by the hair of your head across the entire breadth of the continent.\" The hybrid punctuated this promise by driving her right fist into Islena washboard abdomen.\n\nThe blow was delivered so swiftly that Islena had no time to steel herself against its impact. The air exploded from her lungs and she sagged to her knees, gasping breathlessly as Lorio towered over her with a humorless grin set on her face\n\nIslena slumped forward, her face pressing against Lorio's long inner right thigh, while trying to master her pain and grappling with the dawning realization that this creature could probably kill her with a single blow. To prevent from sliding to her face in the sopping grass, Islena wrapped her arms around the hybrid's legs. Amused by the submissive implications of Islena position, Lorio quipped, \"It's too late to resort to seduction Islena...though Myrhia has promised me that once she is done with you, I may have you to do with what I wish. I'll be far gentler than I'm going to be now.\"\n\n\"If you genuinely believe that, then you are even more gullible and foolish than you were as a human,\" Doraux retorted between retching gasps. \"Myrhia will use you to serve her purpose and once that purpose has been served, she will dispose of you like a piece of rubbish.\"\n\nThe hybrid snarled menacingly and wrapping her fingers in Islena's wet hair, abruptly hauled the shorter woman to her feet, before striking Islena across the face with an open hand that she her reeling towards the stream. With startling agility, the hybrid followed and swept the legs out from under Islena. Doraux fought to retain her balance, but ultimately failed and vanished beneath the warm water in a tangle of arms and legs.\n\nLorio reached beneath the water and pulled Islena up. \"I'm going to give you a taste of the suffering I've endured. Still, if I tortured you for a lifetime, it would not be sufficient to atone for what you've done to me.\"\n\nThen she plunged Doraux's head under the water and held it there until Islena felt certain that her heart and lungs would burst. In the next instant, she was jerked back up into the open air. Lorio repeated this process several times, until finally growing bored with this form of torture...she roughly threw Islena back up onto the bank of the stream.\n\nIslena laid upon the sodden grass, gasping and coughing while Lorio came to loom over her, regarding Islena with an expression of puzzlement and consternation. She delivered a spiteful kick into the thick of Islena's right thigh. Doraux merely grunted and rolled onto her stomach.\n\n\"What's the matter, Islena?\" Lorio taunted angrily. \"Has your rebirth robbed you of your courage...your heart? Where is the formidable woman who bested me in Kornas?\"\n\n\"I...I will not fight you,\" Islena replied around the edge of her pain.\n\nLorio delivered another kick to Islena's thigh and Doraux could feel her leg go numb. With dawning horror, she realized that she may well have miscalculated and in her state of rampant emotions, Lorio could well beat her to death.\n\nShe pushed herself to her hands and knees and turned her face into the warm, soothing rain. Then she staggered to her feet as injured leg contracted into a painful knot and drew herself erect, facing her tormentor defiantly. \"You anger is misplaced, Lorio. I won't deny that what I did to you in Runesholm was despicable and that is something that I'm going to have to live with for the rest of my life. More to the point, I deserve the beating you're giving me...you are entitled to your moment of retribution.\"\n\nLorio snarled and slapped Islena's face, though the blow lacked the efficacy of the first. Doraux's head rolled, but she doggedly retained her balance. She could feel blood welling freely from her nose, but refused to acknowledge it by wiping it away. \"If the roles were reversed, I would be livid with the need to seek revenge and that is why I have no intention of fighting you. If my pain is required to placate your outrage, then ring it from me until you are satisfied, but I only ask that you remember who has done you the greatest injustice. Myrhia raped your soul and planted her dirty seed in your heart, not me. If you take me to her, then you will have served her need and that would be the ultimate perversion of your misery and torment.\"\n\nLorio stepped closer and seized Islena by the throat. \"Am I not her child? Why would you believe that I would revolt against my mistress?\"\n\n\"I know the old Lorio and I know that, no matter what she might have inculcated in her heart, she could never have succeeded in eradicating that spirit. Somewhere inside, the old Lorio lives yet, and the old Lorio would rather have eaten Myrhia's heart raw than allowed herself to be turned into an obsequious puppet,\" Islena insisted vehemently. Lorio regarded Islena through her inscrutable dark eyes. After a moment, she allowed her hand to drop from Islena's neck, inspiring a glimmer of hope that something could be retrieved from this tragedy.\n\n\"The old Lorio is as dead as this pathetic world's hope,\" Lorio intoned coldly and drove her knee into Islena's groin with such force that Islena was actually lifted into the air and flung into the center of the clearing.\n\nThe pain was a huge and consuming thing that left Islena gasping for breath and shaking in agony. She made a futile attempt to rise but found that the faculty of movement had deserted her. Lorio loomed above her like a storm-shrouded sky...regarding her with a quizzical expression set on her lovely face...curiosity intermingled with intense satisfaction. Confronted by this glacial countenance, Islena knew that there would be no quarter from the hybrid. Lorio reached down and gripped Islena's wrist, but Doraux feebly brushed her arm aside.\n\n\"So you would fight me then, Islena?\" Lorio inquired, clearly delighted by the prospect. Islena shook her head grimly and rolled over, closing her eyes as the world swam in and out of focus. She realized that her body would not be able to sustain much further punishment and if she lost consciousness, everything would have been in vain. Pushing her knees beneath her torso, she began to crawl, hooking her fingers into the soft earth and pulling herself along.\n\nLorio stood over Doraux, thoroughly amused by the other woman's torment, but made no move to prevent her from scuttling westward. Following Islena, she stamped down on the defenseless woman's fingers of her right hand, grinning petulantly at the sharp report of snapping bones and the harrowing shriek that tore from Islena's bloody lips. Tears sprang to her eyes and she clutched her broken fingers to her breasts, pressing her forehead into the wet grass.\n\n\"Is this not a fitting ending to your ridiculous journey, Islena...crawling through the dirt like a humbled cur, while the woman, whom you sacrificed in the name of expedience, beats you like an errant schoolboy?\" Lorio demanded. Struggling to maintain consciousness, Islena again began to crawl into the head of the narrow path.\n\nA tiny, dispassionate part of her being observed this dark drama impassively, waiting for the first subtle sign that her theory was rooted in fact. In a dark twist of irony, it had been Lorio who had first enlightened Islena in the mechanics of the change she had undergone the moment she activated the Dragonsword. Beset by misery and despair, Islena had contemplated suicide and Lorio had informed her (with a sadistic glee that had made little sense at the time) that she had been deprived of that craven option the moment she had activated the dormant power of the Jerhia Icon. She had been right on that occasion as the Jerhia collective had intervened to prevent Doraux from doing herself harm. This, combined with Emian's assertion that the power resided not in the sword, but rather within her soul, formed the foundation for the desperate gamble she was now taking.\n\nAllowing Lorio to beat her mercilessly, without the slightest hint of opposition, was tantamount to an act of self-destruction. If Emian's supposition proved correct, the collective should intervene to prevent that grim eventuality...or so she prayed.\n\nLorio watched Islena struggle wretchedly through the heavy rain, gasping in pain as she went. Now, however, her delight was tempered by a burgeoning sense of unease that she could not define. In the hybrid, that disquiet manifested itself as cruelty. Plunging her fingers into Islena's wet hair, she jerked the woman's head back until their faces were only inches apart. \"How does it feel to be tormented, Islena...to be humiliated simply for the amusement of others?\"\n\nDrawing back her right fist, Lorio struck Islena squarely on the right side of her face, rolling Islena onto her back, where she stared dazedly up at the roiling black heavens. Lorio stepped over Doraux and again stamped her foot down on Islena's broken hand. There followed a nauseating crunch of bones as the broken splinters ground together. Lorio continued to press down, grinding her foot on the broken fragments, her eyes gleaming wickedly. Finally, when Islena's screams of silver agony rose up into the raging storm, Lorio released the injured hand and stood back to admire her work. \"When you yield the Dragonsword on Myrhia's behalf, Islena, I suspect you're going to have to do so with just one hand.\"\n\nIslena heard this savage declaration as though from down the length of a long tunnel. Reluctantly, she inclined her head to look at her shattered hand and shivered in revulsion as a feeble moan escaped her bloody lips. The thing at the end of her wrist barely resembled a hand at all. The bones jutted and protruded at every angle, confirming Lorio's assertion that she would be crippled from this day forth. The horrific injury caused Islena's stomach to roll queasily and she abruptly vomited onto the grass beside her.\n\nLorio shook her head in disgust and looked away as the dark flowers that preceded unconsciousness began to bloom before Islena's glazed eyes.\n\nIt might well have ended there and then had it not been for a flickering warmth which sparked to life somewhere deep in the core of her being. Closing her eyes, Islena peered into the distant chambers of her soul, where previously there had been only an impenetrable darkness. There, she found her sisters watching her plight with grim countenances of those who had all endured their moments of pain and humiliation. Guinevere spoke to her then, her modulated tone calm and composed in the way of one who had been galvanized in the fires of perpetual strife. \"You are close, Islena...you who are the best of us...draw upon our strength...feed upon our resolve.\"\n\nSuddenly, through the pain and misery, Islena knew that her gamble would pay its lethal dividend. Some of this newfound faith must have reflected on her face because Lorio grimaced and demanded, \"Is there some aspect of this abjection you find amusing or had the pain finally separated you from your reason?\"\n\n\"I'm never going to allow myself to be taken to Myrhia,\" she croaked thickly. With this fierce declaration, she turned onto her stomach, screaming as her ruined hand dragged across the grass, and resumed her inexorable crawl westward.\n\nLorio hesitated, an alarm braying in her hybrid's mind. For all of Doraux's suffering, this moment of confrontation held none of the sweetness that Lorio had imagined it would. Islena's trenchant refusal to be drawn into a physical confrontation that she would inevitably lose, had robbed the moment of its anticipated magic. This stubborn willingness to passively accept punishment endowed Islena with a certain aspect of nobility that irked Lorio.\n\nCursing, she bound up to Islena and administered a vicious kick to her exposed ribs. Doraux grunted and collapsed onto her face, where she laid breathing in great ragged gasps. Still, she somehow mustered the wherewithal to resume her torturous crawl forward. Raising her head, Islena saw the large hardwood tree less than ten yards from where she knelt and looked to her sisters...that endless procession of past incarnations...for the strength to persevere.\n\n\"Enough!\" Lorio spat disdainfully. \"Since you lack the fortitude to face me, then I'll drag you back to Myrhia and let her do to you what she will. At least if you would have stood against me, I would have retained some degree of respect for the woman I knew, but this submissive acceptance of defeat sickens me. Perhaps killing you would be the ultimate act of kindness.\" Bending down, she seized Islena's left ankle and literally began to drag her back in the direction of the clearing.\n\n\"You're a coward!\" Islena cried with the last ounce of her failing strength. \"You spoke of your thirst for vengeance, but now that the moment has come to extract it, you don't really have the stomach do you? You really are Myrhia's lap dog.\"\n\nLorio stopped and allowed Islena's leg to drop to the grass, astounded by the woman's temerity. Islena gazed up at the hybrid, her face contorted by pain. \"Tell me one thing, Lorio, if you're still capable of the truth...you spoke of being with child...was there any truth to this?\"\n\nLorio glared at Islena, the corners of her mouth drawing down with rage. \"How dare you even broach that subject, bitch?\"\n\n\"Is this the legacy that you'll leave for your child...a woman who betrayed the world in service of its darkest villain? What life do you think it can expect?\" Islena rasped, sensing how her taunting was rousing the hybrid's fury and steeling herself for the inevitable reaction. Lorio's lips parted in a rueful scowl. With the delicacy of a butcher, Islena thrust forth the final acerbic dagger. \"Mind you, with Myrhia's seed lodged in your heart, anything that springs from your womb is bound to be an abomination.\"\n\nLorio threw back her head and emitted an ululating shriek born of pure rage. She fell on Doraux and began to rain blow after blow on her head and shoulders. She lashed out in a blind rage, not caring where her blows struck. The pain was a frightening thing, but Doraux turned inwards, taking refuge in the embrace of her sisters, until Lorio's fury was a distant, incidental thing.\n\nLorio pulled Islena to her feet and delivered a tremendous uppercut that smashed into Islena's swollen jaw and sent her crashing onto her face several paces closer to the hardwood. Lorio followed, landing several clubbing blows to Islena's exposed back. Islena felt something snap in her lower back and responded with a shriek of pain that seemed to drum Lorio out of her fury. She sat back on her haunches and regarded the battered woman, her eyes clouded by confusion and her breath coming in shallow gasps. Disconcerted by her loss of control, the hybrid seemed not to notice as Islena began to pull herself along the path, through the torrential rain, that had now begun to fall with seemingly murderous intent.\n\nWhen Lorio regained her equilibrium and could trust herself to look upon Doraux and not succumb to the murderous compulsion to beat the woman to death, she discovered that Islena had actually managed to crawl another several yards. Islena's upper torso was hidden by the trunk of a large hardwood tree and she had either fainted or dispensed with the ridiculous notion of escape as now she was utterly still beneath the driving rain.\n\nThe hybrid indulged in a tiny smile, believing that Islena had finally given in to the inevitable moment of capitulation. She drifted slowly over to the other woman, relishing her moment of perceived triumph.\n\n4\n\nIslena hooked her good hand into the dirt and doggedly pulled herself along. Imprisoned in an argent inferno of agony, she understood that she had to reach the Zarcyk quickly, while cognizant of that fact that her battered body could endure no further punishment.\n\nPerhaps through divine intervention, Lorio had halted her fusillade of blows and simply knelt, staring vacuously at the rain and gathering gloom. Islena attempted to raise herself to her knees, but was defeated by the strident roar of agony that issued from her lower back, where one of her short ribs had probably been fractured. Islena flopped back onto her face and waited for the spasm to subside. When finally it did pass, she contented herself with simply slithering along the sodden grass like a serpent.\n\nReaching the towering hardwood, she used her good arm to pull herself around the trunk, clenching her teeth as hot tears of torment coursed down her cheeks.\n\nFor one terrible moment, she could not locate the dagger and she feared that Arminda had misunderstood and planted her last slim hope in another location. Islena groaned in frustration, but kept groping through the gloom. At last, her hand settled over the ornate black handle and pulled it free of the clinging soil, resisting the temptation to cry out in triumph. Instead, she twisted to the right and pulled the dagger beneath her, before rolling onto of it with her torso.\n\nShe hesitated briefly, wondering how much further suffering she could endure, despite her lioness' heart and the encouragement of the women who had once shared her soul. Doubt assailed her then and she feared that she lacked the resolve to do what was required. She closed her eyes and was immediately confronted by a blaze of vermillion light which she recognized as the nebulous manifestation of the Jerhia collective. She twisted her bloody lips into a grin that was closer to a grimace and rasped, \"That's right, you fuckers, I'm going to do it, so if you intend to stop me, you'd better do it now.\"\n\nRaising herself up on the elbow of her injured hand, Islena scooped up the dagger in her good hand, before raising it and pointing the tip directly at her striated abdomen. Steeling herself against the anticipated explosion of agony, she lowered her torso slowly onto the blade. The only sound to escape her lips was a sibilant hiss, but otherwise, Islena suffered this last outrage silently, slowly allowing her body to settle deeper onto the length of cold steel.\n\nLorio approached Islena slowly, suddenly chilled by a vague disquiet that vexed the hybrid. She had no logical reason to feel this anxiety...indeed this should have been a moment of pure jubilation. Surely this humbled woman at her feet posed no threat to her and yet she could not shed the impression that something was about to go horribly, irreversibly wrong. Shaking her head in disgust, Lorio strode over to Islena and prodded her muscular right thigh with her worn boot. \"The charade is over, Islena,\" she intoned gently. \"It's time to return to your mistress.\"\n\n5\n\nThrough the raging surge of her misery and the gathering of the collective's dormant might, Islena's external sense became preternatural...incisive to the point where every single drop of rain that fell reverberated in her skull like a timpani. Lorio's lithe step resounded in her ears like the rumbling of an earthquake.\n\nIf this wild gambit was to succeed, her timing would have to be impeccable. Lorio's brutal beating had left her body ravaged and badly broken. If she was fortunate, fate would provide her with a single opportunity and should she miss or Lorio detect her intent, all of her suffering would have been for naught.\n\nShe heard the hybrid speak, though her utterance was lost in the general clamor of the gathering forces. The light kick, however, rolled through her beleaguered flesh like thunder. Closing her eyes and pressing her face into the wet grass, she forced her body completely onto the blade. This time she was unable to stifle the scream that tore from her lips like a primal howl.\n\nLorio hesitated, her flesh rising into great hackles as the cry rose up to the heavens.\n\n\"Islena, what have you done?\" Lorio demanded in a voice shrill with mounting panic.\n\nReaching down, she gripped Islena's left shoulder with the intention of turning her over. What occurred next happened with such swiftness that even the quicksilver reaction of the hybrid was insufficient to avoid what was to follow.\n\nDoraux twisted around in Lorio's grip and surged toward her tormentor. Lorio saw that her eyes were now completely silver, radiating an effulgent glow that she had come to associate with the Dragonsword. Islena's bloody face was contorted into a horrifying mask of triumph and feral glee. Lorio perceived the flash of vermillion the instant before an incisive pain flared beneath her left breast. There followed a massive eruption of pure energy that surged through her lean body, turning the muscle to stone as the hybrid stiffened to resemble a piece of statuary.\n\nIslena bellowed an inarticulate wail of triumph and forced the dagger deep into Lorio's heart, allowing the Jerhia puissance to flow, unrestrained, through her body. They remained in this position for several moments...Islena propped up on her ruined hand, while she held the Zarcyk and Lorio kneeling beside her with a comical expression of shock adorning her beautiful face. Finally, when she reasoned that the die had been cast, one way or the other, Islena closed the aperture of power and fell back on the grass, grinning and crying in pain at the same time. Lorio inhaled sharply and glanced down to find her own soul Zarcyk jutting from her flawless flesh just beneath her left breast. She attempted to reach for the black handle, but discovered that she was incapable of raising her arms. With this discovery came the understanding that Islena had achieved what was thought to have been impossible.\n\nHer gaze strayed to Islena, whose torso was covered in gore and whose joy was beginning to subside into the burning waters of pain.\n\n\"You've killed me, Islena, but then a part of me always knew that you would,\" Lorio managed, her voice little more than a sigh. \"I...I never would have done this to you. No matter how much I've come to revile you, I never could have killed you.\"\n\nWith this, her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed onto her face, beside Doraux, her long left arm flung over Islena's torso. Islena pushed it off with a cry of revulsion.\n\n\"I've done it...can you hear me, Myrhia...even your monster couldn't kill me,\" Islena raged at the tumultuous heavens.\n\nShe inclined her head to one side and seeing Lorio's exquisite face pressed lifelessly into the grass, the full ramifications of her actions fell upon her like an avalanche. True, she had succeeded in destroying the enchantress' abomination, but she had also killed the woman who had devoted her life to keeping Islena safe...who had tried to protect her at the expense of her own soul.\n\n'Yet another pays the ultimate price on your behalf,' a voice whispered. Islena recognized the scornful voice of the enchantress and was suddenly suffused by grief.\n\n\"Oh God, Lorio...I'm so sorry,\" she wailed and rolled onto her back, allowing the falling rain to wash her face clean of the encrusted blood. Her initial exuberance had yielded to a black despair. What had she, in all candor, achieved other than the murder of the one woman who had been her constant companion since the first days she had come to this wretched world.\n\nIn the depth of her shame, it suddenly occurred to her that this hollow victory over Myrhia's Morticant might prove to be the final black irony. Her hand was a horrible ruin and something had been fractured in her lower back. It was not unthinkable that she might be unable to walk. Yet even that grim prospect paled in comparison to the very real possibility that she might bleed to death. The self-inflicted wound was deep and she had no means to close it, though the trickle of blood from the gaping wound was oddly languid. Virtually helpless, she could do nothing other than lay upon the sodden earth, staring up at the roiling heavens while the life seeped out of her.\n\nHot tears of sorrow welled up in her eyes then, intermingling with the falling rain. As nightfall descended upon her, she contented herself with whispering a prayer for each of those who had fallen so that she might reach this dismal end.\n\nIn the moments before unconsciousness swallowed her into the void, Islena cast a vile curse on the iniquitous creature who had engineered this tragedy.\n\n6\n\nThe woman upon whom Doraux had leveled her novice's curse was presently winding her way through the foothills of western Jerhia, which led down to the now barren banks of the fabled Hiberas River. Behind Myrhia, there followed a legion of inscrutable Morticants, who were oblivious to the frigid ravages of the mountains, and the remains of the Imperial Army, who were not so fortunate as to be immune to the elements.\n\nThe column descended the last slope which led onto the river plain and every mortal present breathed a sigh of relief. The prospect of crossing over into the Land of Shades did little to lighten the Army's mood, but anything was preferable to the cold torture of their trek through the mountains...or so they believed.\n\nAdriatus left his place at the head of the army and rode forward to join the enchantress, who led the procession as a matter of course. It had been two weeks since the carnage at Iythyx, but the Emercian was still unable to exorcise the harrowing images of the slaughter from his guilt-ridden mind. Though many of the Jerhia had managed to escape into the deeper caverns, where thankfully, Myrhia had no interest in giving chase, still thousands had perished in the collapse of the ice crystal. Many others had been systematically slaughter by the roving Morticants that the enchantress had dispatched into the caverns. Adriatus was grateful that she had left this distasteful duty to her monstrosities.\n\nHe cantered his mount into position next to hers and she spared him a brief glance, making no effort to disguise her impatience and disdain for her High Commander. It was clear that his presence was an unwelcome intrusion upon her thoughts as she addressed him in a tone of ice and steel. \"There is something you require, Adriatus?\"\n\nThe High Commander shook his head, though his expression conveyed hints of inner turmoil which the High Queen immediately recognized to be the tiresome pangs of conscience. Sighing, the enchantress prompted, \"Say what you feel you must, Adriatus. Allow me to be your mother confessor.\"\n\nThe veteran hesitated, not certain if the High Queen was mocking him or merely expressing her customary disdain for everything around her.\n\n\"My Queen, I am deeply troubled by what transpired in Iythyx,\" he began and then faltered at the sight of the shadow that slipped across her lovely countenance as a thunderhead might slip across the sun.\n\n\"Are you questioning my judgment in dealing with the Jerhia, Adriatus?\" she demanded menacingly.\n\nThe Emercian High Commander hastened to assure her that he was not and she uttered a derisive chuckle. Her dark eyes shone bewitchingly beneath the mantle of raven hair, set off by a hood trimmed in silver fox. The High Queen imparted the impression of royalty embarking on a winter tour of one of her distant provinces much more than a woman who was about to enter the most dreaded and mysterious region in the known world. \"I'm most intrigued, Adriatus...do proceed. I grant you the boon of speaking without fear of repercussions on this one occasion.\"\n\nThe High Commander frowned, searching her lovely visage for the slightest hint of deception. Seeing none, he hesitantly gave voice to his misgivings. \"I see no method...no discernible purpose to your campaign of conquest, my Queen. Where, at first, I believed that your ambitions lay along the lines of enrichment...of personal accrual of power and wealth...now I see only a consuming thirst for...distraction and the incomprehensible pleasure of desecration. Some years before you came to Emercia, I escorted the former king...\"\n\nAdriatus hesitated, warily gauging the High Queen's reaction, knowing that Myrhia would not suffer the utterance of her husband's name in her presence. Her expression remained inscrutable and after a moment, the veteran soldier continued, \"I escorted the High King on the first state visit to Natzurdan in over two centuries. I lack the words to adequately describe the beauty of Amberdias or the profound impact which it had upon me, when I first set eyes upon it. Now, in the aftermath of its conquest, the city rots like a desiccating corpse. The destruction of the natural wonder of Iythyx is a tragedy of such magnitude that it nearly robs me of my ability to breathe. If we pursue this wanton destruction of every natural treasure that this world holds, what shall you gain through victory? To my baffled mind, it seems that you will have gained absolute dominion over a moldering corpse.\"\n\nAdriatus stopped abruptly and averted his eyes to the ground, suddenly overwhelmed by his own catastrophic vision. When he again raised his head, a scornful scowl sat upon the enchantress' face. \"Never did I imagine that it was possible to rise to such a lofty position in the Queen's army and still harbor such a disgustingly sentimental, sensitive disposition. Iythyx I destroyed because it was strategically prudent to do so. In fact, to allow a huge portion of the Jerhia military to remain intact...if not battle ready...would have been an extremely obtuse thing to do. I can assure you, Adriatus, that stupidity is one quality that will never be ascribed to me. As for your precious Amberdias, its decay cannot be attributed directly to my actions. You see, the Mother has fled before me...just as surely as her simpering sycophants have fled to Metocan.\"\n\nTroubled, the High Commander countered, \"Still, with the extirpation of beauty, what is the point of conquest? Do you derive no pleasure from all of the things you've accrued? If events continue to unfold as they have, all that is worthwhile in this world will have been reduced to dust and shambles.\"\n\nNow the enchantress' contemptuous laughter rolled over the empty plain. When the laugher subsided, Myrhia looked at the veteran flatly and demanded, \"What is it that you think I am, Adriatus?\"\n\nThe Emercian considered the question for several moments, his expression of bemusement intensifying as he pondered her nature. Finally, he admitted, \"Quite honestly, My Queen, I don't truly know.\"\n\n\"And perhaps it is as well that you don't. I suspect that your sensitive soul would be shattered should I afford you a brief glimpse into my true essence. It would be a simpler matter to explain what I am not. Obviously, I am most definitely not mortal. If I agreed to sit passively by and allow you to bury your dagger in my heart, do you really believe that this would end my life?\"\n\nAdriatus shook his head slowly and gravely.\n\n\"Most perceptive!\" she congratulated her High Commander. \"I am not a creature that is subject to normal constraints. Yes, I have laid waste to splendor when it has suited my purpose, but when this war is brought to its inevitable conclusion, it is my intention to create a world of indescribable beauty and splendor. The imperfect beauty of this world will appear mundane and tawdry in contrast to the paradise I will raise once the proclamations are mine.\"\n\nAdriatus attempted to visualize a version of paradise conceived by Myrhia's depraved mind and shivered at the image. Myrhia gleaned his aversion and with a snap of her hand, seized his reins and literally jerked rider and beast closer to her own terrifying charger. \"I discern your doubt, swine and if were it not that I had more pressing matters to address, I'd demonstrate the hazards of losing faith in your queen. There is a salient reality that you had best accept...this world is inhabited by two types of creatures...conquerors and victims. If you do not wish to find yourself in the latter group, Adriatus, you had better be grateful for your position in the first.\"\n\nIn the next instant, a jolt of unbridled energy ripped along the High Commander's left arm and slammed into his brain. Adriatus attempted to scream and pull away, but suddenly found that he was incapable of either speech or movement. \"Now Adriatus, this world will be mine and you may share my vision of its future or serve as fodder for the carrion birds.\"\n\nThe enchantress released her grip on the soldier's forearm and his horse automatically scampered several paces down slope. Shaken and pale, Adriatus warily watched he Queen, who regarded him with a baleful scowl.\n\nIn the blink of an eye, her scowl congealed into a grimace of agony, contorting Myrhia's face into something repulsive and terrifying. The very air around her head appeared to crackle and hiss, shimmering like heat waves along a road on a torrid afternoon in summer. Her head jerked back and her diminutive body stiffened. For one gleeful moment, the High Commander was certain that she would tumble from her charger.\n\nIn the span of a heartbeat, the stiffness drained from her body and the enchantress slumped slightly forward as her chin settled to her chest. When she raised her head, her face seemed pale and her normally limpid eyes appeared to have lost a measure of their luster.\n\n\"My Queen?\" Adriatus inquired hesitantly, surprised by the degree of trepidation that Myrhia's apoplexy evoked. Her slightly disoriented gaze slid to her High Commander and for an instant, her eyes appeared utterly vacant. Then the enchantress blinked and that vacuum filled with a towering rage that turned the High Commander's blood to ice water.\n\nWithout so much as a word of explanation to her baffled subservient, Myrhia spurred her great charger down the grassy slope at breakneck speeds.\n\nHot breath burst from the beast's flaring nostrils, rising to the heavens in great white plumes as the enchantress bent low over its muscular neck. Without hesitation, the contingent of Morticants lopped off to join her. A bewildered Adriatus gaped after the witch and her abominations for a long moment and then signaled for the conventional army to follow.\n\nAs they thundered down the incline and onto the flat, which led to the barren river bed of the esoteric Hiberas, the enchantress struggled to decipher the riddle of what had just transpired.\n\nLike the mighty Hiberas, the nature of the Morticants was a thing of impenetrable mystery to the inhabitants of the High Queen's world. The entities seemed unresponsive...at least, to those who possessed no real grasp of what they truly were and yet this impression was deceptively false. In truth, the Morticants were hyper-responsive...but only to the enchantress. When not being directed, the prototype Morticants seemed insensate only because they were totally devoid of a will of their own. For her part, Myrhia's control of her creatures was eerily precise to a degree where she could assume total control of an individual Morticant should the need arise.\n\nThe mechanics of her relationship with her hybrids was much more complex...more intricate. Both Lorio and the less successful Marla Holmes before her outwardly maintained many aspects of their human characters. Despite her best efforts to completely subjugate it, Myrhia was dismayed to learn that her hybrids retained a certain degree of individuality and autonomy. Consequently, there was always the possibility, albeit slight, that a hybrid might secretly work to fulfill its own agenda. Myrhia perceived this as a defect that she would eventually have to rectify. Once she slipped the bonds of this depressing little world, she would be confronted by entirely new sets of challenges and she would require nothing less than total subservience from her creations.\n\nThe failure with Marla had proven that the creation of hybrids was not without its inherent risks. The woman had been so consumed by hatred that she had been able to resist Myrhia's imposed discipline...with nearly disastrous consequences.\n\nLorio had proven a different matter entirely. Prior to her transmogrification, she had been unruly and impetuous...with virtually no control of her primal emotions. With the inculcation of the hybrid core, the Lamish wench had developed a reticent, inscrutable demeanor that hinted at slyness and covert purpose. To ward against the dangers this presented, the enchantress developed a method of surreptitiously monitoring her hybrids...a permanent psychic link that she could open whenever necessary. This link manifested itself as a blue light in the recesses of her mind.\n\nAs she had been speaking with her sniveling High Commander, Lorio's blue light had abruptly been extinguished. Myrhia spurred her changer down the slope and onto the plain at breakneck pace with three cadres of Morticants following closely, spurred on by a sense of exigency.\n\nLorio's light had been plunged into darkness, a development for which Myrhia could produce no logical explanation...save for the one that was too improbable and terrible to contemplate.\n\nLorio, a creature that by all rights should have been invincible, had somehow been destroyed.\n\nMyrhia grimaced as this horrifying thought took shape in her mind and if this suspicion proved correct, this world now held a power to rival her own.\n\nAssailed by these dark fears and misgivings, Myrhia, one of the three oldest entities in the universe, crossed the Hiberas and plunged into the Land of Shades.\n\nChapter Nineteen\n\n1\n\nThe pain was a pervasive thing...all consuming in its thought-occluding intensity. Yet, in the mists of unconsciousness, it had somehow undergone a shift in quality that she could not entirely fathom. Whereas before, her torment had accosted her in bursts of silver agony that had threatened to drive her mad, now it had abated to manageable levels.\n\nShe could feel annealing warmth gradually suffuse her flesh, slowly working its arcane magic on her damaged body. In the sea of darkness, Islena was distantly aware of a gathering itch that typically accompanied the mending of broken bones and the restoration of torn flesh.\n\n\"What has happened to me?\" she murmured, dimly cognizant of a warm liquid as it streamed over her up-turned face. A part of her mind attempted to produce the answer, but a more assertive portion...perhaps inspired by the dread of what might be divulged...quickly stifled any response.\n\nFrom the depth of her slumber, Islena's face twisted into a scowl of exasperation, but soon these feelings of disquiet dissolved into a gentle flow of warmth that worked to placate whatever it was that presently assailed her.\n\n' _There will be time enough to contemplate all that has come to pass, Islena,'_ a gentle, lilting voice informed her (the voice of Guinevere). ' _For now, concern yourself with images of what yet might come to be...for here, you will find the foundations of your resolve.'_\n\nIslena frowned as the placental rain kissed her battered brow which was steadily moving toward its former unmarred perfection. The speaker's message was ambiguous and yet she instinctively chose to heed the entreaty and allow it to pull her deeper into the dreamscape.\n\nGradually, the awareness of her own body diminished and finally vanished altogether. She found herself floating on swirling winds that were diaphanous and capricious...randomly pulling her un-tethered spirit this way and that. Despite the apparent aimlessness of her journey, Islena felt certain that this meandering had both a definite purpose and destination.\n\nAt last, the eddying darkness brightened marginally and through the gloom, Doraux could perceive shadowy outlines. After a moment, she came to realize that these hulking silhouettes were a distant range of mountains. Brooding and majestic, they rose above a barren, frozen landscape that struck Islena as eerily familiar.\n\nAfter a time, the association leapt to her mind and she shuddered in revulsion. This dreamscape was identical to the desolate wastes of the Blighted Lands, through which she had fled to reach the western continent. It was during this desperate flight that she had strayed upon Runesholm Abbey and unearthed the first icon...the Jerhia Dragonsword.\n\n' _Not straying,'_ the voice of the queen she had once been amended. _'Your path to the Jerhia Icon, while circuitous, was inexorable.'_\n\n' _Where are we going?'_ Islena asked, her incisive gaze sweeping over the snow encrusted plains, which stretched in an unbroken sheet to the ring of mountains that grew steadily nearer. There was a quizzical edge to her query that held no hint of anxiety or apprehension, which spoke eloquently of the trust that she had imparted to her spirit guide.\n\n' _We are moving toward enlightenment,'_ Guinevere returned and Islena could not be certain if she was being deliberately vague or if she expected that her meaning was self-evident. Islena considered pressing for a concise explanation, but then elected to allow the flow of events to reveal its purpose.\n\nIslena converged upon the mountains like a flashing meteor and experienced a brief surge of terror that she might slam into the unyielding basalt with catastrophic consequences. It then occurred to her that she had become an ephemeral entity...this was, after all, a dream...and she could pass through air and stone with equal ease.\n\nWhen finally she reached the mountains, she abruptly veered off, effortlessly maneuvering through the tight, steep passes that separated the ice-capped peaks. Gradually, her pace began to slow, until she found herself hovering over a small mountain gorge, the waters of which poured over a vertical rock face that reminded Islena of a stone gullet.\n\nAs her spirit entity hovered in mid-air, some two hundred feet above the rushing torrent of ice-water, Islena frowned in consternation, unable to discern what might have led her to this rather nondescript location. Peering up and down the length of the pass, into the palpable shadows, she could see nothing of distinction...nothing that could provide her with insight into why her nocturnal journey had led her here. Though the purpose of this astral journey remained obscure, Islena was nonetheless stung by a pang of disappointment at its apparent pointlessness as if she'd been expecting some manner of profound epiphany.\n\n' _Patience, Islena,'_ Guinevere advised, though her words echoed with a hundred other layers...a thousand. _'These shadows conceal more than you can imagine.'_\n\nDoraux grumbled a foul epithet...patience never being one of her fortes...but returned to her scrutiny of the narrow pass and its craggy topography. This time, her gaze penetrated the successive layers of shadow to discover that, set into the rock face, concealed by the fall of ice water was a crude set of stairs that ascended to a spot near the top of the rock face. Here, in the cleft of rock that had been forged by a great upheaval some eight million years prior, lay a barely visible entrance, which led into the bowels of the mountain.\n\n' _Is this where I have to go?'_ Islena inquired warily, not caring for the opening's resemblance to a hungry maw.\n\n' _In time...for now you need only observe what is to follow.'_\n\nConsumed by curiosity, Islena returned her attention to the gloom-shrouded entrance. Instinct informed her that this was not actually the Blighted Lands as she had originally suspected. These mountains were desolate and devoid of warmth, but the pall of hopelessness and futility that hung over the Blighted Lands was not in evidence here.\n\nFor a protracted moment, nothing happened and Islena began to think she had embarked on a fool's errand.\n\n' _Now they come,'_ Guinevere remarked with a hint of reverence in her tone. For several seconds, Islena could not discern what had roused her companion's excitement, but then a tiny flicker of light drew her eye to a point several hundred feet beneath the entrance.\n\nFascinated, she gazed on as that single point of light grew in magnitude until it finally divided into several points of light that she recognized to be torches by the flickering quality of their flame. There were fourteen torches in all, informing her that a fairly large party was converging upon the narrow pass and she had little doubt that the hidden entrance was their final destination.\n\nThe party seemed to hesitate at the foot of the stone steps, which were coated with several inches of ice that would make the ascent treacherous even in daylight. To attempt to mount these stairs in the deep gloom was akin to an act of suicide.\n\n' _I'm not certain that I want to see this,'_ Islena murmured, having borne witness to enough tragic death to fill a thousand lifetimes. The party continued to mill about the base of the steps for several moments, while three members engaged in an animated discussion, their torches dancing wildly in the night air.\n\nHearing the voices, with their high, insectile timber, Islena's heart froze.\n\n' _Ulgaks!'_ she exclaimed, her voice dripping with rancor and aversion. 'Why have you brought me here? These people...creatures...are beastly...terrifying,' she rasped, recalling the failed abduction attempt in Othgol.\n\n' _Should you choose to regard this event from the most superficial perspective perhaps, yet in their unobtrusive way, the Ulgak are every bit as intriguing as their more flamboyant cousins...the Metocan. Harsh judgment of an entire race is a dangerous and ultimately self-defeating thing, Islena.'_\n\nGuinevere's rebuke, though delivered in a placid manner, stung Islena nonetheless. Only her acceptance of its validity prevented her from firing back a mordant response. Instead, she turned her attention back to the obscure bit of drama presently being enacted at the base of the stone steps...trying to determine what relevance it might have to her.\n\nFrom their general agitation, it was clear to Doraux that the party was reluctant to attempt to brave the treacherous steps in the gloom, though it was equally clear that their reason for being here was exigent.\n\nOne Ulgak, who had been engaged in the vociferous dispute with his two comrades, approached and mounted the first step. Cupping his hands to his lips, he raised his head and issued a piercing shriek and though his words were unintelligible to Islena, the carried the distinct tone of an entreaty. He dropped his arms to his sides and the rest of the party moved to join him. Huddled about the first step, they gazed skyward expectantly, obviously awaiting some manner of response to their summons.\n\nDoraux was suddenly cognizant of a gathering puissance...though she possessed no tangible form, she could feel an electric current of power appeared to thicken the icy air of the isolated pass. Suddenly, the icy waters of the mountain stream burst into blinding light, which stung every eye with its magnitude, before settling back to a subdued yellow glow that was still sufficient to illuminate the immediate vicinity.\n\nTransfixed by wonder, Doraux realized that the source of light found its origins beneath the water, which now glowed like a fluorescent bulb. More incredible still, she now discerned that her initial impression of the stairway had been erroneous. The stairs had not been carved into the stone as she had first believed. Instead, an elaborate construction of icy protrusions had somehow been fashioned to provide access to the entrance near the top of the vertical rock face. In this place of perpetual cold, the stairway had remained intact, solidifying over the centuries.\n\nDoraux had no idea how she had come by the knowledge that these stairs had been here for centuries, but this did nothing to attenuate her certainty. This magical place resonated with a strange sense of permanence...of grand, albeit vague purpose.\n\nOnce the Ulgak had adjusted to the appearance of the light, they began to cautiously make their way up the staircase. At the rear of the column came a pair of young Ulgak, who gingerly carried a crude stretcher in which lay an elderly Ulgak woman who was either asleep or unconscious.\n\nThrough the enhanced power of astral perception, Islena found that she could clearly see the woman's face, which was contorted into a mask of pain. Her soft gray flesh hung from her oddly misshapen head and her lips were twisted into a tight, bloodless slash...informing Islena of the one salient fact regarding the woman's condition and her possible reason for coming to the nexus of power.\n\n' _She's dying, isn't she?'_ Islena asked Guinevere.\n\n' _Unfortunately so,'_ Islena's past incarnation confirmed sadly.\n\nThe party of Ulgak managed to gain the top of the ice stairs without incident and stood gazing at the entrance to the mountains interior. Though their facial features were alien to Islena, it was a simple matter to recognize their expressions to be ones of awe, intermingled with dread.\n\nAbruptly, light poured forth from the mouth of the tunnel in an iridescent argent burst which evoked a series of gasps from those assembled. The two Ulgak carrying the stretcher scrambled back several paces and their living burden issued a sharp hiss of pain, which stilled their retreat.\n\nThe sense of expectancy became excruciating, until finally a shadow fell across the arch of silver light and a single figure drifted slowly from the mouth of the cave.\n\nIslena's initial impression of the woman from the mountain was one of tremendous age. The creature was a Metocan...or had been at one time...for now she had ascended into another state of being. Islena could not claim to know a great deal about the Metocan in general, but she did know that they were finite beings. Yet, this woman projected an impression of permanence that could rival the stars which whirled above her. This sense was not entirely derived from her physical appearance. Indeed, on closer inspection, Islena saw that her features were youthful. Yet, in her eyes and facial expression there radiated the light of wisdom accrued over centuries of living and prolonged meditation. Above this, Doraux could also perceive an unflappable serenity and a terrible patience that could only be acquired over the course of several lifetimes.\n\nThe Metocan's serene gray eyes settled on the Ulgak who had led the procession up the staircase. She spoke in a language that Islena could not fathom, though her words flowed through Islena's consciousness like a pacifying balm, evoking feelings of profound contentment and wellbeing. She required only a glance at the crude countenance of the Ulgak to discern that they were experiencing the same comforting sensations. Gone was the aura of grim urgency that had hovered over the party only moments before.\n\nThe apparent leader of the group gestured for the two stretcher-bearers to bring the woman forward. The two quickly complied, gently laying the infirmed woman at the feet of the Metocan, before scurrying toward the back of the group of petitioners. Whatever she might be...shaman, mage or hermit wizard...it was clear that these Ulgak viewed the Metocan with extreme reverence...tempered by a measure of apprehension.\n\nWatching the woman, Islena was convinced that her fears were unfounded. Nothing in her posture suggested the slightest hint of any inclination toward violence. Indeed, the Metocan seemed to be the very embodiment of passivity.\n\nThe Metocan closed her eyes for a moment and appeared to lapse into a state of meditation. Then she opened her limpid gray eyes and peered down at the dying woman who lay at her feet.\n\nTheir eyes met and a current of pure empathy...so intense that the ephemeral Islena hummed with its efficacy. An expression of profound love and compassion stole into the Metocan's eyes...one which banished the ravages of pain from the Ulgak's dim eyes...bestowing the old woman with an aspect of grace.\n\n' _She means to heal the other woman then?'_ Islena whispered and found Guinevere's response cryptic and chilling.\n\n' _After a fashion...healing may assume many forms, Islena, though when considered from the wrong perspective, such acts of compassion may seem something of an entirely different nature.'_\n\nIslena intended to press the queen for an explanation, but the Metocan began to speak, though this time Doraux understood every word she uttered. \"You are weary, sister?\"\n\nThe Ulgak nodded, her face reflecting the immensity of her exhaustion.\n\n\"You wish to pass on then?\"\n\nAgain, the Ulgak nodded without the slightest hint of hesitation. Still, the Metocan persisted, \"You accept this of your own volition...knowing full well that once this ritual is commenced, there can be no turning back?\"\n\n\"Yessss!\" the dying woman managed, though the faltering timber of her voice evoked images of the closing of a tomb door.\n\nThe Metocan nodded and glanced briefly at the party leader, who signaled his concurrence with a tight, anxious nod. The woman stood erect and sighed. \"Very well then...this I shall grant you...\"\n\nSlowly and with great solemnity, the Metocan raised her arms and softly murmured an incantation that was inaudible to Islena. Every eye was instantaneously drawn to the mouth of the cave. After several moments of thundering silence, a brilliant light spilled forth from the cave's interior.\n\nAn orb, radiating a brilliant light that was at once both soothing and exhilarating, drifted into the open air of the pass. To a mystified Islena, there was a stately air to the manner in which the transparent sphere floated through the chilled air.\n\nWith great effort, Islena managed to drag her gaze from the compelling orb to study the faces of the gathered Ulgaks, all of whom were staring at the wonder with rapt attention. Doraux suddenly discerned that she and Guinevere were unseen intruders on a great and terrible moment of passage.\n\nA lithe motion of the Metocan's right arm guided the orb into position mere inches above the dying Ulgak's exposed forehead. The ageless Metocan commenced chanting in a low, rhythmic voice. As Doraux watched the hovering sphere, its delicately curving surface guttered and then flared, eliciting a cry of dread from the Ulgak.\n\nThe Metocan and the dying Ulgak woman did not react to the eruption of light as both had become engrossed in the sacred ritual of release. Incredibly, the sphere began to swell like an expanding bubble until it entirely enveloped the Ulgak. Islena could barely make out the vague outline of the stretcher and the woman within the confines of the orb. In a rapid sequence of expansions and contractions, the light began to pulse, shifting quickly through every color in the spectrum. The pace of this progression continued to accelerate until everyone present, save the Metocan sage, was forced to avert their eyes.\n\nIn the next instant, the air of the pass came alive with a series of harrowing cries that were rife with a raw, but undefined emotion.\n\nAs swiftly as it had first commenced, the light vanished and the orb was again a fist-sized hovering sphere and the pass was plunged into a profound silence.\n\nBoth the pallet and the dying Ulgak woman were nowhere to be seen and Islena correctly deduced that the sphere had absorbed her physical and spiritual essence. Upon the face of the ancient Metocan there now sat an expression that was both solemn and melancholy. The Ulgak, who had led the procession up the ice steps, tentatively approached the Metocan and fell to one knee before her, bowing his head in a gesture of deference.\n\nShe touched his head as though to confer some manner of blessing. Then he rose and without sparing another glance in her direction, departed as quickly as the treacherous descent would allow.\n\nThe solitary Metocan traced their passage with her serene gaze, watching them until they had passed from sight. In the solitude of the clearing, the woman cast an aura that Islena found was unbearably tragic...though she could not say specifically how in any definitive terms.\n\n' _What am I to make of this?'_ Islena inquired of Guinevere in a voice that was tremulous with emotion.\n\nIn an equally somber voice, Islena's past incarnation returned, 'Many lessons have been imparted here, though one, specifically, is germane to you. What is it that you suspect has transpired here?'\n\nDoraux considered this for a moment and replied, _'The Ulgak woman appeared to be dying. I thought she had been brought here to be healed, but it seems that she was given over to some sort of euthanasia.'_\n\n' _Euthanasia...I am not familiar with this term.'_\n\n' _It is referred to as mercy killing. When a person is terminally ill, their life is ended to prevent further needless suffering.'_\n\n' _Islena, this was not what you would describe as euthanasia,'_ Guinevere corrected.\n\n' _I saw the Ulgak woman killed before my very eyes. The force of the orb consumed her completely,'_ Islena contested heatedly.\n\n' _Not so, Islena...what you witnessed was not the absolute and irretrievable end to life, but a mere metamorphosis...ascension to a higher state of existence. The Metocan, and to a lesser extent the Ulgak subscribe to the philosophical concept of ascension.'_\n\n' _Ascendancy?'_ Islena echoed, not caring for the implications of the word...even if she did not entirely grasp it.\n\n' _Ascension is a system of beliefs based on the notion that, by being born, each of us draws away from a greater collective consciousness and becomes an isolated spirit. As one journeys through life, they grow nearer, not to death, but to a reunion with this ubiquitous spirit. The desire to return to this universal unity is ingrained in every Metocan and Ulgak. When the body tenaciously clings to the hollow shell it sees as life, the spirit grows weary for release. The Metocan has merely assisted the natural course of things by guiding the Ulgak through the next step to spiritual repatriation.'_\n\n' _Do you believe in this concept?'_ Doraux inquired of Guinevere and her own personal skepticism was conveyed clearly in her tone.\n\n' _My beliefs in this matter are of no relevance, Islena. The concepts I put forth are instructional only. You may draw from them what conclusions you will, though I will allow that there is a profound insight couched in what you have witnessed here today.'_\n\n' _Then I'm afraid that this has been time wasted as I'm just not getting this grand epiphany. What was the purpose of my coming here? Was this merely a random dream of no significance?'_ Doraux demanded, growing frustrated with this perplexing riddle.\n\n' _The ritual itself is not as important as the thing it revealed,'_ Guinevere replied simply.\n\nVexed, Doraux rasped, _'I still don't understand what you mean, damn it!'_\n\n' _The Icons, Islena...the Jerhia sword, the Natzurdan staff and...'_ Guinevere remarked brusquely, demonstrating a rare hint of impatience.\n\n' _And the orb of Metocan!'_ Islena exclaimed, embarrassed by her failure to ascertain the obvious. \"This ancient Metocan is the keeper of her people's Icon. I'm right...aren't I...you've shown me where I can find the next Icon.\"\n\nMaddeningly, she discovered that the normally expansive Guinevere had lapsed into an uncommunicative silence and in the next instant Islena found herself hurtling back through the void. Even as she was flung through the spirit realm, Islena was delighted to realize that she had committed every detail of the narrow mountain pass to memory.\n\nWhen the moment came, Islena was confident that she could locate the second Icon.\n\n2\n\nThe dream was still vivid in her mind, meticulously recorded on the cloth of her subconscious, as Islena opened her eyes. Above there circled a sky of the most pristine blue, blemished by the slightest hint of turbulence. As she lay there, staring up at the infinite vault of the heavens, it suddenly occurred to Doraux that the turbulent weather had been a harbinger of many of the calamities that had befallen her during the course of her trek across the Land of Shades. She offered a fervent prayer that the flawless sky signified the onset of a period of relative calm.\n\nTaking inventory of her condition, Islena was immediately struck by the absence of pain...a pain that should have been huge in light of the fearful beating that she had suffered at the hands of Myrhia's Morticant.\n\nAn image of the statuesque beauty quickly took shape in her mind, her exotic visage shaped by an expression of comical shock as she gazed down upon the Zarcyk that protruded from just beneath her left breast. This stark recollection roused a piteous cry from Islena, who covered her face with her hands.\n\nShe remained this way for several moments, enfolded in a pall of anguished torment, until finally she allowed her hands to slip away from her face and fall to the sides.\n\nAnother harrowing image came to her then and she raised her right hand, expecting to see a ruined horror of shattered bones and distended flesh. Instead, she found herself staring in wonder at a fully restored hand, which displayed no hint of the previous day's trauma. She flexed her fingers experimentally and was relieved to find there was no hint of lingering incapacity.\n\nSitting up, she realized that her body was entirely free of pain or injury. Along with this realization there came a moment of crystalline revelation so intense that Islena actually gasped in response to its acuteness. She had been healed by a power that she had first believed only existed within the forged steel of the Dragonsword. Her miraculous restoration made it eminently clear that...once awakened...the Icon's puissance had taken up residence within the fortress of her flesh. The Dragonsword was merely an instrument through which the accrued power had been stored...and then released.\n\nShe might still require the Icon when utilizing the collective's power in an offensive capacity, but in matters of health and regeneration, the Dragonsword was not strictly necessary. From this staggering insight came the first steps in the progression toward grasping the mechanics of her ascension...a process through which she would purportedly evolve into a higher form of being. Once she attained this deity-like stature, Islena now intuited that the actual Icons would become essentially redundant. She would be able to harness and unleash the elements of the individual Icons simply by wishing to do so...whether the Icons were in her physical possession or not.\n\nIn that context, the vision of the juggernaut that she had first experienced in Mrs. Normandy's reading parlor assumed a terrible logic. Yet, since Sormias had dropped her into the lake of purification, the prospect of such omnipotence no longer filled her with such atavistic dread.\n\n\"I am not evil by nature!\" she insisted to the surrounding sky and then fresh reminders of Lorio fell upon her like an avalanche. With no prior intention, her eyes were drawn to the spot where she had dealt Myrhia's Morticant the lethal blow and her eyes widened in horrified disbelief.\n\nLorio's body was gone.\n\nBreathing in ragged bursts, Islena sprang to her feet and frantically peered around the clearing for some sign of the Lamish woman's corpse. Her first sickening thought was to conclude that a carrion creature might have dragged Lorio's body away...a notion so repulsive that it caused her stomach to roll queasily, but instinct dismissed this out of hand. The predators that inhabited the Land of Shades were not the sort who would draw distinctions between living and dead prey.\n\nShe was left with no other conclusion but to accept that Myrhia's hybrid had survived its wounding. Shaking her head in abnegation, Doraux considered simply fleeing. Only a deep sense of discipline and composure held her where she stood, though her legs literally vibrated with the compulsion to run.\n\nIf Lorio had survived the stabbing, logic dictated that Islena would now be bound and on her way back to Myrhia. Since she now found herself alone, it could only mean that something absolutely astounding had transpired.\n\nCasting a longing glance at the pathway that led westward, Islena nonetheless started back toward the small clearing where the dark drama had unfolded. She silently made her way back to the edge of the clearing and knelt in the shadow of an ironwood tree.\n\nThere, sitting on the banks of the small stream, sat Lorio. She was positioned with her back to Doraux and her legs crossed in fakir style...holding her Zarcyk loosely in her upturned palms. Something in her posture informed Islena that she had been sitting this way for several hours.\n\nGripped by indecision, Islena watched the Lamish beauty for several moments. Without turning, Lorio suddenly declared, \"It's all right Islena, come out...please, you have nothing to fear from me.\"\n\nAs if to demonstrate that she posed no threat, Lorio absently tossed the Zarcyk over her shoulder. Islena watched, mesmerized as it flew end over end, landing near the trunk of the tree where she knelt. Woodenly, Islena retrieved the dagger and took tentative steps into the clearing as Lorio stood and turned to face the woman who had attempted to kill her.\n\nThe normally olive colored skin was now slightly pallid and the normally luminescent eyes regarded Islena from a face that was shockingly stark in its grim expression. Gone, however, was the inscrutable shadow that had characterized Myrhia's Morticant, replaced by the open and frank gaze that Islena could not recall seeing since before the terrible events at Runesholm Abbey.\n\nThis was Lorio...the true Lorio, restored by the wondrous magic that had somehow allowed her to cheat death.\n\nStill, Islena could scarcely credit or trust what her senses insisted was true. \"Lorio...is it...is it really you?\"\n\nThe Lamish woman glanced briefly down at her body...as if she too was assailed by doubt. \"What was once inside...the thing that made me evil...\"\n\n\"Is gone?\" Islena interjected hopefully, desperately wanting to believe that her drastic action of the previous night might have somehow reversed the thread of injustice that she, herself, had helped weave. Islena grimaced when Lorio shook her head.\n\n\"Not purged, Islena...not precisely, yet altered nonetheless. I am no longer a creature of strictly flesh and blood as evinced by the very fact that I'm standing before you now.\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" an ashen-faced Doraux remarked.\n\nLorio slowly approached a nervous Doraux and placed her hand in Islena's left shoulder. \"When you banished me from your side at Runesholm, I fled blindly into the Blighted Lands...consumed by anguish and confusion. My soul was torn between hatred and profound love. It was in this state of turmoil that Myrhia came upon me. I destroyed her Morticant, Islena...the giant ebony woman who accompanied her to the abbey. In retrospect, I realize that the enchantress deliberately allowed me to kill the hybrid, perhaps thinking that it had outlived its usefulness and that I would be better suited to the task of pursuing you into the CornerStone Nations. The enchantress is an astute and ruthless strategist, Islena.\"\n\nGlancing at Islena, Lorio saw that the muscular beauty had begun to weep. \"Oh god, Marla! Lorio, if you could only begin to see the number of indelible stains on my soul. Marla Holmes was my best friend in my old world. In a way, she was like you...always striving to consider me above herself. I was too self-absorbed to see it then. She was the first who tried to warn me that there was a dark shadow hovering over my life, but I ignored and alienated her. In the end, she paid with her life, mutilated and slaughtered for my stubborn refusal to listen. Obviously, it didn't end there. Myrhia resurrected Marla and turned her into a hateful parody of her mortal self. When it became apparent that the process had instilled an even greater hatred in the hybrid than even Myrhia could control, the enchantress simply disposed of her like a piece of rubbish. Ultimately, Marla's every torment can be laid at my feet.\"\n\n\"Islena, to Myrhia, we are...all of us...disposable commodities, to be used and abandoned as required,\" Lorio reminded the despondent Doraux. \"We wonder how she can perpetrate such monstrous acts of evil and not perish in an eruption of guilt. When Myrhia looks at us, she does not see living, sentient beings with dreams and passions of our own. Instead, she sees an obstacle to be surmounted or a tool to be utilized...like a pile of rocks or a shovel. It's horrifying to think that the difference between a saint and a monster might be attributed to perception alone.\"\n\nIslena absently brushed tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. \"What happened...after you killed Marla?\"\n\nLorio's smooth brow furrowed. \"Myrhia literally tore my heart out and replaced it with a luminescent blue material which she took from the hybrid's body. Then she instructed me to seek you out and bring you to her when the opportunity presented itself.\"\n\n\"Yet, until last night, you never attempted to fulfill her mandate, though there was no lack of opportunities in the last few months.\"\n\nLorio nodded soberly. \"Myrhia's original Morticants were mere extensions of her own will, possessing absolutely none of their own. In the case of a hybrid, the Morticant retains just enough of the mortal personality to allow it to infiltrate and function in its former environment. In my case, there was enough of the true Lorio to prevent the hybrid from fulfilling its objective...at least for a time. When you drove the Zarcyk into my heart and unleashed your puissance...your personal magic...you effectively severed Myrhia's claim on my soul.\"\n\nIslena sighed and gripped Lorio's shoulders. \"Then the old Lorio is back.\"\n\n\"In mind and spirit, yes,\" Lorio replied. Islena's answering frown drew a grin from the Lamish beauty...an expression that segued into bitterness as she explained, \"To become a Morticant, one must die and so my physical body is technically dead...or more precisely, it is not alive. I have not reverted back to a mortal being. Instead, I have become as immortal as stone or water. That is why your ingenious action did not destroy me outright.\"\n\n\"You're telling me that you're immortal?\" Islena breathed incredulously.\n\nNow Lorio's smile became positively radiant. \"Essentially, yes. I'm certain that there is some power that can destroy a Morticant. That power aside, I have become indestructible, possessing every faculty that the hybrid possessed...only now, I am devoted to consigning that miserable bitch to oblivion.\"\n\nLorio fell silent and the two women regarded each other, both framed in shafts of golden sunlight beneath a pristine blue sky. Quite unexpectedly, Islena loosed a thunderous cry of absolute delight and threw herself into the startled woman's powerful embrace. Lorio held Doraux stiffly for a moment, and then she too, was caught up in the euphoria of the moment. Laughing wildly, the two women danced and whirled around the small clearing like little children who had dared to brave the lair of a terrible dragon and had come away to tell the tale.\n\nFinally, they stumbled to the stream and fell into its cool waters, where Islena suddenly took Lorio into her embrace and kissed her pliable mouth. Peering into those dark eyes, Islena declared solemnly, \"God had delivered you back to me along with an obligation I have every intention of honoring. By returning you to me, Fate has declared that Myrhia's fortune has begun to wane.\"\n\nThen the two women plunged beneath the water, momentarily forgetting the enormous destiny that had been imposed upon the pair.\n\n3\n\nIn the context of survival, the Jerhia was a highly adaptable creature, able to survive under the most inimical circumstances. It was primarily this characteristic that had allowed the race to persevere when most would have perished. A Jerhia could watch dispassionately...never panicking...while their body was ravaged by cold, heat or thirst.\n\nCulturally and philosophically, the Jerhia were limited by strict and inviolable maxims of duty and obligation. Jerhia was a beacon...a spiritual pinnacle for which no sacrifice was too extreme. A Jerhia's perspective and perception of the surrounding world were very often narrow and astoundingly naïve.\n\nTheir world was a place of mountains, pristine rivers, ice, snow and rugged, brooding forests. Everything else was so alien as to be otherworldly. A Jerhia did not relish the prospect of leaving their homeland, though they would do so without the slightest hesitation if so instructed. To surrender one's life on foreign soil, in the name of the greater good, was the most honorable sacrifice an individual could make.\n\nFor Arminda and even Gillian (who was comparatively worldly by Jerhia standards), nothing in their respective experiences could have prepared them for the spectacle of the Great Western Ocean.\n\nTorn by deep anxiety, the pair had trudged westward, pursued by a hounding pack of misgivings. Finally, near mid-day, they reached a steep, grassy incline with the tangy scent of salt water redolent in their nostrils. Staring fixedly at her feet, Arminda had muttered, \"The Ocean cannot be much further.\"\n\nThe words had no sooner left her mouth when she collided with Gillian's broad back. The Jerhia swordsman had come to an abrupt halt and stood gazing out at something over the crest of the rise. The unexpected impact had caused the smaller Jerhia to stumble back a pace or two and she glanced questioningly at her seemingly mesmerized companion. Gillian's attention was thoroughly absorbed in whatever lay beyond the crest of the incline and seemed unaware that Arminda had even collided with him. In an awestruck voice, he remarked, \"It seems we have reached the ocean.\"\n\nArminda's heart leapt into her throat and she scrambled to stand next to her last remaining companion. The panoramic spectacle stretched before her, robbed the young Jerhia of her faculty of speech. Reduced to silent wonder, she could only gaze out over the gently rolling expanse of water that merged with the sky at a common point of convergence on the distant horizon. Arminda's head swiveled on her neck as she slowly drank in that first amazing view of the great western ocean, the vastness of which dwarfed the young Jerhia, leaving her feeling at once infinitesimally small and euphoric. Rippling shafts of golden sunlight danced and shimmered like celestial nymphs over water of the deepest green. Even the miracle of Iythyx lost some of its luster when juxtaposed against the sprawling majesty of the ocean that somehow appeared more like a titanic sentient being than a mere body of water.\n\nArminda took three looping steps down the slope that was covered in a wild tangle of ankle deep saw grass. It occurred to her that she and Gillian were the first mortals (other than Artumas) to have been treated to this incredible view and definitely the first who had traversed the continent from one end to the other. During the tedious hours of their long trek across the Land of Shades, the Jerhia had often whiled away the time by attempting to construct her own mental portrait of what such a mammoth body of water would actually look like. Standing here, she understood how woefully inadequate that image was when compared to the real article.\n\nIn the face of such natural splendor, Arminda could almost convince herself that the turmoil and misery had been worth this single moment of discovery. Yet this profound joy was attenuated by the regret that Emian had not survived to share the moment with her.\n\nWithout warning, her legs folded beneath her and she sat heavily down on the grass and burying her face in her hand, she began to weep.\n\nGillian shifted his gaze to the younger Jerhia, scarcely able to drag his eyes from the thin strand of beach, which reminded him of bleached wood and stretched from the northern to the southern horizon like a twisting ribbon. There was something hypnotic in the way the waves broke lazily over the shore. He had traveled the known world, from the Hiberas to the verdant forests of Emercia and Fairmarch, but the known world's beauty had never moved him as deeply as the ineffable beauty of this vast ocean and its pristine green waters. Arminda's pained reaction to this natural miracle both startled and unsettled the normally unflappable Jerhia.\n\nHe knelt beside the archer and put a tentative arm around her trembling shoulders. \"What troubles you, Arminda?\"\n\nSlowly, she dropped her hand and turned her bruised and abraded face to her superior. Her red-rimmed eyes radiated anguish like heat from a fire. \"So much has been sacrificed to bring us to this particular juncture in time...so many lives irretrievably lost. Emian deserved the opportunity to behold such glory and yet he was denied by the cruelest twist of fate...killed by the very woman he'd endeavored to protect. The gross injustice of this sickens my heart and makes me wonder how fate could be so malefic? What is the point of living...of struggling to persevere...when every hope can be so thoroughly and swiftly crushed by a seemingly arbitrary whim?\"\n\nGillian nodded his commiseration. Had he not pondered long and hard on the inherent unfairness of destiny over the years? In the end, he had reached the conclusion that such contemplations were futile and best left to the philosophers. He told Arminda as much and she nodded sullenly.\n\nUnexpectedly, she reached out and clutched his wrist, her fraught expression churning with raw anguish and guilt. \"Gillian, were we wrong to abandon Islena? She is the very hope of the world and yet we merely crept away like skulking dogs.\"\n\nThe Jerhia pondered this for a long moment, his customary grin relenting to a perplexed frown. \"Quite frankly, Arminda, I cannot say with any degree of certainty.\"\n\nArminda reacted to this admission with a sour grimace and averted her eyes. Sensing her dismay, Gillian quickly added, \"What is your sense of Lorio's true nature?\"\n\nArminda glanced up at the swordsman and her ice blue eyes were rimmed by purple bruises, which she had suffered at the Lamish woman's hands only days before. \"Lorio can be cruel and incredibly savage, but until yesterday, I never doubted her fierce loyalty to Islena. The occasions on which she risked her life to save Islena are too numerous to mention and so it is nearly incomprehensible that she has been revealed as Myrhia's pawn.\"\n\n\"Incomprehensible perhaps, but true nonetheless,\" Gillian observed gravely. \"I had my serious misgivings about Lorio from the moment of her improbable appearance in Othgol, but as you correctly observed, never once did she display any sign of treachery towards Islena.\"\n\nArminda's brow furrowed as she watched the exotic dance of the breakers on the shore. \"One question has perplexed me since we left Islena yesterday...why would Lorio wait until we traversed an entire continent before she decided to end her charade? There were plenty of opportunities to abduct Islena during the course of our travels...why now?\"\n\nGillian gently grasped Arminda's right arm and drew her to her feet. Together, they strolled down the gentle slope and made their way to the water's edge, both taking delight in the way the crystalline pure waters lapped at the toes of their worn boots. \"At Runesholm, I had the misfortune of confronting the creature who turned out to be a hybrid Morticant. It was a fearsome beast that possessed all of the power of the original, yet cloaked in the flesh of a mortal woman. Only the power of the Dragonsword prevented this monster from slaughtering the lot of us.\"\n\nArminda arched an eyebrow. \"You believe that Lorio is one of these hybrids?\"\n\nAfter a moment's consideration, the Jerhia nodded resolutely. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then we've as good as delivered Islena into Myrhia's hands,\" Arminda proclaimed glumly.\n\n\"Perhaps not,\" Gillian contradicted. Again the girl glanced sharply at the swordsman's angular face. \"Physically, you and I are ineffective against the thing that Lorio has now become...as you are painfully aware.\"\n\nArminda confirmed this with a tight nod. \"She could have easily killed me had she so desired.\"\n\n\"I suspect that Islena was aware of this as well. On some subconscious level, she must have decided that there was something gravely wrong with the woman who had saved her life in Othgol. Irrespective of her misgivings, Islena Doraux is a fiercely loyal woman and she could not bring herself to acknowledge the dark changes that had befallen her friend...at least, not until yesterday. Our esoteric friend Sormias delivered Islena from the depth of the spider's virulence, but I now suspect that he also did much more than that.\"\n\n\"Islena seemed changed...remarkably focused,\" Arminda remarked, beginning to glean the shape of Gillian's contention, \"more so than at any time since the quest first began.\"\n\n\"Exactly!\" Gillian exclaimed and found that he was pleased by how quickly the young Jerhia had taken up the thread of his reasoning. \"Not only was Islena's poison thoroughly purged, it seemed that the process also surmounted the final obstacles of doubt that had plagued her since the beginning. She has finally succumbed to the siren song of fate and fully embraced her destiny.\"\n\n\"Still, if Lorio is what we suspect her to be, Islena is defenseless,\" Arminda argued. \"Yes, she is an extraordinary specimen, but without the Dragonsword, she is still no match for a Morticant.\"\n\n\"Ah, but I pray that you are hasty in leaping to your dismal conclusion. If my theory is correct, Sormias subjected Islena to some manner of purification ritual...the side-effect of which was this profound clarity and enlightenment. If Doraux cannot overcome a single Morticant, how can she possibly vanquish the enchantress and her hordes of the beasts? I believe that her confrontation with Lorio has been imposed upon Islena by fate as a test of her mettle. Like many of fate's challenges, this one must be confronted alone. Islena understood and accepted this constraint and thus she sent us away. It may seem obdurate, but I would say that if she is incapable of besting Lorio, she is unworthy of the mantle of savior.\"\n\nArminda frowned disapprovingly at Gillian's cold, dispassionate pragmatism. Sensing the girl's ire, he laughed and reminded her, \"The Zarcyk, Arminda...it is obvious that Islena had something very specific in mind when she instructed you to leave it by that tree.\"\n\n\"What possible use could a small dagger be against a creature that is effectively immortal?\" Arminda challenged.\n\n\"We have little alternative but to trust Islena's instinct in the matter, Arminda. She is, after all, a creature of destiny and thus party to the complex and arcane workings of fate,\" the Jerhia declared. Arminda regarded Gillian doubtfully and he beamed a broad smile of reassurance, conveying a confidence that he did not entirely feel. The Jerhia had traveled in Islena's company long enough to know that Doraux was a fallible woman, given to rash acts and desperate gambits. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that Islena was already dead or worse yet, on her way back to Myrhia.\n\nArminda fetched a deep sigh and gazed out over the gently rolling surf. On impulse, she reached down and cupping her small hands together, scooped up a small amount of water, which she splashed over her face. \"I'm glad that you've recovered, Gillian. It's only fitting that you go to the king fully restored. I was never a fitting leader. The mantle made me feel like a beggar posing in the guise of an aristocrat. I'm relieved to be free of it.\"\n\nGillian arched an eyebrow knowingly. \"I would not be so quick to assume that the mantle of leadership will lay no further claims on your future. No Jerhia in the history of our race has had to surmount greater obstacles. I will be the first to attest that you have acquitted yourself in a fashion worthy of the highest accolades our people can bestow upon one of their own.\"\n\nArminda blushed, unaccustomed to such effusive praise. As Gillian watched the young woman, a subtle darkness crept into her expression. \"Yet, for all of our sacrifices, our fate is still not in our own hands. Confronted by such indescribable beauty, I find myself aching only to rest...to swear off quests and gallantry and assume a quiet, solitary life next to this exquisite ocean...just as Artumas may have done. The world is being ravaged by a monstrous evil and I find myself wishing only to turn my back on its suffering and misery and live quietly here, while civilization labors through its death throes. These are hardly the sentiments of a woman worthy of praise and the mantle of leadership.\"\n\nGillian nodded his commiseration. \"Whatever else we might aspire to be, we are, each of us, mere mortals, subject to despair, dejection and disillusionment. The capacity to persevere is a finite thing. There is no immense shame in finally reaching that limit. For the longest time, did Islena not wish to turn her back on her destiny...even though it is inculcated in the fabric of her being? Regard our time here as a respite. We will wait here for a prescribed amount of time and then seek Artumas on our own.\"\n\nThe archer fetched a weary sigh, knowing full well that she would eventually succumb to the demanded of duty and obligation.\n\nJust then, a large shadow passed over the pair and both Jerhia spun around just in time to see Sormias sweep gracefully to a landing just a few feet up the beach from where the pair stood.\n\n\"Hail fellow adventurers!\" he declared grandly in his rich voice, but both Arminda and Gillian could sense the underlying agitation beneath this forced gaiety. His gaze swept the beach several times and finally he demanded tightly, \"Where are Islena and her contentious companion?\"\n\nArminda exchanged uncertain glances with Gillian, who signaled his deference with a slight nod. She did not relish the prospect of relating the events of the past two days, not certain how the Golgar would perceive their actions. His fondness for Islena Doraux was a transparent thing and he might not react well to the news that they had abandoned her to the lethal Lorio. Nonetheless, selecting her words with great care, Arminda recounted the critical events of the past twenty-four hours.\n\nSormias listened intently, his brow furrowing in consternation. When Arminda finally concluded her tale, the Golgar surprised the pair by slamming his fist into his palm and uttering an uncharacteristic obscenity. \"Curse my damnable stupidity. I discerned a deepening of that woman's evil and still allowed Islena to dispatch me elsewhere.\"\n\n\"You were aware that Lorio was not what she appeared to be?\" Arminda demanded, both vexed and stupefied by the notion.\n\nSensing her implicit criticism, he shrugged and grinned sheepishly. \"Forgive me as I am still unaccustomed to the limitations of mortals. I find it thoroughly astounding that you cannot immediately perceive the differences in each other...especially when those differences are so pronounced as they are in the case of Lorio. I do not blame you for leaving Islena. At any rate, you do not possess the requisite power to dispatch a creature of Lorio's nature. I, however, am a different case altogether.\"\n\nThe Golgar readied to leave, spreading his wings like a mammoth bird of prey. Gillian quickly stepped forward and clamped a restraining hand over Sormias' wrist, who regarded the Jerhia with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. \"Sormias, I'm going to ask you to remain here...to allow events to run their course between Islena and the hybrid.\"\n\nThe Golgar considered the swordsman with an expression that suggested he feared that the Jerhia had taken leave of his senses. \"I can't imagine what possible argument could compel me to agree to remain idle while Islena faces Lorio alone.\"\n\nGillian smiled patiently and elaborated, \"I asking you to allow the natural flow of events to run their course.\" With this said, he began to share his theory of destiny and the pitfalls and trials it imposed upon its captive players. \"Knowing Islena as we do, the die is already cast...either she had found the wherewithal to defeat Lorio or she is already dead. With volatile creatures such as these two, there are simply no other options.\"\n\nThe Golgar looked away, his thoughtful regard surveying the vast expanse of flawless beach, which, until today, had never been sullied by human footsteps. To abandon Islena was unconscionable, but there was an irrefutable logic in the human's assertions. Fate was indeed a capricious force that imposed many stringent, yet seemingly arbitrary challenges upon those who were forced to follow its many roads. He closed his eyes, vividly recalling the intoxicating sensations that her touch had aroused. Despite this memory...or perhaps because of it...Sormias opened his eyes and signaled his agreement with a slight nod, though inside, his heart was assailed by accusations of abandonment.\n\nArminda moved closer. \"Sormias, what of Artumas...does he live?\"\n\nThe Golgar's countenance brightened perceptibly. \"Indeed he does.\"\n\n\"You actually spoke to the High King?\" Gillian asked excitedly.\n\n\"Yes...at length,\" Sormias replied. His golden brow furrowed and he observed, \"This may seem odd, but I find it difficult to envision your Artumas as a ruler or aristocrat...much less a High King.\"\n\nAgain, the two Jerhia exchanged bemused glances, both coming to the simultaneous conclusion that, until this very moment, neither had truly believed that Artumas was still alive.\n\n\"Is he well...healthy...sane?\" The barrage of questions issued from the diminutive Jerhia in a frenetic burst as she attempted to envision herself in Artumas' position...relegated to solitude, with only the specter of betrayal for company.\n\n\"He seems perfectly fit,\" Sormias replied with a blithe shrug. \"As for his mental state...who can judge...though he certainly seemed lucid enough? From the tone of our discourse, it would say that he'd almost been expecting me.\"\n\nGillian arched an eyebrow. \"Expecting you?\"\n\n\"Oh, not me specifically,\" he amended with a laugh. \"He did seem remarkably unsurprised by my arrival...as though such visits were a common occurrence.\"\n\nArminda regarded the winged creature thoughtfully. \"His reaction is certainly unusual, given the circumstances. You would think that the arrival of another living being...especially one as unusual as yourself...would have evoked another emotion. Joy at the prospect of deliverance is one that comes to mind.\"\n\nSormias nodded and his golden brow furrowed. \"As I've said, your Artumas seems more suited to the role of a farmer than a fabled leader, though it is held that looks can be deceiving. Still, this man seemed to exude an aura of serenity...the kind that normally comes with immortality. When Islena spoke of this great king, she described a man of immense fire and passion...not the thoughtful, reticent man I've just met.\"\n\nGillian and Arminda regarded each other knowingly and smiled. It was clear that Islena was conveying an image of the king as she would like him to be, for in truth, she had encountered Artumas only in a vision...a medium subject to enormous distortion. \"How did you explain your sudden appearance?\" Gillian inquired. \"Surely he was curious about how you had come to find him?\"\n\n\"Only mildly,\" the Golgar replied, clearly perplexed. \"Instinct informs me that your noble king understands more of the nature of this great quest than I. When I revealed that there were others who were seeking him out and that their needs were grave and their hearts pure, he merely sighed and replied, _'Was it not always thus? My iniquitous Queen, what have you wrought?'_ He then suggested that I guide you to him, quipping that he had no other pressing concerns. Despite the levity, I discern a deep sense of fatalism and anguish in his soul.\"\n\n\"It must not be easy for a man such as Artumas to accept that he has had a hand...however inadvertent...in unleashing this monstrous evil on the world. Surely his soul is torn by guilt.\" Gillian reflected, recalling the legendary figure that he had once met in Emercia. \"Hopefully, he recognizes our coming as his opportunity for redemption.\"\n\n4\n\nIslena and Lorio frolicked in the waters of the stream, where less than a day before, Myrhia's hybrid had attempted to break Islena's spirit. Gone were the inhibitions and guilt that had characterized their first tentative encounter during that first night in Kornas. Both had plumbed the nadir of hatred and darkness to emerge scarred, but unbroken. Reunited, they could find only joy and pleasure in each other's embrace. It was early afternoon, when Islena again pulled on the torn silver garment and the travel-worn running shoes, and the pair began the final leg of their journey to the Great Western Ocean and the once mighty king who had been exiled there.\n\nDoraux stole a brief glance at Lorio's lovely face, delighted that the shadow, which had resided there since her appearance in Othgol, had completely vanished. She could not suppress the exuberant smile that spread across her face like the breaking of sunshine after a protracted period of rain. She was surprised to discover that, at this exact moment in time, her soul was placid and content. The quest seemed a distant thing, as if they were two dear friends enjoying an afternoon stroll in the forest.\n\nFor her part, Lorio felt oddly disconnect and disoriented, like a woman who has just awoken from a prolonged and harrowing nightmare, not quite certain of where she was, but relieved to find herself amongst friends. From time to time, an expression of bewilderment and anxiety would ripple across her face, there and gone in an instant, but Islena was too absorbed in her own feelings of contentment to perceive her friend's inner turbulence.\n\nThe Lamish warrior carried the two pieces of her broken quarterstaff, wielding them as though they were extensions of her own sinewy body, while Islena was armed with Lorio's ebony-handled Zarcyk and Arminda's crossbow. Lorio had provided Islena with a crash course in the weapon's use and Doraux had managed to hit close targets with a reasonable degree of accuracy. Though the forest was alive with subtle movement and sound, the two women moved through the verdant forest unchallenged, for which Islena was genuinely grateful.\n\n\"The tang of salt in the air is particularly pronounced now,\" Lorio declared sometime during the afternoon. Islena turned toward the statuesque beauty as she inclined her face into the gentle breeze and sniffed experimentally at the air. Doraux mimicked the gesture and found that the air was indeed redolent with the scent of salt water. \"We've actually done it, Lorio. We've managed to cross the entire continent and find the great ocean.\"\n\n\"Celebration would be premature at this point, Islena,\" Lorio cautioned and the shorter woman nodded, reluctant to allow pessimism to cloud her buoyant mood. The terrain had settled to gently rolling hills that descended ever westward. Gurgling brooks and streams crossed the countryside like children in search of their creator, the mighty sea. Islena and Lorio were constantly forced to leap across these brooks, some of which were teeming with fish of every conceivable type. Unlike other sections of the kingdom of shades, the pervasive aura of imminent peril was conspicuously absent here and Doraux could feel that prevailing tension begin to seep from her taut flesh. She turned to mention this to Lorio only to find that her companion's face had gone the color of curdled milk and her incisive gaze had glazed over in an unmistakable expression of agony.\n\n\"Lorio?\" Islena inquire softly, to which the Lamish beauty replied by grimacing and collapsing to her knees before tumbling onto her face in the deep grass. Grasping Lorio's shoulders was very much like attempting to take hold of a sack full of writhing snakes. The woman's long muscles seemed to bulge and contract like coiled steel. Islena's first panicked reaction was to conclude that her friend was suffering a delayed reaction to her wounding...perhaps even dying.\n\n' _Oh God, please don't take her from me like this...it's simply too cruel,'_ she prayed fervently as she struggled to turn Lorio onto her back. The Lamish warrior loosed a piteous cry that was rife with agony. It spiraled upon to the pristine sky, raising a flock of startled birds with elegant feathering the colors of emeralds and garnets. Lorio's body was bathed in perspiration and her throat bulged like an over-inflated balloon, the cords in her neck standing out in sharp relief.\n\nIslena clutched her wrists, trying unsuccessfully to repress tears of panic, and cried, \"Lorio...what wrong...what are you feeling?\"\n\nThe woman gazed up at Islena, her large brown eyes ablaze with confusion and naked terror. \"It feels as if my insides are about to burst, Islena. The pain is...by the Goddess...it's unbearable!\"\n\nAnd then she was swept away by another vicious spasm that caused her to curl into a ball and roll onto her side, clutching her lower abdomen. Frantic now, Islena rushed to a nearby brook and dipped a corner of Lorio's bedroll into the cool water.\n\n\"Islena!\" The exclamation was alive with argent torment and fear, bringing Islena back to her fallen friend at a sprint. When her gaze fell upon the prone figure, Doraux came to a skidding halt, her emerald eyes bulging with incredulity. Indeed, now Lorio's assessment of her condition seemed chillingly accurate.\n\n' _Get your composure right this minute, you stupid bitch...or she's going to die!'_ a harsh voice chastised and something in the imperious tone snapped Islena out of her paralysis and a glacial calm descended over her like a Metocan mist. Agraria...the exotic name rose to her mind along with the image of a glacially beautiful, aloof queen with eyes like anthracite. Islena realized that this was yet another of her past incarnations...a ferocious woman who made no allowances for weakness. Kneeling next to the flailing woman, Islena forced Lorio's arms flat to the grass and the voice of Agraria commanded, \"Lay still and let me examine you!\"\n\nLorio's jaws clenched, but something in Islena's frigid, implacable tone gave her the wherewithal to comply. With slightly trembling hands, Islena reached for the frayed edges of the battered brown tunic that covered Lorio's distended abdomen. Pushing the flaps aside and lifting the dirty cotton undergarment revealed an abdomen that was horribly swollen and drum head hard. Of the previous day's fatal wound, there was no trace.\n\nFrowning in consternation, Islena sat back on her haunches and peered intently into Lorio's terrified eyes. \"When you told me that you were pregnant, was that the truth?\"\n\nThe Lamish woman nodded around the edges of her silver pain. Islena pursed her lips, scarcely able to credit what her mind was proposing, but seeing no other plausible explanation for what had befallen her friend. Abruptly, Lorio reached out and grasped Islena muscular left forearm in a painful grip that caused Doraux to wince. \"What I told you in Othgol was essentially the truth. It was Myrhia who first divulged that I was pregnant. You believe that this is somehow related to the child in my womb?\"\n\nEven through her agony, Lorio skepticism was obvious, but Doraux nodded firmly. \"Yes, something in Myrhia's magic must have held the pregnancy in abeyance. When the collective unleashed its puissance through your Zarcyk, it not only exorcised the enchantress' demon, it must also have ended the suspension of your pregnancy. Of course I have no way of corroborating this, but it seems as though your pregnancy must have accelerated to where it should have been at this stage of its normal development.\"\n\nLorio gazed uncertainly at Islena, who smiled reassuringly, though her mind was churning with the myriad of complications that this would create. A pregnant woman, even one as extraordinary as Lorio, would not be equal to the rigors of the Land of Shades and it was impossible to predict how far this odyssey had yet to take the pair. Still, Islena was careful to conceal her misgivings, sensing Lorio's uncustomary vulnerability at this exact moment.\n\nInstead, she held her friend's hand until the last of the tremors had subsided and an ashen-faced Lorio was able to climb to her feet. \"By the Goddess, how cumbersome this is,\" the younger woman declared in bewilderment. \"I suddenly feel as ungainly as an ox.\"\n\nShe glanced down at her protruding belly and suddenly her perspiration-soaked face was transformed into something of indescribable beauty and tenderness. \"A child, Islena...this is the one task to which I feel unequal and yet I feel it growing in my womb...a living breathing being. If anything, this child will augment my desire to see Myrhia and her ilk moldering in their graves.\"\n\nDoraux nodded dutifully, doubting that she could ever see a child of rape with anything other than abhorrence. Lorio offered Islena a gentle, oddly ingenuous smile and inquired, \"How far along would you say my pregnancy is now?\"\n\nIslena cast a quick glance at Lorio's protruding belly and estimated, \"Six months or more. It's hard to believe that it's been that long since our incarceration in Perdwick's dungeons.\"\n\nShe noticed Lorio's grimace, rippling over her lovely face in a flash like a fast flying cloud scudding across the sky on an otherwise flawless afternoon. \"I'm sorry, Lorio...I understand that the dungeons are not something that either of us cares to dwell upon.\"\n\nThe statuesque beauty mustered a thin smile and explained, \"In Othgol, I attempted to rationalize why I intended to see this child to birth. I was under the thrall of Myrhia's evil then, but I am of my own mind now and my conviction has not changed a whit. I am alone in this world...my people and family has been consumed by Myrhia's ravenous evil. If you should defeat the enchantress, you will return to your own world and for all that I have done, I will still be utterly alone...with the exception of the tiny soul that grows here.\"\n\nShe placed a hand on her abdomen and tenderly stroked her belly, Leaving Islena feeling profoundly touched, \"You're an extraordinary woman, Lorio.\"\n\nThe Lamish woman grinned, \"Virago...I believed you called it. It may take a degree of adjusting to this condition, but I swear that it will not deter me from reaching down Myrhia's throat and pulling her vile heart out.\"\n\nNow Islena could not help but be affected by Lorio's exuberance. \"I don't doubt it for a minute.\"\n\n5\n\nIt was late afternoon of the next day that Islena Doraux came to the Great Western Ocean in the company of the woman who had been her constant companion since the earliest days of her exile in this strange, antiquated world. She gazed out over the startlingly green waters and very much like Arminda before her, Islena found herself overcome by emotion. The two women walked hand in hand down to the water's edge and stood silently peering at the distant point where the water and sky became one.\n\nFinally, Islena drew a tremulous breath, and turning to Lorio, Inquired, \"Well, which way do you recommend we go...north or south?\"\n\nLorio peered along both ribbons of dun-colored sand and attempted to gain some intuitive sense of direction, but found that her prescience had deserted her in this matter. \"I honestly don't know. It's so strikingly beautify here that I find myself simply wanting to lay down in the sand and let time wash over me like the breaking of the waves.\"\n\nDoraux nodded her commiseration and fetched a deep, wistful sigh, knowing that her obligation to destiny would allow her no such luxury. She could traverse a thousand continents and believe that she was free, but eventually Myrhia's inexorable engine of ambition would track her down.\n\nJust then, a familiar voice hailed the pair, who both turned to find Gillian and Arminda racing along the beach and waving frantically. Above the, Sormias soared gracefully on the eddying winds. Glancing at Lorio, Islena murmured, \"I believe the issue has been decided.\"\n\nIslena drifted down the beach to greet the trio, who converged upon her with a series of hugs and a barrage of excited questions. Sormias came to land, bowing formally to Doraux. \"I am relieved to see that my good lady is well...despite her accursed stubbornness.\"\n\nShe could clearly discern the mild chastisement in his voice and accepted it readily. \"I'm sorry Sormias. I promised that I would await your return, but I'm afraid that circumstances had plans of their own.\"\n\n\"Ah, the damnable shifts of random fate,\" Sormias sighed and then his signature smile lit his handsome face. \"All is well and you are safe, though I must confess that I'm rather surprised to see your surly companion still at your side.\"\n\nEvery eye shifted to Lorio, who stood detached from the four, obviously reluctant to join the group. Arminda glanced questioningly at Islena, who inclined her head slightly and smiled encouragingly. \"I think you'll find the real Lorio a good deal more agreeable.\"\n\nShe proceeded to recount the tale of her encounter with Myrhia's hybrid and her daring gambit that had saved not only her, but had also managed to release Lorio from the enchantress' snare. The conclusion of the story was followed by an awkward silence and finally Arminda made the first conciliatory gesture toward her former enemy. \"What passed between us is done and I am willing to renounce all past grievances and call you my friend.\"\n\nLorio's intense brown eyes locked on the smaller woman's battered face and abruptly hot tears sprang to her eyes. Groping blindly, she embraced the Jerhia and drew her head into the hollow of her shoulder. \"Of all my transgressions, the pain I inflicted upon you is by far the worst. From this day forth, should you see fit to forgive me, I will be oath-sworn to you.\"\n\nArminda held the other woman to arm's length and nodded solemnly, struggling to keep a tight rein on her own emotions. Lorio frowned and averted her eyes to the breaking surf. \"Do not be too hasty in granting your forgiveness, Arminda. There are darker deeds to confess yet. Islena may, in the thrall of her poisoning, have dealt Emian a mortal blow, but it was I who sped him on the way to the afterlife.\"\n\nThe Jerhia stiffened and seemed about to pull away, but then she fetched a willowy sigh and allowed, \"You are no more responsible for your actions than Islena. Every act of evil must ultimately be traced back to its instigator...Myrhia.\"\n\nLorio bowed to Arminda and then moved to Gillian. \"You I have wronged in other ways through mistrust and jealousy when you were nothing if not noble. I ask for your forgiveness.\"\n\nGillian smiled his disarming smile and extended his right hand. \"It is yours, good lady.\"\n\nIslena clapped her hands and laughed, deriving a clear joy from this rapprochement. Raising her arms, she ran a short distance into the surf. There was something spiritually uplifting about this wondrous beach, with its pristine sands and emerald waters. Turning back to the others, she declared joyously, \"Perhaps this may seem unwarranted, but I truly believe that Myrhia's fortune is on the wane. The five of us have crossed this continent of horrors and despite all that we have endured, we have persevered. To that vile bitch, the five of us must seem like a dagger poised at her throat.\"\n\n6\n\nTo Islena, the next three days seemed more suited to a dream interlude. Each day dawned with a languid beauty that made all cares and concerns seem trivial and remote. Gone were the nagging fears and tensions that had characterized the vast majority of their journey across the shadow kingdom...giving way to a pervasive calm that muted the senses like a mild sedative. The party pressed southward, though at a more sedate pace, often resting for hours if they came across a particularly picturesque stretch of coastline. Doraux was surprised to find that the sense of exigency, that had gnawed at her insides like a maddening itch, had suddenly vanished, making this quest feel very much like a cursory undertaking. She ate, rested and swam in the ocean like a tourist enjoying a tropical paradise.\n\nWith a huge golden sun quickly ascending over the towering cliffs, Islena Doraux finally encountered the man whom she had first seen in her vision many months and another reality before.\n\nThe party rounded a twisting protrusion of rock and there, some two hundred yards further along the shoreline, Islena could see a solitary hut that stood upon the otherwise flawless ribbon of shoreline like a blemish.\n\n' _This place was never meant to suffer human habitation,'_ she mused as she considered the home of a man who had once been the most powerful and respected king in the land. That thought seemed valid enough, for the squat hut, fashioned with uneven logs and a crudely thatched roof, struck her as unbearably ugly. As they grew closer, Islena could make out the solitary figure of a man standing next to the humble dwelling and as they came closer still, Islena realized that this was the man from her vision. His sandy brown hair, which he had somehow managed to keep reasonably short, was flecked with a generous amount of gray as was his tangle of a beard. His honest, open face was oddly disarming...even inviting, though years of exposure to sun and constant wind had turned his skin to something that resembled aged leather. Though not handsome in the classic sense, Islena saw immediately that this Artumas possessed a certain nebulous quality that would evoke sentiments such as loyalty, devotion and even love. Despite the long years of solitude and exile, Artumas appeared unbent. Something in his rigid posture suggested a grim acceptance of Islena's coming as if their meeting was a preordained juncture in the flow of time and destiny. Only later, when Islena unraveled the full depth of their mystifying relationship and its inherent ramifications, would she realized how uncannily accurate this assessment truly was.\n\nFor his part, the former High King of Emercia was staggered by his first sight of Islena Doraux, though he managed to conceal his astonishment behind a mask of well-practiced impassivity. Still, it was impossible not to be impressed by the living spectacle of power and beauty that was now converging upon him. In her obscenely revealing suit of shiny fabric, the woman's muscles danced intoxicatingly with each step she took and she appeared to be the very epitome of raw, boundless power. His mind could not help but draw the sharp contrast with Myrhia, who exuded the initial impression of fragile beauty that proved so lethally deceptive.\n\n' _Ah, but what an enemy you've made for yourself, Myrhia,'_ he thought as he awaited the five.\n\nWhen the group had come to within ten feet of the former king, the other four abruptly stopped and allowed Islena to approach Artumas alone. Her bewitching green eyes held his gaze steadily, conveying a grim confidence and candor that immediately impressed the one time monarch. She came to a stop and surprised everyone by dropping to one knee, bowing her head and declaring, \"Your majesty, I am Islena Doraux. I, along with these brave warriors, have come to you in a time of dire need, humbly seeking your help.\"\n\nEven as she performed this gesture of deference and uttered the entreaty, Islena understood that it was a reverent Guinevere who was now guiding her actions. She could feel the legendary queen's soaring euphoria at again standing in Artumas' presence...could clearly discern the gravitas and accompanying reverberation of ancient forces coming together at a crucial juncture in the endless flow of time's infinite river. Inside her own frazzled mind there raged the dizzying contradiction of simultaneously feeling infinitesimally small and immeasurably vast and consequential...of feeling both a part of and a vicarious witness to a momentous event in the life of the very universe.\n\nArtumas appeared both flustered and embarrassed by this unexpected gesture of respect. Glancing at the others, he nodded a greeting and placing a right hand on Islena's right shoulder, firmly raised the powerful woman to her feet.\n\n\"You may call me Artumas.\" He turned around and gestured toward the small garden that had sustained him over the past seven years. \"Whatever I might once have been, I am now a humble farmer, but you are entitled to share what I have.\"\n\nWith this, he turned and gestured for the others to follow. He then started back toward his squat dwelling on the beach. A bemused Islena glanced back at the others. They, too, wore similar expressions of puzzlement. Shaking her head, Islena followed the man with whom she had shared a thousand moments in time.\n\nChapter Twenty\n\n1\n\nFor the second time in less than a year, the Richards residence had become a focal point for neighborhood curiosity and the inevitable gossip that such curiosity inspired.\n\nBen had spent the entire night of his son's abduction wallowing in grief and self-loathing, struggling to produce a legitimate reason to rouse himself and begin the agonizing process of coming to a torturous accommodation with the horrible reality of all that he had come to discover in the past seventy-two hours. Despairingly, he could think of nothing that would motivate him to turn over and climb to his feet. To do so would be the first stumbling step down the road to acceptance and the need to deal with the aftermath of Myrhia's treachery and his own complicity.\n\nIt would have been preferable to simply lay here until madness and eventual death came to claim him, providing him with a cold refuge from the nightmare his life had become. He was prepared to do precisely that had it not been for Donald's dazed moaning that had jolted him out of his malaise of self-pity, reminding him that he was not the only survivor of Myrhia's carnage.\n\nFeeling as though his limbs had been transformed into useless lead appendages, Richards managed to turn onto his hands and knees and climb unsteadily to his feet. There he stood, swaying like a towering Redwood. Magic...the idea was embarrassingly ludicrous...that is, until you felt its effects on your bones and viscera. Then it became horrifyingly real.\n\nDonald lay exactly where he had fallen when his body had been engulfed by Myrhia's effulgence. Ben recalled the emasculating sensation of helplessness, rage and despair when he first feared that Myrhia had killed his son. She had not and for that one small mercy, he was genuinely grateful, correctly surmising that Myrhia did not display compassion or mercy very often.\n\n\"Dad?\" the boy called, sounding both frightened and confused.\n\n\"I'm all right, Donald,\" Ben assured the frightened child and knelt down beside the boy, cradling him to his chest. \"Are you okay, son? Do you feel pain anywhere?\"\n\nDonald shook his head, his green eyes still slightly glazed. \"No pain...just the pins and needles feeling you get when your leg or arm falls asleep.\"\n\nRichards hugged the boy again and offered a silent prayer that he had been unharmed. \"Dad, that woman...she took Allan, didn't she?\"\n\nNot trusting himself to speak, Richards merely nodded. Donald's eyes narrowed as if he was concentrating on properly articulating a complex association of some sort. \"She has mom as well...doesn't she?\"\n\nRichards did not actually believe that Myrhia was holding Islena Prisoner. If she was, the kidnapping of Allan would have been unnecessary as would have been the elaborate charade that had preceded it. Islena was a fugitive in Myrhia's world...where ever that might be...but now the evil bitch had Allan as an inducement...one that Islena would be powerless to resist. Islena would willingly die for either of her sons and Allan would prove sufficient inducement to lure Islena into Myrhia's grasp. For all intents and purposes, Islena already belonged to Myrhia and so Richards replied simply, \"Yes.\"\n\nThe boy began to weep anew, but even as tears coursed down his cheeks, a smile spread across his face. \"She's alive then, isn't she...mom's alive?\"\n\nThere was a fierce, almost primal joy in the boy's voice and Richards did not have the heart to point out that with an enemy of Myrhia's magnitude, Islena's chances of remaining alive were abysmally slim. Myrhia had a very specific purpose for Islena and if she did not pander to that need, Richards had little doubt that the bitch would not hesitate to punish Doraux for her defiance...through their beautiful son.\n\nThe boy gazed up into his father's eyes, his youthful face intense and somber. \"What are we going to do, dad? How are we going to get mom and Allan back?\"\n\nBen could only shake his head in bleak helplessness. In total candor, he had no concept of how to proceed beyond this dismal moment. Myrhia had proven correct on one significant point...quite often knowing the truth did only made matters worse when you lacked the power to influence affairs. Myrhia had taken his family to a place where he...or any other earthly power...could not follow or save Islena from whatever dreadful horror the crazy bitch might choose to visit upon her.\n\nHe could not bring himself to consider what she might do to the boy without wanting to scream or drag his eyes from his skull. Richards tried to console his remaining son as best he could and at last, in the final hours before dawn, Donald had drifted into a fitful doze. Ben doubted that he would ever be allowed access to the refuge of dreamless sleep again. It was difficult to believe that as recently as four days ago his life had seemed a place of blissful contentment, where the memory of his wife's disappearance grew less painful by minute increments. Now, that wound had been laid open afresh...its torment exacerbated by the grim fact that Islena and his son were beyond all help.\n\nThe hours had passed by in a torturous crawl as Ben's beleaguered mind produced a hundred variations of Islena's possible plight. Allan, sweet and trusting, had loved Myrhia without reservation almost from the very first and oh how expensive that unconditional love had proven to be.\n\n' _Please don't let her hurt the boy,'_ he prayed, though he doubted that there was anyone to heed his entreaty.\n\nInitially, it had been Ben's intention to heed the enchantress' admonition and do nothing...passively sitting by and allowing fate to run its course. Near dawn, he had fallen into a stupor. He had been roused from this state of half-sleep by a reproachful voice that had echoed through his skull like a howling wind.\n\n' _This is your fault, Richards,'_ the unseen speaker accused in a grating voice that sounded eerily familiar, though Ben could not immediately place it. _'Even Islena's disappearance can be squarely placed on your miserable shoulders. Was her pain and anguish not glaringly evident in the final days before she vanished?'_\n\nThrough the unforgiving lens of hindsight, Richards could scarcely deny that all of the signs of impending disaster had been there. Now, the detractor lashed him with the most scathing recrimination of all. _'If that monumental insensitivity was not enough, you've succumbed to weakness through seduction, bedded by your wife's tormentor like a rutting dog, while exposing your own children to her treachery.'_\n\n\"Stop!\" Richards moaned wretchedly. \"For the love of Christ...stop!\"\n\n' _You've wandered far away from the love of Christ,'_ the voice retorted contemptuously, but then mercifully fell silent.\n\nHe came awake with a cry of dread and despair as the first dull gray light of dawn crept through his window. Feeling as though his limbs were bound by invisible shackles, Ben climbed to his feet and stumbled across the living room, gazing out over the dull empty street. He briefly wondered if this was how the surviving villagers felt after marauders had plundered their village, during the dark ages.\n\nBy mid-morning, Ben decided that he had little recourse but to contact the FBI. It was simply impossible to take up the threads of a normal life as if Myrhia's violation had never occurred. If Allan did not appear in school, questions would inevitably be raised...especially if his absence was protracted. Then, any kind of explanation would become impossibly complex and far less credible...if that was possible.\n\nRichards roused his son and sat the boy down in the very chair where he had confronted Myrhia the previous night. Solemnly, he began to explain what he expected of the both of them...speaking to the boy, not as father to son, but as equals who had suffered through the same ordeal and survived. \"We're going to have to lie about what happened here last night, Donald.\"\n\nThe boy regarded his father questioningly, shocked by his proposed breach of a long held principle. \"I don't...understand.\"\n\nBen gripped the boy's shoulder and leaned closer as if proximity could impart understanding. \"What we're going to do is not lie, exactly...but leave out certain parts of the truth. We both know what happened here last night because we saw it with our own two eyes. Yet, the people who didn't see it...like the policemen who will come...they will never believe it because they don't believe magic is real. You and I know magic is real, don't we?\"\n\nDonald's only response was a somber nod. His mind had never questioned what his senses insisted was real. Richards conjured a hollow grin. \"Good, you see, if we try to tell the police that Myrhia is a magical woman who took both mom and Allan somewhere far away, they'll never believe us. Worse still, they might think that we're deliberately lying because I did something bad to both of them. If that happens, they will separate the two of us. I would have to go to jail and you would end up in a foster home. We can't let that happen because we're all either of us has right now. So just this once, we're going to have to tell a small fib or two...do you understand?\"\n\nAgain, the boy signified his comprehension with a tight nod. \"What do you want me to say?\"\n\nAnd so Ben had concocted the story that they were to tell and then he had summoned the police. While a throng of neighborhood curiosity seekers had milled about on the street, both father and son had recounted their partially fabricated tale of the mysterious, beautiful woman who had come into their lives, posing as a federal agent, and how she had seduced Richards and enthralled his two sons, smoothly insinuating herself into their lives. Later, after Ben had accidentally discovered that she was an imposter, she had revealed that it had been her who had taken Islena and had now come back for the youngest son in an effort to coerce Doraux into an act, the exact nature of which she had not disclosed.\n\nThere had followed five hours of intense grilling, during which the three clearly skeptical...if not openly hostile federal agents had striven to dissect every aspect of the pair's story. Both had stuck to the script without deviation and finally, the frustrated trio had departed in search of the elusive Myrhia La Fey.\n\nAs Richards held his son to his side, watching the federal agents pull into the blustery spring night in search of a specter, he understood that his life would now be lived under a microscope of scrutiny.\n\nGlancing down at his eldest son, he remarked, \"You did just fine.\"\n\nThe boy nodded shakily and attempted to smile, but the expression missed the mark by a wide margin. Ben ruffled the boy's hair and ushered him inside, praying that fate would provide Islena with one opportunity to wrap her powerful fingers around Myrhia's neck.\n\nClosing the door behind him, Ben Richards began to smile with the image vivid in his mind.\n\n2\n\nThe fog held a brooding, oddly furtive quality that Jlarin didn't at all care for as if the damp curtain had somehow become luminous.\n\nHe tightened his grip on his crude wooden spear and drew the spiked club from its leather thong for reassurance. The keeper of the shore found that he was uncharacteristically anxious on this morning, though he could attribute this burgeoning anxiety to no specific cause. He pushed his way carefully through the watery marsh that made up most of the Island's shoreline, leading a small party of islanders on their mission of eternal vigilance.\n\nThe shallow water was turbid along this section of shoreline, providing excellent cover for all manner of water-spawned horrors. To forestall any nasty surprises, the islander constantly probed the marsh bed with his spear, while trying to penetrate the thickening white fog. It had been twenty turns of the season since Jlarin had assumed the responsibility of keeper of the shore, the primary purpose of which was detection of any menace from the dark, haunted lands that surrounded the island. During those years, he had never experienced a time of dark foreboding such as the one that had descended upon the island since the coming of the strangers from the east. The woman had left an indelible scar on the psyche of the islanders...one that Jlarin feared might change his simple and contented people forever.\n\nHe absently wiped perspiration from his bald head with a dirty piece of cloth just as something stirred in the trees off to his immediate right. Jlarin abruptly stopped and dropped to one knee in the cool water, before emitting a piercing whistle that signaled his party to come to an abrupt halt. Another series of rhythmic twitters and a pair of spearmen moved off into the trees to investigate the furtive movement.\n\nThe islanders had developed their own form of terse communication over the centuries of patrolling the perilous shores...a form where words had been replaced by an elaborate system of whistles and screeches which blended with the general cacophony of the terrifying environment.\n\nJlarin drew a quavering breath and forged ahead, silently examining the source of his disquiet. Like all other aspects of island life of late, the keeper found his thoughts straying back to the green-eyed woman, who the keeper was convinced had been a malign specter that had somehow mastered the trick of turning to solid flesh. She had cast an evil enchantment over the people of the island, corrupting their minds with whimsical notions that would inevitably prove disastrous for the simple souls who inhabited the island requiem.\n\nEven Ramad, for all of his pragmatism and wisdom, seemed infected by the woman's gibberish. The very notion that women should be held in equal regard as men was simply too ludicrous to be entertained and yet the leader was now forever expounding the virtues of a more just society in which all members were deemed to be of equal value.\n\n\"Drivel!\" Jlarin shook his head spat in disgust and dismay. A woman had her uses...the keeper would be the last to deny that. Bedding, the keeping of children and a household...these were the things that defined a woman's worth.\n\nThere was another subtle change that had afflicted his people since the strangers' coming. This one, Jlarin reasoned, would eventually prove to be a far greater menace than the notion of assigning women far broader roles in the island society. Suddenly, the younger islanders were beginning to view the east as a place of mystery and not just a repository for nightmares. The keeper could clearly see that capricious twinkle as they turned their gaze eastward.\n\nWhat lands existed beyond the brooding forests and steaming jungles? What of the people and their traditions and cultures...what must they be like? These thoughts had come to beguile many of the younger islanders as they went about their tasks. To the keeper's narrow way of thinking, these fools regarded the east in a way that suddenly supplanted terror with curiosity...a change in attitude that could ultimately prove fatal for the island enclave.\n\nHis people had dwelled upon the island since time out of mind, though no one could accurately estimate how or when they had come to live here as they were not a people given to preserving their history with the written word. Much of their history had thus been lost, while a vast portion of what had been passed down had been warped by time and distorted by the personal bias of the teller.\n\nBe this as it may, the keeper was astute enough to know that his people had persevered in this inimical place by strictly adhering to their code of eternal vigilance and the intransigent observation of their simple social structure. They had been fanatical in their ceaseless scrutiny of the opposite shores of the great lake, eternally on guard against the seemingly endless variety of evil and madness that stalked the forests and jungles there.\n\nYet now, for the first time in his years as keeper, Jlarin could discern a wavering of that resolve. Even the normally prudent Ramad had suggested that the incessant roving shore patrols might be scaled back...much to the keeper's incredulous horror.\n\nEven if there did exist wondrous societies and cultures beyond the great forest...and the keeper still had his trenchant misgivings...that did nothing to alter the fact that the forests and jungles were breeding grounds for all manners of evil.\n\nTo Jlarin's mind, a lack of vigilance was folly of the worst kind. The keeper was a man whose life was founded on one unchanging mantra...complacency was death.\n\nThere issued more furtive sounds in the opaque mists ahead and again the keeper knelt down and signaled the patrol to a halt. For the next several moments, the world was blanketed in an expectant silence, abruptly shattered by strident shrieks of terror and negation that ripped through the fog like a scythe, before relenting to a howl of primal agony. In the next instant, that howl was cut off with brutal finality. Scant seconds later, the harrowing series of cries arose again, and Jlarin understood that the two sentries, whom he had dispatched to determine the source of the sly sounds, had been slaughtered.\n\nSomething lethal had definitely come to the shore and like many of the ghastly inhabitants of this wicked place, that something was intent on more than simply terrifying the islanders. Jlarin pondered the situation briefly, correctly concluding that there was little to be done for his two fallen comrades and thus his first priority must lie in alerting the village to this new menace. Of course, it would be infinitely more helpful if he could identify the exact nature of this new threat, but instinct warned the keeper that his party had wandered into dire circumstances and a hasty withdrawal was in order.\n\nThe long boats were moored perhaps a half league back along the shoreline and thus, the keeper signaled for a rapid retreat. One shrill whistle sent the party racing through the treacherous fog with the sounds of an unseen enemy echoing seemingly all around them.\n\nThe keeper sprinted to the head of the group, desperately urging them on with a series of frantic gestures and shrill whistles.\n\nThe terrain rose slightly at one point along the path and the surviving party members raced into a stand of stunted pines, which forced them into single file formation. Inside this corridor of trees, the aura of looming danger and dread became palpable matched only by the thickening gloom through which the islanders fled.\n\nYet, when the group emerged from the stand of trees, the ubiquitous fog abruptly vanished. Some three hundred yards ahead, Jlarin could clearly see the moored long boats and breathed a tremulous sigh of relief.\n\nHis entire life had been devoted to these moments of intense drama, where the threat of imminent evil and madness was averted by his eternal vigilance. It was in moments such as these that Jlarin, keeper of the shore, found his personal validation.\n\nGrinning fiercely, he gestured brusquely for the others to follow and sprinted out of the trees and into the waters of the marsh, which eventually led to the narrow strip of sandy shore. He had taken no more than a dozen steps, when he suddenly encountered an inexplicable resistance as though the very air had assumed a bizarre elastic quality.\n\nFlicking a bemused glance back at the others and recognizing the same expression of bewilderment on every face. Jlarin took three tentative steps toward the boats and there followed a brilliant blue flash that raised a cry of alarm from the party members, many of whom looked longingly toward the questionable safety of the pines.\n\nThe flash registered in Jlarin's aging retinas and when his frazzled vision finally returned to some semblance of normalcy, he was confronted by something so thoroughly improbable that he could only stand and stare like a child in a trance.\n\nHovering in the air, less than a dozen paces from where he stood, was a diminutive mortal woman unlike any the keeper had ever set eyes upon. Her delicately-boned features and limpid eyes conveyed the impression of fragility, which contradicted the impression of might suggested by the molded ebony armor that covered her torso like a second skin. The keeper found his gaze drawn to the complex intaglio that adorned the breast plate. The unfamiliar arcane symbol filled the keeper with a soul-chilling dread and he knew instinctively that this was the most dangerous creature to ever emerge from the accursed jungle.\n\nDivining the keeper's thoughts, Myrhia quipped, \"A chillingly precise estimate for a simpleton.\"\n\nAt this, the watchers suddenly found themselves encircled by legions of luminous blue monstrosities which floated, ghostly and terrifying, from the swirling fog.\n\nMyrhia glided forward and produced two severed heads from behind her back, her tiny fists wrapped in the black, matted hair as she held them aloft for all to witness. \"I believe you've misplaced these, though I'm afraid it's impossible to return the bodies. My Morticants can sometime be overzealous in the execution of my will.\"\n\nJlarin uttered a low, sickened moan and reeled away from the horrid offerings. In the dim recesses of his beleaguered mind, he was distantly aware of the nightmarish realization that civilization had come to his primitive island.\n\n3\n\n\"The Gods wept!\"\n\nMaroc shook his hair, his fraught declaration inspired partly by despair and partly by disbelief. His eye glass magnified a tragedy far too vast for his mind to assimilate. He passed the glass to Kevlan, who studied the horrible spectacle for all long time without offering comment...for what could one truly say in the face of such an atrocity. Words had lost their efficacy to express outrage in the face of such incomprehensible evil. Wordlessly, he passed the scope to Sygeanor and turned away, though not before the Jerhia had caught a fleeting glimpse of the tears that glistened in his limpid eyes.\n\n\"This is to be expected from barbarians,\" Sygeanor observed with a grunt and folded the eye glass with a petulant snap. Maroc glanced sharply at his companion, suddenly reminded of the carnage she had unleashed on the Abbey of Dornsark.\n\nStill, the slaughter there had been rendered trivial in contrast to what lay at the base of these wretched mountains. The Tier Marshall turned away from the outrage and slid down the snowy slope to his waiting cavalrymen. Sygeanor followed, demanding to know what course of action the flustered Jerhia intended to pursue. Maroc glanced at the mage, privately unsettled by her increasingly churlish nature. \"Patience, Sygeanor...it's taken a month to reach this juncture. Simple prudence dictates that we wait for the few hours it will take my scouts to reconnoiter the area. Then we should have a clearer idea on how to move forward.\"\n\nSygeanor grumbled, her breath raising white plumes in the Redian spring air, and stalked off without remark. Maroc watched her for a moment, sighed in bemusement and drifted over to Kevlan, who knelt beside his pack, rummaging through his meager possessions. He glanced up at the approaching Jerhia, his broad face ashen. \"This place is ineffably vile.\"\n\n\"Such is the world that we have wrought I'm afraid,\" Maroc concurred grimly.\n\nThe intervening time between Sygeanor's slaughter at the isolated abbey and the expedition's arrival at the slave encampment in the remote wilds of central Redia, while onerous, had been mercifully uneventful. Other than exposure to extreme cold and sudden storms, the party had reach Redia uncontested. Even upon entry into the wilds of the lawless northern country, Maroc had been relieved to find that security was exceptionally light, if not non-existent in the northern portion of the country. Evidently the Redians had decided that security was no longer a necessity now that Myrhia held dominion over the entire eastern continent. This premature relaxation of security measures would serve the party well in their initial strikes. Vigilance might well have rendered their task impossible.\n\nTormal had supplied his new allies with an extensive collection of maps and though a good portion of Redia remained uncharted (apparently cartography was not a major preoccupation with the Redian hordes), the map provided sufficient detail to lead them to the most northerly slave encampment.\n\nIn all, fifteen such encampments were spread over the face of the mountainous countryside. Maroc's strategy was predicated on a series of lightening strikes and allowed for virtually no rest and were designed to keep the enemy reeling, even as the expedition dashed to the next target. With divine luck, they might actually succeed in reducing Myrhia's supply of raw materials, if not eliminating it altogether.\n\nOnce the first strike occurred, only perpetual motion would keep them ahead of the Redians, who would probably react to the destruction of the first camp like enraged wasps swarming from a broken nest. The Tier Marshall understood the immense burden he would be placing on his troops, but reasoned that these strikes would inspire those involved to push themselves well beyond the limits of exhaustion.\n\nOnly upon reaching Redia, did the Jerhia Tier Marshall realize just how audacious his strategy truly was. The expedition had already suffered mightily in its trek across the inimical Blight Lands. The cavalry alone had lost a quarter of its horses and the foot soldiers were haggard and bordering on exhaustion. Once inside Redia, the Jerhia was privately disconcerted by the ruggedness of the mountain terrain, which made the mountains of his own country look like gently rolling foothills by comparison.\n\nJerhia was renowned for its mountains and its harsh and inaccessible hinterlands, where only the most knowledgeable mountaineers could survive. Still, there was a distinct and palpable sense of order to the mountains of Jerhia...a natural reflection of the society that lived there. Redia, by contrast, was a wild place where chaos held dominion. Even the stone was raw as if it had just recently been thrust, oozing and visceral, from the birth canal of the great mother. The Jerhia shook his head and turned his wind-burnt face up into the gray sky with its incessant howling winds.\n\nKevlan had been correct in his assessment...this particular outpost of Myrhia's evil empire was indescribably vile. Nestled in the surrounding ring of mountains, which formed a rough circle around the natural basin, the facility of suffering and human misery was an indictment against the very existence of man as a species.\n\nThe basin floor, which the Jerhia judged to be almost a half a league across, was carpeted by thick, foul-smelling mud and teeming with both slaves and their jailors.\n\nA single road led into the basin and here the Redians had made a desultory effort at constructing a gatehouse, which had been conceived with the thought of keeping the slaves in, rather than keeping armed attackers out. Still, this single road was the only point of ingress and it would serve to make the expedition's task of bottling the enemy in all the easier once the assault commenced.\n\nMaroc doubted that the layout of the other mining camps would prove so fortuitous, but he was grateful that the first would allow the expedition to hone its strike technique before facing a stiffer challenge.\n\nIt was imperative that the expedition forces strike and move on, leaving no survivors in its wake. Should the alarm of a hostile presence be raised throughout Redia, the coalition's deadly gambit would be ruined. Maroc scoured his tired mind for a resolution that would avoid a recurrence of Sygeanor's arbitrary slaughter at the isolated abbey, but wholesale massacre seemed unavoidable under these circumstances.\n\nMaroc retrieved his pack and began to rummage through the meager contents in search of the last few remaining cured meat strips which had sustained him through the harsh march. He grimaced as the salt stung the cankerous lining of his mouth, but otherwise displayed no reaction to the process of eating. Like everything else in this bleak place, eating had become a mechanical process that was necessary, but from which no pleasure would be derived.\n\nMaktir and his group of equally dour adepts suddenly materialized out of a stand of blue spruce, just to the north of the expedition's staging area. He was escorted by a group of Emercian cavalry and Jerhia scouts. He strode purposefully over to Maroc...a stolid engine of Natzurdan fundamentalism that made the Tier Marshall desperately miss Morzhian. Though he lacked his predecessor's strength of personality and wisdom, Maktir was a tough, determined man, was who, in his own right, every bit as devoted to the Mother as the great leader had been.\n\nHe stopped before the Jerhia and absently brushed snow from his tangled beard. He did not begin his report until Sygeanor and Kevlan had drifted over to join the pair. It was clear from the Natzurdan's reaction to the Ulgak's presence that she unsettled Maktir, but like everyone else, he seemed to realize that the expedition's eventual success or failure hinged on her actions and abilities.\n\n\"You've found what you were looking for?\" Sygeanor prompted impatiently. It was evident that she was anxious to commence the attack as if this was but another step along the path to an incredible destiny to which only she was a party.\n\nMaktir nodded, his grim countenance darkening all the more. \"Yes...almost directly across the basin from where we now stand, we located a partially buried tunnel that leads down into a large cavern. The cavern is not connected directly to the mine working, but is close enough to suit our purposes.\"\n\nSygeanor nodded, though Maroc still found the entire concept unfathomable. The Natzurdan possessed the ability to detect...and thus map...hollows in the apparently solid bedrock. Along with the other earth-lore wielders, Maktir had developed a remarkably accurate image of the mine's system of drifts and vertical shafts. More beneficial still, they possessed the faculty to locate faults in the rock and it was upon this talent that the coalition's plan was predicated.\n\nWith the Natzurdan ability to transform and then re-form solid stone and Sygeanor's vast telekinetic power, both theorized that it would be possible to liquefy the entire mountain long enough to inundate the drifts and shafts, thus trapping the Morticants in a prison of solid rock. The Jerhia offered a fervent prayer that this audacious claim was not just boastful bluster.\n\n\"I trust that you now have a sufficiently clear image of the internal workings to actually seal the entire mine?\" he inquired.\n\n\"By the mother, I wish that I had not,\" he replied, his tone surly. \"This must truly be the vilest place on the face of this wretched planet. The main entrance, which we see in the basin, branches off into two main drifts that run in both directions, through the ring of mountains. From these two main drifts run hundreds of other small drifts that follow the seams of clay in the faults of the bedrock. Some of these are less than the height of a normal man and snake for miles into the bowels of the earth...deeper than any man was ever intended to burrow.\"\n\n\"How long will it take to accomplish your task once the process begins?\"\n\nMaktir considered this for a long moment, his breath rising in plumes into the frigid air. \"If the claims of his Ulgak's puissance have not been exaggerated, this may take five to ten minutes. Due to the down slope of the workings and the higher position of the caverns, the liquefied stone will have no trouble filling the works...gravity and Sygeanor's power will insure that.\"\n\n\"I have the power, Natzurdan,\" Sygeanor snapped belligerently. \"Don't doubt that for a moment.\"\n\nMaroc placed a placating hand on her forearm and she lashed him with a baleful scowl, which he ignored. \"Once the workings are filled, how long before the rock solidifies?\"\n\n\"The instant we withdraw the flow of energy, the rock will revert to its natural state.\"\n\nThough he was privately skeptical, Maroc did not give voice to his doubts. \"Then all that remains to be done is to move the elements into position.\"\n\n\"Wait!\" a voice protested vehemently and the trio turned in unison to find Kevlan glaring at them, his face set in a rare contentious scowl. Maroc glanced at the normally placid Metocan questioningly. \"It seems that we've conveniently overlooked one element...the victims in the mines who are being employed as slave labor. Who can say how many men, women and children are working the clay seams.\"\n\n\"Hundreds...in all probability,\" Maktir volunteered in a tone that was inscrutable. Kevlan flashed the Natzurdan a sour glance and focused his attention squarely upon Maroc. When he spoke, his voice held a pleading, tremulous edge. \"What we are contemplating is monstrous Maroc...a crime to rival Myrhia's most heinous acts.\"\n\nSygeanor grunted in disgusted. \"We squander precious time with this nonsense.\"\n\nLivid, Kevlan wheeled on the Ulgak and raged, \"With every passing second it becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish between Myrhia's evil and your deepening callous intransigence. Slaughter defenseless monks under the shallow pretext of expedience might be forgiven. The atrocity you are contemplating here is another matter entirely. Do you not see that this wholesale slaughter of the innocent will have to be repeated at every camp?\"\n\nSygeanor's reaction was swift and uncompromising. Like an adder, she drove her index finger into the Metocan's exposed sternum. There followed a blinding burst of intense yellow light and Kevlan found himself being flung across the clearing, landing a few feet below the crest of the slope.\n\nDazed by the force of the impact, he lay panting in the snow, while Maroc and Maktir moved to shield him from Sygeanor's wrath. Through clenched jaws, Sygeanor heaped her derision on the fallen Metocan. \"Your idealism is a misguided impediment to what must be done. The objective of this expedition is and has always been to destroy Myrhia's capacity to produce more Morticants. It is not and cannot be a humanitarian rescue mission. Those two aims are incompatible given our circumstances.\"\n\n\"Cheap rationalizations mean nothing, Sygeanor, because it was never our intention to indiscriminately slaughter Myrhia's victims in the process,\" Kevlan interjected in ragged gasps. \"This unspeakable act will condemn hundreds of innocent people to death.\"\n\n\"You fool...these slaves are already dead...even you must recognize the truth of that,\" the Ulgak spat contemptuously. Kevlan grimaced and glanced briefly at Maroc, whose face was a portrait of miserable ambivalence. Seeing this, the young Metocan could only hang his head in utter despair, knowing that Sygeanor's ruthless pragmatism was going to carry the moment. Sensing that she had bludgeoned the Metocan into acceptance, Sygeanor seemed to derive a measure of delight in pressing her victory. \"These wretches have only one of two possible futures...if we renege, they will die lingering horrible deaths while they toil in the bonds of slavery. If we destroy the mine, they die quickly and without pain...an emphatic end to their pointless suffering. From the lofty pinnacle of your ideals, which end would you grant them Metocan?\"\n\n\"If you kill these innocent people, then you have expended whatever moral currency our cause once held and I pity the unfortunates who are left to live in this odious world...caught between the remorseless millstones of Myrhia's evil and our obdurate pragmatism. We will have become monsters of the same ilk...dressed only in different clothing, but no less cold and murderous for all of our pretensions,\" Kevlan observed bitterly. \"Maroc, don't let the facile logic of her argument cloud your judgment. If you proceed with this abhorrent plan, you forfeit your soul to the same dark force that rules Myrhia's heart.\" He raised a slightly trembling hand and pointed directly at Sygeanor and concluded morosely, \"And hers!\"\n\nMaroc could only turn away as the stark and grizzly image of the basin floor rose, unbidden, to his mind. Even now, he could smell the cloying stench of the great pyres as the greasy black smoke of human immolation rose into the crisp mountain air.\n\nWhen he had first gazed down into this cauldron of horror, Maroc recalled that he had been physically revolted by the sight of teams of Morticants dispassionately tossing corpses into the raging pyres. The bodies had been horribly emaciated and were scarcely recognizable as human. The flames had consumed this human detritus like a ravenous beast. How many had the monstrosities fled into the insatiable maw of the pyre...hundreds? The Tier Marshall could not be certain, but in the end, he had been forced to turn away from this cold, mechanical disposal process that had reduced humanity to the level of rubbish.\n\nThose slaves healthy enough to still dredge out the valuable clay were paraded by the horrible spectacle day after day. The Jerhia could not begin to imagine how ineffably terrible such a fate must be...knowing that the day must inevitably come when they, too, would suffer the same degrading fate.\n\nThe Tier Marshall shuddered and assisted Kevlan to his feet. Quietly, he intoned, \"Sygeanor is right...there is no way that we can rescue the prisoners without risking exposure. We can never lose sight of the fact that we lack the means to vanquish the Morticants. Our only hope is a rapid strike that will entomb them in rock.\"\n\nKevlan regarded the Jerhia with an expression of raw anguish. \"Myrhia's greatest crime is that she has transformed good men into expedient murderers. The saddest aspect of this tragedy is that it is all so unnecessary. A small contingent of Morticants could easily do what thousands of slaves are being driven to achieve.\"\n\n\"And we will stop this travesty, Kevlan!\" Maroc insisted fiercely. \"Those who die here will do so to avert the suffering of those they love.\"\n\nKevlan accepted this facile rationalization with a glum nod. \"We left Metocan with the hope of delivering salvation. Instead, we have become death. In our zeal, we never took the time to consider the implications of our actions here in Redia.\"\n\nWith this, he brushed by Maroc and Sygeanor, returning to his scrutiny of the basin.\n\nFeeling despondent and hollow, Maroc issued orders to his cavalry units, whose job it would be to seal off the main road leading out of the basin. Then he dispatched teams of archers to key positions from which they would rain death down upon the human keepers.\n\nThis done, he turned to Sygeanor. \"We will await your signal and then commence the assault. Once you've completed the ritual, lead your group south and we will rendezvous on the road leading to the next working.\"\n\nSygeanor nodded, clearly anxious to unleash her havoc, and turned away.\n\n\"You were wrong to strike Kevlan,\" Maroc declared quietly. She turned to face the Jerhia, her incisive gray eyes sparkling with curiosity. \"He is right...when this awful ordeal is over and if we should succeed in destroying every mine in Redia, we shall be so befouled by innocent blood that I doubt we will even recognize ourselves.\"\n\nSygeanor's answering grin was a terrible expression that chilled Maroc's heart as she leaned closer. \"If you've lost your stomach for the task, slink back to Metocan and cower behind the Hiberas, where you can wait for Myrhia to come and snuff out your wretched life. Do me the service of taking the gelding with you. I prefer to die with the enemy's throat in my teeth.\"\n\nWith this, she was gone, leaving an unsettled Maroc staring after her in bewilderment. He continued to stare after the mercurial Ulgak until she and her contingent of Natzurdan had vanished into the mountain forests. Then he settled in to wait for each of the players to take their respective places.\n\n4\n\nHigh and eldritch, the stench of death hung in the air over the island, whose inhabitants had held insanity at bay for centuries out of mind. Yet, for all of their vigilance, the islanders had been plagued by mindless manifestations of evil with no clear organized mandate other than savage carnage. In Myrhia, these simple people found themselves confronted by a malevolent creature of near absolute power and boundless ambition.\n\nIt had been a young sentry, stationed on the surprisingly elaborate network of wooden docks, who had noticed the first of the longboats come gliding out of the mist like a ghostly vessel. Thinking that the keeper's patrol had returned, he raised his arms in a gesture of welcome, but had frozen in mid wave when he saw that the boats were aflame. A single mast had been affixed to each vessel along with a t-piece, to which an islander had been nailed. As the boats neared the docks, these gruesome ornaments became ghastly human torches, burning brilliant orange against the rapidly descending dusk.\n\nThe sentry raced for the nearest alarm bell just as a titanic gust of wind rocked the shore line, banishing the blanket of fog in an instant. The boy had managed three pulls on the crude rope, but the alarm bell abruptly fell silent as the sentry gaped in dark fascination at the improbable spectacle unfolding before his bulging eyes. A woman floated across the water, a full ten feet above the wave, swaddled in an iridescent light. To the sentry's gaping eyes, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever set eyes upon. His unblinking regard was drawn to the glowing emerald intaglio that adorned her black breast plate...a spiral that denoted chaos out of order.\n\nBehind him, he could hear the charge of approaching feet, pounding urgently along the heavy wooden planks of the dock before coming to stumbling halts to join him in his incredulous scrutiny of the improbable floating figure. The surrealism of the moment deepened when she raised her slender arms in a gesture of summoning. In response, luminous monstrosities began to emerge from the water...slowly gravitating toward the network of docks in numbers too vast to consider.\n\nMyrhia's Morticants descended upon the island like a plague, overwhelming the hastily mounted defenses the way one might swat down a vexing gnat. Horror followed and an ancient, yet primitive civilization found itself undone in the span of an afternoon after surviving on the very edge of hell for centuries beyond counting.\n\nSuddenly, darkness descended over the Land of Shades like a funeral pall being drawn over a moldering corpse.\n\nAfter the Morticants had secured the island and effortlessly slain the token resistance to their invasion, the human contingent of the enchantress' army had come ashore as if to bear witness to the perverse atrocity that was to follow. The world's greatest architect of misery descended on the village common like a conquering queen come to revel in her enemy's humiliating defeat.\n\nThe horrified islanders were rounded up by the Morticants and savagely herded onto the green, where Islena had suffered her moment of pain and abjection only weeks prior, and were greeted by the revolting sight of Myrhia dragging a dozen heads through the grass of the common. The heads were somehow bound together on a tether of emerald light which appeared to be composed entirely of pure energy. The ashen-faced villagers gazed on in immobilizing terror as the diminutive beauty in her gleaming ebony breast plate trailed her grotesque ornaments across the grass. Most recognized that noble Jlarin was a victim of this demon creature and their terror grew geometrically.\n\nAs the enchantress slowly circled the center of the village common, the front door of the building that served as the islander's seat of government, burst open and a trio of imperial troopers prodded a bruised and ashen-faced Ramad down the steps and onto the yellowing grass.\n\nHis dazed gaze swept the village, his crude features registering a bewildered incredulity at the rapidity with which his island home had been devastated.\n\nThen he focused his attention on the improbable creature who had visited this incomprehensible act of evil on his home and its simple, defenseless people. Unlike Islena, who had radiated power and capability the way the sun gave off heat, the woman before him appeared deceptively vulnerable and fragile. This impression of delicacy was belied by the predatory grin that adorned her lovely face and Ramad instinctively understood why Islena would flee before this woman.\n\nIronically, the guards stopped the village elder in the very spot where the striping platform had stood until recently...the spot where Islena had endured her moment of torment to impart a new sensibility to the islanders. Ramad had ordered that the platform be destroyed, but he had privately feared that there would come a time of atonement in which fate would extract a cruel price for that moment of shame. Gazing upon the angelic countenance of this beautiful stranger, Ramad understood that this moment of expiation...of bloody recompense...had finally arrived.\n\nMyrhia glided forward across the common, coming to a halt before the despondent elder. She held forth the tether of heads and announced, \"I am Myrhia...High Queen of Emercia and mistress ascendant over all the lands of the world. I bring you these as a token of greeting.\"\n\nRamad stared in slack-jawed horror at the gruesome greeting token, his mouth working silently...unable to draw his gaze away from the repulsive display. After a moment, Myrhia allowed the gift to drop at Ramad's feet. \"Such ingratitude...it's obvious that this rabble has never been schooled in greeting a monarch.\"\n\nRamad shifted his gaze to his tormentor, his thick lips twisted in a grimace of revulsion and disbelief. \"What do you want of us...is it not obvious that we have virtually nothing?\"\n\nMyrhia beamed a radiant smile and waggled a rueful finger at the islander. \"You're wrong, my simple friend...so very wrong!\"\n\n5\n\nLess than two hours later, Ramad lay dead upon the common, though his flesh still twitched as if in protest of the atrocity it had suffered beneath the enchantress' cruel fist.\n\nMyrhia had interrogated the bewildered islander and when she came to suspect that he had not disclosed all that he knew, she had simply reached into the recesses of his mind and extracted his memories of Islena's passage through the island.\n\nWhen she unearthed Ramad's recollection of the sorry episode of Islena's striping, Myrhia's face became livid with rage...her large dark eyes blazing like a burning sun.\n\n\"How dare you...you imbecile...HOW DARE YOU?\" she seethed between clenched teeth and in her rage, Ramad resigned himself to his own imminent demise. \"How dare you allow your inconsequential rubbish to raise a whip against her? The coward who marked Islena will never know how fortunate he is that someone granted him the refuge of a quick death.\"\n\nShe eyed Ramad, her gaze fraught with malevolence. \"You, however, will not be so fortunate.\"\n\nWith a petulant twist, she suddenly withdrew her probe from his mind. Ramad abruptly stiffened as his eyes rolled back in his head to expose yellow corneas. In the next instant, he collapsed to the grass directly at Myrhia's feet, where the enchantress looked on dispassionately as the elder's body labored through its protracted death throes.\n\nAfter what seemed like an eternity, the spasms gradually subsided, though the violence of Ramad's passing had been so intense that many of the veins in the elder's face had ruptured. Myrhia spared him one final indifferent glance and turned to summon her High Commander.\n\nAdriatus shuffled reluctantly forward, unable to drag his gaze away from Ramad's horror-stricken countenance, repulsed by the gore that trickled languorously from the dead man's eyes and nose.\n\nHe stumbled toward Myrhia, desperately wishing that he was possessed of the ability of flight so that he could flee this ghastly panorama of carnage. Instinct warned him that what was to follow here would be insufferably vile. Instead, he could only heed his mistress as the acrid stench of death burned his lungs and nostrils. He could feel the palpable weight of every gaze upon him, rife with paralyzing dread, and Adriatus understood that he would share a small measure of culpability for whatever atrocity lay in store for the simple island people.\n\n\"Your majesty?\" he inquired, despising the note of quivering deference in his voice, but helpless to prevent it nonetheless. In the years he had spent in Myrhia's presence, he could not recall seeing her in such close proximity to openly losing her composure.\n\n\"Begin bringing the men to the opposite shore via longboat. Collect half of the provisions and foodstuffs from the islanders and transport them to the western shore as well. I'm assuming that the mercenary rabble hasn't plundered everything of worth already?\"\n\n\"They were warned of your displeasure should they run amok here.\"\n\n\"Scour the island for more longboats and have the men begin constructing rafts so that you may convey the horses to the opposite shore. I fully expect that we will be ready to resume our trek by this time tomorrow.\" The snap of intransigent iron in her tone made it perfectly clear that she would brook no argument or excuse and so Adriatus merely nodded, fully cognizant of his men's nearness to total exhaustion.\n\nThen her eyes assumed a flinty cast and she uttered something that chilled the blood in his veins. \"I would strongly recommend that you close your ears and eyes against what is to follow, Adriatus. I fear it will be too harrowing for your shriveled manhood to endure.\"\n\nShe loosed a chilling laughter and waved him away with a dismissive flick of her wrist.\n\nAdriatus turned and fled on trembling legs as Myrhia issued a series of silent instructions to her ever compliant Morticants. Quickly and efficiently, the luminous monstrosities herded the island's petrified males onto the village common, dispassionately swatting down the few helpless females who attempted to come to the aid of their mates.\n\nAfter a short time, a ragged line of islanders stretched over the entire length of the common, many in close proximity to open panic. Myrhia viewed the assembly process, her lovely face tight, but otherwise inscrutable. When the last of the cowering males had been roughly ushered into position, the enchantress slowly traversed the entire length of the line, her eyes boring into each like needles of pure ice.\n\nEventually, she made her way back to the approximate center of the common and stood for a time, apparently engaged in silent contemplation of the islanders' fate, while the tension gathered like a miasma.\n\nThe enchantress allowed the moment to draw itself out, for it was instants such as this one that she truly relished, when the balance of all power and life was held squarely in the cusp of her tiny palm. Every living being appeared to hold its breath in anticipation of what she might decide. Indeed, to her way of thinking, this was the truest manifestation of genuine power that one could hope to attain...a state of total authority that was deity-like in its purity.\n\n\"So on this island women are mere chattel, are they?\" Myrhia inquired in a tone that was deceptively benign. \"Women are mere vessels of servitude to be manipulated and commanded like fawning lapdogs...ever ready to serve and service the omnipotent male appendage? Well I for one do not accept the inherent superiority of men...not at all!\"\n\nShe stepped closer to a short, bearded man with a slack mouth and narrow set, frightened eyes. She held forth her right hand and as though from the very air, a rope lash manifested in her palm. The last foot of the whip had been knotted, the twisted rope appearing cruel and ugly beneath the featureless night sky. The unfortunate islander, along with every other male assembled, recognized the whip as the instrument of torment that had been utilized to instill fear and obedience in island women since time out of mind.\n\n\"Perhaps you would care to correct my impudence?\" Myrhia inquired, her eyes glistening a deadly invitation as she extended the whip.\n\nThe islander's eyes floated from the lash to the deadly creature who held it and then to his fellow islanders. To a man, they all silently exhorted him to take up the whip and flail the demon bitch to a bloody ruin, but every man simply averted his gaze. Finally, the islander looked away and shook his head.\n\nMyrhia uttered a spate of sardonic laughter and then length of rope erupted into flame. She held it aloft until the yellow and orange tongues of fire had engulfed her delicate hand. After a moment, she threw the charred remains to the ground with a dismissive flick.\n\n\"As I expected,\" she intoned, her melodic voice dripping with venomous contempt. \"It is an easy matter to terrorize those who are unable or unwilling to raise a hand in their own defense. Sweet misguided Islena attempted to demonstrate this in her own self-sacrificing way. I, however, am not so circumspect, nor so gentle. If your women are so thoroughly cowed as to allow that they be bullied and abused like domestic animals, that is their misfortune. Yet, when you dared to lay hands upon Islena Doraux, you risked destroying the delicate tapestry that I have labored so long and diligently to weave. That, I will most definitely not tolerate.\"\n\nNow her grin became positively malevolent. \"If your misguided sense of masculinity spurs you to such folly, then I see no recourse but to divest you of that impetuous appendage.\"\n\nMyrhia made a barely perceptible gesture with her right hand and suddenly each of the male islanders found themselves in the powerful grasp of a Morticant, who ripped the clothes from their backs until all stood naked before the High Queen.\n\nShe gazed at their rugged, squat bodies and sinewy limbs, which seemed oddly incongruous with the bodies from which they protruded. She inhaled the sharp tang of their collective fear as if sampling the finest of wines.\n\nAcross the High Queen's hip lay an ebony scabbard from which she unsheathed her short sword. The keen blade had been honed to a razor's edge and gleamed wickedly, even beneath the moonless night sky. She again approached the man to whom she had offered the whip. He began to tremble violently and struggle in the grasp of his captor. At the sight of the blade, he began to blubber an inarticulate plea for mercy.\n\nSlowly, Myrhia brandished the weapon so that its tip danced mere inches from his right eye, which had widened to comical proportions. Her smile became feral as she wielded the blade with the deftness and precision of a master swordsman. She continued to grin as an expression of dumbfounded incredulity spread over the man's face, giving way to one of consuming horror as his gaze settled on the bloody stump of his severed penis, which mocked him from the grass of the common.\n\nShriek after shrill shriek peeled from the emasculated islander's lips, until, irritated by his strident howls of agony, Myrhia flashed her blade in a savage arch, permanently sealing the cries off behind the wall of death.\n\nWith a measure of satisfaction, she watched the headless body fall to the grass.\n\n' _Twice beheaded,'_ she thought, amused by her own witticism. She then turned to face the congregation of island women.\n\nShe scrutinized the faces of the huddled mass of women and on many of the worn faces she recognized the fierce expression of retribution churning in many of the dull eyes. With a mere thought, she floated into the air and drifted toward the group, where she dropped her sword onto the grass before them.\n\n\"I now offer you the chance for emancipation from the yoke of subservience,\" she declared in a formal and solemn tone. \"On this night, you can take control of your destiny. These men have subjected you to ineffable degradation by reducing you to the status of farm animals. At your feet lies the means to vehemently reject the role of the subservient. Now, who among you has the courage to give expression to the outrage I see burning in every eye?\"\n\nMyrhia fell silent, gazing steadily down on the island women from her lofty perspective. The atmosphere became steeped in an expectant tension as the future of a civilization hung in the balance. Then, one brown-haired woman, for whom life had become a ritual of fear, harsh discipline and humiliation, loosed a visceral shriek and snatched up the sword. She charged her husband, who appeared stricken by terror in the face of the engine of vengeance that now bore down upon him. Myrhia applauded the woman's fury as she swung the blade and hacked wildly at her husband's exposed groin, severing his manhood and burying the blade bone deep in his left thigh.\n\nThe Morticant released the islander and he fell with an agonized cry as his dark red blood muddied the grass. Maddened by blood lust, the woman wrenched the sword free and proceeded to systematically dismember the man who had once shared her bed. Dazed and panting, she turned and offered the bloody sword to the next aggrieved wife.\n\nThere ensued an evening of carnage and rampant slaughter the likes of which had never been witness on the peaceful island as years of repression and abuse erupted into a frenzy of mindless retribution...with no thought to the consequences. When this frenzy of anger had at last played itself out, less than five percent of the island men were left alive. Delighted with her handiwork, Myrhia addressed the gore-spattered women. \"You have reclaimed your freedom. Now you must build an enclave over which you will be masters. First, you must select a queen...a woman with the strength and courage to guide and lead you to your rightful place. These men, you shall breed and cull...employing them as slaves when they are not engaged in providing your people with legions of female babies upon which to build your future civilization. To insure that you are safe to pursue this goal, I will leave behind six of my children to ward you against the dangers you might face and teach you the skills necessary to master your new world...your new reality.\"\n\nThe air reverberated as the island women erupted in roars of unequivocal adulation...chanting the name of their deliverer with wild abandon.\n\n6\n\nThe corpses were arranged in a great pile and put to the torch. As they went about this grizzly labor, the liberated women chanted the enchantress' name.\n\nAmused by the carnage she had wrought...Myrhia viewed the proceedings and conferred her blessing upon the new queen. The dull, flat-featured woman privately struck the enchantress as hopelessly vapid, but in consideration of those over whom she would rule, Myrhia was satisfied that the dullard would suffice.\n\nWhat she had really engineered was the eventual extinction of a civilization that had existed longer than any of the more advanced civilizations east of the Hiberas...and as always, she had done so by turning their inherent weakness upon them so deftly that they were blithely unaware of what had been inflicted upon them.\n\nThen she left the city to supervise her army's crossing to the western shore of the great lake. As the longboats and hastily constructed rafts sailed out into the darkness, the High Queen commended her insidious genius in create a legion of zealots, who would someday do her bidding if the need arose.\n\nChapter Twenty One\n\n1\n\n\"All that I have striven to achieve has been reduced to ash...an ugly jape,\" Artumas lamented softly as his fey gaze looked out over the pristine green waters of the great western ocean. Doraux briefly wondered if any human had ever sailed on these breathtaking waters and concluded that it was highly improbable. There was a virginal quality about the sea, which in her experience, quickly vanished when sullied by the mortal touch.\n\nShaking her head, Doraux returned her attention to the deposed king, scarcely able to bear the expression of profound sorrow that had etched itself onto his face as she had spun her tale of Myrhia's treachery. In that resonating pain, Islena perceived Artumas' undeniable sense of culpability for his wife's campaign of evil.\n\nArtumas drew a slow breath, and placing his hands on his knees, rose to his feet. There was something in the gesture that spoke of middle-age and rapidly approaching infirmity. The generous amounts of gray at his temples and in his beard further served to enforce this impression of a man well past the zenith of his years.\n\nHe turned his gaze upon Islena, though his eyes seemed distant and distracted. \"When I first came to be here, there was a time when I thought that Myrhia had been sent by the fates to punish me for my arrogance...for the foolish conviction that I could change the world single-handedly, through exuberance and force of will alone. Now, I see that even that belief is another form of monumental hubris. Myrhia's evil is a force onto itself and I was a mere stepping stone along the path of her ambition.\"\n\nEven as he made this self-deprecating observation, Guinevere informed Islena that it was essentially erroneous, but would not elaborate. Artumas surveyed the five disparate petitioners, who were arranged on wooden benches, which were positioned along the length of his hovel. In every eye, he saw the unmistakable gleam of expectation, which filled his scarred heart with dejection as he understood there was no earthly way he could satisfy those exigent needs.\n\n\"Why have you come?\" he inquired in a voice that was a barely audible whisper. Over his shoulder, the golden orb of life was fast descending, casting long slanting shadows over the headland.\n\nIslena rose, her intense green eyes flashing like emeralds. As always, her request was framed in the blunt style that was typical of her nature. \"We need your help in stopping Myrhia.\"\n\nArtumas grimaced and then his expression gave way to a bitter grin. \"Look around you and see what I have become. I'm afraid that there is very little I can offer in terms of real help.\"\n\nDoraux stole a brief glance at Arminda and then stepped closer to the former king. \"Artumas, you seemed to react to our arrival as if you'd been expecting us?\"\n\nHe nodded in affirmation. \"I have. Once...though I have no idea how long ago because time has lost its meaning...I saw you in an incredibly lucid vision and although yours was the face of a stranger, a deeper voice insisted that we have been bound in spirit since before the advent of time. I realize how utterly absurd that must sound, but I knew that our paths would inevitably cross...and to earth-shaking affect.\"\n\nIslena averted her eyes so that he could not see how profoundly his words had affected her. She recalled that long ago day at the gym, when that first gap in the fabric of reality had torn open and her life had veered off along this tangent into utter madness. Even when she had first come to accept the inviolable truth of her odyssey, she had always subscribed to the notion that this first moment had been a portent. Now, in light of this revelation and the epiphany from the island, she realized that incident had been something infinitely deeper.\n\nThen he divulged something which, in its own right, was even more shocking. \"Myrhia foretold of your coming when she was last here.\"\n\nThe party reacted with a collective outcry of incredulity, leaping to their feet in unison and pressing the deposed king for an explanation. Only Sormias seemed unconcerned by this dramatic revelation. Artumas raised his hands in a gesture of placation and began to relate the tale of the events that had surround Myrhia's startling appearance. \"To be honest, I don't think that she was actually here in the tangible sense of the word. I have never professed to possess any expertise in the matter of metaphysics, but I believe that Myrhia has developed the ability to project her image and her consciousness to where ever she wishes it to be.\"\n\n\"He speaks the truth,\" Lorio confirmed in a subdued voice even as she averted her gaze to the setting sun.\n\nThe group digested this disclosure and its staggering implications in silence for a few moments and then Arminda inquired, \"So Myrhia came here with the intention of warning you of our coming?\"\n\n\"Not precisely,\" the Emercian amended, a slight frown playing at his lips. \"I would like to think that she came here to appease the urge of some flicker of guilt, but I'm sure that is wistful thinking at best. Her stated purpose was to apprise me of your coming and to warn me that I was not to offer my assistance in helping you locate the Proclamations.\"\n\n\"And if you refused?\" Arminda persisted.\n\nNow Artumas uttered a bitter laugh. \"Frankly, Myrhia believes that she has been lenient in dealing with me. I suspect that her misguided sentimentality motivated her to exile me to this place and not kill me outright. She actually expects a measure of gratitude for that act of mercy and assured me that she would not be so kind if I chose to take up your cause.\"\n\nHe hesitated for a moment, and then added, \"She even suggested that I could rejoin her on the throne as a consort, once she had subjugated the last of her enemies. I think the idea of how degrading and hollow such a gesture would be lies far beyond her sensibilities.\"\n\nHis gaze settled upon the exotic profile of Islena Doraux, who listened to Artumas as if from the depths of a pensive silence. _'How truly exquisite she is,'_ he thought wistfully. _'Though she wears the visage of a stranger, I feel as though I've gazed upon this face a thousand times before. The shadowy image of every thing she once was...every incarnation and life she had lived...seems to hang about her, moving into sharper focus with every step she takes along this all too familiar path to tragedy.'_ Quietly, he asked, \"Is it true that you wield the Dragonsword?\"\n\nShe peered at him with eyes that were pinched and fraught with misery and pain. Artumas understood that Myrhia had been truthful, even before Islena offered her fey reply. It was glaringly evident that she derived no joy from the power she'd unlocked. \"Yes, I found the Dragonsword quite by chance...at an abbey named Runesholm in the Blighted Lands. In reflection, it might be more accurate to say that is found me. The weapon and I possess some sort of synergy that I can't begin to grasp. It holds an obscene amount of power, though I am repeatedly told that it is merely a conduit for a power that actually resides within me.\"\n\nShe shook her head in consternation, the anguish etched deep in her lovely features. \"Every one claims that I am the one of prophecy. It is why Myrhia initially brought me here...to carry out the dirty work that she herself cannot do.\"\n\nA solitary tear slipped from the corner of her eyes and traced a path over the high ridge of her right cheek bone. Artumas found himself fascinated by this compelling evidence of the woman's vulnerability. His brow furrowed and he observed distantly. \"An instinct that I don't entirely understand, tells me that it may not be quite as simple as they believe...or perhaps considerably simple, depending on your perspective on the situation in which we now find ourselves.\"\n\nIslena glanced at the legendary king sharply and he raised his hands in a gesture of placation. \"I would beg that you not ask me to elaborate...my thoughts on this issue are yet in the formative stage. Still, I think I'm standing on the edge of a significant insight, and given time, it may resolve itself into something...tangible. For now good lady, I ask that you be patient in this matter.\"\n\nIslena continued to eye Artumas intently, but finally nodded, though with perceptible reluctance.\n\nGently, he prompted, \"Where is the sword?\"\n\nIslena shook her head and shrugged. \"Quite honestly, I don't know. While traveling across the upper lands, we we're accosted by a band of roving specters...Redians, or so they claimed. They demanded that I give them the sword...and I complied.\"\n\nNow it was the former king's turn to be visibly astonished. \"Gave it to them?\"\n\nIslena nodded with the ghost of a bitter smile playing at her full lips. \"The spider's virulence had seriously warped my thinking...filled my head with dark shadows and paranoid delusions. I've come to suspect that the still-rational part of my mind realized that it would be far better if the Icon and I parted ways. The specters sensed the Dragonsword's innate power, but they didn't realize that they have no way of accessing it. Basically, they're custodians until I decide to take it back.\"\n\nNow the other party members were regarding Doraux with identical expressions of astonishment. Flummoxed by Islena's cavalier attitude, Gillian remarked, \"You make it sound as though retrieving the icon will be as simple as strolling to the market for provisions.\"\n\n\"Oh, never simple, Gillian,\" Islena contradicted, her emerald eyes flashing. \"Nothing in this damnable world of yours has been simple. In that regard, I doubt matters are about to change, but I underwent an amazing transition when Sormias dropped me into that lake of purification. Not only did it purge the virulence, but it galvanized me to my intended purpose...burned away any ambivalence or misgivings. The sword is part of my destiny and I will find it no matter how far the specters run. Even now, I can feel it subtly prickling at the outer edges of my cognizance...like a whispered siren's song.\"\n\nShe stopped abruptly, blinking uncertainly in the falling dusk. Waxing lyrical had never been her style, but this was a world given to ruminations and grand rhetoric...or perhaps it was the voice of one of her past incarnations, subtly imparting its ancient wisdom.\n\n\"Perhaps you can simply summon the sword, Islena,\" Lorio offered. \"It is a trick that you've been able to effect in the past.\"\n\n\"No!\" Islena countered vehemently, shaking her head as a shadow of trepidation fell across her face. \"I can discern its presence, but nothing specific about its location. These specters have taken it to a place unlike any that we've encountered thus far.\"\n\nShe glanced directly at Lorio, who was shocked by the naked apprehension in Islena's direct gaze. \"If I wish to retrieve the sword, we will have to go there and take it back.\"\n\nArtumas absorbed this exchange in thoughtful silence, his mind alight with a thousand different questions and divergent tangents of contemplation. Above all of these there arose the exhilarating realization that the Proclamations were no longer the stuff of scholarly speculation. \"How thoroughly surreal this all is. For years, I explored the mythology of the three icons, never certain if I was obsessed with pieces of an elaborate fiction. Your very presence, Islena, is a living affirmation that the ancients did, indeed, forge three symbolic talisman which held the sum total of their culture's collective wisdom.\"\n\nHe stopped directly in front of Islena, his blue eyes fixed intently on hers. When he spoke, his voice was rife with puzzlement. \"Why have you come here? What specifically do you think I can do to aid your cause that would warrant the extreme gambles you taken in attempting to reach me?\"\n\nAs was her nature, Islena was equally blunt and forthright in her reply. \"I want you to help me locate the two remaining Proclamations. They say that your scholarly knowledge of the Icons and their history is without parallel. Once I find them, I want you to guide me through this ascension process.\"\n\nArtumas stiffened and averted his gaze to the placid ocean. \"I'm afraid that someone has greatly exaggerated the extent of my knowledge, Islena.\"\n\n\"Somehow I doubt that,\" Islena responded sharply, sensing the former king's ambivalence and discomfort. \"Even if you can't specifically pinpoint the location of the icons, I'm sure you can offer some informed conjecture on where I might begin my search. Even that would be immensely beneficial as I have little else to go on.\"\n\nArtumas shook his head adamantly. \"I always held to pet theories about where the ancients might have attempted to sequester the Icons, once they grasped the potential threat such devices held, but you have to realize that they are rooted in baseless supposition. The very fact that the Jerhia Icon was found in the Blighted Lands demonstrates that my theories are very likely incorrect.\"\n\nDoraux grimaced, growing vexed by the former king's stubborn resistance. \"I merely need to be pointed in the right direction and my natural affinity to the Icons should guide me to their hiding place.\"\n\nArtumas sighed wearily. \"I can share what I've long suspected, though if what you've told me is true, finding the Natzurdan staff would mean venturing deep into the heart of Natzurdan...eluding Myrhia's Morticants in the process.\"\n\n\"Artumas, I'm not concerned with the particulars,\" Islena remarked curtly as her frustration quickly surmounted deference to his status. \"If someone would have suggested that it was actually possible to divert the Hiberas and cross the entire Land of Shades on foot to search for a deposed king, you likely would have dismissed the idea as absurd...impossible to the point of suicidal lunacy. In this world, I learned not to waste time contemplating the viability of any given plan. If I have to stride into the vaults of Myrhia's castle in Nalosan to find what is required to kill the bitch, then that is precisely what I'm going to do. I need you to give me an idea where to begin my search.\"\n\nIslena fell silent and Artumas pursed his lips. The woman was a pillar of inexorable determination and courageous to a fault. Artumas, himself, had not been without his perilous and blatantly rash acts in his endeavor to bring justice and order to the eastern continent, but most of his actions had been based on careful consideration and meticulous planning. \"Islena, I'll share what conjecture I can on the possible locations of both remaining Icons.\"\n\nIslena stepped closed and Artumas tensed, the weight of her formidable presence affecting him like an electric current. She searched his face intently for an uncomfortably protracted period and then made her demand...the nature of which he had suspected (and dreaded) since the moment she had first found him. \"Artumas, I want you to accompany us back to civilization and help us fight Myrhia.\"\n\nThe former king's expression became grave and he turned away before the immensity of Islena's demand. Finally, he replied flatly, \"That is something that I simply cannot do.\"\n\nIslena's expression became querulous and she shifted her gaze to her companions, all of whom seemed to regard the exchange with varying measures of painful embarrassment.\n\n\"Something that you can't do?\" Islena echoed. \"Are we actually speaking the same language? The High Queen...the wife you willing elevated to the throne...is running amok in the world like a thresher...indiscriminately destroying everything in her path. I'm saying that I need your help to bring this carnage to an end...and you unequivocally refuse?\"\n\nThough dark shadows lay across the high king's face, his misery was laid bare on his leathery features. \"I'm not refusing...that would suggest that I have volition in the matter. The irreducible fact is simply this...there is nothing of tangible value that I may offer in the fight against Myrhia's tide of evil.\"\n\n\"Are you unmanned by her threats?\" Islena demanded harshly...her mordant tone causing the others to wince.\n\nSomething...a tiny spark intimating a hint of the man he had once been...flashed in Artumas' eyes then, but he discerned that this woman was attempting to goad him and refused to take the bait. \"When Myrhia usurped my throne, she took from me everything I held sacred, including every ounce of self-worth that I might once have possessed. Taking my life would be an incidental act by comparison...a mercy that I would welcome in many ways.\"\n\n\"Then why will you not help me?\" Islena persisted relentlessly, her seething frustration boiling to the surface.\n\n\"I haven't the right to embroil myself in the common struggle against Myrhia,\" Artumas explained patiently, though all but Islena could perceive how expensive and painful this elaboration of his unworthiness was for the former king.\n\nIslena shook her head in disgust and spun away. Lanced by her sinking dejection, the former king felt compelled to try to explain...to make plain his greatest fear. \"Do you not see that the very reason you seek my aid is also the one justification for why I cannot impart it?\"\n\nIslena glanced at the king questioningly, though his face was entirely lost in the gloom of nightfall. \"You speak of the sense of hope that my return might inspire...the conviction that my sudden resurrection might prompt the people to oppose the High Queen with even greater vehemence. As I've said, once I subscribed to the notion that I could reshape the world through tenacity and righteous purpose alone. I set about creating an elaborate illusion that was self-deceiving...constructed on the foundation of pure hubris. Worse still, it instilled false hope in people who had never possessed a reason to harbor that particular commodity before. That grand illusion made Myrhia's ascension to power all the more bitter and dispiriting...not only for me, but for all of those who were beguiled into subscribing to it.\"\n\nHe allowed the others to absorb this for a moment and then continued, \"My return will only agitate sentiments amongst the common people that are better left quiescent because, contrary to common belief, false hope is worse than no hope at all...especially for the common people. Inciting people to fight on my behalf is murderously wrong because I lack the means to defeat Myrhia. To go back and attempt to take up the role of leader would only add vile insult to grievous injury...something that I vehemently refuse to do. A great test of the human character comes with the acceptance of the fact that one has played his or her role on the grand stage and that their continued presence can only hinder the unfolding of events as they were perhaps intended. My time is done and now I can only recede into the pages of history and watch as those of greater fiber...women and men such as you, Islena...rectify the wrongs I inadvertently brought into being.\"\n\nIslena shook her head in a vigorous refutation of this notion and then briefly glanced at Gillian, trembling in response to the deepening chill that had accompanied the arrival of night. \"Perhaps we could light a fire?\"\n\nThe Jerhia bowed in deference and set himself to the task of gathering wood that he then cross piled in a pattern which every Jerhia had learned in childhood. He withdrew a flint and small piece of iron and was about to spark the fire into life, when Sormias placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. \"Permit me.\"\n\nGillian gestured for the Golgar to proceed and then retreated a pace. Sormias gazed down upon the configuration of wood and his golden brow furrowed in concentration. Twin shafts of amber light ripped the darkness to sunder, causing all except Islena to gasp and scramble back in wonder. In the next instant, burgeoning tongues of flame lapped at the night sky, casting flickering light over the vicinity of Artumas' humble abode.\n\nThe former king glanced at Islena, clearly bemused by the Golgar. \"Your airborne companion is a repository of surprises.\"\n\nStepping toward the fire and gesturing for Artumas to follow, she allowed with a quizzical grin, \"You couldn't begin to imagine.\"\n\nShe risked a fond glance at the Golgar, maddeningly hungry for the strong embrace of his alter-ego, before turning her attention back to the delicate matter at hand. \"Artumas, I apologize for suggesting that you are cowardly. Everyone who has ever raised your name has done so in tones of reverence and admiration, but when you speak of exacerbating the lot of those now crushed beneath Myrhia's fist and I can say unequivocally that you are wrong.\"\n\nShe went on to describe, in brutally graphic terms, the horror that she and Lorio had witnessed in the course of their flight from Perdwick. Her stark depiction of the slave train of children and women mortified the former king. She concluded this grim account by saying, \"We have reason to believe that her army is engaging in systematic genocide on the western continent.\"\n\nArtumas grimaced and turned away so as to conceal his dismay. In a wooden voice, he murmured, \"Myrhia's every perfidy is another stone set in my path to damnation. If only I could reverse the flow of time and efface all traces of her coming. Woefully, I cannot. Worse still, I cannot see how my return would serve to reverse the tide of her evil ambition, though I can clearly envision how my apparent resurrection might worsen matters. That is a needless eventuality that I am unwilling to risk.\"\n\nDoraux shook her head in frustration. She had traversed the entire length of the continent, doggedly surmounting the worst horrors imaginable, only to suffer this perfunctory dismissal. \"Do you not grasp what I'm trying to tell you?\" she began, attempting to contain her ire. \"The world is on the brink of absolute destruction. I might add that you are not without culpability in bringing it to that brink.\"\n\nArtumas accepted the recrimination with a sorrowful nod.\n\n\"This is an opportunity to rectify those errors in judgment and help undo the evil that Myrhia has wrought. We need your help and yours is an obligation as king to give it.\"\n\nArtumas regarded her with pale blue eyes which were tinged with an irrepressible sadness. Watching him, she thought, _'This is how it feels to bear the weight of all sins as a personal burden.'_\n\n\"Perhaps once I was a king.\" he murmured softly, \"though I've since come to believe that royalty is a mantle born of arrogance and presumption. Whatever the case may be, I am no longer qualified to hold that title. The specters of failure and exile have eroded the requisite characteristics from my heart and soul.\"\n\nArtumas paused long enough to meet her incisive gaze. In those flaming emerald depths, he glimpsed the man whom he had once been before Myrhia and humility had come to disabuse him of his illusions. He briefly wondered if he could aspire to those lofty ideals again and knew that to even entertain the notion was folly. \"I am a man and nothing more; flawed and broken of kingly pretensions. As I've said, if the fate of the world is to be decided, it will be through the actions of women such as Myrhia and yourself. My time has come and gone.\"\n\nIslena began to object, but Artumas stood and brushed past her. She sat silently for several moments, attempting to gather her composure. Of all the possible futures her mind had conjured, none had been as bleak as this reality.\n\nStanding morosely near the fire, she watched the man who had so utterly rejected her plea. Artumas, the legendary king of Emercia, was stooped over, mechanically hoeing rows of soil in his garden. His movements were bereft of vitality, as though he knew that his efforts were pointless and hollow...an exercise meant only to occupy the idle hours before death.\n\nAs Artumas toiled beneath his pall of despair, Islena realized that he had spoken the truth.\n\nDoraux turned away from the flames, grateful for the veil of shadow that concealed the extent of her sinking despair. This endeavor, undertaken at the cost of so many lives, had been insane from the outset. She now recalled the names of those who had surrendered their lives so that she might reach this bitter, unpalatable juncture. Islena silently mouthed some of those names...Morzhian, Emian and Amrand. With Artumas' adamant refusal to return to the living world, their sacrifice had been divested of all meaning...the loss of their lives made a squandered waste.\n\nIslena chanced a shaky exhalation, suddenly fearing that her legs would betray her and spill her to the sand. Perhaps divining her moment of weakness, Lorio appeared next to the smaller woman, gripping her elbow and leading her to the row of crude wooden benches that stood beside the king's humble hut. Casting a baleful glance over her shoulder, Lorio loosed her scornful invective on the Emercian. \"You are a pitiful fraud. All through my childhood, I heard you widely proclaimed as the greatest leader of the age. Standing before the broken, pathetic thing you've allowed yourself to become, I realize just how utterly hollow that effusive praise truly was. As evil as Myrhia is, at least she would never cower in a mire of self-pity and allow others to dictate the course of her destiny!\"\n\nArtumas absorbed this scathing condemnation in silence. A dreary pall descended on the group for several moments, not a word passing between any of the crestfallen party members who had endured so much hardship to come to this grim pass. Finally, the former king set aside his hoe and remarked, \"Let us go inside, I have a wealth of fish and dried fruits that we can share, while I tell you what I know of these Proclamations.\"\n\nIslena nodded wanly, her expression stoic, and rose to follow the former king into the darkened interior of his small hut, which was barely large enough to accommodate all six. Gillian dragged the makeshift cot outside to allow sufficient room for everyone to settle onto the floor.\n\nIslena trailed Artumas inside and her eyes slowly adjusted to the near total darkness. Glancing around the cloying confines of the Spartan hut evoked images of her cell at Runesholm. She wondered how difficult it had been for the former king to adjust to such squalor after having lived in a manner befitting a king.\n\nWhen the cot and bench had been removed, the six settled against the walls, while Sormias reprised his trick of igniting the small brazier that served as the single room's only source of light. The light was barely adequate to cast a muted, flickering glow over the small area. Somehow this pale, ineffectual light seemed appropriate for the discussion that was about to take place.\n\n\"Again, I want to reiterate that all I'm about to tell you is based purely on personal speculation,\" Artumas began, his gaze fixed squarely on Doraux. \"I've read extensively on the subject of the Proclamations...mostly inspired by my need to understand the hubris required to fashion such iniquitous devices that could only inevitably lead to a sorry state of affairs as the one that confronts us now.\"\n\nIslena nodded solemnly and remarked simply, \"I understand.\"\n\n\"My attraction to the tales of the three Proclamations was one of dark fascination, tempered by a measure of revulsion,\" he explained quietly. \"The thought of such unmitigated power in the hands of mere mortals was too frightful to contemplate and yet it was not without its dark appeal...and perverse logic. I've often contemplated how such power might be applied to serving the common good, privately wondering if I possessed the mettle to resist the dark addictions that are inherent in wielding such power. In the end, I concluded that the allure of ascending to deity status was probably too compelling...too tempting for mortals to exist.\"\n\nIslena grimaced and averted her eyes to the open doorway, where the moonlight had framed the strand in luminous silver. Artumas had eloquently expressed her own misgivings in succumbing to the call of her supposed destiny. Artumas gleaned her inner turbulence and offered, \"If you are, indeed, the fabled one of prophecy, I doubt that you would succumb so easily to these dark temptations, Islena.\"\n\n\"Then you would have more faith in me than I would have in myself,\" Islena whispered disconsolately.\n\nArtumas shifted his questioning gaze to Arminda, who offered the former king a frown of warning. Ever perceptive, Artumas grasped the contentious nature of Islena's view of her destiny and continued with his tale. \"Candidly speaking, I'm not entirely certain that I ever accepted the Proclamations as anything more than a fascinating myth. In truth, I prided myself on being a trenchant pragmatist, with little patience for religious beliefs. I might also add that Myrhia and my exile in this place has force me to abandon many of my long held philosophies regarding the nature of this world. At any rate, my interest in the tale of the three Proclamations was primarily an academic pursuit.\"\n\n\"Artumas, during your years together, did Myrhia show any interest in the Icons?\" Arminda inquired.\n\nThe former king considered this for a moment and then replied, \"Not uncommonly so. In fact, Myrhia seemed to regard my passion for the subject with a kind of patient indulgence...or so it seemed at the time. Obviously, my assessment of her interest was woefully incorrect.\"\n\nArminda nodded and pursed her lips. Doraux spoke next, her tone distant and mechanical. \"Artumas, to continually berate yourself for being deceived by Myrhia is a pointless exercise in self-pity. If what I've been told is even remotely close to the truth, the entire world was beguiled by Myrhia when you took her as your queen. More to the point...I know how mesmerizing she can be. Had it not been for a twist of circumstances in Perdwick, I might well have thrown my lot in with Myrhia. The sheer weight of her beauty alone makes it difficult to accept the notion that she is a lethal viper.\"\n\n\"Still, I was the king, Islena,\" Artumas protested, refusing to accept her absolution so easily\n\n\"Ah, but still a man for all of that,\" Islena retorted quietly to which Artumas could produce no response. At last, he sighed and picked up the thread of his discourse concerning the Proclamations.\n\n\"At any rate, I became an ardent consumer of all and any literature regarding the Icons. Naturally, a significant portion of this material was wild speculation or fanatical raving, but a small segment of the works was undertaken in a scholarly, analytical fashion. The authors attempted to divine the location of the three Icons, not through augury, but through a careful study of the natural character of each of the Cornerstone Nations.\"\n\n\"The natural character?\" Islena echoed quizzically, engrossed in the former king's tale.\n\n\"Exactly, the author of this study theorized that each country's selected place of concealment would be derived from each culture's disposition...or idiom. For example, the Jerhia, as a consequence of their militaristic nature, might have chosen to sequester the Dragonsword in a heavily guarded fortress in a remote and mountainous portion of the country.\"\n\nGillian shook his head skeptically. \"That seems highly improbable, Artumas. To maintain a remote, secret location for sixty centuries, without its existence becoming common knowledge, seems difficult to imagine.\"\n\nArtumas offered a thin grin and nodded his concurrence. \"Admittedly, but if the legend of the Proclamations has any substance, we must accept the tale as a whole, rather than selectively culling out the portions we find improbable. The ancients claimed that the Icons were indestructible. That is why they simply didn't destroy them when they realized the enormity of their error in creating them in the first place. The very fact that Islena discovered the Dragonsword sixty centuries after its creation verifies that these Icons are indeed indestructible.\"\n\n\"Granted that they couldn't destroy the damned things,\" Islena interjected irritably, \"but why did they not simply take them and toss them into the Hiberas. The Icons would not have been destroyed, but they certainly would have been rendered inaccessible...which really amounts to the same thing.\"\n\nArtumas reflected upon this for a moment, his brow furrowing in contemplation as he stroked his beard. Watching him, Islena could sense a quickening in the former king as if the conversation had ignited a portion of his soul that had lain dormant during his solitary exile. \"I would offer a two-fold explanation of why they might not have chosen this particular course of action. First, your presence here proves that the Hiberas is not an inviolable sanctuary. Still, even if the Hiberas was inviolable, I doubt that the ancients would have elected to dispose of the Icons in that fashion. Again, I would argue that this particular action would have been inconsistent with their character. I genuinely believe that the ancients would have devised a solution more in keeping with each nation's individual character.\"\n\nIslena shook her head and was about to raise another point of contention, when a shadow fell across the brazier and someone stepped through the open doorway. Islena glanced toward the figure and her fine features contorted with shock which quickly relented to a towering rage.\n\nIn the next instant, she was on her feet and attempting to launch herself over Lorio, who divined Islena's impulsive intention and collared the smaller woman in a powerful bear hug. \"Restraint Islena...you must see that she is not truly here, but she is still capable of inflicting serious harm on all of us.\"\n\nMyrhia glared balefully at her former minion and then shifted her gaze to the man who had been her husband. Artumas stared benignly back at the lovely enchantress as though he did not appear overly surprised by her sudden appearance. \"Ah husband...as always, you are enthralled by academia. How unfortunate it is that you lacked the courage to convert theory and speculation into reality.\"\n\nHer incisive gaze drifted slowly over the party, her luminous dark eyes flickering in the brazier's muted light. Shaking her head in feigned commiseration, she remarked, \"So this sorry lot represents the sum total of this pathetic world's hope...a Halfling, a recalcitrant rebel, a winged freak, a traitorous whore and a broken shell of a king. If you weren't all so pathetic, you would be worthy of amused laughter.\"\n\nThen her gaze fell upon Islena and that perplexing fondness stole into her limpid eyes...the assumed familiarity inciting Islena to renew her struggles, though Lorio held her fast. Islena could feel her flesh crawl beneath Myrhia's gaze as though in reaction to a rapist's degrading touch.\n\n\"You can't harm her, Islena,\" Lorio reiterated, struggling with the smaller woman. \"She, however, can hurt you. Let her have her moment of theatrics and spare your rage for a time when it will serve a purpose.\"\n\n\"Yes, Islena...heed the traitorous bitch,\" Myrhia intoned sardonically. \"I have a disclosure to make...one that I am certain you will find to be of immense interest. This squalid hut is hardly the appropriate setting for this revelation, so I bid you to follow me outside.\"\n\nWith this, the ephemeral enchantress vanished like mist before the rising sun. For a protracted moment, none of the party members stirred. Tentatively, Lorio released her grip upon Islena, who scowled at the taller woman and climbed to her feet, before stumbling to the entrance and whatever dark horrors lay beyond. She emerged into the cool night air with burgeoning trepidation gripping her heart, knowing that the enchantress had devised yet another terrifying and despicable ploy to accost Islena's tenuous grip on hope.\n\nThe others filed out after Doraux, each experiencing the same sense of welling dread, though to a lesser degree than the woman upon whom Myrhia's most insidious machinations seemed to focus. With every harrowing encounter, Arminda came to appreciate the enormity (and indeed, the epic unfairness) of the burden that fate had imposed upon Doraux.\n\nArtumas, too, had some intimation of what was to follow and found that he could not suffer the notion that Myrhia was about to heap her propensity for cruelty upon this ill-used creature. Hoping to avert this shameful spectacle of abjection, he stepped away from the others and imposed himself between Doraux and the flickering specter of the enchantress, who now stood further down the beach, near the water's edge...her effulgent image beaming to rival the luminous silver moon.\n\n\"Myrhia, I beseech you to abandon this campaign of infamy,\" he pleaded, taking several steps in the direction of his treacherous wife. Gillian growled an admonition, but the former king raised his hand in a request for forbearance and the Jerhia fell silent. The enchantress regarded her husband with the ghost of a grin playing at the corners of her generous mouth, evidently amused by his entreaty. \"I can see no good reason why I would do any such thing.\"\n\n\"Common decency might be the best motivation,\" Artumas rejoined solemnly. \"These noble travelers have related many of the appalling misdeeds you have committed in the name of conquest and were you not so willing to admit to them, I could scarcely credit their veracity.\"\n\nMyrhia threw back her head and met his plea with a spate of derisive laughter. \"Artumas, you were ever the tenacious plodder...in every life and every incarnation, that has been the unvarying characteristic that has defined your nature. You were never able to accept that we are not all slaves to the concept of the common good.\" She turned to the other party members and offered them a puzzlingly pleasant grin. \"It was shockingly easy to deceive Artumas. Even the merest suggestion that justice was my personal pinnacle inspired our good king to launch into a passionate soliloquy extolling the virtues of extending its natural right to all men...however lowly or humble they might be.\"\n\nShe inclined her head in the direction of the hovel. \"You see, firsthand, his recompense for such capricious drivel.\"\n\nMyrhia then closed her right fist with a snap that sent vermillion sparks spewing up into the night sky. \"Conversely, I possessed the fortitude to reach out and seize my vision...an act of courage that has brought me to the very brink of omnipotence.\"\n\n\"You've constructed this pedestal upon the blood and bone of untold legions of the innocent,\" Artumas observed grimly, his tone hinting at profound personal complicity and shame.\n\nMyrhia regarded her husband with an expression of unadulterated disgust and then shook her head dismissively. \"I have neither the time nor inclination to waste on philosophical debate. The only true measure of right and wrong come with who holds absolute power come the end of the day.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" Islena rasped between clenched teeth...the need to lash out nearly painful in its intensity.\n\nMyrhia shrugged nonchalantly. \"I suspect that your success in reaching my husband has suffused you with a sense of optimism, Islena. I've merely come to impose the painful shackles of reality upon your baseless hopes and illusions. Let me start by saying that you haven't the slightest inkling of the enormity of the power at my disposal...not the tiniest perception of what I bring to bear on this conflict...if I so choose. No doubt the bards are already composing tributes to the rerouting of the Hiberas. Yet, I say, consider what they have actually achieved...a dying civilization cowering behind a wall of fire. Perhaps they feel as though their ruse has foiled my ambition, but it is closer to the truth to say that they are irrelevant and of no consequence to me at this juncture in time.\"\n\nThe High Queen's expression darkened and she allowed cryptically, \"As the Inner Circle has discovered to their eternal pain, even the Hiberas is not an impregnable barrier.\"\n\n\"Don't speak in riddles, bitch!\" Gillian snarled with an uncharacteristic flash of ire.\n\nMyrhia fixed the swordsman with a look of withering disdain, but the Jerhia refused to avert his eyes. They continued to glare balefully for a moment and then Myrhia shrugged indifferently. \"Very well, if it's the unembellished, brutal truth you desire, then you shall have it. Perhaps a painful dose of reality will dispel the illusion that you've achieved something of consequence by reaching my gelded husband. The Inner Circle unwittingly attempted to strike at my Army's headquarters in Amberdias. I, in turn, decimated its ranks, leaving just enough of the inept fools alive to carry my admonition to Inos, who had the good fortune of being elsewhere when I leveled the great palace in Othgol.\"\n\nShe pursed her lips for several seconds and then remarked cryptically, \"And then there's the matter of Iythyx...\"\n\nGillian and Arminda both gave a start, while Artumas regarded his wife with an expression of incredulity, tempered by dawning disquiet. Myrhia surveyed the group with an insidious grin. \"Ah, do I detect the sonorous roar of plummeting dejection. My army came upon the lost requiem as we crossed the western ranges of Jerhia. Let it suffice to say that the jewel of Iythyx is no more. I had no time to waste in the systematic slaughter of your countrymen, though I suspect that the inimical elements will do much of my work in that regard.\"\n\nNow it was the normally restrained Arminda who bellowed in animal fury and charged the spectral image of the reviled enchantress. Foreseeing the Jerhia's likely reaction to this ugly provocation, Lorio extended her foot and tripped Arminda to the sand. Churlishly, she rasped, \"Don't be obtuse...this is precisely the futile reaction she desires.\"\n\n\"Ah Lorio, how prudent you've become,\" Myrhia sneered. \"A curious phenomenon indeed, proving that even I have much to learn about many of the creations I've wrought. Still, my fascination does not preclude the fact that I will snuff you out when the moment eventually demands it.\"\n\n\"Hollow bravado, Myrhia,\" Lorio retorted. \"It is quite apparent that trepidation brought you here. Could it be that harsh reality is beginning to penetrate your shroud of delusion\" Pointing toward Doraux, she concluded, \"This woman will be your undoing and that is a truth that is as inescapable as the rising of the sun.\"\n\n\"Such profound and stirring rhetoric,\" Myrhia laughed sardonically. \"It's unfortunate that it holds no credence.\"\n\nThe enchantress abruptly flicked her wrist in a gesture of curt dismissal. \"Enough of these trivialities...I have no further time to waste on inconsequential bit players.\"\n\nIn the next instant, her spectral image flickered and then vanished, leaving the baffled party members glancing about in confusion. Before a word could be uttered, Myrhia materialized less than a foot behind Islena's right shoulder. Leaning close to the startled Doraux, she whispered, \"Ah, but it is an infinitely complex and delicate dance we share, my precious.\"\n\nIslena stumbled back several paces, glowering at these incessant suggestions of intimacy. \"You're insane!\"\n\nMyrhia arched an eyebrow and fixed Islena with a rueful frown. \"Islena, knowing what you've come to learn about both your destiny as my bane and the cautions the ancients placed upon the Proclamations, how do you perceive my bringing you to this world?\"\n\nDoraux shook her head, disconcerted by the unexpected query. After a moment, she reiterated her caustic barb, \"As I just said...you're insane.\"\n\nThe enchantress shook her head as though gravely disappointed by Islena's response. \"I am saddened to see you behave like a dithering village ingénue, dear one. Do you really judge me so obtuse that I would draw you into a conflict and set you to find the very means to my destruction if I did not possess the means to bend you to my will...to serve my purpose?\"\n\n\"Islena, do not listen,\" Artumas admonished urgently. \"She will ensnare you in a web of half-truths if you open your mind to manipulation.\"\n\n\"Well, yours would certainly be the voice of experience, my husband,\" Myrhia scoffed contemptuously. \"Yet, in this instance, I am being wholly truthful when I tell you that I will bend you to my will, Islena. You will accrue the Proclamations and allow them to guide you on your path of ascension. Then you will kneel to me. I will drape that magnificent body in fineries and jewels...fit you with collar and chain...and you will kneel at my side and use your might as I direct. Do you doubt me, Islena? Peer deep into your conflicted heart and ask yourself if I am a fool who would knowingly stick her hand into a viper nest without unequivocal certainty that I am immune to the poison. My every move if predicated on the inevitability of your submission and you will be my servile pet...but do not fear, Islena...I will be a kind and gentle mistress. So there it is, Islena...I leave you with this one salient question...would I have brought you here if I was not absolutely certain that I possessed the leverage to break you to my purpose?\"\n\nDoraux offered no contradiction, only continued to glare balefully at her hated nemesis. Myrhia shook her head, feigning sorrow and pity. \"You are totally oblivious to your own nature, daughter.\"\n\nThinking of Guinevere and the scores of other women who had helped her through her moment of abjection on the island, Islena offered Myrhia a crooked grin and snapped, \"Not as oblivious as you might think.\" She stepped closer to the shimmering specter and rasped \"I would rather cut my own heart out than have you as a mother.\"\n\nMyrhia again threw back her head and uttered a peel of amused laugher. \"Such passion...such strident emotion...of all the occasions that our fates have intersected, this is perhaps the incarnation of you I enjoy the most.\"\n\n\"More nonsense,\" Islena grumbled, but a note of uncertainty echoed through her tone, granted efficacy by the recollection of the myriad of past lives that lay quiescent in her subconscious mind.\n\n\"Islena, when you first decided to seek out Artumas, was it to provide as source of inspiration or illumination? A measure of both, I would suspect. It is rather ironic and underhanded that you would attempt to use my own husband against me. Indeed, men have always been pawns in the many wars you and I have waged over the ages.\"\n\nIslena felt an abstract dread course along the length of her spine. Lorio discerned her unease and advised, \"Do not engage her in this dialogue, Islena.\"\n\n\"Confused Islena,\" the apparition inquired. \"Should I be more succinct...perhaps I must.\"\n\nMyrhia raised both of her arms above her head in a gesture of evocation. For several seconds, nothing happened, but then, as the party members gazed on, enthralled by the improbability of what they were witnessing, a hundred foot wide section of ocean rose slowly, but inexorably toward the heavens until it filled a portion of the horizon like a vast projection screen.\n\nGreat plumes of foam leapt majestically toward the indifferent heavens. Despite her desire to remain dispassionate, Islena could not help but gape in awestruck incredulity at the spectacle of Myrhia's power.\n\n' _This can't be real...even she can't be able to do this...can she?'_ Doraux wondered anxiously, even as a visceral churning in her guts confirmed what logic refuted as impossible.\n\n\"Now Islena, observe carefully and try to grasp the implications of what you are about to see,\" Myrhia instructed, her tone fraught with private amusement. For a moment, the towering curtain of water remained dark and impenetrable, but gradually a diffuse green light radiated out from its center, until the entire construct was backlit.\n\nEventually, like a colossal abstraction so vast as to stagger the imagination, a flickering image began to resolve itself on the churning surface of the cascading water. Awareness of everything around Islena vanished as she focused all of her attention on the sea screen, certain that this mind-boggling spectacle would deal yet another soul-rending blow.\n\nShe drifted back up the slope several paces so as to improve her perspective. When she reached the point where the sands abruptly relented to the saw grass which delineated the beach, a tortured groan was dragged from her wind-chapped lips. The steel fibers in her muscular thighs were suddenly transformed to rubber and she feared that she would tumble to the grass. Only her staunch refusal to provide Myrhia with the satisfaction of seeing how profoundly her disclosure had affected her kept Islena vertical.\n\nOn the improbable screen, two lust-intoxicated lovers were engaged in a wild, passionate act of coupling...reveling in each others flesh with unrestrained abandon. Islena could clearly recognize Myrhia, her lovely body aglow with perspiration as her lover pleasured her as though born to the act. The male's face was turned away from Doraux, though she had experienced every subtle nuance of that body enough times to know his identity.\n\nIslena bore witness, gripped by a paroxysm of pain and rage as Ben buried his face in the deep cleft of Myrhia's breasts, while his hands roamed frantically over her tight hips. He thrust himself deep into her womanhood as though utterly desperate to please her. Something about his subservient zeal touched her as pathetic and she forced herself to avert her eyes in disgust.\n\n\"Ah, my poor Islena...the truth is both humiliating and painful to behold,\" Myrhia chided. \"Still, nowhere near as insufferable as having to endure his ineffectual pawing. The entire time I had him between my thighs or kneeling to please me, I could not help but wonder how a woman of such enormous consequence...such grand destiny...could find herself attracted to such a plodding, inconsequential dullard. Even Artumas...despite his ingenuous nature and his tiresome morality...is worth a score of Ben Richards.\"\n\nIslena spun about, shaking with immutable fury. Losing her composure and not caring that her companions saw her in a state of utter hysteria, she screamed, \"Shut up! You damnable whore...shut your filthy fucking mouth!\"\n\nMyrhia's disdainful laughter resonated along the silver strand, crashing upon Islena like a tidal waving breaking on a shore. \"Raw emotion, spewing forth like lava from a volcano...the true, unconstrained daughter of the tempest embodied.\"\n\n\"I misjudged you, Myrhia,\" Doraux snarled. \"Of all the ghastly things you've done, I could never have believed that you would resort to something so utterly petty...something so pathetically tawdry and desperate.\"\n\nIslena's misjudgment of Myrhia's intention finally roused the High Queen's ire. \"You obtuse bitch!\" she seethed. \"Do you truly believe that I would sully myself merely to inflict a measure of petty spite on that unfeeling heart of yours? Foolish wench...my intentions in seducing that dolt were far more insidious...more consequential.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Islena snapped, attempting to sound forceful in the face of the silvery thread of trepidation that drew itself along the length of her spine.\n\nMyrhia's countenance twisted and upon her face there radiated an expression of such malevolence that Islena could not stifle the groan of horror that escaped her lips in anticipation of what her nemesis was about to divulge.\n\n\"Look closely, Islena,\" Myrhia commanded, tilting her head in the direction of the now darkened water wall. Against her volition, Islena found her gaze drawn to the west. \"Behold the culmination of my machinations and try to maintain your posture of defiant bravado.\"\n\nIslena saw and felt herself tumble down the rabbit hole into madness and inconsolable despair. A small child sat on a floor of crudely fashioned stone over which rank puddles of water had settled into the depressions in the stone. The boy cowered at the approximate center of a circle of harsh white light, which shone down upon the trembling child with no discernable source.\n\nSlowly, as if sensing that he was being scrutinized, Allan raised his face. Seeing those innocent eyes brimming with tears and alight with terror, Islena sank to her knees. Abruptly, the boy screamed and his head whipped around, searching frantically for something that lay couched beyond the perimeter of light. Even against the backdrop of roiling water and the roaring of blood in her ears, Islena could discern the furtive slithering sound as something sly circled in the darkness around the helpless child.\n\n\"Please...oh please get away!\" he whispered desperately, raising a groan of pure anguish from the frantic Doraux.\n\n\"You sadistic bitch...leave him alone...I'll kill you for this...rip your heart out!\" Doraux raged, literally shaking with the sense of utter helplessness. \"If anything happens to him...so much as a fucking scratch, I'll find you and tear you to pieces.\"\n\nAt that precise moment, something burst out of the darkness, converging quickly on the boy, who cowered and raised his arms to shield himself from the approaching horror. Panic surmounted reason and Doraux was up and charging toward the ocean as though intent on intervening.\n\nMade all the more horrible by its gargantuan proportions, the looming monstrosity resembled a bizarre cross between a beetle and a spider. Its curving mandibles clicked hungrily and its chitin legs reared up in the air as Doraux brayed a cry of negation.\n\nWhen it seemed inevitable that the questing jaws would close about the boy's tiny waist, rending both the child and Islena's tenuous grip on sanity, the apparition dissolved into darkness, leaving the boy curled in the center of the floor, sobbing with atavistic dread.\n\nIn the next instant, the ocean again was again a shimmering moonlit sheet and Myrhia was hovering near the water's edge. \"I trust that you will give me your absolute attention without the annoying attitude of pointless defiance.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" Doraux muttered, though her tone seemed oddly barren...hovering on the edge of capitulation. She was suddenly aware of the others gazing at her in dawning horror and felt a hot flush of bitter resentment. It was not their son who cowered. They didn't know...couldn't know the fear that her fragile boy must be experiencing.\n\n\"Simply this...recover the Dragonsword and then find the other two Proclamations and bring them to me. Then, you will remain in my company until I can devise a way of drawing on the Icon's inherent power without you as a medium.\"\n\n\"And once you've succeeded...do you really expect me to believe that you'll let me go?\"\n\n\"That is precisely what I expect you to believe. Comply and both you and your son will be allowed to go free. What's more...I will extend a bold egalitarian gesture by vowing that I will cease my destruction of this wretched world. Indeed, once I've procured the power of the Icons, I have every intention of abandoning the accursed planet for more bountiful pastures.\"\n\n\"Do you really believe any of us to accept anything you say...your every utterance reeks of deception and treachery?\" Arminda cried indignantly.\n\nMyrhia cast a baleful gaze at the young Jerhia who refused to be intimidated. At last, the enchantress sighed elaborately and explained patiently, \"You may believe me if for no other reason than the realization that I have no incentive to offer such alms. This world is mine for the taking. Should I elect to extend any form of mercy, it can only be motivated by sincerity\".\n\nMyrhia again waved the other party members away with a disdainful flick of her small left hand. \"Eventually, Islena, you or one of your poorly chosen allies, is going to arrive at the erroneous conclusion that...once you've gained the Proclamations and unlocked their recumbent power...you will have the requisite might to smite me like a bug. When that moment inevitably arrives, I want you to ponder the implications of two words...soul forge.\"\n\nSeeing Islena's quizzical expression evoked a peel of light laughter from the enchantress. \"Ah, Islena, you remain so blithely ignorant of the forces that truly hold sway in this life of ours. It is unfortunate that you slaughtered Emian...he might have possessed the knowledge to at least elaborate on the rudiments of the process.\" Myrhia shrugged in feigned indifference and then continued, \"Seeing as that is not an option, let me enlighten you. Sweet Allan and I have taken part in a special ritual...an intermingling of essences as it were. What does that entails precisely...well I'll spare you the rather disturbing details of ritual...but the end result is that precious Allan and I will share one common fate.\"\n\n\"What...what do you mean?\" Islena heard herself ask, though the implications were fairly evident without even knowing the specific detail.\n\n\"What it means, my dear sweet daughter is that if you loose your acquired magic on me...your son will be obliterated as well. If your allies find a means to inflict harm upon me, dear Allan will suffer in equal measure. If I should develop a sudden uncharacteristic maladroit proclivity and tumble down a flight of stone stairs...his bones will shatter. I trust that image is sufficiently graphic to convey the nature of the bond he and I will share. Now, my precious daughter...do you feel the tug of that collar and leash firmly about that neck of yours?\"\n\nIslena managed an inarticulate wail of anguish and horror before collapsing to her knees and sprawling forward onto the sand, her muscular body convulsing in misery.\n\n\"Enough, I've declared my conditions and I trust there is no reason to state the implicit consequences of further defiance.\"\n\nThen she was gone, leaving a thoroughly dispirited Doraux to reflect upon all that Myrhia had divulged. That single stark image of her terrified son weighed upon her thoughts like a millstone. The future stretched before her along a single road that could only lead to Myrhia's ultimate triumph...unless she was willing to sacrifice her child to deny the enchantress her prize.\n\n2\n\nNight was slowly losing its hold over the eastern horizon, though Doraux was still submerged into the blackened malaise into which her spirit had plunged after Myrhia had divulged the details of her son's abduction and imprisonment. She was vaguely aware of the others hovering worriedly about her. By silent agreement, they had left her alone to her private turmoil, knowing that there was little that could be said to ameliorate her misery or express empathy for a situation they could scarcely imagine...let alone offer any meaningful words of empathy.\n\n' _My son...sweet mother...she has my beautiful little boy and she's bonded with him in a way that is foul beyond understanding. She's beaten me...what choice do I have but to capitulate?'_ These two debilitating thoughts chased each other through her beleaguered mind like relentless hounds. _'Ben, you weak-willed bastard...all of this is your fault. If anything happens to Allan...pray to God that I never set eyes on your fucking face again. Maybe I can't harm Myrhia, but you I can make suffer and suffer!'_\n\nAbove this discouraging circle of stark emotion there came the desolate realization that, for all of her smoldering rage, she was utterly helpless...reduced to casting aspersions at Myrhia and threats at her traitorous husband, but little more. Without sacrificing her son, her only recourse was to accede to Myrhia's demands, find the Proclamations and serve the odious bitch's purpose.\n\nHer mind abruptly seized on the notion that this might well be a hoax, just as was the incident in the gaming yard at Perdwick. Inevitably, her pragmatic nature refused to succumb to this fleeting false comfort. Somehow, Myrhia had reached across the divide of time and space once...her very presence here was proof of that...and it would be self-defeating folly to think that she could not do so again.\n\nIslena fetched a tremulous sigh and buried her face in her hands. In her ruthless wisdom, the enchantress had played the ultimate trump card. For her part, Doraux had no further cards to play.\n\nThe subtle whisper of soft leather on sand declared that someone had approached and now stood patiently awaiting her acknowledgement. She glanced up, her expression wan, to find Artumas peering down upon her. Even from the abject depths of her misery, Islena was rather surprised to discover that she derived a certain measure of comfort from his presence. _'It's almost as if we've known each other for a lifetime...there's a certain familiarity...even intimacy, when we look at each other.'_\n\n\"It may be of little solace, but I'm genuinely sorry for the grief my wife has inflicted upon you,\" the former king offered. \"This is the first time that I've had to apologize for her treachery, but if I am to return to the world, I know that atonement and a plea for forgiveness will become a constant part of my life.\"\n\n\"Artumas, in the time that I've been here, I've not heard a single soul blame you for Myrhia's evil,\" Islena returned earnestly. \"In fact, when I first apprised the Inner Circle of Metocan that you were still alive, the news rekindled their lost hope.\"\n\nArtumas frowned in bemusement and asked Doraux how she'd discovered that he was still alive. She, in turn, recounted the tale of her harrowing escape from the dungeons of Perdwick, including Ynthrax's recommendation that she seek out the exiled king.\n\n\"Remarkable,\" Artumas shook his head in consternation. \"When an incorrigible wretch such as Ynthrax will risk his hide to rebel against evil, then the times must be dark and dire indeed.\"\n\n\"Nothing that we can say can adequately describe the hell that Myrhia has wrought,\" Islena muttered. \"She has made a point of reducing every enclave of light and joy to rubble as though she cannot suffer the thought of any sort of beauty in this world.\"\n\nTentatively, the former king began, \"Islena, on the matter of your husband...\"\n\nShe glanced up at Artumas, her lovely emerald eyes flashing forbiddingly, but Artumas forged ahead regardless. \"I suspect that you perceive your husband's seduction as a betrayal. Undeniably we are each of us, responsible for our own actions, but it would be exceedingly harsh to ascribe all of the blame to your husband's weakness.\"\n\n\"Do you say this to rationalize your own temptation?\" Doraux demanded petulantly, immediately regretting her harsh retort.\n\n\"I speak merely from experience,\" the former king responded evenly, displaying no hint that he had taken affront to her caustic remark.\n\nDoraux averted her eyes and mouthed, \"I'm sorry...I have no right to cast judgment. The thought that this monster has my son is making me crazy. He's so sweet and trusting...so utterly vulnerable.\"\n\nArtumas nodded somberly, knowing from painful personal experience that the High Queen was the undisputed master of exploiting personal vulnerability. He could sense this familiar spirit watching him in the darkness, her expression stark and desolate. He wondered obliquely how much she had divined of her true nature...or of his. \"Islena, I've decided to offer you whatever aid I am able.\"\n\nShe drew a tremulous breath and her mouth twisted into an ugly scowl of pain. \"But what can I do, Artumas? She has my son and you and I both know that she will have absolutely no compunction about torturing him to coerce me into doing precisely what she wants. I simply can't allow that to happen and so I see no alternative but to accede to her demands.\" She hesitated a moment and her entire body shuddered in apprehension, before she intoned, \"And then there is this ritual...this soul forge she mentioned. It's a violation on the most intimate level...an obscenity that I can't even think about without wanting to drag the eyes from my head.\"\n\nArtumas did not respond at once. The concept of this soul forge struck him as indescribably despicable and defied his sensibilities while providing a fresh insight into the extent of his wife's depravity. Islena cursed miserably and growled, \"I'm not a queen...or a great worldly figure who is able to take a broader perspective on my situation, Artumas. I'm a simple woman...a mother above all else. What Myrhia is implying is that in order to destroy her...if such a thing is even possible...I would have to also be willing to sacrifice my own child! If her contention proves truthful...if this soul forge is not just another hollow ploy...then we're all doomed because nothing could compel me to take an action that would harm Allan...much less kill him. Nothing!\"\n\nAs she uttered this fierce declaration, another horrifying implication of the soul forge flared in her mind like the detonation of a nuclear weapon. If this ritual produced an inextricable link between the two souls, then what flowed one way must invariably flow the other. If killing Myrhia would result in poor, innocent Allan's death, it was possible that the sacrifice of her son would have deadly repercussions upon the enchantress. If so, the ritual would make the defenseless child a primary target for anyone without the moral qualms of killing a child to save a world with no other hope of salvation.\n\nWhat's more, the Allan's death would relegate Islena's great destiny to total irrelevance. She had no illusions about the number of people who would have no reservations whatsoever about killing a child in exchange for averting Myrhia's ascension to total omnipotence.\n\nA low, wounded moan escaped Islena's lips and she spun away from the familiar stranger. In a voice made fierce with indignant outrage, she rasped, \"If anyone tries to harm my son...Myrhia or otherwise...I'll tear their throats out with my teeth and bathe in their blood. That's not a hollow threat...it's a woman's vow...a mother's promise.\"\n\nArtumas placed his hand on her left shoulder and was utterly astounding by its incredible density as if the muscles had been carved from stone. In a voice that was rife with immutable pain, he observed, \"Islena, it's been my lamentable experience that life often makes a mockery of our most solemn promises and most stridently uttered oaths. I fear that before this ordeal has seen its end, you will be forced to re-evaluate who you are and the lengths to which you will go to serve the purpose that fate has imposed upon you. It is but one of the many tragic realities of this life we've been given. I doubt there is much consolation to be found in this, but again, fate is indifferent to the tribulations of those who have been shackled by its cruel designs. To that end, there are times when it is best simply to act and concentrate only on the task of moving forward. This may be the only way to make an uneasy accommodation with the horrendous burden that you are expected to bear. Though it may seem that Myrhia has gained an insurmountable leverage over your soul, this action also speaks of extreme desperation. I can not gauge the shape and scope of her apprehension Islena, but I can assure you, without reservation, that Myrhia would never take such an extravagant gamble...one that would leave her so blatantly exposed. Wherever she has sequestered your son, it will be in a place that is impregnable...inaccessible to all but her. Thus, the circumstances in which you now find yourself remain essentially unchanged.\"\n\nPerplexed, she replied, \"I don't follow.\"\n\n\"Irrespective of whether you destroy Myrhia or capitulate to her, you must first find the Proclamations...secure in the idea that she has taken every precaution to ward your son...as her very life depends upon it. Therefore, the path before you is narrow and unavoidable. You must find the Proclamations as they are the hinge upon which fate will turn.\"\n\nDoraux nodded thoughtfully and despite her dejection, she could discern the merit to be found in subscribing to the narrow view of what was required. By removing Allan's plight from the equation, she might find the means to continue beyond this wretched moment. She must place her faith in the hope that, once the Proclamations were hers to command, she would find the means to sever the bond that Myrhia had forged with her precious son...before she reduced the odious bitch to a pile of smoking ash. \"In my time here, I've heard a lot of stories lauding your wisdom...and I'm beginning to understand why. Something tells me I'm going to have to draw on everything you have to offer if I'm going to survive this nightmare and see Myrhia in her grave.\"\n\nArtumas peered out over the ocean and in the poor light, she thought she could discern a hint of regret in his solemn expression. \"Fate has willed you to be Myrhia's bane, though she has brazenly expressed her contempt for whatever universal forces there are by trying to exploit prophecy to her advantage. Despite her audacity, I still believe that events will resolve themselves as they were intended to be. Myrhia seems to have gained an insurmountable advantage over you, but neither you nor I possess the ability to divine the future and we cannot say what dramatic twists await us, Islena.\"\n\n\"But can she, Artumas?\" Islena demanded, her emerald eyes blazing in the darkness. \"Can she look into the future...is this why she's put herself in what seems to be an untenable position?\"\n\nThe former king's eyes narrowed, accentuating the deep nest of wrinkles around his eyes. \"I'd like to assure you that she cannot beyond any shadow of doubt, but I've always been an atrocious liar. Myrhia shared my bed and my kingdom, but if the truth be known, I know nothing of who or what she is...though some more primal instinct is telling me that even this statement may not be entirely correct. The woman I thought I knew was but a glorious illusion. I subscribe to the fervent belief that no one can truly know the future because it remains malleable until the very instant it becomes the present. Whatever Myrhia might be, she is not a deity, though she certainly aspires to reach that lofty pinnacle...whatever the price required.\"\n\nIslena struggled to keep the frown of dejection from her face, trying to find some cause for optimism in his sudden willingness to serve the quest. \"You will help me to locate the Icons?\"\n\nArtumas nodded encouragingly. \"I will provide whatever assistance I am able. As you correctly observed, I am not without culpability in bringing about the darkness that lies across the land.\"\n\nShe started to protest, but he forestalled her objection with a raised hand. \"Rest peacefully, dear lady. In the morning, we will chart a course of action.\"\n\n\"One step at a time,\" Doraux murmured distantly, to which the former king smiled broadly and replied, \"Precisely.\"\n\nDoraux watched as he turned and headed up the sandy slope, finally disappearing into his hut. It suddenly occurred to her that her spirit derived an immeasurable comfort from his presence. It was equally evident that she would come to heed his advice...if only to maintain her tenuous grip on sanity. Islena believed that sleep was impossible...that she would be consumed by thoughts of her beautiful son in the clutches of her nemesis, but somehow she carried her final thought down into the numbing embrace of dreamless sleep.\n\nChapter Twenty Two\n\n1\n\nThe sun had reached the zenith of its glory before Islena again opened her eyes and rejoined the living, though she would have thought the idea of prolonged, restful sleep laughable in the wake of Myrhia's devastating revelation.\n\nSomeone (most probably Lorio) had managed to carry her into the shade of Artumas' domicile and had arranged her bedding so that she could sleep more comfortably on the golden sand. As had been the case since the quest had first commenced, the party had taken to treating her as a precious and delicate commodity...to be coddled in the face of hardship. She found this notion mildly vexing as time was precious and there was no way to predict how far this journey had yet to take her.\n\nShe was up in one fluid motion, silently making her way to the edge of the hovel, where she stood scrutinizing the others. Gillian and Artumas sat near the charred remains of the previous night's camp fire, engaged in a seemingly intense discussion. Watching the pair, Islena surmised that the Jerhia was providing the former king with a detailed account of all that had befallen the world since Artumas had been exiled. Artumas' strong face was cast in an expression of acute pain and Doraux could discern how deeply the tales of Myrhia's infamy affected the deposed king.\n\nIn the field that served as Artumas' garden, Lorio was systematically harvesting the crop of succulent vegetables, carefully separating each type into portions, before packing them away in different sacks. At least food would be plentiful on this next part of the journey. Watching Lorio labor with her customary grace and energy, Islena offered a silent prayer of gratitude that the Lamish beauty's life had been spared. Doraux could not help but notice that Lorio's abdomen was perceptibly larger, though it seemed to have no affect on the woman's mobility or energy. The thought of Lorio's pregnancy roused a perplexing mixture of trepidation and exasperation in Islena's heart.\n\nSormias was nowhere to be seen, but when her gaze turned skyward, she spied the Golgar turning graceful spirals high in the flawless blue sky. Islena understood that he derived an intense pleasure from his gift of flight and witnessing him as he indulged that pleasure filled her with a soaring euphoria. Somehow, he seemed unaffected by the prevailing shadow of Myrhia's evil...as if the travails of the world were only obliquely relevant to his life.\n\nThen she turned her attention on the last remaining member of the party, wincing as an incisive stab of sorrow lanced her heart.\n\nThe young Jerhia stood apart from the others near the waterline of the Great Western Ocean. From where she stood, Islena could clearly see that the gentle surf was breaking over the tattered remains of Arminda's worn leather boots. The girl...no woman, Islena amended ruefully, because after all that she'd suffered she had earned that badge of respect...stood with her back to Doraux. There was a thoroughly dispirited aspect to her posture that eloquently bespoke the blackness of her mood.\n\nWatching Arminda gazing morosely out over the shimmering emerald mystery, oblivious to the splash of its warm waters on her bronze flesh, it came to Islena that the Jerhia's suffering had run the gamut of human misery. From the tragic loss of her beloved brother, to a debilitating wound and subsequent humiliating torment at the hands of Myrhia's hybrid, the girl had summoned the mettle to subjugate her despair and carry on. Even Emian's ineffably cruel murder had not deterred the girl, though it was apparent that she had come to love the Metocan mage. Through all of this, she had tenaciously refused to succumb to despair and in the end, burdened as she was, Arminda had led them all to Artumas.\n\nDoraux started across the sand toward the Jerhia, the heavy muscles in her thighs dancing their sensuous ballet as she moved. Both Artumas and Gillian discerned her approach and began to rise, but she silently signaled for the pair to remain where they sat, moving past them in the direction of the Jerhia archer.\n\nShe stopped a pace apart from Arminda and tentatively placed a hand on the girl's right shoulder. The girl acknowledged Islena's presence with a tacit nod, but did not turn. Instead, she continued to stare fixedly at a point on the distant horizon.\n\n\"What do you suppose lies across these waters?\" she inquired in a voice that was wistful and longing, making it clear that she did not expect a thoughtful reply.\n\nStill, Islena felt compelled to offer some response if only to lift the girl from her malaise. \"I have no way of knowing, Arminda, other than to speculate that it will be a woman with your courage and spirit who finally becomes the first to set eyes on whatever awaits on the other side.\"\n\nArminda's face congealed into a grimace, fraught with self-contempt. Islena watched as the Jerhia's glance slid involuntarily to the lifeless arm that had come to define her worth in Arminda's troubled mind. Bitterly, she intoned, \"Do you truly think so, Islena?\"\n\n\"Actually, I do,\" Islena replied firmly.\n\nArminda studied Islena in silence for a protracted moment, before offering Doraux a weary sigh. \"Emian lectured me at length on the subject of the profound changes that will befall our world...even if we should succeed in vanquishing the enchantress. He insisted that many of the old philosophies and traditions will perish beneath the sweeping waters of change. Perhaps it was simple flattery, but he claimed that I was destined to play a major role in reshaping our future. Standing at the edge of the world, gazing out over the vast and mysterious expanse of water, I must confess that I think our dear Emian was sweetly deluded. Candidly, I can scarcely conceive of the role I might play in the search for the remaining two Proclamations.\"\n\nIslena gently squeezed the girl's shoulder, finally discerning the full shape and extent of Arminda's dejection. The Jerhia was feeling that the tide of events had abruptly left her to languish in the shallows...reducing her to the role of an incidental bit player. The old Doraux could have experienced a measure of annoyance at the need to provide reassurance in the face of another's crippling insecurity. Now, however, Doraux's own suffering and doubt had accrued in her heart like a black pearl and over the course of her odyssey, she had developed a new capacity for empathy. \"Arminda, you are a woman of incontestable valor. You've sacrificed everything...with the exception of your life...to bring us to Artumas and to lead the party through the upper lands, when it seemed that the only possible resolution to this quest was defeat. The world owes you an eternal debt of gratitude.\"\n\nArminda nodded and her pale blue eyes...so hauntingly reminiscent of her brother's...misted with emotion. Islena smiled broadly and hugged the girl. \"What's more, I could credit Emian with an incisive insight into the future and the role you will have to play in molding its shape.\"\n\nArminda harshly brushed her eyes with the back of her hand, the reluctance to display emotional weakness still deeply engrained in her character. \"Islena, I would like to ask that you give me one vow on your honor.\"\n\nDoraux held the girl to arm's length, search the girl's pretty face for some indication of what form this extracted oath might assume. The Jerhia normally open face was closed and inscrutable, but Islena was nonetheless compelled to remark, \"I will do for you whatever is within my power to do...I'm sure you realize that by now, Arminda.\"\n\nThe Jerhia's features became animated by a fierce emotion so intense that Islena had to struggle to resist the urge to recoil from its heat. \"Swear to me that, during the course of whatever is to come, you will not hesitate to ask of me anything that will facilitate the success of this quest.\"\n\nShe clutched Doraux's muscular forearm with surprising force. \"Regardless of the inherent dangers or the complexity of the task, vow that you will choose me if required...irrespective of this damnable infirmity.\"\n\nSomething drew Islena's gaze to the indomitable Lorio just then and the seed of a notion germinated in her mind. Distantly, she nodded and promised, \"Yes Arminda, you've acquitted yourself admirably and deserve no less.\"\n\nThe girl beamed a broad, tearful smile, the relief naked on her haggard and still bruised face. As she turned away, Islena was cognizant of yet another vow that she committed to, though time had since turned its mocking scorn upon her repeatedly since she had first offered her vow to the memory of Amrand. She had sworn that she would ward Arminda against the perils of this journey. The girl had been divested of everything save her very life and if she managed to retain that when the final step was taken, Islena could claim no credit in making it so.\n\nShivering slightly, she walked toward Artumas, leaving the Jerhia to her melancholy contemplation of the great western ocean. As she approached, the two men rose to greet Islena, both appearing anxious and preoccupied by the subject of their conversation.\n\nIn a more churlish tone than she had intended, Doraux demanded, \"Why did you allow me to sleep so late...we've squandered another full day?\"\n\nArtumas shrugged apologetically. \"We all decided that more would be gained by allowing you the luxury of a few hours sleep than would be lost by lingering here for another day.\"\n\nIslena thought of her son in the grasp of the enchantress, but abruptly drove the image from her mind, knowing that to dwell on it would ultimately be debilitating. Such grim contemplations could only yield reckless acts of desperation...errors in judgment that would prove fatal for everyone around her.\n\nWith titanic effort, Islena forced herself to be patient and reasonable...a posture that was normally contrary to her impulsive nature. \"Perhaps you're right. We're better off spending the remainder of the day deciding how to proceed from here.\"\n\n\"On that matter, I have some specific notions, good lady,\" Artumas intoned in a voice that was formal, yet strangely disarming. Doraux motioned for Arminda, Sormias and Lorio to join the trio, reasoning that all had earned the right to offer their opinion on any intended course of action that she might select. That right had been hard won through sacrifice and hardship, though Islena was cognizant of the fact that any decision on the future of the quest must fall on her broad shoulders. The others would serve as her advisers and she was determined to heed their counsel carefully.\n\nAddressing the other four, Islena came to stand directly beside the deposed king and began to relate the details of their previous night's conversation. \"Last night, Artumas and I pondered how we might move forward from this moment. He believes...and I agree, incidentally...that there is only one alternative...we have to locate the remaining two Proclamations. Even though this is precisely what Myrhia wants me to do, we are going to gamble that fate's prophecy is inviolable and I will be the bitch's undoing. The first logical step in that progression would be recovering the Dragonsword.\"\n\n\"That may not be such an easy matter, Islena, given who it was that seized it from your possession,\" Arminda observed soberly, tactfully neglecting to mention that it had been Doraux who had voluntarily surrendered the Jerhia Icon while under the thrall of the spider's virulence. \"As the entities were spirits, it is impossible to predict where they might have gone. Indeed, given what we've learned about this strange place, it is entirely possible that they might have sequestered the Icon in another dimension...beyond our reach.\"\n\n\"That is highly improbable, Arminda,\" Lorio disagreed in her new, considered manner. This latest transmogrification had imbued the hybrid with an implacable calm...a certain thoughtful and patient serenity that the human Lorio had never possessed. \"During my sojourn as Myrhia's lackey, I was provided with the opportunity to learn much about the arcane ways of the astral dimension. Tangible objects have no place there...or more concisely, physical substance has no place in that realm. Mind you, it is not inconceivable that Myrhia has devised a method of dragging physical objects through the astral gateway, but she is the apotheosis of all magic and sorcery. The entities who took the sword were spiteful, malevolent and greedy...but inconsequential beyond that.\"\n\n\"But can you be certain?\" Arminda demanded pointedly, to which Lorio shrugged her shoulders as if to say, _'Believe what you will.'_\n\n\"Instinct tells me that Lorio is right,\" Islena interjected. \"These specters have not left the Land of Shades, but trying to locate them will still be a daunting task.\"\n\nDoraux's brow furrowed and she averted her eyes to the breaking surf...her personal torment laid bare for all to see. \"I don't know if any of you can truly understand this, but I had no choice but to surrender the Dragonsword.\"\n\nA profound and uneasy silence descended upon the group. It was Gillian who finally ventured forward and placed a tentative hand on Islena's shoulder. One glance into his pale blue eyes and Doraux could see that the Jerhia could commiserate with the personal anguish that had driven her to this desperate act. \"Islena, more than anyone else, I can empathize with the agony of enduring possession. Had you not relinquished the sword, it was inevitably that the virulence would have driven you to destroy everything around you...annihilating your sanity in the process. Now that the poison has been purged from your flesh, you can seek to regain the Icon. Yours was the choice of wisdom and prudence Islena.\"\n\nAround her, the others nodded their concurrence and Islena could feel herself tottering on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Fiercely, she fought back her tears and whispered, \"Thank you, Gillian. None of you can imagine how important that reassurance is to me.\"\n\nDoraux drew several tremulous breaths and mustered a thin smile. \"Now, how do I go about getting it back...I'm certainly open to suggestions.\"\n\nIt was Artumas who spoke, his voice low and thoughtful as he measured every phrase. \"Islena, the solution to that problem might well lie in the manner by which you bested your formidable friend here.\"\n\nThe deposed king inclined his head toward Lorio, whose lovely face remained impassive. Doraux's gaze shifted from one to the other and she frowned, clearly perplexed by his rather ambiguous proposal. \"I'm not sure I follow.\"\n\nArtumas drew his hand through his graying beard. \"Your ability to draw upon the might of the Jerhia collective and convey that power through Lorio's Zarcyk implies that a measure of power from the Icon now resides within you...independent of the Dragonsword and its physical proximity.\"\n\nThe former king glanced at Sormias for confirmation. \"Is this not so?\"\n\nThe Golgar nodded, his angelic countenance was inscrutable in the afternoon sunshine. \"Yes, there is a distinct and separate power within Islena. It is difficult to define its nature, but I would say that it stands apart from the puissance of the Dragonsword.\"\n\nThe chosen stared at the pair, her mind reeling under the weighty implications of what Sormias had just disclosed. Guinevere confirmed the essential truth of the Golgar's contention, though cautioned her that it was...incomplete. \"Are you saying that I no longer actually need the Dragonsword?\"\n\n\"Not precisely,\" Artumas corrected with a slight shake of his head. \"It would appear that the process of ascension, regaled in the ancient scripts, could be compared to the filling of a reservoir, though the analogy is not entirely accurate either. It would best be described as a process of inculcation. The Icon is gradually filling you with the power of the Jerhia collective, but until that process is complete...until your ascension...you will require the Dragonsword to convey the full might of the collective puissance.\"\n\nIslena nodded, instinctively grasping the gist of what the former king was attempting to communicate. A speculative gleam dawned in her emerald eyes...eyes that reminded Artumas of the Great Western Ocean that had been his constant companion for the past seven years.\n\n\"So with Lorio's Zarcyk, I was able to access the fragment of power that had already been ingrained into the fabric of my being?\" Doraux inquired excitedly.\n\n\"Exactly,\" Artumas agreed with discernibly less enthusiasm than Islena had displayed, rousing a perplexed frown from Arminda.\n\n\"How does this association aid us in locating the Icon?\" she wondered.\n\nThe deposed king turned to the Jerhia and began to patiently explain the tangent of his logic. \"Islena has developed a powerful affinity with the power of the Jerhia collective...for which the Dragonsword is a mere conduit.\"\n\n\"And so Islena should be able to communicate with the sword through the power of concentration alone,\" Lorio interjected, anticipating the direction of Artumas' thinking.\n\nEvery face turned to Doraux, each alight with keen expectation. \"It's true that I've been able to summon the Dragonsword simply by visualizing it floating towards me, but it's also true that I was acutely aware of its presence. It reverberated through my flesh like an electric current...like the crackle of lightening in a stormy sky. Now, however, that sense of connection...of proximity is gone.\"\n\n\"Distance has undoubtedly affected the strength of that intimate relationship, but I'm certain that it has not severed it entirely,\" Artumas remarked. \"It is not unthinkable that you might still be able to summon the Icon through a simple exertion of will. I would allow that, at the very least, you will be able to establish a line of communication with the sword...one that will guide you to it like a beacon.\"\n\nA contemplative light flared in Islena's limpid eyes and she turned to face Lorio. There was an aspect of solemn formality in the way that she reached out gently gripped the hybrid's firm shoulder. \"May I burrow your Zarcyk?\"\n\nThe Lamish warrior nodded without hesitation and drawing the sacred blade from its sheath, nimbly reversed the blade and handed it to Doraux. \"I am yours to command, Islena. I swear that oath before all who are here to witness!\"\n\nIslena could only nod, struggling to suppress the tears that this extraordinary woman never failed to evoke. Finally, she squeezed Lorio's shoulder as an instant of perfect emotional empathy passed between the pair.\n\n\"Well Artumas, perhaps it is best that we put your theory to the test. Seeing that there is no time like the presence, I recommend that we start now.\" Artumas nodded his agreement and the others arranged themselves in a loose circle with Islena being the approximate center.\n\nIslena sat cross-legged on the sand and held the Zarcyk loosely across her upturned palms.\n\nAn expectant silence descended on the wind-swept section of beach. Even the omnipresent squawk of the ubiquitous gulls momentarily ceased, as though the birds sensed and respected the gravity of the moment. Islena glanced briefly at the tense faces of her companions and suddenly came to understand that this was another crucial juncture in her odyssey...another small, but imperative step along her road to ascension.\n\nClosing her eyes, Doraux focused her attention inward, seeking out the wellspring of the power that was the Jerhia collective. After several moments of intense, but fruitless searching, she opened her eyes and frowned in consternation.\n\n\"There is a problem, Islena?\" Artumas inquired and though his tone seemed casual enough, she could glean the tension couched in that simple interrogative.\n\nShrugging her shoulders in embarrassment, Islena disclosed, \"Quite frankly, I really don't know how to go about this. I mean, the whole concept of conjuring up hidden reserves of magical power is completely alien to me and I haven't a clue how to do it.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Islena, I just assumed you understood something of the nature of the power residing within you and your relationship with the Icon,\" Artumas stammered, now clearly disconcerted. He glanced questioningly at Gillian, who merely shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"Well, I don't,\" Islena muttered irritably. \"This sorcery is hocus-pocus to me.\" It suddenly occurred to her that the lamentable Emian would have proven to be the ideal tutor in the matter, but Emian was dead...killed by the very sword they now sought to recover.\n\nAs was often the case, it was Lorio who offered the most cogent advice. \"Islena, it is the consensus that the power resides within you...at least to a certain degree. If that is the case, you should be able to locate it and draw it forth...to rouse it as if it was a sleeping hound. All that is required is the correct stimulus. When you bested me, that stimulus came from the proximity to death...and from pain. Essentially, you gambled that the collective would not allow me to simply beat you to death.\" Lorio's grin became crooked and inscrutable. \"A shrewd supposition as events would later attest.\"\n\n\"So you're saying that I merely have to find the right catalyst to evoke the Icon's power?\" Doraux summarized, though her tone was clearly skeptical.\n\nBy way of answer, Lorio pivoted in place and struck Gillian high on the left temple. The Jerhia swordsman crumpled to the ground in a boneless sprawl of limbs, but before he could hit the ground, Lorio kicked the legs out from beneath the former king. Lithely leaping over his prone body, she caught Arminda around the throat and roughly dragged her several paces away from the others.\n\nA dumbfounded Islena started to rise, still clutching the Zarcyk, but the hybrid snarled, \"Sit down bitch, or the Halfling will add blindness to her list of infirmities.\"\n\nFor emphasis, Lorio placed her right thumb into the soft flesh immediately next to Arminda's right eye. The girl abandoned her futile struggle and went utterly still, a tiny whimpering sibilance escaping her lips. \"Oh how gullible you are, Islena,\" Lorio declared, her voice dripping with contempt. \"Ultimately, it will prove to be your undoing.\"\n\nDoraux clutched the Zarcyk in a white-knuckled fist and cursed her stupidity. Seething with fury, she rasped, \"You miserable bitch...I should have cut your heart out when I had the chance!\"\n\nIn the next instant, the Zarcyk flared as a corona of vermillion energy enveloped the weapon. Lorio abruptly withdrew her thumb from Arminda's eye, drew the girl into a fraternal hug and affectionately ruffled her short blond hair. Then she moved over to the fallen king and assisted the stunned Artumas to his feet, helping to brush sand from his back. Turning to an astounded Doraux, she beamed a broad smile and observed, \"There...you have your catalyst...proceed.\"\n\nFor a protracted moment, no one spoke...the ingenuity of Lorio's spontaneous ploy having baffled the lot into utter silence. Finally, Doraux scowled at the Lamish warrior, discerning that a measure of the old hybrid dwelt in her yet. Lorio merely offered Islena a smile of pure empathy and gestured for her to continue.\n\nIslena drew a deep breath to steady her racing heart and shifted her attention to the Zarcyk and the lingering corona of vermillion light in which it remained cocooned. The red effulgence had guttered somewhat, suffusing Islena with a renewed sense of exigency. Almost immediately, the light flared blindingly.\n\nStill uncertain precisely what to do, Islena nonetheless closed her eyes and conjured up the image of the ruby-encrusted Dragonsword.\n\nThe Zarcyk began to emanate waves of coruscating vermillion energy and Islena correctly deduced that this was in response to the precise mental image she had constructed and her innate affinity to the Jerhia Icon.\n\nFive paces away, Artumas studied the mysterious woman's countenance carefully, marveling at her intense level of concentration. The hands that clutched the Lamish Zarcyk were white-knuckled, while the heavy muscles in Islena's arms stood out in prominent relief.\n\n' _What a truly exquisite creature she is,'_ the former king mused, wondering how Myrhia had ever conjured the temerity to risk such a brazen challenge to fate.\n\nFrom the depths of her trance, Islena focused her energy in an attempt to summon the Icon, issuing a vehement command as she had once done on the island some weeks prior. Around her, nebulous energy coalesced and swirled, enveloping the solitary woman. All at once, tendrils of pure energy reared up into the brilliant afternoon sunshine, twisting crazily, before finally spiraling off along the golden ribbon of sand, streaking to the north in a constant stream.\n\nWith the cocoon of energy, Doraux abruptly stiffened as her powerful back arched like a steel beam under extreme duress. Arminda uttered a strangled cry and started forward, but Lorio forestalled her ill-advised attempt to intervene by catching the Jerhia's wrist in a steel vice. The diminutive woman glowered at the Lamish warrior, who shook her head and cautioned, \"Not a prudent reaction, girl. That energy field will repel any perceived threat to Islena's safety.\"\n\nSensing the essential truth of this, Arminda sighed and returned her gaze to the beleaguered Doraux, whose body appeared to have been inured by the cataclysm raging within its depths. Islena's face was contorted into a rictus of agony as she focused the sum total of her concentration on drawing the sword. Somewhere on the periphery of her consciousness, she could sense its powerful presence...barely perceptibly, but undeniably there.\n\nAgain, she issued the booming mental imperative, echoing in the chambers of her mind like the reverberation of cannon fire and still the Dragonsword would not respond to her summons. In a burst of crystalline lucidity, it occurred to her that the sword could not heed her summons because it was being forcibly restrained.\n\n' _Then it is up to you to seek it out and liberate it from the miscreants who took it,'_ came the uncompromising voice of Agraria.\n\n\"How?\" Islena demanded plaintively, fearful of the notion, but discerning the unavoidable truth of this advice. Still, the energy continued to stream northward in a constant luminous flow.\n\n\"Merely allow yourself to drift...to come unbound from the moorings that hold your spirit within the confines of your physical flesh. Then, simply follow the emanations and they will lead you to the Dragonsword,\" Agraria suggested in a tone that implied that the process was every bit as mundane as walking or drawing breath.\n\nWith neither thought nor hesitation, Islena complied and in the next incredible instant, she found herself gazing down on her own energy-engulfed body. For a terrible moment, the sense of disassociation threatened to overwhelm Islena, but then she recalled her mentor's guidance and simply allowed herself to be pulled along the arcane thread of effulgence that stretched toward the distant horizon.\n\n2\n\nShe flew over the dun-colored sands at speeds that defied all plausible logic or reason, yet despite this breakneck velocity, the world around her stood out with preternatural clarity. It seemed as if she could distinguish individual grains of sand and blades of grass on the slopes that rolled away from the shore. This vastly enhanced visual acuity was at once unsettling and intoxicating.\n\nGradually, Islena became cognizant of the slow change that was creeping over the terrain as she moved further north. The vital golden sands slowly gave way to gray, sterile dirt. Though she did not possess a physical body, Doraux could also perceive a gradual drop in temperature...a chill that permeate to the very core of her astral flesh.\n\nSome deeper, atavistic intuition informed her that she was rapidly approaching a domain where no living soul must ever tread.\n\nNear Artumas' hovel, Islena's physical body trembled violently and she slowly raised her hands as though to ward off an unseen threat. The members of the party exchanged glances of helpless concern, knowing that there was nothing they could do to come to Islena's assistance. Hers was a solitary journey into the unknown and only now did the party members grasp the implications of this, knowing that Islena would have to confront whatever awaited her alone.\n\nRelentlessly, Islena's soul tore over the now blighted landscape which had quickly transmogrified into a phantasmagoria of madness. The sterile dirt beach had given way to a shore of rolling rocks and crags. Something about the frozen posture of the landscape seemed to suggest that the very land was in a state of perpetual agony.\n\nYet it was the actual rock that delineated the shore, which captured Islena's attention and suffused her fleshless being with atavistic dread. Embossed in the black and gray bed of stone were the twisted countenances of a million souls...frozen in the depths of unimaginable torment and eternal suffering.\n\nMisery radiated from the earth like the palpable, low grade heat of infection and Doraux wanted nothing more than to retreat from this enclave of misery...to flee back to the reassuring confines of her own powerful body. She might have done precisely that had it not been for the strident braying that accosted the ramparts of her mind along with the carnival house horrors unfurling beneath her.\n\nThat klaxon of alarm informed her that the Dragonsword was near. It spoke to her in a fulminating rumble, enticing her to surmount her fear and continue forward.\n\nBut forward into what?\n\nIslena gleaned that there were secrets to be revealed in this wicked place...insights that would allow her a glimpse of the very heart of this awful world. Abruptly, Guinevere...ever sage and incisive...informed Islena, _'This insidious place may well be the reason that the Land of Shades exists...to serve as a buffer between the world of mortal and this demesne of eternal torment.'_\n\nNow, the embossed faces suddenly became animated, each braying in pain...bellowing an inarticulate plea for deliverance from their suffering or for a divine intervention that Doraux doubted would ever come. A terrible and malign purpose lay couched behind this repository for spiritual torment and though Doraux could almost divine its nature, she feared that full comprehension might drive her into the embrace of utter and irreversible madness.\n\n\"Please, enough!\" she wailed, unable to endure the grim spectacle of tormented stone any further.\n\n\"Very Well,\" an inhuman voice replied, rousing a startled cry from Islena. \"I believe this is what you came to see.\"\n\nDoraux gaze was jerked skyward by the undeniable authority of the ubiquitous voice, which seemed to issue from the sky, rocks and ocean itself.\n\nThe Dragonsword, in all of its lethal majesty, hung suspended in the gray sky, its rubies flaring vermillion light to wash the macabre landscape in hues of blood and carnage.\n\nDoraux's ephemeral heart leapt at the sight of the Jerhia Icon, her terror and revulsion momentarily forgotten.\n\n\"It is truly a thing of exceptional beauty...a finely honed killing tool that I, especially, can appreciate. The power resonating within defies reason and certainly exceeds anything that a mortal should ever be allowed to wield. Still, it almost explains the foolhardiness of venturing into my demesne.\"\n\nWith a powerful exertion of will, Islena dragged her gaze away from the Icon, peering along the edges of the horizon in search of the speaker.\n\nA mere glimpse was enough to fill her heart with trepidation. The figure stood silhouetted against the top of a rocky incline, its features lost in the gloom. A simple wave of a long, elegant hand and a light without apparent source suddenly fell upon the figure, drawing a gasp of wonder from Doraux.\n\nThe figure was that of a woman...though a woman the likes of which Islena had never imagined. She suspected that even the stoic Lorio could not help but be impressed by such an extraordinary creature.\n\nThe woman was at least seven feet tall, even allowing for the perspective from which Islena now regarded the incredible creature. She was proportionally perfect, possessing a face of such radiant beauty that was difficult to gaze upon for an extended periods of time without becoming mesmerized. Yet it was not the woman's flawless pulchritude or great stature that drew and riveted Islena's slack-jawed regard...it was the stunning color of the woman's pristine skin.\n\nHer flesh was an impossible shade of gunmetal gray. Even her large, limpid eyes were composed of different shades of gray...shining luminescent spheres that bespoke a keen intelligence. The woman's exquisite body was clad in a form fitting cloak that was cinched at the waist by a serpentine belt.\n\n\"Are you...real?\" Islena ventured...thinking that her beleaguered mind had conjured this incredible vision.\n\n\"In every sense of the word,\" the woman returned evenly, \"though I've often been told that my presence is so disconcerting that I might seem like the stuff of fantasy...or nightmares. Still, I am all too real...as those souls entrapped here will readily attest.\"\n\nShe raised a heavily muscled arm (which was improbably long) and pointed toward the hovering Dragonsword. \"I imagine that you lay claim to ownership of this exquisite piece of weaponry?\"\n\nDoraux cut her gaze briefly to the Icon, wincing as she replied, \"I'm not sure anyone can claim to own that thing, but I suppose I come as close as one can get.\" Islena then returned her gaze to the inhumanly lovely creature. \"Where is this place and who exactly are you?\"\n\nThe woman threw back her head and laughed. The sound seemed to reverberate through the rock, shaking the very earth like a quake. Even in her disembodied state, Islena could feel the creature's puissance. Her every gesture hinted at limitless power.\n\n'My God, this creature might even prove a match for Myrhia!' Islena realized, the prospect filling her with ambivalence.\n\nThe woman drifted closer to Islena and in a solemn voice disclosed, \"I am Otaru Ree. These lands, into which you've encroached, are mine and are known by many names, though I have dubbed them Purgatory.\"\n\n\"Purgatory?\" Islena echoed and the words seemed to grate on her tongue like dry pebbles. \"You're saying this is a...repository for lost souls?\"\n\nOtaru Ree's broad smile assumed a feral glint. \"Lost souls...a rather deceptive euphemism for miscreants of every stripe; rapists, murderers of every bent...they all find themselves in my keeping when their mortal flame has been extinguished.\"\n\nIslena's wary gaze swept over the forlorn landscape. \"Then this is hell?\"\n\nOtaru's piercing eyes narrowed and Islena could feel a massive force rummage swiftly through her consciousness. The self-proclaimed queen shook her head, her long gun metal gray tresses swaying fetchingly. \"What an amusing, albeit infantile contrivance, but no, this is not hell as you would perceive the concept. There is no insidious, eternal retribution here. Eternal suffering hardly seems fitting recompense for sins committed over a span of time that is but the blink of an eye. Here, the miscreants fate can be likened to submerging in numbingly cold waters where all consciousness...all perception and awareness ebbs away until all that remains is the void.\"\n\nSomething in Otaru Ree's chilling description of her demesne seemed incomparably worse than the Christian concept of hell. A horrifying notion occurred to Doraux then and she inquired tentatively, \"Are you...you alone here...with these specters?\"\n\nA sudden flash of raw emotion rippled over Otaru's lovely face and flared in her expressive eyes. Islena could not be certain if that emotion was one of pain or wistful longing. Everything about this woman intimated permanence...a span of years that was beyond Islena's capacity to grasp. ' _My God...how could anyone endure this desolation for so long and possibly remain sane?'_\n\nThe question, which seemed to provide its own answer, evoked a shudder in Doraux that caused her astral form to gutter slightly. Forcing her thoughts away from the bleak contemplation of what she perceived as Otaru Ree's terrible exile, she heard herself ask, \"How did you come to be in possession of the sword?\"\n\nNow the queen's smile became absolutely predatory. \"My dominion over these lands is absolute...as the wretches who took the sword have learned to their eternal dismay. What's more, nothing that resonates with such unbridled puissance could escape my attention for long. Undoubtedly, it was you who has sporadically unleashed bursts of wild magic in recent days.\"\n\nThe last thought was offered more as a statement than a query and so Doraux responded with a slight nod. Otaru pursed her full lips and raised a long index finger to her chin, considering Islena with an unnervingly frank gaze of appraisal. \"That a mere mortal could command such magic is...astonishing.\" The queen of the purgatorial wastelands drifted closer until she towered over Doraux. \"My finally attuned instincts are telling me that you are anything but a mere mortal.\"\n\nNot wishing to be drawn into a dialogue on her nature, Islena posed the one salient question that would dictate the course her future would take. \"Will you let me have the sword?\"\n\nOtaru's eyes widened, though her alien countenance remained inscrutable. Islena held her breath, wondering what recourse would be left to her if Ree decided she would not relinquish the weapon.\n\n\"You are blunt to the point of impertinence mortal,\" Otaru intoned gruffly, thought the ghost of a smile played at the corners of her generous mouth. She abruptly raised her long right arm and splayed her fingers in a gesture of summons. Much to Islena surprise...and consternation, the sword virtually leapt from the spot where it hovered, tearing through the air with a sonorous whine, before slapping into Ree's outstretched palm. The rubies flared vermillion, causing Ree to utter a mirthful chuckle as she considered the weapon.\n\n\"That mortals would possess the audacity to create such an instrument bespeaks an incomprehensible hubris,\" Ree observed grimly. She turned her incisive gaze upon Islena and remarked, \"That one would presume that they are fit to wield such an instrument is beyond terrifying.\"\n\n\"I did not ask for this!\" Islena rejoined vehemently. She inclined her head toward the Dragonsword. \"I would like nothing better than to be as far away from that miserable thing as this universe would allow.\"\n\n\"Yet here you stand...petitioning for its return,\" Ree observed in a tone that was mordant.\n\nIslena grimaced and replied bitterly, \"I've been conscripted and coerced...subjected to every conceivable form of degradation in the name of that fucking thing...and the others like it.\" Desperately, she concluded, \"Believe what you want, but I wouldn't be here if I had any other option.\"\n\nOtaru regarded the blade with a slight frown. \"There are always options, Islena Doraux...as thoroughly unpalatable as they might be.\" She turned her regard upon Islena and again Doraux could sense a massive force permeate the fabric of her mind. Powerless to resist the violation, she merely succumbed to it and allowed Otaru Ree to delve into the deepest recesses of her mind. She was distantly cognizant of the gasp which had escaped her lips...a fraught hiss that echoed a thousand times over as Otaru's scrutiny passed through the various layers of memory and the echoing whispers of past lives lived.\n\nAs quickly as it had commenced, this plumbing of Islena's subconscious ended and Otaru drew a quavering breath, clearly unsettled by what she'd discovered. When she again spoke, the timber of her voice informed Islena just how profoundly Ree had been affected by the experience. \"What a fascinating creature you are Islena...made all the more so by the startling fact that you remain essentially oblivious to your own inherent nature. You intrigue me in ways that no mortal ever has and though it is contrary to my prudent judgment, I will return this icon to your keeping.\"\n\nIslena could not repress the sigh of relief that this apparent boon evoked. Before Islena could express her gratitude, Otaru wagged a cautionary finger and warned soberly, \"I will return the sword on the condition that you come to me...and willingly submit to my examination. I sense about you the cloying reek of great destiny and I would know its essence.\"\n\nIslena recoiled, loath to subject herself to the illuminating scrutiny of this terrifying entity. Sensing Islena's ambivalence, Ree growled, \"This condition is without latitude for negotiation, so consider carefully the consequences of your refusal, Islena Doraux.\"\n\nIslena sighed in resignation, knowing there was no way to extract herself from this latest snare. Curtly, she conceded, \"Very well, I will come to you and lay my soul bare if it satisfies your curiosity.\"\n\nOtaru smiled radiantly, but then her expression darkened perceptibly. \"You must also be aware that you and your companions are embarking on a journey into a realm from which no living soul has ever gained egress.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what you're saying,\" Doraux grunted sourly, but even as she arched a quizzical eyebrow, a part of her mind grasped the gist of Otaru's statement.\n\n\"Then let me make it exceedingly clear...you wish to enter my realm, recover this vile artifact and then be allowed to depart,\" Ree snapped, her tone suddenly churlish. \"This is a flagrant contravention of the rules that govern this demesne...inviolable strictures to which even I am bound.\"\n\nMisconstruing Otaru's intention, Islena blurted, \"You're saying that I have to die to get the sword back?\"\n\nRee waved her right hand in a gesture of impatient dismissal. \"I am telling you that all things come at a price. That too is a salient reality in this realm and indeed, in every world beyond. It is within my power to grant a dispensation...an unprecedented exception. I am prepared to extend this to you...access to and passage from my realm, along with the Dragonsword. In exchange, you will allow me unfettered access to the mystery of my essence...along with one of your companions as payment for passage.\"\n\nIn the shadow of Artumas' hovel, Islena's muscular body gave a convulsive shudder that drew worried frowns from her anxious companions. In her utter shock and dismay, Islena nearly lost control of her projected image. When she had recovered her equilibrium sufficiently to trust that she could speak coherently, she stammered, \"You're demanding a...a sacrifice?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Otaru returned flatly, her harsh tone intractable. \"I will afford you the luxury of selecting a companion to stand as payment of passage.\"\n\nEven as Guinevere voiced her admonition for restraint, Islena's volatile nature asserted itself and erupted in a profanity-laden tirade. \"You miserable fucking bitch...to even suggest a sacrifice is reprehensible and demonstrates just what kind of monster you are!\"\n\nOtaru surged forward and seized Islena's throat in a long-fingered grasp and to Islena's bewilderment, actually lifted her spectral projection skyward, until their eyes were level. As a helpless gathering gazed on in dark fascination, Islena's body was jerked into the air, where it hovered above the sand like a tethered balloon.\n\n\"Silence!\" Otaru roared and Islena could feel the reverberation shake her very essence. Yet, peering into the unfathomable depths of Ree's gray eyes, Islena could discern no genuine anger in response to her insolence. When Otaru next spoke, her tone was soft and placating...washing over Doraux like a soothing lullaby to calm a fretting child. \"Your outraged indignation confirms your essential humanity, Islena Doraux and inspires a greater faith that I have not erred in my decision to return the sword to your keeping. My demand for a symbolic sacrifice is not inspired by avarice or malice. It is simple compliance with the laws that govern this place...laws to which even I am inextricably bound.\"\n\nOtaru gently lowered Islena to the sterile dirt, her exquisite face set in a doleful expression that served as an eloquent affirmation of her contention. \"I will return to my keep and await your coming. As you travel, turn the harsh light of introspection upon your heart...perhaps it will illuminate the path you must follow...and the truth of your obscure nature.\"\n\nUnable to conjure an appropriate response, Islena merely nodded and Otaru Ree smiled, her limpid eyes alight with something that might well have been pity. In the next instant, Ree shot skyward and then streaked across the monochrome gray heavens like a comet.\n\nOverwhelmed by this latest manifestation of the terrible engine of her destiny, Islena hung her head and began to weep, believing that she lacked the requisite obduracy to sacrifice one of her companions...all of whom she had come to love to varying degrees.\n\n' _You wallowing, pathetic sap,'_ Agraria snarled contemptuously. _'It nauseates me to think that this is what I've become...a weak-willed, ambivalent drone who lacks the courage and conviction to do what is necessary to serve the demands of her destiny. You disgust me!'_ Agraria spat, flailing Islena with her disdain before mercifully falling silent.\n\nIn both the tangible and astral worlds, an overwrought Islena curled into a ball and began to cry uncontrollably. Guinevere slid forth from the shadows, yet even in her serene presence, Islena could find no comfort. _'Agraria, in all of the endless incarnations of our eternal spirit, is perhaps the most inexorable and ruthlessly pragmatic of us all.'_ The legendary queen paused and then added with a hint of exasperation, _'She also has the delicacy and sensibilities of a butcher. Nonetheless, the point which she has artlessly attempted to convey is valid. You are destined for ascension Islena and I suspect that you are the culmination of all we were intended to be. Be it as a Queen or a Goddess, we are all faced with excruciatingly difficult choices. The measure of our decency is not in the avoidance of these choices, but the compassion and humanity with which we make them. I sense no deception in Otaru Ree. If you wish to acquire this icon and continue along the path toward the Mother of Iniquity's demise, a sacrifice must be offered to the queen of purgatory.'_\n\n' _The porcelain Prima Donna speaks the truth,'_ Agraria declared. _'Do you have the courage to heed it and prove that I have misjudged you?'_\n\n' _And what if I was to choose Artumas, Guinevere?'_ Islena demanded petulantly.\n\nIt was Agraria who answered in a voice dripping with scorn. _'Then you will have demonstrated that you are not only a craven, but an insufferable fool as well.'_\n\n' _Get out of my head!'_ Islena muttered, despising the pleading note in her voice. To her surprise, the multitude complied.\n\nFeeling thoroughly dispirited by the prospect of making the harrowing decision that awaited her, Islena began the journey back to her waiting body.\n\n3\n\nWhen at last she snapped back into the confines of her powerful body, Islena was greeted by the sight of five hovering faces...each regarding her with identical expressions of deep concern. These faces suffused her with an unbearable sorrow and shame...knowing that the day would soon arrive when she would select one to die so that she could continue this nightmare odyssey.\n\n\"Islena...are you well?\" Artumas inquired, knowing that his query was fatuous even as he posed it. Her face bore the residual effects of her traumatic experience all too plainly.\n\n\"I'm fine...just exhausted,\" Islena mumbled, scarcely able to meet his gaze.\n\n\"You've located the Dragonsword,\" Lorio remarked, more as a statement than a question. Islena shifted her regarded from the Lamish beauty's face to her protruding belly and a scalding acid began to churn in the pit of her guts.\n\nUnable to endure the expectant gazes any further, Islena rose quickly to her feet and brusquely pushed past the others. They watched her stumble toward the water's edge, exchanging puzzled glances as her broad back receded into the descending gloom. Ten paces distant, she stopped and without glancing back, declared, \"I found the Dragonsword far to the north. It's in a place called purgatory...in possession of the entity that rules there. She has promised to return the sword to me, but I must go and collect it personally. This place we're going to is...disturbing, so I suggest you get whatever rest you can tonight. We'll leave come sunrise. Please...I'd like to be left alone for the remainder of the night.\"\n\nWith this, she strode off into the darkness, leaving her five companions staring after her in open bemusement. Lorio turned her gaze to Artumas and offered quietly, \"I've traveled long enough in Islena's company to know that there is something that she is deliberately not sharing with us.\"\n\nArtumas raised a graying eyebrow and intoned, \"That something is of grave consequence...judging by her demeanor. Let us hope that she will elect to share it with us before the natural course of events does so in her stead.\"\n\nChapter Twenty Three\n\n1\n\nKevlan traipsed back up the slope to join Maroc the instant that Sygeanor and her escort had vanished into the dense stand of coniferous trees. Maroc estimated that it would be a half bell before the group was in position to commence the ritual and so he burrowed deeper into the snow, trying to escape the unrelenting wind with only partial success.\n\nHe stole a brief glance at the Metocan, grimacing at the mask of intense anguish that twisted his delicate features. \"Tier Marshall, I implore you to stop this insanity before Sygeanor unleashes her sorcery.\"\n\nMaroc merely shook his head and trained his spyglass on the main entrance of the mine, where two hulking Morticants had emerged pushing a heavily laden wooden and iron cart. The Jerhia muttered a soft curse, knowing that the success of their plan was contingent upon entrapping all of Myrhia's monstrosities in the actual mine workings. Even a pair of the invulnerable beasts could bring a bloody and emphatic end to the campaign. He watched with welling revulsion as the pair easily pushed the crude conveyance through the deep mud. Coming to a halt before the perpetually burning disposal fires, they upended the cart and allowed a dozen horribly emaciated bodies to fall into the flames.\n\nThe chill air came alive with the piteous, agonized shrieks of those who were not dead, but simply too weak to continue to toil in the clay seams. A low moan escaped the Metocan's cracked lips and Maroc observed, \"On this count, the cold-hearted Ulgak is correct. This is the fate that will inevitably come to every man woman and child who now labors in these enclaves of hell. Her contention that we are granting these unfortunate souls a more merciful end than they could otherwise expect...while callous...may nonetheless be true.\"\n\n\"In my heart, I know that you don't subscribe to that idea, Maroc. It stands as a heinous violation of every principle that a Jerhia has ever fought and died for to defend. What is about to transpire here is an unconscionable act of evil,\" Kevlan argued fiercely, lancing the Maxim Tier Marshall with his scathing rebuke.\n\nThe Metocan clutched the Jerhia's shoulder and when he spoke...his voice was low and urgent. \"Maroc, does Sygeanor not fill you with a primal dread? Can you not see her for what she is?\"\n\nA thoughtful light dawned in Maroc's eyes, but when he did not immediately respond, Kevlan felt compelled to elaborate. \"At the very least, Sygeanor is a rash, impulsive and ill-tempered child, whose impetuous nature will insure a constant recurrence of the disaster that has befallen Othgol. At worst, she is a monster whose flagrant disdain for human life could well rival the very woman who has brought our world to the brink of utter ruin.\"\n\n\"I think that's a rather exaggerated depiction, Kevlan,\" Maroc disagreed with a rueful frown, though in his mind, the Maxim Tier Marshall could not be so certain.\n\n\"It is not, Maroc,\" Kevlan retorted adamantly. \"You were at Dornsark and know all too well just what this creature is capable of. She is devoid of compassion...bereft of empathy. Every subsequent act of unspeakable violence will only drive her deeper into the embrace of absolute evil. By allowing this to transpire,\" Kevlan insisted, with an all encompassing gesture toward the basin, \"We are facilitating Sygeanor's descent into black madness.\"\n\nThe Metocan fell silent, though his ragged breath came in white plumes that were quickly shredded by the wind. The Tier Marshall regarded the Metocan flatly and after a moment, admitted, \"I'm not oblivious to the warning signs...one would have to be a complete fool to not realize that Sygeanor's proclivities could easily lead her along the path to tyranny. Still, what exactly do you recommend I do, Kevlan...to prevent Sygeanor's corruption...to forestall what is to come here?\"\n\n\"To begin with, abandon this absurd campaign...you and I both know that it is a hollow gesture intended solely to bolster flagging moral. None of us could have possibly anticipated that we would indelibly stain our souls in the process. If we deliberately shade our eyes, we can still delude ourselves that Dornsark was not our doing...that we remain innocent. This, however, we undertake with eyes wide open and we shall have no such luxury, Maroc.\"\n\nAn anguished shadow passed over the Jerhia's haggard face then and he rasped, \"Kevlan, it's really not that simple. Inos and I both realize that we have an extremely dangerous and volatile beast on a very frail and thread bare leash. If I suddenly declare that this expedition is over and that we will return home, do you really believe that Sygeanor will abide by my decision and sit idly by while the expedition withdrew from Redia?\"\n\nThe expression of horror on Kelvin's face would have been rather comical had the circumstances that evoked it not been so grim. \"You are implying that you are helpless to stop her...that she has usurped command of this mission?\"\n\n\"I'm stating it overtly. Other than Myrhia and possibly Islena Doraux, Inos is of the opinion that Sygeanor may be the most powerful living being in the known world. You can personally attest to how well she responds to contradiction and given her apparent lack of any form of moral compass, she might well immolate the lot of us if I defied her and reneged. Inos and I decided that it was best if we kept her ire focused squarely upon the enemy until we could contrive a method to neutralize her threat.\"\n\nThis revelation elicited a groan of pure dismay from the placid Metocan. \"Then we've become hostages to this woman's evil endeavor.\"\n\nMaroc was about to respond when the mountain peak directly across the basin from where they lay, exploded with a titanic roar.\n\n2\n\nSygeanor stood slightly apart from Maktir and his group of acolytes and adepts as they began the channeling ritual that would eventually transmogrify solid stone into fast-flowing liquid. The group knelt next to the narrow stone chasm that snaked along a quartzite fault that ran all the way to the eastern edge of the mine workings, some two hundred paces distant.\n\nThe Natzurdan swayed slightly as they chanted. Sygeanor could discern the level of concentration and effort they were expending. It was written clearly on their faces which were perspiration slicked, despite the crisp cold of the chamber. The half-Ulgak shifted her gaze to the ring of torch-bearing Jerhia, momentarily irritated by their stoic manners and their inscrutable faces.\n\n' _I wonder if they'll still cling to their mantle of impassivity when they witness just what I unleash here?'_ she thought with her customary petulance. Of the Natzurdan Elder, she demanded impatiently, \"Have you established a connection?\"\n\nMaktir stole a brief glance at the disconcerting Ulgak and grumbled, \"Yes, she is distant, but has acknowledged both our presence...and our need.\"\n\nSygeanor responded with a sour grimace and a slight nod, having decided that the Mother was a shameful craven for fleeing in the face of Myrhia's challenge. The elder returned his attention to the ritual and the moments crawled by at a pace that Sygeanor found excruciating. Gradually, she became cognizant of a thickening of the air as a subdued red light and a barely audible hum filled the cavern, informing the Ulgak that arcane forces were rapidly coalescing around the Natzurdan earth-lore wielders.\n\nUnexpectedly, Maktir sat back on his bony haunches and regarded Sygeanor, his crag-like brow furrowed in bemusement. Sensing his disquiet, Sygeanor prompted, \"Why have you stopped...has your empathic link been severed?\"\n\nThe Natzurdan Elder shook his head and ran his right hand through his tangled beard, evidently nonplussed by some aspect of the ritual. \"This clay that the High Queen covets...it is highly conductive...dangerously so.\"\n\n\"Conductive...how so?\" Sygeanor demanded, a burgeoning thread of disquiet tempering her irritation.\n\nThough obviously perplexed, Maktir attempted to elaborate. \"This material is absorbing our magic and amplifying it exponentially as it passes through each seam.\"\n\n\"And you construe this to be a problem how precisely?\" Sygeanor retorted, not bothering to conceal her disdain for what she perceived to be his timidity.\n\nMaktir's eyes widened as if she thought she was being deliberately obtuse. \"This leaves us with no way to control or modulate the energy that you will commit to the process. The puissance could well run rampant, depending on how many seams the flow encounters as it passes through the bedrock. I strongly recommend that you unleash only a small burst of energy so that we might better assess the clay's amplification factor.\"\n\nSygeanor rolled her large gray eyes as if she'd been cursed by the company of dullards and plodders. \"You would have us risk not destroying the entire mine workings and have us swarmed and annihilated by the surviving Morticants?\"\n\n\"To do otherwise is to risk the cataclysmic destruction of entire area...ourselves included,\" Maktir persisted, appalled by her refusal to heed his advice.\n\n\"Then I would be advised that you be prepared to run, elder,\" Sygeanor retorted, her broad face split by a sardonic grin. \"Now if you don't wish to find yourself inundated by Morticants, then I suggest you resume the ritual.\"\n\nSeething with frustration, the elder plunged his hand into the small pool of liquefied rock and resumed his rhythmic chanting. The cadence of the chanting intensified and as it did, the cavernous chamber was bathed in alternating waves of blue and red light that cast the occupants in ghastly and spectral hues.\n\nSygeanor tensed as a low vibration radiated through the soles of her feet, coursing through the muscles of her taut thighs, before racing along the length of her spine. The slow building rumble informed the Ulgak that the ritual was rapidly approaching its climax and she prepared to unleash a measured burst of raw telekinetic power through the focusing lens of Natzurdan magic.\n\n\"Now Sygeanor!\" the Natzurdan elder prompted through clenched jaws and the Ulgak moved quickly to take her place at Maktir's side. Turning her face to the dour elder, Sygeanor offered the Natzurdan a cracked, humorless grin and declared, \"Now lore-wielder, let me demonstrate just what I can do.\"\n\nMaktir's eyes widened in negation, but even as he voiced his objection, Sygeanor's hand shot out and gripped his left wrist. Her fingers felt like steel pincers and the startled Natzurdan felt certain that she would pulverize his bones to dust. Instead she kept his hand submerged in the liquid stone.\n\nThen she opened her mind's eye to its full expanse and unleashed a wave of unrestrained telekinetic energy. As it was conveyed through the focal point of Natzurdan ritual sorcery, Sygeanor's unconstrained telekinetic wave tossed the adepts and acolytes into the air, scattering them about the chamber like sacks of chaff. Some struck the stone walls with a dull thud and fell to the rough floor in a boneless tangle, while the rest landed on the uneven stone, where they lay in dazed confusion.\n\nSygeanor abruptly terminated the outpouring and leapt back in one fluid motion, dragging a horrified Maktir after her. With an anguished cry, he erupted, \"You are the very definition of insanity, woman...do you know what you've done?\"\n\nSygeanor plunged her hands into the elder's thick black hair and shook the heavier man as if he was no more substantial than a rag doll. \"If you lack the courage to embrace who and what you are, this foul world will gladly rob you of your identity...a maxim which the Natzurdan people have evidently forgotten. Now, unless you wish for this wretched hole in the rock to be your final resting place, then I suggest you gather your countrymen and flee to the east as fast and far as your feet will carry you.\" She inclined her chin to the ceiling of the cavern. \"Once this ritual runs its course, there will remain not even a single minute reminder of the evil that flourished here.\"\n\nMaktir shook his head in consternation as Sygeanor released him and strode quickly toward the entrance. He noticed that while she moved purposefully, she did not run...as if she was somehow impervious to the devastation she's unleashed.\n\n' _She's hopelessly mad and in keeping with that madness, she has no conception of the potential consequences of her actions,'_ the disconcerted elder thought, but a part of his mind intimated that the truth was infinitely more complex...and sinister.\n\nGlancing around the chamber, the elder realized that even the normally unflappable Jerhia appeared to have lost their poise, not certain if they should remain with the Natzurdan or follow the unpredictable Metocan who appeared to have laid claim to the mantle of leadership.\n\n\"Help me get the unconscious out of this chamber before it becomes our tomb,\" Maktir barked and his order seemed to restore the customary Jerhia discipline. Quickly and efficiently, the Jerhia worked in pairs to squire the dazed and injured into the milky light.\n\nMaktir held his torch aloft and squinted back into the darkness only to discover that the entire chamber floor stood under a foot of liquefied stone.\n\n' _That...that is impossible,'_ he thought before he reached the conclusion that something in the clay must be sustaining the Natzurdan magic, amplifying it as it radiated out from the source. What he was witnessing was paramount to a black perversion of the very essence of Natzurdan earth lore. Shaking violently, the mortified elder turned and fled through the knee-deep snow, pursued by the specter of the blasphemy he had helped perpetrate.\n\n3\n\nSygeanor's lore-enhanced power rolled through the solid stone with a low-frequency vibration, turning basalt to slurry in its wake. When the coruscating waves of energy struck the first clay seam, it flared like an exploding sun. Along the entire undulating length of the seam, the mysterious blue clay was instantaneously vaporized, creating an intense heat and an unimaginable pressure.\n\nWith each successive seam Sygeanor's rampant wave encountered that heat and pressure intensified until eventually even the millions of tons of bedrock were no longer condign to the task of containing it.\n\nThe destabilized rock press down on the rolling river of slurry, magnifying the pressure to incomprehensible levels. When, at last, the liquefied rock slurry burst into the mine workings, it did so with the force of a raging river, filled with willful malevolence.\n\nWith a guttural rumble, the raging slurry surged through the drifts, up the vertical shafts and along the excavated clay seams...some of which were so narrow that only children could mine the small quantities of clay contained within.\n\nThe deluge swept away everything in its path. Carts, Morticants and humans alike were hauled along by the advancing juggernaut. Theoretically, the rock slurry should have reverted to solid bedrock, the very instant the earth-lore wielders withdrew their sorcery. Yet, the properties of the mysterious blue clay sustained the magic, amplifying its potency until every void in the workings was completely filled.\n\nMeanwhile, when Sygeanor's magic had vaporized a sufficient quantity of clay, the mountain above the mine literally exploded. The force of the eruption was so intense...so thoroughly devastating...that it reduced the hundreds of feel of overlying bedrock to powder. The resulting plume of black dust rose into the afternoon sky like a malignant mushroom cloud that could be seen from fifty leagues away.\n\nGradually, the plume began to settle in a hail of small pebbles and thick, cloying dust that occluded all light. In the resounding silence, premature night descended over the region like a funeral shroud.\n\n4\n\nThe concussion of the initial eruption sent Maroc and Kevlan tumbling down the slope even as the ground beneath them seemed to convulse like a dying beast.\n\n\"By the Gods, what has that mad woman done?\" Kevlan screeched as he scrambled back up the slope, even as the black cloud rose into the gray sky and spread over them like a harbinger of the apocalypse. Crawling up the snowy incline, Maroc peered over the crest of the peak just in time to see the wall of slurry spew forth from the entrance of the mine, while the upper reaches of the peak was pulverized. The outpouring inundated the basin in a matter of minutes, rising up the sides of the surrounding mountains at an alarming rate. Maroc watched in stark horror as several of his archers were dislodged from their places of concealment. They fell, screaming and thrashing, into the rapidly rising slurry and soon the entire basin came alive with a harrowing symphony of panic.\n\nNot long after reaching open air, the stone slurry immediately reverted to its original solid state, creating a perfectly level rock floor some thirty feet thick. In a matter of minutes, every trace of the slave mine had been effaced from existence...a concealed graveyard for slaves and captors alike.\n\nA deathly silence descended upon the area as the vibration in the earth abruptly ceased. Face twisted by incredulity and horror, Maroc turned to Kevlan and inquired, \"How could this have happened?\"\n\nKevlan shifted his wide-eyed regard to the Tier Marshall, his limpid eyes dulled by dejection, and simply shrugged helplessly.\n\nMaroc rose and gingerly made his way to the edge of the vertical face. He peered briefly up at the descending pall of black dust that wafted down like malefic snow, before turning his gaze upon the new basin floor. Maroc quickly deduced that his initial impression had been incorrect...not every trace of the mine's existence had been effaced. Here and there, bits of debris had been swept up to the surface, only to be trapped there once the slurry had reverted to its solid state. Here the rim of an ore cart protruded above the surface of the black stone, while there, the platform of an observation tower had been thrust into the open air before its vertical supports had been set in stone.\n\nAnd then the Jerhia's astounded gaze settled upon the sight that would haunt him until the end of his days. The head, right arm and shoulder of a solitary Morticant protruded from the newly formed bedrock. Its arm thrashed wildly and it huge head swung in frantic circles on the thick stalk of its neck as it struggled to extricate itself from it stone prison.\n\nAs a blanket of suffocating dust fell to mercifully occlude his view of this horrific spectacle, Maroc realized that the entity would engage in its futile struggle for eternity.\n\nRaising his scarf to his mouth, he cried, \"Sound the signal to withdraw.\"\n\nMoments later, a trumpeter's horn blared, its tone sounding forlorn in the gathering gloom as it echoed through the surrounding passes like a funeral dirge.\n\nMaroc gripped the left sleeve of Kevlan's coat and began to drag the dazed Metocan down the slope. With visibility limited to a few feet and the choking dust assailing their lungs, the expedition's survivors straggled towards the rendezvous area like wraiths in the mist.\n\nChapter Twenty Four\n\n1\n\nThis day, like every day that had preceded it, was one of toil, pain and omnipresent fear, but as Muragren had come to learn during her interminable sojourn in this dark and cold corner of hell, even the incisive grip of terror was eventually attenuated by the cumulative affects of drudgery and bone-deep exhaustion. Even the sting of the thin wooden lashes that the Redian guards favored had lost much of its efficacy to motivate her beyond the simple desire to avoid tending to the scars they invariably left.\n\n' _Yes, because in the filth in which we live, open wounds can fester, leading to gangrene and septic shock,'_ Muragren thought as she traipsed mechanically through the ankle deep mud of the basin. Discounting beatings and other random acts of violence, infection was the second most prolific killer of slaves in the mines...next to the dreaded bloody flux. Her gaze was involuntarily drawn to the charnel heaps, where the High Queen's luminous horrors fed the hungry pyre with a steady flow of bodies...some dead, some not.\n\nThe first time she'd been led by the disposal pyre, Muragren recalled how she had become violently ill...her nausea exacerbated by the realization that not all of the unfortunates being fed to the flames were dead. At the time, she had feared that constant exposure to this harrowing spectacle would inevitably drive her mad. To her shock and chagrin, Muragren discovered that exposure had an entirely different affect. In time, her heart had become vitiated to the gruesome sight...inured to the ineffable tragedy and horror of this blatant waste of humanity.\n\nOnly when Muragren witnessed the bodies of children being burned did she feel the stirring of a repressed, poignant emotion...a primal empathy that was otherwise dormant. This lost capacity to feel empathy and compassion troubled Muragren, who abhorred violence and brutality above all things. Even this, she came to recognize, was a mere defense mechanism...an armor to ward her sanity in a place where madness seemed unavoidable.\n\nThe disposal pyre faded from view and the slave procession moved through the main entrance into the mine workings. Muragren had always likened this moment of entry to being swallowed into the open maw and gullet of a gargantuan beast.\n\n' _Every day I've been regurgitated by the beast...but the day must inevitably come when it will consume me...a tiny morsel to satiate its voracious hunger,'_ she thought and though she was resigned to the eventuality of this fate, Muragren was quietly determined to insure that day was long in coming.\n\n' _And then there is the shaft,'_ she recalled, but quickly slammed the door on that seductive and deadly notion, knowing that it was perilous to even entertain until she was fully prepared...until she had reached the limit of her endurance.\n\nThe line traipsed into the darkness, moved along by wooden switches and an endless stream of profanity-laden degradation that the Redian keepers heaped upon the workers. Once inside the mine, the length of the line gradually diminished as groups of slave were drawn off into the side tunnels that branched out from the main drift.\n\nThe last group moved deeper into the mountain, where sparsely distributed torches cast an ineffective yellow light over the main drift's dark interior.\n\nA tall, heavily-bearded Redian lifted his switch and indicated a narrow drift to Muragren's left. She automatically veered into her appointed seam and the Redian handed her a cloth-wrapped torch to light her way. The Redian neither degraded her nor did he employ his switch as a motivation to have her step a little livelier.\n\nIn the bizarre sensibility that held sway in the mines, Muragren had earned a measure of twisted respect from both the other slaves and even the Redian overseers.\n\nShe came to the glistening face of the luminous blue clay seam, turning sideways to squeeze between the jagged wall of the drift and the heavy wooden and iron cart into which she would pile the handfuls of wet clay as she pulled them from the face.\n\nShe shrugged off her foul smelling woolen blanket and carefully folded it, before tucking it into a niche in the wall, where it would hopefully stay dry. The blanket and the burlap shift she wore were her only protection from the elements and she was vigilant in keeping both as dry as the inimical environment would allow.\n\nSlamming the torch into the sconce that had been affixed to a corner of the cart, Muragren approached the face and plunged both hands into the stiff clay. Pulling two fistfuls free, she methodically smeared a layer of clay over every exposed inch of her flesh, including her face. Only then did she commence the onerous task of tearing chunks of clay from the face and tossing them into her cart.\n\nAs she labored, Muragren reflected on the state of her miserable existence...and while it was bleak beyond words, her present circumstances had not robbed her of her spirit. Hers was the indomitable will to persevere in a place that made the very concept of survival seem like a ludicrous jape.\n\nIt was her longevity...this dogged, ferocious determination that had caused even the Redian guards to impart a grudging respect to the Fairmarch slave.\n\nOnce, in a life that seemed more like a fairytale, wistful dream than a past life lived, Muragren had been a teacher at a school for the noble born children of Fairmarch's elite. She had even served as a private tutor for Zarida Saremond...princess and soul heir to the throne of Fairmarch. Muragren's life in the idyllic town of Washburn had been one of tranquility and fulfillment, where she had been blessed with the opportunity to shape the young mind's that would someday forge the future of the nation.\n\nWhile ominous storm clouds gathered on every horizon, the young academic had been too preoccupied by what she regarded as her sacred purpose, to glean that her world was poised on the edge of the abyss.\n\nThat plunge into darkness had inevitably come with vile Myrhia's ascension to the throne of Emercia. Soon, her campaign of brutal conquest had swept into Fairmarch, but the foundations of Muragren's privileged existence had disintegrated when the enchantress's Redian vassals had stormed over the border and sacked the town of Washburn some eighteen months later. Muragren had been unceremoniously torn from her sequestered life and sent into slavery in the frigid mountains of Northern Redia. On the forced march north, she had endured beating and deprivations, yet miraculously, the fragile flower had survived, while so many had perished long before reaching the mine.\n\nAs harrowing and torturous as the nightmare trek had proven to be, the ordeal paled in comparison to what awaited them in the rugged mountains. For the first few months, Muragren had awaken each day with the certainly (and fervent hope, if she was being entirely candid) that this day would be her last...that a Redian overseer would be too zealous with the reviled switch or that her exhausted body would collapse and the horrifying Morticants would consign her wasted flesh to the disposal pyres.\n\nYet, in apparent defiance of all logic, she would invariably see the end of each day and stumble, enervated to the point of near catatonia, back up the main drift to the filthy holding pens.\n\nTo her growing incredulity, Muragren had watched as men and women...who appeared to be composed of far sterner stuff...were quickly and efficiently broken down by the unrelenting cruelty of this dreadful place.\n\nMuragren would spend long nights shivering beneath her filthy blanket, trying to rationalize the inexplicable cause of her continuing survival in the face of incomprehensible adversity. Ultimately, she had come to ascribe this anomaly to two very specific factors. The first was her tenacious refusal to succumb to the despair that had dulled the light in so many eyes and extinguished the spirit. To ward herself against this pernicious turn of mind, Muragren drew upon her wellspring of outraged indignation over the unpardonable atrocity that was being perpetrated in this remote and forgotten corner of the world.\n\nYet it was the other factor to which the slave attributed the lion's share of the credit for persevering when most perished...her finely honed intellect.\n\nIt had been her incisive grasp of her environment that had led to the fortuitous discovery that had sustained her through six and a half years of living torment. While most slaves reviled the blue clay, regarding it as a tangible manifestation of their suffering, Muragren had discerned that it held truly remarkable properties. While it was readily apparent that Myrhia's hulking Morticants had been wrought from the luminous material, it was equally evident that the clay held several other remarkable properties as well. Open sores and wounds...common conditions that accounted for untold deaths...healed with stunning alacrity when covered by the substance. The clay could further pacify aches and pains, while warding against the cruel bite of pervasive cold and dampness.\n\nIt was for this reason that Muragren had developed the unwavering ritual of slathering the miraculous clay on her body each morning. On the occasions when hunger left her on the brink of collapse, she had actually ingested small quantities of the gritty clay. Though the taste and texture were horrid, the positive effects were immediate and shocking...banishing her hunger and sustaining her through the interminable hours of back-breaking labor.\n\nIn retrospect, Muragren had never been able to decipher the mystery of why she had not elected share this astonishing discovery with her fellow slaves.\n\nShe had spent long hours pondering the implications of this selfish hoarding of critical knowledge. Only with children did the former teacher share the emollient benefits of the clay. When she came upon a child with an open sore or wound, she would cover the offending area with a salve. Even as she extended this egalitarian gesture, Muragren could not help but wonder if she was achieving nothing other than prolonging the child's suffering. It was the very young who fell quickly to the savage rigors of this wicked bastion of misery and she could not be certain if this was, in fact, a cold mercy.\n\nAs she turned back to the cart, Muragren was surprised to discover that, in her reverie, she had already filled it to capacity.\n\n\"Cart!\" she bellowed, her seldom used voice sounding scratchy and thin to her own ears. Conversation amongst slaves was strongly discouraged in the mines and it truth, there was little point to dialogue.\n\nSeconds later, a hulking Morticant loomed out of the darkness, its inscrutable countenance filling Muragren with atavistic dread. It gripped the two protruding handles of the conveyance cart and effortlessly began to haul the cart toward the primary drift, even though the cart and its contents must easily have weighed a ton. The grating sound of the wheels reminded her of a tortured scream. Shuddering, Muragren closed her eyes and settled against the wall of the drift. It required a quarter bell for the monstrosity to haul the cart to the central dumping area and back, a respite that Muragren had come to cherish...a time of perfect solitude in which nothing was required of her.\n\nThe sound of footsteps sloshing wetly through the ankle-deep mud roused her from her reverie. She opened her eyes, experiencing a rare flash of irritation at the intrusion. That irritation quickly became shock, and then burgeoning trepidation, when she recognized the man who had intruded upon her respite. She automatically dropped to one knee and bowed her head in a gesture of deference.\n\n\"Stand up straight, woman...you've got visitors,\" Chief overseer Prazharn commanded, though Muragren detected an uncharacteristic hint of uncertainty in his rumbling voice. She rose on slightly unsteady legs and only then did she notice the two others who had come in the overseer's company. The first was a mountain of a man with a forked black beard and the most terrifyingly intense brown eyes Muragren had ever set her gaze upon. In his company was a pretty girl with beautiful, flowing red hair and large, incisive blue eyes that spoke of a keen intellect and reminded her of the ocean. The girl was exceptionally tall and powerfully constructed and Muragren correctly deduced that she was the man's daughter.\n\nThey were both stylishly attired...at least, by Redian standards...and clearly affluent. Prazharn cast a nervous glance at the man and disclosed, \"This is Ghordrian...one of Redia's most powerful clan chief's. He has journeyed from Elderspire to interview you. You will answer his questions and comply with his wishes...do you understand, woman?\"\n\nMuragren nodded her head vigorously and averted her eyes, but she could clearly see that the chief overseer was perplexed by the clan chief's interest in an inconsequential slave.\n\nGhordrian placed a hand on Prazharn's shoulder and when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly smooth and refined and while his tone was polite, it carried the clear note of unmistakable authority. \"Thank you overseer...we will question the woman and I trust that you understand what will follow, should I find her answers satisfactory.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Prazharn responded in a deferential voice that stunned Muragren. Bowing slightly, he flicked a final bemused glance at the Fairmarch slave and hurried back toward the main drift.\n\nMuragren's two visitor's remained silent for several moments and she recognized their desire to insure that the trio was alone before they could commence...whatever it was that was going to transpire here, though Muragren could still not imagine just what that something might be.\n\nShe bowed her head and clasped her hands before her, while her pulse thundered in the confines of her skull and her heart pounded in her chest. She could feel the imposing weight of their appraising gazes upon her and was assailed by a moment of intense shame for having been reduced to such an utter state of abjection. Smeared in clay and attired in rags, she must have appeared like a primitive savage from a lost era.\n\nYet, along with this shame, Muragren felt a mounting, yet nebulous excitement and wondered, _'What could they possibly want with me that would warrant traveling hundreds of leagues to this forsaken place?'_\n\nNothing in her sensibilities could have prepared her for their astonishing disclosure. When Ghordrian felt confident that they were alone, he inquired, \"What is you name?\"\n\nShe raised her head briefly. \"Muragren...Muragren Eb Tamen...sir.\"\n\nShe faltered, uncertain as to the correct honorific she should use when addressing a clan chief.\n\n\"Where is you home?\" the clan chief inquired and the very thought of her lost, beloved home caused Muragren's aching heart to contract painfully in her narrow chest.\n\n\"I was born and lived my entire life in Washburn...in Northern Fairmarch, sir,\" she replied shakily, searching his heavy-featured face for some intimation of purpose.\n\n\"How long have you been in this...this mine, Muragren Eb Tamen?\" It was the girl who posed this question and in her rich, dulcet tone, the slave thought she could detect the slightest hint of distaste for this edifice of evil.\n\n\"I...I honestly don't know,\" Muragren replied with a shrug. \"It's not easy to gauge the passage of time here...though I am certain it's been some years.\"\n\nThe shimmer of something that may well have been pity rippled across the girl's broad face and she exchanged glances with the clan chief, who asked,\" And what was it you did in Washburn, Muragren?\"\n\n\"I was a teacher at a...private school there,\" she responded, though surely the idea must have seemed laughably absurd coming from such a piteous creature. Almost defensively, she elaborated, \"I taught history, geography and some humanities to the children of the nobility.\"\n\nAgain her visitors exchanged glances and the girl nodded slightly, prompting Ghordrian to smile affectionately as only a loving father could. Something of consequence had passed between the pair, some manner of acquiescence that would have profound ramifications for Muragren.\n\nIt was then that she sensed the first slight tremor beneath her feet...so remote as to be almost imperceptible. She glanced briefly at the drift back to see specks of dust wafting indolently in the torch light. The Redian clan chief was speaking again and she focused her attention on his voice, but could not entirely ignore the icy fingers of unease that now tickled the length of her spine.\n\n\"Muragren Eb Tamen, I am a man accustomed to plain speech...if Ynathreen will have you...and if you are amenable, I will take you from this place. You will return with my daughter and me to Elderspire. There, you will serve as her personal servant and tutor. The day will come when Ynathreen holds the seat of power in Redia and I would have you teach her that there is more beyond our borders than belligerent foes and lands to be plundered. Will you serve in this capacity Muragren Eb Tamen? While I am not offering you true freedom, yours will be a far more consequential purpose...and an immeasurably more pleasant life.\"\n\nFor a protracted moment, the flummoxed Fairmarch slave was rendered inarticulate by utter astonishment. Surely, this was a cruel jest...a new manifestation of the Redian's infinite capacity for unspeakable cruelty?\n\nShe searched his face for the slightest hint of deception and seeing only forthright sincerity, Muragren began to weep. Her beleaguered mind was assailed by a frenetic swirl of complex emotions that reduced her to near blubbering incoherence. This Ghordrian...this clan chief from a country that she had come to abhor...that had taken from her everything that she had held sacred in her life...was now offering her the opportunity to reclaim a measure of her lost identity.\n\nMore astounding still, he was actually giving her volition in the matter (though only the hopelessly deranged would have declined such an egalitarian offer). True, she would not be completely free, but her life would again me instilled with meaningful purpose...the opportunity to influence a young mind that would one day mold the shape of the world's future.\n\nBoth Ghordrian and Ynathreen viewed Muragren's unabashed weeping without visible reaction, but also without the cold contempt that Redian's typically expressed for what they perceived as weakness. Averting her eyes to her trembling hands, Muragren nodded vigorously and stammered, \"I...I will serve however you would have me and devote myself to your daughter's education.\"\n\nYnathreen's broad face brightened and she stepped forward, towering over the pitifully emaciated woman and wondering how such a precariously fragile creature could possibly have survived in thus ruthlessly inimical environment. With a long right index finger, she raised Muragren's chin and instructed, \"From this day forth, you will never avert your eyes when I speak to you...nor will you meekly bow your head. While you will be my servant, you will also be my tutor and during my lessons, I fully expect that you will educate me how you see fit, in whatever you see necessary to engender me with a worldly perspective. If you adhere to this one condition, I vow never to abuse or degrade you in any fashion.\"\n\nMuragren's eyes widened in amazement and she again signified her unconditional agreement with a nod, even managing to muster a smile...an expression that had been conspicuously absent from her face during her years of living interment. Ynathreen responded with a dazzlingly radiant grin that transformed her face into something breathtakingly beautiful.\n\nHeartened by the humanity residing in that open smile, Muragren conjured the temerity to ask, \"May, I ask how old you are lady Ynathreen?\"\n\n\"Fifteen...though my sixteenth name day is one month hence,\" she replied automatically and in that enthusiastic response, Muragren could discern echoes of an ingenuous young woman for whom the future held the promise of excitement and fulfillment. For her part, Ynathreen felt an immediate affinity for this wretched creature standing before her. Her gray eyes were lovely, large and luminescent above her clay-smeared, hollow-cheeked face.\n\nShaking his head resolutely, Ghordrian smiled and remarked, \"Then it is settled...from this day forth, Muragren Eb Tamen, you will serve my house in the capacity of servant and tutor to my daughter. There can be little doubt that what you have endured here is horrible beyond the capacity of words to express and though it's scant consolation for the ordeal you've endured...your days of suffering and deprivation are behind you. Now, let's find the chief overseer and see if we can arrange for a bath and some proper traveling attire for the return journey to Elderspire.\"\n\nLater, in the rare moments that allowed for silent reflection, Muragren would ponder the sadistic sense of black humor that seemed to govern the random twists of fate as it played havoc with the lives of mortals. As the trio started back toward the main drift, Muragren was abuzz with a myriad of questions that begged to be posed...the foremost amongst these being how they had come to learn of the former Fairmarch teacher in the first place. She was a faceless, disposable commodity who, to the best of her recollection, had never shared the story of her former life with another living soul since the day of her capture. That her savior had somehow discovered her identity and found her amongst the legions of the condemned seemed like an act of providence too improbable to even be termed a miracle.\n\nThey passed the narrow seam where Muragren had hidden the items she'd purloined over the years of her captivity. Two blankets and a cache of dried meat strips and two bags of clay...these were the few items with which she had schemed to conquer the wilds of Redia when she finally conjured the nerve to make her great escape. She shook her head in rueful disdain, realizing now how absurdly desperate this foolish notion truly had been. Had she mustered the courage to have made the attempt, it was unlikely that her captors would have even expended the effort of searching for her. Inevitably, she would have perished in the mountains...frozen in a permanent state of abject failure.\n\nA slight smile blossomed on her lips as she trailed after her towering saviors. It had no sooner taken shape on her thin lips than the ground beneath her feet convulsed. The very world seemed to tilt wildly and Muragren was tossed sideways, colliding with the east wall of the drift, before being pitched roughly on her face in the luminous blue muck. Despite being stunned by her abrupt collision with the unyielding stone, Muragren scrambled frantically to regain her feet. Her efforts were thwarted by a succession of concussive shock waves that reverberated through the mountains like rolling thunder. She was unceremoniously tossed about as though by invisible hands of an infuriated giant, leaving her dazed, bruised and abraded.\n\nPowerful hands gripped her woolen shift and hauled her roughly to her feet. She found herself staring directly into Ynathreen's broad face and while her expression was anxious, Muragren could see none of the incipient panic that she could hear echoing throughout the mine workings...and in her own rampant heart.\n\nThat she could maintain her composure in the face of something so thoroughly terrifying spoke eloquently of Ynathreen's mettle.\n\nGhordrian seized Muragren's thin shoulders and though he concealed it well, Muragren could see that his trepidation rivaled her own. Shaking her slightly for emphasis, he demanded gruffly, \"Muragren...is this...normal?\"\n\nShe shifted her wide-eyed regard from the Redian clan chief to the east wall and back of the drift, where several of the massive horizontal support timbers had buckled and snapped like kindling. Suddenly, with preternatural clarity, Muragren's senses became attuned to a mammoth puissance building in the solid bedrock above and to the east of where the trio now stood.\n\nIn this augmented state of perfect empathy, Muragren realized, beyond any equivocation that death was converging upon the mine like an unstoppable juggernaut. If she could not impress upon her would-be deliverers the exigency of their current situation, the day of her emancipation was destined to be the day of her death.\n\nSummoning the long-dormant air of confidence and certainty that she'd exuded in her classroom, Muragren gripped the clan chief's thick wrist. Speaking in an urgent, reasoned tone that she'd repressed since becoming a slave, Muragren insisted, \"In the years that I have been here, there has never been so much as a gentle tremor...not once! Sir, you've asked that I tutor your daughter and I assume that you have faith in the veracity of what I would impart to her. Geography...and by extension, geology was one of my specialties and I can tell you without reservation that this is no ordinary seismic event. Someone or something is deliberately attempting to destroy this mine. If you wish for your daughter to live...then we have to escape this mine immediately.\"\n\nAs if to affirm the validity of her contention, the entire mountain abruptly shuddered as Sygeanor's first wave of arcane energy devoured the first outlying clay seam. Muragren's knees buckled, but Ynathreen's large hand clamped down on her left shoulder and held her erect. Along the narrow drift from which they had just come, a fifteen foot section of back collapsed with a guttural rumble. The trio suddenly found itself enveloped by a cloud of black, cloying dust.\n\nShrieks of terror, intermingled with piteous wails of agony, informed the frantic Muragren that the structural integrity of the entire mine had been hopelessly compromised. In a controlled voice that wavered only slightly, Ynathreen rasped, \"I think we should heed her advice father.\"\n\nGhordrian regarded his daughter and in his dark eyes, Muragren could discern his ambivalence. Finally, her growled, \"Let's get to the surface and find the overseer. If this is, indeed, an attack...he must be told.\"\n\nHe pivoted quickly and started up the drift. Still holding Muragren's shoulder, Ynathreen began to squire the Fairmarch slave after her father.\n\nA flat, dispassionate voice spoke in Muragren's mind then, echoing with the unmistakable power of prescience. ' _If you wish to live, you must get clear of this mountain. To return to the basin is to go willingly into the embrace of certain death.'_\n\n\"Not that way!\" The words, fraught with exigency, leapt from her mouth even before she could give thought to what she was about to disclose. Both Redians turned and looked at her questioningly and after a moment's hesitation, Muragren divulged the secret that could well herald her death, even if she managed to survive this disaster. \"There is another way that will lead us to the surface and away from the mines. Please...trust me!\"\n\nGhordrian and Ynathreen exchanged glances and though a spark of suspicion had dawned in the clan chief's eyes, surprisingly he deferred to his daughter. She turned to Muragren, her intense blue eyes flashing an implicit warning, and commanded, \"Lead us out of here...but if you've deceived us...\"\n\nShe allowed the threat to hang unspoken between them and Muragren merely nodded. She sprinted into the darkness, retrieving the one remaining torch from its sconce, before turning into the excavated side vein. Behind her, the two Redians exchanged puzzled glances, but quickly hurried after the flickering torch light.\n\nThe vein twisted like the passage of a snake, the hollowed seam slithering through the rock as it followed gaps between the basalt plates that composed the bedrock structure of the mountains.\n\nMuragren's breath came in ragged gasps, but she forced herself up the rapidly increasing grade, spurred on by the heavy tremors that now assailed the stone in a constant barrage. She stopped briefly and reached into a niche in the wall to retrieve her hidden cache. Turning back, she thrust the sack of frozen clay into a mystified Ynathreen's arms and remarked, \"We're going to need this.\"\n\nThe incline's sharpness hindered their progress, but Muragren would not be deterred. Black dust cascaded down upon the trio in a constant stream now as the mountain's spasmodic quaking declared the rapid approach of its total collapse.\n\n' _Just a few minutes more...please don't let me die in this wretched place.'_ Muragren's frantic plea struck her as futile even as it echoed in the confines of her skull.\n\nShe could feel the downdraft of frigid air on her face and knew they were in close proximity of the surface. Muragren deliberately turned her thoughts from the daunting fact that the final section of the drift terminated in a narrow vertical shaft that was at least twice her height, reasoning that the trio could work together to surmount this final obstacle.\n\nPreoccupied by consideration of this last challenge, Muragren was startled when she was suddenly forced to turn sideways to maneuver through the last section of drift before reaching the vertical shaft to open air. She pushed through with relative ease and turned back to see Ynathreen straining to squeeze through the jagged opening. The last time she had risked traversing this passage, Muragren could recall no such restriction. Holding her torch aloft, she quickly deduced that the upheaval had caused the walls to shift, severely constricting the passage. Ynathreen gave one titanic push and stumbled clear, but when her eyes found Muragren's, they were alive with absolute horror. A current of pure empathy passed between the pair and a groan of knowing despair escaped the slave's cracked lips, filling the narrow chamber like the strident hiss of a boiling kettle.\n\nGhordrian's next fateful utterance confirmed Muragren's worst fear. Simple and flat, his quiet declaration carried with it a devastating note of grim resignation. \"I can't get through.\"\n\nYnathreen scurried back to the choke point and fell to her knees. Muragren cast a longing glance at the short length of drift leading to salvation and moved back to join the stricken girl.\n\n\"Reach out...I'll help pull you through,\" the girl insisted, attempting to sound resolute, but wavering on the edge of hysteria. Muragren needed only a single glance to know that Ghordrian's mountainous bulk would never fit through the jagged, unbending opening.\n\nAnother titanic rumble seized the mountain, shaking it violently in the way a terrier will belabor a rabbit in the deadly vice of its jaws. As if to mock their plight, the constricting section slumped until the opening had diminished to two hands' width at its widest point.\n\nYnathreen's heart-wrenching wail of negation tore through the stone gullet of what had become her father's coffin.\n\n\"Go girl!\" Ghordrian commanded. \"Yours is a destiny that is of far greater consequence than my death. If you should die here, then everything we've labored to fashion will be rendered meaningless. Now, for the sake of my memory and for the future of Redia...Go!\"\n\nYnathreen's hand fluttered to her mouth as a strangled cry of anguish escaped her full lips. The fall of grief-fueled tears commenced, but the powerful girl turned and brushed roughly past Muragren, stumbling blindly into the vertical shaft where she quickly vanished.\n\nMuragren started to follow, but Ghordrian called her back and now his voice was rife with anguish. \"Muragren Eb Tamen, you must see my daughter safely to Elderspire and devote yourself to her enlightenment. She is Redia's one true hope for salvation.\" He forced his heavy cloak through the opening, along with an intaglio on a heavy iron chain. \"This cloak will serve you well...give this token to Ynathreen.\"\n\nWith this said, he sank into the darkness like a drowning man receding into black waters. Muragren, despite her abhorrence for Redia and its brutal, remorseless people, felt an incisive stab of pity for the stranger who had been the first Redian to display even the slightest hint of compassion towards her since the day his savage brethren had first taken her from the academy at Washburn.\n\nA spider web of cracks appeared in the walls and back of the tunnel and Muragren knew that it was just moments from caving in. As she half ran and half stumbled towards the bottom of the short vertical raise, she could feel a massive force vibrating beneath her feet. She peered up and saw only gray, empty sky.\n\n\"Ynathreen!\" she cried as her heart contracted painfully in her chest, fearing that the girl, in her outrage and grief, had simply abandon Muragren to the same fate as her lost father.\n\nFor what felt like an eternity, the Redian girl did not appear and Muragren resigned herself to the grim fact that she was about to perish on the very edge of freedom.\n\n\"At least I'll die with the open sky in my eyes,\" she whispered forlornly, taking a small measure of solace in this cold consolation.\n\nThen Muragren's view of the gray sky was occluded by Ynathreen's inscrutable countenance. She had stripped off her heavy cloak and tied it about her waist and now she reached her long right arm down the shaft with her fingers splayed. Mechanically, she instructed, \"If you wish to live, you're going to have to jump.\"\n\nMuragren nodded dutifully and bending at the knee, propelled herself upward...only to fall a hand span short of Ynathreen's grasp. The girl rolled slightly to her left and stretched to the precarious edge of balance. \"Again...as if your life depends on this next jump...which it does.\"\n\nMuragren took a deep breath to steady her ragged respiration, bent and leapt, arching her back and twisting in an attempt to maximize her reach. To her own utter astonishment, her fingers wrapped around Ynathreen's bulging, muscular forearm, just beneath the elbow, and the girl's powerful hand locked on her slender arm like a vice. In the next instant, Muragren was wrenched effortlessly out into sweet, open air, marveling at the fifteen year old girl's astonishing display of raw power. Ynathreen sat Muragren down just as the most powerful quake yet ripped through the disintegrating bedrock.\n\nMuragren came perilously close to toppling back into the raise, but the Redian swept her up in one thickly muscled arm and threw her unceremoniously over her left shoulder. Then, with her powerful legs and one free arm pumping like a charging stallion, Ynathreen raced down the steep slope, plowing through the thigh-deep snow like an avalanche.\n\nThe pair managed to reach the tree line when from behind there came a titanic eruption that reverberated through the heavens like the voice of eternal damnation.\n\nChapter Twenty Five\n\n1\n\nNeither Islena's mood nor her reticence had changed when she awoke on the morning following her astral journey into the realm of Otaru Ree. She arose with her exquisite countenance beset by brooding shadow and tersely informed the others that they should depart at once.\n\nThe other five companions exchanged quizzical glances, knowing that something extraordinarily bleak was plaguing Doraux...something that could well have momentous impact upon each of them. Despite this, none of the five was willing to confront Islena over her sudden withdrawal behind a wall of cold, aloof detachment. Even Lorio, who had always been straightforward to the point of bluntness in her relationship with Islena, did not approach the brooding, would-be savior. Instinct informed the immortal that Islena Doraux now found herself in the jaws of a conundrum, from which only she could extricate herself.\n\nUnder this pall of dismal silence, the six commenced the next leg of their journey. Before departing, Artumas lingered a moment and cast a final glance at the hovel and the small section of beach where he had spent the last seven years of his solitary exile.\n\nAs Arminda came tentatively to join the legendary king, a complex array of emotions washed over his weather beaten features. The diminutive Jerhia was surprised to see that the foremost of these appeared to be wistful regret. He became aware of her scrutiny and offered her a sad smile, admitting, \"I'm rather startled by the degree of poignant sorrow I'm feeling over the prospect of leaving this place for the final time.\"\n\nHer brow furrowed slightly, finding it hard to imagine that he could view his departure with anything other than euphoria. The deposed Emercian king appeared to intuit her puzzled reaction because he went on to elaborate on the underlying cause of his emotional ambivalence. \"There is a certain catharsis in solitude, Arminda...especially in a place that has been unsullied by the intrusive foot print of humanity. The circling sun, the brilliant gleam of the stars in the firmament, the surf and the salt-stung ocean breeze; the permanence of these things seems to mock the hyperbole of the great human drama. This is the ideal place for introspection...for the framing of one's life in the proper context and perspective. Here, I was able to discard...albeit with great reluctance...the fallacies and delusions that had defined much of my life before Myrhia consigned me to its keeping. In my years here, I divined a portion of my true nature and I may go forward with what remains of my life with a clear and unfettered view of my purpose. For this reason, I owe this place a debt of gratitude and regard my leaving with an incisive twinge of regret, though that may be hard to imagine.\"\n\nArminda's thoughts drifted back to her initial reaction when she had first come upon the great western ocean and she offered the high king a nod of commiseration. Peering out over the vast shimmering expanse of green waters, she asked distantly, \"Do you think we'll find the remaining two Proclamations and even if we do...will it be enough?\"\n\nArtumas regarded the Jerhia thoughtfully and then shifted his gaze to Islena, who stood alone, grappling with whatever onerous burden had been imposed upon her. \"I believe that Myrhia's demise is inevitable, though if you ask me to substantiate that bold prediction, I will tell you plainly that I cannot. Considering our present circumstances, your skepticism would be well warranted.\" He paused for a moment and added cryptically, \"You ask if it will be enough...my greatest misgiving is that it will be too much.\"\n\nWith this, he hefted his apportioned bag of rations onto his shoulder and began walk north along the golden strand, sparing a brief glance at the hovel and his harvested garden. Arminda stared after the departed king, feeling both fearful and mystified by his final puzzling remark.\n\n2\n\nUnlike the arduous and often intensely harrowing trek to reach the western shore, the party's march along the golden sands was as pleasant as circumstances and purpose would allow. The early morning air was warm, but its enervating effects were attenuated by the prevailing breeze that blew in with the ocean surf.\n\nSormias ranged ahead, while the five land bound companions moved steadfastly after the Golgar. The winged wonder flew forth, scouring their forward path for the slightest hint of lurking menace, but as the morning flew by without incident, it became apparent that this pristine ribbon of golden sand was a requiem into which the horrors of the Land of Shades could not venture. For the first time since crossing the Hiberas, the members of the party began to visibly relax and the consuming pall of dread and desperation began to lift...if only marginally.\n\nOnly Islena Doraux did not share this sense that they had entered a period of much needed respite. She traveled a dozen paces behind her four companions, keeping her gaze deliberately down cast. The strains of laughter reached her ears, causing her to frown sourly.\n\n' _I wonder if you'll be quite so blithe when you discover what awaits you when we finally reach Otaru Ree's cheerless enclave,'_ she thought peevishly, irritated by their levity and foolish complacency. Part of her knew precisely how unfair this chastisement was. All had suffered wretchedly and deserved whatever small period of grace this idyllic place could provide. As much as she grasped the fundamental truth of this, Islena was powerless to repress this burgeoning sense of resentment in the face of the terrible decision that she would soon have to make.\n\nA part of her was sorely tempted to apprise them of the exact nature of the bargain she'd reluctantly struck with Otaru Ree in the hopes that, to a one, they would emphatically reject the idea. Tempting as the notion was, Islena was acutely aware that they would never reject her exorbitant demand. On the contrary, they were likely to bludgeon each other in an attempt to be the one sacrificed to the great and noble engine of Doraux's destiny.\n\n' _Then by all means, let them have their moment of ultimate glory,'_ a voice whispered seductively in her frazzled thoughts...and it was this new voice...facile and persuasive...that instilled a soul-deep terror in her vacillating heart. _'Is there one of these so-called companions that you would place above your beloved son? Even if the deaths of the lot of them were required to facilitate Allan's rescue, could you truly say that you would not pay the price without the slightest hesitation?'_\n\n' _You must not listen, Islena!'_ Guinevere advised her gravely. _'This is the voice of ruthless expedience that will lead you along the path to tyranny and soul-consuming darkness...you must be wary of its subtle temptation.'_\n\nFor the first time since her appearance on the island, Guinevere's tone grated on Islena's nerves. It was all fine and well for her to succumb to the dangers of succumbing to dark logic. It was not her beautiful son...helpless and terrified...in the clutches of a monster who had absolutely no compunction about harming him if the situation required. If Islena recalled the myth correctly, Guinevere had been childless and thus her opinion on the matter was baseless.\n\n' _Even I am not so obdurate as to not recognize how cruelly unfair that vapid thought is,'_ Agraria retorted. _'It also demonstrates how remarkably ignorant you remain of your true nature.'_\n\n\"Oh shut the fuck up!\" Islena muttered angrily, drawing puzzled glances of concern from her companions. Arminda and Lorio exchanged worried glances, recalling the other occasion when Islena had been beset by an intense internal conflict.\n\n' _Hah! I am not demure Guinevere...to be silenced by a sharp tongue and a crude vulgarity. Though you may be the incarnation closest to whom and what I was, you are still naught but a whining brat. If I could manifest separately in the physical world, I would take great pleasure in beating you like a stubborn mule just to hear the satisfying sound of your plaintive bleating.'_ Islena had little doubt that this fearsome creature would do precisely that given the chance.\n\n' _Agraria, please, this is hardly productive,'_ Guinevere insisted, causing Islena to smile at the absurdity of this internal dialogue. _'Islena, she is correct in asserting that you remain ignorant of the salient truth of your nature. She and I...and all the others who reside within you...are not entities separate and apart from who you are. It's crucial that you not misperceive the essence of who we are...who you are.'_\n\n\"This is still all arcane prattle,\" Islena grumbled, growing weary of these ambiguous allusions to her nature.\n\n' _Then I will speak plainly, Islena,'_ Guinevere retorted, her sharp tone suggesting rare impatience. _'You are a...continuation of one eternal personality...the latest incarnation of a perpetually growing cumulative whole...another layer of growth, if you will. Essentially, your existence is just another facet of a single personality.'_\n\nIslena came to a stumbling halt then, her luminous green eyes springing open like green shutters, stupefied by the concept. \"You're saying that I merely carry on where you left off?\"\n\n' _At last she sees,'_ Agraria intoned sardonically as if Islena was the most obtuse creature she'd ever encountered.\n\n\"Then I must have been one miserable bitch in your skin,\" Islena retorted mordantly.\n\n' _You can't begin to imagine,'_ Agraria returned and something in her blithe tone suggested that she was infinitely pleased by the notion. _'Just where do you think your surliness comes from, brat. The next occasion you encounter your woeful excuse for a husband, you should allow me to guide your hand.'_\n\nThe thought of Ben and what his traitorous actions begat, evoked a wave of burning bile in the pit of Islena's guts. Sensing Doraux's despair at the mention of her husband's name, Guinevere attempted to guide Islena's away from its contemplation. _'It is imperative that you grasp this Islena...those within you have experienced everything that you've experienced...the joy, the disappointments, the moments of euphoria and despair...we have lived them along with you. When your time of passage comes, you too will experience viscerally the life of our next incarnation...when we are again reborn.'_\n\nIslena stopped and her lower mandible dropped, mortified by this shared intimacy...this colossal violation of privacy. Guinevere was again speaking and her next disclosure was utterly devastating. _'So you see, Islena...I have experienced the pain and wonder of childbirth. The thought that Myrhia has your son...our son...is well near too excruciating to endure...but endure it we must. Within us is an inculcated purpose that transcends the demands of our current lives. Ultimately, we can do naught, but serve that purpose...whatever the cost.'_\n\n\"Then the lot of you...whoever you might once have been...are going to learn that I have my own mind...my own volition. I'm sick of being led by the nose,\" Islena snarled. Agraria's sardonic laughter echoed down the corridors of Doraux's consciousness as the other facets of her personality withdrew, allowing her time to reflect on all they had divulged.\n\n3\n\nAs morning relented to afternoon, Islena struggled to distract her thoughts from Guinevere's disturbing idea that she was just another layer of a collective consciousness. While the notion was utterly preposterous, it frightened her on an atavistic level...hinting at a profound truth that lay mired in deep shadow.\n\nWatching the hypnotic passage of the spectacular landscape, Islena felt an overwhelming compulsion to simply desist...to repudiate the concept of inexorable destiny. She wanted only to settle onto a dune and with her hands folded beneath her head, turn her face to the sun and let it kiss her naked flesh, while the days turned lazily to years. It was a ridiculous fantasy of course...Islena could hear Agraria's snort of derisive laughter. Thus Islena trudged toward her grim encounter with Otaru Ree and the ineffably horrible decision she would be required to make once she came before the queen of purgatory.\n\nShe wanted desperately not to surrender to the temptation, suspecting that Guinevere's assessment of the consequences was chillingly precise. Sacrifice in the name of expedience was like a seed, the germination of which must inevitably be the weed of tyranny...a vile plant not easily extirpated once it had taken root in the dark soil of her heart. As badly as she wished not to entertain all thoughts of this terrible choice that stood before her...knowing that consideration was the first step towards acceptance...Islena nonetheless found herself pondering the detail of Otaru Ree's devil.\n\nHer gaze swept the backs of her four land-bound companions and then shifted up to the soaring Golgar...her regard drawn almost of its own accord.\n\n' _Islena, turn a thought to which life you would trade...in exchange for precious Allan,'_ the lilting voice of expedience recommended sweetly. _'Surely there is one amongst them who you do not value so highly, that you would sacrifice your own son to see them live?'_\n\nAs much as Islena wished to banish this train of dangerous contemplation from her mind, she found herself succumbing to its allure. Lorio, heavy with child, had suffered more than any and had done so out of the sole motivation of love for Islena. This, combined with the inescapable truth that she had been culpable for much of Lorio's misery, excluded the Lamish beauty from consideration.\n\nHer gaze next fell upon the cherubic face of Arminda. The Jerhia's pretty, serious visage evoked painful memories of Amrand...her stalwart and noble brother, who had died while attempting to lead Islena to the west. Islena's only recompense for his efforts had been the mercy of a cold death on the tip of Ynthrax's dagger. For that debt alone, Doraux decided to exclude her from consideration.\n\nShe peered up at Sormias, shielding her eyes against the brilliant afternoon sunshine as the beautiful Golgar executed a graceful falling spiral against the backdrop the pristine blue sky.\n\nThat wondrous image evoked recollections of his scent as his hands caressed her breasts and his manhood filled her like a healing balm. Islena understood that...if she was to survive this ordeal...she would require his artistry again...would need to seek solace in the powerful embrace of his alter ego. On a more prosaic tangent, it had been Sormias who had saved her from the spider's pernicious venom when it had seemed inevitable that she would be lost to the permanent embrace of madness.\n\nAs her eyes happened upon the deposed king, Islena was assailed by a rush of complex and discordant emotions. She gleaned that this reaction was the consequence of the complex relationship which her past incarnations had shared with the man.\n\n' _Champion of the light,'_ Guinevere offered and in the murmuring expression, Doraux could detect both reverence and sorrow. From Agraria, she divined an entirely different and far less complimentary reaction. The disparity between their perceptions held a significant insight, but Islena was too distracted by her exercise to give it thought...even though it held a critical kernel of information regarding her own identity.\n\nArtumas would be a crucial key in locating the remaining two Proclamations and thus he too was exempt from Otaru Ree's demand for payment...which left the Jerhia Swordsman...Gillian.\n\n' _And is there any better to serve in the role of sacrificial pawn,'_ the treacherous voice observed. _'Was this not a man dispatched to be your executioner...if it appeared you might stray from the path? He is a devious, untrustworthy rogue who would plant a dirk between your shoulder blades...while inquiring after your good health. What delicious irony it would be if he suffered the same fate he intended to impose upon you. You are left with a choice that is, in fact, no choice at all.'_\n\nDoraux grimaced and a seductive whisper lapsed into a satisfied silence. Her gaze fell upon the slender, graceful Jerhia, who had been all but restored to his former self. She pictured his customary sardonic smirk and felt her anger begin to churn. It was true...of all her companions, Gillian was the one with whom she was most distant...a man whom she would hardly characterize as likeable and...\n\nShe stopped abruptly, severing the flow of thought with the alacrity of a guillotine. She did not need Guinevere to point out the inherent dangers of engaging in this manner of speculation.\n\n' _Ah, but the moment will inevitably come when you will be required to choose, Islena,'_ the voice informed her patiently.\n\nIslena's frown deepened and she trudged on dejectedly, knowing that it had spoken the truth.\n\n4\n\nIslena called a halt to the day's march as the sun hung low over the western horizon. Gillian and Arminda set about building a fire, while Lorio settled onto a grassy berm to watch the sunset. Islena experienced an intensely poignant moment as she surreptitiously watched the Lamish beauty, who gazed at the glorious sunset, her face set in the ghost of a smile as she gently caressed her swollen belly.\n\nIn that simple gesture of tenderness, Doraux glean the strength of the love and private delight which the enigmatic beauty derived from the thought of her unborn child. The astounding sentiment spoke eloquently of the woman's inner beauty...a beauty that was easily overlooked in the face of her often surly exterior.\n\n' _Still, to harbor anything but abhorrence for a child conceived of rape...even a saint wouldn't have that much forbearance,'_ Islena marveled...knowing that for her, the idea was simply inconceivable. _'Lorio may be many things...but a saint is not amongst them...so why regard this child as if it had been conceived from the greatest of loves?'_\n\nShe then recalled a conversation the pair had exchanged on the day of Lorio's return in Othgol. The Lamish warrior had been under Myrhia's thrall then, but Doraux still believed that the sentiment Lorio had expressed that day had been sincere. Her father had betrayed her and he, along with the rest of her clan, had been systematically cleansed by Myrhia's army. The Lamish beauty feared that, should they miraculously vanquish Myrhia, Islena would return to her old life and she would be left utterly alone. A child, she had claimed, would bestow purpose upon her life and serve as a foundation for rebuilding her people.\n\nBeneath that noble sentiment, there existed an immobilizing fear of loneliness...of a vast emptiness beyond imagining, or so Islena suspected. Islena felt her heart constrict in pity and she felt herself tottering on the brink of tears.\n\nA shadow fell across her brow then and her face jerked up to find Artumas peering down at her, his earnest blue eyes alight with concern. Softly, he inquired, \"Are you well, Islena?\"\n\nIslena savagely dragged the heel of her palm across her eyes, pointedly ignoring the sardonic rejoinder that Agraria suggested. In a voice rife with impatient irritation, she instead replied, \"As well as one would expect, given my circumstances.\"\n\nArtumas shook his head, bemused by his ineptitude. Apologetically, he remarked, \"I cry your pardon good lady. That was a decidedly fatuous question. I'm afraid that my conversational skills have grown rusty over the course of my exile.\"\n\nIslena waved a dismissive hand, prompting the deposed king to purse his lips. The enormity of the burden which she had deliberately elected not to share was readily apparent...declared plainly by the shadow that fell across her lovely face like a pall. \"Islena, I know that the day's march has been long, but may we walk awhile?\"\n\nDoraux simply stared up at the Emercian for a long moment, trying to gauge the shape of her reluctance to engage him in conversation. _'You're afraid of what he might reveal...and what you might learn about yourself. How many more cataclysmic disclosures can you suffer before your identity evaporates like mist before the morning sun? Once the last of your long-harbored delusions have been eroded to dust...what will you become then, Islena?'_\n\nDespite the dread of this insufferable illumination, Islena fetched a wary sigh and sprang lithely to her feet...inclining her head back the way they had came. Artumas smiled warmly and set out along the sandy strand. Before moving to follow, Islena offered Lorio a wave and a smile. The Lamish beauty responded with a radiant grin and an enthusiastic wave that left Islena feeling ashamed of her reticent behavior of the day.\n\nShe hurried to catch up with the deposed king and together, they walked along in silence until reaching a small, particularly scenic cove. By unspoken agreement, the pair settled onto a flat shelf of rock near the water's edge. Though Islena tried mightily to ignore the nascent stirring, her senses thrummed with the electric sensation that something of momentous consequence was about to pass between the pair. The idea was both exhilarating and terrifying. Artumas sat on the cool stone and crossed his arms over his knees, squinting into the setting sun, which fired the world in innumerable shades of red and gold. He inhaled deeply and without glancing at Islena, remarked thoughtfully, \"With natural splendor such as this...a scintillating bounty for all to indulge freely, it's hard to imagine that mortals could fall to endless conflict and quarrel...to embrace hatred and the other ugly emotions that often seem to define our nature.\"\n\nAgraria snorted her boundless disdain, ever contemptuous of rambling...and to her mind...pointless philosophy, a trait that Islena shared, though perhaps less vehemently. \"Sadly, not all the world is so verdant. I'm not sure if yours is the same, but in my world, often such places are monopolized by the wealthy and powerful...at the exclusion of everyone else.\"\n\nNow it was Artumas who sighed. \"This is a sorry truth Islena and one not easily altered.\" He paused briefly and then tentatively moved towards the purpose of this conversation. \"Islena, I am hardly in a position to offer counsel in light of the course my life has taken, but if you are willing to indulge me...I would offer you a word of advice.\"\n\nHe hesitated and Islena, despite her fervent desire to simply decline, nodded her acquiescence. Artumas smiled his disarming smile. \"I won't tell you that I commiserate with your plight or can grasp the enormity of the burden which fate has imposed upon you...frankly, it dwarves my ability to comprehend. Still, I feel compelled to tell you that you need not carry this burden alone.\"\n\n\"Really, Artumas?\" Islena snapped and her tone was a blend of sardonic irritation and bitterness. \"It seems to me that fate singled me out with its prophecy and dropped the weight of the world squarely on my fucking shoulders. My every action...my every act of impetuous misjudgment...has left an indelible scar on those people it hasn't killed outright...so please, spare me the platitudes about this being a team effort. These people are just fodder for the sick destiny I've been shackled with.\"\n\nArtumas' eyes widened, nonplused by the intensity of her vitriol. \"Your ordeal yesterday was...harrowing. Will you not speak of it, Islena?\"\n\nDoraux regarded the former king with an expression of unadulterated misery...and the vast shadow of terror. Shaking her head vigorously, she rasped, \"I just can't. It's too horrible and I'm afraid that, if I give it voice, it will become carved in stone. Please, respect that...I'm begging you!\"\n\nDiscerning the desperation couched beneath her entreaty, Artumas agreed with a thoughtful nod. \"Despite what I may have become, I was once a capable...perhaps even formidable leader. In you, I recognize all of the characteristics of a legendary leader...one who can inspire both faith and devotion without conscious effort...by the sheer efficacy of personality alone.\"\n\nIslena started to raise an angry protest, but Artumas forestalled her objection by placing a placating hand on her forearm. \"I have known your companions only for a day, but I can clearly see the love and reverence they feel for you. I doubt that there is one amongst them who would not willingly die on your behalf...this is especially true of the ferocious Lorio.\"\n\nA strident hiss of pure despair escaped Islena's lips and hovering on the brink of tears, she beseeched, \"Please Artumas...Stop! No more...please!\"\n\nDisconcerted by her vehemence and her close proximity to emotional apoplexy, Artumas relented. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as the sun descended beneath the horizon and the stars commenced their well-rehearsed celestial dance. Abruptly, Islena turned to the former king and gripped his wrists in a stunningly powerful grip that caused the Emercian to wince. Her eyes blazed with an eager hopefulness that reminded him of the exuberance of a small child. \"Artumas, you're as close to an authority as there is on these Proclamations and this prophecy...is there any chance that I could put Myrhia in her fucking grave without the Dragonsword?\"\n\nArtumas blinked and a rippled of incisive pain flared over his tanned face...there and gone in the blink of an eye. Still, Islena saw it clearly and correctly divined its cause, though the revelation staggered her.\n\n' _He still loves her!'_ she thought, though the notion seemed ludicrous in the extreme given the scope and enormity of her betrayal. _'Despite everything she's done...all of the misery and carnage she's caused, there yet remains a part of his heart that loves her.'_\n\nArtumas seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil. His eyes narrowed and he stroked his chin pensively. \"There is much about Myrhia that I can barely grasp. I have to confess that I find your account of her dark exploits incredible. Nonetheless, if even a portion of what you've related is rooted in fact, then it would seem only logical that a greater force would be required to vanquish her. In terms of the Proclamations, the old texts are explicit...especially for augury, which is normally deliberately obscure. If you are the one, then all three Proclamations are required to precipitate your apotheosis. I must caution that I place very little stock in the concept of Gods and Fate.\"\n\n' _Only confirming the fact that he is a narrow-minded fool!'_ Agraria barked in the confines of Islena's mind. Islena accepted Artumas' evaluation with a tacit nod, though she was clearly crestfallen. Artumas astutely guessed her original motivation for the question, correctly surmising that this Otaru Ree's price for the returning the Dragonsword was exorbitant beyond all reckoning, though its shape and texture remained vague. Morosely, Islena inquired, \"Artumas, do you have an intuition that you and I have met before...that we know each other?\"\n\nThe deposed king's blue eyes narrowed and he inhaled sharply, but it was emphatically clear that Islena's casual query had roused no small degree of discomfort. Tentatively, he revealed, \"I had a vision of your coming and though you wore the face of a stranger, I was left with the overwhelming impression that we knew each other as intimately as two separate souls possibly could. I can only imagine how absurd that must sound.\"\n\n\"Not absurd at all, Artumas,\" Doraux returned quietly and then briefly recounted the tale of the disconcerting vision that had set her on this dark odyssey. The Emercian's discomfort grew geometrically, further exacerbated when Islena divulged, \"There's more, though I've come to suspect that what I'm about to tell is but a small fragment of a broader truth...something that may have everything to do with this disaster I've been drawn into.\"\n\nThe High King nodded expectantly and Islena proceeded with the story of her experience prior to being publicly flogged on the island. When she concluded her account, she shivered...clearly recalling the bite of the knotted rope on her taut flesh, knowing that she would carry these indelible reminders of her ordeal for the remainder of her life. Despite the descending gloom, Islena was viscerally aware of how deeply her tale had unsettled the king. \"Artumas, do you have any intimation of a... a past life...that your current life is just another segment of a much longer existence?\"\n\n\"Not precisely,\" he began after a protracted pause. \"I've never admitted this to another living soul...especially Myrhia...but I've always been plagued by the abstract sense that I have been guided through many of the many critical junctures of my life. Certainly I've never experienced anything as specific or detailed as you have. I can't begin to imagine how unnerving that stupefying revelation must have been.\"\n\n' _Islena, it's imperative that he be made to see that you and he are connected by an ancient bond...an infinitely repeating intermingling of lives,'_ Guinevere insisted, her erudite tone fraught with exigency. _'Ask him if he has any memory of me, Islena.'_\n\nBeneath the legendary queen's urgent prodding, Islena suspected there existed an ulterior motivation which Islena could not glean. Nonetheless, she complied, correctly intuiting that this was yet another step along a precise and inexorable path. \"Artumas, do you recall the name Guinevere?\"\n\nThe affect of Islena's inquiry was immediate and intensely powerful. His eyes sprang open and his body stiffened as if he'd been infused by a current of unconstrained puissance. He opened his mouth as if intending to speak, but all that escaped his lips was an inarticulate, strangled gasp of absolute dismay.\n\nIslena recognized this reaction all too well, having experienced it...though at a level immeasurably more intense. In the flashing span of seconds, Artumas' wholly unprepared mind reeled under the relentless deluge of the cumulative memory of an entire life unfurling swiftly in the rigid confines of his consciousness.\n\nArtumas rose and stumbled towards the waters edge. Alarmed, Islena moved to intercept the aging king, fearing that he would plunge headlong into the water, but he sagged to his knees before he could tumble into the surf. She gently gripped his shoulders and he responded by gazing up at her with moon eyes that were bright and vacant. In her mind, she could hear Guinevere's anguished groan, rife with emotions too complex to catalogue. _'Oh Artumas, how I've missed you,'_ she moaned, _'how I've yearned to undo all of the heartache that has stood between us all of these long centuries.'_\n\nIslena experienced an oddly disjointed moment then, feeling that she was intruding on an intensely personal moment, while realizing that these tender and bitter emotions were her own.\n\nAt last, the trembling king found his voice...peering up at the flame-haired beauty with the light of dawning comprehension emblazoned in his eyes. \"Guinevere...you are Guinevere?\"\n\nIslena nodded slowly. \"Yes, though she is only a small facet of who I am...just as Arthur is but a facet of who you have now become.\"\n\nArtumas ran his shaking fingers through his thick brown hair. \"Such sadness...such inexpressible sorrow and regret. The life they lived...it was tragic and glorious beyond the faculty of mere words to capture.\"\n\nHe shook his head and climbed to his feet on legs that trembled slightly. \"And you say that you have lived through numerous such lives?\"\n\n\"Yes...too numerous too imagine. They are separate lives, true, but in essence, they can be compared to chapters in a book...every new life being another chapter or layer of experience.\"\n\n\"And in each of them, you and I...come together?\"\n\n\"Always and with earth-shaking consequences...our actions define the age in which they occurred...though often in tones of tragedy and blood.\"\n\nArtumas inhaled, clearly bewildered by the concept. \"What can this possibly mean?\"\n\nDoraux shook her head, clearly sharing his perplexity. \"I honestly don't know, but my every instinct is telling me that the answer to that particular question holds the key to everything Artumas. Beyond Arthur, do you sense the presence of the other incarnations that preceded him?\"\n\n\"No...only vague shadows and barely perceptible whispers...yet only the tragic king stands prominently forth,\" Artumas disclosed, a fact that Islena found vaguely disturbing. Her own moment of revelation had dropped upon her like a veritable avalanche, inculcating her with the memories of an infinite number of past lives that stretched back to the very infancy of the universe. Yet, Artumas could recall only the incarnation preceding this one\n\n' _The champion of light,'_ Guinevere had dubbed him, but Islena knew all too well that his noble aspirations and visions had often crumbled to dust...only to be washed away in swollen tides of blood.\n\n' _And as often as not, we were the catalysts for the calamities that undid his grand design for a better world,'_ Guinevere intoned sorrowfully in a voice that was tremulous and on the edge of tears. _'Through treachery, subterfuge...betrayals of flesh and personal failings...we always managed to dampen his light at the most inopportune of moments.'_\n\n' _You make it sound as if we are the...villains?'_ Islena thought.\n\n' _No...not intentionally and not by nature...another always served that role with the single-minded zeal of a fanatic,'_ Guinevere declared darkly and Islena's taut flesh shuddered, knowing that she was referring to both Myrhia...and the legendary enchantress and architect of misery, Morgana. _'Still, Islena...it was our flawed nature that influenced the tragic culmination of these recurring dramas.'_\n\nThis sweeping condemnation was delivered against the sharp counterpoint of Agraria refutation of disgust. A thought germinated in Doraux's mind, suffusing her with a burgeoning excitement as yet another piece of this cryptic puzzle fell into place. \"Artumas, in the years you were with Myrhia...or more specifically, on the first occasion you met her...did you have any inkling that she was somehow familiar to you...similar to the impression you had during our shared augury?\"\n\nArtumas entertained Doraux's query for a protracted moment, his furrowed brow reflecting his inner turmoil. Finally, he shook his head emphatically and replied, \"None whatsoever. When I first set eyes upon Myrhia, I must confess that I was immediately mesmerized by her beauty and her manner. She was a woman unlike any I had ever encountered.\" He hesitated for a moment and then added, \"Until I met you, Islena...your magnitude matches Myrhia's in every respect.\"\n\nIslena blinked, while in her mind, Guinevere uttered an elaborate, wistful sigh. Sensing her discomfort and misconstruing its cause, Artumas offered a hasty apology. \"I'm sorry, Islena...it was not my intention to be improperly forward. I only meant to say that both you and she are extraordinarily lovely and exude auras of power and capability that one seldom encounters in the course of a lifetime. Instinctively, I would presume that this cannot be mere coincidence that our lives have intersected at this dark juncture in history. I assume that your question implies that Myrhia and Morgana are one and the same?\"\n\nIslena signified her affirmation with a nod and Artumas inhaled sharply and turned his regard to the rolling surf. Distantly, he remarked, \"What you are suggesting is so mind boggling as to be incomprehensible. The gist of your contention would be that the three of us are reborn into specific times and realities...seemingly with the intention of fomenting bloody and tragic conflict...that our coinciding rebirths are preordained and thus inexorable. Islena the implications of this are beyond my understanding, but even so...they are horrifying beyond reason.\"\n\nTo hear the essence of their quandary stated in such succinct and brutal terms caused Islena to groan dejectedly. When she had regained enough of her equilibrium to trust herself to speak, Islena replied, \"I've been grappling with this particular riddle ever since the first moment that Guinevere and the others chose to reveal their presence. Still, I'm no further down the road to understanding the cause and purpose of this cycle of ugly repetition. The only things I can say with any degree of certainty are that I'm terrified and feel as if the entire life I've lived, up until the onset of this fucking nightmare, has been a hollow illusion.\"\n\nAgain, Artumas was taken aback by her vehemence, but he could certainly empathize with the rampant emotions this shared conundrum evoked. Islena noticed his reaction and shook her head. \"I'm sorry, Artumas. I don't respond well to being manipulated or goaded and right now I feel as if I have a ring through my nose and I'm being led on a very short leash. Despite that, being churlish serves no purpose and I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"That you can function at all...given all that you have lost and the extravagant burden that has been thrust upon you is a testimony to the integrity of your spirit. You need never apologize,\" Artumas assured her. \"What you have conveyed is overwhelming. May I ask that you allow me a short space of time to digest all that we have discussed? Once I've organized my thoughts, perhaps we can seek a deeper meaning in what we've discovered. I do agree that solving the riddle of our identities and the recurring interaction is paramount...if we are to see this dark drama to a favorable resolution.\"\n\nThough increasingly frustrated, Islena acceded to the deposed king's request for time to ponder the implications of all that had passed between them this night. In truth, his conjecture on the meaning of their intertwined lives had left her feeling deeply unsettled.\n\nShe was about to turn back for the camp when, on impulse, she asked, \"Artumas, would you tell me the story of how you first met Myrhia?\"\n\nChapter Twenty Six\n\n1\n\nTaking a circuitous route around the now thoroughly obliterated basin, Maroc collected the straggling remains of his mounted cavalry unit as he made his way toward the designated rendezvous location. After resting over night, the expedition would make the rapid journey to the next mine, which lay some twenty leagues to the south-east.\n\nStaring into the faces of the men and women who rejoined his meandering line of troops, Maroc recognized the identical expressions of dismay and shock over the incredible destruction that had obliterated the first mine. The Maxim Tier Marshall correctly surmised that his own expression would mirror that of his troops.\n\nHe realized now that Kevlan's assertion had proven truthful. When they hastily conceived what was, in truth, a method of bolstering foundering moral, none of the planners had a concise understanding of what it was they were endeavoring to undertake.\n\n' _Ah, but is that entirely true, Maroc?'_ he inquired of himself. _'It's not inconceivable that shrewd Sygeanor understood exactly what this expedition would entail. It is not beyond the realm of possibility that the half-Ulgak regarded this adventure as an opportunity to assess the extent of her burgeoning power...irrespective of how much blood would be spilled in the process.'_ One need only glimpse into those glacial gray eyes to know that Sygeanor was not encumbered by humanitarian concerns and this was Maroc's most disturbing insight of all.\n\nSygeanor was rapidly becoming a commodity every bit as volatile and deadly as the force that had leveled the mine. The task of defusing her menace would now fall directly upon his broad shoulders, though he had no idea how he would achieve this particular feat, short of taking drastic and potentially disastrous measures.\n\n\"What is it we've wrought, Inos old friend?\" he murmured and at his side, Kevlan regarded the Tier Marshall sharply.\n\nNightfall had descended by the time that Maroc and his Jerhia cavalry had reached the staging area. To his chagrin, the Maxim Tier Marshall saw that a picket perimeter had been established around the designated area. This was a standard military convention...except for the ring of blazing torches that delineated the entire perimeter...leaving the encampment exposed and visible for ten leagues in either direction.\n\nCursing, Maroc spurred his horse forward, toward the nearest pair of visible sentries. \"By whose authority were these torches lit?\" he demanded harshly. \"You've declared our presence to every clan chief in Northern Redia...extinguish them at once.\"\n\nThe two Jerhia exchanged sheepish glances, but despite their glaring discomfort, neither made a move to comply with his command. Struggling to repress his mounting fury, the Maxim Tier Marshall bellowed, \"Has the explosion addled your reason or left you both deaf. I asked you both a direct question and issued a specific order.\"\n\nAt last, one of the sentries found his voice. \"Sygeanor lit the torches personally, Maxim Tier Marshall. Captain Margarus cautioned her against attracting undo attention to our encampment, but Sygeanor dismissed her concerns. She has expressly forbid dousing of the torches.\"\n\nA bemused glance passed between Kevlan and Maroc just as the Ulgak strode into the circle of light with her full length gray fur cape billowing behind her. \"Tier Marshall...I had begun to fear that you'd fallen unfortunate victim to our rather spectacular display.\"\n\nMaroc grimaced sourly as something in her blithe tone intimated that she would not have been unduly disappointed had he met his demise. Seething with frustration, he demanded, \"Sygeanor, why would you knowingly risk declaring our presence to the Redians? If Myrhia's Morticants catch our scent, we will be hunted to total obliteration.\"\n\n\"The torches will remain lit,\" she declared flatly. \"I will no longer quiver in the dark like a child lost in the forest.\"\n\nSensing her intransigence on the issue, the Jerhia switched topics. \"By all that is holy, what happened back at the mine? Your ritual was intended to seal the mine...not decimate the entire accursed region.\"\n\nNow the Ulgak's grin became positively radiant. In a voice bristling with near euphoria, she divulged, \"It seems that your Gods have bestowed a blessing upon us Maroc...one that will radically alter everything!\"\n\n2\n\nThe force of the gargantuan eruption sent waves of concussive power scything through both the ground and the air. It fell upon Ynathreen and Muragren like an invisible hammer, lifting the Redian from her feet and pitching her forward. Even though the air was virtually punched from her lungs, the girl retained enough presence of mind to maintain her embrace on the fragile slave and twist her powerful body as she flew so that she would suffer the lion's share of the impact. The pair landed some twenty yards down slope and skidded through the deep snow, while around them, the earth seemed to tear itself asunder. They finally came to a halt with Muragren wrapped protectively in the girl's muscular grasp.\n\nYnathreen immediately rolled onto of the slave and Muragren correctly deduced that she was attempting to shield her from a down pour of rock that never came.\n\nThe Redian experimentally raised her gaze to the heavens once the upheaval had subsided. Seeing the improbable black cloud that was rapidly billowing to fill the afternoon sky from horizon to horizon, the Redian quickly hauled the Fairmarch slave to her feet and began to drag her down the slope at breakneck speed.\n\nMuragren attempted to raise a protest, fearing that her left arm would be torn from its socket or that their headlong charge would send them out over the precipice to their screaming deaths. Ynathreen did not acknowledge the slave's plaintive cry...much less heed its warning. Instead, she pulled the smaller woman along like a trailing shadow...indefatigable in her single-minded determination to lead them to safety.\n\nAfter what seemed like an eternity, the Redian led the panting slave into a roughly flat and circular clearing, where she came to an abrupt halt.\n\nMuragren, who stilled clutched Ghordrian's cloak and chain, had barely stopped moving when she again found herself being tossed into the air. Ynathreen spread her long legs and twisted her powerful torso for leverage, bellowed an inarticulate roar of pure rage and literally catapulted the smaller woman into the gloom. Muragren spun in a complete circle, landing on her back in a sprawl of thin limbs.\n\nShe rose unsteadily to her feet to find an enraged Ynathreen bearing down upon her like a charging bull. Muragren barely had sufficient time to utter the girl's name questioningly before Ynathreen gripped her throat in a constricting vice. She then reached around the smaller woman's back and bending deep at the knee, jerked her high into the air before slamming her to the ground with bone-jarring force.\n\nOnly the deep snow prevented Muragren's bones from being shattered like kindling. Still clutching the slave's throat, the Redian straddled the woman's chest and raised her right fist...but did not immediately deliver the blow.\n\nThrough pain-clouded eyes, Muragren peered up into Ynathreen's blazing blue eyes. She understood that the frenzied adolescent could very well beat her to death. The Redian's cocked fist looked very much like the head of a mallet and she could sense the girl's powerful desire to unleash her rage upon her. Reasoning that she lacked the mean's to prevent it, Muragren allowed her thin arms to fall to the sides, resigning herself to a brutal, puzzling death that she hoped would be mercifully swift.\n\nStill the heavy blow did not fall and Ynathreen's grip on Muragren's throat relented marginally. In a voice that promised violence, she growled, \"Did you know?\"\n\nMuragren coughed and blinked in confusion, misinterpreting the direction of the furious girl's question. \"How could I possibly know of the attack? I only know that the mines had always been stable and that something disastrous was happening.\"\n\nThe forehand and backhand slap bloodied Muragren's lips and caused black flowers to bloom before her unfocused eyes. \"Did you know that we would not fit through the tunnel?\"\n\nMuragren's gray eyes widened as she suddenly discerned the shape of Ynathreen's smoldering fury. The girl believed that she had deliberately led the pair into a trap...in a ruthlessly opportunistic attempt to escape. The precarious nature of her situation crashed down upon her like the breaking of a wave and she realized that the next words to pass her lips would decide her fate. Gently, she placed her hand on Ynathreen's left forearm, startled by its hardness and density. Speaking in an intentionally soft voice, Muragren began, \"Ynathreen, your father asked that I groom you with a mind to your role as future queen. A queen must set aside distorting emotions and consider the course of events from a perspective of logic and reason. I would plead that you adhere to that counsel before you unleash your wrath upon me now.\"\n\nYnathreen seemed to consider this for a protracted moment before slowly dropping her fist and relinquishing her grip on Muragren's throat. Seeing some of the anger dissipate from the Redia's stormy eyes, the slave experienced a renewed surge of relief and hope, though she wisely maintained a neutral expression. The girl did not allow the frightened woman to rise. Instead, she plunged her hand into Muragren's wet and filthy hair. Bending forward until their faces were only inches apart, she demanded softly, \"Are you going to deny that you were planning to escape the mine...or that you revile every Redian that draws breath and would gleefully see all of us in our graves?\"\n\n\"Ynathreen, I won't insult your intelligence by denying that I feel no love for your people. What they have done here is odious beyond words, but during the years that I've been consigned to this living hell, I have reached the conclusion that death is the most deplorable villain of all. If I could be granted but one wish, it would be that I seen no more of it in what is left of my lifetime. Your father offered me a chance at salvation...to be delivered from this bastion of cruelty and to again perform the task to which I have devoted my entire life. Why would I reward this unexpected mercy by leading him to his death to my own detriment?\"\n\n\"To be free...even in Elderspire, you would have been a slave...a subservient appendage to my will,\" Ynathreen rasped belligerently, but in her turbulent eyes, Muragren gleaned the first stirrings of uncertainty. Ynathreen sat back on her haunches and the slave pushed herself to her elbows.\n\n\"We are both aware that I could never have climbed out of that last vertical raise without your aid. Even if, by some improbable act of providence, I had actually succeeded, I have no illusions about the circumstances in which I would have found myself...alone and hopelessly lost in this unforgiving land.\"\n\nDisplaying an emotion other than anger for the first time, Ynathreen arched an eyebrow in confusion and inquired, \"Then why the provisions and planning if you knew that escape was futile.\"\n\nMuragren averted her eyes, shamed and afraid to reveal the pathetic truth of her long-harbored delusion before this girl who probably lacked the sensibilities to grasp what she would attempt to convey. \"It may be impossible for you to empathize, but I required an inkling of hope to sustain myself through the years of torment I've suffered here...even if that hope was naught but a laughable illusion.\"\n\nThe girl searched Muragren's bloody, clay-smeared face for the slightest hint of deception and evidently satisfied that the slave was being truthful, signified her acceptance with a tacit nod. She then shifted her gaze to the sky, where the pall of dust was slowly settling to the ground.\n\nMuragren was startled and thoroughly disconcerted when Ynathreen abruptly buried her face in her hands and began to sob unabashedly. The older woman regarded the weeping girl uneasily. In her years of forced servitude, Muragren had only borne witness to Redian contempt, cruelty and indifference. She had come to feel certain that the barbaric race was incapable of the higher virtues and emotions of a civilized people.\n\nSeeing an inconsolable Ynathreen weep over the tragic loss of her beloved father, Ghordrian, swiftly disabused her of that ugly prejudice. Still, she found it no easy matter to surmount her abhorrence and extend her compassion to the other woman, who...despite her formidable power...was still only a girl who had lost her father.\n\nThe intensity of her grief shook the girl's entire body and twisted Muragren's heart. Overcoming her aversion, the slave sat up and tentatively reached out to the weeping Ynathreen, with the intention of drawing her into a consoling embrace.\n\nYnathreen recoiled as if from something inexpressibly repulsive. She leapt back from Muragren while simultaneously dealing the slave a resounding slap that sent blood flying in a crimson fan. The emaciated woman was driven flat onto her back, where she lay staring fixedly up into the impenetrable black dust that now truly did resemble a funeral shroud.\n\n\"Don't ever presume to touch me!\" she shrieked, while jabbing her right index finger painfully into Muragren's wasted chest. She then stormed through the knee deep snow and returned to the dazed slave, carrying Muragren's meager provisions and Ghordrian's heavy cloak. These, she dumped unceremoniously on the fallen slave. The bags of frozen clay landed heavily atop her exposed abdomen, eliciting a guttural grunt from Muragren.\n\nIn a voice as cold and dispassionate as the surrounding mountains, the Redian growled, \"Perhaps you didn't deliberately lead us into a trap. My father loved Redia and was striving secretly to see it change. To that end, it's only fitting that Redia sits in judgment of your culpability in his death. If you should die in these mountains or actually stumble back to your preening, weak-willed Fairmarch, your fate is now in your hands.\"\n\nThen she was gone, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Muragren lying in the snow.\n\n' _How utterly bitter and disillusioning this taste of freedom must be?'_ a voice in her mind inquired...rife with derision. _'How long have you sustained yourself by fantasizing over precisely this scenario? Yet, as you have discovered to your dismay, reality differs vastly from fantasy.'_\n\nShe was alone and lost in the most inhospitable wilderness this side of the land of shades. The prospect of traipsing through innumerable leagues of frozen mountain wastes seemed too impossible to seriously contemplate.\n\n' _Why not close your eyes then and allow the wind and drifting snow to efface your memory from the world?'_ the voiced, foreign and sly, whispered seductively in her despondent mind. The notion was certainly tempting and Muragren could feel a strong compulsion to succumb to its dark allure.\n\nTo ward herself against capitulation, Muragren quickly sat up and attempted to climb to her feet, but the affects of frantic flight and Ynathreen's rough handling sent her reeling across the clearing.\n\nShe collapsed to her hands and knees, where she remained, breathing in great gulps of increasingly frigid air. The desire to survive had been instilled into her heart and would not be easily banished because she had exchanged one set of dire circumstances for another. Ynathreen had claimed that Redia would judge her; well she was determined to show this damnable country that she was in no way accountable for the wretched fate that had befallen her.\n\nRetrieving Ghordrian's blessedly warm cloak and collecting her paltry supply of provisions, Muragren Eb Tamen set out on her long walk to Fairmarch.\n\n3\n\n\"You can't seriously expect me to entertain this lunacy?\" Maroc exclaimed as his incredulous gaze sought Maktir and Kevlan. The dour Natzurdan's face remained carefully neutral, while the Metocan appeared on the verge of apoplexy.\n\n\"Oh, but I most assuredly do, Tier Marshall,\" Sygeanor returned and though her tone seemed sanguine her limpid gray glinted like forged steel.\n\nMaroc averted his eyes to the map table that had been erected in Sygeanor's tent. \"What of the destruction of the remaining mines? That is our primary objective...in essence, our only objective for being here at all.\"\n\n\"In light of what has transpired today, I would contend that our priority has changed,\" Sygeanor declared the levity draining from her voice as the first hint of menace stirred in her tone.\n\n\"You have no authority to unilaterally change this expedition's objectives,\" Maroc argued, indifferent to her truculent glare, but mortified by what this clearly deranged woman was now proposing.\n\nSygeanor leaned forward, planting her fists on the map table. \"I not only have the authority, but also the obligation. It's glaringly apparent that you do not grasp the scope of the opportunity that fate had dropped into our lap. Destroying these mines would be tantamount to self-immolation. If you lack the vision to see that, then you are clearly ill-suited for the position you hold.\"\n\nMaroc shook his head, intuiting that the situation had reached a critical juncture and that failure to act could yield a disaster of epic proportions. He could feel his adjutant, Captain Margarus' incisive gaze on his back and knew that his cadre of officers fully expected him to impose a measure of order on this escalating madness. Still Maroc found himself vacillating...reluctant to take a step from which there would be no retreat.\n\nHis gaze fell upon the cartographer's map...upon which had been scribed the location of the targeted mines as well as possible escape routes from each location. Distantly, he heard himself ask, \"Sygeanor, let us allow calmer minds to prevail...this open discord between us can only bring this expedition strife. Please indulge me and again share your thoughts on this proposed course of action so that I can at least grasp its merits. I would also hear your version of what transpired at the mine.\"\n\nSygeanor regarded the Maxim Tier Marshall as a charged silence fell over the gathering. Her festering impatience was written clearly on her broad features and she briefly entertained the decidedly satisfying thought of simply excoriating him where he stood. Instead, she drew a deep breath to quell the impulse, reasoning that the Tier Marshall and his cavalry would still serve a useful purpose.\n\n\"Obviously, what transpired at the mine was completely unexpected. The composition of this clay is a mystery, but it is possessed of qualities that are truly miraculous...if wholly unanticipated.\"\n\n\"And it was these unanticipated qualities that caused the absolute destruction of the entire basin?\" Maroc inquired...hardly able to credit that an inanimate material could possess such potency.\n\n\"Quite obviously,\" Sygeanor snapped, growing quickly tired of the need to explain self-evident concepts. \"In accordance to the Natzurdan ritual, I committed the required energy to the stone, but as it passed through the bedrock and the seams of clay, the substance amplified my puissance to levels beyond all imagining. With every successive seam, the flow of the power encountered, it was granted further efficacy until it could no longer be contained by the bedrock. We all bore witness to the subsequent devastation. Had I not restrained my initial outpouring, it is highly unlikely that any of us would have survived to recount the tale.\"\n\nThis last statement was greeted by a sour grimace from Maktir, the significance of which was lost upon the Jerhia leader, who observed gravely, \"A number of my men were not so fortunate, Sygeanor.\"\n\n\"I grieve their loss, Tier Marshall, but we both know that tragic loss is the constant companion of warfare,\" the half-Ulgak observed with a marked indifference that caused Maroc to seethe.\n\nWhen he could again trust himself to speak, Maroc remarked. \"I'm afraid that I still see nothing that would warrant abandoning our purpose.\"\n\nSygeanor shook her head, no longer bothering to conceal her vexation. \"It is hardly a wonder that Myrhia had belabored us to the brink of extinction. How such unimaginative men could presume to lead is incomprehensible.\"\n\nMaroc's adjutant grimaced at Sygeanor's derisive barb and the Tier Marshall growled, \"I will not suffer your impertinence, Sygeanor.\"\n\n\"Then demonstrate that you're are worthy of my respect by thinking beyond the narrow confines of limited goals and purposes. Even if we managed to lay every mine in Redia to a smoldering pile of embers, the salient truth of our position would not have been significantly altered. We still lack the means to effectively give opposition to the High Queen's engine of conquest.\"\n\nNow her luminescent gray eyes began to blaze with zealous conviction. \"This clay, Maroc, with its inherent arcane properties, may well provide us with the means with which we can vanquish the enchantress!\"\n\nMaroc's brow furrowed and despite his aversion to spontaneously changing the expedition's focus, he found himself becoming infected by the half-Ulgak's enthusiasm. \"You theorize that this clay could be utilized as a viable weapon?\"\n\n\"Exactly so!\" Sygeanor confirmed with an exuberant nod.\n\n\"Would Myrhia not be aware of this clay's innate properties?\" It was Kevlan who posed this question, though now he was regarding Sygeanor with keen interest and not his customary open consternation.\n\nSygeanor flipped a disdainful glance at her fellow Metocan. \"Possibly, but it is unlikely that she would have felt compelled to explore them beyond a source of base material for her Morticants. Even if she is fully cognizant of the clay's vast arcane potential, she has hardly required that potential to lay us to waste.\"\n\nMaroc's gaze again fell upon the map of the eastern coast of the continent. Distantly, he heard himself pose a question, the answer to which he knew he would come to rue. \"What exactly is it that you are proposing we undertake, Sygeanor?\"\n\nShe regarded him flatly, but beneath that infuriatingly condescending gaze, Maroc could divine the extent of her excitement. \"Thus far, we have attempted to wage a conventional war against an enemy whose very existence makes a mockery of every known convention. Yet, when we diverted the Hiberas, we aspired to something that even Myrhia could not have anticipated. In her presumption of absolute superiority...not to mention, her obsession with Islena Doraux...she could not foresee that we would have the temerity to strike at the heart of her crude resource center. If she had, the security around the mines would not have been so desultory.\"\n\n\"With this rather ostentatious display today, that posture is likely to change radically,\" Maroc reminded her pointedly.\n\nSygeanor dismissed this with an impatient wave of her left hand. \"It's unlikely that the plodding Redians possess the intellectual acuity to regard this as anything other than a natural disaster. What's more, let them redouble their vigilance to ward the remaining mines...they are no longer our primary concern. Actually, it would be most fortuitous if they did concentrate their remaining resources on the protection of the mines' defense, making our new task all the easier to achieve.\"\n\nWith no small degree of anxiety, Maroc inquired, \"And what is our new task?\"\n\nSygeanor fixed the Maxim Tier Marshall with a feral grim that bespoke close proximity to either clever guile or deadly madness. \"To pass out of Redia, through Fairmarch and seize Myrhia's repository of clay in Nalosan.\"\n\n4\n\nReasoning that to remain stationary during the frigid and often storm-wracked nights would be suicidal Muragren wisely decided that she would travel by night and seek shelter by day.\n\nAs she marched across the crusted snow, Muragren began to align her mental attitude with a posture that would be at least conducive to the possibility of survival...however remote that prospect might be.\n\nAs was her prosaic and intellectual nature, Muragren reduced the enormity of the ordeal before her to manageable components. From there, she began to match her admittedly limited resources at her disposal to the specific challenges she would face in her flight.\n\nThe incredibly inimical environment was the worst. She had always presumed that the miraculous clay would ward against the cold and wind. Ghordrian's bequeathal would make use of the clay for that purpose unnecessary. Her small cache of cured meat strips would sustain her for a few days at best, but again, consuming small quantities of clay would provide sufficient sustenance to see her across the entire continent if need be.\n\nRelatively speaking, Muragren had no real perception of her exact location in Redia, but her background would help her surmount that specific obstacle. She had taught the rudiments of astronomy to her pupils and her knowledge of the constellations in the firmament would help guide her in a constant southerly direction.\n\nThe only one contingency for which she was neither prepared nor suited was violent confrontation. Muragren knew that wolves and bears roamed the wilds of Redia in great profusion. Lacking both the tools and the requisite skills to defend herself, she had no illusion that her only hope lay in evasion.\n\nShe also harbored little doubt that the spectacular destruction of the mine would attract hordes of Redians, intent on determining the cause of the eruption. As bad as this eventuality would prove to be, it was thoughts of the Morticants who would accompany them that caused her heart to hammer painfully in her thin chest.\n\n' _Better not to dwell on factors over which you have no control,'_ she chastised herself even as another horrifying thought took shape in her mind. What if some of Myrhia's abominations had survived the cataclysm? It was certainly not beyond the bounds of possibility. Even now, they would be tenaciously seeking to determine the cause of the eruption...as well as any mortals whom might have survived.\n\nAs badly as Muragren wanted to compartmentalize these thoughts and not allow them to occlude her judgment, she found her pace quickening of its own accord. Soon she found her thin legs beginning to thrum from exertion as exhaustion and the cumulative weight of deprivation began to take their toll.\n\nTo distract herself from the sorrowful realities of her physical condition, Muragren turned her thoughts to contemplation of her near-deliverance and its accompanying mysteries. The most persistent and perplexing question for which the escaped slave could produce no plausible explanation was how a Redian clan chief had discovered the identity of a faceless slave...one of thousands who toiled and died in the country's notorious slave mines.\n\nAs baffling as this query might be...it was not, in essence, the salient question to be considered. Ultimately, the how did not matter as much as the why and it was this puzzle to which Muragren now turned her thoughts. To produce a meaningful answer, it would first be necessary to glean a motive that would compel Ghordrian to go to such onerous lengths to find such an unconventional tutor. Upon further contemplation, she realized that a partial explanation could be found in his charge to Ynathreen's would-be mentor.\n\n' _I would have you teach her that there is more beyond our borders than belligerent foes and lands to be plundered,'_ he had first instructed and then, in the moment before he had died, the clan chief had further declared, _'You must see my daughter safe to Elderspire and devote yourself to her enlightenment.'_\n\nAs she strode briskly through the trees, her way ahead illuminated by the luminous argent moon, Muragren shook her head in bewilderment. In a misogynistic country such as Redia...where a woman's worth was generally measured in terms of child rearing, bedding and domestic drudgery...Ghordrian's command went beyond extraordinary to the very boundary of sacrilege.\n\nYet, even as he had slid into the gaping jaws of death, The Redian had still implored her to inculcate a sense of worldliness in his clearly exceptional daughter...why?\n\n' _So that she would someday be queen.'_ The notion was so blatantly preposterous that Muragren stopped and barked a spate of sardonic laughter. In its long and savage history, the infamous nation of plunderers and raiders had never once raised a woman to the mantle of leader. Even the numbingly brutal ritual by which this enclave of brutes selected what passed for a ruler in Redia effectively precluded the ascension of a queen.\n\nRizarhchen was an odious, to-the-death, one on one combat tournament employed to determine succession whenever a Redian king died. Ynthrax, Myrhia's High Commander, had been Redia's ruler, but even in the remote mines, rumors held that he had perished on the eve of the High Queen's invasion of Jerhia. No word that a replacement had been selected had reached the mines and thus it was assumed that Redia had no formal leader.\n\nMuragren came to a stumbling halt and with her mouth agape, lifted her disbelieving gaze to the indifferent heavens. _'By all that is sacred, Ghordrian actually intended to enter his fifteen year old daughter into Rizarhchen.'_\n\nMuragren heard herself groan as if from down the length of a long corridor. That her father could have such a reckless disregard for his own flesh and blood was far beyond her sensibility to conceive. Yet the man's love for his beautiful daughter seemed deep and genuine and she could not reconcile this obvious affection with such monstrous intent.\n\n' _She is Redia's one true hope for salvation.'_ Ghordrian's final grave pronouncement manifested in her mind...now framed in an entirely new context in light of what she had come to suspect. It had been the Clan Chief's intention that she, Muragren, imbue the girl with a worldly and compassionate sensibility. This massive mountain of a man, who appeared to be the very quintessence of the fear and loathing that Redia evoked, was actually a secret reformist who saw his daughter as an instrument of a radical new civility.\n\nOverwhelmed, Muragren fell to her knees in the frigid night, wondering if the unfathomable destruction of the mines was actually fate's cruel and disdainful jape at Ghordrian's astonishing vision.\n\nIn her preoccupation with these baffling questions, Muragren failed to notice the three shadows that slipped across her path like wraiths.\n\n\"Who are you?\" a cold voice demanded, jolting the slave out of her reverie.\n\nHer head jerked up to find herself confronted by a trio of crossbow wielding figures. It was immediately evident to Muragren, despite her near paralyzing apprehension, that the three were not Redians. Even in the darkness, she could see that they were too short and lean of build. In addition to this, Redians preferred hammers, axes and broad swords to ranged weapons.\n\nHer next thought was that they might be Emercian soldiers, but quickly dismissed the idea. In her years of forced servitude, she had not once set eyes upon an Emercian at the mine. Even Myrhia's tyrannical fist could not completely repress the enmity that existed between the two nations.\n\nA soaring jubilation took her then...one that made her want to cry out in relief and gratitude. These three unlikely soldiers must be Jerhia!\n\n\"You will identify yourself,\" the voice reiterated, most definitely female judging by the timber, even as she raised her weapon into firing position, training it on Muragren's heart.\n\nMuragren sagely threw back her hood and slowly raised her hands, splaying her fingers to demonstrate that she was unarmed. \"I am Muragren Eb Tamen. I was a slave in the mine that was destroyed this day past. I am alone and lost.\"\n\nMuragren's initial delight quickly soured to concern when her revelation did nothing to induce the trio to relax their aggressive postures.\n\n\"How did you manage to escape the mine?\" the female...who Muragren deduced held rank amongst the three, demanded. Her tone that as both belligerent and suspicious.\n\n\"When the initial quake began, I knew that something was seriously wrong,\" Muragren began, selectively editing the truth. \"There was a small tunnel leading to the surface, near where I was working. I fled through the tunnel and ran...and I've been running ever since.\"\n\n\"That's a rather fancy cloak for a slave,\" the soldier on her right remarked and to her surprise, there could be little doubt that his was an Emercian accent.\n\n\"It belonged to a Redian overseer. When the initial tremors hit, chaos erupted in the mines. In the pandemonium, I grabbed the cloak and ran,\" she replied, the fabrication springing automatically to her lips.\n\n\"Remarkably foresight considering that the world was coming down around your ears,\" the Emercian retorted sardonically, causing Muragren to flinch at his unaccountable animosity. Turning his head toward the female Jerhia, he intoned darkly, \"Her instructions regarding survivors were explicitly clear and there were to be no distinctions.\"\n\n\"Silence!\" the female Jerhia snapped, but beneath her curtness, Muragren could clearly detected ambivalence.\n\n\"As distasteful as it might be, he is correct,\" the third soldier...another Jerhia...offered quietly and Muragren could not forestall the low moan of despair that escaped her lips. Whoever had dispatched this trio had issued specific instructions that no one would survive what had now been a devastating attack. As cruelly unjust as it might be, there would be no distinction between slaves and oppressors.\n\n' _After everything I've endured, I'm going to die at the hands of Fairmarch's allies,'_ she realized, cursing her lamentable fate. Even as this horrible thought bloomed in her mind, a towering silhouette rose up behind the Jerhia directly before her. What transpired next unfolded with such stunning alacrity that a startled Muragren could scarcely comprehend just what she was witnessing.\n\nLong fingers appeared on either side of the Jerhia's lean face and there followed a harrowing sharp snap as his head was jerked first right and then left. Then those fingers vanished and the Jerhia's eyes rolled up in their sockets. His subsequent face-first tumble seemed to come in slow motion, while the three witnesses gaped in uncomprehending incredulity.\n\nBefore the two surviving soldiers could react, the tall figure...who Muragren now recognized as Ynathreen...took two bounding steps and delivered a titanic sweeping kick to the base of the female Jerhia's skull.\n\nIn the blink of an eye, she joined her dead comrade lying face down in the snow.\n\nThe Emercian cursed and fired a poorly aimed bolt at the demonic shadow, while taking several ungainly steps in retreat. He allowed his crossbow to settle into its sling and drew his short sword.\n\nHis bolt missed Ynathreen by a laughably wide margin. The girl executed a graceful dive and tore the female Jerhia's crossbow from the unconscious soldier. In one fluid motion, she came to one knee, raised the crossbow and discharged the bolt as if she'd been born with the weapon in her hands.\n\nThe bolt sped true and took the flat-footed Emercian in the throat. There followed a gruesome liquid gurgling that would haunt a mortified Muragren to her grave. He appeared to fall in excruciatingly slow motion with blood spurting from his throat in pulsing jets.\n\nThe former Fairmarch teacher gazed on in paralyzed horror as his body twitched violently before falling utterly still. She then shifted her moon-eyed regard to Ynathreen, who was now kneeling beside the female Jerhia.\n\nIn the span of less than sixty seconds, this unarmed fifteen year old girl had killed or disabled three trained soldiers.\n\nThe extraordinary creature finally shifted her attention to the slave, who still remained riveted on her knees in the snow. In a flat voice that held not the slightest note of revulsion, she inquired, \"Are you injured?\"\n\nUnable to conjure the words to reply, Muragren merely shook her head. Ynathreen's long right arm made a sweeping gesture in the direction of the two dead men. \"Then search the pair and gather up their weapons and anything else you deem to be of value. Be sure to take the boots of the one whose feet are closest to your own in size.\"\n\nWhen Muragren, who was repulsed by the notion of scavenging a corpse, did not immediately move to comply, Ynathreen marched over and roughly hauled the slave to her feet.\n\nIn a voice seething with exasperation, she growled, \"I came back to save you...but if you cannot even compel yourself to save your own life, then I'll leave you with these pieces of excrement. I've located a cave where we can take shelter not far from here...so if you desire to live, you'll do as you've been told.\"\n\nAfter roughly propelling Muragren towards the two dead soldiers, she returned to the unconscious Jerhia, whom she effortlessly lifted over her left shoulder.\n\nDivorcing herself from the inherent ugliness of the task, Muragren gathered up the weapons and the small ration caches from the still warm bodies. Swallowing her intense shame, she struggled to pull the boots and socks from the dead Jerhia's feet, weeping in self-loathing as she slipped them onto her clay coated feet. She glanced up to find Ynathreen regarding her with an inscrutable expression set on her pretty face. \"You must know Muragren that until we can fashion Utopia, we must do what we can to survive in the world we have.\"\n\nWith this surprisingly philosophical declaration delivered, the Redian girl turned and still carrying the unconscious Jerhia, moved into the trees.\n\nMuragren hesitated and after collecting the cache of weapons, hurried after her unlikely savior. Mustering the nerve to speak, she inquired, \"What do you intend to do with her?\"\n\nYnathreen stopped and her generous mouth broke into a humorless parody of a grin, \"I have questions that she will answer. I must warn you...my method of persuasion may offend your delicate sensibilities.\"\n\nChapter Twenty Seven\n\n1\n\nMyrhia stood at the base of the escarpment which divided the upper and lower regions of the Land of Shades. Her baleful gaze swept over the vertical face of the up-thrust fault and she shook her head in consternation. Her percipience informed her that the guardian spiders had been roused by her army's rumbling approach. The obstacle these creatures posed was more of a nuisance than a serious impediment...or would have been had she not been burdened by her mortal contingent of conventional troops.\n\nThe enchantress could simply change her consistency and density until she floated to the Upper Lands as gently as a feather borne of a breeze. The Morticants were absolutely impervious and would simply ascend the face, disposing of the annoying insects as they climbed. The process of conveying her conventional army, along with their horses and supplies, would be protracted and onerous...even if they were not under incessant siege by the guardians.\n\nMyrhia, upon returning from her astral social call upon her husband and his new companions, had been assaulted by an unnerving presentiment that now instilled her with a new sense of urgency. This inkling, while lacking specific form and substance, informed her that Islena was moving toward a cataclysmic juncture that would have radical and unpredictable affects on all that was to come.\n\nShe briefly entertained the notion of instructing Adriatus to lead the conventional forces back to the island, where they could await her return. She eschewed this path for two very particular reasons. She had enflamed the island simpletons with her bombastic rhetoric about empowerment and destiny. Adriatus and his troops could well find themselves confronted by a horde of blood-lust addled women, intent on divesting the soldiers of their male appendages. The ensuing carnage, while not without its amusing appeal, could only complicate matters in the end. The other reason for not simply abandoning her conventional army lay in the niggling, yet unshakable certainty that it would play a significant role in the next phase of her pursuit of Islena Doraux.\n\nModulating her voice, she commanded, \"Adriatus attend me!\"\n\nThough she had spoken softly, her voice grew in volume and resonance until it echoed over the surrounding leagues like a peal of thunder. In mere moments, her High Commander reined his horse next to hers, his angular face set in its customary expression of nervous anxiety.\n\n\"Adriatus, instruct the troops to turn north and start moving along the shore...and do not venture closer to the escarpment. When we reach a point some ten leagues beyond the northern shore of the lake, you will establish an encampment, while I devise a method of transporting your army to the Upper Land.\"\n\nAdriatus shifted his regard to the towering rock face, with its disconcerting profusion of gray bulbs. Myrhia gleaned his apprehension and leaned over to pat his wrist in a gesture of feigned maternal reassurance. When she spoke, her voice was rife with disdain. \"No need to quail with terror, Adriatus...your queen will protect you.\"\n\nHe quickly averted his eyes and she gave him leave to go about his duty. Myrhia returned her attention to the soaring vertical face and the best method of surmounting it, but her contemplation was interrupted by a sudden and decidedly bizarre sense of internal disconnection.\n\nMyrhia shook her head vigorously and blinked her eyes several times in rapid succession, trying to grasp just what had befallen her.\n\n' _The Morticants...something has happened to some of my Morticants!'_ The horrifying and highly improbable thought germinated in her mind like a rapidly sprouting weed. The idea was ludicrous of course...the Morticants were virtually indestructible...and yet...\n\nShe was reminded of the unnerving sensation she had experienced when Islena had somehow usurped control of Lorio. Whereas Lorio's tether and blinking light had abruptly vanished from her consciousness, this situation differed in that the tethers and lights remained. Now, however, the cluster of lights was muted and inert.\n\nMyrhia immediately dismounted her horse and issued a silent command to her nearby Morticants. While the creatures formed a protective circle around their mistress, Myrhia settled to the sterile earth and turned her consciousness inward. In the blink of an eye, the enchantress found herself on the periphery of her awareness, confronted by a sight so utterly inconceivable that the unflappable Myrhia nearly fled before it.\n\nThere, against a field of ebony black, she found a cluster of seventy listless blue lights. Both frightened and bewildered by the spectacle which should have been impossible by every definition of the word, Myrhia felt her implacable confidence begin to waver.\n\n' _Remember who you are...remember what you are...and gather your wits, you obtuse bitch!'_ she denigrated herself, but could not entirely exorcise her anxiety. Gathering her composure, Myrhia plunged into the nearest pool of consciousness.\n\nShe was immediately inundated by two horrifying realizations. The creature she presently occupied was encased in millions of tons of solid stone...entrapped beyond any hope of extrication.\n\nConfounded by the circumstances that might have brought this to be, the enchantress withdrew, only to randomly plunge into a sampling of the other inert lights. In each, she was greeted by exactly the same set of ghastly circumstances.\n\nAfter mercifully extinguishing these imprisoned life forces, Myrhia returned to the tangible world with an audible gasp of dismay. She rose on perceptibly unsteady legs, absently brushing dirt from her long skirt. In the blink of an eye, her astute mind resolved the conundrum of her Morticants' demise, distilling the salient facts from the seemingly impossible outcome.\n\nThese creatures had been assigned to the protection of her clay harvesting operations in the remote mines of Redia. Her initial thought was that the mine had suffered a catastrophic collapse, thus entombing the Morticants beneath countless tons of rubble. She immediately discarded this theory as her instinct informed her that the stone had been molded to every contour of the creatures' bodies.\n\n\"Natzurdan!\" she spat as if uttering the most vulgar of obscenities. Her mastery of transformative magic allowed her to accurately envision the mechanics of the process. Nonetheless, it would have required thousands of Natzurdan, working in flawless synchronicity, to transmogrify such a vast quantity of bedrock into liquid. The liquid would then flood the entire mine workings, before reverting back to its natural state...all before a single Morticant could react.\n\nThe Natzurdan possessed the requisite earth lore, but even if an entire legion had managed to traverse the entire continent and find their way to a mine deep in the Redian Mountains, they simply lacked the efficacy to achieve such a feat of destruction. Their unexpected rerouting of the Hiberas had required Islena Doraux and the puissance of the Dragonsword, but Islena was on the opposite end of two continents and no longer in possession of the Jerhia Icon.\n\n' _Ah, but the CornerStone Nations had produced yet another potent magic wielder as evinced by the surprising obliteration of her palace in Amberdias.'_ Even after her swift and brutal retaliation, her enemies retained the temerity to strike at her clay mines.\n\nMyrhia shook her head in consternation. This illusive adversary posed an incalculable threat to her carefully laid machinations. Her smooth brow wrinkled with the realization that yet another variable remained unidentified in this disturbing new equation. While it was true that the Natzurdan lore, when combined with a massive supply of energy, could theoretically liquefy an immense quantity of bedrock, the transmogrification would still be time consuming.\n\nUnless...unless the wielder possessed a catalyst that would dramatically amplify the effect. On the heels of this came the singularly terrible thought that resounded in Myrhia's keen mind like the death knell of a funeral bell. The blue clay possessed exactly the required arcane characteristics to serve as a catalyst.\n\nPerforming the ritual in proximity to the huge deposits of the luminous blue clay would naturally endow the Natzurdan earth lore with potency beyond their wildest imaginings.\n\nA frigid chill traversed the length of her ramrod straight spine, causing Myrhia to shiver despite the closeness of the afternoon air.\n\nThe fact that her enemies had taken such an audacious gamble in attacking the clay mines corroborated her suspicion that they had garnered the clay's purpose. It was inevitable that this mysterious adversary would recognize the intrinsic enhancing properties of the material.\n\nWith this understanding came the knowledge that her greatest weapon had suddenly become a glaring vulnerability.\n\nMyrhia was accosted by the warring emotions of intense rage and burgeoning panic, each struggling to loosen her normally iron-clad grip on her composure.\n\nAgain, as had been the case in every incarnation since she had first become cognizant of her existence, the Mother of Iniquity could feel the meddlesome fingers of fate conspiring to undo her carefully woven tapestry.\n\nWhen Myrhia had taken the extravagant gamble of drawing her bane into the wretched world, she had been supremely confident that her bold stratagem would yield the victory that had eluded her since the dawn of time. Yet, somehow, through a series of desperate and unpredictable gambits, her fumbling enemies had gained the means to seriously disrupt her schemes...if not derail them entirely.\n\nA mantle of cold serenity descended upon her then...enveloping her in a glacial sphere of clarity that had always allowed her to view her obstacles through a dispassionate, and analytical eye.\n\nShe would deal with the new adversary in time, but nothing could be allowed to divert her attention from bringing Islena Doraux to heel and gaining possession of the icons.\n\nDespite the paramount importance of this prime objective, some manner of response was required to the brazen attack on the mines, lest the adversary grow bolder yet. In truth, she possessed sufficient numbers of her creations to keep this world pressed tightly beneath her boot heel.\n\n' _Ah, but my ambition has never been confined to the subjugation of this dreadful world,'_ she thought. When she was finally free to pursue her war of universal dominion, she would require a continuous flow of Morticants. The mines were a critical cornerstone of her ambition. Plunging back into the chambers of her awareness, Myrhia began to issue a series of concise instructions to her ever compliant children. At each of the remaining mines, the Morticants would form a protective circle around the encampments. Under no circumstances would they enter the actual workings.\n\nMyrhia had sufficient grasp of the operation to know that this decision would drastically curtail output, but deemed this an acceptable consequence. It was imperative that these raiders not be allowed to gain possession of any significant quantity of the clay. To insure the safety of the shipments, the enchantress decided to assign a full half of her occupying force in Fairmarch to protection of the transport convoys.\n\nAlready she could sense that these indefatigable creatures were moving to serve her will, thus granting her a space of time to deal with matters here.\n\n' _Islena, it's time to bring your irritating rebellion to an end,'_ Myrhia thought ruefully. _'It's well past time that you and I had a mother to daughter talk.'_\n\n2\n\nArtumas reacted to Islena's impulsive request with an involuntary shudder. He had known since the first moment she had found him that she would inevitably pose this question, but found that he dreaded it nonetheless. She was watching him expectantly and a memory roused from a past life admonished him that he could deny the flame-haired beauty nothing.\n\nHe sighed, hoping that there was at least a measure of catharsis to be had in laying bare old scars. Quietly, he suggested, \"I will recount the tale, Islena, but may I tell the story to your comrades as well. I cannot say with any degree of certainty, but perhaps it may bring events into sharper focus.\"\n\nIslena considered this for a moment, and though a selfish part of her character wanted to deny his request, she nonetheless nodded. The pair rose and started back toward the camp. As they walked along in a companionable silence, Artumas found himself stealing furtive sideways glances at the exotic beauty. His mind insisted on juxtaposing his vivid recollection of Guinevere against the exotic creature who walked at his side. The statuesque, wheaten-haired beauty had been the very epitome of elegance and regal grace. By contrast, Islena Doraux was a fiery amalgam of living contradictions. Physically, her intense beauty stood in stunning opposition to the raw power of her body. In the short time that he had known Islena, Artumas saw that the woman was tempestuous and driven...rolling through the world like an inexorable force.\n\nGuinevere had been reserved and thoughtful...her passions more constrained...but he had discovered (to his eternal sorrow) that an atavistic passion had smoldered beneath her demure exterior.\n\nThe notion that these two vastly different and unique woman could be aspects of the same recurring soul seemed like an irreconcilable contradiction.\n\nThe other four were arrayed around a stone-delineated fire, silently awaiting Islena and Artumas' return. They rose in unison when the pair appeared out of the darkness. As Islena approached the fire pit, she could clearly feel the underlying tension that cast a shadow over every face...and understood that she was its cause.\n\nFeeling a rare twinge of self-deprecating shame, Islena shrugged sheepishly and offered, \"I know that my behavior today has been...aloof and I understand how unfair that is to all of you. You've been with me long enough to know that I'm not without my faults. I have a lot on my mind, but I promise that once I've come to terms with what happened last night, I will be completely forthcoming with all of you.\"\n\n\"Islena, you know that there is no limit to what any of us would do to help you,\" Arminda intoned in a quiet and solemn voice that was fraught with sincere devotion. The others nodded their concurrence.\n\n' _And that is exactly what I'm afraid of,'_ Doraux thought miserably, barely succeeding in staunching the flow of tears that threatened to burst forth. \"I've asked Artumas to tell me the story of how he first came to meet Myrhia...and he has graciously agreed. He requested that he be allowed to recount it to all of us, reasoning that we may glean something of value in its telling.\"\n\nSormias clapped his hands together and beamed his disarming smile. With child-like exuberance, he declared, \"I've always been partial to a good yarn and nights such as this seemed to have been conceived specifically for their telling. I, for one, will happily hear your story, good king.\"\n\nThe group shared a laugh and then settled around the fire to hear Artumas' melancholy tinged account...a recollection that was, in truth, the nascent stirring of yet an other chapter of an unending tragedy.\n\n3\n\n\"Any good story...or remembrance...must begin with a setting of the stage...a portrait of the world from which it sprang. I would contend that the period of years immediately preceding Myrhia's arrival were perhaps the happiest that the strife-tormented eastern continent had ever experienced.\" Artumas turned his attention specifically to Islena and elaborated, \"This may seem like a grandiose example of pure hubris, but I would like to think that I had a hand in fashioning that all too brief era of tranquility and accord. You see Islena; the eastern continent has been a cauldron of unrest and incessant warfare for its entire recorded history. Avarice, spite and ruthless ambition seemed to foment ill tides that mired the land in perpetual conflict.\"\n\nIslena, whose own world's history differed little from the one being described by Artumas, signified her understanding with a tacit nod.\n\n\"I will not pretend that Emercia was not without its duplicity in perpetuating this woeful state of discord. Emercia has long been the most affluent nation on the eastern continent, blessed with a vast repository of natural resources, along with the drive and intellect to put them to optimal use.\" Here Artumas paused and a disapproving frown furrowed his brow. \"As is often the inclination of those blessed with wealth and good fortune, my predecessors took extreme and often unscrupulous measures to protect their divine prosperity. They intentionally fomented chaos in the other nations, by sowing discord between countries that, in truth, required very little encouragement to spring at each others throats with a keen blade in hand. In essence, Emercia fostered and propagated this atmosphere of endless conflict and its grim shadow...crippling poverty. No euphemism can disguise the fact that there is much that my country has to be ashamed of.\"\n\n\"Yet you aspired to change all of this?\" Islena asked, not entirely able to suppress the sardonic snap in her voice.\n\n\"Yes...I suppose that you might consider my actions well intended arrogance, but that is precisely what I set out to achieve,\" Artumas replied with a bitter grin. \"I ascended to the throne harboring the unequivocal certainty that Emercia, because of its bounty of wealth, could be the fulcrum upon which the fortunes of the eastern continent changed.\"\n\n\"Really, my achievements, for all that they are hailed as monumental, amounted to nothing more than extending the hand of generosity and compassion to those less fortunate countries. I won't bore you with tedious details, lest this tale sound like self-aggrandizing tribute. Let it suffice to say that I succeeded in making many of the other nations see the universal benefits of setting their petty grievances and long harbored enmities aside with a mind toward the betterment of all.\"\n\n' _An insufferable idealist,'_ Agraria spat contemptuously in Islena's mind.\n\n' _Better that than a glory-inebriated tyrant who ground all opposition beneath her mailed fist,'_ Guinevere countered hotly in an uncharacteristic display of ire. Islena commanded them both to be silent, less than overjoyed by the prospect of spending an eternity in the same consciousness with the contentious pair. \"You said many of the nations...but not all. So there were those who did not share your bold egalitarian vision of a brave new world?\"\n\n\"Lamentably true...there are those, by nature, who constantly seek advantage at the expense of everything around them. There were countries, ruled by kings and queens who looked to exploit the misfortunes of their neighbors for their own gain.\" Artumas paused and peered directly into Islena's eyes and in that incisive regard, she could see intimations of the man he had once been before Myrhia had appeared to disabuse him of his every illusion. She felt a shiver of pure excitement traverse the length of her spine. \"War is a device of eternal evil, Islena, but there are times when it is the only recourse. Those countries which refused to abandon their postures of ruthless aggression were made to see the error of their ways...emphatically.\"\n\n\"So basically, those you could not convince, you simply bludgeoned into submission,\" Islena summarized.\n\n\"Yes,\" Artumas admitted, though his expression declared that he had been wounded by her cynicism. \"In time, an uneasy truce fell over the lands, but when the fractious nations saw that their coffers were better served by cooperation than conflict...the rapprochement between these ancient adversaries became genuine.\"\n\n\"Still, if you asked me to evaluate my single greatest achievement, it would be the re-establishment of relations with the CornerStone Nations,\" Artumas continued, stealing a brief glance at Gillian and Arminda. Islena arched an inquisitive eyebrow and the deposed king explained, \"You must see Islena, after witnessing years of mindless warfare between the nations of the east, the CornerStone Nations, by unanimous agreement, severed all relations and closed their borders with the Eastern Continent. For the three hundred years immediately preceding my ascension to the throne, not a solitary soul from the east was granted access to the western continent. When a measure of order was restored, I approached the three with an invitation to at least open a dialogue...to which, rather reluctantly, they agreed.\"\n\n\"Sequestering behind borders and adopting a posture of isolationism...these hardly seem like the actions of great nations,\" Islena observed ruefully, casting a critical glance at the two Jerhia, who could only shrug helplessly.\n\n\"The CornerStone Nations beat their heads on the stone walls of intransigence for centuries, Islena. Your condemnation of their inevitable frustration is rather harsh,\" Artumas commented quietly. Islena's only reaction to this mild rebuke was a stubborn shrug of indifference. Pursing his lips in mild bemusement, the Emercian resumed his tale. \"With the prevailing accord finally established, there remained one persistent thorn to be dealt with...Redia. This cantankerous nation of marauders and ruthless plunderers had long been the scourge of the eastern continent. Fairmarch in particular, bore the brunt of their avarice driven aggression in the form of raids and forays deep into the country's heartland. I convinced the Jerhia that this parasitic behavior could no longer be tolerated. Initially, we established two heavily fortified forts on Fairmarch's common border with Redia. Then our combined forces took the fight to Redia...driving the clan chiefs deep into their northern mountains and occupying their capital city...Elderspire. We even managed to capture their notorious leader...a man with whom you are familiar.\"\n\n\"Ynthrax!\" Islena rasped, the name evoking a soft curse from Arminda.\n\n\"The very same,\" Artumas confirmed with a humorless grin. \"Still, let me not jump ahead in the narrative. With the defeat of Redia, a historic period of tranquility descended upon the east. As I was no longer preoccupied with the consuming task of civilizing the eastern continent and the constant demands of conducting military campaigns, it was only natural that I turned the light of introspection on my own life...and the state of the country over which I ruled. In that period, I still harbored my grandiose schemes to elevate Emercia to the pinnacle of social enlightenment...an example of compassion and civility to hold forth to the rest of the world.\"\n\nHere, he paused and shifted his suddenly capricious gaze to the shimmering velvet ocean over which cavorted a glorious argent moon. \"One would think that given these grand aspirations, I would be left with little time for longing,\" Artumas mused thoughtfully, \"but I began to feel a gnawing emptiness...as if there was some critical element missing from my life...one that would preclude the possibility of lasting contentment were it not addressed.\"\n\n\"A wife...a Queen,\" Islena blurted excitedly.\n\n\"Precisely so!\" Artumas confirmed in a tone that was oddly nuanced by an emotion that Islena could not define. \"In the throne room in Kammlogran, I became increasingly cognizant of the empty throne that stood beside mine. I was more keenly aware of the empty chamber and bed that greeted me when I retired at the end of each day. Even from the perspective of my realm, I began to understand that I was obligated to provide Emercia with an heir. I had, after all, past my thirtieth name day and could not help but hear the whispers of concern from those who frequented court.\"\n\nIslena shook her head and turned to the others for affirmation. \"Artumas, you were perhaps the most powerful king on the continent and an attractive man, false humility aside. I can't believe that there wasn't an endless procession of beautiful, charming women clawing each others eyes out for the privilege of being your queen.\"\n\nArtumas blushed at Islena's effusive praise and averted his eyes to the flickering embers of the fire. \"False modesty aside, there were women who made their desire to be my queen known in shockingly candid terms. For anyone who has ever had the pleasure of gazing upon the women of Suran, they would know just how ineffably beautiful some of these prospective suitors were.\"\n\n\"And yet you saw fit to reject them all,\" Islena pressed, her penetrating, green-eyed regard boring into the deposed king.\n\n\"I did because the operative words in my prior statement were my queen. Be it for the sake of forging a political alliance or for personal gain, these women invariably wanted to be my queen, when I desired a woman who, first and foremost, desired to be my wife. I know how absurdly ingenuous that must seem, but I simply could not forego that desire. Thus, I merely declined to make a decision, pointedly ignoring the whispers and raised eyebrows. Eventually, the cynical eye left me feeling that I would never find a wife who would regard me as anything more than a venue to power.\"\n\nArtumas fell silent then, perhaps reflecting that what was to follow was a glaring affirmation of his darkest fear. Islena blinked, distracted by the sound of forlorn weeping...only to realize that the tears belonged to Guinevere and were echoing in her mind.\n\n' _I wonder how much of Artumas' wariness was branded into his enduring soul by my festering betrayal?'_ the distraught queen lamented.\n\nIslena shook her head, having no words of consolation to offer the maudlin queen. She could feel Artumas' tale unfurling like a meticulously choreographed farce that was destined to become a tragedy. She knew with depressing certainty that she had heard this tale (or one eerily similar) told a thousand times before.\n\nA horrible specter capered in the repetitive retelling of the same sad story...one that would yield a grim epiphany if she had but the courage to drag it into the light. Fearing the terrible consequences of pursuing that grim business, Islena heard herself observe, \"And that is when she came...when Myrhia arrived?\"\n\nArtumas merely nodded, his gaze focused firmly inward to the moment in time when his inevitable downfall had commenced. \"If I could, indeed, live another score of lives...that moment would never lose its clarity. It is indelibly etched in my memory as if it had transpired just yesterday. I recall that it was the height of summer and a kind of pleasant lethargy had descended over Nalosan...a time of mesmerizing contentment that seemed to leave the city feeling complacent and strangely tranquil.\"\n\n\"Like the waters of a lake before an intense storm,\" Arminda offered, her blue eyes transfixed by the deposed king's tale.\n\n\"An apt analogy,\" Artumas agreed. \"The calm before the proverbial storm. My inner council was meeting that night and I honestly can't recall what mundane matter of state had brought us together that evening...a proposed public works project or perhaps the safety of merchant caravans along the king's roads. I've often wondered if the late sessions were contrived as a means of avoiding the empty bed chamber I mentioned earlier. At any rate, I do recall gazing through the high windows that ringed the upper reaches of the council chamber. Beyond the imperfect glass, the evening sky was cast in those beguiling shades of red and gold that somehow make the existence of a divine being more credible.\"\n\nArtumas paused and took a long draught from his water skin and glanced shyly at Islena before continuing. \"An urgent knock at my chamber door announced my very agitated harbor master. A single mysterious ship had anchored in the waters just beyond the quay. The vessel appeared unmanned and every attempt to hail its occupants had gone unheeded.\"\n\n\"I made my way to the ramparts that overlooked the section of harbor directly before Kammlogran. Perhaps this is an embellishment, but if so, it is not a deliberate one. When I first peered over the battlements and stole my first glimpse of the ship, the night had descended over the harbor and yet the ship was as plainly visible as if it was the height of day. Not a single torch or lantern burned on the deck and still it seemed that I could see the grain in the polished wood of the foredeck. The vessel possessed strange effulgence that illuminated every detail of its exotic construction.\"\n\n\"So there was nothing in the ships appearance that would any clue as to its possible identity?\" It was Gillian who had posed this question in a rapt voice that suggested he was thoroughly engrossed in the telling.\n\nArtumas shook his head. \"It was a vessel unlike any that I had ever seen...sleek, narrow and long. It appeared almost as a ghostly construct from another shore. I hurried down to the longest quay...against the strident protests of my consuls. They may have feared that the ship held a demon intent on consuming me in a spectacular blaze of bale fire.\"\n\n\"As events would later prove, they were not far from wrong,\" Lorio interjected darkly, drawing a surprisingly sour gaze from Islena, who saw little to be gained in perpetually scouring the deposed king with his failings.\n\n\"Sorrowfully, you are correct, good lady,\" Artumas conceded simply. \"At any rate, when I finally reached the end of the dock, the ship suddenly began to move...drifting to berth near the very spot where I stood. This simple action was most perplexing because the vessel lacked any visible means of propulsion...neither oars, not sail. Again, those around me urged the prudence of withdrawal, but I must admit, perhaps I had fallen under an enchantment even then because nothing could have compelled me to abandon the spot to which I seemed fixed.\"\n\n\"Then this ship was clearly propelled by magic,\" Sormias suggested, his golden eyes narrowed in intense concentration.\n\n\"In hindsight yes and that in and of itself should have raised alarm klaxons in my mind. I've ever been wary of the arcane arts and those who command them. The vessel coasted to a graceful halt and for a protracted moment a tense and expectant silence fell over the harbor. Almost as if from the recesses of a dream, I could hear my military consul order archers to ready fire arrows.\"\n\n\"Suddenly, a lacquered ebony gang plank slid through the ornate railing and appeared to float through the air before lightly touching down on the wooden piling that surrounded the end of the quay. Then she appeared...like a dark vision that had manifested out of the very cloth of night.\" Here Artumas faltered and Islena could not decide if he was overwhelmed by sorrow or simply swept up by the dramatic intensity of that distant moment.\n\nHe ran his left hand over his face, where perspiration stood prominently forth on his brow. He glanced apologetically at his rapt audience. \"Here, I could color my account in a light to attenuate the totality to which I succumbed to Myrhia, but in all that you have endured, you are deserving of the undistorted truth. I spoke of the lingering emptiness that had characterized my life beyond my duty to the realm, just as I admitted that my personal reservations played prominently in opening that void. As I watched Myrhia descend the plank...her radiant dark eyes set squarely upon mine, the reluctance seemed fully justified and her unexpected presence filled that void with an alacrity that mere words lacked the faculty to express. In that rarified and giddy moment, I felt certain that fate had delivered to me my recompense for all that I had labored to achieve through the years of my reign.\"\n\nLorio abruptly stood, shaking her head in unconcealed disgust. \"Artumas, do not think yourself exceptional because you were mesmerized by her beauty. Be it a peasant or a king, all men are the same...they lose their wits in the face of a woman's beauty when it shines with such blinding magnitude.\"\n\nIslena also rose and approached her volatile friend, whose own beauty was capable of weaving exactly the same reason-occluding enchantment. \"Lorio, I asked Artumas to share the tale and despite his discomfort, he agreed. He does not deserve your discourtesy.\"\n\nThe taller woman took several brisk steps towards Islena, but with her blazing regard fixed squarely upon the speechless king, she extended a long right arm and spat, \"Paint her in any light that you will, Artumas, but Myrhia...the monster you made your wife...is a reprobate birthed from the cunt of evil. If you had looked upon her with the eyes of reason and not with your deprived prick, how can you not help but wonder if all of this horror might well have been averted then and there.\"\n\n\"Enough Lorio!\" Islena bellowed, her cry half plea and half command as she gripped the Lamish beauty's right shoulder and shook her vigorously.\n\n\"Never enough, Islena,\" Lorio retorted hotly and slapped Doraux's hand away, nearly toppling the smaller woman to the sand. \"He has earned every recrimination and aspersion I can heap upon him. There is none living who know this monster's corrupt heart more intimately than I do. I refused to listen to her be portrayed as a grand villain from a tale-weaver's epic drama. Myrhia is the epitome of filth and excrement, Artumas...and whatever you may claim, you chose to wallow in her putrescent slime!\"\n\nBy the time that Lorio had delivered her scathing diatribe, her voice had risen to a hysterical shriek. Spinning away, she stalked toward the shore with her strident sobs trailing in her wake.\n\nFor a protracted moment, not a single word was uttered as Lorio's ugly condemnation hung in the air like a miasma. Finally, a trembling Islena remarked softly, \"I can't say how sorry I am good king,\" she began with an odd formality. \"I would hazard that no living being...myself included...had suffered beneath Myrhia's fist more than Lorio. Her hatred is well warranted. Still, she has no right to deflect this festering animosity upon you.\"\n\nA glum Artumas raised his right hand in a gesture of dismissal. \"She has every right, Islena and I take no affront with her words. Since the day Myrhia first relegated me to this shore, I have flailed myself with the same accusation until I eventually grew numb to its effect. If you are not offended, I will tell the rest of my tale, Islena and cry Lorio's pardon later.\"\n\nShocked that he could be so accepting of Lorio's savage vitriol, Islena gestured for him to continue.\n\n\"Myrhia approached me as if she was fully cognizant of my role as Emercia's king. In recollection, I see that her bewitching gaze never once fell upon another member of my retinue. She was attired in a fetching black dress and her long black hair tumbled around the porcelain perfection of her face like cascading waves of nightfall. I attempted to pull my gaze away from her eyes and it fell upon her full breasts, in the valley of which nestled an emerald and gold intaglio that struck me as...vaguely disturbing. In the next instant, she fell to one knee before me, taking my right hand in her delicate fingers and bestowing a lingering kiss on my signet ring.\"\n\n\"I found myself unable to speak. At last, she gazed up at me and spoke in a voice that evoked images of cool satin being drawn teasingly across bare flesh.\"\n\n\"I know not where I am good king, but I beg that you grant me sanctuary and protection.\"\n\n\"I wish I could claim that it was not so, but from that first utterance...that first graceful and dignified entreaty, my heart was hers without equivocation or limit. Had she requested that I join her on that ship and sail away together into an unknown future, I would have abandoned all that I had toiled to build without hesitation or thought.\" He stopped, shaking his head in dismay at how easily his common sense had been supplanted by Myrhia's mystique.\n\n\"Artumas, you say that this first encounter left you with the impression that it had been ordained by fate, but did you also have any inking...however slight...that she was remotely familiar?\" Islena asked in an assiduous tone.\n\nThe query drew puzzled glances from the other three companions and an adamant head shake from the deposed king, who insisted, \"As I've already said, not once was I ever struck by the thought that Myrhia was in any way familiar. Quite the contrary in fact...she was a creature unlike any I'd ever encountered. Her manner, poise and grace...they were intoxicatingly refreshing.\"\n\nDoraux grimaced and shook her head, perplexed by his inability to recall Myrhia...or even his own past incarnation beyond the immediately previous one. She found this inability profoundly troubling, but she could not say precisely why.\n\n' _In time, his obstinate barriers will crumble...as will your own,'_ Guinevere observed quietly from the outskirts of her awareness. _'I fear that you may both find yourselves confronted by a truth that will grant you no comfort.'_\n\n\"What explanation did Myrhia provide regarding her sudden appearance or place of origin?\" Arminda asked and though her voice was sober, it was evident that she found the king's tale darkly compelling.\n\n\"She claimed that her home was an island state somewhere across the Sea of Permanent Departure. Her island had purportedly been ravaged by virulent disease, from which she had escaped at her father's behest.\"\n\n\"Surely that was a deliberate fabrication...what could possibly lie beyond the sea?\" It was Gillian who had offered this remark as if the very notion was laughably obtuse.\n\nDoraux shook her head, befuddled by the Jerhia's skepticism over this aspect of Myrhia's tale. \"I'm not sure I follow...why would you question this part of her story?\"\n\nIt was Artumas who responded, providing Islena with an illuminating aside regarding the prevailing mentality of the people of the antiquated world. \"Islena, Gillian's skepticism is not necessarily surprising. The people of the two continents have always been an inward focused lot...too totally transfixed by our own incessant drama to consider anything beyond our immediate interests. Even the coastal nations never exhibited any genuine desire to discover what might lie beyond the point where ocean met sky. Whether this attitude was a consequence of indifference or fear, I cannot say. I know only that this might be the one aspect of Myrhia's tale that is founded in partial truth. I can say, irrefutably, that neither she nor her exotic vessel was of this shore.\"\n\nHere Artumas paused to reflect on what remained to be told, before drawing a weary breath. \"It is late and I am tired, Islena. In the name of brevity, I will bring my story to a rapid close.\"\n\nIslena, whose curiosity about Artumas' relationship with her avowed enemy was insatiable, nonetheless accepted this with a tight nod. Artumas resumed his account in a voice that was flat and bereft of vitality.\n\n\"I'll refrain from elaboration. Nor will I mitigate my culpability in providing Myrhia with a throne from which to launch her campaign of dominion. Frankly, all of you understand the consequences of my failure more thoroughly than I do. Let it suffice to say that Myrhia's enchantment was a masterfully choreographed dance of seduction that led through my heart and bed and onto the throne. In the years we ruled together, Myrhia was an exemplary queen. She captivated the hearts of the people, just as she captivated the hearts of visiting dignitaries.\"\n\n\"She was clever and exceedingly quick to grasp the intricacies of politics and skillfully guided me through the dark waters of political intrigue and ulterior scheming. In truth, had Myrhia been cut from a different cloth, she would have been the greatest monarch a country could hope to have...far greater than I could ever have hoped to be.\"\n\n\"You do yourself a grave injustice, Artumas,\" Gillian interjected quietly. \"As you stated, Myrhia beguiled all with whom she treated. There is none who can truthfully claim they divined her nature prior to the instant she elected to reveal her black essence to the world.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so, Gillian, but in all candor, it was I with whom she shared her bed...not they,\" Artumas insisted, stubbornly clinging to his perceived guilt. \"If ever one should glean the true essence of another's soul...it is in those shared moments of intimacy.\"\n\n\"Those could well be the most misguided words you've ever spoken, Artumas,\" Islena contradicted with surprising rancor. \"It is between the sheets that we weave our most skilled deceptions...tell our most damaging lies. In fact, if you want to discern the truth of a person's essence, I would wager that it would never be found during sexual union.\"\n\n\"A sad and surprisingly cynical perspective, Islena,\" Artumas observed, obviously unsettled by the degree of Islena's bitterness.\n\n\"But a ruthlessly realistic one, Artumas,\" Islena retorted, her tone combative. His tale had left her feeling oddly...dissatisfied and therein could be found the source of her ire. \"Sex holds no meaning for Myrhia, despite her awesome beauty. It is another form of methodology for her...a means to an end. For Myrhia, sex is a tool...another venue of manipulation. Can you honestly say that my sorry husband tasted the ugliness of her black soul when his face was buried between her thighs?\" She arose swiftly, her color becoming high and hectic as her voice grew shrill. The pain of Ben's betrayal lanced her and she lashed out like a wounded animal. \"Peering into your past memories Artumas...did you have any inkling that Guinevere imagined that it was her French Knight moving inside of her whenever you made love?\"\n\nArtumas recoiled, his lined face contorting into an expression of acute misery.\n\n' _You are cruel beyond comprehension, Islena,'_ Guinevere moaned, and Doraux's body quaked involuntarily in response to the legendary queen's outrage.\n\n' _Maybe so, but he must be made to see the unadorned truth if he's ever going to cast off this mantle of debilitating self-pity,'_ Islena declared flatly in her mind. _'If he's to be of any value at all, Artumas has to shed his self-flagellating guilt and realize that there is nothing he could have done to prevent Myrhia from being precisely where she is at this exact juncture in time.'_\n\n\"Perhaps you have the right of the matter, Islena,\" Artumas said at last, speaking in a voice that clearly declared the extent to which he'd been hurt by Islena's remark. \"Like human vanity...the human heart's capacity for deceit seems virtually boundless.\"\n\nSensing the pain that Islena's last baffling remark had inflicted upon the deposed king, the ever perceptive Arminda quickly asked, \"Artumas, how did Myrhia finally reveal her true nature and purpose.\"\n\nArtumas merely shook his head. \"I'm sorry good lady, but that is a tale for another occasion. It is late and its recounting has left me exhausted in way I had not anticipated.\"\n\nAs the four watched, Artumas rose and traipsed over to his bedroll...a despondent cloud hovering over him like a pall.\n\nSoon the others followed suit as if they had been infected by the Emercian's dejection, leaving Islena alone before the flickering fire. Her gaze fell upon the shadow of the man whom she had loved through untold lifetimes and she shook her head in dismay. Turning on her left side, Islena closed her eyes and waited for sleep to claim her.\n\nChapter Twenty Eight\n\n1\n\nMuragren huddled next to the wall of the cave, listening absently to the forlorn wail of the gusting wind as it scoured the face of the world beyond the narrow entrance. She watched in uncomfortable silence as Ynathreen moved quickly and efficiently to light a fire that warmed the interior and mercifully banished the slave's bone-deep chill.\n\nYet even this delicious heat could not thaw the chill dread that clutched at Muragren's rapidly beating heart as she watched the powerful girl turn her attention to the unconscious Jerhia captive. The sense that something inexpressibly horrible was about to transpire in this remote and humble cave set her heart to hammer in her narrow chest.\n\nYnathreen's pretty face was set in a flat, inscrutable expression, as were her limpid blue eyes, betraying nothing of the emotions concealed behind this façade of impassivity. Her movements were brisk and efficient, graceful and lithe in a manner that one would not normally expect from such a large and powerfully constructed woman. Though her visage and movements suggested composure, Muragren could conceive a barely constrained fury building within the girl...one that would inevitably explode in a violent frenzy that the slave had absolutely no desire to witness.\n\nBending down, Ynathreen effortlessly carried the Jerhia over to a roughly rectangular protrusion of stone that resembled a raised dais or table. Upon closer inspection, Muragren determined that her first impression was correct. At some point in the distant, long forgotten past, someone had painstakingly chiseled the protrusion of stone to form a crude table. Her stomach constricted painfully when she noticed the two deep runnels that had been gouged along both long edges of the rectangular top. There had been no mistaking that this had been rendered solely for the letting of blood...be it to serve the demands of a demented god or simply the dark human craving for suffering.\n\nFinding her voice, Muragren attempted to entice Ynathreen to share her purpose. \"Ynathreen, what is it you intend to do to this woman?\"\n\nYnathreen did not spare Muragren a glance. Instead, she commenced removing the Jerhia's uniform, though she did not simply tear the garments from the woman's body. Rather, she carefully and deliberately removed the heavy, oil-treated cape and then began to unbutton the brown leather tunic of what was clearly a military uniform. She neatly folded each piece and stacked them on the cave floor next to the table. \"I will forgive your presumption, slave...I intend to question her with a mind to determine the identity of the person who led the attack on the mines.\"\n\n\"To what end?\" Muragren persisted, wincing at the realization that she was treading on the perilously thin ice of impertinence.\n\nYnathreen's head snapped up and her eyes widened menacingly. She crossed over to Muragren and jerked her roughly to her feet. Looking over the smaller woman, she brushed the hair from the slave's right ear and growled, \"I would know the name of the person who killed my father so that I might whisper it in their ear when I cut their heart out.\"\n\nWith this, she savagely pushed Muragren back to the cold stone floor and returned to the task of divesting the Jerhia of her remaining clothing. _'She's mad with grief,'_ Muragren understood, _'and this unfortunate woman is going to be the recipient of its outpouring.'_\n\nShe watched, paralyzed by dawning horror and revulsion, as Ynathreen removed the last of the Jerhia's clothing.\n\nIt required only one glance at the hollow cheeks and the prominent ribs for Muragren to recognize the tell-tale signs of deprivation. However the Jerhia had come to find herself in the remote wilds of Redia, her road here had been an unthinkably harsh one. The woman was young and under other circumstances would have been quite fetching...had constant exposure to harsh elements and hunger not tarnished the luster of her beauty.\n\nGripping the edges of the Jerhia's thin cotton shift, Ynathreen's powerful hands tore the garment into thin strips. These she used to tightly bind the Jerhia's wrists before lifting the naked woman into her arms and carrying her to a spot near the rear wall of the cave. Gripping the smaller woman's wrists, she hefted her up and hooked her bound wrists on a thick shaft of stone that jutted from the wall. The Jerhia's feet dangled well above the floor even as her arms seemed to visibly stretch under her body's relatively light weight.\n\n\"You may abandon the pretext of unconsciousness, bitch!\" Ynathreen announced as she returned to the table to retrieve one of the Jerhia short swords.\n\nThe woman's eyes fluttered open, scanning the confines of the cave as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. They widened almost comically as her gaze swept over the imposing figure of Ynathreen, before coming to rest on Muragren. \"You lying bitch!\"\n\nEven as Muragren shook her head in denial, Ynathreen surged forward and casually delivered a back hand that bounced the Jerhia's head off the stone wall. The resounding smack of flesh on flesh came in sharp counterpoint to the muffled thud of the woman's skull colliding with unyielding stone. Blood began to trickle languidly from the Jerhia's nostrils as her glazed blue eyes settled squarely on her Redian captor. \"If you speak out of turn or address this slave, I will break your ribs. Do you understand?\"\n\nAfter a moment, the pretty blond signified her understanding with a nod. Ynathreen approached the suspended woman and leaned the short sword against the wall near her left leg. Retreating a pace with her limpid blue eyes never leaving her captive's face, Ynathreen began to slowly remove her own clothing...again taking great care to fold and stack her garments.\n\nMuragren shook her head, thoroughly baffled by the girl's mystifying burlesque...even as her gaze swept appreciatively over the girl's stunning body. Ynathreen was indeed an exotic paradox...an enticing blend of muscle and sweeping feminine curves that seemed to exude raw power and sexuality in equal measure.\n\nSomething in Ynathreen's brazen nudity had a deeply disconcerting affect on the Jerhia, whose voice quavered badly when she demanded, \"What are you doing?\"\n\nYnathreen's answering smile was every bit as frigid as the wind that held court beyond the mouth of the cave. Clearly the Jerhia grasped something of the Redian's girl's intention and now found herself terrified by the prospect of what was to follow.\n\nMuragren shuddered again and fought the urge to flee in the face of whatever was to follow.\n\nYnathreen snatched up the short sword, while simultaneously wrapping her fingers around the woman's thin neck. How utterly frangible the Jerhia's flesh seemed in the Redian's powerful grasp. Ynathreen pressed her body against the Jerhia's, pinioning the woman to the cold stone and causing her to cry out in revulsion.\n\n\"Do I repulse you, Jerhia...is it the feel of my flesh that causes you to shiver in revulsion?\" Ynathreen demanded in a deceptively light tone. She then raised the sword and teasingly brushed the keen edge over one of the woman's pink nipples that the cold had roused into a turgid knot on the Jerhia's pert left breast.\n\nMuragren's thin fingers fluttered to her mouth of their own volition as she began to wag her head in a desperate gesture of negation.\n\n\"Let me explain precisely what is to follow, Jerhia bitch,\" Ynathreen continued in a clinically detached voice that was somehow more terrifying than fury or outrage. \"You realize, of course, that I am a Redian...a barbarian without remorse or compunction. In truth, I am little more than an animal. Is this not so, Jerhia?\"\n\nThe diminutive blond continued to stare at Ynathreen, her pale blue eyes wide with trepidation.\n\n\"Is it not so?\" Ynathreen roared, evoking a cry from the prisoner, who closed her eyes and attempted to twist her face away from her demented tormentor. Ynathreen gripped the woman's contorted face in powerful fingers and jerked her head back while pressing the short sword's killing edge against her throat. \"You will speak...I can promise you that because if you do not, then you will scream...scream until your throat bursts.\"\n\nMuragren emitted a strangled gasp and her moon-eyed gaze slid to the crossbow that stood forgotten near the entrance to the cave.\n\n' _You must stop this!'_ an adamant voice insisted from over the clamor of her anguished thoughts. _'If you allow this heinous act of torture to unfold, you will become a party to its evil.'_\n\nAgain Muragren, who deplored physical violence above all things, shook her head in horrified negation. The notion that she could actually put a bolt into the livid girl's back was simply inconceivable.\n\n\"There's really no need to give it voice,\" Ynathreen continued. \"Your kind's contempt for my people is a palpable thing...like the stench of your sallow flesh. You have good reason to quail in the face of what confronts you. A Redian woman is adept at removing flesh from living vessels with the greatest of care. They are able to strip a grown man to the raw oozing sub-tissue...without taking his life. Of course, the pain is an argent thing...exquisite in its intensity. Then there is the blood...startling really. It is why I'm naked. It is better that I am spattered than to stain my clothing with Jerhia corruption.\"\n\nThe woman's throat worked furiously against the press of the blade and tears began to course over her sharp cheek bones. Ynathreen caught a tear on her long index finger and raised it to her lips. \"I taste your fear Jerhia and that is well as it may surmount your pride and keep you alive. I will ask you a series of short questions and you will provide me with answers. If I am satisfied that they are legitimate, I will release you unharmed. If you refuse to answer...or if I come to suspect that you have deceived me...I will begin peeling the flesh from your body.\"\n\nSlowly, she guided the blade over the hunger-carved topography of the other woman's trembling torso, bringing the blade to a halt at the top of the Jerhia's lean right thigh. \"I will commence here, peeling away a strip of skin from thigh to knee for every question that goes unanswered. If that does not prove to be sufficient inducement to divulge the answers I require, I will begin to remove your fingers one joint at a time...then your toes...and finally your eyes. Do you believe me, Jerhia?\"\n\nThe woman nodded frantically, her eyes alight with primal dread in the face of a young monster who seemed capable of any act of depravity.\n\nMuragren rose slowly to her feet on legs that trembled wildly like saplings in a strong wind. With her gaze set squarely on Ynathreen's broad, muscular back, she began to move laterally in the direction of the crossbow...a weapon she had never held, much less fired.\n\n' _Do you really believe that you are capable of shooting this girl...who is little more than a child in a woman's body...in the back?'_ The improbable query drew Muragren's thin lips into a frown of dismay. She abhorred violence and believed fervently in the sanctity of life. What she was contemplating was anathema to every value she held sacred. Yet, her failure to act would facilitate an act of evil to which her inaction would make her a party.\n\n' _She is Redia's one true hope for salvation,'_ Ghordrian's final declaration echoed through her consciousness, further fueling the fires of her vacillation.\n\n\"What is your name?\" Ynathreen demanded in a flat voice that held forth no prospect for mercy. That lack of humanity resounded in Muragren's ears as a vehement refutation of her father's assertion.\"\n\n\"I...I am called Cauldanys,\" the woman offered in a voice that quavered on the edge of hysteria, just as Muragren's quivering fingers closed on the butt of the crossbow.\n\n\"Cauldanys...a pretty name...for a murderous bitch!\" Ynathreen offered, rancor flaring in her luminous eyes. \"You...and the other insects I crushed...are Jerhia?\"\n\nAfter a slight hesitation, Cauldanys nodded and Muragren winced, relieved when Ynathreen did not detect lie. Slowly, she raised the weapon into firing position, bringing it to center between the girl's shoulder blades. Her index finger fluttered over the trigger even as her heart began to hammer in her chest.\n\nYnathreen leaned her full weight against the terrified Jerhia and offered her a viper's grin, as though satisfied by her response. \"I will not ask how you came to be in Redia or what vile promise you were meant to serve. In truth, these answers hold no interest for me...your craven destruction of the mine speaks eloquently of Jerhia intent. I require the answer to only one questions...provide it and you may be on your way...refuse and I will butcher you like the swine you are.\"\n\nCauldanys whimpered, torn between duty and stark terror. Stoic defiance was all well and good in the lecture halls of Summergaden, but not such a simply matter when blazing into the unblinking countenance of evil.\n\n\"Now, who commands your forces here...I require the name of the one who ordered the destruction of the mine. I require only a name,\" Ynathreen demanded in a deceptively placid voice.\n\nCauldanys' throat constricted and yet, despite her paralytic dread, she found the mettle to simply shake her head. Ynathreen fetched an exasperated sigh and then swiftly stepped back. A slight push, followed by a sharp twist of the blade, first left and then right drew a sharp exhalation of pain from the Jerhia. A thin crimson line appeared at the top of the Jerhia's right thigh and blood began to cascade over the pale flesh in a shocking brilliant sheet.\n\nMuragren came to within a breath of depressing the trigger then and bringing this black drama to an emphatic end. _'If you eschew your principles here, you will have effectively eradicated this barbaric country's only chance for redemption.'_ A calm voice declared, cutting through the charged emotion that threatened to compel Muragren into a soul-defiling act. _'Ghordrian entrusted you to bring enlightenment and humanity to his daughter so that she might lead Redia into an age of civility. Now, because of a cruel jest of fate, she has been prodded to the very edge of the abyss of moral dissolution. You, who have devoted your entire life to forging young minds into compassionate, civilized adults, would now renounce all that you believe and simply kill the girl? That single unconscionable act would be a blight on your soul...a repudiation of everything you claim to be. If this is a sorry legacy you wish to avoid then embrace Ghordrian's commission and impart your first lesson here and now.'_\n\nMuragren froze, understanding that she had come to within a breath of committing a grievous error.\n\nCauldanys screeched, but still shook her head, refusing to speak. Ynathreen nodded absently. \"Very well, let us begin then.\" With a pronounced note of dark glee, she added, \"Unlike my older Redian sisters, I have no experience in this process...I would anticipate a great deal of pain.\"\n\nMuragren set the crossbow in place, drew herself erect and roared, \"Ynathreen...daughter of Ghordrian...I would speak to you outside...at once.\"\n\nYnathreen spun around, her face set in a comical expression of incredulity, the short sword hanging forgotten in her left hand.\n\nBefore fury could replace shock, Muragren turned on heel and strode from the cave. Ynathreen spared the captive one final baleful glare and snatching up her cloak, followed the Fairmarch slave out into the stormy night.\n\n2\n\nWhen Muragren had gone some fifty paces from the entrance, she abruptly spun in place, stealing herself to confront the living vessel of anger she had provoked. She drew a tremulous breath...grasping that she had come to a definitive moment in her life.\n\nYnathreen emerged then and her harsh breathing raised great white plumes in the frigid air. As she crossed the distance to where Muragren waited, the former Fairmarch teacher was grateful to see that she no longer carried the short sword.\n\n' _Not that she couldn't just as easily bludgeon me to death with her fists,'_ she thought, staggered by the audacity of her intended action. When Ynathreen had come to within three paces, Muragren darted forward and slapped the taller girl's face with all the ferocity her wasted body could muster. Then she retreated several paces and in a voice she'd reserved for withering errant students, declared, \"Ynathreen...daughter of Clan Chief Ghordrian...you shame your father's name and sully his memory.\"\n\nThe impact of the feeble blow lacked the requisite force to even turn the girl's head, though her eyes widened and she slowly raised her left hand to her cheek. In a gruff voice, fraught with dark promise, she intoned, \"I'm going to kill you for that Muragren Eb Tamen.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, but for now you will remain silent and simply listen.\" Reaching into the deep pocket of Ghordrian's heavy cloak, Muragren produced the intaglio and venturing forward, stood on her toes and slipped the heavy chain over the girl's unmoving head. Ynathreen collected the intaglio in her long fingers, examining the device with a grave expression on her face. \"Your father bid me to give this to you...when he saw that his situation was without hope. He also instructed me to guide you toward enlightenment...a heightened civility, because in his eyes you are to be Redia's salvation. Before the calamity at the mine, you vowed that you would allow me to tutor you as I saw fit...that I would have a free hand to structure your education to achieve your father's laudable aims. You made me promise that I would not be deferential or meek.\"\n\n\"All has changed now,\" Ynathreen remarked pensively in a voice that was bereft of vitality as her thumb caressed the intaglio.\n\nLaying a finger on the device, Muragren inquired sharply, \"What is the significance of this symbol?\"\n\nYnathreen inhaled sharply, struggling to master the plethora of emotions this symbol evoked. Quietly, she replied, \"This is a totem of his position as Clan Chief of Elderspire. By bequeathing this to me, Ghordrian has acknowledged me as his successor.\"\n\nMuragren gripped the girl's powerful shoulders and shook her vigorously, pleased and relieved that the girl made no attempt to throw her off. \"Then nothing has changed...you are still the living engine of your father's vision for a new Redia. Let me help you along this path by giving me an unbiased ear and an open mind now.\"\n\nYnathreen gripped the intaglio and lifted her head. Her blue eyes glinted in the pale moonlight like frost-rimmed iron. \"I'm listening...Muragren.\"\n\nMuragren drew a calming breath to steady the frenetic gallop of her heart and then forged ahead. \"Ynathreen, your father spoke of you being Redia's one hope for salvation.\" She raised a thin arm and gestured toward the cave entrance which was now obscured by darkness. \"I can guarantee you that the path to salvation does not run through your intended course of action in that cave. Irrespective of what perceived benefit it might yield, your soul...your integrity will be forfeit if you torture that woman. By succumbing to the savage inclination of your nature...no matter how justified your actions might seem...you will have lost any moral currency. Your father has set before you a task that is daunting beyond all imagining. To shatter perceptions and raise Redia from the status of incorrigible miscreant...you may have to shame it with the unassailable purity of your own example.\"\n\n\"And what of the individual who led the attack on the mines, Muragren?\" Ynathreen countered hotly. \"Were they pure and virtuous? The Jerhia woman, Cauldanys...would have ordered your death had I not intervened. You were alone and frightened and she still would have put the bolt in your heart. That would have been your reward for adhering to your values...murdered by those who claim to be your allies. How many slaves died in that mine, Muragren? Will any of these virtuous men and women shed a tear for their passing?\"\n\n\"Ynathreen, do you not see...your passionate argument only corroborates my contention. If you conveniently abandon values and humanity in the name of expedience...then you've lost everything. There is a sinister, addictive danger in what you are contemplating doing to Cauldanys. Each successive recurrence will become easier...the pretext flimsier. I'm begging you to let me be your guiding hand in these matters, Ynathreen. Permit me to help you fulfill your father's vision and I swear that I will devote whatever remains of my life to you.\"\n\nYnathreen dropped her chin to her chest and closed her eyes. Muragren thought she could hear the machinery of the girl's nimble mind as she weighed the merits of this argument against her own thirst for retribution. Finally, Ynathreen glanced briefly at her father's intaglio and inhaled sharply. \"When I first said that I would have you instruct me as you saw fit, I did not mean that I would blindly accept everything you put forth as the incontrovertible truth.\"\n\nShe gripped the collar of Ghordrian's heavy cloak and roughly jerked Muragren closer, her unrelenting gaze boring into her would be tutor. \"I would have the name of my father's murderer, but I will grant you the opportunity to demonstrate the effectiveness of your path of higher virtue. Convince this Cauldanys to divulge this name and I will honor my promise.\"\n\nMuragren's relief was palpable, but Ynathreen punctuated her next fierce declaration by shaking the smaller woman like a rag doll. \"Be forewarned, Muragren...if you fail to coax the Jerhia from her position of intransigence, it will be you who carves the flesh from her bones.\"\n\nWith this horrifying vow delivered, she roughly propelled the mortified Muragren toward the entrance of the cave.\n\n3\n\nCauldanys barely raised her head when her tormentor and the other woman returned, knowing that the outcome of their conversation would probably dictate her fate. She had resigned herself to the inevitability of her death, but prayed for the cold mercy of a swift end. Despite her years of indoctrination in Jerhia stoicism in the face of torture, Cauldanys doubted the she possessed the fortitude to face the end this monster had promised with any degree of dignity.\n\n' _To come to this ignoble end when all I secretly desired was a humble home by a lake and daughters to love,'_ she lamented, suddenly despising everything that had led her to this awful juncture...her country, its twisted conception of honor and nobility...she hated all of it!\n\nShe raised her head and cried out as her painful distended shoulders issued a strident protest. The pain in her joints was far worse than the sting of the superficial wound on her gore-spattered thigh.\n\nSeeing the Jerhia's extreme discomfort, Muragren turned to Ynathreen and adjured, \"May I ask that you lay her on the stone table?\"\n\nThe tall, powerfully built savage shrugged off her cloak and crossing over to where Cauldanys hung, effortlessly lifted the Jerhia free of the stone hook. The diminutive woman shuddered at being held by this frightening creature, she briefly wondered if all Redian women were so unabashed by their brazen nudity.\n\nAfter gently laying the diminutive blond on the cold stone, Ynathreen stepped back and brusquely motioned for Muragren to begin.\n\nThe shorter woman's face was smeared with a cracked blue substance that lent her visage a garish aspect. She approached the table and carefully lowered Cauldanys' bound arms to rest along her torso. Then she began to tenderly massage life back into the Jerhia's tingling neck and shoulders while regarding her with gray eyes that were both lovely and kind. \"Cauldanys, I need you to listen carefully...this girl does not bluff. If you do not yield a name, she will make good on her threat, but if you provide this single piece of innocuous information...she will release you with no further harm.\"\n\n\"Do you honestly expect me to believe that she won't butcher me the moment I utter what she wishes to know?\" Cauldanys rasped in a voice that was at once sardonic and resigned.\n\n\"You would question my honor...Jerhia cunt?\" Ynathreen exploded and stormed toward the defenseless captive, but Muragren quickly imposed herself in the path of the livid Redian. \"Given what you've already subjected her to, what other reaction could you reasonably expect, Ynathreen? Remember...always choose logic over emotion.\"\n\nYnathreen glowered mightily, but then shook her head in apparent disgust and returned to her previous spot along the wall. Cauldanys watched the surprising exchange, perplexed by the strange dynamic that existed between the pair.\n\nMuragren returned her attention to the Jerhia, laying a callused hand along her angular right cheek. \"She will honor her promise, now please...a simple name and this ordeal will be over...for all of us.\"\n\n\"I...I can't,\" the Jerhia moaned, tearing springing to her lovely blue eyes. \"I would become a craven in the eyes of my own people...an outcast relegated to a place of shame.\"\n\nMuragren shook her head vigorously. \"That is ridiculous, Cauldanys. She is not asking that you share critical information on operations or objectives...only a name. What harm can come of a simple name...how can it possibly construed as treasonous or cowardly?\"\n\nMuragren crawled onto the table and bent over the bound Jerhia until their faces were scant inches apart. \"I am Muragren Eb Tamen from Fairmarch, though I have spent years as a slave in the very mine you destroyed yesterday. She is Ynathreen...Clan Chief of Elderspire...a titled granted to her by Ghordrian, her father, who died in the mine yesterday. You are Cauldanys of Jerhia...but does Ynathreen hold any greater power over you because she knows your name?\"\n\nSuddenly, Muragren could no longer restrain the tears that had threatened to spring forth since this black drama had commenced. They rained down on the startled Jerhia in a warm flood. \"Please Cauldanys...I'm begging you to tell her what she wants. Is your life of so little value that you would squander it to ward a name? I have seen death and suffering in profusion that no living being should ever be forced to endure...and I can tolerate no more...for the sake of both of us I beg you...please speak the name!\"\n\nCauldanys peered up at Muragren, transfixed by the extent of the other woman's pain and cognizant of the warm sensation of tears on her chapped skin. In a moment of perfect empathy, she was afforded a profound and poignant glimpse into the other woman's soul and in that fleeting glance, she witnessed a beauty and purity of spirit that left her feeling indelibly sullied by comparison. She gazed up into those limpid gray eyes, so alive with expectation...and signaled her agreement with a slight nod...moved when a relieved Muragren exuberantly kissed her cheek.\n\n' _And to think that I came within a breath of killing her,'_ Cauldanys thought with a tremor of dismay.\n\nYnathreen pushed herself from the wall, her face set in an expression of genuine surprise and relief...or so Muragren imagined. \"Speak Jerhia...my patience is exhausted!\"\n\n\"Sygeanor!\" Cauldanys blurted, the name bursting from her lips as if she was expelling something ineffably vile. Hesitantly, she added, \"She is not of Jerhia...She is Metocan-Ulgak.\"\n\n\"Sygeanor,\" Ynathreen whispered, her incisive blue eyes narrowing. \"And it is she who commands your forces in Redia...who destroyed the mine?\"\n\n\"Yes...on my honor,\" Cauldanys replied hastily. Ynathreen nodded brusquely as a shadow fell over her broad features. She swiftly pivoted and snatched up the Jerhia short sword. Cauldanys cried out in fear while Muragren prepared to throw herself over the defenseless Jerhia, thinking that the girl intended to renege on her promise. Instead, Ynathreen gripped the Jerhia's slender wrists and deftly sliced away the cloth strips that bound them.\n\nStanding back, Ynathreen gestured toward Cauldanys' filthy uniform. \"Dress and be on your way.\"\n\nThe Jerhia shifted a wary glance to Muragren, who nodded encouragingly, and quickly moved to comply. Shifting her regard to Ynathreen, who had returned to her own discarded clothing, Muragren was suddenly suffused by a rush of pride so intense that she began to weep silently.\n\nStaring at the towering Redian, the Fairmarch slave knew, without equivocation, that this extraordinary girl could be reclaimed. With Muragren's guiding hand, Ynathreen might indeed grow to be the queen who would lead this wayward country back along the path to civility.\n\nWhen both women were again dressed, Ynathreen handed an incredulous Jerhia a short sword and a crossbow, along with her original cache of meager rations. \"You will carry this message to Sygeanor...Ynathreen, clan chief of Elderspire, daughter of Ghordrian...will see her dead by my hand.\"\n\nCauldanys' eyes resembled saucers in reaction to the audacious girl's bold threat. Such monumental temerity would be her undoing. Her circumstances had assumed an air of surrealism and perhaps it was this that compelled the Jerhia veteran to offer her captor a word of cautionary advice. \"Sygeanor is a...terrifying woman. She is merciless and possessed of immense magical power.\"\n\nYnathreen's answering grin was every bit as keen as the blade of the Jerhia's short sword. \"Then we are well matched and I am looking forward to our inevitable meeting with keen anticipation.\"\n\nCauldanys shook her head in bemusement and turned to leave, but Muragren gently gripped her elbow. \"I will attend to your wound...it might fester quickly if left untreated.\"\n\nCauldanys, who wanted only to be out of the presence of the imposing Redian, reluctantly agreed, compelled by the earnest light that shone in the gentle woman's gray eyes. Muragren led her back to the impromptu table and bid her to expose her injured thigh. As the other two women looked on with interest, the former teacher began to melt a lump of frozen clay on a flat stone that ringed the fire pit.\n\nYnathreen came to stand beside the nervous Jerhia. \"On your journey back to your cowardly raiders, I would have you reflect on what might have happened this night. Muragren's actions spared your life, but had you murdered her in cold blood, you still may have found yourself alone with me in this cave...with no one to intervene on your behalf. Pray to whatever blood-drenched gods you worship that I never set eyes upon you again in this life.\"\n\nCauldanys could not repress the shiver that twisted her spine, but somehow mustered the courage to reply, \"I pray that I do see you again Ynathreen. When the last of the futile battles has been fought, I would like to find you and thank you for sparing my life tonight. With this woman's guidance, I would look into your eyes and see the woman you have become. If you would have it...I would even offer you my hand in friendship.\"\n\nYnathreen started to respond, but the woman's unexpected overture of friendship threatened to overwhelm her with a complex array of emotions that ranged from shame to dawning comprehension. Blushing furiously, she quickly turned and stalked to the far corner of the cave.\n\nAs she labored, Muragren stole furtive glances at the pair and was immensely pleased by the exchange and its unsettling affect on Ynathreen. It was precisely these types of formative interactions that would mold the girl into a living catalyst of change.\n\n' _And you must be her constant shadow,'_ a voice informed her and in that illuminating moment of clarity, the Fairmarch teacher realized that her earlier vow had been sincerely offered...she would devote the remainder of her life to this extraordinary girl's evolution.\n\nWhen the lump of clay had thawed sufficiently, she carried it over to Cauldanys, who regarded her quizzically. \"This clay is an incredible emollient,\" Muragren assured her. \"It will ward you against infection and promote rapid healing of your wound.\"\n\nThe Jerhia nodded, surprised by the pleasant cooling sensation that spread over the affected area as the woman massaged the clay over her wound. When Muragren had completed her ministration, Cauldanys thanked her and hitching up her trousers, made her way to the mouth of the cave.\n\nThe two women came to join her as outside a light snow had begun to swirl through the mountain passes. Cauldanys hitched her crossbow over her shoulder and turned her face to the pair. \"Ynathreen, I would again express my gratitude for sparing my life. You may doubt my sincerity, but I am genuinely sorry for the death of your father. Muragren, what you have demonstrated in this cave...your compassion and capacity to forgive...has forever altered the person I am and I want only to be free of this false obligation and live a worthy life.\"\n\nMuragren smiled fondly, privately harboring the hope that this woman would be granted her wish. Even Ynathreen offered the Jerhia a grudging nod as Cauldanys moved into the blustery night, but then stopped and turned back to the unusual pair. \"Ynathreen, I will convey your message, but I will not divulge this location. I pray that you decide to forego this vendetta.\"\n\nWith this, she was gone, swallowed by the snow and darkness.\n\nChapter Twenty Nine\n\n1\n\nBen Richards sat on the patio of his suburban home, which now reminded him of a tomb, staring morosely over his back yard. The expanse of neglected space over which he now gazed was a tangled sprawl of weeds and uncut grass...a reflection of his life that had become chaos where once there had been order. In many ways, this once meticulously maintained space...now left to decay...was symbolic of the mire into which his life had descended.\n\nIn the intervening weeks between Allan's abduction and this early summer day, Ben felt himself sinking deeper into the abyss. He had been granted an unpaid and indefinite medical leave by his firm and was now forced to live frugally on his family's savings, which were dwindling rapidly, despite his best efforts to exercise any measure of fiscal restraint.\n\nHe dreaded the inevitable day when the last of those savings had been expended and he would be forced to return to work. Taking up the threads of normalcy...living the absurd charade of an everyday, normal life...struck Richards as both inconceivable and an unconscionable betrayal of his wife and son, who had been swept away by Myrhia's vile design.\n\nThinking of Myrhia caused Richards to scowl and whisper her name as if uttering the foulest of curses. In the weeks following Allan's abduction, the FBI had repeatedly and assiduously questioned both Ben and his remaining son Donald. Despite the intense duress of these interrogations, neither had recanted nor revised their story and in the end, the Feds had shifted their focus to the enigmatic Myrhia La Fey. Ultimately, they were able to confirm that a woman matching Myrhia's description had frequently been seen in Richards' company over the past nine months.\n\nBeyond that, Myrhia remained an elusive puzzle for which investigators could produce no solution. Reluctantly, they conceded defeat, candidly admitting that it was unlikely that they would ever solve the mystery of Islena and Allan's abduction and the collateral devastation that swirled around these two terrible events.\n\nThough he was relieved when the federal authorities had finally desisted and their unannounced visits ceased, the subsequent silence that had descended upon his shattered household threatened to sunder his tenuous grip of sanity. He and Donald both wandered through the dreary house like embittered ghosts in search of something that was now irretrievably lost. Worse still, Ben felt certain that the boy had come to regard him with an accusatory glower...as if he, Richards, was personally responsible for every woe that had befallen them.\n\n' _Can you say with any degree of honest conviction that you are not?'_ he demanded of himself and beneath the harsh glare of the afternoon sunshine, Richards admitted that he could not. The depth and completeness to which he had fallen to Myrhia's deception made denial thoroughly pointless.\n\nWorse still, it exposed a glaring and unpalatable truth that Richards was now forced to confront...Ben Richards, all pretension and delusions aside...had never been worthy of Islena Doraux. Theirs had been a union of absurdly disproportionate parts of which he had been the considerably smaller sum. That Allan and Donald had been the victim of their marital debacle was the greatest tragedy of all.\n\nBen shook his head and resumed his dejected study of the rear lawn. Two questions chased each other through his troubled mind...would he ever see Islena Doraux again and if so, what shape would their reunion assume?\n\n2\n\nIt had been three days since Artumas had shared the tale of the genesis of his relationship with Myrhia. In that time, the party had managed to surpass the point where Gillian and Arminda had first come upon the western ocean. A decidedly strange sense of isolation had descended over the party's mood as they traipsed over the leagues of unbroken golden sand. Each of the members seemed to have turned inward and conversation had become both brief and infrequent.\n\nEven the gregarious Sormias seemed to spend most of his waking hours aloft, perhaps having gleaned the odd reticence that had fallen over the others.\n\nIslena had awoken on the morning immediately following Artumas' recounting to find Lorio kneeling before the sitting king. Her hand was resting lightly on his right knee and she was leaning forward, speaking to the Emercian in a low, intense voice. At regular intervals, Artumas would nod thoughtfully and gently pat her shoulder in a decidedly paternal gesture of placation. Islena had correctly deduced that Lorio was offering the king an apology for her scathing outburst of the previous night. Doraux shook her head with a rueful kind of affection. Lorio's tempestuous nature would insure a frequent recurrence of this particular drama over the course of her long life.\n\nShe was relieved to see that Artumas was magnanimous in imparting his forgiveness. In the end, she had offered a startled Artumas a tight hug and a prolonged kiss of gratitude that had left the aging king blushing in a hectic shade of red.\n\nIslena had been bemused to discover that she had reacted to this overt display of affection with a sharp pang of jealousy.\n\nNow, watching the pair walking beside each other in companionable silence, Islena understood that it had been Guinevere's reaction she had experienced that morning.\n\nIslena realized that in many respects, her treatment of Artumas had been every bit as hurtful as Lorio's. Unlike the immortal, she had been unable to compel herself to offer the king an apology...an action that had never come easy to the unflinchingly proud Doraux. In the intervening days, the pair had exchanged a few cursory words, but neither had seemed willing to open a dialogue concerning the critical things that lay unspoken between them.\n\nDoraux understood that there was an intrinsic danger in this avoidance, but she could not prod herself from this position of intransigence. She would often glance over to find Artumas regarding her, his benevolent face set in an inquisitive expression, but still he did not approach...evidently having decided that the first overture must come from her.\n\nEven her most stalwart companion, Lorio, kept a respectful distance and made no attempt to entice Islena out of her stoicism. She would occasionally approach Islena to inquire after her wellbeing...a bizarre reversal of roles considering it was Lorio who was heavy with child.\n\n' _They are distancing themselves from you...perhaps intuiting that you are destined to evolve into something far beyond their sensibilities.'_ It had been Agraria who offered this explanation and for once her tone had not been assiduous or truculent.\n\nIslena wanted to offer a scathing refutation of this loathsome idea, but Guinevere overrode her protest in her typically cogent fashion. _'I suspect Agraria is correct. The people around you...these companions who have been bound to you by destiny...may sense that you are a transcendent being...in whose shadow they will eventually become lost as you move toward your inevitable moment of ascension.'_\n\nDoraux stumbled to a fuming halt...infuriated by the suggestion that these people who had risked everything on her behalf...were nothing other than expendable bit players.\n\nA monumental fury took her then...one that made her want to purge and scour Guinevere and Agraria and the plethora of other clinging souls from her memory and consciousness. To regard the people around her as incidental...living pawns to be sacrificed as events required...this was the mindset of a tyrant.\n\n' _Or a goddess,'_ Guinevere added, her tone solemn. Islena responded to this unwelcome suggestion with a sour grimace of disgust.\n\n\"Stop!\" The single imperative burst from her lips...a cannonading roar that rolled over the expanse of beach like thunder. Inclining her head to the heavens, she waved frantically and cried, \"Sormias, come to land now.\"\n\nHer four land bound companions exchanged puzzled glances and started back along the sandy strand. Islena's intense and decidedly turbulent expression intimated that she was about to disclose something of immense consequence. Sormias spiraled down from the blue and landed next to Islena, who drew a deep breath to calm her nerves.\n\nIn the vast chamber of her consciousness, there arose a thunder of protest and dire warnings, as those past incarnations attempted to dissuade her from her intended course.\n\n' _I may be another facet of a vast personality,'_ she countered silently, _'but you're going to learn quickly...I have a mind of my own.'_\n\nIslena's piercing gaze swept the circle of earnest faces arrayed around her, vexed by the glint of concern in every eye. \"There is something I haven't shared...actually several things that you have every right to know before taking another step along this fucking beach. I'm going to come clean here and now and then we will decide as a group what we do next.\n\nOf the five, only Artumas gleaned any sense of what Islena intended to divulge. A strident admonition brayed in his mind as something huge and ineffably terrible battered at the fabric of his consciousness. Despite these burgeoning misgivings, Artumas managed to hold his tongue, discerning that the emotionally volatile Doraux was in no mood for argument.\n\nThe lot of you have traipsed across the entire continent, repeatedly risking your lives to protect me based on the belief that I am the world's savior,\" Doraux began in a voice that trembled with disgust. \"That selfless devotion is based on a lie...or at the very least, an incomplete truth.\"\n\nIslena searched their faces in hopes of seeing the first stirring of understanding. To her frustration she glimpsed only confusion and denial.\n\n\"Otaru Ree is in possession of the Dragonsword. She is, for the lack of a more appropriate title, the Queen of Purgatory. She has agreed to return the sword to my possession...for a price,\" Islena disclosed, her tone intimating that her price would be expensive indeed.\n\n\"Just your demeanor declares that this price is exorbitant,\" Gillian observed somberly.\n\nIslena nodded, her expression becoming grave as she confirmed, \"It is. I have asked for the sword...and passage through the land of the dead. At the time, I believe that this was our only viable option.\" She shook her head and scowled. \"No, I believed it was my only option...your concerns never entered into the equation.\"\n\n\"What were her terms, Islena,\" Lorio demanded softly, her dark eyes narrowed in speculative slits, though Islena suspected that the astute Lamish beauty had already guessed the answer.\n\n\"To begin with, she wants utter access to my mind...my soul. Otaru Ree impressed me as an exceptionally intelligent creature with an insatiable thirst for understanding. She discerned something of my essence and she would know my mind before relinquishing the Jerhia Icon. You see, she understood exactly what it was and the power it possesses and will not willingly yield it to a miscreant.\"\n\n\"So you have essentially agreed to submit yourself to her judgment?\" It was Artumas who posed this query, nodding as if to signify his approval.\n\n\"Yes and though it may seem like I've agreed to submit to mind rape...I think it will benefit me...especially in light of what I've come to suspect.\" Here Doraux paused and shook her head, her long red hair shimmering in the sun. \"It's her other condition that has caused me insufferable consternation. I must select one of my companions to serve as a sacrifice...a payment of passage.\"\n\nA steeped silence descended upon Islena's five companions, who struggled visibly with the dire ramifications of Doraux's revelation.\n\n\"You knew this and still lead us toward her...until your conscience prodded her into honesty,\" Lorio growled, her visage stiff with indignation.\n\nIslena raised her chin and her green eyes flashed defiantly, \"I did...what's more, I actually weighted the merits of whom I might offer to satisfy Otaru Ree's demand.\"\n\nArtumas ventured forward and gently placed a restraining hand on Islena's right shoulder. \"Please...show a measure of restraint...there are some truths that are better left unspoken.\"\n\n\"Not in this case, Artumas,\" Doraux contradicted fiercely. \"This is a moment for total candor...for brutal honesty. I will not deceive these people any longer. No one else in this back water world may believe that individual life has any inherent value, but I do. Each one of you has to see me for what I truly am. In the right situation, I would do whatever is convenient...expedient...to serve my own interest. Never lose sight of that ugly truth as you each decide what course we should follow from here.\"\n\nOf course it was Arminda who rose to challenge Islena's passionate contention, driven by a deeply inculcated sense of duty...and a lingering belief that her life was devoid of genuine worth. \"Islena, you are the one of ancient prophecy...our world's only chance of deliverance. There need not be an anguished debate. If this Otaru Ree demands a life as payment for safe passage, then I would offer mine gladly and let us continue on our way.\"\n\nDoraux reacted before being fully cognizant of her intention. Surging forward, she swiftly delivered a short, chopping blow to the right side of Arminda's face. The diminutive blonde's eyes rolled up in their sockets and she toppled to the soft sand like a felled tree.\n\nWhile her shocked companions looked on in paralyzed incredulity, Doraux reached down and jerked the Jerhia up by the collar. Face livid with rage, Islena growled, \"If you wish to capitulate to your infirmity or emulate your noble brother's valiant death, then do so.\" She shook a slack-jawed Arminda violently and cried, \"You will not use me to rationalize your desire for self-immolation. I won't have it.\"\n\nWith this, Islena slammed the Jerhia to the sand, where Arminda stared vacantly up at the pristine blue sky as her lovely face began to swell rapidly. Lorio came forward and firmly pushed Islena back from the prone Jerhia. Quietly, she intoned, \"That was cruelly done, Islena.\"\n\nIslena twisted away from the immortal and retreated a pace, scorching her other companions with a ferocious glare. \"Would anyone else care to offer themselves as a willing sacrifice?\"\n\nGillian knelt down next to the prostrate Jerhia and gently cradling her head, helped her into a sitting position. As she gradually regained cognizance, tears began to well in her pale blue eyes. The Jerhia swordsman lashed Doraux with an expression of utter contempt. \"If you wished to demonstrate that there is a viper couched in her troubled heart Islena, then this ignoble action has achieved your end. You're right...if salvation requires that we turn to a woman of your ilk for deliverance then perhaps we would be better served by accepting oblivion.\"\n\nIslena's answering grin was devoid of humor...glinting like ground glass and razors. \"Ah my would-be assassin is offended by my methods. It might interest you to know that...in my darkest musings...it was you who I offered up. I must confess that I find the very thought ironically amusing.\"\n\n\"Enough!\" Artumas bellowed, imposing himself between Doraux and the two Jerhia. \"You are acting like a petulant child throwing a tantrum when the world does not conform to your demands. If you insist on continuing in this manner, I will have Sormias dunk you into the ocean until you have recovered your wits.\"\n\nIslena's jaw dropped and she shifted her moon-eyed regard from Artumas to the Golgar, who merely shrugged and nodded in affirmation that he would indeed comply with the deposed king's request. Doraux shook her head and then her contentious anger evaporated...giving way to a hysterical, self-deprecating laughter so intense that it literally drove her to her knees.\n\nUnder the thrall of this outburst, Islena clutched her powerful shoulders and rolled about in the sand, while the other gazed on in open bemusement, thinking that extreme duress had perhaps stolen her reason. When her fit of laughter had at last subsided, she turned on her hands and knees and crawled over to Arminda. Without raising her gaze to meet the Jerhia's battered face, she took the young woman's hand. \"I'm so ashamed of what I've done to you that I can't even look you in the eye. Of all of us, Arminda...you are the most courageous and to strike you is beyond despicable...exposing me for the seriously flawed woman I am. I have no Zarcyk to give you, but I can offer this fervent prayer; if only two of us survive to see an end to this nightmare, I pray it is you and Lorio.\"\n\nArminda gently placed the flat of her palm on Islena's head as if offering a gesture of absolution. Doraux briefly met the girl's gaze extending the young woman a tentative smile of gratitude. She then sat back on her muscular haunches and surveyed her companions, suddenly feeling unbearably weary and incondign. Her next utterance sounded listless and forlorn even to her own ears. \"You all need to understand that even this great epic quest is really a sick joke. Back on the island...in the moments before I was flogged...I had an epiphany. In the time since, I've grappled with its meaning and though I'm far from resolving its complex riddle...its general shape is clearer now and I can promise you, it is something that none of us will welcome.\"\n\n\"Speak plainly, Islena!\" Lorio grumbled and her smooth brow furrowed with impatience. \"I grow tired of riddles and vague talk of augury. If there is something that you believe we are entitled to know then lay it forth succinctly.\"\n\nIslena favored Lorio with an indulgent grin. \"I've always contested that your world would have been much better served if fate had chosen you to play the role of its savior. You want me to lay it out in its ugly simplicity? Very well...I have lived before...hundreds of times, if not thousands. I can't be entirely certain because my recollections of past lives lived trail back into impenetrable shadow. Poets and bards claim that the flow of time is like a river, but that is only partially true. The flow of time is actually like a series of rivers all running in parallel...where each river is a different reality. I have lived in each of these rivers at various times...this was the revelation that came to me on the island. Until that precise moment, I was certain that I was an ordinary woman who had been unfairly torn from her rather mundane life by forces I didn't comprehend. This truth, as this epiphany has revealed, is considerably more complicated.\"\n\nIslena paused, allowing her companions a moment to absorb this cryptic disclosure. Her gaze found Artumas, who was regarding her with a speculative frown. Gently massaging her distended cheek, Arminda inquired, \"Then you are an immortal?\"\n\nIslena shook her head vigorously, wanting to dispel this particular misconception. \"Not in the way that you would define the word. I am very human and I will live a finite span of years and then die. Eventually I will be reborn in another reality...another river of parallel time. My cumulative life experience will become part of that incarnation's consciousness...along with all the other lives that have come before me.\"\n\n\"You say that you had no knowledge of those other incarnations prior to this epiphany on the island?\" Lorio asked in a tone that was rapier sharp.\n\nAs Lorio watched her intently, a look of earnest confusion stole into Islena's piercing green eyes. \"None, but I always felt restive...as if my life was a mere past time while I awaited something...momentous to transpire...which perhaps I was. I simply misconstrued what that something might be.\"\n\nShe surveyed the four and discerned the formative expressions of bewilderment and the nascent stirrings of fear that had sparked in every entranced eye. \"As perplexing and disturbing as this is...there's more and I warn you that it only grows more convoluted and fantastical as this story goes along.\" Setting her incisive gaze squarely upon Artumas, she disclosed, \"Through each of these lives, I was not alone. Though he only now has come to glean an inkling of his essence...and only the life prior to this one...Artumas has intimately shared every one of these incarnations. We have lived as husband and wife, brother and sister, lovers and bitter rivals.\"\n\n\"What you are asking us to accept Islena...it defies all reason...every precept of the nature of life and death,\" Gillian protested passionately.\n\nIslena shrugged, knowing that she was a living refutation of the tangible limits that accompanied conventional thinking. \"As I said, it only gets worse. Artumas and I have come to suspect that there is a third participant in this recurring drama...\"\n\n\"Myrhia!\" Lorio spat, her dark eyes brimming with horror...and acceptance.\n\nIslena nodded soberly. \"In every incarnation, Artumas and I have come together in an effort to thwart her machinations. As best as I can determine, we have always succeeded, but not without tragic and lingering consequences for the world our conflict has touched.\"\n\nEvery eye sought out Artumas for confirmation. The deposed king raised his hands in a gesture of genuine dismay, but nonetheless admitted, \"Islena is much further along the path of insight than I, but yes...seemingly absurd as her claim would sound...she is correct.\"\n\n\"What...what can this mean?\" Arminda stammered, her intonation garbled by her swollen cheek.\n\n\"I won't pretend that I can answer that question because there is much of this riddle that I have yet to grasp,\" Islena replied honestly. \"What I can say with any degree of certainty is that this epic moment in your world's history is really nothing more than another repetition of a time worn and tragic conflict between us three blood-spattered figures. Your world has had the misfortune of serving as the back drop to host the latest incarnation of the ugly dynamic that exists between the three of us. I sense that there is another critical aspect to this equation, but thus far, it has resisted my every attempt to draw it into the light.\"\n\nDoraux abruptly brought her monologue to an end and an abysmal silence descended upon the group. Lorio rose and looked out over the vast ocean that glistened like a freshly polished emerald. \"This insight, while disconcerting in the extreme, changes nothing Islena. We could engage in endless and tedious philosophical debates concerning the injustice of being drawn into your perpetual feud, but I say let that be fodder for the scholars. Whether this is a unique conflict with great romantic overtones or just another pathetic variation of the same repetitive and violent discord, it matters not to the rest of us. The salient reality remains the same...if the people of this world wish to survive, Myrhia must be torn down and ground to dust. Again, for all practicality, nothing has changed.\"\n\nIslena nodded, though she suspected that Lorio's prosaic perspective was a gross and potentially deadly over-simplification. It was imperative that she solve the riddle of this recurring nightmare, but that solution could only be deciphered by the three around whom it revolved. \"All right, but I promise to keep you informed of any further insights. For now, we must decide what we do from this point forth. Otaru Ree has made it explicitly clear that there is no latitude for waiving the price of passage...and I believe her. If we go forward into her domain...a sacrifice must be made. If I say _'damn the sword'_ and we strike out across the Land of Shades...we may well run directly into Myrhia and her Morticants. Even if we manage to circumvent her horde, the Hiberas remains an insurmountable barrier.\"\n\n\"What if we were to simply turn south and follow the coast to see if it might provide a means of egress?\" It was Arminda who offered this course of action and on the surface it seemed like a path not without its superficial appeal.\n\n\"Again, if we accept that the precepts of the prophecy are in any way legitimate, any course of action other than seeking to recover the Dragonsword...is futile and ultimately self-defeating,\" Artumas pointed out quietly.\n\n\"Ah, but therein lies the significance of my disclosure,\" Islena retorted smoothly. \"If the mystery of our shared destiny takes precedence over this world's great prophecy...then the outcome will follow the prescribed pattern...Proclamations not withstanding. One or both of us will die and Myrhia's machinations will be thwarted.\"\n\n\"You risk a frightful gamble in the surety that the pattern is inviolable, Islena,\" Artumas cautioned. \"By your own admission, you do not fully understand the forces by which it is governed...and absolutely nothing of its purpose.\"\n\nBefore an increasingly vexed Doraux could respond, Gillian astutely took up the thread of Artumas' contention. \"Islena, you have told us that Myrhia's past incarnations were invariably vanquished...but what if this particular re-enactment did not resolve itself thus? What if the enchantress prevailed and what if she did not die, but rather lived eternally?\"\n\nGillian's provocative query provoked a plaintive storm from his other companions, but when Islena opened her mouth to add her voice to the strident protest, it abruptly closed with an audible snap and her expression became distant and speculative.\n\nIn the posing of that single casual and contentious question, Islena beheld the first intimation of an alternative route forward...a way to possibly short circuit this malign engine that had wrought such inestimable grief and suffering over the course of history. Gillian's question struck directly to the heart of her seemingly untenable predicament and just when it seemed that an answer would present itself in a stellar burst of illumination...a titanic rumble seemed to shake the very world, pitching Islena to her back in a sprawl of limbs.\n\nDoraux valiantly attempted to scramble to her feet, but the fulminating upheaval tossed her about like gambler's dice. Islena cried out in fear and confusion, but in the next instant, she found herself being hefted into the air as Sormias plucked her effortlessly from the quaking earth. She peered down in helpless horror as the four remaining members were pitched violently back and forth. She watched miserably as Lorio curled into a tight ball to protect her unborn child.\n\n\"Sormias, drop me into the water and get Lorio off the ground,\" she bellowed above the tumult. As her gaze swept along the crest of the slope, towering trees were uprooted and toppled onto the strand. One missed the huddled Lorio by a few feet and Islena cried out in distress. \"Do it Sormias...God damn you, now!\"\n\nTorn by ambivalence, Sormias pivoted gracefully on a current of air and slashed out over the water. Before he could drop Islena into the roiling surf, the pandemonium ceased and an eerie silence descended upon the shore. Islena gestured for the Golgar to bring her to ground next to an ashen faced Lorio, who sprang nimbly to her feet despite her burden.\n\n\"Was...was that a natural occurrence?\" Arminda wondered in a tremulous, wary voice.\n\n\"In the years I've been exiled here, I've experienced nothing of its kind,\" Artumas informed the others, confirming what all suspected...this massive upheaval had not been a natural aberration.\n\n\"Whatever the cause, I think we can all agree that it does not bode well for us,\" Islena remarked, seeing signs of devastation that stretched out from north to south in both directions. Her strong jaw tightened at the spectacle of heart-wrenching devastation. Despite the torment that Doraux had endured during the course of her journey, she had come to develop a type of grudging admiration for the Land of Shades. Where once she had regarded it as a demesne of evil, she had come to subscribe to the opinion that the instruments and inhabitants that dwelled here were simply the land's natural wards against the world's greatest predator...man.\n\n\"I think that what's happened may well have curtailed our options. I doubt very much that we can venture back into the forest. If what I suspect is true, there will be dire repercussions that we lack the means to face. Heading south may mean running directly into the embrace of Myrhia's waiting army. That leaves north and Otaru Ree's realm,\" Islena declared, abruptly reversing her decision to allow consensus decide how they should proceed.\n\n\"Then one of us will serve the role as sacrificial lamb,\" Lorio remarked darkly.\n\n\"Not if I can help it!\" Doraux growled, displaying a tenacious determination she did not feel.\n\nAs she'd anticipated, no one raised the slightest objection. As they gathered their meager possessions and resumed the march north, Islena could not help but wonder if her companions had simply resigned themselves to the inexorable pull of her destiny.\n\nTo deflect her turbulent thoughts, she turned her consideration to Gillian's last query. 'What if the enchantress prevailed and what if she did not die, but rather lived eternally?'\n\nThis mortifying notion evoked a grimace of revulsion that twisted Islena's face and she redoubled her effort to seek a solution to the mystery of her multiplicity and its inherent purpose. Little did she know that the solution would be forthcoming from the most improbable source imaginable?\n\n3\n\nThe woman over whom Islena cogitated now stood on the upper extreme of the escarpment, stoic and inscrutable as she watched her army file slowly up the four league long swath that her sorcery had carved into the once vertical face. She could sense Adriatus and Baldasoran, the two nominal commanders of her mortal military, hovering in the vicinity like quivering shadows, but she continued to deliberately ignore them.\n\n' _If they required a confirmation that you are still the single most powerful force on this planet...you have delivered it to them on this day...in thunderously emphatic terms,'_ she thought with smug satisfaction as she surveyed the leagues of pulverized and smoldering forest that stretched in every direction. If the Land of Shades was a living entity of sentient purpose, she had dealt it a crippling blow from which it would not soon recover. She would face no further impediments here.\n\nEarlier this morning, Myrhia had ordered her armies to withdraw to a point several leagues to the east and witness her monumental act of desecration.\n\n\"Now Adriatus...bear witness to how I deal with those who would stand to impede my path,\" she had instructed her High Commander as he retreated to safety.\n\nAs thousands of anxious eyes watched expectantly, Myrhia slowly approached the dizzying vertical face. She could sense the guardian spiders stirring in their cocoons like slavering hounds catching the scent of fresh blood. Immolation would soon be their recompense for their mindless desire to serve their ancient purpose.\n\nPrimly crossing her right foot in front of her left, the raven-haired beauty allowed her head to loll back on the delicate stalk of her neck. She closed her eyes and slowly raised her arms, letting her wrists hang limply.\n\nFor a protracted moment, nothing happened and the silence stretched painfully forth.\n\n\"Are we supposed to be impressed by this theatrical posturing,\" Baldasoran snapped at Adriatus' shoulder while nervously eyeing the gray bulbs that littered the face in numbers beyond counting. Those bulbs had begun to expand and contract, reminding the mercenary of a blacksmith's bellows.\n\nAdriatus, who could feel the pure puissance coalescing around him...making his skin prickle as it gathered...ignored the Redian mercenary. Though the queen terrified him beyond the ability of words to express, he could not help but experience a visceral thrill of awe as she prepared to unleash her fury.\n\nSlowly, Myrhia began to rise, floating unhurriedly upward like a tethered balloon. From her High Commander's perspective, Adriatus could clearly discern a thickening of the very air around the enchantress as she siphoned arcane energy from the fabric of the world. At last, the hovering enchantress was fully enveloped by a translucent ball of pure energy. That gathered energy began to spin, rotating around the enchantress like a gyre...its frenetic motion accompanied by a high-pitched whine that cut the air like a scythe.\n\nAgainst this ear-shattering cacophony there arose intense cries of horror and panic, as waves of hideous spiders began to emerge from their cocoons.\n\nAbruptly, an argent bolt of lightening leapt from the face of the gyre and arced across the open air, incinerating one of the scrabbling horrors. Shortly after, the air was ablaze with a perpetual volley of blinding silver lightening that struck down the ranks of advancing spiders with uncanny accuracy...each deadly bolt leaping from one monstrosity to the next in an ever-expanding fan.\n\nThe air grew heavy with the cloying stench of fiery death as Myrhia's wave of destructive fury radiated outward like a tidal wave running rampant. Adriatus watched through glazed eyes as the Morticants advanced to engage the few guardian spiders that managed to escape the argent web.\n\nImpervious to poison or snapping mandibles, the Morticants literally tore the mewling creatures into twitching pieces and soon the luminous blue creatures were covered in a thick coating of ebony gore.\n\nWatching Myrhia's tide of immolation spread over the vertical face from northern to southern horizon, Adriatus was reminded of a massive, ever growing spider web. The irony of the metaphor evoked a cackle of lunatic laughter from the High Commander.\n\nThat mad laughter quickly curdled into cries of terror when the ground beneath the horse's hooves began to convulse. In the next moment, Myrhia's frenetic assault turned from the last of the guardian spiders to the Land of Shades itself.\n\nTowering trees suddenly burst into vertical columns of writhing flame, before quickly crumbling to ash. A symphony of terrified cries and moans served as a counter point to the frenzy of destruction as both animal and man brayed their atavistic dread.\n\nFocused volleys of argent lightening began to hammer a section of vertical face in concentrated bursts, targeting an area some three leagues wide.\n\nThese coruscating blasts of energy gouged huge divots in the formerly smooth face, raising a cloud of black dust that quickly occluded the sky.\n\n' _How can she possibly sustain this outpouring without being completely consumed?'_ Adriatus wondered in utter astonishment. Yet her assault continued unabated until the Emercian feared that it would tear the entire world asunder.\n\nAfter what seemed like an eternity, the cataclysmic upheaval suddenly ceased. The gyre vanished in the span of a breath and Myrhia slowly floated to the earth. She walked back to the huddling mass of troops, her exquisite face set in the ghost of a smile. To the High Commander's amazement, nothing in either her expression or posture suggested the slightest hint of weariness as if this unimaginable expenditure of energy had been but a trifle.\n\n\"You may now begin to move the army to the upper lands,\" she informed a befuddled Adriatus. Turning toward the curtain of lingering smoke that currently obscured the rock face, the enchantress swept her right arm from north to south. In response, a howling wind tore along the face, reducing the black cloud to tatters and revealing a smooth and easily negotiable slope that would provide suitable and easy access to the upper lands.\n\nNow, as the conventional army wound its way past, Myrhia prepared herself for what could well be the most important dialogue in her long and tragic history...a rapprochement with her estranged daughter.\n\nChapter Thirty\n\n1\n\n\"I'm sorry that I abused and degraded you, Muragren.\" The Fairmarch slave jumped, startled out of her half doze by Ynathreen's sudden quiet utterance...her first since Cauldanys' departure. The girl was regarding her with a solemn expression. \"I promise that I will never refer to you as a slave again...nor will I lift a hand against you. On my father's name, I will honor the vow I made to you before...before the mine collapsed.\"\n\nShe fell silent, her head bowed and her shoulders hunched in a manner that hinted at shame. \"You may have saved me tonight, Muragren Eb Tamen and thus I owe you a debt of gratitude that I will never forget...regardless of what the future might choose to bestow upon me.\"\n\nMuragren pushed herself erect and added another handful of twigs to the fire, before crossing over to kneel at the girl's side. Placing her right hand lightly on Ynathreen's right ankle, she inquired softly, \"Could you truly have done to Cauldanys the things you threatened?\"\n\nYnathreen raised her head and the torment in her expression caused the older woman to flinch. \"Yes,\" she declared in a voice that was flat and unequivocal. \"Had you not been here to intervene, I would have committed an atrocity that would have condemned me as a monster for eternity. As you so astutely observed...there can be no absolution for some acts of evil.\"\n\nMuragren squeezed the girl's diamond hard calve. \"Still, you did not. Instead, you opened yourself to the voice of humanity and compassion.\"\n\nYnathreen shook her head and her eyes glistened wetly as she shuddered, refusing to exonerate herself for her intentions. \"Oh, but I wanted to, Muragren...so intensely that I could actually feel the heat of her blood on my bare flesh as I cut her...the anticipation made my pulse race.\" The recollection caused her to shake her head...partly in dismay and partly in condemnation. \"I will not lie to you and claim that this blood lust was inspired entirely by my father's death, though the very thought of the black irony of his end makes me want to drag the eyes from my head. The blood lust comes from a twisted core that resides in the deepest recesses of my heart. I can feel it smoldering there, Muragren, like flaming embers that require only the shallowest pretext to explode into a raging pyre of ugly violence and cruelty. I suspect that these bestial urges are entwined in the soul of every Redian. Ghordrian recognized this inherent blight. It was a foul weed that he wished to extirpate from the nation's soul.\"\n\nShe paused glumly and savagely dragged the heel of her hand across her tear-stained eyes. \"With one mindless act of ugly violence, I would have buried his aspirations...just as surely as he is entombed in that accursed mine.\"\n\n\"But you did not, Ynathreen!\" Muragren reiterated with more conviction. \"You are a daughter whose beloved father has been stolen from her by a cruelly unfair act of violence. Your first inclination to respond in kind is only natural. Don't grant this particular demon more efficacy than it actually has. Even if your intentions were driven by some pervasive flaw in your nature...you overcame that flaw and demonstrated your capacity for mercy and reason.\"\n\nYnathreen sighed disconsolately and averted her eyes to the cold stone floor, but Muragren assertively gripped her chin and raised her head. \"When Cauldanys was helpless and at your mercy, you came to see her as more than a reviled enemy, but a frightened human being. She claimed that your act of mercy changed her heart and I do not believe that she played you false. This is an invaluable lesson this night's experience has imparted, Ynathreen...a simple act of kindness can shatter the most trenchant of prejudices. It is the one critical lesson Ghordrian wished for you to learn...and you have learned it, Ynathreen. Let it serve as the foundation for everything that follows.\"\n\nAs the flickering light played gently over the Redian's pretty face, she blushed...an expression that made her seem like the young girl harsh reality would never grant her the opportunity to be. She shook her head ruefully and that glimpse of the young girl was gone, replaced by a portrait of grim resolve of a woman who aspired to be a queen. \"I can't grant you freedom, Muragren...my instinct told me as much from the first instant I peered into your lovely gray eyes. Nor can I tell you that yours will be an easy road...especially in the months to come. The day will come when I will be the queen of Redia and you will never know want or disrespect again. If I'm to have any chance of leading Redia along the path to my father's vision...I will require your eternal vigilance in helping to keep my darker compulsions in their cage. For that purpose alone, I must bind you to my side.\"\n\n\"In my past life, I was blessed with the opportunity to help the youth of Fairmarch realize their potential. In you, Ynathreen, I have the rare blessing of helping to shape an exceptional mind that could very well alter the course of history. I will find all the contentment I require in that task.\" Muragren intoned quietly. On impulse, Ynathreen drew the startled older woman into a tight embrace, shocked and sadden by how frail Muragren felt in her arms.\n\nFinally, she released her mentor and her eyes narrowed in concern when the smaller woman shuddered violently as a cold wind suddenly gusted through the cave's interior. Turning the smaller woman about, she pulled Muragren against her, before folding the flaps of her heavy cloak over the trembling woman. She then wrapped her long arms around the older woman's thin chest and encircled her tiny waist with her powerful thighs, drawing her closer yet.\n\n\"Sleep and I will keep you warm,\" she whispered and unsettled the slave by actually bestowing a kiss on the top of her head before drawing up the hood of Ghordrian's cloak. These gestures of stunning tenderness disconcerted Muragren in ways she could scarcely begin to comprehend...having known only brutality and cold indifference for the past seven years.\n\n2\n\n\"You can't possibly be serious?\" Maroc demanded with a bewildered shake of his head. Sygeanor's smiling visage was a living portrait of smug condescension.\n\n\"I couldn't be more serious, Maxim Tier Marshall,\" she replied. \"That repository of clay has the potential to change the course of this conflict...a prospect I refuse to ignore. I intend to take the initiative away from the enchantress and capitalize on our good fortune.\"\n\n\"You are proposing that we move a force of eight hundred troops and support wagons down the length of an entire continent and conduct a raid on the most populated and heavily fortified city on the entire continent!\"\n\n\"Have we not already crossed an entire continent to reach this specific location, Maxim Tier Marshall?\" Sygeanor inquired with just the slightest hint of guile in her infuriatingly innocent tone.\n\nFor a moment, Maroc did not respond...regarding the contentious half-Ulgak as if she was being deliberately obtuse. Patiently, he explained, \"What we have achieved to this juncture is cross a sparsely inhabited area that had only cursory security. Reaching Nalosan will be infinitely more difficult...especially for a force of this size.\"\n\n\"Which is precisely why I will no longer require a force of this size, Maxim Tier Marshall,\" Sygeanor retorted as her maddening grin broadened.\n\nMaroc stiffened, only now grasping the direction of the Ulgak's intentions. The set of her jaw and the intractable glint in her gray eyes, made it apparent that all debate would be futile. She was functioning in the thrall of an agenda that was immune to logic or rational dialogue. Along with this disquieting realization, there came the confounding understanding that there was virtually nothing he could do to impose his will upon Sygeanor. The query came to his lips...a distant thing muted by the haze of bitter disillusionment. If Maroc required further proof that the days of Jerhia preeminence were at an end...this sorry moment of impotence had provided it. \"Obviously, you've formulated a specific plan?\"\n\nSygeanor's blazing smile declared that her triumph had been obtained far easier than she had anticipated...which only served to exacerbate Maroc's humiliation. \"Specifically, my plan has three objectives. We will move south with all possible stealth and speed. Along the way, we will intercept and destroy a transport caravan, securing a quantity of clay in the process. I understand that this poses a considerable risk, but it is a crucial gamble I'm prepared to take. I must experiment with the clay to fully explore and exploit its potential as an arcane amplifier. Once I've established the efficacy of the clay, I will be prepared to move on Nalosan.\"\n\n\"If nothing else, you certainly do not lack for audacity or ambition, Sygeanor,\" Maroc remarked dryly as his eyes crawled over the topographer's map of the eastern coastal countries. \"Fort Rast and Fort Theyr will likely be fully quartered and there is a cordon of outposts at tightly spaced intervals between them. Fairmarch and Northern Emercia are certain to be awash with conventional troops and Morticants. What you are proposing is akin to suicide.\"\n\nSygeanor pursed her lips, clearly perturbed by his pessimism. \"Even suicide is preferable to lingering like cowering bugs, quailing in anticipation of the boot fall. I have merely accepted the harsh and implacable reality that you and the other misnamed leaders of the pathetic resistance lack the courage to accept. Islena Doraux is hopelessly lost deep in the Land of Shades. Worse still, she is under the influence of the virulence that could ultimately render her more dangerous than Myrhia, who is at least lucid. If you obstinately cling to the hope of the salvation she offers...then salvation is forfeit and we are doomed.\"\n\n\"And you fashion yourself an alternative solution, Sygeanor?\" Kevlan inquired with a disdainful sneer of which Maroc would not have thought the Metocan capable.\n\nTo Maroc's surprise, Sygeanor did not react with a belligerent tirade. Instead, she declared flatly, \"Yes! Even Inos has admitted that I am possessed with telepathic abilities that are unprecedented. I have been equally candid in conceding that my abilities are woefully inadequate to the task of providing serious opposition to Myrhia.\" She abruptly slammed the flat of her palm down on the table, causing the assembly to flinch. \"This miraculous clay will mitigate that disparity...if not efface it entirely!\"\n\nThe room fell into a brooding silence that Sygeanor interpreted as a willingness to listen, if not be openly receptive to her proposal. \"I see no other path forward...other than absolute capitulation, which I would rather die than accept.\"\n\n\"And should I elect not to allow my troops to be conscripted into this mad adventure?\" Maroc asked quietly.\n\n\"Then I will go alone,\" she replied without hesitation. \"Should I perish and should our great savior, Islena Doraux, amount to nothing more than smoke and mirrors, you, Maxim Tier Marshall, will bear the burden of our obliteration.\"\n\nMaroc stole a quick glance at his staff, all of whom concealed their thoughts behind a mask of the Jerhia's well-practiced inscrutability. Sensing that she was being absolutely sincere in her intent to proceed alone should he decline to provide troops, the voice of ruthless expedience whispered in his ear, _'Let her undertake this grandiose quest alone...certain death in the form of mad delusion. The world will be better served should she meet an untimely end.'_\n\nAs tempting as this advice was, Maroc instead deferred to another voice which hinted that she might remain his beleaguered world's only hope for deliverance.\n\nYears later, Maroc would have occasion to reflect that what he had believed was the voice of expedience may have, in fact, been the voice of prescience.\n\n\"Very well, Sygeanor...I will accede to your demand. At any rate...that bombastic display at the mine precludes any repetition of the stealth attack on other facilities. What do you require?\"\n\n\"A score of troops who are prolific in the art of shadow warfare. Maktir will remain with you, but his adepts will join me.\" Her gaze fell upon Tormal and became positively feral. \"All Emercians will remain with me. Your knowledge of the terrain and troop dispositions should prove invaluable and no Tormal...Emercian participation is not optional. Consider your participation a penance for Emercian crimes against humanity.\"\n\nTormal blanched in the face of her scathing castigation, but gave no objection...knowing full well that this creature had no capacity for compromise.\n\n\"If there are no further issues to discuss, then I suggest that we prepare to part ways in the morning,\" the half-Ulgak concluded, her curt tone conveying that her patience for dialogue had reached its limit.\n\n\"I will confer with my adjutant and select the appropriate troops, but I must warn you Sygeanor...selection for this mission will be strictly on a voluntary basis,\" Maroc cautioned.\n\nSygeanor shrugged elaborately as if the matter was of little consequence. \"As you would have it, Maxim Tier Marshall. The remainder of your force may skulk back to Othgol.\" She waved a dismissive hand back toward a bemused Kevlan and quipped, \"Be sure to take this trying gelding with you...his bleating grows tedious.\"\n\nNeither Kevlan nor Maroc rose to the bait and Sygeanor swept about with a flourish of robes and made to exit the hastily erected command tent. She paused at the door and cast a backward glance over her shoulder. \"When next you encounter noble Inos, remind him that I fully expect that he will be prepared to honor our agreement upon my return.\"\n\nWith this cryptic message delivered, a smiling Sygeanor pulled back the tent flap only to collide with a breathless Jerhia.\n\nThe Ulgak stumbled back, while the clearly exhausted Jerhia collapsed face first to the straw covered floor.\n\n3\n\nAll throughout Northern Fairmarch, citizens lined the dirt and cobbled roads as groups of Myrhia's inscrutable, inhuman Morticants marched past...all heading north like a silent and terrible tide. No one dared to approach the lumbering monstrosities, whose dreadful featureless faces betrayed nothing of their purpose.\n\nAlong the major routes, the terrible procession was joined by an escort of Emercian cavalry in an attempt to convey the impression that this concerted movement was a mundane and scripted event under Emercian control. In truth, this sudden mass migration of Myrhia's deadly engines was as frightening and perplexing to the Emercian military as it was to the citizens of occupied Fairmarch.\n\nWhen the Morticants reached the border highway, they dispersed along the military road that connected the hulking, impregnable fortifications of Fort Rast and Fort Theyr. There, they stood...spaced at fifty foot intervals and arrayed facing north. Unmoving and aloof, these sentinels resembled pieces of statuary that stood awaiting...something.\n\nThe exact nature of that something became the subject of heated debate at every ale house and inn in northern Fairmarch. Soon, their daunting, silent presence provoked a storm of dark conjecture that quickly assumed apocalyptic overtones.\n\n\"A horrifying evil has arisen in the mountains of Redia and is even now preparing to sweep Myrhia from the earth,\" went one particular version of the dread speculation.\n\n\"The one of prophecy has been born in a fountain of fire and will soon deliver judgment on the Godless world,\" mourned the zealots, who prepared to meet their deserved end for their perceived sins.\n\nWhile the rampant forecasts of impending doom swirled like the blustering winds of a fall gale, the Morticants stood...patiently waiting for a threat they would recognize when at last it appeared.\n\n4\n\n\"Enter!\" Inos called in a voice that was uncharacteristically brusque and caused him to frown in reaction to his curtness...a trait for which he normally had little tolerance.\n\nTokizar entered, her face set in an eternally horrified expression that had become her signature visage in the days since Myrhia's devastating attack on the Inner Circle.\n\n' _Ah by days, you mean weeks,'_ Inos reminded himself ruefully as time slipped by in its fleeting fashion. Of the fate of Islena Doraux or the Redian expedition, nothing was known. With every passing day, Inos could feel the last vestiges of hope draining away like sand through an hour glass.\n\nTokizar came to a halt before his writing desk and waited for the elder to grant her leave to speak...a deferential gesture that exasperated Inos to no end. \"How fares the work on the new palace?\"\n\nTokizar nodded and the thick cable of brown hair that hung over her left shoulder bobbed vigorously.\n\n\"The Jerhia troops and our adepts have succeeded in clearing the last of the rubble from the site. Shipments of quarried foundation stone have recently arrived and reconstruction of the palace should commence within the fortnight,\" she announced, clearly pleased by the rate of progress. As with most Metocans, Tokizar associated the rebuilding of the grand palace as a symbolic step toward normalcy.\n\nInos, who had lingering doubts about what he clearly perceived to be a cosmetic gesture, merely nodded distantly...much to Tokizar's obvious chagrin. Tentatively, she ventured, \"You seem preoccupied elder.\"\n\nInos nodded absently, unable to completely suppress the glum frown that tugged insistently at the corner of his thin lips. \"That is precisely the problem, Tokizar...I have absolutely nothing to occupy my time and so I keep busy with an endless stream of trivialities and tedium as a means of filling the empty hours. Beyond the fog shrouded city, events of epic consequence unfold while we fritter away the hours on mundane illusions of normalcy. If this was not vexing enough, we have no way of knowing how these momentous dramas are unfolding. To think that we three CornerStone Nations fancied ourselves to be the shapers of destiny...this may well be our reward for such insufferable hubris.\"\n\nIn the face of the elder's mordant pessimism, Tokizar could only grimace anxiously. Inos gleaned her profound dismay and waved it off with an impatient flick of his right hand. \"Pay no heed to my plaintive musings, Tokizar. This damnable waiting has darkened my mood. How fares the indoctrination of the new members of the Inner Circle?\"\n\n\"I believe they will be condign to the solemn duties of their new stations, elder. Jerrod is of the same mind and he has spent a considerable amount of time mentoring each. I would suggest that his efforts may warrant a special commendation,\" Tokizar suggested, to which Inos nodded, though he privately wondered if there was any value to be had in such token gestures of aggrandizement.\n\n\"Elder, there is another matter that has troubled me for some time and if you are so inclined, I would speak of it to you now,\" Tokizar suddenly blurted and though Inos was particularly disposed to broach the type of subject the capricious woman was likely to raise...he nonetheless nodded. Something in her demeanor suggested a festering anxiety that he could not ignore.\n\nThe temperamental Metocan hesitated for a protracted moment as though she was suddenly reluctant to give voice to her own concerns.\n\n\"Tokizar, you know that I am ever receptive to your insight...what is it that has roused your concern?\" Inos prompted gently.\n\n\"My disquiet not surprisingly, finds its origins in the matter of Islena Doraux's quest to locate Artumas,\" the Metocan began, clearly struggling to articulate her exact worries. \"I cannot help but think that in our haste to avert being deluged by Myrhia's swarming hordes we did not give proper thought to the long term ramifications of diverting the Hiberas.\"\n\n\"Then your misgivings are well founded because it is glaringly apparent that we did not,\" Inos agreed sourly. \"Given the dire circumstances in which we found ourselves...we were presented with no viable alternative.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Tokizar allowed, though her tone hinted at disagreement. \"Our stratagem made no allowance for Islena's eventual return. While that was an impetuous decision motivated by exigency, considerable time has passed and we have done nothing to address the conundrum it has created.\"\n\n\"Go on,\" Inos prompted, stroking his chin thoughtfully, sensing that his colleague was about to impart a truth of great importance...a truth that had been inexplicably ignored.\n\n\"We have done nothing toward devising a method of safely conveying Islena across the Hiberas, should she actually succeed and return,\" Tokizar observed, her eyes wide with exasperation as if she could hardly credit their stupidity.\n\n\"Perhaps given Sygeanor's revelation, it is because the chances of her return seem as negligible as to be non-existent,\" Inos offered, knowing that his response was facile and disingenuous even as it slid from his lips.\n\nTokizar's expression darkened at the mention of the half-Ulgak whom she regarded as a dark labyrinth. \"Inos, do you not see that we have become bleating sheep in a pen, lamenting over the injustice of our fate while doing nothing to change its course. We reconstructed crumbled relics, while subconsciously skirting around the decisions that the juncture in our path has laid before us.\"\n\n\"A juncture...and where exactly will you envision these paths will lead us?\" Inos inquired softly, rather startled by Tokizar's uncharacteristic vehemence. \"From my perspective, I don't discern a great many venues being open to us.\"\n\n\"There are two distinct paths we can follow, but indecision has reduced us to timidity and so we stubbornly refuse to tread on either. If we believe that Islena Doraux might yet succeed, then we must devote our every effort to diverting the Hiberas so that she may return to us.\"\n\n\"You may recall that it was Islena's ability to draw the power of the Jerhia Icon that facilitated the diversion in the first place,\" Inos pointed out, \"which unwittingly deprived us of the means of retrieving her in the process.\"\n\n\"That may not be entirely true. Islena's energy provided the catalyst for the reshaping of the terrain by Natzurdan magic. Though I am apprehensive of the girl, is it not entirely possible that Sygeanor's formidable arcane power could...at the very least...ford a temporary gap in the river, thus allowing Islena and the others to re-cross?\" The Metocan elder fell silent while Inos pondered her proposition.\n\n\"It would require that Islena had both the foresight and the opportunity to make her way to a point on the Hiberas that is adjacent to Metocan...and that we could anticipate the time and place of her coming to attempt this bridging.\"\n\nTokizar shook her head and her brow furrowed in consternation. \"Again Grand Mage, Sygeanor could have provided the means to achieve both and yet we have allowed her to wander off in pursuit of what is in all probability a fool's errand and probably fatal at that.\"\n\n\"It seems that you have grown disaffected with my leadership Tokizar,\" Inos suggested mildly.\n\nThe wistful Metocan recoiled in horror, shaking her head frantically. She held up her long-fingered hands, waving them in a frantic gesture of placation. \"It is not my intention to undermine your authority or intimate that you are incompetent, Inos. I have absolutely no doubt that your actions were well-intended. Hindsight is the perfect lens of augury and assigning blame is pointless...if not overtly detrimental. I have supported you unwaveringly and if I have given offense then I cry your pardon.\"\n\nInos sighed. \"I take no offense Tokizar because your claims are hardly without substance. Many of the decisions I've made have been ill-considered and rash. I take it you believe that we should recall Sygeanor from the east?\"\n\n\"Yes and with all possible haste.\" A flicker of apprehension stole across the Metocan's flat features then and she confessed. \"I will admit that the girl's cryptic presence fills me with an atavistic dread, but I also feel that she will be indispensable, irrespective of which path you elect to follow.\"\n\n\"And this second path, Tokizar...what future lies along it?\"\n\n\"We declare unequivocally that Islena is lost to us and eschew the ancient prophecy...knowing full well that prophecy is an imperfect art at best. Then we turn the cumulative sum of our resources on finding a way of destroying Myrhia's Morticants. Again, I would contest that this would require freeing Sygeanor from this pointless endeavor in which she has become embroiled. All of this is contingent upon her continued survival.\"\n\n\"So it would seem that all roads to the future lead through Sygeanor...an idea that is not without its disturbing implications,\" Inos remarked, evoking an intense shiver of unease from the statuesque Tokizar who feared that Sygeanor could become a dependency that Metocan would come to rue. He glanced at his long time friend and nodded resolutely. \"Very well, I will approach the Jerhia provisional commander and have him dispatch a small party to convey the message. His detachment can escort Sygeanor back with all possible haste...while the rest of the expedition returns at a more leisurely pace.\"\n\n\"A prudent choice elder,\" Tokizar remarked sincerely, though from any other lips it may have echoed with sardonic disdain.\n\n\"As to the two divergent paths before us...until the time of Sygeanor's return, I believe that we can safely plant a foot along both,\" Inos intoned to which Tokizar raised a quizzical eyebrow. Inos beamed a grin and went on to elaborate. \"Tokizar, you are to form two working conclaves, both of which will be composed of Natzurdan and Metocan authorities from each of the arcane schools. You will assign one of your tasks to the appropriate group. Their research will become our priority and you will see that the full resources of Metocan are at their disposal. I will speak to Mascius and he will gravitate between groups, providing guidance and direction to both.\"\n\nThe statuesque female bowed, her eyes twinkling at the prospect of being engaged with a meaningful purpose. \"Tokizar, make it eminently clear to the participants that this is not a theoretical exercise and we expect their efforts to yield results in short order.\"\n\nWhen his old friend had departed, Inos closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his aquiline nose. While Tokizar's astute and incisive criticism had reinvigorated the elder, it also left him feeling the constricting crush of chains that bound him ever tighter to the ominous Sygeanor.\n\nChapter Thirty One\n\n1\n\n\"Islena...Islena wake...it is high time that we speak.\" There was a mirthful, lilting quality to the voice that playfully tickled at the periphery of her sleeping consciousness.\n\nDoraux issued a guttural protest and pulled herself into a tight ball, wanting only to remain in the tranquil requiem of sleep, yet the maddeningly familiar voice did not relent, \"Come Islena...you and I must speak of grave matters...and the future.\"\n\nIn repose, Islena's brow furrowed as her red hair was gently pulled back from her ear and a tickling exhalation of breath blew into the exposed hollow. Realizing that this was a genuine tactile sensation from beyond the wall of sleep, Islena snapped awake with a soundless gasp. Her wide-eyed gaze swept over the circle of light cast by the dying embers to find that four shadows were arrayed about the fire. Sormias was not present, but the Golgar required no sleep and would often spend his nights indulging his passion for soaring beneath the gleam of the moon...which was always full in this wondrous place. She shook her head, feeling slightly disoriented as her gaze lifted skyward. The jeweled vault of the firmament was ablaze with stars and worlds beyond counting...informing Islena that dawn was still hours off.\n\n\"Come Islena...I'm waiting,\" the seductive voice called, whispering through the corridors of her sleep addled mind with an oddly beguiling sibilance. Recognition filtered through the waning fog and Islena snapped to full attention, her wide eyes fastening on a silhouette that stood on the strand where the golden sand relented to grass. Emeralds winked from the intaglio that adorned the ebony breast plate, drawing a guttural snarl from Doraux, who could feel a towering rage growing in the core of her being.\n\n\"Make the slightest sound and I will obliterate your companions where they lay,\" the enchantress cautioned in a deceptively blithe voice. \"Come Islena, this need not be an adversarial exchange. I mean you no harm. I wish only to hold a reasonable dialogue and lay all things bare between us.\"\n\nWithout further word, the enchantress turned and floated into the trees with emerald effulgence trailing after her diaphanous specter. Islena cast an uncertain glance at the others, torn between prudence and the compulsion to confront her avowed enemy.\n\nRising on trembling legs and ignoring both Guinevere and Agraria's entreaties for caution, Islena carefully made her way out of the circle of light. Drawing a deep breath to gather her equilibrium, Doraux started out after the enchantress.\n\n2\n\nDoraux found her ancient adversary standing with her back to Islena on the opposite side of a small, roughly circular clearing. The need to attack...to flail and excoriate...was virtually irrepressible, but Islena retained enough presence of mind to understand that her outburst would serve no purpose. Fighting the compulsion, she willed herself to remain stationary and composed.\n\nAt last Myrhia inquired without turning, \"Do you have any idea what I am, Islena? Please spare me the vapid obscenity that begs to leap from your lips.\"\n\n\"Where is my son?\" Islena rasped in a voice coarsened by primal fury.\n\n\"Somewhere that he cannot be harmed,\" Myrhia assured Doraux. \"You must understand...the soul forge that I have entered into with Allan will preclude him from coming to any harm...at least at my hands.\"\n\nIslena's face contracted into a mask of revulsion, sickened by the sound of her beautiful son's name passing Myrhia's despicable lips. The enchantress gleaned Islena's aversion and interpreted it perfectly. \"How galling that must be for you Islena...knowing that I tucked Allan in at nights...read him his favorite stories and indulged in his favorite past times? It must be worse than the thought of how I took your husband in your own bed. How it must gall you knowing that your son came to regard me as his new mother.\"\n\nThis last cruel barb occluded Doraux's logic with a mounting black rage. Bellowing, she charged the ephemeral projection with a livid snarl. Myrhia tilted her head slightly to the right and fetched an elaborate sigh, but as Islena passed through the space her projection occupied, she pivoted swiftly and placed the index and middle fingers of her small right hand on Islena's lower spinal column. An electric sensation flared through the synapses of Islena's muscular body and she found herself laying face down in the grass. To her horror, Doraux quickly discovered that she had been rendered incapable of movement below her neck.\n\nMyrhia floated down to stand beside the paralyzed Doraux. \"I'm sorry Islena...that was a needlessly provocative remark and I don't want this parlay to degenerate into a petty exchange of vapid barbs. This is a time for frank and meaningful discourse about the discord that lingers between us.\"\n\nA brisk wave of the enchantress' hand and Islena found herself rolling like a log down a rapidly flowing river...finally coming to rest flat on her back. She gazed up to find Myrhia's beautiful countenance filling her vision like the face of a deity.\n\n\"What have you done to me?\" Islena demanded and though she attempted to affect a defiant tone, a note of trepidation echoed clearly in her words.\n\n\"A simple cantrip with no lasting or harmful effects. You still fail to grasp the salient truth...I have no desire to harm you, Islena. There are no words to sufficiently articulate how infinitely precious you are to me,\" Myrhia intoned solemnly...her dark eyes glittering with a complex array of emotions. She raised her right arm and pointed to something that was recessed deep in the brooding shadows of the surrounding forest.\n\nIslena followed the pointing finger, but for a moment failed to discern what the enchantress intended for her to see. As she squinted into the inky darkness, muted golden effulgence appeared to rise out of the forest floor.\n\nDoraux gasped and then groaned in unadulterated misery in response to what was revealed. Sormias...or more correctly, a very naked human incarnation of Sormias...hung suspended from a stout branch of a deciduous tree. His outstretched arms and torso were bound to the tree by hoops of argent energy. The long, coal black curls obscured the Golgar's handsome face, but Islena recognized the beautiful male who had made love to her so fervently in the wake of her purification.\n\n\"Is he...dead?\" Islena heard herself inquire...dreading the answer.\n\n\"No,\" Myrhia disclosed gravely. \"He is merely under the thrall of a sorcery similar to the one that now binds you...though vastly more efficacious.\" Conveyed on an unseen current, Myrhia drifted over to the unconscious Golgar, floating in the night sky like a shade. \"I plucked this pleasing visage from the Golgar's thoughts Islena. He is quite smitten with you.\"\n\nPlacing her index finger beneath the Golgar's chin, she raised his head and then inquired, \"Do you not recognize his exquisite face, Islena...or understand why the Golgar chose to extract this particular image from your memory...or more correctly...from Guinevere's memory?\"\n\nIslena's eyes widened in shock, but she quickly clamped a mask of inscrutability over the expression. \"I have no idea what you're talking about.\"\n\nMyrhia's index finger gently glided over Sormias' jaw line and his muscular body was abruptly gripped by a convulsive seizure that caused the Golgar to jerk and spasm violently.\n\n\"Stop!\" Islena wailed wretchedly, to which Myrhia immediately complied, though to Islena's horrified dismay, she saw that the rampant surge of electric current had left the Golgar's manhood in a state of full erection.\n\n\"I warn you not to be disingenuous Islena...you have no real aptitude for it and it insults my intelligence and tries my patience,\" Myrhia admonished darkly. Her shimmering image abruptly vanished and then she appeared next to Doraux, studying her with an intense gaze of appraisal. After a moment, she lifted a tapered eyebrow and remarked, \"You really don't recognize this paragon of manliness and chivalry, do you?\"\n\nIslena's perplexed frown drew a light peel of amused laughter from Myrhia. \"The virtuous and regal Guinevere was ever a masterful manipulator. When the fawning Golgar drew an image from your mind with which to plough your furrow, it was Guinevere who offered up her beloved knight...thus allowing her to vicariously live her past debauchery. How utterly delightful!\"\n\n\"You're saying this is...is Lancelot?\" a thoroughly astonished Doraux demanded, but Guinevere's continuing silence confirmed Myrhia's allegation.\n\n\"Indeed...the trusted knight who made Arthur a cuckold with the noble Guinevere,\" Myrhia confirmed blithely, \"an engrained characteristic I'd say, considering that you've done precisely the same thing to that pathetic gelding you called a husband...not once, but twice. So you see, Islena...I'm fully aware of your journey of self-discovery and I will extend a benevolent word of advice...be wary of these past incarnations. They will muddle your perception and subtly bend you to their agenda should you afford them the opportunity. Now that we've dispensed with the needless distractions and fabrications...let me again pose my original question...what is it that you think I am?\"\n\nDoraux bit back on an acerbic rejoinder that quivered on the tip of her tongue and turned her thoughts to a serious contemplation of the question. Her brow furrowed in vexation and she confessed, \"Other than a monster behind the guise of living beauty...I have no idea.\"\n\nMyrhia smiled and nodded as though privately pleased by Islena's reply. \"Now that the obscuring fog of mediocrity has partially lifted...what is it you think you are?\"\n\nThat perplexity deepened and Agraria admonished, _'Be wary Islena...this spider will ensnare you in a cleverly woven web of half truths.'_\n\nAgain, Islena was forced to allow that she had no genuine understanding of her nature...beyond its multiplicity.\n\n\"Though you are disinclined to listen, I will shed an illuminating light on the dark shadows that you have cast to shield yourself from an unpalatable revelation,\" Myrhia declared soberly. \"I will forewarn you...when the last of these shadows has been swept away to reveal the brutal reality of your existence, all that awaits you is the embrace of bitter despair. It is entirely possible that the unrelenting bleakness of your sterile existence may compel you to seek sanctuary in madness. Do you have the courage to confront your true identity without the protective mantle of delusion or bias, daughter?\"\n\nIslena scowled at her tormentor. Glancing along her frozen torso, she grumbled, \"Seeing that I'm a captive audience, it's not like I have a choice in the matter. What's more, it's not liked I'd actually believe a word that slid from your fucking mouth anyway.\"\n\nMyrhia grimaced. \"This penchant for ugly vulgarity is a new and unattractive aspect of your evolving nature. Let us see if you can cling to your obstinate denial when the mirror of introspection has been held up to the ugly soul that resides within this glorious vessel.\"\n\nDoraux gritted her teeth and glowered balefully at the enchantress, yet internally she could feel her organs and viscera begin to vibrate as if in response to a rapidly gathering energy. She could hear the discordant braying of her innumerable past personas as they cowered at the prospect of this great revelation that would forever alter Islena's perception of who and what she was.\n\n\"Though we have been known by many names throughout the annals of sundry parallel histories,\" Myrhia began, \"the three of us each bear only one name that matters. I am the Mother of Iniquity. The creature who now answers to the name of Artumas is the Champion of Light. You, my impertinent, combative beauty, have been appropriately dubbed the Daughter of the Tempest...daughter because you are the flamboyant and volatile spawn of my frenetic coupling with my avowed adversary...your father...the Champion of Light.\"\n\nIslena wanted to scream a vehement repudiation of Myrhia's preposterous disclosure, but abruptly all veils parted and the incontrovertible truth of that terrible moniker crashed down her like the fall of a sledgehammer.\n\nWith a resounding roar, Islena's identity...the foundation upon which she had constructed the façade of her everyday life...was thoroughly and irreparably decimated. Despite her determination to reveal nothing...to not expose the slightest weakness before this hateful monster...Islena began to weep bitter tears of abnegation.\n\nMyrhia knelt beside the distraught Doraux and an expression of pained commiseration took shape on her lovely face. \"The three of us constitute the equilateral sides of the eternal triangle of conflict and discord...a device whose only purpose seems to be the sowing of hatred and the fomenting of bloody conflict in the worlds of sentient beings. This triangle spins perpetually through the rivers of times...slipping randomly from one flow to the next...pausing briefly to inflict horrific, indelible scars on specific eras in time.\"\n\nIslena shook her head in refutation of this horrific concept, desperate to conjure an implacably logical argument that would invalidate this terrible portrait which Myrhia had constructed. \"You're implying that we were created solely as a catalyst for war and misery...what god would do such a hateful, malevolent thing?\"\n\nMyrhia sat back on her shapely haunches and clapped her hands in delight. \"My daughter...how is it that you are such an ingénue after so many lifetimes...so much debilitating disappointment and bitterness? There is no god, Islena...whatever universal force first set this tiresome process in motion has permanently departed...perhaps to sit back and indulge in a good laugh over the depraved jape it created.\"\n\nShe paused and allowed a bewildered Doraux a moment to absorb this detestable notion. When it became apparent that Islena could muster no logical contradiction, Myrhia continued, \"In the case of Artumas and me, we have been cast in molds that allow absolutely no latitude for flexibility...for volition. We are polar opposites...my darkness against his light. I have no recourse but to sow chaos and propagate shadow and poor, befuddled Artumas has no choice but to give my machinations opposition. We were conceived to stand eternally at cross purposes. Had it not been for a mitigating factor...the third side of the triangle...he and I would have spent eternity locked in perpetual conflict.\"\n\n\"And that is where I came in,\" Islena remarked sullenly.\n\n\"Ah, but you are a quick study, daughter!\" Myrhia remarked approvingly and though her tone was sardonic, her eyes beamed with unmistakable pride. \"You were born of the need for resolution...so that each chapter of our conflict would see a definitive, blood-soaked conclusion. Evidently, even fate was not so cruel as to see its creation mired in incessant violent struggle...and thus you were conceived to give these sorry worlds at temporary respite.\"\n\n\"Then I'm an after thought,\" Islena whispered, beginning to grasp Myrhia's prior reference to the awful sterility her revelation would expose.\n\n\"Sadly, yes,\" the enchantress confirmed. \"Yours is perhaps the most innately tragic fate because...of the three of us...you have been granted a small measure of volition...the prerogative to influence the outcome of this recurring nightmare...to one resolution or the other.\"\n\n\"Yet I always come down on the side of the Champion of Light,\" Doraux spat derisively, green eyes aflame with animosity.\n\n\"Invariably,\" Myrhia agreed as a brief, but intense flicker of sorrow contorted her features, \"but before you engage in self-congratulatory theatrics, I would recommend that you closely examine what this collusion has ultimately achieved. To engage in that particular undertaking, you must first indulge in one further exercise in self-analysis. You are the Daughter of the Tempest and that moniker is perfectly suited to your nature because your soul is a raging dichotomy. You are a creature of the darkness, possessed by an addictive proclivity toward the light. Therein dwells the intrinsic tragedy of who you are, Islena because even as you gravitate toward the light, the darkness in your essence still strives to undermine the champion. This is why, in every incarnation, it is your actions which have caused the greatest heartache and inflicted the deepest wounds. Search through the muck and mire of your past lives and you will find that I have not deceived you.\"\n\nLying helpless, limbs inured, Islena need only listen to the resounding silence in her mind to know that the enchantress had spoken the pure and unadulterated truth...in all of its terrible intransigence. A fierce groan of outrage and indignation tore from her lips and in its wake, Islena felt hollow...thoroughly eviscerated by a truth that no mortal was ever meant to confront. Not one of her incarnations had stirred to gainsay Myrhia, leaving her feeling abandon and alone to confront this grim reality and all it entailed.\n\nWith naked despair muting the light in her emerald eyes, Islena demanded, \"Why are you telling me this...what do you want from me?\"\n\n\"I want you to capitulate...to surrender to me utterly and without reservation. It's the only way to break this loathsome cycle...to achieve closure and stem the tide of bloodshed and suffering,\" Myrhia declared, displaying an uncharacteristic animation for the first time.\n\n\"Why would I ever agree to...to be a monster's lackey?\" Doraux snarled, seething with contempt.\n\n\"You vainglorious child, you still refuse to see the glaringly horrid reality that capers before your very eyes. You see me as a creature of willful evil...a deliberate miscreant who wallows in malice of her own accord. I can no more rebel against my nature than a spider or snake could restrain their inculcated need to bite.\"\n\nIslena stubbornly averted her gaze, but Myrhia dug her delicate, intangible fingers into Doraux's cheeks and forced her to meet the enchantress' scorching regard. \"If you still question my veracity, consider this...I know that you are destined to be my bane and yet I drew you into this world...not because I believed that I possessed the leverage to bend you to my will. I know what you are, Islena and in the end, the life of a child...even one born of your own flesh...will not deter your ravenous hunger to see me dead at your feet. Despite this inevitability, I drew you here because my nature would not allow me to do otherwise.\"\n\nIslena peered up into Myrhia' impassioned face, a speculative gleam dawning in her green eyes. \"I still see no inducement that would make me agree to be your obsequious lap dog.\"\n\n\"The only way to end this wretched cycle of mindless conflict comes with my triumph. If you again pander to the light...whore yourself to its champion...you will manage to destroy me and in time, both of you will die and all of this will begin afresh. You are the catalyst, Islena,\" Myrhia insisted vehemently. \"Your actions and decisions can perpetuate this conflict...or bring it to an end. Do you not grasp this rudimentary truth...only if you and I live eternally will this timeless tragedy's denouement be written.\"\n\n\"Why the both of us...why not me alone? It's said that when I attain this moment of ascension...I will essentially become a goddess. Why would I not simply obliterate you and assume that role. After all that I've endured, it would seem to be a fitting recompense.\" Islena retorted coyly. She was only partially aware of the manipulative shadow that slid through the dark corners of her subconscious.\n\nMyrhia recoiled as if struck, her features twisting into a grotesque mask of apprehension. In a voice fraught with horror, she breathed, \"That must never come to pass. Your conflicted nature would cause you to oscillate wildly between two extremes and your unfettered power would inevitably spiral out of control. Unbridle and free of a stabilizing influence, you would run rampant through every reality...reducing each to tinder and ash. Again, you need only look into the twisted labyrinth of your soul to know that I speak the unembellished truth.\"\n\nIslena glowered and glanced away, her expression becoming obdurate and inscrutable. Myrhia gesticulated and an ornate collar and leash appeared in her hand. The bracelet and collar had been fashioned in gold and silver. To each was affixed a replica of Myrhia's intaglio, while the long leash was comprised of articulating obsidian segments which were also inlaid with emeralds. Islena's wide eyes fastened on the leash and collar and her face twisted into a bitter grimace of indignation. \"If you think I'm ever going to wear that, you're completely fucking delusional!\"\n\nMyrhia responded with an infuriating grin. \"Yet it is precisely what I expect, Islena and after you've divorced yourself from this vapid animosity, you will come to see that this willing submission is the only path forward. Listen carefully and then reflect on my offer. You will return to the others and lead them to the mad creature that now holds the Icon. Once the Dragonsword is again yours, you will return to the western shore, where you will kneel, naked and abeyant with this collar and leash around your neck...awaiting my arrival. When I come into your presence, you will prostrate yourself on the sand before me, kiss my foot and swear eternal fealty to me. I will parade you through the streets of Othgol, where you will again swear your subservience to me before Inos and those who would rebel against me. The sight of their savior's abject surrender will extinguish the last spark of their futile resistance. This will serve two distinct purposes...it will leave us free to seek out the two remaining proclamations and spare me the tedious effort of having to exterminate the last of the Cornerstone Nations.\"\n\n\"Then I strongly recommend that you kill me here and now and spare yourself a great deal of grief, bitch. I would never humiliate myself before you,\" Doraux growled, her recalcitrant glare flaring like an exploding sun.\n\n\"Could your abjection be any greater than allowing yourself to be whipped bloody by a mentally enfeebled misogynist? Incidentally, I have redressed that insufferable injustice...with extreme prejudice,\" Myrhia informed Islena and the magnitude of the malicious gleam in Myrhia's dark eyes declared eloquently that her justice had been ineffably brutal.\n\nIslena's eyes widened at this cryptic, but sinister disclosure. Myrhia deliberately elected not to elaborate. Instead, the enchantress sighed ruefully and admitted, \"Don't be deliberately obtuse, Islena. I can't kill you, just as the Jerhia collective will not allow you the craven comfort of self-immolation. I can torture you to the edge of madness or more effective still, force you to bear witness while I torture and kill your family and companions...but my nature...my inherent need to see my machinations to fruition will not allow me to kill you, daughter. I can tell you...unequivocally...that if you do not accede to my demands, we are heading toward an end the horror of which will pale all that has come before this. You and I have been endowed with powers the magnitude of which is unprecedented. If we go forward to resolve this conflict as we always have, our final cataclysmic battle will fill this woe-ridden world with fire and death. I must serve my inexorable purpose...even though it will be my destruction.\"\n\nShe hesitated and Doraux could glean that her candor was both sincere and expensive. There was a doleful and beseeching ring in Myrhia's subdued voice as she concluded, \"You, daughter, are not bound by the same constraints and you alone possess the wherewithal to forestall the impending cataclysm and prevent its recurrence from this day forth.\"\n\nAs Islena watched the hovering apparition, Myrhia's image appeared to gutter as if her soul-baring had left her enervated and oddly diminished. \"Our discourse is done and I will leave you to reflect upon all I have imparted here.\"\n\nWith an intricate flourish of her delicate right hand, the enchantress removed Doraux's arcane binding. Sensation flowed back into Islena's powerful body, accompanied by an electric prickling that was decidedly unpleasant. Doraux sat up and began to massage life back into her quivering thighs and calves. Without looking directly at her tormentor, she suddenly declared, \"If I was to agree to abase myself and be your subservient...there would be non-negotiable terms that I would expect honored in return.\"\n\nMyrhia drifted closer and dropped the ornate collar and leash in Islena's lap. Though the enchantress attempted to maintain a mask of neutrality, she did not entirely succeed in repressing the complex blend of suspicion and expectant excitement that glowed in her dark eyes. \"I would hear your terms daughter.\"\n\nIslena collected the leash and collar and rose to her feet, draping the device of submission around her neck. She came to stand directly in front of Myrhia and peering into the timeless, exquisite face, growled, \"This does not mean that I submit to you...the impetuous side of my nature...the tempest...may still compel me to open your throat and drink your blood even as the world goes up in flames around us. If, however, I decide that this has not been another exercise in self-serving, facile bullshit and agree to your subjection, there are conditions you will meet. You will end this war and withdraw your armies...including your Morticants...back within the borders of Emercia. You will abdicate the throne and return it to Artumas. You will not harm my companions. Artumas in particular will be allowed to live out the remainder of his days in peace. You will return Allan to my husband and vow never to go near my family again. You will also reverse the soul forge with my son. In exchange...when we return to Emercia...prior to my ascension or whatever the hell the culmination of this process turns out to be...I will submit to a soul forge with you. Whatever I may become, it will insure that I never turn my newfound powers on you. When that is done, you and I will leave this world...and never return or harm it...or my own...again. I will be your complaisant puppet on a string. If I decide to submit...these are my terms and they are absolutely inflexible.\"\n\nFor a protracted moment, the enchantress did not respond, but continued to regard Islena with an incisive gaze of appraisal. Finally, her tone subdued, Myrhia allowed, \"Perhaps you are not such an ingénue after all daughter. If you elect to accede to my demands then...as an egalitarian gesture of a mother to a beloved daughter...I will meet your terms and we will have forged an unprecedented accord. In three days hence, my armies will reach the coast and I expect that you will be awaiting my arrival...in precisely the posture I've demanded. If you do not, then my offer is rescinded and this tragic drama will run its natural course. If by some miracle, I still find the means to persevere, I will grind every last vestige of your existence from memory.\"\n\nIslena laughed. \"Your threats and bluster are as hollow and devoid of meaning as your decrepit soul, Myrhia.\" Her gaze happened on the suspended Golgar and she rasped, \"Will you free Sormias?\"\n\nMyrhia turned her regard to the naked form, a moue of disgust playing at her full lips. \"These pests are a persistent nuisance and damnably hard to kill. My first inclination is to let him linger in this state for eternity, but as a gesture of my sincerity, I will return him to you. Even now, he seems ready to sate your base desires.\"\n\nThe restraining argent hoops vanished and the Golgar tumbled heavily to the grass, where he lay utterly still. Doraux bellowed a curse and rushed over to the fallen Golgar, while the enchantress shook her head in feigned consternation. \"Do not fret; these great insects are far from frangible. You would do well to divorce yourself from the artificial emotions that cloud your perception, daughter. These affections and infatuations that tug at your heart...are merely illusions. Emotions are the province of human beings. You and I are merely the living embodiment of a point of view. I would ask you one last thing...knowing that you will ascend with or without my hand to guide you, what is it you will become if left to your own devices?\"\n\nThe enchantress' image guttered and was gone, leaving her final query lingering in the night air like a disturbing vapor.\n\nSormias stirred and rolled onto his back with a low moan. His prominent erection had not wilted a whit and slight tremors continued to shake his heavy muscles. Suddenly overwhelmed by an exigent need to exert her essential humanity, Islena stripped off her clinging body suit and fell on the beautiful male with a throaty growl of primal lust. In the throes of her rampant passion, Islena was unaware that she still clutched Myrhia's collar and leash in her right hand.\n\nChapter Thirty Two\n\n1\n\n\"Artumas, Islena is gone!\" Those words, delivered in a frantic whisper that was close as Lorio could ever come to open panic, jolted the deposed king into a state of total awareness within the span of ten short heartbeats. He threw off his single blanket and sat up, blinking owlishly as his eyes adjusted to the predawn gloom.\n\nHis cramped muscles issued a strident protest as the immortal impatiently tugged him to his feet. A quick glance at the spot where Doraux had turned into sleep the evening prior, confirmed Lorio's fear. Thickly, he inquired, \"Where is Sormias?\"\n\nLorio grunted in disgust and muttered ruefully, \"As is oft the case, the bird-man is aloft and never at hand when he might actually serve some purpose. Arminda and Gillian have gone off toward the north following the strand, but I fear that they are apt to find nothing. A shadow has hovered over Islena of late...she has grown remote and inaccessible and I suspect it is not simply in response to this burden that Otaru Ree has imposed upon her broad shoulders.\"\n\n\"Islena's is not a destiny that I would envy, Lorio,\" Artumas observed as the first light of dawn peeked above the tree line to the east.\n\nLorio frowned in vexation. \"Given what she shared about your purported intertwined natures, I fail to understand how it is solely her burden to bear?\"\n\nFinding himself lacking an appropriate response to Lorio's vaguely accusatory remark, Artumas was mildly relieved when the two Jerhia came trotting into sight.\n\n\"Any sign of her passage?\" Lorio demanded anxiously.\n\nThe pair exchanged concerned glances and Arminda said, \"None...around the slight bend, the sand is wind swept and unbroken by even the slightest hint of passage.\"\n\nLorio nodded, relieved that Doraux had not succumbed to her compulsive nature and went off to meet Otaru Ree alone. That burgeoning relief was quickly and brutally bludgeoned by Gillian's next disclosure. \"We came upon a single set of foot prints angling up along the strand and terminating at the edge of the trees.\"\n\nThe Lamish immortal's horrified gaze slid briefly to Artumas and she demanded curtly, \"Show me!\"\n\nThe four set off and as an ineffective light shone through the tops of the few trees that had withstood Myrhia's destructive frenzy, they came upon the solitary set of tracks. The group abruptly stopped and fell into a bleak study of this set of prints and all that it implied. At last, Artumas squatted down to engage in a closer examination of the tracks. \"These unique tread patterns definitely belong to the strange shoe that Islena wears. The length of each stride and the depth of the track is consistent with someone walking...not running. From this, we can conclude that Islena left of her own accord.\"\n\nHe glanced in the direction of the trees where brooding shadows still held court and shook his head in open bemusement. Arminda followed his troubled gaze and asked of no one in particular, \"Why would Islena venture into the forest at night? She, herself, spoke of how perilous that path would be in the wake of what we presume was Myrhia's action.\"\n\nLorio regarded the girl balefully and even in the inadequate light, the scorn on her lovely face was glaringly apparent. \"Is it not apparent to anyone else that Islena has undergone a subtle, but nonetheless profound transformation since reaching the ocean. She has grown remote...inaccessible and secretive. It is this ambivalence that frightens me more than anything else. This sudden vanishing is consistent with her reticent and unpredictable behavior.\"\n\nThis observation seemed to startle and unsettle the young Jerhia, who demanded, \"What are you suggesting...that Islena is losing her direction?\"\n\nLorio was about to lash back with a caustic rejoinder, but the Emercian raised his hand. \"We can address the matter of Islena's peculiar behavior once she is back among us. For now, let us concentrate on how we might bring that to pass.\"\n\n\"Realistically, we can't venture into the forest until full light,\" Gillian opined calmly. \"It would be preferable if we await Sormias' return before attempting a search. His aid would be invaluable.\" After a moment, he added, \"I grant that there is merit in Lorio's assessment of Islena. Given that, we also have to consider the possibility that this could be a clever ruse.\"\n\nHe swept his left arm back along the trail of tracks. \"This would be a highly effective misdirection if Islena deliberately left the trail to deceive us into thinking she'd entered the forest. Once in the tall grass, she could easily have gone north...or south...and we would be none the wiser.\"\n\nLorio scowled and instructed gruffly, \"The three of you can remain here and wait for the insect to return. As I am the least vulnerable, I will enter the forest and begin searching for Islena. When the Golgar returns, you can send him to join me.\"\n\nThe others were preparing to raise their objections when a voice called, \"Save your heroics for another time, Lorio...I'm back.\"\n\n2\n\nSygeanor recovered her balance and stood gazing down upon the fallen Jerhia with a scowl of distaste twisting her broad features. Adjutant Margarus was the first to come to the fallen soldier's aid. Kneeling, she gently rolled the woman onto her back and assisted her into a sitting position.\n\nCauldanys' exhausted gaze fell upon the adjutant's face and her eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment. The iron gray hair was cut short and blunt and framed an austere, lean face that was lined by four decades of service in the Jerhia military. Captain Margarus was the very epitome of everything the Jerhia culture represented. In her formidable presence, Cauldanys had always felt like a sorry sham of a soldier.\n\nStill, the adjutant regarded her though ice blue eyes that radiated both concern and warmth. \"Do you feel well enough to stand, Sergeant Cauldanys?\"\n\nMortified and blushing with intense shame, the Jerhia simply nodded and the adjutant hauled the diminutive soldier erect in surprisingly powerful arms.\n\nStealing a brief glance at the terrifying Sygeanor, Cauldanys thanked the adjutant and turned her attention to the Maxim Tier Marshall. Maroc watched the young Jerhia, who reminded him of the valiant Arminda, and recognized the signs of trauma written on her pretty face. \"It seems you've been through a rather harrowing ordeal...I would hear your report now...if you are able.\"\n\nWith Margarus' steadying hand still on her arm, Cauldanys offered her superior a formal bow, scarcely able to believe that she was in the presence of the Maxim Tier Marshall of Jerhia...much less about to deliver a direct report.\n\nDuring her rambling trek though the stormy night, the diminutive Jerhia had grappled with the onslaught of complex emotions that had assailed her in the aftermath of her encounter with the two women. That a woman, whom she had come to within a trigger squeeze of killing, would intervene to save her from a hideous death had thoroughly destroyed her every perception of the world.\n\nHer first instinct had been to simply walk away...to wander into the wilds and allow her feet to lead her into whatever future they would. She had laughed at this capricious fancy, understanding that...while she could never go back to being what she was before the pair had found her, Cauldanys could not completely abandon her identity...at least, not yet.\n\nNow, as she prepared to deliver her report, the Jerhia was again visited by the need for delicacy. She was especially cognizant of Sygeanor's daunting presence at her shoulder. Slowly, haltingly...Cauldanys recounted the tale of her encounter with the Fairmarch slave and the frightening Redian girl, employing a liberal measure of selective editing when relating details of her harrowing experience in the cave.\n\nBy the time the Jerhia had concluded her account, the Maxim Tier Marshall's wind burned face had turned grim and his mood somber. \"You say that an unarmed girl incapacitated you and killed your two fellow soldiers in the space of a few seconds?\"\n\nCauldanys nodded, her face contorting at the painful recollection...conveying a terror she did not have to feign. \"This girl was...a beast. She swept over us like a Sherak. I've never encountered a creature so utterly terrifying.\"\n\n\"I can attest to the validity of her claim, Maxim Tier Marshall,\" the adjutant interjected, squeezing Cauldanys' arm in reassurance. \"During the early years of our campaign in Redia, I personally faced many Redian women in combat. They are formidable, frightening foes. Any one foolish enough to underestimate them would quickly find themselves divested of their head.\"\n\nMaroc frowned, but nodded, though it was Sygeanor who posed the next blunt question, her frigid tone matching her penetrating gaze. \"Why do you yet live, when this young she-demon slaughtered your two comrades?\"\n\nCauldanys blinked nervously and glanced at Maroc, who remarked quietly, \"You may answer the question.\"\n\nAfter drawing a sharp, shallow breath, Cauldanys forced herself to meet the half-Ulgak's incisive stare. \"She spared me so that I could carry a message back to the one who led the raid on the mine.\"\n\nIntrigued, Sygeanor arched a thin eyebrow. \"Indeed...and what message would she have you convey?\"\n\nCauldanys drew herself erect and refused to appear daunted in the face of Sygeanor's awful regard. In a flat voice, she disclosed, \"She bid me to tell you, Sygeanor, that she...Ynathreen, daughter of Ghordrian and Clan Chief of Elderspire...would see you dead by her hand.\"\n\nA stunned silence descended upon the tent's interior and a moment of perfect empathy passed between the two women, who continued to glare balefully at each other. A humorless grin broke over Sygeanor's face and she intoned darkly, \"Did she indeed...then I will have to indulge the whelp and expedite the day of our meeting.\"\n\nTurning to Maroc, the half-Ulgak announced, \"It looks like there will be another change of plans...this will necessitate a slight delay.\"\n\n\"You're speaking of a young girl and an escaped slave...they would hardly seem to pose a threat that would warrant a major change of strategy,\" Maroc suggested dryly.\n\n\"They are a loose end...one that could very easily cause the weave to unravel if it is not addressed,\" Sygeanor retorted angrily. \"In the morning, we will conduct a thorough search until they are found. If compassion thus moves you then you may take this slave back to Metocan, but the Redian is mine. I will make her wish that this craven had never revealed my name.\"\n\nSygeanor turned back to Cauldanys, pointedly ignoring Maroc's objections to her denigration of his soldier. Her nostrils flared as she caught the subtle scent of arcane energy being expended. Her large gray eyes narrowed in suspicion and her penetrating gaze traveled along the length of Cauldanys' body. In a glacial voice that eloquently declared that contradiction would not be tolerated, Sygeanor insisted, \"Remove you clothing.\"\n\nAdjutant Margarus immediately pulled a flummoxed Cauldanys behind her and drawing herself erect, growled, \"Whatever authority you think you might possess...it does not extend to debasing Jerhia.\"\n\n\"Stand down, Adjutant,\" Maroc commanded quietly and the Captain's startled gaze snapped to meet her commander's cool regard. \"If Sygeanor has specific concerns, then I would hear them.\"\n\nMargarus bowed stiffly and stood aside, though her disgust and indignation was readily apparent on her lean and angular face.\n\n\"A low grade arcane energy is emanating from this woman's body. I would know its source and how she came by it,\" Sygeanor persisted.\n\n\"Sergeant Cauldanys, if you know of what Sygeanor speaks, then I would have you declare it now, lest I am forced to have you comply with her demand.\" Though Maroc had delivered this command in a soft, reasoned voice, his expression left no allowance for refusal. Margarus averted her eyes to her boots, though her rigid posture eloquently declared her stern disapproval of the heavy-handed tactics that were being employed against the beleaguered soldier.\n\nThe diminutive Jerhia swallowed, sickened and shocked by her commander's sanction of this abjection. \"When Ynathreen cut my upper thigh, the wound was shallow, but bled profusely. The slave...Muragren, insisted that I allow her to apply clay to the wound. She claimed that it would staunch the bleeding and prevent healing. I saw no harm in allowing her to do so and it seems that she was correct.\"\n\nCauldanys was stunned when Sygeanor gripped her right bicep and spun the smaller woman to face her. The unbridled excitement in those limpid eyes was palpable. \"You are saying that this slave possesses a quantity of clay?\"\n\n\"Yes...two sacks,\" Cauldanys revealed and winced at the gleam of pure avarice that flared in the half-Ulgak's eyes. The ferocity of that expression of greed informed the Jerhia that her unthinking disclosure...as innocuous as it had seemed...may inadvertently signed the pair's death warrants.\n\n\"Can you lead us back to this cave?\" Sygeanor demanded impatiently.\n\n\"No,\" Cauldanys replied at once...the lie springing automatically to her lips. \"I was unconscious when I was brought to the cave and blindfolded when led away. The girl released me at the location where my squad was first attacked.\"\n\nSygeanor pondered this while studying the girl's face for any hint of deception, though the Jerhia managed to maintain a mask of inscrutability beneath that terrible glare.\n\nAfter a protracted and agonizing moment, Sygeanor shrugged, \"That will suffice as a starting point for the search. Come first light, you will lead me back to the site of the ambush.\"\n\nAfter a momentary pause, a humorless grin split the half-Ulgak's lower face and she instructed, \"Now...I would see this wound.\"\n\n3\n\nThe four spun in unison, their surprise deepening exponentially when they discovered Islena assisting a very muscular, very naked male from the grass shelf and onto the soft golden sand. The man's head was bowed and the way he leaned heavily on Islena for support declared that he was either injured or unwell.\n\nThe four converging upon Islena, assailing her with a hail of questions, but she waved them off with a dismissive flick of her right hand. \"Let's get Sormias off to the camp and we'll talk then.\"\n\nGillian draped the transformed Golgar's dangling arm around his neck and assumed part of Islena's burden. They guided the semi-conscious Sormias back to the now extinguished fire and laid him gently on the sand. As they trailed after the trio, Lorio and Artumas...ever perceptive...noticed the ornate leash and collar that was draped around Islena's neck. Both exchanged troubled, questioning glances.\n\nGillian helped Islena lower Sormias to the sand and Doraux covered his nudity with a rough spun blanket, recalling how she had aggressively molested the helpless Golgar in the hours before dawn. The act, she realized, had been perilously close to rape, but nonetheless filled her with dark satisfaction. _'Perhaps this too is an affirmation of Myrhia's contention.'_\n\nIslena rose and faced the others, prepared for an onslaught of questions which she had no genuine desire to answer. She was distantly aware of the cool sensation of Myrhia's leash against her skin and knew that this would be the most explosive point of contention in the dialogue to follow.\n\nIt was Arminda who spoke first in a voice fraught with genuine bewilderment. Islena regarded the girl, whose face was marked by purple and yellow bruises where Doraux had assaulted her the previous day. \"Islena, why would you risk going into the forest at night without alerting us?\"\n\nDoraux pointedly ignored the legitimate question, her attention fixed squarely upon Artumas, who, in turn, was staring at Sormias...his eyes wide with both confusion and dawning recognition. In a distant voice alive with a complex array of conflicting emotions too numerous to catalogue, he whispered, \"Lancelot?\"\n\nWhile the others glanced at the transfixed king questioningly, Islena merely nodded and declared flatly, \"Yes...and no. It's complicated and quite frankly, just an irrelevant distraction. Sormias innocently plucked this image from my memory earlier...having no way of knowing that it was actually Guinevere's memory he was raiding. Last night, Myrhia took it from his.\"\n\n\"Myrhia?\" Lorio hissed, her dark eyes flashing dangerously at the mention of her former mistress. \"She was here...did this to him?\"\n\nIslena nodded wearily as bone-deep exhaustion muted the gleam in her green eyes. Quietly, she confirmed, \"Yes...she came to me during the night and asked me to join her in the forest...to engage in a dialogue. When I realized that it wasn't merely a vivid dream...I decided to comply.\"\n\n\"By all the Gods there are, why would you ever agree to something so precarious...and frankly, blatantly stupid?\" Gillian demanded, perpetually amazed by this woman's impetuous nature.\n\n\"She told me if I attempted to rouse any of my companions, she would slaughter them where they slept,\" Islena retorted, vexed by the Jerhia's grating tone. \"I believe her...given what she's done to Sormias, I believe I made a prudent choice.\"\n\n\"Still, this was inspired more than by simple prudence, wasn't it Islena?\" Lorio challenged, her keen wit detecting Islena's slick evasion.\n\n\"I went because I wanted to hear what she had to say,\" Islena admitted, returning the Lamish beauty's contentious glare with her most obstinate scowl.\n\n\"Why, Islena?\" Artumas inquired, still able to drag his gaze from the slack face of the man who had been his closest friend and most grievous betrayer. \"What possible benefit could be found in engaging in a dialogue with a woman, whom we all know to be a master deceiver?\"\n\n\"She has answers I require, Artumas,\" she replied in a deliberately curt tone, \"Answers about who I am...or more succinctly...what I am. You, of all people, should understand this need.\"\n\nThe other three exchanged baffled glances, loathing the exclusionary undercurrent that always seemed to flow between the pair. Arminda's gaze fell upon the semi-conscious Golgar and she asked, \"Islena, what has she done to Sormias?\"\n\nIslena's brown furrowed, privately suspecting that her rough treatment of the Golgar might, in part, be responsible for his persisting state. \"I don't really know. Obviously, she surprised him somehow.\"\n\nShe went on to describe selective parts of her encounter with Myrhia's apparition, purposefully omitting details of her disclosure and Islena's subsequent carnal plundering of the helpless Sormias. In conclusion, she revealed, \"Myrhia's army has reached the Upper Lands and she is closing in upon us. She came to me with her terms for ending this conflict without further bloodshed.\"\n\n\"You would actually lend credence to anything that spewed forth from that vile bitch's mouth?\" Gillian exclaimed and for the first time since Ossiran had tasked him with the distasteful duty of assassinating Islena, the Jerhia discerned that this extreme measure might actually be both warranted and necessary.\n\nIslena turned her emerald fire upon the swordsman, whom a part of her thoroughly detested. With a cryptic grin, she snapped, \"I've come to learn that absolutely nothing in this accursed land is what it appears to be. Myrhia is no exception...and quite frankly, neither am I.\"\n\nGillian shook his head, disconcerted by both this vague statement and the unfathomable expression on Islena's exquisite face.\n\n\"Why is that...device draped around you neck?\" Lorio demanded gruffly, a faint moue of distaste twisting her full lips.\n\nIslena lifted the collar and regarded it closely, her eyes narrowed and her expression indecipherable. \"This is Myrhia's condition for accepting my surrender. I am to wait here and wear this collar and leash as a sign of my submission to her. I will then swear fealty and basically agree to be her marionette. In return for this, she will end all hostilities...and withdraw her armies from all occupied countries, before returning the throne of Emercia to Artumas. She will forego any personal quarrels against you and the others here. She will return my son to my husband and leave both this world and mine in peace. Once we've attained the remaining two proclamations and I've...ascended, she and I will leave this world and your nightmare will be over.\"\n\nFor an interminable moment, a resounding silence descended upon the strand as the four gaped at Islena in stupefied incredulity. At last, it was Gillian who lashed Islena with a caustic condemnation. \"Even if you were so mind-bogglingly obtuse and gullible to agree to this insanity, do you honestly believe that Myrhia will be inclined to respect these terms once you are firmly in her thrall? Surely you're not capable of such sophomoric self-delusion?\"\n\nIslena bore the Jerhia's withering contempt stoically. A snarl tore from Lorio's twisted lips and she savagely tore the leash and collar from Islena's hand. Pivoting on heel, the tempestuous Lamish beauty marched toward the ocean with the intention of tossing the hateful device into the surf.\n\nAn overwhelming panic seized Islena then and she emitted a harrowing shriek and charged after the immortal, while the other looked on in immobilizing shock. Gripping a startled Lorio's right bicep, she spun the taller woman around and ripped the leash from her grip, while pushing Lorio away with her free hand.\n\n\"This is mine...my burden...my decision to make and I will not let you take it from me!\" her voice trembling on the razor's edge of hysteria.\n\nLorio's shock relented to suspicion and her baleful glare locked with Islena's intransigent glower like the resounding clash of steel on steel. An instant of undiluted empathy passed between the two women as the hybrid gleaned the salient truth of Islena's intention.\n\nBellowing in fury, Lorio surged forward and drove her knee into Islena's sternum. The massive exhalation of air was impossibly loud as Islena sank to her knees. Before she could collapse, gasping and sobbing onto her face, Lorio again ripped the leash from her slack grip. Stepping nimbly around Islena, the immortal looped the articulating obsidian leash around Islena's bulging neck and began to drag the heavily muscled woman toward the surf.\n\nThoroughly disconcerted by the alacrity with which violence had supplanted reason, the other four were momentarily reduced to immobility. Lorio managed to drag Islena into the surf until the water had reached her mid thigh. She then savagely thrust the helpless Islena's head beneath the waves and held it there. Jerking a sputtering Doraux from the salty water, Lorio beleaguered her with a sharp series of open-handed blows that rang impossibly loud in the early morning air. Face contorted with rage, the Lamish immortal rained her outrage on a dazed Doraux. \"You'll never wear this thing Islena...I'll kill you with my bare hands before I allow you to become that bitch's groveling boot licker. I'll strangle you with this and she can have your lifeless corpse!\"\n\nWith this rasping threat articulated, a mindless anger took Lorio then, fuelled by the recollection of every indignity and misery she'd suffered on this flawed woman's behalf. Drawing the ends tight, she pulled Islena back against her knee and leaned back. The obsidian segments bit cruelly into the flesh of Islena's neck, abrading the skin in a dozen places. Islena's green eyes bulged until it seemed that they would be extruded from their sockets as she thrashed frantically and tugged ineffectually on the leash.\n\nSeeing Islena's color deepen to crimson and fearing that the enraged Lorio would make good on her vow finally broke Artumas' paralysis. After clapping Gillian on the back, the deposed king charged toward the pair, intending to tackle Lorio, while fearing that the three would lack the means to prevent the immortal from simply strangling the world's one hope for salvation to death.\n\nHe had come to within arm's reach of the hybrid when a blinding argent flash erupted in the morning air...seemingly finding its origins in Islena's assailed flesh. It caught Lorio full in the chest, sending her hurtling back up the sandy incline, where she landed on her back with a guttural grunt and went utterly still. The concussive force also struck Artumas, depositing the startled Emercian heavily on his rump. The blow lacked the efficacy of the impact that had apparently rendered Lorio insensate and the Emercian regained his senses in time to see Islena slump beneath the water with her mouth lolling open.\n\nGillian and Arminda both raced past the kneeling Emercian, but as they splashed into the rolling surf, Islena was suddenly lifted out of the water by an argent carpet of energy. Slowly, it conveyed the coughing woman back to the relative safety of shore, depositing her gently on the sand some twenty feet from the water's edge. Once securely back on land, Islena curled into a fetal position and began to sob wretchedly. As Artumas and the two Jerhia looked on, feeling miserable and woefully inadequate, the convulsive sobbing continued to shake Islena's powerful body. The deposed king noticed that the rear zipper of Islena's suit had been pulled down by the ferocity of Lorio's attack. The rippling muscles of her exposed back were crossed by pink, puckered scars where the islander's rope had torn her flesh. The full weight of the injustice this woman had suffered and the incomprehensible burden that her cruel fate had imposed upon her fell upon Artumas then. Overwhelmed by pity and raw emotion, he turned away from the sorry spectacle of Islena's poignant suffering and covered his eyes with his right hand.\n\nArminda tentatively approached the fallen Doraux, but discerning the barely audible hiss and crackle of unseen power, Gillian restrained her, cautioning quietly, \"No closer, Arminda...Whatever power intervened to stop Lorio is now warding Islena against further abuse.\"\n\nArminda's face twisted into a grimace of frustration as she watched Islena suffer in solitude.\n\nWith a slight incline of his head, Artumas gestured for the others to follow him back to the unconscious Sormias and allow Islena's grief to exhaust itself.\n\nThe trio trudged dejectedly past the sprawled form of Lorio. Not one of the three spared the immortal even a cursory glance.\n\n4\n\nThe sun stood at its zenith when Islena finally pulled herself onto her hands and knees and rose to her feet on trembling legs. She stood without moving for several moments, swaying slightly from the residual effects of Lorio's thrashing. Even from their perspective further up the shore, the others could see that Islena's face was hollow-eyed and drawn.\n\nIslena glanced down to find Myrhia's symbol of submission still clutched tightly in her right hand. She scowled and then surveyed the length of strand, her gaze falling on the unmoving Lorio, who still remained where she had fallen earlier in the morning.\n\nIslena cast a baleful glare at the others and stumbled over to Lorio, sinking to her knees beside the immortal. To her surprise, Lorio was fully conscious and staring unblinkingly up at the covering cloth of pristine blue. As Doraux's shadow fell across her face, Lorio turned her gaze briefly upon Islena before grimacing and returning her regard to the indifferent sky. In a toneless, listless voice, she remarked, \"If it is an apology you expect, Islena...I'm afraid I can't accommodate you.\"\n\nIslena tenderly laid her left hand on Lorio's belly and smiled wanly, \"I wish I could make you understand why I would even consider this...this perverse symbol of abjection...why I simply didn't allow you to toss it into the ocean. My encounter with Myrhia yielded the ugly, unembellished truth of what I am, Lorio and no matter how this nightmare resolves itself...everything is lost to me...stripped of every vestige of meaning...not by Myrhia, but by the undeniable, undiluted reality of my own insufferable nature.\"\n\n\"I don't understand you, Islena,\" Lorio groaned, her voice fraught with misery. \"You constantly speak in indecipherable riddles rife with vague allusions.\" She suddenly laid her hand on Islena's and gripped it fiercely. \"I see only a woman...a virago for whom I would do anything...sacrifice anything to see you stand triumphant.\"\n\nIslena offered Lorio a sad, wan smile that bludgeoned the immortal's heart. \"The image you're seeing is a lie, Lorio...a façade so elaborate and complex that even I had no idea that a terrible void existed behind it. The reality of what I am is a sterile wasteland that has scoured all hope from my heart.\"\n\nShe held the collar and leash aloft and Lorio responded with a despairing moan. \"I have one hope left Lorio...that my sons and your child could live to grow up in worlds that are free of Myrhia's shadow...and mine. In light of what I've learned last night, this may be the only way forward...the only glimmer of a chance that this hope might somehow come to fruition.\"\n\nTears began to pour forth from Lorio's dark eyes then...running in continuous rivers over the prominent ridges of her cheek bones. \"Islena, can't you understand...I would rather die fighting beside you...to see everything I love and care for reduced to ash and bone than have you humiliate and debase yourself before Myrhia. No matter what might be gained from it...it isn't worth the cost of your degradation. Please Islena, let me die fighting for you rather than let me live to see your surrender.\"\n\nIslena shook her head adamantly. \"I can't Lorio...can no longer carry the weight of your perfect expectation. I am inadequate to the task of bearing your love and will be crushed remorselessly beneath it.\" She leaned closed until their faces were only scant inches apart. Lorio peered up into those inexpressibly beautiful green eyes and was suffused by a love so pure...so unassailably immaculate that the immortal feared it might set her ablaze...which made Islena's next impassioned entreaty all the more devastating. \"I'm asking you...begging you to release me from it...to free me from this stifling obligation of your love for me. Turn your thoughts to this child and the world that will rise in the wake of this tragedy's end and find the courage to divorce yourself from the feelings that bind you to me. I can live with the bitter disillusionment of realizing that I am devoid of humanity...that my salient nature is an ugly blend of conflicting emotions all meant to serve one wretched purpose. I'm prepared to face the black ordeal that awaits me...like a siren's call to a living tomb. I can endure all of this...only if I know that I haven't left your spirit a broken shambles in the process. Lorio...I'm telling you this because you are the last living thing that truly loves me...Myrhia is not the monster in this nightmare...I am! The black irony of this bitter morass into which we've all plunged...is that she may be the only thing to save you from what I will inevitably become.\"\n\nThe protest...the strident repudiation of this ineffably terrible contention...began to take shape at the back of Lorio's mouth, but it faltered in the face of the shadow that capered in those emerald depths. In that single awful moment of perfect epiphany, Lorio came to understand that Islena had already disentangled herself from the complex emotional bonds that had bound them together since that brutal battle in Kornas. Along with this devastating divestment of her fragile illusions, Lorio came to realize that Islena Doraux was already well along the path to transcendence. This unbearable disclosure tore through her mantle of reticence and surly defiance and laid waste to the essence of the young, vulnerable woman that the immortal struggled so hard to repress and conceal.\n\nShe squeezed her eyes shut to occlude that beloved image that now filled her with such acute pain. Crossing her arms in front of her face, she wailed, \"Then just leave me here, Islena. I want to lay here and let the sand drift over me until I disappear...please!\"\n\nIslena firmly gripped Lorio's wrists and pulled her arms down. \"Enough, Lorio!\" she insisted, mild reproach coloring her tone. \"Let there be no more discord between us...no more sorrow or heartache. Let us make peace between us and take solace in each others company for whatever time we have left together.\"\n\nLorio merely stared at Islena for a long and emotionally fraught moment. There was a hint of desperate exhortation in that plea...one that reminded Lorio of the woman she'd first met. Regaining a small measure of her shattered equilibrium, Lorio nodded weakly...though with this acquiescence, she could feel a small, but tenacious spark flicker and die in her soul.\n\nIslena offered Lorio an ebullient grin of gratitude and sprang lithely to her feet. Reaching down, she pulled the fractured immortal upright and taking her hand, led her back to the others.\n\nThey gazed at her expectantly as she approached. Sormias had recovered sufficiently to revert back to his true form, but his golden eyes appeared distant and slightly glazed.\n\nTo her surprise, Doraux felt none of the constricting pressure that those needful gazes had once evoked.\n\n' _Because you have moved beyond the ability of those needs to bind you with a sense of obligation,'_ she understood and that revelation, while troubling...was also liberating. The creature that she was rapidly moving toward becoming would not be encumbered by the desires and imperatives of those around her, but rather...she would serve her ingrained purpose with brutal intransigence...harboring no regard for the affects of her actions on those who had become shackled to her destiny. She would...\n\nIslena blinked and shuddered in the midday warmth as the pervasive tremor of a dread chill ravaged her body. That voice...ruthlessly intractable and inhuman...had not been another of her innumerable incarnations. The fulminating rumble that rolled along the darkened corridors and chambers of her mind had been the cumulative voice of every life she had ever lived. Coldly declaring its indifference to any and all consequences, the voice of her true essence...the embodiment of an immutable purpose...had spoken to her then.\n\n' _Do you have the courage to confront your true identity without the protective mantle of delusion or bias, daughter?'_ It had been Myrhia who had posed this question, but only now, as her comprehension of the implacable truths that governed her life became deeper, did Islena grasp its terrible ramifications.\n\nFacing her companions, Islena Doraux...now poised on the brink of an all-encompassing change...was determined to offer them the total candor they deserved. In truth, there was little else of value she could offer.\n\n\"I'm going north...to Otaru Ree...with the intention of recovering the Dragonsword,\" she began in a soft voice that was bereft of emotion. \"You may come or stay as you see fit...the choice is yours to make individually. If you remain, it is likely that you will find yourselves directly in the path of Myrhia's army.\"\n\nShe held the collar and leash aloft. \"Unless I'm willing to don this, her hospitality is not going to be something you're likely to enjoy. If you accompany me north, I can offer you no guarantee that one of you will not fall victim to Otaru Ree's price of passage. I will make every effort to convince her to waive that fee, but I'm frankly not optimistic about my chances of succeeding. Again, the choice is strictly yours to make as is the responsibility for the consequences of misjudgment.\"\n\nHer gaze slid from one solemn, strained face to the next, deliberately avoiding Lorio, whose heart-broken countenance, she understood implicitly, could shatter her resolve. On the faces of the two Jerhia...especially the young and ingenuous Arminda...Islena saw only hurt confusion, while Artumas regarded her with a speculative expression. As usual, it was virtually impossible to gauge Sormias' reaction...so alien and inaccessible was his majestic visage.\n\n\"What I'm trying to tell you is that, from this point forth, my only concern is finding the Proclamations and stopping Myrhia...whatever that might entail,\" she concluded ominously. \"You have bound yourselves to me and as unfair as it might be...that entanglement could well mean that you find yourselves very much like wheat being ground between the millstones of Otaru Ree, Myrhia and me.\"\n\nWith this, Islena turned and began to stride purposefully northward. After a moment, the others rose, exchange glances and moved resolutely after her.\n\nChapter Thirty Three\n\n1\n\nLike an enormous beast...an inexorable juggernaut of man, animal and monster...Myrhia's army cut a swathe through the Upper Lands. The signs of Myrhia's epic defilement were everywhere as her lethal machine trundled through what had once been an untouched, verdant paradise. Entire stands of trees had been felled by the titanic upheaval. They littered the forest floor, forcing Myrhia to dispatch teams of her indefatigable Morticants to clear a path for her conventional army.\n\nThere were other, more troubling signs that suggested that the enchantress' act of destruction could well permanently alter the Land of Shades. Entire stretches of forest appeared to have sickened and died. Once a striking, impossibly vibrant green...these expanses had turned a listless gray...suggesting total and irreversible sterility...as if Myrhia's arcane assault had leeched the very life out of the ground itself. As she rode through these patches, which appeared to be growing like malignant tumors, the enchantress viewed the land's plight with distracted indifference. In truth, there was a certain synergy between the dying land and Myrhia's sterile soul that the enchantress found distantly pleasing.\n\nAs her engine of conquest slithered over the diseased marches, moving northwest like a relentless predator, Myrhia's thoughts were occupied by her previous night's encounter with Islena Doraux. It was difficult containing her elation after seeing the Daughter of the Tempest wavering on the edge of absolute and abject surrender. Still, Myrhia had experienced enough sudden and dramatic reversals of fortune to be leery of premature celebration. How often had she suffered humiliating defeats when victory seemed inevitable?\n\n' _Yet this occasion is unique...unprecedented,'_ she assured herself. Islena was the most powerful incarnation of the daughter ever to be born...but also the most flawed and vulnerable. Beneath the mantle of physical power and capability, Myrhia detected the existence of a core of debilitating insecurity that would eventually render Islena hers for the taking. This insecurity had been glaringly apparent last night. Beneath the obligatory bluster and defiance, Myrhia gleaned that Islena had been ready to submit to her...wanted to capitulate if only to be free of the enormous burden that she was increasingly unequal to carrying.\n\nMyrhia shook her head, bemused by the petty spite that had provoked her to impose the particularly humiliating conditions on the circumstances of Islena's surrender. As much as she believed herself immune to the goading of petulance, the thought of Islena naked and prostrate at her feet...kissing her boot and swearing fealty...evoked a shiver of delight that was intensely sexual in nature.\n\nIt had been her final series of disclosures that had thoroughly shattered Islena's equilibrium. Her tempestuous nature...her fiercely independent ego...simply could not suffer the horrible discovery that her cherished volition was a laughable delusion. Islena Doraux's inflexible sensibilities could not endure the revelation that her carefully contrived and nurtured illusions were really nothing but cruel japes.\n\n' _But do you truly believe that she will be waiting...a subservient hound to enact your will...when you reach the western ocean?'_ a voice inquired in her mind, so softly as to be nearly inaudible. Myrhia blinked in surprise. It had been years since one of her previous incarnations had dared to raise its voice. Myrhia had long ago bludgeoned them into silence. That one would now dare speak...however timidly...spoke eloquently of the degree of anxiety the enchantress was presently experiencing.\n\n\"I do!\" she replied without equivocation, but it was in this confident certainty that the source of her present disquiet could be found. Islena's extensive list of demands was the specific cause of her unease. It spoke of premeditation...as if she had been pondering the subject of capitulation before Myrhia's illuminating disclosure.\n\nThe terms amounted to little more than a mere pittance. Surrendering control of this wretched world or the prospect of gaining dominion over Islena's world was insignificant when compared to having the Daughter of the Tempest squarely under her thumb. When Islena achieved apotheosis, it would be a goddess on the end of her collar and leash...not a mere mortal.\n\nYet, it was this very prospect that caused the enchantress such consternation and roused this uncharacteristic ambivalence. Was there something in Islena's well-considered list of demands that had been born of deception...a clever ruse designed to foil Myrhia's ambition even as it reached culmination.\n\nMyrhia uttered a rate epithet...despising the pernicious doubt that had come with so many past failures.\n\nSoul forge...these two words rose unbidden in her mind. Islena had proposed this as a means of freeing her son, while insuring that she, Islena, would be inextricably bound to Myrhia. Still, there was something decidedly sly about this sudden willingness to freely bind the two of them together. There was some obscure aspect of this ritual of entanglement that raised braying alarms in the enchantress' incisive mind.\n\nHer first instinct was to simply eschew this most intimate of bonds with the tempestuous Doraux. Should she decline, however, she would have little leverage with which to control Islena once she had ascended. In light of what Islena could well become once she reached apotheosis, this lack of compelling leverage could be catastrophic.\n\n' _You are walking gingerly along a keen blade, high above a sea of fire.'_ This unwelcome metaphor caused the enchantress to wince. As was her normal proclivity, Myrhia responded to doubt with action.\n\nSpurring her charger forward, she raced past the ranks of plodding horses until she came abreast of Adriatus. Like the rest of her mortal contingent, Adriatus' lined face reflected a new sense of exigency...and deepening anxiety that had fallen over the army upon their ascent into the upper lands.\n\n\"Have the smiths commenced their work?\" Myrhia inquired in a tone that was churlish and impatient.\n\nAdriatus nodded. \"They have, my queen. We have devised a rolling construct that will allow them to work as we move.\" He hesitated briefly and with considerable reluctance, added, \"This conveyance is cumbersome and has slowed our progress. The items you have commissioned require an exacting and delicate touch.\"\n\nTo the High Commander's eternal amazement, Myrhia leaned closer and administered a companionable clap on his left shoulder. \"Don't fret Adriatus...time is no longer the pressing concern it once was. Nonetheless, insure that the smiths continue to work once we make camp each night. If they require further inducement, inform them that they will personally know my wrath if the task remains incomplete by the time we reach the coast.\"\n\nDespite his best intention of maintaining a mask of neutrality, Adriatus grimaced, eliciting an amused chuckle from the enchantress. \"Why so dour, High Commander? It could well be that the last drop of blood has been spilled in this war. If this proves to be the case, then I declare that you have served me well and will receive your just recompense upon our return to Emercia.\"\n\nThere was a complex nuance to this seemingly innocuous statement that caused the Emercian's blood to turn to ice water in his veins. Myrhia reined her horse back in the direction from which she had come, but before departing added, \"When we reach the coast, you will reorganize the marching formation before we turn north...dividing the troops into three separate files. The Morticants will form the center column, the Imperial army will take the eastern file and the mercenary rabble will march along the shore. Adriatus do not apprise Baldasoran of this formation change until we reach the shore.\"\n\nWith this perplexing edict delivered, she wheeled her horse around and galloped away, leaving Adriatus alone to grapple with the hidden menace of her latest insidious maneuver.\n\nAs Myrhia returned to the rear of the formation, she reflected upon the inescapable truths that had always governed her particular reality. From the first instant she had plumbed the dark depths of her nature and unlocked the agonizing truth of her identity, Myrhia had accepted her unflinchingly cruel fate. Whatever sadistic bastard had created her...they had deigned that she would be a remorseless monster, doomed to suffer an endless succession of humiliating failures. Her structured mind dictated that she would move inexorably toward her purpose of the moment...even if it meant her inevitable demise. Early in this particular incarnation, the astute Myrhia had reached the conclusion that if victory was to be had...after her endless procession of failures...it could only be attained through the efforts of the frangible Islena Doraux.\n\n2\n\nThe party continued to travel along the shore in a dreary silence that was exacerbated by the growing proximity to something ineffably horrible. All sense of camaraderie had vanished as the group splintered into fragments. Islena invariably led the march staying ahead and out of earshot of the others. She trudged doggedly forward...her attention focused on a host of dark contemplations that picked at the edges of her humanity like ravenous vultures. She was only peripherally aware of the others as they traipsed along the golden sand and when dusk descended, she deliberately slept apart from the group.\n\nFor her companions, Islena's growing reticence was a source of gnawing concern. They now regarded the world's purported savior with varying degrees of dismay and consternation.\n\nAs dusk slowly descended near the end of the third day following Islena's devastating disclosure, another change appeared...further aggravating the dismal mood that hovered over the six like a storm cloud.\n\nThe landscape began to undergo a gradual metamorphosis...in barely perceptible increments at first and then with increasing and unsettling rapidity. The first noticeable change was in the sand over which they trod. Where all along it had seemed possessed of a golden glow, slowly it began to lose its luster...gradually becoming a dull brown and finally, a sterile, dispirited gray. By the time that Islena signaled a halt to the day's march, their feet had assumed the repulsive texture of pulverized bone meal.\n\nA chill had permeated the air as the pleasant breeze had relented to an incessant wind that evoked shivers and propelled each member deeper into their cocoons of isolation. All could clearly see, as they huddled around the fire that night, that the idyllic splendor of the western shore had been supplanted by the demesne of wither...where all vitality and beauty must inevitably perish. There could be little doubt that they now stood on the edge of purgatory...the realm of this dreaded entity...Otaru Ree.\n\nArtumas had come across a flat, smooth piece of driftwood that now served as his seat. He sat...lost in thought...as the others settled around him. The barrier, behind which was concealed the cumulative memories of his past lives, had proven impervious to his efforts to surmount it, much to his mounting frustration. He was incisive enough to discern that only by delving into those past memories could he hope to shed light on the darkened labyrinth of Islena's complex mind.\n\nHe became aware of someone standing expectantly next to him and looked up to find the two Jerhia peering intently down upon him. He winced internally, correctly surmising that they had come to impose yet another onerous burden on his stooped shoulders. He experienced a flash of irritation that quickly gave way to perplexity.\n\n' _What has driven us to this state of impatient intolerance in such short order? We've retreated behind walls of isolation as though what we must face is a terrible ordeal that we must ultimately face alone,'_ he wondered ruefully. Perhaps it was this place...with its lingering and unremittingly dreary atmosphere...that seemed to render everything futile and thus pointless.\n\n' _This is a place of capitulation,'_ an inner voice suggested and Artumas grimaced, his gaze automatically straying to the silhouette of Islena Doraux where she sat near the surf, cloaked in gloom and isolation.\n\n\"May we speak, Artumas?\" Gillian began, his blue eyes dancing in the firelight. The deposed king glanced up at the lean Jerhia who radiated a sense of exigent purpose in the way the campfire gave off its meager warmth. There was an irreverent, somehow disingenuous aspect to the Jerhia's face that made it difficult for Artumas to warm to the swordsman as if he operated to an ulterior purpose that would serve no interest save his own. He was the diametric opposite of Arminda, who appeared forthright and incapable of guile. Without speaking, he gestured for the pair to sit.\n\nGillian stole a furtive glance at Islena and it was quickly evident that the dialogue to follow was not intended for her ears. \"Good king, it is obvious that we are coming ever closer to the domain of the creature of which Islena has spoken...this Otaru Ree.\"\n\n\"The signs are certainly everywhere to be seen,\" Artumas agreed neutrally. He shifted his attention to Arminda, whose rare inscrutable expression intimated that she did not necessarily approve of what her countryman was about to discuss. \"Please, let us dispense with the formalities...this place is a world away from a place where titles bear any significant meaning.\"\n\nGillian nodded and after sparing a brief glance at Arminda, plunged directly to the heart of his concern. \"Artumas...Islena has grown inaccessible and her behavior has become increasing erratic in the time since she encountered the fantastical creature who holds dominion here. Her grown instability has worsened since Myrhia made this night visit. It is high past time we addressed the matter.\"\n\nArtumas frowned, immediately suspicious of the direction this subterfuge seemed likely to follow. \"Islena carries a burden that is very difficult for us to comprehend, thus making it a very precarious venture to judge her behavior.\"\n\n\"Yet that is precisely what we must do, Artumas,\" Gillian retorted in a voice that was hushed but insistent. \"Prophecy claims that Islena has been cast in the role of savior, but what if, by a perverse infirmity of the spirit, she seemed destined to be our scourge? Are we not under a moral obligation to forestall that possibility?\"\n\n\"You refer to the collar and leash and all that it would imply?\" Artumas inquired, understanding how Doraux's incomprehensible insistence on retaining Myrhia's symbol of capitulation could be construed as erratic and deeply troubling.\n\n\"It is an aberrant behavior fraught with dark meaning. Artumas, I have traveled with Islena Doraux and kept her close company over these past months. I can tell you, unequivocally, that this creature who now sits on the shore in no way...other than appearance...bears even the slightest resemblance to the woman I first met in the village of Tinacot. I will tell you that her changes cannot be attributed to the affects of trauma alone...irrespective of how harrowing her ordeal has been.\"\n\nArtumas pursed his lips noncommittally. \"I take it you have a proposed course of action?\"\n\nGillian scowled and shook his head. \"Not specifically...but I do have a very exact set of orders.\" When the deposed king arched a quizzical eyebrow, the Jerhia swordsman went on to elaborate...detailing the instructions that the former Maxim Tier Marshall, Ossiran, had given Gillian prior to his gruesome death. Artumas absorbed this account with an expression of mounting horror twisting his features. \"I was dispatched to kill Islena if it appeared that she was in danger of falling into Myrhia's clutches. I have pointedly ignored that edict...but now I find myself confronted with a situation that even dour Ossiran could never have imagined...Islena's willing subservience to the enchantress. This is an eventuality that must be prevented by any means at our disposal.\"\n\nBoth mortified and aghast by what he was hearing, Artumas rasped, \"Are you seriously suggesting that we consider killing Islena? Setting aside how inconceivably insane this idea truly is...we all were witness to what happened to Lorio when she accosted Doraux. It could well be that this is no longer a viable option...even if we were foolish enough to give it serious consideration.\"\n\nBefore the Jerhia could offer an indignant rejoinder to this blunt dismissal, Lorio was kneeling next to him, with a deceptively companionable arm around his shoulder and a broad grin on her beautiful face. That grin possessed a decidedly feral edge made lethal by the tip of her Zarcyk which had pierced the worn material of Gillian's tunic and dimpled the flesh beneath. \"I would seriously advise you to reconsider, assassin. If you stray within arm's reach of Islena, I will bury this in your throat.\" She then swept the others with a withering gaze rife with cold and deadly promise. \"Anyone who would lift a hand against Islena can expect the same.\"\n\nGillian glared at the immortal but did not as much as twitch, knowing how the impulsive Lorio was likely to respond to the slightest perceived provocation.\n\n\"Lorio, your preferred style of communication leaves much to be desired,\" Artumas observed dryly. \"Nor, judging by your recent interaction with Islena, does it yield any meaningful results...other than alienation. Now, put the damnable dagger in its sheath and let us discuss this like adults. While Gillian's proposed course of action is unacceptable...his apprehension over Islena's present state of mind is well founded.\"\n\nLorio lashed the Jerhia swordsman with a baleful glare, but after pressing the Zarcyk deep enough into Gillian's skin to draw blood, she quickly sheathed her weapon. She then rose and took a seat on the opposite side of the fire, her beautiful face set in lines of surly contention. Gillian shook his head in exasperation and returned his attention to Artumas, who had become the group's unspoken leader in light of Islena's apparent abdication. \"Artumas, I would never seriously propose that we harm Islena...much less kill her. I am merely saying that we must make some provision for preventing her from capitulating to Myrhia's demands if it seems she is thus inclined. That may warrant the use of some form of compulsion if she is determined to accept Myrhia's offer.\"\n\n\"Gillian doesn't the fact that Islena had continued along this path...toward recovering the icon and garnering passage through purgatory...not declare that she has no intention of acceding to Myrhia's demands?\" Arminda inquired.\n\nGillian shook his head. \"Not necessarily, Arminda. Irrespective of which path Islena chooses to follow, she will require the Dragonsword. As for the matter of safe passage...that topic has been conspicuously absent from mention on the last occasion she bothered to speak to us. I do not believe that Islena is inclined to embrace Myrhia's obsessive thirst for absolute dominion. I do, however, think that constant pain and sorrow has left her desperate for surcease. She genuinely believes that the enchantress will forego her ambitions in this world and her own if Islena submits to her authority. We have all languished in Myrhia's glacial shadow long enough to know how utterly preposterous and misguided that belief is. When that collar is firmly affixed around her neck and the Proclamations are firmly in her grasp, Myrhia will burn this world to a smoldering cinder as retribution for the temerity of our defiance. Is there one among you who can sincerely gainsay my contention?\"\n\n\"Islena will never kneel to that miserable shrew, Jerhia!\" Lorio exclaimed fiercely.\n\n\"Indeed, Lorio...is that why you came to within a heartbeat of strangling her to death?\" Gillian retorted sardonically. \"It seems that your action is rather inconsistent with your proclaimed certainty.\"\n\nLorio scowled and started to rise, but Artumas placed a restraining hand on her knee. In a gruff, firm voice, he commanded, \"Enough! This infantile verbal sparring serves no purpose. Because I believe that Gillian's concerns are legitimate, I will speak to Islena and attempt to gauge the direction of her thought on her intended course of action.\"\n\nRising, the deposed king imparted a dire warning. \"Islena seems to be entrenched behind her mantle of stoicism, but even if I manage to draw her into a dialogue, I fear that events have moved well beyond our ability to exert even the slightest influence on their course.\"\n\nThe three absorbed this dismal assessment in grim silence and when it became clear that no response would be forthcoming, Artumas turned and walked away from the fire. As he trudged heavily across the sand through the gathering darkness, he experienced a self-indulgent flicker of yearning for the solitude of his hovel.\n\n3\n\nFor Islena Doraux, there was very little solace to be found in the solitude she had been granted by the other party members. Though externally it appeared that Islena's lovely face was frozen in a mask of impassivity that bordered on disassociation, her mind was beset by a turbulence that rivaled the most inimical of Sheraks. Attempting to shore up the foundations of her resolve, Islena spiraled through the layers of her subconscious...burrowing through the muck and mire of each life she'd lived in search of the one commonality that might illuminate her path forward.\n\nThis excruciating exercise in soul searching had yielded three salient truths. She had despised the Mother of Iniquity with a hatred that was perfect in its symmetry. She had loved the Champion of Light...though her love was a scarred, imperfect thing that had invariably left both wounded and diminished in its fleeting wake. It was the final and most damning truth that had left her feeling ineffably and irredeemably vile. The trio's recurring collisions of fate had left each world and time they touched indelibly scarred and fractured. Their every resurrection had been accompanied by a tide of suffering and misery that had stood as an indictment against the concepts of sentience or virtue.\n\nFrom this came the shocking epiphany that threatened to shackle her in bitter chains of madness...by mindlessly gravitating toward the light with no serious thought given to the inherent contradictions of her conflicted nature...Islena alone had inadvertently (or so she fervently hoped) perpetuated this heinous cycle of carnage.\n\nDistilled from this was the final insight...if this was to end...if the appalling cycle of bloody mayhem, death and rebirth was to be brought to an emphatic halt...it must be by her hand.\n\nA despairing groan escaped her lips and a single tear slid lazily from the corner of her eye. Therein capered the bewildering essence of her grim riddle...immortal spirits tangled in an eternal conflict...forever re-enacting this tragic drama from within the shells of mortal vessels.\n\n' _The truth is glaringly obvious, Islena, though its clarity does little to make its realization a simple matter.'_ It was Guinevere who tentatively offered this dismal evaluation of Doraux's stark challenge.\n\n' _Ah, finally found your voice, did you?'_ Islena grumbled. _'Go back to sleep your highness...along with all the others. You've become irrelevant. I'm blazing out along a path where your sage advice won't be required.'_\n\nTo Islena's mild surprise, Guinevere complied and the cumulative voice of her sisters lapsed into a silence that was eventually destined to become permanent. Whatever future awaited her, Islena understood that she must face it alone.\n\nRepressing the incisive pain this detachment evoked, Doraux turned her thoughts to Guinevere's final words. The truth contained within was irrefutable...to break this cycle of horror at least one of the three must not die...a theoretically rudimentary concept that was realistically virtually impossible...except...\n\nIslena blinked and straightened, sensing that she was standing on the brink of something of critical importance...the image of Sormias came to her then as he hung locked in his mortal form and suspended in the throes of Myrhia's spell of paralysis. When Islena had asked the enchantress how long he could languish thus, Myrhia had intimated that he could remain in this fugue state indefinitely...aware but imprisoned within his own flesh...which would not wither or perish.\n\nAn excited gleam sparked to life in Islena's green eyes, where there had been only listless dejection only the instant before. She could hear the missing pieces of the puzzle rumbling around in the darkened corners of her mind...like a pin ball awaiting just the right stimuli to propel it into the appropriate hole. Just when she seemed on the verge of total clarity, a voice spoke from beyond the limits of her roiling thoughts and those pieces scattered like startled birds in the forest.\n\n\"Islena, I must speak with you,\" Artumas prompted softly. Doraux's head snapped up to meet his gaze and her eyes blazed with such unbridled animosity that Artumas actually recoiled, fearing that she might actually launch herself at him.\n\nGradually her truculent glare relented to an exasperated expression of seething impatience. The deposed king was appalled by the dramatic changes that had befallen Doraux over the last three days. Gillian's assertion was accurate...the woman before him scarcely resembled the one who had come to him only a scant week before.\n\n\"What do you want, Artumas,\" Islena demanded in a voice rife with surly impatience.\n\nThough taken aback by both the alien light burning in those luminous emerald eyes and her excessively curt tone, Artumas forged ahead. \"Islena, it is evident that we are nearly this purgatory you spoke of and we would know your mind before we come to it\"\n\n\"Perhaps I'm not of a mind to share my thoughts, Artumas...or maybe I'm just unsure of my own intentions,\" she replied coyly.\n\nArtumas pursed his lips ruefully at this deliberate evasion. \"If you would be circumspect, then let me be blunt...we fear that it is your intention to submit to Myrhia's demands.\"\n\nShe averted her eyes to the velvet blackness that hung over the rolling surf, mindless of the cold chill that had sprung up from the western ocean. As a tense silence engulfed the pair, Artumas noticed that her right hand had begun to caress the obsidian leash. \"I will tell you without guile or embellishment...I have every intention of being Myrhia's undoing. It is my burden alone and thus I alone will decide how it might best be achieved. Whatever twists this road might take...I would implore you never to lose sight of this.\"\n\nArtumas scowled, correctly deducing the orientation of her thoughts. \"Then I would entreat you to consider carefully the pitfalls that will undoubtedly await you on what is sure to be the most precarious road you will ever travel.\"\n\nShe regarded him with a humorless grin that resembled a death mask. \"You have no idea how eerily accurate your evaluation will prove to be, Artumas. Now, I will ask you a few questions that I fully expect you to answer with total honesty.\"\n\nArtumas signified his willingness with an intrigued nod. Islena regarded the king unblinkingly for an extended moment. \"Do you know where the two remaining Proclamations are hidden...with any degree of certainty at all?\"\n\nThe Emercian inhaled deeply. \"As I've mentioned, Islena...I have made an academic study of the Proclamations and the mantle of myths and half-truths that swirl around them. Knowing what I do about the three cultures and their proclivities, I have compiled a list of places where they might have been concealed. Remember, this list is based on conjecture and some fairly liberal extrapolations on the defining characteristics of each race. The very fact that you located the Jerhia Icon in Runesholm pretty much deprives my speculation of any credence. After that long-winded preamble, I will answer your question with a simple and honest no. I cannot, with any definitive certainty, tell you where the two remaining Proclamations might be concealed.\"\n\nIslena nodded gravely, her tense posture suggesting that she'd expected as much. The aging king experienced a bitter stab of disappointment, sensing that he had failed Islena in some ambiguous, but critical way that would impact on her future actions. Even in the darkness, Artumas could sense the intense turmoil churning behind Doraux's luminous eyes. At last, she resumed her series of questions, the answers to which would help forge her forward path. \"You are familiar with this prophecy of the one...Myrhia and the others have all described you as an authority.\"\n\nAgain Artumas concurred with a thoughtful nod. \"As much as one could be considered an authority on such an eclectic subject.\"\n\n\"It is said that Myrhia cannot wield the Proclamations directly and judging by her frenetic reaction at Runesholm when I attempted to give her the Dragonsword...that contention is valid.\" She paused briefly, shuddering perceptibly in response to the memory of that terrible night. \"The prophecy also claims that only one of pure virtue will unlock the recumbent power of the icons and this is where the equation goes seriously awry. I am far from virtuous and in my own way, I pose a far greater threat than Myrhia ever will.\"\n\nThe deposed king started to object, but Islena silenced him with an adamant shake of her red mane. \"Let's dispense with the obligatory claims concerning my mettle and inherent goodness...it's all bullshit of the most dangerous kind. I've burrowed down through the muck...all the successive layers of tawdry filth...to find the root of this pernicious cycle in which we're trapped...the three of us. The final bitter truth is that, should I attain the Proclamations and undergo this apotheosis, this world and every world beyond will come to know the true meaning of the word monster.\"\n\n\"Islena, did Myrhia escort you along the path to this distressing insight?\" Artumas inquired in a mildly reproachful tone.\n\n\"She did!\" Islena flared, \"but don't you dare condescend to me by suggesting that I've been misled or deceived like a gullible child. The truth she helped reveal is unequivocal and brutally succinct and I've accepted it without reservation, Artumas. In the final summation, she is no more responsible for this unending tide of misery than you or me. I have no interest in tedious debate...I only want your opinion on why I've been able to unlock the power of the Proclamations...given what I am.\"\n\n\"Islena, I've never been inclined to place much faith in the concept of gods or the strictures of fate and destiny. I've always subscribed to the notion that the latter two were mere contrivances...superficial excuses to absolve ourselves of our most heinous crimes. Your coming has disabused me of these smug certainties and most of the other misconceptions I've harbored. Is it possible for any of us to truly grasp the complex mysteries of fate and destiny? To even try might well be the ultimate manifestation of hubris...very much like professing to know the mind of a god. The very thought is so absurd as to be laughable and yet what is religious dogma but an attestation of the belief that such understanding may actually be possible. In answer to your question, perhaps the concept of fate and destiny are...in essence...nothing more than a system of balances...a way of insuring that no one force can run rampant and uncontrolled through this entity called creation.\"\n\nIslena shook her head, a frown of extreme perplexity furrowing her smooth brow. In a voice roughed by acute emotion, she remarked, \"I think there's a measure of truth in your theory, Artumas. The pivotal question would then begged to be asked...am I meant to be her balance or is she meant to be mine?\"\n\nArtumas, who could conjure no fitting response to this question posed from the depth of her wretched ambivalence, merely shook his head. \"One final question...and I ask you this because I know, through innumerable lifetimes of intimate experience, that you are the most ethically and morally inviolable creature to ever draw breath in this sorry universe...is it a grievous injustice to impose a harsh retribution on someone who is without volition for the acts they've committed...no matter how heinous? Would not such a punishment be an act of unconscionable evil in and of itself?\"\n\nFor a long moment, Artumas did not respond, so profoundly unsettled was he by this nuanced and complex question that had been posed with such heart-wrenching anguish. \"Islena, this is a question that is best left to scholars and saints. Its gravitas and scope lies well beyond my sensibilities.\"\n\n\"If you could divine your true natures as clearly as I do, you would understand how patently untrue that statement is, Artumas,\" Islena retorted quietly and without rancor...to which the deposed king frowned quizzically.\n\n\"You've become inaccessible Islena...your thoughts...the enormity of this burden you've been forced to bear...it beggars our comprehension. Still, if I had to render a judgment on your question, I would say that this situation falls into the peril-fraught realm of serving the greater good.\"\n\nIslena's only response was a sharp hiss to which the Emercian nodded in sympathy. \"Serving the greater good is often a fertile soil, apt to yield sanctimonious tyrants of the most reprehensible kind. Nonetheless, even if your acts of evil are not done of your own accord...you must be stopped by whatever means necessary...even if it seems to constitute a gross personal injustice.\"\n\n\"In the name of the greater good,\" Islena concluded sourly. \"Thank you Artumas, you've given me a lot to reflect upon.\"\n\nRealizing that he was being dismissed, Artumas started to turn away, but paused, no longer able to repress the questions that had plagued him since learning something of his essence. \"Islena...has Myrhia attained the same level of insight and depth of understanding that you have?\"\n\n\"She has,\" Islena allowed simply and then without entirely grasping her motives, added, \"I suspect that she grasped the salient essence of her nature long before you were...reunited in this world. Myrhia knows that she cannot triumph, Artumas. She was fully cognizant that I will destroy her...even as she drew me into this world.\"\n\n\"And yet she brought you here anyway?\" Artumas exclaimed, a spark of comprehension dawning in his eyes.\n\n\"Yes,\" Islena confirmed...her tone inscrutable. \"Try to fathom the terrible ramifications of that apparent contradiction...perhaps it will bring my last question into a sharper context and focus.\"\n\n\"Why, Islena, can I not see this deeper insight,\" he asked in a rare display of plaintive frustration. \"Since you returned that morning, I have labored to find a deeper sense of this multiplicity you claim I possess, but I can conjure forth nothing except for vague shadows and barely perceptible echoes. You claim that I am the third segment of this eternal triangle...why does my mind obstinately refuse to yield these memories?\"\n\nSlowly, Islena rose, sensing that this query plagued the noble creature like a maddening and inaccessible itch...something indicative of a deficiency. She stood before the man, who she had loved so passionately over the course of so many drama and tragedy fraught lifetimes. Staring into his lined and troubled face, Islena was saddened to feel only a mild affection for the man standing before her...a man who, in truth, was merely an inexorable and unchanging force granted substance. \"When I first had my vision of you...our shared vision...on the day this nightmare first began, I felt certain that it was imperative that I find you...that it was critically important that we reunite. Since then, I've come to glean that finding you wasn't the real objective. It was the journey to find you...and the profound enlightenment I gained during the course of that journey...that was important.\"\n\n\"I...I don't understand,\" Artumas stammered, bracing himself for the horrifying revelation her felt certain was to follow.\n\nDoraux ruthlessly subjugated her sense of compassion and delivered the crushing blow in brutally frank terms. \"This, I think, is the culminating battle, Artumas...one in which you've become...incidental. Mother of Iniquity and Daughter of the Tempest...both stripped of all blinders and unfettered by any delusions...an unprecedented occurrence in our long and odious history. She and I will end the tragedy, Artumas. You're only role will be to bear witness to that ending.\"\n\nShe reached up and tenderly touched his face. \"Through every life we've lived, I have loved you, Artumas...Arthur...Champion of Light...even though that love was a twisted, shallow thing that only exacerbated the horror and misery in the end. Standing before you now, with my every delusion laying in tatters at my feet, I can honestly say that I feel only a consuming need to see this end. Creatures such as us were never meant to live...much less live an endless succession of lives.\"\n\nShe dropped her hand and averted her eyes to the rolling surf. \"Tomorrow will be a black day, rife with grief and pain. I pray you live to see its end and hope you know a measure of peace before the end of your days...a final end if there is any justice left to be had. Whatever should happen and however damning my actions would appear to be, remember what I've told you...\"\n\n\"You intend to be Myrhia's undoing,\" Artumas replied, reiterating her earlier vow.\n\nIslena smiled...an expression of such beauty and radiance that it momentarily robbed the aging king of his ability to breathe. Without further word, Islena walked slowly to the water's edge, where she stood staring out over the Great Western Ocean.\n\nArtumas watched her in a despondent silence, assailed by an ineffable sorrow that he could not clearly define. After a moment, he turned and trudged back to the others, feeling both dejected and disconcerted by the things Islena had divulged.\n\n'You've become...incidental.' That blunt assessment of his role had abraded his ego...which he had believed to be long dead. The trio greeted his approach with grave, expectant frowns that caused him to avert his gaze to the fire.\n\n\"She would not speak of her specific intentions, but insisted that she is fully committed to Myrhia's destruction.\" Lorio accepted this announcement with a grin of vindication, while the two Jerhia offered no outward reaction.\n\nArtumas sighed and set off in search of solitude.\n\nChapter Thirty Four\n\n1\n\nThe party set out at first light and the pall of anxiety that had ushered them into sleep had not abated a whit as they trudged toward their fateful encounter. Islena came to stand before the others, her face sporting its perplexing new mask of reticence. In a voice devoid of intonation, she announced, \"We will reach the edge of Otaru Ree's purgatory today. It's imperative that you understand...once we cross into her territory, we will be at her mercy and the opportunity for reconsideration of your choices will be lost. If any of you has the slightest reservation about moving forward, this is the time to act upon it. None of you have any further obligation to me, so choose wisely with your own self-interest as your only priority.\"\n\nShe surveyed the five, lashing each with a severe frown. When none of the five displayed any hint of reluctance to continue, Islena offered them a tacit nod and turned away.\n\nAs Doraux strode purposefully through the lifeless gray dirt...her face set in mask of dogged determination...Artumas hurried to join her. Quietly, he remarked, \"When I first agreed to aid you in your search for the Proclamations, this is certainly not the direction I envisioned events would follow.\"\n\nShe glanced at him briefly, her generous mouth twisting into a sardonic grin. \"Welcome to my ugly reality. The truth is, Artumas, where you are at this precise moment is exactly where you were intended to be from the first moment you drew breath in this world...so don't look so surprised.\"\n\nArtumas' answering expression of contained skepticism vexed Islena mightily and she confronted the startled Emercian with a contentious scowl. \"I can tell you, with irrefutable certainty, that you have no role to play in everything that is to follow. If I told you to return to your hovel and wait for events to play out...do you really believe you could?\" She raised a muscular right arm and pointed back along the beach. \"If so, then go now. Demonstrate that your will is your own.\"\n\nArtumas' gaze shifted back along the sterile ribbon of dirt and as he pondered her suggested course of action, his expression became quizzical and then pained.\n\n\"Exactly!\" Islena rasped triumphantly and then resumed her inexorable trek. After a moment's reflection, the aging king hurried to join the woman who had become a living hieroglyph.\n\n\"I spent the remainder of the night reflecting on all that you imparted and though I can lay no claim to grasping this maddening conundrum around which our interaction is apparently constructed, I have reached a conclusion; you have my unconditional support.\"\n\nHer head jerked toward the deposed king and her green eyes were alight with surprise. Artumas smiled reassuringly. \"Whatever route you choose, I am confident that it will be the only viable path toward a just resolution of this iniquitous conflict.\"\n\n\"You're casting me in the light of infallibility Artumas and I can assure you that I'm anything but perfect,\" Islena warned, struggling to quell the flare of unwelcome emotion that his unexpected expression of confidence had evoked.\n\nArtumas shook his head mournfully. \"Islena, the concept of infallibility is a myth...or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it is a tasteless jape. Even these purported gods would be incapable of perfection because the parameters by which it is defined are nebulous and ever changing...rendering the very concept an impossible contradiction.\"\n\nThey walked along in a contemplative silence for a short space of time and Artumas went on to elaborate. \"Well it may be true that I've been denied the level of complete enlightenment you've attained, I still discern the salient truth of what you are.\"\n\n\"Really...then please tell me because I feel hopelessly lost,\" Islena demanded with a mixture of vexation and dejection. \"Myrhia claimed that of the three of us, only I had any genuine latitude to choose the course of my actions. Based on the possible futures I see confronting me, I can only regard that volition as more of a curse than a blessing.\"\n\n\"Islena Doraux, for all of your self-proclaimed flaws and festering doubts, I will not be dislodged from my conviction that your actions...as bewildering as they may appear...will ultimately serve the light,\" Artumas insisted ardently.\n\nAgain, Islena was shocked by the totality of his faith in her judgment and shackled by doubt that it was warranted. Fearing that she would succumb to her turbulent emotions and thus see her resolve completely undone, Islena seized on the one subject that required closure. She flicked her regard to Lorio, who trudged along with her head uncharacteristically bowed. \"Artumas, promise me on your honor, that when this is over and should there be a favorable resolution to this conflict, you will take care of Lorio. When the dust has settled and things return to normal...whatever shape normal might assume in the post-war world...I would not have Lorio abandoned and forgotten. Her association with me has cost her everything she has ever known or loved and I want your solemn oath that you will personally see that both she and her child are provided for...in every meaningful sense of the concept.\"\n\n\"I can assure you, Islena...when we see the other side of this...both Lorio and her child will be provided for in a sumptuous style befitting royalty,\" Artumas hesitated, knowing that he was about to stray into intimate, complex territory of matters for which he was not ideally equipped. \"Islena, if the emotions I've observed over the past few days are even remotely sincere...the only thing that will provide Lorio with any sense of peace and contentment...is you.\"\n\nStruck by this rapier precise assessment of Lorio's passion, a groan issued from deep within Islena's chest and she swiftly covered her eyes with her left hand, while frantically shaking her head and pushing Artumas away with her right arm.\n\nAlarmed by Islena's extreme agitation, Artumas tentatively extended his hand, but she brushed it aside and jogged away. She stumbled into a brisk walk some twenty yards ahead. The rise and fall of her square shoulders informed a disconcerted king that she was weeping.\n\nThe subject of Islena's intense anguish suddenly materialized at Artumas' side, regarding the deposed king with a mildly accusatory glare, \"What troubles Islena?\"\n\nArtumas turned his regard to the statuesque beauty, laboring to mask the sorrow that raked his insides. \"The same thing that troubles us all, Lorio...when we are forced to confront the inescapable reality of who we are and the exorbitant cost that accompanies such understanding.\"\n\nLorio stopped and glared at the aging king sourly, having no patience for ambiguity, but Artumas merely bowed his head and strode on.\n\n2\n\nAs morning relented to afternoon another surprising development declared the party's proximity to Otaru Ree's realm. For the first time since reaching the western shore of the great ocean, the sky was overcast. Slate gray clouds occluded the heavens from horizon to horizon and the temperature had plunged to levels that left the four mortals chilled. The ocean now appeared a forbidding black, save for the whitecaps that were agitated by the gusting wind. A brooding mist had rolled to the very edge of the forest, but on the few occasions when it would thin sufficiently to provide a glimpse beyond...the trees of the forest appeared stunted and twisted. Arminda was reminded of how the vampire forest had appeared prior to Islena's cleansing.\n\nSormias spiraled down out of the brooding sky and came to land directly before Islena, who gestured for the other four to gather while he delivered his report. The normally jovial Golgar appeared unusually subdued in the muted light. Somberly, he began, \"We've come to a place where no mortal was ever intended to trod...at least not while they drew breath. Everything...even the very rock and sand beneath our feet...is bereft of vitality and no living thing could ever hope to flourish here.\"\n\n\"Nonetheless, this is where I have to go,\" Islena declared bluntly. \"Did you detect any sign of...habitation?\"\n\nSormias shook his head, clearly unsettled by this inimical place. \"No...whatever dwells here is strictly spectral. There are residual echoes of consciousness here...but they are centuries-distant memories.\"\n\nIslena turned to the others. \"This is still the periphery of her realm. There is still time to turn back if you wish.\"\n\nLorio stepped forward and extended her leanly-muscled right arm to Islena. \"Very well, Islena...then let's you and I go together. We can expand upon Artumas' hovel and all live blithely by the ocean, spending the rest of our days communing with nature. I'm certainly willing and we can all live blissfully while Myrhia devours the world.\"\n\n\"I don't need your sarcasm, Lorio,\" Islena retorted ruefully.\n\n\"And we don't need your patronizing condescension,\" Lorio snapped angrily. \"We are all aware that you cannot retrieve the Dragonsword alone. A sacrifice is required and that is a role that one of us must play in this ugly drama. Now dispense with the baseless concern and let us go forth and see who draws the death card.\"\n\nIslena glared at the contentious raven-haired beauty, her exasperation attenuated by a profound love that she could neither express nor deny. Shaking her head, Doraux wheeled about and marched into the congealing mist.\n\nLess than a bell later, they came to a razor thin line of demarcation, more perceived than actual, that marked the point of delineation between the Land of Shades and Otaru Ree's Purgatory.\n\nIslena spared her five companions a brief glance...her emerald eyes alive with an indecipherable emotion...and strode purposefully over the invisible boundary. Once inside, she drew a quavering breath and even the air that filled her lungs felt fundamentally wrong in a way that she could not define in concrete terms.\n\nThe others marched briskly to join her and Islena was assailed by an acute sorrow that made her want to bray a cry of despair. With these six symbolic steps, the die had been cast and her path forward set in stone.\n\nOtaru Ree had instructed that she must journey to her castle, which stood on the northern edge of her domain. Standing on the southern periphery of this repository for the souls of unrepentant miscreants, Doraux arrived at her decision, gripping Myrhia's leash with white knuckled intensity.\n\nGesturing for the others to remain where they stood, Islena drifted deeper into the realm of shadow and ash. Arching her back and throwing back her head, she bellowed defiantly, \"Otaru Ree, I have come...but I will go no further. You shall come to me!\"\n\nIslena's powerful roar of summons spiraled up into the roiling heavens and radiated out with an astounding power that seemed to reverberate through the very bedrock beneath her feet. The four mortals staggered, while Sormias sprang into the air, suddenly cognizant of the invisible forces that were coalescing around the unsuspecting group.\n\nIn the blink of an eye, scores of apparitions began to manifest out of the bedrock, sand and ubiquitous mist. Though they were indistinct and ephemeral, the weapons they brandished were all too real...and lethal.\n\nThe shambling horrors converged upon the unarmed mortals, each displaying the appalling scars of the ugly trauma that had ended their mortal lives. One creature, whose head had been partially pulverized by a blunt weapon, raised an ancient, bronze-studded mace and converged menacingly upon Islena, who seemed oblivious to her imminent peril.\n\nThe specter raised the weapon, its lipless mouth twisting into a grin of triumph as it prepared to dispense death to the loathsome mortal.\n\nSormias unleashed a controlled blast of golden energy and the specter tore apart like a mist before a gale. Its antiquated mace fell to the lifeless dirt at Islena's feet.\n\nThe Golgar then turned his formidable puissance upon the ranks of apparitions nearest his four companions, cutting a swathe through their ranks that permitted the group to reach Islena.\n\nDoraux seemed either indifferent to or unaware of the pandemonium unfolding around her as she stood staring fixedly at the northern horizon. The flesh at the nape of her neck began to tingle in response to the seemingly infinite power that was swiftly coalescing around her. In a voice made tremulous with wonder and awe, Islena whispered, \"She comes!\"\n\nWith his wings beating like the snapping sails of a great warship, Sormias swept back and forth, systematically decimating the press of violence-frenzied apparitions.\n\nWith terrifying alacrity, a forked bolt of gray lightening arced out of thin air, striking the hovering Golgar from his right side sending him tumbling head over heels out over the raging ocean, where he abruptly plummeted into the dark waters.\n\nThe same incomprehensible energy obliterated the ranks of malevolent apparitions to a one, leaving only the howl of the forlorn wind in their wake.\n\nAnd then...as Islena had intuited...she was there.\n\nWith her impossibly long arms spread wide and an expression of extreme irritation set on her inexpressibly beautiful face, the gray goddess hovered above the strand in all of her stupefying majesty.\n\nWhile the four companions merely gaped in speechless incredulity, Islena sank to her knees like a supplicant before a deity. Yet when she spoke, it was in a fearsome voice without the slightest hint of deference. \"I have come to claim what is mine by right!\"\n\n\"This was not what we agreed upon,\" Otaru grumbled, her exquisite gray eyes rife with vexation at this creature's astounding impertinence.\n\n\"Perhaps, but it is what I am prepared to offer. If it is acceptable, then I will fulfill your two conditions in return for safe passage and return of the sword,\" Doraux replied unflinchingly, her unblinking gaze set directly on Otaru Ree's majestic face. A tense, expectant silence gathered about the group as Otaru pondered Doraux's uncompromising offer.\n\nSormias burst from the pounding surf and immediately came to hover directly behind Doraux...intent on offering her what protection her could. Otaru fixed him with a crooked grin and quipped disdainfully, \"Golgar, don't presume to challenge an entity to which you are like an annoying gnat. My patience has been worn precariously thin by this impudent, presumptuous woman and it would be ill-advised to irritate me further.\"\n\n\"I have no quarrel with you, keeper,\" Sormias retorted stiffly, \"unless, like your repugnant minions, you intend to do her harm.\"\n\n\"My children are an unruly lot who require frequent lessons in the prevailing disposition of absolute authority,\" Otaru remarked with a cursory shrug of her broad shoulders. \"As for your defiant friend, I have no intention of harming her in the least. Quite the contrary, she shall be granted her two wishes.\"\n\nOtaru returned her piercing gaze to the kneeling Doraux and although her beautiful visage seemed to defy understanding, a hint of malice appeared to ripple in her luminous gray eyes.\n\nThe disconcerting effect reminded Lorio of a shadow moving swiftly beneath the surface of dark waters. _'Whatever gambit Islena intends to play,'_ a voice admonished her gravely, _'it will be you who pays the most exorbitant price.'_\n\nOtaru Ree's next uncompromising declaration brought the dire warning into sharp focus, \"Since you have unilaterally elected to change the terms of our agreement, I shall reciprocate.\"\n\nShe floated over to the kneeling Doraux and looming over her much like the deity she truly was, Ree pronounced, \"By breeching our agreement, you have forfeit the right of choice and selection of payment for the dispensation of passage shall be mine.\"\n\nIslena's eyes widened and her face assumed a pasty hue, but a single glance into those inhuman gray eyes informed Islena that there would be no dissuading Otaru Ree. At that moment, Islena made her first stumbling retreat from her humanity...divorcing herself from the horrible consequences that her intended course of action might eventually yield. She signified her tacit acceptance with a slight nod.\n\nOtaru's unfathomable regard swept over Islena's four land-bound companions and an expression of unconcealed avarice and hunger flared in her lovely eyes as they touched upon a very pregnant Lorio.\n\nIn the next instant, the earth beneath their feet became liquid and the four sank with identical cries of alarm and surprise. The liquid then solidified into stone and Islena's four companions found themselves inextricably trapped in the stone's embrace. They thrashed ineffectively like animals in a snare, but the newly formed stone held them fast.\n\nSormias had no sooner internalized what had befallen his four companions than he found his limbs and torso caught in unbreakable tendrils of gray, elastic extrusions. He unleashed another wave of energy upon the constricting tendrils, but they were fully impervious to its power. A sheet of the elastic substance slapped over the Golgar's face, effectively terminating his outpouring of energy. As Doraux peered on from behind her new mask of impassivity, the frantically struggling Sormias was slowly, but inexorably reeled to ground. His garbled expression of outrage added to the chorus of strident protests that arose from his hopelessly ensnared companions.\n\n\"Every course of action comes with an accompanying price, Islena Doraux,\" Otaru Ree imparted in a somber tone that did not seem to match her overtly hungry expression.\n\n\"Believe me...it's a notion with which I've become well acquainted,\" Islena growled, forcibly ignoring the struggles of those who had sacrificed so much to deliver her to this moment of infamy. Masking her trepidation, Islena rose and lifted her face to Otaru. \"You wished to know my mind. I will throw open the gates and lay my essence bare before you.\" Significantly, she added, \"I will let you stand in judgment of my worth...and my intentions.\"\n\nShe fell to her knees, closed her eyes and inclined her head in an open invitation to the ancient creature. Otaru Ree tentatively extended her left hand, the long fingers of which trembled slightly. Otaru was surprised by the degree of reluctance she was feeling now that the moment was at hand.\n\nAs Ree's fingertips touched Islena's fevered brow, Doraux suddenly threw open the flood gates of her collective consciousness and regurgitated the vast repository of her cumulative memory in one continuous torrent.\n\nOtaru's eyes widened and her body stiffened involuntarily as the full impact of thousands of lives detonated in her mind like an exploding sun. A low moan of pity escaped her lips, when she at last reached the bleak moment of genesis from which the embodied concept of Islena's essence had been granted life.\n\nAstonished...appalled...overwhelmed, Otaru Ree began to withdraw her hand, but Islena coiled her fingers around Ree's massive wrist and held it fast. Then she unleashed her desperate adjuration in a rapid succession of staccato images that slammed into the fabric of the unprepared deity's mind...shaking her entire body with their titanic force.\n\nWhen Islena had delivered her entreaty, she released Ree's wrist and watched in tense anticipation as a beleaguered Otaru reeled away and collapsed to one knee. The two eternal creatures regarded each other and a moment of perfect, unfettered empathy passed between the pair.\n\nAs her four uncomprehending companions bore witness, their expressions oscillating wildly between bewildered confusion and dark awe, an openly discomposed Otaru murmured, \"Such flagrant audacity. Should your gamble prove ill-conceived, my realm will be filled to bursting with those who will suffer the repercussions of your misjudgment.\"\n\n\"Nonetheless, I would see my request granted,\" Islena exhorted without the slightest discernable hesitation. Otaru continued to regard Doraux with her disconcertingly frank gaze of appraisal, seeking the slightest hint of vacillation that would warrant her denial of the piteous creature's plea.\n\nSeeing none, Ree nodded and rising on unsteady legs, drew herself to her full daunting height and extended her right arm. A discordant whine broke the expectant silence, rising to intolerable levels that threatened to shatter the eardrums of all who suffered it. With coruscating waves of red and silver washing the horizons to herald its arrival, the Dragonsword came streaking over the northern horizon. It slapped into Otaru Ree's outstretched palm and flared a blinding vermillion. With her arm still extended, she floated across the expanse of listless earth and with stiff formality, declared, \"I return this to you...its rightful owner...Daughter of the Tempest.\"\n\nWith equal gravitas, Islena rose and accepted the Icon, which burst into a pulsing blaze of pure energy that Islena realized was in perfect syncopation with her thundering heart.\n\n\"Bury it in the bitch's heart, Islena!\" Lorio implored frantically, her expression one of expectant triumph, which rapidly turned to confused incredulity and plummeting despair when Islena offered Otaru Ree a deep bow of gratitude.\n\n\"I leave the rest to you and place my faith in your honor,\" Islena intoned solemnly. Otaru Ree acknowledged this with a single emphatic nod. Sparing the perplexed Artumas a brief glance, Doraux turned on heel and began to stride purposefully toward the southern horizon.\n\nShe gritted her teeth and closed her mind to the strident cries and angry epithets that hounded her once the four gleaned her intentions.\n\nGillian and Artumas exchanged grave looks of deep concern, while a horrified Arminda simply buried her face in her hands and began to sob miserably.\n\nOf course it was Lorio's reaction that had the most profound affect upon Islena, very nearly causing her resolve to falter. \"That's it, you craven bitch...crawl back to your mistress and lick her boots like the dog you are. If I ever set eyes upon you again, Islena...I'm going to kill you...or you're going to have to kill me! Do you hear me, you traitorous, cowardly bitch...I'm going to kill you!\"\n\nThat fraught promise pursued Islena like a pack of snapping hounds, until she stepped over the line of demarcation, where it was abruptly cut off. With her vision distorted into a fractured mosaic by free falling tears, Islena chanced a single backward glance and saw the four gesturing frantically, sporting varying expressions of wounded confusion...and in the case of Lorio, unconstrained hatred.\n\nDoraux gasped in horror when she saw that Otaru Ree was now hovering directly behind the Lamish beauty, who...in her fixation upon Islena...was oblivious to the entity's ominous presence. The apparent implications of this threatened to obliterate Islena's resolve, so she quickly averted her gaze and began to sprint away for the insufferable image as fast as her trembling legs could carry her.\n\nHere ends the third part of Islena Doraux's Journey through the Land of Shades. The Story will conclude in A Fallible Goddess and the Enduring Sorrow.\n\nDRAMATIS PERSONAE\n\nIslena Doraux: Daughter of the Tempest\n\nArtumas: Champion of Light, deposed king of Emercia\n\nLorio: Lamish immortal\n\nYnthrax: Former commander of Myrhia's Emercian Imperial Army\n\nEmian: Metocan Mage\n\nArminda: Jerhia Soldier, quest member\n\nMyrhia: Mother of Iniquity, Queen of Emercia\n\nPerdwick: Occupied City on the eastern continent\n\nThe Blighted Lands: Waste land on the northern fringe of the eastern continent\n\nGreat Mother: A seemingly bottomless chasm separating the western and eastern continents\n\nUlgak: A province of Metocan\n\nOthgol: Capital of Metocan\n\nMetocan: One of the CornerStone Nations. A society of magic wielders\n\nCerindyn: Emercian soldiers, quest member\n\nNymal: Emercian soldier, quest member\n\nRunesholm Abbey: An abandoned abbey in the Blighted Lands\n\nSormias: Golgar, quest member\n\nGolgar: A sentient species of winged immortals\n\nInos: Grand Mage of Metocan\n\nMaroc: Maxim Tier Marshall of Jerhia\n\nJerhia: One of the CornerStone Nations. A militaristic society\n\nBaldasoran: Putative leader of Myrhia's mercenary army\n\nMorzhian: Former Elder of Natzurdan\n\nNatzurdan: A CornerStone Nation, society of earth lore wielders.\n\nAdriatus: Commander of Myrhia's Imperial Expeditionary Force\n\nAmberdias: Capital of Natzurdan\n\nBen Richards: Husband of Islena Doraux\n\nSygeanor: Ulgak, powerful sorcerer\n\nMascius: Metocan academic, advisor to Inos\n\nBastronen: Village in Ulgak\n\nXkador: Metocan, member of the Inner Circle\n\nJerrod: Metocan, member of the Inner Circle\n\nTokizar: Metocan, member of the Inner Circle\n\nBrazol: Metocan, member of the Inner Circle\n\nIythyx: A naturally occurring anomaly located in the mountains of Western Jerhia\n\nMaktir: Elder of Natzurdan, successor to Morzhian\n\nDrayulryk: A malefic specter in the Land of Shades\n\nOtaru Ree: Deity with the dominion over the Land of Shades\n\nZarcyk: Lamish ceremonial dagger...the word actually means edge of the soul\n\nSherak: A fast breaking winter storms that is common in the Blighted Lands\n\nKevlan: Metocan Mage\n\nDamosta: Tier Marshall commanding the Jerhia refugees in Iythyx\n\nDornsark: A small abbey in the Blighted Lands\n\nJlarin: Keeper of the shore\n\nRamad: Elder of the island people\n\nMuragren: Former Fairmarch academic, slave in the mines of Redia\n\nPrazharn: Chief Overseer at the Redian Mine where Muragren is enslaved\n\nGhordrian: Clan Chief of Elderspire, father of Ynathreen\n\nYnathreen: Daughter of Ghordrian, future Queen of Redia\n\nGuinevere: A past incarnation of the Daughter of the Tempest\n\nAgraria: A past incarnation of the Daughter of the Tempest\n\nMargarus: Jerhia Captain and adjutant to Maroc\n\nCauldanys: Jerhia scout attached to Maroc's Redian Expeditionary Force\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\ndwkthedogbreaths@gmail.com\n\nISBN: 9781311313447\n\nA Boy Out in Africa\n\nThe true story of a Gay teenager\n\nGrowing up in the seventies, presented here with\n\nLady Mandrax\n\nAnd other stories\n\nCopyright: David William Kirby: 2011\n\nThe Dogbreaths Publishing\n\n©2011 all rights reserved\n\nSmashwords Edition Licensing Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n©2011 all rights reserved\n\n1\n\nI guess my first experience of seduction was initiated by (what in today's parlance would be called) a Paedophile; but this was the early seventies when such words were not in the common language. I was pre-pubescent when it first happened and Uncle Dick was a friend of the family. He would regularly drink with my father into the early hours of the morning. Dad cared that his pal should not drive home, having drunk huge amounts of alcohol, and he was given the spare mattress in my little bed room to sleep it off.\n\nI wonder how they would have felt if they knew he was not only making use of the\n\nspare bed during these drunken sleepovers and was regularly\n\nfilling his stinking gob with me.\n\nThis went on for three lusty years.\n\nI would be asleep at first and the feeling of the cold sheets parting would gently rouse\n\nme from my dreams. The touch of his foot against my small back was electrifying.\n\nIt was never frightening. It was strangely exciting; something different to the hum-\n\ndrum of daily existence; intoxicating and dreamlike. I remember feeling his foot\n\nstroking up and down my smooth legs and stopping at my underwear.\n\nIn silence I would turn onto my back, he'd climb from his bed in the shadows, and sit over me. I remember being impressed by the size of his dick and the frothy growth of pubic hair around his crotch; something I'd not yet developed.\n\nWe would never speak. He'd kiss me gently and slip my underwear down before\n\nstimulating me with his tongue in a slow act of rhythmic sex. I'd feel his warm\n\norgasm on my belly after his breathless exertions and he'd then silently go back to his\n\nown bed.\n\nLater in my life a colleague went to great lengths to explain that I was being sexually\n\nabused by a predatory paedophile. Well, whatever it was called, I enjoyed it. Perhaps it was the attention, being made to feel special by an adult, perhaps the secretive nature of our relationship excited me; I don't know; but I was willing to passively engage without any negative psychological impact.\n\nWhenever I saw him during waking hours he'd not pay me particular attention but\n\nevery now and then I'd catch a certain look in his eye; that secretive look that made me feel special.\n\nI'd know that he'd be staying over and eventually, once a routine had been\n\nestablished, I'd not bother going to sleep. I'd wait until I heard my parents wishing\n\nhim a good night and I knew that he was going to get one..\n\nWe never had penetrative sex; I didn't even know that this was possible and thinking\n\nabout it I guess I didn't even consider what we did as sex. It was more about pleasuring ourselves; experiencing grown up games like adults. I was growing up and he was showing me how.\n\nWhen I read about the terms of imprisonment men get for doing this sort of thing today I wonder at it. I guess if he hurt me or fucked me every time he stayed over it would be different.\n\nWhat we were doing didn't seem wrong; it still doesn't; although it's not something that I'd feel comfortable repeating and I certainly do not condone sex with children. I personally don't consider children sexual beings and they do nothing for me; neither should they. Uncle Dick was different, sex with him was different; it was the seventies for god's sake.\n\nI couldn't relate to anyone in my school and spent more time walking about the streets during school hours then actually in class. When I was fourteen I was a skinny, gangling creature, with long black hair past my shoulders(in the style of Johnny Thunders); who looked odd in a shirt and tie. Consequently I'd leave home in the morning with a change of clothes instead of school books. I then go to a friend's house and change out of my uniform and into some tight jeans and tee-shirt. With a touch of mascara and a floppy hat I'd be set up for the day.\n\nWe often went to the West End of London and hang about in the music shops. It was during one of these trips that I learned of the all-nighter's that used to happen every Friday evening at the Lyceum in The Strand. We just had to go.\n\nNo one ever questioned our age and at midnight the doors would open and in we'd go.\n\nTwo fourteen year olds in a crowd of transvestites and drugged up hippies did not seem odd back then. Drugs were fashionable in those days and the evening would start with a handful of French blues, the 70s equivalent of ecstasy, a tab of acid and loads of joints. As the evening progressed people would give us lines of cocaine and speed making the night fade into a trippy blur by 6am when the place would close.\n\nI remember seeing a band called Cockney Rebel who, during a rendition of their amazing track \"Sebastian\", were having problems with their equipment. A firm pair of hands slipped around my hips and a soft voice rang out in my ear.\n\n\"Fancy a bit of how's ya' father?\" He asked above the noise of the band.\n\n\"How's ya'father?\" I stuttered slightly nervously. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Come here and I'll show you.\"\n\nWith that I was led to a first floor toilet and, for the first time in my life, fucked rotten\n\nover the smelly toilet system. I remember he'd used the margarine from the inside of a\n\nham roll as a lubricant before taking a bite of the roll and flushing it down the toilet.\n\nAlthough this did the trick it left me feeling sticky and I was glad to get home. It was\n\nafter this not so passionate misadventure that I discovered that after anal sex one must\n\ndo a motion to clear one's bowel. If not, as I found out much to my distress, a fart could\n\nmean the end for a new pair of trousers.\n\nAs I waddled in through the front door in the early hours with legs akimbo and\n\nstreaked eyeliner smeared across my face I remember my mother coming down the\n\nstairs and saying \"Are you up already?\"\n\n\"Yes Mum.\" I stuttered as I climbed the stairs past her towards the bathroom.\n\n\"Oh, it's nice to see you up and about so early on a Saturday morning.\"\n\nIf only she knew.\n\n\"I've been talking to your Father and he wants us to join him in South Africa.\"\n\nThis was not what I wanted to hear. Daddy had decided that he could make more\n\nmoney in the Apartheid driven South Africa and had gone there to check this out a\n\ncouple of weeks previously. Being under 16 years of age I didn't have a choice and\n\nsoon after hearing this earth shattering statement we were off.\n\nSouth Africa was shunned by the rest of the world during the seventies and they\n\nwelcomed families like ours with open arms. I was too young to understand the\n\npolitics of the time and all I knew was what the adults around me told me.\n\n\"Keep out of the black townships.\" They'd say menacingly.\n\n\"They kill white people on sight.\"\n\nBeing young I believed them although I didn't understand why anyone would want to\n\nkill me. Colour didn't seem that important to me although it was extremely important\n\nto South Africans. The black people I saw were either very sad looking, with dusty\n\nold suits and downtrodden expressions or tribal, in bright fabrics, beads and no shoes. White\n\npeople generally, adults that is, looked like they all drank too much, got too much sun\n\nand wore ill-fitting \"Safari\" suits.\n\nI soon discovered that white South African's spent all weekends sitting at home\n\nhaving briars. This was what we'd call Barbecues. Meat was cheap and so was booze\n\nand I soon was bored eating burnt steak and watching my parents and their friends\n\ngetting pissed.\n\n\"Is there anywhere I can go out to meet other young people?\" I asked one friend of the\n\nfamily on a blistering hot Saturday.\n\n\"Church.\" The person replied sincerely. \"In South Africa young people go to church at\n\nweekends. Boy, do they have fun.\"\n\nChurch was not my sort of fun and I couldn't imagine what was enjoyable about\n\nsinging for forgiveness and praying for God's guidance.\n\nI decided that I'd get dressed up and go into the centre of Cape Town and see if\n\nanything was going on beside begging for holy intervention. I'd already discovered\n\nthat no-one had heard of the New York Dolls or Johnny Thunders so I didn't back-\n\ncomb my long black hair; deciding it might be better to dress down on this one\n\noccasion.\n\nCape Town was a very pretty town although it covered a vast area and there were few\n\nbusses. I stood at the side of the dusty road and stuck a thumb out. It wasn't long\n\nbefore a van pulled up and two guys told me to jump in. Sitting in the back of the\n\nhumid vehicle. beads of sweat began to collect on my forehead and my hair felt damp.\n\nI could hear the guys talking and my long hair seemed to be immensely interesting to\n\nthem.\n\n\"Are you a morphy?\" The one who was driving asked casually looking at me intently\n\nin the rear view mirror.\n\n\"No,\" I answered not really understanding the question. \"I come from London.\"\n\nThey laughed and one said \"That explains it.\" As we drove further towards the base of\n\nTable Mountain the sun began to set over the huge edifice, casting long shadows and\n\ngiving it a blue hue.\n\nThe twinkling lights in the distance became more apparent as the night began to set\n\nupon us. Cape Town glimmered in the crest of the mountain like a magical, fairy\n\ngrotto and the darker it became the more magical it appeared.\n\nI looked towards the two guys who were wearing big smiles and seemed very relaxed\n\ntogether, like brothers or friends that had known each other for a long time.\n\nI heard them discussing \"Morphys\".\n\n\"I've seen the outside that club, Wings.\" The younger one said.\" My God, they pluck\n\ntheir eyebrows and shave their arms.\"\n\n\"How can men do that to themselves.\" The older one replied.\n\nWhen they dropped me off in town I stopped the first person I found and said \"Do you\n\nknow how I can get to Wings nightclub?\"\n\nThe old black man wrinkled up his nose shook his head. His shoes were worn and his\n\nsuit had holes in it. I looked into his eyes and for a moment I thought he wanted to ask\n\nme something, then suddenly, the moment went, he changed his mind and walked on.\n\nCape Town wasn't that big, just four or five main streets running alongside one\n\nanother and a bus station, and empty flower market and a hotel. It didn't take too long\n\nfor me to see the whole of it and I couldn't find anything that looked like a night club.\n\nIt was dark now and a chill had replaced the heat on those wide empty streets. I\n\ndecided to try to hitch back to Milnerton where by now my parents would have\n\ndrunken themselves into a stupor. It was about ten p.m. and quiet, there wasn't a lot of\n\ncars on the roads or people, it felt like I had the whole city to myself.\n\nFinding the main route back to Milnerton I stuck my thumb out again. Then, like an\n\nangel descending from heaven I saw a sight that would change my Southern African\n\nexperience forever.\n\nStumbling along the road came a vision of beauty. He was about five feet tall. Dark\n\nskinned with a thick moustache underlining his button nose. Wearing only a green\n\nsatin dress with high heels on the end of each very hairy leg, he stumbled towards me\n\nholding a half bottle of rum.\n\n\"Hello Girl.\" He hissed as we met.\" Are you going to the Shabeen?\" whatever that\n\nwas.\n\n\"Of course.\" I stuttered not believing what fate had delivered to me.\n\n\"Well don't just stand there, Girl, stick a leg out.\"\n\nWith that he pulled up his hem and flashed a hairy leg towards the passing cars. Very\n\nsoon one came to a halt a few feet away. We both run to the car and climbed in. I sat\n\nbehind the driver who was a fat, balding, middle aged man who seemed to be\n\nsweating profusely.\n\n\"Where too Ladies?\" He hissed looking down at my new friend's hairy legs as he\n\nslipped into the passenger seat.\n\n\"District Six please Love.\" The green dress replied.\n\n\"Oh, I'm not going there, I'll be attacked.\"\n\n\"Don't be silly,\" Green dress laughed. \"We'll look after you, won't we love.\" He\n\nturned and gave me a wink.\n\n\"Oh, I suppose it'll be okay if I drop you off.\" he huffed mesmerised by the hairy legs\n\nas they protruded from under the green, silk hem.\n\n\"What are your names?\"\n\n\"I'm Madame Palari...\" The green dress giggled . \"...and this is my good friend\n\nLucinda.\"\n\nFatty drove slowly through the empty streets. I noticed that every now and then he'd\n\nreach out and stroke Madam's leg; this seemed to happen whenever the green dress\n\ntook a swig from the rum bottle he was jealously guarding. Each furtive grope was\n\nmet with a quick slap across the wrist.\n\n\"If you want Madam Palari's snatch it'll cost more than a lift to District six.\" The\n\ngreen dress said abruptly before looking around and giving me a mischievous wink.\n\n\"Don't be like that.\" Fatty hissed. \"I could be useful to a young girl like you; I could\n\nhelp you go far.\"\n\n\"This is far enough.\" Madam cried, suddenly pulling up the hand brake. He opened the\n\npassenger door and just before he fell out of the vehicle, looked back and shouted theatrically.\n\n\"Come Lucinda, we've arrived.\"\n\nHe slammed the car door so hard that I thought the glass would break.\n\n\"Go on you fat bastard,\" He shouted at the driver. \"You can go now. If you want to be\n\nreally useful get back here at 4 am and you can take us home.\"\n\nMadame took my arm to steady himself and smiled as the car drove away.\n\n\"Did you know him?\" I asked excitedly.\n\n\"No,\" He smiled. \"But men are just suckers for a bit of bare leg. Let's go.\"\n\n\"Where are we?\"\n\n\"This is a black township just on the outskirts of Cape Town.\" My friend explained with a slurred smile.\n\n\"Not a lot goes on here but every Saturday they have a wicked party. It's totally illegal but they're always the best ones, aren't they?\"\n\n\"I've not got any money?\" I said expecting my new friend to gasp in horror and drop me like a hot potato.\n\n\"Neither have I.\" He laughed. \"But we've got what money can't buy.\"\n\n\"What's that?\" I asked.\n\n\"We've got youth and beauty. It's all you need in this town.\"\n\nHe was right. We entered an old building that looked derelict and run down but as we\n\nclimbed the stairs other people appeared and soon we were in a small queue and the\n\nsound of disco music filled the air.\n\nAs we got to the front of the queue a huge black bouncer stood to one side and we were\n\nin. It didn't take me long to notice that I was the only white face in the hall but I\n\ndidn't feel uncomfortable. How could I? Seeing all those smiling faces and sexy\n\nwomen dancing like their lives depended upon it just felt wonderful; hell, it was wonderful.\n\nMadame took me around and introduced me to everyone he knew. Each one either\n\ngave me a drink or passed me a bottle to swig from and soon I was so pissed I\n\ncouldn't stand. The last thing I remember was being between two beautiful black women as they rubbed themselves against me in time with the throbbing music.\n\nI came around in a daze the next morning in bed with a young Asian man I didn't\n\nrecognize.\n\n\"Do I know you?\" I asked softly.\n\n\"You should do darling,\" He smiled. \"I'm your husband.\"\n\nThe boy got out of bed and left the room playing with his hair. I looked around the room and asked no one in particular.\n\n\"Where are we?\"\n\nAs these words left my lips I saw the familiar, moustachioed face of Madam rise from\n\nunder the bed sheets between my feet.\n\n\"You've come home with us.\" Madam slurred obviously still drunk from the previous\n\nevening.\n\n\"That's Owen, my brother.\"\n\n\"It's true...\" Owen smiled coming into the room with his hair up in a towel. \"Mother\n\nhad two boys and they're both queer. Oliver is the older of the two of us.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's your name?\" I said, realizing that I was naked I looked around for my\n\nunderwear.\n\n\"I suppose you're looking for them...\" Oliver said pointing to my underpants that were\n\nironed and on top of a small pile of clean clothes.\n\n\"Mummy's good at laundry and she's been up all night scrubbing the skid marks out.\"\n\n\"Take no notice of him.\" Owen said. \"She's never had a white person in her house and\n\nwanted to do something special for you. As she's only ever known service she thought doing\n\nyour laundry would be the best thing.\"\n\nJust then the door opened and two old women looked in. They both had their hair hidden\n\nunder black coloured hjibs, as Muslim women call the scarves around their heads, and\n\nwere dressed all in black. The two women giggled and smiled at each other, bowing\n\ntheir heads towards me.\n\n\"Mummy...\" Owen stuttered. \"Take Auntie into the other room.\" He looked towards me\n\nand laughed. \"They can't believe a white boy is in my bed; we'll have the whole street in\n\nhere in a minute, you wait and see.\"\n\n\"Where am I?\"\n\n\"We're still in District Six, it's the closest township to Cape town and quite desirable\n\namongst us cape coloureds.\"\n\n\"It's a cockroach infested rat trap.\" Oliver interjected. \"They say they are going to\n\nbulldoze the whole lot next year. You wouldn't get any white people wanting to live\n\nhere; no, it's only good enough for us coloured people.\"\n\n\"Coloured?\" I said. \"Don't you mean Asian?\"\n\n\"You're in South Africa now you know, dear...\" Owen sniffed as he brushed his thick\n\nblack hair.\n\n\"...everyone is put into their own, neat little racial box.\n\nNow, because we look like we're from India we're called coloured, it would be the same\n\nif I was the product of a stupid white Boer farmer and his idiot black servant girl. You know\n\nhalf cast. We'd still be coloured, not white, not black; we're coloured.\"\n\n\"It's true.\" Oliver smiled dragging himself from the bed we'd all shared. \"If my daddy\n\nwas a fat Boer and mummy a dumb Bantu servant girl I'd not be allowed to live with\n\neither of them.\"\n\n\"It's true!\" Owen smiled sweetly. \"The law says that Coloureds have to live with\n\ncoloureds, Bantu with Bantu and white with white. District Six is a coloured area and\n\nso it's slightly better than other townships; like the ones that are allocated to Bantu only.\n\nHere we have electricity and running water. The Bantu have to collect their water\n\nfrom stand pipes and use candles.\"\n\n\"We used to live in the Malayan Quarter, just under the mountain, and it was really beautiful...\"Oliver announced wistfully . \"...that's when we were little kids. But Mummy and the others made the houses look so beautiful the area was re-designated as whites only.\"\n\n\"So we had to move here.\" Owen added. \"Have you ever heard such a thing, a Malayan Quarter for whites only? It's pathetic.\"\n\n\"Wow.\" I said in disbelief. \"Why do you put up with it?\"\n\n\"Oh, you're so naive.\" Owen smiled. \"You know the police shoot you on sight out\n\nhere if you say anything they don't like. So my dear, we just have to put up with it.\"\n\n\"Not for much longer.\" Oliver said picking up his now crumpled green dress and\n\ndropping it in disgust. He put on a pair of jeans and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.\n\n\"The school kids are organizing a march. You must come and show some support. It's\n\nthis Saturday.\"\n\nJust then Auntie looked into the bed room and said something in a language I didn't\n\nunderstand.\n\n\"Aunties cooked us some eggs...\" Owen said pulling on a bright shirt.\n\n\"Would you like some?\"\n\n\"Yes please. \" I replied pulling on my underpants and getting up from the bed.\n\nWhen I was dressed I followed the boys into the kitchen and noted sadly that it was\n\npretty dilapidated. They had cooked from a gas ring that was connected to a gas bottle\n\nbut the back door was open and the strong sun light brightened the room up.\n\nThe back yard looked like an allotment with all sorts of vegetables growing in neat rows and I saw a couple of chickens out there, so the eggs were going to be fresh.\n\nI sat at the table and a plate of fried eggs and tomatoes were placed in front of me.\n\nThe boy's mother, who was very old and frail, said something to the Auntie who then\n\nrepeated it to the boys.\n\n\"Mummy wants to know how old you are?\" Oliver said stuffing bread into his mouth.\n\n\"I'm fourteen.\" I said simply. \"How old are you.\"\n\nOliver spat out a mouthful of tea and bread then screamed. \"Oh fuck, Jail bait.\"\n\nMummy and Auntie then seemed to have a mad conversation and I guessed they were\n\nasking the boy's what I'd said.\n\n\"Don't tell them,\" Owen said anxiously before turning to me and saying. \"We've never\n\nhad sex okay, never.\"\n\n\"Why did we?\" I replied.\n\n\"That's right,\" He stuttered. \"Just keep that up.\"\n\n\"You're very tall aren't you?\" Oliver added. \"When are you fifteen?\"\n\n\"In July.\" I replied. Both boys looked at each other and grimaced. \"Don't worry. I\n\nwon't say anything. How old are you?\"\n\n\"I'm sixteen,\" Owen replied. \"And she's nineteen\"\n\nThey then spoke to the old women in Afrikaans and when they were suitably reassured\n\nOwn smiled.\n\n\"I'd better take you to the train station, you're parents must be missing you?\"\n\n\"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"But haven't they put you in school yet?\"\n\n\"You're joking.\" I replied. \"I've not been to school for about a year. The last time I\n\nwent in they told me to leave because I had blue mascara on. I don't think they liked\n\nthe colour.\"\n\n\"What are you like?\" Owen laughed \"Come on, I'll show you how to get home safely.\"\n\nAs we left the house I became aware that the other people in the street were looking at\n\nme although I didn't feel uncomfortable.\n\nI'd got used to this growing up in Dagenham and being the only boy in the area who'd\n\nshaved off his eyebrows.(Being a fan of David Bowie in the seventies meant doing\n\nthings like that).\n\n\"You can get a train from here to Milnerton.\" Owen said as we stopped outside the\n\nstation.\n\n\"Thanks.\" I said. \"Will I be able to see you again?\n\n\"Yes, of course.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\nHe thought about this for a while. \"Come to Main Street on Friday night, by the flower\n\nmarket. I'll wait for you about ten o'clock. Do you think your folks will mind?\"\n\n\"No, I'll see you there.\" I said with a smile. Owen looked about cautiously and since\n\nwe were unobserved leaned forwards and kissed me on the cheek.\n\n\"Friday it is then.\"\n\nWhen I got home I found Mother in the garden pruning the roses. She gave me a wave\n\nas I came down the road.\n\n\"You went out early, she smiled. \"You father's at work and I made you some lunch,\n\nit's in the fridge.\"\n\n\"Thanks\" I said kissing her on the cheek.\n\nThe next couple of days went quickly and soon Friday arrived. At around nine o'clock\n\nI was ready to go out. South Africa only had one TV channel at that time and it was\n\non for eight hours a day. The first four hours were in English and the second four\n\nhours were a repeat of the first but with everything dubbed into Afrikaans. By then\n\nboth my parents would be very drunk and it was no different this night.\n\nI came into the lounge just to see them getting ready for bed.\n\n\"Are you going to watch that shit?\" Dad said nodding towards the TV.\n\n\"I thought I would.\" I lied.\n\n\"Well make sure you take the plug out.\" Mother added as they went down the hall to\n\nthe bed room.\n\nI waited a short while and let myself out the house quietly. The street outside was\n\nempty and silent although it was very hot. It seemed the whole neighbourhood went to\n\nbed at nine o'clock even at weekends; except me that is.\n\nI made my way to the main road and stuck out my thumb. It wasn't long before I saw the\n\nheadlights of a car in the distance coming towards me and as it approached I saw a\n\nmiddle aged man driving. He made eye contact and pulled over.\n\n\"Can you take me to main street?\" I asked.\n\n\"Sure, get in.\"\n\nWe drove on for a while before the man said. \"You're British aren't you?\"\n\n\"Yha,\" I replied. \"My father's out here on business and I had to come along.\"\n\n\"How are you finding Cape Town?\" He said taking his eyes off the road momentarily.\n\n\"Pretty boring.\" I replied. \"There's not a lot going on here is there and the TV is crap.\"\n\n\"Oh, you'll get used to that.\"\n\nI noticed he'd pulled off the main road into one of the backstreets.\n\n\"I've just got to get some fuel.\" He said noticing that I'd become aware of the\n\ndiversion. We drove for a short while before pulling up in the drive of a small house.\n\n\"Come on in.\" He said. \"It won't take a minute, I've got some in a can in the garage.\"\n\nI followed him into the house and we stood awkwardly in a small lounge. It was\n\nnicely furnished with a thick carpet on the floor.\n\nThe man left me there for a moment and when I saw him again he had two towels. He\n\nfolded one across his shoulder and laid the other out on the floor.\n\n\"Lay there.\" He said. I don't know why I complied but I did without question; it wasn't as if I fancied him or anything like that but I did what he said. He undid my trousers and pulled them down\n\nto my knees. My underwear went the same way and I looked up just in time to see\n\nhim tugging at his belt.\n\nI closed my eyes and lay there as he sucked my cock. I waited for him to finish what he was doing. very soon I heard him gasp and, using the towel from his shoulder, mopped up his come. He\n\nstood and said simply.\n\n\"Get dressed.\"\n\nSoon we were back in the car and heading back towards Main Street. Not another\n\nword passed our lips and as his car pulled up in the bus garage he opened his wallet\n\nand gave me a twenty Rand note.\n\n\"Get yourself a cab home.\" He whispered pushing the note into my palm. \"Cape Town\n\ncan be dangerous for a young boy at night.\"\n\nI got out the car and walked swiftly away. The experience didn't particularly frighten\n\nme but it was unexpected and I tried not to think about it again. It was a relief to find\n\nOwen waiting for me by the flower market as we'd arranged.\n\n\"I thought you'd not be coming.\" He smiled as I walked towards him. \"It's getting so\n\nlate.\"\n\n\"I got held up.\" I said simply. \"So, what shall we do now?\"\n\n\"I'm going to introduce you to my friends.\" He said excitedly. \"You will love these girls;\n\nthey're simply fantastic; then we're going to Boudwan's.\"\n\n\"Is that a club?\" I asked.\n\n\"What are you like.\" He laughed.\" Boudwan is this very nice white man. He fat but\n\nfantastically rich. When I told him you were fourteen he laughed and demanded that I\n\nbring you to him. You wait, you'll love him. But first let me introduce you to the\n\ngirls.\"\n\nWe walked along Main Street and turned into a dark alley that ran alongside. I saw a\n\ngroup of women standing in a group at one end and as we got closer one of them\n\nscreamed.\n\n\"Owen, you old queen, you.\"\n\nIn the twilight I saw that in fact the group of women were transvestites. They were all Cape Coloured and wearing the most outrageous costumes. One had a fishnet one-piece and suspenders going down to fish-net stockings and high heels. Another had a Basque and suspenders. One other was wearing just bra and panties with a pair of socks, acting as breasts, poking out from beneath the bra.\n\n\"Who's the chicken?\" The one who approached us asked giving me the once over.\n\n.\n\n\"This is my good friend David.\" Owen replied. \"He's from England.\"\n\n\"Charmed, I'm sure.\" The tranny said kissing my hand. \"I can see you'll earn a bomb\n\nout here.\"\n\n\"Don't be silly\" Owen laughed. \"We're not working. I just wanted him to meet you;\n\nwhat will you be doing later?\"\n\n\"Oh, if I get three punters tonight darling I'll be strutting my ass off at Wings. How\n\nabout you?\"\n\n\"Will they let coloureds in there now?\" Owen asked.\n\n\"They'll let us in dear, we're party people.\"\n\nJust then a car pulled up and the \"girls\" looked over toward the driver. The one who'd been talking to us put her hands on her hips and shouted.\n\n\"Business darling? I'll give you a night to remember.\"\n\nShe turned to me and whispered. \"Once I get his money I'll run off, believe me, he'll\n\nremember that\"\n\n\"Oh, It's Boudwan.\" Owen cried seeing the man in the rear seat wind down his\n\nwindow and wave.. \"Come David, Boudwan's come to pick us up.\"\n\nAs we walked away the girls all cooed and the one who had been talking to us\n\nshouted\n\n\"See you at Wings, oh and bring your chicken with you, I'll get to know him later; I adore the taste of chicken after a night drinking.\"\n\nWe left the group of trannies and walked excitedly towards the car. It was only when I\n\ngot closer that I saw it was a Rolls Royce. As we approached the black, driver dressed\n\nin gray a uniform and peeked cap, opened the back door for us. A fat, balding middle\n\naged man leaned out; he was wearing huge gold rings on each fat finger and cooed\n\neagerly.\n\n\"Owen, so this is your new friend....\"\n\nWe went to Boudwan's house which was situated just outside Cape Town in the\n\nMillionaires district of Constantia. It was a two story house at the end of a long gravel\n\ndrive and was by the far the nicest house I'd ever seen.\n\nIvy covered one side and the sweet smell of honeysuckle swept across the dark manicured lawn into cool rooms. With their marble floors and mirrored walls I felt like it was a scene from a fantastic\n\nfilm.\n\n\"You're a pretty boy.\" Boudwan smiled as we went into the house followed by a valet.\n\n\"I can't wait to introduce you to Dick.\"\n\nI'd heard that one before. I almost expected Boudwan to lead us straight the bedrooms.\n\nInstead we went into a spacious room on the ground floor which was very\n\ncomfortably furnished with deep cushions spread over puffed up chairs. The valet stood\n\ndiscreetly in one corner next to a huge white piano.\n\n\"Bring the boys some drinks.\" Boudwan smiled. \"What would you like David, you\n\npretty little, young thing; a soft drink perhaps or something a little harder?\" He smiled\n\nand wobbled his chins flirtatiously.\n\n\"A beer will do.\" I said nervously having never been in such lavish settings before and\n\nwanting to do the right thing.\n\n\"You know what I want.\" Owen smiled.\n\n\"I should do by now my little flower. Bring the boy a whiskey.\" Boudwan sniffed as\n\nhe sunk into a leather armchair.\n\nThe valet opened a huge mirrored door and behind it was a whole bar full of every\n\ntype of drink. As he made himself busy a pair of double doors at the far end of the\n\nroom opened and a young coloured boy walked in. He was wearing a silk bask and\n\nlong red stockings.\n\n\"Oh Rudi.\" Boudwan smiled. \"Come and meet my guests.\"\n\n\"Did you get my wig you fat, Flemish bastard?\" Rudi quipped with a smile. At this\n\npoint Boudwan opened a box which he'd been carrying and pulled out a blond wig\n\nthat shimmered in the light. It was around three feet long, dead straight until the end\n\nwhich exploded into a crest of shimmering curls.\n\n\"Oh divine.\" Rudi hissed. \"Let me have it.\"\n\nHe pulled on the wig and then proceeded to prance about the room pulling the most\n\namusing faces; like a model up on his own imaginary cat walk. He pranced here and pranced there, up and down, a pose here and a pose there. Eventually he ended up spread across the bar with one leg cocked daintily in the air. The valet averted his gaze with the utmost discretion.\n\n\"Oh, he's such a queen.\" Owen hissed.\n\n\"Who is he?\" I whispered discretely towards Owen.\n\n\"It's Boudwan's boy friend. They've been together for ages.\"\n\n\"What's your name white boy?\" Rudi hissed slipping onto the sofa beside me.\n\n\"David. \"I replied softly.\n\n\"Don't be shy,\" He smiled stroking his long fingers up my leg. He puffed up the wig\n\nand fluttered his long eye lashes.\n\n\"We're all friends around here...\"\n\n\"Stop winding the boy up.\" Boudwan laughed. \"You'll have to excuse Rudi, he's high\n\non life.\"\n\n\"I've noticed.\"\n\n\"Don't you think Dick will be able to do marvellous things with those hips?\" Boudwan sniffed as the valet furnished him with another vodka.\n\n\"I'm sure he will.\" Rudi hissed. \"When is the old pouf arriving?\"\n\nHe turned to me and whispered\n\n\"I won't say coming because he can't get it up anymore.\"\n\n\"He should have been here already.\" Boudwan replied. \"We were going to eat before\n\ngoing to the club. Is food ready?\" He asked the valet through the side of his mouth.\n\n\"Yes Sir.\" The valet nodded. \"Cook has a buffet in the music room.\"\n\n\"Well let's not wait. Come on boys, I'm famished.\"\n\nHe led us into the hall and into another room at the end. It was sparsely furnished with\n\na huge window overlooking the garden draped in purple silks with a grand piano in\n\nthe corner overlooking the window.\n\n\"Boudwan's loaded.\" Owen smiled leading me to the food which was laid out upon a\n\nhuge table. Each silver platter had what looked like a work of art set into it; but instead\n\nof paints the colours were constructed of crab and chicken, pasta and pastry.\n\n\"It looks beautiful.\" I said having never seen such a spread before except perhaps in\n\nthe pages of a magazine.\n\n\"Yes cook's very talented.\" Boudwan sniffed filling up a paper plate with a selection\n\nof meats and salad. \"I brought her from Gent with me.\"\n\n\"Is that where you're from?\" I smiled not having a clue where Gent was.\"\n\n\"Yes, my dear boy.\"\n\n\"It's in Belgium.\" Rudi said turning his nose up at the food and strolling over to the\n\npiano. I was surprised to see him sit at the stool and play the most haunting melody.\n\n\"Do you like Sarti?\" Boudwan asked pushing a whole chicken leg into his mouth\n\nleaving a trail of mayonnaise dripping to his chins.\n\n\"Rudi's very talented. If he was in Europe he'd be a concert pianist but in South Africa the talent is not nurtured; it's all about race here you know.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" I said softly hearing the soft tinkling echo about the room like a spell to entrance\n\nme. \"It's not fair is it?\"\n\nSuddenly the doors were flung astride and the valet appeared.\n\n\"It's Mr. Richard, Sir.\"\n\n\"Show him in.\" Boudwan said through a mouth full of crab and lobster patty. Rudi\n\nsensed the moment was gone and gently closed the piano lid.\n\n\"Boudwan.\" He snarled walking over to stand with us. \"Wipe your mouth, you're\n\nfrightening the poor lad.\n\nThen through the door emerged a pile of silk and taffeta in the arms of an elderly gray\n\nhaired man. He puffed and huffed before laying the pile on the floor.\n\n\"Oh, Dick.\" Rudi shouted. \"You've done it again.\"\n\n\"You said Whistlers mother.\" The old man puffed rubbing his back. \"But I could only\n\ndraw myself to do Withering Heights. The petticoats have come out very nicely.\"\n\nRudi skipped over to the pile and pulled it out across the floor. It was then that I saw it\n\nconsisted of three beautiful silk and taffeta dresses with a similar number of puffed up\n\npetticoats.\n\n\"They weigh a ton. It's all the silk and lining, Chinese you know.\" Dick stated looking\n\nat the dresses.\n\n\"Dick is an accomplished costume maker. He's made dresses for every theatre\n\nproduction in the world, you know.\" Boudwan sniffed wiping his chin.\n\n\"As long as someone pays I don't mind.\" Dick smiled seeing me and sliding up a little\n\ntoo close.\n\n\"Now who are you?\"\n\n\"That's David.\" Owen said. \"He's from Europe too.\"\n\n\"How exotic.\" Dick purred. \"Now you would look fabulous in the blue taffeta number.\n\nThat's if madam doesn't want it.\"\n\n\"No, no no...\" Rudi screamed pulling on a bright red silk dress with a bustle on the\n\nback. \"This is exactly what I wanted, Boudwan.\" He exclaimed. \"Do me up please.\"\n\n\"Did you make a green dress for Owen's brother?\" I asked. I sensed straight away\n\nthat I'd said the wrong thing.\n\n\"If you mean a little fifties number in green organza, I actually borrowed it to Owen.\"\n\n\"Sorry, Oliver was wearing it the other night.\" Owen said shyly.\n\n\"What, with his legs?\" Dick snapped. \"Heaven's above. Still, you can keep it.\"\n\nBoudwan had done up the last of the small buttons which descended from the nape of\n\nthe neck to the bulging bustle just below the waist; when he turned to me and said.\n\n\"Are you going to wear the blue, David?\"\n\n\"He won't need a wig.\" Owen replied. \"Not with that head of hair.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Dick agreed. \"It may need to go up but the length is perfect.\"\n\n\"I don't...\" I started to say.\n\n\"Rollers!\" Rudi interjected. \"The heated ones.\"\n\n\" I don't wear dresses....\" I said.\n\n\"Oh, come on darling. \"Rudi replied. \"You'll look positively divine in this blue one; especially with big hair.\"\n\n\"Big hair?\"\n\n\"Yes Darling.\" He went on to say. \"Not a naff perm; something a little more archaic.\"\n\n\"I don't know. \"I stuttered feeling like I was not going to have a choice in the matter.\n\nPeer pressure is quite a force especially if one has been drinking and is in a group who\n\nall have the same intentions.\n\nIt wasn't long before I was standing in front of a full length mirror looking at an exotic\n\ncreature in a blue, silk ball gown. Hair curled into the style of a French aristocrat and\n\ntopped off with a similar coloured blue ribbon.\n\n\"Shoes?\" Dick stated as he stood back to admire me from head to toe in his creation.\n\n\"You have to wear shoes\"\n\n\"Do I?\" I said. The shoes I'd been wearing were normal leather brogues and would\n\nhave ruined the whole effect.\n\n\"Oh, well it was a nice idea.\" I smiled.\n\nIt was a relief to find something that would enable me to get out of the costume\n\nwithout upsetting anyone before we went out in public. Owen was adding some\n\nhairspray to the black wig he had put on to go with his costume. This was a black and\n\nred taffeta gown cut short at the front and trailing off at the back. It reminded me of\n\nthe dresses the dancers wear in those pictures by Toulouse Lautrec of Parisian Can-\n\nCan girls. It fitted Owen perfectly and I assumed that Dick had made it especially for\n\nhim.\n\n\"What size are you ?\" Owen asked\n\n\"Nine.\" I said secretly hoping that no-one would have a pair they could borrow me.\n\n\"Fantastic.\" Dick smiled. \"You can wear a pair of mine.\"\n\n\"Can I?\" I said hoping he wouldn't detect my disappointment.\n\n\"Yes Dear, I have a lovely pair of heels in the car. Not quite the right century but they\n\nwill do. You'll be the tallest person in the club.\"\n\n\"Will I?\" I said apprehensively.\n\n\"Yes, They're very high.\"...\n\nAnd they were....\n\n7\n\nAn hour, several more drinks and a snort of cocaine later Boudwan's Rolls Royce\n\npulled up on the pavement in the centre of town. There was a shabby door which led\n\nto a flight of stairs and emerging from the door was a queue of people that went\n\nhalfway down the street.\n\nThe driver opened the rear door and out stepped Rudi like a vision in red. His blond\n\nwig contrasting crazily with his brown skin as it framed his face and eyes which by\n\nnow were adorned with a pair of silver eyelashes almost four inches long.\n\nHe caused a gasp of delight to ripple through the crowd. The gasp turned\n\ninto a whoop as Owen followed dressed in the red and black can-can dress topped\n\nwith his high black bouffant.\n\nBoudwan followed him. His large frame squeezed into a purple valet costume making\n\nhim look like a pantomime Buttons accompanying two ugly sisters; although they\n\nwere not ugly; just bizarre. He held out a hand to help me emerge.\n\nI nervously placed one of the seven inch heels on the pavement and pulled myself out of the car and a sudden round of applause echoed through the crowd. This made me feel slightly more\n\nat ease and I held Boudwan's arm tightly partly to prevent a catastrophic fall and\n\npartly to ease my nerves.\n\nNo-one paid any attention to Dick who followed me and in whose wonderful\n\ncreations we were adorned.\n\n\"It's your first time in drag?\" Boudwan whispered as we made our way past the queue\n\nand straight in through the doorway.\n\n\"Yes.\" I said trying not to look too awkward as we climbed the stairs past drooping\n\njawed people who formed a line towards the dull thud, thud, thud emanating\n\nseveral floors above us.\n\n\"Well, you look wonderful.\" He said to comfort me sensing my nervousness.\n\n\"I just feel like an expensive handbag swinging on your arm.\" I said as we approached the\n\nlanding at the top of the stairs.\n\n\"Just remember.\" Boudwan replied with a smiled as the security guards and bouncers\n\nparted like the red sea as we approached.\n\n\"Every handbag has a silver lining....\"\n\nThere was a desk by another door which was closed and guarded by a huge building\n\nof a man. At the desk sat two women and a middle aged man. The man rose to his feet\n\nas he saw our group.\n\n\"Boudwan De Wit...\" He shouted above the sound of thudding bass lines that\n\nreverberated from the room beyond the door.\n\n\"I should have guessed.\"\n\nHe came from behind the desk and kisses Rudi on the cheek.\n\n\"Rudi; you look fabulous...\" He then kissed Owen next saying simply. \"...Delightful Dear.\"\n\nThen a hug and a kiss to Boudwan preceded a squeal of delight as his eyes surveyed\n\nme from head to toe.\n\n\"And who is this beautiful creature?\"\n\n\"Rupert,\" Boudwan smiled. \"This is my very nice friend, David. He's from England.\"\n\n\"What a charmer.\" Rupert smiled. \"You look absolutely stunning Dear, this must be\n\none of...\" He looked over my shoulder and saw Dick huffing and puffing loudly as he\n\nclimbed the last of the stairs.\n\n\"....Richard's creations. Richard, Richard, darling look at you; do you want a chair?\"\n\nRupert placed his lips close to my ear and whispered. \"See, forty fags a day for thirty\n\nyears. See what happens.\"\n\n\"Just let us in will you.\" Dick huffed as he joined us. \"Quick, before those stairs kill me.\"\n\nRupert waved his hand and the huge man by the door reached out and pulled it ajar.\n\n\"My dears,\" Rupert announced.\n\n\"Welcome to Wings, the best night club in the whole of Africa.\"\n\nI followed Boudwan through the door as Rupert whispered in his ear. \"Catch me when\n\nthe queue goes down and well have a little snorty, snorty in my private rooms.\"\n\nI found myself inside a huge cavernous hall that was decorated on every wall from\n\nfloor to ceiling with mirrors.\n\nA giant mirror ball hung from the ceiling above a throbbing dance floor casting diamond shafts of light around the hall. Other lights flashed on and off in time with the bouncing bass notes that thrust forwards from four stacks of speakers positioned in each corner of the room. The music was deafening but Crystal clear.\n\nI recognized the song at once having heard it before played by my mother during her Piaf evenings. When she would turn off the television and play her old records. This song was one of her favourites; La Vie en Rose; although I'd never heard it performed like this. It was loud, bold and incredibly sexy. The female's voice seemed to wrap around me in a sensuous veil of sound.\n\n\"Grace Jones...\" Boudwan shouted as if sensing my intrigue. \"It's a very good version\n\ndon't you think?\"\n\n\"Superb.\" I said as he led me to the dance floor. Although the shoes were\n\nuncomfortable and the heels positively dangerous I could not help but bump and sway\n\nto the sound of that song as its melody and hypnotic beat sucked me into a vortex of\n\naudio intoxication.\n\nI couldn't tell when that song ended and the next began but soon I realized that we\n\nhad been dancing for some time and the hall was now so crowded I couldn't move my\n\narms anymore. I looked for Boudwan but he was not nearby and I realized that the\n\nheels gave me an added advantage in as much as I could see right over everybody\n\nelse's heads.\n\nRudi's blond wig was like a beacon in the distance for me to home into. When I\n\neventually pushed, barged and pleaded my way through the crowd I found my friends\n\nstanding beside a huge circular bar. The crowd was six deep all the way around and in\n\nthe centre was a shrine to alcohol. This shrine was being milked by several young\n\nmen dressed only in tight satin hot pants and training shoes.\n\nAbove the shrine was an angel, descending through the clouds of dry ice on barely visible wires and from each shoulder rose huge feathered wings. It was the most incredible sight I'd ever seen.\n\n\"It's beautiful isn't it?\" Owen shouted as he passed me a drink of glowing green liquid.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I sighed. \"Beautiful....\"\n\n\"Dick made the robes.\" He continued pointing at the soft linen toga that the angel was\n\nadorned with. It was edged with gold thread and the gold picked up the diamond\n\nbeads of light from the mirror ball making the whole vision come to life before my\n\neyes.\n\n\"He's so talented.\" I said looking around for him. \"Where is he?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Owen smiled. \"He's gone with Rupert and Boudwan upstairs; would you like to\n\nhave a look?\"\n\n\"Why not.\"\n\n\"Oyez...\" A deep voice thundered through the music as we left the bar.\n\n\"Don't leave me here on my own.\" I looked back and smiled as I saw Rudi stumbling through the crowd towards us.\n\nTogether Owen partly supported and partly led us through the remaining throng\n\ntowards a discrete door beside the toilet that was guarded by another security man. He\n\ngave Owen a wink as we stepped up to him and pulled the door back.\n\n\"Rudi.\" He said as we stepped past him into a brightly lit hall.\n\n\"Charmed....\" Rudi purred as the door was closed behind us.\n\n\" Do you know him?\" I asked as we walked towards a small room at the end of the\n\nhall.\n\n\"No,\" He replied. \"He knows me....\"\n\nInside the room at the end of the hall we found Rupert, Boudwan and Richard sitting\n\nwith two other men around a large glass table. The table had a bowl in the centre\n\nwhich was filled with coke and I saw traces of it smudged in front of each person on\n\nthe table.\n\n\"Boys, er, Girls...\" Rupert smiled. \"Come on in, David, come and sit here by me.\"\n\nI did as he asked and soon a silver spoon was being offered up to my nose. In a few\n\nminutes I was spread out with those shoes on the other side of the room. It was so nice\n\nbeing able to get them off and relax even if I was wearing a silly dress.\n\n\"Are you enjoying yourself?\" Rupert asked stroking his soft fingers against my arm.\n\n\"I'd feel better if I could get out of this dress.\"\n\n\"All the girls say that when I'm around...\" Rupert hissed. Someone passed him a small\n\npipe and he sucked on the end of it. Soon a cloud of exotic smoke was floating around\n\nmy head and I felt slightly dizzy.\n\n\"Here, have some of this Malawi grass; it's radical...\"\n\nI took a deep breath from the end of the pipe and soon I was on another planet. The room\n\nfaded away and I was sliding down a rainbow landing softly on a daisy petal spilling\n\ndiamonds from my brow.\n\n8\n\n\"Wake up...\" The words banged through my brain like a sledgehammer. \"Come on,\n\nwake up, I have to get going...\"\n\nI opened one eye and saw Rupert standing beside the bed I was laying upon. He was\n\ngetting dressed. I was naked once more. I remember thinking that I really should try to\n\nprevent this happening again; after all it was clear that we'd slept together although I\n\ncouldn't remember anything about it.\n\n\"Where's Boudwan?\" I asked softly.\n\n\"They went ages ago.\" Rupert replied as he dragged on a pair of cowboy boots. He\n\nlooked really ugly and I felt bad about being in his bed. \"Come on Dear, I've got things to do.\"\n\n\"What's the time?\" I asked vaguely.\n\n\"It's nearly twelve.\"\n\n\"What about my clothes? I left everything at Boudwan's.\"\n\n\" Richard took that dress. Here's a pair of jeans and a tea shirt. I don't know what you\n\nare going to do about shoe's dear, mine won't fit you.\" He stood and took a roll of\n\nbank notes from his pocket. \"Here's fifty Rand, go and buy something from the shop\n\nopposite.\"\n\nHe pulled back the curtain and I saw that we must have been in a room above the club.\n\nThe shops below were open and people were milling around on the streets outside.\n\n\"What are you doing today?\" He asked as I got dressed.\n\n\"It's Saturday isn't it?\"\n\n\"All day darling.\"\n\n\"I was going to go on a march with Oliver and Owen. They want me to meet them by\n\nthe flower stalls at two.\"\n\n\"You're new to South Africa Darling, aren't you?\" He said tilting his head to one side.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"We'll these are very troubled times.\" He went on. \"I've been here for several years\n\nbut recently there have been plenty of riots and so on. The police kill you first and ask\n\nquestions later so if you're thinking about getting involved in all that you'd better be\n\ncareful. About a hundred people were shot dead during the last riot.\"\n\n\"Really?\" I said.\n\n\"That was in Soweto, near Jo'burg but these bastards don't fuck around out here;\n\nespecially if you're white. They expect blacks to cause trouble but white people who\n\nare caught up in it are made an example of. You're still young; just make sure you live\n\nto see your next birthday.\"\n\n\"I'll be careful.\" I said simply placing the fifty Rand note in my pocket.\n\n\"If you're still alive why not come to the club tonight; it's good here on a Saturday\n\nand you won't get a better night anywhere else in Cape Town.\" He went over to a\n\nsmall dresser and emptied the bowl from the previous evening into the top of it.\n\n\"Want a snort before you go ?\"\n\n\"Why not...\"\n\nSo that's how I found myself in the middle of Cape Town one Saturday morning,\n\nshoeless and out of my head on coke. The shoes in the store opposite were awful and\n\nas it was hot I thought I'd not bother. It seemed perfectly natural to walk around bare\n\nfooted on such a hot day. People looked at me but I was used to that. It was only when\n\nI went into a cafe to get some coffee that it became apparent why.\n\n\"Fuck off.\" The big Boer behind the counter said. \"We don't serve hippies.\"\n\nWell being called a hippie was better than being called a queer so I went to the flower\n\nstalls and sat on a bench and waited for my friends to come. The police presence was\n\nvery noticeable and I did found them quite intimidating as they strolled past in pairs\n\nslapping their horse whips against their palms and legs.\n\nTheir revolvers were unclipped and ready for action. There was an un-nerving feeling in the air, partly anxiousness and partly excitement. I saw groups of young blacks and coloureds strolling around trying to look inconspicuous. The police were stopping the small groups from time to time\n\nand checking papers. I was aware that blacks needed special papers to be in the city\n\nand it was partly this oppression that they wanted to demonstrate against.\n\nAfter an hour or so I saw Owen walking towards me. \"David..\" He smiled as he joined\n\nme.\n\n\"I'm so glad you're here. Have you waited long?\"\n\n\"No, not really. It's been nice anyway looking at all the flowers and taking in the\n\nsun?\"\n\n\"Where are your shoes?\" He laughed.\n\n\"At Boudwan's.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes. I'm sorry we left you with Rupert but you were so drunk..\"\n\n\"It's okay. When is the march going to start?\"\n\n\"We have to be careful because of the police.\" Owen said looking about anxiously.\n\n\"I have this flyer but it's in Afrikaans.\"\n\n\"What's it say?\"\n\n\"Apparently we're to congregate around the main parliamentary building down there\n\njust after two. The want all the school kids at the front because they think the police\n\nare less likely to just start shooting if they see a row of children at the front.\"\n\n\"Oops.\" I grimaced. \"Are they likely to start shooting?\"\n\n\"No, we'll be okay. \"He smiled holding his hand out to touch mine sensitively. \"They'll protect you.\"\n\n\"Why should they want to do that?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh, David, you're so grown up and yet so innocent at the same time.\" He looked\n\naround cautiously.\n\n\"You are white. If you are going to place yourself at the front of our march for equality no one will allow them to kill you. I promise.\"\n\n\"I'm glad to hear that...\"\n\nJust then a fat white woman with gray hair piled up on her wrinkly head came out of\n\nthe crowd. She placed her face next to mine and spat. Instinctively I pushed her away\n\nand shocked turned to place some distance between her and myself.\n\n\"Fucking Caffier lover...\" She screamed. \"...You're an affront to common decency.\"\n\nOwen grabbed my hand and pulled me down the street. \"We'd better find every one\n\nelse.\" He said.\n\n\"There's safety in numbers.\"\n\nAs we turned a corner near the main judicial and parliamentary buildings which were\n\nsituated in Cape Town at that time we came across a crowd of people. They were\n\nmainly black women dressed in traditional African costume with brightly coloured\n\nbundles of fabric on their heads as was the style.\n\nThe small groups of black and coloured youths who had been walking about aimlessly earlier were now congregating at the front of the crowds of women and Owen led me toward them. A\n\nthin black man in a crumpled suit met us as we came closer.\n\n\"Thank you for your support comrade.\" He said placing me and Owen in the front line.\n\nWe linked our arms and the crowd of women fell in line behind us. Suddenly a banner\n\nwas unfurled proudly proclaiming the legend:\n\n'School Children of Africa Unite against Apartheid.'\n\nThen a push and a shove and off we went. I looked behind our line and there was now over a thousand people pushing us on. Owen clasped my arm hard as we turned in one unit into the narrow street ahead. The youth on my right was a young black boy who smiled and winked as I looked down towards his bright eyes. Then a voice rose up behind us and the whole mass of\n\nhumanity burst into spontaneous song. I didn't catch the words as they were singing\n\nin Afrikaans but it was clearly a song about freedom. The melody rang out down the\n\nstreet and echoed off the buildings that lined our way. It was a truly inspirational\n\nmoment that brought tears to my eyes.\n\nThe street ahead of us cleared and only the police were left to meet us as we lunged\n\nforwards. One of them holding a loud speaker placed it to his lips and shouted a\n\nwarning first in Afrikaans and then in English.\n\n\"This is an illegal gathering. You have one minute to disperse or we'll open fire.\"\n\nThe song continued but now louder and with more resolve as we gradually stepped\n\nforwards towards the ranks of uniformed men.\n\n\"You must disperse at once or suffer the consequences..\" The police man shouted\n\nagain. I looked towards the end of the street and now a row of policemen on\n\nhorseback were gathering in a straight line. An order was given and the line of horses\n\ndrew closer.\n\nStill the song rang out, louder and louder, each word rising above our heads like a\n\nprayer. Catching its own rhythm the beat thrust us onwards. The horses came closer\n\nand then a shout went up. Suddenly I heard a bullet fly past my ear and a woman\n\nbehind fell forwards. I glanced back just in time to see blood on the road behind me.\n\nThere was confusion and the horses charged.\n\n\"Ouch...\" I screamed. \"That's my fucking foot.\"\n\nIt was no good as the police horse that had stamped on my toe was gone into the crowd.\n\nPeople were running everywhere as tear gas landed just behind our ranks. More shots\n\nrang out and I saw the boy who had been clamped onto my right arm fall in the road\n\nside. The pain in my foot disappeared as I ran to him. I cradled his bleeding head in\n\nmy arms and realized that he was dead. It was the most shocking realization I'd ever\n\nhad.\n\nThe boy must have been about ten years old and I remembered his bright eyes and\n\nglowing smile from just moments ago. A life now ended and for what? The chaos\n\naround me faded away as I stroked his still warm forehead.\n\n\"Leave him comrade...\" A voice whispered in my ear. \"Save yourself.\"\n\nI looked up with tears rolling down my face just in time to see the boot of a huge\n\npoliceman make contact with my face. The blow rolled me backward and before I\n\ncould steady myself my arms were being twisted behind my back and I was thrown\n\ninto a police wagon. The door slammed shut and it rolled away leaving screaming and\n\nconfusion in its wake. I looked around me and there were four other men in there with me.\n\nI was the only white person and this filled me with a sense of shame.\n\n\"Don't cry my friend.\" One of the black men said as the van turned a corner sharply.\n\n\"You did well today; think of your triumph.\"\n\n\"I'm so sorry....\" The words rolled from my lips over and over again.\n\nThe old man took my head in his arms and comforted me. Suddenly I knew and understood what\n\npreviously I'd been blind too. It was a terrible and profound discovery; that man could\n\nbe so unkind and yet in the face of adversity there could also be forgiving.\n\nI looked down at my foot and saw a horse hoof print across the centre. It hurt less then\n\nthe emotional pain I was feeling. Suddenly the van pulled to an abrupt halt and the\n\ndoor was pulled open filling the van with bright sun light. A policeman dressed in the\n\npowder blue uniform looked into the van as the elderly man who had put his arm\n\naround me quickly sat back.\n\n\"Out.\" The policeman shouted.\n\nI did as he asked and found myself in a bright courtyard. Other police vehicles were\n\nlining the sides of the yard and I saw several other policemen standing around with\n\ntheir whips at hand.\n\n\"Up there...\" One of them shouted pointing to a row of steps. I did as I was told only\n\nlooking behind once to see the last black man emerge from the van and get a whip\n\nstrike the back of his legs. At the top of the stairs was a door through which I found\n\nmyself in a large room. A tall counter stood opposite and behind it stood another\n\nuniformed man who had his back to me.\n\n\"Give your name and address to the officer.\" Someone shouted as the officer behind\n\nthe counter turned shuffling papers which he laid out before him. I recognized him\n\nstraight away. It was the guy who had given me a lift from Milnerton about a week\n\nago. The one who had made a diversion to his house to get some fuel and a little extra.\n\nWe made eye contact and he looked very awkward.\n\n\"Give your name and address to the officer....\" The man shouted again from behind.\n\n\"My name's David...\" I said softly. The officer looked left and right and I saw that he\n\npretended to write my details on the form and I realized that I was going to be okay.\n\n\"Herman...\" The officer behind the counter said forcefully. \"You book these others in;\n\nthis one needs special treatment.\"\n\n\"You're telling me he does...\" Herman spat. \"The fucking caffire lover.\"\n\nI noticed the officer behind the counter had three stripes on his sleeves as he came\n\nFrom the counter and took my arm. \"Come this way, you.\" He snarled\n\ndragging me through a door at the end of the room. In silence he dragged me down\n\nthe hall which lay on the other side. Then he unlocked a door and pushed me outside.\n\n\"Go home you silly bastard.\" He snarled looking over his shoulder. \"Go home and\n\ndon't ever come back.\"\n\nThen the door was slammed shut and I turned to find myself in a quiet residential street.\n\nI was still in Cape Town but the sound of guns and people shouting was gone. I\n\nlimped to the road and looked around. In my pocket was the fifty Rand Rupert had\n\ngiven me earlier and I thought that I'd be able to use it to get a cab or taxi. There was\n\na row of shops which I limped over too. The first was a tobacconist and as I entered\n\nthe man behind the counter raised an eye brow.\n\n\"You've been through the wars haven't you?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't believe it...\"\n\n\"I would, you know.\" He smiled. \"Nothing surprises me anymore.\"\n\n\"Do you know where I can get a taxi,\" I asked. \"I've lost my shoes and I've got to get\n\nto Milnerton?\"\n\n\"You are a long way from home aren't you?\" He reached behind the counter and\n\npulled out a card. \"You can phone them over there.\" He gave me the card and pointed\n\nto a telephone that was hanging on one wall.\n\n\"Have you got change of fifty Rand?\" I asked taking the note from my pocket.\n\n\"You're not Howard Hughes are you?\" He smiled changing the note.\n\n\"No...\" I smiled turning to call the taxi.\n\n9\n\nI was never so glad to get home and as I made my way up our garden path I met my\n\nmother. She was carrying some clippings from the garden and stopped dead in her\n\ntracks as she saw me.\n\n\"Where have you been?\" She said. \"I've been worried sick. I was going to give you\n\none more hour and if you weren't back I was going to call the police.\"\n\n\"I've just been in town. \"I said limping onto our veranda. \"I'm sorry if I worried you.\"\n\n\"Where are your shoes?\" She said looking down at my bleeding foot.\"\n\n\"A horse stole them...\" I said simply.\n\nShe shook her head and we went inside. I found\n\nmy father watching television which had just started broadcasting. It was a news\n\nreport about the violence in the centre of town that day. I heard that seven people had\n\nbeen shot and many more injured. I looked at my throbbing foot and tutted.\n\n\"Black bastards...\" Dad sniffed. \"...They should have shot the lot of them.\"\n\n\"How can you say that?\" I shouted. \"Do you know I saw a child get killed today; a\n\nfucking little kid. How can you possibly be so ignorant?\"\n\n\"Sorry I spoke.\" He said turning the sound up.\n\n\"Watch your language.\" Mum said emerging from the kitchen with a plate of food.\n\n\"You're still a kid too you know.\"\n\n\"Am I?\" I said looking at the food she put on the table and going to my room. It was still there several hours later when I woke up.\n\nIt was dark and the flat was quiet. I went down the hall to my parent's room and\n\nopened the door slightly. They were asleep. I went to the bathroom and brushed my\n\nhair and tied it back with a band. Mum had left her liquid eyeliner on the shelf next to\n\nmy toothbrush and it was all the invitation I needed.\n\nSeveral minutes later I was heading down the dark quiet Milnerton street towards the\n\nmain road. I'd found a spare pair of shoes and although my foot still hurt it was not as\n\nbad as earlier. I stuck out my thumb and soon a car was pulling up to take me back\n\ninto town.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" The young man in the driver's seat asked.\n\n\"Anywhere near the bus station.\" I replied. I got in and the car set off. \"I wonder if\n\nthey've cleared it up yet?\"\n\n\"Were you there?\" He asked taking his eyes off the road. \"I try to avoid town when\n\nthere's going to be trouble.\"\n\n\"I just got caught up in it.\" I lied.\n\n\"I saw it on TV, it looked terrible.\" He said. \"Vorster made a speech a short while ago,\n\ndid you see that?\"\n\nI knew that he was referring to P.W Vorster, the Boer prime minister. He had held the\n\nreins of power for some years and was seen as the corner stone of the apartheid\n\nsystem but I'd never heard him speak.\n\n\"I must have been sleeping...\" I said. \"What did he have to say?\"\n\n\"He was implying that the troubles would get worse and that it may be better for the\n\ncountry if we moved forwards; you know, embraced change.\"\n\n\"Really.\" I said. \"So there is hope yet.\" The man laughed.\n\n\"You're English so you would feel like that.\" He was thoughtful for a while.\n\n\"The Boers would rather spill their own blood then change the status quo. We have a long\n\nway to go yet.\"\n\nThe rest of the journey was in thoughtful silence and soon we were pulling up beside\n\nthe bus station. \"Take care now.\" The man said as I slipped out of the car.\n\n\"I will try.\" I smiled back.\n\nIt was quiet again. Walking to Main Street there was no sign of the trouble there only\n\nhours earlier although I was aware of increased police numbers on the street. I headed\n\naround the back and was relieved to see a queue as people lined up to go into Wings. I\n\nstood with them and soon I was halfway up the stairs waiting to hand over some of\n\nthe owner's money to get in. I didn't even know how much it was going to cost.\n\n\"David, there you are....\" A voice said. I looked up and was relieved to see Boudwan.\n\n\"Am I glad to see you.\"\n\n\"Well don't wait there,\" He smiled taking my arm. \"Come, you'll be my guest.\"\n\nTogether we made our way up the final flight and at the top we found Rupert sitting\n\nbehind the desk taking money.\n\n\"Hello Darling...\" He shouted seeing Boudwan turn the corner. \"Oh, and your\n\nfriends still alive.\" he remarked looking at me.\n\n\"I'm busy at the moment dear, the bloody girls have let me down and I've got to take the money. Go in and I'll see you both later...\"\n\nWith that we were in. It was rammed packed inside and the music was at full tilt.\n\nBoudwan took my arm and let me to the bar before shouting. \"What do you want to\n\ndrink?\"\n\n\"Just a coke please?\" I said not wishing to make the same mistake as the previous\n\nevening. He ordered us some drinks and smiled.\n\n\"Rudi will be here later. He's having his legs waxed.\"\n\n\"How funny.\" I smiled.\n\n\"No, he's really a lovely person. I wouldn't change him for the world.\" Boudwan said.\n\n\"Has he ever been to Belgium with you?\" I asked.\n\n\"I took him there last year, it was a real pain getting him a visa to leave S.A and then\n\nwhen we got to Europe they wouldn't let him in. It was so sad; he was really looking\n\nforwards to it.\"\n\n\"They wouldn't let him in?\" I asked. \"...Why not?\"\n\n\"Well you know what he's like.\" Boudwan explained. \"We flew all the way there and at\n\nimmigration they said are you here for a holiday; well, he said no, I'm visiting my\n\nboyfriend's parents.\"\n\n\"Oh no.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course.\" Boudwan huffed. \"They looked at him and of course he only looks like\n\na teenager and then at me, a full grown man, and that was it.\"\n\n\"You should have primed him before you got off the plane.\" I said.\n\n\"It's no use. He does what he wants and that's Rudi.\"\n\n\"Can I buy your friend a drink?\" Said a camp voice behind me. I turned and a wealthy\n\nlooking man was standing there smiling.\n\nBoudwan shrugged. \"Do you want this person to entertain you?\" He said.\n\n\"Oh go on then,\" I smiled. \"I'll have a beer.\"\n\nSoon I was drinking a beer from a bottle and explaining what had happened to me\n\nearlier on that day to Boudwan. He was very concerned and asked if Owen had got\n\nhome okay.\n\nOf course I didn't know. Suddenly a pair of arms went around my waist and I felt a\n\nhard cock rubbing against my rear. I looked over my shoulder and it was the guy who\n\nhad brought me a beer. I turned and pushed him away.\n\n\"Cool it please.\" I said with a smile. He was having none of it and his hands reached\n\nout and started to undo my trousers. \"Look,\" I said more assertively. \"Just leave me\n\nalone.\"\n\n\"But I brought you a beer.\" The man said defiantly.\n\n\"So what?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" He huffed. \"So you're a fucking little prick tease are you?\"\n\n\"Look I didn't ask you to buy me a beer...\"\n\n\"You fucking stuck up little queen...\" The man shouted. I saw Rupert coming up\n\nbehind him. He stood there listening for a second and saw what was happening before disappearing.\n\n\"They shouldn't let little prick teasers in here..\" The man was ranting. Then suddenly\n\nhe rose off the floor and was gone. I saw him being pushed through the crowd\n\ntowards the door by a bouncer. Rupert now took his place.\n\n\"I hope you're all right,\" He sniffed. \"I hate it when these queens can't take their\n\nbooze.\"\n\n\"I'm okay.\" I said not very convincingly.\n\n\"Well, come with me.\" Rupert announced taking me by the arm. I looked behind and\n\nsaw Boudwan following. We were soon in the small room off the side of the dance\n\nfloor.\n\n\"Can you make a pipe?\" Rupert said tossing me a bag of grass. \"Want a line Boudwan?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Boudwan replied.\n\n\"No,\" Rupert said opening a money bag which was full of Cocaine. \"I can't have some\n\nhalf baked little queen upsetting my boys now, can I?\"\n\nHe placed the cocaine in the bowl and placed this in the centre of the table. I struggled\n\nwith the grass until there was just enough to remove the stalks and seeds and fill the\n\npipe.\n\n\"So, you two are an item now?\" Boudwan said with a smile.\n\n\"Are we?\" I snorted much to Boudwan's amusement.\n\n\"Don't be like that, Dear.\" Rupert chortled as he sat beside me.\n\n\"Last night you couldn't get enough of me.\"\n\n\"Really?\" I replied trying to remember what had happened the previous evening.\n\n\"I was very drunk.\"\n\n\"You were fucking dragged up.\" Rupert laughed taking a sniff of coke from his silver\n\nspoon. \"I don't usually fancy drag queens, so consider yourself lucky.\"\n\n\"That was the first time I'd ever been out in drag and it will be the last.\" I said defiantly\n\n\"Good,\" Rupert sniffed. \"You look so much better in jeans without your hair all ponced\n\nup.\"\n\nHe took a spoon full of coke and held it under my nose. \"Don't you think Boudwan?\"\n\nHe said. I sniffed loudly and sucked the white crystals deep into the back of my\n\nthroat.\n\n\"Yes, he does...\" Boudwan laughed. \"For a fourteen year old.\"\n\n\"What!\" Rupert exclaimed. \"Tell me it's a lie.\" He said loudly. \"Please, tell me it's a lie.\"\n\n\"It's no lie.\" Boudwan replied laughing loudly.\n\n\"Oh, no.\" Rupert sighed. \"I'm a fucking paedophile. Oh, my mother will kill me.\"\n\nSuddenly he looked up and started to dash about the room.\n\n\"You have to go, don't take this personally but I couldn't handle prison.\"\n\n\"Calm down, calm down...\" Boudwan laughed. He turned to me and whispered.\n\n\"It's the coke, it makes him crazy sometimes.\"\n\nI decided to go back to the dance floor and have a smooch. It was so exciting out\n\nthere. All those sweaty bodies and the music pounding away; with a brain full of\n\ncocaine I could have danced all night; and I did.\n\nI looked around for Boudwan when the house lights went up but he was no-where to\n\nbe seen so I made my way onto the early morning streets feeling a little shattered. I\n\nthought that I should make my way back home before my parents got up and headed\n\ntowards the main drag out of town.\n\nStanding there with my thumb out I thought that I'd probably have to walk the whole\n\nway home before I got a lift. Then in the distance I saw the lights of a car heading\n\ntowards me. It was a relief when the car stopped a few feet away from where I stood.\n\nI ran to it and the person in the passenger seat wound the window down. I saw two\n\ndowdy middle aged women in the front.\n\n\"Are you going towards Milnerton?\" I asked breathlessly.\n\n\"Anything you say, Darling...\" The driver shouted leaning back to let me into the rear of the vehicle.\n\n10\n\nI sat in the back and pulled the door closed. The woman in the passenger seat looked\n\nover her shoulder and smiled. She was around thirty and a cape coloured; her friend\n\nwas a similar age and both dressed in tweed twinsets, pearl necklaces and Sunday\n\nbonnets.\n\n\"Are you off to church?\" I asked naively associating bonnets with church and after all\n\nit was Sunday morning.\n\n\"If you want dear...\" The driver said. She reached between her legs and lifted a bottle\n\nof brandy which she placed to her lips and started swigging. She passes the bottle to\n\nher friend who also had along swig. She turned and offered the bottle to me.\n\n\"Do you partake?\" She asked with a hiccup.\n\nI shook my head and realized the car was now driving on the wrong side of the road.\n\n\"We're on the wrong side...\" I said seeing a bright pair of headlights in the distance\n\nheading straight towards us. \"Excuse me..\" I said as the headlights came closer.\n\nJust before we had a head on collision the driver screamed.\n\n\"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee....\"\n\nAnd the vehicle swayed dangerously into the right lane.\n\n\"We've just past the Milnerton exit.\" I said seeing my route disappear into the\n\ndistance.\n\nThey ignored me. \"But you're going in the wrong direction...\"\n\n\"Don't worry dear...\" The driver slurred matronly. \"We're taking you home to meet the sisters.\"\n\n\"Do we have too?\" I said resigning myself to the fact.\n\nLooking helplessly out the windows I saw a signpost which said that we were on the\n\nway to Bontiville, a notorious black ghetto which I read about in the newspapers. There\n\nwere several murders here every day and the locals particularly favoured necklace\n\nburnings. This was where the victims would be tied up and blazing car tires placed around their\n\nnecks. I felt decidedly uncomfortable and thought I'd better explain to these women\n\nthat I was on their side.\n\n\"I'm British...\" I said. \"I'm not a Boer...\"\n\n\"Good,\" The driver slurred. \"We can't stand bores.\"\n\n\"We're not from around here either...\" The skinny one in the passenger seat smiled\n\nhaving knocked back some more brandy. \"...We're from Jo'burg.\"\n\n\"Really?\" I said.\n\n\"We're famous....\" She went on to say.\n\n\"Oh, really.\" I said hesitantly thinking that I was in the company of two notorious\n\nSerial killers; The twinset two.\n\n\"What are you famous for?\"\n\n\"Here we are...\" Shouted the driver.\n\nI looked out the window and saw that we were now driving through dusty, dirt roads\n\nwhich had temporary structures on either side made of corrugated iron and mud.\n\nYoung Bantu children stood in the sun wearing faded and threadbare clothing. Here\n\nand there an adolescent looked at the car and pointed. As we drove further the\n\ntemporary structures became thicker and I saw the odd bonfire burning surrounded by\n\na straggly crowd of greying men and children. The car was causing quite a\n\ncommotion and I wasn't sure if it was because of my white face in the back seat of\n\njust the vehicle itself.\n\n\"Here we are..\" The driver said as we pulled to a halt outside a large hut which was\n\nplaced off the ground on stilts. The veranda outside had another woman standing on it\n\nwatching expectantly.\n\nAs the driver got out of the car both women ran to each other and threw their arms about each other's waist. Then they both started screaming at the top of their voices. Not screaming words but just screams for the sake of it.\n\n\"This is how sisters greet each other out here...\" The skinny one said as she fell out of\n\nher door into a heap on the ground.\n\nAfter the screaming pulled a crowd of bemused onlookers I heard the fat one say.\n\n\"Come sister. I've got a guest for you..\"\n\nWith that they came to the car and opened up my door. I smiled shyly and stepped out into the sunshine. The crowd of onlookers stared at me with utter amazement.\n\n\"Oh,\" The sister from the veranda said. \"It's white.\"\n\n\"It certainly is...\" The skinny one hiccupped picking herself up from the ground and\n\ndusting herself down.\n\n\"No, no,,\" The one from the veranda said. \"That's what we called him. White.\"\n\n\"Do you know our friend?\" The fat one asked in amazement. I looked at them and\n\nhonestly didn't recognize anyone.\n\n\"Of course.\" The one from the veranda smiled. \"He was the white one on the march\n\nyesterday; That's why we all call him white; get it?\"\n\nThat made us all laugh.\n\nShe led us into her home. It was just one room with a bed in the corner and some well\n\nmade wooden furniture. Some bright dresses hung from the walls on hangers and\n\ncandles sat waiting to be lit when the sun went down.\n\n\"I'm Rootie.\" She said showing me to the bed. \"Please sit down Mr. White and enjoy\n\nmy home..\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" I said. I could see the two women who had taken me there had had the\n\nwind taken from their sails and I guessed they expected me to be beaten or something.\n\n\"You were with young George yesterday..\" She said. \"...when he was shot. His mother,\n\nMrs. Ootie lives nearby and she would love to meet you. We all told her how you cared\n\nfor her son.\"\n\n\"Really.\" I said amazed. \"I didn't think anyone saw it.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't you worry...\" Rootie smile. \"...We see everything.\"\n\n\"Don't talk to him...\" The fat woman shouted opening another bottle of brandy. \"Talk to\n\nme, me , me...\"\n\n\"She's so funny.\" Rootie smiled. \"Calm down Belinda, I will give you my attention\n\nwhen I thank White for his help yesterday..\"\n\n\"But what about me?\" Belinda smiled. \"Me Me Me.\"\n\nThen I saw she was larking around. Belinda stood in the centre of the room and lifted\n\nher skirt and blouse exposing a scar that ran from the top of her knickers to just between her breasts.\n\n\"Look at my scar.\" She shouted at me.\n\n\"How did you get that?\" I asked looking at the brutal looking line.\n\n\"Don't you know?\" Rootie asked. I shook my head and noticed the skinny one started\n\nto look sheepish.\n\n\"Belinda and Rose are both sex changes.\"\n\n\"It's true....\" Belinda shouted feigning misery and lifting her skirt and blouse to shove\n\nthe scar in my face.\n\n\"We're both famous.\"\n\n\"You have heard of Groot Shire Hospital and Christian Barnard,\" Rootie explained.\n\n\"They did the first heart transplant, yes.\"\n\n\"Oh, I remember.\" I said.\n\n\"What the world wasn't told...\"She added. \"Was that all the background, experimental\n\nsurgery was done on Bantu and coloured people's first. Of course many died\n\nneedlessly but the world was only told about this when they had perfected the surgery\n\nand it was done on a white man.\"\n\n\"That's terrible.\" I said simply.\n\n\"It's also true for their operation, tell him Rose.\" Rootie said looking towards Rose\n\nwho was cowering in the corner.\n\n\"Rose, tell him the truth.\"\n\n\"It's true...\" Rose whispered coming to sit beside me.\n\n\"...ten years ago some men came to the township and looked for two outrageous queens.\"\n\n\"That's us..\" Belinda smiled gulping back another long gulp. \"We're outrageous.\"\n\n\"They found us..\" Rose continued thoughtfully. \"They said how you two would like to\n\nbe real women.\"\n\nShe stopped and recollected the day that this happened and I saw her eyes glaze over.\n\n\"We thought it would be a laugh or something so we said yes. They took us up to Groot Shire that night and in the morning I woke up and the damage had been done.\"\n\n\"They cut our bollocks off.\" Belinda shouted dancing here and there with her bottle.\n\n\"Now we're bollocked.\" She burst into hysterical laughter.\n\n\"Just like that?\" I asked.\n\n\"Totally bullock-less...\" Belinda hiccupped again.\n\n\"Just like that.\" Rose replied. \"Belinda was lucky, she had no problems really. I had a\n\nvery bad infection and now I'm totally dead down here below. I can't even use it.\"\n\n\"She still has to take it up the arse.\" Belinda shouted.\n\n\"It's true,\" Rose said softly. \"They said we'd be women but they made me a fucked up\n\nman. All we do today is drink and prostitute ourselves. We can't do anything else.\"\n\n\"Stop being so depressing.\" Belinda shouted. \"At least you have a good pair of tits,\n\nlook at these...\" She lifted her blouse and I could see where her nipples had been\n\nrearranged and were not equally aligned.\n\n\"This one goes up,\" she said lifting the left one.\n\n\"This one goes down....\"Belinda said giving the right breast a tug.\n\n\" ...This one goes up, this one goes down, this one goes up, this one goes down...\"\n\n\"At least I don't have to spray my cunt with a lubricant before I get fucked.\" Rose\n\nshouted.\n\n\"You would if you had one dear.\" Belinda smiled.\n\n\"Oh, Belinda...\" Rootie smiled. \"...Put them away.\" She turned to me and said.\n\n\"Please excuse her but she only carries on like this when she's relaxed. It's good really.\"\n\n\"Have you known them long?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes, we all grew up together, I chose not to go with the white men.\"\n\n\"So, you're a....\"I said amazed, I'd never have guessed that she was a trannie.\n\n\"Yes, but I still have my equipment.\" She stood and took a glass from the wooden\n\ncabinet by the door and removed the bottle from Belinda's grip to pour some saying to me.\n\n\"What sort of country allows doctors to perform medical experiments on its people.\"\n\n\"This one.\" Rose sniffed. She looked at me and said softly. \"...do you smoke pipe?\"\n\n\"I don't mind.\" I replied.\n\nThere was a young boy standing at the doorway looking in. Rose said something to\n\nhim in Afrikaans and he disappeared.\n\n\"I've told the tocolosh, the boy, to get us some weed.\"\n\n\"Doesn't he need some money?\" I asked.\n\n\"No, I told you we're famous.\"\n\n\"Dance with me.\" Belinda said taking my arm and lifting me from the bed. I stood and\n\nwe did a slow waltz around the room. It was getting hot under that corrugated roof\n\nand I felt a little dehydrated. \"You dance like a real gentleman.\" She whispered in my\n\near.\n\n\"If I get rid of these peasants we can do it now, in the bed. You fancy that white\n\nboy?\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" I replied. \"I'm totally queer.\"\n\n\"What!\" She said pushing me back on the bed. \"You're no fucking good then are you. Just\n\nmy luck, we pick up a cute boy on the road and he'd rather suck cock then fuck frock.\n\nWe'll it's your loss, darling.\"\n\nJust then the boy returned with an elder adolescent. They whispered to Rose and she\n\nturned to me.\n\n\"Come on, we're going outside to have a pipe.\"\n\nI stood and followed them outside, we stood in a secluded yard which was surrounded\n\non all four sides by shacks. The adolescent took and empty coke bottle and smashed it\n\non the ground violently. I thought, this is it, that's going to be smashed into my face\n\nnow. Instead he filled it with grass having plugged the end with a small stone. Then he\n\ninhaled loudly placing a lighter over the end. His head was enveloped in a veil of\n\nsmoke.\n\nHe passed the pipe to Rose who did the same.\n\n\"I've fucked Belinda..\" The adolescent smiled before continuing in his thick Afrikaans accent.\n\n\"It's true, she has to spray it first or it's too dry.\"\n\nHe turned to the young boy and said something in Afrikaans. They both laughed\n\nloudly.\n\n\"Here...\" Rose said passing me the pipe. I held it as they had done and sucked on the\n\nend.\n\nFeeling the smoke enter my lungs my head started to spin. Then I fell about in a fit of coughing.\n\nThe three of them laughed loudly and sent me up in Afrikaans. Soon the pipe was\n\nheading back towards me and I sucked again on the end but not so deeply. It still\n\nmade me cough loudly.\n\n\"You're not used to it.\" Rose smiled. She looked at me for a moment and in her eyes I\n\nsaw the great sadness that she held deep within herself. Never quite reaching the\n\nsurface but always bubbling around just below her air of superficiality.\n\n\"Before they made me a monster...\" she whispered coyly. \"...I'd fancy gay boys like you.\"\n\n\"Really,\" I replied softly. \"I can see that you were a good looking boy too, once.\"\n\n\"Not anymore.\" She sniffed. \"Today I'm only good for a quick blow job in the back of\n\na car; or being some fat Boers bit on the side. They ruined my life.\"\n\n\"Don't say that.\" I said trying to be a little cheerful.\n\n\"No, it's true. Rootie did the right thing. She hid when they came for us and look at\n\nher now. She can be a man when she wants.\"\n\n\"There's more to being a man then a pair of nuts.\" I said trying to make her feel better\n\nbut knowing instinctively that whatever I said it would not be enough. The boys were laughing and talking loudly in Afrikaans.\n\n\"What are they saying?\" I asked smiling.\n\n\"The young one wants to fuck you.\"\n\n\"Oh, really.\" I said anxiously. The kid only looked about ten years old and that was somewhere I did not want to go; even if I my rejection upset him.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" She replied with a smile, almost reading my thoughts.\n\n\"He'll make do with a drive in the car.\"\n\nWe stood in the yard for hours talking about life in South Africa for young black and\n\ncoloured people. I was amazed by the eloquence of their stories and how they coped\n\nwith their pain comparing theirs with my own life and finding no comparison. I felt lucky\n\nbut also extremely privileged to be allowed to peer into their world and be welcomed\n\nso much.\n\nMy experience of white South African's was so different. They either wanted to fuck\n\nme or send me to church. There was no compassion but with the Bantu and coloured it\n\nwas different. They really appreciated the little things, the small touches that made\n\nthem feel humanized in a dehumanizing system. We watched the sun set over the steel\n\nshacks and the smell of bonfires rose in the air.\n\n\"How am I going to get home?\" I asked Rose just after we went back into Rootie's\n\nhouse.\n\n\"Oh, we'll take you.\" She replied. \"When madam comes round.\"\n\nBelinda was on the floor with her legs akimbo, the bottle still clenched in her hands\n\nand her twinset looking slightly ruffled. I sat on the bed with Rootie and Rose and we\n\nspent the next few hours talking about England and South Africa. They were just as\n\ninterested in my life as I was in theirs. They were particularly interested in racial\n\nequality and how it existed in Europe. Of course all I could say was that we, like the\n\nSouth African whites, still had a lot to learn.\n\nAbout five am Belinda suddenly woke up and took a big gulp from her brandy bottle.\n\nShe looked at me with one crooked false eyelash standing on end and the other\n\nflickering madly as it touched her eye.\n\n\"Is he still here?\" She coughed.\n\n\"We have to take him to Milnerton.\" Rose shouted with a laugh. She kicked Belinda\n\nwith one foot.\n\n\"Wake up you silly queen. We have to take him home before his parents wake up.\"\n\n\"Do we have to?\" Belinda sighed.\n\n\"Yes, come now, get yourself ready.\"\n\nSoon we were ready to go and I stood in the doorway to give Rootie a firm hug before\n\nI left. She hugged me back and stood on the veranda as we got in the car. Just before we drove off she slapped her brow and shouted.\n\n\"Wait, please wait.\"She ran back inside the hut quickly and came out with a piece of paper.\n\n\"David, this is the address of Mrs Ootie's Mosque. They want you to go there next\n\nweek for a feast to celebrate the end of Ramadan. Please try to go they will make you\n\nvery welcome.\"\n\n\"I will. Thank you.\" I said taking the note. I read the address but it was in Afrikaans. I\n\nplaced it in my shirt pocket and the car pulled away.\n\nThe sun was now high on the horizon and as we drove out of the township along the\n\nsame dusty road we driven down hours before we saw people with their thumbs out; hiking their way into town to work. Belinda pulled the car up beside one old man. His bright eyes peered into the car.\n\n\"Cape Town Boss?\"\n\n\"Get in woman.\" Belinda shouted with a smirk.\n\nThe man got in the rear of the car beside me as I smiled at him. We drove a little further and saw another lone male hiking. She pulled the car over and another black face peered in.\n\n\"Cape Town Boss?\"\n\n\"Yes, get in, get in.\" She smiled again.\n\nI nodded as I moved over to make room. We drove a little further and another man was hiking. She giggled and pulled the car over again.\n\n\"Get in, get in.\" Belinda laughed.\n\nBy now it was getting a little cramped in the back of the car and I saw her looking in the rear view mirror with a cheeky smirk. Then she saw yet another hiker.\n\n\"Get in, there's lots of room in the back.\" She laughed as the man looked at the four of\n\nus and smiled nervously. He too packed himself in somehow and now I was sitting amongst a\n\ntangle of arms and legs. Belinda saw yet another hiker and laughed out loud as she\n\nstopped the car again.\n\n\"Get in.\" She laughed. The guy saw that we were cramped in the back and that there was no room; he smiled and turned away. Belinda laughed again and drove on.\n\nThe car came across a roundabout and instead if going straight across towards the Cape she turned the steering wheel hard to the left. The car started to go round and round and round.\n\nShe was laughing hysterically and shouting Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! as it went faster and pushed us hard against the left door\n\n\"But boss,\" One of the men complained. \"I will be late for work.\"\n\n\"Well get out then.\" She said stopping the car suddenly. The door handle was pulled and\n\nthe whole lot of us spilled out onto the road.\n\n\"Quick David,\" Rose shouted. \"Get in.\" I did as I was told and the car pulled away\n\nleaving a group of angry workers shaking their fists behind us.\n\nVery soon were pulling up outside where I lived. It was still early and I hoped that my\n\nfolks would still be asleep. Rose got out of the car to hug me before saying good-bye.\n\n\"It's been good meeting you.\" She said with a smile.\n\n\"Same here; I hope you get what you want from life.\"\n\n\"We might meet again...\" She smiled. \"If not, well, good-bye.\"\n\n\"Bye...\"\n\nWith that she got back in the car and they were gone. I hoped that we would\n\nmeet again but in my heart I knew the odds were against it. Still, this mad experience\n\nwas one that I will never forget.\n\n11\n\nI crept into the house and closed the door behind me. Going straight to my room I got\n\nundressed and thought that I'd just go to the loo before sleeping. I crept to the bathroom\n\nand after flushing the system opened the door and found my father standing beyond.\n\n\"So you've decided to get up have you?\" He said sternly.\n\n\"Yes...\" I lied.\n\n\"Well your mother thought we should leave you in bed all day yesterday but I thought it\n\nwas very unhealthy.\"\n\n\"Really.\" I said stepping aside so that he could enter.\n\n\"Yes, you must have needed it though...\" I heard him start to pee. \"Well as you've had\n\nover twenty four hours sleep you can stay up now and come to work with me.\"\n\n\"What!\" I exclaimed. \"But I'm still tired.\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous...\" He sniffed turning to run some hot water in the sink. \"You're\n\nnot at school and a boy of your age needs to be doing something. Not laying in bed all\n\nday and certainly not staying around here annoying your mother.\"\n\nI was coerced into dressing once again and found myself sitting in my dad's car on\n\nmy way to the docks to join him at his work. He was gainfully employed at that time\n\nas a foreman for the South African navy as part of their civilian crew. He was to\n\noversee works carried out to their vessels and transportation containers. In reality he\n\nover saw the work of a group of Bantu labourers who actually did all the work.\n\nThe ship yard was run by the navy and was managed overall by an Admiral. The yard had\n\nnavel security and it was run like a tight ship. My father had been in the forces most\n\nof his life and so he was well liked there and got on well with even the most senior\n\ncrewmen.\n\nThis particular day I was taken to the yard and dad asked me to follow him to where\n\nthe labourers were busy welding and fibre glassing away. He told me what they were\n\ndoing and said I was to make sure they didn't slack. Off he went back to the office\n\nleaving me with this group of men.\n\n\"My dad has asked me to watch over you.\" I said feeling like a real idiot.\n\n\"Oh, he has, has he?\" one of the men replied. \"You go and tell Midad that we do good job, yes?\"\n\n\"His name's not Midad, he's my dad.\" I explained.\n\n\"Yes,\" The old man replied. \"You tell Midad that we work hard yes?\"\n\n\"Oh, if you say so!\" I huffed.\n\nI saw a young guy looking at me and after a while he crept towards me and whispered.\n\n\"You like the pipe?\" It must have been my unusually long hair, but for some reason this was how people usually introduced themselves to me.\n\n\"I don't mind...\" I replied.\n\n\"Meet me down there...\" He said looking down the yard toward an empty container at\n\nthe bottom.\n\n\"...Just you and me. Okay?\"\n\n\"No problem.\" I said.\n\nA few minutes later I was in the container with the guy and he was building a pipe\n\nfrom another old coke bottle.\n\n\"I knew...\" He said nodding towards my hair. \"...I knew you smoked, I thought he must smoke weed, all men with long hair smoke weed. It's true, yes.\"\n\n\"I suppose so...\" I replied thinking about all the trannies I'd met recently who didn't\n\nsmoke it.\n\n\"My name is David, what's yours?\"\n\n\"Me, they call me Clonkie. You like the South African grass, yes?\"\n\n\"It's strong..\" I replied.\n\n\"They call it Dagga here you know. Daghuh.\" Clonkie said\n\n\"Yes..\" I replied. \"Can you tell me something?\"\n\n\"Anything my friend.\" He said packing the grass into the broken bottle.\n\n\"What's a caffire?\"\n\n\"A caffire?\" He said stopping what he was doing and looking at me suspiciously for a moment.\n\n\"Yes, can you tell me what it is?\"\n\nI was trying to look emphatic because although I didn't know it's meaning I felt sure that this word was considered an anathema, a curse as bad as the 'N' word, to these people and I did not want to add to his feeling of oppression purely by being ignorant.\n\n\"The Afrikaner...\" He said after a short, tense pause. \"They have their own church, yes?\"\n\n\"The Dutch Reform Church?\" I replied.\n\n\"That's the one...\" He continued thoughtfully. \"They left Europe because the rest of the Christian church could not accept their doctrine. It's a doctrine that embraces racial stereotypes and segregation and this is not acceptable to the other churches of Europe.\n\nSo these Dutch reformers, these Boers, came here to practice their religion and embrace racial oppression; carrying the flag of slavery and injustice onwards. Well, my friend....\" He sucked on the bottom of the pipe and held a lung full of smoke down for a moment before exhaling loudly.\n\n\"Their scripture talks about believers and non-believers; those with God and those without. Those without God being demon people or people of the devil. The word caffier means \"without belief\" or without God. It is always used to demonised us Bantu or native African's and it makes us feel that we are without god, or not made in god's image, and\n\ntherefore, without worth.\n\nYou see, it means that they could do as they wished to us without fear of God's condemnation. The church therefore sanctioned their racial fascism and over the years we have heard this word whenever they want to destroy us; our culture, history, our families or our self-image.\"\n\nHe passed the pipe to me and I gently smoked a lung full. I was aware that too much\n\nwould make me cough so I took it easy and managed to get by with just a short grunt\n\nand wheeze. The grass affected me immediately and I felt my spirits rise and his\n\nwords enter my brain like pearls of enlightened wisdom.\n\n\"Like all verbal abuse...\" He continued taking another deep puff of the pipe. \"...Once\n\nyou've heard it a number of times it loses its potency. Although my people are\n\ngenerally Muslim and consequently some get very offended by it. Me, well I follow\n\nIslam like most of my people, and the Koran teaches us that people need mercy when\n\nthey show stupidity; and the more stupid they are the more merciful we should be...\"\n\n\"Things are changing though.\" I suggested having taken another gentle puff. \"I was at\n\nthe riot on Saturday and I've heard that these riots are happening all over South Africa.\n\nEven Vorster himself has said change must happen. What do you think?\"\n\n\"Vorster...\" He chuckled. \"...that man. That man is fascism incarnate; while he holds\n\nthe reins of power there will be blood on the streets. I'm glad you were there on\n\nSaturday; it's good for white people to see how they deal with us when we speak our\n\ntruths. You must tell everyone you meet about what you saw and sooner or later the\n\nbrutal reality will sink in. But, my friend, change will never happen while Vorster sits\n\nin Pretoria laying down the law.\"\n\n\"Is there an election soon?\"\n\n\"Ha, an election?\" He laughed aloud. \"What is that? I'll tell you now, he will only\n\nleave government in a box. He is drunk on power that one...\"\n\n\"I heard that he is considering giving power to a colleague when he retires and that\n\nthis will mean a more liberal regime.\"\n\n\"Really, where did you hear that.\" He asked taking another puff from the pipe and\n\npassing it back to me.\n\n\"Oh, he gave a speech on TV the other night. My folks were talking about it.\"\n\n\"I don't believe it. I think change will only come when every Boer lay's dead in the\n\ngutter. It's happening already, Saturday it was the Cape, and Sunday it was\n\nJohannesburg, and Amanzimatoti, tomorrow it will be Bloomfontain and this\n\nSaturday their blood will run through the streets of Pretoria.\"\n\n\"Who says?\" A harsh voice said as a shadow crossed the door at the end of the\n\ncontainer.\n\nI held the pipe down and saw a huge white man looking in at us.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I asked holding the pipe behind my back out of view.\n\n\"I am Herman Van Der Westhazen, I drive the trucks here.\"\n\n\"Hello Herman....\" Clonkie said looking awkward and casually glancing between me and\n\nthe container door where the huge Boer stood.. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\"I smelt the grass, \" He said as his eyes surveyed the container. \"I wanted to have a\n\nPuff too.\"\n\n\"You did?\" Clonkie asked suspiciously.\n\n\"Come on boys...\" Herman smiled. \"You don't have to be frightened of me....\"\n\n\"Give it to him.\"\n\nI passed the pipe over and Herman held it awkwardly and took one very small toke.\n\nHe exhaled immediately and coughed a little.\n\n\"I heard what you were saying.\" Herman coughed. \"I agree with you. Change will not come with violence, your people have tried violence and South Africa is still the same. You have to combat bad ideas with better ones. That's when things will change my friend; when you have a better solution.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Clonkie replied taking the pipe and knocking the ash out and then tossing\n\nthe pipe as far into the bush as he could. He eyed Herman intently.\n\n\"Yes, blood may continue to run till then, my friend....\" He continued. \"...But the blood will not be Boer; it will be the blood of Bantu children and Cape Coloured women.\"\n\n\"And nothing will change, will it?\" Clonkie asked tensely. He clenched his fists and\n\nthe atmosphere became thick with unspoken fury.\n\n\"Of course..,\" Herman said with a small smile. \"...there might be a public outcry around\n\nthe world and this may eventually mean the beginning of the end for us Boer. I can see it\n\nhappening all the time. My family are all taking firearms lessons and if you go to the\n\ngun ranges at weekends you'll see for yourself that they are packed with white people preparing for the bloodbath. Sadly the Bantu do not have access to this type of protection.\"\n\n\"I guess you are right.\" Clonkie said looking at his feet. He relaxed a little and gave\n\nme an anxious look.\n\n\"I must get back to work. Your father will be mad otherwise, David.\"\n\n\"Sure.\" I said.\n\n\"Your father work's here?\" Herman asked raising his eyebrows.\n\n\"He's the foreman.\" I said before noticing Clonkie, who was now standing behind the\n\nhuge Boer, shaking his head from side to side.\n\n\"The foreman, eh?\" Herman smiled slapping his hand across my back.\n\n\"That's interesting...\" He hissed. \"...very interesting indeed.\"\n\n12\n\nWhen I rejoined the labourers they had started a new piece of work. I looked at what\n\nthey had been doing previously and it all appeared in order. Clonkie went to carry on\n\nwith what he was doing but Herman had disappeared as quickly as he had come.\n\n\"How do you like South Africa?\" One of the labourers asked with a smile.\n\n\"It's okay.\" I replied.\n\n\"Have you seen the signs that read 'Ni-Blanks' or 'Blanks Only' every where?\" He\n\nasked.\n\n\"You see it over certain doors, like at the post office, or on certain buses, at the\n\ngates leading the beaches and even on park benches?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" I said remembering that most of the shops in town had signs like this over the\n\ndoors.\n\n\"Those signs mean Whites Only or Non-Whites Only....\" The labourer continued as he\n\ndid his work.\n\n\"...This is how it is in South Africa, I am non-white and so I must use the door at the back\n\nof the post office. I can only get on every other bus and even the benches in the park\n\nare not for this bum...\" He laughed pointing to his rear. \"... and I'm not allowed on the\n\nbest beaches with my children.\"\n\n\"That's terrible.\" I said softly. Although I'd seen these things since coming to Africa\n\nand heard about the situation in Europe I'd not really understood the effect on the\n\npeople.\n\nBut the previous week and every day since the message was getting through my thick\n\nwhite head. I found it hard to believe that I was the only person who was having these\n\nfeelings and conversations, and yet if everyone had them, the situation couldn't fail to change.\n\nThen I thought about my father and his feelings regarding black people. He must have a very thick skin. I thought, because he must also be experiencing the same type of experiences and yet\n\nhis hatred remained.\n\nIt wasn't all about race. He had friends who were Irish and Scotch, Spanish and\n\nGerman so his prejudice was purely about skin colour. Of course the others were\n\neither Micks or Spicks, Huns and Jocks; I suppose giving everyone else a name like\n\nthis promoted the idea of British supremacy in his mind.\n\nIn reality it just exposed him, and all the other \"Brits\" who shared this view of the world, as small minded islanders. No different from the Boers with their ridiculous religious ideology.\n\n\" Yet,\" The labourer smiled as he painted a patch of steel with red lead.\n\n\"My father was white. My mother was his maid and she was scrubbing the floor one day when he\n\njumped on her.\n\nWhen I was born they took me away from her saying that I was not\n\nthe right race to live in her area. My father didn't want me and so I was brought up by\n\ntotal strangers in District six. Where else in this world could this happen; a child taken\n\nfrom his mother's milk at gun point purely because she is a different shade of brown?\n\n\"Quite...\" I said simply.\n\n\"David!\" Rang out across the yard.\n\n\"Midad wants\" you..\" One of the labourers said. I looked up and saw him walking\n\nfrom the offices with a clipboard in his hand.\n\n\"Come with me, son.\" He said and as I walked behind him away from the smiling labourers\n\nI felt relieved that he had saved me from their questions.\n\n\"There's a little job I want you to do.\"\n\nWe entered a large white fibreglass container. In the ceiling of the container\n\nwas a small hole through which a small bead of sunlight shone.\n\n\"If you get the jig saw...\" He said drawing a square around the hole with some chalk.\n\n\"Set it at an angle and cut out a square.\"\n\n\"I see...\"I said vaguely.\n\n\"Then cut out a square the same size from that sheet over there....\"\n\nI looked towards where he was pointing and saw a sheet of white fibreglass leaning\n\nagainst a small wall. \"Slot it in and seal it with filler. When it's gone off just sand it\n\nback flush and paint it. Take all day if you want but just do a good job because it will\n\nbe inspected after by one of the yard inspectors. Okay?\"\n\n\"Yha, sure...\" I lied.\n\n\"If you get any problems give me a shout.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Then he was gone.\n\nI thought I'd cut out the piece that I was going to insert first and so I carefully cut out\n\na section about a foot square in the fibreglass sheet that was leaning against the wall..\n\nI used this to measure around the hole standing inside the container on a pair of step\n\nladders. So far so good.\n\nCarefully bevelling the edges with the jig saw I cut out the section which had the hole\n\nin the centre. Then I inserted the piece I'd cut earlier and held it in place while I lay\n\nstrips of wet fibreglass over it. When this had set I went onto the roof of the container\n\nand did the same. By now the internal fibreglass had set enough for me to sand it back\n\nand paint it. Perfect.\n\nI then went onto the roof and sanded back that fibreglass and painted it. Stepping back\n\nI admired the job. The section was seamless and I was quite pleased with myself. I\n\nstrolled over to the offices and knocked on the door. Inside I found my father talking\n\nto two S.A navel officers and a man in a suit and tie.\n\n\"Are you finished?\" My father asked glancing at the clock on the wall.\n\n\"Yes. I am\" I replied, seeing that it had taken me around four hours. It was nearly five\n\nand the yard closed at five thirty so I thought that we'd probably go after he'd\n\nchecked it.\n\n\"Who is this?\" One of the officers said looking at me and paying particular attention to\n\nmy long hair. I saw him give the other officer a sly glance which I'd seen other\n\nstraight men use if they wanted to take the piss out of me.\n\n\"That's my boy..\" My father said vaguely with pride.\n\n\"Shall we go and see how he's done?\" The man with the tie stated as he stood and\n\ngrabbed a clipboard.\n\nI followed the two of them as they made their way across the yard towards the\n\ncontainer I'd been working on. The checked the numbers on the clip board and went\n\ninside. I could see the look on my father's face as they looked at the seamless repair.\n\n\"Very good.\" The man in the suit smiled. \"Shall we look on top?\"\n\nThey left the container and climbed the steps I'd used to get on the roof. I climbed up\n\nbehind them and stood on the steps thinking that they'd only take a second to glance\n\nat the work.\n\n\"Very, very good..\" The suit said. \"Let's just test the strength...\" He said.\n\nWith that both men stood on the section I'd installed and just as I was about to say\n\nthat it might not be the best idea there was a crack and crash and both disappeared\n\nthrough a gaping hole. I heard groans coming from the inside the container and then\n\nmy father's voice rang out.\n\n\"DAVID! \"\n\nThe rage was clearly audible in his voice and I turned and ran as fast as I could. It was\n\nonly later that I was told that the job should have been done on the outside so that the\n\nbevelled edges would support weight if it was placed on top of the container. Well, no\n\none had told me that.\n\nI ran from the docks and into the busy road outside. Dashing down a side road I had to\n\nthink about how to get back to Milnerton. It was hot still even though it was late in the\n\nafternoon and as I walked down the street a dust truck followed me slowly. There\n\nwere men working behind it emptying refuse bins into the back and paying no attention\n\nto me as I walked ahead.\n\nI glanced behind me and saw a big Cape Coloured man driving the dust truck and he smiled\n\nas I looked back. Soon the truck was level with where I was walking and I looked up to see the driver\n\nleaning over to the passenger side window and smiling at me.\n\n\"Want a lift?\" he said\n\n\"Okay...\" I smiled back.\n\nI climbed up and looked behind, the guys who were emptying the bins into the back\n\nof the truck didn't appear to have noticed me climbing in to the front.\n\n\"Won't they mind?\" I asked.\n\n\"Fuck em...\" He said simply. \"They're Bantu, you know, working men. They won't\n\nquestion me, or what I do, I'm their boss. You're not South African are you?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"British?\"\n\n\"Yha,\" I replied simply.\n\n\"I've always wanted to go to Britain...\" He said. \"These Afrikaners won't give us visas\n\nto get out the country. If things were different I'd go around the world.\"\n\n\"Don't you think things are changing?\" I asked as the truck rolled through the smart\n\nwhite neighbourhood.\n\n\"It will take time although I did see some white faces at our demonstration last\n\nweekend.\"\n\n\"I was there.\" I said with a wide smile.\n\n\"I thought I'd recognized you. That's really courageous ...\" He looked from the\n\nRoad, I felt his eyes bore into me and I realized that he was hitting on me.\n\n\"Hey,\" He said abruptly. \"Do you smoke grass?\"\n\n\"Of course?\" I said.\n\n\"How about the mandrax, you ever smoked a mandrax?\"\n\n\"I've had Mandrax in England but never smoked any.\" I said remembering the time\n\nwhen I'd been given two by a friend at the lyceum in the Strand.\n\n\"Can you smoke them?\" I asked having never heard that before.\n\n\"They're very good...\" He smiled. \"You know they are banned everywhere in the\n\nworld but in South Africa you can still get them. I have some in my room.\"\n\n\"When do you finish?\" I said nodding to the guys at the rear of the truck.\n\n\"I finish whenever I want.\" He said. He opened his door and called to the workers at\n\nthe back of the truck. They looked confused and stood with their bins in their hands as\nwe drove off and left them.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I laughed.\n\n\"I told them to take a break and I'd be back in an hour.\"\n\nWe drove into District six and pulled up outside an old rundown apartment block. The\n\ndust truck driver turned the vehicle off and I followed him into the building. He led\n\nme up a dark flight of stairs and into a small room which looked like the boiler room.\n\nThere was a bed in the corner and some clothes lying around on the floor. I noticed\n\nthe walls were covered with newspapers clippings about the recent riots around the country.\n\n\"Wow,\" I said not knowing what surprised me most, the newspaper clippings or the\n\nsmallness of the room.\n\n\"Things are changing...\" He smiled.\n\n\"...but this country will not be properly sorted until those martyrs on Robin Island are led out of the darkness of repression into the bright sunlight of freedom..\" He reached under the bed and pulled out a small box. Inside was a pipe, a ball of grass and two pills.\n\n\"Look at here...\" He said holding up a small white pill. I saw, stamped on the back, the unmistakable legend MX.\n\n\"Are you sure you can smoke it?\" I asked as he crushed one of the pills into a soft powder\n\nand mixed it with some grass. The he pushed the whole lot into the chillum and lit it up. I\n\nwatched as he disappeared into a cloud of smoke; sucking until his whole chest inflated.\n\nHe passed the pipe to me and I too took a deep inhalation. No sooner had the acrid chemical taste passed my lips I felt a huge rush boiling up from the soles of my feet. It flew up my spine and exploded in a massive surge of pleasure through every neurone in my brain. I lay back on the bed and, before I could do anything about it, he climbed on top of me. I saw his trousers drop and a long hard cock was being thrust into my mouth attacking my gag reflex.\n\n\"Suck it, \" He hissed as I felt vomit rise in my throat. \"Go, suck it good.\"\n\nHe came just as I threw up and I was looking at a puddle of vomit and spunk on his\n\nroom floor. I wiped my mouth as my motor functions returned and I could sit up; I looked at him in disbelief.\n\n\"You enjoyed that?\" He said, even though it was obvious that I didn't; all I felt was dirty\n\nand abused again. I could have thought of a few better ways to spend the afternoon and should have left there and then. He passed the pipe back and against my better judgement, I took another blast; before falling back onto the bed completely out of my gourd.\n\nThe next thing I knew he was lifting me up like a sleeping baby and placing me back\n\nin the truck.\n\n\"I said it was good...\" He smiled as I came to a little. \"Where shall I drop you off?\"\n\n\"Can you take me to Milnerton?\" I slurred like a baby.\n\n\"Sure...\" He said as the truck thrust forwards.\n\n\"We do Milnerton every Thursday...\" The driver remarked after a few minutes had gone, slipping past like the endless array of streets and vehicles outside my window.\n\n\"...Why don't you come and meet me next week. I'll see you there about three?\"\n\n\"Sure\" I said in a daze as I recognized some familiar local landmarks appear around us.\n\nThen I was standing in the road outside our house and he was gone and I didn't even know his name. I wasn't sure if I'd dreamed the whole thing although I guessed it must have really\n\nhappened because I was now home. I noted that my father's car was not outside and so I\n\nsnuck quietly into the house.\n\n13\n\nI went inside and found my mother doing the housework.\n\n\"I thought you were with your father?\" She asked.\n\n\"I was...\" I said simply going to the bathroom and taking a shower.\n\nWhen I came out I put on some clean clothes and looked around. Dad was still not home and so I thought it was best if I got out before he came back. As I left the house I heard Mum calling\n\nfrom the kitchen.\n\n\"Where are you going, I've made some food...\"\n\nI had no money and couldn't really think of anywhere to go so I sat on a wall near the\n\nroad and watched the traffic go past. I was aware of someone walking towards me and\n\nlooked up to see a huge guy in a soldier's uniform walk past. I paid no attention but\n\nsoon he had turned on his heels and came back to sit with me.\n\n\"Why so sad?\" he asked.\n\n\"Do I look sad?\" I replied simply.\n\nHe was a tall white guy probably in his late twenties. He was dressed in the uniform of a S.A boot soldier; probably just back from the border dispute near the then Rhodesia; now Zimbabwe.\n\n\"You look bored...\" He smiled. I saw his white teeth in a straight line and thought that\n\nHe looked friendly enough.\n\n\"Do you want to come back to my place?\"\n\n\"Okay...\" I said.\n\nHe didn't live too far and I was surprised to find his house was really well furnished and comfortable. He put on some music and opened a beer for me.\n\n\"You're from England, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Yha.\"\n\n\"Do they all have such beautiful long hair there?\" He smiled.\n\n\"Not really?\" I blushed. \"I guess I'm considered a bit of a freak at home...\"\n\n\"And here...\" He smiled. \"...no other South African boys have long hair. It's because we're all forced to go into the army after leaving school and shipped up to the borders to kill caffiers; or be massacred by them. By the time we get back we're all old men.\"\n\n\"Really...\" I said feeling a little self-conscious; it's something that I feel regularly when how I look comes under the microscope.\n\n\"Does it make me look odd?\" I asked knowing full well that having long hair was considered extremely odd at that time in S.A.\n\n\"No.\" he said sitting next to me real close. \"You look beautiful. Just like a girl.\"\n\nHe leaned across and kissed me gently on the lips. I felt his hand between my legs and his fingers\n\ndigging into my groin. He pushed my hair from my eyes and looked at me intimately.\n\n\"I've never fancied a man before...\" He smiled.\n\n\"I've never fancied a soldier before.\" I smiled back coyly before asking.\n\n\"So do you really fancy me?\"\n\nThen he was taking my hand and leading me upstairs; soon we were tearing each other's clothes off until, once naked we fell onto the bed and ground to a halt.\n\n\"What do we do now?\" He asked simply, with a shrug.\n\nI showed him what I could and he picked the rest up for himself. Although I'd been fucked before by a 'straight' guy it had been painful and had left me feeling a little depressed; they'd forget that there's no clitoris in the asshole or any natural lube so unless you take control (not really a passive stance) it can be quite an ordeal. But this man took me in the most caring way I'd ever been taken; slowly and with plenty of grease.\n\nIt was pure pleasure and after he had come he took the time to make sure I came too which made me feel particularly appreciated.\n\nAfter the act he held me in his strong arms and we both fell to sleep. That night I dreamt of\n\nclean teeth and deep blue eyes; strong arms and warm emotions. I woke the\n\nfollowing day to find myself alone. I got dressed and went downstairs to find a breakfast table laid with orange juice and fresh fruit. There was a note that said simply.\n\nI did not want to wake you, thanks for last night; it was really memorable. I had to be at Barracks before 7am so pull the door closed on your way out\n\nWith love\n\nI still never got to know his name. I felt strangely uncomfortable there on my own and\n\nso had a quick drink and left. It was around nine am and I thought my father would\n\nhave left for work and so I went home.\n\n\"I've been waiting for you to get back...\" My father said sternly as I walked into the house. \"...get ready, you're coming with me.\"\n\nIn silence I followed him out of the house and to the car. We drove to the ship yard without a word and I remember looking out the window at Table Mountain as we approached it across the bay. The mountain appeared blue in the morning sunlight and a layer of fluffy white cloud sat on top just like in the best post-cards.\n\nThe sky was so blue that morning that I could almost see the far side of the universe shining\n\nthere in its deep hue. The world was peaceful and yet in the microcosm that was my father's\n\ncar all the worlds collided in chaotic feeling s of suppressed anger and tension.\n\nWe eventually arrived at the Navy yard and instead of going to the offices as we had done the previous day we stopped by the security cordon and my father told me to get out. I was thinking that\n\nI'd made a mistake the previous day by doing the job inside rather than out but this\n\nwas a very extreme way of punishing me.\n\nMy father led me to the security office and as we walked in a couple of uniformed\n\nNavel Policemen followed us. Once inside the office they led me to a desk and my\n\nfather sat beside it looking at me as if I'd committed murder.\n\n\"We've had a complaint...\" One of the M.P's announced sternly.\n\n\"Oh really?\" I said wondering just what else they could do to me for posing as an\n\nArtisan when it was clear that I'd never done manual work before.\n\nPerhaps I was going to be charged with working under false pretences and thrown into military prison. Then my mind wandered to the experience I'd had last night and I though perhaps that wouldn't be so bad after all.\n\n\"We've had a complaint...\" The MP continued. \"...that yesterday you were in one of the\n\ncontainers smoking drugs with one of the caffires. What have you to say about this?\"\n\nFucking bollocks. I thought without flinching, what I was going to say now. I braced\n\nmyself.\n\n\"It's a lie...\" I said simply.\n\n\"We're going to search you for drugs...\" The officer continued.\n\n\"Okay.\" I replied knowing they'd not find anything. The two officers searched my\n\npockets and socks and did a rudimentary body search and looked at my father.\n\n\"Do you have any idea why someone would make an allegation like this?\" He asked.\n\n\"Who are you talking about?\" I replied knowing that it had to be that Boer, Herman Van\n\nder Westhazen; no one else had known.\n\n\"That's confidential.\" One of the officers replied.\n\n\"Have you been told who I was supposed to be smoking drugs with?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" One of the officers said.\n\n\"And did they say I'd been smoking drugs?\"\n\n\"No, they denied it...\"\n\n\"Well, there you are...\" I said defiantly.\n\n\"Whoever put you up to this is obviously jealous of my relationship with the Foreman\n\nand is trying to make trouble for him.\"\n\nI looked towards my father and I could see this remark filled him with anger.\n\n\"You heard the boy.\" He shouted. \"Now if you don't mind. David go outside.\"\n\nI left the three of them in the room and after a few minutes I heard my father shouting\n\nobscenities at the officers and demanding Westhazen's blood.\n\nI felt guilty about what had happened but also a little peeved that Dad hadn't\n\ntold me what was going to happen back at the yard. What if I did have some\n\ngrass on me; would he have seen me arrested and carted off to some military\n\nprison. This thought made me angry and I walked away, right out of the Navel yard's\n\nmain gate, leaving them to sort it out for themselves.\n\n14\n\nIt didn't take me long to reach town and I walked along the main road towards\n\nConstantia. I thought I'd go and visit Boudwan if I could get a lift out there. It didn't\n\ntake long and soon I was walking down the gravel path towards his big white house.\n\nI rang the bell and soon a valet answered the huge white door.\n\n\"Is Boudwan there?\" I asked simply.\n\n\"Mr. De Wit is in a meeting.\" The valet said. He opened the door and let me into the\n\nhall.\n\n\"I will tell Sir that he has another visitor.\"\n\nThe valet walked away and soon I saw Boudwan walking towards me.\n\n\"Have you come for your shoes?\" He laughed as he joined me in the reception room.\n\n\"I hope you didn't mind me coming unannounced.....\" I replied hesitantly.\n\n\"...It's just that I've had a problem with my father and needed to get away.\"\n\n\"Consider this your second home, sweetie...\" Boudwan smiled. \"...but If you can excuse me for a\n\nmoment I have some business to attend to.\"\n\n\"Sure.\" I smiled.\n\n\"My valet will take care of you.\" He turned to the valet and said something to him in\n\nAfrikaans. The valet nodded obediently and Boudwan shuffled off again.\n\n\"See you soon.\" He tootled.\n\nThe valet led me to a side room and asked if I needed anything. I asked politely for a\n\npot of tea and soon a hot silver pot, a china cup and a silver sugar bowl was placed at my side.\n\nAfter being left alone I went to the patio windows and opened them. In an adjoining field I could see two beautiful horses tethered to a pole. They both had saddles and looked ready to be rode. I walked to them and patted them on their long noses.\n\n\"Do you ride?\" I heard. I turned and saw Rudi walking towards me.\n\nHe looked strangely normal in jeans and with a tee-shirt. The only thing that gave him\n\nAway as a effeminate homo was the enormous gold ear-rings he wore in both ears and the long gold chain around his neck.\n\n\"I've only ridden once before.\" I replied.\n\n\"Come.\" He said unleashing the horses. \"There's a beautiful bamboo forest just behind\n\nthe twelve apostles, I often go there; especially when his bankers are here. Let's get going and I'll show you.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" I said as he helped me up on one of the horses.\n\nThe twelve apostles are a range of hills that stretch out behind Table Mountain and are a sort of national park. I'd only ever seen them from the air as I'd flown into Cape Town, the area was spectacular from the air and incredibly beautiful at ground level. I giddied the horse up slowly and we took a slow canter through the trees. It was really relaxing just riding no-where in particular with the sun in our hair and the beautiful, heady smell of nature around us; the fertile earth of the Cape had an individual scent all of its own which is unforgettable.\n\nThen we entered the bamboo forest and as the horses picked their way carefully through the thick straight bush, I looked at the sky and almost felt nature in my blood. We entered a clearing and Rudi stopped his mare to dismount.\n\n\"Tie your horse.\" He smiled. \"I have a spliff we can smoke.\"\n\nI dismounted and joined him on the grass in the clearing. The sun was streaming\n\ndown upon us and I undid my shirt to get some on my chest. Rudi did the same as he lit\n\nthe joint and took a deep puff.\n\n\"Do you like this place?\"\n\n\"It's fantastic.\" I replied as he handed me the joint. I could taste that it was packed with\n\npure grass; after a couple of tokes I felt that numbness that you get when you smoke a joint\n\nfirst thing in the morning rise up from my toes. It sort of rises from your feet and it feels like your body is being slowly wrapped in cellophane.\n\n\"That's good grass.\" Rudi smiled. \"My friend brought it back from Durban, it's real\n\npoison.\"\n\n\"I can tell...\" I said vaguely as the grass hit my brain. We sat in silence for the next\n\ntwenty minutes listening to the sound of cuckoos away down the valley and cows\n\nmooing at the warm sun. The bamboo was so thick that we could only see a few feet ahead\n\nbefore it turned into a wooden wall consisting of thick green lines. I lay back and saw\n\nthe blue sky above us almost vibrating with Crystal clarity.\n\n\"This is where I go when I want to get away from Boudwan.\" Rudi said softly turning\n\non his belly to face me.\n\n\"He is so fat, I wonder how I can fuck him. Do you think I'm mad?\"\n\n\"No,\" I smiled. \"What would you be doing without him?\"\n\n\"I'd be some peasant living in a crummy township with no electricity or running\n\nwater.\"\n\n\"Well, there you are...\" I said. \"...you two are like a married couple after so long together.\"\n\n\"I had all that poverty as a child...\" Rudi continued thoughtfully. \"... I swore that as soon\n\nas I could I'd escape and when I met Boudwan I knew that he would help me.\"\n\n\"How did you both meet?\" I asked.\n\n\"There are not really any opportunities here for a poor coloured boy like me, you can\n\nonly go into prostitution or crime. I was never a thief so I had no other choice, but I liked it. I\n\nfound that out when I was still a child, before my balls had dropped.\n\nThe Boers are always fucking their staff and my mother worked for some fat bastard in Port St. John. He would tell her to send me in to help him bath and soon he'd be riding my arse on the bathroom\n\nfloor.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to hear that.\" I said looking across at him as Rudi flashed his brightest smile.\n\n\"Don't be...\" He sniffed. \"...I knew that if he was fucking me at least he'd be leaving my mother alone. And anyway It helped me get away from there and come to the Cape. I used to earn a good living giving hand jobs to fat Afrikaners whose wives were too religious to suck their dicks or wank them off. Then I met Boudwan and I knew he would look after me even if he wants me to fuck him all the time...\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I replied; feeing slightly awkward by his explicit expose of their relationship .\n\n\"Yes, but I long to be fucked again...\" He looked at me with a saucy, expectant expression and I understood at once where this was going.\n\n\"... Do you fuck or get fucked, David?\"\n\n\"I don't mind...\" I said as he reached out and touched my stomach.\n\n\"...but what about Boudwan?\" I whispered as he kissed me.\n\n\"What Boudwan does not know cannot bother him.\" Rudi replied as his hand dived\n\ninto my trousers.\n\nSoon I was laying on top of him and he was pushing his arse onto my groin. I reached around\n\nand felt his hard cock throbbing in my hand as we formed a rhythm together. We had ridden there and now I was riding him like he was a racing horse going for the final furlong; then I felt him come into my palm. The feeling of sticky liquid in my fingers made me burst and I fell onto him panting loudly into the nape of his neck as he turned and kissed me.\n\n\"I've been dreaming of that for weeks.\"\n\n\"Sorry...\" I said feeling guilty again. \"...please don't ever tell Boudwan.\"\n\n\"Don't feel guilty...\" He smiled. \"It was me who started it.\"\n\n\"But Boudwan has been so good to me.\" I said looking away at the horses. \"I don't want to cause\n\nyou both problems.\"\n\n\"Well don't say anything to him darling..\" Rudi laughed as he lit up another joint.\n\n\"He wouldn't mind, anyway he'd probably want to watch if he did find out, knowing him.\"\n\n\"I won't say anything.\"\n\nRudi stood and adjusted his clothing as he passed me the joint.\n\n\"Come let's get back...\" He walked towards where the horses were tethered and climbed up on his. \"I'm making a pate for lunch, are you hungry?\"\n\n\"Starved.\" I smiled climbing upon my horse.\n\n\"Well let's go,\" He laughed aloud slapping my horse hard on the rear.\n\n\"Yahoo...\"\n\nBoth horses ripped into a full gallop and I looked ahead as the thick branches of trees\n\nswooped over my head and the horse jumped over the thick bush. Soon I dropped the reigns\n\nand was just holding the saddle for dear life. It was terrifying.\n\nAll the while I heard Rudi's voice echoing out around me as he laughed hysterically.\n\nThen with relief I saw the house baring down on us and my horse slowed to a small canter.\n\n\"You should have seen your face...\" Rudi laughed as he tethered his horse.\n\n\"That was so funny.\"\n\n\"Ha, Bloody Ha.\" I said sarcastically as I dismounted shaking with nerves. I really believed I'd die during that mad gallop so I didn't think it was funny or sensible; but that was Rudi.\n\n\"Let's see if fatty's still got those boring suits in tow.\" He giggled, still unable to understand why I was not smiling too.\n\nI followed him in to the house through the patio doors and found Boudwan sitting on\n\nthe lounge sofa talking on the telephone.\n\n\"Hello Boys, \" He smiled placing his hand over the telephone receiver.\n\n\"Did you enjoy your ride?\"\n\nRudi cocked me a half glance and smiled.\n\n\"It was divine...\" He drawled. \"...How was your business meeting?\"\n\nBoudwan said good-bye to his caller and hung up.\n\n\"Crazy...\" He said simply. \"...This fucking country...\"\n\n\"What's going on now?\" Rudi asked as the valet passed him a cold glass of orange.\n\n\"It's Smith in Rhodesia; he's bowing to international pressure and giving the country\n\nup..\"\n\n\"That's good...\"Rudi smiled. \"...isn't it?\"\n\n\"Well, yes...\" Boudwan continued. \"...but it means the markets are unsure of the effect\n\nhere in S.A. My shares are going down every day and the bankers are telling me to go\n\nback to Europe where there is little or no uncertainty.\"\n\n\"Talk in English please.\" Rudi sniffed as he poured a tot of vodka into his glass at the bar.\n\n\"They are worried that if Rhodesia goes the way of Uganda, South Africa will be next\n\nand we could lose everything, al our African investments.\"\n\n\"You'll always be okay.\" Rudi smiled. \"I thought you said that your family owned\n\nsteel mills in Belgium.\"\n\n\"That's not the point.\" Boudwan cried walking towards the bar and slamming his fist\n\ndown hard sending Rudi's drink flying through the air.\n\n\"It's all about growth. Do you think I want to be in charge of the business when it has to downsize; downsize for the first time in the family's history. Well think again, I'd rather get out while the going's good and keep my dignity; as well as the family money.\"\n\n\"But what about me...\" Rudi said simply. \"...what about us?\"\n\n\"What about us?\" Boudwan whispered. \"Anyway you're drinking too much.\"\n\n\"Should I go?\" I said feeling distinctly uncomfortable.\n\n\"Take no notice of me, sweetie...\" Boudwan said turning to face me. He wiped up the spilt alcohol\n\nand poured another two drinks. He walked over and gave me one.\n\n\"I'm sorry but I always get like this when my bankers come here.\"\n\n\"They've upset you.\" Rudi stated mincing over to stroke Boudwan's forehead.\n\n\"Come sit down let me rub it better.\"\n\n\"Yes...\" Boudwan stuttered taking a seat. \"Rub my forehead. That will soothe it away.\"\n\n\"Why don't I go and get dressed in that lemon ball gown you love. \" Rudi whispered softly.\n\n\"That will make you happy....\"\n\n\"Yes, lemon..\" Boudwan hissed. \"I want that lemon, lovely lemon; go on then, get dressed for me....\"\n\nRudi stood and announced that he won't be long and disappeared from the room. I\n\nwondered if Boudwan was okay he certainly looked a little disturbed curled up on the\n\nsofa hugging a cushion tightly. He suddenly opened his eyes and looked at me\n\nintently.\n\n\"Why are you not getting dressed?\" He demanded to know.\n\n\"I'm okay as I am...\" I said softly. \"...thank you.\"\n\n\"But you're not okay... \"He stuttered sitting up abruptly. \"...How can you be, dressed like\n\nthat?\"\n\n\"You don't really want me to get dragged up, do you?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" He stood and walked towards me. \"Please, you don't know how happy it\n\nwould make me feel.\"\n\n\"But....\"\n\n\"No buts...\" He interjected. Boudwan took my arm and led me through the house up\n\nthe stairs and into his bedroom. We found Rudi putting the finishing touches to his\n\ncostume.\n\nAs we entered he pulled a wig down over his eyes and did a twirl.\n\n\"Fabulous.\" Boudwan screamed like a demented diva as Rudi struck a pose.\n\n\"Now, be a dear and find something for this young lady.\"\n\n\"I'm no lady.\" I said with a smile.\n\n\"No,\" Rudi screamed. \"You're a tramp.\"\n\n\"And we've got just the thing.\" Boudwan said throwing back his wardrobe door and\n\nrevealing a huge selection of dresses.\n\n\"Cher, circa 72...\"\n\nHe pulled out a leather and silk number that had lace around the hips and laces down the bodice. \"Tonight you'll be queen of the sluts and I'll be your hooded slave.\" He pulled out a leather mask that had zips for the eyes.\n\n\"Boudwan, you've exceeded yourself?\" Rudi laughed holding the leather bodice up to see if it\n\nfitted me.\n\n\"But guys.\" I protested. \"We're not going anywhere. Do I have to...\"\n\n\"Please,\" Boudwan pleaded. \"please do it for me...\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I sighed. \"okay, just this once.\"\n\n\"Then we'll go for a drive.\"\n\n\"Oh come on...\"I protested but my protestations fell on deaf ears. A short while later\n\nthe three of us were in Boudwan's roller driving aimlessly around Cape Town. Every\n\ntime the car stopped at a set of lights or a crossing, down came the windows and either\n\nBoudwan or Rudi looked out to cause chaos.\n\n\"Hello darling...\" Rudi said at a set of lights, flickering his eyelashes at an old dear .\n\n\"Fancy a bit of this....\" Boudwan hissed at the old maid as she crossed the road. She\n\nsaw this hooded monster and ran; much to their amusement. After a while I sensed that\n\nthey thought I was not getting into the swing of things.\n\n\"Stop the car...\" Boudwan shouted as we passed a church. \"Come, let's go and prey.\"\n\n\"Do we have to?\" I sighed as they pulled me out of the car laughing. We entered the\n\nchurch and strangely for a weekday eve it was quite full. A verger saw us at once and\n\ncame running to the back of the church to meet us.\n\n\"You can't come in here..\" He stated in a matter of fact manner, stern and formal.\n\n\"And why not?\" Boudwan said defiantly. \"It's multi-racial isn't it?\"\n\n\"Of course...\" The verger said lowering his voice and eyeing me and Rudi as if we\n\nwere aliens.\n\n\"But you can't wear your, er, hat...\"\n\n\"Why didn't you say...\" Boudwan said untying the laces at the back of his hood and\n\npulling it off.\n\n\"Come ladies, let's take our seats.\"\n\nThe priest, who had been speaking had stopped to watch us enter, continued hesitantly.\n\nHe was preaching about tolerance and forgiving and his words seemed particularly\n\nrelevant with us at the back. The congregation stood to sing and I remember it was a\n\nhymn about the Virgin Mary.\n\nEvery time the word virgin was sung Rudi pronounced it like an opera singer and\n\nhis voice, perfectly pitched, rang out above all others. I was glad, after the service, to get out of there and was surprised to find the priest standing at the door of the church waiting for us.\n\n\" So glad you came...\" He whispered kindly, taking our hands and squeezing them gently.\n\n\"It's not often that prostitutes find the courage to seek out god and repent.\"\n\nI looked at Rudi and nearly burst into laughter as we walked down the steps to the car.\n\n\"And bring your gimp again...\" He called nodding towards Boudwan. \"..you're all welcome\n\nhere in God's house, you know, whatever perversion you suffer.\"\n\n15\n\nI left to go home as soon as we returned to Boudwan's house. In my own clothes and with my\n\nspare shoes in a bag under my arm. All I had to do was hike back to Milnerton and I\n\nstood at the side of the main route through town with my thumb out. A car pulled up\n\nand when I looked inside I saw two teenage boys smiling back at me. I'd not spoken to many white\n\npeople since arriving in the Cape; and none of my own age. I was a little reluctant to get in the vehicle.\n\n\"Your hair is radical...\" The one who was driving said with the typical surfer's drawl, looking into his rear view mirror.\n\n\"How long have you been growing it?\"\n\n\"A couple of years..\" I said expecting a torrent of abuse.\n\n\"It looks really cute.\" He smiled a broad and sincere expression which relaxed me a little.\n\n\"You can drop me here actually...\" The one in the passenger seat said as we headed\n\nout of town. They said their good-byes and I was invited to sit in the front passenger seat.\n\n\"Have you known him long?\" I asked making conversation with the cute blond youth who was driving.\n\n\"Yha,\" He replied looking at me with his deep blue eyes.\n\n\"He goes to my school, we go way back.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I said looking out the window as the sun set above the mountain.\n\n\"Have you ever been up there?\" The boy asked looking towards the mountain shimmering in the early evening light.\n\n\"Never.\" I replied. \"I've ridden a horse in the park behind it, over the hills and to the bamboo forest.\"\n\n\"There's a beautiful road that goes half way up.\" He smiled. \"Shall I show you?\"\n\n\"Don't go out of your way.\" I said as he turned off the road and down a dusty track.\n\n\"It's no problem, I know the way up there and we can watch the sun set.\"\n\n\"I thought you had to use a cable car.\"\n\n\"No, that's if you want to go to the top,\" He replied taking a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. \"There's a road, it's only a dust track but it gets you half way up there.\"\n\nSoon, as the sun went down, we pulled up and out the windscreen I could see the panoramic lights of the Cape twinkling in front of us, as the city unfolded to the sea.\n\n\"It's beautiful.\" I said softly as he offered me a cigarette. \"Do you come here often?\"\n\n\"Only when I want to be alone.\" He smiled. \"I have a big family so there's always\n\npeople around at home. It's nice to come here and get some peace. How about you?\"\n\n\"It's only me and my folks at home.\"\n\n\"I suppose you don't have to do National Service do you?\"\n\n\"No, I don't even go to school.\"\n\n\"Wow,\" He whistled. \"That's cool. As soon as I leave high school I have to serve two\n\nyears in Mozambique fighting the guerrillas. I'm thinking about going to Europe to\n\nget out of it, but it's tough being away from your folks.\"\n\nHe paused for a short period of time and I felt an excited rush of blood flowing to my brain. He bit his bottom lip anxiously and looked at me flirtatiously.\n\n\"Do you mind if I touch your hair?\" He asked with knowing smile.\n\n\"No...\" I replied softly, wondering where this was going. \"...Of course not.\"\n\nSuddenly and quite to my surprise we were kissing each other. I don't know how or\n\nwhy but it just sort of happened.\n\n\"You are the most beautiful boy I've ever met.\" He said looking into my eyes.\n\n\"Your hair is so long and shiny, just like a girl, and your skin...\" His soft lips brushed against\n\nmine and I felt his hand at my groin.\n\n\"I don't usually do this.\" He whispered as we rolled back onto the back seat of the car.\n\n\"Neither do I.\" I lied as I reached out and felt his thick cock throbbing in the palm of my\n\nhand.\n\nI pulled opened his jeans and looked down to see it burst out of his pants. Long, thick, uncut and\n\nsmooth with a small patch of light brown hair at its base.\n\n\"Turn over for me...\" He whispered.\n\nI did as he asked and felt his hard cock finding the button. Then his breath was in my\n\near and we danced the rhythm of love. In between gasps I thought I heard a car\n\ndoor slam nearby. Then suddenly there was a sharp rapping on the window\n\nof the car.\n\nI glanced around and saw the middle aged face of a Boer policeman\n\nlooking in at us sternly. The guy who I had on my back started to stutter as the cop\n\nlooked in and burst into laughter.\n\n\"I didn't realize you were fucking a girl in there...\" He smiled nodding towards me.\n\n\"...You just carry on my son, I only wondered what the car was doing up here all alone.\"\n\nHe smiled and turned to walk away laughing loudly.\n\n\"That was close.\" My friend said as I turned to face him. He smiled and proceeded to\n\nwank himself off until I felt his warm come on my belly.\n\n\"I was so close, I couldn't stop.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it.\" I smiled. \"You know, I've never been with a boy like you.\"\n\n\"What?\" He smiled as he used a tissue to wipe up. \"Someone of my age?\"\n\n\"Well, you're straight...\" I said. \"...I've never been with someone as straight as you.\n\nNormally they're totally gay and older.\"\n\n\"Well this is 1976. Things change don't they.\" He looked at me with a smile and\n\nadded.\n\n\"I never thought I'd go with a guy either. I suppose if I think about it I have been\n\ncurious recently. That doesn't make me gay does it. I suppose I'm bisexual; what do\n\nyou think?\"\n\n\"I think too much emphasis is placed on what we are.\" I said thoughtfully. \"All that\n\ndoes is place us in a box which we find hard to escape from. I think we humans have a\n\ntendency to seek out intimacy. It doesn't matter with whom or why, these questions hold us\n\nback. I think if you want to be close to a person it shouldn't matter what sex they are.\n\nYou should just go for it. Society prevents us from being impulsive. It has rules\n\nwhich are drummed into our brains from birth and these rules destroy our natural\n\nability to locate intimacy or grab it when it's on offer; leading to some very lonely people. \"\n\n\"That's profound.\" He pulled on his shirt and lit a cigarette. \"Is everyone so deep in\n\nEurope?\"\n\n\"Not really.\" I smiled \"In fact people are generally quite stuffy. I've had better sex\n\nhere in South Africa then I ever had in London. I think the heat makes you feel sexy.\n\nPeople walk about in less clothing and the suntans make us all look better; you know, healthier. In London people are generally quite stiff; the English are famous for being reserved, or hung up about sex,. The men are so paranoid about being seen as gay by their mates that intimacy becomes the first casualty.\"\n\n\"Do you think I'll be okay in London...\" He asked softly, suddenly looking like a small child, I\n\nlooked into those blue eyes and saw fear and uncertainty in them.\n\n\"I can't go to the front. It's not that I'm a coward; I just don't want to kill anyone;\n\neven if they are caffires or blood-thirsty mercenaries.\"\n\n\"You'll be okay.\" I said reaching out to touch his soft hair; I pulled him closer and held him in my arms as we looked out toward the moon rising above the crashing ocean waves. Up there on the mountain we could see the expanse of black sky, littered with a billion twinkling stars, curve down as the Indian and Atlantic oceans collide together in an almost a 3D view of the natural world.\n\nThe moon was reflected on the water and a thin line of sparkling silver light danced between the sky and the magical bay. It was awesome, as the locals put it and we lay there for some hours in silence. Just us, that big sky and wide rippling ocean waves; needing nothing else to be happy.\n\nHe drove me back to my parents flat in Milnerton after midnight and kissed me gently on the lips before I got out the car. I never did see him again. Even today when I think about that night of sex high upon Table Mountain; I'm left wondering if he ever made it to Europe or if his soft white flesh was bloodied on the bombed out dirt of Mozambique. I never even knew his name.\n\n16\n\nThe weekend soon came around and on the following Saturday I was stumbling\n\nthrough District Six looking for Owen's house. It was easy to find the tumbled down\n\nold farmhouse in the middle of the dusty street which clearly had grown around it. I\n\nknocked gently and shortly after the door was opened by his Auntie dressed in her\n\nblack mourning clothing.\n\nShe put her fingers through her gray hair upon seeing me as\n\nif she was worried what I'd think. She ushered me into the house and I found Owen\n\ndrying his thick mop of black hair over the gas ring that sat alone in the sparse\n\nkitchen. She hurried off to put her hair under a hijab before I saw her again.\n\nDavid...\" He smiled as I joined him looking sort of surprised. \"I thought you weren't going to come.\"\n\n\"It was my idea to go to Bontiville...\" I replied trying to look excited.\n\n\"...after all, I'm the guest of honour. So of course I'd not miss it, it was good of you to agree to accompany me and make the arrangements\"\n\n\"My dear...\" He sneered with a coy smirk. \"...I'm honoured, but tell me... \" He continued after\n\nponcing his fringe up a bit.\n\n\"...are they going to give you a medal?\"\n\n\"I hardly think so. I think the lady just wants to thank me for being there when her boy\n\ncopped it.\"\n\n\"It was a wonderful thing that you did David.\" He looked at me with a proud grin.\n\n\"I couldn't see Boudwan or any other white person doing that; or even being there like you were.\n\nYou should be proud of yourself.\"\n\nWe were soon on a train heading from Cape Town towards Bontiville and as I looked\n\naround the carriage I was aware that no other white person travelled with us. The\n\ncarriage was bare with hard wooden seats and as it chugged through the desolate\n\nstreets I wondered if I was doing the right thing.\n\nAfter all white people were discouraged from going into the townships and this\n\nparticular one required a special permit so that the authorities could monitor\n\nwho went in and if they came out again. I remember that when the two sex\n\nchanges took me there they were adamant that I wouldn't be safe if I left alone.\n\nOwen, whilst nice, certainly wouldn't be much help if we were attacked.\n\n\"Do you think we'll be safe until we find the mosque?\" I asked softly as the train left the\n\ndusty streets of District Six behind and the view became littered with ramshackle huts and\n\ncorrugated lean-tos. I saw the blank, empty faces of black children staring with wide, hungry\n\neyes at the train as it tore a path through their playground; my heart sank. There wasn't the\n\nnice roads, the sidewalks or even the regular posts for street lighting that we white people took for granted in our areas. No wonder, I thought to myself, white people were discouraged from coming to these places.\n\n\"Don't worry...\" Owen smiled. \"Someone is meeting us.\"\n\nThe train eventually pulled into Bontiville station and drew to a noisy halt. We\n\nopened the door to the carriage and jumped down to the hot platform. I was aware that\n\nI was the only white face present and the locals eyed me suspiciously.\n\n\"There they are.\" Owen cried placing one hand in the air and waving. I followed him\n\nthrough the crowd and we came across a group of women with children strapped to\n\ntheir backs with blankets. They smiled and nodded towards me as we joined them and\n\nforming a procession I was led from the station by the crowd. There must have been\n\nat least fifty women gathered around me and looking at the rear of our group I saw\n\nsome teenage boys holding machetes and long knives just in case anyone thought to\n\nattack us from behind. As the group led me through the street they sung out in proud\n\nvoices a song of freedom; the same song I'd heard on the march before the police\n\ntear-gassed the crowd. It was truly amazing that all these people had come to\n\nwelcome me into their community and into their hearts.\n\nThe procession sang me through the tight streets of tin shacks and dirt roads before\n\ncoming to a halt outside a long thin building. Above the door was a crescent moon\n\nand some Arabic writing I did not understand.\n\nOn the steps which led up to the door stood a man in a long black robe and a white\n\nturban and he peered at me through his half moon spectacles as I came through the\n\ncrowd. Behind him appeared a little old lady with a mop of gray hair perched in a neat\n\nbun above her craggy face, she pulled a scarf over her head quickly. Then the woman\n\nstepped towards me in silence and took my hand. I looked into her warm eyes and\n\nsaw tears swelling up in them as she mouthed a quiet thank you.\n\n\"Mrs. Ootie?\" I said feeling quite emotional too.\n\n\"Come inside...\" She smiled in perfect English. \"We have a meal for you.\"\n\nI followed her into the mosque and removed my shoes as they all did. On the floor in\n\nfront of us lay several small square mats and in front of each was a metal plate. The\n\nold woman showed me where to sit and I saw that the other women and their children\n\nsat at the other side of the room, only the men sat next to me.\n\n\"The Mullah will say a prayer for my son before we eat.\" She said softly.\n\nWith this the man in the turban started to sing. A strange , wailing song that\n\nreverberated around us. It rose into a crescendo and trailed off into a slight choking\n\nmurmur before the only word I understood was squeezed out of his lungs; Allah.\n\nI noticed that I appeared to be the only young man in the room with the mullah and\n\nwomen. It was only years later that I realized that men and women never enter a\n\nmosque together and I was there under special privilege. A group of young boys\n\nstarted to step down the path down between the mats carrying large silver pans filled\n\nwith rice and briyani. It was delicious and every time my plate was empty it was filled\n\nonce again until I couldn't eat any more.\n\nMy plate was taken and I was led into a far room where I found Owen waiting for me.\n\n\"They really made us feel welcome didn't they?\" He said leading me to a garden at the\n\nrear of the Mosque.\n\n\"I couldn't eat with you because you were the special guest but they fed me too in\n\nhere with the boys.\"\n\n\"I feel like a celebrity...\"I replied shyly. \"Do I really deserve this attention, after all I\n\ndid what any sane person would.\"\n\n\"To find sanity in a world of madness must be celebrated...\" A voice said behind me. I\n\nturned and found the Mullah walking with Mrs. Ootie on his arm. They followed us\n\ninto the garden and we sat under the shade of a willow tree.\n\n\"Today we have celebrated your sanity.\"\n\n\"If you really knew me...\" I said softly. \"I don't think you'd even let me in your\n\nMosque let alone invite me in to eat with you.\"\n\n\"God is in your heart.\" The Mullah said. \"And for that you are blessed.\"\n\n\"My father wouldn't agree...\" I said thinking about the recent trouble I'd caused him\n\nand wondering what he would say if he could see me here, in this black township,\n\nsurrounded by so called caffires, discussing God with a Mullah at the rear of a\n\nMosque.\n\n\"Then your father is a fool.\" Mrs. Ootie smiled. \"You risked your life for the sake of a\n\nstranger. You took his blood from your hands and wiped it in the face of his murderer;\n\nfor that God will always love you.\"\n\n\"Thank you...\" I said feeling the tears rolling in my eyes.\n\n\"Why do you cry?\" The Mullah asked softly. \"You should rejoice because for the rest\n\nof your life you will know that this act of kindness will make you a martyr in Gods\n\neyes.\"\n\n\"I did what anyone would do...\" I sobbed thinking about the events of that awful day\n\nand the look in the boy's eyes just before he was struck down.\n\n\"Not anyone...\" Mrs. Ootie whispered. \"You! .You did it.\"\n\nThe old woman took me in her arms and I cried with her for a few moments. Both lost\n\nin our thoughts, she thinking about the boy she had lost and me thinking about the\n\nman I'd become. I looked into the clear blue sky and saw white clouds there and,\n\nbeyond, them the stars shimmered in their void. What a beautiful world we shared I\n\nthought, and yet this world was so blighted by the acts of man I wondered if we truly\n\ndeserved to enjoy its wonders.\n\n\"Why do they treat people like this?\" I asked Mrs. Ootie after a while and she took off\n\nher glasses and rubbed her dark eyes shaking her head.\n\n\"Ask the Mullah...\" She whispered sitting beside me and shaking her head once again.\n\n\"He might know. I can't say that even in my years I can understand the ways of the\n\nworld. I just put it down to evil, Man is evil and we just have to deal with it.\"\n\n\"No, \" The Mullah smiled raising his eyes to God.\n\n\"Man is not evil. It is the things that man does that is evil. And how does man do these things?\n\nHe does them out of fear, he does them out of spite and he does them out of greed. If\n\nman did not harbour evil then spite would have no place in this world. If man could\n\nhave no envy there would be no place for greed and if man could learn to love, even\n\nin the face of hatred, surely there would be only peace.\"\n\n\"I disagree...\" Owen interjected angrily. \"Look at this woman, look at the conditions\n\nmy own parents have had to endure. I say things will only change if we fight and\n\nsmash the system. Every Sunday I go to Devils Peak and look out to sea. How many\n\nof us remember our people who are imprisoned on Robin Island just a mile off shore. How many remember and still fight for them. I'll tell you how many; not enough,\n\nthat's how many. I say we get guns and fight the war of all wars without fear.\n\nConfront them without mercy, just as our blood is spilt so shall theirs.\"\n\n\"Oh...\" The Mullah laughed. \"Such hard words for someone with such soft skin. No...\"\n\nHe continued.\n\n\"If we march with passive resistance instead of weapons; if we allow them kill us they will see others replace our dead and eventually their bullets will run out. On that day victory will be ours.\"\n\n\"It's true...\" Mrs. Ootie added. \"The world is watching our struggle and we must show\n\nthe world that we are better than those who oppress us.\"\n\nThe afternoon slipped by and soon it was time to go. I was surprised and happy to\n\nfind that the group of women who had met us at the train station earlier were waiting\n\nto accompany us back. They were all holding candles in glass jars and as the\n\nprocession led me through the streets I felt like a character from a Christmas story;\n\nGood King Wenceslas perhaps. The only difference was the songs that rang out in the\n\nnight and although I didn't know the words the message was unmistakable.\n\nThe group of women waited at the station with Owen and myself until the train\n\nrumbled in and quite to my surprise many of the women and even some of the boys\n\nwho protected the rear came and kissed me good-bye. Their smiles lit up the night and\n\nas the train pulled away from that place I left with them just a little part of myself.\n\n17\n\n\"There's a Shabeen in District Six tonight...\" Owen announced as the train rumbled\n\nthrough the darkness towards the Cape. \"Shall we go, they can be much better then\n\nWings; I love dancing with all the straight boys.\"\n\n\"Will I be safe...\" I asked.\n\n\"Safe?\" He laughed. \"My Dear, you're famous now and the only danger you may face\n\nis the stampede for your autograph.\"\n\n\"Be serious. I don't want to take any un-necessary risks.\"\n\n\"What are you like.\" He huffed. \"Come on it'll be fun.\"\n\n\"What time does it start....\" I sighed\n\n\"Early,\" He replied with a cheeky smile. \"Around ten, oh come on. We can have a\n\nSpliff at my place and a bonk beforehand if you want.\"\n\n\"Oh go on then....\"\n\nFour hours and a shag later we were queuing up outside a warehouse in the run down\n\ndistrict. Soon we were at the front of the queue and paying a tall transvestite in a huge\n\nblond wig our three Rand entry fee. Inside it was a familiar story, hundreds of Cape\n\nColoureds dancing to Soca and the fierce beat of African pop.\n\nI went to the bar and brought a drink before mooching onto the dance floor and\n\nshaking it about a bit. Being the only white face in the crowd, a situation I'd got\n\nused to, attracted the attention of most of the women who formed a throbbing circle around me. I must admit that I loved the attention and being naturally flamboyant did my best to\n\nentertain.\n\nWhen Owen squeezed through the crowd and wrapped his arms around my waist a\n\nshrill of delight went through the crowd. The lights were throbbing and our hips were\n\nrubbing together and the beat of the music just took us to another level; it was\n\nbrilliant.\n\nThe next couple of hours seemed like a hazy blur in my memory after a few more\n\nspirits and jaunts around the dance floor. I became aware of a commotion behind me\n\nand looked up to see several faces looking through the twilight in the same direction.\n\nDrunkenly I looked around and was shocked to see several policemen waving batons\n\nand thrusting through the crowd.\n\n\"Jesus....\" Owen shouted. \"It's a raid.\"\n\nThe music went off and confusion rang out as people scattered here, there and\n\neverywhere to avoid the baton blows. Owen and myself were separated and then I was\n\nbeing thrown into the back of another police vehicle. Not again, I thought as I looked\n\naround at the glum black faces that accompanied me.\n\nThe vehicle burst into motion and we were taken to another police station and\n\nunloaded in the back court yard. A thick set Boar ushered me and my companions into\n\nthe station's charge room where I was surveyed with disgust by the assembled police.\n\n\"Put this one in the white cells.\" The sergeant behind the desk barked. I saw that I was\n\nbeing separated from those I'd been brought there with and objected.\n\n\"If you're going to lock me up...\" I shouted. \"I want to go in the same cells as these\n\npeople, my friends.\"\n\nThe cops looked amazed as I made this foolish and drunken statement. The sergeant\n\nlooked at me from behind his desk and sniffed.\n\n\"You have your priorities all wrong, boy.\" He snarled.\n\n\"That's a fucking joke.\" I shouted. \"I'm British you know, I know my rights....\"\n\n\"You do...\" He shouted back. \"do you? RIGHT!\"\n\nWith that the sergeant came from behind his desk and pressed his face into mine. \"If\n\nthat's what you think son,\" He said softly. \"You should have stayed in the UK\"\n\nHe turned and looked at the other officers. \"Put them all in the white cells.\"\n\nI was herded with the others through the station. The group I had been brought in with\n\nwere locked in large white room which had a clean bed and even a shower in the\n\ncorner.\n\nNext to that was a toilet room which had toilet paper in its rack.\n\n\"Hay...\" I said aloud. \"This is okay.\"\n\n\"Yha...\" One of the black guys said as he tested the bed. \"We don't even have a\n\nshower at home. I've been here before...\" He continued. \"The cells they normally put\n\nus in have nothing in them, not even a window.\"\n\n\"It's a good job they didn't put us in there then.\" I smiled. I lay on the bed and\n\nwatched as a couple of the guys ran the water and a cloud of steam rose up from the\n\nshower pan.\n\n\"It's hot too.\" One said stripping off his clothes.\n\nIt was really amazing as I lay there seeing around twenty straight men just strip off\n\nand shower naked. I was really quite impressed by the general size of their dicks and\n\nfound the whole experience rather stimulating. \"White...\" One of them called. \"Come\n\nand shower with us.\"\n\n\"In a minute...\" I replied placing a pillow over my hard cock. I'd never really had the\n\nchance to really look at black skin before that.\n\nOh, I'd slept with black guys, or coloured (as the S.A people called them: mixed race)\n\nguys but I'd mostly been facing the other way. This was the first chance I'd had to\n\nreally look at their strong hard bodies close up.\n\nAs the water ran down their legs and dripped from their hard bellies onto those\n\nlong cocks I really saw the beauty of it. Like soft leather it shone. Even the area\n\nunder their foreskin was beautiful, like a plump black cherry. Every black man\n\nknows that his helmet is dark, but for me, a stupid white boy, it was a gorgeous revelation.\n\n\"Come on, White...\" Another shouted. \"..Let's look at your skinny white body.\"\n\nI stood and stripped off my clothing. Removing my underwear was a little bit\n\nfrightening because I didn't want to face them with a hard cock. My interest in their\n\nbodies had become purely functional, I tried to tell myself to keep the blood pressure\n\ndown.\n\nYes, purely functional. The water was hot and one of the guys took some soap and\n\nrubbed my back.\n\n\"Your hair is long, boy.\" He said as the water forced the slight curl\n\nout and my hair lay flat against my back down to my waist.\n\n\"You also have the arse of a girl.\" The others all laughed nervously, obviously aware of\n\nhis interest in me and unsure if it was okay or not.\n\n\"Shut up...\" I said, slightly embarrassed by the comment and their reaction to it. St, It was nice feeling his strong fingers rubbing the soap into my shoulders and down my back brushing my buttocks for a second.\n\n\"That feels really nice...\"\n\nI turned around and noticed at once that this guy had a semi hard cock and it stuck out\n\nfrom his body a good ten inches. One of the other men said something in Afrikaans\n\nand they all laughed again. The others got out and dried themselves, cracking more jokes about\n\nme no doubt, which because of the language, went above my head.\n\n\"What's so funny?\" I asked as another roar of laughter filled the room.\n\n\"They're wondering who's going to get the bed.\"\n\n\"I think me and you should share it.\" I smiled looking it his eyes.\n\n\"So do I.\" The man replied.\n\nAs we dried ourselves off the others made themselves comfortable on the floor and I\n\nwas aware that they all lay with their backs to us. My soapy friend used the towel on\n\nhis dick for much longer than it actually needed and then he turned the cell light off.\n\nIn the darkness I slipped in between those crisps white sheets and felt his warm body\n\nslide in next to me.\n\nWithout a sound I felt his hands on my hips turning me over and then that long hard\n\ncock was pressing into my arse. It was the biggest dick I'd ever felt and knew that it\n\nwould hurt like hell if it was shoved up my bottom. I just moved around a little and\n\nstimulated it with my buttocks for a while.\n\nThis did the trick and soon his come was splashing between my shoulder blades.\n\nBecause he had had the decency to be holding my dick as the happened I came\n\nat the same time and then we both fell to sleep in each other's arms.\n\nWhen I opened my eyes I heard someone banging on the cell door. Daylight was\n\nstreaming into the cell and I looked up to see a white face in the door hatch.\n\n\"You...\"\n\n\"Who me?\" I said with a hung-over drawl.\n\n\"Yes you...\" The officer shouted. \"...get dressed. Your father is here.\"\n\nI did as I was told and stepped to the cell door as it was flung open. My last glance\n\nback saw two blurry eyes peering from under those sheets as the door was slammed\n\nbehind me.\n\n\"Your father is going to beat your arse.\" The officer said leading me towards the\n\ncharge room. As we turned into it I saw Dad standing with a group of\n\nofficers laughing about something. His face changed as he saw me coming towards\n\nhim.\n\n\"David...\" He shouted. \"Just you wait till I get you home.\"\n\n\"How did you know I was here?\" I asked in a daze.\n\n\"Your parents reported you missing two days ago.\" One of the police men said in a\n\nthick Boer accent.\n\n\"They thought your arse had been murdered.\"\n\n\"Really...\" I said rubbing my arse. \"...No, it's really quite alive, abused a little, but alive.\"\n\n\"You won't be joking once I get you home, my boy.\" Dad said sternly. He had to sign\n\nsome forms and we were eventually led from the station into the hot South African\n\nsun.\n\nI followed him in silence to the car and we climbed in. After going a short distance\n\nfrom the station the awkward atmosphere was broken as he enquired in a flat monotone.\n\n\"Where have you been since Tuesday? We have been going out of our minds.\"\n\nI looked at him and saw genuine concern on his face.\n\n\"Didn't you think your mother and I would miss you. Are we made of wood, no\n\nemotions, or what? This isn't the first time you've gone, either...\"\n\n\"After what happened at the yard I thought you'd be cross with me.\" I interjected\n\nmawkishly hoping to illicit some of Dad's newly discovered emotions.\n\n\"Fuck that cunt...\" He said abruptly, with that fierce anger I'd expected earlier, but he was\n\nreferring to Van Der Westhazen.\n\n\"After what he did we made him a security risk and banned him from Navel premises.\n\nDo you think I'd take the word of a Boer over that of my own son?\"\n\n\"I don't know...\" I replied avoiding eye contact. \"...Er no, of course not..\"\n\nLooking out the window and I couldn't help but feel guilty because, after all, I had\n\nbeen smoking drugs while my father was my boss; I'd selfishly never considered what would\n\nhappen to him if I'd been caught.\n\n\"You seemed pretty angry at the time.\"\n\n\"We had to show that we took the allegation seriously; it is government property for\n\nChrist's sake, but David; you didn't have to run away, especially out here...\" He clenched his teeth and nodded to the scene we were driving through; an area which had a lot of Bantu and Coloured\n\npedestrians strolling around minding their own business.\n\n\"...Out There....\" My father continued repeating the white propaganda he'd heard or read\n\nIn the local newspapers.\n\n\"...once these black bastards get hold of you, well, that's it.\"\n\nI didn't have the nerve to tell him that they'd already got hold of me and that it was\n\nbliss, hilariously funny, exciting and something I intended to repeat as much as possible.\n\nI spent the rest of our journey looking out of the window thinking about the\n\nprevious evening and how it had ended. Wondered if Owen had got away and if he\n\nwas okay.\n\nSecretly I planned to excuse myself as soon as we were in Milnerton and make my\n\nescape. I could hike to Constantia and visit Boudwan for a few days or at least until\n\nthe weekend. Or I could go to Owens's place direct and then to Boudwan's; but what if\n\nOwen was still locked away? I tried to quash the idea before I became too anxious;\n\nafter all, with my parents keeping an eye on me I wouldn't be able to just walk in\n\nand then walk out again.\n\nI'd have to keep my nerve and wait until the time was right before making my move;\n\nafter all, they may have already made plans to ground me, I thought to myself.\n\nI sniffed and tested the water.\n\n\"I suppose you're going to ground me when we get back?\" I asked confidently,\n\nto hide the fact that I was thinking of going straight back out as soon as we got home.\n\n\"Of course not.\" Dad replied as the car pulled into Milnerton and headed towards our residential\n\nestate.\n\n\"But we're going away till Friday so we want you to keep an eye on the flat.\" He sniffed as the car pulled up outside our small block.\n\n\"You're going away?\" I replied loudly as the opportunities for reckless fun opened up before me.\n\n\"Where are you going...\" I stuttered. \"....Why didn't you tell me earlier?\n\n\"You weren't around.\" He said abruptly as he got out the car and slammed the door in\n\nmy face. I jumped out the passenger door and ran after him. \"Dad, wait.\"\n\n\"You weren't around...\" He repeated with that smug look that he often gave mother\n\nwhenever she missed any of his leisure pursuits. These hobbies, like eating out and late dances, happened after he'd been drinking with the boys and forgotten he was a married man with kids.\n\nThen the lads, the boys, the men, thugs and hooligans that Dad liked to drink with; even those he\n\ndidn't know from Adam and had only just met; would get into cabs and visit a nightclub, or late restaurant and even take in a late film. I remember that when mum got that look she would\n\npunch him, not just for leaving her at home with the kids all night, but for spending all her housekeeping money; yes, I knew that look well.\n\n\"So we booked up just two tickets and our plane leaves in about three hours.\"\n\n\"Booked, what tickets, to where?\"\n\n\"I've got a meeting with the Admiral in Pretoria. Me and your mother are flying tonight\n\nand intend spending a couple of days exploring the Capital City. We'll be back on Friday\n\nevening or Saturday afternoon; I'll call and let you know.\"\n\n\"You can't go to Pretoria and leave me here.\" I protested weakly. \"What am I going to eat.\"\n\n\"There will be food in the fridge.\" He laughed as I followed him up the stairs to the\n\nflat.\n\nHe opened the front door with his key and I followed him in. \"All you have to do is\n\nanswer the phone and take messages; it'll be a doddle.\"\n\n\"So I'm a pissing human answering machine now am I?\"\n\n\"Watch your language; you.\" Mum said as she appeared from the kitchen. \"So it was\n\nhim down there?\"\n\n\"Yha.\" Dad said as he took of his shoes and turned on the T.V.\n\n\"All we knew was they had a British lad in custody who matched your description. It\n\ncould have been anyone.\"\n\n\"They didn't say that I'd been arrested, then? I asked hesitantly.\n\n\"Arrested? Mum wailed from the kitchen as pots collided in the sink.\n\n\"What were you arrested for?\" Dad asked angrily.\n\n\"I wasn't arrested...\" I lied hoping to back-step away from the subject. \"I was just picked up\n\nas I couldn't produce any identification. That's all.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Dad said, suitably reassured, as his attention fixated towards the T.V\n\n\"That's all we need, you getting arrested.\"\n\n\"Well you two are going away...\" I said with a sigh. \"...swanning off to Pretoria without me;\n\nso you wouldn't be much use anyway.\"\n\n\"Don't sulk, Darling...\" Mother said as she dragged a suitcase into the lounge.\n\n\"...frowning will only make your forehead wrinkled.\"\n\n\"What am I supposed to do while you two are goofing off around the country?\"\n\n\"We're not goofing off anywhere...\" Dad interjected tutting loudly because he wasn't\n\nable to concentrate on the T.V\n\n\"...I've got a business meeting and your mother is coming to keep me company.\n\nIt's all perfectly legitimate and you would have been coming too if we knew\n\nwhere you were. As you were swanning off all over the place when I booked the\n\ntickets; tough! You'll have to stay here.\"\n\n\"Don't make excuses Dear.\" Mother said as she passed Dad his coat. \"He can spend\n\nthe next three days thinking about the past week and weather it was worth it. Come\n\non, we have a plane to catch.\"\n\n\"What do they want to see you about in Pretoria anyway?\" I asked as they walked\n\ntowards the door.\n\n\"I don't know.\" Dad replied.\n\n\"They may be promoting him..\" Mother said as they went off down the stairs.\n\n\"Don't forget to keep the place tidy...\" She shouted as they disappeared from view.\n\n\"...See you on Friday.\"\n\n\"Right.\" I said slamming the door.\n\n\"Hi, is that Boudwan?\" I said into the telephone receiver after the ringing tone\n\nstopped.\n\n\"Yes, who is that; David?\"\n\n\"It certainly is...\" I said breezily. \"How about picking me up from Milnerton and taking me out\n\nfor the evening. My parents have gone away.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's nice...\" He hissed down the line. \"Rudi's cooking some lobster. I'll ask him\n\nto do a portion extra, We're going to the naturist beach tomorrow, would you like to\n\ncome?\"\n\n\"Okay...\" I replied wondering what a naturist beach was.\n\n\"Okay, I'll get a room ready for you. I'll pick you up around eight; okay.\"\n\n\"See you then...\"\n\nI hung the phone up and heard a tap on the door. Wondering who it could be I went\n\nand looked through the spy hole without any concern. There was a large white man\n\nstanding outside so I opened the door..\n\n\"Can I help you?\" I asked peering through the gap.\n\n\"Mr. (Deleted)?\" The man asked officiously as he looked through a pair of dark sun\n\nglasses towards me.\n\n\"Do you want my dad?\" I asked.\n\n\"Are you David (Deleted)?\" The man asked in a thick Boer accent.\n\n\"Yes...\" I replied wondering what he wanted and what this was all about.\n\n\"I'm a police officer...\" he continued through tight lips.\n\n\"Really.\" I said opening the door a little wider. \"What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Let's just say this is an informal piece of advice...\"\n\n\"Advice?\" I said wondering what he was getting at.\n\n\"Yes, advice.\" The man sniffed. \"You are a visitor to this country and we are taking\n\nthis into consideration...\"\n\n\"You are, are you?\"\n\n\"Yes, we are...\" He peered over my shoulder. \"...we know your parents have gone away\n\nfor a few days but if we have to come back it'll be at a time when they are home.\n\nSo far you've escaped prosecution twice. I'm here to tell you that if this happens again you\n\nwill not get off so lightly. Do I make myself clear?\"\n\n\"Not really, just what exactly are you getting at?\"\n\n\"Caffires, Mr. (Deleted)..\" The man looked behind him and I saw a police van waiting with its engine running.\n\n\"If you want to be treated like a caffire you are going the right way about it. This\n\ncould be very dangerous for you.\"\n\n\"In what way could it be dangerous...\" I asked indignantly, feeling a little angry\n\nby this man's arrogance.\n\n\"...are you going to shoot me because of the company I keep?\"\n\n\"Just take this warning seriously Mr. (Deleted); you will not be warned again.\" He\n\nturned and walked away. As I closed the door behind me I wondered how they'd got\n\nmy address and what was going to happen next. I wondered if it was safe to go to\n\nBoudwan's later, but after a few minutes I put it out of my head and thought, fuck them,\n\nnothing was going to change who I was or dictate who I mixed with..\n\n18\n\nJust as the brilliant disc of the African sun set over the baked Cape landscape and the blue\n\nshadow of twilight crept slowly up the side of Table Mountain, I stepped gingerly from\n\nthe flat towards the quiet road that ran beside the shore line of the bay toward the town.\n\nBoudwan's Rolls Royce was waiting for me and, as I climbed into the back seat I saw just\n\nacross the road, the same police van that had been watching me earlier. I shook my head\n\nand smiled as the car door was closed behind me and we set off.\n\n\"Do you know them?\" Boudwan asked as I looked back at the van disappearing into\n\nthe distance behind us.\n\n\"Let's just say...\" I replied, sure that the van was not going to follow us,\n\n\"...that they do not appreciate my socializing with blacks and coloureds.\"\n\n\"Oh, David...\" Boudwan grimaced. \"You should be careful. I know Owen is always\n\nasking you to go on marches with him but, Sweetie, you have more to lose then he does.\n\nThese people will kill you if they think you are a threat.\"\n\n\"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"You should still be careful, my friend. I have been in South Africa for around five years\n\nand never once have I stirred trouble up for me. I know I have an inter racial\n\nrelationship but I do not go out and shout about it from the rooftops. They would\n\njust kill me. It's much better if I do my work, let my money and taxes benefit the country and\n\nwhen I've had enough, I can go home.\"\n\nHe looked ahead for a while in a troubled silence and then dropped the camp affectation to\n\ntell me something seriously .\n\n\"I had a friend who, like you, thought he could change things.\"\n\n\"Don't tell me...\" I said with a smile. \"...they killed him?\"\n\n\"You may joke.\" Boudwan said lowering his voice into a whisper and dropping his usual gay affect.\n\n\"But they locked that boy up for terrorist activities; terrorist activities no less. He got\n\ntwenty years for this stupidity.\"\n\n\"What was he doing?\" I asked. \"Making bombs?\"\n\n\"Not Bombs, David; just trouble...\" He sniffed loudly. \"Just making trouble for the\n\nauthorities; you know, going into the townships without the proper visas; going on\n\nmarches and that sort of thing...\"\n\n\"I've done all that.\"\n\n\"Well consider yourself lucky.\" He said looking at me intently. \"They will now wait till\n\nyou do something that they consider subversive, and when you cross the line\n\nthat they have drawn; they will fall on you like a ton of bricks.\"\n\n\"I think they have shown me the line...\" I said thinking about my visitor earlier on.\n\n\"Take my advice.\" He said glancing at me momentarily. \"Don't cross it. Now, we are\n\ngoing to a party tonight, a rich friend of mine has hired a club and it's invite only;\n\nhow would you like to go with us?\"\n\n\"As long as I don't have to go in drag.\" I replied.\n\n\"Oh...\" He sighed, adopting his regular super queen intonation.\n\n\"But you have such divine legs Sweetie.\"\n\nSometime later we were back in the Rolls heading towards town. Rudi was dressed to\n\nthe nines in what he called his \"Baby Jane\" outfit. A small pink dress with a large\n\nribbon bow at the back and a curly wig that framed his face in tight golden ringlets.\n\nI was wearing a white suit that Boudwan had brought for Rudi, which he'd never\n\nworn, it was a little too big apparently.\n\nIt was made from Raw Silk and made me look rich and suave when worn with a\n\nblack silk shirt and a pair of Boudwan's 24 caret gold cufflinks. We were all\n\na little drunk having polished off at least three bottles of Champaign so I was glad to see\n\nhis usual driver was behind the steering wheel.\n\n\"So who is throwing this party...\" I asked no one in particular as the car pulled up\n\nbeside the flower market.\n\n\"And why is he throwing it?\"\n\n\"No-one needs a reason to throw a party.\" Rudi hissed flicking his ringlets back.\n\n\"My friend, he's had enough of South Africa.\" Boudwan replied glumly as the engine stopped running.\n\n\"These are very unsettled times and he is worried, like I am, that once Rhodesia falls\n\nSouth Africa will follow; Smith is already talking about having fair elections next year...\"\n\n\"So he should.\" Rudi said abruptly. \"It's about time we had the vote.\"\n\n\"You, yes.\" Boudwan said as we got out the car. \"But you are educated, most\n\ncoloureds are educated. But the Bantu, well, look what happened in Uganda. There will\n\nbe too much inter-tribal conflict. Perhaps there won't be, but for Europeans who\n\nhave the choice to stay ,and possibly be involved in a bloodbath, or get out;\n\nwell, most of them will choose to leave. Like my good friend Maurice.\"\n\n\"What about you Boudwan...\" I said following him and Rudi down the darkened street.\n\n\"...will you get cold feet and leave?\"\n\n\"Don't ask him that, Darling, not right now....\" Rudi smiled as we turned a corner and\n\nfound a crowd of people fighting to get into a club. There was no semblance of a queue, no barrier or cheerful door staff; just a well dressed bun-fight.\n\n\",,,ah, this must be it.\"\n\n\"I followed Boudwan who held three tickets in the air as we fought our way through the\n\nexpensively dressed crowd who appeared to be uninvited but desperately hopeful. We were let in by three big bouncers who were holding everyone else at bay; just inside the club's door we were\n\ngreeted by Boudwan's friend. A middle aged man with an elaborate comb-over, too much perfume and who was weighed down by several thick gold chains and bracelets.\n\n\"Boudwan...\" He shouted with a fey affect as elaborate as that comb-over perched upon his head; then this man minced closer and did the kissy-kissy mime to both Boudwan and Rudi.\n\n\"Rudi, how good of you to come.\"\n\n\"Maurice..\" Boudwan said taking his friend's hand. \"This is David, the British lad I\n\ntold you about.\"\n\n\"Yes...\" Maurice hissed taking my hand and putting his unwanted arm over my shoulder.\n\n\"I see what you mean; his eyes are beautiful; so green.\"\n\n\"Thank you..\" I smiled as Maurice gently patted my bottom and gave me a flirty smile; he was absolutely repulsive, I thought, returning the smile but holding back as I did not want to flirt or give that impression.\n\n\"Now go in there and have some food. The drink is at the back and those bowls of charlie are superbcalifragaistic...\"Maurice sang, as camp as Christmas.\n\n\"... help yourselves Darlings, it's all freeeeeeee.\"\n\n\"Free cocaine...\" Rudi laughed. \"...how thoughtful of you.\"\n\nI followed him and Boudwan into the hall as directed and was amazed to find another mirror\n\nball reflecting tiny multi coloured dots across the floor and ceiling. There must be, I thought, a small factory in the cape producing these things day and night specifically for gay get-togethers; Mirror-Balls Are Us, perhaps.. Music was thumping loudly and I recognized the voice of Donna Summer as it filled the room with sound.\n\nBad Girls.. Toot Toot.\n\nRudi took my hand and led me to a glass table which had bowls of white powder lined\n\nup at intervals on top. He used one of Boudwan's credit cards to make up two long,\n\nfat lines and passed me a rolled twenty Rand note to sniff it with.\n\nBad Girls, Toot Toot...\n\nI looked around as the numbing taste hit the back of my throat and down my tongue.\n\nBoudwan was placing food on a plate and pouring some brandy into three glasses.\n\n\"Have a drink..\" He said passing me a glass filled with the brown liquid. I knocked it\n\nback in one hit and soon I was dancing across the floor with Rudi in my arms doing a\n\nperverse take on the tango.\n\nTalking 'bout those bad, bad Girls, Toot Toot.....\n\nSome time, and several sniffs later, I found myself in a toilet cubicle staring down Maurice's\n\ndick. He had been thrusting it into my mouth like I had no sensation from the chin\n\nup; I didn't want or encourage this attention and, in my inebriated state, initially thought I was being pestered by a flying sausage.\n\nWhen I opened my eyes and saw it was attached to the comb-over oddity I had a mini stroke. To prevent myself vomiting all over him I had to push the foul thing away and give his dick a slap. I had been trying to have a pee sitting down because I was giddy, when Maurice burst into the cubicle obviously thinking having a shit was some sort of come on.\n\nI didn't even realize he was sticking it in my mouth until it rubbed the vomit centre at\n\nthe back of my throat and I gagged.\n\n\"What is that lump on the side of your helmet?\" I asked through a bombed out blur, my\n\nfocus suddenly returned as the numbness left my head and feeling came back to my lips;\n\nlips his flying sausage had been dive bombing.\n\n\"Don't worry about that, my love...\" He said thrusting it into my face again.\n\n\"...Just suck the fucking thing.\"\n\n\"No..\" I shrieked, clasping my fingers around his drooping scrotum and squeezing his\n\nballs as hard as I could. His dick slowly bobbed into focus and I saw the lump in\n\nmore detail, it was like a boil but with a weeping head.\n\n\"That's fucking disgusting...\" I shouted, squeezing his sweaty balls harder.\n\n\"You're fucking hurting me, you bitch.\" He screamed and I squeezed even harder.\n\n\"Let my balls go.\" Maurice shouted as his comb-over bounced up and down on his head\n\nas if the hamster had a life of its own.\n\n\"Not till you tell me what that fucking disgusting lump is.\"\n\n\"I don't know...\" He squealed like a pig. . \"...I've had it for about a week but it's only\n\nbeen weeping for the last day or so.\"\n\n\"It's fucking gross...\"\n\n\"Yha...\" He screamed as his face turned puce red. \"...I think it's syphilis.\"\n\n\"WHAT...\" I shouted pulling his balls down, right through my tight grip which made him\n\ncurl up in agony.\n\n\"...and you stuck it in my fucking mouth?\"\n\n\"Well I'm going back to Holland tomorrow, I didn't think...\"\n\n\"You fucking little shit.\" I spat rushing out the cubical to find a group of amazed people\n\nqueuing up outside waiting to use the toilet. Their jaws were drooping as they watched this  \nmini drama unfold.\n\n\"Well?\" I shouted as they looked at me dumbfounded. I rushed to a sink and\n\nstarted to wash my mouth out. In the mirror above the sink I saw Maurice fall\n\nout of the cubical holding his balls.\n\n\"That's really nice, that is. You discover you have a STD, so you decide to give it to a total\n\nstranger; just because you are leaving the country and you don't have to give a shit.\"\n\n\"You really hurt me...\" He sniffled. \"...my balls are going to hurt for a week.\"\n\n\"OH FUCK OFF.\" I shouted back. \"If you've given me syphilis, I swear....\"\n\n\"Don't be like that Darling...\" He said with a camp snarl. \"...after all, some bitch\n\ngave it to me.\"\n\n\"Oh really, well, bitch....\" I said pushing him against the wall and shouting right into his repulsive gob.\n\n\"...You should have kept it to yourself.\"\n\n19\n\nThe following day I was sitting in the sparsely furnished, waiting room of the local clap clinic;\n\nwith Owen who had come for moral support.. It was a inter-racial affair and as I looked around the waiting room I was aware that once again I was the only white face represented. Nervously I turned the ring on my index finger hoping that my name would be called soon.\n\nSuddenly the ring slipped off and disappeared between the seats. I made a cursory inspection between my feet and, assured that it was gone for good and not wanting to stand out\n\nmore then I already did, tried to forget about it.\n\nSuddenly a man in a long white coat with glasses that were as thick as a beer glass\n\nbottom appeared with a clipboard.\n\n\"Mr. (Deleted)..\" He said looking around the room at the sad collection of\n\nembarrassed men. I stood and followed him into a side room.\n\nWe sat at a small table and he pulled a sheet of questions towards him and poised over\n\nthem with his pen.\n\n\"Before we start...\" I said shyly. \"...While in the waiting room I was fiddling about with\n\nmy signet ring and I've dropped it. Could you ask the cleaner to keep an eye out for\n\nit?\"\n\n\"Oh, I can do better than that...\" He said standing and leading me back into the waiting\n\nroom. Then, with me cowering behind him, the doctor announced with a loud,\n\nbooming voice.\n\n\"Has anyone seen this man's ring?\"\n\nI could have died of shame as the assembled men looked at us blankly.\n\n\"Well...\" The doctor continued. \"...If anyone has seen this man's ring please give your name\n\nto the receptionist.\"\n\nI followed him back into the room thinking that he obviously didn't know what\n\ncockneys meant when they referred to someone's 'ring' in London. We sat back at the\n\ntable and he inspected me with curiosity.\n\n\"Now, what can I do for you?\" The doctor asked peering through his thick glasses at\n\nme.\n\n\"I think I've caught the clap.\" I replied simply.\n\n\"No, no, no...\" He hissed tapping his pen upon the form. \"We make the diagnosis\n\naround here. Now what makes you think that you have a venereal disease?\"\n\n\"Well...\" I stuttered over the words being so embarrassed by the situation I'd got myself into.\n\n\"I was at a party...\"\n\n\"Yes, you were at a party, yes?\"\n\n\"I'd had a lot to drink, and food...\"\n\n\"Yes, food.\"\n\n\"Then, it was in my mouth and I saw a lump, you know...\" I was trying to be discrete, mainly because I felt so stupid, but in-reality I was just confusing the issue.\n\n\"The food had a lump...\" The doctor said looking at me as if I had a mental illness.\n\n\"...you cannot get a venereal disease from food.\"\n\n\"Not food...\" I stuttered. \"It was someone's cock.\"\n\n\"Surely you mean chicken...\" He said with raised eyebrows. \"...don't you mean chicken?\"\n\n\"No...\" I stuttered. \"...dick, you know.\"\n\n\"So,\" The doctor sighed. \"Your friend dick had a party and you ate some\n\nchicken which had a lump; but why do you think you have a venereal disease?\"\n\n\"He told me he had it?\"\n\n\"Who did, Dick?\" The doctor tapped his pen against the desk.\n\n\"Look I think we better go through the form. When did you last have\n\nsexual intercourse?\"\n\n\"What...\"I replied. \"...penetration?\"\n\n\"Yes...\" He said with a sigh. \"...this is intercourse.\"\n\n\"Ages ago...\" I sighed.\n\n\"Well.\" He huffed looking even more confused. \"Do you have any pains when you pee?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Sores or lumps?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Discharges?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Unusual smells?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Any difference at all?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then why do you think...\"\n\n\"You have a venereal disease...\" I interjected sarcastically. \"...well I had a bloke's penis\n\nshoved in my gob last night and noticed he had a sore. He told me it was a venereal disease\n\nand that's why I am here?\"\n\n\"You sucked a penis...\" The doctor grimaced. \"...knowing your partner had a venereal\n\ndisease?\"\n\n\"I didn't know at the time and I did not suck..\" I gasped exasperated by this twat.\n\n\"...and he wasn't my partner!\"\n\n\"But you saw a lump.\"\n\n\"After, I saw it after. Look...\" I said as the interview started to grind me down.\n\n\"...I only found out after he'd stuffed it in my mouth.\"\n\nThe doctor looked at me for a long while in silence. Then, raising one eyebrow, and\n\nexamining me closely, asked.\n\n\"So, you are a homosexual?\"\n\n\"Oh, for god's sake?\" I spurted out. \"Yes, of course I am, I wouldn't have a cock in my\n\nmouth if I wasn't, would I?\"\n\n\"Hmmm.\" He said pointing to a medical table set against a nearby wall with a paper sheet over it.\n\n\"Would you remove your trousers and lay down over there?\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked\n\n\"I wish to inspect your back passage; you may have lumps or sores that you are not aware of?\"\n\n\"Look.\" I said abruptly, gradually raising my voice with each word.\n\n\"If I had a lump or sore in my back passage why do you think I'd not be aware of it?\"\n\n\"It's not always visible...\" He sniffed adding \"...I need to inspect it anyway.\"\n\nHe stood up and, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, waited for me to undress.\n\n\"I don't mean to be funny.\" I said sarcastically. \"But I only had the fucking thing in my gob\n\nand, unless that can give me a sore arse, I'd just prefer to have a blood test to see if he\n\ninfected me; if not I can go.\"\n\n\"Are you a doctor?\" He replied\n\n\"No, of course not.\"\n\n\"Then stop protesting and let me inspect your back passage.\"\n\nReluctantly I dropped my pants and lay on the table with my arse in the air.\n\n\"Just because I said it was a man I caught the clap from you automatically\n\nassume that I've had anal sex; don't you think that's pretty presumptuous of you?\"\n\nThe doctor placed a strong light at the end of the bed and had a good look.\n\n\"Hmmm\". He said softly. \"Does this hurt?\"\n\n\"Fucking Jesus.\" I shouted, feeling his finger get stuck in like he was digging in his nose for a bogy.\n\n\"That would hurt anyone. Haven't you ever heard of lubrication.\"\n\n\"Hmmm.\" He repeated softly. \"There doesn't appear to be any signs of infection here.\"\n\n\"Oh, really...\" I sarcastically replied. \"...well whoopee.\"\n\n\"You can get dressed, I think we need to give you a blood test just to make sure?\"\n\nBy then I was too tired to protest. I got dressed and stuck out my arm waiting for the\n\ninevitable needle. He then told me to wait in the room next door while they tested my\n\nblood. After about twenty minutes I was called back in and the doctor looked across\n\nthe table at me.\n\n\"You have Syphilis.\"\n\n\"Really.\" I said smugly. \"I would never have guessed.\"\n\n\"You will have to give me the names of the person who infected you so that we can\n\nget him treated.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, \"I said with a yawn. \"He knows he has it and is already getting treatment.\"\n\n\"In South Africa you must tell a doctor who your last sexual partner was; come now, his name please.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay...\" I sighed. The doctor poised with his pen over a note pad as I said.\n\n\"Arthur Doyle, Arthur Conan-Doyle.\"\n\n\"Arthur Doyle?\" The doctor said as he scribbled this nonsense down. \"Is Conan his middle name?\"\n\n\"That's right..\" I smiled. \"Arthur Conan Doyle, as in Conan the Barbarian.\"\n\n\"I see, and this, Mr. Doyle,\" The doctor enquired suspiciously. \"Where does he live?\"\n\n\"999 Letsbe Avenue.\"\n\n\"Is that in Cape Town?\"\n\n\"Of course...\" I smiled. \"It's just down the road from here.\"\n\n\"Right.\" The doctor smiled back. \"If you go through there the nurse will give you your\n\nfirst injection.\"\n\n\"The first injection?\" I repeated as it dawned on me that this infection was not going\n\nto budge with just a pill; oh God, I thought, this is going to drag on forever.\n\n\"Yes, then you must come back every week for the next month and then once every\n\nthree months. Okay, good day.\"\n\n\"Will I be infectious...\" I asked pensively before I stood up. \"...after my first injection, will I\n\nstill carry the infection and remain infectious?\"\n\n\"Okay...\" The doctor ignored my perfectly sensible enquiry and shooed me like a bothersome fly.\n\n\"...good day.\"\n\nWith that I was waved away.\n\n20\n\nI took Owen back to my parents flat and as we got off the bus in Milnerton I saw a\n\nhearse pulling into the Cul De sac near where I lived. There was a small group of\n\npeople standing around a collection of flowers. We walked in silence to the group and\n\nwatched as a thickly set coffin was removed from the house.\n\n\"Has he died?\" I asked an elderly man who stood in stony silence watching the\n\nhearse being loaded.\n\n\"Yes,\" The man replied. \"Got it at the front.\" He added; referring to the\n\nfront of fire in Mozambique, rather than his chest.\n\n\"That's so sad...\"I said simply as a wave of grief swept over me. Remembering the\n\nnight of passion I'd spent with that man and thinking about the way I felt in his\n\narms almost made me cry; but was unable to let my emotions go with all those\n\nstrangers watching. Owen didn't seem to understand why the spectacle should\n\ninterest me so and asked, after I dragged him away so quickly.\n\n\"Did you know him?\"\n\n\"Only briefly.\" I replied positively shaking with pent up rage.\n\n\"That's sad...\" Owen stated as he gave me an odd look. \"...he was a in the forces and\n\nso he was aware of the dangers?\"\n\n\"He didn't want to fight for this country; he was forced to take up arms and kill.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" Owen said as we turned into the next street.\n\n\"He told me?\" I lied.\n\nIn truth he didn't have to tell me as I could feel his fears and apprehensions during the night\n\nwe spent together. I didn't even think he was gay; just lonely and reluctant to go\n\nto his possible death without the feeling of a little intimacy.\n\nI guess if I could take anything from this awful experience it was that I was able to\n\nreciprocate and provide the closeness, the intimacy and passion he so desperately craved.\n\nWe walked to my flat in silence until Owen chirped up in his ever positive way;\n\n\"This area is lovely.\"\n\n\"Really?\" I huffed.\n\n\"You are very lucky to be able to live here...\" Owen added looking at the manicured lawns\n\nand colourful flowering beds of shrubs.\n\n\"It's very different to District Six.\"\n\n\"I suppose it is.\" I said vacantly as I led him to the street door.\n\n\"When do your parents get back from Pretoria?\"\n\n\"In two days.\" I replied as his chatter began to take my mind off the dead soldier.\n\n\"You can stay tonight and tomorrow we'll go back to Boudwan's.\"\n\n\"If you think it'll be okay; I've never stayed in this area before and I've lived in Cape\n\nTown all my life. I bet you don't get many roaches here?\"\n\n\"Only the neighbours.\" I giggled.\n\nI made us some drinks and we went on the patio to watch the sun set over\n\nTable Mountain. It looked dark blue in the late afternoon haze and the sun was\n\njust about bearable as it sat on the distant horizon shimmering above the deep blue\n\nAtlantic.\n\n\"How long have you been here?\" Owen asked as the sunlight dwindled and the vodka\n\nwe were drinking lightened our mood.\n\n\"Too long,\" I replied with a smile. \"Only a year, but what a year it's been.\"\n\n\"What is it like in London?\" He asked running his fingers through his thick hair.\n\n\"Well,\" I said slowly, pondering the reply to such a broad question.\n\n\"They think that people like us can't walk on the same side of the street. In fact they\n\nhave a really perverse understanding of the system out here and miss all the\n\nimportant stuff.\n\nLike how people like you are held back and not given a chance to get on. Like how\n\nMrs. Ooties son was cut down before his life had even started. Like the way that coffin\n\ncarried the body of a victim of the system; but a white victim. They miss all that.\"\n\n\"I hear that the British government have been the ones pushing the Rhodesian's to give\n\nup apartheid. There's talk of Smith resigning and now that Vorster has gone maybe P.W\n\nBotha will allow South Africa to go the same way. I can feel change in the air.\"\n\n\"Can you\" I said suspiciously.\n\n\"You know David.\" He smiled. \"Earlier on when we were standing among the flowers\n\nand the coffin was being loaded into the hearse?\"\n\n\"What about it?\"\n\n\"Less than a year ago the police would have been called if I just stood among a group of\n\nwhites in an area like this. But just now, no-one said a thing.\"\n\n\"I guess it takes someone like you to notice a thing like that? Someone who has really\n\nbeen affected by the system out here. I've just been peering through a window at it?\"\n\n\"No David...\" He laughed. \"You have been in there with us, experiencing it, forcing these\n\npeople to look at themselves. You are the changing face of South Africa and I am so\n\npleased we met.\"\n\n\"Even though I'm a poxed up sex fiend?\"\n\n\"Precisely because you are a poxed up sex fiend; I love you for that.\"\n\n\"Shut up...\" I laughed. \"You will make me cry if you carry on like that.\"\n\n\"You can always cry on my shoulder.\"\n\n\"Won't you worry about catching syphilis?\n\n\"I said cry on my shoulder,\" Owen laughed before poking me in the ribs with another warm smile \"Not fuck me; well not until you've had your course of antibiotics.\"\n\nWe went to the bedroom and stripped off. It was nice to feel his warm body close to\n\nmine and as the vodka flushed out our veins we slipped into a deep sleep. That night I\n\nhad a weird dream. I was on a motorbike pillion with my arms clenched tightly\n\naround the leather clad driver; speeding down a long gray road. There was the brooding Indian Ocean on my left and on the right, stretched out towards the horizon was a flat sand-scape; a hot desert of ripping dunes .\n\nI looked over the driver's shoulder and saw the speed dial clocking 100 as the bike\n\nsped into the setting sun. Then I saw a sign fly past us that said we were heading\n\ntowards a T-junction. The bike just got faster and I tapped the driver's leather clad\n\nshoulder to ask if he'd seen the sign we'd just past.\n\nThen, before I could say anything, we were approaching the junction in the road and\n\nahead of us was a brick wall. The bike screeched as we skidded towards the wall at\n\nbreakneck speed. I closed my eyes and screamed but no sound left my lips. I sat up\n\nsweating.\n\n\"David, we're home now....\"\n\n\"Oh, shit.\" I said as Owen opened his eyes and looked at me. I looked at the bedroom\n\ndoor and the handle twisted. Just then I saw my whole life speed before my eyes in a\n\nmoment.\n\n\"You're father has been fired and it's all your fault.\"\n\nThe door opened and I saw her face peer into the bedroom. Mother took a second to\n\ntake the scene in, I could see the cogs in her brain spinning for the briefest of\n\nmoments as she assessed the situation, I was in bed with someone, someone who\n\nwasn't a woman, someone who wasn't white.\n\n\"Aghaaaa...\" She screamed. \"There's a black man in the house.\"\n\n\"I think I'd better be going.\" Owen said as he jumped out of bed and began to pull on\n\nhis underwear. As that moment Mother chose to take a double take just to ensure she\n\nwasn't seeing things the first time round. The sight of Owen stark, bollock naked\n\nstruggling into a set of boxers nearly made her faint.\n\nThen the corners of her mouth curled up in opposite directions and one eye started to\n\ntremble as she closed the door again.\n\n\"There's a naked blackie in the bedroom...\" She screamed.\n\nOwen pulled on his shoes and I wrapped a sheet around me as we cautiously opened\n\nthe bedroom door. She was no-where to be seen as I escorted him to the front door.\n\n\"I see you at the weekend,\" I whispered. \"I'll come around to yours.\"\n\n\"See you then.\" Owen said pecking me on the lips. It was at this moment that Mother\n\nappeared from the kitchen with a larger vodka and coke in her hand.\n\n\"Oh...\" She swooned. \"What are you doing...\" I closed the door and faced her.\n\n\"...bringing a naked blackie back here?\"\n\n\"He's not a blackie, as you put it...\" I said indignantly. \"...and he wasn't naked when I invited him in. Anyway he's not back, but coloured, and I love him.\"\n\n\"Oh, no...\" She screamed hysterically . \"...This is all your father's fault.\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous.\" I said defiantly. \"Where is he anyway?\"\n\n\"He's had to go to the yard...\" She mumbled distracted by her thoughts. Then she gulped back her drink and demanded to know.\n\n\"Have you been raped?\"\n\nI looked at her and shook my head. \"Do I look as if I've been raped?\"\n\n\"I don't know...\" She replied pouring a straight shot and swigging the vodka back in one gulp.\n\n\"What was he doing here; what were you doing in bed together?\"\n\n\"I asked him back,\" I said. \"And what do gay men normally do in bed together?\"\n\n\"Gay what?\" She spurted. It was the first time I'd ever seen my mother flushed and\n\nlost for words. She went back to the kitchen and filled her glass with vodka again.\n\n\"Are you telling me that you're an Homo?\"\n\n\"If you want.\"\n\n\"You wait till I get my hands on your father...\" She screamed.\n\n\"...You should be glad that he didn't find you in bed with that thing; he'd be up for\n\nmurder by now.\"\n\n\"That thing...\" I spat. \"...has a name, it's Owen Okay?\"\n\n\"Owen...\" She laughed. \"Since when have they had names like that; he's probably\n\ncalled Nogologoloo or something; David, how could you..\"\n\n\"It was easy, I've been having sex with Owen for months.\"\n\n\"What!\" She shouted. \"You're father has a lot to answer for.\"\n\n\"It's got nothing to do with dad; it's me. I'm gay.\"\n\n\"Shut up saying that.\" She shouted with a mouth full of vodka.\n\n\"If you were ill I'd call a doctor, if you were in trouble with the police I could call a\n\nsolicitor, if you had bad eyes I'd take you to an opticians but this; what am I to do about this?\"\n\n\"You don't need to do anything.\" I said sitting next to her and reaching out to touch\n\nher hand.\n\n\"And with a black man at that?\" She sniffed recoiling away from me.\n\n\"Next thing you'll be telling me that you've got VD\"\n\n\"I've got more chance of catching V.D from a white man then from a black one; and\n\nanyway, he isn't black; he's mixed race, coloured.\"\n\n\"What difference does that make. It's disgusting it is; the thought of you and him, in\n\nthat bed; oh, dear. Wait till I get my hands on your father.\"\n\n\"Look,\" I said smugly. \"The thought of you and dad doing it doesn't fill me with\n\ndelight.\" She then slapped me as hard as she could.\n\n\"Don't you dare talk to me like that; at least we're...\"\n\n\"What normal are you?\"\n\n\"Yes, bloody normal.\"\n\n\"Well it took two normal's to make me; so what does that say?\"\n\n\"Don't blame your perverted behaviour on me; this has nothing to do with me; it's all\n\nyour father's doing.\"\n\n\"How do you work that one out?\"\n\n\"He should have took you boxing like I asked him to; or to the rugby like my father\n\ndid with my brothers; your uncles; and they came out okay.\"\n\n\"I hate boxing and rugby.\" I shouted. \"Oh, I've had enough of this crap. You now know\n\nAnd, quite frankly, I don't give a shit if you like it or not. Okay. If you want me I'll be in my room.\"\n\n\"And to think...\" She shouted as I stormed away from her.\n\n\"...To think, your father lost his job because of you.\"\n\nI sat in my room laying on the bed staring blankly at the bedroom ceiling waiting for\n\nDad to get in and thinking about what she had said. Not just the bit about his job; but all of it.\n\nIt seemed like ages before the front door closed and the sound of their\n\nvoices drifted down the hall towards Me. I could smell food cooking and despite the\n\ntragic news mother was still able to cook his dinner. Then the knock came like\n\nraps of hell on my door.\n\n\"Your dinners on the table.\" I heard father saying on the other side of the door.\n\n\"I'll have it in here.\" I shouted.\n\n\"You'll have it with us...\" He shouted back.\n\n\"Now pull yourself together and come and join us.\"\n\nI reluctantly did as I was told and found the atmosphere at the table decidedly cold.\n\nMother never really joined us she just fluffed around in the background placing dishes\n\non the table and taking away the empties. Dad occasionally looked up and spied me\n\nsuspiciously.\n\n\"So they sacked you?\" I said trying to make conversation.\n\n\"Fuck em...\" He spat through a mouth full of pork. \"They found out about Van Der\n\nWestazen and needed to make a scapegoat; well fuck em, that's what I say.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" I said softly hardly finding the words to say.\n\n\"It's no good feeling guilty.\" He said looking at me intently and invoking deeper feelings of\n\nguilt.\n\n\"It's just we made him a security risk and stopped him coming on the yard. They\n\ndidn't like that one bit; still; he was in the wrong for lying about you.\"\n\nA stony silence fell among us; then he coughed which he always did as a precursor to\n\nsaying anything uncomfortable.\n\n\"So....\" he said hesitantly, holding me in the bright spotlight of his gaze.\n\n\"...Is it true what your mother tells me?\" He asked eventually.\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"That you like big cocks up your arse?\"\n\nI looked up and he was staring at me with eyes of fire; his eating utensils at twelve\n\nO'clock and had a face that would crack glass. He was serious, Dad vary rarely made eye\n\ncontact and when he did it was for a reason. I shook my head hesitantly.\n\n\"Not quite.\" I replied.\n\n\"You do or you don't; no half measures there, boy.\" He stormed.\n\n\"Look, it's not like that.\" I said starting to explain what \"it\" really was about but finding\n\nthe words frozen in my throat and nothing except a small squeal coming out.\n\n\"Right.\" He shouted. \"You're going back to England, on the next bloody plane. If your\n\nmother told me that you had got a girl up the pipe I'd be proud of you. That would be\n\nokay. If she said that you'd had a car accident and we'd have to push you about in\n\na wheelchair; I could even live with that; but cocks; cocks up the arse; that's\n\nanother matter. I'm not having it. \"\n\n\"You don't have too.\" I replied sarcastically.\n\n\"And big black cocks, at that...\" he sniffed. \"...fucking black cunts.\"\n\n\"Do you have to?\" I asked hesitantly; hoping he'd change the record.\n\n\"That's right, you can go and stay with your Uncle Dick, he'll sort you out.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I replied thinking about \"Uncle\" Dick and his interesting hobby. The thought of\n\nhim chasing me around the front room with his wellies pulled up and a dildo in his\n\nhand flashed before my eyes.\n\n\"Why do I have to stay with him?\"\n\n\"Because he's the only one who will take you.\" Dad shouted.. Take me, I thought as\n\nthe sight of the dildo and those wellies loomed large in my brain. Dad was pacing up\n\nand down the front room now; shouting loudly.\n\n\"I don't want to hear anymore about your sordid perversion; and you're not going\n\nout until we can get you a ticket back home.\"\n\n\"You have to be kidding?\" I sighed. \"You can't keep me in, especially if I'm going home.\n\nI have to say good-bye to people.\"\n\n\"Not another word.\" He snapped. \"Now get to the bedroom or, if you want to act like a\n\nwoman, go and help your mother in the kitchen.\"\n\nI stormed into my bedroom and slammed the door. As I looked around the room\n\ndesperately looking for a means of escape, the bedroom door opened and my mother\n\npopped her head into the room.\n\n\"You're lucky I didn't tell him I caught that coon giving you one...\" She said referring to Owen and\n\nusing a voice that assumed that she'd done me a favour.\n\n\"I couldn't put him through that; there would be murders.\"\n\n\"You should have told him.\" I said through clenched teeth. \"...I don't care and my friend\n\nis called Owen, okay. He's not a coon or whatever else you think. He's a beautiful young\n\nman and his mother would never talk about me in the disrespectful way you have talked about him.\"\n\n\"He's name's not Owen;\" She said sliding into the room and speaking in a hushed\n\nwhisper.\n\n\"They don't have names like that. He only told you that so that he could rob\n\nyou or something.\"\n\n\"Mother...\" I spat. \"You are the most stupid person I've ever met. I love you but you\n\nare stupid. I bet you've never even spoken to a black person have you; or found out\n\nwhat happens here in this bloody country to people with different coloured skin. Have\n\nyou, go on admit it?\"\n\n\"Grow up David.\" She replied sarcastically knowing that this was the only put down\n\nthat actually hurt. With it anything I have to say could be relegated back into the\n\nrealms of children's stories and disregarded.\n\n\"The blacks need white people out here to run everything; the country would go\n\nto pot if we weren't here.\"\n\n\"You've been brainwashed.\" I replied\n\n\"Whoever's filled your head with that shit needs shooting.\"\n\n\"I'm fed up with this; just leave me alone.\" I said knowing it was futile to continue.\n\n\"Just remember that you owe me one.\" She said with a wry smile.\n\nThat's a joke I thought. Because she had not told father that I had been screwing a\n\nblack man in their flat, she really though that I was in her debt. I felt like going in\n\nthere and telling him myself. That would be fruitless, I concluded, laying on my bed\n\nand wondering how long it may take them to get me a ticket back to Europe.\n\nAll I knew was that time was running out and that whatever was left would have to be\n\nused to the max.\n\n21\n\nI looked blankly at the plate of cold meats and potato which Mother had\n\nplaced on the bed in front of me not less than an hour ago and pushed the\n\nfood about with a fork.\n\n\"Fuck This.\" I said under my breath standing and putting on my trainers.\n\n\"One of us has just got to go.\"\n\n\"Where do you think you're going?\" Dad said as I brushed past him heading\n\ntowards the front door. \"Come back!\" He shouted at my back as I headed\n\ntowards the road.\n\nI called Boudwan from a public telephone and begged him to come and pick me up which he said he\n\nwould do. Some minutes later I heard my name being called and turned to see mother\n\ncoming running toward me.\n\n\"You father is going frantic; come back now.\"\n\n\"No thank you...\" I said softly. \"I'm waiting for someone to collect me.\"\n\n\"You're doing what?\" She shouted as I saw the Rolls Royce pull up behind\n\nher.\n\n\"I'm going into town.\"\n\n\"But you can't David...\" She shouted as I crossed the road towards the car.\n\n\"I'm going to call the police; do you hear; I'm calling the police about this.\"\n\n\"Who is that?\" Boudwan asked as I got into the car and we pulled away.\n\n\"I don't know her...\" I lied. \"...She just started to scream at me while I was\n\nwaiting.\"\n\n\"A nuttier..\" He laughed.\n\nI didn't agree with him because I hated being like that to my own mother; someone I love. It wasn't in my nature to be rude to my parents but on this occasion I felt I had some point to\n\nmake. We drove in silence to the bus garage and Boudwan explained that he\n\nhad some business to attend to before meeting me later in Wings. With that\n\nhe disappeared and I made my way to the club.\n\nThere was a queue as usual and I waited with the throng to be allowed in. I\n\nfound Rupert waiting by the desk overseeing the taking of entry fees as usual\n\nand he smiled his wide, capped-toothed smile as I came up the stairs.\n\n\"David...\" He said as I walked towards him. \" Fancy seeing you here?\"\n\n\"Am I not welcome?\"\n\n\"We welcome chickens as well as hens here, my dear.\" He cupped his hand\n\nover his mouth and whispered.\n\n\"No-one knows I fucked you do they?\"\n\n\"Did you fuck me?\"\n\n\"No, of course not...\" He looked around and ushered me past the doorman\n\nand into the club.\n\n\"...Let's keep it that way, dear.\"\n\n\"Boudwan's coming in a while..\" I said as he tapped me on the arse.\n\n\"Well you enjoy yourself and I'll let him know you're here.\"\n\n\"Can I come and have a snort with you when he arrives.\"\n\n\"You've got some front...\" He said as his smile twisted into a bitter snarl. A\n\nmoment of thought crossed his face before the snarl melted back into a\n\nsmile.\n\n\"For you, my dear, anything.\" and with that he was gone.\n\nFor a week night the place was already busy but no-one was dancing and the\n\nmusic filled the near empty dance floor. The sound of the Bee Gees singing\n\nin their falsetto about something to do with staying alive was swiftly\n\ncross-mixed with something new by Georgio Moroda. The sound of clicking\n\nsynths and sequenced melotrones filled the air as that incessant disco beat\n\nfilled my head like a drug.\n\nA drink was thrust into my hand and I looked into the eyes of a fat, middle-aged\n\npouf as he shook his wobbly stuff around me. It was vodka and I\n\nsmiled back as it went down the hatch.\n\nMy admirer disappeared for a few moments before coming back like a loyal\n\npuppy with another drink in his hand. I took it and smiled.\n\n\"My name's Andre.\" He said with a wink. \"What's yours?\"\n\n\"David.\" I replied.\n\n\"Have you been working today, or...\" He sniffed coming a little bit closer.\n\n\"...are you still at school?\"\n\n\"I've been at the clap-clinic all day.\" I replied. \"I've got a really bad case of\n\nsyphilis; how about you?\"\n\n\"Excuse me.\" Andre replied as he disappeared into the crowd. I smiled and\n\ntoasted him with the vodka he'd just provided.\n\nSoon the club was full to the brim and I was swaying from side to side to the\n\nthumping beat of Abba's Dancing Queen which always went down a treat\n\npre-midnight just to get the punters in the mood. Suddenly I heard a\n\ncommotion above the sound of the music and looked towards the entrance. I\n\nsaw Rupert run into the club with a group of others.\n\nThey seemed to be ebbing and flowing back and forth in time with the\n\nmusic. The double doors thrust open and the bouncer came tumbling\n\nthrough it with a gashing head wound. I went to the commotion and stopped\n\nbeside Rupert.\n\n\"What's going on?\"\n\n\"It's nothing, just get away from the doors and let the staff deal with this...\"\n\nI could hear screams and banging echoing down the stairs on the other side\n\nof the doors. Then they burst open as another bouncer was pushed with\n\nforce into the club. I caught a glimpse of a group of men on the other side of\n\nthe doors that were holding baseball bats and cleavers.\n\n\"Who the fuck are they?\" I said as Rupert picked the bouncer up from the\n\nfloor.\n\n\"They are the South African Rugby Squad, believe it or not.\"\n\n\"What the fuck are they doing?\" I screamed above the noise of music and\n\npeople screaming. Rupert turned to me and shook his head.\n\n\"They have had a game in Cape Town and have been on the piss since\n\nyesterday. Someone must have told them we were a gay club because they\n\nturned up half hour ago and beat up the queue.\n\nNow they are trying to get in and smash the place up.\"\n\n\"Can't you call the police?\" I said stupidly.\n\n\"The police are already outside but they think what they are doing is okay.\n\nThey're just standing there watching it go on.\"\n\n\"Jesus.\" I said stepping back from the doors as they swung open and a huge\n\nguy came in swinging a baseball bat. Rupert bravely pushed the guy back\n\nthrough the doors and I saw a bat smash down on his head as the doors\n\nswung closed.\n\n\"Go and tell the DJ.\" I said to the bouncer who had just been floored. \"Go\n\nand tell him to turn the music off. We're going to be fucking killed\n\notherwise.\"\n\nA few minutes later the music went down and I heard the DJ speaking over\n\nthe system.\n\n\"Apparently the club is under attack and Rupert is being given a bashing.\n\nCome on everyone, remember Stonewall.\"\n\nI'd never heard of Stonewall but have since learnt that it was a reference to\n\nthe American stonewall riots of the late 60s when the queens fought back. It\n\nseemed to do the trick and twenty muscle Mary's emerged half naked from\n\nthe dance floor and burst through the doors. These were quickly followed by\n\nthe few leather queens who appeared to relish the idea of a punch up.\n\nRupert was dragged in and I saw through the doors the Rugby squad\n\ncowering under attack as beer glasses rained down like missiles and leather\n\nriding crops struck anything that moved.\n\nThe punters who liked to wear hard hats were next through the door and\n\nslowly the Rugby squad, who expected no resistance, were repelled down\n\nthe stairs and onto the street. I looked out the window and, amid the gangs\n\nof Muscle Mary's and Leather Men, I saw a drag queen smashing some big\n\nguy with her handbag and realized that, when we stood together, even a\n\ngroup of fluffy queens could fight and win.\n\nAfter the fighting was over and the Rugby squad had run away nursing\n\nbruised egos as well as broken bones the club filled once again and the\n\nmusic went back on. I remember Rupert announcing that the doors had been\n\nlocked and that the booze was on the house.\n\nI even got my snort of Coke in the back room as he nursed a black eye with\n\nsome ice from behind the bar.\n\n\"Wasn't that sensational?\" Rupert laughed. \"It makes getting a kicking seem\n\nworthwhile when something like that happens. I tell you, they won't bother\n\nus again in a hurry.\"\n\nHe looked intently at me as I looked into my drink blankly.\n\n\"Come on, you should be happy.\"\n\n\"My parents are sending me back to England.\" I said softly, sniffing the Cocaine\n\nto the back into my throat.\n\n\"Lucky you.\" One of the people who was nursing Rupert said. \"I'd love to\n\nget out of this god forsaken country.\"\n\n\"You are leaving at the right time...\" Rupert said. \"...you know, now Smith has left\n\nRhodesia, well, South Africa will follow.\"\n\n\"Surely that's a good thing.\" I replied.\n\n\"Not if you are white...\" Rupert replied sniffing another line of Coke.\n\n\"...even if you have Black sympathies. Don't worry about that; we'll all be tarred with\n\nthe same brush when the gunfire starts.\"\n\n\"Surely not.\" I said realizing that even if I did go back to Britain I'd take with\n\nme something that money could never buy; insight into the ways of the\n\nworld and a sense of pride in myself.\n\n\"Anyway, what makes you think that things can be any worse then they\n\nalready are?\"\n\n\"You're still a boy.\" Rupert said. \"Ask yourself that question when you have business\n\ninterests or property here; then you'll be in a position to answer it.\"\n\n\"So this is it.\" Owen said as we stood in the veranda outside his mother's\n\nhouse watching the hot sun descend in the African sky.\n\n\"I guess so.\"\n\n\"I'll never forget you David.\"\n\n\"The feeling's mutual. I want you to know that I was glad that we met.\"\n\n\"So was I.\" He smiled. \"I wish all whites could be like you.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Boudwan reckons that he'll probably return to Belgium in a few\n\nmonths. If he does perhaps he'll pay to have you visit him. I'll come across\n\nand meet you if he does.\"\n\n\"I won't hold my breath.\" Owen said looking away. When he faced me I\n\ncould see the tears welling up in his eyes and his top lip quivering under that\n\nthin adolescent moustache that he was so proud of.\n\n\"I've got to go...\" He added softly.\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\n\"When does your flight leave?\"\n\n\"In the morning; Owen, I mean it; I'll never forget you.\"\n\n\"You will, but should you ever come back please look out for me.\"\n\n\"I will.\"\n\nHe reached out his arms and we kissed for a moment like two schoolboys;\n\nawkward and stiff. Yet I felt through him all the love in the world reaching\n\nout into my body and filling me up with goodness. I opened my eyes and found his\n\nlooking into mine through a veil of tears.\n\nThen he was gone.\n\nThe following day I was sitting alone on a jet bound for the UK. A packet of penicillin\n\ntablets tucked into my jacket and a letter referring for my next\n\ninjection at the most convenient hospital. As the plane took off and I looked\n\ndown at Table Mountain drifting away from me and beyond that the vast\n\nAfrican veldt stretched out from horizon to the coast; I felt like I'd not only left Owen.\n\nGone forever would be the disco music, those sexy shabeens and the hot girls (male and not so male ones) who shook me to my core. I was leaving the hot sun, the trannies and the Dagga\n\nof the Cape. Most of all I was leaving the wonderful coloured people of Cape Town; people like Rose and Mrs Ootie, Owen's brother and his mother and auntie. The people who sang my to the mosque and al the wonderful soldiers; spilling their blood to protect a cause they hated.\n\nI was heading into the unknown; London, the punk scene and more heady experiences awaited.\n\nOh, but that's another story.\n\nCopyright© David William Kirby:2009\n\nThe Dogbreaths Publishing\n\nDwkglynrde5@yahoo.co.uk\n\nThere now follows the second in this presentation of the author's work. If you enjoyed reading one or the other please consider purchasing a copy from either the Scribd or Smashwords store.\n\nLady Mandrax\n\nCopyright: David William Kirby:2012\n\nThe Dogbreaths Publishing\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Scribd.com or Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nLADY MANDRAX\n\nPrologue\n\nAs storm clouds gathered high in the pale Carolina sky, she was thrust into this world through a dent in her mother's pride. Eyes rolling and bewildered, her small limbs reached out for a father who was unknown and a mother still cursing the child's conception.\n\nThe mother sighed, suppressing a groan for fear of being heard and snipped the umbilical cord with a pair of rusted scissors. Then, cradling the baby in her teenage arms she looked up at the storm clouds overhead and praised Jesus.\n\n\"Thank you...\" she whispered softly as a spot of rain fell on her upturned face.\n\n\"...thank you lord for giving me my baby healthy.\"\n\nKnowing in her heart that this child would make a hard life harder; still, she was glad the ordeal of birth was over and now she had to find them both somewhere to live.\n\nFrom that day the young girl became a woman. Aware that her life was no longer her own but the child's also. Being black in Southern America, what with the Jim Crow laws and entrenched racism, was one thing but being black with an illegitimate child was quite another. As 1948 spilt into 1949 the woman thought about crushing a stone into the child's head or throwing themselves under the wheels of an unforgiving train; but the faith in the hereafter prevented these thoughts progressing.\n\nOne look into those bright green eyes set within that pale brown skin made her depression\n\ndisappear. The child may be a problem but it also gave her the strength to fight on; that baby had all the confidence in the world beaming through her eyes and her mother gained confidence from them too.\n\nIn January 1949 the woman walked to the rear door of a big old house down a clear Carolina lane. It was a whitewashed old plantation house and she knocked hard after opening the screen door. She knew here she would be expected to scrub floors, clean windows, do laundry, ironing and cooking; but it would be a home for them both.\n\nPresently the door was opened by an old white man who was dressed in grey overalls. He looked the girl and baby up and down with an inquisitive eye before pulling the door wide and allowing them entry.\n\n\"You ain't no whore are you?\" he spat as the woman entered; gesturing toward the child in her arms.\n\n\"Listen mister.\" She said with a firm look. \"I may have a baby but I ain't no whore. This beautiful child was the result of an act of violence; you hear that, an act of violence by a selfish brute. But they say, every cloud has a silver lining and this ray of sunshine is mine.\"\n\n\"Like that, is it?\" the old man said rubbing his bristling chin.\n\n\"Yes...\" She said confidently ,with her bright eyes wide and shoulders held proudly back.\n\n\"...It's like that.\"\n\n\"I'll take you to your room.\"\n\nHe led the way through the kitchen and scullery and down a long dark hall.\n\n\"The master isn't here today but he knew you were coming. Old Mrs Jones worked for him all her life till the cancer took her last month. He'd had that card in the shop only a few days when you phoned him. I guess he'll want me to tell him if you're any good when he gets back; I suppose you'll meet him then.\n\nUntil that time you make yourself comfortable, when you ready, come back to the kitchen; I want my food before it gets dark. Of course, I'll do it myself tonight, rest for now and tomorrow you can start working.\"\n\nShe looked at his old back as she dragged her suitcase in one hand and the baby in the other and pulled a face.\n\n\"And who are you?\" she asked as he opened a door which led into a side room containing a sink, bed and sideboard.\n\n\"My name is Jed.\" The old man replied handing over a key.\n\n\"I'm the master's farmhand. This is you an' the baby's room. I sleep over there.\"\n\nHe indicated a door on the other side of the hall before walking back towards the scullery.\n\n\"When you're ready I'll have some eggs and coffee waiting for you.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" She replied hesitantly.\n\nShe watched him go to the end of the hall and walked into her new home. The bed was simple but soft and the window overlooked the sweeping hills beyond. It was a view she would get used to watching, as the green grass slowly dried out to a brown mat over the summer and the parched ground split; thirsty for rain.\n\nThen the winters would strip the trees of their leaves and the ground would turn to mud as the wind and rain battered her window. It was a view she would watch as each night the sun set over the far off hills and every morning the shadows would grow and the sky light up with every colour of the rainbow. From that day her life would not be her own and, although slavery was a long time past, she would be a willing slave to that house and its master until the child grew up.\n\nStill, she was still grateful for what the lord had provided considering the last few nights had been spent sleeping in cornfields. She laid the baby on the bed and got on her knees to thank Jesus for her good fortune and as the whispered prayer was uttered the first ray of strong sunshine came through the thin curtain and bathed her and the baby in the warm and divine light of the morning sun.\n\nThe baby grew while her mother polished furniture and swept passages until her arms ached and broom-heads wore down to their base. The young girl, Mandy, sat on a rug in the kitchen while her mother scrubbed pans and cooked food. Over the winter months the old stove would keep them warm and in the summer she'd sit in the yard while her mother scrubbed clothes and hung the bed sheets on the line.\n\nYet every Sunday morning the woman would dress the child in her best threadbare clothes and lead her down the lane to church. They always sat at the back trying to ignore the cupped hands and gossiping mouths of other parishioners. She never even tried to form relationships with them; they shared the church but nothing else.\n\nShe knew they were talking about her and that bastard child when the service was over; but it would not stop her going. The experience made her and the young girl stronger. She may have been a nigger with a half-breed bastard to them, words she heard regularly outside the building, but in the eyes of God she was a saint and her child a little angel.\n\nAs Mandy grew older her beauty became apparent, she had long legs and long curly hair, long eyelashes and the kind of hips that make men melt. About the time of her fourteenth birthday the master took an un-natural interest in her.\n\n\"Come here Girl.\" He said as she passed the door to his day room. She looked in and saw the fat, lazy white man that owned the house leering at her. He'd never spoken to her before although she had noticed that he'd been watching her grow for some time. His eyes followed her about the room if he could find a reason to visit the scullery or her mother sent her into his room for something.\n\nThe man never smiled, never said anything kind or interesting. He just chewed on a long cigar and let his eyes eat her up. Occasionally she would turn and find him behind her, a little too close, that smell of sweat and bad tobacco lingering in her nose long after he was gone. Now he had called her, wanting her to approach him when no one else was in the room. She stepped toward him and looked hard into his eyes confidently.\n\n\"You wanted me?\"\n\nHe looked at her and she saw his gaze fall to her breasts and down to her legs just barely covered in the short denim skirt she was wearing.\n\n\"You have grown some, girl.\" He said patting the sweat from his brow with a stained hankie.\n\n\"Come a little closer and let me see you properly.\"\n\nShe did as he asked and snarled as his thick fingers reached out and touched her between her\n\nknees. He started to stroke further upward and as his fingers touched the bottom of her skirt she snapped.\n\n\"What do you think you are doing?\"\n\n\"Don't be like that girl.\" He drawled, a smile cracked his fat face as more sweat wet his brow.\n\n\"You're at the right age to find out what your pussy's for. Now keep still.\"\n\n\"If your fingers move one more inch mister...\" She said placing her hands on her hips. \"...you'll find out what my fist is for. You may think you can tell my mother to do your bidding but I don't work for you or anyone.\n\nBeside, when I find a use for my pussy it will be on a day I decide and with a person whose dick isn't buried in five layers of gut fat. You got that?\"\n\n\"Ha...\"He chuckled. \"...You think you gonna play hard to get with me, girl?\"\n\nShe turned and sniffed loudly, deciding to leave that house as soon as possible, with her mother or without.\n\n\"You can go...\" the fat white man shouted after her.\"...but you can't hide; not in my house.\"\n\n\"We'll see about that!\" Mandy cursed under her breath.\n\nLater that day she packed a small bag, kissed her mother on the cheek and walked from that house never to look back. She was tired of seeing her mother sweat over his stove, scrub his floors and clean up like a Good nigger, a Grateful nigger; like a nigger without a care in the world, as he was always reminding her.\n\nIt wasn't what she wanted from her life and her mother always said she was a clever girl and she was going to use her head to get on.\n\n\"Keep in touch, baby...\" her mother had shouted as the girl headed out the gate into the lane yonder.\n\n\"...and never turn your back on the Lord.\"\n\nBullshit, Mandy thought as she stamped ahead with clenched teeth. Don't turn your back on the lord, she thought, because if you do he'll screw you in the butt. That's what white people are like and God had to be white otherwise he wouldn't be god.\n\nWell, not a god whitey would want to worship. She was sick of it all, the religious hypocrisy, and the racist attitudes. Each step was taking her further away from it all; the days of servitude to a big, white lord was over and she would do all she could to make sure they never came back.\n\nChapter One\n\nMandy hiked a lift out of Carolina along the main interstate heading west. She told the driver that she was going wherever he was heading. He was going all the way to California, to Los Angeles and so this became her destination too.\n\nHe was another fat white man who had a thick growth of beard and sleep in his eyes; but his eyes had a look of humour in them but when he smiled he exposed a mouth full of green teeth. It was an overcast day and yet the man was sweating profusely as the corner of his eyes surveyed her legs.\n\nHe was keeping them on the road most of the time although she could tell he was interested in them; she noticed the furtive glance occasionally. He was just like all the other white men she had known; they would call her a nigger in front of their friends then try to fuck her when she was alone.\n\n\"How old are you Girl?\" the driver asked making casual conversation.\n\n\"Sixteen.\" She lied looking away from him and out the side window at the farmland that was shooting past. The wheat was growing tall and they fields seemed to stretch to the horizon in every direction.\n\n\"You're a big girl for sixteen.\" He replied, there was something in his tone that made her glance at him quickly. Just in time to see that he had been leering at her intently.\n\n\"If you don't keep your eyes on the road mister...\" she snapped. \"...I might never see my seventeenth birthday. Still...\" she added with a wry smile.\n\n\"...at least we'll have the pleasure of dyeing together. Your fat gut spread over the tarmac and\n\nmy face splattered against the windscreen. What a sight.\"\n\n\"I'm looking at the road.\" The driver said anxiously looking back to the road and gripping the\n\nwheel with his fat hairy fingers. There was a long pause before he said anything further.\n\n\"I was only admiring your legs.\" He said softly.\n\n\"You have the most beautiful legs I've ever seen.\"\n\n\"You need to get out more.\" She huffed. Mandy turned her attention to the window again and hoped that he would lose interest.\n\n\"You're a little young to be making this journey on your own aren't you?\" The driver said eventually breaking the awkward silence. \"You got family in Los Angeles?\"\n\n\"Nope.\" she replied abruptly.\n\n\"You got friends down there?\" He continued trying\n\nto get her to relax.\n\n\"Nope.\" she replied.\n\n\"You sure don't say much do you?\" he said with a breathless sigh. \"I guess you're one of these people that can walk into a town like Los Angeles, not knowing a soul, with no family and settle down like they've lived there all their life?\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\nThey drove for a further few kilometres and the sun got low on the horizon as they journeyed on. She was thinking about her mother and wondering if she was sitting by the old stove quietly crying for her.\n\nShe thought too about the big old boss that owned the house and if he had taken his anger out on the old woman. She knew she had upset him but perhaps she had done the only thing to make things better; he was sure to have continued trying to get into her panties and it was better to nip things in the bud by removing the temptation.\n\n\"You got a job fixed up in L.A?\" the driver said eventually as he flicked a switch and the road\n\nahead was flooded with headlight. Mandy faced him and wondered if she should stop\n\nbeing so defensive; the last thing she wanted was to be put out in the dark in the middle of nowhere.\n\n\"I hope to find a job.\" She replied with a small smile. \"You know, earn a little money, be\n\nsomething better than a...\"\n\nShe stopped in mid sentence and looked away.\n\n\"Better than a what?\" The driver asked. \"Don't be shy. I'm not going to judge you.\" He gave her a dumb smile that made her giggle, the fat from his chin collected up on his shirt collar in great folds giving the impression of several chins.\n\n\"That's better.\" He said making the chins wobble.\n\n\"You look much better with a smile on that face of yours; now young lady, better than what?\"\n\n\"A maid.\" She said eventually, looking out through the side window at the bleak dark landscape beyond only visible when moon light broke through the clouds in silvery shafts.\n\n\"A maid.\" The driver gasped. \"Is that what you've been doing lately?\"\n\n\"My mother, I've been living with her.\"\n\nDon't knock being a maid girl,\" the driver said with a beefy smile. \"My mother was a whore and she'd given her eyeteeth to have been a maid. She was a good old girl and she had some mighty fine friends. It's only a way of paying the rent after all. So your mother earns money scrubbing floors, would you have been happier if she'd earned rent on her back?\"\n\n\"No. I guess not.\" She said with an air of depression; he sensed that he shouldn't have\n\nmentioned his mother's profession to the young girl and tried another tract.\n\n\"Well, little miss, what you are hoping to do in the big city; you've ruled out being a maid and, er, my mother's profession. Could you work in a store?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" She said softly. \"Truly, I've not ruled anything out just yet. I guess I never really ruled out being a whore; I'm sure I have the goods men want. I just meant I'd never be a maid.\"\n\n\"So you'd do anything for cash, eh?\" the driver said looking away from the road and at her legs again. \"My momma warned me about girls like you.\"\n\n\"Oh, stop messing.\" She laughed looking out the window into the darkness. She could see him reflected in the mirror looking around at her and although he was disgusting to look at it made her feel powerful.\n\n\"How would you like to earn fifty buck right now?\" He said cautiously.\n\n\"A girl like you could go a long way with fifty bucks in her pocket book. Especially in a city like L.A; you're going to need money for a place to stay when you get there.\"\n\n\"Oh yha...\" she sneered looking at him. \"...I guess that would mean letting you fuck me; right?\"\n\nShe smiled seeing his hands get white as their grip on the steering wheel tightened.\n\n\"Well...\" He stuttered. \"...only If you say so.\"\n\nThey drove on a little further until the lights of a small motel drew along beside them. He pulled the truck into the car park behind the rooms and went to check. Mandy watched him waddle away and wondered what she was letting herself in for.\n\n\"I've checked us in as Mr Farley and his daughter, Constance.\" He said pulling the truck door open and up at her. \"That okay with you?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" She said sliding out of the truck and standing beside him. It was then she noticed just\n\nhow small he was.\n\n\"We're in N0 5\" he said leading around the building to where the rooms were situated.\n\n\"You are a beauty, anyone ever told you that?\"\n\n\"Yha, you have, about twenty times so far.\"\n\n\"Sorry...\" Farley replied nervously. \"...I'm not used to this.\"\n\n\"Neither am I.\"\n\nOnce inside the room he tugged the blinds down and pulled her towards him whispering in her ear that he was going to fuck her bad.\n\n\"Not without giving me my fifty dollars first, you're not.\"\n\n\"You got me!\" he laughed taking out a battered wallet and passing over a crisp new note.\n\n\"Don't you spend it all at once.\"\n\n\"I'll keep it to buy me a new school uniform.\" She smiled tucking it into her blouse.\n\n\"Now what did you have to say that for?\" He said with a deep sigh and then stared at her nervously.\n\n\"Making it out like I'm a paedophile or something.\"\n\n\"Well,\" she said pushing him down on the bed. \"I am underage, so I guess you are. Now how you gonna fuck me again?\"\n\n\"Nah,\" he sniffed looking up at her with a frown. \"You have ruined it now.\"\n\n\"S'pose you want your money back?\" she asked hoping that he wouldn't.\n\n\"Look.\" He said after a long pause. \"If I can't fuck you, you can let me have a wank while I look at those legs.\"\n\n\"Whatever.\" She replied not understanding what a wank was, she'd never heard the word before. Perhaps, she thought, it was like crank, or thank. Well whatever he was getting at she decided just to let him get on with it.\n\nHe tugged at her legs until she was laying with her panties facing him and she was staring up at the ceiling. She heard a grunt and then he sat up.\n\n\"Thank you.\" He said breathlessly.\n\n\"For what?\" she asked with a confused smile. \"All I did was lay there.\"\n\n\"Oh, you got me.\" He laughed doing up his fly and throwing a towel across the room. \"You sure got me there.\"\n\nThey both fell to sleep on the bed fully dressed and she had a strange dream. It was as though it was a memory stored in her mind like a faded photograph.\n\nThere was an old fashioned oil lamp in what looked like an old cellar. She could see shadows cast upon the bare brick walls and the painted faces of china dolls. She had felt safe and warm there, in his lair, let's play an adult game he said.\n\n\"Yes...\" she said as the old master touched the place dollies never had.\n\nShe awoke as the fist beams of dawn were bursting through the windows. The driver was still asleep and he was sucking air through his nostrils and then blowing warms gusts against her face. One of his great arms was over her shoulder and she pushed it aside and stepped off the bed towards the window.\n\nAfter taking a shower she went through the still sleeping man's trouser pockets. His wallet\n\nhad just a couple of hundred dollar bills and a faded photograph of a woman. Mandy took her to be his wife.\n\nShe was tempted to take the money and run away but the thought of being a whore was one thing, being a thief something quite different.\n\nShe replaced the money and the wallet and then adjusted her hair in the mirror before going out on the veranda. There was a diner opposite the room block that advertised all day breakfast and so she crossed the road and bought some coffee for them both.\n\nThey were a little hostile at first but the colour of her money helped them get over the colour of her skin. When she woke him the driver didn't even wash before getting dressed, drinking the coffee and going out to see if his truck was okay.\n\nHe'd paid for the room in advance so there was nothing left to do except visit the bathroom and get going. He didn't say much during the first part of their journey and eventually she broke the silence.\n\n\"Have I upset you?\"\n\n\"No,\" he replied shooting her an awkward look. \"Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"You've not said anything since we got going.\" She replied with a slight smile. \"I wondered if I'd done something wrong.\"\n\n\"It's not you girl.\" The man said after a long pause. \"I feel like I took advantage last night, I'm not like that really.\"\n\n\"How did you take advantage?\" she laughed. \"You didn't rape me or nothing.\"\n\n\"But I forced you to have sex, didn't I\" He shook his head and glanced away from the road towards her. She saw that there were tears welling up in his eyes and she started to feel guilty.\n\n\"Did you? I didn't notice.\"\n\n\"You know what I mean.\" He tutted and looked back towards the road.\n\n\"I got a daughter who is a little older then you. If a man took advantage of her I'd find him and I'd kill him.\"\n\n\"You didn't take advantage.\" She smiled reaching out and touching his arm gently.\n\n\"In fact, you were the perfect gentleman. I felt safe with you.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" He said flashing his yellow teeth towards her. \"That's made me feel a whole lot better about things; even though I'm old enough to be your father.\"\n\n\"If I had a pappy like you, I'd be one happy little girl.\"\n\nA few hours later they were in a diner eating a brunch of eggs, bacon and coffee.\n\n\"Do you watch football?\" the driver asked as he dipped a slice of toast into a soggy egg yolk.\n\n\"No.\" she replied with a smile. \"Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"Aw...\" He replied taking a sniff and gulp of coffee. \"...I'm Just trying to make conversation. I thought it was better to ask that than...\"\n\n\"Than what?\" she asked looking at him intently.\n\n\"Then asking what you were running away from?\" He looked down at his food and acted as if the question wasn't nosey.\n\n\"I don't want to pry, I mean, you could tell me to mind my own business if you want.\"\n\n\"Okay...\" she laughed. \"Mind your own business.\"\n\nHe shrugged and continued to eat in silence for a while until she ate the last of her eggs.\n\n\"Who's the woman in the photograph?\" she asked before realising that he'd know she'd been down his pockets.\n\nHe looked up at her with his mouth half open and an awkward silence descended between them both before his face broke into a craggy smile.\n\n\"I thought you'd been through my pockets. You put the wallet back in the wrong one. Thanks\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" She said biting her lower lip, wide eyed.\n\n\"Thanks, for what?\"\n\n\"For not ripping me off and running.\"\n\nThere was another thick silence between them until he eventually took a bite from the last piece of toast and pushed the plate away.\n\n\"That was frugging delicious.\"\n\n\"I was going to.\" She said softly gazing out the window wistfully.\n\n\"Why not; I mean you could have, I was away with the fairies; best sleep I'd had for ages.\"\n\n\"I'm not like that, I guess.\" She replied before looking out the window longingly.\n\nThe noise in the diner seemed to slip away as her thoughts returned to her mother; she had never spent a whole night away from her in the past and she wondered if she was also thinking about her.\n\nWondering if her momma was sitting beside the stove darning or working out in the yard. At that time of the day Jed, usually came in from the garden to grab a bite to eat. She thought about them both sitting there just as she and her new friend were.\n\nWere they passing the morning with a little superficial small talk, thinking about the past, about those who they loved? Did she miss her? Mandy certainly missed her mother and if she dwelt on it any further she knew she would begin to cry.\n\nLuckily enough, her companion seemed to guess this and pulled her from the daydream with a simple question.\n\n\"The photo?\"\n\n\"Yes, who was she?\" She asked looking back toward him and regretting that she'd been through his pockets in the first place.\n\n\"I thought she was your wife.\"\n\n\"Yha.\" He said. \"She's been dead ten years now, like I said, the cancer took her.\"\n\n\"I'm so sorry.\" Mandy replied softly. She reached out a hand and touched his shaking fist on the tabletop.\n\n\"You said your mother was a maid?\" he said after a while. \"What about your father?\"\n\n\"He's dead.\" She lied thinking this lie was much better than the truth.\n\n\"I'm sorry to hear that, how old was he...\"\n\n\"Can we change the subject?\" she snapped throwing him a stern glair. \"What is it with you, quiz of the week or something?\"\n\n\"Sorry, sorry,\" he said realising that he had pried enough and that it really wasn't any of his\n\nbusiness.\n\n\"You sure are wound up tight.\" He laughed. \"But bright as a button.\"\n\n\"It's me who should say sorry.\" She smiled, trying to relax as best she could, before adding.\n\n\"it's true, I am wound up like a spring....\"\n\n\"You are, seriously.\"\n\n\"...this is the furthest I've ever been from home and my confidence is pretty shallow. I'm frightened I'll make a mistake and screw things up; but I will never go home again, never. No matter what!\"\n\n\"Oh, you'll make mistakes girl, whoppers...\" the man chuckled making those chins wobble like jelly. Then he looked serious and flashed her a nod.\n\n\"...you'll recover, and get over it; shit every time it happens you'll be stronger.\"\n\nNothing more than chit-chat passed between them for the rest of their journey. It wasn't necessary and they both felt as if they'd said enough. There was a small amount of polite small-talk of course, it was a long journey. But they gradually developed that mutual understanding which is indispensable when in such close quarters , the sort of respectful relationship that only exists under circumstances such as during that long, boring drive to Los Angeles; he adopted the fatherly role and she his compliant daughter.\n\nShe was asleep when the sudden motion of the truck stopped and the lack of engine noise pulled her from her dreams. It was hot and bright and she had to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun as she looked up at him.\n\n\"This is as far as I go Honey.\" He said as the truck rattled out of gear.\n\n\"You can catch a bus down there and it'll take you right into town; I'm going to the freight terminal.\"\n\n\"Right, okay.\" She said sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes.\n\n\"Take this.\" He said handing her another twenty dollars and a piece of paper with an address\n\nscrawled on it.\n\n\"If you do go there, ask for Ruby and you might land yourself a job or somewhere to stay. Okay?\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" She replied looking at the address .\n\n\"Thanks for being so good to me.\"\n\n\"It was a pleasure.\" He smiled. \"Tell Ruby Tom Farley sent you; she'll look after you.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She opened the truck door and jumped down onto the road.\n\n\"See you later Tom Farley.\" She shouted slamming the truck door.\n\n\"Perhaps I'll run into you again?\"\n\nHe nodded and she heard that familiar laugh as the truck burst into motion before disappearing in a cloud of dust. She folded the paper note carefully and placed it in her breast pocket before picking up her battered carpetbag and heading towards the bus stop.\n\nChapter two\n\nPeople were everywhere, on the sidewalk, in steamy cars at the side of the road, people in cafes and bars, standing on street corners looking around expectantly; there were so many of them. Big people, small people, fat, thin, ugly people, beautiful people, some had nothing and some looked like they had everything. Mandy saw a man in rags talking to god, cursing Him under his breath.\n\nHe was cursing the sun, the sky, cursing the cars and the road, damning them all.\n\nShe saw a huge woman with bright red hair scratching her fat butt while puffing on a\n\ncigarette. She called out to a passing car shining in the mid-morning heat.\n\n\"Hay bud, want some business?\"\n\nMandy saw another fat woman who had a child in her arms. The child was screaming and the woman could be heard saying.\n\n\"I'll feed you when I get some money.\"\n\nMandy looked down at the sidewalk and saw inlaid stars on every other paving stone. Within each brass star was a name, she didn't recognize any of them and wondered why they should be honoured like that.\n\nThen she saw a name she did recognise, Clark Gable. Oh, she thought, they must all be actors. Of course, this is where the Hollywood films are made.\n\nThis made her smile.\n\nThe sun hung in the air like a big yellow balloon and its veins of light were fluted through the\n\ntowering palm trees that edged the road. She noticed a faint smell on the wind and then the scent of lilac reached her nose and it reminded her of home; long ago as a child she used to watch her mother hang the washing. The bright summer sun and the smell of lilac brought it all back vividly.\n\nThis thought disappeared as the rank stench of stale urine and musty armpits flooded her senses. A dazed woman in a faded dress, stained and threadbare almost bumped her into the road. The woman cradled a plastic bag filled with tin cans to her breast and softly mumbled something about god.\n\nThe smell faded as Mandy strode away towards and old theatre set back from the road. There were two people standing in the square that the theatre edged chatting about nothing in particular.\n\n\"Excuse me.\" Mandy asked as she reached them.\n\n\"We ain't got no money.\" One of the strangers replied defensively. They both faced her with\n\nhardened looks.\n\n\"I'm not begging.\" Mandy replied indignantly. \"I'm new to town and I wondered if you knew where this address was?\"\n\nShe held the piece of paper Tom Farley had given to her up so the pair could read it and one of the strangers looked at it intently.\n\n\"Oh,\" the woman said after a long pause. \"My reading ain't as good as it used to be...\"\n\n\"Oh really?\" Mandy said as the other stranger took the piece of paper and examined it.\n\n\"I can read it mother.\" The stranger said looking up with a smile.\n\n\"It's an address along the strip there.\"\n\n\"Really.\" The boy's mother said examining the piece of paper with a squint.\n\n\"It's along that way miss.\" The boy said nodding along the road. \"Go left at that junction, that's Vine...\"\n\n\"Vine?\" Mandy replied looking in the direction he had indicated.\n\n\"If you go left there, Sunset intersects it, this is a high number so that's right at Sunset. You can't miss it.\"\n\n\"Left down Vine...\" Mandy repeated. \"...until Sunset intersects it, then right?\"\n\n\"That's it Honey, good luck yaw.\"\n\nMandy thanked them and walked to the junction they'd indicated and found herself walking away from the Chinese Theatre. There was a schoolyard on her left and a group of small children played with a ball in it. At the bottom of Vine Street she found Sunset Strip cutting across.\n\nIt was a wide, busy road that seemed to stretch as far as her eyes could see in either direction. High lighting towers stood to attention every hundred yards or so while traffic idled at the intersection.\n\nUnaware of which direction to take she checked the nearest buildings and saw that the numbers went up on her left and down on her right. The number she wanted were only a few steps from the junction.\n\nShe took a deep breath when she reached the tall and wide iron gates that were set into a hedge. The gate upright had the same number on it, etched into a brass plate, as the one Farley had given her and she peered through the gates at the house beyond.\n\nIt really was a huge place and imposing. The path that led from the gate to the front porch seemed to go on for two or three hundred yards and was framed on either side by a colourful array of bedding plants and shrubs.\n\nMandy pushed open the gate and stepped onto the gravel path towards the huge white porch that framed the sturdy stained-glass panelled front door. There was a small flight of steps, which she found unable to climb. The imposing nature of the building filled her with anxiety for some reason.\n\nPerhaps it was lack of confidence, perhaps it was fear of the unknown but something held her there rooted to the spot. She had to say under her breath, come on girl, get a grip, before another step forwards could be taken.\n\nThe art-deco stained glass that was fitted in the door she reached fascinated her. It was a picture of a nude girl holding a ball, all picked out in different coloured glass. The image made her smile.\n\n\"Wow.\" She mused. \"Just look at that.\"\n\nThere was a brass bell push set into the wooden frame and she carefully touched the button without pressing it as thoughts rushed through her mind. Surely, she wondered, Farley wouldn't have given her this address if he didn't think they'd help her?\n\nShe didn't think that she'd be able to rent a room in such a mansion and he was aware that she did not intend becoming a maid; even for rich folks like these. So what would they be able to do for her, if anything?\n\nThe only way to find out would be to press that button. Her finger pressed hard and she stood back, up right with her chin proud. After an immeasurable period of time the door was opened slightly and the face of an old black woman in a traditional maid's uniform peered out.\n\nMandy could see by the cleanliness of the apron the woman wore that she wasn't a maid of all work; or someone that did dirty work. This woman certainly didn't get on her knees and do the sort of jobs her mother performed every day of her life. The sort of work white women never did.\n\n\"And what can I do for you?\" the woman in the maid's costume asked sarcastically; eyeing Mandy from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.\n\n\"I'd like to speak to your master.\" Mandy replied desperately trying to sound confident.\n\n\"Oh, you would, would you?\" The maid replied with a laugh. \"Well, get you.\"\n\n\"Would he be available?\" Mandy stuttered, astonished by the woman's attitude.\n\n\"You either got the wrong house...\" The old woman spat closing the door sharply. \"...or you got a death wish, or something.\"\n\n\"Wait.\" Mandy said as the door was closed. She looked through the glass and saw the old woman begin to walk away and so she pressed the doorbell again until she saw her turn and come to the door again.\n\n\"I have the right address.\" She stuttered as the old women inspected her through the glass.\n\n\"Tom Farley sent me, and look...\" she held out the piece of paper he had scrawled the address upon. \"..he wrote it in his own hand; said I could find work here.\"\n\nThe old woman stared through the stained glass for a moment before cautiously opening the door. \"You want work?\"\n\n\"Ah ha, yep!\"\n\n\"And Tom Farley sent you?\"\n\n\"That's right.\" Mandy replied. The old woman opened the door wider and looked over the girl's shoulder down the path towards the gate.\n\n\"Well,\" she sniffed. \"You had better come in then.\"\n\nMandy stepped through the door and into the hall that lay beyond. It was bright with windows all around, painted woodwork and stained dark floorboards. The fittings of brass and chrome sparkled in the morning sunshine and a sweeping staircase of stained wood and brass swept up to another floor to her right.\n\nThe opulence amazed the country girl and her eyes darted everywhere before coming to rest upon a painting that hung on the far wall.\n\nIt was of a naked girl, reclining temptingly on a bed of roses. Her long red hair curled down across ivory shoulders and the intense auburn was picked up again in the fold of her exposed pubis.\n\n\"I was told to ask for Mr Ruby.\" Mandy said softly clutching her bag to her waist nervously.\n\n\"I'll tell you once...\" the old woman snapped. \"... There ain't no master in this house.\"\n\n\"There isn't?\" Mandy replied. \"Is Ruby the boss, is she a lady?\"\n\n\"Well, you could say that.\" The maid replied shaking her head and laughing loudly. \"There's only one boss in this house, and she ain't no lady.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I'm confused.\" Mandy replied staring at the old woman anxiously. \"Ruby is the mistress, the madam?\n\n\"You're confused...\" The old woman laughed again, showing a set of white teeth with the odd gap here and there.\n\n\"...if you stay confused you'll get on fine here; you can bet your life on that, make no mistake about it. Anyway you can call her Miss, or Madame and watch your lip because if you gonna work for Ruby Valentine then if she says jump; you say, how high. Got that?\"\n\nThe maid walked off leaving the girl standing next to the stairs facing the picture of the naked girl. \"She'll have to see you. Wait there and I'll tell her you here.\"\n\nBeing further inside the house the girl could see that there were other oil paintings decorating the rest of the wall space.\n\nThey were all of naked girls, some were dark and brooding with plump ladies posing seductively, others appeared more modern with stark colours and brittle images. One was of the rear end of a well proportioned lady dressed in tight plastic shorts and fishnet stockings bending over. The heels of her patient leather shoes being at least nine inches high if not more.\n\n\"Lordy, look at those heels.\" Mandy said under her breath.\n\nMandy raised an eyebrow, wide eyed she thought about the house she had left her mother cleaning; it had always seemed like a palace to her but compared to this place it was really one up from a shack.\n\nShe recalled that there was no art in the old house, the white master hated art; especially\n\nmodern art; she remembered him speaking about Picasso once and saying that it was an affront to people's intelligence.\n\nMandy didn't know what he meant at the time and still didn't understand fully but seeing these glorious images surrounding her just made her think that he was wrong. She looked up and hanging above her head was a vast crystal chandelier.\n\nIt caught the light and shimmered like water if she moved her head from side to side. She found it mesmerising. The smell of rose blooms filled the air as a breeze floated into the hall from the garden; she smiled softly sucking the aroma in.\n\nThere was a tall, long case clock further down the hall and the steady clicking of its movement ticked the seconds by. Mandy heard the rustle of taffeta and a small giggle above her on the second floor and she peered up towards the sound.\n\nShe just caught a glimpse of another young girl who darted away quickly when she looked up; another hushed giggle echoed down the stairs.\n\n\"Come, Girl!\" The maid said abruptly. \"Madam will see you now.\"\n\nMandy placed her shoulders back and held her bag slightly behind her as she followed the maid down the hall. She was led into a side room and the door closed briskly behind her.\n\nThe room was huge and expensively furnished in red and pink. Red carpet swept from wall to wall; mahogany chairs upholstered in pink satin stood at intervals around the room and here and there arrangements of roses and pink carnations flushed from bright vases. There was a large mahogany desk in the centre of the room behind which sat two women; one white, middle aged and seated and one black, who stood just beside the other.\n\nBoth women eyed the young girl intently which made Mandy very uncomfortable. She shuffled from one foot to the other and bit her lip. The black woman's eyes were piercing and Mandy could hardly look at her without feeling guilty for some reason.\n\n\"Shall I stand or sit?\" Mandy asked breaking the silence.\n\n\"Just stay where you are.\" The black woman snapped filling the young country girl with fear. \"We are looking at you.\"\n\n\"I see?\" Mandy replied not really seeing at all. She did not want to appear frightened. She was normally very confident meeting new people but this situation was unlike any other she had ever been in.\n\nShe looked at the white woman, not young but very beautiful, she thought. Her light pink dress shone in the sunlight that entered through a window behind the desk; it was evidently silk or satin. The woman had bright auburn hair and Mandy realised the picture in the hall was of this woman in her youth. She smiled at the realisation.\n\nShe had long fingers and each one was decorated with jewels; the index finger of her left hand having one of the biggest Ruby's Mandy had ever seen. It shone like fire on the band of glittering gold.\n\n\"What's your name?\" The woman asked softly before taking a cigarette from the silver container on the desk. The black woman leant forwards and lit the cigarette with gold lighter.\n\n\"Mandy.\" She replied softly. \"My name is Mandy, Mam.\"\n\n\"Mandy, hmm?\" the woman drawled in a haze of cigarette smoke. \"Where does Mandy, hail from?\"\n\n\"I'm from Carolina, Mam.\"\n\n\"Really? she asked suspiciously before taking another puff on the cigarette. \"Is that where you know Tom Farley?\n\n\"No, not really...\" Mandy replied looking the woman directly in the eyes. \"...it's just that he tried to fuck me on the way down here.\"\n\nThe two women laughed out loud. It was just the sort of response Mandy hoped for.\n\n\"Sounds like Tom?\" the white woman laughed.\n\n\"He said you may be able to offer me some work.\" Mandy said putting on her best smile.\n\nBoth women looked at her in silence and with stony faces. She wondered if they were estimating Tom Farley's talent for spotting a young beauty or if they were horrified by the condition of her old leather sandals.\n\n\"What sort of work did you think you could get here?\" The white woman asked with a smug smile.\n\n\"Well,\" Mandy replied leaning her head to one side. \"I haven't come here to be a maid. I'd consider anything else.\"\n\n\"Tell me dear?\" the white woman enquired taking another puff on her cigarette. \"Did Tom manage to get it up?\"\n\n\"Did he what?\"\n\n\"Did he actually fuck you?\" the woman said abruptly. \"Or did he just try?\"\n\n\"I said no, but he got his rocks off anyway.\" Mandy said with a blush.\n\n\"He raped you?\" the black woman asked with an astonished expression.\n\n\"No, he played with himself; that's what men do isn't it?\"\n\n\"Some men.\" The white woman added with a solemn frown . \"I only asked because I needed to ascertain if you were still a virgin.\"\n\n\"Ah ha.\" Mandy nodded shyly.\n\n\"That would be a yes?\" The black woman asked through pursed lips.\n\n\"Yes, sorry I'm a little nervous.\"\n\n\"Well then, little miss country girl...\" the white woman smiled. \"...you can calm down; I think you have yourself a job here.\"\n\n\"Thank you madam.\" Mandy beamed.\n\n\"That's provided you drop the madam bullshit. My name is Ruby...\" She continued throwing her colleague a knowing nod.\n\n\"...You'll get full board and residence plus a clothing allowance.\"\n\n\"Wow, thank you madam.\" Mandy smiled relaxing for the first time since entering that room. \"...Er, Ruby.\"\n\nShe wanted to jump in the air and shout aloud in celebration but was content to smile sweetly and thank the women. This was a little difficult because it appeared as if both had equal power and where she had come from only white people got treated like they were in charge; other black people were far less formal.\n\n\"Do you want the job?\" the black woman asked.\n\n\"I know you said full board and all that...\" Mandy said hesitantly. \"...but will I be getting any hard cash? I have to send money to my mother.\"\n\n\"Of course you will.\" The white woman laughed again, a deep fruity laugh that relaxed Mandy even further. Her smile was broad and friendly, full of light and knowing beauty. It made her feel happy just to look at the woman.\n\n\"You think I'd let anyone touch you without paying hard cash? Not on your Nelly, girl. Virgins don't just walk through the door every day.\"\n\n\"You'll get ten dollars for each and every punter.\" The black woman added.\n\n\"...they pay me and I'll pay you at the end of each week. Money never changes hands in the rooms; that will get you sacked.\"\n\n\"A punter?\" Mandy replied with raised eyebrows.\n\n\"That's a john, a mark, you know a customer.\" Ruby smiled.\n\n\"A man?\" Mandy asked with a frown.\n\n\"Normally, but anything goes here...\" The black woman said straight faced. \"...although we don't do animals, kids or dead bodies, is that clear; if that's your thing you may as well walk away now.\"\n\n\"What?\" Mandy said confused by the remark. What, she thought, would be the use of an animal in an establishment like this? I guess, she mused, she'll find out later.\n\n\"So you want to join our madhouse?\" Ruby asked again.\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you.\" Mandy replied without hesitation.\n\n\"Well then, \"Ruby said standing up. \"First things first, this is Sam, my foreman.\"\n\nShe approached Mandy and walked slowly around her inspecting her bottom closely.\n\n\"Each girl has to do at least one punter a night.\" Sam said businesslike.\n\n\"Any tips are yours although they come to me first; I'll pass them on at the end of the week. The punter pays me and I give him a ticket like this...\" she held up a blue slip of paper for Mandy to see.\n\n\"...You have to be on duty every night at six o'clock, in the lounge. I'll get someone to show you around. You'll have your own room although you may work in any of the fantasy rooms we have and I'll tell you about them in time. You do get time off but that will be allocated in future. In the meantime, you work. Is that clear?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Mandy replied turning to see Ruby staring at her intently.\n\n\"Any questions?\" Ruby asked. Mandy shrugged and shook her head making her curls flop into her green eyes.\n\n\"Right then, Sam give the girl fifty dollars.\"\n\n\"Fifty dollars?\" Mandy said confused.\n\nSam opened the desk drawer and withdrew a wad of banknotes. She counted five ten dollar notes and placed them on the desk.\n\n\"This is an advance...\" Ruby smiled pushing the notes across the desk. \"...go buy yourself some new underwear and something nice for your first night; I'll get it back from your first month's earnings; okay?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Mandy said taking the five notes and clutching them tightly.\n\n\"I'll get one of the girls to go with you so you don't get lost, Sam?\" she said nodding towards her partner who picked up the telephone and pressed a button.\n\n\"You'd better get that mad bitch Liz to move Velta from the white room. Off you go.\"\n\n\"Okay boss.\" Sam replied looking at Mandy with an intense expression.\n\nChapter Three\n\nMandy looked at both women and understood that she was being told to leave the room. She smiled and walked to the door, which was opened, on cue, by the maid. Once outside the room the maid gave a small hoot and winked at Mandy.\n\n\"Were you listening at the key hole?\" Mandy asked with a smile.\n\n\"What if I was?\" the old woman croaked placing her hands on her hips defiantly.\n\n\"You're a strange one.\" Mandy laughed. \"I'm to tell mad bitch Liz to move Velta from the...\"\n\n\"The White room...\" The old woman interjected. \"...well, country girl. I'm Lizzy and I ain't no mad bitch, you unnerstand?\"\n\n\"I am sorry.\" Mandy said embarrassed by her comment. \"I didn't mean to be rude. They said...\"\n\n\"I know what THEY said.\" The old woman interjected pulling an extraordinary face.\n\n\"So you got to go in the white room.\"\n\n\"You were listening?\"\n\n\"Put her in the white room, in the white room, I ask you...\" the old woman mumbled.\n\n\"...How am I gonna do that?\"\n\n\"Is there a problem?\" Mandy asked trying to keep up with Liz as she shuffled down the hall toward the staircase mumbling.\n\n\"Not for you.\" She replied throwing Mandy a snarl before leading the girl up the stairs. \"But there might be for Velta?\"\n\n\"Velta?\" Mandy asked.\n\n\"Yes!\" Liz said at the top of the stairs before taking a deep breath and screaming \"VELTA!\" as loud as she could.\n\nShe was led down another wide and well lit hall decorated in the finest furniture with paintings every few feet. The maid opened the first door and Mandy looked in. There was a young woman inside sitting upon a big brass bed in bra, knickers and nothing else; she was painting her nails a deep red.\n\n\"Didn't you hear me calling you?\" the maid asked abruptly. She picked up a dressing gown that was strewn across the floor and threw it at the woman.\n\n\"Velta, it looks like you're moving.\"\n\n\"Who said I was moving?\" Velta replied with a sneer.\n\n\"The boss.\" The maid replied taking the girl by the arm and dragging her to the door.\n\n\"Hay, just hang on a minute.\" Velta stuttered. \"I like this room.\"\n\nMandy stepped out of their way as the maid took the girl past the door and into the hall.\n\n\"An who are you?\" Velta demanded to know as the two girls met.\n\n\"My name's Man...\"\n\n\"Don't worry bout her.\" The old woman interjected throwing the dressing gown at Velta's head. \"Just make yourself at home, country girl. I'll introduce you to the others soon enough.\"\n\nVelta stamped her foot and stormed off down the hall.\n\n\"Change the bed clothes and leave the old ones in the hall for me; the new ones are in the cupboards over there.\" The old woman stomped off after Velta leaving Mandy to look about her; she could see why this was called 'The White Room.\n\nThe walls and soft furnishings, the bed spread and curtains were all picked out in different shades of white; making the room bright and antiseptic looking. Mandy realised It had been a long day and she could do with a bath and some rest.\n\nShe knew that she couldn't go on duty, as they called it, at six o'clock without getting something to wear but then she didn't want to go out shopping without having a bath. She stood and looked at herself in the reflection of a full length mirror that hung on the wall opposite the bed. She was still holding the fifty dollars that Sam had given her and so she left her bag on the bed and walked down to the staircase where she found Liz standing.\n\n\"I want to find a shop.\" She said as the two women met by the stained glass porch.\n\n\"I need something to wear, any ideas?\"\n\n\"Well.\" Liz replied thinking hard for a moment. \"There's a pet shop down the road that do a nice line in Dog-coats and flea collars; would that do?\"\n\nShe sniggered gently and her tongue poked around the few teeth that were still left in the old woman's mouth.\n\n\"Not really.\" Mandy replied looking confused by the comment. \"I mean a dress shop.\"\n\n\"Well the mall's just down the road, country girl.\" Liz drawled nodding in the direction of the road.\n\n\"It ain't far from here, just up that hill yonder.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Mandy smiled brushing past the woman and heading through the front door.\n\n\"But Sam wanted someone to go with you!\" Liz shouted. It was no use, Mandy had left the\n\nbuilding and was almost skipping away down the gravel path.\n\nChapter 4\n\nAS the grandfather clock in the downstairs hall struck six pm Mandy was waiting in her room. She was feeling nervous and continually looked in the full length mirror at her reflection. She placed her long curly hair behind one ear and pinned it into place with a flower hair-pin she purchased earlier; then her eyes fell upon the gleaming brass bed that was reflected in the mirror behind her.\n\nIt was a big bed, not a king size, not even a queen size, in fact she wondered whether these beds were made off the shelf at all; they were probably ordered. She turned and looked at it, six people could quite comfortably sleep side by side on it and their shoulders would never touch.\n\nThe white quilt was covered in delicate designs of summer flowers and drifting clouds picked out in cream thread. The bed beckoned her tired body to lay and rest, to sleep and dream of strolling through those summer fields under the warm summer sky.\n\nWhen she had gone out she hadn't found a Shopping Mall, just as Liz had said. But on the way, close to Hollywood Boulevard, Mandy had seen a shop that stocked nothing but forty dollar frocks. She had sorted through the rails as the sound of loud rock music filtered through the shop from hidden speakers. There was a picture of Lyndon B. Johnson hanging on the wall upon which someone had drawn a moustache and a pair of Mickey Mouse ears. She had laughed at that.\n\nIt had amused her also that most of the men she had seen in the street had grown their hair mostly down to their earlobes but some had hair that went down their backs. That had made her turn and shake her head. In Carolina all the men had short hair and anyone that differed from this norm would have been an outcast. But there were even long haired men working in this dress shop, some of them wore tight white trousers and floral shirts which made her curious. She had never seen men dressed like that in her life before and she liked it.\n\nShe had found a pretty dress amongst those on the rails and it fitted her perfectly. As she looked at herself in the mirror she felt glamorous for the first time in her life; like a Hollywood star, in a forty dollar dress.\n\n\"Are you deaf or something, Girl?\" the maid said sticking her head around the door and giving Mandy a fright.\n\n\"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?\" Mandy replied with a snarl.\n\n\"Get you bitch!\" the maid huffed. \"If you don't get your skinny ass downstairs now, I'll be knocking on your head.\"\n\n\"Oh God.\" She said under her breath as the maid left her and stomped down the hall. She had forgotten what the time was; even though she thought it was important to do the right thing in the beginning. She ran from the room and past the startled maid.\n\n\"You had better slow down, country girl.\" Liz said as Mandy rushed past her towards the stairs.\n\n\"If you want to make good money round here you have to learn to slow down a little.\"\n\nMandy lost her footing at the bottom of the stairs and stumbled forwards straight through the double doors and into the lounge. Here she fell in an undignified heap on the floor.\n\n\"What an entrance!\" Ruby said holding a drink to her lips.\n\nThe room was large and well lit with a long bar down one wall and several small love chairs at locations throughout. Mandy could only look up from her position and smile as Ruby turned to the bar and ordered Sam to pour the girl a drink.\n\n\"Get her a cola.\" She smiled watching Mandy drag herself up.\n\nThe room had half a dozen other girls there who she took to be her workmates. Two were white, one black and another who looked Greek or Italian. Then there was Velta who looked at Mandy like the cat had dragged her in before turning to do her lipstick reflected in mirror on the wall.\n\nThe black girl walked up to her and smiled before taking a stool beside the bar.\n\n\"This Girls...\" Ruby announced with flair. \"...is our newest member, Mandy.\"\n\n\"That's a nice name,\" the black girl whispered shyly. \"I'm Jo.\"\n\n\"Hi Jo.\" Mandy replied sitting on a stool beside her. She looked behind the bar at Sam and saw only open hostility staring back.\n\nThe others turned and looked at her briefly before turning back to what they were doing.\n\n\"They're like that...\" Jo said. \"...it's this time of night, it makes them feel competitive so don't take it personally. Have you have done this type of work before?\"\n\n\"No,\" Mandy replied sliding her stool up closer beside her new found friend. Sam placed a record on a deck behind the bar and adjusted the lights. It was a Marvin Gaye song and the music changed the mood instantly.\n\n\"This is my first time.\"\n\n\"I love this tune...\" Jo said nodding her head in time with the beat. \"...You'll be okay, If Ruby knows you're new to the game she always looks out for you.\"\n\n\" Really?\" Mandy replied. \"I'm glad to hear it.\"\n\n\"She's in the white room tonight.\" Ruby suddenly shouted over the top of the music.\n\n\"Do you hear that Velta?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Velta snarled. \"I've been moved into that shit hole with no shower. The, so-called, Roman Room.\"\n\n\"There's a bath in there.\" Sam said, correcting her and giving the woman a frosty stare.\n\n\"I don't like baths, I like showers; but I ain't got no choice have I?\"\n\n\"That's right, you ain't.\" Sam said sternly. \"So get used to it.\"\n\n\"Ladies.\" Ruby interjected. \"We're one big happy family really, so stop whinging.\"\n\nShe gulped back her drink and gave the empty glass to Sam to re-fill. Then she said to Mandy.\n\n\"When you finish that cola I'll let you have one drink of something stronger; what do you want?\"\n\n\"Sorry Mam...\" Mandy replied with a small smile. \"...the cola's fine, I don't drink alcohol.\"\n\n\"Let's hope the little country girl knows how to suck cock.\" Velta cursed under her breath.\n\n\"Enough!\" Sam said sternly slamming her palm down on the bar. \"Keep your big mouth shut. If I want to hear from you, you'll know about it.\"\n\n\"Thank you Sam.\" Ruby said with a half smile. She moved closer towards Mandy and Jo.\n\n\"You'll get used to Velta...\" She said taking a sip from her new glass.\n\n\"...she doesn't mean any harm, it's just her way.\"\n\n\"She's just plain rude.\" Jo said firmly.\n\n\"Oh, you'll get used to her.\" Ruby replied as she rapped her painted nails upon the bar. \"Tell me, Mandy, have you never drunk?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Mandy lied. She thought back to Carolina and the fact that the town was dry and had been since prohibition. The only person she ever met who smelt of booze when she was growing up was the old white master. He used to drive to the next town and stock up on Bud occasionally while nodding at the minister's anti booze sermons in church on Sundays.\n\n\"I just want a clear head the first time, so I remember.\"\n\n\"When you been at it as long as some of us...\" Jo replied with a smile. \"...you need a drink to forget it.\"\n\n\"That's funny.\" Roared Ruby as she howled and hooted, slapping her hands together.\n\n\"My girls like to laugh.\" She said eventually after her throaty chuckles subsided. She then coughed loudly, lit a cigarette and downed the last of her drink.\n\n\"Give me another Gin, Sam.\" She shouted. Mandy glanced at Jo for a second and caught her\n\nmaking a mime of someone drinking from a bottle. Both girls giggled.\n\n\"I like to hear laughter at work.\" Ruby said as Sam got her a drink. \"If we're relaxed the punters relax...\n\nShe lowered her voice and leant forwards saying solemnly.\n\n\"Mandy, I'll introduce you to your sisters here. If you treat them like your sisters they'll treat you like\n\na sister in return. I'm right eh, Jo?\"\n\n\"Yes Ruby.\" Jo replied with a hint of cynicism.\n\n\"Well...\" Ruby continued taking another glass from Sam. \"...you have met Sam, she's my deputy around here; any problems you take them to Sam, okay Hon?\"\n\n\"Right.\" Mandy replied\n\n\"You've met Jo?\" Ruby continued before turning towards the room to introduce the other four girls. \"She's one of my best girls; very popular. The gasbag at the back is Velta of course.\"\n\n\"We've met.\" Mandy said softly. The girl sitting near Velta who was wearing a red gown with a matching hat put down the magazine she was reading and looked up.\n\n\"That's Jayne,\" Ruby continued. \"She's a nice girl, very popular with the oldies; Grandpa's love her and she loves them.\"\n\n\"I love their money.\" Jayne quipped. \"Give me that silver dollar any time you like.\"\n\n\"That's Carol.\" Ruby continued pointing towards one of the other girls who was sitting on a love seat next to another girl dressed in a nursemaid's uniform.\n\n\"Carol was a contortionist when she was younger, what she can do with her body would make\n\nyour eyes water.\"\n\n\"I can do any position in the Karma Sutra, and more.\" Carol said with a smile. The girl in the\n\nnurse's uniform smiled too.\n\n\"That's Roma?\" Ruby said turning to face Mandy.\n\n\"She does our big babies, water sports, enemas, you know, colonic irrigation and that. For those with specialised tastes.\"\n\n\"What on earth is a colon, er?\" Mandy sputtered.\n\n\"Colonic irrigation.\" Ruby corrected her.\n\n\"You do not want to know...\" Jo added with a sneer. \"...Just make sure she washes her hands before taking a sandwich from her.\"\n\nJo looked at Mandy intently and noted that she seemed unsure of herself and nervous. She remembered the first time she had sex for money and how terrible the experience had been, lacking feeling with absolutely no tenderness; the whole situation had nearly put her off men for good.\n\n\"You look nice.\" Jo smiled taking a sip from her glass. \"Did you buy this today?\"\n\n\"Forty dollars.\" Mandy replied hesitantly, she looked at Ruby who was talking to Sam and bit her bottom lip anxiously.\n\n\"She gave me fifty dollars, shall I give her the change?\"\n\n\"Don't worry.\" Jo replied. \"She'll get that back and more beside.\"\n\n\"I got some new knickers and stockings with the ten dollars change, the ones I had were old and worn.\"\n\n\"You look very pretty.\" Jo smiled. \"I guess you're feeling nervous?\"\n\n\"A little.\"\n\n\"It's always nerve racking the first time,\" Jo said looking directly at Mandy. \"I don't care who you are, when that door closes and you're alone with that first punter you're nerves go. Ruby's good though, she'll make sure the first one will look out for you; nothing too heavy.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yha,\" Jo replied nodding. A soft smile formed on her face before she added thoughtfully.\n\n\"I shit myself that first time; and boy, he was a fucking asshole.\"\n\n\"Right!\" Ruby suddenly announced. \"It's time to get that door open.\" She lifted herself unsteadily from her stool and straightened out the creases in her dress before heading towards the door.\n\n\"Go and relax for a while with the other girls...\" She said to Mandy as she wobbled past. \"...I'll make sure you get a nice man to break you in tonight.\"\n\n\"She's okay with me here...\" Jo said defensively. \"...unless you want to chat with the others?\"\n\n\"There'll be time to do that, are you from Los Angeles?\" Mandy asked. She could see that Jo was black but she didn't have a southern accent like the other black girls she'd met. In fact, Mandy thought, she sounded Latino.\n\n\"My parents come from Mexico City, but I was brought up here.\" Jo replied. \"Well, in Seattle really. I moved to L.A three years ago. You're not local are you; I'd say you're from a farming community somewhere on the East Coast?\"\n\n\"Is it that obvious?\" Mandy replied. \"...yha, I'm just a dumb country girl in the big city.\"\n\n\"I didn't mean it like that...\" Jo giggled. \"...It's just that people from farming communities always have great complexions.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Mandy replied with a beaming smile, she tucked her hair behind her ear and flashed those green eyes at her new friend.\n\n\"You're mixed aren't you?\" Jo asked. \"Although my family are Mexicans I have some Negro in there somewhere; I think my great, great granddaddy was from Saint Lucia; that's what I was told anyway.\"\n\n\"Mixed?\" Mandy asked. \"What, mixed up?\"\n\n\"Mixed race?\" Jo laughed aloud. \"You have beautiful coffee coloured skin babe, but your eyes are pure bred white boy.\"\n\n\"I never knew my father.\" Mandy said softly. She looked into her cool drink and thought for a moment. Jo recognised that this was a touchy subject and felt guilty for raising the issue.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" She said softly. \"It's none of my business.\"\n\n\"No, it's me.\" Mandy replied bravely; smiling when really she felt like crying. She always did when she thought about having a father. The only significant male role model in her childhood was the fat, old master and he was just awful to her.\n\nShe often saw other young girls with their fathers out in the street or church and she envied them. Having a father around to look out for the family was natural. He would go to work each day and earn the money while the mother stayed at home looking after the kids and doing housework. At night he'd take his daughter to bed and read her a story before kissing her gently and reminding her that daddies loved their little girls.\n\n\"My mother never talked about him.\" Mandy said after a long pause. \"He could have been white, yellow, red or green for all I know.\"\n\n\"Well he sure gave you a beautiful pair of eyes, country girl....\" Jo said reassuringly. \"...and that curly hair must be so manageable.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Mandy asked a little confused by the remark.\n\n\"We women of colour have a thing about our hair...\"Jo said with a frown. \"...I saw my mother torture herself with wigs and weaves and whatnot, all her life; trying to deny her race. As soon as I left home I shaved my head, it was a teenage reaction to weaves and wigs. I shaved the whole lot.\"\n\n\"But I like the way you wear your hair now.\" Mandy giggled. \"I can't imagine you bald.\"\n\n\"Yes baby, I was bald for two years but now I'm digging my fro...\" Jo smiled flashing her strong white teeth and giggled. \"..afro is the way to go. I'm growing it as big as it will get. I'm proud of my fro, it makes me a beautiful, and real, black woman.\"\n\n\"How are you liking my room?\" a voice said from behind. Mandy turned and was faced by Velta who placed a glass on the bar and looked at Sam briefly.\n\n\"Same again, please.\"\n\n\"It's okay, I'm sorry to put you out.\" Mandy replied making space for the woman to get closer to the bar and turning to face her.\n\n\"You get used to being moved without notice round here...\" Velta sniffed. She looked at Mandy from head to toe and half smiled; a cross between a frown and a snarl.\n\n\"...You're a fast mover, coming today and starting the very same evening.\"\n\n\"Oh, I thought...\" Mandy said as Sam passed Velta a glass of brandy.\n\n\"Normally people try to get to know the place before starting.\" Velta interjected.\n\n\"Leave her alone.\" Jo said casually. \"The girl needs work, Jesus, don't we all?\"\n\n\"I met a guy on the way over and he gave me the address.\" Mandy continued. \"I don't know anyone in this town so I guess I thought I was lucky to land on my feet; how about you?\"\n\n\"Let's just say I met Ruby through a friend of a friend.\" Velta replied. \"I've been here ever\n\nsince; much to my disgust.\"\n\n\"So you're not happy?\" Mandy asked trying to sound interesting. She picked up a signal from Jo which made her feel uncomfortable; as if she was telling her not to pry too much.\n\nVelta rubbed her fingers in her scalp and lowered her voice for a moment.\n\n\"They all hate me.\" She whispered. \"All these bitches hate me.\"\n\nMandy was puzzled by this comment and wondered if she should enquire more. Jo was looking more and more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by.\n\n\"Why would you think such a thing?\" Mandy asked innocently seeing Jo shake her head behind Velta.\n\n\"Because I know.\" Velta replied looking over her shoulder at Sam and lowering her voice further.\n\n\"I know all about them and they hate me for it.\"\n\n\"What do you know?\" Mandy enquired further as Jo shrugged and looked away.\n\n\"See that one there?\" Velta replied nodding towards Jayne. \"She's a devious, sarcastic bitch. Fucking junkie. Carol's another one, a two faced bitch. If you mix it up with Jayne you got to mix it with Carol, they're two peas in a pod, them two.\"\n\n\"Leave it out Velta.\" Jo interjected. \"Let the girl make her own impressions, filling her head up with crap on the girl's first night.\"\n\n\"I'm Just putting her right.\" Velta snapped. \"Then there's Sam.\"\n\nShe said looking across the bar quickly and talking in a very low voice.\n\n\" The boss's girl, she's weird with a capital W.\"\n\n\"Come on.\" Mandy said softly. \"She's a bit strict but...\"\n\n\"You'll see what I mean eventually.\" Velta interjected picking up her drink.\n\n\"Don't get mixed up with her, unless you want to end up like Lorri.\"\n\n\"Velta!\" Jo said firmly. \"That's enough.\"\n\n\"What's going on here?\" Sam said stepping over to the group and examining the three women. \"Nothing.\" Velta replied before strolling away. \"Just chewing the fat.\"\n\nSam walked away and Mandy looked at Jo who was trying to look cool but was obviously very wound up.\n\n\"Who was Lorri?\" Mandy asked her friend as Velta returned to the mirror on the opposite wall.\n\n\"Sam has a john called Carter, he's English and he comes here a lot. He is weird, seriously weird. He doesn't do any other girl normally, just Sam, they have a very intense thing going on. Lorri got involved with the two of them; in that room...\"\n\n\"I'm intrigued now.\" Mandy said hushing her voice too. \"What room?\"\n\n\"Sam's got her own room; you'll find out about that.\" Jo looked behind her to make sure they were not being overheard before continuing.\n\n\"One night the three of them were in there together and I'm with a punter in the room below I could hear all this noise, Carter's shouting about pigs and dogs and shit. Nothing unusual but then there was this awful scream and this smell that made you feel sick. It was fucking awful.\n\nLater, after we closed I heard Ruby and Sam arguing which was unusual, very unusual. Ruby really lost it and punched her flat in the face; I mean, in front of all of us. These two women are close like this.\" Jo made a sign of two crossed fingers.\n\n\"They never argue, but that night Ruby kicked her arse.\"\n\n\"What about Lorri?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Jo said taking a gulp from her glass. \"The next day she was gone and we haven't seen her since. If anyone asks, Ruby just flashes Sam a cold look and comes out with some bullshit about her leaving. I mean, in the middle of the night?\"\n\n\"Wow.\" Mandy replied taking a quick look at Sam.\n\n\"Then,\" Jo continued. \"I caught Lizzy burning a load of clothing a few days later. I think they murdered Lorri, in that room up there, and cut her body into little pieces. We all do.\"\n\n\"That's really scary.\" Mandy said softly. She looked about the room and its features seemed\n\ndifferent somehow; like her view of the place had changed in that instant.\n\n\"What makes you think they cut her up?\" she asked innocently. \"What, to get rid of the body more easily?\"\n\n\"You know what I think?\" Jo replied.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I think Carter ate her.\" She laughed loudly.\n\nA shadow fell across the two women and Mandy looked up to see Ruby standing over them with a stone cold expression on her face.\n\n\"If you two have finished Jawing...\" Ruby said abruptly. \"...Perhaps Jo could get to work and entertain Mr Walsh.\"\n\nShe nodded to the other end of the bar towards a man who had entered the room. Sam was pouring him a drink. Jo got off her stool smiled briefly and strolled towards the man.\n\n\"Mandy?\" Ruby said through pursed lips.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"When I told you to go mix with the girls I didn't mean for you to sit here exchanging horror stories with Jo; understand?\"\n\n\"Horror stories?\" Mandy said trying to look confused and innocent. She failed on both accounts.\n\n\"Just don't believe everything you hear in this place.\" Ruby said taking a drink from Sam who had joined them both.\n\n\"These girls have got vivid imaginations, okay kid?\"\n\nMandy nodded and went to stand nearer the two girls on the love seat. She was thinking about what Jo had said and wondered how much was true, if anything. Sam did look strange but a murderer, perhaps not. She decided to not make her mind up about any of it until she had been there a little longer, and until she had met this person called Carter; then she would know.\n\n\"Mandy Honey.\" Ruby called from the bar. \"Come join us, baby.\"\n\nMandy looked over and saw Ruby smiling and waving for her to join them. She was holding a glass of gin and a wisp of stray red hair had fallen across her drunken face. Mandy noticed for the first time that Ruby had a slight bulge across her waist, a middle aged spread, and it was spreading quickly.\n\nAs Mandy went to join her she saw a man standing next to Ruby, he was a tall white man with blond flecked dark hair. Dressed neatly in a suit and tie the man smiled a full set of gleaming white teeth at the girl as she joined them.\n\n\"Mandy,\" Ruby beamed. \"This is Max.\"\n\n\"Delighted.\" Max hissed like a snake taking Mandy's hand as she met him and kissing it gently. Mandy felt the roughness of his chin touch her skin and a shock of electricity shot up her spine.\n\n\"This is Mandy....\" Ruby said as if she was trying to sell a new motorcar. \"...our newest girl, a delicate child untouched by human hand. She's lovely wouldn't you agree?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Max replied raising an eyebrow and drinking the girl in. \"Lovely, really beautiful.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Mandy said flattered by the man's attention. Mandy wrinkled her face with a coy expression. Was he a man, she thought, no he's no more than a boy; tall, thin, wide shouldered with a pale pretty pace and blond hair that curled down over one eye. He smiled again, a clean antiseptic smile with perfectly straight and white teeth.\n\nThis, she thought, was the smile of a quiet schoolboy, the type who breaks school windows at\n\nmidnight and gets away with a smile at the headmistress. A boy who steals flowers from a\n\ngarden but gives them to his mother. This was Max.\n\n\"She's really a virgin, you know.\" Ruby announced so that all could hear but it was intended for Max's ears especially.\n\n\"I didn't think there were any left.\" Max quipped flashing that wide bright smile.\n\n\"Oh yes, dear...\" Ruby said to him swigging more gin. \"...this girl's a treasure. The daughter of an African queen, kidnapped as a small babe by a wicked witchdoctor.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Max laughed. He cast a knowing smile at Mandy who listened with quiet amazement to Ruby's fantastic tale. A smile crossed her lips and her eyes met Max's gaze for a brief moment as a flash of heat rippled through her body.\n\n\"Yes...\" Ruby continued. \"...taken by the beast to J'pan where she escaped and found safety in a nunnery in Peking.\n\n\"Hmm.\" Max interrupted. \"I always thought Peking was in China.\"\n\n\"No dear.\" Ruby slurred with a wry smile. \"Peking, J'pan. Anyone with half a brain knows there are two of them. Anyway, where was I. Oh yes, during the Jap revolution she was smuggled out in the back of a truck full of bibles and taken to America by a God fearing member of the U.S Navy.\"\n\n\"Jesus...\" Max laughed. \"...and she's still a virgin, what's going on here?\"\n\n\"He was important.\" Ruby sniffed knocking back another gin.\n\n\"And impotent, I guess.\" Max said with a knowing smile.\n\n\"Well dear.\" Ruby said as Sam filled her glass again. \"I can see you two are going to get on like a house on fire.\" She turned to Mandy and winked.\n\n\"Take the man to your room dear, you're in good hands.\"\n\nMandy took Max's arm and while he sank the last of his drink led him to the door and on to her room.\n\n\"So this is it?\" Max asked sitting on the bed as she followed him in.\n\n\"That's right, a room with a view.\" Mandy replied coyly.\n\n\"Ah...\" Max said softly as his fingers stroked the white quilt. \"...but a view to what?\"\n\n\"To sex of course.\" She purred trying to not look too nervous.\n\n\"Your mother's not really an African queen I take it?\" He asked with a crooked smile.\n\n\"If you want.\" She replied joining him on the bed.\n\n\"What about the nuns and Peking?\"\n\n\"Whatever you want baby.\" She replied taking the strap from her dress and letting it fall from her shoulder. She reached over and touched his groin.\n\nShe could feel his cock was already hard and it throbbed gently in her hand.\n\nIt was the first time she had held a man's penis and the thought of seeing it made her wild with excitement, she could feel the blood filling her crotch and the heat was unbearable.\n\n\"Hay, princess...\"Max whispered as he pushed the hair from her eyes. \"...slow down a little.\"\n\nHe reached over and let her other strap fall down and this made the dress slip from her body exposing her small plump breasts. She stood and removed it together with her panties and lay back on the bed smiling at him.\n\nHis eyes drank her in from the green of her eyes to the small mound of black hair between her legs. He stood and started to undress. She looked at the huge long lump throbbing through his pants and laughed.\n\n\"What's funny?\" he asked taking off his shirt and exposing his smooth white chest.\n\n\"I just wondered what my mother would think if she saw me now?\"\n\n\"The African queen?\" he smiled taking down his pants. His cock bounced up like a rod and as she looked it moved with a life of its own in gentle throbs.\n\n\"That's the one.\" She gasped as he thrust it between her legs.\n\n\"Ah...\" she moaned feeling it probe her hymen. \"...Slowly, please.\"\n\n\"She would be very proud of you.\"\n\nHe did as she asked and pushed a little more gently. She felt a ripping inside her that hurt just a little\n\nbut it was a nice hurt, a hurt that made her sigh loudly. Then he was in a bit further and she could feel her juices run warm down there, lubricating the smooth action as he thrust further and deeper into her body.\n\nHe was breathing in her ear and she couldn't contain herself as a cry left her lips that made\n\nhim look in her eyes and ask if she was okay. She couldn't speak only push her groin into him, taking him deeper into her body and reaching down towards his soft buttocks. Then he collapsed upon her and she felt a strange spurting deep inside her; feeling his cock throb again and again and again as he quivered and sighed loudly.\n\n\"Thank you.\" He said softly after an immeasurable period of time laying on her with his breath in her ear. Then, rolling from her, he said.\n\n\"Now it's your turn.\"\n\n\"It is?\" She said confused. He pulled her knees open and his fingers reached out to stroke her crotch. She felt them touching her intimately and stroking her so softly she that she melted like chocolate.\n\nHis head went down and she felt his tongue eating her up and sucking it all out of her until she could take it no longer. She beat the mattress with her fists and cried out aloud as her body exploded with sensation.\n\n\"Go on.\" He said softly. \"Masturbate for me.\"\n\n\"What?\" she replied breathlessly.\n\n\"Touch yourself...\" Max smiled. \"...like you would in private. I want to look at you.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Mandy asked. It was something she had not even considered being asked but thought, he was paying for the time, so why not.\n\nShe did as he wanted and looked across as he furiously beat on his penis with a clenched fist.\n\nThe sight made her more and more excited and again she shook with orgasmic passion just as his penis exploded with come, it shot through the air and splashed across her breasts.\n\nHe reached out and played with it for a moment before licking his own come up with his tongue. Mandy though that was slightly strange but she smiled anyway. Then he was dressing and they were both heading back to the bar; in silence, as if the whole scene hand never happened. It left her feeling cold and unsatisfied, but it was business after all, not a relationship. She could have spent a night in that room with him and wondered why he dressed so quickly; perhaps she had upset him.\n\nLater at the bar she looked across the room and saw Max talking to Jayne and Carol. They were laughing at his jokes and playing with each other to get his hand back in his pocket and pay out more cash. She shook her head and turned towards the bar and saw that Sam was staring at her.\n\nRuby was now very drunk and talking to another man, her face was red and swollen and her eye makeup had run a little. Mandy could feel Sam's eyes burning into her and it made her feel uneasy.\n\nThose cold black eyes were as mysterious as death itself; rotten yet seductive; the eyes of mystery. She could have been the scarlet women from the bible, riding on a many headed beast, her name written in sparkling spangles upon the beast's brow.\n\nMystery, she was named, Babylonia the great mother of whores and abominations.\n\n\"Hi.\" Mandy smiled, trying to see if she could break that cold stare. Sam just snarled and turned away toward Ruby\n\n\"I thought we were all sisters round here?\" Mandy said softly annoyed by the rebuttal\n\n\"Sisters?\" Sam replied looking towards her. \"Bullshit, I'm the boss and you're just a whore; you got that whore?\"\n\n\"You fucking bitch!\" Mandy spat. \"I was only trying...\"\n\n\"Hay, hay. What's going on here?\" Ruby shouted abruptly slapping hand down hard on the bar and looking away from her male friend. She acted like she was used to clearing up after Sam. Ruby was just about to add something else when the door opened and a voice resounded around the room.\n\n\"Good evening.\"\n\nChapter 5\n\nAll three women turned to see a man enter the room and join them. Mandy noticed at once that Sam's expression changed; she didn't smile but her eyes creased in the corners as if she wanted to but couldn't drop the pretence in front of the staff.\n\n\"Good evening to you, Carter.\" Ruby drooled.\n\nMandy looked at this man she had heard was a killer, he certainly looked deathly white and his pupils were the size of large saucepan lids; glassy. He had dark purple lines under his eyes and his blue lips appeared dry and cracked. His tongue darted in and out of his mouth like a serpent; red and slippery.\n\n\"Who is this beauty?\" he said with a fake smile turning his gaze upon Mandy, she felt like she was being picked out by bright searchlights and every fault would be illuminated brightly.\n\n\"This is Mandy...\" Ruby sniffed pushing the girl forwards closer towards him. \"...she's my newest Girl; you'll love her.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he snarled. \"I have a thing for Mandies, they're my favourite past-time. Everyone loves a Mandy in the morning, ain't that right? Although I love Mandies at anytime of the day.\"\n\nHe smiled broadly and then leant forwards digging in his pocket and pulling out a bag of pills. \"Do you want one?\"\n\n\"One what?\" Mandy replied confused by the man's animation. She looked at the bag and screwed her nose up.\n\n\"One what?\" he laughed seemingly mimicking her country accent. The other's laughed with him like they knew the joke and she didn't.\n\n\"Did you hear that...\" he screamed, \"...one what? A fucking Mandrax of course.\"\n\n\"What's a Mandrax?\" Mandy smiled trying to get with the joke but failing. They had all known each other for a long time before she came along; and she realised it would take time before she would get it.\n\n\"What's a fucking Mandrax.\" Carter screamed pulling a really vile face that instantly frightened her. \"What are you, fucking stupid or what?\"\n\n\"She's new here, Carter, go easy on her; my newest girl isn't used to our games.\" Ruby snivelled unconvincingly as one of her false eye lashes came unstuck and fluttered in her eye like a lost blue-bottle. Carter's vile expression melted into a sycophantic smile and Carter nodded at Ruby like he was doing a small bow.\n\n\"Try one, Bitch.\" He said taking a pill out of the bag and holding it to her mouth.\n\n\"I'm not your bitch.\" Mandy said firmly.\n\n\"Ohh...\" he laughed aloud. \"...this one's got balls. Come on woman, I'm only pulling your leg; try it. Just one little old pill isn't gonna do much is it?\" he squealed in that thick British accent.\n\nShe relented and opened her mouth to take the pill. The others all cheered while Mandy looked around to see Sam, sneering at her amongst the smiling faces. She actually looked jealous because Carter was giving his attention to her rather than the Bosses foreman.\n\n\"From today, my dear...\" Carter announced to the room. \"...your name will be Lady Mandrax; my little pill.\"\n\nSam then appeared at the bar beside him like a bad smell and offered Carter a drink which he greedily took; it was her way of getting his attention.\n\n\"I'd better keep an eye on you.\" A voice said from behind. Mandy turned and found Jo standing beside her. The punter she'd been with was putting his coat on and leaving.\n\n\"How was he?\" Mandy asked casually.\n\n\"Big mouth, small dick.\" Jo replied with a smile.\n\n\"How was it for you...\" Jo asked leaning on the bar between Carter and Mandy.\n\n\"... I hear Max is quite the ladies man?\"\n\n\"It was okay.\" Mandy replied looking across the room towards him and Carol. She was doing her party trick of placing both ankles behind her head.\n\n\"It seems I didn't interest him for too long.\"\n\n\"Don't let that bother you girl.\" Jo smiled. \"Remember, these men are controlled by their dicks, they don't have brains in their heads. All their motivation's down in their pants. Just think about the cash; you'll remember me saying that one day; you wait and see.\"\n\nMandy suddenly started to feel dies-associated. The room appeared further away in her vision and Jo's voice started to come and go in waves.\n\n\"Are you starting to feel that Quaalude?\"\n\n\"I can feel something.\" Mandy replied reaching out for the bar and holding on tightly.\n\n\"It's weird.\"\n\n\"They always are the first time.\" Jo replied. \"I like this track, come dance, it'll make you feel\n\nbetter.\"\n\n\"Dance, who me?\" Mandy replied as Jo took her by the hand.\n\nThe music was a soul track that was played on the radio all the time in Carolina; some girl group out of Motor city, Detroit. Their shrill voices appeared to filled the room as the beat thumped on relentlessly.\n\nBaby Love, Oh Baby love, I need you,\n\nOh I need your love\n\nWhen you're far away from me\n\nWhy do you do me like you do\n\nWhen I been true to you\n\nLoving through all these years...\n\nMandy felt good shaking her body to the sound and facing Jo who was smiling and throwing her hair about, which in turn made her laugh.\n\n\"Yha, that's so cool.\" Max shouted seeing the two women moving together.\n\nMandy rolled her hair and rocked her head and thrust her groin in time to the beat. She felt a\n\nhundred feet high in that moment and nothing could touch her.\n\n\"Yha!\" she shouted as the beat drummed into her dizzy mind. Then Jo had her arms around her hips and was swinging her around and around and around.\n\nThe room took on a blurred shape and the music echoed into silence; she found herself laying on her bed and the night had gone by in a flash. That night the air was thick and warm as she lay in her bed sleeping. Dreams came and went, fractured visions invaded her mind and then were gone like the buzzing of a night mosquito.\n\nMandy saw her mother briefly riding the clouds on wings of fire. In her hand was a long black switch. That's what she'd call the thin branches that grew in the garden of the old house. If ever Mandy had misbehaved her mother would get angry and get herself armed with a switch. Then she'd use it to beat her.\n\nThe sound of the thin branch swooping through the air was more terrifying then the sting it left in her buttocks.\n\n\"Praise the Lord.\" Her mother screamed as that switch cracked the air and swooped down. Mandy opened her tightly clenched eyes and looked down between her legs to see a vision of horror there. Bloodied and thick with gristle Carter was eating her.\n\nShe sat up and gasped. The room was quiet and empty and a small breeze blew through the grey chintz curtain. Her head ached and her mouth was dry and something bothered her, she was unsure what. A cold sweat dripped down her spine and covered her face in a thin film. For some reason she felt fearful but could not understand why; she tried to remember her dream but it was gone.\n\nShe got out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown before going to the door and peering out. The hall was empty and she saw the bathroom door open so she ran quickly to it and stepped inside having her morning toilet. Then she returned to her room and turned on the shower Velta was whinging about missing.\n\nRunning the steaming water over her body, Mandy realised why Velta had moaned so much; it was bliss, and to have a shower in her room was heavenly. Mandy quickly washed her private parts and then her face. Then she tried to remove the film of sweat that covered her body from the humid night in that huge bed; before using a bottle of shampoo to clean her hair. It felt good to have the water rushing over her body.\n\nThere was an old razor on the floor of the shower which she brushed over her legs and under her arms before rinsing it and placing it back where she found it.\n\nMandy then wrapped a towel around herself and sat on the only chair in the room. Situated by the dressing table it allowed her to gaze into huge mirror above it; she ran her fingers through her curly hair and looked into her green eyes. There were rings below them like she had seen around Carter's the previous evening.\n\nCarter, she thought, he was a strange one. Really animated like he was high as a kite; he probably was, she concluded. Then another thought occurred to her; it was a memory of last night's dream, the switch, the pain, the screams of delight from her mother's mouth; Carter's eyes.\n\nAll the images seemed to roll up and get jumbled in her brain until all she could think of was that pain she got when Max had thrust his cock into her. It was a nice pain, something she wanted to experience again.\n\n\"Miss Ruby wants to see you, Girl.\" Liz called from the doorway snapping Mandy from her thoughts. She was startled at first and then angry.\n\n\"Don't you ever knock?\" she said abruptly.\n\n\"You'd better put some clothes on instead of catching flies with that big mouth of yours...\"\n\nLiz replied, flashing her that toothless grin. \"...Miss Ruby don't like being kept waiting, no sir. Not by any country girl anyhow.\"\n\nMandy did as she was told and a few minutes later was tapping on Ruby's office door.\n\n\"Enter.\" A horse voice crocked from within. Mandy entered the room and closed the door behind her.\n\n\"Morning Dear.\" Ruby smiled brightly. \"I hope you slept well?\"\n\nShe fumbled around for a cigarette and then looked for a lighter which Mandy saw on the table behind a lamp. She picked it up and lit Ruby's cigarette.\n\n\"I suppose you're wondering why I've called you down here so early?\" Ruby asked with a wry grin. Mandy raised an expectant eyebrow and took a seat facing the woman.\n\n\"Well,\" she announced breathing out a cloud of cigarette smoke. \"I got the feeling that you felt a little persecuted by Sam last night; I wanted a quiet word just to put your mind at ease.\"\n\n\"I don't like being called a fucking whore or a bitch...\" Mandy replied confidently. \"... If she treats everyone like that it's a wonder no one has given her a slap.\"\n\n\"People have tried, my dear.\" Ruby huffed. \"I abhor physical violence personally; but it's just Sam's way. She's very protective of me and my business; she says it's having boundaries...\" Ruby shrugged and frowned.\n\n\"...As you are new around here I didn't want our relationship to end so soon after it had begun.\"\n\nShe smiled like a tiger about to eat a chicken. \"Do you understand?\"\n\n\"I guess so.\" Mandy replied realising that she was being told that she was the hired help and Sam was in charge; any offence she felt had to be swallowed; at least for the time being.\n\n\"You're telling me to cool it with Sam until I've got to know her better.\"\n\n\"That's it Dear.\"\n\n\"Even if she calls me names?\"\n\n\"Sticks and stones and all that...\" Ruby smiled. \"...just don't take it personally; If you want to keep your job that is. There, I think we understand each other. Now, how are you getting on with the other girls?\"\n\n\"They seem a nice bunch, well, Velta can be a handful but...\"\n\n\"Now listen here... \"Ruby interrupted her with a cloud of smoke filling the space between them. \"...whatever Velta comes out with you have to take with a pinch of salt; that goes for most of these girls.\" She paused for a moment before sucking hard on her cigarette and breaking into a soft smile.\n\n\"How was it with Max?\"\n\n\"Okay, but I...\"\n\n\"Good girl...\" Ruby interjected again, making it clear she wasn't really interested in anything Mandy had to say.\n\n\"...now you run along and I'll see you at six.\"\n\nRuby smiled again before picking up some papers and inspecting them. Mandy didn't have to be told so she turned to go.\n\n\"Oh, Deary?\"\n\n\"Yes Ruby?\" Mandy replied as she stepped to the door.\n\n\"Tonight, just go along with whatever I say, okay love?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nChapter 6\n\nLiz was cleaning the stairs as Mandy climbed to the top. The old woman gave her a toothless grin before turning back to her cleaning.\n\n\"What's up there?\" Mandy asked pointing to the flight of stairs that led to the next floor.\n\n\"Nothing of interest to you, country girl.\" Liz snapped back.\n\n\"Can I go up there?\" Mandy persisted. She was going to have to get to know the entire house and so far the next level was the only floor she'd not seen.\n\n\"Nope!\" Liz replied without turning. Her hands scrubbed at the banister forcefully as if she had become tense all of a sudden.\n\n\"Why's that?\" Mandy asked knowing that Liz didn't want to explain why and this made her all the more inquisitive.\n\n\"Look, young lady...\" Liz drawled putting down her duster and turning to face the young girl.\n\n\"There's only two rooms up there and they are no business of yours.\"\n\n\"Who's rooms are they?\" Mandy persisted.\n\n\"One is Sam's bedroom and the other is...\" The old woman broke off and looked over her shoulder.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"The other is the Black Room.\" Liz picked up her duster and carried on scrubbing at the woodwork.\n\n\"I wonder if I'll get a chance to work there?\" Mandy said casually. \"I like the colour Black.\"\n\n\"You won't want to work in that room?\" Liz said peering over her shoulder.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\nThe old woman's expression turned hard and she looked at Mandy intensely for a few moments before adding.\n\n\"She won't let you do that?\"\n\n\"Who won't let me do what?\" Mandy asked.\n\n\"Sam...\" Liz sneered. \"...She won't let you work the black room. If you knew what you was saying you wouldn't want to go near the place either.\"\n\n\"What's Sam go to do with it?\" Mandy replied peering up the stairs. \"I just like the colour\n\nBlack; that's all.\"\n\n\"You like the colour?\n\n\"Yes.\" Mandy replied.\n\n\"You like the colour black? Liz repeated firmly.\n\n\"Ah, Ha!\"\n\nLiz pursed her lips and squinted her eyes before looking the girl up and down saying.\n\n\"Has Velta been talking to you about what goes on up there?\" The old woman screwed up her face and paused for a moment looking deep into Mandy's eyes.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then Jo, she's been talking?\"\n\n\"No.\" Mandy replied. \"Why should they?\"\n\n\"Oh, no reason.\" Liz replied placing her duster back in the box she used to carry it and the other cleaning stuffs around in.\n\n\"You just like the colour black?\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"Like black shoes?\" Liz smiled.\n\n\"That's right.\" Mandy smiled back.\n\n\"Black shirts?\"\n\n\"Them too.\" Mandy replied.\n\n\"How about...\" Liz said hushing her voice and leaning forwards slightly. \"...How about black leather?\"\n\n\"Black leather...\" Mandy repeated. \"...I love black leather. How about you? I can just see you in a pair of tight leather pants.\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" The old woman snapped before shuffling off towards the bottom of the stairs cursing under her breath.\n\n\" Get that bitch.\" She mumbled with a hoot. \"...imagine me in black leather? I'd look like a garbage bag with legs; what a sight.\"\n\nMandy laughed out loud and went to her room.\n\nChapter 7\n\nMax sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. Looking around the office, at the\n\nthreadbare carpet, the un-shaded light bulb which hung limply from the dusty ceiling and the battered and cluttered desk; he pondered the state of insurance and, more importantly, why no one was buying any.\n\nLooking at the static telephone and wondering if it was ever going to ring before the rental became due again he felt slightly depressed. He lit a cigarette and closed his eyes. Then, like a light in the midst of his depression, he saw her green eyes shining like comets in a black sky.\n\nHe imagined her soft curls falling upon her delicate shoulders and her glowing face so full of youthful optimism. If only, he pondered, he could reach out his fingers and find her there.\n\nMax glanced at his old Rolex watch and saw it was about time for some lunch. Perhaps if he took a stroll down Sunset Avenue he might catch a sight of her. He swung his feet off the desk and stood up.\n\nThe warm sun shone gently upon his face and bare arms as he stepped into the street. It was sticky and humid and it made him realise just how good the air conditioning was in that battered old office. He set out into the bright light and wished he'd worn a hat as the sun glinted off passing traffic almost blinding him. After only a few steps he could feel the back of his collar become wet and his feet felt moist tight within his shoes.\n\n\"Flowers, Mac?\" A bent and wrinkled old man asked holding up a bunch of roses as Max approached.\n\n\"How much for a bunch?\" Max asked while secretly counting the change in his pant's pocket.\"\n\n\"A Dollar.\" The old man replied passing the bunch to Max as he pulled a handful of change out for inspection.\n\n\"How about 96 cents?\"\n\n\"Ah, go on then.\" The old man sniffed taking the handful of change and giving over the bunch of blooms.\n\nMandy looked from her window at the bright summer day and thought that she'd like to go and have a look around her new neighbourhood. Slipping on a pair of open toes sandals and checking her appearance in the mirror she dashed out the room and bumped into Jayne in the hall.\n\n\"Hello,\" she smiled. \"It's Jayne isn't it?\"\n\n\"That's right Honey.\" The woman replied with a wide smile and southern drawl.\n\n\"So how you finding it so far?\"\n\n\"Last night was okay. I guess I've not been here long enough to make any real impressions...\"\n\n\"Going through your honeymoon period?\" Jayne smiled. Her eyes creased up in the corners like she was examining something awful and this made Mandy feel uncomfortable\n\n.\"Yes, I guess you could say that.\" Mandy replied.\n\n\"You going out for a walk?\"\n\n\"That's right.\" Mandy smiled, edging past the woman. \"It's a nice day, I thought why not.\"\n\n\"Well you take care now.\" Jayne frowned.\n\nAs she left the building the heat from the sun struck her face like a hot rod. She took a deep\n\nbreath before going down the gravel path towards the gate at the end and didn't notice the chintz curtain of the main downstairs room twitch as a cold pair of eyes watched her go. She closed the gate behind her and was deciding which way to go when a bunch of roses appeared under her nose.\n\n\"Hi.\" A voice said softly. She looked up and saw Max smiling at her with those perfect teeth.\n\n\"Oh, hello.\" Mandy replied somewhat awkwardly; he was the last person she expected to run into.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" He replied looking over her shoulder at the house. \"Insurance is a bit quiet today.\"\n\n\"Well,\" she smiled back. \"I don't work till tonight.\"\n\n\"I'm not here for that.\" He said with a stutter.\n\n\"No, I just fancied a walk and I was going this way and...\"\n\n\"You thought I'd like some flowers?\"\n\n\"I bought them for you.\" He continued. \"I was going to pop them into you.\"\n\n\"Insurance can't be that slow...\" she laughed. \"...If you can afford to waste money on flowers.\"\n\n\"Not if they are for you.\" He whispered.\n\n\"Well, thank you.\" She said. \"When I get back I'll put them in water.\"\n\nShe looked at him and raised her eyebrows before saying awkwardly.\n\n\"I was just going somewhere. Shall I see you later?\"\n\n\"Don't be like that.\" Max whined. \"I thought we could...\"\n\n\"I'm not working right now.\" She repeated as she started to walk away from him.\n\n\"I just thought that...\"\n\n\"What Max?\" She snapped.\n\nMandy stopped and turned to face him; the smile had gone and her expression was now sterner and more intense.\n\n\"You thought what?\"\n\n\"I thought, as you're not working we could get to know one another better; you know, as friends.\"\n\n\"Oh Max.\" She laughed remembering how he had gone and spent the rest of the previous night with Carol and Jayne..\n\n\"...Just fuck off.\"\n\nShe turned and continued to walk. He was shocked by her language and looked at her storm away like he had lost the fight for a moment. Then a wide smile broke out on his face and he ran to catch her up.\n\n\"Wait a minute.\" He said grabbing on to her arm and stopping her.\n\n\"Can't I just walk with you?\"\n\n\"Let go of my arm Max.\" She struggled to pull free.\n\n\"Give me five minutes.\" He pleaded holding her tighter.\n\n\"Okay.\" She spat pulling her arm from his grip.\n\n\"Five minutes.\"\n\nShe continued to walk and as he stepped beside her, Max was desperately trying to think of something to say that would catch her interest.\n\n\"Can't we be friends?\" He asked after a short pause. \"Out of work hours?\"\n\n\"Oh come on Max.\" she sighed looking at him briefly. \"It wouldn't work.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because.\" She said smelling the flowers and thinking of the last time she had the scent of\n\nroses in her nose. They grew outside the old master's bedroom window and when she was a girl she would get that scent every time she was passing there. That scent had a meaning all of its own and she was not sure if she liked it.\n\n\"Because what?\" Max asked with a puppy dog smile.\n\n\"...Because I'm not good for you.\" She turned to face him and sighed as a curl of hair fell into her eyes she pushed it behind her ear and caught him in her emerald gaze.\n\n\"I'm not the sort of girl you'd take home to your mother.\"\n\n\"My mother's dead...\" He lied hoping to put that argument to bed. \" ...and anyway, I think I love you.\"\n\n\"Bullshit.\" She spat. \"Now I know you're full of crap.\"\n\nShe shook her head and walked away from him secretly smiling to herself. As she got to the end of the road she heard him calling her name.\n\n\"Mandy?\" he shouted. \"I'll see you tonight then?\"\n\nShe did not look back and as she continued to walk Mandy couldn't help but laugh out loud; that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. As she returned to the house and pushed open the street door Mandy found Liz waiting inside the porch for her.\n\n\"Miss Ruby wants you.\"\n\n\"What again?\" Mandy replied with a loud sigh. Surely Ruby didn't question all the girls on a twice daily basis. Perhaps she had done something else wrong. She prepared herself for another lecture and followed Liz through the hall towards Ruby's office once more but now with some trepidation.\n\n\"Sam's in there with her...\" Liz said softly blocking the door. \"...they want to speak to you; together.\"\n\n\"Well let me in then.\" Mandy replied with a huff.\n\n\"Come in Mandy, dear...\" Ruby smiled in a haze of cigarette smoke as Mandy closed the door behind her. Sam, as usual, was situated just behind the seated Ruby almost silhouetted against the huge bay window; a shiny black shadow caught in a bright halo of sunlight. Mandy took in the tall black leather boots Sam wore and particularly the six inch heels that looked sharper then a pencil tip.\n\nHer legs emerged from the top of her boots like fish-net clad pillars, toned and strong. A small black leather skirt clung to her hips and a black leather bodice flowed from it perfectly holding her shape; toned but not too muscular.\n\nThe sleeves were fastened with cord and the sides decorated with silver studs. Sam's hair was pulled back into a tight bun as brutal as the look she was giving Mandy. The glare was so intense the young girl looked away to avoid its cut; feeling like a dear in headlights or timid prey caught in the crosshairs of the sniper's rifle..\n\n\"Well,\" Ruby said confidently. \"You seem to be settling in okay?\"\n\nIt was more of an observation then a question.\n\n\"Okay.\" Mandy replied wondering what they really wanted. She felt like she had done something wrong and was about to be asked to leave but then, Sam had a habit of making her feel like that whenever they were in the same room, so they could be giving her a promotion. Mandy guessed Sam's expression would always be the same.\n\n\"It's just that...\" Ruby continued. She paused and sucked on the cigarette for a moment thoughtfully, then glancing at Sam momentarily, she continued.\n\n\"...Liz mentioned that you might be interested in some of the more specialised work we provide here.\"\n\n\"Did she?\" Mandy replied puzzled by the remark. She thought back to her conversation with the maid earlier and wondered what, exactly, she did say.\n\n\"Yes...\" Ruby said in another cloud of smoke. \"...she said you thought you might like to try it in the Black Room?\"\n\n\"Oh, that?\" Mandy enthused remembering the casual comment she had made earlier. \"Yes, the thought did cross my mind...\"\n\n\"What do you know of Role Play?\" Sam butted in. She cut across Ruby and demanded to know several things Mandy had never heard of.\n\n\"...what do you know of Role Play? What do you know of domination and Sadism?\n\nMandy looked at her and pulled a puzzled expression, she knew the words and had an idea of their meaning but didn't know how to express herself for fear of looking stupid.\n\n\"Are you talking about those tie me up and kiss me games?\" she replied softly. \"When I was at school they took us to a library at one time and I saw a book by Masters and Johnson; I read a little about it there.\"\n\n\"What about tie me up and beat me games...\"Sam smiled. \"...games where you inflict real pain\"\n\n\"Real pain?\" Mandy replied\n\n\"Yes, pain.\" Sam reiterated.\n\n\"Well,\" the young girl replied slowly, picking her words carefully. \"Pain doesn't have to be a bad thing, in moderation it can add to situations. I like the idea of role playing; a dominant\n\nMistress perhaps, you know, the one who has to smack the naughty schoolboy.\"\n\nShe thought for a moment and continued.\n\n\"I could do that, I could enjoy doing that provided it wasn't serious. I guess I could also role play the naughty schoolgirl, you know, who has to be smacked by teacher. It sounds like fun to me.\"\n\n\"What about bondage?\" Sam asked. Her smile had gone and her expression was blank and taut once again.\n\n\"Tell me, what do you know about that?\"\n\nMandy thought for a moment, in fact she had little idea about the subject. She recalled seeing, as a small child, a book the old master had in his study. It contained photographs of a woman in various poses and states of undress. Each one had been bound with rope, sometimes just a close-up of her bound wrists, sometimes the photos were full length. Pictures of the models wrapped from heel to head in knots. The black and white pictures fascinated her although in her small mind their meaning was lost.\n\n\"If you tie them up...\" she replied after a moment of tense silence. \"...You can beat them harder.\"\n\nThis made Ruby smile. She nodded her head and glanced around at Sam as if to get her approval but none was forthcoming. Sam just stared ahead deep in thought.\n\n\"Humiliation?\" Sam asked eventually. \"What do you know, tell me?\"\n\n\"Hum, humilli, humilliwhat?\" Mandy stuttered. She had heard the word before but was now lost in that stare struggling to for a coherent answer.\n\n\"Humiliation,\" Sam said softly. \"...is an art-form. It's a role-play whereby, through the use of words and actions, a person's ego is reduced to a state of total obedience and service. They become filth.\n\nDo you understand?\"\n\n\"Look.\" Mandy replied confidently. \"I'm just a dumb country girl who may not be very good at long words but I know what I want and I can act hard if I want to. Role-play is just acting in my book and that's something I can do very well. I am prepared to give anything a go and when I do, I'll give one hundred per cent.\"\n\n\"You have a lot to learn.\" Sam replied. \"Sadomasochism is an art form and, I might add, a way of life. It's far from a child's dressing up game and sexual penetration is seldom necessary. There are far more dangerous ways to get aroused; just how far are you prepared to go?\"\n\nThe two women looked at each other in the eye and for the first time since they had met Mandy, felt like she was talking on equal terms with Sam. She pursed her lips and replied.\n\n\"All the way, boss, all the way.\"\n\n\"Good.\" Ruby said lighting another cigarette from the stub of the last.\n\n\"Sam will show you the room this afternoon and once you become familiar with the equipment we'll give you a chance to use it; you're pay will stay the same on this trial period. If you get on you will earn extra; but keep that to yourself.\"\n\nShe looked around at Sam who just nodded in silence.\n\n\"You will be her apprentice for a while, okay, good.\"\n\nMandy let this information sink into her head and wanted to smile but thought better of it.\n\nShe nodded at Ruby and looked one last time at her new tutor before Ruby said with a broad smile. \"You can go now, dear. I'll send Liz for you about four o clock.\"\n\nChapter 8\n\nMandy made her way back to her room feeling shell -shocked. The interview with Ruby that morning had been draining but the one she had just left made her feel empty. The only positive thing that had come out of it was the promise of alternative work; although she had only fucked Max the thought of fucking a stranger every night wasn't comforting. It was just a means of making money.\n\nIf she could make money and not get fucked in the process, well, that seemed like a better way to go. The only sticking point was that she's have to work more closely with Sam and that didn't appeal to her at all.\n\nRemembering her days as a young school girl a thought occurred to her. One teacher had told her that Bullies were generally cowards who had to put on a tough act to protect themselves; that they were really weak inside.\n\nPerhaps this was Sam's problem; behind that stern exterior lurked a weak and frightened little girl. This thought made her smile. As she passed the bathroom door it opened and Jayne stepped into the hall. She was damp and her hair was tied above her head with a towel. A damp dressing gown slung over her shoulders hardly covered her large breasts; she awkwardly tried to prevent them falling out.\n\n\"Hi Ya?\" she smiled. Mandy looked at her and saw that the girl had a deathly complexion. Her eyes were sunk into their sockets and ringed with purple lines. Jayne's high cheekbones stuck out from her face and her pale skin seemed stretched over them.\n\n\"How you getting on?\"\n\nThe voice was slurred and slow like she was drugged. Mandy was unsure if she should mention her meeting with Ruby and Sam and decided to keep it to herself for the time being.\n\n\"I'm fine, and you?\"\n\n\"Ya'know how it is babe.\" Jayne smiled, her teeth were white but had yellow stains in the gaps which Mandy took for an indication of bad oral hygiene. This girl's got problems, she thought.\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"See you later.\" Jayne slurred before stumbling off to her room. Mandy watched her go and thought that she might end up in the same way if she was not careful; tainted, used goods. It was something she wanted to avoid.\n\nAfter reaching her room Mandy lay on her bed and drifted off to sleep, it had been a busy day and she could still feel the chemicals from the previous evening in her system. Her heavy lids\n\nflickered and her breathing slowed as she succumbed to the world of dreams.\n\nHer eye lids fluttered, the only outward sign of the turmoil in her head, and she slipped further into a dream state. She could see a flapping banner, or was it the wings of a great bird flying in an empty sky?\n\nVague and maddening, echoing images of flushed red faces, devils dancing in a desert scene with wild and writhing weaving. They pranced and danced around seething, rippling waters. Her eye-lids spasm; here comes Mother emerges from the darkness a bible held high and a cross of gold burning in her eyes.\n\nSpasm.\n\nSam's six inch high heels clicking across a cold stone floor; a flickering black candle.\n\nSpasm.\n\nCarter sprinkles holy water, the colour of blood, red and thick across her beating heart; whispering hail Mary as the wind howls.\n\nSpasm.\n\nShe feels a shock of electric rush though her spine as a vision of Sam flash against a red sky; her cigarette smoking like a viper cruciform; red liquid seeping from the palms of a Christ.\n\nSPASM!\n\nMandy opened her eyes and sat up. The clock beside the bed said it was nearly four; she shook the sleep from her eyes and went to the door arranging her hair quickly in the mirror.\n\n\"Wow!\" she said stepping inside the Black Room for the first time. She had met Liz at the top of the stairs with a duster in one hand and a bucket in the other. The old woman turned on the lighting and began to clean as Mandy looked around. The light was subtle, there was no natural sunlight and green spots converged with red at random intervals from hidden lamps.\n\nThe floor was a bare stone giving the room a cold ambiance like a dungeon or cellar. Attached to the grey brick walls were iron hooks that held chains of varying thickness and ropes. Dark and sinister shadows hung silently in the far off corners and Mandy caught a sight of leather straps and hoods and other garments hanging on a rail.\n\nHanging from a rack was a selection of beating instruments, a riding crop, a rounded rubber club, various canes of differing thickness and length. Beside this was a table that was laid out with a selection of chrome plated utensils reminding her of a dentist's set of tools. As she moved further into the room she saw a long low table that had leather clasps at one end and a\n\nfixed barrel at the other, a rope came from this and had two clasps attached to its end.\n\n\"What's this?\" Mandy asked looking at the object.\n\n\"Don't ask me girl.\" Liz replied rubbing her duster over various objects. \"I just work and keep my mouth shut.\"\n\nMandy saw a black box on the floor beside a far wall. It was four feet high, two feet wide and\n\nabout a foot deep. It was clasped shut with a thick bracket and padlock, she ran her fingers over the cold steel top.\n\n\"I guess you don't know what this is for either?\" she asked looking intently at the box.\n\n\"It's a gimp seclusion device.\" Sam's cold voice replied. Mandy turned to see Sam had entered the room. Liz looked at her momentarily and left swiftly after; dragging her bucket behind her.\n\n\"It's for sensory deprivation.\" Sam continued. She stepped to the box and looked at it with a sneer on her lips. \"Some of our clients like to be in there for hours; it helps them to think. They can be pretty smelly when we let them out.\"\n\n\"Wow, really?\" Mandy replied.\n\n\"Hence the shower room through there...\" Sam nodded towards a door set into a far wall. \"...we also use that room for wet games.\"\n\n\"Water, soap and things?\" Mandy asked softly.\n\n\"Piss!\" Sam said abruptly opening the door and showing the room was lined with black rubber tiles.\n\n\"Piss and other things...\" She continued with a sneering tone. \"...I wouldn't expect anyone to work in there unless they wanted to, of course.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Mandy replied peering into the room.\n\n\"Roma does a lot of work in here.\" Sam closed the door and looked directly into Mandy's eyes. Then she turned and led her to an area towards the centre of the room.\n\n\"This is where most of the discipline takes place.\"\n\nShe said nodding towards a leather harness hanging from the ceiling. \"We hang them there and beat them, of course we must always interview a client prior to their session to find out what their preferences are.\"\n\n\"I see.\"\n\n\"And to select their control word.\" Sam paused. Mandy raised an eyebrow and fingered the\n\nharness.\n\n\"Control word?\"\n\n\"It's important to never cross a person's pain threshold...\" Sam replied. \"...If they say their control word we know they have had enough. Of course some people do not have any sense of control; in which case we must be careful not to permanently harm or disfigure them.\"\n\n\"I see.\" Mandy was then led to the bed like contraption that she had inspected earlier.\n\n\"This is our rack.\" Sam said in a matter of fact fashion. \"If you tie their feet at that end, they\n\nare pulled, stretched. If it is used properly the rack can be used for auto sexual asphyxiation.\"\n\n\"Strangulation?\" Mandy said under her breath.\n\n\"Some of our clients like this while we perform other actions; it is an advanced piece of kit; dangerous. I will show you one day how to use it. For now...\" She said simply. \"...You will just interview the client prior to him entering the room. It's important that he meets the dominatrix only, when the game begins. Understand?\"\n\n\"I think so. Could you show me how this works now?\" Mandy looked towards the rack and gave a small smile.\n\n\"What, why now?\" Sam replied. She creased her eyes in the same way Mandy had seen the previous evening when Carter had entered the room.\n\n\"Let's say I'm fascinated.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Sam said softly. \"If you want, get on.\"\n\nMandy smiled awkwardly and lay upon the contraption allowing Sam to go to work in silence. Her hands were pulled through the two clasps at one end of the bed and the buckles pulled tightly. The creaking leather echoed around the room.\n\nSam then went to the other end and connected the buckles there to Mandy's ankles. Mandy closed her eyes as Sam lent over her and connected the neck buckle. She could feel the cord that connected this to the barrel pull against her head and then she heard it; a slow clicking that ticked in her ears.\n\nThe barrel turned and a ratchet caught, preventing its recoil under the strain of the cords connected to Mandy's body. She could feel the constriction pulling on her wrists and ankles and particularly around her neck as the leather strap tightened with each click. It occurred to her that she had not given a control word and she suddenly felt very vulnerable laying there unable to move.\n\nShe opened her eyes in time to see Sam looking down at her wickedly.\n\nThe clicking stopped in awful silence and her breathing became laboured.\n\nMandy could feel the blood in her head pumping hard and the veins in her forehead felt like they were going to explode as small vessels in her face pumped under pressure. Her breathing was harder and Mandy's eye lashes fluttered as Sam lifted her skirt and pulled down Mandy's panties. Mandy felt a cold draft caress her exposed pubis as her panties were pulled over her thighs. Then fingers tipped with short, sharp nails groped and poked, enquiring and frantic.\n\nHer labia was pulled, pinched and examined until a gush of lubrication enabled the probing to\n\nbecome slower and more thoughtful. Stroking sluggishly, lingering upon her clitoris Sam's fingers manipulated and stimulated the young girl there.\n\nMandy opened her eyes and saw Sam lower her head and felt the caress of her tongue warm upon her skin; kissing it, adoring it, probing and pushing into her. She quivered under its spell, breathing deeply and riveted to the sensation.\n\nThen from the centre of her being she felt a rush of blood burst through her spine as she felt her groin spasm with the most delicious orgasm. It was uncontrollable and spurting, making her feel faint, dizzy and blissfully abused. Her breathing loud and laboured; she sighed an exquisite gasp.\n\n\"You liked that?\" Sam said releasing the ratchet and allowing the cords holding her to slacken.\n\n\"I knew you would.\"\n\nMandy just sucked air into her lungs and looked at her teacher in astonishment. Sam silently undid the straps and buckles before walking to the door. Before she left the room she turned and faced Mandy still reclining on the machine.\n\n\"Be in the bar at six as usual. Ruby wants you to stay in the white room and be a virgin for another couple of nights.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Mandy replied sitting up on her elbows.\n\n\"I'll give you further instruction over the weekend.\" Sam turned and left the room.\n\n\"I can't wait.\" Mandy sighed under her breath.\n\n\"How was your day?\" Jo said as Mandy slithered up to the bar just after six. She had showered again and done her make up before changing the bed sheets and making her way down. There was a tray of sandwiches on the bar which Mandy dived into.\n\n\"I'm famished.\"\n\n\"Go girl.\" Jo smiled sipping an orange drink. Ruby was behind her. She was already drunk and talking to a fat Texan with a beer belly and bald head.\n\n\"Max was waiting outside when I went for a walk.\" Mandy said munching through a quarter of a cheese and tomato sandwich.\n\n\"You'll get used to that.\" Jo sniffed. \"Hero worship, some of these punters just don't know\n\nwhen to stop.\"\n\n\"Then, this afternoon, I had dirty, perverted sex with someone.\"\n\n\"Really...\" Jo giggled. \"...You do get around, who was that with?\"\n\n\"Later.\" Mandy smiled.\n\n\"That's what I like about you girl.\" Jo laughed. \"You can be so green and, Jesus, dumb with it, but then you're as savvy as any one of us. I guess we're all perverted in the eyes of somebody.\"\n\nJo looked at Mandy's face and her eyebrows pinched slightly. \"You look tired, maybe it's that lipstick.\"\n\n\"I thought deep red suited me.\" Mandy replied taking another sandwich and tucking into it.\n\n\"No girl...\" Jo smiled. \"...We women of colour need to be a little adventurous. I wear gold a lot, or blue, that looks so cool on a dark skin. Come to my room one day and I'll show you; my friend in Europe sends me stuff you just can't get here. You know, make up just for beautiful black women.\"\n\nMandy saw Sam approach across the bar looking stern as usual. She stood nearby as if listening for a moment and Mandy looked at her coyly before saying.\n\n\"Could I have a gin please?\"\n\n\"See...\" Jo giggled. \"...You were a teetotal virgin last night and tonight you're a lush.\"\n\nBoth women burst into laughter as Sam pushed a glass across the bar. Ruby looked over her shoulder and grabbed the arm of the fat Texan she had been talking to.\n\n\"This is my new Girl,\" she said pushing herself between Jo and Mandy. \"She's untouched by any man.\"\n\n\"Really?\" The Texan sniffed looking at Mandy's breasts. \"So I get to break in a black mare tonight?\"\n\n\"She might be a bucking bronco for all you know.\" Ruby laughed.\n\n\"That'll do for me honey.\" He laughed showing a set of ivory dentures. Jo sneered and raised her eyebrows before turning and leaving them to it.\n\n\"Now then.\" Ruby smiled facing Mandy. \"Why don't you take Mr Smith to your room and let him get a ride?\"\n\nMandy smiled as best she could and led the man up to her room. He giggled all the way and rubbed his fat crotch with a sick grin; as she closed the door behind them he slapped her backside hard.\n\n\"I never tasted no nigger juice before.\" Smith drooled unbuckling his belt.\n\n\"Well then.\" Mandy smirked sarcastically. \"You got a treat in store for you, haven't you cowboy. Just wash your fat dick in that sink over there and I might just let you stick it in me.\"\n\nHe missed the sarcasm and he did as he was told dropping his Y.fronts to his ankles. She looked at his sagging butt and gagged. Mandy lifted up her skirt and revealed her black pubic hair and reclined on the bed as he turned. She didn't want to look at him because she was sure it would make the act even more hideous so she looked at the ceiling and hoped it would be over soon.\n\nSmith waddled towards her and she could smell the stench of stale tobacco mixed with sweat coming from his clothing as his breathless body touched hers.\n\n\"Is it in there yet?\" Smith asked as he pushed his fat gut on her reclining body.\n\n\"Yes, stud.\" She lied. \"That fat dick is deep inside my tight cunt.\"\n\nShe thought he might come more quickly if she gave him something to think about, she could feel the tip of his dick in the crease between her thigh and her pubic bone as he tried to get a little friction going. She spat on her fingers and placed her hand between her legs to stimulate him a little. It didn't take much, soon a gush of sticky come filled her fist and he fell forwards like he was having a cardiac arrest.\n\n\"Oh,\" she lied. \"Look at that blood from my pussy, you broke me in good.\"\n\nHe tried to look but she had already wiped her fingers with a tissue. Smith stood up and she\n\nglanced at his groin for a second wishing immediately that she had not.\n\n\"Ain't that funny?\" Smith smiled after pulling his trousers up. \"Your pussy's just like a white woman's, but dark like.\"\n\n\"Well whoopee.\" She sneered. \"Guess I can't be one hundred per cent nigger, perhaps those big white dicks are turning my race. What do you think cowboy?\"\n\n\"Yha,\" he laughed. \"Not with those eyes; I never seen a Negro with green eyes before.\"\n\n\"Well cowboy.\" She smiled standing and tossing the tissue in the bin.\n\n\"You should get out more, honey child.\"\n\nHe reached into his wallet and withdrew a ten dollar note and offering it to her. She laughed and pushed his hand away; after all, he had been there before and may have been testing her.\n\n\"You pay Ruby.\" Mandy said, as if it were a matter of fact. \"Come, put your money away, I'll take you to her.\"\n\n\"That was quick.\" Ruby smiled as the two entered the bar. \"I hope my little virgin looked after you Mr Smith.\"\n\n\"Fantastic.\" He huffed. \"Best fuck I've ever had.\"\n\n\"It's probably the only one he's had in years.\" Jo whispered to Mandy as she joined her at the bar. Mandy looked but could not see Sam, the drinks were being served by Liz who busied herself behind the bar.\n\n\"Where's Sam?\" Mandy asked casually looking about the room.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Jo replied. \"Perhaps she's with Carter or someone.\"\n\n\"Oh Jimmy.\" Jayne cried from across the room. They all turned to see a little old man presenting her with a small blue box. Jayne opened it and a glittering gold bracelet sparkled in the light of the bar. \"It's beautiful.\"\n\n\"Perks of the job.\" Jo whispered as the old man wrapped the bracelet around Jayne's wrist and did up the clasp.\n\n\"It must have cost a fortune.\" Jayne whined making sure everyone else in the room could hear.\n\n\"Anything for my baby.\" The old man smiled.\n\n\"Anything for my baby...\" Jo mimicked. \"...I must be sucking dick badly or something.\"\n\n\"Why do you say that?\" Mandy laughed.\n\n\"Well, no one ever bought me a gold band. Perhaps...\" she mused sipping from her glass.\n\n\"I should start using my teeth more often, you know, draw a little blood now and then.\"\n\nRuby stepped up to the women with a young man on her arm. He was aged about 19 and had a clear complexion.\n\n\"This is a friend of mine.\" She smiled drunkenly. \"His name is Joe and this is his nineteenth\n\nbirthday.\"\n\n\"Happy birthday, Joe.\" Both girls smiled.\n\n\"This young lady is Josephine...\" Ruby slurred nodding at Jo drunkenly.\n\n\"...and this is Mandy, the newest girl in the house; still a virgin; untouched by human hand.\"\n\n\"Really.\" Joe said believing every word. Mandy looked at him and tried to look coy and his eyes darted between hers and her chest.\n\n\"Which one of these ladies would you like to take care of you?\" Ruby asked the boy.\n\nHe did not need to be asked twice stepping towards Mandy and taking her by the arm. Jo winced behind his back and stepped aside allowing the boy to take her place.\n\n\"Now, young lady...\" Ruby whispered in Mandy's ear. \"...This boy's a friend of the family, so to speak, you take him to your room and get him educated in the ways of the world.\"\n\nMandy giggled and looked up at the boy. She could see that he probably didn't shave yet and he had that awkward look of a youth who'd grown taller than his bones could deal with. She tugged his shirt and pulled him towards the door.\n\n\"Come on Joe-Boy, let's go.\" She smiled leading him to the door.\n\nThey were soon in the white room and she sat him on the bed, he looked shy and slightly nervous. \"How would you like to do this Joe?\" Mandy asked softly. She didn't want to take things too fast and wanted the boy to remember his first time with a smile on his face.\n\n\"I don't know.\" He replied after a while. \"What do you think?\"\n\n\"How about if we get down to out underwear...\" She smiled. \"...Then we can take it from there.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Joe replied.\n\nHe stood and started to undo his shirt. She looked up from the bed as he stripped it off and hung it on the back of a chair. His body was thin and wiry, white and clear of and mark or hair. She saw only a small tuff of gentle down under his armpit as he took his vest off and placed that on the chair with his shirt.\n\nMandy pulled down her dress straps and let it fall to the floor leaving her in her silky bra and\n\npanties. He glanced at her and bit his lower lip as he pulled at the belt around his pants and popped the buttons of his fly. He kicked off his boots and his trousers fell to his ankles exposing a baggy pair of shorts above a pair of long, thin legs. Only his thighs had any muscle so to speak and she saw a thin covering of soft down over them.\n\n\"Come here.\" She whispered. He stepped towards her and she took one of his soft white hands and placed it on her breast, \"Do you like that Joe?\"\n\n\"Yha, it's nice.\" He stuttered flicking a finger under her bra and swiping its tip across her erect nipple.\n\nMandy reached up and stroked his tummy softly, her fingers swept lower and brushed the top of his shorts before sweeping the fingers down to his thighs and the inside of his legs; just stopping below where the shorts began.\n\nHe swallowed hard as she ran her fingers up again only this time sweeping the tips of her fingers under his shorts and stroking his balls, the soft bristle that covered them became electric to her touch, the boy quivered and shook catching his breath.\n\nShe could see a gradual lump forming under there and her fingers went to work. That long thin lump pressed against the inside of his shorts like a lion wanting to escape. She leant forwards and licked it gently with her tongue. She looked up at his face and thought about the women in the church she used to go to every Sunday, with her mother. They had probably never been this close or intimate with a white boy in their entire lives; this made her smile.\n\n\"Stop!\" Joe whispered trying to catch his breath. He reached out and ran his long fingers through her hair, slipping them under her ear lobe and along the side of her neck.\n\n\"Stop please, or I'll come.\"\n\n\"That's okay.\" Mandy replied. She slipped off her bra and pushed her panties down to her feet, laying back on the bed while she looked up at him intently.\n\n\"Fuck me Joe.\" She murmured pulling him down onto her. \"Fuck me like you have always dreamed. Fuck me like you have fantasised; go on Joe, fuck me like your life depended upon it.\"\n\nHe allowed his thighs to push her legs apart and pushed his shorts to his knees as his cock pushed into her. It was a little dry and so he had to thrust with his hips to get the length taken in but then she groaned and a spasm released a pool of slippery juice from deep inside. His cock then started to slip with ease in and out and in again.\n\nHe rested his elbows on either side of her head and she clutched his buttocks to help. Their gaze met half way between heaven and ecstasy momentarily and Mandy pushed her chin forwards so their lips brushed barely. Joe's tongue swept across the top of her lower lip, savouring it as his cock burst within her.\n\nFalling down so that his entire weight was upon her chest Mandy could feel the hard throb intensely between her legs. The steady pulse of hard tissue pounding deep inside her body was a sensation she had grown to enjoy.\n\nShe thrust into him, pushing her labia apart and her forcing clitoris into his pubic mound like a beast being fed meat for the first time. His breath was in her ear and running her finger along his buttock she could felt a bead of sweat roll down across the back of his scrotum.\n\n\"Did I hurt you?\" Joe asked after a small, breathless pause.\n\nHis cock was going soft inside her and although it was still pulsing the throbs were weaker now and subsiding like the ebbing tide or a sudden shower on a autumn day.\n\n\"No Joe.\" Mandy replied. \"It was fantastic, You were fantastic.\"\n\n\"It's only...\" he said softly taking his weight back up by manoeuvring his arms a little. Their eyes met and as she smiled he did also.\n\n\"Only what?\" she asked with a coy look.\n\n\"Well...\" he said. Then he pulled his cock from her pussy and looked around for a towel. She reached behind her and grabbed the towel she kept under the spare pillow.\n\n\"...You being a virgin, and all.\"\n\n\"Oh that?\" she laughed almost forgetting that long tale. She must have been the most screwed virgin in all L.A, she mused to herself. He threw Mandy a casual look before wiping his dick carefully with the towel. There was a hard lump of come sitting on the end of it which Joe picked at\n\nwith his fingernail and examined with interest.\n\nHe pulled a frown and flicked it across the room like it was something he'd salvaged from his nose. He pulled an expectant frown and smiled at her.\n\n\"No, it was fine.\" She giggled. Mandy took the towel and wiped between her legs briefly before slipping her bra back into place and pulling up her dress.\n\n\"Shouldn't there be blood, or something?\" Joe asked as he pulled on his pants, proceeding to get dressed.\n\n\"There's not always blood apparently...\" Mandy lied hoping he'd not ask too many questions.\n\n\"...So I have been led to believe.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" He replied softly. Joe shrugged and looked for his boots, very soon they were both dressed and Mandy checked her hair in the mirror and pulled her fringe across her eyes in a style that she thought suited her. Then she pecked the boy gently on his cheek before leading him back to the bar.\n\n\"Here's my man!\" Ruby slurred loudly as they both entered the room. She was now very drunk and Mandy recognised this at once. It was the way in which Ruby's eyes flickered from the effects which made it so obvious. They made her appear sleepy and dour although she never seemed to lose her sharp wit no matter how intoxicated she became.\n\n\"Did the girl look after you?\" Ruby beamed passing a drink to Joe as he came to the bar.\n\n\"Thank you.\" Joe said simply, slightly embarrassed by the attention. Ruby had a habit of talking loudly especially when drunk and it made everyone in the room look in their direction.\n\n\"She was great.\" The boy replied churlishly.\n\nHe cast Mandy a casual smile but her attention was elsewhere. She had seen Sam behind the bar and just as she was about to speak to her a familiar voice whispered in her ear.\n\n\"Lady Mandrake.\" Carter cooed stepping towards her. His eyes were alight with the fire of desire and Mandy could sense his intentions before he actually said anything further.\n\n\"Come, let me lick you.\"\n\nHe pushed his mouth towards hers and as their lips met she felt his tongue slip onto hers. A small pill was deposited at the back of her throat and as he withdrew, Carter winked with a beady smile.\n\n\"Swallow lady, swallow.\" Carter smiled passing her a glass. Mandy bit into the pill and a flush of bitter chemicals flooded over her taste buds.\n\n\"What was that?\" She asked gulping back the contents of the glass. Sam was already pushing\n\nanother glass across the bar towards them both. Mandy glanced at her and noticed a small cut under Sam's left eye.\n\n\"Brandy, dear lady.\" Carter hissed. He kissed the back of his fingers and exhaled a cloud of sweetly smelling smoke.\n\n\"Take this!\" he said passing Mandy an expertly rolled joint of grass. Sam raised an eyebrow and stepped back from the bar giving Mandy no opportunity to ask about the injury. Instead she took a deep draw on the end of the joint before looking around for someone to pass it on towards.\n\nThe bar was full now, there were several people standing on either side talking and\n\nlistening to the loud music. Jo shimmered in the light of a flashing spot which cast a blue, red and green haze across the heads of the assembled people. Then reaching out she took the joint from Mandy and stepped back into the crowd nodding her head in time with the beat.\n\n\"My Lady Mandrake...\" Carter drooled slipping up close to Mandy. She could smell the aroma of his cologne on his clothes and in the half-light she noticed his eyes were lined with kohl.\n\nThis did not make him look effeminate or even better looking, it made him look more sinister. Contrasting with his deathly pallor the darkness of his eyes gave him an alien appearance; like one of the undead.\n\n\"...Don't you just love this time of the evening?\" Carter asked. Mandy did not reply being captivated by the apparition before her.\n\n\"...The darkness is so full of mystery and anticipation, don't you think. I only come alive when the sun goes down; how about you?\"\n\n\"What was it?\" She managed to say again referring to the pill he had slipped into her mouth. She guessed it might have been another mandrax, or qualude as they were known on the street; but was unsure. She was finding out that anything was possible with Carter.\n\n\"Just a gift dear lady...\" He hissed sucking on the drink Sam had given him. \"...a gift of mystery, that has filled you with anticipation. I just love anticipation, don't you?\" He lingered on the word, playing with it on his tongue as if to act out its meaning.\n\n\"...Anticipation, isn't it exciting. Not knowing what may lay ahead and having only your imagination to prepare yourself. You do have imagination don't you, Lady, my Lady Mandrax.\"\n\n\"I like to know what goes into my body.\" She replied at last. \"Drugs can be funny if you've\n\nnever taken them before; some people get a reaction.\"\n\n\"Lucky them!\" Carter laughed and leant forwards as if to take her into his confidence. \"Between you and me, some people would be better off if they stopped using the juice and popped a few pills occasionally.\"\n\nHe nodded towards Ruby who was deep in conversation with an elderly man at the end of the bar. She was very intoxicated and slouched from her stool towards the ashtray with a bent cigarette between her fingers. She noticed them looking at her and smiled drunkenly.\n\n\"Take no notice of that man, dear.\" Ruby shouted to Mandy across the crowded bar.\n\n\"It wasn't a donkey, it was a donkey sized vibrator.\"\n\n\"Oh, was it now...\" Carter laughed sycophantically, ho, ho ho-ing ike a bad Santa impersonation. \"Just humour the old cow...\" He said under his breath. \"...That's right, silly old bean, we got you.\"\n\nHe gave Ruby a small wave and she reciprocated.\n\n\"Look at the state of her, dozy old mare.\"\n\n\"You are awful.\" Mandy giggled. \"That woman has really helped me since I arrived in town; I don't like to make fun of her.\"\n\n\"I'm only kidding you.\" Carter sighed with a broad toothy smile. \"Truthfully, she'd help anyone provided they're making her money. That vat of kindness would dry up in an instant if she couldn't sell your ass easily; anyway, she brought up the donkey not me. Oh and talking of old nags...\"\n\nHe glanced over Mandy's shoulder and she turned to see Velta entering the room being followed by a sweaty looking man. He was huge and had a belly that hung below his shirt tails and ruffled the top of his pants.\n\n\"Thanks honey.\" The man wheezed giving Velta a cheesy smile. \"You got the goods alright.\"\n\n\"I'm glad I could help.\" She replied superficially. Mandy saw her look about the bar for an excuse to dump the fat man and then Mandy noticed Joe trying to get her attention. When their eyes met he smiled and walked towards her and Carter.\n\n\"Are you busy?\" Joe asked looking firstly at her and then towards Carter.\n\n\"I am right now.\" She replied gently. \"Come back tomorrow; we can see each other again then.\"\n\n\"Okay Sonny Jim.\" Carter smiled. \"You've had your fun for the evening, now the shop's closed and the little man has gone home.\"\n\n\"What?\" Joe said looking bewildered.\n\n\"The door's closed, the gate's locked and the lights are out.\" Carter announced with a sardonic smile.\n\n\"Now be a good chap and toddle off. Go find another little dolly to play with, unless...\"\n\n\"Unless what?\" Joe asked innocently. He tried to smile at Mandy but found Carter drawing his attention.\n\n\"Why..\" Carter replied. \"...unless you fancy playing find the sausage with me sweetie?\"\n\n\"Find the...\" Joe sputtered.\n\n\"Just come tomorrow honey.\" Mandy said with a cool smile. \"I promise I'll give you my full attention then. I promise, okay?\"\n\n\"Okay.\" He said like a small child. Joe turned and walked towards Ruby, no doubt to arrange his reservation for the following evening. He glanced back once to throw a confused look at Carter.\n\n\"Why, you are popular...\" Carter drooled. He watched the boy go and screwed up his nose. \"...I bet he has a divine asshole; just look at that butt wobbling away.\"\n\nMandy smiled and blinked. There was something going on behind her eyes that caught her off her guard. It was a sensation that crept up like a thief in the night; a small eruption of neurons in her brain that heightened her sense of being. It was the strangest feeling, something mystical and as she thought about it; a further wave hit her senses.\n\n\"Wow.\" She said aloud. \"What was that?\"\n\n\"Here it comes baby...\" Carter beamed, his smile now twinkled in the light and she saw streams of colour fill her vision; rainbows of light filing the room. A faint rattle behind her now echoed slightly with muffled voices and animal sounds.\n\n\"Just go with it.\" He continued as the sensations grew inside her head and filtered down her spinal cord.\n\n\"Let the rush take you with it, don't fight it baby. Enjoy, relax, just don't fight it baby. Slip into the mainstream of imagination, ride that lightening storm honey; feel it in your blood and cruise that highway. You're on that high way, way up high baby and you're getting higher, can you feel it. Can you feel it taking you higher?\"\n\nMandy could feel something. It was something unexpected and yet familiar, strange and yet\n\nunderstood by no-one. The disassociation wrapped her up in a cocoon of warm intimacy. No one else mattered, at that precise moment in time the universe and everything in it existed for her sake only. She was a shining star about which galaxies orbit.\n\nThe centre of everything, she was permeating the cosmos like a tolling bell and it felt great, riding a slip stream of emotions. Mandy opened her eyes again and the room whirled into focus, all chattering voices and animal creatures. The music provided a backdrop of echoing bleeps and pulses which competed with the smell of mutated human bodies.\n\nThe only thing that seemed familiar or recognisable in the chaos was Carter's face. His hair had taken on a life of its own and was dancing to the music on his head. She sighed really loudly and shook her hair, it felt good and she saw stars falling from the tips to descend about them.\n\n\"Back with us again are we dear?\" Carter smiled a row of flashing white teeth. His tongue darted about his lips like a viper, a serpent smile across his sallow face .\n\nShe tried to form words but their meaning became lost in her mouth. It was a dry, parched mouth that felt like a desert road. He recognised that she needed to drink and passed her his glass.\n\nMandy looked at it intently, watching the liquid sparkle inside; glisten with moisture. Her mouth wanted so much to taste that moisture and yet the motion was forgotten. He laughed and helped her lifting the glass to her lips and tipped the liquid inside.\n\n\"That's it honey, let Daddy sock it to you.\"\n\nThe last time she had looked at the clock on the wall it had said seven thirty and yet looking at it now it read a quarter past midnight. Mandy didn't understand where the time had gone but as her senses came back she was aware that it had slipped by in a flicker of her eyelids.\n\n\"Is that the time?\" she said softly. \"Wow, where have I been for the past couple of hours?\"\n\n\"You've been on Planet Mandra, Lady Mandrake.\" Carter replied squeezing her neck sensitively. The feeling of his fingers against her bare skin made Mandy shiver with passion. It run down her back and into her pussy, when she clenched her pelvic muscles she could almost feel his touch there, inside her.\n\n\"Get it?\" he said flashing that smile again. \"Manda, M.D.A, Maaaaan-DA! That stuff takes you places only Ruby's donkey vibrator could reach. I can see you're back in the land of the living again although I thought I had lost you for good; a while ago.\"\n\n\"Why's that?\" she replied looking about the bar. Liz was busy collecting glasses and Ruby was still chatting to the same man at the bar; oh, but was it the same man, she was not sure. Velta was nowhere to be seen and neither was Jayne or Carol. She was sure they had been there a moment ago. Sam was looking at her.\n\nMandy looked away from that stare; it was too intense and it penetrated into her brain making\n\nMandy feel instantly guilty for some reason. She remembered that, as a child, the old master could do that to her.\n\nNo matter what the situation, whatever she had been doing just one look from that man put her straight into a state of guilt riddled anxiety. That was just how she felt then, with Sam's gaze baring into her head like a laser beam.\n\n\"Open wide!\" Carter said breaking into Mandy's thoughts.\n\nShe opened her mouth slightly and felt the touch of his soft fingers brush against her lips. Then her mouth filled with an acrid chemical taste which burned nicely upon the sour sensors of her tongue.\n\n\"A mandrake for Lady Mandrax.\" Carter hissed. \"That will put the lid on your coffin.\"\n\n\"What? I don't know if I like the sound of that\" she smiled gulping back the pill.\n\n\"Just a metaphor. \" Carter replied taking her hand and leading her across the room to a space where they could dance. There was a track that had a thumping tango-like beat and he led her through a dance which caught each bump and thump of the bass and each kick and snap of the drum.\n\n\"A what?\" she laughed.\n\n\"It's like a meteor with words...\" He giggled spinning her, this way and that. \"...Or is it an analogy,\"\n\nHe smiled turning her upon an axis.\n\n\"...or perhaps an allegory, if we are children of the night, we need to emerge from our coffin-like daytime existence to sing with the wolves. Instead of a nail I should have said crowbar.\"\n\n\"You should?\" she replied now getting very confused. \"Now I'm lost totally.\"\n\n\"Good.\" He hissed leaning her back and running his tongue along the tip of her shoulder.\n\n\"I am going to use a crowbar to smash into the casket and release you from the chains of bondage.\"\n\n\"You are?\"\n\n\"Only to tie you up with the ropes, the ropes of freedom; would you like that?\"\n\n\"I would.\" She sighed as the sense of disassociation crept into her spine and up her\n\nBack again. The room began to spin and they stopped still in the moment; frozen like ice statues in an arctic landscape.\n\n\"Come with me.\" He said suddenly as the room, the sounds, the colours and the people all suddenly came to life and filled her head with sensation. She stumbled forwards and saw Ruby, Sam and Liz staring at them both intensely.\n\n\"Excuse us, Ladies.\" Carter suddenly announced leading Mandy towards the door. She tried to say something but only her jaw worked, her tongue was useless and she could just about stop it hanging from her mouth limply.\n\n\"We have work to do.\"\n\nThe three women watched as he led Mandy towards the door; the music faded into the background and Mandy could swear she heard the sound of Sam's breathing echoing on the air behind them. Jo suddenly appeared from a shadow and leant forwards to whisper in Mandy's ear.\n\n\"Be careful.\" She said softly as he dragged her outside the bar.\n\n\"He's got her in his clutches, got her good and proper...\" Roma said in her Eastern European accent as she slipped up to the bar beside Jo.\n\n\"...He's giving her those drugs and soon she will be totally addicted to him, like Jayne; that's a dangerous place to be. Someone should tell her what he did to Lorri before it's too late.\"\n\n\"Shut, the fuck up...\" Sam shouted from behind the bar. She stepped up to Roma and pressed her face into Roma's nose.\n\n\"...you bitches don't know anything and just gossip for the sake of hearing your own voices. Now, leave it, I don't want to hear another word.\"\n\nChapter 9\n\nThey stumbled in the half light from the dimmed hall lamps up the stairs towards the black room. Mandy felt her legs go from under her as she was half led and half dragged up each step.\n\nOnce outside he turned towards her and she felt a stinging sensation across her right cheek as the flat of his hand bounced off her face.\n\n\"Say nothing.\" He said sternly. \"From the next step, say nothing.\"\n\nThe door opened and as they entered Carter grabbed a small horse whip that had been hanging from a hook beside the door. He struck it against the side of his leg making a sharp clap that echoed around the room. Carter removed his jacket and shirt revealing a bare chest covered in tattoos. The markings were of birds and dragons and insects and blazoned across the back of his shoulders in three inch high letters was the motto \"Bastard\" written in a Germanic script.\n\nHe stepped toward Mandy, his skin tight jeans fitting snug around the top of his leather biker\n\nboots. There was a leather cap hanging from the arm of a chair which he threw on his head to complete the look. The whip cracked again.\n\nShe was kneeling in front of him. Awash with the chemical taste of mandrax when he carefully placed the horse whip under the strap of her dress and forced it to fall from her shoulder. Her breast became exposed and he knelt forwards and pinched the nipple.\n\n\"Do you like that Bitch?\"\n\nMandy could not reply because the combination of drugs had by now totally overcome her; she was doing all she could to keep her eyes focussed on Carter as he stepped around her viciously cracking the whip against his leg.\n\nHe placed the leather strap from the end of the whip under the other strap of her dress and it too fell down completely exposing her breasts.\n\n\"Take it off.\" He said softly.\n\n\"You want...\" she mumbled but the words caught in her throat as the whip cracked across her face.\n\n\"Shut up, bitch.\" He screamed. \"..You will talk only when instructed to and not before.\"\n\nShe slid the dress from her legs and tossed it to one side.\n\n\"And the panties.\" He said with a sardonic sneer. \"Come on, come on, faster.\"\n\nMandy slipped off her panties and looked up at him feeling totally vulnerable. Her hair was falling into her eyes and her vision was blurred a little but she could make out his vague shape as Carter marched around her.\n\n\"Lay back and open your legs.\"\n\nShe lay back and moved her knees apart. She felt the toe of his boot push her labia apart gently and heard the sounds of his breathing. A rush of sensation travelled up her spin and into her head as his boot tip rubbed against her clitoris.\n\n\"Open your legs wider.\"\n\nShe did as she was told and heard his breathing become more laboured. Mandy looked up at him and saw that he was now furiously rubbing his crutch through his jeans. She could see the hardness of his cock almost bursting out from under the blue fabric and she too felt her juices start flowing.\n\nHe removed his boot and she heard the sound of his belt buckle undoing and then he was eating her madly. She could feel the hard bristle of his unshaven chin rubbing at the soft flesh of her labia. It was rough and hard and it hurt just a little but the softness of his tongue made her want him more.\n\nShe could feel it penetrating her pussy. Pushing deep inside her and probing the flesh while his arm furiously massaged his throbbing cock. Then he pushed his penis deep inside her. Thrusting like she had never felt before, so hard it was pushing into her cervix deep into her womb. Carter bit into her breast and she felt blood drip from the wound. He was panting like a dog and biting all over her, taking small painful nips.\n\n\"That hurts.\" She whimpered as his fist smashed into her face.\n\n\"Shut up, you fucking bitch. You fucking cunt, bitch, slag, slut, you fucking dog, whore; Bitch, Fucking Bitch Whore.\" She felt his come shoot inside her like a warm burst from a pistol. The ejaculation throbbed again and again as he panted and bit and pinched.\n\n\"Bitch, whore. You fucking slut. You fucking bitch, you fucking, skank-whore.\" He was mumbling the abuse over and over again like a madman, the sound of those terrible words ceased to have any meaning to her and were almost like a prayer to some perverse like god.\n\nHe was now laying across her battered body limply. Carter lifted his head up and adjusted his weight with his arms. Then he lifted himself up and stood pulling his pants up and did up his belt.\n\n\"Get dressed.\" He spat\n\nHe turned, placed the leather cap on the chair arm where it had lain previously and pulled his shirt over his shoulders. Then without another word he left the room. Her pupils were distorted and in her field of vision Mandy saw fairy lights flickering. Laying on that stone, cold floor her mind began to wander.\n\nLike the crumpled panties at her side and the dress strewn across the flagstones faded memories were crumpled and discarded in her mind. The old white house that she and mom shared with the old, white master came back to her. It had dry rot and weeds, cobwebs and dust; there was always somewhere that needed attention but he was too old and broke to notice. He just sat in that old armchair in a threadbare cotton shirt drinking malt whiskey or bud all day.\n\nThere was Jed, of course, the unshaven and worn out handy man who wasn't handy any longer. He walked about with a hammer in his belt and a screw-driver in his hand but hadn't screwed any screws or hammered any nails for a long time.\n\nThey made him appear busy, like he had a purpose in his pitiful life; but her momma knew the truth. Old Jed just ate the food, kept himself warm in winter and cool in the summer. He helped himself to the old master's whiskey and gin and every now and then would chop some wood. Just enough to make it look like he was earning his keep. Only her mother worked in that house.\n\nHer mother scrubbed floors, windows and work tops. She cooked and cleaned and washed and ironed and did all the jobs the two old men needed if they were going to get by. They never said thank you, never asked if she was okay, never even smiled when she presented those meals she cooked for them. They didn't even look at her; but they both looked at her daughter.\n\nMandy recalled how Jed's eyes would follow her across the room when she'd come in from school. She saw that old, un-shaved chin quiver and that dry old tongue dart between those cracked lips.\n\nShe remembered asking innocently if Jed could help her paint a picture for her Momma and he lifted her up and placed her on his lap. The smell of tobacco and sweat hit her tender little nose as he touched her little hand and held a pencil in it for her.\n\nShe could feel his hard cock pressing into her butt as his hand pushed the pencil across the paper. He was moving gently this way and that and his breathing was long and laboured. She couldn't wait for her Momma to return so that she could get off his lap and go to her. It was an experience she never wanted to have again even if that little picture became her momma's favourite treasure.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Mandy looked towards the door and saw Sam entering the room. She closed it softly behind her and walked to where Mandy was sprawled.\n\n\"I didn't want you to go with him alone tonight.\" Sam added with a wry frown. \"He can get carried away sometimes.\"\n\n\"I'm okay.\" Mandy replied sitting up and reaching out for her panties. She pulled them on and looked for her dress.\n\n\"Did he do that?\" Sam asked touching Mandy's cheek.\n\nThere was a red mark that looked swollen. \"You had better put some ice on it otherwise it may bruise.\"\n\n\"Is it that bad?\" Mandy said pulling her dress over her shoulder. \"I'm so high, I didn't feel a thing.\"\n\n\"Those pills he hands out are dangerous.\" Sam said abruptly. She helped Mandy up and placed her fingers under her chin to examine the wound more closely.\n\n\"He really has done a number on you girl.\" She said softly, almost tenderly if you ignored her natural hardness.\n\n\"It matches yours. Did he do that to you?\" Mandy asked with a vague smile. Sam looked at her and resumed her normal attitude. Putting her shoulders back her defensiveness went up like a shield.\n\n\"I fell against that thing.\" She said nodding towards the rack. The handle that controlled the\n\nratchet was stuck into the air and Mandy could see how it would bruise if you fell against it.\n\n\"Ruby wants you to go to your room and relax for the rest of the night.\" Sam said as she stood and looked over the room. \"Don't ever come here again with him alone, understood, not till I think you're ready.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Mandy replied. She was glad that she didn't have to go back downstairs again even though she could still hear the dull thud of music coming from the bar.\n\n\"Max called.\" Sam added.\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"He's booked you for tomorrow at six.\"\n\nMandy bit her lip and walked to the door.\n\n\"I'd better get some sleep then.\" She said opening up the door and left. The hallway was cool and airy compared to the dark and dank room she had been in. She sucked in a lungful of the refreshing night air and made her way unsteadily to her room.\n\nThe following evening, at six pm, the red lights burned dimly in the bar room. Transparent wafts of cigar smoke drifted through the air like ghostly apparitions. The thick smell lingered uneasily with the smell of roses set in a vase on the bar.\n\nCarol sat on a stool by the bar sipping orange juice while she talked to a fat, balding New Yorker who was puffing on a cigar. He wiped the sweat from the back of his thick neck and tugged at his shirt collar with his free stubby hand waving a fifty dollar bill with the other.\n\n\"Hay...\" He cried across the bar towards a harassed looking Liz. \"...give me a rum and black and a vodka and orange for the lady.\"\n\n\"Hang on mister.\" Liz shouted from the other end of the bar. \"Can't you see I'm busy down here?\"\n\nShe prepared his a rum and black-current and poured orange juice for Carol placing the money for the vodka in her tips jar. Jayne sat across one of the sofas balancing her head on the arm of a tall Italian while the dirty fingers of his hand groped at her breast through her pale dress.\n\n\"Hmm baby.\" She whispered with a slur. \"Let's go and fuck upstairs.\"\n\n\"In a moment.\" He replied enjoying the sensation of her nipple while the others in the bar ignored them.\n\n\"I want to finish my drink, after all it cost me five dollars.\"\n\nVelta strolled across the room in the arm of a young sailor boy. Waving a bottle of rum in the air and trying to prevent the boy from falling was all she could do as they flopped into a chair. The sailor groped at her crutch and belched loudly before collapsing in a fit of giggles.\n\nRuby, sitting at the bar beside a smartly dressed gentleman raised her eyebrows and sneered.\n\n\"I can't stand it when they can't hold their liquor.\" She announced to no one in particular.\n\nShe then continued her discussion with the man in soft whispers about how she looked when she was younger; tender and untouched. How she was the toast of this city in her twentieth year. It was so long ago, she mused, back then, anything was possible. The grey haired man nodded politely and looked around the room for a girl to take upstairs.\n\nSam stood nearby watching everything, her dark eyes darting here and there, never missing anything. Mandy sat nearby sipping lemonade and trying to control the butterflies in her stomach.\n\n\"Hello!\" said a loud voice as the clock struck 6.15.\n\nShe looked up and saw Max standing beside her dressed in a smart blue suit, a crisp white shirt with a matching blue tie. His smile melted into a frown when she turned to face him.\n\n\"What happened to you?\" he asked looking at the bruise on her cheek. His eyebrows pinched together and he gazed at her suspiciously.\n\n\"I fell.\" Mandy replied simply. She looked away and at Liz behind the bar.\n\n\"You don't look very pleased to see me.\" Max said defensively. \"I have money so I guess it don't matter if you don't want to see me; as long as I pay.\"\n\n\"Is that what you think?\" She replied giving him a sharp look before turning away again. Max grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him again.\n\n\"Hay sweetheart,\" he snapped. \"I'm talking to you.\"\n\nMandy looked away and saw Sam approaching. \"I don't know what's wrong with you tonight.\" He said defiantly as Sam stood behind him. She tapped him on the shoulder and said.\n\n\"Choose another girl.\" Sam then stood between them both. \"This one's taken for tonight.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Max said loudly. \"Already taken, I called yesterday.\"\n\n\"I mean.\" Sam said firmly pushing her face close to his.\n\n\"She's already taken, choose someone else.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\" Max whined. \"I got money, isn't my money any good round here?\"\n\n\"Not with her, not tonight.\" Sam said softly. \"Go and choose another girl; Jo is free, I'll get her.\"\n\n\"I don't want Jo, Fuck Jo. I want this girl.\"\n\n\"Tough.\" Sam said abruptly.\n\nMax fumbled inside his pocket and withdrew a wad of notes.\n\n\"How much did she say when I booked her?,\" He started to raise his voice making all the others looks at them.\n\n\"Fifty, sixty, well; how much?\"\n\n\"If you want this girl,\" Sam replied with a cool, relaxed and ultimately menacing tone.\n\n\"You will have to calm down; and come back tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\" he snapped thrusting the notes into his jacket again. \"Fuck you and fuck her; I don't need this shit.\" He turned and walked from the room slamming the door behind him.\n\n\"Thanks.\" Mandy said softly.\n\n\"Don't thank me.\" Sam replied still concentrating on the door. \"Go to the black room and put on the uniform I've arranged by the box. It should fit. I have someone we should both deal with coming in a while.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She replied. Mandy didn't bother to ask anything else she just did as she was told.\n\nUpon entering the black room and walking to the box she was surprised to find a black latex jump suit folded on its top. There was a pair of long black rubber gloves that went with it and a pair of impossibly high heels. The heels were so stacked she was almost standing on the tips of her toes when she tried them on.\n\nThe jump suit fitted like a glove and she enjoyed doing the small silver buckles up that closed the collar around her neck. There were smaller buckles down the outside of each leg which pulled straps that were attached to the inside of the leg seam.\n\nEach buckle pulled the leg tighter in increments down to the smallest buckle at the ankle.\n\nShe looked at herself in the mirror and decided that her hair would look better pulled away from her face. Using a couple of pins she tied it into a tight bun at the back of her head and then squeezed into the high shoes. Just then the door opened.\n\n\"Good.\" Sam said walking into the room with a small black bag in her hand. \"Wear this.\" She said passing the bag to Mandy.\n\nMandy opened the bag and withdrew a black leather hood that just had slits of the eyes and pulled down from the back of her neck; coming over her head to stop at the tip of her nose at the front.\n\n\"Wear a bright red lipstick, he likes that.\"\n\n\"Who does?\" Mandy asked pulling the hood over her eyes.\n\n\"The man will answer to the name \"DOG!\" Sam said abruptly. \"His code word is ICE, do you\n\nunderstand?\"\n\n\"I think so, what does he want?\"\n\n\"He wants you to humiliate and abuse him. Start off with some foot worship.\"\n\n\"Foot worship?\"\n\n\"You'll get it...\" Sam continued. \"...Then a little corporal punishment, nothing too strong perhaps some spanking; you know. Then just play with the role a little; you'll enjoy it after last night. I will lead him in and place him on the floor. You must be in character from the moment I leave. He is a very well paying client so I am relying on you not to let me down. No laughter, giggling or talking out of character.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Mandy replied uneasily.\n\n\"I know you can do this.\" Sam said with a tone of reassurance. \"Just take all your frustrations out on him, he won't mind; it's what he wants; imagine he's Max.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" Mandy replied anxiously biting her lip . \"I'm ready.\"\n\nShe pulled on the gloves and teetered over to the array of whips and paddles that hung from the rail in the shadow. Sam left the room and closed the door.\n\n\"Be in character.\" She repeated before leaving the room.\n\nMandy saw a tube of bright red lipstick on the side next to the bag which the hood was in. She applied an extra thick coat to her lips and sucked air through her nose to relax. In the silence of that room, in that moment Mandy discovered a sense of overpowering exhilaration. The anticipation was all consuming as she waited like a black widow spider for her prey to enter. Then the door opened sharply and a fan of light shot across the stone floor.\n\nShe waited in silence feeling and hearing her hot breath come from her nose and rebound on the leather hood. The crack of light filled with the shape of two humans as Sam entered the room dragging a small figure behind her, an elderly gentleman with a baldhead and blindfold. He was stripped naked except for a pair of see through plastic shorts.\n\n\"Kneel here.\" Sam shouted. \"Madame will join you shortly.\"\n\n\"Thank you mistress.\" The man snivelled.\n\nAfter the door closed Mandy stood in the shadows looking at the man for a moment. He looked scared and insignificant as he knelt in silence in the centre of the room. She leaned forwards and the rubber suit she was wearing squeaked gently in the shadows.\n\n\"Mistress, is that you?\" he said meekly.\n\nMandy stepped from the shadows as firmly as she could balancing on her tip-toes. The man looked up at her approaching and his nose tweaked as he listened to her breathing.\n\n\"Shut up!\" she snapped. \"Speak when I tell you too.\"\n\n\"Yes mistress.\" He grovelled. \"anything you say mistress.\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\" He said abruptly.\n\nShe reached down and removed his blindfold and the man placed a pair of thick spectacles on to better see his tormentor. Mandy placed her foot by his crutch and took her time to apply more lipstick. He seemed to enjoy watching her do this so she put much more on then would usually be necessary.\n\n\"Tell me?\" Mandy hissed \"What are you bothering me for?\n\n\"S.\" He quivered through trembling lips. His eyes stared, through the thick panes of glass of his spectacles at the goddess before him. In the semi-darkened room the man knelt, a thin film of greasy sweat over his bare torso.\n\nThe hood Mandy wore, being tied with tight laces behind her head felt hot and uncomfortable so she wondered how long this had to continue. Looking down at her prey, she thought It was if he were in prayer waiting for the benediction of the leather studded Madonna.\n\n\"S, What?\" she demanded as her bright-red lipstick glistening in the faint light; below a set of eyes which pierced through the leather mask. Her rubberised chest panted and a delicate hand, wearing tight, black rubber gloves, fondled a short riding crop tipped with a thin strip of braided black leather.\n\n\"S and M.\" He replied furtively. Her fingers flicked and the crop left another red stripe across the man's back causing a groan to echo about them.\n\n\"S and M, What?\" she demanded once more. Her question punctuated by the crack of crop against his bare skin.\n\n\"S and M, Mistress!\" the man replied breathlessly.\n\nShe paused and gently stroked the crop against the man's trembling shoulders, his head stooped lower, before she drew it slowly around the man's neck.\n\n\"You are a filthy, miserable, disgusting little dog turd.\" She whispered.\n\n\"Yes, Mistress.\"\n\n\"What are you?\" she screamed striking the leather tip against the man's skin leaving another red welt on his back.\n\n\"I am a filthy, miserable, disgusting little dog turd.\" He replied softly. His shocking blue eyes dared peer up to glance furtively at his tormenter. She caught his glare and her eyes blazed back.\n\n\"What are you?\" She screamed.\n\n\"A filthy, miserable, disgusting little dog turd, Mistress.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" She replied softly. The rubber clad woman paused and slowly drew the riding crop against his bare flesh again.\n\n\"You are making my floor dirty and your dirt has made my shoes unclean.\"\n\nHis piercing blue eyes examined her thin legs covered in rubber and then lingered over her black, patient-leather shoes. Laced, from the tip of the toes to the bottom of her delicate calves, very tightly laced she twisted them for his delight.\n\n\"Lick the dirt from the soles of my shoes.\" She hissed as the man's head fell forwards and his tongue swept across his dry lips. He felt the constraint of the handcuffs that locked his hands behind his bare back and pushed his tongue towards the shoe she presented to him.\n\nShe pulled them away and smiled.\n\n\"Clean my shoes with your tongue. The woman hissed through those bright red lips.\n\n\"You disgusting, filthy animal. You dog.\"\n\nThe woman smiled wickedly as she saw his tongue almost brush against the side of her sole which she kept just out of reach, teasing him with it. She violently flicked the crop against his face and the man bit his tongue. This was too much she thought and so she allowed him to gently lick the sole of her shoe, sitting herself down upon the gimp box.\n\nShe had teased him enough and slowly moved her other foot within his reach allowing his nose to smell the scent of the leather and her silk fishnets. She saw the excitement rise within him as he greedily leant towards her.\n\nThe man slowly swept his tongue up and down the black sole of her shoe; leaving a thin film of saliva in its wake. His breathing became laboured and intense, his tongue vibrating just a little as his body filled with lusty hormones.\n\n\"Now the heel!\" She whispered watching intently as his tongue slowly circled the base of her eight inch heels and then swept gradually, intently, confidently down the shaft toward the pin-point tip.\n\n\"Stop.\" She shouted pulling her foot away. The woman cracked the riding crop against the man's back and he lowered his head instantly in obedience.\n\n\"Yes Mistress?\" He asked.\n\n\"Clean my other heel, you dirty dog.\" She whispered presenting the second tightly laced foot for his attention. His tongue furtively touched the tip of her toes and slowly ran down the side of the heel. She heard him groan very gently and felt a little excited by the sound.\n\n\"Clean them.\" She hissed softly. \"Clean my shoes, you filthy dog.\"\n\nMandy snarled towards the man prostrate before her and glanced quickly at her watch. Five more minutes of this, she thought, then she'd have to get back downstairs and see if any other guests had arrived. She looked down again at her punter and tapped him on the head with her riding crop.\n\n\"That's your lot.\"\n\nMandy stood and walked to the door.\n\n\"Oh, Mistress?\" The old man said.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"You were truly wonderful.\" The man said as she opened the door and stepped outside. Sam was on the other side with a small smirk on her face.\n\n\"Praise indeed.\" She said showing that she had been listening to every word between them.\n\n\"I must get these heels off, before I break my ankle. I'll be in my room.\"\n\n\"Good.\" Sam said as she stumbled down the hall. \"Good job.\"\n\nChapter 10\n\nThe following morning Mandy lay in bed in the white room as sunlight began to stream in through the crack in the curtain. She had woken with a dull throb in her left breast and upon inspection noticed that the bite she had got from Carter two nights ago was now a large and ugly bruise.\n\nIt was going to be a hot day and she wondered if she had a top that would cover it and still be\n\ncool. There was a small tap on her door and she sat up in bed covering the breast.\n\n\"Who is it?\"\n\n\"Only me.\" Jo said opening the door and peering in.\n\n\"I've brought the lipsticks I was telling you about, can I come in?\"\n\n\"Please.\" Mandy replied with a smile.\n\nShe reached out and took her dressing gown from bed stand and pulled it over her shoulders as Jo closed the bed room door. She came and sat on the bed.\n\n\"Look at this one; a friend sent it from London.\"\n\n\"Gold.\" Mandy said twisting the bottom of the stick and allowing the lip covering to emerge.\n\n\"Wow, that's really groovy.\"\n\n\"It's Biba...\" Jo replied. \"...that's a really cool shop in London.\"\n\n\"What colour is that one?\"\n\n\"It's freaky man...\" Jo replied opening another stick. \"...I got this down town here in L.A, in a\n\nsmall boutique. It's blue in normal light but glows black in ultra-violet. It's really trippy.\"\n\n\"I guess you know all about that?\"\n\n\"What trips?\" Jo replied wide eyed. \"A friend of mine hangs out with the Grateful Dead in their house, man, they're all into acid there. I went to a couple of parties and hung out but being a black chick can be a drag with all those white dudes.\"\n\n\"You can handle them, I bet.\" Mandy laughed.\n\n\"I've seen you with the white dudes that come here, they're butter in your hands.\"\n\n\"I wish.\" Jo giggled. \"I find most white guys don't know how to talk to black people in this town; they either think you've just come off the cotton plantation or that you're on some civil rights trip. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for civil rights but I don't want to be discussing it when I'm fucking my man. You know what I mean sister?\n\nIt was cool hearing Dr King speaking to all those people in Washington last March. What was it he said. I believe we're all created equal in the eyes of God; yha, that was some speech.\"\n\n\"You got it, although...\" Mandy paused and looked at her friend. \"...someone should tell the folks in the town where I was brought up. Back there if you are black you're treated worse than a dog. I bet they have never even heard of Dr King. Back there even other black people looked down on me and my momma; she was a single parent see, that don't sit well with church people.\"\n\nJo hummed an agreement.\n\n\"You and Samantha are getting along.\" Jo said after a pause.\n\n\"I guess.\" Mandy replied cagily.\n\n\"You're the only person I've seen get close to her in the whole time I been here.\"\n\n\"We have an understanding.\"\n\n\"Come on, spill the beans.\" Jo laughed prodding her friend with a long manicured fingernail.\n\n\"There's nothing to say.\"\n\n\"But you are working in that room upstairs?\"\n\n\"It's just work, and the less I have to fuck the better.\" Mandy said with a cool smile.\n\nSuddenly there was a loud commotion in the hall outside the door and both women looked at each other. Mandy gave a shrug hearing a loud bang and more screaming. Jo stood and went to the door.\n\n\"It's Velta and Jayne, they hate each other.\"\n\n\"Oh, let me listen.\"\n\nMandy got off the bed and crept to the door. Both women opened it a little and peered outside to find Velta and Jayne rolling about on the floor just outside.\n\n\"You fucking bitch.\" Jayne shouted pulling Velta's hair. \"Give it back to me.\"\n\n\"Let me go...\" Velta screamed scratching Jayne's face. \"I haven't got your stupid bracelet.\"\n\nJust at that moment Liz appeared and she also started screaming.\n\n\"I been an told Miss Sammy and she's mad as hell getting her out of bed this early. Now stop your bitching and go to your rooms.\"\n\n\"Give it back!\" Jayne screamed. Velta had her hair between her fingers and both women rolled across the floor forcing Liz to jump out the way.\n\n\"She's going to batter you're asses if you don't stop.\" Liz said trying to split the pair. Velta's\n\nhand pulled a lump of hair from Jayne's head and her fist caught Liz square in the face on the recoil.\n\n\"Ah, shit.\" Liz shouted holding her eye. \"Look what you bitches done now.\"\n\nThen Mandy and Jo heard a rumbling sound that came closer and closer. Eventually Sam appeared dressed in a pink chiffon, barbi-doll nightdress and pink furry slippers. Both women looked at each other and smirked behind the door at the incongruity of the vision in pink.\n\n\"Right, you fucking whores.\" Sam shouted pulling both girls apart by the hair. \"What the fuck is going on here?\"\n\n\"She's taken my bracelet.\" Jayne shouted kicking out at Velta. \"The one Johnny bought for me. She's taken it from my room and I want it back.\"\n\n\"Have you?\" Sam demanded to know pushing her face into Velta's.\n\n\"Why would I touch that cheap trash? Velta shouted as she tried to kick out at Jayne.\n\n\"If I wanted jewels I'd at least make sure they were real.\"\n\n\"They were real.\" Jayne screamed.\n\n\"Enough!\" Sam screamed throwing both girls against opposite sides of the hall. \"Go back to your rooms and I'll deal with you later. Liz, I want this house searched from top to bottom.\"\n\n\"Yes Miss.\" Liz said still holding her eye.\"\n\n\"Haven't you two got anything better to do?\" Sam said towards Jo and Mandy as she spied them peering from the door. They both withdrew into Mandy's room and closed the door before collapsing on the floor in a fit of laughter.\n\n\"Everyone into the lounge!\" Liz called as she made her way through the house a little later in the morning. She was banging on every door as she went.\n\n\"It's not ten am yet.\" Jo said looking at Mandy who had now dressed and was trying on the make-up Jo had brought.\n\n\"It must be about what happened earlier...\" She said as Liz banged on her door again.\n\n\"Can you make your way to the bar.\" Liz shouted through the door. \"Put down what you doing; Miss Ruby wants ya'all.\"\n\nJo and Mandy stepped to the door and opened it in time to see a bruised Velta walk past. Carol followed her and Roma came after her.\n\n\"What is it?\" Roma asked as she walked past the two women.\n\n\"We're not sure.\" Mandy replied.\n\nThe women walked down the stairs and entered the bar. Jayne was already there looking very angry and sporting a large scratch across her face. She looked away as Velta walked into the room.\n\nThe group of women sat in silence for a few moments before hearing a bang and a crash. The door flew open and Sam entered followed by Ruby and Liz. Sam was carrying a large television set while Ruby carried the wires and plug and Liz the aerial.\n\n\"I was going to give you lot a right mouthful.\" Ruby said as Sam placed the T.V on the bar. Ruby looked for a electrical socket and pushed the plug into it. The TV burst into life.\n\n\"But something else has come up.\"\n\nLiz held up the TV aerial and the black and white picture lost its fuzzy lines. Walter Cronkite sat behind a desk solemnly and removed his thick framed eye glasses before addressing the television audience.\n\n\"Friday November 22 1963...\" he said in an even and flat tone which had an element of suppressed emotion.\n\n\"A date that will live on forever; we can confirm, once again, that President John F Kennedy is dead.\"\n\nA shriek rang out in the room and Carol burst into tears while the other women examined the screen in silence.\n\n\"How?\" Jo whispered.\n\n\"We'll shortly cross to Dallas once again to hear about the condition of Governor Connelly who was also injured in this incident. The shooting happened as the President's motorcade drove through Dee lie Plaza in the centre of Dallas earlier today and as we have just heard, President Kennedy; the thirty fifth president of the united states, died of his injuries a few moments ago.\"\n\n\"Oh, my God!\" Roma shrieked.\n\n\"He was shot.\" Ruby announced to no-one in particular.\n\n\"There goes the civil rights movement.\" Jo whispered. \"He was going to support it and now he's dead.\"\n\n\"They probably killed him because of that.\" Mandy replied.\n\n\"Who needs civil rights legislation?\" Ruby said looking around at the women. \"In this house\n\neveryone has civil rights no matter who they are. That's how it should be everywhere.\"\n\n\"It's not though, is it?\" Jo replied. \"Outside this house black people are treated like crapola.\n\nKennedy was actually in dialogue with Martin Luther King and trying to push through laws that would protect us. Now they've killed him for it.\"\n\n\"Don't forget.\" Roma said in her thick European brogue. \"This country is at war in Vietnam. It could be them who have killed him; the Viet Cong.\"\n\n\"The Vietnamese?\" Carol laughed. \"I don't think so; it's more likely to have something to do with the Cubans. Remember we have just got over the missile crisis. We have all their refugees turning up in boats wanting to stay here...\"\n\n\"It's probable some nut.\" Sam said loudly. \"This country has too many guns and some nutcase has probably got a hard-on over something stupid and decided to wipe Kennedy out because of it.\"\n\nThe room fell silent before Liz looked up and shouted.\n\n\"Can I put this aerial down now?\"\n\n\"Yes, turn it off.\" Ruby said as Sam flicked the switch on the television and the picture disappeared into a small white dot in the centre of the screen. They hung their heads and frowned thinking about the news they'd heard until Jayne said bluntly.\n\n\"Can we talk about the thief who stole my bracelet now?\"\n\n\"Do we have to?\" Carol replied raising her eyebrows. \"Don't you think we have more important things to worry about?\"\n\n\"It may not seem important to you.\" Jayne sneered.\n\n\"But it's important to me.\"\n\n\"I don't know why.\" Carol said under her breath. \"It was only a bit of cheep tat.\"\n\n\"No it wasn't.\" Jayne said loudly. \"That was 18 caret gold and it was brought by someone who I care about.\"\n\n\"Someone who's money you care about.\" Carol whispered.\n\n\"You fucking bitch!\" Jayne shouted. \"You're only jealous.\"\n\n\"Stop it, you two!\" Sam said slamming her hand down on the bar. \"I've just about had enough of this. Now, if you can't work together then you must both go, understand?\"\n\n\"It's not me.\" Carol said looking at Sam wide eyed.\n\n\"It's little Miss Gold finger here.\"\n\n\"While you all here, I'll go and look.\" Liz said.\n\n\"That's a good idea.\" Ruby said looking across to Liz. \"Go and have a look in every room and see if you can find it.\"\n\nLiz nodded and left the room.\n\n\"In the meantime.\" Ruby continued. \"I want you all to know that one thing I can't abide is a thief. If that bracelet is found in any room it shouldn't be in, someone's head is going to roll. It will roll all the way down the front path, down the road and out of here.\"\n\n\"Good.\" Sam interjected.\"You got that Velta?\"\n\n\"She's probably sold it.\" Velta said picking a magazine up from a nearby rack and reading it.\n\n\"Enough!\" Sam said firmly. \"Let's just play nice till we hear if Liz finds anything.\"\n\nThe minutes passed slowly as the old, grand clock in the hall, ticked by every second. The room heated up and the atmosphere grew thick and heavy while the small group contemplate the outcome.\n\nJayne's eyes darted here and there, avoiding contact with Velta in case it should lead to another confrontation. Roma filed at her fingernails with a long emery board.\n\nCarol read another magazine although her concentration was poor. Every now and then this\n\nfact would be given away as she peered up suspiciously.\n\nVelta stared ahead with a stern frown etched upon her over made-up face. Mandy and Jo sat together opposite Ruby who, at the bar, sipped from a long glass of ice and whiskey that Sam topped up occasionally.\n\nThat room which normally appeared bright and airy felt hot and oppressive. Mandy realised that the people made it so and that it was a room that could feel cheery or dull dependent on the people congregating within it.\n\nThe seconds became minutes and the minutes became hours. As the clock in the hall chimed the five o'clock the door opened sharply. Liz entered with a half frown, half scowl etched upon her lined and sharp-featured face.\n\n\"Well?\" Sam asked, unable to stand the tension for a moment longer. \"Did you find anything?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Liz replied turning to look at Jayne. Jayne stood and clutched her hands under her breast.\n\n\"You've found it?\" She asked with a breathless sigh. Looking down towards where Velta was sitting, her face turned into a wicked grimace.\n\n\"Did she, indeed?\" Velta sneered.\n\n\"Where was it?\" Sam said as Liz pulled the long gold chain from a pocket in her apron. It sparkled in the light from the low lamps and all the women stared at it as the chain swung from Liz's thin fingers.\n\n\"Guess?\" Liz smiled.\n\n\"Velta had it?\" Jayne said with a smug tone in her voice. \"Didn't she; go on, admit it.\"\n\n\"I didn't...\" Velta protested shaking her head from side to side.\n\n\"Where was it?\" Ruby asked loudly causing a frightening silence to descend upon the room\n\n\"Stop playing and tell us.\"\n\n\"I found it...\" Liz smiled looking about the room.\n\n\"In...\"\n\n\"Well?\" Jayne said expectantly. The tension was palpable. Each woman sat on the edge of her seat as Liz looked from eye to eye, face to face. When, at last, her gaze met Sam's, she flicked the chain into a small pile of sparkling gold. It sat in the palm of her hand and caught the light in every facet.\n\n\"...the laundry basket.\" Liz smiled. \"The laundry basket in her room.\"\n\n\"What?\" Jayne protested reaching out for the chain.\n\n\"In your laundry basket.\" Liz replied shaking her head. \"I looked in your room last after checking everywhere else.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" Jayne remarked holding her hand out. \"Where was it?\"\n\n\"It was in your basket,\" Liz said to Ruby as she passed the chain to Jayne. \"I looked in there and saw it attached to your jersey sleeve; must have caught it taking the jersey off.\"\n\n\"Or when a punter ripped her clothes off.\" Velta sneered.\n\n\"Ladies!\" Sam said walking to address the women in front of the bar.\n\n\"Jayne, you owe Velta an apology.\"\n\n\"I owe that bitch, nothing.\" Jayne replied looking around to face Velta.\n\n\"Jayne!\" Ruby said with a firm voice and sharp look. Jayne understood this look at once and\n\nguessed it was wise not to ignore it.\n\n\"Velta.\" Jayne said with a sniff. The words catching in her throat like poison.\n\n\"Velta, I am sorry for accusing you.\"\n\n\"And the rest.\" Sam said prodding the young woman with her index finger.\n\n\"Okay, and I'm sorry for hitting you.\"\n\n\"That's right.\" Velta announced standing on her feet and heading to the door. \"Get your facts right next time, honey.\" She opened the door and left the room cursing under her breath.\n\n\"That's it ladies.\" Sam said clapping her hands together. \"We will still be opening those doors in an hour or so. Get yourself ready and wear something respectable; if you have it.\"\n\n\"Will black do?\" Roma asked softly. She looked around the room at the other girls while they in turn looked towards Ruby and Sam for guidance.\n\n\"Black will be fine.\" Ruby answered. \"I'll wear my mourning jewellery; diamonds on black silk; how does that sound?\"\n\n\"Classy.\" Sam answered with what passed for a smile in her litany of scowls.\n\n\"Very classy.\"\n\nChapter 11\n\nAt 9.30pm Carter walked into the dimly lit bar. Wearing a pale blue suit and fedora hat he stood like a ghost for a moment in the doorway. Those cold, black eyes considered what was going on in the room, all the action and occupants were taken in with a sweeping; suspicious glance from a tilted head. The eyes were searching, possible for threats, possible dangers or impossible menace. What lurked in the shadows, the deep and dark shadows of his paranoia?\n\nA madman with a knife could be hidden under a table or a policeman with a gun, perhaps, sat behind a sofa. Carter assured himself that only one madman was in that room at that particular moment and he was it. Like a cockroach he scuttled across the room to the bar. Painful past experiences had taught him how to read a room, how to work people out in an instant and tonight he was reassured that no threats existed, no drug squad or drug rip offs; he could now relax.\n\nHe caught sight of Mandy and Sam standing under a pale red light on the other side of the L shaped bar. He raised two fingers to the brim of his fedora to acknowledge them before sliding across the room to join them.\n\n\"Good evening, dear ladies...\" He hissed in his clipped British accent.\n\n\"...or should I say, pleasant evening on a bad day?\"\n\n\"Evening!\" Sam replied with no hint of emotion in her voice. She opened a bottle of beer from the bar and took a swig from the bottle. \"What would you like?\"\n\n\"Hmmm.\" Carter replied drinking Mandy in with his eyes.\n\nShe gave him a coy look and saw it reflected back in those huge black pupils of his. Like diamonds glittering on black velvet those eyes sparkled at her unnaturally; the only outward sign of his bombed out status.\n\n\"Whiskey chaser.\" He said softly. Sam looked at Liz who had heard the order and went off to pour a whiskey into a short glass for him.\n\n\"What would you like?\" he asked Mandy. The question was loaded with innuendo and accompanied with that look in his eyes it could have been an invitation to murder.\n\nMandy thought Carter was sending her messages through the ether. A telepathic message that she could just about make out; even though it was subtle and oblique, he was fucking her brain with his thoughts.\n\n\"Such a nice girl.\" He hissed licking his lips slowly with that thin red tongue.\n\n\"You look, my dear, good enough to eat.\"\n\nHe leant forwards and whispered in her ear out of earshot of everyone else.\n\n\"Tonight I'm going to eat your cunt till you cry for mercy.\"\n\n\"Oh, Mr Carter...\" She giggled. \"...I'm sure you are trying to embarrass me.\"\n\n\"For MERCY!\" he shouted as the whiskey chaser was placed in his fist. The bar room fell into silence and everyone turned to look in their direction making Mandy feel distinctly uncomfortable.\n\n\"Sorry everyone.\" Carter announced bowing humbly towards the room.\n\n\"I didn't mean to raise my voice. Just carry on as if I wasn't here.\"\n\nThe others in the room knew that when this man asked them to do something it would be better for them to do it. He looked dangerous, even from a distance.\n\n\"Why Carter...\" Ruby drooled as she joined them clutching the bar for support. \"...you look wonderful tonight; every inch a sophisticated gentleman.\"\n\n\"Thank you Madame.\" Carter replied taking a deep breath and facing her\n\n\"I am truly flattered. Is it not strange that a rather well then less known writer once observed that one can not acquire style, one has to be born with it.\n\nI most certainly must have been because the only virtue I was taught as a child was that to be\n\ndressed was itself decent and whether you are decently dressed or not was beside the point. But what else could be expected from a family whose motto was Sodomy, Insanity, Incest and Lies?\"\n\n\"Oh, Mr Carter.\" Ruby laughed girlishly throwing him a confused look. \"You are a card.\"\n\n\"Most certainly Madame.\" He replied rubbing his nose with his index finger while staring into Ruby's eyes.\n\n\"And you my dear, are a picture of beauty, a vision of voluptuousness, a stunning starlet whose glowing radiance outshines even the brightest sunburst. You are positive purity and...\"\n\n\"Pissed as a judge...\" Ruby interjected with a giggle.\n\n\"...but not so pissed to be outdone by a little course flattery.\" She laughed.\n\nMandy laughed aloud watching the woman turn on her heels and head back to her stool on the end of the bar.\n\n\"Your honesty belittles me madam.\" Carter shouted after her but the old woman could only turn her head and wave benignly.\n\n\"Silly old cow.\" He said to Mandy as soon as she was out of earshot. \"...look at the size of that arse. A women could only grow such an appendage by spending every hour God sends eating chocolate and smoking; while sitting upon it.\"\n\n\"Are you as two faced with everyone?\" Mandy asked seriously.\n\n\"Lighten up girl.\" He smiled showing a full set of white teeth. \"I'm only having a laugh.\"\n\n\"But at whose expense?\" she sniffed.\n\n\"I shouldn't be so flippant.\" Carter said after a long pause. The music in the background phased in and out of the conversation; the Beatles, rocking the USSR, filled in the spaces between his words and gave his voice a sing-song tone.\n\n\"Kennedy's death has got everyone uptight. Sorry for not being sensitive to your loss.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Mandy replied. \"I didn't know much about him but he was young and he said the right things. I was disappointed that the War in Vietnam has gone on so long, and all that stuff with Cuba was worrying. Still, I thought he was doing the best he can.\"\n\n\"You are right.\" Carter replied firmly. \"I just send up the old bag because she's making so much ciggy and chocci dough on your backsides. Perhaps I'm too cynical but I know one thing; I need a pick me up.\"\n\nWith that he removed a small pill bottle from his jacket pocket and flipped the lid off. He poured three white tablets into the palm of his hand and threw two into his mouth.\n\n\"Fancy one?\"\n\n\"Go on.\" Mandy replied closing her eyes and opening her mouth slightly. She felt the pill pop in and she closed her mouth to suck on it. The bitterness almost made her throw up immediately but then she relished the sensation on her tongue.\n\n\"Shall we proceed?\" Carter suggested placing his empty glass on the bar and smiling moodily. Mandy gulped back the last of her drink and looked about quickly. Everyone was busy in their own little groups except for Sam who was just looking at her and Carter. Mandy gave her a nod and gestured for Carter to lead the way.\n\nAs they climbed the staircase leading to the top of the house Mandy felt a strange numbness overcome her. It felt like her ears had become blocked and sounds were dampened, she felt dizzy momentarily and her vision blurred.\n\nA vague sensation of apprehension came over her and each step was filled with a mounting dread. It was claustrophobic and tense, a gradual feeling of being suffocated with a wet blanket.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Carter said passing in and out of focus.\n\n\"Dizzy.\" She replied holding tightly to the stair rail. It was all she could say although Mandy\n\nwanted to say much more the words could not form in her mouth.\n\nThe staircase went on forever, from hell to high heaven and beyond. They climbed like animal savages, a hunting party in quest of themselves; victims of Inca blood sacrifice; climbing the steps to the temple at the top of the world where a ceremonial dagger waited in the hands of the Prince of death.\n\nThere, in a graveyard of lost souls, at the foot of a bloodstained altar he stood dressed in Bird of Paradise feathers. She was marching at the helm of a party of savages towards oblivion. Upon her sacrifice she would rise again; Mystery, the mother of whores whose abominations marked her forehead. Leading her, an experienced Angel of Death, Carter; his eyes flash with fire and fury, those savage eyes turned all to stone that dare look into them.\n\nBehind him walks death's sickly friend. A smile of tormented agony etched like a mask on her face. His cold marble eyes, black and empty called her on; toward desolation, toward passion, toward the fleeting swoop of the priest's dagger and the rescue of her still beating heart.\n\nMandy felt detached and cocooned from what was going on. Like an outsider, she was looking through a spy-hole into the private world of strangers. She shivered slightly and wondered, inexperienced and shy, was she ready for what he had in store for her; did she really sign up for this?\n\nWhat great illusion the night held, it was wrapped up in a shroud of tension, a puzzle in an enigma. The apprehension was growing inside her whole body making her shake violently, yet she climbed higher into the dark shadows, higher into the void; towards the inevitable slice of the dagger.\n\nWhen at last they reached the top of the stairs the hall seemed colder than usual. The small red lamps that protruded from the walls burned too dimly for their purpose. They walked further, in unison, in time as if dancing to a unheard tempo they marched towards destiny.\n\nThen it was baring down upon them, the huge polished black door that was the access to a\n\ndreamland or just a place of nightmares. That door could have been a coffin lid, she thought, because beyond it; lay a grave.\n\nA thick stream of translucent sun light beamed through a crack in the curtain and stretched across the room like a laser. Mandy was alone in the plump white bedding in that white room which she had made her own.\n\nShe was curled up on the bed like a twisted rag doll curled around the duvet and pillows that kept most of the light from her sleepy eyes. Mandy moaned softly and turned upon her side, again she moaned almost a whimper, turning again in a restless half-sleep. Then, with a wincing gasp, she sat up.\n\n\"Ouch, that smarts.\" Mandy whispered to herself as she rubbed sleepily the bruise on her breast. She dragged her exhausted body off the bed and sat at the dressing table opposite the large mirror that sat on its top.\n\nMandy examined the bruise he'd given her, it resembled exactly the one on her other breast and when she looked closely she could see the teeth marks that fitted his smile perfectly, even down to the gap between his two front teeth. A screwed up smile swept across her face as she remembered getting that bite during the previous evening.\n\nShe went through her drawers and pulled out a thick black bra that covered her breasts modestly and looked in the mirror again; it covered the bruises completely. Getting up she pulled back the curtains and flooded the room in electric white light.\n\nA bead of sweat ran down her forehead and onto her lips tasting salty on her tongue. Picking up a brush as Mandy began to comb her thick curly hair as she heard a slight tapping on the door.\n\n\"Who could that be?\" she whispered looking towards the door. The gentle tapping came again.\n\n\"I'm coming.\" Mandy called; approaching the door.\n\n\"Hi!\" Carol smiled as Mandy pulled the door to one side. Carol walked past her and into the room giving its contents a casual inspection.\n\n\"I wondered if you'd be up.\"\n\n\"It is early.\" Mandy replied looking for her dressing gown briefly and pulling it on. \"Is there\n\nanything I can do for you?\"\n\n\"Oh...\" Carol smiled limply. \"...I just thought I'd knock to see if you were still alive.\"\n\n\"You've been listening to Velta too much.\" Mandy said sarcastically and she began to apply some thick mascara.\n\n\"I don't think so.\" Carol replied sitting upon the bed and looking around the room.\n\n\"Me and Velta don't talk.\"\n\nMandy continued to build up her already excessive mascara and looked at Carol's reflection in the mirror.\n\n\"If you not talking about the bullshit Velta's been coming out with, what exactly do you mean?\"\n\n\"You know.\" Carol smiled. Her eyes were glassy and hard and her expression void of feeling.\n\n\"I heard the sounds coming from upstairs last night.\"\n\n\"You did?\" Mandy said cautiously.\n\n\"I'm just concerned, that's all, you're so young and pretty. I just don't want you to take any un-necessary risks.\"\n\n\"Look honey.\" Mandy replied as she applied some of the pale pink lipstick Jo had given her. \"Don't you worry your pretty little head about me; I'm a big girl now.\"\n\n\"I don't want to gossip but...\" Carol said softly.\n\n\"If you don't want to gossip...\" Mandy interjected. \"...Don't!\"\n\n\"But I worry about you.\" Carol sighed.\n\n\"Thank you for the concern.\" Mandy said turning to face her. \"But don't waste it on me, after all, we don't even know each other, do we?\"\n\nCarol was silent for a while as Mandy continued to apply her makeup.\n\n\"We may not know each other well, yet.\" Carol said thoughtfully. \"But I like you and thought that perhaps we could become good friends. Especially as you have to work up in that room now, with...\" she paused and lowered her breath before saying softly.\n\n\"...Sam and that Carter fellow.\"\n\n\"Look Honey.\" Mandy said with a slight irritation in her tone. \"Carol, I appreciate the concern and all that, I really do. But I am okay and there's no reason for you to worry. It's not like I'm being forced to do anything I don't want to do.\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Carol said with a small frown before adding. \"Just be careful babes. Please; you don't know what he's capable of.\"\n\nThe door opened suddenly without a knock and a mop of damp blond hair appeared closely followed by Jayne's face.\n\n\"Is Carol in here?\" Jayne mumbled. She saw Carol sitting on the bed and her eyes darted towards Mandy who was turning away from the mirror to see who had come into the room. Jayne threw Mandy a cold glance and turned to face Carol. Are you coming, or what?\" she demanded with a icy tone.\n\n\"Didn't you learn to knock before entering a room? Mandy said to no one in particular. \"Or were you brought up in a barn.\"\n\nJayne did not reply she just threw Mandy a colder glance and said.\n\n\"Come on...\" Before sniffing. \"...unless you want to talk to this dumb nigger.\"\n\n\"What did you say, bitch?\" Mandy said rising from her chair. Carol also stood and rushed towards the door.\n\n\"It's time that I went...\" She said giving Mandy a smile. \"...It's been great talking to you.\"\n\n\"You don't have to go.\" Mandy replied looking at Jayne intently. \"Not if you don't want to.\"\n\n\"Fuck that black bitch.\" Jayne snarled.\n\n\"Why you...\" Mandy screamed throwing herself towards the door. Carol stood in her path and pushed Jayne out of the room before gritting her teeth and nodding goodbye.\n\n\"Take no notice...\" Carol said softly as she left the room\n\n\"She's like it with everyone.\"\n\nMandy was fuming with anger and kicked the door closed behind them. She had decided a long time ago that if she ever got called a black bitch the comment would be written in her imaginary book of revenge.\n\nBeside it would be added the perpetrator's name and what torturous activity awaited them in the not to distant future. It could be consistent rudeness, occasional sabotage of food or clothing. Pins stuck in fruit and razor blades in soap were other ideas she would furnish that torture chamber that she constructed in her imagination.\n\nMandy sat at the dressing table and cursed under her breath.\n\n\"Black bitch, eh....\" She whispered. \"...I'll show that white trash what sort of black bitch I can be.\"\n\nShe snapped the eyebrow pencil she was holding in two accidentally. Shaking her head Mandy did what she could to her brow with what was left of the pencil and got dressed. As the Old clock in the hall struck One O'clock midday Mandy stepped slowly down the stairs and secretly out the front door. The warm sun was at its apex in the afternoon sky and the street shimmered in bright white light.\n\nThe avenue sweated in the heat and a woman pushed a small child in a buggy along the sidewalk as Mandy closed the gate behind her.\n\n\"Afternoon.\" The woman smiled. Mandy nodded and smiled back. Pulling her shoulders back she headed towards the main street.\n\nAcross the road a man glanced anxiously at his watch and tugged at his damp shirt collar. His face was bloated and red in the midday sun. Cursing under his breath the man made his way to the nearest telephone booth and sheltered from the blistering sun for a moment. Two lovers walked past Mandy, hand in hand. The young girl sucked seductively on an ice-pole and the boy placed his hand in the back pocket of her jeans.\n\n\"Fancy meeting you here?\"\n\nMandy looked up and saw Max standing beside her. She smiled and greeted him in a cautious, almost guilty tone that relayed her guilt about their last encounter.\n\n\"Max, how lovely to see you.\"\n\n\"I thought you hated me.\" He replied glancing at the floor briefly.\n\n\"Come on. I was at work.\" She sighed referring to the way Sam had talked to him that evening.\n\n\"I just do what I'm told in that house.\"\n\n\"Yha, sorry.\" He smiled. \"Going my way?\"\n\n\"I was so hot in my room; so I fancied a walk.\"\n\n\"Well,\" he bowed and stretched out a hand, \"Lead the way, pretty lady. In fact, there's a small park nearby with a paddling pool.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"If you could handle getting your feet wet, we could...\"\n\n\"That sounds great.\"\n\nA few moments later they were splashing about in the park with a group of kids and a few lost dogs. Everyone was cooling off in the hot sun and the splashes of water soon got into Mandy's thin dress making it cling to her slender body.\n\nMax looked at her when her attention was elsewhere and took in the shape of her breasts and butt with a lingering gaze. She turned and caught him staring.\n\n\"Does this look obscene?\" she asked referring to the dress.\n\n\"It looks fantastic?\" he replied with a smile.\n\n\"Obscene, but fantastic.\"\n\nAfter a while they sat on the grass and Max brought them both ice cream. it was while she sucked on the cold cone of ice that he noticed the bruise under the neckline of her dress.\n\n\"How did you get that?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's nothing...\"\n\n\"Mandy!\" he replied loudly. Max leant closer and pulled the neckline down a little revealing the bite marks clearly imprinted on her flesh in blue bruises.\n\n\"That's not nothing. Who did this to you?\"\n\n\"No one Max.\" she said pulling her top up and away from him. \"It's nothing.\"\n\n\"She did it.\" He snapped referring to Sam.\n\n\"The fucking bitch; I wish you didn't have to work in that place with those freaks.\"\n\n\"Max.\" she said firmly. \"We've been through this before. It's a job and a job that I enjoy.\"\n\n\"You enjoy being beaten and fucked. That's nice.\"\n\n\"Max.\" she stood and looked down at him. \"Don't ruin this afternoon. Please.\"\n\n\"Sorry, babe.\" He said softly standing and taking her hand in his. \"I just worry about you.\"\n\n\"Well don't.\" she said pulling her hand away.\n\n\"I've got to go now. Thank you for the ice cream.\"\n\n\"Don't be like that Mandy.\" Max said as she turned and began to walk away.\n\n\"I am coming tonight.\" He shouted after her. \"Tell that fucking bitch that I'm coming tonight.\" Max looked at her go into the shimmering distance and kicked out at a tuff of grass in desperate frustration for messing it up again.\n\nAt six thirty she was sitting on a stool in the bar watching the fat punters arrive with their pocket books full of dough and their balls full of spunk. Ruby sat at the bar on her usual stool and Sam lingered nearby. Carol and Jayne were occupying one of the sofas while they entertained a fat Texan while Velta stood near the door with a middle aged Italian who was wearing a well cut suit. Only Roma sat alone, lost in her thoughts.\n\nMandy had passed Jo as she entered the bar. Her friend was on her way up to the rooms with a man a little for the worse due to alcohol and she just whispered a howdy as they passed each other.\n\nLiz, who was behind the bar serving drinks glanced over Mandy's shoulder and snarled.\n\n\"Hi baby.\" Max smiled slipping up to the bar and joining her.\n\n\"I hope you hadn't forgotten our date?\"\n\nMandy half smiled and looked towards Liz who was pursing her lips and giving Max the once over.\n\n\"What do you want...\" Liz asked impatiently.\"...scotch, vodka, brandy or a beer?\"\n\n\"I'll have a lemonade.\" Mandy whispered.\n\n\"Come on.\" Max laughed tickling her gently. He withdrew a wad of notes from his pocket.\n\n\"Tonight I'm flush and tomorrow your tips jar will be showing a profit. Order something nice, something expensive.\"\n\n\"I'll have a sunrise.\" Mandy smiled back.\n\n\"Tequila for both of us.\" Max said slamming a ten dollar note on the bar.\n\nMandy looked at him and noticed that his loudness was probably an act to cover his nervousness. She looked at Sam quickly and was relieved to see that she was talking to Ruby quietly. Sam looked up cautiously, keeping a secret eye on them both.\n\n\"Hay you.\" Max called to Liz. \"Don't scrimp on the tequila. Hold off with the orange.\"\n\n\"Do you want to make it as well Mister?\" Liz replied sarcastically as she poured the tequila on top of the bright orange grenadine.\n\n\"I love the kinky footwear.\" Max said running his fingers down the side of Mandy's leather knee length boots. \"Are they new?\"\n\n\"I got them today, in the flea market.\"\n\n\"Fab, you look so cool.\" He flashed her a wide smile boyish smile and she realised just how young he was.\n\nShe did not want to tell him that Mr Dog, the man she had whipped so expertly a couple of nights ago and bought them for her. It was the kind of information that Max would get angry about so she told a lie to save the aggravation of being truthful.\n\n\"Shit.\" Max belched after gulping the drink Liz had served.\n\n\"If that had any tequila in it I'm a monkey's uncle.\"\n\nLiz placed four dollars in change by his empty glass and threw Max another snarl.  \n\"Give me another.\" He said abruptly. \"...You know princess.\" Max said turning to face Mandy.\n\n\"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.\"\n\n\"Come on.\" Mandy smiled sipping her drink slowly.\n\n\"But you are.\" He insisted as Liz left a dollar next to a glass full of orange liquid; another\n\ntequila sunrise.\n\n\"When I was younger....\" He said looking at the drink and placing the dollar in his pocket.\n\n\"You know, when I was at school, there was this girl. Jesus, she was so gorgeous; exquisite. Just like a movie star, she had long black hair like yours and dark brown eyes that were so clear they were like pools of water.\n\nIn those days schools around where I lived were segregated. Not just boys and girls but colour, you know, black and white. She went to a black girl's school that was run by Baptists or something. I had such a crush on that girl that I used to wait outside her school yard at lunch times just hoping that I'd get a small look at her.\n\nOne night I asked if I could carry her books home but her brothers thought I was giving her a hard time. Can you believe that? There I was being nice and they thought I was going to rob her or something; boy, did they give me a thrashing.\"\n\n\"What?\" she giggled. \"They beat you up?\"\n\n\"They kicked my ass good.\" Max continued. \"I tried to explain to my parents but they were horrified that I was interested in a black girl. They sent me to a psychiatrist like I was mentally defective.\"\n\n\"They were right there.\" She laughed. \"So what happened?\"\n\n\"I eventually asked her to go on a date, I wanted to take her to see a movie with Marlon Brando in it. There I was standing outside the cinema all suited and booted...\"\n\nHe paused for a while and played with the glass on the bar seemingly deep in thought.\n\n\"So?\" Mandy asked. \"What happened, did she show or what?\"\n\n\"No.\" He said softly. \"I was stood up.\"\n\n\"Oh, shame.\" She giggled with a soft smile. Mandy took her hair from her eyes and looked at him while she tucked it behind her ear. Max had suddenly become quite morose and she started to feel very soft for him. Mandy reached out and touched his hand.\n\n\"So did you see her again?\"\n\n\"I saw her brother.\" He said. \"Apparently she was excited about meeting me and spent a long time getting ready for the night. Anyway she rushed from the house so she wouldn't be too late...\"\n\n\"Really?\" Mandy said wondering what happened. \"So why didn't she turn up?\"\n\n\"She was run over by a truck.\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Seriously.\" Max continued. \"She was on her way to see me when a truck hit her and killed her instantly. I was so shaken up by that I stayed away from girls for a while.\"\n\n\"Max.\" Mandy sighed with a faint nervous smile.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, that's the saddest story I've ever heard.\"\n\n\"That's why when I saw you...\" He looked around and deep into her eyes. \"When I saw you all sorts of feelings came up. Feelings I thought I'd pushed deep inside me; feelings I couldn't explain to you or anyone. Do you understand now?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" She replied. \"I had no idea.\"\n\n\"Don't get embarrassed.\" Max said perking up a little. \"I didn't mean to embarrass you or make you depressed.\"\n\n\"It's okay.\" She giggled. \"Now you're acting up to it.\"\n\n\"That's what I like about you.\" Max laughed. \"You know how to put me in my place.\"\n\n\"Well then,\" Mandy said softly. She looked about to see it they were being overheard. \"I guess we should go upstairs.\"\n\nMax smiled and raised his eyebrows as if to say, now you're talking. He hardly noticed the quick look Mandy gave to Sam as she observed them from her corner. He looked up and saw her walking towards them.\n\n\"Hay, hang on!\" Max exclaimed loudly. The other people in the bar heard his voice and looked around to see what the commotion was about.\n\n\"What's going on here?\"\n\nSam stood next to Mandy and looked at him with that expression on her face that made others feel uncomfortable.\n\n\"What's the problem?\" Sam hissed softly taking Max in that gaze.\n\n\"I mean.\" Max growled. \"What the fuck do you want?\"\n\n\"She works with me, Max.\" Mandy replied standing and looking into his eyes. \"We work the black room. I thought you knew...\"\n\n\"You what?\" he stuttered.\n\n\"I thought that's what you wanted?\" Mandy said looking between Max and Sam in succession.\n\n\"Well you thought wrong.\" He said firmly. \"If you're in a different room, that's cool with me but I'm paying for your company not hers.\"\n\n\"We come together.\" Mandy said softly but as she did so they heard Ruby clearing her throat above the sound of the music and they turned to see if she was okay. Ruby looked at Sam and raised her eyebrow and in that instant a whole conversation flowed between her and Sam.\n\nBoth women knew each other so well that this one small gesture conveyed a message which they both understood. Sam nodded back and turned to Mandy.\n\n\"It's okay, show him the ropes on your own, I'm busy.\" Then she bent her lips up slightly in what could almost be a smile had it not been laced with menace. Mandy raised her eyebrows with surprise as Sam left them and she turned to Max.\n\n\"Well,\" she smiled. \"Now you have me all to yourself.\"\n\nMandy reached out to Max as they climbed the stairs.\n\n\"You were quite rude.\" She said as they reached the landing. \"Sam only wants to make sure we, the girls, are okay.\"\n\n\"Fuck her.\" Max replied. The smell of alcohol swept across the space between them and was almost intoxicating as it hit Mandy's nose.\n\n\"I don't need anyone to hold my dick, Princess.\" He slurred propping himself up on the banister. \"Beside, what is she? What is SHE, a creature, a thing; that's what. I didn't want her around me because she makes my skin crawl, that's all, you can't blame me for that, can you?\"\n\nIt was not a question, it was a statement and it was made in a drunken rant that would be forgotten in the morning; forgotten, but only by Max.\n\n\"She acts all big but she's just a pig ugly whore like everyone else in this shithole. If I wanted to fuck a pig ugly whore I'd gone to a fucking pig ugly whorehouse...\"\n\nMax realised what he had said and started to laugh out loud. Mandy tried to shush him and waved her hands bedside his face quickly.\n\n\"Keep your voice down.\" She said anxiously.\n\n\"I mean a cheaper whorehouse...\" Max laughed in a hush.\n\nMandy grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the last flight of stairs towards the hall outside the Black Room.\n\n\"You are so much better than her.\" Max whispered as they climbed the last stairs.\n\n\"Really Princess and don't you ever doubt it.\"\n\nShe pulled him across the small landing and to the door of the Black Room and propped him up as the door swung open silently.\n\n\"Phew.\" Max whistled. \"Just what is this place?\"\n\n\"The Black Room.\" Mandy replied leading him into the room and pushing him onto the gimp box.\n\n\"Somewhere that dreams can come true.\"\n\nMax threw her a bewildered glance and stood unsteadily to walk around the room examining every object and piece of furnishing like relics in a museum. He paused by a set of chains that hung from a hook in the ceiling and reached out to rattle them.\n\n\"A place where dreams come true...\" he said softly. \"...how about nightmares, eh babe? This is a torture chamber, isn't it?\"\n\n\"It's where I work now.\" She replied placing a hand upon her bony hip and throwing back her head proudly.\n\n\"We provide a specialist service to particular clients who require more than just straight sex.\"\n\n\"What are you going on about?\" Max asked with an astonished look on his face.\n\n\"Particular clients...\" He said mimicking her. \"...you mean peculiar clients, don't you? Perverts, they're all bloody perverted the guys into this shit.\"\n\nMandy looked at him without an expression and decided to carry on as if he were a normal Black Room customer. With that in mind she spoke firmly trying to sound as dominant as Sam had the first time Mandy had visited that room.\n\n\"Shall we proceed?\"\n\n\"Proceed?\" Max laughed as he did a bad impression of Mandy's voice.\n\n\"Proceed with what, do you want to chain me up and swing me from the ceiling?\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" she said firmly.\n\n\"Fuck you.\" He slurred before turning to make his way to the door.\n\n\"Max, what are you doing?\"\n\n\"Fuck you.\" He replied. She shook her head and caught up with him.\n\n\"Max,\" she sighed taking him by the arm and turning him to face her.\n\n\"I was in character. It's like dressing up, you know, a role play.\"\n\n\"I don't play games....\" He snapped. \"...especially when it's costing 40 dollars an hour.\"\n\nMandy let go of his arm and her whole manner changed as she realised that he was only interested in screwing her and going. He wasn't interested in what she did or who she was. It was just about the sex and nothing else. That thought made her feel very depressed. She felt like such a fool to believe that he was actually interested in her.\n\n\"Oh, Mandy.\" He sighed realising just what he had said and more importantly how it was interpreted. \"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just that I want you so badly; not as a gimp whore, not just a fucking playmate. I want to go to your old room and be intimate. I want to hold you in my arms and smell your hair in my nose. I want to feel your skin against mine; that's all. I want to love you.\"\n\nHe reached out and put his arms around Mandy's shoulders and pulled her towards him gently.\n\n\"Jesus, Mandy....\" He said softly into her ear. \"...I can't stand to see you doing this to yourself; I worry about you, that's all.\"\n\n\"Don't Max.\" she replied laying her head upon his shoulder. It felt safe in his arms and she let herself go, feeling all the tension in her body leave her and they became so close it was like they were joined.\n\n\"I worry that I'll lose you.\" He said softly and she felt his breathing shudder gently and realised that he was weeping. \"I want to be with you forever.\"\n\n\"Please Max.\" she said feeling a warm tear fall down onto her shoulder.\n\n\"Please don't do this to yourself; ask yourself, are you weeping for me, or that girl who was run over?\"\n\n\"Don't say that...\" He replied pulling away and avoiding her gaze.\n\n\"...how do you think it makes me feel?\"\n\n\"Look, this is just a job Max.\" she sighed. \"It's work. It's what I have chosen to do and I enjoy it, no-one forces me to do anything I don't want to do.\"\n\n\"You enjoy violence?\"\n\n\"It's not violence, it's role play.\" She explained trying to put the right words together so that he would understand it.\n\n\"Haven't you ever heard of pleasure through pain? Anyway, you should be pleased that I'm doing this.\"\n\n\"Oh, yha?\" He sneered. \"Why is that exactly?\"\n\n\"Because I'm not fucking anyone.\" She paused and thought for a moment.\n\n\"It's not about penetrative sex, right. If you can't get your head around it you might as well walk right now.\"\n\nMax shook his head and walked back inside the room to take a seat on the rack. He was deep in thought when she added.\n\n\"You can get your money back from Ruby; I'll make sure she pays you.\"\n\n\"I don't want the money.\" He spat at her with an air of desperation in his voice. \"I want you.\"\n\n\"You got me Max.\" she replied walking to him.\n\n\"I want you like the first time we were together.\"\n\nMax went quiet for a moment as he recollected that first night in the White Room.\n\n\"We had fun, I enjoyed it; we just don't need all these props.\"\n\nHe thought about her body and they way she had quivered in his hands as they made love. It had been a beautiful experience and all he wanted to do was go there once more. Mandy rubbed her fingers through his thick mop of hair and smiled gently.\n\n\"You enjoyed it too, didn't you?\"\n\n\"Max.\" she sighed pulling away from him. \"If you want the truth I'll give it to you.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" He replied looking up at her.\n\n\"It was awful.\" She said looking away from him and playing with the chains suspended from the ceiling.\n\n\"I've discovered that I can only really enjoy sex if it done like this. I might be a pervert in your eyes but hay, all sex could be distasteful if it's not your thing.\"\n\n\"So I guess that means that we are through?\" Max said quietly. His brain was so full of ideas,\n\nthoughts and feelings that it felt like it was going to explode.\n\n\"No Max.\" she replied softly. \"We can stay and work things out. Our time can be different, okay? It can be anything you want it to be.\"\n\n\"Not here.\" He replied standing and heading for the door.\n\n\"And you just said, the other way was awful.\"\n\n\"Max.\" she called after him. \"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"Home.\" He shouted as he began that long and lonely descent down the stairs.\n\n\"Where's home?\" she said catching him on the landing.\n\n\"Tell me and I'll meet you away from here.\"\n\n\"I live in Glendale.\" He replied avoiding eye contact. \"It's not too late to repair what we had,\n\nbut if you want to do it then it has to be away from this fucking house.\"\n\nHe turned and was gone. Mandy watching him disappear down the stairs and bit her lip thinking about what he had said. It was nice having someone care about her but this was the first time in her life that she felt in control of things. It was the first time that she had only herself to answer too.\n\nOkay, she was working for Ruby but even that relationship wasn't like anything she had experienced before. The experience had made her grow up quickly and she liked being in charge of her own life; did she really want a man interfering in it?\n\nFor some reason she felt a tear roll down her face and she sat on the stairs. Why now, she thought? Why now, when everything seemed to be going her way did a serious relationship come along that just wanted to take it away from her? It wasn't fair.\n\n\"What's up, babe?\" Mandy looked up and found Velta looking down at her. Supported on her arm was a very fat, very bloated red-faced man who was obviously the worst for drink.\n\n\"I'm okay?\" Mandy lied.\n\n\"Man trouble eh?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Mandy replied pulling herself together and standing.\n\n\"We were going to use the splash room.\" Velta said nodding towards the man she was supporting. \"But I think he couldn't hold it any longer.\"\n\nMandy looked down and saw a wet patch on the man's groin area. She pulled a face and stood to one side.\n\n\"Don't let the bastards grind you down.\" Velta said as she squeezed past pulling the man behind her.\n\n\"I'm okay, really.\" Mandy said. \"Do you need a hand?\"\n\n\"No,\" Velta replied pulling the man's cheek and talking in a babyish voice.\n\n\"We're going to have a little clean up and Momma's going to empty baby's diaper then she's going to empty his wallet for him. Eh buster?\"\n\nShe held his chin and nodded the man's head up and down; laughing like a carefree child.\n\n\"Go and get yourself a drink, Jo's in the bar.\"\n\n\"I will.\" Mandy replied surprised that Velta had spoken to her in such a civil way. She had always been so abrupt before.\n\n\"I will, thanks.\"\n\n\"Come on buster.\" Velta said kicking the door closed. \"Let Momma get those pants off.\"\n\nChapter 12.\n\nThe long hot summer wore on and the steamy days seemed to last forever. Mandy became a much sought after commodity as the news of her stunning beauty spread through the grapevine.\n\nShe managed to keep her nightly quota of johns and Ruby was happy with the money this brought into her coffers. Mandy would have done far more business if she was not solely attached to the Black Room. Many men wanted to use her but most were unwilling to be abused by her in that manner.\n\nRuby did not worry as those that were willing to play the adult games in that chamber paid highly for the privilege; the extra profits being passed on to Mandy, of course. Each week Ruby would set up the desk in her private office and the girls would enter one by one to receive their wages.\n\nMandy opened her first banking account and passed herself off as a beauty consultant. This allowed her to deposit two hundred dollars a week into it. This was half her weekly pay and the other two hundred would go into an envelope and get posted off to her mother.\n\nMandy was walking through the park one day near the observatory when she saw a telescope that had a slot to accept five-cent pieces. This payment allowed the viewer to look and see the view across the San Fernando valley for about three minutes.\n\nAfter this time a shutter would come down and more money would have to be deposited before the view could be seen again. This gave Mandy an idea and on her return to the house she suggested to Ruby that the cellar be split into partitioned areas which could be fitted with shutters on a timer. A punter could place a silver dollar in a slot and allowed to view a naked girl dancing on the other side of the shutter until their time ran out and they put more money in the slot.\n\nRuby liked the idea and so did the girls because they only had to dance rather than have sex with the punters. So, in the spring of 1965, America's first peep-show opened in the basement of Rose House.\n\nThis part of the house had its own entrance and was open 24 hours a day with the girls taking turns to dance in the area surrounded by the cubicles. This meant that while the rest of the house was quiet and the girls were sleeping money was still coming into Ruby's bank account and into the girl's pay packet.\n\nWithin weeks each cubicle was making between ten and fifty dollars a day. The dancers earned forty dollars a day and they worked a hour on and two hours off sharing the time with two other girls each day.\n\nAs the year marched on and Thanksgiving came and went soon the feast of Christmas came around again. This was the only day of the year that the basement was locked up and the house opened later in the evening so the residents could come together for a lunch around a beautifully decorated table.\n\nThe seating was always arranged by Ruby with the most important diners nearest her end of the table. Beside Ruby, on her left hand side, sat the elderly man who often accompanied her at the bar in the evenings.\n\nHe was a man who had known her since she was a young girl and had paid for her company since then. His name was McIntyre although they all called him Pops. He was in his late sixties, well built and very wealthy. He was, so Mandy had been told, madly in love with Ruby. Pops had fought in the Second World War and had been given several medals for valour which he wore on special occasions; Christmas and Thanksgiving were two of these.\n\nAfter leaving the army Pops had become a high ranking police officer and it was in this role that he first met Ruby. They were the original \"Star Crossed Lovers\". He had used his powers to get her off the hook and keep her in business ever since and so she could run a business with impunity from the law.\n\nSam always sat on Ruby's right hand side; dressed, as usual in black with a seasonal red ribbon holding her hair from her face. On Sam's right sat Carter; dressed in a stiff black suit with a silk white shirt and tie.\n\nHe was drinking wine and made a point of holding the glass in such a way that the diamond ring that decorated his pinkie sparkled in the candle-light. Sitting directly opposite Carter, Mandy shimmered in a crimson and yellow taffeta gown that was decorated with a bright orchid.\n\nFor some reason unknown to Mandy the place setting next to her was unoccupied and she guessed that perhaps Liz was going to sit there for the main course; she was busy at present serving the starters; fruit salad. Velta sat next to this setting and on her right was a young man with long black hair called Marlon. Mandy had never seen him before and he said very little except the occasional whisper to Velta.\n\nCarol took the seat to Mandy's left and she was very drunk. Her head slumped forwards for most of the meal much to Ruby's distaste and occasionally Carol mumbled something unintelligible. If looks could kill Carol would have died the instant Ruby had first looked at her.\n\nJayne sat next to her and next Roma sat with a young man who was introduced as Edward. They both looked longingly into each other's eyes for most of the meal and only joined in the conversation when the meat was being carved by Pops.\n\nThe next place setting was occupied by one of the new dancers from the peep-show. This was a young Indian girl called Sage. She was tall, slim and exceptionally beautiful. Spending most of the day dancing kept her body in exceptional shape. She wore large silver rings on each of her delicate fingers and around her neck was a bright green jade neck-lace; the stones matched perfectly the green in her almond shaped eyes.\n\nBeside Sage sat a tall, well dressed man in his fifties. Slightly overweight his jowl sagged\n\nslightly over the top of his shirt collar and his thinning hair was flecked with grey.\n\nEach of his thick stubby fingers were decorated with ugly gold rings which caught the light as he shovelled huge forkfuls of food into his mouth. He had been introduced earlier as Christos, a friend of Jayne's.\n\nEveryone was listening to Carter's repartee. His wide mouth flashed those flashing white teeth as one jocular remark followed another; an endless stream of filth and fun. As the clock in the hall struck nine a loud knock echoed down the hall from the street door.\n\n\"I wonder who that could be.\" Ruby giggled looking around the room at the assembled guests.\n\n\"Perhaps Santa's got lost...\"Carter quipped. \"... unless there are any children here that have been exceptionally good this year.\" He looked about the table and added.\n\n\"Well, who's been an exceptionally good child?\"\n\n\"I have.\" Carol replied wiping fruit salad from her chin. She didn't notice a piece of chopped pear that was caught in her hair and it sagged there like an unconvincing decoration until her eye lids sagged again and she fell forwards mumbling something else.\n\n\"Yes dear...\" Carter laughed. \"...how very interesting.\"\n\nThe whole group laughed as he pulled a face at the woman.\n\n\"She's looking for the pineapple, poor love.\" Carter announced poking around in his starter.\n\n\"It's done a bunk with the grapefruit.\"\n\n\"Don't take the piss, mister.\" Liz said sternly pulling Carol's head up from the table and removing the fruit salad from under it.\n\n\"There ain't no pineapple.\" She remarked as she let go of Carol's hair and the girl's head banged down hard on to the table; face first.\n\n\"My point exactly.\" Carter replied with a bow.\n\nAnother knock came from the street door and Liz disappeared to answer it.\n\n\"Ladies and Gentlemen.\" Ruby announced hearing the street door close and the sound of footfalls approaching.\n\n\"I believe our mystery guest has arrived.\"\n\nLiz entered the room again and threw Mandy strange look; halfway between joy and foreboding. As Mandy had got used to Liz's array of strange grimaces she did not find this unusual. The door opened wider and a tall hunk of a man entered holding a bouquet of roses that hid his face. Mandy screwed her nose up wondering what was going on and she leant forwards as the man entered the room to a round of applause.\n\nShe gasped with excitement as the man flung back the spray of flowers and threw her a wide smile.\n\n\"I give you...\" Ruby said proudly. \"...Tom Farley.\"\n\n\"Tom.\" Mandy screamed getting up from her seat and running around the table to hold him in her arms.\n\n\"You old fox; look at you.\"\n\n\"Look at you babe,\" he replied smiling broadly. \"I left a young country girl and you've turned into a city honey. Wow, what a difference.\"\n\n\"It never crossed my mind,\" Mandy stuttered. \"I thought the place setting was for Liz.\"\n\n\"That'll be the day.\" Liz huffed collecting the first course dishes. \"Who else gonna skivvy around you folks if it ain't me?\"\n\n\"Or even...\" Mandy started to say before deciding to keep that thought to herself.\n\n\"Oooh,\" Jayne sneered. \"Someone's got a secret man.\"\n\n\"It's not like that.\" Mandy said guiding Tom Farley to the empty seat. \"Come on Tom, what have you been up to since we last met?\"\n\n\"He's a very good story teller.\" Velta whispered to Marlon as Liz placed a huge joint of beef on the centre of the table.\n\n\"With a good imagination.\"\n\n\"Oh yha?\" Marlon whispered. \"So I should take it all with a pinch of salt?\"\n\n\"Or a dollop of mustard.\"\n\n\"I can't tell you anything about what I've been up to.\" Tom said adjusting himself into his seat.\n\n\"Why is that?\" Ruby asked as Pops began to carve the joint.\n\n\"If I did.\" Tom replied nodding towards Pops. \"The sheriff there would want to run me out of town.\"\n\n\"The ex-sheriff.\" Pops replied. \"I hung up my Stetson years ago.\"\n\nThe table exploded with laughter but through her laughter Mandy looked across the table and saw that Sam's face was icy and her expression harder than usual. She was watching Tom Farley with a distinctly cool air as if she expected trouble.\n\n\"All I have to say is that a couple of years ago I was driving a truck load of whiskey across the country when just outside Carolina I spotted an ugly duckling at the side of the road.\"\n\nHe paused as Liz piled his plate with roast potato's and green vegetables. Pops placed some\n\nsliced beef on the plate and Tom poured over it some thick brown sauce.\n\n\"I pulled my truck over.\" Tom continued. \"...just to give that little duckling a lift down the road. On the way we had some good old tender love; and at the end of the journey I pointed her in this direction. Now that little duckling has grown into the most beautiful swan I've ever seen.\"\n\n\"Swan?\" Carol mumbled trying to lift her head from the table.\n\n\"I don't like game poultry, can I have the beef, please?\" This was all she could muster before her head dropped onto the table once more.\n\nTom reached out and took Mandy's hand in his and squeezed it tenderly.\n\n\"So you've stuffed your goose?\" Carter laughed. \"Now you're going to get stuck into some beef flaps. You gotta love those beef flaps.\"\n\n\"Mr Farley,\" Jayne asked as she poured gravy over her food. \"Do you always fuck your hitch-hikers or only the black ones?\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Farley coughed. He looked across the table and snorted loudly before saying firmly.\n\n\"Well I would have just driven straight on if I saw your sour face at the side of the road. I can't stand rudeness in any form especially when it comes from someone who should know better.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Jayne replied. \"There I was thinking we were getting on so well.\"\n\nCarter heard this and thought he'd have some fun so he reached out his foot and gently stroked the inside of Farley's leg in a direction that he'd believe was coming from Jayne.\n\n\"Hmm.\" Farley coughed. \"I don't know about that young lady.\"\n\n\"Sage?\" Velta asked passing the vegetables along the table. \"Who is your friend?\"\n\n\"This is Mr Cristos.\" Sage replied looking around the table. \"He's a very good friend of mine.\"\n\n\"How nice.\" Carter sighed. \"One big happy family.\"\n\n\"Are you local?\" Velta asked the fat man as he stuffed food into his mouth.\n\nCarter, smiling like a mischievous child bent his leg to touch Cristos on the ankle.\n\n\"YES!\" Cristos replied with a shock. His eyes darted across the table toward Velta who smiled and nodded in his direction.\n\n\"Although my family are originally Greek.\"\n\n\"I love going Greek.\" Carter laughed. Sam shot him a sharp look and he looked down at his food trying not to laugh. \"The food you know.\"\n\n\"We're famous for our FOOD!\" he shrieked as Carter stroked the inside of his leg.\"\n\n\"I'd love to eat something Greek.\" Velta replied with a lusty smile.\n\n\"I've heard Greek food is wonderful.\"\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Sage asked her friend.\n\n\"Fine, I'm fine.\" He replied looking at Velta anxiously.\n\n\"Have you travelled far?\" Sage asked Tom across the table.\n\n\"No, no.\" Tom replied between gulps of meat. \"Last night I was in a hotel not far from here.\"\n\n\"That's a shame.\" Sage replied as Carter reached out and touched Farley's thigh.\n\n\"You could have seen my show.\"\n\n\"Really.\" Tom smiled leering at the girl across the table thinking it had been her playing secretly with his foot.\n\n\"Perhaps later.\"\n\nCarter pushed his foot into Farley's groin as Sage replied\n\n\"I'll look forwards to that.\"\n\n\"So will I.\" The old man replied.\n\n\"Am I missing something here?\" Sam asked looking around the table.\n\n\"Is it desert time?\" Carol asked lifting her head off the table and letting everyone see a potato\n\nstuck firmly to her forehead.\n\n\"Oh, someone shut her up.\" Ruby cursed as Liz stepped up behind the woman and pushed her face back down into the table cloth.\n\n\"Would anyone like some of this?\" Edward asked holding up a bowel of sprouts.\n\n\"Over here please.\" Marlon replied. Carter smiled to himself and stretched his foot over to Marlon's crutch, which he could just about reach with his toe.\n\n\"Here you are, anything else you'd like?\" Edward asked with a smile.\n\n\"Perhaps later.\" Marlon replied rubbing Carter's foot in return. Carter laughed under his breath and nearly choked on a piece of meat.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Sam asked looking at him intently.\n\n\"Excuse me, I have to visit the small room.\" He replied leaving the table and exiting the room in a fit of laughter.\n\nThe other's looked across the table either expectantly or in fear of what would happen next.\n\nMarlon winked excitedly at Edward who looked down at his food and tried not to notice.\n\n\"Well, I have a surprise.\" Farley announced looking around at Mandy.\n\n\"Oh, I love surprises.\" Ruby cooed.\n\nFarley took a small box from his inside pocket and passed it to Mandy, she opened the wrapping and looked at the small gold ring that lay inside.\n\n\"Oh, Tom.\" She sighed. \"You shouldn't have.\"\n\n\"Happy Christmas.\" He smiled. \"Go on try it on.\"\n\nMandy did as she was told and looked at the ring with amazement.\n\n\"It's beautiful.\" She smiled.\n\n\"Rolled gold...\" Jayne snorted. \"...I can't wear it, it makes your fingers go green. I don't suppose that would notice on black skin.\"\n\n\"It's not rolled gold... \"Farley said to no one in particular then throwing Jayne a freezing grimace he turned to Mandy and smiled.\n\n\"...It's eighteen caret gold, just like my Baby; how you been doing since I see you last?\"\n\n\"Oh, good...\" She replied. \"...I'm no longer a naive country girl who don't know anything. I have a bank account, a wardrobe full of pretty dresses and some good friends. I owe it all to you, oh, and Ruby.\"\n\n\"Please...\" Jayne gagged. \"...excuse me, I've had enough, any more of this shit and I'm going to puke.\" She got up and left the table.\n\n\"What's up with her?\" Farley asked watching the woman leave the room.\n\n\"She's just jealous.\" Mandy replied with a scowl. \"Just ignore her, everyone else does.\"\n\n\"Do you know what...\" Pops announced sipping his wine gracefully.\n\n\"...I was watching TV the other day and I saw a group of students. Kent State, I think it was, a group of commie, long haired layabouts actually protesting about the war. Imagine, our boys are dying out there and these commie bastards are protesting about it.\"\n\n\"I support our boys.\" Farley said in a stone cold voice. \"But I don't agree with the indiscriminate bombing of civilians.\"\n\n\"You have to bomb civilians.\" Pops added. \"It's a way of grinding the population down; getting them to think differently about the war.\"\n\n\"Dropping napalm will not make them think differently about the war.\" Edward said timidly.\n\n\"It'll just make them think differently about us.\"\n\n\"During the second world war we had to bomb civilians...\" Pops replied before Ruby cut him short.\n\n\"Let's not talk about war, it's Christmas.\" She raised her glass and smiled broadly.\n\n\"Happy Christmas.\" They all said raising their glasses.\n\n\"What's that you're up to?\" Jayne said catching Carter in the bar.\n\n\"I was just having some brandy, Ruby doesn't mind.\" Carter replied.\n\n\"What else?\"\n\n\"Oh, just a little nose candy...\" He said with a smile. \"...Want a toot?\"\n\n\"I don't like cocaine.\" She sniffed.\n\n\"I have some naughty, nice-nice...\" he smiled gently. \"...I gave Carol a toot earlier and it's gone straight to her head.\"\n\n\"Is that what she's on...\" Jayne smiled. \"...now you're talking, hit me brother.\"\n\nCarter took a small paper wrap from his waistcoat pocket and a credit card which he used to take a small pile of white powder from the packet. He held it up to Jayne's nose and she sniffed it in with a loud suck.\n\n\"That's the stuff,\" she said rubbing the side of her nose. \"That's really hit the spot.\"\n\n\"It's from Burma, a friend of mine brought it back after doing some reporting on the war.\"\n\n\"I'm sick of the bloody war.\" She snarled. \"It's all you ever hear about these days; we should pull out and let the chinks get on with it.\"\n\n\"What are you like?\" Carter smiled.\n\n\"So, you and Little Miss Carolina are tight, yha?\" Jayne said looking at Carter with a half smile.\n\n\"What gives, I hate the bitch personally.\"\n\n\"You hate everyone.\" He replied flashing her those sharp, little teeth.\n\n\"... Why, I bet you don't even like yourself very much.\"\n\n\"You're wrong.\" She said with a huff looking at the floor.\n\n\"Am I?\" he smiled leaning forwards and whispering softly in Jayne's ear.\n\n\"Perhaps you're jealous of the fact that she's half your age and twice as pretty?\"\n\n\"You cunt.\" She spat. \"Fuck you, asshole.\"\n\n\"Oh, here's the real Jayne talking.\"\n\n\"That's the thing with people like you,\" she shouted. \"You're full of shit.\"\n\n\"And you're a middle aged slut with a face like a dried prune and a pussy like a bucket. No wonder you got attitude problems.\"\n\n\"Fuck you with tits on..\" She shouted walking to the door.\n\n\"And thank you,\" he smiled as she slammed the door behind her. \"Please come again.\"\n\n\"So, is that right?\" Tom Farley asked with a chuckle. \"You suggested the peep show downstairs and it's earning loads of money?\"\n\n\"That's right.\" Mandy replied.\n\n\"If it wasn't for her,\" Sage remarked across the table. \"I'd still be earning a dollar an hour as a waitress in a diner.\"\n\n\"Well I hope Ruby there appreciates you good.\" Tom said giving Ruby a wink, she smiled broadly and raised a glass to him.\n\n\"Does that mean,\" he continued. \"That you don't have to work one of the rooms these days?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Mandy smiled coyly. \"I still gotta earn my keep.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Farley said rubbing his chin. \"Let me guess what room you're in.\"\n\n\"I bet you can't guess.\" Mandy replied sheepishly.\n\nThe others around the table were not paying too much attention to Mandy and Farley's game. Talking amongst themselves and being entertaining for their guests, only one pair of eyes watched and one pair of ears listened over the backdrop of chatter. Sam was aware of the path this game was taking and all her senses were heightened because of it.\n\n\"Let me see.\" Tom mused looking Mandy in the eyes.\n\n\"It must be the red room, that being the colour of your underwear tonight.\"\n\n\"You noticed?\" Mandy laughed.\n\n\"Of course,\" he smiled. \"A man of my age sees things like that. Am I right?\"\n\n\"No,\" she said softly. \"Not the red room.\"\n\n\"Well,\" he sighed sipping from his glass again. \"I suppose it must be the white room that matches your pure heart.\"\n\n\"Oh, you're a sweetie.\" She smiled stroking his hand gently. \"But it's not the White Room.\"\n\n\"The Green Room.\" He said wide-eyed. \"The same colour of your eyes?\"\n\n\"Nope.\" She sniffed. \"You must be getting closer now.\"\n\n\"Then it's the Brown Room?\" he said with an air of satisfaction. \"To match your beautiful skin?\"\n\n\"Nope.\" Mandy smiled.\n\n\"No, baby.\" Farley said as his expression became confused. \"It must be the Brown room because there's only one room left and it can't be that one.\"\n\n\"That's right.\" She laughed. \"I'm working in the Black...\"\n\nFarley's hand slapped her cheek hard punctuating the word with a dull thud that echoed around the room and caught everyone's attention.\n\n\"You're telling me.\" He stuttered turning a puce colour with anger. \"Are you telling me you are working in That Black Room?\"\n\nThe assembled company looked at the pair in shocked silence. Only Sam wasn't shocked and had secretly expected the reaction from Farley, she bit her lip and shook her head from side to side as her mind worked out what her reaction should be.\n\n\"You put this young girl in the Black Room?\" Farley demanded to know from Ruby; slamming his fist hard on the table.\n\n\"She asked to work there, Tom.\" Ruby answered softly.\n\n\"No!\" Tom stuttered. \"I don't believe it. Are you saying she asked to work in there with that, with that thing?\" he threw a hard look at Sam.\n\n\"Ask her.\" Sam replied standing, placing her fists on the table and leering across at him.\n\n\"She's sitting right next to you. Go on fucker, ask her yourself.\"\"\n\n\"Is this true?\" he said turning to Mandy with tears welling up in his eyes. She was amazed by his reaction and looked speechlessly back at him.\n\n\"Is it true you asked to work with that monster?\"\n\nMandy smiled softly and looked firstly at Sam, then around the table and then back at Farley, she nodded gently.\n\n\"Jesus, H, Christ.\" He whispered under his breath. \"You disgust me.\"\n\n\"What?\" she said softly.\n\nFarley stood and threw his napkin across the table.\n\n\"You all disgust me.\" He shouted.\n\n\"Hang on fella.\" Pops said staunchly.\n\n\"I sent this girl here to be looked after by you, Ruby.\" Farley said shaking his head. \"And you have abused her, you've turned her into another freak, another monster.\"\n\n\"Stop being so dramatic.\" Sam said loudly.\n\n\"You think I don't know what goes on in that room?\" Farley hissed towards Sam. \"Well I do and it turns my stomach. You have corrupted this girl, corrupted her, hear that? Jesus, what would her mother say if she knew the perversions that go on in that room?\"\n\n\"Your swan has become a goose, eh?\" Sam laughed.\n\n\"Go on laugh.\" Farley shouted breathlessly. \"If she wants to play those sick, perverted games, so be it; but I want no part of it.\"\n\nHe pulled on his jacket and walked out the door. Mandy stood with tears in her eyes and ran after him but Ruby grabbed her arm.\n\n\"Let him go.\" She said firmly. \"You have to let him go babe, he'll destroy your confidence otherwise.\"\n\n\"It's true.\" Sam replied nodding towards Liz as if to instruct her to see if Farley had left the\n\nbuilding. Liz darted from the room as Ruby stood and placed Mandy's head upon her\n\nshoulder; she held her as a flood of tears came.\n\n\"That's it babe.\" She said motherly. \"Let it out, let it all out.\"\n\nThe others around the table looked amongst themselves awkwardly and pulled strained faces\n\nbefore their drunken conversations picked up again.\n\n\"Fucking commie bastard.\" Pops said knocking back a drink. \"If I was ten years younger I'd knocked the bastard out.\"\n\nChapter 13\n\nThe room was strangely dark for 8.30 in the morning. Mandy sat up and looked at the clock\n\nbeside her bed for a long time. Then, having folded back the bed sheets she hurled herself in one leap from the bed and towards her dressing gown and carpet slippers.\n\n\"Jesus,\" she moaned seeing her breath condensate into a white cloud. \"It's cold in here.\"\n\nShe made her way to the window and shielded her eyes from the daylight as she threw back the curtains. Looking outside she saw it was raining and grey outside. The sun was shining but it was a thin, diluted heat and a poor impersonation of its usual self.\n\nLooking at the bare tree branches Mandy frowned. The passing of time was marked by the destruction of all that beauty, the fullness of the trees, the singing of the birds, all gone until the next birth of spring.\n\nShe tried to cheer herself up by remembering the garden as it was, how during the summer the eucalyptus tree outside her window smelt and how the flower beds were full of blooms and sweetly smelling scents. Those luscious green leaves and confusing sprays of fauna that filler her room with the most wonderful aroma of summer heat no matter the time of day.\n\nLooking now the trees and ground were naked and brown, immovable in the face of harsh eastern winds. She viewed the destruction of winter in all its unsubtle motions with a sigh.\n\n\"God damn.\" She spat realising that she was shivering. Just then a tap rang out as someone knocked gently on her door.\n\n\"Are you awake, Miss Mandy, are you decent honey?\" a soft voice called.\n\n\"Yes Liz.\" Mandy replied turning to look in that direction. \"I'm decent, why?\"\n\n\"You won't believe what I got here...\" Liz announced opening the door. The door way filled with a massive spray of pink roses followed by Liz who was awkwardly carrying them.\n\n\"Wow!\" Mandy whistled. \"Are they for me?\"\n\n\"Ain't they beautiful?\" Liz mumbled walking to the bed and laying the spray upon the sheets. She immediately turned and headed towards the door again. \"Wait,\" she said. \"There's more.\"\n\nA few moments later Liz entered the room again carrying another spray of roses, these were white and green and were wrapped with a bright red ribbon.\n\n\"Don't they smell fine, honey?\" the maid said as she laid the second spray alongside the first and sucked in the scent through flared nostrils.\n\n\"They're beautiful.\" Mandy sighed. \"But who has sent them?\"\n\n\"There's a card here somewhere.\" Liz replied looking among the flower heads and pulling out a small white envelope.\n\n\"Here he is. I told you so.\"\n\nShe handed the card to Mandy who screwed her nose up and squinted her eyes wondering who had sent them; she opened the envelope and removed the card.\n\nMandy Darling, It read.\n\nI can't stop thinking about you.\n\nVery sorry about what happened.\n\nPlease marry me\n\nOr let me take you to dinner\n\nI'm crazy about you.\n\nMeet me tomorrow\n\nThe 18th at midday\n\nJunction of Sunset and Vine.\n\nMAX\n\np.s\n\nInsurance bus is looking up.\n\n\"MAX!\" Mandy gasped, she had expected them to have been from Tom and this news had thrown her for a moment.\n\n\"Liz, who brought them?\"\n\n\"Oh, a delivery boy.\" The old woman answered. \"Yes, just a delivery boy, or was that the postman?\" she tapped her chin in confusion.\n\n\"Whoever he was he must think a lot of you.\"\n\nMandy and Liz turned to see Jayne standing in the doorway. Dressed in a blue dressing gown with a toothbrush in one hand she stood with a hand on her hip and looked in.\n\n\"It's amazing he can even say your name.\" she said with a smirk.\n\n\"Considering how shit you treated him.\"\n\n\"Can I help you?\" Mandy said firmly.\n\n\"I was just saying...\" Jayne replied with a half smile.\n\n\"Well mind your own business.\" Mandy spat pushing the door closed.\n\n\"Excuse me.\" Jayne shouted from the other side.\n\n\"I hate that fucking black bitch.\"\n\n\"That woman.\" Mandy snarled towards Liz.\"She'll be the death of me.\"\n\nThen she turned and opened the door.\n\n\"What did you call me, bitch?\" she shouted down the hall.\n\n\"Leave it.\" Liz threatened. \"Please Miss, leave it; if the boss heard her talk like that she'd bounce her white ass all the way down Vine. You need to tell on that bitch.\" Suddenly Jayne turned and headed back towards Mandy's room.\n\n\"Why, you got a problem?\" Jayne shouted back from a few feet away. \"I was only saying...\"\n\n\"I heard what you said, so I'm black, what the fuck has it got to do with you?\"\n\n\"I only said you get a pretty face...\" Jayne smile sarcastically. \"...for a dumb nigger.\"\n\nMandy pounced and both women began to grapple on the floor.\n\n\"You fucking bitch.\" Mandy screamed tearing her nails into Jayne's face.\n\n\"Oh no...\" Liz screamed. \"...Not again. Miss Sammy, you better get yourself up here before one these girls tear an eye out.\".\"\n\nThumbs were now sinking into Jayne's throat and although her hands were pulling great lumps of hair from Mandy's head her face had a shocked expression across it. Suddenly her grip became limp and she began to let out a throaty gasp as Mandy's thumbs became white with the strain. Her face became a pale shade of pink and Mandy pushed harder into the fleshy parts of the woman's throat. A vein on Jayne's forehead started to throb relentlessly in time with the pulse that Mandy could feel though her thumbs.\n\nAs Jayne's eyes began to protrude from their sockets Mandy saw the woman's tongue swell and poke out through those thin lips.\n\n\"Die, you fucking whore.\" She spat feeling the pulse get slower and more pronounced. Jayne let out one final gasp when a voice boomed out behind them.\n\n\"Mandy!\" Sam shouted. \"That's enough.\"\n\nUpon hearing Sam\"s voice Mandy loosened her grip and dropped Jayne's head upon the wooden floor where it landed with a thump.\n\n\"She's had enough.\" Sam said softly. \"Let it go now.\"\n\n\"She...\" Mandy stuttered. \"She...\"\n\n\"Enough.\" Sam said again pulling Mandy up and shaking her.\n\n\"She...\" Mandy tried to speak but the words stuck in her dry throat. \"She called me a...\"\n\n\"Enough girl!\" Sam said. \"Liz, go and call Doctor Morgan.\"\n\nLiz scuttled off again and Sam looked down at the lifeless body that lay stretched out on the floor.\n\n\"Fuck.\" She said abruptly shaking her head. \"Go to your room and leave this to me.\"\n\nAs Mandy went into her room Sam dropped to her knees and started to give Jayne the kiss of life, blowing air into the woman's lungs and then pumping on her chest frantically. After a few moments Jayne was breathing on her own and Liz returned with a pillow and blanket.\n\n\"What the fuck was all that about!\" Sam shouted a short while later towards Mandy who was sitting on her bed still shaking. She had deep scratches across her forehead and cheek and blood was clotted on her lip.\n\n\"She called me a...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"A fucking...\" Mandy said softly.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"A fucking nigger.\"\n\n\"So you thought you'd strangle her for it, you stupid bitch.\" Sam said shaking her head.\n\n\"You don't understand.\" Mandy said looking up towards Sam. \"I've had that all my life and I'm not going to take it anymore.\"\n\n\"You've had it...\" Sam shouted. \"What about me, and Jo and what about Liz? Don't you think we have all had to deal with that sort of mindless nonsense all our lives? But we don't resort to violence every time we hear it; that's madness. \"\n\nSilence filled the room for a moment as both women looked at each other.\n\n\"What about me.\" Sam said again. \"Don't you think I've had to put up with despicable cunts like her too?\"\n\n\"I guess so.\"\n\n\"Well I have,\" she continued. \"You have to rise above it, remember white people are bred to hate; that's what they do. You don't have to descend to their level. If you do then you become a nigger, a stupid nigger at that. Do you understand what I'm telling you?\"\n\n\"I think so.\"\n\n\"You're just lucky that stupid bitch didn't die today; that could have meant the chair. Think about that next time one of these whitey's try to get your goat. You are better than that.\"\n\n\"Now,\" Ruby said looking about the room. \"Would someone kindly let me know what's been going on round here?\"\n\nShe was sitting behind her desk in the Pink Office and in front of her the women stood in a semicircle Velta, Carol, Jayne, Sam, Liz and Mandy all looked back with blank expressions.\n\n\"Well!\" Ruby screamed lighting a cigarette. \"Am I talking to myself?\"\n\nShe glanced over at Mandy's scratches and then at Jayne's black eye and red neck before exhaling a cloud of tobacco smoke.\n\n\"I'm not angry.\" She said softly. \"I'm not even mad, the last thing I want to do is scream and\n\nshout at you all like a bunch of naughty school kids. All I want is some answers. Now, what the fuck is going on in this house?\"\n\n\"Can I say something?\" Velta said helpfully.\n\n\"Thank you Velta,\" Ruby said. \"But No! The reason is you're probably just as much in the dark as I am. Someone's had a party and we didn't get an invite. I've been in this business for too long.\" She sighed taking a thoughtful moment to suck on her cigarette\n\n.\n\n\"Jesus, I've had this house longer than most of you have been alive. I have seen hundreds of bright eyed hopefuls like you lot come and go in that time. BUT!\" she slammed her fist down hard upon her desk making everyone in the room except Sam jump.\n\n\"I've never had so much fighting, bitching, back stabbing and general hateful behaviour before from any of them.\n\nYou all come to me in a mess and I feed you, clothe you, put up with your man problems, your period pains, unwanted pregnancies and all that other shit. Do I moan, do I throw you out, do I punch your faces in? No, hell I'm the nearest to a mother some of you have ever had and all I get in return is grey hairs. Not a card on my birthday or even a random thank you. So, cut the bullshit, I want some answers. Let's start from the beginning. Jayne how did you get the black eye?\"\n\n\"It was her,\" Jayne said softly nodding towards Mandy. \"She tried to strangle me.\"\n\n\"You fucking liar.\" Mandy spat.\n\n\"Shut it you,\" Ruby said firmly. \"You'll get your turn, carry on Jayne.\"\n\n\"She got these flowers and I was just saying how nice they were when she attacked me.\"\n\n\"She's a lying bitch.\" Mandy said softly.\n\n\"Can you expand on that?\" Ruby asked.\n\n\"This has been going on since I got here...\" Mandy continued. \"Little digs here and there, going on about my RACE and my COLOUR, I can't take it no more.\"\n\n\"Is this true?\" Ruby asked looking directly at Jayne.\n\n\"Ask Carol,\" Mandy interjected. \"She was with her a couple of nights ago when she started on at me.\"\n\n\"Please ladies...\" Carol huffed. \"...don't involved me in this little war.\"\n\n\"I heard the foul mouthed bitch...\" Liz interjected confidently. \"...I'm not afraid to say what she said either ; she called the girl a black bitch and a nigger. I was there so I know.\"\n\n\"Liar!\" Jayne shouted.\n\n\"We could go on all day like this.\" Ruby announced after a while. \"Jayne, this is the second time you have been found fighting and I've had enough. You're now on warning, anymore and you're out. As for the rest of you I expect a little peace from now on or people are going to start to look for work elsewhere, I can't have all this shit it's bad for business. Now, get out the lot of you.\"\n\nEveryone stood and walked sheepishly towards the door.\n\n\"Sam.\" Ruby said with a slight hint of annoyance.\n\n\"Not you, we need to speak.\"\n\nChapter 14\n\nThe clock above the town hall struck the last stroke of twelve noon. Mandy stood in its shadow anxiously counting the twelve strokes on the corner of Sunset and Vine. Her long curly hair, ruffled by a slight breeze was pinned loosely behind her left ear by a brightly coloured flower broach. She was wearing a beige fox fur jacket over a twenties style salmon pink dress; holding, in one hand, a crocodile skin purse.\n\nThe breeze carried a sharp chill that made her raise her deep fox fur collar against it and peer over the fur. She wondered if she was doing the right thing. Waiting, on an uncomfortable day for an uncomfortable guy; she was confused as to what exactly her feelings were toward him and guessed that this would be his last chance to bolster their relationship; or end it.\n\nMandy looked down the empty expanse of Vine St and saw a man approaching, as the man got closer she was surprised to find that it was not Max. She was surprised, not because it was not him, but that this made her feel disappointed. After all, she had not looked forwards to the meeting, but now she was here, she guessed that it would be an anticlimax if he failed to turn up.\n\n\"Shit.\" She cursed under her breath. \"That motherfucker's not going to show.\"\n\nShe turned around and began to walk briskly down Sunset when she heard the toot of a car horn. Mandy looked around and saw Max smiling from the driver's seat of a vintage white convertible he'd parked twenty feet away.\n\n\"Hay Baby.\" He called.\n\n\"Max.\" Mandy beamed turning and approaching him unsteadily on her 6 inch high stiletto heels.\n\n\"Way to go Max, where did you get the wheels?\"\n\n\"Jump in Baby.\" He replied flashing that dazzling smile at her. \"I'll tell you all about it.\"\n\nMandy run to the other side of the car, climbed in and with a loud screech of rubber against tarmac they were off.\n\n\"This baby really moves.\" Max said as he pushed his foot hard on the gas; the indicator quickly tore through 60 mph.\n\n\"Slow down.\" Mandy said above the noise of the engine; she was sinking her fingernails into the car seat as the scenery ahead flew by in a dusty blur.\n\n\"Pease, slow down or you'll kill us both.\"\n\n\"Relax.\" He shouted back taking his eyes from the road for a second. \"Just enjoy the sensation of speed.\"\n\nThe car flew through the city on the main drag out of town; eventually leading to the desert and what became a dirt road.\n\nSoon the wheels were kicking up a dust cloud in their wake and the car slowly came to a halt in what seemed like the middle of nowhere.\"\n\n\"Where the fuck are we max?\" Mandy asked looking around unimpressed. \"I've got dressed up for nothing.\"\n\n\"You sure have a way with words.\" He replied with a smile.\n\n\"What do you expect.\" She replied looked about and not seeing a person or a house in any direction.\n\n\"You asked me out for a meal and I took a lot of time getting ready; I shouldn't have bothered.\"\n\n\"Don't be like that.\" He laughed. \"We can eat later, I just thought you'd enjoy a ride outside\n\ntown for a while; you know, in the country.\"\n\nMandy pursed her lips remembering that she hated the country having spent most of her life in it. This, she thought, was typical of Max; juvenile and self centred. Max pressed a button and the front seats began to recline.\n\n\"Don't you like the car?\" he asked.\n\n\"I guess so,\" she smiled laying back and looking at him.\n\n\"You have to admit.\" He continued. \"This is one beautiful place?\"\n\n\"If you say so.\" She replied looking about briefly\n\n.\n\nThe rough flat countryside seemed so desolate and totally deserted, it was a view that was hostile and fascinating at the same time.\n\n\"I used to come here with my Pa as a kid.\" Max said thoughtfully. \"This was his quiet place, somewhere he could go and think through a problem. Some people have a room in their house or a special part of the garden; well Dad had this place.\n\nIf ever life got too difficult then he'd stick me and the dog in the car and we'd head out here; sometimes we'd come in the middle of the night. I've been out here without him since he died, when I've needed to think. The place reminds me of him and being a kid at the same time. If I come here at night I can sometimes hear his voice on the wind, like he is still out here somewhere, in the soil, on the air. Does that sound mad?\"\n\n\"Not at all Max.\" she said softly. \"Did you come here after she died?\"\n\n\"You know me so well.\" He said with tears welling up in his eyes. \"I'm sorry, just look at me, blabbing like a baby.\"\n\nShe was touched by his display of tenderness and appreciated that he's brought her somewhere that had so much meaning for him. All those miles away from the people and places she was familiar with made her feel vulnerable too and this vulnerability made her feel closer to him.\n\nMax looked thoughtfully towards the sky before taking a cigarette from his jacket pocket and\n\nlighting it. He turned to look at her with a serious expression.\n\n\"There was another reason I brought you out her; beside the view and all.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" Mandy replied guessing what he was going to say before he'd actually said it.\n\n\"What's that?\" she asked nervously. Please, Mandy thought to herself, please don't do, or say, something to spoil the moment; he had a habit of doing this so she prepared herself for the worst.\n\nMax sucked in a lung full of smoke and was silent for a moment contemplating the right words to say.\n\n\"Well?\" he said pausing again. \"Do you still work in that room?\"\n\nMandy sighed loudly and shot a firm look in his direction.\n\n\"If you've driven me out here to give me another lecture Max, forget it.\"\n\n\"No, calm down.\" He smiled. \"Honest, there'll be no lectures. Just hear me out for a moment.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She said. \"What's all this about?\"\n\n\"A deal.\" Max said trying to assert himself.\n\n\"You're talking in riddles Max, be straight with me, please. What are you getting at?\"\n\n\"Oh, for Christ's sake.\" He said after a long smoke filled pause. \"Mandy, I fucking love you, I'm nuts about you, I can't get you out of my head and it's killing me not seeing you regularly. Can you understand that?\"\n\n\"We've been here before.\" She sighed.\n\n\"I know.\" He said slamming his fist down on the steering wheel to punctuate the sentence. \"I know what you do in that room and you know I'm not happy about it. I can see your bruises today and that hurts me a lot.\"\n\n\"Oh, these were...\"\n\n\"It's not important.\" He interjected. \"I know that's what you want to do and it's how you earn\n\nyour money; you enjoy your work which is not something most people can say.\"\n\nMax looked at the sky again and collected his thoughts before turning to face her again and looking at her with an intensely personal stare.\n\n\"I want you so much I have decided that if you married to me, if you became my wife, I could turn a blind eye to your work. As long as you leave it in that house and came home to me each day I could handle it. What do you think?\"\n\n\"You are joking?\" she replied with a frowning grin; quite flabbergasted by the suggestion.\n\n\"No,\" he replied squeezing his eyebrows together and frowning. \"I'm deadly serious.\"\n\n\"So you think that you could handle me doing what I do every day. Blowing you a kiss in the morning before spending eight hours blowing off guys in the office; and then coming home in the evening and doing supper; like I was some sort of secretary?\"\n\n\"As long as you came home each night, yes...\" Max replied with an earnest tone in his voice\n\n\"Max.\" Mandy sighed loudly. \"I'm not a secretary I'm a hooker. I could get fucked by a different man every day, not that I do anymore, and you're saying you could handle that?\"\n\n\"It would be hard.\" He said slowly. \"But if it meant being with you, then yes. Just try it out for a while and see how it went; at least you'd get out of that house each evening. It could become just like a nine to five job.\"\n\nShe suddenly felt very anxious and isolated out there, alone with Max in that car in the middle of nowhere. It felt like the world had ended and they were the only two people that were left on this Earth, the feeling wasn't a pleasant one.\n\nAs the wind kicked up a cloud of dust she looked out at the barren landscape in silence.\n\n\"When I was a kid...\" She said at last. \"...we had dry desert landscape all around our house just like this. It was like living on Mars, I had no friends and my life was so boring.\"\n\nShe turned to look at him and strained her face to emphasise her point.\n\n\"I love where I am living at the moment, it's the first time in my life I've had people around me, people who care about me, people who value me and respect my decision making. You're offer is very nice Max but I'm not ready to walk away and become your wife; I don't know what to say to you\"\n\n\"Say yes?\" he replied.\n\n\"I couldn't rush into something like that, anyway Max,\" she said. \"I have to think about your proposal.\"\n\n\"I understand.\" He smiled looking disappointed but smiling anyhow.\n\n\"Let me think about what you've said and we can talk again tomorrow. Shall we head back now?\"\n\n\"If that's what you want?\" he replied pressing his hand into her leg.\n\nThey both stared into each other's eyes for a moment as his fingers gently stroked the inside of her thigh. Her eyes appeared to hypnotize him and he could feel her pulling him closer and closer.\n\nMax's hand reached out and cupped the back of her head and their lips brushed against each other momentarily and she bit him softly. Their tongues met as his hand felt under her dress and touched the soft parts beneath her panties.\n\n\"Please Max...\" she whispered softly. \"...not here.\"\n\nMandy felt the hardness of his cock beneath his thin pants; it was like a warm, pulsating throb begging for attention as he pressed his groin against her thigh.\n\n\"Max, stop.\" She said confidently. It was not the request of an unsure schoolgirl, not the suggestion of an unbalanced fool or wayward child; it was the demand of a fully formed adult and had to be heeded.\n\n\"If that's what you want Mandy?\" Max replied. He coughed and sat up, placing the seats in their upright position.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" She whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his iips.\n\n\"Don't be...\" he replied stroking his fingers through her hair. \"...I will do whatever you want; anything.\"\n\nThey never did make it to a restaurant that afternoon. Leaving that empty, desolate place Mandy placed her head in Max's lap and he gently stroked her ear as he drove. The journey back to the city, and Rose Avenue, was done in silence. They had formed a special understanding that did not require small talk to give it validation; just experiencing skin against skin was enough.\n\nMandy felt happy as the desert faded into the distance and the thick dust was replaced with street –signs and tarmac; she also had a feeling that perhaps it wouldn't last. For the time being she was going to enjoy that elusive happiness and keep her fears hidden.\n\nOf course, part of her had wanted to scream YES to Max's proposal; scream yes at the top of her voice, she wanted to shout about it out the car window and have it printed in the newspapers.\n\nShe wanted to believe that it would be possible to live with Max as his wife and not have to lie to him.\n\nBut the sensible part of her make-up held her back, perhaps it was the realisation that the relationship would be built on unsound soil and would eventually come crashing down, perhaps it was just the fear of the unknown; but something gave her grave reservations.\n\nThis could be the case, she thought, because she had never been that reckless or impulsive to take a risk regardless of the outcome; except with Carter, of course. But at those times he, Carter, was there to make sure she was safe.\n\nSomething else worried her. It was the knowledge that she didn't love Max, there was some physical attraction, some desire but this wouldn't be enough to hold them together. She felt like she needed more than just someone's devotion, someone's support and gentleness. It was that something else that Max could never give her.\n\nShe also felt that no matter how much Max said he would accept her work in the long run this would be untrue. He may start understanding, not minding the long nights she would spend away, the company of other men that she kept but in the long term it would slowly eat away at him.\n\nHe would never accept her coming home smelling of another man's sexual fluids or the small bruises and that smell of lust. Somewhere in the back of his mind a festering abscess of anger would grow. One day it would erupt into a torrent of frustration and hate. That frustration, hidden in the dark corners of his ego, would spread like a cancer, slowly taking grip until it exploded in a fit of violence.\n\nThis would eventually either destroy him or her or perhaps the both of them; it was something she could never risk. The car eventually pulled up outside the house and he turned to looked at her.\n\n\"Well, you're home.\"\n\nMandy looked anxiously at her feet for a moment before saying softly.\n\n\"Thanks Max, I really enjoyed this afternoon.\"\n\n\"Don't thank me,\" he smiled tapping on the steering wheel with his fingers.\n\n\"I should be thanking you after what happened last time when I was drunk. I never thought you'd speak to me again.\"\n\n\"Don't be silly, it was nothing.\" She lied.\n\nThey both fell into an awkward silence as he tapped louder and louder on the steering wheel; giving some insight into his inner turmoil.\n\n\"Well,\" he said at last with a gasp. \"Have you thought any more about what I said earlier?\"\n\n\"You were going to allow me to think about it.\"\n\n\"Oh yah.\" He replied nervously; before smiling and trying to lighten the situation. \"Okay you think about it; but I feel we are made for each other, you know, we are soul mates.\"\n\n\"Soul mates?\" she laughed. \"Where did you get that from?\"\n\n\"I read about it in a book.\" He leant forwards and whispered. \"Lovers from another time separated by death always manage to meet again, they're called soul mates. It's reincarnation and all that shit.\"\n\n\"You are funny.\" She smiled pulling her coat on and getting out the car. \"I'll see you tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I'll hold you to that.\" He shouted as he pulled the door closed behind her and watched Mandy walk to the gate of the house. She pulled the gate open and looked behind with a smile just as he was about to pull away and their eyes met briefly. She smiled and watched him go.\n\n\"Crazy bastard.\" She said under her breath.\n\n\"Hi Mandy\" Ruby called from the office as the young woman walked into the house. \"Was that the elusive Max I saw driving that motorcar?\"\n\n\"Yep!\" Mandy replied with a coy frown. \"Sure was.\"\n\n\"Jesus. I thought you two were spitting blood at each other?\"\n\n\"That was then...\" Mandy called back as she made her way upstairs. \"...only now I'm his fiancé.\"\n\n\"Fiancé?\" Ruby exclaimed, her voice echoing up the stairwell from the office.\n\n\"Young people these days change their minds faster than an actress with her clothes on fire.\"\n\nMandy was almost at the top of the stairs when Ruby called up to her from the bottom of the stairs.\n\n\"I hope you're not going to spend a whole lot of time dithering like some teenager in love because I got a whorehouse to run and it's opening in fifteen minutes.\"\n\n\"I'll be there.\" Mandy called back cheerily.\n\n\"Just go straight to your room honey and get ready for Mr Dog...\" Ruby called back.\n\n\"...Sam's left your costume laid out up there for you. Mr Dog's already in the bar waiting.\"\n\nMandy shook her head and went past her room toward the attic and the Black room where she prepared herself for work. Sometime later she heard the door handle turn and a shadow appeared in the open doorway.\n\n\"Come in.\" she said abruptly bending a cane in her hands. \"Come now, don't be shy, shut the door, come on, come on!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes.\" Mr. Dog replied coyly with a pronounced nervous stutter.\n\n\"I will pro,pro, proceed to change if you'd kindly get my ba..ba...ba...\"\n\n\"Your bag...\" Mandy spat impatiently pointing toward a corner of the room with her cane.\n\n\"...Is there, where you always leave it.\"\n\nShe indicated towards a threadbare holdall that hung from a hook. The man grinned and pulled his face into a pathetic smile. Mandy then crossed her arms while she watched the little man proceed with his ritual of undressing, metamorphosing into his alter-ego.\n\nWatching the stick insect of a man undress filled her with both disgust and curiosity. The ritual was like a slow tango that got faster with the excited removal of each piece of clothing. The ritual had four definite stages. The first began with the removal of his thick spectacles which were placed on a nearby shelf and this was followed by the removal of his worn jacket. Then one by one the buttons of his crumpled shirt were undone and the shirt removed; being neatly folded upon a nearby stool.\n\n\"Hurry now,\" she spat with increased impatience and abruptness. Silently Mandy wondered if she was missing anything down at the bar, who may have been visiting and if she was wanted by anyone?\n\n\"Faster, you are boring me now.\" Mandy sighed loudly. She pulled back the rubber sleeve of the rubber dress she wore to glance at her wristwatch and hoped this pantomime would end soon.\n\nThe next stage of the Dog's ritual consisted of the removal of his stained suede shoes and the belt from his trousers, he then popped his fly buttons, slid his trousers over his socked feet and neatly folded them upon his shirt.\n\nThis left him standing in his patterned socks, thermal vest and underpants; ready to perform the final stage of the ritual. He would begin by unzipping the holdall slowly.\n\n\"Come now.\" She said slapping the cane against her rubber-clad leg.\n\n\"You are beginning to irritate me.\"\n\n\"Almost there, Madame.\" He replied breathlessly.\n\nHer mind wandered to her bank account and she wondered how much money she had made this month and what the interest rate was on her savings-account. She could only go through this charade with a stupid, dirty moronic idiot if she contemplated the money it was making her.\n\nMandy pondered how he could afford to spend so much on this type of hobby when he obviously didn't, or couldn't spend much on clothing; not even underwear. The shorts he wore under his pants were stained and threadbare; as if he'd worn them for decades.\n\nBlowing two hundred dollars in one night would be beyond most people; but the Dog was unlike most people. He dressed like a tramp, smelt like a pig looked like a fish and, in Mandy's opinion, had the brain of a bird.\n\nHow she wished she were now being lavished by the boring and predictable love of Max or succumbing to the vicious attentions of Carter. Now they were men who could make a woman come in their panties. Just one look from Carter did more than all the fingers and tongues in the world.\n\nInstead of being brutally aroused she was watching this snail squeeze himself into a pair of transparent plastic hot pants. Then the dog pulled on a pair of fishermen's waders that were made of black plastic before topping the ensemble with a head-covering, leather hood which had zippers over the eyes; metamorphism complete the man had become a monster.\n\nShe listened to his breathing as it was constricted by the tightness of the hood before walking around him slowly. Mandy was slapping the cane against her rubberised thigh with each step and genuinely wanted to beat this dog into a pulp. Not because this was what she was being paid to do, as part of a role-play but purely because she resented having to entertain him at all.\n\n\"How do I look, Madame?\" he asked as she faced him flexing the thin bamboo switch.\n\n\"Like shit.\" Mandy shouted bringing the cane down across his bare thigh, it left a red welt in its wake.\n\n\"Sorry Madame...\" He stuttered. \"...I should have waited until spoken to.\"\n\nShe noticed that he was looking over her shoulder at the full length mirror that hung on the wall behind them; almost admiring his reflection. When she had grown tired of hearing his breath being sucked into his lungs she whacked him again.\n\n\"Do I have your attention?\"\n\n\"Yes, madam.\" He stuttered rubbing the new , thicker red welt that the cane had left.\n\n\"Totally, Madam.\"\n\n\"Right,\" she shouted. \"Over to the harness, quickly, quickly, I haven't got all day.\"\n\nHe turned and squelched and plodded his way to the parachute harness that hung from the ceiling and once there she proceeded to ritually connect him to it via several straps, clips and harness clasps. He enjoyed the time she took totally securing him to the ropes and leather straps. When this was done she turned a huge handle and raised him off the ground a few inches.\n\nHe made a strange sight hanging there, awkward and silly; so that Mandy could almost forget that inside the layers of rubber, plastic and leather a little man lived and breathed; almost but not quite. She lifted her stiletto heel and pushed him in the harness so that he swung a little.\n\n\"You really are a filthy maggot.\" She sneered; slapping his bare flesh with the cane as he swung towards her.\n\n\"Yes madam.\" He replied. \"I am just a filthy worm and you are my glorious mistress.\"\n\n\"That's right.\" She shouted back angrily slapping the dog across his hooded face with the back of her leather clad hand.\n\n\"You are an insect who deserves no mercy.\"\n\n\"That's right madam.\" He replied as he swung away again. \"No mercy.\"\n\nMandy walked to the array of switches, canes and paddles that hung nearby and surveyed them with interest. She selected a couple of items that interested her. A long leather whip which had small sharp points inserted in its end and a long flat leather paddle that was studded with chrome pins.\n\nShe played with them while he looked on; slowly swinging from side to side in the shadows.\n\n\"These look painful.\" She whispered slowly before cracking the whip against his plastic clad butt.\n\n\"Are they?\" she shouted. \"Are they painful?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" he murmured. \"Beautifully painful.\"\n\nHe was swinging back and forth and his shadow projected upon one wall increased in size and shrunk with every cycle. His hot hood shed droplets of sweat that trickled down his chest in long, salty streaks before cascading into his rubber waders.\n\nSuspended like an evil puppet she realised that she hated this man.\n\n\"Give it to me Mistress.\" He sighed in excited anticipation. \"Now, please, now.\"\n\nMandy smashed the paddle across his chest as hard as she could, leaving a thick red line of pin pricks in the flesh.\n\n\"You dog.\" She spat with real meaning.\n\nAgain she struck out at him and again, harder and harder until he was bleeding from the wounds and blood mixed with sweat dripped to a crimson puddle below him.\n\n\"You filthy scum.\" She shouted striking him again. \"You disgusting bastard, you revolting animal, you are not fit to be called a man.\"\n\nCRACK.\n\n\"You are the filth in my toilet.\"\n\nCRACK\n\n\"The stench in the sewer.\"\n\nCRACK\n\n\"You are the bile in my vomit.\" She shouted. \"You are the vilest animal that ever ate excrement; understand? You are shit, worse than shit, shit is too good for you.\"\n\nCRACK\n\nMandy's face was now flushed red and still she wanted to crash the paddle against his face but instead stood back and cracked the whip against his butt again; causing him to shudder violently like he's been electrocuted.\n\n\"You fucking shit.\" She spat. \"You deserve no mercy, do you?\"\n\n\"No madam.\" He replied softly; in almost a whimper. \"No mercy.\"\n\nChapter 15\n\n\"Yessiree!\" Liz exclaimed as Mandy brushed past her on the stairwell. She had been dusting and doing her morning chores and was surprised to see anyone up so early.\n\n\"You sure are full of beans for 12 midday, girl. What's up, house on fire or something?\"\n\n\"No Liz...\" Mandy replied heading for the street door. \"...I got a man to meet, that's all.\"\n\n\"A date, eh?\" Liz smiled, wide-eyed.\n\n\"Well bless my soul, I thought you girls would have had enough of men without seeing them in your spare time.\"\n\n\"Not this man.\" Mandy replied with a knowing grin. \"He ain't like the fuckers you get in this place.\"\n\n\"You mean you didn't meet him here?\"\n\nMandy thought for a moment before answering, standing there with the front door ajar, wondering if she had said too much already.\n\n\"Well yes...\" she looked at the street and then towards Liz. \"...I did meet him here but...\"\n\n\"Oh get on...\" Liz said seeing the girl's anticipation. \"...you're just working off the books\n\nain't cha, either that or your man's getting some ass for free.\"\n\nMandy threw her a puzzled look and then left the building shaking her head.\n\nStanding on the cold doorstep Liz's words rang in Mandy's ears. She felt like turning and going back to have it out with the old cow but decided it wasn't worth the hassle. Was that all she was doing, she wondered, working after hours and giving Max a free service.\n\nShe pushed the thought out of her head but it lingered there like a nagging doubt, Was it Max's plan to enjoy her company for nothing and all this talk of love and marriage was just bullshit. She crushed the idea once and for all and went to their pre arranged meeting point.\n\nLater that afternoon, she pushed the half eaten meal away from her, and looked across the table in a quiet restaurant on the other side of town. He noticed her pensive look and smiled quizzically.\n\n\"Tell me a little about yourself.\" He said with a fork in his hand. \"What dark secrets does your past hold?\"\n\n\"Nothing to tell really,\" she replied looking at the candle burning brightly in the centre of the\n\ntable. Looking at that flame made her realise that she didn't really want to explain anything, not there and then, the past was something that should be forgotten. She was a different person now, a woman about town, back then she was just a bare footed country girl who knew nothing. Whereas now she had money, clothes, friends; she was a different person, a professional woman.\n\nThe past lurked like an uncomfortable cupboard that she only wanted to reach into occasionally. Sometimes she worried its contents would jump out and expose her as a fraud, just a stupid country girl trying to be sophisticated. So she tried to keep that particular door locked.\n\n\"Are your parents still alive?\" he enquired lifting a wine glass to his lips elegantly. She could see how at ease he felt in this place and although she felt different to the girl who she was, places like this had a habit of disempowering her.\n\nShe looked at that twinkle in his eyes and wondered if it would still be there if her knew her father had raped her mother. That she was the product of that violence and that her mother scrubbed floors like a happy nigger; as the master had always called her.\n\nWhat was that smile about, she pondered, did he realise that there was nothing of substance under her seventy dollar frock; just the illegitimate daughter of a country house maid? Just a whore who'd made a pile of cash fucking every pervert who could afford it; was that what the smile was about?\n\n\"My father's dead.\" She said slowly. His smile fell from his face and he put the wine glass down abruptly.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have...\"\n\n\"Don't worry, it doesn't matter to me.\" She lied. \"It was a long time ago.\"\n\n\"What about your mother?\" Max asked offering her a cigarette. Mandy refused the offer and looked about the room briefly. The place was empty except for a couple of business people having some lunch.\n\n\"She's dead too.\" Mandy lied again. She looked up at him and forced a smile.\n\n\"How about you...\" She asked enthusiastically. \"...I bet you have some real fine folks, rich an' all with a big old house in Florida?\"\n\n\"Not quite.\" Max replied pushing his eyebrows together as he wondered where she had got that idea.\n\n\"My family are very boring; far too boring to discuss in such beautiful company. \"Oh...\", he smiled blowing cigarette smoke across the room.\n\n\"...They live in Montana, on a farm.\"\n\n\"Shit!\" she laughed. \"You're just a low born country boy like myself.\"\n\n\"You got me.\" He laughed back.\n\nThey looked intently at one another and she wondered if his past had been as frightening as her own. Perhaps that's why he didn't want to discuss it. He watched her take a sip from her glass and sweep a stray lock of hair from her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. She was pouting those ruby red lips and he realised he loved the little bump that she had where her top lip met the bottom of her nose.\n\nHe craned his neck and leant forwards to brush his lips against hers, taking time to touch that small bump with the tip of his tongue.\n\n\"I can't get enough of you.\" He whispered in the ear she had tucked a loose curl behind.\n\n\"I want to get you alone and suck your pussy till you come hard; would you enjoy that?\"\n\n\"Max.\" she whispered back. \"Behave yourself.\"\n\n\"If you knew how hard my cock was right now.\" He said softly.\n\n\"It's throbbing like a jackhammer.\"\n\n\"What are you like?\" She laughed.\n\n\"Hay,\" A man behind the restaurant's counter shouted. \"You two, go get a room.\"\n\nThey both laughed aloud and later that afternoon they lay together naked in a nearby hotel room. The sheets had seen better days and still bore the stains of previous guests and a symphony of worn springs had creaked along to their love making.\n\nHe rolled upon Mandy and pulled her legs apart by placing his forearms under her calves and lifting. Then thrusting his hard cock inside her pussy, panting with each push, she banged closed fists upon the bed and moaned loudly.\n\nArching her back to receive him as deeply as she could Mandy bit her bottom lip and felt a giddiness rising within her body. She reached up, pinched his nipples between her thumb and forefinger and looked up into his bloated face.\n\n\"Ouch!\" He said momentarily stopping in mid action.\n\n\"That hurts honey.\"\n\n\"Pinch mine.\" She said pulling his hand over and placing it on an erect nipple. \"Go on, pinch me.\"\n\n\"No, baby.\" He replied pulling his hand back.\n\nHe began thrusting again and together they moved like savages on Vaseline; their groins slippery and shiny, oozing lubrication. She pushed up and he beat down, thumping at the groin, like pistons on a well-oiled machine; they danced together. Then breathless and panting he pushed one last time and she felt him throbbing deep inside her. The come was leaking from the bottom of her labia and she felt it drip, a sticky fluid, across her butt hole.\n\nMax fell on top of her and breathed into her ear. She was being flattened by him and gently eased him to one side waiting for his fingers to reach down and take her to orgasm.\n\nShe reached out for his hand and placed it upon her clitoris hoping that this would be all the\n\nencouragement he would need but it just lay there, still and floppy, like his dick.\n\n\"Max?\" she said softly. Then looking into his face she saw he was in a deep and sudden sleep. She pursed her lips and shook her head realising just how selfish men could be; they'd tell you anything to get into your knickers but as soon as they'd shot their load it was all forgotten.\n\nA few minutes later she was dressed and slipping on her shoes. Taking a pen and pad from the side table she looked at him before writing in big letters across the face of the pad a message that she hoped he'd see when he woke.\n\nThen she left the room and caught a cab back to the house. The message said simply.\n\nMx, The answer is NO!\n\nLater that night she was prostrate on the rack in the black room. Carter was busy connecting her to the clasps ensuring that her hands were tied at her side and her feet connected securely to the end of the contraption. She could feel the pills she had taken earlier that night, slowly entering her system, it was a hot, sticky buzz that made her feel drowsy. Now being with Carter, naked and securely bound, with his eyes boring into her across that dark room; made her feel incredibly vulnerable and perhaps slightly scared. It was so exciting she could feel her juices flowing with anticipation.\n\nHis tattoos glistened in the half light and his thick black hair hung down into his eyes. He tightened the cord clasp around her neck and started to turn the ratchet. The loud clicking filled the otherwise silent room and she felt all the clasps tense. When she was fully extended and utterly defenceless he leered at her naked body.\n\n\"Someone's been fucking you.\" He said pushing his fingers into her pussy.\n\n\"I can see you've been fucked today.\"\n\n\"Hmmm.\" She moaned.\n\n\"Shut up, bitch!\" he said slapping her clitoris with the tips of one hand.\n\n\"I need to get a better view here.\"\n\nMandy opened her eyes to see him go to the table that lay under the shelves of paddles and whips. He was looking for something and began tossing items over his shoulder as he searched frantically.\n\n\"This will do.\" Carter said at last.\n\nHe came back to her and she saw in his hands a couple of lengths of long elastic that had\n\ncrocodile clips attached to the ends. He clipped one onto her left nipple and pulled the\n\nelastic down before clipping the other end onto the left Labia minor . Then he did the same to her right breast nipple and the other side of her pussy.\n\nWhen Carter pulled the elastic her pussy lips parted and lifted her nipples into points at the same time.\n\n\"That's better.\" He sighed taking a good look into her vagina. She felt his hot breath inside her and the stubble on his chin rub against her thighs as he leant in to inspect her properly.\n\nCarter pulled the elastic cords as hard as they could extend, lifting her nipples into the air and\n\ncrating cones of her breasts; she could feel the clips digging into her flesh and pinching her\n\ntightly. Then he started.\n\nCarters tongue shot from his mouth and entered her asshole, digging deep into her rectum she let out a scream as the sensation hit her. Then he licked her slowly from the bottom of her gaping pussy to the tip of her throbbing clitoris.\n\n\"Come bitch.\" He spat biting into her and stimulating with his coarse chin.\n\nThe sensations were overwhelming as she tried to pull away but found the cords and clasps holding her tightly. The harder he bit on her clit the more his chin rubbed her hole and the tighter the elastics became, suddenly she couldn't hold it in any longer and a gush of warm juice spurted from her cunt into his face.\n\n\"That's it bitch,\" he spat as his teeth ate into her pussy.\n\n\"Come you fucker, come good; flush that other man out of your system. Tonight you are mine.\"\n\nMandy's screams of ecstasy filled the room and echoed down the stairs into the house below.\n\nDownstairs in the bar Sam stopped what she was doing and looked towards the ceiling and smiled for the first time that week.\n\n\"FIVE,FOUR,THREE,TWO,ONE.\"\n\nA tremendous roar filled the room and a chorus of Auld Lang Sine rose from the assembled gathering.\n\n\"Happy Nineteen Sixty Six.\" Liz shouted pouring drinks for everyone along the top of the bar.\n\n\"A New Year,\" said a fat Jewish man who was decked out in fancy gold jewellery.\n\n\"Deserves a kiss.\"\n\nHe made a grab for Jayne but she laughed and ducked. Next to them an aging gangster entertained a group of his cronies with tales of death and money from the old country while looking intently at Carol. She was propped up between two obese politicians both of whom had proud erections pushing their thin pants out obscenely.\n\n\"Me and the boys went down to Mexico...\" the gangster continued.\n\n\"...We were supposed to collect a kilo of coke but just ended up catching crabs from a one legged whore in Tijuana; that was some party.\"\n\nVelta was pinched on the butt by a spotty collage boy from Texas and she reacted by drunkenly slapping the boy's face; almost knocking him off his feet.\n\n\"What was that for?\" the boy whined as he rubbed the side of his face.\n\n\"He's just a spoilt brat.\" A bearded sailor grinned as he grabbed Velta on the rebound and pulled her to his chest.\n\n\"What you want is a real man.\" the seaman said rubbing a thick hand against his stained crotch.\n\nVelta smiled before kneeing the man hard in the balls laughing.\n\n\"Well, Captain Kidd, you're not him.\" The rest of the room laughed riotously seeing the sailor retch in agony.\n\n\"Forty two stitches...\" the gangster shouted in a thick Chicago accent as he stuck the dead butt of a cigar between his thin lips.\n\n\"I was lucky to be alive, I'm telling you. But that bastard paid in the end; no-one fucks with Chico Mastranormo and lives, no-one!\"\n\n\"One night a year...\" Ruby explained to a group of friends drunkenly. \"...One night a year the girls can drink what they like, take what they like and look at what happens; the place becomes a fucking monkey house.\"\n\nIn the shadows, where they could observe the room without being too noticeable, a small group stood. Carter, Sam, Mandy and Jo stood in silence watching what was going on cautiously.\n\n\"I had to stick it on the cunt.\" The gangster shouted as his friends belched with laughter.\n\n\"That blade broke in his gut, I'm telling you.\"\n\n\"These must be the most unsophisticated bunch of cretins I've ever seen in here.\" Carter whispered to Sam through the side of his mouth.\n\n\"Why on earth does the old girl let them in?\"\n\n\"Money, honey.\" Sam said softly, her eyes darting around the room taking in everything.\n\n\"Have you seen Max?\" Jo asked Mandy during a break in the noise. Mandy nodded to a dark corner on the other side of the room and Jo saw him sitting on the edge of a sofa looking at them. Max stood and walked over to join them.\n\n\"I thought you were going to leave me and my work alone?\" Mandy said as he slid up beside her.\n\n\"I just wanted to see in the New Year here, that's all.\" Max replied looking across at Carter.\n\n\"I'll leave if my company is upsetting you.\"\n\n\"Do what you want Max.\" Mandy replied taking a sip from her glass. \"Just don't get in the way.\"\n\n\"Lady Mandrax.\" Carter called. Mandy turned to look at him and saw a pill on his tongue. She went to him and sucked the small white chalky tablet into her mouth.\n\nShe turned to face Max a few feet away and saw his expression change into a fit of rage and anger, oh, no, she thought. Carter's fingers gripped around her wrist and she felt him pulling her towards the door.\n\n\"Let her go.\" Jo whispered in Max's ear, Mandy had asked her to keep an eye on the situation if he turned up; knowing how jealous he got.\n\n\"If Ruby found out you were stopping her working there'd be hell to pay.\"\n\nMandy looked back at him as Carter pulled her from the bar. His eyes were filling with tears and he now looked like a small child that had lost a favourite toy. The room was full of talking heads but her ears heard nothing, she felt blind and deaf beyond the look in his eyes. Mandy mouthed I'll be back shortly, expecting him to return a smile but he just frowned and shook his head as she left the room.\n\nChapter 16\n\nA few days later she was in that same hotel room again. Mandy didn't really know why she had taken up the invitation but thought perhaps she could end their relationship once and for all if they had time away from the house. It wasn't possible while they had so many other distractions.\n\nHe lay on the bed quietly smoking a cigarette and the smoke lit up in the thin streak of light that came through a crack in the curtain.\n\n\"Do you enjoy that man fucking you?\" Max said at last.\n\nMandy sighed and rolled onto her belly and sighed.\n\n\"What are you on about now?\" she said abruptly.\n\n\"You know who I'm talking about.\" Max replied looking at her momentarily.\n\n\"No I don't Max,\" she replied. \"What guy?\"\n\n\"That Carter.\" Max said after a pause. He sucked on his cigarette and exhaled loudly.\n\n\"What!\" Mandy exclaimed. She sat up and looked at him. \"I don't believe I'm hearing this shit.\"\n\n\"What's shit?\" Max replied. \"I'm just asking a simple question.\"\n\n\"Oh Max, you're full of crap.\"\n\nMandy began to swing her feet off the bed and look for her shoes when he reached up and grabbed her hair, pulling her back down upon the bed as he tried to climb onto her.\n\n\"Max, you're hurting me.\" She shouted as he pressed his face into hers.\n\n\"I'm hurting you?\" he laughed. \"Oh, I'd better not do that, you might enjoy it or something.\"\n\n\"Oh, fuck you.\" She spat trying to pull his fist from her hair.\n\n\"Just tell me, what is it with the guy?\" Max said tightening his grip with one hand and holding her chin with the other.\n\n\"You're hurting me Max.\" she said softly.\n\n\"What is it?\" he continued. \"Has he got a big dick, long tongue hairy ass or what? What's it like when he fucks you? It must be good because every time I'm at that house you and him are together.\"\n\n\"Stop doing this to yourself.\" She said as tears began to well up in her eyes. \"I told you before, I don't fuck him.\"\n\n\"Don't lie to me.\" He shouted.\n\n\"It's true, we don't fuck, he just doesn't want to fuck, okay; it's not his style.\"\n\n\"He's got style has he?\" Max replied screwing up his face. \"So, he fucks himself does he?\"\n\n\"You don't understand.\" She replied trying to pull away from him.\n\n\"What is it then?\" Max asked pushing his hand under her dress and grabbing at her panties. \"Does he treat you rough, that's it isn't it?\"\n\n\"Max, you are hurting me.\"\n\n\"Don't you see.\" He gasped eventually as his grip relaxed and he sat up. \"I'm trying to understand what you want. I'm so confused, I want to have a relationship with you and make you happy but I just don't know what you want. All the mixed messages are making me so confused I feel like my head is going to explode.\"\n\n\"Max, please.\" She cried. \"Don't, please do this.\"\n\n\"I mean...\" he said swinging his leg off the bed and allowing her to breathe at last. He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands for a moment before continuing.\n\n\"...why did you even come here today, why? It certainly wasn't to make beautiful love, so the only other reason I can think is that you wanted to tell me it was over.\"\n\nThe room fell silent, a tense and expectant silence which was both uncomfortable and necessary; it gave them time to figure out what they needed to say to each other.\n\n\"Can't you give it up, for me?\" he said after a long pause. \"If not, then we may as well go our separate ways. It is not worth all this heartache.\"\n\n\"It's my job Max.\" she replied straightening her clothing and looking for her shoes.\n\n\"So I guess that means NO.. Well what happens when you're old and grey and all your teeth have fallen out; when you couldn't earn a pot to piss in?\"\n\n\"Don't worry about me Max, I'm a big girl.\" She started to pull on her shoes. \"By then I'll have my own money and perhaps my own house. I'll be fine.\"\n\n\"You'll have a house and money.\" He replied looking at her briefly. \"But you'll be lonely.\"\n\n\"I might own my own working house, like Ruby's but black.\"\n\n\"What a brothel?\" he laughed sarcastically. \"Catering for the perverted. The evil perverts of this world who can't have sex unless it's deviant sex?\"\n\n\"No, I mean black as in black girls and black men only.\" She said throwing him a sharp look.\n\n\"You're so complicated Max, I can't handle you sometimes. Beside you only think they're perverts because you don't understand what they do.\"\n\n\"You're right there.\" He said quietly. \"I don't know if I could ever understand.\"\n\n\"Try it.\" She said standing and looking down at him sitting on the bed looking truly pathetic.\n\n\"What, beat you for kicks, no I don't think so.\"\n\n\"It's not like that Max, just a little pain but controlled pain, that's all; nothing too serious.\"\n\n\"Oh come on.\" He laughed.\n\n\"You might enjoy it, I do.\" She smiled. \"They call it Roie-Play because it's PLAY, play where roles are acted out. But then, if you're frightened...\"\n\n\"Who said I was frightened?\" He said standing and looking into her eyes. \"It's not that at all.\"\n\n\"Well then,\" she said heading to the door. \"Why not take a risk and try it out with me; I'll look after you, promise.\"\n\n\"I'll have to think about it; but if it means seeing you for one last time, who knows..\"\n\n\"Well,\" she said opening the motel room door and flooding the room with light.\n\n\"You know where I'll be.\"\n\nShe closed the door behind her and had to stop after a few steps.\n\n\"Fuck it.\" Mandy cursed as she looked down at the ugly welts around her ankles from her session with Carter. They had turned black and red overnight and the straps from her shoes were aggravating them.\n\nLater she hobbled to the mirrored dressing table and sat in front of it as soon as she got home; pushing a tangle of matted hair, where Max had grabbed her earlier, out of her face. It was cold in that room again and she noticed the white dresser was stained with thumb prints, lip stick smudges and that it looked decidedly filthy. She thought briefly about the previous evening and she felt butterflies in her belly wondering what Max would have said if he had been there.\n\nThinking about his face as she left him in the motel, that hang-dog expression he sometimes had made her want to slap HIS face.\n\n\"Fuck it.\" She said again, rubbing her sore wrists. She had a shower and got dressed before going downstairs to see who was around. Liz was in the hall again dusting although the house never seemed to look any cleaner.\n\n\"Morning Miss.\" Liz smiled a wide toothless grin as Mandy walked past her; noticing that her breath stank of brandy. Mandy held her hand up to her face and said hello, thinking the old woman had been raiding the bar again, leaving her to get on with her work. Walking down the stairs she noticed that the carpet was getting a little threadbare in places and that long, dusty cobwebs hung from the ceiling here and there.\n\nMandy noticed some of the silk wallpaper was peeling from the walls and when she stopped to look at the large ornamental vase she had noted on her first day in the house, it was also stained with grease and had cobwebs inside.\n\nMandy knocked on the office door and heard Ruby call from within.\n\n\"Good morning.\" Ruby said as she sat on a sofa with a trey of biscuits and coffee beside her. A long cigarette burned in a holder between her stained fingers making the room smell musty.\n\n\"How are you today?\"\n\nMandy just raised an eyebrow and sucked her teeth in an expression of discontent.\n\n\"Does that mean you're good, bad, or undecided?\" Ruby asked exhaling a lungful of cigarette smoke.\n\nShe then sipped some coffee from a chipped cup. Mandy said nothing and poured herself a coffee before joining the woman on the sofa. She looked around the room and saw that most of the objects in it were worn and slightly tattered; she wondered why she had never noticed before.\n\n\"I think I know what's bothering you.\" Ruby said at last breaking the awkward silence.\n\n\"I know a love triangle when I see one.\"\n\n\"It's not like that.\" Mandy replied making Ruby burst into laughter, this caused her to cough at the same time crating a cloud of cigarette smoke and ash.\n\n\"Don't give me that shit.\" Ruby said suppressing her barking. Her sagging breasts jumped up and down with every cough but she appeared to solve this with another suck on her cigarette holder.\n\n\"I've seen the way you look at Carter.\"\n\n\"Carter?\" Mandy smiled. \"No, me and Max are...\"\n\n\"Max, shit.\" Ruby interjected. \"I'll tell you about Max, he's nothing but a baby faced faggot and you're only indulging him coz one day you hope he'll become another Carter. He's your little project.\"\n\nShe poured more coffee while Mandy thought about this and then continued.\n\n\"You know you'll never really have Carter, that you mean nothing to him. So seeing as you can't have the real thing you're hoping to make Max into a second rate edition of the original; am I right or am I wrong?\"\n\nMandy thought about this and realised that everything Ruby had said was true. This did not\n\nmean she could agree with her and instead sat there with her jaw hanging.\n\n\"Don't worry honey.\" Ruby said taking another puff on the cigarette\n\n\"I bet half the women in this city are thinking about someone else when their husbands are fucking them. It's the way of the world.\"\n\n\"I guess you are right.\" Mandy said at last. \"I guess it takes someone on the outside to see what's really going on?\"\n\n\"That's right honey.\" Ruby replied in her thick New York accent. \"We all get confused, sometimes we all mistake lust for love, desire for devotion and we end up going for the decoy rather than the real McCoy. Don't let it get to you Kid, we've all been there in the past.\"\n\n\"What shall I do?\" Mandy asked pushing a lock of hair from her eyes.\n\n\"That's the fifty four thousand dollar question.\" Ruby said with a sigh. She thought for a while before looking into Mandy's face and saying.\n\n\"Follow your heart. Have a jolly jaunt with Max the bore and find out if he's just a substitute for the real thing and if so, let him go. Men are like busses, you wait ages for one and then half a dozen arrive at once.\"\n\n\"I've asked Max to try the Black Room's toys...\" Mandy said after a long silence. \"...you know, open his mind a little.\"\n\n\"Oh, honey...\" Ruby sighed. \"I'm not sure that's a good idea, he'll never be a Carter. Men like Carter are born mean; you can't beat a dog mean, they're born that way.\"\n\n\"I thought it may be fun.\"\n\n\"Well, be careful.\" Ruby said shaking her head. \"You know what? Here I am approaching my sixtieth birthday. I have money, a big old house, girls and maids and all; and I'm still not happy.\"\n\nShe sucked on her cigarette holder and then looked over Mandy's shoulder towards a mirror that hung on the far wall.\n\n\"I don't know why I'm still not happy, perhaps it's this fucking house.\"\n\nMandy looked at her shocked, she then realised that they all had un-for filled lives really and that the difference between her and Ruby was that she still had time to change it.\n\n\"You know Mandy.\" Ruby said at last. \"You're the first person I've ever said this too, but even I'm lonely.\"\n\n\"You're kidding me?\" Mandy said looking at the old woman intently. Seeing her there with no makeup and her hair undone made her realise just how old and frail she was.\n\n\"What about Pops and all those other admirers?\"\n\n\"Look honey.\" Ruby said in a whisper. \"I'm a woman with needs and although I'm getting on there's still a fire burning in my box, if you catch my drift. Those impotent old bastards couldn't get it up if you tied a balloon to their dicks.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Mandy smiled. \"It's like that?\"\n\n\"Yes sweetie.\" Ruby sighed. \"Momma needs a fuck.\"\n\nThey both started laughing and then Ruby's face lit up. \"See, I knew I could cheer you up.\"\n\nMandy left her in that room a few minutes later wondering if what she had said was true but it didn't matter. She felt as if she knew what her plans were and she was going to get them done with a new enthusiasm.\n\nChapter 17\n\nLights burned smoky red and cast blue shadows across the Bar room wall. The shadows flickered like beacons upon the faces of the belching assembled; mostly business men away from their wives for the night and the odd stranger or two looking for some excitement.\n\n\"Look at these whores.\" A beer gutted Italian belched into the sallow face of his Greek friend.\n\n\"Hardly any of them are fuckable.\"\n\nThe Greek smiled back and flashed a row of green teeth, his jaundiced eyes looked about to see what other meat was on offer in the room before swigging his drink back and farting loudly. Ruby swayed in her usual place at the bar, her boozed up legs rubbery and her eyes watery and panda smudged.\n\nShe looked at the fat Italian with an air of disgust before turning away to call Liz.\n\n\"Get me another whiskey, honey.\"\n\nThe Greek turned to face his Italian friend.\n\n\"Gino...\" he asked softly. \"...have you seen that cast whore in here tonight?\"\n\nHis friend knocked back his short and banged his glass on the table trying to get Liz's attention.\n\n\"One whore looks just like any other.\" He replied with a slur. He scratched his crab ridden pubic area and looked across the room at Velta's chest as she spoke to another punter on a love seat.\n\n\"C'ept in dimensions I guess...\"\n\n\"Ay, but Gino...\" The Greek whispered. \"...this cast whore is different.\"\n\n\"Different?\" his friend said taking his eyes from Velta's chest for a moment. \"How different?\"\n\n\"She is beautiful man,\" the Greek whispered as he looked about the room.\n\n\"Do you mean the tall black chick?\"\n\n\"No man...\" The Greek whispered through the side of his mouth. \"...I mean that cast bitch, the one with curly hair and green eyes.\"\n\nMax opened the bar door and entered the room looking anxious. He looked about and then walked to the bar taking a note from his wallet as he did so.\n\n\"Gimmi a brandy and soda Liz, please.\" He said trying to catch the woman's attention.\n\n\"Why, if it isn't Max...\" Ruby drawled raising her glass and then sipping on the glass with a lipstick smudged mouth.\n\n\"Fancy seeing you here tonight.\"\n\n\"Mandy invited me.\" He replied trying not to make eye contact he guessed that if he did she would have known instantly that he was scared to death.\n\n\"She did mention something...\" Ruby hissed trying to act surprised, cracking the face powder into lines as she forced a smile, Ruby flashed lipstick stained teeth and added..\n\n\"She'll be down shortly.\"\n\nHe tried not to stand out too much and looked briefly at the two sleazy characters beside him\n\nbefore focussing his gaze back behind the bar. Then he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.\n\n\"Hi.\" Mandy said softly. He turned to see those bright green eyes lighting up the room.\n\n\"Wow...\" he stammered nervously. \"...You look beautiful.\"\n\nThe Greek looked around and touched his friend's arm as both of them stared at the vision in the high leather boots and short leather hot-pants standing next to Max.\n\n\"Here's your drink.\" Liz said placing a glass on the bar and taking the note he was offering. Max picked it up and the ice rattled in the glass loudly as his fingers shook.\n\n\"You look nervous.\" Mandy smiled.\n\n\"Nervous, no.\" Max replied trying to suppress his nerves and look confident. \"I'm absolutely frantic.\"\n\n\"You don't have to do this.\" She said softly with a coy grin. \"Not if you aren't into it.\"\n\n\"I'm cool.\" He lied.\n\nShe fumbled in her pocket and removed two pills and dropped one in his glass before swallowing the other.\n\n\"What was that?\"\n\n\"It'll help you relax.\" Mandy said as he swallowed the drink and pill with one gulp. Carter had given her a couple of Mandrax the previous evening and she thought they may come in handy sometime.\n\nThis seemed like the perfect occasion and Mandy hoped he would enjoy it, and cope with the sensations, as well as she had her first time. Tonight seemed as good a time as any to experiment. Mandy looked at Max quietly for a moment. There was a track on the record player that reminded her of the first time she had met Carter. The words seemed to resonate with her and the troubled voice of Billy Holliday felt full of sunken hopes and stifled dreams; themes black women deal with regularly.\n\n.\n\nSouthern trees bear strange fruit,\n\nBlood on the leaves and blood at the root,\n\nBlack body swinging in the Southern breeze,\n\nStrange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.\n\nPastoral scene of the gallant South,\n\nThe bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,\n\nScent of magnolia sweet and fresh,\n\nThen the sudden smell of burning flesh!\n\nHere is fruit for the crows to pluck,\n\nFor the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,\n\nFor the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,\n\nHere is a strange and bitter crop.\n\n\"Shall we go upstairs?\" She said softly. She felt confident that tonight would be a triumph for her and for Max. She was once a novice but was now a teacher, she was the darkness that would overcome his light. She felt like a scorpion and Max was her prey; that thought excited her, it throbbed within her like a beating drum; passionate and deadly. Putting herself into a dominant frame of mind she imagined Max as her victim, no longer a lover but an object who's only purpose was to give her pleasure and obedience.\n\nShe looked into his eyes and she recognized no tenderness, only suffering, no beauty only agony waiting for release. He was entering her world of slavery where she was his master; for one night only.\n\nMandy glided him towards the door like a butcher leading a lamb for the slaughter. His face was frozen in a mask of fearful expectation and this delighted her. When they reached the door it appeared that all eyes were upon them, all minds fixed upon their terrible hopes. In reality only Ruby and Sam watched them go with some reservations; the Greek shrugged and looked around for another cunt to buy.\n\nSam had been watching them talk ever since he arrived. Her acutely perceptive intuition aware that Mandy's mood was somehow different to how it is generally. There was something that she couldn't quite put a finger on that worried her about the arrangement Mandy had arranged.\n\nIt may have been the way she had been talking to Max, or the way she held her shoulders back too stiffly; or it may have been his reluctance which worried her. Whatever it was, Sam was going to creep up to the attic after a while and keep a close eye on them. Sam had only felt this way once before and it was the night Carter had taken Lorry to the Black Room.\n\n\"Hay Mandy?\" Max called when they got to the bottom of the stairs. She tried not to answer him as this would bring her out of character and it would have spoilt the whole experience for them both.\n\n\"Hang on will you?\" he called again. \"I want to say something.\"\n\nShe huffed and turned to face him, her expressionless face giving no indication of her inner frustration. She expected him to say something but he just looked back at her in silence.\n\n\"What Max?\" she said, eventually; feeling the character leave her totally.\n\n\"Did you want to say something?\"\n\n\"Yep.\" He stuttered. He looked at her and then the floor and then the walls and the ceiling before saying softly.\n\n\"I don't know if I can go through with this.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" She said sharply. \"Let's go back to the bar and you can go home.\n\n\"Don't be like that.\" He said softly.\n\nShe looked so beautiful to Max that just standing on the stairwell, away from all those people, alone with her like that; may have been worth all the pain to come. She flicked away a loose part of her hair so it wouldn't get in her eyes and pierced him with that bright green glair.\n\n\"What's wrong Max?\" she asked tenderly breaking into a fake, reassuring smile.\n\n\"I don't want to hurt you.\" He said quietly.\n\n\"I'm not sure if I want you to hurt me either.\"\n\n\"Then come with me and say nothing.\" She said firmly.\n\n\"I promise not to hurt you. You'll be safe with me. If there are any risks, I'll take them, okay?\"\n\n\"Okay.\" He replied like a small child. She turned and led the way again and although he\n\nstill felt uneasy, he was prepared to give this a go; just to spend some intimate time alone with her. While he was with her no one else would be; surely that was worth some discomfort.\n\n\"We'll try a little role play, you know Master and Slave...\" Mandy whispered as she took his cold hand and led his up to the next landing.\n\n\"...then we could change roles if you want; it'll be fun, I promise.\"\n\nAs they stood outside the Black Room she felt his hesitation grip her fingers tightly. Mandy reached inside the door and flicked on the light switch flooding the room in a dim red and green hue. They stepped inside and she closed the door behind them. Like two magnet they immediately fell into each other's arms and she felt him reach around her to hold her tightly; it was not the game she wanted to play but this was Max so she gave into his attentions.\n\nThe Mandrax was hitting her brain now and her vision became a little unfocussed but she wanted to ensure he relaxed and enjoyed their time together; so, completely out of her usual character, she kissed him and thrust her tongue into his mouth.\n\n\"Hmm,\" he sighed. \"I feel really funny. Good funny, I can't explain.\"\n\n\"Just relax.\" She whispered reaching down and unzipping his pants; she could feel his hard cock under the soft fabric bursting to be free and she rubbed the palm of her hand against it momentarily before pushing the pants to the floor.\n\nHe kicked them off with his shoes and she slid her hand under the soft fabric of his underwear, touching that damp patch of pubic hair at the base of his hard cock. She pulled it into a proud position and rubbed it up and down gently before falling to her knees and pulling his underclothes down.\n\nShe was level with his navel and Max's hard cock stood like a flag pole under her chin. She looked up at him before slipping the tip of his cock into her mouth, massaging the ridge under the glans with her tongue before sucking the whole cock deep into her throat.\n\n\"That's fucking beautiful.\" He sighed. Mandy cupped his tight scrotum and ran her fingers up and down the inside of his leg as he swayed above her slowly.\n\nMax reached down and pulled off her top so that she was bare from the waist up. The sight of her sucking his cock made the passion within him rise like a fire in his belly. She could feel him pushing into her now and had to stop; looking up at him.\n\n\"You're not gonna come yet.\" She smiled. \"It would spoil things.\"\n\nHe smiled back and she stood, taking his hand in hers she led him across the room to a piece of equipment that she was familiar with.\n\n\"Put your feet together.\" She said as he undid his shirt and slid it off his shoulders.\n\nMandy looked at his body, he was about six feet tall with broad shoulders and a flat stomach. His chest muscles were not as developed at Carter's and he didn't have the tattoos; but he was still well defined, nice to look at.\n\nHis pubic hair was a soft light brown mound around his long thick cock and had a little path of soft down that rose up to his navel. Other than that Max had no hair on his body, even his legs seemed as soft as her own although she did notice that around his ankles more thick blonde down sprouted.\n\nMax placed his feet together and she strapped them with a short leather clasp.\n\n\"Arms up.\" She said pushing his forearms toward the ropes that hung from the ceiling.\n\n\"What's this?\" he asked gingerly. \"I was really enjoying what you were doing; but what's all this about?\"\n\n\"Put your arms up.\" She said abruptly. Max did as he was told and she connected his wrists to a cross bar that hung from the ropes. Then she turned a lever and the crossbar lifted his\n\nbody from the floor. When he was swinging freely she walked back and started to run her nails over his chest.\n\n\"Do you feel helpless?\" she said as her nails reached down to his balls and under them. She ran her nails down the inside of his legs and back up over his balls.\n\n\"Do you feel scared?\" she said softly giving him a fixed, intense glair.\n\n\"Fuck,\" He snapped as her fingers probed his ass. \"That feels really funny. I'm not sure if I like it.\"\n\nMax looked at her and in the semi darkness with the chemical in his blood she appeared like someone else entirely. She was someone he didn't recognise. He saw her turn and reach out for something laying on a nearby shelf before stepping back into the light with a paddle.\n\nIt was flat leather and around four inches wide. She bent it between her fingers and looked at him wickedly.\n\n\"Oh come on.\" He said with a half smile. \"What are you going to do with that?\"\n\nMandy said nothing and just tapped the tip of his cock with the paddle.\n\n\"Ouch!\" he shouted. \"That hurt.\"\n\nMax's cock was shrinking away from her and she thought she was losing him.\n\n\"Okay.\" She sighed. \"Try this.\"\n\nShe put the paddle down and twisted the frame that he was on until he was hanging upside down, inverted, with his feet in the air and his head almost at floor level. Then she looked down at his face and laughed.\n\n\"Very funny...\" He said looking up at her. \"...and what's this supposed to do?\"\n\nShe wiggled her hips and unzipped her hot pants before pushing them down past her knees and then over the top of her boots.\n\n\"That's better.\" He said being perfectly level with her pussy. She pushed her pubis into his face and Max found that he was at just the right height to eat her. Having the chemical laden blood rushing to his head and her pussy in his face aroused him greatly. She saw his cock twitching again furiously and she placed it back in her mouth.\n\n\"Hmm.\" He slurped as he pushed his tongue between her lips and tasted the juices there.\n\n\"This is more like it.\"\n\nMax looked up and saw between the two mounds of her breasts his cock going into her mouth, it was a sight that filled him with passion and although he couldn't thrust with his hips he felt his thighs go tight as she pressed a finger into his ass.\n\n\"Go on Baby.\" Mandy whispered as his cock rubbed against her cheek. \"Eat my cunt.\"\n\nJust as he was about to come she reach out and pressed a small switch that automatically undid his clasps. Max fell from the frame into a crumpled heap sprawled across the floor.\n\n\"You bitch.\" He shouted with a slurred smile. \"I was enjoying that.\"\n\n\"There's plenty of time for enjoyment.\" She hissed. \"Now you do me up.\"\n\nShe helped hi stand and led him across the room to where the rack was situated. It stood there majestically like a well made piece of furniture in the reddish, green glow from the dim lamps.\n\n\"I'll lay down and you can clamp me, okay? I will instruct you. \"\n\n\"Okay.\" He smiled.\n\nMandy lay on the rack bed and pulled her legs wide apart before allowing him to clasp them at the ankles in this unnatural position. He then strapped her wrists tightly at her side before placing the final clasp around her neck.\n\n\"Feel free to enjoy yourself.\" She said as he slowly adjusted the collar under her chin.\n\n\"Turn that ratchet.\"\n\nMax did as he was told and found it strangely erotic being able to look down at her strapped up like that. His head was filing with the strange sensation of chemical arousal; a bizarre feeling which shot up and down his spine like lightening.\n\nClink-clink-clink-\n\nThe slack on the collar began to tighten as he looked at her breasts and the soft mound of pubic hair rising like an airstrip above her pussy; his cock began to get very stiff with chemical thunder.\n\n\"Tighter.\" She moaned.\n\nClink-clink-clink\n\n\"Tighter.\" She gasped again. Max did as he was told and turned the handle three more times. Her face flushed red and sweat dripped in fine strands down her clear, brown shin from the tips of her curls. She closed her eyes and sucked air into her lungs, unaware that the neck clasp had been incorrectly placed.\n\nMax was eager, from the other end of the table, to push his throbbing cock into her pussy and adjusted the leg mounts so her ankles were slowly pushed apart. Touching her furtively and seeing her pussy gaping wide meant he couldn't resist pushing his hard cock into her.\n\nMax closed his eyes and felt her tight cunt grip his cock as he slid up to her pubic bone. Now that her legs were pulled so far apart he was able to really get some depth into each thrust and it felt good to push as deeply as he could.\n\nHe could feel her vaginal muscles clamping down on his cock and her juices flowing over his dick as he pushed in and out slowly. Placing his hands behind her hips Max pulled her towards him and thrust deeper. It was impossible for him to stop as the violent chemical diversions built within\n\nhis cock; he could feel an explosion brewing.\n\nPulling her towards him Max felt her struggle and thought he heard her say something but he didn't respond to it or care. He was lost in that divine moment of pleasure she had said he's experience.\n\nMax was pushing in and out and pulling her hips up to meet him; frantically building up into a climax. He heard that sound again gurgle from her quivering red lips. What was she saying, was it something about a colour, but was unable to stop; nothing was going to prevent him fucking her cunt until he exploded inside her.\n\n\"Ahhhhhhhhhh.\" Max screamed as hot spurts of come spat from his throbbing dick like a toothpaste tube that had been stamped upon. He fell forwards and his head came to rest on her chest between her breasts. He lay there, on top of her hot breasts for a moment panting wildly as he felt that warm liquid leak between her legs.\n\nThen he noticed that he couldn't hear anything. The room was silent but it was an un-natural silence that suddenly filled him with dread. He really could not hear anything and he held his breath to ensure it wasn't an illusion.\n\n\"Did you enjoy that?\" he asked simply. Pushing off with his hands Max stood and withdrew looking down at her face Max noticed that Mandy's tongue was poking out of her mouth in an unnatural and odd manner which froze his blood instantly.\n\n\"Mandy?\" he said concerned by her expression.\"Come on babe, stop messing around.\"\n\nHe walked along the frame to her face and looked down, her eyes looked strange, glassy and empty.\n\n\"Baby?\" he said softly. He was filling with terror looking at that lifeless and contorted face. He reached out and pressed the release that made the ratchet spin freely.\n\nShe crumpled as the cords and clasps slackened and he frantically began to untie the clasps, buckles and straps so he would be able to move her freely.\n\n\"Come on baby, don't do this to me.\" He said, slapping her face and panting in a growing sense of heightened anxiety.\n\nShe was lifeless and malleable to the touch as Max lifted her head and placed it on his lap. A stray lock of hair was in her eyes, he pushed it to one side and stared at her speechless.\n\n\"Come on baby, stop messing around...\" He whispered pulling her body towards him and holding her close.\n\n\"...You know I love you Mandy, I've always loved you. I never wanted to hurt you, I never wanted to do this...\"\n\nHe pulled her up and felt her still warm body press into his naked flesh as her limp arms fell at his side. He had killed her, Max thought, taken her life when she had so much more to do in this world.\n\nHe looked up to the ceiling and a strange cry filled the room. It was an animal cry, like a wolf baying at the moon, if filled the hall outside the room and flooded down the stairs. In the bar Ruby stopped\n\nWhat she was doing and looked across at Sam; they had both heard similar cries before and knew it meant trouble.\n\n\"No!\" Max screamed in a long emotional howl, filling the house with the sound of his grief.\n\nThe howl became a scream and the scream became the wail of police sirens ringing out in the night.\n\nEpilogue\n\nThe long black limo rolled down the road at a slow and steady pace. It was an overcast day and a veil of drizzle ran down the closed, tinted windows. The driver looked ahead and paid no attention to the two soberly dressed women seated behind him. It was just another day, another hire, another funeral.\n\nBoth women were dressed in expensive black raincoats and they wore veiled hats that covered the redness in their eyes, peering out of their respective windows in silence, remembering when things had been different, better.\n\n\"Are you sure about selling the house?\" Sam said softly without taking her gaze from the passing stone monuments that flashed past the tinted windows.\n\n\"Yes.\" Ruby replied. After a pause, a pause in which her thoughts were filled with memories of green eyes and vivacious looks she added.\n\n\"Things like this can kill a business stone dead. Shit, I didn't mean it like that.\"\n\n\"I understand.\" Sam replied. \"What with all the publicity; it'll never be the same.\"\n\nSam thought about what had happened since \"the incident\". All the questions from the police and the media, how they had been camped outside the house for days on end photographing everything and everybody, even the milk being delivered.\n\n\"What are you going to do now?\" she asked looking at Ruby briefly.\n\n\"I don't know Kid...\" she replied wringing her leather gloved hands briefly.\n\n\"I'm getting too old for this game; Pop's has asked me to marry him of course.\"\n\n\"Congratulations.\"\n\n\"Don't rush out and buy us a toaster.\" Ruby replied with a small smile.\n\n\"I've had it with men. I'll pay the girls off and then sit on my rocks for a while, incubate them a little; settle down and buy a small place in another town.\"\n\nRuby turned round and reached out to take Sam's hand in her own.\n\n\"You'll come with me I hope?\"\n\nThey made eye contact and Sam caught sight of the driver looking at them in the rear view mirror. Seeing that glare of hers filled him with fear and his eyes fell back on the road immediately.\n\nSam reached out and squeezed Ruby's hand in her own for a moment before whispering.\n\n\"You know I love you.\" Sam whispered softly. She even managed an expression which may have appeared like a smile from a distance.\n\n\"I'll never love anyone else.\"\n\nRuby nodded and looked back out her window.\n\n\"What's gonna happen to him?\" Ruby asked after a short pause. Her gaze fell on a particular passing monument and a shudder rocked her visibly. The sight of a child's statue atop a well maintained tomb was just too much for her. Sam thought for a long time before answering the question Ruby had asked.\n\n\"I guess there will be a trial. They're not charging you with anything are they?\"\n\n\"No.\" Ruby hissed. \"The chief was very sure that he didn't want me anywhere near the court.\"\n\n\"Friends in high places eh?\"\n\n\"Something like that.\"\n\nThe service was short and sweet only mentioning the death as a tragic accident which could not have been foreseen. The coffin was carried to the grave by four unsmiling graveyard attendants and lowered into the ground slowly; with the respect and grace one expects when the promised tips are good.\n\nRuby had seen the frail old woman in the church during the service but didn't know who she was. She was now at the graveside in a worn black coat wiping a tear from her eyes with a small white hankie. She studied her lined face and thick fingers with interest, clearly worn from years of hard work, before stepping over to the woman; once she had thrown the rose she carried in on top of the coffin.\n\n\"You must be Mandy's mother?\" Ruby said as the old woman turned her red eyes up to face her. \"Mandy spoke about you a lot. She loved you very much, I'm so sorry...\"\n\n\"Oh, please Mam,\" The old woman replied dabbing the hankie against her nose.\n\n\"Don't you worry about my little girl; death waits for us all and when the lord wants you, you just have to go. She's in the arms of Jesus now\"\n\n\"Quiet.\" Ruby replied.\n\n\"My little girl left home and made something of herself...\" the old woman continued with tears welling up in her eyes.\n\n\"...Every week a letter would arrive with a few dollars in it for me; she was such a good girl. Tell me, did she work for you?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Ruby replied simply. She looked into the grave and shook her head thinking of that wasted life and withered dreams. Ruby looked at the old woman and saw herself reflected back; the terrible and inevitable scars of age and grief visible in that worn face.\n\n\"Such a grand lady.\" The old woman remarked looking at Ruby's coat and shoes with interest. \"When the police came and told me, told me she was gone, I was surprised. Mandy never went anywhere without letting me know. She was thoughtful like that.\"\n\nRuby reached into her Hermes handbag and withdrew a thick envelope. She held it out to the old woman. The old woman took it hesitantly from diamond-bejewelled hand and peered within.\n\n\"Holy Jesus!\" The old woman exclaimed upon seeing the thick wad of notes that the envelope\n\ncontained.\n\n\"What is this?\"\n\n\"It's seven thousand dollars.\" Ruby replied softly as she closed the woman's fingers around the envelope.\n\n\"It belonged to your daughter and I'm sure she would want you to have it.\"\n\n\"Oh, Lord.\" The woman cried clutching the envelope to her breast.\n\n\"I've never seen so much money before; whatever was she doing for you to earn this much money?\"\n\n\"Oh, she was my housekeeper.\" Ruby lied. \"She was my housekeeper that's all; and I pay very well.\"\n\n\"A maid.\" The old woman laughed through her tears as she shook her head in disbelief.\n\n\"Can you credit that, earning all this money for being a maid. There's been such a lot of evil, viscous gossip about her and it was all wrong. Thank the Lord for that. Thank the LORD, my girl was a maid.\"\n\n\"Yes...\" Ruby whispered.\n\n\"She was the best, Goddamn maid I ever had.\"\n\nTHE END\n\n© David William Kirby July 2010\n\nThe Dogbreaths Publishing\n\n(from the original 91 MSS)\n\nIf you have enjoyed reading these novels please\n\nFor free, please\n\npurchase one or both from the\n\nSmashwords\n\nOr\n\nScribd\n\nstore.\n\nNo part of this MMS can be reproduced without the author's prior consent\n\ndwkthedogbreaths@gmail.com\n\nDavid William Kirby, Hackney LONDON 2010\n\nAll rights reserved\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### Parasite\n\nCopyright 2012 Jeanie Hood\n\nPublished by Jeanie Hood at Smashwords\n\nSmashwords Edition License Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nI would like to dedicate\n\nmy first novel to my son,\n\nColten Hood,\n\nand my Mom.\n\nAcknowledgments\n\nMy Mom, Jeanine van Suffelen—she patiently read every page and made corrections during the initial draft. In the end I think she read the book 6 times before we had it just the way I wanted it. I love you Mom.\n\nCarolyn Utberg-Hood—What a super lady!! She was the final editor of the book and I couldn't have done this without her input. You're awesome.\n\nMy dear friend Henderson Smith—Not only did he want to be in the novel as himself, but he helped me during the final stages with formatting, publishing, and the book cover. Thanks Carl!!\n\nSarah Rivers—Such a sweet friend of mine! I asked her if she would read my novel and give her honest opinion. Much to my surprise, she read it in three days. WOW!!! My target audience is Young Adult, so her opinion was very important to me. Thanks Sweety!!\n\nPROLOGUE\n\nThree year old Jackson runs to his Daddy and gives him a great big hug. \"Night Daddy.\"\n\n\"Good night little buddy, sleep well.\"\n\n\"I will, Daddy.\"\n\nBecky and little Jackson disappear into the tent while Thom throws some more logs on the fire. Within a few minutes, Becky comes out of the tent, zips it up, and takes her normal place sitting between Thom's legs in front of the roaring fire. Tonight will be their last night at Katherine's Gorge before they return home to Perth after a seven day vacation. The night is perfect and thousands of stars are suspended in the black sky.\n\n\"I wish we could stay longer,\" Becky says looking up at Thom's chin.\n\n\"Me too, but we need to check on your Mom before I go to work on Monday.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know. I'm glad we've decided to spend the night with her because I know she gets lonely out there on the sheep station.\"\n\nThe conversation ends and they remain still cuddled, enjoying the fire and quiet. Little Jackson is a sweetheart, but he can't be quiet for longer than five seconds. Thom glances at his watch and decides it's time to turn in. Morning will come soon, and their flight for Perth departs Darwin at noon.\n\nAround 2 a.m., Thom hears something outside the tent. He sits up and grabs his boots while listening to the commotion by the jeep. He unzips the tent and sees a couple of dingoes sniffing around the back of the car. Becky wakes up and sees Thom peering out the tent.\n\n\"What is it, Honey?\"\n\n\"It's just a couple of dingoes. I'm going to scare them off. Be right back.\" He exits the tent and quickly moves toward the dingoes, waving his hands in the air, \"Get outta here dogs, shoo!\"\n\nThe dingoes don't flee like expected, but look Thom square in the eye and pounce on him. One dingo has Thom's arm in his mouth, and the other dingo has his teeth buried in Thom's right thigh. Thom yells, Becky jumps in the tent, looks outside and sees Thom flat on his back with two dingoes viciously biting him. She doesn't worry about putting on her shoes; she runs outside and starts screaming at the dingoes to leave him alone. Before she has a chance to take another breath for the next wave of verbal threats, a dingo jumps on her from behind and starts biting her back. She lifts her head to look at Thom and he is motionless and covered in blood. The two dingoes are dragging him away from the campsite and there is nothing she can do about it.\n\nThe only thing going through her mind right now is her son; he is alone in the tent. She needs to get this dingo off her back, but she can't get up because the dingoes have ripped her shoulder blade muscles and rendered her arms useless. Out the corner of her eye, she spots the two other dingoes coming toward her. She feels a sharp pain in her neck, her head turns to the side, and she can't move it at all now. The dingoes have bitten her head almost completely off.\n\nLittle Jackson is still fast asleep in the tent when the smallest of the three dingoes goes inside the tent. There is crying and screaming, \"Daddy, Daddy.\"\n\nSilence...\n\nChapter 1\n\n...seven days earlier\n\nDay 1\n\nI slowly open my eyes only to see total darkness. It is pitch black and I can't see anything. I feel a little woozy like I have been drugged. I open and close my eyes rapidly trying to clear my head. I am tied to a tree, bound at my feet, midsection, and neck. I try to scream, but I can't. Something is tied around my mouth, like a handkerchief or a scarf. As I struggle to get free, I hear something coming from the darkness right in front of me. THEY are coming, I hear the twigs breaking on the ground and I can just sense it...getting closer.\n\nI jump as I awaken from the dream to realize that I have fallen asleep on the airplane. The turbulence is bouncing the airplane around a bit and the Captain has the seat belt sign on so we can't move freely about the cabin. I put my head back against the seat and start smiling because I am remembering my wedding, the wedding that happened about 28 hours ago. I am here on this airplane with my new husband Derrick, bound for Australia.\n\nWe have always dreamed of visiting Australia and thought it would be the perfect place to spend our honeymoon. There are so many wonderful places to explore; I seriously don't know where to begin. So, I've focused of the Northern Territory and the western part of the country. Kakadu National Park, Ayers Rock, Purnululu National Park, Litchfield National Park, and Wolfe Creek Meteorite Crater are just a few of the places I want to go. We will rent a place in Alice Springs and fly to Perth for the final leg of the trip. There are a few spots around there I want to visit before we fly back to the United States. Trip duration is scheduled for four weeks.\n\nDerrick would like to identify and catalog some of the most venomous snakes in the world, and quite a few of them are located in Australia. We decided that hiring a guide would be the best and safest option for us since we have never been there before. Not only do we want a good guide, but we want one who knows a thing or two about snakes. Derrick is a Zoologist and amateur Herpetologist back home at the St. Louis Zoo.\n\nThe Captain comes over the airplane speaker, \"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We should be landing in Darwin in about 20 minutes and would like to thank you for flying with us today. Enjoy your stay here in Australia and we look forward to you flying with us again.\" I know the flight attendant will be coming around in a few minutes to check everyone's seat, so I might as well upright my seat now.\n\nI turn my head, glance out of the window, and there is Darwin looking as\n\nbeautiful as I anticipated. The skies are clear and the ocean is a breathtaking turquois blue with sugary white beaches. Final approach is taking us just to the left of downtown Darwin. I can see the tip of Darwin off in the distance fading into the bay. It is just gorgeous. I see the flaps extend as the pilot starts to slow the airplane down so he can lower the landing gear. I reach over and grab Derrick's hand and can't believe we are almost here and about to start an adventure of a lifetime.\n\n\"Derrick, look at the water. It is so blue.\"\n\n\"I know. It's unbelievable!\"\n\nHe gives my hand a soft squeeze and says, \"I love you, Mrs. Kobi Reed.\"\n\n\"Ooh, I like the sound of that...Mrs. Kobi Reed. It's got a nice ring to it.\"\n\nThe flight was unbelievably long and very tiring. I feel like a zombie getting out of my seat, gathering my belongings and heading down the aisle for the exit. My legs feel heavy and stiff, but I know we need to walk to baggage claim and collect our mountain of suitcases. We had to pack for a variety of climates because we will be in the mountains and the desert. Finally, all the bags show up, so we head over to the car rental company and pick up the SUV we have reserved for the trip.\n\nWe are both starving, so we leave the airport and head straight for Hanuman, a restaurant known for its Thai and Indian cuisine. Darwin has a very tropical climate this time of year, with warm, pleasant temperatures in the mid 80's. After a late lunch, we head to the hotel, check into our suite, unpack the essentials, and decide to rest for the remainder of the day. It is early afternoon in Darwin, but my internal clock is telling me something different. I don't think I am going to have any trouble falling asleep. In fact, I'll be surprised if my head even hits the pillow before my eyes close.\n\nI must have fallen asleep because my eyes are slowly opening, it is dark, and I look at the clock on the nightstand and see the time is about 11:30 p.m. I feel like I've been hit by a freight train; I am so sore--everywhere.\n\nFlying that long on an airplane, and being confined to a seat most of the time wears you down. I get up and slowly walk to the living room and realize that I am hungry. I call the front desk only to learn that the hotel kitchen is closed for the night. I guess I will have to wait until morning to eat something. Hopefully, I will be able to fall asleep again in a little while. It will take several days to get my internal clock readjusted to local time.\n\nDay 2\n\nDerrick and I wake up feeling still a little tired but excited about the day ahead. We are meeting our guide Dane at noon in a small town about 70 miles south of Darwin called Adelaide River. Dane lives just off the main road in this tiny town of 190 people, in a very simple, one story house with a windmill in the front yard--not the kind of windmills they have in Holland, but the simple kind that pumps well water. The house is a bit rundown, to say the least. The front porch sags, and the roof looks as though it may fall at any moment. The weeds have taken over the yard and appear to be consuming the house. It does have electricity with the help of a generator. There is an open shed on the side of the house with a lot of old farm equipment in it—none of which appears to be in working order. Rust is feasting on the rundown tractor with two flat tires. The rest of the stuff in there could be donated to a scrap yard.\n\nWe are getting out of the car when I catch sight of a man exiting the front door of the house. I am assuming this is our guide, Dane. He is a very tall man with strong features. He has a chiseled jaw and piercing light sky blue eyes. His hair is almost pitch black and very long for a man. He pulls it back in a ponytail which hangs half way down his back. His skin is dark from the sun and he is wearing crocodile skin boots. I wonder if he killed the crocodile himself. I'm guessing he is in his early thirties.\n\nDane invites us in and offers us a cool beverage. He seems like a great guy, and appears to be very smart. He is not a native of Australia, but has lived here most of his life. His mother married an Englishman and moved to a little town just east of Cambridge, England called Newmarket. A few years later she had Dane. But, she was very unhappy in England, hated the weather, and missed her family back home. So she packed up one-year-old Dane and headed back to her home near Darwin. Dane grew up around these parts and moved out of the big city just after his mother died when he was 19 years old. His father still lives in England, but he has no contact with him.\n\nWe decide to spend the day here at Dane's place so we can organize our trip. Dane will drop us off in Alice Springs after we have traveled around the Northern Territory and part of Southern Australia. I have a rental plane reserved, a multi-engine Piper Navajo. I will just need to fly with an instructor for a few hours before they will allow me to rent their airplane. We chose to fly from Alice Springs because it's a long way to the coastal part of Western Australia, and the territory is mostly desert and extremely harsh. It's an unforgiving environment should the car decide to break down, so we opted to fly instead of drive. Dane will drive back to Darwin and return the rental car for us.\n\nDane has acquired all of the camping gear we will need for the trip. We have tents, sleeping bags, cooking utensils, and lots of bottled water including a 500 gallon mini \"water buffalo\" that sits on its own trailer hitched to the SUV. Water buffalo is a slang expression for a large container of water shaped like a over-sized oil drum. He also has quite a collection of knives he will be taking as well as a shotgun just in case we run into trouble. The plan is set, so all we need to do now is sleep. We'll head out at first light.\n\nI close my eyes and smile because I am so excited about getting on the road and seeing all of the sights. \"Go to sleep, Kobi. This is your last night in a real bed for a while, so you might as well get the most out of it,\" I say out loud to myself. I can hear the wind howling outside. The windmill in the front yard needs oil because it is squeaking louder and louder with every gust of wind. I am lying there, humming a song, keeping time with the squeaking windmill. I can't fall asleep. Anxious and frustrated, I decide to get up for a glass of water. I am surprised to see Dane at the table sharpening his knives.\n\n\"What's the matter Dane--can't sleep?\" I ask.\n\n\"No, I am usually a little restless before I head out on a tour. There are so many threats here in Australia, especially in the outback. I am responsible for the two of you, and I always anticipate trouble; so it causes my brain to overthink everything which keeps me from sleeping.\"\n\n\"I'm sure everything is going to be fine. I'll see you bright and early.\" \"Good night, Kobi.\"\n\nChapter 2\n\nDay 3\n\nI'm up sharply at 8:00 a.m. I get cleaned up and dressed, and wake up Derrick so he can do the same. We both head for the kitchen and are pleased to see that Dane has prepared a small feast. I think he cooked everything in his refrigerator mainly because he is planning to be gone with us for a long time, so everything that will spoil needs to be eaten. We will need to stop at a store on the way out this morning for some canned goods and other essential camping food. The SUV is full of gear, so there isn't a whole lot of room for groceries.\n\nDerrick and Dane are loading up the SUV, and I decide to throw a little snack bag together with the leftovers from breakfast. It's a shame to let all that food go to waste. Our first stop is Kakadu National Park which is located about 170 kilometers Southeast of Darwin; from Dane's house it is only about two hours away.\n\n\"Kobi, are you ready to hit the road?\" Derrick yells from the SUV.\n\n\"Yes, I am.\" I call back to him. \"I'll be out in a minute.\"\n\nDane will be doing the driving, so Derrick and I will be free to look around. What a perfect, beautiful day it is today--clear blue sky and a temperature of 83 degrees Fahrenheit. We pull into Kakadu National Park about 1:00 p.m., and stop by the Bowali Visitors' Center to pay the park fees and get the latest on the monsoons and what effect they have had on the park. If it rains too much, some of the park closes due to flooding. Hopefully, the park will not be too affected by the rains.\n\nKakadu National Park is the largest National Park in Australia. It is believed that the Aboriginal people have inhabited the park for over 40,000 years. We are planning to visit Jim Jim Falls, a gorgeous waterfall that should be perfect this time of year. Dane applied for permits weeks ago to take four wheelers into Arnhem Land, which is just to the east of the park.\n\nWe arrive at the Garnamarr campground located about 10 kilometers from Jim Jim Falls. The campground is located right next to one of the most prominent landforms in this part of Australia, the Arnhem Land Plateau. This plateau is a vast escarpment covering approximately 300 miles of the east side of the park. The cliffs are near vertical and appear to be about 1000 feet high. Below the plateau there are acres of low lying hills covered in grass and woodlands. Our campground is in a wooded area, but offers a good view of the Plateau.\n\nWe decide to unload everything out of the SUV because we're planning to\n\nstay here about three nights. Dane gets to work on the shelters, and Derrick and I go searching for firewood. Wood is a little scarce around the camp site, so we need to spread out farther to find enough wood for the next three nights. We finish getting everything set up at the camp site and decide to take the next couple of hours to drive up to the visitors' center again so we can scope out the area.\n\nWe get back about 5:00 p.m. absolutely starving, so I throw a can of beef stew in a pan and heat it up. Derrick has made a huge, roaring, fire which will produce a lot of hot coals for quick cooking. It doesn't take very long for the stew to get warm, so we serve ourselves a nice bowl and grab some bread to soak up the gravy. I don't know why, but food always tastes so much better when it's cooked on a camp fire. We use the water from the water buffalo to wash the dishes.\n\nThe three of us decide to sit around the fire for a while because it is such a beautiful night. I think you can see every star in the night sky, especially out here, because there aren't any lights to distort the starlight like there is in a big city. The temperature is perfect, just a little chilled, but the fire is keeping me nice and warm. We have packed a nice bottle of Scotch and decide to break it out and share a few glasses around the warm fire. Wow, what a perfect night.\n\nDane starts talking about the Aboriginal people and some of their customs. They are a very private people with a long history, and a lot of their customs and rituals can't be discussed without a local Aboriginal person present. He assures us that we will learn more about the local people as the trip progresses. He also tells us that there are some roads, especially when we are travelling in Aboriginal country, that we are not allowed to venture off of. We have permits to drive on the highways, but leaving the roads to sight-see is not permitted. After chatting for a couple of hours, we decide it's time to hit the sack. We're going into Arnhem Land tomorrow on four wheelers, so we need to turn in early. The plan is to get up and leave around 7:00 a.m.\n\nDerrick and I retire to our tent and Dane to his. We are on our honeymoon after all, so we enjoy our privacy. It is very quiet out here under the Australian sky. I can just barely hear the water splashing down at Jim Jim Falls and it is very hypnotic and peaceful. I kiss Derrick good night and quickly drift off to sleep. Something startles me around 3:00 a.m. I sit up and listen--not sure what it is. It sounded like a distant boom and I felt a slight vibration. It almost felt as if something hit the ground nearby. I decide to poke my head outside the tent to see if I can see anything. I glance around the campsite, and everything looks normal. I throw another log on the fire and just happen to glance up at the night sky and am lucky enough to see what appears to be a falling star or a meteor. I wonder if a meteor hit close by; maybe that's what woke me up earlier.\n\nI return back to the tent and lay down with every intention of falling back to sleep, but I sit up in the tent and just listen. I notice that it is really quiet. When I went to bed earlier, I heard the typical night noises from the nocturnal animals in the trees and the insects making their usual sounds. The really strange thing is the insects are very quiet now--no chirping sounds. There is no noise at all in the nearby forest.\n\nI reach over and tap Derrick on the shoulder to wake him up.\n\n\"What's up babe?\" he whispers.\n\n\"I don't know. Listen to the forest. Do you hear how quiet it is?\" I am looking for reassurance from Derrick right now.\n\nHe closes his eyes, listens for a minute and says, \"Yeah, it's real quiet.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know that--that's what I just told you,\" I jokingly say.\n\n\"There is probably a predator walking around out there, and all of the other animals are being quiet so they don't become dinner,\" Derrick says.\n\n\"That seems logical I guess, it's just weird all of a sudden. I heard something else, like something hitting the ground and I felt a vibration. What do you think that was?\"\n\n\"I don't know, Honey. Try to go back to sleep because we have a big day\n\nplanned tomorrow,\" Derrick says as he kisses me goodnight again.\n\nI know the question was a rhetorical one, but I was hoping he would offer some kind of explanation for the noise and the vibration, but he had none. I lie back down and try hard to turn my mind off so I can get some more sleep.\n\nDay 4\n\nDerrick wakes me up about 6:30 a.m. I get dressed and go outside and find Dane getting water and food loaded onto the four wheelers.\n\n\"Dane, did you hear or see anything strange last night?\" I say.\n\n\"What do you mean strange?\"\n\n\"I don't know--it was like a far off clap of thunder followed by a slight vibration,\" I explain, \"then it got really quiet in the forest. I came out of the tent and looked around; the skies were clear. It was just weird.\"\n\n\"No, I didn't hear anything at all. We should get going. Kobi, this ATV is yours--it's an automatic. We have a long day in front of us, and I really want to get started so we can be back here before dark.\"\n\nI have never been on an ATV, so I am very excited about driving one. Dane takes the lead with me in the middle, and Derrick is bringing up the rear. The drive to Jim Jim Falls only takes about 40 minutes and proves to be even more breathtaking than I could have imagined. As we emerge from the wooded area, we get the first clear view of the falls. The waterfall cascades off the escarpment almost 700 feet into a deep pool of water. The areas around the pool are heavily wooded and almost impossible to drive through. We decide to sit on the four wheelers and admire the beauty of the falls for a while before heading deeper into Arnhem Land. From Jim Jim Falls we head east up steep hills and heavy bush. That keeps us busy for the rest of the day. After a full day of sightseeing, we arrive back at the camp right at sunset. Exhausted and starving are the only two words in my vocabulary. I get a bowl and head to the water buffalo for some clean water so I can take a sponge bath. I got really dusty riding on the trails today, so I would like to clean up before dinner.\n\nTomorrow will not be quite as busy as today was. We will take the SUV\n\ndown to Jim Jim Falls and Twin Falls for a relaxing day of swimming and snorkeling. Swimming is not allowed at Twin Falls because of the crocodiles, but Jim Jim has a real nice swimming area, and I imagine it will probably be crowded; but I don't care. I am looking forward to relaxing and soaking up some rays.\n\nDerrick and I turn in rather early because we are both really tired. Dane stays up for a while looking at his maps and plotting out our next adventure. A couple of hours later, Dane comes to our tent and wakes us up.\n\n\"Hey, you guys need to come out and see this. I don't believe it myself.\"\n\n\"What is it, Dane?\" I say still half asleep.\n\n\"Look over there towards where the visitor center is. The sky has a sort of green glow to it. Do you see it?\" Dane asks.\n\n\"Yeah, I see it,\" Derrick answers. \"What do you think it is?\"\n\n\"I don't know what could make the sky glow that color out here in the middle of nowhere. It almost looks like Aurora Australis, but we are a little too far north to see that phenomenon. I'll check with the park ranger in the morning and see if he knows.\"\n\nThe glow in the night sky lasts about 15 minutes, and then just disappears. Very puzzling! I'm wondering if it has anything to do with what I saw last night. Derrick and I go back to our tent and fall asleep about five minutes later. I'm hoping Dane did the same thing. I'm sure they will be talking about it at Jim Jim tomorrow, so we will get the scoop then.\n\nChapter 3\n\nDay 5\n\nThere is a bunch of talking and noise outside the tent. I look at my watch and it says 9:00 a.m. What in the world is going on? I wake up Derrick, we unzip the tent, and see about 20 people walking toward the Falls. They all have their towels over their shoulders, and are carrying ice chests. They are on a walkabout to Jim Jim Falls to go swimming. I guess I expected them to be buzzing about the glow in the sky, but everyone is acting completely normal.\n\nWe get to the swimming area about 10:30 a.m., and I am pleasantly surprised to find a handful of people there swimming. There are perhaps 30 people in the vicinity of the Falls. We scope out a spot to put our towels and shoes and go directly into the clear, clean water. It feels so good to totally submerge my body in fresh water. We wander over to a young couple, standing toe to toe, with their arms around each other, and say hello. They return the salutation and ask us if we are from the United States. Of course we say, \"Yes.\" They are here on their honeymoon from Holland.\n\n\"So what part of Holland are you from?\" I ask.\n\n\"We are from Delft,\" The young woman answers.\n\n\"I'm Kobi and this is my husband, Derrick. We are on our honeymoon too. We're from St Louis, Missouri.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you. I am Marina and this is my husband, Kees.\"\n\n\"Are you staying in a nearby camp ground?\" I ask her.\n\n\"Yes, we are staying at Garnamarr, back about 10 kilometers,\" Marina says.\n\n\"That's where we are staying too. Have you been there long?\"\n\n\"No, we got in late last night. Did something happen at the Visitors Center last evening? When we passed by at 10:30 p.m., there were a lot of people standing in the front of the building, including the park ranger. We stopped and asked if there was some sort of problem in the park, and the ranger assured us that everything was fine. He said that some of the campers reported seeing a green glow in the sky above the visitor center and wandered out to investigate. He said it was nothing to worry about and gave us directions to our campsite. We decided to sleep in the back of our car rather than set up the tent that late at night.\" She asks if I had seen the light, and I told her that I did see it and was not sure what it was. I mention that our guide talked to the park ranger and said it was nothing to be concerned about, so she seems happy with that explanation.\n\nAfter a long day of swimming, we go back to our campsite, change into some dry clothes, and start making dinner. Dane suggests a big can of beef chili and two day old breakfast biscuits. That sounds great to me, so I pour the can of chili in the pot and start heating it up. Dane gets the biscuits out of the car, wraps them in tin foil, and sets them near the fire just to warm them up a little. It doesn't take long for the chili to heat up. I scoop out a portion for each of us, and Dane hands me a biscuit. Oh, the food tastes good.\n\nWhile we are eating dinner, Dane suggests that on our final day here in the\n\npark, we should take the time to visit the Aboriginal Rock Art. Nourlangie and Ubirr are the most visited Rock Art locations in the country, and they happen to be located in this park.\n\nDay 6\n\nFrom the car park, it is a short hike to the Ubirr Rock caves where the famous rock art is. The art depicts certain ancestors from Dreamtime, and other animals of the region today. The art is estimated to be 20,000 years old and is a valuable, historical record of the Aboriginal people. It is believed that the Creation ancestors painted on the rock. The art has been painted and repainted for thousands of years. From the Ubirr area, Dane decides to start the Bardedjildji walk. It's about a three mile walk that rewards you with a fantastic view of Kakadu's floodplains and sandstone rock formations. On our way back to camp, we stop by Nourlangie Rock, a large outcrop that consists of three main sites: the Anbangbang rock shelter, the Anbangbang gallery, and the Nanguluwur art site. The Anbangbang shelter was used by clans travelling to the lowlands in search of food, and for dreaming and relaxation.\n\nDane shares an interesting fact about the rock art. The Aboriginal people will not give a complete explanation or interpretation of the art to non-Aboriginal people because they do not think that they have the right to know. Tourists get the public story, not the entire story.\n\nDane leads us up this very steep trail to show us a different view of the escarpment. Very impressive and massive! We arrive back at our campsite around 7:00 p.m., famished, so I start rifling through the SUV searching for something to heat up and cook for dinner, when I realize that Dane already has a big pot of something on the fire. How in the world did he get something on the fire that fast?\n\n\"What's in the pot?\" I ask.\n\n\"I'm not telling.\"\n\nIt turns out to be beef stew again. I have a feeling that I am never going to eat beef stew again after this vacation. I didn't really like it very much to begin with, but it's good, convenient, campfire food.\n\nDay 7\n\nBefore we head to our next destination, we need to stock up on a few supplies--hopefully, no more beef stew. There is a town called Katherine, not too far from here, where we are planning to grocery shop. It is also near the next place we really want to see--Katherine's Gorge. On the corner, there is a mom and pop grocery store where we stop to do our shopping. I love little stores like this because the people are amazingly friendly. We go in the store, and I immediately go to the nut section because I love trail mix. Not only is it healthy, it's convenient and easy to carry. It is a real good snack to have when you are camping and hiking. Instant energy is what I call it. We also load up the cart with cans of Spam, tuna, chicken, soup, chili, a big bag of rice, a variety of canned vegetables, and some canned fruit. Since we have no way of keeping food cold, we will not be able to buy any perishable items like eggs and bacon. I guess we will be eating cereal bars and pop tarts for breakfast instead of scrambled eggs and bacon--my favorite.\n\nTrying to find a spot in the back of the SUV for the groceries proves to be a challenge. All of the camping gear is stored in the container secured to the rack on the roof, and the back of the car is filled with our suitcases, cases of water, a fire extinguisher, and a first aid kit. Dane even has this cool shower bag that holds about 40 liters (10 gallons) of water. All you have to do is hang it in a tree, open the spout, and it becomes a mini shower. It doesn't last long, but is very refreshing after a long day of hiking.\n\nWe arrive at the campsite just before 10:00 a.m. Same routine as before--Dane sets up the tents, and Derrick and I go hunting for firewood. We decide to take a short hike while we are out searching for wood. There are over a dozen gorges to see here at Katherine's Gorge. We walk out on a trail for about an hour and decide to turn around and head back toward the campsite. We start picking up wood as we get closer and notice just off the trail a couple of dead dingo pups. We get back to camp and tell Dane about the pups, and he seems very anxious to go see them. So Derrick takes him back to the place where we saw them. Within a few minutes they are back at the camp.\n\n\"That was quick! Dane, did you see the pups?\"\n\n\"No, they weren't there anymore.\"\n\n\"Not there? That's odd. What do you think happened to them?\"\n\n\"Maybe another hungry animal,\" he says. \"Food can be scarce around these parts this time of year. There's no telling what hauled those two pups off that quickly.\"\n\nI wrinkle my forehead and try to imagine what could have taken those dead pups. Was it more than one animal, or something really big with a ferocious appetite? I don't want to think about it anymore.\n\nChapter 4\n\nDane rented a couple of canoes for us to go sightseeing in the gorge this afternoon. The park only allows a certain number of canoes to be out on the water at one time, so Dane had to reserve them weeks ago. I am certainly glad he did because the view from the water looking up into the gorge is truly breathtaking. The first couple of gorges are beautiful, but it isn't until the third and fourth gorges that the scenery becomes spectacular. The water is just as calm as it can be, and the cliffs are cut straight up to almost 200 feet. The rocks are a mixture of red and brown, with splashes of green vegetation sprinkled about. At the very top of this one particular rock wall, I see a lone tree that appears to be growing right out of the rock.\n\nWe stop paddling for a minute to soak up the serenity of the gorge. It is a\n\ntotally different perspective than from on top of the gorge looking down at the water. It's hard to get a sense of how big and deep it can be in some places when viewed from above.\n\nThere are 13 gorges in all, but we can only get through about five of them before we have to turn back. We have to be back at the start point before 5:00 p.m. to return the canoes. I wish we would have gotten an earlier start with the canoes, but this was okay. We get back to the camp and are shocked to find our campsite a disaster. Nothing is missing, but things have been moved, knocked over, and food has been opened. The tents have been trampled, and our clothes are everywhere.\n\n\"What the hell?\" Dane yells.\n\n\"Ditto that remark,\" I reply loudly. \"What could have possibly done this?\"\n\nI don't think it was another camper in the campground. I look around at the other camp sites and see only one other family in the campground. All of the other campers must still be out sightseeing. Dane walks over to them and starts a conversation. I can hear him talking from here, barely.\n\n\"Hey, how are you guys doing? Sorry to bother you, but my name is Dane\n\nand I am a local guide in this area. You didn't by chance see what happened to my camp site today did you? We came back to total devastation.\"\n\n\"No, we just got back here about 30 minutes ago and didn't even glance in your direction; I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's no problem. Enjoy your stay,\" Dane replies.\n\nHe walks back over to our campsite and stops about halfway, squats down\n\nand reaches his hand out to touch the dirt. He glances around and then gets up and starts walking towards me with a puzzled look on his face.\n\n\"Dane, what do you see?\" I yell at him.\n\n\"I see tracks of some sort. Looks like they might be that of a dog or maybe a...\" his voice fades out as he stands up. He walks back over to where Derrick and I are.\n\n\"What did you say Dane, I couldn't hear you?\"\n\n\"The tracks look like the footprints of a dingo.\"\n\n\"There are a bunch of footprints around the campsite too, Dane.\"\n\n\"Yeah, they are the same as the set over there. Whatever it was is gone now, so let's straighten out the campsite, because it will be getting dark soon.\"\n\n\"Okay, no problem.\" It is hard to tell from the footprints just how many dingoes were actually in the camp. The footprints are everywhere, around Dane's tent, our tent, the SUV, and the fire. I start by picking up the clothes from outside the tent, and Derrick cleans up all the open food containers. Dane gathers up some firewood and secures the tents again. It takes us about an hour to get everything picked up. Dane has a fire going, so I decide to get a quick shower under the shower bag before dinner.\n\nDane pulls out a couple of pans to warm up some dinner. We are all just a little on edge after what has happened, and to be honest, I really don't feel like eating. I am a little nervous, and my stomach feels upset. I don't know if it is an adrenaline rush or just plain fear that has my stomach doing flips. I take a couple of deep breaths and try to calm myself down. I open a couple of cans of hearty beef and vegetable soup and hand them to Dane to put in the pan he has resting by the fire. It should take only a few minutes for the soup to get warm. I also have some French bread we can have with the soup. I am not very enthusiastic about the dinner at all.\n\nI force myself to eat, and the food is good. I start to feel myself winding down. Dane decides now would be a good time to pull out the bottle of Scotch. We could all use a stiff drink right about now. He was really upset about the creatures but didn't want to let on to me that he was concerned. He knew once I calmed down, I would be rational and we could discuss intelligently what we thought about the situation. I appreciate his putting on a front because if I had known he was concerned, I would have probably freaked out, but he kept his cool, which enabled me to do the same.\n\nBefore we go to our respective tents for the night, Dane hands Derrick one of his knives. I don't mean a little pocket knife; I mean a knife about 12 inches long. A knife like that will only be useful in close combat conditions, but at this point it is better than nothing. Hopefully, the night will be peaceful and quiet. So Derrick and I go into the tent, zip up the outer and inner flap, and decide we will stay up for a while and talk about what happened today.\n\nAs we settle in for the night, I hear really strange yelping sounds coming from the forest.\n\nDerrick is awake and whispers to me, \"Are you hearing this?\"\n\nI slowly move to the sitting position and reach down between my feet to put my shoes on.\n\n\"Yeah, I hear it. What does that sound like to you?\" I notice Derrick already has the knife in his hand.\n\n\"It sounds like dogs yelping and growling at each other, you know, when they are fighting over scraps,\" he says.\n\nSo we sit and listen for a while, and the yelping seems to be getting louder. About this time, Dane shows up at our tent with his shotgun.\n\n\"What in the world are you doing with that thing?\" I ask.\n\nHe responds in a very calm voice as he enters our tent, \"I am protecting us from whatever is out there making that noise. I think it might be a dingo family, and if they wander into camp hunting for food, we might need to scare them off or kill one. They can be extremely vicious, especially when they are hungry or have young ones. Maybe they are looking for their young pups. Those might have been the pups you saw earlier. Hopefully, we won't have to kill one, but I'd rather have it and not need it then need it and not have it.\" I look at Derrick and then Dane and agree that it's a great idea to have the shotgun.\n\nThe yelping and howling intensify. It gets so loud that we have to cover our ears because the high pitched squeals are piercing our eardrums. The yelping is all around us now, coming from every direction in waves. We can hear sticks breaking right outside our tent and there are shadows in the trees caused from the fire and whatever is in close proximity to the flame. It is total chaos outside. I have my hands over my ears and my knees are in my chest, and I am hoping this intense noise will stop and then suddenly, without warning, it stops. The three of us don't move for a few minutes. We are just sitting there, motionless in disbelief.\n\nAfter a few minutes of silence, we figure that it is safe to come out, so we\n\nunzip the tent and slowly move towards the fire. It has died down quite a bit, so we grab some logs and set it ablaze. Hopefully, a large fire will ward off the creatures and anything else that is thinking about paying us a visit tonight. It is truly unbelievable what happened here tonight.\n\nDane has been coming to this campsite for years and has never had an encounter quite like he had tonight. He thinks it is a wild pack of dingoes, but he has never witnessed them quite this aggressive. I could tell from the shadow through the tent that the creature was walking on all fours like a dog, and had a head similar to that of a dog. But I do realize that the dim fire light can play tricks with shapes and shadows, so we really don't have much to go on. All I know is there is something out there, and I don't want to make its acquaintance in the middle of the night.\n\nWe all decide that it would be best to keep someone awake and guarding the camp while the other two catch a little shut eye. Dane volunteers to take first watch, then Derrick will take over, followed by me. The remainder of the night proves to be uneventful and quiet, which is a good thing. I know once the sun comes up we will get the car packed and leave this place. Something strange is going on here--something bad, but I can't put my finger on it. So, the farther away we can get from here, the better.\n\nI took watch at 3:00 a.m. and Derrick went into the tent to get some sleep.\n\nDaylight should be in a few hours, so I just need to keep this fire roaring and everything should be okay. I wish I had something to put my back against, because it makes me very uneasy to sit in front of the fire with my back to the wilderness. I feel very vulnerable, like something is going to come up from behind and attack me. I reposition myself so that my back is in front of the tent-- not immediately in front of it, but probably about five feet away. That makes me feel a little bit better.\n\nChapter 5\n\nDay 8\n\nIt starts getting light about 5:30 a.m. and by 6:00 a.m. both Derrick and Dane are up. I don't really want to waste time eating breakfast; I just want to load up the car and get out of here. Derrick and Dane agree, so we start picking up camp and loading the SUV. As we are taking down the tent, Derrick is surprised to find what appears to be blood splattered on the back side of our tent. The funny thing about the blood is the texture. It is a reddish brown color with big clumps or clots in it. It kind of reminds me of a small curd cottage cheese mixed in with the blood. Dane picks up a stick, gets a small zip lock bag, and pushes a small sample of the blood into the bag.\n\n\"I have a friend at the Royal Darwin Hospital Lab Facility; I am going to bring this back for her to analyze. I have never seen blood like this,\" Dane says, as he slips the bag in his pocket and throws the stick in the hot coals of the fire. Then he gets an old rag, a bottle of Windex, and cleans the blood off the tent. He throws that rag into the hot coals too.\n\n\"I have been out here most of my adult life, and something is not right. The balance of nature seems off to me. I can't put my finger on it, but something is wrong here.\"\n\nHearing Dane say the words really sends a shiver up and down my spine. I am getting a sense that something terrible is about to happen.\n\nWe get the car loaded and start to leave the National Park when we hear sirens and see a helicopter coming in for landing not far from where we are. We pile into the car and on our way out of the National Park we see a couple of ambulances on the side of the road. Dane opens the window and slows down. There is a park ranger along with the state and local police there, so Dane tries to find out what happened by asking one of the officers.\n\n\"Good morning Officer. I am a guide in these parts and am curious about what has happened here. Is it something I need to be concerned about with my customers?\"\n\nOfficer Dillon tells him that a family was attacked and killed last night by a pack of wild dogs or dingoes. The father was dragged at least 100 yards from the campsite and brutally bitten over and over. The mother was hauled out of the tent and found behind their automobile. She had been bitten in the neck so badly, that her head was almost severed. The three year old boy was still in the tent. It appears as though they were in the process of eating him because part of his stomach area had been eaten away. Something must have scared them away. Another camper found the husband and called the ranger station to come investigate.\n\n\"Oh, that is terrible. We had some visitors in our camp site last night as well. I didn't get a good look at them, but I'm pretty sure they were dingoes. They were probably the same ones. We found tracks in our campsite yesterday afternoon after returning from canoeing and didn't think much about it. Things were messed up, and empty food containers were everywhere; but an attack of this magnitude is unheard of around here.\"\n\n\"You're right. I can't remember ever hearing about a dingo attack around here. Why are they so aggressive all of a sudden?\"\n\n\"I don't know; it's weird. Do you mind if I have a look at the campsite where the family was attacked? I am curious about the footprints, if they are the same.\"\n\n\"Hang on a minute; I'll check with the crime scene investigator.\"\n\nOfficer Dillon walks over to the campsite and speaks with a tall, slender man in his mid-fifties. The two of them start walking back toward our vehicle. The tall man stops at Dane's window and leans over.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you go into the crime scene. We actually have a tracker on hand looking at the prints right now and he said they are the prints of a dingo. He was able to identify three distinct sets of prints based on paw size. If you are camping around these arts, I would be especially careful.\"\n\nDane thanks the man and Officer Dillon. Not a word is spoken in the car for at least ten minutes. We are processing what the man and Officer Dillon said to us and are having trouble believing it. Dingoes? How could this group of people, this family, all be dead? That could have been us! In my mind I keep playing the scene over and over and finally have to shake my head and push it out of my mind. Terrible!\n\n\"Derrick, I really want to go with Dane to the lab when he gets that blood tested. Do you mind putting the trip on hold for a few days?\" I ask.\n\n\"No, I don't mind at all; in fact, I'm just as curious as you are,\" Derrick answers.\n\n\"Dane, you don't mind if Kobi and I go with you to the lab, do you? We are very curious about the blood.\"\n\n\"No problem,\" he says. \"You are more than welcome to join me.\" Dane pulls out his cell phone and makes a phone call to his friend Nicola. Dr. Nicola Reese is a Hematologist on staff at the Royal Darwin Hospital.\n\n\"Nicola, this is Dane. I'm good, thanks. Listen, I have a sample of some blood I found at our campsite this morning that I would like you to look at, if you have time. It is the strangest blood I have ever seen. We are on our way to Darwin right now. Can you see us today?\" There is a pause, \"10:00 a.m. sounds perfect. See you then.\"\n\n\"How do you know Nicola?\" asks Derrick.\n\n\"Believe it or not, she and I went to junior high school together. She was one grade ahead of me. I remember the first day of seventh grade--we started the day with a general assembly of all the students. She was in the eighth grade and the President of the eighth grade debate team. I had a crush on her the entire year, but was afraid to tell her because I knew she wouldn't want to date a seventh grader. I didn't give her a chance to turn me down. I figured she was probably like all the other eighth grade girls--stuck up because she was so pretty; but I was wrong. I mustered up the nerve to talk to her and found out that she was a very nice girl. We became the best of friends and discovered that we lived within blocks of each other. We hung out all summer long and remained the best of friends through the years. Even through medical school, she managed to keep in touch with me. Good friends like that are hard to find.\"\n\n\"Was there ever anything romantic between you two?\" I ask.\n\n\"No, never. We liked each other as friends. Even when we were dating other people, we double dated a lot.\"\n\n\"That's pretty cool, Dane. Is she married?\"\n\n\"No. She is too focused on career to even date, much less marry.\"\n\nChapter 6\n\nWe get to Darwin and decide we should probably eat something before going to the lab. Who knows how long we will be there? So we pull into a little café on the south side of Darwin and order some toast, eggs, some sausage and a bowl of fresh fruit. It is really hard to enjoy a meal after hearing about the attack on that family, but we need to eat something since we have a long day ahead.\n\nAfter breakfast, we head to the lab and meet up with Dane's friend. She is strikingly attractive with long straight blond hair and brilliant, emerald green eyes. You can tell that she doesn't get out in the sun often because she is very pale. We make our acquaintances with her and get right to work. Dane has the blood sample in his pocket, so he hands it to her and she smears a bit of the blood on a very small piece of glass. A clear cover is placed over the smear and put under a microscope. She knows that she has to be very careful with the sample.\n\nShe looks carefully and long at the sample and says, \"This blood is most unusual. There is something else mixed in with this blood, and it's alive.\"\n\n\"What do you mean it's alive?\" I look at her with crinkled brows.\n\n\"Have a look. It's moving around in between the red blood cells that are left in the sample, and it's very active.\" Nicola explains.\n\n\"I see. Could it be a worm, like a heart worm or something?\"\n\n\"No, that's not a heartworm. This is something I have never seen before.\" Nicola says with a puzzled look on her face. \"I really want to run more tests on the remaining sample like a DNA test to identify what type of blood it is. That will allow me to narrow it down even further and hopefully identify the species.\"\n\nWe are all fairly confident that it is dingo blood, but how do you explain the big clots in it? Nicola said that it is going to take about three days for her to run the tests and get the results. She added that she would be working in a secure lab with protective gear until the unknown substance is identified.\n\nDerrick and I decide to check into a hotel for the night and get cleaned up. We get Dane a room right next to ours. It is probably about 12:00 noon when we get to our rooms, and to be honest, I am exhausted, and so is Derrick. We call Dane to give him a heads up that we are planning to sleep for a couple of hours, and he doesn't seem to mind; in fact, he thinks napping is an excellent idea. So we will meet up with him later on this evening for dinner and figure out what to do.\n\nThe shower is fantastic! Who knew I was this dirty? Derrick comes in right after me and has the same reaction as he steps in the shower. We are clean now and just getting in the bed when there is a knock on the door. Derrick looks through the peephole to see who it is, but sees no one. He starts back toward me when there is a knock again. This time when he looks, he sees Dane. Derrick opens the door and asks him if he just knocked, he said, \"No, I thought you just knocked on my door. When I went to look, no one was there.\"\n\n\"That's funny, the same thing just happened to me,\" Derrick replied. Dane turns around and goes back to his room. Derrick comes back to the bed. We manage a quick kiss and let our heads drop to the pillow. I had no trouble falling asleep. We get up around 5:00 p.m. feeling very rested and starving. We call Dane's room to see if he is awake, but there is no answer.\n\nDerrick and I decide to head downstairs to the hotel restaurant for some dinner and are relieved to see Dane down there already eating.\n\n\"Hey, there you are. Did you sleep well?\" Dane asks with a mouthful of steak.\n\n\"Yeah, we slept great,\" Derrick answers. \"How's the steak?\"\n\n\"Great!\" Dane says convincingly. When the waitress comes over, Derrick and I both tell her, \"We want whatever he is having.\"\n\n\"Can you bring us a couple of beers too, please?\" I say.\n\n\"So, Kobi, you seemed very interested in what was going on at the lab today. What is your background?\" Dane inquires.\n\n\"Oh, you noticed. I am a Medical Lab Technician for the St. Louis County's Medical Examiner's Office. I am not the boss or anything, just a technician. But, I do know my way around a lab.\"\n\n\"Very Nice! Do you eventually want to be the Medical Examiner?\"\n\n\"Yeah, eventually.\"\n\n\"Hat's off to you, my lady,\" as he takes his hat off and tips it in a respectful gesture. Nicola says we have to wait three days for the results so we might as well do some more sightseeing while we are waiting. Are you game?\"\n\n\"I agree. It doesn't make much sense just to sit in this hotel. So what do you have in mind, Dane?\"\n\n\"I recommend we go to Litchfield National Park, which is just south of here on the way to my house,\" Dane suggests.\n\n\"Sounds like a good idea. We'll spend the night here and check out of the hotel first thing in the morning,\" Derrick replies.\n\nDay 9\n\nMorning comes a lot sooner than I want it to. The drive can't be more than 45 minutes, and we arrive at Litchfield National Park by 10:00 a.m. When picking out a camp site this time, we are just a little more deliberate with the area than before. I would like to get a spot that is near a large rock or a hill so the tents aren't sitting out there in the wide open space. If we can set up next to some type of landform, that will make me feel more secure.\n\nDane wants to take us to Florence Falls campgrounds where only 4WD vehicles are allowed. It will be a little more secluded and less commercial than the other campgrounds in the park. It's probably going to be a lot prettier too. In the back of my mind I realize that Dane's house is only 30 minutes from here and staying at his place would be a lot more convenient, but part of the experience of Australia is camping out under the stars. The incident at Katherine Gorge was probably just an isolated incident anyway. I should stop worrying about it. Finally, after a slow, tedious drive we pull out of the thick brush and witness the spectacular sight of Florence Falls. It is just as majestic and even more breathtaking than the pictures on the internet. It is a rare, year-roud waterfall that cascades down into two waterfalls.\n\nThe falls are not very large, only about 50 yards from the top, but they surely are pretty. The campground is not too far away from the falls, so we decide to head there first and get everything set up. This park is extremely busy this time of year, so finding just the right spot proves to be a challenge. There is a small group of trees in the campground that looks like a good place to park the SUV and set up the tents for a few days. We make a bee line for the spot and start unloading the car.\n\nFinally everything is set up at the camp, so Derrick and I decide to take a jaunt down to Florence Falls. The hike is scenic and physically demanding. The mist from the immense waterfall feels refreshing hitting my face, because I got a little overheated on the hike. Derrick and I are sitting on a rock just soaking up the sun and the scenery when we are startled by a young couple running out of a wooded area. They look terrified. We try to get their attention by yelling, \"Hey are you guys OK?\" No response from the young couple at all. I don't think they even saw us.\n\nOf course Derrick and I are waiting for a T-Rex to emerge from the woods or something, but there is nothing. Quite puzzling--their behavior. Derrick and I decide after an hour or so, to head back to the campsite and give Dane a hand with dinner. No beef stew! Tonight we are having Spam cut up into thick slices served over a bed of rice. Yummy...\n\nChapter 7\n\nDay 10\n\nToday we are going to see the Magnetic Termite Mounds. I've heard from several people that these insect works of art are truly amazing. As we drive up to the viewing area I am surprised by the huge numbers of mounds in the open area. It's like pulling into a cemetery because the mounds are tall, rectangular, and slender. They look like gray, weathered headstones with no writing on them. It is rather eerie. The mounds are architectural masterpieces complete with tunnels, chimneys, and passageways. All of the mounds are aligned North to South to avoid direct sunlight in the heat of the day.\n\nAfter spending a few hours around the mounds, Dane decides he wants to\n\ntake us to a relaxing spot called Surprise Creek Falls. It is a perfect, peaceful spot that doesn't get a whole lot of traffic. It is located on the southern tip of the park, so it takes us about an hour to get there. After swimming and resting for a while, we decide to end our day with a spectacular view of Tolmer Falls, which proves to be one of the prettiest waterfalls to date.\n\n\"What a day we had today.\" Derrick says. \"What is on the agenda for tomorrow, Dane?\"\n\n\"Well, I thought we would head east to this isolated area north of my place. I haven't been to this area for a long time, but I recall it was a good area to find snakes, which might interest you, Derrick. I know you are anxious to get some pictures and study them, but don't be disappointed if we don't find all of the snakes you're looking for.\"\n\n\"Now you're talking!\" Derrick says enthusiastically. \"Most of the snakes I'm hunting are located in the southern part of Australia, but if we are lucky, maybe we'll find a brown snake.\"\n\n\"What do you mean if WE are lucky? Aren't those snakes super aggressive?\" I question with fear in my tone.\n\n\"Yes, they are Honey, but I don't plan on picking one up and having tea with him...I just want to observe and catalog.\" Derrick says lovingly.\n\nWe all turn in for the night and Derrick can barely contain himself because he is so excited. He can't wait until morning.\n\nDay 11\n\nDerrick is the first one up this morning. It doesn't surprise me to see him bright-eyed and raring to go. He's so ecstatic about going snake hunting today, he\n\ncan hardly get the camp site dismantled and loaded into the car quick enough. He is acting like a kid on his way to Disneyland.\n\n\"We can eat breakfast in the car on the way.\" Derrick says as he is running to the car. \"Come on, let's go!\"\n\nWe are probably about eight kilometers away from the main road headed toward an area Dane hiked six or seven years ago. The dirt road ends here. Dane advises us that we will need to go by foot from here on. Not a problem for us. Derrick and I both enjoy hiking and welcome the adventure. With the car secured, we head due east and start carefully hunting for snakes. Derrick is really in his element right now. This is his heaven on earth.\n\nAs we traverse the barren, desolate landscape, Derrick very methodically overturns every rock he sees with extreme caution. The brown snake is a nocturnal snake and likes to hide in small, quiet places during the day. It is the second most venomous snake in Australia, so Derrick needs to be careful not to surprise the snake. Rock after rock is overturned with no luck. We decide to take a break and have some water. There is no shade in sight, so staying hydrated is crucial. The search continues. Just ahead is a gathering of small rocks piled up one on top of the other.\n\n\"That's where I would be if I was a brown snake,\" Derrick states with such authority. \"Be the snake, be the snake,\" he mumbles.\n\nDane and Derrick go to the rocks and slowly remove one at a time. All of sudden, like synchronized swimmers, they both jump back and freeze. Derrick looks back at me and gives me that little boy grin that I love so much, and holds his thumb up to the sky. I think he found what he was looking for. Out comes the camera. Dane has the snake hook and is controlling the snake so Derrick can get just the right angle. The hook can extend out to just over three feet, and Dane is maintaining a safe distance from the grumpy snake. Derrick estimates the snake's length to be about five feet.\n\nThey put the rocks back in place as best they could without crushing the snake and continue walking east. It is starting to get very hot, so we decide to head south for a bit and loop around back to the car. After scanning the horizon for possible snake hideouts, we see what appears to be an aircraft tail sticking up in the air. This is not exactly something you would expect to find in such a desolate area. As we approach the crash site, we notice a building that is mostly underground with a large containment area behind it. The containment area had big fences all around it and wire cages inside of the fencing, but the impact of the plane destroyed most of the construction.\n\nWhat if someone was in the containment area when the plane crashed? We have no idea what to expect when we walk into the building. Derrick and I walk down a flight of stairs and find an entrance. We turn the door handle and much to our surprise, it is unlocked. I think that is a little strange that a huge facility like this would be left unlocked. I see red flags in my head; something has gone wrong here--something unexpected.\n\nWe go through the doors and enter what appears to be a laboratory. It's a little hard to tell what it used to be because it looks as if a tornado came through and totally rearranged the contents. The computer monitors are on the floor, totally broken apart, and shattered. There are papers and ripped up notebooks scattered all over the place.\n\n\"They really need to hire a better janitorial staff in this place, don't you think?\" Dane says to me sarcastically.\n\nBut I don't laugh because this is a little frightening. I bend down and pick up one of the notebooks off of the floor. I open it and start to read through the first couple of pages. There are lots of equations and formulas, as well as experiment numbers. It starts with a baseline experiment and then gradually one variable is added, removed, or changed, and then recorded again. The details of the experiment are very meticulous and thoroughly documented. It appears as though something very important was going on here in this lab...but what?\n\nI flip through a few more pages and come across experiment #39. Here is where the experiments get interesting. The test subjects prior to this experiment were small lab animals like mice and rats. Ex #39 is the first experiment in which someone is using a dingo as a test subject.\n\nThis facility must be a medical facility where new drugs are being tested on animals before they approve them for human testing.\n\n\"Where is everyone?\" I whisper.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Derrick whispers shaking his head from side to side.\n\n\"Do you think it was deliberately abandoned or were they chased away by something?\" I ask nervously.\n\n\"I don't know, Baby. Let's keep looking around. Maybe we will find a clue,\" he adds.\n\nThe facility is structurally sound despite the containment facility's being destroyed. So what caused all of this disorder in this part of the building? We don't have an answer to that question. I close the notebook, tuck it under my arm, and the three of us continue with our walkabout of the building.\n\nAt the end of the long hall is a big steel door with half a dozen hazardous material suits hanging on the outside of the door. A glass window next to the steel door allows a view of what appears to be an airtight vault of some kind. A series of chambers permits entry to the vault where I imagine all the extremely hazardous items are stored. I've seen rooms like this in movies but never in real life. Suddenly, a shiver runs through my entire body.\n\nBut that room has not been touched. Looking through the glass window, I can see that everything inside the room appears to be in order. It is locked and can only be opened by a security card and a code of some sort. There is a cypher lock on the exterior door and it is showing a red light so I assume it is locked. The hall splits in two directions just beyond the steel door, so Derrick and I decide to take the left side, and Dane takes the right. We agree to meet back at this spot in 10 minutes.\n\nDerrick and I start down the hall and end up in the living quarters. There are about a dozen rooms in this wing with male and female restrooms on both ends of the hall. There is a small dining facility in the middle and a day room with a television. It looks as if the people actually lived here; they didn't commute. The rooms still have clothes in them, but there are no personal items that we can find to identify who might have been living here. No wallets, lab tags, or anything.\n\nWe turn around and head back to the rally point to meet up with Dane, and we are waiting for him in front of the big steel door when we hear a noise coming from the lab area. We both run down the other hall to find Dane. This section is divided into six operating rooms with access to the outside containment area at the end of the hallway.\n\nDerrick grabs Dane, \"Come on man, we've got to go. Someone is in the lab.\"\n\nWe start walking back towards the lab very slowly and stop just short of the entrance to listen. We can hear a man's voice coming from the other room and he is obviously looking for something.\n\n\"Where is it?\" a voice says desperately. \"It's got to be around here somewhere.\"\n\nWe hear someone on the ground moving papers around. Computers are being tossed aside. It is obvious that this guy is frantically looking for something.\n\nDane says, \"I only hear one guy. You?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I just hear one too.\" Derrick answers. \"We can take this guy if we have to.\" Dane nods in agreement.\n\nUpon entering the room, we see a guy on the ground on all fours searching through the rubble talking to himself. He appears to be a relatively young man with light brown hair and a medium build. He wears a white lab jacket, and either he likes white lab jackets, or he is a doctor. He spots us out the corner of his eye, jumps up, and just about knocks himself silly when his head hits the corner of a desk. As he turns toward us rubbing the lump developing on the side of his head, I notice his piercing sea green eyes. Only right now, those eyes are showing intense pain caused by the encounter with the desk. He lashes out at us.\n\n\"Who are you people and what are you doing here? This is private property, and you have no right to be in here,\" he yells.\n\n\"Sorry man, but we knocked, and the door was unlocked, so we walked in to find this mess,\" Derrick explains. \"Why don't you tell us what is going on here.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry but I don't know you people and what's going on here is none of your business,\" he says sharply.\n\nChapter 8\n\nIt is obvious to us that this guy is scared to death because he keeps looking over his shoulder as if he is running from something or someone.\n\nI step forward and say, \"Hi,\" in a soft voice, \"my name is Kobi and this is my husband, Derrick, and our guide Dane. We are visiting from America. What's your name, sir?\"\n\n\"My name is Dr. Trevor Tomblim.\"\n\n\"Dr. Tomblim, may I call you Trevor?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" he says reluctantly.\n\n\"Can you tell me first of all, are you all right?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm fine.\"\n\n\"Good, I'm glad you are OK. Can you tell me what happened here?\"\n\n\"No, I really shouldn't. If anyone finds out what has happened here it could cause a panic across the entire country. I need to try and figure out what my next move will be. You shouldn't be here.\"\n\n\"How many people are working here in the facility with you, Trevor?\"\n\n\"There were eight of us working on this project.\"\n\n\"You said 'were' eight of us. What has happened to the rest of your team? Is the project finished?\"\n\n\"No, the project wasn't completed, but I guess it is now. Everyone else is either dead or out there somewhere.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, Trevor?\"\n\nHe reluctantly pulls up a chair and starts to explain. \"About a year ago we decided to start testing a compound that was designed to reduce aggressive behavior. It all started when a doctor in the state penitentiary was brutally attacked by an inmate a few years ago for no apparent reason. He said the inmate just had this urge to kill anything with a heartbeat. The doctor fully recovered and began working diligently trying to find a drug to control aggressive behavior. He didn't want anyone else to be harmed or worse--killed. \"\n\nHe went on to explain how the compound is supposed to calm the individual with absolutely no side effects. If taken in very small doses on a daily basis, it can control anger and aggressiveness not only in humans, but in animals as well.\n\nDane responds, \"How would you market such a drug?\"\n\n\"The possibilities are endless,\" Trevor explains. \"Think about a world with no war or hate. It may sound a little far-fetched to you, but the government was very interested in it--interested enough to fund the entire project and build this facility just for that reason. We started testing the compound on wild mice and rats and it appeared to be very effective. We soon realized that we needed a bigger test subject before we went to human trials. Wild dingoes can be very aggressive, especially when they are hungry. We hired an expert trapper to gather some dingoes--three females and three males.\"\n\nHe continues to tell us how the experiments were conducted and how they got the dingoes to be even more aggressive than normal by depriving them of food. About six days ago they had a breakthrough with the oldest male in the bunch. This particular dingo was extremely aggressive with the containment guard. It was so aggressive in fact, the guard had to put a noose around its neck and drag it back to its cage. The dingo remained in lock-up all night.\n\nTrevor continues. \"The next morning, we fed the dingo breakfast with a small amount of the drug mixed in. Within an hour, the dingo was just as calm as a domesticated dog. He was responsive and playful with the guard. It was truly unbelievable. The next morning, we gave the same dingo a small amount of the drug again and he remained calm for the remainder of the day. We were planning to deprive the dingo of food for a few days but continue the drug in his water to see what effect, if any, food deprivation would have on his behavior. Unfortunately, we never had the opportunity to do that because that was the day the plane crashed into the containment area.\n\n\"Six of us worked here inside the facility, and the other two were in charge of the dogs and stayed mainly in the containment area monitoring the dogs. Both guards were outside cleaning the cages when the plane crashed almost right on top of them. The dogs were all in a holding pen surrounded by a high fence. The force of the impact leveled the fences, and the dingoes escaped. The guards tried to follow them, but it was pointless. They walked around the plane and managed to pull the pilot out of the cockpit.\"\n\nTrevor gets up from his chair and starts to pace. \"The pilot was injured badly but still breathing and able to talk. The guard asked him what happened and the pilot told him that something hit the plane. A meteorite, he thought. He heard something hit the roof of the airplane and then he smelled smoke like something hot was burning the interior. He looked around towards the back of the airplane and saw what he called a 'hot rock' burning a hole through one of the seats. The rock eventually went through the seat and started to penetrate the floor. Beneath the flooring are a lot of cables and some electronics; thus, the pilot said he could not maintain control of the aircraft and was forced to land. The impact was harder than he expected.\"\n\nTrevor said the pilot died a few minutes later. The guard dragged him away from the wreckage and went back to investigate the plane. He found the meteorite inside the fuselage and saw where it had burned through the floor, through the metal to the cables located beneath the flooring. It was very small--smaller than a golf ball, but extremely hot. The guard used a shovel to pick up the meteorite and brought it back to the containment area.\n\nTrevor goes on to say, \"We didn't want to interfere with the crash site too much because we knew that the feds would probably track the plane down and come to investigate. But the strange thing was they never did. The only thing I can think of is perhaps the pilot was flying on his own and wasn't talking to Air Traffic Control. Perhaps no one even knew this guy was out flying that day. We thought about calling the local police, but we did not want anyone snooping around our facility, asking a lot of questions about the secret government-funded project.\"\n\nTrevor sits and continues. \"So, the guards buried the pilot and started cleaning up the containment area. The inside crew continued with the research and felt that they had enough data to convince their investors that human trials could commence. We weren't concerned about the dingoes too much. We just figured they were back in the wild and were fine. We were planning to present our findings to the board and request human trials to start immediately. There are some inmates on death row that exhibit extremely aggressive behavior, and the scientists thought they would be great test subjects.\n\n\"Four nights ago, the night before we were scheduled to leave, strange things started happening around here. The two guards came in around 5:30 p.m. and got cleaned up for dinner. I said hi to Carlos, one of the guards, on my way to the kitchen. I grabbed a sandwich and went to my room, where I planned to work most of the evening preparing for the presentation I had to give at the board meeting the following day.\n\n\"Around 7:30 p.m. I heard raised voices coming from the vicinity of the big steel door, followed by a gun shot. I got up, turned off my light, and crawled under the bed. Three more gun shots rang through the halls and then my door handle started to wiggle as if someone was trying to get in. They must have thought I was gone, because I heard the sound of footsteps walking from my door down the hall. I don't know who was in the facility, but I heard windows breaking and equipment being thrown on the floors. I stayed right there for the next thirty minutes, too terrified to move. I got out from under my bed and opened the door. I slowly crept down the hall towards the lab and that's when I found two of the doctors shot in the head right outside the vault by the steel doors. One of the doctors, Dr. Elliot, was a brilliant chemist, and the one responsible for perfecting the experimental drug. I continued down the hallway and entered the lab. It was a disaster. Much to my surprise, Carlos was sitting all alone in the lab.\n\n\"I remember asking Carlos if he had any idea what was going on. Carlos just looked at me. It was a look I had never seen before in his eyes. You see, Carlos and I have been best friends since the first grade. We grew up next door to each other and were pretty much inseparable our entire lives. So to see him with this look in his eyes was very disturbing. I sat down and started calmly talking to him to see if he was okay. He was extremely nervous and very angry. It was totally uncharacteristic for him to be that way.\n\n\"Carlos looked at me and said, 'I just want to hurt someone and I don't know why. What's wrong with me, Trevor?'\n\n\"I didn't know what to tell Carlos. I decided to draw some of his blood because I wanted to check his toxin levels. Maybe he was contaminated with something from the vault. He told me he felt funny, and I noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead. I knew something wasn't right. I asked him to follow me back to one of the operating rooms to get a blood sample.\"\n\nTrevor recalls, \"Carlos got on the table and I proceeded to draw several vials and noticed that it was a little discolored and had a few clumps in it. I had trouble collecting the blood because the clots kept clogging up the needle. I switched to a higher gage needle, which didn't clog up quite as fast. I didn't say anything to Carlos about the blood, because I didn't want to alarm him in any way since he was already agitated. Once the caps were placed on the vials, I slipped them into my pocket. I would have to go to another medical facility to run the tests because all of the equipment here had been destroyed. I asked Carlos to come with me, but he refused. Before I had a chance to try to change his mind, he took his gun out of his holster and committed suicide. Startled, I couldn't believe it. I placed him on the table and put a sheet over his body. I stood over his body and wept. My best friend just killed himself and I don't know why. What in the hell happened to make him take his own life? I was angry and very confused, but I knew I had to get out of there. I felt like my life was in danger.\n\n\"I left the facility that night and decided to go to Sydney for a while to let things cool off here. Then I realized that I had forgotten my notebook--the one you are holding in your arms, Kobi. I came back for it. I waited this long to come back because I wanted to make sure that no one was here or coming back. I was collecting as much data about our project as I could find from the rooms and the floors. I even checked the pockets of the dead doctors and found something very disturbing in Dr. Elliot's pocket. It was a small notebook filled with equations and information that I didn't recognize. After reading the entire contents of the notebook, I realized that he was not working on the same project as the rest of us.\n\n\"He was developing an infectious biological disease and using the dingoes and the humans here at the facility as his test subjects. He had been giving it to the alpha male dingo for days and recording its change in behavior. I thought the dingoes were more aggressive because of food deprivation, but that wasn't the case. The alpha male quickly infected the rest of the dingoes. Dr. Elliot's notes also mentioned that the chemical and parasite were going to be placed in the food that was being served in the kitchen that very night. That was the last entry in the notebook, because he was murdered later that night.\"\n\nI look at the notes and notice an asterisk on the bottom of the page that says, \"The parasite will be unleashed tomorrow, during the meeting with the government officials.\"\n\n\"Trevor, this is an odd statement.\" I say, showing Trevor the paper.\n\n\"I didn't see that when I looked before. He knew I had a meeting with the people financially backing the government and this project. He didn't realize that I was in my room rather than at dinner with the rest of the staff. He was planning to use me as a carrier of his parasite to infect the government.\" Trevor says and then gasps.\n\n\"That was the night I ate the sandwich in my room, so that explains why I am not infected. The rest of the team is obviously infected, and now they are out there somewhere. I don't know what effect it has on humans other than it seems to make them very irrational.\"\n\nTrevor didn't hear us when we first came into the facility because he was downstairs in the basement burning the bodies in the incinerator. He said he called his contacts in the government, and they advised him to take care of the situation and leave the facility once all the data and bodies were disposed of. They were going to send a demolition team to the facility to get rid of all the evidence. The entire incident was going to be covered up and forgotten. When the government hired the employees to work at the lab, they made sure that none of them had any family--it was almost like they anticipated trouble.\n\nHow strange. Dane, Derrick, and I look at each other in disbelief. We have been listening to Trevor explain what happened here for over an hour when Dane suddenly jumps up, obviously panicked about something.\n\n\"Hey, what about the sample of blood we gave to Nicola? Do you think it\n\nmight be from those dingoes? It had the same clotted consistency as you described about the blood from Carlos.\"\n\nWe explained to Trevor what happened that night at Katherine's Gorge with the dingoes and told him about the blood.\n\nTrevor said, \"We need to get that blood sample away from your friend. We need to keep this just between us.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid it's too late, Trevor,\" Dane says. \"She has had the sample for a few days now. Don't worry, you can trust her.\"\n\n\"I hope you are right,\" Trevor says.\n\n\"Come on, Trevor,\" Derrick motions, \"get what you need and let's get out of here. I think we need to head back to Nicola in her lab.\"\n\nWe help Trevor gather up all of the documents he needs and head out to the SUV.\n\n\"I'll give her a call this evening and let her know we will be there bright and early in the morning,\" Dane says. \"Also, I will tell her to be extra careful with the dingo blood sample, because it might be infected.\"\n\nDane suggests that we all spend the night at his house since it is out of the public eye. That seemed to make Trevor seem less paranoid. We were at Dane's house within an hour and unloaded most of the car. The food we were going to use on the trip will now become our dinner for a few more days.\n\n\"Everybody just relax and try to get a good night's sleep. We will try to sort out all of this tomorrow,\" Dane says.\n\nChapter 9\n\nDay 12\n\nDerrick and I wake up about 7:00 a.m. and hear voices coming from the kitchen area. We get dressed and walk into the kitchen and pour ourselves a cup of coffee.\n\n\"Good morning!\" Derrick says to Trevor and Dane who are sitting at the kitchen table.\n\n\"Good morning Derrick, Kobi,\" Trevor and Dane reply in unison.\n\nThe four of us have a good visit and discuss the plan for the day. At around 8:30 a.m., everyone is ready to go, so we get into the SUV and Trevor in his car. We are going into Darwin to meet Nicola at the lab. It takes us about 45 minutes to get there, and as we pull up in front, we see Nicola on the steps waiting for us. She is very glad to see us and invites us into the lab. She and Trevor immediately strike up a conversation and begin talking about what tests they are going to do next.\n\n\"Trevor,\" I ask, \"Do you need us to do anything?\"\n\n\"No, I'm good. These tests are going to take most of the day,\" he replies.\n\n\"Sounds good,\" I say. \"Here is Derrick's cell phone number along with Dane's. Please call us if you find out anything.\"\n\nTrevor will need to eventually contact the Center for Disease Control (CDC), the local, and the state authorities, because there is an infectious disease involved. He is not sure if the disease is contagious. Trevor thinks that it probably isn't, because he did not get it from Carlos, but what about a bite or bodily fluid exchange? Could that spread the disease? That's what they need to find out. Hopefully, Trevor and Nicola can identify some of the disease characteristics and provide that information when the CDC is contacted.\n\nDane is going to contact an old friend of his, Monti, and ask him to help us hunt and kill the infected dingoes. Monti is an Aboriginal guide in the Northern Territory and is an expert hunter as well. Finding the dingoes won't be too hard since they have a chip implanted in them and can be tracked. We will need to purchase a few supplies for the hunt like tranquilizer guns, and protective gear. Trevor gave us a couple of thousand dollars to use for the supplies. It's what was left of the monthly allotted food money for the chef at the facility.\n\nThe three of us decide to go to the Outdoor Sports Store and buy all of the supplies we will need for the hunt. Suddenly, without warning, a series of tones blasts out over the radio. The announcer on the radio is warning tourists not to go near wild dingoes. This is a standing warning because so many tourists want to get pictures with the dingoes. The tourists feed the dingoes, hoping to get a good photograph with a wild animal. The dingoes lose their ability to hunt and expect free food from the humans. Then when they don't get the food they want, they get aggressive. The warning is not the normal warning. It is a directive advising people to immediately go indoors if a dingo is sighted, because they are attacking humans for no apparent reason. The warning was probably issued because of the family that was killed a few days ago.\n\nThe three of us instinctively know that the dingoes the announcer is talking about must be the ones from the facility. There were several locations mentioned in the broadcast where these dingoes were sighted--all within 100 kilometers of the facility. We will have to wait until Trevor and Nicola are finished in the lab before we decide what our next move will be. A couple of hours later, Nicola phones Dane with some disturbing news. Dane puts the call on speakerphone.\n\n\"Dane, this is Nicola. We have finished analyzing the blood samples, including the blood from Carlos. Both the dingo blood and the human blood contain the same microorganism which appears to behave like a parasite. We took a small sample of the infected blood and introduced it to a sample of my blood, and the parasite was extremely aggressive with its takeover of the uninfected red blood cells. Within a few minutes, every one of the red blood cells in the clean sample was infected. Thus we have to assume that it is contagious and can be contracted with any exchange of bodily fluids, a bite, or simple contact with the infected blood without protective gear. Hang on a minute, Trevor wants to talk to you.\"\n\nTrevor gets on the phone and says, \"Now that we have more information on the parasite, I am going to call the CDC. I'm sure they will send a top notch team of scientists here to test the blood and draw their own conclusions. I don't know how long it will take for them to get here, but I'll call you back after I talk to the CDC.\"\n\n\"Sounds like we might have an epidemic on our hands,\" Dane says. \"How is this going to be contained?\"\n\n\"Let's wait for the CDC to evaluate the situation, and we'll go from there,\" Trevor replies. \"I'll talk to you soon.\"\n\n\"Okay Trevor, I'll talk to you later.\"\n\nThis isn't sounding good, so we decide to head toward Nicola's lab to improve our position since we don't have a good arrival time for the CDC. At 5:15 p.m., Trevor calls us again and tells us that the CDC is right here in Darwin and they will be at the lab around 7:00 p.m. We decide to go pick up Trevor and Nicola and grab a quick bite of dinner and make sure we are back at the lab by 6:45 p.m.\n\nThe five of us plus three representatives from the CDC head into the conference room and begin discussing the issue. Trevor and Nicola present their evidence and conclusions from the tests they did earlier today. Trevor shows them the notebook that he found on Dr. Elliot and relays the unimaginable story to them like he did to us when we first met. Since the epidemic is not confined to a certain area, it will be nearly impossible to quarantine. They agree that the first place that needs to be quarantined and decontaminated is the lab facility.\n\nGeoff, the lead CDC representative says, \"We will send a team to the facility to check the hazardous vault area and the rest of the compound, especially\n\nthe kitchen. Once we have collected any specimens or contaminants, the facility will be burned. Dr. Tomblim, are you available tomorrow to accompany us to the lab?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course,\" Trevor replies.\n\n\"Great. Can you meet us here at 7:00 a.m. and we will follow you to the lab facility?\" Geoff asks.\n\n\"Sure, no problem. I would like for Dr. Nicola Reese to accompany us since she's the one who helped me identify the parasite.\" Trevor requests.\n\nAt this point in the meeting, Dane speaks up and tells Geoff about the tracking devices that are in the six infected dingoes. He mentions that he has hired an Aboriginal guide and hunter to help track down the dingoes. With Trevor's GPS and Monti's skill and extraordinary perception, it shouldn't be that difficult.\n\nGeoff looks at Dane with surprise and says, \"And you don't mind taking on the burden of hunting and destroying the infected dingoes?\"\n\n\"No, not at all. I know this country like the back of my hand and Monti is the best man I know, so between the two of us, this won't be hard at all.\" Dane responds.\n\n\"Super! We'll send a CDC member along with you to make sure the dingoes are disposed of properly. I'm sure you are very competent, and I am not questioning your abilities, but I have to send a team member along with you. It is procedure.\" Geoff explains.\n\n\"I don't have a problem with that, Geoff. Thanks for your confidence.\" Dane says as he shakes Geoff's hand. \"The plan for disposing of the dingoes is pretty simple. We will shoot them and then burn the bodies.\"\n\n\"Great. Be sure to wear protective gear, especially when you are burning the bodies. May I also suggest soaking the freshly killed dingoes with bleach so the blood doesn't contaminate the soil and spread,\" Geoff requests.\n\nAfter the meeting, we all go to Dane's house, including Nicola. She is part of our team now, so we want to make sure we include her in all of our conversations. The CDC values her input and will probably ask her to stay on and help them until the crisis is over. The CDC has unofficially declared the parasite as a disease for which there is no known cure. They have decided not to make this information public because they don't want people to panic, but they are treating the disease as a possible epidemic and will follow standard protocol. The decision will be made at a later time how to inform the public, if at all.\n\nNicola will go with Trevor to the facility tomorrow, and Dane, Derrick, and I are going to Monti's house.\n\nChapter 10\n\nDay 13\n\nMorning came early for all of us. Trevor and Nicola left around 6:30 a.m. to meet the CDC and go to the lab facility. We are meeting Monti at 12:00 noon at his place. Dane tells us that Monti's place is only about 30 miles away, but it will take us an hour or so to get there because the roads are treacherous. It is a slow, rough drive requiring a four-wheel-drive vehicle to navigate the colossal boulders that are in the middle of the road.\n\nFinally, we arrive and see Monti sitting on the front porch rocking back and forth in his rocking chair. He is smoking what appears to be a homemade pipe with some tobacco in it. The house is a very simple house with a porch all around it. On the side of the house there is an overhang with a sizable workshop. As we approach the front porch, Monti stands up and extends his hand to meet Dane's. Dane introduces us and we go inside for a cup of tea. Monti has a very dark, dull black complexion with long, curly hair. The curls are like spirals. He is probably six feet tall and 185 pounds. His hypnotic eyes are a smoky grey color with a tint of brown in them.\n\nMonti is a descendant of the Pitjantjatjara people and refers to himself as Anangu. There are only about 3500 Anangu people left in Australia and they are very connected to the land. They consider themselves to be direct descendants of the creators and regularly take walkabouts to remain in tune with the land and their ancestors.\n\nIt is obvious to Derrick and me that Dane and Monti have been friends for a very long time. Monti is more than willing to help track down the dingoes and destroy them. We all hate the fact that they must be destroyed, but we don't have a choice unless a cure is found. Dane tells Monti the entire story, and he just listens. Monti is surprised to learn that Derrick and I are going to help with tracking the dingoes.\n\nI pull the map out, and Dane has the tracking device. All of the tracking chip signals have been input into the GPS. If we isolate those signals only, the red dots on the screen will be the dingoes. Here we go. Dane pushes a few buttons and BAM! There they are just as plain as day. He moves the curser over the first red dot and the Latitude/Longitude coordinates appear. There is our first target. Oddly enough, the dingoes are all within 20 miles of each other. I wonder if this is their territory. We decide to call Trevor and Nicola and brief them on the situation.\n\n\"Hello,\" Trevor says.\n\n\"Hi Trevor. It's Kobi. What's going on?\"\n\n\"Oh, hi Kobi. Everything is going great here. The CDC found more of the parasites in the vault. It appears as though Dr. Elliot was keeping the parasites alive in some sort of chemical that we haven't identified yet. I also found Dr. Elliot's laptop in the vault so we are trying our best to get into his files and snoop around. The kitchen was contaminated, so they are proceeding with their decontamination procedures. I think we got everything out of the lab that will be of any use to us, so they are ready to burn it to the ground. Kobi, can I call you back?\"\n\n\"No problem, Trevor.\"\n\n\"What did Trevor say, Kobi?\" Derrick asks. So I told him about the conversation. Just about the time I finish, the phone rings.\n\n\"Trevor, it that you?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's me. We had to get a safe distance from the lab because they are setting it ablaze as we speak. That's a shame to see all my hard work go up in flames. I know it needs to be destroyed because of the parasite, but deep inside, I'm crushed...you know what I mean?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do. I'm so sorry, Trevor. Thought you might want to know that we have located the dingoes on your GPS. The chips you implanted into the dingoes and the tracking device work perfectly. There are all within about 20 kilometers of each other. We are plotting them on the map right now. I can't wait to show it to you later. Are you guys headed back to the Darwin lab?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think so. We will probably wait here 30 more minutes and then head into the city. The CDC is going to leave a team behind to supervise.\"\n\n\"Okay, we are headed that way ourselves. We want to report our findings to Geoff and make sure he approves our plan. We will be there around 5:00 p.m.\"\n\n\"OK. I'll see you then.\"\n\nDane and Monti have the dingoes plotted on the map. They will check the\n\ncoordinates again first thing in the morning and track their movement. Whichever dingo is the closest will be the first hunted. Monti gathers up a few things, and we start the drive back to Darwin. When we arrive at the lab, Trevor is waiting outside to meet us. We all go into the conference room and start discussing the course of action.\n\nTrevor and Nicola are going to stay in the lab with the CDC and see if they can further isolate the chemical they found at the lab--the one the parasite was soaking in. The CDC is pushing hard to find a cure for the disease because they suspect there are humans walking around who are infected and may be infecting other humans.\n\n\"Trevor, please give me a list of names of the people in the lab who were infected.\" Geoff requests.\n\n\"Dr. Evan Rudlinsky, Dr. Stolz Johanssen, Sevi Ballento, and Dr. Marci Whitmyre. Stolz is Swedish, Marci is probably back in New Zealand, and Evan and Sevi live here in Darwin. I don't know their addresses, but I know where to find them,\" Trevor says with a smile.\n\n\"Great! Call your government contact and get that information please,\" Geoff says. \"While Trevor is doing that, Dane, what is your plan?\"\n\nDane begins to explain the plan to Geoff and shows him the map with the location of the dingoes. Of course the positions will be different in the morning, but Geoff gets the idea. He nods his head in agreement with the plan and tells Dane and Monti to proceed. Cole, the CDC man, will accompany us on the hunt. Geoff tells Cole to report in every four hours with a position and status report.\n\nBy the time we finish strategizing, it's around 11:00 p.m. Trevor is going to stay in town with Nicola, so Dane, Monti, Derrick, and I head back to Dane's place and go straight to bed. We are planning to get up early and plot the first dingo so the hunt can commence. Derrick and I talk in bed for about ten minutes before going to sleep wondering if this is the right thing for us to do. We are not trained professionals like Dane and Monti. I hope we don't get in the way. Dane seems to like the idea of our accompanying him. Derrick really wants to go, and so do I; so we are going.\n\nChapter 11\n\nDay 14\n\nThe alarm doesn't have a chance to sound before I slam the lever down. Derrick and I are very eager to get going this morning. We walk into the kitchen and see Dane and Monti already plotting out the first dingo on the handheld GPS. Three of the dingoes have separated from the pack and appear to be heading south.\n\n\"Hey, good morning! Here is the first target. It is about 30 kilometers from my place, right here close to Tortilla Flats.\" Dane says.\n\nDerrick and I pull up a chair and grab a Jakfruit muffin from a plate in the middle of the table.\n\n\"How long will it take us to get there?\" I ask with a mouth full of muffin.\n\n\"The terrain is pretty flat, so it should only take us about 30 to 40 minutes.\" Dane says. \"Kobi, I want you to navigate, so let me make sure that you know how to use the GPS.\"\n\nHe shows me how to input the information and isolate certain frequencies which will help us find the dingoes. Easy enough.\n\n\"Hey, what time is the CDC guy, Cole, supposed to meet us here?\" Monti asks.\n\n\"I told him to be here at 8:00 a.m. What time is it now?\" Dane asks.\n\n\"It's 7:50 a.m.,\" Derrick answers.\n\n\"He still has some time. Monti, let's make sure we have everything we need in the car. Here Kobi, you take the GPS,\" Dane says as he hands me the device.\n\nDane and Monti pick up their gear off the table and go out to the car. Derrick and I are finishing our breakfast and orange juice. I look at him and ask him if he is ready for this. He nods his head yes. Just as we stand up, Dane walks in with Cole.\n\nCole is a tall, husky man, probably measuring about 6 feet 3 inches, and 220 pounds. His hair is so blonde, it's almost white, and his eyes are a light grey steel color. I would guess his age to be 37 years old.\n\nYou ready to go?\" Dane asks.\n\n\"Yep, all ready. Let's go,\" Derrick answers as he grabs his backpack and heads to the car.\n\n\"Derrick, you drive, and Kobi will navigate. Monti and I will be looking through the binoculars most of the time, searching for the dingo. All you need to do with the GPS is hit this button when we get within one kilometer. It will zoom in on the dot and give a more accurate range. I have set the range rings at 100 meters each. When we get within 200 meters of the dingo, let us all know. Derrick, I want you to slow down at that point. At 150 meters, stop the car. Monti and I will get out and walk toward the target after we have a good visual.\"\n\nSlowly we approach the first red dot on the GPS. We are within one kilometer of the first dingo. I have to admit I am getting a little nervous, but excited at the same time. Derrick and I have never done anything like this before, and it is a little nerve wracking, to say the least. After all, we are just tourists, here on our honeymoon, caught up in the middle of a possible infectious, biological outbreak--that's all. There's no place I'd rather be.\n\n\"Dane, I am showing one kilometer on the GPS. The red dot is northeast of our current position, and appears to be stationary.\"\n\n\"It is stationary because the dingo is probably resting in the heat of the day. They prefer to hunt at night, and usually hunt alone or in very small packs,\" Dane responds.\n\n\"How far away are we now Kobi?\" Monti asks.\n\n\"Still about a half kilometer and it remains stationary.\" We slowly continue northeast until we get within 200 meters. \"Dane, we are at 200 meters.\"\n\n\"OK. Derrick, slow down to a snail's pace, please. Monti, do you see anything yet? Kobi--position please,\" Dane whispers.\n\n\"We are just over 150 meters away Dane. Derrick, stop the car.\" I whisper softly.\n\nMonti has spotted the dingo, and it is alone, in the shade, under a big tree. Monti and Dane exit the car, put on the protective gear, and grab the tranquilizer guns. Slowly and very deliberately, they walk toward the dingo, trying to be especially quiet so it doesn't hear them. But something startles the dingo, because in a blink of an eye, it jumps to its feet and is growling at Monti and Dane. Right now it appears to be a standoff, but suddenly, the dingo charges toward Monti with a ferocious snarl.\n\nDane aims the gun, shoots the dart, and lands a perfect shot right in the left\n\nbuttock. Within a few minutes, the dingo is down for the count. Monti approaches the dingo with extreme caution and takes a pistol out of his pocket and puts a bullet right into the dingo's brain causing a painless, instant death--a very humane way to destroy the animal. Dane signals for us to drive the car over to their location making sure that we are not downwind of the animal.\n\n\"Quick, Kobi, hand me that big bottle of bleach, please,\" Dane quickly asks. \"I need to pour this all over the dingo while he is bleeding to kill the parasite.\"\n\nMonti is gathering wood to build a fire so the dingo can be burned. Gasoline can't be used to set the fire because bleach is being used. The combination of the two is very dangerous, so a wood fire is the safest option. Monti has the wood stacked and uses kindling and a match to start the fire. After a few minutes, the fire is blazing.\n\nMeanwhile, Dane is pouring the bleach all over the dingo's body. As soon as the fur is soaked, Dane and Monti pick up the dingo using their gloves, of course, and throw it on the fire. Initially, there is a lot of smoke, so we move farther away from the fire. The dingo begins to burn; the fur slowly melts onto the body, and then the flesh starts burning. At this point, I turn away because I really don't want to watch it anymore. I hate the fact that these animals are being\n\nDestroyed, but I understand.\n\nThe four of us go back to the car and wait at least an hour for the fire to burn out so Cole can investigate the remains and be assured the animal has been disposed of in accordance with procedure. He grabs the shovel and starts putting dirt on the fire to make sure it is out. The one thing we don't want is a wild fire out here in the Northern Territory. Cole calls Geoff and reports that the first dingo was alone and has been eliminated.\n\nCole comes back to the car and relays a message from Geoff. \"Outstanding job! Those were his exact words,\" Cole says.\n\nWe look at each other and smile. So it's time to find the next dingo. Monti pulls out the map and Dane inputs the signals into the GPS. Again, like magic, five red dots appear on the screen. They are spread out a little farther then they were last time we plotted them, but still relatively close together. Two red dots are within 10 kilometers of each other, and the other three dots are closer together, but moving south.\n\nThe closest dingo to our current position is approximately 20 kilometers away. On these back roads, it will take us about 45 minutes to get there. Derrick puts the car in gear and we are off. Dane reaches for the ice chest behind the back seat and pulls out some water for us. I didn't realize I was so thirsty. Before I can take a breath, my container of water is empty. Dane hands me another water and jokingly says, \"Try to enjoy this one.\"\n\n\"Thanks Dane, I will.\"\n\nMonti hands Derrick and me a sandwich--ham and cheese, I think. We got so caught up and absorbed by the hunt that we forgot to eat. Monti made them earlier today and they are delicious. I look down at the GPS to check the coordinates and see we are on course. The dot is at our one o'clock position, 15 kilometers.\n\n\"Derrick, turn just slightly to the right...perfect. Now the dot is at our 12 o'clock, 14 kilometers.\"\n\n\"So, tell me about yourselves,\" Cole says as he scans the horizon.\n\nI am assuming he is talking to Derrick and me, so I reply, \"Well, I am a Lab Technician in the Medical Examiner's Office, and Derrick is a Zoologist. We are from St. Louis, MO and we're here on our honeymoon.\"\n\n\"On your honeymoon...are you serious?\" Cole questions.\n\n\"Yeah, on our honeymoon. This is not exactly what we had planned, but it is definitely an adventure. That's for sure!\"\n\nI tell Cole the entire story of how we ended up here, in this car, at this moment. He is very surprised and seems genuinely pleased to make our acquaintance.\n\n\"Kobi, where are we with respect to the dingo?\" Derrick inquires.\n\nI got so busy talking to Cole, I forgot to keep my focus on the dingo dot. \"Dingo, 12 o'clock, 2 kilometers.\"\n\n\"Straight ahead is a very large outcrop with a small bush on one side. That's probably where it is resting,\" Monti says.\n\n\"I see it. Kobi, how far?\" Dane asks.\n\n\"One kilometer.\"\n\n\"Monti, do you see that? Look, there are three dingoes on the shade side of those rocks. See them?\" Dane asks quietly.\n\n\"Yep. Got 'em,\" Monti responds. \"I didn't expect three.\"\n\n\"Me either!\" Dane replies.\n\nDane tells Derrick to stop the car. Dane and Monti need to discuss what\n\ntheir intentions are now that there are three dingoes. It is impossible to know which one is the infected dingo, so they have to assume that all of the dingoes are carriers. The problem is they only have two tranquilizer guns. Monti has a pistol that can be used, so Dane asks Cole if he can handle a gun. He says he is an expert marksman, so that's good.\n\n\"Monti and I will tranquilize the two dingoes on the right while they are sleeping. If the third one gets up before we have loaded another dart, Cole, you shoot it! Dane explains. \"So are you guys ready?\"\n\nEveryone is ready, so Derrick puts the car in gear and starts to pull forward. Once we get to 200 meters, I tell Derrick to slow down. Now we are at 150 meters. Derrick stops. Dane, Monti, and Cole exit the car and put on their protective gear. Monti and Dane grab the tranquilizer guns and Cole gets the pistol. They start walking toward the three dingoes.\n\nDane and Monti very quietly lift their guns and fire a tranquilizer into two of the three dingoes. Before they have a chance to reload, the third dingo is charging. Cole lifts the pistol and fires off a shot. He misses. The dingo is running straight towards Cole now. He fires off a second shot and hits it in the leg. The dingo leaps forward and lands on Cole knocking him to the ground. Cole shoots again, point blank, and kills the dingo.\n\nCole is on his back with a dead dingo on top of him. He tosses the dingo off and lies on his back a minute to catch his breath. It's a good thing he was wearing protective gear, because his chest is covered with dingo blood. Monti takes the gun from Cole and goes to the other two dingoes and fires off a shot into each of the heads. Done!\n\n\"That was a tense moment!\" Cole comments as he sits up and puts his arms on his knees. \"For a minute there, I thought I was lunch.\"\n\nDane offers his hand to Cole and helps him to his feet. The two of them grab the dingo's legs and drag it over to where the other two are. Cole comes running back to the car and asks us to follow him, so we do. We pull up and Cole reaches inside the car and pulls out his backpack. Inside are some vials and a needle. He wants to draw a blood sample from all of the dingoes, since we don't know which one is infected. The lab wants to check the characteristics and the progression of the parasite to see if it has changed.\n\nHe walks over to the first dingo and inserts the needle into the forearm and collects the sample. He sees something on the belly and calls Dane over to have a closer look.\n\n\"Dane, look at this dingo's belly. It is almost entirely purple but not swollen too much. It looks like it is bleeding internally. What do you think?\"\n\n\"That's what it looks like. That's weird. Do you think it is the parasite?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Let me call Geoff and see what he wants to do. I bet he will want to collect the corpse and bring it in for an autopsy.\"\n\nCole comes back to the car and calls Geoff. He relays the information and then nods his head and says, \"Okay, we will wait for the truck.\" Cole hangs up the phone and tells us that Geoff is sending a truck with a hazardous container to collect the dingo and bring it back to the lab to investigate.\n\nCole says, \"This parasite might be a little nastier then we anticipated. It appears to be consuming the dingo from the inside out, but I'm not sure. That's why we want to have a closer look. Let me get a plastic sheet out of the car so we can wrap up the dingo and prevent further bleeding in the soil.\"\n\nMonti is busy gathering wood for the fire, and Dane grabs the bleach and starts pouring it over the two dingoes to be burned. After about 15 minutes, the dingoes are placed in the fire and burned. The third dingo, wrapped in plastic, is in front the car. Dane, Monti, and Cole return to the vehicle and take off their protective gear.\n\n\"Whew! That was exhausting,\" Cole says as he lifts a water bottle up to his lips for a drink. I notice something on Cole's hand.\n\n\"Cole, what is that on your hand? Is that blood?\" I ask with a sick feeling in my stomach.\n\nCole looks at his hand, gets a paper towel out of the car, and wipes the blood off. It is his blood. Dane gets Cole's right hand glove and investigates it closely.\n\n\"Cole, it looks like the dingo's canine pierced your glove and left that scratch on your hand. What else could have left the mark? What hand did you have the gun in?\" Dane inquires.\n\n\"The gun was in my left hand, and my right arm was in front of my face blocking the dingo's mouth...damn!\" Cole says, defeated.\n\nI put my hand in front of my mouth and take a deep breath. Tears are consuming my eyes and streaming down my cheeks. Cole has been infected. I know it. What else could have scratched him? Cole is sitting on the ground with his head between his knees in total disbelief. He is whispering, \"I was so careful, how could this happen?\"\n\nWithin the hour the truck arrives and Geoff jumps out of the back of the truck and walks over toward us. He sees Cole sitting on the ground staring off into space and asks us, \"What's happened?\"\n\nDane answers, \"Cole was scratched by the infected dingo. He put his arm up in a defensive posture and the dingo scratched him with his canine, we think.\"\n\nGeoff takes a long, deep breath and goes over to where Cole is sitting.\n\n\"Come on man, you are coming back to the lab with me. We will need to\n\nquarantine you, draw some blood, and figure out what is going on.\"\n\nCole gets up and walks over to the truck and steps into the back. He has such a defeated look on his face. I wish there was something we could do, but there isn't. Dane and Monti load the wrapped dingo in the cage sitting on the side of the truck.\n\n\"That's enough for today. Why don't the four of you finish up here and meet us back at the lab,\" Geoff asks. \"We need to talk.\"\n\nDane replies, \"Okay Geoff, let us clean up the mess here, and we will meet you at the lab. It shouldn't be long.\"\n\nChapter 12\n\nAs the truck pulls away, the four of us are just sick about what has happened. Poor Cole. Dane and Monti finish cleaning up the area and make sure that the charred remains of the dingoes are completely buried and disposed of, just as Cole would have done. They come back to the car and put the protective clothing into a large air tight container. Once we get our bearings, we start driving back into Darwin, toward the lab.\n\nWe arrive at the lab at 7:30 p.m. and go straight to the showers located in the decontamination chamber for a bath and change of clothes before we go to the conference room. The clothes that Dane, Cole, and Monti had on will be burned in the incinerator downstairs because they could be infected. Everyone decides to\n\nmeet in the conference room at 8:30 p.m. to discuss everything that has happened.\n\nGeoff walks in the conference rooms and says, \"Thank you all for coming here. I'm afraid I have some bad news. I checked Cole's blood and he has been infected. We requested an autopsy be done tonight on the dingo we brought back. Let's get a good look at what we are dealing with. Trevor, do you have the information on the four people from the lab?\"\n\n\"Yes. I got their addresses and contacted the authorities about 12 hours ago. They have Sevi and Evan in custody, and will be transporting them here later on this evening. The authorities said that when they found them, they were both sitting in their apartments staring into space. They both surrendered to the authorities without incident. The police said that when they questioned Sevi about the incident at the lab, he had no idea how he ended up in his apartment with blood all over his clothes.\n\nThe authorities sent a list of names to all of the airports. Stolz was momentarily detained at the airport by security, but he beat up the guards and left the airport, and no one knows where he is at the moment. Marci is still missing and no one seems to know where she is either. She didn't return to her house after the lab incident,\" Trevor reports.\n\n\"Well, at least that is progress. Let me know when the two guys get here and put them in quarantine. Marcus, post guards outside of their rooms, and if they try to leave or get violent, tell the guards to bring them down. Don't kill them, just incapacitate them,\" Geoff says.\n\nNicola stands and reports that she ran a test on the liquid that the parasites were soaking in. This chemical has an adverse effect on the brain--specifically the part of the brain that controls behavior and rational thought. That could have been what made the doctors at the facility so aggressive that night. But luckily, that chemical's side effect is temporary, for humans that is. She had no idea what kind of effect that chemical has on dingoes. Since they are sometimes aggressive anyway, it may affect their behavior differently.\n\nGeoff says, \"That would explain their behavior. Good work! Trevor, will you establish a time line for me? Nicola, please work with my team to isolate the parasite, and then start trying to kill it. Does anyone have any questions?\"\n\nNo one has any questions, so Geoff tells everyone to get back to work. Everyone knows it is late, but it doesn't seem to matter. Finding an antidote is paramount. Derrick, Dane, Monti, and I stayed behind to talk to Geoff for a minute.\n\n\"Listen, Geoff,\" Dane says, \"we want to head back out in the morning and finish killing the infected dingoes. Do you have another CDC member you want us to take with us?\"\n\n\"No, Dane, I don't. Do you feel comfortable handling this without an extra body?\"\n\n\"No worries, Geoff. We got this!\"\n\n\"Thanks, Dane, I appreciate it very much,\" Geoff says as he pats Dane on the shoulder.\n\nSo we're on our own. We shook Geoff's hand and told him we would be back tomorrow night with a status report. We left the lab about 10:00 p.m. and went back to Dane's house.\n\nDay 15\n\nDerrick and I are up really early, and head into the kitchen to make a pot\n\nof coffee and some breakfast for Dane and Monti. Dane comes in about 30 minutes later, dressed and ready to go.\n\n\"I better go wake up Monti,\" Dane says as he stands up from the table.\n\n\"No need, mate. I'm up,\" Monti says as he enters the kitchen.\n\nDane appears to be a little down this morning. He is really upset about Cole and feels responsible for what happened, but it wasn't his fault. He looks up at us and says, \"I don't want what happened yesterday to happen again with one of you guys, so we are going to wear stronger, tear resistant, protective gear. Kobi, you and Derrick are going to wear it too. Let's not take any chances. Before we go hunting today, I want us to go back to the outdoor store and buy some more commercial grade bleach and a few more tranquilizer guns with scopes for long range accuracy. There is no reason for us to get that close to the dingoes. I also called Geoff this morning and requested that he give us four biohazard suits from the lab--suits that are stronger and tear proof. We will pick them up on the way out.\"\n\n\"We'd better get moving then. We have a lot to do today,\" Derrick states. We gather up the maps and the GPS and head toward Darwin. The store opens at 9:00 a.m. We are in and out of the store in an hour. A quick stop at the lab to get the suits, and we are on our way. I pull out the GPS and check the location of the dingoes. The closest one to us is east of here about 25 kilometers near the Black Jungle, Lambells Lagoon area.\n\n\"That's just off the Arnhem Highway. I know where that is,\" Monti says. \"I have some relatives who live just north of the Black Jungle Reserve. My cousin, Tuka, lives out there on the edge of the swamp. May I see the GPS for a sec please? I would like to see exactly where the dingo is. He is right here on the\n\nsouthern edge of the swamp close to Tuka's house.\"\n\n\"Are you serious. Does your cousin have a phone?\" I ask\n\n\"No, unfortunately, he does not. I am not sure if he is home right now. Usually, he hunts this time of year and is gone for months. I would like to check on him though, just to make sure.\"\n\n\"Absolutely! After we kill this dingo, we'll swing by the house and check,\" Dane says.\n\nWe are within two kilometers of the dingo dot and are exiting off the Arnhem Highway headed north. Dane and Monti start looking.\n\n\"One kilometer.\" I say.\n\nDerrick slows down a little and Dane spots the dingo. \"There it is! He is eating something and appears to be alone.\"\n\nWe approach with extreme caution. Dane and Monti are both going to fire a tranquilizer into the dingo since he is alone. We stop at 100 meters.\n\n\"With these new scopes, we don't need to get any closer. Let's just stand up through the sun roof and shoot,\" Dane says as he stands up.\n\nBoth Dane and Monti stand up and point their guns toward the dingo. I hear zoom, zoom as a dart exits the barrel and whizzes past my ear. Easy shot--both darts are on target, in the back left buttock of the dingo. They sit back down and are getting ready to exit the car when suddenly, without warning, there is another dingo coming at us from the opposite direction. He is coming fast. I don't say a word. I grab another tranquilizer gun, stand up, and shoot. I see the dart enter his right shoulder and it startles the dingo. He starts grabbing the dart with his teeth trying to pull it out of his shoulder, but eventually succumbs to the drug.\n\n\"I got him! I got him,\" I screamed. Unbelievable! I'm pretty sure that was a lucky shot, but I don't care, I'll take it. We are all hollering and 'woohooing'; it was an awesome feeling.\n\n\"Wow, that was unexpected,\" Dane remarks as he sits back down.\n\nMonti replies, \"Yeah, just a little bit.\"\n\nBoth Monti and Dane are looking at me with their mouths open in disbelief.\n\n\"Good shot, girl,\" Derrick says patting me on the shoulder. \"Kobi, the dingo slayer.\"\n\n\"Thanks!\" I say with a little smirk on my face.\n\nWe decide to sit in the car for a few more minutes, just to make sure there aren't any more dingoes waiting to pounce on us. Lesson learned today. We need to make sure that the area is totally clear before we exit the car. Most importantly, we should probably have someone searching and scanning while the rest of us are out of the car.\n\n\"Alright, I think the coast is clear, Monti. Let's go clean up the mess,\" Dane says. \"Derrick, will you keep an eye out for us, please. Here is a gun.\"\n\nClean up and disposal is the same as it was before. The dingo was eating a small kangaroo, so it will need to be disposed of as well.\n\nThree more dingoes to go. Maybe if they are close we can get them all today. Before we leave the area, we are going to swing by Taku's place and check on him. Monti says he lives just up the road on the right. We pull up in front of this run-down shack and see a body lying in front yard. It is Taku. Monti jumps out of the car and runs over to the body.\n\n\"Don't touch the body, mate!\" Dane screams from the car as Monti slowly\n\napproaches the body.\n\nIt could be a dingo attack and he needs to be protected. Monti puts on a suit and gloves and returns to Taku. He rolls him over and lifts the head and shoulders and places him in his lap.\n\n\"Taku, Taku? \"Monti screams. There is no response. Derrick, Dane, and I don our protective gear, jump out of the car, and run over to Monti. Taku isn't moving at all. Monti feels for a pulse and smiles.\n\n\"There is a pulse,\" he says, \"Help me get him inside.\"\n\nAs we lift Taku, we notice that he is lying in a puddle of blood. I look at Dane and back at the blood and we both know, without saying anything, what has happened.\n\n\"Be very careful not to touch his blood,\" Dane says.\n\nWe put Taku on the kitchen table and Dane runs back to the car to get the bleach. He needs to pour bleach over the blood in the front yard because it could be infected.\n\nDane returns to the kitchen and Monti starts talking to Taku.\n\n\"Taku, Taku, wake up man.\"\n\nHe slaps his face and shakes him, yelling his name. I see Taku's eyes open and he whispers in a very weak voice, \"Cousin, cousin, what are you doing here?\"\n\n\"Hey, man. What happened? Do you remember?\" Monti asks.\n\nThere is a tightening of Taku's eyelids, and his nose wrinkles. He is in a lot of pain, but manages to speak.\n\n\"I was inside making a sandwich and heard something in the back yard. It knocked over my rubbish can, so I went to see what it was. When I opened up the back door, I saw a couple of dingoes digging in my garbage. I yelled at them, trying to scare them off, but it didn't work. They came running toward me so I slammed the door.\"\n\nTaku coughs and groans, and it's obvious that he is in a lot of pain. He continues with the story. \"Then I heard yelping, looked out of the window and saw the two dingoes running away. Something scared them enough to make them run away. I went to the front door and opened it to see what had scared them and saw another dingo just standing there, snarling. I grabbed for my gun and before I could get the gun on my shoulder, the dingo attacked me. The dingo jumped through the screen door to get to me. I know it took a chunk out of my back because it hurts real bad. Then it dragged me out into the yard and bit me over and over. I thought it was going to kill me, but suddenly he stopped and ran off.\"\n\n\"Easy man, stop talking. Let me look at you and see how bad it is.\" Monti says.\n\nHe rolls Taku over on his side and it is horrible. There is a large chunk of\n\nhis back missing and the skin is torn to shreds. It's almost like the dingo was eating him alive. I feel sick to my stomach, but manage to speak.\n\n\"I wonder if that was the last dingo that charged us?\"\n\nDane looks at me and says, \"Maybe he heard the shots or heard his buddies yelping, and came to investigate.\"\n\nI lean in to Monti and give him a soft squeeze. \"Monti, he has lost a lot of blood,\" I whisper. \"What do you want to do?\"\n\n\"I don't know if there is anything we can do. I don't think he is strong enough to make it to hospital, and if it is parasite infected blood, we don't want to risk infecting anyone else.\"\n\nDerrick motions for me to come over to where he is standing by the front door, just next to the kitchen. He whispers, \"Look at the blood, Kobi. It is clotted just like the blood from the dingo and Carlos. He is infected and has lost a lot of blood. I don't think he is going to make it. See all the clots in the blood. That happened fast.\"\n\n\"I see it. Oh man, poor Taku.\" I cry. \"How did he get infected so fast, I wonder?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe the dingo that bit him was infected by the alpha male and was loaded with the parasite. I don't even know if that is possible. Maybe we should get a sample of his blood and bring it back to the lab. There's a large pool of blood on the front porch.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea. Dane, do you have anything we can collect a sample of Taku's blood in? We should bring back a sample to Trevor.\"\n\n\"I think so. Let me go look in the kit Geoff gave us. I thought I saw a small vial in there that we can use. I'll be right back.\"\n\nDane returns with the kit and takes out a vial and a wooden tongue depressor. He dons a pair of gloves and carefully collects a sample of Taku's blood. The sample is sealed and placed back in the kit. He returns the kit to the car.\n\nDerrick and I walk back into the kitchen only to find Taku dead. Monti appears to be a bit relieved because at least Taku is not in pain anymore. He pulls a sheet over Taku's face and walks away from the table. Monti slowly walks into the living room and sits down on the couch. Dane enters the house and sees Taku's body covered up, so he knows that Taku is dead.\n\nDane walks over to Monti and kneels down beside his friend. \"Monti, I am so sorry about your cousin. I wish there was something I could say to take your pain away.\"\n\n\"Thank you my friend, but he will soon become part of this land again. That gives me comfort.\"\n\nWe know exactly what we have to do and it is not a pleasant thought. Taku has been infected, and we need to dispose of the body and burn the house down, since there is blood all over the porch and in the kitchen. This is not how the Aboriginal people usually dispose of their family members, but we have no other option in this case. Monti knows what has to be done, so he stands up and starts preparing his cousin's body for disposal.\n\nMonti and Dane put Taku on a plastic sheet, cover his body with bleach, and then roll him up. They decide to leave him on the kitchen table since the house will be burned anyway. We all walk back to the car, and Monti grabs the gasoline, and pours it all around the house. He pauses just for a second, strikes the match, and throws the match on the porch. The house starts to burn. At the car, we start to carefully remove the protective gear and place them in airtight containers to be decontaminated and recycled back at the lab. Monti drops to his knees and begins to wail. The house is completely engulfed in flames now and Monti is forced to back away from the house because the heat is so intense. He returns to the car, removes his protective gear, and gets in the back seat. I can't imagine how Monti feels.\n\nWhen we are at a safe distance, we stop and look back toward the house. Monti gets out of the car, watches for a few minutes, and says his goodbyes. What a terrible thing to have happen to a family member. He is taking it well and suggests we wait until the fire has burned out. We want to make sure everything has been disposed of properly before we leave, so we decide to wait for the fire to run its course. After the fire dies, we'll go back and double check everything.\n\nBy the time we finish with Taku's house, it's around 4:00 p.m., and we need to go back to the lab and get new suits. So we decide to give Geoff a call and let him know what happened today. Geoff is sorry to hear about Taku and says he'll talk to us when we get there.\n\nWhen we arrive at the lab, Dane and Monti take the airtight containers right to the decontamination area and grab four clean biohazard suits. The dirty biohazard suits will be cleaned and stored by the decontamination team. Derrick and I went into the conference room to wait for them. The CDC has set up a command post with phone lines and tons of computers. Geoff sees us and comes over.\n\n\"Hey guys, how's it going? Where's Monti?\n\n\"He and Dane are dropping off the suits and getting some clean ones for tomorrow,\" Derrick replies.\n\nWithin a few minutes, Dane and Monti walk in. They both shake Geoff's hand and Geoff says, \"Monti, I am so sorry about your cousin. Is there anything I can do?\"\n\n\"No Geoff, but thank you,\" Monti answers.\n\n\"Hey Geoff,\" Dane says, \"here is the kit with the vial of Monti's cousin's blood. I thought Nicola and Trevor might want to have a look since his blood was infected so quickly. Every little piece may help with the big picture.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Dane. I'll get this to them straight away. So, how many dingoes do you have left to kill?\"\n\n\"Three. We have three dingoes left, and I hope to get them all tomorrow before they kill someone else,\" Dane replies with anger in his voice.\n\n\"Well, do you guys need anything else for tomorrow?\" Geoff asks.\n\n\"No sir, we are good. We will check in with you tomorrow,\" Dane replies.\n\nChapter 13\n\nDay 16\n\nI pull out the GPS at breakfast and am pleased to see the remaining three dingo dots are very close together. This can either be good or bad. If they are all together, it might be a very dangerous situation. I check the GPS again, and it shows three dots within a kilometer of each other.\n\n\"Let's go get them!\" Dane says. And just like that, we are out the door.\n\nThe dingoes are located south of here near Hayes Creek. It is probably going to take us about an hour and a half to get there. So Dane suggests that I drive for a while so he can teach Derrick how to operate the tranquilizer gun. It's pretty simple, but he wants to make sure Derrick knows how to load and shoot.\n\nNo problem for Derrick. Sometimes, at the zoo, they need to use a tranquilizer gun, especially if an animal becomes aggressive. But, just to be safe, Derrick watches and learns. Dane wants to have a third man on the tranquilizer gun in case the three dingoes are together.\n\nI glance at the GPS sitting on the console between the two front seats and notice that our turn-off is coming up pretty soon, so I ask Derrick to grab the GPS and keep me posted.\n\n\"Turn right at the next intersection, Kobi.\"\n\n\"Okay, turning right.\"\n\nWe are driving on a dirt road now and come to a small clearing where we see a large tent set up. The dingoes are together and within 100 meters, according to the GPS, which puts them really close to the tent. We stop and start looking.\n\n\"I don't see them,\" Monti says.\n\n\"Neither do I,\" Dane says. We wait for a few minutes and see a man walk out of the tent. Our first reaction is to yell at him and tell him to go back inside, but then we see three dingoes following him outside. Could those be the three dingoes we are looking for? Who is that man? Derrick takes a picture of him and sends it to Geoff. Within a few seconds, Geoff calls Derrick and informs him that the man in the photo is Stolz Johannsen, one of the doctors from the facility. Derrick tells him what is going on.\n\n\"What do you want us to do Geoff,\" Derrick asks. There is a long pause\n\nand Derrick says, \"Okay, I'll call you when it's done.\"\n\nWe need some time to formulate a plan. Geoff wants us to tranquilize Stoltz and keep him tied up until he and Marcus arrive. It will be later on this evening before they can get here. Dane asks me to back up the car and go park away from Stolz so we can discuss strategy without being seen. We are a little confused because it appears as though the dingoes and Stolz are together, which doesn't make sense. Maybe the dingoes sense the connection and that's why they haven't attacked Stolz. That's our best guess, but who knows.\n\nDane starts thinking out loud, \"We will need to put more than one dart in Stolz because the darts I have are for something the size of a dingo, 20 kg or so. Stolz is probably around 110-120 kilograms (250 pounds). It will take four to five darts to bring down a man his size. We have four guns. Kobi, all you have to do is aim using the scope and pull this trigger.\"\n\n\"I know. Remember, I shot the dingo.\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry\" Dane says and continues. \"If we all shoot at the same time, he will fall, but what about the dingoes? If we shoot the dingoes first, he may have a gun and start shooting at us. So we have a problem.\"\n\nWe were so preoccupied with our discussion that we didn't realize there was a woman standing in front of our car with a gun pointed at us.\n\n\"Put your hands up and get out of the car,\" she screams.\n\nStolz is there as well and is pointing a gun right at Derrick, so I open the door, put my hands up and get out of the car. Derrick, Dane, and Monti do the same. They tell us to get down on the ground and put our hands behind our back. Then everything goes black.\n\nChapter 14\n\nI slowly open my eyes only to see total darkness. It is pitch black and I can't see anything. I feel a little woozy like I have been drugged. I open and close my eyes rapidly trying to clear my head. I am tied to a tree, bound at my feet, midsection, and neck. I try to scream, but I can't. Something is tied around my mouth, like a handkerchief or a scarf. As I struggle to get free, I hear something coming from the darkness right in front of me. THEY are coming, I hear the twigs breaking on the ground and I can just sense it...getting closer.\n\nI can't make out what is out there coming for us and then I hear the growling. It's the dingoes. I whine and grunt trying to make any noise I can, and I hear someone next to me doing the same thing. I can't see who it is. Then, I hear a whistle. I hear something running away from us. What the hell is going on? Suddenly, there are headlights shining right in my face. I glance around and see Derrick, Monti, and Dane tied up the same as me. Then, I hear a voice.\n\n\"Well, well...what have we here? What are you people doing out here and why do you have all of this gear? Who are you?\"\n\nObviously, we can't answer him because our mouths are gagged, but I don't think he really expected an answer. He is a massive man with such authority, and very intimidating. I hope he gives us a chance to explain ourselves.\n\n\"I am Dr. Stolz Johannsen, and this is my friend.\" A woman emerges into the beam of light and he introduces her as Marci. This is the female doctor that Geoff is looking for.\n\n\"So which one of you wants to talk? How about this pretty lady?\"\n\nHe walks over to me and removes the handkerchief that was in my mouth. \"Who are you and what do you want with us?\" He asks.\n\n\"I am Kobi Reed and that's my husband Derrick. There are a lot of people looking for you both.\" I tell him what happened at the lab and that they were deliberately infected with a very aggressive parasite, but he doesn't want to hear it. He hits me across the face and calls me a liar. I raise my head and tell him again that we want to help and that he is in danger.\n\n\"The doctors at the lab and the CDC are trying to find an antidote. If you don't get an antidote, you are probably going to die. Why would I lie, I have nothing to gain from lying. I am telling the truth. If you don't believe me, get my husband's phone and call the CDC team leader, Geoff. He will tell you everything just as I have. Trust me, we only want to help you both.\"\n\nFor a split second, I have his attention. But then Marci steps forward and\n\nsays, \"Stolz, just kill them. We don't need this headache; we are fine. Let the dogs have them.\"\n\nStolz responds, \"Marci, just relax and have a seat. I want to hear what they have to say.\" He removes the scarfs from all of our mouths and sits down right in front of us. \"One by one I am going to ask you a question. If I don't like the answer, I will kill you.\"\n\n\"What's your name?\" he says.\n\n\"Dane.\"\n\n\"Dane, why are you here?\"\n\n\"We are here to kill the three dingoes because they have been infected with a very aggressive parasite just like you have. Remember the experiments you were doing on the dingoes at the lab? It's those dingoes I'm talking about. We are working with the CDC to track down and kill the infected dingoes. The doctors back at the lab are working around the clock to find an antidote so this can be controlled. We learned about all of this from Dr. Trevor Tomblim. He is the one who found out about the parasite. Trevor is at a lab in Darwin working hard to find a cure.\"\n\n\"Trevor? Is he infected?\"\n\n\"No, he is fine. You were infected at dinner the last night you were there. You didn't know it but Dr. Elliot was developing an infectious biological disease and everyone at the lab was a guinea pig for him including the dingoes. Dr. Elliot put the parasite in everyone's dinner. Trevor didn't eat with you that night because he was in his room preparing for the presentation,\" he explains.\n\n\"Really? So is it fatal? Can it be cured? How long do we have?\"\n\n\"There are a bunch of folks trying to find the answers to those questions.\n\nRight now they don't know,\" Derrick says. \"Why are you and Marci here with the dogs?\"\n\n\"We are hiding out here because all we can remember from that night is the two doctors lying dead on the floor. They had been shot. I remember being very angry that night and to be honest, I don't know who killed them. It might have been me. It's all a blur, so we have been hiding out here with the dogs trying to figure out what to do. When the four of you showed up, we naturally thought you were the bad guys, here to kill us. I'm so sorry I hit you, Kobi.\"\n\n\"Well, let us take you back to the lab and put you in quarantine with Sevi and Evan. Hopefully, the doctors can find a cure for this before it's too late.\" Derrick says.\n\nStolz gets up and unties all of us. Derrick gets on the phone and calls Geoff. Geoff is very pleased to hear that we have found Marci as well, and that she and Stolz are cooperating with us. He still wants us to kill the dingoes though. I don't see why we need to. They are not being aggressive towards us at all, so why should we kill them? I guess the dingoes aren't attacking us because they don't feel threatened. Maybe if we take them into the facility with Marci and Stolz and keep them fed, they can be saved.\n\nI get on the phone and plead with Geoff to please let the dogs come. Finally, after a few minutes, he agrees. Of course the dingoes will be muzzled and restrained during transport and quarantine. Having them in captivity may even prove to be useful if more blood samples are needed during the process of finding a cure.\n\n\"Geoff said it will take them about an hour and a half to get here with the truck and the cages.\" I say.\n\n\"So, after that night at the lab, what happened?\" asks Monti.\n\nStolz recalls, \"I remember we left late, around 10:00 p.m. and headed south to get away from the lab. Marci and I are together, engaged to be married, so we decided to stay together. Neither one of us can remember exactly what happened that night--just the two doctors dead and being very angry. We got in my car and left in a hurry. I don't remember where we spent the night, but the next day we went to the store and bought some camping gear and camped out for five or six days. Then we decided to fly out to New Zealand where Marci lives.\n\nWe were at the airport buying tickets at separate counters when these security guards grabbed me and told me I had to come with them. I asked them why, and they wouldn't tell me. Of course I thought it had something to do with the lab, but I wasn't sure. I was just terrified, so Marci and I ran. We came back down here yesterday and found the dingoes. I didn't know they were the dingoes from the lab. They were just here and seemed friendly, so we fed them and they just stayed.\"\n\nMarci asks, \"How do you know these are the dingoes from the lab?\"\n\n\"Remember the chips that were inserted into them?\" I ask.\n\n\"Yeah, I remember now. Trevor did that just in case they escaped.\" Marci replies and nods her head up and down.\n\nDerrick speaks up and asks, \"Are either one of you feeling strange in any way?\"\n\nMarci says, \"No not really. I have been a little sore in the abdomen and thought it was due to poor diet.\"\n\nStolz looked at Marci and seems surprised. \"You didn't tell me you weren't feeling well.\"\n\n\"I didn't want to scare you, but I have been having a lot of pain right here.\" Marci points to her right side and raises her shirt. I am shocked to see that her side has a huge bruise on it.\n\n\"Marci, you are all bruised up. What happened?\" Stolz asks.\n\n\"I don't know.\" Marci says.\n\nDerrick, Dane, Monti, and I know what it is. We saw the same thing on the dingo that we wrapped up and brought back to the lab for an autopsy.\n\n\"Marci, we saw this on one of the dingoes. The doctors back at the lab in Darwin think it is from the parasite,\" Dane explains to her.\n\nWhen we get back to the lab, we'll let Nicola check the rest of her body for bruising. I glance at my watch and see that it is now 8:00 p.m. and Geoff should be pulling up any minute. I mention to everyone that it might be a good idea to pick up the campsite and have everything ready to go when Geoff gets here so we can get on the road. They all agree, so we start to clean up when we see headlights coming down the dark road. There are at least three vehicles coming--two CDC trucks and an animal control van with cages in the back.\n\n\"Sorry, it took us so long. These roads can be a little tricky when it is dark. It is pitch black out there when the moon is obscured by cloud cover. It was very hard finding the turn off to get here; there was no sign or anything,\" Geoff explains. \"So, what is going on here? Where is Stolz, and what happened to your eye, Kobi?\"\n\n\"Well, a funny thing happened here Geoff.\" Dane explains. \"We were so focused with our discussion of how we were going to bring down Sasquatch over there, that we didn't see his friend Marci sneaking up on us. So, when she yelled as us, we were very surprised to see her standing in front of the car pointing her shotgun at us. I think you can figure out the rest. We finally convinced them that we weren't here to harm them and they untied us.\"\n\n\"Untied you? Explain.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we were tied to those trees over there and gagged. Kobi got a nice shiner out of it though.\"\n\nGeoff looks in my direction and says, \"Yeah, I can see that.\"\n\nAll I can do is shrug my shoulders and smile. Geoff just shakes his head.\n\nDane continues, \"So, after explaining the situation to them, they are more than willing to return to the facility and get help. Marci is already showing the initial symptoms; bruising around her abdomen and on her right side.\"\n\nWe arrive at the lab in Darwin very late. Marcus escorts Marci and Stolz into the quarantine area. Of course, they are allowed to clean up and eat something. Then Stolz insists on seeing Sevi and Evan, so Marcus takes them to the rear of the building where they are staying. The three of them start talking about the last thing they remember, and it is amazing how similar the stories are. They remember working that day and sitting down for dinner, but everything after that is just a blur. Stolz remembers seeing the bodies outside of the vault area, but has no recollection of the events that occurred. Sevi and Evan both remember being very angry as well.\n\nMeanwhile, another CDC employee takes the dingoes to a separate area, in the rear of the lab, to be quarantined. Unfortunately, there are no outside facilities here to accommodate the dingoes, so they will need to be caged. At least they are alive and being given a second chance. It will also be interesting to observe how the parasite affects them.\n\nIt is late, so we decide it would be best if we all meet at the lab first thing\n\nin the morning. We say our good nights and head toward Dane's house. It is around midnight when we pull into his driveway. The boys immediately grab a bottle of Scotch, four glasses, and walk out to the front porch. Everyone pours a shot of Scotch, clanks glasses, and shoots it down the hatch. After the day we've had, this tastes really good.\n\n\"If you guys don't mind, I am going to take a shower. I'm feeling a little grimy tonight,\" I say, standing up out of my chair. I give Derrick a kiss on the cheek as I pass him.\n\nMy shower feels fantastic! As I am drying off, I glance at myself in the mirror and notice I have a nice shiner on my left eye, compliments of Mr. Stolz. I'm clean and in some fresh clothes headed back to the front porch ready for round two with the Scotch bottle.\n\nDerrick looks at me and says, \"Nice eye.\"\n\n\"I know. I feel so tough now, like a boxer or something. But it really hurts when I touch it right here.\"\n\n\"Then don't touch it right there,' Derrick says laughingly. It reminds me of my father. He used to say that all the time. I would say, \"It hurts when I do that,\" and he would say, \"Then don't do that!\" It's funny how certain situations trigger memories.\n\nMonti excuses himself from the gathering to take his shower. Dane, Derrick, and I are sitting quietly on the porch, listening to the squeaky windmill and the cadence of the insects. It is a beautiful night with half-moon hanging low in the sky. It's hard to believe that anything bad could be happening when it is so peaceful out here. I can't help but wonder about the people at the lab who are infected with the parasite. Not knowing whether you are going to live or die has got to be one of the worst feeling imaginable. I hope they can find a cure for this thing.\n\nDane speaks up and says, \"I've got a bad feeling that this crisis is not over yet.\"\n\n\"Let's just wait and see what the CDC, Trevor, and Nicola have come up with. Maybe it's good news,\" Derrick says with an upbeat tone.\n\n\"I hope you're right.\"\n\nDerrick and I say good night and retire to the bedroom for the night. Derrick still has to take a bath, so while he is showering, I pull out a piece of paper and a pen and start making my own timeline, based on what Trevor said.\n\nIt was ten days ago when the plane crashed into the facility and the dingoes escaped. It was just a few days before that when Dr. Elliot's notes said the dingo was infected with the parasite. The family at Katherine's Gorge was attacked and killed the day after the dingoes escaped. Could it have been those dingoes? Did the alpha male infect the rest of the dingoes too? How many more dingoes are infected that we don't know about. We can't track those. A person could go crazy worrying about all of this.\n\nAlso in Dr. Elliot's notes, it mentioned that he was going to infect the rest of the staff there in the facility, especially Dr. Tomblin, because he was scheduled to meet with the government investors the next day. There was an asterisk and the following statement in his notes, 'The parasite will be unleashed into the government tomorrow'. What a perfect way to unleash the parasite, from the top down. Is there something else about the parasite that we don't know? Can it be transmitted with a sneeze or a hand shake? How was Trevor going to spread it during his meeting? With whom was Dr. Elliot working? Is he a terrorist or just a mad scientist? Too many questions.\n\nDerrick comes out of the bathroom, sees me on the bed and asks, \"Hey, what are you doing, Honey?\"\n\n\"Just thinking and trying to figure out some things.\" I shared my thoughts with him, and he suggested I shut off my mind for the night and turn it on again fresh in the morning--at the lab. Discussing things in a group can oftentimes improve the thought process and provide answers.\n\nAs usual, he is right. So I fold up my timeline and put it in the pocket of my jacket so I am sure to have it tomorrow at the lab. I glance at the clock on the nightstand, and it says 1:30 a.m. No way it's that late already. I reach over and turn off the light and wiggle myself down into the bed. I feel Derrick's arm touch my shoulder, so I turn over and put my head on his chest and close my eyes.\n\nChapter 15\n\nDay 17\n\nI'm very curious about the autopsy Trevor conducted on the dingo. I wonder what he found out. Good news, I hope. I reach in the pocket of my jacket just to make sure my notes from last night are still there, and they are. We pull up to the lab, park, and go inside only to see everyone a little excited, to say the least. We go into the command post and find Trevor, Geoff, and Nicola sitting at the table talking.\n\n\"Geoff, I'm telling you, it's not over,\" Trevor says in a panic.\n\n\"Trevor, start at the beginning. What did you find while you were doing the autopsy?\" Geoff says calmly.\n\n\"OK. Nicola and I started the autopsy by making an incision from just below the throat all the way down to the genitals. We pulled the skin and muscles apart, and there wasn't much left on the inside of the dingo. Most of the intestines and organs were a dark molasses color and almost completely gone like they had been liquefied. The smell was disgusting. We removed most of its insides and were able to get a few samples of the liver, stomach, and lungs. We placed the samples in three large petri dishes for later. A cross-section of bone was taken from the rib, breastbone, femur, and shoulder region. When we opened up the skull to get a cross-section of the brain, we found the molasses again, so we couldn't get a clean sample from the brain. A piece of skin and hair were also obtained and placed on microscope slides.\"\n\nNicola then spoke up and said, \"Here is the problem. There is no way the dingo was alive with all of this going on inside of him. Trevor and I think the parasite continued consuming the organs after the dingo was dead. The dingo was dead, but the parasite wasn't. We even conducted a test on the three petri dishes we had collected earlier. We watched the parasite destroy the remaining samples within 12 hours. Again, we introduced uninfected blood into the petri dish, and the parasite attacked it.\"\n\n\"Where is the dingo corpse now Trevor?\" Geoff inquires.\n\n\"Marcus and I wrapped it up and brought it down to the incinerator for disposal.\"\n\n\"Good. What else do you have Trevor?\"\n\n\"There is some good news. We checked one of the petri dishes this morning, and the parasite is not very active. Maybe without a food source, it will eventually starve to death. That's what we are hoping. We'll keep an eye on it.\"\n\n\"Geoff, I was thinking last night about this parasite. In Dr. Elliot's notes, he talked about unleashing the parasite on the government using Trevor as the host. How was the parasite supposed to get out of Trevor's body into theirs? I understand that a kiss, or another form of fluid exchange could transfer the parasite, but I don't think Trevor was planning to swap spit with anyone there at the meeting, so I am wondering if there is something about this parasite that we haven't discovered yet.\"\n\n\"Oh, I think I can explain how Dr. Elliot was going to unleash the parasite.\" Trevor explains. \"I was sick with a bad head cold that week, with lots of sneezing and blowing. I'm sure Dr. Elliot knew I was sick and realized that the parasite would be on my hand and in my handkerchief. Most people don't wash their hands after a sneeze, so the parasite would have been all over my hands. Quite an ingenious way to unleash the beast.\"\n\nIt's a good theory, but a bit risky on Dr. Elliot's part. Trevor must have been really sick. I glance at Derrick and Dane and notice that Dane's eyebrows are close together--he has something on his mind.\n\nDane interjects, \"I'm thinking about the dead dingo and the parasite continuing to eat away at its insides. What about the people that were attacked and killed at Katherine's Gorge? If they were attacked by the infected dingoes, then chances are they were infected as well. If what you are saying is true, then their bodies may still be infected.\"\n\nA look of terror spread through the room. Eyes were wide open with raised eyebrows.\n\n\"But, they were embalmed. Wouldn't that kill the parasite?\" I ask\n\nEveryone looks at each other. Nicola says, \"I don't know,\"\n\nGeoff looks at Dane, \"Dane, see if you can find out anything about the family that was murdered. Where were they from, where were the bodies sent, and where are they buried? Here, you will need this ID badge in order to get that kind of information from of the authorities\"\n\n\"You got it,\" Dane says as he jumps up, taps Derrick and me on the shoulder, \"Let's go. Monti, are you coming?\"\n\n\"No man, I think I will stay here and help if I can.\"\n\n\"Where are we going, Dane?\" I ask as we are running to the car.\n\n\"We are going to find Officer Dillon and get some details on the family.\"\n\nBefore I know it we are on our way to Katherine's Gorge. That place doesn't hold a fond memory slot in my head. While we are driving Dane looks at Derrick and me and says, \"I'm sorry. I just assumed that you would want to come with me since you have been involved with this since the beginning. It didn't dawn on me that you might want to do something else on your honeymoon.\"\n\n\"Are you kidding Dane?\" Derrick says, \"There is no place we would rather be. Fun is over-rated anyway.\" Dane and I both bust out laughing. So that is settled. We arrive at the Ranger's station right about noon. We get out of the car and walk in only to see Officer Dillon manning the desk today.\n\n\"Good morning, may I...hey, I know you guys. You were just here about a week and a half ago, right?\n\n\"That's right,\" Dane says. \"Is there somewhere we can talk privately? It's about the family that was attacked and killed.\"\n\n\"Sure, come with me.\"\n\nWe follow Officer Dillon to a back room in the building and shut the door.\n\n\"What's going on?\" he asks.\n\nDane briefly explains the situation to Officer Dillon. Officer Dillon asks us to wait right here while he gets his logs from that week. All campers have to register and pay camping fees. He returns within a few minutes with his ledger.\n\n\"Here it is. The family was here on vacation from Perth. Their names were Thom and Becky Smithton. It says here that they also had their three year old son with them. We sent the bodies to the hospital in Katherine.\n\n\"Where are they now?\" Dane asks.\n\n\"I don't know. You will have to ask the morgue attendant for that information. Her office is located around the rear of the hospital in the basement. I'll call ahead and tell her you're coming.\"\n\n\"Thank you so much. You have been extremely helpful and we appreciate that very much,\" Dane says as he shakes his hand.\n\nAll the way to the hospital I keep thinking about the three year old boy. Such a tragedy. The family had no idea that their vacation would end that way. Dane drives around the back of the hospital and finds the morgue. There is a ramp leading up to the entrance to the morgue. We walk through the sliding glass doors and proceed down a long hall until we see a sign for the Administration Office. Amazing how gloomy this place really is, just like in the movies. If a body sits up while I am in there, I will have a cow. I know I work in a Medical Examiner's office, but these places are always a little spooky.\n\nJust inside the office, we see a young lady in her mid-thirties sitting at a table filling out medical papers of some sort. \"Good morning,\" we say.\n\n\"Good morning. May I help you?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm Dane Walker, and these are my friends, Derrick and Kobi Reed. We are working with the CDC in Darwin and would like to ask you a few\n\nquestions?\"\n\n\"Okay,\" she says with a puzzled look on her face.\n\n\"About 10 days ago, a family was brought here from Katherine's Gorge. They had been attacked and killed by a pack of dingoes. Were you working when they were brought in?\" Dane inquires.\n\n\"Oh, Officer Dillon just called about you. I'm sorry I didn't make the connection. Yes, I was here that day. I remember, the bodies were in terrible shape and the little boy...well, I cried and that doesn't happen very often. We put them in the freezer until the wife's mother came to claim the bodies. She did not want an autopsy done because it was obvious what had happened. Also she didn't want their bodies mutilated any further, which I totally understand. Hold on; let me get the paperwork on them,\" she says and goes to the file cabinet to retrieve some papers.\n\nShe returns to the table and begins reading, \"Three bodies were released today to Mrs. Ida Jones and loaded onto a private charter at 1:00 p.m. I believe she flew the family back to Perth. Here is her contact information if you would like to give her a call.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much,\" Dane says and shakes her hand.\n\nOnce we are back in the car, Dane pulls out his cell phone to call Mrs. Jones. \"It's ringing...Hello. Mrs. Jones? I am calling you about your daughter and her family. I am from the CDC. May I put you on speakerphone?\"\n\n\"Who is this again?\"\n\n\"My name is Dane Walker and I am from the CDC in Darwin. May I put\n\nyou on speakerphone?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course you can,\" she says.\n\n\"First, I would like to say I am so sorry for your loss. I am working with the CDC in Darwin and am calling about your daughter and her family. Please don't be alarmed, but there is a possibility that your daughter and her family were attacked by a pack of infected dingoes.\"\n\n\"What do you mean infected dingoes? Infected with what?\"\n\n\"We aren't completely sure yet, but it appears to be a parasite of some sort that could potentially be very dangerous. We would like to speak with the mortician that embalmed your daughter and her family. I know this is soon and very difficult to talk about, but the infection could be highly contagious,\" Dane explains.\n\nWe didn't want to go into all of the details, because we don't want a panic to start across the nation. The authorities know about it and have been instructed on what to look for, but the general public has not been given all of the details, yet.\n\n\"The name of the funeral home is Dacketts. Mr. Dackett took care of my daughter and her family. Do you want me to get you the phone number? I think I still have it in my purse.\"\n\n\"No ma'am, we can find it, but thanks so much.\" Dane replies.\n\n'You are welcome. I hope everything is going to be all right?\"\n\n\"We hope so too, Mrs. Jones. Thank you, we appreciate your help. And Mrs. Jones, please keep this conversation confidential because we don't want to create a panic. I would appreciate that very much. I promise, we'll keep you posted on what we find out,\" Dane says.\n\nDane hangs up the phone and calls directory assistance to get the number\n\nfor Dacketts Funeral Home. \"I think we should go back to the lab and let Trevor\n\ntalk to Mr. Dackett. He knows exactly what questions to ask.\"\n\nWe arrive back at the lab around 3:00 p.m. We go directly to the command post and find Trevor there talking to Geoff.\n\n\"Hey Geoff, here is the number for the Funeral Director. He is located in Perth. The woman at the morgue said the family did not want to do an autopsy since their bodies were already mangled from the attack. It will be interesting to see what he has to say,\" Dane says as he hands Geoff the piece of paper.\n\n\"Let's give him a call, Trevor,\" Geoff says as he is dialing the number. He has put the call on speakerphone, so we can all hear. I run to the back office to get Nicola. She should probably hear this conversation as well.\n\n\"Dackett's Funeral Home, this is Mr. Dackett speaking.\"\n\n\"Good Morning, Mr. Dackett. My name is Geoff Collins. I am the CDC Director in Darwin and I would like to discuss a case with you, if you have time. I also have Dr. Trevor Tomblim on speakerphone, and he has a few questions for you as well.\"\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Collins, now is a good time. How can I help?\"\n\n\"About ten days ago, Mrs. Ida Jones flew her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson back to Perth from Katherine's Gorge. They had been attacked and killed by dingoes. Do you remember that case sir? Did anything unusual happen during your embalming process?\"\n\n\"Yes sir, I remember this case vividly. It was a horrible tragedy the way that family died.\"\n\n\"Do you remember anything odd or different about the bodies, specifically\n\nwith the blood?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do. I started the embalming procedure by making a small incision\n\nabove the clavicle bone, like I always do, in order to insert the tube that flushes the blood out of the system through the right carotid artery and the right jugular vein. When I made the incision on the husband, a reddish black fluid oozed from the incision, but I didn't think much of it. I continued with the process until the fluid ran clean. I performed the same procedure on all three bodies. The only body that had the ooze was the man.\"\n\n\"Did you notice if there were any clots in the blood?\"\n\n\"Come to think of it, yes. His blood had what appeared to be little black beads in it.\"\n\n\"Didn't you think that was odd at the time?\"\n\n\"I didn't really give it much thought. I embalm so many bodies, it unfortunately becomes routine.\"\n\n\"Where does the blood go?\" I ask.\n\n\"The blood is flushed in my septic tank. Why? Is everything okay?\"\n\n\"We won't know for sure until we check the body you embalmed. There may have been an infectious parasite in his blood. We also need to check your septic tank, so don't have it emptied.\"\n\n\"But Geoff, even if there was a parasite in his blood, wouldn't the chemicals from the embalming fluid kill any infectious organisms?\" I ask.\n\n\"We can't say for sure because we have never seen a parasite like this and do not know how it responds or reacts. Mr. Dackett, at which cemetery in Perth are the bodies buried, do you know?\"\n\n\"They aren't in a cemetery. Mrs. Jones lives almost 200 kilometers north of Perth. She and her husband ran a sheep station for many years together, and then he died a few years ago. She still operates the station and wanted to have the\n\nremains buried there. Her daughters' husband did not have any family, so she decided to bury him with her daughter and grandson.\"\n\n\"Did you personally drive the remains to the location where they were put to rest?\" Trevor inquires.\n\n\"Yes, I did.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Dackett. Please do not allow the septic service company to empty your tank, under any circumstances. I am going to send one of my employees to test the contents of the tank in the next few days\" Geoff explains.\n\nGeoff looks at Trevor and Nicola and says, \"Do you think we have a problem?\"\n\n\"I don't know, Geoff. The only way we can be sure is to go to Perth and test the septic tank behind Dackett's Funeral Home for the parasite,\" Trevor says.\n\nGeoff leans back in his chair and interlocks his fingers behind his head. \"We could have a serious outbreak on our hands. I need to contact the CDC in Perth and brief them on the situation. Kobi, how would you like to become part of this team? With your experience as a medical lab technician, you will be a valuable asset to us all. I will contact your boss in St. Louis and ask him if you can stay and help out with this crisis. I'll tell him it's a national emergency,\" Geoff explains.\n\n\"Really? That sounds good to me. I would love to stay and be part of your team. Derrick, it that okay with you?\"\n\n\"That's fine Kobi, if that's what you want to do. I wish I could stay with you, but I have to get back to my job. Do you feel okay staying by yourself?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm okay with it, but I wish you could stay.\"\n\n\"I know. I was lucky to get the four weeks off in the first place. I doubt\n\nmy boss will grant me anymore time. You stay, Honey. Believe me, if I could stay, I would.\"\n\nI look at Geoff and say, \"I'll stay if it's okay with my boss. I don't know my way around the area though. Someone will have to drive me.\"\n\nGeoff looks at Dane and says, \"Dane, how would you like to be put on the payroll? You will be her guide just like you are now. Get her wherever she needs to be.\"\n\nDane looks at Derrick and says, \"Is that alright with you, Mate?\"\n\n\"No problem. I trusted you before with both our lives, so why not now.\"\n\n\"Great! That's settled. Welcome to the team you two,\" Geoff says as he smiles at Dane and me.\n\nChapter 16\n\nNicola and Trevor want to get some embalming fluid and introduce it to the parasite and see what happens. Embalming fluid is supposed to kill some infectious organisms, but will it kill this one? Derrick, Dane, and I decide to go into Darwin to a funeral home to obtain some embalming fluid since you can't buy it without a license. All we really need to tell the Funeral Director is that we are with the CDC and need it for decontamination purposes. The Funeral Director doesn't ask any questions and gives us a gallon of fluid.\n\n\"Do you think we have enough?\" I ask as we exit the Funeral Home.\n\n\"Well, if it's not, we can always get more,\" Dane says.\n\n\"So what is the plan for the fluid, Kobi?\" Derrick asks.\n\n\"Nicola wants to mix the fluid with samples of infected blood to see if the parasite can be killed. If it does kill the parasite, she and Trevor will try and make an antidote out of it. That's easier said than done. Obviously, embalming fluid can't be injected into humans, but maybe it can be done in small doses like arsenic. They used arsenic to kill syphilis, remember?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, that's right. But how will they know how much to use?\" Derrick replies.\n\n\"That's why they are doing the tests and not me. I have no idea how to tackle this task. Let's get going. I want to get this back to Nicola and Trevor.\"\n\nI walk in the lab, give the fluid to Nicola, and ask her if anyone has checked on our patients in quarantine today. She told me she hadn't been back there yet, so I decide to go visit them and see how they are doing. I'll stop and see Marci first.\n\n\"Hi, Marci.\"\n\n\"Oh, hi Kobi, how are you?\"\n\n\"I'm fine. How are you feeling today?\"\n\n\"I've had better days; that's for sure. I'm having a lot of pain in my lower back and in my upper thighs. It is getting harder and harder to walk.\"\n\n\"Do you mind if I take a look?\"\n\n\"No. Not at all.\"\n\nI lift her gown, and am shocked to see her entire stomach bruised like she has an internal bleed. I roll her over slightly so I can have a look at her back. It is massively bruised as well. When I roll her back over, I notice the whites of her eyes are discolored. I think the reason she is deteriorating so much faster than the rest of the people infected is because of her small stature. She is only about five feet two inches and weighs about 110 pounds compared to the guys who are twice her size. They are all showing signs of the parasite too, but not like Marci. They are giving her morphine around the clock for the pain, but I don't think it is working anymore.\n\n\"Marci, how would you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10?\n\n\"It comes and goes, but on average, it's about a 7 or 8.\"\n\n\"Is the morphine controlling the pain well enough?\"\n\n\"It is for now, but believe me, there are some times when I wish they would give me the whole bottle. Are they any closer to having the antidote?\"\n\n\"They have had a few brilliant ideas, but no success yet.\" I grab her hand and give it a light squeeze and say, \"Please let us know if you need anything or something stronger for the pain, okay?\"\n\n\"I will, Kobi. Thanks for stopping by.\"\n\n\"Sure thing. I'll see you later.\"\n\n\"See ya,\" she says cheerfully.\n\nI see Marcus in the hall and he informs me that the dingoes died this morning around 10:00 a.m. The bodies were wrapped and taken down to the incinerator for disposal. I am not surprised that they died first, since they only weigh about 50 pounds.\n\nSevi, Evan, and Stolz are showing the early stages of the parasite infection. They have minor discoloration on their chest and abdomen. Cole has no symptoms at all other than the parasite showing up in his blood. Trevor asked me to take a blood sample from each of the guys, because we need to check the progression of the parasite. I'll start with Stolz.\n\n\"Hey Stolz, how's it going?\"\n\n\"It's going. What's up with you little lady?\"\n\n\"Not much. Just here to collect a little blood from you. Trevor wants to check everybody's blood today.\"\n\n\"Okay. Here use this arm.\" He holds out his right arm for me to use and says, \"Why don't you let me collect blood samples from the other guys. There is no reason for you to be subjected to this little parasite unless you have to. Where should I bring them after I'm done?\"\n\n\"There is a cabinet right outside of the vault where Nicola and Trevor are working. You can put the vials in there, and we will check them later this evening Thanks for doing this.\"\n\n\"No problem. So, how's everything else going?\"\n\n\"It's going well. Geoff has asked me to stay on and become part of his team during this crisis, and I have agreed. Derrick will have to go back to the states in a few weeks, but he'll be able to help out until then. Nicola and Trevor are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Still, no luck. They are working with some embalming fluid right now to see if it will kill the parasite.\"\n\n\"I guess we are your guinea pigs, huh?\"\n\n\"I guess, but not yet.\" What a terrible thing to call a brilliant doctor/scientist like Stolz. But in fact, he is probably correct. The folks infected here at the lab will be the first people we try the antidote on, when we find one.\n\nI am on my way back to the command post when I hear someone call my name. I turn around and see Cole at his quarantine room window motioning for me to come over and visit. I have already removed all of my protective gear so I will have to stay outside of his room.\n\n\"Hi Cole. How are you feeling?\n\n\"I am doing fine. I heard that Geoff has asked you to stay and work with\n\nthe CDC until this crisis is over. I think that's great.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm excited about it. Excited seems like the wrong word to use, but you know what I mean. I love a challenge and I want to help. Seriously Cole, how are you feeling?\"\n\n\"I'm a little scared, Kobi. I knew a long time ago when I took this job that there was always a risk of catching some infectious disease, but you don't think it will happen to you. It always happens to someone else. Well, not this time. Here I am infected and there is no cure. I have a wife and a beautiful little girl at home. She is three years old, and I really want her to grow up with her father. I'm not ready to give it all up.\"\n\n\"Cole, I'm so sorry. I know there is nothing I can say to make you feel any better, but you know that Trevor, Nicola, and the rest of the CDC staff are working around the clock, using everything from toilet water to embalming fluid, trying to find a cure for this thing. I really think they will find one and you will be fine. You have to stay positive and keep that brain busy. You may have a brilliant idea for the doctors to try, so don't give up. I know it's easy for me to say because I am out here and you are in there, but you can't give up.\"\n\n\"Thanks Kobi for cheering me up. See, you are a tremendous help already. How is the lady, Marci, doing?\"\n\n\"She is not doing well. The parasite is working its way through her tiny little body quickly. Do you have any discoloration on your belly yet?\"\n\n\"I noticed one spot right here this morning,\" he says and lifts his shirt to show me.\n\n\"Turn around Cole, let me check your back.\" He turns around and I don't\n\nsee anything on his back. \"You are clear back there, buddy.\n\n\"That's good. I wonder if being infected directly with the parasite versus being infected with bodily fluids, like I was from the dingo, makes a difference?\"\n\n\"I don't know Cole, but that is something we haven't mentioned yet. I am going to talk to the team about that right now. You hang in there and I'll keep you posted.\"\n\nCole puts his hand up to the glass, and I put my hand up to the glass, smile, and head toward the hazardous area. What an awesome thought. The parasite might not be as aggressive as it was right out of the fluid that Dr. Elliot had them floating in. We need to check Cole's blood first to see if the parasite is as active in his blood as it is in the rest of the infected people.\n\nI put on my protective gear, buzz Nicola, and go inside the vault. \"Do you have Cole's blood here?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's right here. Why?\" Nicola asks.\n\nI told her about the conversation that Cole and I just had. She directs me to the microscope station and tells me to have a look. I take a small sample of Cole's blood and place it on a slide. I look at it under the microscope and see something moving. I confirm with Nicola that it is the parasite.\n\n\"That's it,\" Nicola says.\n\n\"Okay, now let me look at a sample of Stolz's blood.\" I suggest. \"Is it my imagination, or is the parasite in Cole's blood moving a little slower?\"\n\nNicola comes over, bends down, and takes a look. \"I think you are right, Kobi. I think initially when the staff at the facility was infected by Dr. Elliot, the parasite was extremely aggressive, probably because of the chemical it was soaking in. The parasites in Cole's blood are the transmitted parasites and appear\n\nto be less aggressive. This is interesting.\"\n\n\"I'm going to go back to the command post. Do you want me to mention this to Geoff?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I think he might want to know. Ask him to come back here if he doesn't mind. I'll show him what we saw.\"\n\n\"Okay. See you later.\"\n\nI walk into the command post and see Derrick sitting at the table reading a magazine. I walk over and put my arms around his neck and say, \"Hi Baby.\"\n\n\"Hey there, Sweetheart. You look tired.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I am a little bit. Hey Geoff, Nicola wants to see you in the lab.\"\n\nGeoff exits the command post and I turn my attention back to Derrick.\n\n\"What time is it?\" I ask.\n\n\"It's almost 6:00 o'clock. Dane is going to take Monti back home today. There isn't anything more he can do here, so he is ready to go back. We're going to miss him around here.\"\n\n\"I know. Where are they now?\"\n\n\"They went to pick up dinner for everyone. They should be back in a few minutes.\"\n\n\"Sound good. Geoff suggested we move into a hotel here in Darwin, compliments of the CDC. It is a lot more convenient than driving 45 minutes one way back and forth to Dane's house. Dane has been offered a room as well.\"\n\n\"I think that is a great idea. I can hang out in the room instead of here in the command post if I want to.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry. I feel bad now. This is our honeymoon and I am ignoring you.\"\n\n\"Don't be silly. This is exactly where you need to be right now. What a\n\ngreat opportunity for you. Don't feel bad at all.\"\n\nJust at that moment, Dane and Monti walk in with dinner. \"Excellent! \"I am so hungry, I could eat a horse,\" Dane says as he flips the box open and grabs a huge sandwich.\n\n\"When are you guys heading out, Dane?\" I ask.\n\n\"Well, the plan is to go back to my house tonight. Derrick and I need to pack up everything so we can get settled into the hotel tomorrow. We will leave my house in the morning, drop Monti off, and go back to my house and load up the car. After all, you do have a mountain of suitcases, don't you?\"\n\n\"Yeah, we sure do. I guess the smart thing for me to do then, is check into the hotel tonight.\" I suggest.\n\n\"That would probably be the best thing. You can get here bright and early in the morning, and I will be in around noon,\" Derrick says.\n\n\"Well, okay,\" I say getting up after dinner, \"you be careful and I'll see you tomorrow. I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you, too!\"\n\nI am just starting down the hall when Geoff calls me into his office. \"Listen, Kobi, I really need you to fly to Perth and meet up with the CDC Director there. I want to exhume the body of Thom Smithton and test the septic tank for the parasite. Do you feel confident in your ability to correctly identify the parasite?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do. When do you want me to leave?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow afternoon, if you can swing it. The CDC has a plane at Darwin International you can use. Take Dane and Derrick with you.\"\n\n\"Really? That would be great. Thanks. What kind of airplane is it, if you\n\ndon't mind my asking?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, it's a big business jet, that's all I know. That's a strange question for you to ask.\"\n\n\"I am interested because I am a pilot.\"\n\n\"You're kidding? Tell me how this came to be.\"\n\n\"I started flying when I was 16 years old, soloed on my 17th birthday and received my Private's Pilot License a few months later. I got my Instrument Rating and Commercial Certificate within the next year, and my Flight Instructor's Certificate when I was 18 years old, and taught flying full-time until I went to college. There is a little airport south of St Louis where I teach flying on the weekends, when I am not at the Medical Examiner's Office.\"\n\n\"Wow, you are an amazing woman, Kobi.\"\n\n\"I don't feel amazing, but thanks for the compliment. I need to call Derrick and Dane and let them know what the deal is for tomorrow so they can get an earlier start. May I use your phone please?\"\n\nI pick up the receiver and call Derrick's cell. They agree to get an earlier start and will be here by 10:00 a.m. My work is done here for the night, so I decide to walk with Trevor to the hotel and check in. We agree to meet at 7:30 a.m. for breakfast and then walk to the lab together.\n\nChapter 17\n\nDay 18\n\nI wake up all alone in my hotel room, and start to think about the conversation I had with Cole yesterday. I really feel sorry for him and need to cheer him up somehow. I am in the shower washing my hair when I get the idea to buy Cole a rat. I have a rat at home and know what great company they are, so I think Cole would really enjoy having one.\n\nAfter my shower, I get dressed and grab a phone book out of the nightstand drawer. I start looking under pet stores and make a few calls. No rats. Then the thought hits me—a reptile store usually has rats for sale because what do snakes eat? Rats. Before I go to the reptile store, I am going to have breakfast.\n\nThe closest reptile store is 15 city blocks away, so I decide to hail a cab instead of walking that far. I go into the store and ask for a medium rat pup. Being a rat owner myself, I know it is best to buy them at a young age, because they are easier to train. If trained properly, they will become the most loving pet you can imagine. People don't give rats a fair chance.\n\nThe store owner asks me what kind of snake I have, and I tell him, \"It's not going to be used as food, it will be a pet.\" He looks at me like I'm crazy. I shrug my shoulders as if to say, oh well. He lets me go into the back room, so I can pick out the rat I want. I already know what I want though. I want a nice silvery gray rat, with a satin finish. I look through the drawer of rat pups and huddled in the corner, with his head under his body sleeping, is the perfect rat.\n\n\"That one--right there, that's the one I want.\"\n\nHe pulls the rat out of the drawer and hands him to me. The little fella looks at me with those black, beady, little eyes and I know he's the one. I decide to buy a small cage, some rat food, and a small hut to put on the inside of the cage, so he can crawl up inside when he sleeps. I thank the store owner and go back outside to the cab, which is waiting.\n\n\"Please take me to the Lab Facility at the Darwin Hospital.\"\n\n\"Good Morning, Geoff,\" I say, as I enter the command post. \"Dane and Derrick will be here at 10:00 a.m. We will need to put some things in the hotel room, but should be airborne by 11:00 a.m. It will take us about three and a half hours to get to Perth. What's going on?\"\n\nHe explains that Nicola was here until midnight experimenting with the embalming fluid. Initial observations show that the strength of the embalming fluid used at the funeral homes is not sufficient to kill the parasite. She has contacted the pharmaceutical company that manufacturers the chemical, and they are sending a much stronger version today. The plane left at 5:00 a.m. and is scheduled to land at 9:00 a.m. Marcus will meet the plane at the airport and transport the chemical back here to the lab.\n\nThat is not good news because that means that the septic tank in Perth is probably contaminated, and the body we are going to exhume is probably still filled with the parasite. Luckily, we don't need to bring any biohazard suits with us because the CDC in Perth will have all of the equipment and protective clothing we need.\n\n\"It sounds like we are going to busy in Perth.\"\n\nI excuse myself and walk outside of the command post to get the rat, and the cage with all its accessories. \"I'll be right back, Geoff. I picked up a present for Cole this morning on my way in.\"\n\n\"What is it, Kobi?\"\n\n\"Come with me and you'll find out.\"\n\nI get to Cole's room and knock on the glass. He comes to the window and says, \"Good morning Kobi, Geoff.\"\n\n\"Hey Cole, how are you doing today?\"\n\n\"I'm feeling good, thanks. What's in the box?\"\n\n\"I got you a present today on my way in. I am going to slip it through the bottom panel access on the door. Ready?\"\n\n\"Got it. Can I open it?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"Uhhh, it's a rat!\"\n\n\"I know, isn't he adorable?\"\n\n\"Yeah, he is, but it's a rat. Why a rat?\"\n\n\"Well, I have to tell you a story. You know Derrick loves snakes, right? We have a Ball Python at home, and every Sunday, Derrick gives the snake a medium rat pup for dinner. On this particular Sunday, the snake wasn't interested in eating at all. So, we took the rat out of the container we were feeding the snake in and tried again the next day. We tried three more times to feed the rat to the snake and the snake wasn't interested. The rat actually climbed up the body of the snake to get out of the container. I thought that was pretty cool.\"\n\n\"This isn't that rat, is it?\"\n\n\"No, so anyway, I was going to release the rat into the wooded area behind our house, but it was too cold, so I thought I would wait until Spring to release him. Well, I fell in love with the rat. I couldn't let him go because he is, without a doubt, the best pet I have ever had. If I am home, he is out of his cage, perched on my shoulder or sitting with me in my chair. He eats dinner with me and even has his own plate. Rats get a bad rap because of the plague that killed 25 million people, but it wasn't the rats that carried the plague, it was the fleas on the rats. They are very clean animals with no odor at all. My rat's name is Buddee.\"\n\n\"Gee Kobi, thanks. No one has ever thought enough of me to buy me a rat,\" he says with a half grin on his face. \"No seriously, thanks. He will be good company. So, does Derrick still have the snake at the house?\"\n\n\"Yeah, he does, but I don't feed it or even watch the snake eat anymore. I can't because I see the rat being suffocated and can't help but think of Buddee. I would have missed out on one of the most wonderful little animals in the world. Here is a picture of Buddee right here. Isn't he cute?\"\n\n\"He is adorable. He looks just like this guy,\" Cole comments.\n\n\"I know, that's why I got him. Look at his face. If you look at him from this angle, nose to nose, you can see a faint, white, ring around his nose. I love that. And look at his little hands, they are so human-like, except they don't have thumbs--see the little knuckles and the fingernails. I think the back feet look like the feet of a T-Rex. Don't you? Look at his ears, they're paper thin. You can see right through them.\"\n\n\"Kobi, you are so funny. I have never met anyone quite like you!\" Geoff says as he pats me on the shoulder. \"Cole, I'll see you later. Enjoy Rattee.\"\n\n\"Thanks. Hey Kobi, I think I will name it Buddy, if that's okay with you,\" Cole says smiling.\n\nI just smile and nod my head yes. I walk away with my hand in the air waving goodbye.\n\n\"That was very thoughtful of you to buy Cole a rat. It will be good company for him,\" Geoff comments.\n\nMarcus is coming down the hall with the chemicals Nicola requested from the company. That means the plane has landed and we can head to the airport as soon as Derrick and Dane get here.\n\nTrevor and Nicola have given me a copy of all the information they have on the parasite to give to the CDC Director in Perth. If there is an outbreak there, this information will be useful. My phone is ringing, and I know it is probably Derrick.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Hi, Honey. We are at the hotel putting everything in the room. Are you\n\nready to go?\"\n\n\"Yes I am. Give me about 15 minutes, and I will meet you in the lobby of the hotel.\"\n\n\"Okay, see you in a little while.\"\n\nI swing by the command post to say goodbye to Geoff, then I am out the door. I walk into the lobby and Derrick is waiting for me.\n\n\"Where's Dane?\n\n\"He will be right down. I packed your bag for you. I hope I didn't forget anything.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Babe.\"\n\nDane comes jogging into the lobby and is ready to go. We have the hotel shuttle us to the airport and drive us right out to the plane. It is a huge corporate jet sitting all alone out there on the tarmac. The pilot is downstairs doing his walk around. We go to the pilot and introduce ourselves.\n\n\"Hi, I'm Kobi Reed, and this is my husband, Derrick. This is our guide and friend, Dane.\"\n\n\"Good morning, I'm Henderson Smith, pleased to meet you.\"\n\n\"Henderson, do you mind if I fly right seat with you today? I am a pilot and would love to see how she flies.\"\n\n\"No problem at all, Kobi. I'd love the company. I'll even let you get a little autopilot off action if you want to.\"\n\n\"Now you're talking. Hey Derrick, I'm his co-pilot today. You can see me in action.\"\n\nHenderson is not from Australia; he is an American. I wonder how he ended up down here? This big plane is a lot different from the Cessna 172 I currently use for instruction back home. I am sitting here in awe of the sophisticated equipment and having trouble finding the instruments I know, like an artificial horizon. This cockpit is one of those fancy glass cockpits that little Cessnas don't have. Henderson explains everything to me as we taxi out. He shows me the airspeed indicator, the artificial horizon, the gear handle, the flaps, and the engine instruments. Wow, this plane is amazing.\n\nChapter 18\n\nThe tower has cleared us for takeoff, so Henderson rolls out onto the runway and lines her up on the centerline. The throttles are going up, engine temperatures and settings--checked, and we are rolling down the runway, accelerating very quickly. He slowly pulls back on the yoke, the nose lifts off, and we are airborne. He looks at me and motions for me to put the gear up. I grab the handle and lift it up. Gear up and locked. Then he tells me to lift the flap handle and place the lever at zero degrees. Done.\n\n\"Henderson, this is a sweet ride. It must be awesome to fly in an airplane like this all the time,\" I say to him with eyes as big as a kid's, I'm sure. \"Where did you learn to fly?\"\n\n\"Well, I actually started as a Lieutenant in the Army National Guard and later switched to the Air Force Reserves. I wasn't a pilot then, but a navigator. I spent over 20 years in the Armed Forces, and eventually retired. I decided I wanted to become a pilot, so I went to an accelerated flight school in Florida and obtained all of my ratings in a year. I flew as an Instructor, and did a little bit of charter work until I got enough hours to fly for a corporation. I flew for an oil company as copilot on a Falcon 20. I finally acquired enough hours to pilot this airplane.\"\n\n\"How did you end up in Australia?\"\n\n\"My daughter's mother, whom I never married, is a professor at the University of Darwin and I wanted to be near my daughter. I applied for the CDC pilot position, and they hired me.\"\n\n\"That's a great story.\"\n\nHenderson asks for my story in return, so I give him the skinny version of my life up to now.\n\n\"So, how did you and Derrick meet?\"\n\n\"We actually met in the cafeteria at college. I am from O'Fallon, Illinois, about 20 miles east of St. Louis, MO. I graduated from O'Fallon High School, class of 2005 and started college that fall. I am working on my medical degree, and my end goal is to be a Medical Examiner. I am a part-time Medical Lab Technician in the Medical Examiner's Office right now, until I finish my degree, which should be some time next year. My dad worked at the Air Force Base as a Civil Servant for Department of Defense, and my mom was a seventh grade math teacher.\n\nDerrick is from Los Angeles. He moved to St. Louis when he was nine\n\nyears old, because his dad was on the coaching staff for the Los Angeles Rams, a professional football team. The team moved to St. Louis in 1995, so his dad moved the family out there as well. We dated for four years before finally deciding to get married. Derrick is a Zoologist at the St. Louis Zoo.\"\n\n\"How interesting, a Medical Examiner. That's not a very common job, is it?\"\n\n\"No, not really. I have always loved a good mystery and used to watch the 'whodunit' shows on television. It's like being a detective, but without all the danger that goes with that title. Dead people still have a story to tell.\"\n\n\"Hopefully, they are dead. Have you ever had a body sit up on you or move?\"\n\n\"Luckily, no. That is my biggest fear.\"\n\n\"Oh, look outside, Kobi, that is the Australian Outback down there. There is absolutely nothing out there, not even a road. Talk about desolate.\"\n\nI turn around and yell at Derrick to look outside. He peers out the window and then looks back at me shaking his head from side to side.\n\n\"Wow, that's a whole lot of nothing,\" he yells up the aisle to me.\n\nI didn't mention how luxurious the inside of this plane is. The interior is all leather and carpeted to match the leather. There is a wet bar, fully stocked, and a bathroom in the rear. I wonder if this is how the movie stars travel? I could get used to this!\n\n\"Okay Kobi. We are Flight Level 310 (31,000 feet). I am taking it off autopilot, so grab the yoke and get a feel for her.\"\n\nI lightly put both hands on the yoke and he turns off the autopilot. I expect the plane to feel heavy and unresponsive to the little movement, but this airplane is not. It is very responsive to every little movement I make. He tells me to descend 200 feet, so I ease off on the power just a little bit and push the yoke forward. Before I know it we have passed the altitude I was supposed to stop at, so I give it a little bit of power and climb back up to the altitude I am supposed to be holding. Now let me try a turn. 20 degrees left, then 40 degrees right and back to center heading 250 degrees.\n\n\"This is seriously a cool airplane, Henderson. Thanks for letting me fly for a while. It makes me miss my weekend job as a Flight Instructor.\"\n\nI glance down at the instruments and calculate that we are about an hour and a half from Perth. The CDC maintains a secure frequency on the radio, so I ask Henderson if I can give them a call so they can meet us at the airport with a van. Henderson is going to remain in Perth as long as we are there, and has offered to help us if we need anything.\n\nI see on the horizon the city of Perth. It is an enormous city perched right next to the water. We are being vectored for landing by Air Traffic Control and eventually cleared by the tower to land. Henderson greases the landing. I barely feel the wheels touch the ground. We pull into the General Aviation side of the airport and see the CDC van waiting for us.\n\nHenderson stops the airplane and shuts down the engines. The four of us exit the airplane, and we see two men getting out of a CDC van. They walk over to us and introduce themselves.\n\n\"G'day. I'm Taylor, the CDC Director here in Perth, and this is Matthew, one of our Biologists,\" he says as he extends his hand.\n\nDane meets his hand with a firm handshake and says, \"Pleased to meet you.\"\n\nDerrick shakes Taylor's hand and introduces us. Taylor helps us load the bags in the car and says, \"I reckon you will want to check into the hotel before we go to the funeral home.\"\n\n\"That would be great,\" Derrick replies.\n\nWe are checked into the hotel and on our way to the funeral home. Taylor brought some containers with him for the samples. Once we collect the waste, we will drive to the CDC lab and look at the sample in a secure environment. We arrive at the funeral home on time and meet with Mr. Dackett. He shows us where the cap is for the septic tank. Taylor carefully unscrews the top and sticks a long pole with a cup on the end down into the septic tank. Slowly, he pulls the sample out of the top and pours it into a vial. We need to be especially careful not to touch the sample at all. Once the container is sealed, it is placed in a locked box for transport.\n\nWe arrive at the lab about 30 minutes later. Taylor and I suit up and go straight to the hazardous section of the lab. Several samples of waste are placed on three different microscope slides to be examined. I glance at the first sample, and it appears normal. The second sample, however, has the parasite in it, as does the third. We immediately contact Mr. Dackett and tell him about the parasite in his septic tank. We are very fortunate that the contents of the tank have not been emptied yet.\n\nI decide to give Geoff a call and let him know what we have found here. Also, I am curious to know how everyone is doing at the lab.\n\nAfter a few rings, I hear \"Hello.\"\n\n\"Hi Geoff, its Kobi.\"\n\n\"Hi Kobi, how are you?\"\n\n\"We are doing well. We just got finished testing the septic tank behind the funeral home, and it is infected with the parasite. The tank has not been emptied since he performed the procedure, so I don't think we have a problem other than what's in the tank. It is totally contained for now. We know bleach kills the parasite, so Taylor is having 150 liters delivered to the funeral home. He will pour all of it into the septic tank and seal it up. We will come back in two days to check it again.\"\n\n\"Sounds like you have everything under control, Kobi.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I think so. I told Mr. Dackett to leave the tank alone. I contacted the septic cleaning service company myself and told them not to empty the tank. I told them it was infected with a nasty bacteria, and we were working on neutralizing it. I lied a little, because I don't want to create a panic.\"\n\n\"Good thinking, Kobi. I think you made the right decision by contacting the service company, because I know services like that are usually automated, and they may empty it before Mr. Dackett can stop them. Make sure that Taylor puts the CDC tape over the septic drain hole after the bleach is put in.\"\n\n\"What is CDC tape?\"\n\n\"It's like a yellow and black 'Police, do not cross' tape used at crime scenes, only it says 'CDC Hazardous Material. Do Not Touch'.\n\n\"Okay, Geoff. How is everything at the lab?\"\n\n\"Marci is a lot worse. She was in so much pain today, we decided it would be best to place her in a medicated coma. Her urine is dark brown and the whites of her eyes are totally brown now. I don't think she will last much longer. Sevi, Evan, and Stolz have a few more dark spots today than they did yesterday. Cole is doing fine. He is constantly talking to his rat, and hasn't put him down since you gave it to him. I think he will probably sleep with him tonight. That rat was a great idea.\"\n\n\"Be sure to tell Cole hello for me. Hopefully we will be back in a few days. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon after we exhume the body. Taylor has already talked to the local authorities, and Mr. Dackett will be there with us when we pull the body up.\"\n\n\"Sounds good, Kobi. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night.\"\n\n\"Good night, Geoff.\"\n\nWe are finished at the lab for the evening, so Taylor drives us back to the hotel. Derrick, Dane, and I decide to grab a bite of dinner before turning in for the night. The hotel has a very nice little restaurant, just off the main lobby. As we enter, we see Henderson sitting at a back table all by himself. He sees us and motions for us to come over. He hasn't ordered dinner yet, so our timing is perfect. The waiter comes to the table and asks us if we would like anything to drink. Dane and Derrick order a beer, and I decide to have a glass of wine.\n\nThere is a lot to choose from on the menu, but the seafood platter has caught my eye. There is nothing fried on the platter, only steamed rock lobster, mud crabs, and prawns. Derrick and Dane both order the Flathead fish, and Henderson is having the steak.\n\n\"How long do you think we will be here, Kobi?\" Henderson questions.\n\n\"Maybe another day or two. You are more than welcome to join us tomorrow if you want to. We are going north to exhume a body and check it for parasites.\"\n\n\"Gee, Kobi, you make it sound so inviting. No thanks. I'll stay here and do a little shopping for my daughter.\"\n\n\"Okay, have it your way,\" I say with a sideways grin.\n\nOur dinner arrives, and it looks and smells fantastic. I take a bite of the fresh scallops and shrimp, and the flavor explodes in my mouth. It is so good. Everyone seems to be enjoying their dinner as much as I am. Derrick and Dane are enjoying the snapper, and Henderson's steak looks very tender. After the meal, we sit and visit for a few hours and then decide to turn in for the night.\n\n\"Good night, Henderson.\"\n\n\"Good night, Kobi. You guys sleep well.\"\n\nI glance back at Henderson, nod my head and wave. Derrick and I get into our room and immediately go to the shower--together. It feels good to be alone and enjoy each other. We go to bed and lie there for a few minutes just talking about everything that has happened. It's hard to believe all of this is happening while we are here on our honeymoon. I just hope they find a cure and close the book on this crisis before Derrick has to go home. I really don't want to say goodbye to him in ten days.\n\nChapter 19\n\nDay 19\n\nDerrick and I get up around 8:00 a.m., get dressed, and head downstairs to the restaurant for some breakfast. Dane shows up about 9:00 a.m. looking a little tired. He tells us that he went to his room, tried to fall asleep, but couldn't, so he came back down here to the bar and ended up staying here until it closed around 2:00 a.m. Lucky for us, he's not driving today.\n\nAfter breakfast, we meet Taylor in front of the hotel. There is a huge vehicle out front that reminds me of a bread truck. This is the CDC's portable lab, complete with hazardous suits, microscopes, and a shower for decontamination purposes, if needed. Taylor is parked behind the CDC truck in a very large SUV that I assume we will be riding in. We say our good mornings and start the 200 kilometers drive to Mrs. Jones' house.\n\n\"Taylor, what is the plan after we exhume the body?\" I ask.\n\n\"We will make four incisions in the body. One in the chest, stomach, arm, and leg. If we discover the body is infected with the parasite, it will be soaked in bleach, and burned just like the dingoes. We will also need to check the soil around the coffin for contamination,\" Taylor explains.\n\nDerrick is curious about the ground water around the burial site. It raises a good question. If the body is infected, it could seep into the ground and contaminate the water that she and the employees use. The sheep could all be infected as well, since they use that water too. There are a lot of possible problems in the works if this body is infected. Matthew will be taking charge of the decontamination procedures, should we find evidence of the parasite at the sheep station.\n\nI am surprised to see that most of the yards here don't really have any grass. I guess I just assumed that living next to the coast would yield a lush, green, environment. The yards consist mostly of sand and rock. The one advantage to not having a lush, green, yard, is you don't have to worry about mowing. I did see one yard that had really green grass, but Taylor told me it was a special grass that doesn't need watering at all. It is plastic! Ha Ha...actually, that's not a bad idea.\n\nWe finally arrive at the sheep station around 12:30 p.m., and notice that we are the first ones to arrive. Taylor pulls the SUV into the driveway, while Matthew parks the CDC truck closer to the family graveyard. We exit the car and walk up to the front door of this beautiful old house. Taylors knocks several times before an elderly lady answers the door. Taylor introduces us, and she introduces herself as Mrs. Jones. Dane steps forward.\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, I'm Dane Walker, we spoke on the phone. It's very nice to meet you.\"\n\n\"Oh, hello, Mr. Walker. It's very nice to meet you and your friends.\"\n\nTaylor gives her a quick synopsis of what we are going to be doing here today, and promises to keep her posted. The local authorities will be here at 1:00 p.m., which gives us time to get everything set up. First of all, we want to drape a plastic tent around the gravesite. We don't want everyone staring at the body. It's disrespectful. Second, this will allow us to control the environment the body is exposed to. There will be no dust or wind to disturb us. Everything is ready, so now we just need the authorities and the diggers to arrive.\n\nThe local authorities finally arrive, and the diggers are ready to go. Mrs. Jones gives the final okay, and they begin digging. It takes them about half an hour to get the dirt out and raise the coffin. It is then carried into the shelter and placed on the table. Mr. Dackett and Taylor are opening the coffin. As the lid is raised, we immediately see that the body is indeed infected, because the body is almost entirely black. Mr. Dackett looks shocked and advises us that this was not the condition of the body when it was buried. The parasite is alive and looking for its next victim.\n\nTaylor tells everyone to leave, except CDC employees, Mr. Dackett, and me. He takes a scalpel and removes a tissue sample from the chest cavity and places it in a plastic container with a lid. He also takes tissue from the stomach, arms, and leg. All of these samples are sealed and put in an airtight container and sealed with CDC tape. Taylor and I take the container to the CDC lab truck.\n\nMatthew excuses himself and goes to the truck for a big bottle of bleach. He brings the bleach inside the tent, then walks to a spot about 100 yards away and starts building a fire. While he is doing that, Taylor takes off his hazardous suit and proceeds over to Mrs. Jones to deliver the bad news. I am going with him.\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, may we go inside for a moment.\"\n\n\"Sure, come right in.\"\n\nTaylor proceeds to tell her the entire story about the dingoes and the infectious parasite.\n\n\"We think your son-in-law has been infected with the parasite. Unfortunately, the only way to kill the parasite is to soak it in bleach and then burn it. We are going to have to burn his body immediately.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's terrible.\" Mrs. Jones understands totally and doesn't question our decision at all.\n\nMatthew comes into the tent about 20 minutes after starting the fire and pours bleach all over the body while it is in the coffin. The bleach will need to soak in thoroughly before the body can be put in the fire. Luckily, the coffin is made of some kind of special-treated wood and will burn, if the fire is hot enough. From the looks of the fire, it's hot enough. This works out great because no one will need to touch the body. The coffin can be carried and placed on the fire as is.\n\nThe next thing we need to do is get a sample of the soil around the coffin to see if it is contaminated. Taylor has this instrument that looks like a grabber with a small cylinder device attached to the end. As he shoves it into the ground, the cylinder fills up with dirt. The tip of the device is then placed into a container and a handle is squeezed, allowing whatever is in the cylinder to fall out. It reminds me of a tool I use at home to dig holes for bulbs. You twist it around, the cylinder fills up with dirt, and then you squeeze the handle together and the dirt falls out. It is the same principle but on a much smaller scale.\n\nAs the body burns, Taylor asks me to go to the well and get a few samples of the water. After collecting the samples, we all go into the truck and look at the samples we have collected to determine if we have a problem or not. As expected, the body is infected with the parasite. I add a little liquid to the dirt so I can look at it under a microscope slide easier and am shocked to see traces of the parasite swimming arround.\n\nTaylor looks at me and says, \"I think we need to exhume the bodies of the daughter and the grandson as well. If the parasite is in the soil, it may have penetrated through the coffins to the other bodies. We will need Mrs. Jones' permission. Let's go talk to her.\"\n\nWe take off out suits and walk up to the house where Mrs. Jones is sitting on her front porch. Taylor explains the situation to here and she looks very upset. She really doesn't want to disturb her daughter's final resting place, but she understands and allows us to proceed with the exhumation of her daughter and grandson. Taylor advises the authorities, and the diggers get right to work digging up the two bodies. The daughter's coffin is removed first, than the smaller coffin belonging to the grandson.\n\nTaylor and I suit up again, and with the help of the funeral director, we open up her coffin. We slowly raise the lid and see her lying there so peaceful and perfect. There is no parasite evidence in the coffin or on her body. We will collect a sample of her tissue and check it anyway, but I'm sure it will show no evidence. As expected, the sample shows no parasite. Now, we have to check the grandson. The tiny lid is removed from the coffin, and inside lying just as peaceful as an angel is this precious little boy with light blond hair. It really tugs hard at my heart to see this little boy on a bed of white satin, dead. We check him too just to make sure. There is no parasite in his coffin either. We will leave the bodies out of the ground until we rid the soil of the parasite. Taylor asks Matthew to set up a trailer by the cemetery to store the coffins in until they can be placed back in the ground.\n\nThe next sample to be checked is the water. I am crossing my fingers that the parasite isn't in the water because if it is, we have a serious problem on the sheep station. I put the slide on the microscope stage and slowly put my eyes up to the eyepiece. I twist the focus knob. There it is--the parasite.\n\n\"Taylor, have a look. It's right there in the station's water supply.\"\n\n\"Shit! We better start collecting blood samples from everyone on the sheep station,\" Taylor says regrettably.\n\nDerrick and Dane shake their head because they realize we have an outbreak here on the station. This is bad. Mr. Dackett asks us if there is anything more he can do, and we tell him no. He is going to return to Perth. I ask Derrick if he wants to go back to the hotel, since I will be here a while.\n\n\"No way, Sweetheart. I'm not going to leave you alone. I know there's nothing I can do, but Dane and I want to see this thing through. The sheep probably need to be herded and contained. Maybe I can help with that. Also, do you want samples of the sheep's blood? That--I can do.\"\n\n\"Let me check with Taylor. Hey Taylor, so do you want to get the sheep corralled and tested as well for the parasite? I think it would be a good idea.\"\n\n\"Yes, Kobi. That's a great idea.\"\n\n\"Dane and Derrick have offered to corral them and get blood samples if\n\nthat's okay with you. Derrick is a Zoologist and knows a thing or two about animals.\"\n\n\"That's an excellent idea. Make sure they get suited up before collecting the blood samples.\"\n\n\"Okay. Derrick, you've got the green light from the boss. Be careful and be sure to suit up before you start messing with their blood.\"\n\nDane and Derrick head off to the stables, grab a couple of horses and start doing their thing. Taylor and I are going to talk to Mrs. Jones about our findings. It is not going to be easy telling her.\n\n\"Mrs. Jones,\" Taylor says, \"May we please go to the house and have a word with you?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. What have you and your team discovered?\"\n\n\"Well, Mrs. Jones, I'm afraid it is very bad news. We tested the soil where the coffin was, and it is infected with the parasite, so we decided to check your water, too. Mrs. Jones, please have a seat,\" Taylor says as he pulls the chair out from under the table for her. \"I'm sorry, but your drinking water and the water you give to the sheep are also infected with the parasite. I am going to need a blood sample from you and everyone on your payroll here. We will also need to get your sheep rounded up and contained so we can check their blood.\"\n\n\"A blood sample, from me. Why? I'm not infected. I feel fine.\"\n\n\"I know Mrs. Jones, and I hope you don't have the parasite, but we really need to check, okay?\" I say calmly to her, as I rub her shoulder for reassurance.\n\nTaylor gets a small blood sample from her.\n\n\"I will be right back Mrs. Jones,\" Taylor says as he exits the room. \"I am\n\ngoing to check the blood right now. Be right back.\"\n\nMrs. Jones is very upset and more worried about losing her livestock than she is about being sick herself. She looks at me with tears in her eyes and asks, \"What if the sheep are infected? Will they need to be destroyed or can they be saved?\"\n\n\"If the sheep are infected, they will be quarantined here at the station. We have a team of doctors in Darwin working around the clock trying to find a cure for the parasite.\"\n\nTaylor comes running back into the house very excited and completely out of breath. \"Taylor, what is it? Catch your breath a minute,\" I say.\n\n\"She's not infected! I checked her blood and there is no parasite in it. I can't believe it. Kobi, go take a look under the microscope just to be sure.\"\n\nI walk out to the truck and look at her blood. He is right--there is no parasite. How is that possible? How odd that the water is infected and she isn't. I go back inside the house and confirm that there is no parasite. Mrs. Jones is happy not to be infected, but is still worried about her sheep.\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, Kobi and I are going to get back to work now. We need to check the blood samples we are collecting from your employees. When we finish checking their blood, we will check the sheep. About how many head of sheep do you have on the property?\"\n\n\"Last time I checked I had about 150 sheep.\"\n\n\"Okay, thanks Mrs. Jones.\"\n\nTaylor and I look at each other and take a deep breath because we know that this is going to be a very long day. Instead of getting blood from every animal, I suggest we collect blood from every fifth sheep coming through the gate. That's 30 vials of blood instead of 150. It will take a lot of manpower to collect and test the blood, so this option works best for this situation. Chances are if 30 sheep are infected, the entire herd will be.\n\nChapter 20\n\nMatthew has finished collecting blood from the nine employees, and Derrick and Dane are busy corralling the sheep. Once they get the sheep into the holding pen, they will direct them into a long chute where the blood can be taken from every fifth animal. Derrick and Dane will collect the blood while the sheep handlers corral them into the upper pasture, where they will be quarantined until further notice. Each sheep has a tag number on his ear; that is how we will keep track of the samples and find out which ones are bad.\n\nTaylor and I get busy with the employees' blood. We are putting a small sample of the blood on a microscope slide. The slide is placed on the stage of the microscope and looked at carefully. The first sample is positive. The second sample--positive. Third--positive. All nine of the samples test positive for the parasite. We expected them to be infected since they live here on the station, so we don't need to worry about it spreading to the public right now.\n\nCorralling the sheep into the low pasture is taking a lot longer than anticipated. They are scattered all over the land. So, it's going to be a while before we are ready to start testing the sheep blood. We are probably going to spend the night in a little hotel we saw not too far from here in Morawa. As soon as Derrick and Dane are finished gathering up the sheep and collecting blood, we will call it a day and check into the hotel.\n\nTaylor decides to physically check each one of the employees for any discoloration they may have. I told him exactly what to look for, so he shouldn't need my help. I decide to give Geoff a quick call.\n\n\"Hi, Geoff. It's Kobi.\"\n\n\"Hey, Kobi, what's going on?\"\n\n\"You first. What's going on there?\"\n\n\"Well, I have some bad news. Marci died earlier this evening. We had her in the medical coma, but the parasite finally took over, and she stopped breathing. Stolz is pretty shaken up about it and wanted to personally dispose of her body in the incinerator.\"\n\n\"Oh, that is terrible. Are Nicola and Trevor any closer to finding an antidote?\"\n\n\"No, not really. The stronger strength embalming fluid kills the parasite. The problem now is figuring out how to administer it to a patient without the obvious other problems. No one has ever tried injecting embalming fluid into a living person, so we are exploring unchartered territory. We are talking to the mortician here in Darwin, he thinks that the formaldehyde will probably kill the flesh, especially at the injection site. If it is injected into the bloodstream, he thinks it will cause immediate death.\"\n\nGeoff continues, \"We don't really know where to go from here with the embalming fluid option. The only thing we can do is infect a mouse with the parasite and inject a small amount of the embalming fluid into the mouse and see what happens. I am not confident that the outcome will be positive. Tell me what is happening at the station.\"\n\n\"The body was infected, so we had to burn it. The soil around the grave is also infected, and so is the drinking water. Since the soil was infected with the parasite, we had to exhume the bodies of her daughter and grandson. Luckily, they were not infected. Her property has a well, and an independent groundwater system. We are going to have some surveyors confirm that the water here does not tie into any other water system, just to be safe. All nine of the employees here are infected. Here is the odd thing, Geoff. Mrs. Jones is not infected. She drinks and cooks with the infected water and is not infected. How can that be?\"\n\n\"I don't know, Kobi. Find out if she is on any type of medication. Get a full list with the dosage information. Also, if she is taking any kind of herbs or oils like flaxseed or fish, get that information too.\"\n\n\"Okay, I'll ask her. I make a list for you and send it as soon as I can. She also has about 150 sheep that are going to be tested as well. Derrick and Dane are in charge of corralling the sheep and collecting the blood. They are out there right now searching for the sheep to bring in. I think it's going to take them a lot longer than they anticipated to find them. She has about 500 acres out here, so it may take until dark or even maybe part of tomorrow to get them in.\"\n\n\"I'm glad Derrick is able to help. How are you going to test all of the animals?\"\n\n\"We are planning to draw blood randomly. The sample size will be 30 sheep which is one fifth of the herd. Chances are, if all 30 are infected, the whole herd will be. They will all be held in quarantine. I'll get a medication list and fax it to you. I think there is a fax in the lab truck. Give me your fax and I'll call you when I send it.\"\n\nGeoff gives me the number and we hang up for now. I go back inside the house and find Mrs. Jones sitting at the kitchen table. I tell her that all of the employees are infected with the parasite. She is just sick about it and feels responsible for their situation. But, I assure her that it is not her fault—she had no idea that Thom's body was infected.\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, are you taking any medication on a regular basis?\"\n\n\"Yes. I am on a whole lot of medicine actually. Hang on, I will get the list for you. I have it typed and saved on the computer because every time I go to the doctor, they want a current list of medications. I got tired of writing it down every single time, so I typed it. I'll be right back.\"\n\nShe leaves the room and walks towards the back of the house. I am really thirsty and would love a drink, so I go to the kitchen and grab a glass. As I am holding it up to the faucet, I realize what I am doing. Holy cow!! I quickly go outside to the lab truck and get a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge in the back. It's funny how we are creatures of habit.\n\nMrs. Jones returns to the kitchen after about ten minutes, and apologizes for taking so long. \"My computer is a dinosaur and I think the squirrels running on the inside, keeping things moving, are elderly.\"\n\n\"No problem, Mrs. Jones. Thank you so much. My boss in Darwin thinks that perhaps something in this list of medications has made you immune to the parasite. The cure might be on this piece of paper. Please excuse me while I go to the truck and fax this list to Darwin. I'll be right back.\"\n\nI go to the truck and fax the list to Geoff. I immediately call him to let him know I'm sending the list. \"It's on the way. We are going to stay at a hotel a little closer to the station tonight. I'll give you a call in the morning when we are back on site. Good night, Geoff.\" He tells me to get some rest and we'll talk later on.\n\nDerrick and Dane are done for the evening. It is getting dark fast, and they haven't found all the sheep yet. They will get an early start tomorrow and hopefully by noon, we can start the testing. I poke my head inside Mrs. Jones' house and tell her good night. She knows we will be back bright and early in the morning, but I assured her not to worry about having coffee for us. We will bring our own.\n\nSo, we are off to the hotel. It's only about twenty minutes from the station and an easy drive. The hotel is nothing to brag about, but all we need is a place to park our heads for the evening. When we check in, we tell the desk clerk to expect us for three nights. Hopefully, it won't take that long, but we reserve the rooms just to be sure. Taylor and Matthew are securing the samples and the lab truck while we check in.\n\nLuckily there is a restaurant attached to the hotel, so we grab a quick bite before we shower and go to bed. The food is nothing fancy or exotic, but it is good and fills the vacant space in our bellies. I will call Geoff first thing in the morning to check on things. But for now, just a shower and some sleep.\n\nChapter 21\n\nDay 20\n\nI am the first one up and out of bed this morning. I check the time and see that it is only 5:30 a.m., but that's okay. I wanted to get an early start today anyway. I go to the bathroom, wash my face, brush my teeth and hair, and get dressed. I wake up Derrick, and he does the same--except he is walking a little bow-legged. I think riding that horse has made him a little stiff this morning.\n\n\"I remember now why I stopped riding horses. My groin is a little stiff today, can you tell?\"\n\nI start giggling a little and say, \"No, I didn't notice, Cowboy.\"\n\nHe smiles and we leave the room and walk to the café for breakfast. All I\n\nwant right now is a big cup of coffee with lots of sugar. Then I want bacon, six slices of bacon, and some scrambled eggs. Dane, Taylor, and Matthew show up about 20 minutes after we sit down. We all enjoy the big breakfast and order a couple of thermoses of coffee to go. We'll stop at a store on our way to the station to get water and snacks for the day. Taylor grabs a couple of cases of water for the people in quarantine.\n\nTaylor has called his CDC office and requested a team to come to the sheep station and oversee the quarantine procedures. Also, animal services has been contacted, and they will be taking measures to make sure the sheep are being watered and fed. Taylor has thought of everything. On the way to Mrs. Jones' place, I decide to give Geoff a call and find out what happened overnight. Here is the list of medications I sent him last night:\n\nAdvair 500/50 2 times daily\n\nMucinex\n\nNeurontin 300 mg/3 times daily\n\nMeloxicam 7.5 mg\n\nTramadol 50 mg/3 times daily\n\nTylenol 750 mg/3 times daily\n\nLosartan Potassium 50 mg\n\nPravastatin 40 mg\n\nVerapamil Er 240 mg\n\nAspirin 81 mg\n\nSingular 10 mg\n\nAmbien 5 mg\n\nXalatan\n\nTrimethoprim 100mg\n\nAcidophylus\n\nFlaxseed Oil 1000 mg\n\nVitamin D 1000 mg\n\nCalcium 1500 mg\n\nMulti Vitamins\n\nFish Oil 1000 mg\n\nPreservision with 20 mg Lutein\n\nCo Q 10 75 mg\n\n\"So what did Nicole and Trevor think about the list of medicines?\"\n\n\"We all still find it amazing that she is not infected, and to think that perhaps one of these medicines or a combination of some could be what made her immune. Nicola and Trevor did experiments with formaldehyde on a clean sample of blood, and the results were devastating, so there was no need to test the fluid on a mouse. All of the red blood cells dissolved almost immediately. Needless to say, the embalming fluid antidote theory is dead in the water. I'm glad we have a lead with the medicines. I know they are in the lab right now brainstorming.\"\n\n\"I'm glad we do too. How's Cole? And the rest of the guys?\"\n\n\"Cole and Buddy are doing great. You should see him with that rat. They are never apart. He even sleeps with that thing. In the mornings, I usually go say hi to Cole and see how he is feeling. I can hear him all the way down the hall having a conversation with the rat. He's asking him if he is hungry, is the milk good, and so forth. Sometimes, I stop and listen before I approach the glass, because he is totally into that rat, and the conversation is so cute. The other three guys are hanging in there. The discoloration is getting more pronounced, but they say they feel fine.\"\n\nWe are pulling in the sheep station, so I say goodbye to Geoff. I'll call him later today when we are done. We park the truck next to the plastic tent we left set up overnight. Mrs. Jones is sitting on her front porch waiting for us. I give her a wave as we park the vehicles. Dane is pleased to see what appears to be, the entire herd of sheep being held in the lower pasture. He asks Mrs. Jones about it, and she tells us that the sheep handlers got an early start this morning and rounded up the rest of the sheep. I know Derrick is happy about that because I'm not sure he could have ridden a horse today.\n\n\"Excellent! Let's go get some blood, Dane. I sound like a vampire don't I?\" Derrick jokes.\n\nThe workers at the station have designed a system for collecting the blood. Right now the sheep are in the lower pasture. There are several hundred feet of cattle fencing between the lower and upper pasture that will be used as a walkway for the sheep. Right before the entrance to the upper pasture corral is a hydraulic cattle chute. Every fifth sheep will be held in the chute while the blood is drawn from a vein in the neck. Derrick will draw the blood and Dane will write down the ear tag number on the sample.\n\nDerrick and Dane are both in position and the parade of sheep begins. The plan is working perfectly. I know Derrick is glad the chute is hydraulic, because if it were a manual chute, I think he would be exhausted after ten sheep. The samples are placed in a container designed specifically to hold vials, but extra care is being taken to avoid an accident.\n\nI see in the distance a convoy of cars coming up the long, dusty driveway.\n\nIt is the CDC team and the animal control officers. Located alongside the main house are individual rooms used by the workers. Each room has a bedroom, bathroom, and a small kitchenette. The CDC team is going to set up a quarantine area around those rooms.\n\nThe animal control officers have made their way to the upper pasture where the 150 head of sheep are being held. They immediately reinforce the fencing and build dozens of troughs to be used for water and feed. They also brought with them a very large water buffalo--a bigger version of the one Dane used for Derrick and me. The water buffalo is used to store large amounts of water. The sheep need to be given fresh water, and this is the only option that will work.\n\nDerrick and Dane are finishing collecting the blood samples from the sheep and are making their way back to the CDC lab truck. I saw Derrick knock on the door of the truck and pass the box full of vials to Taylor so he can start analyzing them. Derrick and Dane proceed over to the upper pasture and ask if there is anything they can do.\n\nOne of the workers told him they were almost done and didn't need anything, but appreciated the offer. So Derrick and Dane stand up on the fencing and look like a couple of stable hands tending their flock. It's a good look for Derrick.\n\n\"Hey Derrick, I am going to help Taylor with the blood samples. You look good standing up there with your blue jeans on and that cowboy hat riding low on your forehead,\" I say with raised eyebrows.\n\nHe smiles at me and tips his hat. What a man!! He is just over six feet tall and about 195 pounds of solid muscle. He has beautiful light golden brown eyes with subtle shades of hazel in them. I can't see his hair right now, but it is a light brown with blonde highlights from the sun. He keeps his face shaven clean, which I am very happy about.\n\nI walk into the lab truck and get suited up to help analyze the blood. Taylor and I decide the best way to organize and keep the samples from getting mixed up is to write the sheep's tag number on the slide. I have the list that Dane gave Taylor, so I will write all of the tag numbers on the slides. Then, one by one, Taylor will place a small sample of blood on each slide and put the cover over it. The sample will be checked, and if it is positive, I will place a check next to the tag number on the sheet.\n\nSo, we begin the process. Slide by slide we analyze the sheep's blood. When we are done with one vial, it is placed in a bucket of bleach, along with the microscope slide and the dropper. We have to use a clean dropper for each sample to avoid contamination. The process is working great. There is no confusion and no mess, just the bucket of bleach that will be drained tomorrow. The droppers, slides, and vials will be burned by Matthew.\n\nIt takes the remainder of the day to test all of the sheeps' blood. Every single sample was infected with the parasite, so we assume the entire herd is contaminated. While Taylor and I were analyzing the blood, Matthew poured hundreds of gallons of bleach into the station's water supply. He also poured a large amount of bleach into the grave and the surrounding soil where Thom's body was exhumed. The water and the soil will be tested again tomorrow.\n\nOur work is done for now. \"Let's go talk to Mrs. Jones, Kobi,\" Taylor says. \"Matthew, can you come with us please?\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Matthew answers.\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, we have finished checking the sheeps' blood. I'm so sorry to\n\nhave to tell you that all 30 samples were infected with the parasite. So, we have to assume that the entire herd is infected. But, don't give up on them yet. There is still time to find a cure and save your employees and the herd. Think positive, and don't use the water at all. We have plenty of water for you to use during the next couple of days.\"\n\nMatthew speaks up and says, \"Mrs. Jones, please flush out your water, using the faucets on the outside of the house. I have prepositioned large troughs with bleach in them under each faucet. Please run each faucet for ten minutes as soon as you wake up in the morning. Hopefully, that will kill any parasites that are in the pipes leading to the house. Also, I want you to run the faucets in your house to get the water circulating through the system. I have left a bottle of bleach by the kitchen sink and in the bathroom. After the water runs for ten minutes, pour some bleach into all your inside drains and allow water to flow for another minute. The CDC team will do the same thing in the living quarters for your employees.\"\n\nMrs. Jones nods her head indicating to us that she understands exactly what she needs to do. But, just in case she questions herself later, Matthew has the instructions written down for her on a piece of paper and will put it on the kitchen table.\n\n\"Kobi and her crew are going to return to Darwin day after tomorrow. We will be here with you until the crisis is over,\" Taylor explains.\n\n\"Thank you both so much. Kobi, will you be back tomorrow?\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, we will all be back here after lunch. We need to give the bleach time to kill the parasite before we check things out. If you need anything or have any questions while we are gone, the CDC quarantine crew will be here, so just ask. Is there anything you need us to bring you from town? Do you have enough groceries?\"\n\n\"I am running low on bread and milk. Are you sure you don't mind?\"\n\n\"Of course not! I'll be happy to bring you anything you need. In fact, here is my phone number. If you think of anything else you need tonight, please call me. I'll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Jones.\" I lift up my hand and give her a wave as I walk out the kitchen. She holds up her tiny little hand and gives me a wave back.\n\nChapter 22\n\nTaylor and I walk out of her house and down the steps with heavy hearts. This poor old woman is on the verge of losing everything she has worked for. I wish there were something else we could do for her. I am standing at the bottom of the porch stairs glancing at the lay-out of the station.\n\nWhen we first drove up, I didn't take the time to notice how beautiful it is out here. All I could think about was doing the job we came here to do. But, now that we are just about finished, my mind has a chance to absorb the vastness and the beauty of the striking landscape. Looking off in the distance, I see rolling hills of brilliant green. Slopes going left to right, and right to left. Nestled right in between the slopes is a grove of trees in full color. The sky that hangs above the slopes is a cerulean blue with wisps of white painted across the top. I walk out a little more into the yard and tilt my head up to the sun. It feels wonderful hitting my face. Mrs. Jones comes to the door and sees me and just smiles.\n\n\"Kobi, why don't you and Derrick take a couple of horses and ride out to the edge of the station. It is very pretty out there under that grove of trees. From there you will get a good view of the station and the main house.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Mrs. Jones. That sounds like a great idea. I scan the pasture and\n\ncatch Derrick looking at me. I motion for him to come over, and he nods his head, as if to say okay.\n\n\"Hey Honey, what's up?\"\n\n\"Mrs. Jones suggested that you and I take a couple of horses and ride out to the edge of her property. Turn around. Just have a look at how beautiful that view is. Are you game for a ride?\"\n\n\"With you? You bet. I'll go saddle up the horses for us. You guys don't mind, do you?\" Derrick says as he waves goodbye to Dane and Taylor.\n\n\"No Mate, you go have a ride with your new bride. Dane and I will go talk to the quarantine crew for an hour or so. We will see you in a bit,\" Taylor says.\n\nAfter 15 minutes or so, I see Derrick walking out of the stable with two horses, saddled up and ready to go. It has been a long time since I have been on a horse, but I'm sure it's like riding a bike. You never forget how, right? Wrong. I can't even get on this horse. When I was little, I weighed a lot less, about 100 pounds, maybe. But, now that I am mature and 30 pounds heavier, it is taking a little more momentum to swing my leg over the saddle and mount up.\n\nAfter a few tries, I'm on and ready to ride. It doesn't take me long to get\n\nthe hang of riding again. I rather like it! Derrick and I slowly walk the horses out towards the meadow by the grove of trees. It's easy to see where the sheep have been because the grass is worn down and discolored. The ride is not disappointing at all. When we do finally get to the grove of trees nestled right up against the slopes, we see how lovely it is. We get off the horses and walk over to the biggest tree we see and have a seat in the grass.\n\n\"It is awesome up here, isn't it? Look down there at the sheep station. It looks huge from up here, doesn't it?\" I observe.\n\n\"What a breathtaking sight. Look at the old house. I feel like I am looking at a brochure. It is almost surreal. Hard to believe that anything bad is going on down there,\" Derrick remarks.\n\n\"I know.\"\n\nAfter about 45 minutes, Derrick and I decide to make our way back to the stables. We are finished for the day and I am sure the guys would like to head back to the hotel. We take the saddles off and give the horses a rub-down before leaving.\n\n\"I just want to tell Mrs. Jones that we are leaving and will be back tomorrow. Give me two minutes,\" I say. I quickly run inside, tell her we are leaving, and then I am back in the truck ready to go.\n\nOn the way back to the hotel, I call Henderson.\n\n\"Henderson, it's Kobi.\"\n\n\"Hey, when are you coming back?\"\n\n\"We will be back tomorrow night, late. We would like to take off the next morning. Will that work for you?\"\n\n\"I'm here for ya'll. Whenever you are ready to go, I'm ready to go.\"\n\n\"Great. I'll give you a call when we get back to the hotel tomorrow night, okay?\"\n\n\"Sounds good, Kobi. Let's all have dinner together.\"\n\n\"It might be 7:00 p.m. before we get there, is that too late?\"\n\n\"No, that's fine. I'll wait. Drive safe tomorrow.\"\n\n\"We will. I'll see you tomorrow.\"\n\nHe is such a nice guy. It's time to turn in for the day. Tomorrow we can sleep late because we aren't planning on going to the station until 11:00 p.m. Matthew wanted to give the bleach 12 hours to take effect. I'm really glad we can relax tonight and don't have to worry about time. I want to give Geoff a call tonight and see what's going on back in Darwin.\n\nAll of us are famished and stop at a restaurant before going back to the hotel. It's only 7:00 p.m., so I suggest we sit here for a while, chat and relax. We have been working some long hours lately, and I am starting to feel a little fatigued. We are all wondering if the bleach is going to do the trick. We can only hope.\n\nTaylor decides to call one of his friends in Perth who has a business that involves water purification. The problem with Mrs. Jones' farm is that the water will be totally unusable for quite some time because of the amount of bleach we put in the water. Taylor wants to find out what can be done to help improve her water without needing to find another source.\n\nAfter hanging up, he tells us that his friend has offered to drive up to the station and meet us after lunch tomorrow. He will check out the situation, test the water to see exactly what impurities are in the water and go from there. He has agreed to help Mrs. Jones, free of charge, because Taylor explained her situation in detail. Taylor tells his friend that the CDC will pick up the tab for his supplies. What a kind-hearted thing to do.\n\nWe are finally done with dinner and have relaxed to the point of falling asleep. I glance at my watch and see the time is 8:30 p.m. I say my good nights and Derrick and I retire to our hotel room. I need to call Geoff and find out how everyone is doing.\n\n\"Geoff, it's Kobi. How is everyone doing over there?\n\n\"Everyone is doing well. We went to a local drugstore and picked up all of the medicines that were on the list that you faxed me. There was only one thing on the list that the pharmacy didn't have--Ambien. We have contacted the pharmaceutical company and they are going to ship some to us first thing in the morning. Nicola and Trevor are building the database with the medicines so the experiments can be tracked and adjusted as required. I wish it were as simple as dissolving the drug in water and adding the parasite, but it has to be so precise. Only one variable can be changed at a time so we can identify what works and what doesn't.\"\n\n\"I can't wait to get back so I can start helping you guys. Let me catch you up on what's happening here. The entire herd of sheep is infected and we are holding the sheep in the upper pasture. All of the employees are in their quarters in quarantine. The CDC in Perth sent a team to oversee the quarantine, and Animal Control Services has taken over the task of tending the sheep. They have built troughs for water and feed. Matthew dumped bleach into the water supply and over the ground where Thom was buried. We will be going back to the station after lunch tomorrow, because he wants to give the bleach about 12 hours to work on the water and soil before we test it again. Taylor has a friend from Perth that will help Mrs. Jones with the purification of her water system. We should be in Darwin day after tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I'm sure between you and Taylor, you haven't forgotten anything.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Geoff, I appreciate that. Do you want me to call you tomorrow or just wait until we see you day after tomorrow?\"\n\n\"Just call me before you take off so we know when to expect you.\"\n\n\"That sounds good, Geoff. Tell everyone I said hi.\"\n\nDerrick and I are more than ready to turn in for the evening. I know we are on our honeymoon and should be acting more like a honey-mooning couple, but the circumstances are such that neither one of has the desire nor the energy to carry on in that way. Both of us understand and feel the same way, so it's not a problem. We have the rest of our lives together, so right now we are focused on trying to save lives.\n\nChapter 23\n\nDay 21\n\nIt feels great to sleep in this morning. I open my eyes and glance over in Derrick's direction and see he is sleeping soundly. I decide to roll over and put my head on his chest for a little snuggle. He puts his arm around me and we lie there for about a half hour with no words. We are just enjoying the closeness without the sex.\n\nAfter a quick bite of lunch, Taylor, Matthew, and I get into the lab truck and head toward the station. There is no reason for Derrick and Dane to come with us; all we are going to do is test the water, the soil, and clean up the trough Matthew prepositioned around the house. Once we have everything in order, we will head back to the hotel. It should only take a couple of hours. We stop at a little grocery store to buy bread and milk.\n\nThe first thing we do when we arrive at the station is go to Mrs. Jones' house. Matthew knocks on the door, and within a few seconds, she opens the door with a smile and invites us in. I hand her the bread and milk and she politely says thank you and invites us to have a seat at her kitchen table. We picked up some coffee and muffins for her too.\n\n\"I did everything just like you asked me to. I finished with the bathroom about half an hour ago,\" Mrs. Jones says, as if she was very proud of herself.\n\n\"That's great ma'am,\" Matthew says as he nods his head. \"I am going to get a sample from the kitchen sink and the bathroom. I'll be right back.\" Matthew walks into the kitchen and collects a sample in a vial and then walks to the rear of the house to get the sample from the bathroom.\n\n\"Did you sleep well, Mrs. Jones?\" I ask.\n\n\"Oh, yes, Kobi, I sure did. How about you?\"\n\n\"I slept fine. I enjoyed sleeping a little late today. It is the first day in about three weeks I have been able to do that.\"\n\nMatthew is finished collecting the samples. \"Mrs. Jones, we are going into the truck and check the water supply to see if the bleach has killed the parasite,\" he says.\n\nThe three of us make our way to the truck. Matthew hands the samples to Taylor and tells us that he is going to collect a soil sample as well. Taylor and I suit up and I hand him the first slide. He eases it up to the microscope. Taylor peers into the eyepiece for a long time and then looks at me and says, \"You better have a look.\"\n\nOf course, judging by the look on his face, I think the worst. But once I look into the eyepiece, I see nothing. I look again and still see nothing. I look up over the eyepiece at Taylor, who is grinning like an opossum, and give him the evil eye. We both start to laugh because the parasite is dead. Unbelievable! Just then, Matthew knocks on the door to the truck. Taylor opens the door and gives Matthew the good news. Matthew hands him the soil sample. So just as before, we mix a little water with the dirt and place it under the microscope. Again, no parasite.\n\n\"I think we have cleaned up this station, Kobi,\" Taylor says as he gives me a thumbs up. \"Let's go tell Mrs. Jones.\"\n\nMrs. Jones is very happy to hear the news about the water and the soil, but she is not as happy as I thought she would be. I ask her if everything is okay. She tells me that she is still concerned about her men and the sheep. I totally understand her position and apologize for not being more sensitive to her dilemma. She assures me that I do not need to apologize. She understands our excitement about cleaning up the water and the soil.\n\nWhile we are talking in the kitchen, Taylor hears a car pull up outside. He excuses himself and walks out the front door. Within a minute or two, he walks back in with a very tall man in his mid-fifties. \"Everyone, I would like you to meet Ken. He is the friend I was telling you about. He has a water purification business in Perth and has agreed to come out here and help you, Mrs. Jones, to purify your drinking water again,\" Taylor says.\n\nKen walks over to Mrs. Jones, shakes her hand and says, \"Nice to make your acquaintance ma'am.\"\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, I am going to do is test the water today, just to get an idea of\n\nwhat sort of impurities are present. I know we have a lot of bleach, since that's what was used to kill the parasite, but I will check the water for other things. Once it is determined what is in the water supply, I will develop a course of action to be taken on getting your water system back up and running. This will not cost you a dime, Mrs. Jones. I am donating my time and the CDC is paying for all of the supplies.\"\n\nMrs. Jones has this look of shock on her face. She can't believe that Ken is going to do all of this for her at no cost. She is very thankful and extends her arms to Ken signaling that she wants to hug him. He stands up and returns the hug. Ken, Taylor, and I excuse ourselves and head out to the lab. Ken needs a sample of the water supply, so we go to the well and pump him out about a gallon.\n\nHe pours some of the water into this cool gadget that looks like a pan flute--lots of clear chambers, all lined up, one right next to the other. He pulls out a toolbox full of chemicals and starts dropping different drops into each cylinder of water. Some of the water changes colors, and some don't. I have no idea what any of that means, but Ken knows.\n\n\"This is good news you guys. I'm not going to have a problem with her water system. It is going to be easy to purify, and I should have it done within a week. Because, so much bleach was used, we will have to wait a while and counteract it with something else. It is a process, but it can be done.\"\n\nThat is great news. I know Mrs. Jones will be glad to hear it. We decide to go up to the house and deliver the news, and let her know we will be returning to Darwin the next morning. She is sorry to hear that we are leaving.\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, we'll call you in a few days to see how everything is going.\n\nI'll let you know what's going on back at the lab in Darwin. As soon as we have an antidote, Taylor and I will come back and give it to your employees and all of the sheep. Don't worry, we won't forget about you, I promise.\"\n\n\"She looks at me with that beautiful smile and says, \"I know you won't forget. Thank you very much for everything. I really appreciate all you've done.\"\n\n\"It was our pleasure Mrs. Jones,\" Taylor says as he shakes her hand.\n\nI reach my arms out for her and give her a big hug. She hugs me back, tightly. Not bad for an eighty year old lady, strong like an ox.\n\nTaylor, Matthew, and I get into the truck and make our way back to the hotel. All of a sudden, just like I had been hit with a bolt of lightning, I stop dead in my tracks, \"Taylor, what about the horses? We didn't test them and they are drinking from the same water supply. The sheep and horses have been urinating and defecating all over the land. Don't we need to test that too? If their feces are infected, how are we going to control the parasite in the upper pasture?\" I ask in a panic.\n\n\"I didn't think of that, Kobi. I don't know. My job might not be done here after all.\"\n\nI get on the phone and give Derrick a call and ask him to get Dane and come back to the station. I see Derrick and Dane pull up about 30 minutes later. They both come running up to the truck wondering what in the heck is going on.\n\n\"Derrick, remember yesterday when we were riding up in the meadow and\n\nwe commented about the feces being everywhere?\"\n\nImmediately, I could see Derrick's face change, his eyes got bigger, and his mouth opened slightly. He knew exactly what I was talking about.\n\n\"Derrick, would you and Dane draw blood from the horses please. I am going to collect a sample of the sheep waste, and get a soil sample from their grazing area. We may have to call in a hazardous team to decontaminate the entire area.\"\n\nDerrick runs back to the truck to gather up needles and supplies he needs to draw blood from the horses. Matthew quickly jumps into high gear and starts helping get the supplies together. Dane has the horses in the stable and is numbering them right now. We are all operating like a well-oiled machine. Everyone knows what to do without needing to be told what to do.\n\nTaylor comes back with soil and waste samples as well. He quickly suits up and checks the samples. After about 30 minutes, he comes out of the truck and gives me the long face. The property is infected. If it is in the soil and the waste, then it is probably in the urine which means it is in the soil—everywhere the sheep have been.\n\nTaylor gets on the phone and calls the CDC office in Perth and orders a decontamination (decon) team to be dispatched immediately to the property for an emergency decon operation. Taylor asks me to go talk to Mrs. Jones and let her know what all the commotion is. So, I take a deep breath and make my way back to the house. She obviously sees me coming and meets me at the door.\n\n\"Did you forget something?\"\n\n\"No Ma'am, but I'm afraid I have more bad news. I noticed yesterday, when Derrick and I were riding around the area where the sheep graze most of the time, there were a lot of feces from the sheep.\"\n\nI could see her sway just a little bit and suggested that she go sit down on the couch. She looked at me and said, \"What about my land? Is it infected too?\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, it is. Taylor already checked and the parasite is all over the place. Chances are that the horses are going to be infected as well. We have already called a decontamination crew to come out here and decontaminate the property. It will more than likely involve crop dusters spreading bleach throughout the property just like they do with insecticides. The problem is we do not know how big the parasite circle is. It may be contained on your property, and then again, it may not. That will be the decontamination crew's job to make sure the parasite is destroyed and contained. I'm so sorry.\"\n\nThe poor old woman looked as though I had punched her in the gut. I can only imagine how she must be feeling right now. So, all the work with the water and the soil earlier was probably a waste of time because if the parasite is all over the property, it will get into the water supply again. I'm sure Taylor has thought of that and will call Ken and tell him not to do anything right now. Once the station is clear of the parasite, he will call Ken back. I excuse myself and walk out of the house to check on Derrick and Dane.\n\nDerrick and Dane are finished drawing blood from the horses. Luckily, there are only seven horses in the stable. I decide to suit up and give Taylor a hand checking the samples. One by one they are checked, and all of them are infected, as expected. Taylor decides just to keep the horses in the stable and alerts the animal control officers.\n\n\"Good call, Kobi. You may have saved the day here in Australia,\" Taylor says as he pats me on the shoulder. \"I should have thought of that.\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter. I just hope the team will be able to get this situation under control. Do you need us to stay and help you through this, or...\"\n\nBefore I can finish my question, Taylor shakes his head no.\n\n\"There is nothing else we can do here today. Matthew and I will be back tomorrow. The other CDC team is scheduled to arrive at 1:00 p.m.,\" Taylor says.\n\n\"Okay, let me go say goodbye to Mrs. Jones,\" I say sadly.\n\nI run back to the house and tell her that I will be back soon. She thanks me for everything and gives me a hug. I run down the porch stairs and turn to wave again. She is crying and waving. \"Bye,\" I tell her.\n\n\"Taylor, are you sure you don't want the three of us to stay here with you?\"\n\n\"No, Kobi. There really isn't anything else you can do. The work that needs to be done now is strictly decontamination procedures. You did what you came here to do. I know what the parasite looks like and can take it from here. You were extremely helpful and I appreciate your input and time so much. That goes for you two guys in the back as well. I couldn't have done it without you.\"\n\n\"No problem, Taylor.\" We will surely keep you posted on the progress from Darwin. We are going to drive back to Perth tonight. Do you mind if we take the SUV and leave the truck with you and Matthew?\"\n\n\"No, not at all. Just leave the keys with the front desk attendant at your hotel when you leave. Feel free to use it tonight if you want to. We will pick it up when we return.\"\n\n\"Thanks Taylor, we really appreciate that. I'll see you soon, hopefully with the antidote\"\n\nDerrick, Dane, and I quickly go to our rooms and get everything packed up. It is about 2:00 p.m. when we finally get on the road headed back to Perth. I decided to give Geoff a call and fill him in on the last development at the station, plus, I really want to know what's going on back at the lab.\n\nGeoff takes the news well and is looking forward to our returning to Darwin. He did have a little good news. One of the drugs, Pravastatin, was dissolved in saline solution and added to blood that was infected with the parasite. After about an hour, the parasite stopped moving; it wasn't destroyed, but it was rendered docile. So, they are making progress there.\n\nWe pull up to the hotel about 5:30 and check in. I immediately give Henderson a call to let him know that we have arrived.\n\n\"Hey Henderson, we are here. Do you want to meet us in the lobby at 7:00 p.m. for dinner?\"\n\n\"Absolutely!\"\n\n\"Great. We'll see you then.\"\n\nDerrick tells me to get cleaned up first. He has an errand to run. So, I get cleaned up and decide to make myself extra pretty tonight. I pull out the only sexy thing I packed and put it on. It is a sleeveless, black, spandex dress that fits me like a glove. I am putting on my shoes when I hear a click, and in walks Derrick.\n\nHe has a little bag in his hand. I walk out of the bathroom and ask, \"Is that for me?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is.\"\n\nI slowly open the bag and see a box inside the bag. I take the box out, open it, and see a beautiful locket with a chain. It is an oval L'Amour locket, 9ct yellow gold necklace. He takes the locket and secures it around my neck.\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"I just want to say--I love you, Kobi.\"\n\n\"I love you too.\"\n\nDerrick gets cleaned up and on our way downstairs, we knock on Dane's door. We all head down to the lobby and see Henderson waiting on the couch.\n\n\"Wow, Kobi, you look amazing.\n\n\"Thanks!\"\n\n\"So, what do you guys feel like eating for dinner?\" Henderson asks.\n\nDane says, \"Meat. I want meat.\"\n\n\"Let's ask the concierge if there is a good restaurant nearby,\" Derrick suggests.\n\nSo we make our way to the concierge desk and ask if he knows a place where we can get a variety of foods. He suggests the Old Brewery. He gives us directions and we make our way through town to the place.\n\nOnce we arrive at the restaurant, we are impressed; it is a classy, beautiful place. We are seated at a table and handed a menu. This is the biggest menu I have ever seen. It takes me almost 15 minutes to look at everything on the menu before I make up my mind. Derrick and I have decided to share the Grass and Grain fed Black Angus one kg bone-in Roasted Sirloin. Dane is having a double Wagyu Burger, and Henderson is having the Eight Rib Rack of Lamb. We seal the order with a nice bottle of wine, a 1997 Peter Rumball, from Coonawarra SA.\n\nThe wine arrives within a minute or two. Henderson volunteers to be the wine taster and deems it fit for our consumption. Fit is an understatement. The wine is exquisite and hearty. Dinner arrives some time later and looks delicious. We enjoy the dinner and conversation very much. So much, in fact, that 10:00 p.m. on my watch seems impossible.\n\nWe tell everyone good night, and agree to meet in the morning for breakfast.\n\nChapter 24\n\nDay 22\n\nAs we are walking in the front entrance of the restaurant for breakfast, I hear, \"Hey Kobi, over here.\" I look in the general direction of the voice and see Henderson already sitting at a table. The three of us walk over and have a seat.\n\n\"Good morning, Henderson. How are you this morning?\" I ask.\n\n\"I'm great. How are you guys?\n\n\"We are doing fine. How is the weather looking for the flight today?\" Dane inquires.\n\n\"The weather is clear the whole way. Just a little clear air turbulence forecast at the higher altitudes. Other than that, it should be smooth flying.\"\n\n\"Sounds good,\" I say.\n\nDeciding what to eat for breakfast isn't easy this morning. The menu has too many options. I am looking at the French toast plate, with eggs and bacon. But then I see out the corner of my eye, a pecan waffle, like the one we have at this great waffle house near St. Louis. That's the winner right there. I am going to get a pecan waffle with bacon and eggs. I also want a glass of chocolate milk and a cup of coffee.\n\n\"Wow, I'm surprised you can eat that much after the large dinner we had last night,\" Henderson says.\n\n\"Watch me,\" I say smiling.\n\n\"So what time are we planning to takeoff?\" I ask.\n\n\"I'm going to flight plan us for a 10:00 a.m. takeoff. Since the forecast is for moderate to severe clear air turbulence at all altitudes above FL 330, we will be flying at FL330 (33,000 feet) today. I've been in moderate turbulence before and it is not my idea of a party.\"\n\nAfter breakfast, we head back to the hotel, get our bags, and check out. There is a shuttle bus in front of the hotel waiting to take us to the airport, so we will leave the keys to the car with the front desk attendant. All of the suitcases are loaded in the van and we are off to the airport. The van pulls up in front of the General Aviation building. The driver gets out and helps us unload the suitcases and wishes us a safe flight.\n\nHenderson is inside activating his flight plan and paying for the fuel and hangar expenses. He comes outside about 30 minutes later and tells us that we are good to go. The lineman is pulling the airplane out of the hangar and will be parking it right here in front of the building. He stops there, hops off, disconnects the tow bar, and moves the vehicle out of the way. Then, he pulls out this rolled up red carpet and places it in front of the plane entrance, and rolls it all the way back to the front of the building where we are standing. That is service. How come they don't roll out the red carpet for me at home when I pull up in my Cessna 172?\n\nWe load the luggage into the airplane and secure the compartment doors. I immediately yell, \"Shotgun!\" Everyone knows what that means. It means I get to ride right seat in the cockpit. Henderson just smiles and asks me if I want to work the radios today.\n\n\"Duuhh!\" I say.\n\nWe pile into the jet and Henderson asks me to call for engine start.\n\n\"Perth Ground, Victor-Hotel-Charlie-Delta-Charlie starting engines.\"\n\n\"Roger, copy, Charlie-Delta-Charlie.\"\n\nHenderson starts the engines. \"Kobi, request taxi and clearance.\"\n\n\"Perth Ground, Charlie-Delta-Charlie requests taxi and clearance.\"\n\n\"Roger, cleared to taxi to Runway 21. Advise when ready to copy.\"\n\n\"Ready to copy.\" They give me our clearance for the flight to Darwin. I read it back to make sure I have copied it correctly.\n\nHenderson starts his taxi to Runway 21. He is performing his taxi checklist and making sure the other instruments are set up for departure. When we get to the hold line, we stop, and ground control tells us to contact Perth Tower for departure.\n\n\"Charlie-Delta-Charlie copies, switching to tower... Perth Tower, Charlie-Delta-Charlie ready for departure,\" I say\n\n\"Copy Charlie-Delta-Charlie, taxi into position and hold.\"\n\n\"Roger, on to hold,\" I reply.\n\nHenderson lines up the aircraft with the centerline and applies the brakes. The tower clears us for takeoff. Henderson gradually adds power and starts to accelerate down the runway. This is a long runway, almost 12,000 feet. Obviously, we don't need that much runway, but I bet the heavy, big boys do when they take off.\n\nHenderson pulls back on the yoke and we are airborne. He signals me to raise the gear handle.\n\n\"Gear up and locked,\" I say enthusiastically.\n\nAs we accelerate, he calls for the flaps up. I lift the flap handle and place it in the zero degree position.\n\n\"Charlie-Delta-Charlie, contact departure,\" the tower says.\n\n\"Perth Departure, Charlie-Delta-Charlie, with you climbing to 8000 ft.\"\n\n\"Copy, you are cleared to FL 330.\"\n\n\"Roger, cleared to FL330,\" I respond. We continue to fly the departure as directed. This baby just about flies itself. What an amazing aircraft. Once we get to FL330, I squeeze off a call to departure letting them know we are level at FL330. They pass me off to another controller on another frequency.\n\n\"You worked those radios like a pro, Kobi.\"\n\n\"Thanks. Procedurally, it's all the same, no matter how big or small the aircraft. I am having a little trouble with the controllers' accent. I'm sure they have to listen to me carefully as well. You were right about the weather; it is absolutely beautiful up here today. Look at that blue. I think it's the bluest blue I have ever seen.\"\n\n\"So, Kobi, you haven't talked much about what happened at the station. I\n\ntake it the news is not good.\"\n\nI proceed to tell him everything that has happened, and he looks really bummed out. \"I feel sorry for her. So, once they find a cure, will you be flying back to Perth with the antidote?\"\n\n\"I would like to do that, but that decision will be Geoff's. I told Mrs. Jones that I would keep in touch with her, and if Geoff will let me, I will go back. Are you the only pilot the CDC has?\"\n\n\"No, they have an entire Aviation Department with a couple of jets just like this one. So, if you are going to fly back to Perth, ask Geoff to request me. I'd love to fly you guys back there.\"\n\n\"Thanks Henderson; that would be awesome. Do you want anything from the back? I am going to grab a soda.\n\n\"No, I'm good, thanks.\"\n\nI unbuckle my seatbelt and make my way back to the mini-fridge. There is a Coke. Perfect. On my way back to the cockpit, a sudden gust of wind hits the plane and knocks me into the ceiling.\n\n\"Ouch.\"\n\nI climb back into the cockpit and say, \"What was that?\"\n\nObviously, I knew what it was--a sudden burst of turbulence. It was a rhetorical question. I get myself strapped back into the seat and say to Henderson, \"That was a bit unexpected, wasn't it?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it was. Are you okay?\"\n\n\"I'm fine. My head became one with the ceiling for a second, but no harm\n\nwas done. I told the guys to keep their seat belts on in case we hit any more air pockets. I don't want to have to go back there and scrape them off the ceiling.\"\n\n\"Good thinking.\"\n\nI am looking out of the window at the ground, amazed at how desolate it is down there. I don't see a town anywhere. I imagine the only things living out there are the dingoes, kangaroos, and the locals. I am visually glued to the ground when a voice on the radio catches my attention.\n\nIt is Melbourne Center asking me to contact Brisbane Center on the radio. \"Roger, Charlie-Delta-Charlie copy all.\"\n\nI switch the frequency on the radio and check in with Brisbane. We should be landing in Darwin in about an hour and forty-five minutes. Suddenly, with no warning at all, the plane violently descends. I see the altimeter dropping rapidly. Then the airplane is going up again. Imagine a model airplane, if you will. You are holding this model airplane between your fingers, going up and down with it rapidly. That's what it feels like inside the airplane. The jarring is so intense that my teeth are being slammed together. Henderson is doing everything he can do to maintain control, but we are being forced down towards the earth extremely fast.\n\nThis must be the clear air turbulence the weather station warned him about. It has been known to bring down an airliner before. I just hope he can regain control of the airplane before that happens. I see Henderson fighting with the controls, just trying to hang on to the airplane, but he is having a very difficult time. No one is saying a word; I'm not sure if I am breathing right now. All I can hear is my heart beating loudly in my ears. It's like being on a fierce amusement\n\nride that never ends, thousands of feet off the ground.\n\nI manage to catch a glimpse of the altimeter, and we are passing 31,000 feet and still descending. It's hard to read the flight instruments because the bouncing is so severe. Henderson asks me to squeeze off a call to center, so I press the microphone button and say, \"Brisbane Center, this is Victor-Hotel-Charlie-Delta-Charlie, we are experiencing severe turbulence and are unable to maintain altitude. Be advised we will contact you once we regain level flight.\" I am having a hard time holding the microphone button because of the severe jolting of the aircraft. There is no response. I try again. Still, no response.\n\n\"Henderson, there is no response from Brisbane Center. \"\n\n\"Okay, keep trying please.\"\n\nAfter a few minutes, the bouncing stops and we are in control again. That was the most intense experience I have ever had. I glance over at Henderson, and he is sweating, and he's not smiling. We are at 28,000 feet, but something is wrong with the airplane.\n\n\"The airplane feels strange. Something isn't right, Kobi. I feel it.\" Henderson barely has a chance to finish his sentence when there is a loud bang, almost like an explosion, inside the airplane. There is a dense mist filling the air. Henderson yells at me to put on my oxygen mask. I reach back behind the co-pilot's seat and grab a quick-don mask hanging on the side of the bulkhead. I put the contraption on and turn the oxygen lever to the ON position. Henderson asks me to hold the yoke for a minute so he can put his oxygen on as well.\n\nHenderson starts a rapid descent, because he is trying to get to an altitude where Derrick and Dane won't need oxygen. Up here, at altitude, lack of oxygen can cause hypoxia. Basically, your body is being deprived of oxygen when you are hypoxic. The only maneuver that can be done in a pressurized aircraft is called a rapid descent. This is a forceful maneuver where the pilot forces the aircraft down to a lower altitude in a very aggressive manner.\n\nWhile Henderson is descending, he says, \"The turbulence we encountered must have overstressed the aircraft beyond its limits causing something structurally to give way, maybe a stress fracture, aggravated by the turbulence. The elevator feels heavy, very heavy.\"\n\nHe descends the airplane until we reach an altitude of 10,000 feet. The passengers are able to get adequate oxygen at this altitude, so Henderson starts to add power and pull back on the yoke to level it off. I look at the altimeter and we are passing through 10,000 feet. He can't level it off. Both of us remove our oxygen masks.\n\n\"Henderson, what's wrong?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I can't pull back on the yoke, it's stuck. I can't pull or push it. Something is jamming the controls. Pull, Kobi, see if we can break it loose.\"\n\nNothing happens. We are still descending and there is nothing we can do about it. I look back at Derrick and Dane and tell them to brace for impact. Henderson gets on the radio.\n\n\"Brisbane Center, this is Victor-Hotel-Charlie-Delta-Charlie. We have experienced a rapid, possibly an explosive decompression and have made an emergency descent to 10,000 feet but are unable to maintain altitude due to a jammed stabilizer. We are declaring an emergency at this time.\"\n\nThere is no response. \"We are unable to maintain level flight and will be forced to set her down. Brisbane, do you copy?\"\n\nStill, no response.\n\nHearing Henderson say those words sends shivers up and down my spine.\n\nWe are passing through 5000 feet. Henderson asks me to start looking outside for\n\na place to land. The landscape looks rough from up here, which could cause a problem for landing. It isn't nice and flat like a runway. I am looking in all directions, hoping to find a small town, or for that matter, anything that is green. All I see is desert. I can't believe this is happening. We are going to crash in the Outback.\n\n\"Kobi, set the Emergency frequency and declare an emergency for me please.\"\n\nI make the radio call and set the transponder to the emergency code.\n\n\"Henderson, I don't see anything. Do you see anything out of your window?\"\n\n\"No, I don't see anything either, but we really don't have a choice, because I can't control the up or down movement. Just below us is a relatively flat piece where I can set her down. It's not very big, but it's the only spot I see. I am going to circle it once and try to roll the airplane out on final. Here goes.\"\n\n\"What do you want me to do?\"\n\n\"Go ahead and put the flaps to 20 degrees.\"\n\n\"Check.\" Now he is slowing the airplane down so the gear can be put down.\n\n\"Gear down,\" he yells.\n\n\"Gear down and locked.\"\n\nHe is rolling the aircraft level, and all I see straight ahead is a bunch of rocks and uneven landscape. It's about as flat as it will get out here. We are descending at a rate of 200 feet per minute now. That doesn't sound like much, but when you impact at that rate, it is very significant. We are 500 feet above the ground, 400 feet, 300 feet, 200 feet—brace for impact—100 feet, and then BAM!\n\nWe hit with such force, I think I am three inches shorter. One of the landing gear breaks because the right wingtip is dragging the ground causing a violent yaw and then...\n\nChapter 25\n\nI feel someone shaking my shoulder from behind. \"Kobi, Kobi, get up. We have to get out. I lift my head and look around, dazed and disconnected.\n\n\"Derrick? Derrick? Where are you?\"\n\n\"I'm right here, Sweetheart. Are you okay?\"\n\n\"I think so. Are you okay?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm fine. Come on, we have to get out of here. We are leaking fuel and I smell smoke.\"\n\n\"Okay, I'm coming.\" I go to unbuckle my seatbelt and realize I can't lift my right hand. I look down at the wrist and see a big bump and a lot of bruising already. I think it is broken. I use my left hand and cup the wrist and hand so I can lift it. I am lucky to have a button up shirt on today, so I tuck my arm inside my shirt and use it like a make-shift sling.\n\nHenderson is slumped over the yoke. I place my left hand on his shoulder and give him a little shake. \"Henderson?\" I shake him again and he regains consciousness. He has a nasty gouge on his head, just above the right eye and it is bleeding badly.\n\n\"Come on man, we have to get out of here.\"\n\nWe both climb out of the cockpit and make our way to the exit. The tail section, just aft of the bathroom, is gone. It ripped off during the crash and is a couple of hundred feet back. Derrick is at the entrance waiting for both of us. He sees the blood on Henderson's head and immediately tears off a piece of his shirt and places it on the wound.\n\n\"Here, hold this on the cut and apply pressure to stop the bleeding,\" Derrick insists. \"Kobi, what's wrong with your arm?\"\n\n\"I think I broke my wrist. I'll show you later.\"\n\nDerrick, Henderson and I exit the airplane and get to a safe distance before I realize that Dane isn't with us.\n\n\"Derrick, where is Dane?\"\n\n\"He went back into the airplane to salvage any supplies he can find. We need water and the first aid kit. He thought it was worth the risk, going back in. He'll be okay. Don't worry.\"\n\nI squint at the plane and see Dane inside throwing stuff into a bag. \"Hurry up Dane, there is a gas leak.\" I see flames under the left wing so I start screaming at Dane. \"Get out! There is a fire!\"\n\nDane grabs the first aid kit, and is exiting the aircraft when it explodes.\n\nThe force of the explosion hurls Dane about 50 feet in the air. Dane is on fire and lying on the ground, face down. I feel the blast from way over here. Derrick runs over to Dane and extinguishes the flames with his hands. He rolls Dane over and checks for a pulse. He's alive! Derrick picks up Dane and carries him over to where we are sitting. Dane's face and arms have been burned, but I think he is going to be okay.\n\nHenderson is looking at the wreckage, watching the plane burn, when he mumbles, \"I'm so sorry.\"\n\n\"It wasn't your fault,\" Derrick says. \"We are all alive because of you. Thank you!\"\n\nWe are very lucky indeed. Henderson has a head injury, I have probably broken my wrist, and Dane has some burns on his face and arms. As far as I can tell, Derrick is fine. No one has a life-threatening injury, which is amazing after what just happened.\n\nThe four of us stand up and survey the land. Dane is looking for any landmark that might provide him with a clue as to where we are. The landscape is a burst sienna color speckled with dots of yellow with little short, stubby bushes as far as the eye can see. Off in the distance, I see a dark purple range of hills or mountains. Not sure which. It is dry and vast.\n\nIt is about 12:30 p.m. and getting very hot. Derrick gets the bag that Dane was filling up in the plane and sits down.\n\n\"Now, what do we have here?\" He starts taking everything out of the bag. \"It looks like we have 13 bottles of water, a few sodas, some juice boxes, and a dozen bags of peanuts. I also found an apple and two oranges in the mini-fridge. Not bad.\"\n\nHenderson punches Dane on the arm and says, \"Thanks for getting the supplies and the first aid kit out of the wreckage. You are a brave man.\"\n\n\"I second that!\" I say as I thrust my good hand up in the air.\n\nDane is very humble and not making a big deal about his act of valor. He is sitting up now, and I can clearly see the burns on his face. Dane is a tough cookie, as my mom use to say; he is tough as nails. The burns appear to be flash burns, not as bad as we initially thought. Derrick hands everyone a bottle of water. Dane opens up the first aid kit to take inventory. It is a fully stocked kit and has just about everything we need.\n\nHenderson's head needs stitches, and the only item in the kit we can use are some butterfly stitches. Dane removes a few from the package and walks over to Henderson. He uses a little of his water on a piece or gauze and cleans the wound. It is bleeding badly. Dane puts a small amount of the ointment on the wound and uses the butterfly stitches to close the gash. He gets a fresh gauze pad and cleans his head again. The bleeding is almost completely stopped. He takes a little more ointment and spreads it on the wound, and then tapes a clean gauze pad on top.\n\n\"Good as new, Buddy,\" Dane says with a smile.\n\n\"Thanks Dane, I appreciate that very much.\"\n\n\"I am going to run to the tail section and salvage anything out of our luggage I can find. I'll be right back,\" Henderson says.\n\n\"Hang on Henderson, I'll come with you.\"\n\nDerrick and Henderson start walking back to the tail section. Within a few minutes, I see Derrick coming out of the tail with one of my suitcases. He and Henderson are bringing all the bags out and piling them up close to where we are sitting. I am looking around, hoping to find an area that has a little shade, and there is none in sight. It is hot! I take a long swig of my water and look over to where Derrick is putting the luggage.\n\nDane comes up to me and says, \"Let me take a look at that arm.\"\n\nI pull my arm out of my shirt very slowly and hold it out for Dane to see.\n\n\"Crickey, Kobi, that looks bad. Judging by the redness and bruising around this area that is swollen, I think that wrist is broken. Hang on a minute. I am going to search through the suitcases for something I can use to make you a sling. I'll be right back.\"\n\nHenderson comes back for his water bottle and I ask, \"How is your head?\"\n\n\"I have a headache, but other than that I feel fine. How about you?\"\n\n\"I'm fine, just broke my wrist, that all. How long before they start looking for us.\"\n\n\"I don't know. I wasn't able to establish radio contact with the center before we crashed, so I can't say for sure. I'm sure they are organizing a search and rescue team right now.\"\n\nDane comes back with a piece of the airplane and a couple of his shirts. \"I found this little piece of the airplane hanging off of the tail section that I am going to use as a board for your arm.\"\n\nDane has a little trim tab from the stabilizer, which will work perfectly. First, he wraps the tab with a shirt so it has a little cushion to it, then he wraps my arm. Next, he places my arm on the tab so my fingers are hanging off the edge in front. Then, he takes a shirt, which he has ripped into strips, and secures the tab to my arm. He wraps and wraps my arm giving it plenty of cushion in case it gets bumped. Finally, he has made a sling out of one of Derrick's button up shirts. He puts the shirt around my arm and ties it at the back of my neck. A few more tucks and folds, and it's perfect.\n\n\"I know it hurts, Kobi, but does that feel secure?\"\n\n\"Yes, it does, Dane. Thank you so much. I am so glad you are here. I don't know what we would do without you.\" He just smiles at me.\n\n\"Now, let me take a look at your face, Dane. Is there any burn ointment in\n\nthe first aid kit?\"\n\n\"Yes, there is a tube right here.\" He hands me the tube.\n\n\"Dane, you need to get a soft cloth out of the suitcase and clean your face off, if you can. It is filthy after your face got planted in the dirt earlier.\"\n\nHe comes back with a towel, takes a little of the water from his bottle, and gently wipes the dirt off his face. It is as clean as it is going to get under the circumstances. I use my left hand and carefully rub the ointment all over his face. His eyebrows and eyelashes have been singed, but he doesn't have any major blistering yet.\n\nDerrick and Henderson have all the bags out of the airplane and are starting to look through them for any items we can use. Dane goes over to give them a hand. Dane immediately goes to his suitcase and pulls out a big knife. That might come in handy later. I know I have a couple of packages of trail mix in my suitcase. I always have trail mix. Derrick puts the items into a backpack and walks over to where I am sitting.\n\n\"How are you feeling, Baby?\"\n\n\"I'm okay. What's in the bag?\"\n\n\"Well, I found some trail mix, some disinfectant wipes, a bag of jelly beans, a half bottle of Scotch, a sewing kit, and your hat.\"\n\n\"I'm so glad you found my hat.\" I put it on immediately because the sun is burning my head. \"The Scotch will be useful as a sterilizer, if we need one. Maybe we should all have a change of clothes too.\"\n\n\"Good idea. I'll be right back.\"\n\n\"Baby, we need to find some shelter.\"\n\n\"I know. But we should stay close to the airplane, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's the first place that search and rescue will be looking, but it might take them days to get here. Henderson wasn't able to establish radio contact, so the controller may not know we have crashed. When they don't see our transponder bleep on the radar screen any more, they will figure out that we have crashed. Hopefully, they will pick up the Emergency Locator Transmitter, if it works.\"\n\n\"I wonder if my cell phone works.\" Henderson says. He gets his phone out of his pocket and of course, we have no service. I check my phone and it shows the same thing.\n\n\"What are we going to do?\" I ask.\n\nDane interjects, \"Let's not make any decisions right now. In a survival situation, the first thing you need to do is get to a safe location. Second, tend to the wounded and other priorities. Third, think about shelter. Fourth, drink fluids and stay hydrated. Fifth, eat and rest, especially in the heat of the day. So far, we are doing great.\"\n\nDane tells everyone to drink at least half of their water bottle, and rest for a while. Derrick is looking through all of the suitcases searching for something like a blanket we can use to shelter us from the hot, midday sun. Unfortunately, there is nothing like that in any of the suitcases. The hull of the airplane is unusable as well, because it has been burned. The tail section is not large enough, so we are forced to seek shelter elsewhere. Maybe we can tie up a bunch of shirts and make a cover at least to protect us from the hot sun.\n\nHenderson advises us that we should really stay with the aircraft, because that is the first place the rescue team is going to look--if there is a rescue team. After talking about it for a few minutes, we agree to stay with the wreckage until the morning. If no one has come looking for us by then, we'll start looking for a better place. Dane and Derrick decide to walk around and collect as much firewood as they can find. We want to have a big fire going tonight for two reasons. First of all, it can be seen for miles and miles, and we definitely want to be seen right now. Secondly, a big, roaring fire will deter predators, should any decide to stop by for a midnight snack.\n\nHenderson has volunteered to build a fire pit. He begins by digging a hole approximately six inches deep and two feet in diameter. He lines the hole with rocks and begins to stack the rocks around the hole in a circle. After the fire pit is finished, it has probably a one foot wall of rocks around it. I have taken the clothes from the suitcases and laid them out on the ground, which gives us a little bit of cushion for sitting and sleeping. I wish I could help more, but my wrist is hurting, and I can see my fingertips turning a bluish-black color now.\n\nDerrick and Dane are back, each with a huge armful of wood. They walk over to the fire pit and drop the wood just next to the rocks.\n\n\"Nice pit, Henderson,\" Dane raves, as he starts to stack the wood inside the pit to be burned. \"I need to find some kindling to put under the wood, something small and dry.\"\n\n\"That shouldn't be a problem out here,\" Derrick jokes.\n\n\"Hey, catch that tumble weed right there, Derrick. We can break that into pieces and use it for kindling. Henderson, where did you learn to make such a nice fire pit? This is awesome!\"\n\n\"Thanks. I went to survival school a long time ago when I was a Lieutenant in the Guard, and thought I had forgotten most of what I learned. I'm surprised how quickly it is all starting to flood my memory again. Sometimes out here in the Outback it can get windy, so having a wall of rock around the fire helps to protect the flame.\"\n\n\"It looks like you have this fire building under control, so Derrick and I are going to hunt for food,\" Dane announces.\n\nFood, what food can they find out here in this environment? Maybe a lizard, or a snake. I have a feeling dinner is going to be something unique tonight, to say the least. The pain in my wrist is getting worse, so I grab the first aid kit, hoping that there is a bottle of aspirin that I can use. As luck would have it, there is a bottle of aspirin. The dosage calls for two tablets, but I am going to take four so I can get the pain reliever into my system. I don't know if the aspirin is going to help at all, but it is worth a try. I ask Henderson if he needs any for his head, and he nods no.\n\n\"My head is actually starting to feel a lot better. I have a mild headache, but not bad enough to take those. If anyone needs those, it's you, Kobi. I'm worried about you.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Henderson, but don't worry about me, I'll be fine. That's a nice fire you have going there, but why is it so big? It's hot as hell right now.\"\n\n\"If someone is trying to find us, maybe they will see the smoke, plus we will have good coals for tonight's fire.\"\n\n\"Good thinking. The pain must be affecting my logic.\" Henderson chuckles and keeps working on the fire. We are going to need more wood if we are going to keep the fire burning like that all night, so Henderson starts looking for more.\n\nChapter 26\n\nDerrick and Dane are back now with two long lizards on a stick. I guess\n\nthat's dinner. \"What do you have there, Dane?\" I inquire.\n\nDane states, \"These are Blue-tongued lizards. They are very easy to catch and will provide us with some much needed protein tonight. I hate to catch and kill these friendly creatures, but we are in survival mode and need a food source. I'm going to clean these guys way over there, because I don't want the smell of their insides attracting any unwanted visitors later on tonight. I'll be right back.\"\n\nDane puts the stick of lizards over his shoulder and heads away from the camp. Derrick comments on how easy the lizards were to catch, and how calm they were while he was holding them. \"What an awesome pet these lizards would make if we weren't trying to eat them to survive,\" he comments. He's such a Zoologist!\n\nHenderson comes back with an armful of wood and drops it next to the fire. He takes a swig of water and suddenly remembers that located in the back of the tail section is a small compartment that contains a desert survival kit.\n\n\"The company decided to equip all of the airplanes with a mini-desert survival kit, since we fly back and forth to Perth. I totally forgot it was back there. Hang on, I'll be right back.\"\n\nHenderson gets up and walks to the tail section of the airplane, retrieves an orange duffel bag and brings it back to the fire. He opens the bag and removes its contents:\n\nKnife\n\nCondoms, for water storage\n\nSignal mirror\n\n50 feet of heavy cord\n\nA space blanket\n\nFlint and steel\n\nSunblock 50\n\nTranspiration Bag and some water purification tablets\n\nCompass\n\nImmediately, Derrick realizes that the space blanket can be used to provide much needed shade. All he needs is to find some sticks to use as stakes. He holds up the blanket, and I am surprised to see it is quite large. If it can be staked and used as a canopy of some kind, it will really help with the heat factor. Dane has finished cleaning the lizards and is pleased to see the survival kit Henderson found. Dane and Derrick drink some water and start looking for the sticks they need to secure the blanket.\n\nHenderson gets the sunblock out of the bag and tells me to put some on my arms and face. He needs to put some on, as well. Located in the bottom of the duffel bag is a small booklet with some instructions for desert survival. Here are a few things the booklet recommends: First rule of thumb, find shelter. Okay, we don't have any of that. Cover as much of your exposed skin as you can. Don't travel during the day, because it is difficult to keep yourself hydrated, especially if you don't have a lot of water. If you must leave your vehicle (plane), travel only at night when it is cooler. That makes sense.\n\nWe are in a predicament here because we have no shelter, and we don't want to leave the plane. Do we stay by the plane and hope to be rescued, or do we leave the plane and seek shelter? Henderson really thinks we will be rescued, but admits if no one has found us within the first 24 hours, it could take days, because that would indicate that the emergency locating equipment on board the aircraft is inoperative. We will sit around the fire tonight and discuss our options, whether we should stay or leave the aircraft; the pros and cons.\n\nDerrick and Dane come back with some sticks and start securing the blanket with the cord that was in the kit. Henderson and I grab some of the clothes we have been sitting on and place them under the blanket canopy. The four of us decide to rest for a while, so we all crowd in under the canopy, and what a difference this blanket makes. It is so much cooler under this thing.\n\n\"Everybody take out your water bottle and drink some water. We need to stay hydrated, especially right now, in the beginning,\" Dane insists. \"I've been doing some thinking this afternoon, and I think we should stick around the airplane until tomorrow evening, like Henderson suggested. If no one has come by the time the sun sets, we should leave the crash site and head north. Eventually, we will hit the coast.\"\n\nDerrick, Henderson, and I look at each other and unanimously agree with Dane's suggestion. I just wish we knew where we were. There were some maps in the front of the airplane, but the fire has completely destroyed them, I'm sure. After resting a couple of hours, Dane sits up and suggests that we cook the lizards and eat supper. We all agree, so he skewers the lizards and places them directly over the fire. Derrick takes the pocket knife and cuts up the apple, and peels an orange. I have laid out a clean shirt under the blanket to use as a table for our supper. We have nine bottles of water, five juice boxes, and two sodas left for drinking. We will use the jelly beans, trail mix, and peanuts when we need to travel, if we are forced to abandon the aircraft.\n\nThe lizards are finished cooking and Dane starts removing the meat from the bones. I am really surprised how much meat he is able to get off of one lizard. The meat is in a big pile on the shirt next to the fruit. We decide to have a juice box each with the meal. I reluctantly take a bite of the lizard expecting it to taste awful, but much to my surprise, it is quite tasty. I take my portion of the meat and fruit and sit down by Derrick.\n\nHenderson takes a bite of the lizard and says, \"It tastes like chicken.\" Then he starts laughing.\n\n\"What are you laughing at Henderson?\" I ask.\n\n\"On survival, everything tastes like chicken. It's kind of a joke.\"\n\nThe sun is just starting to dip down below the horizon as night falls upon us. Henderson puts some more wood on the fire, and we decide to come out from under the blanket and sit a little closer to the fire and talk. Dane starts to talk about what he thinks the plan should be for tomorrow.\n\n\"The first thing I am going to do in the morning is find us some water. If we are going to leave here tomorrow night, I would like to leave with all of the water bottles full. If I can find a creek bed, I can probably find water. Even if it appears to be dried up, if you dig deep enough, sometimes you get lucky and find water. Derrick, you coming with me?\"\n\n\"Of course!\"\n\nChapter 27\n\nThe sun has completely disappeared now, and there is just a little light left in the sky. It is a beautiful night. The temperature is starting to cool off, and the night air is clean and crisp. Under different circumstances, this would be considered the perfect night. The four of us, sitting around a fire enjoying the warmth, staring at the flames. That could be on a postcard. The night is quiet, very quiet, so I suggest we have a little story telling.\n\n\"Hey, Henderson, tell us about some of the cool places you went to when you were in the Armed Forces,\" I request.\n\n\"Okay, sure! Let me think.\" He squints his eyes and slowly rolls them from side to side, obviously thinking very hard. \"I don't want to bore you with all of the places I have been, but I do recall a trip I made to Thailand back in 1989. I was a Captain at the time, and a Navigator on a KC-135.\"\n\n\"What's a KC-135?\" Dane asks suddenly.\n\n\"It's a big four engine jet aircraft that is used to refuel other aircraft while airborne. People call it the gas station in the sky. In the back of the airplane is a boom, which is used to transfer the fuel from one aircraft to another. The boom operator gently lowers the boom and inserts the end into a receptacle located on the receiver's aircraft. Once the connection is made and locked, the boom operator says, \"contact\". This is the signal for the pilot to start pumping gas. The KC-145 can hold about 180,000 pounds of gas.\n\n\"During the Gulf War, we used to ferry F-16's across the Atlantic Ocean. Their fuel tanks didn't hold enough gas for them to make it without landing several times. They would fly in formation with us until they needed gas, and then they would fly alongside of the cockpit and give the drink signal to the pilot. The boom operator would run to the back, get in position, and clear the receiver in for contact. The fighter would ease back to the rear of the aircraft, and get into position to receive the fuel transfer. There were usually six fighters flying with us when we crossed the ocean and they would take fuel hourly. The KC-135 can refuel just about any kind of airplane you can think of that is still flying today.\"\n\n\"Oh, that is so cool. I interrupted you, I'm sorry. Please go on with your story,\" Dane says.\n\n\"Oh, that's okay. I love talking about airplanes. So, we were doing a tour in the Pacific and had made our rounds from Hawaii to Guam, to Kadena in Japan, and eventually to Thailand. We were hauling a couple of F-16's across the ocean from Guam to Thailand. The fighters went to Bangkok, and we landed at Pattaya Beach in the southern part of the country. They lodged us at this gorgeous five-star hotel right on the water.\n\n\"After we stowed all of our gear in the rooms, we changed and met in the lobby. We wanted to experience some of the culture before it got dark, because we were told by our intelligence officers to stay off the streets at night. It can be a very dangerous place if you are on the wrong street after dark. So, we headed down to the shops located all along the ocean. We decided to stop and have dinner at this restaurant that specialized in American and Thai cuisine. The four of us decided to order two American dishes and two Thai dishes and share. So, I ordered the Chateaubriand, a fancy word for filet mignon, and one of the other guys ordered seafood soup.\n\n\"I can't remember exactly what else we had, but those two dishes I remember. When the steak arrived, it didn't look like any beef I had ever seen. It was a funny brownish-gray color and had a lot of gristle. I took a bite of it, and it definitely wasn't beef. I really don't know what it was, maybe dog or something. It was gross. The seafood soup had octopus tentacles hanging out the side of the bowl, and being a Detroit native, that didn't appeal to me at all. So, I ate the bread and called it a day. On the way back to the hotel, I was surprised at the number of women soliciting sex on the streets. They were especially interested in me. One woman spotted me and hollered, 'Hey, chocolate man, I bet you taste sweet'. I guess they had never seen a handsome black man like me before, and thought I would taste like chocolate, I don't know. My crew and I laughed about that for hours. Needless to say, I got the nickname Chocolate man for the rest of the trip. I didn't mind it so much, but told them once we got home, it was back to Henderson.\"\n\n\"Henderson, that's a funny story. It's amazing how different the cultures can be from country to country,\" I say. \"If you said something like that on the streets in America, you'd probably get punched in the face. The way she said it sounded like a compliment to me.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's how I took it. Kobi, do you have any stories?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I have a few. I remember when I was about 13 years old, my Mom and Dad decided to go to Egypt that year. My Mom was an amateur Egyptologist and really wanted to visit the country she loved to study, so Dad decided to take four weeks off one summer and go. We landed in Cairo and took a taxi to the Nile Hilton, in the downtown area, right next to the Nile River. It was the most beautiful hotel I had ever seen.\n\n\"We wanted to do a lot of sightseeing, of course, so the Hilton recommended a guide for us to use. His name was Ahmed, and he was from a traditional Muslim family, who lived right behind the pyramids at Giza. We met him that evening in the Hilton's restaurant for dinner and told him the places we wanted to visit. He asked us to meet him the next morning in the lobby, and he would take care of everything.\n\n\"The next morning we were in the lobby sharply at 7:00 a.m. as requested. He showed up a few minutes later, and had arranged a car to shuttle us to the Pyramids at Giza. His younger brother, Frank, was waiting for us at the base of the pyramids with a couple of Arabian horses. He asked my father if it would be okay to take me horseback riding through the desert around the pyramids and the surrounding areas. My Dad didn't object at all. I didn't mind either, because Frank was cute! So there I was riding horses through the desert with a handsome Egyptian, just like in the movies.\n\n\"Later on that evening, his family invited us over to their house for dinner. This was a traditional Muslim family, and the mother was not very fond of Americans, but she welcomed us into her home. She soon realized that we were not like most Americans and grew to love us. They prepared a feast for us compete with pigeons and a variety of vegetable dishes. There was bread, of course, and a few other things that I didn't recognize. There was this bowl of oily liquid with green spinach leaves in the bottom. It was smothered with garlic. I didn't try that dish.\n\n\"The pigeon was good, I have to admit. We learned a valuable secret that night while eating dinner--don't let your plate get empty. I was trying to hide food under the pigeon carcass because I didn't like it. The mother kept putting food on my plate because it was empty. You see, when I was growing up, you always ate what was on your plate, but over there, if your plate gets empty, they think you are still hungry. I learned really quick to leave food on my plate so I wouldn't have to eat anymore.\n\n\"After supper, Frank pulled my Dad aside and asked him if I was able to bear children. He then asks my Dad for my hand in marriage. The Muslim men will marry a girl as soon as she is able to have children. My Dad respectfully said no, and explained that in our country, young girls go to school and get an education before they marry. Frank was disappointed but understood and asked if he could marry me when I was finished with school. I think he liked me. His younger brother was upset with him because he wanted to marry me too, but the older brother had first choice. We all laughed about it.\"\n\n\"Lucky for you, huh Derrick?\" Henderson says laughing. \"I bet you would look cute in the traditional abaya.\"\n\n\"I was lucky enough to go to Cairo once during the Gulf War,\" Henderson says. \"We were only there for a couple of days, but at least I got to see the Pyramids. They are a lot bigger than I imagined.\"\n\n\"I know! You see them in books or on television and you know they're big, but when you actually get there and see them in person, it makes your heart stop a beat. Did you get to see anything else while you were there?\"\n\n\"We managed to swing by the Cairo museum for a few hours but couldn't see it all. We had to go back to our tent for some crew rest before going on alert again.\n\n\"Well, at least you got to see a few things. My parents enjoyed travelling and tried to plan a vacation every year. We saw most of the United States when I was younger, but as I got older we started travelling abroad. I remember another vacation we took when I was 15. We went to Kenya. We flew into Nairobi and rented a car and drove to this town on the coast called Mombasa. We spent the first couple of days getting acclimated and adjusting our internal time to Kenyan time. The hotel was called The Mombasa Hotel, and it was very luxurious. The main lobby had marble floors and gold accessories. I was told that this Hotel was a hot spot for the British who came down here on holiday.\n\n\"Although the rooms didn't have a television or a radio, there was plenty of entertainment at the hotel every night. Each night a different tribe or troupe performed in the lobby for the tourists, dancing their traditional tribal dances. It was cultural overload for the first couple of evenings. There were numerous five-star restaurants around the hotel and the food was excellent. On the fourth day, we decided to go on safari. It wasn't the type of safari where you go and shoot wild animals; it was a pleasure safari just for viewing the wildlife. Most safaris like this one are confined to a reserve where the animals are protected against poachers.\n\n\"When the safari van picked us up at the hotel, the three of us jumped in, followed by a couple from England and a family of three from South Africa. The drive to the reserve took about 45 minutes. We passed through the city of Mombasa and a few little other villages along the way. The van driver told us that the huts along the side of the road were built out of mud, cow dung, and straw. The kids would run out of their huts and chase the vans, hoping the passengers would throw out a little change for them. The driver asked us not to throw money because he didn't want any of the children to get injured by the van.\n\n\"We pulled through the huge gate of the wildlife reserve and almost immediately saw giraffes, zebras, and antelope. The one animal everyone looks for when they are on safari is the lion. We looked and looked and didn't see a single lion. I was a little disappointed, but didn't have time to fret about it too much because the van broke down right there in the middle of the reserve. The driver tried to start the engine over and over, but it would not start. Now what?\n\n\"There was no radio in the van, and the driver had no way to contact the reserve rangers to let them know we were broken down. The only option we had was to wait and hope for another van to come along. So, there we were, out there in the middle of nowhere, like we are now. There was not another van in sight--not for miles, so we just waited. Finally, the driver of the van asked the men to get out and push. He thought if we were closer to a major intersection, someone might find us sooner. The men got out of the van and started pushing while Mom and I were standing up in the back of the van with our heads poking out of the top looking for lions. I didn't want my Dad or the other men to become lunch.\n\n\"The roof of the van was constructed so that it could be electrically lifted to create a space large enough to view the scenery. We weren't interested in the scenery, just lions. After all, the men were out there pushing the van, and we were concerned about a possible lion attack. I guess the men pushed at least for an hour before we came to a major intersection. Exhausted, they climbed back into the van and drank some water. Within a couple of hours, another van came along, got our information, and drove back to the lodge and got us some help. Another van showed up and took us back to the lodge, where we waited until our van was fixed.\n\n\"The lodge was perched high up on a hill overlooking one of the major watering holes on the reserve. There was an underground passageway that went from the lodge all the way to the base of the watering hole. At the end of the passageway, there was an elevated structure that served as an observation deck, where you could watch the animals drink. The animals couldn't see you, but you had a bird's eye view of them. By the time I got to the end of the passageway, there was an entire herd of elephants there drinking water. I had seen elephants in the zoo before, but not this close. I was impressed with their size. They are without a doubt my most favorite animal. There was a cute little elephant there drinking with his mom. He was probably about two months old.\n\n\"A small herd of giraffes came to the hole for a drink too. It's always funny watching giraffes drink because, their necks are so long they can't bend over to get the water, so they have to spread their front two legs apart until they can get their head close enough to the water to drink. How awkward for them to have to drink that way all the time. After the animals left the watering hole, we returned to the lodge for a cool glass of lemonade and came face-to-face with a blue-balled monkey. Yes, their balls were blue, hence the name. They were harmless animals, and very curious about us. They were not afraid to come right up to us and touch our legs. The most amazing thing I had ever seen!\n\n\"The adventure was extraordinary, and I am glad the van broke because I\n\nreally enjoyed sitting at the lodge watching the animals. Just think, I would have missed seeing the blue balled monkey had the van not broken down.\"\n\n\"I could listen to you tell stories all night, Kobi,\" Henderson says. \"I can actually visualize every detail, like I'm watching a movie. How about you, Derrick? Did you travel much when you were a kid?\"\n\n\"No. My Dad was the coach for the Los Angeles Rams, and we didn't really have time to travel. He was so busy during the off season studying college players and figuring out who his next draft pick was going to be, that we didn't have time for much at all. Mom was a stay-at-home Mom and didn't believe in taking a vacation without Dad. But growing up in California wasn't a bad thing. Los Angeles is an exciting town with lots to do, so I was never bored. We had the beaches in the summer and the mountains for skiing in the winter.\n\n\"I remember one weekend, my Mom took us to the Safari Park just north of San Diego and the San Diego Zoo. That's when I decided I wanted to be a zoologist. I fell in love with animals that weekend, and never changed my mind. When my Dad moved to St. Louis with the team in 1995, I was bummed, because I was leaving the ocean to go live in the middle of the country, but I am glad we did. I met this beautiful lady there,\" Derrick says as he strokes my long, brown, hair.\n\nI lean my weight over toward him and kiss his cheek. What a wonderful husband I have. \"Okay you two, cut it out,\" Dane says.\n\n\"But growing up with a Dad who was a coach for a NFL football team had its advantages. I got to go to all of the football games and usually had one of the best seats in the house. My Dad would usually let me bring five or six friends with me to the games, so I was considered one of the coolest kids in school. I got to play football with some of the players when they came to the house for Sunday dinner. Dad liked to have the single players over during the off season. He was not only their coach, but their friend. I can't complain at all.\"\n\n\"So, Kobi, I am really curious about your flying experience. How did you get interested in flying, and why don't you fly for a living?\" Henderson inquires.\n\n\"I feel like I am doing all of the talking. When I was 16 years old, I got a part-time job as a ticket agent for a small, commuter airline at the airport just outside of town. One afternoon after my shift, a friend of the family asked me if I wanted to go for a ride in his airplane. He was a private pilot and owned his own airplane, so I called my Mom and Dad to make sure it was okay with them, and they told me it was fine. So, off we went. He took me out to the training area and showed me power-on, power-off stalls, and some other insignificant maneuvers before we returned to the airport for landing.\n\nI went home and announced that I wanted to take flying lessons. My Dad looked at me and told me if I was serious, I would have to find the instructor and an airplane to use. So the next day before my shift started, I went to the airport and found an instructor and an airplane. I called my parents and told them I was going to have my first flying lesson after my shift, if they wanted to come out and watch. So after work, I met with the instructor and had my first lesson. The instructor said I wasn't serious about flying and that my parents should save their money. Needless to say, we found another instructor--one who believed in me.\n\nI never wanted to fly full time because medical school was always my dream, so I decided to teach flying on the weekends. It's an awesome job.\"\n\n\"Does she ever take you flying, Derrick?\" Dane asks.\n\n\"Sure, we fly quite a bit together. She has even taught me how to land the airplane so that if I ever need to, I can.\n\n\"That's awesome,\" Dane says.\n\n\"So Dane, I'm sure you have a story or two about some of your favorite clients, or maybe not so favorite clients. Come on, you have to have a good story,\" Derrick says.\n\n\"Hmmm, let me think,\" as he pauses and tries to remember. \"There was this couple from the New England part of the United States. I'm not sure exactly where in America that is, but I think it is up around New York. Anyway, their names were Charles and Constance Tolliver. We conversed via e-mail for a few weeks before they got here, but I didn't really know what to expect. I met them at their hotel in Darwin and couldn't believe that this was the couple I would be roughing it with for a week. They were the typical upper class, aristocratic, better than everybody couple, especially the woman, Constance.\"\n\n\"She was probably one of those debutante socialites who belonged to the best sorority in college,\" I inserted.\n\n\"Yeah, she was educated at one of the ivy league universities. I remember that because she kept reminding me that she was an ivy league graduate and knew everything there was to know about Australia. She had studied geography for one semester, so that made her an expert on all the different cultures of the world, especially mine. She started telling me things about my country as soon as I set eyes on her.\"\n\nDerrick interjects, \"She was one of those people, the kind you can't teach a thing to, they know everything there is to know about everything.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's the type. So, first of all, she was in a dress and slip-on shoes. It was a sun dress, but not appropriate attire for the day we had planned. I politely asked her to go change into a pair of blue jeans, and she informed me she did not own a pair of those wretched things. On every piece of luggage I saw the initial CAT. I asked her what it stood for and she informed me that those were her initials as well as her husbands. She said, 'My name is Constance Addison Tolliver, and my husband's name is Charles Andrew Tolliver'.\"\n\n\"Are you serious?\" Henderson says with his face twisted up in disbelief.\n\n\"Oh, I'm serious. Needless to say, she didn't change her clothes, so we went about our day. I really don't want to remember many of the details of the trip because I fear I would bore you all to tears, but the first evening, we had set up camp near Jim Jim Falls, close to where we camped that night. Of course, she didn't do anything at all to help. Charles put on some gloves and collected a little firewood while she sat in the car and waited for dinner. Once the tents were set up and the stew was warmed up enough to eat, Charles went to the car and told her dinner was ready. She came to the fire and sat on a stump only after placing a rag on the log before sitting. I just shook my head in disbelief. I still don't understand why someone like that would want to go camping in Australia.\"\n\n\"She was doing it for bragging rights,\" I insert.\n\n\"Bragging rights?\"\n\n\"Yeah. She probably just wanted to be able to go home and tell all her friends that she survived the Outback of Australia and that it was no big deal. You know the type.\"\n\n\"I suppose. We were all sitting around the fire eating the beef stew--your favorite Kobi--and of course Miss Constance was complaining because she was eating out of a metal plate and it tasted funny. Well, after dinner, she was just about to retire to her tent for the evening when she started jumping up and down, screaming that something was on her leg. She was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. She was pointing to her leg saying that something was crawling on her. Turned out to be a tiny spider. I knew the next six days were going to be a living hell.\n\n\"The rest of the night was uneventful. For the next couple of days, nothing earth shattering happened, but then the moment I will always remember. We were all fast asleep and suddenly I hear a blood curdling scream and come bolting out of my tent only to see her fly out of her tent screaming, 'Snake, snake'. Her hair was down and she had this little nighty-shirt thing on. She was running away from the tent so fast she didn't see the tree limb hanging down right in front of her. She hit the tree limb at full speed and it knocked her flat on her back. She was out cold. I went over to her, tried to slap her back to consciousness, but she was out. Her husband came over, lifted her and put her back in the tent and zipped it up. I thought that was a bit odd because he didn't say a word. After zipping her up, he came and sat down next to me with a bottle of Scotch. 'Finally, some peace and quiet', he said. We laughed and shared the bottle.\"\n\n\"Was she okay?\" I inquired.\n\n\"Yeah, she was fine the next morning. She had a bump on her forehead the size of an egg and the beginning of a black eye. I'm sure she'll have a different version of how she got a black eye. She came out of the tent and told her husband, 'Get me out of this dreadful country', so they left that afternoon. That was one for the books.\"\n\nHenderson says, \"Dude, you need to think of some more stories like that one for tomorrow; I know you've got to have more. That was so funny.\"\n\n\"I'll have to think about it. I have this story unfolding right now that I can tell years from now.\"\n\nWe all just smile at each other and agree that we all have a story to tell once we get out of here. I am starting to get sleepy and suggest that we turn in for the evening. Everyone agrees, so we head back to the area under the space blanket and lie down. It is a very peaceful evening and very quiet. I expected to hear howling and other night sounds, but it is very quiet. I tell everyone good night and fall asleep.\n\nChapter 28\n\nDay 23\n\nI wake up fairly early, because my wrist is hurting so badly, I can't sleep any longer. I notice that the fire has almost completely died out, so I throw a couple of logs on top, and it starts to burn again. In a matter of minutes, everyone is awake, ready to face Day 2 in the Outback. Dane immediately grabs the empty water bottles and the box of condoms, and puts them into the backpack. He hands everyone another water bottle for the day.\n\n\"Drink a couple of swigs, everyone. We need to keep hydrated, but not overly hydrated. Derrick, are you ready to go search for water?\"\n\n\"Yeah, just give me a second; I need to take a whiz.\"\n\n\"Wait for me, Honey. I need to go too. I might need your help getting my pants back on.\" Henderson and Dane started laughing at that comment. I wonder why.\n\nI beg Derrick to please be careful out there this morning, and don't lose track of where they are. He tells me not to worry, that he will be extra careful. We get back to the camp and Dane is ready to go. \"Well then, let's go, shall we!\"\n\nHenderson brings me three aspirins and tells me to take them. They might help my hand feel better, but I doubt it. It is the kind of pain that makes you rock back in forth in agony. Surely someone will come and find us this morning... they have too. It's been 20 hours since we crashed, and I thought someone would have found us by now. Henderson says if we aren't located in the first 24 hours, it means our Emergency Transmitter is not working. I hope that is not the case, but it is looking like it might be what's happened.\n\nThere isn't really much we can do about the situation. All we can do is wait until dark. Henderson is rummaging through his suitcase trying to find a clean shirt. The one he has been wearing has blood from his head injury on the front. He has found a Hawaiian floral print shirt, with super bright colors and is putting it on.\n\n\"I think the rescue plane will be able to find us just because you are wearing that shirt. It is just about the brightest, wildest, shirt I have ever seen, but I like it,\" I joke.\n\n\"That's why I am wearing it. I didn't want to blend in with my environment.\"\n\n\"You have succeeded in--not blending.\"\n\nWe both start laughing so hard, my side starts to hurt. \"Stop, stop, I can't\n\nlaugh anymore.\"\n\nDerrick and Dane return to the crash site looking like a couple of kids who were playing in a mud hole.\n\n\"We found water. It's dirty as hell, but it's wet. Do we have anything else we can store water in?\" Dane asks.\n\nAll of us start thinking, wracking our brains, trying to think of something. \"What else is in the tail section, Henderson?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Let's go see.\"\n\nThey come back holding what appears to be a big bowl, but it is actually the cone off of the tip of the tail.\n\n\"We might be able to put this into the embers of the fire and actually boil some of this dirty water. After it has boiled, we can use some clothes to move the cone to an area away from the fire while it cools. Then, all we have to do is add the water tablets, and we have drinkable water,\" Dane explains.\n\nHenderson places the cone into the embers and uses rocks to brace it so it doesn't fall over. Henderson grabs a shirt and holds it over the cone section. Pouring the liquid over the shirt will help filter out some of the dirt in the water. What a great idea. It is about half full, so Derrick and Dane go back to the spot where they found the water earlier and fill up the containers and condoms again. They return within the hour and pour the contents into the make-shift pot. Now all we have to do is let it boil. Everyone drinks the rest of their water bottle and starts another one. Drink it while you got it.\n\n\"Great plan guys,\" I say with excitement.\n\nDane tells us to go ahead and drink a bottle of water each today, so we will be hydrated for tonight. If no one had found us by this evening, we are going to head north and hope for the best. Dane and Derrick are going hunting again today for more food. They will fill up the empty water bottles again while they are hunting.\n\n\"We shouldn't be too long, Honey, I'll see you in a couple of hours,\" Derrick says as he kisses me on the forehead.\n\nHe and Dane start walking, and Henderson says, \"I think this water is done. Please hand me a couple of shirts and I'll take it off the fire so it can cool.\"\n\nI handed him a thick flannel shirt Derrick was saving for a chilly night. Henderson moves the cone section full of water away from the fire and comes back and sits down by me.\n\n\"I know that leaving the airplane goes against everything we have ever heard or have been taught, but your wrist is getting worse, and we really need to get you some medical attention. I would hate for that wrist to get toxic.\"\n\n\"I know you are right, but I am a little nervous about leaving. What if we leave and end up in a worse situation than we are now? I know we can 'what if' the heck out of this, but we are out here, somewhere, and don't even know where. But thank goodness, we have Dane. He knows this country, and if anyone can get us out of here, it's Dane.\"\n\n\"You're right about that. Here, let me see your hand.\" I show him my fingertips and they are really black now, and it hurts badly. \"Yeah, you need a doctor, Kobi. I'm really worried about your hand. Here, why don't you drink some water? You should probably lie down and rest because we will be walking most of the night and you need your strength.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Henderson.\"\n\nI don't know how long I slept before Derrick and Dane came back to the\n\ncamp. Derrick comes to where I am sleeping and gently shakes my foot. \"Hey Sunshine, look what I found for you.\"\n\nI sit up and looked at Derrick and he is holding a piece of fruit. It is a wild orange, and they found three of them.\n\n\"Here, I want you to have my share,\" Derrick says.\n\nHe sits there and peels it for me to eat. It's not bad. Then he hands me some water and tells me to drink at least three big swigs. I do as instructed. I am feeling a little better now, so I decide to sit up and see what else Derrick and Dane brought back with them.\n\nDane holds up a stick and I see three lizards on them, two like the ones we had last night and something else. \"It's a Goanna,\" Dane says. \"Let's cook these little guys up, and what we don't eat now, we'll take with us.\"\n\nI ask Derrick for the time, and he tells me that it is 3:00 p.m. I couldn't have been asleep that long, but I was. Dane is cleaning the lizards so they can be cooked. Henderson and Derrick are purifying the water and pouring it into the empty water bottles. There is a little water left over, so everyone takes a drink until it is empty. Derrick takes the water bottles that he and Dane filled up while they were out hunting, pours the liquid into the cone section, and puts it back on the fire. We will need to have every water bottle full, and our bodies well-hydrated before we start walking this evening.\n\nThe lizards are cooking and we are packing up only what we need to carry for survival. Most of the clothes and personal items will be left behind because they are not essential. We have no idea how long or how far we will need to walk before we find some kind of civilization. I know everyone is taking a spare pair of socks and an extra shirt to wrap around our neck just in case the air gets chilled\n\nduring the night.\n\nThe lizards are cooked, and Dane starts separating the meat from the bones just like he did last night. There is a huge pile of meat sitting on the shirt in front of us. This is great. We all eat as much as we can, and take the rest with us. Now, we are waiting for the sun to set. I see the sun starting to dig its way into the earth's surface and am truly amazed at how beautiful the sunset really is. It is about one-third of the way down, and the sky has just about every shade of the rainbow. With so much empty land, it made the sunset even more beautiful and easy to see. It is so rich in color that describing it is a very difficult task. Twilight is arriving!\n\nThe sun itself is not the bright yellow it was; it is turning a darker yellow, even a little orange as its sinks below the horizon. The horizon has a glow as if on fire, but eventually, it fades. The sun is cooling. The sky around the cooling sun is turning a rich shade of purple with darker shades of deep, royal blue. The stars are free to come out now.\n\nEverything is packed, and we are ready to go. Dane and Henderson are extinguishing the fire by throwing dirt on the flames. The embers will be hot for a while, but there is no threat of starting a fire out here because it is barren. A dry bush here and a stick there won't be enough to start a wild fire. Luckily, we have a full moon tonight, which will provide us with a little light while we are walking.\n\nLooking into the distance and seeing nothing but darkness causes an emotion I have never experienced--hopelessness. But, I will not share that particular feeling with anyone because we all need to stay positive and upbeat for each other. If one of us gets depressed or starts to whimper negative emotions or thoughts, it will create an unhealthy environment for all of us. \"Keep positive,\" I\n\nsay to myself.\n\nWe are probably about two hours from the crash site now, and I ask if we can stop for a few minutes and rest. Everyone unanimously says, \"Yes.\" I think the men wanted to stop but didn't want to be the first to ask. We find a little area with a few rock outcroppings to sit on. All of us take a long, slow, swig of our water. After 10 minutes, we get up and start walking again. The temperature is perfect, and none of us are sweating at all.\n\nAfter 30 minutes or so, we are halted in our tracks by a familiar sound. Just ahead we hear yelping and barking. Great! A pack of wild dingoes, just what we need. The four of us stop and sit down in the dirt so we can listen more closely. It is really hard to tell if they are fighting or playing with each other. They might even be fighting over a piece of food. Every now and then I see the eye shine of their eyes. I can hear them breathing now and I am really scared. I grab Derrick and hold him tight.\n\nDane whispers, \"Don't anybody move.\"\n\nNo one is moving anyway. I can hear them getting close now. What are we going to do? Suddenly Dane jumps up, shouts as loud as he can, and starts waving his arms, holding his knife in one hand and a stick in the other. It works because the dingoes are running away.\n\n\"That was so scary.\"\n\n\"They shouldn't bother us anymore tonight. I scared them just as much as they scared you. Come on, just a few more hours until the sun comes up. Let's try to get a few more miles in tonight.\"\n\nWe get on our feet and start walking. I hope he is right about the dingoes not bothering us again tonight.\n\nDay 24\n\nWe walk until we see the sun start to poke its head up above the horizon, so we know it's time to stop and set up camp for the day. Just a couple of hundred meters in front of us, we see a tree right next to a rather large rock outcrop.\n\n\"That looks like a good place to stop for the day. The outcrop will provide us with a little shade later on this afternoon. We can secure the blanket to the outcrop and make a small lean-to shelter,\" Dane suggests.\n\nDerrick and Dane have the shelter set up, and Henderson is working on a small fire pit, while I clear the area under the blanket so we can rest later. Dane really wants to go hunting for an hour or so to see if he can luck out and get another lizard or two. Derrick, of course, will go with him. I motion to Henderson to come over.\n\n\"Henderson, I need to check your head and make sure there is no infection on the wound. Can you bring me the first aid kit?\"\n\n\"Sure. Here you go.\" Slowly, I remove the outer gauze bandage. The gouge is healing nicely. There is no infection, and the butterfly stitches are holding well. I rub a little antibiotic ointment on the wound and place a fresh piece of gauze over the top.\n\n\"It looks good, Henderson. There is no infection, and the stiches are holding well.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Kobi. Will you be okay here by yourself for a while? I am going to walk around the perimeter and gather up as much firewood as I can. I'll be back in a few minutes.\"\n\nI'm sitting in the shade, feeling like a heel because I can't help the guys do\n\nanything. I know it is just me thinking that way, but I still feel bad. By noon, Derrick and Dane return, but unfortunately, they are empty-handed. They didn't find any water either, so we are going to ration what we drink today. Since we have nothing to cook, there is no reason to start a fire, so Henderson puts the wood down inside the pit and comes out of the sun to the shade of the blanket. The best thing we can do right now is rest, which is exactly what we do.\n\nI feel something crawling on my arm and that wakes me up. It must have been some kind of bug, I guess. I am surprised to see that it is dark already and we are all still asleep. I sit up and take a small swallow of my water. Derrick must have felt me move because he is awake now and decides to get Dane and Henderson up as well. We pack up the camp and start the night walking again. Tonight is a lot harder than last night because my stomach is empty and screaming for food. I suggest to the group that we eat a bag of peanuts or maybe a few jelly beans to give us all a little bit of energy. Dane takes his share, and passes the bag back for everyone else to take their share.\n\nWe are nibbling as we walk, and I have to say that having just a few jelly beans did the trick. I have a little bit of energy now and am feeling better. Off in the distance I faintly see the outline of some trees in the night sky, with the help of the moonlight. Dane sees it too, because we alter our course just a little bit to the right so we can stop and rest under the trees.\n\nHenderson suggests, \"This might be a good place to stop for the night. Let's set up the transpiration bag over one of the tree branches and hopefully collect some drinking water by morning.\"\n\nThat's a great idea, so we all agree to rest here for the remainder of the night. Dane thinks that if he digs down deep enough, he might even find water. It's still dark, and there isn't much we can do until we have light, so we decide to build a small fire, since we have a few hours until sunrise. All of us are staring into the flames when we hear a noise just to the left of us.\n\n\"What is that,\" I whisper. \"There it is again.\"\n\n\"There's no telling what's out there, Kobi. It could be a dingo, or a kangaroo. Whatever it is, it shouldn't bother us because of the fire,\" Dane says calmly.\n\nThe words weren't out of his mouth for five seconds when I see the visitor. I can barely make out the shape of a kangaroo standing behind the fire about 10 feet back.\n\n\"Look, there he is. See it? It's a kangaroo, and he is looking at us. He's a curious little thing, isn't he,\" I say with excitement. This is the first kangaroo I have seen since we've been here. We are surprised to see that he is so calm. He is standing there just looking at us. I wish we had something for him to eat, but he's probably better at getting food than we are. Then I see a few more kangaroos standing to the left and right of him. It must be a family of kangaroos. They seem to be very curious about us.\n\nOne of the kangaroos has something in its pouch, under its belly. Something is moving around in there. I know it's a Joey, and then I see it; there is a little head sticking out of the top of the pouch. Talk about cute! All of a sudden, for no apparent reason, the kangaroos run away, almost like something frightened them.\n\nChapter 29\n\nDay 25\n\n\"It will be light soon. Once we have enough light, Derrick and I will take\n\na look around and see what we can find,\" Dane says with dread in his voice. We are all getting weak and tired, but we have to push through it if we are going to be found. I see Dane over there digging a deep hole by the tree trying to find water, but he is not having any luck. He goes to another tree and digs, and still, nothing. We are down to six bottles of water. He and Derrick decide to leave the patch of trees in search of food and water. Henderson and I are under the blanket trying to sleep.\n\nFor a second, I thought I was dreaming, because I heard laughter and two\n\nmen bantering with each other. I open my eyes and see Dane and Derrick walking back into camp with some kind of snake. Dane holds up the snake and yells, \"I killed a snake.\" At least we have something to put in our bellies today. It might not be much, but at least it's something.\n\nAfter the snake is cooked and cleaned, there is only a handful of meat, which we divide evenly. Two bites of meat, that's it. Hardly seems worth killing when that's all you get out of it. But, I guess if you were alone, it would be significant. After the teasing mouthful of meat is gone, we wash it down with some water. It is 1:00 p.m. and we decide to sleep for the rest of the afternoon. At sunset, we will head out again.\n\nThe sun unfortunately sets, which means we have to trudge into the wilderness once again. It's kind of ironic that just a few nights ago we were all admiring the beautiful sunset, but now it is just a signal that we must move again. We walk and walk until our feet ache. I can feel the blisters on my heels peeling, and my toes are numb. \"I have to stop, guys. My feet are killing me.\"\n\n\"Okay, we should all take a rest anyway,\" Dane says.\n\nWe find something to sit on and rest for about half an hour. Derrick looks\n\nat his watch and says, \"4:00 a.m. It's almost time to quit, Baby. Come on, you can do it.\"\n\nSo, I pull myself together and stand up. I start walking and the guys follow behind me. I'll be glad when the sun is up because that means I get to stop walking and can sleep for the rest of the day. There it is; the sun. My Dad used to say, \"If you listen hard enough, you can hear the crack of dawn.\" I swore up and down I heard it crack when I was a little girl, but I know he was just teasing me.\n\nDay 26\n\nWe are searching for a place to stop and rest for the day. We have two bottles of water left and no food at all. This place is so dry with absolutely no vegetation. There are a few rocks on the ground and that's it. Dane manages to find a few sticks so we can put the blanket up, but there is nothing else out here. We are exhausted and collapse on the ground under the blanket and sleep.\n\nI hear voices. I am still on the ground barely waking up, and I hear voices. Derrick has Dane and Henderson pulled aside a few yards from me and I can hear him whispering, \"She can't go any farther. Her wrist is really bad. I think the break is a lot more severe than we realize, because she has a fever. She probably has an infection from the severe break.\"\n\nHenderson adds, \"Yeah, she's in a lot of pain, but she never complains. I think you're right Derrick. I think she is getting a bad infection, which means her time is limited.\"\n\n\"I know. I'm starting to worry, a lot.\"\n\n\"What do you think we should do?\" Henderson asks.\n\n\"I don't know. I've thought about going ahead of you guys to try and find help, but I know it would be foolish to venture out on my own, especially out here. These elements are harsh and unforgiving, so we need to stick together--that much I know! Besides, Dane wouldn't let me go anyway. Let's wait and see how she is this evening, and then we will make our decision whether to go on or hope and pray someone finds us out here.\"\n\nDane and Henderson both say, \"Agreed!\" None of them knew that I was listening; they thought I was sleeping. As I lie there thinking about what they said, and I will not be responsible for their death. I am even more determined to\n\npress on tonight-- pain, or no pain.\n\nJust before sunset, I get up and drink what water I have left in my individual bottle, which isn't much. My lips are starting to crack and bleed, because I am so dehydrated and thirsty. I haven't urinated at all since yesterday, and I have a pounding headache. I'm sure the guys are in the same boat as me, but they are not complaining at all. I remember seeing some large band aids in the first aid kit, so I wake up Derrick and ask him to give me a hand.\n\n\"Derrick, please get the antibiotic ointment and some of those large band aids. I need your help wrapping up my feet where the blisters are. I think if we pad it enough, I will be able to walk better.\"\n\nHe gives me the biggest smile I have ever seen and does as requested. I know exactly what he is thinking, \"That's my girl!\" My feet are wrapped, and he puts my shoes on for me; and it does feel much better. He puts his hand on my head and asks, \"How do you feel, Honey?\"\n\n\"I feel better now that my feet are wrapped. Are you guys ready to go?\"\n\nDane and Henderson have everything picked up, so off we go again. I am\n\nnot sure how long I will be able to keep us this act, but I need to find my happy place and stay there for a while. We walk for hours and hours before finally taking a break. The time is 5:00 a.m. Looking around the landscape, there is nothing but a small grove of trees about 200 yards from our current position. That looks like a good place to stop for the day. We manage to get up and start walking toward the trees, but before we can get there, I collapse. Derrick rushes over to me and gives me a little swig of the precious water he has left. Then he picks me up and carries me to the grove. I'm officially done!\n\nChapter 30\n\nDay 27\n\nWe don't even bother to set up the blanket because there is quite a bit of shade under the grove of trees. I lie down and go right to sleep in Derrick's arms. I don't know how long I was asleep when I hear Derrick whisper, \"Wake up Kobi, we have company.\" I open my eyes and see five black men standing at our feet. I know right away, these are the Aboriginal people, and we are going to be okay.\n\nDerrick hugs me and whispers, \"Thanks to you and your determination, we are going to make it. I am so lucky to have you as my wife. I love you!\"\n\nDane immediately gets up and introduces himself. The men shake hands.\n\nDane looks at us and smiles, \"Everything is going to be fine. They have a settlement a few miles from here. They were out hunting this morning and usually come to this grove of trees for a rest. That's how they found us.\" Dane motions for the man he shook hands with to come over. \"This is Mandu, he is the son of the tribal leader and has agreed to take us back to his settlement.\n\nAs soon as Dane speaks the words, a dozen or so men emerge out of the\n\nbush and are eager to help us. They see that I am in no condition to walk, so they make a stretcher out of the blanket and carry me there. It is a lot farther than I thought, so I am very thankful for the stretcher. Finally, we arrive and immediately become the center of attention. Several women come to my side and carry me to a place where I can get water, a bath, and clean clothes. I'm sure the men are doing the same.\n\nAfter cleaning up, they bring us to a canopy covered area with a table and some chairs. Within a few minutes, three women walk in carrying trays of meat and fruit. There is also a bowl of cut-up thin bread. Our glasses are full of water and we are thankful. We slowly rehydrate and replenish our body with the much needed food and water. After the meal, we are taken to a tent where we are allowed to sleep the rest of the day. There are no beds, but there is plenty of bedding on the dirt floor to provide enough of a cushion that I am comfortable, and fall asleep immediately.\n\nAt sunset, someone comes into the tent and wakes us up, requesting our presence at the fire pit located in the center of the village. We make our way through the town and right around the corner, I see a large fire pit with about 50 people gathered around it. The only one of the tribe sitting in a chair is the elder tribal leader.\n\n\"I am Kanuti, leader of the Anangu people. Welcome! You have been on a long, treacherous journey, I think?\"\n\n\"Yes, we have, Chief. Thank you so much for inviting us into your settlement. These are my friends, Kobi and Derrick Reed, and this is Henderson Smith, our pilot. My name is Dane Walker.\"\n\n\"Dane, you are a native of our country. How is it you have found yourself in this situation?\" the Chief asks.\n\n\"We were flying in a plane from Perth and crashed in the Outback. We were lost for several days before your son and the hunting party found us.\"\n\nOh, I see. Mr. Smith, you are the pilot?\"\n\n\"Yes sir, I am.\"\n\n\"Are you a pilot like John Glenn?\"\n\n\"I am a pilot, but not like John Glenn. He is an astronaut and flies a lot higher than I do.\"\n\nThe old man smiles and says, \"Yes, I remember, he flies very high.\"\n\n\"What do you mean you remember?\" Dane asks.\n\n\"I remember the night he flew over in the early 1960's. I was a young man, and remember that everyone across the entire country turned their lights on that evening for the astronaut in trouble. Our ancestors in the stars told us to build many fires for the man in the capsule, high above the Earth. The tribes out here in the bush made large fires for him and sent help up to his spaceship from the fire. He flew over not too long ago, and we lit up the night sky for him again.\"\n\nI am sitting by the fire listening to Kanuti speak and am totally unaware of the pain in my wrist. I am completely engulfed in what he is saying. His manner of speech is addictive, and I feel as if I am in a trance, hanging on every word he's\n\nsaying. My eyes start to burn because I realize that I have forgotten to blink.\n\nKanuti's hair is almost totally gray and not very long. His beard, on the other hand, is very long, bushy, totally gray, and uneven on the ends. Surprisingly, his thin skinny, brows aren't the bushy mess I would have expected. He has quite a broad nose, and glassy, dark brown eyes. There is a gentleness and sweetness in his eyes that invites you in to have a deeper look.\n\nKanuti starts telling us about Dreamtime. The Aborigines' religion is based on Dreaming. They believe that the landscape was created at the beginning of time by their ancestors, who rose from beneath the earth and traveled throughout the land, giving it its physical form. Certain rock formations are believed to be metamorphosed ancestors. They are perfectly in tune with nature and respect it greatly. He continues to talk about the ancestors, and how every formation on the earth has a story to explain it. I can hear the distant drone of the didgeridoo coming from the hilltop behind the camp.\n\nAfter listening to him talk about his beliefs and customs for an hour, he looks at me and asks, \"What is the matter with your arm?\"\n\n\"I think I broke my wrist when our airplane crashed.\" I took my arm out of the sling and showed Kanuti my fingertips. They are almost completely black now from the bruising.\n\n\"Kobi, do you mind if I take off the bandages? I would like to see your wrist.\" I shake my head no, and he slowly starts removing the bandages from my arm and wrist. All of the bandages are off and I am shocked at the sight of my wrist. It looks bad. The wrist itself is red and very swollen. Radiating out from the wrist are different shades of purple and black until finally, the fingertips are a sold black.\n\nKanuti starts humming and rubbing his hands over my wrist, rocking back and forth, and then suddenly, he firmly places my wrist between his hands and squeezes. At first, the pain is intense, and oddly enough I am not nervous at all. I can feel the heat in my wrist now; it's getting hotter and hotter. Then, he slaps his hands together with my wrist in between his hands and the intense pain is gone. He gives Derrick some salve to rub over the swollen area and tells him to wrap it up again with fresh bandages. He tells me that the infection will get better and the bone is back where it belongs.\n\nThat is simply amazing what Kanuti just did to my wrist! I don't have much pain at all anymore. I think he reset the bone, because the bump that I had on the side of the wrist is gone now. After Derrick wraps it, I put my arm back in the sling and it feels 10 times better. Meanwhile, one of the elderly women has been staring at Dane's face, touching and feeling the burns he acquired after the crash. She leaves for just a few minutes and comes back with a bowl of something that stinks to high heaven. I hope he doesn't have to eat that!\n\nShe asks Dane if she can rub this lotion all over his face. She says it will help the burns cool down and heal quicker. She applies the lotion to his entire face, and I see his upper lip start to curl and crinkle because the odor of the lotion is unbelievable.\n\nI look at Dane and sarcastically ask, \"Why the face, Dane?\" I am trying not to laugh because I know why he is making that face; it stinks!\n\nDane politely asks the woman, \"Ma'am, what is this substance, if you don't mind me asking?\"\n\nShe simply replies, \"Bat poop.\" We start laughing.\n\n\"Oh, bat poop. I should have known that because bat poop has something\n\nin it that is useful for any skin irritation, like a rash, insects bites, or even burns. It is a natural antibiotic and better than anything you can get at the local drugstore. I can't imagine it would be a top seller because it stinks like hell. Plus, it is very hard to find bat poop.\" Dane explains.\n\nThe woman has finished applying the lotion and leaves the fire pit area. I have to admit, Dane looks funny with bat poop all over his face. I hope it works because it smells awful. Kanuti looks at Dane and starts laughing too. Pretty soon, everyone around the fire pit is laughing, at Dane's expense. Dane is a good sport! It is very late now and I am tired, so Derrick and I excuse ourselves from the festivities and return to our tent for the evening.\n\nDay 28\n\nThe next morning we are awakened by the laughter and playing of children outside. I get dressed and step outside of our tent and see a young girl sitting on the ground playing in the dirt. She is probably about 10 years old, with blondish-brown hair half way down her back. I walk over to her and say hello. She looks up at me and gives me a huge smile. I think I am the first white woman she has ever seen. I sit down beside her and ask her name.\n\n\"My name is Akala. What is your name?\"\n\n\"My name is Kobi. It's very nice to meet you. What does your name mean?\"\n\n\"Akala means parrot. What does your name mean?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\"Kobi, my family wants you to come eat breakfast with us today. You can bring your man if you want to.\"\n\n\"Okay, I'll be right back.\"\n\nI go inside the tent for just a minute and come right back out. \"My husband says thank you, but he is still very tired and wants to sleep.\" Akala grabs my hand and we walk to her family's house. It looks like a little wooden shack with a corrugated tin roof. I walk inside and see her family in the kitchen preparing a meal. They see me and run over to welcome me into their home.\n\n\"Please be seated. Akala has invited you to breakfast, as we requested. Thank you for coming.\"\n\n\"Thank you for the invitation. My husband is still very tired, and asked to be excused this morning, but he appreciates the offer.\"\n\nThey pull a chair out for me and invite me to sit at the table. The mother\n\nhas prepared a bread she calls damper. It is simply flour, water, and a pinch of salt. On a platter in the center of the table is a plate of scrambled eggs, and some kind of meat. I politely ask the mother, \"What kind of meat is this?\" She says, \"Kangaroo.\" Funny, I had just seen a kangaroo the other night, and now I am about to eat one.\n\nI thank the family for breakfast and hug Akala good bye. \"I'll see you in a little while.\" I am walking through the village, soaking up every little detail because I realize this is a once in a lifetime experience that people don't get to experience often. As I turn the corner, I see Derrick in front of the tent washing his face and arms. He sees me coming and gives me a big grin.\n\n\"How was breakfast?\"\n\n\"It was delicious. I ate kangaroo.\"\n\n\"Really? Was it good?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it was fine. I like bacon better.\" We both start to laugh. \"We need to find Dane and talk to the Chief about taking us to town. Have you seen him?\"\n\n\"No, I haven't. He wasn't in his tent just a few minutes ago. Henderson is awake and bathing. He should be out in a few minutes.\"\n\n\"Okay, I wonder where Dane is.\" Derrick and I wait for Henderson to finish, and then we decide to go for a walkabout. We are walking through the village and stumble upon the Chief talking to the town carpenter. \"Good Morning, Chief Kanuti.\"\n\n\"Good Morning. I trust you slept well.\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you. Have you by any chance seen our friend, Dane, this morning?\"\n\n\"Yes, he got up early and went hunting with my son today. They will be back later on this afternoon. How is your hand this morning?\"\n\n\"My hand is much better, thank you. We appreciate your help and hospitality.\"\n\n\"You are very welcome. Tomorrow, after you have rested today, we will take you to the nearest town so you can call your friends in Darwin. The walk to town is about six miles, so we want to make sure you are hydrated and feeling better before going.\"\n\nDerrick replies, \"Very good, Chief. That sounds perfect. We will see you later.\"\n\nThe three of us walk back toward our tents, and sitting in front of my tent is the little girl, Akala. She wants me to go for a walk with her to the nearest watering hole because she needs to wash some clothes. Derrick has no objections, so Akala and I start walking.\n\nChapter 31\n\nWhen we get to the watering hole, located only a few hundred yards from the village, I am shocked to see how murky and dirty the water is. I guess when you live out here, you get used to it.\n\nShe steps into the water, which only comes up to her knees and starts to wash her clothes. She has a big bucket, and a flat washboard that she uses to scrub the dirt out of the clothes. I am in the water right next to her up to my ankles. It is a perfect, beautiful, day with temperature in the high 80's. Akala has a huge pile of clothes that are ready to be rinsed, so she returns to the water to exchange the soapy water for clean water.\n\nBefore I even knew what was happening, a giant crocodile charges out of\n\nthe water and grabs Akala's arm, and starts pulling her into the water. I run over to her, grab the other arm, and start pulling her. The crocodile is so strong and I'm afraid I am going to rip her apart. Akala is looking at me and begging me to get her out of the croc's mouth. I can see the crocodile has most of her arm in his mouth, and he is not letting go. I know he wants to pull her into the water, so he can drag her under and perform the death roll. He would probably let her sit underwater for a few days before he eats her. All of these horrible thoughts are rushing through my head, and I just keep pulling. She is crying loudly now and I start screaming, hoping someone in the village will hear me. I refuse to let go of her other arm.\n\nI look back toward the village and see several men running in my direction. I am hanging on to her arm for dear life. Then I hear a snap, and she falls on top of me. The crocodile has let go of her, and I feel relieved and excited. My excitement turns to horror in a split second, because I see that her right arm has been ripped from its socket. She is lying on top of me, very silent, and bleeding badly. I am on my back, with her in my arms, frantically trying to push away from the water with my feet. It is really hard to maneuver with her in my good arm and no other way of getting leverage. I am terrified that the croc will come back for her, so I push with all my might. I can hear the men approaching from behind me, so I collapse, totally exhausted.\n\nThe men pick her up and rush her back to the village for immediate medical attention. One of the young men helps me to my feet and we walk back to camp. I am in total shock. There is blood all over me and I can't say a word. Derrick sees me and comes running over to me, terrified that I have been injured. I tell him that it's not me; it's Akala.\n\nI am waiting outside her house, hoping to get an update on her condition. The mother eventually comes out crying and sees me. She walks over to me and gently touches my arm. I ask, \"Is Akala going to be okay?\"\n\n\"Chief Kanuti says it doesn't look good. She has lost a lot of blood and we don't know if we can stop her bleeding. One of our fastest runners has already left for town to get the doctor. He will bring his car back with some blood and medicine. All we can do is wait right now. She wants to see you, Kobi.\" That seems unusual to me that she would want to see me right now, and that her mother would even allow it, but this little girl just took to me, as did I to her.\n\nI go inside the house, see Akala on the kitchen table, and immediately have flashbacks of Taku. I walk over to her and hold her hand. There are tears falling down her face, but no cries of pain, which surprises me.\n\n\"Kobi, are you okay?\"\n\n\"Yes, Akala, I am fine. The doctor will be here soon. You hang on and be strong.\"\n\nShe nods her head yes, and closes her eyes. I feel the grip in her hand loosen, and she is gone. My eyes well-up with tears, and I can't believe it; just like that, she's gone.\n\nWhat the hell just happened? One minute, we are two girls having fun in the water, and the next minute--this. The mother walks in, sees me crying, and she knows, her little girl is gone.\n\n\"I am so sorry about Akala.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Kobi, but it is our custom that when a loved one dies, their name is to never be spoken again.\"\n\n\"Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't know.\"\n\nI politely leave the house so the family can mourn.\n\nThe doctor from town arrives at the village about 45 minutes later, and is told by one of the family members that she has died. The doctor knew the family very well, and will stay overnight to grieve with the family and the village. In the Aboriginal culture, when a family member dies, the entire village mourns and grieves with the family. Everyone paints themselves white, and the women will cut themselves and bleed out of respect and sorrow for the family. This is a way of saying \"sorry\" to the family of the loved one.\n\nSometimes the family members will throw themselves upon the deceased body, hoping to rejuvenate the soul. Mourning is very dramatic and extremely vocal. The women will wail and chant over the body. The ceremonies have to be done correctly, or the spirit will not be able to return to its sacred place. The ceremony is organized in such a way as to allow the body and spirit to separate. The name of the dead person is never spoken again because it will act as an attachment for the spirit to hold on to and may prevent them from making the great journey. If there is another person in the village with the same name, they will have to change it to something else.\n\nThis particular tribe doesn't place the body in a tree, or cremate the body. They bury the dead in a four foot deep grave, in the sitting position, facing the place where they were born. This is their custom because they believe that the spirit will leave in the direction it is facing and become part of the land. The site of the attack will not be visited again for a very long time, and going near the place is very disrespectful. Since the little girl died in her house, the family will vacate the house and no one will ever live there again.\n\nDerrick, Henderson, and I are going to stay in our tent for the remainder of\n\nthe day because we think the family and village may not want outsiders witnessing their traditional ceremonial procedures and rites. I ask the doctor if he would mind bringing us with him when he returns to the town in the morning, and he politely says, \"Sure. I will bring you back with me.\" Dane is still out with the hunters and has no idea what has happened. The girl told me earlier that the hunters usually return in the mid afternoon.\n\nSitting in our tent, we can hear the wailing and crying outside. It is so painful to watch and hear the village grieve that hard. The wailing escalates outside, so I take a peek out the tent and see the hunters returning and being greeted by the village with the sorrowful news. Dane drops his head and slowly walks over to the tent. He walks in and has tears streaming down his face. He sees me and walks over to hug me. This is the first time I have seen Dane emotional. He is usually very strong and fierce. I know Derrick isn't concerned about my comforting Dane, so I embrace Dane harder and we cry together. I open my eyes and look at Derrick and Henderson, and they are both crying too. It is a very emotional moment for us all. After a few minutes, Dane breaks contact and sits down at the small table in the tent and asks me to explain what happened.\n\n\"You did everything you could have done, Kobi. At least they have a body to mourn over and bury--thanks to you. That may not sound comforting to you, but for them, it is important. You fought hard, and with only one good arm. You are lucky the croc didn't take both you and the girl under. I am surprised you were able to hang on to her. How big do you reckon the croc was, if you had to guess?\"\n\n\"I would have to guess around 10 feet. It's hard to say because it happened so fast. One minute we were in the water, she was tending to her clothes, and the next, she was in the mouth of the crocodile. It blew my mind! The only reaction I had was to grab the other arm and start pulling her. I felt my feet sliding on the dirt toward the water because he was pulling so hard. Luckily, my left foot wedged on a rock and kept me from sliding into the water.\"\n\n\"What a horrifying experience for you Kobi,\" Dane says.\n\n\"They sent a runner to town to fetch the doctor, but by the time he got here, she was gone. I did speak with the doctor about our returning with him to town tomorrow and he agreed to take us. He has a car, so we won't disturb any of the villagers during their time of mourning.\"\n\n\"That's nice of him. Have any of you spoken to the Chief since the girl's death?\"\n\nDerrick replies, \"No, we didn't want to interfere with any of the ceremonies. Since we are outsiders, we thought it best to remain in the tent, out of sight, while they grieve. They may not appreciate our presence during the ceremonies\"\n\n\"Yep, that was probably the best thing for you to do. Later on this evening, I will go talk to the Chief and thank him for taking care of us and fixing our injuries. I will bid him farewell for all of us.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that would be great. I would really like to thank him myself, but totally understand,\" I agree.\n\nWe have a tray of fresh fruit in the tent and decide to eat a little dinner. We will turn in early tonight after Dane talks to Chief Kanuti. Henderson is looking forward to seeing his little girl, hopefully tomorrow. He managed to pull one of her gifts out of his suitcase before we left the crash site; a koala bear picture frame. He is holding the picture frame and starts to cry.\n\nI ask him what is wrong and he says, \"I am just imagining how I would feel if it were my own little girl. I don't know how parents cope with such a loss. I can't imagine that the pain ever goes away.\"\n\nHe stares at the picture frame for a long time, then replaces it inside his shirt. He will be okay now. Derrick and I don't have kids, so that emotion is something I can't empathize with him; I can only sympathize.\n\nWe have finished eating, and it is getting dark. The death rituals and ceremony will most likely continue into the night, so Dane decides to walk over to the Chief and have a conversation. We can't hear the conversation from inside the tent, but we see Dane shake the hand of Chief Kanuti and sit beside him at the fire. They talk for a long time and then Dane gets up suddenly. He runs over to the tent and invites all of us to join the village at the fire. Surprised and flattered, we immediately exit the tent and walk to the fire. The Chief motions for me to come sit by him, so I do. Derrick and Henderson are seated on the other side with Dane. The Chief stands up and signals for the ceremony to silence. He begins to speak.\n\n\"Kobi pulled the girl from the croc's mouth in the water and brought her back to the village for us. For this we are grateful and would like to publically thank you. You showed great courage and love for my people. I hope your journey back to Darwin and your country is a safe journey.\"\n\nHe sits down, and the rituals commence. The doctor politely acknowledges us and informs us that he will be leaving at 10:00 a.m. for town. We say our goodbyes and return to the tent for the night.\n\nChapter 32\n\nDay 29\n\nWe are up very early and waiting outside our tent by 9:30 a.m. for the doctor to drive us to town. The villagers stopped with their rituals around midnight and will resume this morning. The doctor drives up to the tent about 10 minutes later and is pleased to see we are ready to go. We are getting in his car when I notice the Chief standing under the tree in the center of the village. He is holding one hand in the air saying goodbye. I raise my hand and wave back. I get in the car, and we drive away.\n\nThe town is about six miles away, but it will take probably 20 minutes to get there because the terrain is bumpy. It is a small town with a pub, a small grocery store, and a hotel. The rest of the town appears to be housing for the townspeople. The doctor invites us to his office so we can use the phone.\n\nI am dialing Geoff's number so fast, I have to hang up and try again because I missed a number. The phone rings a few times and then I hear, \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Geoff, it's Kobi.\"\n\n\"What? Are you serious? Kobi, where are you? What happened?\"\n\n\"I'm fine. Derrick, Dane, and our pilot, Henderson are all fine. We will tell you all about it when we get there. We are in this small village northeast of Lake Gregory. Do you know it?\"\n\n\"Yes, I know right where you are. I'll send a helicopter to pick you guys up. There is a helicopter charter company in Fitzroy Crossing, WA. I have used them before once or twice. Give me a number for you and I'll call you back after I get a good estimated time of arrival for the copter.\"\n\nI give Geoff the number of the doctor's office and hang up. Since we have to wait anyway, I ask the doctor to have a look at my wrist and Henderson's head. He looks at my wrist and decides to do an x-ray. The x-ray shows that the wrist is indeed broken, but has been set perfectly and should heal just fine. He does want to put my wrist in a cast while it is healing. I told him what Chief Kanuti did to my wrist the other night and he didn't seem surprised at all.\n\nHe removes the bandages from Henderson's head and is pleased to see the cut has already started healing together. He removes the dirty butterfly stitches, cleans up the cut, and places fresh butterfly stitches over the cut. It is healing nicely. Danes face is fine. All of the blistering is gone and just a faint redness remains. We offer to pay the doctor for his services, but he insists not. I guess\n\nthat is his way of thanking me for saving the young girl from the crocodile.\n\nThe phone rings, and the doctor motions for me to go ahead and pick up the receiver. It is Geoff. He has chartered a helicopter to take us to Halls Creek airport. A CDC jet will pick us up there and fly us to Darwin because it is about 750 kilometers away. The chopper will be here in about two hours. That is great. I can't wait to get back to the lab and catch up with everyone. We decide to go to the cafe for a cup of tea and a pastry. There is a sign hanging on the outside of the cafe advertising breakfast, so why not have some while we are waiting. They also have finger food type bar snacks, but it's too early for that.\n\nI am on my second cup of tea and have finished my muffin, when I hear the helicopter fly overhead. I ask the waitress where we should go to meet the copter, and she directs us to a landing pad behind the hotel. We pay the tab and start walking. I can hear the engines winding down, so I know he has landed. We walk behind the hotel and see the pilot exiting the helicopter. He walks over to us and asks if we are the customers waiting to be taken to Hall's Creek. We nod and climb aboard the helicopter.\n\nWe land at Halls Creek Airport and see the CDC jet waiting for us on the tarmac already. We thank the helicopter pilot, climb aboard the plane, and take off. This time I am riding in the back, and so is Henderson. Surprisingly, we are not nervous at all about flying again after having just crashed a plane similar to this one. It was a freak accident, and we know it.\n\nThe flight to Darwin is a quick one and before I know it, we are descending for landing into Darwin International. I am looking out the window, just like I did almost a month ago, with an entirely different perspective on life. I can't believe what has happened since we last saw Darwin from the air. I see Derrick looking out of the window and I know he is thinking the same thing. Squeak! We are on the ground and taxiing off the runway headed for the terminal. I know Geoff will be waiting for us and I can't wait to see him.\n\nAs we pull up to the terminal, there's Geoff standing outside on the red carpet with his hands in his pocket. We depart the airplane and Geoff walks up to us and firmly shakes Derrick's hand, then Dane's, then Henderson's. I am the lucky one, I got a hug. We are walking back toward the terminal when the entrance door opens and outs walks Cole. As he gets close, I see he has Buddy on his shoulder. I can't believe he is out of the lab. I run up to him and give him a long hug, and of course I start crying.\n\n\"I can't believe it! Look at you! You look great! Who is that on your shoulder?\"\n\n\"Thanks, it's good to see you guys too. Buddy missed you too. You had us all worried to death. What happened to your wrist?\"\n\n\"Nothing really, it's just broken. It will be fine. Are you cured?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am. The parasite is completely dead, and I suppose my body will eventually dispose of the unwanted dead matter--hopefully. We do a complete blood and parasite count daily, and the parasite numbers are decreasing, so I know the body is getting rid of it. We will fill you in on all the details tomorrow.\"\n\nGeoff walks us through the terminal to the van he has waiting in the parking lot. \"Welcome back, guys. I know you want to get the details tonight about what we have been doing since you left, but I must insist that you go to the hotel and rest. It is late anyway and I need to get Cole back to the lab. He will be staying with us until the parasite is completely out of his system. Stolz, Sevi, and Evan have been given the antidote too, but we aren't sure if they are going to make it or not. I'll catch you up in the morning. Rest and sleep late in the morning. Henderson, do you have a place in town where I can drop you off?\"\n\n\"Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but I have a car here, so I will drive home tonight.\"\n\nI look at Henderson and say, \"Thank you for everything. I am going to miss you. You know, if you want to meet us for breakfast in the morning...\"\n\nBefore I can finish, he interrupts me and says, \"Not tomorrow morning, Kobi. I want to see my little girl and take her to school. May I call you after I drop her off?\" he says.\n\n\"Of course! Why don't you come to the lab and I'll show you what's going on and you can meet Trevor and Nicola. I don't have a phone, but here is Derrick's number. I'll see you tomorrow.\" We hug each other tight, and I feel like I have made a new friend for life!\n\nGeoff drops us off at the hotel and says, \"I'll see you tomorrow.\"\n\nDerrick and I plop down on the bed completely exhausted--too tired to even take a bath. We did manage to get up and change into something suitable for sleeping. Luckily, we had most of our clothes still here in the room. We didn't need to take everything with us when we went to Perth earlier. We went straight to sleep.\n\nChapter 33\n\nDay 30\n\nI have no idea what time it is, but my eyes finally open and see the daylight entering the room, determined to wake us up. I glance at the alarm clock by the bed and it reads 8:30 a.m. Wow, I'm tired. I really don't want to get out of bed, but I am really curious about what is happening at the lab and want to get going. If I could change one thing about myself, that would be it. I don't know how to relax. I do need to take a bath first. The doctor gave me this plastic bag thing to put over the cast so I can shower easier. I wish he would have given me another hand to wash my hair with. It is really hard to do with one hand, especially with hair as long as mine.\n\nI manage somehow to get my hair clean and put up in a towel. I don't wear much makeup, so doing that one-handed is easy. Now blow-drying and brushing my hair will be a challenge. At least I can hold the hair in place with my bum hand while I secure the barrette in place. I hear Derrick moving around in the other room and tell him I am almost done and then he can have the bathroom.\n\nI come out of the bathroom and see that Derrick has fallen asleep again. I gently shake his shoulder and request that he get ready so we can go to the lab. I am curious about what is going on with the antidote. Derrick obliges me and gets out of bed and heads straight for the shower. Within 15 minutes, he emerges from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Damn, that's a good looking man! He heads straight for the closet and pulls his favorite jeans off the hanger, and a flannel shirt. He has this perfectly married pair of ostrich skin boots that look great with the jeans. He slips those on over his socks and stands up. He walks back in the bathroom and combs his hair out. He looks fantastic.\n\nOn the way to the lab, Derrick's phone rings, and it is Henderson.\n\n\"Henderson, good morning. Are you on your way to the lab? Oh, I see. Hang on, I'll let you talk to Kobi.\"\n\n\"Good Morning Henderson. What's going on?\"\n\n\"Good morning, Kobi. The company wants me to come into the office today and meet with the accident investigation team this morning. There is a lot of paperwork that needs to be filled out with the insurance company too. They might even want a statement from you. May I give them your number, just in case they want to talk to you?\"\n\n\"Sure, anything I can do to help. You aren't worried about your job or anything like that are you?\n\n\"No. Standard procedure after an aircraft accident.\"\n\n\"Okay, call me when you're finished, and we will give you a tour of the lab.\"\n\n\"That sounds like a plan.\"\n\nWe are at the lab and very excited to hear about everything. As soon as we walk in the command post, Geoff jumps up and runs over to us. He shakes our hand and is so glad to see us. Dane is already here and enjoying a cup of coffee. We all sit down at the table and begin talking. Geoff wants to hear all about the plane crash and what happened afterwards, so we give him the play by play. He seems amazed that we survived.\n\nGeoff goes on to say, \"I was in contact with the rescue team, and they didn't know your exact location. The Air Traffic Controlling Center gave your approximate last location, but it was a large search area. I guess the Emergency Transmitter on the plane wasn't functioning, so your position wasn't being transmitted. They found the wreckage two days ago. So, I knew you guys weren't killed in the crash, but no one knew where you were.\"\n\nDerrick explains, \"We decided after 24 hours that the transmitter was probably broken, because they would have been there already. So we made the decision to leave the crash site and seek shelter.\"\n\n\"That's what the rescue team figured. They knew you were alive because\n\nthere were no human remains in the ashes and there was a really nice fire pit constructed by the crash site. They figured that Dane would know to head toward the Northeast, so they started searching in that direction. They found another fire with some wrappers of some sort. They knew they were headed in the right direction at that point, but you were probably at the Aboriginal village by then.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we surely were. What an experience that was,\" I explain. I went ahead and told him about the little girl and how she died. He thought that was just awful.\n\n\"I'm so glad you're okay. Now, let me fill you in on what happened here while you guys were out there roughing it. I think the last time we talked, I had told you about the Pravastatin and the effect it had on the parasite. We combined the Pravastatin with the Losartan and it worked. It completely killed the parasite. Stolz volunteered to be our guinea pig and took the first shot. Within 24 hours, all of the parasites in his blood were dead. We took several blood samples, and the results were the same. Cole begged us to give it to him next, so we did, and he is parasite free as well.\"\n\nNicola and Trevor walk into the Command Post and are so glad to see us. \"We thought you guys were gone for sure.\" I notice that Trevor has his hand on Nicola's waist and he looks like a totally different person. He is actually combing his hair now instead of letting it dry all messed up. I think they have fallen in love. I expected that because they have so much in common and understand how the other thinks. They are perfect for each other. They are telling us how they isolated the medicines and finally put the correct combination together to form the antidote. They found it a lot quicker than I thought they would, but with two great minds working around the clock, it was inevitable.\n\n\"I would like to go visit Stolz, Sevi, and Evan if it's okay with you Geoff,\" I say.\n\n\"Sure. Come on, I'll take you,\" Geoff offers with a smile. We get up from the table, and everyone decides to get up and come with us. We are walking down the long corridor to where the rooms are now. There is no need for them to be in quarantine since the parasite is dead. Stolz's room is the first one on the left, so we stop there first.\n\n\"Hey Stolz. I hear you have mass quantities of dead bugs in you!\" I announce as I enter his room.\n\n\"Hey there, little lady. Glad to see you're alive and kicking. We were worried about you guys. Looks like you have a broken wing there.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I do. I had an Aboriginal Chief fix it right up for me. How are you feeling?\"\n\n\"Well, I feel good in my head, but my internal organs don't want to cooperate. From the looks of the ultrasound, they are shot. Nicola says my heart has taken the hardest hit, and I need a new one. Too bad you can't go to the local hardware store and buy a new ticker, huh? Also, the parasites ate up most of my red blood cells, so my organs are all messed up and dying. Even if they were to pump some good blood in me, it isn't going to regrow the organs. But, surprisingly, I'm not in a lot of pain. I am on dialysis, and I have to carry around these bags to get rid of my waste, but my mind is still functioning. I guess there is a chance I will live, so I remain positive.\"\n\n\"What is the extent of the heart damage?\" I ask Nicola.\n\n\"We had a cardiologist come in a few days ago and do an echocardiogram and he found severe stenosis of the aortic valve and severe pulmonary hypertension. All completely understandable with the parasites killing the red blood cells. The stenosis is probably because the dead parasites are attached to the walls of most of his arteries. We haven't figured out how to clear the blood of the dead parasites. Maybe over time, they will exit the body through the waste. We are testing for that with Cole.\"\n\n\"So maybe if Stolz can get a new heart, he will survive, if the organs do not get any worse?\"\n\nNicola's responds, \"Maybe??\"\n\nNo wonder Stolz is remaining positive. He has a chance which is more than Evan or Sevi have. Trevor says that they are much worse than Stolz.\n\n\"You keep fighting, Stolz. I am going to visit Evan and Sevi.\"\n\n\"Okay, Kobi. Glad to have you back and thanks for the visit.\"\n\nWhat an awesome person. He has death staring him in the face and he remains so positive. Probably his strong will to live is what's keeping him alive. He is such a fighter. Evan and Sevi are not as fortunate as Stolz. There are heavily sedated because the pain is so intense. We are walking to the rear of the building where they have set up a make-shift intensive care unit (ICU). Evan and Sevi are side by side inside of a large, plastic oxygen tent. Their skin is a lot darker, like Marci's was, and they have lost a lot of weight. I walk over to the tent, stand next to Evan, and immediately notice his breathing is shallow and labored. It is just a matter of time for the two of them. I am overcome with sadness as I leave the ICU because I know they aren't going to live much longer. What a shame.\n\nWe are headed back to the command post, and as I round the corner, there is Cole coming up the hallway. \"Hey, Kobi.\"\n\n\"Hey, Cole, how ya doing today?\" I give him a soft slug on the arm.\n\n\"Ouch!! I'm just teasing. I'm feeling great today. Have you seen Evan and Sevi yet?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's where we were. Pretty bad situation.\"\n\n\"I know. I feel so sorry for those guys. Stolz is a character, isn't he? I\n\nthink he is going to make it because he is so determined.\"\n\n\"I hope so! How's Buddy?\"\n\n\"Come see for yourself. I didn't want to bring him in the ICU, so I put him in his cage, which doesn't happen that often.\"\n\nI tell everyone walking with us that I'll see them in a bit. I am going to visit Buddy. Geoff looks at me and shakes his head and reminds me that it is a rat. I know it's a rat, that's what I love about it. We walk into Cole's room and he gets Buddy out of his cage. What a sweety. \"Has your little girl met Buddy yet?\"\n\n\"Yes. They were here a few days ago for the first time. They fell in love with Buddy just like I did. My daughter said that it was better than a hamster or a guinea pig because he doesn't stink at all. They are coming back this afternoon. Are you, Derrick, and Dane planning on being here this afternoon?\"\n\nOh yeah, we will be here all day. Can I hold Buddy for a minute?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Cole hands Buddy to me and I put him on my shoulder. He starts sniffing my ear and licking the side of my face. He crawls off my shoulder and gets on my arm where he starts to nibble-groom. My little guy does that to me at home. I start rubbing his head and the side of his face where his jaw bone is and he just loves it. He tilts that little head to the side as if to say, Rub me more. Then he starts to grind his teeth indicating that he is really happy. Rats do this crazy thing called boggling where their eyeballs begin to pulse in and out of the socket. Just another sign of happiness.\n\nI can't get over how quickly Buddy and Cole have bonded. It's just amazing to see this sweet, innocent creature so dependent on a human. Domesticated rats are a lot different than their crazy wild cousins.\n\n\"Hey Cole, do you know that there are still some places in the state of Illinois that will not allow domesticated rats in state owned facilities. I was visiting a friend in a nursing home last year and wanted to bring Buddee to see her. The facility allows dogs, cats, and other domesticated animals inside the facility, so I thought I would bring him in to brighten her day. I asked the administrator if it would be okay. He told me he was going to have to ask the state for permission since I don't have veterinarian papers on him. The state said I couldn't bring Buddee into the facility because of the plague and the disease that rats carry. Talk about medieval thinking.\"\n\n\"That is ridiculous, Kobi.\"\n\n\"I know! Even the administrator of the facility thought it was stupid.\"\n\n\"Don't they realize that the domesticated rats are cleaner than dogs or cats?\"\n\n\"I guess not. Besides, even if Buddee was infested with the plague flea, I would have the plague, and the fleas would be on me too, so I would get the nursing home infected, right?\"\n\n\"Exactly!\"\n\n\"Well, they didn't see it that way, so I couldn't bring Buddee.\"\n\n\"Well, I sure am glad you gave me a rat, because I know I will never be without one again. They are so affectionate and cute.\"\n\nCole comes over to me and holds his hand out toward Buddy so he can climb on. Buddy immediately runs right up Cole's arm and perches on his right shoulder.\n\n\"I'll see you later Cole, I need to go talk to Geoff. I want to know when he is planning to return to Perth with the antidote.\"\n\nChapter 34\n\nGeoff is probably in the lab talking to Trevor and Nicola, so I decide to stop there first before I go to the Command Post. The three of them are sitting at a table in the corner of the lab talking.\n\n\"Hey, do you guys mind a little company?\"\n\nTrevor says, \"No, we don't mind at all. Have a seat.\"\n\n\"What are you guys working on?\"\n\n\"We are trying to figure out how much antidote to make for the trip to Perth. Nicola figured about 1cc for every 20 kilograms (45 pounds) of weight. I'll just explain it in pounds so you can follow easier. The sheep station has 150 sheep, nine employees, and seven horses. The average weight of a Merino sheep is 150 pounds, the employees are 220 pounds each, and the horses are Australian stock horses weighting about 1100 pounds each. We need a total of about 750cc of antidote for the station alone. We should probably have some extra for Taylor just in case he needs it. I'll make sure he gets the formula for the antidote,\" Trevor explains.\n\nGeoff asks, \"How long will you need to make that much antidote?\"\n\nNicola replies, \"We should be finished by tomorrow afternoon if we work around the clock. It requires constant attention, so if Trevor and I split the shifts, we will be able to finish it as promised.\"\n\n\"Excellent! I'll put the jet on standby to depart for Perth tomorrow afternoon around 4:00 p.m. Kobi, do you and Derrick want to come with me to Perth? I would like Dane to come also. I know you have tickets to fly back to the states departing out of Perth, and I know you want to go see Mrs. Jones.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. I would like to go with you to the station and see Mrs. Jones. I am eager to help out any way I can. I wish Derrick and I didn't have to go back home. I really like it here.\"\n\n\"I wish you guys could stay too. I definitely have a place for you on my team and I know that Derrick could get a job at the zoo here in Darwin. This place would be like heaven for him\"\n\n\"I know. Are you seriously making an offer?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am. We have a variety of departments within the CDC that would benefit from your knowledge. I know you aren't done with your degree, but we have excellent schools here in Darwin and I am sure they would transfer all of your credits.\"\n\n\"I will have to talk to Derrick about that. I would love to stay here. I love\n\nAustralia, and I enjoy working here at the CDC. For some reason, it feels right being here, like it is where I am supposed to be. It's hard to explain.\"\n\n\"I know what you mean. When something feels right, you know it. Talk to Derrick about it, and let me know later. No worries.\"\n\n\"Thanks Geoff, I really appreciate that.\" I give him a big hug and kiss him on the cheek. I think I embarrassed him a little bit because his cheeks turned red.\n\n\"Geoff, did you request Henderson to fly us?\"\n\n\"Yes I did, but with such nasty bump on his head, he might not be cleared medically to fly by the flight doctors. We'll see.\"\n\nI am really looking forward to seeing Mrs. Jones again. Geoff talked to her yesterday and told her he had the antidote and would be flying out in a few days. She has no idea that I am coming, so I'll surprise her. Taylor and Geoff have been in constant contact with each other and have a video conference call scheduled for 3:00 p.m. today to discuss and firm up the plans. Geoff asked us to sit in on the meeting.\n\nIt is almost time for the conference call, so Geoff and I head to the Command Post. Dane and Derrick are already there laughing and cutting up like two fraternity brothers. They have become such good friends through this ordeal. Dane is like the brother Derrick never had. I have to admit that leaving Australia in a few days is going to be difficult. I have really grown to love the country and have made so many friends here in such a short time. Derrick and I seriously need to talk about the possibility of moving here.\n\n\"Hey guys, what's so funny?\"\n\n\"Nothing honey, Dane was doing his best impersonation of John Wayne. I\n\ndidn't know John Wayne had such a thick Australian accent. After the meeting,\n\nyou should hear him TRY to imitate \"The Duke\". Seriously funny stuff.\"\n\n\"After the meeting, Dane. Hey, Geoff wants us all to fly with him to Perth tomorrow. They are going to administer the antidote on Mrs. Jones station.\"\n\nDane replies, \"That sounds great! There are a lot of sheep that need the antidote, so the more hands on deck, the better.\"\n\n\"Are we planning to leave from Perth after we are finished at the station?\" Derrick asks.\n\n\"Yeah, I guess so. Geoff has made me a serious offer for employment at the CDC here in Australia. Can we talk about it later, over dinner?\" I whisper in his ear.\n\n\"Sure, no problem,\" he replies quietly.\n\nDane leans toward Derrick and whispers something in his ear. I can't hear what he is saying, but Derrick is nodding his head up and down. Then Dane pats him on the shoulder and gives me a big grin. I have no idea what that is about.\n\nThe three of us start discussing how we are going to administer the antidote. If we set up the chute again and bring the sheep in through the chute one by one like we did when we were collecting the blood, we can inject them as they pass through.\n\nDane has a puzzled look on his face and says, \"There is one thing that has been bothering me about the sheep. They have been held in the upper pasture this entire time. They are still eliminating waste, so how are the animal control officers keeping the waste from going right back into the ground. I see a vicious cycle ahead. How are they going to keep the sheep parasite free while the land is being decontaminated?\"\n\nAs we discuss these issues aloud, Geoff interjects, \"Taylor already took care of that problem. He had the animal control officers' transfer the sheep back to the lower pasture and built a special containment area on the upper pasture that allows the waste to be washed into a collection trough where it could be treated before it is disposed of. It took about a day to install the system and appears to be working just fine. It's not permanent and can be removed once the crisis is over. So after the sheep are given the antidote, they will be routed back to the same containment area. The containment area can be divided into two sections. Right now the sheep occupy the entire area, but when we start to move them out, a fence will be used to herd them over to one side of the area to allow for an exit and an entry point. Taylor designed the system and it should work like a charm.\"\n\nGeoff continues, \"The sheep will be held in the containment area until the entire farm has been treated and is parasite free. Taylor built an add-on containment barn for the horses too. The crop dusters have already been working on the grazing land, spraying bleach and other chemicals trying to kill the parasite.\"\n\nThe big television screen in the Command Post has a picture of a conference room on it, so I am assuming that is the CDC office in Perth, and we are waiting for Taylor and Matthew to commence with the video conference call. It is a live feed because I see Taylor and Matt entering the room. They sit down at the table and push a few buttons and I hear, \"Hello?\"\n\nGeoff pushes a few buttons and he says, \"Hello\" As soon as Taylor sees Derrick, Dane, and me, he jumps up and sticks his face right in front of the camera that is located in between the microphones. He knew we were alive, but I guess seeing is believing.\n\n\"I'm so glad to see you guys!\"\n\n\"It's good to see you too!\" Dane says with a huge grin on his face.\n\nGeoff goes on to explain, \"Nicola and Trevor should have the antidote ready by tomorrow afternoon, so we are planning to fly to Perth tomorrow evening. Derrick, Kobi, and Dane are going to come give us a hand at the sheep station.\"\n\n\"That's wonderful!\"\n\n\"We should be wheels on the ground around 7:00 p.m. Do you mind making reservations at the hotel for us, plus the pilot?\"\n\n\"No, not at all. Four rooms, correct?\"\n\n\"Yep. Me, Derrick and Kobi, Dane, and the pilot. That should do it.\"\n\n\"Okay, consider it done.\"\n\nThe meeting lasted for a few more minutes and then we said our goodbyes and disconnected the video feed. The only thing for Derrick and me to do now is get to the hotel and get our stuff packed. I also want to give Henderson a call.\n\nDane is going to meet us for dinner around 6:30 p.m. in the hotel restaurant, so that gives Derrick and me about two hours to get packed and talk about the possibility of moving to Australia. We decide to leave the lab and head over to the hotel and get started with the large task of packing. As we exit the command post, I see Cole and his little girl coming around the corner. He sees me and reaches down to pick the little girl up.\n\nHe whispers in her ear, \"That's the lady that gave me Buddy.\" He looks at me, \"Hey, Kobi. This is my little girl, Ella. Ella, this is Miss Kobi and her husband, Mr. Derrick.\" He taps Dane on the shoulder and says, \"And this guy right here is Mr. Dane.\"\n\nElla smiles and buries her head into Daddy's chest. She is super cute.\n\nI walk over to her and gently wiggle her foot and say, \"Hi, Ella. Your Dad told me that you really like the rat I gave him. Is that right? Did he tell you that I have one just like that at home. His name is Buddee, too. I just spell it different.\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am. My Dad told me about your rat. It was really nice of you to buy my Dad a rat, because he was really lonely here without me.\"\n\n\"I knew your Dad was really lonely without you here, so the rat would be good company until he could see you again. I kind of thought you would like him too. Am I right?\"\n\nShe nods her head yes. \"Do you let your rat run around at home?\"\n\n\"The only place he is allowed to run around is on the bathroom floor, while I am taking a shower. I have a tub next to the shower and usually put my towels there so when I get out, I don't have to walk far. He likes to climb up those towels and look at me through the glass. I don't think he can see me, but he knows I'm there. I always put my hair up in a towel when I get out. One of his favorite things to do is climb up the towel-headdress and sit right on the very top, like a meatball on top of a pile of spaghetti.\"\n\nShe starts to giggle, uncontrollably. Cole is grinning from ear to ear. \"What a sweet girl you have there, Cole.\"\n\n\"I know. She amazes me all the time.\"\n\nWe visit for a few more minutes and explain to Cole that we have to get over to the hotel and start packing because we are leaving tomorrow. We give each other a quick hug and Derrick, Dane, and I leave the lab. As I walk away, I turn around and give Ella a wave good bye. She is smiling at me and waves her tiny hand in the air.\n\nWe need to start packing, but I seriously want to talk to Derrick about Geoff's offer. There is a coffee table with a couple of chairs in the room, so we decide to sit there and discuss the offer.\n\n\"Geoff has offered me a job working at the CDC and will allow me time to finish up my medical degree. How do you feel about that?\"\n\n\"I am floored by his offer. This is a great opportunity for you, but is it something that you are interested in doing?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I am very interested. They do have medical examiners on staff with the CDC, and I would like to work in that capacity. But, I can also do some field work if I get bored with the dead bodies. I think this job will offer a lot of variety and be more of a challenge. You know how I like a good challenge.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know. You married me didn't you?\"\n\n\"Honey, you're no challenge. You were easy.\"\n\n\"Good one, Kobi. No, seriously, it this something you really want to do?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is.\"\n\n\"Well, I have to admit something to you Kobi. Ever since we arrived here in Australia, I have felt right at home. There is something about this place that makes me want to stay too.\"\n\nListening to him say the very things that I am already feeling is remarkable. It is amazing that two people can be so in sync with each other.\n\n\"I know what you mean. It's like we belong here.\"\n\n\"I know! Dane is like a brother to me and I am really going to miss him. We have made so many great friends here. The funny thing is they are really friends. They don't seem fake like the friends we have at home.\"\n\n\"That's exactly how I feel. Do you think you can get on with the zoo here\n\nin Darwin?\"\n\n\"Maybe. I was kind of thinking that maybe Dane and I could start a tour company or work together as guides in the Outback. When you first mentioned moving here, that was the first thing that entered my mind when I thought about what I would do for work here. Honestly, I think there is more opportunity for me as a zoologist here then there is in St. Louis, MO. I think we should do it. \"\n\n\"Are you serious?\" I am so excited, I am about to jump out of my skin. \"I\n\ncan't believe we are going to move to Australia. Are we really going to do it? I'm a little nervous, are you?\"\n\nDerrick reaches out for my hands and tells me to take a deep breath and look him in the eye. I do as instructed and look into his gorgeous eyes. He says, \"Yes, we are really going to do it.\"\n\nI jump up from the table like a school girl who has just been crowned Prom Queen. I start jumping up and down. Then I grab Derrick and hug him until he finally tells me he needs to breathe now. I am so happy. The fact that we are both excited and happy about our decision tells me that we have made the correct decision. I can't wait to tell Dane at dinner. I hope he will be as excited as we are.\n\nOne thing that I do need to do is call Henderson. I didn't hear from him today and I want to make sure that he is doing okay. I dial his number and he answers the phone on the third ring.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Hi. Henderson, is that you?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is. Who is this?\"\n\n\"It's Kobi.\"\n\n\"Oh, hi, Kobi. How are you guys doing?\"\n\n\"We are doing fine. How are you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm doing fine. I'm sorry I didn't call you today. I have been with the doctors all day trying to get clearance to fly tomorrow. They finally cleared me this afternoon, so I will be able to fly you guys to Perth tomorrow evening.\"\n\n\"I am so glad. Hey, do you have any plans for dinner tonight?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm sorry. I am having dinner with my daughter tonight since I am\n\ngoing to Perth tomorrow. Why, what's up?\"\n\n\"Nothing that can't wait until I see you tomorrow. We are planning to be at Base Operations around 3:30 p.m., so I guess we will see you then.\"\n\n\"Sounds good. I am looking forward to it. Are you riding shotgun?\"\n\n\"Absolutely!\"\n\n\"That's a girl. I knew you were a tough cookie. I'll see you tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Okay, Henderson, enjoy dinner with your daughter. Manana.\"\n\nDerrick and I start the dreaded task of packing up the suitcases, but for some reason, we are not unhappy. I can't imagine what that reason could be...\n\nWe are headed to the restaurant to meet Dane for dinner. I hope he is as excited about the news as we are to tell him. He is already seated at a table and motions to us as we walk into the dining area. We head over to the table and he stands up and throws his arm out toward Derrick and they shake hands like best friends.\n\n\"Good to see you, Brother!\"\n\n\"Hey man, what's going on?\"\n\n\"Not much, I just packed a little bag to take to Perth. I'm sure glad I don't\n\nhave to pack your room up.\" He starts laughing.\n\n\"Dane, Kobi and I have some news we want to share with you. You are the first to know. We have decided to move to Australia.\"\n\n\"What, are you kidding?\"\n\n\"No. We are as serious as a heart attack. Geoff has offered Kobi a job, and will give her time to finish her medical degree.\"\n\n\"Dude, you and I can work together. I don't know what we can do, but we'll figure something out. Oh yeah man, this is heaps good. I've had a good feeling about the two of you since the day I met you. I don't normally get this friendly with all of my clients, but there was something different about you. I can't put my finger on it, but I am glad you are moving here.\"\n\n\"Awesome.\" Dane's reaction did surprise me just a little bit, but I knew he felt a connection with Derrick, and now I know that the feeling between us is mutual. Funny how he had the same thought about working with Derrick.\n\n\"When are you planning to make the great migration?\"\n\n\"I don't know. We haven't worked out any of the details yet. Kobi has about six weeks left on this semester, so it will be at least two months before we leave.\"\n\nWe order dinner and a few beers and enjoy the rest of the evening. Finally, about 11:00 p.m., Derrick and I decided that we should get back to the room and pack a little more. There is no reason for us to go into the lab early in the morning, so we will be able to finish in the morning. At 1:00 a.m., we decide to call it a night and hit the sack.\n\nChapter 35\n\nDay 31\n\nI am up at 8:00 a.m. and immediately continue with the packing. Derrick is awake and pats the bed signaling me to come back to bed and lay with him a while. You don't have to ask me twice. We are both very happy with the decision we made last night about moving here in two months. I think we are really going to enjoy living here. We eventually get up and finish packing. There is a knock on the door about 11:30 a.m. It's Dane. He wanted to let us know he would be running into Darwin for a couple of hours. He will meet us at the lab around 2:00 p.m.\n\nDerrick and I finished packing at 1:00. We will need to use the CDC van\n\nto haul the suitcases to the airport, so we will pick them up on the way. We don't have to worry about the hotel room because the CDC has picked up the tab for our entire stay. We arrive at the lab around 1:30 and immediately find Geoff and ask him if we can speak to him in private. The three of us go to the Command Post and shut the door.\n\n\"What's up guys?\"\n\n\"Well, Geoff, Kobi and I would like to thank you for your gracious job offer. We discussed it and thought about it for a long time last night and decided to pass on your offer right now. But if the offer is still there in two months, we would love to move here and start a new life.\"\n\nAt first, Geoff's face is sad, but then he squints his eyes and says, \"That wasn't nice. Welcome aboard!\" He shakes my hand and then Derrick's. \"This is great news.\"\n\n\"I need to finish up my current semester before we can leave, so I hope that is okay with you. I am really looking forward to working with you and the team here at the CDC.\"\n\n\"We are glad to have you on the team. I think you are going to love the work and the country.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Geoff. I know Derrick and I are going to be happy here.\"\n\n\"I think you will be happy too.\"\n\n\"I talked to Henderson last night and he is going to fly us to Perth.\"\n\n\"That's great. I'm glad the doctors cleared him for flight. I know he is looking forward to getting back in the air. Are we still planning a 4:00 p.m. departure?\"\n\n\"Yes. He is going to be at Base Operations around 3:00 p.m. to check the\n\nweather and file his flight plan. I told him we would probably be there around 3:30 p.m. Derrick and I need to swing by the hotel on our way to the airport and pick up the bags. We will need to use the van for that. Do you mind?\"\n\n\"No, not at all. I figured you would probably do that. I know you guys didn't pack light. Cole, Nicola, and Trevor are going to meet us back here in the command post at 2:30 p.m. They want to see you guys off. They will be excited about your news. I'll wait and let you tell them.\"\n\n\"Okay. I am going to say good bye to Stoltz. Be back in a jiffy.\"\n\nI walk down the long hall to Stolz's room and am pleased to see him sitting up in the bed when I walk in. He catches sight of me and immediately perks up and grins from ear to ear.\n\n\"Hey there little lady.\" He always calls me that.\n\n\"Well, hi there, Stotz. You look like you are feeling better.\"\n\n\"Believe it or not, I am. Nicola says my prognosis is better. I still have a lot of issues going on with my heart and most of my major organs, but with a few surgeries and hopefully some magic medicine, I will survive this. I might not be fully intact, but I'll be alive. I wish I could say the same for Evan and Sevi. I know Physician Assisted Suicide is illegal in Australia, but in cases like this, I wish it were legal.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know what you mean. They are just waiting to die. But I am glad to see you in such happy spirits. I really think that your zest for life and that positive attitude of yours has helped you tremendously.\"\n\n\"Well, what are you up to today, Kobi?\"\n\n\"We are flying back to Perth with the antidote. We'll help Taylor at the sheep station for a few days, and then we are off to the United States, so I wanted\n\nto say goodbye.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's a shame. I was getting used to having you around.\"\n\n\"Really? I'll see you soon though. Derrick and I have decided to move back here. Geoff has offered me a job.\"\n\n\"Glad to hear it. I know everyone here thinks highly of you and Derrick. I, for one, am looking forward to taking you and Derrick out to dinner when you get back.\"\n\n\"You got yourself a date, even if Derrick has to come along.\"\n\nWe both start laughing. \"I'll see you in a few months, okay?\"\n\n\"Okay Kobi. You take care and have a safe trip home.\"\n\nIn my gut, I know he is going to make it. I have never seen anyone with such a strong will and positive attitude. On my way back to the Command Post, I meet up with Cole in the hall. He is headed to the command post with Buddy on his shoulder, of course. He is doing great. He is getting stronger every day. The parasite is almost totally gone from his blood now and his body is beginning to heal itself.\n\n\"So, you're off to Perth today and then home?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but we'll be back.\"\n\n\"Really? When?\"\n\n\"Probably in two months.\"\n\nCole has a very confused look on his face. Then I tell him about Geoff's offer and our decision to move to Australia. He is so excited and delighted that I will be working with them at the CDC.\n\n\"Kobi, that is terrific! Glad to have you aboard. Are you going to bring Buddee?\"\n\n\"I am planning on bringing him. I don't know the rules about bringing animals into the country, so I will have to find out more about that.\"\n\n\"I'll see if I can find anything out on my end and I'll let you know. Here, write your home phone number an address on this paper for me. I want to keep in touch with you while you're gone.\"\n\nAfter writing my information down, I give him a big hug and tell him we'll meet up again real soon. Back in the command post, Trevor and Nicola are waiting for me.\n\n\"Hey, we heard the news. So you have decided to become an Aussie?\"\n\n\"Yeah, we love it here.\"\n\n\"I can't wait to see you guys again. I'll be right here when you get back. The staff here at Nicola's lab has offered me a job as a Geneticist, so I'm not going anywhere,\" Trevor announces.\n\n\"Congratulations, Trevor!\"\n\n\"Thanks. Have a safe trip home and we'll see you in a few months.\"\n\n\"We will. You guys take care.\" We all hug each other and then the Perth bound group departs the facility. At the hotel, it takes all of us to retrieve the luggage from the room and load up the van. We finally get everything loaded and we are off to the airport, right on schedule. That's one thing I am a stickler for is being on time and thankfully, Derrick is too.\n\nAs we pull into Base Operations, I notice the airplane is already pulled out front with the red carpet in place. I don't see Henderson by the plane, so he must still be inside filing his flight plan. We pull up to the electronic gate and ring the buzzer. The lady at the reception desk in the Fixed Base Operation pushes the button releasing the magnetic latch on the gate, which allows us to enter. Marcus\n\nhas been kind enough to drive us here and pulls up right next to the plane. While\n\nthe guys are unloading and loading the bags, I am going to check on Henderson.\n\nHe is at the Flight Service Station checking the weather one more time. He doesn't see me yet, so I am going to stand behind him and listen. The weatherman is just wrapping things up so I lightly tap Henderson on the shoulder, and he is pleasantly surprised to see me.\n\nHe hugs me and says, \"You are right on time, Kobi. It's good to see you.\"\n\n\"You too! How's the bump on your noggin?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's fine. I don't even feel it anymore. How's the wrist?\"\n\n\"I still feel it, unfortunately, but it is getting better. How's the weather?\"\n\n\"Perfect. No turbulence aloft this time, and it should be clear the entire way.\"\n\n\"Great.\"\n\n\"So you said you had some news to tell me. Cough it up, girlfriend.\"\n\n\"Well, Derrick and I have decided to move to Australia. Geoff offered me a job working with him at the CDC.\"\n\n\"Really? That's fantastic. What is Derrick going to do?\"\n\n\"He and Dane already have ideas in their heads for a tour guide company. Derrick believes that there is more opportunity for him here than in St. Louis, so he is gung ho. Geoff said I could finish my medical degree here, so everything has fallen into place perfectly. We really like it here and have made some wonderful friends in the process,\" I say as I lightly punch him in the arm.\n\n\"Cool. When are you coming back?\"\n\n\"My semester is over in six weeks, so we are tentatively planning to be back in two months if everything goes according to plan.\"\n\n\"Sounds good. I've already filed our flight plan, so let me make a pit stop,\n\nand then we will go preflight the jet. Be right back.\"\n\nI decide to take a quick pit stop as well. Henderson and I walk out to the jet and see that the boys have everything loaded in the plane. Henderson and I start the walk around and Dane, Derrick, and Geoff get on the plane and get comfortable. After five minutes, Henderson and I climb on board the aircraft and start with the preflight/taxi checklist. Engines are started and we are taxiing out. Takeoff is uneventful and we are on our way to Perth.\n\nIt feels good to be in a cockpit again. I thought it would be a little strange after the crash, but it's not. It's very normal. Henderson doesn't appear to be apprehensive either. It is a beautiful day for flying. There is not a cloud in the sky, and the air is smooth. We have a slight tailwind, so we should get into Perth a little early.\n\n\"So, Henderson, are you coming with us to the sheep station this time? We aren't going to dig up any bodies this time, I promise.\"\n\n\"Yes, if it is okay with Taylor and Geoff, I would love to come.\"\n\n\"I'm sure they won't mind you tagging along. If you know how to use a needle and squeeze, you can even help us administer the antidote.\"\n\n\"I can do that!\"\n\nThe flight is uneventful and we land right on time at Perth. Taylor and Matthew are waiting for us outside of the General Aviation terminal and start waving as soon as they see us. It is really good to see them both. We unload the suitcases and proceed to the hotel. Derrick is going to check with the concierge about storing some of our suitcases in another part of the hotel. We don't need to bring everything to the room, just what we are going to use here. The concierge shows Derrick where he can keep the luggage until our departure. Dane and Derrick start carrying the bags to the vacant storage area.\n\nOur rooms are located on the 4th floor right next to each other. We agree to get cleaned up and meet downstairs in the lobby at 8:00 p.m. for dinner. Taylor wants to take us to a nice restaurant located right on the water called the Harvest Restaurant. He said it's probably one of the fanciest restaurants in Perth, and most of the celebrities go there when they are in town. I am curious to try this place.\n\nThe meal is fantastic. I opted for the venison and Derrick tried the fish. Probably the best meal I have had in years. I wasn't disappointed at all. I didn't see any movie stars I knew, but there were some of the local celebrities dining in the VIP section. I glance at my watch and notice it is close to 11:00 p.m.\n\n\"Taylor, what time are we heading out to the station tomorrow?\"\n\n\"Oh, I thought we would pick you guys up at the hotel around 8:00 a.m.\"\n\nGeoff speaks up and says, \"Sounds perfect Taylor. We'll eat here before\n\nyou pick us up.\"\n\nTaylor settles the bill with the waiter and we head back to the hotel. \"See you in the morning.\"\n\n\"Good night Taylor, Matt,\" we say in unison.\n\nChapter 36\n\nDay 32\n\nDerrick and I decide not to eat breakfast this morning because we were still full from dinner last night. I know it's unusual for me not to be hungry for breakfast, considering it is my favorite meal, but for some reason I wasn't hungry when I woke up. Derrick felt my head to make sure I didn't have a fever or something. Funny.\n\nTaylor and Matthew are right on time and waiting in the lobby when we walk in. We are the first ones down so we decide to help ourselves to a cup of coffee at the coffee bar the hotel has set up in the lobby. Dane, Henderson, and Geoff will be down shortly.\n\nEveryone is downstairs now and we are ready to go. The CDC lab truck is already at Mrs. Jones' house, so we are in a passenger van. Taylor has been out to see Mrs. Jones several times since we left and she is doing fine. He checked her blood again just a few days ago to make sure she was still parasite free. She is.\n\nWe pull into the station a few hours later, and the place looks busy. There are several trailers set up alongside the road and about a dozen cars. The animal control officers decided to stay here in the trailers until the crisis was over. Most of the people helping Mrs. Jones don't live anywhere near here, so I guess they decided just to stay.\n\n\"See that trailer right there,\" as he points to a small, white, pull behind trailer, \"that's where we have the coffins stored. We couldn't put the daughter and the grandson back in the ground until we had the soil decontaminated. As soon as the soil and water are clear of the parasites, we'll bury them again.\"\n\n\"Did any of the sheep die?\" I ask.\n\n\"No, thankfully. They have been doing a really good job keeping the holding pens clean. The sheep aren't small either which helps. They are the size of a full grown man.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's true. Who are all the people out there in the pasture and what are they doing?\" Derrick inquires.\n\n\"Those are our people. They are taking random soil samples. The crop dusters have been spraying these fields for days, and another team has been spraying the area the planes can't get to. We are hoping that the samples we collect today will show a dead parasite. All we can do is cross our fingers.\"\n\nDane speaks up and says, \"That's a lot of biohazard suits,\" as he glances at the field where 50 or so men are collecting samples.\n\n\"Yes, it is.\"\n\n\"Sounds like we have some work to do today while the boys are giving shots to the employees, sheep, and horses.\"\n\n\"Yes, we do, Kobi. We will have to check every one of the soil samples\n\ntoo. Just checking every fifth one like we did with the sheep won't work in this case. Every inch of the pasture and meadow must be parasite free.\"\n\n\"About how many samples are they planning to collect?\"\n\n\"Well let's see. She has about 500 acres of land and I want two samples from each acre, so we are looking at 1000 samples.\"\n\n\"Whew! That's a lot. When did they start collecting them?\"\n\n\"Yesterday morning. They should be done in a few hours. We can start testing the samples right away.\"\n\n\"How are we going to know which sample came from where?\"\n\n\"Luckily, one of the workers came up with a plan. A flag will be placed in the ground where the sample was taken and numbered. They sectioned out the acres with cord and have a pretty good numbering system. It's complicated, but it will work. I have the chart in the truck.\"\n\nI see the old house and sitting there on the front porch in her chair is Mrs. Jones. A big grin lands on my face and I am really excited to see her. When she sees me get out of the car, she stands up and opens her arms wide. She is so glad to see me. I don't know what it is about this lady, but she reminds me of my grandmother and I really like her.\n\n\"How are you Mrs. Jones?\"\n\n\"I'm fine Kobi, but you're not. What did you do to your arm?\"\n\n\"I kind of landed the wrong way and broke it.\"\n\n\"Oh, you poor thing. Does it still hurt?\"\n\n\"A little bit, but it's fine. The bone is healing fine.\"\n\n\"That's good. I see you brought your husband and friends along with you.\n\nIt's really good to see all of you again.\"\n\n\"I did! Derrick and Dane you know, but this is Geoff, the CDC Director from Darwin, and Henderson, our pilot and my dear friend.\"\n\nShe reaches out her hand and says, \"It is very nice to meet you.\"\n\nThey both say, \"It is very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Jones.\"\n\n\"Aren't you the fellow that I talked to on the phone?\" she says looking at Geoff.\n\n\"Yes ma'am, that's me.\"\n\n\"Okay, now I am making the connection. So, what's on the agenda today?\"\n\nGeoff explains to her what the plans are for the day. \"The employees will be the first ones to get the antidote. After that, we will inject the horses and the sheep. Kobi, Taylor, and I will be busy most of today and tomorrow checking the soil samples they are collecting. We want to make sure the soil is parasite free before we release the sheep back onto the property.\"\n\n\"It sounds like you are going to be very busy for the next couple of days.\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, we will be.\"\n\nTaylor walks up to the porch and says hi to Mrs. Jones. \"Are you folks ready to get started?\"\n\nWe all look at each other and nod yes. Here we go! \"See you later, Mrs. Jones.\"\n\nHenderson asks Geoff, as we are walking down the porch, \"What would\n\nyou like me to do?\"\n\n\"Well, you have a choice. You can help Derrick and Dane administer the antidote to the sheep, or you can help us with the soil samples.\"\n\n\"See ya,\" Henderson says as he walks with Derrick and Dane over to the\n\nholding pen. I guess that answers that question. I can't say I blame him for wanting to help those guys. Our work with the soil is going to be tiring and monotonous.\n\nTaylor is over in the employees' quarters giving them the antidote right now. Geoff and I are going to get suited up so we can get started with the soil. We step into the truck and can't believe our eyes. I have never seen so many vial trays in my life. I would guess there are probably 700 vials in here right now. It is a bit overwhelming and hard to figure out where to start. It almost paralyzes you because there is so much to do.\n\nTaylor steps into the truck and has the same reaction as we do. He says, \"Well, I reckon we better get started. I think the way we need to attack this task is simple. Kobi, take a Q-tip, dip it in water, dip the tip in the vial of dirt, and then smear it on a microscope slide. Write the vial number on the slide and hand it to me. I'll say the slide number out loud, and Geoff, you record the results. We'll switch positions every now and then so we don't get careless or bored. Geoff and I both agree with his plan and get started. First vial tray, first vial. Q-tip, water, smear, write number down, and hand it to Taylor. Taylor calls out the number and looks at it carefully.\n\n\"Negative. I don't see anything. Take a look Kobi.\"\n\nI look carefully and say, \"I don't see any. The only ones I see are dead.\"\n\n\"Okay, Geoff, number 101 is a negative.\" Geoff finds the number on the\n\nspreadsheet and checks the negative column. \"One down, 999 to go.\"\n\nThis process goes on for hours with us swapping jobs every half an hour. Taylor announces we need to take a break. We get out of the bio suits and walk outside to breathe the fresh air. I see Derrick, Dane, and Henderson working on the sheep, so I decide to stretch my legs and take a walk over to where they are working.\n\n\"It looks like you have a good system going there.\"\n\nDerrick turns to me and says, \"Yeah, it is working pretty well. I am the chute operator while Dane and Henderson are the shot givers. We will have these sheep done in about two hours. How's it going in the truck?\"\n\n\"It is tedious, tiring work. It is going to take a long time to get through all those vials.\"\n\n\"I'll come help you when I get finished here.\"\n\n\"That would be great. There are two microscopes in the truck, so with your help, we will be able to get it done twice as fast because both Geoff and Taylor can look at the samples while you and I put them on the microscope slides.\"\n\n\"I can do that.\"\n\n\"Super. I'll see you later.\"\n\nI step into the truck and see more vials of dirt on the table. The guys just brought in another batch from the fields.\n\n\"This is the last of it, Kobi,\" Geoff says with excitement.\n\nWe assume our positions and start the process all over again. One by one the vials are checked and recorded. So far, we haven't found any trace of the parasite in any of the soil samples, which is great news. We have finished right at 200 vials of soil and decide to take another break. Derrick, Dane, and Henderson are just finishing up with the sheep and have the horses still to do. That won't take them very long.\n\nMrs. Jones is coming up the driveway in her car and sees us standing outside in front of the truck. She stops and rolls down her window.\n\n\"I went into town and picked up lunch for everybody. It isn't much, just a loaf of bread and some lunchmeat. Why don't you take a break and come have some lunch. It's 2:00 p.m. and I know you have to be hungry.\"\n\n\"Absolutely, we'll be right there, Mrs. Jones.\"\n\nOnce we get everyone rounded up, we head to the house and see Mrs. Jones putting the final touches on the sandwiches. She even bought some bottled soda for us to drink. The food tastes good, and I am hungrier than I thought. Oh yeah, I didn't have any breakfast; that explains it.\n\n\"Thank you so much for lunch, Mrs. Jones. We really do appreciate it,\" Geoff says standing to his feet.\n\nThe six of us meet in front of the truck for a quick meeting. Taylor and Geoff will be on the microscopes, Derrick and I will be on soil detail, and Henderson and Dane will record the findings. 1000 samples is a lot to look at, and I'll be surprised if we finish them today. We'll be lucky to get 500 done.\n\nBy 6:00 p.m., we are exhausted. Looking at the list, we checked 625 samples today. Not too shabby.\n\n\"Let's call it a day,\" Taylor announces.\n\nNo one argues with that idea at all. We'll come back in the morning to finish the samples. With the six of us working, we will have them finished in about three hours.\n\n\"I'll go tell Mrs. Jones that we are done here for today. I'll be right back,\" I say.\n\nTaylor locks the truck, and we pile into the van. We are going to stay at the same motel we stayed at before. I'm very tired and can't wait to go horizontal. I don't know why I am so tired; it's not like I did anything strenuous today. I just want a quick bite from the restaurant adjacent to the motel and then a nice long bath. After that, sleep.\n\nI think Derrick is planning to have a beer with the guys while I am taking my bath, so I will enjoy a bath even longer. We are leaving in two days, so I'm sure he and Dane have a lot to discuss about their future together as tour guides.\n\nWe pull into the motel and pile into the restaurant for a quick meal. I give Derrick a quick kiss on the forehead and go to my room. As I am drawing my bath, I happen to glance at myself in the mirror, and am surprised to see the dark circles rooted under my eyes. I reach in my bag, get out my facial cleanser, and give my face a good wash. I don't like to use the motel soap because it dries my skin out badly.\n\nI squeeze a little bit of body wash in the stream of water cascading into the tub and slide down into the water, being careful not to get my cast wet. Oh, this feels so good. I reach for the hot water handle, and increase the temperature as hot as I can stand it. Once the tub is filled, I turn off the water and soak. I'm enjoying the heat of the water, and decide to lean my head back onto a towel I have rolled up. I close my eyes and relax. I can feel the tension leaving my body as the steam rises above the thin layer of bubbles on top of the water. It is so quiet.\n\nI stay and soak in the water until it gets so cold, I can't stand it anymore. I\n\nregrettably get out of the tub and dry off. I think I am going to pull my hair into a ponytail and call it done. I don't know what time Derrick will be back, but I decide to climb into bed and turn the television on. They are showing reruns of my favorite show, NCIS, so I'll just cuddle up with Gibbs and enjoy the evening.\n\nSomeone is shaking my shoulder telling me to wake up. \"Gibbs, not\n\ntonight, I'm tired.\"\n\n\"Honey, wake up. It's Derrick, not Gibbs. Have you been watching NCIS again?\"\n\n\"Oh, hi Baby. What time is it?\"\n\n\"It's just after 10:00 p.m.\"\n\n\"I must have fallen asleep. Did you have fun with the boys?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I had a blast. We were talking about our first loves and wondering what happened to them. Taylor was hilarious. His first love was a girl named Heather. He told us story after story about her and then informed us that her name is now Hector. Turns out the girl was really a dude, and he didn't know it.\"\n\n\"How could he have not known she was a dude?\"\n\n\"Well, I guess he never got to second base. I asked him why the 'he/she' was dressing up as a woman in the first place. He really didn't have an answer other than the 'he/she' was a little confused about her gender. They were only 12 and 13 years old.\"\n\n\"I can't believe the mother of the boy would let him dress up as a girl and pretend to be a girl. That sounds a little far-fetched, don't you think?\"\n\n\"I don't know, but it sure makes for a funny story. Especially when he gets to the part when he found out the girl of his dreams was a dude.\"\n\n\"How did he find out?\"\n\n\"Well, I should really let him tell the story because he tells it so well. I'll try, but it won't be as funny. Heather was running around the track during gym class in her prissy fashion when out of nowhere, a soccer ball from the infield hit her in the gut. She grabbed her groin and fell to ground moaning in pain. Everyone in the class rushed over to see what the matter was, including the coach. He bent down beside her and asked her if she was okay. That's when the coach realized, Heather was not a Heather at all. The coach stood up, looked at her/him, shook his head, and walked away. Heather eventually got up and walked directly to the front office. No one ever saw her again. Taylor said he felt sick.\n\n\"Are you serious?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I am. The way he tells the story is what makes it so funny.\" He kisses me on the forehead and says, \"Let me go get cleaned up. Back in a flash.\"\n\nI follow him into the bathroom to brush my teeth and use the bathroom one more time. I go right back to bed and wait for him to finish.\n\nChapter 37\n\nDay 33\n\nI wake fairly early with an awful pain in my stomach. Something is coming up my esophagus. I run to the toilet and start vomiting. I immediately think back to the meal I had last evening and can't imagine what could have made me this sick. I am hugging the toilet, with my cheek on the side of the bowl thanking it for being cool. Derrick comes running into the bathroom and gets on the floor right next to me with a wet wash cloth.\n\n\"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I had a pain in my stomach and then just starting throwing up, I don't know why.\"\n\nDerrick stands up and gets me a small glass of ice cold Pepsi out of the mini-frig in the room. \"Here, see if this helps.\"\n\nI take a few small sips and say, \"I remember when I was a little girl, I would get sick for no reason at all. Sometimes, I would wake up, throw up, and get ready for school. It happened often. I'm sure this is nothing. Do we have any crackers?\"\n\n\"No we don't, but I'll run across the street to the store and grab a sleeve of crackers. I'll be back in a flash.\"\n\nJust before Derrick walks out the door there is a knock. Derrick opens the door and sees Dane outside in the hallway.\n\n\"G'day Derrick. Are you and Kobi ready to go get breakfast? We are meeting Taylor and Geoff at 10:00 a.m.\"\n\n\"No, not really. She is throwing up this morning, so I am going to go across the street for some crackers. Do you want to come?\"\n\n\"No worries, let's go.\"\n\nDerrick leaves the can of Pepsi by the bedside and heads to the grocery store. I lay my head back down and try really hard to clear my mind and let the Pepsi take effect. It is starting to feel better. I glance at the clock and notice that it has been about two hours since Derrick and Dane left. I must have fallen asleep. Where could they be? A few minutes later, Derrick comes in and has blood all over his shirt.\n\n\"What on earth? Derrick, it that your blood? Where's Dane?\"\n\n\"Dane is in the hospital. He's going to be fine, so don't worry. He was shot in the shoulder. The bullet went straight through the flesh and exited out the back just above the shoulder blade. He is very lucky.\"\n\n\"Shot!\" I yell as I sit up in bed completely forgetting about my nausea. \"Start at the beginning. What happened?\"\n\n\"We walked in the store, and went to the aisle where the crackers were located. We were looking at all the different crackers they had trying to figure out which one would be best, when we heard someone toward the front of the store yelling. We looked at each other and didn't really give it much thought. The yelling intensified and then we heard a woman scream. We looked down the aisle toward the check-out register and saw a man with a gun. He was waving the gun in the air demanding the clerk to give him all the money in the register. The clerk must have been taking too long because the man grabbed the screaming woman and said that he was going to shoot her if he didn't hand over all the money right now.\"\n\n\"Are you kidding me?\"\n\n\"No Honey, I am as serious as a heart attack. Anyway, he had the gun pointed at the lady's head, right at her temple. She was terrified! Then the man looked around and noticed us looking at him from the back of the store and demanded that we come to the front of the store where he could see us. So, Dane and I walked up toward the front of the store and sat on the floor right in front of the soda cooler. We could hear the sirens coming, so we thought this was all going to be over soon, but that's when things started getting tense. The man became so irate and started threatening to kill us one by one, starting with the woman he had at gunpoint.\"\n\nDerrick takes a swig of Pepsi and continues, \"He was furious that someone had called the police and was demanding to know who did it. The clerk told him that there was a panic button behind the register and that he had pushed it earlier because, after all, that's what the switch is for. Well, the gunman turned the gun on the clerk and fired, hitting the man in the chest. The man went down hard. I jumped up to go over and help the injured man, but the robber pointed the gun at me and told me to sit down and shut up. I did. I could hear the man behind the register moaning and writhing in pain, but I was helpless.\"\n\n\"You are so lucky he didn't shoot you right then and there!\"\n\n\"I know! The police were in front of the store with their guns drawn ordering the gunman to come out with his hands up. Honestly, Kobi, I felt like I was in a movie. It was so surreal. I think the gunman was on drugs or something, because he had this wild, crazy look in his eyes and wasn't about to surrender, you could just tell. He was yelling back at the cops, but I don't really know what he was saying. It was mumbo-jumbo. Dane and I looked at each other and couldn't believe this was happening. I whispered to Dane if he had any ideas about what we could do to take this guy down, and Dane shook his head left to right and whispered, 'No.' The gunman looked at me with his gun pointed right at my heart and yelled, 'If you say another word, I will shoot you. Do you understand?' I put my lips together and didn't say another word.\n\n\"Everyone was scared, including me. I could hear sniffling and crying, but there was nothing we could do. We were at the mercy of a crazy man. A few seconds later, the phone behind the register rang. The man grabbed a woman off the floor and told her to answer the phone. I knew it was probably the police trying to negotiate the gunman out of the store. She looked at the gunman and told him it was the police and they wanted to talk to him. He was very irrational with them on the phone making demands that were not physically possible. He slammed the phone down on the counter and threw a tantrum.\n\n\"I was really surprised that he didn't shoot one of us because he was so mad. Then he started hitting his head with his hands, one of which had the gun in it. Obviously, he didn't feel the pain, because a trickle of blood was coming down his forehead, so he must have cut himself with the gun during his fit of frenzy. Kobi, this guy was an idiot, I mean, completely off his rocker. At this point, I didn't even want to make eye contact with the man, because I thought he would take it as a threatening gesture. So, I just pulled my knees up into my chest and stared at the tops of my shoes.\n\n\"There was a young woman in there that really had to go to the hospital. Her daughter was recovering from open heart surgery, and the woman had just gone home for a few hours to get a little sleep. She was frantic because her little girl was still in the Intensive Care Unit and not out of danger yet. She begged him to let her go. She was crying uncontrollably. I could tell that the gunman was getting very annoyed with the woman. I tried to get the woman to be quiet, but by now she was hysterical. She was rocking back and forth crying, 'Please let me go; I have to get to my little girl, please!'\n\n\"The gunman was pacing back and forth, glancing out of the window at the police, getting more agitated with every passing moment. Then, all of a sudden, he reached down and yanked the woman up by her hair and yelled at her to shut up. This situation was about to go from bad to worse. The woman was like a ragdoll--exhausted and defeated. The man looked at her and said that if she didn't shut up, he would shut her up. He put the gun in her mouth. Dane lunged forward toward the man and grabbed the gun. There was a struggle and then a gunshot. Dane took a hit, but continued to fight with the gunman. He managed to get the gun away from the gunman and render him unconscious, thanks to a large bottle of wine sitting by the register. He knocked the gunman out cold. I jumped up and grabbed some rope off the shelf behind me and tied him up. There was another man in the store who volunteered to go outside and get the police.\n\n\"I went over to Dane to see if he was okay and noticed that he had been shot in the shoulder. I grabbed a rag and held it on the wound. That's when I noticed that the bullet had gone straight through his shoulder. At that moment, I knew Dane was going to be fine. Someone else was behind the register checking on the man that had been shot in the chest. He wasn't as lucky. He was dead.\n\n\"The police entered the store, and I told them that the gunman was on the floor, tied up. They called for an ambulance and a coroner. They took a quick statement from Dane and then escorted him to the ambulance. They took my statement next, because I told them that I had to go tend to my sick wife.\"\n\nI grab Derrick and give him the biggest hug I can muster up. I feel terror. It's really hard to explain the feeling you get when you find out, after the fact, that someone you really love could have been killed. It's the feeling you get when you almost have a terrible car accident, but at the last moment you manage to swerve the car and avoid the collision. You aren't scared while it is happening; you are scared after it is over. You're scared because of what COULD have happened. I was shaking and trembling as I hugged him.\n\nHe assures me he is fine, but I can't stop shaking. Then he handed me the crackers. I just laughed and hugged him again. After all that, he remembered the crackers. I am feeling much better now and decide to get dressed after eating some crackers. Derrick really wants to go to the hospital to visit Dane. While I am getting dressed, Derrick asks me the oddest question.\n\n\"You're not pregnant, are you?\"\n\n\"No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"Dane mentioned it when we were looking at the crackers. He mentioned, with a smile, that it might be morning sickness and said, 'Dane is a nice name.' I just smiled and keep browsing for crackers.\"\n\n\"Oh, he's funny. Dane is a nice name, but I'm not ready to have children yet. You?\"\n\n\"No, not yet. I really want you to finish Medical School and get settled in your career. I was thinking maybe in a few years, we might have a couple of kids. I'm in no hurry.\"\n\n\"You always put me first; what about yourself?\"\n\n\"I don't have to finish school; you do. I can find a job here, no problem.\"\n\n\"True. Well, I'm almost ready. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be good to go.\" I'm thinking in my head, I don't think I'm pregnant. Hmmmm.\n\nWhile I am finishing up, I hear Derrick pick up the phone. \"Hey Geoff, it's Derrick. Listen, we are going to be a little late. Something pretty serious happened this morning and Dane is in the hospital. Kobi and I will be downstairs in a few minutes and we'll tell you all about it.\"\n\nDerrick and I leave the room and head downstairs to meet with Taylor, Geoff, and Henderson. We sit down in the lobby, and Derrick tells them everything that happened. Geoff is in a state of shock, I think. He hasn't said a word and his mouth is open. Of course, we are going to go to the hospital to see Dane and make sure he's okay. Taylor has the car parked out front and offers to drive us to the hospital. It only takes about five minutes to get there since this is such a small town. I am really surprised they even have a hospital.\n\nWe pull into the parking lot, and I am not surprised to see that the hospital\n\nis a simple one story office building with a handful of parking spots in the front. There is an Emergency room though, which is where I am guessing Dane is. We walk into the building and go to the nurse on duty. She directs us to a room down the hall on the left. The five of us walk into the room and see Dane sitting up on the edge of the bed with a sling around his arm.\n\n\"The doctor said it was a clean entry and exit wound. I have a few stiches in the front, and a few in the back. There is no damage to the shoulder at all.\"\n\n\"That's great news,\" Derrick says and sighs with relief.\n\n\"Yeah, Doc says that I am gonna be sore for a while, but that's okay. I saved that Sheila's life, I think.\"\n\n\"Yes, you did. He was about to shoot her, I'm sure of it. You are a hero, man.\"\n\n\"I don't feel like a hero,\" he says with a huge grin on his face.\n\nI walk over to Dane and gently hug his good side and whisper, \"I'm glad you're okay, and no, I'm not pregnant.\"\n\nHe starts to laugh and says, \"I really like the name Dane. You can use it for a boy or a girl.\"\n\nEveryone in the room has a good laugh.\n\nDerrick asks, \"So when are you going to be released?\"\n\n\"The Doc said I could leave anytime. There is no reason to keep me overnight, so I can leave now, if that's okay with you guys. No need to drop me off at the hotel. I'd like to go to the station with you. Can we eat breakfast first though; I'm starving.\"\n\nEveryone in the room, including the nurse, breaks out into a gut-busting laugh. Geoff settles the bill with the receptionist and we leave the hospital. There\n\nis a diner just up the road; we'll stop there for breakfast.\n\nWhen we arrive at the station, we see that Matthew is already there checking on the employees. One by one, there blood is being checked, and so far the antidote is working—the parasites are dead.\n\nWe get finished with the soil samples within a few hours and decide to go pay Mrs. Jones a visit. As we approach the house, she walks out of the front door and sits in her chair on the porch. \"Hello, Mrs. Jones, we all say.\"\n\n\"Hello. Are you all finished?\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, we are,\" Taylor says. \"We have checked 1000 soil samples, and there is no evidence of the parasites. They appear to be dead--all of them. The sheep will be monitored, and their blood will be checked in a few days to make sure the parasites are dead before releasing them back to graze. My team of animal control officers are going to stay in place until everything is back to normal.\"\n\n\"Good! I'm so glad. When is your friend, Ken, going to come back?\"\n\n\"I talked to him last night, and he will be out here tomorrow. Is that okay?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, that's great. I really appreciate everything you've done--all of you.\" She glances at me and says, \"I hope that the next time you and your husband come to Australia, you will come visit me.\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, of course we will. In fact, Derrick and I are planning to move to Darwin in a few months, so we may be seeing you real soon.\"\n\n\"That's wonderful. Are you going to be working with the CDC?\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am, I am. Geoff offered me a job I couldn't refuse.\"\n\n\"That's wonderful.\"\n\nI walk over to her, and give her a big hug. \"You take care of yourself, Mrs. Jones, and I'll see you soon.\" She returns the hug and we descend down the stairs of the front porch and get into the van. I glance back at her and see her standing on the porch waving as we drive away. I return the wave as we pick up speed and drive down the long driveway that exits her property.\n\nWe still need to swing by the hotel and check out before we go to Perth. That shouldn't take us long at all. Hopefully, we will be on the road soon, because our flight departs at 7:00 p.m. for Los Angeles. It's 1:00 p. m. right now and the drives takes a couple of hours, so we should have plenty of time.\n\nIt's 3:00 p.m. when we hit the outskirts of Perth, and another half an hour before we get to the hotel. We still have a lot of suitcases to pick up before we go to the airport. The airline wants us to arrive two hours prior to departure, which will allow us time to get all the bags checked and go through security. Just to be safe, Derrick and I are planning to get to the airport around 4:30 p.m. We figure it will take that long for a bellman to unload our bags and help us into the terminal. We have a total of six suitcases and two carry-ons.\n\nEverything is loaded into the van, and we are off to the airport. It's hard to believe that our adventure has come to an end here in Australia, but we will be back in a few months to start a new one. We really aren't saying good bye to anyone, we are just saying, see you soon. We pull up to the passenger load and unload zone and motion for a bellman to come help us with our bags. Just when we start to unload the van, Geoff gets a phone call.\n\n\"Oh, hi Trevor. How are things in Darwin?\" There is a long pause and I see a frown come across Geoff's face. \"Are you serious? When was the email sent?\" Another long pause. \"Okay, I'll see you in the morning.\"\n\n\"Geoff, what was that about?\" Taylor inquires.\n\n\"When the CDC went to the lab facility, where Trevor used to work, they recovered a computer belonging to the doctor responsible for creating the parasite, Dr. Elliot. He was the one who wanted to release it at that business meeting Trevor was supposed to go to. Well, anyway, Trevor wanted us to know that the computer was finally hacked into by our team and they found a lot of e-mails to this doctor in New York. The most disturbing e-mail was the last one sent right before his death, based on Trevor's timeline. The e-mail simply stated,\n\n\"I did it. The parasite has been released. Here's the formula.\"\n\n###\n\nAbout the Author\n\nJeanie Hood is a retired KC-135 Air Force pilot and has served in the Gulf War, Operations Iraqi and Enduring Freedom. She is originally from Morgan City, LA, but currently resides in O'Fallon, IL. She enjoys travelling with her son and substitute teaching for local schools...\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nThe Descendant\n\nCopyright 2020 by Nik Kominos\n\nPublished by Nik Kominos at Smashwords\n\nSmashwords Edition License Notes\n\nThank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.\n\nAuthor's Notes\n\nThis is a work of fiction for reader's enjoyment. Names, characters, places, and situations are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, cats, dogs, horses, living or dead, actual events, or organizations is entirely coincidental.\n\n### The Descendant\n\nShamus O'Keefe – September, 1912\n\nThe rusty hulk of the coastal steamer hissed as it slowly pulled away from the largest dock in Round Harbor. The ship's whistle shrieked so loud Shamus flinched, even though he was expecting it. At the railing he could see Norah holding their son, Patrick, in her arms. Shamus waved, but she stood there impassively, staring back at him. It was no surprise and he deserved no better. His wife and two-year-old son were bound for Portland, and then on to Boston, where her mother lived. He had driven her away, even though he loved her. She could no longer bear the shame and humiliation he had put her through. His many dalliances were no secret. The desires that drove him to this were overwhelming and something he found himself unable to control. Shamus was tall and handsome with a powerful physique. Only twenty-five years old, he had already amassed a small fortune. Even though he had a wife and child, many women had succumbed to his charms, unable to contain themselves any more than he could.\n\nLost in thought and regret, Shamus barely felt a hand lightly grasp his shoulder. \"It was bound to happen, old friend,\" said a sad voice.\n\nShamus turned to the man. \"I know, Arthur. I know. Do you think I will ever be able shun those who are not my wife and win her back?\"\n\nArthur raised his eyebrows. \"Of course, Shamus, just as surely as my pig will sprout wings and learn to fly.\"\n\nShamus managed a guilty smile. \"Aye, mate, you know me too well.\" He turned back to watch the steamer disappear around the point until only a trail of smoke lifting skyward proclaimed its departure. Perhaps he could change, he mused. Perhaps, after time was given the chance to work its magic, he could seek her out and make amends. His son would need a father to learn from, to show him the way...to be his legacy. Yes, he decided, he would go to them when the time was right.\n\nConall O'Keefe - April, Present Day\n\nThe conference room was dry and incredibly stuffy. Conall's eyes were burning. Maybe it was the sad excuse for ventilation in the old building or maybe it was the achingly boring PowerPoint presentation he had just been subjected to, but he was suffering. Dr. Marty Lynch was more boring than his presentation. Yes, he was a senior researcher at the Oceanographic Institute of the Atlantic, Conall's erstwhile, part-time employer, but he was still a stiff. Conall's friend, Rajeev \"Raj\" Choudhary, sat next to him, eyes wide with apparently rapt attention. As a research assistant, he needed to seriously kiss ass to survive his next job review.\n\n\"Dr. Lynch, that was amazing,\" said Raj, using his most enthusiastic voice. He turned to Conall. \"This is going to be so cool working this up for the media.\" Raj had his back to Dr. Lynch and rolled his eyes dramatically.\n\nConall was a science writer for the Institute...a part time one, that is. \"Totally,\" agreed Conall, using all his self-control to stifle a laugh. He looked at Dr. Lynch and smiled.\n\nDr. Marty eyed them both suspiciously. \"Very well. I'll e-mail you the presentation and my notes to work from, but I want to see the final product before releasing it.\"\n\n\"Of course, of course,\" Conall assured him. He couldn't wait for this day to be over.\n\nAfter Dr. Lynch left, Raj let out a sigh. \"I can't wait for that asshole to die so I can take his job.\"\n\nConall laughed. \"That's a little harsh, Raj. I thought your people wouldn't even kill a cow.\"\n\n\"I had a hamburger for lunch,\" he replied, deadpan.\n\n\"Okay, killer. What say we get a drink? I'm off the clock.\" Thirty minutes later they were ensconced at a dive bar that served Pabst Blue Ribbon pounders at rock-bottom prices.\n\nRaj took a big swig from the can...they didn't do glasses at a place like this. \"It's April and Cape Cod is about to become a steaming mass of asshole tourists from who the hell knows where. Where you gonna live?\"\n\nConall had been house sitting for the winter, but over the next few months housing was going to be almost impossible. Even with his income from handyman work, it was always ugly in the summer. \"I don't know. I wish my job at the Institute was full time and it paid a living wage.\"\n\nRaj snorted some beer up his nose. When he stopped coughing, he gave Conall a look. \"Is that like a Cinderella thing? I don't see a glass slipper and you don't have the legs for it.\"\n\nConall huffed a laugh. \"I guess not, but a guy can dream, can't he?\"\n\n\"And that's not even what you really want anyway, is it? What about that novel you're writing? You could make some serious cash. You know, like that chick who wrote the books with vampires and werewolves?\"\n\n\"Yeah, like that's going to happen.\"\n\n\"Hey, it could happen.\" Raj took a big swig off his beer, then put it down on the bar. \"Drink up. This plan is going to sound way better after a couple of more beers.\"\n\nConall grinned. \"Excellent point. Guess we should get to work on that.\"\n\nOn his way home he ordered a take-out pizza. It wasn't really his home; it was just a place to stay until the weather got warm and he had to move somewhere else. He tossed the pizza box down on the kitchen table and fired up his laptop. As it was booting up he got a beer from the refrigerator. He grabbed a slice of still-warm pizza, took a generous bite and, still holding it in one hand, typed his password in with the other.\n\nFor the next hour he browsed his social media accounts, his news feed, and even took the time to stare at the story he'd been working on without adding a word to it. When he checked his work email, more out of boredom than anything else, he saw one that caught his attention. He launched it and began to read...\n\nDear Mr. O'Keefe,\n\nI am reaching out to you as the legal representative of the O'Keefe Foundation, which is located in Round Harbor, Maine. One of my principal duties is to locate descendants of the founder, Mr. Shamus O'Keefe. I have recently come into possession of information leading me to believe you may be a direct patrilineal descendant of Mr. O'Keefe. As such, I would very much like to discuss the matter with you.\n\nPlease contact me by phone at 207-555-0451 or by responding to this email. Thank you for your attention to this matter.\n\nSincerely, Oliver Raines Sr., Esq.\n\nConall sat back in his chair and stared at the note. This was weird; it had to be some scam. He quickly launched Google and typed the man's name in the browser. He found it on the second page. The guy was a lawyer in a small firm located in Round Harbor, Maine. The phone number matched. He couldn't find anything on the O'Keefe Foundation, which seemed a little suspicious. Even so, he was intrigued. He'd heard stories from his father, Michael, about the family having had a Maine connection many years ago. Conall wished he could call him and ask, but his father died years ago in a car accident. He missed him.\n\nSatisfied the email wasn't a total scam, he was still wary. He decided to call the lawyer the following day. With that, he powered down his laptop and headed off to bed.\n\nConall awoke the next morning a little tired. It was more than just a mild hangover. He'd had strange dreams, though just now he couldn't remember them. He took a shower, got dressed and headed out the door. His first stop, as always, was at a Dunkin Donuts drive-through. There was something soothing and addictive about their coffee. Sufficiently powered up by the caffeine, he was ready for his half day of work...and it was Friday.\n\nHis first stop was Raj's cramped and disorderly office. He poked his head through the open door. \"Hey, Raj. We working on the Lynch presentation today?\"\n\nHis friend looked up. \"Oh...yeah. Just give me a minute, okay? I've got to finish this up.\" Raj looked down at his monitor and resumed typing.\n\n\"Sure, meet me in the cafeteria when you're ready,\" Conall replied. Raj grunted his agreement.\n\nThe morning passed uneventfully, but productively. Raj and Conall made good progress on the press release. They were able to put together a good first draft for Dr. Marty. It was lunchtime when they finished. \"I'm going to e-mail this to Lynch before I leave. He can chew on it over the weekend,\" said Conall.\n\nRaj nodded his head. \"What are you doing this weekend? Moping around, drinking beer, and thinking about getting laid?\"\n\n\"Ouch.\" Unfortunately, Raj's teasing comment hit a little too close to home for comfort. He'd broken up with his latest girlfriend over a month ago and it was slim pickings during the off-season on the Cape. \"Actually, I have a call to make to my lawyer.\"\n\n\"Your what?\"\n\n\"Lawyer.\" Raj gave him a confused look. \"Okay, he's not really my lawyer. I got this crazy e-mail last night.\" Conall proceeded to tell Raj about it.\n\nRaj was nodding his head at the end. \"Yeah, that's odd alright. Just be careful if he asks you to send him a thousand dollars in gift cards so you can collect your inheritance.\"\n\n\"Yeah, got that. I'm going to call him after lunch and see what he has to say.\"\n\nAn hour later Conall was home and pacing nervously back and forth, though he wasn't entirely sure why. He tapped in the lawyer's number. On the second ring he heard the pleasant voice of a woman.\n\n\"Raines Law Office. How may I help you?\"\n\n\"I'd like to speak with Mr. Raines.\"\n\n\"Junior or Senior?\"\n\n\"Senior?\"\n\n\"And whom shall I say is calling?\"\n\n\"Conall O'Keefe.\"\n\nThere was a pause before the woman responded. \"Oh...\"\n\nHe thought she sounded startled. \"I think he's expecting my call.\"\n\n\"Of course, Mr. O'Keefe. I'll put you right through.\"\n\nAfter a few moments a man came on the line. \"Mr. O'Keefe, thank you for calling.\"\n\nBy the sound of his voice Conall judged him to be middle aged, at least. \"Well, I must say your e-mail was intriguing. I'm curious as to why you contacted me.\"\n\n\"Understandably. First, I was hoping we could confirm a few things. I believe your father's name was Michael. Is that correct?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" replied Conall warily.\n\n\"And I'm sorry for your loss.\"\n\nThis guy had done his homework. \"Thanks, but it's been quite a few years.\"\n\n\"Nonetheless, a sad event. Your grandfather's name was Liam?\" he continued.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Apologies for delving so deeply into the past...but was your great-grandfather's father's name Patrick?\"\n\nConall narrowed his eyes. What was going on? \"I'm not sure, to tell you the truth.\"\n\nThere was a pause before Raines continued. \"According to the genealogical records available to me, he was. And Patrick O'Keefe was the sole child and heir of Shamus O'Keefe.\"\n\nConall shook his head. \"So what? I mean, it's interesting, but...\"\n\nThe lawyer cut him off. \"Mr. O'Keefe, you may be a beneficiary of your great-great-grandfather's estate.\"\n\nConall was stunned. \"Seriously?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. However, any further discussions concerning this matter would need to take place in person.\"\n\nAnd there is was; another bizarre ask. \"Is this the part where you ask me to give you a thousand dollars in gift cards from Walmart?\"\n\n\"Sorry?\"\n\n\"Uh, never mind. Listen, I don't see why this can't be taken care of over the phone. I've got a job, you know.\" A crappy job, he thought, but a job.\n\n\"I can be flexible, but we must meet in person,\" said Raines emphatically.\n\nConall thought about it for a moment. It was a five-hour drive to Round Harbor. He could head out early the next morning, be there by late morning, and drive back on Sunday. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. \"I know it's a Saturday, but can you meet me tomorrow at eleven?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\n\"Your office?\"\n\n\"Yes, that would be fine.\"\n\n\"Then I'll see you tomorrow.\"\n\nShamus O'Keefe - June, 1914\n\nShamus had not spent the last two years idling. Between his stocks and business interests in shipping, timber, and manufacturing, he was now extremely wealthy. America was booming. He also knew war was coming. Even though huge opportunities for profit lay just on the horizon, he could take no pleasure in it. War was insanity. However, his wealth afforded him the opportunity to ensure both Nora and Patrick would never want for anything. The problem was he had lost touch with them. More to the point, she had stopped answering his letters. Shamus had accepted she would never return to him, which was just as well, since his longing for women had never subsided, but he did not want to lose contact with his only child, his son. Towards that end he hired a private detective, the best Boston had to offer.\n\nThe train from Portland to Boston pulled into North Station almost on time. Shamus and his best friend, Arthur, who was now also his lawyer, had made the urgent trip together. From the station they took a cab to the offices of Thomas J. Paine and Company, which was located in South Boston. They were meeting with the Mr. Paine himself, the owner of the detective agency.\n\nSoon after their arrival they were ushered to Mr. Paine's office. Thomas Paine was a gruff-looking man with a crooked nose and a burly frame. He sported long sideburns and a handlebar moustache. His tweed jacket seemed to speak to his occupation. He stepped forward, sharing a broad smile with his guests, and extended his hand to Shamus.\n\n\"Mr. O'Keefe, I'm very glad to meet you at last.\"\n\n\"And you as well, Mr. Paine.\" He turned to Arthur. \"Please let me introduce my attorney, Mr. Arthur Raines, Esquire.\"\n\nPaine gave Arthur a little bow and shook his hand. \"Please to meet you, sir.\"\n\nArthur gave him a thin smile. \"Likewise, Mr. Paine.\"\n\nThe three men seated themselves; Paine behind his large oak desk and Shamus and Arthur on the opposite side. There was a moment they all sat, silently appraising each other. Finally, Paine spoke. \"I wish I had better news, Mr. O'Keefe.\"\n\n\"Oh?\"\n\n\"Your wife and child are no longer living with her mother. In fact, Mrs. Dunphy has passed away.\"\n\nShamus was briefly taken aback. He had no idea his shrewish mother-in-law had died. \"And?\"\n\n\"It seems Mrs. O'Keefe quickly liquidated her mother's modest estate and disappeared.\"\n\n\"Disappeared? How is that?\"\n\nPaine squirmed a bit in his chair. \"Based on a conversation with the probate attorney, who was actually quite talkative after his fourth drink, she said she was looking to make a new start in life and was leaving town.\"\n\nShamus leaned forward. \"For where?\"\n\n\"She didn't say. In fact, he said she made a point of being evasive.\"\n\nArthur took the opportunity to weigh in. \"Mr. Paine, you have been paid a substantial sum of money for information leading to the location of Mrs. O'Keefe and her son. Please assure us further progress has been made on this account.\"\n\nPaine set his jaw. \"I'm afraid I can't, Mr. Raines. There was no forwarding address, the neighbors were interviewed and know nothing, and the bank accounts were closed. I've contacted all the moving companies in the area. They have no records pertaining to a Mrs. O'Keefe or of moving anyone from her former address. I have even been to see the priest at the church she attended...nothing. It seems her move was well planned to leave no trace. I'm sorry.\"\n\nShamus and Arthur took a cab to the Parker House Hotel and checked in. The venerable establishment was located in the center of the city, just two blocks from Boston Commons, and had a reputation for fine dining and excellent service. When it was early evening, they went down to the dining room and shared a fine meal. Afterward, Shamus was quiet as they repaired to the lounge to smoke their after-dinner cigars. Arthur knew his friend was melancholy, but also knew he could bounce back quickly. He just needed a nudge. Once their brandies were in hand, they lit their cigars. Arthur drew deeply on his Havana; the men made sure to pack an ample supply for the trip.\n\n\"Shamus my friend, it's a pity we've come so far and have nothing to show for it.\" said Arthur. Shamus nodded and took a slow puff from his aromatic smoke. \"We've left Mr. Paine a handsome retainer to finance continued investigations, so all that could be done has been done.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" replied Shamus glumly.\n\n\"Therefore, I have a proposition.\"\n\nShamus sat up in his chair and turned to his friend expectantly. \"And what might that be?\"\n\n\"Given we rarely visit such a grand place as Boston, I thought it would be sinful to return home without availing ourselves of the entertainment this fine city affords.\"\n\nShamus saw the smirk on his friend's face. \"Is that so, counselor?\"\n\n\"It is. I have made inquiries.\"\n\n\"And tell me the nature of these inquiries,\" Shamus replied, knowing full well what his friend would say.\n\n\"It seems a house of ill repute, not far from here, offers delights unheard of, though only to men of substantial means.\"\n\nShamus grinned. \"We are men of substantial means.\"\n\nArthur laughed. \"To be certain, it is you who possesses substantial means.\"\n\n\"When we are together, my friend, it is we.\" Shamus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. \"As my attorney, are you advising me to visit this den of sin to drown my sorrows and partake of the forbidden pleasures they afford?\"\n\n\"Indisputably.\"\n\n\"Then let us call a cab and be off.\"\n\nWhen Shamus and Arthur entered the house, a pretty young woman, scantily clad, took their hats and coats. They entered a spacious living room where a middle-aged woman with heavy make-up and wearing a red satin dress greeted them. \"Good evening, gentlemen. How might I help you this evening?\"\n\nShamus surveyed the room. The walls were painted red above the dark polished wainscoting. Overstuffed chairs were scattered around the room. Most were occupied by older men who were less than attractive, but obviously well-to-do. The fireplace at the far side of the room cast a pleasant glow and the faint smell of smoke from it masked the scent of cigars. There were several young and quite pretty women serving drinks, sitting on laps, and laughing gaily. Shamus turned his attention back to the madame. \"My friend and I are looking for companionship...and price is not an issue. What would you recommend?\" He could see the look of greed creep to her eyes.\n\n\"I am sure we can find a way to accommodate two such discerning and elegant gentlemen.\" She brought them to a private room with two comfortable chairs placed against the wall with a table in between. Like the rest of the house, the walls were painted red. An impressive chandelier with electric lights hung from the ceiling. A young girl, dressed modestly and not much more than twelve, brought them drinks. Her eyes never left the ground as she put them on the table and scurried away.\n\nA few minutes later six women entered the room through a side door. The madame presented each one; there were two blondes, two brunettes, a redhead, and an exotic looking Asian. Each was wearing just enough to ensure some modesty, but dressed to display each as unique and alluring in their own way.\n\nArthur nodded approvingly. \"Madame, you present us with an impossible challenge. To chose amongst such beauty is beyond my abilities.\"\n\nThe madame was flattered by his words. \"Then, if you wish, shall I choose for you?\" He nodded. She went to the Asian woman, who was beautiful, slim, and had long black hair that fell far down her back. She took her hand and pulled her forward. \"May I suggest Ling, my Chinese pearl? She will happily attend to your every need.\"\n\nArthur had never experienced such a woman. He was intrigued. \"Yes, wonderful. She will do nicely.\" Ling gave him a coy smile, took his hand in hers, and led him from the room.\n\nWhile Arthur was engaged in choosing a woman for the evening Shamus was considering his own choice. The Chinese woman was interesting, but he was more than happy to let Arthur have her. He found two of the women especially intriguing; a blonde and a brunette standing close together. They were stunningly beautiful, possessed unsurpassed womanly curves, and seemed to have an aura about them. The madame turned to him.\n\n\"And you, good sir, have you made a decision?\"\n\nShamus waved his hand towards the two women who had captured his interest. \"The two on the right...would you have them step forward?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\" The madame motioned to them. \"Erin, Selene, please come closer.\"\n\nWhen they approached, Shamus could see his eyes had not deceived him. He felt a deep surge of lust. Despite the blonde being a bit shorter, they had similar body types and looked like they could be related. \"Are you sisters?\"\n\nThe brunette, Selene, gave him sly smile. \"Would you like us to be?\"\n\nThat brought a smile to his face; feisty, he liked that. \"It is not a requirement, but I find the idea intriguing.\"\n\n\"Of course, you do. Erin and I are...cousins, but we can be sisters tonight if you'd like.\"\n\nWhile she was talking Erin moved closer and began placed her hand on his chest. \"That sounds like fun,\" she murmured in his ear.\n\nShamus quickly made his decision. \"I would like to share the company of both these lovely ladies.\"\n\nThe madame was ecstatic. \"That would be most expensive, sir. These are my two most favored ladies. And...and they are allowed to accept or decline any invitation they might receive.\" She looked anxiously at the two women, who exchanged knowing glances.\n\nSelene had a predatory look on her face. \"We would love to entertain this handsome gentleman, isn't that right Erin?\"\n\nErin was smiling, almost grinning. \"Oh, yes. We will be sure to take good care of him.\"\n\nThe sun was just coming up when Shamus stumbled down the stairs from the bedroom where he had spent all night making love to the two most amazing women he had ever met. Arthur was asleep in a chair next to the fireplace. Shamus shook him gently. \"Arthur, wake up. We have to get going.\"\n\nArthur's eyes slowly opened and took on a confused look. Then he remembered where he was. \"Dear Lord, what time is it?\"\n\n\"Dawn, and time to return to the hotel.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes...of course.\"\n\nAfter showering and donning clean clothes, they repaired to the dining room of the hotel, where Shamus prevailed upon the staff to provide breakfast, even though dining hours were over.\n\nArthur was a little more awake than Shamus, since he had managed to get some sleep after his magical hour with Ling. \"So...two women, Shamus? All night?\"\n\nShamus looked up from his omelet with a broad smile. \"Yes, and a glorious night it was.\"\n\n\"I'm impressed, as were the ladies, no doubt.\"\n\nShamus nodded thoughtfully. \"It was strange. They seemed much more...enthusiastic, than I would have ever expected. In fact, when our allotted time had expired, they insisted I remain.\"\n\n\"Odd, indeed.\"\n\nThey sat together in companionable silence for some time, steeped in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Shamus spoke. \"I've come to a decision.\" Arthur looked expectantly at his friend, waiting to hear whatever it was Shamus had decided. \"I will not be returning home at this time. I'll be remaining in Boston. If you would be so kind, please make arrangements to enable me to manage my interests from here.\"\n\nArthur was astounded. \"Have you gone mad!\"\n\nShamus smiled. \"Perhaps. Time will tell.\"\n\n\"Please tell me this has nothing to do with, with those... those women.\" Arthur stammered.\n\n\"Oh, but it does. I feel like I have lived my life as a blind man, but now my eyes have been opened and I can see clearly.\"\n\n\"Shamus, I beg of you, please reconsider this rash action.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Arthur, but my course is set.\"\n\nRound Harbor, Maine – April, Present Day\n\nIn Maine, every working port has at least one bar that's open all year long. If it has decent food, all the better. They serve the working people who live there not just during the idyllic summer months, but during the long, harsh winter months, as well. In Round Harbor the name of that place was MacDougal's. The owner, Mary Winslow, was a heavy-set woman in her mid-forties, with careworn lines on her once-pretty face. She wore her flaming red hair pulled back in a French braid, no mean feat now that her husband was no longer there to do it for her. Her husband, a fisherman, had died at sea when his trawler sank in a storm. On this particular Friday night, she was working behind the bar. A few regulars had taken up their stations in front of her while several groups of people were sitting at the tables. For April, it was a pretty good crowd.\n\nHer \"girls\", as she liked to call them, were serving tables, stocking the beer cooler, and generally doing everything but mixing drinks. One was a lifelong resident, like Mary. Ellen Landau was a petite and pretty blonde in her early twenties. With her substantial curves and bubbly personality, she was a man magnet, something that had gotten her in trouble more than once. Her other girl was Samantha Vogel, but everyone called her Sam. The pretty brunette with a pixie cut and more than her share of tats, was athletic, almost tomboyish, with a lithe figure that attracted men and, some say, women, too. Her parents moved to Round Harbor when she was in grammar school; her dad was a fisherman. When she turned eighteen, they told her she was on her own and moved to Mississippi. She stayed. Since then, Mary had pretty much adopted her. The matriarch of MacDougal's wondered what the future held for them. She hoped it wouldn't be working here in the bar. Maybe they would meet someone special...\n\nConall O'Keefe – Round Harbor\n\nOn Saturday morning Conall rose early. He'd packed a bag the night before, so there was little to do besides shower, dress, and head out. He planned to get coffee and something to eat on the road. It was getting light as he approached Boston. Dawn on a Saturday was a good time to drive through the city; Friday night revelers were in bed and those who planned to do something with their day were just rising. North of Boston was stretch of Route One that was wall to wall strip malls, fast food places, car dealerships, and even strip clubs. He pulled into a huge MacDonald's and went inside. The greasy, but hot, Egg McMuffin, and large cup of coffee tasted better than it should have. After hitting the rest room, it was back on the road for the final leg of the trip.\n\nUnlike most state borders, you didn't need a road sign to tell you when you entered Maine; the state line was the middle of the huge Piscataqua River Bridge. Conall always felt a little different when he was in Maine. The trees seemed greener and the air a little cleaner. There were no billboards and there didn't seem to be as much garbage on the side of the road. About forty-five minutes later he drove through Portland, a beautiful old city. You got a great look at the skyline and there were plenty of water views. North of Portland the trees took over once more. In Brunswick he got off the highway and back on Route One. He kept heading north, though it was really east. Conall had read somewhere this section of Maine was called \"Down East\" because the compass setting for sailing ships going up the coast was more east than north.\n\nAs he drove through Bath, and then Wiscasset, he noticed evergreens were much more prevalent. It was too early in the year for the other trees to be leafed out. Some time later he saw the sign he was looking for; _Rte. 31 South - Round Harbor 22 miles_. The harbor was near the end of a long, rocky peninsula. There was only one main road down the center of it, which was typical this far down the coast. In fact, north of Portland there was one peninsula after the other. It was a pleasant drive down the winding, scenic road. There were old farm houses and cottages, seemingly all painted white, surrounded by broad open fields. He caught glimpses of the ocean from time to time.\n\nAt last he saw signs of the town. There was a gas station, a convenience store, and a couple of car repair shops. In a field off to his right lay a forest of boats perched on storage stands, still covered by their winter shields of white shrink-wrap. He knew he was getting close to his destination. The lawyer's office was down in the harbor, not more than a mile away. Conall looked down at his car's clock; his appointment wasn't for another half hour. He had time to take a swing down by the water.\n\nHe drove slowly along the main street. A few people were walking along the sidewalks, but there were hardly any cars parked along the side of the road. Judging by the look of it, the town had a lot of tourists during the summer season. It was quaint, but the boats tied up along the wharves looked like fishing and lobster boats; this was a working harbor, not just a place for tourists and fair-weather residents. There was a boat yard at the far end of town, confirming his notion. Conall looked at the clock again. It was 10:50...close enough.\n\nThe lawyer's office was a big house situated a block up the hill from the harbor. He walked in and saw a middle-aged woman sitting at a desk in what must have been the foyer. \"Can I help you?\" she asked pleasantly.\n\n\"I have an appointment with Mr. Raines...senior.\"\n\n\"And your name?\"\n\n\"Conall O'Keefe.\"\n\nThe woman suddenly broke into a generous smile. \"Oh! Mr. O'Keefe...yes, he's expecting you. She picked up her phone and punched a button. \"Mr. Raines, Mr. O'Keefe is here...yes, of course.\" She hung up. \"Please go right in. It's the second office on the left.\"\n\nThe door was open, so Conall walked right in. The office spacious; probably a living room originally. There was plenty of wood paneling and an ornate fireplace. On one side was a conference table with six chairs around it. The man sitting behind the desk stood when he entered and came around the desk smiling with his hand extended.\n\n\"Thank you so much for coming, Mr. O'Keefe.\" They shook hands.\n\nOliver Raines appeared to be in his fifties. With salt and pepper hair, a thin mustache, and a tweed sport coat, he very much looked like the country lawyer Conall expected. Their eyes locked for a moment; the lawyer's gaze intense.\n\n\"Sure, nice to meet you, Mr. Raines, and just Conall is fine.\"\n\n\"Of course, and please call me Oliver. Perhaps we can take a moment to sit down and get to know each other a little better?\" He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. \"Can I get you anything?\"\n\n\"Naw, I'm good,\" said Conall as he sat down.\n\nOliver folded his hands and studied the young man sitting across from him. His research said he was twenty-nine years old. He was tall, perhaps six-foot three, handsome and fit with wavy brown hair, and looked very much like the photos he had of Shamus but, more importantly, his eyes were amber. There was no mistake. \"Conall, this may surprise you, but our families have a longstanding connection.\"\n\n\"Oh, how is that?\"\n\n\"Our great-great-grandfathers, Shamus O'Keefe and Arthur Raines, were best friends. Arthur was also Shamus' lawyer and the executor of his will.\"\n\n\"Interesting,\" replied Conall, wondering where this was going.\n\n\"In the absence of a suitable heir, the O'Keefe fortune was put into trust. However, the will also stipulated a search for an heir would continue.\"\n\nConall's heart skipped a beat. Ever since he'd first spoken with Oliver, he'd fantasized this was about inheriting a long-lost fortune. It still didn't seem possible. \"How long ago did he pass?\"\n\n\"Almost a hundred years ago, during the summer of 1926.\"\n\n\"A hundred years?\"\n\n\"Quite so, and my family has managed the trust and the property ever since.\"\n\n\"The property?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, that is perhaps the most unusual asset of the Trust.\"\n\n\"So where is this property?\n\nOliver gave him a crooked smile. \"Just outside of town on Little Round Island. There's a mansion on the island called Castletown Manor...quite spectacular, really. Shamus commissioned it in 1919 and construction was completed in early 1922. The Trust has maintained it all these years. In fact, it's quite famous around here.\"\n\n\"Who lives there?\"\n\n\"Oh, no one.\"\n\n\"You maintain an empty house?\"\n\n\"Well, yes. The house is an important part of the legacy.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\nOliver paused for a moment. This was not how he had planned to proceed. \"If you don't mind, I'd prefer not to get ahead of ourselves, Conall. Just to be clear, if you are who I think you are, I'll be satisfied you are the sole beneficiary of the O'Keefe estate.\"\n\nConall swallowed hard. \"What does that mean?\"\n\n\"Once you have fulfilled the terms of the will, you'll inherit everything. That includes Little Round Island, the manor, and the substantial investments held by the Trust. Congratulations, my boy...you're going to be rich.\"\n\nConall suddenly realized his mouth was agape. \"You're kidding me...\" he gasped quietly.\n\nOliver gave him a big smile. \"Certainly not. I don't mean to be discourteous, but may I see your driver's license? It's just a formality. Then we can discuss the will in more detail and move forward drafting the necessary legal documents.\"\n\nWhen Conall finally left Oliver's office, his head was spinning. It turned out Castletown Manor could only be reached by a causeway which was underwater at high tide. How bizarre was that? Also, there were some really strange stipulations in the will. One provided for two women to live the rest of their lives at Castletown Manor. Their relationship to Shamus was unclear. Another was the heir had to live at the old manor for a period of one year before he could fully inherit; annoying, but doable. The strangest thing of all was the requirement only an O'Keefe male could inherit...and only one with amber eyes. He realized that was the reason Oliver had stared at him so closely when they first met. It had been a hell of a day, so far, and he was starving. Oliver suggested he get something to eat at a place called MacDougal's. They agreed to pick things up on Monday. It looked like he would be staying in town for a while.\n\nMacDougal's was only a few blocks away from the lawyer's office, so he decided to walk. The aptly named Harbor Street followed the town's waterfront. On one side were shops and businesses of various types. Almost all of them appeared to be closed. On the other side of the street were docks, wharves, and a few hotels. Some of the buildings were well maintained, while others were falling into neglect. The damp smell of salt, seaweed, and mud hung heavy in the air. He soon spotted the MacDougal's sign hanging over a door in an old clapboard covered building at the head of the town wharf. The wooden sign was attractively carved and painted, but appeared worn, even battered. The salt air could be very unforgiving.\n\nOnce inside, he took a moment to survey the place. It was much like he expected; there were plenty of bars like it on the Cape. The floors were made up of wooden planks, uneven and worn deeply near the door and in front of the bar. There were a number of tables with obvious scars from age and heavy use. He noticed the legs had matchbooks and napkins wedged under them, no doubt in a vain attempt to stop them from wobbling. It was definitely a \"seat yourself\" kind of place. He saw a table alongside the sole window and sat down.\n\nWhile Conall had been deciding where to sit, Ellen and Sam had been watching him with great interest. Ellen leaned into Sam and whispered, \"You think he's alone?\"\n\n\"I'd say so,\" replied Sam quietly.\n\n\"I call dibs on him.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"It's been a long winter. He's the hunkiest guy to walk in the door since last fall.\"\n\nSam rolled her eyes. \"You're such a slut.\"\n\n\"Am not!\" Ellen complained, then added with a guilty grin, \"At least mostly not. But, hey, don't worry...maybe he has a sister.\" Sam stuck her tongue out, made a face, and went back behind the bar. Ellen pulled an order pad from her apron and went over to Conall's table where he was studying the menu. \"Hi, there,\" she chirped. \"See anything you like?\"\n\nWhen Conall looked up he saw a beautiful and very attractive young woman. \"Oh, well, I guess I do.\" He gave her a bright smile and saw her blush a little.\n\n\"Great. What'll it be?\"\n\n\"Is the haddock fresh?\"\n\n\"Absolutely. They're landed right here in the harbor, so it doesn't get fresher than that.\"\n\n\"Perfect. I'll have the fried haddock sandwich with extra tartar sauce.\"\n\n\"Lettuce and tomato?\"\n\n\"Yes, please.\"\n\n\"Fries or coleslaw?\"\n\n\"Fries.\"\n\nEllen was nodding as she took down his order. Conall took the opportunity to check out his comely waitress. She was something special. When she looked back up at him, he quickly averted his eyes, but was pretty sure she realized what he was doing. Her big smile seemed to indicate she didn't mind. \"And to drink?\" she asked cheerfully.\n\n\"Anything good on tap?\"\n\n\"Everyone seems to like Allagash White. It's a Belgian wheat beer. Would you like one?\"\n\n\"Sure, that would be great.\"\n\nAs she walked away to place his order, he was mesmerized by her cute butt swaying back and forth. He had to shake his head to break the spell.\n\nWhen Ellen got up to the kitchen pass-through, she slid the order across and called to the cook. \"Burt, order in!\" Then she went to the wait station at the bar. \"Allagash White, draft.\"\n\nSam grabbed a chilled pint glass and pulled back on the tap. \"He was totally checking your ass out.\"\n\nEllen smiled, clearly pleased with herself. \"Of course, he was. If he's not just driving through, I might consider giving him a much better view later.\"\n\n\"You really are a slut,\" Sam teased as she placed the beer on the bar. Ellen stuck her tongue out, turned, then sauntered back to deliver the drink to her new favorite customer.\n\nWhen Conall finished lunch there was barely a crumb left on his plate. Ellen came over and cleared the table. \"Can I get you anything else?\" she asked sweetly.\n\n\"Maybe another beer? It was really good. What was it? Allagash?\"\n\n\"Yes. Allagash White.\"\n\n\"Oh, and maybe you can help me out. I'm going to be in town for a few days, at least. Can you recommend a hotel? It looks like a lot of them are closed.\"\n\nEllen's eyes lit up immediately. \"Sure, sure. The Bentley Inn opened up last week. It's right on the water and you can get spring rates. It's three blocks down on the water side.\"\n\n\"That sounds great. Thanks.\"\n\n\"You're welcome.\" Ellen paused for a moment and bit her bottom lip. \"I'm Ellen. What's your name?\" She saw a brief glimmer of surprise, then a pleased smile.\n\n\"Conall.\"\n\nShe stuck out her hand and they shook. \"Nice to meet you.\"\n\n\"You, too, Ellen.\"\n\n\"Are you in town by yourself?\"\n\n\"I am.\"\n\nShe chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. \"Then, if you have nothing else planned, why don't you come back later for something to eat or a drink. Tonight's my night off. Maybe we could hang out.\"\n\n\"I just might. You seem really good at drumming up business for your employer. I hope they appreciate that,\" he teased.\n\nEllen giggled. \"Yeah, I get a bonus for every hot guy I drag in here.\" She saw him quirk a smile and she blushed.\n\nConall chuckled. She was adorable. \"Well, you're doing a great job. I'd be happy to help you earn your bonus.\"\n\nRelieved he had allowed her to gracefully remove her foot from her mouth, she just batted her eyelashes, \"Super. I'll be right back with your beer.\"\n\nAfter lunch he checked into the Bentley Inn. It was a modest place with the added benefits of free parking and being a two-minute walk to MacDougal's. His room was on the second floor. He unlocked the door and threw his bag down on the queen-sized bed. It was a nice room with a sliding glass door that opened to a narrow deck. He stepped out onto it and realized he had hundred-dollar room with a million-dollar view. The harbor was a beautiful sight. The working boats, the wharves, sailboats rocking gently on their moorings...picturesque did not begin to describe it.\n\nThere were two chairs on the deck. He sat down in one and sighed. It had been an amazing day; the connection to his past, the inheritance, an island manor he'd be living in soon, and what sounded like a date with a beautiful and sexy local girl. Raj was going to freak out when he told him.\n\nConall was so exhausted from the trip, and everything else, he ended up lying down and falling asleep. He awoke later with a start; it was dark. He picked up his phone and saw it was almost seven o'clock. Damn. He got up, splashed some water on his face and headed out to MacDougal's.\n\nAs soon as he entered the place, he saw Ellen sitting on a stool and talking to the woman tending bar. Then he saw the bartender say something and cock her head in his direction. Ellen turned toward him; her expression immediately brightened. He walked up to her. \"Hey.\"\n\n\"Hey yourself, big guy,\" she replied, then placed a hand on his chest. \"I thought you were going to cost me my bonus.\"\n\nThe feel of her hand gave him a little thrill. \"Well, here I am.\"\n\nShe smiled. \"Oh,\" she said, glancing at the bartender, a very attractive brunette, \"this is my roommate, Sam.\"\n\nHe nodded to her. \"Hi Sam.\"\n\n\"Hi,\" she replied with a mischievous smile. \"And you're Conall. Nice to meet you. I guess you made quite an impression on my girl here.\"\n\n\"Sam!\" Ellen hissed, and leaned forward to swat her.\n\nSam started laughing, easily dodging her roommate's swinging arm. \"Yeah, he's totally hot.\"\n\nConall saw Ellen's face burning. \"I'm flattered and want to thank you for being so nice to someone new in town. It's been a long day and I've really looked forward to having someone to hang out with.\"\n\nEllen seemed to relax. \"That's so sweet, Conall. Why don't we get a table where we can be away from... _annoying people_?\" She glared at Sam as she said the last two words.\n\nThey sat together at the same table he had lunch at. He ordered two Allagash Whites and grabbed the menu. \"Have you eaten?\"\n\nEllen nodded. \"I had something earlier.\" She looked down. \"I guess I wasn't sure you were going to show up.\"\n\n\"Oh...\" he replied a little guiltily. \"Do you mind if I get something? I'm pretty hungry.\"\n\n\"Of course not. What would you like?\" She recommended the \"Fisherman's Platter\", so he ordered it and then settled back in his chair.\n\nHe looked around the room taking in everything. \"Tell me, who is the guy with the rubber boots at the bar?\"\n\nEllen looked over at a man in his forties wearing a baseball cap and a flannel shirt. \"That's Ernie Whitcomb. He ties up near the co-op. And by the way, don't get too close; he stinks of fish.\"\n\n\"Good to know. And the guy next to him?\"\n\n\"Ralph Hendricks, Ernie's stern man. The guy's a little whacky and is missing more teeth and fingers than he should be.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Oh, yeah.\"\n\nConall could see into the kitchen from where he was sitting. A burly, dark-skinned man placed a plate of food on the pass-though and yelled, \"Order up!\"\n\nHe turned to Ellen. \"I heard you call the cook 'Burt'. That sounds like a Maine name, but...\"\n\nShe didn't turn around. \"Yeah, his real name is Berto Gomez. He moved here with his wife, Maria, and their three kids about five years ago. He's an awesome guy and a great cook.\"\n\nConall's \"Fisherman's Platter\", a giant plate of an assorted fried seafood, was more than he could eat, so he convinced Ellen to help pick at it. As they settled into their second beer he asked Ellen where she was from. She chuckled before answering.\n\n\"Here,\" she replied. \"Born and raised. My family has lived here for generations.\"\n\n\"Seems to be a lot of that going around.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Yeah. What about you?\"\n\n\"I live on the Cape, but my family has lived in New England for over a hundred years, I guess. In fact, I just found out today I'm related to a guy who lived here a long time ago.\"\n\n\"Really?\" said Ellen, perking up.\n\n\"Yeah, a guy named Shamus O'Keefe. I guess he owned a house on Little Round Island.\" He saw Ellen's eyes go wide and her jaw slowly drop. \"What? What did I say?\" said Conall, mystified by her reaction.\n\n\"You, you're related to Shamus O'Keefe?\" she stammered.\n\n\"Uh...yeah, that's what I'm told.\" he replied.\n\n\"Holy crap!\"\n\n\"What?\" replied Conall, a little alarmed. \"Is there something I should know about this guy?\"\n\n\"He's kind of a local legend around here.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\nEllen tipped her head to one side. \"You don't know?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"Nope. Not really.\"\n\n\"He was this local guy who got mega-rich in the 1920's, built that creepy old mansion on Little Round island, and then shacked up with two gorgeous women. Legend has it the parties out there were epic.\"\n\n\"Wow. The lawyer didn't paint the picture quite like that.\"\n\n\"Lawyer?\"\n\n\"Yes. Maybe you know him...Oliver Raines.\"\n\n\"Junior of senior?\"\n\n\"Senior.\"\n\n\"How did you run into him?\"\n\n\"He's in charge of the O'Keefe trust. Looks like I might be living in that old house for a while.\"\n\nEllen was speechless for a moment, then gasped, \"No...f-ing...way!\"\n\n\"Uh...way,\" he chuckled. Then Ellen let out an excited, strangled squeal.\n\nShamus O'Keefe – Boston, May, 1919\n\nHis lavish, four-story town house in the Beacon Hill area of Boston stood at the edge of Louisville Square. This is where the city's elite lived...and Shamus O'Keefe was definitely a member of that elite. It was no coincidence the Massachusetts State House was only blocks away. Since his fateful trip to Boston some five years before, his business empire had flourished as he knew it would. The \"Great War\" had put the economy in overdrive, but now it was over.\n\nHis home was far from lonely. After Arthur departed for Round Harbor, Shamus returned to the house where he had met Erin and Selene. Against everything that polite society expected, nay, demanded, he courted them. With a promise to cherish and support them, they gladly abandoned the life of a courtesan for a life among the rich and powerful. It was scandalous, but wealth has of way of bending the rules of what is acceptable and what is not.\n\nThe two beautiful women held court at their mansion, throwing extravagant parties and entertaining the younger and more adventurous members of high society. Shamus had never gotten over his desire for them and, over the years, it had blossomed into love. Erin and Selene returned his feelings in kind and took to calling him their \"amber-eyed lover\".\n\nErin was the softer, sweeter of the two, yet her passion was just as great as Selene's. As for her taller, dark-haired \"cousin\", she was wicked and sly, but equally devoted to Erin and Shamus. It turned out they were not really cousins, as far as they knew. It was just a game they liked to play.\n\nOne day Shamus came to the breakfast table looking pensive. Erin and Selene were already eating. Their cook, a middle-aged, matronly woman named Sally, brought him a cup of coffee. Shamus nodded to the woman. \"Thank you, Sally.\" She gave him a little smile and disappeared back into the kitchen.\n\nSelene studied him for a moment. \"What's going on in that head of yours, Shamus? What are you up to?\"\n\nHe gave up a guilty grin. \"There's no fooling you, is there, Selene?\"\n\n\"Certainly not. Tell me immediately, or Erin and I will torture you until you do.\"\n\nShamus laughed. \"As you well know, that's hardly a threat. It sounds more like a reward.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" she replied smugly, \"but we could certainly have fun doing it.\"\n\n\"There's something I've been contemplating for a while.\"\n\n\"And what might that be, darling?\" asked Erin.\n\n\"I own a small island off the Maine coast. I was thinking of building a grand house on it; a place we could go in the summer where the air is clean and breezes cool. It would be very private, somewhere we could be ourselves.\"\n\n\"I like the sound of this,\" said Selene. \"I get kind of sick of these Boston biddies looking down their noses at us.\"\n\nShamus turned to Erin. \"And you, my dear?\"\n\n\"It sounds lovely, Shamus, but being with you is all I really care about.\"\n\nSelene rolled her eyes dramatically. \" _Really_ , Erin? Whatever happened to my harlot cousin?\"\n\n\"Oh, she's still here, right Shamus?\" she grinned.\n\n\"Indeed, my sweet.\" He went over and kissed the top of her head. \"Then it's settled. I'll call Arthur to set the project in motion. When I have some drawings from the architects, we can review them together. Would you like that?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Selene, excitedly. \"I think I may have some ideas for the bedrooms.\" Erin nodded her head enthusiastically in agreement.\n\n\"Very well, ladies. I'll look forward to that.\"\n\nConall O'Keefe - Little Round Island\n\nWhen he awoke on Sunday morning the sun was already shining brightly. The events of the prior day came streaming back through a haze. Had it really happened or was it all just a lingering dream? He remembered a pleasant evening with a beautiful blonde. He smiled to himself. Yes, that happened. Ellen seemed to be quite enamored of him...and very handsy. He was pretty sure she would have gladly shared his bed last night, but he'd been exhausted. All was not lost; they'd exchanged phone numbers. She'd been very excited about seeing the old mansion, but he wanted to take his first tour alone. Besides, she had to work today. She made sure he knew her day off was Monday.\n\nHe got up and prepared himself for the day. The hotel had a complimentary breakfast, so he trundled down the stairs to check it out. They had coffee, of course, and he went right for it. The food was meager; some muffins, a few donuts, bananas, and cold cereal. He grabbed a blueberry muffin, a banana, his coffee, and went back to his room.\n\nConall went out on his deck to drink his coffee and munch on the muffin. The warm spring sun felt good on his face. Looking down at the water it was obvious the tide was neither high nor low, but he couldn't tell if it was coming in or going out. This was something he'd have to start keeping track of. He used his phone to bring up a local tide chart. It was coming in; high tide would be just after noon. When Oliver gave him the keys to the manor, he said the causeway was usually impassable for about two hours around high tide, depending on the time of month. He did the math in his head. There was time to pick up something for lunch, cross over to the island, and have the causeway open back up by midafternoon. Perfect.\n\nThe man at the inn's front desk told him he could buy groceries at \"the IGA\", which turned out to be a co-op for small grocery stores. When he got there, he could see it was pretty much what he imagined it would be; the aisles were narrow and the shopping carts small. Every available space seemed to be crammed with items. As he walked through the store, he realized it had pretty much anything you might want...unless you were looking for ethnic foods. He got two bottles of water, some granola bars, and a pre-made sandwich that looked like it didn't need to be refrigerated.\n\nThe cashier at the register was an older woman with a sturdy build and white hair wound into tight curls. She was wearing a red apron with a name tag that said \"Lottie\". He put his items down on the conveyor belt and she began ringing them up.\n\n\"Did you find everything you were looking for, young man?\"\n\nThe woman made him smile with her kindly, cheerful voice. She reminded him of his grandmother. \"Uh, yes ma'am.\"\n\n\"Oh, you can call me Lottie. Everyone does.\"\n\n\"Okay, Lottie. Thanks.\" Conall was again beginning to wonder if he hadn't slipped into some sort of alternate dimension; people were amazingly friendly. It was a far cry from the people he was used to running into on the Cape.\n\n\"And what's your name?\" she continued. \"I haven't seen you around before.\"\n\n\"It's Conall,\" he replied.\n\n\"Well, you have yourself a nice day, Conall. I hope to see you again real soon.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Lottie,\" he replied. When Conall got back in his car he just sat there for a moment, reflecting briefly on yet another unexpected, yet pleasant, encounter in this very interesting little town.\n\nFifteen minutes later he was headed down a narrow road leading to the water. He wasn't surprised to find it was called Little Round Island Road. At the end it broadened into a gravel parking area...and then he saw it. The island rose steeply from the water and was thickly covered by tall trees, mostly evergreen. Large flat slabs of granite had been laid from the parking area down to the water, where the causeway began and extended a hundred yards to the shore of the island. The causeway was flanked on either side by large blocks of granite. In between, to his surprise, it was paved. The water was about a foot below the road, so he knew it was now or never. He eased his car down the ramp, drove carefully across the causeway, and was soon climbing the bank on the other side.\n\nHis pulse quickened as he navigated the narrow, winding road he knew would lead him to Castletown Manor. He imagined all the times Shamus must have driven this way a hundred years ago and wondered how much it had changed. The road kept going uphill until the trees encroaching on the road gave way to a broad meadow. And there, standing majestically on the crest of the hill, was Castletown Manor. Three stories tall, it had two turrets, with a wide, covered porch that wrapped around the building. There were gabled lookouts with views in every direction. He could see there was a massive chimney. It was built almost entirely of stone and brick formed in intricate designs. The roof was covered by slate shingles.\n\nHe parked in front and got out of his car, taking a moment to survey what his eyes could barely believe. This was his new home? Was this really possible? He fished the keys out of his pocket and climbed up the wide stairway to the porch. He stood before a massive wooden door with a huge brass knocker in the shape of what looked like a mermaid, or was it a siren? He inserted the key marked \"front door\" in the lock and turned it apprehensively. Sure enough, he heard the bolt slide back. Conall pushed the door open and beheld a large foyer leading to a grand staircase which then rose to a mezzanine overlooking the central room on the first floor. There was floor to ceiling wood paneling like you might see in some English manor. The banisters were also ornately carved. Even so, it wasn't just a copy of an old English manor; many of the accents were Art Deco, a popular style during the 1920's. Expensive-looking carpets covered the floors. There was furniture, but it was all covered by sheets. He was pleased to see the house appeared to be in excellent condition despite the fact no one had lived in it for many decades. Oliver had apparently taken his responsibilities seriously when it came to preserving the legacy. Conall would have to thank him for that.\n\nFor the next hour he went from room to room, exploring the house and wondering at the opulence of his ancestor's lifestyle. He was also glad to discover it had electricity. While it could certainly benefit from updating, he wouldn't have to light the place with candles and hurricane lamps. He noticed there were old-style steam radiators in the house, so there was central heat. \"Thanks, Shamus,\" he said under his breath.\n\nStill reeling from his tour of the house, Conall wandered outside. It was a beautiful spring day and the breeze off the ocean was invigorating. The manor was perched at the top of a cliff with bold views of the open ocean. He breathed in the cool, salty air and let it out slowly. It made him hungry. He went back to the car, got his sandwich and water, and went out to the edge of the cliff where there were several granite blocks arranged in a semi-circle. When he got closer, he saw there was a fireplace in the center; the hardscape was for sitting and entertaining. Perfect.\n\nHe sat on one of the blocks, which had already been warmed by the sun; it was more comfortable than he thought it would be. Conall looked out over the water and saw whitecaps, but they weren't angry ones. He could see lobster buoys and even a few boats off in the distance. It was beautiful...peaceful. After finishing his sandwich, he looked around. At the edge of the meadow stood a small building that appeared to be made out of stone. He made his way over to it and, as he got closer, realized it was a mausoleum. There was little doubt in his mind as to who the occupant might be. Sure enough, his name was emblazoned over the door; _Shamus Patrick O'Keefe, born September 9, 1885, died July 25, 1926_. Conall stilled, contemplating all the days and years that had intervened between then and now. Below that was inscribed two more names. It said \" _Erin and Selene, beloved of Shamus – Together Forever\"_.\n\nConall suddenly understood. These were the two women mentioned in the will; it made him smile. It seemed like great-great grandpa was quite the lady's man. He suddenly felt a chill go down his spine and a fluttering in his stomach. He shook his head. Strange. It wasn't like him to get emotional about some long-lost relative and his girlfriends.\n\nHis attention was then drawn to an area surrounded by a low rock wall. It was less than a hundred feet away; he went over to investigate. In the center was a single oak tree rising high above. The majestic tree, still bare of leaves, was surrounded by several headstones. He walked up to one and read the inscription: _Here Lies Rex – Faithful unto Death_. Interesting. The next said, _Scout – Always Loyal_. The third said, _Scout 2 – Always Loyal_. There was little doubt...this was a pet cemetery. Interesting.\n\nFor the next hour Conall explored the rest of the island. While the center was densely wooded, the perimeter was solid rock. It allowed him to circle the island without having to push through the underbrush. For the most part the rock plunged steeply to the sea, but on the back end of the island there was a small sandy beach. At the end nearest the causeway was a stone wharf in poor repair. No doubt it was used to access the island in spite of whatever the tide was. He was able to clamber down and inspect the beach, finding a circle of rocks with charred logs in the center. The empty beer cans and even some clothes strewn about made it clear the locals had staked this out as a party place. It bothered him this little slice of his fantasy world had been violated, but he could also see himself as being one of the teenage revelers.\n\nBy the time he got back to the manor he knew the tide was receding; he could probably leave the island. Conall locked up the house. He'd seen enough for one day and had a lot to think about. As he drove down the hill towards the causeway, he was already thinking of questions to ask Oliver in the morning. A lot would need to be done before moving into the manor.\n\nWhen he pulled into the parking lot of the Bentley Inn it was late afternoon. He went up to his room and found the pad of paper that all hotels seem to leave in the room for people. As he began to jot his thoughts down another thought occurred to him; he should probably call Raj. He picked up his phone and said, \"Call Raj.\"\n\n\"Calling Raj, mobile,\" replied Siri.\n\nIt only rang twice before his friend picked up. \"Dude! What's up?\"\n\n\"A lot,\" Conall chuckled.\n\n\"You hook up with some hottie...I hope? Want to get together for a beer?\"\n\n\"Uh, might be difficult. I'm at a hotel in Round Harbor, Maine.\"\n\n\"You get kidnapped?\"\n\n\"No, way weirder than that.\"\n\nFor a moment there was silence on the line. \"Um, you're scaring me here, Conall. What's going on?\"\n\nConall proceeded to tell him the story, starting with the mysterious call from the lawyer to his visit to Little Round Island. He left out the part about Ellen since he knew his friend would torment him mercilessly over his decision to go home and sleep instead bringing her back to his room.\n\nRaj was understandably amazed. \"Damn! Are you telling me I have a rich friend?\"\n\nConall laughed. \"Yeah, I guess so.\"\n\n\"That is so awesome! I've never had a rich friend. Can I borrow some money?\"\n\n\"Hey, I haven't seen a dime, so maybe this is some kind of crazy scam, but since I'm broke, I can't see how that would work.\"\n\n\"Yeah, makes sense. Well, keep me in the loop on all this.\"\n\n\"Sure. By the way, I'm not coming back to work this week. I'll call my boss in the morning. Looks like you're going to have to carry the ball on the Dr. Marty article.\"\n\n\"Sure, no problem.\"\n\nBy the time Conall hung up it was starting to get dark and he was starting to get hungry. His dinner choices included another trip to the IGA, the sketchy dining room in the inn, or a trip to MacDougal's. It was an easy choice.\n\nAs he entered MacDougal's he noticed it was almost deserted. He ambled over to bar and took a seat at one of the tall stools. Erin's dark-haired friend was tending bar again.\n\n\"Hey, Conall, if you're looking for blondie, she's not here.\"\n\n\"Sam. Right?\" he replied. She nodded. \"I'm just here to get a beer and something to eat.\"\n\n\"Looks like you're becoming quite the regular.\"\n\nHe gave her a look. \"Does two days in a row make me a regular?\"\n\n\"Well, we're not ready to get a brass plaque for the back of the chair, yet, but we'll see how it goes. So, what would you like to eat? What did you have yesterday?\"\n\n\"A Fisherman's Platter.\"\n\n\"In the mood to try something different today?\" she said, leaning forward and slightly arching an eyebrow.\n\nConall caught a glimpse of her cleavage and heard the suggestive tone of her voice. \"You're Ellen's roommate, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Yes. Is that a problem?\"\n\nHe immediately wanted to change the subject. \"Any specials today?\"\n\nShe gave him a sly smile, obviously enjoying making him uncomfortable. \"Yeah, we have T-bone steaks. You look like a man who enjoys a nice piece of meat.\"\n\nConall started laughing. \"You're an evil woman. I think I like you.\"\n\nSam broke into a grin. \"So...steak then?\"\n\n\"Sure, sounds good.\"\n\nAll through dinner they bantered and flirted back and forth. He found her attractive in a very different way than Ellen. While Ellen was sweet and wide-eyed, Sam was edgy and self-confident. With them being roommates, he would definitely have to watch his step.\n\nWhen he finished his second beer, he bid Sam goodnight and headed back to the inn. He wanted to be fresh for his meeting with Oliver in the morning.\n\nShamus O'Keefe – Little Round Island, July, 1922\n\nCastletown Manor was completed in early spring. By late May, Shamus, Selene, and Erin had moved in. While Shamus had made several trips north to supervise and inspect the work, this was the first time the women had seen it...and they were thrilled.\n\n\"Oh, Shamus,\" gushed Erin, \"It's so beautiful. I love it. I never want to leave!\"\n\n\"I'm so glad you're pleased, my love,\" replied Shamus proudly.\n\nSelene was more restrained. \"It's wonderful, Shamus...a real home for the three of us. Thank you.\"\n\nHe knew she was just as pleased, if not more so, than Erin. He nodded and let his eyes convey his response. She returned a grateful smile.\n\nThe height of summer brought forth flowers in the gardens as well as guests travelling from near and far. Prohibition and the puritanical morays of the post-war years was little in evidence at Castletown Manor. The wharf by the beach allowed easy access for boats sailing down from Canada with shipments of fine wines and Canadian whisky as well as for friends sailing up from Boston. In a strange legal twist, prohibition allowed citizens to consume alcohol, but not buy, sell, produce, or transport it. The folly of the \"grand experiment\" would not be fully appreciated until many years later. As always, the enforcement of laws applied to the poor, not the rich.\n\nAnd so, the gay parties they had enjoyed in Boston continued at the manor, only on a grander scale. Many of their friends would visit as fugitives from the summer heat in the canyons of brick and stone that was Boston.\n\nThe summer respite was also an opportunity for Shamus to go riding on his horse, Rex. They had a golden retriever named Scout who was able to roam the island as his own domain, often accompanying Shamus and Rex on their rides. Arthur would often visit, since he continued to live in Round Harbor. Erin and Selene were very fond of him, but would often tease and flirt with him, knowing how flustered he would become. Shamus just found it amusing. It was during one of these visits he pulled his friend aside.\n\n\"Arthur, I'd like you to join me in my study. I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you.\"\n\nArthur recognized the look. With a feeling of apprehension, he followed Shamus to his study. Three hours and two cognacs later Arthur emerged from the study with sheaves of documents and copious notes in hand. Shamus had directed him to prepare his last will and testament. Arthur was grateful his friend was finally moving forward with it; he'd been pestering Shamus for over a year to take care of the matter. However, Shamus had several very unusual requests that would take serious thought before committing them to paper. Ensuring there would be no challenge to the will would be a daunting task.\n\nConall O'Keefe – The Inheritance\n\nConall rose early on Monday morning, understandably anxious about how the day would unfold. He called work just after eight o'clock and told his boss he needed to take a few days off due to a death in the family. It wasn't a lie; he simply didn't share the fact the death had occurred a hundred years ago.\n\nIt was just before nine o'clock in the morning when Conall pulled into Oliver's office parking lot. The sky was overcast, but according to the local news station, it was supposed to clear up by lunchtime. He walked up to the door and entered. The same receptionist was sitting at her desk in the foyer and greeted him with a cheerful smile.\n\n\"Good morning Mr. O'Keefe. Mr. Raines is expecting you. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?\"\n\n\"No, thank you. I'm fine.\"\n\n\"Then you can go right in.\"\n\nWhen he entered Oliver's office he rose and shook his hand. \"Good morning, Conall, please have a seat and we can get going.\"\n\n\"Sounds good.\"\n\nWhen Conall was seated Oliver sat back with a smile on his face. \"I'm assuming you went out to the island yesterday. What do you think?\"\n\nConall shook his head. \"Amazing, just amazing. It was like being transported back in time. Oh, and I wanted to thank you.\"\n\n\"For what?\"\n\n\"For keeping the place is such good shape. It couldn't have been easy.\"\n\n\"I truly appreciate that, Conall, but perhaps a nod of thanks is also in order for my father and his father before him. I can't take all the credit.\"\n\nThat really put things in perspective. \"You're right, Oliver. I can see the continuity in all this and the bond passed down through generations. It's not something I've ever experienced before.\"\n\n\"Memories are long here and the bonds that tie us together are strong. I'm glad you understand. Now tell me...do you think you can live at the manor for a year?\"\n\nConall had thought constantly about that very question. The manor was totally out-sized for a single person, but it was doable. \"Yes, I could definitely could, but I'd need a job and the place would need work to get it habitable.\"\n\n\"I see,\" replied Oliver with satisfaction. \"Then you'll be glad to hear that, until you have complied with all the provisions of the will, the O'Keefe Foundation will provide you with a generous stipend and all necessary funds to address maintenance and improvements to the property. Does this address any immediate concerns you might have?\"\n\nConall was shocked; it looked like this was really happening. \"Uh, yeah, those were the big ones.\"\n\n\"What else?\"\n\n\"The basics, I guess. Getting the electricity and water turned on...and the heat. Do they all work?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Oliver without hesitation. \"We test all of them periodically. In fact, I arranged this morning for the power to be turned on from the mainland side. All you have to do is throw the breakers in the basement and you'll have light and water. Just let the water run for ten minutes before you drink it.\"\n\n\"That's great. Thanks.\"\n\n\"As to your stipend...\" Conall looked up expectantly. Oliver leaned forward and handed him a check. \"Here is an initial check for $100,000 drawn on a local bank. I've been in contact with the manager who will personally meet with you, open the account, and ensure the funds are immediately available to you. Will that be satisfactory?\"\n\nConall was numb and found himself staring down at the check. \"Yeah, um, sure,\" he mumbled.\n\n\"Excellent. Anything else before we continue? There are some documents to sign.\"\n\nConall dragged himself back to the present. \"Yes. I've been wondering how Shamus died. He was only forty-one years old.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course. He was thrown by a horse and broke his neck.\"\n\nConall considered this for a moment. \"Was the horse's name Rex?\"\n\n\"Indeed, it was,\" smiled Oliver. \"I see you found the pet cemetery.\"\n\n\"I did. There's one other item that's been bothering me.\"\n\n\"And what would that be?\"\n\n\"The thing with the eye color. What's with that?\"\n\nOliver gave him a slight nod. \"Yes, that _is_ rather odd. Although the will doesn't record the color of Shamus' eyes, my family has passed down the story from one generation to the next; he had amber eyes. More than that, his constant companions, Erin and Selene, seemed to be excessively enamored of that trait.\"\n\n\"Strange...\"\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\n\"So, who were these women?\"\n\n\"It seems Shamus met them during a trip to Boston in search of his wife and son.\"\n\n\"Wife? Son?\"\n\n\"Yes, her name was Norah, and your great-grandfather, Patrick. She left Shamus and apparently dropped out of sight sometime before World War One. He was never able to locate her or his son.\"\n\n\"And the women?\"\n\n\"As you may have guessed by now, Shamus had a well-deserved reputation as a womanizer.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I kind of figured.\"\n\n\"Erin and Selene were rumored to have met Shamus during a visit to a Boston brothel.\"\n\n\"They were prostitutes? Are you kidding me?\"\n\n\"Not at all. The three of them lived together in Boston for a number of years before moving into Castletown Manor. By that time, it was apparent to all that Shamus was deeply in love with them and they, in turn, were devoted to him. As scandalous as it all was, people in polite society did not discuss such things openly, preferring to gossip behind closed doors. The fact that Shamus was enormously rich provided at least superficial acceptance of their relationship.\"\n\n\"Interesting. So, after Shamus died, what happened to them? I saw their names on his mausoleum.\"\n\n\"That's right. The two women lived out the rest of their short lives at Castletown Manor. They became reclusive and both, less than two years later, passed away on the very same night. It caused quite a stir in town. Some said they killed themselves, though no evidence of this was ever found. Others said they died of broken hearts. It was all very tragic.\"\n\nLess than an hour later Conall was headed to the bank with his huge check burning a hole in his pocket. Maybe this is what it felt like to win the lottery. His phone dinged; he looked down and saw it was a text from Ellen. Then he remembered MacDougal's was closed on Mondays and he'd promised to take her to the island. He'd deal with it later.\n\nThe bank manager was very helpful and seemingly anxious to please. Perhaps Oliver had mentioned something about the possibility he could become a significant customer. He left the bank with a new checking and savings account and five hundred dollars in cash. It felt good to be flush. Then he remembered he was supposed to call Ellen...it was still early.\n\nConall O'Keefe – Return to the Island\n\nShe picked up on the first ring. \"Hi, Conall!\" she squeaked excitedly.\n\n\"Hi, Ellen.\" She was so damned cute.\n\nShe wasted no time getting to the point. \"Can we go to the island today?\"\n\n\"Sure. Let's pick up something to eat and drink and then head over. We'll have to hurry if we're going to make the tide.\"\n\n\"Excellent!\" Then she paused. \"Um...can Sam come along?\"\n\nConall was surprised, but not disappointed, the sassy brunette wanted to join them. He was even more surprised Ellen was okay with it. \"Sure. No problem.\"\n\n\"She made me ask,\" Ellen added glumly. \"She said she'd shave my head while I was sleeping if I didn't get her invited.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" was all he could manage to say. It looked like his day was about to get a lot more interesting, if that was even possible.\n\nHe picked them up at their apartment, which turned out to be an old triple-decker sitting on a hill overlooking the harbor. They wasted no time zipping down to the IGA to pick up lunch and something to drink. Once again, Lottie was standing at the cash register. When she saw him with Ellen and Sam her eyes twinkled. \"Nice to see you again so soon, Conall...and I see you've made some new friends.\" She gave him a wink.\n\nThe girls both gave him a look. \"You know Lottie?\" asked Ellen skeptically.\n\n\"Of course, doesn't everybody?\" he answered with a straight face.\n\nThat got a chuckle out of Sam. \"Yeah, I guess they do.\"\n\nThe three of them hustled back to the car with their goodies, which included a six-pack of beer, and headed immediately for the causeway. They arrived just in time. The water was inches from the road surface.\n\nEllen was gleeful. \"It's even more fun when the water just covers the road!\"\n\nConall shook his head and looked in the rearview mirror just as Sam was doing a serious eye roll. \"Well, maybe another day,\" he sighed.\n\nThe weather was just clearing as they emerged from the trees and entered the meadow surrounding the manor. Ellen began squirming in her seat she was so excited. \"I can't wait, I can't wait.\"\n\n\"Chill out, girlfriend, or I'm going to have to throw a bucket of cold water on you,\" warned Sam, sounding exasperated.\n\nConall pulled up to the front door and turned off the car. \"Everybody out, the tour is about to begin.\" Ellen let out a delighted squeal. As soon as he unlocked the door Ellen shot by him and into the great room. Turning slowly to take in the wonders all around her, she gasped a long, drawn-out, \"Wowww.\"\n\nSam was more circumspect. \"Nice bachelor pad, Conall. You really gonna live here?\"\n\n\"That's the plan.\"\n\n\"You're going to need a maid,\" observed Sam.\n\n\"Or two?\" he snarked.\n\nShe gave him a lopsided grin. \"Yeah, you wish.\"\n\nEllen was oblivious to the banter, being much too absorbed gawking at everything.\n\nConall returned to the business at hand. \"Okay, like I said on the way here, getting the electricity turned on is job one. First, I've got to find the breakers.\"\n\n\"And where might they be?\" asked Sam.\n\n\"According to Oliver...the basement.\" He let the last word hang there, dramatically.\n\n\"The basement?\" gulped Ellen.\n\nSam gave her a look. \"Yeah, you know, the floor beneath the first floor? The place all the monsters hide.\" Ellen didn't respond, but gave Conall an apprehensive look. Sam just smirked.\n\n\"Come on scaredy-cat,\" he said. \"It's no big deal.\" They wandered around until they found the basement door; it was off the kitchen. Now he was kicking himself for not thinking to bring a flashlight. Then he noticed a hurricane lamp sitting on a table next to the door. A butane lighter sat next to it. It looked out of place in a room that screamed of times gone by, but he was very grateful for the small favor. The lamp had oil and looked to be in good working order. He removed the glass chimney and lit the wick. The flame bloomed and he quickly replaced the chimney...and there was light. He grinned proudly as if he had just invented fire. \"Follow me.\"\n\nConall led the way, creeping carefully down the stairs and brushing the spiderwebs aside. Ellen hunched down behind him, while Sam brought up the rear. The basement wasn't quite as primitive as Conall assumed it might be, no doubt due to the efforts of Oliver and his forebearers. He spotted a gray metal box to his left; it definitely looked like a breaker box, and not one from the 1920's...thank God. He walked up to it and handed the lamp to Ellen. \"Here, take this,\" he said. In the flickering light he could see her eyes were wild. \"Easy does it, Ellen. It's all good.\" She nodded, but remained mute.\n\nJust then Sam moved closer. \"What's that!\" she yelled.\n\nEllen shrieked and almost dropped the lamp. \"You bitch! Don't do that!\" Sam was laughing too hard to respond.\n\n\"Okay, everybody chill,\" said Conall impatiently. He popped open the door to the electrical box and examined the switches. It was fairly modern...no round fuses. At the top were two heavy-duty switches labeled \"main breaker\". Conall was no electrical expert, but this seemed like the ticket. He threw them to the right and...voila.\n\n\"Yes!\" hissed Ellen as the basement was flooded with light.\n\nWhen they got back upstairs Conall went over to the kitchen sink and opened the taps. There were some rumblings and gurgling, but water was soon pouring out of the tap. At first it was murky and smelled a bit off, but it soon ran clear; another small step in bringing Castletown Manor back to life...and it felt good.\n\nThey went back outside and were pleased to see the sun was now shining brightly. \"Hey,\" said Conall, \"what say we grab the sandwiches and eat lunch out by the cliff?\"\n\n\"I could eat,\" agreed Sam.\n\nEllen nodded. \"Sounds good.\"\n\nThey got the food from the car and went out to the sitting rocks, then tore open their sandwiches and cracked a beer. Ellen looked at the fire pit in the middle. \"Totally great party place,\" she said while munching on her sandwich.\n\nHe studied her for a moment and instinctively knew this was not the first time she had been on the island. \"Partied here before?\" He saw the guilty look on her face. \"It's okay, Ellen,\" he reassured her.\n\n\"Well, yeah. Growing up everybody would sneak onto the island to party.\"\n\n\"On the beach by the old wharf?\"\n\n\"You know about that?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he grinned. \"Ever lose any clothes?\"\n\nShe laughed and scrunched up her face. \"Maybe a pair of panties?\"\n\n\"You bad girl,\" said Sam in mock dismay. \"Why didn't I get invited?\"\n\n\"You were the new girl,\" she replied defensively.\n\n\"New girl? I moved here in the second grade!\" Sam was suddenly fuming. Ellen looked the other way and didn't respond.\n\nConall decided this might be a good time to shift the conversation. \"How about we go check out the mausoleum after lunch?\"\n\n\"Yeah, sure, I'd love to,\" Ellen replied, grateful for any opportunity to divert discussion about the party beach.\n\n\"What mausoleum?\" asked Sam, her curiosity piqued.\n\n\"It's where my ancestor, Shamus, is buried, along with his two girlfriends, or lovers, or whatever.\"\n\nSam gave him a puzzled look. \"Girlfriends? As in plural?\"\n\n\"Apparently so.\"\n\n\"I've got to see this.\"\n\nAfter lunch they headed over to the mausoleum. Sam was fascinated. \"This is so romantic... and a hundred years ago? That must have been unheard of.\" Ellen seemed lost in thought, twirling her long blonde hair with her fingers.\n\nOnce again, Conall had that strange feeling, like the first time he was here. He noticed both Sam and Ellen had faraway looks in their eyes. It was a moment they all seemed to silently share. Conall finally broke the spell. \"Um, would you mind if we head back to the house? I need to figure out what I have to do if I'm going to live here.\"\n\nSam blinked and shook her head. \"Sure, Conall, no problem.\"\n\nWhen they got back to the manor, Conall walked around making notes. He told the girls to go ahead and explore the house and grounds. Part of his process was to decide which rooms he was going to use and which to leave alone, at least for now. The place was really dusty, so a deep cleaning was in order, especially in the kitchen. A new refrigerator and stove were also on his list of priority items. Then there was the matter of picking out where he was going to sleep. He went upstairs and peeked into several of the bedrooms. The first two were nice, but the third one was amazing. In the center of the room was an enormous canopied bed. The posts were elaborately carved...pretty cool, he thought. All the furniture was antique and probably original. There was an attached and luxuriously appointed bathroom. The tile and fixtures were Art Deco. Nice. There was no doubt which bedroom he'd be using.\n\nAs he emerged from the bathroom Ellen and Sam were just coming in. He saw their eyes gravitate to the giant bed. \"Looks like plenty of room for company,\" Ellen tittered.\n\nSam went over and sat on the edge of the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. \"If only this bed could talk,\" she mused.\n\nConall had to admit he'd been thinking pretty much the same things but now, with two beautiful women in the room, he suddenly felt a bit unsettled. They gave him, and then each other, uneasy glances. There was a subtle tension in the room. Once more, Conall found way to gently redirect them.\n\n\"Let's go out, sit on the porch, and have another beer.\"\n\n\"I'm in,\" said Sam, bouncing off the bed.\n\nThey spent the next hour just relaxing, sipping their beers, and enjoying the view. There was a soft quiet that surrounded the manor; you could hear the surf, the calls of birds, and the steady whisper of the wind sifting through the trees. Conall felt at peace and comfortable with his companions, even though he'd met them only two days ago. He looked over and saw both of them had their eyes closed, relaxed, with the warm sun on their faces. Somehow, it made him feel good...very good.\n\nShamus O'Keefe – Little Round Island, June, 1926\n\nIt was the fourth summer the three lovers had spent at Castletown Manor. Even though Boston was their home for most of the year, their hearts were firmly rooted on the island. It was the only place they felt totally at ease. Arthur would often visit with his wife and children, but they found themselves more and more content to simply share the magic of the island with each other. Erin and Selene would go into town from time to time, but knew the townsfolk simply tolerated them as creatures of Shamus, the town's most favorite son. It was a small price to pay for the joy he brought them. As for Shamus, he had finally found the peace he had not found with Norah. He still longed to find his son, Patrick, but knew it might never be.\n\nOn this particular afternoon, Shamus was pensive. \"What is it, my love,\" asked Erin.\n\n\"Are you happy?\" he asked simply.\n\nErin was taken aback. \"Of course. Why would you ask such a thing?\"\n\nHe didn't reply to her question, but said, \"I love you.\" He turned to Selene, who was sitting close by. \"And you?\"\n\n\"Do I need to take you upstairs and show you?\" she answered, lifting an eyebrow suggestively.\n\nShe always made him smile. \"I suppose not, but perhaps we can discuss it further when I return from my ride.\"\n\n\"We'll look forward to it,\" she replied with a sly smile, her trademark. Erin just sniggered.\n\nConall O'Keefe – Reviving the Manor\n\nAfter Conall dropped Ellen and Sam off at their apartment, he headed back to the Bentley Inn and had something to eat in their dining room. He used the alone time to reflect on another momentous day in his life. The inheritance, the money, the manor...it was overwhelming. Then there were the two women he had shared most of his day with. He found himself intensely attracted to both, which was an obvious recipe for disaster. Later on, up in his room, he organized the notes he took at the manor. Finally, he realized how tired he was and how busy the next day would be. Time to turn in, he thought to himself.\n\nConall woke up refreshed and ready to tackle the lengthy list of errands he had mapped out. There were stores and contractors to call, as well as a cleaning service. After a getting a muffin and coffee at the breakfast bar downstairs, he dug in. By noontime, he'd made good progress. The cleaning company was sending a crew out the next day. However, while buying a stove and refrigerator was no problem, getting them delivered and hooked up was going to be a lot trickier. He hoped it would come together by the end of the week, but he wasn't counting on it. The refrigerator would be less challenging than the stove, but he still needed an electrician. The stove required more steps and two sets of contractors. Fortunately, everyone seemed hungry for work after a long winter.\n\nConall referred back to his notes. Even though the kitchen had dishes, flatware, and the like, he was sure to need other items, but he wasn't sure what. What he did need were linens, towels, and various household items. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was not going to come together as quickly and easily as he had first imagined. He'd just have to be patient.\n\nBefore long, it was lunchtime and hunger drove him out of his room. He grabbed a couple of hot dogs from a street vendor near the docks, wolfed them down, and moved on to his first errand of the day. Conall hopped in his car and drove to Frank's Hardware, a quirky little place with a sign over the door that said \" _If we don't have it, you don't need it_ \". Nice. He emerged an hour later wheeling a full cart out to the parking lot. There was a large assortment of hand and power tools, flashlights, batteries, cleaning supplies, brooms, and anything else he could think of. Somehow, it all fit in the trunk of his car.\n\nBy the time he got back to the inn, it was late afternoon. He had two texts from Ellen and, unexpectedly, one from Sam; they were both working tonight. Despite his better judgement, he knew he was going to MacDougal's.\n\nWhen he walked in the door, he immediately saw them both... and they were looking back like they'd been waiting for him to appear. Sam was behind the bar and Ellen was waiting tables. Already his life was getting complicated. Where to sit? There was an open stool by the wait station. He made a beeline for it...the closest he would get to neutral territory.\n\n\"Hey, big guy, what's your pleasure?\" asked Sam with a flirty smile.\n\n\"Hey, Sam,\" he replied. \"I'm thinking a beer and a burger.\"\n\n\"Allagash?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nJust then Ellen sidled up to him. He half expected her to give Sam a dirty look, but she didn't. Ellen put her hand on his arm. \"Hi, Conall. Nice to see you,\" she cooed, then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.\n\nHe was a little surprised, but it was nice. Conall looked at Sam, who just smirked. She slid his beer across the bar. \"How do you want your burger?\"\n\n\"Medium rare.\"\n\n\"You got it.\" Sam turned to the kitchen pass-through and dropped the order slip down. \"Burt, order in!\" she yelled.\n\nSitting two seats to his right was Ernie Whitcomb, the lobsterman Ellen had told him about, and one seat further down was his buddy, Ralph. He remembered she called him a stern man, whatever that was. As he sipped his beer, Conall also remembered what she'd said about Ernie, and yes, he did stink of fish, but hey, everybody's got to make a living. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ernie looking at him. It seemed a little strange, but he was getting used to strange; it was his new normal.\n\nThen Ernie spoke. \"You the O'Keefe guy everybody's been talking about?\"\n\nHe turned to Ernie, took a swig of his beer, and placed it down on the bar. \"I don't know, how many are there?\"\n\nErnie snorted a laugh. \"Jus' one I figure.\"\n\nConall nodded. \"Yeah, then it's probably me.\"\n\nErnie stuck out his hand. \"Ernie Whitcomb,\" he declared.\n\n\"Conall O'Keefe,\" he replied, taking the man's calloused hand in his. Another friendly denizen of Round Harbor?\n\n\"Nice to make your acquaintance,\" replied the gruff fisherman.\n\n\"Likewise.\" Conall expected a conversation to ensue, but the man simply turned back to his beer. Strange. The word was becoming a mantra for him. He looked up and saw Sam grinning, clearly amused by the confused look on his face.\n\nOver the next hour or so he got his burger and fries, which he inhaled, bantered back and forth with Ellen and Sam, and had two more beers. Just as he was thinking about heading out, he felt a hand on his back and a body pressed up against him. He turned, half expecting and hoping it was Ellen, and saw a woman, maybe forty years old, with bleached blonde hair and embarrassingly dark roots. She smelled of cigarettes and beer.\n\n\"Hi thur,\" she slurred. \"You're dat new guy stay'n down at the Bentley, ain't you?\"\n\n\"Um, I guess so,\" Conall replied, trying to remain polite.\n\n\"Muh name's Sally. What's yours?\"\n\n\"Conall.\"\n\nEllen spotted his predicament. \"Sally, I think this gentleman would prefer some space.\"\n\n\"Piss off, Ellen,\" she snarled. \"I wuz just being frenly.\"\n\nThen Sam piped up. \"Sally, I can't have you bothering my customers. Don't make me cut you off again.\"\n\n\"Bitch,\" she muttered under her breath, then turned and tottered away.\n\n\"Thanks, ladies,\" said Conall, relieved he didn't have to be rude to the woman.\n\nSam shook her head. \"That's Sally Markham...works down at Maddy's Breakfast Nook on the other side of the harbor. In addition to being one of the biggest lushes in town she's also the biggest gossip. She probably wanted to get in your business more than she wanted to get in your pants.\"\n\nEllen laughed. \"You're lucky we were here to rescue you before she had you in her clutches.\"\n\n\"Then you're my heroes, or heroines, I guess,\" said Conall sarcastically. For some reason the dynamics the three of them shared seemed comfortable and without the tension he would have expected. It also felt like something had subtly changed between them.\n\nBy the time he left the bar he'd filled them in on his day and what he had planned for the next. They seemed almost as excited as he was about the manor project. It was only ten o'clock when he headed back to the inn, but he had another big day ahead of him.\n\nWednesday morning was overcast and cold. A steady damp wind was coming off the ocean. He got out to the island as soon as he could and unloaded the tools and supplies from his trunk. The cleaning crew arrived soon afterward. They were well aware of the tide issues and had planned accordingly. After explaining his priorities to the crew, they got to work. Conall wondered about the furnace, so he called Oliver and got right through.\n\n\"Hi Oliver, it's Conall.\"\n\n\"Good morning Conall. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"I was wondering about the furnace. Is it safe to fire it up?\"\n\n\"Yes, but I'd feel more comfortable if someone walked you through it. I'll send the caretaker over to help. He can also familiarize you with any quirks the old place has.\"\n\n\"That would be great! Thanks.\"\n\n\"His name is Jeff Akers. I'll call him as soon as I get off the phone.\"\n\nJeff turned out to be a short, wiry, seventy-something year-old man with a permanent, taciturn expression. As he walked Conall through the building utilities he could tell the man had a sense of pride about the place. \"Tell me, Jeff, how long have you been taking care of the property?\"\n\nThe man shifted his baseball cap back on his head and considered the question for a moment. \"Lemme see, it was a year or two after I hurt my back, so that'd make it about thirty years.\"\n\n\"Well the place is in great shape. Thanks.\"\n\nThat got a small smile out of the man. \"Well she's a grand old lady 'n deserves to be treated right.\"\n\n\"I couldn't agree more.\"\n\n\"I heard tell you'd be living here. That true?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm looking forward to it.\"\n\n\"Good. A place like this needs to be lived in.\"\n\n\"And Jeff, just because I'll be living here doesn't mean I don't need help. Are you interested?\"\n\n\"Sure, I love this place, and I think mebbe you do, too.\" Conall grinned. The old man was right.\n\nBy the end of the day he had the furnace going, mostly to test it, but also to take the chill out of the house. The cleaners had moved through the manor like a whirlwind. The entire place had been vacuumed and the kitchen, master bedroom, and bathroom were deep cleaned. They were going to return the following day to finish up. The contractors would be arriving then, as well.\n\nWhen he got back to the harbor it was dinner time, so he parked his car at the inn and walked down to MacDougal's. This time the owner, Mary, was behind the bar and Ellen was waiting tables. He sat at one of the small tables and Ellen came right over.\n\n\"Well, if it isn't the lord of the manor. How was your day?\" she said mockingly.\n\nHe gave her a smile. \"I got the furnace running.\"\n\n\"Good for you. So, did you come in just to see me or did you want something else?\" she teased.\n\n\"Right now, a beer sounds really good. Then I'll check out the menu.\"\n\n\"The usual?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" As Ellen turned to place his order, he noticed her pull out her phone and start texting.\n\nFifteen minutes later he was savoring his beer and perusing the menu when Sam came sauntering in the door. She walked right up to him.\n\n\"Mind if I join you?\" she asked as she pulled out a chair and sat down.\n\nHe arched an eyebrow. \"Certainly not.\" He saw a sly look on her face. \"Have you eaten?\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"How about I buy you dinner?\"\n\n\"That sounds like a great idea. I'd love that.\" She picked up the menu, gave it a quick glance, and put it back down.\n\n\"I guess you already know what you want.\"\n\n\"Oh, I certainly do.\"\n\nThe way she said it made him glance over at Ellen, who was standing by the wait station, watching and...smirking? What had he gotten himself into? On Sam's recommendation, he got the lobster stew and the fish and chips. She ordered the same thing for herself. Whenever Ellen got the chance she'd pop over to the table and chat. Both women wanted the full update on work at the manor.\n\nThursday was contractor day. Conall met with both the electrician and the propane guy. The news was better than he expected. They confirmed they could get right on it and complete the work by late Friday, but offered to return Saturday, if necessary. The stove and refrigerator were being delivered early Friday. The cleaning crew returned, as promised, and finished their job. While all this was going on Conall continued to go through the house making a list of things he needed to buy. A major trip to Walmart was in his future.\n\nThat night he went straight back to the inn, got a quick bite to eat in the dining room, and went up to his room. He got several texts from both Ellen and Sam, but replied he was tired. As much as he loved spending time with them, maybe giving it a break for a night wasn't a bad idea. That night he dreamed...and they were powerful dreams. It didn't surprise him the dreams were about the Sam and Ellen. He woke up confused, sweating, and aroused.\n\nFriday was another busy day. The appliances arrived, as promised, and the refrigerator was humming and cooling by lunchtime. The stove installation didn't go as planned. The final hook-up was going to have to be on Saturday. He called it quits after the propane people left and texted both Sam and Ellen he was headed to MacDougal's. It was mid-afternoon and he was looking forward to seeing them.\n\nAs he drove towards town, he thought about the two women who were starting to inhabit his dreams, let alone his waking thoughts. He was used to pursuing one woman at a time. It seemed like the right thing to do and definitely less hazardous to his health. But still, it seemed like he was becoming consumed, perhaps obsessed with them.\n\nAt MacDougal's he found Sam waiting tables. Mary was behind the bar. Conall took his favorite table, the one by the window. Sam sidled up to him with a big smile. \"Hey, Conall, we missed you last night.\"\n\n\"Likewise,\" he replied.\n\n\"I dreamed about you,\" she said evenly. Conall froze for a moment. The way she said it seemed odd; it was matter-of-fact...not teasing or joking.\n\n\"Um, that's weird. I dreamed about you, too.\"\n\n\"And Ellen dreamed about you.\"\n\nHe swallowed hard. \"Okay, double weird then, since she was in my dream, too.\"\n\nThen, as if they had just been talking about the weather, she added, \"She worked the lunch shift, but she'll be here in a few minutes. You should buy her dinner tonight.\"\n\nConall blinked and shook his head. Did he hear her right? \"Sure, I'd love to.\"\n\nSam smiled. \"Good. I'm guessing you'd like a beer?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Can you read my mind?\" he joked.\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\nAs Sam predicted, Ellen breezed through the door five minutes later. She came over to the table and sat down. \"Hi, Conall. I missed you last night.\"\n\nHe saw her eyes light up and her smile was brilliant. \"I missed you too, Ellen.\"\n\n\"Did you miss Sam, too?\"\n\nHis radar came up immediately. Was this a challenge? Trouble brewing? For some reason he decided to go with honesty. \"Yeah, I missed you both.\"\n\nHe was rewarded with a huge smile. \"Good,\" was all she said. Conall suddenly realized he didn't have a clue when it came to women. Strange continued to be his new normal. He was mystified and maybe in deep trouble. The rest of the afternoon was spent sharing the events of the day and relaxing, at least for Conall and Ellen. Once again, he eased into the comfortable connection they all seemed to have. After sharing a pleasant meal with Ellen, he headed back to the inn.\n\nBy noon on Saturday the stove was working; Conall was thrilled. Afterwards, he drove to the Walmart in Rockland and bought all the linens, towels, and other household goods. By the time he finished shopping it getting was late, so he got something to eat in downtown Rockland. Driving back, he realized the tides were right. He didn't want to leave his car in the parking lot overnight while it was stuffed to the gills with packages, so he drove directly to the manor to unload. When he was done, he just wanted to go back to his room and chill out.\n\nThe plan for Sunday was to get the bedrooms ready, buy food to stock the house with, and move in. He'd also received a call from Oliver, who asked if he could meet with him at the manor. When Oliver came through the front door, Conall was upstairs making the beds with the linens he'd bought the day before.\n\n\"Conall?\" Oliver called.\n\n\"Yeah, upstairs!\" he yelled back.\n\nWhen Oliver entered the master bedroom Conall was just finishing making the bed. He looked around and peeked into the bathroom, which had the door open. \"Very nice, Conall. You've made amazing progress with the place. How about a tour?\"\n\n\"Sure, follow me,\" he answered proudly.\n\nAn hour later they settled into a couple of chairs on the wrap-around porch, beers in hand. It was Sunday morning, but the occasion seemed to demand it. \"I'm very impressed,\" said Oliver. \"You've really taken this place to heart.\"\n\n\"I guess I have.\"\n\n\"I was wondering what you would do with the hundred thousand dollars I gave you.\"\n\n\"What did you think I was going to do?\"\n\n\"You could have just bought a new car or taken a trip to some Caribbean island.\"\n\nConall chuckled. \"Why would I do that? This is the only island I could ever want. It seems impossible I first saw the manor last Sunday... and it already feels like home.\"\n\nThat raised Oliver's eyebrows. \"Interesting.\" He studied the younger man for a few moments. \"You know, I have no doubt Shamus felt the same way. Perhaps there is more to your connection than just blood and the color of your eyes.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\nOliver let out a little laugh. \"This is a small town, Conall. Ellen and Sam?\"\n\n\"We're just friends.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course,\" he replied diplomatically.\n\nAfter Oliver left, Conall kept at it until everything was set up. The only task that remained was grocery shopping; the manor was ready for him to move in. It was time to spend his first night on the island.\n\nHe drove to the inn, packed up his stuff, and checked out. Then he drove to MacDougal's for a celebratory drink and to tell his friends the news. It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday, so the place was pretty much deserted. Sam was behind the bar and Ellen was waiting tables. They both lit up with big smiles as soon as he walked in. To be honest, he was wearing a smile just as broad.\n\nEllen walked up and gave him an unexpected hug. \"Where have you been? We've missed you.\"\n\n\"I've been busy getting the manor set up. I came by for a drink and to tell you it's all done, at least for now.\"\n\n\"That's awesome!\" squeaked Ellen and gave him a high five.\n\nSam leaned over the bar and gave him a high five, too. \"Congrats. Can't wait to see it, Conall.\"\n\n\"And you won't have to. You're both off tomorrow...right?\" Sam nodded. \"Then why don't you come out to the island? I'll give you the tour, we can hang out, and I'll cook dinner for us.\"\n\n\"Count me in,\" Sam replied, trying hard to contain her excitement.\n\nEllen made no such effort. \"Yes!\" she squealed, and gave him another hug.\n\n\"Let me buy you a beer,\" said Sam. She poured a pint of his favorite and slid it across the bar.\n\nAs much as he wanted to stay, Conall was pushing up against his deadline with the tide and he still needed to go to the grocery store. He said his goodbyes and headed for the IGA.\n\nWhen he was finished shopping the grocery cart was literally filled to the top. He had to buy everything from salt and pepper to fruits and vegetables. Once again, Lottie was waiting for him at the cash register. Did she ever go home?\n\n\"Hi, Lottie,\" he said.\n\n\"Hi, Conall. Oh my, what a lot of groceries you have. Moving into the manor so soon?\"\n\nHe cocked his head to the side. \"You know about that?\"\n\n\"My goodness, yes. It's kind of the talk of the town.\"\n\n\"It is?\" Conall wasn't thrilled about being the center of attention; Lottie seemed to sense it.\n\n\"Now don't you fret. As soon as the tourists show up for the season folks around here will have plenty to gossip about other than you.\"\n\n\"I guess, but the answer is 'yes'. I'm moving in tonight.\"\n\n\"I'm so glad for you. Having another O'Keefe in that beautiful old place just seems right.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Lottie.\"\n\nIt was starting to get dark when he reached the causeway. The road was dry, but the water was lapping at the edges. He'd just made it. As he approached the manor, the last rays of sunshine lit up the tops of the turrets. It was beautiful. He suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anticipation.\n\nShamus O'Keefe – The Accident, July, 1926\n\nIt was a fine, bright day in July. Even though it promised to be hot as the sun rose higher, a pleasant breeze rolled off the ocean and across the broad porch of the manor. Erin and Selene sat together sipping their breakfast tea and sharing moments from the previous evening. Shamus had fetched Rex from his small barn near the edge of the meadow and was saddling the horse for a morning ride. Both horse and master looked forward to dashing along the bridal paths that wound through the woods and circled the island.\n\nHe rode up to the porch to tell Erin and Selene he was off. As he came close Shamus pulled back on the reins and Rex came snorting to a stop. He pawed the ground with a front hoof, anxious to be on their way. Shamus patted his neck affectionally. \"Be patient, Rex. We'll be off in a moment.\"\n\nErin smiled and placed her teacup down on the table. \"Have a wonderful ride, my love, and do be careful.\"\n\n\"Come back to us soon, Shamus,\" Selene added.\n\n\"I will, I promise.\" He pulled the reins to the left. Rex wheeled, then broke into a fast trot across the meadow. The two women watched as the love of their lives entered the woods and disappeared from view.\n\nWhen hours had passed without Shamus' return, Erin and Selene were frantic with worry. They sent the butler and other servants out to search the island. When the butler emerged from the woods and walked slowly to the house, they knew. He stood before them at the bottom of the steps to the manor, his head bowed low. \"I'm so sorry...Mister O'Keefe and his steed have taken a fall...they are gone. I'm so sorry.\"\n\nThe women burst into tears, hugged each other...and began to wail in anguish.\n\nTwo weeks later, dressed in black, Erin and Selene sat in the office of Arthur Raines for the reading of the will. The three of them were the closest Shamus had to family. As Arthur explained the terms of the will, the women just nodded numbly.\n\nSelene, always the strong one, spoke. \"We know, Arthur. Shamus explained everything and assured us we'd be taken care of. He had a strong faith that, sometime in the future, his descendants would return to this place and make a home of it, like we did. We have only one regret; Shamus was taken from us before his time.\"\n\nThen Erin spoke, her voice breaking. \"It's not fair, it's not right. We will never accept he's gone. _Never_ ,\" she declared tearfully.\n\nConall O'Keefe – The Descendant\n\nMonday morning Erin and Sam woke up earlier than usual. They were both looking forward to their day on the island. As soon as the coffee was ready Ellen grabbed herself a cup and took a big gulp, even though it was really hot. \"Damn!\" She shook her head. \"I needed that.\"\n\n\"What, didn't you sleep well?\" Sam asked as she poured her own coffee.\n\n\"Yes and no.\"\n\n\"Dreams again?'\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Conall?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nSam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. \"Me too.\"\n\n\"What is up with that?\" Ellen huffed. \"I haven't had dreams about a guy, at least not like this, since Jimmy Meyers in the seventh grade.\"\n\nSam started laughing. \"Jimmy Meyers? Really? He was a freaking dork.\"\n\n\"Fine, _whatever_. Like you never had a crush?\" said Ellen defensively.\n\nSam looked pensive for a moment; her eyes focused somewhere on the ceiling. \"Well, there _was_ Sarah Michaels, that girl in tenth grade, but she moved away the next year.\"\n\nEllen giggled. \"I remember her. She was hot.\"\n\nAfter breakfast they got ready for their outing. Ellen spent some extra time in the bathroom putting on her make-up. Then Sam took her turn. When she emerged, Ellen was stunned. \"Did my roommate, Samantha Vogel, just put on make-up?\" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.\n\n\"Don't be a bitch, Ellen. It's unbecoming.\"\n\n\"Sorry, couldn't help myself. You ready to go?\"\n\n\"Born ready,\" Sam grinned.\n\n\"Just a sec.\" Ellen returned to her bedroom and retrieved an overnight bag she'd packed. When she came out, she knew Sam would say something...and she did.\n\n\"You know we haven't been invited for a sleep-over, right?\"\n\n\"A girl should always be prepared,\" she replied indignantly.\n\n\"I guess you're right.\" Sam went into her bedroom and retrieved the overnight bag she'd packed for herself. When she came out, Ellen started to laugh.\n\n\"You sly girl you. I guess great minds think alike.\"\n\nOut on the island, Conall was also awake. Like Ellen and Sam, he'd had a restless night; there were dreams...dreams of them and dreams of times past filled his mind. He had his morning coffee and tried to clear his head. Fortunately, there wasn't much for him to prepare in advance of their arrival, so he went out to the sitting rocks and enjoyed the moment. He stared at the ocean swells as they broke relentlessly against the rocky shore and wondered how the day would unfold.\n\nAt nine-thirty Conall got a text; they were sitting in the causeway parking area waiting for the water to recede. He felt a flutter in his stomach. He could hardly wait for them to arrive. Conall sat on the porch and watched the break in the trees where the road emerged from the forest. It didn't take long before Sam's battered green Subaru appeared; he smiled as they approached.\n\nHe walked down the front steps to greet them as their car pulled to a stop. Ellen popped out of the passenger door and threw her arms around him. Then she gave him a full kiss on the lips. \"Thanks for inviting us,\" she said breathlessly.\n\nThen Sam came around the back of the car, pulled him in for a hug, then kissed him too, only slower and more deliberately. \"I'm looking forward to my tour,\" she said playfully. Conall felt a chill go down his spine.\n\n\"I'm really glad you're both here,\" said Conall truthfully, as well as diplomatically. \"Let's start in the kitchen.\"\n\nBoth women shrugged. \"Okay, the kitchen it is,\" replied Sam.\n\nConall wanted to show off his new refrigerator and stove, which he was especially pleased about. \"The house is amazing but, if I'm going to live here, I'm not going to cook on a wood stove or haul blocks of ice for the refrigerator.\"\n\nSam nodded as she looked around the kitchen. \"I hear you. Couldn't agree more. Looks like you're all outfitted here?\"\n\n\"Yep,\" he replied proudly.\n\n\"Haven't you been the busy little beaver,\" she teased.\n\nAs they moved through the house it was apparent how much cleaner and brighter the place was. \"The place smells so much better,\" Ellen commented. \"It was really musty and dusty before.\"\n\n\"Yeah, the cleaning crew did an amazing job, but the job is far from done. They did most of the first floor and three of the bedrooms upstairs. The top floor, where the servants lived, hasn't been touched.\"\n\n\"Oh, oh!\" exclaimed Ellen. \"Can we go up to the turret? I always wanted to see the view from there.\"\n\n\"Sure. It turns out there's a secret staircase that leads from the master bedroom to the turret.\"\n\nSam arched her eyebrows. \"Secret staircase? _Really_?\"\n\n\"I know. Cliché, right?\"\n\n\"But freaking cool. I wanna see it.\" said Ellen excitedly.\n\nAs he led them into the master bedroom Sam paused to look around. The room was immaculate and she could see there were new linens on the bed. \"I love what you're done with the place,\" she observed in a mocking tone.\n\n\"Thanks...and thank you to Walmart. It was hard finding sheets and blankets to fit a bed that big.\"\n\n\"I can imagine,\" said Sam as she ran her hand along the top of the comforter.\n\n\"Come on,\" urged Ellen, who was chomping at the bit to get up to the turret. \"Where's the stairway?\"\n\nConall touched his fingers to his chin as if he was trying to remember. \"Hmm, where was that door?\" He looked around, as if searching for it. Then with a dramatic flair, he pressed on a section of the wood paneling and the door popped open.\n\n\"Cool!\" squealed Ellen. She stuck her head in and saw a spiral staircase leading upwards. \"Are there spiders?\" she asked uncertainly.\n\nConall laughed. \"Not anymore. It's safe.\"\n\nEllen immediately scampered up the staircase.\n\n\"How did you figure it out...the doorway I mean?\" asked Sam.\n\n\"The caretaker, a guy named Jeff Akers, showed me.\"\n\n\"I know Jeff. He comes into the bar once in a while. Nice guy.\"\n\n\"I agree.\"\n\nWhen Sam and Conall stepped out into the small room, Ellen was gaping out the window. \"This is wonderful. You can see the meadow, the forest, and even the ocean. The views are breathtaking.\"\n\n\"Indeed, they are,\" Sam sighed.\n\nConall nodded. \"Yeah, but the windows still need cleaning. It's on the list.\"\n\n\"Way to focus on a small cloud in a bright blue sky, Conall,\" admonished Sam.\n\n\"Good, point,\" he admitted. \"Shall we move on?\" They climbed back down and peeked into the two guest bedrooms he'd cleaned and outfitted.\n\nAt the second one Sam nodded her head approvingly. \"Nice. Expecting company?\"\n\n\"Not yet, but it's a big-ass house to be knocking around in all by myself. I don't think the manor was meant for a single person to live here.\n\n\"I suppose not,\" she said thoughtfully.\n\nWith the tour of the manor complete, they went outside. \"This is a really nice meadow,\" commented Ellen. \"They must mow it.\"\n\n\"They do. Jeff told me this whole area used to be fenced. Shamus would let his horse just wander around in it, munching away at the grass. I guess there used to be a small barn on the property with a stall in it.\"\n\n\"Nice,\" said Sam. \"Even the horse had a cushy life.\"\n\n\"Can't say I blame them. Can you?\"\n\n\"Hell, no. I'd kill for the life they had.\" She saw the look on Conall's face. \"Metaphorically speaking, of course.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" he chuckled. \"There were bridle paths, too,\" he added. \"Jeff said there was no point to maintaining them, but some of them are still hiking trails. Want to check it out?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" Ellen replied enthusiastically.\n\nSam looked to the heavens in a mocking search for patience. \"Yeah, love too.\"\n\nThey set out toward the trail head, which was right next to the mausoleum. Conall noticed the base of the stone building was alive with the bright green shoots of spring flowers; they looked like crocuses.\n\n\"Oh, they're going to be so pretty,\" Ellen cooed.\n\nOnce again, Conall felt an inner pull...a strange feeling. He looked from Ellen to Sam; they both had a strange looks on their faces. \"Uh, let's keep going,\" he said in a shaky voice.\n\n\"Yeah, let's do that,\" Sam replied.\n\nOnce they were on the trail their attention was captured by the beauty of the woods...and their moods shifted. The forest floor and rocks were covered by moss and lichens. Frequent fog pressing in from the ocean had created a sort of northern rain forest...and it was magical. When they emerged on a rocky outcropping near the water's edge, Conall stopped.\n\n\"This is it.\"\n\n\"What? What is it?\" asked Ellen tentatively.\n\n\"This is the place Shamus...and his horse, met their end.\" He heard Ellen gasp quietly.\n\nSam stepped up to the edge of the ravine that led down to the water. \"Sad,\" was all she said. Then after a moment, she added, \"They missed him terribly. They weren't ready to let him go.\"\n\nConall and Ellen both looked at her. She couldn't possibly know that, but they both knew she was right.\n\n\"Let's keep going,\" said Conall. They ambled off along the perimeter trail. Before long, they came upon the party place. \"Ellen, what say we go down to the beach and look for your panties.\"\n\nEllen blushed slightly. \"Um, I'll pass.\"\n\nSam considered teasing her further, but was feeling less evil than she normally did. \"Anyone hungry?\"\n\nEllen perked up immediately. \"I'm starved!\"\n\nConall smiled inwardly, knowing Sam had let her off the hook. \"I totally loaded up at the IGA with food and drinks. The manor is a ten-minute walk from here.\"\n\nAs soon as they got back, they headed for the kitchen. There were all kinds of sandwich fixings, chips, beers, potato salad...\" They fixed up their plates and headed out to the sitting rocks to eat.\n\nAs they were munching away Ellen swallowed what she was chewing and spoke. \"Can we do a fire in the pit tonight?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Conall replied, \"or we can have one in the living room fireplace. We can see how cold it gets later.\"\n\nSam grabbed a chip, crunched down on it, and garbled, \"I'm liking this plan.\"\n\nAfter lunch, they sat at the cliff edge talking and enjoying the view. The sun was warm and the breeze was light. Then Conall rose and asked if he could get them anything from the house.\n\n\"Whatcha got to drink?\" asked Sam.\n\n\"Whatcha want?\" Conall mocked playfully.\n\nShe thought for a moment. \"Maybe a beer for now, but you got something stronger for later?\"\n\n\"I can definitely accommodate you,\" he replied suggestively.\n\n\"We'll see about that,\" she replied, just as suggestively. Ellen just giggled.\n\nConall returned with six beers nestled in a bucket with ice. Sam looked up at him. \"I appreciate good service,\" she said dramatically.\n\n\"Don't get too comfortable with it, princess, your Subaru could still turn into a pumpkin.\"\n\n\"I think not,\" she replied dismissively, then sniffed. Ellen giggled again.\n\nThey spent the rest of the afternoon just enjoying the weather, sometimes talking about nothing, but also sharing what they wanted to do with their lives. Sam wanted to go to college, but admitted it was probably a pipe dream. Ellen wasn't sure, but knew she liked working with kids. When Conall hadn't volunteered anything, Sam prompted him.\n\n\"What about you, mister lord and master of the manor? Going to keep writing stories about fish?\"\n\n\"Um, they're science articles about marine biology.\"\n\nSam rolled her eyes. \"Fine, _articles_ about fish.\"\n\nHe knew she was teasing him. \"I'd like to devote some time to writing.\"\n\n\"Oh, like what?\" asked Ellen, suddenly more interested in the conversation.\n\n\"Fiction. I've been working on a novel for a while. It's just a hobby, but I love doing it. Maybe it could be something more than a hobby now that I have the time.\"\n\n\"That sounds great, if that's what you want to do,\" said Sam earnestly. \"I'm guessing the manor would be a pretty great place to write.\"\n\n\"My thoughts exactly. Plus, I'd like to do what I can to restore this place. Then, when the inheritance is finalized, maybe I can figure out how best to use the foundation's money to help people.\"\n\n\"Admirable goals, one and all,\" replied Sam.\n\nConall huffed a little laugh. \"Be that as it may, it's time for me to start prepping dinner. Let's go in.\"\n\n\"Can we help?\" Ellen asked.\n\n\"Sure, I'll put you to work.\" They gathered up all their trash and headed back to the manor.\n\nHalf an hour later all the salad fixings were laid out on the central island in the kitchen. Sam and Ellen were busy washing, cutting, and slicing everything up.\n\nMeanwhile, Conall was taking sliced boneless chicken breasts, dredging them in flour, and sautéing them with olive oil and garlic in a huge skillet. When he added lemon slices, there was little doubt what was for dinner; lemon chicken.\n\n\"Damn, that smells good,\" said Ellen with a sigh.\n\n\"Yeah, it does,\" agreed Conall. \"It's one of the few dishes I know how to make. Instead of rice, I figured I could just bake a loaf of bread.\"\n\nSam looked up from slicing a tomato. \" _Seriously_ , you're baking _bread_?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a frozen block of dough. He held it up for them to see like it was show and tell. \"Heat oven to four hundred degrees, place on baking sheet, insert in oven, then bake twelve to fourteen minutes or until golden brown.\" Ellen and Sam started laughing. \"And you doubted me?\" he added.\n\nFor dinner, they opened a bottle of red wine. They set the huge table in the dining room, but only on one end. When everything was ready, they shuttled the food out. Conall sliced up the loaf of bread and served it in a bowl; it was still warm.\n\nSam grabbed a piece and took a bite. \"Hey, this isn't bad!\" she exclaimed. \"I could totally be a baker, too.\"\n\nAfter dinner, they cleaned up, then opened another bottle of wine. Conall went to the front door and poked his head outside. There was a stiff breeze and it was cold. He came back inside and reported. \"It's pretty cold outside. Why don't we just light a fire in the living room?\"\n\nSam looked him directly in the eyes and bounced her eyebrows. \"That sounds like a great idea.\" It made his breath hitch.\n\n\"I'd like that, too,\" added Ellen with a sweet smile, somehow too focused on Conall to take note of Sam's blatant flirting.\n\nConall had prepped the fire and arranged a couch in front of the hearth the night before, knowing they might end up there after dinner. The women sat down on the couch while he got the fire going. In no time it was roaring and crackling. The soft light flickered over them and they could feel the warmth on their bodies.\n\nHe turned around and saw the only place to sit was in the middle of the couch. When he settled in, both women scooted closer. Ellen rested her head on his shoulder. \"Thank you so much for inviting us, Conall. I loved everything; going up to the turret, the walk, dinner...everything. It's been wonderful.\"\n\nSam slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. \"Me too, Conall. Thanks.\" He noticed her voice sounded more serious, not the usual sassy, snarky tone he was used to.\n\n\"You're both very welcome, but having you here, sharing all this with the two of you...it's been an incredible day. I don't see how it could be better.\"\n\nThe two women said nothing, but snuggled closer. They watched the fire for a long time, sitting together in companionable silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Conall felt himself getting groggy, mesmerized by the fire. His vision blurred and then went dark.\n\nWhen the fog receded, he turned to Ellen and lifted her chin with his hand. \"Erin, my darling, you're so beautiful.\"\n\nShe threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. \"I've missed you so much, my love!\" she said breathlessly.\n\nHe turned to his right and smiled at the sight of the beautiful brunette. \"Selene, my love, I've returned, as I promised I would.\"\n\nTears formed in her eyes. \"I know Shamus, I never doubted it.\" She leaned forward, kissed him slowly, then rose to her feet. \"Come with us, beloved. Let us say the goodbye that's been denied to us for so long.\"\n\nConsciousness slowly retuned to Sam's sleeping form. Bright sunlight was shining on her face. She blinked and her eyes fluttered open. One look confirmed she wasn't dreaming; she was in Conall's bedroom...in his bed. However, the peacefully sleeping form next to her had a cascade of blonde hair covering the pillow. It wasn't Conall...it was Ellen.\n\nSam reached out and shook Ellen's soft shoulder. \"Ellen,\" she whispered.\n\nThere was a groan and a mumble. \"Five more minutes...\"\n\nSam shook her again, more urgently. \"Ellen, wake up!\"\n\n\"Wha...what is it?\" she replied groggily. \"Where are we?\" Suddenly, her body stiffened. \"Oh my God! What are we doing here?\"\n\n\"Come on, Ellen. Don't give me that 'I don't remember anything' crap,\" said Sam, clearly annoyed.\n\nEllen slowly closed her gaping mouth, her memory of the prior night returning. \"Um, did we...?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nEllen gulped. \"And Conall?\"\n\n\"Oh, _yeah_.\"\n\nEllen covered her face in her hands. \"Talk about a walk of shame. He must think we're horrible.\"\n\nSam laughed. \"I sincerely doubt that.\"\n\n\"I wish I had a hangover.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Then I'd have a decent excuse.\"\n\n\"Yeah, too bad about that sweet lips.\"\n\nEllen stuck her tongue out at Sam. \"Wait a minute. Was he calling me Erin last night?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"And he was calling you Selene! That's kind of demeaning, don't you think?\"\n\n\"Maybe, but then you, or should I say we, shouldn't have been calling him Shamus all night.\"\n\nEllen grimaced. \"Good point. So, where is our lord and master of the manor?\"\n\n\"Don't know. How about we get some clothes on and go look?\"\n\nTen minutes later they went down to the kitchen where a hot pot of coffee was waiting for them.\n\n\"Coffee,\" Sam gasped. \"Thank God.\" She quickly poured two cups and handed one to Ellen, who was reading a note sitting next to two coats on the counter. \"What does it say?\"\n\nEllen was wearing a big smile. \"It's a note from Conall. He says to bring our coffee out to the sitting rocks. I guess it's cold so he laid out coats for us.\"\n\nSam took a sip from her coffee and nodded. \"Sounds like he doesn't think we're so horrible after all.\"\n\nWhen they got out to the cliff, Conall was just sitting there, staring out over the ocean. Sam walked up and stood over him, holding the warm mug of coffee in both hands. \"Hey,\" she said quietly.\n\nHe looked up, a small smile on his face. \"Hey,\" he replied and nodded to Ellen, who just smiled shyly.\n\nAfter a moment, Sam spoke. \"What's my name?\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Humor me.\"\n\n\"Sam.\"\n\nShe cocked her head toward Ellen. \"And her?\"\n\n\"Ellen.\"\n\n\"Good. I'm glad we got that straight, Shamus.\" She saw his eyes go wide and laughed. \"I mean Conall.\"\n\nHe saw she was teasing him. \"I don't know what to say about last night. It was very strange... amazing, but strange.\"\n\n\"You think?\" Sam chuckled. \"I'd say it registered an eleven on a scale of ten on the strange-o-meter.\" Ellen giggled, something she obviously excelled at.\n\n\"Can't disagree with that,\" he said wistfully. \"You know, when I got up and came out here, I went to the mausoleum.\" They watched and waited for him to continue. \"Those flowers we saw yesterday, the ones we saw all around the perimeter? They were in full bloom. It was beautiful.\"\n\n\"I'd like to see that,\" said Ellen softly.\n\nSam looked thoughtful. She turned to Conall. \"Do you think they're happy now? Do you think they're at peace?\"\n\nConall became pensive, then looked out over the sea. \"Yes. I think they are...finally.\"\n\n###\n\n### About the Author\n\nNik Kominos is a pen name to protect the innocent, or the guilty, depending on your point of view. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. Please check out my Smashwords page. All my stories are free and all comments are welcome.\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nSTRANGE TALES\n\nFOR COZY NIGHTS – 1\n\nby Brian Bakos\n\nHello dere, friends!\n\ncover: Othoniel Ortiz photos: Brian Bakos\n\nCopyright 2017, Brian Bakos / revised 10-2019\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to anyone else. If you want to share this book, please buy an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and obtain your own copy. Thanks for respecting the author's hard work.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nPrologue\n\nThing in the Lake\n\nVoyage\n\nThe Man Who Loved Winter\n\nHaunted Woods Excursion\n\nHealer\n\nBear Country\n\nThe White River Terror\n\nPersonnel Enhancement Service\n\nRifle King\n\nConnect with the Author\n\nBrian's Other Books\n\n#  Prolog\n\nAre you the sort of person who enjoys a little distress with your evening mug of cocoa? Do mysterious abominations creeping in the gloom hold a special charm?\n\nIf so, these nine stories are for you. They encompass a wide variety of topics and settings, so with a little imagination, you can put yourself into at least one scenario. Not to worry. The best part about nightmares is waking up and discovering they aren't real. Or are they?\n\nHappy reading!\n\n# Thing in the Lake\n\n1. The thing finds me\n\nSomething thuds against the bow as I drift through the darkness.\n\nWhat the hell?\n\nI drop to my knees and switch on the flashlight, expecting to discover a small log or maybe a beer cooler floating in the water. You never know what some drunk will toss off a party barge. I ready my paddle to shove aside the obstruction.\n\n\"Ahhh!\"\n\nMy flashlight tumbles into the water as I fall back along the floor. The canoe rocks, threatening to capsize.\n\nGod help me!\n\nBut God is nowhere in this night. I'm alone and unprotected as clouds scud across the sliver of moon. My canoe ceases pitching. The thing in the lake scrapes the hull with the scratching hands of death. My own hand trembles as I flick on the electric trolling motor clamped to the stern.\n\nI grip the drive handle and bring my craft gently around. It bears me away. Somewhere, a loon shrieks.\n\nMy patio light draws closer. I scramble onto the seat and open the motor full throttle, not looking back to see if the horror pursues.\n\nWhen the bow strikes dry land, I leap ashore. The next thing I recall is standing in the shower under a hot blast.\n\nI fall into bed.\n\n* * *\n\nWhen I awake, it's still dark. The clock is lying face down on the carpet, and Jodie is not with me.\n\nDid any of this really happen? Am I still out on the lake, and this bedroom only an illusion?\n\nThings have come unstuck in the world.\n\nAfter daybreak, I drag myself downstairs to the kitchen and pop open a wine cooler. Jodie is fond of these, the sole blemish in her otherwise impeccable taste.\n\nIt's the only alcohol in the house. I drink it fast and open another. Then I head out the sliding glass doors to the lake.\n\nThe neighboring houses are distant and empty. Midweek interlopers like myself are uncommon on this gentrified part of the shoreline. My canoe is pulled into its customary place. Everything seems in order, except...\n\nThat smear along the port hull – was it there before?\n\nI slug down half the wine cooler and gaze over the watery expanse. In other countries, this would be a 'sea,' but here in Michigan, it's just one of several massive lakes gouged out by glaciers and augmented by dams.\n\nI've been coming here my whole life, since Mom & Dad owned the place – before the second floor got built and Jodie's designer furnishings took over. The huge body of water seizes my mind and returns it to a winter day when I was twelve.\n\nYou could look a long way down into the frozen lake. That's where I saw it. No one else could, especially not Rex who proclaimed I'd \"gone wacko.\" But I knew what was there.\n\nI return to the house and make a call on the landline. My cell phone is for my other life downstate.\n\n2. Struggle to comprehend\n\nThe waitress smiles as I push open the glass door to the Kawfee Cup café. A few locals are scattered around the tables and counter, nobody I know. Rex sits in a remote booth wearing his usual jeans and checked shirt. His hair and beard are neatly trimmed.\n\n\"You look like crap, Ben,\" he says.\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nSame old Rex. We had many adventures together as boys, and we've kept in touch. When I come up here for a break, he can help me shed my more complicated self to take on the simpler aspect of this small town.\n\n\"So, what's the big deal?\" Rex asks.\n\nThe waitress arrives with coffee before I can tell him.\n\n\"The mini-breakfast, egg over easy,\" I say.\n\n\"Coming right up.\"\n\nThis skimpy repast is all I can handle right now. The waitress departs. She is really cute. Hopefully, I haven't been too blunt with her. I don't want to come across as some insensitive jerk from downstate.\n\nRex is a blunt guy, too. That's another reason I like him. He's devoid of the political hackery and double talk I must deal with in the working world. He isn't one to stick a knife in your back.\n\nI spend a few minutes trying to absorb the relaxed ambiance with my coffee. Then I get to the point. \"Remember when we were kids and I saw that car under the lake ice? You said I was crazy.\"\n\nRex grins, good-natured, though a bit apprehensive. \"Yeah, how could I forget?\"\n\n\"But I was right, as later events proved.\"\n\n\"I'll grant you that,\" Rex says with a tip of his cup.\n\nHow to continue? The waitress arrives with my breakfast. I dig in, stalling for time.\n\nI'm famished and regret not ordering something more substantial. Rex has a calming effect on me. The waitress' friendly attitude also gives me some grounding. My numbed sensibilities begin to thaw.\n\nRex turns reflective. This is the point where he'd yank a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and light up, if such things were still allowed in restaurants.\n\n\"That was quite a day, all right,\" he says.\n\nI wait for him to say more, but it's not forthcoming.\n\n_Well, don't expect too much from a hick,_ I think uncharitably.\n\nI drink some coffee, holding the warm mug like a comfort blanket. \"Something similar happened last night.\"\n\nRex's eyes flash, and he gulps hard. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I took my boat out on a 'loony cruise.' Something was in the water.\"\n\nI have another sip of coffee, wishing it was a powerful cocktail, instead.\n\n\"What was it?\" Rex says in a virtual whisper.\n\n\"A body.\"\n\nColor drains from Rex's face. \"Did you report it the sheriff?\"\n\n\"No need for that.\"\n\n\"No need? If there's a body in the water, the sheriff's gotta be informed.\" Rex glances around and lowers his voice. \"Do you know who it was?\"\n\nI shrug. \"Sorry, that's all I can tell you.\"\n\nRex looks like he's been slugged in the gut. Time hangs suspended in the little restaurant.\n\n\"More coffee?\" the waitress asks. Her name tag identifies her as _Carla_.\n\n\"Please,\" I say, \"and more for my friend, too.\"\n\nShe smiles warmly at me, but pretty much ignores Rex. He could be having a coronary and she probably wouldn't notice. Rex is only the familiar truck hauler and handy man, while I'm the exotic 'rich guy' from down south.\n\nThe fact I can think in such terms verifies the release of tension. My sophisticated, or at least cynical, self is reemerging. It really _does_ help to get things off your chest – especially when it's a vision of death floating in the water, glassy eyes staring into a flashlight beam.\n\nCarla tops up our coffee and leaves, swaying her hips. She's maybe a year or two out of high school, and life must be looking rather dead end-ish here.\n\nRex recovers from his shock. \"Hey, don't do that to me, man. A joke's a joke, but – \"\n\n\"This isn't a joke.\"\n\n\"Damn,\" Rex says. \"Damn...\"\n\nHe stares at me like I'm a ghost. I can't resist the temptation to reach across the table and grip his forearm. He jerks back; I grin wickedly.\n\n\"Did you tell Jodie?\"\n\n\"She's back home now. Our schedules don't match this week.\"\n\n\"I see.\"\n\nA vacuum descends on the conversation. I take a final slug of coffee. \"It was good talking to you, pal. Sorry if you're upset.\"\n\n\"No... it's all right.\"\n\nFor a moment, all the social strata b.s. falls away. I'm suddenly fed up with who I am and what I do, with the people I associate with back home. Rex is unvarnished, but he's a true friend. He seems an object of pity now, sitting here, baffled.\n\nI stand and drop a fat tip onto the table. \"Thanks for listening to me.\"\n\n\"Right...\"\n\nI pay our bill at the register.\n\n\"Come back soon,\" the waitress says as she hands me the change.\n\n\"Sure thing, Carla.\"\n\nI notice her watching me in the glass as I head for the door. Our eyes meet for an instant within the reflection, then I'm outside walking to my BMW. Carla's obvious interest gives me a lift. The womanizing thing is in the past, though. I've got the real deal now and would never do anything to spoil it.\n\nI look back toward the restaurant and catch a glimpse of Rex still sitting at the table, his head bowed, like he's praying.\n\nNext stop, the public boat access point a half mile from my house. I spend a few minutes idling near the ramp looking out over the gray water.\n\nThis is where that cottage renter, Keith Anderson, drove his car into the lake twenty-five years ago with his wife beside him and their two children in the back seat. The guy cracked up and chose to end it all, for everybody.\n\nI was the first to notice the blue Chevy resting on the bottom with a U of M banner on its antenna, frozen mid-wave. Thing was, Anderson drove his blue Chevy into the lake during early June, four months after I spotted it below the ice.\n\n3. Departures\n\nMy original plan was to stay overnight and drive directly to work Thursday morning, but another evening with my personal bogeyman is not an attractive option. I need to see Jodie.\n\nThis coming weekend is my annual corporate retreat – a pseudo-social event during which we ponder the coming year's business. It can be sort of fun with its manufactured bonhomie, but the knives are still out, just as they are at the office.\n\nMany of us take a day or two off to prepare for the ordeal. That's what I was doing at the lake – working on my presentation in peaceful surroundings. And so they were, until the unannounced visitor showed up. I'd been taking a canoe break to \"chase the loons,\" as Rex puts it.\n\nIt _had_ to be an illusion, some bizarre waking nightmare brought on by stress... but I know what I saw.\n\nI take the scenic route home, enjoying the Lake Huron views and the slower pace of secondary roads. A stop for lunch, after which I read the _Free Press_ on a park bench.\n\nI cannot shake the feeling of a haunted presence sharing my trip – riding in the back seat, sitting beside me on the bench hidden by the newspaper. I can _almost_ see it, smell the damp odor; but, of course, nothing is there.\n\nAt one point, I swerve onto the road shoulder while craning my neck to look at the back seat. Thereafter, I limit myself to occasional glances in the rear-view mirror. It's tilted down to improve the view of the car interior. Classical music pouring from the sound system helps to occupy my mind.\n\nFor someone who spends much of his working day on the phone, I have a peculiar shyness about calling my wife. Jodie is with a high-powered law firm and has lots of her own pressures. She doesn't appreciate being checked up on. Doing so seems like a lack of trust.\n\nIt isn't until the northern suburbs that I call her.\n\n\"Weren't you coming home tomorrow, after work?\" she says. \"Is something wrong?\"\n\n\"No,\" I lie, \"I just got to missing you.\"\n\nA pause, then, \"That's sweet.\"\n\n\"Join me for dinner?\"\n\n\"Can't. I'm still at the office.\"\n\nIt's past 9:00 when Jodie comes in. After a distracted welcome-home kiss, she heads into the shower.\n\nWhen she comes out, I have a warm oil massage ready. She purrs with delight under my fingers. Her body, lying prone on our bed, is a vision of paradise. Soft curves, flowing black hair, and a wonderful face buried in the pillow.\n\n\"You're beautiful,\" I say.\n\n\"Mmm... you're not bad yourself.\"\n\nI add some warm oil to my hands and rub them along her back. \"Our features would blend well. Someday, if... you know, we had kids.\"\n\nShe's asleep now and doesn't hear me. Or maybe she's just pretending.\n\n* * *\n\nA similar scene plays out Thursday night. Jody comes home late, exhausted, and goes straight to bed.\n\nShe's working on a \"monster case.\" It's a big hassle, but also a major opportunity. She's getting away for the weekend, she vows. She's bugging out early Friday and heading to the lake for two days of R&R. Meanwhile, I'll endure the corporate retreat at another lake farther south.\n\nI'm not pleased about Jodie's solo trip. As I lie beside her, I think of the long, dark drive, the deserted forest area around the house, the distant neighbors, the howling of dogs and loons. Then I think of the 9mm automatic she totes in her purse like a fashion accessory, and I feel better.\n\nWhat about the horrid apparition floating in the lake?\n\nThat's _my_ personal bogeyman, though. I want to tell her about it but can't. It's another barrier between us. There are way too many barriers now – jobs, schedules, the children I want and she doesn't. Things are drifting apart.\n\nI've been too wrapped up in nonessentials. That specter in the lake opened my eyes to the important things in life. Maybe I should be grateful to it. I feel a desperate burst of love for Jodie as she sleeps beside me, the moonlight dappling her nude body through the curtains.\n\nI _must_ reach out to her – as soon as this terrible weekend is over. Sunday night we'll drink martinis together, or wine coolers if she prefers. We'll talk about us and what we mean to each other. We'll rekindle our love. I've already slid into the divorce swamp once before. It won't happen again.\n\nThe political intrigues are deepening at my office. Profits are down for the third straight quarter, and the finger pointing is getting worse. Factions are forming up, and it doesn't seem possible to remain 'above it all.'\n\nI've apparently been identified with the anti-CEO crowd. I'm not sure how that happened, only that certain people are friendlier these days and others more stand-offish. Rumors abound like poisonous insects.\n\nDamn everybody!\n\nI drift off to sleep. The thing in the lake tries to barge into my dreams, but the warm presence of Jodie keeps it at bay.\n\n* * *\n\nFriday morning, I see Jodie off early. She's packed a bag and intends to drive up North directly from work. She looks more relaxed and happy now.\n\n\"See you Sunday night,\" she says with her good-bye kiss.\n\nLater, when I walk into my office, the atmosphere is tense and foreboding. People look the other way as I pass. When I enter the men's room, the place clears out quick.\n\nI'm called in for a 'conference' during which I get the standard termination claptrap. I've done well in my job, but the company is \"going in a new direction\" and can't retain people who \"are not a good fit.\" So, everyone \"needs to move on.\"\n\nTranslation: the pro-CEO faction is pulling a coup and getting rid of anyone who is less than enthusiastic about the company's \"new direction.\"\n\nThe boss is still rattling on when I get to my feet. \"I've heard enough bullshit, thank you. Why don't you go jump in the lake?\"\n\nThe man gapes, startled and frightened – like he fears I'll take a swing at him. The security guard who escorts me out is obviously embarrassed. I wish him luck and drive to the nearest watering hole.\n\nI'm halfway through my martini when it hits me full bore – I'm 37 and out of work. Knowing the disaster was politically motivated makes it no less painful.\n\nCooper and Tradero call. They, too, have been fired, as they were prominent members of the anti-CEO faction – 'my' faction. Tradero fumes. Cooper says he's freed up now to pursue his dream of founding his own business.\n\nThe conversations are mercifully brief. I don't want company for my anguish. I need Jodie.\n\nYet, how can I approach her now? We're not equals any longer. A man _needs_ to be a breadwinner, at least as capable as his spouse. But it's her role to support and sympathize with me – for richer or poorer. Right?\n\nFor the first time, I can identify with guys like Rex. I remember when he lost his well-paying factory job downstate. The job was a huge step up for him. He and his wife were looking at new houses and talking of a better future for their family when the layoffs came.\n\nMy situation is nothing as bad as Rex's, though. Is it? I have marketable skills and money in the bank. I own the lake house in the clear. Cooper might be onto something about founding a new company. Maybe I could go that route.\n\nThe whole thing has struck my sense of manhood a crippling blow. I try to tell myself things will work out, but deep inside, I can't believe it.\n\n4. Final solutions\n\nResisting the temptation to drown my sorrows further, I leave the bar and go home – shower, eat, try to nap. All the while I'm hoping Jodie will walk through the door; maybe she's forgotten to pack something. I'll reach out to her then and...\n\nBy late afternoon, it's obvious she's not coming. I think of the weekend stretching before me like a vast wasteland. How can I navigate it alone?\n\nMore than once as I roar along I-75 North, I wonder what it would be like to swerve into an overpass abutment. I imagine the brief, violent event, then peaceful eternity.\n\n_Keep perspective!_ an inner voice cautions. _It's not the end of the world._\n\nOnly it _feels_ like it. I'm 37 and starting over. My whole life has been a gigantic waste. Self pity is choking me. The humiliating episode of this morning keeps playing through my mind.\n\nWhy wasn't I more forceful? Why didn't I slug one of those self-righteous jerks?\n\nI get to the little town about 8:45. I haven't phoned Jodie to say I'm coming, as I'm not sure if I'm coming or not. Maybe I'll turn around and head back, or go someplace else, or go off and die. Anxiety and longing struggle in my mind. I desperately want comfort from my wife, but I dread her reaction.\n\nA beer can help me decide, or at least stall for time. I head to the Pine Knot bar and park amid the rows of pickup trucks. This isn't the type place I frequent, but it's the only watering hole around. As I walk through the door, it occurs to me that I'm nursing a lot of pain these days with alcohol.\n\nIt's a country style place with twangy music blaring through wall speakers. In the far corner is a band set up. Carla, working behind the bar, is the only person I recognize.\n\nSo, she's got a night job, too. I'm grateful to see her, and the belt of tension around my head lessens a bit.\n\nA few customers are drinking long-necked beers which she serves from a small refrigerator near the lottery game console. I take a stool at the empty end of the bar.\n\n\"What time does the band start?\" I call over to her.\n\nShe looks up, and her face brightens. She walks toward me. \"Oh, hi...\"\n\n\"Ben,\" I say.\n\nAs she gets close, her smile fades. I know what she's thinking. \" _You look like crap!\"_\n\nShe quickly recovers. \"Hi, Ben. You've found me at my 'second career.'\"\n\nI'm surprised to hear myself chuckle. \"Well, it pays to keep busy.\"\n\n\"The band starts at 9:30. You going to stick around for it?\"\n\nI glance at my watch. \"Oh... probably not. I just came in for a quick one.\"\n\n\"What'll you have?\"\n\n\"Beer.\"\n\n\"We've got – \"\n\n\"Tell you what,\" I say, \"just put your hand in that fridge, and whatever you touch first, that's what I'm drinking.\"\n\nCarla laughs. \"Okay, you're the boss.\"\n\nShe saunters back toward the fridge. She is a _real_ eyeful. The locals at the other end of the bar express their appreciation.\n\n\"Ain't you a little young to be working here?\" one asks.\n\n\"What time you get off, Beautiful?\" another one says.\n\nShe comes back with my beer. \"I'm 24.\"\n\n\"Really?\" I say.\n\nShe nods toward the guys at the far end. \"Everybody says I look younger.\"\n\n\"I thought you were fresh out of high school.\"\n\n\"Don't I wish! No, I've been through it all. Married, divorced... working at the Pine Knot.\"\n\n\"Kids?\"\n\nShe shakes her head. \"Some day.\"\n\n\"Are you from around here?\"\n\nI feel better asking these mundane questions. It's true that focusing on others can divert you from your own catastrophes.\n\n\"No. My ex was a local, until he took off.\" Carla glances around the Pine Knot; she seems to be holding back a shudder. \"I got to keep the trailer, so here I am.\"\n\nShe fixes her eyes directly into mine. I feel an almost physical contact.\n\n\"Tell me about yourself, Ben.\"\n\nI detect a lot behind this statement. Curiosity, concern – interest?\n\n\"Well, I...\"\n\nBefore I can pour out my tale of woe, customers at one of the tables require attention, and Carla has to go take care of them.\n\nI swig my beer. I'm feeling more like a human being and less like a discarded automobile battery. Carla is sending out her vibe again, and what male wouldn't be pleased with that?\n\nBut it's a slippery slope. Time to call it a night. I down the rest of the beer and leave some cash by the empty bottle. Carla is still busy with the customers and doesn't notice me leave.\n\nA glorious vision of Jodie accompanies me out the door, hovering in the air. Once I'm in the parking lot, it begins to fade. Anxiety replaces it. I look back toward the Pine Knot, but the sight of an uncouth crowd heading toward the place repels me.\n\n\"Look at that thing,\" somebody gestures toward my car. \"Must be a millionaire here.\"\n\n\"Yeah, let's go kick his ass,\" another one says.\n\nThe group of idiots guffaws. I get into my BMW and drive out of town.\n\n_Turn back, you damn fool,_ says a voice in my head. _You're a loser. Jodie doesn't want a loser._\n\n\"Shut up!\"\n\nMy headlights poke a tiny distance ahead into the gloom. I flick on the high beams, but the illumination scarcely improves. Life itself is being sucked away by the darkness. The turnoff appears before I know it, and I drive right past.\n\n_Good move,_ the voice says. _Now keep going._\n\nI back up instead. A vehicle coming behind me honks and swerves. I make the turn.\n\nA terrible sense of foreboding grips me as I drive along the narrow dirt road. I try to call Jodie but am sent straight to her voice mail. I think of trying the land line.\n\nWhat if she's asleep, though? The jangling of the old-fashioned wall phone would guarantee a foul mood. I toss my cell onto the passenger seat. I already have enough bad news for her as it is.\n\nThen a real terror thought strikes me. What if somebody is in the house with her? What if some local whack job has broken in and caught her unawares? What if those cruds from the parking lot are there, aching to brutalize woman from downstate?\n\nAgain, I sense a presence in the darkened back seat. I can smell cold death.\n\n\"Get out!\"\n\nI'm approaching the turnoff to the house. Ordinarily, I'd plow through this final 100 yards and park by the garage, but I'm not willing to do that now for some reason. I pull off into the underbrush and kill the motor. As I get out of the BMW, silence presses down like a coffin lid.\n\nDon't go up there, you idiot!\n\nI start walking. The familiar stretch of woods seems full of threats. Anything could leap out of the shadows and carry me off to hell. I sense a presence walking behind me, then beside me, but I dare not look over.\n\n\" _You're late, Ben Osterman,\"_ it says. _\"That country band is starting to play already, and you've only just got here.\"_\n\nJodie's car is parked outside the little garage, which strikes me as peculiar. Usually, she's careful to protect it from the elements.\n\nI pause. Why the hell am I acting like this?\n\nAs if in a trance, I walk the final yards to the house and peer in through the kitchen window.\n\nThey're sitting close together on the living room couch, drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces. Jodie scarcely resembles the ball of nerves I've had to deal with in recent days – she looks younger, happier, radiant. He is generic handsome, obviously successful. He's got his arm over Jodie's shoulder; he whispers something in her ear, and she laughs...\n\nI am at the shore, moving through knee-deep water. It's soothing, warm. It invites me to swim out to the middle where the lake turns rough and return is impossible – where the dead version of myself I discovered a few nights ago is waiting. A loon screeches. Something deep and seductive rumbles:\n\nDo it! Join us.\n\nIt's the voice of Keith Anderson. Beneath it are the wails of his family and all the other hidden dead. I wade farther out until water tops my hips, preparing to dive in and unite with the glassy-eyed thing floating amid the darkness.\n\nA final glance at the house. The bedroom light upstairs flicks on.\n\n\"Damn you both!\"\n\nI could take them with me, couldn't I? Slip inside the bedroom and catch them unaware.\n\nI look beyond the house, through the dark woods, toward my BMW parked in the underbrush. And beyond that to the country bar where a woman is aching for a new life.\n\nIn that moment, on the cusp of extinction, I know the final choice is up to me.\n\n# Voyage\n\nMy ship has no rudder and is driven by the wind that blows in the undermost regions of death. – The Hunter Gracchus, Franz Kafka\n\nThe man had always sensed he was not alone on the voyage, that some other presence inhabited the ship with him. It lurked within the sails, the rigging, and in the dead hold which he dared not explore.\n\nOn what seemed the third day out, as he stood at the bow viewing the diseased ocean moving past, a figure approached. The man averted his eyes from its rigid, colorless face.\n\n\"What do you want?\" His voice could not mask the dread he felt.\n\nThe tall, gaunt form stood very close to him, rocking slowly – a great pendulum in cadence with the ship's motion.\n\n\" _Come with me,\"_ it said.\n\nThe man followed it to the helm. At a gesture from his frightful companion, he grasped the wheel in trembling hands. The power of the ocean surged through and held him fast.\n\nThen he was truly alone. The ship increased its speed. An unholy wind filled the sails. As it raced ahead, snippets of memory appeared to the man – all of them bespeaking an evil life which was now over.\n\n# The Man Who Loved Winter\n\nStanley McKinney stood on the rest home lawn near the sidewalk watching cars spray wakes of dirty water as they hissed by. Their headlights pierced the foggy evening air. Cold drizzle penetrated his robe.\n\nHe looked toward the leaden, claustrophobic sky. \"Middle of December and it ain't snowed once. Some damned winter!\"\n\nHe puffed his cigar. The luxurious smoke soothed him a little.\n\n\"Mr. McKinney! Stanley!\" an authoritative female voice called.\n\nA nurses' aide advanced toward him under an umbrella. Her white uniform stood out in the dark.\n\n\"How did you get out here?\" she demanded.\n\nStanley held his ground, refusing to answer. The aide gripped his arm and brought him under the umbrella's protection.\n\n\"You must come back inside _right_ now.\" She indicated the cigar. \"You'd better give me that, too. You know the doctor says you can't smoke.\"\n\nStanley felt humiliated and unmanned, but he surrendered the cigar without protest. It still had plenty of good tobacco. The aide tossed it into a sidewalk puddle where it hissed briefly, along with the car tires.\n\n_Godammit,_ _I'm 87!_ Stanley thought rancorously. _What the hell difference can a cigar make now?_\n\nThey made their way slowly back to the building entrance. Moisture from the sodden grass penetrated Stanley's slippers, adding to his misery. Light rain pummeled the umbrella. He resented being corralled like this, but didn't really mind walking with the aide, as she was one of the more attractive ones. She moved ahead up the front step, her white pants stretching over her rear.\n\nNice ass.\n\nHe wanted to grab a handful. That would be the act of a dotard; however, and he would _not_ be regarded as an old fool. Also, it would be ungentlemanly, and he'd always prided himself on being a gentleman.\n\nThey entered the building, and the stink of the place attacked him. The home was clean and well maintained, but it stank nonetheless – a hopeless, beaten down odor that identified the place as the last stop before the graveyard. It cancelled out whatever cheer the occasional Christmas decoration tried to project.\n\nThe aide led him to a sofa in the patient lounge before the nurses' station. Stanley groaned inwardly. This was the \"Goner Lounge\" where the most demented and severely disabled patients were placed. The more able bodied ones, like Stanley, avoided it if they possibly could.\n\n\"Just sit here and watch TV, Stanley,\" the aide said. \"The nurse will be along soon with your medication.\"\n\nShe bustled away.\n\n\"Medication,\" Stanley scoffed.\n\nHe knew that tonight his tranquilizer dosage would be increased, due to his escapade. What was so bad about going out for a little walk? Surely, he was old enough to decide such a simple matter for himself. He narrowed his attention to the TV screen, blanking out the Goners around him as best he could. The weather report was on. The weatherman was pointing to an animated map with swirling cloud patterns.\n\n\"Looks like that storm we were expecting will move south of us tonight,\" he said. \"It'll dump five to seven inches of snow in northern Ohio. Our viewing area can expect continued warm temperatures with light rain.\"\n\n\"Isn't that great!\" said the bubble headed girl standing beside the weatherman.\n\n\"Isn't that great?\" Stanley mocked. He wanted to hurl something through the TV screen.\n\nThe woman sitting to his left cried out: \"My boy's coming to see me tonight!\"\n\nStanley flinched.\n\n\"Shut up!\" another woman spat, \"I'm sick of hearing about your boy. He ain't coming tonight any more'n he did last week.\"\n\n\"Well I'll be . . . \" the first woman muttered, wringing her gnarled hands. \"I'll be.\"\n\nThe other lounge occupants remained flopped on sofas or lined up in wheelchairs. They cared little about the altercation or about what might be blaring from the television.\n\nA young man pushing a broom hurried down the hallway past the lounge. It was Tom, one of the clean up men! He gave Stanley a thumbs-up. Stanley experienced a rush of pleasure.\n\nTom was the one person he could really talk to; the only one who seemed to listen. Actually, they talked very little, but Stanley felt they had much in common, a certain understanding – even though there had to be more than 60 years difference in age. Tom had been laid off from his regular job a couple months ago and had been working here part-time ever since.\n\nStanley glanced at the wall clock. Tom might be taking his break soon at the small lounge down by the cafeteria, the only place in the building where smoking was permitted. If Stanley could just get there somehow! Escape from the Goners; talk to somebody young and alive.\n\nHe looked toward the nurses' station and caught the RN's eye. She smiled professionally – pleasant but firm. She wouldn't let him get away. He resented the power she had over him and despised himself for being unable to do anything about it. He tried to stare her down, but she merely returned to her paper work.\n\nShe wasn't bad looking, though. Forty years ago he might have asked her out, if he'd been single that is. But this line of thought only brought back aching memories of Leni, his deceased wife. This was such a terrible place for her memory to reside. Yet, increasingly these days, he felt her presence. At times it seemed as if she were sitting right beside him.\n\nBut not in the Goner lounge, please!\n\nHe glanced to his right. A woman stared back at him vacuously from her wheelchair. Her twisted hands lay in her lap, in front of her plastic bib. Stanley turned away with a shudder toward the TV.\n\nI'll be like that, soon.\n\nA quiz show was playing, but he couldn't get interested. He'd not be able to get away to the smoking lounge, and the thought depressed him deeply. Then an opportunity for escape miraculously appeared.\n\nOne of the patients, a huge and ancient man, was filling a paper cup from the nearby drinking fountain. Some water slopped onto the floor. When he tried to walk away, he slipped on the little puddle. He fell stiffly and slowly, like some great tree in the north woods crashing to the ground. He knocked over a waste basket as he hit the floor. The RN and two aides rushed over to him.\n\nStanley rose from the couch and walked off, his retreat covered by the mayhem. He wanted to go quickly but could not surpass a leisurely shuffle. Every arthritic joint ached as he passed the group around the fallen man. Nobody noticed him.\n\nHelluva a lousy getaway!\n\nOf all the deterioration he'd suffered in recent years, the inability to walk properly was the worst. He realized that soon he, too, would be sitting in a wheelchair staring at the TV screen in the Goner lounge, along with those others.\n\nHe finally made it to the smoking area, hobbled to a sofa, and plopped down next to a worn looking middle-aged woman. He took her to be a visitor taking a break from a depressing call on some relative.\n\nA few other patients idled about, including Stanley's new roommate \"Senator\" who was sitting in his wheelchair beside the sofa. Stanley did not bother to say hello; the poor guy wouldn't have noticed anyway.\n\nStanley's previous roommate, Red, had died suddenly a week ago, and Senator was unceremoniously shoved in as a replacement. These events had devastated Stanley's morale.\n\nHe'd liked Red a lot. They were both avid pinochle players, and together they'd battled the other rest home card sharps. Stanley had no children, and Red's didn't care much about their dad, so the two old men had made a sort of family for each other. Now Red was gone, and Stanley had to put up with this new man who was quite senile and talked nonsense.\n\n\"We held committee hearings about that,\" Senator spouted off in a loud voice, \"back when Williams was governor. Good man, Williams, miserable taste in ties, though!\"\n\nThe middle-aged woman nodded her head wearily, her eyes unfocused.\n\nStanley chuckled sarcastically. \"Pay no attention to him. He just rattles on. You know, he tells everybody he used to be a state senator.\"\n\nThe woman gave him a sharp look. \"Well, I'm his daughter, and he _was_ a state senator.\"\n\n\"Oh ...\"\n\nStanley felt like an idiot. To cover his embarrassment, he made a big project of adjusting his robe, flicking off bits of lint, tightening the belt. To his immense relief, the woman soon rose and wheeled Senator away.\n\n\"That's my roommate back there!\" Senator said.\n\n\"How nice,\" the daughter replied.\n\nStanley had the whole side of the lounge to himself now. Attached to the wall above, a big air filter hummed its purifying tune. Stanley liked the sound because it obscured the cheerless noises of the rest home.\n\nHe could focus on the machine's low rumble and pretend not to hear the babbling patients, the shuffling feet, the whisk of wheelchairs being pushed along. He could narrow his eyes and imagine himself someplace else, in another time. Glancing through his slit eyes, he could pretend to be a young man again.\n\nTom appeared.\n\nStanley voiced his customary greeting: \"Hello, Boss! Getting caught up?\"\n\nTom smiled; he had such a kind face. He was not a big guy, but powerfully built like a wrestler or gymnast. The arms bulging from his T-shirt looked strong enough to snap the broom handle.\n\nStanley's arms had once been like that, back in the days when he still had hair and teeth. Tom walked with a slight limp, but that only seemed to enhance his masculinity – like an eye patch or a facial scar.\n\n\"Afraid not, Stan,\" Tom said, \"the other clean up guy didn't come in, so I'm doing his work, too.\"\n\nStanley gestured to the sofa. \"In that case, you'll need an extra long break.\"\n\n\"You talked me into it.\"\n\nTom leaned his broom against the wall and sat down on the couch next to Stanley. His broad shoulders took up plenty of room; his whole body radiated vitality.\n\n\"That's a lot of floor to clean, eh?\" Stanley said.\n\n\"Sure is. I'll probably be here til midnight.\"\n\nTom lit a cigarette. The smoke curled elegantly up before disappearing into the air filter. Stanley watched it hungrily. He'd sure like a puff, and to hell with what the doctor said! Tom glanced at him from the corner of his eye and grinned conspiratorially. He handed Stanley a fresh cigarette.\n\n\"Be careful with this,\" he said, firing up a match. \"Give it to me if anybody comes.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Boss.\"\n\nStanley savored a lengthy drag. He was a cigar man, usually, but a cigarette did just fine in a pinch.\n\n\"What do you think of this weather?\" he asked.\n\n\"Can't say as I like it much, especially not with all these visitors tracking in mud.\"\n\n\"Mmm, bad weather for the skiers. Do you ski, Tom?\"\n\n\"My girlfriend wants me to go sometime.\"\n\nStanley warmed to the topic. \"Girlfriend?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Like... _serious_ girlfriend?\"\n\nTom grinned and puffed his cigarette. \"You might say things are tending that direction.\"\n\nStanley chuckled.\n\nProbably best not to pursue this topic further. Things could be a bit iffy.\n\nStill, he felt like taking the young man's arm and telling him: \"Grab this girl, if she's special, and marry her quick. Have lots of children with her!\"\n\nStanley had never missed having his own children while Leni was alive. Their love was so powerful and exclusive there scarcely seemed room for anybody else. But now that she was gone, his lack of offspring pained him severely. He envied the patients who received regular visits from their children and grandchildren. These people were the lucky ones. Many more were like Red, forgotten and alone.\n\n\"I used to ski a lot when I was younger, at my cottage up north,\" Stanley said. \"Hell, what else could you do? Wasn't none of them snowmobiles back then.\"\n\nStanley visualized the snowy woods around his cottage. He could almost feel the invigorating breeze in his face as he glided on his cross-country skis, Leni at his side.\n\n\"Must have been nice,\" Tom said quietly, as if he, too, could see Stanley's vision.\n\nLeni was a true northern girl, of Scandinavian heritage. She knew skiing well and had taught Stanley. The happiest hours of his life were spent on skis with her touring the woods around their love nest. In honor of her memory, winter had become his favorite season.\n\n\"Sold the place a while back,\" Stanley said, \"couldn't afford to keep it.\"\n\nWhat did it matter? The soul had gone out of the cottage twelve years ago when Leni died. Tom was looking at him. An odd, melancholy expression was on the young man's face. Stanley tried to push away his own sadness with chatter.\n\n\"Lots of people don't like snow. They save all their lives to retire in Florida. Then they have a stroke, or something, and end up in this joint.\" He cackled derisively.\n\nTom said nothing, only listened quietly with that same pensive expression on his face. Stanley felt a bond with him, a silent handclasp across the generations.\n\n_Such is the way of men. You just_ _know_ _certain things without having to say a lot of crap._\n\nTom blew a large smoke ring, then shot a small one through the middle. Both rose to the air filter and disappeared.\n\n\"Must be kind of depressing for a young fella like yourself to work here, eh?\"\n\n\"Sometimes,\" Tom said. \"I won't have to do it much longer, though. Did I tell you I've been called back at the plant?\"\n\n\"No... you didn't.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right after new year's. Me and my girl are taking a trip to San Diego to celebrate.\"\n\n\"So, you'll be quitting here soon?\"\n\nTom nodded. \"This is my last night, and it's bound to be a long one.\"\n\nStanley puffed his cigarette, trying to absorb this latest terrible news. The smoke had lost all flavor. Tom snatched the cigarette away from him just as the nurse rounded the corner with her medicine cart.\n\n\"I've been looking for you, Mr. McKinney,\" the nurse scolded.\n\n\"Been here all along.\" Stanley tried to sound hearty, failed miserably.\n\n\"That's right,\" Tom said. \"I've been keeping watch.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\nThe nurse eyed the cigarettes in Tom's hands with obvious disapproval. She handed Stanley a little paper cup.\n\n\"All right, Mr. McKinney, please take your pill now. Then it's bed time.\"\n\nStanley knocked back the tranquilizer, carefully lodging it in a back corner of his mouth. He swallowed the cup of water the nurse gave him.\n\n\"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?\" the nurse said.\n\nStanley got up to leave. \"See you later, Tom.\"\n\n\"Take it easy, Stan.\"\n\nAs he walked along, Stanley coughed into his hand and blew the pill out. He then slipped it into his robe pocket. The nurse was too preoccupied to notice this subterfuge. Pleasure washed over him at the tiny victory.\n\nBack in his room, he searched the night stand drawer for his extra cigar, felt degraded when he couldn't find it. No doubt it had been confiscated. Cursing quietly, but with great passion, he climbed into bed and got under the covers.\n\nThe cigars had been a final gift from Red.\n\nAcross the room, Senator was sleeping with his toothless mouth agape. Stanley wondered what the man had been like years ago when he was a state legislator. He must have been an interesting guy before he'd become the human wreckage he was now – like they all were in this awful place.\n\nAlthough he was tired from the night's exertions, Stanley could not sleep for some time. He lay awake listening to the night sounds of the rest home, feeling the dead weight of the place press down upon him like a tomb lid. His nose wrinkled at the stink that never went away.\n\nFinally he drifted off. The standard dream began playing once more:\n\nHe was a young man again, skiing on a gently sloping wooded hillside. He zoomed along, dodging the trees. The snow fell so heavily it made an almost solid sheet in front of him. Big, ragged flakes stung his face; the air had a wonderfully clean scent.\n\nIt was night time, but the snow radiated a wonderful brightness. His muscular arms dug in the poles, pushing him on to greater speed. A warm presence radiated out in the trees, unseen through the dense snowfall.\n\nThen . . . a whirring sound filled the air, getting louder.\n\nStanley awoke back into the dreary reality of his room. He glanced at the night stand clock. A red 11:18 p.m. glared back at him, casting an eerie glow over his pillow. He stroked his forehead, saddened by his abrupt removal from the dream. His eyes drifted to the window with its half opened drapes.\n\nSnow!\n\nHe got out of bed and moved to the window with more alacrity than he'd had in years. Huge snowflakes were coming down in a furious deluge. A couple of inches had already accumulated.\n\nSo, that damned weather guy was wrong.\n\nStanley shaded his eyes against the brightness and peered out into the storm. Somebody was out there. _She_ was out there!\n\nHe grabbed his robe and rushed to the door. Trembling with excitement, he poked his head outside the room and cased the hall. The nurses' station at the far end was empty. Closer by, Tom was operating a buffing machine. His eyes were fixed to the floor, and the machine's low whir resounded.\n\nStanley crept across the hallway to the exit door and pushed his slight weight against the handle. It didn't budge. He tried again, throwing himself fully into the task. The door banged ajar.\n\nTom jerked his head up. Surprise shot across his face, then a frown. He opened his mouth to speak, but Stanley silenced him with a fierce stare. The buffing machine ran on, polishing the same spot of floor.\n\n\"Let me go, son,\" Stanley said.\n\nMachine noise covered his words, but he knew Tom understood them. Stanley waved solemnly. Tom lifted one hand from the machine and waved back. Stanley forced the door fully open, and the alarm sounded.\n\nNo matter, he was free!\n\nHe passed over the patio and out onto the wooded grounds. Leni waited for him there, young and lovely. Her laughter sparkled amidst the snow flakes. Stanley moved faster toward her, his arms swinging invisible ski poles. The flying snow forced his eyes into a squint.\n\nHe had the proper rhythm now. He was far out into the grounds. When he looked over his shoulder, the rest home prison was no longer visible.\n\nSo long all!\n\nUnable to continue any farther, Stanley sank to the ground and onto his back. He gazed into the sky, at the snow flakes coming for him. They gathered on his face with enticing coolness. He rose to join them. Nothing would ever hold him down again.\n\n# Haunted Woods Excursion\n\nStu couldn't see properly through the skull mask.\n\nNo matter what adjustments he tried, blind spots remained. He felt foolish wearing the mask and black robe, standing amid the drizzle in front of the nature center. He sneezed ferociously.\n\nUgh! What am I doing out here?\n\nHe removed the mask and wiped the inside. The air was clammy on skin which had been sweltering under the rubber.\n\n\"Sounds bad.\" A guy standing beside him in a ghoul costume said. \"You should've stayed home.\"\n\n\"That's what I'm beginning to think,\" Stu replied.\n\nIf another lodge brother hadn't begged off at the last minute, Stu would be home nursing his cold. Instead, he'd been coaxed into working the second annual _Haunted Woods Excursion,_ the lodge's pre-Halloween fundraiser.\n\nAs per last year, the tour was being held during the October full moon. The Hunter's Moon – or the \"Blood Moon\" as it was sometimes called – during which summer-fattened prey could be pinpointed in bright illumination.\n\nStu had been a prime mover in the first event, but this year he'd been largely inactive in Lodge affairs. He ran his own real estate office now and just didn't have the time. There were health issues, too – angina, occasional shortness of breath, doctors' warnings to \"slow down.\"\n\nJim Berry, the lodge president, walked up. He wore a mad scientist costume, complete with bloodstains on his lab coat.\n\n\"Good to see you, Stu.\" They shook hands. \"I really appreciate your coming out on such short notice.\"\n\n\"Just remember this when you're ready to sell your house,\" Stu said.\n\nBerry grinned. \"You're on.\"\n\nStu forgot his misery for a moment and basked in the president's good will. Jim certainly was an adept politician. No wonder he'd been able to oust the former president in the last vote.\n\nBerry unfolded a map and handed it to Stu.\n\n\"I've marked the whole route for you,\" he said.\n\nStu examined the map under the dim light coming through the nature center's glass doors. \"Sure hope we don't get lost.\"\n\n\"Not much chance of that,\" Jim said. \"You'll be sticking to the main nature trails. Besides, weren't you a guide last year?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but that was at the little county park.\" Stu gestured to the darkened woods around the nature center. \"This place is huge.\"\n\n\"It's not _that_ big,\" Jim said. \"Besides, even if you did make a wrong turn, you'd still end up back here.\"\n\n\"Yeah, sometime next month,\" the ghoul added reassuringly.\n\nStu donned his skull mask again. A group of people was coming from the parking lot. Some boys ran on before them.\n\n\"Hey, bonehead!\" one of them called out. \"Is that a mask, or are you really that ugly?\"\n\n\"Cute kid,\" Stu muttered.\n\nHe walked into the nature center and made a quick tour of the exhibits. Display cases with examples of the park's flora and fauna lined the walls. Dead stuffed animals gazed back at him through their glass eyes. One exhibit encouraged visitors to stick their hands inside various holes so as to identify objects by touch. He started to comply, then restrained himself.\n\nCreepy.\n\nStu entered the little auditorium where Hank Duda was orienting a group for their trek in the woods. Hank projected images of witches, werewolves, and other abominations while giving brief histories of each. The audience seemed to enjoy the show, laughing at Hank's jokes and outrageous puns.\n\nThe lights came back on.\n\n\"And now you'll have a chance to meet some of these creatures in person,\" Hank said. \"Good luck! I think you'll need it.\"\n\nThe group exited through a side door. Jim Berry approached Stu.\n\n\"That's your bunch,\" he said. \"If you're still concerned about the route, I'll have Hank tag along part way.\"\n\n\"Only part way?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'll need him back here,\" Berry said. \"He does the intro better than anybody.\"\n\n\"Okay, thanks.\"\n\nStu's party waited for him outside under a Hunter's moon partially obscured by cloud cover. Fifteen people in all – family groups, with one young couple by themselves. Many carried flashlights. Stu noticed with dismay that the big-mouthed kid was among them.\n\n\"Why don't we get going?\" the boy demanded.\n\nStu looked to the boy's parents, hoping they'd assert some discipline. They did nothing, though. The dad was big and blubbery, like an old football player gone to pot. The woman looked the timid, dishrag type, intimidated by her husband.\n\nHank came out from the building and took an unobtrusive position in back.\n\n_Well, let's get this over with,_ Stu thought sourly.\n\nHe flicked on his big metal flashlight and led the way onto the nature trail. He was in no mood for banter. His sweaty mask increased the discomfort of his cold, and his eyes watered. The medication he'd swallowed barely kept his symptoms under control.\n\nThe obnoxious brat – _Dougie,_ the parents called him – presented a further annoyance. Stu walked along glumly, not even noticing the phony coffin lying alongside the trail. He'd already passed it when the vampire leapt out.\n\n\"Blaaa!\" it cried.\n\nSeveral people jumped back.\n\n\"Vhere are you going?\" the vampire said in a fake Hungarian accent. \"I vant to talk to you.\"\n\nThe crowd regained its composure and formed up in a semi-circle.\n\n\"I see you have nice _red_ faces.\" The vampire advanced, baring plastic fangs.\n\n\"Vhy don't you come closer, my friends? I'm not such a bad guy.\"\n\nMost of the people stepped back, except Dougie.\n\n\"You don't scare me!\" he sneered.\n\nAs if intimidated by the defiance, the vampire crept slowly backward.\n\n\"I'm going home now,\" he said. \"I need a 'coffin break.' Then I'll turn into a bat.\"\n\nHe moved behind the box and crouched down out of sight. A moment later, a little baseball bat came tumbling over. The crowd groaned.\n\n\"Whew, that sucked!\" Dougie said.\n\nThe boy's father seemed impressed with such wit. Chuckling indulgently, he placed a hand on Dougie's shoulder.\n\nStu resumed the journey. He heard people moving in the woods alongside the path. They flicked on red lanterns and swung them wildly.\n\n\" **Woooo!\"** the lantern bearers howled, startling everyone and bringing delighted screams from the kids.\n\nStu judged that two other groups were on the trail, one ahead and the other behind them. Laughter, howls, and screams filled the air. The clouds had vanished, unsheathing the bright moon. Magnificent oaks towered above them, rustling in the breeze.\n\nThey arrived at a pond. Stu looked at his monster list under his flashlight ray.\n\nTime for the water demon to show up.\n\nHe played his light along the surface until it located a figure standing waist deep in the water.\n\n\"Hey, get that light off me!\" the water demon bellowed.\n\nHe waded toward shore, jabbing angrily with his trident.\n\n\"Some guy in a rubber suit,\" Dougie remarked.\n\nThe outfit was pretty fake, as were those of the other 'monsters' they encountered. The routines were fun, though, and very entertaining to the children. Stu was impressed with his lodge brothers' work.\n\nDespite himself, he got into the spirit of things.\n\n* * *\n\nThe appearances took place in fairly rapid succession – the vampire, water demon, skeleton, mummy. Stu's monster list did not include the actors' names, but he recognized the various men lurking beneath the costumes.\n\nNow, a lull set in. Stu wondered if he'd made a wrong turn. He'd not paid close attention to the route, assuming Hank would advise him. He looked back toward his lodge brother, and Hank flashed a reassuring thumbs up.\n\nWithout all the buffoonery of the various fiends jumping out of the woods, the night became eerie. The group of visitors drew closer together. Their flashlight rays pooled on the wood chip trail.\n\nStu heard movement in the forest again, stealthy steps paralleling his route. He expected another outburst of howling or the frenetic waving of lights, but nothing happened. The suspense began to annoy him.\n\nCome on, guys, keep things moving.\n\nHe turned back toward the group. \"Our 'friends' are making themselves scarce.\"\n\nHe was surprised to find everyone crowded closely around him, like a bunch of kindergartners clinging to their teacher. The cheeriness had left their faces. Even Dougie was keeping his mouth shut.\n\nStu consulted his list. \"Well, before long, we should be encountering – \"\n\nA werewolf leaped out of the woods, roaring and flailing his clawed hands. Everyone jumped back, including Stu. A group fled several yards down the trail, then returned sheepishly. Their embarrassment might have been amusing under different circumstances, but nobody laughed now.\n\n\"They call me... Wolf Man,\" the monster rasped.\n\nHe stepped forward, menacing the crowd with his fangs. Even Dougie shied away. The guy was very tall and dressed in an incredibly realistic costume. Stu didn't recognize who the actor was under the mass of hair.\n\nThose big fangs must hurt.\n\nStu was glad the teeth weren't jammed into his own mouth; the skull mask was irritating enough.\n\n\"I've been around a long, long time,\" the wolf man said.\n\nHe paced through the dry leaves in great agitation, jerking his claws in spasmodic gestures. The performance was highly convincing. Stu looked on, wary and even somewhat frightened – like everyone else.\n\nWho the hell is this guy?\n\n\"Only three things can stop me,\" the creature said, \"wolf bane, the mountain ash, and . . .\"\n\nHe looked at the people, as if seeing them for the first time – eyes wild and mad. A growl rumbled in his chest.\n\nRrrrrr . . . Rrrrrr . . .\n\nSeconds passed. A woman giggled nervously, then fell silent. Children cringed against their parents. Eyes widened and faces tensed. Stu was getting rattled himself.\n\nWhy did I volunteer for this?\n\nHe looked toward Hank, who stood at the back of the crowd. Was he preparing to make a quick getaway? Stu wanted to get away himself, abandon his charges to the mercies of the night and to hell with this fundraising nonsense.\n\nInstead, he cleared his throat and addressed the monster. \"So, perhaps you can tell us what the third thing is, uh, Mr. Wolf Man?\"\n\nThe monster ignored the question.\n\n\"Not long ago, some people tried to catch me,\" he snarled. \"They were _never_ seen again!\"\n\nHe let out a piercing howl. _Wahoooo!_\n\nThe wolf man dashed through the crowd, knocking aside Dougie's father, and disappeared into the woods.\n\n\"You sonuvabitch!\" the dad cried.\n\nStu regained his badly shaken composure. He tried to smooth things out.\n\n\"Please try to understand, sir. It's dark and hard to see from under all that make up.\"\n\n\"Well, somebody's going to hear about this!\" The man looked to the others for support. \"This is one hell of a lousy show if you ask me.\"\n\nMurmurs of assent ran through the crowd.\n\nJackass! Why didn't you stay home with that brat of yours?\n\nStu turned and stalked off in disgust, outpacing the group.\n\nHank caught up with him. \"Take it easy, Stu. Slow down a little.\"\n\n\"Why do I get all the yo-yo's?\"\n\nHank shrugged helplessly.\n\n\"And who was that guy in the wolf man suit? He scared everybody half to death.\"\n\nHank shrugged again. \"I don't know.\"\n\n\"You don't know? Weren't you on the planning committee?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but... there're some new members I'm not familiar with. I was too busy to make all the committee meetings.\"\n\n\"Uh huh,\" Stu said \"Just get back there and keep them quiet, will you?\"\n\n\"Okay, okay.\" Indignation tinged Hank's voice. \"I'll do that.\"\n\nHe drifted to the rear of the crowd. Stu walked on alone, nursing his resentments – his cold, the ill-fitting mask, Dougie and his jerk father. After some minutes, a fork in the trail approached. A right turn seemed the most logical course.\n\nBetter consult Hank – try and patch things up with him, too.\n\nStu reached a hanky under his mask and wiped his dripping nose. He turned and looked back down the trail just in time to see a dark figure step out of the woods, grab Hank, and disappear with him.\n\nA gasp shot through the crowd. They rushed toward Stu. He suppressed an urge to flee the onslaught.\n\nCripe, of all the lame stunts!\n\nHe wondered if it had been planned from the start, or if one of the guys hanging around the woods decided to get cute. Either way, it was a stupid gimmick.\n\nA young girl pulled his robe. \"M-mister, some... thing grabbed him back there.\"\n\nStu patted her shoulder. \"Don't worry, it was just a little game.\"\n\nBut the others were shaken as well. Grim faces looked toward him out of the gloom.\n\n\"Hold on a minute, folks,\" Stu said. \"Don't let the special effects get to you. I remember hearing complaints a while ago that things were too fake.\"\n\n\"Of course it's fake,\" Dougie said in a pugnacious, though trembling, voice. He confronted the girl. \"What did you think it was, the Boogeyman?\"\n\n\"Why don't you shut up already?\" a woman cried shrilly from within the crowd.\n\nStu feared a reaction from Dougie's father, but the man only stood silently, his mouth clamped shut and his eyes wide. He looked terrified.\n\nStu removed his skull mask. \"Whew, I'm glad to get this thing off! See, I'm not as handsome as you thought I was.\"\n\nNobody laughed.\n\n\"Now, it's only a short way to the nature center.\" Stu tried to sound jovial. \"Let's hope they saved some hot cider for us.\"\n\nHe looked to the little girl. \"Do you like cider?\"\n\nShe retreated to her parents. \"Let's get out of here!\" she wailed.\n\nThe tour planners had clearly gone too far. This was supposed to be a fun event, but these people were really shaken. Nothing like this had happened last year when Stu had played a major role.\n\n\"Well, folks,\" he said, \"this has certainly been quite an evening.\"\n\nHe looked down the right hand trail. In the moonlight, he could see a little bridge over a creek.\n\nYes, that's the right way.\n\nThe troll was coming up next, then two more monsters. However, a short cut after the troll would allow them to bypass the remaining creatures.\n\nThe sooner we get back, the better.\n\n\"We've seen a lot of interesting things,\" he said cheerily. \"I'm sure this is a night to remember, for all of us.\"\n\nHe led the way down the right hand path. He was warming to his charges again, felt protective of them – even Dougie and his moron father.\n\n\"In a little bit, we'll see the troll,\" Stu said. \"He's the _last_ gentleman we'll meet tonight.\"\n\nHe'd directed this remark at the little girl, but she did not seem reassured.\n\n\"You've heard of the Three Billy Goats Gruff?\" he asked.\n\nThe girl said nothing.\n\n\"Well, that old troll never learns, and he's still living under that bridge.\"\n\nHe shined his light ahead on the foot bridge. \"That's his house right over there. Let me go on ahead and find him. Maybe he'll come up and say a few words.\"\n\nThe group waited as Stu walked alone onto the bridge. Its members were a rueful sight, clustered together in their pool of flashlight beams. The gigantic oaks hovered over them like a haunted cathedral.\n\nStu felt terrible. He hoped fervently that some idiot wasn't planning another shock for them. They'd clearly had enough.\n\n\"Come on up, Mr. Troll!\" he called. \"You've got visitors!\"\n\nHe leaned over the railing and shined his flashlight into the little stream below. Nobody was there. He directed his light over the other side. Still no one.\n\nDamn, we must have gone the wrong way!\n\nHe silently cursed Berry and his whole crew.\n\n\"Looks like we may have to backtrack a little,\" he said, trying to sound light-hearted. \"Maybe that troll decided to move without notice.\"\n\nHe unfolded his map and aimed his light down on it. The group advanced onto the bridge and crowded around. The girl's father looked over Stu's shoulder.\n\n\"Maybe the bridge we want is back the other way,\" he said.\n\n\"Could be,\" Stu said, \"unless there's another one farther on.\"\n\nHe trained his beam down the trail ahead.\n\nFrom the darkness behind them came a violent sound of cracking branches, followed by a heavy thud. Stu whipped his light over.\n\nHank!\n\nA shock wave of horror crashed into Stu; pain stabbed through his chest. His flashlight beam played over the mangled body, revealing every detail. Blood seeped from Hank's lacerated throat. The head lolled over. Terror-stricken eyes gaped at them, freezing everyone in shocked fascination.\n\n\"Oh God!\" a voice whimpered.\n\nA horrified moan shot through the crowd. They drew back slowly, inexorably. Their mass crushed Stu against the railing.\n\nSomebody ran off, others followed. Stu remained at the rail. He was trembling violently, his breath came in painful gasps. A hand gripped his throat, and the terrified face of Dougie's father loomed out of the moonlight.\n\n\"What's going on?\" The hand tightened on Stu's throat; the voice shot up an octave. \"What's happening?\"\n\nThe iron fingers tightened. Consciousness began to fade. With his last strength, Stu swung his flashlight around and hit the man hard in the face. The flashlight shattered, the iron grip relaxed.\n\nThe dark silhouette of Dougie's father stumbled back, jerking about like a demented marionette. A choked gurgle issued from its throat, then it disappeared into the darkness.\n\nStu was alone. His knees gave out, and he couldn't stop himself from sinking to the bridge planks. The night closed in to suffocate him. He slipped through the railing and hit the stream bed below.\n\nHe lay on his back staring into the sky. Chill water penetrated his robe. An airplane passed overhead, its red light flashing. With each flash, the light grew bigger, dominating more of the sky and filling it with lewd color. A scream pulsed within it, becoming louder with each beat.\n\nStu was on hands and knees scrambling up the embankment.\n\nMust get back . . . must get back!\n\nHeavy brush blocked the route. He detoured into the woods, stumbled through the trees. The pain in his chest stuck viciously. He ran on, feeling nothing under his feet. Unhuman pandemonium filled the darkness – screams, grunts... footsteps getting near.\n\nThe pain struck again. Stu tripped over something and tumbled to the ground. His snotty nose ran into his mouth. An idiot thought passed through his mind:\n\nI must take care of this cold.\n\nHe sprawled in the underbrush and awaited the approaching end. Wolf howls tore the air.\n\n# Healer\n\nAll children, born and unborn, are made in the holy image of God. – Stop the slaughter of the innocents, or Moloch prowls among us.\n\n1. The summons\n\nFather visited during the night.\n\nHe stood in my bedroom doorway pointing his dead finger at me, chattering and cajoling in words I could not understand. The old terror gripped my insides with an icy fist, and I could not banish it. By early morning, I'd struggled into a dreamless slumber when an alarm inside my head jarred me awake.\n\nI groan and stretch until my knuckles bang against the wall. My yawns blend into a cry of distress.\n\n_Ah . . . Ahhh . . . AhhHH_ HHHHHH!!\n\nFear and exhaustion lie with me in the bed. The _Power_ is taking control again.\n\nAn empty wine bottle sitting on the floor nearby serves as an ashtray. I dump it out onto an old section of newspaper and sift through the butts, selecting the longest one. After a moment's hesitation, I light up. The tobacco, supercharged with noxious gases, makes my thumping headache worse.\n\nIt's pointless to keep resisting.\n\nI fling aside the covers and get out of bed, perplexed to discover I'm fully dressed, including boots. The doorbell rings.\n\n\"What now?\"\n\nI stomp to the door and yank it open, surprising a paper boy on the porch.\n\n\"G-good morning, sir,\" he says in a barely audible voice. \"Would you like to re-subscribe to the _Clarion_?\"\n\nThe boy looks scared. My appearance must frighten him – wild hair, clothes twisted on my body, blanket fuzz clinging to my beard. I know what a mess I am.\n\n\"You can get the first month for only...\"\n\nThe kid's voice trails off. He thrusts a complimentary newspaper into my hands and retreats down the steps.\n\n\"The people on this route!\" he mutters.\n\nI toss the paper onto the sofa. The damn thing is so skinny, why bother? Get the news online – if I still had internet service and my laptop. Terrible luck, that boy coming by. Because of him, I had to open the door, demonstrating it's possible to leave the apartment. I don't want to leave, but now I must – on my mission.\n\nEven as these bitter thoughts occur, I know they are false. Of course I'll leave today, paper boy notwithstanding, as I've left on other occasions to chase my ruinous destiny.\n\nCan't I refuse, just this once? Why doesn't somebody stop me? There must be more to life than this. But something deep inside compels me to put on my coat, push open the door and trundle down the stairs into a late winter morning.\n\nI'll go downtown, like I did before.\n\nA short walk through the freezing wind gets me to the bus stop just in time. I wave vigorously, but the driver applies the brakes late and shoots past the sign. He's reluctant to pick me up, no doubt.\n\nWhen I enter the vehicle, he shrinks away as if from a pestilence. Can't say as I blame him. The bus is almost empty, and I speak to no one.\n\nTwo miserable hours wandering downtown fail to reveal any prospects. Winter has depopulated the streets. Even the busiest areas are mostly deserted, and anyone caught outside rushes past, returning to their warm offices or upscale cafés. Nobody wastes a glance at me.\n\nI approach the river until metal rails halt my progress. A strange and threatening mist hangs above the icy water. Moloch, or some other terrible god, stalks within that mist, aching to feed upon us. The sight holds me fast as the cold chills my face and numbs my limbs. I want to remain here until everything is over . . .\n\nA voice interrupts. \"Hey! You'd better get inside.\"\n\nIt's one of those River Walk cops, the guys who ride bikes in the warm weather patrolling for the tourists. What's he doing out here today? His eyes are set and determined, so I mumble something back and retreat.\n\nNearly done in by the cold, I enter a cheap cafeteria to thaw out. Its customers are down-at-heel, mostly elderly men. They sit at isolated tables, sipping coffee and staring off into space. I fit right into this world without hope. As I stare into my own cup of hot, black liquid, I address a plea to... something.\n\nYou see, I tried. It just won't work today. It's not my fault. Leave me alone, please!\n\nThe dominating urge gripping me ignores all appeals. It's becoming more powerful, growing impatient with my failures. I fling myself back into the streets until the frigid weather finally ends my search. I'm half frozen when I board a bus for a return to the suburbs.\n\nThe bus is paused at the traffic light by the community college when I spot her. She's exiting the main building via the parking lot door, walking slowly with a cane. Even from this distance, it's easy to see her body suffers a grave affliction. Her movements are slow and distorted. The wind seeks to knock her over, but she continues gamely into its embrace.\n\nI scan the area. Nobody else in sight. \"Let me off here!\"\n\nThe driver starts to protest that this isn't a regular stop, but he seems to think better of it and opens the door.\n\nShe doesn't notice me coming up from behind. She's standing by a pair of large shrubs looking out toward the parking lot entrance. I am quite near when I spy the couple looking out from the building's glass doors.\n\nDamn!\n\nThey seem in no hurry to leave their post, but stay put gazing out to the slushy parking lot. I try to appear natural, as if I'm simply waiting for a ride. The girl is fumbling with her scarf and drops her notebook. She stoops slowly to retrieve it. A Sun poking through the clouds gleams on her auburn hair. She notices me standing next to her.\n\n\"Hi,\" she says.\n\nI don't answer.\n\nA trace of alarm flickers in her eyes. Haven't I seen that often before? She stands up again, as straight as her body allows, and turns back to watching the entrance road at the far end of the parking lot.\n\nThe couple behind us finally leaves the door, but now a car is stopped at the entrance road waiting for the traffic to clear. I'm in grave danger of discovery now, but the power is incinerating me, bursting out on its own. My head throbs.\n\nI grab her shoulders and shake them hard. \"I'm here!\"\n\nThe girl's cane and notebook fall from her hands. A scream fails to make it out of her throat.\n\n\"Please . . . oh, God!\" she whimpers.\n\nBut I continue the manhandling. I can't control myself. The girl's head snaps back with each jolt. I reach an arm under her legs and lift her off the ground. A maniacal laugh bursts out of me as I toss her like a big rag doll.\n\nA car pulls up.\n\n\"Hey!\" the driver shouts.\n\nHe's coming at me. I dump the girl onto a shrub and take off for the athletic field beyond the parking lot. I'm not much of a runner, capture seems imminent . . .\n\n* * *\n\nLeo charged out of the car at the man attacking his sister. \"You sonuvabitch!\"\n\nHe was almost there when he slipped on the ice and went down hard. Sharp pain exploded in his rib cage. He sprawled on the pavement, unable to move, while Sharon wept hysterically in the branches.\n\nWhen the pain subsided a little, Leo struggled up and went to her. \"Don't worry, Sis. I got a good look at him. We'll find the bastard.\"\n\nHe helped her out of the shrub. The pain in his bruised ribs was so intense he didn't comprehend the truth at first. Then it hit him a sledgehammer blow. His disabled little sister was standing before him straight and normal.\n\n\"M-my God . . .\" he gasped. \"My God!\"\n\nHe wrapped her in his arms. She was almost too hot to touch. Looking over her head, he saw the Healer reach the end of the field and jump over a fence.\n\n2. Discovery\n\nI don't want to get up from the TV when the doorbell rings.\n\nIs it the cops?\n\nThe bell rings again. I wait for whoever it is to give up, but then the knocks come and the bell rings once more. I quaff a final drop from the bottle of cheap wine and get out of my chair. Somebody unpleasant must be at the door, like the apartment manager demanding rent.\n\nBut it's only a young woman standing in the early spring sunshine. She draws back when I open the door.\n\n\"Hi,\" she says.\n\nShe has a rolled newspaper in her hands and is wringing it like a dish rag. The bright sunshine makes me squint. The girl stares past me into the apartment. Confusion and awe attended her eyes.\n\n\"Well?\" I demand.\n\n\"I... uh...\"\n\n\"Whoever you want to see, you've got the wrong address.\"\n\nA profound silence envelopes the porch. Spring sunshine and apartment gloom contended for dominance.\n\n\"You're Richard Knox?\" the girl asks.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Then I came to see you.\" She holds up the newspaper. \"This was on your porch.\"\n\nI take the paper from her hand; it's damp with perspiration.\n\n\"I lied,\" the girl says. \"I bought it myself... sort of a calling card.\"\n\nI want to order her away, but she's too vulnerable and pretty for that. Some remote male yearning I've almost forgotten rises within me, keeping angry words from exiting my mouth. Besides, she looks vaguely familiar, and this makes me curious.\n\nThe best I can muster is an irritated frown. This makes her shrink back a step. She seems about to run off, but then she speaks again.\n\n\"May I come in, just for a few minutes? I thought we could talk a little.\"\n\nAgainst my will, I find myself stepping aside to allow her entry. _I know her, somehow_.\n\nShe stands in the middle of my living room, gazing around the shabby apartment with awe, as if she's entered a holy temple. What the hell's going on? She's trembling and biting her lip. I recognize her at last.\n\n\"Okay.\" I plop into my upholstered chair. \"How did you find me?\"\n\nShe looks my direction, her eyes wide and reverent. \"It wasn't hard. I got a good look at you that day. I wanted to come sooner, but... \"\n\nShe reaches out her hands. Before I can flinch away, she takes my face into them. \"You're the Healer. A true man of God.\"\n\nI twist my head away. \"I am not!\"\n\n\"Yes, you are.\"\n\nShe begins to weep.\n\n\"Hey, don't cry. I don't like that.\"\n\nI stalk into the kitchen, as far away from her as possible and shout from the doorway. \"It just happens! I have no control. It's hereditary.\"\n\nShe rushes forward and embraces me. I nearly lose my footing on the tile floor. \"You blessed my life. I love you so much.\"\n\nThings are going on I can't begin to understand. \"Look, I've got things to do. I have to leave.\"\n\nBut she won't let go. Her auburn hair is soft and sweet smelling. I find myself stroking it.\n\n\"Please don't turn me away,\" she murmurs.\n\nI never get to wherever it was I claimed to be going. At first, I refuse to talk. No, it's more than that. I _can't_ talk. Something is holding me back – a tightness in my chest, a gagging sensation in my throat. Sharon busies herself with tidying the apartment and doing my laundry while I remain planted in the chair.\n\nMy place is small, and it doesn't take her long to tidy it up. She sits on a footstool beside my chair and tells me about the acute challenges of her life – until the events of last winter that \"liberated my spirit.\"\n\n\"For some reason, I didn't want anyone to know,\" she says. \"I quit school and moved away; I cut off my old friends, such as they were. I'm taking online classes now, so nobody recognizes me.\"\n\n\"That's how it is,\" I'm surprised to hear myself say. \"I don't want anyone to know, either.\"\n\nHer ears perk up. She's waiting to hear more about my 'miraculous powers,' but I quickly change the subject.\n\n\"What about the rest of your family?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's just me and Leo now. Mom passed on two years ago and then Dad soon after. He never got over her death – the opioids... then the overdose.\"\n\nShe pauses. Again, I'm taken by her beautiful hair which had beckoned to me on that day.\n\n\"We've got a lot in common,\" I say, \"except for the brother part. I wish I had one.\"\n\n\"Yes, he's wonderful. He's always looked out for me, but I've decided not to pay attention any longer.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\nSharon studies the hands folded in her lap. She addresses her reply to them. \"My brother warned me not to look for you. He said it would be unwise. 'Things are going on we can't understand,' he told me.\"\n\nAnother pause. Her hands have a life of their own, twisting in her lap.\n\n\"Leo said you've been touched by the infinite, that your power is a 'two-way sword.'\"\n\n\"Maybe he's right.\"\n\nHer face turns up toward me. Its fierce expression makes me recoil. \"I don't care if he's right or not!\"\n\nShe seems astonished at her outburst. She smiles, and beautiful dimples appear in her cheeks.\n\n\"I told Leo not to worry about me. 'Get a life,' I said, 'find a girlfriend.'\"\n\n\"Did he?\"\n\n\"I hope so. Anyway, I'm giving him some breathing room – just send an occasional e-mail to say I'm all right.\"\n\nThings settle down, and the 'conversation' continues along more placid lines, interrupted by long, though not awkward, silences. Mostly it's Sharon talking, with me dodging questions about myself, my past life, and my \"gift.\"\n\nLunch time arrives, and she leaves to pick up some food. I get out of my chair. It's an old-man chair, full of aches and pains. I walk down to the laundry room and get my clothes from the dryer.\n\nThen a shower in my newly-scrubbed bathroom, followed by a beard trim. I consider shaving the whole thing off, but decide against such a radical approach. You can only remake yourself so much in one day. A smiling face looks back at me from the mirror. I haven't seen it in years.\n\n\"Well, hello again,\" Sharon says approvingly when she returns.\n\nShe's carrying enough Chinese take-out for lunch as well as dinner. She also hefts a grocery bag containing eggs and other breakfast items. The implication is clear.\n\n\"That's quite a load.\"\n\nI relieve her of the Chinese take-out. Sharon places the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and pulls out two bottles of wine.\n\n\"I didn't know what kind you prefer, so I got a white and a red.\"\n\nTo my utter amazement, I find myself wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her close. It's like some other guy is acting for me.\n\n\"As long as you come with it,\" I say, \"who cares what color the wine is?\"\n\n3. Respite\n\nSharon stretches luxuriously between the newly laundered sheets and cuddles against me. This is the first time for her, she's said, and it's been wonderful. What's there not to like about that? I bask in her admiration.\n\n\"So, how many others have there been?\" she inquires.\n\nA blush warms my face. \"Uh... girls? W-well... \"\n\n\"No, silly, I don't care about that.\" She gives me a playful nudge. \"I mean, people like me, that you've helped.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nColdness stiffens my body.\n\n\"I didn't mean to upset you, honey. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want.\"\n\nA damp shroud of silence falls upon the once cozy scene. Sharon curls into a ball and waits for me to reply. Finally, I speak.\n\n\"I try not to remember how many. Could be nine or ten by now.\"\n\n\"Did any of them visit you?\"\n\n\"Never.\"\n\nOr almost. There was that near confrontation, maybe two years ago, with another young woman. She'd come up to me on the sidewalk. Our eyes met, and we recognized each other. Then she lost her nerve and hurried across the street.\n\n\"I'm glad,\" Sharon says.\n\nA few minutes of uneasy silence pass before the warm glow returns. We draw together under the covers. Sharon hoists the wine glass from the nightstand. It's a delicate, stemmed piece which she selected during her shopping trip.\n\n\"I'm going to have your baby.\"\n\n\"What!\"\n\n\"Oh, I was just dreaming out loud.\" She takes a sip. \"Sorry to shock you. I mean... it's only natural to think in such terms, right?\"\n\n\"Can I have some of that?\"\n\n\"Sure, honey.\"\n\nShe raises the glass to my lips. The final contents go down my suddenly parched throat.\n\n\"Is there more?\" I ask.\n\n\"No, but I can rush out and get another bottle... just the way I am.\"\n\nShe flings off the covers. I burst out laughing, and tension exits the room.\n\n\"You'd better stay put. It's a bit cold out for the Lady Godiva routine.\"\n\nShe rolls onto her tummy. \"In that case, scratch my back.\"\n\nI do so, and she moans with contentment. Her beautiful nakedness fascinates me. My own body sprawled beside her looks like a dead fish, with hair. What can she possibly find attractive about _me_? She'd seemed like such a child earlier, standing on my porch wringing the newspaper. Not any more.\n\n\"You must be so lonely in this place,\" she says.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"It doesn't have to be that way, you know.\" She nestles closer. \"It shouldn't be, ever again.\"\n\nWe pull the covers over ourselves. Under the bedside lamp's subdued light, the tacky room looks appealing and cozy. I enjoy the warm glow of the wine and of Sharon's company. The grim realities of life fade into the distance.\n\nIt's a moment that ought to last forever, but of course it doesn't. Sharon wants answers from me, and she risks shattering the atmosphere to get them.\n\n\"Richard.\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Why are you so defensive about your wonderful gift?\"\n\nI'm prepared for her inquiry this time and offer a blunt reply. \"Because my 'gift,' as you call it, is killing me.\"\n\nSharon sits upright. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Every time I use it, there's less of me remaining.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe we can stop it, the two of us together.\" Hope pushes aside the alarm in her face. \"There has to be a deeper reason why you found me instead of somebody else. I can help you get over it.\"\n\nA melancholy smile crosses my face. \"I hope that's true, before I end up like Dad.\"\n\n\"He must have been a fine man. Tell me more about him.\"\n\nI go rigid. Why'd she have to say that? Why did I have to shoot my mouth off about him in the first place? I see again the pale and sunken face of my father. Before his death, he'd left me a chilling admonition:\n\n\" _The healer_ _must_ _heal, whether he wants to or not.\"_\n\n\"What's the matter, Richard?\"\n\nShe's right. The whole thing must be exposed to examination, in all its ugliness.\n\nMy voice comes out dead, flat. \"Father was a cruel and unreasonable man, at odds with the world.\"\n\nNo, this only scratches the surface; bring it all out.\n\n\"He was an evil son of a bitch – a frustrated serial killer.\"\n\nThe hairs on Sharon's neck prickle; she's covered with goosebumps.\n\n\"You want me to go on?\"\n\nShe nods. \"Y-yes, please.\"\n\nI seize the wine glass and pour a final drop down my throat. The delicate stem feels about to shatter in my grip.\n\n\"Dad was a war veteran. He said the combat terrified him, but he loved the killing part. He was always dreaming about it and wondering how he could start killing again without getting caught.\"\n\nSharon's eyes are wide and frightened in the dim light. She removes the wine glass from my hand. \"What about your mother?\"\n\n\"She left. She was terrified. I wonder if Dad killed her, somehow.\"\n\nTerrible, dark forces threaten the circle of love around the bed. Sharon holds on to save me from tumbling into it.\n\n\"Dad started having seizures. He found that he possessed an awesome healing power. He projected it onto random sick and disabled people – people he wanted to kill – but he cured them instead.\"\n\n\"How did he feel about that?\" Sharon asks in a tiny, scared voice.\n\n\"He said he'd been cursed, that some 'higher power' was punishing him. He hit the bottle hard – crashed the car into a bridge abutment. Suicide, I think.\"\n\nSharon's breath comes in tight little gasps. She wants to flee, I think, and never return – charge naked through the streets screaming. A powerful surge of love overwhelms us, and she holds me more tightly in her protective grasp.\n\n\"I was in foster care for a while,\" I say, \"then not long after getting out, I started having the seizures, too.\"\n\n\"Do _you_ think it's a punishment?\" Sharon asks.\n\n\"No. It's more like a judgement passed on me by some authority I can't understand. Like you're born into a crime family – it's not your fault, but you have to pay for somebody else's sins.\"\n\n\"I love you,\" Sharon says. \"I'll be here, whatever happens.\"\n\nHot tears come into her eyes, soon my own tears mix with them. We cling together for some time. Then Sharon unleashes her own demon.\n\n\"I'm an abortion survivor,\" she says quietly.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You heard right. Mom was very young, unmarried, yet she wanted to give birth. When it was clear I'd be handicapped, she caved under pressure and agreed to a late-term abortion.\"\n\nI'm too shocked to say anything. Compared to this horror, my own story sounds almost pleasant.\n\n\"But I was viable after they tore me out. Mom screamed for them to save me, so the abortionist chose not to stick the death needle in my heart.\"\n\nA deep groan climbs up from my soul. \"Ohhh.\"\n\n\"I'm no abortion! I never was. What right did those bastards have to kill me? What kind of 'doctor' would do that?\"\n\nWe lay together a long while. I stroke her hair and try to think of soothing words, but can only come up with more questions.\n\n\"What about your brother?\"\n\n\"Leo's my step-brother, from the family that took me in. They've all been great.\"\n\n\"They sure sound like it.\" Another, more disturbing, question occurs. \"Why did they tell you about the abortion attempt?\"\n\n\"My birth mother asked them to tell me. She wanted me to avoid her mistakes.\" A deep sigh. \"In a way, I always knew. Don't ask me how that's possible.\"\n\nSharon is sitting upright, gazing hard at me. She seems much older, somehow. \"The most important thing I learned from them is, _don't_ despair, no matter how bad things might seem. You get that?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I wish Dad could have held out.\" Sharon rubs her eyes with both palms, as if trying to dispel a nightmare. \"He was always the strong one, but... those damned opioids! Abortion, any time for any reason – killer drugs, assisted suicide. What kind of death culture do we have?\"\n\nI've got no answer, just a shrug.\n\n\"Well, this is sure depressing,\" Sharon says. \"Wait a sec, I'll be right back.\"\n\nShe bounds from the bed and out the door, her body an incredible vision of loveliness. My world is frigid without her, but she soon returns.\n\n\"I bought this as a thank-you gift.\"\n\nShe clamps a gold bracelet onto my wrist. It glitters in the dim light. The front portrays a sunburst with a human face. Its smile is benign and mysterious.\n\n\"Thanks, it's beautiful.\"\n\nI give her a kiss. Any excuse for a kiss.\n\n\"My phone and email are etched on the back – just so you don't forget.\"\n\n\"Okay, great.\"\n\n\"No more talking now, okay Richard?\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nI turn over on my back. Sharon moves her head to my shoulder, and the last of her tears dry on my chest. She's on the verge of sleep, but I'm agitated by the catharsis we have undergone.\n\nCarefully sliding myself from under Sharon's head, I get up and make for the bathroom where I rinse my face in cascades of luxurious warm water. I barely recognize myself in the mirror. The dour, gaunt features have softened remarkably, and color had begun to return to my pallid face.\n\n\"Handsome devil.\"\n\nI breath deeply, and years of premature aging drop away. New power and vitality are taking over. Even my gangly hands look different.\n\nThen, another face appears in the mirror – the insane visage of Father with its burning eyes and crooked mouth. His skin is ghastly pale. I can almost smell liquor on his breath.\n\n\" _You have to be sick in order to heal others,\"_ he says. _\"Don't you know that?\"_\n\nThe face that had once terrified me holds no power now. It's absurd, cruel, dead.\n\nI bark a scornful laugh. \"I'm whole now. Don't bother me again, you bastard!\"\n\n\" _If_ _I'm_ _a bastard, what does that make you, son?\"_\n\n\"Better than you ever were, for damn certain – _dad_.\"\n\nI rap my knuckles on the glass. The ugly visage explodes, and I'm staring at my own reflection. It looks a bit absurd, too, and I laugh again.\n\n4. Fate takes a hand\n\nSharon is asleep when I return to bed with the newspaper. I'm wide awake, maybe a little reading can help wind me down. It doesn't take long. By the sports scores, I'm beginning to nod. An attempt at the crossword puzzle proves too demanding.\n\nI drop the pages on the carpet and flick the lamp switch. The parking lot's floodlight provides the only illumination now. I close my eyes to blot it out and roll over to cuddle with my woman . . .\n\nA scream explodes in my brain.\n\nNO!!\n\nMy body lurches out of bed and thumps on the floor. The covers come with me. Sharon moans and turns over, but does not awaken.\n\n\"Mmm.\"\n\nShe lies on her side, facing me. She's back to the way she was – like the first time I'd seen her standing alone outside the community college.\n\nIt can't be! It can't be!\n\nI switch on the table lamp again. Sharon turns away from the light but still does not awaken. I run my hands over her precious body, now so cruelly distorted. I clamp my eyes shut.\n\nChange her back! I'll go away... anything, just change her back!\n\nMinutes of terror pass before I gain the courage to look at her. Sharon is prone now, snoring slightly. Her body is restored and healthy. I sag with relief; then bitter tears well in my eyes.\n\nDamn it. Why did you have to come here?\n\nAll the others understood the necessity of staying away, but not Sharon. Love had carried her beyond all doubt and reason.\n\nFather's laughter echoes throughout the apartment, shouting that love is not for me. Anything I embrace will suffer. I dress quickly and throw together a few possessions, making quite a racket. Sharon sleeps on in the grip of the powerful forces determining her fate.\n\nI pause at the bedroom door. An overwhelming urge to remain comes over me; I take a step back. A wavering distortion hovers in the air above her, and she begins to transform.\n\nAll right! I'm going!\n\nDawn is beginning as I stride across the lot to my battered car. All the birds are awake and screeching; their cacophony thunders in my ears with the old command:\n\n\" _The Healer must heal! the Healer must heal!\"_\n\nFrom father to son. Sharon is the perpetuator of the line. She sought me out for that reason. After me, a new healer will arise.\n\nAs the miles pass along my flight, another thought occurs: _\"Don't despair, no matter how bad things might seem.\"_\n\nThe gold bracelet warms my wrist, seeking to offer comfort. Who am I amid all this mystery and suffering? Just a man seeking answers. And when I find them, I'll return.\n\n# Bear Country\n\n1. The tyrant returns\n\nTom, the son-in-law, looked out the kitchen window at little Susie playing in the snow. She didn't notice him and would have continued building her miniature snowman had she not seen her father coming up the path.\n\nShe smiled and stood up. There was a weave to the man's walk, though, and this frightened the child. Instead of running to greet him, she dashed into the cottage.\n\nHer mother saw the little girl's agitation and said: \"Your father's home?\"\n\nThe other two children stiffened in their seats, and Tom crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray.\n\nA moment later, the door banged open and a large, enormously fat man – 350 pounds at least – entered the kitchen and shook snow from his shoulders and boots.\n\n\"Little snip ran from me like I was the Boogey Man,\" he laughed. \"Susie, it's me! No abominable snowman tonight!\"\n\nThe group around the kitchen table relaxed a bit. The big man picked up the child in his beefy arms. She detected the booze on his breath and wrinkled her nose.\n\nThe wife ventured, \"We're having the left-over roast beef, Bill. Coffee's ready too.\"\n\n\"Sounds good, Janet,\" Billy replied.\n\nHe kicked off his boots and rubbed his hands together. \"Looks like that warm spell is over. We'll be ice fishing again soon.\"\n\nRichard's face brightened at the mention of ice fishing, but quickly grew solemn again.\n\n\"I got the insulation in the back bedroom done,\" Tom said. \"We can start the paneling tomorrow.\"\n\nBilly glanced at the young man, a flash of exasperation in his eyes. \"Glad to hear that. Hope we've got enough nails for the job.\"\n\nHe slipped his liberated feet into a pair of loafers and took his place at the table.\n\nTom felt strong, rooted to his chair, one rolled up hand atop the table. _I'd like to hammer_ _you_ _to the wall,_ he thought, tightening his fist.\n\n\"Seems to be plenty of nails,\" he said.\n\nAn awkward silence ensued.\n\n\"Salt, please,\" Richard said.\n\nHe and Pam sat on their side of the table. The young teens looked very similar, almost like twins. Only the eldest sister Joyce, Tom's wife, was absent from the family gathering.\n\nJoyce had suggested this \"fence-mending\" mission – spend the long weekend getting on her parents' good side by helping them remodel their north woods cottage. They were still upset about her and Tom's recent elopement, and they needed some favor-currying.\n\nConveniently enough, she'd gotten sick at the last minute, leaving Tom to appear alone. Funny how she so often got sick or busy when it came time to see her parents.\n\n\"Go on without me, I'll be alright,\" she'd said. \"It's just a little touch of flu.\"\n\nSo Tom had come. He could never refuse when it came to Joyce. He'd quit smoking for no other reason than that she'd wanted him to. It was only since he'd been pushed into this tense situation that he'd lit up again.\n\nBilly's eyes narrowed and regarded Tom over their coffee cup rim. Tom stared boldly in return.\n\n\"Uh, Bill,\" Janet said, \"have they salted the road down at South Shore yet?\"\n\n\"Don't know. Didn't come that way.\"\n\n\"What way did you come?\"\n\nIt was a silly question, since there was only one other route he could have taken from town. Billy acknowledged it with a snort. This gesture of contempt cut off any further discussion, and the meal passed in silence. Tom excused himself as soon as possible.\n\nHe took his coffee cup to the adjoining living room and spread out in the recliner near the fireplace. According to Joyce, this fireplace had once been a cheery locale with glass doors through which you could watch the flames. Now it was occupied by an energy-efficient iron box with a door like that of a cremation oven. Fire hissed and crackled behind a tiny window in that door.\n\nTom flicked the TV remote – a quiz show was on – and extended the recliner's footrest. His leg was acting up. The old injury seldom caused much problem these days, but now the ache was fierce. He lit another cigarette.\n\nTalk began in the kitchen. Tom increased the TV volume to cover the chatter. Still, he could just barely hear the conversation if he strained his ears. He couldn't help but strain now and then.\n\n\"I saw Florin in town today,\" Billy was saying.\n\n\"Are they still coming over Saturday night?\" Janet asked.\n\n\"Yeah. He told me he'd like to remodel his place, too, but couldn't afford it. Where's all this money he's supposed to have?\"\n\n\"You know they have two boys in college. There must be a lot of expenses.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Billy lowered his voice, almost too low for Tom to hear. \"And either would have made a good catch for Joyce. So who does she pick? A factory hand from DEE-troit.\"\n\nTom flinched. Nobody had to tell him his assembly line job was tough and demeaning, despite the good pay. He wanted more and was beginning Electrical Engineering classes when spring term came. He'd have to work nights to free up time for study, but he could meet the challenge. The Navy had taught him discipline and provided training which could be credited toward the college degree.\n\nHe and Joyce planned to spring the good news this weekend, but now Tom didn't feel motivated to confide in his in-laws.\n\nHeat from the cremation oven caused him to strip to his T shirt, revealing his powerful arms and chest. Tom was not a large man, but quite strong. He'd been a wrestler in high school and a boxer in the Navy; he'd maintained his physique well. Once in a while some jerk at the assembly plant would misread Tom's compact size and slight handicap and try to hassle him. Nobody ever made that mistake twice.\n\n\"Hey Gimp!\" somebody had said a few weeks ago. \"Give me a hand here.\"\n\n\"Sure thing,\" Tom said.\n\nThe 'hand' he offered was rolled into a fist and slugged into the man's gut with enough force to nearly rupture his spleen. When the guy returned to work, he requested a different assembly line station, far removed from Tom.\n\nA bedroom door banged open down the hall, and Sam came bounding through, tail thumping on the floor. The little mongrel approached the table, clearly delighted to be out of its confinement. The youngsters froze in horror; their mother's face recoiled, as if anticipating a slap.\n\nBilly gaped at the animal. His eyes bulged out of a reddening face.\n\n\"What's _that_ doing in here?\" he bellowed, \"I said that dirty thing should never be in the house!\"\n\n\"But Dad, it's cold outside,\" Richard protested.\n\n\"Enough from you!\"\n\nBilly grabbed Richard by the shirt and jammed his fist into the boy's throat hard enough to make him gag. \"I told you not to bring in these strays. I'm not fixing up this place to be a dog pound!\"\n\n\"Dear, they just thought he'd freeze out there,\" Janet pleaded. \"I was going to tell you.\"\n\n\"That's right, Daddy,\" Pam added in a trembling voice.\n\nBilly released his grip on Richard. The boy pushed his chair away from the table and coughed from the rough handling he'd received. Susie fled to the bedroom from which the puppy had just come. These expressions of defeat seemed to calm Billy.\n\nHe spoke in a quieter tone. \"Get it out of here before I dump it in the lake.\"\n\nJanet quickly obeyed, opening the door and motioning to Sam. The puppy hesitated, yipping and wagging its tail. Billy shot out his leg and, with agility surprising for a man of his bulk, sent the dog flying with a kick.\n\nThings settled down again. Billy looked out toward Tom in the living room. A slight, taunting smile came over the young man's face; he broadened his shoulders in a slow stretch.\n\nJust you and me, fat man. Two minutes is all I want.\n\n2. Things settle down\n\nThe next day went a lot easier on Tom's nerves. No additional flare-ups occurred, and they managed to do a lot of work on the renovations. Billy seemed to have exhausted his reserve of meanness and was staying sober.\n\nHis in-laws were upgrading this cottage into a second home. They'd bought it from an elderly man who'd had to sell quick without driving too hard a bargain. Tom wondered if the previous owner had been Stanley, a resident at the convalescent home where he'd worked during his layoff.\n\nBilly had a rough sort of charisma that was quite engaging. He would have made a good foreman at the plant, somebody the men would have liked and respected – as long as he kept off the bottle.\n\nTom resisted getting sucked in by the charm and maintained his customary cool, polite exterior. As much as he desired good relations with his in-laws, he could not get the previous night's scene out of his mind. The crass brutality offended him to the core. What kind of upbringing had Joyce gotten from this family – the dictator father, the timid and frightened mother?\n\nThe elopement had been Joyce's idea. They'd been driving to San Diego for a vacation when she'd suggested they stop off at Las Vegas to get married. Tom had agreed, but he couldn't help wondering why she would cut her family out of the event.\n\nNow he knew. He also knew why she often slept so fitfully and had nightmares.\n\n* * *\n\nMore snow came, giving the outdoors a cheery Christmas-like ambiance. Pam and Richard agitated for a sledding trip to Rocker Hill, and Tom agreed to take them Saturday for some moonlight runs. The kids were delighted to get outdoors and avoid a boring evening at home with the Florins.\n\nWhile at the sledding hill, Tom resisted calls to join the fun and contented himself with watching the teenagers enjoy themselves. Sometimes they sat together on the long wooden sled; other times Richard went solo, lying prone and howling all the way.\n\n_These kids are great!_ Tom thought. _How'd they ever get such a jerk for a dad?_\n\nThe world seemed pleasantly serene under the moon and the area lights strung along the trees. Tomorrow would be the last day of this trial. If only things stayed on an even keel until then. Tom planned to work until mid afternoon, then make a quick getaway. He'd hardly known his in-laws before this weekend, and he knew them far better than he wanted to now – except for the kids. They were like the younger siblings he never had.\n\nEven if it weren't for his screwy in-laws, Tom would be anxious to leave. He was a city guy, and the quiet solitude of this northern area got on his nerves. The blank, semi-wilderness seemed to lack things necessary to sustain life – the same way the family lacked human warmth. This was all _Bear Country_ to Tom. He hoped he'd never have to return.\n\nHe stamped his feet against the cold and wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck. It was a long and rugged thing, knitted for him by Joyce. It radiated her love. He was just about to change his mind and venture a sled ride when the fun abruptly ended.\n\nWham!\n\nThe sled crashed against a tree.\n\nTom trotted downhill to the young people sprawled in the snow. \"Are you okay?\"\n\n\"I think so,\" Richard said.\n\nHe rose and brushed himself off. Tom assisted Pam to her feet; she was equally unhurt, fortunately.\n\n\"That was quite a show,\" Tom said. \"Is there an admission charge?\"\n\nHis attempt at humor fell flat. The two siblings stared grimly at the sled with its broken runner.\n\n\"Dad's gonna be _really_ pissed,\" Pam said. \"He just bought that.\"\n\n\"Yeah...\" Richard agreed.\n\nThe boy seemed to be shaking, and not from the cold.\n\n\"Let's go,\" Tom said.\n\n3. Fun and games\n\nThey pulled up to the cottage. The kids jumped out and started a snowball fight, their good cheer restored. Tom lifted the sled from the back of his pickup. Fortunately, the general store was still open, and he'd managed to purchase a new sled identical to the broken one. Billy would have no reason to go ballistic now – not that he ever needed a reason.\n\nPam and Richard burst into the house, breathless and red faced.\n\n\"On the back porch!\" Janet called.\n\nThey retreated to the screened-in porch to strip off their wet clothes. Tom hung his jacket and scarf on a wall hook over a jumble of boxes and assorted junk, then unlaced his boots and kicked them off. He advanced alone into the house, limping slightly. Billy, with Susie son his lap, was at the kitchen table playing cards with Jack Florin.\n\nMr. Florin was a large, bald-headed man with a big cigar in his mouth. The kitchen exhaust sucked the smoke out into the piney woods. The women were in the living room chatting over coffee.\n\n\"This is our son-in-law, Tom,\" Janet introduced, glancing at his holey socks with disapproval.\n\n\"Thought I'd dress for the occasion,\" Tom wisecracked as he shoved his feet into a pair of loafers.\n\nMr. Florin seemed amused at this and broke out in chuckles. \"Hey, I can still laugh with cards like these! Nice to meet you, Tom.\" He extended a hand.\n\nTom took an instant liking to the man. Jack Florin came across as good-humored and friendly, someone you'd feel comfortable around. So why was he pals with a slug like Billy?\n\n_He's been suckered by the charm_.\n\nThen there were his two sons in college that Billy had targeted as potential mates for Joyce. Well, maybe the charm offensive would be coming to an end now.\n\n\"If you'll excuse me, I need a shower,\" Tom said. \"Those kids put me through quite a workout.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute, young man,\" Florin said, \"can you play Rummy?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"Grab a chair then. Billy's been kicking my tail. Maybe my luck will improve if we play cut throat.\"\n\nTom hesitated. Pam and Richard dashed noisily toward the bathroom, jockeying for first rights.\n\n\"See, you'll have to wait for that shower anyway.\" Florin gestured toward Susie. \"I'm not going to let you use her next time, Bill. She knows more about this game than either of us.\"\n\nBilly chuckled and held out a sausage-like finger to the child. Her tiny hand wrapped around it.\n\n\"Yeah, deal in,\" Billy invited with a wave of his beer can.\n\nHe actually sounded friendly. Maybe the past couple days working together on the renovations had paid off. Maybe Tom was 'one of the boys' now.\n\nAgain, he resisted getting won over by the charm. Tom vividly recalled the fear on Richard's face when the sled broke, the immense relief he and Pam displayed when they'd obtained a replacement.\n\n\"Well... okay.\" Against his better judgement, Tom sat down at the table.\n\nBilly's luck cooled in the new 3-way game. Tom quickly assumed control with Billy in a fading second place.\n\n\"I knew you'd bring me luck, Tom,\" Florin said, \"and so you did. All of it bad!\"\n\nBilly grew quiet and moody each time he lost a hand. He made trips to the refrigerator for beer, which was a bad omen. Janet looked over occasionally with apprehension in her eyes.\n\nTom tried to ease up, but the same spirit which had carried him through tough wrestling bouts and boxing matches prevented him from throwing the game. He was drinking now, too, and it brought out his reckless streak.\n\nStill, he realized a tactful exit from the game was necessary. Florin just wouldn't give him a chance. He kept up a constant stream of banter that left little opening for Tom to slip away.\n\n\"You know, I've lived around here all my life,\" Florin observed at one point, \"but I still can't stand the winters. Weather like this makes me wish I was back in the Philippines.\"\n\n\"Oh, Jack,\" Mrs. Florin objected from the living room. \"Nobody wants to hear your old military stories,\"\n\n\"Lovely place, the Philippines,\" Florin continued, ignoring his wife's objection. \"Always warm and friendly.\"\n\n\"It certainly is nice,\" Tom said.\n\n\"You've been there?\"\n\n\"Yeah, when I was in the Navy.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Florin's eyes took on a devilish flare. \"Great women there, eh? I know that's one thing that couldn't have changed any.\"\n\nA loud throat clearing from Mrs. Florin made him change the subject quick. \"So... how long were you in the Navy, Tom?\"\n\n\"Just two years. I got banged up in a shipboard accident. They gave me a partial disability because of my leg.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Florin attended to his cigar. \"I'm sorry to hear that.\"\n\n\"It's not too bad, just slowed me down a little.\"\n\n\"Yeah, he's in great shape,\" Billy said as he drained his latest can of beer. \"He just won't be running any Memorial Day races.\"\n\nTom did not try to conceal the contempt in his eyes, but he said nothing. Billy pretended not to notice and busied himself with Susie. The humming exhaust fan tried to fill the tense silence.\n\n\"Well,\" Florin said, attempting to sound jocular. \"I'd say some of us aren't in the greatest shape either!\" He reached over and patted Billy's enormous gut. \"Deal the cards Big Guy.\"\n\nThis remark also flopped. Although Florin remained sportive, his opponents had turned sullen. Tom cut loose on Billy and used every trick to do him in, going so far as to feed important cards to Florin.\n\n\"Off Daddy's lap,\" Billy said midway into the next game.\n\n\"Can't I watch?\"\n\n\"No, go visit in the living room.\"\n\nSusie jumped down and went to her mother. Billy moved to the refrigerator for a fresh supply of beer.\n\n\"I'm floating already!\" Florin protested, but he took a can anyway.\n\nTom began to play with greater abandon. In every face card he saw Richard's terrified visage, Pam and Susie's fear, Joyce's contorted face when she swam up from a nightmare. He laughed and banged his fist on the table every time he won a hand. Florin enjoyed the sport and joined in. Only Billy didn't like it.\n\nMrs. Florin intervened. \"Let's get going, Jack. We have to get an early start tomorrow to see the boys at State.\"\n\nBilly glowered at the mention of the college boys. He shot a covetous glance at Florin which the latter didn't notice. Tom noticed, though, and it gave him perverse satisfaction.\n\nThe visitors took their leave. Florin was in no condition to drive, and his wife had some difficulty maneuvering their big Lincoln out of its parking space. She finally made it, coached by Billy from his position in the doorway. Then she was off with wheels spinning in the snow.\n\n\"Hope you get stuck,\" Billy muttered.\n\n4. Confrontation\n\nHe'd barely reentered the house when Janet called out: \"Oh, Bill, we're low on firewood, could you bring some in?\"\n\n\"Yeah, just a minute,\" Billy said irritably. \"Let me get my boots on.\"\n\nBilly brought in his heavy boots and plopped onto a kitchen chair. He kicked his loafers into a corner with precise, violent motions.\n\nSince he was too obese to reach down very far, Billy used a long set of pliers to grip the boot tops. Tom smirked at this and was just drunk enough not to care whether Billy noticed.\n\n\"What's so funny?\" Billy demanded.\n\n\"Oh nothing,\" Tom said, \"you kind of remind me of the Tin Man with that wrench.\"\n\n\"That's real clever.\"\n\n\"I thought so too.\"\n\nBilly reddened and gave a final mighty tug. The boot slid into place. \"If you're so damn clever, how come you're still an assembly line stiff?\"\n\n\"Well forgive me _sir_.\" Tom stood up. \"You don't impress me as any great genius either.\"\n\n\"I'm smart enough to see my daughter doesn't know much about picking men. The little dope.\"\n\nTom was too furious to reply. He ached to knock Billy out of his chair.\n\n_Don't hassle with him,_ an internal voice warned. _The bastard isn't worth it_.\n\nTom made a deep, mocking bow and stalked off to his room. In a few minutes, he'd thrown his things together and was ready to leave. He was just coming out the bedroom when Billy re-entered the house with a load of firewood in his arms.\n\nBilly pushed the door shut with his foot. The nudge wasn't enough to close it, though. Sam wriggled his way in. Before anyone noticed, the little mongrel was at the fireplace, shaking and trying to warm itself by the iron door.\n\n\"Goddammit!\" Billy exploded.\n\nHe threw the wood down and aimed a kick at the dog. Sam dashed out of the way. The foot sailed past and slammed into the fireplace bricks instead.\n\n\"I broke my foot!\" Billy plopped to the floor. \"Goddam dog!\"\n\nHe would have nursed his foot if he could have reached it. The family raced in from their various hiding places and gathered round. Janet advanced to help.\n\n\"Keep away, leave me alone!\" Billy roared.\n\nThe children cowered against a wall. Susie motioned to the dog, but it was hiding under a chair and refused to budge. This was an opportune moment for Tom to slip out unnoticed, but he couldn't help gaping at the grotesque scene.\n\nBilly was standing again, gingerly testing his injured foot. Janet shrank before him, leaving him master of the situation.\n\n\"I said,\" he intoned slowly, \"that this animal was to stay outside.\"\n\nHe snatched Sam from his hiding place. With a couple of long, hobbling strides he had the whimpering dog in the kitchen where he rummaged a burlap sack from under the sink.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" Janet cried.\n\n\"What do you think? This mutt's going for a swim.\"\n\nThe kids erupted into howls of protest. \"Daddy, you can't! It's not his fault!\"\n\nBilly tossed the puppy into the sack, added his boot wrench for weight, and tied it shut. Then he bulled his way out through the door. Susie threw herself on the couch and thrashed about, crying. Richard and Pam wept more quietly while their mother sat in a chair, a look of stunned exhaustion on her face.\n\nTom pulled the drape aside on the picture window. He could see Billy striding in the moonlight, heading across the frozen lake toward the fishing shanties.\n\nMy God, he's really going to do it!\n\nTom dashed onto the porch. He grabbed for his coat and scarf hanging on their hook. The coat fell away and disappeared behind the junk boxes.\n\n\"Damn!\"\n\nNo time to retrieve it or to lace on his boots. With only the scarf for protection against the cold, Tom flung himself through the door and tramped over the snow in his loafers.\n\nHe trembled as he charged through the biting wind onto the lake – not from the cold, but in anticipation of the blows he'd strike to Billy's face, spraying blood over the ice. Just as well he'd left the coat behind, he could throw better punches without its constraints.\n\nHe was enraged at the terror this evil man was creating. My God, what must Joyce's childhood have been like? What had this monster done to her over the years? Come what may, he would pound that bastard to within an inch of his life.\n\n\"Stop!\" he yelled.\n\nBilly turned to face him. Tom began to run, but his slippers gave little traction. Several paces short he fell, slamming his knee against a jagged outcrop. Pain shot through his entire body as he writhed on the ice.\n\n\"Umph!\" Billy grunted disdainfully. He turned and continued walking.\n\n\"Sonuvabitch!\" Tom called, his voice lost in the wind.\n\nA loud _Crack!_ reverberated through the ice like a shout from the devil. Billy froze in his tracks... too late.\n\nThe ice, not yet recovered from the warm spell, caved in beneath him. The bag flew from his hands and skidded several feet away.\n\n\"Help!\" Billy fought to scramble up the edge of a gaping hole.\n\nTom managed to stand, then immediately flattened himself as another _Crack!_ shot through the ice. He crawled toward his father-in-law who was losing his battle and would soon slip below the surface.\n\nTom yanked off his scarf and threw one end toward the hole. Billy reached desperately toward the lifeline. Not long enough. Tom crawled closer toward the struggling man and prepared to heave the scarf again. Then he hesitated . . .\n\n* * *\n\nBack at the cottage, Susie had calmed a bit and was sobbing quietly into the sofa cushions. The other kids hung onto their mother's hands. Janet looked utterly crushed and many years older than she was.\n\nTom observed them through the window. He was nearly frozen, and his knee throbbed painfully. The dog in his arms was fine, though – wrapped in the scarf all warm and dry.\n\nHe opened the door.\n\n# The White River Terror\n\n\"We're going the wrong way!\" I yell for the third time.\n\nBob, the idiot handling the stern paddle, begs to differ. \"I'm following Alex, so shut your damn mouth, already!\"\n\nYes, Alex, our intrepid leader in the first canoe. He's already entered the left river fork. His 'rebel yell' echoes back, grating my ears like fingernails on a coffin lid.\n\n\"Yip-yip-yee-aaah!\"\n\nI consult my map again. Heck, there shouldn't _be_ a fork here! In any case, the broad channel on the right is clearly the main river. Why did Alex go down the narrow left passage? Because he's drunk again, no doubt. I hear the roar of approaching rapids. The rebel yell turns into a scream.\n\n\"Yip-yip . . . ahhHHH!\"\n\nI look toward Bob. \"We gotta turn back, _now!_ \"\n\nBob isn't very attentive. His eyes are wide with fear, and his paddle is frozen in mid-stroke.\n\n\"Dammit!\" I say.\n\nThere's nothing I can do. The current is too strong, and we're headed into the rapids. I glance at the steeply rising left bank. A portage trail runs along it. A sign is tilted downward.\n\nShould've took the trail\n\nNITWIT!\n\nWe're in the rapids now. Our canoe bangs against a towering rock face and nearly pitches over. We're going through a tight chute, hemmed in by more rocks. They bear silvery patches where earlier canoes have scraped. I maneuver as best I can. Who knows what Bob is doing?\n\nSomehow, we make it through the worst part. I begin to think that, just maybe, we'll survive this cataract. Then we hit a submerged obstruction and go over.\n\nI'm swimming in calmer water now, observing our scattered possessions drift past. My life jacket gives reassuring buoyancy. Flailing idiots surround me. They make for the left bank. I reluctantly follow.\n\n* * *\n\nA word of advice for anyone considering a wilderness canoe expedition: Don't sign up blindly like I did; make sure you know something about the people you're going with.\n\nI simply bought into the tour organization's assurance that \"compatible individuals\" would be selected for the trip. And missing the \"get acquainted\" meeting didn't help things. If I'd met these guys earlier, I might have wised up.\n\nNow I'm stuck with these five yo-yo's. We're sitting around a campfire drying out, and night is closing in. Our miserable evening meal is finished, and the junk talk is beginning. As usual, it's about scoring women, getting drunk, and being a macho jerk.\n\nNot much said about our predicament, despite the fact we've lost one canoe and most of our provisions.\n\n\"Hey, the canoe's insured, right?\" Alex observes. \"The outfitter will be glad to replace it. We'll just have to double up for a while, is all.\"\n\nOr so he thinks. I'm more convinced than ever we've taken a wrong turn, and not just on the river. It's like we've entered another world – however half-baked that sounds. The stars coming out don't look normal; their patterns seem off. I wish I'd studied astronomy more so I could tell for sure.\n\nThe trees appear flat in the declining light, like they're stage props. The water moving along the bank has a subdued noise, as if it's coming from far away. My mind must be playing tricks, so I turn it to more practical purposes – like how I'm going to ditch this bunch of losers tomorrow morning and get back to the main channel.\n\nBut wait! First there's the _absolutely fascinating_ story Bob is telling about an unpleasant gentleman called, \"The White River Terror.\" Seems I'm not the only one imagining things.\n\nAs Bob gets into the story, though, I begin to follow with some interest.\n\n\"The _Terror_ is a serial killer and cannibal rolled into one,\" he says with a subdued voice. \"It stalks the wilderness in solitude, carrying off the unwary intruder. Word has it the thing is immortal.\"\n\nAlex snorts. \"Where'd you dig that up, Bob? Sounds like an urban legend of the North Woods!\"\n\nHe laughs sarcastically, but the others don't follow his lead.\n\n\"Let him finish, man, okay?\" Mel says.\n\n\"All right, but don't say I didn't warn you.\"\n\nAlex sounds ticked. Maybe he's trying to cover for his stupid decision back at the rapids. How about a rebel yell for 'Idiot of the Year?'\n\n\"It's like this,\" Bob says, \"people have been sighting the _Terror_ since before World War One. The first incident was back during...\"\n\nI'm usually up for a good thriller story, and this one doesn't sound bad. It's the lousy company I can't stomach. The vibe coming from these people is starting to gag me. I feel claustrophobic. Time to make an exit.\n\nI get slowly to my feet and move away from the fire. But just as I've nearly completed an unnoticed departure, I have to trip on a tent line and crash over a pile of cooking utensils. Startled faces whip around. Their expressions become derisive.\n\n\"Hey, Nitwit!\" Mel shouts. \"Where you off to now?\"\n\n\"Probably looking for some tail!\" Alex says.\n\n\"Let me tell you, buddy,\" another scholar says. \"This is Nowhere-ville, and you sure ain't gonna find action around here.\"\n\nThey all laugh like hyenas – louts, drinkers of cheap beer, deplorable cigarette smokers! As I stumble off into the gloom, I hear various muttered endearments such as, \"dick head!\" \"klutz!\" and \"effing wise ass!\"\n\nThanks, guys. I'd have to say their abuse has gotten worse over the past week, if not more creative. With luck, I might be able to deck one of those bastards, but all five? At least they seem to be \"compatible individuals\" for each other.\n\nIt's difficult to avoid people when you're all stuck in 'Nowhere-ville.' The closest I can come to ridding myself of their company is by taking a walk.\n\nThe theme of this evening's stroll is the pleasant thought that in one more day the trip will be over and the outfitter will come to get us. I envision stomping the gas in my car and speeding away from these morons. But the wrong turn at the river fork has complicated everything.\n\nThe others have already refused to turn around, so I'm on my own. I'd like to carry a canoe back over the portage trail to the river fork, then head down the main channel. That probably won't be possible, though, which means I'll have to walk back to the fork, jump in, and float down the main channel in my life jacket.\n\nThis is not a happy prospect, but my map – before I lost it – showed the route to the pickup point as broad and smooth. I should be able make it, if I don't get devoured by crazed trout first.\n\nWith such cheery contemplations occupying my mind, I don't notice how late it's getting. My situational awareness is pretty bad tonight. I'd planned to return to my tent before it got too dark, but, well... I never claimed to be _Mr. Outdoors_.\n\nI have a fair idea where the campsite is, but stumbling around in the dark could tangle me up so much I'd never find the place. In the distance, I can hear the guffaws of my 'companions,' but this seems an unreliable beacon. I think of calling out, but the thought of their sarcastic response deters me.\n\nI'm tired of being the group nerd. Those guys are perpetually ticked because I'm better off than they are and have fifty more points of IQ. It's my own fault, really. No limp-handshake, cheese-and-wine crowd for me on this vacation – I wanted a macho experience! Well, now I've got it.\n\nI gaze about the darkening forest. Again I'm struck with how 'alternate reality' things look and feel. It's like I'm on the back lot of the Hades Movie Studio. Even the air smells fake. Probably not, though, or I'd be dead.\n\nAnd that creepy story Bob was telling! Where did that come from? As he spoke, it was like he was channeling the tale from someplace else, not pulling it out of his own memory. The language patterns he used were too sophisticated for his dull mind.\n\nWhen I was a kid, I was a fan of such stories with their mysterious abominations creeping through the night. I never thought I'd be so outlandish as to meet one in person, though. Out here, I'm to so sure. The idea of spending the night alone is suddenly terrifying.\n\nGet a grip, Phil! Don't be a wuss.\n\nWell, maybe sleeping under the stars won't be too bad, if it doesn't rain. At least there won't be an uncouth slob sharing my tent – probably more than one, since we're \"doubling up.\"\n\nSubconsciously, I must have been intending this all along. I've even brought the waterproof bag with my few remaining possessions. This way, I can get up at first light and hit the trail unobserved.\n\nSo, I park myself under a tree. The mosquitoes are out, but I have on my rain parka and thick pants, so they can't inflict too much damage. Besides, I've got my bottle of repellent.\n\nI light my pipe, blow some smoke to clear the air of insects, and settle back to contemplate the world.\n\n* * *\n\nA while later, I discover the pipe lying on the ground beside me with its coals spilled out. If the layer of needles hadn't been damp from the recent rain, I'd probably be burning like a Roman candle. Did I say I'm not Mr. Outdoors?\n\nThe racket from the camp has ceased, and a ¾ moon is out. I come to the brilliant conclusion that I'd dropped off to sleep. That's it for the night; once I wake up, I stay awake.\n\nI've just refilled and relit my pipe when I detect a _presence_. As clear as anything I could see in daylight, I know its exact location. It waits a dozen feet away near a big rock, behind my tree.\n\nEyes pierce through the trunk and into my back. They tickle my spine on ghostly centipede legs. I remain still as long as I can. Then I rise slowly and begin to walk. My feet discover a path.\n\nI hardly seem in control of my own body. My movements are programmed, as if scripted by others. I'm in another world, walking through Bob's story! The _presence_ begins to follow.\n\nI know it's in pursuit, can almost hear the ground cry out from the touch of its polluted steps. An urge to rush headlong down the path nearly overwhelms me, but I suppress it. The _Terror_ thrives on panic.\n\nStay calm! Don't let it know you're scared.\n\nAny sign of weakness will be my doom, my only hope lies in appearing strong while I find my way back to camp. Somehow, I disguise my fear and tromp with measured steps.\n\nThe _Terror_ has come much closer and seems only a few paces behind when I arrive at a clearing. I remember a clearing – is this it? If so, the camp is not far.\n\nA dank and cold draft, like the breath of some foul being, hits my neck. I fight to keep from screaming. I suck furiously on my pipe, trying to blot out all reality beyond the smoky flavor. In my terrified brain, the camp rises to the status of a holy city and the ruffians inside it flutter to the rank of divine saviors. It _has_ to be close now, just a few yards up the path and to the right.\n\nAs the turnoff draws near, my feet drag like lead weights. With each painful step, my tormentor draws closer. He is almost upon me as I make the turn off . . .\n\nThe moonlight reveals a stretch of empty trail. I've gone the wrong way! With ghastly finality, my pipe flickers out.\n\nThe chase is over, but a last spark of resistance flares up in me. I grip the dead pipe hard in my teeth, steel my muscles, and turn to face my pursuer.\n\n\"Would you care for a light?\" It asks in the mildest of tones.\n\n\"W-why, yes,\" I manage to say.\n\nA long, shadowy arm extends my direction. The being behind it looms in the moonlight, huge and terrible. I dare not look into its gaping eyes. Yet, on some primordial level, I sense it intends me no harm. I'm a reeled-in fish about to be tossed back into the water.\n\nI suck the offered flame into my pipe, it seems to be issuing direct from the _Terror's_ finger tip.\n\n\"Thanks... friend,\" I say.\n\nI gaze directly at the figure now. It towers eight feet high, a dark, animated statue. Its face is indistinct. The whole thing is indistinct, solid and ethereal at the same time, like compressed smoke. An ineffable sadness radiates from it. I think of Frankenstein's monster out seeking friends and finding only hostility.\n\nUnspoken communication drifts through the night air. Empathy fills the gap between us. We have a lot in common. Both of us are adrift in an antagonistic environment we do not cherish, and we are despised by those around us.\n\nAn idea enters my mind. \"Do you know where the camp is?\"\n\nMy new friend nods.\n\n\"Let's go there. Some people are just _dying_ to meet you.\"\n\n# Personnel Enhancement Service\n\nHarry Beamon felt his ulcer twinge as he watched his staff members file out of the conference room.\n\nThey chatted happily with each other as young people are apt to do. Jerry McConville, his assistant director, led the procession wearing a red tie and a fresh little smile.\n\nBeamon followed them to the doorway and paused. He rubbed his bald head. Today, he felt each of his 55 years and every one of the excess pounds hanging from his midriff.\n\n_Hey!_ he realized with a jolt. _I never adjourned the meeting._\n\nMcConville had decided on his own that it was finished and had led everyone out. Beamon's face flushed with outrage, then subsided into weary acceptance.\n\nHe'd fire that McConville s.o.b. tomorrow, but he knew the higher ups would never stand for it. The guy was angling to be the next director, everybody knew that, and he was catching influential eyes. There seemed little Beamon could do to defend his position.\n\nHe walked toward his office through the rabbit warren of walled cubicles, nursing resentful thoughts.\n\nThirty-two years at BriSoc Enterprises, and they're throwing me over for some young buck!\n\nEverything was quiet around Beamon's office, as if the major events of the Department were taking place somewhere else – like at Jerry McConville's office on the other side of the floor, conveniently near the lounge area.\n\nOnly Vince's rapid tapping on the secretary station keyboard disturbed the serenity. Vince was the temporary replacement for Doris, the regular executive secretary who was out on maternity leave.\n\n_Imagine,_ Beamon thought sourly, _she's pushing 40 and is out having another baby._\n\nWhat was the world coming to?\n\nBeamon entered his office and rolled his chair up to the computer. Dusty glare came through the window, making him squint. The window washers hadn't cleaned this side of the building for a while. This resulted in a less than pristine ambiance – unlike in McConville's office where everything was spic and span, including the windows.\n\nBeamon tried bringing up his e-mail, but it would not appear despite the agitated drumming of his fingers. The monitor displayed an infuriating message:\n\nNETWORK ERROR. CALL FOR SERVICE\n\n\"Damn!\" He smacked the keyboard.\n\nVince appeared in the doorway with some papers in his hands. \"Mr. Beamon?\"\n\n\"What is it?\" Beamon snapped.\n\nIn the distorted light, Vince looked even more ethereal than usual, as if he possessed no more substance than the dust on the window panes.\n\n\"I've finished the report,\" Vince said.\n\n\"Already? Let's see it.\"\n\nVince approached the desk. Beamon experienced vague unease, as if his inner sanctum was being invaded by some alien presence – although Vince was only a temp drudge whom he could discharge at the drop of a hat.\n\nHe took the document from Vince's long-fingered hand. The sheets of paper felt oddly cold, but there was nothing wrong with their content: page after page of meticulous text, tables, graphs, and flowcharts – all well formatted and pleasing to the eye.\n\n\"This is beautiful!\"\n\nBeamon coughed slightly to cover his unease. He was unaccustomed to praising people, especially not temporary ones.\n\n\"Thank you, sir,\" Vince said.\n\nBeamon scrutinized the young man. He was over six feet tall, but couldn't weigh more than 140 pounds. He was like some pale, gangly insect, a praying mantis or something. And the way his hair was brushed back – Stalin wore his hair like that.\n\nVince was a hard worker, though. Since arriving a week before, he'd straightened out the confusion left by the previous temp who'd been supplied by a different agency. The girl had proved hopeless, and she'd saved Beamon the trouble of dismissing her by simply not showing up to work one day.\n\n\"If everybody worked as hard you do, things would be a lot different around here,\" Beamon muttered.\n\nVince did not reply to the compliment but merely gazed over Beamon's head and out the dusty window, utterly still and expressionless. Seconds passed. Beamon began to wonder if the young man had suffered a cataleptic seizure.\n\nAt last Vince spoke. \"If you will forgive my frankness, sir, I have noticed a certain... laxity among your employees, an absence of respect for your authority.\"\n\nBeamon reddened at the impertinence, but stifled the angry retort ready to burst from his lips. Why get mad at the guy when every word was true?\n\nHe knew people regarded him as 'over the hill,' a man beyond his expiry date. The department was slipping out of his hands and would soon be controlled by others. The staff barely tolerated him now, and he caught the undertones of sarcastic conversations whenever he appeared unexpectedly.\n\nThings hadn't always been this way. Once, a younger and more vigorous Beamon had commanded real authority. When he walked through the office, people sat up at attention. They called him 'Sir' and meant it.\n\nTimes had changed, and Harry Beamon, \"... does not appear to have grown sufficiently with the organization,\" as his most recent job review stated. He regarded this review as the preliminary to the meat axe.\n\nSo, instead of voicing displeasure at the secretary's remarks, Beamon merely grunted.\n\nVince directed his eyes toward him. \"Perhaps my agency can provide some solutions.\"\n\n\"How so?\" Beamon asked.\n\n\"Our Personnel Enhancement division has helped corporate management resolve many staffing difficulties.\"\n\nBeamon leaned forward in his chair. \"Personnel enhancement?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. Employees are assisted in locating areas of their performance where attitudinal adjustment is desirable. They are then aided in making the necessary improvements.\"\n\nBeamon's eyes narrowed. \"There must be more to it than that.\"\n\n\"It is a simple and effective process,\" Vince said. \"I must inform you, however, that discretion is required of those who contract these services – a willingness to accept matters in the proper spirit.\"\n\n_A willingness to keep their mouths shut, you mean?_ Beamon thought, but he said nothing.\n\nVince handed over a business card. It, too, felt cold. It read:\n\nPersonnel Enhancement Service\n\nWe put the power back in your hands\n\nA single phone number graced the card.\n\n\"Have they got a website, an email?\" Beamon asked. \"What about a business address?\"\n\n\"They prefer to handle things by word of mouth only,\" Vince replied. \"Experience has shown that contact with the client is best kept to a minimum.\"\n\nBeamon flipped the card over, nothing on the back. It had been in his hand for some seconds but still felt cold.\n\n\"Should you decide to call, using an unofficial phone would be best,\" Vince said. \"Simplicity and discretion are key components of this service.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Beamon said, \"I'll keep this in mind.\"\n\nVince made a slight nod, turned, and departed the office. From the back, he gave a somewhat robotic impression. Beamon half expected to see wheels attached to the guy's feet.\n\n\"Odd duck,\" Beamon mumbled.\n\nHe returned to his computer screen. The bash must have done some good. At least the thing was back at the main pick menu:\n\nWindows\n\nE-mail\n\nAccess Mainframe\n\nLogout\n\nHow about none of the above?\n\nBeamon swiveled to face the cork-plated wall beside his desk. The papers tacked to it blurred before his unfocused eyes.\n\nPreposterous!\n\nThings couldn't be turned around by 'personality enhancement' or whatever the term was. He looked at the card again. It had finally warmed up in his hand.\n\n\" _Personnel_ enhancement service,\" he corrected himself, \"of course.\"\n\nSure, lots of outfits these days offered 'training development' and 'employee counseling,' but what could they do for Harry Beamon?\n\nThings hadn't been too bad before the merger; but now, with the new upper management team in place, things were sliding inexorably downhill. Jerry McConville was the new rising star. People were hot for change.\n\nMcConville was not particularly competent. The guy was more of a back-slapping / stabbing political type rather than a skilled manager. But sooner than later, he'd be the man in charge of the Department.\n\nWhat do I have to lose?\n\nBeamon reached for his private cell phone and punched in the number from the card. The other side picked up on the first ring.\n\n\"Hello, this is Harry Beamon. You were recommended by – \"\n\n\"We know who you are,\" a cold female voice replied.\n\n\"Yes... \" Beamon said, rather taken aback. \"I might be interested in – \"\n\n\"We know what your interests are, Mr. Beamon,\" the voice replied. \"Please be assured we will handle all details.\"\n\n* * *\n\nBeamon never actually saw the 'Personnel Enhancement' team in action. It was more a question of _sensing_ their manifestations – the way a believer might feel the presence of God, although that seemed an inappropriate analogy.\n\nThey brought quick results, though, just as advertised.\n\nTwo days after the phone call, a new secretary was posted at the workstation outside his office when Beamon arrived. It was well past 10:00 a.m. already. Beamon had been told during the phone call that it would be \"advisable\" if he came in a bit late for a while.\n\nThe new man looked up from his computer monitor. His fingers ceased their rapid pounding on the keyboard.\n\n\"Good morning, sir,\" he said.\n\nHe got to his feet. The guy was very much in the Vince mold – tall, thin, impassive. He had blond hair, which gave him a rather boyish look. It was brushed straight back, à la Stalin.\n\n\"Where's Vince?\" Beamon asked.\n\n\"He has been assigned other duties,\" the secretary replied. \"My name is Max, sir. I hope you'll find my performance to be satisfactory.\"\n\nBeamon pondered this unexpected turn. Vince hadn't said anything about leaving his post, and Beamon felt oddly violated. He should have received at least a day's notice.\n\nMax worsened the already unsettling situation. \"You have a visitor in your office, sir.\"\n\n\"What? Nobody's allowed in there without my permission.\"\n\n\"I am aware of that policy,\" Max replied, \"but it seemed advisable to make an exception.\"\n\n\"Advisable?\"\n\n\"Please forgive me if I have made an error,\" Max said. \"He has only been in there a few moments. He came just before your arrival.\"\n\nBeamon looked apprehensively toward the closed door. Who could be inside his office – some big shot from the 14th floor bearing a hatchet? Was this the day Beamon got his walking papers? The anger drained out of him, replaced by cold dread.\n\n\"Very well, Max,\" he mumbled, \"carry on.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nMax resumed his seat and began typing rapidly again. The staccato noise accompanied Beamon as he approached the heavy wooden door to his office.\n\nHow many thousands of times have I walked through that door?\n\nAlways his office had seemed a refuge, a private space where he could gather his wits. Now it beckoned like a torture chamber. He turned the knob and stepped inside. Jerry McConville looked up from the desk.\n\n\"Jerry! What th... \"\n\nThe expression on McConville's face silenced Beamon – a combination of hate, loathing, and fear. McConville had been writing something. He threw his pen down and rose from the chair.\n\nBeamon stepped back as McConville rushed toward him, fearful of getting knocked down. The younger man only brushed his shoulder on his headlong retreat from the office.\n\nMax appeared and politely closed the door, leaving Beamon alone with his astonishment. He crossed the room to his desk. Upon it lay a hand-written note.\n\nI quit.\n\nJerry McConville\n\nBeamon sank into his big leather chair, too stunned to comprehend what was happening. A bright ray of sunshine stabbed through the grimy window and illuminated his world.\n\nHe remained in this pose for some time, turning over in his brain the glorious prospect of life without Jerry McConville. No more disrespect or wondering when the next blow would fall. No more knot in the stomach when he encountered the guy.\n\nThose Personnel Enhancement folks certainly know their stuff!\n\nExactly what had prompted that mixture of extreme emotions on McConville's face was a matter Beamon did not wish to contemplate overmuch. He'd paid good money out of his own pocket, and he was getting good service. That's all that counted.\n\nBy noon, he felt the desire for a beer. Ordinarily, he didn't drink and seldom went out for lunch, preferring to wolf down food at his desk. But today called for celebrating.\n\nHe exited his office to find Max still working intently at his computer.\n\n\"Not taking a lunch?\" Beamon asked.\n\nMax swiveled his direction. \"I'm straightening out a few issues, sir. Perhaps I can have a break later this afternoon?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\nBeamon walked through his department. Most of the desks were empty. The others were occupied with grimly silent workers who averted their eyes when he passed. Beamon was in too buoyant a mood to notice them, however.\n\nHe reached the elevator bank and pressed the _Down_ button. A car began rising from the lobby while, simultaneously, another one moved down from the 14th floor – the 'Brass Hat' floor where the new CEO and the other mucky mucks had their suites.\n\nI'll bet they're headed to the club, big three martini lunch.\n\nHe shied away from the descending elevator door, unwilling to risk meeting somebody from the upper echelon – especially the CEO with his signature gray suit and bright, wide necktie. Now, there was a condescending sonuvabitch! Beamon had met the CEO only once, and the guy had looked right through him as if he wasn't even there.\n\nLittle possibility of an encounter existed. Those guys had special cards allowing express trips to the lobby, thus avoiding the peon floors. So, Beamon was surprised when the descending elevator come to a stop. He was even more surprised when Vince emerged from it alone.\n\n\"Good afternoon, Mr. Beamon,\" Vince said. \"I trust things are going well for you?\"\n\n\"Uh, yes, quite well.\"\n\nA second elevator door popped open, and Beamon retreated within.\n\n* * *\n\nTwo weeks later, Beamon could scarcely recognize his department. More resignations had followed Jerry McConville's exit, and other pesky subordinates had transferred out. Their replacements were bright, energetic types eager to work. Those of the old guard still remaining at their posts now displayed proper decorum.\n\nThere were certain rumblings among these old timers, mostly about McConville's right hand man who'd been involved in a car crash. Beamon decided to strike a sympathetic pose, signing the get-well card and donating to the gift fund. It didn't occur to him to ask how badly the guy was hurt.\n\nBeamon, himself, felt like a new man. He moved down the rows of diligently working people with a spring in his walk. The nagging digestive track pains faded. Productivity was up, absenteeism down, and everybody spoke to him with respect.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. Beamon ... Yes, sir, Mr. Beamon,\" they said. \"Have a nice day, Mr. Beamon.\"\n\nVince and Max disappeared without notice. This suited him fine, even though he'd had to do without a secretary for a few days. Those guys were creepy, and they belonged in the past with all that other 'personnel enhancement' stuff. Beamon had gotten his money's worth from them; it was time to move on.\n\nAmid his joy, a single question continued to bother him: _Why did Vince go to the 14th floor?_\n\nBeamon finally pushed the question out of his mind. Who knew what went on behind the scenes to accomplish the transformation of his department? Forget the guy.\n\nDoris reappeared from her maternity leave. Her first morning back, she approached Beamon in his office, leaving the door open behind her as was her custom.\n\n\"Mr. Beamon? My computer is all different.\"\n\n\"Well, there have been a lot of changes since you've been away.\"\n\nDoris looked nervously over her shoulder toward her work station, then gathered up her courage. \"I've been meaning to talk to you about that.\"\n\n\"Oh?\"\n\n\"There's a new executive secretary opening in Accounts Payable, and I was wondering if... well, I was thinking of, maybe, a transfer?\"\n\nBeamon smiled broadly. \"Of course.\"\n\n\"You mean, it's all right?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" Beamon said. \"It's only natural to want change – new baby, new job, new surroundings. I'll be happy to provide a reference for you.\"\n\nA great weight seemed to lift from Doris's shoulders. She returned Beamon's smile. \"Thank you.\"\n\nBeamon consulted his watch. He was in a magnanimous mood. Getting rid of Doris would fit in nicely with the new order of things – not that she'd ever been part of the McConville clique. Still, wouldn't it be good to see a fresh, younger face posted outside his office?\n\n\"Tell you what,\" he said. \"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? I'll speak with Accounts Payable, and first thing tomorrow, we'll finalize your transfer.\"\n\n\"Okay. I really appreciate this,\" Doris said.\n\nShe retreated to her workstation and gathered her things, including a box of personal bric-a-brac.\n\n\"Let me help you with that,\" Beamon said.\n\nHe hefted the box along with a potted plant which had graced the desk for years.\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Beamon.\"\n\nAfter a final, uneasy glance at her computer monitor, she followed him to the elevator bank.\n\nOne of the cars was out of order. Its shaft gaped open behind orange caution barriers, and two men were doing something with the cables.\n\n_Who the hell are those guys?_ Beamon wondered.\n\nThey worked silently, their caps pulled low, ignoring the people circulating around. Beamon thought to question them, but his own elevator arrived and he got on with Doris. He accompanied her to the parking garage and deposited the items in the trunk of her car.\n\n\"See you in the morning, Doris.\"\n\n\"You've always been a good boss, Mr. Beamon. You be careful now.\"\n\nBeamon felt a poke of nostalgia watching Doris drive off, but he also felt energized. A new day was dawning in his career! He felt so energized that he climbed the stairs, all the way back to his department.\n\nBy 6:30 pm, everyone had left. Only Harry Beamon remained, master of the realm. He stretched back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, and looked out his sparkling clean window toward the lowering sun. For the first time in quite a while, he was reluctant to leave. The world of work had finally tilted his way, and he wanted to savor his good fortune.\n\nAh well. One more glance at the emails, then I'm out of here.\n\nHe punched a key to rouse his computer from sleep mode. The machine wound through its preliminaries and displayed the password screen. Beamon entered his password, and the pick menu appeared. It was not the normal menu.\n\n\"What the hell?\"\n\nHe leaned closer. In place of the usual choices, the monitor displayed:\n\nWindow\n\nGun\n\nKnife\n\nPermanent Logout\n\nIt can't be. My mind's playing tricks!\n\nOr was this a parting shot from the Jerry McConville crew? That must be it. Tomorrow, there'd be hell to pay.\n\n_Beep!_ The computer attempted to hurry him along.\n\nCautiously, Beamon snaked his hand to the power switch on the machine tower. The moment he touched it, a violent shock ran up his arm, throwing him back in his chair. His heart stopped, then raced wildly. His breath returned in shallow gasps. The monitor flashed red:\n\nMAKE A CHOICE! MAKE A CHOICE! MAKE A CHOICE!\n\nA shattering noise came from outside, followed by a scream. A man hurtled past the window.\n\nBeamon stumbled to the pane and looked down at the sidewalk. Even from this height, he recognized the gray suit and bright, wide necktie of the CEO. The man was lying spread-eagled on his back staring up with dead eyes.\n\n\"My God!\"\n\nBeamon was on the edge of madness. He heard a whirring noise coming up behind him. An iron hand gripped his shoulder.\n\n* * *\n\nSometime later, after the police had finished their investigations and the place had been thoroughly remodeled, Vince entered the director's office. He glanced approvingly at the updated furnishings and new carpet. Then he moved to the fresh pane of window glass and looked out at the crowd bustling along below. Interesting how they still avoided a certain area of sidewalk.\n\nHe sat down at the computer and got to work.\n\n# Rifle King\n\nCongratulations! You have been selected to attend four months of elite training among the best shooters in the country, all expenses paid. – Government Shooting School acceptance letter\n\n1. The elusive dream\n\nThe firearm possessed a commanding masculinity. When Frank Kough presented it to his son that morning, a changing of the guard began. A bright new generation was taking over from the exhausted older one.\n\nThe Hatchel Sovereign .30-06 was pro competition caliber and type, meeting all official specs – bolt action, open sights, wooden stock – no polymers, laser scope, or other techie gizmos. The gun was deadly accurate, the perfect accessory for the \"Sport of Real Men.\"\n\nNow, at the shooting range, Frank relaxed in his fold-up chair and watched his son at work. Hot May sunshine reduced his eyes to slits as he observed the dedication and respect – love really – with which Bobber handled his new rifle. Frank clasped his hands behind his head and drew his lips back in a smile of fatherly pride.\n\nBam!\n\n\"Whoa!\" Bobber turned toward his father and flashed an engaging smile. \"This is something else.\"\n\nFrank nodded. \"Take your time, son. Let it become part of you.\"\n\nHe looked through his binoculars. Bobber was obviously unprepared for the recoil because the bullet was high, missing all the target rings. This was a man's gun, worlds apart from the little .22 Bobber had been used to shooting.\n\nA smooth, confident movement of the bolt ejected the brass shell casing. Bobber chambered another round and fired.\n\nBam!\n\nFrank stuffed the foam plugs deeper into his ears. There was only enough money for one top-end pair of ear protectors, and Bobber had them. No matter, what use did an old invalid have for good hearing? Frank had already heard sufficient guff to last the rest of his days.\n\nSoon, the hits were grouping more tightly. The last three clustered near the bull's eye. Frank observed it all through his binoculars with growing excitement.\n\nThe rifle barrel would be hot now, and his son's shoulder must be aching – time for a rest. Bobber withdrew the finely machined bolt and fondled it with his characteristic expression of deep thought.\n\n_He's got what it takes, alright_.\n\nSuch intensity was rare, something you saw only in the most dedicated pros. You'd have to be a fool not to appreciate the boy's vast potential. Frank's mind turned over great dreams for his son.\n\nWork up through the lower tournaments. Move on to the National competition with its huge purse. Rake in additional millions from celebrity endorsements. Be the next _Rifle King_! Follow the path that Frank, himself, had trod as a young man – and floundered upon.\n\nHis expression soured as he recalled the ruin of his own dreams decades earlier. He'd simply lacked the talent to become a Rifle King. He understood that now, but as a young man the realization had come as a shattering disappointment. His son was different, though. Bobber had the _true_ genius.\n\nFrank's countenance darkened further as he recalled the many arguments he'd had with his wife on the subject.\n\n\"He's not cut out to be a shooter, he's a sensitive boy,\" she'd said. \"Besides, he's just turned fourteen.\"\n\nA lot of hogwash. Anyone could see Bobber was a natural with guns. He had an intimate relationship with them going far beyond the mechanics of aim and shoot. And why would anyone think being the youngest person in competition was a disadvantage? The media would eat it up!\n\nBut all their earlier arguments would pale compared to the one they'd surely have today when Frank dropped his bombshell – the news that Bobber had been accepted into the four-month training program at Government Shooting School. Frank pushed the unpleasant thought of that looming confrontation as far as possible out of his head.\n\nBobber resumed shooting, rapid fire. His hits were grouping beautifully, edging into the bullseye.\n\nGood work, son!\n\nThen the ammunition was used up. Bobber ejected the final shell casing with an authoritative, almost violent, yank of the bolt and turned toward at his father.\n\n\"Dad, can we get more ammo?\"\n\nFrank sucked in his breath. He couldn't answer for a moment, so startled was he by his son's expression. It was cold and feral, like a big jungle cat.\n\n\"Uh... no, Bobber. I think that's enough for today.\"\n\nDisappointment entered the boy's eyes, and perhaps a flash of anger?\n\n\"Give that shoulder a break,\" Frank said. \"And I don't mean a broken bone.\"\n\nBobber did not respond to the attempted humor.\n\n\"You can practice with the .22 if you like.\"\n\nThe boy gave a disappointed sigh, and his demeanor softened.\n\n\"That's okay, Dad.\" He set his rifle down on the shooting stand. \"Guess we'd better get going, huh?\"\n\n\"Sure thing, son.\"\n\nFrank left his chair to help pick up the shell casings. Ammunition was expensive, and he couldn't afford not to reload the empties. But before he could retrieve any of the gleaming objects lying on the ground, sharp pain jolted through his back, halting him in mid stoop.\n\n\"Ugh!\"\n\nHe attempted to straighten but couldn't. Concern shot across his son's face.\n\n\"Dad?\" Bobber rushed over. He gripped Frank's arm and gently eased him upright. \"I'll take care of things, don't worry. Just take it easy a minute.\"\n\n\"Th-thanks, son.\"\n\nBobber assisted him to the chair, then trotted back to the shooting station and picked up the casings, bending effortlessly to the task.\n\nFrank twisted in the chair, trying to locate a less uncomfortable position. The pain in his back receded, leaving room for toxic feelings of powerlessness and humiliation. He chided himself for his impulsive move. Since his workplace accident, even the simple act of bending down could present an impossible situation.\n\n_Things will be different soon,_ he assured himself obstinately.\n\nThe day would come when he would not have to pinch pennies, when avid fans would retrieve souvenir casings from the rifle of the great Robert W. Kough – son of Frank Kough.\n\n2. A hopeful future\n\nThe two drove off in the battered family sedan. With his rifles packed away, Bobber resumed his buoyant and chatty persona. Such a change always occurred whenever he was away from his guns.\n\nHe launched into a story about Mrs. Cox, his English teacher. \"My fountain pen wasn't working right, so I was shaking it. You know, to get the ink going.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Frank said.\n\n\"Well, I didn't expect old Cox to walk by my desk just then. She got ink all over the back of her skirt!\"\n\nFrank chuckled. \"I'm sure it was _totally_ accidental, right?\"\n\nBobber smiled mischievously. \"Good thing she didn't know what was going on. She was really pissed the next day, though. Nobody told on me, which is... \"\n\nHe looked off toward the Texas-Style steak house coming up on the right. Frank knew that Bobber wanted to stop for lunch, and he wanted to take him into the restaurant. After such a fine day of shooting, the boy deserved a reward.\n\nFrank imagined the two them sauntering in through the swinging doors like a couple of wild west desperadoes. They'd stand before the big wall menu with hands on hips, oblivious to the backlog of customers piling up behind them waiting to go through the serving line.\n\nBut he continued driving and tried not to notice his son's head turn to follow the receding restaurant. Frank gripped the steering wheel hard.\n\n\"Sorry Bobber. I'm afraid that new rifle pretty much cleaned us out for a while.\"\n\nAgain, he pondered on how long it would take to pay off the firearm. But, damn, it was a premium Hatchel! Almost every top-flight pro used the identical model. According to the brochure, it had \"finely machined components throughout\" crafted from \"only the best materials\" and a straight, rigid barrel guaranteed to be \"sniper accurate.\"\n\nBobber looked away from the window and began another of his Cox stories, part of the ongoing saga of his least favorite teacher.\n\n\"There were visitors last week. Cox couldn't be her usual bitchy self, of course, and had to put on an act for them. Well, as it turned out...\"\n\nAnn Kough gave an icy welcome upon their return home.\n\n\"Change your clothes, Bobber. I can smell gunpowder on them.\"\n\n\"Okay, Mom.\"\n\nWithout another word, she turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Bobber headed for his room.\n\nFrank intercepted him and spoke in a confidential voice. \"Stay out of sight for a while, okay, son?\"\n\n\"Sure, Dad. I understand.\"\n\nFrank drew a deep breath and followed his wife into the kitchen. He opened a cola and tried to make small talk as she cleaned up the place. Nothing he said engendered a response. He failed to create an opening into which he could break the news. As it turned out, he didn't need one.\n\n\"I read the letter you got from the shooting school,\" Ann said through tightened lips.\n\n\"Oh?\"\n\nFrank was caught off guard. She'd never before looked at his personal mail without permission.\n\n\"Yes, and you should be proud the boy's going to do _exactly_ what you want.\"\n\n\"But Ann, he wants it, too. It's a wonderful opportunity.\" He almost added, _\"I wish I'd gotten a chance like this,\"_ but kept it to himself.\n\n\"He wants it because _you_ tell him so,\" Ann said.\n\n\"That's not true.\"\n\n\"Believe me, Frank, whatever he manages to do or not do, it isn't going to make you any more of a man than you are now.\"\n\nHe flinched at this brutal reference to his disabilities. _Damn you!_\n\nShe didn't talk to him like this two years ago. He was a construction foreman then, bringing home fat paychecks. Everything was hunky dory – before the fall which had left him incapacitated and unemployable.\n\n\"That's not how it is!\" he blurted. \"This training will give him a major advantage. Almost all the top pros have attended the program.\"\n\n\"Send him to that school if you must. It looks like I can't stop you.\" Ann shoved plates into the dishwasher with enough force to nearly shatter them. \"And put him in those tournaments, too. Just don't expect _me_ around to watch all this.\"\n\nThe harsh words from the usually soft-spoken woman rattled Frank. He couldn't reply. Ann finished with the plates and stalked out of the kitchen. Frank sat by himself, drinking cola which had gone flat.\n\n* * *\n\nDeparture day for the Government Shooting School arrived. Bobber spent the previous night with friends, and their parents had dropped him off at the bus station the following morning. Frank went there to see him off. He spotted Bobber standing amid a group of kids his age and older, including some girls.\n\n\"Hey Dad!\" Bobber called.\n\nFrank made his way across the waiting room with his cane, careful to avoid any missteps on the grimy tile floor. As he neared the kids, he could see the admiration and awe they were directing at Bobber – a little fear, even. They all made way for him.\n\n\"Good luck, son.\" He gripped Bobber's hand in a firm shake.\n\n\"Thanks, Dad... where's Mom?\"\n\n\"Uh, she's feeling a bit poorly. She sends her love.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nA light seemed to go out in Bobber's eyes; he lowered them to the floor. An awkward silence commenced, but a girl soon filled it.\n\n\"This is the coolest thing ever,\" she said. \"When is your break?\"\n\nBobber looked toward her, and some of his amiability returned. \"First of September, half-way through the program.\"\n\n\"That's in time for the 'welcome back' dance at school,\" the girl said. \"You'll be there, won't you?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't miss it.\" Bobber turned toward his father. Sadness still edged his eyes, but he assumed a light-hearted tone. \"I won't be seeing Mrs. Cox anymore. Who's going to keep you informed about her?\"\n\nFrank grinned. \"I'll manage, somehow.\"\n\nThe bus left promptly, piloted by a smiling and courteous driver. This seemed an auspicious start, and Frank Kough returned home brimming with confidence. After two years of frustration and gloom, he felt optimistic again. He scarcely noticed the angry silence radiating from his wife.\n\n3. Desperation\n\nFrank's optimism faltered when the second weekly report arrived from the school. By the time a month had passed, his optimism was gone.\n\nThe reports stated, in the cold language of scores and ratings, that Bobber was having major difficulties with his studies. Ann was so thrilled with the news that her entire demeanor brightened. Her sunny face contrasted with Frank's increasing gloom.\n\nA note from the school director arrived:\n\n. . . and since Robert's performance in the qualifying tests show him to have considerable potential, I do not feel it would be justified to remove him from the school at this time.\n\nHowever, I believe his marginal performance of late serves to disqualify him from receiving tuition and board at government expense. As such, I regret to inform you that we are withdrawing financial assistance . . .\n\nFrank wanted to phone his son and demand an explanation but decided to wait until Bobber came home for mid-term break. This was a problem requiring personal contact.\n\n* * *\n\nHe chose a time when both of them were in their customary positions – Frank sitting in the stuffed chair near the TV and Bobber on the floor with one of his airplane books. Frank held the TV directory near his face and pretended to read it. Actually, he was observing Bobber from the corner of his eye.\n\nThe boy didn't seem particularly concerned about anything as he flipped through the pages of _Famous Fighter Planes, Hunters of the Sky_. His nonchalance seemed so complete that Frank wondered if he cared at all about what was going on at the school.\n\nSince Bobber had returned, the upcoming 'welcome back' dance occupied his conversation more than anything else. He was spending a lot of time on the phone with Marsha, the girl from the bus station. Ann was pleased by this development.\n\nIs she right, after all? Did Bobber apply to that school just to please me?\n\n\"Bobber,\" he said.\n\n\"Yeah, Dad?\" The boy flashed one of his charming smiles.\n\n\"I got a letter from the school director. He said you haven't been doing very well.\"\n\n\"I know, Mom told me.\" Bobber returned to his reading.\n\nFrank was unsettled by this off-hand response. He was about to hide behind the TV book again when Bobber looked straight at him. The boy's face had a different expression now, disturbing in its intensity. Frank experienced a nudge of apprehension.\n\n\"I just haven't got the right vibes lately.\" Bobber's voice sounded deeper and more mature.\n\nFrank asked the question tormenting him. \"Do you want to continue at the school?\"\n\nHis son paused a long moment before answering. \"Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It's up to you, Dad.\"\n\nSo, the decision had landed in the one place Frank dreaded most – his own lap. An enormous burden settled upon his shoulders, pushing him down into the chair.\n\nWhat the hell should I do? Pull the plug on the whole thing?\n\nBobber's failures were shouting loud and clear. The message was unmistakable – he did not share the dream of becoming a Rifle King. He just wanted to be a normal kid with a girlfriend. Yet, hadn't he also expressed a desire to continue? At least he'd claimed to feel such a desire occasionally.\n\nAll great artists, and Bobber was certainly an artist, must feel like quitting now and then, Frank reasoned. Especially if they haven't received any return on their work yet – especially if one parent is fighting them every step of the way.\n\nThe lack of a push at the critical moment must be responsible for a great many failures. In his own inscrutable way, Bobber might be crying out for such a push in order to get back \"the right vibes.\"\n\nAnd this was the final chance. _Everything_ depended on Bobber's success. He was the future of the family line. If he failed, then his father had also failed. Mediocrity and oblivion would be their mutual fate.\n\nFrank took a deep breath and made the plunge. \"Well then, if it's up to me, I say we continue.\"\n\n\"Okay, Dad.\"\n\nThere was no reluctance nor antagonism in the boy's voice, only a detached concurrence, as if he were working a math problem. Frank found it impossible to interpret the response. His son was becoming like a stranger to him.\n\nBobber returned to his book. Neither of them noticed Ann staring daggers at them from the kitchen doorway.\n\n* * *\n\nFrank Kough had endured many indignities since his accident – loss of income and status, the humiliation of accepting disability payments, the growing contempt from his wife – but none of them were as bad as this mission to secure a loan from his brother, Joey. The two had not met in over a year, which suited them both fine.\n\nThey'd never cared for each other, even as kids. They'd existed in different worlds. Frank was the outgoing, athletic one. Joey, five years younger, had left little wake as he moved through the public schools far behind his brother. He'd gone on to financial success while Frank took the blue-collar route, after the demise of his Rifle King dream.\n\nTo be brutally honest, the two had come to a place of mutual hatred. Frank considered his brother an arrogant snob, and he knew Joey looked down on him as an uneducated oaf. They resented the implied obligations of having the same parents.\n\nBut Frank was desperate now. He fully understood his tenuous position as he sat in the large stuffed chair of Joey's living room and endured the reunion. He'd tried to present his dire situation as a sort of business opportunity – get in on the ground floor, make a big return on the investment.\n\nHell, I'm no salesman.\n\n\"I figured there was more behind your visit than just socializing,\" Joey said. \"It's been a long time.\"\n\nThanks a lot. Nice of you to put me at ease.\n\nA jolt of pain in Frank's back accompanied these angry thoughts.\n\n\"So, Bobber needs financial help, eh?\" Joey said. \"How's the boy getting along? Does he still have that weight problem?\"\n\nFrank bristled. The period after his accident had been highly traumatic for Bobber, and the boy had taken comfort in binge eating. Things had settled down more recently, though.\n\n\"The boy's in great shape, now.\" Frank wanted to add that Joey hadn't dropped any flab himself, but said nothing further.\n\nThe heat inside the house was oppressive, although it did give Frank satisfaction to watch Joey suffer along with him. The central air conditioning his brother had installed with such fanfare years earlier was out of order. The repair guys would be coming \"any time,\" according to Joey.\n\n\"Don't think I'm not sympathetic,\" Joey said, \"but I just can't see the boy amounting to anything special. How about putting him in a trade school?\"\n\nFrank kept his gaze fixed to the floor.\n\n\"I can't afford to waste money on something that's not going to pay off,\" Joey added. \"I didn't get to where I am today by taking foolish risks, you know.\"\n\nThe condescending tone stabbed Frank's pride. He felt like a cockroach pinioned to the chair.\n\n\"That's _very_ responsible,\" he said.\n\nJoey nodded, apparently unaware of the sarcasm. \"Sorry, Frank, but I don't think I can swing it.\"\n\nFrank leaned forward. The pain in his back worsened – it complemented the headache gripping his skull. \"First time I've heard you're low on cash, Joey. At least you're not blowing it out your ass about what you're going to buy next.\"\n\nJoey's eyebrows shot up. He mouth trembled, groping for an angry retort. Frank struggled out of the chair and seized his cane. For a moment, he considered striking his brother with it. The panicked look in Joey's eyes indicated he took the threat seriously.\n\n\"Why don't you wire that air conditioner to your nuts and see if it works then?\" Frank hefted the cane ominously. \"It'll be the biggest thrill you've had in twenty years!\"\n\nHe turned and exited the house as quickly as he could.\n\nJoey moved to the front door to watch his brother hobbling to his car.\n\n\"Sure you can make it, Grandpa?\" he yelled.\n\nHe slammed the door.\n\n4. Revival\n\nThe house was already mortgaged to the hilt. Frank had just gone over his pitiful list of salable items again and was pondering the grim prospect of visiting a loan shark. He'd known people who had dealt with loan sharks and had not been able to repay. It wasn't a pretty picture.\n\nBut if his great dream failed, his life would lose all meaning. Why stick around to wallow in the wreckage? A quick crash into a freeway bridge abutment would do as well as anything.\n\nThen the check from his brother arrived. Frank's amazement upon opening the envelope almost knocked him over. Had he misjudged the guy? Had some dormant chord of sympathy been struck in Joey's heart? An enclosed note dispelled that misconception:\n\nYou've got until December 22 to pay this back.\n\nJust in time for Christmas. A legal document accompanied the check. Not until Frank committed to the repayment terms would Joey's bank release the funds.\n\n\"Jerk,\" Frank sneered. \"We'll show you!\"\n\nHe signed the form, nearly punching his ballpoint through the paper.\n\n* * *\n\nThe loan pumped new life into the Dream. Not only did it stop the dunning letters from the school, but it seemed to trigger a major improvement in Bobber's performance. With each weekly report, he rose higher in his class standings. The painful knot in Frank's stomach loosened, then disappeared.\n\nAt last, the four-month program came to an end.\n\n* * *\n\nNobody at the graduation ceremony was prouder than Frank. He sat in the front row of the auditorium watching the line of young men advance to receive their certificates from the school director. Not a one of them was under 19.\n\nHis wife, of course, did not attend. They'd barely spoken in weeks, as she was on the far side of the Dream. Her absence was not noted in the all-male crowd.\n\n\"You know,\" a man seated behind Frank commented, \"there's actually some talk about opening the completion up to girls.\"\n\n\"That'll be the day!\" his companion replied. \"Over my dead body.\"\n\nBobber came last in line, smaller than the others but towering above them in ability. Even from a distance, Frank could tell his son had changed a great deal. He seemed much older than his 14 years now, grave and dignified – almost a mature man.\n\nThis impression was reinforced after the ceremony when they attended the brief reception together. His son's continuous chatter of prankish exploits had stopped. In its place was the quiet reserve he'd hitherto displayed only on the shooting range.\n\nOf course, the boy was growing up and couldn't be expected to keep his childish behavior indefinitely, Frank reasoned. Still, he missed the old easy-going banter.\n\n\"Are you sorry it's over, Bob?\" Somehow, it seemed inappropriate to call his son \"Bobber\" any more.\n\n\"No, I'm not sorry.\"\n\n\"Good... good...\"\n\nHe left an opening for Bob to say something about his school experiences, but his son did not fill it. Frank busied himself with sipping punch and glancing about the room.\n\nThe graduates were ignoring each other, socializing only with friends and family members. They displayed no sense of community with their fellow alumnae, no 'we're in this together,' camaraderie.\n\n_Well, they'll be competing against each other soon enough. Maybe just as well they're not so buddy-buddy_.\n\nHe returned his attention to his son. Bob was alone in his own world, and not even Frank was allowed within. The boy seemed almost hostile.\n\nWhat's going on in his mind?\n\n\"Can we get going, Dad?\"\n\n\"Uh ... sure thing, son. Do you want to speak with anybody first?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nBob spent the four-hour ride home staring wordlessly out his window on the bus.\n\n\"I hope things aren't too dull for you back home, now that you've seen the wider world,\" Frank said at one point, affecting an air of bonhomie.\n\nBob clearly wasn't paying much attention, though he did nod his head.\n\n* * *\n\nFrank Kough settled into an isolated existence, a virtual stranger in his own home. Ann became even more silent. Bob was absorbed in a demanding schedule of high school classes and shooting activities which left no room for the old father / son relationship.\n\nFamily meals were a thing of the past; everyone now ate alone and at different times. They no longer seemed a family at all, just a trio of strangers living under the same roof.\n\nWhen he wasn't out shooting or attending classes, Bob stayed in his room with music playing. He seemed to have outgrown his school peers. He no longer phoned Marsha. Ann kept to her own quarters, having moved out of the shared bedroom some time before. Frank had almost gotten used to his isolation from her, but Bob's aloofness caused him genuine pain.\n\nHang on, Frank, things will get better soon.\n\nHe tried to keep his mind fixed on the successes to come – the great infusions of prize money and endorsement cash, the fame and respect Bob would earn. The reign of a Rifle King lasted only a single year until, like a beauty pageant queen, he handed over the mantle to the next one. Prudent financial planning was necessary.\n\nMost of the money would go into a trust fund for Bob, but there'd be plenty left over to put the family back on its feet. The first thing Frank intended to do was shove the loan payment into Joey's smug face. Then a new car, a better house, and an elite school for Bob.\n\nAnd a new woman?\n\nThis previously unthinkable idea was gaining traction these days. Frank put the subject out of his mind as being another 'bridge to cross' when the time came.\n\nThough Bob had never said as much, he didn't seem to want his father accompanying him to the shooting range any longer. So, Frank limited his trips there to picking up and dropping off his son. When the district tournament tryouts came, Frank's eager desire to see Bob perform was likewise discouraged. He had to wait anxiously at home to learn the results. He began to take counsel of his fears.\n\nBob will never make it. Ann was right, he's just a boy!\n\nThen, he'd force himself back to an optimistic view. He was riding an emotional roller coaster, and the trip was killing him.\n\n* * *\n\nBob returned from the trials and dropped a manila envelop into his father's lap. Without comment, he headed to his room and shut himself in. Music issued through the door. Frank steeled himself with a slug of beer, then he opened the envelop with trembling fingers . . .\n\nBob had qualified!\n\nThe sun came out again. A bright ray seemed to punch through the ceiling and illuminate him in his chair.\n\nThank God! Thank God!\n\nAnn walked out that same day. Her departure was quiet and swift. She was gone a while before Frank realized what had happened. Bob understood, though. His crying was loud enough to overcome the music noise.\n\nFrank wanted to knock on the bedroom door, comfort his son, but he could think of nothing to say. He moved to the living room and slumped down in his easy chair.\n\nShe'll come around after the tournament. It's not easy to ignore success.\n\nMaybe she wouldn't come back. Frank shrugged and flicked on the TV.\n\n5. At the tournament\n\nIt was a bright, crisp day with winter not far off – prefect for shooting. The fair grounds still looked familiar to Frank after all this time. He glanced about them with pride, nostalgia, and more than a little trepidation.\n\nThe whole place had been turned into a shooting gallery for the district tournament. One large section was given over to the stationary range with targets set at various distances. The mobile range, with its contraptions for moving targets around, took up another side of the grounds.\n\nIn the center, where the amusement park had been, stood the obstacle range. Frank Kough sighed.\n\nAh, wouldn't it have been great if I'd . . .\n\nTwenty-three years earlier, he'd been among the eager young men vying for fortune and glory here at the tournament. His dreams had died that day as it became obvious that his skills – so impressive in the lower ranks – were simply not adequate to compete on a professional level.\n\nThe crowd had actually booed him!\n\nThe terrible noise still echoed in his ears, pressing him down. He glanced suspiciously at some older members of the crowd. Had any of them been present that day, joining in the catcalls? Were their sons out there competing against Bob today?\n\nAnother side of the grounds was given over to refreshment and souvenir stands. The big item being hawked today was the SHOOT EM UP! sweatshirt, available in various colors. The white with red splotches seemed the most popular. For an extra charge, you could have your initials stitched into the garment.\n\nA crowd milled around these stands. The morning events on the stationary and mobile ranges were finished, and an hour remained before the big events on the obstacle range.\n\nThe defeated mass of contestants would be packing up their rifles and heading off to oblivion. The washouts from these district tourneys seldom made successful comebacks, as Frank well knew from experience.\n\nHe'd missed the earlier competitions due to an appalling series of delays. First, his alarm had failed to ring. He wondered if Bob might have switched it off. It seemed a not implausible explanation, considering how withdrawn and peculiar his son was acting these days.\n\nThen the damned car wouldn't start again. Frank had been in a near panic. After an unconscionable delay, the guy from the garage finally showed up with a tow truck. The sonuvabitch gave Frank all kinds of hell before he agreed to provide a loaner – a gasping wreck scarcely better than Frank's own vehicle.\n\nNow he was here in the milling crowd, uncertain of the situation and afraid to ask. He screwed up his courage and approached a man in a SHOOT EM UP! sweatshirt. The guy looked too young to have attended the tournament 23 years ago.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" Frank said, \"I just got here. Can you tell me who the final qualifiers are?\"\n\n\"It's Bert Daniels all the way,\" the man answered. \"He took Stationary and Mobile hands down at most ranges.\"\n\nA second sweat-shirted man clutching a beer cup joined the conversation. \"The other three guys did pretty good, too, but it's just Bert's day. Ain't nobody going to catch him.\"\n\n\"Who are the other three?\" Frank asked.\n\n\"Couple guys named Riga and Kemp,\" the first man replied, \"and this kid, Bob Kough.\"\n\nFrank gripped his cane in a trembling hand. \"H-how did the Kough boy do?\"\n\n\"Pretty good,\" the first man replied. \"He even out-pointed Daniels once. Don't look like the kid's got the right stuff to beat him at Obstacles, though.\"\n\n\"Too bad he had to draw a hotshot like Daniels, being his first tournament and all,\" the man with the beer said. \"Bert's going all the way to the National, if you ask me.\"\n\nNobody asked you, moron!\n\n\"Okay, thanks,\" Frank said.\n\nHe moved off so the men could not see the powerful emotions contorting his face. Somehow, he'd never envisioned the mechanics of the contest. He'd only thought of the prize money and glory once everything was over. But now his son had made it into the top four, and a fierce opponent stood in his way.\n\nThe strangers' words had rattled him, but what value did they have? If those guys possessed any brains, they wouldn't be wearing those jackass sweatshirts. Bob had the \"right stuff\" to win, and anyone who doubted that was in for a surprise.\n\nFrank hurried to the obstacle range and got a front seat, right up against the thick Plexiglas shield.\n\n* * *\n\nThe Riga-Kemp shoot off came first, and it was a dreary affair. Frank suffered along with the rest of the crowd as the contestants moved cautiously from the 300 meter range down to shorter and shorter distances. The action was slow, boring, indecisive. Frank pulled his shabby overcoat closer around himself to ward off the chill.\n\n\"Man, this sucks!\" somebody behind Frank muttered.\n\n\"Where do they dig up these clowns,\" another spectator complained.\n\nFrank smiled inwardly. Neither of these contenders looked like major threats for Bob. They simply weren't geared for competition on the Obstacles. That could change in an instant, though. Over the years, he'd watched some amazing scenarios in the TV coverage – a contestant looks really awful, then _BAM!_ a victory from out of nowhere. All it took was one good shot.\n\n\"Send the bums home!\" somebody yelled.\n\nOthers took up the chant: \"Send the bums home!\"\n\nA rising chorus of catcalls and boos issued from the crowd. Frank cowered under the verbal lash; his mind reeled back to when he'd received similar condemnation.\n\nThen he joined in the shouts: \"Send the bums home!\"\n\nThe officials were not supposed to give much weight to 'fan input,' but how could they ignore such a rebellion? The fans sounded like a mob at an ancient Roman gladiatorial contest. They stamped their feet and roared in a single voice:\n\nSEND THE BUMS HOME!\n\nA harsh, whistling noise came over the loudspeakers. The crowd fell silent. The loudspeaker began to talk:\n\nBy unanimous decisions of the judges, both contestants are disqualified for exceeding the allowed time limit.\n\nThe crowd broke into cheers. After the racket died down a bit, Frank raised his binoculars and observed the two disgraced 'warriors' exiting the obstacle course, following the earlier contestants into lives of obscurity.\n\nPoor bastards.\n\nHe could afford to be sympathetic. Neither man stood in the way of his Dream any longer.\n\n6. Thrust for glory\n\nGround crew rushed onto the Obstacles range to prepare it for the next match – Daniels vs. \"that Kough kid,\" in the crowd parlance.\n\nA man near Frank stood up.\n\n\"Where're you going?\" the man's friend asked.\n\n\"I've seen enough crap for one day. I'll watch Daniels at the regional tourney where he'll have some _real_ competition.\"\n\n\"I hear you,\" the friend said, also getting up to leave.\n\nFrank wanted to slug the guys. If he were fit, he might have done so.\n\n\"You'll be sorry,\" he muttered.\n\nDaniels and Bob appeared on the course along with the referee. Frank zeroed in with his binoculars.\n\nOhhh... Hang in there, son!\n\nDaniels was a big, mean-looking guy towering over Bob and the ref. He appeared relaxed, confident – cocky even. Everything about him shouted 'Champ!' Bob kept his eyes fixed to the ground.\n\nAnd now for the final event! The Obstacle range competition between first place finisher Bert Daniels and fourth place finisher Robert Kough!\n\nA polite ripple of applause greeted the announcement.\n\nBob lost the coin toss, so Daniels was allowed his choice of opening position as well as the first chance to shoot.\n\n\"Poor kid,\" somebody near Frank said, \"ain't nothing going his way.\"\n\n\"Kind of hate to see a mismatch like this,\" somebody else said.\n\nFrank shot a barbed look at the two offenders, but they didn't notice.\n\n\"Yeah, but you've got to give the kid credit,\" the first man said. \"I never thought he'd get this far.\"\n\nThese and similar comments beat on Frank's skull like jungle tom-toms. He'd not consumed any alcohol that day, but his head was spinning as if he'd downed an eight-pack.\n\n\"We'd better get to the car,\" someone said. \"Going to be one hell of a traffic jam getting out of here.\"\n\nAnother man rose and led his family away – others started to leave as well. Frank uttered a silent curse at each one of them.\n\nWe'll show you!\n\nBut he was losing confidence. The brazen look on Daniels' face had scared him badly. Tears starting to well up; he donned sunglasses to hide them.\n\nThe match began with a shriek of the referee's whistle.\n\nGood luck, son!\n\nThis was the boring, long distance round – the part that seldom yielded any results and which had dragged on so interminably in the previous match. The clock started running. Bob had fifteen seconds to make his first move between home position and one of three obstacles.\n\nHe chose the one to his left and was almost there when Daniel's shot caught him. The bullet struck the Hatchel's stock with a resounding _Crack!_ which sent Bobber sprawling behind the protection of the concrete barrier.\n\nA hammer blow hit Frank's chest; he struggled to breathe. A collective gasp shot through the crowd. Then a mighty ovation thundered. The parking lot exodus reversed itself.\n\n_Kough signals he's fit to go on,_ the loudspeaker announced.\n\nAnother roar from the crowd, like a savage beast awakening from slumber.\n\n\"Get him Daniels!\" someone shouted.\n\n\"Raise the white flag!\" another fan yelled.\n\nThe mob divided into two unequal factions. Most roared for blood, while others urged the officials to stop the mismatch. The majority soon prevailed:\n\nGet him Daniels! Shoot em up! Shoot em up!\n\nFrank Kough felt the world slipping away from him. He tumbled forward and would have fallen out of his seat had the barrier not stopped him. His face squashed against the Plexiglas.\n\nPlease, son ... please, God!\n\nIt was Bobber's turn now. A hush came over the crowd; Frank Kough forced himself to open his eyes and watch.\n\nDaniels made a feinting move toward one obstacle before hurtling back to a different one. He was a big man, a big target . . .\n\nBob, the damaged rifle stock pressed firmly to his shoulder, wasn't fooled. He never varied his aim from the correct spot.\n\nBam!\n\nHis bullet passed cleanly through both of his opponent's temples. Daniels flew wildly in the air, then crashed down. Silence greeted this incredible turnabout. Seconds passed before cheers and thundering applause erupted.\n\nFrank was crying freely and unable to participate.\n\nEpilog: Fruits of victory\n\nRobert Kough and his father sat in the Texas-style steak house eating dinner. The older man grinned broadly, taking pleasure at the number of people looking their way. Bob remained impervious.\n\n\"Is Mom coming back?\" he asked.\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\"Maybe I'll go look for her.\"\n\nHis father adjusted the napkin spread across his new designer jeans. \"She's not at your grandparents' house, and she quit her job at the grocery. I don't think she wants to see us anymore, son.\"\n\nBob nodded gravely and returned to his steak, bloody and rare. The rifle had truly become part of him now, and he was part of it. He glanced across the table toward the man who had made him what he was, and his trigger finger itched.\n\nEND of the stories\n\nThanks for reading! You must have liked the stories if you got this far, so why not write a review? Just a few words, either at the online bookstore where you obtained this book or in any other medium you wish. May numerous blessings come your way.\n\n# Connect with the Author\n\nPlease visit my website and blog at: \"The B2\"\n\nAlso, my Smashwords author page\n\n# Brian's Other Books\n\nHere are brief descriptions of my other adult books. They are available at all major online retailers in e-book format. To find the relevant links, please visit my website at \"The B2\"\n\nReturn to Mech City\n\nBook one of the _Robot Horizon_ series\n\nThe end of the world as you've never seen it before. Life goes on in Mech City, but it is no longer human.\n\nAs mankind succumbs to its follies and exits the stage, scholar model robot, Winston Horvath, makes a perilous journey to Mech City where he was manufactured. He meets Star Power, the world's only functional female robot.\n\nThings unravel when a Roboto Fascist dictatorship seizes power. Its leader has designs on Star. Winston flees with her to gather forces for a counter-coup and, perhaps, get himself upgraded so as to bring Star true satisfaction.\n\nScience Fiction / Humor / Dystopian\n\nExpedition Westward\n\nBook two of the _Robot Horizon_ series\n\nWhat is the cost of rediscovering true love in a shattered world? Whatever it might be, Star is willing to pay, or not survive the outcome. A trek along dangerous roads provides the answer. The dystopian adventure continues.\n\nScience Fiction / Humor / Dystopian\n\nBattle for Mech City\n\nBook three of the _Robot Horizon_ series\n\nWinston Horvath regains control of Mech City, but his success is soon threatened. Violent religious fanatics are approaching with a robotic army. A disgruntled Dr. Che is also coming to kidnap Star. Meanwhile, Star's out of control sexuality is causing difficulties with various robotic and human partners. The fun continues!\n\nScience Fiction / Humor / Dystopian\n\nGreat Republic on Rye\n\nWhen dissolute card sharp and ladies man, Eugene Walton, unexpectedly inherits a plantation, his life assumes new purpose. After freeing the slaves and narrowly escaping a lynch mob, Eugene moves into the wider world bearing a message of liberation.\n\nAccompanied by dedicated friends and a shadowy former bondsman, he plans to found a \"Great Republic\" based upon the highest ideals. But things are not so simple in an unready world. Let no good deed go unpunished!\n\nAdventure / Social-Political Satire / Dark Humor\n\nRaptor Aces\n\nThe terrifying Zone of Destruction – ZOD, the absence of God. It has taken over the Raptor Aces, an elite Youth League air squadron.\n\nIts leader, Dytran, is the cream of his totalitarian country. His world unravels when a poor decision goes horribly wrong, resulting in death and destruction. He grabs at a chance to volunteer for support aviation duty in the war. At the front, he and his comrades are swept up in violence and revenge until escape seems beyond reach.\n\nNew Adult / Action-Adventure / War\n\n4th Musketelle\n\nTrophy wife Laila Armstrong chafes under the domination of husband Frank. When she learns her adult \"step children\" are plotting to cut her out of their dad's lucrative business affairs, she must act fast to avoid being thrown back into the poverty she escaped years earlier. Murder seems to be a reasonable solution – much better than a messy divorce.\n\nLaila plots to use Frank's infamous temper against him and make his death seem like an \"accident.\" Things don't work out as planned, though, and it's not certain who will survive the final cut.\n\nDark Humor / Romantic Homicide\n\nDAS ROAD\n\nA road novel with fascinating turns through exotic Asia, workaday America, and Iran caught up in revolution. Travel realms where anything is possible, wonderful, or horrible. And always on the road ahead, the mythical figure of Jon Glass who haunts the entire journey. A story imbued with meaning just below the level of articulating. A siren call to your wanderlust.\n\nTravel / Mystery\n\nCareer Moves for Burnt Out Personifications\n\nSanta, the Grim Reaper, and others scramble to find new careers and identities. Outrageous political and social satire. \"A smorgasbord of paranoid ramblings ideally suited to today's sensibilities.\"\n\nHumor / Political Satire\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nCRACK3D PICTURE\n\nBENJAMIN SULLIVAN\n\nCopyright © 2012 Benjamin Sullivan\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nTABLE OF CONTENTS\n\nPROLOGUE\n\nI\n\nII\n\nIII\n\nIV\n\nV\n\nVI\nEPILOGUE\n\nPROLOGUE\n\n\"God keeps me alive to watch me suffer,\" says Henry in a dry, groggy voice.\n\nHe is sitting in a rusting steel chair, with his head down, scratching at his eyes with clinched fists. His eyes blink and move rapidly, but he is lost and has no earthly idea of where he is. He slowly lifts his head which is perched upon slouched shoulders and takes a look around. He has found himself in a small, unknown office, containing only a desk, and an old wooden book shelf with numerous medical and psychological texts, some hard cover others paperback. There are no pictures on the walls or desk, no framed inspirational quotes from half wit intellectual psychiatrists, only white walls, which radiate even whiter due to bright, fluorescent lights in the ceiling. The lights are so bright that he feels as if he should be lying on a hospital bed awaiting surgery. He looks extremely exhausted; his eyes are dark with heavy, purple bags underneath, as if he has not slept in weeks and just crawled from bed. His hair is a shaggy, disheveled rat's nest. His workman-like clothes are wrinkled and his jeans have worn out holes at the knees. He is thin faced, thin nosed, but with a strong and defined jaw line. His complexion is fair, and the slightest light could burn him. Even the light in this office. He is starting to feel the heat from above. He keeps scanning the room until his eyes meet a man sitting directly across from him, in a comfortable, leather desk chair. Henry's counselor, Mr. Hoffer, is a middle aged man with a mullet hair do. He is wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts and Jesus sandals. He is holding Henry's case file. He is constantly licking his thumb and flipping through the numerous pages.\n\n\"Henry?\" asks Mr. Hoffer. \"Where are we?\" Mr. Hoffer's eyes squint as he probes Henry and his response. \"I asked how you are feeling physically and emotionally since the crash.\"\n\n\"Crash? What crash?\"\n\n\"That's just what I thought.\" He scribbles notes in his file. \"Continue please with what you were saying.\"\n\nHenry clears his throat and mutters, \"God is a playwright.\" He clears his throat again. \"No, he is a medieval King. I'm his jester. He created Radcliffe as preternatural court for me to perform on. He throws me into arduous circumstances, and then looks down at me to give him a laugh when I struggle. I bet he sits up there with other angels with a belly full of wine or nectar or whatever it is they drink; a celestial or heavenly circle-jerk of the gods. They are all getting in a good laugh. He surrounds me with a whole bunch of Puritanical born again country bumpkins who look at me like I'm a walking disease. I am just stuck in some sort of white trash limbo.\"\n\nMr. Hoffer keeps his head buried in the case file. \"Man created God, why not be your own God? All you have to do is merely act as such. However by being your own God that would mean that it is you who put yourself in these situations. Who would you blame then? God is man's invisible manifestation of blame and pain.\"\n\nHenry is momentarily vexed and dejected. He can feel sweat on his palms and a bead slowly roll down his forehead. \"I guess it was easier that way,\" he says fumbling. \"There has always been something that pulls me into undisclosed or camouflaged scenarios. I don't know what it is. I wonder sometimes if there is a part of my being that is undiscovered or if there is something that I have subconsciously sheltered that slowly snakes through the cracks of my deliberation.\"\n\n\"I see. So another part of you is compelling foreign urges upon you and making you act in ways which are dissociated from your own course of thought? That has nothing to do with any God or whatever. That is you acting upon your basic animalistic impulses. There is nothing celestial, transcendental, or divine about it. It is basic, elementary. It is your right which gives you the tools to make your own meanings and shape your own life. I thought that was something you of all people should know before you started looking for a crutch. That will be enough of that. Now on to more important stuff; how is work?\"\n\n\"I don't hate it. I don't love it. It just is. I do the same thing everyday, in succession; it is all part of a routine.\"\n\n\"I meant the people,\" he says frustratingly. \"How are your relationships with co-workers? I know you have some degree of difficulty connecting.\"\n\n\"I stopped trying. Well I guess I never tried. Why should I? I don't pay attention to their laughs when I turn around. I just do my job and avoid. It is all I can do really to keep me going.\" Henry adjusts himself in his seat which grinds from the later of rust on the hinges. \"As a matter of fact, I think I hate the people. They disgust me. I don't know what compels me to get up and go everyday. Every single one of them thinks they are better and smarter than me. They are no more intelligent than the trash they throw down on their own streets.\"\n\nTwo flies buzz by Henry's head. He just moves his head around to avoid them, not even raising one hand.\n\n\"I understand there is an anniversary coming soon? Would you like to discuss that? Remorse? Regret?\" asks Mr. Hoffer.\n\n\"I have none of those. I didn't do anything in which either of those feelings has crossed my mind. She made her decision and died with it. It makes me sad that she felt giving up was her only way to get through.\" Henry's eyes begin to drift off, engulfed inside his head. \"I still dream about it. Waking up, walking up the stairs from my room to the door leading to our kitchen. Sometimes I open the door to a wall, other times I open it and see her on the floor, lifeless. But when I really look, I don't know if it is her. It is like looking at an outagraph photo, you know where you take a picture of something then cut the subject out of the picture. But then again, I am not in the kitchen, but a room lit in red. When I turn to go back to my room, it is still my room, but all my furniture is rearranged. It is alarming to think about it, but when I am there I am comfortable. I think I have found freedom in the fact that she may be in a better place, after all it sure is not here. You have to leave this place to truly be free.\"\n\n\"I know what and outagraph is.\" Mr. Hoffer closes the case file and lays it on top of his empty desk. The two flies make their way to the case files and start copulating mechanically, spreading germs and clones\"\n\nHe stares at Henry, who is still not there, through a lowered brow. \"Freedom can be found in a lot of ways, Henry,\" he voice as low as his brow. \"People who look for freedom seldom find it. Freedom finds you, Henry. However without Hope, there is no freedom. So Hope is all but gone from you?\"\n\nHenry finally leaves his visions and responds,\" Hope is never gone. Hope never existed.\"\n\nI\n\nThe summer ends and the fall begins. A new semester at Radcliffe University is about to commence. To come to Radcliffe University is to come to the place where Satan fell from Heaven and straight to hell. Or paradise as one would say. Buried in the heart of the North River Valley, it is miles from the interstate or anything resembling normal civilization. The Institution breathes and feeds economic life into the struggling city that surrounds it. The train tracks and road, only one of each leading in and out, slither through dead tree covered mountains with steep cliffs on each side that drop like the hopes and dreams of the students and townies, back down into the Valley which itself is gashed by a river with the undercurrent that swallows lives.\n\nOne particular cattle car is the one carrying Tony. Tony is looking out the window, sitting with his feet on the seat and his arms around his shins, bare knees poking through the frayed holes in his denim jeans. He is unaware and uncaring of his surroundings. Lonely hoards of students fill out the rest of the space. His eyes are cold blue and his hair is shoulder length and golden, skin white as snow.\n\nNausea is settling in the stomachs of the other sad students as all they see is sorrow and poverty. Every other house on the street looks abandoned or neglected by its tenant. Boards or cellophane cover windows, boards on the front porches are rotted and upended, roofs are caved in. This is the epitome of destitute. Students can't live in those houses. Could they? Does the City of Radcliffe allow this? The University?\n\nAll of the students eventually turn there attention to the Gate House. A large ominous, sprawling brick disaster of a building with an archway for the single lane train track and two long identical halls on each side with blacked out windows. The sign right above the key stone of the archway is supposed to read 'Radcliffe University' but some letters are missing so it actually reads 'Ra-c-iff- Uni-ers-ty.' Dead corn fields adorn the front of the flat lands of building. There seems to be spray-painted graffiti words on the two wings. As the cattle car train pulls closer and starts slowing, the words are visible: 'Turn Around' on the left wing and 'Go Back' on the right. Surprising it is that the University left this up for incoming students. The admissions office is located within. The black metal gate swings open allowing the lone train to pull through and drop the students off directly inside the University walls, where they find several desks with admissions officers ready and willing to tell each and every student where they will be staying. Tony steps off like a king, hair blowing in the breeze. He has only brought one rattle snake suitcase with him. It is all he needs. His gaze turns to the large twelve story dormitory, Fuse Hall. Fuse Hall is the largest of all dormitories, made of brick; it is the oldest as well. The cornerstone of the University, there are vines crawling up the front two wings which extend from the lobby in the middle. The wings are four stories tall and above the lobby the rooms form a tower that is capped off with a clock tower that can be seen from all over campus. The clock within has no hands and the numbers are in reverse order.\n\nCars are scattered all along the parking lots of the dormitories, filled with the luggage of incoming students. The cars not parked are trying to find spaces and their horns are screaming at folks trying to do the same.\n\n\"Not much luggage, did you bring everything you need?\" says a young man, dressed as a concierge. He speaks with a caring, and nurturing tone. He is wearing a black suit and white gloves, although the fingertips of the gloves have been clipped off.\n\n\"This is it. Just tell me where I am staying. You really don't even need to walk me in,\" says Tony.\n\n\"Yes sir. As you wish sir. Do you have a ticket or some form of identification so I can assist you further?\"\n\nTony reaches into his pocket and pulls his ticket out, which the man looks at.\n\n\"Fuse Hall, sir.\"\n\n\"I know where that is. Thanks.\"\n\n\"Please let me show you to your room.\"\n\nThey walk through the large lobby that has two elevators, both out of order, so they take the stairs to the second floor. The wing hallway is long and just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. They come to a door, which is already open and when they walk in. They see a tall, skinny, and very dark black man with buck teeth wearing a white tank top and athletic shorts. His hair is dyed bright orange and spiked with glue. He sees them and sashes over to them with his hand extended. \"Heyyy, how you doin'? You must be Tony? My name is Fabian. We are roomies this year,\" says the dark man with an overpowering lisp.\n\nTony shakes his hand then looks down at his. He slowly places his suitcase on the floor without taking his eyes off of Fabian. \"I'm just going to drop these off real quick to get my other stuff. We'll be right back,\" he says quickly. Tony turns and he and the young man leave shutting the door behind them.\n\nThey begin their walk down the thin hallway again back outside. The young man cannot hide his curiosity much longer. \"What seems to be the problem, sir?\"\n\n\"I did my half, all Mitch had to do was sign that damn form and I wouldn't have Ru Paul as my roommate,\" Tony responds.\n\n\"Always someone else's fault. I am sorry I should not have said that. Who is this Mitch you speak of?\"\n\n\"I have a bad feeling about this semester.\"\n\n\"I have never heard of a bad semester at Radcliffe University; the finest Institution in the North River Valley.\"\n\n\"Again, Mitch's fault. Did that guy have nipple rings?\" questions Tony.\n\nThey dodge through luggage carrying people at the elevators and take the stairs back down to the lobby and then out the front door.\n\n\"I sure hope Mitch gets here soon; he said he was going to be here at about one or so. Which actually means he will be here at three,\" Tony continues. Each passing student or parent cannot look past his long blonde hair.\n\n\"There's something foreboding about this place. I can feel it. Something is speaking to me,\" he sighs. His voice is beginning to break with static.\n\nThey reach the quad outside Fuse Hall. Tony looks at a mother and son about to go their separate ways. The mother turns to him and looks into his eyes. Her tears begin as a slow drip here and there and then finally the levee breaks, she reaches over to her son, grabs him in her arms and her tears crash on his shoulder. Caught off guard he looks at her stunned for a moment and then lazily puts his arms around her. When she finally pulls away, Tony sees that her makeup has run down her face. What a terrible sight, he thinks to himself.\n\n\"I love you, son,\" she says through the buzzing and sniffling.\n\n\"I love you too, mom. Please drive safe.\" the son rewards her with a smile of confidence.\n\n\"In a short time, you will be dead too.\" the young concierge says. His mouth continues to move as his voice turns to white noise.\n\nThe mother caresses the son's face with the back of her hand. He merely stares at her hand as it glides from his temple to his chin.\n\nTony watches the mother walk away, still wiping tears from her face. She hops in her minivan and pulls away. He turns and looks around campus and watches other students and their families. He looks at his building first floor to twelfth. Then down at his clothes. Something is not right. The feeling passes and now he does not care. An alarm sounds. The concierge disappears.\n\n\"Fucking Mitch, man,\" he scoffs.\n\nHe turns walks alone down the side walk towards the other side of campus. Random people stop what they're doing and stare at him; he just ignores and continues walking. He walks with his head down hoping to blend in. He occasionally looks up at the environment around. Not the people. All the dormitories are old and made of brick. Lawns lush green and freshly cut but only for the presentation of the opening semester. The sun is has yet to shine. He finally happens upon Morelit Hall which is a wide, three-story dormitory, second largest to Fuse Hall, by the amount of rooms. There is a nice quad, with a ledge, or stage, in front of the building.\n\nTony walks in the front door, turns right and continues to walk down the hall. At the end of the hallway to the right is the elevator which he rides. After getting out of the elevator at the third floor, he turns left down the hallway. There at the other end is Bryan, an old friend of Tony's, wearing American Eagle's finest; a tee shirt, plaid shorts and flip flops. He has a beard, no mustache and short dark hair. He double-glances Tony and mumbles something disparaging under his breathe. \"What you know good, bro?\" yells an over joyous Bryan, who throws his hands in the air in faux celebration.\n\n\"My importance to you is scary. What the fuck are you wearing? Did the country punk turn pretty?\" Tony asks in a disgusted voice.\n\n\"You're one to talk. Where is your bandana and studded belt?\"\n\n\"They wouldn't let me wear them on the train. I'll be ready by tonight.\"\n\n\"Same here so get off my ass,\" says Bryan as they walk down the hall towards his room.\n\n\"My bad dude,\" Tony says smiling, enjoying the reaction he pulled from his friend. \"Your roommate got here yet?\"\n\n\"I hope he doesn't show up. I called this dude a few days ago to go over some details, and I couldn't understand a damn thing he said. He's from some hick part of the state and his accent and slang had feeling down about this semester. I have to live with that for the next four months?\"\n\nThey finally reach Bryan's room. He pulls his key out, unlocks the door and opens it. The room is barren except for two twin beds, two desks and one dresser with a large mirror attached. Brad merely throws his luggage on the ground by the door and says, \"I need some smokes let's get outta here.\"\n\nTony and Bryan walk on the outskirts of the University on the sidewalk. People are parked on medians and on the side of the roads still unloading and carrying luggage. It seemingly never ends.\n\n\"These parents have no idea what their kids are going to do once they leave. Freedom is a drug, made to be abused,\" Tony says.\n\n\"Well I am sure they won't end up like us. They couldn't handle doing the things we do,\" Bryan says confidently.\n\n\"Freedom is a scary thing to possess, if you know what it means to you,\" Tony runs his fingers through his hair.\n\n\"Do anything fun over the summer?\"\n\n\"Besides work, no. I bought a new pickup truck; four wheel drive, big ass super swampers,\" Bryan says giggling.\n\n\"The anarchistic redneck.\"\n\n\"Damn right. Dude I am thinking about a nickname.\"\n\n\"For you?\"\n\n\"Yes\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Mongoose.\"\n\n\"Mongoose?\"\n\n\"Mongoose, bro! Look!\"\n\nBryan lifts up his shirt to show his flabby stomach, and a Mongoose head tattoo on his chest. Tony looks at is disgust. It looks like prison ink.\n\n\"You're a fucking clown, dude,\" Tony mutters.\n\nThey finally make it to the convenience store, which is packed with humans. All of the visitors are inside buying drinks, snacks, magazine, etc. Tony and Bryan fight their way through the front door to the counter and get in the long line that wraps around the store. The shelves and coolers look barren. They buy packs of Marlboro Red 100s, the long harsh cigarettes, and fight their way back out of the store, and back to Bryan's dormitory.\n\n\"Where's the sunshine at?\" Bryan questions.\n\n\"Fuck if I know. I don't care to see it anyways,\" Tony responds.\n\n\"Well I have some stuff in my bag that will brighten us up.\"\n\n\"I was hoping you would say that.\"\n\n\"I think I might actually start charging you.\"\n\n\"You enjoy my company far too much to charge me,\" Tony quips with a grin.\n\nTony looks to the sky and notices the clouds are getting darker for an impending storm. The wind not only shakes the colored leaves off the branches and to the ground, but also sends his hair flowing astray. The skies erupt and the rains pours. The students and parents that were outside unpacking, start hustling and running inside to avoid being wet. Tony and Bryan keep strolling along towards the dormitory and get there without a care in the world.\n\nThey walk along the hallway to the elevator, which they ride to the third floor, and finally get to Bryan's room. Once they walk inside, Bryan goes to the side pocket of his larger suitcase and pulls out a small baggie with some pot in it. Tony digs into his pocket and pulls out a small two piece bowl which he screws together. Bryan hands him the bag and he sits on the table, puts a few pinches of green on the bowl and lights. The room instantly becomes smoky and hazy.\n\n\"Dude hold on, man, I have to shut the door,\" Bryan shouts running towards the door to shut and lock it.\n\nTony just carelessly waves him off and continues smoking. He takes another hit and finally hands it over to Bryan who does the same.\n\nAll of the sudden the door lock begins to shake and rattle. Tony sprints over to the window to open it and try to let some smoke out. Bryan rifles through his bag and finds a can of smoke neutralizer and begins to spray it all around the room. Nothing helps. The door opens wildly and-\n\n\"Yoooo, what's good schnig?\" shouts this red haired kid, about nineteen years old with a slight tan. His hair is short on the sides with some length on top which is curls. He looks like Jerry Lee Lewis. \"Ch-yeah! Dale-bo is finally at Rad-town!\"\n\nTony and Bryan are shocked, but relieved and slightly confused at what has just transpired.\n\n\"What'd he just say?\" Tony whispers to Bryan.\n\n\"I have no earthly idea.\"\n\n\"That's d-block slang baby. Woo!\" shouts Dale overexcited. \"It smells fresh in here.\"\n\n\"Sure does,\" Tony giggles; as all he can breathe in is the smoke in the air, which is starting to add to the buzz he was initially getting.\n\n\"Mind if I jump in? I got my own, too,\" Dale adds.\n\n\"I am never ever going to have to pay, sweet!\" Tony says. \"Well, I already feel fine now that I have gotten that into my life, so I will step aside and let you two get acquainted. I also need to snake my stuff before my roommate starts sniffing my underpants.\"\n\n\"Just imagine what he was thinking when you walked in that room with that long, golden hair of yours?\" quips Bryan laughing.\n\n\"I will be right back. While I am gone, how about you go fuck yourself,\" says Tony frustrated.\n\nTony is standing outside of his door at Fuse Hall, hesitant to go in. He takes a deep breath, looks up at the ceiling, exhales and walks in. No one's there. Tony goes to one of the beds in the room where Fabian put his bag. It is still unzipped, so he stayed out. He unzips the case, grabs a few clothes out, a bag with toiletries and runs in the bathroom. He is thinking of a shower that merely consists of a once over of soap and shampoo. He decided against taking a shower. He walks over and looks into the mirror, tries running a brush through his long hair and becomes fixated on his reflection. Like Narcissus. He looks down at the counter and sees his black bandana on the top of his clothes. He smiles, and puts on his black heavy metal tee shirt. He pulls his studded belt through every loop in his pants but leaves the belt buckle cocked to the side of his hip. Lastly he slides the bandana over his hair and teases it out so it lies out over top. He looks at himself and smiles, he is now comfortable.\n\nBack at Morelit Hall, he merely strolls around the halls looking at room numbers, peering into other peoples rooms and finally goes to the staircase to the third floor. He struggles up the three flights of stairs and finally gets to the third floor. He sees Dale and Bryan's room but just walks by. Walking clear across the building he finally spots room number 301 and is compelled to walk in. Mitch is there unloading his luggage. Mitch is tall, slender, and shaggy haired. He is also Tony's best friend; maybe his only real friend. Mitch is unpacking his bags and placing finely folded clothes into the dresser drawers. This room looks different than the other rooms he has seen or peered into. There are three beds, two are bunked. The room has a large window with a wonderful full view of the University.\n\nMitch finally takes notice of Henry. \"What's good man?\"\n\n\"Same old shit brother.\"\n\nThey come together, clasps hands, and shoulder pump.\n\n\"Man, you're not going to believe what happened on my way up here.\"\n\n\"Get lost?\"\n\n\"I did bro. I ran over one of those shredded tires that you see on the highways. The tire wrapped around my fucking axle and I had to pull over on the side of the road and cut the damn thing off. Luckily I had this.\"\n\nMitch pulls out an eight inch deer hunting knife. Extremely sharp.\n\n\"I don't think you're allowed to have that here. But I'm glad you're alright, man. Oh by the way I'm moving in.\"\n\n\"Good. So far I'm the only one living here. No roommate yet.\"\n\n\"Well I have a story for you too. Since you didn't take care of your end of our room deal, I was placed with a roommate who is a gay black dude; like flaming gay, like I'm afraid to pass out drunk in my room gay. My own mother was laughing at me.\"\n\nMitch puts his hands over his face and laughs hysterically.\n\n\"Oh my god that sucks!\"\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah it does. Glad you think it is so funny. It's your fault. Come on man hurry up and get ready. We're pre gaming in Bryan's room. They're just right down the hall.\"\n\n\"This is definitely going to be a crazy semester.\" Mitch says as they both walk out the door and down the hallway, without locking their door.\n\n\"So what's good for tonight?\" Mitch asks.\n\n\"You know I never make plans.\"\n\n\"Right, right. I need cigarettes.\"\n\n\"Just smoke some of mine. I don't feel like waiting for your pokey ass anymore.\"\n\nTony and Mitch just push a door open and smoke files out. Tony jumps in between Dale and Bryan and starts smoking as well. Dale and Bryan don't say much as they are already stoned outside of their mind. Mitch just watches. He does however reach into a refrigerator and grabs two cans of Milwaukee's Best Light, the Beast. He pops the tops of his and Tony's then hands one to Tony, who immediately throws it to his lips and chugs.\n\n\"Shit, I feel vegetation coming over me.\" Tony says slowly.\n\n\"So where are we going tonight?\" Bryan asks.\n\n\"Who knows, there's always something here,\" Tony answers. \"I assume that there has to be something because there's nothing else to do.\"\n\n\"When there's nothing to do, get tore up, right?\" interjects Dale.\n\n\"I guess,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Well, let's just walk around and see if we find something that interests us. There has to be some sort of fraternity party to celebrate the opening weekend of the new semester,\" says Bryan.\n\n\"New dean this year I heard. I heard he wants to make some changes. He doesn't like the reputation this school has. Him and the Sheriff are working together,\" adds Dale.\n\n\"The university and the city are thinking of better ways to fuck us out of more money? Parking tickets and drunk in publics just aren't enough anymore are they?\" says Tony.\n\nThey all laugh. Tony just shakes his head.\n\n\"This is true. New rules; they're trying to clean things up. They don't like the party school things, drugs in the streets, homeless people, budget and whatever else. It's all about change man,\" Mitch advises.\n\n\"Change, change, change. Are they going to cut out sex too? They must know about this place's reputation for promiscuous, unprotected sex,\" questions Tony. \"It is all so archaic to me.\"\n\n\"Something you don't take advantage of,\" Mitch says looking at Tony, who just stares back at Mitch.\n\n\"I'll leave. Fuck that,\" yells Bryan.\n\n\"Well, I know frats don't throw down as often. Dude from the rugby team told me earlier. They're not even going to throw down on Thursday's anymore. They used to have parties all the time there,\" adds Mitch.\n\n\"If you're not on 'roids you're not getting laid there with all the girls wanting rugby guys,\" says Tony. \"I am ready to get the hell out of here before I literally become cemented in this room. Let's go.\"\n\nWhen the sun goes down, the phrase \"freaks come out at night\" never rang truer. The brick buildings look older and monstrous. The streets are as dirty as the townie mountain men cooking meth in their trailer home bathrooms.\n\nTony, Dale, and Bryan venture to the 'far side' of campus, where University housing is naught. The houses were built in the 1860s and without renovations. The students renting the rundown houses and apartments yell and scream and laugh. The guys are having the worst time walking. Their legs are heavy and heads swimming. They aimlessly walk the streets, only lit by faint porch lights. They finally find themselves at the door of a town house. It is a group off four town homes combined with a front porch for all. Trash is scattered on the porch. Cigarette butts and boxes, dead plants and beer cans decorate what could be a comfortable lounge area. Tony knocks.\n\n\"Who is it?\" calls the voice from the other side of the door.\n\n\"Axl Rose,\" answers Tony, looking at the other guys laughing.\n\nThe tenant opens the door. He's a 22 year old geek. It oozed off of him but he tried to cover it up by nice clothes and a cocky smugness.\n\n\"Is there a party here?\" asks Tony.\n\n\"Get the fuck off my porch!\" yells the geek, trying to be tough.\n\n\"Clean your damn porch,\" says Dale.\n\nThe tenant walks through the doorway looking for confrontation, but they jump off the side of the porch, laughing and still antagonizing him as they run up the street.\n\n\"What about that house up there?\" Bryan says exhausted, his run turning into a jog.\n\nThe street sharply turns straight up the side of a mountain and at the end of the street is the Theta Chi frat house. No one answers but they continue to run up the street, the mountain. Their legs are getting extremely tired. They are no longer running; they are walking but pushing off of their legs with their arms. It has become a full body workout. Their cigarette ravaged lungs are not holding up. They are wheezing badly. Bryan is on the verge of passing out. But as soon as they begin to fade, they make it to the driveway of the house where people are already outside drinking and smoking. There are also people in the porch to the side of the house, and also people under the porch hidden by the dark. No telling what they are doing.\n\n\"I hope they have water here, damn. How much to get it?\" says Tony, absolutely exasperated.\n\n\"No charge, man. These frats can't charge anymore. Unless they pay the University or city,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Hell yeah! I am glad because I didn't bring any money.\"\n\nAfter walking through the front door, they're immediately in the dirty kitchen. The yellow tile floor is covered in a thin layer of muddy water from the shoes of all the people inside. To the right, there's a room lit with neon lights and a hookah in the center of people sitting in a circle. Frats dudes, random chicks take hits. The boys proceed to the back room with wooden floors; a slightly lit room with a keg in the far corner which is surrounded by drunk students filling their plastic cups. They get their cups and proceed to the back whilst looking around for people for girls. All of the windows are covered with black bed sheets.\n\n\"Keg stand!\" shots a random frat brother.\n\nA hot blonde girl, in a short skirt and heels, gets snagged by two frat brothers who grab her ankles and lift her in the air to take a keg stand. The crowd chants her time all together. Her friends are around her cheering her on. After a lousy twelve seconds she taps out her face is red and her mouth and nose covered in beer. Her and her friends get a laugh.\n\n\"She isn't that hot,\" says Tony.\n\n\"She might be easy!\" laughs Bryan.\n\n\"Perfect for you, Tone. You need someone who doesn't know the word no,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"This place blows. Where's Dale?\" says Tony.\n\nDale has slipped them without notice. They turn to go out the room. The crowd is growing and space is shrinking. Every step they get knocked back and forth and finally realize that Dale has found his way in the circle of frat dudes and cling-on folk. He seems to have fit in well with them; probably lying to them about wanting to join their frat. They're enjoying it and thinking about the things they're going to do to him while he rushes. Their smiles are slightly evil and over long, evilly hyperactive. Tony sees the smiles are growing longer than usual. Dale is getting over excited. The hoses from the hookah pass around and white smoke fills the room. Tony just merely rubs his eyes and turns away.\n\n\"Yo dick, you alright, we're leaving,\" Mitch says to Tony, startling him for a second.\n\n\"What the fuck we just got here!\" answers Tony. \"Don't forget the leech in the smoke.\"\n\nBryan walks in angrily on a mission, grabs Dale by the collar of his shirt and yanks him out of his seat. \"Get the fuck up! Let's go.\"\n\n\"Where are we going?\" asks Dale.\n\n\"Out.\"\n\nThe guys spill out of the house. The night is darker, blacker. People are walking everywhere. Some drunk and stumbling, others just aimlessly walking hoping to find somewhere to drink. Smoke.\n\n\"Bryan, you may have to finally call your girlfriend. I'm sure they are doing something,\" says Tony.\n\n\"She told me to hit her up, but I really didn't want to.\"\n\n\"She has hot friends, right?\" asks Dale.\n\n\"Let's hope,\" says Tony.\n\n\"Beer pong? I would really like to play some beer pong,\" chimes Mitch.\n\n\"Damn right. You know what would be cool; if they had their very own room. Like a beer pong stadium,\" says Tony, envisioning it in his mind.\n\n\"I'm not really worried about that. I just want to play. It's better than just standing stationary until getting a beer. At least we could all do something competitive,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"I think I am going to join that frat. Those dudes seem alright. They was telling me the get laid whenever they want, get their smoke for free. Wouldn't that be sweet,\" says Dale.\n\n\"Go ahead bro. you would be their little bitch for months,\" says Bryan. \"I hope you know how to clean shit from toilets, wipe the brothers' asses, eat cheerios out of a bowl of beer, drink bong water mixed with piss, and drink the left over beers from parties after they've already sat hot overnight-\"\n\n\"Alright I get it,\" interrupt Dale.\n\n\"All for their entertainment,\" Bryan says proudly.\n\n\"I'm debating you doing all that stuff for our entertainment,\" says Tony getting a laugh from everyone, except Dale who feels slightly embarrassed. \"Besides, man, there is something about those dudes, I didn't' like. They seemed; fake. Not real.\"\n\n\"Ch-yeah. Maybe you right,\" Dale says.\n\n\"Fucking whitey,\" says Bryan under his breath.\n\nBryan's girlfriend Kristian struts from the front door to the front lawn to meet the guys as they come. She is way out of Bryan's league. Tall, long legged and tan she shakes her brown hair around and it flails like angels hair. Tony cannot help but wonder why she is wearing short shorts with the weather the way it is.\n\n\"Hey boys!\" Kristian says voice smooth. She looks to Tony in particular and says, \"Polar bear. The Keg's inside.\"\n\nHer and Bryan walk in the house. Mitch and Tony stay outside and light cigarettes. Dale follows Bryan.\n\n\"Polar bear?\" Mitch asks. \"Does this chick even know you?\"\n\n\"I assume it is on account of my pale ass skin,\" Tony answers.\n\n\"Kind of fucked up.\"\n\n\"She looks like a slut anyways; she probably has the gifts that keep on giving.\"\n\n\"So. You probably have more STDs than Jim Morrison and James Bond combined.\"\n\nTony looks at Mitch in amazement at what he just said. Taken aback and offended. He takes a drag off his cigarette and blows the smoke in Mitch's face and walks toward the door.\n\n\"If I were you I would get myself checked out!\"\n\nTony walks into the living and is drawn to another long haired man sitting on a sofa, guitar in hand playing and singing folk songs. The crowd gathered around him is swaying back and forth completely taken in by the gentle chords. Tony tries to find another room as quick as possible.\n\nHe makes his way into the kitchen where the table takes up one half of the kitchen. The kitchen itself looks very 1960s, lots of yellows and oranges and plastic furniture. In the corner of the kitchen by the refrigerator stands the keg, still cold and in a large blue tote and no line to wait. Beer pong is going on in the adjacent sunroom.\n\n\"Hey dude, go sign us up for the next game,\" shouts Tony at Mitch who is at the keg filling his cup.\n\nMitch hands his cup to Tony. \"You got it boss.\"\n\nBryan walks in adjusting his belt buckle with Kristian following closely behind holding his hand; he is trying to let everyone know he just got laid with his huge shit eating grin.\n\n\"Yeah! Yes I did!\" Bryans says laughing.\n\n\"I didn't fucking say anything,\" says Tony. \"If not you it would've been someone else.\"\n\n\"Get ready man, we're next. Bread and butter baby,\" Mitch says.\n\n\"Fifteen games in a row son!\" Mitch shouts.\n\nTony is sitting on a brick ledge behind Morelit Hall. Rain is falling and there are people sliding down the hill behind them on trash bags.\n\n\"I'm sorry, what?\" Tony says, seemingly lost.\n\n\"We dominated beer pong, fifteen games in a row. We were beating everyone. Random people just kept coming up and trying their hand. All failed. Everybody was getting pissed at themselves, and even at us. Bryan and Dale in particular. Bryan more so. He started throwing balls against the walls and yelling at Dale. Hilarious. We just kept continuing to make shots. These two girl partners were shaking their asses and showing their boobs to try and distract us, but to no avail. We're pros and we have seen it all before man.\n\n\"That's never happened to me before man. Holy fuck,\" Tony says, still confused but starting to feel more comfortable.\n\n\"Bryan and Dale were really getting hot man. I thought Bryan was going to fuck Dale up. He just started beaming the pong balls at the cups.\"\n\nTony is sitting motionless, peering off into the sky; almost looking for something in the dark, cloudy heavens.\n\n\"What's up man, you alright? Drink too much?\" Mitch asks with concern.\n\n\"This is what it's all about man: living a dream. Not a care in the world. This is freedom.\" Tony surmises.\n\nMitch just nods, agreeing but not knowing where this is all coming from. \"Living a dream.\"\n\n\"Sometimes when a night goes this well,\" Tony stops and pulls a crushed pack of cigarettes from his pocket. All the cigarettes look broken. \"I just wait for a catastrophe.\"\n\nTony and Mitch are sitting together in auditorium classroom; Tony pretending to take notes and Mitch falling asleep with a thick textbook and folder on his lap\n\nA teacher's voice comes in and out to Tony-\"...in the 17th century however, that's when there were great strides in the development in the study of geology...\"\n\nTony looks over at Mitch who is sleeping, but with his eyes open.\n\n\"...this was one of the major points in religion against science. The geology and origin of the Earth...\" says the teacher whose words still evaporates and hangs in the air.\n\nA girl is sitting beside Tony is text messaging, clearly in her own little world. She is a little on the hefty side with dyed back hair. The constant tapping and clicking begins to peck at Tony\n\nMitch's head keeps bobbing and moving around. His eye balls are moving around rapidly.\n\n\"Damn, I should be high right now,\" says the girl under her breath as she exhales in boredom.\n\n\"Me too,\" Tony says injecting himself into her own conversation.\n\n\"You smoke?\"\n\n\"Are you serious? Everyday. The long hair didn't give it away?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah sorry, what was I thinking?\" she says sarcastically.\n\n\"So what are you doing after class?\" asks Tony.\n\n\"Nothing comes to mind.\"\n\n\"...next week we'll get into more of engineering geology and how it affects our current environment,\" again says the teacher.\n\n\"Well how about that,\" says Tony.\n\n\"How about that,\" mutters the girl, her eyes back to her phone.\n\nThe sounds of her clicking and tapping on her phone are starting to eat at Tony.\"\n\n\"Could you please fucking stop that? Who is that fucking important,\" Tony angrily whispers almost coming out of his seat.\n\n\"It is my mom, you son a bitch. Her sister has just been diagnosed with diabetes.\"\n\nTony is embarrassed and feels small. He slowly situates himself back into his chair. \"I am sorry to hear that.\"\n\n\"I am sure you are. I am leaving\" says the girl, who grabs her book bag and leaves.\n\nTony gets up too and follows her out of the classroom. Tony intentionally holds his notebook out to hit Mitch in the face to wake him up. It doesn't work.\n\nTony catches her outside of the classroom door.\n\n\"Look I really am sorry, is there anything I can do to make up for it?\"\n\nThe girl stops and turns around quickly and walks back to Tony.\n\n\"Look I am seriously about to pull a knife out of my back a stab you with it.\"\n\nTony stops and puts his hands up and quickly says \"I can get some smoke.\"\n\nThe girl squints, wanting to hear more.\n\n\"I can get some Northern Lights, for the both of us, if you'd like. You said you wanted to smoke and what better way to forget life's problems.\"\n\nShe lowers her guard and says, \"Let's go then.\"\n\nThey exit the hall and walk the sidewalks; Tony has no idea what he is going to do. Until he finally remember Bryan may have some if hasn't smoked it all already. Tony gets excited about his idea and walks quicker making it harder for the girl to keep up with him.\n\nThe campus is already buzzing with activity. Students are walking out of their dormitory halls going to class, the cafeteria hall, maybe someone else's room. There are small stand along the sidewalk as well some selling University shirts and some stands are frats or sororities recruiting new prospects.\n\n\"Slow down,\" calls out the girl who is getting further and further away.\n\nTony make is to Morelit Hall and walks in the door and finally realizes that the girl he just met isn't there. He becomes worried and looks around. Nothing.\n\nHe turns around to walk back inside-\n\n\"Why did you run away!\" shouts the girl.\n\nTony jumps back frightened but relieved.\n\n\"It is inside, I will go get it, and you stay right here.\"\n\nTony runs through the door and down the hallway to the elevator. He pushes the button to open the door but nothing. He turns and goes the stair way and runs up the three flights of stairs and gets to Bryan and Dale's room. He knocks on the door but no one answers. He turns the door knob, it is unlocked and he opens the door slowly. No one is there. He runs over to Bryan's unpacked bags and starts digging in his belongings throwing shirts and jeans all over the room. He goes to the drawers in starts flipping through the folded clothes and finds an old pair of camouflaged shorts hidden in the sock drawer. He sticks his hand in the pocket and pulls out a zip lock bag with a small amount of marijuana inside. He stuffs the bag in his pocket and exits the room quickly, locking the door behind him. He checks the halls for activity but it is empty so takes flight back down the stairs to the hallways and back out the front door to meet the girl who is still standing in the same spot as Tony told her to.\n\n\"Ok all ready, want to go to your place,\" says Tony out of breath.\n\n\"Sure. My roommates are there so don't act suspicious.\"\n\n\"Got it.\"\n\nThey walk away from the Morelit Hall quad and off campus entirely. Tony walks slightly behind the girl. He hasn't even asked her what her name is. Nor does he really care. She doesn't either. They pass a small convenience store which has metal bars over the windows with a few homeless people standing behind it. However behind the store is the girl's house, which she rents with a few roommates. The girl takes her key ring out and unlocks the door. They walk in and her three roommates are sitting on a sofa directly in front of them watching a movie on the television, oblivious to them. the proceed down the hallway which is a straight shot from the front door, hang a left at the end of the hallway and make an immediate right into the girls room.\n\nThe girl pulls out a huge multi colored bong, a bubbler to be exact, from behind her vanity. It has to be about three feet tall. Tony has never seen anything like this and isn't quite ready for it. She's obviously done this many times before. She packs the bong and hands it to Tony with a smile. Her first one directed his way. Tony grabs the bong without a clue what to do; staring at it nervously.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing? It isn't going to bite you\" she asks agitated.\n\n\"What is this?\"\n\nShe thinks she's with an amateur. In many regards she is. She grabs the bong from him.\n\n\"Watch,\" she says.\n\nShe lights the shotgun and the greenies burn. She ever so softly draws smoke up the tube and when smoke completely fills the tube she pulls at the shotgun and with one good pull, gets all the smoke. She holds for a second and exhales, again ever so softly. Another smile. Tony sits in amazement. He has never even seen a guy do that.\n\n\"Wow, you're good,\" he says. \"Ok my turn.\"\n\nTony grabs the bong takes a huge rip, which he repeats. The girl grabs the bong and takes hers. They both start laughing. The girl walks over to a jewelry box and pulls out another small bag; this bag containing white powder. She sprinkles a little on top and passes it to Tony who takes another hit, and then he freezes. The girl laughs at him but Tony is completely unable to defend himself.\n\nTony cannot move. He looks relaxed but looking terribly high. The girl and her roommates come in and out of his vision, their faces long and eyes blood shot. Then the eyes transform into mirrors so he can see himself. But he doesn't recognize himself as himself. He can hear people talking around him. All of their voices are distorted, like people talking with marbles in their mouth and fading as if someone else is adjusting the volumes of the voices. Their bodies stretch and then fold over top of him. The walls elongate and race into a black vanishing point.\n\nThe voices fade into the oblivion as Tony begins to sink into the floor. The room turns black. Every word that has ever been uttered to Tony is racing through his head. Some things he has never heard and don't have meaning also. The words are layered on top of each other.\n\nMitch finally comes in the room he looks at the girls, who look as if Tony may have just somehow ended up there without them knowing. He reaches over to Tony and claps his hands in his face trying to get a response.\n\nThe girls start doing tribal dances around him.\n\n\"Wake up\" Mitch says but the words and his mouth aren't matching. He finally grabs Tony by his feet and drags him out of the room, down the small then large hallway, then out of the front door to his car which is parked outside. He leaves a limp Tony on the ground as he goes to the passenger side door, opens it and puts Tony inside. He slams the door shut, gets in the driver seat and pulls away from the house.\n\nTony looks up and stares through the moon roof. He rises from his seat with Mitch merely watching. He opens the moon roof and pokes his head out. His hair flies back from the wind. He looks up at the night sky as the grey and purple clouds swirl within the black air rapidly.\n\nTony rolls over, awakened, by Mitch kicking his bed, looking like hell.\n\n\"Damn son, you look like shit. You go home with that chick?\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Mmm, yeah sure,\" says Tony unsure.\n\n\"Do any good?\"\n\n\"Good buzz I think. I don't remember much.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you know, it's probably for the best. Just because you look like a rock star, doesn't mean you can live like one.\"\n\n\"Practice makes perfect.\"\n\n\"Get up and let's go out back and smoke a cig?\"\n\n\"Definitely, I think I am a little hungry though.\"\n\n\"Alright, yeah, a burger sounds good.\"\n\nTony struggles to get up and falls out of the bed prompting Mitch to lend a hand. Tony adjusts the bandana on his head once he gets to his feet and they walk out the door, down the hallway to the elevator and wait for it to open. The stairs are definitely not an option.\n\nOnce the door opens, there is a small red haired girl standing innocently in the back corner of the elevator. She gets frightened when Tony walks in, trying to make herself as small as possible. Right before the door closes she sprints through them. Tony relishes the moment. \"Dude you eyes are so red right now it's sickening.\"\n\n\"Good\"\n\nThe elevator ride comes to an end at the first floor where they meet Dale and Bryan just coming back from class.\n\n\"We're getting some food, want some?\" Tony asks.\n\n\"Yeah, I'm starving. I'm craving a burger,\" answers Bryan.\n\n\"I'm down,\" says Dale. \"Speaking of who's throwing down tonight? Anybody?\"\n\n\"I don't even think I'm going out man. My stomach has been hurting like a bitch.\"\n\n\"You might want to get the sand out of your vagina too,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Yeah man. Your pussy bleeding?\" says Tony.\n\n\"Fuck you. No man. Lately I've just been feeling like I want to puke but can't and I have this sharp pain in my side. It's hard too.\"\n\n\"Beer helps. Always eases my pain,\" says Tony.\n\nThey walk out the front entrance door and Tony takes in a huge gulp of moist air.\n\n\"Dope too.\" says Dale.\n\n\"I doubt it. Look I am going back in. You all go without me.\"\n\n\"Fallen soldier,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Dude you cannot be serious,\" says Tony, who is growing frustrated. \"I have lost my appetite I am going back inside too.\"\n\n\"You know what, if you find something good, maybe.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Attaboy. I still don't have an appetite though.\"\n\nOn a bulletin board on the wall, adjacent to the front, there are fliers posted. Tony notices a fluorescent pink one in particular and pulls it off and starts reading.\n\n\"Hey guys, look at this,\" shouts Tony.\n\n\"What the hell is that?\" inquires Mitch.\n\n\"It says there's a sorority auction,\" says Tony.\n\n\"What's that?\" asks Bryan.\n\n\"I have no idea. Says you come and they auction off the girls for a night,\" says Tony.\n\n\"Tony, you're the man,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Seems weird to me. It reminds me of this one time I took my truck to hooters for a topless car wash and they washed everything except the top of the damn truck!\" says Bryan.\n\n\"Well, to me, it sounds like university endorsed prostitution. I'm in. Anyone want to go halves?\" says Tony whose eyes grow large and hearts beats fast.\n\n\"Fuck it. I'm down,\" answers Mitch.\n\n\"I'll think about it,\" says Bryan, wincing with pain and grabbing at the left side of his abdomen with both hands, his face going pale.\n\n\"Can you bring them to our room after you're done?\" says Dale\n\n\"No.\" says Tony.\n\n\"Let's get them to do Mad Dog hands?\" says Mitch.\n\n\"What?\" asks Tony.\n\n\"If they absolutely have to do anything we say, we tell them that we are going tape Mad Dogs to their hands and they can't take them off until they finish.\"\n\n\"Mitch, you're the man! We can probably get them to clean the room too; can't be a sexual thing, unless they really want to. You got to be crazy to think that.\"\n\nNestled inside a conference room, stands a small stage, four long bench tables and a podium in the center. At the front of the room is a group of girls dressed in their finest dresses and skirts, looking really sultry and whorish in nature, or Radcliffe classy. There are chairs set up for people to sit facing the stage. Tony and Mitch stand against the back wall because no seats are available. There's got to be at least two hundred guys and girls there. At the podium, the president of the sorority is getting papers together and ready to start the bidding.\n\n\"Welcome gentlemen. And ladies!\" says the sorority president.\n\nThe audience begins to cheer obnoxiously. Tony and Mitch merely clap, and examine the girls.\n\n\"This is the first annual Alpha Sigma Alpha sister auction. Now I want to reiterate that this is in no way sexual. And you only get the girls for 24 hours. That's really it. Let's start the bidding. \"\n\nThe crowd erupts again.\n\nTwo sorority sisters stumble across the stage, already wasted. Both in where short black dresses, one is tall the other short, both have blonde hair. Tony looks over at Mitch and smiles.\n\n\"I hope you brought your wallet,\" says Tony.\n\nMitch pulls it out, opens it for Tony, revealing several crisp bills. So fresh you can almost smell the tree from which they came from.\n\n\"Alright our first two ladies are a pair, they are Beth and Tina. They both, obviously enjoy to party and know how to have a great time\"-\n\n\"$20!\" shouts Tony with his hand raised.\n\n\"I hear $20, how about $30?\" says the president.\n\n\"$30!\" shouts a random voice from the crowd.\n\n\"$50!\" says Tony, looking around for whoever is trying to out bid him.\n\n\"Ok $50, do I hear $60? Going, once, going twice, sold the long haired guy in the back!\"\n\nMad Dog drinks are getting duct taped to two sorority girls' hands by Tony. Mitch is trying to tidy up the room a bit, but dirty clothes are piled by the opened window to air out and their small metal trash can is overflowing.\n\n\"I don't want both hands,\" Beth giggling.\n\n\"Me neither. This is a poor black man's drink,\" says Christina.\n\n\"Why's it got to be a race thing? Shut up and drink. We bought you remember,\" says Tony\n\n\"Wait they still have a room to clean, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, you are right. Let's start there.\"\n\n\"Why do you have trash bags on your bed?\" asks Christina smugly. \"This room is disgusting.\"\n\n\"That's none of your business. They're my bed sheets,\" answers Tony.\"Alright, look, we seem to have gotten started off on the wrong foot here. I'll tell you what; we have four mad dogs here. Out of the kindness of my heart and liver, I'll tape two to my hands and you two get just one each. Deal?\n\n\"Sure you want to do this?\" Mitch whispers to Tony.\n\n\"Fuck it. Why not?\"\n\nTony gets the girls to tape the Mad Dogs to both of his hands. The girls start randomly picking things up and throwing some things away. Tony holds his hands up for someone to open one of his drinks. Mitch obliges.\n\n\"Hey, one of our friends from this other frat is having a birthday party; kind of a 80s birthday party. I think we should all go,\" says Beth.\n\n\"I'm obviously ready but, well we got to get Cinderella over here ready for the ball,\" says Tony, motioning to Mitch who isn't in the room anymore.\n\n\"What do you mean, we are already dressed up,\" says Christina again with smugness.\n\nBeth sits down on Mitch unmade bed to get off her heels for a minute. She crosses her legs and her short black dress rises up and reveals that she has no panties on.\n\nTony cannot take his eyes off.\n\nMitch finally walks back into the room.\n\n\"Dude, she has no panties on,\" he whispers to Mitch.\n\n\"What? Are you serious?\"\n\n\"The tall, blonde one. No panties. Look,\" he says motioning cautiously. Her vagina is more evident then before. Shaved, clean and tan.\n\n\"Oh my God, dude.\"\n\n\"I have to show Bryan and Dale, hold on.\"\n\nTony exit's the room quickly and turns down the hallway and into a full on sprint. He reaches Bryan and Dale's room, peaks his head in and is completely out of breath.\n\n\"Dude, I have to show you something, come see this,\" says and exhausted Tony.\n\n\"What up?\" asks Dale, sitting at his desk staring at his laptop.\n\n\"You wouldn't believe it if I told you let's go.\"\n\nDale gets out of his chair quickly, while poor Bryan fights to get out of his bed. There is a small bucket by the head of the bed.\n\nTony has already taken off back to the room. Dale catches up quickly while Bryan walks slowly.\n\nTony gets to his door first then stops and waits for Dale and Bryan. Dale comes first, with an unsure expression on his face. Bryan struggles to stand up straight as the pain is making him double over.\n\n\"Ok before we go, I have to fill you in. Whatever you see, don't make a big deal out of it.\"\n\n\"You bought a girl didn't you?\" asks Bryan through his teeth.\n\n\"Why do you have Mad Dogs taped your hands your hands?\" asks Dale.\n\n\"I like to party. You'll be glad I did this for you guys!\" says Tony.\n\nThe door opens to-\n\n\"YAY! You're back,\" yells Beth.\n\nDale and Bryan smile.\n\n\"Yeah I just wanted my boys to join in on the party. This is Bryan and this is Dale,\" says Tony motioning to them both.\n\nTony walks to Mitch small refrigerator and gets them both a beer.\n\n\"Look at that one. Just look at her legs,\" Tony whispers in Bryan's ear.\n\nBryan stares as Beth crosses her legs again. Bryan's mouth is a gape.\n\n\"So you're coming out with us tonight right?\" says Tony. \"Funny how the pain just evaporates.\"\n\nBryan just nods his head, almost in a trance.\n\nBeth notices Bryan staring at her crotch, gets uneasy, and pulls her skirt down.\n\nTony raises his arm and chugs one of the Mad Dogs in one monstrous gulp. Everyone looks at him in awe. He wipes his mouth with the same arm and throws the other drink to his face and over fills his stomach. The wonder in the girls faces immediately turns to repulsion.\n\nEveryone is stumbling down the street, drunk and laughing. The girls swing back and forth putting their arms around the guys as they all walk. They aren't the only ones out. The streets are alive with humanity. The roads are slick having just been rained upon. The temperature is dropping rapidly.\n\nOutside of a seemingly well put together frat house, Beth knocks on the door and almost falls over from laughing so hard. Tony is gnawing away at the tape on his hands to rid himself of the Mad Dog bottles.\n\nA dude opens the door, recognizes Beth and Christina and invites them all in. he is a muscular guy with tattoos crawling up his neck, several piercing's in his eye brows and nose and a faux hawk. He is skeptical about the guys coming in, but they could care less and push through.\n\n\"That dude was grilling you hard man. He either wanted to fuck or fight you,\" Tony says to Bryan.\n\n\"He's a clown.\"\n\n\"You should go tell him that,\" advises Tony.\n\n\"I know that dude; actually, he is a fucking clown. I'll go tell him, watch.\"\n\nTony stands by the counter in the kitchen and watches Bryan walk up to the brother and they have an inaudible conversation. Bryan is doing his best Lyndon Johnson close talk impression. The brother looks uncomfortable as Bryan keeps mouthing the word 'clown'. The brother starts to laugh and walks away leaving Bryan defeated.\n\nTony notices a cake on the counter that no one is touching. A fully decorated cake. Tony starts pulling drawers open until he finds what he is looking for. A fork. Tony starts digging into the cake without a care in the world.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" says an unfamiliar feminine voice from behind him.\n\nTony doesn't acknowledge.\n\n\"UM, HELLO. EXCUSE ME,\" shouts the girl wildly.\n\n\"What woman? What! What! What?!\" says a perturbed Tony.\n\nTony turns around and sees the girl for the first time and isn't impressed at all.\n\n\"That's my fucking cake! I baked it for my friend!\" says the girl angrily.\n\n\"It's really good. Excuse me.\"\n\nTony gives the cold shoulder and turns back to the cake and eats again.\n\n\"What are you doing man? That's her cake!\" says Mitch.\n\n\"I'm taking her cake and eating it too. Besides, she needs no cake. Look,\" says Tony motioning to the girl. His words are starting slur deficiently.\n\n\"There's a late night at Kappa Sig. The girls have disappeared,\" says Mitch\n\n\"Where'd they go?\"\n\n\"Upstairs.\"\n\n\"I see. That was quick wasn't it? I can't see straight.\"\n\nThe stairs to the basement of the Kappa Sigma house are steep and covered in beer and piss which flows to the floor. Tony, Mitch, Bryan and Dale carefully walk down the stairs. Tony is doing is best to make every foot land properly, but he slips and has to kept upright by Mitch. Beer is served right at the door and in the middle of the floor girls are scantily dressed and dancing dirty with other girls and guys. The bass is pounding so hard from the speakers it is disrupting everyone's heart rhythm. The boys grab beers and start pounding. Beth and Christina have made their way here and start yelling for the boys to come in the middle of them and their friends to start dancing.\n\n\"Being with chicks like this makes me feel like a rock star,\" yells Tony whose voice can barely be heard over the music.\n\n\"You are a rock star,\" shouts back Bryan sarcastically.\n\n\"I want to hear you sing,\" says Beth.\n\n\"What?\" shouts Tony.\n\n\"I want to hear you sing,\" shouts Beth.\n\n\"Oh not tonight, I'm too hammered!\"\n\n\"That's when you'll be at your best,\" says Bryan.\n\nTony stands there as Christina and Beth walk over to a friend of theirs in the frat. He signals for Tony to walk over there. Tony stumbles over to him.\n\n\"You want to sing dude?\" says their friend.\n\n\"Sure why not, fuck it.\"\n\n\"Come over here and pick.\"\n\nTony flips through a book of CD's and pulls one out and hands it to the guy.\n\n\"Track number one man.\"\n\n\"Hell yeah you got it, bro. Nice choice.\"\n\nAnother frat guy hands Tony the microphone and says, \"Knock 'me dead, kid.\"\n\nTony looks around, throws his head back and his mouth opens. No one at the party notices him. They are unmoved. Tony stands there motionless in the chaos. The frat guy slowly grabs the microphone from him without him noticing. Tony looks for Beth and Christina but they are lost in the crowd, as is Mitch, Dale and Bryan. They must have left.\n\nTony walks back to the piss covered stairs and exits the basement. The temperature has dropped drastically. His breath is thick as it escapes his lungs. The only sounds around are that of crickets.\n\n\"Here man, take this. I don't want it,\" says a partygoer frightening Tony.\n\nAfter gathering his nerves he blurts, \"I don't want your fucking book bag. Get the fuck away from me.\n\n\"Just take it.\"\n\nThe book bag guy drops the bag at Tony's feet and runs off. He stares at the book bag and unzips it to find a case of unopened Natural Light cans.\n\n\"Jackpot.\"\n\nTony cracks the top of two cans and double fists the beers only adding to his inebriated state of mind. Tony lifts the bag and starts walking home and is stumbling everywhere. All the booze has caught up. He can't remember how to get back to the dormitory. The rain starts to pour violently. He opens another beer. Tony passes random building and can't make out any familiar landmarks.\n\nHe stumbles into concrete some concrete steps. He grabs at the thin steel rails in the middle of the steps. He swings himself to the top of the stairs and slams into the metal door of a brick building. Tony takes his drivers license out of his wallet and swipes it in the locked door. He can barely stand and is swinging on the door handles trying to stay upright.\n\nBlue lights appear and a siren screams. An officer steps out of his patrol car, flash light in hand, and shines it on Tony.\n\n\"Sir, can I help you?\" asks the officer.\n\n\"She went in here,\" Tony slurs.\n\n\"What are you trying to do here? Have you been drinking, sir?\"\n\n\"The girl went in here, can you get her? I just want to talk to her.\"\n\n\"This is archives sir. No one lives here. I'm going to ask you to come with me.\"\n\nThe officer grabs Tony by the arm which he pulls away viciously causing him to fall down the concrete stairs. As the officer comes down the stairs, Tony comes back to his feet swaying.\n\n\"Fuck your mother,\" he shouts, flipping the officer two middle fingers and laughing.\n\n\"GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND, SIR!\"\n\nThe officer pounces on Tony, throws on the ground, and puts cuff on him.\n\nTony is walking along another dirty, dingy Radcliffe street. There is a steady rain but nothing strong. The noises from parties have disappeared into the vast black hole. Thick steam rises from the street vents. His breath is thick as if he was exhaling lungs full of smoke. There are faint voices however that seem to be coming from nowhere and everywhere. He sees beer cans and bottles rolling up the street. The leaves are on the trees are swaying from stiff winds, but Tony hears nothing but the faint voices. His view follows the bottles and cans up the street and the voices grow. He is transfixed on an object: a man or being. The being is walking towards Tony with a quick pace. Tony can't make out much from the distance but the steps are getting quicker but choppier. The first detail he sees, dirt, mud. The being's clothes are covered in it. The voices grow louder. His heart is pounding like a double bass drum. The next feature, long, dirty hair. His hair is frozen hard from the cold. The man draws closer. The voices get louder. And louder. The man is talking within himself. The man does not notice Tony. Tony cannot move. The steps quicken. The voices grow loud. The decibels are unnerving. Tony grimaces. He grinds his teeth. The man is feet from him. The voices are so loud they are incomprehensible. He is here! He passes through Tony as if he was invisible. Silence. Tony is awestruck and in shock. He stand motionless, his mouth is slightly open. A light wind shakes his hair. It is so silence he can finally hear the clicking and clanking of the aluminum beer cans. He can hear the hollow rolls of the glass bottles. He here the leaves dance. He hears the chain linked fences from an unknown yard rattle. He turns around slowly. At ease. There is the being! A monster! Tony is staring at the monster: himself. The monster is seething through sharpened teeth. The monster slowly starts to wrinkle. First around the eyes, then lips. The bandana beings to fray and slowly fall to the dampened ground. His mud covered hair begins to grow. It becomes scraggily with patches of gray. His cheeks begin to suck into his face. A beard grows but is so coarse and scraggily you can still see his skin. His eyes begin to sow shut. He brutally tears at his eyes in pain only to leave scratch marks. They are fused shut. His rock and roll clothes have turned into a brown trench coat. His faced is getting older, more weather beaten. His nose is wide and long, the tip hanging to the top of his upper lip. His stench is unbearable.\n\nTony is engrossed and entrapped in the monster's aura. He takes a step closer, almost examining this man. The man slowly raises his head without much effort. At the top of his stance opens his mouth extremely wide. Wide enough to swallow Tony's head. He is looking as if he dislocated his jaw like a hungry serpent. The monster lets out a silent scream blowing Tony's hair back and quickly astray. Tony can only grab his ears and cringes. He grabs so hard is begins to slowly rip them off his head. Tony falls to his knees. Bowing to the monster.\n\nII\n\nTony is trying to put the pieces together. He appears to have blacked out. He scratches his eyes and rubs his headache and tries to figure out what happened and why he is in jail.\n\nHe notices he is staring out of a small window in the heavy door of his jail cell. It is affectionately called the drunk-tank for this reason in particular. The floor space is empty minus a small, half circle reception desk and a row of pay phones with stools in front of them. A uniformed officer sits behind the desk at his computer.\n\nTony sees cops walk by and begins beating on the door screaming at cops as they walk by.\n\n\"Hey! Hey, man? Where am I at?\" he pleads.\n\nThe cops walk by without notice.\n\nHe has blood all over his white button up shirt, which also torn. His fingertips are covered in black ink. He whips his dick out and pisses on the floor, not two steps from the toilet. He sits on the small concrete block by the toilet and stares at it, satisfied.\n\nHe gets back up and walks back the window and looks out again. He can see other people looking out their windows as well in their cells.\n\nThere is screaming and yelling from across the hall. Someone is beating on their door. He gets no attention either. Next the arrested individual runs into the door. He does so again, his body splattering quickly into his window and door then onto the floor. The officer at the reception desk picks up the phone and calls for back up. He gets up, grabs his night stick and goes to the cell.\n\n\"You better calm the hell down there before I come in there and beat the ever loving shit out of you,\" yells the officer, so loud Tony can hear is from across the large hallway and behind his own door.\n\nFrom the right of Tony's vision, he notices an extremely large man strut to the cell door. His face is hidden behind a large cowboy hat. The officer hands him his walkie-talkie. The large man says something into it and walks away from the cell with the officer leaving the man inside his cell to beat himself. The badge the large man's leather vest reads 'Sheriff.' They walk across the hallway to where Tony's cell is located. They pass they door but stop outside the door outside of Tony's vision.\n\n\"Give the idiot his belt and shoe laces back,\" says the Sheriff in a deep voice.\n\n\"Sir, this guy is loaded with PCP, he may kill himself,\" says the officer.\n\n\"That's alright. Just have one of the interns do the paperwork for you. I will take care of the rest.\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\nThe officer walks back to the desk and opens a drawer with the crazy man's belonging and walks to his door. He finds a key from the key chain on his belt and opens the door. Tony can only hear the screaming. The officer comes out of the cell and put his night stick back in its holder and comes across the hallway back to Tony's room grabbing at his keys again. He walks in.\n\n\"Want to make your phone call? God damn son, you piss on the floor?\" the officer asks disgusted.\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"Come on. Let's go.\"\n\nThe officer hand cuffs Tony and leads him out of the cell to the phones in the middle of the hallway. He rubs his eyes to hard he is practically tickling his brain. He cannot call his mother, she would die. He picks up the phone, holding it against his head then hangs it back on the receiver. The officer grabs him up by the shoulders, leads him back to his cell and throws him in, slamming and locking the door behind him.\n\n\"Sober up,\" yells the officer as he peels away from the door.\n\nTony sits up and feels the wetness of his own piss on his back.\n\nThe Dean of Student's office is covered in Phoenician blinds. The large white letters on the door spell out 'Dean of Students Dickson.' The secretary outside the door is a graduate student and is filing her nails, bored.\n\nTony is sitting on a small wooden bench in the waiting room in front of the secretary. The door to the office cracks open and the secretary cocks her head back and to the left motioning for Tony that the Dean is ready to see him.\n\nTony struts into the office to see the Dean sitting at his desk with an opened file. Tony looks around the office and cannot see one space of white wall, or any colored wall. They are covered in plaques and awards; whether it is for community service or charitable work. He also has his degrees framed. He looks up at Tony and extends his hand across the desk. They shake. The Dean grips firmly and slightly throws Tony hand back at him. Tony does take notice of it and stares back at the Dean. Tony sits down in the cushy leather chair and bounces around, breaking it in. he smells the scent of Pledge or Lode English. He looks back at the desk and can see his reflection on the mahogany. He wipes his right middle finger across the desk. Not one dust mite to be seen.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. - umm\"\n\n\"Call me Tony.\"\n\n\"Alright well I am going to start by reading the charges to you. How are we doing to day?\"\n\n\"No hangover, so far so good. And yeah, well, I don't remember anything that happened that night, so whatever.\n\n\"Ok well I do have listed here a drunk in public and an endangering conduct.\"\n\n\"What the hell is endangering conduct? I wasn't endangering anybody. I just wanted to go to bed.\"\n\n\"Endangering conduct is when, at anytime, you could hurt, endanger, someone else or yourself. And I have here that you were looking for a girl in the archives building?\" The Dean says with a puzzled look.\n\n\"Well maybe not my bed, but definitely somebody's.\"\n\n\"Do you not have any morals at all?\"\n\n\"Morals are bound in cages of perspective. It is impossible for you to understand and/or comprehend the fundamentals ways in which my people and I act. Everything is permitted and nothing is limited. What you may call reckless I call independence; a strong and measured, independence. \"\n\n\"Ok I am going to make this quick. My ruling is that you attend the alcohol awareness course for the drunk in public. And a $300 dollar fine for endangering conduct. Four weeks of conduct probation. Also I would like you to talk to someone about your alcohol or drug problem. We have an on site psychologist here at the university who loves dealing with, umm, people like yourself.\"\n\n\"The last thing I want is for you to sympathize with the danger of dangers you think I may put myself in I'm young, man. I just want to party, have a good time. This is freedom. Do my own thing in my own time. Dig?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry son, but there are rules and regulations, I have to follow them just as much as you. Now if you want to live outside the rules or laws of this institution, I'll see to it that you will not ever step foot, not only on the grounds of this university, but any other. I have that power. I will use it. In case you didn't take notice, there are a lot of changes that are being made not only by this office, but by the city itself. Wake up. Good day, sir. Get out of my office.\"\n\n\"Well it has been nice meeting you. I will show myself out the door.\"\n\nThey stare each other down as Tony rises from his chair walks to the door covered in Phoenician blinds.\n\nThe darkness of night shadows the view of the University from Tony's window. Mitch is lying in his bed ready for the night, flipping through channels on his small TV positioned at the foot of his bed so only he can see. Tony is getting ready in the bathroom.\n\n\"I meant to ask you how your date with the dean went?\" ask Mitch.\n\n\"That guy is a dick. I have to take some stupid class or talk to a counselor or something I don't know. Whatever it is I'm not doing it,\" says Tony.\n\n\"Have you told your mom?\"\n\n\"No. Confidentiality. She won't ever know.\"\n\n\"I think you should tell them. Oh, dude how much more stuff do you need to get from your room.\"\n\n\"Nope. I have everything I need.\"\n\n\"Well, you definitely need sheets. I bet them garbage bags are comfortable at night. That kind of embarrassed me when that chick asked.\"\n\n\"They keep me warm. And they're not yours, don't get embarrassed.\"\n\nMitch walks in the bathroom and sees Tony, with his deer knife, stabbing his legs.\n\n\"What in the hell are you doing!\" Mitch screams.\n\n\"My jeans need more holes. Besides how cool would it be with a few blood stains?\"\n\n\"Give me knife are you crazy? Have you lost your damn mind?\"\n\n\"No, not all, I'm ok.\"\n\nMitch grabs the knife from Tony, places it in his desk drawer and slams it shut.\n\nTony walks out of the bathroom behind Mitch. Nonchalantly and sprays body spray on himself, so much so that a thick cloud forms around him, causing him to cough and wave the air around.\n\n\"Tonight I'm going out with the sole purpose of getting laid. If not then I'll drink away my sorrows. Then finish of with some good doobs.\"\n\n\"Well while you're at it, throw some girls my way.\"\n\nMitch walks to his closet and grabs a coat. Tony just has a small white under shirt under his tight rock and roll shirt. They both walk out the door together.\n\n\"Dude, have you talked to Bryan? He sounded like hell,\" says Tony.\n\n\"Yeah he told me he wasn't going out tonight, said his stomach still hurt.\"\n\n\"Shit, throw a party in his face and he'll cheer right up.\"\n\nAfter getting to Bryans door the open the door and peek inside and see that Bryan is curled up in his bed, covers drawn, pale and sickly looking. All the lights are off and there's a bucket by the head of the bed. Empty.\n\n\"Holy shit dude. You look like fuck. Maybe you should go to the ER,\" Mitch suggests.\n\nBryan bellows out a deathly moan.\n\n\"Damn. Let's go, he's not coming out,\" seethes Tony.\n\nBryan remains unresponsive.\n\n\"Alright man, we're heading out. I hope you feel better man,\" says Tony waving his arm and hand bye.\n\nHe shoots Bryan a demonic look. Mitch and Tony leave. After they've shut the door and take a few steps the door opens and Bryan emerges.\n\n\"Fuck it, what's one night?\" Bryan says in a cracked voice.\n\nTony smiles and nods, Mitch shakes his head.\n\n\"That's my boy!\" proclaims Tony.\n\n\"You're going to kill someone one day.\"\n\nAs Tony, Mitch and Bryan walk down the street they are greeted with more sights and sounds of University night life. People are filling the dead leaf-covered lawns and loud music, laughing, yelling ejaculate from the doors and windows. Big muscular guys are outside as faux bouncers, trying to look tough. They stumble towards the steps of the Rugby House and walk through the already opened door. The place is overly crowded. Mitch runs off to go upstairs Tony and Bryan continue to the back in search of beer dodging and weaving through the dancing crowd. They find a large broken freezer filed with cans of beer and bags of ice to keep them cold.\n\n\"Shotgun,\" asks Bryan\n\n\"Fucking aye. Got your keys?\"\n\nBryan pulls out his key chain with an assortment of keys. He pokes holes in his and Tony's beer.\n\n\"Cheers.\"\n\nThey poke a key into their cans and pop the tops, slamming their heads back chugging the beers. Bryan wins.\n\n\"I hate you,\" says Tony wiping his face.\n\nIn the back corner of the kitchen, there are two girls, short and hippie looking, conversing and constantly looking over at the Tony and Bryan. Both the same size, but one larger breasts and doesn't have a manly disposition.\n\nTony spots them and nudges Bryan and points over to them saying, \"Free love?\" The girls notice come forth smiling.\n\n\"Oh wow. I love your hair, man,\" says the one who looks like a man.\n\n\"Thanks. I grew it myself,\" says Tony.\n\n\"Straightened it himself too,\" jokes Bryan giggling.\n\n\"That's hot, dude,\" again coming from the ugly one.\n\n\"What's your name, love?\" asks Tony of the more attractive one.\n\n\"Emily,\" she says. \"Don't worry about me, I'm babysitting her. She's the crazy one. Her name is Ashley\"\n\n\"We'll let Bryan watch that while I watch you.\"\n\n\"Original.\"\n\nTony is aggravated by her lack of interest in him. Emily looks around the party and can't seem to find her friend Ashley. Bryan has disappeared also.\n\n\"Well how about that?\"\n\n\"She does this every night. You would think I would know better.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah Bryan too. Can I get you something else to drink?\"\n\n\"Sure. Don't get excited. I'm just thirsty.\"\n\nAs they walk over to the freezer full of beer, Tony sees Bryan and Ashley, through the yellow stained mirror, outside smoking cigarettes.\n\n\"Hey, there they are,\" Tony says to Emily, pointing outside.\n\nTony opens Emily's drink and hands it to her; like a gentleman. They step through the rickety storm door and walk over to Bryan and Ashley, who aren't really smoking cigarettes.\n\nTony lights one for himself, then one for Emily. She accepts. He smiles at her. He is slowly chipping away at the ice queen.\n\n\"Is that what I think it is?\" asks Tony.\n\n\"Sure is,\" says Bryan, already stoned. He hands Tony the joint he rolled and he takes a couple long hits, causing Bryan some dismay, before giving it back.\n\nIn the distance, walking along the back sidewalk, come Mitch, obviously trashed, stumbling and swaying back in forth.\n\n\"Ice luge. 5 of them. I'm definitely going to get mono,\" slurs Mitch\n\n\"I have a very unique talent,\" announces Ashley to the crowd.\n\n\"No you don't,\" says Tony, hoping this might make her stop talking.\n\n\"Come man, you know you need to make nice with the dumb, ugly friends if you want to make real nice with the hot one,\" says Mitch still slurring and now laughing.\n\n\"Please. Not here,\" says Emily.\n\n\"Now I am very curious,\" says Tony\n\n\"I can take my panties off without taking my jeans off, man,\" says Ashley slowly.\n\n\"What? Are you fucking serious? That is a fantastic talent. You should really be proud of yourself. C'mon you have to do it! Show us!\"\n\n\"Yeah, man. Why not,\" she says as she twists and contorts her lower body and shoving her hand down her pants and working herself.\n\nEmily stands beside Tony. He's putting his arm around her. She's getting a little drunk and doesn't really care anymore.\n\nFinally, after a few minutes of working, she pulls out a blue thong with a Superman emblem on the crotch.\n\nBryan immediately grabs them, sniffs them, and runs off screaming \"I'm going to put them on dude!\"\n\n\"Dude, I fucking dare you, man. You should run the halls with the thong on!\" advises Tony.\n\n\"No I have a better idea. I am going to put them on and run around the halls. That'll really screw with some peoples head's.\n\n\"Everybody is full of great idea's tonight, I love it,\" says Tony.\n\n\"I really don't know if I want to see that,\" says Emily.\n\n\"When are you ever going to see a flabby eighteen year old college kid run around the halls of a dormitory wearing only a blue Superman thong? I am sorry man but this is too good to miss,\" says Ashley.\n\n\"Well let's go. I'm pumped up!\" exclaims Bryan who takes off running back to the dormitory.\n\nTony, Mitch, Emily and Ashley start running behind him.\n\nEveryone is outside Bryan's door waiting for him to emerge. There's an excitement building.\n\n\"Do you really straighten your hair or does it naturally fall like that?\" asks Emily.\n\n\"There is nothing natural about this man,\" says Mitch slurring.\n\n\"No I don't straighten at all. I brush it and wash it extensively however,\" says Tony. \"Sometimes I actually wash it in beer.\"\n\n\"Really, that's\"-\n\nBryan explodes out of the door, running Emily over in the process. Tony laughs at her. Bryan has commenced running down the hallway with the Superman thong covering his birthday suit. He is also wearing his cowboy boots. Ass and skin flab are flopping everywhere. Everyone is laughing hysterically as he completely runs all the way down the hall and disappears. As all are on the floor laughing on the verge of vomiting, people are coming out of their rooms looking to see what the disturbance is, and as they ask...\n\n\"I'm streaking! Faster than a speeding bullet! Stay out the way of this locomotive. Whoooo!\" yells Bryan\n\nThe small crotch with the Superman logo can't hold back his balls from falling out of the side and flopping everywhere. Disgusted noises from some and laughter from others spread throughout the hallway until he runs into his room and slams the door.\n\nJust a second later a loud scream is heard from the room which causes Tony and Mitch to run in. They see Bryan curled up in a ball by the toilet in extreme pain.\n\n\"I need to go to the hospital. Call an ambulance. My stomach is ripping apart,\" he cries out excruciated.\n\nMitch, Dale, and Tony are sitting in an emergency room waiting room. They all have serious looks on their faces.\n\n\"He is going to get some ridiculous pain medication. Like he might get Percocet or Vicodin or something good,\" says Tony.\n\nMitch looks over at Tony with an extremely disgusted face.\n\nThe nurse walks out of the 'Patients Only' Door with a chart in her hand, signaling that they were allowed back to see him.\n\nTony peeks in every door he passes. Maybe he would see someone on the verge of dying. With every passing door he sees nothing but empty beds, perfectly made.\n\nThey reach a room at the end of the long hallway of rooms. The nurse opens the door and lets them in. Bryan is high on a Morphine drip. He is finally smiling and pain free.\n\n\"You going to be alright?\" asks Dale.\n\n\"They think it may be colitis,\" says Bryan softly.\n\n\"Is that why you've been sick?\" asks Tony.\n\n\"Umm, yeah, that it is exactly why I've been sick. But they also aren't sure. Tests were inconclusive.\"\n\n\"I don't think your naked run helped. But damn it sure was funny.\"\n\n\"I'm glad to see you're doing well though, man. This is serious shit. You know we're here for you whenever you need anything.\"\n\n\"I know what we're going to need once you leave here.\"\n\n\"This man is lying up in a hospital bed after surgery and all you can think about is drugs.\".\n\n\"I didn't say anything, man.\"\n\n\"We'll all have a good time once I get out of here,\" says Bryan.\n\n\"A little sympathy,\" says Mitch, who can only shake his head in disappointment.\n\n\"You need your rest man. Y'all ready to go? We'll be back up to see you. You're mom called too, she'll be up tomorrow,\" says Dale.\n\n\"You called my mom? What the hell is the matter with you? Yeah I think it is time for you leave. Dammit.\"\n\nMitch and Dale exit the room. Tony stays behind. Bryan has turned his head over on the pillow, to get back into his morphine induced sleep. Tony looks at him trying to somehow feel guilty or responsible for this. After a moment, a thought of the fun they'll have when he gets out with all those pain killers erases his almost synthetic remorse.\n\nTony and Mitch, lit cigarettes in hand, are walking out towards Mitch's beat up car which has been parked in a reserved parking lot over night. He chooses to do this out of pure laziness. They have a tennis class together this morning.\n\n\"You're not going to believe what my mom told me last night,\" humbles Tony.\n\n\"What'd she want?\"\n\n\"Well you know how Russell Gettis died a few days ago? Choked on his own vomit right? So many stories going around it's hard to know what's true.\"\n\n\"Still sad though.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Sure. Well, what my mom told me was that they went to the viewing yesterday.\"\n\n\"Ok.\"\n\n\"And she said when she saw his dead body in the casket, she started crying.\"\n\n\"You fucking serious?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I don't know what it is about her ya know. She thinks I'm going to die soon,\" snickers Tony.\n\nTony thinks of his Mom, dressed in all black, slowly walking to the casket. Whimpering and sniffling are heard in the background. She peers inside and sees his lifeless body. Skin ghostly and eyes purple. The worst part of the vision is that his dressed in a tuxedo and bald.\n\nTony's mind retreats from his dreaded vision of his baldness and sees Mitch's mouth is agape.\n\n\"You know, you can throw the biggest party in the world, but nothing brings people together quite like death,\" professes Tony as he continues down the road.\n\n\"Well keep living like you are. Your party will be soon enough.\"\n\nMitch then looks over at his red Corolla and sees a parking ticket. He rips it from his windshield and another is sneaking behind it.\n\n\"Fuck, man. Never again, that's $200 this year just on parking tickets,\" Mitch screams.\n\nHe takes the ticket of the windshield, opens his car door and puts the ticket on the center consol with a few other tickets. Also filling his truck are old water bottles, a soccer ball (which he hasn't used all semester) beer cans, fast food bags and old cigarette wrappers.\n\nA group of kids are sitting down beside the tennis courts. Mitch and Tony are sitting side by side. They're taking a test.\n\n\"Are you fucking kidding me? A test? I didn't sign up for this class for tests. I signed up for an 'A'!\" whispers Tony. Just show me how to hit the ball. Put someone else on the other side of that net to hit it back. That's it. Human pong. Shit. I don't need to know what a 'love' is. I hate love. If you score stand here on this hash mark. If he scores you stand here on this mark. I just like hitting the damn ball over the fence. That's it. That's it!\n\n\"HEY! yells the tennis teacher.\n\nThe students turn and look.\n\n\"Shut the hell up.\"\n\nMitch is laughing hysterically.\n\n\"This is ridiculous. Your fucking idea,\" Tony tells Mitch under his breath.\n\nThe evening has darkened the sky. Tony and Mitch are outside on Tony's 'show stage' in front of Morelit Hall. There are other students outside throwing football and Frisbee. Others are sitting on blankets reading, talking with friends. Also on the stage area there's a group of students smoking out of a hookah.\n\n\"I think your mom said she was coming up here today? Tony tells Mitch, who upon hearing this is startled then offended.\n\n\"What did you say?\" asks Mitch\n\nTony shrugs his shoulders. \"Yeah man, she said she is bringing you winter clothes. I told her she should've packed your winter clothes because it is always cold here. She got upset. She thought I was questioning her motherhood.\"\n\n\"I feel so sick right now. I feel dizzy.\"\n\nTony pulls Mitch's cigarettes from his pocket and hands him one. Mitch slowly lefts it to his lips and lights it while staring at Tony. Tony also grabs a cigarette from Mitch's pack even though his are in his pocket.\n\n\"Come on man. Let's go back inside and wait for her to get here,\" calmly proclaims Tony.\n\nMitch is showering while Tony is sleeping on his bed staring towards the TV soaking in his numbness.\n\n\"Fuck I forgot a towel. Can you hand me one? shouts Mitch from the shower. His request falls miserably upon Tony's deaf ears.\n\n\"Can you hand me a mother fucking towel please, you selfish bastard!\"\n\nThat call awakens Tony.\n\n\"Sorry. I am surprised you even showered. The towels are all wet.\"\n\n\"What the fuck. How in the fuck do we not have clean towels?\"\n\n\"Because you fucking use one then put them in the dirty clothes.\"\n\n\"Yeah that's what you're supposed to do. After I get out of the shower and dry off I throw the towel in the dirty clothes. It's fucking dirty that's where it goes. Shit!\"\n\n\"Why don't you just use one towel for like a week, and then wash it at the end of the week. I mean be honest; you take a shower to get clean. When you get out of the shower you're clean. I hope. So how does that constitute the towel being dirty after you use it the one time?\"\n\n\"That's just gross. A towel is like a once-it's-used-it's-fucking-dirty item. Luckily for fabrics, they can be washed and dried. That still doesn't explain why we can't do any fucking laundry around here! Son a bitch!\"\n\n\"And why are you so worried about a clean damn towel anyways. I sleep with garbage bags and sometimes face down in ditches. I do just fine for myself\"\n\nMitch laughs. \"Yes. Yes, you do.\"\n\n\"I think she wants to meet us at McElroy's. She says it's good but I don't know how she would know.\"\n\nTony puts his usual attire on and walks out of the bathroom where there is a waiting meet at the door with his keys.\n\nThe car ride was tense. Tony oblivious and Mitch strangling the wheel with sweating palms and white knuckles. Every turn in the car is over exaggerated and sharp on a dime sending Tony flying across the vehicle and smacking his head against the passenger side window. Mitch, of course, is wearing his safety belt.\n\n\"Dude, are you alright? Why are you taking the long way?\" Tony questions while rubbing his head.\n\n\"Don't worry about it,\" Mitch says monotone as he roughly pulls the car through the parking lot and abruptly parks throwing Tony into the windshield.\n\nMcElroy's is an old fashioned fifties burger joint. The smell of the grille fills the air and once inside the smells of ice cream and milkshakes churns the pangs of hunger even more. Once inside the door, Tony sees the looks and is enjoying the consternation he is getting by conservative older folk trying to recapture their youth or memories. They stare at him. Fear in the eyes of some and other looking at him as if the food is settling wrong. Just as they sit down, Mitch's mother Julia walks through the door, cigarette and long cigarette holder in hand in the air, which could have been made from a human finger. She struts a pompous strut, standing tall. Her hair is the afterbirth of a bob and a mullet, dyed red. Her bangs curl and end about two inches from the beginning of her scalp. Her cherry apple, blood red lip stick is smeared around her mouth. Her black pea coat is short and ends at her waist which is thin but her ass in huge. She isn't wearing a shirt underneath it. Her dress shirt falls just short of her knee, panty hose black and ripped. Tony also notices she isn't wearing any shoes and has a dried black carnation pinned to her lapel.\n\n\"You haven't been partying too much have you?\" she says with a smile and a faux Pre Classical Hollywood accent.\n\n\"Wow, don't you look acerbically stunning,\" Tony proclaims as he stands with his arms out hoping for a hug. She walks by and sits down on the ripped, red leather booth by the window. The boys follow her. She hasn't even noticed her son.\n\n\"Excuse me, waitress, I will take a vodka and cranberry. It has been a bitch of a day, darling.\"\n\n\"So how have you been Tony? Have you been taking care of yourself?\"\n\nThe waitress walks by and doesn't even stop.\n\n\"Oh you know me. I am still just rockin' and rollin'.\"\n\n\"Your classes going good? Keeping your grades up?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah. The best class I have is Philosophy. I'd much rather be enlightened than preached to. I have started thinking about my life more and don't even realize it. Have you ever thought about life after death? Sometimes I like to think that I will be immortal. That I can't be killed. I feel like I will live on everyone's memory, and live forever. But then sometimes I think when I die, everyone else will too and that maybe the world revolves solely around me.\"\n\n\"Oh dear boy, you seem to have gone mad.\"\n\nJulia looks around for her drink. Her order has seemingly evaporated.\n\n\"You don't know the half of it,\" chimes Mitch who is staring at the ground.\n\n\"Well who the hell knows where my drink is! I paid damn near $1,000 for this outfit last year. I am not doing that shit again.\" Her face is getting red and eyes wild with condescension. \"It'll be coming out of your poor ass,\" she shouts to the waitress who ignores her.\n\nTony is doing his best to hold in his laughter. \"So how about some pot, Jules?\"\n\n\"I can't smoke that anymore. It affects my acting and study immensely. I am studying to portray Helen of Troy in my next production of Dr. Faustus. This is my third try and I will make sure that the papers will notice. Positively that is. I have been reading and reading and reading. Did you know Kip Marlow was gay and could've been the real William Shakespeare? The Bard himself,\" she says laughing.\n\n\"What does that have to do with the play?\" says Mitch heatedly. \"You do this every time! How many times are you going to keep working on this one project? When are you going to learn that maybe you aren't a very good writer. Not knowing who you are doesn't make it easy to be other people! I can't take this anymore. I have to leave.\"\n\nMitch rises from his chair and storms through the front door, pushing it so hard it smacks the outside wall. Tony stares the whole time not understanding where the outburst has arisen.\n\nA well dressed man walks over to Tony's table, nervous and constantly looking back at his wife who is both sickened. \"Excuse me son, but I would like to tell you that you're scaring my wife and I don't think you should be here.\" the café has gotten quiet. The patrons have stopped eating and rose from their plates. The manager is standing at the bar slowly wiping down the counter. Julia is still looking around for her drink or the waitress.\n\n\"No, no excuse me you impolite stooge. You heathen. I am reconnecting with an old friend. I wouldn't come to your table and bother you! You can tell your wife she can take your red basket, hamburgers and fries and shove them up your ass and dance around like a mutant caveman for all I care.\"\n\n\"Old friend? Son there. . .\"\n\n\"Does it matter who it is? Get away from my table! No one comes to the King's table and speaks without being spoken to. You and all these old people in this place need to realize I am the new human. You wouldn't understand because it is beyond your closed mindedness. Open up your eyes and watch as I go further than you all and leave you all behind.\"\n\n\"My drink is never going to get here. That's why I hate college restaurants. The waitresses don't work. They just want a free tip,\" declares Julia who slides off the booth ready to leave.\n\n\"I will see her out one night and give her a tip and then some,\" quips Tony. Upon hearing this, the well dressed man's wife gasps in ill horror. \"Oh stop, you idiot. How will it make you feel when I say I am going to leave here and do drugs and raze your town to the ground?\"\n\nTony raises his arms in victory, walking backwards, mule kicking out the door with Julia following, holding her cigarette and hollowed out human bone cigarette holder.\n\nThe people are stunned and sickened beyond belief. Then go back to eating as if it didn't happen.\n\nCandle light flickers around Mitch's dorm room. The power has blown. The windows are opened and a light gusts of wind slice through the window screens causing the flames to dance around the room. On the floor is an opened case of Budweiser. Tony reaches into the case and takes one, then two, and starts pounding beers while Mitch sits sulking on his bed and his mom digging through a clothe bag.. There is knocking at the door, in walks Bryan, back from the dead.\n\n\"Dude, what the fuck is up? How you feeling?\" slurs Tony.\n\n\"Man, I'm alive,\" says Bryan in a strained and raspy voice.\n\n\"Barely. Bring us anything good?\"\n\n\"Of course. Let's hit the room up.\"\n\nBryan leads the way out of the room, Mitch following and Tony behind him. As Tony is about to cross the threshold from his room to the hallways, a hand grabs him violently on the shoulder and pulls back into the room.\n\n\"Tony, come here,\" says Julia softly\n\nTony stares into the room as Julia fades back into the room. \"Hey hold on a second I forgot something,\" he shouts up to Mitch and Bryan. \"What's up?\" he asks Julia.\n\n\"You wanted to smoke didn't you?\n\n\"Huh? I didn't think you did?\"\n\n\"I got a bowl pack right here. I need to smoke before I get back to the hotel.\"\n\n\"Um, yeah. I have a piece over here.\"\n\nTony walks over to his closet and gets a shoe box off the top shelf. Inside the box is a homemade bong made from a human skull, stolen from a biology lab classroom. They enjoy a few hits back and forth. They are sitting by the window and blowing the smoke out. Tony's eyes are blood red and almost closed.\n\n\"Tell me your dreams,\" says Julia with a chest full of smoke.\n\n\"I don't think you or I want to go there.\"\n\n\"Everyone has them. I have wanted to be a painter, writer, actor, photographer and taxidermist.\"\n\n\"I don't really want to say it is kind of embarrassing.\"\n\n\"The only thing embarrassing about dreams is not acting on them.\"\n\nTony picks of the human skull bong and stand up looking out the window.\n\n\"Do you see that out there, through the trees? He says pointing towards his stage. \"I want to perform there. I want to be able to go out there, with thousands of people looking at me, hooked like fish on a line to every word that spits from my mouth. Words and messages of freedom and rebellion. Of life and death. I want to be their leader. The one they look to rise above the filth, the fury. They will chant. They will scream. I will be them and they will be me. We are all one in this you know? I will feed on all of their forgotten thoughts and all of their deepest, darkest desires. A subconscious illusion. I will be the embodiment of what they always wanted to be. The embodiment of the revolution that they want but are afraid to start.\" He lifts the human skull bong to his face. Eye to eye. Talking to it. \"They need me. I am the one without fear. I am the one who knows the methods that will bring this Institution to its knees. The Institution will be weak and obsolete. Then the institution will look up at me with tears of blood dribbling down its cheek, shaking from a terror it never thought could exist. A terror is works so hard to keep down, keep quiet. Keep in control! And I will look down at the Institution. It will beg me for its life. Its voice cracking.\" He is squeezing the jaw of the bong. It breaks. \"I will tell the Institution that I will let it live, only long enough to see the new race take the reigns. Then I will set it ablaze. And put the fire out with an ax.\"\n\n\"And what happens when the people you lead feel they have the strength or courage to challenge the messiah? The battle lines having been leveled.\"\n\n\"Then I will have already given them the means by which they can destroy me as well.\"\n\nHe sends a suspecting look then laughs uncontrollably.\n\nTony is stumbling down the hallway. His head is held high. Because he is high, very high. Whatever the old hag had was exceedingly intoxicating and potent. People walk by, see him and just stare. He doesn't ever acknowledge. He is their leader and too cool right now. His head is in the sky. Tony comes to Bryan's door and walks in, but no one is there except Dale. Dale looks at him jealous.\n\n\"Damn, son. You look high as shit.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Where'd they go?\"\n\n\"They? Bryan's outside. Want to smoke that cig?\"\n\n\"I sure do.\"\n\nBryan and Mitch are already outside on the brick barrier in the smoking spot behind Morelit Hall, finishing their smokes.\n\n\"You look powerful stoned,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Yeah bro. I am totally wide open.\n\n\"Well I got my own shit, bro,\" chimes Bryan.\n\n\"Pills?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah.\"\n\n\"They good too.\"\n\n\"Let's get on it! Why are we wasting time?\"\n\n\"Already did. I'm feeling good.\"\n\n\"You selfish bastard.\"\n\n\"You're high enough as it is.\"\n\nTony takes a look around. Smiling, oblivious. Enlightened\n\nThe creatures of the nighttime world begin crawling about the streets, all with one common goal: getting drunk. Girls are no longer wearing skirts and heels. The substitution is jeans, Ugg boots, and sweaters. But Radcliffes' girls are the finest, and easiest. Sex drips off them all leaving the scent behind to be tracked by the dogs. The guy's lust for these girls is so noticeable it is sickening. They follow the girls about helplessly.\n\nA crowd of people are gathered along the side entrance door.\n\n\"Call that fucker, I'm not paying or waiting in line,\" scowls Tony.\n\nDale pulls his phone out and dials. Suddenly out comes Scheft. Walking like Charlie Chaplin and talking with a lisp.\n\n\"Good thing you guys called, you wouldn't have gotten in,\" says Scheft, lisp and all.\n\n\"This dude is always trying make himself more important than he actually is,\" Tony turns and whispers to Mitch.\n\n\"Yeah, we think he's a closet queer,\" responds Mitch.\n\n\"Yes we sure do.\"\n\n\"Come on guys, lets go downstairs the party just started a few minutes ago,\" lisps Scheft.\n\nTony stares at Scheft's face, noticing something odd.\n\n\"Are you wearing make-up?\" asks Tony.\n\nSheft looks around at everyone, embarrassed. They are waiting for an answer.\n\n\"I have bad acne scars,\" he stammers. He quickly leads them down the stairs, which are dark and wet from beer, moisture, piss whatever else.\n\nThe basement is big in comparison with others. There are two stations where you can get beer, the left corner of the room on the far side and the right side of the room by the door.\n\nGirls are dancing in the middle with guys and other girls. The sound waves exit the speakers and flow through the bodies of the partiers. Random people are making out. Beers are being drunk everywhere.\n\nTony and his disciples are all tore up. All are chugging their drinks. Then after chugging a few, the shotguns begin. A joint finds its way around, which all smoke except Mitch. Tony notices a group of guys and a couple girls passing around a mirror with a fine white powder. He brazenly walks over to help himself to some. He grabs the little straw from an unsuspecting girl and snorts her line. Then the one beside it. He drops the straw back on the mirror, \"Carry on,\" he says with a wink and a grin. He walks back to his group who never realized he was gone.\n\nThe party is over. Tony and Mitch are walking around the back of Morelit Hall on the sidewalk; Tony's walk is more of a staggering, hammered styled walk. Laughing at nothing. On the brick barrier by the door are a black dude and a white dude, both smoking a large joint.\n\n\"You boys smoke?\" calls out the black dude, noticing their condition.\n\n\"Fucking aye. Mitch tells this man that's a really stupid question,\" says Tony.\n\n\"Try this then, homie,\" says the black dude who extends his hand. Without a second's hesitation, Tony grabs the blunt and takes a huge hit and holds it in for a second. He exhales and the high washes over him like a wave.\n\n\"That's some good shit, huh?\" proudly proclaims the black dude, nodding his head and smiling.\n\n\"Oh god damn. Wicked.\"\n\nThey all begin to laugh.\n\nTony can only stand hunched over with his arms held at 45 degree angles and wrists limp. He can't move. Vegetating. Still laughing.\n\n\"Yo, where you sleep at?\" the black dude calls to Tony.\n\n\"Where do I sleep?\" he answers nervously. \"In my bed.\"\n\n\"Nah, man, your room number.\"\n\nTony laughs in relief. \"301.\"\n\n\"Word. Let me get your number, here be mines. I always got good shit. Hit me up anytime.\"\n\n\"You keep getting shit like this; you'll be in business and in my good graces for along time.\"\n\n\"Word. Word. We out. Hit me up.\"\n\n\"Later.\"\n\nTony is locked in his position. He lit a cigarette but he never took a puff and it's almost burned out.\n\n\"You alright? What the fuck are you doing?\" asks Mitch, slightly worried.\n\n\"Yeah,\" responds Tony, slowly and slurred.\n\nTony struggles to rifle through his pockets trying to find the missing key card.\n\n\"Fuck, how are we going to get in?\" Mitch says looking around. \"Come on man, let's go.\"\n\nMitch starts walking, but Tony isn't with him. Mitch turns around and sees Tony still slouched over but trying to walk. He's walking as if his shoes are cinder blocks. He appears to be talking to himself also.\n\n\"Come on you asshole, we need to get inside before you get caught and in trouble,\" yells Mitch.\n\nTony stops and can't hold back his laughter. The sight of Mitch trying to be authoritative is too much. They continue down the sidewalk trying to find someone to let them in the building. Mitch is still ahead of Tony who is still having a hard time moving and it still at wits with himself. They round the front of the building and Mitch thinks he sees someone at the front desk. Tony tries desperately to jump and wave his arm to be noticed, but gets about an inch of the ground. He isn't calling for help, he can't stop geeking out.\n\n\"Dude seriously, be quiet!\"\n\nAs Tony comes closer to Mitch, he's sees another hyper active smile, this one on his friends face, sliced on by a serrated blade. Tony stares at his friend, scared. His eyes cut again see if it's real. He slowly reaches to touch his face when suddenly-\n\n\"There's Ally dude!\" says Mitch relieved.\n\n\"I did it!\" cheers Tony\n\nAlly, a thick, frat girl, walks up to the door to let them in. She isn't surprised.\n\nTony stumbles inside as she lets them in. She's not happy but laughs at his state of being.\n\n\"You are always out, why don't you ever come get me?\" she asks.\n\n\"Sorry, love, taking one girl out would decimate my game. Got any food?\" responds Tony.\n\n\"You have no game,\" says Mitch displeased.\n\nThey walk upstairs to Ally's room which is almost completely pink and covered in her sororities slogan, motto. Her roommate, Kathy, is in bed. She had been out earlier. Tony hops in bed with her.\n\n\"Get out of my bed, you fucking asshole! You smell like a cigarette.\" rips Kathy.\n\n\"Where's the food?\" asks Mitch.\n\nTony finally gets out of bed with a jokers grin.\n\n\"You have to leave. We're about to go to bed,\" says Ally who doesn't really want them to leave.\n\n\"I need a cigarette,\" says Mitch.\n\n\"Shit, you know what? Never mind I'm just going to go to bed. Call it a night,\" says Tony, rather abruptly.\n\nKathy just stares as Tony leaves taking all of his smells with him.\n\nTony is in the kitchen making a late night snack. College gourmet: ramen noodles. He notices his hands are shaking and twitching. He thinks nothing of it. As he takes his noodles out of the microwave, he leaves the kitchen he sees Kathy walking down the hall dragging a small blanket behind her.\n\n\"Looking for a place to stay?\" he asks.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nTony just nods and leads her into the room. Kathy climbs into Tony's bed and starts taking off her clothes. Tony hasn't noticed.\n\n\"So how about a movie?\"\n\nTony turns and sees Kathy naked. Her look of displeasure from earlier is wiped away by her mysterious horniness.\n\n\"I don't have any.\" He undoes his belt and jumps in bed with her. He slowly and sensually creeps up to her. He kisses down her neck. Her chest. Her undefined stomach. He gets home, He screams! Her vagina is covered in buzz saws and razor blades. They hiss and slice. He throws himself into the wall still screaming.\n\nShe is terrified as well. \"What's wrong?\" she asks, covering herself back up.\n\nTony is panting heavily. He tries to call himself down. \"I'm sorry. You had buzz saw on your vagina.\"\n\n\"What?\" she says angry and confused.\n\nTony begins to laugh. \"Oh, it is probably nothing.\" He jumps back on top of her.\n\nTony walks outside and Mitch and Ally are still out there. Bryan has joined also.\n\n\"I thought you two were fucking?\"\n\n\"Who? Us?\" asks Bryan, taken back.\n\n\"What? No!\"\n\nAlly takes a look at Tony, and then her eyes brighten, she has found out something shocking.\n\n\"Uh oh,\" she says. \"You just slept with someone, didn't you?\n\n\"No. She could only be so lucky. Sorry I am lying yes I did. I railed your roommate.\"\n\n\"Oh. Good. Because, you know, she's in my sorority and she sleeps with just about anyone.\"\n\n\"So does he,\" quickly interrupts Mitch.\n\n\"Watch this,\" says Bryan, who walks over to Tony and quickly unzips his jacket to expose his pale, sunken in, bare chest. There are also scratches and cuts all over him. \"There's your answer!\" he proudly proclaims.\n\nTony stands awestruck. Mitch laughs hysterically, and Ally walks back inside pissed off and disgusted.\n\n\"The things you do to yourself,\" says Mitch shaking his head.\n\nTony is looking around in the bathroom for something. He looks scared. Moving with a quickened pace and knocking over everything on the counter top. He pulls out a bottle of mouthwash and acne pads from the cabinet. Tony pours the mouthwash on his penis and it falls into the toilet. He then grabs the pads and starts wiping his shaft. Feeling as though he hasn't done enough, he finds rubbing alcohol and continues to pour. He soaks cotton balls and starts to wipe. Finally, he grabs a Q-Tip and stares long and hard at it. He dips the cotton end into the rubbing alcohol. He inserts the Q-Tip into himself and lets out a harsh, loud and coarse scream, enough to rip the paint of the walls and shatters the windows. He removes the Q-Tip which has a small trace of blood on the end. He throws it into the toilet and flushes.\n\nHe takes a long look at himself in the mirror. He is breathing heavily. His eyes a dark and sunken. His cheek bones are starting to become more evident. His hands are still shaking. He splashes water on his face, wipes his eyes and exit's the bathroom.\n\nTony and Mitch find themselves in their Geology lab, tapping small rocks with a rock hammer.\n\n\"That chick won't even look at you anymore,\" whispers Mitch.\n\n\"Which one?\"\n\n\"The one that took you home awhile ago. The one who almost killed you. She won't even look over here.\"\n\nThe girl is hard at her lab with her lab partner.\n\n\"Speaking of girls you fuck and don't talk to again, Kathy's brother is coming up this weekend. She wants us to show him around town.\"\n\n\"She hates me.\"\n\n\"You think?\"\n\n\"I mean, she should've known.\"\n\n\"You never cease to amaze me. I think no matter what, your mind can turn something around and blame someone else for what you have done.\"\n\n\"She was warned. I fucking told her.\"\n\nI'm sure she appreciated that. Even though I know for a fact you said nothing. Regardless, she said he was a cool dude. She's said he's bringing some good reefer too.\"\n\n\"Reefer? Those had to be her words or somehow you a pot head or a cop. Count me out though. I told my mom that I'd come home this weekend to get some clothes. She keeps telling me she wants to visit.\n\n\"You won't let her?\"\n\n\"Are you kidding me? She'd die. I already feel like I'm wasting her money. She doesn't need to see what I am. \"\n\n\"I don't think her money is the only thing wasting away.\"\n\nTony lets this roll of, almost proud of it. He turns and takes another looks back at the girl who is still working hard with her lab partner.\n\nThe water is running in the sink. A powerful snort is heard. Again. Tony lifts his head up and stares into the mirror. His eyes bloodshot. Powder around his nose. He stares at himself in the mirror for awhile looking into his own eyes. He looks down at his body which is starting to change. The tone he had at the beginning of the semester is dwindling away. He splashes water in his face. Looks at himself in the mirror again then leaves.\n\nOther than noticing the pink walls, Tony did not pay too much attention to Ally and Kathy's room. It was a typical college girl's room decorated with pictures of friends, old and new. Clothes scattered about, some clean others dirty. And shoes, damn the shoes are everywhere. There's a tension in the room as Tony and Kathy share the room together with Mitch and Kathy's brother, Reese. Tony is getting irritable, while Kathy does homework on her laptop. Tony is standing at the other side of the room with his arms crossed and looking down at the floor.\"We'll be at the bomb shelter,\" he mumbles.\n\n\"I like that place,\" says Kathy without taking her eyes off of her work.\n\n\"Let's go fuckers!\" shouts Bryan from outside.\n\n\"Later guys,\" says Kathy, again not looking away from her work.\n\nThey exit out the door. Tony brings up the rear. They exchange a disgusted look.\n\n\"Bye Tony.\"\n\nTony, continues walking away, flipping her off.\n\nThe Bomb Shelter is a frat house on light side. The upstairs looks like that of a normal college house, although there is a beer pong table in the small kitchen with rules scribbled all over the wall in permanent marker. When the boys walk in the guy that lives there takes out his pet snake and puts it on the floor and it slithers around scaring people.\n\nThe guys all shotgun a beer and proceed to the down stairs, to the 'bomb shelter.' Once downstairs; Tony's hair gets him noticed, by girls, as always, almost immediately. They move to get beers. A couple of girls walk up.\n\n\"You are out all the time. Your grades have to suck,\" says one of the girls. Tony can tell she's a girl by her voice, but can't see her from the poor lighting.\n\n\"No. I'm a fucking genius,\" he responds.\n\n\"I dig your look. Are you in a band?\" says a different girl.\n\n\"No doubt, babe. These are the roadies. I'm a rock star, girl. I've been arrested and everything.\"\n\nThe other guys play along with the ruse.\n\n\"Fuck yeah. I'm this man's roadie no matter what. The man has pipes,\" bellows Bryan.\n\n\"You sing?\" says the first girl.\n\n\"Yep. I'm the fucking King of Oblivion.\"\n\n\"Do you write you own songs and stuff?\" asks one of the girls.\n\n\"Every day. I'm a hell of a writer. I wrote a song yesterday about the first time I got arrested.\"\n\n\"I want to see!\" she says, excitedly.\n\n\"Maybe one day you will see and hear it. Then you will live it and breathe it. \"\n\nA group of four rocker looking dudes walk by Tony and don't even acknowledge he is there. These guys are actually in a band. They have on their flannel shirts, skinny black jeans with manufactured holes in the knees, and shaggy hair styled with soft hands. They look to the girls and they look back and smile.\n\n\"Oh my god that's those guys who are playing at BT's tonight,\" says one of the girls.\n\n\"Really?\" says the first girl.\n\n\"Yes oh my god let's go! See you guys.\" Says the others.\n\n\"Are you fucking kidding me? Really? Those dudes sounds as plastic as they look. They are just a fashion statement. They are just mannequins styled from a post-grunge emo thrift store.\"\n\nTony watches them go out the door. His look is of anger and jealousy. His hands are starting to shake again and a slight ringing in his ears comes into being.\n\nThe guys are hanging out outside Bryan's room in the hallway making lots of noise, drunk, laughing.\n\n\"You ever seen this shit, man,\" says Bryan. He pulls his lighter out and flicks the flame up and holds is under a university flier on the wall. The corner catches flame and then he smacks the flame. The paper sticks to the wall. They look at the paper in stoned amazement.\n\n\"That shit is tight.\" He does it again but to a different piece of paper.\n\n\"You going to smoke?\" says Tony, jittery and anxious.\n\n\"No, I'm going to bed. I'll meet up with you tomorrow.\"\n\nBryan walks to his door but Tony catches him before he gets there.\n\n\"Think I can get a few more of them pills man? I ran out before we went out tonight.\"\n\n\"No I have to get more at the pharmacy Monday.\"\n\n\"Ok that's cool, man. Just let me know.\"\n\nBryan enters his room and shuts the room.\n\nTony stands there unsure of what to do. He walks back down to his room and stops at the door. He pulls his lighter from his pocket and stares at it. He looks at all the colorful, fluorescent fliers festooning the egg white walls.\n\n\"Tony, what the hell are you doing?\" asks Mitch cautiously.\n\n\"I think I am going to try that thing Bryan did with the lighter and the flier.\"\n\n\"No! You will burn the damn place to the ground.\n\nAs soon as Mitch comes at Tony to make him stop, the paper is on fire and catches quickly. The whole paper is on fire. Mitch takes his shirt off and fans the flames. The egg white wall has char residue.\n\n\"Oh man! That could've been bad,\" says Tony, laughing maniacally.\n\nAs they turn to go into the room, the fire alarm begins to ring. The sound is loud and piercing. They cover their ears. Water begins to spray from the ceiling.\n\n\"Maybe it's going to get bad. Fire! Fire!\" yells Tony, running and jumping around, still laughing.\n\nPeople begin to run out of their room, still drowsy, frightened. Tony leads the way down the stairs. He is still laughing.\n\n\"Follow me to freedom!\" he says.\n\nThey burst out of the dorm door all at once. People are yelling and screaming in terror. Some are falling to the ground and getting trampled.\n\nStudents who were sleeping are now awake and pissed off and curious. Tony can see through the lighted windows that people are frantically scurrying to the fire exits out of the building. Tony is laughing while Mitch and Reese are a little more scared and understand the situation a little better.\n\nAll the students are gathered outside talking and wondering what is going on. The fire alarm is still heard and still piercing. Fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances arrive at the scene. None of the residents are dressed for the night cold. It's biting and there's a light drizzle to make matters worse.\n\nThe three guys are huddled together outside.\n\n\"The alarm took forever to go off. I saved a lot of people this evening. Do you think they noticed? For their sake I hope so.\" says Tony looking at all of the wet students, shivering.\n\n\"Yeah,\" answers Mitch looking down at the ground\n\n\"That wasn't me, man, couldn't have been me. It-it couldn't have.\"\n\n\"You lit the fucking paper on fire!\" says Mitch with silent aggression.\n\n\"So did Bryan, man!\"\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\n\"What is going on? I don't understand. It wasn't supposed to end this way. There is no resistance.\"\n\nThe crowd has grown larger now with not only Morelit Hall residents, but other students as well.\n\n\"Does this mean we're not smoking?\" asks Tony.\n\nTony is lying in bed, hair still wet from the rain and sprinklers that went off in the building. There is a white powder residue on his nose and lips. The trash bag bed sheets are pulled up to his neck. He is shivering or twitching. He begins to mumble to himself, \"I didn't do. I didn't- I didn't do it. I really didn't do it. I d-didn't do it. I didn't do. I didn't- I didn't do it. I really didn't do it. I d-didn't do it. Ha I know I did not do it. It wasn't me man, it wasn't me. Ah I knew it was not me, I just knew it,\" he says laughing comfortably.\n\nTony stands on the stage at night. He is holding an unplugged microphone. He looks around for his people. They are nowhere to be found. He thinks he can hear their voices, their cries, and their pain. He runs down a desolate street looking for them. His feet start to sink into the ground. Deeper and deeper with every step. He sees the lights from the University. It is fading and getting further and further away. He panics, and then looks back and sees the fully formed monster. He has changed. Tony stands in awe. In the middle of the dirty street is a pulverized and bludgeoned monster lying face down, covered in blood, mud, water and bruises. The man slowly attempts to left himself. He cannot. His breathing sounds wheezy and gets louder and louder. Somehow it seems as if an invisible force lifts him underneath his arm pits and to his feet. His head hangs on his chest. He takes his first disjointed step looking like a small calf having just been born. His legs are shaking as he cannot support the weight of his frail body. Blood drips from the pulverized man and onto the street. The street, which is already covered in his blood, is overflowing the vents. Another step. Then another. He comes towards Tony, one shaky and grotesque step at a time. Tony cannot take his eyes off of him. He cannot make out one distinguishable characterization of the face because it is so beaten and swollen. As he gets close enough for Tony to touch him he reaches for him, as if to ask for assistance. Tony's stomach is tied in knots and flipping around his abdomen. He can feel something rising in his esophagus. Teeth begin falling out of this man's mouth as he tries to talk. Then he crumbles to the ground at Tony's feet. His wheezing finally stopped. The scar begins to ooze blood. He tears at his eyes once more to see.\n\nTony tries to run back towards his dorm. His feet still sink into the ground with every step. His dorm is getting further and further away. He reaches his arm to try and grab the University and pull it closer. He panics. He falls to the ground crying. He looks back and the monster has vanished.\n\nIII\n\nTony shakes and throws off his trash bag bed sheets and slides out of bed still wet from the rain, but he is also sweating and looks feverish. Mitch is sleeping with his eyes open. His eyes follow Henry as he slumbers into the bathroom. He stands looking into the mirror thinking of the monster with the scars. Fear creeps in again. He also thinks of the woman with the buzz saws and administers another dose of rubbing alcohol and Q-Tips to his penis. He yells again. The veins in his neck are bulging. His face is red.\n\n\"Tony what the hell is going on in there? Do you need a laxative? Calls out a groggy Mitch.\n\n\"No, no I'm fine.\" Tony says in a strained voice. He twists and turns the Q-Tip around inside. Then he pulls it out. He is panting and sweating. He drops it into the toilet and flushes.\n\nThe dorm room phone rings. Mitch just lets it ring and ring until the automated message systems picks it up.\n\nHe turns his gaze to this mirror. His eyes are bloodshot, face looking old and thin. Although, now his hair, which at one time been his calling, card is looking slightly greasy and tangled. He runs his hands through it. The knots will not let him finish and his hand gets struck. He splashes water in his face, licks his lips and walks out.\n\nTony comes through the bathroom door to find Mitch sitting on the side of his bed with his head buried in his hands. He looks at him with a lowered brow.\n\n\"They want to see us,\" Mitch says in a cracked voice.\n\n\"Who? And why?\"\n\n\"The resident advisor and the fire.\"\n\n\"Why, we didn't do anything? Remember?\" Tony says with conviction.\n\n\"The alarm in the hallway is right by our door. I told them we were here and they think it is suspicious that we don't know anything.\"\n\n\"That's monkey shit!\"\n\n\"I think someone ratted on us. They said they heard me and you bragging about it.\"\n\n\"What the fuck. We'll be alright, man. They don't have shit on us.\"\n\n\"We meet them this afternoon. They said if we don't confess they're getting the law dogs on us. They're going to make us take a lie detector test. Right now they just want it to be a university thing. They're coming after me, man.\"\n\n\"You're paranoid. Everything will be alright, bro. Just take it easy.\"\n\nTony is staring into the large windows of the Resident Advisors office.\n\nMitch looks to be stating his case as he is throwing his arms in the air emphatically. The Advisor, a woman, and her assistant are not paying a bit of attention to him, frustrating him to no end. Mitch seems to be on the verge of tears. The advisor and her assistant are sitting at a desk, the assistant across from the advisor, with her back turned to Mitch. He walks to the desk and starts pounding his fists. Nothing. He storms around the room, squeezing his forehead with his sweaty palms. His face is red with anger.\n\nTony lights a cigarette and walks to the window to get a closer listen. No one can see him but he still cannot hear anything. He notices that Mitch is calming down but still has his jaw and fists clinched. He turns his back to the Advisor and her assistant. They have a one page document and are reading it back and forth to each other, highlighting specific areas. All of the sudden Mitch snaps his head around, yells something obscene and angrily walks out of the office slamming the door and rattling plaques and other walk decorations.\n\nMitch comes out of the door and joins Bryan and Tony. He is nervous and begins chain smoking.\n\n\"I'm going to say I was involved too man, fuck it,\" says Bryan.\n\n\"You were, you silly shit,\" says Tony pissed off.\n\n\"You're not bigger than the fucking law and this fucking institution. They got us. We're going down. We're going to get kicked out of school,\" says Mitch even more pissed off.\n\n\"Well they still, technically, don't know who did it. Whoever did it needs to be a man and stand up though,\" says Bryan.\n\n\"They got us. They fucking got us,\" whispers Mitch to himself, shaking his head and is continuously smoking cigarette after cigarette.\n\n\"Do we just go to her office? What do we do?\" asks Tony.\n\n\"Yeah. I feel sick, man. I feel anxious and dehydrated. I feel like I'm going to die.\"\n\n\"I can't believe all this. You should just tell them the truth. They have nothing on you,\" advises Bryan.\n\n\"That's what I'm telling him,\" says Tony.\n\n\"What?\" says Bryan\n\n\"You're fucking losing it, man. You don't get it! We're going to get kicked out. Are you listening to a word ii am saying?\"\n\n\"Let's just go there and get it over with,\" scoffs Tony.\n\nThey begin to walk over to the door of the Advisor's office and Tony notices that both the women are staring at him. He looks away with a slanted smile.\n\nTony and Mitch sit side by side in two chairs with a desk across from them. On the desk are the charred remains of the university fliers. Mitch is pale and straight faced. He is also sweating and shaking. Ton is comfortable. He can't be touched. Delusional. Also pale and ghostly but not from nerves.\n\nThe Resident Advisor is still staring out of the window with her arms folded behind her back, with the assistant right beside her standing the same way. She's turns around and Tony notices she is young and vaguely attractive, in her early 30s. Her face looking different than when he saw her from the other side of the window. She looks powerful pissed. She walks directly to her desk and grabs the burned fliers. She has a homemade, laminated badge that says 'Resident Advisor Micah.'\n\n\"You're early,\" she says.\n\n\"I just want to get this over with,\" responds Tony.\n\n\"So this is what you think of our university?\" she says scathingly. \"Well I'm going to let you know that the last thing I want to do is get the police department involved. We can handle it in here. Even though in my heart of hearts you should be locked away.\"\n\n\"There's nothing to handle. We know nothing,\" says Tony, smiling.\n\n\"Sadly, um... I'm sorry, what is your name?\"\n\n\"Tony.\"\n\n\"Do you even live in the dorm?\"\n\"No, not technically.\"\n\n\"Will you stand by your defiance if I were to get the police involved?\"\n\n\"I have nothing to do with any of this. This is crazy. I have people who will say I have nothing to do with this. You would be wasting there time and your time.\n\nMicah flips through more papers, writes something notes. The assistant just stands there like a remedial bodyguard.\n\n\"I have nothing more to say. We have all the evidence we need. We're going to get finger prints from the flier, set up lie detector tests for you. Do you mind is we finger print you or do you have something on file. I am sure you do. We'll be in touch. But if by some chance you miraculously find out who really did this. Let me know.\"\n\n\"Waste. Of. Time,\" says Tony as they get up and walk out of her office. Mitch is in a hurry for the door. Tony follows behind but slowly.\n\nMitch is almost convulsing until he lights his cigarette, take the first drag and then instant bliss and relief. For a moment. He sinks down under a tree and smokes his cigarette in peace. Controlled chaos, as his mind must be racing but his body sits motionless.\n\n\"That didn't go as bad as I thought,\" chimes Tony.\n\n\"Sure. You practically insulted her by telling her she was wasting her time.\"\n\n\"Well, look at it this way. By the time they get everything figured out the semester will be almost over and we can just leave. Did you see that assistant? Ugh. I didn't know if she was a broad or a dude. Do you think they are lovers?\"\n\n\"I've thought about that.\"\n\n\"Leaving or the assistant?\"\n\n\"I have absolutely no love for this place. This valley is like Satan's ass crack and Radcliffe is the hole.\"\n\n\"We're all shit.\"\n\nA strong, cold wind blows, extinguishing their cigarettes.\n\n\"And he flaps his wings trying to escape. We need to leave.\"\n\n\"I am not finished yet. Maybe this is what will send this place into frenzy. Injustice to rally the troops. They are trying to take off the head to kill the body. They don't realize how strong we really are, Mitch. They really, really don't. This is it. This is our time. I didn't think the fire worked but in a way it has. They are going to twist this on us in a way that will provoke the masses to revolt. Maybe we can spread a few non truths too, to start the process of the slow burn.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about,\" Mitch says flabbergasted.\n\n\"The phenomenon is on the verge of bursting. Don't you realize the moral, political and economic crisis this place is going through? We feed this place and they bite us and smile. What was it about this Institution that made everyone want to be here? It was freedom, which is systematically being taken away. Whether it is outlawing parties, far away parking lots and a new parking garage for faculty, and what about the designated smoking areas? They will ban smoking soon too. This leads us to the destruction of corrupt ideals. This leads us up the scorched path of demoralization. But it means nothing to destroy and let something rot. Real strength is in the destruction and reconstruction of brand new ideals. That is strength, Mitch. That is what the strong do.\"\n\n\"At the rate you're going, the only thing that will be demoralized is you. And you will be up that path by yourself. And how do you have strength. I am surprised you didn't float away like a leaf just now.\"\n\nDarkness. Tony looks over at his best friend as he suffers over something he didn't have any involvement in. Mitch is constantly tossing and turning, not for comfort but because he is so nervous about what has and could transpire. Tony's facial expression paints a picture of regret and embarrassment. A moment of clarity. Tony stares at the sky wondering where the next phase in his dream may lead. A light snow begins to fall on to ground.\n\n\"Maybe we should just go for a ride man. That will take your mind off of all the shit going on here.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah you're probably right. But no talking.\"\n\nTony and Mitch are walking to Mitch's car. As they get to the Morelit Hall parking lot, where they parked the car, it isn't there. It has been towed away. Mitch is on the verge of tears of frustration. \"FUCK!\"\n\n\"Anything for a dollar, buddy. I told you.\"\n\nThey just look around hoping to accidentally stumble on it. Nothing.\n\n\"I do not have the money for this. What is going on? Why is all of this happening?\"\n\n\"Ok. A ride was not a good idea. There are better ways to forget about things. I have some beer upstairs. That always works well when I am trying to forget or feel better about something.\"\n\nTony and Mitch are sitting around a small card table in their room. Mitch is still depressed and angry. He has not even opened or touched his beer. Tony notices and reaches over and pops it open for him.\n\n\"I can't take you just sitting there lethargic.\"\n\n\"Can you not blame me, man? What the fuck? I hate paying for these fucking parking tickets. Thousands of dollars down the fucking tube for god damn parking tickets.\"\n\n\"How about this, I'll pay to get your truck back man. If you'd just get out of that bad mood. You're fucking depressing me.\"\n\n\"Yeah well I still have other things to worry about too. Like my mortality.\"\n\n\"That'll be taken care of soon man,\" he says then swigs a mouthful of brew. \"Very soon.\"\n\nBryan storms into the kitchen. \"Dude, I heard there's an 80s party we can get to that'll take our minds of everything. Come over here Tony I need to show you something.\"\n\n\"What now?\"\n\nThey walk into the bathroom where Bryan pulls out a plastic baggie with few pills inside. He dumps them onto the sink and cuts them up into a fine powder and then into lines.\n\n\"This is new man. I picked it up from some black dude standing outside. This'll make you feel on time.\"\n\n\"I hope so,\" says Tony, looking at the lines of powder and smiles. Salivating.\n\nBryan takes a powerful snort of a few lines with a small straw.\n\n\"Oh I've missed this so much\" Tony then takes a powerful snort of a few lines. He throws his head back and breathes heavily until he starts laughing. \"You got that right, boy! Wow!\n\nMitch walks in while Tony pushes Bryan aside and takes his lines. He shakes his head, turns, and walks out of the room.\n\nMitch walks outside and sees that Tony is smoking a cigarette outside by himself. He can hear the noise from the people inside. They didn't go to the eighties party, not this one at least.\n\nThe snow is still falling. Tony is merely wearing his usual attire. Snow is perched upon him as if he hasn't moved in hours.\n\nI know this may sound redundant, but you look like shit. You alright, man?\"\n\n\"Yeah bro, I'm cool. Not as high as I'd like. That stuff hits like a truck and then a few minutes later you come down. It sucks. But whatever.\"\n\n\"Thanks for helping me with the tow bill.\"\n\n\"Well, I just don't want to see my best friend all depressed and shit. It depressed me.\"\n\n\"Well regardless, I appreciate it, man. Means a lot.\"\n\n\"Good. Let me have your card so I can get back in the building. I'm a little tired. Don't feel like doing much.\"\n\n\"You sure you're feeling alright?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Just don't lose Bryan, or find a way to pass out on the floor or something.\"\n\nTony gets up and shakes the snow off. He walks off and Mitch sits there with an accepting smile. Then lights a cigarette of his own\n\nTony bursts through a solid oak door with purpose and sits in the same chair as he did before. He is in Micah's office. He sits with confidence and pride. The fliers are still there, never leaving the spot it was. Tony stares at the fliers. 'were they really going to do anything'? he thought.\n\nMicah looks surprised but walks around the office smiling. She was packing her belongings to leave for the evening.\n\n\"I assume You want to speak with me?\" All of the sudden a feeling arises in her stomach as if she were going to vomit. \"What is that smell? Have you been drinking?\"\n\n\"Um yeah. Well, here's the thing. I started the fire. It was me. Mitch has nothing to do with it. All me. No one else. End your investigation. Call off the dogs. Whatever.\"\n\n\"Ok well, I do appreciate your honesty. That is very mature of you. Like I said I really just want to keep this a university thing so with you saying that, law enforcement won't be needed. \"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\"However I do have to file a report with the university and you'll have to meet with the dean.\"\n\n\"It's cool. We go way back. I look forward to seeing him again.\"\n\n\"I doubt that is a good thing.\"\n\n\"Depends how you look at it.\"\n\n\"Well with you coming here to me and telling me this, it will definitely help you.\"\n\n\"Just tell me the damage. What's the punishment?\"\n\n\"Well with a clean record maybe 32 weeks of probation, which the university would have you clean up the grounds. Another thing is setting up props for festivals we'd be having. Stuff like that.\"\n\n\"I can handle that. What if I don't have a 'clean record'?\"\n\n\"Well then it gets difficult. You might be looking at suspension. Maybe a semester. At the most a year. I think I need to sit down.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"I guess it's safe to assume you don't have a clean record.\"\n\n\"What gave it away?\"\n\n\"Well I'm going to do the best I can to help you out. In all honesty you helped me out by being honest and making this somewhat less difficult for me.\"\n\n\"So what's the process here? You write something to the dean then what?\"\n\n\"Well I'm going to write the charges to the dean. He'll look them over and make a decision. Now I advise you that what you're going to need to do is get a trial by your peers. I can help you with that. Alcohol or anything other substance wasn't involved in this. That could mean more charges.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"OK good. Well I have nothing more. You should hear back from the dean fairly soon. And there will be a meeting set up with him to discuss the charges and repercussions.\"\n\n\"Like I said, Mitch had nothing to do with this. He is my best friend and seeing him tore up the way he was killed me. Can you write that down too?\"\n\n\"Sure. Who's Mitch, again?\"\n\nThey shake hands and Tony walks to exit when-\n\n\"Oh, before you go.\"\n\nTony slowly turns and cuts his eyes.\n\n\"You're not a martyr. Your finger prints were all over that flier. And who's Mitch?\"\n\nTony sends a psychotic-looking smile and walks out of the office and back to his room.\n\nMitch is passed out in his bed after a long night of drinking. Tony kicks his bed to wake him up. It doesn't work. He gets something out of the fridge, a beer and kicks the bed again, nothing.\n\n\"MITCH!\"\n\nNo response. Mitch is sleeping with his eyes open.\n\n\"Yo, dick! Get up!\"\n\nMitch starts to move, wakes up, and says something inaudible.\n\n\"Get up man shit.\"\n\n\"What up?\" Mitch says in a groggy voice.\n\n\"I need to talk to you. I gotta tell you something.\"\n\n\"Is it that important?\"\n\nWell how important is your college career or mortality or whatever you called it? I just talked to the hag.\n\nMitch shapes up quickly \"Fuck, man why didn't you tell me? I would have gone with you. I'm thinking about getting a lawyer, man, we'll be straight. This dude is wild looking but I hear he's good\"\n\n\"Well you better call him and tell him you are oh so sorry but you're off the hook anyways. I just confessed. You're in the clear.\"\n\n\"You confessed?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I told her I lit that thing on fire being dumb. Told her you had nothing to do with it.\"\n\n\"Holy fuck, man.\"\n\n\"Yeah the dean is going to be calling me soon. At that time he's going to have me drawn and quartered like William Wallace. You know he started a revolution too.\"\n\n\"And nothing is going to happen to me? You told them I was not involved?\"\n\n\"I told them the truth.\"\n\nMitch sits at the edge of the bed and bows his head in relief. He smiles. Tears well up in his eyes.\n\n\"Thank you. Thank you so much.\"\n\n\"Nah man, you don't have to thank me. I'm sorry you had to go through suffering like you did.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Call your lawyer and tell him everything is ok. You do, however, owe me $84.\"\n\n\"$84? For what?\"\n\n\"That's how much it is going to cost me to get your car out of the impound. Just pay me whenever. But I won't forget.\"\n\nMitch runs and grabs the dorm phone and takes it outside.\n\nTony climbs in his bed and just stares off into the ceiling. Motionless and with a blank look on his face. The voices are coming back. Millions of them. He lets himself get absorbed in the voices and his own thoughts. It looks like they are here to stay.\n\nTony is sitting across from the Dean Dickson, he did his best to try and look not so much like a rock and roll hobo. Dean Dickson is reading the files from what Micah has written. He looks powerful pissed. Tony sits bored and irritable but looks around the room again, decorated plaques from his college career and other things. Fraternity plaques, university plaques, community service plaques etc. he notices something new on the wall, a picture with him and the sheriff shaking hands.\n\n\"Tony. I'm sorry I almost forgot you were even here. How are you?\"\n\n\"And we meet again. I am doing well. Yourself?\"\n\n\"More trouble I see.\"\n\n\"It sure looks that way, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"Guess you know already, this isn't looking good for you.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, what?\"\n\nWell I will spell it out for you with crayons and construction paper since you seem to be too stupid to understand. Let me first start by reading the charges. I have starting a fire in a building, disruptive behavior, endangering conduct, and finally damaging of university property.\n\n\"I didn't damage the wall or anything.\"\n\n\"I'm talking about the fliers.\"\n\nTony looks on stunned and awestruck, but says nothing.\n\n\"I move to have you expelled affective immediately and in that time you are not at all allowed to step foot on university soil, you understand?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry. What?\" He is still in shock.\n\n\"Now you can appeal this and have a hearing of your peers.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah let's do that one.\"\n\n\"Alright. But you don't stand a chance, son. This is your second offense for endangering conduct. From the little alcohol induced incident a while ago.\"\n\n\"Well fortunately l Micah said she'd do everything she can do to help me.\"\n\n\"She can do nothing to help you. You haven't done anything to help yourself. Look around this office, sure I've done some things I'm not at all proud of but look.\"\n\nTony looks around the office, again, still not impressed.\n\n\"I graduated from Radcliffe not once, but twice. Twice! That's helping you. Granted you still have time, but if you keep this attitude and behavior up, you will go nowhere in life. A bum in the streets, a street urchin monster covered in your own feces.\n\n\"Ok first off, how is a flier university property? Second, why am I being suspended?\"\n\n\"OK first off, anything with Radcliffe University stamped on it is university property. If a damn ant had Radcliffe on it and you step on it, you'd be damaging university property. Second, why am I suspending you?\" he says with a bellowing laugh. \"Well I want you out of here. In my opinion, you're a danger to this campus on or off. This place is a lot bigger than you. I am a lot bigger than you. And that is the way it is going to stay. Do you understand that?\n\n\"I understand. However I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into. I will save the rest of what I have to say for the appeal.\"\n\n\"Well how about we schedule it for later today.\"\n\n\"That sounds perfect. I will see you soon.\"\n\n\"And I'll make sure it'll be the last time.\"\n\n\"We'll see.\"\n\n\"I told you before that I can ruin you. Now I think you're getting off light. You leave this place and never come back. Ever. Not even to visit. I don't care if your own mother was a student here. You are to never come back. And if I see you, well, let's just say, don't let me see you anywhere.\"\n\nTony is pissed off. He angrily gets up, knocks the chair over and leaves, slamming the door behind him. Dickson remains seated and smiles victoriously.\n\nTony stands out in the middle of the brick walk way which is in front of the food court. His head is hung as he looks around him. Students are walking with book bags to class. Some are just out walking their dogs with coffee in hand, while others are walking without a purpose. No one even looks his way.\n\nTony starts walking in the direction of his building. He walks without ever looking up, fidgeting from the cold and mumbling gibberish to himself. He walks through the front door and makes a bee line straight for Micah's office. Her door is open, and she is standing by her fax machine.\n\n\"Damaging school property? Endangering conduct? I didn't site these. Well like I said I'll be with you there. He wants to do this in a few hours.\"\n\n\"Right, yeah, I bet you're behind me,\" he says violently. \"Ready to push me off the edge. Well I'm right there. All I need is just a little push. But I will let you know, you, him, you're not bigger than me. I don't need help from you. You two are cut from the same authoritative cloth.\n\nCloth can burn too.\n\nMicah is looking at Tony in fear of what he is going to do. Tony exit's the room and slams the door behind him. Micah walks over to the window and looks out and sees Tony lighting up a cigarette walking in circles mumbling again. Then he starts laughing uncontrollably and jumping around.\n\nTony is tearing through his closet. Looking at the clothes he has. There are rock shirts ripped jeans and a random assortment off all kinds of dirty linens. There is absolutely nothing in there that resembles anything presentable or someone going to a meeting. But there is something in the back: the white button up shirt, which he wore when he was arrested. Still dirty and covered in blood. Of course, he grabs it. He throws his rail thin arms inside and buttons the buttons all the way to his neck.\n\nTony walks the lonely sidewalks. They are wet from the falling rain. A steady pounding rain. His hair is tangled and wet, dripping down his face. He is constantly mumbling uncontrollably and incoherently as he walks. Not a soul is on the sidewalk or the quads adjacent to them. No one is even looking out there windows at him, all the curtains are closed. He is alone in his fight.\n\nThe chair is squeaking as Tony sits, rocking back and forth in a wooden chair waiting for word to come in. There is a false sense of security around him. He is oozing confidence, not understanding the levity of the situation. Assistants and interns continually walk by just to have a look at the wet, greasy, frail renegade where a filthy shirt covered in his blood. Finally one speaks, \"They are ready for you, sir,\" she says nervously.\n\nTony gets up and walks to into the conference room. Tony takes a seat by Micah, who smiles at him. In the room there are Dean Dickson, and three others: an old man teacher, and slightly younger female teacher, and a student.\n\n\"Well Tony come in and takes a seat, please,\" says a cocky Dickson.\n\n\"My peers or your peers,\" Tony asks.\n\n\"Everything will be ok,\" whispers Micah.\n\nTony stares directly at Dickson under his lowered brow paying no attention to Micah or anyone else in the room.\n\n\"This will be recorded. Fine with everyone?\" asks Dickson.\n\nAll parties nod in agreement, except Tony who isn't listening. He clicks the button on the recorder.\n\n\"Well let's get started shall we? We are gathered here to discuss Tony's ruling that I have handed down. That being there semester's worth of suspension. Now Tony doesn't agree with the punishment and neither does Micah. If you will start, tell us what you have gathered in your investigation.\"\n\n\"Well as everyone knows, we did have an alarm go off in Morelit Hall several weeks back. And upon that time the fire department was called and found a burnt flier on the third floor.\"\n\n\"Where exactly on the third floor was with flier found and tell us which alarm was going off.\"\n\n\"Both outside the room Tony was reported to be staying.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\nDickson flips through some papers furiously. \"Thank you, Micah. You can leave now. We're finished with you,\" he says waving her off. \"Good bye.\"\n\nMicah stares for a minute at Dickson. She is stunned. She stares at Tony, her mouth a gape. She whispers to Tony, \"I'm sorry.\" Micah gets up and walks out of the conference room. Tony takes zero notice.\n\nDickson turns his full attention back on Tony. He is all business, maybe a little too much business.\n\n\"Now what I can not get over is how someone could light a piece of paper on fire inside of a building where students sleep, they study; they hang out, and talk. And you could have killed them. Over three hundred students. Why son? Why? Did you think you could get away with it? You could have killed your own peers.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Speak up son. We have to hear you over here. This is being recorded. Speak up.\"\n\nTony's anger sets in. \"I will speak up but I don't think you are going to like what I have to say,\" he growls through clinched teeth.\n\n\"Well I sure as hell don't like what you've done. But go ahead.\"\n\n\"Where do we begin,\" he says with a devilish giggle. He runs his skinny, frail, pale hand through his hair. He wipes the water and grease on his pants. His lips are wet with anticipation. \"Well let me start by saying that I am not going to sit here and jerk off your ego like these dogs and clowns sitting in front of me. It's like a fascist circus in here. You are arrogant, narcissistic, incestuous, uptight, and you live your life just to show that you made it and that you're better than everyone else because you have some sort of power. This is not about doing what is right for you, it's a continuation of putting someone else down because you can. You like watching people suffer. Well I'm not suffering. I didn't come here to defend myself because I know what I did. I did it. Fuck it. And fuck you. I came here to tell you, that I want you to kick me out now. This place is a dump. This place that you represent is a dump. And that label on the flier, you represent also. I watched it burn and I liked. I burned your label. But trust me there's a lot more things in this place to worry about than me lighting a piece of paper on fire. That'll never change. It's like rolling a rock up a steep hill. Once you get to the top of the hill and think you've accomplished something, the rock will right back down to the bottom. And you do it again. And again. And again. It's the culture here. You can do whatever you want to try and change it with your rules. But let me please speak for everyone when I say, keep your change. Your change is useless. You cannot highjack freedom for economic relief. The longer you stay the more you and your goals will deteriorate while the people you use will watch and get pleasure from your pain. The martyr never gets to watch what he creates. The decline of your morality and values will finally give rise to decadence and valueless ness. I can excuse myself. Dick. Son.\n\nTony gets up and leaves while laughing and leaving everyone in the room in a state of bewilderment.\n\nThe rain is pouring as he is walking proudly throughout the university. He stops outside his building and turns to see the university. A manically laugh follows him. He lights a cigarette and sits on the stage. By himself. Thinking. Mitch walks out from behind the trees. He sits beside Tony.\n\n\"Well, you look terrible,\" Mitch says with a smile.\n\n\"I look great. And I feel better.\"\n\n\"So would I be wrong in assuming this is our last night here?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\n\"I think I finally did some good for myself.\"\n\n\"I bet you did.\"\n\n\"Yeah. I look back at everything I've done and have no regrets. I don't think this is what my parents had in mind when they sent me away to this Institution to get educated. I'm in the fast lane to the land of nothingness.\"\n\n\"No, and I think if you told them some of the things you've done or seen, I don't even know if they'll believe you.\"\n\n\"You should know that once I leave this place a lot of things will change.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"There won't be anymore all-nighters. No more drinks, pot none of that. No more fucking Dickson, thank god. I remember before I even came here, someone told me that the party scene would get to you. Well I will be damned if he wasn't right. I got caught right in the maelstrom.\"\n\n\"We all did. But you know I was once told that sometimes you never even really know how bad the smell of shit is until you smell fresh air. \"\n\n\"There will be a day when this place has finally succumbed to the people it dictates to.\"\n\n\"Didn't you notice something when you left that conference hall? Or even after you meeting with Dickson. As you stood there letting the rain drops fall on top of you what did you see?\"\n\n\"I saw an old woman hading dinosaur over a fence; I saw sunlight in a vacuum.\"\n\n\"Come on.\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Exactly. This place may fall, but there's a better chance that it will fall because of itself. Self dissolution. Do not hope and lead nothing other than your own actions. You will find life is much better that way. If not, you will just be an irrational person failing in an irrational world.\"\n\n\"Good to know that everything I have done means absolute shit.\"\n\n\"Indeed, but after a while all the memories will only live inside your thoughts, and I believe you said you have ways to erase that.\"\n\n\"I just wish I had more time. I wasted every moment I had in self indulgence that I failed to realize any of my surroundings. I could still get this started.\"\n\n\"You are going to drive yourself insane.\"\n\n\"Or maybe the people just aren't ready. Maybe I took things a little too far and am a little ahead of my time. And no. I am far from insane. The only thing that is insane is this place.\"\n\n\"Fine. How do you plan on spending your last night here, as a free man?\"\n\n\"Same as we always do. Some things just shouldn't change.\"\n\n\"There's a beer pong tournament tonight at one of the frat houses.\"\n\nTony is staring at his emasculated body. Months of drinking, smoking, drugging and have taken their toll. His face is sunken in and his eyes are red and purple. His hair still long and blonde but now is more disheveled and greasy from not washing. He snorts some white powdery substance. He splashed water on his face. His chest and stomach are now sunken in as well. There seems to be no muscle left on his body. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his lighter and a cigarette, not caring about being indoors. He looks back at himself. He flicks his lighter and holds it to his face and burns his eye brows off..\n\nHe goes and puts some clothes on. A black sweater with thumb holes cut out. A black hooded zip up sweater. Ripped jeans. He is almost ready to go until he sees something on the corner floor of his closet. His bandana. He struts out of the bathroom. \"Let's go.\"\n\nMitch and Bryan look on in horror at the sight of their fallen friend.\n\nTony signs him and Mitch up for the beer pong tournament and pays the five dollar sign up fee. The frat house is not unlike the others: dirty, grimy, dark, and moist; however the floors in the one are carpeted and the walls are covered with old particle board and decorated with black spray paint.\n\n\"We're in that bracket over there. We play those dudes over there.\"\n\n\"They should just hold the money for us. No doubt.\"\n\nMitch and Tony walk to the beer pong table where their opponents and a small crowd of people have gathered to watch.\n\n\"I have to piss.\" says Mitch leaving.\n\nThey start off with eye to eye and their opponents win. They both shoot and make their shots to bring it back to them to shoot again. The two guys both make it again. Balls go back to them. Then one dude bounces and makes it to end the game. A skunk. The people around the table are going crazy at what just happened. They are all heckling Tony, even though he really did nothing wrong. He never had a chance. The people he was supposed to lead are all having a laugh at his expense.\n\nTony is mortified as people are telling him he has to run around the house naked. He walks through the basement feverishly looking for Mitch, with other people looking and laughing. More people form a larger crowd to watch him run.\n\nThe large crowd has gathered outside the house, still heckling. Tony strips. Leaving only his shoes on. The people are appalled. His body looks like a thin slab of skin covering a model skeleton. He takes no notice.\n\nHe makes his lap around the house naked. His pale thin skin is jiggling up and down with each step. His rib cage is clearly evident and shockingly disgusting. As he passes the street horns honk and cops blue lights flicker. He runs even quicker to get back to his clothes and everyone that was outside is now gone. He immediately puts his clothes back on and runs down the street.\n\nThe night is cold; Tony is walking down the street as fast as he can. He turns around and notices someone running towards him. He squints to try and make out who it is. It's Mitch.\n\n\"Where in the hell have you been?\"\n\n\"I went up to take a piss, came back down and you were gone. What happened?\"\n\n\"I got skunked and had to run around the fucking house. Naked. By myself. I was laughed at. They were looking and pointing and laughing at me\"\n\n\"That's unfortunate.\"\n\n\"I'm calling Q. I need some help. He will help me out.\"\n\n\"He can't offer the help you need.\"\n\nTony pulls his cell phone from his pocket and dials the number. \"Yo, Q I need your help brother. Where you at?\" he pauses getting an answer. \"We'll be right there.\"\n\nA drunken student stumbles in front of them and pukes up a whole days worth of food.\n\n\"Hey, watch it we're walking here! You fuck.\" As the student is bent over Tony shoves him with his foot and he falls to the ground in his own vomit.\n\nTony and Mitch find themselves at another random house and descend the basement staircase to the pit of mud and drunkenness. There are lights wound around the support beams of the basement to add to affect of something. No one is really quite sure. Everything else is as follows: mud, beer/water/piss puddles, crushed cans, cigarette butts, etc.\n\nTony walks to the beer stand. \"What's there to drink here?\"\n\n\"What else? Beast.\" says the dork behind the bar.\n\n\"Beast? Fuck that shit, man! Pabots Blue Ribbon!\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I will fuck anything that moves!\"\n\n\"Just take a beast, dude.\"\n\nTony puts his hand out and accepts. Mitch is embarrassed. Tony sees Q in the corner of the room. He struts over to him as he is lighting up a little glass piece.\n\n\"That for me?\" asks Tony confidently.\n\n\"No doubt.\" answers Q\n\nQ hands Tony his glass piece. It is unknown what this substance is. It's not green. Tony lights the end and a fine white smoke fills then pipe, with a deep thrusting inhale the smoke disappears into his lungs. He holds. Holds. Holds. Then exhales. Almost immediately he turns blue and then translucent. He is beyond the ghostly figure he was before and looks like a living incarnation of death.\n\nMitch finally walks over, beers in hand. He hands Tony one. Tony's hand trails and moves in slow motion to the can and it slips right through his hand. Just as soon as Mitch looks at him, Tony is hearing the voices. There's so many voices and cannot differentiate what they are saying. Millions of voices are pouring through him. He cringes in pain and falls. Before he goes face first into the mud/shit/piss combination covering the floor he floats through the door and is immediately outside and aimlessly walking the streets. The wind is blowing hard and the rain falling accordingly. Again he mumbles nonsense. He has no idea what he is looking for until his eyes happen upon the monster. Tony is slowly drawn over to him. The monster is seated on the curb of the road with his head between hid legs, still wearing his dirty overcoat.\n\nHis head turns up, eyes still sewn shut, and holds his dirty, almost skeletal hand out to Tony. Tony holds his hand out accepting. The monster smiles a hyper active alligator grin and gets up. They proceed down the street to abandoned house. The windows and doors are all boarded up. There's moss and random dead plants that have grown up the sides of the house. They approach the fallen and broken porch, and carefully walk the stairs. The monster extends his arm and tears through the boarded up door.\n\nThey proceed through the empty living room. The floor is covered in dust. No person has walked these floors in what could be, centuries. The wall paper is peeling off the walls exposing the studs and the floor boards are buckling. They continue through until the approach another basement staircase. Tony takes one step on the dirty stair case and falls through and plummets to the basement floor, splashing in the mud, piss cocktail.\n\nUpon rising from the floor he sees the party he was just at. Instead of lights on the support beams they are on fire. There is a gathering of people. There are faces in hands in the walls. they are reaching out, trying to grab something. Or someone. He slowly moves through. He can't. He gets more physical. When the people turn to see who's pushing, their faces are elongated and smiles hyper active. He is frightened. He keeps pushing his way through until he sees his own body on the floor, covered in the mud, shit, and piss combination. He is motionless. He goes to his body and drops to his knees. Everyone around him is laughing and drawing closer to him. He grabs his body and pulls it to his chest and starts crying. He is holding his dead body. The party attendants are bearing over top of him. They start grabbing at him. They are trying to tear him apart. He does his best to fight them off. He sees the monster staring at him. The crowds of people now have control of him and are dragging and pulling him to the monster. Tony is kicking and screaming. The voices get louder and louder. They bring him to the monster that opens his mouth wide enough to swallow Tony whole again. Tony's nasty, greasy, wet hair is blowing behind him from the air blowing at him from the monster mouth. Tony then opens his mouth wide and yells. The monster closes his mouth and the people scatter away like spiders, scared. Tony looks around at them and notices the old man is stepping back and fading away smiling. Tony is standing alone by his dead body. Just as he grabs his body the house begins to shake and walls are starting to crumble. He doesn't move and stays with his body. The bodies in the walls are still reaching. The ceiling is falling around him but he grabs hold tighter to his body. When everything falls around him -\n\nTony is lying half naked on Mitch's cold bathroom floor, wearing only his boxers and bandana. He is alone. His hair is all astray, dirty. Next to his head is vomit with blood sprinkled in it. He looks at his pale, ghostly skin and body and doesn't know if he is alive. He struggles to lift his head off the ground. His body is tingling, trying to regain sensation.\n\nThe tile walls are covered in nonsensical, subconscious word spatter. Travel the path beyond the ordinary mind. Seek a greater wisdom. Where are we going to bury him? Drink and dance Midget, gnash your teeth. Fuck Hope, she strangles one sunny day. We live in a cell block of granite walls and granite floors. You've been carrying that dead boy around for too long! Sanity is like a prostitute, she will stretch a mile before she tears an inch. Mary is helpless. I am a waste. I am the Fool's Messiah. Miss him, miss him. Everybody fucks up, everybody fucks up. Why aren't we crying like everyone else? At the juncture of Death, there is no Light just the inexistence of Darkness. He makes an effort to force a smile on his lips. Who do we really think we are? Mickey Mouse bribed a baby killer. End scene. You better hang on to yourself. Nobody wants to see what is inside of there. Part one is living. Breathe slowly, breathe deeply. Fucking cut!\n\nFinally a knock at the door.\n\n\"Yeah, come in,\" he says with a strained cough.\n\nMitch pushes through the doorway, \"Holy fuck! You look dead, man\"\n\n\"I have been to hell and back and have never felt more alive.\"\n\n\"Oh man, come on, get up we're going to the hospital.\" Mitch walks to him and grabs for him.\n\n\"No, no don't. I'm done.\" Tony peels the bandana off his head and dumps it in the toilet.\n\nMitch stares for a moment, looking at Tony, to the toilet with the bandana floating inside, then back to Tony. He nods, disproving and saddened, but exit's the bathroom walking slowly backwards and fades from Tony's view.\n\nTony reaches with all his might trying to flush the bandana. The tips of his finger are merely flicking the handle. He moans and strains while lifting his half dead body off the cold bathroom floor and finally succeed in the disposal of the bandana. The bandana spins around the toilet and disappears into the pipes, leaving the trash and sewage above the ground to rest with the trash and sewage below.\n\nHe flops back down onto the floor. He looks around on the floor and sees apoplectic scribbling. There are long lines, distorted and twisted with smudged black ink and drawn with a finger tip. They look like branches writhing away from a perverted trunk. A nefarious Tree of Life. This doleful, unpropitious tree encapsulates his entire vitreous bag of bones. His eyes are icy blue with red veins so profound they look as if they are elevated from the eye. He ends this evening with a dry cough and gravelly laugh.\n\nIV\n\nAn alarm sounds, awaking Henry who sluggishly throws his arm over and tries to slap the top of the clock to shut it off. He misses. The clock reads 6 AM.\n\nThe host from Radcliffe's only talk-radio show switches on. His voice is nasal, much like a host from fifties or sixties. \"The campaigning for sheriff is in full swing, with front runner, current Sheriff Wharton promising sweeping changes. He intends to continue his work with the newly appointed Dean of Students at our Radcliffe University.\" He switches to a clip from a campaign press reading.\n\n\"It is our goal to maintain a standard for the people within this community and student body. There cannot be a divide between the two,\" says Sheriff Wharton whose voice has a deep, country twang. It is hard but reassuring for the red neck white trash who calls this dump home.\n\nHenry finally rolls out of bed and slowly walks over to his bathroom door, which has no knob so he just pushes it open. He reaches into his yellow stained medicine cabinet and pulls out his tooth brush and tooth paste, untwists the top, spreads the tooth paste on the brush and starts brushing.\n\nSheriff Wharton's campaign message continues in the background, \"We also need to have a welcome environment for our incoming students. I do not want to sugar coat the problems we have here. The crime rate has been going up. Illegal substances, such as narcotics are on the streets. We need to clean that up, for the safety of the residents also for present and future students.\"\n\nHenry rears his head back, then lunges forward and lets out a loud spit into the sink. He looks down and sees a small amount of blood mixed in with the discharged tooth paste. He turns on the sink, cups his hands, fills it with water and puts it in his mouth. He rinses and spits it back out. Only small traces of blood remain.\n\n\"If re-elected I fully intend to continue working closely with the university. We live in a college town. We are also small, Christian town as well. We need to get back to our close knit, small town values that helped this city thrive. We will get back,\" closes Sheriff Wharton. Henry can only imagine that at the end of the message he delivers a wink and gun.\n\nHe walks across his room, his bed, if you can call it that, is merely a mattress thrown on top of a box spring with a ragged pillow and black comforter. The only other objects in his room are a small plastic crate serving as a night stand which holds his dated clock radio, a little refrigerator, and a microwave. Nothing is on the walls and only one small window.\n\nThe radio host reappears, \"This station is of course endorsing Sheriff Wharton and his cause to get us back to where we belong. I love being able to know everyone's name and not being afraid to walk our streets. Yes let's get the university involved and integrate into our community. Let's not be separate. The university needs to clean up too. The students are proud to be decadent, hedonistic; fools for freedom. Let's come together\"\n\nAs Henry walks by, he stops and hits his mark on the radio to shut it off and something else catches his attention. He walks to his window and looks out to see a homeless, decrepit black man swinging his pocket sized Holy Bible in the air, yelling nutty, religious nonsense and laughing hysterically. Drunk with lunacy, he is alone and filthy. His sweater is covered in dirt and his pants pocket has a bottle of whiskey hanging out the side.\n\nA fat, white man with a gigantic belly and greasy hair walks toward the Holy Roller. In the fat mans hand is brown bag that is wrinkled and squeezed against the bottle which it is covering. As he passes, the Holy Roller reaches for the brown bag and as the white man pushes him away, the Holy Roller taunts his mini Bible at him, cursing him.\n\nHenry finishes his short walk and stops at his closet. He opens it to reveal a scant amount of clothing. Most of his clothes are his work clothes; green, collared cotton shirts with navy blue pants. The rest are tee shirts and jeans. He puts on his clothes, grabs his keys from a nail by the door and walks outside.\n\nOnce out of his door, he is immediately greeted by propaganda from different candidates for different local office positions whether it is sheriff, school board and even commonwealth's attorney. And as he saw in his head, there is of course a pamphlet for Sheriff Wharton giving a wink and a gun, a large smile and turning his body in a way to showcase his large badge. He walks up the exterior stairs to ground level and takes a disgusted look at his house, which was seemingly built by a blind carpenter.\n\nIt is a cold morning, with overcast, the usual for the City of Radcliffe. The days of sun are few and far between. This is a place needing change. The sound of the only train that comes though town comes roaring down its tracks accompanying Henry as he walks along them. He sees several cargo cars empty, thinking maybe he should hop aboard and leave this town. Then near the caboose of the train one cattle car carries a group of nomadic, second guessing students who probably saw one look at the brick arch way of hell and refused to get off. The lost souls stare at him with a blank expression and glassy eyes. As the train passes, he can hear the din of the handless clock tower.\n\nHenry stops and looks at his shape shifting town. He sees on the left of the highway the first semblance of progressive movement. There are soccer fields, a newly constructed playground, and a large swimming pool with a slide and fountain in the middle. All of which is built over top of old sewage grounds.\n\nUnfortunately that is not the reality of this excrementitious dump within the valley. Henry looks to his right and sees a row of weather beaten brick apartment buildings that have not seen maintenance since their inception. The mortar that holds the buildings together are falling apart, making him wonder how the building is still upright. Also, there is an abandoned shopping mall and the old paper factory. Some of the windows of the shopping mall are boarded up, others are covered in steel. The walls painted black and decorated with graffiti. The factory has been left for dead for years. The small, stained windows have been either shattered or are broken from the hoodlums throwing rocks through them. Gone are the steam columns and the stench of burning wood.\n\nThe roads and side walks are cracked, uneven and covered with trash and dead leaves. Along the side walks are trees that look as if they are transplants from a haunted forest, rotted; no leaves. They reach into the sky like the ghastly fingers of a witch. The roads are filled with pot holes and layers of garbage, left by the garbage that resides within the broken down houses.\n\nHenry finally reaches a cemetery and pushes an unlocked black, metal, cemetery gate which creaks as it swings open. He walks through along a thin, foot-beaten dirt path through the graves. After passing row upon row of headstones, he leaves the path he walks finely between the sites as to not step on and disrespect the dead. The grass is long and has not been maintained. Some of the larger headstones have been dishonored and defiled by graffiti, some even spray painted completely black, blocking the name. The rest of the larger headstones that have not been vandalized have disintegrated. The flowers which have been placed on the graves have all wilted and withered, while some have no flowers at all, just empty vases.\n\nHe finishes his walk and stops at one particular grave plot, kneeling down slowly and bowing his head. He then pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes away tears. There is no name on the grave, just a small metal handle on the marker.\n\nUpon getting up, he turns around and notices something he has never seen before but does not look new. It is a statue of an angel. She is on her knees, but not in prayer. She has her head in her hands which is resting on a bench. Her wings are relaxed and not ready for flight.\n\nAl's Used Auto Parts and Hardware is one of the few surviving businesses. Sharing the same building however is Radcliffe Steel, which is closed down. Their carrier trucks still fill a few parking spots collect rust. A tall, chain linked fence surrounds the building, with a row of barbed wire on top, much like a prison.\n\nHenry walks along the wet parking lot, listening to the faint pitter padded of rain falling on the aluminum roof. Junk cars are scattered, hoods and doors opened missing parts from inside. Every car collects its share of rust. He ends his walk at a blue entrance door, the sign reading: 'EMPLOYEES ONLY'. He grabs the round, metal door knob with one hand and places his other hand on the door. He takes a deep breath and pushes open the door. He walks to the back of an open floor space to where his metal desk is positioned facing the floor. His work space is the receiving area of the warehouse. All new coming products must be seen and put into the inventory by him. His desk is cluttered with manifests of sales transactions and an old computer used only for managing the inventory. Henry looks down at his papers. His manager has left a note asking him to count the product for an inventory check. He sits down at his desk and looks around the warehouse. Directly in front of the open space, there are three rusty, rotating bins, much like what are seen in a laundry mat, only these containing parts and various assortments of hardware. Within the bins are 40 sections that are about 8 feet tall and 3 feet wide. There are also 10 shelves per bin containing boxes with parts inside. The parts inside the boxes range from the size of a small nut to the size of a ball joint. All parts must be counted and counted correctly.\n\nAs Henry rifles through his desk drawers looking for a pen and a clip board, the parts driver, Maxwell, who works from the back also arrives. Even at a distance the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke is over bearing. The toxins have become one with every drop of perspiration and likewise every stitch of cloth that covers his body. He looks like he has not slept as well. Or showered. Or brushed his teeth. But he doesn't have teeth, or wear his dentures, and presumably does not have any running water. His hair and beard are greasy and speckled with grey. This is not an old man by any means being in his late 40s.\n\nMaxwell walks right past Henry with out acknowledgment, going to the back door and outside to smoke a cigarette. He lights one that has already been lit and smoked, partially. He takes a few drags, puts it out and walks back in; right to the radio and turns it on, looking for his favorite classic rock station, but all he gets is static.\n\nHenry rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath when he hears, \"Homie!\" from Maxwell in a slurred, cigarette-scratched voice.\n\n\"I am surprised you aren't late today?\" Henry responds.\n\n\"I almost quit this morning. Tim had to talk me into coming back. I have been here for 10 years and I don't make enough to support myself. No appreciation either,\" again slurring.\n\n\"How many times have you quit, and came back?\"\n\n\"Too many times to count, I don't know.\"\n\n\"To be honest, and I mean no offense by this, but you should consider yourself lucky. You are not really qualified for much else. You're an alcoholic and extremely unreliable. You should consider yourself lucky. There is not much work around here. Look right next door. They had no idea they were closing down until pencil pushing human resource genius came down and told them to go home and not come back. Jobs are scarce. But you seem like a person who would enjoy living off of unemployment.\"\n\nMaxwell is getting frustrated. His voice becomes louder because when people who do not know what they're talking about feel they are losing an argument, they think an amplified stupidity makes them sound more intelligent.\n\n\"Hell, I have a buddy who runs a shop that will hire me on the spot, sixty thousand a year on the spot. I don't really need the money, but it's there.\"\n\nHenry just stares at him, not wanting to engage in anymore conversation with a person who is too unintelligent to make a decent argument. He picks up his papers and pen and walks up to his first bin to start his counting. Grabbing a step ladder, he positions it in front of the bin and sits in top to begin counting. He grabs his first box and pulls a part out, reading the number; he puts a check on his manifest. He does this with the rest of the parts in the box and put it back.\n\nHe repeats. Again. And again.\n\nHis eyes follow the bin to see the vastness of the boxes and shelves and countless boxes on the shelves.\n\nHe scratches his eyes as he drops the volume of papers down on the cluttered desk of his boss. Looking at small numbers endlessly has him exhausted and irritable. Just as he turns to walk out of the office the manager, Tim, walks in. Tim is in his late 60s and has been working in auto parts since he returned from Vietnam. He was in the NAVY. His stature is that of a man who at one time was very muscular. He has a barrel chest and large, veiny forearms. He also has white hair, which he combs over to hide his bald spot.\n\n\"Alright, bud, how'd it go?\" opens Tim.\n\n\"It went well, sir, just as well as it could, I guess.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know what you mean. But I know you did a good job. You're probably one of the hardest workers I have here.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir, I appreciate that. It's my job. That's all.\"\n\n\"You know, I've been thinking, Henry. I already got your raise approved. I wanted to talk to Al about promoting you.\"\n\nThe assistant manager, John, walks in the office. He is a short stocky man, looks Italian. He had been the top salesman before becoming the assistant manager. Still is. He has a certain cockiness about him. He is a gift to all and needs to be shown as such from his underlings. Henry, unfortunately to John, does not see it this way; this causes friction between the two. There may be some jealousy as well from John.\n\nTim continues, \"I can get you up on the front line working with John, and get you familiar working with customers and the system. Just so you know how to do more than just looking at numbers. I bet you see and say those numbers in your sleep.\"\n\nJohn looks at Henry and just shakes his head.\n\n\"Again, thank you, but I like where I am at right now. I have a routine and I think I do a good job. I am where I am and that is where I would like to stay. And quite frankly, I am not a people person. I am not a salesman.\"\n\nJohn snickers to himself and walks out.\n\n\"I mean that with no disrespect sir, but I have to politely decline.\"\n\nTim looks to the ground, disappointed, nodding his head in acceptance.\n\nAfter an uncomfortable silence, \"I understand you have an anniversary coming up? Your mother was a good woman. I still miss her.\"\n\nHenry looks down at his feet and slumps his shoulders.\n\n\"I know this is very late notice but is there any chance that I could have the day off tomorrow? It's going to be quite difficult.\"\n\nTim, turning and looking to his computer, mutters callously, \"Not a chance.\"\n\nHenry rubs his eyes, approaching a breakdown, and walks out.\n\nHe walks into the break room to clock out. He sees today's paper. He notices the main headline on the paper reads: 'Federal Probe Clears Wharton.' Captivated, he grabs, folds, and tucks it under his arm. Just as Henry turns to walk out, John cuts him off by intentionally bumping into him.\n\n\"Hey, what's that? What in the hell do you think you're doing? Are you stealing the newspaper again?\" John says angrily.\n\nHenry tries to push past John, but he keeps cutting him off at the door.\n\n\"Excuse me, please. I just want to go home,\" says Henry.\n\n\"No. Put the damn paper back! You can't just take the paper you little thief.\"\n\n\"It doesn't belong to anybody and it would just be thrown away anyways,\" says Henry as he quickly squeezes threw the door jam and John. \"I need it to sleep and I just want to go home!\"\n\nJohn lets out a bellowing laugh as Henry quickly walks away.\n\nOff work, he walks the streets illuminated by the moon and streetlamps shining through oxidized lenses. The steady wind is making the shadows of the trees dance like wild fire on the streets. Henry walks along the flames, reaching his house which is completely dark, absolutely no lights on at all. He goes down the exterior stairs to the outside of his door and sees a master lock on his door knob. He shakes it violently trying to open it. Not working. He kicks the door, still nothing. He walks over to his one window and it is boarded up. He circles around to the front of the house which has boards covering every window.\n\nHaving no other place to go, Henry finds himself in the parking lot of a homeless shelter. As he walks slowly to the door, a bus pulls in and parks by the front door. People pour out of the door, all homeless, coming home from their jobs. Henry is stunned. There are so many. All in hand-me-down rag donations for clothes.\n\nSome come back carrying signs on strings that they wear over themselves; just to let everyone know they are homeless. All the signs say the same thing: 'I am hungry and need food. Jesus loves you.' There also appears to be some scuffling by the front door. A raggedy looking woman is flailing her arms. She is wearing loose-fitted pants, a green Army jacket and has cameras and straps around her neck. Her sloppy, ratty, brillo pad brown hair is held up by a red bandana. She also has a book bag on as well. She is arguing with a big, black woman who is either security guard or supervisor. The black woman grabs a telephone from the front desk causing the raggedy woman to run towards the front door. She gets there as quick as she takes off and explodes out the door and runs by Henry, eyes big as saucers.\n\n\"We are calling the cops this time! We are calling the cops!\" shouts the black woman, madly punching numbers on the phone.\n\nHenry's eyes follow her. He turns away from the homeless shelter and looks up the street to his destination in the distance: the Quick Mart.\n\nAs custom with most convenience stores, there are steel security bars on the outside of the windows along with an ABC sign with 'ON' highlighted.\n\nAlready gathering outside are the local street urchins. Rising from the dark underbelly of the small, college town, the townies as they're called, all meet here for their misguided congregation. Addicts, dealers, hookers, and other embodiments of shame discuss their nightly plans.\n\nHenry feels their eyes upon him like bugs crawling on his skin. He quickens his walk to safely get inside the store, where he walks over to the milk freezer and picks up a gallon of whole milk. As he walks to the counter to pay, he notices someone looking at him through the food shelves. All he can see are eyes. No other features. He again tucks his head and walks to the counter, moving a little faster. He places the milk on the counter; he reaches for his wallet-\n\n\"Wait! I got it,\" shouts the wild, raggedy woman, who quickly runs to the counter with a small change wallet.\n\nHenry stares, confused at what is happening. Hope reaches in her wallet, puling out single dollar bills and some loose change. She pays the exact amount.\n\n\"Excuse me, but what are you doing?\" Henry asks, confused.\n\n\"Something bad is going to happen to you. I can feel it. In my bones. Those people outside are going to hurt you.\" she says, panting, wild eyed.\n\n\"And you're going to save me? Please, I am sorry, but I will take my chances. Thanks for the milk,\" he says lifting his milk and turning toward the door.\n\nShe runs in front of him cutting him off and putting her hands on his chest to stop his progress.\n\n\"I am serious! Please believe me. I am deathly serious. I know these people. These people are rougher than you're used to. You might think you know how bad this place is, but you don't know these people. These people are dangerous. I will protect you,\" she says speaking very fast.\n\nHenry has a hard time keeping up with what she is saying. He rubs his forehead. He is exhausted. He does not need a complete stranger standing in his way of trying to get some rest, even though he knows he wouldn't be getting that much needed rest anyways.\n\n\"Please, lady, I just want to go home. To my bed.\"\n\nShe stares at him unfazed.\n\n\"To sleep,\" says Henry as if she did not understand what he was talking about.\n\n\"But that is the thing though. You will not make it home, without me. Look, I know them. Just walk out with me and you will be just fine.\"\n\nHenry really has no choice. He does not care either way. If he makes it out and to his home that is fine. If not, that is just how it is supposed to be. He just nods and they walk out together.\n\nAs it turns out, the junkies are not just loitering for the sake of it. They are waiting for someone.\n\nHenry and the wild woman quickly walk past them along the sidewalk. Henry has his head down so he does not make eye contact. Not out of fear, but because he does not want to look at them and become nauseous by their filth. They hide along the side of the store, waiting to see where the junkies will be spending their night.\n\n\"Can you please explain to me what exactly we're doing?\" he asks quietly.\n\n\"Look, I am a photographer. I am working on a new self help book in which I take pictures of addicts as a way for them to see themselves for what they really are.\"\n\n\"What?! I thought they were going to kill me? And why do you need me? And why would a drug addict buy a book?\"\n\n\"I can't go alone again. And what else were you going to do tonight?\"\n\nHenry can only look at her, utterly confused\n\nA white Ford Mustang pulls up in front of the store. This is an old mustang, early 90s that is rusted at the bottom. The windows are black as midnight.\n\n\"There he is,\" she says, excited and rubbing her hands together.\n\nHenry looks on, still confused.\n\nThe crowd of human waste surrounds the car. There is no clear view of what is going on or what is being said. The people are franticly fighting their way to the windows as if they are baby birds getting food regurgitated from the mother.\n\n\"It never amazes me. He has so much power over these people. He is like God to them you know?\n\nShe grabs a camera from around her neck and starts snapping pictures.\n\n\"What do we do now?\" Henry asks.\n\n\"We wait. Once he pulls off, we follow the people.\"\n\nJust then, the car screeches and peels away, out into the darkness of the city. A patrol car rides along the road in front of the store, obviously having seen the car and the junkies, but does not follow or slow down to gather information from the crowd. A street light which was green quickly turns from yellow to red, causing the patrol car to turn is sirens on to go through the light. Once through the light, the siren turns off. The people form their separate groups and leave the scene chattering, all heading towards their drug dens.\n\n\"Are you ready?\" she continues.\n\nHenry shrugs his shoulders.\n\nThey begin to follow one crowd down a non-lit street. The filth on the street is incomprehensible. Henry sees trash piled on the sides of the road, like it was just pushed to the side by a brittle broom and just piling on top of itself.\n\nThe houses down this street either have boarded up windows or have cellophane covering them. Vines of dead, brown ivy have grown up the sides and the weeds are waist high. The wood fences are dry rotted and falling apart. The cars in the driveways have no wheels and are held up by cinder blocks. A few hoods are open as well.\n\nThe faint sound of police sirens fill the air along with that of ambulances and fire trucks forming an ambiance of the piercing sounds of accidents and emergencies.\n\n\"Here we are.\"\n\nThey stop in front of a white Cape Cod. The house is decorated with dead, scraggly bushes on both sides of the door. The grass is at least thigh high. The front yard is littered with needles, cigarette butts, beer cans and bottles. The smell is horrific; combination of all of the previously mentioned trash plus the garbage cans with decaying debris and oddments. Large metallic green flies buzz around the cans.\n\nThe woman stomps through the tall grass and waves her arm to Henry. \"We have to go along the side here.\"\n\nThe dogs, next door, start howling, barking, and jumping on the chain linked fence.\n\nThey come to an open door at the back of the house that was somehow left open. Once inside, the rooms appear smaller than they would seem from the outside. Henry is in the early stages of claustrophobia. The wall paper is peeling off the walls and there is a stench of death in the air.\n\nHenry keeps looking around, getting more nauseated. Cabinet doors are off hinges and empty. The counter tops are covered with dirt, grime and spoiled food. The sink is filled with dirty dishes and silverware, and the trash bag has been ripped and torn into by scavenging animals. Giant house centipedes spot the walls. A snake slithers by his foot.\n\nThe interior is lit only by candelabras and filled with shadows, making the macabre setting ever more mysterious and dangerous than it already is. Henry continues walking in to the living room area and sees the wild woman in the living room with three wastes of flesh, setting up her equipment for a photo shoot.\n\nThe first junkie looks like he was a war veteran; or just dressed like one. He is the oldest looking out of the bunch; grey hair, no teeth, lips and cheeks sucked into his mouth and his jaw has severe under bite and extends past his nose. He is wearing a red bandana and a camouflaged Army jacket with the sleeves cut off. At the end of the frayed sleeves are tattoo covered arms so blurred and wrinkled from age and decay that they are indecipherable. He also has no left leg and is sitting in a rusted out wheel chair.\n\nThe next junkie is passed out on the floor with his face buried underneath the couch. He is pale and bald. His clothes are covered in dried mud.\n\nThe last junkie is the most horrid. He is sitting on a worn out couch, skeletal. His skin is paper thin and greenish-grey His ultra stained white tank top looks large. Every bone from his shoulders to his chest is visible. His collar bones shoot from the top of his shoulders like knives. His face is even more disfigured. His eye balls are bulging out of his sockets, and his chest bones are almost cutting through his thin skin. Even his teeth are visible through the tops of his lips, and his tongue is swollen inside his mouth from the Devil's dry kiss. He also has a tunicate around his upper bicep. His arm looks like he has repeatedly stabbed himself with a black inked pen. A syringe is still in the nook of his elbow, and dried blood is spread throughout his forearm like spider webs.\n\nThe junkies are not moving AT ALL. They are stoned frozen, staring into oblivion. They do not even realize that others are even there. They look like they are arranged set pieces of the photo shot.\n\nThe wild raggedy woman has set up her tri pod and is steadily snapping picture after picture, obviously not affected by her surroundings..\n\nHenry's heart is about to burst through his rib cage. Sweating bullets, he doubles over and vomits on the floor. He turns and runs towards the bathroom. He pushes open the door but can't find a toilet. The room is filled with a thick, white smoke. He thinks he can hear what seem to be screams. They get louder and turn into a joyous chant. The white smoke begins to clear and on the floor, a man lying dead. Henry's vision blurs but he can make out that the man is bleeding profusely. The chanting gets louder and louder and it speckled with small explosions. Henry walks closer to the man rubbing his eyes to better view the mayhem. The man is wearing a grey suit and is bleeding from his abdomen. Just then he hears something from outside. It sounds like a wooden door slammed. Henry scurries out of the room and over to the back door where they came in and sees nothing. He goes back to the room he just came from, opens the door, and sees and hears nothing; just a hole in the floor where a toilet used to be.\n\nA car screeches loudly in front of the house.\n\n\"RUN! RUN! We have to get the hell out of here!\" screams the manic woman.\n\nShe grabs the spaghetti legged Henry by his shirt and heads out the back door. The front door is being kicked with the intention of breaking in.\n\nThey run to the side of the house and peer around to see who is there. A black Lincoln Continental is parked out front. No one is there so they sprint up the street. Henry looks back to see who was breaking in and sees a well dressed man in a black suit running out the front door. He is an older man with short gray hair and a big, pompous nose. They make eye contact. Henry freezes. She sees this and runs back to grab Henry.\n\n\"We can't stop now, let's go!\" she says panting.\n\nThey continue sprinting up the street and turn to cut through a heavily wooded forest, constantly running through thick spider webs that crack when they are torn. The tall pine trees are thin and swaying violently in every conceivable way, knocking into one another, only moments from snapping and falling to the earth. The other trees that have reached their fallen fate only serve as more obstacles. The branches. Which are wrapped with ivy and throns, look as if they are trying to grab and swallow them. The rain has made the ground soft and muddy, and with every step the entirety of one foot sinks into the ground.\n\nHenry is panting, exhausted. His legs are already weak from the visual sickness he has endured. Every step requires full body strength. Henry hears sirens again in the background and can see the vague blue lights racing through the air. He can see the strange woman flailing her arms in the air as she runs. Her hair is wild and wet.\n\nThey reach the end of the forest and come to a street with a lone abandoned office building. The wild woman, who was far ahead, walks into the front door of the building. Henry is struggling to take deep breathes. Sharp pains in his chest feel like stab wounds. He slowly walks towards the abandoned office building, not knowing what exactly lies behind that closed door.\n\nHe carefully walks through and sees emptiness. There is nothing in this building other than pillars, dust, stairs going directly into a wall, no door or opening at the top and another door on the first level left ajar with amber lighting shining through. He walks to the door slowly, placing his left hand on the door and cautiously pushes it open. She is hard at work at her work table, developing her newest pictures. The amber lighting protects the photographs from the damage of the visual spectrum. Henry walks around the room quietly, unnoticed. He looks at some photography hanging up to dry. He sees a woman lying next to train tracks, cut in half, entrails scattered across the ground. He walks closer to get a better look, reaching up, he grabs the photograph.\n\n\"No! Do not do that. You could sabotage my picture. It isn't done drying,\" the woman says furiously but carefully grabs the picture from Henry.\n\n\"Oh sorry. It is just an incredible picture. I wanted a closer look. What's the story behind it?\"\n\n\"I was walking home along the train tracks one day. And saw what I thought was a mannequin. Well, with blood,\" she begins to snicker. \"She apparently passed out drunk on the tracks and when the train came...split! Right in two! And I always have my cameras with me. Never know when something like that comes along.\n\n\"Incredible. I can think of a thousand places I would rather be if I were intoxicated than near train tracks.\"\n\n\"You know what I kept thinking though? I wondered if her conscious mind knew what happened after the fact Like when people were guillotined, executed, they would make faces or cry. Some smile. I wondered when that train cut her in half, could she look and see that she was cut in half. Did she feel it? If so what is that pain like?\"\n\nHenry's mouth drops. That is all she could think about? He thinks to himself 'What if this dead woman was a mother?' She surely had to be someone's daughter. 'How did her family feel?'\n\n\"I, I think shock sets in and takes over. I don't think she would feel anything,\" Henry says.\n\nShe shrugs her shoulders and turns back to her table developing pictures.\n\nHenry continues walking around the room looking at different photographs. He scratches at his head. He feels something crawling on him. His eye catches a frightening image. A picture already developed but still hanging.\n\nAgainst a black background is a white face with a clean shaved head. Eye sockets black, pupils are red; which is the only color in the picture. His eye balls are bulging out and wide, so much so it may have broken the orbital bones around them. The head itself looks like just a human skull, covered with a thin layer of flesh and black lips. The cheeks are and sharp. The photograph draws Henry in closer he cannot take his eyes off of it. He grabs it, it is magnetizing. His hands start to shake, he is starting to sweat, he -\n\n\"That one was taken at a viewing I had the privilege of attending. I think every picture I take involves some sort of pain really,\" she says interrupting the pictures hold over Henry.\n\nHenry drops the picture on the floor. The red eyes follow Henry on the way down. He slides it under the table with his foot. \"You don't say. What do you plan to title your book?\"\n\n\"Circle the Drain, Tears in Vein.\" But I spell vein like a vein for heroin. Do you like the word play? Whether it is physical or emotional, that is what I want to capture. My work will be able to help people see, really open their eyes. It'll be a mirror, but also a way to see your future. People can live their life differently if they see their own future.\"\n\nHenry continues to look around the dark room. \"Those people don't live for anything, especially a future that offers nothing. Life is just something to live through, not for.\"\n\nHe scratches at his head and arms, once more pulling away shards of thick spider web from his head.\n\n\"You are very lonely aren't you? I can see in your eyes you're in a lot of pain. \"\n\n\"Do you want to take my picture? Hey, who was that guy, at the house? I should've asked sooner.\"\n\n\"That was nobody,\" she quickly interrupts without even thinking.\n\n\"It had to be somebody. He was dressed a little too nice to be in such a dump like that. Do you know him?\"\n\nShe is working more frantically, getting more frustrated.\n\nHenry continues, \"You looked so scared. A normal person would have been more scared of the deathly-looking people on those nasty couches. I –\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it, alright!\" she yells high pitched and manically.\n\n\"Oh wow ok...\"\n\nThe woman drops everything she is doing rather abruptly. She starts flapping her wrists to fan her and tears begin to well in her eyes. She tears her jacket off, slings it on the ground and starts crying hysterically. She rips photographs off her drying racks and knocks over her equipment. Henry stands back in awe. She throws herself in the corner of the room and sits down with her head in her hands between her knees. Henry slowly walks over in an attempt to consol her.\n\n\"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to pry.\"\n\nHenry is creeping closer to her, cautiously. A violent outburst could happen again at any minute, as the wild woman is crying uncontrollably.\n\n\"You just don't understand what I have been through. All ever wanted to do was to just have a normal life, like everyone else.\"\n\nShe wipes away some more tears and uses the bottom of her shirt to wipe her runny nose.\n\nHenry squats down beside her. He is now at her level.\n\n\"Do you want to hear a story?\"\n\n\"As long as it doesn't involve vampires or werewolves sure.\"\n\nShe clutches her hands together and looks towards the unlit ceiling.\"It was Christmas and I was thirteen years old. I had just set up my new vanity I got. It was white wicker with and overlarge mirror. We were going to attend a party at City Hall. I didn't want to go for obvious reasons, but my father thought it was important that we make an appearance. We got all dressed up. I used my vanity. The ride there was ironically tense. My father kept looking to my mother, who was silently weeping, and telling her that everything would be alright. She never looked back at him. I was so confused but all I could keep looking at was the first snow falling into the windshield. Once we got there my father grabbed me tightly and held me close. I could feel his hands squeezing my shoulders and his body tensing up. The dance hall was large and beautiful. Everyone was wearing black and white and dancing on the black white tile floor. There wasn't the first table or chair anywhere. My mother was still crying, but wiping all her tears away with her kerchief. He lead me over to the bar where he ordered himself an Amaretto sour and my mother a vodka and cranberry. He was telling me over and over again how much he loved me which made me both happy but nervous. Instead of going back and finding my mother, who disappeared, he led me down a long hallway with one door at the very end straight ahead. There were no pictures on the wall or anything. Just white, like a hospital. At the door we stopped and one final time he said, 'you know how much l love you right'? I said quietly, 'yes I do father.' he opened the door and guided me inside. It was dark. Once the door shut I stood there for a moment confused. Then the light came on. There a bunch of dressed up uniformed police officers. Hats, mirrored glasses and shirts with badges on them. They didn't have any pants on, but had long black socks and black boots. They were all holding hands. I was drawn to the center of the room where an incredibly fat man sat on the ground like a dog. He was wearing a cowboy hat, bolo tie, a gold watch and white underpants. Nothing else. He wasn't looking up at me. I stared for a moment, and then I realized the circling cops were inching closer and closer and closer, moving me inward to the center of the room until I stand next to the fat cowboy. Finally he slowly rose, but not like a normal person. His stomach was so big that his legs needed to be placed wider and he slumbered up with a labored grunt. He bumped me with his belly. His skin was so pasty and white but his forearms, neck and face were tan. He took his tooth pick out of his mouth and said to me, 'you ever rode a stud?' I didn't understand what that meant but the circling cops were steadily moving even closer until I was stomach to stomach with him. I looked in their glasses and saw myself. They didn't smile or have any emotion. I stared at each and every one of them and saw myself. After that I could never look in my white, wicker vanity the same way.\"\n\nHenry has sat down on the floor, weakened.\n\n\"So I ran, and I loved and hated what I saw. There were no emotions. No love, pain, suffering. Just death. I found death in that moment. In the reflection of the protectors' eyes I saw my own death.\"\n\nHenry is heart-broken and slightly bewildered. He contemplates putting a hand on her shoulder. He reaches slowly over, fidgeting along the way until it finally lands.\n\nShe relaxes her shoulders and is somewhat at ease, feeling better that she has connected with someone. Her volcanic explosion has released some of her dormant demons.\n\nWell I think you are just fine doing what ever you want. You don't seem to be hurting anyone. But until you confront him you will never truly be free. Running away is not revolting.\"\n\nHope is lost.\n\nHe continues, \"I think I am going to the restroom. I am still a little ill from earlier. And from what you just told me.\"\n\nHe is stunned with how dirty and squalid the bathroom is. The sink is a stand alone sink mounted against the wall. The knobs are broken off and the drain pipes are broken before they reach the ground. They are also rusted through. The color of the sink used to be white, but the layers of dirt and grime permanently changed the color to brown. The toilet was beyond unusable. There was no seat and no water in the bowl. It was the same color as the sink. Dirt and dust explode off the floor with each of Henry's steps. Wood planks were also on the floor with rusty, tetanus covered nails on each side of them.\n\nHe walks over to the mirror and tries to pull himself together. The mirror is broken so he can see inside the medicine cabinet. He opens the cabinet and sees burned, metal spoons, a black case and a cloudy plastic bag with the remnants of white powder inside.\n\nHenry slowly unzips the black bag and sees her refuge; a contaminated syringe. He puts everything back into the cabinet and shuts the mirror. A reflection in the mirror is of the beaten and bruised man. The face is beaten beyond recognition. His eyes are blacken and swollen. The left side of his face is another swollen mess. The left eye may be lost for good. Blood is dripping from the cuts around the mouth and eyes. Henry walks backward out of the bathroom; the reflection remains unchanged and unmoved.\n\nHe walks back in the dark room; the wild and now fragile woman is frantically looking for something. She is knocking over containers, equipment and pictures. She tears through her cabinets and drawers until she finally finds what she is looking for: a small razor blade. She rolls up her sleeve which is adorned with other small cuts and scars, most on her forearms. They vary in length, some small, maybe and inch or two. Others could be upwards of six inches long. The worst of all is the one from the palm of her hand to the middle of her forearm. She puts the blade against her skin. She presses the blade into her arm. Blood trickles out. She relaxes. Henry, who was unnoticed, runs over and grabs the blade, tosses it aside and grabs her arm forcefully.\n\n\"What are you doing? What are those?\"\n\n\"They're cuts and scrapes, what do they look like?\"\n\n\"Did you do all of this to yourself?\"\n\n\"It is the only pain in my life that I can control,\" she insanely giggles.\n\nShe crosses her arm to cover the scars and looks away from Henry.\n\nHenry rises and is slightly alarmed. Her struggle towards freedom is not only a physical one but she still struggles with emotional freedom.\n\nShe doesn't acknowledge him. She starts rocking back and forth mumbling to herself and shaking.\n\n\"I think it might be best if you at least try to get some help. I know someone you can talk to.\"\n\nShe raises her head; eyes are gigantic and turning red with anger.\n\n\"I can't imagine it being any worse than where you are or where you're going to end up,\" he says softly and carefully as if his words were walking on thin ice.\n\n\"Excuse me! Who are you to tell me what is best for me? Are you kidding me?\"\n\n\"If you're mind isn't even free how do you expect to be free at all?\"\n\n\"Get out!!\"\n\nShe grabs her camera and heaves it across the room at Henry, connecting with the left side of his face right by his eye, opening him up. She starts terrorizing her work space. She starts knocking over her equipment and ripping up her pictures. Her screams are blood curdling.\n\nHenry, who was briefly knocked out, awakens and is now semi conscious on the ground, lying in a pool of his own blood. He tries getting up, using the table as a means to lift him. He struggles back to his feet and he sees a photograph he passed over. It is of him; by his mother's grave. Paper clipped to that picture is of another woman lying dead on the floor. She is dressed in nice clothes that are assembled poorly. Her hair is a scattered mess and covering her face. Her shoes are missing and there is a gun beside her head, which is missing its entire back half. He raises, picture in hand, utterly confused.\n\n\"What is this? Have you been following me? Was I going to be a part of your book? You just wanted to use me! Who is this woman?\"\n\n\"STOP IT, PLEASE STOP IT!\" she screeches.\n\n\"This is so wrong and so disgusting. I cannot believe this! You know what; this is never going to work, your idea. You can't induce a personal apocalypse on people and be a hypocrite at the same time. You are no better than the people you try to help. And you want to help save, show them their future? What about yours? There is nothing you can do for those who don't want change. You of all people should know. Maybe instead of trying to change others change the world of the drug addict's, maybe you should start by changing yourself. There is no future for them, for you, for me. Wake up!\"\n\nThe woman lets out another screeching scream. \"OH MY GOD! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE! YOU ARE HURTING ME MORE THAN ANYTHING BEFORE! PLEASE GO! STOP IT! GET OUT! LEAVE ME ALONE!\"\n\nShe throws her tri pod towards Henry who finally runs out of the dark room, through the empty and dusty corridor and back outside.\n\nHenry walks quickly out of the building and down the sidewalk, blood dried to his head, side of his face, and also covering the front of his shirt.\n\nThere's a junkie sitting on the ground along side the building. He looks like an out of work rock and roller. He has short, black hair that is like spikes and chains around his neck. His tight, black leather pants are littered with holes. Upon further examination, he looks more like a cliché. He is completely out of it, catatonic, although he has a one hundred dollar bill tuckered into his front pant pocket.\n\nHenry merely steps over top of him without the junkie even flinching. He walks down the street and finally looks back towards the abandoned office building. The junkie is gone.\n\nHe looks around; infinitely confused. There are other buildings around, apartment buildings, with lights on the inside. He sees a shadowy silhouette staring at him through one of the windows. Henry quickly turns and walks down the road back towards the darkness of the city.\n\nV\n\nHenry can't sleep. His stomach is knots and his face and head are swollen. He lies in bed on his side staring at the clock, waiting for the alarm to ring true. Hopefully once that alarm goes off his day will start just as the others and provide a renewed sense of familiarity. He inhales deeply, closes his eyes and when he begins to slowly exhale the walls begin to rumble and shake violently. The plastic crate night stand falls over, clock radio also. Henry jumps out of bed confused. He cannot regain his footing and is stumbling around his room. The floor is flowing and bending as if it were water. He hears something crash in another room in the house, maybe and old picture frame. He cannot gather his footing and falls over onto the floor crawling helplessly towards his the door.\n\nAs quickly as the quake happens, it ends. He grabs his clock radio, still on the ground; it shows no time. Henry is panicking. He rushes to the shower; he turns the knob but no water. He runs towards his sink; no water from the sink either. He cannot shower or brush his teeth. As he attempts to run through his bathroom doorway, he steps on something which pops like a blown light pulp. He looks down to the ground and sees the mirror to the medicine cabinet has fallen to the floor. Blood starts running from the bottom of his foot. He grabs a large band aid from the cabinet and tries his best to cover the wound. Finally able to leave, he runs in front of his closet and blindly yanks his work clothes out.\n\nThe talk radio show turns back on somehow with breaking news surrounded by static and white noise,\" we have just received word from Sheriff Wharton that a body has been found and was taken to the hospital where this person was pronounced dead on arrival. The body has since been transported to the coroner's office for identification. The investigation is still ongoing but it is believed to be an apparent homicide. This is a developing story and we will have more for you later when we get more information. But let me repeat a body of a young female has been found.\"\n\nHenry finishes getting ready for work and grabs his keys. The radio is now suffering from complete signal loss. A massive storm has arrived with torrential rains colliding into the home like bodies and strong, whistling winds. He runs across the room to turn his radio off then proceeds toward the door. He does not even have a jacket on.\n\nThe sky is dark grey and purple from a thick cloud cover. The down pour continues with rain drops the size of large marbles. Not only that but it is cold, so much so that when Henry exhales it looks like he could breathe fire.\n\nHe looks at his wall mounted mail box and notices a white envelope partially sticking out. He grabs it. The letter is not sealed, stamped nor addressed. There's something inside. Henry pulls it out. It is a cut out portion of a newspaper article. The headline reads:\n\n'PARANOID SCHIZOPHRENIC MOTHER KILLS SELF IN HOTEL ROOM WITH YOUNG CHILD WAITING AT HOME'\n\nHenry begins to read the article aloud, \"After a 5 hour hostage situation authorities finally detained the couple were spotted stealing drugs from a local college dormitory.\" He skips ahead in the article because the names in have deliberately blacked out. \"During interrogation the male was sweating profusely, stammering and slurring his words and was talking nonsensical gibberish. Prominent interrogator Detective Pash asked the young man if he was alright and he answered that he had been smoking and shooting heroin for two hours prior to the police arrival.\" he skips ahead to the last paragraph of the article and reads, \"the woman at the scene was an older woman, a mother, and had died of a self inflicted gun shot wound to the head.\"\n\nHenry, confused, angrily crumples up the article without reading another word and discards it on the ground. The crumbled paper floats along the water following him as he runs up the stairs.\n\nHenry sloshes his way down the same streets as he does every morning onward to the cemetery, pushing open the creaky gate and following the path that leads to where the grave of his deceased mother lies. He is being pelted by the rain drops and now hail which are falling much faster and harder. He is unfazed.\n\nHe hears a camera clicking and popping. He snaps his head around the graveyard, sees nothing. All he sees are endless headstones, small scraggly bushes and trees being pushed astray by the gale force winds. The winds are lifting his wet hair from his head. While bringing his head back around he sees the statue of the bereaved angel. Her head has been taken off, not by the strong winds, but by a vandal; evident by the pulverized stone that used to be her head.\n\nHe refocuses his attention back to his mother's headstone, when he hears it again. He angrily turns, clinching his teeth and starts the hunt for the photographer, knowing it is probably crazed woman from the night before who left the throbbing, swollen mass on his head. He stomps through the graveyard, surveying his surroundings. The ground is loose so he cannot keep his footing very well. He looks behind the bushes and up trees. He still cannot see much beyond the dense fog which is finally starting to rise. He begins to wonder if the spirits of the dead are merely playing tricks on his fragile mind, this being a somber day. He frustratingly ends his search and leaves the graveyard in disappointment, built upon a foundation of sadness. He passes through the creaky cemetery gate and onto the street.\n\nThe wind is blowing the pouring rain side ways. The dense fog remains as well and visibility is only about three feet. Henry doesn't even have a jacket on. He hears something in the distance other than the rain. A voice. He cannot see who it is coming from but it seems to be getting closer and closer. Louder and louder, but he still can't make out what exactly is being said or who is saying it. Just then a violent collision sends Henry on his back on the side walk. The back of his head bounces off the concrete. He slowly raises when another black shadowy figure hits him again in the back and disappears into the fog. While dazed another shadowy figure rams into him, then another. More and more heavy impacts send him spinning and falling listlessly to the wet concrete. Finally, they all completely disappear into the dense fog before Henry can get a decent look at them.\n\nHenry starts to run down the street blinded in pain. Another massive, violent collision stops him. He cannot move. Henry is seized by two hands on his upper arms. Squeezing tightly. A dark face fades into his view. It is the drunk, psychotic Holy Roller. Reeking of gin, cigarettes and bad breath; he closes in on Henry, who is shocked, bringing his face in close to Henry's.\n\n\"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.\"\n\nHoly Roller has a sense about Henry. He can sense that there is no God in his life. This aggravates him. He clinches his teeth and squeezes Henrys' arms even tighter to where his grimy, untrimmed and germ infested finger nails dig into Henry's skin and blood begins to trickle down. He starts shaking Henry violently. Henry can only groan and struggle for deep breaths. He is unable fight himself free.\n\nHoly Roller brings his head even closer. They are nose to nose. He lowers his voice and speaks sternly and slowly. This a voice ravaged by years of alcohol and smoke.\n\n\"The people of the land have practiced extortion and committed robbery. They have oppressed the poor and needy, and have extorted from the sojourner without justice. He holds victory in store for the upright; he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones. Then you will understand what is right and just and fair—every good path. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you. Wisdom will save you from the ways of wicked men, from men whose words are perverse, who leave the straight paths to walk in dark ways, which delight in doing wrong and rejoice in the perverseness of evil, whose paths are crooked and who are devious in their ways. It will save you also from the adulteress, from the wayward wife with her seductive words, who has left the partner of her youth and ignored the covenant she made before God. For her house leads down to death and her paths to the spirits of the dead. None who go to her return or attain the paths of life. Thus you will walk in the ways of good men and keep to the paths of the righteous. For the upright will live in the land, and the blameless will remain in it.\"\n\nHenry finally breaks free by shoving the man with his foot and runs down the street as fast as he can.\n\nThe Holy Roller laughs at Henry and yells to him, \"Don't you be afraid, for I am with you. Don't be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. Yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness.\"\n\nHe runs through the downtown streets, passing the train station, the old paper factory and finally makes it to Al's Used Auto Parts. Once in the parking lot he slows down, panting as he walks with his head down and hands in his pockets, he is rattled and at his wits end. He brings his head up and sees two men in black uniforms and black sunglasses leaving the front door of the shop. They both stare down him as they walk towards their car. They keep their gaze on him throughout their walk to the car and while they are in the car.\n\nHenry arrives at the back 'Employees Only' door staring at the car in bewilderment. He opens the door and walks to his desk. He is late. Of course Maxwell hasn't arrived either. To his surprise, his desk is empty. There is no Encyclopedia of parts inventories on his desk or any form of transaction sheets. He sluggishly lowers himself down into his chair to rest just for a second. Maybe work can be his sanctuary. Henry throws his head back and inhales deeply. Before he can exhale a voice comes over the intercom, \"Henry to the office, please. Henry could you please come to the office.\"\n\nHenry remains seated just for a minute. He just can not get a moments peace. He eventually gets up and walks by the window to the office and stops to look in before he enters. Tim is sitting at his desk with papers scattered everywhere. His head is in his hands. He takes his head out of his hands to rubs his forehead and eyes raw. John is standing behind him leaning against the wall with a cup of coffee, looking sadly down at Tim and his desk. John is also shaking his head and talking to Tim, who doesn't seem to be listening.\n\nHenry walks nervous because Tim looks absolutely distraught. John, however, looks like he has accomplished something. His new confidence makes Henry even more nervous. Henry rubs his sweaty palms together and looks down at the ground.\n\n\"John, you're going to have to excuse us for a moment,\" says a Tim solemnly.\n\nJohn walks towards the door, not taking one eye off of Henry.\n\n\"You wanted to see me, sir?\"\n\n\"We have a problem, Henry, we have a big problem. These inventory reports you have been doing are not matching up. There are too many variations.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. I can't be wrong. I know what I am doing.\"\n\n\"We are getting audited. That is what you need to understand. Somehow, someway you haven't been doing your job. \"\n\n\"That is not true. I do my job well. I have been doing this for a long time and there has never been a problem.\"\n\n\"Well there's a problem now, a big problem. Al doesn't like to see that there is any chance that he is losing money. And when these reports don't match up with what comes in and what goes out, he assumes he is losing money. He actually thinks someone is stealing from him. And John tells me you go into the break room and steal the newspaper every evening. So he has an auditor coming to look at the books and look at our inventory. This is all on you.\" He sighs and sits back into his chair with his arms raised and clutches each behind his head. He continues, \"I understand things get hard on you this time of year. Personally I know. Al doesn't want to hear excuses however, not from me or you.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I guess I haven't been seeing things clearly lately.\"\n\nTim rises in his chair. His face goes pale. His stomach is starting to turn and he goes cold.\n\n\"Al wants you gone, Henry. I have the last of you pay checks here.\"\n\n\"I am beyond words. This is coming out of nowhere. I just hope you know how hard I have worked for you. I have never caused you problems. I am never late, and I have always been reliable and dependable. Other than that, I have no idea what is going on. I have no idea.\"\n\nTim hands over an envelope which Henry reaches for and grabs. Henry gets up, and walks towards the door.\n\n\"What happened to your face Henry?\" Tim yells trying to reach him before he leaves.\n\n\"I fell during the earthquake.\"\n\nTim looks down to the ground and shakes his head.\n\nHenry immediately walks into the break room and picks up today's paper again and tucks it under his arm. The television is on and there is a press conference taking place outside of Radcliffe City Hall. The man at the podium is eerily familiar. He is Sheriff Wharton, smirking, chewing on a toothpick with his turkey neck swinging below his chin. His large cowboy hat is shielding his eyes.\n\n\"This morning I was awaken by one of my deputies to arrive a particular crime scene. Upon arrival we noticed a beaten body of a young woman. This was a woman full of intellect, adventure, and ambition. A sweet woman who bled the colors of our flag. Unfortunately, I knew this woman. I knew her real well. The hardest thing I had to do was pick up the telephone and call this young lady's folks. That, my friends, is a phone call I never want to make. I am sure that it will take a life time to get over the pain from losing something you created. Her life was taken from her too soon. However, we are encouraged. The Radcliffe Police Department did not and absolutely does not rest. We work hard to make this the safest damn city in this here country. Our meticulously detailed investigation is almost wrapped up. As a matter of fact we plan to make an arrest this evening on the suspect. This clearly eases no pain or brings this beautiful lady back. But-\"\n\nA sharp ringing commences in Henrys' ears. He is able to see the televised press conference but cannot hear it. The mouths continue to move. His body goes numb and his legs give out. He stumbles into a chair at the table where he picked up the paper. He clutches his chest and is gasping for air and having a hard time catching his breath. He grinds his teeth, closes his eyes and frantically gets up runs out off the break room.\n\nHenry, panicking, sits back down at his desk, picks up the phone and dials numbers faster than he ever has before. The phone rings twice and goes to an automated voice message system, \"Hello Mr. Hoffer how are you? I have been better. Look, I know I am not supposed to see you for another couple days but I really need to talk to you. These past few days have weird and different and I just need someone to talk to about it.\"\n\nOut of the corner of Henry's eye, he sees Maxwell arriving late as always. And as usual he immediately switches on the old radio to his favorite classic rock station, but it is all static.\n\nHenry continues, \"Fit me in anywhere. Now later whichever, I hope you have time but I just need to talk to you. So much has gone on this morning. It has nothing to do with the accident or the significance of today, but then again I can't be sure. I guess I can't be sure of much right now.\"\n\nMaxwell continues turning the tuning knob but to no avail. The static seems to be growing louder and louder. The white noise has returned and so have the mysterious voices. A high pitched 'rise' is said repeatedly. The static has taken on a life of its own and now seems to be attacking and taunting Henry. It slithers into his ears and into his brain. His heart starts to thump rapidly inside his chest. His blood is boiling and irrational thought are being considered. Finally another vocalization is heard; a guttural growl, 'FALL.'\n\nMaxwell is absent minded and unconcerned.\n\nHenry slams the phone on his desk and walks over to Maxwell and his radio with a vengeance.\n\n\"Hey man, I was getting ready to ask you for help with this old piece of...\" Maxwell is interrupted as Henry seizes the radio and picks it up over his head and smashes it to smithereens on the concrete floor. He grabs his computer from his desk and throws it on top of the radio. A black heavy torsion bar is leaning up against the wall, which Henry grabs. He swings it at the pile of broken old technology and shatters it all to pieces, constantly swinging and swinging.\n\nMaxwell stares for a moment in awe then finally runs to the front of the shop in absolute terror.\n\nHenry continues slamming the bar into the ground and begins screaming loudly. Sweat is pouring from his head. He yells and screams with each swing. Finally after a few more minutes of trying to smash each piece of plastic into a fine powder, he stops. He looks down at his mess and for once he has released some form of tension. He merely drops the bar to the ground and the clanging echoes of the walls of the shop. He stares up to the ceiling where there are large cracked windows, slowly dripping water onto the floor. He lets some of the drops fall on him before he turns and walks out of the door.\n\nHenry is sitting alone waiting for Mr. Hoffer.\n\nThe office has completely changed. The room is much smaller. The walls seemed to have closed in. Henry can sit in the old, rusted steel chair, extend his arms from his side and touch the walls with the palms of his hands. They are also empty. Gone are the shelves of medical books and journals. There isn't even any wear on the walls as if they were there in the first place. The only wear on the walls seem to be structurally. There are cracks running from the ceiling to floor. The wallpaper looks like it has been peeled off, but not all the way as some pieces are still hanging. There are also holes in the wall revealing the studs behind the dry wall. The studs look as though they have been feasted on by generations of termites\n\nThe rain is pounding against the roof of the office causing it to leak and form puddles on the floor, creating a mixture of upswept dirt and water.\n\nMr. Hoffer bursts through the door looking flustered and haggard. His hair is not wet from the rain, but greasy as if he hasn't kept up with himself. The water must have just slipped right off after it couldn't be absorbed. He is panting and anxious. His clothes are filthy. He looks as if he has been sleeping outside in the mud.\n\nThe lights begins flickering on and off like a strobe light.\n\n\"Ok Henry, let's go. How can I be of service to you?\"\n\n\"Well, it just seems like a lot of strange stuff is happening to me. I would hate to think it has any meaning, but I do. It is all too coincidental...\"\n\n\"...to your mother's death?\" Mr. Hoffer interrupts.\n\n\"I don't know. That's the problem. I just have this feeling like I'm being watched and targeted. Like at any moment something really bad is going to happen to me. I don't think at this moment my mind is in sanity. This paranoia is becoming reality to me.\"\n\n\"Of course it is. None of our minds are completely sane. You are not alone or special. And it will only get worse. There is a lot of change on the horizon. Your life will change, forever, everything that you have become accustomed, forever being different, it will be painful. You will have to adjust. And then something else will happen and you will have to repeat over and over again. Everything is the same but different. When you try and keep the status quo you will be swallowed up by those who induce the revolution.\"\n\nRevolution?\n\nMr. Hoffer is getting excited and his nerves make him wiggle and fidget in his rusty metal chair.\n\n\"Yes, yes, Henry! The revolution! The personal apocalypse! The change of us all. When it all happens where do you think you will be? In your dumpy little shack? One day you are going to be inside that place when they board it up. Never to see the light, never to see the new world around you, is this how it is going to be? \"\n\n\"I really think I just need rest. Sleep may help. I can just fall back asleep and sleep through it all. \"\n\n\"Leave the sleeping for the dead,\" Mr. Hoffer says in a deep, guttural voice. \"The rain will stop and the storms will pass. The streets will be as clean as our conscious. The trees will bloom the most beautiful leaves. The sun will shine brighter than it ever has a blinding light but not a burning light. \"\n\nMr. Hoffer is now standing looking towards the water damaged ceiling. The lights are still flickering.\n\n\"I do not know how much more of this I can take. I have come so accustomed to the way I live my life. I have become tolerant of the misguided hopes of the people here. This place is too absurd for hope.\"\n\nHis face begins to throb and pulsated again. Blood slowly trickles down his face causing Mr. Hoffer so divert his attention from the ceiling to the red. He is transfixed and slightly turned on.\n\n\"Everything in my life was neither good nor bad,\" Henry continues. \"It was managed and dictated by me. No one else. Not anymore. My life is being managed and dictated someone or something else and I am in now in a place where I am being pushed and pulled in directions I have never thought existed. It's like my endings have no beginnings. I just need rest. I don't think I have truly slept in weeks. Maybe my mind is torturing me. I think that is what it is. My mind is deprived. It is starving. I'm so tired.\"\n\n\"Everything will be as it needs to be,\" says Mr. Hoffer who is staring at the blood intensely.\n\n\"Or maybe everything I do and say is really meaningless?\"\n\n\"No, Henry. You have a meaning. Your life has a meaning. It may not be meaningful to you, but it is to someone else. Justice has a meaning and a reason. We are in a time where justice's meaning may be twisted and manipulated to accommodate those who have the power to use it.\"\n\n\"Are you talking about the girl who died?\"\n\n\"She will be used as the symbol for them. A means to let the people know that the change is for the good, a means let the city know that good will outweigh evil. It will be a means to let the city sleep with their doors unlocked having been blessed by the venom of bliss. The black sunshine will rise, Henry. The reign will rise to unprecedented heights. You will not see them. It is far from your comprehension. The abuse and illusions will be the result of the high which we all look for and will continue to chase to no avail. The madmen will be wiser then the wise men, for the wise men have been banished into death's graces clutched in the frozen pit of the ninth circle. Their morals gnawed on by blunt teeth that can't tear. But to the madman what are morals? And what of hope? Hope and morals lay on the wings of and insect that aimlessly flies around the spider whose web was spun with webs laced with injustice and failure. Once trapped, ambition is lost and freedom comes from death's release. Hope has been extinguished by the man who created her. He sat atop her and silenced her demons. Now rest.\n\n\"What if the men or spiders as you call them, who bring this change, are evil?\n\n\"You and I both know where this is headed. There is not the need to waste breath or energy on something as pointless and nonexistent as hope should be. The spiders will look for those on the fringe. The people who can easily be disposed of will be the guilty and subsequently persecuted. I think that will be all for today Henry. I hope I helped. If I were you, run. Sleep will do us no good right now. \"\n\nMr. Hoffer runs out of the door, leaving Henry by himself in the small room. The lights are still flickering.\n\nHenry finds himself sitting in a clean room sitting at a small table across from an older, bearded man in a white sleepwear. Henry doesn't quite know how he got to where he is at, but somehow feels an ironic sense of comfort.\n\n\"This doesn't make since,\" Henry mumbles.\n\n\"It's complicated,\" says the old man trying to comfort Henry.\n\n\"How did this happen?\"\n\n\"He'll be fine Henry, don't worry,\" says the nurse who is knitting but otherwise not paying much attention.\n\n\"Can I get a minute with my dad alone?\" asks Henry\n\n\"Yeah sure, just try and make it quick. The doctors don't like being held up,\" says the stuck up nurse.\n\nHenry turns and looks at the nurse with disgust. The nurse turns to leave Henry alone with his father.\n\n\"I need to tell you something, Dad. And I was hoping that you would tell me something also. Honestly. Man to man.\"\n\n\"What's that? You look worse than I do. Is everything ok?\"\n\n\"No Dad. No. This is hard for me because I know how much you want to see me do well and succeed and all, but I don't think Radcliffe is a place I can do that. Like you said, I look like a freak, and I feel different. I think I have found myself in some trouble. And I don't know how, but I just want to get out of this place.\n\n\"You're just saying that because I'm in a hospital.\"\n\n\"No dad, this is something that's been on my mind. I'm so lonely here. There's nothing here for me. I've become something I want no part of. I see things I want no part of. And it's hard for me to see you being so far from home. You're here with all these things constantly hooked up to your head and monitoring everything and I'm hundreds of miles away. I miss someone being home. I miss the bed I sleep in. I miss the smell of our house. I miss mom freaking out when the dishes aren't done or when she gets off of work and there's laundry everywhere and she complains about how she's the only one who does anything around the house. don't you remember those days? I miss everything. Don't you?\"\n\nTears flow from both of them.\n\n\"Sometimes, I miss those days, too. Unfortunately those days are why I am here and you are there. All we wanted was what is best for you. And if deep down you know that you need to leave, and then leave. I'm behind you one hundred percent.\"\n\n\"I know dad. I know.\"\n\n\"Can you give it until the end of the semester? Just take care of that, find out where you want to go and I'll help you.\"\n\n\"Thanks dad. Wait. Semester? I don't go to school Dad.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Look I know you may have a hard time talking about this although I'm sure you talked about it with someone and had it run through your head a million times, but I gave to know. I got this newspaper article in the mail this morning unmarked.\"\n\n\"That's tampering with a mail box! That's a federal crime!\"\n\n\"Yeah I know Dad, but that's not the point. It was the article itself. About a woman who shot herself in a motel with a college student. It is eerie that I got this letter on the anniversary that you say you found Mom dead.\"\n\n\"Strange day indeed. Rather peculiar.\"\n\n\"How did she really die?\"\n\n\"Did you read the entire article?\"\n\n\"Not all. The names were blacked out.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Henry's dad takes a deep breath and sits back down on his bed shaking his head. \"She was always full of dreams which changed everyday. But she never pursued her dreams. What's the point of having them if you fail to act upon them? Well she met someone, someone who said they could fulfill her desires, really open her mind up creatively and to new possibilities. Then everything took a turn for the worse. I never saw her anymore. She wasn't the same woman after that. She would leave and be gone for days and I would be relieved. When I found out that she literary opened her mind of with the revolver, I was happy for the first time. I was sick of caring due to caring so much it made me sick. A widower can't be happy after the death of his wife. However I couldn't say that to a young boy whose mother abandoned him and his existence. Everything I did was to protect you.\"\n\nTwo nurses walk into the room, \"Time for your prep,\" says the plump nurse who walks slowly from arthritis. The plump nurse is the muscle of the team and grabs Henry's dad by the shoulders, holding him still while he sits up. The other nurse pulls his long hair and starts slicing it off with a knife, yanking his head in a different directions in a quick, jerky fashion. Henry's dad merely sits there looking up through a lowered brow and with an empty and absent minded look upon his face.\n\n\"If we could afford razors this would be some much easier and quicker,\" the slicing nurse says with a laugh, causing the other to laugh as well.\n\nHenry sits and watches as they slowly slice his dad's hair with a blunt knife. More hair comes out from the pulling and grabbing than with blunt knife causing blood to slowly begin trickling down, which the plump nurse wipes with an old, torn rag.\n\nBlotches of hair still remain and decorate the cut and torn skull of his dad as they slowly lay him down on his bed and position him comfortably. The plump nurse stuffs a used mouth piece in his mouth, \"this will keep your tongue in place,\" she chuckles. They engage the wheels on the bed and begin to push him out towards the hallway as Henry helplessly watches, still sitting.\n\nHenry is walking towards his house, hoping to get some peace of mind, even for a moment. Peace of mind is hard to come by when walking the streets with water up to your ankles and rain still pounding. The murky water is slowly being gargled up by the sewers and vents.\n\nCold, black clouds darken the skies above. No stars can be seen and darkness covers the light from the moon. The only light on the street are the old, flickering streets lights and the occasional lightning strike\n\nIt is eerily quiet, especially for a college town. Not a soul is out. The fear of murder is lying like a tremulous blanket over the city.\n\nThe downtown strip malls on both sides of the street used to be a likely night spot. There was a bar, two tattoo shops, antique stores, a Latin food grocery, a Radcliffe grocery, a restaurant only serving chili burgers and hotdogs, an appliance store, a hardware store, a small one dollar cinema showing old films, the town locksmith and a pawn shop. Now the strip has been abandoned, looted and abandoned again. No signs remain of what would tell a newcomer what was there, every pane of glass has been shattered and the stores have been devoured by looters and left to emptiness. The trees on the sidewalk which used to be lush green and covered in string lights have fallen over into some of the shops.\n\nHenry comes to his house, built by the blind carpenter and walks down the stairs only to find the door bolted shut and wood over his windows. He angrily starts kicking the door, but to no avail. Lying on the ground next to the door is a hammer which was presumably used to board up the windows. He repeatedly strikes the lock, it still will not open. He walks to the window and uses the back end of the hammer to pry the wood off the siding. It works. The glass has already been shattered, so he slides through.\n\nThe darkness remains in the room. Nothing is visible. Henry blindly walks over to where his light switch is and flicks it on. No light. He keeps flicking it on off and gets the same results. No light.\n\nLightning FLASHES. As quickly as the flash, Henry sees a pale faced man in front of him. He throws Henry down to the ground. He pounces on top of him, sitting on his chest. Henry is struggling and trying to fight back. Blackness again. With every flash of lightning Henry sees the face. Pale. Thin. Unfazed. Unmoving. Eyes, bulging from their sockets. Lips dried and wrinkled. Nose; no existent. He has one hand under Henry's jaw pushing it upwards locking his teeth together. The other hand is pinching Henry nostrils like pliers. The intruder is cloaked in black. He looks like he is wearing an officers hat but Henry can't be sure. The lightning reflects off of what would be a badge in the center. He is seemingly as heavy as the Hell he crawled out from. All of Hell's weight is compressed and weighing down on Henry's chest. Henry begins to go limp. His flailing legs and swinging arms lose power and velocity and slow down. They drag. They stop. With that, the intruder slowly crawls away from Henry on his finger tips and toes like a lizard and bounds effortlessly out of the broken window unscathed.\n\nHenry regains his breath, but is panting. A surge of electricity hits. His bedroom light powers on. All of the furniture in the room is rearranged and ransacked. The plastic crate night stand is lying on the ground with the drawer thrown across the room. His small refrigerator is placed in the bathroom. The sheets from his bed are ripped off and the bed is tilted against the wall. His closet is opened and all of his closes are missing.\n\nAs Henry stands frozen he looks at the center of the floor and sees a set of photographs. They are of him at the graveyard this morning. All in different angles, close-ups of his face, the head stone are all indicative of more than one photographer. The last photograph however sends chills throughout his body. The hair on the back of his neck is standing. He feels as if someone has just punched him in the stomach after already being sick from eating something that gives him food poisoning. It is the pictures of him and the woman that were taken by Hope. He drops the pictures and they slowly flutter on their way down to the floor. Henry doubles over in pain, and on the floor he can see the scant reflection of blue lights coming in through the broken out window. He hears officers running on the ground outside.\n\n\"B and E, B and E. he is in there!\" shouts one officer who may be standing by the window that was already broken before Henry got there.\n\nThere is nowhere for Henry to run. They have formed a perimeter outside, but even still, his door has locked him in. He hears a loud banging on the door. They're trying to break in. Then finally the officers slide through the broken window, guns drawn.\n\n\"Down on the ground! Hands in the air and down on the ground! You aren't running anymore are you?\" shouts a bear of and officer.\n\nHenry does as he is told.\n\nThe front door finally gives way and splinters and disintegrates as the officers pour in as if they are a rising river breaking through a levy.\n\nAnother officer from behind Henry grabs him by the shirt, spins him around and SLAMS a worn out and defenseless Henry to the ground. His head bounces off the floor as if it were a rubber ball\n\nThis room is bare, old and gray. The only things in the room are a table and two chairs. Bulbs are blown on the lights overhead.\n\nHenry is sitting in one of the chairs by the table. The entire left side of his face is swollen, his eye is black and blood has filled his eye ball, making the whites of his eye red. He is unsettled and unsure. He blinks his eyes rapidly trying to adjust them. He stares at the observation window, finally knowing where he is. Now he can only imagine who or what is one the other side of the glass. He tries taking a deep breath, knowing he needs to exude confidence as a way of showing his innocence, however, through reading his paper, he knows that in small town justice you are guilty until proven innocent. Unfortunately, that deep breath does not come.\n\nThe door opens and a man in his mid 30s in a dress suit and badge around his belt walks into the room. He is a detective; Detective Pash. He is carrying a case file, a note pad and a small rotating fan, which he positions in front of himself.\n\n\"Hello Henry. How are you?\" says Detective Pash with a fake pleasant smile sliced on his face. He extends his hand toward Henry, which he shakes. \"Rough night? I am detective Pash, I am sure you have heard of me before.\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\n\"It has been a wild few hours hasn't it? You know, I didn't have a lot of friends growing up Henry. I was kind of a loner in a roundabout way. Would you say the same about yourself or do you have lots of friends?\"\n\n\"I don't have any friends. Any person my age that I may have been acquaintances with before is gone. Once they went to college and graduated, you never hear from them again. Nowadays people just annoy me. What does this have to with anything? Why am I here?\"\n\n\"Did you go to college?\"\n\n\"No sir. No college. I went to work right after high school.\"\n\n\"Man, I hate to say it but you missed out. College was the time of my life. But you know; I had always wanted to be a cop. My dad was a cop, his dad was a cop. I guess you can say I was born and bred for the badge. Was there anything you had dreams of doing?\"\n\n\"No. Not really. I would be content with whatever it was that I would be doing. One dreams as he lives and dies – alone. You stay with something so long, that is how you end up. I mean, it wasn't a given that you would become a detective. How disappointed would you be if you weren't one? Would you look at yourself as a failure? What about your dad? Grandfather?\"\n\nDetective Pash has had enough of the questions from Henry, but stays calm and ends the first stage of his interrogation.\n\n\"Tell me about the night that Hope died?\"\n\n\"Why am I here?\"\n\n\"You are here because I want to know about the young girl you killed, Henry.\"\n\nHenry is dumbfounded but knows that this is where he has to stay calm. Everything he does is going to be interpreted in a certain way not only by the interrogator, but the people on the other side of the glass. Every moment is studied including the direction his eyes move, his posture, if he's sweating, how much he moves or fidgets. They are all examining.\n\n\"I have never killed anybody.\"\n\n\"We know you were the last one to see her alive. We have your blood on the floor of her work space, a picture of you that she took. Her father saw you leaving a house after you tried scoring. We also know how that your mother passed away a few years back, on this day.\"\n\n\"Yes I was with her-\"\n\nDetective Pash brazenly interrupts, \"Yes I know you were. I just said that. This conversation is going to take twice as long if you just repeat everything I say.\"\n\n\"Not when she died. I don't even know how she died. They never said it in the papers or on news\".\n\n\"You are really not as clever as you think you are. How about you tell me why you did it?\"\n\n\"I did not do it!\" It did not take Henry long to get frustrated but he knows he has a long way to go. He unknowingly slouches in his chair.\n\nDetective Pash does the same. \"Henry, I just want you to know that I am trying to help you, so I would like for you to help me. We know you were there. Henry your blood is there. We know there was a struggle. I can see the dent in your head where you were hit by something. I just need you to tell me the truth. That is all Henry. It is really that easy. All you have to do is help my investigation which in turn will help you later. So let's start with the night. Tell me everything. \"\n\n\"I met her at a convenience store where she staring at me like a psycho and told me that the drug addicts outside were going to kill me. Then- \"\n\nDetective Pash interrupts again, \"Why would they want to kill you? Do they know you? Are you a person who frequents these gathering tribes of the morose?\"\n\n\"No. I don't know. She didn't say. Seemed strange.\"\n\nDetective Pash is taking notes from everything Henry says.\n\n\"But you followed anyways?\"\n\n\"Yeah. What else was I going to do? I quite frankly don't think it mattered either way if they had wanted to kill me or not. Then she took me to this house to take pictures of these other drug addicts for her book. Then this guy who was dressed up broke into the house so we ran to the building where she works. I saw drugs in her bathroom then I left. You know she had a terrible story to tell about her dad and the sheriff, have you talked to them?\"\n\nThere's a loud banging on the other side of the observation window followed by some muffled yelling.\n\n\"I'm asking the damn questions here, Henry. No one at this point is worried in the slightest bit about your opinion of other suspects in our investigation. You are not telling me everything, Henry. How did your blood find its way onto her floor?\"\n\n\"Look-\"\n\n\"Let me explain to you what it means to tell the truth. By telling some of the truth and not all, that is lying. You are hiding something. Now like I told you before. We need to help each other. That starts with honesty, and a little respect. Will you start being honest with me Henry? If you are going to continue to be a pad locked chest of information, I will be a hammer and bust you open.\"\n\nHenry knows what Detective Pash is doing so he takes a deep, labored and painful breath, knowing that not only he but everyone is taking notes on him.\n\n\"She told me she didn't want to go back with her dad because he was over bearing or over protective. I went to the bathroom because I didn't feel good and I saw drugs in the medicine cabinet. When I confronted her about this, she got mad and threw her camera at me.\"\n\n\"So that is where the blood came from? Why do I have a feeling she may have done that out of self defense.\"\n\n\"Yes. It came from the camera hitting me in the head and no, she had nothing to defend herself from.\"\n\n\"How did you come to asphyxiate her Henry? There was no sign of strangulation but some how she was asphyxiated.\"\n\n\"I don't-\"\n\n\"Where did you learn burking, Henry? The barbaric, militant method you used to kill Hope.\"\n\n\"I didn't kill anyone!\"\n\n\"Henry, please, work with me here. We both know how and where this is going to end. What I need you to do is just truthfully tell me what you did. Honestly I know why you did it and I know how. All I want is for you to tell me. I just need you tell open up and tell me everything.\"\n\n\"I can't tell you anything. I-\"\n\n\"Yes. You. Can! What are you trying to hide Henry? \"\n\nThe temperature is starting to rise in the room, making Henry sweat. He wipes the sweat from his face using his shirt.\n\nDetective Pash takes note.\n\n\"I am not trying to hide anything, I didn't do it. Can I have some cold milk please?\" He shakes the collar of his shirt to let some hot air out.\n\n\"I think you could ease a lot of the pain of her parents if you just told me you did it. That's a start. The pain of losing a loved one is such that has no equal. You should know this, Henry.\"\n\n\"What are you trying to say? The loss of my mother has absolutely nothing to do with this in any way shape or form. I did not do it. I did not do it!\n\n\"Henry I am not sorry when I say this but I think it has everything to do with this particular predicament.\"\n\nHenry's eyes grow. He now fully understands why the newspaper article was placed in his mail box. It was by the police department. He has been targeted from the on set. Henry leans forward in his chair, as does Detective Pash.\n\n\"Explain.\"\n\nHenry leans over, grimacing from pain. Detective Pash leans over as well. They are staring each other right in the eyes.\n\n\"You are the text book example of someone with mommy issues. The loss of your protector has been detrimental to your overall psyche. It manifested itself in Hope. You took out all of the anger you have for your mommy on Hope. You watched in enjoyment while Hope struggled for her life and took her last breath.\"\n\nHenry sits back in his chair, trying to relax. Detective Pash does the same.\n\nDetective Pash continues, \"You try to mask your pain with drug use. That is why you visited the drug house. Also explains the drugs found in the bathroom with your finger prints all over them. I do believe however that you got upset over the picture you saw of yourself by your mother's grave and that is why you attacked her. Those repressed feelings emerged in a blind and malicious rage.\" Detective Pash pauses to collect himself, and begins to speak with a more stern tone. \"She did her best to defend herself from you. She used the camera as a means to fight. The cuts on her arms show definite defense wounds-\"\n\n\"No wait-\" says Henry, interrupting.\n\nDetective Pash blasts out of his chair like a rocket and nearly comes across the table. \"You had you turn to talk Henry! This is my time!\"\n\nHenry sits stunned.\n\nDetective Pash gets back into his seat and calms down. He adjusts his dress coat and loosens his tie. \"You did your absolute best to make this look like an accident, like this is just another overdose by another no name drug addict. Like I said before, you are not that clever. Unfortunately Henry, it doesn't really matter what you say. There is enough evidence here to put you away for a long time. You will never see the light of day; you will never know freedom, for all of eternity. If I were you, I would get used to small rooms without windows.\"\n\nDetective Pash collects his notes, and walks towards the door to exit. He stops at the door and turns around. \"Do you even have any remorse for what you did?\"\n\n\"Remorse? No, I have no remorse. How am I supposed to have remorse when I did not do anything wrong?\"\n\n\"Sheriff Wharton will be with you shortly.\"\n\nDetective Pash walks out the door. The sound of the slamming echoes off the walls.\n\nHenry rests his arms on the table and lays his head down. His face is throbbing. He grits his teeth and feels a grinding. He sticks his hand in his mouth and chucks of his teeth fall out. He spits more pieces on the floor.\n\nThe door rattles and a large man walks in wearing a cowboy hat, a large belt buckle, white button up shirt, bolo tie around his neck, a leather vest and a large badge that says 'Sheriff Wharton.' He also has a mound of chewing tobacco lodged in the side of his mouth.\n\n\"Son, might I ask what in the hell you think you're doing spitting on my interrogation room floor,\" bellows Sheriff Wharton.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but my teeth are falling out,\" says Henry with a mouthful of blood, saliva, and chunks of teeth.\n\n\"I don't really give a rat's ass. Where you're going you won't need them I can guarantee you that, yes sir. Now, boy, let me explain something to you, and I want you to hear me loud and clear.\"\n\nThe Sheriff Wharton moves right beside Henry, standing directly over top of him, to let Henry know exactly where they both stand. \"I know you killed my town's little girl. There's no two ways about. Her father is on the other side of that there glass. We have officers holding him back because he wants to come in here and beat you about the head until you die. Consider yourself lucky that I don't want your dead carcass on my interrogation room floor. Hell I might just have my officers escort you out back to my Ford pick 'em up truck and tie your ass to the bumper and let him drag you about town. . .\"\n\nHenry turns his head toward the glass.\n\n\". . .Look at me when I talk to you, boy. You're going to prison for the rest of your natural life. What do you think about that?\"\n\nHenry looks back at the Sheriff Wharton and then down at the ground. What can he really say that will make this any better?\n\n\"You stupid, son?\"\n\n\"No sir, I –\"\n\n\"You are stupid and crazy. I think you are crazier than a shithouse rat. So here's what I am going to do for you. We're going to make this trial speedy, you understand. You will agree to this. We're going to get you in front of a judge and jury of your peers and convict you quicker than you can say your mommy's name. I can't have you taking up space within my holding cells. And from there you and I go down in history as the man who killed Hope and the man who brought Hope justice?\"\n\nSheriff Wharton adjusts his belt, shaking his large belly around then adjusts his vest.\n\n\"Yes sir, you just got me re-elected. Hope will lay in her grave peaceful now that justice has been served,\" he says with a chuckle.\n\n\"This isn't justice, and Hope lies in a grave with nothing. If anything this is a miscarriage-\"\n\nSheriff Wharton slams both of his fat fists down on the table, gritting his teeth, in front of Henry, rattling the room. Henry can only stare at his turkey neck that is red and swinging from side to side.\n\n\"The only miscarriage should've been you,\" Sheriff Wharton says with a scowl.\n\nSheriff Wharton motions towards the observation glass. Shortly afterwards a dopey police officer roughly puts Henry back in handcuffs and leads him out the door and down a hall towards an exit.\n\nHenry is sitting on small concrete block next to a toilet. The arresting officers have striped him of his belt and shoes strings so that he doesn't try to kill himself with. An officer walks in and throws an oft white jump suit at Henry which he proceeds to put on. The same officer comes back, cuffs Henry and leads him outside where a group of officers are there waiting to lead Henry outside. One officer throws a towel over Henry's head.\n\nA patrol car is parked outside with blue lights flashing. There is a crowd of people cheering the officers who lead Henry to the car. Camera bulbs are flashing and cracking. There are some yelling and screaming. Others are cheering. Bottles, trash and rocks are being thrown at Henry also, some connecting, other crashing into the patrol car or the road.\n\n\"Shoot him now! Shoot him now!\" shouts one heathen.\n\n\"We want a public execution!\" shouts another.\n\nWhen the officers try and throw Henry in the car, they purposely expose the swollen left side of his face so it connects with the top part of the patrol car. He lets out a loud, painful scream which is welcomed with cheers and applause by the red neck onlookers. The officer waves to the crowd, smiling, which draws even louder applause.\n\nOnce inside the courthouse, Henry is seated at the table assigned for the defendants, next to his court appointed attorney who has been rushed into action. Henry is emotionless and distant. His attorney is overwhelmed but aloof.\n\nHe turns his look to the jury who stares back at him in disgust and also fear. They turned a blind eye for so long because it was easy, but now with a man brought before them by someone else and in a controlled environment, they are now free to be on their high horse. This 'partial' jury, astonished, horrified and spellbound by the details of the crime, is listening to the Commonwealth's Attorney Marshall Scott give a rousing closing argument.\n\n\"...Ladies and gentleman of the jury let me open my statement by repeating an answer Henry here gave to one of Radcliffe's finest during an interview,\" he walks over to the prosecution table and pulls a paper document from manila folder and reads, \"The detective asked Henry if he had any remorse for what he had done. Henry replied, and I quote, 'I have no remorse.'\"...\n\nThe crowd and the jury collectively gasp in unison.\n\n\". . . This man is a cold blooded killer of the worst kind. Neither sympathy, nor empathy lies inside his body. . .\"\n\nHenry looks over to his attorney, Counselor Lundwiig who looks as if he really wants to be elsewhere. He lifts the sleeve on his jackets to check the time on his watch.\n\n\". . . We have a sworn witness to the crime. He was there, outside that building. He heard it all. He heard her screams, her cries for it all to end. . .\"\n\nThe addict who was outside the building is sitting stoned in the audience without a clue of where or who he is. Eyes are glassy and red. His skin yellowed from liver damage and decorated with collapsed veins.\n\n\". . . She begged and pleaded to Henry for her life. . .\"\n\nThe Commonwealth's Attorney is walking, staring Henry in his eye, delighted as he gets the audience and jury worked up.\n\n\". . . He watched the young woman struggle for her last breathe, not thinking of her or her family. And he tried to cover it up and ruin her families name by saying she died of a drug overdoes. . .\"\n\nThe Dean and his wife are sitting in the crowd. The wife throws her head into her husband's chest in full blown tears that become contagious throughout the courtroom.\n\n\". . . There is not a doubt in my mind that if he was not in the chair right in front of us, he would be out looking for his next victim, leaving another family to deal with the lose of a loved one. . .\"\n\nThe Commonwealth's Attorney sees the vulnerability in the jury. They are wiping their eyes from being subjective. He struts over confidently to their stable, ready to attack.\n\n\". . . Our little town used to be peaceful. There was a time when we knew everyone by their first name. We used to be able to leave our doors unlocked while we were sleeping. Not anymore. But ladies and gentlemen, by putting people like Henry away is the first step in purifying our city. We are a tight nit Christian community; we are all God fearing people. The demons within our population should be found and brought to justice before us and God. God is testing our devotion with creations like this and we will prevail! All I ask of the jury is to make the right decision, a guilty verdict, before the eyes of God and continue our path towards righteousness. I have nothing more. Thank you very much. . .\"\n\nThe jury and the audience clap in exuberance as the Commonwealth's Attorney walks back to his table where he sits. The claps continue for minutes, cheering starts and people slowly begin to rise and give his resounding performance a standing over. He notices and the other assistant attorneys begin to nudge him. Finally he stands up and tips his figurative cap to them all which draws more cheers.\n\nHenry's court appointed attorney stares in awe, as if he were a prophet of judicial harmony. He claps under the table.\n\n\"I believe the jury doesn't even need to deliberate to reach its verdict?\" says Judge Knox who is smiling with glee and approval.\n\n\"Yes, your Honor,\" says the jury foreman, unable to overcome his sense of euphoria. \"On the count of first degree murder, we find the defendant...guilty!\" he says smiling and clapping for himself.\n\nThe courthouse is erupts. People in the crowd are overjoyed with the verdict. The prosecution are shaking hands and congratulating one another. Sheriff Wharton walks over to the Commonwealth's Attorney, they bear hug and laugh. He looks at Henry and gives him a wink and gun with his hands.\n\nHenry is standing like a stone statue in front of the Judge who bangs his gavel for order.\n\n\"Henry when I look at you I see a lost soul without direction and devoid of the necessary lessons in life to succeed,\" says Judge Know. \"I see an individual who does not belong in civilization, a community. It is people like you, if I should even refer to you as a person who makes my belief in God more powerful. Because believing in God makes me believe in hell. And that is where you will go when you are judged by the Lord, our Savior. Fortunately I am the closest human embodiment to God on Earth, which allows me to judge you here, and sentence you to serve the rest of your physical life in Hell on Earth. Court is adjourned.\"\n\nThe judge slams his gavel to a thunderous applause. The spectacle is over. Henry is numb, but feels dehydrated and impoverished. His attorney has already left the courthouse. The bailiff grabs and cuffs Henry and takes him out of the courtroom. The media parasites are gathering around him, bumping into, shoving microphones, recorders, boom microphones and large cameras into his face. The questions they ask blur together, obscure and indescribable jabber. The caterwauling from the jubilant, unwashed cattle in the court room and the bloodsucking stringers are causing delirious nausea within Henry's head. His brain has turned into a rat's cage, spinning to no end without a purpose.\n\nThe path to the North River Correctional Center is peaceful. The road is straight and narrow, only two unmarked lanes. When cars pass each other one has to swerve to the shoulder of the road. The land is flat and covered in grass until it meets the rolling hill which lay at the foot of the dead tree covered mountains.\n\nHenry walks off the convict carrying bus with a load of new convicts, all shackled around the wrists and ankles. He does his best to get a quick view of the facility which has a high chain linked fence with rows of razor barbed wire at the top and observation towers with armed guards, aiming and ready to fire. There are also prisoners outside lifting weights, exercising, and playing basketball. Others are either watching or socializing amongst themselves.\n\nHenry passes through the clunky, automatic gate and gets a full look at the prison itself. The stone building is four stories high and has been beaten by the weather and the cold like and old English castle. Rain and wind have damaged the stone foundation. The glass on the windows is partially stained from decades of dirt to the point it is almost impossible to see in or out.\n\nThe convicts and inmates cheer ungodly loud and clap obnoxiously as each new arrival passes them by and into the doors to be checked in at the administration building.\n\nOnce inside, Henry notices the floors are dusty and dirty, as if they have never been cleaned or buffed. The lights inside are dim and gloomy. Henry and the other inmates follow the long corridor through a doorway into something of a dark auditorium, theatre seats and all. The newly arrived inmates are on the stage. Armed guards walk out and each one grabs one prisoner at time to another room to the side. When the door opens to the Henry tries to peek. The room is white and there is a doctor inside. Henry waits his turn. Slowly inmates come out of the room naked and covered and white powder, shaking and shivering from the cold.\n\n\"They took my crucifix!\" says one inmate on the verge of tears. \"I can't believe they took my crucifix.\" He wipes his nose with his wrist.\n\nHenry's turn is next. An armed guard grabs him by the shoulders and leads him to the doorway with a rifle in the middle of his shoulder blades. Inside the door, the armed guard tells him to strip, which he does. The guard throws his clothes in a large green trash bag.\n\n\"What's your affiliation?\" the guard asks sternly.\n\n\"None,\" answers Henry.\n\n\"No crucifixes or rosary?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n\"Can you do twenty squats, please?\" the doctor asks. The doctor has a clip board and begins to scribble notes on Henry's physical form.\n\nHenry does his twenty squats with some difficulty due to his injuries.\n\n\"Ok, good. Cough?\" asks the doctor feeling Henry stomach and then grabbing his genitals. \"Ok, very well. Say ah.\" The doctor grabs a tongue suppressor from his pant pocket and sticks it in his mouth and looks inside. \"Ok officer he is clean.\"\n\nThe guard throws the white powder on him also and leads him outside.\n\nPrisoners yell and scream at the guards who lead Henry and the other along the long prison corridor to the showers. Henry stares at the ground and makes eyes contact with nobody.\n\nA group of guards are in the security room atop the shower looking on as Henry is showering up with a group of convicts. Everyone looks at Henry, he is the new guy. Henry feels their looks digging into him like a dull butter knife, he glances back and a few prison thugs are staring him down. The guards begin to throw some money on a small card table in the middle of the room.\n\nPrison thugs, three of them, are rather large men that wear their rap sheet like a badge of honor. 'Might is right' for these men who try to show their prison power to any and everyone.\n\nHenry quickly turns his head hoping they did not notice. Unfortunately -\n\n\"Did you see the looks that little bitch gave me?\" says the enormous thug. His arms, shoulders, neck and chest are large. His head is shaved bald and he has tattoos scribbled on there as well. His legs are not close, making his body look disproportioned.\n\n\"Damn right,\" says the second thug who also has a shaved head but isn't quite as muscular.\n\n\"What you lookin' at fish, you like what you see?\" says the enormous thug. He cracks his knuckles by squeezing his fists and cracks his neck by jerking his head around. He circles his arms around quickly, loosening them up.\n\n\"Answer him, mother fucker!\" says a third thug who appears from nowhere. This thug is leaner than the enormous thug. He looks much quicker.\n\nHenry continues to ignore and merely walks away to get his towel.\n\nThe second thug runs over to him, corrals him, and then throws him against the shower wall. \"Why you being so disrespectful?\" he say through clinched teeth.\n\n\"I am not a punk man. I don't want any trouble.\"\n\nThe second thug laughs, and let's go of Henry who slowly turns around.\n\n\"No trouble!\" The third thug sprints over and swings his right fist across the left side of Henry's face which is still tender. It shatters like an egg shell on concrete shower floor. Henry collapses to the ground like a bag stone and is quickly pounced on by the three thugs. Other convicts either watch or go along as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. The guards continue watching from the security room.\n\nThe thugs are stomping viciously on Henrys' ribs and face. The water at the base of the shower is filling with blood and turning completely red. Henry is relentlessly trying to get up but with each attempt he is stomped back down. He yells in pain as sends he first thug sends his right fist across the left side of Henry's face again. The second thug pounces on top of Henry as grabs the side of his head and slam the back of it onto the floor violently and repeatedly.\n\nFeeling as though they have done enough, they back away content with the feeling as if they have conquered a new land. Henry uses all of his remaining strength the get back to his feet. Once on his feet, but still bent over he accidentally stumbles back into the thugs who were watching with amazement. The second thug looks at the first thug in amazement. However, now that he is up, their work is not done. The second thug holds Henrys' arms behind his head in a full nelson to expose his body, which the enormous thug uses as a punching bag. His body absorbs the thunderous punches. The shower not only echoes with the sound of wet flesh hitting wet flesh, but also cracking bones. Henry's breathing is labored as his ribs are broken and his lungs are collapsing.\n\nThe second and third thugs are laughing at Henry who seems to bleeding from every opening in his body. The left side of his face is blackened and swollen. His body is badly bruised. The third thug finally throws Henry down to blood covered floor with a loud splash and crash.\n\n\"Get up now bitch!\" says the second thug laughing.\n\nThe group of thugs washes Henry's blood of them as Henry lies motionless. As they get their towels and leave, a guard finally walks and sees Henry gasping for air and trying to get up.\n\n\"Man down in the shower, over.\" says the guard on his radio.\n\nThe guard, not knowing the severity of the injuries or not caring, tries to pick Henry up. Henry lets out a distressful, caustic scream that rattles the walls.\n\nHenry is seated in a chair with two armed Guards holding him up with one hand and pressing a small semi automatic hand gun to his temples with the other. He is being questioned about the fight. His face is swollen and puffy, both eyes are fused shut and blood is dripping from the wounds under his eyes and from his mouth. His left eye is practically falling out.\n\n\"Can you tell me who did this to you?\" says the fat, curly blonde haired woman behind a desk.\n\nHenry is in too much pain to move a single muscle fiber and cannot answer. The officer does not seem to care, just wants answers.\n\n\"Would you be able to identify who did this?\" she asks.\n\nStill no answer; he cannot even shake his head.\n\n\"If he can't help us he needs to be put in solitary. Take him away,\" she says to the officers.\n\nThe two armed guards grab Henry from underneath his arm pits, lift and drag him out of the room.\n\nHenry is in a small closet of a room for his actions in the fight. The room is moist and warm and seems to get smaller and smaller by the second. The walls are secreting mucus. The dark room is slightly lit by cracks alongside the door jams.\n\nHenry is lying weak and impoverished. Fatty, unhealthy prison food is shoved through the small food chute and thrown about on the floor, which Henry does not touch. Henry's mind is slowly being minced and eaten away by savage-like suicidal thoughts. His anguish and pain can all be gone if were to end it all. With his breathing still labored it would not take long for strangulation to finish its job. His flaccid arms try to push his body to an upright position. He grabs the bottom of his shirt and attempt to lift the shirt over his head. Once half way there the pain in his ribs ignites like wild fire, burning his soul. Another loud scream shreds his vocal cords as he falls back down on the slimy and damp ground. The scream fades into cries. His muscles contract with every cry, causing even more pain.\n\nHenry finally begins to calm himself. He closes his eyes and inhales through his nose, holds it, then exhales through the nose. He tells himself that his stomach must extend past his chest as his lungs fill with oxygen. Through repetition his body takes control of the movement. He imagines the top of his skull opening and a light water fall pours in; an endless stream of rich, clean, blue water. His blood pressure and heart rate slow. He imagines the muscles relaxing to the point they could painlessly melt from the bone. The mental and physical anguish begins to fade as well. His mind, which was working against him before, has now faced the pain and overcome it. Rather than try and numb the pain, he faces it head on. He knows that this is integral to his survival in prison.\n\nVI\n\nHenrys' eyes rapidly flicker. He is alone in his deathless cell. His cell is six feet by eight feet with a concrete slab and a thin mattress on top which serves as his bed. The toilet is scrubbed and so white it shines. The sink, likewise, but the chrome handles look like mirrors.\n\nA sudden and uncontrollable urge lifts him from his bed. He falls to the ground stomach first, but before he hits, his hands break his fall and he begins doing elevated push ups with his feet on his bed. The sound of forceful, strained breathing, growls and grunts reverberate off the cell walls. He alternates going slow then fast. Sweat is rolling off his body, which is bulky and muscular. Muscles are bulging from places he never thought he had. He has transformed into that of an intimidating monster. His body is chiseled like a Michelangelo stone sculpture of a Greek god.\n\nHe stops, returns to his bed and begins reading a law manual. His room is filled with them. Each manual has tagged pages containing information relevant to overturning his conviction. The rest of his book collection consists of philosophical and psychological texts.\n\nMorning buzzer goes off.\n\nHenry makes his bed, puts his uniform shirt on, and waits for his door to open. He looks fresh for once. His blue uniform is pressed and his shoes are a glossy black.\n\nAnother buzzer sounds and his door comes unlocked and he steps outside his cell, standing tall, waiting to be accounted for.\n\nAn armed guard walks along counting heads. Only a few prisoners come out at a time. Once one group is counted, the others come out. There are guards posted all along the wing wearing bulletproof vests and aiming rifles at the prisoners.\n\nOnce he is done, they uniformly walk in a single file line to the day room where they await for the cafeteria doors to open and serve their food. Along the way Henry looks up to the roof of the corridor and sees small windows showing the blue morning sky.\n\nThe cafeteria is a vast space with sixteen metal tables with four chairs at each. Guards are posted all throughout the cafeteria with their rifles loaded, cocked and aimed at the prisoners.\n\nHenry has chicken fried chicken, runny mashed potatoes and cup of water and sits to himself, until he is ultimately followed by others.\n\nOne convict that sits down at the table, a young man named Ronnie. Today is Ronnie's first full day in prison. He is doing time for assault and battery on his under aged girlfriend. His dark hair is slicked back and he has beard stubble. He is a charming man with the intelligence of a ten year old.\n\nHe motions to Henry to get his attention. \"Hey, why do all the guards have their guns drawn at us?\"\n\n\"To shoot us,\" he says sarcastically. \"Something usually happens during chow anyways. We had a big fight yesterday. Sorry you missed it.\"\n\n\"Did they actually use the rifles? What happened?\"\n\n\"They had to. A runner was settling a debt with a guy who wouldn't pay up. He used a shank that he made from a bed leg and stabbed the guy in the chest.\"\n\nRonnie is frightened but tries to play tough. \"My name's Ronnie,\" he says extending his hand to be shaken.\n\n\"Henry. I don't shake hands. Why are you talking to me?\"\n\n\"First thing you do when you come to a place you haven't been before is to make nice with the baddest guy around, right?\"\n\n\"That's not me.\"\n\nRonnie shovels a spoonful of slop into his mouth and immediately spits it out. \"This shit is nasty,\" he says while wiping his mouth. \"How can you sit there and eat this stuff?\"\n\n\"It is institutional food, you will get used to it.\"\n\nRonnie uses his plastic fork to stab the mystery meat and place it on Henry's tray.\n\n\"So what are you in here for?\" asks Ronnie.\n\nHenry takes a minute to pause. He lifts his head up from his meal. \"Word of advice; do not ask anyone what they're doing time for. And also, don't answer.\" Henry scans the room with electric eyes. \"There's something brewing now.\"\n\nA group of prisoners are sitting at a table; they are all staring and sizing up a new guard. He is a younger, baby faced man, perfect target for a prisoner who is trying to make a name for himself. One of the prisoners, a white man who is acting like he is black, is messing with something underneath of the table, fidgeting as if he has a nervous disorder.\n\nA buzzer sounds indicating chow time is over. Henry places his fork, knife and spoon all on the table to be verified by the guards. Two Guards come to him; one puts his rifle to the back of his head, the other counts the silverware.\n\nAll convicts are walking in a straight line out of the cafeteria. Henry is the second from last in line with one of the prisoners who was sizing up the Young Guard is bringing up the rear. The Young Guard is the last person to leave the cafeteria when for a moment he loses his head and the prisoner swings around with a shiv that looks like a small bayonet. He grazes the side of the Young Guards neck, who is taken by surprise. The prisoner lifts the shiv over his head in a stab ready position, but before he can strike down, Henry turns around and forcefully grabs the prisoner, stripping him of his shiv and holding it against his neck until the Young Guard can compose himself and take the prisoner away.\n\nOther guards come to the aid of the young guard while other convicts come back to check the scene. Some guards start yelling at the convicts and taking them to their jobs or back to their cells, while the remaining guards beat the prisoner with the butt of their rifles.\n\nHenry works in the prison library. He is carrying a cart full of old, hardcover books through the aisles and placing them on the shelves where they need to go. He is also carrying a newspaper, which he is reading while working.\n\nAn article within today's paper freezes him to his core. The article reads:\n\n'DRUNKEN POLICE CHASE LANDS DEAN IN JAIL. '\n\nHenry begins to quietly read to himself, \"Radcliffe University Dean faces drunk driving charges after flipping university-owned vehicle. The chase started last night when a caller reported a vehicle driving with three blown tires and swerving into on coming traffic. When police found the vehicle a chase ensued and ended when the Dean ran into a guard rail and the vehicle over turned. He failed a field sobriety test and refused a breathalyzer at the scene. He registered a 0.18 at the station. The University has no comment.\"\n\nHe tucks the paper under his arm, as always, and continues putting books on the shelf.\n\nAnother cold, gloomy day and Henry is sitting on the ground against the building writing in a journal. He is by himself, no interruptions.\n\nTypical activities during rec time are weight lifting, basketball and other forms of exercise. Although physical, it is an emotional refreshment to be outside of the walls. Henry looks over across the yard towards what seems to be the minimum security ward and they are planting small flowers and/or flowery bushes. He cannot really tell. He sees Ronnie and they make eye contact which prompts Ronnie to excitedly walk over to him. Ronnie is smoking an unfiltered cigarette and has another on his ear.\n\n\"Man, you got everybody talking. The guy who saved the hack. That is incredible. Why'd you do it? I thought it was us against them?\"\n\n\"This isn't TV. This is reality. They're people no different than us. Flesh, blood, whatever. No one has said anything to me.\"\n\nRonnie extends the cigarette from his ear toward Henry, which he refuses.\n\n\"Hey, you don't mind if I have a look at that paper do you?\" he asks while trying to sit down beside Henry.\n\n\"Actually, yes I do. There's an article in here that is extremely important to me. Has anyone told you anything about prison? I had to tell you not to ask about what got me here, it's meddling. But meddling means other things too. It means meddling with everything. Like coming over here uninvited and asking for my paper; or just coming over in general. It could get you in a lot trouble.\"\n\nRonnie bows his head and flashes a cracked, broken smile. \"Yeah, yeah, you're right; sorry I bothered you.\"\n\nHe turns and walks away saddened, which prompts Henry to feel sorry for the young and naïve Ronnie.\n\n\"Hey kid!\" Henry shouts loudly.\n\nRonnie quickly swings his body around in the direction of Henry, with a smile on his face. Henry waves him over and Ronnie walks back to him. He hands him the paper and Ronnie sits down beside him, but not too close.\n\n\"Only until rec time is over then that paper is mine again.\"\n\nThe sudden urge returns and Henry begins his last workout of the day before lights out, triceps pushups on the edge of his bed. He is blood red and covered in sweat. The backs of his arms are pumping with blood; the triceps muscle is forming the perfect upside down 'V.'\n\nAfter his final set, he unstitches a portion of his mattress pad and pulls out a collection of papers. This is Henry's book of collages of his old home town. All newspaper articles have been cut and pasted on multiple pieces of paper.\n\nHe rips the article from today's paper, squeezes glue on one side then finally pastes the article down next to another article which reads: 'SHERIFF WHARTON RETIRES ONE DAY, DIES THE NEXT. '\n\nHis mail is also sitting on the floor, untouched. He sees a letter from the Virginia Court of Appeals. He opens the letter and reads quietly to himself, \"Court of Appeals number 01VA1986. City of Radcliffe District Court number 04VA1962. Honorable Judge Benjamin K. Whitlock. The People of the State of Virginia versus Henry T. Horace. Judgment denied.\n\nHenry folds the letter back and fits it into the envelope. He sticks the envelope in his collage book next to another 'Judgment Denied' letter, and then places his collection back into the opening inside the mattress.\n\nHe does his best to calm his nerves again. He practices his breathing exercise and slowly relaxes. He grabs another large hardcover criminal law manual, opens it and hops into his bed. He is unable to sleep, so he reads throughout the night.\n\nHe reads until he can see some form of light shining through the roof windows which prompts him to start his routine of push ups and sits. He finishes and is dressed before the alarms sounds to start of another day and the same routine for him. The alarms sound and lead Henry and others to the cafeteria. Everything is exactly same as the day before except now instead of chicken fried chicken for breakfast, it is 'eggs' and 'sausage' and a plastic cup of orange juice. The other prisoners are glaring at him for his actions the day before- saving the enemy.\n\nRonnie is rambling on to the people at the table about his conviction and how he was an innocent man. \"My dad hired the best, and highest priced lawyer who proved in court that all she did was date a guy and said they beat her. It was a sickness. It happened to her other boyfriends too! \"\n\nOne of the convicts from the table gets up and leaves, he does not want to be associated with a sniveler and also the traitor. Just as he leaves another comes down beside Ronnie. He is a skinny man with short brown and a thin mustache and beard with Chinese eyes. He stares at Ronnie waiting for the rest of his story.\n\nRonnie continues, \"The system is all jacked up man, aren't we all innocent. Well maybe not innocent, but surely not guilty. Right? That Commonwealth's Attorney is dirty. I heard he is Supreme Court judge, now.\n\nRonnie is looking around the table, searching for an agreement, a response anything.\n\n\"Tell me about it,\" says the new coming Chinese eyed prisoner.\n\nHenry can only shake his head, as Ronnie has brought some unwanted attention to himself. A sniveler is degenerable, not to mention a sex offending sniveler.\n\n\"Why don't we keep it down for a second? You don't want these people to view you as weak.\"\n\n\"Weak? What do you mean? I ain't weak?\"\n\n\"I am going to give you my last piece of advice and I want you to listen closely.\"\n\nRonnie draws closer to soak up the intellect from a prison educated man.\n\n\"Stop talking. Don't talk. Ever,\" advises Henry as sternly as he possible can.\n\nThe Chinese eyed prisoner stares at Ronnie, not even noticing anything Henry has said.\n\nWith that, the buzzer goes off and all prisoners place their plastic cutlery on their trays to be checked. Once again the two guards conduct their gun drawn routine.\n\nHenry is casually walking with some guards as they lead him from the cafeteria to work.\n\n\"Henry, come with me. You have a visitor,\" says a voice from behind him. He turns around suspicious and prepared for anything. It is the Young Guard.\n\n\"How? I don't even have a list,\" he says.\n\n\"Just follow me.\"\n\nThe guards release him to the custody of the Young Guard.\n\nThe visitation room looks just like the interrogation room, just white walls and a window. It is also much cleaner. There are two white chairs and one white table.\n\nAn armed guard leads Henry, who shackled along the hands and feet. He shuffles to one of the chairs and is slammed down by the guard, who positions himself in the corner of the room, in view of Henry with his gun drawn ready to fire if needed.\n\nAt that moment, a uniformed police officer walks into the room with a case file in his right hand and a steaming cup of coffee in his left.\n\nHe is a middle aged man with dark, salt and pepper hair, mustache and a strong cleft chin. He is Sheriff Martin Johnson, the newly appointed sheriff of Radcliffe. Sheriff Johnson sits down in the chair across from Henry and extends his hand.\n\n\"Henry, my name is Sheriff Martin. I am the Sheriff of the City of Radcliffe, and I just wanted to ask you a few questions,\" he says.\n\n\"Alright. Something else you want to pin on me?\"\n\n\"No sir, Henry; I just wanted to show something; maybe you could help me out with a recently opened investigation.\"\n\n\"I'm not a specialist, or Ted Bundy or anything, but ok.\"\n\n\"Great, thanks Henry. Let me find it in my file here.\"\n\nSheriff Johnson fumbles through his file, desperately searching for something. He loses control of the folder and all of his papers fall to the floor. \"Oh no. I know it is in here somewhere,\" he says quietly to himself. \"So I understand you saved a guard yesterday? You must be a popular guy within the convict community.\"\n\n\"The code of humanity is much more important than the prison code. I was just doing what I thought was right. Consequences from unintelligent white trash hypocrite convicts be damned. It looks much better for me now; I am having a conversation with a sheriff.\"\n\n\"Interesting,\" he says while lifting a piece of paper. \"Here it is! Here, Henry, I would like you to take a look at this. Read it to me and tell me what you think.\"\n\nHenry cannot read the type, so Sheriff Johnson hands him his glasses.\n\n\"Psychological evaluation. Confidential. Hope T. Dickson. Dickson? As in...\"\n\n\"Oh yeah.\"\n\nHenry may have just been metaphysically punched in the gut, but he keeps reading, \"...is a Caucasian female sent to me for symptoms relating to drug induced schizophrenia. Symptoms include restlessness, paranoia, depression and delusions.\"\n\nHenry scans down the paper. \"Behavioral observations. She was brought in unwillingly by her father. She never made eye contact with anyone in the room and could not sit still. The patient had self inflicted cuts or scratches on her arms.\"\n\n\"Stop there Henry. Self inflicted cuts or scratches. Tell me the date of the evaluation. Should be right up top.\"\n\n\"June 22, 1995. Ok, tell me what this means?\"\n\n\"The prosecution withheld this information from your defense.\"\n\nAnger is boiling in Henry's gut like magma underneath a volcano. He takes the glasses off and hands them back to Sheriff Johnson. He hears the rifle cock as the exchange is made.\n\nSheriff Johnson continues, \"Henry, Hope was an escaped mental patient who hopped a train to Radcliffe. Only the prosecution knew this. Her father finally found her here, and coincidentally the University had an opening.\"\n\n\"I am having quite a hard time understanding. Why was evidence withheld? They knowingly put an innocent man in prison for life? The Dean, Sheriff Wharton and the Commonwealth's Attorney, they all knew?\"\n\n\"Sheriff Wharton knew he needed a conviction and fast. He found that drug addict outside the building who led them to you. He had no physical evidence, but minute circumstantial evidence. If he needed to hide or manipulate evidence to bring about the quick conviction, he did it.\"\n\n\"He told me I would get him re-elected.\"\n\n\"You did; and he won over me. I was on the force then and always had my doubts as to how a man with no criminal record could come from nowhere and commit murder. You didn't even have one driving citation. I had a hard time just trying to find your name in databases. You didn't even have a damn parking ticket.\"\n\n\"I never had a car.\"\n\n\"Ok. Well you never jay walked. The strange thing about this is that we found this information in the trunk of the Dean's car. He kept this privileged information with him at all times. To the Dean's credit however, he was apparently told to hide or destroy this information. He was applying a lot of pressure on Wharton to find a killer.\"\n\n\"So now that you have this, what are you going to do? You going to sit on it too?\"\n\n\"I have been investigating this for awhile now. I have always had my doubts, like I said. I have a team that is reviewing everything as we speak. If we find evidence to suggest that you killed her, then you stay and this meeting never happened, if we find anything that brings reasonable doubt or even a flat out acquittal then we take it to trial and hope the judge sets you free. Although I think this alone devastates the prosecutions claim of defense wounds.\"\n\n\"I am going to act as though this meeting never happened. I will continue to file my appeals as I always have. You keep investigating as you like, but right now I just don't know if I can trust that the replaceable liars who put me in here now want to help me.\"\n\n\"Perfect. We will be in touch, Henry.\"\n\nThe armed guards come over to Henry and grab him underneath the arms and lead him out of the room.\n\nHenry is sitting alone on the same spot on the ground looking at a newspaper, too distracted to read. He can't help but see and feel like the looks the other prisons are giving; like he was a leper. And also can't stop thinking about the meeting with the Sheriff.\n\nHe sees Ronnie and another group of prisons being led outside by a smaller group of armed guards. He immediately looks for Henry in his spot on the ground and waves at Henry, walking towards him.\n\nAt that moment the prisoner who tried to stab the young guard comes from behind Ronnie and slits his throat with the same shiv.\n\n\"Let's hear you bitch now! You punk bitch!\" shouts the prisoner.\n\nHe turns his stare to Henry and smiles as the guards rush over to the prisoner and throw him down to the ground and cuff him. One guard confiscates the weapon, while the others beat him more.\n\nRonnie is convulsing on the ground clutching his throat as blood pours through his fingers, down his prison shirt and forming a red puddle on the ground.\n\nHenry drops his paper and sprints to Ronnie but before he can get to him he is corralled by other guards who tell him sternly to calm down.\n\nThe Chinese eyed prisoner looks on for the corner of the yard with a member of the prisoner's entourage.\n\nLater that evening, Henry is sitting on his bed reading the same criminal law book, not doing his work out. His routine has been destroyed by the Sheriff revelation and then Ronnie's sudden death.\n\nThe noise of the prisoners seems to get louder and louder to Henry. He had become adapted to operating within himself, now that he has become noticed and singles out by the others, paranoia is setting in. The looks they give eat away at his skin and a new feeling from his gut is also eating him from within. Fear. Anxiety. Hope. They all need to be extinguished. The noise from the prisoners gets louder and louder. Lights out could not come soon enough.\n\nHenry is again led in, shackled wrist and ankle, by an armed guard, who throws him down in the same chair. The guard walks over to the same spot in the room and aims his high powered rifle at Henry's head. Another sleepless night has Henry exhausted and dark eyed. Sheriff Johnson is already seated in his chair.\n\n\"This is getting deep Henry. The prosecutions case is completely falling apart. We have documents upon documents that weren't turned over. Your blood was at the scene but nowhere on her, the psyche evaluation, her history of suicide attempts, the prosecutions key witness now saying he remembers a white car pulling up to the building-\"\n\n\"Wait a second. A white car? Was it a Ford Mustang?\"\n\n\"Yes. Do you know something else?\"\n\n\"Yes, I saw that car the night she was killed. He was a dealer, right? I think I had an incident with him as well.\"\n\n\"Yes he is.\"\n\nHenry sees another man walking through the door in a suit, but looking rather sloppy. His suit is wrinkled and untucked. He is a very strange looking man. He is pear shaped with skinny legs and small feet. He is bald but has hair on the sides and back of his head which are long, gray and scraggly. His skin in olive colored with a greenish hue. He walks hunched over due to his age. His nose is long and pointy.\n\nHe sits down and smiles at Henry and his teeth are yellowish green and sharp like a piranha. His eyes are red, burning with contempt. This is Henry's new attorney, Mark Rigby. And with a gravely voice- \"Henry, I filed a petition to the court on your behalf to have your charges vacated; a post conviction writ of habeas corpus. Not only are there ethical and legal ramifications for the prosecution, reasonable doubt but also, us both-\"\n\n\"We both feel you're innocent Henry. Feel, hell, we know it!\" interrupts the Sheriff.\n\n\"Please Sheriff,\" says Rigby, holding his arm across the Sheriff's chest. He turns his fiery gaze back towards Henry. \"Now, Henry. This is a case of unjustified imprisonment and an unfair trial. We're going to attack the prosecution for the suppressed evidence and also prove your innocent beyond a reasonable doubt. And from there the judge can do three things: retrial, deny the motion, or throw your conviction out entirely. We have all the documentation and people who are willing to testify on your behalf.\"\n\n\"Ok. This whole process can take months, years, who knows? So I will sit here, in hell with this over my head. I haven't been hopeful about anything my life. Just stop trying to fill me with something as absurd as hope.\"\n\n\"Henry,\" says the Sheriff.\n\n\"No, don't Henry me,\" says Henry, angrily interrupting.\n\nAs the argument gets heated, the armed guard runs over behind Henry, cocks his gun and puts it to the back of his head. He presses it so hard it is bruising.\n\n\"Henry, we are trying to help you. If you could just take the prison mask off-\"\n\nRigby interrupts, \"Oh, Sheriff, this isn't a mask. Masks get broken in prison. You have to change who you are and become something else. Something that can neither be broken or corrupted, something not built on defective principles. You need to be built on the essence of survival in an environment were its people cultivate fear, and look for which people are overcome by it. And those who cannot overcome are dismantled and eaten alive. Those who look fear in the eye and ask for more, they survive. . .\"\n\nHenry stares at Rigby as he continues his diatribe. He is cutting right to the core of Henry.\n\n\". . . I understand, Henry. You don't have to trust me. I know behind these walls trust is used against you, but with me taking full control over this, you will not have to worry about these walls much longer.\n\n\"These walls are my home. I don't even care about being set free anymore. I shouldn't even be saying this, but imagine I do get set free, how do I adjust? I don't know what the world is like out there. I couldn't acclimate myself to everything then. What makes you think that I am going to be able to succeed now, if I am released?\n\n\"Do your best to integrate back into society? You can speak up for those who have been mistreated, such as yourself. Maybe talk to prisoners about their transition to life in prison.\"\n\n\"Talk to prisoners? Sheriff let me tell you a story. I knew a man, a naïve man, who came into prison looking to accustom himself to his surrounding. But see there are different rules inside. You don't look to make friends so you have someone to talk to and confide in. You stay aloof and alert. So one day this man made the mistake of saying he had money within his grasp. Very. Bad. Decision. So when someone else who is trying to be accepted hears this he looks to take advantage of the naïve man. He has him set up and here is how it goes. Prisoner sets up a fake sneak attack so he could be the one to save the day. Once naïve man is saved by,\" he pauses, thinking. \"Let's call him the savior prisoner. So savior prisoner tells the naïve man I will protect you for this amount of dollars. However the prisoner savior is looking for protection also and will take this money to a gang he is looking to join. Unknowingly, naïve man agrees. However when a payment is not met, naïve man is stricken down from behind by the blade of a homemade knife to throat to lie convulsing on the ground. Innocence and naiveté lie convulsing on the floor.\"\n\n\"What of the savior prisoner?\" asks the Sheriff.\n\n\"He will die too, along with everyone the naïve man knew. That is justice in here. Maybe it isn't too much like the outside.\"\n\nRigby is laughing and says, \"You enjoy your freedom in a way that makes you and only you happy. The biggest crime and injustice of oneself in this world is to live confined from happiness.\"\n\nHenry nods his head approvingly, still with the gun in the back of his head.\n\nHenry is being transported to the courthouse for the first day of his hearing. He is like always; shackled again on his wrists and hands. On both sides of him are two armed guards with their rifle, both staring at him waiting for one wrong or sudden move. The van is making hard turns causing Henry is to jostle around, and with every move the guards bump into him purposefully and forcefully.\n\nOnce at the courthouse, unlike before, there is not a large crowd gathered outside the courtroom. There are no people holding signs wishing for Henry's immediate death, no cameras filming or flashing and of course no signs of encouragement acknowledging the insanity and abuse of justice.\n\nThe guards whisk Henry through the back door of the courthouse. Officers and lawyers within stare at him through their inexpedient eyes as if he was an incongruous savage. They lead him into a room with Rigby and they both sit in chairs, staring at the walls in silence.\n\nAn officer grabs the still cuffed Henry and leads him to the defendants table. He looks across to the table of the Protectors of the State; all wearing the same grey suits and ties. He turns his head around to look out to the almost empty courtroom. Conspicuously absent are the Dean, who cannot be found, Wharton who is slabbed, bagged, and tagged, and the former Commonwealth's Attorney, who is wearing a white wig elsewhere. For now.\n\nThe bailiff hollers, \"All rise for the honorable Judge Madden.\" Everyone obliges. \"Court is now in session. You may be seated\"\n\n\"Proceed,\" motions Judge Madden to the defense.\n\n\"I'd like to call Russell Johnson to the stand, please,\" says Rigby, sound as if he had eaten a breakfast sandwich of peanut butter, sand and gravel.\n\nHenry stares Russell down as he stumbles weakly onto the stand. He is the addict who was said to be outside the building when Henry left. He is uncomfortable, timorous and ill at ease.\n\n\"What I have in my hand right now is the official court transcript in which you identified this man,\" Rigby says pointing to Henry. \"as the last man who left that building the night Hope died. Also in this hand I have a retraction after your most recent bust, in which you blabbed your ass off for leniency, that you actually remembered a white car arriving after my client left. Elaborate, please. Describe the man who last left that building.\"\n\n\"He, he was very tall, ya know. He was white, real white. Just like those papers. Very white. His eyes were red, maybe contacts. No I think he was albino. He was bald, he did have no hair. He was wearing all black clothes but I could tell he was very skinny. It didn't look like he walked; he slithered, like a serpent. When he looked at me. . . If looks could kill, I wouldn't be here today. He was with a man in a suit\"\n\n\"Thank you, no further questions. Please get off the stand. Your Honor I would like to call Counselor Lundwiig to the stand please.\"\n\nLundwiig walks down the aisle and sits on the stand across from his counterpart. He is terrified. His former client's new representation is far more superior then he.\n\nRigby grabs a handful of documents from the defense table and hands them to Lundwiig without saying a word. \"If you could, sir, flip through those and tell what they all have in common.\"\n\nLundwiig licks his finger and flips through the papers. He looks absolutely confused and dumbfounded. \"I am sorry; I cannot identify one similarity in here.\"\n\n\"Ok, well let me ask you a simple and straightforward question. Have you ever seen these?\"\n\nLundwiig flips through the documents again. Rigby is getting slightly frustrated. He looks to the judge and then looks at Henry, and shrugs his shoulders.\n\n\"No sir I have not.\"\n\n\"Exactly. That is because the prosecution withheld these. That, your honor is systematic abuse of prosecutorial discretion.\n\n\"I wish I would've had these then. This is surely enough to challenge the jury's verdict.\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" says Rigby, motioning his hands and bowing down as if he were waiting for claps and roses. \"You may step down.\"\n\nRigby walks back to the defense table and tells Henry, \"Talk about ineffective counsel.\" He rises back up and announces, \"the last witness I would like to call to the stand is the real victim in this all, Henry Horace.\n\nHenry, still shackled, shuffles his way to the witness stand, as his rusty chains ring throughout the courtroom.\n\nRigby continues, \"Henry, all I would like you to do is to address the courtroom, address the state that has wrongly and maliciously conspired to strip you of your freedom as a means to propel themselves into the stratosphere of saint hood.\"\n\nHe takes a deep breath and tried to compose himself.\n\n\"The world waits,\" says Rigby through a devilishly slanted smile.\n\nHenry, solemn, clears his throat. \"I remember the day I found out Hope died. I remember what I was doing and where I was. I was numb and frozen for one moment but at that point in my life, I was stuck on a vessel going at light speed in one direction. Any time I looked back, time stood still. The hands on the clock never moved. Frozen. The hands have never moved since. I appeared to be on a fast track to a slow death . . . which I was ok with.\" Henry stops and digs his finger tips into his eyes and grinds his teeth. He then takes a few deep breathes to collect his thoughts.\n\n\"Dealing with lose requires steps, a process we use to get over the anger and pain on the road to acceptance. Some of us come out on the other end a better and more whole person. Imagine though, it being taken away, ripped out with a blunt knife by those who are assigned and elected to protect you. The process takes longer. Not only do you have to try and accept it, but you also have to survive. No one in this room can fully understand what it is like to be an innocent man branded a killer. To have their own pain used against them as a means to arrange a false verdict. It was nothing more than a pop psyche excuse created by buffoons and was efficiently used to persuade a panicky population who already had their minds made up. I guess I am surprised they did not use Satan worship or heavy metal music against me; just to go with the other lies. I imagine afterwards that those who lied to convict me enjoyed a toast in my honor and slept in their blood money. They had put a city to sleep by convicting an innocent man, and I hope you slept well. I can spin this positively and say I finally helped my community. I do not need sympathy or for you to empathize, just know that the shield or flag can turn on you also, to benefit itself. A city built on defective principles and injustice can never see the end they envision, only an illusion. Reality catches up with us all, and then it's all over. Until then, I hope you all have sweet dreams.\"\n\nHenry gets up and walks off the stand and over to the defense table, next to his lawyer who looks upon him approvingly. He sits at his table nervously with Rigby who as always is more than confident.\n\nJudge Madden has heard all he needs to hear. The anger in his voice is controlled and calculated. \"It is uncharacteristic of me to come to a decision this fast, but what about this case is characteristic of anything that has happened before. This sets a catastrophic precedent. The system of jury trials is the government's instrument of protecting its people, not the government's instrument of protecting and covering up its mistakes. This system, our system, has failed in every possible way. It is unfortunate that only now after years of imprisonment that you are given actual innocence. I am ashamed of the way my government has operated within its own confines, using its rules not as a means to bring about justice, but as a means to silence its subjects. Situations like this that bring upon revolt. With that, I am dropping all charges effective immediately free of bail. Court is adjourned. Welcome home.\"\n\nHenry and Rigby shake hands.\n\nSheriff Johnson comes up to Henry and wraps his arms around him, Henry lightly pats his back. He notices the Young Guard is with Sheriff Johnson, and also has the same cleft chin.\n\nThe new Commonwealth's Attorney J. Christopher Jett also walks over to Henry to shake his hand. He has a camera man following him. \"Henry, I just wanted to be the first to apologize on the behalf of the City of Radcliffe. I just want you to know however that what was done to you was with the best intentions of the city as a whole. We are prepared to work out any settlement you may want. We would rather keep it out of the court.\"\n\nCommonwealth's Attorney Jett pulls out a velvet box and opens it. Within it is a silver and gold Rolex.\n\nHenry stares at the watch, resting on the fingers of his suppenated hand and brings his head up slowly, looking him directly in the eye and slowly laughs. His laugh gets louder and loud until it is knocking in the tilted door of hysterical. Tears begin to flow down his face in an avalanche of irony. He wipes his tear of joy and tries to calm himself down. \"Fuck you.\"\n\nHe turns and walks towards the exit door of the courthouse by himself.\n\nHenry is in his cell for the last time, going through all of his belongings, trying to figure out what he will take or throw away. Everything within his room is tossed into the trash. He unstitches his mattress and pulls out his newspaper collage. He stares at it one last time and throws that away as well.\n\nAn alarm has sounded. The loudest alarm Henry thought was possible.\n\nThe prisoners start yelling and screaming, a riot has started. The armed guard by the cells cocks his rifle and leaves Henry in his room. The lights and heat have been shut off. Tears gas begins to rise from the floor to the ceiling within the corridor.\n\nAs Henry walks cautiously towards his cell door, a STRIKE- he has been stabbed in the stomach. He stumbles back into his bed and falls, doubled over with blood pouring into his hand as the riot continues. The sound of SCREAMING, YELLING, guns FIRING fades in Henry's ears until the silence accompanies him into the darkness.\n\nEPILOGUE\n\nAn alarm goes off.\n\nHenry wakes up in his bedroom, refreshed for once after a long, long, long, deep sleep. His hair is long and an absolute shaggy mess.\n\nThe radio switches on, \"Welcome back ladies and gentleman this has truly been a wild show today. Let me bring on our last guest of the day and certainly not the least, Radcliffe's newly appointed-\" Henry knocks the clock radio of the plastic crate night stand. He looks at the clock, which doesn't reveal a time of day, just flickering numbers. He rubs his eyes, gets up out of bed and makes his way directly into the bathroom.\n\nHe gets out his tooth paste and tooth brush and begins to brush his teeth. Once done, he spits and rinses with out the first sight of blood. He picks up some clothes on his floor, a white t-shirt and jeans and makes his way to the door.\n\nThe sun is SHINING. The streets have completely transformed. They have fresh pavement with fresh yellow and white paint unscathed by storms and filth. The sidewalks have new concrete and are not covered in trash. Also on the sidewalks are lush green trees surrounded by mulch. The sun light is even reflecting off the dew from freshly cut grass.\n\nChildren are playing at the playground across the street, laughing and having the times of their young lives. Mothers are sitting with other mothers watching them. There are even people in the crystal clear, shimmering pool..\n\nHe takes a deep breath and begins to walk up the street.\n\nThe graveyard grass is green and lively. Flowers and balloons decorate all the headstones, which are intact and solid.\n\nHenry is standing over his mother's headstone. He wipes away tears from his eyes and crouches down. He lifts the small metal handle on his mother's head stone to reveal an old, cardboard shoe box. He reaches in and grabs the box to open it. It is filled to top with cash. He tucks the box underneath his arm and turns to walk away. He notices the stone angel, her head is back on her shoulders, but her position has changed. She is no longer face planted in her hands. She has her head tilted down and to the left and with her wings and arms wide open. Henry looks at the angel, wipes another tear away from his eye and leaves the graveyard.\n\nHe goes to the location of Mr. Hoffer's office which is now a large, brick medical practice. The front door is in a huge glass archway with black tinted glass. The sign next to the parking lot does not list his name on the board. He walks into the office and is in a waiting room filled with children and their parents. He makes eye contact with the young, beautiful receptionist who opens her window. When she smiles her white teeth RADIATE between her lips, which sparkle from her pink glittery lip gloss, and light up the room.\n\n\"Hello there! What can I help you with? Do you have an appointment?\" gleams the receptionist.\n\n\"No. Is Mr. Hoffer here?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, who?\"\n\n\"Mr. Hoffer. He used to practice here.\"\n\n\"I am sorry. There is no one here by that name. Was he a pediatrician or a physician?\"\n\n\"He was a psychiatrist.\"\n\n\"No, again I am sorry, but there's no one here named Mr. Hoffer. I actually did not know this used to be a psychiatric office. Learn something new everyday, right?\n\nHenry nods his head and slowly walks away from the window and out the door.\n\nHe stands across from Al's Used Auto Part's. He sees Tim and John arrive on the same time and walk into the building for another day in greasy paradise. Neither of them notices Henry.\n\nHe continues walking down the street, shoe box in hand, and can barely see due to the SHINING of the sun. He sees the Quick Mart he used to frequent, which no longer has steel security bars on the windows. He walks over to a spinning rack of sun glasses. He finds a pair of gold brimmed glass with brown lenses. As he is walking over to the counter to pay, he spots a black book bag which he also picks up. He pays in cash, which the clerk takes hesitantly and stares suspiciously once seeing inside the box.\n\nHenry walks out of the door and is still taking in the scenery. Everything seems too peaceful and bright. It is energizing and blissful. He stops at a house with freshly cut, lush lawn. He takes in the smell and looks at the small, white rambler with black shutters. The porch is stained a beautiful brown and the front door is opened. Blooming pink, red and purple flowers decorate the garden on both sides of the porch which is filled with rich brown mulch. A light breeze passes through the wind chimes hanging on the roof of the porch.\n\nThere is a man in the front yard polishing a Harley Davidson chopper with his back turned to Henry. He is a tall, thin, Older Gentlemen with shaggy, dark brown and grey hair, which is covered by a straw fedora.\n\nHenry looks at the bike which has chrome ape hanger handle bars, chrome frames and rims with an oft white body.\n\nThe man moves to the other side of the chopper to reveal a 'For Sale' sign. Upon seeing his face Henry notices he also has a beard. He spots Henry, and put his hand over the brim of his hat to shield his eyes from the sun. \"Hi there neighbor. Can I help ya?\"\n\n\"That's a nice bike.\"\n\n\"Yes, Yes indeed. She sure is. I have to sell her though. I hate to see her go. I think my driving days might be over though.\"\n\n\"Why is that?\"\n\n\"I have done enough riding in my time. I'm just ready to settle down. I just don't know what I will do to replace the feeling I got from riding; the freedom.\n\nThere is absolutely nothing like it. Being on this bike, I just felt apart from everything.\"\n\n\"How much do want for it?\n\n\"Well. . .\"\n\n\"I have cash,\" interrupts Henry. He unzips his book bag and pulls out his shoe box. He opens it to show the money to the Older Gentleman, whose eyes grow large. Henry grabs a few handfuls of cash and hands them over to him. \"Are there any problems or anything that I need to know about?\"\n\nHe is astonished and his face is covered in awe. \"No, not at all. I had to put some money in the gas tank not too long ago but other than that she's pristine\"\n\nHenry slides on the black leather seat and straddles the chopper with an enormous feeling of empowerment.\n\nThe Older Gentleman reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys.\n\n\"Why don't you start her on up?\" he says with a smile. He tosses Henry the keys, which he catches and stares at for a moment.\n\nHenry puts the keys into the ignition, engages the kill switch and turns the key. It growls and roars like a pissed off dragon, leaving them both with grins that go from ear to ear. The vibration of the bike and Henry are one.\n\nThe Older Gentleman is talking, but Henry cannot hear him. He is euphoric.\n\nHe turns and finally notices the Older Gentleman trying to get his attention.\n\n\"She can growl cant she? She will get you wherever you need to go.\" He pauses looking around, \"Where are you going, if you don't mind me asking?\"\n\n\"Nowhere and everywhere.\"\n\nHe nods with approval. He knows exactly what Henry is talking about. \"Don't forget your helmet.\" He hands Henry a black Skull Half helmet. \"This will keep everything in your head. No one wants to see inside of that, except a doctor, maybe.\"\n\nHenry grabs the helmet, places it on his head and buckles the straps underneath his chin.\n\n\"You know, I have been here a long time, but I have never seen you before. Do you live here?\"\n\n\"No, I was never here.\"\n\nHenry kicks the kickstand and engages the clutch, puts it first gear and slowly releases the clutch. He is off down the street, speeding with the sun beating down on his back.\n\nHenry passes the drunken psychotic Holy Roller, who is walking along the clean sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground kicking rocks. No longer a preacher of and to the creatures; he has nothing to say.\n\nAs Henry continues down the straight path, the suns light gets brighter and brighter, like that of a million supernovas, until the city of Radcliffe is white, totally blocked by light.\n\nAn alarm goes off.\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### Through the Bible with Les Feldick, Book 46\n\nBy\n\nLes Feldick Ministries\n\nSMASHWORDS EDITION\n\n*****\n\nPUBLISHED BY:\n\nLes Feldick Ministries on Smashwords\n\nThrough the Bible with Les Feldick, Book 46\n\nCopyright © 2015 by Les Feldick Ministries\n\nISBN: 9781310411472\n\nwww.lesfeldick.org\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nDUE TO FORMATTING COMPLICATIONS, ALL BOLD, ITALICS, AND UNDERLINE TEXT READS AS NORMAL FONT IN THESE FREE EBOOKS. OUR APOLOGIES. —LES FELDICK MINISTRIES\n\nAll rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.\n\nDEDICATION:\n\nThis eBook is dedicated to the Lord—Jesus Christ!\n\nMay He save many through these lessons!\n\n### Through the Bible with Les Feldick, Book 46\n\nLESSON ONE * PART I\n\nWhy Hebrews Was Written\n\nHebrews 1:1 – 10\n\nToday we're going to start in the Book of Hebrews. It was 6 years ago that we started teaching Paul's letters? We've been totally in Paul's epistles now for a long time, and in the last lesson we finished up with Timothy and Titus. Now I think Hebrews also is an epistle of Paul, although it is not directed to the Gentiles or the Church, but rather it's directed to Jewish believers. There has always been a lot of controversy over this letter as to its authorship, and as to its time of writing and so forth. And again I'm not a theologian, so I don't have to get hung up on any of these big heavyweight arguments. I just tell you what I think it is, and I believe the Apostle Paul is definitely the author of the Book of Hebrews, and I'll show you in a few moments why I'm quite adamant about that.\n\nSecondly, I've always felt that it was one of his earlier letters, if not the earliest. I read something this past week confirming that, and that is in some of the earliest or ancient manuscripts of our New Testament, the Book of Hebrews followed I and II Thessalonians. Now everyone is pretty much agreed that the Thessalonians letters were the first of Paul's writings, and so if Hebrews in the ancient manuscripts followed Thessalonians, then that falls right in line with what I've always thought, that it is one of his earliest letters.\n\nAnother thing I think we have to realize now as we get into Hebrews, is that there is absolutely nothing of Church language. In other words, you won't find a Roman road to Salvation in Hebrews. There is not a Hebrews road to Salvation, so, \"What's the theme of the Book?\" The theme of the Book of Hebrews is twofold.\n\n1. We're showing a constant comparison of how this economy now under Grace is so much better than anything that went before. And we'll be looking for that over and over throughout this Book. We'll see this is better! Yes, the law was good, but this is so much better.\n\n2. More preeminent in importance is that Hebrews is going to point out Who Jesus Christ really is. He is God the Son, and we'll emphasize that as well as we go through this letter.\n\nSo those are some of the things that we want to use as an introduction to this tremendous letter to the Hebrews, that it is not a book of Church doctrine, as you won't find a single word in here about Salvation based on Christ's death, burial and resurrection, or any reference to the Body of Christ, or any reference to faith + nothing as we see so often in Romans. Nor is it a Book of corrections and admonitions like the Book of Galatians is. So it's just totally different. In fact, I'm going to compare this letter to the Hebrews with the Old Testament, and that's the way I'm going to treat it.\n\nRemember when I taught about the tabernacle, I pointed out that everything back there in Exodus that described the tabernacle—the gold, the silver, the brass, the wood, the linen, the purples, the red, and white, every jot and tittle of the tabernacle—was a picture of one way or other of Jesus Christ. Well the Book of Hebrews is going to do the same thing. It's going to just show us what a tremendous important personage Jesus Christ really is. Remember over the years, I've referred to a gentlemen who came up to my ranch house one day, and asked the question, \"Who in the world is Jesus Christ?\" Well Hebrews is going to point it out very clearly.\n\nNow I said in the beginning of my remarks that I was quite confident that the Apostle Paul wrote this letter to the Hebrews, and I use a comment from II Peter chapter 3 to prove that. We have to do everything as much according to the Book as we possibly can. I told someone on the phone the other day that had a question about something, that you have to remember, the Bible doesn't tell us everything we'd like to know. \"But the Bible does tell us everything that we need to know.\" So there are areas where we just simply have to say, \"Well the Bible doesn't tell us,\" and let it go at that.\n\nBut here in II Peter I think we have ample proof from the pen of the Apostle Peter writing to the Jewish community just shortly before he is martyred. Remember they're both martyred close to the same time. I use these verses so often to emphasize Paul's apostleship, but now I'm going to use them to emphasize Paul's authorship of the letter of Hebrews.\n\nII Peter 3:15\n\n\"And account (or understand) that the long suffering of our Lord is salvation, even as our beloved brother Paul also according to the wisdom given unto him hath written unto you;\" Let's qualify who are the \"you\" that Peter is addressing. Well come back to I Peter chapter 1, and there we see very plainly that Peter is writing to Jews, not Gentiles, not even a mixture of each. He is writing to Jews of the dispersion.\n\nI Peter 1:1\n\n\"Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia.\"\n\nSo who is he addressing? Jews of the dispersion who had already been scattered away from their home area of Jerusalem and Judea. So now coming back to II Peter chapter 3, let's finish our thought. Peter is letting them know that these people to whom he is writing had received a letter from the Apostle Paul. I read an article again the other day that all the Church fathers never were aware of any other letter that Peter could have been alluding to. This is the only one. I think it just makes all the proof in the world. Verse 15 again.\n\nII Peter 3:15\n\n\"And account that the longsuffering of our Lord is salvation; even as our beloved brother Paul also according to the wisdom given unto him hath written unto you;\" (Jews) Then you go into the next verse, and if anyone is tempted to feel that Paul's writings do not belong in our Bible, then here is proof by the writing of the Apostle Peter, inspired by the Holy Spirit, like any other writer of Scripture, that Paul's letters are all Scripture.\n\nII Peter 3:16\n\n\"As also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things; (these things which pertain to Salvation up there in verse 15) in which are some things hard to be understood, (even Peter at his late date had a very hard time comprehending these doctrines of Grace that had come from the Apostle Paul's pen, but nevertheless, he is still agreeing, that) which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other scriptures, unto their own destruction.\"\n\nNow when you say the other Scriptures, after talking about Paul, what does it make them all? Scripture! So Paul's letters, even by the inspiration of Peter's pen, are still all Scripture. So if anyone ever tells you, \"Well I don't think much of Paul's writing,\" then you just take them right to these verses. This is as plain as it can get that Paul was just as much a writer of the Word of God as Moses, Isaiah, or John, Peter or anyone else.\n\nNow back to Hebrews chapter 1, and we find then that this letter was definitely written by the Apostle Paul, probably early on in his ministry, and the reason I say early on—let's go to Romans 1:16, and that will confirm why I feel that this Hebrew letter had to be written before many of his other epistles.\n\nRomans 1:16\n\n\"For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it (the Gospel) is the power (remember this word power, because we'll be referring to it as we teach. For this Gospel) of God unto salvation to every one that believeth;(now what is the process?) to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.\"\n\nNow wouldn't it also make sense then, that it would be the same order in his epistles? He's going to write an epistle to the Jews first, then epistles to the Gentiles. So now when you come back to Hebrews chapter 1, we probably won't get further than the first word in this lesson. And what is the first word?\n\nHebrews 1:1a\n\n\"God,...\" G-O-D, just exactly like the way Genesis begins. Well let's go back to Genesis and compare Scripture with Scripture. We're just going to take our time as we teach Hebrews, and it may take us as long as it did some of the other epistles of Paul. But here in Genesis chapter 1 we have the same terminology.\n\nGenesis 1:1a\n\n\"In the beginning God...\"\n\nDo you see that? Now back in Hebrews, written in Hebrew, this term God is Elohim, and Elohim in the Hebrew was a plural word. Elohim when used with a small \"e\" it was translated gods, with a reference to the pagan gods, and it was a plural term. So elohim is not singular, but rather plural. So it gives rise of course to what we call a Triune God. Now I'm not going to use the word Trinity, because the first thing people call and complain about is, \"Well the word Trinity isn't in the Bible.\" Well I know that, because it's a coined term, and one that everyone understands, so I won't use it to satisfy those folks. But Elohim is a plural term for the Triune Godhead. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. All three are co-equal, in that term Elohim, that Triune Godhead!\n\nNow this Godhead was all involved in creation, but when we get to the New Testament we find that the second Person of this Triune Godhead, \"God the Son\" steps outs and becomes then the Creator! We looked at those Scriptures when we taught from Genesis, and I guess we'd better do it even when I teach from Hebrews. So here in Genesis 1:1, the Triune God is reckoned as the Creator, but now jump up to John's gospel chapter 1, to see that God the Son was the One Who did the creating. So this Triune God designated the work of creation to the Communicator, and we see that here in John chapter 1.\n\nJohn 1:1\n\n\"In the beginning was the Word, (and what do you do with words? You communicate! That's the whole idea, that in the beginning there was a Person in the Godhead that would communicate. He would express thought, and things that happen) and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.\" So the Communicator, the Son, was no less than the Father, no more than the Spirit, because the Three were co-equal in the Godhead. So the Word was God! Now verse 3.\n\nJohn 1:3\n\n\"All things were made by him; (now I'm a stickler for grammar, and I'm always showing what modifies what? Well it says all things were made by him is referring to the Word up in verse 1) and without him was not any thing made that was made.\" Now to confirm that this is speaking of the Word, or Christ, or Jesus the Son, as we knew Him in the four gospel accounts, just drop down to verse 14.\n\nJohn 1:14a\n\n\"And the Word (this Communicator) was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,)...\" Now later on this afternoon we're going to look at this phrase \"the only begotten.\" But for now let's just let it sit for the time being.\n\nJohn 1:14b\n\n\"...full of grace and truth.\" Now that's the Word! If you'll come on over into Paul's writings over in Ephesians chapter 3, and we can drop right down to verse 9, and we'll see Paul also tells us the Son was the Creator. Remember the Scriptures all fit.\n\nEphesians 3:9\n\n\"And to make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery, which from the beginning of the world hath been hid in God, (the Triune God, but the same God) who created all things by Jesus Christ:\"\n\nDo you see how plain that is? Sure the Godhead was involved, all Three of them. The Elohim of Genesis 1:1. But the Son steps out and speaks the Word and communicates to the nothing that was there, and out came creation of the universe. Now let's come over to Colossians chapter 1, where Paul makes it even so much plainer. And let's just drop in at verse 12, so we're sure who we're talking about. And Paul writes:\n\nColossians 1:12 – 15a\n\n\"Giving thanks unto the Father, which hath made us meet (or prepared us) to partakers of the inheritance (we'll be looking at that word also in Hebrews) of the saints in light: 13. Who (speaking of God the Father) hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath (already) translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son: (we'll also chase that word down from Genesis through Scripture, the word Son after a while) 14. In whom (that is in the Son) we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins: (now here comes the part about creation) 15. Who (speaking of the Son) is the image of the invisible God,\"\n\nNow what does that mean? This Triune Godhead of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit was never visible. The Godhead was an invisible Spirit, and it operated in the invisible. But when the time came it was God the Son Who stepped out and became then the visible manifestation of all three. That's why in John 14, when Philip said, \"Show us the Father and it suffice us.\" What did Jesus say to Philip? \"If you've seen me, you've seen the Father!\" Why? Because Jesus was the manifestation of the invisible Godhead. Now read on in verse 15.\n\nColossians 1:15 – 16\n\n\"Who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature: (He was before anything was ever created. He comes from eternity past) 16. For by him (God the Son) were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him:\" Everything was created by and for Him. Now verse 17. He is still the controlling power, even after His work of the cross, and having been risen from the dead. He is the all powerful God.\n\nColossians 1:17\n\n\"And he is before all things, and by him all things consist.\"\n\nAnd consist means, \"held together.\" My, the world today knows nothing of this. For the average citizen of this world, Jesus Christ is just a cuss word. He's just somebody to blaspheme, He's someone to ridicule, but oh, one day, the world is going to stand before Him and they're going drop to their immortal knees, and they're going to recognize that He was indeed the Creator of everything—never lose sight of that!\n\nBut even Revelation says, \"Jesus Christ was the Creator of everything.\" I can never emphasize that enough because so few people realize it. My, I've had people write and tell me, that they had been in church all their lives—many who had been Sunday school teachers for over 20 years—and they never knew that these verses were in their Bible. But here they are just as plain as day. Listen, this is what makes our Gospel of Salvation head and shoulders above any religion in the whole wide world. There is not a religion on this planet that has the Creator God as their Saviour as we have. That's why we can express this with so much confidence. We're not putting our faith in some dead God, or some idol. We're not putting our faith in some far flung philosophy, but rather we're putting our faith in the visible manifestation of the invisible God. And one day we're going to see Him face to face, and we're going to be with Him the Scriptures say, for all eternity.\n\nI've made reference to this before; it's amazing how the world will just gather by the millions to get just a glimpse of some famous world personality, whether he be a politician, religious leader, or athlete or whatever, and will just about do anything to get just a little glimpse, and then they use this Person, our Lord and Saviour, as an object of ridicule. They use the Creator of everything as a cuss word, and it is so disheartening, for those of us who believe. And we can see from the Word of God that God the Son stepped out of the invisible Godhead because then the Communicator to whatever it took to bring all the things of the universe into being. So reading all of verse 1 in Hebrews chapter 1.\n\nHebrews 1:1\n\n\"God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets.\"\n\nSo in our next lesson, we're going to take a look at why Paul admonishes us to study the Old Testament. It's just like the Book of Hebrews, there's not a Roman Road to Salvation in the Old Testament. There's not a plan of Salvation for us in the Old Testament, there's nothing of the Gospel of Grace in the Old Testament—but we study it, and we rest on it because it's the building block that God has laid down just like a secular education. My, I've used this example many times; how far would a young person get if all of a sudden without any previous education in grade school or high school, you plunk him down in a calculus class at the university? How long would he last? Not more than 5 minutes. Why? He has not had the building blocks of education.\n\nLESSON ONE * PART II\n\nWhy Hebrews Was Written\n\nHebrews 1:1 – 10\n\nWe started the last program in the Book of Hebrews, and I'm going to keep repeating some of these introductory remarks. So remember that Hebrews was written to Jewish people. Hopefully, most of them were believers, but also a lot of them were still on the fence; they just couldn't turn their back on Judaism, and the Law. They were also probably having some problems understanding Who Jesus of Nazareth really was, and so this Book is written primarily to lift Who the Son really was and is in the overall working of God.\n\nAlso, remember, it's not a Book necessarily for Church doctrine, nor a Book where you will find the Gospel of Salvation. There are not admonitions to straighten up and come out of Law and legalism like you have for example in the Book of Galatians. There are not other stipulations for corrections in the Christian experience like you have in the Books of Corinthians. But rather this letter was uniquely written to these Jewish people who were having problems turning their backs on their past.\n\nSo now I think we're ready to go on into verse 2. In the last program we showed how that God, the Triune God, was the One Who was instrumental in everything that was created. But we also showed from the various Scriptures it was always God the Son Who was given credit for the actual calling forth of everything that was created. Now before we go into verse 2, let's go ahead and finish verse 1. We read it at the end of the last program, but I didn't make any comment.\n\nHebrews 1:1\n\n\"God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets.\"\n\nNow what's he referring to? The Old Testament! And before we go back for a moment to the Old Testament I want you to stop in Romans chapter 15, where I'm going to use a verse for the basis of teaching the Old Testament. Because like I've already said with regard to Hebrews, there's no plan of Salvation as such in the Old Testament. There's also no Church doctrine found in the Old Testament. It was a secret that God had not yet revealed. But that doesn't mean we throw the Old Testament away or ignore it. No, we study it and rest on it for this reason.\n\nRomans 15:4\n\n\"For whatsoever things were written aforetime (back in the Old Testament) were written for our learning,...\"\n\nRemember in our last program, I said, \"How in the world could you take a kid that had never had grade school arithmetic, nor high school math, and then all of a sudden have him attend a university level calculus class? Why he'd be lost immediately.\" Well it's not that much different with the Word of God. If you haven't got an understanding of how all of this came about, it's pretty hard to just step in and say, \"Yeah, I can believe that.\" But I don't think God expects that, so we use the Old Testament over and over as a background for our New Testament teachings. Now we're going to look at how the prophets spoke of these things.\n\nSo I'm going to take you all the way back to Genesis chapter 3, and we're just going to take a run up through the Old Testament as to how many times even the Old Testament writers made a reference to the Son. A lot of people think He's just a New Testament invention. No, No, No, God the Son was already evident throughout the Old Testament. This passage we're going to look at here in Genesis is right after Adam and Eve had partaken of the forbidden fruit, and they are now a fallen race. But God comes right back immediately with a promise of a redeemer. That of course is going to be in the Person of the Son. We always call this the beginning of that line of the Redeemer that will culminate with the coming of Jesus of Nazareth in Bethlehem.\n\nGenesis 3:15\n\n\"And I will put enmity between thee (Satan) and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; (which is a reference to Christ when you go to Galatians) it (the Seed of the woman) shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.\"\n\nWhich of course was a reference to God the Son at the crucifixion and resurrection—in particular defeated all the power of Satan. Now I'm going to bring you all the way up to Psalms chapter 2. Now this was written by David about 1000 B.C. And here I'm just going to use verse 7, because I just want to show how the Son has been constantly referred to all through our Bible. This is not just a New Testament thing, but rather it's all of Scripture.\n\nPsalms 2:7\n\n\"I will declare the decree: the LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee.\"\n\nLike I said in the last lesson we're going to look at that begotten part at a little later time this afternoon. So from Psalms chapter 2, I think we can go all the way up to Isaiah chapter 9, and we'll jump in at verse 6. Now remember this is a Bible study and we're not trying to lecture through these things, but rather we're just comparing Scripture with Scripture to see how God spoke of the Son even in the prophets.\n\nIsaiah 9:6a\n\n\"For unto us (Israel) a child is born, unto us (Israel) a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, (see how plain all of this is? The prophets are speaking of the Son in this way) The everlasting Father,...\"\n\nRemember I said in the last lesson, \"What did Philip ask in John 14? 'Show us the Father and it suffices us.'\" And what was Jesus answer? \"Philip, have you been so long time with me, and yet hast thou not known, if you've seen me, you've seen the Father.\" Well here it's laid out in the Old Testament, that God the Son would be called The Mighty God, The everlasting Father,\n\nIsaiah 9:6b\n\n\"... The Prince of Peace.\"\n\nWell now let's just go on up to the Book of Daniel chapter 7. Now of course we're looking at an end-time scenario, but nevertheless, it's still in the prophets, and it's still Old Testament.\n\nDaniel 7:13 – 14\n\n\"I saw in the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, and they brought him near before him. 14. And there was given him (the Son)dominion and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages should serve him: his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that which shall not be destroyed.\"\n\nNow then, let's just come on up into Matthew chapter 1. And as you know, I look at the Four Gospels of course as an extension of the Old Testament. Because it's still all Jewish, it's still under the Law, and we're going to show the same thing, even in the Four Gospels.\n\nMatthew 1:23\n\n\"Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.\" Now let's see how Luke chapter 1, treats it. Oh, my goodness, I don't even know where to come in. I guess we'll start with verse 30.\n\nLuke 1:30 – 31\n\n\"And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. 31. And behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.\" Now come on down to the last part of verse 35.\n\nLuke 1:35b\n\n\"The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.\"\n\nSo you see this is all part and parcel of the theme of Scripture introducing us to the Son. Now in fulfillment of what we just read in Genesis 3:15, let's go to Paul's Book of Galatians chapter 4, and look at verse 4. Now I hope this isn't just an exercise in futility, I hope you're seeing how the theme all the way from Genesis has been introducing us to this Person of the Godhead that is called the Son.\n\nGalatians 4:4\n\n\"But when the fullness of the time was come, God (the Triune God) sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law.\"\n\nWhat did He send forth? His Son, and He was made under the Law of Moses. Well I guess we could even look at some other verses, even in Paul's writings, but this is how the Old Testament and the Four Gospel accounts, as well as Paul's letters, are referring to this Person of the Godhead then, that we have to lift up as the Son. The Son is unique in that role of the Godhead. Now I'm going to take you on into verse 2 of Hebrews chapter 1. The same God, the same Triune Father, Son, and Spirit that spoke to the fathers concerning the Son:\n\nHebrews 1:2a\n\n\"Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son,...\"\n\nNow I'm going to throw a curve at you. The first time I read that verse sometime ago, I couldn't quite fathom it. And it will take a long time to really have an impact on you. But in that verse 2, the word \"his\" has been added by the translators, have you noticed that? I never did for years and years. That word \"his\" is not in the original, and neither is there an article in the Greek, so the Greek reads like this.\n\nHebrews 1:2a\n\n\"Hath in these last days spoken unto us by Son,...\"\n\nYou'll probably say, \"Now that doesn't sound right.\" Well it does after you really start thinking about it. Because you see, Son by itself can be a title. How many fathers haven't you heard instead of calling their son by his first name, what do they call him? \"Come on son, let's do this or that.\" Son becomes his title, and that's the way I'm beginning to look at this.\n\nHebrews 1:2a\n\n\"Hath in these last days spoken unto us by Son,...\"\n\nThe title! And the emphasis has to be just the way I'm putting it. Now let's go back and see if we can pick up a little bit by that. So come all the way back to the Book of Acts, when Christ was dealing with the Apostle Paul. I think a good place would be Acts chapter 22.\n\nAnd while you're looking that up I'm going to put something on the board about another phrase in that verse, concerning \"the last days.\" This usually shakes up people also. When the Scripture speaks of the last days, we're speaking of His first advent. The three years of His earthly ministry, His crucifixion, His burial, His resurrection, and His ascension back to glory, as you see in Psalm 110:1. So all of that which took place in that first advent is considered in Scripture as \"the last days.\"\n\nNow I know that sounds confusing at first, but you see this is the only thing that the Old Testament looked forward to, that, after His ascension, then would come the 7 years of Tribulation, and then He would return and set up His Kingdom. So, this first advent then according to the Old Testament accounts, was the last days. Also remember that Paul is in this last days period of time. It was just a matter of years from the crucifixion until he begins his ministry. So Paul, too, is considered part of the last days, because they had no idea that there would be 1900 + years of the Church Age. That was completely unknown to the Old Testament writers. So they just spoke of it over and over as the \"last days.\"\n\nNow here's where I think we can jump in now and see various ways that the Son spoke now in these last days. Paul has now been out among the Gentile world, establishing his little congregations of Gentile believers, and has come back to Jerusalem, and he's always having a heavy heart for his kinsmen according to the flesh, the Jewish people. Here again Paul goes before this great multitude of Jews to try to convince them that he wasn't just a renegade, he wasn't an imposter to the truth, he wasn't a heretic, but rather he was proclaiming everything that the Old Testament had prophesied, and that Christ had fulfilled. So he comes back to Jerusalem, and he's in the Temple. Now verse 17.\n\nActs 22:17 – 21\n\n\"And it came to pass, that, when I was come again to Jerusalem, even while I prayed in the temple, I was in a trance; 18. And saw him (the Son, the ascended Lord) saying unto me, Make haste, and get thee quickly out of Jerusalem; for they will not receive thy testimony concerning me. 19. And I said, Lord, they know that I imprisoned and beat in every synagogue them that believed on thee: 20. And when the blood of thy martyr Stephen was shed, I also was standing by, and consenting unto his death, and kept the raiment of them that slew him. 21. And he said unto me, Depart: for I will send thee far hence unto the Gentiles.\"\n\nNow this was unheard of! A lot of people just can't get that through their heads, and I know they can't. They can't believe that Jesus never had a ministry to the Gentiles. Someone was just sharing with me that in their Sunday school material last week, there was something about Jesus going to Gentiles. No He didn't go to Gentiles, and He was careful that He never did, except in those 2 exceptions, because this mission was left to the Apostle Paul to take care of. So from the words of the Son, what did He say?\n\nActs 22:21b\n\n\"...Depart: for I will send thee far hence unto the Gentiles.\"\n\nThat was totally unheard of, that was a whole new beginning. Now let's come on over to the Book of Galatians chapter 1, and let's just jump in at verse 11.\n\nGalatians 1:11 – 12\n\n\"But I certify you, brethren, that the gospel which was preached of me is not after man. 12. For I neither received it of man, neither was I taught it, (by man) but by the revelation of Jesus Christ.\"\n\nWhat does that mean? The Son spoke to the Apostle Paul. The Son was not speaking through the prophets, but rather through this apostle. And it is the Son Who is now speaking. Now come on over to the Book of Colossians chapter 2, and to pick up the flow, let's pick up at verse 8. Now remember as Peter admonished us, that the Apostle Paul's writing is Scripture, it's the Word of God. And you can just sink your teeth into it and rest on it. So Paul writes:\n\nColossians 2:8 – 9\n\n\"Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ. 9. For in him (in Christ, in the Son) dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily.\"\n\nIsn't that amazing? And oh, that's hard for people to see. How can it be? Because He was manifested in the flesh as God, and He went to the cross as God. How many people realize that the hill on which He was crucified was of His creation? How many people realize that the wood of the cross on which He was nailed, He created that tree. How about the Romans that drove the spikes, He created them. He's the Creator of everything, and oh it's so hard for people to see this, and yet He has spoken from that ascended place in glory now through this apostle, who is lifting Him up in the Book of Hebrews now as \"Son.\"\n\nNow coming back to Hebrews chapter 1 for just a little bit. So this same God that spoke in the Old Testament, this same God is now speaking through \"Son,\" His title. And we have to understand Who He is. He's not just the carpenter's son, He's not just Someone Who was martyred, He's not Someone Who simply wasted His life and was crucified, but rather He was the Eternal Creator, Son! And in another lesson we're going to see how that when He was raised from the dead, He just literally exploded with power, the likes of which the universe has never seen. Even the power of creation does not compare with the power of His resurrection. And oh, let's never lose sight of that. Now let's just finish the program in verse 2. So this same God Who spoke through the Old Testament prophets:\n\nHebrews 1:2a\n\n\"Hath in these last days...\"\n\nWith Christ's first advent, His suffering, His death, His burial, His resurrection, and His ascension is the One Who is speaking us today!\n\nLESSON ONE * PART III\n\nWhy Hebrews Was Written\n\nHebrews 1:1 – 10\n\nNow as most of you know we're just hopefully a teaching ministry. It's amazing how simple the Word of God really is. It's not all that difficult, if you just simply follow the Scripture as it unfolds, and don't let tradition sway you. Now we're going to begin again in Hebrews chapter 1, and we're still in verse 2.\n\nHebrews 1:2a\n\n\"Hath in these last days (that is the period of Christ's first advent. Those were the last days according to all the Old Testament prophecies) spoken unto us by his Son, (remember there is no \"his\" in the original as we spoke of in the previous lesson. So it should read, Hath in these last days spoken unto us by) Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things,...\"\n\nNow just stop for a moment. I think we're all guilty of just reading so fast, that we don't read. What does it mean to be appointed heir? Well, they get everything. You know we like to read of the heir of some wealthy corporation, or the Vanderbilt family, or the Rockefeller's and we'll read of their great wealth, and it always says, \"They're the heir of so and so fortune.\" So we're well acquainted to what it is to be an heir, but you see the Triune God again, the Father, Son, and the Spirit, have in unison made the Son the Heir of everything. Now let's go back to the Book of Philippians chapter 2, and this again says it all in a different light than even Hebrews.\n\nI'm going to keep stressing that Hebrews is written with the idea of showing the Jewish people that Jesus of Nazareth was not just a martyr. He was not just a prophet, but rather He was God the Son! He was the Creator of everything. So here in Philippians chapter 2, Paul, I think covers the whole realm of Christ's coming and what He accomplished. Verse 5:\n\nPhilippians 2:5\n\n\"Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: 6. Who, being in the form of God,...\" Remember what the Scripture says in John 1:1?\n\nJohn 1:1\n\n\"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.\" So this same Jesus, the Word in John 1:2, the Christ:\n\nPhilippians 2:6 – 7\n\n\"Who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery (or it wasn't anything that He was doing that wasn't appropriate) to be equal with God: 7. But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, (or a bond slave is a better term) and was made in the likeness of men:\" He was made in the likeness of men as he was born of the virgin Mary, but always remember He was still God. We're going to be showing that as we go further in Hebrews. He never stopped for a moment being part of that Godhead. Now verse 8:\n\nPhilippians 2:8\n\n\"And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, (Rome didn't humble Him, the Jewish leaders didn't humble Him, but rather He humbled Himself,) and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.\"\n\nNow, we all have our pet ideas of how we can picture some of these things, but the one that is freshest on my mind, is when they were in the Garden of Gethsemane, and when Peter finally saw what they were trying to do to his Lord, what does Peter do? Well he draws his sword that he was carrying, and cuts off the ear of the servant of the high priest who name was Malchus. Well was that in agreement in the mind of Christ? No the Lord wasn't fighting to protect Himself, and to show Peter how completely wrong he was, the Lord put Malchus' ear back on miraculously. And it was only to show Peter, \"Listen, we're not fighting against this with weapons. I'm not trying to avoid the cross.\" So He became obedient, and as He said Himself He could have called down 12 legions of angels, and they would have come to His rescue, but He chose not to.\n\nPhilippians 2:8b – 9a\n\n\"...and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. (but don't stop there.) 9. Wherefore (because of His total obedience to the plan of the Triune God,) God also hath highly exalted him,...\" Now I'll let you enlarge on the word exalt. What does it mean? I mean it's to give Him all the praise that is His due. God Himself has exalted Him.\n\nPhilippians 2:9b\n\n\"...and given him a name which is above every name:\" There's not a name that has ever been on the planet that came even close to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Now verse 10, and this is going to be the final fruition of everything.\n\nPhilippians 2:10a\n\n\"That at the name of Jesus every knee...\" The Hitlers, the Mussolini's, the Stalin's, the Napoleon's, you name it, every one of them is going to stand before Him, fall on their knees, and recognize Who He is.\n\nPhilippians 2:10 – 11\n\n\"That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth. 11. And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.\"\n\nNow where it comes to heir-ship we can't leave out our own role. We as believers are also called heirs, and we'll find that in Romans chapter 8. My, this should be enough to inflate everyone of us to where it's almost hard for us to stay earth bound, because this is our prospect. This is what's coming! This is why Paul says, \"suffering is nothing compared to the glory that will be revealed to us.\"\n\nRomans 8:16 – 17a\n\n\"The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: (you don't have to wonder if you are one of God's children if you have believed Paul's Gospel in your heart for Salvation) 17. And if children, then heirs; (just like in an earthly family. The child is the heir of all of the father's wealth. So we're) heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ;...\"\n\nNow I know that's unbelievable, but that's the prospect. Christ is the heir of everything that's ever been created or ever will be, and we in turn are joint-heirs with Him. My, isn't that enough to just shun the things of this world for a little while? And the world thinks we're missing it. Well, I've got news for them, we're not missing anything, but rather they are. They're missing everything, because the world is nothing but a pigpen by comparison to the glory that will be revealed to us.\n\nRomans 8:17b\n\n\"...if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. 18 For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.\"\n\nNow let's come back to Hebrews again to chapter 1. I was just talking with someone the other day that said the Bible doesn't tell us a lot of information on our eternal state. We really don't know how we're going to function or what we're going to be doing. Oh, we can speculate, but we just really don't know; but what do we know? It is going to be so fabulous that language could never express it. It is going to be so glorious, and so pleasurable and it will be for all eternity. Not just for 70 or 80 years, but for eternity. So God:\n\nHebrews 1:2\n\n\"Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, (we covered the last part of the verse in our first program) whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds;\" Our Lord Jesus Christ created everything! Now let's move on into verse 3. And what a loaded verse:\n\nHebrews 1:3a\n\n\"Who (speaking of Son) being the brightness of his glory,...\"\n\nWhose glory? The Godhead. The whole Triune God! Now we got just a little glimpse of that back in Matthew chapter 17 so let's look at it. This is just a little window that God gives us from time to time. But this little glimpse should be enough to make our hearts leap, because we're going to be partakers of this in the full one day. And we think we're getting close to that day. My lands when I read and when I hear what's going on today, it just can't be much longer. The technology that is exploding so far even as the military is concerned. Why it would be enough to make the masses panic I would think, if they knew what our military already has. Not just on wishful thinking, but what they already have.\n\nThen I was reading an article yesterday about the gross, vulgar, immorality among our 12 and 14 year-old school kids. It just scares you to your socks what's coming—but on the other hand it encourages us that, as believers, one day soon we will get a full view of this glory. Not just a glimpse of it, but rather we've going to be in it. Here is just that little window in Matthew chapter 17.\n\nMatthew 17:1 – 2\n\n\"And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John his brother, and bringeth them up unto an high mountain apart, (from all the rest of the activity. Even from the other nine) 2. And (Jesus) was transfigured before them: and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light.\"\n\nNow look, we can't look on the sun without being blinded. And I imagine that somehow or other the three were protected from it, or they too would have been blinded as Saul of Tarsus was on the road to Damascus. But here He was transfigured before, and suddenly that lowly Jesus of Nazareth Who had been walking those dusty roads of the Nation of Israel is transfigured. And He does shine like the sun, and his raiment was white as the light.\n\nNow again, we can't comprehend the brightness of that kind of light. Now you all know of the experience of Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus. I think it was that same light that just literally blinded him, and scarred his eyes when he was confronted with that light from the Person of the Son. Now coming back to Hebrews chapter 1. So the Son, the One Who had walked the earth, had humbled Himself to be crucified and slain, and as He said on the cross, \"It is finished!\" And nothing else can be added to it. Nobody can put their fingers to the work that Christ accomplished, because it's all done.\n\nHebrews 1:3a\n\n\"Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person,...\" Now I think sometimes people get the wrong idea from Genesis where it says, \"God created man in His image.\" Now you want to remember at the time of the creation, God had never appeared in human form so far as we know from Scripture. But rather He was Spirit! So He didn't create Adam in likeness of a physical body that the Godhead had, because they didn't have one, as they were Spirit. So when it says, \"Adam was created in God's image,\" it merely meant \"in the person of the personality. In His mind, will, and emotion.\" That's where Adam was in God's image.\n\nAnd as I pointed out when I taught back in Genesis, how many of those three entities can anyone of us see? None of them! Nobody can take a mind and lay it on an examining table, and look at it. It can't be done, because it's invisible. Nobody can take your will and examine it, as it's impossible. Why? It's invisible. Nobody can take the seat of our emotion and lay it out to be examined, because it, too, is invisible. And yet those are the three things that God is made up of, as well as His created beings.\n\nAgain when we taught back in Genesis I mentioned more than once, go through the Scriptures and you'll find that God the Father has mind, will and emotions. God the Spirit also has mind, will and emotions. And we know God the Son has mind, will, and emotions. And that's what makes them three distinct Personalities. But you can't examine anyone of those three. So man was literally created an invisible creation, patterned after the invisible Spirit God. But in order for man to function in creation, we know God put the invisible man into a visible body.\n\nAnd that had to be, because all of creation in basic science, is again made up of three things. \"Matter, time, and space!\" Take any one of those away and you don't have a universe. It's just plain and simple isn't it. Matter—a star, a moon, a person. We are matter moving through time, in space, and that's creation! So God took this invisible part of us and placed it in a body. And the same way with Himself. When He came and He placed that Spirit being, the very mind, will, and emotion of the Son in a body, He became then the visible manifestation of the invisible God. This is why we maintain then that the human being is eternal, whether he is lost or saved, he's going to live some place for eternity, because God's eternal, and man was created in God's image, in sphere of the eternal.\n\nHebrews 1:3a\n\n\"(The Son) Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power,...\"\n\nNow we won't go back and look up Colossians again, but you remember in the first program when we were in Colossians chapter 1, where it said, \"And he is before all things, and by him all things consist.\" Everything in the universe is held together by the power of the Word of Christ! And if He should ever relinquish that power, the universe would go into fission, and would utterly be burned up, which will probably happen one day, just before we get the new heaven and new earth. But nevertheless, everything is held in control by the Word of Christ's power. Now reading on in verse 3. And when was that power exercised?\n\nHebrews 1:3b\n\n\"...when he had by himself purged our sins,...\" And where did He purge our sins? On the cross, and in resurrection power. See, we can't just stop at the cross, like so many do. But the cross by itself did not finish the work of redemption. Now that paid the sin debt, of course it did, but the power of it all was never released until He arose from the dead, three days and three nights later. Now I guess I could tie this in together if I went ahead and skipped over to verse 5 here in Hebrews, so let's look at it. I wasn't planning on doing it this way, but with this word 'power' I think it's appropriate.\n\nHebrews 1:5\n\n\"For unto which of the angels said he (God) at any time, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee?\" That's never been spoken to anybody but the Son. Now, come back to Psalm chapter 2, and I think I made reference to this in the first program. We have to realize and understand that all the power of the Godhead was released when God raised Christ from the dead. And let's just begin at verse 7.\n\nPsalm 2:7\n\n\"I will declare the decree: the LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee.\" Let's go to Acts, chapter 13, and that's where we have to let Scripture speak. Here Paul is speaking there in Antioch, and he's in the synagogue, and he is preaching to a synagogue full of Jews, so he's going to use a lot of the Old Testament.\n\nActs 13:32 – 33\n\n\"And we declare unto you glad tidings, how that the promise which was made unto the father, (through the prophets) 33. God hath fulfilled the same unto us their children, in that he hath raised up Jesus again; as it is also written in the second psalm, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee.\" Now here is where we get the Scriptural definition of the only begotten Son of God.\n\nActs 13:34\n\n\"And as concerning that (begotten in verse 33) he raised him up from the dead, now no more to return to corruption, he said on this wise, I will give you the sure mercies of David.\" Now go to Romans chapter 1 for more follow up. And this is all with regard to the term \"The only begotten Son of God.\" It wasn't when He was born in Bethlehem. Listen, that was not the result of a sire having a reproduction. The only begotten Son was when He was raised from the dead.\n\nRomans 1:3 – 4\n\n\"Concerning his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of David according to the flesh; (here it comes in verse 4). And declared to be the Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness, (and how was that power executed?) by the resurrection from the dead:\"\n\nAlways remember when Paul speaks of the power of God unto Salvation, what is he referring to? The power of His resurrection! At that time, Christ overcame all the forces of Satan, and He became the epitome of the Creator God, and it was that power that lifted us out of our deadness, and out of our sins, and that's why we have to use His resurrection as part and parcel of our Gospel!\n\nRomans 10:9\n\n\"That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.\n\nLESSON ONE * PART IV\n\nWhy Hebrews Was Written\n\nHebrews 1:1 – 10\n\nNow as we begin this study, we're going to finish verse 3 before we go on, and we were in the very last part of the verse when we had to stop in the last lesson. But let's read the complete verse.\n\nHebrews 1:3\n\n\"Who (speaking of the Son in verse 2) being the brightness of his glory, (something that is beyond our understanding.) and the express image of his person, (and as we saw in the Book of Colossians, He is the visible manifestation of the invisible God) and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, (had finished the work of the cross, His death, His shed blood, His burial, and His resurrection. and when He had finished the work of the cross, He) sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high;\"\n\nNow I'm always reminding people not to carry your imagination too far. Don't just picture Jesus Christ as sitting there on a little chair, and God the Father up here on a big fancy throne, because that's not exactly what we're supposed to realize. Remember, as the priest of Israel, back in the Old Testament economy, they never sat down. There were no chairs in the Tabernacle or the Temple. Their work went continually without ever sitting down, because it was an endless job to be constantly interceding for the sins of Israel. It was simply unending! But you see, when Christ finished the work of the cross, it meant that His priesthood had also ended, and so He could sit down, and that's what you have to understand. It's a symbolic thing more than anything else that His work of redemption and work of intercession was now finished.\n\nThat's why I'm almost screaming that Salvation is by faith, and faith alone in that finished work of the cross. Listen, you can't add to it, and you can't take away from it. See that's why Paul puts such an anathema on those who would adulterate the Gospel of Salvation, by adding something that we might consider harmless in some of the deeds of the Law. But Paul says, \"If you're going adulterate my Gospel, then you're under the anathema of God.\" And why not, because He had finished it completely. He suffered, He died, He shed His blood, and He arose from the dead. So how in the world can men dare to add to that for Salvation? So here's the whole idea that He had finished it, He now presented Himself in heaven as our High Priest, and He could sit down, and He never again had to do the work of a priest. Now let's see what Paul says about it back in Ephesians chapter 1, and verse 20. And again, I'm going to come up to verse 19 because of that word \"power.\" Every time you see that word \"power,\" you just stop and read it slowly and digest it.\n\nEphesians 1:19\n\n\"And what is the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe, according to the working of his mighty power.\"\n\nThe only criteria for Salvation under Paul's Gospel is to believe it with all our hearts. That power is released when we believe. And it's according to the working of his mighty power, as we showed in the last program and that power was exercised at His resurrection.\n\nEphesians 1:20\n\n\"Which (that is the mighty power) he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead, (remember my closing remarks of Romans 1:4? What is it but that it was the power of God when he raised Christ from the dead? Here it is again.) and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places.\"\n\nIt was finished! No more priestly work needs to be done. It's all finished. And we are part and parcel of that power. Now his position at the Father's right hand is exemplified in verse 21.\n\nEphesians 1:21\n\n\"Far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, (and again I'll go back to the power above) and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come:\"\n\nAnd not only in this world, but even in all eternity to come. There will never be a name that will match the name of Christ, God's Son. Now let's come back to Hebrews once again. And so after finishing the work of redemption to which no man dare add a thing, he could sit down and proclaim that everything was done that needed to be done to bring about man's Salvation. Now let's go down to verse 4 and you remember when I introduced Hebrews I made the statement that throughout the book of Hebrews we're going to be running into a constant comparison of that which was good, but now we've got something far better. And here we have the first instance. God the Son having the finished the work of redemption, having set down at the Father's right hand:\n\nHebrews 1:4\n\n\"Being made so much better (underline that word \"better\" every time we come across it, and I think there will be 11 or 12 of them in the book of Hebrews.) than the angels, as he hath by inheritance (we covered that in the last program) obtained a more excellent name than they.\" Even the two crowning angels of Michael and Gabriel can't come close to the power and majesty of the Son, Jesus the Christ. Now verse 5 and here is the argument.\n\nHebrews 1:5a\n\n\"For unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee?....\"\n\nWe covered that in the last program, that the only begotten Son of God is a reference to His resurrection. Never to Bethlehem, because He was not a begotten, he was simply brought about by an act of God. It was not a procreation between a man and a woman, and God Himself overshadowed Mary and it was not an act of procreation. So that is not what begotten is talking about. The only begotten Son of God is His resurrection. Now verse 5.\n\nHebrews 1:5b\n\n\"....And again, I will be to him a Father, and he shall be to me a Son.\"\n\nNow again, that does not imply that God the Father was here first and then came God the Son and then the Spirit. No way!! They have been equal in all eternity passed. They are equal in everything, even today. And everything that was accomplished by Christ on the cross was also attributable to the glory of the Father. Now verse 6.\n\nHebrews 1:6\n\n\"And again, when he bringeth in the first begotten into the world (the Son) he saith, And let all the angels of God worship him.\"\n\nNow remember those verses in Philippians we looked at in our last program, when Christ left glory, was born of the virgin and became the Jesus of Nazareth in His earthly ministry, He never gave up His deity. Now He laid aside His glory, but He never stopped being God. And there is no room for argument. And so even though He did lower Himself below the angels in order to take on human flesh, yet in His power and in His majesty, He never stopped being God. Now that is the reason for His miracles. Why in the world when the Sea of Galilee was raging and billowing and the little ship was about to sink, and the disciples were all shook up and fearing for their lives, they went below and told the Lord, and what did He do? He merely stepped out and spoke and said, \"Peace be still.\" And just that quick everything was quiet. And what did the disciples say? \"What manner of man is this that even the wind and waves obey his voice?\" Well, they had a hard time, too, recognizing Who He really was.\n\nAnd so this is what we have to be constantly reminded of, that as He proved through His miracle working powers in His earthly ministry, He showed that He never stopped being God. And even though the angels were powerful and they had glory, yet it was nothing compared to His. Now verse 7 and this might answer some questions concerning us today.\n\nHebrews 1:7\n\n\"And of the angels he saith, Who maketh his angels spirits, and his ministers a flame of fire.\"\n\nThe question comes periodically, do we believe in angels? Well, of course I believe in angels because the Bible teaches them. Now, we do not have their manifestation in miraculous ways as we did in the past. They don't appear to us. In fact, I tell everybody when they talk about some of these things, what would we do today if you're driving home on a dark night and all of a sudden there would be 8 or 10 angels standing on the road? Have you ever thought about that? How would you handle it? I think it would drive most of us almost to the loony bin, wouldn't it? We're not ready for something like that. Angels haven't appeared in that form since almost the apostolic days and we're not supposed to be looking for angels. But, that doesn't mean we don't believe that they are real.\n\nI personally think that we probably have a guardian angel. I like to think that every one of us does. I can't prove it from Scripture. This is probably as close as you can get that angels are God's ministers of fire. And they watch over the believer. But that's as far as I can go with it. Paul teaches nothing concerning angels except that we're not to enter into it as a form of false worship. That's back in Colossians. We might as well go back and look at it so you'll know what I'm talking about. Come back with me to Colossians chapter 2 and verse 18. And this is about as close as Paul ever gets to teaching concerning angels. So we dare not go beyond what the Scriptures permits us to go.\n\nWe can certainly realize that they're God's ministers, they're spirit beings, and we like to think that they watch over us, especially the ones who believe. But on the other hand we have to be careful that we don't step into territory where we don't belong. Now let's look at Colossians chapter 2:18. Where Paul writes:\n\nColossians 2:18a\n\n\"Let no man beguile you of your reward in a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels,...\"\n\nSee there's the warning! Don't get enraptured with angels. Now the last few Christmases I think we have almost been deluged in our department stores with angels. Every place you look is angels, but I can't agree with that, because we're not to have that much doing with angels. So looking at that Scripture again:\n\nColossians 2:18\n\n\"Let no man beguile you of your reward in a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels, intruding into those things which he hath not seen, vainly puffed up by his fleshly mind,\"\n\nIt's a warning, so that's as far as I go concerning angels. Now the truth of them in the Old Testament economy, of course there were many instances. My, angels are part and parcel of the Old Testament. We know Jacob certainly saw the angels. We know the three angels came to Abraham's tent. We know the shepherds at the birth of Christ saw many angels. Peter had an angel release him from prison, and those are valid accounts, but when we get to the Church Age, Paul never teaches us anything concerning the activity of angels or demons.\n\nDo you realize that the Apostle Paul gives us absolutely no room, or instructions for casting out demons. I mean not a word! When I get a question concerning demons, I always tell people, \"Well lead that person to Christ, and that will take care of his demon problem!\" And folks that's as far as we can go, because we have no permission or commandment in this Age of Grace to practice exorcism. But we can bring that person to a knowledge of Salvation, and as the Holy Spirit comes into the life of that person at Salvation, the demonic things, if they're there, will leave.\n\nNow back to Hebrews chapter 1, and verse 8. Remember angels haven't obtained to this level, as great as they are, and as numerous as they are, and as powerful as they are, yet they never come close to the power of the Son!\n\nHebrews 1:8a\n\n\"But unto the Son he saith, Thy throne, O (what's the next word?) God, is for ever and ever:...\"\n\nI'll never understand how people can reject Christ the Son as God. Especially when they can look at verses like this and say, \"That isn't what it means,\" or \"I don't believe that.\" Well I have a hard time contemplating that. But to the Son, God Himself says:\"\n\nHebrews 18b\n\n\"Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever: a scepter of righteousness is the scepter of thy kingdom.\"\n\nAnd a scepter of course denoted kingship, or royalty. A scepter of righteousness is the scepter of thy kingdom, and He will be King over all. You know the verse in Revelation, so let's go back and look at it. Oh, the day is coming when this will take place. But also keep in mind that I'm always stressing that we in the Church Age do not address Him as our King. Christ is the Head of the Body of which we as believers are joint heirs with Him. Now that doesn't take away this which is in Revelation chapter 19 and verse 16. This is still future, and absolutely I believe it, but that doesn't mean He's the King over the Church tonight. But rather He's the Head of the Body which we are a direct inheritance of. We're joint-heirs with Christ, but look what Revelation says when He finally returns at His second coming.\n\nRevelation 19:16\n\n\"And he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS.\"\n\nNow that's the epitome of His title, and He's going to exercise that power over His Kingdom! And that's what the Psalmist is saying back here in Hebrews 1:8.\n\nHebrews 1:8\n\n\"But unto the Son he saith, Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever: a scepter of righteousness is the scepter of thy kingdom.\"\n\nThis 1000 year Kingdom that Christ will one day establish on the earth, where Israel will be the crowning Nation of the nations. Now verse 9. This is all to elevate our understanding of the Son.\n\nHebrews 1:9a\n\n\"Thou hast loved righteousness, and hated iniquity;...\" Now listen that's the mind of God, even for us under Grace. Don't ever think for a minute that God winks at iniquity, because God hates it! God hated it in the Old Testament economy. He hated it during His earthly ministry, but in Grace He is so willing to forgive, but that doesn't mean that He doesn't hate sin.\n\nHebrews 1:9\n\n\"Thou hast loved righteousness, and hated iniquity; therefore God (again the Triune God) even thy God, (in which the Son is a part) hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.\" Here again He has been exulted. And as God the Son, every knee will one day bow before Him. Now verse 10.\n\nHebrews 1:10\n\n\"And thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth; and the heavens are the works of thine hands:\"\n\nWhen I read verses like this, I can't help it, but I always have to run back to Job 38 and I just get such a thrill out of those two chapters because I hope I'm not doing Job an injustice, but I have to think that Job was full of pride. I mean, he was a good man, God had blessed him, he had wisdom, but I think he was proud, and I think this is why God was dealing with him. The reason I've come to this conclusion is the statements in Job 38. Now if I'm wrong I may someday have to admit to Job himself, but we know that Job had to be dealt with for some reason or other. Once he realized that he was nothing in God's eyes then God could restore him seven fold. But I think you'll see what I'm talking about here in Job 39. And let's start with verse 1.\n\nJob 38:1 – 2\n\n\"Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind, (now remember when we have the word \"LORD\" speaking in the Old Testament, it's God the Son, but in His Old Testament role, as He spoke to the prophets. But here He's speaking to Job.) and said, 2. Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?\"\n\nNow some would say, \"Well, He's referring to Job's friends.\" Well I don't think so. I think He's referring to Job, because he's proud and he thought he knew a lot. But you see, God is sort of putting Job in his place. So God says:\n\nJob 38:3\n\n\"Gird up now thy loins like a man; (in other words, let's see Job if you can take it, because I'm going to show you how much wisdom you don't have) for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me.\" See, God's not talking to Job's friends, but rather He's talking to Job. Now read on.\n\nJob 38:4a\n\n\"Where was thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?...\"\n\nIsn't that something? Could Job answer? He didn't know the first thing about it did he? He didn't know where the world came from and how it was hung in space.\n\nJob 38:4b\n\n\"...declare if thou hast understanding.\" Do you see where I'm getting the idea that the Lord is just pointing out Job's pride, that he had nothing to be proud of?\n\nJob 38:5a\n\n\"Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest?...\"\n\nMaybe most people don't read that like I do, but I read that like, \"Alright Job if you're so smart, tell me these things I'm asking\" And we know Job couldn't! And today God could do the same thing with the most brilliant scientists. God could confront them with things that even though we have such tremendous technology, God could put them on the spot and just make them sweat like a butcher, couldn't He?\" They wouldn't know the first thing He was talking about, so that's what He's doing here with Job. Now verse 7\n\nJob 38:7 – 8\n\n\"When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? (I can hear the Lord say, 'Where were you Job? Can you explain it?) 8. Or who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb?\" Then come all the way over to verse 22.\n\nJob 38:22a\n\n\"Hast thou entered into the treasures (or the secrets) of the snow?...\"\n\nWhat do you suppose God was talking about? That no two snowflakes are alike. \"Did you know that Job?\" So when you read about creation just go back and read Job chapters 38 and 39 and you'll get a pretty good inkling of the amount of knowledge that most people do not have concerning the miracle and power of creation. Now coming back to Hebrews in our closing seconds we realize that God the Son was the One who had all this knowledge that Job knew nothing of. Now let's read 10 again.\n\nHebrews 1:10 – 11a\n\n\"And Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth; and the heavens are the works of thine hands; 11. They shall perish; but thou remainest;...\" That's the Creator, that's the God whom we worship and serve!\n\nLESSON TWO * PART I\n\nThe Son's Glorious Creation\n\nHebrews 1:11 – 2:3\n\nIt might be a little bit rainy outside today, but you could never tell it in here. I mean, you all look like the very blossom of springtime, and we just thank you for putting forth the effort to be a part of this program. We always try to just teach the Word as we feel the Lord has opened it to us. Also, we feel that the Lord has put His stamp of approval on this ministry, by the countless numbers of letters and phone calls, and I guess the ones that thrill us the most are the ones that have found Salvation, and have come out of a life of darkness. And almost as exciting are the believers who, for the first time in their life, have dusted off that old Bible, and are studying it.\n\nNow let's go right back to where we left off in the last program, which was in Hebrews chapter 1, and we were down to verse 10. But I'm going to be periodically reminding our audience for the sake of those who may be just coming in, that the book of Hebrews, I feel is much more than a letter, but it was no doubt written by the Apostle Paul. He leaves his name off of it, and that's understandable because the Jews of his day just detested him, because they thought he had become a renegade to their race and religion, so I'm sure that's the reason he left his name off it. But I think the evidence is interior, as well as exterior that the Apostle Paul is the author of this book of Hebrews.\n\nAnd as usual we always like to remind our class and our audience that you always want to first and foremost \"determine to whom a portion of Scripture is addressed in its original setting.\" Now that does not mean that if it isn't addressed to us that we ignore it. I'm always coming back to the portion of Scripture that says, \"All Scripture is inspired of God.\" That means every word from Genesis 1:1 to Revelation 22:21 is inspired by the Holy Spirit. It's all the Word of God, and Paul says, \"It's profitable for reproof, and instruction in righteousness.\" But on the other hand we have to realize that some of the Scripture is not directed to us Gentiles, as such it was directed primarily to the Nation of Israel, so we always have to take those things into consideration.\n\nFor example when you start reading back there in the Old Testament some of the things pertaining to the sacrifices, and what those people had to do, well that doesn't apply to us directly. We merely read those things as Paul says in Romans chapter 15, for our learning. In fact let's look at that portion of Scripture. I think any time we study Old Testament and even the Four Gospels, and other portions of Scripture that were not written by the Apostle Paul, it's for our learning and not our doctrine. And so this is appropriate even for this book of Hebrews, because it, like the Old Testament, was addressed to the Hebrew people, and not specifically the Body of Christ. But it's still profitable, because it's the Word of God, and because it's the Word of God, there's lots of good things in it for our learning. So, I always like to use this verse to get the Apostle Paul's admonition for us to study the parts of Scripture that he didn't write. And look what he says:\n\nRomans 15:4a\n\n\"For whatsoever things were written aforetime (before he came along) were written for our learning,...\"\n\nNotice it says for learning not our doctrine! Like I said when we introduced Hebrews in our last taping, you won't find a Roman road to Salvation in the book of Hebrews, and you won't find a lot of the instructions for the Gentile Body of Christ in Hebrews, but it's loaded with things that enhance our learning. So now finishing this verse.\n\nRomans 15:4\n\n\"For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we (as Grace Age believers, we as predominately a Gentile called-out people), through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.\"\n\nNow, when I read this verse, the first Old Testament personality that comes to my mind is Joseph. That young man was hated by his brethren, sold into slavery, taken into a foreign country, and sold again as a slave, and even though he had come out pretty good (working for his Egyptian master), and you know the account of how his masters wife turned on Joseph, and accused him falsely, consequently, Joseph ends up in the dungeon. As near as I can figure it out he was down in that dungeon for 8 or 10 years. Now a lot of people would have given up hope, and would have said, \"Well, God has forgotten all about me,\" but Joseph didn't do that.\n\nAnd all of a sudden Joseph comes out of that dungeon and becomes the second man in Egypt, and why? Because, as he told his brethren when they finally came together in Egypt, \"You didn't do it, but rather God did.\" So that's where we can take comfort from the Scripture, that even when bad things happen, we know that God is in control. And sooner or later we're going to be able to look back on those bad things and see that God was in it as His purposes were being fulfilled. And I think that's exactly what this verse means. We go back to the Old Testament writers, and we can pick up all of these things that were written, not for our doctrine, as you won't find the plan of Salvation per se, but oh, we can see how God works in the lives of His people. So always keep that in mind even as study this book of Hebrews. The whole book of Hebrews is written primarily to Jewish people, to prove to them that this Jesus of Nazareth, whom most of them rejected in unbelief saying, \"Can anything good come out of Nazareth?\" And yet this book of Hebrews is proving that Christ, the Son of God, was better than anything that had come before. And as I've told you before, always look for that word \"better\" throughout the Book.\n\nWe saw that word \"better\" as we started in our study of Hebrews last week in verse 4, and we might look at that again. This is speaking of the One who purged our sins, and sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high:\n\nHebrews 1:4\n\n\"Being made so much better than the angels, as he hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they.\"\n\nSo we'll be looking for that word as we teach the book of Hebrews, how that the apostle is proving to these Jews, Who Jesus is. Even today we hear it constantly, when people have been ingrained in a cult, and you know the cults have a way of just simply brain washing people. And here people have been in a cult for maybe 40, 50, 60, or even 70 years, and then the Lord begins to show them the truth of this beautiful Gospel of Grace, and they begin to grasp it, but yet there is that constant nagging, that pull, with the thought, \"What if I was right and this is wrong?\" So most have that constant pull to go back into that which they had drummed into them for a lifetime.\n\nWell you see these people to whom Paul was writing were in that same set of circumstances. They've been steeped in Judaism since way back in the days of Moses. They've been in Judaism and Law-keeping as a nation of people throughout their whole lifetime, and now, to suddenly have this brought before them; that they were to turn their back on all that, because they're no longer under the Law, but that God the Son had now finished the work of redemption, and faith alone is all that's needed. So you can see where a change to that would be tough. Just watch for that flavor throughout the book of Hebrews. These Jews are trying to be pulled back into that, which up front, they can see is now behind them.\n\nSo the whole purpose of this first chapter is to show the glory and majesty, and the Godheadship of this Jesus of Nazareth Who we now call the Son. I think, as I pointed out in our last taping, in the first two verses of this chapter that we have to make people realize that Christ is not the Son of God by virtue of God siring Him, and bringing about His birth at Bethlehem. See, that's not what the term means at all, because the term is a place of preeminence. Father and Son and Holy Spirit are co-equal. So we'll be emphasizing that the Son is preeminent. He is God, and has been from eternity past, and will be into all eternity future. So today let's just pick up in verse 10 of Hebrews chapter 1 for just a little bit.\n\nHebrews 1:10\n\n\"And, Thou, Lord, (speaking to the Son) in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth; and the heavens are the works of thine hands:\"\n\nNow those of you who were with us in our last taping, will remember that in my closing few minutes of the program, I took you back to Job chapter 38, and we rehearsed how that God put Job on the spot, and said, \"Job where were you, when I laid the foundations of the world? Where were you when I confined the waters of the seas,\" and time ran out and we had to close. But now I'm going to carry you a little further into the Old Testament account in Psalms chapter 104, and I find it amazing how many times the writer of Hebrews uses the Psalms to back up what he's saying. Here we have another record of creation from David the Psalmist. Oh listen, I think every Christian ought to read this once a week and just be reminded of how great our God, our Christ, our Saviour, the Head of the Body, really is because He's the One that did it. We'll just look at a few of them, we won't take it verse by verse. So let's just start with verse 1. I mean this is just good reading.\n\nI got a kick out of a letter we received some time ago, where they wrote, \"We certainly enjoy your television program of Bible reading.\" Well that didn't bother me a bit, because I do spend most of the time reading. But also as we read we realize that people are seeing things that they never saw before, so I make no apology for that.\n\nPsalms 104:1 – 4\n\n\"Bless the LORD, O my soul, O LORD my God, thou art very great: thou art clothed with honour and majesty. 2. Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain: 3. Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind: 4. Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire:\" And we'll be looking at that more a little later. Now speaking of the Creator God, the Son:\n\nPsalms 104:5 – 6\n\n\"Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever. 6. Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: the waters stood above the mountains.\" And of course we go back to Genesis 1:2 for that:\n\nGenesis 1:2b\n\n\"...And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.\" Now back to Psalms 104, and drop down to verse 7.\n\nPsalms 104:7 – 8\n\n\"At thy rebuke they fled; at the voice of thy thunder they hasted away. 8. They go up by the mountains; they go down by the valleys unto the place which thou hast founded for them.\"\n\nYou know what I always like to tell people about the country? We're so blasé about a lot of things, for example when you drive through the countryside, and you come to these mountains and rivers, do you ever just stop and think, \"Now imagine, God created the surface of the planet in such a way that all the water finds its way sooner or later back to the sea, with rare exceptions. The exceptions would be probably, the Great Salt Lakes, and the Dead Sea, but for the most part the whole planet as the rain and snow falls, sooner or later it's going to find its way back to the sea. Well, was that an accident that happens? Heavens no! That's the way the Creator planned, and that's what the Psalmist is saying in verse 8.\n\nPsalms 104:8\n\n\"They (the waters) go up by the mountains; they go down by the valleys unto the place which thou hast founded for them.\" (back to the ocean). That's just plain ole geography. Now let's drop on down to verse 10.\n\nPsalms 104:10 – 11a\n\n\"He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills. 11. They give drink to every beast of the field:...\"\n\nDo you see how God provided for everything? Just think about it as you drive wherever you go, just stop and think, \"The Creator planned it all for mankind's good.\" We're not going to have time to look at it here, but the book of Isaiah says, \"The world was created to be inhabited.\" Well by whom? By all His created beings, not just men, but for all the animals, fish, birds and reptiles as well, at His command. Now let's read on in verse 12.\n\nPsalms 104:12 – 14\n\n\"By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing among the branches. 13. He watereth the hills from his chambers: the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. 14. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth;\"\n\nIs that mundane? Yeah, but Who was behind it all? The Creator, The Son! So every time you drive by a pasture of cattle just think, \"The grass they're eating, the Creator planned it that way.\" Now verse 15.\n\nPsalm 104:15 – 17\n\n\"And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart. 16. The trees of the LORD are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted; 17. Where birds make their nest: as for the stork, the fir trees are her house.\" And on and on you can read about the Son's creation. Let's look at a few more here in Psalms chapter 4. These are just too good.\n\nPsalm 104:30a\n\n\"Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created:...\"\n\nNow what does that tell you? I've been stressing now for the past several programs, that God the Son was the Creator. He's the One that spoke and things began to happen, but this verse tells us that it was the Spirit that carried it out. So yes, God the Father was in agreement with it, God the Son spoke it, and God the Spirit sent it forth. Now verse 31.\n\nPsalms 104:31 – 32\n\n\"The glory of the LORD shall endure for ever: the LORD shall rejoice in his works. 32. He looketh on the earth and it trembleth: he toucheth the hills, and they smoke.\"\n\nSo everything is under His control. Now let's go all the way up to the New Testament and see how the Apostle Paul addresses the intellectual snobs in Athens. And that's what they were. My, they thought they were so smart. They thought that old Paul was just a babbler. So turn to Acts chapter 17, where he addresses these Athenian intellectual philosophers. And let's just drop in at verse 22. I want you to remember now what we just read back in the Psalms, and what God said to Job. All of this fits together.\n\nActs 17:22 – 23\n\n\"Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars' hill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious. 23. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, (their worship of their pagan gods and goddesses) I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, (Just in case there's one they didn't know about) him declare I unto you.\" Now here it comes in verse 24. This is Paul's agreement with Psalms chapter 104.\n\nActs 17:24 – 25\n\n\"God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; 25. Neither is worshipped with men's hands as though he needed any thing seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things;\"\n\nWhat does that mean? Just exactly what it says. The food you eat even here in 2001 AD, Who provided it? The Creator! All the things you enjoy, and the clothes on our back, who provided it? The Creator! The roof over your head, who provided it? The Creator! See, this is what God wants us to understand, that He is the provider of everything, and not just to the believing world, but the whole world. And Paul is even telling these pagan Athenians that God had provided everything they needed, and they didn't know. Well I guess that's far enough in the book of Acts, so coming back now to the book of Hebrews.\n\nSo everything that has been made, everything up in the heavens and on the earth are the works of His hands. We don't have much time left in this lesson, and I doubt I'll be able to finish my next thought, but we're going drop down into verse 11, and take just the first three words. That's the way I like to study Scripture.\n\nHebrews 1:11a\n\n\"They shall perish;...\"\n\nEverything that God has created, everything that God has made for man's use and privileges and for his comfort, one day it's all going to disappear! \"They shall perish;...\" Now in the moment or two we have left, I want to take you back in your mind, especially those of you who studied with me years ago back in the book of Genesis, about the creation. Remember I went back and correlated the Biblical account of creation with the first two laws of science, do you remember what they were? They're called the two laws of thermodynamics. The laws of heat and energy. Well the first law of thermodynamics says in plain English: \"There is now nothing else being created.\"Now that's your first law of heat and energy. And that's the law that functioned while Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden. There were no deaths and everything was set for all eternity. They could have lived there forever if they had not sinned.\n\nYou know I just wrote someone the other day, that when God placed Adam and Eve in the Garden, that they could have lived there forever. There was no stipulation. But of course what Adam and Eve didn't know, and God did, was that Adam would sin and end that glorious habitation in the Garden of Eden. But until Adam sinned the first law of thermodynamics was in full control. Everything that was needed to carry everything on and its purposes was completed, and nothing more was needed and it could go forever.\n\nWe'll have to pick this thought up in the next program. But as soon as Adam sinned, what came in? Death! And now when you have death in the picture, the second law of thermodynamics kicks in, and that laws says, \"That even though nothing more is being created, yet everything that has been created is constantly going into a less useable state.\" And science calls that entropy. What does that mean? Everything is in the process of dying. You and I are in that process—at the moment we're born, we start dying. And that applies to everything on the planet. The moment they're born, the seeds of death are already working, and that's not only for the animal world, but also for the non-animal world. In other words, just as soon as a tree falls in the forest, it begins to rot; it just simply goes back to the dust it came from. So just be thinking about that until we get to the next lesson.\n\nLESSON TWO * PART II\n\nThe Son's Glorious Creation\n\nHebrews 1:11 – 2:3\n\nNow as we continue our study in the book of Hebrews, you'll remember I've been stressing that Hebrews is written by the Apostle Paul, but he didn't put his name to it because he knew the Jews had a bad taste in their mouth with what he had done with their religious system. He had turned his back on their system and was now contrary to what they thought of in the keeping of the Law.\n\nBut we feel that he is the writer, and the evidence is quite insurmountable that he is the writer. And he's addressing this Book to Jewish people who are having a hard time overcoming the pull of Judaism, and were having a hard time stepping out of the Law and the ramifications of it, and simply trusting that Jesus of Nazareth was indeed the King of glory, and to believe that He's the Son, and the One Who satisfied all the demands of a Holy God by simply putting their trust in Him.\n\nSo, in this first chapter of Hebrews we're seeing Christ elevated to a place high above the angels. He's the Creator of everything and the sustainer, even as Paul writes in the book of Colossians. Now we've been seeing in the last couple of verses how indeed He was the One Who created everything and then in the last part of the last program we saw that all of this glorious creation is hearing the death knell. His glorious creation is all going to pass off the scene and be replaced by a new heaven and a new earth.\n\nRemember at the close of the last lesson, we left off with scientific laws of thermodynamics. And we saw that the second law of thermodynamics kicked in the moment that Adam sinned, because with sin came death. So the whole creation is under the death knell. Everything is moving closer and closer to oblivion. Now the average individual on the planet probably never thinks about that. But everything on the planet is going into a less useable state. Even our fossil fuels, as they pump those billions and billions of barrels of oil out of the Middle East, it's not being replaced, it's not a replaceable energy source, but rather it's going to one day run out.\n\nAnd it's the same way with everything in creation, as it is constantly moving into a less useable state. And even we in this body of flesh, as I said in the last program, from the day we're born, death begins. It doesn't matter whether we live to be 10 or 70 or 100, that's beside the point; death is our final end, short of the Rapture of the Church. So the whole creation is under that same set of circumstances. It is moving closer and closer to the time when it will finally be exchanged for something totally new. Now let's back that up with some Scripture.\n\nHebrews 1:11\n\n\"They shall perish; (all the things God has created) but thou (the Creator) remainest; and they all shall wax old as doth a garment;\" My, what a beautiful illustration. Now a garment doesn't wear out overnight. That's something that is accomplished over a process of time, and so is creation. As the eons of time are going by, everything is in entropy, it's all going into a less useable state, until finally God will undo the whole thing. Now verse 12, and using that same word: garment, or a vesture or piece of clothing:\n\nHebrews 1:12\n\n\"And as a vesture shalt thou (the Creator) fold them up, and they shall be changed: (I think a clearer word there would be exchanged. The heaven and earth are not going to be changed from this to that, but they're going to be totally destroyed, and we're going to have everything new.) but thou (Creator) art the same, and thy years shall not fail.\" Now let's go back once again to the Old Testament to Isaiah chapter 51, then we're going to look at Psalms again.\n\nIsaiah 51:6\n\n\"Lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look upon the earth beneath: for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment, (same language) and they that dwell therein shall die in like manner: but my salvation shall be for ever, and my righteousness shall not be abolished.\"\n\nNow let's come back to Psalms 102 for a moment, because I know a lot of times we read these Psalms and yet we don't read them, and here's another few verses that I would say most people, if they've read it, have missed one of the major points.\n\nPsalms 122:21 – 23\n\n\"To declare the name of the LORD in Zion, and his praise in Jerusalem: 22. When the people are gathered together and the kingdoms, to serve the LORD. 23. He weakened my strength in the way; he shortened my days\"\n\nWhat do you think He's talking about? How old was Christ when His life was ended? 33 years old, and right in the prime of life as we normally think, so that's the reference here. Now He cries out to the Father:\n\nPsalms 102:24\n\n\"...I said, O my God, (see that's why Christ in the flesh and refers to the Father as His God. It's just from that position where He is, as the Man-God) take me not away in the midst of my days: thy years are throughout all generations.\" In verse 25, God the Son is still addressing the Father from His position on earth and says:\n\nPsalms 102:25\n\n\"Of old hast thou laid the foundation of the earth: and the heavens are the work of thy hands.\" And now here in verse 26 we come back to the same language that we've been seeing in the book of Hebrews and the Psalms, and various other portions of Scripture. Remember the Psalmist is speaking of the work of creation and says:\n\nPsalms 102:26 – 27\n\n\"They shall perish, but thou shalt endure: ye, all of them wax old like a garment; (isn't it amazing how the Scripture just repeats itself? And you know what I've always said, what's the purpose of repetition? Emphasis! God wants us to understand that this old world isn't going to last forever. But you see most people today think there's no end to it, and it will just keep going and going and going. But there's a day coming when God's going to wrap it up, like an old worn out garment) as a vesture shalt thou change them, (or exchange them) and they shall be changed: (but God never changes, God the Son never changes,) 27. But thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end.\"\n\nWell that's the Psalmists way of putting it. Now let's come back and look at some of the New Testament analogies in II Peter to see when this old planet is going to meet its end. Here we have this little epistle of II Peter with this same thought, that there's coming a day, for not just the earth, but I feel the whole universe will be totally done away with, because everything has to be made new. Now why? Because there isn't a corner of this universe that hasn't been defiled by that old devil, Satan. He's defiled it all, he's been in the presence of God in heaven, you know that. He's been, I think, to the ends of the universe, and it's all defiled, so consequently, it all has to be destroyed. Now verse 10.\n\nII Peter 3:10\n\n\"But the day of the Lord (which goes right on past the Tribulation, and through the 1000 year Kingdom until we come into eternity. And remember 1000 years with God is just a day, so don't think in terms as we look at it, but rather in God's thinking. In His thinking it's all in one successive time. So the day of the Lord) will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.\" Everything is suddenly going to return to the nothingness from which it came. Verse 11.\n\nII Peter 3:11a\n\n\"Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved,...\"\n\nNow you know what dissolved things look like. I mean the heat just melts it down, and if you keep the heat on it long enough, it's going to be nothing. Now reading on. It's going to be dissolved, so consequently:\n\nII Peter 3:11b – 12\n\n\"...what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation (or manner of lifestyle) and godliness. 12. Looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God, (when eternity will be ushered in) wherein the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, (see there's twice we've had the word dissolved in two verses.) and the elements (that make up matter) shall melt with fervent heat?\" Now verse 13, and see it's not a hopeless case.\n\nII Peter 3:13\n\n\"Nevertheless we, (as believers) according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness.\"\n\nNow to complete this thought, let's go all the way up to Revelation, and this just puts the capstone on it, and it's almost the same identical language. Let's go to chapter 20 first of all, and drop in at verse 11. Keep in mind this whole concept that everything in the universe was created by a loving and merciful God to provide everything that was needed by all life forms, whether it's human, animal, birds, or whatever. He provided for all of us. Now verse 11, as we're ready to usher in eternity:\n\nRevelation 20:11\n\n\"And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, (which of course will be the Son) from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them.\"\n\nThey're gone! They've disappeared. No hope? Yeah there's hope, now look at Revelation 21, and verse 1. It's almost the same identical language with what Peter said, but now John is writing.\n\nRevelation 21:1a\n\n\"And I saw a new heaven and a new earth:...\" This new heaven and new earth, I think will be undefiled and perfect. Oh, I think it's going to be beyond human comprehension.\n\nRevelation 21:1b\n\n\"...for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away;...\"\n\nAnd with it went all the defilement, all the residue of the wickedness of all the ages, completely gone, and with this new heaven and earth, there is nothing but purity, beauty, righteousness. God's holiness is evident everywhere.\n\nRevelation 21:1c – 2\n\n\"...and there was no more sea. (and then on this new planet, John saw) 2. And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.\"\n\nNow that verse doesn't call the new Jerusalem the bride, but as a bride. I had someone call me the other day and wanted to know if the new Jerusalem was the Bride of Christ. It doesn't say that. It merely says that this new city is going to come down with all the beauty of a bride. I've made this statement before, Iris and I have been to our share of weddings, and you know we have never seen an ugly bride. Am I right? They're always beautiful, and that's why the Scripture uses that analogy. So this city is going to come down with the beauty and majesty and purity of that little bride dressed in white. That's why we've got to be careful with language so we don't jump to the conclusion that the new Jerusalem is the Bride of Christ, because it doesn't say that.\n\nAnd when you go on further into this chapter, this new city four square is going to be, if we can understand Scripture dimensions, 1500 miles long, 1500 miles wide, and 1500 miles high. You and I can't imagine the square footage in something like that. Now that's a city that would reach, on this present day planet, from New York City to Denver, and from Denver, to Mexico City, and from Mexico City out into South Atlantic, and then back to New York, and then it would be just as high.\n\nWell I read the other day, and this is mind boggling, that if you gave every individual 3 square feet, you could put all the population of our United States of America, which at this time is about 275 million in the city limits of Jacksonville Florida. Now that will throw you a curve won't it? Now that just goes to show you how many people can be put into that kind of area. And then take a city that is 1500 miles cubed? So if you think heaven is going to be crowded, you can forget that. Just forget that. And that's just the city, that doesn't take in the rest of the universe, that I think we'll have access to. Oh listen, eternity is something to get excited about.\n\nI think people get the idea that we'll just float around and strum a harp when we get to heaven. But that's not what it's going to be at all. Heaven is going to be a place of intense activity. We'll also have music that will just blow us away. We'll have joy and happiness like you and I can't comprehend.\n\nAs Iris and I travel, we have to wonder, especially as we travel in big cities with 6 or 7 lanes of traffic bumper to bumper, and people hurrying to and fro, just how many of them ever think about eternity? And I think the answer is \"very few.\" They never stop to think of this eternity that's waiting for us who believe. So it's sad that here our Creator God is in such control of everything, and He's setting everything up for glory, and the vast majority of mankind could care less. They'll live their 70 years or so years on this old planet, and try to live it up the best they can, and then that's it. Is it any wonder we feel sorry for them, and I do feel sorry for them, because they just don't know what they're missing now, and what they'll miss for all eternity. Now let's come back to Hebrews again, to chapter 1 and verse 12.\n\nHebrews 1:12a\n\n\"And as a vesture (His creation) shall fold them up, and they shall be changed:...\" (or exchanged for new heavens and a new earth)\n\nI think I used this illustration years ago on one of the programs. I had read an article in a scientific journal. It was written by a multi-degreed physicist and he was writing an article on the origin of the universe (which scientists are all hung up on). And his final statement in the article was so shocking, that I just had to read it to my little wife. Do you know what he said? He said, \"I have come to the conclusion that all of the universe came from one single source of light.\" Well so far so good, but it was his next statement that just blew me away. And so he said, \"I can foresee the day when this whole universe will come right back into that original source of light.\"And isn't that just exactly what the Scriptures teach?\n\nGod created it all out of nothing, and He's going to bring it all back from whence it came and recreate it again. And I doubt the gentlemen had any idea how close to the truth that he really came. Even though God has let the universe run, for however long it's been here, whether it's billions or thousands, that's irreverent, but the day is coming, when it's all going to disappear—but God remains. God is still going to be in control of everything. In fact, let's take a look at the last chapter of Hebrews for a moment, and I'd like to start with verse 5, but the verse I really want is verse 8.\n\nHebrews 13:5a\n\n\"Let your conversation (or your manner of living) be without covetousness;...\"\n\nNow do you remember what Paul said about covetousness? Well back there in Romans chapter 7, it basically says, \"covetousness is what triggers all other sins.\" Now you think about that for a week or two. So that being the case, here's the admonition.\n\nHebrews 13:5 – 8\n\n\"Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, (Here's the promise) I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. 6. So that we may boldly say, (God the Son)The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me. 7. Remember them which have the rule over you, who have spoken unto you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation. 8. Jesus Christ (the Creator, the One Who is higher than the angels, the One Who will one day destroy everything, yes, Jesus Christ is) the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever.\"\n\nHe'll never change! Do you see why our faith is on bedrock? He will never, ever change. Now for the short time we have left, let's come on back to Hebrews chapter 1. Oh my goodness, I don't know why I always end up with a subject that's going to take an hour, and I only have three minutes left. But I'm not going to fudge, and try to fill the three minutes with empty words, so we'll just go on into the next verse. Remember when I try to plan for four programs, I find it is utterly impossible for me to know where I'm going to end a particular half hour lesson. I've tried over the years, and it's just impossible. So all we can do is just take it as the Spirit leads and if we don't finish it this half hour then we'll complete it in the next. So let's go on into verse 13.\n\nNow remember we're showing throughout all these verses how that God the Son is above the angelic host. His power is more than the concentration of the millions upon millions of angels, He is far above them.\n\nHebrews 1:13\n\n\"But to which of the angels said he at any time, Sit on my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool?\"\n\nNow I'm going to give you some homework. You just take a good concordance and see how many times the Holy Spirit prompts the writers of Scripture to go back to this verse and you will be amazed. I think probably this verse is quoted more often throughout the Bible as a whole than any other Scripture. I know I was just amazed as I was preparing for this, how many writers refer to this verse. Now I want you to contemplate as we get ready for the next half hour, what is the picture of the world being His footstool? Well, have you ever heard the expression, \"He's got His foot on their neck?\" Think about it.\n\nLESSON TWO * PART III\n\nThe Son's Glorious Creation\n\nHebrews 1:11 – 2:3\n\nNow as we teach, hopefully we can just teach the Word to win the lost, and also to edify and build up believers, and all of this is to bring the glory to our Lord. Again I've been asked if we give permission for people to use our material. Absolutely! You don't have to call and ask us that, just as long as it's not used for profit.\n\nNow let's go back into Hebrews where we left off in the last lesson, where in the closing moments I made reference to this Psalms 110:1 that is quoted so often by various authors of Scripture, so it must bear some tremendous importance. And hopefully during this lesson, we're going to dig out at least part of that. So let's come in at Hebrews chapter 1, and verse 13 again.\n\nHebrews 1:13\n\n\"But to which of the angels said he at any time, Sit on my right hand, until (now that's the key word) I make thine enemies thy footstool?\"\n\nNow let's go back and chase that verse down, and it begins of course with David writing it in Psalms 110:1. This is a verse that I wish everyone would commit to memory if you haven't before, and know where it is.\n\nPsalms 110:1\n\n\"The LORD said unto my Lord, (now I think that in just about every translation that the first LORD mention here is all capitols. The second is merely the L is capitalized, and the o-r-d is in the small case. So what you really have here is God the Father, says to God the Son) Sit thou at my right hand, (He's not going there for all eternity, but rather just for a period of time) until I make thine enemies thy footstool.\"\n\nI think the enemies here include all the satanic host, as well as all of Christ's rejecting humanity—they are going to be finally under His foot. He's going to have complete domination. Now let's move from here up to Matthew chapter 22, and drop down to verse 44. This is Christ in His earthly ministry, He uses this verse in Psalms Himself. But to pick up the flow of these verses let's begin at verse 41.\n\nMatthew 22:41 – 46\n\n\"While the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them, 42. Saying, What think ye of Christ? whose son is he? They say unto him, The Son of David. 43. He saith unto them, How then doth David in spirit (that is by inspiration of the Holy Spirit) call him Lord, saying, 44. The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool? 45. If David then call him Lord, how is he his son?\" (now look at the next verse) 46. And no man was able to answer him a word, neither durst any man from that day forth ask him any more questions.\"\n\nThey were absolutely stumped! Well what should they have known? That He was the Son of God. But by virtue of the promises made to David that He would come through the lineage of David, yes, the Scripture does speak of Him as the Son of David. But you see, that's not what Psalms 110:1 was speaking of. That Psalms was speaking of the very Godhead, and David had nothing to do with bringing that about except through the flesh. Now let's look at the next one which is in Mark chapter 12 and verse 35 to again to pick up the flow.\n\nMark 12:35a\n\n\"And Jesus answered and said, while he taught in the temple,...\"\n\nI know I shake people up, and I don't do it purposely, but you see everybody is so locked into tradition. All they can think of is what they've heard over the years and generations and what they've been taught and had passed down to them. Then this simple layman comes along, and says, \"Now wait a moment, everything that Jesus said, He said to the Jews under the Law.\" That's when people get all shook up. They will say, \"Well He went to the Gentiles.\" No He didn't, as there is not any record except for two individuals, the Canaanite woman, and the Roman centurion. Other than that there is nothing in our New Testament where Jesus ever dealt with Gentiles. He couldn't because of His covenants. The covenants were made with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And as those covenants were to come to the full, then yes, He would become the object of faith to the whole world, but not until. So here again, where is Jesus dealing with these Pharisees? In the Temple. How much access did the Gentiles have to the Temple? Almost none. Now reading the verse again.\n\nMark 12:35 – 36a\n\n\"And Jesus answered and said, while he taught in the temple, How say the scribes that Christ is the Son of David? 36. For David himself said by the Holy Ghost....\"\n\nDo you see how plain all of this fits together? When Paul writes back there in Timothy I think it is, \"that all Scriptures is inspired of God, and is profitable.\" Well that word 'inspired' is probably better translated, \"God breathed.\" What person of the Godhead breathed the Scripture? The Holy Spirit, and then the Lord Himself gives credit, that even David wrote as the Holy Spirit prompted him to write. So all of these things must be taken into consideration. Now reading on.\n\nMark 12:36\n\n\"For David himself said by the Holy Ghost, The LORD said to my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool. 37. David therefore himself calleth him Lord; and whence is he then his son? And the common people heard him gladly.\"\n\nBut who had trouble with these sayings? The Pharisees. My, they couldn't swallow any of this, but the common people not in authority just soaked it up. Then in verse 38, Jesus just sort of puts the frosting on the cake doesn't He?\n\nMark 12:38 – 39\n\n\"And he said unto them in his doctrine, Beware of the scribes, (in other words the intellectual elite, the Pharisees and Sadducees) which love to go in long clothing, and love salutations in the marketplaces. 39. And the chief seats in the synagogues, and the uppermost rooms at feasts:\"\n\nBut the point was made, \"Who was the Lord that was invited to sit at the LORD's right hand?\" The Son! Now remember the vast majority of Israel could never accept the fact that anything good came out of Nazareth. Remember that was their saying. \"Can anything good come out of Nazareth?\" And you remember that was the whole thrust of Matthew chapter 16, when Jesus confronted the Twelve just shortly before the crucifixion, \"Whom do men say that I am?\" These men had three years to witness His ministry, to witness His sinlessness. To witness His miracles and power over even the raging Sea of Galilee when He stood, and said, \"Peace be still!\" And what did the disciples say? What manner of man is this that even the winds obey His voice.\"\n\nWell you see this is the whole concept even in this little situation that they were to understand Who Jesus really was. He wasn't just the carpenter's son, but rather He was the Creator! He was the One Who that one day would satisfy all the demands of a Holy and Righteous God by taking upon Himself the sins of the whole world. He was the One Who would be raised from the dead in power and glory, and then ascend to the Father right hand, but would not sit there forever, but only, \"until.\" Now the next Scripture we'll look at will be in Luke chapter 20, and let's just drop in at verse 39.\n\nLuke 20:39 – 46a\n\n\"Then certain of the scribes answering said, Master, thou hast well said. 40. And after that they durst not ask him any question at all. 41. And he said unto them. How say they that Christ is David's son? 42. And David himself saith in the book of Psalms, the LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, 43. Till I make thine enemies thy footstool. 44. David therefore calleth him Lord, how is he then his son? 45. Then in the audience of all the people (of Israel) he said unto his disciples, 46. Beware of the scribes,...\" (and religious leaders)\n\nNow let's go on over to one more, and that would be the day of Pentecost, and Peter is preaching to the Nation of Israel in Acts chapter 2. Let's pick this up in verse 25. Because here again you see, Peter is trying to convince this great Jewish crowd gathered for the feast of Pentecost, that the One they crucified was the Christ. He was the Creator of everything. Now verse 25.\n\nActs 2:25 – 29\n\n\"For David speaketh concerning him, (Christ from the Old Testament Psalms) I foresaw the Lord always before my face, for he is on my right hand, that I should not be moved: 26. Therefore did my heart rejoice, and my tongue was glad; moreover also my flesh shall rest in hope: (now that's what David said. Now in verse 27, David is making a direct reference to Christ's burial and resurrection) 27. Because thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. 28. Thou hast made known to me the ways of life: thou shalt make me full of joy with thy countenance. (Now Peter comes back and says) Men and brethren, let me freely speak unto you of the patriarch David, that he is both dead and buried, and his sepulchre is with us unto this day.\"\n\nNow those of you who have been with us when we go to Jerusalem, one of the places we stop at is David's tomb. And indeed so far as we know that tomb is still there on Mount Zion. And so Peter is using that as an example, that David is dead and he hasn't been resurrected yet. Now verse 30.\n\nActs 2:30a\n\n\"Therefore being a prophet,...\"\n\nMost people don't think of David and the Psalms being prophecy. Oh, it's full of prophecy. My, Psalms chapter 22 is a graphic description of the crucifixion, and we've already seen Psalms chapter 2 in days gone by as being an outline of the whole Old Testament program. Now verse 30 again.\n\nActs 2:30\n\n\"Therefore being a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him, that of the fruit of his loins, (yes, Jesus of Nazareth came through the linage of David) according to the flesh, he would raise up Christ to sit on his throne;\"\n\nNow wait a minute. In those three years of Christ's earthly ministry, did Jesus ever sit on David's throne? Why of course not. So what's the prophecy? He will one day! The day is coming and that's the \"until\" of His sitting at the Father's right hand. Now let's move on into verse 31.\n\nActs 2:31 – 32a\n\nHe (David) seeing this before (through the eyes of prophecy) spake of the resurrection of Christ that his (Christ's) soul was not left in hell, (that's the English word that speaks of the place of the departed) neither his flesh did see corruption. 32. This Jesus...\"\n\nNow remember the setting? This is the feast of Pentecost, and Jews are in Jerusalem from all over the Roman Empire. The crucifixion has only been 50 days back and every Jew is probably talking about that last Passover and what had taken place. And here Peter is trying to convince them that this Jesus, the One that they crucified, was the Christ.\n\nActs 2:32 – 35\n\n\"This Jesus hath God raised up, whereof we all are witnesses. 33. Therefore being by the right hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye now see and hear. (in other words the coming of the Holy Spirit) 34. For David is not ascended into the heavens: but he saith himself, The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand. 35. Until I make thy foes thy footstool.\"\n\nNow let's just stop and analyze this as you head on back to Hebrews, chapter 1. What is all of this emphasizing? Well, first and foremost, it emphases the fact that Christ has finished the work of redemption in that everything that needs to be done to purchase man's Salvation was finished. And as our High Priest, His priestly work accomplished, as I pointed out in a past lesson, there were no places to sit in the tabernacle or the Temple. The priest came in day after day, and they never sat down, their work was endless. And their work carried on until the day they died, and another priest would come in and take his place. It was an endless, priestly work, but this man, when He finished the work of redemption and presented everything to the Father in heaven, now He could sit down, because it was done.\n\nNow that's the whole picture, but He's not going to stay seated there at the Father's right hand, because there's still another segment of all the prophetic program left, and that is the 1000 year Kingdom Age. And oh, when you speak of the Kingdom Age, that also riles people up. They just can't accept the fact that there is an earthly kingdom out there in the future. You see the liberals and moderates idea is the only kingdom is already in us. It's just an invisible kingdom and all that nonsense, and it bugs me to hear people speak of that glorious kingdom that's coming in that light. But listen, there is a literal kingdom coming on the scene over which this Christ, this Son, is going to rule and reign from David's throne in Jerusalem.\n\nSo we have to understand that the Son is at the Father's right hand, having finished the work of redemption, but only for a period of time will He sit there. Now it's already been 1900 + years, so we think we're getting close to when He will be ready to arise from that seated position and return and invade human history once again. But when He returns and enters into human history, He's going to have all of His enemies subjected, as I said in the last program, with His feet on their neck. So all of his enemies are going to find themselves suddenly not in a place of blessing, but rather in a place of eternal doom.\n\nNow let's be careful. Who are His enemies? Well, it's easiest enough for us to say guys like Hitler, and all of the very bad rulers in history, oh, we can readily recognize them as the enemies of Christ, but you see the enemies that we sometimes forget are those unsaved church members. We're talking about good people, dressed in their finery, and even the attitude of so many church people.\n\nI remember I had been invited to teach in a large church many years ago in their training hour before evening services, and we had a lot of our own class people that were members of that church so they asked us to come and attend the Sunday morning service as well. So Iris and I got to the service and found a place to sit down, and we barely noticed it (but other people told us about what had happened), but this nicely dressed couple came in saw that we were sitting in their pew and instead of just courteously asking us to move, they just in a huff turned around and went out and went home. Now what does that tell you? Were they there to worship? Were they there to praise the Lord? Were they there as a testimony? No, they were just there to fill the pew. Now like I said, I'm not judging their hearts, so don't get me wrong, but this is too often the case.\n\nToo many times people go to church because it's expected of them. They go because after all, at 11:00 a.m. Sunday morning that's where Christians belong. There's no love for the Lord, there's no love for this Book, and the reason?, \"They're Lost!\" I guess one of the other television preachers, Dr. Stanley, follows me in one of the television areas that we're on, and it was funny that I had made mention of this subject in my program, and he followed me right up and said almost the same thing, \"That our churches are full of unsaved church members.\" Well, if they're unsaved church members, what are they? They're are enemies of our Lord. So get it straight, lost people are the enemies of God whether they realize it or not. I've got one verse that I can use to Scripturally back that up. I can't just say it from my own opinion, but come back with me for a moment to Romans chapter 8.\n\nIt's awfully easy for us to see the rank, wicked people as the enemies of God, as we're experiencing it even in our American politics—those that detest our Christian principles. So there's doubt that they're enemies of God, but we so often forget that the rank and file unbeliever is also. And they're all going to be in that group that will end up under His feet. And then He will be able to restore the righteousness, the planet will come back as the Garden of Eden, and He will rule and reign. So let's read from Romans 6, and drop in at verse 5.\n\nRomans 8:5 – 7a\n\n\"For they that are after the flesh (lost people who may be as good as gold, but they're lost) do mind the things of the flesh; (they have no hunger for Spiritual things) but they that are after the Spirit (they mind) the things of the Spirit. (now here it comes) 6. For to be carnally (fleshly) minded (the lost person) is death; (spiritual death) but to be spiritually minded is life and peace, 7. Because the carnal mind (the unsaved person) is enmity against God;...\"\n\nSo they're the enemies of God. Oh, they may not be active enemies, they may instead be passive, but the Scripture still puts them in that category as enemies of God. So they're the ones that are going to end up under His feet like a footstool. So that lost person:\n\nRomans 8:7b\n\n\"...is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.\" (Why?)\n\nWell, just like we were in the cold war, were we Americans subjected to the Russian government? Why heavens no. Why? Because at that time they were our declared enemies, they have no control over us, and so it is with God.\n\nLESSON TWO * PART IV\n\nThe Son's Glorious Creation\n\nHebrews 1:11 – 2:3\n\nLet's just pick up where we left off in the last lesson, and that would be in Hebrews chapter 2 and verse 1. I think we'll just go straight through the first 4 verses, because they're all tied together, then we'll come back and pick these verses apart.\n\nHebrews 2:1 – 4\n\n\"Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them slip. 2. For if the word spoken by angels was stedfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompence of reward; 3. How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation; which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed unto us by them that heard him; 4. God also bearing them witness, both with signs and wonders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost, according to his own will.\"\n\nNow all of those verses are tied around that one concept, \"How dare we neglect so great a Salvation.\" Now let's go up to verse 1 and begin. And look at the very first word, \"Therefore.\" Remember when we taught Romans several years ago whenever we came to a \"Therefore, what would I tell you? What's it there for! Well, because of what went before. Here, he's referring to what we just covered in chapter 1, and some of that was:\n\n\"If the Son is higher than the angels, if the Son was the Creator of everything, if the Son finished the work of redemption, and purchased man's sins, and was now qualified to sit down at the right hand of the Father on high, but not forever, there would come a day when He would arise and return, and set up His Kingdom here on the earth. But before He would set up the Kingdom, He would destroy His enemies.\"\n\nNow the study we had in II Thessalonians should still be fresh on your mind. How that the day of the Lord is coming, and the wrath and vexation that is going to be poured out on Christ-rejecting mankind, and that's all the same concept of what Psalm 110:1 spoke of as having His enemies under His feet. Now with all that as a backdrop, that God the Son, the Creator, the Redeemer, the Intercessor, sitting at the Father's right hand on our behalf:\n\nHebrews 2:1\n\nTherefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them slip.\"\n\nNow I think most of you have heard me long enough to know, that I believe that once a person is genuinely saved (and has been placed into the Body of Christ, and God has declared us justified from all things, He has redeemed us, He has paid the purchased price, He has forgiven us), that person can never be lost!\n\nBut you want to remember that we're dealing in Hebrews with Jewish people who were still on the fence. They're looking in at this whole concept that Paul is presenting concerning Christ, but on the other hand they still have that pull back to the Old Testament economy, which was still looking forward to a Messiah. And for them to believe that the Messiah had come and died and been raised from the dead, that was a bitter pill for them to swallow. Even our Jewish friends today, see this as their big hang up, and I say this kindly, because I know we have a lot of Jewish listeners, but they still can't recognize that the One Who was crucified, was that promised Messiah, the Creator of everything. And you know in the Jewish mind, \"Jesus of Nazareth, the Creator? You've got to be crazy.\" And I can understand their response. But you see the whole purpose of the Book of Hebrews is to bring these Jewish people to a full understanding of Who Jesus of Nazareth really was.\n\nHe was the Christ, He was God, He was the Creator, He is even now at the Father's right hand, and one day He's coming again, and He is yet going to sit on David's throne. He is yet going to fulfill all the Old Testament promises, as it's still future, but oh, we feel we're getting so close. My, when you look at what's going on in the world, with regard to technology, the moral breakdown, the corruption in politics, and everything else, then it just screams at the human race that the end is near.\n\nSo this is what this Book is trying to establish, first and foremost with the Jewish people, but I'm going to just say, this is only for the Jew. You and I have been learning for the last eight lessons in Hebrews, there's so much in here that is appropriate for us, but the main thrust of the book is to convince Jewish listeners who are on the fence, to come on in, and latch onto, and believe it! So this is why the language of Hebrews will make it sound that it's possible to be saved and then lost, and this is what has raised so many questions. And it's the same way here. It's not someone who has been saved, and into the Body, and he's let it slip and lost it, but rather, these are people on the fence, and they've tasted, they've been convicted by the Spirit, but they just can't latch on to it. Verse 1 again.\n\nHebrews 2:1 – 2a\n\n\"Therefore (because of what we've just proven in this first chapter, of Who Christ really is, The Son, The Creator of everything, the sustainer of everything, Righteous, Holy, higher than the angelic host, Therefore) we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we have let them slip. (in other words, lose interest and go back into the previous life,) 2. For if the word spoken by angels was stedfast,...\"\n\nNow years ago I read that verse, and it threw a curve at me, and I imagine that it does lots of people. When did the angels have a part in dispensing the Word of God? Well it's hard to nail that down, but come back with me to the Book of Galatians chapter 3, because this isn't the only place that we have this. This of course is Paul's letter to the Gentile churches with regard to their being pressured to go back under the Law of Moses. So this little letter of Galatians is written to prove that we in this Age of Grace are not under Law, but rather we're under Grace, a whole new economy.\n\nGalatians 3:19a\n\n\"Wherefore then serveth the law? (how did it come about, what was its background?) It was added because of transgressions,...\"\n\nNow you want to remember that the Law didn't come on to the human experience until about 2500 years after Adam was created. So the Law was added because of transgressions. Now stop and think a moment. What happened to the human race from Adam to the flood, when they had no Mosaic Law? Oh, it became the pits! Violence filled the earth, and murder was everywhere. People were very wicked, they had no concept of God anymore. I always tell people, if you don't think God has to be satisfied with a small percentage for a remnant, just stop and think, there were probably 4 or 5 billion on the earth at the time of flood, but how many were believers? EIGHT! Well, why so small a number? There was no Law, there was no formal system of worship, because it was all dependent on the head of the house passing it on to his sons, and so they immediately lost it. So by the time we get to the flood, only eight souls were saved. This is why Paul says \"the Law was added,\" because it didn't work without some system of Law. Now reading on:\n\nGalatians 3:19\n\n\"Wherefore then serveth the law? It was added because of transgressions (mankind's sins) till the seed should come to whom the promise was made; and it was ordained by angels in the hand of a mediator.\"\n\nNow I don't understand that, and I don't claim to, because I think our basic understanding of the giving of the Law was, \"Moses was up there on Mount Sinai, and God wrote the Law with His finger on the tables of stone, and Moses brought it down the mountain.\" But you see in these two Scripture references—and I think there's even another one—somehow or other, angels were involved in that giving of the Law to Moses, and Moses, of course, brings the Law down the mountain. I'm not going to take it any further than that, but the Scripture does say, \"it was ordained by angels in the hand of a mediator.\" Now let's come back to Hebrews then.\n\nHebrews 2:1 – 2\n\n\"Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have hard, lest at any time we should let them slip. 2. For if the word (the Law) spoken by angels was stedfast, (in other words the Law was perfect,) and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompence of reward;\"\n\nNow do you know what that means? The Law was so explicit, and so severe. There was no getting a good attorney and somehow buying your way out when you broke God's Law, you paid the consequences. Now I think there's a lot of misunderstanding, when the Lord Jesus said, \"an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.\" Well, was He actually promoting the fact that if you committed a particular crime, that you should have your eye plucked out? No. But rather it was a comparative term, that the crime was to receive the punishment equal to the crime. If someone had done something worthy to have his eye taken out, then his punishment should be accordingly, not by taking out his eye, or cutting off his hand, or anything like that. Remember the Law was strict, and there was no bending the rules. Now verse 3. Remember we're in a whole better program than what the Law was, and this is the argument that Paul is presenting.\n\nHebrews 2:3a\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation;...\"\n\nNow remember, how great is this Salvation that you and I have today. It's beyond human understanding, because it's free for nothing. See, under the Law you paid every time you broke it, one way or another. See, under this Age of Grace, you don't have to gather a lot of money for Salvation. And as I've said before, you don't have to cross the ocean or climb a sheer cliff to get to Salvation, but rather it's right in front of every human being! In John's gospel chapter 10, we find the door to the sheep fold is right at ground level. And where is it with a lost person? Right in front of him, and all he has to do is walk into it by faith. And so great a Salvation, you don't have to work, work, work!\n\nI gave this illustration once before, several years ago. A lady from Tennessee had sent us some buttons, and we took them on a tour to Israel with us. And it just so happened that we had the same amount of buttons as we did people on that tour and so we all wore them everyday. It just so happened that as we were coming out of Jordan into Israel, and we had gotten into one of the several passport lines, when I noticed this middle easterner was trying read what these buttons said. He was a young man probably in his 30s, and finally he broke out of his line and came over to me, and turned the button up to where he could read it, and said, \"FAITH + NOTHING = SALVATION?\" I said, \"That's right,\" and he was just stupefied. He said, \"You mean, that I don't have to work, and work and work to get to heaven?\" I said, \"No you don't, you just simply believe the Gospel, and that will do it.\" He just shook his head, and went back into his line.\n\nBut isn't that the attitude of most of the people of the world? Oh, we've got to work, work, work, and somehow satisfy the demands of a Holy God, but listen, the only way we can satisfy God is by taking it by faith in Paul's Gospel of I Corinthians 15:1 – 4.\n\nSo this is what Paul is referring to here. How dare we neglect so great a Salvation! Now I think it's all going to be based on this whole idea of responsibility, the judgment for rewards. The Bema Seat is going to be based upon our faithfulness with what we have, and what we have done with our responsibility. The lost will be judged on how much responsibility did they have, just how much knowledge did they have. Now for a lot of lost people out there in areas of the world where we think they've never heard the Gospel, then naturally they're not going to suffer as severe a doom as an American who hears the Gospel day in and day out and rejects it.\n\nWe've got the greatest thing that has ever been offered to the human race. A Salvation without works, by faith, and faith alone in what Christ has already done for us—it's finished. It's a finished transaction, so the question again is:\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation; which at the first (going all the way back to Christ's earthly ministry. This is all building up to our Gospel of Grace) began to be spoken by the Lord,\" (in His earthly ministry)\n\nNow remember that I make it so plain, that the Lord could not teach our Grace Gospel, which is that \"Christ died, was buried, and rose from the dead.\" That hadn't happened yet. The Twelve disciples didn't understand any of that either. In fact, let's just take time and look at what the Scriptures say about that. I know people think that I'm coming out of the woodwork most of the time when I make a statement like that. So rather than just relying on tradition as a lot of people do, I have to back everything up with Scripture. You see they couldn't be preaching our Grace Gospel of the death, burial, and resurrection for Salvation for the whole human race, because:\n\n—Christ was dealing with His covenant people, Israel. And the whole basis of Salvation was still under the Law of Moses, but now it was an added responsibility to repent, and follow it with water baptism, but the crux of the whole thing was, they had to believe Who Jesus was. They had to believe that He was the Christ, their Messiah.\n\n—Then after Salvation goes to the Gentile world through the Apostle Paul, then yes, it becomes the Gospel of Grace, based on His death, burial, and resurrection.\n\nSo let's look at it in Luke chapter 18, and let's drop in at verse 31. My, these are interesting verses and should settle the argument when people try to tell me that Jesus and the Twelve preached the Gospel that we believe (that Christ was going to die, and that He was going to be buried, and He was going to be resurrected). See, that's probably their argument. \"Well, no it hadn't happened, but they knew it was going to happen.\" No they didn't know, and these verses make it so plain. This took place toward the end of His ministry. They're up there in Caesarea Philippi, and they're going on up to Jerusalem for the crucifixion.\n\nLuke 18:31 – 33\n\n\"Then he took unto him the twelve, and said unto them, Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of man shall be accomplished. (that is concerning Jesus of Nazareth) 32. For he shall be delivered unto the Gentiles, (to the Romans) and shall be mocked, and spitefully entreated. and spitted on: 33. And they shall scourge him, and put him to death, and the third day he shall rise again.\"\n\nIs that plain? Well, you can't make it any plainer. Why weren't the disciples sitting outside the tomb, which no doubt was in the sidewall of a limestone cliff, waiting for the great event that resurrection morning? Well, they didn't know that He was going to be raised from the dead. But remember Jesus had just told them that, but they didn't know. And it isn't until you get to John chapter 20, when Peter and John run into the tomb, and see the evidence of resurrection that the Scriptures says, \"and they believed. For as yet then knew not the Scripture that He must rise from the dead.\" How could they not know when Jesus told them? Well the answer is in the next verse.\n\nLuke 18:34\n\n\"And they (the Twelve) understood none of these things: and this saying was hid from them, neither knew they the things which were spoken.\" Well Who hid it from them? God did.\n\nDeuteronomy 29:29a\n\n\"The secret things belong unto the LORD our God: but those thing which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever,...\"\n\nWell, all that says is: that God in His Sovereignty can keep things secret so far as men are concerned until He is ready for them to understand. So it was not time for these men to know that He was going to be put to death, and they were not to know that He was to be raised from the dead, although prophecy was full of it. But these men couldn't put all that together, and so when all this took place (you know the events around His crucifixion), Peter vowed up and down with curse words and swearing that he never knew our Lord. The others evidently scattered like quail. They had no idea that He was going to be raised from the dead, and when Mary Magdalene went to the tomb in John chapter 20, what did she go for? Well, to anoint the corpse, because she had no idea that He was going to be resurrected from the dead.\n\nAnd yet He had spoken it three times throughout His earthly ministry, but God did not open their understanding. So Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb with the idea of anointing Jesus' body, as was the custom, and low and behold the tomb is empty. And on top of that, she still doesn't think He's raised from the dead, but rather somebody must have robbed His tomb. So she runs back and finds Peter and John and says, \"They have taken away the Lord out of sepulchre, and we know not where they have laid him.\" By now Peter and John are all shook up, so what do they do? They run to the sepulchre, and when they get there they go in and see the evidence, the linen clothes lying there as if the body came right out of it. The head napkin folded up, so they had the evidence. And then that's where I previously quoted the verse, \"For as yet they knew not the Scriptures that He must rise again from the dead.\"\n\nNow here's the reason. Even though Jesus explicitly told them what was going to happen, they understood none of these things as we saw in verse 34. But you see they weren't supposed to because God kept that from them. Now the reason I always point this out so graphically over and over, is because when Paul comes along and claims that all of his revelations had been kept secret, we can understand then why all of Paul's revelations were hidden from the Twelve disciples, and everyone before them. They had been kept secret in the mind of God until He was ready to reveal them to this man, the Apostle to the Gentiles in this Age of Grace.\n\nLESSON THREE * PART I\n\nHow Shall We Escape\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\nNow as we open the Scriptures, we trust that the Holy Spirit will speak to hearts, and it seems to be working. My, our mail is just so rewarding, that over and over for the first time in their lives, they're enjoying their Bible. So we just trust that you'll continue to grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord.\n\nNow getting back to our Bible study of comparing Scripture with Scripture. At the present we're still in the Book of Hebrews, and periodically I like to come back as we teach this book and make some of the introductory remarks again. Because this is a book that I think is totally misunderstood, because people do not understand that the Book of Hebrews was first and foremost directed to Hebrews. Some were believers, but it was written primarily for those of the Hebrews that were on the fence.\n\nAnyone who had been steeped in a religion or a cult for a lifetime can get a good understanding of where these Jewish people were. They were being pulled into this whole new concept of Paul's revelation of the grace of God, but on the other hand they were being pulled back into Judaism. Remember it's not easy to let go of something that you've had a whole lifetime of being steeped in.\n\nSo this is the whole thrust of the Book of Hebrews, to show, yes, where they had been was good, the Law was good—I mean after all it had carried Israel for 1500 years. But now, this tremendous grace is so much better. So this is what we're going to be showing throughout the Book of Hebrews. For example the angels were great, but Christ is greater. The Aaronic priesthood was good, but the priesthood after the order of Melchisedec is better.\n\nSo, all the way through this book, Hebrews is going to be directed to those kinds of Jews who are primarily not able to make up their minds to make the break from Judaism. But as we study all the rest of Scripture, it is also for our learning as Gentile believers. In fact, before we even look at Hebrews come back for a moment to the Book of Romans chapter 15 and verse 4. This is a verse I use so often when we teach the Old Testament or even the Four Gospels, this is a verse that Paul writes so distinctly. And as we study the book of Hebrews keep this verse uppermost in your thinking. Even though it's written to Jews, there is so much that's in the book of Hebrews for our learning. Always remember, too, that once we get into Paul's doctrine of grace, there is now no difference between Jew and Gentile. So even though it's directed to the Jew, it is also directed to us.\n\nRomans 15:4\n\n\"For whatsoever things were written aforetime (now that primarily goes for the Old Testament, but I think it also applies to the Four Gospels, as I think they were written before Paul's letters, so I think we're safe to also include the Four Gospels here) were written for our learning, that we (as believers in this Age of Grace) through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.\"\n\nAnd you remember I've been using, over the last several months, those two verses in Peter's epistles, where Peter admonished his readers, which were also primarily Jews, that they were to go to the epistles of Paul if they really wanted to find the plan of Salvation. And in that next verse, he says, \"As also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things; (of Salvation) hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest,...\" So he makes it so plain that even Paul's letters are included in that word 'Scriptures.'\n\nNow I think we can come back to Hebrews with that as an introduction that we're going to study the Book of Hebrews, realizing that it was written first and foremost to Hebrews who were having a hard time making that break, away from Judaism and into this tremendous Gospel of Grace, but it is also a Book that is for our learning. Now in the last lesson, we spent a little time in Hebrews chapter 2:3, but after Jerry sent me the transcript of that last lesson, I thought there was still so much that I didn't even scratch the surface of. So I'm going to look at verse 3 again this afternoon, and we'll dig out a little more than we did before. So let's just begin with verse 1 so we can pick up the flow, because in chapter 1 we pointed out that Jesus of Nazareth was the Son. And it was in the Son that God completed the plan of redemption, and through the Son that our sins were purged, and then He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, never again to be humiliated with the death of the cross, as that had already now been accomplished. And the first word, \"Therefore\" is referring back to chapter 1.\n\nHebrews 2:1\n\n\"Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them slip.\"\n\nIn other words we have to be sure that we hang onto these things that God has revealed to us, and that we have appropriated them by faith.\n\nHebrews 2:2a\n\n\"For if the word spoken by angels was stedfast,...\"\n\nWhich was a reference to the Ten Commandments, and we made the point in the last lesson that there are, I think, two places in Scripture where the angels are included in that giving of the Law. Now, normally we don't think of that. We think of the Law as having been written by the finger of God on the tables of stone, but two different places it says it was given by the work of the angels. So this is what Paul is referring to here.\n\nHebrews 2:1\n\n\"For if the word (Law) spoken by angels was stedfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompence of reward;\"\n\nNow I've got to stop there and remind you, and I made the point when were teaching it, that the Law was severe! The Law was severe and there was no circumventing it, there was no compromising it. The Law said if you were caught picking up sticks on the Sabbath, what was the punishment? Death! So there was no twisting or compromising it, so this is what Paul is reminding us here. That even the Law that was given by the angels up there on Mount Sinai, it received a just recompence of reward. In other words, God is always true to His own Word. Now verse 3, and this is where we're going to spend at least a program and maybe even two or more on these next three parts of verse 3.\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation;..\"\n\nNow I'm going to divide them into three parts. \"How shall we escape,\" is part one. \"if we neglect\" That's part two. \"so great salvation;\" is part three.\n\nNow if I was the kind that set up a point sermon, that would be it. A good three-point sermon, \"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great Salvation.\" So I think if nothing else this afternoon, if you can remember these three aspects of this verse, we will have accomplished something. So now let's look at the first part.\n\nHebrews 2:3a\n\n\"How shall we escape,...\"\n\nWell escape what? Come back with me now to Malachi chapter 1. That's the last Book in the Old Testament so that's real easy to find. And this is the question that we're going to answer, \"How shall we escape?\" Now of course the \"we\" is speaking of the whole human race in general. Yes, it's written to Jews who could not make up their mind to come on in, but it's also written to unbelieving Gentiles, which of course we were. See, we can never take ourselves out of the picture. Now as believers we've already escaped it, haven't we? We don't have to worry about the indication or the wrath of God, because all of that's been laid on Christ for all of us who have believed. But we're still part and parcel of the human race who in one way or another were faced with this something to escape from. Remember this is the Old Testament, and we're still dealing here with the tribes that surrounded Israel, and in this case it's Edom, the offspring of Esau.\n\nMalachi 1:4\n\n\"Whereas Edom saith, We are impoverished, but we will return and build the desolate places; thus saith the LORD of hosts, They shall build, but I will throw down; and they shall call them, the border of wickedness, and, the people against whom the LORD hath indignation (for how long?) forever.\"\n\nNow that's a blanket statement, not just for the Edomites, but for all those who have rejected God's offer of Salvation. Now I'm going to take you into Matthew chapter 25, and this is just two of the many instances when Jesus spoke of the doom of the lost. I think you've all heard at one time or another, maybe even from your own pulpit, that Jesus spoke far more of the eternal destiny of the lost, than He did of heaven. He spoke a lot more, and I'm just going to give you two of them that are real easy to find. And this is Jesus speaking here in this passage, so if you have a red letter edition, then it will be in red, and He is speaking during His earthly ministry.\n\nMatthew 25:29 – 30\n\n\"For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath. 30. And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.\" Now that includes the lost of all the ages. Now you can come up to verse 41 of the same chapter.\n\nMatthew 25:41\n\n\"Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels:\"\n\nPlain English? It can't get any plainer than that. That is the future for the lost of the ages. Now come up to Romans if you will, chapter 2, and verse 3. Now here in Romans, this is from the pen of the Apostle Paul. I'll wait until you find it, because I want people to see it with their own eyes. Don't go by what I say, but rather by what the Book says.\n\nRomans 2:3\n\n\"And thinkest thou this, O man, that judgest them which do such things, (a Pharisee type individual) and doest the same, that thou shall escape the judgment of God?\"\n\nAnd of course the answer is obvious, \"They will not escape!\" Now I Thessalonians chapter 5 is the next one. I'm going to start at verse 1, but verse 3 is where we will find the word \"escape.\"\n\nI Thessalonians 5:1 – 3\n\n\"But of the times and the seasons, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you. 2. For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. 3. For when they shall say, Peace and safety; (what does that sound like? Well that sounds like the politicians right now today. Oh, they're always trying to bring in world peace, and when they say peace and safety) then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child and they shall not escape.\"\n\nThey're lost, do you see that? Now let's go on into Hebrews chapter 10, and we'll use verse 30 and 31. And remember the whole theme of these verses is, \"The lost will never escape if they leave this life never having cashed in on God's offer of Salvation—they are doomed!\" And this is the reason.\n\nHebrews 10:30a\n\n\"For we know him that hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me,...\"\n\nNow we've got to stop and ask ourselves, \"How can God say that? How can God say some of these things we've been looking at?\"\n\n\"Well you see the reason is, when He finished the plan of Salvation, when Christ suffered at the hands of those Roman soldiers, and even as He went down the road to Golgotha, and they laid the heavy cross upon Him, and He fell under the weight of it, suffering every step of the way. And that was only the very tip of the iceberg compared to when they nailed Him to the cross, lifted it up, and then the epitome of it all, was not just the physical suffering, but God laid on Him the punishment and the wrath of God, that would take away the sin, of not just the small percentage of believers, but rather for the whole world! The whole world was laid on Him, that was the suffering that He accomplished on the world's behalf. And then God turned right around and through the power of His resurrection and the power of new life, offered it freely to the whole world. I mean FREE, and that's Grace.\"\n\nNow after God has done all that, and then lays it out to be had free (for nothing), and men walk it under foot, do you really think he's being unfair then by coming back with the vengeance, and the wrath that is promised? Of course not—be reasonable. He's already paid the sin debt, it's all done, but mortal man will not give in. So consequently, verse 30:\n\nHebrews 10:30\n\n\"For we know him that hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me, I will recompense, saith the Lord, And again, The Lord shall judge his people.\"\n\nNow first and foremost we're talking about the Nation of Israel, but we're also talking about the whole human race, in fact, come back to Romans chapter 3 for a moment. As you know, I hit these verses as they come to mind. Here in Romans chapter 3, maybe this will help us understand what I'm talking about in Hebrews all the time. Yes, Hebrews was written primarily to the Jew, because that's what it says, \"To the Hebrews.\" But listen we can't just say, \"Oh well that's not for me, that's for the Jew.\" No, we're all in the same boat now, because God has reached out beyond the Nation of Israel, and the whole world is now part and parcel of all this.\n\nRomans 3:19a\n\n\"Now we know that what things soever the law saith, (the Mosaic system) it saith to them who are under the law:...\"\n\nNow I think everyone of you in this room know, who was under the Law? Israel. The rest of the world didn't come under the Mosaic Law. God didn't expect the Babylonians, Egyptians, and Greeks, to come to Temple worship. That was only for the Nation of Israel. Now read on.\n\nRomans 3:19b\n\n\"...it saith to them who are under the law that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God.\"\n\nDo you see how plain that is? Yes the Law was given to Israel, and Israel was expected to abide by it, not the rest of the world. But the condemnation of the Law went to every human being, and not just Israel. Do you see how it reaches? Yes, for those under Law it was a system, it was worship, it was modus operandi, but the condemnation of the Law went to the whole world, not just Israel. Now with that as a backdrop, come back to Hebrews chapter 10 again. So, it's the whole world, not just Israel who are under the anathema and the wrath and the vengeance of a Holy God, because He made Salvation possible not just for Israel, but the whole human race. Now verse 31. Consequently:\n\nHebrews 10:31\n\n\"It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.\"\n\nDo you know why? Because He can do what He says He will do. He is all powerful, He's Sovereign, and He will keep His Word, and when He says that the lost are going to suffer indignation forever, then you'd better bet your last dollar that it's going to happen, because He Sovereign, He's the One Who has spoken it. So all of these references are merely to show us that yes, God is a God of grace. God is not willing that any should perish, but when they reject his offer, then He has every right in His Sovereignty and in His Holiness, to bring about their doom and judgment. Now let's go a little bit further, in the few moments we have left, to the Book of Revelation, chapter 20.\n\nI'll never forget, I was supposed to be teaching for an hour one Sunday morning in a Church in a state a long way from Oklahoma, and it was one of those times, I got up to teach, and I just didn't know where to start. I was just sort of standing there dumfounded, and in order to get a trigger to what I should be bringing, a gentlemen in the back of the room, said, \"Well Les, you're always talking about we're under grace, faith + nothing, without works—then how do you explain the word 'works' in Revelation chapter 20?\" Well I was just dumfounded, and I said, \"Do you realize what you're opening?\" Well I didn't give him time to answer me, and told the audience, \"Let's turn to Revelation 20.\" Well that's the Great White Throne judgment for the lost!\n\nAfter the lesson was over one of the gentlemen came up and said, \"Les, we haven't heard hell-fire in this church for 50 years.\" I said, \"Well, he opened it, I didn't.\" But here it is, and it's true. Hardly anybody touches this anymore, because they don't want to hear it, because it's a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. This is when all of this judgment will come to a head. This is when all the lost of all the ages from Cain on up to the last lost human being that comes off the earth will be meeting at the Great White Throne Judgment for their punishment. So let's start at verse 11.\n\nRevelation 20:11 – 12\n\n\"And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away: and there was found no place for them. (that is the earth and universe) 12. And I saw the dead, (the lost. There will be no believers at the Great White Throne) small and great, stand before God; (So they've been resurrected, and will be standing before Him bodily, not with a body fit for bliss in glory, but rather with a body that's fit for their doom, the lake of fire) and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life; and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.\"\n\nWhich is a record of their deeds during their life on earth. Now verse 13.\n\nRevelation 20:13\n\n\"And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; (in other words nobody is going to miss this that is lost. Every lost person from the very beginning of the human experience until the end is going to be brought up before this Great White Throne. My, what a horrible place that's going to be, and Christ will sit as the Judge, not as the Saviour that He is for you and I as believers. Because He has been pleading with mankind throughout their whole lifetime, but now they are judged:) every man according to their works.\"\n\nNow verse 15, and what a horrible statement, and that's why most people try to avoid it, but it's in your Bible, and what does it say?\n\nRevelation 20:15\n\n\"And whosever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire.\"\n\nLESSON THREE * PART II\n\nHow Shall We Escape\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\nNow you can be turning with me to Hebrews chapter 2, and we're going to pick right up again with verse 3. I don't know how much longer we'll be in it, but we'll pick as much out of this verse as we can, because that's what makes Bible study interesting. Now I don't know how many of you know about the operation of the Jewish Rabbi's and the ones who study Scriptures. But all the way up through their history they would sit and maybe spend days, and maybe even weeks, on one verse. Maybe they've got all the commentaries of all the other Rabbis and know what everyone else has said, but they'll look at that verse, and study it to see what other meaning they can pull out of it.\n\nWell, I'm not going to go to that extreme, but I do love to just see how much you can pull out of a particular statement in Scripture, by comparing it with other Scriptures. That's the name of the game you know, building Scripture on Scripture. So we'll be staying here in Hebrews 2:3 for at least this lesson, and maybe the next one also.\n\nWe also want to thank you for all your letters, but most of all for your prayers. My how we love your letters when you tell us that you're praying for us every day. Some of you say, you pray for us two or three times a day. Well that's what we need, because we know that the Devil is quite the adversary, he's powerful, and yet we do feel that the prayers of the saints are more powerful. Now that's all we need for opening comment, so let's get into the Book and once again look at verse 3. In the last half hour we looked at the first 3 or 4 words, \"How shall we escape.\" Now we'll move on.\n\nHebrews 2:3a\n\n\"How shall we escape, (that is the wrath, and doom, and eternal lostness) if we neglect so great salvation;...\"\n\nNow that word neglect, I think we all experience it. I know I try to tell my sons in our ranching business, you know you can't get careless, you can't cut corners and say, \"Oh well, we'll do it tomorrow or next week,\" because just as sure as do, it's going to hit you in the pocket book. So, neglect, you see is a word that catches us almost everyday of our lives regardless of what our lifestyle is. Neglect leads to carelessness and it means the same thing here.\n\nIn fact as I was mulling over these things last night, and I haven't even had time to share it with Iris. Quite a few years ago, I think back in the early 1980's we were driving across New Mexico, and I'm sure some of you have been on that same state highway; it's not an interstate. Anyway you're driving along on a flat table top plateau, and all of a sudden you come to the Rio Grande River which is just a gorge, and way, way down is that little Rio Grande River, and of course the bridge goes right on over it. So you come down a very gentle incline and cross the bridge.\n\nWell, they had a walkway on the bridge, and we got to the other side, and I thought, boy this is unique, so we stopped and parked to walk back on the walkway. There were a couple of other couples who had also stopped and were out on the walkway, and they were looking way down at the bottom, where there was a beautiful motor home that was smashed up and ruined. They were all discussing it, so I asked what in the world had happened? Well the couple who owned the motor home, had pulled off the shoulder on the east side of the bridge, got out, came down on the bridge where we were, and they neglected to set the brake or put it in gear. And while they were on the bridge, that motor home started rolling, and just almost as if somebody steered it, just before it got to bridge, which had no guard rails, over it went, down into the bottom of that gorge, totally destroying it.\n\nWell what prompted that accident? Neglect! Just a moment of neglect, and isn't that exactly what people are doing with their eternal doom? They're neglecting the most important thing in life, and that is to accept God's offer of Salvation, and escape that eternal doom. Now with that as a backdrop,\n\nHebrews 3:2a\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation;...\"\n\nIt isn't that Salvation isn't there. I mentioned it so often in John chapter 10, the chapter on the good shepherd—where is the door of the sheepfold? Right at ground level. Not up on some high cliff or across some raging river, but rather it's right at ground level, and in front of every lost person throughout their life. All they have to do is step in by faith, but they neglect to do that. Alright, let's just use a couple of Scripture verses to point that out.\n\nHebrews 3:2a\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation;...\"\n\nAlright we'll stop right there and come back to Matthew chapter 22, where the same Greek word, in a little bit different form, nevertheless it's the same Greek root word here in this chapter, and let's look at verses 1 – 5. But in order to get the real meaning of the verse, I guess we should go to the beginning of the parable, because this is the Lord Jesus speaking during His earthly ministry, and remember these parables again were directed primarily to the Jewish people, and the Pharisees in particular. In fact while you're in this chapter just go back a chapter to 21:45, because I always like to use this verse to explain to people what I mean when I say, that everything Jesus said, was said to Jews under the Law. So let's look at that passage first.\n\nMatthew 21:45\n\n\"And when the chief priests and Pharisees had heard his parables, they perceived that he spake of them.\"\n\nDo you see how plain that is? They understood that all His parables were directed to them, because they were the ones that were so guilty. Now you come into chapter 22, He gives another parable.\n\nMatthew 22:1\n\n\"And Jesus answered and spake unto them again by parables, (So who do you think He's directing it to? Well the chief priest and the Pharisees) 2. The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son, 3. And sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the wedding: and they would not come. 4. Again, he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them which are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come unto the marriage. 5. But they made light of it, (they neglected it, they didn't pay any attention. They neglected their invitation to the wedding feast. So in their neglecting it, what was their response?) and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise;\"\n\nBut instead of responding to the invitation they neglected paying any attention to that invitation to the marriage feast. Now I think I've got another one in chapter 23, at least I hope that's the one I want. Here the Lord Jesus, and you've all seen pictures of it on somebody's wall, where He's looking out over Jerusalem. And it is a thought provoking picture, no doubt about it. But this is what He's saying:\n\nMatthew 23:37\n\n\"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!\"\n\nWhy not? They neglected. They didn't pay any mind. He's making reference of course to the whole Old Testament economy when the prophets were constantly warning Israel of their chastisement, how that other nations would over run them, and then, he says: \"You would not.\" So consequently because of their neglect He says:\n\nMatthew 23:38\n\n\"Behold, your house is left unto you desolate.\"\n\nOh, what awful condemnation, but that wasn't God's fault. God pleaded with them, and pleaded with them, and pleaded with them. \"But they would not!\" Now let's turn to the Book of Acts, chapter 2 for a little bit and pick up this same thought. This is on the Pentecostal sermon that Peter is preaching. This vast crowd of Jews has gathered for the Feast of Pentecost. Remember this is just 50 days after the crucifixion, and here's the same response, total neglect.\n\nActs 2:22 – 23\n\n\"Ye men of Israel, hear these words; Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you by miracles and wonders and signs, which God did by him in the midst of you, as ye yourselves also know: 23. Him, being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and slain:\"\n\nWhy would they do this? They neglected to understand that He was the promised Messiah. He proved it for 3 years, but they spurned Him, and neglected even as those who were invited to the wedding feast we read about a few moment ago. Now let's go over a little further, still in the Book of Acts. So come on over to chapter 24, when Paul has now come on the scene, and let's drop in at verse 24. Here Paul is being accused, and supposedly being brought to trial.\n\nActs 24:24\n\n\"And after certain days, when Felix came with his wife Drusilla, which was a Jewess, he sent for Paul, and heard him concerning the faith in Christ. (now you all know this, I know you do. But I want to give you another thought on it.) 25. And as he reasoned (Felix, this governor or whatever his title may have been, but as he reasoned) of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered. Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee. 26. He hoped also that money should have been given him of Paul, that he might loose him:...\"\n\nWhat's Felix doing? Neglecting Salvation. He's putting it off to his own doom. Oh, the constant reminder in Scripture is, \"Don't put it off\" because the Scripture says, \"Now is the day of Salvation.\" Not tomorrow or next year, but now. Now let's come back to Hebrews chapter 2, and we'll go on a little further in the verse.\n\nHebrews 2:3a\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation;...\"\n\nHow are we going to miss the doom of the lost, if we neglect or spurn or postpone so great a Salvation. Now listen, I'm afraid the average well-intentioned church member doesn't realize what a great Salvation has been offered to the human race. It's the inhuman understanding. It's just totally beyond us. Alright now I'm going to bring you back again to Romans and this time chapter 1. This is a verse that most of you probably know from memory. Let's drop down to verse 16. And remember, \"How can we escape, and how can the human race escape if they neglect, or treat lightly so great a Salvation.\n\nRomans 1:16\n\n\"For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it (the Gospel) is the power of God unto salvation to every one that (repents and is baptized? No! Your Bible doesn't say that and neither does mine, or anything else you can put in there. This great Salvation has now become accessible to everyone that) believeth; (It's faith, it's trusting this Gospel. So it's to everyone that believeth,) to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.\"\n\nAlright, so great a Salvation. Now let's go look at Philippians chapter 2. I'm going to wear your Bibles out today, and I thought of that even as I was preparing last night, that we're going to do a lot of page turning today. And the whole idea that we want to keep in our minds for at least this program and maybe on into the next one is, \"this great Salvation.\" These are verses we use periodically.\n\nPhilippians 2:5 – 8\n\n\"Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus; 6. Who, (God the Son as we saw in Hebrews 1. Who) being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: (He was God. He was the Creator of everything) 7. But (even though He was the Creator God, He) made himself (He was forced into it) of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, (bond slave, the lowest level in the human economy) and was made in the likeness of men: 8. And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.\"\n\nNow again our human intellect cannot comprehend all of this. It's just beyond us. We cannot put together and get a full understanding of all that was in the mind of God when He preprogrammed that horrible death of crucifixion. You see, when you go back into the time of Moses, when the serpents were running rampant through Israel, what did Moses put up in the midst of the camp. Well the brazen serpent. And the whole idea was that if the people would look up at that brazen serpent, then they would be healed of their snakebites. Then you come along to John's Gospel, and what does he say? \"The Son of man had to be lifted up.\" He had to be lifted up in order to fulfill the type of the brazen serpent.\n\nSo it had to be the death by crucifixion, because no other death would have lifted him up. He had to be the cursed One, because again you go back into the Old Testament economy, when there was a no good son, and nobody could do anything with him, what had to happen? Well they had to put him to death, but after they had stoned him, what did they do with his body? Hung it on a pole. And again what was the whole picture? Cursed is everyone that hangs on a tree. So those were all prototypes of what Christ would fulfill in that horrible death by crucifixion. But you see in God's Sovereign way of thinking, it had to be, as nothing else would have worked. But you see we can't comprehend that, at least I can't, and I don't think anybody can.\n\nAnd it's the same way with the soul that sins. In fact come back with me to the Book of Genesis chapter 2, because we've got to see this with our own eyes once in a while, because it makes a better impact, I think. Let's drop down to verse 17, and this is right at the beginning of the human experience. Yes, even before Eve is even on the scene. Adam had to teach this little piece of knowledge to his wife Eve at some later point, because Adam is alone when this happens. So here the Lord is instructing Adam of his habitation in the Garden of Eden.\n\nGenesis 2:17\n\n\"But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.\"\n\nWhy? Because the day he would eat, he would be a disobedient person, and disobedience is sin, and sin and death go together. So the whole purpose then of Christ having to die, is to overcome the death that was precipitated by sin. Now when you start putting all that together, it's mind boggling. Is it any wonder, then, that the Bible calls it, \"so great a Salvation?\" It is so great that we can never fathom it. And that's why the Lord has been gracious, and let us take it only by faith. There's no way we can finally pass the exam, and say, \"Well Lord I'm ready, so test me, because I've got all the answers.\" No, we'd never get there. We would always fail it, so He's made it real simple. We just come into Salvation by faith, by believing as much as we can understand, and then as a believer we begin to comprehend a little more all the time. But listen, this is such a great Salvation that no one can understand the total ramification of it.\n\nNow let's go to I Corinthians chapter 1 and look at a few more verses. You also want to remember that Paul's letters are directed to you and I as recipients of God's Grace, the Church Age. All the rest of Scripture, as we saw in the last program, is written for our learning, but these of Paul are written to us. Not just for us, but rather to us. So in this passage, my, we can just sink our teeth into it, and say, \"this is God speaking to me,\" even though it's through the apostle's pen, it's still God speaking to you and I. Here, I always like to start with verse 17. I know this throws a curve at a lot of people, but it's what the Book says, it's not what Les Feldick says, but rather what the Book says.\n\nI Corinthians 1:17\n\n\"For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, (in other words, not with some fast talking, whatever. You know, even Apollos was a great orator, but it took a couple of little Jewish lay people to teach him the truth. So he doesn't come with wisdom of words) lest the cross of Christ should be made of none effect.\"\n\nListen, at the heart of everything is that work of the cross. Now verse 18, and remember what I'm still harping on, \"How great a Salvation.\" And for the most part mankind is neglecting it, and because they're neglecting it, they're never going to escape their doom. So don't lose sight of that.\n\nI Corinthians 1:18\n\n\"For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; (how true. The average person here in the Bible belt does not feel it's the cross that makes the difference) but unto us which are saved it (the preaching of the cross) is the power of God.\"\n\nNow you've heard me say it on this program over and over, \"it took more power to save this sinner, and you as a sinner, than it did to create the universe.\" Now you may think that's a play on words, but listen, who held us chained to our lost estate? Satan did. Satan held every one of us, but Who alone could break that chain? The work of the cross! Well, we've only got a minute left so let's continue on right here in I Corinthians chapter 1. Let's begin at verse 22, and remember this whole idea is, \"this great Salvation,\" based upon this preaching of the cross.\n\nI Corinthians 1:22\n\n\"For the Jews require a sign, (and we'll be looking at that in a further program in Hebrews chapter 2. Oh, they were always saying, \"show us a sign.\" And Christ did with wonders and miracles, but the Greeks on the other hand didn't care about signs, and miracles, all they wanted was what?)and the Greeks seek after wisdom:\"\n\nBut for us God satisfies both sides of the coin, as He gives us the power of God, and the wisdom!\n\nLESSON THREE * PART III\n\nHow Shall We Escape\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\nNow we always like to make it plain that we're not associated with anybody, we don't try to destroy or attack anyone, nor lift any one group up over another. I'm just a layman, a cattle rancher, that the Lord has seen fit to use me, from a lay person's point of view, to just simply teach the Scriptures and help people. As our letters say over and over, \"for the very first time in our life, we're reading our Bible and understanding what we read.\"Well that's all we're trying to do.\n\nNow we're in the Book of Hebrews and we've been stressing ever since we started this study in Hebrews that it is addressed primarily to Jewish people who were having a hard time making the break from Judaism and the Law, and to step into this tremendous Salvation of the Grace of God. Now I can sympathize with people who have that problem. I know I have a lady who used to be in our class and was in a cult, or at least I would call it that, and oh, she wrestled with it for years. But finally one day with a broad smile on her face she said, \"Well Les, I've finally whipped it and can finally let go, because this was drummed into me since I was 3 years old.\" So it's not easy to turn your back on something that has been hammered into us for years and years.\n\nBut this Book of Hebrews is just going to trumpet Who Jesus of Nazareth really was. Now you want to remember that during Christ's earthly ministry, that the purpose of all His signs and wonders and miracles was to prove to the Jewish people of His day that He was the promised Messiah, and we'll probably be touching on that sometime in the next few programs. But nevertheless, remember that the purpose of the Book of Hebrews is to prove to these Jewish people Who He really was, and Who He is, and that He is the supreme God of the universe. He's not just another person below the Father, because He and the Father and the Spirit are ONE!\n\nSo as we saw in our last lesson, He brought about this great Salvation, and not just for Israel, but rather for the whole human race. Now let's come right back, and we're still in verse 3, hopefully we'll finish verse 3 in this half hour, and maybe go into the next verse in our last program this afternoon.\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation; which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, (that is by the Son, the One we're emphasizing here in these first two chapters) and was confirmed unto us by them that heard him:\"\n\nNow I guess the best place to start is, \"What do we mean by this Salvation which was first spoken by the Lord Himself?\" So turn back to Matthew, and we'll go into His earthy ministry again, because I think if anything else I've stressed in my years of teaching, and I think most of you and our listening audience out in television land are beginning to understand, is that the Bible is a progressive revelation. They didn't have everything back there in Genesis, and the prophets still didn't know it all. The Twelve didn't get a grasp of it all, because it was a progressive thing.\n\nSo as we progress on up through human history, and we come up through the Scriptures, then we finally come to this place where the Apostle Paul becomes the number one player on the stage, and he reveals how that all of these things were coming to the place where Salvation could now go to the whole human race. Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but by faith in what Christ accomplished in His death, burial, and resurrection. Alright, but we're not there yet in Christ's earthly ministry, He's still in the Kingdom economy, so come back to Matthew chapter 4, and let's just drop in at verse 17. We're not going to stay here very long, we're going to shoot right back to Genesis in a minute, but this is a good jumping off place from what he meant in Hebrews, that this great Salvation which at the beginning was spoken by the Lord Himself.\n\nMatthew 4:17\n\n\"From that time Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.\"\n\nWell, what was He talking about? He had come to them to present Himself to Israel as their Messiah, their Redeemer, and their King. Now where do we get all that. Well let's go all the way back to Genesis, even though I'm sure Paul is making the original reference to the Lord's earthly ministry there in Hebrews 2:3, but yet I think we can take the opportunity to go all the way back to when it all began in Genesis chapter 3, where we have the first prophetic utterance concerning the coming of a Redeemer and Saviour for the whole human race.\n\nGenesis 3:15, a verse that most of you know forward and backwards, and this is just after the fall of mankind. Adam and Eve have just eaten of the tree, prompted, of course, by the adversary, the old tempter, the Devil himself. So God is dealing with Satan, and He's making him a promise. A promise that He fulfilled when He finished the work of the cross. So God says:\n\nGenesis 3:15\n\n\"And I will put enmity between thee (Satan) and the woman, and between thy seed (the forces of Satan, and his whole demonic system of power. It would be an enmity between that) and her seed; (or the Seed of the woman, and we know from Galatians chapter 3, that the Seed of the woman was Christ. And He came through the woman, she was the vehicle) it (the Seed of the woman, Christ) shall bruise thy head, (that's where you defeat a snake, you kill it at its head. So that's where we struck Satan his death blow at the cross, but Satan got in his lick by making Christ suffer) and thou shall bruise his heel.\"\n\nNow then the next great event in human history that leads to the coming of our great Salvation is the Abrahamic Covenant in Genesis chapter 12. It's been a long time since we've covered that on the program, and so we're going to hit it again. You know I'm always apologizing for repeating, and even though people write constantly and say, \"keep repeating\" I always feel that once I've said something, that should settle it.\n\nI read a book again the other night, and I won't give you the title or contents, because it was a book that was in total opposition to everything that I teach, so it took something to stay with it, but the author proved something to me. He uses one verse of Scripture throughout that whole book, and on some pages he used it four times, now that's repetition. Over and over he's coming from only that one verse of Scripture—I mean riding it like a hobby horse. Well I have to look at my own teaching and compared to that, I don't repeat much at all. But some of these important things we do repeat and here's one of them, the Abrahamic Covenant. I've taught it and taught and taught it, because it is so fundamental to this great Salvation. Now verse 1 of Genesis chapter 12, and remember this is half way between Adam and Christ's first advent:\n\nGenesis 12:1\n\n\"Now the LORD had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will shew thee: (which of course will be the land of Canaan.) 2. And I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: 3. And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse them that curseth thee: (now here comes the promise on which your Salvation and mine rests) and in thee (Abraham) shall all families of the earth be blessed.\"\n\nNow I maintain that Abraham had no idea what God had in mind. Abraham had a to wait a long time before he even got his first son, and how can you get a nation until you have a son? But from that one son, Isaac, there came another generation with one son, Jacob, then finally Jacob has the twelve sons, and the twelve sons and their families end up down in Egypt. Then, after the hundreds of years in Egypt, God raises up the next great character in Scripture, in Moses the deliverer. And Moses leads the Nation of Israel out of bondage. And to that Nation of Israel, He now gives the Law. The Mosaic Law was a whole idea of preparing that nation of people for the coming of a Redeemer. But according to the Abrahamic Covenant it was to be more than just a Redeemer, He was also to be a Messiah and a King over an earthly Kingdom.\n\nAnd all of these things begin to snowball as you come up through human history, leading up to the day when Christ makes that initial appearance to the Nation of Israel. Now come back again to Matthew chapter 4, and we see He started His ministry crying:\n\nMatthew 4:b\n\n\"...Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.\"\n\nNow come on over to chapter 9, and remember the basis for me doing this. \"How shall we escape if we neglect so great a Salvation, which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord.\" Do you see where I'm coming from? Alright then, how did the Lord come? By virtue of the promises made to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and the prophets—and now here He is, and makes His appearance. Now let's begin with verse 35, and this is the beginning of His earthly ministry, as we call it.\n\nMatthew 9:35a\n\n\"And Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues,...\"\n\nHow many times have you heard me say it, and I'll keeping saying it as long as the Lord gives me breath, \"When Jesus made His appearance to the Nation of Israel, everything He said and taught was directed to the Nation of Israel and He was under the Law.\" And all I ask people to do is just stop and think, did He ever one time tell the disciples or his followers to quit Temple worship. No, never! Did He ever tell them it was no longer necessary to bring sacrifices? Never! And everything that He taught is in accordance with the Law. Let me give you an example over in chapter 19. Sometimes I start heading for a Scripture, and then I'm not sure I'm going to the right place, but this one I hit right. And this Scripture just confirms what I just told you about Jesus teaching according to the Law. Everything He said, was directed to the Jewish people under the Law, and oh, that's hard for people to understand. This is a whole different economy than where we are today. We're not under Law, we're under Grace, but Jesus ministered under the Law of Moses.\n\nMatthew 19:16\n\n\"And behold, one came and said unto him, Good Master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?\" Is that a good question to the One Who gives eternal life? Absolutely! But look at Jesus' answer.\n\nMatthew 19:17\n\n\"And he said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God: but if thou wilt enter into life, (that is eternal life) keep the commandments.\"\n\nNow a lot of people are trying to get to heaven by using that today. I know they are, because I had a lady call once from out on the East coast one Monday morning. And she said, \"Les I'm confused, because yesterday morning my preacher preached a sermon from Matthew 19, when the young man came and wanted to know what he must do to receive eternal life, and Jesus said, keep the commandments. Then this morning you said, we're not under Law, but rather under Grace. So I'm confused.\"\n\nI said give me five minutes, and maybe we can straighten out your thinking. So I did what I've done in the past few moments, I started with Abraham and just on our phone conversation, brought her all the way up through, and how that we went beyond the cross, and that when Christ was crucified then the Law was crucified with Him, and He arose in resurrection power, and then He revealed to this last apostle, the Apostle Paul, all of these Grace Age revelations, and through that work of the cross the Law has been satisfied and all the sins of the world were laid on Christ, and now we just take it by faith + nothing; it's all done. Do you know what that dear lady's answer to all that was? She said, \"It's all so logical isn't it?\"\n\nYes, it is, if you'll just see the whole picture. But you see, too many people aren't seeing the whole picture, they can only see Christ's earthly ministry. I had a pastor from somewhere down South called just this morning, seeing all this for the first time. He said. \"I've preached the Four Gospels all my life, but you've shown me that's not where it's at, it's in Paul.\" I said, \"Praise the Lord!\" Well I hope we can make the point. Now back to Matthew chapter 9. So Jesus in verse 35:\n\nMatthew 9:35\n\n\"And Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, (according to the Law) and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, (which had been promised all the way since Genesis chapter 12. That through the Abrahamic Covenant would come this Kingdom promised to the Nation of Israel. So He was preaching the good news of the Kingdom) and healing every sickness and every disease among the people.\" Now to show how it was confined to the Nation of Israel, just come across the page to Matthew chapter 10.\n\nMatthew 10:1a\n\n\"And when he had called unto him his twelve disciples,...\" Then it names them. You know them, and I don't have to read them, but then come down to verse 5:\n\nMatthew 10:5a\n\n\"These twelve Jesus sent forth, and commanded them,...\"\n\nNow when I read this verse to my classes, I always stop to make the point, He doesn't suggest and say, \"Well, maybe you'll have a little better result if you do this.\" No He commanded them, and He's the Lord of glory, He's the Creator, He's the God of this universe, and He had every right in the world to command them, and look what He tells them.\n\nMatthew 10:5b\n\n\"...and commanded them, saying, Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not: 6. But go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.\" Do you see how plain that is? He commanded them not to have anything to do with anybody but Jews. And then verse 7.\n\nMatthew 10:7\n\n\"And as ye go, preach, (the same thing He'd been preaching) saying The kingdom of heaven is at hand.\"\n\nAnd along with that they were to have the power of healing and miracles and signs and wonders. Now verse 8.\n\nMatthew 10:8 – 9\n\n\"Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely give. 9. Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses.\"\n\nMy what a different scenario than what we're in today, but that was the Gospel that Jesus was proclaiming to the Nation of Israel. Alright, the other one I like to use with regard to that same Gospel of the Kingdom is in Matthew chapter 16. This is all that Paul is referring to, how that at the beginning the Gospel as we understand it, even in our Gospel of Grace, began back here, but it's a progressive thing. It began with the promises made to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the prophets. It began even further when Jesus appeared to the Nation of Israel, and we're going to see in a little bit how it goes on into Peter's preaching in the Book of Acts. Then it's going to lead to the appearance of that last apostle, the Apostle Paul.\n\nBut here in Christ's earthly ministry, here is what Israel was to have believed under the Law, without giving up anything of the Mosaic system. This was an added requirement of faith. This is toward the end of His earthly ministry, they're up there in northern Israel, and they'll be making their way down to Jerusalem for the crucifixion. But look what happens.\n\nMatthew 16:13 – 16\n\n\"When Jesus came into the coasts of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am? 14. And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets. 15. He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? 16. And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, (the Messiah) the Son of the living God.\"\n\nNow listen that's all they were to believe. That under the Mosaic Law, keeping the commandments, they were to now simply believe this Jesus of Nazareth was the Son of God. And that requirement runs all the way through the Four Gospels. Let me take you on to another one over in John's gospel, chapter 11, and let's come down to verse 23.\n\nJohn 11:23\n\n\"Jesus saith unto her, (Martha) Thy brother shall rise again. 24. Martha saith unto him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day. 25. Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: 26. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this? (now look at her answer. It's almost identical with Peter's answer) 27. She saith unto him, Yea Lord: I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world.\"\n\nNow isn't that obvious? This is all the Gospel now that began with the coming of Christ to the Nation of Israel in fulfillment of all those Old Testament prophecies, but now this was their Gospel, and that's what they had to believe. That He was the Christ, but under the Law. Nobody said anything about no longer keeping the Law. Now let's go to the Book of Acts, and now look at how Peter approaches it in chapter 3. And how this Gospel just keeps moving on through the earthly ministry, past the death, burial, and resurrection, and now we're into Peter's preaching still to the Nation of Israel. Here they've just healed the lame man, and Peter comes on down and reminds them again that they denied the Holy One in verse 14.\n\nActs 3:14a\n\n\"But ye denied the Holy One...\"\n\nIn verse 15 you desired the murderer:\n\nActs 3:15a\n\n\"And killed the Prince of life,...\"\n\nBut now look at verse 16. Here is the continuation of that Gospel of the Kingdom that Jesus began.\n\nActs 3:16\n\n\"And his name though faith in his name hath made this man strong, whom ye see and know: yea, the faith which is by him hath given him this perfect soundness in the presence of your all.\"\n\nHow did that man receive healing, as well no doubt Salvation? By believing that the One Who had been crucified, had risen from the dead, and now it was through faith in that name, that he could receive healing as well as his Salvation.\n\nLESSON THREE * PART IV\n\nHow Shall We Escape\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\nNow as we begin this our fourth lesson for the afternoon, we're still in verse 3, but hopefully we'll finish this verse in this half hour. Remember in our last program we were speaking of this great plan of Salvation:\n\nHebrews 2:3a\n\n\"...which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, (Himself) and was confirmed unto us by them that heard him:\"\n\nRemember in the last lesson I took you all the way back to when God confronted Satan or Lucifer, and how that He then turned to the Abrahamic Covenant and brought everything up through the Nation of Israel to bring about the coming of the Messiah and Redeemer. Then, through Israel's unbelief and rejection, Christ was crucified. Then we moved on up to the Apostle Paul. But now I want to take you back to Acts chapter 7 where Stephen, who was now in consort with Peter and the other eleven there at Jerusalem, approaches the religious leaders of Israel, and the whole idea is the same as what Peter has been trying to do, and that is to convince the Nation of Israel that the One they crucified was the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God. And that, through faith in Him, they could still have Him as their King, and He would bring in the Kingdom. So now in verse 1 we can get the idea where this is being preached or taught.\n\nActs 7:1 – 2a\n\n\"Then said the high priest, Are these things so? (in other words what Stephen had been saying up in chapter 6) 2. And he said, Men, brethren, and fathers, hearken; The God of glory appeared unto our father Abraham,...\" Now that doesn't include a Gentile. Stephen is speaking to the whole nation, but in particular to the religious leaders. So he says:\n\nActs 7:2a\n\n\"And he said, Men, brethren, and fathers, hearken; The God of glory appeared unto our father Abraham,...\"\n\nAnd Stephen brings them all the way up through Israel's history, how that Joseph was not recognized the first time when his brethren went down for grain. But when they went the second time then they understood who Joseph was. He was their redeemer of physical things, as they needed grain. Then the next one was Moses. Moses, too, appeared to the Nation of Israel as their deliverer, but they rejected him the first time. Then he had to come back 40 years later, and then Stephen makes the point that the second time he came to them, they recognized that Moses was indeed the God-sent deliverer, and he led them out of bondage.\n\nThen Stephen takes the story of Israel on up, and he tries to culminate his sermon with the fact that this One they crucified was the Christ. Now verse 57, and Stephen is coming to the end of this whole dissertation.\n\nActs 7:57 – 58\n\n\"Then they (these Jewish leaders in particular, and the Nation of Israel in general) cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one accord. 58. And cast him out of the city, and stoned him: and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man's feet, whose name was Saul.\"\n\nHere we have now a high point in Israel's rejection of everything pertaining to Jesus of Nazareth, and we're introduced to the next major player on the stage of God dealing with mankind and that was Saul of Tarsus. Now verse 59.\n\nActs 7:59 – 60\n\n\"And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. 60. And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep. (died)\n\nAlright that was Israel's final act of rejection concerning Jesus of Nazareth. Now like I said, we were introduced to the next player on the stage and that's the Apostle Paul—and we knew him first as Saul of Tarsus. Now I'm not going to rehearse his conversion on the road to Damascus, as most of you are well acquainted with that, but I want you to come down to see how definitively the Scripture points out that here is this fork in the road. Up until now it's been all God dealing with His covenant people Israel. We know Peter appeals to Israel, and Stephen appeals to them, but now after they've rejected them, God does something totally different. So let's begin with verse 10 of Acts chapter 9. Here Saul is being dealt with just outside the city gate, and the Lord has appeared to him. But now the Lord appears to this Jew who was one of the leaders of the synagogue in Damascus:\n\nActs 9:10 – 13\n\n\"And there was a certain disciple at Damascus, named Ananias; (now you always have to remember that the word 'disciple' does not always mean one of the Twelve. A disciple was a follower, and so we know Ananias was certainly not one of the Twelve, but simply a believer that Jesus was the Messiah) and to him said the Lord in a vision, Ananias. (He gets his attention) And he said, Behold, I am here, Lord. 11. And the Lord said unto him, Arise, and go into the street which is called Straight, and inquire in the house of Judas for one called Saul, of Tarsus: for, behold, he prayeth. 12. And hath seen in a vision a man named Ananias coming in, and putting his hand on him, that he might receive his sight. 13. Then Ananias answered, Lord, I have heard by many of this man, how much evil he hath done to thy saints at Jerusalem:\" He's persecuting them. Putting them in prison, putting them to death if possible. Now verse 15, and what's the first word?\n\nActs 9:15a\n\n\"But...\" It's the flip side, as God's got another side of the coin.\n\nActs 9:15a\n\n\"But the Lord said unto him, Go thy way: for he (Saul of Tarsus) is a chosen vessel unto me, to bear my name before the Gentiles,...\"\n\nNow I'm not going to take time to do it, because I did it a few programs back, but do you remember when Paul had now been out among the Gentiles, and had a lot of converts, and had started little congregations of believers, but he had always had that heart for the Jew. So, he went back and appealed to that great Jewish audience there in Jerusalem. Remember they listened to him until he said one word, and what was that word in Acts 22:22? Gentile! When he said Gentile, they just erupted into a mob. They threw dust into the air, and said, \"Away with such a fellow from the earth: for it is not fit that he should live.\"\n\nWell, you see Saul of Tarsus' mentality was the same. They could see nothing good in those pagan Gentiles, but now the Lord says to him, \"I'm going to send you far hence to those Gentiles.\" Well, can you imagine how that struck into the heart of that good Pharisee Jew, Saul of Tarsus? But this is what the Lord had commanded, and after that experience he had on the road to Damascus, Saul had no argument with that command. But here in Acts chapter 9, this is what I wanted you to see, that for the first time in the Scriptures, here in the New Testament we've got God showing openly that He's going to now turn to the Gentiles, and remember that was unheard of. My, the Jew had no concept of going to the Gentile world.\n\nFor example, turn with me to chapter 8 and I'll show you what I mean. Many people can't believe this. They think Jesus ministered to Gentiles, but no He did not! The Scriptures only record that He did that twice. And the Twelve didn't have a ministry to the Gentiles either. You remember the verse we read in Matthew chapter 10 in the last program, when the Lord commanded them, \"Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans, enter ye not:\" So the Twelve disciples also had nothing to do with Gentiles.\n\nBut you see mankind today seems to think that just as soon as you get into the New Testament, God is dealing with Jew and Gentile, and nothing could be farther from the truth. God's been dealing with only the Nation of Israel, based on those Old Testament covenants, with those two exceptions, and if you think the Twelve disciples ran out preaching the Gospel to the whole world, then I'm afraid you don't know your Bible. The Twelve stuck in Jerusalem, and here's the proof of it in Acts chapter 8 and verse 1. This is probably 7 or 8 years after Pentecost. I don't claim that I'm right, but that's when I think the setting for these verses is.\n\nActs 8:1\n\n\"And Saul was consenting unto his (Stephen's) death. And at that time there was a great persecution against the church (assembly) which was at Jerusalem: (under the persecution of Saul) and they were all scattered abroad throughout the regions of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles.\"\n\nSee, the apostles don't flee. Now their life is in danger, but they're not about to leave Jerusalem. Why? Because Israel is at the hub of the matter, Israel has to be converted, and they're not about to go out into the Gentile world. Now let me give you another one to prove my point, so turn to Acts chapter 11 verse 19. Years and years ago this is the verse that opened my eyes and made me begin studying. And this just says it in plain English, and there's no way of twisting it or lifting it out of context, as it says what it means and it means what it says.\n\nActs 11:19\n\n\"Now they which were scattered abroad upon the persecution that arose about Stephen traveled as far as Phenice, and Cyprus, and Antioch, preaching the word (now you've got to stop for a moment. How much Word was in print at that time? Just the Old Testament. So they went everywhere preaching the Old Testament) to none but unto the Jews only.\"\n\nNow just look at that. Underline it, highlight it. They went everywhere in that then-known vicinity on the eastern end of the Mediterranean, North Africa, and up into what is now Turkey, and they were definitely preaching the Old Testament, the record of how that Christ had come, and that He had been crucified, but they preached to none but Jews. Isn't that funny that people can't see that? They weren't about to go to Gentiles, but always remember, a Sovereign God is still in control. So you get down into the very following verses, and my goodness, now what happens? Gentiles are getting interested in Salvation, by God's Sovereign Grace of course. But when the news got back to Jerusalem that Gentiles were getting involved, what do you think the Jerusalem leadership thought? Uh Oh! There's something wrong here!\n\nI always like to use the analogy here of something I read several years ago about one of our major denominations who was headquartered here in the Midwest, heard of gross heresies being taught in one of their churches down in one of the southern states. Well, what do you suppose the hierarchy up here in the Midwest did? They sent people down there pronto to check it out. Are those people really teaching that kind of heresy in one our churches? Well now that's just natural to do that, and that's exactly what the Jerusalem leadership did. Gentiles getting interested? Hey, there's something wrong with that. We're not supposed to be going to Gentiles, and so look what happens in verse 22.\n\nActs 11:22\n\n\"Then tidings of these things came unto the ears of the church (assembly) which was in Jerusalem: (over which Peter and the eleven were in charge) and they sent forth Barnabas, that he should go as far as Antioch.\"\n\nWell, for what purpose? To check this rumor out, that these Gentiles were getting interested in the things of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and that's basically what the Scriptures are saying here. Now read on in verse 23, but before we do, isn't it amazing how God always gets the right man, at the right place, at the right time? I maintain, had any of that Jerusalem leadership except Barnabas gone up to Antioch, they would have squashed it right then and there. But you see Barnabas was the right man, in fact he was the perfect right man for that particular time, and verse 23 says it all.\n\nActs 11:23 – 25\n\n\"Who, when he came, and had seen the grace of God, (how that God in His goodness was reaching down to these pagans.) was glad, and exhorted them all, that with purpose of heart they would cleave unto the Lord. 24. For he was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost and of faith: and much people was added unto the Lord. (they're being saved, Gentiles as well as a sprinkling of Jews. And as soon as Barnabas sees what's going on, again, Sovereignty, by God's direct leadership, what does Barnabas do?) 25. Then departed Barnabas to Tarsus, for to seek Saul:\"\n\nIsn't that amazing? Now if you think I'm stretching the point, come back over into chapter 11 verse 1. And this portion of Scriptures follows Peter going up to the house of Cornelius in chapter 10. And remember Peter wasn't too hot on that idea either, but the Lord forced him to do it. But when Peter saw the evidence of these Gentiles at Cornelius' house being saved, my, Peter was awestruck. He and the men that were with him were astonished, because they had never seen anything like this before. But now come down to chapter 11 and verse 1 and see what happened when they got back to Jerusalem and shared this with the believers.\n\nActs 11:1 – 2\n\n\"And the apostles, and brethren that were in Judaea heard that the Gentiles had also received the word of God. 2. And when Peter was come up to Jerusalem, they that were of the circumcision (the Jerusalem believing assembly) contended with him,\"\n\nHey they didn't slap him on the back and say, \"Hey Peter, great Job. My isn't it great how God is using us Jews to go to the Gentiles.\" NO! But quite the opposite, they contended with him.\n\nActs 11:3\n\n\"Saying, Thou wentest in to men uncircumcised, and (horrors of horrors, what did they do?) didst eat with them.\"\n\nThe Jerusalem leadership just was baffled. \"Peter, you of all people, how could you do that?\" Well, then Peter had to rehearse how God had worked both ends to the middle, worked with Cornelius, and worked with him, and brought the two together so that Peter could proclaim Salvation to that Gentile house. Now all this to show then, that when Saul of Tarsus was commissioned in chapter 9 to go to the Gentile world—that, hey, this had never been known before. This is something totally, totally different.\n\nNow, as a result of him being commissioned by the words and deeds of Ananias, let's look at Paul's own words and own account of it in the Book of Galatians chapter 1. Now remember, I'm just trying to reconstruct this great Salvation that began with the Lord Himself. It began way back when the Lord made the promised Seed of the woman back in Genesis 3:15. Then gave the promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, that through the Nation of Israel would come a Redeemer. But Israel rejected all of that, and God then turns to the Gentiles through this man, and now he gives the account of it here in Galatians.\n\nGalatians 1:11, 12\n\n\"But I certify you, brethren, that the gospel which was preached of me is not after man. 12. For I neither received it of man, neither was I taught it, but (where did Paul get this Gospel that saves us today? We know he didn't get it from the Twelve, or any of the Old Testament writings, but rather) by the revelation of Jesus Christ.\"\n\nNow when you read Scripture you've got to keep everything in perspective. Where is Christ at this time of the revelation? Well, He's in glory! And so from that ascended position in glory He reveals to this apostle these revelations. Now, maybe at some point in time Paul had a face-to-face confrontation. I'm not saying that he did or didn't, but he had the revelation from the ascended Lord. Now verse 13, Paul writes:\n\nGalatians 1:13 – 15a\n\n\"For ye have heard of my conversation in time past in the Jews' religion, (he was a Pharisee of the Pharisees remember) how that beyond measure I persecuted the church (or that assembly) of God, and wasted it: 14. And profited in the Jews' religion above many my equals in mine own nation, being more exceedingly zealous of the traditions of my fathers. 15. But when it pleased God,...\" Do you see what that says? God is Sovereign! God is in control of every minute detail, and at the exact right time. Not only was Christ born of a woman, as we see in chapter 4 of Galatians.\n\nGalatians 4:4a\n\n\"But when the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman,...\" But Paul says the same thing was part and parcel of his birth at just the right time, he was born into that Jewish family in Tarsus so that he was ready to be the apostle of the Gentiles at the exact right moment in human history. But you know what? You are the same way. You were born according to God's Sovereign timetable. You're not an accident. Every one of us is in that intrinsic working of a Sovereign God. Now come on down to verse 16. Why did He commission this man, this good Jew?\n\nGalatians 1:16 – 17a\n\n\"To reveal his Son (the One we've been emphasizing in Hebrews) in me (and for what purpose?) that I might preach him among the heathen; and immediately I conferred not with flesh and blood: 17. Neither went I up to Jerusalem to them which were apostles before me; (Paul went in the opposite direction) but I went into Arabia,...\"\n\nHe probably went to Mount Sinai, and then after the 3 years of revelation of these things of the Gospel of the Grace of God, then this apostle is ready to go to the pagan Gentile world. Now in the couple of minutes we have left, let's go back to Hebrews. We've got to keep checking with home base.\n\nHebrews 2:3\n\n\"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation; which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed unto us (Paul is including himself) by them that heard him:\" Now let's come back to I Corinthians chapter 15, and I think these verses just tie it all together, and we'll start at verse 1.\n\nI Corinthians 1 – 8\n\n\"Moreover brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand; 2. By which also ye are saved, (saved and Salvation are synonymous) if ye keep in memory, what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain. 3. For I delivered unto you first of all (they had never heard this Gospel before) that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; 4. And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures; (now resurrection was a tough item for a lot of people to believe, so here comes the proof of the resurrection) 5. And that he was seen of Cephas, (Peter) then of the Twelve: 6. After that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; of whom the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep, (died) 7. After that, he was seen of James; then of all the apostles. 8. And last of all he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due time.\" (or one born before his time)\n\nAbout Les Feldick:\n\n\"Study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.\" — II Timothy, Chapter 2, Verse 15\n\nLes Feldick is an Oklahoma rancher and has enjoyed that lifestyle for many years.\n\nLes and his wife, Iris, have been married since 1953. They have three grown children and eight grandchildren.\n\nWhat Les really likes is teaching the Bible. He has been teaching home-style Bible classes for over 30 years. His teaching is non-denominational, and his students come from diverse denominations and backgrounds. It was through one of these classes that a student helped open the door for his \"Through the Bible\" television program.\n\nLes has never had any formal Bible training. It is through the Holy Spirit that he is able to teach night after night, never using lesson plans or notes, and seemingly, never growing tired. Les teaches in four different cities on a regular basis.\n\nLes starts his classes in Genesis 1:1 and works all the way through the Bible. All the Scriptures quoted are referenced from the King James Version. Les comments that \"Once a class has been 'Through the Bible' with me, we generally start over and do it again.\"\n\nA Note From Les Feldick Ministries:\n\nLes Feldick Ministries offers 6-hour video tapes of his television class (12 programs each), as well as DVD's, transcribed books, audio cassette tape sets, and CD's of the programs. See the ordering site for prices and ordering information.\n\nIf you would like to order books or DVDs or to donate to Les Feldick Ministries you may do so by going to the www.lesfeldick.com website. Should you have questions about that web site, you may call the office at 1-800-369-7856 or 918-768-3218 or write to:\n\nLes Feldick Ministries, 30706 W. Lona Valley Rd., Kinta, OK 74552\n\nwww.lesfeldick.org\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### FROM NOVA TO X\n\n### (2 LiAW STORIES)\n\n### Copyright 2015 Gabbo de la Parra\n\n### Published by Kidwell-Lovely at Smashwords\n\n### Smashwords Edition License Notes\n\n### Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.\n\n### This ebook is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.\n\n### This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and language and may be considered offensive by some readers (M/M foreplay and intercourse).\n\n### Table of Contents\n\nAcknowledgment\n\nStory 1 - DARKEST BEFORE DAWN (THE MASKED MAN SERENADE)\n\nChapter One\n\nChapter Two\n\nChapter Three\n\nStory 2 - HOW I LOST IT ON PLANET X\n\nChapter One\n\nChapter Two\n\nChapter Three\n\nChapter Four\n\nChapter Five\n\nChapter Six\n\nChapter Seven\n\nChapter Eight\n\nChapter Nine\n\nChapter Ten\n\nAbout Gabbo de la Parra\n\nContact Gabbo de la Parra\n\nOther Books by Gabbo de la Parra\n\nAnother Dawn On Planet X Teaser\n\n### Acknowledgments\n\n### The Goodreads' group M/M Romance has been an important part of my development as a writer, not just because it gave me the opportunity to learn about the innumerable good M/M romance authors out there but also to hone my craft with the help of their annual DON'T READ IN THE CLOSET event.\n\n### This event involves so many fabulous people, from those who have the courage to post a prompt, asking for a story, to those who help with the herculean task of organize and publish the stories and the subsequent anthologies. All the members in between these two stages also deserve a shout out because they take time from their busy lives to help with beta-ing, proofreading and encouraging seasoned writers and those members who hesitantly but valiantly decide to dip their toes in the delicious waters of man-on-man romance writing.\n\nKudos to every single one of the beautiful people around the word that participate in these events, and especially to those who read Darkest Before Dawn (The Masked Man Serenade) and How I Lost It on Planet X and asked for more.\n\n### STORY 1\n\n**DARKEST BEFORE DAWN (THE MASKED MAN SERENADE)**\n\n### It's been five blasted years since the dust plague wiped out 90% of the population of Nova Gaia. I guess I was one of the lucky ones, left to scrape out a living amid the ruins of the abandoned colonies.\n\n### Truth be told, I'd be dead now if it wasn't for him. I've never seen his face, and I've never heard him speak. I'd think he's just another dust-dream, except he always seems to appear when I most need him...\n\n### *This story was written for the Goodreads' group\n\nM/M Romance 2012 event\n\nLove is Always Write.\n\n### CHAPTER ONE\n\n_Blast me_.\n\nIf Alaric Aquinas hadn't been ravenous, he wouldn't have been chasing the furry thing; ergo he wouldn't be in this predicament, hanging from a precipice. A damned man-made precipice nonetheless, outcome of the improvised junkyard when people started to throw everything they didn't need anymore, into this former depression of the terrain.\n\nPerhaps, today was his last day on Nova Gaia.\n\nA mighty fine day to end twenty-six years of shenanigans.\n\nThe straps about Alaric's torso (preventing his fall) were not meant to support his weight, just to carry the few things he used whenever he was away from his quarters. Weak after so many days without food, he wasn't strong enough to propel himself upward, not even to promote a swift, undramatic death by swinging a little.\n\nHis pappa would have said Alaric should give a better fight before giving up. The only thing he was fighting right now (besides hunger) was fricking gravity, and one needed machines to win the constant battle against that bitch.\n\nEvery time Alaric opened his eyes in the dwindling twilight, vertigo seized him. He was pressing his eyelids so hard they trembled in a rebellious effort to betray him, to make him meet his last moment with frightening awareness and flailing arms.\n\nSomething smacked him between his closed eyes. Luckily, he was wearing his goggles. That would have been annoyingly painful otherwise.\n\nA rope.\n\nCan it be?\n\nThe miraculous rope was long enough to circle his waist. If the straps yielded now, he wouldn't fall. Phew, he wasn't afraid of heights, but it's not the same when you don't have anything under your feet. All he needed now was to find strength to pull himself up and fast. Maybe this time he could have the chance to talk to his savior.\n\nHelping Alaric every time he met with trouble, the strange man in a gas mask had kept his distance, never exchanging words, just letting his presence be known.\n\nCuriosity moved Alaric to act swiftly more than the actual sense of danger. He longed for an opportunity to face his protector. The masked man had been haunting his dreams and— lately—even his waking moments. It had become a compulsion stronger than hunger and survival. It had inflamed his desire for company.\n\nAlaric knew it had a lot to do with worldlier things than gratitude, in a very testosterone-seeks-testosterone kind of way. In his dreams, he unclothed the stranger without removing the gas mask. He frankly did not care what his savior looked like. The only important thing was how good that man had been to him, without asking for anything in return.\n\nIn a place with so few people left, kindness was a rare oddity. All went about their lives paying as little attention as possible to other survivors. The natural, human instinct to seek for the comfort of a group had been forsaken for that of isolation. Fears fathered on the illogical claim that gatherings might bring back the dust plague.\n\nAlaric was finally on his feet, running toward the place where he saw the glint of the dying light on the visor of the gas mask. It was too late though, all he found was the rabbit he had been chasing impaled on a stick, like a macabre offering. His protector didn't even give him the chance to blow a kiss in his direction now that he had summoned the courage to do so.\n\nI have the shittiest timing in the galaxy.\n\nHe quickly changed his goggles to thermal recognition in a last effort to see if the man was still around. Useless, everything around him was colder than a dog's nose.\n\nStrained and frustrated, Alaric decided to set camp in the first decaying building he found outside the improvised junkyard. He hadn't encountered survivors this far in the outskirts of the city before. He did a cursory examination of the place (to confirm he was alone) and started to skin the rabbit.\n\nHe broke some chairs to start a fire and used the stick the rabbit had been delivered on to roast it. His place was almost at the other end of the city, and the night was too cold to be wandering when he could rest here by this nice fire with a sated stomach.\n\nIf the man hadn't scurried like a scared pigeon, Alaric would have loved to share his food.\n\nBe honest with yourself Alaric, you'd share with him food, mouth, hands, cock, hole, and everything in between.\n\nAs he chewed a roasted strip of meat, he pondered all the things he couldn't do with the masked man, adjusting his intruding cock. He was messy enough after the junkyard snafu to consider a hasty masturbatory release. No, he was going to wait until he could do it at his own leisure in the security of his own quarters. GM deserved better than a mechanical, uninspired tug, and Alaric deserved to clean himself properly afterward. He had an adequate amount of water contained for a decent bath.\n\nAlaric chuckled inwardly; this was the second time he had thought about the masked man as GM. Calling his savior Gas Mask was too impersonal, GM sounded like a friend's nickname, and he wanted to feel close to this silent protector. Not to mention that little interaction with other human beings really helped with the unrestricted explosion of wishful thinking and fricking gas-mask-gazing fantasies.\n\nHe readied himself to sleep on the marble floor of the abandoned hotel lobby, draping about him bedclothes from one of the rooms and hoping with all his heart for the opportunity to be face-to-mask with the stranger without the need to be in danger.\n\nThe founders had brought myths saying a rabbit's foot was a good luck charm, maybe Alaric's good luck charm was a gas mask at the end.\n\n****\n\nBlessed be the Universe, for I was able to help him again.\n\nSule Sarong's Personal Log - Standard date 5772.03.12\n\nWhen Sule discovered the handsome lad, it had been raining. Sule rounded a corner and by pure chance looked up. The vision was there, naked and pale in the filtered light of the morning. The weathered green, double doors behind him and the ochre and pink façade of the two-story building did nothing but enhance his lean frame. The contours of his long arms ended in manly hands firmly grasping the wrought-iron balcony. With his body tilted a little forward, as if to catch the blessing of the rain more easily, the naked dream had his eyes close and a line of happiness curved the plump lips on a square masculine face.\n\nStruck by something more powerful than lightning, Sule staggered out of sight, just in case the young man looked down. Sule stood there frozen, until he tasted the rain and realized he was gaping in idyllic awe.\n\nNova Gaia architecture had been designed after Earth's Belle Époque before the Great War, and the ornate building had two statues not far from the vision's balcony. Those representations of beauty were mere children's doodles compared to the willowy godling enjoying the rain.\n\nThe place wasn't far from his own; ergo it amazed him how it was possible he hadn't seen this man before. Sule floated—enthralled—on the street until the lad became bored or cold and moved inside without even looking down at the street once.\n\nThe first time Sule helped the handsome lad, he was wearing his gas mask. It had been a particularly dusty day, and he had it on as a precaution. Now, he kept using it so the lad would know it was the same stranger helping him every time because it had a distinctive blue mark. However, Sule had never had the courage to introduce himself.\n\nNova Gaia recovered quicker than the humans who thought they had conquered her. A lustrum after the dust plague, Nova Gaia was lush again, while the sparse human population had reverted to an age long before the colonization of this planet. The devices running on extended-life batteries still worked, but those that needed constant renewal had been abandoned since there weren't enough skilled survivors to keep things in working condition.\n\nHundreds of years of human civilization in Nova Gaia had been destroyed in less than six standard months by a plague with no rational or scientific explanation. Powerful furnaces, wielders of the metallurgy-based industry of the planet, had been used to incinerate the insane amount of bodies left by the dust plague in its wake and to avoid a second tide of disease originated by the indiscriminate decomposition. Ironic since during the Second Industrial Revolution and France's Belle Époque on Earth the theory to eradicate diseases had been developed.\n\nLarge Industries were inconsequential; there were no masses to consume. Cattle and poultry roamed freely in the mountains far from the outskirts of the one-time prosperous colonies. People survived mostly from the animals that were never truly for human consumption: rabbits, dogs, doves, cats. All former pets and therefore stuck within the cities.\n\nSule hadn't eaten a dog or a cat yet, he tried to stick to rabbits and doves. Occasionally, a hunting party would go to the mountains and come back with meats. Meats, they would exchange for sexual favors.\n\nAs long as the man was clean, Sule hadn't had problems with it, and his stomach had always thanked him greatly afterward. Now, after the vision at the balcony had entered his life, the thought of another man joining him felt somewhat on the verge of disloyalty. So invested was his mind in the lad, it was only appropriate for his body to follow suit.\n\nThe plague had left the survivors so melancholic that there weren't even the usual hoarders trying to keep goods for themselves and profit. Anyone could go to the stores and get clothing and footwear. Scarves and hoods were the most popular articles since many survivors presented facial abrasions.\n\nPerhaps the lad thinks I'm disfigured because of the gas mask.\n\nSaddened but grateful to be alive, most people kept to themselves, interacting very little with others, just attentive to their com-devices, waiting for the signal of the long awaited rescue, coming from any of the other colonized planets a couple of light-years away from Nova Gaia.\n\nSule stared at the two moons, muted guardians of their night. Nova Gaia had three moons but one was retrograde, and they were so infrequently together in the dark sky that a myth existed saying every time the three moons were together a catastrophe would befall.\n\nMany said the dust plague had started after the three moons had been seen together.\n\nThere was only one bright thing in Sule's firmament, and he wondered where his lovely vision was spending this night.\n\n### CHAPTER TWO\n\nThe thick head of GM's cock painted Alaric's lips with delicious fluids in rapid brushes. His body was aflame waiting for the imminent penetration after so much yearning. Then GM did a wicked thing, sweeping Alaric's nostrils with the raging head. So naughty.\n\nBlast me.\n\nAlaric opened his eyes to discover a dog licking his nose.\n\nHe could hear the amused voice of his maman in the distance. \"That's what happens when you don't wash your mouth before bed.\" He sprang to a sitting position, startling the little perpetrator covered in a mane like an unruly mop. A mop that must have been white when brand new and now was dirty-water-colored.\n\nAt least the doggy wasn't feral. It wouldn't have been nice to wake up to the pain of his face being ripped unceremoniously. \"Little fellow, the lick-fest is over.\"\n\nAlaric hadn't used his voice in a long time, and it was rough, sounding more like a fricking growl, which drew a yip from the little mop. \"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you.\" He stood up and went to the sealed container where he had left the entrails of his gas-mask-delivered supper. He opened the can and put it on the marble floor. \"Here, you can have this. They are not my favorites.\"\n\nLeaving the little mop, munching desperately, he walked to the entrance of the abandoned hotel. It was that surreal moment—darkest before dawn—when for a second everything stood frozen waiting for the sun to chase away horror and obscurity. The promise that no matter what, day always followed night.\n\nA muffled noise snapped him out of his contemplation, like many people heavily dragging their feet. Alaric turned his head away from the changing sky and saw it. At the far end of the street, an irregular column of survivors walked. As he stared agape, more survivors joined the bizarre march.\n\nIn five years, he had not seen this concentration of people before. Alaric gathered his few things and went toward them, happy that the little mop didn't follow him. It would have been sad to resort to eating him at some point.\n\nAlmost at the end of the silent procession, an old lady in a hovering cart (with a battery so low that it was moving sadly as if somebody was pushing it) smiled at him. Alaric walked beside her cart. \"Good morning, mother. What's going on?\"\n\n\"A blessed day for you, boy. Hadn't you heard? Rescue is coming! The survivors in this area should go to the spaceport close to the Tyrrhenian Sea.\"\n\nThat was a journey of three standard days, and at the pace the survivors were moving, it would take them a standard-week to get there. \"Wonderful news, mother.\" Alaric wondered why she was alone. Probably all her family was dead; at least she had it in her to look forward to a new life somewhere else.\n\nAlaric pondered as he walked beside the hovering cart. He must keep with him a few mementos if he was to start anew on another planet. He didn't want to get old and forget what his parents, brothers and sisters looked like before the plague yanked them away from him.\n\n\"Excuse me, mother. I wish you a safe journey. I must go back to my quarters.\" Alaric took her bony hand and kissed it. \"Your blessing, please.\"\n\n\"May the spirits of your ancestors guide you, and my blessing goes with you, my boy.\"\n\nAlaric bowed to her and left running with all his might.\n\nPanting heavily, Alaric reached the top floor of the two-story building he called home. He retrieved the hand-size painting of his family in its beautifully gilded frame. As much as technology gave them the opportunity to have holographic files, it was tradition to keep a painted family portrait. He had requested to have the full-sized that adorned the family room reduced to have it on his nightstand. Now, it would be the only important thing from Nova Gaia flying with him to a new planet.\n\nHe studied it one last time before wrapping it with a cloth to secure it in his backpack. His maman and pappa sat while he and his siblings stood behind them. Alaric was in the center, since he was the youngest, his sisters each on one side, and his two brothers completing the group on both extremes. His maman and sisters looked ethereal with their high hair and jewels, short sleeves and pristine gloves beyond their elbows, all dark-haired beauties. His pappa sat with his top hat resting on his lap, elegant and stoic with such a thick moustache that always tickled Alaric when his father kissed him goodnight as a kid. All the brothers had their top hats on, and all men wore morning frocks, waistcoats and cravats. They were the image of cordiality and prosperity.\n\nHis pappa would have wanted him to give a good fight and not be sad and pathetic at this crossroads. His maman would have been encouraging him to take several changes of underpants for the journey. His brothers and sisters would have been fluttering around him jesting and laughing and wishing him a safe trip.\n\nAlaric hastily packed water, flashlights, and _underpants_. He was used to going without food for a couple of days, and surely, their rescuers would feed them.\n\nHe ran; it was time to join the throng of survivors on their way to a new planet.\n\nBy the time Alaric reached the limits of the city, the survivors were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they had realized they were moving insanely slow.\n\n\"Well, well, what have we here?\" A very unfriendly voice called behind him.\n\nIt was a trio of men, who usually came back to the city from the mountains with cattle meat to trade. \"Oh, hello, gentlemen. Heard the good news?\" Alaric commented, happy to find out he wasn't the last one to leave the city. He had never been around them long enough to learn their names, maybe this time he would.\n\n\"Yeah, we heard. Mind if we join you?\" The tallest of the group said, ogling him strangely.\n\n\"Sure, the more the better,\" Alaric answered nonchalantly, although inside him alarms were furiously sending distress signals.\n\nThe shortest and most menacing of the group had a wicked look on his flat face and said gleefully, \"Exactly, the more the better.\"\n\nAlaric wasn't sure if the right action was to flee or prepare himself to fight like a feral beast. These men had never been extremely friendly, he had exchanged sexual favors with them for food, but something was wrong this time. What could they do, kill him? What would be the point? The only thing worth killing on this planet under the circumstances was food, and Alaric didn't think these men had suddenly turned into cannibals.\n\nIf they wanted sex, they could ask for it, couldn't they? After so many weeks of wet dreams with the man wearing the gas mask, he might not enjoy it, but it wouldn't be an aberration of the customs. Alaric wondered if GM had received the rescue signal and was on his way to the spaceport with all the others.\n\nAlaric selfishly hoped that if he were in danger surrounded by these men, GM would be close to give him a helping hand— _again_.\n\nWhat a shitty moment to be unarmed.\n\nThey walked for a standard hour when they reached a part of the road with trees on one side and a burnt field on the other. The trio paced behind Alaric, and that kept his hair on ends. He was seriously considering going back to the city when two of the men grabbed him by the arms and the third yanked his trousers down, underpants included. \"What the...?\"\n\n\"Shhh, we just want to play a little,\" said one in his ear, licking his earlobe.\n\nAlaric thrashed to free himself, but he couldn't use his legs to kick with his trousers around his knees and the awkward face down position. \"Sons' of bitches, you don't need to force me. Be decent and ask.\"\n\n\"Ah, pretty thing, but this ain't trade, this is rape.\" The one holding his legs, spat evilly as they carried him toward the group of trees.\n\n\"Let me go, you fuckers, let me go.\" Alaric was frantic, and the men were easily overpowering him, no matter how much he thrashed.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"That's what we want.\"\n\n\"Put up a fight.\"\n\n\"Make it interesting.\"\n\nAlaric heard the voices, but in his wild struggle he couldn't discern who was speaking.\n\nThe one holding his legs, let go with an \"Ouch!\" One of the others jerked his arm before releasing him with a \"What the fuck?\"\n\nAlaric landed ass first on the ground and before he lost consciousness (thanks to the angry reception of a tree trunk), he saw the man in the gas mask serving steaming jabs and ferocious kicks to his attackers.\n\nA gas mask was indeed his lucky charm.\n\n****\n\nBlessed be the Universe for the lad is safe in my arms.\n\nSule Sarong's Personal Log - Standard date 5772.03.13\n\nSule had taken care of the three idiots trying to force his lad, bringing him back to the city in his transport. They had several days before the rescue party arrived at the spaceport. It was sad to think that now that help was on its way, the survivors would start turning against each other.\n\nTrying not to traumatize the lad further, Sule had just pulled his clothes together and waited patiently for him to come back on his own. He caressed the disheveled locks he had dreamed about so many nights. Long, dark lashes begged him for a kiss, a kiss he couldn't bring himself to steal.\n\nSince Sule had never been close enough to the lad to learn the color of his eyes, he wondered. Sule knew they were fair, in plain contrast with his dark, manly eyebrows; eyebrows he tentatively traced not wanting to disturb the peaceful unconsciousness of this dreamboat.\n\nAnd when your eyes've shone\n\nUpon my face\n\nAnd your smile's blinded me\n\nWith nonnatural radiance\n\nI will happily die\n\nKnowing there's\n\nNo more to yearn.\n\nSule recited mentally as he caressed a pale cheek, with the back of his fingers, in a silent glide of nails and knuckles. As much as Sule didn't want to disturb the lad, he couldn't help himself. So close for him to have, it was impossible to put distance between them now.\n\nThe vision leaned onto his hand with a pleased hum and opened his eyes. They were pale blue, like a cloudless sky in the moment the sun was at its highest. \"Your name,\" the lad murmured, his voice rasped as if his throat was extremely dry.\n\nThe gas mask came off, as Sule was just waiting for the lad to recognize him first, and, holding the lad's hand, he spoke, \"My name is Sule Sarong, your humble servant.\" He drew the hand to his lips and kissed it. \"Allow me the gift of your name.\"\n\nThe vision smiled, caressing with trembling fingers his stubbly cheek. \"Alaric Aquinas,\" he pronounced calmly. \"I owe you so much, Sule.\" This time he traced Sule's lips with a single, now steadier, finger.\n\n\"You owe me nothing, Alaric. You safety is my biggest reward.\" Sule went to his feet to get something for Alaric to drink. He settled the gas mask on a nearby table and poured water.\n\nWasn't Alaric a king who conquered Rome? How fitting.\n\nAlaric sat, looking at Sule with adoring eyes, and then assessed his state, as he accepted the offered glass. \"Thank you. I'm a mess.\" There was mud and grass all over him. \"I'm defiling your bed.\" He chuckled softly. \"Please, forgive me.\"\n\nSule sat again—close, so close—and smiled openly. \"It doesn't matter. It's not that we will stay here for long. We must go to the spaceport by the Tyrrhenian Sea soon.\" He took the emptied glass from Alaric's hands. \"I can offer you a bath, if it pleases you.\"\n\n\"Only if you share it with me,\" Alaric uttered with a falsely solemn face.\n\n\"Are you sure? After what happened to you, I wouldn't impose my presence in such an intimate way.\"\n\n\"I'm positive I want you there with me, as I am positive there will be another dawn tomorrow.\"\n\n### CHAPTER THREE\n\nSule had said his name, stressing the final e, in the same way his tutor had done when Alaric was learning his vowels as a child. The tutor had held a card showing an animal with large, hanging ears and a long trunk that didn't exist on Nova Gaia but was still used to teach children the alphabet. \"E-le-phan-t,\" his tutor had enunciated condescendingly. An action Alaric hadn't understood at the time but now was clear as water.\n\nLately, Alaric learned that the inhabitants of an outer-rim planet had characteristics very similar to Earth's pachyderms. \"The patterns of the Universe are repeated endlessly and with wisdom,\" his pappa had said in the middle of one of their frequent and entertaining discussions.\n\nAs Alaric watched Sule strip out of his brocade morning coat and waistcoat, and discovered the sultry coat of hair adorning Sule's chest as the white shirt became undone, he wished he hadn't gone through the chemical removal of all his body hair. The only follicles active in his body were the ones on his scalp and eyebrows.\n\nWith the gas mask gone, a stark new concept of desire exploded inside Alaric. His fingertips still tingled with the sensation of Sule's incipient beard, and Alaric wanted that wonderful stubble scrapping every inch of his body.\n\n\"Are you unwell?\" Sule asked, just underpants covering his magnificent, lean body. \"Is the lump on your head hurting?\" His dark locks swayed forward as he tilted his head inquisitively.\n\nAlaric shook his head. Absent (like a dummy) and sure that he had the silliest star-struck look on his face. He wasn't drooling because the Universe was merciful. He swallowed audibly and said, \"I've dreamt of you so much. I still don't know if this is just another of my naughty dreams or blissful reality.\"\n\nSule smiled, with his mouth and his amazing steel eyes, and walked toward him. Sule took Alaric's hand and rested it on his chest over his heart, the hairy plain—hard and enticing. \"Do you hear this?\"\n\nAlaric did, hating the clothes that still covered his own body. He nodded, hearing and feeling the steady heartbeat scorching his hand, melting his body.\n\nThe underpants close to his chest were tented—proof that Alaric wasn't alone in his ardor.\n\n\"Let me help you out of these clothes,\" Sule murmured as he pulled Alaric up and held him in his arms for a moment.\n\nSule's eyes were the color of flaming steel, and they devoured Alaric. Every single cell about Alaric's body tingled in anticipation. Why was he still clothed?\n\nThe removal of each garment was accompanied by a feathery caress on the discovered area, Alaric wanted to close his eyes and drift, but Sule's eyes held him in place, alert, conscious. And that mouth, that mouth surrounded by amazing stubble was an equally powerful magnet. It took all the restraint his body was capable of not to be the first to venture for a taste of those lips.\n\n\"Oh,\" Alaric gasped, remembering he didn't have his backpack. He was happy to be there, but losing his family portrait immediately dampened his mood.\n\n\"Don't worry, it's over there.\" Sule pointed toward a corner, as Alaric leaned on him to remove his shoes. The backpack lay inconspicuously, covered by dirt, but apparently whole.\n\nAlaric thanked Sule in hushed tones as they moved to the next room, which was an ample bathroom. Sule took a low stool and settled it in the middle of a large bathtub. \"Let me sponge you first to remove all that caked dirt.\"\n\nSule moved about, collecting items for his chore, while the bobbing of his tempting cock, behind thin fabric, enthralled Alaric.\n\nBlast me. I'm going to make a fool of myself.\n\n\"Where did all this water come from?\" Alaric asked (just for the sake of asking) to distract his feverish brain.\n\n\"It's the filtered water of a hundred rains.\" Sule beamed, pride coloring his tone. He pointed to an immense tank in the middle of the inner patio. \"It also irrigates a little green house.\"\n\nThen Sule wasn't simply lurking around the corners waiting to rescue him. Alaric didn't know whether to feel disappointed or grateful that Sule wasn't just a harebrained stalker.\n\nBy the time Sule finally started to sponge him with soapy water, his cock head peeked from its foreskin cocoon demanding attention, and no amount of fresh (or filtered) water could conquer the fire running over Alaric's face.\n\nHey, horniness trumps embarrassment.\n\nThe worst (or should he say the best) part was when Sule circled Alaric's ass cheeks with maddening slowness and spread them, rubbing lovingly his puckered hole, as if to make him beg to be fucked senseless without remorse. Who could have told him that a man _literally_ wiping his fricking ass would be the most erotic thing he had ever experienced? He was lost, light-years beyond propriety.\n\nNone said a word. The only thing accompanying Sule's torturing and delightful ministrations was the heavy almost strangled breathing of both.\n\nAn eternity later, all the filth of the morning's bad experience had been drained, and they were face-to-face, knelt in the bathtub with water happily splashing about them. Alaric couldn't get enough of Sule's hairy chest rubbing against his, nor the celestial scrape of that stubble over his swollen lips.\n\nSule's ass was a masterpiece, and Alaric refused to cease his kneading of the hard muscles. They were mutually obsessed with their behinds because Sule couldn't stop either. He pulled their groins together, steering Alaric's ass and making their cocks mingle their encouraging fluids.\n\n\"I've dreamt of you so much,\" Sule whispered moving one hand from Alaric's ass to his groin.\n\nThat strong hand around his shaft was Alaric's undoing. \"I'm sure I did it more.\" He chuckled with a strangled gasp.\n\n\"Who did what is not important anymore. You're here in my arms.\" Then Sule did something Alaric couldn't have foreseen. Inserting a finger in Alaric's foreskin, Sule circled the head like a warlock from an ancient tale stirring a concoction, perhaps to destroy, perhaps to create life.\n\n\"Blast me,\" was all Alaric could hiss as he rolled his eyes. A thousand commands escaped from his purpled head, ordering goose bumps and flashes of light, and Sule inserted one finger of the hand still kneading Alaric's ass into that burning hole, making him whimper.\n\nSqueaky clean as they were after the meticulous bath, the fluids oozing from their cocks could only taste like ambrosia. Sule proved this, licking the smeared finger and sharing the flavor with Alaric in a passionate kiss.\n\nInvaded and giddy (thanks to both hands commanding him), Alaric replicated Sule's maneuvers, extracting moans of approval and grunts of encouragement.\n\nEach mirrored the other's actions, tasting and kissing, fingering and rubbing. Water splashed with their efforts because they only gave each other space for narrow moves, bucking and grinding, until all that was left was to stroke their cocks to completion.\n\nAlaric exploded first, torn between the hand stroking his cock, the finger plucking his prostate and the mouth covering his mouth. He became a million pieces, his consciousness still whole—thanks to Sule's sweet gravity.\n\nThe wicked clench around Alaric's finger (with Sule's orgasm not far behind from his) brought a new wave of ecstasy to his trembling frame. Both rode the high crest not wanting to untwine their bodies now or in the future.\n\n****\n\nBlessed be the Universe, for I've known bliss on the lips of Alaric Aquinas.\n\nSule Sarong's Personal Log - Standard date 5772.03.15\n\nThey made love for two standard days. They learned each other's geography, from north to south, from east to west, kissing creases, licking plains, engulfing summits. They discovered and adored every inch of their inflamed bodies with abandon. The diminishing of that bonfire was never in sight.\n\n\"It's time to leave this nest, Alaric.\" Sule told the object of his desire with sadness. They didn't know under what conditions they would do the interplanetary journey, ergo if they would be sharing the same living space. Many, many people would certainly surround them by the description of the column of survivors Alaric had given him.\n\nBut even if there are a thousand survivors, it would be nothing but the meager remains of a city with more than two million inhabitants before the dust plague.\n\n\"Are you sure your transport has enough energy to take us there?\" Alaric asked, still tangled in dark sheets, making him look like one of the moons in the midnight sky.\n\n\"More than necessary. If we depart tonight, we could arrive at the spaceport in less than forty-eight standard hours.\" Sule sat on the bed, offering Alaric a plate with his share of the roasted doves and Nova-Gaian potatoes he had prepared for their meal.\n\nAlaric ate silently, just looking at Sule, a mixture of adoration and apprehension in his pale blue eyes, cross-legged and immersed in a pool of satin darkness.\n\n\"Speak your mind, sweetheart.\" Sule caressed one cheek when Alaric stopped chewing. The lad leaned into his touch.\n\n\"What if they separate us?\" Alaric scrunched his nose as if not wanting to delve too seriously into that thought.\n\nThis fretting lad was the one who even in the middle of an ordeal kept fighting, as Sule had witnessed every time he had come to his rescue. Sule didn't want to make Alaric weak just because he was near. \"Would you let that happen?\"\n\nThe response was a hissed syllable. \"No.\"\n\nAfter a sip of his water, Sule encouragingly murmured, \"That's the answer I was hoping for.\" He took their plates and settled them on a nearby table. He crawled on the bed until they were face-to-face, his eyes boring into Alaric's. \"I'm absolutely positive, if I'm the one who needs rescue at some point you'd prevail.\" He slid his lips over Alaric's without kissing, just relishing their texture. The tip of their noses brushed in silent invitation, an echo of things they did earlier.\n\nAlaric gave him a quick smooch. \"Totally true. My middle name is berserk.\" He chuckled softly. \"There's something about you that makes me want to be rescued, and I swear I didn't look for trouble just to see if you appeared. They were all honest-to-Universe mishaps.\" He lifted his right hand as if making an oath.\n\n\"I believe you. I know there's spunk in you.\" Sule pushed Alaric to lie down, savoring the muscles of Alaric's square shoulder.\n\nSnickering, Alaric blurted, \"There's not much left, after what's been going on in this bedroom.\"\n\nIt took five standard seconds for Sule to grasp the meaning of Alaric's words, and he exploded in laughter. \"And there's going to be less in a moment.\"\n\n\"I'm banking on that.\" Alaric whispered as he closed his eyes and opened his lips to accept him.\n\nThey left the abandoned city that night, the bark of dogs their only farewell.\n\nHaving learned about their bodies previously, they used the journey to learn about their life before the dust plague. The expectations that were, and those that were coming to be with the nearness of a new start on another planet.\n\nThey reached the spaceport with the second night more than well advanced. Two enormous spaceships, phallic and stunning, illuminated the area, and a male voice continuously gave information through a loud PA.\n\nGathering their backpacks, they walked toward the reception booth at the gate of the spaceport, hand in hand, leaving the transport and their previous life behind them.\n\n\"Did you notice that?\" Sule pointed at the sky with his free hand, stopping their march.\n\n\"Oh, GM.\" Alaric sighed, somewhat embarrassed. \"I did, and it's supposed to be a bad omen. That's why I didn't mention it.\" Alaric pressed his lips, squeezing Sule's hand and looking up in the direction of the three moons, visible after the dispersing clouds.\n\nSule liked that moniker; it would always remind him of how they met. He squeezed the lad's hand back, \"Never for us, Alaric. These three moons, we will never see again, proclaim the beginning of a different life.\" He winked and nodded—smiling—lost in the pale blue eyes that seemed molten silver thanks to the scarce light. \"Besides, it's almost a new day.\"\n\nAlaric stood on his toes to nuzzle Sule's cheek and gave him a quick smooch. \"Yes. It's always darkest before dawn.\"\n\nTHE END\n\n####\n\n### STORY 2\n\nHOW I LOST IT ON PLANET X\n\n### Location: Planet XZ345\n\n### Pyramids of old Perth\n\n### A distinct sound makes Darien look up from his archeological work.\n\n### What in the name of the seven planets is that?\n\n### Before the warrior reaches him, Darien thinks that perhaps he should not have dismissed all the talk of a curse and a sacred guardian\n\n### on the old documents after all...\n\n### and then the alien warrior opens his mask...\n\n### *This story was written for the Goodreads' group\n\nM/M Romance 2012 event\n\nLove is Always Write.\n\n### CHAPTER ONE\n\n\"You know there's a curse, right?\"\n\nHe rolled his eyes. \"As much as archeology sometimes delves into fantasy realms, a curse is the last thing on my worries list.\"\n\n\"What could be a bigger worry than a curse on a remote planet, Darien?\"\n\n\"The program is for ten years.\" He hated it when he sounded so whiny.\n\n\"Fresh from Academy, top of your class, this is the Dream Mission for a newbie.\" Ben mimicked his eye-roll. \"As long as you don't take the effing curse into consideration.\"\n\n\" _Byotch_ , are you trying to scare me?\" Darien stuck his tongue out. \"I've taken down bigger men than you.\"\n\n\"Pfft, I'm not even going with you.\" Ben sipped his herbal tea, the sharp concoction offending Darien's nose. \"But I'm gonna be the one they send if you get lost or zombie'd or gone for good.\" An arched eyebrow adorned his square features.\n\nToday was an eye-rolling day. Ben had the frame of a spaceship and the strength of twenty Velusian bulls. He'd fought all kinds of beasts on countless planets and had been in three intergalactic wars, but now he was worried about a myth?\n\nFor the sake of the Seven Planets, we are scientists, warriors, effing descendants of Terra.\n\n\"Ten years is not that long, anyway.\" Ben's dismissive tone grated on Darien's nerves more than the green sting assaulting him.\n\n\"That's easy for you to say, _whore_. You'll be getting all the cock and ass your slutty heart desires around the effing galaxy.\"\n\n\"And what is it to you, my sassy virgin?\"\n\n_Ouch._ Darien had been busy studying hard, all right? Boys were the last thing in his head. He always thought he'd have his share of manly delights after finishing Space Academy. Now, it seemed his calculations had been just a behemoth truncation error. Ben always said Darien must be the last red-haired virgin of the galaxy, a disgrace to his fiery genes. However, he wasn't going to sit there and let Ben flaunt the notches on his bedposts in his face.\n\n_It was MY CHOICE_.\n\n\"I'm gonna be stuck with two old prunes and a bunch of androids.\" Not a chance in Nova to give his virginity to those two; besides, they were lovers. Major snooze. Commitment.\n\nUgh.\n\n\"A man thirty years your senior is not a prune.\" Effing Ben liked them with white hair. What a silver fox chaser.\n\n\"Both old wizards will be like a hundred by the time we finish the excavation.\" There went the whine again. If Darien didn't get his shit together, the ancient ritual of hara-kiri would be mild compared to what he was gonna be forced to resort to.\n\n\"Darien, this is a lifetime opportunity, a chance in a billion. After this ten-year mission, you are secure until your last breath.\" Another sip of obnoxious aromatic tea. \"If you opt out now, it will not only be career suicide but a major family disgrace.\"\n\nIrked, Darien slammed the table with both hands, making everything on it rattle hysterically. \"Then what was all that effing babbling about a curse?\"\n\nBen folded his napkin as if Darien's crimson face were a delightful sunset. \"I just love to mess with your head, little brother.\"\n\nGrr. The byotch.\n\n****\n\n\"Computer, access the records of Planet XZ345, archeological research.\" It was time to review the so-called curse.\n\nThe planet was technically a desert that didn't have any known fauna, and there were no records of sentient inhabitants. The Pyramids of old Perth had been discovered during a reconnaissance expedition to a nearby system and ignited an ancestral flame since these abandoned monuments were similar to ones registered in old records from Terra Prima.\n\nSix expeditions had been sent to XZ345; all had lasted on the planet less than a few standard months. No mechanical dysfunction had curtailed the research expeditions, but there were severe symptoms of stress and melancholy in the human members of both military and archeological crews.\n\nAncient scrolls discovered during Expedition One, and finally translated by the return of Expedition Four, spoke of the evacuation of the planet. Wars had decimated the population and plagues threatened what was left of their civilization. A great search was issued to find a family that would remain on the planet to safeguard the sacred temples of Meha until the return of the fleeing expatriates. One male of the family would serve as supreme wielder of the protective curse. If such a family had been found, it was not registered on the recovered scrolls.\n\nThat has to be the most effing purple byotch raffle in the Universe.\n\nBaptized after Regulus H. Perth, the General in command of the Reconnaissance Fleet, the pyramids consisted of impressive and extended temples on the southern hemisphere of the planet. The dry climate had conserved the ruins in excellent condition, from an archeological point of view.\n\nPlans to repopulate the planet with a human colony had never crystalized due to the inability to maintain an archeological site at minimum.\n\nDarien turned the screen off. Why send another expedition if six others had already failed? A bigger reason must exist to divert resources to such a cause. At any rate, the Federation's persistence in exploring \"Planet Xad\" (as it was known in archeological circles due to the melancholic and depressive outbursts of the crews) was unfathomable.\n\nThe seventh expedition consisted of three humans and a hundred androids, divided into field researchers and military contingency.\n\nA nasty feeling churned Darien's guts. Perhaps, he'd just gotten the winning ticket in another _byotch_ imploding raffle.\n\n****\n\nHoneyed Agate\n\nOrange Flames\n\nOutlander Minister\n\nHeart of Gold\n\n\"Seriously? That's what the Oracle said?\" Kekoa banged the control panel, making General Ur and the screen jump. \"Sounds more like a fucking joke than a riddle. That could be anyone. Is it a male at least?\"\n\n\"Yes, that much was affirmative.\" The old man obviously forgave Kekoa's temper because he understood Kekoa's ordeal: stuck on an empty planet guarding sacred temples for another thousand years.\n\n\"And did the Oracle say how I'm gonna meet this _Outlander Minister_?\" Kekoa growled, frustration winning the race against anger.\n\n\"He will come to you, Kekoa. Have patience,\" General Ur implored, more father than high-ranked officer.\n\n\"Nobody comes to this planet unless you send them. The only other option would be a crash-landing. Who knows what that might bring?\" Kekoa caressed his growing erection, hidden from the general's eyes. \"I can't wait for my mate to appear, Ur. I need to fuck now.\"\n\n\"Entertainment can be arranged. Give me a couple of hours.\" General Ur smiled, complicit.\n\n\"Make it one hour, and send two strong ones. I'm in a mood.\" This time Kekoa squeezed his rock-hard cock. He grunted mutedly. \"Thanks, Ur.\"\n\nGeneral Ur nodded solemnly. \"May Meha guard you.\" He became a dot on the screen.\n\nFunny since Kekoa was the Guardian of goddess Meha's temples. He was truly in a mood today. Something boiled inside him, and he couldn't guess what it was.\n\n\"Master, your bath is ready,\" the head android murmured behind him.\n\nWarm water awaited him in the adjoining room. He thanked the android and disrobed, walking nude toward the welcoming retreat. Perhaps after a relaxing bath he would not be as destructive as he felt right now. He counted on being in a better mood by the time _his entertainment_ arrived.\n\nLess than a standard hour later, the expert hand of another household android had untangled all the knotted muscles in Kekoa's body, and he waited, degusting aged liquor.\n\nJust a short satin robe covered his frame as the two men entered his alcove. Both were tall and muscled, much like him, with the same white hair distinctive of his race. More than courtesans, these two seemed to be from the military elite, which was excellent; Kekoa aimed for a rough session.\n\nHe rose to his feet, swirling the liquor in its concave goblet with his left hand. \"Gentlemen, drinks?\" His steeled weapon already leaked, looking for battle with urgent need.\n\nThey accepted with interested eyes, appraising exposed muscles between the open folds of his robe. They wore loose garments, easy to dispose, suggestively framing their hard-honed forms.\n\nKekoa handed them their drinks and raised his. \"A toast.\" He leered at them with mischievous enthusiasm. \"To sated holes and dripping cocks.\"\n\n### CHAPTER TWO\n\nThe head android entered his study with a soft knock on the door. \"Master?\"\n\nKekoa turned from the painting he was creating to address him. \"Yes?\"\n\n\"We have raised the levels of gas around the temples' area, but these foreigners are not suffering the effects yet.\"\n\nIt had been four standard months since this excursion landed. Their excavations were reaching a critical place within the main temple complex, time for him to take matters into his own hands. Luckily, the exploration party only had three humans.\n\n\"Get me the coordinates of the youngest of the group.\" By experience, younglings were more susceptible to so-called supernatural demonstrations. _Impressionable_ would be a more accurate expression.\n\nKekoa had only shown himself to the second Cygnus Federation expedition. He couldn't believe the Federation insisted on digging on his planet. War destroyed his civilization; they vowed to avoid the annihilation of others unless a direct attack was issued.\n\nReleasing a toxin that would provoke disorientation and longing for the homeland was what they'd done countless times to get rid of this kind of pest. For some unknown reason, it wasn't working at all this time. He knew they used filtering masks, but it was nearly impossible to keep those devices on permanently. He would go crazy if he had to wear such a contraption all the time.\n\n\"And prepare my armor. I'm going to the surface.\" Kekoa gave another brush to his masterpiece. At least he was in an excellent disposition. Tyke and Sun, his military, unofficial pets, had left the planet earlier that day.\n\n\"Yes, master. The coordinates will be ready for you in the control room.\" The head android bowed and took his leave.\n\nThese expeditions had never come heavily armed, proving they were here for scientific business only. However, his people had planted scrolls in an alternate language—not related directly to his civilization—with the sole purpose of alerting these invaders of a curse that was true... but not in the way described.\n\nGreed was the curse of my race.\n\nClose to extinction by their own insane quarrels, the remnants decided to start anew in a different location as far as possible from their birthplace. The oracles were consulted and a planet chosen, but they needed to leave behind a guardian for the sacred places. The knowledge preserved in these structures couldn't be destroyed without provoking the wrath of their deity. A two thousand year commission—more than three-quarters of their lifespan—was given to Kekoa's fifth great grandfather.\n\nIt was his turn now to find his mate and have a child to be the guardian of the last vestige of their civilization on this planet. Another protector of secrets of unfathomable magnitude.\n\nKekoa pondered his approach to the young explorer as his armor was assembled about him. The purpose of the device was not just defensive but also to scare with its horrific morphology. Skull imagery always proclaimed disease and death, unless you were from the Ragnark system. Those wretches had their skulls visible since the moment they left their mothers' wombs.\n\nNot a pleasing sight at all.\n\n\"Master, your target is located in sector ten, quadrant forty-eight.\"\n\nThe expedition's routine separated the excavations into two groups. One led by two humans and their androids, the other by the youngling and his own segment of mechanical helpers. Usually, they worked at opposite ends of the same quadrant, approximately fifty klicks away.\n\nNow it was time to give the little invader the fright of a lifetime.\n\n****\n\nThis effing planet is hot.\n\nHis suit supposedly breathed, but sure as Nova, Darien was slowly roasting inside it. If someone had told him one could smell the heat, he would have thought that person was batshit crazy. Now, that slight fragrance of melting metal permeated every minute of his life.\n\nA hundred and nineteen days on this barren land was enough to get on anyone's nerves. Darien could easily see now why people got depressed here before. Yet, he was not depressed but angry. Frederick and Jacques were supreme assholes and made his life miserable. Technically, he was their boss, but since they were older they said, \"Yes, sir,\" and did whatever the jamming asteroids they chose to do.\n\nHe couldn't even complain, because then it would be associated with his young age and his general tendency to be a whiner. But Darien wasn't a sniveling puppy; people just didn't get him. He was the first to smack himself when he was being stupid and whiny.\n\nDarien took his damned helmet off. Planet X (for him it wasn't even Xad anymore) had excellent levels of oxygen; thus, it was ridiculous to be wearing that gadget under two scalding suns. He shook his sweaty mass of red curls. This was his only act of rebellion; regulations required his hair be no longer than a centimeter, but who was going to get there with a razor to make him comply? And to make his action more defiant, something in the gravity of the planet made his hair grow faster than usual. It already covered his ears after almost four months, becoming a turban under the helmet.\n\nAt least snow-haired assholes one and two didn't follow his lead and had their regulation buzzed haircuts. For a reason he'd never wanted to analyze, white hair nauseated him. He didn't know if it was because he associated it with old age, decay and death.\n\nFrederick and Jacques screwing the brains out of each other has nothing to do with decaying flesh, though.\n\nDarien had caught them twice in undesignated areas going at it like pistons. He was miffed by this insubordination, but secretly, it was more out of envy. They had one another; Darien was alone.\n\nHis increasing horniness did not help matters either. Masturbation didn't satisfy him at all. He longed for the touch of another being to conquer his itch. _Enough._ What he needed to do was focus on his task in this exterior area of Temple Alpha. All the technology of the universe, and archaeology still relied on trowel and brush for successful accomplishment, which wasn't a bad thing. Manual labor distracted him somehow.\n\nNevertheless, that somehow wasn't happening today.\n\nThe group of androids under his command worked methodically when suddenly, they all went face first into the dirt, all energy drained from them. The strident sound of horns deafened him; he covered his ears and shut his eyes. Darien had read somewhere of a city wall destroyed by the sound of horns; this was what it must have sounded like, enough to make anyone go crazy.\n\nWhat in the Seven Planets is that?\n\nThe ground began shaking, and a figure emerged from the mound at his right. It was big and brown and crazy looking with spikes and what seemed like furious skulls. Darien thought perhaps he shouldn't have dismissed all the talk of a curse and a sacred guardian on the old documents after all. Whatever this was didn't seem friendly, and those deafening horns were making him want to scream.\n\nWith heavy steps, the bulky thing descended, everything trembling in its wake. Darien stood up and drew out his fragger, ready to shoot. He didn't have the best aim, but the thing was so massive it wouldn't take that much to put a hole in it somewhere.\n\nAlong with the chill of impending disaster, Darien felt sweat run down his spine, his entire body inside the suit completely clammy. As whiny as everyone thought he was, he was not going to roll over and let this freak send him to the next life. He wasn't leaving without at least one or two blasts left behind in the _byotch_ carcass.\n\nThe humongous monster halted with a raised hand, stopping the horns altogether. Darien heard the shrill of the energy concentrating as his fragger prepared for discharge. His determination didn't shake; even if the thing didn't possess any visible weapons, he'd never seen anything like it before, and therefore, he couldn't be confident.\n\nNightmare-thing directed its hands toward its head and removed it, showing that it was a helmet. What came out of the helmet left Darien stunned.\n\nPurple Byotch!\n\n_Magnificent_ would be insufficient to describe the beauty of the man. His eyes were pure cobalt, and his lips were pink as the first rays of the sunrise. Angular and masculine, his face ought to be in museums of every galaxy. Not even the white hair, straight and to one side, diminished the otherworldly features.\n\n\"Put your gun down, please. I am Kekoa Wana'ao, guardian and priest of this planet.\" The eidolon smiled, exuding ethereal charm. \"What's your name, pretty one?\"\n\n\"You speak my language?\" If you needed a stupid question, that was the perfect one.\n\n\"I learned your language when the first group of your Cygnus Federation came to snoop around.\"\n\n\"But that was two hundred standard years ago!\" Darien could see Ben rolling his eyes. _Obvious much?_\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"You don't look much older than me.\" Was Darien in dimwit mode or what?\n\n\"I'm aging well?\" Kekoa uttered with a smirk, making his statement sound like a question, his amazing eyes sparkling, his pale skin bright with the sunlight.\n\n\"What did you do with my androids?\"\n\nFinally, a sensible question.\n\n\"Took them out of the way.\" Kekoa did everything but shrug.\n\n\"Why would you do that?\"\n\n\"Because you're coming with me, pretty one,\" Kekoa thunder-purred, drawing closer.\n\nDarien lost consciousness as if he had been squashed like a bug under a heavy, heavy boot.\n\n### CHAPTER THREE\n\nKekoa studied the naked human on his bed. \"Honeyed agate? Check. Orange flames? Check.\" He couldn't call those red curls anything but flames, and what about that fiery crotch? Even resting, the young man's cock was a mouthful. He continued his mental counting. \"Outlander minister? Check.\"\n\nThe heart of gold was yet to be discovered, but three out of four was enough. If this human wasn't his mate, then what was he doing on Kekoa's planet?\n\nHis race shared enough genetic traces with humans to produce a perfect offspring without too much trouble. Now the only real issue was how to unveil his destiny to this youngling. Did he even like his own sex? Well, Kekoa would do everything in his hands to make this pretty thing fall in love with him. What was the point of having a mate if said mate didn't love you?\n\nHe drew closer to the lean, perfect body and inhaled deeply, savoring the essence before him—pure like crystalline water. \"Untarnished,\" Kekoa rumbled, and his voiced thought woke up the sleeping mystery.\n\nBig hazel eyes—the honeyed agates—drilled him, first wide as saucers then narrowed with suspicion. \"What in the Seven Planets are you doing, sniffing me like a dog?\"\n\n\"I don't know what a dog is, but it doesn't sound like a nice thing to say.\" Kekoa chuckled, moving his body away. \"You never told me your name.\"\n\n\"Where am I?\" He was young, but his voice was deep and rich, an invitation, a caress.\n\nLooming over the intruder again, Kekoa asked, \"Your name?\"\n\nThe nameless boy dropped his eyes from Kekoa's face to his own body and let out a sound similar to a growl. \"Shit, why am I naked?\"\n\n\"Too many questions and no answers.\" Kekoa leaned forward and inhaled the perfumed sweat coming from the fire curls framing the chiseled features. He would surely nuzzle that crotch—and other parts—sooner rather than later.\n\n\"Hey, pervert, stop it.\" The young man pushed him by the shoulder and sat, pulling some of the bedclothes over his lap. Not fast enough to divert Kekoa from noticing that delicious cock beginning to enlarge.\n\n\"Your name.\"\n\nAlmost rolling his eyes, and exhaling in a funny, dramatic way, the nameless boy blew curls from his forehead. \"All right, Darien Muselet is the name. Now, I want answers.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Kekoa conceded, smiling and waggling his eyebrows.\n\n\"Are you making fun of me?\" Darien asked, arching an eyebrow and narrowing his eyes again in that sexy way that made Kekoa want to devour him.\n\n\"I'd never do such a thing.\" Kekoa put a hand over his chest to demonstrate his sincerity.\n\n\"Well, in my culture we only waggle our eyebrows that way when we're mocking someone. So don't do that again unless you mean it.\"\n\n\"Point taken.\" Kekoa browsed the square pectorals with avid eyes. He admired the rosy nipples, so fair they were almost imperceptible on the creamy skin. This Darien was a work of art; Kekoa drooled about the front, when the back of the masterpiece proposed amusement that was even more delightful.\n\n\"Stop it.\"\n\n\"Was I doing something?\" Although Kekoa knew extremely well what he had been doing.\n\n\"You're looking at me like I'm a meal. If you're gonna eat me, at least kill me first. Being eaten alive is not on my bucket list.\"\n\n\"I assure you, I intend to have my mouth near your body but not in the way you think. Androphagy is not in our customs.\"\n\nThe whiff of time it took Darien to understand the implications of those words rewarded Kekoa with crimson cheeks and a sulking scowl. \"You're violating like a thousand intergalactic accords with your behavior, Mr. Priest.\"\n\nSo he remembers.\n\n\"I told you my name is keh KOE ah - wa NA aoh.\" He enunciated in case the boy hadn't gotten it the first time. \"The priesthood is just an added title to my position as Guardian of goddess Meha's temples.\"\n\n\"Most priests I know are celibate,\" Darien grunted, pulling more fabric toward his lap.\n\nIt didn't escape Kekoa the way Darien studied him. How Darien traced with eager eyes his face and his chest, visible through the open folds of his robe. It had been a good move to leave Darien naked but keep some covering on himself. The young explorer had never been touched, but that didn't mean he wasn't burning to know another's skin. Kekoa could smell the desire spiraling from him like toxic gas from a fissure in the ground.\n\n\"So you're a priest then?\" Kekoa teased, hoping that wasn't the case because then his battle to obtain the boy's heart would become a war.\n\nOh, but I have all kinds of weapons even against gods.\n\n\"What makes you think I'm a priest?\" Darien spat with contempt. \"Or celibate, if that is what you're inferring.\"\n\n\"I can smell a virgin from a thousand klicks,\" Kekoa growled. \"Nothing has defiled your body, not even a kiss.\"\n\n****\n\nThe man with white hair traced Darien's lower lip with his thumb, disarming him. The edge of the wide sleeve of his robe caressed his right nipple, drawing an involuntary moan from Darien. So much for trying to act like he was unaffected by Kekoa's raw sensuality.\n\nIn the back of his mind, Darien chanted, _it was my choice, my choice, my choice._\n\n\"Then what am I, a freak?\" Darien couldn't be quiet. His pride demanded that he rebel against that insinuation, but he didn't want Kekoa's thumb away from his lip either.\n\n\"I would say a fortunate anomaly, instead.\" Kekoa's eyes bored into Darien's. \"That can be swiftly remedied.\"\n\nThat was what Darien needed, a quick pounding to get rid of his damned virginity and become a complete man. \"Yes.\"\n\nGory purple byotch!\n\nDarien was following his brother's steps to whoredom.\n\nAre you proud, Ben?\n\n\"Not so fast, my pretty explorer. I want you to remember your first time always.\" Kekoa covered Darien's mouth with his. First a brush of lips, then suction and poking; Darien opened his mouth for Kekoa to enter, and his head spun. Forget absence of gravity, this was absence of matter.\n\n\"Your tongue.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Give me your tongue.\"\n\nAs Kekoa sucked his tongue, Darien's cock grew harder than it already was. In the moment his hand moved to take care of it, he remembered the man making him dizzy was the enemy. Not just that, he had offensive white hair and—according to him—was older than the oldest person Darien knew.\n\nHe pushed Kekoa away abruptly. \"I cannot do this.\"\n\nBut by the Seven Planets, his body craved it with desperation.\n\n### CHAPTER FOUR\n\nKekoa understood Darien's reticence and offered Darien food when his stomach protested. He gave Darien garments made of dark and sinful material. Although quite fitting and not outrageous, it was a liquid caress, richer than the most exquisite silk of Darien's planet, Randell. It was an absolute pity when Kekoa appeared dressed in a similar fashion, depriving Darien of the fantastic view he had earlier. However, not everything was lost since the muscle-hugging pants and contour-adoring top gave him a constant reminder of all the concealed goodness.\n\nDarien didn't have a clue as to how long he'd been there, but his hungriness gave him a close idea. They ate making small talk, and Kekoa insisted in veering the conversation toward sexual topics.\n\n\"To use the words of a wise man from your first expedition 'I can fuck many, but I will only love one.'\" Kekoa enjoyed his drink as if oblivious to his blatant statement.\n\n\"You were there with them? There is no record of any interaction with a local.\" Darien acted nonchalant, but his big mouth got in the way as always. \"And we don't use that word anymore.\"\n\n\"What word?\"\n\n\"Fuck,\" Darien cited succinctly. \"But do tell, how?\"\n\n\"I know whatever happens on this planet.\" Kekoa shrugged elegantly.\n\n\"That's not the answer to my question. I want the mechanics.\" Darien wanted to be harsh, but Kekoa's handsome face kept sidetracking him.\n\n\"This planet has more secrets than a Mustafarian whore.\" This time the white-haired man winked.\n\n\"Can you hear my companions now?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Show me.\"\n\nThey walked to a control room, and Kekoa punched commands on a keypad.\n\nFrederick's concerned voice surrounded Darien. \"What are we going to do, love?\"\n\n\"Standard procedure is seventy-two hours,\" Jacques simply quoted. \"He's most likely wandering around.\"\n\n\"How? His transport remained at his site. All his androids were deactivated. I don't like this.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, sweetheart. We are the only living beings on this planet. He still has twenty hours to come back before we need to contact the Council.\"\n\n\"Those two are a couple?\" Kekoa inquired.\n\nDarien refrained from eye rolling. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"You seem like you don't approve.\" Kekoa sounded uncannily amused.\n\n\"No comment. I need to let them know I'm okay. A _prisoner_ but okay.\"\n\n\"You are _not_ a prisoner,\" Kekoa thunder-purred, sending chills down Darien's spine.\n\n\"Then why can I not return to my base?\"\n\n\"It's complicated.\" Kekoa paused as if weighing something up. \"Your people must leave the planet at once and never set foot on it again. I'm going to make a deal with you. We are going to contact them and tell them to exit the planet, and you will stay with me here for sixty standard days as collateral. If you refuse, I'll obliterate them.\"\n\n\"That's coercion. What assurance do I have you will not kill me as soon as they're gone?\"\n\n\"I could have done that by now, don't you think?\"\n\nKekoa had a point there.\n\n\"Even if I accept, they won't,\" Darien said.\n\n\"They will because I'm going to threaten them with your life.\"\n\n\"How can I trust someone who speaks of killing others as he talks about the weather?\"\n\nOr sex as if it were the same thing.\n\n\"Your death is not in my plans.\"\n\nDarien growled, \"Oh, just contact them and shut up.\"\n\nThey moved to a different room, this one looking more like the bridge of a spaceship. Kekoa hailed Darien's base. \"Greetings, invaders. I am Kekoa Wana'ao, guardian and priest of the sacred places you are defiling.\"\n\n\"How can it be so if this planet is deserted?\" Jacques growled, but the interest was obvious in his narrowed eyes.\n\n\"It is not. I have your Darien Muselet in my custody, and I request your immediate departure of this planet or he will be exterminated.\"\n\n\"We want to see him,\" Frederick said, stepping beside his lover.\n\nKekoa allowed Darien to show himself on the screen.\n\n\"Captain, are you all right?\" Darien's subordinates asked in unison.\n\n\"Yes, I am fine. Accept this bastard's demands and leave the planet.\" Darien scowled at Kekoa for good measure. His crew—or Kekoa for that matter—didn't need to know he was staying willingly.\n\n\"But, Captain, we cannot leave you behind.\"\n\n\"I'm not asking you, Jacques. I'm giving you an order. Inform the Council they are not to send more expeditions to this wretched planet because next time there will be a massacre. We don't want an incident.\"\n\n\"What about you? All intergalactic laws abhor the taking of hostages.\"\n\n\"This _priest_ says he will let me go in sixty standard days. For now, we have no other option than to trust him.\"\n\n\"Captain, this is madness.\" Frederick shook his head.\n\n\"I gave you an order. See it through.\"\n\n\"Aye, aye, Captain.\" Both men disappeared after sharp nods.\n\n\"I didn't know you were the captain of the expedition.\"\n\nAgain, that amused tone.\n\n\"You never asked.\" Darien felt like blowing a raspberry in Kekoa's direction.\n\n\"True,\" Kekoa murmured. The smuggest grin decorated his insanely distracting face.\n\nBack in the previous room, Darien observed the swift dismantling of his excavation area. His androids lay scattered like the abandoned corpses of a bloodless battle. Frederick and Jacques' team worked to retrieve them. \"You're gonna pay for those androids,\" Darien hissed to disguise the anxiety possessing him with each passing second.\n\n****\n\nKekoa chuckled. \"I just discharged them. They are not damaged.\" He noticed the boy was restrained but twitchy. He was more than sure it wasn't the fact that his people were packing, but that he still had his virginity intact.\n\nI will take care of that, but there's no reason to rush now.\n\nHe's all mine.\n\nIn reality, Kekoa didn't know how he'd summoned the control to avoid becoming all paws over that creamy, vestal body. He knew the boy was young, perhaps only a quarter of the average one hundred standard years humans lived. Almost exactly the equivalent of his well-enjoyed six hundred standard years.\n\nKekoa always thought humans were pretty; what he couldn't have foreseen was his mating to one of them. Even if he didn't have irrefutable proof yet that the boy was his mate, something in the way Darien scanned his body became an insanely potent pull. He put a hand over the young man's shoulder, doing his best not to squeeze it. \"I'll take good care of you.\"\n\nDarien looked his way with that sexy narrowed scowl of his. \"If you think I'm going to stay here passively waiting for you to _take care of me_ , you're delusional.\" He paused, maybe trying to find the courage to say something else.\n\nNo, not the courage, this youngling didn't strike him as a coward. That, in turn, launched Kekoa's imagination into all sorts of _oh-so-not-passive_ scenarios, including his face burrowed between those round, delicious cheeks.\n\nDarien interrupted Kekoa's swift machinations. \"I want answers, I want details, and above all, I need to know the reasons why you hurry people away from this planet.\"\n\n\"Fair enough. By the way, you called me _bastard_. I know that word.\"\n\n\"It was for show.\" For the first time since being around Kekoa, Darien smirked.\n\nAll the former machinations rushed to Kekoa's loins, enhanced by the smug, handsome features. \"It didn't sound like that. It was very convincing.\"\n\n\"The fact that I want to strangle you because you made me a hostage helped a lot.\" Darien grimaced, scrunching his nose.\n\nIf that didn't make Kekoa want to devour the human, he didn't know what would.\n\n### CHAPTER FIVE\n\nThey watched the human spaceship leave the planet the next day. Colvis had very few hours of night, but since they were close to the core of the planet, it didn't make a difference. Kekoa learned during the second Cygnus Federation expedition that they'd named his home Planet XZ345. As if it was some random asteroid.\n\nKekoa didn't plan on letting Darien go back to his people, but perhaps it was time to let the galaxy know Colvis wasn't an abandoned, cursed planet. Mostly.\n\nSleeping arrangements had been awkward the previous night since Darien insisted on sleeping fully clothed. Kekoa only shrugged and started to undress, taking each garment off slower than necessary just to tease his charge. Darien did his best to remain unmoved but failed miserably, changing colors many times. They slept in a sixty-nine position, with Darien's booted feet at Kekoa's eye level.\n\nI'm going to sixty-nine him soon enough.\n\nDarien has no idea how patient I can be.\n\nHe will wake up one day so in love with me he won't be able to breathe.\n\nDarien remained impassive as the ship disappeared into the atmosphere and then into open space. He turned to face Kekoa. \"Show me where the food is coming from. I don't want to be eating an eight-headed thing.\"\n\n\"I'll do you one better. I'm going to give you a tour of your home for the next sixty standard days. What do you think?\" Kekoa hoped—well, he was sure—by the end of that period Darien would never want to leave his side.\n\n\"Fifty-nine,\" Darien tossed, walking past him. \"One day is already gone.\"\n\n\"Smart ass.\" Kekoa chuckled following Darien out of the control room. \"Or is that something you don't say anymore either?\"\n\n\"Ass is fine.\" Darien twirled and pointed an accusatory finger at him. \"If you dare to say _my_ ass is fine, you're gonna be in a lot of trouble, _priest_.\"\n\n\"The truth should never be offensive.\" Kekoa shrugged and with a flourish showed the way with a toothy smile.\n\n****\n\nIf he shrugs one more time like that, I'm gonna tear his clothes apart.\n\nDarien warred with his horniness. He was a prisoner. He wasn't supposed to be lusting after his effing jailer, a hot as Nova jailer (as much as he wanted to scream the opposite), white hair and all.\n\nThey stopped at a balcony looming over an extensive vegetable garden where many androids, more humanoid looking than Darien's own, worked fervently. The greenery below them sent a pang of guilt by making him remember his brother's obnoxious but now sure-as-home green tea. It also forced him to realize the cinnamon and clove fragrance following him since he became a prisoner emanated from Kekoa.\n\n\"You're the only person here?\" Darien asked, enraptured by the way the false light of the place played on Kekoa's pristine locks.\n\n\"I'm not alone anymore.\" Kekoa's cobalt eyes flashed mischievously.\n\n\"Pfft, my visit is but a speck in what is an insanely long existence if I accept you were here when my people came for the first time.\" Kekoa was imperturbable so Darien continued, \"How do you cope?\"\n\n\"You're either an enigma or don't know how to make up your mind. One minute you act with disdain and the following you're worried about my wellbeing.\" Kekoa removed a wandering curl from Darien's brow.\n\nDarien's first instinct was to swat the hand away, and he did. \"Hands off!\" At Academy, guys were always trying to touch him. He had never had time for boys.\n\n\"No hands, then.\" Kekoa crushed Darien with his imposing frame. Hands caged him, posted on either side of the rail, pressing their chests together and locking their lips.\n\nAs much as the action had been forceful, the gentle mouth covering Darien's sent him to blissful places. His knees weakened, and he forgot how to gain oxygen; his lower back bent over the rail at an awkward but strangely pleasant angle. He clutched Kekoa's strong shoulders with both hands—perhaps for safety, perhaps because it felt like the right thing to do.\n\nInfinite minutes later, Kekoa chuckled, breaking their kiss. \"How can you be so soft and so hard at the same time?\" He moved his hand to caress the burning hardness covered by Darien's pants.\n\nStill dizzy, Darien was surprised when his snarky reflexes fired up. \"It can get harder in tighter places.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" Kekoa's cobalt flames bored into him. \"Tempting offer.\"\n\nThe white-haired man's breath caressed Darien's mouth, and a shiver ran through his whole body, aggravating him.\n\n\"You're just a monumental tease,\" Darien spat out. \"I'm sure if I took off all my clothes, right here right now, you would leave me hard and hanging.\" He pushed Kekoa away and straightened himself, dusting nonexistent specks from his clothes, a scowl firmly in place.\n\n\"At risk of sounding ridiculous, I must tell you I want more than your body.\"\n\n\"Pfft, yeah, you do,\" Darien blurted, his hands like talons gripping the rail in a lame attempt to keep them off Kekoa.\n\n\"I do what, pretty one?\" Kekoa looked believably clueless.\n\n\"Sound like a ridiculous poser. You don't need to promise love to get into my pants. I'm willing.\"\n\n\"That I see.\" Kekoa looked him up and down, zeroing in on his bulging crotch.\n\nDarien's hands flew to the snaps of his pants, ready to let it all out.\n\nKekoa stopped him with an iron clasp on his left wrist. \"Not right here, not right now. You're just upset because your crew departed. I don't want your first to be a hate fuck. As much as I enjoy it rough, that's not the way I envision it with you.\"\n\n\"So it has to be on your terms, when you choose?\" Darien growled, seriously wanting to maul Kekoa.\n\n\"You can also choose the moment, but when you arrive at the appropriate mindset.\" Kekoa released his grip and held one of Darien's hands quietly, trying to intertwine their fingers.\n\n\"My mind doesn't need to be there.\" Darien snatched his hand away abruptly. Their fingers laced like that felt too good to let it happen. He just wanted to become a man, not to find a lover.\n\n\"What you're lacking is food.\" Kekoa nodded toward the living area. \"Come on. Let's eat something.\"\n\nDarien managed to growl and blow a raspberry at the same time, nicely finishing by sticking out his tongue. Once his erection subsided, his grumpy stomach took the reins of his body. He didn't have any other option than to follow Kekoa's perky ass toward the wafting aromas of their breakfast. This removed his imploding head from all the things he wanted in his mouth that were not necessarily food.\n\nBut those will give me nourishment nonetheless.\n\n### CHAPTER SIX\n\nFor some reason I am not able to calculate, he wants me to feel something for him before he takes me. I don't want to feel anything. I've seen what relationships do to people. My parents are not happy. That's why Ben is a whore and I am an effing virgin. Even sappy Frederick and Jacques, I'm pretty sure all that honeyed façade is a monumental ruse, a candy-coated sham. I don't believe in Love.\n\nBut Darien couldn't deny how good it felt to discover the day in Kekoa's arms, the way those tender yet demanding kisses awakened every pore of his body. How perfectly their symmetries aligned when they spooned. Already ten days, and twenty of the one hundred starships guarding his heart had succumbed to that effing, older-than-dirt, purple _byotch_ guardian of the planet—Kekoa. At this rate, before the end of these ominous sixty standard days, Darien would be pliant and complacent, thinking of pink nebulas and Kardashian sunsets.\n\nAlone in their bedroom (did he just think of this place as theirs? Jamming asteroids), learning Kekoa's language thanks to a linguistic helmet, Darien got distracted by the entrance of the head android coming to pick up their used garments. If they didn't all look exactly the same, he would have thought they were actual men. Beautiful naked men.\n\nWhoever designed these androids paid too much attention to detail regarding round buttocks and perfect torsos, with wide shoulders and defined muscles. However, this architect crudely shattered the illusion by depriving these technological jewels of a potent cock. They seemed like little boys' action figures with their smooth, convex crotches, most likely to prevent their owners from using them as sexual toys.\n\nSomeone who didn't need external tools for sex was Kekoa. Darien had caught a holoconf with two nice-looking, white-haired guys truly disappointed because Kekoa was not going to be able to let them visit to entertain him. Kekoa had explained to Darien his entire race possessed white hair independent of age, but that many people colored it. Darien knew that little formative comment had been an ill-conceived trick to distract him from the fact that he'd walked into their carnal conspiracy. As corny as it might be, Darien felt a pang of jealousy for their intimacy.\n\nMaybe if Kekoa just used him from Nova and back, Darien wouldn't be developing this imploding attachment to his jailer. He forced himself to remember that even if his sentence had a timeframe; it was still curtailing his freedom.\n\nDarien was ready to give his body, but his heart?\n\nNuh-uh.\n\nHe would not allow that silly thing to spread its legs and be mastered. He would go on the offensive instead of waiting for an attack.\n\nI'm going to seduce the effing Guardian.\n\n****\n\n\"What are you plotting, Fire Curls?\" Kekoa noticed he'd startled Darien upon entering their bedroom. That sexy scowl of his welcomed him. So cute.\n\n\"Brooding over not having any poison to get rid of you,\" Darien spat, narrow-eyed and teeth-bared.\n\n\"Easy, meteor, I thought we were beyond poisoning.\" Kekoa chuckled inwardly. Since sniffing Darien was his favorite pastime, he'd learned what a _dog_ was; also that many times they were all bark and no bite. Darien was such a lovely puppy, of the curly kind. \"You might miss being the little spoon.\"\n\n\"I think you're inhaling more than just me. Don't look at me that way. I've caught you with your nose near me when you think I'm asleep. What is it, Caelum Powder or Vulpecula dust?\"\n\nKekoa laughed aloud. Life with this human would always be interesting. \"The only things I inhale are Frizzy Red and D-skin.\"\n\nDarien grimaced. \"Very funny.\" He sobered up. \"I know you go to the temples on the surface. When do you plan on taking me with you?\"\n\n\"I go there for ritualistic purposes. It never crossed my mind you might be interested.\" An honest mistake, but a mistake nonetheless, Kekoa should have offered first. \"I'll go again in two standard days. You're welcome to join me.\"\n\n\"So, when we were excavating we prevented you from doing these rituals?\" Darien seemed seriously concerned, which gave him an even more adorable countenance.\n\n\"Not at all. The season started after your people left.\" Kekoa sat on the bed close to Darien's legs.\n\n\"Good,\" Darien offered with a nod. \"Do you mind if I organize our supper today? I want to apologize for my _poison_ comment. You've been nothing but kind to me all this time. I guess I just need to be patient.\"\n\n\"Of course not. I'll be delighted to discover what you're planning for us.\" Kekoa stood up and went to the intercom on the wall.\n\nThe head android answered immediately. \"Yes, master?\"\n\n\"Darien will select the dishes for tonight's dinner. Please follow his instructions closely. He has carte blanche to even cook if he chooses to.\" Kekoa did this with the precise intention of seeing if Darien would take the challenge. The android acknowledged his orders, and Kekoa finished the conversation with the biggest smile plastered on his face. \"You cook, right?\"\n\n\"If you want me to act like a househusband, the least you could do is have sex with me, don't you think?\" Darien blurted, little growls dotting his words.\n\n\"We could go back to what was programmed.\" Kekoa shrugged, knowing how much that irked Darien. \"An apology is absolutely unnecessary for your comment. I'm not offended, and I don't feel threatened.\" He winked to put the final splash of mischievousness into his demeanor as he walked back to the bed.\n\nDarien sprang from the bed, almost as if he were escaping from Kekoa's proximity, his eyes mere slits. \"I'm going to the kitchen.\" He stormed out of the room.\n\nMaybe Darien hadn't realized it, but they'd just had all this entertaining exchange in Kekoa's own language. His mate was a fast learner.\n\nHe is on his way.\n\n### CHAPTER SEVEN\n\n\"Everything was excellent, Darien. You surpassed my expectations. I must admit it was just a game to get at you, but you beat me without effort.\"\n\nMore than an apology, Darien's actions seemed like the celebration of a special occasion. He'd even dressed up and acted uncharacteristically amicable during the entire affair. The loose golden shirt contrasted beautifully with his pale skin and brought a wicked shine to his wonderful eyes. The dark pants and knee boots made him seem fit to be adored by the Royal Court. It was a shame they would never be able to attend such functions together.\n\nThis was also the first time Darien had accepted aged liquor from him. For some reason Kekoa didn't want to analyze, the action appeared appropriate for the atmosphere surrounding them tonight.\n\n\"My pleasure. I realized I've been an obtuse whiner. This situation could be a lot worse.\" Darien sipped from his goblet with a faint smile. \"I promise I'll be less hostile from now on.\"\n\nKekoa noted Darien didn't use the word _friendly_. \"By all means, behave as you consider best.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" Darien blew a couple of curls from his forehead. \"I don't know if it's this liquor, but it feels hot in here.\" His free hand undid buttons, revealing creamy pectorals.\n\n\"You'll get used to it.\"\n\n\"I want you to do something, but you have to promise you will, before I ask.\" The cheeky smirk was teasing.\n\n\"Anything you want but your departure from this planet.\"\n\n\"I watched something once, and it would be interesting to try it with you.\" Darien stood up, leaving his goblet on the table next to him. \"Stay there until I tell you otherwise.\"\n\nThe golden shirt became a drapery hanging from a corner of the settee like a discarded memory. Supple muscles shone with the tenuous light they'd chosen for their after dinner conversation, and Kekoa knew in that moment he was in big trouble. He started to say something, and Darien cut him off with a leveled, \"You promised.\"\n\nThe fastenings of his pants came undone, and Kekoa's redheaded mate was already half hard. Kekoa made a silent vow to do his best not to fuck Darien. Not tonight, not yet.\n\nThe worst kind of punishment is to resist temptation.\n\nDarien picked up his goblet, swirling its contents, never breaking eye contact. Working with steady strokes on his cock, he drank some liquor. Agate jewels flashed mischievously as he lowered the drinking vessel and sent Kekoa's mind scattering around the galaxies by dipping his unsheathed cockhead into the cerise liquid.\n\n\"I wonder if this would have a different flavor sampled from here.\" A single drop ran along the shaft as Darien released the curved beast and motioned with a crooked finger toward Kekoa to verify his guess.\n\nKekoa's reticence met taunting.\n\n\"Oh great warrior, wielder of the curse, supreme priest, are you afraid if you taste it, you might become my slave and the roles would be reversed?\" Darien's innocent face as he lazily stroked his cock was devastating.\n\nTearing off his shirt, Kekoa pounced and landed on his knees in front of Darien, ravenous. Temptation was a harsh mistress, and he was very, very weak against her demands. Besides, what could be better than being slave to your own mate?\n\nDarien caressed Kekoa's chin, pulling it softly toward his dripping helmet. When he spoke, his voice came out gentle, soothing. \"Yours.\"\n\nSo many days wanting to do this, and suddenly, it was all there without his bidding. If he was imagining the whole thing, he didn't want to snap from his delusion. The liquor tasted like nectar mingled with Darien's fluids. His body trembled, recognizing the essence of his mate, the tang that would guide him for the rest of his life.\n\nHis whole being tingled with keen need as more and more of Darien's formidable weapon mastered his mouth. The moment his throat muscles closed around the swollen head, Kekoa lost his last vestige of reserve. His spine arched, wanting to be commanded in both ends, Darien's hands raking his hair and driving him crazy.\n\nBleary vision was his reward every time he reached the base with his lips and the flames of Darien's lower curls welcomed his prowess. Kekoa's cock was a fountain fed by Darien's whimpers and moans. Unable to stop himself, Kekoa scooped his precum with avid fingers and reached for his hole, mitigating somehow the turmoil in his rear. Molten heat ran rampant within his core.\n\nOne digit wasn't enough, and as Kekoa added another.\n\nDarien's voice came out strangled, lost. \"What are you doing?\"\n\nFull of cock as he was, Kekoa tried to answer with his eyes and a slight shrug of his shoulders, but the questioning and desire he found in the agate jewels compelled him to voice his urgency. \"I need both holes met.\"\n\nTilting his body, Darien tried to see the fingering pistons, but as Kekoa was a lot taller than he was, there was only one solution. \"Lie on your back.\"\n\nKekoa didn't want to lose the width assaulting his mouth, but a word from his mate rang like a command, so he reluctantly let go with a slow, torturous slide. Unable to break eye contact, he shifted his body, shoulders planted on the floor and legs held to his chest to give Darien a better view.\n\nDarien nodded, silently ordering him to resume his task to mitigate the explosive craving of his entrance. Kekoa gathered more precum. Thank Meha for the powerful lubricant their fluids were.\n\nThree became four, and the raging hunger Kekoa discovered in Darien's eyes could only be conquered one way. \"Fuck me.\" More lubricant found its way to his hole with dabbing motions, and Kekoa spread his legs further, hunching upward, offering completion. Their eyes imperturbably locked. \"Please.\"\n\nLanguid strokes accompanied Darien's unsteady breathing. The red-headed man who was about to stop being a virgin didn't look hesitant but humbled, as if Kekoa was giving him something bigger than anything he'd received before. All his cockiness and mischief melted into sudden devotion. He uttered calmly, \"Yes.\"\n\nWith perfect aim, Darien breached Kekoa's tormented gate, dissolving Kekoa's cells in blinding bliss. As Darien's pace increased, Kekoa's legs draped about Darien's hips, arching his body into the perfect angle for their mouths to dance. A scorching tongue parried with Kekoa's in a lethal choreography designed to make him lose the remnants of his consciousness. Kekoa murmured into Darien's mouth, the sweetest agony reigning over him. \"Mine.\"\n\nKekoa swam in Darien's hazel lakes—minutes, hours, days of seductive invasion—robbing him of his senses. He hissed, \"I won't break. Harder.\"\n\nWet red curls swayed as Darien began the ramming Kekoa's body needed now that the tenderness of the discovery had turned into full, destructive battering. Kekoa wanted to end up dismembered, devastated, scattered.\n\n### CHAPTER EIGHT\n\nI always thought I'd be the one covered by another man.\n\nBy the Seven Planets, I'm losing it on Planet X!\n\nThe clouds adorning Kekoa's head shimmered in the subdued light enveloping them, and contrasted with the burgundy and golden hues of the rug where the Guardian lay, enraptured. On his back but in no way motionless, Kekoa embraced the pounding with resolute intensity and ardor, shattering all of Darien's inane concepts of age and beauty.\n\n\"You feel incredible around my cock,\" Darien announced, breathing haphazardly.\n\nKekoa met his assault with renewed intensity. \"As you do inside me.\"\n\nThe particle in the back of his mind screaming that this was his enemy and what he was doing was absolutely wrong drowned in the flood of sweltering passion laced with infinite gratitude. His squashed pride wanted to remain stoic, telling him he'd seduced his foe, but deep in the sacred vault of his heart, a little flame shone brighter by the second. Darien had been the one conquered, and he went head-on to accept his defeat.\n\nEighty starships had plummeted, like a meteor rain, leaving his heart unguarded for the taking. With each thrust, the closer he came to his orgasm, the more he realized Kekoa hadn't kept him as a mere hostage. Another thing existed, but in this instant, as his body prepared to surrender in annihilating ecstasy, as he peered into the mesmerizing abyss, he did not care.\n\nCobalt suns scorched him as his body became a trillion fleeing atoms; the substance of things surrounding them changed into translucent energy, feathery whispers, irrevocable freedom.\n\nThe condensation of his matter and the clench of the muscles milking the last drops of his climax brought a new wave of delight, and Darien found his voice. \"What in the Seven Planets was that?\"\n\nKekoa smiled, sated, radiant and drenched in his own aftermath. Like a single word, he hissed, \"A certainty.\"\n\nDarien nodded without a complete grasp of the intention or meaning of that response and rested his head on Kekoa's chest, unaffected by the mess and ready to drift.\n\nArmed with his newly found freedom, Darien became the big spoon on their immense bed, commanding the white-haired warrior's body more than once that night.\n\n****\n\nSince he'd been unconscious during his first teleportation, Darien stood dizzily in the atrium of the temple, trying to gather his bearings. He didn't recognize this area but was intimately sure none of the previous expeditions had come this deep within the complexes. While everything on the outside of the monuments looked well preserved but ancient, wherever he was right now seemed polished and maintained as if in constant use.\n\nThey brought with them flowers, fruits and a medium-size cage with a lizard-like, otherworldly creature covered in blue-jeweled scales, reminding Darien of the feathers of a peacock.\n\nBreathtaking in a pristine silver ensemble, with a top similar to chainmail and his muscular legs covered by a material that seemed at once metallic and flexible, Kekoa disturbingly looked the part of the warrior priest he was. His equally platinum boots resounded on the vast expanse with deadly echoes.\n\n\"Have you ever killed anything?\" Kekoa gave Darien a sideways glance as they walked toward the imposing statue of Meha. The feminine representation was at least ten times Kekoa's height, which was already large.\n\nDarien felt for some unexplained reason empowered by his similar outfit, the only difference his was pure white. \"As in another person?\"\n\nKekoa murmured, his eyes still forward, \"Not necessarily. Any living creature.\"\n\n\"Yes. We used to hunt on one of the forest moons of Varax.\" Well, he didn't know if Kekoa knew where Varax was, but that was the answer.\n\n\"Good, then you won't be grossed out by what I'm about to do.\" This time Kekoa faced him with a wicked grin. \"Some people don't mind killing other people but get squeamish when it's other creatures.\"\n\n\"I know. It doesn't make sense. I think the logical reaction should be to have reservations about killing your own kind.\"\n\n\"In some individuals it becomes an acquired taste,\" Kekoa uttered cryptically.\n\nBefore Darien could ask the meaning of those words, Kekoa stopped them close to the enormous pedestal and, with a finger over his lips, silenced him. Speaking in an incomprehensible language, Kekoa moved his hands as a prestidigitator would, summoning chunks of the walls at either side of them.\n\nThe blocks flew toward the space between them and the base of the giant statue, neatly forming an altar. From the monolithic foundation under Meha, something similar to a bowl emanated, landing on the center of the recently formed altar. As if it had always been part of it.\n\n\"What you're about to do is a great honor. One I share with you immersed in infinite gratefulness.\" Kekoa bent a little and kissed the top of Darien's head. \"I'm glad you are here.\"\n\nHands busy with flowers and fruits, Darien had to repress the now natural motion of pulling Kekoa into his arms. Resigned, he uttered, \"Me too.\" He felt silly instantly because that could have meant he was happy that Kekoa was glad or that he was happy because he was there. He wanted to kick himself for being inarticulate at the worst possible moments.\n\nKekoa smiled at him, perhaps reading his inner tirade or simply enjoying his company in this sacred place.\n\nGrr. This is the most stupid moment to have an argument with myself.\n\n\"Place your offerings on the altar and display them inside the _boule_ , first the fruits and then sprinkle the flowers over them.\" Kekoa traced one hand up and down Darien's back, soothing and encouraging at once. \"Take your time and think about her.\"\n\nDarien worked on his oblation, remembering the exchange they had the previous night.\n\n\"She was the goddess of passion and turmoil who evolved into the goddess of war.\"\n\n\"That doesn't make any sense.\"\n\n\"Don't we all fight for love at some point in our lives? It makes sense that passion and war became one and the same in the minds of our ancestors. Her presence lingers here. This is her planet. That is why we can't completely abandon or destroy it.\n\n\"Legend says that in a ritualistic love-making obeisance for the goddess, General Kaweh discovered the five points to destroy an enemy inspired by the goddess' wisdom. Your orifices, your senses, your limbs, your head, your heart. Thus, the five temples were created to develop the knowledge to defeat our enemies. This happened when the planet where your people originated from was still covered in lava and newborn, millions of years ago.\n\n\"That is why your people or any other should not explore here. The information contained in these abandoned buildings can be used to conquer entire galaxies easily.\"\n\nDarien finished. The composition was lovely, and aside from the recall of their conversation, he felt a gentle pull toward the presence surrounding them, dotting his intention with the desire to please Meha.\n\nKekoa put his hand over Darien's right shoulder. \"It's perfect.\" Slowly threading along his shoulder and arm, Kekoa held his hand and pulled him a step behind. Once again, in that incomprehensible but melodic language, Kekoa waved his hands, still holding Darien's. A murmur (like wind zigzagging through many corridors) encompassed them, and Darien followed Kekoa's line of vision upward. A dagger emerged from the breast of the goddess and descended in a surprisingly straight line in their direction. It quietly landed on Darien's open palm still held by Kekoa.\n\nWith his other hand, Kekoa pronounced more incantations, and the cage released the jeweled beast. It floated until centered upon the _boule_ containing Darien's offering. Fingers intertwined, their hands closed on the hilt of the dagger; they sliced the lizard-like sacrifice together. A liquid as transparent as crystalline water escaped from the wound, dripping over flowers and fruits, and making them crackle as if an inner fire consumed them.\n\n\"We give you the blood of a creature of the earth so you don't ask for ours, Mother, Queen, Owner,\" Kekoa said in his native language, Colviri; a tongue that had come easily to Darien.\n\nDarien remained speechless as the lizardesque animal settled over the other contents of the sacrificial bowl, and the entire oblation disintegrated inwardly, as if devoured by a black hole. A continuous crackling sound accompanied the vanishing, and the aroma of sunny valleys surrounded them.\n\nHands still laced, they lifted their arms, releasing the dagger, which ascended in the same uncannily straight manner to the breast of the goddess, doing a one hundred and eighty degree rotation to disappear as it had appeared.\n\nEvery pore of his body hummed, and Darien felt elated, renewed—as if what he'd just witnessed could clarify all the queries his soul had been harboring unbeknown to him.\n\nKekoa chanted again, never losing the hold on Darien's hand. The _boule_ returned to the pedestal, and the altar disassembled, its parts returning to the temple's walls.\n\nThey'd done all this standing side by side, and now, Kekoa turned to face Darien with his entire body, holding both hands in his. Flashing cobalt eyes and sunrise-colored lips smirking with delight greeted Darien. \"It would be a nice offering to make love at her feet.\"\n\nThe whirlpool swallowing Darien became a groaned, \"Yes.\"\n\n### CHAPTER NINE\n\nKekoa undressed Darien with the same reverence he'd just used to offer a sacrifice to his deity. A presence Darien sensed thrumming within him as if he had adored her his whole life.\n\nOnce both were naked, Kekoa covered every part of him with wet kisses, stopping to bestow special emphasis on his more tender and sensitive areas. Kekoa's hair trailed behind every kiss, enhancing the marvelous sensations. When Darien rested on his stomach and Kekoa finally kissed him between his cheeks with a playful lick into his hole, he knew what he really ought to offer.\n\nDarien arched his body seeking the Guardian's face. Confused for a moment, Kekoa peered at him. Darien nodded, turning his body again to rest on his back and pulling Kekoa between his legs. \"I need you inside me. I want to give this up at her feet. I feel it means something for you, for me, for her. I still don't know what, but I'm positive it's the right thing to do.\"\n\n\"Our union is sacred. With each passing second, it is dawning on you more clearly. I can promise you eternal love, my mate. You just have to accept it.\"\n\nDarien relished the thickness of Kekoa's cock nestled between his cheeks, spreading, teasing, leaking. \"Is that what I'm feeling? That we're mates and meant to be together.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Kekoa kissed him, biting Darien's lower lip softly and laughing as Darien wrapped his legs around him.\n\n****\n\n\"There are no such things as coincidences,\" Kekoa told Darien, his chest ready to explode. His mate made an offering with him to his goddess, and she'd received it with open arms. Now, his explorer was about to give an even bigger oblation: his manhood. \"With this we become equals, as one.\"\n\n\"What I want exactly. Completely yours, completely mine.\" Darien's deep voice caressed him. His once vestal fragrance had turned into the piquant rumble of a sandstorm.\n\nKekoa kissed his mate again and traveled south, marking the way with licks and more kisses, until he took Darien's cock in his mouth. Darien groaned and writhed happily, thrusting upward, desperate to give him more. Kekoa settled Darien comfortably over his lap. With one hand, he controlled the rigid cock massaging his lips and used the other to tease the still virgin cavity. His abundant fluids provided the perfect lubrication for the debut about to happen.\n\nFiery curls swayed, and Darien grunted, \"I cannot take this anymore. What are you waiting for?\"\n\n\"Say it,\" Kekoa chuckled, letting his cockhead breach the tight ring just a little more.\n\n\"Sodding imploding _byotch_! Please, Kekoa, fuck me from here to Nova and back!\"\n\nThe potent order activated every atom of his being. \"Aye, aye, my Captain.\" And, thus, Kekoa spiraled with his mate to the place where Oblivion and Bliss are entwined lovers.\n\nDarien moaned and groaned an incoherent litany; just a few words made sense to Kekoa. \"Good... hard... mercy... forever.\"\n\nMinutes or eons later, Kekoa's body froze as Darien screamed his orgasm, twisting Kekoa's cock with an intimate, muscled fist. Then Kekoa exploded, inundating his mate, white flashes blurring his vision. The solid walls of the temple vibrated with his own cry.\n\nKekoa crumbled over Darien, exhausted and sated like never before in his six hundred years. Not even two simultaneous lovers had given him this ecstatic relief. The swirling energy signaling the union with his mate enveloped them. He rolled, pulling Darien with him and cradling the red head in his arms, the disheveled curls tickling his chin.\n\nOn the verge of sailing to the land of dreams, Kekoa opened his eyes to give silent thanks to Meha.\n\nHe could have sworn he saw the goddess smiling.\n\n### CHAPTER TEN\n\nThe sixty-first day found them immersed in an idyllic trance. If a smidge of doubt had ever tried to dampen Darien's happiness, Kekoa's truthful kisses quickly chased it away. Darien prayed deep in his heart his family had given him up for dead and never tried to come back to Colvis.\n\nBeing a son of a consul of the Federation, that hope was pure wishful thinking.\n\n\"Masters, a starship of the Cygnus Federation is hailing us.\" The voice of the head android hovered over their tangled limbs.\n\nKekoa pulled Darien's now shoulder-length hair playfully. \"Is it that day already?\"\n\n\"Ouch.\" Darien swatted Kekoa in an equally child-like manner. He sighed. \"I was dreading this moment.\"\n\n\"Send a confusion signal. That would give us time to be presentable,\" Kekoa ordered.\n\n\"Yes, master.\"\n\nThey dressed for war.\n\n****\n\nBen's scowl welcomed them. \"Release my brother, you bastard.\" He could not see them holding hands out of the screen's range. Good thing this wasn't a holoconf.\n\n\"Your brother is not a prisoner.\"\n\n\"I want to hear it from him,\" Ben spat, visibly offended. Fumes literally rose from his head.\n\n\"Ben, this is my home now. We're mated.\" Darien gave his brother a _don't you dare contradict me_ face.\n\n\"Jamming asteroids, Darien. What is this _mated_ nonsense? He's not even human!\" Ben growled, frustrated. \"What have you been inhaling?\" He flailed his arms. \"This is not normal. He has white hair, and you loathe that!\"\n\n\"Stop it. Turn around and let me be. We don't have to forget each other, but this is my place now.\" It hurt, but it would hurt more to lose Kekoa.\n\nBen sighed, his entire demeanor changing. \"I didn't want to resort to this, but you leave me no other option.\" He punched several controls on the panel in front of him. A hologram of Consul Muselet, their father, appeared.\n\n\"Captain Darien Muselet, this is not a request but a direct order of the Cygnus Federation Council. You're to board Admiral Muselet's starship immediately, or we declare war on the individual holding you on Planet XZ345. The admiral has the complete fleet at his disposal to proceed in whichever manner he deems necessary.\"\n\nDarien shook his head. Kekoa's hand stroked his lower back, soothing him.\n\n\"Please, little brother, don't do this,\" Ben pleaded. Darien knew that either way their relationship would never be the same again.\n\n\"Give me a moment, Ben.\" Darien held his hand up, then blurred the screen by punching a key. He turned to his mate. \"We have the power to conquer galaxies on this planet, right?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Kekoa nodded.\n\n\"We can take the entire Federation Fleet down, right?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Kekoa hugged him. \"But that doesn't mean they would not keep coming.\"\n\n\"I feel my duty is to you and Meha. You're my family now,\" Darien murmured, squeezing Kekoa.\n\n\"Whatever decision you make, I'll stand by you.\" Kekoa kissed Darien's nose, ruffling his hair.\n\n\"I cannot let them destroy this planet. I promise I'll come back.\" Tears fought to surface, but Darien stood his ground.\n\n\"I know you will. We will be together again.\" This time Kekoa covered his mouth, letting him know how much he needed him, how much he would miss Darien.\n\n\"This is to save our home,\" Darien said it more to convince himself than Kekoa. He cleared the screen, aiming for nonchalant but failing miserably. \"Send an effing transport to pick me up, you whore.\"\n\nEons ago, I thought hara-kiri would be my worst outcome.\n\nBen simply nodded with the saddest smile Darien had ever seen before.\n\n****\n\nThey teleported to the surface, holding hands until his transport arrived.\n\nTheir lips met and locked in a kiss to last Darien a lifetime, enough to keep him going until he was able to return. \"Kekoa Wana'ao, you're my mate, and I will fight until my last breath to be by your side again. This I promise. Take care of our home,\" he said in Colviri.\n\nKekoa smiled with bright eyes, the dry wind of Colvis disheveling his hair. \"Darien Muselet, you're my mate, and nothing in this universe could stop us from being together and happy again. This I promise. Your home will wait for you.\"\n\nDarien caressed the white hair he had learned to love so much, allowing Kekoa to ruffle his fiery locks one more time. He turned and began walking toward the transport's gate.\n\nThe last words Darien heard from Kekoa's lips were \"Truly, a heart of gold.\"\n\nTHE END\n\n####\n\n### ABOUT MY BOYS' NAMES\n\nKekoa is a Hawaiian name meaning the brave one or the soldier.\n\nWana'ao is also Hawaiian, and it means dawn.\n\nDarien comes to us from the Greek, and it means gift.\n\nMuselet is the wire that holds a champagne cork in place.\n\n### About the Author\n\nBorn a Sagittarius in the fabulous year of the Rooster of '69, at the hour when his cat was about to become a complete dragon, Gabbo de la Parra landed on the Caribbean Coast of the outlandish Republic of Panama to start the adventure of life.\n\nLove and the Internet brought him to Middle Tennessee to embrace the American Dream and his husbandly romance. Writing has been an important part of his life since a very early age, and it's a pleasure to share his stories with others thanks to the wonderful opportunities this land provides. His main genres are Historical and Sci-Fi, and he's been combining both lately. Still he dabbles in all genres that embrace hot guys and their pursue of Love in the most descriptive way possible.\n\nHe is the author of the Spaniards series, Prince of Atlantis and other titles available for your eReader devices.\n\n### Gabbo cherishes Life with a southern gentleman, close to a lake in a townhouse (crowded with the spirits of Gabbo's characters) with their pets: black esoteric kitty, Luna; street-smart Russian Blue, Bella; and white emo-twink Maltese, Chance\n\n### I absolutely love that you took the time to read my book.\n\n### Stop by and say Hi!\n\nTwitter: @GabbodelaParra\n\nMy blog: Manly Romance by Gabbo\n\n### Other books by Gabbo de la Parra\n\nPlease visit your favorite ebook retailer to discover my other books\n\n### Bridegroom from Heaven (Spaniards # 1)\n\n### The Stallion & the Dragon (Spaniards # 2)\n\n### Connection\n\n### Prince of Atlantis\n\n### Nashville Dreams\n\n### Immaterial\n\n### Darkest Before Dawn (The Masked Man Serenade)\n\n### How I Lost It On Planet X\n\n### Tarnished Toys\n\n### Nor Sub Nor Dom\n\n### The Road from Maryville\n\n### Wand-Losing & Other Things You Shouldn't Be Doing\n\n### Cenotaph\n\n### Meridian\n\n### Another Dawn on Planet X Teaser\n\nKEKOA\n\nPLANET COLVIS\n\n\"Pan Kekoa, we're at your service.\"\n\n\"Tyke, Sun, your mission remains the same. Stay close to Darien and keep him out of harm's way.\"\n\n\"We received the coordinates you sent. We're on our way to encounter the rescue mission and follow them to Nova Gaia.\"\n\n\"I must stress again that he's not to know of your presence unless it's absolutely necessary. He'll be really pissed off if he learns I'm doing this.\"\n\nSun's bright eyes flashed with mischief. \"But, our pan, wouldn't it be better if he were aware? Wouldn't he cooperate?\"\n\n\"My mate is too proud. I'm not sure he'd even accept direct help from me if he has the means to resolve the issue on his own. No. Stay hidden unless his life is in peril.\"\n\n\"Very well, our pan.\" Tyke smiled. \"If possible, one of us will board his ship in disguise. If not the tracker you put in him will keep us alert of his every move and vitals within the vessel. We can teleport the instant our help is needed.\"\n\n\"Good. Both our lives are in your hands because I won't be able to survive without him.\"\n\n\"It's our most ardent wish that you have a long life with your mate, our pan.\"\n\n\"I thank you for that. It's not our decision to be separated, but we'll find a way. I just have a really bad feeling about this particular mission. He has been all over the galaxy since his departure, but this time... I don't know how to put it into words.\"\n\n\"We have faith in Meha that we'll be there for him if anything goes awry.\"\n\n\"Let's hope it doesn't come to that and I'm just being unnecessarily paranoid. Keep me informed.\"\n\n\"Yes, pan.\" Both men bowed in perfect synchrony as if they were one, and their image dissipated.\n\nAnd to think that before Darien entered Kekoa's life, that uncanny way of moving in unison was an absolute turn on— now, it was simply amusing.\n\nFull of that unsettling sensation churning inside him for days, Kekoa made another call.\n\n\"Why, the Guardian himself. What a pleasant surprise!\" General Ur beamed.\n\n\"How are you?\"\n\n\"Same old, same old. What about you? You don't look all there.\"\n\n\"I need you to go to the Oracle on my behalf.\"\n\n\"What? What's wrong?\" Ur's face instantly turned serious.\n\n\"I'm not sure. Darien is going on a rescue mission to a planet called Nova Gaia in the Mobiri sector. They had a plague about five years ago, and it's taken until now for their Cygnus Federation to resolve to send help.\"\n\n\"And you're worried Darien might get infected?\"\n\n\"No. It's not even that. The population was decimated, but the planet is a hundred percent safe to live on currently. I think the evacuation at this stage is more psychological than actually needed. Just to remove the survivors from the tragedy.\"\n\n\"I see. Then, what is it?\"\n\n\"I can't name it. It's this disturbing impression that something is gonna go terribly wrong, and he'll die or something.\"\n\nThere were worse things than death but those differed from person to person: enslavement, disabilities, losing of one's wealth. His grandfather once said that people living without love were worse than dead.\n\n\"What could be worse than death?\"\n\n\"Ur, you know there are worse things than dying. You, of all people, shouldn't ask such a silly question.\"\n\n\"Those were extraordinary circumstances.\"\n\n\"Everything that happens twice is ought to happen a third time, even if it's eons apart.\"\n\n\"You're right. I'll get in touch with the priests as soon as we end this conversation.\" Ur hesitated for a moment, then spoke, \"May I ask why you're not communing with the goddess directly?\"\n\n\"I don't think I can summon the peace to do it.\"\n\n\"I understand. I'll get to it posthaste.\"\n\n\"Please. He'll be on that planet in less than thirty-six standard hours.\"\n\n\"The priests will not delay on a request from the Guardian.\"\n\n\"Well, this Guardian is going nuts!\"\n\n\"I'll be back with an answer sooner than you can say _floccinaucinihilipilification_.\"\n\nUr was his commanding officer, but Kekoa blurted, his eyes wide like exploding planets, hands pulling his hair and shaking his head \"Are you shitting me? That's a very fucking long word!\"\n\n\"But I made you smile, didn't I?\"\n\n\"Bared teeth are not a smile!\"\n\n\"Guardian, have faith. Meha will not let your mate be lost.\"\n\n\"Faith I have. What I don't have is patience for the unknown.\"\n\n****\n\nALARIC\n\nRESCUE STARSHIP HALCYON'S PEACE\n\nTheir fellow survivors were dispersed in clusters about the immense mess hall. The _liquid_ meals were scheduled in three turns; theirs was the middle one, and they had missed almost half of their allotted time. The line to retrieve the transparent pouches was relatively short since most people were already sitting and conversing in hushed tones.\n\nLiving in a desolated place had left most of them standoffish, minding their own business, and seeking the minimal human contact possible. Apparently, the change of environment had mitigated that somewhat, but the current residents of the _Halcyon's Peace_ weren't as animated as Alaric remembered people could be when reunited in large quantities. Well, this was only day two on the ship after all. The Nova Gaians would come around. They had been happy people, and they would be that again somehow.\n\nAlaric looked around for a group to settle with and found that the most spirited was the one surrounding the little old lady who told him about the rescue as the column of survivors marched toward the rescue point. She appeared to be relating a very interesting story because those encircling her not only looked enraptured but _Oh-ed_ and giggled with her every word. He pointed at them. \"Let's sit there, seems like a very fun group.\"\n\nSule shook his head and trailed after him.\n\nIn the middle of a dramatic pause, while the others had their eyes like plates, Alaric sidled toward her and bowed when her sight rest on him. \"Your blessing, mother.\"\n\nShe smiled. \"The ancestors' and my blessings, boy\" Her whole wrinkled face illuminated. \"Oh, I remember you. Glad you made it, sweet boy. Who's you friend?\" If possible she beamed more, eyeing their joined hands.\n\n\"This is Sule Sarong, mother.\" Alaric let go of Sule's hand, and Sule bowed to the lady. \"But where are my manners, my name is Alaric Aquinas!\"\n\nHer laughter was girly and pleasant as she nodded. \"I'm Margarite. Just Margarite.\" She laughed more.\n\n\"Like the mineral,\" Sule offered. Nova Gaia had large deposits of the pink rock and used it in everything from construction and drilling to electronic components.\n\n\"Well, it also meant 'pearl' in one ancient Terran language. I need to go back to my story since I'm seeing a lot of disappointed faces.\" She giggled musically.\n\nMany of the twelve or so faces ranged from mild annoyance to exasperation to impatience, but there were two or three— frankly hostile. Margarite picked up her story. A cow had fallen from a cliff after being tricked by a wolf hoping to eat her, but she fell right in the middle of some people in a circle chanting and praying for a sign, and then they didn't know whether to eat or worship her. It wasn't the story (which was funny enough), but the way Margarite related it. She made faces and changed voices, moving her hands and body comically.\n\nTwo stories later, Sule and Alaric said their good-byes, promising to arrive earlier the next day to join her. They disposed of their nutrafluids pouches and exited the hall, Alaric following Sule. The uniform trousers were practical and obviously not tailored, having been made for thousands of people; yet, they encased Sule's derriere deliciously, and Alaric couldn't wait to be back in their compartment and bury his face between those cheeks. Now that they were finally together, Alaric seemed unable to be separated from Sule's body.\n\nThey were on their way to two hours of Telluran Government Instruction and, after a break, two more of Telluran Geography. Good thing they didn't have to learn a new language; those were not easy on Alaric.\n\nLuckily, time flew by, and, once again, Alaric walked behind Sule after all their lessons, appreciating the way those lean, hard muscles moved in his uniform en route to their quarters, when a nasty gravelly voice made him look away from his target.\n\n\"We meet again, pretty boy.\"\n\nOh shit.\n\n\"The handsome lad has a name. If I recall correctly I already kicked your sorry asses once. Wanna revisit that memory?\" Sule shielded Alaric with his body.\n\n\"Now, now, we're all gentlemen here.\"\n\n\"I don't think you were ever one,\" Sule growled.\n\n\"You weren't so aggressive on your knees servicing us.\"\n\n\"A finished transaction. I was repaying you for bringing meat from the mountains. There was no coercion involved. I was willing.\"\n\n\"So what's your point?\" said the ugly, apparent leader of the group.\n\n\"You weren't exchanging anything with him, just taking by force. That I would not allow. Not then and not now.\"\n\nExactly. Alaric had also traded sexual favors with this lot in exchange for game. There was no use for money on Nova Gaia after the dust plague; it all became barter. Nevertheless, one thing was consent, and another abuse and rape.\n\n\"C'mon, winter eyes, we refugees need to share.\"\n\n\"Like Hell,\" grunted Alaric, pushing Sule aside. \"You and your ratty-ass band of leeches will get luckier licking latrines than getting a piece of me.\"\n\n\"We will see about that, pretty boy. I always get my prey in the end.\"\n\nThe goon wasn't ready for Alaric's jab.\n\n\"Son of a bitch, you'll pay for this.\" The moron rubbed his face.\n\n\"I'll gladly pay with credits from the same place that one came from,\" Alaric hissed still in a fighting stance.\n\nSpitting blood, the goon turned tail with his gang trailing behind him.\n\n\"Where did you learn to hit like that? That's not a Depot move.\"\n\n\"Berserk remember? Last time they caught me by surprise. As long as my hands are free I can dish a good punch. We weren't friends, but I expected them to have an iota of honor at least.\"\n\n\"Let's hope they keep it gentlemanly. Nonetheless, a fragger is never a bad accessory. We shall talk to the captain about this since we're not allowed to carry weapons.\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure those idiots could find a way to procure some if they wanted. We cannot let them have the upper hand.\"\n\nSule caressed Alaric's cheek. \"Alaric _Berserk_ Aquinas, you need to breathe.\" He chuckled a little.\n\nAlaric smiled and winked, he would not let those fuckers distract him from enjoying his man. \"Let's go. I've plans for you.\"\n\n**Thanks for reading this teaser. Cheers!\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\nFREEDOM CITY\n\nby Peter Menadue\n\nTHE SEQUEL TO 'WEBSTER CITY'\n\n### Published by Peter Menadue\n\n### Copyright 2019 Peter Menadue\n\n\"The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.\" – Gramsci\n\nOTHER NOVELS BY PETER MENADUE\n\nThe Bush Capital series\n\nCrooked House\n\nPaper Man\n\nSpiked\n\nBig Dirt\n\nBad State\n\nFloating Wreckage\n\nThe Gary Maddox series\n\nNot Dead Yet\n\nHard Landing\n\nThe Webster City series\n\nWebster City\n\nFreedom City\n\nMiscellaneous novels\n\nOverdue Item\n\nInside Out\n\nLegal novels writing as 'Mark Dryden'.\n\nTorn Silk\n\nMurder Brief\n\nFalse Witness\n\nCut-throat Defence\nCHAPTER ONE\n\nA week after the Freedom Alliance conquered Webster City, Carl Davidson walked across its deserted central plaza towards the toppled statue of Alexander Webster. A ruthless wind tugged his overcoat. Pigeons squawked overhead.\n\nThe civic monuments that ringed the plaza - the Chancellor's Palace, the Hall of Guardians, the Webster Mausoleum and the New World Cathedral - looked sullen and defeated. Restless smoke seeped from the fire-gutted Mausoleum. In the distance, the shattered skyscrapers of Old Chicago stood over a much grander ruin.\n\nA massive gilt-bronze statue of Alexander Webster once stood in the plaza and gazed across the whole city. Sunlight had made it shimmer with vitality. The Freedom Alliance blew it up to celebrate its victory. The head, torso and arms now lay separate. Chunks of the legs were scattered over a wide area. The gold-plated test tube that Webster once held aloft in triumph was blown a hundred yards away.\n\nDavidson walked around the wreckage, slightly dazed. Alexander Webster - and the statue - once towered over his life. He was taught from childhood that in 2060 a super-virus escaped from a Russian military laboratory and extinguished the world's population. Only a small pocket of humanity near Chicago survived after a brilliant biochemist called Alexander Webster inoculated its members with a vaccine he developed. He founded Webster City as an ark of humanity and established the Webster Dynasty which ruled for 300 years until the Freedom Alliance deposed it. During those years, Alexander Webster had almost divine status.\n\nHowever, Davidson recently discovered that almost everything he was taught about Alexander Webster was a lie. Webster was a genocidal preacher who released the super-virus that turned the Earth into a massive tomb. The only survivors were members of his church whom he had vaccinated. After founding Webster City and establishing the Webster Dynasty, he painted himself as the savior of humanity. He was, in fact, the greatest criminal in history, and the greatest liar.\n\nThat discovery devastated Davidson. His hero was evil incarnate and the city that Davidson had ferociously defended was built on a monstrous crime. Billions were murdered to give it life. That original sin could never be expunged.\n\nWhile wandering around the remnants of the smashed statue, he wondered why he came to see it. He realized that he was still angry with Alexander Webster and angry with Webster City. He had hoped that seeing the shattered statue would soothe his anger. It did not.\n\nCHAPTER TWO\n\nTwo weeks after the Freedom Alliance captured Webster City, Carl Davidson was living with Helen Watkins in her apartment in Sector 11. He liked her a lot, but refused to fall in love with her. They would probably both be dead soon. If she died first, he wanted to focus on survival, not mourning. He hoped she had the same attitude.\n\nShe left the apartment early that morning to buy food from a black-market vendor and took his original Rolex watch to pay for it.\n\nThe apartment still received some electricity, thank God, though the water stopped flowing a few days ago. Davidson carried a couple of empty buckets down to the sidewalk and filled them at a communal tap. He carried them back upstairs and washed in the bathroom. After putting on a skivvy and jeans, he sat at the kitchen table and ate porridge.\n\nA loud crack. Another. Christ. Someone was busting down the front door. His Glock sat on a table in the living room, a million miles away. Idiot. Had he just killed himself? Probably.\n\nHeavy boots clattered down the hallway. He considered grabbing a carving knife. Too late. Two bearded guys wearing red berets and camouflage uniforms - Alliance fighters - stepped through the doorway and pointed AK-47s at his chest.\n\nHe raised his hands and braced to be shot off his chair; he prayed for a clean kill and, to his surprise, thought about Helen.\n\nA fighter growled: \"Don't fuckin' move.\"\n\nStill on the chair and still alive, thank God. \"I won't. Stay cool.\"\n\nAlliance fighters flitted past the doorway to the living room. Loud smashing of furniture.\n\nA tall, handsome fighter with a colonel's lapels entered the kitchen holding the Glock. His own pistol clanked on his hip.\n\nHe waved the Glock in front of Davidson. \"Nice pistol. An original?\"\n\n\"Made in Austria more than 300 years ago.\"\n\n\"I'm impressed. It's well maintained. Let me introduce myself: I'm Colonel Eric Maxwell. I command Secretary Monroe's security detail.\"\n\nDavidson masked his surprise. Secretary Monroe was effectively the leader of the Alliance and famously secretive. Davidson had never seen him or heard him speak.\n\n\"How can I help?\"\n\n\"You are, I assume, Major Carl Davidson of the Internal Security Bureau.\"\n\n\"I was; I'm a civilian now.\"\n\nA frown. \"You're the man I want.\"\n\n\"You could have knocked.\"\n\nA faint snarl. \"I was told you were dangerous. Why take a chance? Where's your woman?\"\n\n\"What woman?\"\n\n\"The one who owns this apartment.\"\n\n\"She's dead. She died a couple of days ago.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you.\"\n\n\"Why? Lots of people are dying these days. You should know - you've killed many of them.\"\n\n\"Shut up. When's she coming back?\"\n\nA shrug. \"She isn't. But, if you don't believe me, wait around for her. It's your time. Why are you here?\"\n\n\"Secretary Monroe wants to see you.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"He did not say.\"\n\nDavidson wanted to get the Alliance fighters out of the house before Helen returned, and stood up. \"Alright, let's go.\"\n\n\"Turn around, first.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nMaxwell reached into his combat smock and pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs. \"I don't want you to run away. Then, I'll have to shoot you.\"\n\n\"Did Monroe tell you to cuff me?\"\n\n\"None of your business. Turn around.\"\n\nDavidson sighed and did as told. Maxwell snapped the handcuffs over his wrists. \"Now, move.\"\n\n\"OK. Look after my Glock. I want it back, later.\"\n\n\"I'll think about it,\" Maxwell said ominously. \"Get moving.\"\n\nDavidson followed two Alliance fighters through the shattered front door; the other three trailed behind.\n\nAs they descended the fire-escape, Maxwell shoved Davidson a couple of times. Why was he so angry? Did Davidson offend him somehow, in the past, without realizing it?\n\nA replica 1970s Cadillac was parked against the curb. A couple of Alliance fighters pushed Davidson onto the back seat and sandwiched him. Another fighter slipped behind the steering wheel and Maxwell sat beside him. The fifth fighter disappeared.\n\nAs the vehicle left the curb, Davidson said: \"Where is Monroe headquartered?\"\n\nMaxwell said: \"The Chancellor's Palace.\"\n\nChancellors drawn from the Webster family ruled Webster City for 300 years until the Alliance arrived. The Chancellor's Palace was their seat of power.\n\nDavidson said: \"You mean, he's the new Chancellor?\"\n\n\"Of course not. The Alliance intends to establish a democracy.\"\n\n\"Before or after we all die of starvation?\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\nDavidson ignored Maxwell and looked out the window at a shattered city. Two weeks ago, almost 7,000 Alliance fighters burst out of the Badlands to capture it. The City plunged into chaos. Fighters raped and pillaged; residents looted and settled scores. Almost 20,000 hardened criminals broke out of the main penitentiary and joined the mayhem.\n\nFood, electricity and water supplies were now scarce. The dog and cat populations had disappeared into cooking pots. Rumors of cannibalism were rife.\n\nThe Cadillac hummed along desolate streets. Traffic was sparse; rubbish rotted on sidewalks; beggars stood on corners; shabby pedestrians flitted between dispirited buildings. Several people lay on sidewalks, either dead or almost dead. The City itself had a terminal disease beyond any cure.\n\nFor most citizens, escape was impossible. Webster City was the only city on Earth. Alliance fighters could survive outside it. Most citizens could not. They were trapped in a dying city with winter approaching.\n\nThe Cadillac spun around the central plaza and slipped between the wrought-iron gates of the massive mock-Georgian Chancellor's Palace. It stopped under the main portico and Davidson was shoved out.\n\nMaxwell led Davidson and his fighters into a marble entrance hall where a dozen Alliance fighters stood guard. Maxwell told the captain in charge that he had an appointment to see Secretary Monroe.\n\n\"He's in the Chancellor's Office, Sir.\"\n\nMaxwell led his small band through several massive halls towards that office. The first hall was lined with Old Masters, which nobody had bothered to loot or deface. The world had millions of magnificent art objects that nobody appreciated.\n\nIn the next room, where portraits of dead Chancellors lined the walls, the quality of the art plunged dramatically. In real life, the Chancellors had bristled with fanaticism and menace. Instead, the men staring out of the ornate frames looked like prosperous undertakers. The artists could not even flatter.\n\nThe group entered a tiny elevator that rose a couple of floors. They debouched into a circular rococo hall with a massive chandelier. On the far side, was the closed red-leather door of the Chancellor's Office.\n\nDavidson had been in this hall before, with his boss, Colonel Prentice. Two weeks ago, the Chancellor, Joshua Webster, decided to emulate his ancestor, Alexander Webster, and release three canisters of the Agent Pandora super-virus in a last-ditch attempt to thwart the Freedom Alliance attack on the City. He would have killed all of humanity except for himself and a few loyalists he had inoculated.\n\nColonel Prentice and Davidson decided to turn traitor and stop him. They shot their way into the Chancellor's Office. Then, the Colonel shot dead the Chancellor and was in turn shot dead. Only Davidson survived. He and Helen then dashed across the City to the airport and seized the three canisters before the super-virus was released. A few hours later, the Freedom Alliance conquered the City and took control of the canisters.\n\nThe Alliance had a list of enemies to be summarily executed. Davidson, who had a lot of Alliance blood on his hands, was one of them. However, the military leader of the Alliance, Commander Solon, spared his life to reward him for preventing the super-virus being released.\n\nDavidson always feared that reprieve was temporary. That fear sharpened when the Central Committee of the Alliance arrived and sidelined Commander Solon. Secretary Monroe, the dominant figure on the Central Committee, effectively took control of the City and therefore Davidson's fate. Davidson was about to meet him for the first time.\n\nAn unshaven captain in combat fatigues sat on a stool outside the Chancellor's Office, whittling a stick. Shavings fluttered to the floor.\n\nMaxwell said: \"Is Secretary Monroe inside?\"\n\nA lazy stare. \"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Can I see him?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nMaxwell turned to his fighters. \"Wait here with Davidson. Watch him carefully.\" He pushed open the red-leather door and disappeared into the office.\n\nFive minutes later, Maxwell reappeared and looked at Davidson. \"Secretary Monroe wants to see you now. Follow me.\"\n\nDavidson stepped through the red-leather door into an office with an overcrowded decor. A massive oak desk sat in the middle. Mahogany bookshelves climbed every wall, except where a long window overlooked a courtyard. The bookshelves and desk were still pitted with bullet holes, but someone had sponged the human blood from the carpet. Davidson said a silent prayer for Colonel Prentice, that crazy-brave bastard.\n\nA man stood at the window, back to them, examining a Bonsai plant. Davidson felt a shiver of excitement. He was about to meet the legendary and reclusive Secretary Monroe.\n\nWhen Davidson was a Major in the Internal Security Bureau, he hoovered up every speck of information he could find about Monroe. Most were vague or contradictory. Nobody was even sure what Monroe looked like. He was rumored to have a badly disfigured face, though that was never confirmed. Even his background was uncertain. Some of Davidson's spies claimed he was a high-school English teacher in Webster City who fled to the Badlands after impregnating a student; others claimed he was born in the Badlands and orphaned when a City military unit killed his parents. He did not seem to have a first name and nobody knew if \"Monroe\" was his real surname.\n\nOne thing was certain: at some point, he developed a bitter hatred for the City and spent 25 years building the Freedom Alliance into a political and military force capable of destroying it.\n\nDavidson often tried to eliminate him. He sent three assassination teams into the New England area where Monroe was known to circulate. Two stumbled around without finding him; the third disappeared without a trace. He also paid several Alliance turncoats to kill him. None returned. They either went into hiding or were killed.\n\nThe man at the window turned around and Davidson finally gazed upon his nemesis. He saw a man in his mid-fifties, with thinning hair and a bony face. A huge burn mark started just under his right eye and traveled around the side of his neck. The rumors about his disfigurement were true.\n\nMaxwell said: \"Secretary Monroe, this is Carl Davidson.\"\n\nMonroe said: \"Thank you, Colonel. Did he cause any trouble?\"\n\n\"He didn't get a chance.\"\n\n\"Good.\" Monroe gazed at Davidson, daring him to stare at his defect, and spoke mildly. \"As you heard, I am Secretary Monroe. Thank you for coming to see me.\"\n\n\"I've wanted to meet you for a long time.\"\n\nA smile crowded onto the healthy side of his face. \"I'm sure you have. You've also wanted to kill me for a long time, haven't you?\"\n\nNo point denying that. \"Yes.\"\n\nA dry cackle. Monroe looked at Maxwell. \"Colonel, I won't need you any longer. Please leave us.\"\n\nThe Colonel stiffened. \"I think I should stay.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Davidson is very dangerous.\"\n\n\"He's also handcuffed. Wait outside. I'll push the buzzer if I need you.\"\n\nAnger oozed from his eyes. \"Yes, sir.\"\n\nMaxwell strode out and Davidson assessed whether he could kill Monroe while handcuffed. He'd have to bring Monroe down with a leg sweep and stomp on his windpipe before Maxwell returned and shot him dead. He gave himself a 75 percent chance of killing Monroe and a 100 percent chance being killed. He was not ready to commit suicide, yet.\n\nMonroe nodded towards the plant beside him. \"Chancellors have nurtured this Bonsai plant for almost two centuries. I feel obliged to keep it alive. It is also quite fascinating. It is too bad the Japanese disappeared, isn't it? Such an interesting race.\"\n\nMonroe had obviously slipped, very comfortably, into the shoes of the Chancellors. \"We have Alexander Webster to thank for their disappearance.\"\n\n\"We certainly do.\"\n\nMonroe limped across to his desk, wincing slightly, and sat within easy reach of the buzzer. The odds of Davidson killing him before Maxwell arrived plunged below 10 percent.\n\nMonroe sighed. \"That's better. My leg hurts when I stand for too long. The City is to blame for that.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"About ten years ago, one of your units raided a base near New York where I was spending the night. A rocket-propelled grenade came through a window and shredded my leg. I was stretchered away and the doctor could not repair all of the damage. Did you know how close you came to killing me?\"\n\n\"I had no idea.\"\n\n\"Hah. In fact, you came close several times. You bribed traitors to eliminate me, didn't you? We caught all of them. You know why?\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nAn effortless sneer. \"I can smell traitors; it is my sixth-sense.\"\n\nDavidson's mouth went dry. \"You executed them?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Are you sure they were traitors?\"\n\n\"They all confessed.\"\n\n\"Under torture?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"I don't believe in torture. It produces too much false information.\"\n\nA frown. \"Really? I found the traitors very believable. They confessed that you sent them. In fact, they told me a lot about you. I built up a mental picture of you and you became a part of my life. I sensed you probing for a weakness and waiting for a mistake. I hoped to meet you one day. I never thought it would be in this office. I assumed that I would be interrogating you or you would be interrogating me. Life is strange, isn't it?\" Monroe pointed to an armchair. \"Please, sit down.\"\n\nDavidson perched on the edge of the chair, hands cuffed behind his back.\n\nMonroe said: \"You were here, weren't you, when Colonel Prentice killed the last Chancellor?\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\nA deformed smile. \"I find it truly ironic that the only two people in this whole City who I truly feared changed sides at the end.\"\n\nDavidson shrugged. \"We had no choice. We couldn't let the Chancellor release the super-virus. He would have killed everyone except himself and a few supporters.\"\n\n\"He certainly would have destroyed the Alliance. So, I must thank you for what you did.\"\n\nThe Alliance had not publicly acknowledged that the last Chancellor tried to release a super-virus and was thwarted. It did not want a panic. It certainly had not revealed that Prentice and Davidson saved humanity. That would not fit into the Alliance's triumphant narrative.\n\nDavidson said: \"Does that mean you'll erect statues of the Colonel and me?\"\n\nA surprisingly jolly laugh. \"No. You deserve them. But I'm only offering you private thanks.\"\n\n\"Thank you, anyway.\"\n\nAn ominous tone. \"However, your late conversion to decency puts me in a quandary.\"\n\nDavidson's throat constricted. \"Why?\"\n\nInstead of answering directly, Monroe pointed at a large pile of manila folders on his desk. \"The Chancellors were despicable, but I do admire the meticulous way they kept files on everyone in this city. That must have required a huge effort, though I guess you can't run a police state without files, can you?\"\n\n\"Actually, I think you can. If the Chancellors had devoted those resources to fighting the Alliance, you might not be sitting where you are right now.\"\n\nA wry grin. \"Really? In any event, I've enjoyed reading the files, especially your personnel file. You killed a lot of Alliance fighters and spies; you were very good at your job.\"\n\nDavidson refused to apologize. \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"So, you can see my quandary. Before our assault on the City, I drew up a list of people to be rounded up and liquidated. Your name occupied a prominent place. You know that, don't you?\"\n\nDavidson swallowed a pebble. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then Commander Solon - without consulting the Central Committee, I should add - took you off that list, for services rendered. However, I'm not sure he made the right decision.\" A long pause. \"Maybe, I should put you back on it.\"\n\nDavidson visualized himself being hustled out of the office, pushed against a wall and shot. He shivered inside. However, if Monroe intended to order that, he would have done so already. Monroe wanted something. What?\n\nDavidson said: \"Can I help you in some way?\"\n\nA hooded smile. \"I like dealing with bright people. Yes, you can.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"I want you to find Isaiah Webster.\"\n\nThat request stunned Davidson. Isaiah Webster was the only son of the last Chancellor, Joshua Webster, and therefore his heir apparent. Davidson met him a few times at official functions. A wall-eyed man who wore uniforms spattered with medals he did not earn. He was a nasty and arrogant playboy. Most members of the Webster Dynasty had a huge sense of entitlement. He outdid them all.\n\nThe death of his father made him the last possible rallying point for the Webster Dynasty. The Alliance must have earmarked him for death. Davidson was surprised he had survived. \"He slipped through your net?\"\n\n\"Yes, he went to ground when we took the City. We think he's moving between safe houses with a squad of Palace Guardsmen.\"\n\nThe Palace Guard was an elite unit that protected Chancellors for almost two hundred years. Many Guardsmen were fanatically loyal to the Webster Dynasty. Davidson was not surprised to hear that some had clung to Isaiah Webster.\n\n\"Do you consider him a threat?\"\n\n\"I didn't yesterday; I do today.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"He has seized the canisters of Agent Pandora that you recovered and a large stock of the vaccine.\"\n\nThat revelation shook Davidson. When the Alliance took control of the super-virus, it promised to destroy it. \"How the hell did that happen?\"\n\n\"We stored the canisters at the Center for Disease Control while we decided how to destroy them. The best option was incineration. However, the Center did not have the right equipment. So, we decided to sink them to the bottom of Lake Michigan. However, before we could, Isaiah Webster stole them.\"\n\n\"How did he do that?\"\n\n\"Thirty Alliance fighters were guarding the Center last night. Most were asleep, I'm afraid, when about 50 heavily armed men attacked it. They killed most of our fighters and blew up the Center before escaping.\"\n\nDavidson heard explosions and ferocious shooting during the night. That sort of cacophony was so familiar, these days, that he ignored it. \"If the building was destroyed, how do you know someone stole the canisters?\"\n\n\"We searched the rubble and did not find them. They were obviously taken.\"\n\n\"You also think some vaccine was taken?\"\n\n\"Yes. The vaccine storage area was gutted, like the rest of the building. We can't do an inventory. But nobody would take the super-virus without the vaccine.\"\n\nThis was all bad news. Any group that stole the super-virus could, after inoculating its members, use it to destroy its enemies. The rest of humanity would also die, of course. But the group might not care.\n\n\"How do you know Isaiah Webster was behind this?\"\n\n\"The unit at the Center sent out a radio distress call. A relief column was sent out. Colonel Maxwell was in charge. It ran into some attackers trying to escape. One was wounded and captured. He confessed that he was a Palace Guardsman and Isaiah Webster led the attack.\"\n\n\"What has happened to the Guardsman?\"\n\n\"He, umm, died of his wounds.\"\n\nOr was shot in the back of the head. \"Do you think that Isaiah Webster will release the super-virus?\"\n\n\"Of course. He knows that, when we catch up with him, he won't last long. But, if he vaccinates his followers and releases it, he can wipe us out and retake control of the City. He will rule over a graveyard, of course. However, that beats the hell out of being in a graveyard. And don't forget that the Webster Dynasty has a track-record of releasing this super-virus. The first Chancellor, Alexander Webster, used it to kill most of humanity; his descendant, Joshua Webster, tried a similar trick and you stopped him. I'm sure that Isaiah Webster will want to carry on the family tradition.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"So, you want me to find Isaiah?\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Did the Guardsman you captured say where he's hiding?\"\n\n\"No. He said that Isaiah moves to a new location every night.\"\n\n\"Why do you want me to find him?\"\n\n\"Simple. Hunting for people in this city is your specialty. You have excellent informants and know the City better than anyone. If anyone can track him down, you can.\"\n\nThat was true. \"If I find him, what do you want me to do? Capture him?\"\n\nA stern look. \"No, just tell me his location. I'll arrange for him to be, umm, eliminated and the canisters recovered. Will you do this job?\"\n\nDavidson had no choice. The alternative was a bullet and oblivion. But he did not want to appear too eager. Monroe would distrust that. \"What's in it for me?\"\n\n\"If you find Webster, you'll have the satisfaction of saving humanity - which includes yourself, of course - from destruction. Indeed, you'll finish the job you started. I'll also take you off my death list, permanently. In fact, I'll give you employment. I need someone with your talent.\"\n\n\"What would I do?\"\n\nA smug smile. \"Fight the enemies of democracy, of course.\"\n\nDavidson suppressed a laugh. \"If you recover the canisters, what will you do with them?\"\n\n\"I'll send them to the bottom of Lake Michigan wrapped in concrete. Will you undertake this mission?\"\n\nDavidson distrusted Monroe and wondered if he was telling the truth. Was Isaiah Webster still alive? Did he steal the canisters of Agent Pandora? Or was Monroe sending him on a wild goose chase for some reason? Impossible to say. Only one thing was certain: if Davidson declined this mission, he would be shot out of hand. Still, he could not resist annoying the guy.\n\n\"Before I answer that, tell me this: what is the point?\"\n\nA fierce squint. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"This city is falling apart. We'll all be dead soon. If Isaiah Webster releases the super-virus, he'll be putting us out of our misery.\"\n\nThe facial burn-mark flared. \"Don't be so pessimistic. The Alliance expected some, umm, disruption when we captured the City. The old is being swept aside. A terrible beauty is being born. The situation will stabilize. We'll bring order and feed the population.\"\n\n\"When? How?\"\n\n\"None of your business. Will you find Isaiah Webster?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nA suspicious stare. \"Good. Report to me on your progress every second day at noon. Come and see me here, in this office.\"\n\n\"What if I need to contact you urgently?\"\n\nMonroe scrawled on a piece of paper and pushed it towards Davidson. \"That's the number of the phone on this desk. Call and I'll answer it.\"\n\nDavidson stood and, despite being handcuffed, clumsily slipped the piece of paper into his back pocket. \"Will do.\"\n\n\"Don't tell anyone about your mission. I have, of course, informed Colonel Maxwell and the Central Committee about it. I do not want anyone else to know. Few people know that the last Chancellor tried to release a super-virus when the Alliance attacked; even fewer that Isaiah Webster is still alive and has that super-virus. I want to keep it that way; I don't want a panic.\"\n\n\"Very wise. Now, will you take off these handcuffs?\"\n\n\"Colonel Maxwell attend to that when you've left the Palace.\"\n\nMonroe hit the buzzer on his desk. Maxwell and an Alliance fighter steamed into the office, ready to gun down Davidson if necessary. They frowned and lowered their weapons.\n\nMonroe looked at Maxwell. \"Davidson has agreed to undertake the mission I mentioned. Please escort him from the Palace.\"\n\nMaxwell snarled. \"Follow me.\"\n\nMonroe said to Davidson. \"Make sure you report back.\"\n\n\"I will.\"\n\nMaxwell led Davidson out of the office, past the captain whittling his stick, and across the marble hall towards the lift.\n\nA terrible beauty is being born.\n\nDavidson reflected that most people born in the Badlands spoke fractured English with a strange twang. Secretary Monroe was articulate and that phrase came from a Yeats poem. Monroe was rumored to be a former English teacher who fled the City after making a student pregnant. Maybe that was true.\nCHAPTER THREE\n\nColonel Maxwell led the handcuffed Davidson through the main portico of the Chancellor's Palace into the blinking sunshine. The treeless central plaza spread out before them. The shattered remains of the statue of Alexander Webster lay in the middle-distance.\n\nIt was once part of Webster City folklore that, if the City was ever threatened, the Webster statue would come to life and save it. Davidson had regarded himself as a rational man. Yet, he half-believed that. There was no chance of it happening now.\n\nMaxwell fished the Glock and a key out of separate pockets. \"Turn around.\"\n\nDavidson did as told and braced for a bullet in the back of the head. He shivered with delight when the handcuffs sprung open.\n\nMaxwell stepped back. \"You can go.\"\n\nDavidson turned around. \"Give me a lift back to my apartment.\"\n\nA snarl. \"You'll have to walk.\"\n\n\"It's five miles.\"\n\n\"You'll make it.\"\n\nDavidson extended his hand. \"Give me back my Glock.\"\n\nA smile. \"I think I keep it.\"\n\n\"That would be a big mistake.\"\n\nMaxwell pointed the Glock straight at Davidson's forehead. \"Really? I could settle that issue right now.\"\n\nDavidson fought to keep his voice steady. \"Secretary Monroe gave me an important mission. He'll be angry if you kill me.\"\n\nA smile. \"I'll say you attacked me.\"\n\n\"He'll still be angry.\"\n\nA shrug. \"He'll get over it. We have a good working relationship.\"\n\nDavidson backed out of the trouble he caused. \"Then keep it.\"\n\nMaxwell smiled and let his trigger-finger whitened, before lowering the Glock. \"I will.\"\n\nDavidson hid his fear and rubbed his wrists. \"Did I do something to upset you, in the past?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nA glare. \"You don't need to know, yet.\" He disappeared back into the Palace.\n\nDavidson glanced at the ruins of the statue. He inspected them a week ago and had no reason to revisit them. Instead, he headed across the desolate plaza towards Helen's apartment. His skivvy offered little protection against the ruthless wind.\n\nHe reflected on his meeting with Secretary Monroe. Was Isaiah Webster really alive? Did he steal the canisters of Agenda Pandora super-virus? Davidson suspected that Monroe had a hidden agenda, but had no idea what it might be.\n\nSomething else about the meeting made him uncomfortable. What? Half-way across the plaza, it struck him. Monroe obviously trusted no-one. He certainly did not trust Davidson. Yet he assigned Davidson an important mission with no guarantee Davidson would perform it and not betray him. Monroe would normally want some sort of leverage over Davidson to ensure he did as he was told. But Monroe had none.\n\nOr did he?\n\nThe only way Monroe could get leverage over Davidson was to obtain a hostage. The only available hostage was Helen.\n\nJesus. Davidson's heart butted his chest wall. He kept telling himself he did not love her and would not grieve if she disappeared. That was rubbish. He could not afford to lose her. She was all he had left. If she died, he would plunge into an abyss of loneliness.\n\nHe bet that, when Maxwell broke into the apartment that morning, he expected to find Helen there and planned to grab her. Fortunately, she left the apartment early that morning to do some black-market shopping. That obviously disrupted Monroe's plan.\n\nMonroe would have the apartment staked out right now. Helen said she would probably be away for a couple of hours. If Davidson hurried, he might reach the apartment before she returned. It was five miles away. He desperately needed transport. However, there were almost no vehicles on the roads.\n\nA canopied troop truck was parked on the far side of the plaza, in front of the marble-colonnaded Hall of Guardians. An Alliance fighter stood beside it, smoking, waiting for someone. Who? Davidson picked up a cigarette butt and strode towards him.\n\nHe was about 20 yards away when the fighter turned and spotted him. Davidson started ambling. The fighter was a fresh-faced kid with an AK-47 draped from his shoulder. He nervously unslung his rifle and pointed it at Davidson, who held up the cigarette butt. \"Hey, buddy, got a light?\"\n\nThe kid waved his rifle nervously. \"Don't move.\"\n\nMost people find it difficult to shoot an unarmed man trying to be friendly. Davidson kept smiling and kept talking. \"Come on, I only want a light. I'm desperate for a smoke. Surely, ...\"\n\nThe kid hesitated and lost the edge. All ISB officers were taught karate. Davidson won the ISB tournament most years. As soon as he could reach the rifle barrel, he brushed it aside, stepped close and kneed the kid in the groin. An elbow strike to the head put the kid on the ground, motionless, blood pouring from nose and mouth. The kid was probably alive. Davidson had no time to check.\n\nHe picked up the rifle, crouched over the body and felt around for the ignition key. Couldn't find it. Hell.\n\n\"Hey,\" someone yelled.\n\nHe looked up. Half-a-dozen Alliance fighters were bounding down the marble steps of the Hall of Guardians, all heavily armed. Oh, Christ.\n\nMaybe the key was in the ignition. If it wasn't, he would soon be a bullet-riddled carcass. He flung opened the driver's door and looked at the ignition. The key was there!\n\nHe tossed the rifle into the cabin, jumped behind the steering wheel and turned the key. The engine roared and a bullet slammed into the truck.\n\nHe stomped on the accelerator as bullets clattered into the chassis. The windscreen exploded. A couple of bullets smacked the metal dashboard. The truck roared and leaped forward. More bullets peppered it. He turned right into a wide boulevard and the Hall of Guardians shielded him from the shooters.\n\nThe boulevard was almost empty, except for scattered rubbish and abandoned vehicles. All traffic lights were dead. He barreled along, confident that nobody would try to stop an Alliance troop truck.\n\nFive miles later, he slowed as he approached the apartment. A big black Cadillac was parked against the curb, with someone behind the wheel. They obviously hadn't grabbed Helen yet. There were probably Alliance fighters inside, waiting for her.\n\nHe pulled up against the curb, thirty yards behind the Cadillac, and pondered his next move. Await developments or go inside and neutralize any fighters inside? After a minute, he decided to enter via the rear entrance.\n\nHe was about to climb out of the truck when two Alliance fighters emerged from the building, hefting AK-47s, with Helen sandwiched between them. She was not handcuffed. They hustled her across the sidewalk, shoved her onto the back seat of the Cadillac and sat on either side.\n\nDavidson considered following the Cadillac and picking the right moment to rescue her. But the Cadillac was much faster than the truck and might disappear. That prospect terrified him. Helen was an ex-cop and a survivor. If he gave her a chance to escape the vehicle, she probably would. But he had to give her that chance.\n\nHis truck was already rolling when the Cadillac pulled away from the curb. He stomped on the accelerator and rear-ended it. The truck merely shook, but the Cadillac spun around and slammed into an abandoned car.\n\nDavidson pulled the handbrake and jumped from the cabin, holding the rifle. The driver of the Cadillac climbed groggily from his vehicle. Davidson rifle-butted the side of his head and sent him toppling back inside.\n\nA fighter staggered from the far side of the vehicle, lurched to his right and tried to level his rifle at Davidson. Davidson shot him in the head and he went down.\n\nHe looked inside the Cadillac. Helen was wrestling with the third fighter for possession of his pistol. The fighter was obviously much stronger and would win that struggle. Davidson pushed his rifle through the open window and shot him through the neck. He arched back, spraying blood.\n\nAs Helen yelped and crawled out through the far door, Davidson glanced around and saw that the street was still deserted. The gunshots should keep it that way.\n\nHelen stumbled around towards him with blood on her face and corduroy jacket.\n\nChrist. Her blood? Concern for her almost choked him. \"You alright?\"\n\nGlazed eyes. \"What the hell is going on?\"\n\nHe raised his voice. \"Are you alright?\"\n\nShe snapped out of her funk and rubbed her body as if checking for bullet holes. \"Yes, yes, I'm OK.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n\"But what ...\"\n\nHe ignored her and checked the front of the truck. The heavy bull-bar was barely scratched. The truck would still roll.\n\nA few days ago, they packed suitcases with clothes and a few personal effects in case they had to leave in a hurry. That time had arrived.\n\nHe handed her his rifle. \"I'll tell you what's happening soon. Right now, I've got to get the suitcases. Wait here and shoot anything that breathes.\"\n\nHe rushed up the stairs and through the shattered front door of her apartment. The rucksack she used that morning lay in the hallway. He glanced inside and saw black-market food. He slung it over his shoulder.\n\nThe packed suitcases were in the wardrobe of the main bedroom. He pulled them out - God, they were heavy - and hefted them downstairs, where he threw them and the rucksack into the back of the truck. The whole operation took about two minutes.\n\nHelen stood with her back against a tree, rifle ready.\n\nBreathing hard, he nodded at the fighters he shot. \"Did you check them?\"\n\n\"Yep. One dead; one almost dead and the driver unconscious.\"\n\nHe picked up a dropped rifle. \"Is there anything valuable in the apartment you want to take? This is your last chance to get them. We're not coming back.\"\n\n\"Some jewelry - some photographs.\"\n\n\"Then get them. You've got five minutes, max.\"\n\n\"OK.\"\n\nShe scrambled into the building.\n\nDavidson got behind the wheel of the truck and waited for her, nervously scanning up and down the boulevard for a threat. Several citizens appeared in the far distance and studied the scene, not daring to come close.\n\nAfter only three minutes, Helen scuttled from the apartment building, half-dragging a bulky draw-string bag, and climbed onto the seat beside him, breathing hard. \"Done.\"\n\nHe put the truck in gear and sped off.\n\nShe said: \"Why the hell did they try to kidnap me?\"\n\n\"Secretary Monroe wanted you as a hostage.\"\n\n\"Me? Why?\"\n\n\"To make sure I did what I was told.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you everything when we get where we're going.\"\n\n\"Where's that?\"\n\n\"An ISB safe house in Sector 4.\"\n\n\"OK.\"\n\n\"On the way, I want to swing past your old place of work.\"\n\n\"The Center for Disease Control?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I've heard it's now a heap of rubble.\"\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\nIt was surprisingly easy to drive around the City. The Alliance set up check-points soon after it captured the City. They had disappeared and there was little traffic. The biggest danger was that a band of desperate civilians would ambush their vehicle. However, nobody wanted to tangle with an Alliance troop truck.\n\nHe drove along Pasteur Boulevard for three miles and discovered that Secretary Monroe told the truth about the state of the Center for Disease Control. The three-story building was now one story of charred and twisted wreckage. Black smoke writhed into the air. Someone took great care to ensure total destruction. Explosives and accelerants were obviously used. The scene gave some credence to Monroe's story that Isaiah Webster stole the Agent Pandora super-virus and some vaccine, though not much. Davidson doubted that Isaiah could cause this much destruction during a hit-and-run raid.\n\nHelen stared at her former place of employment. \"My God. What happened? Who did this?\"\n\n\"Let's get to the safe house and I'll tell you the small amount that I know.\"\nCHAPTER FOUR\n\nWhen Davidson was a Major in the Internal Security Bureau, he used several safe houses dotted around Webster City to meet informants who did not want to parade in and out of ISB headquarters. One was in Sector 4, a commercial zone filled with warehouses, repair shops, wholesale suppliers and small factories. Most of the City's gambling dens and brothels were also tucked away inside it. The City elite loved preaching against vice while rubbing up against it.\n\nAfter the fall of the City, Alliance fighters flooded into the sector and looted almost everything they could load onto the back of a truck. Machinery and consumer goods were especially prized. For the sheer joy of wanton destruction, they also smashed or torched almost everything else and clogged the streets with debris. The zone was now a ghost-town.\n\nThe safe house was a ramshackle apartment perched awkwardly above a bicycle repair shop. Davidson drove past the front of the shop. The shutters were down and it appeared undamaged, thank God. He swung around the block and entered the rear lane. After squeezing past a couple of burnt-out vehicles, he stopped beside a large garage door which he unlocked and raised.\n\nHe drove inside and closed the door behind him. Then, he and Helen climbed into the back of the canopied truck and assessed its contents. There was plenty of food, ammunition and clothing, and even several cans of gas.\n\nThey unloaded their suitcases and carried them up an internal staircase to the apartment above. It only had one bedroom, a living room, a kitchenette and a tiny bathroom. Dust-covered rickety furniture. The cathode-ray television would not be needed again.\n\nThey parked the suitcases in the bedroom and returned to the living room.\n\nHe said: \"No palace.\"\n\n\"I'm not complaining.\" She entered the kitchenette and turned on the taps. \"Water, thank God. A miracle.\" She flicked a light switch. Nothing. \"But no light. We should have brought some lamps.\"\n\n\"We'll find some tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Are there any sheets?\"\n\n\"Don't know. That was not my responsibility.\"\n\n\"You were too high and mighty to worry about linen?\"\n\nHe smiled. \"Definitely.\"\n\nShe sat on a creaky couch. \"Thanks for saving my ass back there. Things looked pretty hairy.\"\n\n\"You would have done the same for me.\"\n\nShe smiled. \"True, though not as well.\"\n\n\"Did they say why they wanted you?\"\n\n\"No. They just said they were taking me to the Maximum Security Unit.\"\n\n\"You mean, the one attached to Webster Penitentiary?\"\n\n\"I assume so. You said that Secretary Monroe wanted me as a hostage. Why?\"\n\n\"To make sure I perform a mission he gave me this morning.\"\n\n\"What mission?\"\n\n\"To find Isaiah Webster.\"\n\nShe whistled. \"Wow. He's still alive.\"\n\n\"That's what Monroe claims.\"\n\n\"So, you spoke to Monroe this morning?\"\n\n\"Yes. After you left the apartment, some goons turned up and carted me off to see him at the Palace.\"\n\n\"That's his base?\"\n\n\"Yes. I think he wants to become the new Chancellor.\"\n\n\"The Alliance claims it wants freedom and democracy.\"\n\nA grin. \"Some might. But Monroe struck me as a creepy megalomaniac. He's spent decades fighting for power. He earned it; he's entitled to it; he won't give it up easily.\"\n\n\"Did you explain that he'll soon be ruling over a graveyard?\"\n\n\"I mentioned that. It didn't seem to register. He's obviously eating well and sleeping on clean sheets. So are his supporters. He doesn't think there's a big problem.\"\n\n\"Christ, he should just look out the window.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"So, he asked you to track down Isaiah Webster?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I'm amazed he's still alive.\"\n\n\"So am I. But Monroe claims he's cruising around the City with a rag-tag bunch of Palace Guardsmen.\"\n\n\"Do you believe him?\"\n\n\"I have zero faith in Monroe. However, it is quite possible that Isaiah is still on the loose and hopes to restore the fortunes of his family.\"\n\n\"He can't do that, can he?\"\n\n\"I would normally say you're right. However, Monroe claims that Isaiah attacked the Center for Disease Control last night and seized the three canisters of Agent Pandora stored there.\"\n\nHer mouth dropped open. \"My God.\"\n\n\"He also claims Isaiah stole enough vaccine to inoculate himself and his supporters.\"\n\n\"Do you believe Monroe?\"\n\n\"No. All I know is that the Agent Pandora super-virus and a stock of vaccine were at the Center, which is now a smoking ruin. The rest is a big mystery. I don't know what game Monroe is playing.\"\n\n\"Maybe he's got it and has sent you off on a wild goose chase for some reason.\"\n\n\"That occurred to me.\"\n\n\"And what did you decide?\"\n\n\"I decided to wait and see what I found out.\"\n\nShe sighed. \"Maybe we should leave this City and try our luck outside it. We could find out what happened to your brother.\"\n\nDavidson's only sibling, Ted, disappeared fifteen years ago while taking part in an Air Cavalry raid in Kansas. His commander reported him dead, though nobody saw him die or found his body. Davidson's rational side said Ted must be dead. But Ted had yearned to escape the City. So, Davidson sometimes fantasized that Ted deserted and was still alive.\n\nHe had toyed with the idea of heading for Kansas to investigate what happened, but now shook his head. \"No point. We probably wouldn't make it and, if someone stole the Agent Pandora and plans to release it, we won't be safe there or anywhere else.\"\n\n\"You mean, you want to recover it?\"\n\n\"If I can.\"\n\nShe smiled. \"You don't give up, do you?\"\n\n\"Someone has to get it back.\"\n\n\"Why you?\"\n\nA shrug. \"I've got plenty of time on my hands.\"\n\n\"Don't we all. What's your plan?\"\n\n\"My only plan is to have another chat with Commander Solon. Maybe he knows what's going on.\"\n\nSolon, the military commander of the Alliance, spared Davidson after the fall of the City. He was now locked in a power struggle with Monroe.\n\nHelen said: \"When will you do that?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow morning.\"\n\n\"Can you trust him?\"\n\n\"I think so. I have no choice. I need information and at least one strong ally.\"\n\nHelen hunted around and found some clean linen and thick blankets, which she put on the bed. That evening, they lay together, holding hands and hoarding their thoughts. A lamp flickered on the bedside table. Cold air whistled through cracks in the walls.\n\nHe had promised himself that he would not fall in love with her and risk having to grieve when she died. However, Monroe's attempt to take her hostage had proved he was fooling himself. Her life was far more important than his own. He wanted to die first and not suffer a meaningless life without her.\n\nHe wondered if the glue that stuck them together was shared danger. Would he find her so attractive if the world was safe and sane? He sensed he would. He loved her strength of character and unaffected manner, and solid laugh. She didn't act like a woman - she was one. It would be lovely to share with her a time of peace and quiet.\n\nHe wondered if she felt the same about him. She had not spoken about her feelings. But, in the middle of the night, she rolled over and held him so tight that he lost circulation in his arm.\n\nCHAPTER FIVE\n\nSoon after he established Webster City, Alexander Webster founded the New World Church of Christ and ordered the execution of anyone who belonged to another religious group. The new Church espoused traditional Christian dogma, and a belief that God specially chose Alexander Webster to save mankind and found the City as an ark of humanity.\n\nWebster City's public buildings were pompous replicas of historical landmarks erected before the Great Plague. The headquarters of the New World Church was a mock-Gothic cathedral facing onto the central plaza. During the reign of the Webster Dynasty, each of its three Sunday services had 8,000 worshippers. Now, it was a drafty hall where homeless people used the pews as firewood.\n\nThe incumbent Chancellor was always the spiritual head of the Church. However, the Bishop of Webster City administered the Church and presided over the Cathedral. He lived in an ersatz Second Empire mansion tucked behind it. The last Bishop knew that the Alliance had earmarked him for death. He often told his flock that death was just the beginning of a journey which ended at the feet of a loving God. However, instead of embarking on that journey, he went into hiding with his housekeeper-mistress and several hundred bottles of fine wine.\n\nCommander Solon soon established his headquarters inside the Bishop's mansion. The next morning, Davidson parked the stolen Alliance truck a couple of blocks from the mansion and approached it on foot. He wore an Alliance combat smock and had a Ruger 9mm pistol tucked in a pocket.\n\nIt amused Davidson that the only person in the City whom he trusted, besides Helen, was once his sworn enemy and someone he still hardly knew. He did not even know if \"Solon\" was his real name. But he did know that Solon spared his life for no reason except decency. Most military leaders would not have bothered. Solon did. That was basically all Davidson needed to know about him. However, he also felt a kinship. They had spent most of their lives fighting the war that had just ended. They had, to their surprise, emerged alive and now faced cold and uncertain futures; they had to reinvent themselves and knew not how.\n\nA wrought-iron arch stood at the entrance of the Cathedral grounds. Davidson walked under it and up a curved road towards the Bishop's mansion. On his right, a large cemetery looked like it had oozed out of the Cathedral and down a gentle slope. A sandbag emplacement with a heavy machine-gun sat in front of the mansion; a sergeant and private, wearing the distinctive blue caps of Solon's personal bodyguards, stood inside it. Davidson had previously met Sergeant McCool, a bulky guy from Tennessee.\n\nMcCool stepped forward, his right hand hanging near a holstered pistol. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\"To see Commander Solon.\"\n\n\"You got an appointment?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"You armed?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nAn uncertain nod. \"Alright. Walk over to the two guards at the entrance of the mansion and tell them your business. I'll be covering you from here.\"\n\nThe Sergeant stepped back into the emplacement and Davidson crunched across gravel to a canopied entrance, keen not to frighten the sergeant.\n\nThe two blue-capped fighters at the entrance casually unslung AK-47s and pointed them at his chest.\n\n\"Morning, gentlemen. My name is Carl Davidson. I'm here to see Commander Solon.\"\n\nThe taller one yelled over his shoulder. \"Captain, a visitor.\"\n\nA few seconds later, the head of the bodyguard detail, Captain Owen Larkin, emerged from the building, crossed the porch and descended several marble steps. Larkin was a tall towhead from Missouri who Davidson had met several times.\n\nLarkin said: \"Hello Carl, here to see the Commander?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Armed?\"\n\n\"Definitely.\"\n\nLarkin hesitated. \"Then don't shoot anyone. Follow me.\"\n\nDavidson followed Larkin along several dingy corridors with pressed-tin floral wall panels and stopped outside the main study. \"He's in there.\"\n\nDavidson stepped into a large room overcrowded with heavy Victorian furniture. Small lead-lined windows accentuated the gloom. Solon sat behind a massive mahogany desk, writing on a pad. He had left a large painting of Alexander Webster hanging on the wall behind him, which showed he had a sense of humor.\n\nAlexander Webster was a white supremacist who only inoculated his white followers before releasing the Agent Pandora super-virus. However, a tiny number of unvaxxed humans with resilient immune systems survived the Great Plague. Some were black. Solon descended from them and was the first black person Davidson had ever met.\n\nHe was also a brilliant soldier who spent 20 years patching together the fractious army of 7,000 that conquered the only city on Earth. However, for him, the moment of victory was the beginning of defeat. His army, always a loose coalition of factions, started to dissolve. Many of his most loyal and disciplined brigades returned home. The worst hung around to rape and pillage. Solon had numerous offenders executed, but that just created resentment.\n\nSoon after the fall of the City, he admitted to Davidson that he never imagined that victory would create so many problems. \"I didn't realize that cities and armies don't mix. Victory turned most of my army into a criminal gang.\"\n\nThe other blow to his authority was the arrival of Secretary Monroe in the City. Monroe was a ruthless and ambitious politician who had spent years manipulating the factional leaders of the Alliance. Apart from commanding a bodyguard of 600 fighters, he also controlled the food and other essential supplies that sustained the Alliance troops in the City. To consolidate his position, he had created an enclave of about 60,000 supporters in the southern part of the City. Meanwhile, the rest of the City was allowed to wither away.\n\nTwo weeks ago, Solon looked triumphant when his victorious fighters flooded onto the central plaza and blew up the statue of Alexander Webster. Now, sitting behind his desk, he looked gray and tired. A weak smile. \"Hello, Carl, why are you here?\"\n\n\"I want to tell you about my chat with Secretary Monroe, yesterday morning, at the Palace.\"\n\nGenuine surprise. \"You went to see him?\"\n\n\"No, some goons took me to see him.\"\n\n\"Who was in charge?\"\n\n\"A guy called 'Colonel Maxwell'.\"\n\n\"That makes sense. He runs Monroe's security detail and does most of his dirty work. Why did Monroe want to see you?\"\n\n\"He wanted me to find Isaiah Webster.\"\n\nSolon's eyes widened further. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes. Did you know he was still alive?\"\n\n\"I've assumed that he was. I've seen no evidence that he's dead. He obviously went to ground after we captured the City.\"\n\n\"Did you try to find him?\"\n\n\"There was no point. He was not a threat. I decided to wait until he resurfaced and deal with him them. Why does Monroe want you to find him?\"\n\n\"Monroe thinks he is a threat - a big one.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Monroe claims that, the night before last, Webster and some former Palace Guardsmen attacked the Center for Disease Control; they stole the three canisters of Agent Pandora stored there, and the vaccine against it.\"\n\nSolon rocked back in his chair. \"Well, well, well ...\"\n\n\"Is that true?\"\n\n\"All I know is that, two nights ago, a heavily armed group attacked the Center and wiped out the guards on duty. A couple of my officers heard about the attack and went to investigate. They found Maxwell and a relief column already there. Maxwell claimed the attackers stole the canisters of Agent Pandora and disappeared. He didn't mention Isaiah Webster. Are you saying Secretary Monroe now blames Webster?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"On what basis?\"\n\n\"Monroe claims that Maxwell captured an attacker, who spilled the beans about Webster.\"\n\nRaised eyebrows. \"Maxwell said nothing about that to my officers.\"\n\n\"Maybe Monroe lied to me about the involvement of Isaiah Webster – Webster had nothing to do with the attack.\"\n\n\"Then who did?\"\n\n\"Maybe it was an inside job.\"\n\nRaised eyebrows. \"Monroe?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why would he order it?\"\n\n\"The ruthless bastard wants to use the Agent Pandora against his enemies.\"\n\n\"Maybe. But why blame Isaiah Webster, and then ask you to find him?\"\n\nA shrug. \"To throw dust in everyone's eyes?\"\n\nA nod. \"That's possible, I suppose. You know, during the struggle, I had little to do with him, or the Central Committee for that matter. But I thought he wanted freedom and democracy. I don't anymore. Since the fall of the City, he's done everything he can to concentrated power in his hands. I should have expected that I suppose.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"How much do you know about him?\"\n\n\"I've heard a few rumors.\"\n\n\"Have you heard that he was originally an English teacher in Webster City who fled to the Badlands after making a student pregnant?\"\n\n\"Yes, I've heard that one. Are you saying it's true?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's definitely true.\"\n\n\"How do you know?\"\n\n\"I've had two impeccable sources confirm it - people I'd trust with my life.\"\n\n\"OK. But, so what? Are you saying you shouldn't have trusted him because he slept with a student?\"\n\n\"No, I'm saying that people who fled into the Badlands are different from people born out there. People who recently left this city were brought up to believe in authority, and regard Outlaws as unclean and backward. You often call Outlaws as 'the Unvaxxed', don't you?\"\n\n\"You think Monroe still has those attitudes?\"\n\n\"I'm sure he does. In a way, he never really escaped this City. He carried its poisonous ideas with him when he left. He's never wanted freedom and democracy; he just wants revenge, and yearns for power and control. That's all he understands. Most of his supporters think the same way. They're first- or second-generation Outlaws who never really escaped either.\"\n\n\"That is why you must stop him, before he has complete control. In fact, you've got no choice. He knows you're the biggest threat to him and he has to destroy you. Don't wait for him to attack. Strike first.\"\n\nA frown. \"With what? My best fighters have gone home and the rest are a rabble. I only trust the Muslim Brigade and it wants to go back to Florida.\"\n\n\"Then assassinate him.\"\n\nA wry grin. \"How? He sits inside the Palace with guards all around him. It's impossible to get close.\"\n\n\"There's a secret passage into the building. I could sneak in there and kill him.\"\n\nA smile. \"You're very proactive, aren't you? I'm afraid that won't work: he heard about that passage and bricked it up.\"\n\n\"Then assassinate him some other way. He will come for you soon. You must seize the initiative.\"\n\n\"You're probably right. But I don't want to strike the first blow.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\nA pained expression. \"I'll destroy the Alliance and become everything I fought against.\"\n\nDavidson sighed internally. Solon was a great soldier. But his refusal to dirty his hands and eliminate Monroe was a major failing. His judgment seemed clouded. Maybe, after twenty years of constant fighting, he had post-traumatic stress disorder. Or maybe the collapse of his army left him depressed. Whatever the cause of his torpor, if he did not shake it off soon, Monroe would kill him.\n\nDavidson sighed. \"You're being very foolish. Monroe has already destroyed the Alliance. You just refuse to accept that. One of you will die very soon. Make sure it's him.\"\n\n\"I hear what you're saying; I'll give it some thought.\" A rueful smile. \"You know, my life was much simpler when you were my enemy. I wish we could go back to those days. Let me worry about Monroe. What's your next move?\"\n\n\"I'm going to find the missing canisters of Agent Pandora, of course.\"\n\n\"Really? That's not your job.\"\n\n\"Then who's is it? If I don't recover them, some idiot will probably try to wipe out mankind, again.\"\n\nA shrug. \"So what? I think we're doomed. You can only postpone the inevitable.\"\n\nDavidson felt a similar pessimism and wondered why he was so determined to recover the missing canisters. He sensed he needed a goal that helped him travel through the craziness and chaos around him; he also had a lot of blood on his hands from his time as a major in the ISB, and wanted to wash it off. He smiled. \"I'm sure your right. But I like to stay busy.\"\n\n\"Where will you start looking?\"\n\n\"I wish I knew.\"\n\nA shrug. \"Well, if you need help, let me know.\"\n\n\"I will.\" Solon had a stash of coffee beans from California that tasted wonderful. \"Before I go, I'd love a cup of coffee.\"\n\nA smile. \"Of course. Take a seat. I'll get someone to make us both a cup.\"\n\nSolon rose, left the room for a minute and returned. \"The coffee will be here soon.\" He sat down, looking a touch suspicious. \"Out of curiosity, why did Monroe ask you to find Isaiah Webster? He has lots of loyalists he could ask.\"\n\n\"He said I know this city like the back of my hand, which is true.\"\n\n\"That makes sense. But why did he trust you to do the job? He's not a trusting guy and you are, quite frankly, not a trustworthy one.\"\n\nA smile. \"Oh, he didn't trust me. He tried to kidnap my partner, Helen, to use her as a hostage.\"\n\nSolon looked satisfied. \"Ah, that explains it. What happened?\"\n\nDavidson described how he saw through Monroe's plot to seize Helen and rescued her.\n\nSolon said: \"Nobody told me some Alliance fighters were killed in that sector yesterday morning.\"\n\n\"Monroe is obviously shy about what happened.\"\n\n\"I'm not surprised. He'll kill you if he gets a chance.\"\n\n\"He'll try; it won't be easy.\"\n\n\"Hah. Where's that coffee?\" As Solon turned to look at the open doorway, loud gunfire erupted outside. Bullets clattered against the outside. More weapons joined the raucous party.\n\nDavidson quickly regained his composure and wondered if the attackers were City troops trying to regain control. But most City troops used a replica of the M14 Garand carbine. Davidson could only hear the bark of AK-47s, which Alliance fighters used, and the primal throb of Sergeant McCool's heavy machine gun. The attackers must be Alliance fighters.\n\nSolon grasped the same point. \"All AK-47s.\"\n\n\"Sounds like Monroe has seized the initiative.\"\n\nSolon looked calmer than he did a minute ago. \"You're right.\" He strode over to his AK-47, standing in the corner, and picked it up. \"Let's go.\"\n\nHe strode down the hallway and Davidson followed, brandishing his pistol. They stepped out onto the porch. Captain Larkin and the two guards were shooting around a corner towards the cemetery. Sergeant McCool in the sandbag emplacement was plastering the cemetery with the .50 caliber rounds. A bloodied corpse lay beside him.\n\nRed-bereted figures were scampered towards the mansion, using the tombstones and monuments as cover. Their bullets kicked chunks off the walls of the mansion.\n\nSolon crouched beside Larkin. \"How did this start?\"\n\n\"A couple of sentries at the main gate challenged them and got shot down. Those guys are Alliance fighters - our people. Why are they attacking us?\"\n\n\"Monroe wants me dead. How many men do we have?\"\n\n\"Just us and a couple of sentries behind the mansion. I've heard gunfire back there. We can't hold them off.\"\n\nAn armored personnel carrier crashed through the main gate of the cemetery, two hundred yards away, and halted. The turret rotated and the light-cannon spat 30-mm shells at the sandbag emplacement. Sergeant McCool ducked, but the shells penetrated the bags and he collapsed in a spray of blood.\n\nSolon said: \"Jesus.\"\n\nDavidson heard heavy feet in the hallway behind them. A couple of blue-capped bodyguards arrived, looking flushed.\n\nSolon said: \"Where were you?\"\n\nA breathless corporal spoke. \"Sentry duty behind the mansion, Sir. We spotted a dozen fighters approaching through the trees. We yelled for them to stop and they started shooting. We shot back. Too many for us, I'm afraid. Sorry, Sir.\"\n\n\"Not your fault.\"\n\nSomeone in the cemetery used a bull-horn to yell above the gunfire. \"Commander Solon, we act on behalf of the Central Committee. Surrender and you will not \\- I repeat, not \\- be harmed. The Central Committee guarantees that. You have two minutes - I repeat, two minutes - to surrender.\"\n\nThe gunfire slackened and an eerie calm enveloped the scene.\n\nSolon glanced at Davidson. \"We're stuck. Maybe I should surrender.\"\n\n\"They'll kill you stone dead.\"\n\n\"They might spare my men.\"\n\nThat was unlikely. They would certainly not spare Davidson. \"I don't intend to surrender, whatever you do.\"\n\nThe corporal who had just arrived said. \"I'm not surrendering, Sir. I'll take my chances.\"\n\nSolon looked pleased. \"Thank you, Corporal. This will not end well.\"\n\n\"I understand that, Sir.\"\n\nThe other bodyguards muttered that they would not be surrendering either.\n\nSolon looked touched. \"Thank you, men.\"\n\nA plan hatched in Davidson's mind. \"There is an escape route.\"\n\nSolon said: \"Where?\"\n\n\"From the cathedral.\"\n\n\"It's a dead end.\"\n\nDavidson had no time to provide details. \"It's not. You'll have to trust me. I'm going across to it. Will you follow me?\"\n\nThe bodyguards looked inquiringly at Solon, who nodded. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Good. Stay close. I'm going to start running on 'three'. Ready? One ... two ... three.\"\n\nThe cathedral was 20 yards away. Davidson dashed across the gap with the others on his heels. He was almost half-way across before the attackers resumed firing. A second later, he threw himself behind a flying buttress with bullets flying all around him. Solon and his five bodyguards were less than a stride behind him. Within inches of safety, a private took a bullet in the head and his corpse landed behind the flying buttress.\n\nA gasping Captain Larkin crawled over and examined the bloody crater in the side of his skull. \"Shit. Dead, I'm afraid.\"\n\nThey were cocooned for the moment - just the moment - from the bullets spattering the walls around them. Solon muttered: \"Monroe will pay for this.\"\n\nCanon shells thudded into the flying buttress and showered them with stone and dust. Even the building seemed to be attacking them.\n\nDavidson yelled: \"We've got to get out of here. Follow me.\"\n\nHe crab-walked along the cathedral wall to a heavy oak door and pushed the handle. The door swung open and he led the others inside.\n\nLight spilled through the doorway and revealed a large room filled with vestments on racks, religious ornaments and big mahogany cabinets. The sacristy. Davidson flicked a light switch. No light. Damn. \"Anyone got a light?\"\n\nLarkin dug into his combat smock and produced a small flashlight which he handed to Davidson.\n\n\"Thanks.\" Davidson closed the door and slammed a big metal bolt in place. \"This way.\"\n\nHe used the flashlight to lead them through the sacristy into the main hall, a vast space with a vaulted ceiling and long central aisle. Here, for generations, Chancellors had sermonized about the glorious deeds of Alexander Webster and the divine mission of the City to preserve mankind.\n\nHigh above the canopied marble altar, a beam of sunlight hit a writhing Christ on a huge cross. Elsewhere, fragile daylight barely penetrated stain-glass windows and disappeared into gloomy walls.\n\nHeavy gunfire said the Alliance fighters were trying to blast their way into the sacristy. Davidson led his team past the altar and through a side door. He used the flashlight to descend a spiral staircase to a long burial vault with wall graves on both sides.\n\nEvery Chancellor of the Webster Dynasty was buried in the monolithic Webster Mausoleum on the other side of the central plaza, except for the last Chancellor, Joshua Webster, whom the Alliance dumped in a common grave with the couple of hundred troops who did not surrender fast enough. The crypt beneath the Cathedral was reserved for the wives of Chancellors and cadet members of the Webster Dynasty.\n\nSolon looked calmer and happier than ten minutes ago. Combat obviously relaxed him. \"I hope there's a way out.\"\n\n\"There is. The Chancellors loved secret passages. This city is honeycombed with them. One runs from this vault to the basement of an administration building about three hundred yards away. Chancellors liked to enter and leave the cathedral without being seen. That was safer and increased their mystique.\"\n\n\"Where is it?\"\n\nDavidson strode along the left-hand wall until he reached the last tomb niche. The plaque said it was the final resting place of \"Tobias Webster\", who died a hundred years ago. He never, in fact, lived. Davidson grabbed both sides of the plaque and pulled it towards him. A six-foot-high slab of the wall, sitting on rollers, slid out.\n\nHe glanced at Solon. \"Anything more I can do for you today?\"\n\nA laugh. \"That's plenty.\"\n\nClattering feet and shouting on the floor above. The Alliance attackers would soon search the crypt.\n\n\"Follow me.\" Davidson ducked behind the slab into a small room at the head of a tunnel. He flicked a light switch. No power. Damn. Several backup flashlights were attached to a wall. He handed them out and pulled the wall slab back into place.\n\nSolon turned on his flashlight. \"I'm impressed. Lead the way.\"\n\nDavidson headed down an oval-shaped tunnel, about seven-feet high and five-feet wide, lined with blue tiles. It went slightly downhill and then uphill. After three hundred yards, he reached a solid metal door. He pushed it open and found himself in a basement boiler room.\n\nThe others crowded into the room and Solon said: \"Thank you. I didn't deserve to survive that. My men did. I didn't.\"\n\nDavidson silently agreed. He crossed the room and stepped through a door into a narrow corridor that led to a fire escape. The group climbed two flights of stairs to a gloomy linoleum-floored entrance hall. Glass doors overlooked a large car park dotted with abandoned vehicles.\n\nDavidson looked at Solon. \"They'll soon work out we slipped the net and search the surrounding area. What are you going to do, now?\"\n\nSolon had his old poise. \"I'm going to deal with Monroe - decisively.\"\n\n\"Good. You got a plan?\"\n\n\"Not yet. First, I've got to round up what's left of my bodyguard. Then, I'll try to make contact with the Muslim Brigade. It's camped on the western side of the City.\"\n\n\"You trust them?\"\n\n\"Yes, they hate Monroe and I know its commander well - a guy called Abdul Qadir.\"\n\n\"You trust him?\"\n\n\"Yes. He may not help me, but he won't betray me, I don't think.\"\n\n\"Then good luck.\"\n\n\"Come with me.\"\n\n\"I can't. I've got a woman to look after and a job to do.\"\n\n\"You mean, find the canisters?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well, if you need me, you know where I'll be if you need me.\" He turned to his little band. \"Alright guys, let's go.\"\n\nSolon and his men pushed through the glass doors and threaded their way through the car park towards a small patch of trees on the far side.\n\nCHAPTER SIX\n\nDavidson cautiously circled around to the stolen Alliance truck parked in a side street. He spent 20 minutes watching it and the surrounding area, alert for anyone waiting in ambush, before scurrying forward and getting inside.\n\nHe headed towards the safe house in Sector 4 where Helen was waiting. The once-bustling commercial sector was still ghostly quiet. Almost everything that could be stolen or smashed had been. Smoke curled out of derelict buildings and snaked along the streets. Rotting garbage assaulted his nostrils.\n\nHe was tempted to drive straight to the garage behind the safe house. However, he learned in the Internal Security Bureau to be careful when returning to a base in hostile territory. The chance of being ambushed was always high. Death waited for the careless. Always had, always would. So, he parked in a side street, two blocks from the safe house, and climbed out with his AK-47. He slithered between buildings until fifty yards from the front entrance of the bicycle shop below the safe house.\n\nA large warehouse stood across the road from it. He circled around and entered the warehouse through a rear door. He passed through a small office and found himself in a huge storage area with only a few punctured sacks of grain. Looters must have cleaned out the rest.\n\nHe edged up a metal spiral staircase to the second floor, nerves singing, rifle ready. That floor had a large office with rickety desks and gun-metal filing cabinets. Drawers were open. Folders and documents were strewn across the floor. No signs of life.\n\nHe strode over to a long window overlooking the street and spent ten minutes scoping for activity. He was about to quit when something moved in the upper window of the fourth building to the right of the bicycle shop. He focused on it and stayed patient. Five minutes later, a shadow flitted behind it. Jesus. Someone either still lived in the building or was waiting to ambush him. If the safehouse was blown, Helen might be dead already. His throat tightened. Bile dabbed his tongue.\n\nHis training told him to be patient and look for other ambushers. But he had to find out if Helen was alive. His only fear was that she was dead. He went downstairs and circled around to the alley behind the building where he saw movement. After sliding carefully along it, he found himself behind an auto repair shop with raised metal shutters. Half-repaired vehicles that would never drive again lined the walls.\n\nHe edged past two vehicle hoists to a wooden staircase that he slowly climbed, treading carefully on the outside of each step. Near the top, he stopped and cautiously raised his head. Another office with cheap desks and filing cabinets. This time, though, an Alliance fighter stood peering out of the window, smoking, a rifle slung over his shoulder. His behavior was so slovenly that Davidson suspected a trap. No, the guy was just slovenly.\n\nDavidson edged forward, rifle at high ready. He creaked a floorboard and the fighter spun around.\n\n\"Don't fucking move,\" Davidson growled.\n\nThe fighter started to unsling his rifle and frozen. \"OK, OK.\"\n\nDavidson stuck the muzzle of his rifle into the fighter's belly and ripped the rifle off the guy's shoulder. He took a step back and tossed it onto a desk. \"On your knees, now.\"\n\nThe fighter complied with a pleading expression. \"Don't shoot; please don't shot.\"\n\n\"You know who I am?\"\n\nLips trembled. \"Umm, ahhh, Carl Davidson.\"\n\n\"Smart work. Now, I'm going to ask you some questions. You tell me one lie and I'll shoot you dead, understand? I'm in absolutely no mood to hear shit.\"\n\nSweat bubbled on the guy's brow and his voice rasped. \"Yes, understand.\"\n\n\"Good. You're waiting for me, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Umm, ahhh, yes.\"\n\n\"Ordered to shoot on sight?\"\n\n\"No, to let you go into the apartment, then surround it. Take you alive, if possible.\"\n\nDavidson's mouth went dry. \"What has happened to the woman in the apartment?\"\n\nThe fighter gnawed his lip. \"What woman?\"\n\nDavidson pointed his rifle at the fighter's forehead. \"One more lie and you're fucked. The woman in the apartment - is she alive?\"\n\n\"Y-y-es.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"They, umm, took her to the Maximum Security Unit.\"\n\n\"You mean, the one attached to Webster City Penitentiary?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Why'd they take her there?\"\n\n\"For interrogation, I guess.\"\n\nDavidson's sensed the guy was too afraid and confused to be lying. He was glad to hear that Helen was alive and depressed to learn she was in an impregnable hell-hole. How the hell could he get her out of there?\n\n\"How many fighters are waiting for me?\"\n\n\"About a dozen.\"\n\n\"I should be flattered.\"\n\n\"We heard you were dangerous.\"\n\n\"Who told you we were hiding here?\"\n\n\"I don't know - honest; I'm just following orders.\"\n\nDavidson was strongly tempted to shoot the guy, but the gunfire would alert his friends. \"Turn around.\"\n\nEyes glowed. \"W-w-why?\"\n\n\"Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot you; I'm going to handcuff you.\"\n\n\"H-honest?\"\n\n\"Yeah, though I'll shoot you if you want. I like shooting stupid people. They annoy me.\"\n\nThe guy cringed. \"N-n-no, no, I'll turn around.\"\n\n\"Good. And put your hands behind your back.\"\n\nThe guy did as he was told.\n\nDavidson twirled his rifle around and slam the butt into the side of the guy's head. The guy slumped to the ground, unconscious or worse.\n\nDavidson donned the guy's red beret and combat smock. Hopefully, if he ran into any Alliance fighters, the disguise would throw them off balance, at least briefly.\nCHAPTER SEVEN\n\nDavidson put his fear for Helen's safety on hold while he prowled back to his truck, wary of snipers and foot-patrols. He reached it safely and drove off.\n\nAfter a couple of blocks, he knew he was in the clear and his fear for Helen reignited. She had burrowed deep into his heart and given his life meaning. He had to spring her from the Maximum Security Unit attached to the Webster City Penitentiary or die in the attempt.\n\nMost of the City's institutions melted away like plastic after the Alliance arrived. The Unit was one of the few that survived. The Alliance seized control of it and released its supporters. Then, it incarcerated any Webster Dynasty big-wigs it had rounded up and not shot. Some regular guards were retained to help run the facility. They were overjoyed that their new masters fed them.\n\nWhile a major in the ISB, Davidson often visited the Unit to interrogate prisoners. He became well acquainted with some of the guards, including the Deputy Warden, Felix Grieg, who reached out to Davidson when his son was charged with theft. Davidson made the charge go away. Grieg owed Davidson a big favor.\n\nDavidson wanted to confirm that Helen was in the Unit. Grieg seemed the best person to consult. Davidson once gave him a lift home from the Unit to an apartment block in Sector 6. That was where he now headed.\n\nThe Chancellors had forced most citizens of Webster City to live in apartment blocks. That made it easier for the security services to spy on them, and for them to spy on each other. Only the elite lived in detached houses.\n\nUnfortunately, most apartment buildings were woefully constructed. Architects and engineers were poorly trained; builders were lazy and over-confident, and laborers were often prisoners, dispatched from the main penitentiary, who sabotaged the buildings for fun. Not surprisingly, many buildings collapsed. If a resident was lucky, his building emitted a few squeaks and groans before it fell, and he managed to escape. Otherwise, he rode it to the ground and it became his tomb.\n\nWhenever a building pancaked with a significant death toll, the authorities accused a few scapegoats of industrial sabotage and shot them. But the \"justice\" handed out was so capricious that nobody had an incentive to improve their performance.\n\nThough Felix Grieg lived in one of the better-made apartment blocks, large watermarks hinted at concrete cancer and numerous balconies had either sagged for fallen right off.\n\nDavidson parked his truck outside the block and climbed out, still wearing the red cap and camouflage jacket of an Alliance fighter. A couple of scruffy ten-year-old boys were throwing a baseball on the lawn in front of the building. They obviously had little else to do - the schools were closed and unlikely to re-open - and did not fully grasp the enormity of recent events.\n\nDavidson approached the blond one. \"Hey kid, I'm trying to find Felix Grieg. Which apartment does he live in?\"\n\nThe kid caught the ball with his mitt and faced Davidson. \"Why should I tell you?\"\n\nDavidson admired his attitude. \"Good question. Tell me and you'll get a reward.\"\n\n\"What reward?\"\n\nMost Alliance fighters prized chocolate even higher than booze. Several boxes lay in the back of the truck. \"You like chocolate?\"\n\nEyes gleamed. \"Course, I like it.\"\n\n\"Give me the apartment number and you can make yourself sick as a dog.\"\n\n\"You serious?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And if I don't?\"\n\n\"This may be the last chance you ever get to eat chocolate - think about that.\"\n\nThe kid obviously did start to think about it. His friend yelled: \"I'll tell you which apartment he's in.\"\n\nThe first boy said: \"No, I'll tell you.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Don't worry, you'll both get a box.\"\n\n\"Show us the boxes.\"\n\n\"No, tell me first.\"\n\n\"I don't trust you.\"\n\n\"Very wise. But what have you got to lose? Like I said: as much chocolate as you can eat.\"\n\nOK, OK, he lives on the second floor - number 22.\"\n\n\"Is he there now?\"\n\n\"I saw him go in, a bit earlier.\"\n\n\"Thanks. The chocolates are in the back of the truck. Don't touch anything else - nothing.\"\n\nA shining face. \"Sure.\"\n\nThe kids scampered towards the truck and Davidson wandered into the apartment block, where the lift looked like it died long ago. He climbed the dark fire-escape to the second floor and walked along the corridor. Weak light fell through small glazed windows.\n\nHe knocked on number 22. No answer. He rapped again.\n\nA voice yelled. \"Who is it?\"\n\n\"Felix, it's Carl Davidson. I want to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Carl Davidson from the ISB?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nDavidson removed his red cap as someone shuffled towards the door and presumably peered through the eye-hole.\n\nThe door opened. Felix Grieg was a tall, brawny man with the bitter expression of someone who had spent many years doing time with hardened criminals. He wore a brown T-shirt and jeans. His eyes flicked up and down the corridor to ensure Davidson was alone. \"Carl, what are you doing here? In fact, why are you still alive?\"\n\n\"I should be dead?\"\n\n\"Of course. You were a major in the ISB. You were unpopular before the Alliance won; you became poison afterward. I thought the Alliance would shoot you out of hand.\"\n\nFew people knew that Davidson was instrumental in stopping the last Chancellor releasing the Agent Pandora super-virus, and the Alliance spared him out of gratitude. No point wasting time on a history lesson. \"They've got to catch me first.\"\n\n\"You're on the run?\"\n\n\"I'm keeping a low profile.\"\n\nA dry chuckle. \"I bet. Why are you here?\"\n\n\"I need information.\"\n\n\"About what?\"\n\nHe wanted to stop Grieg retreating into his apartment. \"Invite me inside and I'll tell you.\"\n\nA frown. \"My wife's asleep.\"\n\n\"OK then, let's go for a walk.\"\n\n\"Frankly, I don't want to be seen with you.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, we won't run into anyone we know and you owe me a big favor if I recall.\"\n\nA long stare and a sigh. \"Alright, let's sit in the playground.\"\n\nAs they descended the fire escape stairs, Grieg complained that the building had lacked electricity and water for almost a week. \"Thank God, I'm only on the second floor.\"\n\n\"Can you stay where you are?\"\n\n\"No, and there's nowhere else in the City to go.\"\n\n\"What will you do?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. My wife has an uncle with a farm near Boston. We might try to reach him, though we're not sure we can.\"\n\nAs they left the building, the two kids jumped from the truck, each clutching a large box of chocolates, and scampered off. Their pockets were full of something, maybe ammunition.\n\nFelix Grieg led Davidson around the corner to a vacant playground with a set of monkey bars, a rickety carousel and a rusting two-seat swing set. Bark chips covered the ground. They sat on the swing seats and rocked gently.\n\nGrieg said: \"What do you want?\"\n\n\"Do you still work at the Maximum Security Unit?\"\n\n\"Yep. The Alliance kept about half the guards when it took over.\" A shrug. \"I couldn't refuse: I get enough food to feed my family.\"\n\n\"Fully understand. Who's running the Unit?\"\n\n\"An Alliance colonel called Maxwell, though he comes and goes. I think he reports directly to Secretary Monroe.\"\n\nHow many guards are working at the Unit?\"\n\n\"About 90, working in three shifts. So, 30 are on duty at any one time. About half are Alliance fighters and half are regular guards.\"\n\n\"How many prisoners does the Unit hold?\"\n\n\"Around 300. When the Alliance arrived, it released lots of Alliance fighters and sympathizers, and locked up lots of City high-ups it captured. The number of prisoners is falling, though. Monroe has started culling them. He's releasing anyone who's not a threat and shooting anyone who is. So far, a lot more have been shot than released.\"\n\n\"How many have been shot so far?\"\n\n\"About 50, and the pace is quickening. I reckon about 20 got wasted yesterday.\"\n\n\"Where are they being shot?\"\n\n\"In the basement. Then, they get thrown into a truck and taken away somewhere for disposal.\"\n\nDavidson had assumed that Monroe was holding Helen as a hostage. What if he was wrong and Monroe planned to cull her? His stomach did a snap-roll and bile rattled up his throat.\n\nGrieg used his feet to swing higher. \"Is that the information you wanted?\"\n\nDavidson tried to sound matter of fact. \"Only some of it. A woman I know got arrested this morning.\"\n\nWhat's her name?\"\n\n\"Helen Watkins.\"\n\nA pause. \"Yeah. She arrived a couple of hours before I clocked off.\"\n\nDavidson quietened his desperation. \"Is she alright?\"\n\n\"She was when I left. They put her in a cell. I heard they were going to interrogate her, but I didn't pay much attention. Does she mean a lot to you?\"\n\nDavidson did not want to look vulnerable, but had no choice. \"She's a friend - a good friend. Is there any way to get her out?\"\n\n\"Absolutely none. The Unit's a bit disorganized right now. But there are always plenty of Alliance fighters on duty and they're a tough lot. They would cut your throat for your spare change. I would not tangle with them. Trying to get her out would be suicide.\"\n\n\"You mean, you can't help me?\"\n\n\"Of course not. I'm not stupid. Nobody can get her out of there. I'll give her a message if you want, which will be damn dangerous. That's all. Sorry.\"\n\nDavidson was going to spring Helen from the prison or die in the attempt. But there was no point alerting Grieg and give him a chance to betray Davidson. A shrug. \"I understand. There's nothing I can do, I guess. I'll have to forget about her.\"\n\n\"Smart move. But, like I said, I'll give her a message, if you want.\"\n\nDavidson stood up. \"Nah, forget about it. She'll have to look after herself.\"\n\n\"We've all got to do that. Can't let women hurt you.\"\n\n\"That is the truth. When is your next shift?\"\n\n\"From noon tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Good luck.\"\nCHAPTER EIGHT\n\nDavidson once believed so strongly in Webster City and its mission that he often gladly risked his life to defend it. Then, he lost his faith in the City and became reluctant to risk his life for anything or anyone. However, Helen changed his mind. When Felix Grieg's revealed that she was still alive in the Maximum Security Unit, and might soon be culled, he was terrified. The Unit was almost impregnable. Trying to break her out seemed suicidal. But that was exactly what he intended to do. He had learned in the last few days that, if he could not live with her, he would rather not live at all.\n\nHe drove the truck through Sector 8 to Lister Boulevard and followed it for a couple of miles to the Webster City Penitentiary, which was divided into the Main Prison and the Maximum Security Unit. A four-mile wall, with a guard-tower ever two hundred yards, ran around the Main Prison. It once housed 20,000 prisoners who either worked in its factories, which dominated the City economy, or labored in chain gangs that worked outside. The guards deserted it when the City fell to the Freedom Alliance and the inmates poured out to cause further mayhem.\n\nThe Maximum Security Unit sat beside the Main Prison. They each had high walls with a narrow gap between them. The Unit once held about 400 prisoners. Most were either Alliance fighters or sympathizers, or highly dangerous criminals. When the Alliance broke into the City, it released its comrades and restocked the prison with City notables it had not shot.\n\nThe front entrance of the Unit had heavy iron gates and machine-gun emplacements on each side. Davidson cruised past and saw half-a-dozen Alliance fighters lounging or wandering about, heavily armed.\n\nOn the other side of the road was a small field. Beyond it, two hundred yards away, was a clump of deserted apartment buildings. Davidson turned left and swung past the buildings. Several big signs warned they were unsafe to enter. The signs were unusual. The City did not usually condemn buildings. It let them fall down with their occupants inside. These buildings looked particularly murderous. Indeed, a couple had a pronounced tilt. Maybe the residents abandoned them and gave the authorities no choice.\n\nDavidson stopped in a disused car park between the buildings and pondered how to infiltrate the Unit and rescue Helen. He still thought such an attempt was absolutely mad. But he had a few advantages. For a start, a mixture of Alliance fighters and regular guards now ran the Unit. They were probably poorly motivated and disorganized. Additionally, while a major in the ISB, he often visited the Main Prison and the Unit, and knew their layouts well. He knew, for instance, that there was an underground passage between the Main Prison and the Unit. Now the Main Prison was vacant, he might be able to use it to access the Unit. Definitely, an option worth exploring.\n\nHe climbed out of the truck wearing the stolen Alliance uniform and toting an AK-47, and strode for almost a mile through heavily wooded parkland until he was opposite the front entrance of the Main Prison. The days were now quite short; the sunlight was fraying. He studied the entrance for ten minutes. The massive iron gates were open and there were no signs of life. He jogged across an open space, across a road and warily slipped between the gates.\n\nA huge ditch and razor-wire topped fence ran just inside the whole length of the outer wall. He crossed a bridge over the ditch and passed through a huge hole torn in the wire fence.\n\nThe Main Prison was divided into two sectors. On his left were long cell blocks; on his right, the two-dozen factories where the prisoners once worked. Davidson headed into the factory sector and saw that about a third of the factories were burned-out husks and most of the others were fire-damaged. Limp smoke spiraled out of many. A few harmless-looking former inmates ignored him and shuffled about.\n\nThe prison had interlocking wire-mesh tunnels that funneled pedestrians between the factories. Davidson entered one and passed a fire-scarred automobile plant and a near-intact white-goods plant.\n\nA guardhouse abutted the outer wall closest to the Maximum Security Unit. Its front entrance was a charred black ring and the roof had collapsed. He stepped through the entrance and gingerly picked his way through several fire-blackened rooms towards the back wall. Sickly daylight wafted through huge holes in the ceiling.\n\nA door once shut off the underground passage that led to the Unit. It was now a twisted sheet of metal hanging from one hinge. He pulled it off and edged along the passage for about ten yards until the light disappeared.\n\nHe pulled out a pen-light and used it to reach the heavy metal door at the other end of the passage, which barred access to the Unit. It was locked and undamaged. He had no key. Only an explosive charge would open it.\n\nIf he wanted to break into the Unit, he would need an explosives expert and some good fighters to help subdue the Alliance fighters and prison guards inside. He strode back through the Main Prison, pondering who to could call upon and did not produce a single name. Anyone who might be able to help him was dead or disappeared. Despite that, he remained determined to break into the Unit and rescue Helen. Rather strangely, the impossibility of the task was oddly refreshing.\n\nDaylight was crumbling as he left the main entrance and circled around to the clump of condemned apartment blocks where he left the truck. The apartment blocks were all ten-stories high. The builders of Webster City were notoriously over-confident. But even they did not trust themselves to build higher. To his surprise, a light winked in the window of an eighth-story apartment. Surely, nobody was stupid enough to live that high in a tottering building. Then, he noticed the apartment had an excellent view of the Maximum Security Unit, two hundred yards away. Was someone watching it? If so, he had a very serious motive for doing so.\n\nDespite the pronounced lean of the building, Davidson was determined to find out who was in the apartment. The door at the base of the fire escape was missing. He used the pen-light to climb the pitch-black stairwell, sometimes stumbling over rubbish until he reached the eighth floor. He gently pushed open the fire door and stepped into the corridor, AK-47 ready. Gray light spilled through several open doorways to provide poor visibility.\n\nHe shuffled along the corridor. Soft voices. Where? They grew louder. He reached a door, slightly ajar, with a flickering light in the crack. Voices floated out. He only caught snatches of the conversation. Two men, at least, were discussing the routine of the guards at the front gate of the Unit. Davidson thought he recognized both voices. People from his past. Why on earth were they surveilling the Unit? Davidson soon realized why. It was obvious.\n\nHe gently pushed open the door and cat-walked into the apartment, rifle at high ready, ready to knock down any threat. A short corridor opened out into a cheaply furnished living room which windowed onto an open field and the Unit beyond. A lamp shedding quivering light sat on the window sill. Two men stood gazing at the Unit, their rifles propped against a wall.\n\nDavidson growled. \"Don't move.\"\n\nThe men ignored him and spun around. Davidson knew them well. Kevin Malloy was in his mid-fifties, with thick reddish hair, a pudgy face and cunning eyes. His bodyguard, Frank Hamelin, was about forty, with a shaven head and no neck to put a rope around. Davidson had recognized their voices while standing in the corridor.\n\nMalloy was the biggest crime boss in Webster City for twenty years until the Freedom Alliance took over. He maintained that position with rat cunning and good relations with the City elite. When not supplying the Chancellor and his cronies with drugs, booze and hookers, he assiduously helped the police catch his competitors. He also helped Davidson finger Alliance spies and collaborators trying to infiltrate the underworld.\n\nHowever, his operation did not always run smoothly. A few years ago, his son, Albert, who lacked his smarts, beat up a close friend of the Chancellor in a brothel. To avenge his close friend and send Malloy a message, the Chancellor threw Albert into the Maximum Security Unit. That explained Malloy's surveillance of the Unit. His dimwit son was obviously still there and he was desperate to bust him out.\n\nMalloy's terror turned to relief. \"My God, Davidson. What the hell are you doing here?\"\n\n\"No, you tell me what you're doing here. I've got the rifle, remember. The moment I get bored, I'll use it.\"\n\nMalloy's nimble mind fumbled around for a good lie. \"We're, umm, hiding out.\"\n\n\"Really? On the eighth floor of a condemned building?\"\n\n\"That's why it's, umm, a good place to hide out.\"\n\n\"Unless it collapses on top of you. Then it's gotta be a terrible idea. You were admiring the view. Any reason?\"\n\n\"Ah, no.\"\n\nDavidson. \"You mean, you weren't studying the Maximum Security Unit?\"\n\nMalloy missed a beat. \"Of course not.\"\n\n\"I'm disappointed. You used to lie so smoothly. You're slipping. I know why you're here.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"You want to spring your son from the Unit.\"\n\nMalloy paused and squinted. \"Who're you working for right now?\"\n\n\"Myself.\"\n\n\"How can I be sure?\"\n\n\"Are you kidding? I'm an ex-major of the ISB. The Alliance won't use me; it wants me dead.\"\n\n\"Then why are you still alive?\"\n\nFew people in Webster City knew that the last Chancellor tried to release a super-virus to wipe out the Alliance and the rest of humanity. Even fewer knew that Davidson helped stop him and the Alliance spared him for that reason. Davidson did not intend to mention his dealings with the Alliance. That would just make Malloy even more suspicious.\n\n\"Why? I'm exceptionally good at staying alive. It's my specialty. So, tell me the truth: you're here to get your son out of the Unit, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Why do you care?\"\n\n\"There's someone in there I want to rescue. We should combine forces.\"\n\nA flicker of interest. \"Who do you want to rescue?\"\n\n\"A woman.\"\n\n\"Your wife?\"\n\n\"No. My marriage is over. Another woman.\"\n\nMalloy studied Davidson and weighed his options. \"Why's she inside?\"\n\n\"The Alliance is hunting for me. It wants her to say where I am.\"\n\n\"Will she?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"They can be mighty persuasive.\"\n\n\"She doesn't have the information they need and wouldn't tell them, anyway.\"\n\nMalloy rubbed his chin and pondered his options. \"Got a photo?\"\n\nDavidson held up a small photo of Helen that he kept in his wallet.\n\nMalloy held it under the flickering light. \"Good-looking woman. Worth saving. But your story doesn't add up.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I can't imagine you risking your ass for a woman, or anyone else for that matter. No offense, but it's not your style.\"\n\nA grin. \"How little you understood me.\"\n\nParanoia stopped lurking and crowded into the room. \"Maybe, or maybe you're working for Monroe. You're setting me up, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Did you land on your head recently? If I worked for Monroe, I'd have shot you five minutes ago instead of listening to the river of crap leaving your mouth.\"\n\nA pensive look. \"Mmm, good point. Alright then, yeah, we're here to get Albert out of the Unit.\"\n\n\"Have you asked your Alliance contacts for help?\"\n\n\"Of course. But the Unit's under the direct control of Monroe and his key henchman, Colonel Maxwell. It's their playground. My contacts can't help me.\"\n\n\"Have you reached out to Monroe or Maxwell?\"\n\nA sneer. \"Don't be stupid. They're animals; they'd shoot me dead, then shoot Albert.\"\n\n\"So, you're trying to find a way in?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nTime to twist the knife. \"Well, you'd better hurry.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Monroe has started killing prisoners.\"\n\nMalloy shivered. \"Killing them?\"\n\n\"Yep, he's shot 50 so far, including about 20 yesterday. He's obviously getting into the swing of it.\"\n\n\"Oh, shit, really?\"\n\n\"Yes. According to my source - a very good one - anyone he thinks is a threat gets shot and anyone he doesn't is released. So far, he's had a lot more shot than released - a lot more.\"\n\nMalloy went pale. \"Jesus. My boy might be dead already.\"\n\n\"That's possible, though the odds are still against it. You've certainly got no time to waste.\"\n\nMalloy showed Hamelin a panicked expression. \"Looks like we'll have to go through the front gate.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"We've been thinking about attacking through the front gate.\"\n\n\"That's nuts.\"\n\nMalloy flinched. \"No, it's not. When the City fell, most of my crew disappeared. Only half-a-dozen stayed loyal. They've all got military training. I've also got an armored personnel carrier with a heavy machine gun. We can drive it through the gate at dawn and catch them by surprise.\"\n\n\"Where the hell did you get an APC from?\"\n\n\"This city's full of abandoned military equipment.\"\n\nVery true. \"The APC works?\"\n\n\"Yep. Our glorious military forces didn't let it get damaged.\"\n\n\"It's still a crazy plan. The APC will probably get you through the front gate. Then, you'll have to hoof it to the cells. You'll all get shot to doll rags.\"\n\nMalloy looked desperate. \"I've got no choice. My son could be executed at any time. He might be dead already.\"\n\n\"Getting yourself killed won't save him.\"\n\nA frown. \"Everybody's a critic. You got a better plan?\"\n\n\"Actually, I do.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"There's a secret passage into the Unit. To use it, all we have to do is blow open a metal door.\"\n\nMalloy brightened. \"Sounds promising. Where's this passage?\"\n\n\"It starts in the Main Prison and ends on the floor below the control room in the Unit.\"\n\n\"Where in the Main Prison?\"\n\nDavidson did not trust Malloy. Their interests overlapped almost perfectly. But his fondness for betrayal could blind him to logic. \"You'll find out the exact location when we go in.\"\n\n\"You don't trust me?\"\n\n\"Why should I? I'm surprised you trust yourself.\"\n\nA rueful smile. \"So am I. And, once we're in the Unit, you'll know where to go?\"\n\n\"Definitely. We should be in and out before anyone reacts.\"\n\n'Then let's do it.\"\n\n\"Not so fast. You'll have to find someone who can blow open the metal door, and some guys who'll create a diversion at the front gate to draw off the guards.\"\n\n\"I can find them. When do you want to do this?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow at dawn.\"\n\n\"That soon?\"\n\n\"We've both run out of time.\"\n\nA nod. \"OK, we'll do it then.\"\n\n\"Good. But there's one condition.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I run the show: you and your people do what I say.\"\n\nA shrug. \"Of course. You're the professional. I know you're good. When do you want everyone here?\"\n\n\"We'll meet downstairs at 5 a.m.\"\n\n\"Alright, I'll go and organize everything.\"\n\nDavidson feared Malloy would try to betray him to Monroe in return for his son. Malloy would be stupid to do that. Monroe could not be trusted at any level. But why risk it? \"No, you won't. You stay here. Send Frank.\"\n\n\"But ...\"\n\n\"I want to keep an eye on you.\"\n\nA shrug. \"OK.\" Malloy looked at his bodyguard. \"Frank, you heard all of that. Tex Milgram knows explosives. Give him the dynamite in the armory. Then round up the rest of the boys and be back here by 5 a.m, with the APC. Make sure they're all armed to the teeth. \"\n\n\"Will do.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"And make sure they all have a flashlight.\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Frank Hamelin looked inquiringly at his boss, wanting him to signal whether to organize a double-cross. \"You'll be OK here?\"\n\nIf Malloy even hinted there should be a double-cross, Davidson would have shot them both dead. However, Malloy shook his head. \"Of course. I trust Carl. He'll keep his word. So, no messing about. Do what you've been told to do.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Listen to your boss. If I get nervous, I'll put a big bullet in his little brain - I guarantee it.\"\n\nHamelin showed his palms. \"Sure, I'll do what I'm told.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\nHamelin nodded towards his weapon, standing against the wall. \"Can I take my rifle?\"\n\n\"Sure. And close the door on the way out.\"\n\nThe bodyguard slung the rifle over his shoulder and shut the door as he left.\n\nWhen he was gone, Malloy said: \"Thank God I've still got Frank. He's stuck to me like an old dog. You never know who'll turn out to be loyal, do you?\"\n\n\"He's not loyal; he thinks you offer him the best chance of survival.\"\n\nA frown and nod. \"Mmm, I guess you're right.\"\n\n\"So, how's business?\"\n\n\"It's turned to shit, as you'd expect. When the Alliance arrived, I thought I'd make a fortune selling all the black-market stuff I've stockpiled over the years. But how do I get paid? City dollars are worthless and I don't want any more gold or diamonds. Can't eat them. You know what I miss most about the old days?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The law and order. That helped me make money. These days, everyone's a criminal. There's too much competition.\"\n\n\"You must have plenty of food in your stockpile.\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do with it?\"\n\n\"Keep it for myself, of course.\"\n\n\"You could share it with your fellow citizens?\"\n\nA frown. \"That would be stupid.\"\n\nMalloy sat on a chair beside the window and stared at the Unit. Davidson did the same and balanced his rifle on his knees.\n\nMalloy said: \"You know, I got the shock of my life when the Alliance army attacked the City. I knew it was gaining strength. But it appeared out of nowhere and, all of a sudden, was everywhere. I thought you guys at the ISB were supposed to keep track of it.\"\n\nDavidson shrugged. \"Actually, Military Intelligence was supposed to do that. But we all under-estimated Solon and his army. They were a lot better than we thought.\"\n\n\"I zipped over to the Unit to rescue my boy before any Alliance fighters arrived. They were already inside, releasing their pals. Now, I've got to do it the hard way.\" A frown. \"I never dreamed the City could turn to shit so fast. The Websters were mean bastards, but they provided stability. Now, we've got none. Even the Alliance is falling apart.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Haven't you heard?\"\n\n\"Heard what?\"\n\n\"About Secretary Monroe and Commander Solon.\"\n\nDavidson sat forward. \"What about them?\"\n\n\"A spokesman for the Central Committee made a big announcement on the radio this afternoon. He said Commander Solon tried to assassinate Secretary Monroe and take over the City, and failed. He called Solon an outlaw and traitor, and said there's a big reward for anyone who kills or captures him.\" A chuckle. \"He didn't say what the reward was. Unless it's a big juicy steak, nobody will want it.\"\n\nDavidson was not surprised. Monroe was obviously trying to cover up his attempt to assassinate Solon. It certainly looked like Monroe had the upper hand.\n\nDavidson said: \"So, Solon is still alive?\"\n\n\"Looks like it, though on the run.\"\n\nTo pass the time, they exchanged gossip about the fate of the City elite. Most, it seemed, were dead. When Malloy asked what happened to Colonel Prentice, Davidson lied that he didn't know. \"I haven't heard about him since the City fell. I've assumed he was captured and shot.\"\n\nA shrug. \"That's kind of sad, in a way. You two were quite a team; you also kept your word if possible.\"\n\nDavidson asked about the fate of the Bishop of Webster City.\n\n\"Why you care?\"\n\n\"I used to hate his sermons.\"\n\n\"Everybody did. Then you'll be glad to know he's dead.\"\n\n\"Who told you that?'\n\nA grin. \"Nobody. I saw him hanging from a streetlight near the Botanical Gardens.\"\n\n\"You're sure it was him?\"\n\n\"Yes. I mean, I'd never seen him from that angle before and he looked kinda bloated. But I'm sure it was him. Bastard deserved it.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I used to supply him with hookers. He kept asking for younger and younger girls.\"\n\n\"Did you supply them?\"\n\n\"Of course not. I have some integrity, you know.\"\n\nDavidson casually mentioned that he'd heard a rumor that Isaiah Webster was still alive and in hiding. Malloy shook his head and said he'd heard nothing about that. \"If he is, I hope they find him. I'd love to see him decorating a streetlight.\"\n\nThe apartment building suddenly groaned and shook. Davidson felt his stomach collapse.\n\nMalloy looked terrified. \"Holy shit. What was that?\"\n\n\"The building doesn't feel well.\"\n\n\"Jesus, is it going to fall down?\"\n\n\"Eventually, though not before morning.\"\n\n\"How do you know? Let's get out of here.\"\n\n\"No. We stay until your boys arrive.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"It's easier for me to keep an eye on you.\"\n\n\"Shit, you're going to kill both of us.\"\n\nThat, Davidson though, was entirely true. If the building didn't kill them, the guards at the Unit would.\n\nCHAPTER NINE\n\nDavidson found it easy to stay awake. The repeated rumblings of the building did not concern him. He only worried about whether Helen was still alive and he could bust her out of the Unit. He just did not want to lose her. Maybe he should have told her, when he had the chance, that he loved her. Too late now. At least, if he got killed trying to rescue her, she would know that.\n\nHe had stashed several food bars in his combat smock. After eating a couple, he cleaned his automatic rifle and pistol with a rag, while keeping an eye on Malloy, dozing in his chair. Malloy did not even wake when the building shook and groaned several more times.\n\nJust before 5 a.m., Davidson jabbed him awake.\n\nMalloy looked bleary-eyed. \"What's happening?\"\n\n\"The building is collapsing.\"\n\nMalloy yelped and struggled to his feet. \"Oh, shit.\"\n\nDavidson smiled. \"Just joking.\"\n\nMalloy frowned. \"Hah, fuckin' hah.\"\n\n\"It's almost five o'clock. We've got to go downstairs. Time to break into the Unit.\"\n\nA big eye-roll. \"Thanks for reminding me. Are we serious about this?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"This is crazy.\"\n\n\"I know. But you want to save your son.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Malloy shivered and shook his head. \"Jesus, I should never have become a father. That was a really dumb move. You know, I don't even love the kid and he doesn't love me?\"\n\n\"Then why the hell are you doing this?\"\n\nA sad shrug. \"I loved his mother. She's the only person I've ever loved and he's all that's left of her. So, I can't let him die. He's a total waste of space, but I've got to save him.\"\n\nDavidson sensed that was the most confessional Malloy would ever get, and said nothing lest it destroyed the moment.\n\nThey each used a flashlight to descend the fire escape and enter the buckled car park outside. A half-moon gave the landscape a light-gray sheen. On their left was the forbidding silhouette of the Main Prison. Straight ahead was the front gate of the Maximum Security Unit.\n\nThey sat on a broken concrete bench and waited. Five minutes later, a Lincoln sedan, a truck and an armored personnel carrier with a heavy machine gun crawled between a couple of buildings into the car park. Their headlights were off. Someone, at least, knew what he was doing.\n\nMalloy stood and waved. The tiny convoy pulled up in front of him. Frank Hamelin climbed from the driver's seat of the Lincoln. A big guy with a crew-cut, carrying a bulky knapsack, emerged from the other side.\n\nMalloy turned to Davidson and pointed at the guy with the crew-cut. \"This is Tex Milgram. He trained as a sapper in the army.\" Malloy turned to Tex. \"You got enough explosives to blow open a door?\"\n\nTex held up the knapsack. \"I could blow open a dozen.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\nHalf-a-dozen men in combat fatigues climbed out of the truck and the armored personnel carrier and approached Malloy. Most carried AK-47s. A couple had pump-action shotguns. Malloy claimed they all had military training. That was probably true. But recent events had put in question the City's training of infantry.\n\nMalloy held up his hands. \"Alright, boys, thanks for coming. Let me introduce you to Major Carl Anderson who once worked for the ISB.\" That news produced several frowns. \"I know, I know, he was a prick, but he's not any longer.\" A rueful smile. \"Now he's on our side. In fact, he's in charge of this operation. He knows exactly what he's doing. I guarantee that. So, do what he says and you'll stay alive. I promise that. Then, when this is all over, you'll each get a huge hamper of food and booze - I promise that, too.\" Malloy turned to Davidson. \"What do you want us to do?\"\n\nDavidson explained that a party of five would enter the Maximum Security Unit via a hidden passage, while the rest created a diversion outside the front gate. \"Any questions?\" Silence. He turned to Malloy. \"The party of five will include you, Frank, Tex and me. Pick another guy.\"\n\nMalloy pointed at a fat, bearded guy with a mean look and a pump-action shotgun. \"Derek, come with us.\"\n\nDavidson was pleased that Derek looked pleased. The guy obviously didn't realize how crazy the scheme was. He shuffled over and stood proudly beside Malloy.\n\nDavidson turned to the rest of the men. \"Take cover in that building over there.\" He pointed at a disused factory about a hundred yards from the front gate. \"Start shooting at 6 a.m. sharp; I repeat, 6 a.m. sharp. Keep shooting for ten minutes. Then get the hell out of there. Do you all understand?\"\n\nSomeone said: \"Can we use the APC?\"\n\n\"Of course, if you can keep it hidden until 6 a.m.\"\n\nA big smile. \"Yippee.\"\n\nDavidson spent ten minutes making sure his five-man party had all of the weapons and supplies it would need. Then, he led it on a circular march to the front entrance of the Main Prison. After trotting across an open space and an unlit road, they reached the huge metal gates, still ajar, and threaded between them. Inside, smoldering fires in abandoned factories illuminated the semi-dark prison.\n\nDavidson did not want to be out on point, his back turned to Malloy and his men, but had no choice. He retraced the route he took the previous day to reach the guardhouse. Once there, he turned on his flashlight and led the party through burnt-out rooms to the underground passageway. They followed it to the heavy metal door that barred access to the Maximum Security Unit.\n\nHe glanced at his watch. Five-thirty. Half an hour until the diversion started. He looked at Tex Milgram. \"Alright, get the door ready.\"\n\nAfter using his flashlight to inspect the door, the former sapper extracted a stick of dynamite from his pack and fastened it to the lock.\n\nDavidson said quietly: \"Will that do the job?\"\n\n\"Absolutely. This door is shit. I could kick it down if I had to.\"\n\nTex Milgram inserted a fuse into the stick. \"This is a twenty-second fuse. Tell me when to light it.\"\n\n\"Wait for the diversion.\"\n\nEveryone turned off their flashlights, to save their batteries, and sat against the sandstone walls of the passageway. Tension filled the darkness. While they waited, Davidson described the lay-out of the Unit and what they would do inside it. Nobody objected to his plan.\n\nAt six o'clock precisely, the noise of AK-47s firing on full-auto reached the tunnel. Soon afterward, the heavy machine-gun of the APC joined the party. Several loud \"crumps\" had to be explosions.\n\nDavidson turned on his flashlight and shone it at Malloy's face. \"What the hell are those explosions?\"\n\nMalloy smiled. \"I bought a couple of grenade launchers on the black market about a year ago. The boys must have brought them along.\"\n\nDavidson expected to hear the fusillade slacken off a little. However, it grew in intensity. In fact, it sounded like the attackers were receiving plenty of return fire and a full-scale firefight was underway. Jesus. What the hell was happening out there? Who surprised who?\n\nInstead of speculating, he turned to Tex Milgram, who had switched on his flashlight. \"Blow the door.\"\n\nEveryone retreated to the guardhouse, except the ex-sapper, who lit the fuse and scurried back to join them. \"Fire in the hole.\"\n\nAfter a dull thud, dust and smoke spewed from the passageway.\n\n\"Let's go.\" Davidson plunged into the passageway holding his AK-47 and flashlight. Eyes stung; cordite tickled his throat. The door was gone. He stumbled into a well-lit corridor with a linoleum floor. Nobody there. The other four staggered out after him. Still heavy gunfire in the distance.\n\nHe tucked away his flashlight and led them along the corridor into a stairwell. He climbed one story and stepped out into another well-lit corridor. Vacant. Nobody seemed to have heard the explosion that blew open the door.\n\nThe Unit had a hub-and-spoke design. Three long corridors, with cells on both sides, extended from a central control room. A guard standing in that room could observe the whole length of each corridor. Whenever Davidson visited the Unit, three or four guards were stationed inside it. Hopefully, the diversion at the main gate drew some away.\n\nThe door to the control room was twenty yards away. He scurried forward, rifle extended, and had almost reached the door when it swung open. An Alliance fighter stepped out, saw Davidson and started to unsling his rifle. Davidson bowled him over with a short burst.\n\nDavidson hurdled him and dashed through the door, rifle ready. An Alliance fighter and a regular guard stood in the middle of the control room. The terrified guard raised his hands, but the fighter stepped towards a rifle rack on the wall.\n\nDavidson yelled: \"Freeze.\"\n\nThe fighter ignored him and grabbed a rifle. Davidson shot him twice in the side. He tumbled over and lay motionless. The rest of Davidson's party entered the control room behind him.\n\nDavidson looked at the guard, cheeks quivering, obviously unarmed. \"Where is everyone?\"\n\n\"Two Alliance guys went to the front gate when the shooting started. Then, another guy left. You shot him.\"\n\nDavidson turned to Tex and Derek. \"Anyone at the front gate has to come along the corridor outside. There's a corner about 50 yards from here. Go there and shoot anyone coming this way.\"\n\nBoth men looked at Malloy, who said: \"Do it!\"\n\nThe pair scampered out the door and the guard said: \"W-w-what do you want?\"\n\n\"We're here to collect two prisoners.\"\n\n\"You got permission to do that?\" The guard's brain was lagging well behind current events.\n\nMalloy said: \"Don't be frickin' stupid.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"The names of the prisoners are: Helen Watkins and Albert Malloy. What are their cells numbers?\"\n\nThe guard stumbled over to a desk, picked up a clipboard and flipped through several sheets of paper.\n\n\"Umm, she's in cell 91; he's in 110.\"\n\nThank God, she was alive. \"Give me the keys to those cells.\"\n\n\"But ...\"\n\nDavidson stabbed the guy in the belly with the muzzle of his rifle. \"Now.\"\n\nThe guard had a bunch of keys attached to his belt. He removed one key and shakily handed it over. \"That's the master key. It'll get you into the corridor and open all the cell doors.\"\n\n\"Which corridor are they in?\"\n\n\"The East Corridor - that one.\" The guard pointed through the wrap-around window.\n\nDavidson looked at Frank Hamelin. \"Watch this guy. Tie him up, if you can.\"\n\n\"I can shoot him.\"\n\n\"Just tie him up. Malloy, come with me.\"\nDavidson slung his rifle, trotted down some steps and used the master key to pass through two iron-grill gates. He ran along the East Corridor, scanning the numbers. Desperate prisoners hammered their solid metal cell doors and wanted to know what was happening.\n\nThey reached Helen's cell first. Davidson turned the key in the lock and opened the door.\n\nMalloy extended a greedy hand. \"Give me the key, give it to me.\"\n\nDavidson handed it over and Malloy scampered along the corridor to rescue his son.\n\nDavidson peered into the gloomy cell. A human shape sat on a bed. \"Helen, that you?\"\n\nA terrified voice. \"My God, Carl?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm getting you out of here. Come on. Hurry.\"\n\nShe stumbled into the light, wearing a gray inmate uniform, blinking hard and looking bewildered. Big bruises covered her face. \"You're getting me out?\"\n\n\"Yes, come on.\"\n\nHe took her shaking hand and they jogged back towards the control room. He looked over his shoulder. Malloy and a string bean with a heavy beard, wearing an inmate uniform, were about 30 yards behind.\n\nDavidson stopped at the first iron-grill gate, with Helen, and waited for Malloy to reach him. \"Give me the key.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Give it to me.\"\n\nMalloy complied and continued into the control room with his son.\n\nDavidson handed Helen his rifle. \"Wait here.\"\n\nHe opened the closest five cell doors in less than a minute. An emaciated guy cautiously stepped from the first one. Davidson soon recognized him. He was once the Chief of Staff of the High Command. The last time Davidson saw him, a few months ago, he stood on a dais in the full-dress uniform watching a brigade of troops parade past. When the Alliance attacked, he was in bed with his mistress and nobody could contact him. He arrived back at headquarters just in time to get captured. In other words, he spent his whole life preparing for one battle and missed it. Now, he looked at Davidson with some of his old hauteur. \"What the fuck's going on?\"\n\nDavidson pressed the master key into his hand. \"You're being rescued. Open the other cells. You'll need support. There are rifles in the control room. Understand? Fight or die. Your choice.\"\n\n\"Who the fuck're you?\"\n\n\"A friend. Get busy.\"\n\nA couple more prisoners emerged from their cells as Davidson raced back to Helen and grabbed her hand. \"Come on.\"\n\nHe led her up to the control room, where Malloy and Hamelin stood with the chalk-white Albert. The chunky guard lay face down on the floor, blood pouring from a head wound.\n\nFrank Hamelin shrugged. \"He'll live, I think.\"\n\nDavidson saw through a window that a prisoner was opening cell doors and released prisoners were drifting towards them.\n\nShooting erupted in the corridor outside. Tex and Derek must have encountered Alliance fighters returning from the front gate. \"Time to go.\"\n\nDavidson stepped out of the side door and saw Tex and Derek running towards him, panting hard.\n\nTex said: \"We knocked down a couple, but there were plenty behind them.\"\n\n\"OK. Back down the stairs.\"\n\nDavidson hustled Helen and the rest of the group into the stairwell. Several Alliance fighters appeared at the end of the hallway. He stood in the doorway and fired a long burst that knocked over one and made the rest scramble for cover.\n\nHe ducked into the stairwell and found Helen waiting for him.\n\nShe looked more composed. \"You OK?\"\n\n\"Yes, follow the others.\"\n\nThey raced down the stairwell and out into the corridor. The others had already disappeared. They sprinted through the gaping hole into the underground passage. He turned on his flashlight and led her to the guardhouse. Still no sign of the others.\n\nOutside the guardhouse, the sky was a pre-dawn gray. The horizon had a golden rim. Davidson led Helen through the wire tunnels running between the factories towards the front entrance. A couple of times, they glimpsed blurry shapes - Malloy's group - ahead of them. The gunfire outside had died away. The diversionary party must have fled.\n\nDavidson reached the heavy gates at the main entrance and peered out. Malloy and his party were crossing the road. Davidson was about to follow when a couple of jeeps, coming from the Maximum Security Unit, roared towards them. Alliance fighters standing in the jeeps opened fire on the fugitives, caught in the open.\n\nFortunately for the fugitives, Frank Hamelin was a bodyguard who knew his job. Instead of running, he crouched and calmly returned fire. His comrades stopped and copied him. Tex Milgram was shot and went down. However, both jeeps spun off the road and crashed. Malloy bent over Milgram and saw he was dead.\n\nA couple of open trucks, laden with Alliance fighters, left the Unit and raced towards them. Malloy rose and rushed after his group. They crossed an open space and disappeared into a wooded area. The trucks stopped. Dozens of Alliance fighters leaped out and chased the fugitives.\n\nDavidson wondered where the hell the new batch of fighters came from. They were not regular guards at the Unit. They obviously turned up out of nowhere and gave the diversionary party a nasty surprise. Malloy promised those guys they would stay alive. That promise was looking very hollow.\n\nThe next vehicle to arrive was a jeep with a driver and a man in the back. It stopped near the empty trucks and the man climbed out. The chintzy light made it difficult to pick out his features. However, Davidson focused hard and saw he was Colonel Maxwell, the main offsider of Secretary Monroe.\n\nHelen whispered. \"Bastard.\"\n\n\"You've met him?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nDavidson was about to seek details when Maxwell's walkie-talkie squawked. After talking to the caller, Maxwell called someone else and had a barking conversation. He holstered his walkie-talkie and leaned against the jeep with crossed arms.\n\nThe Alliance fighters chasing Malloy's group soon started streaming out of the wooded area and headed back towards the trucks. Maxwell blew a whistle several times and yelled: \"Get on-board; get on-board.\"\n\nWhen everyone was aboard, the trucks raced back towards the front gate of the Unit. The jeep, with Maxwell in the back, followed them.\n\nHelen said: \"What the hell is going on?\"\n\nHeavy gunfire had erupted inside the Unit. \"I think the prisoners we released are trying to break out. Come on, let's get out of here.\"\n\nThey raced across the road, across the open space and into the wooded area. No sign of Malloy and his gang. It looked like they escaped.\n\nThe shooting inside the Unit grew in intensity as they circled around to the stolen truck. Davidson was glad he did not have to fight a group of prisoners who knew that to surrender meant death.\n\nThe truck was parked in an alley between two buildings. He approached it cautiously and saw no threats. He got behind the wheel and signaled for Helen to join him, which she did.\n\nHis first priority was to put plenty of distance between them and the Webster City Penitentiary. He drove for about two miles and parked beside a disused factory.\n\nHe turned to her. The facial bruising made him angry. \"We're safe now. You OK?\"\n\nTears rolled down her cheeks and her hands trembled. \"Not really. I was terrified. I thought I was going to die in there. That guy we saw, Colonel Maxwell, turned up yesterday. He kept asking where you were and I said I didn't know - which was true.\"\n\n\"He hit you?\"\n\n\"One of his men did. Then, he said that, if I didn't tell him where you were, he'd shoot me.\" A wry smile. \"You never expect to hear that. It was horrible.\"\n\n\"I'm sure it was. When did you speak to Maxwell?\"\n\n\"Yesterday. Then, he went away, but said he was coming back.\"\n\nMaxwell must have returned that morning, with a big escort of Alliance fighters, and stumbled upon Davidson and Malloy busting into the Unit. After polishing off the diversionary party, he was now battling a prison uprising.\n\nDavidson said: \"Thank God I got you out.\"\n\n\"Yes, though you shouldn't have.\"\n\n\"Shouldn't have what?\"\n\n\"Rescued me.\"\n\nThat surprised him. \"Why not?\"\n\n\"It was too dangerous. You should be dead right now. I can't believe you got away with it.\"\n\nDavidson did not want to think about what might have gone wrong. Then, he would get scared. A shrug. \"Well, I did.\"\n\nShe put her head on his chest and sobbed for a minute.\n\nHe put an arm around her. \"What's wrong?\"\n\nHer body stopped shaking and she wiped away her tears. \"It's just that ... just that ... nobody's ever done anything like that for me before - nobody. I mean, I thought you liked me, but I also thought you'd get on with your life. I didn't think you'd go crazy and try to save me.\"\n\n\"Forget it. In fact, I really did it for myself.\"\n\nShe looked puzzled. \"Really?\"\n\nHe felt more nervous than when he burst into the Unit. \"Yeah. My life would have been pointless without you. I was more afraid of losing you than getting killed, believe me.\"\n\nShe smiled and cried some more. \"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.\"\n\n\"It's the truth.\"\n\nShe wiped away her tears. \"How come you're still alive? Maxwell set up an ambush at the safe house.\"\n\n\"I know. It didn't work.\"\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\nDavidson explained how he sprung the trap.\n\nShe laughed. \"You're a survivor, aren't you?\"\n\n\"I stay alert.\"\n\n\"Who were the guys who helped you break into the Unit? Where did they come from?\"\n\nHe explained how he stumbled upon Malloy surveilling the Unit, and joined forces with him and his gang. \"I wouldn't normally choose them as allies; they were the only option.\"\n\nShe sat up straight. \"So, what do we do now?\"\n\n\"We lie low for a few days to recover our strength and make some plans.\"\n\n\"Where do we do that?\"\n\nDavidson had already planned that step. \"My family home, up north.\"\n\n\"Is it nice?\"\n\n\"Very nice.\"\n\nCHAPTER TEN\n\nCarl Davidson's parents were high school teachers who did not have to live in a shoddy apartment building like most of the City's middle class. An ancestor of Carl's father was powerful and wealthy enough to build a large bungalow for himself in a leafy area at the northern tip of the City. The bungalow remained in the family until Carl's father inherited it. That was where he and his wife raised their two sons.\n\nCarl was the more disciplined and law-abiding of the two boys. He studied hard at school and was an active member of the City Pioneers. After completing his compulsory military service, he joined the Internal Security Bureau and quickly rose through the ranks. However, his younger brother, Ted, was a rebel who itched to escape the City. He often boasted to his brother about the different places on the globe he would visit. While undertaking his compulsory military service, Ted was assigned to the Air Cavalry. He disappeared during a raid in Kansas. The Air Cav reported him dead, though his body was never found. Carl always wondered if he staged his death to escape the City, but was never able to find out.\n\nTheir parents died in a motor accident a few years before Ted disappeared. Then, when Ted \"died\", Carl became the sole owner of the bungalow. To escape the sad memories it evoked, he rented it out and moved elsewhere. He kept renting it out until, a year ago, the last tenant left. It had been vacant since then.\n\nDavidson knew that, if he and Helen used it as a hideout, he would stir up sad memories of his parents and mull over his brother's disappearance. However, the bungalow was an ideal place to lie low and plot their next move. So, he put aside his misgivings and took her there.\n\nTo reach it, he drove the truck along a dark road hugging the Lake. The headlights picked up no other traffic. After turning inland, he headed through a small pine forest and soon reached a cul de sac with eight homes spread around it. No lights in the home. They either had no power or their occupants had fled.\n\nHe parked a hundred yards from his family home and turned to Helen. \"Stay here while I check it out.\"\n\n\"I want to go with you.\"\n\n\"Not this time. I know this area; you don't. Sit behind the wheel in case we have to make a quick escape.\"\n\nA shrug. \"OK.\"\n\nHe climbed out. The air was chilly. His family home was near the end of the cul de sac. He pulled out his pistol and edged up the driveway; he spotted a chink of light in a window and his heart thumped. Someone was inside. Hopefully, just a squatter.\n\nHe pulled out his keys, opened the back door and carefully slipped into the kitchen. Moonlight fell through a large window. His eyes quickly adjusted and he edged into a hallway. Flickering light spilled out of the living room. He slid towards it, pistol extended, hoping no floorboard creaked. He still suspected the intruder was a squatter. But these were dangerous times and he would take no chances.\n\nHe stopped just outside the living room and heard the crackle of wood burning in the fireplace. The intruder had made himself at home. He stepped into the living room, pistol ready.\n\nA man sat on a couch facing a roaring fire, reading a book.\n\nDavidson pointed his pistol. \"Don't move.\"\n\nThe guy turned, startled. The fire gave his wizened face a spectral glow. He looked oddly familiar. Where had Davidson seen him before? His heart flipped. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"Hello, Carl.\"\n\nWhen Davidson last saw his brother, 18 years ago, Ted was tall and athletic, with a flashing smile. He would be 37 now, if alive. This guy had obviously had a hard life - a Badlands life - and looked over 50. But his ravaged features, voice and movements all carried the imprint of Ted.\n\nDavidson's blood thinned and he struggled for balance. Was he dreaming? Would this guy suddenly evaporate? \"Ted?\"\n\nA rictus smile. \"Yep, it's me. It's great to see you again, Carl - unbelievable.\"\n\nDavidson took a couple of quick strides and threw his arms around his brother, almost crushing him. Tears gushed and his voice quivered: \"I thought you were dead; I thought you were dead ...\"\n\nThe brothers hugged and sobbed for almost a minute. Davidson realized the disappearance of Ted poked a huge hole in his soul that never closed up. It would expand for a while before starting to contract.\n\nTed stepped back and wiped away tears. \"I'm hard to kill.\"\n\n\"You must be. What happened to you? The Air Cav said you died during a raid in Kansas.\"\n\n\"But they never found my body, did they? I actually deserted. I was young and crazy and had to bust out of this city. It was killing me: it was like a prison.\"\n\n\"You should have told me you planned to desert.\"\n\n\"You wouldn't have understood. You were a troop leader in the City Pioneers - part of the system - and believed everything you were told. You might have reported me.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't have done that,\" Davidson said, without conviction. Back then, he was committed to the City and its mission. That attitude died hard.\n\n\"Really? Hey, I loved you, Carl, I really did. You were my brilliant older brother. But the City brainwashed you, like everyone else. Anyway, the final straw came when I was drafted into the Air Cav. We kept shooting up Outlaw villages and Alliance bases for no good reason. I couldn't keep doing that and decided to desert. My big chance came when we attacked an Alliance camp in Kansas. The copters touched down and we all spread out. My squad chased some Alliance fighters into a forest. I slid away and disappeared. Nobody tried to find me. The fighters counter-attacked and my buddies hauled their asses out of there.\"\n\n\"You should have told me you were still alive.\"\n\nA shrug. \"How? Who could I send? Who would you believe? I wanted you to think I was dead and get on with your life. It's the hope that kills you in the end; I wanted to destroy any hope.\"\n\n\"I always had hope - not a lot, but some.\"\n\nTears returned. \"I'm sorry about that, I really am. Then, when I heard the Alliance had captured the City, something snapped inside me and I had to see you again, no matter what. I didn't realize how hard it would be to find you. The City's in chaos. So, I came out here, to see the house again and see if you were staying here.\"\n\nDavidson wanted to be angry with his brother for hiding his survival for 18 years, but could not extract that emotion. Elation buried it. \"Well, you've found me now. So, tell me, what happened to you, after you deserted?\"\n\nA rueful smile. \"I realized, damn fast, that I made a big mistake. I thought the Badlands was a land of milk-and-honey, and the Alliance would welcome me with open arms. Boy, I was dumb. Some Alliance fighters captured me and wanted to shoot me as a spy. They calmed down and handed me over to a farmer who basically used me as a slave for a few years. His huge dogs would have torn me to pieces if I tried to escape. But we slowly developed a strange friendship and he helped me set up my own place. I've got a small ranch with about 200 cattle, next to a river. It's a beautiful place. I hope it's still there when I get back.\"\n\nTed's worn features and cracked teeth testified that his life in the Badlands was tough.\n\nDavidson said: \"Much radiation in the area?\"\n\n\"No, Geigers are pretty quiet around there.\"\n\n\"Any neighbors?\"\n\n\"Yeah, there are plenty of other ranches and a town called Two Forks with about 600 people. It's already got three churches and two bars. I go there to exchange cattle for supplies.\"\n\n\"Is the area dangerous?\"\n\n\"Hah, everywhere in the Badlands is dangerous. Most of my neighbors are good folk. But there are lots of bad guys prowling around. My house is a fortress, I never go out at night and I always carry a rifle. In the Badlands, nothing happens until it happens. It's also a terrible place to get sick: no hospitals and no qualified doctors - just quacks selling flavored water. People get old fast and die fast.\" Ted looked sad. \"I was married to a woman called Bernice for ten years. She fell sick one day and died the next. That was a year ago.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to hear that.\"\n\nHe looked sad. \"She couldn't read or write, and cussed all the time, but she looked after me.\"\n\nDavidson considered fetching Helen, sitting in the truck outside, but was too mesmerized to move. \"So, you drove up here from Kansas?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I drove a jeep. It's parked in the garage out the back. It was a tough trip. The City patched up bits of the highway for its military convoys; the rest is a shambles. I'm amazed we made it.\"\n\n\"We?\"\n\n\"Yes, I came with Philip.\"\n\n\"Who's Philip?\"\n\n\"He's my son, sort of; he turned up on my doorstep when he was about five. I've looked after him ever since.\" Ted gazed over Davidson's shoulder and Davidson realized there was someone else in the house. His skin crawled. Ted said: \"Philip, I know you're out there, listening. Come in and meet my brother, Carl.\"\n\nDavidson spun around. After a few seconds, a slim kid - maybe 16 or 17 - stepped into the living room. He had curly golden hair and angular features. But what struck Davidson was his clothes. He wore the plaid shirt, jeans, snakeskin boots and holstered revolver of a western cowboy. Davidson almost giggled.\n\nTed looked at Davidson. \"Let me introduce Philip. Like I said, he's kinda like my son. He turned up at my house when he was about five, looking terrified. He still hasn't said much about where he came from. I think his family belonged to a community of sun worshippers that lived nearby. Someone tattooed a big sun on his back. Who the hell would do that to a kid? Anyway, a tribe of cannibals called 'The Dog People' wiped out the community. Only Philip escaped. He obviously went through hell. In fact, for the first six months I looked after him, he didn't say a word - not a peep. I'm still the only person he trusts.\"\n\nDavidson: \"That's a strange tale.\"\n\n\"There are lots of strange tales out there.\"\n\nDavidson looked at Philip. \"Hello.\"\n\nA suspicious stare. \"Howdy.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Why are you dressed as a cowboy?\"\n\nA scowl. \"I'm not a cowboy, I'm a gunfighter.\"\n\n\"OK, why are you a gunfighter?\"\n\nTed interrupted. \"When he was a kid, I read him a lot of western stories. Then, he saw a couple of Hollywood westerns on VHS and was hooked. Now, he sorta pretends he's a gunfighter. Where we come from, nobody notices. Everybody pretends to be someone else. That's how they survive out there. Philip went through hell as a kid. I think he figures that, if he's a gunfighter, he can always protect himself.\"\n\nDavidson was only slightly surprised. The Badlands was a hellish wasteland with no society or history. Outlaws had a huge incentive to embed themselves in a different world. This kid obviously decided to imitate a mythical breed he found in novels and movies. The interesting question was whether he pretended to be a gunfighter or really thought he was one.\n\nDavidson smiled at Philip. \"Nothing wrong with that.\"\n\nTed said: \"Philip practices a lot with his revolver. He's quick on the draw.\"\n\nDavidson looked at him. \"Show me.\"\n\nPhilip was more than quick. His Colt revolver suddenly materialized in his hand. Davidson almost gasped.\n\nAfter a childish smile, Philip holstered his revolver almost as fast. \"What do you think?\"\n\nDavidson said: \"You're very quick.\"\n\nA pleased expression. \"I reckon I can draw against the drop and live.\"\n\n\"Really? Nobody's that fast.\"\n\n\"I am.\"\n\n\"You won't be so quick when someone's pointing a gun at you. You won't be shooting at tin cans in a yard.\"\n\n\"So what?\"\n\n\"You'll be afraid.\"\n\nA disdainful expression. \"No, I won't.\"\n\n\"It's also hard to take someone's life.\"\n\nA puzzled expression. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Killing is a big taboo. Lots of people can't do it.\"\n\nA shrug. \"I can.\"\n\nOnly time would tell if the kid was the real deal or a carnival act. Davidson recalled that Helen was waiting outside. He didn't want her to stumble into the house and get shot by Billy the Kid.\n\nDavidson looked at Ted. \"I came here with someone. She's waiting outside. I'd better get her. I won't be long.\"\n\n\"Who is she? Your wife?\"\n\n\"No. I am married, but that's over. She's, umm, someone I like.\"\n\n\"A lot?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nA crooked smile. \"Then I'd like to meet her. Bring her in.\"\n\nDavidson left the house through the kitchen and wandered down to the truck. The meeting with Ted had left him weak and dazed. Helen was hunched behind the steering wheel. He looked at her through the side window.\n\nShe looked annoyed. \"Where have you been?\"\n\n\"Inside the house. I met someone I know.\"\n\n\"Really? Who?\"\n\nA deep breath. \"Umm, my brother, Ted.\" The words sounded strange.\n\nShe paused for several beats, hunting for the joke. \"But he's dead.\"\n\n\"Not anymore.\"\n\n\"Holy shit. You're serious?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Wow. You must be very happy.\"\n\nHe put a hand on the door to steady himself. \"I am. Happy and shocked; shocked and happy. Maybe I've gone crazy and this is all a dream.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, you're awake \\- I promise.\"\n\n\"I hope you're right.\"\n\n\"How come he's still alive?\"\n\n\"He deserted during the raid in Kansas. Now, he owns a ranch down there. When the City fell, he came back to find me.\"\n\nShe smiled. \"That's lovely.\"\n\n\"Anyway, the ghost inside the house wants to meet you. Come inside.\"\n\n\"Will do.\"\n\n\"Oh, and he's got someone with him.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Philip. I think he's about 16 or 17. Ted adopted him when he was about five.\"\n\n\"Wow.\"\n\n\"And, I should warn you: Philip acts like a gunfighter and dresses like one.\"\n\n\"A gunfighter?\"\n\n\"Yep, and he's very quick on the draw.\"\n\nShe pushed open the driver-side door and descended to the street. \"I've gotta see this.\"\n\nHe led her up the driveway and through the kitchen into the living room. Maybe his meeting with Ted and Philip was a delusional episode and the living room would be deserted. No, they were still there, standing in front of the fireplace.\n\nDavidson nodded towards his brother. \"Helen, meet Ted.\"\n\nHelen and Ted smiled and nervously shook hands. She said: \"Very pleased to meet you. Carl has told me a lot about you. This is an amazing moment. He's very happy right now.\"\n\n\"So am I.\" Ted nodded towards the gunfighter. \"Helen, this is Philip. I've looked after him since he was five which, I guess, makes him my son. And, yes, he reckons he's a gunfighter.\"\n\nHelen smiled and shook hands with Philip, who clicked his snake-skin boots together. \"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am.\"\n\nTed smiled. \"He gets his manners from the movies, not me.\"\n\nShe looked puzzled. \"Oh.\"\n\nDavidson looked at his brother. \"We've got a lot to discuss. Let's sit at the kitchen table.\"\n\nHelen stepped back. \"Maybe you two should talk alone.\"\n\nTed shook his head. \"No, come with us. You'll stop us getting too sentimental. I want to get to know you, anyway.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"OK.\"\n\nDavidson and Ted each picked up a lamp and led the other two into the kitchen. They put the lamps on the large laminated table and everyone sat around it. Philip sat backwards on his chair, as if riding a horse.\n\nThe lamps highlighted Ted's sallow complexion and the rings around his eyes. His worn appearance summed up the different trajectories the two brothers' lives had taken. He had already coughed several times into his fist.\n\nTed glanced around at the kitchen. \"I loved this house until Mum and Dad died. Then, I hated it. I thought you'd sell it.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"I thought about doing that, but couldn't let it go. I rented it out for a long time. The last tenant left about a year ago and it's been empty since. If I knew you were alive, I'd have put aside for you some of the rent.\"\n\nA wan smile. \"Wouldn't have mattered. Money's worthless now.\"\n\n\"True.\" Davidson paused. \"You know, after the City told me you were dead, I kept thinking of everything I should have told you when you were alive and didn't.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\nA laugh. \"I've forgotten now.\"\n\n\"If you remember, let me know.\"\n\n\"I will. You always said that you wanted to explore the world. Have you done that?\"\n\nHe laughed. \"Nope. I've been too busy surviving. For instance, I always wanted to stand on a beach and look at an ocean. I haven't even done that. But I've seen lots of interesting things.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"For a start, there are more people in the Badlands - on the planet, in fact - than you think. A few years ago, olive-skinned people started arriving in Kansas from the south. They talk a funny language and look damn scared. They're running away from something down there - something bad.\"\n\n\"They got much technology?'\n\n\"No. They ride horses and travel in small groups. Some have guns; some just bows and arrows.\"\n\nDavidson had always suspected that, after the Great Plague, small pockets of humanity survived around the world and formed primitive tribes. However, Ted's revelation was a jolt.\n\nTed said. \"That's not all. I've got a short-wave radio on my ranch. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I've heard people speak Chinese.\"\n\n\"Chinese? Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I've heard people speak Chinese in Hollywood movies. The guys on the radio sounded just the same.\"\n\n\"Where did the signals come from?\"\n\n\"Don't know. But my radio can pick up transmissions from as far as China. I bet that, one day, someone will sail across the Pacific and get a big shock.\" Ted coughed again into his fist. \"That's enough about me. What about you? A few years ago, I spoke to a guy who fled the City. He said you were a major in the ISB. That true?\"\n\n\"That's right.\" He explained how he rose through the ranks of the ISB and was in the front-line of the fight against the Alliance. \"It was not a pretty war. I did a lot of things I regret.\"\n\n\"If you were in the ISB, why are you still alive?\"\n\n\"You mean, why didn't the Alliance shoot me?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nA rueful smile. \"Because, in the end, I betrayed the City.\"\n\nAn amazed expression. \"Seriously?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nDavidson described how he started having serious doubts about the City when his boss at the ISB, Colonel Prentice, discovered that Alexander Webster was not a brilliant biochemist who saved mankind. Webster was, in fact, a vicious white supremacist preacher who released a super-virus that annihilated humanity, except for a small group of his followers, whom he had vaccinated.\n\nTed's eyes widened. \"Wow. I always thought Alexander Webster was a phony of some kind and didn't know why. Now I do. He was pure evil. Yet, everybody in this city treated him like a god. One of the best things about being in the Badlands was that, after a while, I stopped thinking about him. When I was here, I thought about him ten times a day; out there, he didn't count. I went for weeks without thinking about him. That was wonderful.\"\n\n\"I hope I can forget about him.\"\n\n\"You will. He will slowly disappear. So, is that why you betrayed the City?\"\n\n\"That was one of the reasons. But there was a much bigger one.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nDavidson explained how the last Chancellor, Joshua Webster, tried emulated Alexander Webster and release a super-virus to destroy the Alliance. \"Only his closest supporters, who he had vaccinated, would have survived.\"\n\n\"Christ. And you stopped him?\"\n\n\"Yes, with the help of Colonel Prentice and Helen here. In fact, the Colonel shot Joshua Webster dead in his office.\"\n\n\"In other words, the three of you saved us all - including me - from extinction.\"\n\nA smile. \"That's a fair assessment.\"\n\n\"I'm proud of you. I always thought you'd do the right thing when it counted.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\"And that's why you're still alive?\"\n\n\"Yes. The Alliance gave me a reprieve, for a short while, anyway.\"\n\n\"A short while?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's been withdrawn.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nDavidson described how he was summoned to see Secretary Monroe, who claimed that Isaiah Webster had stolen the super-virus. However, Davidson quickly made an enemy of Monroe and saved Commander Solon from assassination. Then, Monroe seized Helen and he had to rescue her from the Maximum Security Unit.\n\nTed giggled. \"You're good at making enemies, aren't you?\"\n\n\"It's my specialty. That's why Helen and I came up here - to lie low and work out how to recover the super-virus.\"\n\n\"You think you can recover it?\"\n\n\"I've got no idea.\"\nCHAPTER ELEVEN\n\nDavidson and Ted chatted deep into the night, mostly reminiscing about their childhoods, which they had to admit were unusually happy and did not excuse anything they did later. Helen and Philip wandered off after about an hour, but they kept talking. Only at 3 a.m. did they finally hug and go to bed.\n\nDavidson found Helen sleeping, in her clothes, on a dusty bed in a spare bedroom. He lay beside her, fully clothed, and soon fell asleep.\n\nHe woke just after dawn and listened to someone coughing in the kitchen. A dark rattle. Sounded like Ted. He quietly rose and padded out there.\n\nHis brother sat at the table, drinking a cup of coffee, staring out at the overgrown back yard.\n\nDavidson said: \"Morning. You don't sleep much?\"\n\nTed spun around. \"Nobody sleeps much in the Badlands.\"\n\n\"Where's Philip?'\n\n\"I don't know. He doesn't sleep much either. He'll be prowling around somewhere.\"\n\n\"Tell me this: is he pretending to be a gunfighter or does he really think he is one?\"\n\nA laugh. \"I think he's pretending. But sometimes he forgets he's pretending. Just don't underestimate him. Most of us get rid of our childhood fantasies. He has pulled them tighter for protection. When put to the test, he will do what a gunfighter has to do - I promise that. I just hope he survives the experience.\"\n\n\"You two are very close, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Yep. I'm basically his father and the only person he trusts. He would kill for me; he would die for me. I'm sure of that. However, I'm afraid we might not be together much longer.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"He's getting itchy feet. He's tired of the ranch. He wants to see the world.\"\n\n\"How do you feel about that?\"\n\n\"I'm not happy. But I'm the last person to complain about itchy feet, aren't I?\"\n\nTed emitted another rattling cough. Davidson was reluctant to ask about his brother's health, lest he hear bad news, but had no choice. \"Are you alright?\"\n\n\"Yes, don't worry.\"\n\nTed coughed hard and a bubble of blood appeared on his lips.\n\nDavidson felt a stab of fear. \"You're not alright. What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"There's blood on your lips.\"\n\nHis brother looked surprised and brushed his lips with the back of his hand. He studied the blood. \"Damn. I was hoping you wouldn't see that.\"\n\n\"What's wrong?\"\n\nA long sigh. \"About six months ago, I started coughing blood. I've read some medical books. I'm pretty sure I've got tuberculosis.\"\n\nTuberculosis. Davidson panicked. Surely, his brother did not rise from the dead only to die again. \"Oh, Christ. Are you getting better?\"\n\nA shake of the head and sad eyes. \"Worse, I'm afraid. I - I - I don't think I've got long. I'm sorry, I should have told you last night, but didn't want to ruin the moment. It meant so much to me.\"\n\n\"What's the cure for tuberculosis?\"\n\n\"The medical books say it's usually treated with antibiotics. I don't have any.\"\n\n\"Then we'll have to find some.\"\n\n\"Don't bother. I'm too far gone. I didn't come here to be cured. I just wanted to see you. I've got to make sure I don't infect you, too.\"\n\n\"I don't care what you want. I'm going to find you a doctor and some antibiotics.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\nDavidson saw only one option. \"Webster Central Hospital.\"\n\n\"It's still open?\"\n\n\"I've heard the Alliance kept open a couple of wards to treat wounded fighters. There must be a few doctors still on duty.\"\n\n\"But Secretary Monroe and most of the Alliance are hunting for you. They want you dead.\"\n\n\"So what?\"\n\n\"You turn up at Webster Central, they'll kill you.\"\n\n\"They can try. It won't be easy.\"\n\n\"It's too risky.\"\n\n\"Stop arguing. I'm taking you there. End of story. Let's get everyone ready.\"\n\nA crooked grin. \"You always were pushy.\"\n\n\"Yes, and I'm getting worse.\"\n\nCHAPTER TWELVE\n\nThirty minutes later, Davidson drove the truck away from the bungalow and headed towards Webster General Hospital. He made Philip sit in the front cabin, where he could observe him. Ted and Helen sat in the back under the tarpaulin canopy.\n\nPhilip still wore his western outfit and looked awestruck at the heft and girth of Webster City, obviously the most incredible place he had ever seen. He said: \"You know, I always dreamed about coming to Webster City and looking around. Too bad it's falling apart.\"\n\n\"It's dying, actually.\"\n\n\"Ted says you were an important man - sort of like a cop - before the Alliance arrived.\"\n\n\"I had a high rank.\"\n\n\"He says you killed a lot of people.\"\n\nDavidson was annoyed. \"I killed some; I had no choice.\"\n\n\"How many did you kill?\"\n\nDavidson was now angry. \"Do you know what 'impertinent' means?\"\n\n\"I think so.\"\n\n\"Well, your question is impertinent.\"\n\n\"You mean, you don't want to answer it?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"OK, OK. Sorry I asked.\"\n\n\"Good. Killing people is not fun. If you think it's fun, there's something very wrong with you. Do you understand?\"\n\nThe kid looked a little chastened. \"Yes.\"\n\nDavidson wanted to change the topic. \"Ted said you like watching western movies?\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"What's your favorite?\"\n\n\"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, though I ain't seen the end.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"The tape was broke. Do ya know what happens?\"\n\nDavidson watched the movie \\- the whole movie - ten years ago. In the end, the heroes were shot dead in Bolivia. He did not want to disappoint the kid. \"Afraid not. I don't watch many movies.\"\n\nA shrug. \"Too bad. I'll find out, one day.\"\n\nPhilip started whistling 'Raindrops keep falling on my head'. Davidson wanted to explain that Hollywood invented that song and real gunfighters didn't sing it. However, that would shake the kid's fantasy world, which was all he had. Ted had said that, when the chips were down, Philip would behave like a gunfighter. Davidson reckoned Ted was biased. In a crisis, the kid would be useless.\n\nThe truck slid down off Pasteur Expressway and turned onto Lister Boulevard.\n\nPhilip said: \"How're we gonna get into the hospital and get Ted treated?\"\n\nDavidson had spent the journey pondering that question. \"We'll sneak in a back way and wander around until we find a doctor.\"\n\nPhilip frowned. \"I think we should shoot our way through the front entrance.\"\n\nHe obviously didn't pay attention to Davidson's earlier sermon. \"I want to avoid any shooting, if possible.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"It's noisy and we could get killed.\"\n\n\"That won't happen.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I'm too quick.\"\n\n\"Really? That sort of attitude will get you killed.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"It'll make you lazy and stupid. You'll get into bad situations and expect your gun will bail you out - it won't.\"\n\n\"Yes, it will.\"\n\nDavidson sighed. It was like talking to a brick wall. \"Suit yourself. But, while you're with me, you'll do what you're told, understand?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Philip said glibly.\n\nDavidson wondered why he was lecturing Philip. That was not his job. Davidson also wondered if Ted brought Philip to the City because he hoped that, after he died, Davidson would assume a parental role. Surely, Ted was not that sneaky. Or was he?\n\nWebster General Hospital was a huge block of water-stained concrete squatting in the middle of an enormous car park, now deserted. Every window was dark. However, the doors of the Emergency Department were open and several heavily-armed Alliance fighters stood guard outside them. The fighters paid little attention to the truck as it drove past.\n\nDavidson circled around to the opposite side of the building and found no activity. He drove past huge mounds of rubbish exhaling a fetid odor and squeezed into a loading dock where, hopefully, nobody would notice the truck.\n\nHe and Philip climbed into the back of the truck to join Helen and Ted.\n\nHelen said: \"What's the plan?\"\n\nHe picked up an Alliance combat smock, lying on the floor, and donned it. \"Simple, Ted and I will go into the hospital and prowl around until we find a doctor who'll examine him.\"\n\n\"Do you want me to go with you?\"\n\n\"No. Someone has to stay and keep an eye on the truck. I think you and Philip should do that.\"\n\nPhilip frowned. \"No, I'm going with you.\"\n\n\"Do what you're told.\"\n\n\"No, I'm going.\"\n\nDavidson had worried that, if he took Philip, the kid would be a burden. He now decided it was smarter to keep an eye on him. \"Alright, you can come along.\"\n\n\"I can?\"\n\n\"Yes. As long as you do what you're told.\"\n\nA disarming smile. \"Sure.\"\n\n\"Good. You going to take a rifle?\"\n\nPhilip patted his holstered Colt .44. \"Nah, this'll be enough.\"\n\nDavidson was relieved the kid would not be waving a rifle around. \"Your call.\" He looked at Helen. \"Don't wait in the truck. Find somewhere close to hide and keep an eye on it.\"\n\n\"Will do.\"\n\nThe three men climbed out of the truck, Davidson and Ted with rifles, and looked around for a way into the hospital building. It didn't take them long to find one. The first door that Davidson tried to open was unlocked. He stepped through it and turned on his flashlight. \"Follow me.\"\n\nThe hospital had a maze of endless corridors that would be difficult to navigate when the lighting system was working. Doing it with a flashlight was tortuous work. They stumbled along corridors, and up and down stairs, for almost an hour until they heard squeaky human voices.\n\nDavidson headed towards them. They got louder until he reached a door with light escaping under it. He gently turned the door handle. Unlocked. He eased himself into a long ward lined with Alliance fighters on beds. Their injuries ranged from severe to horrific. No guards, thank God. They were obviously stationed outside the front entrance of the hospital. Three female nurses in dirty uniforms were moving about.\n\nDavidson reminded himself that his Alliance uniform entitled him to enter the ward. A tall, thin nurse was changing a shoulder bandage. Davidson strutted over to her, his companions trailing behind, and barked like he was still a major in the Internal Security Bureau. \"Where is the doctor?\"\n\nThe nurse looked desperately tired. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"Captain Thomas McGuire from Secretary Monroe's personal detail.\" Davidson pointed at Ted. \"This man is a close friend of the Secretary who needs treatment. The Secretary ordered me to bring him here.\"\n\n\"Did you go to the Emergency Department?\"\n\n\"Of course, and they sent me here.\"\n\nShe frowned and shook her head. \"They shouldn't have done that.\"\n\nHe increased the iron in his tone. \"Where is the doctor?\"\n\nShe frowned and pointed towards a corridor at the end of the ward. \"Go down that corridor to Doctor Starling's office.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nDavidson led his group down the corridor until he saw a nameplate that said: 'Doctor Starling'. He knocked on the door.\n\nA grumpy voice. \"Come in.\"\n\nDavidson pushed open the door and led his party into a large book-lined room. A tall, weary man in a white coat sat at a desk scrawling on a pad.\n\nWhen a major in the ISB, Davidson often visited the hospital to visit wounded comrades or captured Alliance fighters. He met this doctor several times during those excursions and prayed the guy did not remember him.\n\nThe doctor glanced at each face, then focused on Davidson. \"Hello, I'm Doctor Starling. Who are you?\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Captain Thomas McGuire. I'm an aide to Secretary Monroe.\"\n\nThe doctor stared hard. \"Really? We've met before, haven't we?\"\n\nDavidson played dumb. \"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Yes, we have. You were a major in the ISB. I've forgotten your name.\"\n\nDavidson found the guy's directness rather amusing. Most people who realized he was an imposter would have kept quiet. But doctors tended to be no-nonsense; the facts were the facts. And maybe this guy was too tired and depressed to fear for his safety.\n\nDavidson smiled. \"You probably met my twin brother who did work for the ISB.\"\n\nA dry chuckle and knowing smile. \"Yes, of course, that makes sense. But, out of curiosity, how did you get into the hospital?\"\n\n\"Through a loading dock. We thought it was the main entrance.\"\n\n\"Hah. Anyway, how can I help?\"\n\nDavidson nodded towards Ted. \"This is my brother, Ted. He's very sick. We need a diagnosis.\"\n\n\"He's not an Alliance fighter, is he?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"I'm only supposed to treat Alliance fighters.\"\n\n\"Who told you that?\"\n\n\"The Alliance, of course. That's why there's nobody else in this hospital. They told all the other patients to go home.\"\n\n\"What if they wouldn't leave?\"\n\n\"Most left. They killed the rest.\"\n\n\"Goodness. But you'll examine my brother, right, because you're a good doctor? That's why you're still here.\"\n\n\"I have no idea why I'm still here.\" The doctor sighed and looked at Ted. \"Alright, take a seat and tell me what's wrong.\"\n\nTed sat opposite the doctor and explained his symptoms. When he mentioned coughing blood, the doctor frowned. \"That's not good.\"\n\nThe doctor put an oxygen mask over Ted's face and turned on the flow. Ted's cheeks grew a little brighter and his coughing softened.\n\nAfter using his stethoscope to take soundings of Ted's chest, the doctor stepped back. \"I'd normally take blood and sputum samples, but there's nobody in the lab to run the tests. However, I'm fairly sure you've got advanced \\- very advanced - tuberculosis. Your lungs are in terrible condition. The normal treatment would be to take an antibiotic called 'Azopart' for six to nine months. There's no guarantee that would work, of course, but it would be the best hope. However, I'm afraid I have no Azopart.\"\n\nDavidson felt a chill. \"None at all?\"\n\n\"None. We ran out three weeks ago. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Can you get your hands on some?\"\n\n\"No. The Center for Disease Control used to manufacture it. That's now a smoking ruin.\"\n\n\"Someone must have some; there must be a black market somewhere.\"\n\n\"I haven't heard of one.\"\n\n\"Is there another antibiotic Ted can take?\"\n\n\"The second-best option is an antibiotic called 'Silopan'. It's very effective in some cases. But I don't have that either. In fact, I've got no antibiotics at all. That's why a lot of the fighters outside are not going to make it. I'm sorry.\"\n\nTed stood and gave Davidson a sad look. \"I said there was no point trying to save me.\"\n\nDavidson shook his head. \"You're not dead yet.\"\n\nTed looked at the doctor. \"Am I infectious?\"\n\n\"Yes. The danger is not high. But you can spread the disease. You should avoid physical contact and sharing small rooms or food.\"\n\nTed looked at Davidson. \"I don't want to infect the rest of you.\"\n\nDavidson ignored him and looked at the doctor. \"If we find some Azopart or Silopan, how often should he take it?\"\n\n\"Give him 10 milligrams a day for nine months, at least. He should feel a lot better after a couple of weeks and stop being infectious. But you must give it to him for at least nine months to kill off any underlying infection.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nThe doctor shrugged. \"I'm sorry I can't do more. It's too bad your brother doesn't need a flu vaccine. We could give him that.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\nA wry smile. \"Yes. Secretary Monroe sent over several boxes of flu shots last week. Alliance people keep turning up to get one. I don't know why they're all so worried about catching the flu. There are much bigger dangers right now.\"\n\nDavidson was stunned. The vaccine used to combat the Agent Pandora super-virus was disguised as a flu shot. It looked like Monroe, not Isaiah Webster, stole the three canisters of Agent Pandora kept at the Center for Disease Control and the vaccine used to ward it off. Monroe was now inoculating his cabal so he could release the super-virus.\n\nMaybe Davidson and his companions should get \"flu\" shots before leaving the hospital. \"Where is the vaccine kept?\"\n\n\"The Alliance keeps it under lock and key in the Emergency Department. It's doled out whenever someone comes in for an injection.\"\n\nIf Davidson wanted to steal some of the vaccine, he would have to overcome the Alliance fighters in the Emergency Department. There were too many. He gave up the idea and looked at the doctor. \"Thank you for your help. We'd better get going. You should come with us.\"\n\n\"No, I'll stay with my patients.\"\n\n\"You sure?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"They're lucky to have you. Good luck.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nDavidson slipped over to the doorway and glanced into the corridor. Vacant. He led the other two out of the office and through the ward lined with Alliance wounded, some now looking apprehensive.\n\nThey had almost reached the far door when someone behind yelled: \"Stop.\"\n\nThey spun around. A heavily bearded Alliance fighter, rifle slung, had entered the ward through a side entrance and was staring at them. The fighter saw their cornered expressions and realised he should have had his rifle ready. A huge mistake. Terror creased his face. He started to unsling it. Too late. Davidson lifted his rifle to take a hip shot. However, before he could, Philip drew his pistol with stunning speed and shot the fighter twice in the chest. The fighter and his rifle tumbled to the floor.\n\nThe wounded quivered on their beds; the nurses disappeared beneath them.\n\nDavidson heard himself say \"Jesus\" and struggled to process what he just saw. He thought Philip was talking hot air when he boasted that he could kill without hesitation. Philip wasn't. The kid was death served in a chilled glass. Ted had said that Philip's gunfighter fantasy made him strong, not weak, and he was right.\n\nDavidson looked at Philip: \"You OK?\"\n\nPhilip holstered his pistol with a trembling hand and licked dry lips. \"Yes, yes, I'm OK.\"\n\n\"You sure?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Good. We'll soon have lots of company. Let's get out of here. Follow me.\"\n\nDavidson led his party into the pitch-black corridor from which they had emerged. He turned on his flashlight and headed through the maze of corridors towards the loading dock. He now better grasped the layout and it only took them ten minutes to reach their destination. Thankfully, the truck was still there and there were no signs of Alliance fighters, yet.\n\nHelen slipped out from behind a large skip bin, holding a rifle, and joined them. \"How did it go?\"\n\nDavidson shrugged. \"Good and bad. Let's get away from here, first. Then, I'll tell you what happened.\"\n\nHelen saw Philip looked a little white. \"You OK?\"\n\nA firm nod. \"Sure, I'm OK.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Everybody in the truck.\"\n\nHe got behind the steering wheel, with Philip beside him, and the other two climbed into the back. He drove straight across the wide car park and through the nearest gate, without encountering any opposition.\n\nDavidson glanced at Philip. \"You were impressive back there - very impressive.\"\n\n\"Thanks. I had no choice.\"\n\n\"You did the right thing. But how do you feel about killing someone?\"\n\nPhilip's lower lip trembled. \"A bit sick, I guess.\"\n\n\"Good. Hold onto that feeling. It's important. And if you want to talk about it, let me know.\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nDavidson had warned Philip that he would not be as quick on the draw when someone else had a gun. He was wrong about that. The kid was blindingly quick in the hospital ward. He obviously had a lot more substance than Davidson realized.\n\nTen minutes later, Davidson parked in a secluded picnic area with a creek running through it. Everybody climbed out and sat around a wooden table beside a brick barbeque, under a willow tree, for a council of war.\n\nDavidson explained to Helen what happened in the hospital ward and she gave Philip a long and curious stare. \"Well done.\"\n\nPhilip had regained some cockiness and shrugged. \"Thanks.\"\n\nTed coughed blood into a handkerchief and looked even grayer than usual. \"Thanks, everyone, for trying to help me. But that didn't work. You've got to stop worrying about me and focus on what's important.\"\n\nDavidson said: 'What's that?\"\n\n\"Staying alive and getting back the canisters of Agent Pandora. Forget about me.\"\n\nDavidson wanted to mull over the implications of Secretary Monroe having stolen the Agent Pandora canisters. But, first, he had to focus on his brother's health. He had been wondering where to get the Azopart his brother needed and had an idea. \"Stop being a martyr. There's still hope. I know someone who might have the antibiotic you need.\"\n\n\"Who?\n\n\"A crime boss called Kevin Malloy. He ran a big black-market operation before the Alliance arrived; he even sold prescription drugs. He's still got a big stockpile of supplies which probably includes antibiotics.\"\n\n\"Where's his stockpile?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\"Where's Malloy?\"\n\n\"I don't know that either.\"\n\nHelen said: \"How do we find them?\"\n\n\"I think I can locate his bodyguard, Frank Hamelin. After we grab him, the rest will be easy.\"\n\nTed shook his head. \"As I said, forget about me. Move on.\"\n\nDavidson frowned. \"We've already had that discussion and you lost. Accept that.\"\n\nA long sigh. \"When we were kids, you always had to get your way.\"\n\n\"Yep, and nothing has changed.\"\n\nHelen looked at Davidson. \"When are we going to grab Hamelin?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow morning.\"\nCHAPTER THIRTEEN\n\nWhen he was a major in the Internal Security Bureau, Davidson worked hard to stop Alliance spies and collaborators infiltrating the criminal underworld. He developed a network of underworld informants to help him do that. Kevin Malloy's bodyguard, Frank Hamelin, was one of those informants. Hamelin often reported on dealings between Alliance representatives and Malloy or other underworld figures. He was a good informant, though Davidson accepted he never told the whole truth.\n\nIn those days, Hamelin was a keen jogger who, every morning, parked his Lincoln sedan in a secluded car park beside Lake Michigan and ran for six miles along the shore. Davidson often met him in the car park to obtain information.\n\nThe City was now in total chaos. There was almost no food, electricity, water or fuel. Death stalked the streets. However, Hamelin was a fitness fanatic who loved routine. He would not miss his morning run.\n\nDavidson decided to stake out the car park the next morning. Just after dawn, he left the bungalow in the Alliance truck and headed towards it. Philip sat beside him; Helen and Ted sat in the back.\n\nThe gloomy sun hovered just above the horizon, coated with mist, as if unsure whether to continue its journey. Davidson drove along deserted streets lined with starving buildings until he reached a side street that was one block from the car park; he pulled up against the curb and everyone climbed out holding their weapons.\n\nDavidson looked at Ted. \"You'll have to stay here.\"\n\nA frown. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Your cough.\"\n\n\"What about it?\"\n\n\"It's loud. It could get us killed.\"\n\n\"But ...\"\n\n\"Be sensible.\"\n\nA big frown. \"OK, OK. But you shouldn't risk your lives for me.\"\n\n\"We're not. The only danger is your coughing.\"\n\nA big eye-roll. \"Alright, I'll wait here.\"\n\nTed leaned against the side of the truck and Davidson led the others toward the car park. Davidson was pleased to see a big black Lincoln with Hamelin's license plate was the only parked car. The guy deserved a medal for dedication to jogging.\n\nWhile the others kept a look-out, Davidson lifted the hood of the Lincoln and removed its carburetor. Then, they all waited behind a small toilet block.\n\nHamelin appeared 20 minutes later, skull red and puffing hard. Davidson bet the guy was carrying a pistol under his windcheater, despite the inconvenience. Hamelin was that cautious.\n\nDavidson watched Hamelin get into his car and turn the ignition key. No response. After about a minute, Hamelin, looking annoyed, climbed out, popped the hood and examined the engine.\n\nDavidson slipped to within five yards of Hamelin and extended his Ruger pistol. \"Freeze, Frank. Don't move a whisker.\"\n\nHamelin looked over his shoulder, startled. \"Davidson, what the fuck?\"\n\n\"You're a dangerous man, Frank, so I won't take any risks. You make a tiny false move and I'll take you down. No hesitation. Now, take out your pistol very, very slowly. Finger and thumb on the butt, please. Put it on the roof of the car.\"\n\nBefore Hamelin could comply, Philip stepped up next to Davidson, revolver rock-steady. Hamelin studied his cowboy rig and looked quizzical.\n\nDavidson said: \"This is Philip. He's a gunfighter from Kansas. Now, take out your pistol and put it on the roof.\"\n\nHamelin nervously unzipped his windcheater, reached into a shoulder holster, extracted his pistol with thumb and forefinger, and placed it where told.\n\n\"Good. Lie face down with your hands behind your back.\"\n\nHamelin's skull flared up. \"What the hell is this about?\"\n\n\"Do it, now!\"\n\nDavidson had brought a pair of handcuffs. When Hamelin was flat on his belly, Davidson pulled them out, dropped a knee onto his back and cuffed his hands. He propped Hamelin up against a front tire of the Lincoln and stepped back. \"That's better. This is just like old times, isn't it, except I'm now pointing a pistol at you. You know, I'm impressed.\"\n\n\"About what?\"\n\n\"The City's collapsing around our ears and you jog every morning.\"\n\n\"It's how I relax.\"\n\n\"You relaxed right now?\"\n\nPursed lips. \"No. What do you want?\"\n\n\"We'll get to that. First, tell me this: what the hell happened at the Maximum Security Unit the other day?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"While we were inside the Unit, a couple of truck-loads of Alliance fighters turned up.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's right. I don't know where they came from. They just appeared at the wrong time and made a fucking big mess of the guys staging the diversion at the front gate. Wiped them out. Only one guy survived and he's still shaking.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Then, they came down to the Main Prison and chased your group into the trees?\"\n\n\"Correct. They were right on our asses. Then, for some reason, they stopped and went back to their trucks. I couldn't believe it. They almost had us. It was a miracle.\"\n\n\"They had to go back to the Unit because the prisoners we released started shooting it up. They had to deal with them.\"\n\n\"That makes sense.\"\n\n\"So, you don't know what happened to the prison rebellion?\"\n\n\"No idea. I just focused on hauling my ass out of there.\"\n\n\"Malloy got away?\"\n\n\"Yeah, we all got away except for Tex, who caught a bullet.\"\n\n\"I saw that. Well, I'm glad Malloy got away.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I want something from him.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"An antibiotic.\"\n\nHamelin looked puzzled. \"What?\"\n\n\"An antibiotic. It's called Azopart, though I'll take Silopan if necessary.\"\n\n\"Why do you want them?\"\n\n\"None of your business.\"\n\n\"Why do you think Kevin has them?\"\n\n\"They're small, scarce and valuable - just the sort of thing he would hoard.\"\n\nA shrug. \"I know he's got lots of medicines - he boasts about that. I don't know what kind.\"\n\n\"Where does he keep that medicine?\"\n\n\"With the rest of his stockpile, of course.\"\n\n\"Where's that?\"\n\n\"If I tell you, you'll let me go?\"\n\nHamelin would see through a lie. Better to be honest, for the moment. \"No, I won't. I'll let you go when I have the antibiotic I want.\"\n\n\"Or, when you find out Kevin doesn't have it?\"\n\n\"Yes, or that. I'm not a vicious guy. You know that. If you co-operate, I'll let you go; if you play games, I'll pop you. I'm not sentimental, either.\"\n\n\"OK, OK. Malloy owns a big carpet warehouse in Sector 4. It's probably the only legit business he's ever owned. He dug a huge storage area underneath it and stockpiled his black-market supplies there. There are still plenty of them left.\"\n\n\"You never told me any of that?\"\n\nA weak grin. \"You never asked.\"\n\nDavidson had always assumed that Hamelin withheld a lot of information. This was proof. \"How do I get into this underground storage area?\"\n\n\"You can't get in.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"It's behind a huge metal door with a massive lock. You'd need a truck-load of dynamite to blow it open. Kevin's a very cautious man, believe me.\"\n\nDavidson did believe him. \"OK. Where is he right now?\"\n\n\"In the storage area, of course. He went a bit mad after the City fell and got terrified that people would steal his stockpile. Won't let it out of his sight. He's like a dog in a manger.\"\n\n\"Does he ever leave the place?\"\n\n\"Not anymore. He went straight back there after what happened at the Unit and hasn't left since. He's become a helmet.\"\n\nDavidson was confused. \"You mean, a hermit?\"\n\n\"Yeah, a hermit.\"\n\n\"That's no way for a man to live.\"\n\n\"You try telling him that ...\"\n\n\"Is anyone with him underground?\"\n\n\"No. Like I said, most of his crew got blown away at the Unit. I'm the only protection he's got.\"\n\nIf Davidson politely asked Malloy for some antibiotics, and Malloy had them, Malloy might hand them over. Or, he might not. Malloy was unpredictable and would hate Davidson knowing the location of his stockpile. The best way to obtain some antibiotics - if available - was to gain some leverage over Malloy.\n\nHe said: \"It looks like I need a hostage I can exchange for the antibiotics.\"\n\nA shrug. \"Don't look at me. He won't give you anything for me.\"\n\n\"I know that. There's only one person he really cares about. Recent events proved that.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"His dumbo son, Albert, of course. Where is he right now?\"\n\nA long pause while Hamelin pondered whether to lie or not.\n\nDavidson pointed his Ruger at the bodyguard's forehead to short-circuit those ruminations. \"If I even suspect you're lying, I will shoot you dead. I'll feel bad if I get it wrong, of course, but you'll feel a lot worse.\"\n\n\"OK, OK, I think he's still celebrating at the Golden Palace.\"\n\nMalloy owned three brothels. The Palace was his most up-market operation, though that said little. The decor and girls were pretty industrial. \"It's still operating?\"\n\n\"Kevin reopened it so Albert could celebrate his freedom with a couple of girls.\"\n\n\"The girls turned up?\"\n\n\"Of course. People will do anything for food these days.\"\n\n\"Then let's go over there and join the celebration.\"\n\nCHAPTER FOURTEEN\n\nThe Golden Palace brothel filled the second floor of a run-down strip mall in Sector 7. Davidson parked the truck outside it and told Philip to stay put and keep his eyes open. Helen, Ted, and a handcuffed and chained Hamelin, sat in the back. He left them there.\n\nHe climbed a rear staircase to the front door of the brothel. Hamelin had given him a key. Davidson gently unlocked the door and slipped inside. The only thing palatial about the Golden Palace was its name. The brothel started life as an office suite. When Malloy took over the lease, he converted the offices into bedrooms. The flimsy walls did not contain the moans and groans of customers or the insincere yelps of the girls.\n\nGray sunlight trickled through windows and illuminated a reception area with lacy curtains, gilt-edged mirrors, plump leather couches and onyx nymphs. Several original Van Gogh paintings, souvenired from the derelict Art Institute of Chicago, decorated pine-paneled walls. Someone had pen-drawn a silly beard on a self-portrait.\n\nDavidson crept up the gloomy main corridor, pistol drawn, glancing through open doorways into empty rooms. The snoring of someone, somewhere, grew louder.\n\nThe last room was quite large. Albert Malloy lay naked on a huge water bed beside a peroxide blonde who, at least, wore lingerie. When Davidson stepped through the door with his pistol, she screamed and leaped to her feet.\n\nShe cowered in a corner while Albert kept snoring. \"Don't shoot. Don't shoot.\"\n\nDavidson showed a palm. \"Don't worry, I won't harm you. I just want to talk to Albert here. You can go.\"\n\nBig mascara-fringed eyes. \"I can?\"\n\n\"Yes, go home, quietly.\"\n\n\"OK, OK.\" She rushed towards the door and scooped up her dress without breaking stride; she paused and scowled at the still-snoring Albert. \"You should shoot him.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the advice.\"\n\n\"No, seriously.\"\n\n\"I'll think about it.\"\n\nAfter looking ready to argue her case, she gave Albert the finger and disappeared. Davidson looked down at Albert, who had shaved off his heavy beard and exposed a beaky face. His skin was inmate-white and semi-starvation had eroded his already poor physique. The sooner he clothed himself, the better.\n\nDavidson kicked his foot. A small groan and more snoring. Davidson kicked it again. Albert squealed and opened a sleepy eye. It took him a while to comprehend the significance of the pistol. Then, he snapped awake and backed up against the headboard. He pulled up the sheet as if it was bullet-proof. \"What the fuck, dude - who are you?\"\n\n\"You don't remember me?\"\n\nAlbert tore his eyes off the muzzle and looked up. \"No, who're you?\"\n\n\"I'm Carl Davidson. I help your father get you out of jail.\"\n\nAlbert squinted. \"Oh, yeah, I remember you now. What do you want?\"\n\n\"I need a favor.\"\n\n\"What favor?\"\n\nA smile. \"I want you to be my hostage.\"\n\n\"What the fuck're you talking about?\"\n\n\"I want something from your father. He's not generous. So, I need a hostage he cares about. You're the only candidate.\"\n\nAlbert looked ready to cry. \"I don't wanna be a fuckin' hostage. You're making a big mistake. My dad will tear you to pieces.\" Two years in prison did not damage his arrogance or sense of entitlement.\n\n\"Listen, I was once a major in the ISB. That means I've killed a lot of people. You can join them if you want. I'll just shoot you now and walk out of this shit-hole. Nobody will ever know or care.\"\n\nAlbert dropped the sheet and showed his palms. \"OK, OK, I'll be your hostage.\"\n\n\"Smart move. Put on your clothes before I throw up.\"\n\nAlbert leaped out of bed and nervously pulled on a pair of jeans and a skivvy. He looked around. \"Where are my shoes?\"\n\n\"I don't care. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Ask one more question and I'll shoot you dead.\"\n\n\"OK, OK.\"\n\nAlbert pirouetted and put his hands where instructed. Davidson snapped another pair of handcuffs over trembling wrists and shoved Albert towards the door.\n\nAlbert yelped: \"My shoes.\"\n\n\"Too late now.\"\n\nDavidson frog-marched him downstairs and heaved him into the back of the truck, where Helen and Ted sat with Frank Hamelin, still handcuffed and chained to a bench.\n\nDavidson chained Albert to the bench opposite.\n\nAlbert gave Hamelin an angry look. \"Did you rat on me, Frank?\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\nHamelin had told Davidson that the carpet warehouse, under which Kevin Malloy built a storage area, was just inside the Section 4 commercial zone. Davidson took about 30 minutes to reach it.\n\nThe warehouse was a big corrugated iron structure marooned in the middle of a wide car park. A huge sign above a show-room said: 'Magic Carpets'. Every window of the show-room was smashed and its interior was fire-gutted. The rest of the building looked in reasonable condition.\n\nDavidson parked near a small wooden shed in a corner of the car park and climbed into the back of the truck, where Helen and Ted guarded the two men chained to benches.\n\nHe shoved the handcuffed Hamelin out of the truck and climbed out after him. His three companions joined them. They left Albert Malloy behind.\n\nAs Hamelin looked around, his eyes lingered on the nearby wooden shed.\n\nDavidson looked at him. \"How do you usually get into the underground storage area?\"\n\n\"I go into the warehouse and speak to Kevin on an intercom; he lets me in.\"\n\n\"Can he see who's waiting to enter?\"\n\n\"Of course. There's a CCTV camera.\"\n\n\"OK, take me to the intercom.\"\n\n\"Take off my handcuffs.\"\n\n\"Don't be stupid.\" Davidson looked at the others. \"Stay alert and keep an eye on Albert. If I don't survive, he shouldn't either.\"\n\nThey all nodded.\n\nDavidson retrieved his AK-47 from the truck cabin and shoved Hamelin towards the warehouse. \"Get moving.\"\n\nHamelin led Davidson across the car park and through the burnt-out show-room into a huge open area with carpet rolls stacked high. They weaved between the stacks until they reached a door on the far side marked \"Toilet\" with an intercom beside it. A CCTV camera peered down at them.\n\nHamelin pushed the intercom button.\n\nKevin Malloy responded angrily. \"Hello, Frank. I see Carl Davidson is with you. What's he doing here?\"\n\nDavidson leaned close to the intercom. \"Kevin, I need an antibiotic called Azopart. Do you have it?\"\n\n\"Why do you want it?\"\n\n\"A friend has tuberculosis.\"\n\n\"Why would I have it?\"\n\n\"Antibiotics are extremely valuable. I bet you deal in them.\"\n\nA long pause. \"If I have some Azopart \\- I'm not saying I do - why would I give it to you?\"\n\nMalloy obviously had the Azopart and was now in bargaining mode. Davidson felt giddy with excitement. \"Our long friendship.\"\n\nA barking laugh. \"Don't be stupid.\"\n\n\"OK. If you don't give it to me, I'll shoot Frank.\"\n\nAnother laugh. \"Shoot away. Sorry, Frank, I love you like a brother, but nobody pushes me around.\"\n\nHamelin looked annoyed. \"I've always been loyal, Boss.\"\n\n\"I know. This is not easy for me.\"\n\nHamelin's expression said it was a lot harder for him.\n\nDavidson said: \"I thought you'd say that, so I've got another hostage to shoot.\"\n\nA pause. \"Who?\"\n\n\"Albert.\"\n\n\"You're kidding?\"\n\n\"No. I grabbed him at the Golden Palace this morning. He's sitting in a truck outside. If you don't provide me with a nine-month supply of Azopart, very soon, he dies.\"\n\nMalloy's voice quivered. \"Is that true, Frank?\"\n\n\"Yes, Boss. He's outside.\"\n\n\"Shit, Carl, he's my son; leave him out of this.\"\n\n\"No chance. I'm going to leave Frank here. Give him a nine-month supply of Azopart and send him outside or I shoot Albert. Remember: Azopart. You have 20 minutes.\"\n\n\"OK, OK. I'll give Frank the drug, I promise.\"\n\nMalloy could be bluffing that he had Azopart to buy time. But Davidson sensed he was telling the truth. \"You have 20 minutes. After that, you won't be a parent.\"\n\n\"You'll get what you want.\"\n\nDavidson stepped back from the intercom and looked at Hamelin. \"Turn around, Frank.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Just do it.\"\n\nHamelin nervously exposed his back.\n\nDavidson stuck the barrel of the AK-47 between his shoulder blades, removed the handcuffs and stepping back. \"I'm going to leave you here. When you bring out the antibiotics, don't be a hero. That would be a tragic mistake.\"\n\nDavidson backed away from Hamelin until he was behind a big pile of carpet rolls. Then, he strode across the warehouse, through the shattered show-room and out to the truck.\n\nHis three companions stood beside it. Philip said: \"What happened?\"\n\nDavidson explained what occurred.\n\nTed said: \"You mean, Malloy does have the antibiotic?\"\n\n\"Sounds like it.\"\n\nHelen said: \"That's great news.\"\n\n\"It is. Unfortunately, Malloy won't just hand it over. He'll try to kill us.\"\n\nPhilip said: \"Why?\"\n\n\"We know where he's hiding a huge stockpile of supplies. If that information gets around, this will become the most popular place in Webster City.\"\n\nPhilip put his thumbs in his gun belt. \"How's he gonna kill us?\"\n\nDavidson glanced around the car park and back at Philip. \"Tell me this: if you built an underground hideaway, how many exits would you build?\"\n\n\"Umm, one?\"\n\n\"No, you wouldn't. If you did, the place would be a death trap. You'd want to have at least another exit to use as an escape route and sally port.\"\n\n\"What's a sally port?\"\n\n\"Sally ports were small doors in castle walls; defenders snuck out of them to surprise attackers.\"\n\nA crinkly smile. \"You think Malloy built a sally port?\"\n\n\"Must have.\"\n\n\"And they're gonna do some sallying?\"\n\n\"Definitely.\"\n\nPhilip looked around. \"Where's this sally port?\"\n\nDavidson nodded towards the wooden shed in the corner of the car park. \"That's a strange place to put a shed, isn't it? But Frank Hamelin stared at it when he got out of the truck. Why do you think he did that?\"\n\nA laugh. \"'Cos it's a sally port?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\nPhilip smiled. \"You think we should wait and see who comes out?\"\n\nA nod. \"That's my plan.\"\n\nTed said: \"What will we do with the truck and Albert Malloy?\"\n\n\"Leave them where they are. The truck will give Malloy and Hamelin something to focus on when they come out of the shed.\"\n\nDavidson led his small party over to the shed and found a deadbolt lock on the door. No surprise. Malloy did not want intruders to use his escape route to break into his underground hideaway.\n\nSeveral thick pine trees stood about 15 yards from the shed. Davidson positioned everyone behind them and told them to wait. He reckoned it would take Malloy and Hamelin about 20 minutes to cook up a plan and sally forth.\n\nAs it turned out, nothing happened for 25 minutes. Davidson started to worry that he had miscalculated when the shed door swung open and Frank Hamelin edged out holding a pump-action shotgun. He looked around carefully and scurried towards the truck. Kevin Malloy followed him.\n\nDavidson had told the others to let him do the shooting. Hamelin and Malloy were half-way to the truck when he stepped from behind a tree. He considered telling Hamelin to stop. But this was no time for niceties. He lifted his rifle and fired three shots at Hamelin, intending to kill. Hamelin tumbled over and his shot-gun skittered across the bitumen. Malloy spun around, terrified, looking for the shooter.\n\nDavidson was about to shoot him when he dropped his rifle and threw up his hands. \"Don't shoot, don't shoot.\"\n\nDavidson yelled, \"Don't move\", and looked at Ted and Philip. \"Make sure nobody's lurking in the shed.\"\n\nWhile they rushed towards the shed, Davidson and Helen headed towards Malloy and Hamelin.\n\nMalloy stood stock still with his hands aloft, breathing hard. \"Don't shoot; don't shoot.\" Hamelin, though, was obviously dead. The big bullet hole in his bald head silenced any debate about that.\n\nDavidson yelled again. \"Don't move.\"\n\n\"I won't. I won't.\"\n\n\"You know I want Azopart. Where is it?\"\n\nMalloy looked at the muzzle of the rifle and knew the time for games was over. \"It's in a big white cabinet in the bedroom. I was going to give it to you, anyway.\"\n\n\"Bullshit. Now, don't even twitch. If you do, Helen will blow you away.\"\n\nDavidson entered the wooden shed and found Ted and Philip standing over a manhole with a heavy steel cover beside it. A metal ladder went straight down.\n\nDavidson looked at Philip. \"OK, follow me.\"\n\nThey climbed down a 20-foot ladder. At the bottom, a long dank tunnel ran in the direction of the carpet warehouse. Davidson turned on his flashlight and led Philip along it. After about one hundred yards, they reached a solid wooden door, slightly ajar, with light leaking from the edges. Davidson readied his rifle and kicked it open.\n\nBeyond the door was a huge well-lit room. Heavy metal shelves, which climbed every wall, were laden with canned food, booze, fuel, rifles, ammunition and clothes. Spread around the room were half-a-dozen open doorways. Davidson cautiously glanced through each one and saw more rooms bulging with stores. The only exception was the last one, which had a bed, en-suite bathroom and huge white cabinet.\n\nDavidson used the butt of his rifle to smash the lock of the cabinet. The doors swung open. The cabinet was crowded with bandages, medical equipment and prescription drug packets. He flipped through the packets and found one labeled Azopart. Thank God. He kept rummaging and found another 20 packets of the same drug. More than enough for nine months of treatment. The expiry date printed on the packets was in six months' time. Surely, though, that was just precautionary and the pills would be potent after that.\n\nDavidson stuffed the Azopart packets into an empty rucksack he found on the floor and turned to Philip. \"I've got the antibiotic. We should also grab some food, gas and ammo.\"\n\nDavidson put the rucksack on his back, grabbed a couple of cans of gas and headed back up the tunnel. Philip filled another rucksack with cans of food and followed him.\n\nDavidson left the cans of fuel at the bottom of the ladder and climbed up through the manhole. Ted was peering out of the shed door at the car park.\n\nDavidson smiled and tossed the rucksack at his feet. \"Lots of Azopart in there. The expiry date is six months from now. That shouldn't matter.\"\n\nTed shook his fists and laughed. \"Thank you, thank you. You're a great brother.\"\n\nA shrug. \"I'm trying to improve.\"\n\nDavidson and Philip each carried ten loads of supplies along the tunnel and up to the truck. Each time, they passed Kevin Malloy, sitting cross-legged in the car park, with Helen guarding him. When they loaded the supplies into the back of the truck, Albert Malloy demanded to know what was happening outside. Davidson got tired of telling him to shut up.\n\nWhen they had finished loading the truck, Davidson joined Helen and the seated Kevin Malloy. He glared at Malloy. \"I should shoot you now.\"\n\nA pleading look. \"I wasn't going to hurt you, I promise. I just wanted to rescue Albert.\"\n\n\"Bullshit.\"\n\n\"You won't shoot me, will you?\"\n\nDavidson's anger had abated and he did not want to shoot Malloy in cold blood, particularly with Helen present. \"No, I'm not going to shoot you.\"\n\nA deep sigh. \"Thanks. And, umm, you won't tell anyone about my stockpile, will you?\"\n\nDavidson smiled. \"Why should I keep that quiet? This city is starving and you're sitting on a huge pile of food.\"\n\n\"But it's mine - all mine.\"\n\n\"That's a nasty attitude.\"\n\nMalloy looked desperate. \"Look, if you keep quiet, I'll give you extra life - a lot of extra life.\"\n\nDavidson felt a jolt. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"About a week ago, a Palace Guardsman contacted me. He said that Isaiah Webster is alive and on the run with some Palace Guardsmen, including him. Did you know Isaiah Webster is still alive?\"\n\nIn fact, both Secretary Monroe and Commander Solon told Davidson that the heir apparent of the Webster Dynasty was still walking erect. \"I heard a rumor to that effect.\"\n\n\"Anyway, the Guardsman asked for some supplies, mostly food.\"\n\n\"Did he say where Isaiah was hiding?\"\n\n\"No. But he mentioned something interesting.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"He said that Isaiah is carting around a prisoner.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"A guy called Professor Pettigrew who has invented a drug that makes people live longer.\"\n\nDavidson masked his shock. When he and Colonel Prentice burst into the office of the last Chancellor, Joshua Webster, two weeks ago, the Chancellor begged for mercy and said that, if he was spared, he would give the two intruders pills that added 100 years to their lives. He revealed that, just before the Great Plague, a group of researchers at the Mayo Clinic invented an anti-aging drug. Then, 30 years ago, a Professor of Biology at Webster University called Angus Pettigrew recovered their data and used it to replicate the drug. The Chancellor quickly ensured that only he and a few cronies had access to the Professor and his drug.\n\nHowever, the Chancellor's offer came too late. Colonel Prentice turned it down with a withering burst of gunfire. The Alliance captured Webster City a few hours later and Davidson heard nothing more about Pettigrew, though he sometimes wondered what happened to him. It now looked like Isaiah Webster made him a hostage.\n\nMalloy's revelation solved at least one big mystery. Several days ago, Secretary Monroe asked Davidson to find Isaiah Webster and recover three canisters of Agent Pandora that Webster allegedly stole from the Center for Disease Control. However, Davidson recently discovered that Monroe, not Webster, stole the canisters.\n\nThat discovery left Davidson perplexed about why Monroe cooked up his story that Webster stole them. His motive was now obvious. Monroe somehow learned about Professor Pettigrew and his anti-aging drug, and that Webster held the Professor hostage. Monroe wanted Davidson - who knew the City better than anyone - to find Webster so Monroe could seize the Professor and his miraculous drug. However, Monroe did not want news about the Professor and his drug to get out. That would inspire others to join the hunt. So, he lied to Davidson that Webster stole the canisters of Agent Pandora and he wanted to recover them.\n\nHowever, that revelation did not change Davidson's priorities. He intended to destroy Monroe and recover the canisters of Agent Pandora, not search for Professor Pettigrew and his anti-aging drug. He would chase longer life another day.\n\nHe said: \"How do you know Professor Pettigrew really can make people live longer?\"\n\n\"The Guardsman sounded very sure.\"\n\n\"Maybe. But he's a Guardsman stupid enough to follow Isaiah Webster around, not a scientist. Anyway, why are you telling me this?\"\n\n\"If you let me live and keep quiet about my stockpile, I'll find Webster and Professor Pettigrew for you.\"\n\nSince Davidson did not intend to chase after Professor Pettigrew, he might as well delegate the task to Malloy. He had nothing to lose. \"Alright, I'll keep quiet. But I'm coming back here in three days to find out if you have located Webster and Pettigrew. Don't disappoint me.\"\n\nMalloy cringed. \"I won't.\"\n\n\"Good. In fact, I think the task will be good for you.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nDavidson adopted a mocking tone. \"You're obviously spending too much time hiding underground. It's bad for your mind and body. You'll develop all sorts of stupid and creepy ideas. Embrace life. Feel the sun on your face.\"\n\nA sycophantic smile. \"You're right, you're right. That's what I'll do.\"\n\n\"Good. You have three days.\" Davidson turned and headed towards the truck.\n\nHelen caught up with him. \"Wow, that was interesting.\"\n\n\"Yes, though it doesn't change anything. We've got to bring down Secretary Monroe and recover the Agent Pandora. That's the priority. Pettigrew is a side issue.\"\n\n\"And, after that?\"\n\nA smile. \"Anyone who's still alive can try to extend their life.\"\n\nDavidson climbed into the back of the truck and unchained and uncuffed Albert, who obviously expected to be shot. \"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm letting you go.\"\n\nAn uncertain smile. \"You are?\"\n\n\"Yes. You'll find your father outside. Get out of here.\"\n\n\"You won't shoot me in the back?\"\n\n\"Only if you hang around.\"\n\nAlbert leaped from the truck and rushed over to his father.\n\nDavidson circled around to the cabin and got behind the wheel. He yelled for everyone to climb aboard. When they did, Ted climbed into the cabin beside him, clutching the rucksack of Azopart.\n\nTed smiled. \"I've already thanked Helen for her help. She's a great woman, you know. You're very lucky. Now, I want to thank you for what you've done. If this stuff doesn't work, it won't be your fault. You've done all you can do.\"\n\n\"Think nothing of it. You're my brother and I'm making up for lost time. Just don't let those pills out of your sight.\"\n\n\"I'll even sleep with them.\"\n\n\"Good.\" Davidson slipped the truck into gear and drove off.\n\nTed said: \"Where are we going now?\"\n\n\"To find Commander Solon.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"If we want to destroy Monroe and recover the Agent Pandora, we'll need his help. That OK?\"\n\nA laugh. \"Fine. I've always wanted to save humanity - or what's left of it. I guess this is my big chance.\" After a minute of silence, Ted said: You're good at this stuff, aren't you?\"\n\n\"What stuff?\"\n\n\"Dealing with bad guys.\"\n\n\"It helps to be one.\"\nCHAPTER FIFTEEN\n\nAfter Commander Solon survived Secretary Monroe's assassination attempt, he informed Davidson that he would seek refuge with the Muslim Brigade camped in the west of the City. That was the only unit of the Alliance army that he still trusted.\n\nThe 400-strong brigade came from Florida. The Muslim community there sprung up 50 years ago, when an itinerant Mormon preacher called Owen Kelly found an English translation of the Koran in the ruins of a public library. He claimed that the archangel Gabriel put it in his hands. After studying it in a local wilderness for six months, he abandoned Mormonism and proclaimed himself an Iman. He adopted the name Abu Bakir and proselytized the new-old religion of Islam.\n\nThere was always room for another religion in the Badlands. It was a post-apocalyptic world floating free of society and history. People hungered for meaning and purpose. Prophets, mystics, saints and madmen wandered around feeding that hunger. The ministry of Abu Bakir lasted for 20 years. When he died, he left behind 10 wives, 20 children and a fast-growing religion. New leaders appeared and the Muslim community in Florida now numbered 50,000.\n\nDavidson sometimes wondered why the community sent troops to fight Webster City, over a thousand miles away. He guessed it wanted to demonstrate its growing power and blood young fighters.\n\nAfter the fall of the City, many brigades of the Alliance army turned into a rabble. However, several maintained their discipline and honor. They had all gone home, except for the Muslim Brigade, which was now the most cohesive and potent military force in the City. Even Secretary Monroe tried not to antagonize it.\n\nThe brigade liked to stay detached from the rest of the army. It had established a camp in a large parkland in the west of the City and kept a wary eye on its allies. After leaving the carpet factory, Davidson headed in that direction.\n\nThe further west Davidson drove, the grimmer the City became. The apartment blocks grew more decrepit and scattered, the sidewalks more battered, the air hotter and dustier. Redundant graffiti attacking the Webster Dynasty was common.\n\nThe scant traffic on the roads was all heading out of the City. Pedestrians often limped and numerous bloated corpses lay on the sidewalks. During the reign of the Webster Dynasty, most men wore the Webster Suit in public. It was an attire that Alexander Webster made popular and comprised a cape, collarless tunic and stove-pipe pants. Most women wore the Pamela Suit, a bulky pant-suit that his principal wife often wore. Nobody dared wear those clothes now.\n\nThe large parkland where the Muslim Brigade was camped was one of the few verdant places in the western part of the City. Citizens once flocked there on weekends to picnic and play games.\n\nDavidson drove under a flag-stone entrance arch and across a small bridge over a creek. The camp sat on an expanse of grass. Barbed-wire fences and trenches lined the perimeter; sandbag sentry posts appeared every 150 yards.\n\nHalf the interior was filled with tents arranged in a grid pattern. The other half had a parade area and a motor park filled with trucks, jeeps and armored personnel carriers.\n\nCrouched on each side of the main gate were bunkers lined with tree trunks. A crescent flag fluttering over it. No sign of human activity. The guards were obviously tucked away in the bunkers. If they were competent - which was highly likely - they would not let an unknown truck approach the gate with impunity. Davidson parked about 100 yards away and climbed out, unarmed.\n\nHe approached the main gate wearing only a t-shirt and pants, and holding a white towel to signal his peaceful intent. Despite that, if Commander Solon was out of favor with the Muslim Brigade, he would soon be dead. That thought dominated all others.\n\nSeveral rifles pointed at him through the slits in the bunkers. A hatchet-faced man, wearing an Alliance uniform with a Muslim Brigade patch, stepped from behind a bunker and pointed his rifle at Davidson. \"Stop right there.\"\n\nDavidson stopped and squeezed saliva onto his tongue. \"Good morning.\"\n\n\"What do ya want?\"\n\n\"To talk to your commander, Colonel Qadir.\"\n\n\"Who're ya?\"\n\n\"My name is Carl Davidson. I'm a friend of Commander Solon. I understand he is here.\"\n\nA long hesitation. \"Lie on your belly, put ya hands behind ya head and stay very, very still.\"\n\nAt least Davidson was not shot out of hand. His hopes of survival rose as he lay down and obeyed the instructions.\n\nHeavy footsteps approached and a hand patted him down for a weapon. Two steps back. \"Alright, git up and follow me.\"\n\nDavidson rose and looked at hatchet-face. \"Where are we going?\"\n\n\"To see Colonel Qadir, of course. You'd better not be playing a game. We'll skin ya alive if ya are.\"\n\n\"I've got friends in the truck.\"\n\n\"They stay where they is until the Colonel says they kin enter.\" A chuckle. \"If he don't, we'll drop a mortar on them.\"\n\nSeveral other guards emerged from the bunkers and pointed their rifles at Davidson. Hatchet-face led Davidson, with two other guards trailing behind, through the main gate and along a rising dirt avenue that bisected the tents. Davidson admired the neatness and good order of the camp.\n\nAt the end of the avenue was a large tent with another crescent flag dancing above it. A couple of fighters stood guard. One stepped forward and confronted hatchet-face, who pointed over his shoulder. \"This guy turned up at the front gate and wants ta see the Colonel. Claims he's a friend of Commander Solon.\"\n\n\"What's his name?\"\n\n\"Carl Davidson.\"\n\nThe fighter nodded and slipped inside the tent.\n\nA minute later, a thickset man with coppery hair stepped from the tent. He wore an Alliance uniform and the flashings of a colonel. An open smile. \"Hello, I'm Colonel Abdul Qadir. You're Carl Davidson?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You were in the ISB, weren't you? The Central Committee has sent out lots of bulletins about you. Before we attacked the City, it said we should kill you; then, it said we shouldn't kill you; now, it says we should kill you, again.\"\n\n\"You should ignore the last bulletin.\"\n\nA wry smile. \"We shall see. I heard a rumor that you stopped the last Chancellor releasing a virus that would have wiped us all out, and that's why you got a reprieve.\"\n\n\"What you heard is true.\"\n\nA nod of approval. \"Then, I thank you. But you're back in the bad books, aren't you? Yesterday, a bulletin from the Central Committee accused you of 'subversive activities'. What did you do?\"\n\nNo point being shy about his transgressions. If this guy was going to kill him, that was already baked in. \"Oh, I double-crossed Secretary Monroe; then, I helped Commander Solon escape when Monroe ambushed him.\"\n\n\"I heard about the ambush.\"\n\n\"Who from?\"\n\nA chuckle. \"Commander Solon, of course.\"\n\n\"He's here, right now?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Can I see him?\"\n\nA pause. \"Yes, follow me.\"\n\nThe Colonel led Davidson into a canvas-walled room with a wooden floor and flimsy office furniture. A couple of fighters sat at desks, pecking away on typewriters. The colonel led Davidson through a small door into a larger office with mahogany furniture.\n\nCommander Solon, sitting in a swivel chair, rose and shook Davidson's hand. \"Hello, Carl. Good to see you again. Glad you're alive.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you are, too.\"\n\nColonel Qadir looked at Solon. \"You vouch for this man?\"\n\n\"Definitely. I've told you about Carl Davidson. I've been hoping he'd turn up.\"\n\nThe Colonel turned to Davidson. \"Then, you are welcome.\"\n\n\"Thank you. I have some friends sitting in a truck outside the main gate. Will you let them into the camp?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" The Colonel turned to a fighter and conveyed that instruction. \"After that, find them an empty tent where they can sleep.\"\n\nThe fighter disappeared and the Colonel looked at Davidson. \"Take a seat.\"\n\nDavidson sat across from Solon and said: \"You look healthy.\"\n\n\"Colonel Qadir has been an excellent host.\"\n\n\"Do Monroe and the Central Committee know you're staying here?\"\n\n\"They must have a pretty good idea.\"\n\n\"But they haven't demanded you be handed over?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\nDavidson turned to Colonel Qadir. \"Why not?\"\n\nThe Colonel said: \"They know we would not comply with that demand and prefer not to press the issue.\"\n\n\"You mean, you have a poor relationship with Monroe and the Central Committee.\"\n\n\"We don't really have a relationship.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"It took us a long time to realize that the Alliance is a Christian organization and we are outsiders. That became obvious when the City was defeated and we asked for a seat on the Central Committee; that was refused. We also asked for better supplies and that was also refused. The only person in the Alliance who has treated us with respect is Commander Solon here. But we won't have to deal with them much longer. We are going home.\"\n\n\"When?\"\n\n\"In a few days. It will be winter soon. My men do not like the cold.\"\n\nDavidson looked at Solon. \"Are you going with them?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I have unfinished business here.\"\n\n\"Monroe?\"\n\n\"Yes. So, tell me, what happened to you after we parted?\"\n\nDavidson described how he rescued Helen from the Maximum Security Unit, with the assistance of crime boss Kevin Malloy and his men, but left out his visit to Malloy's underground base to obtain antibiotics for his brother.\n\nSolon said: \"Have you found out who stole the Agent Pandora and the vaccine against it from the Center for Disease Control?\"\n\nDavidson nodded towards Colonel Qadir. \"Does the Colonel understand what is going on?\"\n\nSolon said: \"Yes, I've explained how you and Colonel Prentice stopped the last Chancellor releasing a super-virus that would have wiped out the Alliance and almost everyone else left on the planet; I've also explained how that super-virus and its vaccine were stolen from the Center for Disease Control several days ago.\"\n\n\"Good. Well, I'm now sure that Monroe stole them.\"\n\nSolon looked stunned. \"How do you know that?\"\n\n\"I have a sick brother. I took him to Webster General a few days ago. While we were there, a doctor mentioned that Secretary Monroe sent a lot of 'flu' shots over to the hospital and Alliance high-ups were turning up to be vaccinated. The poor doctor couldn't understand why they wanted flu shots when the world was falling down around their ears.\"\n\nSolon frowned. \"The vaccine against Agent Pandora is disguised as a flu shot, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\nA long sigh. \"My goodness.\"\n\nThe Colonel gave Davidson a suspicious look. \"Only Alliance fighters are treated at Webster General.\"\n\n\"I know. We sneaked in and found a doctor who honored his oath.\"\n\nThe Colonel looked at Solon. \"What does this all mean?\"\n\n\"It looks like Monroe has the super-virus and is inoculating his supporters. That means he now has a devastating weapon to use against his enemies.\"\n\n\"Will he use it?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. He might just want to intimidate and bully them. But, if he feels threatened, he'll release it anyway. He'd rather rule something rather than nothing. Then, the only people on this planet will be him and his ten thousand closest friends.\"\n\n\"My God, would he do that?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think he would. I think he's quite mad. That's why we have to stop him.\"\n\nThe Colonel said: \"How the hell can we do that? He never leaves the Palace and has about 150 fighters protecting him. The place is impregnable.\"\n\nDavidson interrupted. \"True. So, we've got to lure him out of the Palace and ambush him.\"\n\n\"How? He won't leave the place.\"\n\n\"He will if we offer him the right bait.\"\n\n\"What bait?\"\n\n\"The biggest prize of all - extended life.\"\n\nA frown. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\nDavidson was enjoying himself. \"Secretary Monroe asked me to find Isaiah Webster because, he claimed, Webster stole the Agent Pandora super-virus and the vaccine against it. We now know that was a complete lie. Monroe stole them. But that raises a big question: why did he ask me to locate Isaiah Webster?\"\n\nSolon smiled. \"You're going to tell us?\"\n\n\"You bet. He discovered that Isaiah Webster had a hostage Monroe was desperate to obtain.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Professor Angus Pettigrew.\"\n\n\"Who's he?\"\n\nDavidson realized that he had not mentioned Pettigrew to Solon. He explained that Pettigrew was a Professor of Biology at Webster University who used research data, created before the Great Plague, to a manufacture an anti-aging drug which extended life by up to 100 years. Solon and the Colonel looked amazed.\n\nSolon said: \"That's incredible.\"\n\n\"Yes and no. Mankind made huge scientific advances before the Great Plague. We lost most of them. This one, by chance, survived.\"\n\n\"Are you saying the drug actually works?\"\n\n\"Yes. Pettigrew supplied it to the last Chancellor and a few of his pals. The Chancellor looked 30 years younger than his true age.\"\n\nThe Colonel said: \"Merciful Allah. So, Monroe is desperate to get his hands on Pettigrew and his drug?\"\n\n\"Of course. The thought of extra life drives even sane men crazy, and Monroe ain't sane. He's a megalomaniac who wants to rule this City and the Badlands for as long as possible. If we fool him into thinking that a detachment of your brigade has located Isaiah Webster, he'll rush out of the Palace to grab Webster and Pettigrew. He'll take most of his personal detail with him.\"\n\n\"Are you sure he'll take most of them?\"\n\n\"Yes. Webster and his gang have plenty of firepower. Monroe will want to overwhelm them and capture Pettigrew. However, your brigade will be waiting in ambush. That tactic is, of course, your specialty. You'll mash them up.\"\n\nThe Colonel frowned. \"I'd love to help you kill Monroe. But I won't risk the lives of my men to do that.\"\n\n\"If you go home, without securing the Agent Pandora, you'll put your brigade and your whole community in terrible danger. The Agent Pandora super-virus caused the Great Plague. It is a triumph of bio-weapons research: after a long and highly contagious incubation period, it causes massive organ failure and kills almost without exception. I know the Badlands are sparsely populated. But, if Monroe releases the virus, it will reach Florida, I promise you.\"\n\nThe Colonel looked worried. \"I find that frightening.\"\n\n\"You should.\"\n\nA long pause and a wry grin. \"I suppose it would be nice to deal with Monroe before we go home.\" A nod. \"Alright, we'll help you with your plan. But how do we secure the Agent Pandora? How do we stop Monroe releasing it?\"\n\n\"I suspect that, when he rushes out of the Palace, he'll leave the canisters where they're hidden and get someone he trusts to keep an eye on them.\"\n\n\"Where are they hidden?\"\n\n\"He must keep them physically close. That means they're in either the Chancellor's Office where he works or in his living quarters. After he leaves the Palace with his fighters, a small unit should enter the Palace and grab them. It can split up and head for both locations.\"\n\n\"How many in the unit?\"\n\n\"Twenty men, at most. If everything goes according to plan, the Palace will be lightly defended. The unit has to get in quick and move fast.\"\n\nSolon said: \"Fifteen fighters from my personal bodyguard are with me in this camp. If you join us, we should have enough men.\"\n\n\"I agree.\"\n\nThe Colonel looked at Davidson. \"What if you're wrong? What if he takes the canisters with him when he leaves the Palace?\"\n\n\"If he does, you'll have to secure them during the ambush. Hopefully, you'll hit him so hard he won't have time to release the super-virus. But, like I said, I'm confident he'll leave them behind.\"\n\nThe Colonel said: \"OK, I get all of that. But how do we fool Monroe into thinking that Isaiah Webster is somewhere without him realizing we've fed him disinformation?\"\n\nDavidson said: \"I've been thinking about that, too.\"\n\nThe Colonel laughed. \"I'm sure you have.\"\n\n\"There are two options. The first is to use someone in your camp you know is a traitor. You slip him the information and he slips it to Monroe. Does anyone fit that description?\"\n\nThe Colonel looked offended. \"No, I trust my men.\"\n\nA shrug. \"Too bad. It's always nice to have a pet traitor available for moments like this.\"\n\nAnother frown. \"Well, I don't. What's the other option?\"\n\n\"I assume Monroe's people monitor your radio traffic?\"\n\n\"Of course they do. I tell my units to be very careful about what they say.\"\n\n\"Maybe it's time a unit got careless.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"A unit could report, using your standard frequency, that it's located Isaiah Webster and his gang at a particular place. The moment Monroe hears where Webster is located, he'll rush there with most of his fighters, looking for Pettigrew. However, your brigade will be waiting in ambush.\"\n\n\"That should work. Where should we ambush them?\"\n\n\"Your unit should say, on the radio, that it's found Isaiah Webster hiding in the Amusement Park in Sector 3. The Park is about three miles from the Palace and there is only one road between them. The road passes through a botanical garden with lots of trees. It's the perfect place for an ambush.\"\n\n\"That will work. When do you want to do this?\"\n\n\"Tonight at, say, nine o'clock. We'll leave here at eight. The longer we wait, the greater the chance that Monroe will release the virus or someone will betray us.\"\n\n\"Alright, let's split up and start preparing. We'll meet back here in two hours to report on our progress.\" The Colonel looked at Davidson. \"I'll have one of my men take you to your friends.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nAs Davidson turned to leave, the Colonel raised a hand. \"Just out of curiosity: where are Isaiah Webster and Pettigrew?\"\n\n\"I don't know. But, when this is all over, a lot of people will want to find out.\"\nCHAPTER SIXTEEN\n\nA Muslim fighter escorted Davidson through the grid of tents towards the tent where Davidson's companions were waiting. Half-way there, a wailing voice leaped from loudspeakers.\n\nDavidson said: \"What's that?\"\n\nThe fighter said: \"The call to prayer. We pray five times a day.\"\n\nFighters rushed out of tents and dropped prayer mats on the ground. They stood and chanted \"Allah Akbar\", before prostrating themselves and prayed in what must be Arabic.\n\nDavidson looked at the fighter. \"You don't have to pray?\"\n\n\"I have an excuse.\"\n\nThey reached a small tent on the outskirts of the tent village and the fighter stopped. \"They're inside. I'll leave you here.\" He turned and wandered off.\n\nDavidson pushed aside a flap and found Helen, Ted and Philip sitting on camp beds, chatting.\n\nHelen said: \"Carl, where have you been?\"\n\n\"Talking to Colonel Qadir and Commander Solon.\"\n\n\"What about?\"\n\n\"How to deal with Monroe and recover the Agent Pandora.\"\n\n\"They're going to help us?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\nDavidson sat on a folding chair and described the meeting in the Colonel's tent.\n\nHelen said: \"So, we're rolling out of here at about 8 p.m.?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nTed coughed. \"I'm going with you.\"\n\n\"No, you're not.\"\n\n\"Yes, I am. It won't matter if I get shot. I'm a lot closer to death than the rest of you.\"\n\n\"Your health is the problem. When we break into the Palace, we'll have to move very fast. We have to grab the canisters of Agent Pandora within minutes, before anyone uses them. You don't have the energy for that, I'm afraid. You'll just slow us down.\"\n\nTed frowned and sighed. \"I see your point.\"\n\nPhilip said: \"I'm going.\"\n\nPhilip had already killed a man and was brilliant with a gun. There was no good reason to refuse him. Davidson said: \"OK. As long as you do what you're told and don't try to be a hero. I don't want to tell Ted you got killed, understand?\"\n\n\"I won't cause any trouble, I promise.\"\n\nDavidson looked at Ted, who nodded reluctantly. \"Then you can come along.\"\n\nHelen said: \"I'm going too.\"\n\nDavidson had feared she would demand that. \"I don't want you to.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"If you go, I'll worry about you the whole time.\"\n\n\"So what?\"\n\n\"That's a distraction I don't need. I'll be safer if I just worry about myself.\"\n\n\"But I'll be there to protect you.\"\n\n\"It won't work out like that. Sorry, this time I don't think you should go.\"\n\n\"But ...\"\n\n\"Please.\"\n\nA frown. \"OK. I'll stay here and, maybe, darn your socks.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\"Don't do anything stupid or brave.\"\n\n\"I won't.\"\n\nShe did not look convinced.\nCHAPTER SEVENTEEN\n\nDavidson, Commander Solon and Colonel Qadir met several times during the afternoon and early evening to fine-tune the plan of attack. Then, just before 8 p.m., Davidson and Philip said goodbye to Ted and Helen and strode towards the motor park. Davidson wore an Alliance camouflage smock and carried a rifle; Philip defiantly wore his cowboy outfit and a holstered revolver. The whole camp was in black-out mode. A half-moon provided tepid illumination. The air was chilly.\n\nA line of twenty olive-green troop trucks, engines running and headlights off, were parked in a line. Colonel Qadir and his officers were scurrying about to ensure that 300 fighters were climbing aboard the right trucks.\n\nDavidson and Philip headed for the last truck where Solon and the surviving 15 members of his personal bodyguard stood in small groups, clearly very comfortable with each other. All wore Alliance uniforms and distinctive blue caps, and were heavily armed.\n\nSolon stood with Captain Larkin, slightly apart.\n\nDavidson smiled at Solon. \"Hello, Commander, good weather for a fight.\"\n\n\"Yes, I've always preferred fighting in the cold.\"\n\n\"This is Philip, my, umm, nephew. He's very handy with his revolver and won't let us down.\"\n\nSolon and Larkin glanced at the cowboy outfit and did not comment.\n\nSolon said: \"Fine, but he'll have to travel in the back of the truck with the rest of the boys.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Sure.\" He nodded towards the others. \"They're the last of your bodyguard?\"\n\n\"Yes, some went home, some are dead and some just disappeared. These guys were the core of it, anyway - the best of the lot. I don't deserve to lead them.\"\n\n\"They've got their instructions?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And you've split them up into two teams?\"\n\n\"Yes. When we get inside the Palace, I'll command Team A, which will head for Monroe's private quarters. You and Philip will join my team. Captain Larkin will command Team B and head for the Chancellor's Office. Is that understood?\"\n\nDavidson nodded. \"Got it\".\n\nSolon stepped into the midst of his men and said loudly. \"Alright, everyone, listen up. You know the plan and you know what's at stake. When we enter the Palace, take no prisoners and leave the wounded for later. Focus on recovering the canisters. That is the top priority. I'll give all my remaining cigars to whoever grabs them.\"\n\nA voice said: \"How many have you got left?\"\n\n\"Two and a half.\"\n\nThat provoked laughter.\n\n\"Now, climb aboard.\"\n\nA fighter sat behind the steering wheel of the truck, and Solon and Davidson sat beside him. The rest of the fighters and Philip climbed into the back and sat inside the canvas shell.\n\nFive minutes later, the convoy snaked out of the camp.\n\nAs their truck passed through the main gate, Davidson said to Solon: \"You get on well with Colonel Qadir, don't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, though, at the start, I had no choice. If I gave him an order he didn't like, he would not obey it. Lots of my subordinates were like that. It's a miracle we achieved anything. But Abdul and I also understand each other because we're both outsiders: I'm black and he's Muslim. That creates a natural bond.\"\n\n\"Are you saying you never really belonged in the Alliance army?\"\n\n\"In a way, I didn't. My bodyguard and most of the army didn't care about my color. But some did. They only tolerated me because I knew my job.\"\n\nThe half-moon let the trucks cross the darkened city with their headlights off. About three miles from the Palace, the lead truck turned right onto Pauling Boulevard and headed towards the botanical garden. The rest of the convoy followed it. Only Solon's truck went straight ahead.\n\nThe driver followed Davidson's instructions and drove down back streets until he reached the central plaza and parked in the narrow gap between the Webster Mausoleum and the Hall of Guardians. The monuments facing the plaza were dark, except for the Palace lit like a birthday cake.\n\nSolon glanced at his watch. \"20.30 hours. Not long to wait.\" He turned to Davidson. \"Our attack could get very ugly very fast. The entrance hall is easy to defend. If Monroe's men get a chance to consolidate, it'll be a death trap.\"\n\nThe chilly air did not explain the shiver than ran through Davidson. \"I know. I prefer to win a battle before it starts. Not this time. It's a roll of the dice.\"\n\nA deep sigh. \"You were right, you know, about Monroe.\"\n\n\"In what way?\"\n\n\"I should have dealt with him a lot earlier. If I had, we wouldn't be in this situation. I misjudged him. He was always biding his time, waiting to seize power.\"\n\n\"At least you woke up.\" Davidson realized he knew very little about a man with whom he would soon risk his life. \"So, tell me, why'd you join the Alliance army?\"\n\nA grin. \"I wish I could say I had a deep and burning hatred of Webster City. I didn't. My family farmed the same plot in Maine for two centuries. Webster City didn't affect us much. But I read a lot of adventure books when I was a kid and didn't want to become a farmer. Have you ever read a book - well, a play - called Cyrano de Bergerac?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Someone gave it to me when I was twelve. It's about a swordsman with a big nose who wants to live with courage and style - what he called panache. I read that book a dozen times and wanted to do brave things, like him, and see the world. So, I ran away from the farm when I was 17 and joined the Alliance. Best decision I ever made. I loved being a soldier; I loved the excitement and danger. It was heaven.\" A chuckle. \"After a while, I even started believing in the cause. That was a bonus.\"\n\n\"'Solon' is an alias, I take it?\"\n\n\"Of course. I joined the Alliance to start a new life, so I chose a new name.\"\n\n\"You chose well. What's your real name?\"\n\nA grin. \"You don't need to know. I've almost forgotten it myself.\"\n\n\"Then what's your first name?\"\n\nA wider grin. \"I'll tell you that. It's 'Commander'.\"\n\n\"Hah. I won't get far, will I?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"What will you do after we've dealt with Monroe and recovered the super-virus?\"\n\nA sigh. \"I don't know. I fought the City for 20 years. That consumed every moment of every day. I now feel as if I've survived too long: I've outlived my army, good friends and even the cause I fought for. Two weeks ago, I could order men to their deaths. Tomorrow, I'll become a soldier with no more wars to fight - a nobody. My big adventure will be over. I don't know what I'll do.\"\n\n\"You could help rebuild this city?\"\n\n\"It's too late for that - this city is doomed - and I'm a soldier, not a politician.\"\n\nDavidson had felt similar despair about his future. At least, though, he had Helen to give his life meaning. Solon was obviously alone.\n\nDavidson did not think Solon had a death wish, but worried that survivor's guilt and anguish about the future would make him careless about his safety.\n\nHe said: \"It would be very silly to get killed now, after surviving so much.\"\n\nSolon snapped out of his revered and smiled. \"That's very true. Don't worry, I intend to put a bullet between Monroe's eyes and watch him being buried. I guarantee that. Then, we'll have a glass of wine together.\"\n\nThe back-pack radio on the floor crackled and they heard \"Sergeant Aziz\" from the \"Fifth Platoon\" make contact with Muslim Brigade headquarters. He excitedly explained that his platoon had located Isaiah Webster at the Amusement Park.\n\nThe headquarters operator said: \"Are you sure it is Isaiah Webster?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm looking at him through my binoculars right now.\"\n\n\"Is he alone?\"\n\n\"No, about 20 Palace Guardsmen are with him.\"\n\n\"You say you're at the Amusement Park?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Has he spotted you?\"\n\n\"No. But they're loading some trucks. They may be about to leave. What does Colonel Qadir want us to do?\"\n\n\"The Colonel has gone to bed. I'll wake him and get some orders.\"\n\n\"Good. Please hurry.\"\n\n\"Will do. Over and out.\"\n\nSolon glanced at Davidson. \"That sounded convincing.\"\n\n\"I almost believed it.\"\n\nDavidson rested his elbows on the dashboard and studied the Palace intently. New lights sprouted in its windows and trucks revved inside the main gates.\n\nSolon raised a pair of binoculars and trained them on the main portico. He chuckled. \"Lots of fighters leaving the building and climbing into trucks. Looks good, so far.\"\n\n\"Can you see Monroe or Maxwell?\"\n\n\"No, we're too far away.\"\n\nA few minutes later, the main gates swung open and six trucks surged into the darkness, headlights blazing. They obviously contained well over 100 fighters. Monroe had stripped the Palace bare in an effort to snare Pettigrew.\n\nDavidson and Solon had agreed their party would not attack the Palace until the Muslim Brigade launched its ambush. While waiting, a strong tide of fatalism swept over Davidson. The City was in hell and his brother on the brink of death. Even if he survived this raid, he would probably not live long. Nor would those close to him. However, he had promised Helen that he would return alive. That promise suddenly assumed huge importance. He would do his best to survive and see her again.\n\nDavidson estimated that Monroe's detachment would run into the Muslim Brigade ambush after about three minutes. Almost right on time, gunfire erupted in the east and quickly escalated. Dozens of automatic weapons joined the angry dialogue. The crump of explosions provided a bass line. Tracer bullets and flares licked the night sky. Everybody in the City must now be awake.\n\nSolon took a deep breath and looked at the driver beside him. \"Get going, Mike. Straight through the main gate and stop under the portico.\"\n\nYes, sir.\"\n\nThe driver put the truck into gear and surged across the central plaza. The vehicle weaved past the rubble of the Webster statue and arrowed between the open main gates of the Palace. A couple of open-mouthed guards watched it barrel past. Fighters in the back of the truck gunned them down.\n\nDavidson's biggest fear was that Monroe's fighters would close the thick oak doors at the main entrance before they reached them. They had dynamite to blow them open, if necessary. But the delay could be deadly.\n\nThe truck screeched to a halt under the portico. The oak doors were still open. A couple of guards in the entrance hall moved towards them. Davidson stuck his rifle out of the passenger window and fired a long burst that knocked them over.\n\nSolon's fighters swarmed out of the truck and into the entrance hall. Heavy shooting broke out. Davidson jumped from the truck with Solon just behind him. Philip was just ahead. Davidson prayed he did nothing stupid.\n\nDavidson entered the hall and saw that a couple of Solon's bodyguards and most of Monroe's fighters were already down. The four surviving fighters retreated up a curved marble staircase, firing as they went. They disappeared around a corner and a strange calm descended on the entrance hall. Davidson only heard gunfire echoing inside his head.\n\nCaptain Larkin stepped into the open and yelled: \"Team B, follow me.\" He raced across the hall and through a large marble arch towards the Chancellor's Office with eight men behind him.\n\nSolon also stepped forward. \"Team A, after me.\"\n\nSolon had visited the Palace before and knew the route to the Chancellor's private quarters. He headed across the entrance hall and started climbing the staircase up which the fighters had retreated. Davidson, Philip and four others followed him. Team A was already below strength.\n\nThey soon discovered that one of Monroe's fighters had only faked his retreat. He appeared at the top of the stairs and sprayed bullets down them. Two more of Solon's bodyguards went down. The remainder returned fire. Solon bravely crossed the stairs, for a better angle, and unloaded half a magazine. The fighter disappeared.\n\nSolon leaped up the stairs with Davidson, Philip and the two remaining bodyguards behind him. He reached the landing and glanced down a long marble hallway. Pedestals with classical busts lined each side. At the end, another hallway created a \"T\" junction.\n\nDavidson turned to Solon. \"They could be anywhere down there.\"\n\n\"I know. But we've run out of time. We'll go down both sides.\"\n\n\"OK.\"\n\nSolon prowled along one side with two bodyguards behind him; Davidson did the same on the other side with Philip behind him. They were 20 yards from the end of the hallway when an arm swung around the corner on Davidson's side. A grenade sailed through the air. It bounced in the middle of the marble floor and skidded past the advancing men. They all dropped to the ground. It exploded about ten yards behind them, causing no harm except ringing ears. However, while they were distracted, a Monroe fighter stepped around the corner and sprayed the hallway with bullets. Solon and his two companions yelled and gasped as the bullets struck them.\n\nDavidson jumped into a statue niche, with Philip beside him, and returned fire. The fighter disappeared.\n\nDavidson was carrying a couple of grenades in his smock. He tossed both of them into the intersection at the top of the hallway. When they exploded, he rushed to the corner, with Philip at his shoulder, and glanced around it. Two Monroe fighters were running away, one limping. He fired a burst that knocked them both down.\n\nHe said to Philip. \"Wait here\".\n\nHe rushed back to Solon and his bodyguards. Both bodyguards were sprawled on the ground, obviously dead. Solon sat with his back against the wall, grimacing.\n\n\"You alright?\" Davidson said.\n\nA forced smile. \"I'm fine. Got one in the leg. Just a flesh wound. I can't get up, I'm afraid. Forget about me. I'll be fine. Get the canisters - go, go.\"\n\nDavidson had to complete the mission. \"OK, I'll be back.\"\n\nHe returned to the junction and led Philip past the two corpses he had just created. Monroe's living quarters were just ahead.\n\nTo his surprise, heavy gunfire caught his ear. A major gun-battle had broken out somewhere in the Palace. Maybe Larkin ran into big trouble when he reached the Chancellor's Office. The longer he listened to the gunfire, the more confident he became that it emanated from the main entrance hall. Maybe some of Monroe's team escaped the ambush and returned to the Palace. He desperately wanted to find out what was happening, but had to focus on recovering the canisters.\n\nWith Philip trailing behind him, he crossed a small vestibule, cautiously pushed open a sliding door and edged into a vast bedroom with fake Venetian furnishings. The room was big enough to trivialize the huge ornate bed. This must be where Monroe slept.\n\nHis eyes were drawn to a wall safe with the door open. He crept over and looked inside. Empty. Sitting directly underneath it was an ornate dining chair with wood shavings scattered around it. The looked oddly familiar. He remembered where he had seen them before. When he visited Monroe's office, several days ago, an Alliance captain sat outside it, whittling a piece of wood, scattering shavings.\n\nDavidson realized that, before Monroe left the Palace, he put the canisters of Agent Pandora in the safe and told the Captain to guard them. When the Captain discovered that Solon and his men had attacked the Palace, he took the canisters from the safe and disappeared. Where to?\n\nBeyond the wall safe was a half-opened door. Davidson gently pushed open the door and saw a long passage with windows on one side. The Captain must have escaped down the passage.\n\nDavidson was about to head down it when he noticed a small wood shaving in front of a walk-in wardrobe across the bedroom. His heart-rate surged. The half-open door was a ruse. The Captain and the canisters were in the wardrobe.\n\nDavidson turned to Philip, put a finger to his lips and pointed meaningfully at the wardrobe. He spoke loudly. \"Nobody in here, let's go. Follow me.\"\n\nDavidson slammed the door shut and crouched, waiting, his AK-47 ready. A few seconds later, the Captain appeared cautiously at the wardrobe entrance, a heavy pack on his back, holding a pistol.\n\nHe saw Davidson too late. Davidson wanted to avoid hitting the canisters and aimed at the head. His bullet took the Captain in the neck instead. Blood reached the high ceiling and the Captain collapsed to the ground.\n\nDavidson and Philip rushed over to his body. The blood was just percolating out. His eyes went from beseeching to blank. Air stopped whistling from the hole in his neck.\n\nDavidson rested his rifle against the bed, rolled the Captain onto his belly and pulled off the backpack. He stood and opened the top flap. Three canisters of Agent Pandora sat snugly inside, undamaged. \"Thank God.\"\n\nA loud voice behind. \"Give me the canisters.\"\n\nDavidson and Philip spun around.\n\nSecretary Monroe and a tall Alliance fighter stood just inside the door of the bedroom, pointing rifles at them. Davidson's rifle rested against the bed and Philip had holstered his revolver.\n\nAfter glancing at Philip's cowboy outfit, Monroe stared at Davidson, his big facial scar now cherry red. \"I should have killed you when I had the chance. Big mistake. The moment we were ambushed, I knew you were trying to recover the Agent Pandora. Fortunately, I was at the back of the column and escaped with a couple of trucks. The Muslim Brigade chased us back here. But I'll soon be long gone, with the canisters. Hand them over, carefully.\"\n\nDavidson knew he was only still alive because he held the pack containing the canisters in front of him. When it was out of the line of fire, Monroe would cut him down.\n\n\"OK,\" Davidson said and stepped towards Monroe with the pack before him.\n\nA scowl. \"No, no. Put it on the bed and step back.\"\n\n\"OK.\"\n\nPhilip once boasted to Davidson that he could draw against the drop and survive, and Davidson warned that nobody was that fast. When Davidson said that, he assumed Philip would try to draw against only one opponent. Now, there were two. Drawing against both would be total madness. However, it was their only chance of survival. Philip would be crazy to draw and crazy not to.\n\nDavidson's respect for Philip had grown. But even he was a little surprised when Philip opted to draw. Philip whipped out his revolver with blinding speed and fired several shots that blended into one. Bullets seemed to strike Monroe and his henchman simultaneously. Their legs buckled and they flopped to the floor, arms flapping and weapons spinning free.\n\nJesus, Philip really could draw against the drop. Davidson felt a surge of elation. He dumped the pack on the bed, scooped up his rifle and aimed at the two bodies on the floor, alert for any sign of life. None. The big bullet holes in their chests explained why.\n\nHe turned to congratulate Philip and saw the kid was sitting with his back against a wall, holding a bloody left shoulder. Monroe or his henchman must have got off a shot which blended with Philip's shots.\n\nFear shook Davidson. \"My God, are you alright?\"\n\nA shocked expression. \"Got hit, I'm afraid.\"\n\nDavidson scrambled over and studied the shoulder, now oozing blood. It looked like the bullet went through flesh, without hitting bone. However, there was a serious danger that Philip would bleed to death.\n\n\"How do you feel?\"\n\n\"It hurts.\"\n\n\"That's a good sign, believe me.\" Davidson tore off a pillow cover, folded it over and pressed it against the wound. Philip winced.\n\nDavidson said: \"Hold that firmly against your shoulder.\"\n\nPhilip held the fabric and winced again. A weak smile. \"I thought I was faster than that.\"\n\n\"Don't be stupid. They both had the drop and you still did the business. That was amazing.\"\n\n\"Who were they?\"\n\n\"One was Secretary Monroe. I don't know the other guy.\"\n\nA thin smile. \"Secretary Monroe? Seriously? I killed Secretary Monroe?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"He didn't look like much.\"\n\n\"Hah, he's nothing now. I'll get some help.\" Davidson slung the pack onto his back - he would not let the canisters out of his sight - and picked up his rifle. He slid over to the sliding door and realized that the shooting at the entrance hall had died away. Were Muslim Brigade or Monroe fighters coming this way? He would find out soon enough.\n\nHe peeked down the long hallway. A couple of Alliance fighters were scuttling towards him. He was about to spray them with bullets when he noticed their Muslim Brigade patches.\n\nHe yelled. \"Allah, Akbar.\"\n\nThey ducked behind marble busts. One yelled. \"Who're you?\"\n\n\"Carl Davidson. I'm part of Commander Solon's team. Where is Colonel Qadir?\"\n\n\"Slide your rifle out into the hallway and step out with your hands high - touch the ceiling.\"\n\nDavidson had to get Philip urgent medical attention and could not afford to argue. \"OK, I'm coming out.\"\n\nHe slid his rifle out and stepped into the hallway, hands high.\n\nA Sergeant stepped from behind a marble bust and nervously pointed his rifle at Davidson. \"What's in the pack you're wearing?\"\n\n\"Three canisters of a super-virus.\"\n\nThe rifle shook. \"Take it off.\"\n\n\"No. They're the reason we're fighting. Get Colonel Qadir. Tell him that Carl Davidson has recovered the Agent Pandora. He'll understand that. I repeat: Carl Davidson has recovered the Agent Pandora.\"\n\nThe Sergeant paused and looked at a companion. \"Did you hear that? Go and tell Colonel Qadir what he said, then get back here.\"\n\nThe other fighter raced back down the hallway and passed several Muslim Brigade fighters warily coming up it.\n\nDavidson watched them arrive. \"Any of you a medic?\"\n\nA short guy with a bushy-beard said. \"I can do first aid. Who's wounded?\"\n\n\"My friend, in the bedroom. He's part of Solon's team. Will you look at him?\"\n\nThe fighter looked at the Sergeant, who nodded, and slipped into the bedroom.\n\nA minute later, Colonel Qadir strode towards them with several fighters in tow, including the messenger the Sergeant sent. He stopped in front of Davidson, looking grim. \"Carl, I'm glad you're alive. I hear you have the Agent Pandora.\"\n\n\"Yes, it's in the pack on my back.\"\n\n\"Good, good. Keep it there.\"\n\n\"Your ambush did not go smoothly?\"\n\nA frown. \"They never do. Monroe's convoy was spread out. A couple of trucks didn't reach the kill zone and headed back towards the Palace. We chased them here. The fighters made their last stand in the entrance hall. We know Monroe was among them, but haven't seen him yet.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, he's in the bedroom behind me.\"\n\n\"Captured?\"\n\n\"Dead.\"\n\nA relieved smile. \"Good, good. Who killed him?\"\n\n\"My nephew.\"\n\n\"The cowboy?\"\n\n\"Gunfighter, actually. He's wounded but should be alright. One of your men is treating him right now. Did you suffer many casualties?\"\n\nA sigh. \"About a dozen dead. It could have been worse, I suppose. Solon's bodyguard suffered more. There aren't many left.\"\n\n\"Solon is back up the hallway, with a leg wound. Did you see him?\"\n\nThe Colonel looked gray. \"Yes, but he's dead, I'm afraid.\"\n\nDavidson was shocked. \"Dead?\"\n\n\"Yes, dead.\"\n\n\"He said he just had a flesh wound - that he'd be fine.\"\n\n\"He was lying. His condition was a lot worse than that. He had two in the spine. He was never going to survive long.\"\n\nSolon obviously pretended to be lightly wounded to make sure Davidson left him and chased after the canisters. Davidson wanted to cry. \"Where's his body?\"\n\n\"We took it down to the entrance hall. Where is Monroe's body?\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Follow me.\"\n\nDavidson led Colonel Qadir into the bedroom, where two corpses lay on the floor and the bushy-bearded fighter was bandaging Philip's shoulder.\n\nQadir kicked Monroe's ribs. \"Dead, alright.\" He looked over at Philip. \"You killed him?\"\n\n\"Both of them.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"He had to draw against the drop.\"\n\nEyebrows raised. \"Really? You must be very quick.\"\n\nAn endearing blush. \"I get it out pretty fast.\"\n\n\"Well done. I wish I saw that.\" Qadir looked at the fighter bandaging Philip. \"He'll be alright?\"\n\n\"I think so, though the Doc should see him.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"You have a doctor?\"\n\n\"Not a real one. He didn't finish the last year of his medical degree at Webster University; he got expelled for taking a cadaver to a party. But he's quite good. I'll make sure that he looks at your nephew as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Meanwhile, hold onto that pack and don't give it to any strangers.\"\nCHAPTER EIGHTEEN\n\nDavidson spent the next hour waiting with Philip for the almost-qualified doctor to arrive. They chatted a little, but Philip spent most of the time sleeping. Then, a fighter carrying a heavy medical pack rushed into the bedroom and identified himself as Lieutenant Omar, \"the Brigade doctor\".\n\nAfter giving Philip a quick examination, he hurriedly cleaned and re-bandaged his wound and injected a tetanus vaccine. \"You should be alright if you rest up and take it easy. We'll transport you back to the camp and look after you there.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Does he need a blood transfusion?\"\n\n\"Probably. But blood supplies are short and other guys need them a hell of a lot more. Don't worry, I'll monitor his condition.\" The Lieutenant picked up his pack. \"A stretcher party will arrive soon and carry him down to the truck.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nThe Lieutenant steamed out of the bedroom and a stretcher party arrived ten minutes later. The two bearers gently lifted Philip onto a stretcher and headed towards the Palace's front entrance. Davidson heaved the pack with the canisters of Agent Pandora onto his back and trailed after them.\n\nThey descended the long, curved marble staircase into the entrance hall, now splattered with bullet holes. The massive chandelier had crashed to the ground and ejected a spray of crystal shards. The bloodied corpses of twenty fighters, from both sides, lay side by side. Commander Solon was near the middle. A blanket over his torso hid his wounds. His face was unmarked and his expression strangely placid. Davidson emitted a long sigh. How strange that, after dodging death for so many years, Solon died during his last battle. Davidson consoled himself that maybe, deep down, Solon did not want to survive. He feared peace more than war.\n\nDavidson was about to follow the stretcher party carrying Philip out through the portico when he noticed Colonel Qadir and two of his officers standing with a frightened Colonel Maxwell.\n\nDavidson peeled off and approached them. \"You caught Maxwell?\"\n\nQadir turned. \"Yes, and we're deciding what to do with him. We're going to release the other fighters. Without Monroe, they're not dangerous. But the Colonel is a special case. He's still dangerous. I'm inclined to shoot him. What do you think?\"\n\nDavidson looked at Maxwell, nervously rocking on his feet. \"What was Monroe going to do with the Agent Pandora?\"\n\nMaxwell shivered. \"He, ahh, only took it to make sure it was safe.\"\n\n\"Rubbish. He stole it in the middle of the night and organized for his supporters to be vaccinated. He planned to release it, didn't he?\"\n\n\"I don't know what he planned. He didn't tell me. I just followed orders.\"\n\n\"What a sad defense.\" Davidson felt an old mental itch he had to scratch. \"You've got a personal grudge against me, haven't you?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I annoyed you somehow, in the past?\"\n\nA defiant expression. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\nA long pause and a scowl. \"You killed my wife.\"\n\nThat news jolted Davidson. \"I what?\"\n\nPain and anger replaced fear on Maxwell's face. \"My wife, Elaine, was part of the team that infiltrated the Center for Disease Control a month ago, to stop the super-virus being spread. You killed her.\"\n\nAn attractive young woman was killed during the shoot-out. Davidson tried to remember if he shot her or a Center guard did. It was a guard. He knocked down other fighters. But that was a cheap excuse. \"Why didn't you go on that mission?\"\n\nMaxwell frowned. \"Secretary Monroe would not let me.\"\n\n\"And you just followed orders?\"\n\nA scowl. \"Yes.\"\n\nDavidson was sure that, if his wife went on a mission like that, he would have joined her, whatever his orders. He respected her, not Maxwell. \"I'm sorry she died, I truly am. She was a brave woman.\"\n\nMaxwell looked lost. \"She was.\"\n\nColonel Qadir looked at Davidson. \"What should I do with Maxwell?\"\n\nMaxwell was a key supporter of Secretary Monroe who threatened to kill Helen and had a hand in the death of Commander Solon. However, Davidson was tired of killing and felt guilty about the way Maxwell's wife died. \"That's up to you, of course, but I'd cut him loose. He's no threat and too many people have died already. I'm sure that Allah wants you to show mercy.\"\n\nColonel Qadir slowly tapped his right foot before raising his eyebrows. \"I'm sure He does. But I have lost men - good men - tonight. And, of course, Maxwell would show us no mercy.\"\n\nDavidson shrugged. \"I am just giving you my opinion. I am not begging for his life. I would not dare. It's up to you.\"\n\nMore foot tapping and a wan smile. \"You're right. Time for us to stop being beasts. We'll hold him at the camp until we leave for Florida, then release him.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"Generous and wise.\"\n\nA frown. \"Mmm, maybe.\"\n\nMaxwell looked surprised and relieved, though not grateful.\n\nDavidson saw his holster was empty. \"Where's my Glock?\"\n\nAn officer reached behind his waistband and pulled out a pistol. \"You talking about this Glock? I took it off him.\"\n\nIt was Davidson's pistol. \"Yes, that's it.\"\n\n\"Do you want it back?\"\n\nDavidson used the Glock as a tool of the trade when a major in the Internal Security Bureau. That job was gone. Those days were over. Time to find another weapon. \"No, you keep it.\"\n\n\"You sure? It's an original.\"\n\n\"I know, but you keep it.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nDavidson looked at Colonel Qadir. \"I'd better catch up with Philip. I'll see you back at the camp.\"\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\nWithout looking at Maxwell, Davidson headed towards the entrance, still wearing the pack. The stretcher-bearers had carried Philip outside and slid his stretcher into the back of a truck where several Muslim Brigade fighters already lay on stretchers. Davidson sat beside Philip, who had fallen asleep again.\n\nFive minutes later, the truck headed towards the Muslim Brigade camp. On the way, Davidson felt depressed about the death of Commander Solon, and pleased they recovered the canisters of Agent Pandora and Philip had survived. Just before they reached the camp, Philip woke and groggily asked what was happening. Davidson explained.\n\nPhilip smiled, weakly. \"I bet you're glad you don't have to tell Ted that I'm dead.\"\n\n\"I am. In fact, I'm also happy you've survived.\"\n\nA big smile. \"You are?\"\n\n\"Yes, though don't spread that around.\"\n\n\"OK.\" Philip touched his wound and grimaced. \"At least, I got shot in the left shoulder.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"The wound won't affect my draw.\"\n\nDavidson frowned. \"We've still got to talk about that.\"\n\n\"My draw?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"It's not the answer to everything.\"\n\nA grin. \"But it was tonight?\"\n\nDavidson had to smile. \"Yes, it was.\"\nCHAPTER NINETEEN\n\nAfter the death of Secretary Monroe and the destruction of his security detail, most members of the Central Committee and their supporters fled back into the Badlands. Colonel Qadir then discovered that Secretary Monroe had been sitting on a huge stockpile of food and fuel that the last Chancellor accumulated as a strategic reserve. Monroe intended to feed his supporters in the City and starve his opponents and anyone he deemed a burden on society.\n\nColonel Qadir told Davidson about the stockpile while they strolled around the camp of the Muslim Brigade. The population of the City was now half its previous level. The Colonel said his brigade would distribute the stockpile to everyone left. \"That way, most should survive the winter. Then, they'll be on their own.\"\n\n\"How long will it take you to distribute the stockpile?\"\n\n\"About a week. Then, we're going home to Florida.\"\n\n\"OK. But, before you do, we have to dispose of the Agent Pandora.\"\n\n\"Of course. What do you suggest?\"\n\nBiochemists had previously told Davidson that the super-virus could remain toxic for several hundred years and the safest - though not foolproof - method of disposal was to cache the three canisters in a steel-reinforced concrete sarcophagus and dump it in Lake Michigan. Davidson explained that to Colonel Qadir, who said he would instruct his engineer platoon to build the sarcophagus.\n\nWhen the device was finished, three days later, the leader of the platoon promised it would remain intact, at the bottom of the Lake, for at least 500 years.\n\nDavidson hoped the active ingredients in the super-virus expired within that period. \"Are you sure about that?\"\n\nThe platoon leader smiled. \"Reasonably sure. I've never done this before.\"\n\nA shrug. \"There is nothing else we can do.\"\n\nThe canisters were secreted in the sarcophagus, which was trucked to a wharf on Lake Michigan. A crane lifted it onto a barge which voyaged to the middle of the Lake. While Colonel Qadir and Davidson watched, it was tipped over the side and plunged 900 feet to the bottom. As the canisters enrobed in concrete disappeared, Davidson wondered if they had finally slain the beast that stalked them or merely put it to sleep.\n\nThe news that Alexander Webster was a genocidal maniac and not the savior of mankind had only filtered out to a small number of people. Davidson knew that, even if it became widely known, many stupid people would not accept it. To ensure that future generations did not venerate Webster's remains, he entered the Webster Mausoleum, cracked open his tomb and placed the remains in a body-bag. He took the body-bag with him on the barge and, after packing it with rocks, dropped it over the side.\n\nWhen they were back on dry land, Davidson asked the Colonel if any of his men were stonemasons.\n\n\"There are two, actually. Why?\"\n\n\"I want two headstones carved.\"\n\n\"One is for Commander Solon?\"\n\n\"Yes, and the other for Colonel Prentice. I buried him in an unmarked grave. He should have something more fitting.\"\n\nA smile. \"OK, I'll put my men to work.\"\n\nTwo days later, Commander Solon was buried in the Cathedral cemetery. Nobody knew what religious beliefs he had held, if any, and that seemed as good a place to bury him as any.\n\nAbout fifty mourners attended the burial service. They included Davidson, Helen, Colonel Qadir, Captain Larkin and the last seven survivors of Solon's bodyguard. Three of those survivors lowered a body-bag containing Solon's remains into a freshly-dug grave and shoveled dirt on top. The headstone inscription said: 'Commander Solon. Leader of the Freedom Alliance Army that conquered Webster City. A great soldier and a great man.'\n\nQadir gave a brief eulogy. After extolling Solon's brilliance as a soldier, he said: \"It's hard to be an army general and a human being. However, Solon always kept his basic humanity. That is why we followed him with such devotion. Nobody else could have held the Alliance Army together for so long. However, in the end, even he could not preserve it.\"\n\nQadir stepped back and Larkin and the remaining bodyguards stepped forward. They fired a three-volley salute over the grave. As the shots rang out, Davidson wondered if Solon timed his death well. Solon spent 20 years fighting for a better world that never arrived. Now, he did not have to deal with that disappointment or endure life after soldiering.\n\nAs the mourners dispersed, Davidson wanted to cry but knew that, if he did, he would not stop. He and Helen ambled across the cemetery to the spot where, two weeks ago, Davidson buried Colonel Prentice in an unmarked grave. Davidson tried to find Prentice's family before doing so. They had all disappeared. The grave now had a headstone with the inscription: 'Colonel Robert Prentice. He saved mankind.'\n\nWhile Helen laid some flowers on the grave, Davidson stood back and prayed silently to any god who was listening. Prentice wore many masks while the head of the ISB. All hid his decency and contempt for the Webster Dynasty. He eventually pulled them all off and died as well as a man could. The headstone did not lie. He did save mankind. Yet, history, if it ever returned, would ignore his deed. Only Davidson and Helen would remember it. When they died, there would just be a headstone that few noticed and nobody understood.\n\nAfter recovering the canisters of Agent Pandora, Davidson turned his mind back to Professor Pettigrew and how to locate him? Davidson was deeply suspicious of any attempt to cheat nature and extend human life beyond its natural span. Surely, that just cheapened life. However, the prospect of living a longer life made him tingle, and he wanted to meet a man who could produce that miracle and look 30 years younger than his true age.\n\nThe only place where Davidson might discover the Professor's whereabouts was in the office of Colonel Prentice at Internal Security Bureau Headquarters. The Colonel monitored Pettigrew for a long time without Davidson knowing that. He probably kept a file on Pettigrew stored somewhere in his office.\n\nColonel Qadir gave Helen a lift from the Cathedral back to the Muslim Brigade camp. Meanwhile, Davidson drove his Alliance troop truck over to ISB Headquarters and parked in a lane behind it.\n\nThere was nothing fancy about the headquarters. It was a five-story concrete column that exuded a dull menace, as it was supposed to do. Today, under a dark sky and with no lighting, it looked especially sinister. Davidson assumed that nobody had entered it for many days.\n\nIt was easy to get inside. Someone had already busted open a fire escape door facing onto a side alley. Davidson used a flashlight to climb through darkness to the fifth floor and found another broken door.\n\nHe stepped into a pitch-black corridor with a linoleum floor. He was so familiar with the layout of the building that he could probably navigate around it in the dark. However, he used the flashlight to walk for twenty yards and turn right into the outer-office of Colonel Prentice's suite.\n\nDavidson scanned the office with his flashlight. Throughout history, whenever a brutal regime fell, its security agencies tried to destroy their files. The Alliance struck the City so hard and fast that the ISB had no time to do that. Previous intruders into this office - probably the first wave of Alliance fighters - had busted open the filing cabinets and scattered many of the files all over the floor.\n\nHe crossed the room and opened the door of Colonel Prentice's office. A long window overlooked the central plaza and allowed in plenty of light. The office had changed little since the last time he was there. The Colonel hated clutter and stored most of his files elsewhere. That meant the intruders had little to ransack. Only a few bits of paper lay on the floor. The biggest change was to the view from the window. The statue of Alexander Webster in the central plaza, which once seized the eye, was scattered rubble.\n\nThe office still had two framed photographs of Alexander Webster on the walls. Davidson once thought the presence of the extra photograph demonstrated the Colonel's fanatical loyalty to the Webster Dynasty. Later, he realized that the Colonel was ridiculing the general subservience to it.\n\nBehind one of the photographs was a safe in which the Colonel kept important documents. Davidson often watched him use a combination number, noted on the back of the photograph, to open the safe. Davidson now used that number to open the safe and look inside. It contained several spike files and the Chancellor's Medal of Valor that the Colonel was awarded. Davidson glanced through the files and saw that one concerned Professor Pettigrew.\n\nHe took it over to the desk, sat down and flipped through it with a tingling hand. Most of the file contained the standard Civic Reliability Reports that all employers regularly submitted to the ISB about their employees. In them, the Professor's superiors summarized his recent activities and said they had no reason to suspect his loyalty to the Chancellor or the City. None mentioned an anti-aging drug. Davidson had always through that such reports were a huge waste of time and energy. These ones confirmed that.\n\nNear the bottom of the pile were several photographs of a chubby man in his early forties which were taken at a cocktail party and a restaurant dinner. The man was obviously Pettigrew.\n\nOnly two documents really interested Davidson. The first was a directive from the last Chancellor to Colonel Prentice which said that, if the ISB received any information about Professor Pettigrew or had any contact with him, it should immediately notify the Chancellor. Davidson had never seen a directive like that before. Maybe the directive itself made the Colonel investigate the Professor.\n\nThe other document of interest was a small map of Webster University. Someone, presumably Colonel Prentice, had circled a building labeled \"Squash Courts.\" Attached to the map were several photographs of a well-equipped laboratory. Davidson quickly connected the dots. Colonel Prentice must have discovered that Pettigrew was manufacturing his anti-aging drug in a secret laboratory under the Squash Courts Building.\n\nDavidson spun around in the Colonel's chair and looked out the window at a desolate central plaza. Bruised clouds threatened to burst. All of the public monuments looked bland and derivative. They would not even make good ruins.\n\nShould he go to the university and inspect the laboratory? Pettigrew might be there. Davidson was strongly tempted to forget about Pettigrew and concentrate on the day-to-day struggle to survive. However, the prospect of a longer life had created a small fever inside him. He saw how it drove men mad. The best way to extinguish it was to inspect the laboratory. When he found out that Pettigrew was not there, he would be forced to forget about him.\n\nDuring its 200 years of existence, Webster University never offered a humanities course. Its sole purpose was to pump out the professionals and scientists that the City needed to provide a decent standard of living.\n\nThe university campus made no attempt to romanticize or glorify the acquisition of knowledge. The heart of the campus was a set of barrack-like buildings arranged in a cruciform pattern. Standing at the intersection was, of course, a large marble statue of Alexander Webster. Orbiting the cruciform structure was a dull collection of dormitories, laboratories and sports venues. The only building with any individuality was the Administration Center which had a few whimsical art deco touches. Davidson often wondered how the architect got away with them.\n\nThe Squash Courts Building was a squat brick structure which, unlike most of its neighbors, had the good fortune to be hidden behind a wall of trees. Davidson drove through a deserted and vandalized campus, and parked outside it. Toting his rifle, he walked up the flagstone pathway to the main entrance. Someone had conveniently shattered the glass front doors. With glass crunching underfoot, he entered a small hall with a reception desk. Signs pointed towards the \"Squash Courts\" and \"Change Rooms\".\n\nThe laboratory that Colonel Prentice identified on the map was surely underground. Davidson stepped into the fire escape and saw that the stairs kept going down. Why? He pulled out his flashlight and descended two flights until he reached a big heavy door which said: \"Access Forbidden; Dangerous Chemicals in Use.\"\n\nThe door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open and stepped into a small vestibule with another big heavy door on the other side. That door was wide open. He stepped through it into the laboratory that he saw in the photographs that Colonel Prentice possessed.\n\nHe thought the laboratory was vacant until he stumbled over a body lying face down. Pettigrew? He turned it over. The face was heavily bruised and there was a big bullet hole in the forehead. However, it was unmistakably that of Isaiah Webster. The last hope of the Webster Dynasty, which ruled the City for 300 years, was rotting meat in a basement laboratory. His fate proved that dynasties collapse very slowly, then very fast.\n\nDavidson wondered who killed him and what happened to Professor Pettigrew. However, he had no leads to pursue. Time to give up the chase. He went back upstairs, crunched out to his truck and drove back to the Muslim Brigade camp.\n\nHelen saw his truck enter the camp and headed for the motor park. She was waiting for him when he climbed out of the cabin. \"Did you find Pettigrew?\"\n\n\"No.\" He explained how he located the secret laboratory and only found the corpse of Isaiah Webster.\n\n\"Wow, the Webster Dynasty ended with a whimper. Are you going to keep looking for Pettigrew?\"\n\n\"No point. I'll just be chasing my tail. I wouldn't feel comfortable looking for him, anyway.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"While I was looking for him, I got greedy for more life and less interested in the life I have. That was a bad feeling.\"\n\n\"I see your point.\" A shrug. \"I guess the last thing we should worry about is old age. I'll be happy if we're alive in a year's time. That will be a triumph.\"\nCHAPTER TWENTY\n\nDavidson and Colonel Qadir regularly strolled around the camp together to discuss recent developments. The following afternoon, while they did so, Davidson described how he tried to find Professor Pettigrew and ended up finding the corpse of Isaiah Webster at the university.\n\nThey left the tent area and ambled across the motor park. The Colonel smiled. \"I'm glad to hear he's dead. He was the last possible rallying point of the Webster Dynasty. I didn't think he could regain power. But he might have caused trouble. You didn't find Professor Pettigrew?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nThe Colonel chuckled. \"You should not worry about that.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"We found him; or, to be more precise, he found us.\"\n\nDavidson felt a jolt. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"He wandered into the Chancellor's Palace this morning, looking for help, and spoke to one of my men. It's ironic, isn't it? If Secretary Monroe had stayed in the Palace, instead of rushing out to capture Pettigrew, he would still be alive and have Pettigrew under his control.\"\n\nDavidson was not interested in irony. \"How did Pettigrew get there?\"\n\n\"You can ask him yourself if you want.\"\n\n\"I can?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Where is he?\"\n\n\"In my tent. Let's go and see him.\"\n\nThe Colonel laughed and led Davidson to his large tent at the end of the dirt avenue. They went through the canvas anteroom into the main office, where a man was slumped on a swivel chair, sleeping. He had brown hair, a slightly chubby face and wore a rumpled shirt and dirty slacks. Despite his birth certificate saying he was 82 years old, he looked to be in his early fifties. Davidson almost gasped. Here was myth made flesh.\n\nQadir spoke loudly. \"Professor Pettigrew.\"\n\nThe sleeping man jerked awake and gave Qadir a bleary look. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Professor, this is Carl Davidson, who once worked for the Internal Security Bureau. I trust him. He knows about your anti-aging drug.\"\n\nPettigrew turned unfocused eyes upon Davidson. \"Hello.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"I understand that you provided the drug to the last Chancellor?\"\n\n\"Yes, and some of his henchmen. He basically kept me prisoner for many years.\"\n\n\"Then, when the City fell, Isaiah Webster grabbed you?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'd been giving him the drug for about ten years and he wanted to make sure that continued. Like his father, he was desperate to cheat God.\"\n\n\"Did you continue giving him the drug?\"\n\n\"Not exactly.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"He had a small gang of about 15 former Palace Guardsmen. When they found out about the drug, they all demanded it. However, I didn't have enough pills and couldn't make a new batch. I always made them in a secret lab at the University. But a vital machine was broken and I lacked an important ingredient, anyway.\"\n\n\"What did you do?\"\n\n\"I pretended I was making a new batch, but really gave them painkillers.\" A shrug. \"They wouldn't have found out for several years.\"\n\nDavidson laughed. \"How did you end up at the Chancellor's Palace?\"\n\n\"Isaiah Webster kept claiming he would regain power and reward all of his followers. However, after a couple of weeks, they realized that was all bullshit. The City wasn't worth retaking and Isaiah certainly wasn't the man to do it. Disillusionment set in. Isaiah and his two lieutenants argued and came to blows. While everyone was watching them, I went for a walk and ended up at the Chancellor's Palace. I don't know what happened to Isaiah after I left.\"\n\n\"I can tell you.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Davidson explained how he visited the secret laboratory the previous afternoon and found Isaiah Webster's corpse on the floor. \"Someone had put a bullet through his brain. The situation obviously escalated after you left.\"\n\n\"Looks like it. I'm not surprised though. Isaiah loved talking tough and giving orders. But he was really a mummy's boy. Totally out of his depth.\"\n\n\"So, you have no anti-aging pills left?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"And you can't make any more?\"\n\n\"Not unless you rebuild the City and rebuild my laboratory.\"\n\nDavidson laughed. \"That won't happen. You took the drug too, didn't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, for the last 30 years.\"\n\n\"What'll happen to you, now?\"\n\n\"I'll start aging again at my normal rate, of course.\"\n\n\"Does that bother you?\"\n\n\"No. Slowing aging had a lot of drawbacks. You outlive your friends and life gets pretty boring, believe me: nothing is important; you have no priorities - days just sail past.\"\n\n\"What will you do now?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I am - was \\- a Professor of Biology. I'm also a qualified doctor. Surely, someone needs my skills.\"\n\nThe Colonel smiled. \"My brigade is about to return to Florida. You can come with us if you want. You will be the first qualified doctor in Florida; you can even start the first university there.\"\n\n\"Will I be the Dean?\"\n\n\"You will be everything.\"\n\n\"Will I have to become a Muslim?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nA shrug. \"OK.\"\n\nLater that day, Davidson and his three companions sat together in their camp tent. The antibiotic pills that Ted was taking had put color in his face and stifled his cough. Philip was now mobile, though his bandaged left shoulder remained stiff.\n\nDavidson described his conversation with the Colonel and subsequent meeting with Pettigrew.\n\nHelen laughed. \"So, Pettigrew couldn't make any more pills. Secretary Monroe was chasing a fantasy.\"\n\n\"Yes, and it killed him. In any event, the Muslim Brigade is pulling out in a week. We have to decide whether to stay in this city or leave.\"\n\nTed said: \"I want to go back to my ranch in Kansas. You and Helen should come along. It's a tough life - no fancy doctors or dentists or food - and bad guys will have trashed the ranch. But it's a beautiful area with a real community. People there will help me rebuild.\"\n\nDavidson stared at Helen. \"What do you want to do?\"\n\nShe stared back. \"No, you tell me what you want, first.\"\n\nDavidson wanted to go with Ted to Kansas. He felt guilty about quitting the City when it was on its back. But he did not cause its suffering. Indeed, without him, almost everyone would be dead. Nor was there any chance the City would recover. Some people would hang around and try to build something new, without success. Most who could leave would leave. However, his strongest reason for leaving had nothing to do with survival. When he discovered the City was built upon a monstrous genocide, it acquired a moral stench he wanted to escape. This was his chance.\n\nHe said: \"I'd like to go to Kansas. That's the smart move. This City is finished. The future is out in the Badlands. In twenty- or thirty-years time, it will have its own cities. What do you think?\"\n\nShe smiled. \"I agree. I want to go to Kansas. This place is a death trap. We have to go.\"\n\nDavidson looked at Ted. \"We're going with you, though I know nothing about ranching.\"\n\n\"You'll learn fast if you listen.\"\n\n\"I'm not good at that.\"\n\nA smile. \"I know. But I live in hope. At least, you've got the most important skill a rancher needs out there.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The ability to stay alive.\"\n\nDavidson looked at Philip. \"I assume you're coming along, too.\"\n\nPhilip flushed and studied his boots. \"Yeah. But when we get to the ranch, I won't stay.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I'm tired of looking at the asses of cattle all day. I want to see the world.\"\n\nDavidson wasn't surprised that Philip wanted to break away. His swagger once hid his uncertainty. After he shot Secretary Monroe, it projected real confidence.\n\n\"How will you survive?\"\n\n\"I'll become a scavenger.\"\n\nScavengers roamed the western Badlands and salvaged anything - precious gems, expensive metals, repairable machinery - that could be transported east and traded. It was dangerous work. Many scavengers preyed on each other.\n\nTed looked disappointed. \"You sure?\"\n\n\"Yes, but don't worry, the ranch is home. I'll come back and see you.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"While you're scavenging, try to use your brain and not your gun. You're good at killing. It's your greatest skill. But don't become a killer.\"\n\nA smile. \"You told me that before.\"\n\n\"I know. Did you listen?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Philip said with surprising sincerity.\n\nThey decided to drive the stolen Alliance truck and Ted's Jeep back to Kansas. The Jeep was still at the bungalow. So, the next morning, Davidson drove Ted north to collect it.\n\nWhen they reached the bungalow, Ted got behind the wheel of the Jeep and headed back to the camp. Davidson followed him in the truck. He soon realized that they would pass quite close to the carpet warehouse where Kevin Malloy had a stockpile of supplies hidden underground. Their raid on that stockpile gave them ample supplies for the trip to Kansas. However, he was curious to see if there was any activity around the warehouse.\n\nThe road passed about 200 yards from the building. Davidson slowed the truck to a crawl and studied it closely. Several white commercial vans sat in the car park, and about a dozen men in civilian gear were moving in and out of the warehouse. Several toted rifles; most carried heavy bags and boxes out to the vans. Another group had obviously discovered Malloy's stockpile and was stripping it bare. Davidson wondered what happened to Malloy and his son. Then, he saw a body in a blood-drenched white tracksuit lying face down near a van. Malloy wore that stupid tracksuit when Davidson saw him a few days ago. What happened to his son? It would be a miracle if he escaped his father's fate. It really was time to leave this city.\n\nBack at the camp, Davidson and his three companions spent the rest of the day loading their two vehicles with supplies and preparing for the trip back to Kansas. That evening, they said goodbye to Colonel Qadir, who said that, if they ever visited Florida, they should contact him. \"The core of Islam is hospitality.\"\n\nTed said: \"You really might see us, one day. I still want to stand on a beach and look out at the ocean.\"\n\n\"We have plenty of beaches, believe me.\"\n\nEarly the next morning, the four of them boarded the truck and Jeep and headed for Kansas.\nCHAPTER TWENTY-ONE\n\nThe main wall around Webster City was fifty miles long and thirty feet high. The observation towers were a mile apart and the land-mine fringe was 50 yards deep. The Chancellors always claimed that the walls were built to keep out evil and unvaxxed Outlaws. However, their real function was to keep citizens inside the City. The standard punishment for venturing out, without permission, was the death penalty.\n\nWhile an officer in the Internal Security Bureau, Davidson often journeyed into the Badlands to meet spies and monitor Alliance activities, but never felt comfortable out there. It was a cruel and desolate place that his enemy controlled. As he drove the troop truck through the West Gate of the City towards Kansas, he felt vulnerable. He was leaving the world he knew and entering a void. He sweated more than during a firefight.\n\nThe West Gate still bore the scars of the recent Alliance assault. The observation tower had huge divots and a buckled metal platform; the sandbag emplacements and pillbox looked like a giant stomped on them. The husks of burnt-out armored vehicles littered both sides of the road. A sign said: \"You are leaving Webster City - the Ark of Civilization\".\n\nHelen sat beside Davidson in the troop truck. Behind them, Ted drove the Jeep with Philip beside him. Davidson headed south along the I55 Highway towards old Indianapolis. The blue sky swelled after they left the City and staring into the distance made his eyes sore. Even the air seemed fresher.\n\nWhen the Great Plague struck, 300 years ago, tens of thousands of Chicagoans fled their city in a forlorn attempt to escape infection. Many died in their vehicles, which still dotted the highway, rusted down to their chassis. The wreckage brought home to him the enormity of the Great Plague.\n\nThe road surface was covered with cracks, gashes, ruptures and potholes. Many accommodated trees and bushes. Fortunately, though, Webster City had repaired the worst sections so its armored units could venture out against Alliance forces. Davidson drove at about 20 miles per hour.\n\nNo other vehicles used the highway. Their only company was abundant deer, wild horses, cattle and bison on both sides. Davidson sometimes swerved to miss a jaywalking beast.\n\nHis greatest fear was that desperate Outlaws or refugees from the City would ambush them. A well-sited automatic weapon would shred their tiny convoy. But they had to accept that risk.\n\nHelen glanced at him. \"When I was a kid, if I naughty, my parents threatened to send me out into the Badlands, alone.\"\n\n\"That made you behave?\"\n\n\"You bet. I was terrified. I sometimes had nightmares that I was left alone out here. Crazy-looking humans with huge scars and boils appeared and danced around me.\" She shivered. \"It was horrible.\"\n\n\"Are you frightened now?\"\n\nA half-smile. \"A bit. Three weeks ago, my life was a mess, but I had a good job and food on the table. That's all gone. Life has got pretty damn basic and looks like being a lot shorter than I expected. Just waking up is dangerous. Do you think we'll ever see the City again?\"\n\n\"No, this is a one-way trip.\"\n\n\"I was afraid you'd say that.\"\n\n\"You've got to accept that the City you knew is gone and won't return. That should make this easier.\"\n\nShe laughed. \"I'll try; I'll try.\"\n\nThey traveled about 180 miles on the first day and stopped at a bunker-shaped observation post that Webster City built to monitor movements along the highway. The Alliance overran it five years ago and wiped out the whole garrison of 20 soldiers. The City never attempted to regain control. Maybe that loss of nerve was a clear signal it was doomed.\n\nThe concrete observation post sat on a small hill. The only traces of the massacre were a bullet-pocked facade, rusted shell casings and two desperate inscriptions on an inside wall: \"Goodbye\" and \"Mother\".\n\nDavidson built a small fire in front of the building and cooked a stew. Ten miles away, the skeletal skyscrapers of Indianapolis flashed gold and silver. The few intact windows winked like diamonds. Outlaw communities often occupied the ruins of major cities. Not Indianapolis. Just before the Great Plague, a terrorist blew up a Republican Party Convention with a dirty atomic bomb and turned the city into a radioactive hotspot.\n\nThe sun sank below the horizon and shadows slithered across the landscape. A white radiance filled the sky. While they ate, Ted described some of the religions on offer in Kansas. The fastest- growing was The Way, an amalgam of numerous religions, including Hinduism and Buddhism, which many people - including its adherents - found incomprehensible. \"But the big message is that the Day of Judgment is coming and the wicked won't like it one little bit.\"\n\nDavidson said: \"I don't want to worry about Armageddon for a while. Are there any happy religions?\"\n\n\"Some. My favorite is the Church of Neal Armstrong. It believes the astronaut was the Son of God. He travelled to the moon to meet his Father and never returned. An impersonator came back. It's a very popular church. It's been taking a lot of members from the Congregation of Elvis Presley.\"\n\n\"Elvis?\"\n\n\"Yep. It thinks Elvis was the Son of God and his songs are full of religious messages. The most important is 'Love me Tender'. The singing at its Sunday services is damn fine.\"\n\n\"Mmm, I think I'll stay away from religion for a while.\"\n\nThey finished eating and Philip agreed to stand the first watch. The other three entered the observation post and lay close together on camp rolls, rifles at their sides. Davidson realized that Ted had almost stopped coughing.\n\nTed rolled over and smiled at Davidson. \"Tell me, did he follow you out of the City?\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Alexander Webster.\"\n\nDavidson usually thought about Webster several times a day, but had not thought about him since waking up that morning. \"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Good. He'll have trouble finding you out here.\"\n\nThe next morning, they skirted around Indianapolis and headed towards Kansas. Mid-morning, the jeep hit a huge pot-hole that smashed its front axle beyond repair. They all climbed into the truck and continued on their journey.\n\nTHE END\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n**_A Life Less Ordinary: Book One_**\n\nby Scarlett Cross\n\nGenre: Adventure Science Fiction\n\nCopyright (C) 2015 by Scarlett Cross\n\nPublished 2015 by Scarlett Cross\n\nCover Design by www.ebooklaunch.com\n\nAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.\n**Table of Contents**\n\nChapter 1\n\nChapter 2\n\nChapter 3\n\nChapter 4\n\nChapter 5\n\nChapter 6\n\nChapter 7\n\nChapter 8\n\nChapter 9\n\nChapter 10\n\nChapter 11\n\nChapter 12\n\nChapter 13\n\nChapter 14\n\nChapter 15\n\nChapter 16\n\nChapter 17\n\nChapter 18\n\nChapter 19\n\nChapter 20\n\nChapter 21\n\nChapter 22\n\nChapter 23\n\nChapter 24\n\nChapter 25\n\nChapter 26\n\nChapter 27\n\nChapter 28\n\nChapter 29\n\nChapter 30\n\nChapter 31\n\nChapter 32\n\nChapter 33\n\nChapter 34\n\nChapter 35\n\nChapter 36\n\nChapter 37\n\nChapter 38\n\nChapter 39\n\nChapter 40\n\nChapter 41\n\nChapter 42\n\nChapter 43\n\nChapter 44\n\nChapter 45\n\nChapter 46\n\nChapter 47\n\nChapter 48\n\nChapter 49\n\nChapter 50\n\nChapter 51\n\nChapter 52\n\nChapter 53\n\nChapter 54\n\nChapter 55\n\nChapter 56\n\nChapter 57\n\nChapter 58\n\nChapter 59\n\nChapter 60\n\nChapter 61\n\nChapter 62\n\nChapter 63\n\nChapter 64\n\nChapter 65\n\nChapter 66\n\nChapter 67\n\nChapter 68\n\nChapter 69\n\nChapter 70\n\nChapter 71\n\nChapter 72\n\nChapter 73\n\nChapter 74\n\nChapter 75\n\nPreview: A Life Less Ordinary: Book Two\n\nAbout the Author\n\n**Chapter 1**\n\nIn the greater scheme of things, he knew it wasn't a perfect life, the life of a carney, but he'd come to appreciate it over time and not for just one reason. He wasn't one for settling in one place, and that was the biggest thing. It suited him to make money for travelling around from one small town to the next. It had, in the beginning, also been a job that came with free transportation between carnivals. Now, however, he owned his own small fleet of trucks and rides, and even paid men to drive these trucks, set up and operate the rides. While he did answer to the man who owned the carnival company, he was fast branching out and hoped, one day, to buy it when his 'boss' was ready to retire. The retirement, he was certain, would be soon, and he planned to start negotiating at the end of the autumn season, the best time to do so.\n\nDuring the winter they only did one or maybe two gigs, as the season was so harsh that few people wanted to be driving from place to place. But he knew his men were more than capable, and very willing, as they could make a lot of money since there were no others willing to provide entertainment for winter carnivals. He took a deep breath and sighed, watching the ride in front of him move, his hand ever poised and ready to hit the emergency stop, should it be necessary. All of his rides were in peak shape, but accidents could happen at any time, so it always paid to be ready to react in an instant.\n\nEven still, his mind wandered, as he stood at the ready, it was a gift he had always possessed, his mind was able to flawlessly focus on several events at the same time. Not just focus, but give full and undivided attention. He never knew quite how it was possible, only that it was, and it had driven his teachers both at the Cadet School and later at the private school he had attended when the Cadet school was closed down, quite mad.\n\nThe military, and his experiences in the Hundred-Years War, which had been a terrible war, had left him with a deep distrust of anyone. Even his own countrymen, especially his own countrymen. Now, as he continued watching the ride he'd assigned himself to for the day, he found no joy in the laughter and excitement of the crowds. Laughter and joy did not come easily to him, no more than did love or friendship, which were not words in his vocabulary, if he had to be quite honest. Not outside of his family circle, in any case, and among those he was only close to his uncle and two of his three brothers. Half-brothers, in fact, his father had died some time before and his mother, well, he'd never really even known her.\n\nShe'd been killed in the first month of conflict within his country, when the West had been bombing his home city, Moscow. He had only been a small child at the time, so his memories, while he guessed they could be considered good memories, were few and faint. He knew she had loved him and doted on him, just as his papa had, but thinking of them only served to make him feel bitter. His chest swelled as he took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, pulling himself away from that train of thought.\n\nWinter was approaching, he could smell it in the air, the way only those accustomed to cold climes can, that change between the damp, rotting smell of autumn leaves and something else entirely, though he could never put a name to it. Then there was also a strange feeling, something like a chill running up his spine that he couldn't quite explain. That particular sensation always told him there was going to be trouble of some sort, and unfortunately it had never once been wrong. He hit the stop button on the ride and it slowed to a halt, then he flipped the restraint bar release and watched as the passengers off-loaded.\n\nThree giggly, under-dressed and over made-up silly teenage girls walked by shooting him wide-eyed stares that invited him to get into trouble with them. He sighed and looked away, leaving them disappointed and pouting. When they were out of sight he smirked slightly and shook his head almost imperceptibly, making his long, white-blonde ponytail sway against his back. He was far too old for them, despite how young he appeared, at thirty-four, he had hit the age of twenty-one and ceased to grow older, if only in appearance. Just another of his oddities, he had always assumed. Those girls were a kind of trouble he neither needed, nor wanted. It was the kind of thing that, even a rumor of, could ruin his grand scheme. Not that he considered it a scheme in any nefarious way, so perhaps thinking of it as more of a plan would be better.\n\nThose girls been on the ride five times today, those same three girls, yesterday they'd been on another ride he'd been watching seven times and the day before they'd stood near the game he'd been supervising almost the entire day. But then, teenagers with a crush could be nothing if not persistent, he knew. Besides, he wasn't interested in anything that still lived at home with mommy and daddy, of age or not, he didn't need that kind of drama in his life. Didn't want it. Giving a furtive glance around, he pulled a flask out of his long black American-style duster, one like the real cowboys wear, and snuck a drink of vodka. He then stowed the flask safely out of sight, savoring the taste of his drink as more carnival-goers crowded onto the waiting machine.\n\nHis hand was poised over the start button as he watched his assistant Pyotr, the man who any other day would have been supervising, lock each of the restraint bars manually. He insisted on this little step. Often, carneys ignored it, opting instead to use the auto-lock switch and while accidents were not common, he knew nine times out of ten that was the exact cause. Failure to adequately check the safety and restraint equipment pre-launch. Being former military, he was strict about rules, even if sometimes well, to be honest, a lot of times, he broke those rules, he was not about to risk the lives of children and teenagers out of sheer laziness.\n\n\"Korzhakov!\" Someone called out from behind him and he froze, an instant snarling expression of anger appearing on his handsome face. Only two people in the entire carnival knew that was his last name, and the other one was the man most considered their boss. Without turning he knew it wasn't the 'boss' calling him, and he stiffened, ready for it to be any number of people he would rather not care to see. \"Hey, boss wants you in his office. Now!\"\n\n\"I am working, can you not see this?\" he hit the start button and nodded to the usual ride supervisor. \"Stay here, Pyotr will tell you what I expect.\"\n\n\"Da,\" The man said, then frowned when Pyotr took up residence at the controls. \"But I...\"\n\n\"No one works my rides that I do not know. You can argue if you like, but I can tell you it will do no good. I am very strict...and also very stubborn. Cause an accident and hurt someone, and I will make sure you have accident of your very own. Understand?\" He drew himself up in an impressive manner, the way only the most alpha of the alpha-males can manage, and the other man seemed to shrink almost instantly.\n\n\"Da.\" The man said, dismally, then turned his back. The blonde nodded to Pyotr once more and then departed, carving an easy path through the crowd. Once people set eyes on him, they rarely wanted to stand in his way. He was freakishly tall, standing nearly eight feet in height, and there was hardly any fat on him. In fact, he was solid muscle, and had a temper, and the skills, to back up his words on the rare occasion it was ever necessary. He made the trip to the boss's office, a mobile trailer that was pulled via large truck from place to place, at his usual quick pace. When he was on a mission, whatever it might be, he did not like to waste anyone's time, his own least of all.\n\n\"Why you are summoning me?\" He asked, not bothering to knock before barging into the office, which earned him an exasperated sigh from the overworked man who ran the carnival. The man held out a satellite phone, his expression grim, and the blonde took it carefully, looking as if he were afraid it might crumble in his large hand. He placed it to his ear, exhaled slowly and said, in a low voice, \"Da?\"\n\n\"Ivan...\" A familiar voice, so long unheard to him that he almost didn't recognize it, spoke faintly with an English accent through the nuclear static. His heart skipped a beat, not fear, more of a sickening feeling as it dropped like a stone into the pit of his stomach. This was bad. A phone call could only mean...\n\n\"Which one is it?\" Ivan asked, blandly, though his hand tightened spasmodically on the phone so hard he heard it crack and released the pressure immediately. The boss must have heard it, too, for he shot Ivan a reproachful glance before continuing with whatever paperwork he'd been reviewing. \"Which one should I be looking out for?\"\n\n\"Both.\" The line went dead and Ivan made a gesture that indicated he'd quite like to slam the expensive phone down on the floor with extreme vitriol. Instead, he hesitated, then placed it gently back on the laminate-covered desktop, backing away and eyeing it cautiously, as if it were a live thing that might attack him. While his actions said caution, his eyes must have said he was angry enough to kill someone.\n\n\"Trouble from home?\" His boss asked, casually, but then glanced up and saw the look on Ivan's face and paled. \"Sorry...I should not have asked...\"\n\n\"Nyet, you should not have told anyone my last name.\" Ivan said, icily, advancing on the man slightly, his head brushing the ceiling of the trailer as he straightened himself to his impressive height. \"How many times, Mikhail, must I explain to you that is bad name to have and I try to avoid using it? Is not only bad for me...is bad for carnival as well, to have man with that surname involved. Call me Sergeivich to all, never call me by other name to any.\"\n\n\"You really must have troubled past.\" Mikhail said, looking interested, but Ivan was already turning to leave. \"Ivan...if you need time off...\"\n\n\"Nyet, I do not take time off. If I go, I will be gone for good. I can manage my trucks and trailers from anywhere in world. If I go, Pyotr will be in charge, talk to him about travel and location of next setup.\" Ivan said, then left the office, slamming the door behind him so that the man within winced at the sound. \"More trouble than you know.\" He muttered under his breath as he descended the metal steps outside, referring to his family situation.\n\nThe remainder of the day he was more closed off than even was normal for him, keeping a sharp eye on the crowds for any sign that he'd been discovered. He rolled over and over in his mind, as he headed for his sleeping quarters in the back of one of the ride haulers, how this could possibly have happened. One of them, yes, he could understand, because he was still a free man and able to move about at will, though he'd never been stupid enough to attempt anything. Well, he'd always been stupid enough maybe, just not brave enough.\n\nBut the other was supposed to be locked up, shut in an asylum on an entirely different continent, for the rest of his poor, miserable life. Ivan supposed he was as responsible as anyone, he hadn't exactly been doing his part in caring for the other man. He just hadn't had time. Still, how in the hell had he gotten back across the ocean when he wasn't capable of even tying his own shoes or properly dressing himself? Since the war, and particularly with his disabilities and no passport to speak of, it wasn't like he could just fly back on a jetliner. No, he would have had to book passage via ship, or stow away. Somehow, Ivan suspected, he'd had some help, help from the second man now brilliantly stamped on his radar screen. He sat heavily in a chair by his camp bed and cursed and cracked open a bottle of vodka as he sat in the darkness. \"Bring it on, little fuck. I am right here, if you can find me.\"\n\n**Chapter 2**\n\nWhile his half-brother was issuing his warning to the darkness in a village in Siberia, the doctor was reclining on an expensive leather sofa reading a medical journal. Outside, the last leaves of autumn were drifting down and he heard the hum of traffic in the London afternoon. A thud made him jump, nearly upsetting the glass of wine at his elbow, and he cursed under his breath, then peered across the stylishly modern living room of his upscale apartment at the balcony's sliding glass door.\n\nIt wasn't that he was concerned about one of the two getting to him, he lacked the wits to get out of a brown paper bag with both its ends cut off, even with a map. The second man though, he was as cunning and dangerous as a wild animal, he had killed and would, the doctor feared, kill again now that he was freed. As his apartment was on the twelfth floor of a high rise building that had every form of security known to man, and then some, he shouldn't have been worried. But he was, oh how he was.\n\nThe second man had no fear and had been known to scale high buildings to get to people in the past, if the mood struck him. This was how the doctor had been led to believe the crazed man had gotten out of the asylum. There had been a riot, according to the staffer who had called, and somehow he'd managed to scale the razor-wire fence. His absence had, reportedly, gone unnoticed for some time. He had not been able to get any explanation as to how that was possible, so he knew all had not been as it should have at the American facility. The doctor knew he should be terrified, but now that he thought about it, maybe he wanted the second one to find him. Maybe he was getting a little tired of living in fear, and maybe he blamed himself for that man's predicament, and he wanted either forgiveness, or death.\n\nThe tiredness of being chased passed quickly and he stood and moved quickly across the room, which was dimly lit since he only had one lamp turned on at the moment. The sun had moved behind the building now, so it was growing dark inside, fast, as it always did. He checked and re-checked the locks on all of the doors, particularly the balcony. There was very little security on that sliding glass nightmare. Knowing the threat better than anyone, he knew this would be the door that would be breached, if the second man found him. He jumped and nearly dropped his wine glass when his mobile phone rang, then glided quickly back and snapped it up off the table.\n\n\"Hello?\" He answered, his own accent was decidedly more British than Russian, as he'd been shipped off to an English boarding school at the age of ten and really hadn't ever returned to his motherland. Other than the occasional visits, holidays and the like. Which was when the trouble had started, and that was why he had a sneaking feeling his balcony door would be broken into very soon. No one spoke on the other end of the line and he felt as if his blood had frozen in his veins when he heard a soft, rattling growling coming across clear as day.\n\n\"Y-Yuri?\" he managed to gasp softly, but the line went dead and he immediately dropped the phone, not caring that the screen shattered on contact with the hard floor. It was useless to him now, if the number had been discovered he'd already been tracked. The point in the call was to unnerve him, to unsettle him and make him take foolish action. When that realization hit him, he froze and turned, staring at the phone, considering. What would he do? Of course, pack a bag and flee the country; head straight back to Russia. But in order to flee the country he'd have to leave the building, and if he left the building...\n\n\"I'd be a sitting duck.\" He whispered to the blue sky outside the balcony door. That could only mean that he was safer staying here, inside the apartment. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him and he only barely made it into the bathroom before he vomited everything he'd ingested, it felt like, in the last ten years. Ten years, he thought, as he stared in the mirror at himself, could it really have been so long? Of course, in reality, he knew it had been that long. He'd felt every single day that had passed, every hour of every day and every minute of every hour. Almost down to each of his heartbeats he could remember the moment ten years ago that had changed everything.\n\nAs he stared into his own deep purple eyes, a color bestowed on him by an extremely rare genetic trait, his own reflection, gaunt and pale, faded and was replaced by another's face. Handsome, young, long black hair and a devilishly charming smile. His dark eyes lit up with that fire he said the doctor had given him, the same fire that only a few short months later the doctor had been forced to extinguish.\n\nIt had been near the end of the war, when they'd taken him, the black haired man. His father had done all in his power to protect the sweet, artistic, gentle and intelligent Yuri. But, in dire need of soldiers, they had literally taken him, dragged him screaming from his father's diplomatic residence. Despite his all his father, a Russian Diplomat, was able to do, he was not released from the service Yuri never wanted to enter. Ivan, Aleksei's maternal half-brother, was far away in Yakutsk, fighting on the frontlines there. At the time, he had been told that Yuri's full-brother Dmitri was far to the south near the Black Sea, also unable to help, in fact, the story was he'd been unreachable as he'd been doing covert work. Only later would he find out different. Much later. Well past the point of 'too late'.\n\nAleksei was not only an emergency unit doctor, but also an instructor of emergency medicine at the time, teaching and tutoring his students at University in London. He could usually be found weaving in and out of classes between lectures and avoiding incoming patients just trying to get back to his apartment at night. By the time Sergei, who would have been his stepfather had his mother not died in one of the first bombing runs of the war, found Yuri, it was really too late for him. Aleksei had been one of the first there, his heart aching to see the young man returned safely; but his hopes of their friendship (maybe more than a friendship) rekindling, were crushed.\n\nWhen he arrived at the diplomatic residence, he was met by two stern faced security men whom he did not recognize and they did not seem to know or expect him. He had to surrender his identification to one of the men and then wait nervously on the doorstep, fearing being shot for being a foreigner, particularly since England and Russia weren't on the best of terms. The door snapped open and the man motioned him inside before returning to his post, not another word spoken, though he did hand Aleksei's identification back as he passed. Aleksei scooted past them both, not giving them a chance to change their minds. He closed the door gently behind him and then jogged lightly up the stairs to Sergei's office, expecting to see Yuri there.\n\nInstead, he was met with a very pale, very sickly looking Sergei, who was hunched over a glass of brown liquor, very strange because he'd only ever drank vodka, being Russian, and all. He looked up at Aleksei and the tall, slender blonde sagged back against the frame of the door he'd just entered. It was worse than he'd thought, not only was he drinking brown spirits, but Sergei Korzhakov was actually _crying_. Finally, Aleksei was able to move forward, to find his voice and ask the question even though the answer was dreaded.\n\n\"Is...Is he dead, Sergei?\" he finally managed, but the man only tossed back the rest of the glass and gave a snort of laughter that was from anything but amusement.\n\n\"It might have been better if he were.\" Sergei poured another large measure and drank half of it in one go. \"Whatever he was before...that is what is dead. His body lives on, such as it is.\"\n\n\"You mean...he is...he is in coma?\" Aleksei asked, not understanding, and for a long while (and two more pretty hefty measures of liquor) Sergei did not answer. Finally, he stood quickly, swaying and nearly falling over, his hand grasping at the mahogany desk to steady himself.\n\n\"Come with me, but...but you must promise you will tell no one...\" Sergei said, and Aleksei had to fight the urge to recoil at the reek of liquor on his breath. He nodded, but could not bring himself to speak. \"I called you here because you are doctor. You are only doctor I trust to see him in this...condition.\"\n\nThey were descending into the basement now, and Aleksei stared around him, confused. He'd never even known there was a basement in this old brownstone building; he was further surprised when Sergei unlocked a steel door and led him into a sub-basement. As soon as their feet hit the creaking, dangerously unstable wooden stairs, he heard what sounded like the rattle of a chain being dragged across stone and he froze, but Sergei grabbed his wrist and pulled him on. \"I...I do not understand...\"\n\n\"You will.\" A third voice, familiar but softer than he'd ever heard it, spoke from somewhere in the near darkness, and an enormously tall, hulking figure emerged from the shadows.\n\n\"Let him see, Ivan.\" Sergei said to his other son, and the giant nodded, then flicked a switch that was crudely mounted, poor wiring and all, on a post at the foot of the stairs. The basement was flooded with flickering greenish, sickly fluorescent light. Aleksei caught sight of something moving much like an animal across the concrete floor, the rattling of the chain more pronounced. The creature was making for a darkened crawlspace, but the chain was too short by about four feet and it was jerked backwards by its own momentum, landing hard on the concrete. Immediately he righted himself, snarling and tugging at the chain so that it looked like he might break his dangerously thin neck at any moment.\n\n\"Yuri...\" Aleksei said the name, but even to him it did not fit this creature, this sub-human male that was staring at him now and sniffing the air like a dog might. \"What...what happened to him?\"\n\n\"I will leave you to it...I have work to do...\" Sergei shot Yuri one last look and then went back up the stairs, swaying drunkenly with every step.\n\n\"Ivan?\" Aleksei turned back to the giant, ready for any explanation that would make sense of what, to him, was nothing short of a tragedy.\n\n**Chapter 3**\n\nIvan drank more than he had intended to, but he really didn't care. In fact, he'd actually gotten himself drunk enough that he was out wandering the midway, though he was still sober enough to remain oblivious to the female attention he always seemed to attract. He leaned against the top railing of a wooden fence in the animal exhibits and stared up at the fireworks, for once not bothered by the explosions, which generally brought back memories of the war. Memories he'd have as soon forgotten. Tonight his mind was on his youngest brother, the sweet and vulnerable Yuri, and the night he'd been returned after his ordeal.\n\nIvan had been out on a four day mission hunting insurgents in the Siberian wilderness and it was a successful mission. Full of piss and vinegar, he'd come back into camp with a broad smile on his face as he knew this would probably be the key to his release from service. Soon, he'd be on the way home, back to working for his Uncle Oleg's crime syndicate. Life had definitely never looked better for him; but then he'd seen the face of his commanding officer.\n\nAt first, he thought he was in trouble, but not even that faltered his mood, not like he'd never been in trouble before, after all. It wasn't until he found out he was being sent home for a family emergency that his happiness evaporated. Particularly when, no matter how hard he pressed, the commanding officer would not, or perhaps could not, tell him what exactly the emergency was. That, to Ivan, could only mean someone had died, and his mind immediately turned to his father and then, for some inexplicable reason, Yuri. But Yuri was supposed to be safely in London now, so he couldn't make sense of the ominous feeling weighing down on him.\n\nA train ticket had been procured for him already, which was a miracle in itself as passenger trains only passed through the region every two to three months, at best. Only someone of high standing could have managed that, so at least he knew his father, a Diplomat, was still living. Not even Oleg could get a passenger train ticket for him at such short notice, even in a dire emergency. He knew he would have to take a helicopter ride to the nearest civilian depot, as only freight trains came this far east, and those were very few and extremely far between. Sometimes, if the supply line was broken, they might go six months or longer without word or supplies from the outside world.\n\nIvan took the ticket from the officer, then jogged to his tent and gathered up his gear, hesitantly looking at his beloved rifle, the AK-47 he'd had since his first week of training. \"Take it with you.\" The officer said, when he came forward to return it. \"You have more than earned it...and you are going to need it.\"\n\n\"Why do you say that, sir?\" Ivan asked, but the officer waved a dismissal, and Ivan knew he wouldn't get any clear explanation, so he walked quickly towards the helipad, a half-kilometer from the barracks section of the permanent military installation.\n\nThrough most of the first leg of the train ride he sat in his first-class cabin and stared out the window at the bleak, early winter landscape, sleeping only a few hours each of the five days the trip took. He nearly drank the bar in the adult lounge car dry by the third night. On the fourth he had more than one complaint made against him for the noise coming from his cabin when two single women decided to bunk over at his place, so to speak. When the steward, a skinny middle-aged man, knocked on his cabin door, he opened it, completely naked, and stared down at the man, who swallowed hard and looked up at him, the blood draining from his face. \"Da?\"\n\n\"N-Nothing, sir. Must...must have been misunderstanding.\" He said, backing away, his hands up as if Ivan had a gun pointed at him. As he did have female company, he may have, when he thought about it, which only made him smile all the more.\n\n\"Da that is what I thought.\" He saw a woman across the hall staring at him through a crack in the window shade, and smirked when her eyes finally wandered _up_ to meet his. He blew her a kiss and then slammed the door hard enough so that the shade flew up, naturally he'd done this on purpose, and just as he expected, she was still staring, even craning her neck a bit, so that she might see past the lower half of the door. He pulled the shade back down and turned towards the women. \"Where were we, ladies?\"\n\nWhen he was sated, and the women exhausted to the point of sleep, Ivan dressed himself and then settled into the faux-leather armchair across the small cabin from the bunk. He watched the young women sleeping, their bodies gracefully intertwined, hair mussed and slightly damp with sweat from their earlier work-out. After a while, seemingly driven by compulsion, he suddenly moved and looked for his coat, which was hanging by the exterior door of the cabin.\n\nStealthily, he pulled an old diary-like book from his inside coat pocket and caught the pencil that fell out. The remainder of the trip was spent sketching a photograph of the sleeping women into a book he had filled with similar photos. In fact, every woman he'd ever bedded had a place in this journal or one of the other five he had stored in a safety deposit box. Occasionally, he would look through the most recent book and smile at the memories. These women had been, comparatively, two of the best he'd had in years. So, as the train rolled into the station, he drew a tiny star in the corner of the very life-like, and very detailed, drawing, closed the book and tucked it away. As was his way, he departed without so much as a goodbye, not bothering to wake the nurses, who were on leave themselves, to tell them the train had arrived at the station.\n\nAfter passing through the noisy, crowded concourse, he walked out into the cold, breathing deeply the stink of car exhaust, his ears disliking the noise, his eyes the bleak urban landscape. For all his years of service he had planned on this day, on returning to Moscow, but now for the first time in his life, he felt his confidence waver somewhat. He wasn't sure, as he looked at the gritty, gray scenery that was downtown post-war Moscow, that this was truly where he wanted to be. When he approached the steps outside of the enormous train station, he saw the diplomatic limousine and bounced lightly down, the smile returning to his face. He knew the driver on sight, the man had been in his father's employ since Ivan was a small child, and even now he could tell the man saw still the child he had been, rather than the man he had become.\n\n\"Where are we going?\" He asked conversationally from the backseat, but as always, the man did not hear him. His hearing had been damaged during the bombing of Moscow, the same bombing in which Ivan's mother had been killed, incidentally. Ivan knew the route well enough to know he needn't have asked, it had merely been an attempt to start a conversation in which he might glean why he'd been called back. They were headed back towards the diplomatic residence, his father's home, so he settled back in the comfortable leather seat and looked out at the crowded, grim streets of Moscow.\n\nIvan was out of the car and up the front steps almost before the driver could put the car in park, sparing the man having to get out in the heavy snow, which had begun to drift down as they'd crossed the swirling, polluted river that ran through the heart of the city. Not bothering to stand on ceremony and ring the bell, Ivan barged in, startling the butler from whatever he'd been doing and bringing him half-running to the door. \"Oh, sir! Your father is expecting you, this way, sir. This way!\"\n\nIvan rolled his eyes, but only after the man had turned to go up the stairs. It was as if he hadn't lived here his entire life, as if he did not remember exactly where his father's study was located. Patiently he followed the man up the steep, narrow stairs, when honestly he could have run up them much easier. Slow going pained him, and most people moved considerably slower than Ivan, even when they were trying to move quickly. He knew when he stepped into his father's office something was very wrong. He could see it in the man's face, but there was something on the air, a scent that left him sniffing audibly, why did it smell like some sort of predatory beast had been in this very room?\n\n\"Papa...what has happened?\" He asked, moving to embrace his father, kissing both of his cheeks as his father kissed his. \"What is big emergency?\"\n\n\"They...they took Yuri.\" His father said, his pale blue eyes on Ivan's own, which were a richer blue, so much so it appeared he wore colored lenses, but he did not and never had, to Ivan's knowledge. His eyesight was perfect, so he'd never even seemed to put thought into such a thing.\n\n\"Not...not...\" Ivan was dumbstruck first, but immediately it changed to rage so powerful it nearly blinded him. His hands closed on his father's shoulders, but he was so lost in his rage he did not see the man wince at the pain it caused him. \"How? When? I thought you said it could not...would not happen...\" He hadn't meant to sound accusatory, but when he realized he had he didn't care. He stared at his father, waiting for an explanation. When it was slow in coming, he gave the man a shake that was less than gentle, but not enough to do any harm.\n\n\"They...Ivan, you have to understand...you have to know I did everything in my power to prevent this. I tried everything...\" He saw tears in his father's eyes and his hands dropped to his sides, shock now numbing the rage, dampening it so that it receded as flames might do in a sudden rain. \"I...I was not here. I had been assured he would be safe or I would have sent him away to England sooner...or somewhere far from Russian Army. He was supposed to leave that very same day...that is shame of it.\"\n\n\"Da, but papa...\" Ivan began, but his father held up a hand to silence him and Ivan obeyed at once.\n\n\"Dmitri caused this.\" Sergei said, and Ivan's mouth dropped open in stunned surprise. \"Yuri had...fallen in love with Aleksei...\"\n\n\"Da, I know...but Dmitri...why?\" Ivan asked, muttering more to himself than anything because his father wasn't listening, he was lost in his own dark recollection.\n\n\"I knew about it, as did you...but it seems only Dmitri did not know, did not see. I could not have warned him, you know, nature of his military career...he is most often doing covert work near Black Sea. So, over Holidays last winter...Dmitri showed up unannounced to dinner party I was hosting. He had gotten some unexpected leave, you know?\" Sergei sighed, heavily, then continued. \"Yuri was so accustomed to his and Aleksei's relationship being accepted that he simply assumed that Dmitri would have no more problem with it than I do, or you do. He was ever so wrong...\"\n\nSergei sighed again and moved to the sidebar for a vodka decanter. After pouring them both a large amount, he handed Ivan a crystal tumbler and continued the story. \"It must have been probably six months later when they came for Yuri, I suppose it took time for Dmitri to convince anyone to act on his tip. Shame of it is, as I said before, Yuri was due to leave for London that very day. I was in Switzerland, again. Damn those pacifists, they make more trouble than Americans. That was when security called me and told me military had been around looking for Yuri. I flew home immediately, getting here in twelve hours, which was just in time to find Dmitri with his right eye gouged out, howling in pain. Four soldiers were forcefully dragging Yuri into big panel van they were driving.\"\n\n\"How long ago was this?\" Ivan asked, tonelessly. He knew all too well what _Dedovschina_ , Russian hazing, could to do the weak and submissive males. No one in the ranks of conscripts, of course, would have dared to try to haze Ivan, but he'd undergone some very painful treatment at the hands of the officers in charge none-the-less. \"Papa?\"\n\n\"Six months.\" Sergei whispered, then turned up his glass and flung it against the back wall of the fireplace with amazing accuracy, shattering it, the vodka flaring and then sizzling amongst the logs. \"I called you home because I have finally found what camp Yuri was sent to. That is where you come in...\"\n\n\"You want me to go and get him? Done. Tell me where I am going and I will bring back our Yuri.\" Ivan said, though in his heart he knew there was probably very little left of the Yuri they had known.\n\nThe horse whose stable wall he'd been leaning against, jostled against Ivan's shoulder, bringing him back to the present day, drawing him away from his darkened recollection. The fireworks had ended, probably long before, and he gave the animal a half-hearted pat on the neck before turning to go back to his own trailer. He was well aware he was being watched, had been aware for some time. Now, all there was to do was wait; soon enough his stalker would make himself known.\n\n**Chapter 4**\n\nHe moved stealthily around the outer edges of the carnival, his one good eye following the progress of the giant as he walked aimlessly through the chattering, happy crowd. That eye, thankfully, still had perfect vision and he scanned the crowd around his half-brother for any sign of his prey. Not seeing what he'd come for, he started to rise but the familiar, cool metal of a gun barrel pressed down on his neck, holding him in place.\n\n\"Who are you? Why are you watching carnival? We do not tolerate fence hoppers.\" The man said in an authoritative voice. \"Speak, or I will call over local authorities to arrest you.\"\n\n\"I am going to reach in my pocket for identification, okay?\" he asked, and felt the pressure of the gun relax, but only slightly. He pulled out his wallet and unfolded it awkwardly because of the position he was in, then produced his military ID and handed it to the man behind him.\n\n\"Oh, you are military. Why are you stalking around our carnival? Military members get in free, you know this, is posted on signs all through town.\" The man looked at him as he stood up, blanching slightly as the one-eyed man stood to his fully height of six and a half feet. \"Dmitri Korzhakov...hey! Are you any relation to Ivan Korzhakov? Big giant man with white hair?\"\n\n\"I really had hoped you would not ask that.\" Dmitri sighed heavily, and in a movement almost too fast for the eyes to see, he snapped the man's neck and let him fall to the ground. Putting his identification back in his wallet, he spit on the corpse. \"Da, I am related to him. But you will not go running to him and spoil my surprise.\" After wiping his sweat off the barrel of the gun, and the spit off of the man's slackened face as modern technology made just that little bit of contact enough for a conviction because it proved he'd been there, he headed towards the fence. Looking both ways first, he hopped silently over into the carnival easily and headed for the hauler he'd seen Ivan come out of, his long black military-issue coat sliding off of the fence behind him.\n\nDismay passed through him and what might have been a short lived frisson of fear followed it when he popped the lock on the trailer and stepped inside. Sitting in a chair with his back to the door was the blonde giant he'd been looking for. He had planned on the element of surprise, but this blew that plan all to hell. His fists clenched at his sides as he tried to quickly think of a plan, any plan, but he had not counted on this. How had Ivan known he was even here?\n\n\"It will be cold day in Hell before you can sneak up on me, Dmitri.\" Ivan said, then held out a bottle of vodka in his right hand, not bothering to turn around. When Dmitri did not take it, he shrugged and turned it up again, drinking deeply to prove it was not poisoned. \"Come in and shut door; whole world does not need to hear what is being said here. I am sure you do not want everyone to know you are brother to man who is gay.\" He said the last word loudly enough that Dmitri did in fact wince and glance out to see if anyone had heard. Realizing what he had done, he closed his eye furiously, but also refused to follow Ivan's order.\n\n\"Not for long. Not if I find him before you and that fag half-brother of yours can rescue him.\" He spat, and Ivan chuckled.\n\n\"When, in your pathetic life, have you ever been able to outsmart me?\" Ivan asked, standing now and turning to face him before nodding at the open door. \"Close fucking door, Dmitri.\"\n\nFinally Dmitri moved and closed it, then jumped when something heavy clunked outside. When he tried the door, he found it blocked. Furious, he drew his service weapon, a .45 pistol, and leveled it on his brother. \"You cannot hold me here forever. Sooner or later you have to eat...\" he felt something sting his neck and swatted it, plucking out a dart and staring at it, dismayed. His pistol arm dropped to his side, and Ivan lunged, catching the gun that fell from his slackened hand before it hit the trailer floor which might have caused an accidental discharge. Dmitri, however, he did not bother to catch and his half-brother hit the floor. Hard. Ivan rolled him onto his back and squatted down beside him, unloading and dismantling the weapon as he spoke.\n\n\"Now, as long as you are just lying there, brother, let me make one thing perfectly clear: Yuri is not here with me. Nyet, you have been fool all your life and you have just proven to me that things have not changed one bit. Do you really think that he would come to me after all this time?\"\n\n\"Secure...apartment...twelfth...\" Dmitri managed through his nearly paralyzed mouth, his eye was nearly blood-red with rage as he stared up at Ivan.\n\n\"True, but when has that ever stopped him?\" Ivan shrugged, then looked over and nodded at someone, and without another word, he disappeared from Dmitri's line of sight. Dmitri heard the heavy object being dragged away from the door, but he could not see what was happening. Soon, he became able to move and sat up in the trailer, realizing it was starting to roll. He dragged his sluggish body to the door but it was locked tightly, shut from the outside, and he knew he was in for a ride, wherever it might lead. Cursing his stupidity in thinking this was a good idea, he sat down in the same chair Ivan had occupied before and cradled his throbbing head in his hands. Hatred burned through him like a white hot fire as he realized he'd been bested by his brother. Again.\n\n**Chapter 5**\n\nAleksei woke with a start and a shudder as a cold chill ran down his spine, the sound of something, or someone, scratching at the glass balcony door caused a wave of nausea that sent him flying into his private bathroom. He knew what was clawing at the door, he just didn't know what to do about it. First, he picked up his landline phone and considered calling Ivan, but then he put the phone back on its charger-base. Then he thought about calling Oleg, but knew that would do him even less good. Finally, when the scratching turned to thumping, he had to do something because if he didn't it would wake the neighbors. He walked silently to the living room and stared through the glass at the man crouching on the other side, animal like, staring back at him.\n\nHe was thinner than Aleksei had ever seen him, his hair was well down his back and a filthy mass of tangles that looked worse than anything he'd ever seen on a person. His skin was filthy, and naked except for hospital issue pants that were bloody and torn in several places, probably from where he scaled the asylum fence to escape. He sat up so that Aleksei could see his chest, and the doctor winced to see his own name carved into Yuri's chest, the scars were red and angry, bleeding in places and clearly infected because along with the blood there was also pus draining.\n\nAleksei knew he had no choice, he couldn't leave Yuri on the balcony. Now that the feral man had seen him he'd start howling if Aleksei walked away. With a heavy heart, knowing he was probably about to die, Aleksei walked forward, feeling numb, surreal even. When his outstretched hand touched the door handle, he jerked awake in his bed, drenched in cold sweat, clutching his chest in absolute terror. Somewhere in the apartment he could hear a phone ringing and he shot from his large bedroom down the stairs into the den. He cut his finger on the screen as he dragged it across to answer the call. The name and number were blocked, and he hoped this would be good news. Perhaps Ivan had captured him.\n\n\"Aleksei?\" Ivan's familiar, gruff voice nearly induced tears of relief, but he held onto those tears, as he did not know yet if the news was good or bad. \"Code in, please.\" Ivan had devised this, his paranoia from years of military service had led him to it. Now they had ways of letting each other know if they were in danger, and since Yuri wasn't clearly present, Aleksei gave the all-clear code.\n\n\"Raven, 4-5-8-3-7.\" Aleksei said patiently, having long ago grown used to Ivan's paranoia, which had only deepened further after the war. He paused then, while he sucked on his bleeding finger a moment before he spoke again. \"Ivan...what has happened?\"\n\n\"I captured Dmitri about six hours ago. He is sealed inside carnival hauler headed for outer Mongolian village. There is no way for him to get out of that village as I have his motorbike. Have you seen...?\"\n\n\"Nyet.\" Aleksei said, pausing, considering telling him the rest. \"But I did get what I think was phone call from him. Just low growling and then, when I said his name, call ended.\"\n\nIvan was silent for so long, Aleksei thought he might have lost the connection, but finally he spoke, cautiously. \"Dmitri did not seem to think he would come after you. I told him he was fool. I can be in London in one week's time but I do not think you have time to wait.\"\n\n\"Ivan...if I leave this apartment I am sitting duck...I believe that is what he, Yuri, wanted. Had I panicked and fled I would have put myself out in open, and...I do not know what would have happened next.\" Aleksei sighed, his hand gripping the phone, which seemed like his one lifeline, tightly. \"I...what do I do?\"\n\n\"You may be right, but you also have balcony. Dmitri did not consider this, but I did. Yuri is not afraid of...anything. He will find way to get to balcony before he will ever attempt to get inside to your actual door. Can you have maintenance come and seal door? Perhaps slip them some extra money...\"\n\n\"Nyet, Ivan. They will not do it. This is not Russia, more is pity. In Russia I could, for right price, have an entire firing squad ready on balcony.\" Aleksei said, earning a short laugh from Ivan, though they both knew he'd never do such a thing to Yuri, whatever the danger. \"Do you think...maybe if I tried to move during daylight...?\" He was speaking English now, hoping that if Yuri was listening he wouldn't hear or rather, he wouldn't understand.\n\n\"Maybe...\" Ivan said, speculatively. In the background Aleksei heard a car horn blow, followed by the brief sound of someone shouting angrily. For the first time, he realized Ivan was actually on the motorbike as they spoke, probably using some sort of earpiece inside of a helmet to talk. \"I do not know if he still fears light as he used to. I am ashamed to say I have not exactly been checking up on him like I had promised papa I would.\"\n\n\"None of us have, and I think my absence will hurt him worse than even Dmitri's betrayal.\" Aleksei whispered, then asked in such a quiet voice he hoped Ivan didn't actually hear him. \"Do you think...he still loves me?\"\n\nIt was Ivan's turn to sigh. \"I do not know, Aleksei. I do not know if, after all he went through, he is even remotely capable or aware of what 'love' really is.\"\n\n\"That...is what I was afraid of...\" Aleksei's purple eyes focused on the balcony as something stirred in the shadows. \"He is here.\" He said, and then ended the call and walked right over to the balcony door.\n\n**Chapter 6**\n\nIvan could not express how quickly he was becoming sick of travelling by train, but this time it was absolutely necessary. He lit a cigar, not a habit he was given to enjoying unless he was terribly stressed out, and leaned against the open door of the boxcar. Unlike most humans, even those accustomed to the hard Siberian winters, Ivan was oblivious to the cold and swirling snow blown in by the train's movement. Behind him, he heard his captive growling and he turned to look at the feral man that had once been his sweet, handsome brother. Yuri snarled and lunged at him, and Ivan struck him hard across the cheek, sending him wailing back into the corner.\n\nHe could see Yuri shivering from the cold, but he didn't dare approach him to offer him warmth or comfort. His fingers trailed instinctively across the front of his shirt and, beneath it, he felt the sting of four deep gashes left by Yuri's claws the previous evening. He only prayed he could get to medical supplies to clean them before they went septic, which they were bound to do based on the black filth beneath Yuri's nails.\n\n\"Shut up, little bastard. Can you not see I am trying to save you?\" Ivan snapped at him and suddenly Yuri's wailing ceased and he crept back out of the corner, moving in the manner of a dog that has been beaten too often. The smell of him was almost too much to bear, but Ivan had seen and smelled worse in his soldiering days, so he did not recoil at his brother's approach. He held out a strip of dried horse meat to Yuri cautiously, ready to jerk his hand back if it became necessary.\n\nCloser and closer still Yuri crept, growling a warning though his posture said he wanted to be submissive and gentle. Ivan knew better. He had fallen for that trick once, and once was enough. Yuri stopped three feet outside of Ivan's reach and seemed unwilling to come any closer, instead he sat up in a sort of crouching position and stared at Ivan with pitiful, watery brown eyes, a slight whimpering escaping him. Ivan gave a disgusted sigh and tossed the horsemeat into the air, Yuri caught it in his teeth and bounded back to his corner, clearly delighted.\n\nIvan had been obliged to torture several of the _' deds_', the elder conscripts in charge of monitoring the new recruits, in order to get information on what had happened to Yuri. At first, they denied he was even there, saying they had never heard of him, the usual song. But the military insisted Yuri was at that facility, so Ivan had started pulling out fingernails. By the time he reached the second hand of the third man, he found out that they did indeed know of Yuri, but they wouldn't say where he was. Here, he could see, was real fear of someone more powerful than themselves. This, he knew, was in the hands of the officers, not the ' _deds_ '. So, in the dark of night, he crept into the officers barracks and locked the door behind him before firing off a few rounds with his rifle to stir the men up.\n\nSleepy and stunned, the officers leapt out of bed, two of them remembered Ivan from his own days at a different camp and they paled and backed well away. \"Where is my brother? Yuri Korzhakov is his name. Give him back to me and I will leave all of you more or less unharmed. Refuse and I will spill blood before sun rises.\" He watched their faces turn, one by one, towards a particularly nasty looking piece of work hovering in the back corner of the room. \"You! Come out here where I can see you better.\" The man refused, naturally, so Ivan strode forward and dragged him out of the corner by his thin blue and white striped undershirt. In the center of the room, he bound the man to one of the many support poles and sat down in a chair in front of him. \"Rest of you can take seat on your bunks. No talking.\"\n\n\"I do not know where...\" the man started but Ivan put a finger to his lips and silenced him. He grabbed the man's hands and examined them, deciding the left hand was the one he favored. Slowly, methodically, he started to break the bones in each finger, breaking them as easily as if they were dried kindling wood. The man would not give in, though tears were flooding down his face. \"Please...\"\n\n\"I do not believe you. I think you know exactly where he is.\" Ivan said, dropping the now-useless hand and picking up the man's other hand. \"But is okay, when we are done with fingers we will start on toes. If that does not persuade you, we can move to arms and then legs, if is necessary.\"\n\nThe man was more intent on not telling than Ivan could have imagined. In the end, he left the man with all of his digits badly broken and one of his arms. It had been the snapping of his arm that had done it, finally the man had exploded with information, and Ivan had patted him on the head gratefully and left the officers' barracks. He found Yuri in a large metal cistern with about three inches of water covering the entire floor except for a raised area at the far end where Yuri was standing.\n\nHis half-brother was pinned against the wall, snarling, as a scene from Ivan's own days as a young conscript repeated itself. Not something that had happened to Ivan himself, but definitely something he had witnessed. Two of the soldiers were holding Yuri, who looked to be little more than a skeleton now, while a third was stroking his matted black hair, lovingly, speaking to him in such a soft, loving tone Ivan could not make out the words. He didn't need to, he already knew what was most likely being said.\n\nIvan watched as the _ded 's_ hand slid down Yuri's front, but before he could do any more harm, Ivan raised his rifle, and fired. The soldier dropped, his head exploding on the other two, and Yuri. The other two fled into the night, but Yuri seemed delighted to eat whatever brain matter he could find. Disgusted, Ivan approached him.\n\n\"Yuri! Stop that at once.\" He snapped and Yuri looked up at him, questioningly, his eyes round and pitiful. \"Come, I am taking you home.\" Ivan said, his voice more gentle now, his hand outstretched in a friendly gesture. \"I am your half-brother Ivan, do you not remember me?\"\n\nPerhaps an instant too late, Ivan realized that Yuri was chained by his neck to the side of the cistern and, in those mere seconds, he came to understand why. From the crouch position, Yuri leapt forward at him and stuck to Ivan's body like a cat, his sharp claws digging through Ivan's shirt and his flesh, ripping him open so that he roared in pain. Instinctively, Ivan drew back and punched his half-brother right between the eyes hard enough to put him out, catching him before he landed in the filthy water. Unfortunately, though it was hard to say for which one, Yuri did not stay unconscious long, but he did seem to have a newfound respect for Ivan. Rather than attacking again, he cowered back, his head down, licking away the blood that poured from his very likely broken nose.\n\nIvan reached for the chain and suddenly, to his surprise, Yuri perked up, his eyes bright with excitement, the injured nose forgotten. While he should have been relieved that Yuri had stopped fighting him, instead Ivan was unnerved by his half-brother's sudden eagerness to be off. Yuri heeled like any well trained mutt, his nose as often to the ground as anywhere, but Ivan's eyes were on the officer heading towards them. He was a tall man wearing insignia that indicated he most likely out ranked everyone in the camp, here was the root of the problem, Ivan knew, and his rage flared at the man's confident gait. Ivan reached behind his back and turned off the safety on his rifle, noting that Yuri was now cowering behind his legs, whimpering.\n\n\"Oi! Put that dog back in cistern. I will not have anyone handling it but myself or its owner.\" The man ordered, and when Ivan made no move to follow that order, the man stepped in very close to him. \"Maybe you do not hear so well, so I will repeat myself. Put dog back in cistern and things will not get ugly.\"\n\n\"You are man who did this to him?\" Ivan asked, a nasty smile spreading across his face as a plan suddenly came to mind.\n\n\"Da, I am, at least, partly. That dog is best bitch in any of ten army camps in this area.\" The officer puffed his chest out proudly. \"You want play time with it all you have to do is ask, rental fee is cheap, just one thousand per hour. But it is so loved...I cannot let it leave camp, men would be broken hearted. So if you will just return it to cistern...you can do whatever you want to it. With it.\"\n\n\"What gives you right to train men to be...bitches...for other soldiers to abuse?\" Ivan asked, his tone dangerously quiet as he fought to quell his rising ire. \"How do you decide which ones?\"\n\nMistaking his change in tone for interest, the officer's face lit up and he explained enthusiastically. \"We get good one in here and there, orphans most, some are criminals. Almost always they are...you know...homosexuals. Once we have identified that they are without family...then training commences immediately.\"\n\n\"And what,\" Ivan asked, in a deceptively casual tone. \"What would you do if, by chance, you discovered one of these men actually did have family?\"\n\n\"That is not possible. I did search of its records myself, not to mention its owner, man I know very well, assured me of it. This bitch has no family.\" The officer's enthusiasm was quickly turning to anger now \"Why do you not return it to cistern and we can discuss discount for services?\"\n\n\"Because, foolish man, he does have family. I am his half-brother, and I am here to take him home.\" Ivan said, drawing himself up to full height. His aggressive change in stance queued up Yuri's interest and he heard his feral brother growling behind him. \"I am growing tied of this conversation. Yuri...kill.\"\n\nThe officer tried to run but before he had gone more than a dozen steps, Yuri took him down and, using his sharp and surprisingly healthy teeth, ripped out the other man's windpipe. He made to lie down and chew on it, but Ivan tugged him along, and he followed, still holding the windpipe in his teeth.\n\n\"We will need to catch train home, Yuri, then you can...\" Ivan left off, not sure he even wanted to begin to contemplate Yuri being a cannibal at that moment. Instead, he picked up his pace, forcing Yuri to trot along behind him. He found the hole he had purposefully cut in the fence around the train yard and pulled Yuri along as the feral man hesitated at the noise and scents around him. More than once he turned back to the camp and whimpered, even trying to pull Ivan with him. Ivan couldn't believe he was actually trying to return to the place where he had obviously been so cruelly treated.\n\nReading the different lights and signs, Ivan selected a train that was Moscow bound. At first he tried to coax Yuri into getting on board, but his feral brother was having none of it. Finally, losing patience, he dragged Yuri into the empty boxcar with the help of the chain. Yuri, once he was on board, seemed perfectly content to lie down in the corner and chew on his prize. Ivan did not attempt to dissuade him, as this was not the time or place to pick such a battle. Reintegration would come later, he knew, though how on earth they would undo this damage he was completely unsure. As he was turning to settle in the other corner of the now slowly moving car, he noticed two eyes peering at him from beneath a pile of rags. Before he could move, Yuri dropped his chew-toy and sprang, landing on the man.\n\n\"Yuri! Nyet!\" Ivan shouted and his brother looked back at him, dismayed. \"Yuri...go back to toy. Go on...there is good...er...man.\"\n\n\"What in Hell is that...that thing?\" an old homeless man appeared from beneath the now-rumpled and bloodied rags. \"It...it attacked me. You cannot be in my car, this is my car and I am King here. You must find somewhere else...\"\n\n\"Okay, fine, I will just call Yuri back over and he can finish job. Tell me, old man, what do you see him chewing on?\" Ivan asked, not bothering to look. It wasn't so much that he was squeamish from seeing the body part, it was the fact it was a human being eating a human windpipe that turned his stomach.\n\n\"Is that...something's throat?\" The man blanched. Even under the layer of filth Ivan saw him pale, and he knew he'd hit a nerve.\n\n\"Some _one 's_ throat, actually. I allowed him to attack man who did this to him.\" Ivan said, then pulled a strip of horsemeat jerky out of his pack. \"Keep silent and I will give you all I have when we arrive in Moscow.\"\n\nThe man eyed the horsemeat hungrily, then snatched it quickly, his movement bringing another growl from Yuri, who clearly didn't trust him. \"Just keep that...keep him away from me.\" And now they were riding the rails, headed back towards Moscow. He wondered how he'd manage to get Yuri back to his papa's diplomatic residence. In the end, he was forced to call in a favor with his Uncle Oleg, asking that an armored van with blacked-out windows would be left sitting at the train yard unmanned for his use. He knew that his uncle would not ask questions, being a crime lord made him one to understand the necessity of discretion. All Ivan had to do now was work out how to get Yuri into the diplomatic residence without any sort of incident.\n\nDarkness was beginning to fall on their second day before he realized how exhausted he had become. He pulled two heavy crates away from the wall on their end of the car, then crawled into the space and wrapped up in the oilskin duster. He could hear Yuri whining and pacing, the jingling of the chain, now secured tightly to a steel ring so that his half-brother didn't attack their companion while Ivan slept. He could smell snow on the air around him as sleep took him surprisingly easy, brought on, he supposed, by the gentle movement of the train and the rhythmic sounds of the rails beneath the boxcar.\n\nIvan woke with a start sometime in the night, feeling something nudging against his giant body, which was covered under his warm oilskin duster. Instantly alert to any threat, he spread his nostrils wide and breathed in slowly, trying to scent the source of the physical contact. The scent that assaulted his nose was the pungent, almost sickening smell of Yuri. It appeared he was attempting to get close to Ivan, presumably for warmth, as it had gotten quite frigid in the fast moving train car. Ivan raised his arm, letting in a blast of the Siberian winter chill, and Yuri leapt away, startled and growling.\n\n\"Come, Yuri. Under my coat.\" Ivan said, gently and to his surprise, Yuri scurried right to him and curled up in a tight ball against his chest. Ivan sighed and braced himself for the inevitable stench beneath the coat, but he did not complain. Any positive physical contact between himself and Yuri was a bonding experience. As he lay still, his arm fell protectively around Yuri's shoulders, but there was no complaint given and he breathed a sigh of relief. As he drifted off to sleep, he heard Yuri licking, licking, licking at something and made a mental note to check his brother for injuries the next morning. Soon, he heard soft snoring from the tight ball of bones and skin, and he allowed himself to relax and drift off to sleep. Confident as he was that they were safe, he could never have foreseen what would happen next.\n\n**Chapter 7**\n\nAleksei froze ten feet from the balcony door and stared at the nearly unrecognizable long-bearded face staring back at him. He pinched himself hard, twice, just to be sure he wasn't dreaming. When it became clear he wasn't, he walked to the door and reached for it.\n\n\"No! Alex! Don't let that...that thing in our apartment!\" A female voice cried out behind him and he grimaced then turned to face her.\n\n\"Put the phone down, Rosa.\" He said to his roommate, his tone soft and reassuring. \"It's okay, he's...I know him...let's just leave it at that. Go up to your rooms and lock the door until you hear my door close. Once it has closed, I want you to pack your bags and leave the apartment until I get in contact with you. I will pay to put you up in whatever hotel you choose. Fair enough?\"\n\n\"But...he's...Alex...he looks like a madman...are you quite sure?\" She leaned out and looked at Yuri and a quick glance told Aleksei he'd noticed her because he was now pawing silently at the glass, his eyes wild.\n\n\"I am. He--hopefully--won't hurt me. But I fear he will attack you, so it's best you are behind locked doors and safe. I will call you when it is okay to return, as I said. And Rosa...no police. I cannot make that clear enough, you must not call the police. He will panic and things will get messy. Understand?\" Aleksei nodded and Rosa nodded back, then, giving Yuri one more glance with her lovely golden eyes, she turned and bounded back up the stairs. Her departure brought an instant howl of disapproval from Yuri. \"Shut up, fool. I do not want police here.\" Aleksei snapped the door open and Yuri shot inside, skidding to a halt on the hardwood floor, breathing heavily and sniffing the air for Rosa's scent. \"Hey! Yuri! Nyet, woman is hands off. You hear me?\"\n\nYuri looked at him insolently, then bounded off for the kitchen, Aleksei following him at a run, turning on the light in time to see Yuri circling on hands and feet in front of the fridge. Clearly they hadn't done much to cure him of his dog-like tendencies at the American institution. Aleksei sighed and opened the door to the appliance, but it was very nearly empty, only some soy-milk and spicy tofu he kept around for emergencies. One sniff of it brought a colossal sneeze from Yuri, and Aleksei tossed the now-ruined tofu in the garbage. \"I will have to order food, we do not usually cook since we eat at hospital for free.\"\n\nNone of this explanation mattered, he knew, and he saw Yuri eyeing the garbage where he'd thrown the tofu. \"Nyet, you do not go into garbage cans in my house, understand?\" His jaw dropped when Yuri nodded, then shrugged and headed back into the living room, sniffing the floor where Rosa had been standing. \"Sex and food really is all that matters to you, isn't it?\" Aleksei muttered, this time in English, and to his surprise, Yuri looked at him and whimpered, plaintively. \"Come upstairs to my rooms, let us get you bath, hm?\"\n\nYuri bounded up the stairs, hesitated at Rosa's door and for an instant Aleksei thought he might disturb the Spanish doctor, but the moment passed and he went into through the door to the left, instead. He hesitated, once inside, then followed Aleksei into the bathroom and watched with silent interest as Aleksei prepared his grooming tools for the long job ahead.\n\nThe doctor looked at the matted mass of waist-long black hair and shook his head sadly. \"That hair is going to have to come off, Yuri.\" He said and saw Yuri's hands fly to his head immediately, his eyes widening comically. \"Not all of it, I think, but there is no way I can even begin to comb that massive matting in back. These,\" he picked up the silver barber's scissors gifted him by an old lover, and held them up, \"are scissors. I am going to cut your hair, but you must be very still, these are sharp and I do not wish to hurt you, understand?\"\n\nYuri nodded, then turned his back and plopped down on the bathroom rug, waiting patiently for Aleksei to begin. Aleksei's nose wrinkled with disgust as he sat down behind Yuri on his knees so that he was a little higher up, making his job easier. He sheared through the mats with the sharp implement as gently as he could, but even so he earned himself a growl of reproach a time or two when he pulled too hard. Soon, all that was left was a rather uneven hairstyle that left Aleksei scratching his own head contemplatively. He snapped his fingers, finally and grabbed the clippers, shaving off the sides of Yuri's hair but leaving the top long, always a good style cut to have, in his opinion.\n\nNext, he turned on the water in his rarely-used bathtub, as he preferred showers, and let it heat up and run, pouring a healthy dose of his own expensive bath soap in so that there were bubbles. In his reduced mental state, Yuri was beside himself with excitement so that he tried to jump into the water still wearing the filthy pants he'd presumably had on since leaving, or rather escaping the asylum. Aleksei stopped him, gently, and indicated he wanted Yuri to disrobe, but Yuri motioned to him and otherwise refused. \"Nyet, I have had more baths this week than I think you have had in years. You go ahead.\"\n\nEventually, his excitement over the bubbles won out and Yuri obeyed, removing the filthy clothes and jumping into the tub as if it were a swimming pool, sending water and suds flying everywhere. The problem was, once he'd gotten in the water, he seemed to have forgotten what to do next. Aleksei closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh, then picked up a washcloth and started washing off Yuri's face, surprised at how, despite the nasty, long beard, just washing the dirt off made him look so much younger.\n\n**Chapter 8**\n\nDmitri groaned and sat up, rubbing the back of his head, which was still pounding as an after effect of the paralytic he had been dosed with. The first thing he noticed was that the truck had stopped, or rather, he couldn't feel any forward motion in the trailer. Second, the rear door was slightly ajar, presumably an indication to him that he was now free to go. But, he thought to himself, go where? The air coming in through the open door was freezing, and he pulled gloves out of his uniform cargo pocket and slipped his hands into them.\n\nHe checked the dial on his watch as he donned the gloves and muttered a curse under his breath, his now-elevated heart rate making is head pound all the harder. Three days he'd been shut in this trailer, three days with no relief from the headache, no bathroom save a bucket he'd found and had to secure to prevent it tipping over. No shower, no hot food...nothing but misery. For three fucking days.\n\nHe had found a stash of bottled water, Ivan had kindly taken all of the vodka. Not that Dmitri had expected him to share. He'd also found some military-style ready-to-eat meals that had all of the good stuff scavenged out. Also thanks to Ivan, who no doubt wanted him weakened for some reason, and probably not a good one, he thought. He snorted and shook his head as he glanced back at the forlorn little camp bed he'd spent most of his time lying on. It had been damned uncomfortable for his six and an half foot frame. How Ivan managed it, at nearly eight feet, he had no idea.\n\nWalking cautiously and surprisingly softly for a man of his height and build, Dmitri approached the door, hoping to catch a driver unawares. If he could commandeer the truck he could make it to civilization in a couple of days' time and head for London, where he now knew for sure he'd find his prey. After taking a deep breath, he kicked the door open with as much force as he could muster, then stared out at the bleak, unforgiving landscape of the Siberian tundra in dismay.\n\n\"Burn in Hell, Ivan Kirill Korzhakov!\" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. He didn't have to look beyond where he was standing to know the trailer had been dropped here intentionally. There was no truck attached, he'd been left here to freeze to death. But his ire was so great he wasn't about to give in easily. He found Ivan's old field pack, left by a secondary door that led out the side of the trailer though it was locked securely in place. Inside he was surprised to find even more supplies and, to his shock, his pistol and ammunition. \"Who is fool now, Ivan? You just gave man who means to kill you weapon to do it.\"\n\nWhen the phone rang, he was so startled he actually fell backwards from his crouching position to his butt, which was slightly sore still, from the fall he'd taken thanks to the drug. He did not speak when he pressed talk, then speaker, only listened first.\n\n\"Did you sleep well, angel?\" Ivan asked, in a mock-sweetheart voice, enraging Dmitri so that he nearly threw the phone, even carrying through with the gesture. \" _Nyet_? I would not be breaking phone...is only means of communication between you and outside world. With that phone you might...call in helicopter or military convoy to pick you up...\" Dmitri looked around surreptitiously, wondering how on earth Ivan had known he had almost smashed the expensive satellite phone against the wall of the trailer.\n\n\"What do you want, Ivan.\" It wasn't a question, and they both knew it. He wanted Ivan to get past the point of making fun and lay down his demands, which would be hard to swallow. That, at least, Dmitri saw coming miles away.\n\n\"Oh, are you in hurry? Looks to me like you have nowhere on Earth to go.\" Ivan said, then abruptly dropped the sweetheart-mock for his sternest businesslike manner. \"Leave Yuri alone. Promise you will not kill him and I will call in lift for you that can get there much faster than military. Refuse...and I will sever satellite com-link and leave you to die in frozen wasteland.\"\n\n\"Yuri has nothing to fear from me...for now. I have new target.\" Dmitri said and Ivan let out a shout of laughter, clearly understanding precisely what his half-brother meant. \"Is good that you can find humor when you are afraid.\"\n\n\"Afraid? Of you? Man who could not sneak up on his own shadow?\" Dmitri's free hand tightened into a fist as Ivan roared with mirth. Suddenly, he stopped. \"Come and get me, Dmitri. I would not have it any other way. Particularly if it keeps you away from Yuri.\"\n\n\"I will get to him after I am done with you.\" Dmitri snarled, and the call ended. At first he was afraid he'd said too much, and he hopped down out of the trailer, his eyes straining to see into the distance. When he saw the big truck approaching he breathed a sigh of relief. Here was the truck that had pulled him out to the middle of nowhere, and he knew it would also pull him back to safety. Then the hunt for Ivan could begin, and he could hardly wait to get started.\n\n\"Ivan says you should know,\" the driver said, flinching when Dmitri pointed his .45 at the man's head, \"Our trucks were getting stolen, so he purchased DNA recognition kits. You will not be able to drive truck without me alive and in one piece...in driver's seat. It also checks vitals of driver. If driver is dead, truck does not start.\"\n\nDmitri lowered the gun, then shook his head at the driver. \"Nyet. No way in Hell I am getting back in trailer.\"\n\n\"But...Ivan says you must. Is only way. Otherwise he will kill engine to truck and we both die out here.\" The man was clearly not happy about this, but what could he do, he shrugged miserably. Finally Dmitri gave in and climbed back in the trailer, throwing himself dejectedly onto the camp bed. His mind raced as he tried to work out where Ivan might have gone. To Moscow? Perhaps. But other than their Uncle Oleg, he had few places left to hide. Which meant any of Oleg's establishments would not be where Ivan could be found, he was smart enough to know Dmitri would check those places first. Besides, Oleg had a large family and Ivan would not want to endanger them.\n\n\"Think, Dmitri. Where would you go if you were Ivan?\" He considered for a long while, nearly dropping off to sleep. The truck hit a bump in the road, jarring him back to alertness and he sat bolt upright, feeling the evil grin slowly split his face. \"Of course. That is where I will find you, bastard.\"\n\n**Chapter 9**\n\nAleksei stepped back and looked at his work, critically. Yuri's beard had been all but shaved off, now it was neatly groomed just like his hair, which was shiny and jet black and soft, as ever it had been. Next, Aleksei picked up Yuri's left hand and looked at the jagged, filth stained nails there. Shaking his head, he let out a long sigh. \"I need to...\" before he could say more, Yuri bounced up and kissed him, square on the mouth. He didn't have time to react because in an instant, Yuri was cowering on the floor, backing away from him, clearly expecting punishment. \" _Nye_ t...Yuri, come here.\" Aleksei said, softly and Yuri returned, hesitantly, his eyes watching Aleksei's hands for any threat. \"Back where you were, I want to trim your fingernails before you do one of us real harm.\"\n\n\"Yuri....n...n...not hurt....Lexie...Yuri...l...l...love.\" Yuri said, his voice sounded hoarse from lack of use, and Aleksei had to turn his back for a moment to get himself under control. Arms, overly skinny but wiry strong, threaded around his midsection and he felt Yuri's head lay between his shoulder-blades. They were the same height, when standing, but Yuri was leaning with his butt resting on the bathroom counter. \"C...c...c...cut....n...n...n...\"\n\n\"Okay, _da_ , you are right. Let us get to work so we can order in, I am starving and you...you look positively starved to death.\" Aleksei took the hand Yuri was now offering him and went to work on the nails. When he was done he had trimmed both hands and both feet, cleaning them within an inch of existence. \"Now, clothes.\"\n\nHe left the bathroom, listening to the whisper soft sound of Yuri's feet on the carpet behind him as he went into the closet. \"You are so skinny I am afraid nothing I have will fit you and that is saying lot because I have to really look for things skinny enough for me!\" He talked to Yuri casually, as if this were an everyday thing, rummaging around in his walk-in wardrobe the whole while. Finally, he found some yoga pants that still had the drawstring in the waist and an old sleeveless shirt that looked comically big on Yuri. He also provided underwear, which Yuri eyed with suspicion. \"Put those on first, under...\"\n\nToo late. Yuri had already pulled on the yoga pants with nothing under them, though he looked as if he felt rather awkward in the new, soft cotton work out clothing. Once they were back in the bedroom, he started nudging Aleksei towards the bed, his growling returning now, as if he only had one thing on his mind and had forgotten food altogether. \" _Nyet_ , Yuri, I am hungry. I want to order food in....are you not hungry?\"\n\n\"D... _Da_.\" Yuri managed, though his expression was sulky and slightly disappointed. \"M...me....meat...\"\n\n\"Okay, but it will have to be cooked. I am doctor, I cannot allow you to eat raw meat. If something happens to you Ivan will skin me alive.\" Aleksei said, but knew in an instant he shouldn't have because Yuri took such comments quite literally.\n\n\"Yuri...k...k...kill Ivan if he hurts...\" Yuri said, hopping on the bed and sitting cross-legged, running his fingers across the satin sheets gently. \"Yuri like.\"\n\n\"Yuri, you understand that when food comes I will have to go to door...you cannot be howling....I have neighbors and they will call police...\" Aleksei said, holding the phone at the ready now that he'd made a mental decision on what they would be eating. He watched for Yuri to nod, then turned on the phone and dialed, noticing how Yuri watched with interest not only how he dialed the phone but also how the order was placed and paid for. Next time, Aleksei was willing to bet, he'd be able to give Yuri the phone and credit card and Yuri would do it himself. He was, and had always been, intelligent, so Aleksei expected he'd relearn normal behaviors, even if it did take a little time.\n\nWhen the door buzzer sounded not fifteen minutes later, Aleksei reminded Yuri to be very quiet before leaving the room and heading down to the common area he and Rosa shared. On the other side of the door was an enormous problem he hadn't been counting on. An ex-lover. \"Alex!\"\n\n\"Phillipe.\" Aleksei said, by way of a rather icy greeting. Theirs had been a short lived and hurtful fling soon after Aleksei had moved into the hospital district; to say he was not happy to see this man was an understatement. \"The food, please?\"\n\n\"Ohhh, are you in a hurry?\" Phillipe said, his tone greasy as ever. \"Must have a date. Who's the lucky man?\" He saw Phillipe looking over his shoulder and turned to see Yuri standing at the bottom of the stairs, an angry snarl on his face.\n\n\"Just give me the fucking food Phillipe. You don't want to mess with him, he's...unstable.\" Aleksei said, his tone pleading.\n\n\"He looks about twelve.\" Phillipe brushed past Aleksei and into the den. \"Hello, little one, my name is Phillipe. What's your name?\"\n\n\"He doesn't speak English. He's twenty-nine, same as you.\" Aleksei answered in Yuri's stead.\n\n\"Shit, Alex...you need to find out his secret!\" Phillipe circled Yuri, looking up at him, thoughtfully. \"If you ever get tired of Alex, look me up, hm sugar?\" He reached out to touch Yuri's face, an innocent gesture to anyone else, but he found himself in the floor face down in a flash with Yuri's bony knee grinding painfully into his back. \"Alex...what the fuck man?\"\n\n\"I told you, he's unstable. He does not like to be touched by anyone he does not know. He thought you were threatening him.\" Aleksei nodded to Yuri and Yuri let Phillipe up, immediately. \"Now, if you will excuse us, I haven't seen him in about ten years and I really want to get reacquainted. Don't let the door hit you in the ass...\"\n\nTo say Yuri's table manners left something to be desired would be, Aleksei thought, the understatement of the millennia, but he was intelligent and observant and as expected, soon relearned that which had been so long ago forgotten. Within a week, Aleksei felt safe allowing Rosa to come back home, and he made the call, feeling slightly nervous though he couldn't figure out why.\n\n\"Rosa? It...its Alex.\" He spoke hesitantly when she answered the phone, half-expecting her to tell him to find another intern to room with and slam the phone down.\n\n\"Alex...thank God. I've been worried sick about you!\" She gasped into the phone. \"That...that man is he gone?\"\n\n\"No, he's still here but...listen...Rosa?\" he waited for her to respond and closed his eyes in relief. \"I've got him straightened out. You're safe to come home now, if...if you still want to room with me. If not, I'm sure the board would see fit to allow you to move into a different domicile...\"\n\n\"Too much of a headache, and besides, you're probably one of the least boring doctors on the campus. Not to mention, you work in the same field I'm studying to work in myself.\" She breathed a sigh of relief. \"I'll be home in an hour or so...you're still going to pick up the tab?\"\n\n\"As promised. I couldn't expect you to take care of it yourself, could I?\" Aleksei smiled into the phone, then glanced up as Yuri bounced down the stairs, his hair rumpled and his face showing him to be sleepy. \"Which hotel are you at? Really? Well, well, little miss, you certainly enjoyed living on my dime. No,\" he laughed, \"It's no problem. I can afford to spoil a _woman_ at least once in my life.\"\n\nHe rang off and immediately called the hotel to settle her expenses, which were surprisingly few, as he had expected she would spend a good chunk on herself. That done, he noticed Yuri was sitting at the dining room table looking forlorn. \"Yuri, love, what is troubling you?\"\n\n\"You are letting woman come back...she hates...me.\" He had begun speaking more and more regularly, surprising Aleksei with his knowledge of the English language. Presumably he'd picked it up in the American hospital, though he never really offered an explanation. \"She will make you throw poor Yuri...me...back out.\"\n\n\" _Nyet_ ...No Yuri, she will not. Give Rosa a chance, okay? Already she has forgiven you for the way you arrived. Try to be as nice to her as you have been to me. Nicer, in fact.\" He rubbed his lower back self-consciously, he hadn't had so much exercise with another human being in months, and Yuri was quite enthusiastic as a lover, \"Remember what we talked about...she is off limits.\"\n\n\"Yuri no mate.\" He said, dismally, but then perked up and moved on to something else. \"Breakfast?\"\n\n\"Um...sure.\" Aleksei was never quite sure how to react to Yuri's sudden and seemingly lightning fast shifts in focus, so he simply rolled with it as best he could.\n\nJust as he was loading their breakfast dishes into the dishwasher and Yuri was again observing with interest, he heard a key in the door and turned, staggering back slightly at the sight of the man following closely behind his roommate. She was pale as a ghost with terror, as well she should be as he towered over her five and a half foot frame. From behind Aleksei, Yuri shot like a bullet towards the intruder and leapt on him, nearly knocking him down, his arms wrapping tightly around his neck.\n\n\"Well, is good to see you too, little brother.\" Ivan said, then pried Yuri off of him as gently as he could and sat him back down on his feet.\n\n\"I...I hope it's okay he just...looked so much like you I knew he had to be telling the truth even if he's...he's a fucking giant..\" Rosa said, backing away as Aleksei stared up at Ivan.\n\n\"I do not know about looking so much like him...I have always been better looking.\" Ivan said, smirking down at Aleksei.\n\n\"And I have always been a damn sight smarter.\" Aleksei said, and they did the routine embrace and kiss on both cheeks greeting, Ivan bending to reach Aleksei, despite the fact Aleksei was six feet even in height.\n\n\"You must be, how is it you are living with beautiful woman? That seems a little...out of your area, if you know what I mean.\" Ivan said, then settled on the couch and looked at him interestedly. Rosa, to Aleksei's dismay, did not depart but rather sat as close to Ivan as she could without being overly obvious. Yuri was on the other side, staring up at his half-brother with clear adoration. It had been Ivan, after all, who had saved Yuri from a fate worse than death so many long years ago.\n\n\"Every doctor lives with an intern. Up the stairs there are two smaller apartments, hers on the right and mine on the left. Since I'm gay, I make an excellent candidate to cohabitate with a female or a male, though in my experience I've found women are more likely to choose my...type.\" It was more complicated than that, he knew, but he explained it the easiest possible way. Now Ivan turned his attention to Yuri, putting a finger under his chin and looking into his eyes. He opened his mouth and checked his teeth, then pinched at his arm gently, looking for any fat.\n\n\"They must have half-starved him.\" Ivan said, and suddenly Aleksei realized, Ivan didn't know Yuri had begun talking again. \"Do you know how he escaped?\"\n\n\"Did not escape. Threw me out in street with nothing. No food, no money, alm...almost no clothes...\" Yuri said, in English no less, and Ivan looked positively bowled over.\n\n\"When did...this start?\" Ivan gestured towards Yuri, clearly referring to his speech.\n\n\"He's been speaking from the first night. I didn't realize he understood or could speak English until a little later...\" He broke off when Rosa cleared her throat softly. She then blushed when Ivan looked at her as if he'd forgotten she was even there.\n\n\"I...I should take my bags upstairs and get a nap...I go on duty at ten tonight.\" She said, standing and immediately both Ivan and Yuri were on their feet.\n\n\"I will carry your bags up. Yuri...stay.\" Ivan said, forgetting the conversation in favor of following Rosa up the stairs, carrying her two light-weight bags. Bags Aleksei knew very well she could carry for herself, though she didn't seem to mind the help he suspected they'd not be seeing Ivan for a while. When they were gone, Yuri turned and looked at Aleksei, a knowing smirk on his face.\n\n\"Ivan mate.\" He whispered, and Aleksei rolled his eyes, then allowed himself to be led to his own rooms, his mind not on Ivan, or Rosa, in the least.\n\n**Chapter 10**\n\nIvan woke to the feel of Yuri vibrating slightly against his chest. At first, he thought it was just because he was cold, since it was freezing in the train car, after all. But then he started to notice things as his faculties woke up. The first being that the train wasn't moving anymore, and that wasn't a good realization to make. The second was that Yuri wasn't shivering, he was actually growling so softly it was almost silent. Ivan could feel the tenseness of his half-brother's body now and his eyes caught movement through a slight gap between his coat and the floor where he saw the familiar boots of two conscripts very nearby. He gave Yuri's ribcage a gentle and slight tap with his fingers to indicate he was conscious and aware of the situation and Yuri's growling ceased immediately.\n\n\"Crawl out, act...well...act like yourself. Do them no harm until we know their purpose. Could be they are just looking for homeless to round up.\" Ivan said, in the softest of whispers. He hadn't considered himself to fall into this category since he had a home and even a car waiting for him somewhere near the Moscow station. Of course, he had no way of knowing if they were actually in Moscow, not until he could see outside of the boxcar. Yuri unfurled himself and crept out from under the coat, whimpering pitifully and cowering as the conscripts noticed him and approached him, talking loudly. Yuri moved away, jerking on the chain, which was in Ivan's hand, he looked at Ivan's coat as it stirred and hunkered even lower down than he had at the sight of the soldiers, his demeanor one of absolute terror.\n\n\"Hey, come out so we can see you, da?\" One of them nudged Ivan with his boot and Ivan had to resist the urge to break his ankle. Instead, he threw off his coat and sprang to his feet, watching the comical expressions of the conscripts as they watching him grow to his near eight feet in height. \"What you are doing in boxcar?\"\n\n\"I am taking dog for train ride. Is that illegal since I am not homeless?\" Ivan asked, then snapped and pointed to his feet and Yuri heeled immediately, sitting on his haunches but, Ivan frowned seeing that Yuri was licking at his left hand again as if it pained him.\n\n\"What is wrong with that boy?\" One of the conscripts was getting a twitchy trigger finger, which made Ivan not just wary but downright nervous. \"You are some kind of...pervert, da?\"\n\n\"Nyet, I am not. This \"boy\" is nineteen, well over legal age. Besides, he is not my plaything. He is friend's pet. Friend is on vacation so I took dog for walk...it went little longer than I expected as we got stuck on train. Where are we at now? I need to call friend, he will be worried sick about his pet. Good ones like this are hard to find, you know?\" Ivan was hoping against hope they bought his bullshit, because if they didn't he'd find himself locked up and probably lose Yuri forever. \"Listen, I am rich man, maybe we can work something out...\"\n\nThat got their attention. After the mention of money, it was all in the details. The conscripts forgot they'd ever seen the giant man and his 'dog' and both of them walked away with significantly more substantial bank rolls. They even turned the other way and did not see the vehicle Ivan drove away in, as Yuri had a panic-attack in the back and made a hell of a lot of noise. By the time they arrived at the diplomatic residence, Ivan had contacted his papa and asked him to clear the way so he could bring Yuri in.\n\nThe servants, he insisted, did not need to see the man like this and his papa had been hesitant for the first time, unsure of what he was going to witness. When Ivan asked him to open up the sub-basement, Sergei sounded nearly faint, but he did as he was asked, waiting patiently to see his youngest son, to gauge the damage that had been done. What he saw would leave him so grief-stricken he would fall into a depression that only made the radiation sickness that much worse, and within two years' time, he would succumb.\n\n**Chapter 11**\n\nDmitri stretched and threw off the arm of the woman sleeping on his right. The movement brought a sleepy murmur of protest from his left and he sighed, then wormed his way out from between the previous evening's entertainment. After dressing, he tossed a few paper bills (and some coins, just to be a jerk) on the small table by the hotel room window, grabbed the old field pack Ivan had left in the trailer, and departed. His head was pounding like mad and his mouth tasted worse than shit as he looked for a soda machine, finally finding one, he thanked his luck that it held bottled water. He bought four bottles, drinking three while he stood by the machine and then stowing a fourth in the bag for later, unopened so that it would not leak.\n\nNow to work out where the bastard might be hiding so he could finish this. He wanted them both dead, that was true enough, but what he really wanted, more than anything, was to be able to rest, to be able to wipe the demons of his past from his memory. Would killing them achieve that? He did not know, but he was at the point where he was willing to try. If it did not work, he had resigned himself to the fact he was going to have to just end himself. Shaking off the thought, he checked the directory in a nearby phone-box and found that the number was still in his papa's name.\n\nSeeing that name, printed there as if his papa was still living, sent another surge of sadness through him, almost too painful to bear. If it was still in Sergei's name, then that meant it was still in his ownership. If Ivan had taken the little fag there, they'd be trespassing and he'd be well within his right to shoot them. Smiling nastily, he walked down the muddy main street of the village, his personal hunting rifle, fetched from the private storage vault of the arms depot in Moscow, thrown over his shoulder. The pistol Ivan had so foolishly left him was on his hip.\n\nLast night he'd picked up the two women at a local nightclub. It was easy enough for a man in uniform to do so in these small towns. Pulling on his uniform with expert precision, he'd gone out of the small hotel room knowing precisely what he was looking for. It hadn't taken long before two over-painted and underdressed slags were all over him. Whether or not they were whores, he never asked, the money had been left in case they were not, just to remind them he'd used them all the same. It never bothered him much, all through his military career, he'd seen their kind, and he'd always treated them the same. The women, for their part, all saw the dream of being married to a military man, which was one of the few stable, and halfway-decent paying, legal occupations these days. Of course, Dmitri had talked himself up just a bit. Maybe more than a bit. In truth, he'd been released from duty almost a month before Yuri was released.\n\nThey, the military officials in his court martial, said his behavior had become erratic, dangerous even, all because he shot someone in the neck when they walked up behind him in the latrine tent. That, he had insisted, had been an accident. But the officers above him had then asked him why he'd had a gun on him in the latrines, and why he'd been wearing body armor around his own countrymen. Unable to reply in a way that made him not seem paranoid, Dmitri had been forced to take the discharge, which had been honorable, but that hadn't made things any easier to swallow.\n\nHe moved slowly up the muddy, seldom used driveway through the morning mist, his eye on the silhouette of a large country estate set back beyond two symmetrically planted rows of sycamore trees that lined either side of the drive. His keen eye could just make out lights on in one of the upstairs rooms, so he knew the house was occupied. Still, the general state of disuse made him a little uncomfortable. Had he really let things go so badly downhill in the years following his father's passing? Probably, he nodded to himself. Having a country estate just hadn't mattered to him, as he'd been far away near the Black Sea the last few years of his assignment.\n\nWhen he opened the front gate the door swung inward and his hand twitched towards his pistol, but stopped. Better he did not arouse suspicion, not now, not when the door could still be slammed in his face and locked from within. The familiar face of the butler appeared and old man gasped in utter surprise.\n\n\"Dmitri, sir! We have waited for years...please, come in sir! I will have kitchen fix you breakfast. Why did you not call before you came? We might have sent car into village to pick you up.\" The butler fussed over him until Dmitri was ready to shoot him, just to shut him up. Finally the man's excitement seemed to settle some and Dmitri was able to get a word in edgewise.\n\n\"Have my brothers arrived yet?\" He asked, casually, as if were all planned, but at the dumbfounded look on the butler's face he knew the answer immediately.\n\n\"Sir...I am sure I do not know what you mean...Ivan is away working in carnivals and....surely you know...young Master Yuri is lost to us?\" He asked, looking more suspicious now than he had. \"How is it they could be here, then?\"\n\n\"We were supposed to meet here, I thought. Perhaps I was mistaken. I need to settle affairs of this house anyway, since I am out this way.\" Dmitri said, his tone calm though his mind was white hot with rage. It seemed, at least to him, that he really was the fool Ivan took him for. Now he knew exactly where to find all three of them. London. It was getting there that would be the problem. Heading into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, he requested the finance books and ledgers and any other thing to set the estate right. Might as well get something done, since he'd be here a few days until the next train to Moscow arrived.\n\n**Chapter 12**\n\n\"Just so you know...I do not usually follow strange women to their rooms....\" Ivan said as Rosa unlocked the door, his attitude one of mock wariness, as if she might take advantage of him. Already she had captured his interest, and he was curious to see if he had captured hers.\n\n\"You don't have to come in if you don't want to.\" Rosa said, not turning around so that she could keep her smile hidden, but Ivan could hear the mirth in her tone. \"I'll take my bags from here and you can sleep on the sofa downstairs...it's uncomfortable, but I'm willing to bet you don't want to share a room with Alex and...what's his name?\"\n\n\"Yuri and no, you are right about that. I am not inclined towards their preferences.\" He heard Aleksei give an impatient grunt at his comment, but did not look back just listened for the door to the adjacent room to close, softly. \"I am not big fan of leather couch for sleeping. Maybe I will take you up on offer for nap?\"\n\n\"Nap. Right.\" Rosa said and then grabbed his shirt and yanked him into the room, slamming the door and leaning on it, the look in her golden eyes now that she had him trapped was positively wild. \"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find real men around here?\"\n\n\"Living in this apartment? Da, I can guess.\" Ivan smirked down at her and she laughed. \"You mean on campus? I would think for woman as beautiful as you it would be matter of declaring yourself to be single and looking.\"\n\n\"No, you couldn't be more wrong, actually.\" Rosa put her soft, manicured hand in his giant rough one and pulled him into her private sitting room-style den. He settled on the sofa and she moved about, fetching them both a beer. Not his favorite drink, but he didn't care, his mind was only on learning all he could about the woman now sitting to his right. \"Most everyone here is job-oriented. They're not worried about getting into a relationship and in fact, most of them are afraid of an unexpected pregnancy or...or any other thing that could happen.\"\n\n\"And you are not worried?\" Ivan was alert now, not that he had any concerns. The particular genetic oddity that made him so tall had also left him completely sterile. Much to the chagrin of the Russian government, who had wanted to, for lack of a better phrase, stud him out.\n\n\"Of course not! I know how to keep from getting knocked up...it's not like birth control is rocket science anymore. Maybe in the twenty-first century or before, but not now!\" Rosa said and Ivan breathed an inward sigh of relief. \"I'm safe from that until I decide to have the procedure reversed. Even when I tell them that, men are still wary. Then their fear shifts to charges being brought because some women kiss and file charges.\" She sighed heavily. \"I've got to get some sleep, really. Are you sleeping out here or...?\"\n\n\"I will sleep wherever you permit me to sleep, pretty one.\" Ivan said to her and she pulled him into the bedroom, slamming the door once more as if she were trying to keep him from escaping. To answer the obvious question, no he did not have actual intercourse with her, though he had an aching desire to do so. He had grown out of that phase many years ago, and now he was more interested in not hurting her when he had to leave, which he knew would be inevitable. As soon as she saw him sitting on her bed, untying his heavy conscript's boots, Ivan knew from her expression she had lost her nerve. No, he wanted to get to know this one, she had the look and fire and brains of a woman he might like to one day settle down with.\n\nBut, still, deep down he knew the truth, and it hurt him now as much as he suspected it would hurt her when the time came. He could not remain in London forever. The three of them being in one place made Dmitri's errand all the more simple, and he knew that sooner or later, his half-brother would figure out he and Yuri had been here all along. Even Dmitri, whose wit Ivan considered to be severely-lacking, would eventually arrive at that conclusion.\n\n**Chapter 13**\n\nLife went on after that, much as it had before Yuri, and later Ivan, had turned up. With Ivan in the domicile to keep Yuri occupied during the day or night, depending on their shift that week, Rosa and Aleksei were able to keep up a façade of normalcy. Ivan had already warned them that Dmitri was probably watching and that it would be best if they carried on as casual as possible.\n\n\"Eventually, he will grow impatient because he knows his target is here. Then he will show himself, and we will be ready.\" Ivan produced a large envelope from inside of his bag and held it out to Aleksei. \"Put these documents where you can grab them at a moment's notice. They are forged, but they are excellent forgeries, Uncle Oleg hires only best in business, you will be able to take Yuri safely out of country with them. Rosa...\"\n\n\"No! I...I'm staying here with you!\" He and Rosa now had a kind of thing for each other, Aleksei knew, but he hadn't any idea just how far that 'thing' had progressed.\n\n\"You are going with Alek...Alex. Though where you will go I have no idea.\" Ivan looked troubled, but Rosa perked up immediately.\n\n\"My family has a summer house on the coast of Spain...No one will be there now because it is almost winter, they will have gone back into the city. It is gated and even has guards...\" She looked slightly embarrassed but Ivan smiled broadly, so she returned the smile.\n\n\"That sounds perfect. Do not leave any information about the place here but what you can tell me. It would be better Dmitri not know address, you know?\" Ivan asked, and she nodded, though her expression was a little sad. Perhaps she, too, had realized that eventually Ivan would have to leave. Aleksei studied her quietly, but said nothing, just chewed his vegan meal in silence.\n\nOnly three days passed before the inevitable actually occurred. They were sitting in the living room when someone pounded heavily at the door. Ivan had to grab Yuri and drag him with one hand and a furious Rosa with the other, up the stairs to Rosa's rooms, as previously arranged. They had planned for every eventuality and still both Rosa and Yuri were a handful to control, even for Ivan, and that was saying a lot. Aleksei hurried about, clearing the table to look as if he'd dined alone, giving them time to get settled and quiet upstairs. The knocking got more ferocious with every passing minute and Aleksei was silently thankful he had opted for an apartment with the steel security door.\n\nFinally, after composing himself using his reflection in the microwave oven door, he went to the front door, which was actually moving from the beating it was receiving. He opened the door a crack, not unfastening the chain, then jumped back as Dmitri slammed it open, tearing the chain from the wall. Just as Ivan had said he would.\n\n\"Where is he, Aleksei?\" He asked, pushing past the slender doctor as if he were nothing and heading into the empty den area.\n\n\"Who? Ivan? I have no clue.\" Aleksei said, deliberately keeping his tone light and casual, unconcerned even. \"Why are you asking me?\"\n\n\"Because I know of all three of you, you are worst liar. And no,\" he added, \"not Ivan. Is Yuri I am looking for...but you knew that already, did you not?\"\n\nAleksei laughed, hoping inwardly it was convincing. \"You have gone right out of your tree, my son. You know as well as I do that Yuri is in asylum in States. Far away from where you can do him harm. I made sure of that...we all did.\"\n\nIn a flash, Dmitri had him pinned against the brick wall by the gas-log fireplace, his hand so tight around Aleksei's throat that it was cutting off air. Before he could speak again, however, a woman's sharp voice interrupted.\n\n\"Okay, enough.\" Rosa said softly, but authoritatively, having just appeared, her mobile phone at the ready. \"If Alex says he doesn't know, then he doesn't know!\" Aleksei gave a soft groan as Dmitri turned to size her up, releasing him completely. Not that Dmitri understood what she had said, he didn't speak a word of English, though he did seem to catch the name 'Alex' and it appeared to gall him considerably.\n\n\"Well, well...you must be feeling very lonely having,\" he sneered out the next word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, despite the fact he was speaking in Russian, it was clear Rosa had picked up on the threatening tone. \" _Alex_ for roommate. What is pretty woman like you doing living with fag like him?\"\n\n\"Stop, Dmitri. She is just my roommate, nothing more.\" Aleksei said, but he could tell by the way Dmitri was moving closer to Rosa he had no intention of stopping with simple words. Grabbing a wine bottle from the garbage bin, he slipped up behind Dmitri and hit him hard across the back of his skull. The blood that came was immediate, but his loss of consciousness, not so much. He managed to pull a gun, but his vision was so blurry he was waving it all around, pointing it in the complete wrong direction. Ivan slipped down from Rosa's room, where he and Yuri had been hiding, and finished knocking him out with a stiff punch in the side of the head. As soon as Dmitri was out, Yuri ran to Aleksei and clung to him, sniffing him all over, as if he were looking for injuries.\n\n\"You take Yuri and woman...sorry, Rosa, get out of here. Go out of country...somewhere, anywhere. Keep cell phone on you. I will contact you for location in three days but you must not tell me where it is you have gone until I request it. I should be able to find you without asking, but to be on safe side...\" Ivan said, putting a heavy booted foot on the back of Dmitri's neck, as he was already beginning to stir. \"Take envelope that I brought you...it has everything you will need. Go! Now!\"\n\nIn mere seconds after they had fled, Ivan ripped the landline phone cord out of the wall and crushed the handset with his boot heel. Then, as Dmitri was beginning to find his feet, Ivan tripped the security alarms, drew his weapon and pointed it at Dmitri, who froze and stared at him in utter confusion. \"What?\" he finally managed to slur out, \"You are so afraid now you call in police?\"\n\nIvan let out a bark of laughter as sirens sounded in the distance. He reached into his right inside coat pocket with his left hand and held out a rather official looking badge. \"I am professional bodyguard and you...you are sick man who has been stalking my client. Do us favor and keep right on playing along.\"\n\nWhen the police stormed into the domicile, Ivan held up his badge and was immediately overlooked as Dmitri was hauled to his feet and put into cuffs. Once he was safely in the back of a police wagon after giving them a hell of a struggle that resulted in a Taser being used, the police returned to Ivan to question him.\n\n\"Who is that man?\" The duty sergeant, still out of breath from the struggle getting the furious Dmitri safely contained, asked and Ivan shrugged.\n\n\"Obsessed man. Not really sure where he attached himself to my client, but as she works in emergency department as part of her school, I would have to guess he saw her there.\" Ivan said, his tone one of a man who simply wanted to help control a dangerous criminal. \"She hired me because...well, I suppose you can see why.\"\n\n\"I've never heard of this company you work for out of Russia...if I call this phone number, what am I going to find out?\" Ivan was, of course, prepared for this line of questioning, and smiled amicably.\n\n\"You are going to find out that boss misses me because I am good employee. As for you never having heard of our company, all I can say is of course you have not. We typically do not work outside of Russia, but client was offering whopping fee and no good Russian man ever turns down money.\"\n\n\"Where is your client now? We would like to speak with her if you don't mind.\"\n\n\"She has gone out of country, because of stalker, but I can give you her mobile number if you wish to contact her. All I can ask is that you not give this information to her stalker...for reasons I am sure you can understand.\" Ivan said, then dug out his day book and tore out a sheet of paper written in Rosa's own hand. On the opposite page was a pencil sketch of her sleeping, fully clothed, that he'd done only two nights prior. He glanced at the picture and smiled slightly, his heart skipping a beat. \"That crazy bastard is former Russian military, possibly another reason why she selected our agency. I have dealt with his kind in past, so, I had contingency plan in place to get her safely out of country at moment's notice.\"\n\n\"But you can't tell me which country you've sent her to?\" The policeman eyed him suspiciously.\n\n\"Nyet, I gave her choice of five. I will find her in less than three days...if you see fit to let me be on my way?\" Ivan asked the final question in as humble a tone as he could manage.\n\n\"No, don't leave town for a couple of days, at least not until we make contact with your client and verify we've arrested the right man. You know how it is mate...we have to be careful.\" The policeman shook his hand and Ivan looked over at the police wagon, where a woozy-looking Dmitri was glaring at him with murderous vitriol. When the officer turned his back, Ivan shot him the middle finger and then walked back into the apartment building with his chest thrown out. Once out of view of the cops, he immediately texted Aleksei's phone, telling them so far so good but that they should not deviate from the plan.\n\n**Chapter 14**\n\n_One Year Later ..._\n\nThe purchase of such an immense amount of property was bound to dredge up all of the media attention in the city, William knew, but for his partner Daniel, he was willing to do anything. Even if it was risky, he knew it was deserved after all Daniel had been through. So, working with teams of attorneys and others who were savvier than he at handling the media, he was able to make the transition nicely. Within a month, he was the proud owner of one city block of newly-zone residential housing. Once an enormous warehouse, after looking at it, he and Daniel had decided it was best kept that way, just remodeled on the inside. During that time, both men also underwent dialect coaching so that they might fit in perfectly, their story being that of two newly-made billionaires who only wanted to live the quiet life.\n\nOn their bodies, in inconspicuous places, were the only markers that they were not at all who they seemed. William, on his inner left thigh, had the name \"Aleksei\" written in Russian. Daniel not only had the name \"Yuri\" tattooed on his inner left thigh, but on the right was a letter, written in Russian and addressed to someone named Ivan, it read:\n\n_\" Ivan, if you are reading this letter, then you know that he has found us and succeeded in his mission. I can only hope that you will return favor. Know that Aleksei kept me safe, and he loved me every day as well as he could have. I was not always best person to him, but I tried, and I never hurt him. Not physically, anyway. Thank you for all you have done, sacrifices you have made. My love to my brother, Yuri.\" _\n\nIf it seemed a little strange, the tattoo artist said nothing, not that he spoke Russian, nor did he know exactly what the letter said. Besides, no one would speak of the strange tattoos, especially after the enormous gratuity the tall, slender blonde handed him. He would never see the pair again, but Daniel had gotten the tattoo bug and would soon look like a walking canvas of colorful and sometimes dark or even violent images on his back. Against William's wishes, though it was, Daniel had an entire set of his own painstakingly done drawings that depicted his life. Though doing so clearly caused him physical and emotional pain, he drew his evolution from what he had been to what he had become and then to what he was currently. William argued it was too risky, that someone might see it and connect the dots, but Daniel only shrugged it off, rubbing his left-hand absently.\n\nWilliam had always wondered about that hand, but Daniel had never wanted to explain it, and as ever William didn't pressure him for the story. Drawing those tattoos was the first and last time William ever got to see him draw anything. It was a shame because, prior to his ordeal in Russia, Daniel had been an extremely talented artist. After, with the injured left hand, he was unable to draw without extreme discomfort. William could only surmise that these drawings, these tattoo designs, meant so much to him that the pain was worth it. So he dropped it, and Daniel got the tattoos.\n\n\"Let him come, if he wants to. I'll be ready for him.\" Daniel had said, and he meant it, because soon after the warehouse was renovated, he enlisted some of the best martial arts trainers in the business to hone his already considerable skills.\n\nWilliam, for his part, took a job at the local hospital, working the hours nobody wanted and dealing with the worst of the worst. This was, he decided, his own way of dealing with what he knew would come inevitably, and he threw himself into his work.\n\nSo it was, deep in the hard upper Midwest American winter, that they were discovered. Daniel was 'holding court' as William liked to call it, several of his friends, including Daniel's girlfriend, were all watching horror flicks in the downstairs den. Snow and sleet alternately pounded at the large glass windows high above them and the wind was moaning around the old building. Inside, however, it was warm and the atmosphere cozy, as the group of twenty-something year old Goths basically snuggled together on the enormous couch and thick-carpeted floor. The woman Daniel had been dating slipped from his arms, though he seemed reluctant to let her go, his arms and hands staying on her until she had crawled over the back of the sofa.\n\n\"Bathroom.\" She whispered, and he nodded, then turned back to the movie.\n\nThe peace was short lived, however, when she shrieked and came flying back into the room, paler than usual, her green eyes wide with fear. She pointed her finger, mouthing wordlessly in her panic, gesturing to the kitchen. Immediately, Daniel was on his feet, casually telling the others to relax, she'd probably seen a spider. It amused him, a tough young woman like her being afraid of spiders like she was, but then he had a fear of things that were irrational to everyone but him. So who was he to judge? When he saw the enormous shape of a man standing in the kitchen, he sagged back hard against the wall.\n\n\"Go ahead to the bathroom,\" he whispered to the young woman, who was cowering behind him. \"I'll handle this...just keep everyone in the den for now.\" He walked boldly into the darkened kitchen and closed the door, then flicked on the light\n\n\"I am sorry...I was looking for my brothers. I think I have wrong house.\" The giant blonde said, staring down at this strange looking young man. His hair was black, cut in a strange way, and he was marked with more tattoos than Ivan had ever seen on anyone outside of a prison. His eyes were the color of amber and he had three metal spikes sticking out of his bottom lip along with at least five earrings in each ear. Not to mention the fact that he was wearing black eyeliner.\n\n\"What if I could show you something that would prove you wrong?\" the young man asked and the blonde's brow furrowed, then he snorted.\n\n\"I doubt that. Men I am looking for would not fit in here.\" He said, then motioned to the door. \"That is your girlfriend, da?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's right.\"\n\n\"That cancels all out immediately, men I am looking for are gay.\" He looked a little uncomfortable saying this as it made it sound as if he were gay, too, so he repeated hastily, \"They _are_ my brothers.\"\n\nThe young man began pulling off his clothes, well, his layers of shirts anyway, as the blonde watched uncomfortably. \"Look. The tattoos on my back. Look and you will understand.\"\n\n\"My God...Yuri...what has happened to you? Where is Aleksei? I am going to kick his ass.\" Ivan swelled in anger, but Yuri shook his head.\n\n\"My name is Daniel now. Yuri Korzhakov died in a car accident exactly one year ago today in Paris. Did you not hear? Aleksei Kruchev also died in the same accident.\" He gave Ivan an exaggerated wink, then added, \"He goes by William now and he is upstairs in one of his many rooms, reading or sleeping, hard to say.\"\n\n\"And Rosa?\" Ivan asked, looking hopeful, not that he wasn't glad to see his brothers, but he'd been wanting to see the Spanish woman again, too.\n\n\"No. She stayed in Spain, but she did want us to contact her if you ever turned up.\" He fished in his pocket for his wallet, then fetched out a small slip of paper with an international phone number written in Rosa's own hand. After pulling his layers of shirts back on, he smiled up and then embraced his brother. \"I know it's been too damn long when you actually look tall to me. When I saw you every day I'd kinda got used to it, you know?\"\n\n\"But Yu...Daniel...you have girlfriend? How?\" Ivan asked, looking almost at a loss for words.\n\n\"It seems I like it both ways. Best of both worlds, I suppose. Crystal keeps me warm at night when William is working. When she is working during the day, William keeps me warm.\" He shrugged, then fetched a bottle of vodka kept always chilled in the back of the fridge for just this occasion. \"Winter wheat, illegally imported. Just like us.\"\n\nIvan smiled and took the bottle almost hungrily. \"That is definitely welcome sight. What about your friends...will they talk?\"\n\n\"No, they're completely trustworthy. As for William, as luck would have it, he took tonight off. The anniversary of our deaths and all. So, I'll take you to his rooms, if you want to see him.\" Daniel led him right through the den area and, even if the other young men and women there stared a bit, none of them questioned his presence. They got a look at him and then went back to watching the movie, which was in the middle of another gruesome murder scene. The warehouse-made-home suited Ivan with its high ceilings and open floor plan. He made a mental note to call Rosa as soon as he was settled in and had a new identification. Then it occurred to him, what would he call himself? He'd have to choose a new name. What indeed?\n\n**Chapter 15**\n\n\"Nyet, you are attorney. Tell them they have wrong man. Tell them that big blonde fuck is murderer, not me!\" Dmitri slammed his fist on the table in frustration and the solicitor assigned his case recoiled slightly, though his eyes were on the interpreter to tell him what had been said. \"Why do you not want to listen to what I am trying to tell you? I did nothing wrong. They opened door and let me in apartment and then attacked me. I do not see how that is so hard to fucking understand.\"\n\n\"Well,\" the interpreter then translated, \"problem with your story is Mr. Sergeivich's story worked out to be more truthful. He had necessary papers, he had passport, and company he works for is apparently legit. Where-as you on other hand were...and are...in country illegally. No papers, no job, no explanation that makes sense as to why you are here.\"\n\n\"Bullshit. That company is front set up by our uncle, man who is head crime lord over all of Russia. He has resources and money like you cannot even imagine and he loves Ivan like second son.\" Dmitri said, fast reaching the pulling-out-hair stage and not entirely sure he cared whose hair he pulled out, as long as he got results.\n\n\"Hang on,\" the interpreter said, for the solicitor, \"Are you telling me that man was your brother?\"\n\n\"Da that is what I have been trying to tell everyone all along. Man with black hair on security tape is my full-brother and skinny blonde is Ivan's half-brother Aleksei Kruchev.\" Dmitri ran a frustrated hand over his eye.\n\n\"Even if,\" the solicitor said, via the interpreter, \"Even if we can get DNA proving that, it does not change other evidence, and Mr. Sergeivich provided us with tons of it.\"\n\n\"Then, what you are telling me is...I am fucked.\" Dmitri said, and while the solicitor did not answer, the interpreter did.\n\n\"Basically, da.\"\n\nThings had only gone from bad to worse when he'd appeared in court. Belligerent and angry, he had been found in contempt and given an additional thirty days in prison added to his stiff one year sentence for destruction of government property. After that, the judge informed him again via interpreter, he would be immediately deported to Russia. If he were to be caught in the country again illegally, he would be looking at five to ten years, minimum. When he glanced over his shoulder his mood only blackened that much more. Ivan was sitting in the back row of the public gallery, smirking at him. Dmitri attempted to charge him but was brought down easily as he was already shackled. Hence, the contempt charge.\n\nNow, as he rode in the armored transport to Dover, England, home of the only maximum security Immigration Removal Centre for criminal offenders in the country illegally, he stared out at the bleak landscape. He understood their need to make an example, but inside it still galled him that Ivan had once more gotten the best of him. He almost began to wonder if his determination to kill Yuri was wrong, but then let the thought go; how could it be so wrong, wanting his brother dead, when it felt so right? He longed for a woman to keep him company in the next few months, the solicitor had said he'd probably be paroled and sent back to Russia long before his term expired. So long as he held his temper in check and was a model inmate.\n\nInmate. Never in his life had he imagined he would hold such a title, but a glance down at his drab gray prison coverall with an identification number printed on the upper left of the chest, he knew it was all too real. He shifted slightly, rearranging his seat on the uncomfortably hard metal bench and his shackles clanked, making the guard look at him sternly. So, he remained almost completely unmoving the remainder of the long drive, his eyes on the filthy floor and his bare feet, on which he wore disgusting looking gray plastic slip on shower-shoes. At least in Russia the inmates were provided the appropriate measures to keep themselves warm in winter. He snorted, but inwardly, not daring to arouse the suspicions of the guards as to what he was thinking about.\n\nOne week after he arrived in Dover, he received an anonymous communication, he expected it had been sent by Ivan to torment him. A newspaper clipping, a car accident. He had to painstakingly slowly use the ancient inmate's computer in the library, there was no internet access, to decipher the English language. Finally, he discovered that both the fag and its fag lover had been killed in a car crash in Paris. Furious, he ripped the clipping to shreds. How was he supposed to kill what had tormented him for so long when the source of it all was already dead? It was that very same night the nightmares returned, and he began a spiral into an even darker place than he had already been.\n\n**Chapter 16**\n\nIvan followed Daniel up the large, wrought-iron staircase at the back of the large warehouse, winding up three floors until they stopped at a door and Daniel knocked. When the lock clicked, he stepped inside followed by Ivan and Aleksei promptly dropped the book he'd been reading, in shock, then beamed up at his younger, but much larger, brother. \"Ivan!\"\n\n\"I'll leave you two to catch up...I have guests.\" Daniel bowed out graciously and descended to the open living area once more. Ivan closed the door softly and then took a seat in the chair opposite Aleksei, or rather, William. He would have to remind himself constantly about those names, so that he did not inadvertently blow their cover. Not that he'd be doing much talking to anyone on the street, but one never knew who they could trust.\n\n\"What in hell has happened to him?\" Ivan asked, motioning towards the door and the direction Daniel had gone. \"He...I did not even recognize him! He had to show me his tattoos...on his back. That was really stupid idea...even if his face cannot be identified...\"\n\nAll through this short rant William was watching him with interest, a slight smile on his lips. When Ivan had exhausted his complaints, he spoke in his soft, easy manner. \"He's alive and safe, and what's more, he's made real honest-to-goodness friends. People he can depend on if something were to happen to me...or you.\" Ivan took a drink of the winter wheat vodka and grunted appreciatively, bringing another smile to William's face. \"I assume you saw his girlfriend?\"\n\n\"Da, I was going to ask. How did he figure out...?\" Ivan lowered the bottle and listened intently.\n\n\"He met her among the club culture, the 'Goths' as they call themselves. At first, I don't think he recognized that he was attracted to her. When he did, he started asking her over nights when I was working.\" William shrugged, then poured himself another glass of wine from the bottle sitting by him on the table. \"I knew he got lonely at night, so I was okay with it, and I still am. I love him, Ivan. I would sacrifice my beating heart for him. And now it's time for you to answer a question or two. Starting with: If you're here, then he must be out, am I correct in that assumption?\"\n\n\"Da, he was released and deported about one week ago. I have been monitoring him both on inside of Immigrant prison and outside. They had promised him early release if he could behave and be model inmate, I never understood that concept, but he could not. He has started to decline into something darker than I ever knew. When I saw him...I was shocked. He has lost so much weight and his hair...his hair has started to go gray. Also, he was not wearing his eye-patch anymore, though I do not know if that is permanent.\"\n\n\"So you think he still means to hunt us down?\" William asked, he sipped his wine and Ivan noticed his hand was trembling.\n\n\"Nyet, I do not. My contact inside said that he received newspaper clipping reporting 'their' deaths in car accident. Very convincing, you should know, for time I believed it myself, to be honest.\" Ivan shrugged. \"Apparently whatever it is that is eating Dmitri...now it cannot be stopped because he did not succeed in his single mission in life.\"\n\n\"How did you find out we were still alive?\" William set the wine glass aside now and straightened in his seat. \"No one knows where we are...not even Rosa, though she does know we are still alive.\"\n\n\"Uncle Oleg told me in strict confidence when I was dining with him at his brothel one evening. Not so much that you were alive, but that someone was accessing my accounts...same accounts your money funneled into upon your deaths. He was quite intrigued, Oleg, but I assured him I was aware of activity.\" Ivan said, then turned up the bottle and finished it, then looked at the empty bottle mournfully. \"Ah, sweet taste of home. Shame you do not have more.\"\n\n\"Who says we don't?\" William smiled at him mischievously. \"We have whole wine cellar in sub-basement. It stays nice and cool down there, but tonight I want you to stay sober.\"\n\n\"I would like to spend more time with Daniel but he has guests. When will they be leaving?\" Ivan asked, standing and looking out at the thick, fast falling snow.\n\n\"They won't leave tonight, it's his turn to host. Tomorrow night they'll all crash at someone else's place, but Daniel always stays here. He...has Crystal to keep him warm.\" He saw a wicked light in Ivan's eye and looked at him, puzzled. \"What?\"\n\n\"What do they do down there, have orgy or something?\" Ivan asked, looking more interested now that the vodka was doing its work.\n\n\"No, nothing like that, though they will all sleep close to each other. Only the couple whose house they are staying at for the night will not be joining the pile, as they call it.\" William smiled. \"I must admit I was a bit disappointed, I had hoped to have this evening with Daniel, seeing as it's our unofficial anniversary-slash-birthday.\"\n\nA soft knock startled them both and Ivan looked up as Daniel came in, leading Crystal. \"This is my brother, Crystal. He didn't mean to startle you, his name is...Kirill.\"\n\n\"Kirill...it means conqueror. Whoever chose that name for you couldn't have hit the nail on the head harder.\" She offered her hand and glimpsed tattoos running up under the sleeves of her almost see-thru black shirt. One of them, a brilliant blue tropical flower, was pleasing to his eyes, for some reason. \"I'm doing Russian studies at the University, just a little something to kill time when I'm not working.\"\n\n\"And...where do you work?\" Ivan asked, finding himself transfixed by her unusual eyes. It was a long moment before he realized that she was actually wearing contact lenses to make her eyes that unusual iridescent green.\n\n\"I'm in banking, if you can believe it. This is just how I dress at night...kind of a Superman sort of thing. My employers have no clue...and I'd like to keep it that way.\" She added, edgily.\n\n\"I am not planning on telling anyone your secret, you can trust that.\" Ivan said, and she eyed him hard before finally nodding as if she had accepted him.\n\n\"We're off to bed, Will. I'll see you in the morning.\" Daniel said, then bent and kissed him gently on the mouth. Ivan watched for any sign of jealousy in the woman, but found none much to his surprise. \"Kirill, I will see you in the morning, too.\"\n\n\"Da.\" Ivan said, then nodded to them as they departed. \"What a weird living situation. Does she not get jealous...do you not?\"\n\n\"No, Ivan. He has been through enough in his life without my making it any more difficult. I have had a long talk with the woman, and she understands enough to know that any show of jealousy could cost her the job, and the man, she so loves.\" William sighed. \"I think I am ready to turn in. I'll show you to the spare bedroom, has Daniel given you her number?\"\n\n\"Da, I think I will call her.\"\n\n\"I think you should.\"\n\n**Chapter 17**\n\nDmitri sat up in the snowy alley and coughed until he spit out a mouthful of blood, then settled back down, shivering, sweat freezing on his face in the cold. He didn't know if it was tuberculosis or just pneumonia, what he did know was that it was killing him. For two weeks he'd been a free man and he hadn't been able to search up one shred of evidence on where Ivan might be hiding himself. Not that he really had the monetary resources that were supposed to be available to him.\n\nHis bank accounts had been frozen and he hadn't been able to make contact with any of the family attorneys, none of them seemed particularly interested in meeting with him. Believing him dead, most had turned their backs on what they considered to be an obvious scheme to defraud the sons of a long dead but still well-liked diplomat. So, here he was, homeless on the streets of Moscow, just a short distance from the home that should have been open to him. Now it was locked up tight, all of the servants dismissed or dispersed, and he knew he had Ivan to thank for that. The only place left he might have been welcome. Maybe less than welcome, but it would have still been a roof and a warm hearth.\n\nHe checked the clock on Spasskaya Tower which even after the bombings, still looked over Red Square, which had also survived, amazingly with very little damage. It was coming up on eight in the morning, but the sun would not rise for another two hours. Russia still, after over a century, refused to acknowledge daylight saving time. Personally, he couldn't care less, the more darkness, in his opinion, the better. It allowed the rest of the world to walk in his shoes, that darkness, because it was all he saw, even on the brightest of sunny summer days.\n\nDragging himself up, and enduring another bout of coughing up bloody froth, he staggered towards the financial district, intent on making someone, anyone, listen. Stumbling across the street he was nearly mowed down by a long black limousine bearing the flags of a high-ranking religious figure. The car slammed on brakes so hard on the ice that it actually skidded to a halt. He slid his hand inside his coat, fingers on the pistol concealed there, ready for any eventuality when the back door of the car popped open.\n\n\"Dmitri? Dmitri Sergeivich?\" He knew the friendly, concerned face as soon as he saw it and a blissful smile of relief spread across his own face just before he collapsed. He fell hard onto the icy pavement, completely unconscious and was nearly run over by an oncoming car that had to swerve dangerously to miss him.\n\nA cool washcloth being applied to his forehead woke him with a start. The sudden movement of his body was immediately followed by a vicious bout of coughing. Firm but gentle hands held him down, pressing on his shoulders to prevent him moving any more than necessary. He could not tell by the touch if it was a man or woman, and his nose was so blocked up he could not catch a scent. Not opening his eye just yet, instead he turned his head to spit but he was just too weak. He felt the bloody mess drip from the corner of his mouth before a cloth wiped it away, gently.\n\n\"There, my son. That is right. You were hours from death when I found you, da?\" The gentle hands swept the cloth from his brow and he heard whisper soft feet leave the room. Opening his eye he caught a glimpse of a young Orthodox nun glancing back at him before she disappeared into the corridor, closing the door softly behind her. \"How did son of Sergei Korzhakov come to be in such bad way, hm?\"\n\n\"I...I...Ivan...he...he tricked me...prison...prison in England...now...nothing...\" Dmitri managed, but the effort set him coughing again as the Orthodox priest laid a sympathetic hand on his. \"Took...everything...\"\n\n\"That is not true, my son. I have checked with attorneys...you were raving when you were unconscious...I could not believe you had been left so destitute. Your brother Ivan took no more than was his share. I must say...I am sorry for loss of your younger brother. Yuri was sweet boy with good heart.\" The priest sighed, then looked troubled and Dmitri, seeing this, pounced.\n\n\"What? You mention Yuri and then you have look like you are upset. Why does mention of Yuri upset you?\" Dmitri looked up as the same nun returned carrying a tray of food, her cheeks reddened as he looked at her and gave her a half-hearted smile that looked more like a sneer, to her eyes, though she did not react.\n\n\"Is nothing, I just cannot help wondering about way they died. It almost seems like was not accident at all. More like was...on purpose, you know?\" the priest stood as a bell began to toll somewhere. \"I must go. You are always welcome in His house, so long as you follow His rules.\"\n\n\"Thank you, father.\" Dmitri took the tray from the nun and then watched her on her way, wondering if he could get her to break that damnable vow of celibacy, just for him. He was willing to bet she was a virgin, and claiming her innocence would definitely lift his spirits considerably. She glanced back at the door and he winked with his one eye, making her giggle before she disappeared. Damn. He definitely had a chance, now to figure out how to swing it so the good priest never found out. The fact that he was in an Orthodox monastery wasn't enough to dissuade his drive, but no, on the contrary, it made it all the more exciting to him.\n\n**Chapter 18**\n\n\"I was beginning to think you would never call me...\" Rosa said, staring up at Ivan, who was standing at the door looking more than a little shocked. He had only been in America a few days and hadn't worked up the nerve to call her. \"But then, I get this phone call in the wee hours of the morning from...from Daniel saying you returned...or showed up...or...\" she didn't get another word out before Ivan swept her up and threw her over his shoulder. \" _Oof_ ...Ivan! What _are_ you doing?\"\n\n\"Is Kirill now, and I am not wasting any more time.\" He said, carrying her straight up to his room, which was sparsely decorated as he'd only been there for less than a week. Already he had plans for its decoration, and the woman on his shoulder was one of the prime fixtures, he hoped. \"You are not...\"\n\n\"A first timer? No, why...\" She glanced down and then back up, her cheeks reddening. \"Oh...\"\n\n\"I am, how you say...proportionate?\" He smirked and that wild streak in her seemed to return, her hand flying to the buttons on his plaid flannel shirt. Daniel had already teased him unmercifully for looking so out of place, insisting that they go shopping as soon as the snow let up some. He stood very still, though he was quivering with excitement, the beast in him wanted to claim this woman, had wanted to since the first time he'd seen her. When she flung open the shirt to admire his perfect, rippling musculature, her fingers found seven different circle-shaped scars.\n\n\"What...were you shot?\" She asked, looking up at him in awe. \"How...when? That one...\" she touched one directly over his heart. \"That one...we're taught in emergency medicine that people just don't survive a bullet wound there...\"\n\n\"Da, and they do not survive them here, either.\" He turned and lifted his hair, displaying a particularly nasty scar on the back of his neck. \"And yet, I am still here. Most people believed I was genetically engineered super-soldier, but I am just normal man.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" She looked down at his obvious, interest, and then back up, \"I'd say you're anything but normal.\"\n\n\"What makes you say that?\" He asked, smiling because he already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it. It really had been too long since he'd had his ego stroked.\n\n\"I don't think I've ever seen one, though honestly I haven't seen many, that frightened me.\" She said and he laughed outright at that, though his expression immediately became serious.\n\n\"Never fear me, Rosa. Ever.\" He picked her up as easily as if she weighed no more than a feather, and carried her right to the bed, not even stopping to lock the bedroom door. Who would be stupid enough to walk in on them, first, and second, did he really care if any one did?\n\nThey were in the room for four days before anyone actually laid eyes on either of them, and then it was Ivan, stumbling downstairs to the smell of breakfast and the sounds of conversation. Daniel and William were having breakfast and the older lady who cooked for them looked up at Ivan and gave a startled squawk.\n\n\"Oh, Mrs. Henreich, this is our brother Kirill. We shared a mother; he and Daniel shared a father, I'm sorry, I hadn't expected him to come stumbling in.\"\n\n\"Well, you'll be wanting breakfast here or in your room?\" She asked, pleasantly.\n\n\"I will be needing food for two, I will take it back upstairs.\" He said and if this seemed unusual to her, she said nothing, just scurried about her business.\n\n\"She's still alive after four days? I'm impressed.\" Daniel said, between bites of fried egg. \"I guess she's more hard-wearing than she looks. Of course, I haven't seen her yet so for all I know...\"\n\n\"Rosa is fine, thank you.\" Ivan snapped, then relaxed. \"We are getting married.\"\n\nWilliam nearly spit his own food out at this, and started coughing hard for a moment before getting himself under control. \"What?! How the hell did that happen? What did you have to threaten her with, death?\"\n\n\"You think you are so funny. As matter of fact, smart ass, she asked me.\" Ivan said, then accepted the food the kitchen lady brought him, then watched her until she had disappeared into another room.\n\n\"That's the truth of it then. You've fucked the brains right out of her.\" Daniel said and William rolled his eyes.\n\n\"Always so delicate, Danny-boy.\" He said, then gave Daniel a pat on the cheek, gently.\n\n\"Don't call me 'Danny-boy' you know I don't like it.\" Daniel said, though his tone was not angry.\n\n\"Then don't be so rude.\" William countered, immediately.\n\n\"I'm taking this up before Rosa eats the pillows. We will be down later.\" Ivan departed, carrying the silver service trays easily balanced on one of his muscular arms.\n\n**Chapter 19**\n\nDmitri cupped his hands together and blew into the space between his palms in an effort to warm up, his eye never leaving the warehouse across the street from the alley in which he had concealed himself. He'd been in America for three weeks now, just watching and waiting for someone he recognized to leave the enormous building, which according to the records had been renovated as a living space. It had come onto his radar screen as soon as he was well and able to travel once more, his fortune restored thanks to the efforts of the priest who had saved him and, later, one of his father's closest friends, who identified Dmitri. For a price, of course.\n\nPeople were always coming and going from the building, most of them appeared to be around Yuri's age or younger, but never did he actually set eyes on any of the three he sought. Or the woman, and he would have thought she would be with them since she'd gone from Spain shortly before he had found the location of her parents' summer home. Who could have known that the northern parts of the American Midwest were so much like Russia in winter? A movement to his left just caught his attention and he turned, though only slightly, to see a well-dressed older man approaching him carrying what looked like a cup of something hot.\n\n\"You can't be sleeping out here in the cold, son. I run a rescue mission just a block down, come down tonight and we'll have a bed open for you.\" The man said, holding out the cup, which Dmitri took, then looked down at it, suspiciously. \"My wife saw you sitting out here watching that house there...they'll end up calling the cops you know, you can't just sit and stare at someone's house...\"\n\n\"My brothers live there.\" Dmitri said, hating how thick his accent was. \"I am just trying to make...contact with them.\"\n\n\"Then I suggest you go up and knock on the door.\" He sighed, heavily, then turned to look at the house himself. \"How many people are living there now? It's become a bit of a fallout shelter these days, people in and out as they see fit. It wasn't that way before.\"\n\n\"What does this mean? Before?\" Dmitri asked, not realizing how truly horrible his English was, not that he would have cared if he had.\n\n\"Oh, before the men who renovated it moved away about six weeks ago,\" the older man shrugged. \"Just...gave us a huge donation and left town. Just like that. No explanations. My wife worked for them, you know. Funny ones they were. The younger two men of the three were lovers, I think she said, though they never made a big deal out of it. The other one...I had to see him for myself, I couldn't believe anyone could be so tall...it still doesn't seem possible and I witnessed it. I'm telling you, he must have been over eight feet tall!\"\n\n\"Seven feet, eleven inches.\" Dmitri spat out, bitterly. \"Let me guess, there was Spanish woman living with them, too?\"\n\n\"You really do know them,\" the man nodded. \"There have been a few before who claimed they knew them but none knew that much. The woman only came in about two weeks before they left, last I heard she was marrying that big fellow--kind of feel sorry for her, she's a tiny thing and any baby she has is likely to be a monster.\"\n\n\"He cannot...\" Dmitri started, then stopped himself and sighed. \"Did they say where they were going? Leave forwarding address maybe?\"\n\n\"No, you know, that's what's so funny about it. I was in my study one night, wrapping up the books for the month, and my wife comes in and hands me this whopper of a check with the word 'donation' in the memo line. I seen she was in tears and asked her what was wrong and she told me those two young men were leaving that very same night, they hadn't even warned her in advance so she could line up another job. Not that she needs to, they gave her enough money that, well, we're old farts, and we'll not have to work another day in our lives. Come to think of it, neither will our kids.\" The man motioned to him. \"Come back to the shelter, stay there for the night, you'll not catch a flight out in this weather. Not on any commercial airlines, anyway.\"\n\n\"I do not fly commercial, and I have hotel room in upscale district. My driver will take me there now. Thank you, and take this to someone who really needs it. I am Russian man, cold nights like these are nothing to me.\" He stood and handed the cup back. \"Thank you for your kindness towards myself and my brothers.\"\n\n\"Sure, anytime.\" The man made sure he was gone, then poured the drink onto the ground and walked away, whistling. Across the street he saw a lighter flicker in the high window, but only for a moment, then scratched his nose with a gloved hand as he continued on. He hoped he'd put the one-eyed man off the trail of these fine, upstanding supporters he was proud to call his friends. Though, he did wonder what in the world the Russian military would have in for three men and a woman who lived such excellent and innocent lives. He would never get the chance to ask, because in the morning when his wife reported to work in their kitchen, all she found were the very same checks he had told the man about the previous night.\n\n**Chapter 20**\n\nThe odd group of four traveled for many weeks before deciding to settle, at least for the time being because they couldn't stay put long anywhere, in a small village in Italy. Aleksei, using his alter-ego, rented out a rather pricey apartment and they soon moved all of their sparse belongings in. It was springtime, now, and Italy was just beautiful as they wandered about, enjoying themselves. If Yuri missed Crystal, his female partner in America, he said nothing of her, rather he clung all the tighter to Aleksei, who did not mind in the least.\n\nReturning from a short trip to Venice late one evening, Aleksei's mobile phone rang, which never happened unless it was bad news, and they all looked at each other, then the phone. It lay on the kitchen island around which they'd all been seated.\n\n\"No name, no number.\" Aleksei said, his English accent sounding odd even to him after he'd used an American accent for so long. \"Should I answer it?\"\n\nIvan grabbed the phone, frustrated, and answered. \"Da?\"\n\n\"Ivan?\" A familiar voice came across, distorted, but recognizable to Ivan anywhere.\n\n\"Uncle Oleg. Gods. I thought Dmitri might have got number somehow. Where is fucking bastard, anyway?\" Ivan asked, well aware the others would have liked him to put it on speaker, but hesitant to do so. Something told him this call was not going to be a pleasant one.\n\n\"Back in Moscow at this moment. Seems you gave him slip, it took him two weeks to figure out you had gone from America. He was extremely pissed off, violently remodeled your papa's old office, or so my man on inside says--and I trust him.\" Oleg chuckled, but then his tone became serious and he explained to Ivan exactly why he had called.\n\n\"He...he did not...he would not...Oleg, are you absolutely certain of this?\" Ivan was clutching Aleksei's delicate smartphone so hard now that the screen had shattered.\n\n\"That is what I am telling you, boy. My contact with military adjutant is absolutely positive. Yuri's torture and...other things...it all leads back to Dmitri. He was pimping his own brother...and making small fortune doing it.\" Oleg said, adamantly, but then his tone softened. \"Now you must tell me, what can I do to help protect boy? I may not agree with his lifestyle but I like blood traitors even less.\"\n\n\"I...I cannot discuss this with you now, uncle. I will be in touch.\" Ivan placed the ruined phone on the countertop, seemingly unaware of the three sets of eyes watching him, nervously. He was clearly shaken, his face gone as pale as death when he glimpsed his reflection in a decorative mirror on the wall. Seeing Ivan that way was unsettling to them all, but Yuri was the most upset, already he had tears in his eyes, as if he knew whatever Ivan had learned was terrible.\n\n\"Ivan...\"Rosa began but he did not look at her, instead he turned to Aleksei.\n\n\"Tell her, Aleksei. It is time she knows everything.\" With that, he turned and left, Yuri hot on his heels, though he didn't speak until they were outside. \"Not now, Yuri.\"\n\n\"Yes now, Ivan.\" Yuri immediately countered. \"Whatever it is, I'll find out soon enough. Better to get it out in the open so we can deal with it.\"\n\n\"I am afraid you will relapse if I tell you...is about your time in Army...\" Ivan said and Yuri immediately sat, fortunately there was a stone bench behind him, it was as if the strength had gone right out of his legs. \"I cannot do this...not like this...not here...Aleksei needs to hear. Let him tell Rosa...and then I will tell everyone.\" But first, he knew, he would have to talk to Aleksei so he was the wiser to what was about to happen. Ten minutes passed and Yuri lit a cigarette, a disgusting habit he'd picked up in America, but for once Ivan did not scold him. In truth, by the fifteen minute mark he was beginning to think he'd need one himself. Finally, a half-hour later, Rosa came barreling out of the kitchen and threw her arms around Yuri, who looked at Ivan, bemusedly.\n\n\"Now, everyone back inside. I need to tell you what I have just found out.\" Ivan said, herding both of them back into the apartment and literally half-dragging Aleksei into the den. He got everyone seated, and then launched into what Oleg had just told him, watching Yuri closely, as was everyone else, as he explained. When he had finished, the room was deathly quiet for a long moment and to Ivan it seemed the whole world was holding its breath. Then suddenly, Yuri bolted from the room and up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Aleksei went too, not fast enough to catch him but they could hear the soft murmuring of his voice, pleading with Yuri to open the door.\n\nIvan sat down heavily on the couch and hid his face in his hands, loving the feel of Rosa's comforting warmth when she sat beside him and pulled him over so his head was in her lap. He knew the tears were coming before it happened. He, who had never cried in his life, other than the night his papa died and that was to be expected, now actually sobbed as she stroked his hair and talked in the same soft murmurs Aleksei was directing at Yuri. Eventually a sense of peace came over him, and he drifted off to sleep, his tears as exhausted as the rest of him.\n\nFor two days Yuri refused to come out of the bedroom he shared with Aleksei. He did not eat or shower or sleep, nor did they hear him make any sound other than incessant pacing of his feet on the soft carpeting. Ivan, Aleksei and Rosa were sitting in the courtyard garden, private to their apartment late into the third night when a sudden tapping above their heads drew their attention up. Yuri was motioning to Aleksei, and immediately the heartsick blonde was on his feet.\n\n\"Aleksei...be careful. You do not know him as he was, you did not see him at his worst as I did. I had to beat him into submission, he attacked me, even. You are significantly less...\" Ivan seemed at a loss here, not wanting to hurt Aleksei's feelings.\n\n\"Intimidating? Enormous?\" Aleksei looked relieved to have been summoned, foolishly so, as if he thought the worst were over and now all would be as it had been. \"I'll be fine, Ivan. Don't worry.\" With that, before Ivan could protest, he turned and half-ran into the apartment.\n\n\"But I do worry. This is going to get ugly, Rosa.\" Ivan muttered and felt her comforting hand on his shoulder. \"Let's go to bed. I am tired, and I suspect we will not be seeing much sleep tonight.\"\n\nHis words could not have come truer if he had been an honest to goodness clairvoyant.\n\n**Chapter 21**\n\nAleksei lay still and sleepy, but his dark purple eyes were open, watching Yuri as he twitched and occasionally snarled in his sleep, just as dogs sometimes do. He wondered what his beloved was dreaming, but the realization that it was probably something horrible frightened him. He had just begun to relax, to doze, when Yuri suddenly sat bolt upright in the bed, a startled cry escaping him. He was licking his left hand like mad, like a dog with a wounded paw, and after watching for a moment, Aleksei sat up slowly in the bed. Seeking only to comfort him, Aleksei placed a hand on Yuri's shoulder, gently, but instead of lying back down and snuggling in, Yuri's head whipped around and he bit into Aleksei's hand. The bite was hard, his healthy, strong teeth cracked bones and, when Aleksei recoiled, tearing away a horribly large piece of skin.\n\nStunned, shocked, but not completely witless, Aleksei screamed at the top of his lungs for Ivan, then backed away. He was unmindful of the fact he was naked other than the bed sheet, which was fast becoming crimson with the amount of blood pouring from the wound, but in his terror that was the least of his worries. Yuri, scenting blood, turned now and crept down off of the bed, moving like an animal rather than a man, his tongue touching some of the fresh blood on the floor. When his eyes met Aleksei's, the doctor could see that the Yuri he had known had receded, releasing something entirely different. Something not at all human.\n\nIvan burst in through the door at that instant and Yuri immediately turned, but not to Ivan, instead his eyes landed on Rosa, who was hovering outside the door, behind the blonde giant. Paying no heed to Ivan, Yuri made an enormous bound, trying to clear his half-brother, and he might have done if Ivan hadn't been quicker on the draw than he expected. Catching Yuri, he slammed him hard on the floor, winding him, as Rosa hurried in to see to Aleksei, also unmindful of his being naked. None of that mattered now, she went into emergency-room doctor mode, wrapping the hand, trying to lead him away.\n\n\"No, no I can't leave him...he...he needs me.\" Aleksei protested, and Rosa did something that startled Ivan and further enraged Yuri. She slapped him, a very stiff slap, right across face. \"What the hell, Rosa?\"\n\n\"Look at your hand, Alex, you'll lose it if I don't get that skin sewed back in place and now. If I even can in these conditions. I only have limited supplies.\" She said, and he finally acquiesced, allowing her to lead him from the room, the bloody sheet in his hand, feeling strange walking naked next to a woman, though he did not comment or complain. In the room, Yuri began to howl and Aleksei hesitated but Rosa pulled him on, patient but firm. \"Come, Alex.\"\n\nIvan placed his hand over Yuri's mouth to stifle the wailing cries and received the dagger-sharp sensation of Yuri's teeth digging right into the flesh of his hand for his trouble. Unlike Aleksei, though, Ivan did not back away or try to pull his hand out. He knew all too well how strong Yuri's jaws were, and suspected correctly that Aleksei had done at least part of the damage himself when he'd ripped his hand free. Still, Yuri was not to be blamed, he was in a dark place and Ivan murmured to him softly as the blood ran up is arm, pooling on the carpet. Even when he felt faint from the blood-loss, he did not waiver in his soft words.\n\nSometime during the night, Ivan felt gentle hands on him, shaking him, but he did not know by then where he was or even who he was. He heard a woman's voice, something about blood-loss and even death, but the words meant nothing about him, how could they? Certainly, he told himself, they were talking about someone else. So, when he felt the floor moving under him, saw the flashing of red and white lights and heard the sirens, he thought it was all a dream and embraced the darkness, thinking the dream would fade now and just let him sleep.\n\nOne week passed before the Italian hospital would release Ivan, he had to pass quarantine after such a terrible dog-bite. The head constable over the police in their district came round that same day to tell him they had regrettably not captured the dog, though there had been sightings. Sightings Ivan knew had been strategically planted by word of mouth by Aleksei and Rosa. He had not seen Yuri, nor had he asked after him, and so he was surprised when one evening Yuri came into the bedroom looking as if nothing happened and sat down on the bed. Rosa and Aleksei were following him, both looking more than a little apprehensive, likely fearing Ivan would seek retribution. He had almost died, and it had been Yuri who had caused it.\n\n\"I...I'm sorry for...for all this.\" Yuri said, placing a hand on Ivan's arm, just above the bandages. \"If...if you hate me...\"\n\n\"Nyet, Yuri. I hate Dmitri. I love you. You and Aleksei are only family I have left.\" Ivan said, then reached up with his uninjured hand to ruffle Yuri's hair, gently. \"What happened that night, Yuri? What caused to you to...relapse I think is word?\"\n\n\"If you have the time...I'd like to tell you.\" Yuri said, scooting up beside Ivan on his uninjured side, leaning against the headboard. Rosa situated herself on the other side and Aleksei wormed in on Yuri's other side. \"If the bed doesn't break....\" He added and they all laughed, though it was more out of a release of tension than humor.\n\n**Chapter 22**\n\nI was so excited, finally to be free of Russia's strict anti-homosexuality bullshit. Papa had arranged for me to leave that day, to go into London and live with Aleksei. I was to attend University there, where it was more commonplace to, well, live our way. Papa was out of town, which he's told you I'm sure, but he had already told me what time the car would be ready to take me to the airport and on to freedom. So, when the knock came thirty minutes early, I was so excited I ran all the way down from my rooms to the front door. I even beat the butler to the door! But when I opened the door, it wasn't the car to freedom, it was Dmitri and he looked nasty. I mean, he was impeccable in his uniform but he looked, evil. I tried to slam the door, but of course he is much stronger than I, so he simply pushed me back and I kind of tripped over that stupid rug the butler insisted on having and fell.\n\nIn that instant he was on me, and he gave me the beating of a lifetime, or so I thought. Little did I know it would be the first of many to come. I managed to break away from him and flee to papa's office, not that it did me any good. The soldiers came then and dragged me out, but not before allowing Dmitri to come at me again, so this time, I did the only thing I could think of because I really believed he intended to kill me. I stuck my fingers in his right eye hard enough I felt the actual eyeball rupture. Well, naturally, he went down, roaring with pain, blood and eye-fluid everywhere, and the soldiers, it took four of them, dragged me out as papa was coming in. Papa pleaded with them to let me go but they just brushed him out of the way and carried me out to the waiting panel truck. My training began as soon as I was in that truck.\n\nThere were two men in the back, big burly bastards, not as big as you, Ivan, more like Dmitri's size, and they were the biggest pair of bull queers I've ever met. The things they did to me I will not mention in Rosa's presence, because one it is too crude and two, I really don't think it's necessary. Suffice it to say, I was bleeding, profusely, by the time we reached the camp. My clothing was taken and I was given, instead, a sort of loincloth made of dog-pelts and ordered to wear it. Then, they put me in a concrete holding cell and left me there in the dark, cold and damp. I had never been so terrified, so confused, so miserable in all of my life. In the first days, I made mental excuses for Dmitri, that he'd only been trying to help out the Army or that somehow he'd been forced into turning me over.\n\nBut as the days passed and the punishment, and rape, worsened, and no one came for me, no one even seemed to know that Dmitri had been my brother, I began to understand. Not only had he done this, Dmitri, he had done this intentionally, he had known damn well what they were planning to do to me. So, I did what I had to do to survive. If I wanted to eat, I had to be a 'good dog' and do my duties well. I had to obey my master, the man who...whose throat I ripped out. He was the one who abused me the most, at first, sometimes five or six times a day I would get a visit from him for some sort of favor or other. When he was satisfied I was safe enough, he started letting me out to others, for a price.\n\nBut then, he discovered what a savage fighter I could be, and had a new idea, something very different he could do with me. He started challenging other camps, fights to the death, 'dog' fights. I was crowned champion before long, as I had killed all of the other fighters in the ten camps in the area. Now, they decided, sexual preference or no, I would pass on my genes. I probably have children out there, somewhere, a thought that haunts me every day. Virgin women were brought in from the female training camps, verified medically. None of them wanted to 'mate' but I certainly had no problem. By that time I was just an animal, and I responded to what nature intended me to do.\n\nThe entire mating was a show for all of the camp, the poor female would be tied in stocks, bent over, unable to move or to even lay eyes on me. Sometimes they were blindfolded, but most often they were facing the audience of hooting, crude comment making, and horny soldiers. As I said, it was all a big production, so I was brought in with a bit between my teeth, a man on each side of me, long reins as you might see on a horse, to control me. Not that I needed controlling, no, I knew my purpose and knew it well. They had tried a missionary mating once, but I nearly ripped the poor woman's breast off, and I would guess she bled to death because they dragged me away before I could finish and she wasn't moving. I was beaten so badly that night, I could barely move for days. Still the rape came, more than ever, set up I imagine by my 'master'.\n\nAfter that I was allowed to rape these women, to receive the sacrifice of their innocence in the name of breeding more 'pups' like myself. At that time I did not understand...but in retrospect I understand perfectly. Someone was getting paid for my 'stud' services, and now I think we all know who, thanks to Oleg. So, it was that I was dreaming about, a breeding. Well, no, call it what it is, a rape one night, a lovely young woman who couldn't have been but around twenty. When I'd finished, I was being bathed by two of my handlers, men who were, if you can imagine their pain, lower on the totem pole than even I was. Sometimes I can remember my master making them perform oral sex on me when I was overly excited. Forcing them to do it with a whip in one hand and gun in the other.\n\nSuddenly, I was untied from the cross-ties, and forced to kneeling as someone approached, a giant of a man wearing an eye-patch. I thought he'd come for the obvious and shuddered at sight of him, for compared to the men I was accustomed to, he was enormous. I assume that now you are noticing I am rubbing my left hand, as if it pains me, and it still does, but when this memory returned, I finally could recall how it was injured. I had locked it away inside, deep inside. The phone call from Oleg brought it all back. I did not look up at him, so he kicked me. Still I did not look up, I only cowered, as I'd been taught I had better do. My master was there, and he ordered me to look up at my owner. Owner? I had always thought my master was my owner, too. I looked up into the oddly familiar face, and something about the eye-patch wanted to jog my memory, but the feral beast in me wouldn't let it. Self-preservation, I suppose.\n\nBut I do remember, now, everything he said to me that night, as he stood over me in the freezing cold, the water from my bath drying or freezing on my flesh. There were no warm, soft towels to dry me that night, no hot mush to warm my stomach as reward for my good performance. No, tonight there was only this man who claimed to own me and his cruel words and actions. He nodded a dismissal to my master and the two attendants, and I noticed then a riding crop on his belt with little metal studs in it, clearly he was an experienced handler and I was terrified of him from that moment on.\n\nHe grabbed my collar and yanked me to my feet so hard it sprained my neck, an injury that still pains me to this day, though I rarely complain about it. \"Do you know who I am?\"\n\nI already knew better than to look at him a second time, I knew the consequences. He waited for a time and then he eventually released me back to my position on the ground, where I waited for whatever abuse was bound to come. Instead, he threw down some color photographs at my...in front of me. Even now, I wanted to say 'feet' instead of 'hands' as a normal human would. I looked at the pictures, a smiling young man with clean, shoulder-length black hair. In some I saw you, Ivan, others I saw the man before me now, the man who claimed to own me. Still, I could not put into words who the young man was, and I stared at him, straining my mind, trying to please my owner. When I had not answered for some time, he finally spat the answer out at me, but directly, instead he did so indirectly which I suspect was his plan all along.\n\n\"His name, stupid mutt, is Yuri, and he is...was my brother.\" He said, and for a moment I was still drawing a blank, but then it began to come to me.\n\n\"Y...Y...Yuri.\" I managed to say, only just hearing the whip he swung at my face in time to move enough it missed my right eye, catching me instead on the cheek hard enough it sent me rolling.\n\n\"You do not get to say his name. You do not know him, though you did once.\" He was crouching in front of me now, his hand stroking my matted hair back from my face, which was bleeding from the impact of the studded whip. It is only because of my master's diligent care I do not have a permanent scar, for only that I am grateful. \"You are him, dog, do you see? You are Yuri...or you were. Now you are nothing more than bitch and plaything to any and all. On my command. All because of me.\"\n\nHe stood and I reached a hand out to a picture of this young man who was supposed to have been me, a picture of me and our papa. Before my hand could touch it, he put his heavy booted foot down on it hard, so that I felt the bones cracking. Then, on that hard and stony ground, he stood on my hand, effectively, crushing it beneath his weight. The rest of that night passed in a haze of pain and terror. Never before had I taken such a beating, but I would take several from him after. Military denied his promotion? He would blame me, at least in part. Some disagreement with you Ivan, or with papa, he would blame me. Sometimes I think he just did it because he enjoyed it, because he liked the feeling of power. Because it secretly excited him in a way he would never admit.\n\nWhen the sun was coming up the next morning, my master returned and was shocked by what he saw, as I'm sure I would have been. There wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't bloody or bruised, not on my body or my face.\n\n\"Sir...I...he has fight in two days...let me call it off, sir.\" I heard my master say, though I was exhausted and only barely conscious. I felt the hands of the attendants on me, but I could not even manage to growl at them when they caused me more pain, though they were trying to help me rise, help me to move to my enclosure.\n\n\"Stop.\" I heard my owner say, and the men's hands immediately fell away. \"There will be no more of this coddling you show him. No attendants, no warm baths, no hot mash after fights or matings. No more matings unless I sanction them, but also no more relief given by any male. Only females should be allowed to relieve him, if I allow it at all. Do not worry, he can still be sold out, but buyers should be cautioned they are not to give him any pleasure in matter.\"\n\n\"But...sir...he will go mad...I will not be able to control him...\" I heard my master argue, as I lay in my own bloody mud on the hard ground, not daring to even breathe more than just enough to stay conscious and alert. \"What of his face, sir? I need to at least do some doctoring on it...and what of fight in two days?\"\n\n\"He will fight, as scheduled. There is nothing wrong with him to prevent it.\" My owner, who we now know was Dmitri, said tonelessly. \"I will be present. I will expect victory. If he fails to win, it will be you who wears collar next.\"\n\n\"Da, sir.\" My master said, and then I heard my owner leaving, his heavy boots, a sound I had come to fear and recognize, but then, he stopped and returned.\n\n\"And another thing, get him out of that cushy cell you keep him in. Old cistern will suit him, just chain him to wall and give him something to crawl under when rain or snow comes.\" That order, I thought, would be the death of me. Now he was departing, though I could not see him, my face had swollen so that I was effectively blind, and my master stood by me until a vehicle passed by, speeding out of the camp. Once he was gone, the attendants immediately helped me move back to my cell, but it was only a brief move, just long enough for my master to secure a place I might be tied out in the old cistern you found me in.\n\nAnd that is the story of what happened the night I learned the depths of the hatred Dmitri felt for me, and as I lay in the cold in my cistern, my wounds and bruises and broken bones throbbing with each beat of my heart, something in me died. I may have lived on, after that night, but it was not me. I let the animal in me come to the forefront and, to be honest, I have little memory of the rest of my time there until you came, Ivan.\n\nWhile I do remember Dmitri being there, mainly because his visits brought extended periods of extreme cruelty, I remember very little about his words after that initial visit. I had given myself up to death, I knew I was destined to die in that place, and had you not come for me, I don't believe it would have been much longer. I had lost so much weight I was losing the ability to fight effectively in the pits, so much so I had nearly died in a fight just days before you arrived. My next fight was to have been the following afternoon; and that probably would have been the end of me. I welcomed it, death, as would any of you, including you, Ivan, had you been through what I had.\n\n**Chapter 23**\n\nThe four sat quietly on the bed, but both Yuri and Rosa could feel Ivan quivering, and Yuri, who was more in touch with his own feral side, could smell the rage emanating from his very pores. \"I...am going to kill him.\" He managed to snarl out, between clenched teeth. Crimson was showing through the bandage on his badly-bitten hand, where he had most likely torn the stitches as his hand was clenched into a tight fist.\n\n\"No, you're going to stay here until...\" Rosa started but Ivan cut her off.\n\n\"Nyet!\" He bellowed, making all of them jump, Rosa fell off the bed but bounded up on her feet at once, backing away from him as he rose, not caring that he was barely dressed. \"I have had enough of running, enough of lies, enough of...everything. I am going to finish this. I will call him, I will summon him somewhere away from people and I will finish this thing between us. That is only way any of us will ever be safe.\"\n\n\"Ivan...\" Yuri started, hesitantly, recoiling slightly against the comforting warmth of Aleksei, who was now sitting behind him when Ivan turned to him, almost angrily. \"I know your thirst for revenge--if any of us does, I do. But Ivan...you are not well yet. Let your wound heal and then let us go and find him together. I want to end this by your side, I don't want to send you alone to fight my battles.\"\n\n\"But, you do not know...I have not told you,\" Ivan said, sitting back down and permitting Rosa to look at his hand. \"He is not after you, for moment, he is after me. He is angry because I keep pulling one over on him at every turn and then teasing him about it. I had not realized, of course, how deep this went or I would have killed him when I had chance.\"\n\n**Chapter 24**\n\nCrystal hurried up the stairs of her reasonably upscale apartment building, her mind on the evening's activities with friends and then her goodnight call to Daniel. That's all she tried to think about these days, since Daniel had moved, she had been told, to California. She hoped to visit him one day, and he said it might be possible when they were more settled in, but for now there were still renovations to do on their new home and the like. Never once did she ever imagine his story to be untrue, but of course, it was as untrue as a story could be, no matter how much he had disliked telling the untruth, it had been necessary both for them and for Crystal.\n\nShe knew something was wrong the moment she opened the door and stepped into the small entryway. The light was out, a light she never turned off, not even during daylight hours. At first, she thought, one of her friends might have done it when they left during the day, but then shook that thought at once. If they'd never done it before, they weren't likely to start. Tossing her keys down on the table by the door, visible from the lights in the hallway, she sighed. After she closed the door she slid her hand across the smooth, painted surface of the wall, feeling for the light switch she knew was there. When she found it, she froze, because there was another hand, an enormous, rough hand, on it, and for an instant paused, shocked. Giving a frightened squeak, she withdrew her hand and reached again for the door, but a second hand caught her around the throat and lifted her, pinning her against the very means of her escape, blocking it.\n\n\"You are person who was dating my brother?\" He asked, in the complete darkness, his voice was deep and his accent familiar from all the time she had spent talking to Daniel's giant of a brother. She'd been fascinated with him, as she was fascinated with all Russian culture, but this somehow didn't fit into her view of the blonde haired man she'd known.\n\n\"Kirill?! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!\" She manage to choke out, despite the pressure on her throat. He only squeezed tighter, silencing her other than the raspy sound of her attempting to draw breaths around his hand.\n\n\"Ha, that is his middle name, real name is Ivan. Or rather, name he goes by. You just answered my question, _spassibo_.\" He said and then released her neck and allowed her to drop back to her feet only to scoop her up over his shoulder. \"Let us go have talk about my brothers, shall we?\"\n\n\"No, I'd rather not. Just...put me down. I don't even know who you are.\" Crystal tried to struggle but he brought his hand painfully down on her thigh which was, other than the nylons she wore for work, bare, thanks to the skirt she had also worn having ridden up slightly. He did not place her on the couch, rather, he sat her heavily on a wooden chair. Just how he could see it she had no clue because the lights were out and since the sun had gone down now, it was completely dark in her den-slash-dining room. When her butt hit the chair she knew it was one of the chairs from the dining room set, but that was all she could discern. That and the positive reek of alcohol on him, and body odor. He smelled as if he'd not seen a shower in a very long time.\n\n\"Has been two weeks, in fact.\" He commented and she cocked her head to one side. \"Since I had shower. You were sniffing me. And if I am little bit drunk, well, I am Russian. What do you expect?\"\n\nHe was working behind her with something and she was shivering, \"Did...did you turn my heat off?\"\n\n\"Nyet, I had to break bedroom window to get in; this building is quite secure. Do not worry, will not matter soon. I am going to keep you plenty warm.\" He said and she felt something close around her left wrist. If only she could see she'd run! But in the dark, she couldn't tell one direction from the other, she wasn't even sure which way she was facing at this point. When her hands were bound, he covered her nose roughly with his hand, forcing her to breathe through her mouth. Though she resisted, it was inevitable that she took a gasp, and he slipped a gag between her perfect teeth.\n\nThis was not the kind of gag a kidnapper used in the movies, no, he had the real thing, a bit-gag with leather straps he buckled so tightly behind her head it made her mouth ache. Crystal whimpered. If only he would at least have let her have a pee, something, anything so she could text Daniel and warn him that some madman claiming to be his brother had her captive. \"Now, pretty one, if you will excuse me, I am going to see about shower. Just...hang out here.\" Chuckling at his sick jest, she heard his heavy feet thumping up the stairs to her bedroom loft and private bathroom.\n\nHe'd been so smooth at tying her up, she hadn't felt the cuffs close around her ankles, but when she tried to stand up she quickly became aware of them and sat back down, dismally. In her purse, she heard her cell-phone ringing and recognized the ringtone as the one she had set for one of her friends at the Warehouse, as they now called their private hang out. She hoped and prayed no one came over, because this man seemed as likely to hurt any of Daniel's friends as he was to hurt her. She also knew he would end up raping her, that was almost a foregone conclusion, but she was willing to endure it if it meant he would leave her, and Daniel, alone.\n\nUpstairs, she could hear him rummaging about, probably going through her things, and the sound of the shower running. Music, louder than the building code allowed, cranked up and she knew the reason behind it. To block out her screaming. Suddenly, she had to do a lot more than pee, she wanted to vomit. Closing her eyes, she tried to send her thoughts in Daniel's direction, then a better thought occurred and the switched to Kirill's direction. He was the biggest man she'd ever seen, what were the chances he was in Chicago at this very moment? Slim, she knew, but it helped her stay calm and focused on anything but her assailant and the torment she was about to endure.\n\nThe shower turned off and the bathroom light went out, plunging the room back into darkness, and her eyes jerked open, swiveling about in fear. When he touched her, she jumped, she hadn't even heard him come back down the stairs; apparently he moved very softly when he wasn't wearing his boots. This made her wonder just how big he was, and she was about to find out because the lamp by her sofa clicked on and she found herself face to face with a one-eyed giant with long salt-and-peppered dark red hair. She could see only a slight resemblance, though this man looked old enough to be Daniel's father, so clearly there was either some separation in age or the man had lived a hard life.\n\n\"Now, since you are unable to speak, I think we will agree you can blink once for 'nyet' and twice for 'da'. Nod if you are understanding.\" He said, and then reclined, revealing a riding crop with metal studs on it that was hanging from his belt. Not even wanting to imagine what that thing felt like, Crystal nodded, and he smiled slightly. \"You know what? I am thirsty. Do you have any thing I might drink?\" Two blinks. \"With alcohol?\" Two blinks. \" _Spassibo_.\" He went into the kitchen and she heard him, once again, rummaging around.\n\nWhen he returned she saw that he had found her liquor cabinet. Not much of a drinker herself, she knew that some of her friends were and so, she kept it fully stocked. In particular, what she noticed, was the bottle of illegally imported vodka Daniel had given her. Winter-wheat, she believed it was, and she knew it was very expensive. He cracked the top and drank straight from the bottle. \"That is good vodka. Where did woman like you come across such good quality drink? Did, perhaps, boyfriend give this to you?\" Two blinks. \"Da, I thought as much; I expect they kept one in fridge for no real reason, da?\" Again, she blinked twice. \"Now, to get down to meat and potatoes. I want to know if you are really woman.\"\n\nCrystal stared at him in utter disbelief for so long, he fidgeted and stroked the whip on his belt almost lovingly. She considered saying no, but then if he checked and found out different it was likely he'd make her suffer more. Unwillingly, she blinked twice. \"I cannot understand this, because brother is gay. He has mated women in past, but he was forced to do it for purposes of getting good fighting stock to train and sell, though unfortunately he is unable, same as Ivan. Does he fuck you willingly?\" Crystal blinked, then felt her cheeks reddening with embarrassment.\n\nHe slid off the couch on his knees in front of her and she tensed as his hand went right up her skirt, not just checking to see if she was lying, but actually slipping into her. Since she was terrified out of her wits, she was anything but aroused, so even the tip of his large index finger made her wince with pain. He withdrew it, looked pleased and sat back down, taking care to suck the finger, just to humiliate her more, as he kept his bloodshot brown eye locked on her emerald green eyes.\n\nAn inadvertent downward glance told her two things she didn't really want to know. The first was that he was enjoying this way too much and the second was that he was far, far superior in size to Daniel, who had been her only lover. Ever. So this, she knew, was going to be extremely unpleasant. Taking a deep breath, she looked back up and saw the knowing grin on his face, then wished she could slap it off of him. Smug bastard!\n\n**Chapter 25**\n\nIn Italy, Ivan was sitting with Aleksei, discussing their next move. Rosa was out doing some sightseeing with Yuri who hadn't wanted to go, really, but she had kowtowed him into it on Ivan's orders. He needed to have this discussion with Aleksei without either of them present, not just Yuri, but he wasn't about to tell her that. \"There is nowhere here we can hide, I saw news story about dog attack late last night.\"\n\nAleksei groaned and sat his teacup on its saucer, gently. \"Where are you thinking this time?\"\n\n\"Cape Town.\"\n\n\"You mean as in Cape Town, South Africa?\"\n\n\"That would be it.\" Ivan smiled slightly, then sobered and continued. \"I have friends there, from back in my...not so savory days. We can even head out into grasslands with some tribe-people if it becomes necessary; I rescued man from diamond-slave camp and we have stayed in touch over years since. He will give us sanctuary.\"\n\n\"Sometimes, Ivan, I think I would like to write a book about your life, but then I realize there is too much there for just one book. I could be even wealthier selling a series of books about you. Just you.\"\n\nIvan chuckled genuinely at this, \"Nyet, statute of limitations is not up. Cannot have written record of my crimes. Perhaps when I am dead and gone I will leave it all behind somewhere, you know, confess on my deathbed.\" He shook his head then and stood. \"Nyet, I will not die old man in my bed, Aleksei, you can be assured of that. Sooner or later, things I have done in past will find me and no one will be able to save me. Not even me.\"\n\n\"So,\" Aleksei changed the subject; he was never comfortable discussing Ivan's death. He had a feeling whatever came for Ivan would take down anyone close to him, too. \"Are you going to break the news to them or am I?\" He asked as he heard Yuri and Rosa come in, laughing about something. Ivan moved in their direction, then glanced back.\n\n\"Tonight, at dinner. We will bring it up.\" He whispered, then let out a soft 'oof' as Rosa threw herself into him, laughing all the harder for having actually collided with him accidentally. She passed it off rather unsuccessfully as a hug, then stood on her toes as he bent and kissed her, his strong arms around her middle, lifting her feet off the floor slightly before setting her back down. \"I take it you and Yuri had fun?\"\n\nYuri was standing behind Aleksei, clearly either biting or kissing the other side of his neck, but when he realized Ivan had asked a question, he stopped immediately. \"Had fun? She's more of a troublemaker than you are! She...I've never...she actually embarrassed me!\"\n\n\"Nothing illegal!\" She blurted out at Ivan's stern glance. \"I promise! Just a little fun is all, not even really in public, but it was so funny...I'll have to tell you when I've had a shower and a change. It's really hot out today.\"\n\n\"Not as hot as it's going to be.\" Ivan muttered, but Yuri had launched into telling Aleksei what they had been up to all afternoon and no one seemed to hear him, which was just as well. It would be better to broach the subject when everyone had had a good meal and some alcohol to relax them a bit.\n\n**Chapter 26**\n\nCrystal gasped as she hit the floor, she'd been trying to bounce to her purse to retrieve her cell-phone and call for help. It hadn't rang in some time, which wasn't uncommon. Her friends were never pushy, if she didn't answer the first or second ring they'd assume she was busy. But this was one of those times she was busy and would rather have not been; would have rather had nosy neighbors or parents. Anyone, even a jealous stalker would have been welcome.\n\nHer legs stung where he had hit them with the crop to get answers from her the two times the phone rang, and she prayed none of the calls had been Daniel. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was almost time for him to call again and she inch wormed herself across the floor to her bag, grabbing the shoulder strap in her teeth. If he came out of the kitchen, she knew he'd likely kill her on the spot, he'd been in there for some time, rattling around, cooking something that smelled good, despite her situation.\n\nThe bag fell on her head and she grunted, just thankful it hadn't fallen on the floor and made a noise, even more thankful when the phone fell out right in front of her on the rug. Shifting so she could move it with her feet, she shoved it under the rug and then slid it as far under the couch as her toes would push it. The ringer wasn't all that loud, kept that way at work so that it didn't annoy her boss or any of the customers and she hoped he wouldn't hear it anymore. Now to deceive him. The spare phone in her coat pocket, the phone connected to her Goth friends. That one did not have Daniel's number in it, and she didn't mind him finding it. He came out of the kitchen and saw her, then made a sound of aggravation at her.\n\n\"Stupid whore. Why you are trying to call for help?\" He pulled her upright, then looked at her expectantly. \"Where is phone? I heard it ring earlier, but I did not think you would try to reach it. Now I know that I was wrong, so where is it?\"\n\nCrystal nodded towards her coat, and her secondary phone, which were right next to where her purse had been placed, thankfully. He took the phone out and examined it, then eyed her suspiciously. \"No missed calls...how can that be?\"\n\nShe tried to tell him, but the bit garbled her words, tried to explain she had it set up that way, but he wasn't listening or even looking at her. He was too busy skimming her addresses and phone numbers, clearly looking for any link she might have to Daniel.\n\n\"You do not have Daniel's number?\" He asked, glancing up for her answer. One blink, and it was true, she didn't have Daniel's number, in that phone, anyway. \"How is it you talk to boyfriend if you have no number? Oh, I see, he dumped you. Used you like whore you are and then walked out. At least boy has some sense.\" He tossed the phone on the table by the sofa and went back into the kitchen without another word and Crystal breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She had at least expected some punishment for turning her chair over. He seemed to like that--and to be damned good at it as he knew just where to hit to make it hurt the worst.\n\nShe'd kicked her high-heels off at one point and he'd given her a few sharp swats with the crop on the bottom of each foot, reminding her he would decide when she would unclothe, not she. When he had let her up to relieve herself he'd stood over her, watching her as she did just that, ignoring her clear humiliation. Then, while she'd straightened her skirt afterwards, he'd gone through the medicine cabinet looking for any goodies and found her sleeping medicine, which he had pocketed. To be honest, she wasn't sorry, he looked as if he could use a good nap, but then it occurred to her he probably meant to use it on her. At least she'd be unconscious whenever she died, that was a bit of a comfort, though not much. Before they departed the bathroom, he had directed her to remove the nylons, but only those, nothing else and she had complied, shivering all the while. The spring nights were still chilly in the upper Midwest, and there was even a promise of snow in the air, she could smell it as he frog-marched her back to the chair in the den.\n\nHe came for her now, picking up the chair with her in it and carrying her to the dining table where, she was surprised to see, he had already set her a place at the opposite end from his own. \"In my country, food is scarce, so big meals are special. People who do not partake in meals are seen as rude, and you would not want me to think you rude, would you?\" Crystal shook her head, then blushed and blinked once and he smiled. \"Good girl that is what I thought. I will bring you food and untie your hands but you will not try to escape, nor will you do anything else stupid, da?\" Two blinks. \"Okay, then, let me go and fetch food.\"\n\nHe carried out tray after tray, even bringing caviar and funny little thin pancakes. She hadn't had this much food in her pantry and she looked at him with utter confusion. \"I ordered it from local Russian grocery, they were more than happy to deliver, but I had to tip them well. I used your credit card...I hope you do not mind.\" Not that he cared, she could see it in his face. \"Now, eat up, we have long night ahead of us.\" He removed the bit, untied her hands, and went to his end of the table.\n\n\"There...there's nothing to eat with.\" She said, her voice soft and hesitant, as he had not indicated if she could speak.\n\n\"Nyet, no way was I going to give you sharp instrument. You will have to eat with your fingers, but I have provided you with towel to wipe them off.\" As if that made it any better.\n\n\"I...I handle money all day...my hands are filthy...\" She said but he shrugged and helped himself to some of the black fish eggs, rolling them into one of the pancakes and then devouring it in two bites only to make another immediately. \"I...I've never tried caviar...what is it like?\"\n\n\"Try it. If you do not try at least little bit of everything, my feelings will be hurt...and then you will not like me at all.\" _As if I like you at all anyway_ , she thought, glad he couldn't read her mind. He went back to eating, shoveling his food down with gusto, and she wondered in silence how long it had been since he'd had a traditional Russian meal. She'd seen orange caviar at a banquet when her Russian studies class had ended, a little celebration the instructor put together. To her eyes, the orange had looked more appetizing and she asked him about it, forgetting her place entirely, for a moment. \"Black caviar is best, Beluga if you can find it, but is very expensive, and rare. Beluga have almost been farmed into extinction for this little egg.\" He held up one of the marbles in his fingers, gently, then popped it in his mouth. \"Orange caviar is shit. Cheap. Could come from any sort of nasty mud fish, and these days usually does.\"\n\nShe picked at everything but did try each item as he had instructed. Still, she couldn't help but feel she'd be throwing up later and the idea of throwing up borscht was somehow almost as unappetizing as eating it. He seemed satisfied with what she'd eaten, thankfully, and when he came to get her he did not take the chair, simply bent and unclipped the shackles holding her cuffed ankles in place. Before she could thank him, the position was getting uncomfortable, he was forcing the bit between her teeth and prodding her towards the stairs. This would be the worst of it, she knew, if she could just make it through this, then she'd survive. Or so she tried unconvincingly to tell herself.\n\n**Chapter 27**\n\nIt was ten minutes past midnight, and Ivan could hear him pacing up and down the hallway even though his footsteps were feather light on the thick carpeting. Sliding away from a sleeping Rosa, he covered her up and pulled on some boxer-briefs before opening the door. \"What's wrong, Yuri?\"\n\n\"I can't get Crystal on the phone...it's not like her to not answer. Don't worry! She doesn't have me listed in her phone by my name. She's got me under the name of one of her colleagues at the bank, a man she'd never talk to in a million years...\" Yuri said and Ivan heard Rosa stir sleepily and put a finger to his lips.\n\n\"Downstairs, you do not want to be waking her...she can be little bit...grumpy.\" Ivan gave a nervous glance over his shoulder. In truth, if disturbed, she could be an absolute beast that even he was a little frightened of. Though, if he woke her the right way, his tongue traced across his lips and where a wicked smile had formed, all might be forgiven. \"How long have you been calling her at midnight?\"\n\n\"Every night since we got here, to Rome, I mean. Well, actually I call her at five minutes past and then she answers and talks to me on the way home. She answered tonight, but I was supposed to call her back...tuck her in...she's been feeling lonely. Only...now she does not answer. It's like she got to the apartment and just...vanished.\"\n\n\"I am sure there is good reason, Yuri.\" Ivan said, and he really wanted to mean it, but inside he suspected it was not the case. \"Go to bed,\" He looked up at Aleksei, who had just come downstairs looking sleepy and confused. \"It looks as if you have been missed.\"\n\n\"Is something wrong?\" Aleksei fetched himself a drink of bottled water from the fridge.\n\n\"Crystal isn't answering her phone.\" Yuri said, staring down at the device as if terrified of it, suddenly, after a few seconds he placed it on the center island where they ate lunch as a 'family' most afternoons. \"I'm worried about her.\"\n\n\"Maybe there has been storm and it has knocked out phone service.\" Ivan suggested, hoping he did not show his worry. Aleksei and he locked eyes and he knew instantly his half-brother shared the same fear he had; after they exchanged a loaded glance, Aleksei threaded his arms around Yuri from behind and laid his head on the graphic tattoo that told Yuri's painful life story. \"Get some sleep, Yuri. There is nothing to do now but wait and see, she will call you hopefully but you know mobile service has been interrupted with solar storms and leftover radiation from...\"\n\n\"From the war, I know. I just don't feel right, not saying goodnight to her. Especially not when she wanted me to call her. She sounded so...lonely. And I know what it's like to be alone...more than most people do, I guess.\" Yuri said, allowing Aleksei to lead him from the kitchen. Ivan stared at the phone as if it were diseased before taking it into the bedroom with him. If something had happened to Crystal, if that something happened to be Dmitri...he didn't want it to be Yuri who answered the call. Or saw any pictures the sadistic bastard would send, and Ivan knew all too well the tactics Dmitri would use, because they had been in his own playbook during his days in his Uncle Oleg's crime syndicate.\n\n**Chapter 28**\n\nIvan knew that Yuri knew he had the phone, but thus far, his half-brother hadn't asked for it back. So, at three in the morning when he heard it vibrating in the bedside table, he awoke and reached for it, opening the drawer quietly. He stared down in disgust at the picture messages that had been sent. There, lying he assumed on her own bed, was a very beaten and bloodied Crystal, her eyes swollen almost shut from being hit, her lips torn apart from being bitten.\n\nThe message attached to the photos, which he assumed Dmitri had probably forced her to type, read, \"Oh, my sweet faggot, how I wish you were here.\" Ivan nearly broke the phone, but then put it carefully back into the nightstand, not bothering to delete the pictures. Eventually, Yuri would have to know what happened. When? He did not know. But he did know it would not be this night, nor many to follow. Not until Dmitri was dead or locked up for life. Only then would he show Yuri what had happened to the sweet young woman from Chicago.\n\nFour days later, they received an overnight package in Yuri's name, but Ivan luckily was the only one present and he signed for it. He opened the cooler carefully, leaning back momentarily to escape the fog from the dry ice, which immediately rolled out like a cloud. When it had dissipated, he cursed and covered his mouth. Inside, stretched on two boards cut crudely from what appeared to be a dining room table, were two pieces of tattooed skin. On one of them was the blue flower he remembered having seen very clearly. In that moment, he knew that Crystal was no longer alive. He wrapped the cooler back up and took it to the room he and Rosa shared, stowing it until he could show both Rosa and Aleksei.\n\nFortunately, Aleksei's birthday was coming up, and Ivan convinced his fiance to take Yuri shopping in the village that very same evening. He then pulled Aleksei straight upstairs. First he shared the pictures with his half-brother, and then the cooler, which despite his medical training sent him flying to the bathroom to vomit. When he returned, smelling of mouthwash, pale, and drenched in cold sweat, he stared down at the cooler in disgust.\n\n\"Will you tell him?\" Aleksei asked, but Ivan shook his head. Then Aleksei seemed to realize something and nearly collapsed in shock. \"God...Ivan if he sent that then he knows exactly where to find us. How long ago was it mailed?\"\n\n\"Overnight, so he would have probably left America same night. Is hard to get flights to Europe but I am willing to bet he is using private jet. I...\" the sound of the door slamming downstairs and feet running up the stairs made them both jump up, and Ivan shoved the cooler back into the closet just before Yuri tore into the room, looking terrified.\n\n\"I swear Ivan...I didn't even see them coming...they just...they...\" he was half in tears and half enraged by the look of him.\n\n\"Where is Rosa?\" Ivan stood, drawing himself up, his rage clear. \"Where is my woman, Yuri?\"\n\n\"They...men in a van...I just...I went in to look at something...she was on the phone to someone but...then they just...grabbed her and tore off...\" he showed Ivan the tag number from the van, written on his arm with the grease pencil from a caricature artist. Ivan looked at it, mouthed each letter, each number to himself five times over and then departed without so much as a word to his brothers. They followed him downstairs to the computer in the living room, a little used device since they hadn't been able to risk the usage of social media. Now, using skills no one knew he possessed, he set to work. Within fifteen minutes he knew the name of the owner of the van and that was where he would start.\n\nBounding up the stairs, he met Aleksei and spoke to him in a low, quick way. \"Get rid of cooler, get rid of pictures on phone and most importantly, get Yuri the hell out of here. Take him to Cape Town, since we are already expected, I will call my contact there and tell them you are coming in under fire. They will keep you safe, I have no doubt.\" He then pushed up the stairs to find Yuri waiting in his room, looking anxious.\n\n\"Ivan I want...\" He started but Ivan cut him off, shoving the cooler nonchalantly out of sight and further into the closet. \"But...\"\n\n\"Nyet, Yuri. You will go on to Cape Town. This game just became all about us big boys and I cannot risk you getting hurt.\" Ivan said, then rummaged through the closet, pulling out black military-style clothing he had used on his night ops when he'd been observing Dmitri. Once more unto breach, old friend, he thought, as he pulled out his razor sharp hunting knife and checked its readiness. He turned and found Yuri still standing at the door, staring at the cooler. \"Is nothing, surprise for Rosa. Go, get Aleksei packing, you have very little time. If something happens to me...\"\n\n\"No...Ivan don't say that!\" Yuri exclaimed, backing away to let Ivan step back out of his walk-in. \"Please...don't ever say that.\"\n\n\"Yuri...is real possibility. He has taken one person that means more to me than even you. He has taken my woman. This weakens me in ways you cannot know...and you never will so long as I have something to say about it.\" Ivan said, sincerely.\n\nKnowing what had happened to Crystal made a knot in his stomach that felt like a twenty-kilo lead weight full of spikes. Yuri's phone, which was lying on the foot of the bed, chirped and Ivan grabbed it before Yuri could even think to move. Enclosed was a picture of Rosa, tied to a chair, mouth taped shut but thankfully still clothed and seemingly unharmed. The message read, \"Oh, are we not going to have good time? She is very pretty Ivan, much prettier, and feistier, than Yuri's little American whore. I am going to rip her to apart...piece by piece. She will not die so quickly as little American did. Nyet. I am going to make this one suffer for your crimes.\" Another chirp and another picture showed Dmitri's hand resting on Rosa's tight blue-jean clad thigh, his fingers clearly digging in. The second message read, \"She really is exquisite. I do not know how long I can stop myself from sampling some real Spaniard.\"\n\n\"What does he mean by 'Yuri's little American whore'? He can't...not...\" Yuri dropped immediately onto the bed and started rocking back and forth as Aleksei appeared to comfort him.\n\n\"I am sorry, Yuri, I had not wanted you to find out this way.\" Ivan grimaced, though he was itching to have been off five minutes ago, he crouched in front of Yuri. \"I never would have had any reason to think he would stoop so low, Yuri. I will make him pay for all of this, I promise. Do you hear me? I promise you.\"\n\n\"And...and what if he...hurts...\" Yuri was sobbing now and Aleksei pushed Ivan out of the way to wrap him in his arms, speaking to him in comforting tones but so softly even Ivan could not hear exactly what was being said. When Aleksei glanced back at him, Ivan gave him a nod and then departed as Yuri broke into a loud, wavering howl, the likes of which he had not produced in a very long time. The sound would haunt Ivan for many days after, as he searched for Rosa, for it gave voice to his own feelings of loss, and of feeling lost without his mate.\n\n**Chapter 29**\n\n\"Relax, I am satiated from what I did to Yuri's American whore. For now.\" Dmitri said, settling himself on a soft pile of sleeping bags and turning on a small, battery-powered wireless radio. Rosa's eyes, which were the color of golden honey, followed him nervously, then returned to the opening of the cave, which was so far in the distance it looked like it was little more than a mouse's hole. \"Do not bother wondering if people come here, I own it. Is private property. Nyet, pretty Spanish fly, no one is going to save you and I fear Ivan will come too late.\"\n\nHe left her in the chair for two or three hours while he rummaged around the cave out of her line of sight in an antechamber. She heard the sound of tools working, driven by lines run from a portable generator he'd fired up when the sun had gone down. Occasionally it would falter and he'd come out and, she guessed, put petrol in it before returning to whatever he was doing. Finally, when she thought she'd just give up and piss in the chair, he appeared and untied her, fisting her long brown and blonde highlighted hair and dragged her into the next chamber. She gasped when she saw what he had done, because it didn't seem possible with a generator and a few power tools. He ripped the tape off and after spewing a few curse words at him in Spanish, she calmed and spoke, trying to stay rational. It would help if one of them did, because he clearly wasn't. \"You can't have just built all of this...\"\n\n\"Nyet, I did not. I have been working on it for weeks.\" He smirked and she looked confused. \"Oh, little American whore has been dead for ages. I took her out just after you left country. Did not want anyone who might remember me coming forward when Ivan and Yuri are murdered in most gruesome ways. And Aleksei...and you, of course. But, you are woman, and you were put here to please men, and you will do your duty before I send you to Hell with faggots and whores you love so very much.\"\n\n_Oh Mother Mary,_ she thought to herself _, feeling the color draining from her face, he thinks his purpose is religious. I am so fucked_. Aloud, she said, \"I don't really care to tell you this but, I think you should know, you will never be even half the man Ivan is.\" He spun and hit her so hard she twisted a full three-sixty before falling to one knee, but bouncing right back up. Instead of cowering, she turned and bolted for the opening at the mouth of the cave, though her steps did falter when she realized he wasn't chasing her. As she neared the light, she realized there was a rusted but sturdy, she would soon find out when she clutched it in her hands, metal gate blocking her in.\n\n\"Rosa...\" He called out, his voice carrying eerily, echoing almost demonically through the stone tunnel. To her left she saw an open hole, what she hoped was an antechamber like the one he had prepared for her, and she bolted into it, completely blind in the darkness. \"Rosa...come back little Spanish fly or I will be forced to be pulling off your wings...\"\n\nShe didn't know what he meant and didn't really want to stop to find out, so she moved as fast as she could, keeping one hand on the ceiling and one on the wall as she moved through the darkness. When he spoke again, she froze in utter confusion, as his voice now appeared to becoming from in front of her when it should have been behind.\n\n\"This is old silver mine, did you know? I found it and later bought it, many years ago. All tunnels are interconnected and if person knows which way to turn they can find their way out in no time.\" He said, casually, and she heard paper rattling. \"Of course, it helps to have night vision glasses and map...always helps. Now why do you not come back to antechamber I prepared just for you? I have heat there and food and bed for us both to share.\"\n\n\"I am not sharing a bed with you.\" She snapped and in an instant found herself suspended by her throat, his huge hand holding her against the wall. His body pressed in close and he breathed up the side of her neck, his unwanted closeness bringing cold-chills out on her skin. \"I am Ivan's woman.\"\n\n\"For now. When I am done with you...if you even survive...no one will want you. Not even dog.\" He ran his tongue across her lips and she snapped trying to bite him, earning herself a hard slap across the face. \"Enough of that...you will find yourself missing teeth. As I told little American whore, I will pick them out one by one. But yours I will make into necklace and send it to Ivan. Little keepsake of our time together.\" He dropped her to her feet, finally, and fisted her hair tightly in his hand before dragging her towards the antechamber once again.\n\n**Chapter 30**\n\nIvan sat back by the bright campfire and pulled his hunting knife, now glowing red hot, from the coals, then shoved it back into the fire. He turned to the bundle hanging from the tree behind him and spoke, almost cheerfully. \"Not ready just yet, but will be soon. Do you know that knife can remove appendages? Could be finger...could be toe...could be cock if you have one big enough to find.\"\n\nThe man in the bundle whimpered and writhed, his greasy brownish-blonde hair dragging the ground beneath him at its longest point. He was suspended by his ankles, and had been for some time, so Ivan knew he didn't have long before death came. Drawing the knife, he shrugged. It wasn't as hot as he would have liked, but it would have to do, so he bent and ripped the tape off of the man's mouth before moving straight to his fly. He knew this would get what he wanted faster than if he started with fingers, and so he dug a gloved hand in and retrieved what, compared to him was very substandard. Almost non-existent.\n\n\"Not very impressive, as I had guessed. Do not waste time begging, you will die no matter what you tell me or do not tell me. What you can control is whether you die with balls still attached where they belong...or with balls shoved down your throat.\" Ivan said, then let the hot knife touch one of the blonde-haired testicles and got a shriek of pain to tell him he had been heard and understood.\n\n\"I...I don't know anything!\" The man shouted as soon as he'd stopped bemoaning the tiny burn Ivan had given him.\n\n\"Okay, so, left one is bigger than right one, we will start with left.\" He touched the man's left testicle and was rewarded with another shriek. \"Nyet? Then start talking. You know what I want to know. Where did man who paid you take my woman?\"\n\n\"Mountains...up in the mountains somewhere. He said he owns land up there...near a town called Fonte Cereno...that's really all I know, I swear.\" The man was blubbering now, crying, and Ivan knew he'd reached the end of his usefulness.\n\n\"Funny thing about wilderness is, when man is not incapacitated, animals fear him. But you injure him or bind him so he cannot move they come from every direction.\" Ivan, in one swift move, slit both of the man's bound arms. Not the wrists, no, he didn't want the man to bleed out quickly, he wanted him to see the creatures that would soon feast on him. Covering the fire with dirt to prevent smoke flaring and alerting anyone who might be in the vicinity, Ivan took one last look at his captive before departing. It had been surprisingly easy to get the information, but he suspected in his haste Dmitri hadn't exactly been choosey over who he had hired.\n\nHe clambered into the very same van that had been used to kidnap Rosa, and in the forest he heard the van's owner screaming for help. With a sigh, he closed the van door and then rolled down the window. He pulled his .45 caliber pistol and screwed on an illegal-as-shit silencer. He fired one shot, then watched and waited, patiently. The man moved no more, nor did he scream. Beyond him, Ivan saw several pair of glowing eyes, and smiled. \"Dinner is served, boys.\"\n\nHe returned the van to the man's suburban address and slipped quietly into the night on foot, headed for a storage facility where he'd kept Dmitri's motorbike, stolen so long ago and shipped to him by Oleg, safely hidden. On the way, he stopped by the apartment and found that the closets were cleaned out of all the clothing, his brother and Aleksei were safely on their way. Breathing a sigh of relief, he dropped the key in the mailbox on the front door along with a note thanking the owner and assuring them a check was in the mail, because he knew it would be. He started away, then paused and ran back up the stairs inside one more time, staring at the empty and unmade bed where he and Rosa had spent every night for the past few blissful weeks.\n\nRage, white-hot and all-consuming, rose in him once more and he took the stairs down two at a time, disappearing through the courtyard out onto the busy summer streets. His mind was a whirl of black thoughts of worry, hatred and despair as he entered the storage facility and fetched the bike, then closed the now-empty container. He did not lock it back, there was no need as he would not be returning to use it. Instead, he kicked the engine to life and roared away, stopping only to inform the attendant the unit would not be needed. After that, he was on the road, headed towards the mountains, and hopefully, the murder of his half-brother.\n\n**Chapter 31**\n\n\"You know, is sad really,\" Dmitri, he had now introduced himself though she'd known him from the moment she'd set eyes on him, said conversationally as he turned a steak on the small campfire in the middle of the antechamber. \"We had really happy family until Yuri decided he preferred men...and Ivan our papa decided they did not mind.\"\n\n\"I'm sure they were all still quite happy. It appears you are the only one now who is not. How old are you, forty? Fifty?\" Rosa asked, staring down at the plate of food in front of her, which she was refusing to eat in case he had drugged it.\n\n\"I am barely one year older than Ivan, so therefore, I am thirty-eight.\" He snapped, then put his own steak, woefully undercooked in her eyes, on his plate. Maybe if they waited long enough he'd get botulism, she hoped, though it was not much of a hope, really. \"You certainly do have sharp tongue for one who is in such predicament. Would be much wiser for you to be polite to me, as American whore found out, I am not pleasant when angry.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well you're not all that pleasant when you're not, either.\" Rosa said, seemingly unable to control her words. Dmitri looked at her contemplatively across the table before breaking into a round of chuckling-laughter and then reaching across the small table-for-two and backhanding her right out of her chair onto the stone floor. She did not bother to get up this time, just stayed there. Finally, he got up and dragged her back to the chair, plopping her back down roughly on the hard seat. She had a myriad of bruises, most from him hitting her and knocking her down, but thankfully she was still clothed, which from the looks of this veritable feast was likely to change soon.\n\n\"I cooked American her last meal, too. At least she ate. Very polite, even under duress, she tried little bit of everything.\" Of course, Rosa did not know, he had threatened Crystal, but it really didn't matter. \"But it appears I will have to...entice your appetite little bit. If you do not at least try some of each thing, then you will meet my little friend on this table as soon as I am finished dining.\"\n\n\"Oh, how adorable, you even have a name for it. It's nice that you have accepted you're not even half the man Ivan is. I bet it was hard for you when you found...\" She didn't get to finish, because he hit her close fisted, straight to the jaw and really sent her sprawling. The chair, which was rickety at best already, broke apart from the impact with the hard stone floor. \"Would you stop doing that? I won't be pretty at all if you keep hitting me.\"\n\nDmitri stared at her in disbelief. Most women would have been sobbing after a hit like that, all of the women that he had ever known in his life would have at the very least been cowed. He was silently impressed, and could see why Ivan loved her so much, but there was no way he was going to let her know. \"I find that bruises only make woman prettier with time because she learns to hold her goddamn tongue and mind her fucking manners. Now get your fat ass back in what is left of chair and shut your fucking mouth unless you are taking bite of food.\"\n\nRosa climbed stiffly to her feet, kicking herself for her comment. She knew all too well he wasn't underwhelming below the belt just by his height and build, and of course, his genetics. Her hope was that she would fluster him so much it would keep sex off of his mind, but instead it seemed her snide comments were only driving him to that much more of a frenzy. \"I don't eat Russian food.\"\n\n\"For love of God, woman. Is it impossible for you to shut fuck up? Just fucking eat what is fucking in front of you before I come over there and cram it down your fucking throat with my cock.\" Dmitri roared, and finally, she acquiesced, knowing she had pushed him too far. It was one thing to annoy him, but she did not want to push him into doing her permanent harm. Chewing was going to be difficult enough, her jaw was beginning to swell from the punch he'd given her, but she did as he ordered though she ate only a miniscule amount. She did, however, drink plenty of water. Later, when the drug he had laced it with kicked in, she would be thankful because it numbed her through some of the torture.\n\n**Chapter 32**\n\nIvan found the small town that had been mentioned within an hour and a half, but there was one small problem. It was a ghost town, dried up since the war. No restaurants, no petrol stations, not even a checkpoint where he might inquire whether or not anyone had seen Dmitri. It wasn't like he was easy to forget. Dismayed, he stopped by the side of the road and stared ahead of him into the moonless night. Soon, to his surprise, he saw a flashlight coming from within the small town, moving towards him cautiously. He checked the .45 at his hip, loosening the strip of leather that kept it firmly in the holster until it was needed, but otherwise made no aggressive moves.\n\nThe man approaching him said something in Italian and Ivan breathed a sigh of relief because he knew it wasn't Dmitri, but then he didn't have a clue how to communicate. Finally, he tried English. \"I am looking for my brother...big man...has eye-patch, you know?\" Ivan covered his right eye and the man lit up immediately and started jabbering and pointing on up the road Ivan had traveled to get to the village. He caught something about eight kilometers, that much he understood, and he also heard the word 'left', but then the man looked frightened and turned and headed quickly away as if he'd said too much.\n\nNow Ivan knew where he was headed, he wasted no time in cranking the motorbike up and heading on into the mountains. When he had counted out the aforementioned eight kilometers, he found a narrow dirt road that led up into the mountains. Just a few hundred yards in, he found that there was a locked gate and knew he was on foot the rest of the way, which was better. The motorbike, while definitely faster, would make too much noise. He only hoped Dmitri hadn't already heard him and turned his rage loose on Rosa. That thought only spurred him to move faster, and soon he was running swiftly and surprisingly lightly up the steep, curving path.\n\nAs he ran, his phone rang and he dug in his pocket, trying to slow his breathing so as not to tip off Dmitri, and as it was a call from the same number that had been ringing Yuri's phone, he knew that's precisely who it was. He slowed his pace to an unwilling and restless walk, then pressed the answer button and listened.\n\n\"Ivan, good to see you still have your phone. I wonder, does that mean little fag has his...\" he groaned slightly, then grunted before continuing. \"Has his phone. Sorry, brother, you would not believe what your woman is doing for me and let me tell you, I can see why you want to marry her, she is fucking delicious. And damn good with her mouth, if you know what I mean.\" When this failed to get a verbal response, mainly because Ivan was wiping blood off of his lip, which he'd just bitten to keep from exploding in rage and inadvertently revealing his location, he continued. \"Just listen...she does gag lot more than I am used to, but then I am willing to bet you have not pushed her limits as I have...as I will.\"\n\nAfter a few seconds, he heard Rosa whimper and then gag violently, almost sounding as if she had aspirated it was such a strong sound. \"Dmitri...I will find you and when do...maybe I will let Yuri have your ass before I cut your balls off and feed them to you.\"\n\nPerhaps that possibility hadn't occurred to him, or maybe it had, either way he exploded into a violent volley of Russian curse words before Ivan heard the sound of a hand hitting flesh and Rosa giving a small squeak of pain and surprise. From the games they had played in their bedroom he knew she was tough, and if she was making any sound from pain then Dmitri was really hurting her.\n\n\"I was done with her for moment anyway. I have ridden her until I just cannot get it back up...but fortunately, that will pass.\" Dmitri said, idly, and Ivan heard a lighter flick and his half-brother inhaling deeply. \"She is not as...responsive as American-whore was, but she is still sweet little Spanish fly. I suggest you hurry up before I pull her wings off and ruin her forever...for you, for anybody...\"\n\nIvan hit the end call button. There was little to be said, and now he tore off at a sprint through the deep dark of night. The thin sliver of a moon had hidden behind the mountain range, throwing everything into almost total darkness so, when the path curved and wound downward, suddenly, he did not see it coming and ran right off into the darkness. As he fell, he did not make a sound, just reached up and pressed a locator beacon on his chest. The beacon would summon his Uncle Oleg's chopper, it had been his plan to send Rosa running with the beacon and have her picked up. For himself, he had no need. He would either make it out alive, or he wouldn't make it out at all.\n\nFortunately for him, the first ledge he hit slowed his fall, unfortunately, it was a sloped ledge covered in small, sharp stones, so not only did his right shoulder break on the hard impact, but he then slid along the stones, rending his flesh, until the second drop came, and then the third. All he could think, the entire way down, was that he had failed Rosa and that he did not want to survive. Now he had nothing whatsoever to live for.\n\n**Chapter 33**\n\nRosa twisted her head, trying to escape the two fingers crammed down her throat to make Ivan think she was sucking on something a little more personal. Her honey-colored eyes stared up at him poisonously and finally, when he managed to get her to gag violently, she clamped her teeth down on his fingers, hard. It earned her a slobbery smack upside the head, but at least his fingers were out of her mouth and for that reason and that reason alone, she was grateful. So far, he hadn't done anything but a few touches here and there, testing the water she was sure, seeing how she would react when the time came. Perhaps he was even teasing himself, because he seemed overly and easily excited by the slightest of things.\n\nThe following morning, a helicopter came in very close and Dmitri sprinted, half-dressed, out of the cave, fumbling with the lock, his eyes on the impressive black and gold craft as it landed. He slammed the gate on Rosa just as she got to the opening, knocking her back inside without a care over whether or not she injured herself. He then ran out to what looked like a cliff and looked down below before dropping to the ground in prone position. He could not see what they were doing, or what they were searching for, but soon the bird was up and away. The important thing was he saw the identification on the side of the craft and the letters were Cyrillic, in other words, they were Russian. When he roared with laughter, Rosa backed away slightly, then ran when he stopped suddenly and shot her the nastiest I'm-going-to-fuck-you-silly look she'd ever seen.\n\nHe was on her before she even reached the antechamber where they'd been sleeping, though how on Earth he caught up so fast, she'd never know. Slamming her face-first against the wall of the cave-tunnel, he held her head with one hand while unfastening her jeans with the other. She took a deep breath and tried to imagine it was Ivan, but she had glimpsed the helicopter too and wondered what it meant. Had he given up on her? Had something happened to him and injured him? She was jolted out of her thoughts by his fingers dry-fucking her as he kicked her feet apart with his heavy boots to get into her at a better angle. Nothing mattered to her now. If Ivan had been so close, he would not have abandoned her, so therefore something must have happened to him. The only thing that could have stopped him was death, so she put two-and-two together and decided he had to have died.\n\nDmitri lowered himself until he was pressing against her opening, which was now wet more with his saliva than her own juices, and thrust upward, lifting her right off her feet. He then continued holding her head against the wall as he gave her a rough, but quick, fucking. When he had finished, he dropped her and her knees buckled, but she was quickly back on her feet. Honestly, he was impressed with her stamina. Not so much with her smell. They'd been in the cave for days, and despite the lack of sex, there'd been a lot of other reasons she had sweated, and of course she was squat pissing in a back antechamber and that could get messy as the floors were hard stone. He decided then that she needed a bath, and that was a good place to start her training.\n\n\"Come, whore.\" He called out, pulling on a camouflage shirt and winding his hair into a ponytail. It was naturally curly and could get in the way in a breeze, and he knew the wind was blowing from his journey outside the cave. Rosa froze immediately when he said this, as was her way, and in an instant he was in front of her, spinning her away from him. At first, she thought he was going to do a repeat performance, but instead, he put something around her neck. She tried to slip away from him, but it was too late, the collar was in place and she heard the plainly obvious snick of a padlock. He then grabbed her shirt and tore it right off of her, throwing it on the ground, her bra soon joining it.\n\nWhen she was completely naked, he dragged her by the neck halfway down the tunnel, then, seeming to grow tired of pulling on her, he got behind her and slapped her with that evil looking riding crop. That, above all else, was enough to get her moving, and she was soon hurrying ahead of him until they reached the gate. \"I'm...you're not making me go out there.\"\n\n\"Da, I am. Do you want to know why?\" He said and she glimpsed an evil glimmer in his dark brown eye. \"Nyet, what I meant was, do you want to know how?\" When she did not move, Dmitri's hand shot out and he grabbed her collar, yanking her to him and taking a knee all in one movement. To her utter humiliation, he turned her over his knee like a child who had done wrong. Unlike, she hoped, he would on a child, however, he used the crop on her with vicious efficiency until she was whimpering from the pain. Most women, he knew, would have been screaming from the pain. This one was special.\n\nWhen he opened the gate this time, taking a pack that had been sitting just inside the door, Rosa followed him meekly down into the ravine through which a river was noisily racing. \"You stink, dog. You are going to wash hair and body every day if you are going to be in my ownership. So, we will be making this walk often. When I am not in cave, I will show you subterranean lake you can bathe in. Is cold, but is cleaner water than even this.\"\n\nShe was actually glad to see the water, to be able to wash him off of her, out of her, and she took the offered pack and hurried in before anyone saw her. He had a long chain attached to her and sat himself on a rock and commenced to read what looked like a newspaper, so she relaxed and went about grooming herself. When the chore was done, she was sunning on a rock in the river, far from him as she could get without strangling herself, warming up from the water which was chilled by the spring snow-melt. Her hand brushed something caught under a stone and she froze, yanking her hand back immediately with a startled gasp before reaching again and pulling out a soggy, waterlogged man's wallet.\n\nHer hands shook from more than the cold as she opened it and she had to fight the cry of misery that rose so hard she nearly dropped the identification card within. Ivan's wallet. Her golden, intelligent eyes, travelled up the cliff, she'd been unconscious when brought in so she had no memory of how they'd come in, and realized he must have fallen. Ivan dead. Her Ivan dead. She glanced up at Dmitri and then stowed the identification back in the wallet and stuffed it back under the rock, protecting it with several smaller rocks. Every chance she got for many days after, she took out that wallet and looked at the picture of Ivan, smiling slightly back at her. One day, when she went back to her favorite spot, she found only the empty wallet and immediately glanced up at Dmitri to see him holding up the ID card, and a cigarette lighter beneath it, melting the plastic.\n\nHe dragged her back forcefully, immediately, and threw her on her knees, nearly rubbing her face in the molten substance. \"All of this time, you have been coming so willingly out so that you could stare at his face.\" He kicked her in the ribs then, hard enough she actually flew a few feet, but when she tried to rise he put his boot on her chest, not caring that he was muddying her freshly scrubbed skin. \"Nyet, my little bitch. From this moment on you crawl like dog you are. I suggest you learn to run on hands and feet, as I am not patient man.\"\n\nAnd so, she did as he said, and he whipped her naked rump all the way back to the camp, then fucked her and whipped her and fucked her some more. Never did he use protection, his reason being he was planning to breed his own 'whelps' off of her to sell. She couldn't have told him she had had the procedure to prevent pregnancy, because she was no longer allowed to speak. Not that she would have told him. Better to let him believe she was barren or he was shooting blanks. Admitting she'd had the procedure would only lead to him finding a way to undo it and by the gods, she hadn't been able to give Ivan any children, she sure as shit wasn't going to give this bastard any.\n\nAfter nearly a month of daily abuse, he suddenly got up one morning and left the cave. On the small camp table, which she was not allowed to use in his presence, were six bottles of water. No food was to be found anywhere in the cave, For what seemed like days, Rosa slept, finally able to rest without fear of waking up under her assailant, which had happened more than a dozen times. She got up only to relieve herself and bathe, and occasionally to drink some water, which was beginning to dwindle by what she thought must have been the fourth day. She'd had to ration it or she would have run out far sooner.\n\nBut, just as she was beginning to get worried he'd abandoned her, he turned up. To her absolute horror, he'd brought along two other large men who couldn't, or wouldn't, stop staring. Soon enough, when Dmitri pointed her to the bed, she understood why. They were going to have a little party with her. That was the first night Dmitri started a new habit: he started taking pictures of everything. Literally.\n\n**Chapter 34**\n\nIvan woke and stared up at the stark white ceiling tiles and bright fluorescent lighting of what, by the sounds and smells, had to be a Russian hospital. He'd spent enough time in them in his younger years to know them without even opening his eyes, but now he had to look, had to figure out how he'd come to be here. A movement to his right caught his attention and he glanced over to find Oleg, whose head had just slumped back in his sleep. Ivan tried to sit up but the pain was immediate and nearly blinding, bringing a grunted curse from him and a surprised, bloodshot-eyed stare from his uncle.\n\n\"My boy! You are awake! Thank God! We thought you were lost...\" Oleg was by his side immediately, clutching his hand, which he was surprised to find when he tried to return the squeeze, had little strength.\n\n\"What happened, Uncle? I was running and ground just...went out from under me...\" Ivan said and then it all hit him, Rosa, Dmitri...all of it. Tears welled up faster than he could raise a trembling hand to wipe them away. \"I...I remember now...and Yuri and Aleksei...did he kill them, too?\"\n\n\"Nyet, they are safe in Africa with Ndigwe still, though his fee is becoming higher and higher. Dmitri is in country, but he is in Cape Town. As you instructed, Ndigwe took them into grassland, where it is safer.\" Oleg pulled his chair over and Ivan winced at the horrible grating sound, but said nothing. \"No word on your woman...I can only assume...\"\n\n\"He killed Yuri's woman in America, it stands to reason he will have killed Rosa, too. My sweet Rosa.\" The tears fell this time and Oleg actually stood and held him as no one had since he was a small boy. When finally he had calmed, Oleg sat back down and leaned heavily on the bed. \"How long...\"\n\n\"Two months, give or take. You broke both of your arms, both bones in your lower right leg, two vertebrae, those were of most concern for long time until you moved your feet in your sleep, and one of your hands was crushed.\" He nodded to the hand he wasn't holding, Ivan's left, \"That one, da, and both of your ankles. Only thing that saved you, we think, is river was running high and your last bounce was enough to propel you into water. Somehow you wound up on your back and we found you on bank, unconscious and bloody, swollen, bruised mess. I had pilot fly you to Italian hospital first, but they ask too many questions, so we moved you back to St. Petersburg. I thought maybe not such good idea taking you to Moscow. Dmitri has people paid off everywhere, watching for any sign of you, though they would hardly recognize you if not for your height. You look more like Aleksei, and your papa, than ever I have seen.\"\n\nTwo more months passed before Ivan was discharged, he did his physical therapy like a champion, though his heart wasn't really in it. With every straining breath, with every grunt of exertion, all he could think over and over was, \"I failed her.\" But he was, at least, determined not to let Yuri down, and in order to get to Cape Town, he had to satisfy the doctors that he was capable. So it was, in mid-August, he departed St. Petersburg and flew back to Italy via the same chopper that had picked him up all those months before. The pilot remembered that journey well, though he asked no questions, and he was able to land in exactly the same spot as the river was now barely a trickle in the heat of the late summer.\n\nIvan found the cave path easily, and followed it up until he came to the locked gate. Using a rock and his scant strength, he finally bashed the rusted lock until it gave way and walked in, stopping once inside to allow his eyes to adjust. He sniffed the air, but caught scent of nothing living nor dead, so he walked on, cautious for any traps that might have been set. When he came to an antechamber, he used the flashlight on his mobile phone to illuminate the room, his eyes immediately coming to rest on a small camp table and a lantern. He supposed he should have reconsidered using it when he saw matches had been left for whoever might find it, but in that moment he didn't think.\n\nWhatever he was prepared for, it was not what he found when the room was lit, and he stood in shocked horror, turning slowly from wall to wall. Pictures. Thousands of color photographs, some of the most graphic had even been enlarged into poster-size prints of all of the demeaning things Rosa had suffered, not only at Dmitri's hands but by the look of it, there had been others as well. Ivan snatched down any picture with any identifying marks, his rage had returned. He would avenge this atrocity. She had not deserved to die this way. But where, he wondered as he searched the rest of the antechambers and tunnels, was her body?\n\n**Chapter 35**\n\n\"Omar, are we all set?\" Dmitri asked, leisurely, shifting his legs on the footstool and causing it to stir so that he kicked it, bringing a small squeak of pain. He didn't like the way the African man looked at his dog, but they had already discussed it, only when Dmitri was done with her would Omar be allowed to put his hands on her. In a disease ridden country like Africa, that was the only way he could be certain his own body stayed clean.\n\n\"Yes, sir, almost, sir. We just need to load up de...de dog, sir. Its cage is in back of de truck, as you requested.\" Omar said, then straightened his red baseball cap and looked away from the naked woman Dmitri's legs were resting on.\n\n\"Good, that is good.\" Dmitri stood and finished the glass of chilled vodka he'd been savoring before they departed the safari park's most expensive villa. \"How many days until we reach village?\"\n\n\"Two to three, sir, depending on de roads and de weather...and de vehicles, of course.\" Omar added as Dmitri passed the dog's leash to him. \"I will load...it...up den, sir. Shall I walk it?\"\n\n\"Nyet, it can hold it. It knows what will happen if it soils its cage again, does it not?\" He asked, and the dog let out a small whimper, as if remembering terrible pain. Omar said nothing, but his jaw clenched slightly before he pulled the pitiful creature out of the villa door and into a secluded spot in the side garden which was not strictly on the way to the truck and the cage.\n\n\"Dog...I hate calling you dat...go ahead and go before I load you...I can't stand to see him beat you anymore.\" Omar urged but the dog was already pulling towards the truck, set on doing what its master had ordered. \"So be it, den.\"\n\nShe jumped joyously into the hard-bottomed cage and, after lapping at the water bowl, curled up in the corner. Several woman shouted hateful things at Omar and he looked at them but made no attempt to defend himself. He had done nothing to improve this woman's plight, so how was he any better than the man who had enslaved such a pretty being? When the door was closed and padlocked, Omar climbed into the driver's seat of the truck and cranked it, waiting for his boss, who came along presently, dressed as any European going on safari might.\n\nHe gave no thought to the 'dog', just climbed into the truck and settled in as they eased through the crowd. The same women who had heckled Omar tossed rotten vegetables at his truck as they eased through traffic, and one bold woman tried to reach the cage, but Dmitri fired a few shots in the air. From that point on, the crowd scattered, and they were able to move through the market on the outskirts of the camp much quicker.\n\nIndeed, the trip did take two days, and if Omar thought Dmitri was being merciful letting her out to relieve herself at night, the masculine grunting and the squeaks of pain from her through the long, quiet nights were enough to tell the story. He only let her out because he wanted to use her for his own pleasure. In the mornings, he would order Omar to help her to wash off and then she would be loaded back into the truck where she would, he assumed, finally get some sleep. She seemed perfectly happy with the way of things, which Omar could not understand but he supposed she'd probably lived that way for years and knew no different.\n\n**Chapter 36**\n\nIn the middle of the African grasslands, the arrival of a helicopter tended to stir up a good bit of talk, so Ivan opted to land in Cape Town and hope it went unnoticed. The airport was several miles from the last known place Dmitri had been staying, so Ivan felt relatively confident he'd be able to slip into the country and then depart from the city immediately. He heard talk of a man who had a woman that he treated like a dog and he knew it was Dmitri, who else, but he never considered the woman might be Rosa. Had he even let the thought cross his mind, he would probably have torn the Safari Retreat to shreds looking for her.\n\nWhen he walked into the small village where Ndigwe and his brothers were staying, he immediately stirred interest, but nothing of a rude sort. Aleksei was in a rudimentary hospital-style tent-compound. There, he rendered medical aid as best he could with the limited supplies the WHO sent him monthly. He looked up at Ivan and his jaw dropped, the protective cap from a syringe he'd been prepping to give an injection fell from his mouth. After holding up his hand at Ivan to wait, he gave a small African child the injection and then put a plaster with cartoon characters on it over the site. After saying something in the tribal dialect Ivan saw him and the mother exchange smiles, and she departed carrying her baby.\n\nNow he turned his attention to Ivan, appraising him silently, and Ivan knew from his sad expression he was well aware of what had happened in the time they'd been apart. Oleg would have kept Aleksei and Yuri well informed. His eyes scanned the crowded tent and he frowned. Where was Yuri? The doctor handed Ivan a paper cup with several different pills and Ivan eyed them cautiously.\n\n\"Take them,\" A bottle of lukewarm water was thrust in his hand. \"There are so many diseases out here I'm sure I don't know half of them...yet. But, those pills guard against the ones I am familiar with and I can't let you be unprotected. My God, Ivan, you look like you've aged sixty years...what happened to you?\"\n\n\"Ivan?\" A soft voice said and Yuri appeared from behind a cloth partition. He flew to Ivan, who had just finished swallowing the cup of assorted medicines, and threw his arms around him. \"You...you almost died...don't die on me...just...don't...\"\n\nThat moment made all of it worthwhile to him, knowing that someone somewhere still needed him, needed his protection. In that instant, he realized he was going to have to get back in shape, he couldn't very well protect them in his current state. \"I missed you...both of you...I did not realize how much until now...\"\n\n\"Ivan...I have a few more patients to see and then I'll be closing up...it would be best if you're not seen...\" Aleksei said, glancing at the crowd that was still waiting, milling about in a seating area. \"He's here, Ivan. In another village less than a three miles from here. We would have run but Ndigwe says this village is being watched. I only hope your arrival has gone unnoticed...\"\n\n\"Does not matter. Cover story has already been discussed. In graveyard there are two empty graves. Both of you died of malaria six months ago.\" Ivan said, then let Yuri drag him into the surprisingly cool and nicely furnished living-area of the tent. There was even a third cot set up, and his eyes rested on it, then turned to Yuri, curiously.\n\n\"We expected you would come eventually, so we always had a bed set up.\" He jabbered about this and that until the sun started to set and he went back out into the village proper without any explanation. Ndigwe turned up soon after and joined them for dinner, but the news he brought was more unsettling than any of them could have expected.\n\n\"He has woman with him, this man you flee from. Pretty little thing, but he treats her worse than dog. She looks Spanish to my eyes, though I have not seen her up close, others say her eyes are the color of honey.\" Ndigwe said, absently, not knowing who she was. \"Several men have made offers to buy her, but he is not yet interested in selling her. He says she is useless for breeding but still a damn good...\" Ivan slammed his fist down on the table. \"What? What have I said my friend?\" Ndigwe's eyes were large and frightened, for he had known Ivan at his worst, back during the war.\n\n\"She was my fiance, Ndigwe.\" Ivan said, his voice hoarse with barely-contained rage. \"Until this very moment, I believed her dead. Now I must contrive plan not only to kill him, but to rescue her...and I think I know just what plan is. Tomorrow, you will take me to village he is in and I will meet with him...\" Ivan launched into a description of just how things were going to go as his brothers listened in shocked silence. If Yuri was bothered, hearing of Rosa's treatment, he did not speak of it but Ivan was willing to bet it was horrible for him, based on the dead look in his younger half-brother's eyes.\n\n**Chapter 37**\n\nRosa soon became a popular figure among the men in the small village, as her master sent her to fetch water every morning and every evening. He had finally consented to allow her to wear a skirt, but her breasts were uncovered and bronzed by the sun as she walked purposefully to the village well. One man had tried to touch her and Dmitri had shot him dead where he stood, though there would be no reprisal, as the man had been in the wrong. Her feet were filthy and often infected as Dmitri would not allow her shoes and the horrid, enormous thorns were forever getting embedded in her footpads, no matter how tough they were.\n\nOmar watched her work, carrying the day's water and the night's water on her back in a large pottery urn that he would have struggled with. She did the work without so much as a whisper of complaint, but he could tell it caused her back and shoulders to hurt her. He had offered, once, to do the chore for her but Dmitri had refused, saying it did her good. Omar had walked away from the conversation shaking his head at what and ignorant bastard this Russian was. Still, he paid well, and Omar had a wife and six children in Cape Town, not to mention his widowed sister and her four, to support.\n\nOver the next week Dmitri got bored and disappeared on a hunting excursion, leaving the 'dog' in Omar's care, which suited the African man just fine. When she was eating one night, and the Russian bastard had even left strict dietary guidelines to prevent her 'fat ass from getting any fatter' as he put it. Not that she was fat at all, in fact, she was getting more and more dangerously skinny with every passing week and Omar was concerned she would soon die. Still, when he offered her an extra measure of food, she refused to eat it, despite the hungry way she eyed it.\n\n\"Why you let dat man treat you dis way?\" He asked her as he brushed out and braided her hair one evening, but he expected no answer, and got none. So, he persisted. Every morning after she'd been fed, when he let down her hair and brushed it silky and smooth, he repeated the question. To his surprise, the third night, she shrugged. So, he asked his next question, \"Why you stay when der be men who would treat you so much better?\"\n\n\"Used to...to have man...he...died.\" She said, softly, clearly she was unaccustomed to speaking and Omar wondered how long it had been since she had been permitted to use words. \"I give up hope then.\"\n\nOmar felt like weeping. There was still a woman in there. Now all he had to do was get her to run while she could, he would take her anywhere she wanted to go, even the moon if he had to flap his harms and fly her on his back. \"What if I accidentally left you untied one night...would you run? I would run with you...I would take you anywhere dat you would want to go.\"\n\n\"I belong to master now. I could not leave him. He needs me.\" She said and then went to her dog-bed in the corner near her master's bed and lay down, hooking the chain to her collar herself, her back to him. Omar knew there was nothing more to be done than hope that somehow the Russian bastard got himself killed on safari. It was a vain hope.\n\nThe following day, Dmitri returned and immediately dragged the dog to his bed. She screamed and howled in pain most of the night, much to the muttering displeasure of the other villagers whose children had been kept awake by the noise. When he emerged the next morning looking unusually chipper, Omar noticed blood on his hands and thought certainly he had killed the wretched creature. Eventually, though, she came when called, her head down in shame. Something had been carved into her back, deep wounds that desperately needed medical care as they were already drawing flies and bound to turn septic. Omar could not read the Russian lettering, but Dmitri seemed quite pleased with whatever they said, and even threw handfuls of salt at her, occasionally, just to laugh at her trying to lick the wounds she could no more reach with her tongue than her hands.\n\n\"Let me go to de WHO tent in de next village and get some ointment or dog will die.\" Omar pleaded with him repeatedly until finally Dmitri acquiesced. He liked having something around he was relatively safe fucking, certainly none of the women around the village would have him, not after how they'd seen him treating the dog. Not that he understood their reluctance. Omar saw her watching him balefully from the front of the tent, clearly waiting for her daily bathing and grooming, which he would not be performing since her master was back. As he watched from his idling truck he saw the Russian bastard drag her away from the door by her hair and he sighed, then drove towards the next encampment, his heart heavy. He knew what was probably happening to the woman, but he felt powerless to stop it.\n\n**Chapter 38**\n\n\"Omar!\" His old friend Ndigwe greeted him as he climbed out of his truck. \"I was hoping I would be seeing you soon. Come in, someone wants to meet you, and dat bastard you be working for.\"\n\nIf Omar was surprised by this, then he was absolutely floored when he set eyes on the enormous blonde haired man within the tent, assisting the doctor. He had never seen a man so tall in all of his natural life, nor would he see one again, and he had thought his boss was tall!\n\n\"You work with man with one eye who treats woman like dog?\" The blonde didn't mince words, and Omar dropped his hat in excitement.\n\n\"Yes! Yes, dat I do! Dat is why I am here! De bastard cut something into de dog...de woman's back last night and I had to beg him to let me come to de doctor tent to get medicine so it...she will not die.\" Omar said, then his smile turned into a frown. \"I wish der was some way I could get dat woman away from him...he...he so horrible to her. She is going to starve to death, he will not care for her properly...it is so sad, but when I finally got her to talk to me...it took a while, you know? She said dat de man she love is dead and dat she have no more reason to live. It breaks my heart.\"\n\n\"I am that man.\" Ivan said, softly, and Omar dropped his hat again, this time not bothering to stoop and pick it up. \"He believes I am dead, and now he is here to kill doctor and...and my other brother who is in back of tent. I hope that you can be trusted, because we have plan to get her out of here and make him pay for all terrible things he has done...to everyone.\"\n\n\"Anything dat you say, sir. Anything. Just, can de doctor give me some medicine for de woman? Dat is why I came and de boss will be angry if he think dat I lied to him...\" Omar said and Aleksei immediately set about preparing some antibiotic ointment for whatever sort of wounds the man might be talking about. He hadn't spoken, his eyes were wide with apprehension, fearing Dmitri would shoot Ivan on sight. Somehow, Ivan didn't think so, but Aleksei just wasn't sure.\n\n\"I will be going back with you to see your boss.\" Ivan said, and Omar nodded, though his expression showed how nervous he was. \"I will explain plan on way there. I think is doable, but you can fill me in on anything I need to know.\"\n\nBack at Dmitri's pavilion of expensive tents, Omar asked Ivan to wait just outside while he told him someone had been in the WHO tent asking about him. Dmitri came to the door at once, and to Omar's surprise, the Russian's face paled almost as gray as death when he set eyes on the blonde giant. \"Take dog in my rooms and tie it there, then close partition...and keep it fucking quiet or I will slice both of your throats.\" He said to Omar softly before stepping outside. \"What sort of wonderful surprise is this, to find my half-brother here, in Africa?\"\n\nIvan watched as Dmitri checked over his shoulder before inviting him inside, clearly he had sent Omar to hide the woman Ivan thought must be Rosa, and rightly so, for Ivan would have killed him on the spot had he seen her in her current state of duress. \"I think you know as well as I do. I came looking for Yuri and Aleksei.\"\n\n\"And you found fags treating sick villagers in next camp, I suspect?\" Dmitri said, idly, pouring both himself and Ivan a healthy measure of vodka from a crystal decanter before motioning him to a seat. \"That is what I have been told by several, a strange man and his lover are there.\"\n\n\"They were there, six months ago. They died of malaria. Well, Aleksei died of malaria. Yuri died of combination of that and cholera, I think they told me. Nyet, is man and his son there now...his wife is in Cape Town working, they are some sort of missionaries. I never understood their ilk.\" Ivan leaned in, trying not to grab Dmitri and break his neck was the hardest thing he'd ever done. \"So, I saw cave, you really gave Rosa good workout. What ever happened to her? I never thought she would betray me. But, she was whore after all, as I think all women certainly must be.\" He shot Omar a look of the briefest apology over Dmitri's shoulder and the man nodded slightly, showing he understood the deception to be necessary.\n\n\"Oh, but she as was tough one! It took me better part of six months to break her but once I did she was exceptional fuck. Unfortunately, though, all good things must come to an end. I could not bring her to Africa, travel restrictions and such, I sold her to flesh-trader in Dubai. He paid premium for her, something about those honey colored eyes.\" Dmitri shrugged and leaned back. \"So, fags are dead, woman is dead, where does that leave us?\"\n\n\"I am heading back to Russia to work in carnivals again sometime in next week. Might do some hunting first, maybe see to it that Yuri and Aleksei have proper headstones, all they have is crude markers at this point.\" Ivan shrugged and finished the glass of strong alcohol. \"And you?\"\n\n\"I like it out here, good hunting. I will probably remain another month or so. Perhaps I will see you in Moscow if you come to visit.\" Dmitri was on his feet now, and Ivan stood, well aware of how much weight he had lost when he looked at his half-brother's impressive bulk. He was even starting to show some rounding at his mid-section. Testament to his lazy decadence, no doubt. \"Omar?\"\n\n\"Yes, boss?\"\n\n\"Take my brother back to other village and then hurry back here, I want to set up another hunting excursion tomorrow.\" Dmitri said, taking the glass Ivan had been holding. Ivan's eye caught a glimpse of movement in the back part of the tent, through a gap in the partition, but he did not allow it to hold his attention. \"Ivan, is good seeing you. Hopefully, will be seeing you again in Moscow.\"\n\nIvan departed with Omar, who was nearly trembling with fear. \"Da boss knows you up to no good, he knows it, I can tell he knows.\"\n\n\"Just remain calm. Tomorrow, before first light, Ndigwe will come with our little proposal...just...stay with woman until then as much as you can. I know at night is not possible, but any other time, keep at least an ear on her tonight.\"\n\n\"I will sir. Thank de gods you showed up, sir. Otherwise, she would be as good as dead, sir.\" Omar dropped him off and sped away and Ivan hurried into the tent.\n\n\"Okay, the game is set. Ndigwe, you are on tomorrow.\" Ivan said and his long-time friend nodded, a sly smile on his face.\n\n**Chapter 39**\n\nDmitri smiled to himself as he looked down at the woman's back. 'Dmitri's Bitch' forever carved into her flesh and, the best part was, Ivan thought her dead. So Dmitri's Bitch was what she would remain for the rest of her miserable whore's life. He let his softened member fall away from her and then slapped her on the backside so that she knew she could leave the bed, which she did, albeit slowly. The cuts still pained her, but he knew she'd be the better for it when they healed. Then no one could ever dispute his ownership of her.\n\nShe curled up on her dog bed and soon seemed to be sleeping, but he was still restless, unusually so but he didn't have to wonder why. Seeing Ivan alive had been a shock, and seeing him in such a state, so much muscle mass gone, he had to wonder what on Earth had happened. He supposed he'd never know, it wasn't likely, however seemingly pleasant their meeting had been, they'd ever even trade so much as sneers in passing. Someone tapped on the door frame from outside and he was instantly alert, thinking Ivan might have come back to settle things. Instead, he found it to be a teenaged boy who was out of breath from having run seemingly a good distance.\n\n\"My...cousin...Ndigwe...\" the boy panted as Dmitri hurriedly fixed him some water, glancing at Omar, who had just stepped in behind the boy. \"Ndigwe...from de nex' village. He say...he comin' tomorrow with proposal. But he want payin' Ndigwe does. He got information dat you wants to hear. So, he say, do not be goin' anywhere until he can talks to you.\"\n\n\"I am not planning on going anywhere.\" Dmitri said and the boy gave him a nod of approval. When he realized Dmitri was not going to toss him a coin, he left the tent and disappeared into the night. \"Omar, do you recognize name he gave? What was it? Ah, Ndigwe?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir...Ndigwe is high-ranking male in dat village...if he has information you be best to receive him, sir, der is no telling what it is he have to tell you.\" Omar said, his fingers crossed tightly behind his back.\n\n\"Very well. Lock up and I will see you in morning.\" Dmitri went back to his own partitioned off room and dragged the woman up from her sleep and threw her on her painful back, then proceeded to take her fast and rough as she whimpered in discomfort more at the pain in her back than anything he was doing to her. She'd long since been stretched and used enough that he could do just about anything to her without any complaint. When he'd given her two more loads of his seed, he shoved her roughly off the bed, kicking her when she moved too slowly, and settled down, though his mind continued to race.\n\nHe could hardly wait for morning, to hear what this Ndigwe had to tell him, perhaps the man had information on Aleksei and Yuri. He was certain Ivan had lied, though he had no way of proving it and he certainly wasn't about to charge into the other village now, he'd just open himself up to being shot and that was not high on his list of things to try. So he was awake well before daybreak, pacing, he dragged up the woman and took her again, his blood was up and she was the only thing he found remotely calming. But she was lethargic, sickly this morning, he could feel fever radiating off of her and knew the cuts had, despite Omar's salve, become infected. So much for keeping her alive. He sighed, resignedly. Good dogs were so hard to find.\n\n\"Omar!\" He bellowed and heard a child start up crying in a nearby tent. The man dragged in looking sleepy and confused. \"Get dog washed up, it is not feeling well. I thought you said medicine would keep it well.\"\n\n\"I did, sir. But dat was under ideal circumstances and you did not keep it still and clean.\" Omar said, his temper rising at sight of the red inflammation on the woman's back. \"I will do everything I can for it.\"\n\n\"Good. I wonder when this Ndigwe will turn up.\" Dmitri said, more to himself than to Omar, then went to the cook-fire out back and stoked it up, putting a kettle of bottled water on to boil for his morning meal. He did not long have to wait, much to his relief, he saw the man coming in riding comically on a donkey, which was far too small for a man of at the very least, six feet in height. \"Come in, good sir, come in!\"\n\nHe paid no heed to Omar and the dog, he was washing her gently, despite her whimpers of discomfort, trying to clean out the wounds with water and very little soap. Dmitri noticed Ndigwe's eye landed on the dog and stayed there. She glanced up and then looked away immediately, first to her master and then at the dirty water in which she was sitting on her knees. \"Dat is pretty dog you have der.\"\n\n\"Da, I am very fond. What brings you to my tent so very early? I am told you have...information?\" Dmitri said, offering the man his own coffee, which he hadn't yet tasted, but the man waved him off politely.\n\n\"I came prepared to ask for money but I mus' say...dat dog der...I like dat. I can never find a woman so obedient...I have heard much of men who tame dem, but dis is firs' one I seen.\" Ndigwe was still staring at her, clearly his interested was growing rather than waning. \"I tell you what, I will give you my information if you will give me dat dog. Trus' me, dis is information you be wanting.\"\n\n\"And if it is not?\" Dmitri asked, shrewdly, already weighing it in his head. Despite Omar's care, he doubted the dog would live more than another week, if that long. Then he'd be in charge of paying for its burial which, even in Africa, did not come cheap. Better he trade it to this unsuspecting sucker now than have to deal with disposing of its carcass. \"I guess if is not then I will keep dog and you will be on your way.\"\n\n\"Fair enough.\" Ndigwe said, showing him a broad smile full of yellowed, but straight, teeth. \"Is about your brothers and dat doctor dey been travelin' wit.\"\n\n\"My brother and doctor are dead, only one brother remains.\" Dmitri said, but Ndigwe shook his head.\n\n\"Dat not be true. De white hair doctor and black hair man who sleep in same bed wit him...dey still be livin' an in same village I just come from.\" Ndigwe said, then held out a camera phone with a picture of Ivan, Aleksei and Yuri that had seemingly been taken inconspicuously as they sat around a dinner table laughing and talking only days before. \"Dey went on safari dis morning, lef' out early, but dey won't have gone far. Dey went by slow truck, de big blonde one, de tall one name Ivan, he wanted to go hunt before dey leave de country in two days.\"\n\n\"You are right, Ndigwe, your information is valuable to me. Omar, bring dog here.\" Omar, hoping his smile was not visible, because he was beaming on the inside, pulled the dog to his boss's feet.\n\n\"You have been good pet, my little bitch, but this nice man has bought you now so that I might finish my business and go back to Russia and live happy life. He will take care of you from here on out.\" Dmitri said and she watched as he passed the leash off to the strange-looking dark-skinned man with no hair and yellow teeth. \"Thank you for doing business with me.\"\n\n\"No, no, de pleasure is all mine.\" Ndigwe led the dog out and pulled her along behind his donkey into the dim light of dawn.\n\n\"Rot in hell, Ivan's whore.\" Dmitri commented under his breath. He knew the safari game-lands well, and started preparing to depart immediately. Omar had disappeared, probably to get a bite to eat, he supposed, as he finished up his coffee, which he'd left sitting on the table as he watched his bitch trot off behind Ndigwe's donkey. His stomach was full, so he didn't immediately feel the effects of the drug Omar had put in the coffee, by the time he did, though, it was too late. He collapsed across the camp bed, asleep before his body even hit the less-than-soft mattress.\n\n**Chapter 40**\n\nDmitri woke with a scream Ivan imagined anyone within two miles had probably heard, if there was anyone within two miles. He was lying flat on his back in the hot dust, completely naked, his arms and legs stretched painfully by ropes tied to stakes driven deep into the ground.\n\n\"Shut up, big baby.\" Ivan said, giving him a hard slap across the face. \"You are still alive, but you will soon be wishing you were not.\"\n\nHe made sure Dmitri was watching him as he opened Aleksei's surgery kit, laying out the tools in the sunlight so that the metal would heat up. He then took a cloth and wiped away the sweat on Dmitri's chest as carefully as he could. During this time, Dmitri's eyes were drawn to the source of another noise, the sound of wood hitting dirt. He saw Ndigwe and Omar setting a thick post in the ground, a long chain with manacles dangling from the top of it.\n\n\"Please...Ivan...you saw her...you saw how much she...\" Another slap, this time one of his lips split and Ivan spit on him before pulling on rubber gloves. He had written, Dmitri noticed, the words \"Ivan's Bitch\" down his chest and belly in four different languages. Now Ivan picked up a scalpel and whistled, bringing Omar and Ndigwe over, their work interrupted. A rough, foul smelling cloth was forced between his teeth by Omar, who was staring down at him with a self-satisfied smirk. Ivan was crouched over Dmitri's waist, avoiding touching him by sitting on him.\n\n\"Now, I want to make lasting impression so you never fuck with me again. Scalpel will only make small incision, so I am going to have to cut out some rather decently sized strips.\" Ivan said and Dmitri strained with all his might then, as the sun-hot blade touched his skin, a howl of pain coming from him as Ivan cut away a half-inch thick, half-inch deep English-alphabet letter 'I'. \"There, now. That is one letter down...many more to go.\"\n\nWhen Dmitri lost consciousness, and he did several times, Ivan would get up and stretch his legs, have a drink of water, pace back and forth and wait. Then, as soon as Dmitri was conscious once more, he would go right back to work. \"While I am working on you, you should know, Yuri thanks you for lending your body for his...experimentation last night. You were first virgin he ever had.\"\n\nDmitri looked sick, then closed his eyes and groaned as Omar gave Ivan a knowing smirk. In fact, Ivan had inserted a little sliver of super-hot pepper into his half-brother's rectum while he was unconscious, to give a burning sensation that would leave him thinking he'd been violated. It was worth it now, that disgusting task, as Dmitri stared up at the sky, silently. But, the silence was not long lived, as Ivan was still a few letters away from finishing his work. Night was falling and Ndigwe and Omar were sitting by a roaring bonfire, heating Ivan's hunting blade for the last step of Dmitri's debasement.\n\nWhen he was weak with blood loss and sickened by the burning in his backside, the two African men helped to flip him over on his stomach. No care was given to protecting the wounds on his chest because none of them cared if he died of infection, or if he died any other way. Now Ivan took the knife, which was glowing red hot and carved 'Yuri's' with a drawing of a human eyeball beneath it on the left side of his rump, and then 'Bitch' and an eyeball under that word on his right side. All the while Dmitri howled and whimpered and begged. He knew what Ivan was doing and he knew what those eyes meant in Russian prisons. It meant he was willingly offering himself to other inmates for sex, whether he was actually willing or not.\n\nIvan stood up then and stood over him for a long moment before nodding to his companions. They hefted Dmitri up and dragged him to the post where Ivan stretched his hands up to the manacles and suspended them, leaving Dmitri standing. Well, more like he was slumped against the post, but he was upright.\n\n\"Now, in best interest of time, I have to be off. Aleksei will have gotten Rosa and Yuri to safety, but that is not what matters. What matters is this: you will hang on this post in God-forsaken middle of nowhere for rest of your miserable life which, without fire and protection, will not be long. Already hyenas have been stirring, they smell your blood on wind. I couldn't care less. But as you die, as they rip your intestines from your body, and they will, I want you to beg forgiveness of the Almighty in Heaven because you will find no forgiveness on this Earth. Not from me, not from Yuri or Aleksei...and certainly not from Rosa. Personally, I hope you do not ask forgiveness so that you may dance with Devil until my time comes and we meet again.\"\n\nWith that, Ivan nodded to Omar, who went about setting out a bottle of water and food well in Dmitri's line of sight but also well out of his reach. \"Dat is why you do not treat women dat way, Russian bastard.\" Omar spat on him and watched as Ndigwe smothered the fire, which was the only thing keeping the hyenas at bay. The three piled into Omar's truck and sped off into the distance, but Dmitri did not watch him, his eyes were focused on the twenty or so shapes that were approaching. His ears tuned into their soft chuckling sounds. He would not beg forgiveness because, in his own mind, he had been in the right all along.\n\n**Chapter 41**\n\n\"Gods, Aleksei, what is that, fucking wildcat?\" Oleg eyed the rocking, shrieking crate warily. \"I thought you said you had recovered Ivan's fiance.\"\n\n\"That _is_ his fiance.\" Aleksei, who looked drawn, tired, and significantly aged said. \"Can we just put her in cistern? I am tired. Yuri is too.\"\n\nOleg embraced Yuri as he entered the house, squeezing him so that his eyes looked likely to pop out of their sockets before he finally released his nephew. \"Da, cistern is this way, in middle of house. Used to use it as swimming pool some, but was too much upkeep since I am barely here anymore so I had maintenance man drain it. Glad I did now.\"\n\nIt wasn't easy, threading the large crate through the house, but after some time, and nearly losing it going down the ramp to the cistern doors, they successfully placed it in the center of the room. Yuri insisted both Oleg and Aleksei leave, for their own safety, and then he pulled the pins holding the 'door' of the crate closed out and sprinted behind them. When she finally bumped the door and knocked it open, she came pelting out, tearing wildly around the cistern, wailing loudly for a master she would never see again. They left her to it, not feeding her per Ivan's instructions, but they did leave her water. He had already been in touch, Ivan had, and his work done with Dmitri he was now on his way to Siberia where Oleg's safe house compound was located.\n\nYuri had been oddly distant since they had rescued whatever was left of Rosa, his dark eyes studying her almost contemplatively. Finally, over dinner that night after Oleg's departure, he spoke of it and Aleksei watched him and listened closely. \"Aleksei...why did he keep Rosa alive but kill my own...my Crystal?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately, that we may never know. Perhaps he tried the same...no, Yuri. Don't go down this path...it's not healthy. We must take this at face value...it's something that most likely none of us will ever understand. Besides, would you have wanted Crystal to live that way?\" Yuri shook his head 'no' and looked at Aleksei expectantly. As he leaned in to kiss Yuri, someone spoke from the dining room door and he sat back, quickly.\n\n\"Gah, get room why don't you?\" Ivan said, he'd begun to master the usage of conjunctions of late, though when he was angry it was a skill he quickly forgot. \"Yuri, before I forget, Ndigwe sent this, he said you are to wear it to protect yourself always. He said you are doctor and you know enough about protecting yourself, Aleksei, but he did send you one, too.\" He held out two ebony pendants that hung on string necklaces. Yuri put his own immediately, then frowned at Aleksei until he did the same. Content, he leaned on Aleksei's comforting warmth. \"How is she?\"\n\n\"Wild. Mad with grief. I almost lost her on transport flight here. The infection was deep and bad, necropsy had set into the flesh and I had to cut away more than...more than I wanted to. As a result, the words are not completely readable now. But, the point is she's at least healed if not completely healthy.\"\n\n\"I will go and feed her now. Better she gets accustomed to me and learns to accept me.\" Ivan said, and Yuri followed him curious what would happen, leaving a disgruntled Aleksei to clean up the dishes, though he would never complain. Ivan went into the kitchen and selected different fruit and cut it into pieces that would be small and easy to toss, then went down to the cistern. \"Stay outside, Yuri, she may be strong but she is not strong as I am. It will take lot more than she has to hurt me.\"\n\nYuri nodded, but stayed at the door, his eyes watching the slow progress of Rosa, who had run herself into an exhausted state but was continuing to move. The clothing Aleksei had put on her she had already torn off, but that was nothing to him, and he did not focus on her having nothing on. He heard Ivan say her same and she froze, then shot at him like a bullet, clinging to him just as Yuri had once done trying to bite his neck. Ivan threw her off and she charged again, but this time someone came out of nowhere, hitting her with a flying tackle, both of them snarling and snapping until Ivan regained his balance and could see what had happened.\n\nYuri was over Rosa, snarling, his teeth locked on her throat. For a time she snarled and growled her best, even attempting to kick him off with her legs, but eventually he increased the pressure enough she relaxed and submitted, whimpering pitifully. Ivan watched this display with interest, and then, a glance from Yuri told him to play along, so he tossed a cube of fruit to Yuri, who caught it deftly in his mouth and crunched it loudly, allowing the tart green apple-induced saliva to slobber out of his mouth. Rosa came close, sniffing, but Yuri growled and snapped driving her away with a yelp. He then returned and nodded to Ivan, who threw him three more cubes, which he ate in quick succession as Rosa hovered a safe distance away, her weight shifting from one hand to the other, her eyes watching their every movement.\n\nYuri moved in close and allowed Ivan to pat his head before he trotted away and exited the cistern, surprised to find Aleksei was standing without, watching. \"What the hell was that?\"\n\n\"Shh, just watch.\" Yuri said and they both leaned in against the glass as Rosa came tentatively closer to Ivan, sniffing and hunkering submissively. Ivan tossed some fruit and she failed to catch it, but ate it right off the filthy floor none-the-less. Ivan was able to feed her the remainder of the apple, and by the end she was sitting very near him in almost a stance like one might see from a begging dog. She looked towards the door where Yuri had gone and then at Ivan before approaching and allowing him to stroke her head twice, but only briefly before she backed away and resumed circling the enclosure restlessly.\n\n\"It's an animal thing. I just sort of knew somehow that all she needed was reassurance.\" Yuri explained as the three walked back up into the house-proper. They had bedrooms to set up and provisions to order delivered. Ivan had a feeling they were going to be there a very long time.\n\n**Chapter 42**\n\n_Middle-of-Nowhere, Africa_\n\nThe nomad children approached the strange looking tree in the distance with great caution, not sure what it was all about. The closer they got, the more alarmed one of the older children became, and he ran pelting to his father to tell him of the naked, red-skinned and filthy man's body they had just found tied to a post. This brought immediate action from the group of nomads, and many of the able bodied men came running to see what the children were telling them.\n\nThere, slumped against the post, hung a man with long, matted, dark hair. His skin was burnt to blisters in some places and had been carved in words they could not read on others. Shaking their heads, the men decided they should at least take him down and give him a decent burial. While they were discussing this, one of the nomad boys, only four, got brave and approached the man, his soft hand touching the bearded, burnt face. When he did the man stirred slightly, weakly, sending the children scattering, screaming in terror. His one brown eye fluttered open briefly as dozens of black-skinned natives closed in around him and he closed his eye back again. Surely, his sick and feverish mind thought, the demons had finally come to drag his soul to Hell.\n\n**Chapter 43**\n\n_Six Months Later_\n\nLife went on slowly at the compound in the Siberian wilderness, especially in the heart of winter when there was nothing to do but sit around day by day, trapped inside. One morning, when a gale-force blizzard was wreaking absolute havoc outside, Ivan stumbled into the kitchen still half-asleep, his mind only on one thing: coffee. He set up the coffee maker, then stood leaning on the bar and reading the national news on the tablet his uncle had sent him. Just as he poured his first cup he heard a crow of maniacal laughter and a buck-naked Yuri came sprinting into the kitchen.\n\nA bellow unlike anything Ivan had ever heard came from the direction of the room Yuri and Aleksei shared. \"Yuri! Where the hell are you?\"\n\n\"Oh hell. What did you do, Yuri?\" Ivan asked but Yuri was laughing too hard to answer and instead departed at a run, not the least bit bothered by the fact he wasn't wearing any clothes.\n\nPranks had become Yuri's new outlet for his cooped-up boredom. Just the previous week, he had shamed poor Aleksei, who never watched a horror movie in his life, into watching an old classic about a madman in a snowbound hotel. Then, two days later, Ivan had been in the kitchen fetching a snack when he saw Yuri creeping towards the bedroom he shared with Aleksei, carrying an axe. Ivan knew he wasn't intent on hurting Aleksei, he just wanted to scare the piss out of him, and likely would have.\n\n\"Nyet, Yuri.\" Ivan had said and Yuri jumped about a foot in the air and turned in surprise, an insolent pout immediately appearing on his face. \"Give me axe. I cannot let you be tearing up Uncle Oleg's house, he would take axe to my head if I did. Find another way to scare Aleksei, something that does not involve destroying house or accidental dismemberment.\"\n\nSo, Yuri streaking by laughing so hard he couldn't breathe really came as little surprise. Ivan sat on a stool at the center island and thought glumly about watching yet another adult movie. He had to do something, because he wasn't pleasant to be around when too much testosterone built up. His glumness was forgotten moments later in a desperate attempt not to laugh when Aleksei appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing only a towel around his waist. It was clear why he was so angry, his white-blonde hair, of which he was very vain and proud, was now a dark, brilliant, neon pink.\n\n\"I have not seen him.\" Ivan lied, blithely, his cheek bleeding inside his mouth from his efforts to keep from roaring with laughter.\n\n\"You know, somehow I just don't believe you.\" Aleksei said, then cursed and Ivan looked away quickly as Yuri flew by and grabbed the towel, displaying that the hair on his head wasn't the only hair that had gotten the pink-treatment. \"You little bastard get back here!\"\n\nIvan chuckled and went right back to reading the news, then glanced up as the alarm on the door beeped to announce someone had arrived. \"Oleg.\"\n\n\"Ivan. Did I hear someone shouting?\" Oleg asked, looking confused and then he threw himself against the wall as Yuri came through the kitchen, this time in full flight, still laughing so hard he was almost choking, still naked. \"Why is Yuri running around naked?\"\n\n\"I expect that question will answer itself in a few...\" Before Ivan could say seconds, Aleksei came into the room, breathing hard. He had recovered his towel, thankfully, and was clutching it around his slender waist. Oleg, who was still holding the door open pointed outside and Aleksei snarled and shot out into the cold, and Oleg slammed the door behind him.\n\n\"How long do you think it will take him to figure it out?\" Oleg asked as Ivan looked up at the door with interest, waiting for the answer to that very question.\n\n\"Figure it out or realize he made stupid decision?\" Ivan said, shaking his head as Aleksei, whose now-blue lips matched his pink hair nicely, came back in.\n\n\"Between the two of you I don't know who I wish would fuck off more.\" Aleksei grabbed the cup of coffee Ivan had just poured and headed towards his room.\n\n\"What happened to his hair?\" Oleg asked and Ivan shrugged as he roared with laughter. When he was finally able to get himself under control, he explained.\n\n\"Yuri. He is getting bored and he has started playing pranks. Most of them are harmless but some...some can be downright dangerous. Twice I have had to prevent someone getting hurt. Once it was me.\" Ivan sighed. \"Why did you come all this way? Could not be for social call.\"\n\n\"They found him, Ivan.\" Oleg said, softly, and Ivan held up a hand, then closed the sliding door to the kitchen and locked it.\n\n\"Keep your voice down and tell me everything you know.\" Ivan said, he was awake now, his troubling lack of female attention forgotten.\n\n\"Some nomads found him close to death apparently, two days after you left him. Not knowing who or what he was, they nursed him back to...well...they kept him alive.\" Oleg said, pouring himself a cup of coffee before continuing. \"He does not know who he is, nor does he know where he came from or how he ended up in Africa. Hell, I am not sure he even knows he is in Africa. Police picked him up wandering streets of Cape Town, took him to hospital. Mental evaluation was done and he was involuntarily committed. If you are wondering how I know, Omar told me. He called as soon as he had confirmed it was Dmitri.\"\n\n\"Let him stay there. Let him rot. I do not care. I knew I should have cut his fucking throat but Ndigwe and Omar would have left me to die with him. They would not see me murder my own brother, they said it would bring bad spirits on all of us or some shit. Superstitious, you know.\" Ivan shrugged.\n\n\"Ivan...they have discovered who he is. Russian Army had his DNA on file because of covert ops he ran during war, apparently. They contacted me because I am listed as last known living relative with stable address...you could not be listed because you were carnival worker and moved around constantly, no address. African hospital cannot handle him...he is dangerous...and we cannot bring him back to Moscow. Someone would certainly recognize him sooner or later. What should we do?\"\n\n\"Put him in asylum in America. I can have Aleksei draw up paperwork for him...how long do we have before he is released?\" Ivan asked.\n\n\"One week at most. He attacked nurse, tore her to pieces inside and out before they were able to subdue him.\" Oleg sighed heavily. \"Only reason he is not being hanged is it was nurse's fault. Da, I know, that sort of thing is never woman's fault, but she did not follow protocol. Women nurses were not supposed to go into ward with men. Ever. They do not even allow women doctors. No one knows why she was there, but one other nurse said she had 'thing' for Dmitri. Again, how she saw him or knew him, no one seems to know.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for her. He can be very persuasive and even more violent. Perhaps he won her over somehow...maybe by flirting; we may never know. In that case, we are going to need decisive action.\" Ivan said, leaning on the marble top of the center island. Oleg's satellite phone rang and he went outside to answer it, so Ivan unlocked the kitchen door only to nearly get bowled over by a clothed Yuri who was now using him as a human shield. \"Yuri I am not...your...bodyguard.\" Unable to rid himself of Yuri, who simply turned with him, Ivan hopped up on the center island and sat, cross-legged. Aleksei appeared in the doorway, also dressed, and looking as stern as Ivan had ever seen him. Come to think of it, he realized, he'd never seen Aleksei acting stern, let alone, angry.\n\n\"You have been very bad boy, Yuri.\" He said and Ivan rolled his eyes. Yuri pretended to have nowhere to run and allowed Aleksei to slam him against the center island. After trying not to watch them kissing for the next five minutes, Ivan finally spoke.\n\n\"For love of God, I am not fucking centerpiece here for decoration. Would you get fucking room already?\" Aleksei looked up and blushed almost as pink as his hair. \"And Aleksei, I need to see you...as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"Won't be soon I can promise you that.\" Yuri said as Aleksei shoved him out of the kitchen just as Oleg came back in.\n\n\"Ivan why are you sitting up there?\" He looked at the open kitchen door. \"Are they still chasing each other?\"\n\n\"Nyet, I think is safe to assume they are...making up.\" Ivan said, then hopped down. \"Aleksei will talk to us soon.\"\n\n\"I have to go back to Moscow. Talk to him, use tablet to contact me, is secure, and we will set something in motion. How is...woman?\" He asked and Ivan motioned to him to follow. \"Oh, I like this, I had never considered it. Perhaps when you have gotten her better I will fill it and stock it with fish and I can fish from up here.\"\n\nIvan shook his head, amused but relieved all the same. He had worried about his uncle's reaction when he saw the newly installed observation window that allowed Ivan to keep an eye on Rosa at all times. Particularly when Yuri was in the tank with her. Ivan pointed towards her as she squatted monkey-like and gnawed on some fruit Yuri had given her the previous night. At least the hair Dmitri had shaved off was growing back so she wasn't putting on so much of a show with her improper squatting. He never understood the attraction of shaving off a woman's pubic hair, to him it had something to do with childhood, that lack of hair, and he disliked it. He longed to stroke that soft, curly down, and felt something stirring and had to change his train of thought since Oleg was right beside him.\n\n\"How is she progressing?\" He asked and Ivan shrugged.\n\n\"Slowly. Dmitri really did number on her. But Yuri thinks there is hope, as he says, look at him. Other than few missteps along way, he has done very well.\" Ivan said, flopping down on the sofa. \"God Oleg, I need woman.\"\n\n\"I can have one flown in...\" Oleg said, then glanced at Ivan and gave his nephew a sad nod. \"You need your woman. I understand...I wish that I could just make her better, you know?\"\n\n\"As do I.\"\n\n**Chapter 44**\n\nAleksei shifted nervously in the spacious back seat of the touring sedan that had picked him up at the Cape Town airport. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the way things were happening, but he also knew the importance of this ruse. The hospital loomed up ahead, Ivan had familiarized him with its appearance and exactly where and in what ward Dmitri could be found, so, when the car dropped him off Aleksei walked in purposefully. To his surprise, he was met just inside the air conditioned first floor by a very pretty young woman who smiled up at him with more than professional interest. He returned the smile, but not the interest.\n\n\"You must be Dr. Kruchev?\" She offered her hand and he shook it gently, telling her just how uninterested he was without saying a word. She pulled her hand away and looked a little disappointed, though her demeanor remained that of a professional. \"Right this way Doctor. I must say, he has been in quite a state since we told him we'd found his doctor. He seems almost...happy.\"\n\n\"That's great. I don't know how he got from Dubai all the way to South Africa...\" Aleksei started their cover story as they boarded the elevator, she pressed the button and he noted what floor he was on in case he had to flee.\n\n\"He was in Dubai? I...we didn't...he was found wandering in the slums...here, in Cape Town.\" She was confused, good, Aleksei smiled inwardly but spoke in a tone that was as genuine as he could make it.\n\n\"Yes, Ms.\" He checked her identification, \"Excuse me, Doctor Johansson. He was institutionalized there in a health club of a facility, but the place was shut down. The sheik who owned it was apparently ousted and that was that. I was not notified, Mr. Sergeivich was released without any warning, and there should have been warning because as you know, he is dangerous.\"\n\n\"Oh, I think the nurse he savaged can attest to that.\" The young doctor said, a grim smile on her face. \"I am, of course, not his acting physician, but I am on the board that handles cases such as his. Ah, here we are.\"\n\nShe ushered him into a board room full of more suits than he'd seen at Sergei's last dinner party, and showed him to an empty chair. Once introductions were made, they walked Aleksei through all that they had found out. Then he was shown full-body photographs of the scars, scars Aleksei had not known about, scars from wounds only Ivan could have inflicted. He felt the blood drain from his face and the head of the hospital board spoke up.\n\n\"You seem quite shocked, Dr. Kruchev...are you alright?\" The venerable older man with a glossy shine to his bare dome that looked rather like an egg in a curly gray nest.\n\n\"He didn't...who did that to him? He did not have any scars other than his eye when last I visited him in Dubai.\" Aleksei took on an air of outrage, which he honestly felt because he hadn't known Ivan had done this and as a doctor, as a humanitarian, it angered him. Regardless of who and what Dmitri was, no one deserved this brutality. \"I demand to know what has happened to this man!\"\n\n\"We do not know, any more than we knew what his name was until we ran his DNA through the missing person's database. All we know is two men named Ivan and Yuri are involved in some way...though I can tell you we did extensive tests on him and found he was never sodomized, at least, not recently. He seems to believe he has been; he has attempted suicide four times, once getting close enough his heart stopped. Since, he has been on the locked ward where he is under 24 hour video surveillance. Despite being heavily sedated he just...doesn't stop moving. What can you tell me about how he came to be under your care?\"\n\nAleksei launched into an explanation of _Dedovschina_ , painting Dmitri as a victim rather than a perpetrator. Then, he also poured it on about PTSD from the war, among other issues that he had suffered from that only worsened due to the disorder. Finally, he explained that he had decided that Mr. Sergeivich was a threat to himself as much as others and he had made the decision to institutionalize him. He could almost see the dollar signs in their eyes when he mentioned that Dmitri's father was a Russian politician, and then the disappointment when he informed them he would be taking his patient to America, closer to where he now practiced.\n\n**Chapter 45**\n\nIvan breathed in deeply, a rumbling sound coming from his chest as he caught a scent on the air he did not recognize. He did not recognize it, but he did like it and he had been smelling it for days now, though he could not tell where it was coming from. Kicking his feet up on the enormous padded stool/table in front of him, he flicked boredly through the channels, occasionally looking down on Yuri and Rosa. Yuri was teaching her how to use a chair, and it seemed to not be going well, because she kept tugging at Yuri's arm insistently. Finally, Yuri gave her some fruit as a reward and left, jogging up the service ramp and into the living room.\n\n\"Ivan...I need to talk to you.\" His face wore an expression Ivan could read clearly, Yuri was excited about something, but he was speaking cautiously. \"Rosa has indicated to me that she...that she wishes to mate.\"\n\n\"Little bastard.\" Ivan snarled, sitting upright now, his body tight with rage and pent up testosterone.\n\n\"Can you not smell her on the air? But I am curious...you said she cannot have children, right?\" Yuri said, idly, and Ivan observed his posture. He was relaxed, calm, not seeming to be on edge as if waiting for Ivan to allow him to 'mate' Rosa.   \n\"Nyet, she had procedure. Is reversible but I do not think Dmitri knew about it...and she obviously cannot have had it undone...no doctor would have agreed to do so in her current mental state.\"\n\n\"Well, either he's shooting blanks or she's unable to get pregnant because she is without a doubt ovulating. I can smell it on her. If she wasn't your woman I'd have already mated her.\" Yuri held up his hand to stop Ivan's outburst before it started. \"I want you to introduce yourself as her mate. Tonight. Now if you'd like...have you showered today?\"\n\n\"Nyet...need to if I am going to...\" Ivan said but Yuri shook his head and he stopped, his brows furrowing. \"But is nasty, Yuri, I have worked out all morning and I smell of old sweat and...\"\n\n\"And that will attract her like a fly to honey, Ivan. Trust me. That sweat has pheromones in it.\" Yuri stood and said, \"Well, do you want to take a stab at this or not?\"\n\n\"What do I have to do?\" Ivan asked, standing and looking down at Rosa, who was moving back and forth at the door, whimpering.\n\n\"You'll have to go in naked.\" Yuri said, hesitantly, when Ivan started pulling off his shirt, he nodded and continued. \"Go in and sit on the floor. Let her come to you, do not pursue her. When she presents...and believe me, she will, you must mate her immediately. Remember, this is not about pleasure to her, it is about reproduction.\"\n\n\"And if she refuses me?\" Ivan asked, he was now wearing only his boxer-briefs, standing at the cistern door. \"What then?\"\n\n\"I doubt she will, but if she does we will continue to try. She may become a little...clingy...after you mate, so try to let her down easy when you depart. It would be best if you wait until she is asleep.\" Yuri said, keeping himself out of her line of sight at the door.\n\n\"Can I sit on her bed? I feel bad slamming her back into concrete floor...\" Ivan said and Yuri shook his head, much to Ivan's dismay.\n\n\"Unfortunately no. That 'bed' will become her 'nest' once you are mated. She will protect it with her life...but we will talk on that later. Of course, she may invite you and then it's okay. She was trying to drag me to it earlier. I refused and came to get you. I do not want her, Ivan, she is your mate...your woman. Go...and good luck!\" Yuri pulled back the heavy bar that kept the door closed as Ivan pulled off the last stitch of clothing, then walked right into the cistern.\n\nRosa fled from him when she saw him, walking upright and so unlike Yuri had been. Ivan did not turn his head to watch her as he sat on the floor in the center of the room, the concrete hard and uncomfortable against his naked backside. He could see Yuri watching from the observation window, but his focus was on Rosa. She crept closer, sniffing the air, small and submissive whimpering coming from her. Ivan knew better than trust that. The moment he tried to touch her she'd attack, so he heeded Yuri's advice, for once, and sat perfectly still. She brushed against his back and it was like she'd flicked a switch, his body reacted immediately, despite his trying to stop it. He'd been so long without a woman he'd almost forgot how one tasted or felt.\n\nHe felt her sniffing at the back of his neck, her nose pushing his long blonde hair aside, and then her tongue trailing up the sensitive scar tissue there. Then, to his utter astonishment, she pulled on his arm, dragging him as he stood and followed her, showing him her 'nest' as Yuri put it. He had no idea how to react to this and, when he looked up, saw that Yuri had disappeared, clearly not wanting to observe what was about to happen. What Ivan hoped was about to happen, anyway.\n\nWhen he did not move forward, Rosa got behind him and pushed him until he turned and sat on the edge of the bare mattress, suddenly feeling nervous, though he had no idea why. Nervousness had certainly never occurred when he'd been in bed with a woman before. Growling her frustration, a sound that brought a slight smile to Ivan's lips despite the situation, Rosa pushed him onto his back even though he'd understood already that she wanted him to lie down, he let her do everything so as not to push her. Then she nudged at him until he was in the middle of the bed, painfully aware of his enormous erection as he was literally _in_ pain it was so hard from under-use and it was so enormous he thought he could have hung the Russian flag on it. Proudly.\n\nRosa hopped on him and just, sat. Sinking him all the way in in one swift motion. Ivan groaned at the feeling. Whatever had happened to her, she didn't feel any different than the first time he'd been with her all that time ago. The very act of sliding onto him made her orgasm, he could feel the fluttering inside of her as he moved quickly and flipped so that she was under him, her legs firmly wrapped around his thighs, pulling him in as deep as she could. The animal in Ivan took over, and for what he would later discover had been hours, he went at her.\n\nHe remembered spilling into her the first time and the last, but couldn't remember anything in between. When the mating was complete, she curled up beside him and fell asleep almost immediately, which was good, his lower regions were already beginning to itch from their combined juices drying on him. When he came out, he saw that Yuri had cleaned up his clothes already, but kindly left a towel for him to wrap around his waist. He did so, bounding up the ramp feeling buoyant and exhausted all at once.\n\n\"It went well, I take it?\" Yuri smiled at him knowingly as he entered the den from the cistern access ramp, a broad smile on his face.\n\n\"Da, very well. Thank you, Yuri.\" Ivan said, then glanced down at the towel. \"I need shower. How long was I...?\"\n\n\"Four hours.\" Yuri smirked, then stood and slouched off to his own empty bed. Ivan went the opposite direction, as his was the Master bedroom on the far side of the house.\n\n**Chapter 46**\n\nIt was three months before Aleksei was in contact with the safe house, two months longer than Ivan's instructions. He was still brimming with righteous anger at Ivan's mistreatment of the unfortunate Dmitri so much so that even when he reached Russia and as he waited on layover for a month before hopping a train to Siberia, he did not call in. So, when he arrived at Oleg's safe house, he was a little disconcerted at the silence that greeted him, at first thinking he might have missed something. Then, after leaving his boots in the kitchen entryway and then stepping into the house proper, he heard both Ivan and Yuri laughing and turned in every direction but the cistern. Until he realized their laughter was coming from the cistern.\n\nWalking towards the glass observation window, the wrong impression of the situation on his mind, he felt as if it were a bad dream. The very idea that Ivan had let Yuri join him with Rosa, in _that_ way, so when he came to the cistern window, he stared down in disbelief. There was a table with four chairs there, with food laid out for all, and even a fourth place set. Rosa was sitting next to Ivan and, wonder of wonders, she was wearing clothing, though from the look of it she wasn't very comfortable. Ivan and Yuri were teaching her how to use utensils, and she was catching on, though she seemed terribly messy at it. For a long while Aleksei observed until suddenly Rosa's pretty face turned towards him and she snarled a warning. In an instant, faster than Aleksei had known he could run, Yuri was up the ramp and wrapped around him as Ivan tugged at Rosa's arm to get her attention because she was staring.\n\nFinally, Yuri led him down into the cistern where Rosa immediately tried to retreat, but Ivan wrapped a comforting arm around her. \"Nyet, Rosa, this Yuri's mate...Alex.\"\n\n\"Ah...lex.\" She looked thoughtful, then her face lit up. \"Doctor...Alex.\"\n\n\"That...that's right.\" Aleksei beamed as Yuri heaped his plate full of salad, which was the only vegan thing on their menu. After the scant pickings in the train station and hotel anything looked good and Aleksei dug in quite rudely. When he was sated, he leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs, careful not to bump Rosa.\n\n\"I think, if it's okay with you Ivan...I want to take Aleksei up for the night...\" Yuri said and Ivan nodded.\n\n\"Da, I imagine so.\" Ivan and Yuri carried all the dishes upstairs, refusing to let Aleksei help, and loaded the dishwashing unit. Ivan grabbed a fifth of vodka out of the fridge and Yuri eyed him speculatively. \"What? She has been refusing me for week now. Have to do something to dull it down so I do not push her away.\"\n\n\"Refusing...but Ivan...\" Yuri said and Aleksei looked as if he'd been hit by lightning.\n\n\"But...but that means she's pregnant...right Yuri?\" The doctor said, turning to Yuri, though it was hardly necessary, as Yuri was so close to him they looked to be joined at the hip.\n\n\"It...should...but...\" Yuri said and Aleksei immediately went to his bag and grabbed a bottle of pills, dumping one into Ivan's hand. \"Give her this to keep her calm, get me a blood sample. I will find out tomorrow. It's a simple test these days...and it might be more possible than you or the Russian military doctors think. Yuri, I need to talk to you, now. Ivan, I'll need to talk to you first chance we get tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Da, goodnight.\" He gave them both a knowing smile and departed, walking back down the ramp to the cistern, where he spent most nights, Yuri would later explain to Aleksei as he caught him up on the goings on at the compound during Aleksei's absence.\n\nNow that they were in their room, though, he was all about being as physically close to Aleksei as he could get, and then some. \"You want shower?\" He asked, his voice a little hoarse with his need. \"It has been terrible, being here, Rosa was in heat, and then I could smell sex on Ivan every morning when he would come up to shower and use workout room...\"\n\n\"I...\" Before Aleksei could say 'da' or 'nyet', Yuri had him pinned on the bed, sitting on him, a growl escaping him, and growling was something he had been less and less given to do of late. \"Yuri...\" was the last intelligible word he managed for nearly three hours.\n\nAfter, as Aleksei lay with his back against the padded headboard, it was clear what Oleg designed this house and these rooms to be used for, he stared at Yuri, who was lying on his stomach, naked, across the foot of the bed. He had his head turned away from Aleksei, his long black hair falling down the tattooed skin of his back and arms in mussed up waves. For a while, Aleksei watched him without moving, so that when he finally did stir, Yuri jumped and turned to him at once.\n\n\"Come and sit beside me, Yuri-love, I need to talk to you...and it is cold in here, you will catch a fever after sweating so much.\" Aleksei scolded gently and Yuri smiled at him as he obeyed.\n\n\"Yes, doctor.\" He slipped under the blankets and twined himself gracefully around Aleksei. \"Why are you so tense, my lover?\"\n\n\"I am about to tell you...I can only hope to have my answer on at least one question this very night.\"\n\n**Chapter 47**\n\nI have not been completely honest with you about my whereabouts, Yuri, but understand, there were some things I wanted to share with you before I tell Ivan. Why? Because Ivan, I suspect, is going to be furious, and I cannot speak to how he is going to behave. Let me tell the story, please, and then you can be the judge of things. I was angry and desperate, and I made a decision that will ultimately change all of our lives. Forever.\n\nI had just flown back into Moscow, and I was at the main train hub on the north side, ready to catch a train back here. How long ago? About three weeks, to be honest. Well, give me a minute and I will explain all. I was quiet during your story, when you told it in Italy, now be quiet during mine. Thank you.\n\nAs I was saying, I was standing in the train hub when I decided to go somewhere I hadn't been in a very long time. Home. As in, my old hometown, the place where I, no, where _we_ were born. So, I boarded a train not back to the station that would be closest to here, but rather, a train to the poor farming village I was born and lived the first eight years of my life in. It hadn't changed much, that old village, unless you count that it had gotten poorer and far less populated.\n\nMost of the buildings were bombed or burned out, but not the house we lived in, no. It was still standing, as tiny and gray and drab as it had been. The door was gone, so I just walked in, not expecting to find anyone and thus, not disappointed to find it empty. In fact, it looked as if it hadn't been occupied since my mother left her then-boyfriend and moved to Moscow to be closer to Sergei.\n\nThere were only two rooms in that house, if you can wrap your head around my living in such a place; it had my mother and Lavrov's bedroom. Lavrov was his last name, he was from the Ukraine, an immigrant to Russia, if one can ever get used to saying that, even after a century of it being so. Of course there was my own room but that was also the den, kitchen and dining room. There wasn't even an indoor bathroom, even in modern times. We bathed in the family room, my mother helped me and I was sent outside or to my mother's room while she and Lavrov washed up when it was their turn.\n\nI had a fairly happy childhood until I was about eight, when I started to give an, indication, many indications, that I was not like the other boys. By then, my little brother had arrived, a huge baby with a nasty temper and hair as black as jet. Much to Lavrov's disapproval, I was more interested in playing nursemaid to him than I was in playing soldier with the other boys. That, they said, they being Lavrov and the other boys in the village, was what we were all born to be. I did not understand that at the time and I did not care. Finally, one night when my mother had gone off with the baby somewhere, at the time I was not sure any more than I am now where, Lavrov cornered me. And he proceeded beat me nearly senseless, convinced he could beat the girlishness out of me.\n\nBy the time my mother got back, I was unrecognizable from the swelling. She grabbed me in one arm and the baby in the other and fled, the baby, then two years old, screaming his temperamental lungs out the whole way, screeching for his papa. By some miracle, she got us all on a train to Moscow that very same night, and we never saw Lavrov again. Well, that is how I'd like it to have ended. Truthfully, I did see him again. Once.\n\nI was sixteen at the time, and it was just before the Americans brought the war to Russian soil. Just before my mother died. Lavrov who, I at that time assumed my mother must have been secretly married to, else why she would care I had no idea, was in a car accident and seriously injured. It was that day, standing by his hospital bed, she made me vow that I would care for him until the day I found someone I wanted to marry. And so, with that, I get into my strange trip and why it took me so long to get back home.\n\n**Chapter 48**\n\nAleksei stood in front of the tiny house and gave a dejected sigh. He noticed locals watching him curiously and realized how oddly out of place he must seem in his designer clothing with an expensive hired car and driver. His entire tour of the house, which was now infested with rats and falling down piece-by-piece, he was looking over his shoulder, expecting someone to approach and question him. No one did, not any of the adults, anyway. It wasn't until he departed from the house that he realized that all of the houses on this street, and the next, and from the look of it the next, too, were seemingly identical. Based on the slabs of concrete and few walls left of most, that was.\n\nThis had always perplexed him greatly, because they were placed with such precision in both position and size. For the moment, though, something else had captured his attention. His other brother, the baby that had barely been two when they fled, the more he thought about it, he realized he didn't even know the child's name. But he should, and he knew he should. It chewed at his mind and he felt something between guilt and a little bit of grief, for the child had died soon after he, Aleksei, had been sent to boarding school in England.\n\nHe changed his mind on leaving, and returned to the house. Once back inside, he sat on the floor, unmindful of the years of dust and other things, including broken glass and dead roaches, his head clenched in his hands. The baby. What had the baby's name been? What had happened to that child? He noticed a small girl just then, watching him from the open back door of the house, her brown eyes almost comically wide in her young face.\n\n\"Hello there, little one.\" He greeted her and she came out from behind the wall she'd been peeking around. Her worn, too-small, and filthy clothing made Aleksei wince almost as much as her bare feet in the chill morning made him shudder. \"Where are your parents?\"\n\n\"My mama and papa are dead, sir. I live with my grandmother, just across street.\" She was still watching him warily, clearly her experiences with strangers had not been kind. \"You are not supposed to be in here, sir.\"\n\n\"I grew up here, well, until I was eight years old.\" Aleksei confessed to her. \"I wonder, your grandmother...did she know family who lived here?\"\n\n\"Da, but she says they are all dead. Come with me, if you are who you say...she says she used to watch first born here from time to time...\" that was all it took, Aleksei was on his feet at once, and allowed himself to be led to the adjacent house. \"Is that your car, sir?\"\n\n\"Nyet, is rental. I do not have car. Do not need one.\" He winked at her mischievously and she led him on, though she was smiling now. As they walked up he noticed the concrete front walk was more weeds than stone anymore, but somewhere deep down he felt something tugging insistently at his brain. A memory. But what memory? The girl knocked and announced to her grandmother they were coming in and Aleksei breathed the rich smells of Russian food cooking. Now the memory was right on the surface and, when he set eyes on the little old lady, he had to fight back tears. Now he remembered. The lady had often watched him, usually when Lavrov was in one of his many drunken rages.\n\n\"He says he grew up in house across street, grandmama, I told him everyone that lived there is dead, but he insists is true.\" The girl was chattering, when the old woman held up a hand, she fell silent immediately.\n\n\"Tell me, Mina, because my eyes have failed me, tell me color of this man's eyes.\" She said and Aleksei stooped immediately so that the girl could have a good look.\n\n\"Why...they are...purple! Is this boy you told me about, grandmama?\" Mina began chattering again, asking questions faster than even Aleksei could think.\n\n\"Mina, guest needs to talk, I think. Is not kind of talk little girls need to be hearing. Why do you not go and play next door? There is good girl.\" How she knew the girl had slipped out, Aleksei had no idea, from the look of her thick, white cataracts she was stone blind. \"Sit down, Aleksandr, we have much to talk about.\"\n\n\"Is Aleksei...my name is Aleksei,\" He said, taking a seat on the old couch, wincing as a spring poked at him through his dress pants. \"I do not remember my name being Aleksandr.\"\n\n\"Da, your mother did things right when she took you and your brother away. I cannot think what he was named at time, but I think your mama must have changed it. She hated that name. Your father picked name and still I cannot remember, you know, your father was over moon with him.\" She fumbled for a glass of water near her elbow but found it before Aleksei could assist her. \"Your mother was very young when they picked her up on prostitution charges. Was not uncommon back then, alcoholic parents or dead, either way, pretty girl like her learned best way to make money fast, she had no other choice, you know? I think she was...fifteen maybe.\"\n\n\"So young.\" Aleksei said, remembering how much she had aged, by the time she passed. Even with Sergei's kindness he had known there were some wounds his mother bore deep in her heart that had never healed. Now he understood just what they were. \"Too young.\"\n\n\"Da, too young. Government fattened her up little bit, made sure she was disease free and, when she was sixteen, they set her up here in breeding camp. Young women here never knew who they would be assigned to, some got decent enough young men...but not your mother. She ended up with that Vitaly Lavrov, Ukrainian bastard that he was,\" She paused and spit on the dirt floor in a show of disrespect for Lavrov, then continued. \"First baby came quickly, everything went well until then. You were first baby, and beautiful as baby could be. Those purple eyes and that white hair...I told your mama you were gift from God, bound to do great things for many people. But you were so small, born early, you know, Aleksei nodded, though he had not known, not even considering she could not see his gesture. Government wanted only strong, big males, and you did not fit profile, so they informed your mother you did not count. She would have to give them two more before she was free to leave program. Was not uncommon, some women had ten or more with so many men I would lose count of comings and goings.\"\n\n\"My God...\" Aleksei felt sick, but continued to listen, raptly.\n\n\"Then, one night when you were just wee thing, your mama came over pale as sheet and asked me to keep you for night. You were, I guess, six years old...do you not remember?\" She did not wait for his answer, just continued on as if she'd been waiting all this time to tell her story. \"I think entire neighborhood heard her that night, screaming for mercy, though I never knew all of what happened. I ended up caring for you for solid week before she finally came back. There were bruises on her face and she kept arms hidden from me, but I knew Lavrov had really hurt her. Even after week of recuperating, she could barely walk. Nine months later along came that brother of yours...what was his name...\"\n\n\"That is what I am trying to find out...\" Aleksei said, holding his breath and watching, the image of the wailing two year old with his curly, black hair as they fled this old village for Moscow. He waited, the knot in his chest so painful he was nearly in tears.\n\n\"I remember, his name was Viktor...that was it.\" Whatever Aleksei had been expecting, this was not it, and he fell back hard against the back of the sofa, stunned beyond rational thought. The only thing that repeated over and over in his head was _Viktor is Dmitri 's middle name_. \"Government came to collect him when he would have been five years old, but your mama had run off long before that. They beat Lavrov to pulp and left him to die in street for dishonoring contract he signed. I believe they had intended to deport him to Ukraine, but after that he was no good to anyone.\"\n\n\"Where is he at now?\" Aleksei asked, his voice quiet with his shock. How in the hell was he going to explain this nugget to Ivan? \"Lavrov, I mean.\"\n\n\"In nursing home he has been in since they beat him.\" The old woman took another drink of water, then leaned back. \"I am tired now, but I am glad you made it safely. If ever you need anything, you know where to find me.\"\n\n\"Da, I know. You should know, I am doctor now.\" Aleksei said, but she was already snoring. He sighed and left, nodding to Mina, who was playing with an old, filthy half-hairless doll. She waved at him from the front stoop on which she sat, and then went back to playing. As soon as this business with Lavrov was finished he intended to get that child, and her grandmother, out of this slum.\n\nBut at least now, he knew, he would have to seek out the skeleton in his closet, his mother's former partner, he silently thanked God she hadn't been dumb enough to love the miserable bastard, Vitaly Lavrov. Aleksei hated the man with a passion, but this had to be handled or he would never be able to move forward in his life. Not because Lavrov would hold him back, but rather, a vow to his mother, which to him was sacred, would. He climbed into the waiting touring-sedan, hired at the local train station, and gave the driver the address of his next stop.\n\nThe building was as gray and drab as he remembered, though perhaps a little more careworn as it had been many long and glorious years since last he had been here. When he signed in at the front desk, the nurse gave him a pitying look, and he knew things had not changed even a fraction of an inch. Still Lavrov was a hateful bastard. But, his resolve was set, so he marched right to the room and stood at the foot of the bed of the man he had hated his entire life. Here, however, he found a creature to be pitied, not hated. Lavrov had only been in his early twenties when he'd been in what at the time his mother had told him, Aleksei, was a car wreck, so he was barely edging towards fifty now.\n\n\"You, bring me some water.\" He croaked at Aleksei, and Aleksei complied, smoothly. He was not here for a fight. \"Who are you? Do I know you? You look familiar.\"\n\n\"I am man who has paid for your care for last thirteen years. You were my mother's boyfriend until...\"\n\n\"Until I beat you for being gay, da, I remember now. You have not changed in looks and I am willing to bet you are still buggering little boys.\" Lavrov snickered and Aleksei bristled.\n\n\"I do not...I have never harmed children, sick fuck. Unlike you, if half stories I have heard are true.\" That got him red in the face, Aleksei smirked inwardly. \"I have come to tell you I am getting married...and that you will not have my financial support from this day forward.\"\n\n\"Ah, so you came back to spit on old Vitaly, I see how it is.\" The man chuckled dryly and shook his head. \"Where is big strapping boy? What sort of man did he grow up to be? He was proper son! I was proud to call him mine.\"\n\n\"But he was not your son. His father is...was Sergei...\" Aleksei started, thinking the man meant Ivan, but Lavrov interrupted.\n\n\"Da, I know who he was. Weakling politician.\" He took another sip of water. \"But he was not that boy's father, nyet. I was. Same as I was your father; you just got white hair from your mother's side. Dark haired boy got dark hair from me. Your whore mother did not want either of you to know I was his father, but she is dead, so what is point of hiding now? I am soon to join her in Hell.\"\n\n\"My mother was no whore. Say whatever you want, but she was not whore.\" Aleksei said, keeping his voice as calm as he could. He did not want to remember his mother that way. Not even after what the old woman had told him. \"And dark haired 'boy' is dead. He died not long after my...our mother died.\"\n\n\"Da, she was whore. They picked up young women off street corners, out of alleyways, even out of convents. Breeders, they called them. Then they brought in men like myself, who volunteered. Contract was drawn up between man and woman. Once they had produced two good offspring, they were paid handsome fee and released from their duties.\" He paused for another sip of water as Aleksei sat heavily in a chair, resigned to listen to Lavrov's monologue, however unpleasant it was. Something told him he needed to hear this, so he forced himself, however unpleasant it might be, to pay attention. \"But your mother, she would never allow me to claim second boy, or I would have been released. True, my plan was to find another breeding arrangement, nothing like free pussy with no strings attached. I did not even have to be responsible for upbringing of child. Military paid for it.\" He paused again, and Aleksei noticed he looked tired, pained even.\n\n\"She claimed that politician fathered third child, white haired boy, big boy like you should have been. Nyet, you should have been girl...I always said this. Politician even took responsibility for it, but I knew truth all along. Even if I could not get my hands on that boy.\" He stopped now and pressed his morphine button twice.\n\n\"But...how do you know? How can you be so sure second boy was yours, too, if the third wasn't?\" Aleksei asked, almost certain he didn't want to know the answer. Lavrov confirmed his suspicion easily as if it were no big deal.\n\n\"I raped her, did I not? Stupid whore was not living up to contract. We had agreement. Two children in three years. I could move on to next woman and, when both of you were of an age, you could be weaned off breast, then military would come and take you. They deemed you worthless, I got second boy on her and he was so mean, so demanding, she did not want to try again.\" He sighed heavily. \"But then things went all to hell and breeding program was shut down for time. When it reopened, you were six years old and Viktor was two, but your mother refused to live up to bargain, saying three years had passed...not to mention government would not take you. Too small, too weak, they said... But I was paid for two children and felt...obligated...to do my duty. Living with her was not easy when she was so fucking beautiful and so fucking frigid at same time. So, one night after she carried you across street, I gave her good riding that she never forgot...and our third son was conceived.\"\n\n\"Can you prove this?\" Aleksei was standing now. He had heard enough and wanted to be on his way, though his violet eyes followed the hand of the man, which was now digging in his bedside table.\n\n\"Here, key opens lock-box in bank in Ukraine. You will find all you need to know there.\" He laid back, pressed his morphine button a third time and fell asleep.\n\n**Chapter 49**\n\nIvan listened to the thunder high above the cistern, intermingled with the sounds of rain and occasional soft snoring from Rosa, who had been asleep with her head on his arm just long enough his arm was beginning to get numb. He closed his eyes, and must have drifted off, because when he woke, his arm was stinging like a thousand ants were biting it and Rosa was sitting on him, shaking him gently and growling. Ivan's eye's popped open immediately and he noticed how completely and utterly dark it was, his mind trying to rationalize this. The compound was powered by enormous diesel generators, surplus, purchased from the military after the war for quite a steal. Those generators only failed for two reasons: no fuel...or sabotage. Since there was never any shortage of fuel that only left one option, and the realization of this immediately had him sitting up, pushing Rosa off of him gently.\n\nAleksei and Yuri had left for America the previous morning, before Aleksei could share with him some secret that seemed devastating to the gentle blonde. But there had been the phone call from the American facility holding Dmitri, informing Aleksei he was to be released if Aleksei could not find alternative placement for the violent man. So, Yuri had begged, pleaded, cajoled and finally pouted until Aleksei had relented and agreed to let Yuri accompany him on his trip. As Ivan saw someone far too big to be Oleg or one of the many security men, silhouetted in the observation window, he knew it was for the best. Dmitri had already been released. He was here. Ivan sat bolt upright. \"Rosa, hide.\"\n\nShe did not question this order, as she was female and accepted him as her mate and protector, when he gave such an order she obeyed immediately. Ivan ran for the cistern door, pulling it open just as Dmitri reached it, intent on locking them both in and probably drowning them by turning on the water and flooding the enormous concrete tank. Before Dmitri could pull a gun or even speak, Ivan clobbered him in the face, knocking him back, but not stunning him like Ivan had expected. Instead, Dmitri spit out a mouthful of blood and charged, roaring.\n\nIt was, as fights went, one of the best Ivan had ever been in. Had he not wanted to kill his opponent, he would probably have congratulated him and thanked him for the honor of such worthy battle after the fact. The den area, their common room, in the light of the morning sun, was utterly decimated. Both men were flat on the floor, Ivan breathing heavily, laughing painfully, and bleeding profusely from half a dozen knife wounds and a few bullet wounds, Dmitri was out cold, a busted plasma screen television still lying over his head, sparking ominously. The storm had, Ivan discovered when the television had sparked, flooded the generator. Once the rain had calmed, the generator had kicked back on, thankfully. Ivan dragged himself to his feet, grimacing at the sight of one of the guards, dead just outside in the kitchen entryway.\n\nWith a grunt, and good deal of straining, he wrestled Dmitri onto his shoulders and fireman-carried him down to the cistern, dropping him hard on the concrete floor. \"Rosa, come with me. Rosa?\" She was nowhere to be found, which concerned Ivan more than anything. He took care to seal the cistern door and went looking for her, drawn to the sound of her frightened whimpers and the sound of someone else speaking from the meeting room. How she knew to go there, Ivan would never know.\n\n\"Dear girl,\" He heard Oleg's concerned voice, \"How is it you are calling me? How did you get out of cistern? Where are my nephews?\"\n\nRosa grunted and pointed, then her face lit up as Ivan watched her, so weak he was barely leaning on the door facing upright. She put her right hand over her eye and he saw Oleg stand up.\n\n\"I am on way.\" Oleg said and the video call ended.\n\n\"Rosa...Rosa you beautiful, brave woman. Go...and lock...kitchen door to outside. All you have to do is...close....\" Ivan felt the world spin and then saw it go dark.\n\n**Chapter 50**\n\n\"What do you mean 'already released'?\" Aleksei nearly screamed into the phone, waking Yuri, who sat bolt upright looking terrified. \"Well that's just great. You do know there is a victim who is still alive that he is sexually obsessed with. Now she is unprotected and you...god damn the lot of you.\"\n\n\"They released him? But I thought...\" Yuri said, but Aleksei was getting dressed while dialing frantically on his mobile.\n\n\"Come on Ivan...pick up pick up pick up...\" He chanted over and over as he held the phone on his shoulder with his chin so he could tie his shoes. When there was no answer, he slammed the phone down on the bed and Yuri caught it before it bounced onto the floor. After a second, Aleksei snapped the phone out of his hand and called the airport looking for emergency flights to Russia. \"Two fucking days? I'm ...you're right, I'm sorry. It's just...I've found out a dangerous man was released and I know right where he's headed...lives are at stake...\" He hung up on the woman. \"Useless c...\"\n\n\"Hey! She is just doing her job.\" Yuri stopped him and put his hands on Aleksei's shoulders. \"Just think. Call Oleg. He has private jets everywhere. I know it is ill-advised but I think in this situation it's a little too late to wonder what Dmitri will do next and if he'll hear about us tripping about in Oleg's private jets.\"\n\n\"You're right. I'll call now.\" Aleksei dialed the international number and waited, finally getting an answer, one of Oleg's many assistants. \"Siberia you say...I just...I need approval to use one of his jets. Already been approved? Oh God...nyet...nyet everything is fine. Thank you.\" Aleksei said, his voice weak. \"He already has a jet here, waiting for us...he's gone, er, hunting in Siberia...\"\n\n\"But that's code for...\"\n\n\"We're under attack.\"\n\n\"We have to go now.\"\n\n\"No shit.\"\n\n**Chapter 51**\n\nRosa's mind was a whirl of terror and rage. Below, in the cistern, she heard the man who had tortured her, screaming, calling out for her. But her mate was in front of her, and his wounds were many, more than she could handle in fact, but she tried. Instinct told her what to do. Keep pressure on the worst of the wounds, try to wake him up, make sure he was not cold because he was in shock. When the door beeped some hours later, she was in a state of nervous collapse and first growled at the strange men accompanying Oleg.\n\n\"Is alright, my dear, they are here to help him. Why do you not come into kitchen with Uncle Oleg and have something to drink? You have done such good job on my nephew.\" She looked hesitantly at the three men, who were carrying bags of supplies and setting to work on her mate. \"Is okay, my dear, please, trust me, okay? I would never dream of hurting nephew.\"\n\n\"Does she need any assistance, Oleg?\" One of them asked but Oleg waved him off.\n\n\"Nyet, Ivan would have died himself before he would let her get hurt. Say, where is other bastard, in cistern?\" Oleg asked and she nodded.\n\n\"He...scream for me for long time. Finally get quiet while ago. I did not help. My mate need help first.\" She said, settling at the kitchen bar, though the stool was a new way of sitting for her. Oleg poured her some tea and surreptitiously slipped in some vodka, just to calm her, unaware of her delicate condition. She drank it thankfully and, being unaccustomed to drink, was soon asleep, her head resting on her arms on the marble countertop. He carried her to the master bedroom, where he knew Ivan slept, and tucked her in, careful to secure the door behind him. Better she was locked in, better she not see Ivan if he didn't make it. But Oleg should have known better. Ivan was, if nothing else, a survivor. It was just a matter of time.\n\n**Chapter 52**\n\nAll of the long trip back to the Siberian compound, Aleksei was quiet. He hadn't yet told Yuri all of the truth, the bit about Dmitri, or Ivan. His plan had been to save it until Rosa was a little better rehabilitated and everyone was a little more settled. But stepping inside the house, it was immediately clear that something was wrong in a very big way.\n\nThe first thing they saw was the destroyed living area, most of it had been cleaned up, but the furniture was heavily damaged and the television was, though sitting in its proper place, clearly not likely to function again. It had been smashed over something, from the look of it, someone's head. Yuri nudged Aleksei and he turned and saw Rosa curled in a ball on the blood-stained and broken couch, her eyes squinted shut and her hands over her ears. When Yuri moved towards her she suddenly opened her eyes and leapt on him, nearly knocking him over, clinging to him in terror.\n\n\"Rosa, where's Ivan? Where is mate?\" Yuri asked her as she sobbed on his shoulder, seemingly terrified to the point of complete hysteria.\n\nAleksei immediately dug in his bag for a bottle of water and some of the little sedative he always carried. Among other things, of course. He gave Rosa the pills and she took them, so clearly someone had been working with her because she'd been incapable. Later he would theorize that perhaps it had been muscle memory, just her instinctively reacting. As soon as Yuri was out of sight, and it was a good thing, a loud bang from the cistern made Aleksei jump and ran to the observation window, which was cracked, shattered even, but not broken. The safety glass Ivan had insisted on had done its job because it was clear someone very big threw someone else against it. The imprint of a body was almost perfectly displayed in the razor-sharp spider webs.\n\nBelow, he could just make out one person hanging from the ceiling, feet dangling almost four feet off the ground. The other, blurry as it was, had a bottle in one hand and a gun in the other. Before Aleksei could turn to run down the ramp he saw the gun raised in a swaying hand and heard another bang. \"Jesus....\"\n\nHe burst into the cistern and his eyes fell first on Dmitri who looked to be minutes from death he was so gray, hanging by his arms from the ceiling. He laughed when he heard the door open, dark blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth.\n\n\"Ivan! What the hell are you doing?\" Aleksei asked as Ivan raised the gun again, clearly he was blind drunk, there were empty bottles everywhere. Below Dmitri was a pile of broken glass and he guessed Ivan had been throwing them at the hanging man. \"Let him down!\"\n\n\"Let who down? I am just having drink with,\" he hiccupped and belched rudely, \"brother.\" Ivan belched a second time, then fired again, this time the bullet ricocheted off the ceiling and grazed Ivan's shoulder, making him curse and Dmitri laugh. \"You shut fuck up useless bastard.\"\n\n\"Is that my sweet big brother come to save me?\" Dmitri asked in a mock-childish tone that was equal parts creepy and terrifying.\n\n\"What? What does this mean?\" Ivan asked, turning to Aleksei, who was able to get the gun out of his hand. \"You are big brother...not Aleksei...\"\n\n\"Ivan...you need to come with me.\" Aleksei pointed the gun and Dmitri flinched, but when the slender blonde pulled the trigger the resulting shot severed the rope holding him. He fell heavily to the concrete floor, and broken glass. \"Dmitri, I will see to you later, if you are still alive.\"\n\nIt took hours to get Ivan sobered up enough he had a cognizant and functioning brain, enough to relate to Aleksei and Yuri what had happened while they were away for their two week trip. Now, Aleksei knew, was where the metal would hit the meat, so to speak. Because Ivan suddenly stiffened and asked, \"Why did Dmitri call you 'big brother'?\"\n\n\"Because I am his big brother, I suppose...and yours. He is middle child from very dysfunctional family.\" Aleksei sighed heavily and then stared the broken water glass that had just slipped from Yuri's fingers.\n\n\"S-so we're...related?\" Yuri's face went a shade of pale gray that rivaled Dmitri's and Aleksei was terrified he might faint and hurt himself. But he knew better than help him, he knew Yuri was as apt to lash out violently as he was to sit down and cry.\n\n\"No, no, thank God no. In fact, you're the only one here _not_ related to Dmitri.\" Aleksei motioned him to one of the stools across the bar from him and prepared him another glass of water. Ivan busied himself cleaning up the broken glass and mopping the spilled water off of the floor. \"You are also, most definitely, not related to me.\"\n\n\"I am not understanding...how is it that Dmitri is your brother? I thought that he and Yuri were brothers.\" Ivan said, rubbing his head as Aleksei shoved a glass of water in front of him and then hopped up and sat on the counter, facing the breakfast bar. \"What is going on here?\"\n\n\"If you will listen, I am going to tell you.\" Aleksei looked sadly at Yuri. \"And for what it's worth, Yuri, I never wanted to have to tell you this way. I know it's hard, losing a brother. I lost mine a long time ago...or I was made to believe I had.\"\n\nFirst, he related the story of his visit to the small village, his birthplace, but with the added tale of his visit to Lavrov's nursing facility. He decided on a whim to not tell Ivan the story of his own conception, for one he was not convinced it was true and for another he couldn't imagine it going over well with Ivan. Better he let Ivan believe Sergei was his papa, as he'd always done. From there, he continued on with a yet untold version of the story. Ivan had started to move, first cleaning up Yuri's broken glass. When that task was done, he began preparing food, unable to sit still as he was clearly agitated already, his mind working out all that he was being told. He asked surprisingly few questions, but Aleksei was willing to bet all of that was about to change.\n\n\"Tell me, what do either of you know about the Russian Military's Eugenics program?\" he asked, softly enough that it required Ivan to stop in his noisy preparation.\n\n\"I always thought that was just rumor. Speculation. Nonsense, even. It would be...illegal according to many world treaties...so many I did not even think Russia would dare. How could they afford such costly program?\" Ivan asked, then went back to chopping whatever he was chopping, his back was to Aleksei and Yuri as he was standing at the kitchen sink.\n\n\"You're not saying...my...Dmitri was...\" Yuri caught on and Aleksei nodded.\n\n\"As was I.\" He said and that caused Ivan to drop the knife in the sink, curse, pick it up, and continue chopping after a brief glance back. \"I did a lot of research, while I was away those extra months. Especially after I found...\" he went to his bag and pulled out a manila envelope and opened it, laying out three birth certificates. One was for a girl, a sister that he planned to seek out information on as soon as possible. The other two were for himself and Dmitri. Also noted were four miscarriages between Aleksei and Dmitri, each of which Yuri touched lightly with his fingers, almost as if grieving silently.\n\n\"Baby girl...no name, but you were both given names. I wonder why that is.\" Ivan said, peering down at the three documents bearing an official military seal. \"I wonder...what they did with her. To her.\"\n\n\"There were two types of children that resulted from these...breeding farms. The type like myself, intelligent to the point of obsessing over knowledge...and the type like Dmitri. You see, the idea was to breed men with my brains and Dmitri's brawn.\"\n\n\"Men like...Ivan.\" Yuri whispered, but Ivan only shook his head.\n\n\"Nyet, Yuri, I was not part of program. Sergei is my papa...he is my papa right, Aleksei?\" Ivan looked doubtful and Aleksei smiled reassuringly.\n\n\"Yes.\" Aleksei lied, easily. It was bad enough he'd always know the truth of Ivan's conception and parentage, the worried expression on Ivan's face reinforced his suspicion it would be better that Ivan did not. \"That is the only absolute certainty in all of this. The rest is merely speculation. But I do think that the Eugenics program left its mark on you.\" Aleksei paused, took a bit of mushroom offered on the tip of Ivan's chopping knife, and then continued. \"I think, from what I can gather, you were perfection, or you would have been but for one thing. Your father wasn't in the program, therefore, the military couldn't touch you. The only characteristic you don't show that all of us have is the obsessive behavior. If that's the case, you're beyond perfection you're almost...divine...by their beliefs.\"\n\nIvan blushed, then, to Aleksei's surprise. \"Yuri, go up in my rooms and get six notebooks in bottom bureau drawer. But do not open them until you get back down here, please. I do not wish Rosa to see them. Not yet.\" They waited and Yuri returned, promptly, laying out the notebooks. \"Does this count as 'obsessive' doctor?\"\n\nAleksei opened the book with the most wear and gasped at the pencil sketch of a graphically naked woman. He flipped through the book, noting the first picture had been drawn thirteen years ago when Ivan would have been seventeen and newly recruited into the Russian Army. Giving it a rough estimate, he figured there must have been two hundred drawings to a book. \"You really put yourself about freely, didn't you?\"\n\nIvan chuckled, then noted Aleksei had stopped at the last drawing in the newest book. \"But not since her.\" He added, then smiled fondly at the portrait of the sleeping, fully clothed, Rosa, drawn in the medical residency hall in London. \"Not since her.\" He repeated, then returned to the sink to continue preparing to cook.\n\n\"Well, it definitely counts as an obsession, and it throws something else into your profile. You're an exceptionally talented...that's enough Yuri, give it back...artist.\" He tugged the book from Yuri, who'd been staring at each picture in detail, earning himself a frustrated growl. \"Do you ever get enough?\"\n\n\"No.\" Yuri said, sullenly, slouching on his stool.\n\n\"So, that solidifies my theory that you were touched by that program. Our mother was pumped up on God only knows what. For sure, human-growth hormones in excessive doses, as was Lavrov. I was unable to track down what other chemicals parents and then expectant women were given. It seems someone higher-up doesn't want that secret out there.\" Aleksei stacked the notebooks and put them to the side, well out of Yuri's reach, as he was still eyeing them almost hungrily.\n\n\"What happened to men in program? Why have not more come forward? Certainly there must be others who are...unusually tall or strong like myself and...and him.\" Ivan gestured towards the cistern and a bit of what appeared to be tomato flew off of his knife. Yuri caught and ate it as if it were any other day. But it wasn't any other day.\n\n\"Well, to be honest, the best I can figure is they've been...exterminated.\" Aleksei said and Yuri had a sudden and violent coughing fit before chugging water. \"Yuri?\"\n\n\"Fucking...hot pepper. Thank you Ivan.\" He gasped, bringing laughter from Ivan.\n\n\"Da, you are welcome.\" Ivan turned back to face Aleksei, his expression serious once more. \"I am guessing Sergei is only reason Dmitri still lives...if he still lives...\"\n\n\"Yes. I was made to believe that my brother, who was then called only Viktor, had died. Not long after discovering my mother was pregnant with you, I...I was shipped off to boarding school in London.\" Aleksei sighed and stared at the marble countertop. \"For the longest time I hated Sergei, I believed he had sent me away, I believed he had done this because he was just as bad as Lavrov. Of course, I couldn't have been more wrong, but Lavrov was all I knew of men...and as I've told you, he was no role model. Sergei adopted Dmitri shortly after Katya died in that car accident, he had just enough political clout to push it through. Katya's name was put on the birth certificate instead of my...our mother's. Our mother signed it in her stead.\"\n\n\"And then not long after I was born.\" Ivan said, and then suddenly, Yuri bolted from the house, before Ivan could grab him or Aleksei could call out to him. \"Nyet, Aleksei. Let him go. He will be back. Not too many tigers in this particular area.\"\n\n\"Tigers? There are no tigers here.\" Aleksei snorted standing and starting out the door. \"He was barefoot, Ivan...he'll freeze.\"\n\n\"You do not think they are called Siberian tigers because they are white, do you? Of course there are tigers. Do not worry about him, well, I know you will, but he can take care of himself. He has had bad shock. His whole world has been turned upside down. He needs time to think, to process and absorb, you know this because it has always been so. I will leave food outside for him and you will see, he will come home when he is ready. Not before.\"\n\n**Chapter 53**\n\nIvan flat refused to help with Dmitri's medical attention, but he could not blame Aleksei for wanting to care for the man they now knew to be Aleksei's little brother. So, he stood silently by as the doctor stabilized Dmitri, sewing up any wounds that hadn't, in only twelve-hours, already healed. When they were done, and Dmitri was sleeping soundly on what had been Rosa's 'nest', they made certain the cistern was securely locked and walked up the ramp together.\n\n\"Ivan...you do realize neither of you should be walking around right now...I'm not really sure Dmitri should even be breathing. He was...well...he appeared to be seconds from death yesterday. I mean, he was gray, his skin...he had lost so much blood.\" Aleksei looked at the vials of blood he held in his hands. \"I'll need to get to a hospital to test this blood...if my medical license hasn't been suspended...thanks to my brother.\"\n\n\"You should not have been able to make shot like you did yesterday, either.\" Ivan said, softly and Aleksei gave him a startled look.\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" He asked, completely confused. \"I've never fired a gun in my life.\"\n\n\"Da, I know. Come to Oleg's office, I will show you.\" They went into the office, and Ivan dialed back the surveillance footage to the point at which Aleksei had come in and stopped Ivan from killing Dmitri. \"You see? How did you do that?\"\n\n\"How can I answer that when I don't even remember...\" He paused when the kitchen door slammed and they both hurried out of the room. A muddy, blood-covered Yuri was standing in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge as if he were starving, cramming anything and everything in his mouth. \"Yuri!\" Aleksei cried out, causing the filthy man to raise up too quickly and hit his head on one of the shelves, nearly knocking over one of Ivan's precious vodka bottles. \"What the hell happened? Are you injured? You're all bloody...\"\n\n\"Nyet...no I'm not injured...but if anyone comes around asking about a sheep massacre...I was here all night.\" He said and Ivan chuckled. \"I am going to have a shower...Ivan, can I use the incinerator to burn these clothes?\"\n\n\"Da. Destroy all evidence of whatever you have done. Good boy.\" Ivan said and Aleksei tutted at him in annoyance.\n\n\"He is not a boy, first of all, and second why do you encourage this? He's killed someone's livelihood...that's not acceptable.\" Aleksei started to get wound up but Yuri grabbed him with a blood-sticky hand and dragged him towards their rooms. \"And apparently,\" Ivan heard him say going up the hall, \"A slaughter of the innocents has you quite turned on. Well, I can tell you...\"\n\n\"Shut up, Aleksei.\" The door slammed and Ivan sighed as Rosa walked into the kitchen, looking sleepy, her belly already beginning to show confirmation of what they'd not yet had a chance to test her for.\n\n\"Hello, beautiful.\" Ivan said to her and she grumbled something, then paused and sniffed the air, turning in a circle, confused.\n\n\"Who is bleeding?\" She asked, going then to the fridge and digging out several different types of raw vegetable. Some, he knew, she wouldn't want to eat raw, but she was insistent on rediscovering what she liked, and didn't like, on her own. \"Ivan?\"\n\n\"Yuri. Well, not Yuri, but he ran out last night for while, that is all you need to know.\" Ivan started prepping a light meal for Dmitri. He hated the thought, but they did still need the bastard alive, if for nothing else, to prove Aleksei's theory.\n\n\"Did man with one eye survive?\" She asked, then, spitting out a bite of raw onion, distastefully. \"I don't like that one.\"\n\n\"You will when it is cooked. Da, he survived.\" Thus far, she refused to say his name or even acknowledge him so this question surprised Ivan. Until she responded to it.\n\n\"Too bad.\" She said, carefully testing a small cherry tomato before eating several more of them, clearly enjoying them. \"How he can survive such abuse?\"\n\n\"The same way I can, I am afraid. But here, is not time for you to worry about him...or me...\" He stopped and cocked his head to one side. \"Oleg's office phone is ringing, I better go and answer, might be uncle is on way for visit.\"\n\n\"Sir, I do not...Russian Military vehicle is approaching, sir.\" The guard at the gate stammered, his face pale. Most of these men were former military turned criminal, who asked to work far from the city to avoid detection from government officials. It wasn't so bad, they were given a nice house on the compound so that they and, in some cases, their wives could live in great comfort. Oleg took care of his people. That was how he had risen to such power, and infamy. His people would literally do and had done anything for him. \"What...what do I do?\"\n\n\"They are probably coming to ask about tiger attack last night. Tell them nothing. Stall them as long as you can. Give me time to brief my brothers.\" Ivan said, flicking the monitors over so he could see the gate from many angles. Then he pressed an intercom button. \"Aleksei, Yuri. Get in office. Now.\"\n\nRosa also heard the call and came running, her eyes wide with terror. \"Ivan?\"\n\n\"Go to our room, sweet one. I will come for you soon. Do not open door unless is one of us, okay?\" She nodded and departed, her hands covering her belly protectively. He smiled, but only momentarily as a shower-wet Yuri appeared, now wearing clean black jeans and no shirt, though he was carrying one. Aleksei appeared just seconds after him, also half-dressed and looking more than a little flustered at the interruption. \"Russian military is here.\" Ivan said blandly.\n\n\"My God, Yuri, what did you do?\" Aleksei asked, but it was more out of exasperation than a real need to know. Mistaking this, Yuri grinned and pulled on his shirt.\n\n\"Was only a couple dozen sheep. I don't know what all the fuss is about.\" He winked at Ivan, but Aleksei did not see the gesture and, thus, took him seriously.\n\n\"You...slaughtered...someone's...that's a lot of...\" Aleksei sat heavily in the nearest chair, looking pale and likely to go into shock.\n\n\"Pull it together doc, you are going out to meet them.\" Ivan said, and then walked him through the plan to get everyone out safely.\n\n**Chapter 54**\n\nAleksei strolled out in the morning sun, wincing at the bright-white patches of slowly melting snow. He stretched his legs and did an entire show of getting ready to go on a run. Then he seemed to recognize that there were two soldiers standing warily by their olive-drab vehicle and he strolled over. \"Good morning, gentlemen. What brings you out this way?\"\n\n\"Local citizen complaint. You are preparing to go for run?\" The taller of the two asked, and though he wasn't even as tall as Dmitri, he was definitely formidable, threatening even.\n\n\"Da, I am. I run every morning...is good habit to be in. I am doctor, you know, though I am currently on hiatus.\" When the man looked confused at this, Aleksei smiled slightly. \"I am on vacation?\"\n\n\"Ah. You would be better not running this morning, sir. Something tore up farm last night, not two kilometers from here. Killed almost every animal they owned, even brought down two horses. Strong, healthy horses, work horses from look of them though, damage was so bad is hard to tell for sure.\" Thankfully, they didn't realize just why Aleksei paled, all it did was make his half-disgusted, half-terrified expression all the more believable. \"You are here alone?\"\n\n\"Besides my private security, da.\" Just as they'd planned, Ivan came around the corner, carrying two buckets of God-only-knew where'd he'd gotten it, gore. Aleksei could smell it all the way from where they were standing and he noticed one of the soldiers edged away, clearly repulsed.\n\n\"I thought you were alone.\" The first guard said, then eyed Ivan. \"He is enormous...why he is not in Army? We need soldiers his size...\"\n\n\"Because, he has mental capacity of child of about six years old.\" Aleksei turned and motioned to Ivan. \"He loves soldiers, though. He really wanted to be in Army but you know they would not take him. Broke his dear heart. I guess I do not consider him _someone_ because he is more child than man. Cannot act as an adult in any aspect; I am his legal guardian.\"\n\n\"Still...would not want to piss him off.\" The second man spoke for the first time, remaining as far away from the buckets Ivan was carrying while staying within earshot. From the greenish tinge to his face, Aleksei knew the man would rather have been any number of places than here.\n\nIvan drew near, avoiding eye-contact, which was hard as hell for an alpha, Aleksei knew, but he pulled it off masterfully, along with acting convincingly shy. \"H-hello.\"\n\n\"Pyotr, these gentlemen say there has been tiger attack...it was tiger, da?\" Aleksei gave them a stern look and they both exchanged glances and nodded as they looked up at Ivan's immense bulk. \"So, when you take slop down to dump be careful. Tiger might be drawn to smell.\"\n\n\"Are you real soldiers?\" Ivan blurted out and stepped forward. One of the men, the first that had spoken, twitched his hand towards his service revolver, but stopped when he saw Aleksei's furious expression. \"I wanted to be soldier but Army would not take me. I cried for days.\"\n\n\"They have to be going, Pyotr. Go and dump slop so we can have breakfast. I am going on my run. Okay?\" Aleksei smiled at him gently as the soldiers simply observed.\n\n\"Okay, nice to meet you both. Maybe we can be friends.\" Ivan gave them a smile and then loped off, grabbing the buckets and disappearing back around the house.\n\n\"I have heard of men big as him, back in war. But they were all killed off.\" The second soldier said, earning a reproachful glance from the first. Clearly, this was not a topic to be discussed with civilians and though Aleksei's curiosity was piqued, he said nothing.\n\n\"Take care out here, sir. Especially if you still plan to do your running.\" They turned to depart, but as the driver rounded the tall vehicle to get in, a fist came out of nowhere and dropped him like a stone. The second soldier pulled his service weapon and turned on Aleksei, failing to notice Yuri, dressed in solid white now, and crouching behind a snow pile. Seeing Aleksei in danger was all it took, Yuri leapt from crouching and plowed the man over, pinning and disarming him. Then, Aleksei stabbed a needle in his neck and pressed the plunger.\n\n\"Yuri,\" Ivan grunted, crouching to put the second man on his left shoulder, he already had the first man on his right shoulder, \"Go and get Rosa, give her white clothes. We will be going north into mountains. The closest base, their base, is south on only road so there is no going back that way, especially not in stolen military vehicle. Make sure she is dressed warmly. And there is no need to make her take off what she is already wearing.\"\n\nYuri shot him an insulted look, but said nothing, simply loped ahead of them into the house. \"Your strength amazes me sometimes.\" Aleksei said, following him down to the cistern. Dmitri, to their surprise, was sitting upright in the bed, picking morosely at his food. When he saw them carrying two soldiers he started to get up, but Aleksei grabbed the pistol off of Ivan's hip and leveled it at his head. \"Nyet, you just sit back down, little brother.\"\n\n\"What if I do not? You are going to shoot me? You are not man enough.\" Dmitri sneered, his eye on the open cistern door. Aleksei turned, just slightly, and fired, winging Dmitri's left ear. \"God damn you, little bitch!\"\n\n\"Next one will go right through your fucking eye patch, prick. Do not believe me? Keep running your fucking mouth.\" Aleksei said as Ivan watched him in disbelief, wary of what Dmitri would do. After a moment, though, he chose the wise path and sat back down on the bed, but it was clear he was seething with rage. He wiped away the blood that was trailing down his neck from his ear, irritably, but said nothing more. Ivan went back to securing the two soldiers, sitting up right with their backs together, he bound them at their wrists, though not too tight. He had no intention of actually hurting them, this was just to keep them out of the way.\n\n\"Okay, Aleksei, administer drug and we will go.\" Ivan said and Aleksei passed him the pistol before pulling a second syringe, with a far larger dose of the drug, from his waistband. \"Dmitri, you will not move. I do not threaten.\"\n\n\"I would much rather stay with them.\" Dmitri said, eyeing the needle suspiciously. \"Stay alive with them, I mean.\"\n\n\"You fucking moron. Russian Army will kill you if they find you, Dmitri.\" Aleksei said, pausing as Dmitri pushed away from him, his back against the wall now, his eye still on the needle. \"Just...we cannot take you with us if you are conscious. You cannot be trusted.\"\n\n\"Why would military kill me? Besides, would that not be end to all of this?\" Something in his tone gave even Ivan pause, Dmitri almost sounded defeated. \"Just let me stay here. I am tired. I want to rest.\"\n\n\"Good. This drug will make you rest.\" Aleksei said and finally Ivan came past him in a rush, as one of the soldiers stirred. Before Aleksei could think, Ivan had grabbed the needle, jumped on the bed and stabbed it into Dmitri's neck.\n\n\"I fucking hate you, Ivan.\" Dmitri slurred as he slumped over.\n\n\"I do not exactly love you.\" Ivan whispered, then hefted him up onto his shoulder. He glanced up and saw Yuri and Rosa watching, Rosa clutching her belly and growling. This was going to be a road-trip from hell, Aleksei could see it already.\n\n**Chapter 55**\n\nAs 'cluster-fucks' went, Ivan would later say, the trip north was one of the worst. Rosa rode in the front, constantly tense and throwing angry glances over her shoulder at Dmitri, who was bound tightly but upright and conscious in the backseat. They had him gagged and blindfolded, but his occasional slurred words told them he'd noticed Rosa's scent. At one point, Ivan reached back and punched him when he made a particularly crude comment, the bone in his nose making a satisfying crunch on impact.\n\nWhen they stopped for a bathroom break, on Rosa's whimpered request, Ivan pulled Aleksei, who was waiting his turn to use the bushes ever so politely, around to the opposite side of the vehicle, a wary blue eye on Dmitri at all times. \"Can you not give him another injection? Knock him out? His presence is stressing Rosa, it cannot be good for her in her...condition.\" He whispered, cautiously, not wanting Dmitri to know she was pregnant, though from his comments Ivan knew Dmitri already suspected it.\n\n\"No, Ivan, I can't. He's had too much of the drug as it is. I know you are different, both of you, but I can't be sure just how different. Really, it's not supposed to be used more than once in any forty-eight hour period.\" He turned and glared as Dmitri kicked the door of the vehicle and glared at them from the opposite side. Ivan opened the door nearest him.\n\n\"What in fuck do you want? You do not think I am going to untie you to piss do you? Nyet, I was not born yesterday.\" Ivan snapped and Dmitri groaned, then said something and finally, annoyed at the muffled speech, Ivan yanked the gag out of his mouth.\n\n\"Fine, then. I will piss in seat, see if fags like sitting in that.\" He said and Ivan slammed the door shut so hard the window cracked and he turned his back on Dmitri.\n\n\"We could just...leave him here.\" Aleksei said, softly, as Yuri and Rosa joined him, ignoring Dmitri's half-raging, half-pleading voice from inside the vehicle.\n\n\"You know he will only hunt us down if we do, and then it will all start over again.\" Ivan said, crouching and thinking. \"But then again, in his condition and with no money and...maybe I will take his shoes, too...maybe he will not make journey to next...\" He broke off and stiffened. \"Helicopter. They have found us.\"\n\n\"Shit...what do we do? Do we leave him?\" Yuri asked looking around at the nearly-bare scrub land.\n\n\"Nyet. Get in and put seatbelts on. We are about to go off road.\" Ivan said and everyone sprinted to their places, Dmitri still cursing and raging that he had to piss until Yuri slapped him.\n\n\"Shut up asshole, we are trying to save your pathetic hide.\" He snapped, then looked proud of his bravery, and why should he not? After all Dmitri had done to him, that had to feel good, Ivan knew, he smiled despite the seriousness of the situation, but said nothing, just winked at Yuri in the rear-view, making him blush furiously.\n\nIvan flew through the scrub as fast as the vehicle would go, driving with skill no normal human being could possess. Several times the vehicle went airborne, all of them gasping, except Ivan, who was in perfect control, as they bumped into a rocky, mountainous region. Soon enough, the helicopters fell away and Aleksei noted this development. \"Da, is test range out here...not to mention...people who come out here have tendency to die mysterious deaths. Locals and soldiers alike are very superstitious about these deaths. They will not return until they are forced to do so under direct order from whoever has put them on our trail.\"\n\nAnother hour, crawling slowly through the rough mountain passes, and it was beginning to get dark and cold. The sun had sunk behind the mountains a good while back and now Ivan and the others could hear the vehicle beginning to sputter. \"We are running out of gas.\" Dmitri said, flatly. \"We are running out of gas and you have us lost in one of most deadly places on planet.\"\n\n\"Only deadly if you do not know what you are doing. Now we must walk.\" The vehicle died just as he said this and everyone, minus Dmitri, whose hands were still tied, piled out, glad to be rid of the uncomfortable seats after bouncing along. Yuri and Aleksei were wrapped around each other for warmth and the growling Rosa eyed Dmitri with suspicion as he sat quietly in the vehicle, awaiting their decision. \"We have choice,\" He opened Dmitri's door so that his half-brother could hear them talking, then continued. \"We can leave him here, tied up, and he will be dead before morning. Or, we can take him with us and tolerate his presence.\"\n\n\"Third option.\" Dmitri said, softly, he really did sound weak, but then the rest of them had eaten and had water all day, he had refused both, foolishly. \"You could just shoot me now. Save me horror of...of whatever it is up here that kills people.\"\n\n\"It crossed my mind, but I do not like caged hunts. Nyet. I think you will come with us. I cannot take risk that you are just too ugly and _they_ will leave you alone. Then you might tell army which way we went.\" Ivan pulled him out and he stood, a little shakily, then stretched, his back popping loudly. \"But, you fuck with me and I will shoot you. You even look at Rosa and I will feed you your own balls. Am I clear?\"\n\n\"Da,\" Dmitri smirked, then added. \"Crystal.\" Yuri lashed out, hitting him hard across the face before Aleksei could drag him away, scolding him gently.\n\n**Chapter 56**\n\nDmitri stumbled and went down on one knee with a groan, and Ivan turned and looked at him in disgust. He glared right back at Ivan, \"You try walking with hands bound behind your back. Is not easy to balance. My boot is untied and keeps tripping me up.\"\n\n\"You make excuses like pussy.\" Ivan snorted, then glanced at the other two. \"Get him up and tie his boot. I will not have his hands untied around her, not even for tying boot.\"\n\n\"Or taking piss, apparently.\" Dmitri was still irritated. Ivan had actually forced him to let the fag, the one that was a doctor, he refused to acknowledge the doctor by name, help him relieve himself. To be fair, the doctor hadn't been any more thrilled than he, as he was fairly ripe from days of having not showered. Then Ivan had told him, in confidence while the fags watched over the whore that if he didn't look out Yuri was apt to break his ass in. When Dmitri had countered he'd kill Yuri, Ivan laughed and said, how can you kill him if your hands are tied?\n\nSince then, Dmitri had behaved himself, but he knew it was all an act, just until they let their guard down. Then he'd start slitting throats and take the bitch as his own. He missed her, she was a damn good fuck and it had been nice, having a woman trained to do his bidding. After spending time with her, he wondered why he'd ever bothered hunting bar slags in the first place.\n\nDmitri also knew when Ivan said 'her' he was referring to the little bundle of Spanish fury asleep on his back in a makeshift sling he'd admirably thrown together without stopping. Her head was resting on his shoulder and, once, when Dmitri had gotten close, he had heard her snoring. A sound he was quite familiar with, though he'd beaten her for it several times, if it bothered him. Now, he burned with jealousy, suspecting she was pregnant, wondering who the lucky man was, believing Ivan was as sterile as he, Dmitri, was.\n\nWhen his boot was tied, they continued on, turning up a path that was both steep and dangerous, and here, Dmitri was further reminded of his bondage. He did all he could to stay upright on the loose stone but still fell many more times before they reached a very clearly man-made cave. Or at the very least, he thought as he looked at the ancient paintings near the cave opening, touched by the hands of men. The moon was full and beginning its ascent into the sky and just as they were entering the cave something gave an inhuman screech outside and Ivan stopped.\n\nDmitri stood, looking down at the knees of his pants which were wet with blood from his many falls on the sharp and uneven rocky ground. Had they been any color but black, it would have been even more obvious, but from the way he heard his other pet, Yuri, sniffing, he knew at least one of the two bitches had scented him. A thought occurred to him as they stood there, his evil mind turning. Maybe he'd force his male bitch to rape the female, when he took over, ah, and make its fag lover watch. That was such a happy thought he actually chuckled before he could stop himself. Bristling at the sound, Ivan stopped and blocked all forward progress.\n\n\"You are welcome to wait here, Dmitri. They have picked up your scent...you are only one who is bleeding, you know.\" The giant blonde said, giving his own evil laugh. How could they think he was any better than them, after what he'd done in Africa? Dmitri longed to howl out this injustice many, many times over the past few hours but now, as a wholly unpleasant feeling washed over him, as if something dangerous was very near, he said nothing of it. Instead he replied very simply.\n\n\"Fuck you,\" he snarled, and another screech, closer this time, made him edge closer so that Ivan drew up to his full height and tensed up, putting as much of himself between Dmitri and Rosa as he possibly could. \"Can we just...move on?\" Dmitri asked, peering over his shoulder and into the moonlit canyon, nervously.\n\n\"I want you to see, Dmitri. I want you to know what is out there in case you decide to get foolish and try to escape. Do not think that running by day is any better. These...things...do not sleep.\" Ivan said, and then when Rosa woke at an even closer and almost ear splitting shriek she cowered. \"Keep head down, beautiful one. Yuri, Aleksei, get behind me, now.\"\n\nThey didn't waste any time, because now they could hear something moving stealthily along the rocks, coming right up the path behind them. Then it became apparent there was more than one and, when one of them appeared in the mouth of the cave Yuri had to clamp his hand over Aleksei's mouth to keep him from crying out. Whatever it was, it looked like a demon or devil from a horror story, though it had long-clawed hands and feet. Something like a cross between a werewolf and a lizard, because from what could be seen in the darkness, it didn't appear to have a hair on it. It did not pass the mouth of the cave, but it did let out a screech that Dmitri swore had damaged his hearing before Ivan blasted it with a bright flash of light from his torch, which he had used sparingly until just then. It recoiled, howling as if in pain, a flash of reddish-orange eyes, and then it disappeared.\n\n\"Now that you have seen what is behind, let us move ahead.\" Ivan said, rather calmly, and turned, continuing onward into the cave.\n\n\"Ivan...\" Aleksei said, his voice was actually trembling with fear and, to be honest, Dmitri hadn't said a word because he knew his voice would be shaky too and he wasn't about to show weakness in front of these pussies. All he could do was wonder what the thing he'd seen standing outside the mouth of the cave was. He kept asking himself this, over and over, along with could the strange creatures be killed and did he dare run?\n\n**Chapter 57**\n\nIvan turned left into a large antechamber and walked over to the wall, keeping the flashlight turned off, moving as if he knew exactly what he was looking for. \"Dmitri, can you help for moment?\" he asked as Rosa scurried off to stand with Aleksei and Yuri, who pulled her into their warm huddle. It was freezing in the cave, and they had no blankets or food, nor did they have any way to start a fire. As soon as Dmitri was close enough, Ivan grabbed him and forced something around his neck, locking it in place and then moving away to avoid any kicking.\n\n\"Ivan...you...this...\" Dmitri's rage exploded and he twisted and tugged as Yuri snickered and Aleksei stared in silent horror. Ivan illuminated the situation, displaying a chain attached to a collar now firmly locked around Dmitri's neck. The chain, rusted with age, was attached to a thick ring set into the very stone of the cave's wall.\n\n\"I will untie your hands if you will sit down and behave. We will not be here long, but I bet you would like move your arms.\" Ivan said, and Dmitri stilled in his struggling. Ivan untied his hands, as promised, and then backed away and left him in the antechamber, moving to another, directly across the hall. As soon as everyone was out, Ivan fiddled around the door a moment and a barred gate dropped with a loud clang. \"There. Now even if he gets free, he cannot run.\"\n\n\"Ivan...how did...what is this place?\" Aleksei asked softly as he dragged a snickering Yuri away from the bars. He was taunting Dmitri by barking at him, and that could do none of them any good. \"Ivan?\"\n\nIvan had already fallen down on the soft, sandy floor of the adjacent chamber, and Rosa was curled up against him, her back to him. \"Everyone pile up, it will get cold in here tonight.\" He ordered and, after a brief struggle, Aleksei placed himself between Yuri and Rosa. He was acting unusually, and Ivan noted it, wondering why he was suddenly so keen on getting near her. She had been quiet, weepy even, not at all herself. He worried, but he said nothing to the others, or her. This was not the time or place. \"This was cave slavers used once to hide their captures until they could be picked up by air lift. I found it when I was...hunting...once.\"\n\n\"Hunting,\" Yuri yawned. \"Right.\"\n\n**Chapter 58**\n\nThe following morning, Dmitri was the first to stir. The chain attached to his collar jingled as he woke with a start, his feet kicked out in the soft soil. He sat up, his eyes not on the large bearskin cover that had been carefully, and stealthily, laid over him but at the four men seated around a campfire built in between the two rooms, right in the middle of the corridor. \"Hey, hey help me.\"\n\nIvan woke with a grunt, then, and smiled at the feel of the warm furs that had been placed over them, this was a good sign. The rock people were still here, and they were being unofficially accepted. He knew that being officially accepted was not so simple, as he tucked the blanket around Rosa, whose head was on Aleksei's back, and walked out to the campfire.\n\n\"You have come back.\" One of the older men observed. \"It was foretold, as was evil you bring with you.\" The man motioned towards Dmitri, who was staring at him sullenly, with what looked suspiciously like a human thigh-bone. \"You know what has to happen, if you want sanctuary among our people?\"\n\n\"Da, I know.\" Ivan said, taking a seat among them.\n\n\"That one,\" another of the four said, \"He bears great evil. It devours his heart, is in his blood. He would kill you and hurt your woman if he could. I do not believe I ever have seen man with so much rage in his heart.\"\n\n\"He is very sick...I brought him here hoping....\" Ivan said and the third man spoke.\n\n\"Again, if you wish sanctuary, this must be done. You are seeking this, are you not? Men in green with sticks that kill with fire...they have been spotted. Two were taken by Others...now they will come back in force, and more will be taken. But you cannot stay here if they find cave...you are not safe, yes?\" This the fourth man said.\n\n\"Yes. I need to protect woman and child...\" Ivan said and all four heads turned towards the room where Rosa slept.\n\n\"There is woman, but no child. She has lost it, did you not know?\" The first man said and a shock of pain with through Ivan so great that the second man laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. \"I am sorry, I should have let her tell you. Let me take her to village, her soul at least, is clean. Rest of you can use hot springs to clean up, be prepared. We will come for you when ritual chamber is ready. And Ivan...\" how this man knew his name, Ivan had no idea. \"The evil one...he must agree to this. We cannot cleanse him by force.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know.\" Ivan said and then closed his eyes. When he opened them both the four men and the fire were gone. As was Rosa. Yuri stirred and then shot to Ivan in a panic. \"Is okay, Yuri, I know where she is, and she is safe. Safer than we are about to be.\"\n\n\"What in hell...where did they go? There were four...I turned head for moment and....\" Dmitri's face had gone so pale he looked apt to faint. \"They gave us blankets and...and water...\"\n\n\"Da, they are friendly. Come, Dmitri, they have given us leave to use hot spring to wash up. You are going to go first.\" Ivan said, standing and opening the gate. Much to Dmitri's chagrin, he was led like a dog, which set Yuri to barking at him and Aleksei had to drag him away when Dmitri lunged. This time, Yuri didn't back down and had Ivan and Aleksei not had a good hold on both, there would have been a messy fight.\n\n\"Where is hot spring?\" Dmitri asked as they walked down a narrow passage that sloped slightly and had clearly been worked by human hands into a very unnatural tunnel with an arched ceiling that barely accommodated Ivan's height. \"Ivan what is this....oh...\"\n\nThey came into a room where a steaming waterfall thundered into a pool of clear water that was so warm they could feel the heat coming off of it. Sunlight glimmered down from high up in the cavern ceiling and Ivan saw a guard move stealthily past, his bow at the ready. Either the Army was already nearby, he knew, or they themselves were being watched. Most likely the latter, because typically these people withdrew to the very sanctuary Ivan wished to be admitted to.\n\n\"Dmitri,\" He said, holding the chain as the other man stripped down, even threading it through the neck-hole of his shirt and tossing the shirt aside. \"These people...they can save you.\"\n\n\"I do not need saving.\" He snorted, sinking into the water with a groan of appreciation. \"How do I wash with no soap?\"\n\n\"Use sand on bottom, believe me, it feels wonderful.\" Ivan said, sitting close to the water, aching to get in and have a wash. His turn would come next though. \"They will not grant you sanctuary unless you allow them to cleanse evil from your soul. I will have to pass through their initiation again, same as Aleksei and Yuri will. If you do not, they will shut you out to die. Others will come and take you. Creature you saw last night...\"\n\n\"Say I do this, this cleansing. What will it give me?\" Dmitri asked, crouching so the hot water, which was quite shallow, was up to his neck.\n\n\"Peace.\" Ivan said, softly. \"It will bring you peace.\"\n\n**Chapter 59**\n\nAleksei tugged uncomfortably at the loincloth he had been provided, not reveling in the lack of clothing. After their wash, they had returned to the caves to find these clean and seemingly newly made garments, laid out for them. Yuri seemed to love his, but then Yuri was given to run around completely naked, regardless of who was present. Dmitri was wrapped in his bear-skin blanket looking disgruntled, and Ivan was sitting cross-legged by a small fire he'd built, staring at the flames. Something was bothering him, but Aleksei could not get him to answer any questions. When six native men hurried into the corridor, seemingly from nowhere, all of them men rose, except Dmitri.\n\n\"It is time, Dmitri.\" Ivan said, coming in and unhooking the chain from the ring high up on the wall. \"Remember what I have told you...you must agree to this or you will be left to die. It is not where you want to find yourself.\"\n\nEach of the native men picked one of them, except the two leaders, and Aleksei noticed they were all wearing brightly colored beads and ceremonial head-gear. To his surprise, a hidden doorway lay just feet from where they had been sitting all day almost, and now they were led down a long, winding tunnel into blackness. Finally, they came into an antechamber that was almost perfectly round, and he noticed, besides the roaring campfire, a set of four stakes with ropes attached. Three young women, barely clad in leathers, appeared then and set out a wooden bowl at the end of the rectangle of stakes. Ivan had to slap Dmitri on the back of the head for ogling them, but to Aleksei's surprise, Yuri did not seem in the least bit interested. Of course they had spent a bit longer in the hot springs than they should have, so maybe some of his tension was relieved.\n\n\"Dmitri will go first.\" Ivan said and Dmitri eyed him suspiciously. \"I have been through it before, Dmitri. I am still alive, and so you will be, too.\"\n\nFinally he allowed himself to be led to the stakes by the women, who bade him to kneel. After a moment's hesitation, when Ivan tensed because he thought Dmitri might lash out, his half-brother submitted and did as they asked. The young women mixed several oils in the wooden bowl, when they were mixed, one of the women grabbed Dmitri's hand and sliced his palm, allowing his blood to drip into the bowl. After a few moments, to Aleksei's amazement, they took on a brilliant, but sinister, red glow. Dmitri's partner, the native man, had also knelt, but he was outside of the rectangle, facing Dmitri.\n\n\"Turn and face man, Dmitri.\" Ivan said, softly, and Dmitri obeyed, though his eye lingered on the women a moment longer before he turned his focus to the man.\n\n\"Ivan...what is happening. Why is that man sitting in front of him?\" Aleksei asked, but his own guide motioned for him to be quiet. Apparently, he would have to watch and learn. He sighed. Yuri tried to reach for him but his own guide stopped him and shook his head. To his surprise, Yuri relented immediately, looking as if he were in some sort of daze, his eyes were actually glazed over.\n\nOne of the women handed Dmitri the bowl and indicated he should drink, guiding him until he'd taken a sip, then tilting the bowl so that the native could drink. Catching on, Dmitri then drank again before allowing the native, who had constant eye-contact with him, to drink. The woman gently removed his eye-patch and placed it to the side, but he did not even seem to notice as he finished the glowing, red liquid. Suddenly, though, he grabbed his stomach and fell over, curling into a ball a long, drawn out scream escaping him.\n\n\"He has lot of evil to cleanse.\" Aleksei's guide explained softly. \"Yours will not be so horrible.\" It wasn't until later that Aleksei wondered how he had come to understand the language of these ancient people, for their words were neither English nor Russian.\n\nIvan moved forward and assisted in binding Dmitri's hands and legs so tightly he could not move, his head cradled on the knees of one of the women, the ugly scars on his heaving chest were painfully red, they almost looked as if he'd reopened them, though they were glowing slightly red themselves. When Aleksei thought on it, they hadn't looked that way minutes before. Another of the women placed long, wet leaves over the scars on his chest as another scream came from him. Now the two additional men came forward and the ceremony began. Aleksei's guide, as well as the other two, steered him, Ivan and Yuri to sit down against the wall.\n\nAs the men chanted and spoke, Dmitri's guide stood, and for the first time Aleksei realized he was holding a bow, arrow nocked at the ready. What was it he planned to kill, the doctor wondered, would he shoot Dmitri? The man glanced at Aleksei and for the first time, he saw that the native's eyes were glowing the same brilliant red of the potion. Giving Aleksei a nod of confirmation, he drew the bow and released it right into Dmitri's chest. Ivan did not stir, only watched passively. Aleksei clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming and Yuri tried to charge to Dmitri's aid but was stopped by Ivan, who pointed him back to the corner.\n\nDmitri gave two or three rattling gasps before finally his breathing stilled, and one of the natives, using an ember from the fire, lit the end of the arrow so that it burned very slowly. Aleksei saw that there was blood dripping from Dmitri's mouth and where it touched the sand, it sparkled the same glowing red for an instant, which amazed him. A swirling figure rose, then, and both Aleksei and Yuri, especially Yuri, gasped. It was a red, glowing figure of Dmitri, holding a riding crop with studs in it. He turned to Yuri and walked towards him but he could not leave the confines of the rectangle. The native guide stood and nocked another arrow, this one had a reddish glow to it. He drew, fired, and pierced the spirit and Dmitri, who had seemed dead, let out a howl of anguish that chilled Aleksei to the bone.\n\n\"He holds onto his rage...he would not let it go. But is too late now. He must. He must or he will die.\" One of the men kneeling by Dmitri said. The woman cradling his head stroked his face gently, her fingers trailing across the scar that had, at one time, been his right eye. Now, another red figure arose, a young Dmitri, barely eighteen, dressed in his full dress uniform, and this memory was strong because Aleksei could see enough of what was around him to know where he was at.\n\n\"Lavrov...\" He whispered, though no one seemed notice him. The rage on Dmitri's face was evident, it was clear the old man was mocking him, something he was very good at, for Dmitri grabbed something in the shadow memory and threw it hard. Only to have it thrown right back at him. He turned and stalked away, the flush on his face making his cheeks glow red. His hands unfolded something, a document, he looked at it with trembling hands, then looked back at something before continuing on. Then, the sequence started over, and this time, the native shot the apparition. This time a scream did not come from Dmitri, but a sigh.\n\n\"He is finding peace now. But there is one more, one he does not want to rise to surface...\" the man by his prone form said. The arrow had burned down now, almost to his chest. Another shape was taking form, but Dmitri was shaking his head furiously, tears streaming down his left cheek, as the right eye did not work, nor did the duct there. The woman spoke soothingly to him and stroked his hair, and finally, he relented and once more Aleksei was compelled to cover his mouth, feeling positively sick when he realized what was happening.\n\nA young Dmitri, probably no more than seventeen, cornered by an enormous man in the showers at a military training camp. They could see his lips moving, see the terror on his face, and see him pleading with the man for mercy. As the man reached for the towel he was clutching to his lower regions, his guide shot through the attacker and the arrow pierced young-Dmitri's chest. Now the arrow actually physically piercing him flared such a brilliant reddish-white that Aleksei's eyes watered and stung. When the flare sputtered, and died, the men started untying Dmitri's hands. He seemed to sleep, and four men came with a litter and carried him out of the chamber.\n\n\"Yuri will go next.\" Ivan announced and Yuri paled, but stood and walked bravely as he could, replacing Dmitri in the middle of the rectangle of stakes. The women mixed his bowl of drink, a new bowl had been brought in, Dmitri's had been burned in the fire during his cleansing, and Aleksei noted it glowed a deep, rich purple. This seemed to interest the two men greatly and they put their heads together and had a seemingly intense conversation. Ivan glanced back at Aleksei and Aleksei knew this purple was something either important, or frightening, based on his expression.\n\nAleksei did not look away once, not even when the ceremonial arrow pierced Yuri's chest. He was immensely proud that Yuri did not utter so much as a squeak of pain, he simply closed his eyes and gave himself over to the ceremony. Aleksei could only pray he showed such strength and self-control when his turn came. He wondered what color his drink would burn, it was brilliant green, which also seemed to draw the interest of the men. Ivan's too was special, as it was a clear, pure gold, though only he would ever know this.\n\n**Chapter 60**\n\nIvan went last, because he knew that the truth on Rosa would be revealed and he did not yet want any of them to know. When the six villagers carried his litter into the warm safety of the subterranean village, he saw that it was night outside through the chimney vents in the ceiling. Most of the villagers had already bedded down, and he was taken to a tent where Rosa moved close to him immediately, not bounding to him as she had once done. When she was folded into his arms, he whispered into her ear.\n\n\"Why did you not tell me, Rosa? When did it happen?\" He asked, and she started to sob softly, her tears hot on his flesh.\n\n\"Bumpy ride did it...seatbelt...pressure....I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to hate me for my failure.\" She whispered back but Ivan only hugged her closer to him. \"I can...I am ready...I can try again...the women here say it was just a passing thing, that we will have many young...\"\n\n\"Nyet, now is not good time. We are still in grave danger, even here. Once we are free of this country perhaps. For now, just rest...and Rosa? I love you...with all of my heart.\" He replied and she immediately rose up and kissed him, long and hard. Breathing a sigh of relief, he allowed her to turn her back to him and spoon up against him, her hair had been washed with the perfumed herbs the women here were fond of and he breathed in deeply the long-missed scent. It was a good scent for her, earthy and natural, sweet and musky, he fell asleep savoring it, a slight smile on his face. His soul and body were at peace for the first time in many, many years.\n\n**Chapter 61**\n\nIt took three days before Aleksei could corner Ivan, mainly because Ivan was avoiding him, which he knew, and it angered him. \"I want to see him, Ivan.\"\n\n\"He is fine, Aleksei. You do not need to see him.\" Ivan said, stubbornly, his jaw set.\n\n\"He's my brother, Ivan, you can't keep me from him forever.\" Aleksei countered. \"I'll just go over there myself, then, if you don't want to take me.\" He eyed the isolated hut at the far end of the enormous cave. Two guards sat on either side, and they were already watching him as if they sensed his agitation.\n\n\"Aleksei...\" Ivan sighed and, when Aleksei turned back to him, he was shocked to see Ivan merely looked tired. \"I am afraid if he sees you he will lapse back into his obsessive hatred. He has been so...happy and calm since his cleansing...\"\n\n\"I...I realize that but...there are so many things I want to ask him...about what we saw in his cleansing, about Lavrov...\" One of the guards was approaching and they both turned towards him as he made his way across the room.\n\n\"Man in hut want to see him.\" He said to Ivan, though Aleksei did not understand his words, he saw the gesture. \"He say they need talk.\"\n\n\"Okay, if you insist.\" Ivan said, then walked back beside Aleksei. \"But I am coming with you and if he starts to get agitated...I am stopping this.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" Aleksei said, his own jaw set, though with tension more than stubbornness. None of them but Ivan had seen Dmitri since the cleansing, so he was not prepared for what he saw when he stepped inside the hut. Sitting on a bed of furs, looking quite relaxed, was a Dmitri he hadn't seen in years. Most notably, all of the scars on his chest were gone, and his hair was no longer gray. Instead it was its healthy, rich darkness Aleksei knew was actually more dark red than brown. \"I...I do not...\"\n\n\"Cleansing heals us, Aleksei. It wipes slate clean, brings us back to better time in life. In Dmitri's case, it brought him back to before Army, back when he was blissfully unaware of...things. Of course, he does remember everything that has happened to him, so he is young in appearance but older in years.\"\n\n\"That is how...\" He started but Ivan silenced him, so he turned to Dmitri. \"How are you feeling?\"\n\n\"Much better now, though they will not yet let me outside of this hut. They do not seem to trust me around their women, but I do not know why.\" Dmitri shrugged, when Aleksei opened his mouth to explain he saw Ivan shake his head almost imperceptibly and changed his mind.\n\n\"Dmitri...what I saw in your...cleansing what happened to you in army?\" Aleksei asked, taking a seat on the sandy floor, cross-legged.\n\nDmitri took a drink of water from a clay bowl to his right, looking like someone desperately stalling for time, but just as Ivan started to speak, he held up his hand. \"It was...one of our high command officers who set it up. I...I did not remember much of it for many years, just what you saw in cleansing ceremony.\"\n\n\"Why would higher-up have grudge against seventeen year old?\" Ivan asked, sitting now, clearly interested.\n\n\"Sergei, or so I was told.\" He sighed heavily. \"That is why I was pleading with man, which is what you saw. I already knew Lavrov was my father, not Sergei. But of course, man who attacked me on commanders orders, he did not believe me. I was in infirmary for two weeks, and I thought for sure my military career was over. But it was not.\"\n\n\"Nyet, you had long career, good career from what I knew of it. When were you discharged? I got out about...five years ago, I think, though I try to forget...\" Ivan said and Dmitri looked at him thoughtfully.\n\n\"Do you know, I am not sure? I think was about one month before Yuri came back from America...I am reason...you know this, da?\" Ivan nodded, Aleksei shook his head. \"Ah, fifty-fifty. You have not told him then?\"\n\n\"I have not had time, and do not now. Go on with what you want to tell us.\" Ivan said, he wanted to get back to Rosa, he did not like being away from her too long, though she seemed to be doing remarkably better.\n\n\"I was in Black Sea region, at base there...I cannot say much more even here, now. But there was mortar attack...I got knocked out by blast-concussion. That is when nightmares returned and I started to remember what happened.\" Dmitri said, not bothering to let Aleksei tell him to continue. Now that he had started, it seemed he just wanted to let it all out. \"Base doctors were concerned I might be...cracking up...which I was! But you know how we...how I am. I insisted I was fine. Still, they gave me unexpected leave, and so, I caught train back to Moscow, with one month of downtime to waste, I wanted to see my...to see Sergei.\"\n\n\"Does he mean so little to you, Dmitri, that you can no longer call him papa?\" Ivan asked, his voice was dangerously soft, clearly he was wounded by this slight, whether imagined or real.\n\n\"Nyet, of course that is not it. I just do not want to confuse...I will call him papa, then. I just thought if I said 'papa' Aleksei might think I meant Lavrov and that bastard was no father to me.\" He said, then continued with his story. \"As I was saying, I could think of nothing more than seeing _papa_ and Yuri, so when I came in I was little bit surprised to find myself in middle of dinner party. As staff fussed over making me comfortable at table near papa...I could not help but noticed how close Aleksei was to Yuri, and then later...I saw them kissing...\"\n\n\"And that is what made you do what you did to Yuri?\" Aleksei asked, his hands clenched into fists, though he did not seem aware of it. Somewhere in him there was definitely a fighter, he just didn't recognize it for what it was, but Ivan did and he wondered at it.\n\n\"Nyet. What made me do that was you, I am afraid. You are older, and I saw you as older man who attacked me. I thought you were...forcing Yuri to act that way. I never stopped once to consider that maybe Yuri was happy in that sort of...relationship.\" He took another drink and gave Aleksei a very convincing apologetic look. \"Plan was to have you picked up by Army, to get you away from Yuri so you could not do to him what had been done to me. But, when time came, you had gone back to London...so they took Yuri on my command instead. One fag was same as another to me...back then.\" He added the last too hastily to be convincing to either of his brothers, though they wisely avoided making any eye-contact, keeping their eyes firmly on Dmitri.\n\n\"So, next question.\" Aleksei said, his hands were trembling with anger, but he didn't want to say any more about the subject yet. \"What do you know about this?\"\n\nHe placed the birth certificate for a baby girl with no name other than Baby Girl Lavrov and no birthdate on it. Dmitri picked it up and examined it and his face paled slightly. \"It all makes perfect sense now. Of course.\"\n\n\"I am sorry what?\" Ivan asked, completely confused by this, his blue eyes watching Dmitri warily as the other man got up and rummaged through his filthy old military service long-coat.\n\n\"This,\" He held up a ragged many-times-folded manila envelope.\n\n\"Where did that come from?\" Aleksei asked.\n\n\"Almost one month ago, I got call from nursing facility where Lavrov was living. He died, you see. That is why I say he _was_ living, not _is_ living. Anyway, they said that military had been around just that morning. There had been long interrogation, to point nurse said men had gotten physical with old bastard.\" Dmitri chuckled here, then looked apologetic once more. \"I am sorry, but he threw bedpan at them and it was full bedpan. So, after they left, apparently empty handed because nurse said they were, besides covered in shit, extremely pissed off and on, too, she went in to check on Lavrov. He was up out of his bed, he is not supposed to walk at all, you know? Before she could get to him he collapsed and soft spot in his head hit floor. He died pretty much instantly. He had cigarette lighter in one hand and this in other hand. She thought he might have intended to burn it.\"\n\n\"Well, what is it?\" Ivan asked, looking at the envelope as if it might jump up and bite one of them.\n\n\"That is just it, is nothing in there but address in Old Moscow. I cannot find any information on that address because there does not seem to be any phone service...\" He paused when a colossal explosion rocked the cavern, then said almost calmly, \"They are here.\"\n\n\"We have to go. Get dressed.\" Ivan said and he and Aleksei sprinted from the hut. \"Get Rosa and Yuri, go to that corner (he pointed to the eastern corner) wait for me there. There is passage out that we can take, it is hidden behind wall there.\"\n\n\"Consider it done.\" Aleksei said as he went one way and Ivan the other. Dmitri, pulling on his coat, was following Ivan, tucking the envelope, and address, safely back in the inside pocket of said coat.\n\n\"Chief, my old friend, I am afraid I have brought them right to you.\" Ivan said, he'd never felt so badly in all of his life, if anything happened to these people he'd never forgive himself.\n\n\"They were bound to come, sooner or later. Do not worry, my people will retreat into deep caves. Those men will never find us and once we have retreated, the Others will come and they will know what real war is.\" The chief gave him a knowing smile. \"You remember way out under mountains?\"\n\n\"Yes, I remember.\" Ivan smiled as they had a quick embrace.\n\n\"Take these, I had my woman prepare them for you. It is long walk through under-mountain-pass. Way is clear, though, I have men keep it so in case is needed. Safe journey, friend.\" He and Ivan nodded and Ivan took two heavy bags of provisions.\n\n\"Until we meet again.\" Ivan said and they parted, the rock-people, he knew, would go to the safety of the deep caverns that were many miles underground where normal people like himself could not survive. \"We will follow long road underground now. Five or six days walk. I hope you are not afraid of dark, torches, fire or battery, do not last long enough for entire trip, even though we will use _both_ sparingly. They will die before end.\"\n\n\"Not afraid of dark but not fond of tight spaces.\" Dmitri eyed the wall ahead, which looked solid. \"I do not see any doorway.\n\n\"Rock-people are intelligent in ways our people will never understand.\" Ivan said and, as they approached, his eyes scanned the wall until he found the right place. \"Here...look.\" He touched his palm to the wall and a grinding of stone caused a sleepy-eyed Yuri to jump away from the wall he had been leaning on, as it was lowering itself. Once they were all safely within the darkened passage on the other side, Ivan again touched his hand against the wall and the panel slid back into place. \"Now, we walk. If you are tired, you must tell me, I will go on for days without stopping so I want each of you aware of this. If you do not tell me I will not know to rest. Are we ready?\" He felt the comforting warmth of Rosa's hand in his and nodded. At least he had her and, for the time being, Dmitri was behaving himself. He wondered, though, how long it would last.\n\n**Chapter 62**\n\nOleg had helped them infiltrate Moscow almost a week after they had left the mountain pass. It was Yuri who had the most trouble in the complete darkness, so much that Aleksei even had to give him a sedative when they stopped just to force him to rest when he hadn't done so by the third time they stopped. As soon as they'd hit the brilliant spring sunlight outside the cave Yuri had done an odd sort of flip, landed on his back, hard, and wallowed around in the dry, brittle grass for a good half an hour before Ivan could get him back on his feet. Instead of letting them check out the address Dmitri had found on Lavrov, Oleg had sent a few of his enforcers to check it out, they had reported back that it was an extremely poor part of town, which only confused the brothers that much more.\n\nSo finally, when they could stand the curiosity no more, they headed into Old Moscow and stared up at a building that looked likely to fall down around them. \"Someone actually lives here?\" Aleksei asked, wrinkling his handsome nose at the homeless people sheltering in the alleys between buildings and the mountains of rubbish piled along the impassible street.\n\n\"Apparently.\" Ivan said, then set his shoulders. \"Let's go find out.\" He was fervently thankful he'd been able to convince Rosa to sit this one out. Even if Aleksei and the others were not familiar with this area, he was far too familiar. His work for Oleg had brought him here much too often...more than he would ever admit, even under duress. They climbed the filthy staircase, the smells of rats, sour or rotten garbage, and death assaulting them harshly after a month in Oleg's most upscale club-slash-hotel-slash-actually legal brothel. The brothel part, Ivan thought, with a slight but nearly silent chuckle, had certainly kept Yuri's interest, and kept Aleksei busy deflecting him from every whore that walked by.\n\nThey stood outside the door the address indicated for a long moment, exchanging glances before finally Ivan raised his hand to knock. Just as he did, a greasy looking middle-aged man came out and shoved past them, heading for the stairs, slamming the door behind him so Ivan had no choice but to knock. And so, he did.\n\nAfter a moment, the door popped open and they found themselves eye-to-eye with the feminine likeness of Aleksei, only she looked so emaciated and so sickly the resemblance almost escaped them. She took one look at them, then at Yuri specifically, and said, \"I do not do birthday parties...or virgins.\" And slammed the door, or would have if Ivan hadn't stopped it with his foot. \"Fuck off, I do not care how pretty you think you are, I do not have group rates.\" She repeated, but Ivan pushed the door open, then grabbed her and looked at her eyes.\n\n\"Is her. Has to be.\" Ivan said, but Aleksei was stricken dumb, completely in shock, his mouth hanging wide open as he stared at her. Yuri was growling, his interest was clearly not wholesome. Dmitri was watching all of this through narrowed eyes looking as if he were trying to remember something, and yet simultaneously trying to see how it all played out. \"We are not here for party, we are your brothers.\"\n\n\"My brothers are dead.\" She tried to slam the door again but couldn't budge it against Ivan's strong forearm. \"Do not make me call out. I have body-guard downstairs.\"\n\n\"You mean you have pimp downstairs. Let us in. We are not here for fuck. We are here to find out more about you.\" Ivan said, but she was adamant.\n\n\"If you want to come in, then you have to pay. You know how this business works. I have seen you around this district enough times to know. You are Oleg Korzhakov's nephew, Prince of his crime syndicate. You do not fool me. Brothers indeed.\" She said, tiredly. Finally, Yuri grabbed Ivan's wallet from his back pocket, pulled out some bills and handed them to her. Ivan glared at him.\n\n\"What? We do not need to be doing this in hallway. Anyone could hear.\" Yuri hissed at him and Ivan shrugged as she stepped aside and let them enter. He snatched his wallet back from Yuri and returned it to its rightful place.\n\n\"Boy has some sense of business even if rest of you do not. Are you sure you are virgin?\" She asked him, stroking his cheek, bringing a growl of longing from him just before Aleksei yanked him away from her and made him sit on the threadbare, filthy and smelly couch. On the table were all the workings of a heroin addict, and Aleksei frowned at it, but said nothing as his eyes settled back on his twin, who was now leaning against the small space of wall between the tiny and sadly under-furnished kitchen and the bedroom that was seemingly the only thing that had had any decorating at all. Which, when he thought on it, seemed appropriate for her business purposes.\n\n\"He is not 'boy' he is thirty.\" Ivan said, watching Dmitri, who was also staring at her with distinct interest. \"We are not here to talk about him. He is only one in room not related to you, anyway.\"\n\n\"Now that is real shame. Of course, being related never stopped my so-called father.\" She snorted, staring at the heroin and then Aleksei, suspiciously. \"Do not be touching my smack.\"\n\n\"You need not worry about that, I am doctor. I can get much better if I want it much easier than you can.\" He snapped at her and for the first time she actually showed interest in him. \"Did you say...you do not mean...Lavrov?\"\n\n\"Da, I mean Lavrov. Who in hell else would I mean? I did not get carried to safety by our bitch mother. She left me with him...something to keep him from coming after her.\"\n\nAleksei looked as if words had failed him at this point, and it was Dmitri who spoke, finally. \"What is your name, for starters, that might help.\"\n\n\"My name, Prince Viktor, is Anya, a good name match for my twin Aleksandr.\" She said, looking to Aleksei, who was shaking his head vigorously, as if in denial of something.\n\n\"My name is Dmitri now, our mama changed it. His is Aleksei...it was changed also...to protect us from...\"\n\n\"From Lavrov? Da, I know.\" She said, then fished a cigarette out of the front of her super-low cut dress, not that she had any breasts to speak of, she was that emaciated. \"When did you find out about me?\"\n\n\"I found out about one month or so ago.\" Aleksei finally found his voice, but it was strained, almost angry, which startled Ivan somehow as he observed, silently. He was standing in front of the door, arms crossed, making it clear she was not leaving until this meeting ended.\n\n\"Has been couple years since I found address...but I did not know until few days ago whose it might be. Even then was only speculation.\" Dmitri said as she approached him, fearlessly.\n\n\"So, you are warrior archetype. Brawn, no brains.\" She then turned to Aleksei, \"You are brains with no brawn...and you are gay, which is typical among males of your archetype. But you....I am so sorry I am related to you...I would give you free ride just to find out if you live up to legend. If you are my brother...what archetype are you?\"\n\n\"Half-brother...and engaged to be married, so no thank you even so.\" Ivan said to her as she frowned up at him. \"We can get you out of this life...if you are interested.\" He knew damn well they were getting her out even if she wasn't interested, but it was better not to say that. She would panic. No, he would discuss it with them once they left, and then they would decide how to go about a sort of family intervention. This, he expected, was going to get messy.\n\n**Chapter 63**\n\nAleksei put a firm hand on Yuri's thigh, stopping his slow progress towards the stage. \"Why are we meeting in here, of all places?\" He snapped and Dmitri smirked at him.\n\n\"Problems, doctor?\" He watched Yuri's eyes following the dancers on stage, in Oleg's top gentlemen's club, downstairs from their expensive suites.\n\n\"Nyet, no problem. Just do not much care for view that is all.\" Aleksei said, then rolled his eyes when Dmitri slapped the bare backside of a passing waitress and demanded another bottle of vodka. \"Really? You are on your third bottle.\"\n\n\"I would say you sound like our mother, but then I do not remember her.\" Dmitri said, slipping a bill in the waitress's skimpy G-string. \"Why do we not meet later, hm?\"\n\n\"Da, sir.\" She scurried away to get his requested drink, glancing back and giggling as Ivan rounded the corner. Turning, the waitress saw him, squawked in terror, and disappeared. The barman brought out the bottle instead. \"You scared off my date!\"\n\n\"We have more important matters than you chasing ass, Dmitri,\" Ivan said, pointedly, taking the bottle that had been meant for his half-brother. He twisted off the cap and drank half of it in one go. \"Yuri, rein it in or I will sedate you myself. And I do not use medication.\"\n\nYuri glared at him insolently, but slouched down in the booth as low as he could as if trying to avoid the writhing, bare flesh around him. \"Why did we come here if I cannot look at merchandise?\"\n\n\"Problem is not you looking, Yuri, is you wanting to touch, da? You know what these women are, so keep hands off of them.\" Ivan said, and for the first time Aleksei realized just how tired he looked.\n\n\"How is Rosa?\" Dmitri suddenly asked and Yuri stiffened slightly and growled defensively. \"Easy, Yuri, just question that is all. I have been...I have...I spent enough time with her before...\"\n\n\"Before you raped her?\" Aleksei shot out and Ivan slammed his fist on the table, making everyone in the vicinity, except Dmitri, jump. \"Sorry Ivan, but is true.\"\n\n\"Da, Aleksei, and is not something I am proud of.\" Dmitri said, quietly. \"She is feistiest, proudest, smartest woman I ever met. If it were not for situation I...\" he trailed off when he realized how Ivan was looking at him.\n\n\"What is he going on about, Ivan?\" Aleksei asked, finally, when neither of the men spoke, only stared angrily at each other.\n\n\"Oh...you have not told them. I am sorry...I just thought you would have...shared.\" Dmitri took the bottle and finished it, then signaled for another.\n\n\"She lost baby, Aleksei.\" Ivan said, softly. \"She says riding on rough terrain, stress, all of it...was too much.\"\n\n\"Oh...God Ivan I am sorry. Why did you not tell us?\" Aleksei asked, but Ivan was already on his feet, throwing down some money for the bottle he had half drunk.\n\n\"I forbid any of you to speak to her of this unless she approaches you.\" Ivan said, then started to walk away before glancing back. \"Let Yuri have some fun, just...keep him out of back room. I am going somewhere quiet where I can think.\"\n\nBefore Aleksei could say a word to Yuri, he had bounced over the back of the booth and was at the stage, staring up like a child at Christmas. \"I do not expect you to stay.\" He said to Dmitri and soon, he too had moved closer to the stage, and then to the back room with two or three of the dancers. He admonished Yuri, chasing him back out when he tried to follow, and finally, when he ran out of money, Yuri came back to Aleksei and sat, quietly. \"Did you get your fill?\"\n\n\"You know I like both, why can you not let me look?\" Yuri said, quietly, his fingers intertwining with Aleksei's under the table. Being gay was frowned upon heavily still, so they had to be careful to not show affection in public. Especially not in a gentlemen's club. \"Rosa?\"\n\nAleksei looked up and saw her hurrying towards them, a look of distaste stamped on her pretty face as she passed by a bouncer who had said something she clearly didn't like. \"He asked me to...he thought...Ivan would have killed him if he heard that!\"\n\n\"Well, you are woman coming into strip-club.\" Yuri pointed out, unhelpfully.\n\n\"Thank you, Yuri. I came because I have not seen Ivan for hours.\" She said, taking a seat as a few men passed, commenting on her being over-dressed for a dancer. \"I do not work here, assholes.\"\n\n\"Sorry, sorry!\" One of them said, mockingly, then he and his friend stumbled on, Yuri growling furiously from his seat.\n\n\"What? But...how can that be? Where on Earth could he have gone...?\" Aleksei said, flagging down a dancer. He spoke to her in hurried tones, explaining he needed her to take a note, which he scribbled hurriedly on a cocktail napkin, to the one-eyed man in the back with some of the girls. Then he gave her half of a huge tip he promised to give her the other half when she had his response. She hurried and away and returned, looking pale.\n\n\"He...he is gone, sir. Girls back there...I need to call Boss.\" The young woman said and Yuri was on his feet, clearing the table in time to catch her before she fell out in a dead faint.\n\n\"Come on, Yuri, we need to see what bastard has done now.\" Aleksei said as he picked up the house phone and rang into Oleg's office. As soon as he'd relayed what the waitress had told them, he and Yuri walked towards the back, Aleksei filled with a sense of dread, but he could feel only excitement radiating off of the man beside him. \"Hey, Yuri, stop. We are not going back there for sex, okay? We have to see what damage has been done so we can gauge his intent. Yuri, look at me. If Dmitri has fled, that can only mean he has turned and intends to come after us once more. This is not the time for you to be acting out, okay?\" He got a grunt and a nod, but Yuri's dark eyes were still intently focused on the back room. Shaking his head, he pushed past the guards at the door, telling them to take it up with their boss, who was Yuri's uncle. They eyed Yuri, then shrugged and let him pass just as a call came in telling them to admit the doctor and the man with him. Medical emergency was all Aleksei heard.\n\nThey found the room and Aleksei walked in, his hand clasped over his mouth as Yuri sniffed the air and growled, his body tense. \"He has turned,\" was all he said before his eyes found the window, which had been blacked out with paint, shattered and bloody.\n\n**Chapter 64**\n\nIvan woke and shook his head, then spat out a mess of what appeared to be leftover vomit and blood, though he hadn't a clue how it had got in his mouth. His muscles seized painfully and he winced, it was a feeling he was familiar with, having been tased more than once in his life. Who, though, had done this to him? He opened his eyes and found he was in a dimly lit and small room, much like a hospital room one might see in a mental ward. The door had a lock on it and he knew without testing it, he was locked in. His clothing was gone, all he had was a flimsy hospital gown, which did little to cover him so he arranged it like a makeshift loincloth after emptying his bladder in the stainless steel toilet and waited to see whose idea of a joke this was.\n\nIt seemed like hours passed by before the door opened and what looked like suspiciously like an orderly came into the room carrying a tray. \"Good morning, 436-2080, how did you sleep?\"\n\n\"Name is Ivan. What is this place?\" Ivan asked, as the man set out his food on a hospital-like serving tray.\n\n\"You will find out soon enough, 436-2080. Eat up, they will not be talking to you if you do not eat your breakfast.\" Ivan hated the way this man scolded him as if he were a mushy headed insane person, and he wanted badly to fling the tray at the man. Instead, he took it and started eating, making a face at how bland the food was as it had no seasoning to speak of.\n\n\"Can I not get salt and pepper at least?\" He asked,\n\n\"No, 436-2080, you are on intake diet. You must be detoxified, but doctor will tell you all you need to know. Eat up, I will collect your tray when you are done.\" The man left, locking the door behind him. He was as good as his word and, Ivan realized, he must have been watching because he came back in as soon as the tray was nearly empty and whisked it away, leaving Ivan a large bottle of water that tasted as if it had something in it. Not long after, the door opened again, this time admitting a bespectacled man who appeared to be in his mid-sixties.\n\n\"Welcome home, 436-2080.\" He beamed over his clipboard, seemingly not at all bothered by Ivan's bemused expression.\n\n\"My name is Ivan, why do people keep calling me by this number?\" He asked, beginning to get a little bit annoyed at their refusal to use his name.\n\n\"Because, that is your name. You are number four hundred, thirty-six of five hundred, born in the year 2080.\" The doctor offered and now Ivan was even more confused.\n\n\"Five-hundred...what?\"\n\n\"Why, five hundred others just like yourself. That is why I welcomed you home, do you not see?\" The doctor's condescending tone was beginning to annoy, too, now that Ivan thought about it.\n\n\"I have home. Is in Moscow with...\"\n\n\"With late Sergei Korzhakov? Da, I know. But he was not your father, as in, he was not who fertilized egg that grew to become you. No one was. You were completely and totally created in this very facility.\" The doctor said, then paused and made a few notes on the clipboard. \"We waited until your mother was ready, we had been monitoring her for some time. Then, on same night she was first with Sergei in Moscow...we implanted you. Of course, as I said, neither of them knew. We kept it that way.\"\n\n\"Because of men like my half-brothers?\" Ivan sneered at him, he was liking where this was going less and less.\n\n\"Ah, 1723-2070, 1724-2070 and 1806-2079. We had such hope for 1806-2079, but he was just as insane, just as unstable as all others from that breeding pool.\" He smiled sadly. \"Nyet, we did not perfect breeding technique until we perfected ability to create our own living semen and ova only then did we achieve our goal.\"\n\n\"Then why do you need me? If you have four hundred and ninety-nine others...\" Ivan said, but the doctor was shaking his head.\n\n\"There is only one. Female born at almost exact same time as you, 435-2080.\" The doctor sighed, made another note. \"She is why we needed you.\"\n\n\"Nyet. I am not breeding anything. Besides, I cannot. I am sterile.\" Ivan said, stubbornly.\n\n\"I think that we both know that is not true, 436-2080.\" He held up a lab report and Ivan snatched it out of his hand, only to glance at it before dropping it on the floor. The doctor bent and scooped it up, looking ruffled. \"It was not until we found those vials of blood in your so-called uncle's compound that we discovered exciting news. Not only did we have two survivors, we now knew that we had two fertile survivors. So, in time military has ever so kindly spent looking for you, we have been preparing female so that her enzymes are synchronized to allow successful mating.\"\n\n\"And then...would you let me go?\" Ivan asked, warily, sure of the answer before the doctor spoke, though he needed to hear it for himself.\n\n\"Of course not, my dear man! You are too much of threat out there, you could tell anyone our secrets now that you know them. And if you fell into enemy hands, they could use you against us.\" The doctor was rising now. \"Nyet, you will produce one child for us, which is all we need. One fertilized embryo, actually, and then you will be...discontinued.\"\n\nIvan groaned and sank back onto the bed, which fortunately for the doctor was bolted tightly to the floor. How on Earth was he going to get out of this one?\n\n**Chapter 65**\n\nOne of the young women was, for lack of a better word, disemboweled, the other appeared to only have been strangled. The third, however, was still clinging to life, and Aleksei skidded on his knees to her side, sliding through blood on the floor. \"Who did this, who did this?\" He asked her, over and over, as she stared at the window in sheer terror. \"Hey, who did this to you, to them?\"\n\n\"He was...we were...and then someone...window shattered and man came in, built about like him,\" she pointed a badly shaking and bloody hand at Yuri, \"he...he did this...and then...man who was with us chased him back out and...I could see...I could see them wrestling with him and there was another man...big blonde...and they Tasered them and dragged them both away.\" She said as Aleksei did all he could to stabilize her. In the end, she lost her battle, these wounds were meant to kill, not to injure, and they had been inflicted just so as to let her live long enough to share the story.\n\n\"They want us to come outside, Yuri. They are out there, waiting. Probably waiting for me, not you, since you were not in program.\" Aleksei said as they left the back room of the strip club and headed back upstairs. \"Trick is to figure out who...\"\n\n\"Where is Ivan?\" Rosa asked, then seeing the look on Aleksei's face, she turned to run for the exit but Oleg caught her. \"Let...me...go!\"\n\n\"Nyet, sweet girl. Come up to my office, let us talk, hm? You are in more danger than you can possibly know. If you run out of building you will probably be dead inside of an hour.\" Oleg whispered to her, loud enough that only Aleksei and Yuri heard over the loud music in the club. She slumped and let him lead her then, stopping to converse heavily with the door man, who had made the crude comment to her. He apologized to Rosa, but she did not seem to notice, her eyes were fixed on the escalators.\n\n\"She will try to run.\" Aleksei said, in Russian, and as her Russian was still relatively poor, she did not understand. Oleg nodded as two men joined them, flanking both he and Rosa. Yuri and Aleksei had no intention, for the time being, of leaving the safety they knew the hotel afforded them. Not until they had something concrete planned.\n\n**Chapter 66**\n\nTwo weeks passed before they received any word one way or another about the fate of both Ivan and Dmitri. When they finally did it was unexpected, almost, and it came in a most surprising manner. Aleksei was picking at his breakfast and eyeing Rosa to make sure she actually touched her own. Yuri had been bunking up with her at night, crawling into bed with Aleksei at daybreak most mornings, exhausted, his long black hair matted with tears from her incessant crying.\n\nInitially, the doctor had himself attempted sleeping in the same room with her but he was little help, as he hadn't a clue how to comfort a female. Yuri, on the other hand, had some experience with women, and after many reassurances nothing would happen between them, and many sleepless nights of despair for the doctor, who was trying everything to comfort her, Aleksei gave in.\n\nFinally, she had started sleeping through the night, but only just, and Yuri had actually made it down to breakfast looking as if he had slept the previous night. He was wolfing down his own meal with all of the table manners of a, well, wolf. When Rosa looked up behind Aleksei, she gasped and promptly dropped her spoon so that it clattered hard against her barely-touched bowl of hot cereal. Yuri followed her gaze and cursed, a growl rose from him so quickly that even Aleksei was compelled turn in his seat look.\n\nThere, arguing with two security guards, was Dmitri, who was holding a simple white envelope and to their shocked surprise, he once again had a working right eye. His long, curly hair was no more, shorn down now in such a way that it was clear he was back in the hands of the military. After a time, Oleg appeared looking sleepy and rather unamused at having been awakened before ten in the morning, but when he set eyes on Dmitri his sleepiness passed in favor of looking likely to faint. He saw Dmitri was looking towards the other three and motioned them to come to him, so they obeyed, all eager to hear what was about to be said.\n\n\"If you will follow me this way...er...sir, we will go up to my office. I am sure your employers do not wish you to speak about such sensitive things in public, da?\" Oleg said, not waiting for a response, and getting none, he turned and headed up the stairs in the central lobby, which led directly to his office on the second floor. If a person knew where they were going, there was a much faster path but he wasn't about to show Dmitri the way if he didn't remember, and he didn't seem to.\n\nOnce they were safely inside the office, Dmitri turned to them and introduced himself in a flat, toneless, expressionless voice, to Aleksei's ears, he almost sounded robotic. \"I am 1806-2079. I have been sent to deliver message from 436-2080 as part of his conditions for surrender.\"\n\n\"I am sorry, who?\" Aleksei asked, after translating, but Dmitri simply handed him the envelope, and he opened it. The letter within was addressed to Rosa, so he passed it to her, and she read it, her face growing paler by the moment as she read and then re-read it at least four times.\n\n\"436-2080, my counterpart. He has agreed to surrender to program under certain conditions, mainly that 1723-2070, 1724-2070, Yuri Korzhakov, and woman he only called Rosa would be allowed to live without any threat from Russian government. Also, he has requested those people not attempt to seek him out, as doing so would constitute breach of agreement, putting all parties in danger.\" Dmitri turned as a fourth person entered, Anya, looking much happier and healthier now that Aleksei had gotten her weaned off of drugs, though the smile faded quickly when she set eyes on Dmitri. \"1723-2070.\"\n\n\"I take it I am 1724-2070?\" Aleksei asked, as Rosa dropped the letter, her arm falling to her side as she swayed, looking dangerously faint. Anya helped her to a chair and Oleg put his hands on Rosa's shoulders, comfortingly, as he stood behind her, eyeing Dmitri with a protective glare.\n\n\"That is correct.\" Dmitri said in the same monotone voice. His eyes were glassy and, as Aleksei observed, one of them, the right one, the new one, looked about three shades lighter in color than the left. He winced, wondering who the donor of the eye had been, but did not comment. \"If all is okay here, and we are in agreement, I will be going.\"\n\n\"Wait...what will happen to him now that he has surrendered to program?' Oleg asked, hesitantly, as if he knew already he wouldn't like the answer.\n\n\"He will be discontinued, same as I, upon my return to facility this morning.\" Dmitri said, then turned to go.\n\n\"Take me with you.\" Anya said, and he turned back, and everyone looked at her in shocked surprise, especially Yuri, who had been stalking her in his free time for days, though she was not interested and had told him as much. In a very blunt, very rude manner.\n\n\"That was not part of deal, 1723-2070. 436-2080 specifically requested you not be harmed.\" Dmitri didn't seem to know how to deal with a deviation in the plan, so he turned again to leave.\n\n\"Fuck his deal. I do not want to live! Do you not remember what I have become?\" Anya asked, moving towards him. He turned and stared at her a moment, then turned to leave again, seeming unable to respond to her outburst on his own accord. Oleg caught Anya by the arm, gently, pulling her back to him and away from Dmitri.\n\nRosa jumped up so suddenly everyone flinched and grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk. She sorted through and then clipped a lock of her hair from underneath, close to her skin as possible. It was clear that Dmitri had been anticipating an attack at her movement, he had braced himself and his body was tense under his military fatigues. When instead she held out the hair, he only relaxed and then looked at it, bemusedly.\n\n\"Give this to...to 436...please. To let him know deal has been accepted?\" She said, and only then did he take it, nodding his silent agreement. After a moment, he held it up and took a deep breath, his dark eyes swiveling to her immediately.\n\n\"Do I know you?\" He asked, and there was something in his voice that gave even Oleg pause.\n\n\"You did, once.\" Rosa said, then cut another lock of her long hair. \"Here, take this one to him and keep other one for yourself. Deal?\" Again, he nodded, his eyes regaining their glazed-over appearance once more. He stood staring at the two locks of hair, one in each hand, for a long moment. It was only when Oleg spoke to Anya that he even seemed to remember he had to be somewhere, and then moved towards the door.\n\n\"Let him go, my dear. I need you to stay. I need help with re-homing dancers and others when their contracts are up. You speak their language, you know what they need. I have good reputation for helping my employees, but truth is, I feel that I could do better. Stay with me, Anya...\" he said, almost pleadingly.\n\nDmitri opened the door and exited, closing it quietly behind him and disappearing into the morning light as if he had never been there. Yuri glanced down at the letter, read it and then sat hard on the floor before handing it to Aleksei with a violently trembling left hand. He did not cry, not immediately, not there in front of everyone, no more than Aleksei did. When they were safely back in their suite, however, it was hard to say who howled the loudest. The letter read:\n\n_\" My Rosa,_\n\n_Get Aleksei and Yuri out of city. I know they do not wish to go, but they must. They cannot save me from my fate, any more than you can. Know that I will always love you and that I will breathe my last thinking only of your face. _\n\n_Goodbye, sweet one,_\n\n_Ivan \"_\n\n**Chapter 67**\n\n\"It is done.\" Dmitri said, tonelessly, and Ivan gave a heavy sigh, then looked down as Dmitri held out something between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. A lock of highlighted brown hair. \"Woman named Rosa sends this, as proof deal has been accepted. She gave 1806-2079 lock of hair, too. 1806-2079 thinks she might have known us, but cannot remember how. Cannot remember...cannot...\" He shook his head vehemently, as if trying to chase away the memory, rather than admit it. Ivan wondered at that. Had Dmitri not been reprogrammed? Then how did he now remember her, even if he did not want to? Did that mean it would be possible? No, of course not. There was no coming back from death, which was where he now knew he was headed.\n\n\"I would ask how they all took it but you have no clue how human emotion works, am I right?\" No answer, but then, Ivan had come to expect none. Whatever had been Dmitri was dead, just as dead as his body was about to be, along with Ivan's own. He nodded to the doctors then, a whole team of them, and went back to his small room, still not thrilled, but knowing full well it was this or watch Rosa, Yuri, Aleksei, and even Oleg die. They were as good as their threats, after seeing what Dmitri had gone through to be reprogrammed he had no doubt of this. He held the hair gently and stroked it, smelling on it the faint scent of Rosa. His Rosa.\n\nTucking it safely under one of the many military training manuals, all he had been allowed as entertainment, not that he'd bothered. He turned to face 435-2080, who was now entering the room. She looked something between overjoyed and already half in love with him, a sentiment which sickened him. He was wearing only too-short hospital scrubs pants and she was wearing only a thin hospital gown. The lights dimmed and he knew the doctors were crowded just beyond a two-way mirror, observing. The mating would be clinical, surgical almost, he refused to derive any pleasure from it. Procreation, he told himself. More for the survival of his family because, after the mating, he would be euthanized. The thought chilled his blood.\n\nOnce the procedure, as he preferred to think of it, was over, Ivan was not even provided food or a shower. He was simply led into a different room where there were two gurneys. Dmitri was already on one, his arm outstretched, his head turned towards Ivan. No one spoke, they simply guided Ivan to lie down before stretching his arm out and strapping it to a cold metal armrest. He watched as the needle was inserted, then closed his eyes and let his mind take him back to the first night he'd been with Rosa, when she had come to Chicago to find him. As his respiration slowed, there was a small smile on his face and finally, blissfully, the dream faded into blackness.\n\n**Chapter 68**\n\n_Two Years Later_\n\nRosa laughed and watched over the top of her sunglasses as Yuri floated on his back letting the squirming, blonde-haired toddler girl splash at the water. Twice now he had copped a large amount straight in the face and given an over-exaggerated reaction, bringing a cackle from the girl. Finally, as if bored of the game, she jumped off of him and he rolled out of the donut-shaped float he'd been sitting in to assist her to the side. Already she was a strong swimmer, thanks to having been in the pool almost daily since she was only a few months old.\n\nShe crawled out onto the side, with Yuri's help, and grabbed her drink bottle from Rosa before wandering back to her toys, which were in the shade far from the water. She was big for her age, or rather, tall, and she possessed a fiercely independent spirit, much like her father. She learned very quickly, too, and was already speaking with words no two year old should have known. It had always been so, even as an infant she had been different, not prone to crying, even when hungry or in need of a diaper change. Rosa had been able to easily teach her to swim by the time she was a year old, and the girl even knew the pool was not to be taken lightly. She understood the threat of drowning, so she stayed away from it when no adults were present. In fact, she wouldn't even come out of the house without someone accompanying her.\n\nHer features were so like Ivan that, from birth, it had been heartbreaking for Rosa, who had held her and wept for days on end. Her hair was like soft-spun white gold, and even slightly wavy like her father's. She had also inherited his unnaturally blue eyes, and had that intense way of staring at people, even at a few months old, that let you know she was absorbing everything. Aleksei had been teaching her how to write already, and she was reading books that were highly difficult, even for the doctors in the family. If she did not know a word, she did not ask but rather looked it up herself. Rosa had been teaching her Spanish and between Aleksei and Yuri she had picked up on Russian, so they had to be careful just what they were discussing in her presence.\n\nAs they sat by the pool in a shaded cabana-style canvas tent large enough for a small dinner party, Yuri was about to speak when Aleksei's phone rang behind him. He turned to grab it, but Aleksei beat him to it, smirking at Yuri's expression. \"Moscow number.\" He said and immediately all three adults were crowded around the phone, interested. Rosa hurriedly fixed the front of her bathing suit so as not to give whoever was calling a free show of cleavage, which had greatly increased with the birth of her daughter. She saw Yuri watching her and shot him a look, he blushed and looked away quickly, as if realizing what he'd been doing. Aleksei answered the call and a familiar face immediately appeared on the screen, beaming back at them.\n\n\"Yuri if you get any uglier I am calling circus.\" Oleg said, earning him a rude hand gesture, and Yuri a smack on the back of the head from both Rosa and Aleksei respectively. \"I have news.\"\n\n\"What has happened?\" Aleksei asked, cautiously, though they knew it couldn't be terrible, Oleg was looking far too happy.\n\n\"Anya and I are getting married.\" He said, and a woman's hand appeared from somewhere waving a rock that would have sunk a large yacht. Maybe a small freighter, to be more accurate.\n\n\"Well, that was unexpected.\" Aleksei spluttered with excitement and genuine happiness. He and Yuri had been married in a very low-key ceremony, even though most countries still did not recognize it, the fact that they had vowed themselves to each other meant everything. \"Congrats to both of you.\"\n\n\"That is not all.\" He turned the phone and Aleksei dropped his own phone in absolute shock. Yuri caught it just before it hit the pavement, then handed it back to the doctor so they could all stare. Anya was pregnant, and not just a little bit, she looked likely to give birth any day.\n\n\"Oleg...how...?\" Aleksei asked, his tanned face paling slightly, though he doubted Oleg could tell that over the phone, and he was thankful for that.\n\n\"We do not know. I have had...well, I am not supposed to be able and Anya says she has always been unable...is strangest thing.\" Aleksei and the other two exchanged glances, though they all remained silent as Oleg turned the phone again so they could see him. \"Reason I am calling is...we know child is boy and Anya says, for some reason she is compelled to name him Ivan. I wonder if is okay with you if she does this?\"\n\n\"I...I cannot see why not...\" Aleksei said, faintly, his mind clearly racing.\n\n\"We have not been entirely honest with you, either, Oleg.\" Rosa said, then motioned to the child. When she came over, Rosa picked her up, \"Meet Elizabeta Ivanova. Your niece.\"\n\n\"So,\" Oleg smirked, \"Which one of them does she call mama?\"\n\n\"Me!\" Rosa said, in a mock-offended tone.\n\n\"Thank God for that...I would have to cry foul if you told me those ugly bastards were her parents.\" He smiled brilliantly, knowing full well who Elizabeta's parents were. \"I will let you know when baby is born, should be any day now, as I am sure you can tell. _Dasvedanya_.\"\n\n\"That baby...it can't be...\" Rosa said, her smile fading almost as quickly as the call ended. \"Is it?\"\n\n\"I am afraid there is no other explanation.\" Aleksei said as Yuri looked from one to the other, taking Lizzie, as they called her, from Rosa, as she was squirming to get to him anyway. \"Ivan's clone.\"\n\n\"No...\" Yuri said, then, clutching Lizzie to him, he walked away, as if he wanted to not hear all that he had just heard. To be honest, none of them had.\n\n**Chapter 69**\n\nAleksei sighed and leaned back in the soft leather chair in his private study, his eyes on the skylights which were now darkened as it was late at night. He blinked as lightning forked across the sky, but did not jump when the inevitable boom of thunder followed. Instead, he waited for the thunder to fade so that he could once again hear the droning, steady sound of the rain that was falling in near sheets outside the home he shared with Rosa, Lizzie, and of course, Yuri.\n\nThree months ago, he would have been able to definitively say that Yuri was upstairs asleep in the bed they shared. But, in the past few months since Ivan and Lizzie's shared christening, which had been held in Spain so that they might be named godparents, Yuri had taken up a new habit. One Aleksei did not understand any more than he was comfortable with it. Now, as he sat in the virtual complete darkness, it burned in the doctor's brain, this new habit. Actual anger surged through him even as exhausted as he was, when he thought on it.\n\nHe wasn't sure how long it had been going on but, about a month after the ceremony, in which he and Yuri were named co-godfathers and Rosa was named godmother, he had first noticed it. Something had awakened him in the middle of the night, he could not remember what; maybe it was just the absence of Yuri's usual warmth beside him. Maybe it had been something else entirely. Thinking he must be having a night skinny-dip, Aleksei had slipped downstairs to find him, to make sure he was okay if he was in fact swimming. Instead, he found no sign of Yuri anywhere in the house or the pool area.\n\nNot given to panic, because in truth there were many places on the property, it was a big compound with guest houses and acres of land, Yuri might have wandered to. Aleksei did the logical thing in that he walked out to one of the guard houses the next morning, to ask the men charged with their security what they had seen. Of course, by then Yuri had been sound asleep in the bed and, though he told himself it wasn't possible, because Yuri didn't drink and he never had, Aleksei was almost certain he caught a whiff of alcohol on his lover. He had asked the man who had been in charge the night before, the man who was in the process of leaving for the day, if he'd seen Yuri.\n\nAt first, the man hadn't wanted to answer but, when Aleksei reminded him that it was his name on the paychecks, the man had confessed. He, or one of the dozen men on staff at night, depending on who was monitoring the cameras, had seen Yuri going over the back perimeter fence several times in the past few weeks. It always late at night and, the man added, so far as he knew Yuri never returned until just before sunrise. In just enough time to make it to bed before Aleksei rose and did his morning yoga on the pool deck. Often, the guard had told him, he and Aleksei had very nearly run into each other, and it had taken the doctor some time to realize these must have been the mornings he had risen to find Yuri crashed out in front of the television downstairs.\n\nSo, Aleksei had started to not going to sleep immediately, but rather fighting to stay awake, waiting and listening to see what Yuri did. Sure enough, three to four times a week, he went out over the back wall, Aleksei had tapped into the security system and stealthily slipped his notebook computer under the bed. As soon as Yuri departed stealthily, Aleksei would grab it and watch the view from the cameras on the back of the house. It wasn't just that he was going out for a walk, because Aleksei had watched him dress in nice clothing, even taking time in the bathroom to apply cologne. The clothes he left in never made it back upstairs into their rooms, and try as he might Aleksei could never catch them because Yuri washed them himself. Once, Aleksei had stirred when the bedroom door opened and pretended to have been awakened, to see how this was possible, and he found Yuri slipping into the bedroom in nothing but boxer-briefs. Later, Aleksei said nothing, just pretended as if it hadn't happened, but his heart hurt him to think that Yuri was stepping out, going somewhere with someone that he didn't want Aleksei to know about.\n\nThat thought, the thought of Yuri being unfaithful to him with another man, was almost more than Aleksei could bear. He moved to slam his notebook computer closed, then jerked his hand back as the internet video calling program they used to keep in touch with Oleg and Anya rang, startling him half-to-death, as the volume was at full on the computer. Thanking God his study door was closed so it didn't disturb the whole house, Aleksei frantically turned down the volume before answering, quietly. \"Oleg?\"\n\n\"Aleksei...I...\" Oleg said, he was very pale and even over the connection, which was poor due to the raging thunderstorm, Aleksei could tell he was clammy with sweat, though he doubted it was the type one got from exercise. No, the doctor could tell, this was a man who was absolutely terrified. \"I...I do not...\"\n\n\"Oleg...what has happened?\" Aleksei sat up stiff in his chair, all thoughts of Yuri's nocturnal activities completely forgotten, for the moment, anyway. \"What? Is Anya okay...and is baby safe?\"\n\n\"I...it was earlier this afternoon...I wanted to wait to make sure they were gone...\" Oleg said, then lifted a glass of clear liquid Aleksei was willing to bet was vodka, his hand trembling badly. \"It...I saw...it was Ivan and...and Dmitri...\"\n\n\"Nyet...it cannot be...are you certain?\" Aleksei felt like having a drink now, himself. \"What...what did they want?\"\n\n\"They...they wanted Ivan...baby Ivan...I...I sent Anya and our baby to...to Spain. I smuggled them out in cargo plane...it will not be comfortable trip for either but I had to make sure...\" Oleg took another drink, and Aleksei saw as his face shifted and the lighting changed, that he was or had recently been crying. \"I had to be sure...but if they know where Rosa's summer home...where your home is...\"\n\n\"They used to, cannot say now, though I am certain Russian government will find us if they want baby given back. Call Ndigwe, tell him to launch cover story, already he knows what to do.\" Aleksei was already buttoning up his shirt, preparing to go wake Rosa and then pack. \"There are places we can go, fail safes I and I alone know about. And Oleg? Be careful...these are not your nephews anymore. They are not to be trifled with.\"\n\n\"Da, I know.\" Oleg held up a badly broken hand for an instant before Aleksei saw someone grab the wrist gently and pull it back down. \"It will be miracle, doctor says, if I can ever write again. Ivan did this, and it looked like Dmitri enjoyed it, if you follow my meaning.\"\n\n\"God. Some things never change. When can I expect Anya and baby Ivan?\" Aleksei asked, and Oleg, who was finishing his drink, shrugged slightly, then winced, leading Aleksei to believe he'd probably been injured in more places than his hand.\n\n\"Within hour I am sure. You will receive delivery of fruit from South America. It is best cover I could come up with at such short notice, but should be sufficient since no one knows she left other than myself, my pilots and driver of truck. All men I trust.\" Oleg looked around. \"I have to go, someone is at door...\"\n\n\"Take care, Oleg.\" Aleksei closed the program and then his laptop in just enough time to hear soft feet slipping past his office door, headed towards the room he shared with Yuri. Standing and squaring his shoulders, Aleksei marched from the office and walked right up behind Yuri, shoving him into their room and then barricading the door. \"We need to talk.\" He said as Yuri turned and stared at him with wide, furious brown eyes, a dangerous glimmering in them that came mostly from his having been startled, but there was also something else there and Aleksei knew it all too well: Fear.\n\n**Chapter 70**\n\nDmitri looked in the driver's side wing-mirror of the van and cursed softly to himself; a whole lot of trouble was coming towards the parked vehicle, looking furious. Still, he couldn't help but eye the way her clearly-fake tits jiggled in her low-cut pink shirt, as she stormed up to the van, and more specifically, the high heels on which she was teetering dangerously. How far had she walked, he wondered, because the house they were observing was the furthest on out on the point, ocean on one side, sound on the other. The nearest house was at least a quarter of a kilometer away if not more. Shrugging, he leered at her in the mirror, unable to stop smiling.\n\nShe'd been harassing him for two days, as he sat waiting for Ivan to return so he could start his own shift, the night shift. This, he decided was the last time she would ever stick her overly-made-up nose in anyone's business. His eyes finally flicked away from her fake boobs, though not without a fight, he was a man, after all, but then his interest wasn't like that of a normal man, either. Her blabbing, cursing mouth turned him on and he could just imagine what it would be like to force something big in between those collagen-filled lips. Smirking at her, he watched as she drew even with the van, her pale blue eyes, which were surrounded by a ridiculous amount of pink and purple eye makeup, narrowed at his smirk.\n\n\"You just don't understand, do you? You can't fucking park here. You can't fucking be here.\" She said, spitting her gum rudely against the side of the van, speaking in her sharp New Jersey accent in English, which was clearly her first language. \"When my husband gets here next week he'll make you fucking move.\"\n\n\"I have as much right to be here as anyone else, useless bitch. It's a public street.\" Dmitri shot back at her in fluent Spanish, testing her now to see if she understood. To his surprise, she understood him and switched over just as easily. \"What if my van is broken down? Are you still going to harass me then?\"\n\n\"Ha! I don't think so mister smart-ass. It drove in here just fine about an hour ago, I...I know the security guard at the gate. He told me you've been slipping him bills to let you in.\" She smirked, seemingly proud of this knowledge. \"I don't know why he would be so stupid, it's not like the homeowners association doesn't pay him a fortune.\"\n\n\"I suppose anyone would tell you anything after you wrap those lips around their cock, yeah?\" Dmitri said, coolly, well aware of the enormous shadow standing right behind the woman, smiling nastily, waiting for her answer. He couldn't help but chuckle at the look of shocked outrage on her face, however fake it was. She wasn't a very good actor, indeed, one of the worst he'd met so far.\n\n\"What...I...What are you implying? That I...That...How dare you?!\" She said, her hand going to her pocket. \"Screw this, I know my husband won't like it but...but...I'll just call the cops.\"\n\n\"I cannot let you do that, I am afraid.\" Dmitri said, dropping all pretense of Italian and speaking English with his strong Russian accent so that her mouth dropped open and she stared at him, confused. He pushed the van door open as if he meant to hit her with it, which had just the effect he desired. She stumbled back to avoid the door hitting her, losing her balance on the unsteady high-heeled shoes. In doing so, she fell right back against Ivan, who immediately wrapped his arms around her and covered her mouth. He pinched off her nose as well, when she struggled and squealed, and held her until she blacked out from lack of oxygen. After that, it was simple enough to carry her petite frame to the back of the van and, after making sure no one was looking, climb in back with her. \"I get first ride.\" Dmitri called out, almost gleefully.\n\n\"Da, sure you do. Is your collar.\" Ivan replied, watching as their captive slowly regained consciousness and began to realize she was being kidnapped. She opened her mouth to scream but found that difficult to do as he had the barrel of his .45 between her perfectly white teeth in an instant. \"Shh, we cannot have you screaming and alerting man at gate. He rather seems to like your mouth and I wouldn't want to have to blow those pretty teeth out and disappoint him, hm?\"\n\nHer eyes glared daggers at him, but she remained quiet until they were well past the guard shack and Ivan lowered the gun. \"You...you fucking idiots are dead men, you know that, right? My husband...\"\n\n\"Da, we know, your husband is Mafia. What is your point?' Ivan said, pulling a bottled water from a small fridge unit in the back. She looked at it almost hopefully and he smirked. \"What are you willing to do for drink of water, I wonder?\"\n\n\"Not much.\" She spat, and Ivan shrugged.\n\n\"You will change your mind after a couple days with nothing but...us...to drink.\" He watched her face pale slightly, but then she seemed to fight off the fear. Slumping back, she crossed her arms and stared at the floor and his heavy, dusty but well-maintained black combat boots. The van took two lefts and then a right, bumping down the dusty service road where they had been staying in a forgotten military bunker since their arrival in Italy. One of the many left-over hiding spots from the war, only a few knew about it and one just happened to be Ivan. As it had been his hiding spot on several occasions. Though he couldn't seem to remember when or why he had hidden here.\n\nThe woman came out of the van screaming for help at the top of her screechy voice, but they were unconcerned, shoving her towards the doors that concealed the bunker. She fell once, getting dirt all over her expensive white denim pants and nearly breaking the high-heel of her shoe. Dmitri grimaced, he had a bit of a foot-thing, especially when those feet were in high-heels. After that, he scooped her up over his shoulder and carried her down into the bunker, straight into a completely blacked out room where, without turning on a light, he managed to put a collar on her. \"Now, my counterpart and I have not eaten since yesterday. Once we have...you will then find out what is like to wish for death.\"\n\n\"My God...\" The woman whispered, seeming suddenly cowed as a dim battery-powered lantern came on and she saw a filthy mattress that looked as if it had been dipped in blood two or three times over. The smell only served to turn her stomach so she had no desire to approach it, though she couldn't help but notice it was an enormous mattress, not a twin as one might expect to find in a cell. Then it occurred to her; they would come in here to do whatever they wished with her, she most likely wouldn't leave this room again alive. Praying softly, she crossed herself several times as Dmitri smirked down at her. Finally, he turned and left for whatever meal he had spoken of, for the second man had called him, and only then did she open her eyes once more, wondering how fast he would eat. Too fast, she decided, before returning to her devotions and her prayers for divine intervention, for any sort of intervention.\n\n**Chapter 71**\n\n\"I...I have never seen Oleg so shaken...it was as if he had seen ghost. But...he would not tell me what he had seen...did he tell you?\" Anya asked, looking directly at Aleksei, whom Oleg had threatened with castration if he told her. Aleksei felt the blood drain from his face. How could he hide anything from this woman, his twin sister? \"He did. I can see it on your face. But you are not going to tell me, are you?\"\n\n\"Nyet. But Anya...I want to but...he does not wish me to do so at this time, and to be honest, I agree with him. Is better you do not know. No one else knows. I have not...\" he broke off as Yuri entered the car, looking bored and miserable, which was pretty much how he had looked ever since they had left Spain on the passenger train to parts in the cold north of Europe. \"What?\"\n\n\"Wow, hello to you too.\" Yuri flopped down beside Aleksei, who immediately moved to sit next to his sister, across the aisle from the dark haired, brooding young man. \"When is this going to stop, Alex?\" When no answer came, from either person, he sighed heavily. \"Fine.\" He got up, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and retreated back to his private car. Aleksei had insisted Rosa have her own car, and Anya, but as it turned out he was so angry at Yuri, so hurt by his deception, he had ended up sleeping in Anya's and then Rosa's, alternately, leaving Yuri to sleep by himself.\n\n\"What has happened between two of you? You were so happy just few months ago at Ivan and Lizzie's christening...\" Anya said, and Aleksei put his hands over his eyes immediately, because the tears came that quick at her show of concern. \"Aleksei...oh...\" She put Ivan, who was already an enormous babe that, like Lizzie, hardly cried, even when his diaper was soiled or he was hungry, in the fold-down crib built into this berth, and wrapped her arms around him. \"Things are not okay for you, my brother...I should have seen...I am so sorry...\"\n\n\"It...I just...\" He sighed heavily and wiped his eyes angrily, then stood and pulled the shade down when he noticed Yuri was watching him with big, pitiful eyes, from the corridor. \"Just after christening, he started sneaking out at night. I do not know how long it had been going on; I only caught on because I woke up one night...I am still not sure what woke me, as I am usually very deep sleeper. Might have been dream, might have been his not being there, you know, absence of warmth. Whatever it was, I have asked myself million times why in hell I had to wake up.\"\n\n\"Because you sensed something was wrong, most likely.\" Anya said, softly, bending to plug Ivan's pacifier back in his mouth so that he continued sleeping undisturbed. \"We are sensitive to such things, are we not?\"\n\n\"I thought at first it was isolated incident, but next night, when it was time to sleep after we...after...well you know...I could not sleep. I had to know. Was it fluke or was there something more?\" Aleksei sighed and Anya pulled him back in, close to her, planting a kiss on his forehead and stroking away some errant strands of his carefully styled hair. Her own purple eyes were locked on his as she listened, and he could tell he finally had someone who would always be there for him. She always had been, now, as he looked at her, he suddenly remembered their talks as children, but in the face of his emotional troubles, he pushed it aside. \"Next night, same time, just as soon as he thought I had fallen asleep after our nightly affections...he slipped out.\"\n\n\"And what about next night?\" Anya asked, turning away only then because Ivan sighed sweetly in his sleep, a small smile played across her lips, but her face turned serious again when she returned her focus to Aleksei. \"Did he go out again?\"\n\n\"Nyet. But he did next night. Three to four nights during week and every Saturday. And...he stopped...wanting me anymore.\" Aleksei said, this admission alone reduced him to heart-wrenching sobs that were so powerful Anya got tears in her eyes and little Ivan let out a wail in his sleep that startled them both. Aleksei pressed a silk hankie to his mouth to stifle his crying, but Ivan did not wake, he slept on in peace once the sound of the doctor crying had softened. \"That...I think he...\"\n\n\"You think he is cheating on you? But with who, Aleksei? Did you see any indication other than his lack of interest and his sneaking out?\" Anya asked and he looked at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. \"You know, suck marks on his neck or other places, scratches on his back, perhaps indications he's had sex...well...down there...rawness or anything?\"\n\n\"Since he started refusing me I have not seen him completely naked. But...well...he had expansive tattooing on his back and most everywhere but his thighs and face. You have seen, he even has them on his neck...\" Aleksei said. \"I wanted to...see if maybe I could catch whiff of perfume or cologne on his clothes...he is bi-sexual, you know? But he always washes his clothing before coming to bed...\"\n\n\"Bi-sexual, you say.\" Anya got a sly look on her face then, her eyes turning towards the door, because she knew Yuri was standing just outside, listening, though their soft words could hardly be heard over the rumble of the train. \"Aleksei...would you be angry if I tried something...\"\n\n\"Anya...Oleg would kill Yuri if he found out you...had even looked...I cannot...\" He sighed heavily, then clasped her hands in his almost desperately. \"Would you do that for me?\"\n\n\"Only for you. I want to know what he has been up to as much as you. In such dangerous times is not safe for him to be sneaking and creeping. No telling who may be watching, you know?\" She raised his hands to her lips and kissed them. \"Here is what we will do...I think this should work, but you should make sure Rosa knows is okay and not to interfere...that would ruin plan. Just...promise her I will not let it go too far...even if we both know I may have to if you want information from him. Is time for old whore to teach new dog some hard lessons, da?\"\n\n\"Da.\"\n\n**Chapter 72**\n\nShe ran her fingers across the dusty, filthy floor, absently. Her throat hurt she was so parched, and she was considering offering the dark-haired one anything for a drink of water. It felt as if she'd been sitting for days, though she really didn't know how long it had been since there were no windows. The lantern had sputtered and died some time ago, and now she was left in absolute darkness, as the door to the room, which she had noticed was made of reinforced steel, was closed and locked. As if she could run with a collar on that was chained to the ceiling, oddly enough. When she thought about it, and she tried hard not to, it made sense, as she'd be more mobile this way and there was less chance of anyone tripping over the chain if it wasn't on the floor. Of course, it was when she was sitting or lying down, but not much of it.\n\nFinally, when she was about to give in and start making offers, a small door opened at the bottom of the larger door and someone shoved in a half-bottle of water and what looked like, before the small door closed, an apple. She crawled forward, sliding her hands along carefully so as not to upset the bottle, which she still almost managed to do before catching it.\n\nWithout giving a second thought to it, she drank the water in one go, not realizing maybe she should have saved some. Not considering that maybe the water was drugged. She was too thirsty and hungry for any rational thought by that point, and she devoured the apple, even the core, thinking it had to be the best, sweetest apple she'd ever tasted. Then her stomach began to feel queasy, and she thought she might vomit so she flipped the heavy mattress over in the darkness, which didn't do much to improve the smell of it, and laid down on it, curling herself into a ball.\n\nShe woke with a start to the sound of music playing very loud, very close by her, and opened her eyes, dismayed to find it was still pitch black in the underground cell. Sitting up, she realized she had to pee like mad, and crawled across the floor, feeling for the large bucket she'd seen in one of the corners near the door. After using it, and some toilet paper someone had been considerate enough to leave, she stood to pull up her tight once-white pants, but someone grabbed her hands. She shrieked and tried to recoil, but the large hands held her, and she felt him step directly in the center of what would be the crotch of her panties, actually, pushing her lower-clothing, jeans and all, down to her ankles.\n\n\"Step out.\" He said, his voice little more than a raspy whisper, so it was impossible to tell which of the two this was.\n\n\"But...but my shoes...\" She stammered.\n\n\"Keep shoes on.\" He replied, so she slipped her foot out of the shoe, then stepped back into it immediately so that he never knew the difference. When she had repeated this process with both feet, he released her and shooed her towards the bed with a slap on her bare backside. \"I said you were to keep shoes on.\"\n\n\"But I...\" He slapped her before she could say more, and she spun and fell onto the mattress. \"Fucking asshole, that was not...\" Another slap. How had he gotten so close to her so quickly?\n\nThen she realized it had been a different man, because now she was between them, one behind and one in front. The one in front of her used his bare hands to tear her shirt right down the middle, and then the one behind her peeled it off of her and unfastened her lacy royal-blue bra. Confused as to which man was which, she kept her mouth shut until she realized the man behind her was not there anymore.\n\nThese men could move faster than any she'd ever met, how they did it was a complete mystery to her, but she didn't dare ask. The man in front of her tweaked her nipples, gently at first so that she actually moaned softly, then hard enough it felt as if he might have ripped them off. The pain continued to radiate through them for several minutes after as she lay gasping, he had slapped her when she cried out at the pain.\n\nSomething cold, hard, and metallic slipped down her chest then, and she froze, stilling her breathing as much as she could, trembling now at the touch of what she knew was a knife. For a moment, she considered begging, but then realized he'd probably only hit her again and kept her mouth shut instead. A wise decision, because he would have done just that, and though she did not know it, he would have certainly enjoyed it. The knife seemed to disappear, then, but she understood the implied threat. He had a knife, and he would not hesitate to slice her to ribbons.\n\nHe moved her fingers to the buttons of his uniform shirt and she knew he wanted her to undress him, so she did, obediently. When her long, manicured nails scratched him, he shuddered slightly as if he enjoyed the sensation. Duly noted, she could use her nails, albeit lightly, and possibly later dig some DNA that might be traced if anyone ever found her body. The smell of him was overwhelmingly manly, unlike her own husband who, despite his Mafioso ego, was nothing if not a little on the feminine side. In fact, they hadn't even had children after six years of marriage. Her friends all said she was nothing but a cover story, married to cover up the fact he was gay. Why in the hell was she thinking of him at this moment, anyway? He seemed to sense he had lost her complete attention and grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head back.\n\nAt first she flinched, expecting another slap, but instead found his lips on hers, his tongue pushing into her mouth so forcefully he broke the skin on her bottom lip. After a long kiss that left her dizzy and out of breath, he paused and licked away the blood so gently it was here turn to shudder, then put her hands on his shirt so that she could continue to unbutton it. She wondered if it was the blonde or the one with dark red hair who would be having her first. True, the darker haired one had claimed her first, but the blonde didn't look like he was one to be bossed around, either. Both of them were damn fine looking men, probably a good ten years younger than her, which meant they were twenty years younger than her so-called husband, and she hoped they could at least make her die happy. She hadn't had good sex in so long she had almost forgotten what good sex was.\n\nSure, she'd fooled around from time to time when it benefitted her, but she always found those men left her wanting. Most of them were quick and ended with her not getting any enjoyment out of the ordeal at all. When her hands pushed his shirt open, she felt the hair on his chest, coarse under her fingers, although it was sparse. Without thinking, she tugged at the hair gently and heard him inhale sharply. \"What...which one are you? I cannot see you...I want to know...\"\n\n\"Should not matter who I am.\" He replied, but then pinched her left nipple hard and said, \"I am called 1806-2079.\"\n\n\"That means nothing. Are you light haired or dark haired?\" She asked, and he paused a moment.\n\n\"Dark.\" He said, and in an instant he was pulling her up on her knees on the filthy mattress, guiding her hands to his belt, letting them slide across the impressive bulge beneath the material. He had to have the biggest, well, one of those she'd ever felt and she wished she could see it. She had always heard size mattered, now she guessed she would find out if that was true. Her fingers nimbly unfastened his belt and then his pants, which were button-fly. He stopped her from shucking them down too far, instead he moved her hands, indicating she should simply free the enormous organ rather than completely unclothing him.\n\nShe could smell his arousal radiating off of him in waves and, to her shocked surprise could feel her own wetness between her thighs when he stepped closer so that his largeness bumped against her face insistently. The slipperiness she felt coming from her own arousal should have made her ashamed, but as she'd not had good sex in six years all it did was make her feel all the more aroused for the wickedness she was preparing to commit. Opening her mouth, straining her jaw to the point it felt like it tore at the corners, so that she did not scrape him with her teeth, she allowed his thickness to slide between her lips willingly. He cursed in some language she did not know, at least, she assumed it was a curse, then pulled her head back and forth, using a hand wrapped in her long bottle-blonde hair as leverage, not allowing her to do any of the work as if he could not trust her to do it right.\n\nAfter a time, when her jaw was hurting so badly she thought it must have been dislocated, he finally shoved her roughly away from him and a second pair of hands caught up her arms, raising her hands much higher to reach his belt. Here, she knew, was the blonde giant, the fucker who had to be about ten feet tall. She could feel his own interest, and it dwarfed the enormous one she'd just had in her mouth, which seemed impossible. This thing would kill her, she could barely get her hand around it when it dropped from his open fly, as he was not wearing underwear, unlike the first man. \"Suck.\" He said, pulling her head to it. \"Suck and do not let teeth brush against it.\"\n\n\"That's...not possible...\" Before she could finish her argument, he was pushing past her lips, the size of him making her feel as if her already-sore jaw had indeed dislocated itself.\n\nHe said, \"I will fix jaw if it dislocates.\" And, she guessed, it was a good thing when she blacked out from choking on his monstrously large member, because she was out cold when he did just that. Still, when she woke up, her jaw was aching like hell, but she was alive, and she could feel the warmth of both of them sandwiching her once more, though they now appeared to be asleep. She had the distinct aftertaste of at least one of them in her mouth, not her favorite thing, and she knew it had been left it there for her when she woke. Remembering the threat that this would be her only beverage, she shuddered and started to try to wriggle out from between them to use the bucket. Unfortunately, they were not sleeping, they had only been lying in wait. Now she felt them both stiffen almost simultaneously, the bigger one behind her, his enormous erection pressing against her back through his pants, which were again buttoned up. She whimpered, afraid to ask permission to relieve herself, lest she be struck for speaking. Luckily, the darker haired one seemed to sense her discomfort and spoke softly to her, releasing her as he did so.\n\n\"Go.\" The dark haired one said and the blonde released her immediately, rolling away and vanishing from the bed. In the darkness it was impossible to tell where exactly he had gone. She couldn't help but wonder if, in the darkness, they could see her even though she was unable to see them.\n\n**Chapter 73**\n\nThe very same night after her discussion with Aleksei, as the train rumbled across Romania, Anya slipped stealthily into Yuri's berth to find him curled in his seat, staring out the window. When he saw her reflection in the glass, he turned looking relieved, but then the misery returned when he saw it was she, not Aleksei, who had disturbed him.\n\n\"You should not be here. Aleksei will hate me even more if he finds you here.\" He said, his voice so soft she barely heard it. Not dissuaded by this, she pulled the window blind down, sealing them off from the rest of the train, and locked the cabin door. \"Anya...\"\n\n\"Is okay, he is sleeping...baby is sleeping and will sleep through night...\" She sat beside him, a little too close, and noted that he did not draw away as an innocent man might, so she changed tact immediately, playing on this. \"I did not like way Aleksei treated you this morning when you tried to talk to him. It was most unfair.\" She twisted her fingers in her waist-length white-blonde hair, which was done in tiny braids from which purple and black and silver beads dangled at the ends. The beads clicked together and finally Yuri looked at her, shocking her because he had tears on his cheeks. \"Yuri...what has happened between you and...\"\n\nBefore she could finish the sentence, he was in her arms, whimpering like a lost puppy, burrowing his face between her breasts. \"Did...he tell you about Crystal...my first girlfriend...from America?\"\n\n\"Nyet, I do not know anyone by that name. Do you wish to tell me about her?\" Anya said, reaching over and giving the fold out berth seat a tug, so that it unfolded, stopping at their legs. She raised hers and he, after a moment, raised his, and the seat folded out into a bed that took up the entire berth. A sleeper car for two. Aleksei hadn't chosen this berth accidentally, clearly he had hoped to smooth things over with Yuri. But it hadn't happened.\n\nAnya crawled, mindful of the short black mini-dress she was wearing creeping up just enough to tease but not enough to show anything, and grabbed blankets from the overhead bin as well as a fabric-covered mattress pad. Those, she knew, were provided for people who did not like sleeping on leather, or in this case faux-leather, upholstery. Once it was spread out, she turned and noticed Yuri's tears had stopped, his dark eyes were on her in a way that made even an experienced whore feel the color drain from her face. He was growling, she suddenly realized, and looked at the door, recognizing an instant too late that her hesitation was all it took. Yuri went from sitting by the window to pinning her on her back, straddling her hips in an instant, his hands locked around her throat, though he wasn't choking her, not yet, anyway.\n\n\"Yuri...you do not have to do this...\" She said, realizing what he wanted now, it had been what he had wanted all along. Her, he wanted her in his bed, he wanted to have both of them, twins, all to himself. Unfortunately, that would never happen, but tonight...who was going to tell Oleg? Certainly no one on this train. She fake-struggled, lashing out at him, giving him a slap, her long red nails raking the skin on his face, but not leaving a mark. He growled and pulled the dress, which was strapless, down to reveal her breasts, which had become much fuller since she'd been nursing Ivan, and the baby drank milk like a champ when he was awake by day.\n\nYuri pawed at them, squeezed them, and then licked away the milk his actions produced with a hoarse moan of longing. His hands were everywhere, sliding her dress up, his fingers caressing her mound as she was not wearing any undergarments, there was no room for them under the tight dress. He slid down deftly and buried his face, and Anya had to cover her mouth to keep from crying out. Oleg did not do oral sex, though he certainly expected her to do it for him every single time they'd had sex, which admittedly hadn't been much. She was in her thirties, Oleg, his sixties. His mind wasn't much on that sort of thing with his criminal empire to run, and perhaps he assumed after spending the early years of her life as a prostitute she wouldn't want sex. But she did. She missed the human connection she'd built with some of her regulars.\n\nHe had a very talented tongue, Yuri did, and it didn't take long before she felt her release building. It had been weeks since she'd had an orgasm with a man. Years since it had been brought on by a man's tongue. Sensing her impending explosion, he paused until she squirmed and whimpered, that was all he needed to hear, he licked her from bottom to top, the natural roughness of his tongue enough to send her spiraling into bliss, biting into the pillow provided for the occupants of the berth to keep from screaming, her back arching impossibly until only her head and feet were making contact with the bed.\n\nWhen she came down, he was on top of her, driving into her, his lips, wet with her own juices closing over hers. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and took him into her willingly, her purple eyes locked on his dark brown eyes, but only for an instant before he bent again to kiss her. The sex did not last long, not the first time, but by the time she crept off to the showers the following morning, she thought she must have been full of him right up to her neck. In all her years she had never met a man with such staying power. Through it all she had been able to talk to him, to come to understand that it had been his obsession with her that was tormenting him.\n\nNow, she thought, as she put a coin into the slot on the shower door, to explain things to Aleksei, as soon as she'd had the nap he promised while he looked after Ivan for her. Her knees were trembling so hard, as the train rocketed on into the deep mountains, heading for Romania that she could barely stand in the shower. She had to admit, she smiled to herself wickedly, that was probably the best fuck she'd ever had in her life. Now to figure out how to steal away with him a few more times once they were safely ensconced at their new place of residence. Wherever that might be.\n\n**Chapter 74**\n\nOnce she had used the bucket, someone thrust a plastic box in her hand and she felt of it a moment before realizing it was wet wipes. Blushing, still not sure if they could see her or not, she plucked out a few and cleaned herself front and back 'down there' before tossing the cloths in the bucket. She had noticed it smelled like a port-a-potty and knew they had put an additive in it to keep the smell of her waste from choking all of them out of the room. This meant they wouldn't be emptying it every day, which might, she thought, draw attention to them. Of course, she had no idea how big this subterranean bunker might be, since she'd only seen a dimly lit view this room before the lantern had died. Since then, she had seen nothing.\n\nWhen her cleaning was done, she held out the box but no one took it from her. Dismayed, she started to place it on the floor near the bucket, but calloused hands stopped her. The hands guided her to the flap that opened to dispense more wipes and a voice said, \"Clean.\" Now she understood. He wanted to be cleaned as well. In for a penny, she thought, then pulled out a wipe and found his currently soft but still impressive member. It did not stay soft, with her handling it and as soon as she was done the box was taken from her hands while a different pair of hands closed on her hips, so she knew the other man, the blonde, was still in the room. The dark haired man picked her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from falling, so he let her settle, impaling her before walking over and dropping onto the bed, one arm supporting her weight, the other catching his own weight so that he didn't crush her.\n\nHer back arched painfully when he pulled back and slammed in the first time. She wasn't exactly wet and whatever lubricant he'd had on him from the wipe wasn't really enough to ease his entry. Not that he seemed to mind. In fact, her pained response seemed to please him greatly, for he drew back and slammed into her again, this time startling a cry from her. This caused him to give a flurry of hard, fast, deep thrusts, each bringing a louder cry until she was nearly screaming. His mouth closed over hers and he absorbed the screams then, his tongue so far in her mouth it was nearly gagging her as it wrestled with her own.\n\nBy the time he released, pulling out and letting his seed spill on her belly instead of inside of her, she was weak from the abuse, her woman-parts felt as if they'd been ridden by a razor-blade covered baseball bat. He disappeared from the bed, she felt his weight leave, and rolled onto her stomach in an attempt to soothe her aching abdomen. But her reprieve was short, for she felt the mattress compress again, and the impressive bulk of the giant pressed down on her, his already raging hard member pressing against her abused body.\n\nShe did not even have the strength, at first, to whimper, but when that monster, just the tip of it, slid into her, she started to try to escape. It was too big! It felt as if he were ripping her to pieces as he propped over her now in push-up position. A third hand, the dark-haired man's hand, undoubtedly, pressed down on her head, holding her still as the blonde worked almost gently until he was buried in her as deep as he could go, which was surprisingly deeper than she'd thought as he was all the way in. The first man hadn't given her an ounce of pleasure, he'd been too rough, too impersonal. She said a quick prayer that this man was a little gentler, because if he wasn't, she was afraid she'd be dead before he was done. He leaned down close to her now, the hand on her head moving away, and pushed into her as hard as he could, bringing a whimper from her. She could hear him breathing in her ear, feel the tickle of it as he drew out of her, pausing when only the tip remained, still stretching her painfully.\n\n\"Scream.\" He whispered, causing her to tense up involuntarily, which had been what he wanted because the moment she did he gave a massive thrust and drove into her with everything he had. And scream was exactly what she did, for despite the pain of his powerful intrusion, a massive orgasm ripped through her, not a pleasant orgasm, but one so violent it felt as if though her uterus had turned itself inside out and, in the process, caught fire. \"I like when woman screams.\" He whispered into her ear, giving her another hard thrust and grunting happily when she screamed again. When she opened her eyes, just one time, she realized the room was dimly lit now, and the dark haired man was sleeping on what looked like a fold-down bunk bed. Or at least, he was lying down with his back to them; how he could sleep with the noise she'd been making, she had no idea.\n\nBy the time the blonde's ride was finished, she was so full of his seed that she thought her abdomen looked bloated, even in the dim light. Unlike the dark-haired man, she had counted at least four times he had released, her insides being so sensitive and painful she'd felt every individual release of seed he'd deposited. Now he, too, shoved her away, leaving her sprawled on the floor, but she did not move. Just lay there, not caring anymore, and as they had promised her, wishing for death.\n\nThe blonde picked two of her long fingernails out of his left forearm, where she'd gripped it in an unsuccessful attempt to make him stop his assault. He looked at the long, bright pink acrylic fragments for a moment, then dropped them on the floor in front of her face. He fastened up his military-issue style pants and stood, stretching and giving a sated yawn. After pulling off his shirt, revealing a gorgeous physique, he drank what looked like a bottle of water and went to the wall in front of her to let down a second bed, which allowed in more light. Now she understood, the bunk-type beds covered the windows, which were opaque with what must have been white paint at one time but were now almost covered over with dirt and grime. This, she guessed, kept them well camouflaged from the outside, though she couldn't be sure. She wasn't even sure where they were, if she had to be honest.\n\nHe was taking off his boots, clearly preparing to lie down, but the ringing of a phone made him freeze. The dark-haired man rolled over and they exchanged glances before the blonde hurried to answer the incoming call. The dark-haired man got up then and removed the collar from her neck, leaving her lying where she was, stepped over her and headed out the door. She was so weak that, at that point, she didn't even realize they'd let her go and that she had survived.\n\n**Chapter 75**\n\nWhen Anya woke she wasn't the least bit surprised to find Aleksei sitting across the berth from her, staring at her apprehensively. Ivan was stirring restlessly in his crib and she knew what he wanted, only hoping her milk had recovered after Yuri had ingested quite a lot of it the night before. She sat up, fighting a wince at how sore her woman-parts were, not wanting Aleksei to know just how far it had 'gone there' with Yuri. After changing Ivan she plugged him onto one of her breasts. He seemed to prefer the left first, then the right, he always took both, every feeding. That done, she accepted a cup of milk and what looked like a leftover scone from the breakfast service from Aleksei, took a bite and settled back with a contented sigh.\n\n\"It was me, Aleksei. Me he wanted.\" She said, being bluntly honest as always, but she couldn't help but notice he sighed, resignedly, rather than being angry or outright hurt. \"You knew?\"\n\n\"Of course I knew, well, suspected it. He has been overly interested in you since day we found you in that filthy apartment in Old Moscow.\" Aleksei stood and poured himself a cup of coffee from the tray provided by the restaurant car. Each of the first class berths got their own small breakfast tray delivered, if the car wanted it and Aleksei, a heavy coffee drinker, had requested this one be refilled all day. Which was done, for a price, not that money was an issue.\n\nAnya looked down at Ivan's wide blue eyes, which were staring up at her almost knowingly, but she brushed off the feeling. How on earth could a baby so small even begin to comprehend what she had done the previous night? Of course, she hadn't had any experience with this sort of infant. Aleksei had, and he might have warned her not to discuss it around Ivan as he possessed, quite possibly, the same paternal genes as Lizzie. But his mind was too much on Yuri, and the problems between them.\n\n\"He was not cheating on you, Aleksei, not physically, but his mind was definitely astray and he felt horrible for his imagined infidelity.\" Anya said, switching breasts, pausing to pry open Ivan's mouth and, for her trouble, getting her finger bitten. Which only confirmed what she'd been checking. \"He is cutting tooth.\" She said, sucking the aggrieved finger after getting him latched onto her right breast to nurse.\n\n\"Really? Is too soon, but then, I guess he is not at all normal infant, is he? Lizzie cut her teeth very early, too.\" Aleksei did not smile, as he might have at such news any other day. Then he continued the more pertinent conversation. \"Did you...\"\n\n\"Aleksei do not ask me that. I cannot tell you. But I do know Yuri will be expecting you to visit him now. Go. I want to finish nursing Ivan. Train should be arriving at destination this afternoon, da?\"\n\n\"Da, that is right. We will go by civilian transportation after that, and then is long walk to place I have secured for us.\" Aleksei smiled mysteriously. \"You are going to love it.\" ​\n\nAnya watched him go and said a little prayer that Yuri was recovered. He had gone at her until he could go no more, getting frustrated when his body finally ran out of steam, for clearly his mind had not. She pondered again if they might manage to steal away some, if this place where they would be hiding would be large enough they could do so without being caught. Eventually, she expected Oleg would join them, but until then, as far as she was concerned, Yuri was open and fair game. She smiled to herself as she looked out at the bleak winter landscape whipping by, recalling the events of the previous night in great detail.\n\n- THE END -\n\n**PREVIEW**\n\n**__**\n\n**_A Life Less Ordinary: Book Two_**\n\n**Chapter One**\n\n_Three Years Later_\n\nIvan and Dmitri moved with the grace of panthers across the icy-slick stone bridge, their gate not slackening despite the treacherousness of the footing. Neither man paused to look down at the fathoms deep ravine it traversed because neither of them cared. They were not in the region for sightseeing, so when their guide suddenly panicked and turned back, they amicably allowed him to do so. Dmitri had wanted to keep the man along, as he seemed full of many stories and local legends, which was how they'd found out the tales in the first place, and Dmitri was nothing if not superstitious.\n\nSitting still had begun to get more than a little annoying for them, as they were men of action, but since they'd reached the isolated and nearly uninhabited farming hamlet, they had been stymied. No one seemed to want to discuss any mysterious goings-on in any of the fortress strongholds or castles, and there were several in the area.\n\nThe interest they had was not purely academic, as anyone could tell by looking at them, even if Ivan was obviously extremely intelligent. So, for the most part the locals avoided them at all costs for the better part of the first week. The fathers, it seemed, had also hidden their prettiest daughters and the husbands their wives because all they saw were older women with more fingers than teeth. Most often, it was the two crones that ran the inn where they were lodging, and they enjoyed flirting, particularly with Dmitri because it seemed to unnerve him, which they found humorous. For Ivan's part, he gave as good as he got, which only made them flirt the worse, thus deepening Dmitri's discomfort, which in turn only served to amuse the women, and Ivan, that much more.\n\nThen, during a terrible blizzard that came in, announcing the arrival of winter, they had just decided maybe it was time to throw in the towel. Dmitri had even attempted to call for extraction, but with the howling storm their handlers had told them they would have to sit tight. So, sitting dejectedly over watery cabbage soup, Ivan had heard a man nearby ranting wildly about something up in the mountains. He nudged Dmitri under the table and both of them turned their attention surreptitiously to the man. As they listened, they overheard him, talking to a second man about a strange castle with even stranger inhabitants.\n\nSix adults and two children, who never came down from up there, which they took to mean one of the least accessible ancient strongholds in the mountainous region. A perfect place to hide out. Strange, even for this destitute region of Romania, where there were very few villages and what sometimes seemed like even fewer living people. The man had, it seemed, been hunting up that way just before the blizzard had moved in, only making it back down the mountain in scant time to avoid death from cold and hunger. To be sure, he wasn't interested in returning, not even for a price, not after what he'd seen in the castle.\n\nBut as it turned out, he had been willing to take money to show them the way, and they'd paid him a steep fee, so even if Ivan was willing to let the annoying chatterbox go, Dmitri wasn't so sure they should. This man, he argued one night as they kept watch while the guide slept, knew more about the area and any danger than they did. But Ivan shrugged him off, clearly annoyed by the man's nonstop speed talking.\n\nBesides, he had pointed out to Dmitri, they had caught a glimpse of the castle, far up on a mountaintop, only just visible through the dense forest, which was thick despite the trees having shed their leaves for winter. Not one day ago. Once they had set eyes on it, confirmed it existed, their planning began, discussed in soft Russian out of earshot of the guide as they camped the following night, once more, it appeared neither of them slept.\n\nAssuming one of the children belonged to the extra two adults, they decided this must be the place that the government had sent them to investigate. All of the children born to the clone program had been recovered but one, the child of Oleg and Anya Korzhakov. Names that meant nothing but 'enemy' to Oleg's nephews now. Oleg was still in Moscow, and they had been observing him for three years with no sign of the whore he had married and the child she had given birth to. The boy was fast approaching the danger point, at the age of five he would be considered too old and would have to be discontinued as they could not effectively train him the way they, the handlers, wanted.\n\nDrawing close to the top of the mountain path, both men hunched their broad shoulders against the cold, though they did not shiver nor show any real discomfort. Their feet remained remarkably steady, where most men would have fallen because it was so slippery, a solid sheet of ice, in fact. But they climbed on as if completely oblivious to the danger. Night was closing in and they hoped to reach the safety of the castle, because without their guide, he had taken his own bags back down to the village when he had departed, they had very little food and no fire or even lights. Not that they really needed lights, but that was a different matter entirely.\n\nThe path wound right up a steep cliff and their progress would have been halted at the top where it ran into the twenty foot high stone wall if the gate hadn't been badly damaged. The left side was completely missing, and the right swayed dangerously in the wind, barely hanging by one rusted and failing hinge. The two men exchanged glances, clearly questioning if anyone lived up here at all, but then Ivan elbowed Dmitri and motioned a gloved hand at one of the windows in the west wing. A candle was flickering there, a good sign that someone was, indeed, at home.\n\nThey walked across the wind-buffeted stone courtyard, or maybe it was stone, the snow pack was so deep it was hard to say. At the door, they both looked down, somewhat dismayed, as there was a snow drift packed hard against it that had to be a meter or more deep. Dmitri bent slightly and knocked on the door using the large, heavy, rusted-iron knocker as if it weighed mere ounces. Within, even over the gale, they could hear the echoing of the heavy pounding blows on the door.\n\nAfter a while, when no one came, they turned as if to look for another door and, just as they did so, the door creaked open behind them, swinging inward. Turning, expecting to find an adult, their eyes trailed down until they found two enormous blue eyes staring up at them from the pretty face of a young girl. The snowbank was nearly up to her shoulders and threatened to collapse on her at any time, though she seemed to not notice the danger.\n\n\"Oh! Oh you must be guests I have heard so much about! Grand-mama said you would come! I did not believe her but...here you are!\" Without hesitation, she grabbed Ivan with her left hand and Dmitri with her right and tugged them inside, pulling them down off the snow drift. She struggled to close the door back against the snow, which they had shifted as they stepped down, straining for some time against it, stubbornly. Finally, Ivan grew exasperated and pushed the door closed easily. She did not thank him, simply grabbed their hands once more and pulled them on. Even through his gloves, Ivan could feel that her hands were almost as cold as death. \"You must come with me, why, you have arrived just in time to eat. If I do not invite you grand-mama will be most disappointed in my manners. She will not mind. Come with me, I will take you to our small dining room.\"\n\n\"Where are your parents?\" Ivan asked, clearly recovering from the shock quicker than Dmitri. If he noticed that her clothing was so far out of date she looked more like a child of the middle ages than a child of modern days, he didn't give any indication. He looked pale, unwell almost, as if he'd seen a ghost as his eyes trailed over what had once been a grand foyer, now slowly falling to the decay of time. Ivan tried not to look around, tried not to smell the odor of rats and mildew, scents that were very unpleasant to him, though he could not remember why.\n\n\"My...my papa is dead, sir...my mama is here but she is...not well.\" She led them on, positively skipping with excitement. Ivan looked around him at the dusty, dimly lit corridors, the broken, rat-chewed furniture, and the general lack of fire in the dozens of fireplaces he counted as they walked. Once, Dmitri thought he saw a person within one of the rooms but, when he stopped to look, the door slammed shut and a wailing cry echoed along the corridor, making him pale even further.\n\nSomething was, indeed, very wrong here. But perhaps, his rational mind countered, if the girl's mother was sick and she had only her grandmother to care for her they lived only in a few of the small rooms near the kitchen. It would make sense, but what of the other adults and the second child? Thus far she had only mentioned her grandmother and her mother. There had been no mention of anyone else being here or even being alive. He chalked it up to her excitement at seeing strangers, which made it just a case of youthful indiscretion. Nodding to himself, he let the girl pull him on, her bare, freezing hand grasping at his, tightly, as if she were afraid he might flee. Dmitri looked like he just might.\n\nThey passed from inside to outside, moving through a courtyard where the girl paused and pulled on her gloves, almost as if the small journey could cause her to lose fingers from the cold. When they re-entered the castle Ivan sighed at the welcome warmth and the smell of something very appetizing being cooked somewhere nearby. He pulled off his gloves, as did Dmitri, and stowed them in his pockets, then they both allowed the girl's gloved hands to guide them onwards. A sudden, piercing scream gave them pause but she only laughed, but Ivan found nothing amusing about the sound. To his ears, it sounded human, no matter what she said.\n\n\"It is just the wind, sirs, you get accustomed to it after living here for long time. I have been here since I can remember. Mama moved back here when papa died...now she does not talk much, in fact, I hardly ever see her.\" Someone shoved by them, startling both men, but she simply allowed the hunchbacked old man who looked to be past ancient in years, to pass. \"Never get in grand-papa's way at meal time...he will run you down. We are not sure how he knows it is time, as he is completely deaf, so he never hears grand-mama call out...but then I am not sure how she can cook because she is completely blind. But, her cooking is just as good as ever I remember it, you will see! She can make anything delicious.\"\n\nDmitri was looking a little bit pale, still, Ivan noticed, then followed his gaze and flinched as rat scurry past them, a rat as big as a large dog, heading in the opposite direction as fast as it could go. He wondered if it was fleeing the kitchen, and being on the menu. He couldn't help but laugh inwardly at the thought. Seemingly not noticing the rat, the girl was pulling them more insistently, leading them into a large, very warm, very clean kitchen.\n\nIt was surprisingly neat and almost too-spotlessly clean with the exception of the far end of the enormous room where, to Ivan's horror, the old woman was hacking at what looked like a human body. The limbs flailed and danced with each swing of her cleaver, as she hummed a strangely hypnotic tune, and finally the flailing ceased. Sure enough, she turned and hobbled over to a large pot and dropped in what, to Ivan's eyes, looked like a human head, completely with long, brownish-blonde hair. One look at the green pallor of Dmitri's face told him he had seen it, too. Ivan cleared his throat and Dmitri stiffened and closed his mouth, seeming only then to realize he'd been standing there with it hanging open in disbelief.\n\n\"Oh, good! Dinner is almost ready, once the soup is boiled she will serve us. Come, I will take you into our little dining room. Grand-papa might be there, but he probably will not talk to you. Well, sign to you, he uses sign language, you know.\" She chattered on as if she hadn't even noticed the head being dropped into the pot, then pulled them into the dining area and showed them to their seats. \"I can fetch you some tea? We do not have anything much stronger, maybe some Absinthe...I can check in pantry. My mama drinks most of it as soon as we come across it...but if we are lucky...I will look, that is best I can promise.\"\n\n\"That sounds great.\" Ivan said, feeling in dire need of a drink, his mouth was dry and felt almost gritty, like he'd been eating sand though he could not understand why. Beside him, Dmitri nodded enthusiastically, still looking a bit green, and as if he didn't trust himself to open his mouth lest he vomit what little food he'd eaten that day. The little girl disappeared and Ivan leaned close to his companion. \"I am not eating goddamn thing in this house.\"\n\n\"No fucking shit...did you see...was that human...\" but the girl was skipping back into the room, though something had changed about her. Dmitri jumped back and nearly fell off of his chair, for there was an enormous spider on top of her head, its legs moving lazily, and it appeared to be biting into her scalp, though she did not notice. Not right away. Finally, after she had poured them both a healthy measure of the blue liquor, she settled into a chair across from them. Only then did she reach up patiently and, giving a colossal yank, pulled the spider off. Its fangs took a strip of her scalp off, sending a gout of blood pouring down the side of her face. She seemed oblivious, and Dmitri looked positively faint.\n\n\"Bugs around here can be murder,\" The girl said, pulling off one of the spider's legs and crunching on it like it was just another carrot stick. \"If we do not murder them first.\" The rest of it she slammed on the table and impaled with a knife, causing it to make a horrible high-pitched squeal Ivan swore inwardly would haunt him the rest of his days. \"Excellent, we have an appetizer, if you would like? Their legs are usually pretty good, but the body is poison so do not eat it...nasty, bitter, and it will make you sick.\"\n\nAcross the dining room a door banged open and Ivan jumped, his hand going inside his coat as if reaching for a gun, but then he withdrew it slowly, his eyes devouring the new arrival hungrily. A young woman with long, fiery red braids that were nearly to her knees, large breasts, wide hips and brilliant green eyes. She looked at Ivan, but her gaze passed him over, instead finding Dmitri. She licked her glossy red lips, and moved towards him with all the confidence of a natural hunter. Dmitri, for his part, didn't have a problem in the world staring right back at her as she approached and Ivan was afraid he'd be likely to throw her on the table in front of everyone.\n\n\"That is mama.\" The little girl pouted, clearly angry that she was no longer the center of attention. The woman sat on Dmitri's knee and wrapped an arm around his neck as if she'd known him her entire life. Not that he minded, of course, and soon enough she was leaning in, whispering in his ear, and from the stiffness of his body, Ivan was willing to bet, licking it, too. He was a sucker for certain things, you couldn't share women as they had done without knowing what turned your counterpart on and what did not, even if you were both straight as pins.\n\nBut, her affection was short lived, for the old woman came bustling out carrying an enormous silver serving platter. When her head turned towards them her voice was high and screechy though how she saw the red head sitting on Dmitri's knee, Ivan had no idea. Even from where he sat, even in the dim lighting of the room, he could see her eyes were completely white. This woman hadn't gone blind over time, she'd been born that way. The red-haired woman got up and sat, instead, in a chair between the Ivan and Dmitri, positioning herself so Ivan could see that her hand was not at all in an appropriate place. She shot him a look as if daring him to try to stop her, and he was surprised that something in her eyes seemed to gnaw at his memory. But what? He didn't have time to ponder it.\n\nThe old man who had blown past them in the hall made his appearance, coming in from a different doorway entirely. He moved with a surprisingly fast gait across the room and sat slowly, as if it pained him to bend thus, at the head of the table. He rubbed his bluish-colored age-spotted hands together and tucked a rat-chewed napkin in the front of his ancient dressing gown. The old woman screeched out something in an impatient voice, though her words were quite incoherent, and banged a wooden spoon against the side of the cover on the platter. Was she calling the other adults and the male child? Ivan stiffened, looking around him warily. What happened, though, caused both Dmitri and Ivan to recoil; the kitchen door banged open a second time and the headless, bloody body they'd seen earlier, stumbled in.\n\nIt took a while, that body, because it kept tripping over everything, falling, regaining its feet, then doing it all over, but finally it made it to the table and the old woman nodded and took her seat. The body then fumbled all over the table, Ivan just managed to save the bottle of Absinthe from being spilled by its searching hands, before it found the lid of the service tray and lifted it. Staring at them through drooping, water-logged eyelids, was the head that belonged to the body. Dmitri heaved, but managed to keep from vomiting, though how was a mystery to Ivan. He was feeling a little nauseous now himself. The little girl clapped, cheerfully.\n\n\"His eyes survived boiling! I get to eat both eyes!\" She crowed, then reached out and popped out the right eyeball, pulling to detach it, the optical nerve leaving a trail of darkened blood on the starch-white tablecloth. She ripped off the string of nerves and tossed them to the old man, then popped the eye in her mouth. As the old man sucked down the optic nerves like particularly tasty spaghetti, which Ivan was trying not to watch, a messy popping sound could be heard from between the girl's sharp, young teeth. A small amount of dark eye-fluid dripped down her chin and she licked away before reaching to pop out the left eye, and repeat the process. It was all Dmitri could take, as he watched her pull out the second eye, and he fell sideways out of his chair in a dead faint.\n\n\"Pussy.\" Ivan muttered, then watched as the headless body attempted to eat a strip of meat pulled off of its own face, obviously unable as it had no head. Finally, Dmitri groaned and sat up, but he did not rejoin the dinner party, instead, he stood and went to the window to stare out at the heavily falling snow. Ivan remained in his seat, watching as the rest of the family devoured the head, squabbling over the better bits. When they used mallet to crack open the skull so as to access the brain, the headless body slowly seemed to realize it was dead and fell over with a sticky splat sound onto the table. Dark blood poured from it across the tablecloth, pooling around Ivan's empty plate.\n\nThe woman, who had partaken same as the rest, was the first to leave after the meal, and she went to Dmitri's side, her hand squeezing his backside insistently. Ivan's stomach rumbled but he ignored it, he had a few protein bars in his cargo pants pocket, which were under his insulated snow-pants. He'd dig them out when he was safely wherever he was going to sleep and not before. No way was he sharing with Dmitri, or anyone else. All he could think of was getting the fuck out of this place at first light, but then that was a long way off, he knew, and he wondered what the rest of the night would bring. The little girl stood up now and offered Ivan her hand. \"Come with me sir, I will show you to your room. Mama wants to spend some time talking to your friend, he looks lots like my papa, she says.\"\n\n\"Hmph.\" Ivan allowed himself to be led away, trying not to look at the strip of bare, still-bleeding scalp on top of the little girl's head. At least it had begun to slow, finally, how she didn't notice it was beyond Ivan. He wanted to say something, but what could he say?\n\n\"I hope you do not mind that we ate my cousin for dinner.\" She said, conversationally, as if this sort of thing happened every day. \"He was sick, you know, he would have died soon anyway. Grand-mama did him favor, and he died to support all of us. That is honorable, do you not think?\"\n\n\"If...you say so.\" Ivan said, then gave a low whistle as she opened the door to a sumptuously decorated suite fit for a King. \"Is this to be my room?\"\n\n\"For as long as you like, sir.\" She smiled up at him sweetly. \"You share bathroom with your friend, his room is on other side, but you will not hear from him again tonight, I am sure. Mama has not seen men in long time, she will keep him plenty busy.\"\n\n\"If she wants to visit me...\" Ivan muttered, but the girl did not seem to hear him.\n\n\"There is servants' bell, but it does not do any good. We ate most of them last winter. Supplies are hard to get so we eat whoever we can spare.\" She gave a little curtsey. \"Breakfast is served at seven, grand-mama is strict. Do not be late.\"\n\nThe door slammed shut and Ivan turned to look at it, confused, then turned back only to find that the little girl had completely vanished. He sighed and walked over to stand by the roaring fire, warming his hands, wishing he had thought to grab the bottle of Absinthe, which was now sitting on the bloody dining room table. A faint squeaking behind him alerted him, and he spun, nearly falling backwards into the fire in shock, a serving cart had just rolled into the room with two whole bottles of the liquor and a basket covered in a linen napkin. He took the bottles, pleased to find them nicely chilled, then lifted the napkin and peered into the basket, cautiously. Much to his surprise, he found it full of what looked to be perfectly normal and nicely warm rolls.\n\nGiving a grunt of appreciation to the cart, he took the bread and the alcohol and wandered back over to the fire, settling on a divan there. He drank a good bit of the first bottle before he pulled apart the rolls, then gave a shout as a mountain of squirming maggots fell out onto the rest. \"Jesus...fuck...this place...\" He tossed basket and all into the fire and stuck to drinking the Absinthe, and eating his meagre protein bars. They, at least, would help combat his hunger until morning when maybe, just maybe, they would have more typical fare. He wasn't holding out much hope.\n\n- End Preview -\n\n**About the Author:** Scarlett lives a quiet life in the countryside of the Eastern U.S. She enjoys spending time with her teenaged sons, who are growing up much too quickly. She also loves playing online computer games with her husband when she's not writing.\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n# Enigma Squad\n\n## The Case of the Old Man in the Mailbox\n\n### By Brian Jacobs\n\n### Excite Kids Press • Seattle, WA\n\nCopyright © 2010 by Brian C. Jacobs\n\nSmashwords edition\n\nAll rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or  \nportions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address  \nExcite Kids Press, PO Box 2222, Poulsbo WA 98370\n\nwww.EnigmaSquad.com\n\nFirst Excite Kids Press trade paperback printing October 2010  \n10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1\n\nISBN 9781936672073\n\nFor my Mackenzie Ruth,  \nwho continues to show me that children still love to read.\n\n### Chapter 1\n\n# Return to Sender\n\nHello. My name is Tyler Pate, and I want to tell you a story, partially because I love telling stories, but mostly because the police need me to document everything that happened these past two weeks. Mom and Dad say my buddies and me are lucky to be alive. I think they're just overreacting and we weren't really in any danger. You know how parents are. Actually, I think this could be a whole lot of fun for Scooter, AJ, and me, or maybe even a great business opportunity. Either way, it's been a pretty exciting couple of weeks for the Enigma Squad.\n\n\"What kind of a name is that?\" you may ask. Well, a pretty cool one, I'd say. But I'll get into that a little bit later. Anyway, I haven't heard any better suggestions, so the name sticks for now.\n\nYou know, I think what makes this story so cool is that Scooter, AJ, and me are just three ordinary kids who happened to be in the right place at the right time, but let me start the story at the beginning. I don't want to get ahead of myself. First, let me tell you a little bit about the three of us.\n\nAJ Seeva lives two doors down from me in the Westridge housing development here in Silverdale, Washington. I have no clue what the A and J stand for and he won't tell me. He says it doesn't stand for anything, but I think he's just embarrassed. It probably stands for some girly name that would ruin his image. And let me tell you, AJ has \"the image.\" He's tall, good-looking, plays practically every sport our Junior High offers, and is well liked by everyone who knows him. I think he could probably go out with any girl he wanted to if he wasn't so sure he was going to marry my older sister, Tamara. There is only one small problem with that dream of his: my sister is two years older than him, and she would _never_ date anyone who was my friend. Unfortunately she has never told him that directly, and he isn't exactly catching on very fast. Which brings me to the last thing I need to tell you about AJ: there's a lot he doesn't catch on to. Need I say more?\n\nScooter, on the other hand, is AJ's opposite. He lives in our neighborhood, too, but on a nearby dead-end street. He also likes to play a little soccer, but those things are about all he and AJ have in common. Scooter's real name is Sean Parks, but only his parents can get away with calling him Sean. Everyone else gets a long lecture on Christian names and nicknames and surnames and the Roman Empire and how his Great-grand-something-or-other changed ships in the mid-Atlantic and Sean is spelled wrong and I don't even remember what else. After five minutes of his ranting and raving, all I learned is someone in his family must be Italian and that he _REALLY_ wants to be referred to as Scooter. As you can imagine, I've only asked him about it once.\n\nExcept for freaking out over his name, Scooter is very mild-mannered. Nothing seems to get him stirred up, except maybe a complex math problem. Besides being a straight-A student and the skinniest guy in the universe—I mean it; he is the only guy I know who can hide behind a flagpole—Scooter's an inventing wiz. He comes up with the coolest, craziest ideas for gadgets—and then actually makes them work! Anyway, for a guy who spends half his life tinkering in the garage, he's pretty wiry. He's not the athlete that AJ is, but when we played on our junior-high soccer team, Scooter was the one who darted around pestering our opponents. Maybe that's why he likes to be called Scooter—he never seems to run; he just kind of _scoots_ around and steals the ball from the other team while they wonder \"where did that geek just come from?\"\n\nAnyway, I think that the three of us have agreed that AJ is really the athletic one, and Scooter is the smart one, and I'm the... well, I'm just me. It's hard to explain what that means other than the fact that I'm not really good at anything. I don't say that to put myself down; I just mean that I'm _average_ at everything. Seriously. AJ is tall, Scooter is short, I am right in the middle. Scooter is a genius, AJ is... not, and I'm an A-/B+ student. AJ speaks before he thinks. Scooter thinks before he speaks. Me? Well, I guess I do both at the same time. When we get in a bind, Scooter takes too long to find the right words, AJ will almost always find a way to say the _wrong_ words, and so I've learned to think on my feet and talk us out of any jam we get into. Hey! I guess there _is_ one thing I'm really good at: \"sweet talking.\" Though my dad would probably say my gift is just \"talking.\"\n\nSo I'm a middle-of-the-road kind of guy, and I think that's why AJ and Scooter hang out with me—I'm just a freaky compilation of parts of both of them, and so there are parts of me that they both can relate to. My other theory is that they don't have a choice since I live practically next door, but I've chosen to ignore that one for fear of crying myself to sleep at night. Oh, one more thing. As you might be able to tell, I do have a knack for sarcasm. This comes naturally when you have an older sister who is in love with herself. So I will do my best to stick to the facts and not give any sarcastic remarks, but I am not making any promises. Anyway, I better get started.\n\nIt all began a couple Wednesdays ago when AJ, Scooter, and me were over at Scooter's house. Come to think of it, we're always over at Scooter's house. Scooter has a really high-tech computer that his dad built from scratch, and his mom is always baking us goodies, so where else would we go? Well, on this particular day we were watching wrestling on TV. Scooter was sitting on the couch while AJ and me were demonstrating the new moves we were learning on the living room rug.\n\nI was just about to attempt a pile driver on AJ's head when Scooter's dad marched through the front door waving a couple of letters in his hand.\n\n\"You know, I am sick and tired of these stupid letters coming to my house,\" he huffed.\n\n\"What's the matter, Dad? More junk mail?\" Scooter asked.\n\n\"No, actually, it looks like some of these are important bills,\" Mr. Parks answered. \"The only problem is that they are addressed to a Mr. Stanley P. Mathisen.\"\n\n\"And the address is correct and everything?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes, Tyler, and that is what is so vexing. I have been getting these letters off and on for months, but in the past few days I have received quite a few. I went to the post office, but they said they can't do much if the mail is being delivered to the address on the letters, there's no forwarding address for Mr. Mathisen, and the letters are coming from more than one sender.\"\n\n\"How many would you say you have gotten total?\" Scooter asked, curiosity written all over his face.\n\n\"Well, I've collected a whole basket of them on the corner of my desk since the last time I informed the post office. There are a couple of Yellow Express phone bills, though I was sure they'd stopped doing business in this part of the state, a couple of personal letters, a magazine subscription bill, and a whole lot of junk mail. This Mr. Mathisen could have all the credit cards he wanted if he were receiving his mail!\"\n\nMr. Parks chuckled at his joke. \"I just have to find some time to take the important letters to the post office so they can be returned.\"\n\nThat got me thinking: it would sure stink to have all those bills that needed to be paid going to the wrong address. At least the bill collectors will be hunting in the wrong place when that time comes!\n\nMr. Parks left the room, rambling on about the Post Office and addresses and the Federal Government and higher-priced stamps and other higher taxes and Social Security and a bunch of other stuff that I wasn't listening to. He does that sometimes, and AJ and me pretend to listen only when we eat dinner there.\n\nSo on Thursday, the three of us were walking home from school. AJ and me had dropped off our book bags at our respective houses and checked in with our parents, and now the three of us were turning onto the dead-end street where Scooter lived. In the distance we could see a man in a blue windbreaker and black pants hunched over the Parks' mailbox. He had a full head of silvery hair, and he appeared to be sorting through the mail inside.\n\n\"Hey, Scoot! Your dad's home pretty early for a school night, isn't he?\" AJ smirked. I'm not quite sure, but I think he was trying to make a joke.\n\n\"No way, AJ,\" Scooter said matter-of-factly, \"that's not my dad.\"\n\n\"Then someone is messing with your mail; that's a federal offense!\" AJ explained. (I'm not entirely sure how he knew that, but I can guess. He said it like it was a line straight from some TV courtroom drama.)\n\n\"Hey, what are you doing?\" AJ yelled as he ran down the street.\n\nThe man slammed the mailbox door and ran towards the back of Scooter's house with AJ in hot pursuit, while Scooter and me quickly fell behind. The man looked fairly old and didn't move _that_ quickly, but he had a very long head start on AJ and disappeared behind the house long before AJ even got to Scooter's mailbox. By the time we got to the backyard, there was no sign of anybody.\n\n\"Well, he probably went into the woods,\" Scooter said, out of breath, pointing to the thick trees that lined the north end of his grassy yard. \"Unless you're on a trail, those woods are pretty dark and dense. I'm sure that guy is long gone or well-hidden by now.\"\n\n\"What do you suppose he was doing?\" I asked.\n\n\"That was probably that Mathisen guy coming to pick up his mail!\" AJ laughed.\n\n\"Actually, AJ, you could very well be right,\" Scooter said, with his \"thinking face\" on.\n\nWhenever he sank into deep thoughts, Scooter would make this face where one side of his mouth would frown while the other side would smile. I would show you what it looks like but I can't do it. Believe me, I've tried.\n\n\"Maybe he _is_ Stanley Mathisen,\" Scooter continued. \"Maybe he's a transient and is just using our address as a place that he can receive mail. Maybe he usually grabs his mail right after it gets delivered most days; hence, no one has ever seen him before. And the letters that Dad has at the house are from times when Mr. Mathisen could not get to the mailbox without being seen before someone in my family got there. Today he just happened to pick a bad time, and we showed up while he was looking for his mail.\"\n\n\"But what about the phone bills your dad had?\" I asked. \"How many bums do you know who have a phone?\"\n\n\"Yeah, you're right. That part puzzles me.\" Scooter scratched his head.\n\nWell, if Scooter was puzzled, you can probably imagine how AJ and me felt. We both looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and headed for Scooter's back door. Scooter continued to stare out toward the woods for a few more seconds and then followed us inside for our daily after-school raid of the kitchen.\n\nWhen we walked in the back door, I knew immediately what we were going to have for an afternoon snack. The smell wafted throughout the entire downstairs—chocolate chip cookies! In the kitchen, we saw Mrs. Parks putting another batch of freshly baked cookies on aluminum foil on the counter. We each grabbed a hot cookie off the foil almost simultaneously, and to our surprise and Mrs. Parks' chagrin, half of each cookie stayed on the sheet.\n\n\"Well, aren't you boys hungry,\" she said with a scowl. \"I wish you would have waited till they cooled a bit. Now just look at the mess you're making.\"\n\nScooter had melted chocolate all over his fingers and chin. \"Sorry we messed up the flawless geometry, Mom!\" We all laughed; the counter had perfect rows and columns of cookies except for the three gooey messes we'd just made.\n\n\"Hey, Mrs. P, guess who we just saw outside at the mailbox?\" AJ said, with his mouth half full of cookie.\n\nScooter's eyes got big, and he gave AJ a quick elbow in the ribs as he interrupted, \"Yeah, Mom, we just saw Stanley Mathisen checking our mail!\" He let out a huge fake laugh and with his eyes encouraged us to do the same.\n\nMrs. Parks frowned. \"Now, boys, that's not very funny. This Stanley fellow is probably in serious trouble unless we get him his mail. How would you feel if people were trying to find you, but couldn't?\"\n\nScooter tugged at AJ and me as he started out of the kitchen. \"Yeah, you're right, Mom, that wasn't very funny.\" He looked directly at AJ. \"It was definitely the WRONG thing to say. We're sorry.\" And with that we headed around the corner and upstairs to Scooter's room.\n\n### Chapter 2\n\n# Calling All Locksmiths\n\nOnce the three of us were in his room, Scooter quickly shut the door behind us and glared at AJ. \"What were you doing?!\"\n\nEven though he is much bigger, AJ cowered away from the wiry Scooter. \"I was just trying to make conversation. What's the big deal?\"\n\n\"The big deal?\" Scooter snapped back. \"Were you also going to tell her about chasing the guy back into the woods? What do you think she would have done if she didn't think that we were joking just then? She would have told my dad, and he would never let us get within a mile of those woods until the police department had gone over them with a fine-toothed comb!\" He finished his tirade by pointing out the window to the woods beyond the backyard.\n\n\"Don't you think that would be overreacting?\" AJ rebutted.\n\n\"C'mon, AJ. You know my mom. Don't you remember the 'Urpy' incident?\"\n\n\"Urpy\" is Scooter's three-year-old brother. His real name is Wyatt. Scooter nicknamed him \"Earp\" after the famous cowboy Wyatt Earp because the kid was making gun noises from the moment he could talk. Earp eventually became Urpy, and the name has stuck ever since.\n\nWell, one day Mrs. Parks had her hands full with trying to get laundry done, getting dinner started, and keeping Wyatt from breaking anything, so she asked the three of us boys to keep an eye on him while we were playing catch in the backyard. After a while, we got bored with just playing catch, so we decided to head over to AJ's house to play video games. Since we were assigned babysitting duty, we took Urpy with us.\n\nWell, apparently Mrs. Parks had gotten so preoccupied with all the stuff she was doing around the house that she forgot she had left him in our care. When she realized how quiet it was in the house, she panicked and went outside looking and yelling for Wyatt. Of course, none of us could hear her because we were a couple blocks away playing video games. Mrs. Parks became hysterical and called the police, thinking either her son had been kidnapped or had wandered deep into the woods behind the house.\n\nAbout that time, we came back to the house, and a relieved and embarrassed Mrs. Parks had to call the police back and have them cancel the search-and-rescue mission.\n\nAs we all giggled to ourselves at the memory, Scooter brought us back to the present. \"Besides, don't you think it would be a fun mystery to figure out who that guy is?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" AJ piped up, sarcasm in his voice, \"that would be _loads_ of fun. What are we gonna do, stake out a nursing home?\"\n\n\"Maybe we can set up surveillance of the mailbox and catch him in the act,\" Scooter suggested. \"I have some ideas for some camera mounts I've been wanting to try.\"\n\n\"Or maybe we can call some of the companies that he owes money to and find out how long he's had this address,\" I said.\n\n\"Good idea,\" Scooter said. \"Plus, I really want to know why he's receiving phone bills here, especially since I don't know anyone in this neighborhood who still uses Yellow Express. We switched to Interbay years ago. I actually thought Yellow Express went out of business.\"\n\n\"Apparently not,\" I remarked.\n\n\"Do you really think that man is Stanley Mathisen?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"There is only one way to find out!\" Scooter said with a smile.\n\nWe spent that afternoon looking for clues about Stanley P. Mathisen. We didn't really feel right about opening up his mail, so we did what we could with the information we had from the outside of the envelopes.\n\nScooter gave us each a task. He got on the internet, looking for any records of a Stanley P. Mathisen who lived in Silverdale, Washington. I was in charge of looking up numbers in the phone book to call all of the businesses who were sending mail to the mystery man. And AJ got the boring but easy job of watching the woods with binoculars for any movement or clue as to where the old man had disappeared.\n\nAfter an hour I had had enough. I turned to talk to AJ. He was still at the window sill, but the binoculars were in his lap and he lay there fast asleep. I turned back to Scooter. \"Poor guy. I think we bored him to sleep.\"\n\n\"Well, he is probably having a more productive afternoon than I am,\" Scooter said. \"I've searched all over the Web and found lots of Stanley Mathisens, but none of them live around here or have any sort of tie to Silverdale or our address.\" His computer screen flickered, and a message box popped up. \"And now my internet connection is going all wonky. _Great_. How about you, Tyler, any luck?\"\n\nI was just as empty-handed as he was. \"Nope, not really. I called the phone company and they aren't allowed to give out any personal information. All of the catalogs he's receiving are companies that got his address off a mailing list that was sold to them, which means he probably signed up for one magazine or something and his address was sold to all the other places by that company.\n\n\"He also has what looks like some bills from a jeweler in California, a locksmith in Chicago, and the Jungle Furniture Company—I don't know which city they're in. I only have this local phone book, so I won't be able to find a phone number for any of these three.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Scooter said, \"my computer appears to be down for the count, so you'll have to check this stuff out on your computer when you get home. The California jeweler thing will probably not give us much... maybe a date of purchase, but that could be helpful. Keep trying to get a phone number for that address. The furniture company is probably just trying to sell him an extended warranty or something, so I bet that's a dead end. I think our best clue is this locksmith in Chicago. Why would an old man in Washington need the services of a locksmith in Chicago? Get a number for him, and we'll give him a call tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Alright, I'll do my best,\" I said.\n\nSometime during the conversation, AJ must have woken up. \"So I guess we are officially detectives, huh, guys?\"\n\n\"Yeah, AJ,\" I said with sarcasm, \"three kids trying to find some old man who supposedly shares a mailbox with Scooter. C'mon, we don't even have a case. You gotta admit, this is really just curiosity.\"\n\n\"If I were a betting man, Tyler,\" Scooter said with a smirk, \"I'd bet most detectives were once upon a time merely curious boys!\"\n\nWe all smiled as we filed out of the room and stormed downstairs to do a real investigation—discovering what Scooter would be eating for dinner and whether AJ and me should invite ourselves over.\n\nWell, that night I couldn't sleep. After supper, I combed the internet and found the phone number for the locksmith in Chicago, whose name was Brett Hull, and the three of us agreed that I would call him before school the next day, knowing it would be two hours later in Chicago because of the difference in time zones. But what was I supposed to say to him? Ask him if he knew a Stanley P. Mathisen now living in Washington State? Tell him we have mail for the guy from his company? Tell him he's sending mail to a mystery man we suspect lives in my friend's backyard? I felt dumber the longer I pondered the craziness of it. I finally dozed off, playing the possible conversation over and over in my mind.\n\nSurprisingly, I woke up rather refreshed the next day. Somewhere in the night, I had decided to try the blunt approach and just ask the guy if he knew a Mr. Mathisen who lived out here on the West Coast. I decided to just ask him if he knew him personally or if he did business with him. My defense was that if (or when) he asked why I wanted to know, I would simply inform him that my friend had received this letter addressed to Mr. Mathisen and we were just really concerned whether it was sent to the right address or not.\n\nI skipped my routine bowl of cereal and settled on a granola bar for breakfast to give me more time to talk on the phone. The bus would be at my stop in about fifteen minutes.\n\nA man answered the phone as if he had just woken up: \"Hullo?\" I suddenly worried that maybe he didn't work on Fridays. But I soon realized he sounded that way all the time.\n\n\"Hello there. Is this Mr. Hull?\" I was so nervous my voice was shaking. I don't know why, though—there were over a thousand miles between me and the voice on the other end. But I was feeling paranoid.\n\n\"Yeah, that's me. What can I do for ya?\"\n\nI got my real voice back and tried to sound confident. \"Mr. Hull, my name is Tyler Pate, and I live in Silverdale, Washington. Do you know a Stanley Mathisen who may be living out here?\"\n\n\"Did you say Stanley Mathisen, son?\" he asked quickly.\n\nWell, I felt a little better now, at least my voice had stopped squeaking enough for him to realize I was a boy. \"Yes, Sir. I think he lives down the street from me.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know him. He was an old college buddy of mine. We lost touch for a while until recently, when we started writing each other again. How's the old coot doing these days?\"\n\n\"Well,\" I replied, \"I don't really know, Mr. Hull. I was hoping you could tell me!\"\n\n\" _Me_ tell _you_? You're the one living next door to him. What kind of neighbor are you, anyway?\" he huffed.\n\nBack to the straightforward approach. \"Well, Sir, I have never really met Mr. Mathisen officially. You see, a letter from you showed up at my friend's house and we're trying to get the address correct so your friend, Mr. Mathisen, could get the mail you worked so hard to write.\" I think I probably poured on the charm a little too thick there, but I had to go with whatever came to my head.\n\n\"Oh, I see. Well, let me get my address book and check the address again.\" I could hear him set the phone on something, and then it was silent for minute.\n\nSuddenly Brett Hull's voice came on again. \"All right, I got it here... 473 Mountain View Court, Silverdale, Washington, 98383. Is that what I put on the letter? I probably put down 743 or something. I get kinda backwards when it comes to numbers.\"\n\n\"The address here is just as you read it off to me,\" I said.\n\nThe man was perplexed. \"Hmmm, that's strange, 'cause I know he got my other letters. He replied to them already. Uh, did your friend just move into his house? Maybe Stanley's letters aren't being forwarded correctly, you think?\"\n\nI had as many questions as he did. \"I don't know what's going on, Mr. Hull. My friend has lived at that address for years. We think maybe Mr. Mathisen is actually using my friend's mailbox to get his mail, or something weird like that.\"\n\n\"That just couldn't be possible,\" the locksmith insisted. \"Stanley told me all about the nice house he was living in over there. There's gotta be another explanation for this.\"\n\n\"I know, Sir, this does seem strange. What else did he tell you about living in Washington?\"\n\nBrett Hull then went on to talk for a good five minutes about all the stuff that Stanley had written in his letters: fishing in the beautiful Washington lakes, swimming in the Pacific, his job as a night auditor at a local motel, his favorite Italian restaurant on the corner, and lots more.\n\nFinally, I built up the courage to interrupt his rambling. \"Mr. Hull, I hate to cut this short, but I really must get going. I have to catch the school bus.\"\n\nIt was an awkward conversation that just got more awkward as we tried to say goodbye. He told me his grandson was teaching him how to use e-mail, so I gave him my e-mail address and told him he could write me, and he said he would, but only if I promised to write him the moment I figured out where Stanley was.\n\nI hung up the phone, hurried to put my books in my backpack, and scurried out the door. As I waited for the bus to round the corner, I couldn't help but shake my head. I did not know which was more sad: the fact that some lonely old man had made up all kinds of stuff and sent stories in letters to impress an old college buddy, or that his friend was so clueless that he couldn't distinguish between reality and a good old fish story. All I knew was that now I was determined to find Mr. Mathisen and ask him some questions myself.\n\nWell, on the bus ride to school I filled in AJ and Scooter on the whole conversation and we all agreed on my assessment that Mr. Mathisen must be a lonely man, wanting his friends to think he was better off than he really was. We also agreed on one other thing—we had a lot to do when school was out!\n\nSchool seemed to go on for eternity that day, but, like we hoped AJ would do at the end of the year, it did eventually pass. So we once again found ourselves at four o'clock up in Scooter's bedroom, munching on fresh-baked snacks and relaxing from a hard day at school. (Yeah, right—I'm just kidding, school was easy.)\n\nScooter was checking his e-mail while AJ and me stretched out on the bed and tried to throw balled-up socks through the moving ceiling fan without touching it. If you didn't throw it just right, the ceiling fan would catch the sock and bat it across the room. The socks would usually land near or on the dirty clothes hamper.\n\nWhen I actually made a basket in the hamper, the game quickly changed to _trying_ to hit the fan to make a basket. The game lasted about ten minutes—that's how long it took to empty Scooter's sock drawer and totally trash his room.\n\nAs we got up to pick up the socks strewn across the room (Scooter's pretty uptight about keeping his room clean), Scooter wheeled back from his computer.\n\n\"Well, I didn't get any e-mail, but I found the furniture store online. Tyler, did you find anything interesting about them when you did your digging?\"\n\n\"Nah. Looks like they sell mostly do-it-yourself-type furniture. Maybe Mathisen is looking to upgrade his furniture in his treehouse? Just kidding. Anyway, speaking of e-mail,\" I remembered, \"can I check mine and see if Mr. Hull happened to write me?\"\n\nScooter jumped out of his seat and let me in front of the computer. I had two new messages. One was from a girl at school who I had asked to join me to watch the district track meet coming up. The subject of the e-mail said, \"Sorry I can't make it!\" Well, I wasn't very anxious to open up the e-mail and read her excuse why she couldn't go, so I skipped it and went to the second. It was from Mr. Hull! Apparently he had figured out how to send an e-mail. It read:\n\nDear Tyler,\n\nMy grandson set up an e-mail account for me, so now I am \"on-line\" as the kids say. It was very pleasant talking to you, and I hope maybe we can be penpals—or rather, keyboard pals. (Ha Ha) Well, write back if you want to. I would love to hear what you think of your Seattle Mariners out there. They are pounding my Chicago White Sox this week. Do you like baseball, Tyler? What other sports do you watch?\n\nWell anyway, I will let you go. You told me you had not met my friend Stanley, so I am sending you a recent picture of him that he mailed to me a while back. My grandson somehow took the photo I have and stuck it in this e-mail. Can you believe what they can do with a computer these days?\n\nTake Care,\n\nBrett\n\nI quickly opened the attachment and told the guys to come look. I wanted all of us to see the unveiling of our mysterious mailbox-mate at the same time. Three seconds later, we were staring at a man who looked to be in his sixties holding up a fish the size of a baseball bat. We all looked at each other in agreement. Although we had not seen him from very close, we were pretty sure that the man grinning from ear to ear with a fish in his hand was the same man using Scooter's mailbox.\n\n### Chapter 3\n\n# Jingle All the Way\n\n\"Well, at least now we are pretty sure that someone else's mail is coming here on purpose. And based on that someone's immediate reaction—running—when spotted, combined with the trajectory of that run—straight back behind my house—and the ease with which he avoided detection once he reached his target destination, we can reasonably assume that that someone likes to hang out in my backyard woods,\" Scooter said matter-of-factly.\n\nAJ grinned as he added, \"Yeah, someone named Stanley P. Mathisen!\"\n\nLeave it to AJ to state the obvious.\n\nI had so many questions running through my mind. If this guy lived in Scooter's woods, how was he mailing letters to his friend in Chicago? And how did he travel to whatever body of water was in that picture? And what did he do with that huge fish he caught? These questions did not have obvious answers, so I asked one that I thought needed to be answered real quick: \"So what do we do now?\"\n\n\"Well so far we have only seen him run into the woods, right?\" Scooter asked.\n\nAJ and me answered in unison, \"Right.\"\n\n\"So, technically, the only reason we think he _stayed_ in the woods is because that is where we last saw him, correct?\"\n\n\"Right, Scooter,\" I said, \"But we _have_ heard stories from kids on the bus about an old man who roams those woods at night. I know we laughed them off as ghost stories, but maybe those stories are true and this is the guy they saw.\" I tapped the picture of Stanley Mathisen still on the computer monitor for a little extra emphasis.\n\n\"I see where you are going with this, Tyler, but all we really know for sure is that he comes around my house to get his mail and he probably knows the woods pretty well because he uses them as an escape route.\" Scooter pointed out into the backyard. \"For all we know, he could be staying anywhere, and he just happens to get from Point A to Point B through those woods.\"\n\n\"And he just happens to have a thing for Scooter's mailbox!\" AJ said, amusing himself.\n\nNot giving AJ the satisfaction of even a snicker, I went on, \"Well, let me ask you this, Scooter.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"The next housing development is—what—a quarter-mile away? And it's all woods between here and there. I know we have spent plenty of time back in those woods over the years, but wouldn't you concede that the Titanic could be hidden somewhere in those woods and we wouldn't even know it?\"\n\n\"So what's your point?\" Scooter was beginning to sound frustrated.\n\n\"My point is that he _could_ be living in your woods and all those 'stories' could be true. That's all I am saying!\"\n\n\"And all I am saying is, let's not jump to any major conclusions yet. Let's go with what we know.\"\n\nA little side note: That phrase is one of my pet peeves. It seems like Scooter's favorite thing to say is \"Let's go with what we know.\" It drives me nuts, but he is usually right. I try and connect the dots way too quickly and then find out that some of the dots were actually crumbs from breakfast. Scooter, on the other hand, likes to collect his thoughts. Sometimes I just wish his thoughts were a little closer to each other so it wouldn't take so long to do the collecting.\n\nAJ, man of action that he is, was getting antsy, too. \"So what do we do now? We know he uses your mailbox. We could boobytrap your mailbox with some paintballs or something, so when he opens it up he'll be covered in paint. And we could use really bright paint, so we can find him even if he lives deep in the woods!\"\n\nThe mental picture gave all of us a chuckle.\n\n\"There are a couple problems with your plan, AJ,\" Scooter said. \"Firstly, the mailman has to get in the mailbox. Secondly, we would have to make sure my parents don't check the mail while the box is boobytrapped. If either the mailman or one of my parents stumbled into our trap, I am sure I would be grounded until I graduate college. And besides, I don't think Mr. Mathisen will be checking the mail anytime soon. He was almost caught the last time, and I am sure he will be lying low for a while.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't know how, but I would really like to catch up with Mr. Mathisen,\" I jumped in, \"if for no other reason than because I want to ask him where he sleeps at night and how he managed to avoid being seen getting into your mailbox until yesterday.\"\n\n\"Yes, I agree. I have no hard feelings toward him. His use of our mailbox is no big deal, either. I think my juvenile curiosity is the sole motivation for wanting to find him.\"\n\n\"Did you just say 'juvenile curiosity'?\" I asked with a chuckle. \"Scoot, you _are_ a nerd.\"\n\n\"Yeah, and how about 'sole motivation'?\" AJ grinned. \"Sounds like an Eighties band.\"\n\n\"Sorry, guys,\" Scooter chuckled, \"I got carried away there with the vocab we're working on in English class. All I am saying is, my curiosity is killing me. Things just don't quite add up, and when things don't add up, it eats at me.\"\n\nIf only he knew how many more times things wouldn't add up and how much trouble his curiosity would get us in.\n\n\"We have two options,\" he continued, \"either we go and find him, or we give him a reason to find us.\"\n\n\"Well, as I said before, that's a lot of woods to search,\" I said. \"It would be like finding a needle in a haystack when the needle's trying to hide from you. So what could we do to make him want to find us?\"\n\nWe all just sat there in silence for a while. Then AJ spoke up. \"I guess we could make flyers telling Mr. Mathisen we have his mail and post them on telephone poles throughout the neighborhood?\" I'm not sure if he was trying to be funny or serious.\n\n\"Actually, I have a better idea!\" Scooter said as he stood up, and before we knew it, he was out the door and headed down the stairs. When AJ and me got downstairs, we found Scooter rummaging through the closet, pulling yarn out of his mother's crotchet kit. He looked up as we neared.\n\nScooter continued, \"I don't know why he would come back around this house after the scare AJ gave him, but I just have this hunch that he will. So if and when he does we will know it.\"\n\nAJ and me looked at each other a little puzzled, but Scooter had a little half-smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, which told us that he was up to something. It's the face he always gets when he has a \"spectacular brainchild,\" as he would say.\n\nScooter went on to explain his plan. Then, it took us a little over an hour to set it all up. Scooter first ransacked his mother's yarn closet (he said she had so much yarn she would never even miss it), and then we went to the garage and dug out the Christmas decorations. Scooter found a huge wreath made entirely of jingle bells, and he had AJ and me take it apart by unraveling the large wire that held all the bells in place. It was kind of fun until Scooter informed us that we would have to put it back together later. Then, he said, \"Off to the backyard!\"\n\nLet me explain a little bit about the layout of Scooter's yard so you understand the plan. The front yard is a very small patch of grass next to the driveway leading up to the garage. There is an eight-foot strip of grass that runs down each side of the house and connects to the backyard. But once you get to the backyard, you are now standing on Mr. Parks' pride and joy, what he likes to call \"The Lawn.\"\n\nWe like to call it our football field. It is almost a perfect rectangle of grass that runs the full length of the back of the house and then some, perfect for football—we just make the end zone lines where the house ends.\n\nThe yard goes back from the house about fifty feet before you hit the treeline. So you can guess where out-of-bounds is. (\"That was a nice diving catch, but sorry, you were out of bounds! Here, let me unwrap you from those fir branches.\") Anyway, if you are standing on the back porch you can see that the first thirty feet of trees are mostly fir and madrone, so the woods aren't very thick at first, but then after that you start to get into much more dense pine and fir, where _the sun_ barely gets through, let alone anything else.\n\nOn the right and left, you will find what they call green-belts, which are like fences made of trees and bushes. They are about thirty feet wide and separate Scooter's yard from his neighbors' yards. Unfortunately, Mr. Parks has let them stay natural for way too long, especially the green-belt over on the left side of the yard. Over the years, blackberry bushes have gotten a mind of their own and basically exploded from the treeline and moved all the way up to the edge of the lawn.\n\nSo now, instead of relatively painless trees and shrubs, there is a wall of thorny blackberries that runs the full width of the football end zone. In some places, the blackberry vines are taller than I am! Although they're great for picking berries in the summer, it stinks when you have to mow the lawn on that edge, not to mention running out the back of the end zone playing football.\n\nSo back to the yarn and jingle bells. Scooter took us out into the woods among the fir and madrone and had us weave the yarn in and out and around all the trees at about knee level, so if you were to look down at the woods from above, it would look like a gigantic spiderweb. We used up two big rolls of yarn, starting at the front treeline and going back as far back as we could without running into the thicker woods. AJ went to the right until he ran up against the neighbors' woods, and I went as far left as I could without poking myself on some blackberries.\n\nThen Scooter came in behind us and tied jingle bells to pieces of yarn throughout the woods, so there were jingle bells hanging everywhere about eighteen inches off the ground. Oh, you should have seen it!\n\nStanding on the lawn, looking at the woods, AJ spoke up, \"I see now! In the dark you won't be able to see the yarn, and nobody can enter your woods without making a whole lot of Christmas noise!\"\n\nI said, \"And I don't know if you planned it this way, Scooter, but I think we put the yarn just high enough that a grown man will trip on it but any critters will pass under it without making a sound.\"\n\n\"That's right,\" Scooter said. \"Tonight I'll hang out at my window and be the lookout while you two sit on the back porch with the light out. The second we hear jingle bells, you two flick on the back porch light, which should pretty well illuminate the whole backyard and most of the woods. If we see him, then you two go chase him. If you can't catch him, at least I should be able to see where he goes from my lookout window.\n\n\"I'll try and help give directions the best I can from up there,\" he said, pointing up at his second-story bedroom window. \"We'll use my walkie-talkies to coordinate our efforts.\"\n\nAJ and me agreed it sounded like a great plan and we decided to meet in the backyard after supper at around 8 p.m. It would start getting dark around then, and I knew by that time I would have the dishes done. Or better yet, somehow trick my sister into doing them. Either way, the date was set for eight.\n\n### Chapter 4\n\n# Vanishing Act\n\nIt took a little convincing to get my sister to take my turn at doing the dishes after supper. I reminded her that I knew about her secret crush on Bobby Jenkins from Math class, and she decided that doing dishes was a small price to pay in order to keep it secret. I was out my front door by 7:30, and AJ and me were on Scooter's back porch in our ninja uniforms by 7:50.\n\nWe didn't know the first thing about karate or any real martial arts stuff, but we were wearing all the black clothes we owned and we figured that was good enough to make us at least half-ninja. We had our walkie-talkie volume set very low, just loud enough to hear Scooter barking instructions from his perch in his bedroom window above us.\n\n\"All right, fellas,\" he said, \"remember, we don't want to cause Mr. Mathisen any harm; we just want to corner him so we can ask him some questions.\"\n\n\"So what should we say to try and get him to stop running away from us?\" I whispered back.\n\n\"I would just yell out his name, and that ought to freeze him in his tracks, if only for a moment.\" Scooter replied.\n\n\"Alright, Scoot, let's go to radio silence for a while.\"\n\n\"Ten-four,\" he said, and then the radio went silent.\n\nAJ and me sat in near silence on the lawn chairs on the back porch for what seemed like a couple hours, but it was probably closer to forty-five minutes. The wind rushing though the treetops almost lulled me to sleep. Only an occasional distant dog barking kept me from dozing off completely.\n\nScooter came back on the radio. \"What do you guys think? Should we call it a night and try again Saturday?\"\n\nAJ would have none of it. \"No way! My parents said I could be out until 11 p.m., and I am not going home a second before that.\"\n\nI knew my mom was a little more \"involved in the parenting process\" than AJ's parents were (eleven o'clock is pushing it with her, even on a Friday), especially since my dad was currently out to sea with the Navy. But I didn't want to be the one to crash the party, so I kept my mouth shut.\n\n\"All right, fine by me,\" Scooter whispered back on the radio, \"I'll stay as long as you guys do.\" He chuckled into the walkie-talkie. Of course he would stay as long as we would. The difference is he would be sitting comfortably in his bedroom while we had to be perfectly quiet sitting in the dark with a chilly breeze that still hadn't figured out it was supposed to be spring already. Plus, I could have sworn there was a screw that was working its way loose from my lawn chair and burrowing into my left leg.\n\nSuddenly jingle bells started ringing. In the stillness of the night, the chorus of jingle bells was much louder than I thought it would be. This experiment might wake up the whole neighborhood!\n\nAJ flicked on the back porch light. Now the whole backyard was aglow with light. I grabbed the walkie-talkie and jumped up. More bells were clanging now. AJ and me could clearly see a man on his knees in the far left corner near the blackberry bushes. He was having a heck of a time trying to untangle himself from the yarn.\n\nWe sprinted across the lawn. Scooter screamed over the radio, \"He's over by the blackberries!\"\n\n\"I know! We can see him!\" I huffed as we neared the treeline.\n\nMore bells jingled as Mathisen struggled toward the dense woods. He had only fifteen feet to go. If he got that far, we knew we would never find him again.\n\nWhen we got to the woods, AJ and me encountered the first flaw in our plan. Although the light lit up the backyard fairly well and allowed us to see a six-foot man clambering through the woods, it did not help much at seeing all the yarn we had laid out for our boobytrap.\n\nAs I jumped over the first piece of yarn, I landed squarely on the next. I crashed to the ground. My flailing arms caught AJ's ankle, and he toppled headfirst in front of me. The bells _really_ jingled now. As we untangled ourselves, Scooter came back on the radio, \"He just went behind that big madrone tree. He is out of my line of sight!\"\n\nAJ and me scanned the woods. The old man was nowhere to be seen. I started in the direction we had last seen the man, but AJ grabbed me by the shirt and stopped me. \"Hold still and listen.\"\n\nAs we stood and listened in the silence, we realized just that—it was silent. After about ten more seconds of listening, I got back on the walkie-talkie. \"Scooter, do you see any more movement?\"\n\nScooter replied, \"No, nothing. For all I know, he's standing right behind that tree. I haven't taken my eyes off it since he ducked behind it.\"\n\n\"Which tree is that?\"\n\n\"It's at your ten o'clock, Tyler. The tree is about twenty inches wide and about ten feet from the edge of the thicker woods.\"\n\nI turned a little to my left and immediately knew which tree he was talking about because all the other trees were way too skinny for a person to hide behind. Even that one would have been tough, but I thought if Mathisen turned sideways, he might fit. But from our vantage point, we could see the backside of the tree, and there was no old man in sight.\n\nAJ and me slowly high-stepped our way to the tree, trying not to kick any more jingle bells. When we reached the tree, our conclusion was the same: still no old man. I radioed back to Scooter as I put my hand on the tree. \"It was this tree, right?\"\n\nScooter replied, frustration in his voice, \"Yes! That is where I last saw him. He went behind that tree and didn't come out.\"\n\n\"Well, two seconds later, the bells stopped ringing,\" I said. \"There is no way he could have made it back into the dense woods without making any more noise.\"\n\n\"Or without us seeing him,\" AJ added.\n\nAJ and me stood there puzzled for a minute until Scooter appeared at the back porch with a high-beam flashlight. Scooter \"jingled\" his way over to us through the maze of yarn and bells and immediately turned on the flashlight, shining it straight up into the trees.\n\n\"Well, we know he could not have made it back to the dense woods. And if he had gotten over to those blackberry bushes, he would be making all kinds of other noise, so he must have climbed a tree,\" he reasoned.\n\nWe nodded in agreement and followed the flashlight beam with our eyes as Scooter scanned the branches above us. After about five minutes of seeing nothing, we gave up.\n\nAJ was the first to speak up. \"I don't know about you guys, but this is freaking me out!\"\n\n\"It's as if he vanished into thin air,\" I said.\n\nScooter was trying to keep a cool head. \"Once again, things just don't add up. How could some old guy just disappear?\"\n\nNo one offered an answer or explanation, probably because any answer we could give wouldn't explain much. All I knew was this Mathisen guy had just reached a new all-time high for Mysterious.\n\n### Chapter 5\n\n# Right Under Our Noses\n\nThe weekend was rather uneventful. After sleeping in until almost 10 a.m. Saturday morning, I moseyed on over to Scooter's house and found AJ and Scooter were already tearing down our jingle bell trap. Apparently, Mrs. Parks was a little irritated at Scooter for having disassembled her Christmas wreath. It was a good thing she wasn't upset about the yarn too, because it was definitely _not_ reusable by the time we had it untangled from the trees.\n\nLike most projects that Scooter takes on, it took us massively more time to put the wreath back together than it took to take it apart. We spent the majority of Saturday afternoon in his garage trying to wire all the jingle bells back together in a big circle. I went home that night with a \"ringing\" headache.\n\nSunday, I didn't see Scooter or AJ, since I was busy with church for the majority of the day.\n\nMonday was pretty uneventful, too. Scooter had to go with his family after school to his little brother's swimming lessons. So I hung out with AJ at his house and wasted the afternoon playing his new flight simulator video game and speculating how Mr. Mathisen could have disappeared into thin air like he did Friday night.\n\nWell, I had a real hard time sleeping Monday night. I had played video games way too long—every time I closed my eyes I saw jet planes zipping around. And I kept thinking about where that old man could have disappeared to in the woods. Pretty soon, I was seeing jet planes flying through the woods with Mathisen in the cockpit of each one!\n\nI tossed and turned in my bed like I was on the junior-high wrestling team, and despite the fact that I had my ceiling fan on, I was sweating like crazy. Somewhere in the dark, I heard jingle bells start ringing, and I saw from across the lawn the old man tangled up in the yarn, just like he had been on Friday night. The bells started getting louder and louder, and a fog was settling into the woods so that the man was becoming blurrier and blurrier. The bells kept getting louder and louder and more in rhythm, and the woods were becoming more and more of a blur until with a simple _click_ , the ringing stopped. A sharp pain shot through my right foot. I awoke with a jump to find my mom squeezing my toes—really hard.\n\nShe smiled as I jerked my foot away from her grasp. \"You know, Tyler, if you're so tired that your alarm won't even wake you up, then maybe you shouldn't stay out so late with your friends.\"\n\nI tried to shake off the morning mumbles and give her a coherent answer. \"The alarm must not have gone off, Mom. I must have set it for p.m. again.\"\n\nMy mom just laughed. \"Oh, no, it went off for a good five minutes. I finally had to come in here and turn it off myself.\"\n\n\"Really? I was dreaming about bells ringing in the woods, but I thought it was just a dream.\"\n\n\"No, Sir, the alarm was going off right next to your head, and you didn't even stir. I think we may have to have a talk with your dad regarding curfew. I don't think you are getting enough sleep.\"\n\nI knew if Dad had his way, my curfew would be sometime shortly after supper, and he would also find it a good idea for me to get up at the crack of dawn, when _he_ began work, and start studying then.\n\n\"After all, that's when the mind works at its best,\" he'd say. I had heard it all before, and I did _not_ want him to have a justifiable reason for implementing either of those crazy ideas. So I jumped up and out of bed to try and fake that I was well-rested.\n\n\"No, Mom, that won't be necessary. I'm getting enough sleep; it was just a dream that seemed a little too real. If anything, I now know I can't eat chocolate before I go to bed.\"\n\n\"What?\" she exclaimed. \"You had chocolate before bed? Well, did you at least brush your teeth, Son?\"\n\nI'm glad I had my back to her as I headed out of the room towards the shower; she would have really had a cow if she'd seen me rolling my eyes at her. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.\n\n\"Mom, I am going to be just fine. And so are my teeth.\" I shut the door to the bathroom and the conversation and started the water for my shower.\n\nAlthough I was tired, the day still seemed to fly by pretty quickly, mainly because it was Tuesday. Tuesdays are always great days for me because we get to play tackle football after school. At the beginning of the school year, there were quite a few of us kids who wanted to try out for the football team, but our parents wouldn't let us. Each one of us was given the same lame excuse that football is too violent and our parents were scared that we might get hurt. So pretty soon, all of us football rejects started a weekly Tuesday game of two-hand-touch football in Scooter's nicely manicured backyard.\n\nWell, if you have ever played \"touch\" football before, you know it doesn't stay that way for long. Pretty soon someone \"touches\" someone else a little hard, and then every play becomes a harder \"two-handed touch\" than the one before until everyone is essentially playing tackle football. Somehow, the word got out to our parents that we were playing tackle football every Tuesday. (I am guessing it was Joel Mezick who ratted us out, but only because he couldn't explain why he came home with a black eye.) To our surprise, our parents agreed that it would be OK to continue playing tackle football on Tuesdays as long as we did it under the watchful eye of Scooter's mom. So that's what we do. I find it funny that my mother won't let me go and get in a dogpile with a bunch of boys with pads and helmets on, but she will let me knock heads with a bunch of rowdy boys with no protection. Go figure.\n\nWell, this Tuesday we didn't have a very good turnout. The junior-high band had their big spring concert coming up, so a lot of kids were still at practice. Eight of us sat on the back porch and talked while we waited to see if anyone else would show up late.\n\nAfter about fifteen minutes, Sammy Cordova spoke up, \"It looks like no one else is going to show up, so let's pick teams and play.\" We quickly chose sides and proceeded to dogpile, scramble, and victory dance the afternoon away.\n\nAt about 5 p.m., the team that Scooter and me were on was beating AJ's team by a score of 77 to 63. (Normally, AJ's too busy with real sports to play, but he was here because our school's track team didn't make it to the district competition, so their season was over.) We had a good two-touchdown lead, but they had the ball and were quickly moving down the field. I think we were all pretty tired—I know I was; it takes a lot of effort to beat AJ.\n\nAJ was the quarterback (of course), and I could see it in his eyes that he was thinking end zone all the way. Joel hiked the ball. Sammy sprinted for the end zone over near the blackberries. I was playing Safety and inched my way towards Sammy in the corner of the end zone. You see, the secret to the Safety position is to stay just far enough away from the receiver that the quarterback thinks he can throw the ball fast enough that it will reach the receiver before you get there, but you need to be close enough that you can prove him wrong and break up the pass.\n\nMy strategy worked: AJ threw to Sammy. I took off. He threw a high Hail Mary towards the corner of the end zone. Sammy, taller than anyone on my team, could out-jump us all to catch the high pass. I had one chance.\n\nThe ball came down. I jumped up to meet it, arms flailing, hoping to distract Sammy. Some part of Sammy—I'm not sure what—crashed into my shoulder, and we both fell to the ground in a twisted mess.\n\nI soon found out that my plan paid off. When I waved my arms, I distracted Sammy just long enough for him to lose sight of the ball. The ball bounced off his head and landed deep in the blackberry bushes. Sammy then came down on top of me, and we both hit the ground. Very hard, I might add.\n\nOnce the Keller twins saw that the ball was stuck in the blackberries, they decided to call it a game. Sammy, with his hurt pride and bruised buttocks, decided to call it quits, too. Soon everyone except Joel, AJ, Scooter, and me had gone home. The only reason Joel stuck around is because it was his football.\n\nScooter ran into the house and came back shortly, wearing long pants and carrying a baseball bat. AJ and me laughed as Scooter started swinging at the blackberry vines. For those of you who have never had to fight with blackberries, let me explain the best way to retrieve anything that gets \"misplaced\" in those prickly bushes. You take a stick (or bat in this case) and chop straight down at the mass of blackberries. You don't try and chop them in half or anything, you are simply trying to beat them down low enough so you can step on them (wearing thick shoes, of course) to hold them down. Then you start chopping at the next section. You keep doing this until you have blazed yourself a nice little path straight to whatever got thrown or kicked or batted into the thorny bushes in the first place. You know, blackberries make the best shakes and pies and cobblers, but they sure can be a big pain in the... well, anywhere not covered by two layers of thick clothes.\n\nAfter a while, Scooter had a fifteen-foot trail blazed into the blackberry patch to the football. He stretched out and grabbed the football and threw it backward over his head into the waiting arms of its owner, Joel Mezick. As Joel looked over his ball for any hitchhiker thorns, Scooter let out a loud screech and began high-stepping his way back towards us on the trail he had just made. Once he hit the safety of the grass, he just kept on running past us without a word and disappeared through the back door of his house. AJ, Joel, and me just looked at each other with puzzled expressions.\n\n\"What got into him?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"I don't know, but I don't feel like tromping through those thorns just to find out,\" I said with a chuckle. \"My curiosity is not that strong.\"\n\n\"Well, you guys can stick around, but I am through for the day. I'll catch you guys tomorrow at school.\" Joel turned toward the side of the house.\n\n\"Alright, Joel, we'll catch you up on the latest Scooter freak-out session once we find out ourselves,\" I said.\n\n\"Yeah, we'll see ya, Joel,\" AJ laughed.\n\nI waved as Joel disappeared around the corner, headed toward the front yard. AJ and me started strolling toward the back door.\n\nAs we reached the back porch, Scooter opened the back door. Apparently, he had been watching us walk up. \"So is he gone?\" he asked.\n\n\"Is who gone?\" I replied. \"Did you see a ghost or something?\"\n\n\"No, you dolt. Is Joel gone?\"\n\n\"Yes, he went home. Why? What was all the screaming for?\" I asked, still puzzled.\n\n\"Oh, nothing. And me sprinting inside was nothing, too. I just had to make Joel decide to go home without me flat-out asking him to.\"\n\n\"Why did you want Joel to go home? What did he do?\" AJ asked, as confused as I was.\n\n\"He didn't do anything, guys. I just didn't want him to see what I am about to show you.\"\n\nWith that, Scooter headed toward his blazed trail through the blackberry bushes, picking up the bat again to beat down the vines that were already starting to lift back up. AJ and me followed blindly behind, still confused. Scooter walked in and stopped after about twelve feet and pointed to our left. A few feet off the beaten path—but clearly seen underneath the thorny vines—was a big metal plate. The plate was very similar to a sewer plate you would find in the middle of the street. It was about three feet in diameter, and it had a big metal handle sticking up on one side.\n\nWe were still a few feet away from the metal plate, but even from there I could see that the dirt surrounding the plate was compacted. But as I looked a little closer, a chill suddenly ran up my spine. There were large footprints in the dirt around the plate!\n\n### Chapter 6\n\n# Access Denied\n\nThe three of us just stared at what looked like a manhole cover sitting underneath the blackberry branches. AJ spoke up first. \"So what do you think it is, Scooter?\"\n\n\"There is only one way to find out!\" Scooter said as he began clearing away the remaining few feet of branches so we could get to the handle of the big metal plate. AJ and me joined in with the task of moving thorny branches out of the way, and pretty soon we were all huddled underneath the bowing branches, staring at the lid in front of us.\n\nFor such thick blackberries, I thought, there sure is a lot of room to move around.\n\nScooter held his hand on the big metal plate as if to keep it closed and pointed with his other hand. \"Hey, guys, look! A tunnel!\"\n\nI turned to look where he pointed, and I understood why there was so much room to move around. There was a tunnel almost three feet high that ran away from us. It went straight backwards along the greenbelt line toward the really dense woods and appeared to dead-end in a wall of thorns about fifty feet back. I was about to go explore the tunnel when Scooter snapped his fingers and hollered for my attention.\n\n\"Hey, Ty, don't you want to see what's in here?\" He motioned towards the metal plate in front of him.\n\n\"Oh, yeah, my bad,\" I said. The tunnel exploration would have to wait just a bit.\n\nThe plate in front of us looked very similar to a manhole cover—almost identical in shape and material. It had four holes set in a square near the middle of the circle, and the surface had raised little squares to give it sort of a waffle-iron look. In fact, the only thing that made me sure it was not a very misplaced manhole cover was the metal handle that was attached to one side.\n\nScooter turned the handle and braced himself to heave open the huge lid, but to our surprise, it swung upward very easily. The lid was hinged on the side away from the handle, and you could tell the whole thing had been well-oiled because it hardly made a sound as it opened. We all looked at each other with a mixture of excitement and fright and, without a word, turned our heads toward what was lying in the hole once covered by the big metal plate.\n\nThe sun was starting its descent behind the mountains, but it still shone into the blackberries at just such an angle that we could see fairly clearly a few feet into the hole.\n\nRight beneath the lid was the top rung of a ladder that descended straight down out of sight. AJ was halfway down the ladder before Scooter or I could stop him.\n\n\"AJ, what are you doing?\" we both said, practically in unison.\n\n\"I'm checking out Mathisen's hideout, that's what!\" he hollered back up the ladder.\n\nEven though no one had actually said it aloud, I think we had all jumped to that same conclusion the second we saw the big metal plate.\n\n\"So what do you see down there?\" I asked.\n\n\"Not much, guys,\" he said. \"This room is only about ten feet long by five feet wide and maybe about ten feet tall. It looks almost like a huge closet, but with a ladder in it.\"\n\n\"Hardly the place for someone to live in, AJ,\" Scooter said, disappointed. \"Is there anything lying on the floor? Any markings on the walls? Something that would prove Mr. Mathisen has ever been down there?\"\n\n\"Nope, just four smooth concrete walls and a ladder. Wait! Hold on a minute, one of these walls is not concrete at all. It feels more like some kind of metal. And it's a little warmer than the other walls, too.\"\n\nI couldn't stand to just listen any longer. I pushed past Scooter and shimmied down the ladder until I was standing next to AJ. There was plenty of room for both of us. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the dark room after being out in the sunlight all day. I blinked rapid-fire to try and make my eyes adjust faster, but I gave up once I realized the sun was starting to set and my vision ten feet below ground was only going to get worse the longer I waited.\n\nI turned to AJ and asked, \"Alright, now which wall do you think is warmer than the others?\"\n\nAJ placed his hand on the wall opposite the ladder, and I followed with mine. Sure enough, it was warm compared to the cold steel ladder. I rubbed my hands along the wall for no other reason than to be doing something while I tried to think. After a few swipes of my hand, my pinky finger jammed against something. It was a handle!\n\nThe handle was about four inches long at about chest level. It reminded me of the handle on my dad's gun safe. I wrenched the handle down and clockwise, and it turned from the original position of pointing to the right to pointing straight downward. The handle turned easily—in fact, too easily. I could tell that twisting the handle was not actually opening anything, and when I let go of the handle, it just sprang back into its original position.\n\nScooter's voice echoed down from the top of the ladder: \"Guys, what did you find?\"\n\n\"Well, I found what feels like some sort of handle just sticking out of the wall,\" I said. \"But I can't see too clearly. Why don't you grab a flashlight real quick?\"\n\n\"Okie-dokie\" is all I heard as the shadow above us disappeared from the hole's entrance. With so many new thoughts rushing through my head, it seemed to take hours for Scooter to return, but it was only a couple minutes before a \"Head's up!\" was followed by a near concussion as his flashlight bounced off my shoulder and clattered on the concrete floor.\n\n\"Ow! You idiot! Do you think you could give me a little more warning before pelting me with stuff?\" I was a bit peeved, but I got over it when I turned on the flashlight.\n\nThe light from the flashlight made everything start to make sense. As the flashlight beam hit the wall, AJ and me could see that what we both had been feeling on the wall was a huge steel door. It was about seven feet tall and was almost as wide as the room itself. There was no door jamb, so unless you had a flashlight, it was hard to tell where the door started and ended. But when you took a step back, you could see it looked just like one of those huge steel doors you see in bank vaults. There was the small handle that I had previously come across, and just above the handle was a funny-looking keyhole.\n\nI reached out and tried to turn the handle again, and once again it moved with ease. Once I pulled down on the handle, I tried to pull open the door, and of course it didn't budge. To be honest, I didn't think it would. The way the handle moved, I knew the door must be locked.\n\nI shone the light along the other walls and the floor and told AJ to look and see if he saw some sort of key. After a few seconds, we both realized the floor was actually very clean and we weren't going to find anything else down in the hole. We turned off the flashlight and climbed the ladder to meet a very anxious Scooter.\n\n\"The door is locked, and there isn't exactly a welcome mat to hide a key under,\" I said as I reached the top of the ladder. My earlier excitement had faded just like the warmth from the May sun.\n\n\"I guess we could set up our jingle bell alarm system again,\" AJ suggested. \"When Mathisen comes back, we can catch him inside.\"\n\n\"No way, dude. Mathisen is not going to fall for our set-up a second time. See that tunnel?\" Scooter pointed down the hallway of blackberries towards the thick woods. \"He will just take that tunnel and avoid our trap altogether.\"\n\n\"Besides,\" I added, \"I still hear phantom jingle bells every time I close my eyes!\"\n\nAs Scooter shut the metal lid, my curiosity was rekindled to explore the tunnel I had seen earlier. I started heading down the blackberry hallway, and AJ and Scooter fell in line behind me. I went only about twenty feet when I came across a second trail that branched off to the right. It was headed directly toward the thinner woods. To my disappointment, it dead-ended after only about ten feet. I turned to speak to AJ, who was right behind me.\n\n\"It looks like Mathisen started cutting a second exit tunnel from the inside out but hasn't finished it yet.\"\n\nI don't know why, but I decided to go to the dead-end of the tunnel anyway. I guess I was just curious about how close he was to finishing.\n\nWhen I got to the end, I realized there were a lot of blackberries to my left that were cut but hadn't been moved yet. I grabbed a hold of a couple thick branches, careful to avoid thorns, and pushed. To my surprise and embarrassment, the entire wall of branches gave way, and I tumbled out and stopped at the foot of a small madrone tree. AJ and Scooter quickly came to my side and helped me up. As we turned back around to look at the blackberries we had just escaped from, Scooter hopped up and down with excitement.\n\n\"Look what you just found, Ty, it's a trap door!\" As he said this, he grabbed the branches that had just given way and, instead of picking them up, swung the mass of branches back over the mouth of the tunnel. It made a little camouflaged door.\n\n\"Fascinating!\" Scooter continued. \"Look, you can't even see the tunnel we just came through. And this little makeshift door of thorns looks like all the other bushes around it!\"\n\n\"That must be how Mathisen escaped our jingle bell trap!\" I said.\n\n\"I agree,\" Scooter said. \"I'm guessing that the other tunnel has a similar camouflaged door, and I bet that is the way he usually enters.\"\n\nJust then Mrs. Parks yelled from the back porch, \"Scooter! Boys! Are you out there? It's time to eat!\"\n\nThe thought of food was a distraction from our new discovery, but a welcome one. Scooter shouted back, \"Be right there, Mom!\"\n\nAfter making sure the \"blackberry door\" looked the way it probably did before I flung it open, we headed through the sparse woods towards the house.\n\nWhen we got to the path that Scooter had trampled with the bat, he took a few moments to sort of \"fluff\" the blackberries back up so they would look more alive and hide our tracks. In the waning light, it was hard to tell where we had entered the bushes. Speaking from personal experience with blackberry bushes, in a couple days those stubborn bushes would look as good as new.\n\n\"Let's pick this up after dinner,\" Scooter whispered as we stepped onto the Parks' backyard grass. AJ and me nodded in agreement, and the three of us ran inside the back door.\n\n### Chapter 7\n\n# What Time Is It?\n\nScooter's mom had fixed one of my favorite meals for supper—teriyaki chicken and rice. I don't think she knew it was one of my favorites when she cooked it, but I wanted to make sure she knew afterward. \"Thanks again for supper, Mrs. P; it really hit the spot! I think teriyaki chicken is one of my favorites!\"\n\n\"Yes, I know, Tyler. You have said so three times in the last ten minutes,\" she laughed. \"In fact, the best way for you to say 'thank you' is for you three boys to clear the table and get the dishes done.\"\n\nA couple groans from AJ and Scooter were accompanied by a kick in the shins under the table from AJ.\n\n\"Owwww,\" I said.\n\n\"What did you say, Tyler?\"\n\n\"Uh, nothing, Mrs. P. I said it would be my... er... _our_ pleasure.\"\n\nAJ tried to kick me again, but I had spread my legs and instead he just rammed his bare foot into the crossbar of my chair. I had to smile when I saw him grimace from the pain he caused himself.\n\nThe dishes didn't seem to take long at all to finish. I think partially because there were three of us working together (well, really only two because AJ mostly stood around complaining) and also because I was so distracted by my own thoughts. What was behind that steel door? Was it some sort of shelter for Mr. Mathisen? Why was it locked? Did he make the shelter? Did he find it? How long had it been there? Did Mathisen have the key? Did he have a spare stashed somewhere?\n\nMy thoughts were interrupted by Scooter. \"Hey, Tyler! Are you coming or not?\"\n\nI crawled out of my fuzzy world of questions and back to the world that held the answers. I looked up at Scooter. \"Huh?\"\n\nScooter motioned with his eyes that they were headed upstairs and said, \"We have to finalize our plans for this weekend, let's go!\"\n\nScooter was either speaking in code so his parents wouldn't ask any questions, or I had been inside my own head for a long time and had missed a ton of the conversation.\n\n\"Uh, OK, I'm coming,\" I said as I wandered up the stairs a few steps behind Scooter and AJ.\n\nI reached the top of the stairs and turned left into Scooter's room. \"So, guys, we don't actually have plans for this weekend, do we? That was just a—\"\n\n\"Code for 'get your butt upstairs'?\" Scooter interrupted. \"Yeah. Though what I was thinking we should do could very well end up taking some of our weekend.\"\n\nScooter then went on to explain the plan, which he and AJ had been whispering about while I was daydreaming in the dishsoap.\n\nThe way Scooter figured it, the old man was already pretty skittish from our previous encounters. But all three of us felt if we could just get his attention for a moment and explain who we were and that we meant no harm, he might actually listen.\n\nThe problem was, how could we get his attention? AJ suggested that we just tape a note to the steel door, and when he came back to the shelter, he could read it. But Scooter pointed out that Mr. Mathisen might think it was a trap and never set foot down that ladder again. And besides, if he always came home in the dark, he might not even see the note.\n\nSo Scooter suggested that we wait until Mr. Mathisen went into the hole and presumably went behind the steel door. We could then sneak over, quietly open the steel lid, and tape a note to the top rung of the ladder. That way, Mr. Mathisen would definitely see the note and would hopefully not feel trapped, because he would know that we knew he was down there and we chose not to disturb him. That was the theory, anyway. The question was, how would we know when he was down there? And that is where Scooter's plan came into play.\n\nSince we were pretty sure Mr. Mathisen only snuck into the hole at night, we knew we wouldn't be able to see him get in there unless we set up another alarm system, but we also didn't want to scare him away. So Scooter came up with a silent alarm.\n\nScooter had an old battery-powered clock radio that we used to take with us when we snuck over to the old drive-in. We would sometimes ride our bikes over into the woods near the theater and watch the movies from the shadows of the trees. We would tune the small radio to the drive-in radio frequency, and that little thing would put out just enough sound for the three of us to hear the movie but not enough to attract attention and get caught. Well, anyway, this little radio was central to Scooter's plan.\n\nScooter set the radio down on the window sill and ran out to the garage. He was back in a few minutes, carrying a large spindle of thin wire. He then had us rush out to the edge of the blackberry bushes with the radio, wires, and a wire cutter. He cut a small piece and attached it to where the positive end of the battery was supposed to fit into the back of the radio. The other end, he attached to the positive end of the battery. He then unrolled about twenty feet of wire and attached it to the negative side of the battery and ran the other end through the blackberries towards the metal plate. In the moonlight, you couldn't even see the wire; if anything, it just looked like another blackberry branch. I wondered what it would look like in broad daylight, though.\n\nThen, Scooter cut another twenty-foot piece of wire and attached one end to the negative side of the back of the radio and ran the rest of the wire towards the metal plate. And when he touched the ends of the two twenty-foot wires together, the clock radio lit up with a bright red 12:00. When he pulled the two wires apart, the 12:00 disappeared. I was a little confused about how it worked, but Scooter turned on his \"professor voice\" and explained the technical details to us.\n\n\"You see, men, the radio needs a complete electrical circuit in order to work. Normally, the positive and negative ends of the battery touch the positive and negative wires in the radio, and the circuit is a complete loop. I have made the loop much bigger by adding this long wire between the negative end of the battery and the negative connection on the radio. When I touch these two wires together, I am completing the loop, and the radio works.\"\n\nHe demonstrated again how touching the wires together made the time on the front of the radio start flashing. He resumed in his normal voice, \"And when the wires are not touching, I basically have two dead ends instead of a loop.\n\n\"Now, since the metal plate is... well, metal, if I touch both of these wires to different parts of the metal plate it also closes the loop, and the radio still works. So I am just going to put a small piece of paper here around one of the ends of the wire. The paper doesn't conduct electricity, so the circuit will stay open. But when Mr. Mathisen comes and opens the lid, the paper should fall off. So then when he is inside and closes the lid behind him, the paper will be gone, and the lid will be touching both wires, which will close the circuit again.\"\n\nHe finished setting things up at the plate, and we all walked back out of the blackberry bushes. Scooter positioned the radio on the ground and turned the face of the clock towards the house in the direction of his window. \"Now when Mr. Mathisen goes inside, the alarm clock time will pop on, and with those glowing red numbers, we should be able to see it from my window!\"\n\nIt really was an ingenious plan. I just hoped that Mr. Mathisen wouldn't somehow find the wires attached to the metal lid and be scared away. The odds were that he wouldn't be able to see them, with it being so dark outside, but you never know.\n\nWe scrambled back inside to discuss the next step in the plan—the letter. Scooter sat down at his computer to begin typing out what he thought we should put in the letter. It took forever for us to agree on just what to say. We even argued over how to address the letter. AJ thought we should say \"Dear Mr. Mathisen,\" but Scooter thought it might be intimidating to the old man if he knew that we knew so much about him. Should the letter sound like we were strangers trying to get to know him (and perhaps come across with unclear motives), or should we sound like friends that are just trying to help him out? Anyway, the final letter looked something like this:\n\nDear Sir,\n\nOur names our Scooter, Tyler, and AJ, and we are all junior-high students who live in this neighborhood. I (Scooter) happen to live in the house that shares these blackberry bushes with you. We understand that you want your privacy and that there is a reason you have never come up to the house to introduce yourself or anything, but we hope that perhaps the four of us could be friends. Just so you know, this is OUR LITTLE SECRET. We have not told our parents about this hole in the ground that we found, and if it is your wish, we will keep it that way. If possible, we would just like to meet you in person and go from there. If this arrangement sounds agreeable to you, then please write at the bottom of this paper how you would like us to proceed and when we should meet, and we will be there. If you do not want to meet us, then please let us know that as well, and we will leave you alone from now on. Either way, please leave your response note at the base of the three fir trees that appear to be growing out of the same stump, which is located near the entrance to your tunnel into the blackberries.\n\nYour new friends,\n\nScooter, Tyler, and AJ\n\nScooter pressed the print button while AJ asked the obvious question. \"So what if he says he doesn't want to meet us?\"\n\n\"Well, I would bet anything he doesn't,\" I said. \"You think he'd actually want to continue to hide down there if he knew that we knew he was down there all the time? He wants to feel safe, and with us knowing he's down there, he no longer is. But the only way he'll feel safe again is if he meets us and decides we really are harmless and will keep the secret with him.\"\n\nWe had been sitting there a long time writing the letter, and AJ stood up to stretch. He suddenly exclaimed, \"Guys, it is 12:25!\"\n\n\"It is only 8:55, AJ,\" Scooter answered, looking at the clock in the corner of his computer screen. \"I know it took a long time to write this letter, but it didn't take _that_ long!\"\n\n\"No, I mean, your alarm clock outside is blinking 12:25! Oops, now 12:26!\"\n\nScooter and me jumped up from the computer and ran over to the window. Sure enough, although you couldn't really see the clock radio itself, you could clearly see the glowing red numbers at the base of the blackberry bushes.\n\n\"Whoa, dude, it worked!\" Scooter exclaimed. \"And it says 12:26, so that means he just went in the hole less than half an hour ago!\"\n\nScooter grabbed the piece of paper off of the printer, and we all scrambled out of the bedroom. Halfway down the stairs, I stopped everyone in their tracks. \"Hey, guys, wait! If your mom sees that AJ and me are still here, she is going to make us head home.\"\n\n\"Well, it is almost 9:00. We should probably get home anyway,\" AJ added.\n\nSo we all headed back up to Scooter's room, where AJ and me gathered up our stuff to go home. We then walked back down the stairs and Scooter told his mom he was just \"seeing Tyler and AJ out,\" and we three walked out the front door.\n\nWe quickly snuck around the right side of the house, the side opposite where the blackberries and metal plate were, and walked straight back into the woods. We then inched our way down the blackberry tunnel toward the hole as slowly and as quietly as we could.\n\nWhen we got to the metal plate, I couldn't help but picture Mr. Mathisen right below where we were crouched. He was probably lying on a sleeping bag, settling down for a good night's sleep, completely oblivious to what was going on right above him.\n\nWithout making a sound, Scooter motioned for AJ to open the metal plate slowly. AJ did as he was told. I was half expecting a beam of light from a flashlight or candle to come streaming out of the hole as AJ opened the lid, and I even looked away, as if that light would burn any part of me that touched it. But as he opened the lid in silence, there was nothing to see except the same dark hole we had found earlier.\n\nAs Scooter taped our note to the top rung of the ladder, I looked around for the wires that Scooter had taped to the metal plate to make the radio work. After a few seconds of fumbling around in the dark, I found them and detached them from the plate and pulled them a couple feet away from the entrance to the hole. I knew then that the old man had not seen the wires when he climbed into the hole. I was looking for them and could barely find them; he surely wouldn't have stumbled upon them on accident.\n\nAs Scooter finished, AJ quietly closed the lid to the hole, and we all crawled out the way we had come. Once in the clear, Scooter turned to us. \"Now, we wait. You guys head home before you get in trouble. I will go and grab the radio and pull the wires out of the blackberries before I head back inside. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow to see if there is a note for us.\"\n\nAJ and me headed off to our houses and left Scooter to take on cleanup and lookout duty. Once I got to Scooter's front yard, I sprinted as fast as I could the couple blocks to my house—not because I was in a hurry to get home, but because I knew it was going to be hard to get to sleep with my adrenaline pumping and my imagination running wild. I figured maybe if my body was tired by the time I laid down it would be easier to fall asleep.\n\nMy plan worked. I pictured old Mr. Mathisen reading our letter as he stood in the shadowy protection of the thick woods and chuckling to himself. \"Those darn kids finally lost the football in just the right spot in the bushes, huh?\" He looked up at me and smiled. I tried to wave, but I couldn't raise my arms. My body was already feeling the weight of the blackness that was creeping over me, and it pulled me completely into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.\n\n### Chapter 8\n\n# Roll Film!\n\nWell, I must have slept really well that night because I woke up five minutes before my alarm clock went off, and I felt great. Energized by the thought of what the day might hold regarding Mr. Mathisen, I practically ran through the shower and jumped into my clothes and headed downstairs. I had plenty of time to eat breakfast before I needed to run out and catch the bus at the bus stop just down the street.\n\nSince I wasn't running late for the bus like usual, I got to enjoy a bowl of cereal \"the right way.\" I start with a big bowl of milk and then add my Lucky Charms. Once I've eaten all of the cereal, I add more cereal to the leftover milk. I usually have about three bowls of cereal for one bowl of milk. Then comes the best part: I get to drink the sugary milk still in the bowl, which is now a rainbow of color instead of the boring white stuff.\n\nI tossed my empty bowl and spoon into the sink, grabbed my backpack off the chair next to me, and headed out the door to the bus stop. That morning, something incredibly rare happened at the bus stop. In fact, I don't know if it had ever happened before. AJ and me were early, and Scooter was late.\n\nSince the bus went past AJ's house, he rarely actually made it to the bus stop at all. He was always running out the front door, waving and begging the bus driver to stop. She usually would, even though it wasn't a scheduled stop. Today was different, however, because last night's excitement had apparently woken him up early and refreshed, just like me.\n\nAs amazing as AJ's timeliness was, the more amazing thing was that Scooter was late. The bus stop was at an intersection in our neighborhood, and AJ and me sat silently, watching the two roads, waiting for Scooter to appear on his street, running towards us from one direction and for the school bus rounding the corner and heading towards us from the other.\n\nThe school bus and Scooter came into sight at about the same time. This was bad news for Scooter since the school bus was three blocks away—and so was he.\n\nAs the bus arrived, AJ and me took as long as we reasonably could to get on the bus. Scooter was still a good block away. The bus driver sensed our concern and chimed in. \"Oh, don't worry, boys. I'll wait for Scooter. He's on time every day; it's you two lollygaggers who are always late! I swear, one day you two are going to be walking to school.\"\n\nEmbarrassed, we quickly sat down and waited for Scooter to get on the bus. Scooter was out of breath as he got on the bus and jumped in the seat across from AJ. Seeing the astonished looks on our faces, he must have felt the need to explain himself.\n\n\"I overslept! After you guys left, I decided to set up a camcorder on my window sill and film the blackberries while I was asleep, just in case our friend decided to leave early this morning. But when I went to turn it on, I realized the battery was drained. It took me forever to find the power cord. I didn't get to sleep until almost midnight!\"\n\nNow, midnight is not too crazy of a bedtime for AJ or me. In fact, I probably went to sleep _after_ midnight at least once a week. But Scooter was a different story. He rarely stayed up past 11 p.m.—and only then by the assistance of his little pal, the energy drink. When he did stay up that late, it was not a pretty sight. Scooter inevitably got really silly.\n\nOne time when the three of us went hiking and camping in the Olympic Mountains, we stayed up really late around the campfire, and then we went to our tent and told ghost stories for a few more hours. It was 1:30 when AJ and me decided to pack it in for the night. Scooter, however, wasn't ready to go to sleep yet. So he tried to talk us into a midnight polar bear swim in the nearby lake. I was not about to get out of my warm sleeping bag, but Scoot somehow conned AJ into joining him and both of them went swimming in the dark. Fifteen minutes later, they were back at the tent, shivering and covered with leeches!\n\nThe \"leeches\" turned out to be just wet leaves, but when you are cold, wet, and can't see very well, it is easy to convince yourself that you are going to die from blood-sucking parasites stuck all over your body.\n\nNeedless to say, that experience taught Scooter not to stay up late unless he had to, and it taught AJ and me not to listen to anything Scooter suggested once it was past his bedtime.\n\nRemembering the camping adventure, I wondered if Scooter was even coherent enough at that time of night to actually turn the video camera on. I didn't want to insult him by asking if he remembered, so I asked a roundabout question. \"So what did you see on the videotape when you reviewed it this morning?\"\n\n\"I haven't reviewed it yet. Like I said, I woke up late and only had time to throw some clothes on and grab the camera on the way out.\"\n\nHe pulled the camera out of his backpack and turned it on. \"We can just watch it play backward, since if there is going to be anything or anyone on the tape it will be near the end. I never let the camera rewind, so it's at the end of the tape right now.\"\n\nAs he pressed the play button and then pressed the rewind button, we could see the blackberry bushes as well as the entrance to the tunnel we'd found and a little of the woods outside the \"blackberry door.\" The tape quickly rewound, and the morning played backward toward sunrise. The sky grew darker, but the picture was still pretty clear.\n\nSuddenly, Mr. Mathisen appeared, wearing a blue jacket. He was at the right edge of the screen in the woods and quickly backed up into the blackberry bushes. Because the bushes were so thick, you could see that _something_ was in the bushes but nothing much more than a blue blob. After a few moments, the blue blob was gone. I assumed it was because Mathisen had disappeared into the shelter. Scooter stopped the tape. AJ was the first to speak.\n\n\"Hot dog, Scoot, it worked! Let's watch that going forward.\"\n\nScooter pressed play, and we waited the few anxious seconds for the moment we knew Mr. Mathisen would pop out of the hole.\n\nScooter chimed in, \"Look at the time in the corner—5:30 a.m. That's about fifteen minutes after sunrise and shortly after my dad usually leaves for work each morning. He probably has my family's schedule down pretty well in order to be able to come and go undetected.\"\n\nThen, as expected, the blue blob appeared. AJ started in with the play-by-play. \"Look, there's Mathisen! I bet right now he just found our note! Do you think he's reading it?\"\n\nAfter a stern \"Ahem\" from Scooter and dirty looks from both of us, AJ shut up. We turned back to the small video camera screen.\n\nOn the videotape, Mr. Mathisen slowly headed down the tunnel and then must have taken the right tunnel when they split, because a couple seconds later the blackberries moved and he appeared to the right of them. Then we could see him reclosing the door to the tunnel. _Smart_ , I thought to myself, _the door swings open towards the house to give him just a little added camouflage_.\n\nHe then moved through the woods about ten feet to his right and stood behind a tree. The tree he stood behind was at the far right edge of the screen, and I found myself wishing the film director would pan over to the right a little bit. (It is amazing how much you take for granted when watching movies.) Of course, since the camera had just been sitting on Scooter's window sill all night, that was not going to happen.\n\nSo we watched the half of Mr. Mathisen that we could see as it lingered behind the tree for about thirty seconds. Then, he moved on from the tree to the right and disappeared from the camera's view completely.\n\nScooter was the first to notice. \"Hey, that tree—the one he was standing behind! That was the same tree that he went to when we caught him in the jingle-bell trap. He lingered at that tree for... what, thirty seconds? What was he doing?\"\n\n\"Maybe that's his... uh... restroom,\" AJ suggested. \"I mean, when a man's gotta go, a man's gotta go!\"\n\n\"So when he was caught in the middle of our trap the other night, he couldn't think of anything more important than to do his business right then and there?\" I argued. \"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Well, the other day I thought he was just trying to hide behind the tree because it was the only one remotely big enough to hide behind,\" Scooter said. \"But this morning he had no reason to be hiding.\"\n\nThe bus was now turning into the U-shaped driveway in front of our Junior High. \"So do you think he plans on answering your letter, Scoot?\" AJ asked as we ushered ourselves off the bus.\n\n\"I don't know, Aidge,\" Scooter answered. (\"Aidge\" was our nickname for AJ, where we basically ran the A and the J together into a one-syllable word.) \"But I have a feeling it is going to be a long day in class before we get the chance to find out.\"\n\nIf Scooter only knew how true that statement would be. I thought the school day would never end! Gym class wasn't too bad because we played basketball the whole period. Geometry also flew by because our teacher realized we were a couple lessons behind the other geometry class, so after a brief lecture over two sections in our book, she gave us two homework assignments. I dove in and finished the second assignment right before the dismissal bell rang.\n\nI always try and get my homework done in class if possible. My parents think it's great—they think I am finally living up to my potential to be a great student. The truth is that it has nothing to do with trying to be a good student. I just figure I have two choices while I am in class—waste time talking and goofing off or work on my homework. I choose the second option. That way, when I get home, I can go play with my friends, Scooter and AJ, because I have no homework to do.\n\nMy dad is always saying, \"Work hard. Then you can play harder.\" I guess this is one way to apply it. Sometimes I wish the Keller twins would follow my example. Then we would have two more football players on a regular basis. Instead, their mom is always calling over to Scooter's house and telling them they need to come home and get their homework done before suppertime. How embarrassing: to have your mommy call you out of a football game! Anyway, enough preaching.\n\nWhere was I? Oh yeah, as I was saying, Gym and Math class actually went by pretty quickly, but the other classes seemed to go on forever—especially Biology.\n\nMr. Newell is an older man who probably could have retired five years ago, but he loves kids, loves biology, and loves his nature films. Mr. Newell has a quirky sense of humor and tells at least five or six stale jokes every class period. It's a well-known fact that for the past twenty years, he's just recycled his jokes again every school year. The jokes always keep my attention, though, because I know every so often one of his jokes will stand the test of time and still be funny.\n\nWell, at least two, if not three, times a week, he makes us watch what we students like to call his \"flap-flap\" films. These nature documentaries are twice as old as I am. They're the kind of film that is shown on a reel-to-reel projector. The projector has a full reel with a long strip of film spooled on it in the front and an empty reel in the back, and in between, the film snakes its way through the projector in order to be displayed on the screen in front of the classroom.\n\nWe call these movies \"flap-flap\" films because as the movie ends and the credits roll, Mr. Newell stands up and points out what he thinks we need to remember about the movie. All the while, the projector keeps running. Soon the film completely unrolls from the front reel, makes its way through the projector, and then finishes rolling up onto the back reel. Except that the loose end keeps _flap_ - _flap_ - _flap_ ping as the reel continues to spin, until someone gets up and turns the projector off.\n\nWell, today was a flap-flap day—some documentary about the complexity of single-celled organisms narrated by a guy who was obviously pretty old back when the film was made, and if he were alive today (which is highly unlikely), even he would tell the school to buy an updated film. The temptation was—and always is—to put your head down on your desk, enjoy the dark room and the calming drone of the narration, and just fall asleep. But if you fall asleep in Newell's class, he sneaks up behind you and slaps a yardstick down on your desk right next to your head to wake you up. I've seen him do it several times, and even from across the room, it's pretty loud. I can't imagine waking up from a good nap that way! Needless to say, I've never fallen asleep in Newell's class (although I have come close), and I never intend to.\n\nSo that left me with nothing but my thoughts for forty-five miserable minutes.\n\nI stared blankly at the dancing paramecium on the screen in front of me as my thoughts wandered to the video footage Scooter had showed us on the bus. Was Mr. Mathisen going to respond to Scooter's note? Would he let us meet him? If so, would he be a cranky old man? A lonely old man? If he didn't want to meet us, what should we do now? Perhaps the biggest question: what was so special about that tree that Mr. Mathisen would risk spending time out in the open? Did he really think he was hiding by standing behind it? Or was that just his designated toilet? Did he need an outdoor toilet? Did he have some makeshift toilet in his shelter down in that hole? If that tree was not a toilet, what other explanation could there be for spending time there?\n\nDid he drop something? No, he could not have dropped something twice in the exact same spot, could he? Or maybe he was picking something up? Yes. When he was going into the shelter, he left something behind the tree, and when he came back out, he picked it up again. But what could he possibly have that he didn't want to bring down into that hole with him? Probably something that smells. Well, it appeared that all theories led back to bad odors of one sort or another.\n\nOn the bus ride home from school, AJ, Scooter, and me began comparing our ideas about the video we'd seen on the morning bus ride. Scooter was thinking almost the same thing I was. (Great minds do think alike!) We both figured Mr. Mathisen must be leaving something at that tree before he descended into his shelter every evening—something he could not afford to bring down there with him.\n\nI was thinking it must be something with a strong smell; with what I figured was no ventilation down there, he would gag on the smell by taking it into a confined space like that. Scooter was figuring Mr. Mathisen had something too big to fit down the hole or too bulky to haul up and down the ladder all the time. Both theories sounded possible to me.\n\nWe decided we would check the tree out when we got home. If we detected a lingering smell or an impression left in the dirt by something big, then perhaps one of our theories was correct. If there was nothing, then we were back to scratching our heads.\n\n### Chapter 9\n\n# Stop and Smell the Trees\n\nAs the bus entered our neighborhood, my heart felt like it was fighting to pound its way out of my chest. I was so excited and anxious that I felt like I could get out and run faster than the bus, which meandered its way towards our bus stop.\n\nNormally, I would head to my house, drop off my backpack in my bedroom, and grab a piece of fruit off the kitchen counter before rushing on over to Scooter's house for some afternoon football or computer games. But not today! As soon as the bus doors opened—actually, slightly before they were completely open—the three of us squeezed out the door and started sprinting towards Scooter's house as fast as we could with our heavy backpacks swinging back and forth behind us.\n\nWe didn't even go inside when we reached Scooter's house, we just ran around to the backyard, dumped our backpacks on the back porch, and bolted across our football lawn toward the tree that clearly had Mr. Mathisen's attention. And now it had ours.\n\nAs is usually the case when any race is involved, AJ was the first one there. And by the time Scooter and me came around to the backside of the tree, AJ was already on all fours with his nose just inches from the ground. He looked like a hunting dog sniffing around looking for a scent. After a few seconds, he stood back up and declared, \"Well, guys, I don't smell anything out of the ordinary!\"\n\n\"So it doesn't smell any different than all the other trees you've sniffed?\" I joked.\n\nAJ chuckled, \"No, I mean, I don't smell any strong odors. You know, like cleaning supplies or other stuff that would make you sick if you weren't out in the fresh air. And it doesn't smell like he was using this tree as his bathroom, either.\"\n\n\"Hopefully, you verified that before you stuck your nose that close to the ground,\" Scooter teased. That got a laugh from all three of us.\n\n\"Let's keep looking around,\" he continued. \"If my theory is correct and he is leaving something fairly large here every night, then we might see an imprint in the dirt, or maybe a scrape on the tree, or a spot on the ground that has been shielded from the rain more than the ground around it.\"\n\nScooter and me got on our hands and knees to get a closer look at potential clues. Meanwhile, AJ just stood, staring at the tree. Suddenly, he said, \"Guys, we were wrong. Mathisen wasn't leaving something out here when he came to the shelter; he was leaving something here when he _left_ the shelter, and picking it up before he went back inside.\"\n\nI looked up. \"AJ, what are you talking about?\"\n\nScooter said, \"If that were the case, then this big object we're looking for would be here right now.\"\n\n\"I never claimed it was big. But you're right about it being here. Look!\" AJ exclaimed, pointing at the tree trunk right in front of him.\n\nScooter and me scrambled to our feet to look where AJ was pointing. Sure enough, hanging on a nail in the tree was a dull silver key!\n\n\"Oh my goodness, Aidge! Do you know what this means?\" Scooter shouted. \"Mr. Mathisen must hang the key here to make sure he doesn't lose it while he tromps through the woods.\"\n\n\"It also means he isn't home right now, so come on!\" AJ grabbed the key and headed for the blackberries.\n\nScooter stopped him with a shout. \"Wait, AJ! We can't all just dive down that ladder. What if Mathisen comes back while we're down there?\"\n\nHe had a good point. I could just imagine Mr. Mathisen coming up behind us after we went down the ladder, slamming the lid shut, and sitting on it until we ran out of air to breathe. It would be like being buried alive! I am not a complete claustrophobic, but sometimes my imagination can scare me more than reality can. Anyway, the thought made me shudder. So while I was getting the heebie-jeebies, AJ made his way back to us and the tree.\n\n\"So what are we going to do, then?\" he asked.\n\n\"Well, one of us will have to stay here and be lookout while the other two go check out the shelter,\" said Scooter.\n\n\"One-two-three-not-it!\" I shouted.\n\n\"Not it!\" AJ followed.\n\n\"No, no, let's do this fair and square,\" Scooter countered.\n\nI wasn't sure if Scoot really wanted it to be fair or if he was just making up rules, since he clearly just lost the \"Not It!\" game. That's sort of like when you make up stories about getting car-sick unless you sit in the front seat, when you clearly just forgot to call \"Shotgun!\" before someone else did.\n\nScooter continued, \"I know how we can decide this fairly. I have forty cents in my pocket left over from buying a soda at lunch today—a nickel, a dime, and a quarter. I will put one coin in my left hand and one in my right, and the last one will stay in my pocket. We will all choose a coin, and whoever picks the quarter will have to stay behind and be lookout. Will that work? Good. I'll pick first.\"\n\n\"You can't go first!\" AJ argued. \"You're the one who's putting the coins there in the first place, so you would know which place not to pick. No sir, I'll go first! Cheating lard-monkey!\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Scooter said, looking dejected. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two of the coins and quickly put one in each hand. He then held both hands out in front of AJ. \"Left, Right, or Pocket?\"\n\nAJ took a second and then slapped the back of Scooter's left hand really hard. Scooter yelped and then turned his hand over to reveal the quarter. He tossed it at AJ. \"Nice guess, wise guy. And by the way, you hit like a girl.\"\n\n_Yeah_ , I thought, _a really strong girl_. I could see the red mark on Scooter's hand.\n\nScooter grabbed the key from AJ and started to walk away. He turned back to AJ and taunted him once more. \"Hey, while you are on lookout, try not to look like it. Act like you are doing something else like, uh, doing push-ups or pull-ups on a tree branch or something. We don't want to raise any suspicion if Mathisen comes back soon; we just want him to decide the coast isn't clear and he will have to come back later.\"\n\nScooter started walking again, and as I hurried to catch up to him, I could hear AJ complaining. \"Shoot! I knew I should have picked the right hand!\"\n\nScooter muttered under his breath, just loud enough for my benefit, \"That would not have done any good.\" He smirked and opened his right hand to reveal another quarter.\n\n\"Dude, that is wrong,\" I chuckled.\n\n\"Not nearly as wrong as this.\" He snickered as he pulled yet another quarter out of his pocket. \"I actually had seventy-five cents in my pocket! He was going to lose no matter what he chose.\"\n\nI made a mental note to never mess with Scooter—unless, of course, I could frame AJ.\n\nWe opened the \"blackberry door\" and crouched our way through the tunnel until we were huddled over the metal plate. Then, Scooter stopped me. \"So remember, don't touch anything more than we have to, and definitely don't move anything. We don't want Mathisen to even know we were here.\"\n\nI nodded and opened the lid.\n\nAs we both stood above the hole, I realized we had overlooked a big necessity, a flashlight. We could barely see the bottom of the ladder from up above, and once we opened the door with the key, it would be even harder to see because there would be no light coming from directly above. I suggested to Scooter that we get a flashlight.\n\nHe shrugged me off. \"We don't have time. Mr. Mathisen could be coming back any minute, so we will just have to make do.\"\n\nWe scrambled down the ladder, and while Scooter worked the key into the vault door, I imagined us feeling our way through the dark, bumping into things, kicking things we couldn't see on the other side of the door. So much for leaving things exactly the way they were!\n\nAs Scooter turned the key, he looked back at me and smiled. He pushed down on the lever, took a deep breath, and said, \"Here we go...\" as he pulled the large door toward us.\n\n### Chapter 10\n\n# Behind the Door\n\nAs the door inched open, the most unexpected thing happened: I was blinded by light. After closing my eyes and letting them adjust, I realized it wasn't really that much light. With the combination of my eyes being adjusted to the darker ladder room and my expectation of pitch black on the other side of the door, me and my eyes were quite shocked.\n\nThe light was coming from a set of two long fluorescent bulbs locked in a cage-like fixture on the ceiling. The lights lit up one huge room. And when I say huge, I only mean to say it was a lot bigger than I expected. I imagined a small six-foot by six-foot cell with a sleeping bag on the floor. What I found was a lot larger—a room about fifteen feet wide and almost twenty feet deep. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of smooth cement, similar to the room with the ladder.\n\nDirectly in front of us was one of those futon thingies—you know, where the wood frame folds into a couch or a bed and you just toss the bendable mattress on top. The bright red mattress was currently bent in an L-shape to form what looked like a comfy couch. I assumed the futon was folded into the couch position not because the owner was expecting company but out of necessity, to save space. A bright blue chair sat just beyond the couch and appeared to be the other part of a furniture set with the couch.\n\nA small, round table about two feet wide sat next to the chair. On top sat a shoebox and another open box, which, judging by the needles and thread struggling to free themselves, I guessed was some sort of sewing kit. Under the couch were some folded bedsheets, which made sense because the couch would also have to serve as the bed.\n\nAcross from the couch on the far right wall was a small kitchen area. A counter with a sink held a small toaster oven, two glass plates, and two plastic cups—the kind they give little kids at fancy restaurants and sometimes fill with broken crayons. Up against the far wall was a toilet with half a roll of toilet paper sitting on the lid. (Well, that answered one question.)\n\nScooter and me stood in the doorway in utter amazement at everything we were looking at, but none of this was as shocking as what stood in the corner between the kitchen counter and the toilet—a full-size refrigerator!\n\n\"That must have been put in when whoever it was built this shelter,\" Scooter thought out loud. He must have been asking the same thing I was.\n\nEverything else we had seen, I could envision how they could get it through the manhole, down the ladder, and into the room. The futon and chair looked like you could construct the wood frame at home using an assembly kit, and the mattress could be rolled up and stuffed down the hole. The toaster oven and dishes could easily be brought down the ladder tucked under an arm. But the fridge? There was no other way to explain it except that it had been down here as long as the shelter had.\n\nAs I stepped past the doorway and into the room, I turned to my right to find a small bookcase. On top of the bookcase sat a corded phone, which plugged into a phone jack located near the floor. A small picture frame stood next to the phone. On the middle shelf were cans of vegetables and fruit and a serving bowl containing a bag of dinner rolls. On the bottom shelf were a pair of scissors and lots of coupons cut out of the newspaper. Next to the bookshelf sat a large stack of newspapers—probably leftovers from coupon-cutting.\n\nAlthough the room looked like a cozy little home, there was nothing really personal about it except for the picture on the bookshelf. I stepped closer to get a better look. It was a picture of two guys and a girl standing on the steps of an old, traditional-looking church. Based on the style of clothing, it was pretty clear the picture was at least twenty years old. The woman in the white dress and the man wearing a tuxedo to her right were obviously the bride and groom. This picture had probably been taken after the ceremonies, since they were holding up their hands to show their wedding rings. The man to the woman's left must have been a close family member by the way they were comfortable standing so close together, but he could not be part of the wedding party since he was not dressed nearly as formally as the bride and groom.\n\nI turned to Scooter and pointed at the picture. \"You know, I have only seen the one picture of Mr. Mathisen, but I'm guessing this is him, maybe twenty years ago.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" he said. \"I watched the video again during second period, and I am pretty sure this guy here is Mr. Mathisen in his forties. I bet this was his sister's wedding. But what I am more interested in is this phone!\"\n\nHe picked up the phone, and in the silence of the room, even I could hear the dial tone. Our eyes got really big. A working phone? How was that possible? Scooter started dialing.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I asked hysterically.\n\nScooter hushed me with his finger and said \"trust me\" with his eyes. Someone on the other end picked up.\n\n\"Oh hey, Mom!... Yeah, I'm fine. Just working on a science experiment out in the woods. It's a walkie-talkie that with a couple of modifications I've turned into a short-range cell phone! Pretty cool, huh?... What do you mean? Most of my experiments _do_ work!... Well, the robotic blender was the exception, Mom! Anyway, I'll be there in a minute... Yeah, sorry about that. We were in a hurry to try this thing out... Yes, next time we will come inside and say hi and not just leave our bags on the back porch... Yeah... Sorry, Mom.\" He hung up.\n\n\"Well, this phone really does work. Now to see if we can find the phone number that belongs to it.\"\n\nHe headed toward the door. \"I'm going to go inside now and check the caller ID on our house phone. Then, I will call you. You just pick up, but don't say anything until I do; you know, just in case someone besides me calls in the next five minutes.\" With that, he was out the door and up the ladder.\n\nAs I looked around the room and waited, I began to wonder just what it would be like to live in this small room for who knows how long. Always worrying about being seen, always wondering what might be waiting for you when you lift the lid each morning, always wishing the toilet was more than four feet from the refrigerator...\n\nI was startled out of my daydream by a quiet chirping sound. My back was to the bookshelf, and for a moment, I thought perhaps a small bird had wandered into the shelter. Oh no! How would we catch this thing without leaving any trace of our visit—or the bird! But as I turned around, I realized it was the ringing of the telephone. It was a strange ring and a lot quieter than what I was expecting. But in hindsight, it made sense, because you don't want any noise being heard outside the shelter and you don't want to give yourself a heart attack while cutting coupons.\n\nI picked up the phone and Scooter started talking, \"Hey, Ty.\"\n\n\"Hey, it sounds like you got the right number, Scoot!\" I said.\n\n\"It looks like our little walkie-talkie can receive calls as well! Sweet! What do ya think, huh?\"\n\n\"I say, 'Ten-four, good buddy!'\"\n\nHe laughed and then hung up. After what seemed like only seconds, Scooter was back in the hole, standing next to me.\n\n\"Well, Mathisen's phone number comes up on our caller ID, so we have that now. And luckily it says 'Unavailable.' Otherwise, I would have had a lot of explaining to do if Mom or Dad saw that someone named Mathisen had called us. All right, let's get out of here,\" he said, scanning the room to see if we had moved anything.\n\nI exited, and after being satisfied we hadn't disturbed anything, Scooter followed and shut the door behind us. He went to lock the door but realized that the door automatically locked itself. We both started climbing the ladder, and Scooter spoke up, \"He has to have a spare key somewhere, Tyler; otherwise, if he leaves the shelter and forgets his key, that would be a really, really bad day.\"\n\nAfter Scooter scrambled out, I gently shut the lid, and we hurried back toward a very impatient AJ.\n\n\"Well, what did you find?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"You are not going to believe it!\" Scooter exclaimed as he hung the key back on the nail in the big tree. He turned and headed straight toward the house with AJ and me right behind him.\n\nOnce we were up in Scooter's bedroom with the door safely shut behind us, AJ began rattling off questions faster than Scooter or I could \"not really\" answer them. It was really too easy to get him riled up.\n\n\"So, Scoot, do you think Mathisen uses that rifle to hunt with or to protect himself?\" I asked.\n\nAJ, startled, asked, \"He had a gun down there? What else was down there?\"\n\n\"Well, with that stench down there, it's no wonder Mathisen is always outside, despite the risk of being seen,\" Scooter said. \"I would be, too, if I had to be around all those rotting animals.\"\n\n\"No doubt!\" I added.\n\n\"What animals? Did he kill them? Did it look like they were for eating? C'mon, guys, tell me!\" AJ pleaded.\n\nAfter about five minutes of this, Scooter finally decided to stop yanking his chain and told AJ all that we had found on the other side of the locked door.\n\n\"So I guess it was a bomb shelter that Mr. Mathisen must have stumbled upon some time ago, and he turned it into a cozy, secret place to live,\" Scooter finished.\n\n\"This housing development went up almost twenty years ago,\" I added. \"I bet whoever built your house also built the bomb shelter 'cause they were still scared the Russians would be dropping bombs on us some day.\"\n\nOur History teacher had explained that once upon a time the U.S. and Russia were on the brink of going to war, and many people believed that if Russia were going to drop a big bomb someplace in America, it would be the Seattle area. After all, being so close to Russia, a missile wouldn't have to travel very far, and with so many military bases in the area, they could deal a huge blow to our armed forces.\n\n\"You're probably right, Tyler. That seems to be the most logical explanation,\" Scooter mused, looking up at the ceiling.\n\nAJ, always the \"man of action\" among us, had to chime in. \"So what do we do now? You have his phone number, right? Should we wait till after dark and then call him?\"\n\n\"I don't know, Aidge,\" Scooter said. \"We haven't given him much time to respond to our note. Let's give him another day and see if he leaves us a note.\"\n\nI chuckled as I realized Scooter's point. In all our excitement of catching Mr. Mathisen on film and finding the key, we had lost track of time. It was only this morning that he had read our note as he came out of the hole. At the earliest, he would be leaving us a note tomorrow. At the earliest.\n\nThe rest of the evening was uneventful (in comparison at least). We half-heartedly played some \"World Dominator\" on Scoot's computer and then headed to our respective houses for dinner.\n\nWell, actually, when I got home, there was a little excitement for me, but not the fun kind. My mother was pretty upset that I had failed to check in with her after school. Personally, I didn't see what the big deal was, but maybe I shouldn't have actually told her that.\n\nThen, she was mad at me for not checking in _and_ being a smart mouth. By the time dinner was over, though, she was much calmer. And after doing all the dishes and cleaning the kitchen floor as punishment, everything was forgiven.\n\n### Chapter 11\n\n# Have You Seen This Man?\n\nThe next morning, Scooter was back to his normal arrival time at the bus stop. In fact, he was waiting, impatient with excitement, as AJ and me approached. I could tell he was excited because whenever Scooter gets excited (which is pretty rare), he gets \"happy feet\"—his feet never touch the ground at the same time. He looks like a four-year-old who needs to use the bathroom.\n\n\"Hey, Scooty-wooty, do you need to use the potty?\" I joked as we joined him at the bus stop.\n\n\"Ha, ha. Shut up and listen,\" Scooter said abruptly, pulling an envelope out of his backpack. He held it up so we could see it but not read what was written on it.\n\n\"So after you guys left last night, my dad came home, and he was a little irritated because he had gotten yet another piece of mail addressed to our friend Mr. Mathisen.\" He brought the envelope down so we could read the outside of it. It was a phone bill addressed to Stanley Mathisen with Scooter's address on it. It was still sealed.\n\n\"You mean you haven't opened it yet?\" I asked. \"It might hold more clues about who this guy really is. Maybe he calls some of the same people all the time, and that could tell us how he spends all his spare time.\"\n\n\"I don't think I should open this, Ty; it's not my mail.\"\n\n\"Let me get this straight: You think it's wrong to open an old man's mail, but it's OK to break into his house?\" I asked, amused at the double standard.\n\n\"Well, technically, I did _not_ break into his house; _he_ was sleeping on _my_ property! Anyway, I just don't feel right about opening this guy's mail now that I know he's just trying to live his life and not bother my family.\"\n\n\"Then why the Happy Feet?\" AJ joked. \"Why are you so excited about a stupid letter if we can't even open it?\"\n\n\"Look in the address window. Do you see what color paper is inside?\" Scooter asked with a smirk and that twinkle in his eye.\n\n\"Pink,\" AJ answered. \"What does that mean?\"\n\n\"Well pink _usually_ means you are late paying a bill. So it appears that Mr. Mathisen is behind on his phone bill payments.\"\n\nI tried to chime in and keep Scooter from drawing out the conversation, \"And this gets you excited because...?\"\n\n\"Because this gives us another 'in' with Mathisen. If we don't hear from him in a couple days, then maybe we suggest to him that we could deliver his mail directly to his front porch for him. You know, another way that we can build his trust. He should definitely go for it; it eliminates his risk of being seen at our mailbox again.\"\n\n\"That's a decent idea. Not one worth dancing around like you have to use the bathroom, but still pretty decent,\" I teased. \"So are we back to waiting for Mathisen to reply to our letter again?\" I looked up to see our bus heading down the street towards us.\n\n\"That is still the plan,\" Scooter replied.\n\n\"That's what I thought you'd say,\" AJ muttered as the three of us piled on the bus.\n\nAJ and me are similar in that neither of us have ever been very good at waiting. What we didn't know at the time was that we wouldn't have to wait for long.\n\nSchool went by without much excitement, except for the fact that I was on fire during the lunchtime basketball game. I only missed one shot the entire time! This made the second half of the school day fly by because all I could do was replay all those beautiful shots over and over in my head. It is games like that which make a guy keep coming back to the basketball court. You never know, it could happen again!\n\nAfter school, we tossed the football around in Scooter's backyard for a while and then decided that if we ever wanted Mathisen to come out of hiding, we should probably not be around to spook him. So we went inside the Parks' garage and watched as Scooter went back to work on an invention he'd been tinkering with a few days before all this excitement started.\n\nHe was building a long-distance light switch. I thought the idea was brilliant. It would be really useful. I mean, don't you just hate it when you get in bed with a good book and get all comfortable and then you decide it's time to go to sleep, but the light is still on and the switch is all the way across the room? When that happens to me, I end up throwing any article of clothing that happens to be near me at the light switch in hopes that I'll hit the switch just right and it will turn off. Well, that rarely works, and I always have a bunch of clothes scattered on the floor in the morning. Scooter's contraption was going to have much better results.\n\nHe took an old remote-control car he had gotten many Christmases ago and removed the gears attached to the rear tires. The remote control still worked, so even though the gear was not in the car anymore, if he pushed the lever down on the remote control, the gear would start spinning. His plan was to attach the gear to the light switch panel and tie a string to the gear and to the light switch itself. Then, when he pushed the remote control lever, the gear would start spinning, the string would wind up on the gear, and it would pull the light switch down. Poof! No more lights!\n\nWe were testing this new invention out on the light switch in the garage so that if Scooter needed any tools to \"tweak\" things, they would be nearby.\n\nWe messed around in the garage for about an hour, and then I headed home for supper. We had tuna fish casserole. Oh, it's better than you might think—especially when mom puts crushed potato chips or chow mien noodles on top. Really, anything crunchy usually does the trick. My dad even tried it once with corn flakes (without the milk, of course).\n\nWe were just finishing dinner when the house phone rang. Sis answered but quickly gave the phone to me; it was Scooter on the line.\n\n\"Hey, Tyler, what are you up to? Are you eating dinner?\"\n\n\"No, just finished. What's up?\"\n\n\"Be outside in five minutes; we're headed to the grocery store!\"\n\n\"Why? What's going on, Scoot?\" I asked, but the line went dead: he had already hung up.\n\nI grabbed my jacket. \"Uh, Mom, I gotta go to the grocery store with Scooter. I'll be back soon.\"\n\n\"Uh, OK...\" She gave me a puzzled look. \"Do I bother to ask why?\"\n\nShe had learned it typically wasn't a good idea to ask \"why\" when it involved Scooter. If Scooter was involved, then a \"just trust me\" usually worked fine. Scooter enjoyed being vague on purpose—and it could be aggravating sometimes—but he had earned the right to be, because he always provided a good reason after the fact.\n\n\"I honestly have no clue why,\" I answered.\n\n\"I figured as much. Just don't be stupid, and be home by nine.\"\n\n\"Nine, mom?\" I was taken aback. \"We're just going to the grocery store; it shouldn't take _that_ long!\"\n\n\"You are only _planning_ on going to the store. We'll see what happens. As long as you're being safe, I don't really care; just be home by nine o'clock.\"\n\n\"OK, Mom,\" I replied as I ran out the door.\n\nI was expecting to see the Parks' maroon minivan pulling into the driveway when I got outside, but instead a bright red Camaro with a sorry excuse for a muffler was rumbling down the street and slowing in front of my house. I recognized the car right away. It belonged to Jimmy Langsworth, Scooter's next-door neighbor.\n\nJimmy was a senior in high school, and he spent every waking moment he wasn't in school working on that car. Tinkering under the hood, washing and waxing the body, and polishing the rims were all part of his obsession—I mean, _hobby_. I imagined that Scooter must have needed to go to the grocery store for something, ran into Jimmy working on his car in the driveway, and mentioned he needed a lift into town. Jimmy, of course, said yes. He was not one to miss _any_ opportunity to drive around and show off his ride.\n\nAs I walked toward the Camaro, AJ came flying out of the shadows on his bicycle and flew past the car and into my driveway, where he jumped off the bike while it was still moving and ran to meet me at Jimmy's car.\n\nWhen I opened the door, I noticed that Scooter was already in the back seat. I looked toward Jimmy, and he stuck his chin forward and gave me the silent nod hello. Jimmy was never much of a conversationalist. Since the much taller AJ was also coming, I knew my place was in the back seat with Scooter so AJ could ride shotgun with those long legs of his.\n\nOnce we pulled away from the house and Jimmy's muffler stopped screaming at the neighborhood dogs, AJ spoke up. \"So why all the mystery, Scoot? Why are we headed to the grocery store, of all places?\"\n\n\"Well, this is all based on a really big hunch, but this trip should prove to be worth it.\" He was grinning from ear to ear and loving the fact that he knew what was going on and we didn't. He shot a quick glance toward Jimmy in the driver's seat and then went on, \"I will fill you in completely when we get there.\"\n\nI took that as my cue to be quiet, and so did AJ. So for the remaining ten-minute ride, we just listened to the hip-hop bellowing from the Camaro's stereo. Jimmy was more than happy to turn it up and show off the limits of his speakers.\n\nThe Camaro pulled up to the entrance of the Bag 'N' Save, and AJ grunted a \"Thank you\" as he opened the door and pulled himself out of the front seat and into the crosswalk in front of the store. Scooter and me piled out of the back seat to join him.\n\nOn the other side of the parking lot were several high-schoolers leaning against their fancy cars. Jimmy said he was going to head over to show off his Camaro while we did our thing in the grocery store. Scooter said that would be great and that we would just walk over there when we were finished.\n\nAfter Jimmy drove off, Scooter began his story. \"So after dinner, my dad was sitting down reading the paper like he always does. And you know how he likes to read the obituaries out loud?\"\n\n\"Yeah, sort of twisted,\" I snorted, amused.\n\n\"Yes, it is. But it can be funny sometimes. Anyway, he starts reading about this elderly guy named 'Pete' who had a fatal heart attack at the downtown Bag 'N' Save. He fell down right in the middle of the produce section. Apparently, this 'Pete' guy is in the grocery store almost every day and hangs out for a couple of hours. He knows everybody in the place, and he even tries to help out sometimes—straightening up shelves and stuff like that.\n\n\"Well, after he died, they pulled out his wallet to see what 'Pete's' full name is, and he had no ID, just some cash and a used bus ticket to San Francisco. So the newspaper is looking for help identifying this guy and locating family. And get this—here is the description they gave: 'A white male about 5' 10\", in his 60's, wearing a blue windbreaker, with no jewelry except for a silver key attached to a purple shoelace, which normally hangs around his neck but was not on his person when he died.'\"\n\nAJ spoke up, \"So I don't get it! What does that newspaper article have to do with us?\"\n\nScooter, in his usual cryptic fashion, said, \"I think we may be able to help the newspaper out.\"\n\n\"Uh, Scoot, you are not suggesting that this old guy at the grocery store is Mr. Mathisen, are you?\" I asked.\n\n\"I am,\" Scooter said, getting more excited every second. (His \"happy feet\" started again.)\n\n\"Think about it, guys! He hangs around a grocery store all day. Wouldn't you, rather than being cooped up in that shelter all the time? He was wearing a blue windbreaker when he died. Didn't we see Mr. Mathisen wearing a blue jacket?\"\n\n\"We saw a glimpse of him from across the yard through the lens of a video camera,\" I said. \"I don't think you can definitely say that was a blue windbreaker. Besides, this is Washington! At least half the state owns a blue windbreaker!\"\n\n\"Well, what about the key around his neck?\" Scooter countered. \"Remember how the shelter door locked by itself when it closed? I bet you Mr. Mathisen keeps that key around his neck all the time to make sure he never loses it...\n\n\"It wasn't on him when he died... and that's why he was using the spare key that we found to get in the other day!\"\n\n\"Well, maybe,\" I replied. \"It's a theory, at best.\"\n\n\"But the guy's name is Pete!\" AJ chimed in. \"Er, well, it was Pete... 'cause he's dead. Well, I guess it still would be Pete. Or would it? I don't know!\"\n\n\"What's your point?\" I interrupted. I didn't want AJ to lose an argument with himself!\n\n\"The point is that Mathisen's first name started with an S. Steven or Sammy or something.\"\n\n\"Sammy? Really? You think an old guy's name is Sammy?\" I laughed.\n\n\"He's actually pretty close,\" Scooter defended. \"His name is Stanley. Stanley P. Mathisen. And I bet you Jimmy's gas money that the P stands for Peter!\"\n\n\"So what's your big plan, Scoot? What do you expect to find inside that is going to prove your little theory? Ask the little old checkout lady if her friend Pete ever smelled a lot like blackberries?\" I chuckled as I turned to walk inside.\n\n\"Actually, I plan on showing her this picture.\"\n\nI stopped in my tracks as he pulled a picture frame out of his pocket. I looked down at the picture he was holding out—it was the picture Scooter and me had seen on the bookcase in the underground shelter.\n\n\"Did you—No! You didn't!\" I stammered.\n\n\"Did he what?\" AJ asked, trying to figure out what was in Scooter's hand. (Scooter was facing me, so AJ couldn't see the picture.)\n\n\"I cannot believe you went back down there by yourself! What if Mathisen was in there?\"\n\n\"I knocked first!\" he said.\n\n\"Knocked where?\" AJ begged again.\n\nScooter went on ignoring AJ. \"Besides, I had a hunch, remember?\"\n\n\"So I heard,\" I muttered.\n\n\"C'mon, guys, throw me a bone here! What did Scooter do?\" AJ pushed us apart in order to catch a glimpse of what Scooter was holding.\n\nFinally Scooter ended AJ's misery. \"When Tyler and I were in the shelter, we saw this picture on the bookcase.\" He handed the picture frame to AJ. \"We believe it's a picture of Mathisen at some wedding, perhaps his sister's.\n\n\"Anyway, when I heard about this old guy having a heart attack at the grocery store, I thought we could ask someone at the store if they recognize him. So tonight I got the key, went down to the shelter, and borrowed this picture. I would have just used the picture that Mr. Hull sent Tyler, but my printer is just black and white, so it wouldn't have been the best quality. So I went down and got this one instead.\"\n\n\"Yeah, by yourself!\" I complained. OK, I admit I was probably jealous that I missed out on the fun of going down that ladder again more than I was worried about Scooter's safety.\n\n\"Well, he did what he did, but we're already here, so let's go ask!\" AJ said excitedly as he turned toward the sliding glass doors of the grocery store.\n\nAs Scooter and me began to follow him, Scooter instructed us, \"Now when we get inside, I will do all the talking. No one else, OK? I've been thinking this through, and we definitely don't want them asking questions after we ask ours.\"\n\nThe store was fairly deserted now that the get-the-last-ingredient-for-dinner crowd had come and gone. Only two check stands were open. One was manned (or is it womanned?) by a teenage girl named Sarah. It was clear by her perfectly ironed uniform and the multiple stars on her name badge that she was a model employee. I was sure she would know all about \"Pete.\"\n\nThe other cashier was a woman in her mid-to-late forties with graying blond hair. Her name badge said Gloria and proudly announced she had been serving for twenty-five years. She looked like it, too.\n\nI figured either of these diligent employees would know who Pete was and could answer Scoot's questions, but Scooter walked right past the checkouts and ducked down the Breakfast aisle.\n\n\"What's the matter, Scooter, girl problems?\" I joked.\n\n\"Those two cashiers are the sort of people we _don't_ want to talk to,\" he said. \"They may have an answer for us, but then they are going to feel obligated to find out why we're asking, get our names, and turn them over to the boss. Those are complications we don't need.\"\n\nHe started walking, but then stopped and explained further. \"What we need is to find a stockboy or someone who is going to be annoyed at our questions and will just answer so we will go away.\"\n\nHe turned and continued walking toward the back of the store. At the end of the aisle, we spotted an older boy in a rubber apron standing in front of the seafood department. He was spraying down the displays that earlier that evening had held the store's \"Catch of the Day.\" He looked to be about high-school age, and the scowl on his face told me he would rather be doing _homework_ than washing away putrid fish smells. Perfect.\n\nAJ and me hung back while Scooter approached the boy. \"Excuse me, dude, er, Sir. I was wondering if you recognize this man here.\" He held the picture out to the boy. The boy stopped spraying with the hose and pointed at the frame with a gloved hand.\n\n\"Uh, yeah, that's Pete. He croaked a couple days ago over in produce. Poor guy, he was probably too upset over losing his Purple Heart.\"\n\n\"Purple Heart?\" Scooter asked. \"Was he a war hero?\"\n\n\"Uh, no. He had this really shiny key always hanging around his neck on a fat purple shoelace. I called it his Purple Heart because when he walked in the store, it looked like he was wearing a medal. Anyway, he lost the key a few days ago, and he was pretty upset. The sad thing is, we found the key the day after he died. It was hanging on a hook on one of the bathroom stall doors. Turned it over to the police, but I don't know what they're going to do with it.\"\n\nI thought to myself, _Scooter's right. As usual_. It now made sense: for the past couple days, Mathisen had to use the backup key hanging from the tree because he lost the primary key at the grocery store.\n\n\"I see,\" Scooter replied. \"Sounds like you knew him pretty well, then. It must be hard.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you could say that. Tragic too, man. He used to come and talk to me all the time, made the work go by faster, you know? Say, where did you get that picture, anyway? Who are you?\"\n\n\"Oh, Pete's my neighbor,\" Scooter said, smooth as butter. \"He said he was going to be gone for a couple days, and he asked me to feed his fish for him while he was gone. Well, that was a week ago, so I was starting to get worried. Then, I saw the newspaper article saying a guy matching his description had died here, and I just had a hunch it was Pete.\"\n\nScooter would usually choke up under this sort of pressure, but apparently he had lots of time to rehearse the conversation in his head, so he did fine.\n\n\"Well, I guess I should let the boss know that you guys know who Pete really is.\"\n\n\"No, please don't,\" Scooter said. \"I don't want his family to first hear about his death from some grocery store manager. They should hear it from a friend.\" He pointed to himself.\n\n\"I will call the family tomorrow and have them call your manager to work out any arrangements and find where they took the body... I mean, Pete.\"\n\nAs hoped and predicted, the boy was relieved. \"Fine by me, I am just glad someone knew who he really was. I thought the dude had no other friends but us here at the store... Well, tell his family I'm sorry for their loss... or whatever it is you're supposed to say about these things.\"\n\nHe turned his attention back to the hose and started spraying again. Instead of walking back over to us, Scooter turned and walked back down the nearest aisle. I assume he did not want to be seen with us since that would not really fit into the story he had just told the fish-kid. AJ and me walked back down the breakfast aisle and met up with him at the front of the store.\n\nI think all of us were feeling sort of sad about the fact that Mr. Mathisen had no friends except at the grocery store. And I had sort of hoped our letter to him might begin some sort of friendship between him and us three boys. But none of that was going to happen now. It was clear everyone was having similar thoughts because no one spoke for the entire ride home.\n\nJimmy pulled into his driveway and wished us all good luck as we piled out of the Camaro.\n\nAJ finally broke the silence. \"So what do we do now? You said you would talk to the family; we don't even know if he has any family!\"\n\n\"Well, I guess we have to go see if we can find one,\" Scooter replied.\n\n\"You want to invent a family for this guy? That's messed up!\" AJ exclaimed.\n\n\"No, Stupid. I am saying we go find his _real_ family. I say we head down to his room and see what we might discover about his family. He must have family somewhere; he at least has a sister or something.\" He held up the picture once again and pointed at the woman in the wedding dress.\n\n\"Well, I'm up for that!\" AJ said. He was excited to see the inside of the bomb shelter for the first time.\n\nMe? I was not quite as excited. I had already seen it, and now that Mr. Mathisen was dead, the thought of rummaging through some dead guy's stuff creeped me out and saddened me at the same time.\n\nIt was now 7:30 p.m., so I knew I had an hour and a half before my curfew. AJ and Scooter probably had a little longer. AJ's parents were out at social functions almost every night of the week and wouldn't even know when AJ came home. And as I said before, Scooter was not a late-night person, and normally he would put himself to bed long before his parents would force him to.\n\nThe three of us ran down the strip of grass between Jimmy's house and Scooter's and then clambered up onto the back porch. The back porch light was on, and it illuminated much of the backyard. But neither the porch light nor the fleeting daylight was really penetrating the woods, and Scooter thought we would need more light to find the key as well as to see once we went down the ladder. He went inside the back door while AJ and me sat down in the two lawn chairs and waited.\n\nScooter came out a minute later, wearing a windbreaker and carrying two flashlights. I looked at him as if to ask, \"Well, did you say anything to your family?\"\n\nScooter read my face correctly. He spoke up as we started across the lawn. \"They were all sitting down watching TV, so I just hollered 'I'll be outside' and didn't wait around for questions.\"\n\nAJ grabbed one flashlight and ran off to get the key hanging from the tree while Scooter and me searched for the hidden entrance to the blackberries. When we got to the metal lid, I lifted the lid and Scooter shone the flashlight down in the hole for me to descend the ladder first. Honestly, I knew Mr. Mathisen could not have been there since the time Scooter and me had, but that didn't keep the hairs on the back of my neck from tingling as if we were walking into some sort of a trap.\n\nScooter handed the flashlight down to me and then climbed down as well. While we waited for AJ to show up with the key, I waved the flashlight around the walls to see if there was anything we'd missed the last time we were down in the hole. Nothing. I also shone the light on the floor, which revealed our note in a crumpled ball. So he did find the note! Poor Mr. Mathisen never got a chance to respond to it. Scooter picked it up and sadly stuffed it in his jacket pocket.\n\nAJ showed up with the key and started descending the ladder until Scooter reminded him to shut the lid so light wouldn't shine everywhere outside. So AJ went back up, closed the lid, and then climbed back down. AJ tried to hand the key to Scooter, but Scooter insisted that since AJ missed the first visit behind the locked door, he had earned the right to go first this time. AJ didn't argue and quickly went over, put the key in the door, and pulled the lever down.\n\nI wish I had brought a video camera. I would have loved to capture the look on AJ's face as he took in everything he saw inside the shelter. He must have stood in the doorway for two whole minutes, his jaw wide open, his eyes, as big as ever, darting to and fro trying to process everything they were taking in. I think our snickers behind him snapped him out of his daze, and in typical AJ fashion, he made a bee-line straight for the refrigerator.\n\n\"I wonder what this guy liked to eat!\" he said as he opened the fridge door.\n\n\"AJ, listen,\" Scooter reprimanded, \"we have a bigger priority right now. We have to find something that will help us locate this guy's family.\"\n\nWe all looked around. It looked like finding anything might actually be a difficult task, because there didn't seem to be anything \"personal\" lying around to rummage through.\n\nAJ decided to continue with his \"quest for knowledge\" in the fridge, while Scooter decided to dig around the bookshelf and the stack of newspapers next to it. That left me with the small table with the shoebox and sewing kit. The sewing kit was nothing special, so I quickly moved on to the shoebox.\n\nAs I opened the lid, I knew I had hit the jackpot. The box was full of opened mail addressed to Stanley P. Mathisen: a letter from his buddy in Chicago, a couple old phone bills, a letter from the Jungle Furniture Company, a couple credit card applications, and a few other random pieces of junk mail that Mr. Mathisen must have thought were important enough to keep.\n\nThat was all very interesting, but what I found at the bottom of the box would prove to be our biggest lead.\n\n### Chapter 12\n\n# An Unexpected Gift\n\n\"Stanley Peter Mathisen, 8010 Windy Ridge Place, San Francisco, CA 94117,\" I announced as I held up a California Driver's License. \"Wow, this expired ten years ago! No wonder he didn't carry it in his wallet anymore. Hey, maybe he still has family somewhere in San Francisco!\"\n\nScooter and AJ rushed over to get a closer look at the ID. Scooter then noticed the phone bill still in the shoebox. He picked it up and started scanning down the list of long distance calls.\n\n\"Does anyone know the area code for San Francisco? I don't recognize this one, 650, but it shows up with a couple different numbers that he called multiple times last month. I bet you anything that this is a San Francisco area code. I wonder what other clues might be in here.\" He set the phone bill down and went back to the shoebox.\n\n\"Well, he got a letter from that Brett Hull guy back in Chicago,\" I said. \"Mr. Hull already told us they went to college together. Maybe he remembers where Mr. Mathisen is from or some of the names of his relatives? I can call him; I probably should call him anyway and let him know what happened.\"\n\n\"What about this letter from the furniture company?\" AJ asked as he grabbed another envelope. The envelope had a distinctive logo—two yellow triangles, one pointing up and the other pointing down, with a smiling monkey overlapping both. \"Jungle Furniture Company. Hmm, I think I recognize this logo from one of the letters that your dad intercepted.\" He unfolded the letter and began reading silently.\n\n\"Hmm. Looks like they're recalling some furniture; must be this stuff down here. Let's see, A-15BLU and A-14RED. Do you guys see a tag on anything with either of those numbers?\"\n\nI looked at the blue chair I was sitting in. Its wood frame was supposed to look like bamboo, but I am pretty sure it wasn't actually bamboo. On the wood frame sat a poufy blue cushion for a seat and a similar blue cushion for the back of the chair. The back cushion had a thin sheet of wood attached to its back so the cushion wouldn't get scrunched and lose its shape. I found the tag attached to the seat cushion and verified that the number matched with the letter AJ was holding. Scooter found a similar tag on the red couch, and it also matched.\n\n\"I don't see why they are recalling this stuff,\" Scooter said, scratching his head. \"I don't see anything wrong with it. Maybe they found it's very flammable or something.\"\n\n\"Well, I say we don't worry about it. I don't think we'll have any open flames down here, do you?\" I joked.\n\nAJ looked down at the letter again. \"Yeah, the letter doesn't even say what the recall is for.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that sort of bothers me,\" Scooter said. \"Maybe I'll check out their website and find out what the recall is for—just to satisfy my own curiosity. Well, let's take that whole shoebox with us and head up to my room. It's only 8:15, and I'm hoping we can call a couple of these phone numbers tonight before it gets too late. Tyler, would you do the honors?\"\n\n\"How much do you think I should say when I call?\" I asked. I knew the truth was probably stranger than anything I could make up.\n\n\"I don't know, Ty, but I hope you figure it out before they answer the phone.\"\n\nWe all moved toward the door, and Scooter made AJ hold the key up in the air for all of us to see before he was willing to shut the huge door. We climbed the ladder, shut the lid, and then decided the safest place to put the one and only key was back on the nail in the tree. AJ ran it over while Scoot and me crossed the lawn toward the back porch.\n\nWhen we got inside, the rest of Scooter's family still had their eyes glued to the TV, watching some reality show where people were trapped on an island and in some singing competition at the same time. Sheesh, what will they think of next?\n\nAs soon as we got up to Scooter's room, he was on his computer. It was very easy for him to prove his hunch that the phone numbers did indeed have a San Francisco area code. He then did an internet search on the first phone number, and it came back belonging to a jewelry store. So he tried the second number, and it came back as the greyhound bus station in SanFran. He tried the third and last phone number with a 650 area code, and the search engine returned \"Unavailable Residence.\" That was promising.\n\n\"It appears that the third time _is_ the charm.\" He reached for the phone and handed it to me. \"Here, Ty, you're up!\"\n\nI dialed the number, and as it was ringing, I turned up the volume so that even though it wasn't on speakerphone, hopefully the other guys could still hear. After a couple rings, a woman's voice answered the phone.\n\n\"Hello?\" It sounded like an older woman's voice. That was a good sign.\n\n\"Uh, yes, Ma'am, do you know a Stanley Mathisen?\" I asked as politely as possible.\n\n\"Yes... that's my brother. Who is this?\"\n\nWe all looked at each other with grins. We had guessed correctly! But the smiles faded in an instant as I remembered the point of this conversation. I decided to go with the \"most of the truth\" route.\n\n\"Well, Ma'am, my name is Tyler, and I live up here in Silverdale, Washington. I am really calling on behalf of my good friend Scooter. He is super shy and stutters a lot.\"\n\nScooter shot me a dirty look, but I continued, \"Scooter's family has an extra room behind their house, and your brother, well, he has been living there for quite some time now.\"\n\n\"Yes, he was down here about a month ago to visit me and my husband, and he said he has really enjoyed the last few years living up there,\" she said proudly. \"And, young man, please just call me Bonnie.\"\n\nI cut right to the chase, \"Well, Ma'am... er, I mean, Bonnie, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Mr. Mathisen apparently died of a heart attack a couple days ago.\"\n\nBonnie chuckled, \"So it was Number Four that got him, huh?\" Her response had me puzzled and worried that she might have misunderstood me.\n\n\"Uh, excuse me?\"\n\n\"Oh, this makes his fourth heart attack. He had his first three while he was still down here in California. After the third, he decided not to mope around and wait to die as some lonely man sitting in a rocking chair.\n\n\"He had a friend named Willy Bloomenthal whom he used to teach high school with, who moved up your way when he retired. Stanley decided he wanted to stop teaching history and go make some! He seemed happy, too. Told me so himself when he was down here last month. Bought me a nice set of earrings for my birthday and everything.\"\n\nThat explained the call to the jeweler in California. I continued, \"Well, I am truly sorry for your loss.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't be. He had a good long life, and a happy one, too.\" She paused for a brief second. \"He didn't suffer, did he?\"\n\n\"Well that's the thing, Ma'am. I truly don't know. We hadn't seen him around for a while. And then we read in the paper that an unidentified man died of a heart attack in the produce section of the grocery store. So we went down there and showed them a picture of Mr. Mathisen, and they confirmed it was him. But Scooter thought it would be best if someone from his family actually did all that official stuff and not some junior-higher who didn't know him very well.\"\n\n\"Produce section, huh? Well, Stanley did love his oranges. That is the one thing he said he really missed about California—good citrus.\" She laughed again and then asked, \"So how did you know to call me?\"\n\nI went on to explain how we actually did not know who to call, how we had gone to Mr. Mathisen's room and found the phone bill. I then gave her the number to the Bag 'N' Save so she could call and figure out what to do next. Lastly, I told her about all of Mr. Mathisen's things in his room and asked what we should do with them.\n\n\"I don't care. Give it away, throw it away, keep it all if you want. Just send the framed picture, if you don't mind. That day was pretty special. Harold and I are celebrating twenty-five years in November. We got married kind of old, but that hasn't stopped us from getting older together!\" I could tell she was beaming—even through the telephone.\n\n\"Are you sure you don't want any of his stuff?\" I asked.\n\n\"You bet. Stanley was never married and has no family but me, and Harold and I have no kids. So what are we going to do with all that stuff? Besides, you boys were kind enough to track me down; it's the least I can do. In fact, when you send me the picture, I am going to send you back some money, in case any bills pop up or you find anything else you may need.\"\n\n\"Oh, Ma'am, that is totally not necessary.\"\n\n\"No, I insist! I am old enough to be a grandma, remember? Give me a chance to spoil somebody!\"\n\n\"Alright, if you insist. I will get this picture sent off to you as soon as I can. Good luck with the funeral arrangements and stuff. And again, my condolences.\" I don't even know what that word means, but I have watched enough funerals in cop shows that I am pretty sure that was the right one to use there.\n\n\"Thank you, Tyler,\" she said as her goodbye.\n\nI hung up the phone. AJ then chimed in, \"Tyler, remember that picture the locksmith from Chicago e-mailed to you? You could send that picture, too. That would be a great picture for her to remember Mr. Mathisen by.\"\n\n\"Great idea, Aidge,\" Scooter replied. \"And I think I should be the one to send her the pictures. I would like to send her a sympathy card anyway. Tyler, can you forward that e-mail to me? At school tomorrow, I can print a copy off one of the library's color printers. An extra picture is the least I can do to thank that lady for what she's giving us.\"\n\nOf course, Bonnie had no clue just how big a gift she was giving us. But we all knew what that was: our very own, fully furnished, secret hideout!\n\n### Chapter 13\n\n# The Enigma Squad Begins\n\nThe next day was a buzz of excitement.\n\n\"So did either of you get any sleep last night?\" Scooter asked as we found our seats on the morning bus. \"I just lay there staring at the ceiling all night and thinking about the shelter in my backyard.\"\n\n\"Me too!\" AJ exclaimed. \"Our own secret hideout with our very own fridge! We can stock it with all the soda and snacks we want! Next time we have an epic game of neighborhood paintball, we can use the shelter as our base to reload and regroup!\"\n\n\"I don't know, AJ,\" I argued. \"I think if we do that, we run the risk of someone eventually seeing us going in or out of the hole. I sort of wanted to keep the shelter as a secret just between the three of us. What do you guys think? Is this going to be our little secret?\"\n\nScooter and AJ nodded their agreement.\n\n\"I think we should make the shelter our secret headquarters,\" Scooter said with that knowing grin of his.\n\n\"Headquarters? For what?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"For our detective business,\" Scooter answered excitedly.\n\n\"Our what?\" AJ asked, confused.\n\n\"Well, I don't know about you guys,\" Scooter said, \"but I thought this last week was a blast. Finding the bomb shelter was obviously cool, but didn't you get a rush when we were trying to track down where and why Mr. Mathisen was hiding out in the woods? I think the three of us should open up shop and solve mysteries.\"\n\n\"That sounds like fun, Scoot!\" said AJ.\n\n\"Yeah, I think it could be fun, and we could even make a little spending money,\" I chimed in. \"But we have to have a catchy name... like, uh, Youth Sleuths or something like that.\"\n\n\"That's sort of a tongue-twister, don't you think?\" Scooter asked. \"After all, if one of us can't even pronounce it— _cough_ , AJ—then I am not sure it's a good name.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about? I can say it! Youth Soot... Yout Sloot... Looth Soot... OK, yeah, let's not use that one.\"\n\n\"How about the something Detective Trio?\" I suggested.\n\nAJ made his own suggestion before even considering mine. \"How about the Underground Detectives?\"\n\nScooter and me both rolled our eyes. AJ saw us and got defensive. \"What? What's not to like? We're detectives, and we're underground!\"\n\nScooter answered him. \"So, Aidge, what are you going to say to the first person who asks why we are called the 'Underground Detectives'?\"\n\n\"Well, because our headquarters is undergrou... oh, I see. Yeah, that won't work.\"\n\n\"Now that I think about it, I don't really like the word 'detectives,'\" I said. \"I don't know why; I guess I just want a name that says 'no matter the puzzle, mystery, riddle, or whatever, we'll help you solve it!'\"\n\nScooter and AJ nodded, and then we sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, Scooter spoke up. \"What about enigma?\"\n\n\"Eni-what?\" AJ and me asked in near unison.\n\n\"Enigma. It means 'a puzzling occurrence.' That's sort of what our first case was, right? A puzzling occurrence.\"\n\n\"Enigma,\" I said, thinking out loud. \"It has a nice ring to it. And it definitely will make someone curious to know what exactly we do. I don't know, though; can AJ pronounce 'enigma'?\"\n\n\"Ha, ha, ha, very funny. Enigma, enigma, enigma,\" he repeated.\n\n\"Well, it really can't be just 'Enigma,'\" Scooter added. \"It needs to be Enigma and then something.\"\n\n\"How about Enigma Squad?\" AJ pulled out of thin air.\n\n\"Enigma Squad!\" I said, nodding with an approving smile.\n\n\"There it is! The Enigma Squad,\" Scooter said with glee as he clapped his hands together and then raised a fist in the air.\n\n\"OK, we have our name; we have our headquarters; now what?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"We get to work,\" Scooter said. \"And I know what our first case is going to be.\"\n\n\"I thought we just solved one!\" AJ argued.\n\n\"Well, we did, but we didn't have an official name yet. This will be our first case as the Enigma Squad.\"\n\n\"So what is this grand mystery we're going to solve, then?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well, I don't know about you guys, but something just smells really fishy about that recall notice Mathisen got for his furniture,\" Scooter said. \"It just doesn't sit right with me. Most recall notices give very specific instructions on why a product is being recalled. That way you can avoid choking on it, letting it catch fire, or whatever else the recall is for. I say we take Super Third Period and do some research.\"\n\nThe three of us did not have any classes together, which was a real bummer, but we did have what we dubbed Super Third Period.\n\nYou see, I had English for third period, and every other Friday we went to the library to research our next writing assignment. Meanwhile, Scooter was taking some joke of a computer class that met in the \"Computer Lab\" on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The Computer Lab just so happened to be a corner of the library filled with computers and separated from the rest of the library by a four-foot wall. AJ spent his third period getting an easy credit as a Librarian's Assistant.\n\nSo this meant that every other Friday, all three of us would be in the library at the same time, which meant, of course, we got nothing that was school-related done. And that is what made it all the more \"Super.\" So we agreed to meet during third period in the library at the front desk where AJ worked.\n\n### Chapter 14\n\n# Something Smells Rotten in Canada\n\nMy third period class met in the classroom first in order to take roll and then went to the library, so by the time I got to the front desk, Scooter and AJ were already gone. I looked around and spotted them across the room, sitting at one of the library computers where students could go to check e-mail, surf the web, and (every once in a while) actually research something school-related.\n\n\"Hey, guys,\" I said as I walked up. \"What do we know so far?\"\n\n\"I went to the furniture gallery website,\" Scooter said without looking up. He was clicking on various tabs, looking at the different styles of furniture that the company offered. He stopped when he found the page that showed a couch looking identical to the one down in the shelter—I mean, our headquarters.\n\n\"I found the type of furniture Mr. Mathisen has... actually, that we have. But I don't see any notice anywhere on this website that they have a recall on this or any other line of furniture.\"\n\n\"What do you think that means?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"Well, like I said, it all smells fishy to me,\" he responded. \"But maybe they just haven't updated their website.\"\n\n\"Well, let's call them,\" I suggested. \"We should be able to get an answer out of them over the phone.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but they are up in Vancouver, Canada. We will have to wait until we get home to call, since it would be an international call. Hopefully, they will still be open then.\"\n\n\"Shoot, I wanted to get to the bottom of this now!\" I whined.\n\n\"Actually, we might be able to call from here,\" AJ said. \"Mrs. Jennings had to make a call last week after Gerald Higgins passed out in the hallway outside our classroom. They thought maybe he was allergic to something, and so they had to call his parents to find out. But they were on a trip with Gerald's older brother, visiting colleges down in Florida.\"\n\n\"I remember that,\" I added. \"They thought maybe he had a reaction to peanut butter or something.\"\n\n\"Yeah, he turned out to be OK—just exhaustion from gym class the period before. Anyway, I was up at the board when she called, so I saw the code she typed in before she dialed the actual phone number that was on the piece of paper she had. I bet if the code worked to call Florida, it will work for an international call, too.\"\n\n\"So we just have to find an empty classroom where we can use the phone,\" Scooter concluded.\n\n\"Hey, let's head to mine,\" I suggested. \"Everyone from my class is right here in the library.\"\n\n\"Perfect,\" Scooter said as he wrote down the number from the website. We then did our best to nonchalantly move toward the library exit.\n\nWell, my assumption was correct, and no one was in my classroom when we got there. We all agreed Scooter would watch the door in case anyone headed toward our classroom, AJ would type in the code, and then I would try and fake my way through a conversation with the furniture people without bringing too much attention to myself.\n\nI walked over to the phone hanging on the wall next to the white board and reached for the receiver when Scooter stopped me.\n\n\"Wait, Ty, this will help.\" He reached in his backpack and pulled out a device that looked like a kazoo with a dial on it. He tossed it over to me.\n\n\"This will help you not to sound like an eight-year-old.\"\n\n\"Hey, my voice is not _that_ high,\" I squawked, and my voice cracked. Talk about bad timing. Scooter and AJ started laughing out loud but quickly recovered, knowing that any minute someone might ruin our \"alone time\" in the classroom.\n\nI moved on, \"So what is this, anyway?\"\n\n\"Oh, just a little something I made a couple of months ago. I call it a pitch dilator. I use it to lower or raise the key of songs hear on the radio so I can play along with my guitar. If you talk through the pitch dilator and turn the knob to about -5 or -6, you should sound a lot more like an adult.\"\n\n\"Hmm, OK,\" I said. For fun, I turned the knob to +3. \"How do I sound?\" I spoke into the pitch dilator. The voice we all heard come out sounded like I had just inhaled helium from a balloon.\n\n\"OK, so it works. Let's do this for real.\" I turned the knob to -5 and spoke again, \"How about now?\"\n\nThe tone had a slight mechanical ring to it, but it definitely made me sound a lot older. And with time running out, it would have to do. If asked, I could always blame the slight metallic ring on a bad phone connection.\n\nAJ picked up the phone and dialed the code as he remembered: 91269. He immediately got a _beep_ - _beep_ - _beep_. It sounded like a busy signal. He hung up, picked up the phone, and tried again—same result. He looked up at me. \"Uh-oh, I know I have the right number. Mrs. Jennings was saying the numbers under her breath while she dialed them.\"\n\nOur lookout, Scooter, was starting to get a little antsy. \"What was the number, Aidge?\"\n\n\"91269.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Positive.\"\n\nAJ and me stood silent for a moment with puzzled looks on our faces. Scooter had his \"pondering\" look on his face. I could almost see the wheels turning behind that frowny-smiley expression.\n\nFinally, Scooter spoke up, \"You said Mrs. Jennings' class, right?\"\n\n\"Yup, fifth period.\"\n\n\"And her classroom is down the hall and around the corner, right?\"\n\n\"Uh... yeah.\"\n\n\"Ok, one sec.\" He poked his head out the door for a second. When he came back in, he said, \"Try 91359.\"\n\n\"But, Scoot, I know I had the ri—\"\n\n\"Just do it! 91359.\"\n\n\"OK.\" AJ reluctantly dialed 91359. The phone gave a _click_ - _click_ and then a dial tone. We stood there stunned for a second, and then I began dialing the furniture gallery. While I finished dialing, Scooter explained.\n\n\"The code is 9, then the room number, and then another 9. I am guessing Mrs. Jennings' room number is 126. This one is 135.\"\n\nI finished dialing, and as the phone began to ring, I decided I would play the \"concerned grandparent\" angle with the furniture company. I held Scooter's pitch contraption up to my mouth and then held the phone as best I could so AJ would also be able to hear what was being said on the other end of the line.\n\nA young woman answered the phone. \"Jungle Furniture Company. How may I direct your call?\"\n\n\"Yes, Ma'am, I am not sure who I should ask, but I received a letter from your company announcing a recall of the furniture I purchased. I am concerned about the nature of the recall. I often have my two grandkids over, and I am worried about having dangerous furniture in my home with two little ones running around.\"\n\n\"Um, I don't know, Sir. I am not familiar with a recall on any of our furniture lines. Let me transfer you to customer service,\" the voice replied.\n\nThe phone began playing saxophone music. I thought I recognized the tune as the theme song from some movie my sister forced me to watch, but with no words, I couldn't really place it. I took a moment to tell AJ and Scoot what I had learned so far. Finally, a man picked up on the line.\n\n\"Mr. Mathisen, Mrs. Robins informs me that you have some questions concerning our recall on the A-line of furniture you purchased. My name is Ronald Snelling, and I am head of our Customer Service Department here. What questions can I answer for you? And when can we arrange to pick that furniture up for you?\"\n\nI turned and gave a puzzled look to AJ. I could not remember—had I given Mr. Mathisen's name when I introduced myself? I didn't think so. Warning bells were sounding in my head.\n\n\"Mr. Mathisen? Are you there?\" Snelling asked.\n\n\"Yes, Sir, I apologize—I must have been listening to the elevator music too long. What did you say was the problem with the furniture?\"\n\n\"Actually, I didn't. But it is a design flaw we've discovered, and we felt it best to just refund money and recover the furniture before anyone gets hurt.\"\n\n\"Oh no! I have my grandkids come over here often, so I would not want them to be hurt. But I have sort of grown attached to my furniture. Maybe you can explain the problem and I can try and fix it myself? I am pretty good with tools. I—\"\n\n\"No, don't do that, Sir! You mustn't do that!\" Snelling screamed into the phone. His voice then softened. \"Er, I mean, you really shouldn't do that, we would not want to be liable for any harm that comes from that. We strongly suggest you leave the repairs up to us, and like I said, we will gladly refund your money or replace the furniture. We even have some men with a truck in your area. You still live in Silverdale, correct?\"\n\nThis conversation was getting a little too close for comfort. I needed to turn the heat down and give us a chance to think this through.\n\n\"Fine, I will let you guys take care of it—but I want a full refund! And yes, I do live in Silverdale, but today is not a good day. I will be over at my daughter's house until late this evening. Can I call you back tomorrow and make pick-up arrangements?\"\n\n\"That would be fine, Mr. Mathisen, and we will have your refund with us when we pick up the furniture. But I strongly encourage you not to delay and let us take care of this as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"Thanks for your concern, but like I said, I will not even be home until tomorrow, so it does not make sense to deal with this until then. Good day.\"\n\nI hung up the phone, even though I am pretty sure Snelling was trying to say something else. Without saying another word, I headed toward the door. AJ followed. Scooter joined us at the door, and I handed him back the dilator, and then we hurried back to the library. We had maybe been gone a short enough time to not be missed yet.\n\nAs we re-entered the library—separately, of course—it appeared that third period had moved along rather nicely and uneventfully without us. We still had fifteen minutes left in the period, so we headed over to the Reference section, where we could talk more freely. No one ever really went to the Reference section to look at the books, so it was a great place to have a private conversation.\n\nAs usual, AJ was the first to speak up. \"Dude, that guy sounded pretty anxious to get his furniture back—a little too anxious!\"\n\n\"I know!\" I responded. \"And you know what else sounded suspicious? He called me Mr. Mathisen. I didn't introduce myself as Mathisen, did I?\"\n\n\"No, you didn't, Ty!\" AJ was excited.\n\nScooter then chimed in, \"If that is the case, then my suspicions were correct. I think there is some sort of scam going on here. I'll bet they were targeting Mathisen because they thought he would be an easy target. Old, single, loner; on paper, he makes an ideal candidate for getting duped.\"\n\n\"So what's the scam, Scoot? Do you think Jungle Furniture is even a real company?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"Let's go with what we know: I saw the Better Business Bureau symbol on their website, so they have to be legitimate. They probably sell lots of furniture to lots of people. Plus, if they were scamming everybody, then why would they have assumed you were Mr. Mathisen?\"\n\nScooter continued, \"That fact alone tells us they have only one scam going, and Mathisen is the target. I'll bet this Snelling guy is conducting his own scam within an otherwise legitimate business, and probably only a few others at the company know what he is doing, or would even suspect him of it.\"\n\n\"So what do we do now?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"I think we need to do some more research on this Snelling guy specifically when we get home, and in the meantime, we play along.\"\n\n\"You mean like actually return the furniture?\" AJ asked, dumbfounded.\n\n\"Well, I think tomorrow we should call him back and at least set up a time for them to pick up the furniture. But, no, I don't intend on giving them any furniture back.\"\n\nWe threw out some theories as to what the scam might be and agreed to call the furniture store again from the headquarters; it seemed safer to call from there than one of our homes. By then, third period was over, and we moved on to lunch and then three more periods of the routine life of a junior-high student. Finally, the school day lost its grip of boredom on us, and we piled on the bus for the seventeen-minute ride home.\n\n### Chapter 15\n\n# The Break-In\n\nThe bus rumbled through our neighborhood, and as it rounded the last corner before our stop, it was clear that something was wrong. Several cars were on the side of the road near our stop, and many people were standing around, looking down towards Scooter's house. When we got off the bus, we could see police cars parked in and around the Parks' driveway.\n\nWell, I probably should have stopped by my house first to let my mom know I was home and OK, but I was too excited and curious to know what had happened at Scooter's house. (I would come to regret that decision.)\n\nThe three of us ran down the street and up Scooter's driveway, but we were stopped at the door by a large police officer who filled the entire doorway. \"Sorry, boys, nothing to see here.\"\n\n\"We live here!\" Scooter exclaimed. Not exactly the truth, but AJ and me did _practically_ live at the Parks' house. \"Where's my mom?\"\n\n\"She's upstairs, son,\" the cop replied. \"She's checking to make sure nothing was stolen.\"\n\n\"What?\" Scooter squeezed past the officer and rushed up the stairs. The officer started to make a move to stop him but then figured \"why bother\" and motioned to AJ and me that we could follow.\n\n\"Mom are you OK?\" Scooter blurted as we barged into his parents' upstairs bedroom. \"What happened?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am fine, Sean. I wasn't even home; I was out grocery shopping with Wyatt when this happened.\" She had been just staring at the wall, with her jewelry box in her lap. She was sub-consciously fumbling with the jewelry in the top tray. Three-year-old Urpy was sitting on the bed beside her, racing cars up and down his own legs, oblivious to all the drama going on around the house.\n\n\"I just got home about ten minutes ago. It looks like they didn't do anything upstairs, but oh, they made such a mess of downstairs. It's going to take weeks to get things back in order.\"\n\n\"Downstairs?\" Scooter said with a gulp. We had all run upstairs so fast to check on Mrs. Parks we had not even looked to see what all the commotion was about downstairs.\n\n\"Yes, they broke in and destroyed everything downstairs. The police are trying to decide if it was a robbery or just vandalism. I was up here checking to see if anything was stolen, but it doesn't look like it. Downstairs is such a mess, though, I am not really sure if anything was stolen.\"\n\n\"Can I go downstairs and check it out, Mom?\"\n\nShe reached out and gave Scooter a tight hug. \"Oh, Sean, I'm so glad you're OK! You can go downstairs; just stay out of the police's way. Let them do their jobs.\" She let him go, her eyes fell back to the jewelry box, and then she put her head in her hands. I could hear her start to sob.\n\n\"Mom, are you going to be OK?\"\n\n\"I'll be fine, Sean, I just need some time. I'm just glad no one got hurt.\" With that, she wrapped her arm around Urpy and pulled him in closer to her side.\n\nWe quietly walked out of the room and headed down the stairs much slower than we'd gone up. The mammoth officer from the front doorway met us at the bottom of the stairs and directed us to sit at the kitchen counter while they finished their investigation of the living room.\n\nOnce we sat down, we could finally take in the whole scene downstairs. The kitchen was separated from the living room by the counter where we were currently sitting. Connected to the kitchen on the other side was the dining room where the Parkses ate most of their meals. We couldn't really see the dining room from where we were sitting, but it only contained a dining table and chairs and a hutch full of dishes. If anything was out of place in there, it would pale in comparison to the mess we were surrounded by.\n\nThe kitchen floor was covered with pots and pans and half-empty cereal boxes. The countertops were littered with a mixture of spices, baking soda, and a bunch of cereals that had been dumped out of the boxes. It looked like someone had opened up every cupboard, pulled out everything inside, and just let gravity take over.\n\nOn the other side of the counter was the living room. At least, it used to be the living room. It appeared the most costly damage had happened there. The pictures that once hung above the couch had been pulled off the wall and their glass panes had shattered. The lightweight bookcase that used to hold small picture frames and other trinkets was tipped over, and the contents of the shelves had been left to find a resting place wherever they could on the living room rug. The couch and recliner appeared to have been slashed by a knife, and much of the stuffing was spread throughout the room. The cushions had been tossed aside, but they too had been slashed by a knife. The cushions' stuffing took the slashes as opportunities to escape from their cloth confinement.\n\nThe television had been pulled off the TV stand and was lying facedown in front of the stand. Maybe the Parkses would get lucky and the TV would still work, but I doubted it. I imagined when they picked it up, the TV would have a big spiderweb of cracks in the screen from a steel-toed boot or a baseball bat. That's how the whole room looked: like someone had some real anger issues and had taken it out on the Parks' living room.\n\nThe back door was halfway open, and one of the small panes of glass had been broken. I guess the intruders must have broken the glass and reached inside to unlock the door. This was \"the point of entry,\" as they say in the cop movies. The police must have been thinking the same thing because there was a police officer wearing plastic gloves inspecting the door. He wore glasses and was so skinny he made the door look fat. He looked more like a chemistry teacher than a cop. I wondered if he got the \"sciencey\" jobs because of his training, because he enjoyed it, or because he was the runt of the police department and they forced him to do all the dirty work. Probably all three.\n\nSkinny-chemistry-teacher-cop pulled a Zip-loc bag with gray dust out of his left jacket pocket and a little brush out of his right pocket and began to dust the doorknob, checking for fingerprints.\n\nTwo other policemen, finished writing on their clipboards, began picking up the furniture cushions and putting them back on the couch and recliner. Now that the floor was a little cleaner, they began to inspect the carpet—perhaps for shoeprints or something.\n\nThe three of us sat in silence and watched as the police went about their work. There was just too much information to take in and make sense of. I looked over at AJ and Scooter. AJ had his typical deer-in-the-headlights look. Scooter, though, had the look I'd seen so many times before. His eyes darted around the room, which told me his brain was hard at work processing every little detail. His half-grin, half-frown told me he was onto something. For the next few moments, I found myself staring at him, watching him. I felt if I looked hard enough, I could actually read his thoughts as they scrolled across his eyes.\n\nSuddenly, he snapped out of his trance and whispered to us, \"My mom was wrong—this was not done by a robber _or_ a vandal.\"\n\n\"How can you tell, Scoot?\" I whispered back.\n\n\"They weren't trying to rob us—look there on the floor.\" He pointed near the overturned TV. There was a gold pocketwatch on the floor next to it. \"See that gold watch? It was sitting on that bookcase at about eye level; there is no way they didn't see it. And if they were thieves, they would have definitely taken it. That watch is probably the easiest thing to pawn in this entire house. Plus, it looks like they didn't even go upstairs; if they had, it would have only taken two minutes to take all my mom's jewelry. You saw that her jewelry box was just sitting on the dresser. No, this was not a robbery.\"\n\n\"What about vandalism?\" AJ whispered. \"Looks like they trashed your place pretty good.\"\n\n\"It looks like it, doesn't it?\" Scooter answered. \"But did you notice outside? Not a thing was disturbed! Only the inside. Why would they risk tripping a burglar alarm to break in just so they could trash the place? It makes no sense.\"\n\n\"You have a burglar alarm?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"No, we don't,\" Scooter answered.\n\n\"But I bet you will now,\" AJ chuckled.\n\n\"Not funny,\" I said, and AJ shut up.\n\n\"My point is,\" Scooter continued, \"they sure took a lot of risk if all they wanted to do was destroy property. I don't think this has anything to do with robbery or vandalism at all.\"\n\n\"Then what is this about?\" I whispered, my curiosity piqued.\n\n\"Look at the couch and chair.\" I looked over at the furniture. By now the police had put all the cushions back in roughly the places they came from. Each cushion had an almost identical diagonal slash from the top left corner down to the bottom right. Each slash had a significant amount of stuffing pulled halfway through the opening. Strange. I looked at the recliner. Same diagonal slash with stuffing coming out.\n\n\"I think that our visitors were looking for something.\" Scooter then whispered even more softly, \"And I think it has everything to do with the three of us.\"\n\nBy this time, the officers in the living room had moved to the hall near the front door and were filling in the rest of the team on what they knew so far. The human pencil with glasses was now standing on the back porch, working on the outside of the door. Still, Scooter whispered as quietly as he could.\n\n\"I think this break-in has something to do with Mr. Mathisen.\"\n\n\"But he's dead!\" AJ blurted out a lot louder than any of us wished he had. Luckily, none of the officers must have heard; we could see them across the room with their backs still turned toward us.\n\n\"OK, just trust me. I'll show you,\" Scooter whispered, with his hands held out as if to keep us from jumping out of our seats. He turned toward the group of police officers, \"Um, Officers, is it possible for us to leave now? We wanted to go outside and play in the backyard. Is that OK?\"\n\nA heavyweight officer with fire-red hair emerged from the center of the crowd of police and took a couple steps toward us. Although most of his bulk looked like muscle, it was clear that he hadn't chased any bad guys on foot lately, but he must have in his heyday because he clearly commanded respect wherever he went. Every officer turned as if to give this man every ounce of their attention. Even before the formal introduction, it was clear this man was in charge.\n\nHe extended his hand toward Scooter. \"Commander Erik Coleman. And you are?\"\n\n\"Scooter. Er, I mean, Sean Parks, Sir,\" he said, shaking the Commander's hand.\n\n\"And who are they?\" he asked, pointing to AJ and me.\n\n\"My friends—Tyler and AJ,\" Scooter answered nervously. \"They practically live here, too.\"\n\n\"I see,\" Commander Coleman said. He turned to one of the officers standing nearby. \"Perimeter?\"\n\n\"All clear, Sir. We checked the woods all the way back to the next housing development and questioned all the neighbors who were home, and nobody saw anything.\"\n\n\"Nothing, huh?\" he said with a frown. \"At least it should be safe. Good work, Saunders. Well, Scooter,\" he said Scooter's name with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, \"going outside will be just fine. But stay within shouting distance; we may have some questions for you in a little bit. By the way, I noticed you looking around pretty intently earlier. Even though this is quite a mess, did you notice anything missing?\"\n\n\"Not that I noticed, no, Sir.\"\n\n\"Are you sure, Scooter?\" he asked again.\n\n\"No, Sir, I am pretty sure everything in this house is accounted for,\" Scooter answered confidently and truthfully.\n\nCommander Coleman turned toward me. \"How about you, Tyler? Did you notice anything that I—or rather _we_ —should know about?\" He said that last little bit with the same smile he'd had for Scooter's name.\n\nThe more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had seen that same smirk before on Scooter's face when he knew something and was holding it over AJ's and my head.\n\n\"N-n-no, Sir,\" I mumbled, feeling like I was expected to say something else. And I couldn't help but wonder why he had asked me and not asked AJ.\n\n\"OK, then,\" Commander Coleman said with a wink, still wearing that huge smile. \"You boys go get some fresh air.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sir,\" we all said in unison.\n\n### Chapter 16\n\n# Finders Keepers?\n\nScooter walked past the officer who had just finished his inspection of the back door. AJ and me followed him. We all dropped our backpacks in the lawn chairs on the back porch and started across the lawn. In silence, Scooter walked over to the tree and got the key. (That reminds me: we really need to make a few copies of that thing.) After making sure no one was watching, he entered what was now our secret entrance. He made his way to the manhole cover, opened it, and descended the ladder.\n\nNot really sure what he was up to, AJ and me just followed him without saying a word. We went inside our new headquarters and shut the vault door, and still no one said a word. Scooter plopped down in the poufy chair next to the table, and I sat on the couch. AJ stood with his back to the sink and his hands stretched behind him, grabbing the counter. All eyes were on Scooter.\n\nAfter what seemed an eternity, Scooter's frown turned into the hugest grin, and his eyes began to twinkle. I knew what that meant: Scooter was about to tell a story. He started talking quickly, as if he'd planned out what he was going to say.\n\n\"OK, guys, hear me out. Here is my theory. This all begins with Mr. Snelling from the furniture company. He's been working at Jungle Furniture for a while. Then, by some devious plot or criminals' good luck, he comes across some item he is not supposed to have.\"\n\n\"Like what?\" AJ asked anxiously.\n\n\"I don't know, but we are about to find out,\" Scooter said.\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Just let me finish my story first! So Snelling has this thing he is not supposed to have, and he is about to get caught with it, so he hides it in some furniture in his company's warehouse. That's where Mr. Mathisen comes into our story. He orders some furniture from the catalog, and the company unknowingly sends the furniture—\" he patted the chair beneath him, \"this very furniture—with the 'thing' still inside!\n\n\"Snelling soon realizes the furniture has been shipped and has to get it back without raising suspicion, so he sends Mathisen a rather innocent-looking recall letter, hoping Mathisen will just send it back to the company and Snelling can retrieve his merchandise.\n\n\"Tyler, that's why Snelling called you Mathisen on the phone: he knew it could only be one person because he only sent one recall letter. That's why he reacted the way he did when you asked about fixing it yourself, because the last thing he wanted was for you to go pull apart the furniture and find out what he was hiding.\n\n\"So here's the clincher. Now he is getting really desperate. Vancouver is, what, three hours from here?\"\n\n\"Plus time for the ferry,\" I said.\n\n\"Right. My point is that he can't have gotten here fast enough to have trashed my house and gone before we got home from school. So he must have called a couple thugs he knows near here—maybe as far away as Seattle—and told them to go find his merchandise inside some furniture. He gives them my address, and so they show up and break in and start tearing the furniture apart. But they don't find anything—because neither he nor they know about this shelter! When they come up empty at my house, they have to cover their tracks, so they trash the place, break a bunch of stuff to make it look like vandalism or a robbery gone bad.\"\n\n\"So what if you're right?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"So if I am right, there should be something hidden in this furniture that Tyler and I are sitting on. My bet is this chair because that futon was bent and straightened every day by Mathisen when he transformed his bed into a couch and vice versa. I think he would have felt a lump if there were anything stuffed in his mattress.\"\n\nScooter stood up and looked at the cushion he was sitting on. He squeezed it a couple times in different places and, satisfied, moved to the cushion on the back of the chair. He picked it up and set it on the small table with the hard wood panel facing up. He knocked on the wood three times, \"See, this hard panel keeps the cushion from losing its shape, but it might also keep anything inside from being discovered or ruined.\"\n\nHe set the cushion on end and inspected the seams, rotating the cushion until he discovered the zipper, which would normally be facing down and out of sight. I caught myself holding my breath as he unzipped the zipper and reached inside. He struggled briefly as he maneuvered around all the stuffing, but then he pulled his hand back. In it was a long, narrow, wooden box.\n\n\"Hmm. Interesting,\" Scooter said as he quickly moved the cushion to the floor and set the box on the table. The box was made of a dark, cherry-colored wood and was almost the exact same shape as the box of chocolates our family would get every Christmas from my Great Aunt Edith (the kind of chocolates a boy gets excited about until he bites into the first and discovers it's filled with some unrecognizable fruit goo—yeah, sort of ruins it for you).\n\nThe top of the box was engraved with the silver letters T-R-U-B-E. On one end was a bright silver hinge, and on the other end, an ornate silver clasp. Scooter looked up at us, took a deep breath, and undid the clasp. He lifted the lid to reveal blue felt. Resting on the felt was the most beautiful necklace I had ever seen.\n\n\"Oh my...\" AJ stopped in mid-sentence, completely awestruck by the necklace. It was made of what looked like a zillion diamonds and a handful of sapphires. I could not even begin to guess how much it was worth.\n\nWe all stood silent and stunned until Scooter finally spoke up. \"Well, I guess I was right.\" He smiled big and continued, \"I can see why Snelling was willing to do just about anything to get this back.\"\n\n\"You think he stole it?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"Of course he stole it, Idiot,\" I snapped. \"You think if it were his, he would have stuffed it in some stranger's couch?\"\n\nEmbarrassed, AJ shrugged his shoulders. \"Well, you never know... So what do we do now?\"\n\n\"Research,\" Scooter replied as he shut the lid. He headed toward the vault door, leaving the box sitting on the table.\n\n\"Aren't you going to take the necklace with you?\" I asked.\n\n\"Are you kidding? If that's real, I bet it's worth like a million dollars!\" Scooter exclaimed. \"I don't want something that valuable anywhere in my house. Those goons who trashed my house will be back for sure. Besides, don't you think the safest place to keep this expensive jewelry is behind a bank vault door that no one knows exists?\"\n\n\"I think the safest place for that necklace is in the hands of your new Commander friend! If that necklace is really worth a million dollars, then this is huge!\"\n\n\"Exactly! This _is_ huge!\" Scooter said. \"Do I know how to pick 'em or what? What a great first case for the Enigma Squad! Before we do anything, we need to find out who this really belongs to. Then, we go from there.\"\n\n\"Scooter, are you crazy?\" I said. \"Did you see what those guys did to your house?\"\n\n\"Tyler,\" Scooter sputtered, \"Let's just hold off for one day. We could catch these guys and be heroes!\"\n\n\"Or we could just turn in the necklace and be rich! I bet there's gotta be some huge reward for turning it in,\" I argued.\n\nScooter turned to AJ. He could see where this was headed, and he knew AJ would end up being the tie-breaker to this argument. \"What do you think, Aidge? We could be heroes _and_ rich!\"\n\n\"Well... I don't see the harm in waiting a day,\" AJ said, giving me an apologetic shrug. \"I sort of like our new headquarters, and if we tell them about the necklace, we will have to tell them about this place. I say we wait a day and enjoy this place a little longer.\"\n\n\"I can't believe you guys! This situation is a lot bigger than I think you two realize.\"\n\n\"Oh really, wise one?\" Scooter said with uncharacteristic sarcasm. \"Please enlighten us.\"\n\n\"Oh shut up! If you goons want to keep the police in the dark, then go right ahead and do your research. But you can do it without me!\" I headed toward the door.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"Oh, don't worry. I won't tell the police about your big secret, if that's what you're worried about.\" I opened the door.\n\n\"You're really leaving?\" Scooter asked in disbelief.\n\n\"Yeah. I'm going home. You can solve _our_ first case by _yourselves_! Hope it's everything you dreamed it would be.\"\n\nWith that, I walked out and slammed the door behind me. Well, that's what I wanted to do, but the door was so heavy, I had to put all my weight behind it, so it was more of slow _thud_. So much for my dramatic exit.\n\n### Chapter 17\n\n# Grounded\n\nAfter crawling out of the blackberries, I grabbed my backpack off the back porch and walked around the side of the house and into the driveway. Only half the police cars were still there, and Scooter's dad was now home. His red sedan was parked in the driveway, and it hadn't been there earlier.\n\nAs I walked down the street towards my house, I couldn't help but think about Scooter and his dumb idea to try and keep this from the police and solve things without them. Scooter and his tunnel vision! He almost always had good ideas—and I felt like this detective gig was one of the best—but if he wasn't willing to see how dangerous this case had become... well, then he wasn't as smart as I always gave him credit for. Maybe he could create some gadget to knock sense into people, and then he could use it on himself!\n\nAs I reached the bus stop, I remembered that I hadn't checked in at home before heading to Scooter's house. I was sure I would hear about that shortly. I glanced two houses down on my left—AJ's house. No cars were parked in the driveway. Well, if AJ came to his senses soon and abandoned Scooter's reckless idea like I had, then he could get home before his parents did. But I guessed it wouldn't matter anyway; AJ never seemed to have any household drama, even if Scooter and me both did. I walked up to my door. Time to face the music.\n\n\"Where have you been?\" My mother's voice was a mix of anger and worry. She had seen me walking up the driveway and pounced the second I opened the door. She was standing with hands on her hips in the entryway.\n\n\"I was over at Scooter's, Mom,\" I said, backpedaling up against the front door.\n\n\"Please tell me you did _not_ get in the way of any of those police swarming his house!\"\n\n_Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt, Mom_ , I thought. \"No, Mom. Apparently, someone broke in while we were at school and Mrs. Parks was out grocery shopping.\"\n\nThe fear and anger in her eyes did not subside, but at least her body language softened. \"Tyler, I'm very glad you're safe, but you need to think next time. You know that I like you to check in before you disappear to the neighbors' house. You should have known that would be especially important on a day like today—when there are police all over the neighborhood.\"\n\n\"You're right, Mom. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you _are_ sorry, but I don't know if you completely understand how serious I am about this. The police came by here asking questions about seeing any strangers in the neighborhood. I had to call Mrs. Parks to find out where you were.\n\n\"She told me all about the break-in. She also told me that you boys showed up, hung around for a while, and then went outside to play. Did it never occur to you that 'Gee, my mom might be worried about me, and I should probably let her know I'm OK?'\" She actually wanted me to answer. \"Well, did it?\"\n\n\"Yes, but—\"\n\n\"But what?\" she interrupted.\n\n\"I-I-I don't know. I—\"\n\n\"You don't know. You thought about letting me know you were fine, but you don't know why you didn't. Well, I'll tell you why. You were only thinking about having fun, Tyler. That's all you were thinking. Well, I hope you had all your fun, because you're grounded for the weekend. No TV, no computer games, no telephone, no playing outside with Scooter or AJ. Maybe next time you will respect my wishes.\"\n\n\"That's not fair, Mom. All I did was not check in!\"\n\n\"Not fair? So you don't think it's a big deal not to check in, huh? You still don't get it, Tyler. Well, maybe after a weekend stuck in the house you will understand.\"\n\n\"Fine!\" I shouted as I marched up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door and flopped down face-first on my bed. I laid there with my face buried in the pillow, letting my anger ooze out into the pillowcase. I finally needed air, so I flipped over and stared at the ceiling. But I was still so mad! I couldn't believe it: grounded for the whole weekend! For what? For not checking in? Didn't Mom trust me? This was just so unfair.\n\nStaring at the ceiling, I got bored pretty fast, so out of curiosity, I decided to find out about more about this necklace we found. I imagined Scooter probably had already researched all this stuff, but since I couldn't talk on the phone, I would have to find answers myself.\n\nI jumped on my computer, brought up a search engine, and typed in \"TRUBE,\" \"Necklace,\" and \"Stolen.\" I got lots of search results, but the first one gave me all the answers I needed. It was an article from an online newspaper called the _B.C. Bugler_.\n\nApparently, the necklace that was sitting on a table below Scooter's backyard was stolen from the private collection of Mr. Francois Budir, residing in Port Coquitlam just outside of Vancouver, British Columbia. The necklace from the \"TRUBE\" collection was reportedly worth $250,000, and Mr. Budir was offering a reward for any information leading to the safe return of his necklace. The reward itself was $5,000! The burglary was just the latest in a long string of burglaries of this very high-end jewelry line in the Vancouver area. Apparently, some crook had a thing for TRUBE jewelry.\n\nI sat back in my computer chair. Wow! I could think of a lot of things I would love to buy with $5,000. Well, at least a third of it, anyway. I began to daydream about all that money until I heard a knock at the door.\n\n\"Come in,\" I yelled, making sure the visitor heard the anger in my voice.\n\nMy mother started talking as she opened the door. \"AJ just called, and I told him you couldn't talk because you were grounded all weeken—hey, I told you no computer!\"\n\n\"No, you said, 'No computer _games_!' I was just doing research, Mom!\"\n\n\"Tyler, you are always trying to get away with things based on some technicality. Why don't you just obey me? You know whenever you're grounded, you are not allowed on the computer. Why would this time be any different?\n\n\"Now, not only are you grounded from all the things I mentioned before, but you will stay in your room all weekend, except to sit at the dining room table for meals.\" With that, she shut the door.\n\nWhatever anger had left me earlier was back and had brought reinforcements. I fumed in my chair for a good half hour until dinner was ready. Then, I tried to make dinner as uncomfortable as possible for my unreasonable mother.\n\nI didn't say a single word, and I made sure everyone noticed I was not talking. Other than the short phrases like \"Pass the salt\" and \"More chicken, please,\" no one else did a lot of talking, either. Finally, near the end of dinner, Mom spoke up.\n\n\"I have a wedding to go to tomorrow at noon. It's about three hours away, so I'll be leaving bright and early and won't be returning until late tomorrow afternoon. Tamara, I know you have that huge report to do this weekend, so I assume you will be working on your computer in your room most of tomorrow?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Mom, but I wanted to go to a movie with Shelley and Kristin tomorrow afternoon.\"\n\n\"Well, I need you to stay here and make sure Tyler does what he's been told. He is grounded to his room for the weekend. Is it possible for you and your friends to go to the movie in the evening?\"\n\n\"Yeah, probably, but we wanted to go to the Matinee so it wouldn't be so expensive.\"\n\n\"Well, I cannot miss this wedding.\" She got up and grabbed her purse. \"So here is twenty dollars to make up the difference for going to a later movie. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I really appreciate it.\"\n\n\"What about popcorn?\"\n\n\"Don't push your luck, Tam.\"\n\nGreat, now I would have to deal with Lieutenant Tamara grilling me with questions every time I left my room to use the restroom or get a snack. I excused myself from the table and moped my way back upstairs to my room. I guess the silver lining in being stuck in my room was that I didn't get stuck doing the dinner dishes.\n\nWhen I got back up to my room, I didn't have a lot of motivation to start the extra homework my teachers always felt they needed to assign over the weekends; after all, I was going to have plenty of time to do it over the next forty-eight hours. So I decided to work on organizing my baseball cards.\n\nNow that I knew there was a third of $5,000 reward money coming to me eventually, I had to decide how to spend it. There were a few cards I knew I needed to complete the set I was collecting, but I had to make sure I knew what I was missing. I wouldn't want to spend any money to get a card I didn't realize I already had!\n\nA half hour later, I had thirty or so piles of similar cards stacked all around me as I sat with my legs crossed on my bed. Every baseball card I owned was sitting in some pile on my bed. How was I going to put these back in the box in some semblance of order?\n\nA loud _CRACK_ broke me away from my thoughts. It sounded like my bedroom window had just broken, but as I looked up, I could see it was still intact. As I watched, a small pebble hit the window. A small pebble, but still a very large noise. I knew it must be AJ or Scooter trying to get my attention by throwing rocks at the window.\n\nI looked at the piles of cards surrounding me and realized it was going to be hard to get up without disturbing the cards I had so neatly stacked. I tried anyway, and sure enough, as I slowly pushed down on the mattress to hoist my body up and over the cards, I knocked over a couple stacks, and many others toppled over on their own, and they all slid down into the depression in the mattress where I had been sitting. Great.\n\n_Well_ , I thought, _I guess I have plenty of time to fix it_. A couple more rocks hit the window by the time I got over to it, and I looked down to see AJ bending over, looking for more rocks. When he looked up and saw me standing there, he gave me a nod hello, and only then did I dare open the window.\n\n\"Dude! Ty, I need your help!\"\n\n\"I can't help: I've been banished to my room all weekend!\"\n\n\"Yeah, your mom told me you were in trouble when I called. You're not still mad at us, are you? I'm real sorry if you think we're being stupid, but now we really need your help!\"\n\nThat's right! I was still mad at those two goons! I was so upset at my mom that I forgot I was upset with AJ and Scooter for trying to be heroes. I quickly decided to help them. (Well, if I was going to be punished for putting myself in danger, I might as well make it worth it, right?) But I wasn't going to let AJ off the hook quite so quickly.\n\n\"Why should I help you? You guys are the ones who thought we could be the heroes _and_ get the reward. What happened?\"\n\nAJ explained that he and Scooter had left shortly after I did and gone back in the house. Scooter's dad was still talking to Commander Coleman in the kitchen but all the other police had left.\n\nSo AJ and Scooter went up to Scooter's room and did their research on the computer and found the same article I had. So they now knew how much the necklace was really worth. They decided they would have to entice the furniture guys to come back out to the neighborhood and catch them red-handed somehow.\n\nJust as they were getting into the discussion, Scooter's dad came into the room and announced that he was taking the whole family to a nearby motel for the night and that they would be back sometime in the morning. Scooter, in front of his dad, said, \"AJ, I think I left my backpack at your house. You'd better call Tyler; he will know what to do.\"\n\nAJ then explained that he had gone home and called me, but I obviously couldn't answer the phone. \"And so I came over here to talk to you. I have no clue why he said he left his backpack at my house. I found it sitting on the back porch right next to mine when I left. Plus, we were never even at my house! So now I'm really confused!\"\n\nHow is that any different than usual? I thought to myself.\n\n\"Well, let me think about it,\" I said. \"Obviously, Scooter was trying to tell us something. Maybe it will come to me later. So my mom's actually going to be out of town all day tomorrow, so why don't you come back here after you see she's gone and we'll figure out what we should do next. I'd guess she'll be outta here by 8:30.\"\n\n\"OK, Ty,\" AJ said as he started to walk away, but then he turned back. \"We're cool?\"\n\nI smiled. \"We're cool.\"\n\n\"Sweet,\" he said as he turned and disappeared into the darkness.\n\nI closed the window and plopped down on the end of the bed. Any stacks of baseball cards that had been still intact went cascading off the bed and landed in piles on both sides. There went their mint condition. Oh well, I had more important things to worry about now.\n\nI decided for now not to worry about what Scooter was trying to tell me in his cryptic message to AJ and to focus on our three big problems: number one, how to get the furniture company crooks to come back so we could catch them; number two, where could we catch them; and number three, how could we catch them?\n\nIt took me a while to figure it all out. It ended up being a pretty elaborate plan, but in the end, I had a pretty solid idea that would solve all three problems—at least I thought it would.\n\n### Chapter 18\n\n# The Great Escape\n\nThe next morning I got up early and went downstairs to eat some cereal and catch my mom on her way out the door to the wedding. When I got downstairs at 8 a.m., however, she was already gone. _Well, this could work out well,_ I thought.\n\nI wolfed down my cereal and headed upstairs to begin implementing my plan. I kept the door to my bedroom open and turned my stereo on. I cranked the volume up to somewhere between \"downright annoying\" and \"unruly alarm clock\" and started digging into my closet as if it was time for spring cleaning.\n\nAs expected, the door across the hall flew open, and a tangled-haired monster (also known as my sister) in checkered pajamas stood in my doorway, yelling at me to turn the music down. I half-heartedly argued with her for a moment before grudgingly marching over and turning down the volume ever so slightly.\n\nI managed to drag the argument out a good three minutes before she was fully awake and fully ticked off. She finally said, \"I have a ton of studying to do. If you have to listen to that garbage, then please shut your door.\"\n\nShe slammed my door for me as she huffed down the stairs—presumably to grab some breakfast herself. Jail guard: neutralized. I went over and locked my door and then turned the stereo back up a tad.\n\nNow that I had established in my sister's mind that I was hunkered down in my room for the morning, I moved on to getting ready for the rest of the day. I quickly changed into some outdoor clothes and waited at the window for AJ to appear. I didn't have to wait long.\n\n\"Well?\" he said, looking up and trying to shield his eyes from the sun, which was just popping up over my roof above me.\n\n\"Let's get out of here first. See that big metal pipe by the fence? Grab it, and hand one end to me.\"\n\nAJ turned around and found the pipe I was referring to. It was about three inches wide and about twenty feet long. My dad had intended on using it to replace a water pipe buried in our yard, but he waited too long and the ground got too cold and hard for him to dig up the old one. He kept postponing the project until I think he finally forgot all about it, and so the pipe had sat along the fenceline ever since.\n\nAJ struggled to lift the heavy pipe and maneuver it in such a way as to hand one end to me and not hit the house or the fence with the other end. Finally, he got one end up to me. I took the pipe and stood it straight up about two feet from the house. I then crawled out the window and stood on the window sill.\n\nUsing the pipe to hold my balance, I shut the window as closed as I could so that my one heel was on the sill and the rest of my body was outside the window, holding on to the pipe for dear life.\n\nI flashed a grin to AJ and then leaned toward the back of the house and pushed off the house. The pipe and me began to fall. I turned my body so that I was facing the same direction I was falling. But I picked up speed a little faster than I anticipated. So as soon as my feet touched the ground, I ran to help break my fall. It wasn't the most stylish landing—as evidenced by AJ's muffled laughter—but I survived.\n\nI hadn't considered that the same soft ground that would muffle the sound of the falling pipe would also keep me from being able to run very well. I stumbled into the woods behind my house while AJ quickly put the pipe back against the fence.\n\nMost of the houses on our street have a decent-sized backyard that butts up against the woods. AJ actually has a six-foot fence that surrounds his entire backyard because he owns a dog. There is one house between AJ's house and mine, but AJ and me have worn a path in the woods behind the neighbor's yard so we can get to each other's backyard pretty easily.\n\nThe path dead-ends at the back fence of AJ's yard, so a couple years ago we took his old bunkbed ladder and put it back there so we can easily climb the fence. (Don't ask me why an only child like AJ ever had a bunkbed. There are plenty of other questions surrounding AJ that I would like answered first.) Anyway, on the other side of the fence from the ladder is a large doghouse. This large doghouse is for a rather large dog.\n\nAJ has a pet pit bull named SPUD, spelled with all capital letters. Don't ask me why. I will probably figure that out about the time that I learn what the A and the J stand for.\n\nAs far as naming him after a potato, the only thing I can think of is that that dog is lazy like a couch potato. I'm serious. All it ever does is lie around and eat. The only thing that ever gets that dog excited at all is strangers.\n\nBut, boy, does he get excited! That dog will snarl and growl and bark and act as if he's going to tear you apart. I think he's too lazy to actually do anything more than that, but SPUD makes one great guard dog. In fact, AJ's dad had to put a metal grate with a hinge on the front of the big doghouse just so he could barbeque on the back porch without his dinner guests feeling like they were about to be ripped to shreds. Anyway, SPUD was going to play a big role in my plan for the day.\n\n\"So are your parents out sailing like usual?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yeah, at Henderson Bay.\"\n\n\"Good. I think we'll get those guys to come here, then,\" I said. We both climbed the ladder, hopped the fence, and stood on the doghouse, surveying the yard.\n\n\"Why my house?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"Well, we can't have them showing up at Scooter's again; they would never come. And they can't come to my house: I am supposed to be in my room.\"\n\nWe hopped off the doghouse and walked across the lawn toward the back porch. SPUD barely startled as we walked past him. I don't understand how that dog can distinguish friends from strangers while sleeping, but he does.\n\n\"Why do we have to meet them at anyone's house?\" AJ asked.\n\n\"Because they need to come pick up their furniture at a house, don't they?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I guess so,\" AJ admitted.\n\n\"So remember that time when Scooter's mom was putting on a kitchen gadget show at her house, but all these ladies kept showing up at _your_ house asking where the party was?\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah, I remember—that's when we realized that I live at 473 Mountain View Drive, and Scooter lives at 473 Mountain View Court. What are the odds!\"\n\n\"Exactly. I plan on using that to our advantage. I'm going to call the furniture company pretending to be Mr. Mathisen and act like I thought about it and, to protect my grandkids, I decided to let them come get the furniture after all.\n\n\"Now, they will be thinking that surely since my house has been trashed, I must be onto them and know that the recall is a hoax. That's when I will have to play the 'clueless, cranky old man' and tell them to make sure that they come to the right address this time. Because when they delivered the furniture, they delivered it to the Mountain View Court and not the Mountain View Drive address.\n\n\"I know the story is a little rough, but for $250,000, I think Snelling won't think about it too hard. He'll just assume he picked a really dumb old man to dupe and consider himself fortunate that Mathisen called him back.\"\n\n\"I think it will work,\" said AJ. \"Why would he think that some old man is setting a trap for him? After all, as a con-man, he probably thinks he's smarter than anyone. It probably wouldn't cross his mind that someone could be conning him.\"\n\n\"Good point, Aidge,\" I agreed. \"So let's call and set up a pick-up time. Where is your phone?\"\n\n\"Wait, Tyler, your voice! You can't call unless you have that pitch-changer thingy; otherwise, you won't sound like Mathisen this time.\"\n\n\"Oh, good point. Shoot. Scooter's pitch changer was in his backpack. Wait! What was his message to you? Didn't he say something about his backpack?\"\n\n\"Yeah, he said he left his backpack at my house. But that's impossible; we never came over here.\"\n\n\"Hmm. Then why would he tell you his backpack was at your house? He was obviously trying to draw attention to his backpack, but he was being cryptic in front of his dad. Do you think he knew we would need the pitch-changer?\"\n\n\"Maybe, I don't know,\" AJ said.\n\n\"Yeah, I don't know either, but I think the fact that he mentioned your house, when clearly we all know it could _not_ be at your house, means he was actually trying to steer us to the shelter... so let's go.\"\n\nI was probably giving Scooter too much credit, but I had to try. We really couldn't make that phone call without the pitch dilator. We hurried across the street and entered the woods via a shortcut: a trail that runs behind a couple of Scooter's neighbors' houses and directly to the woods behind Scooter's backyard. We decided not to get anywhere near Scooter's house in case the police were inside or parked in the driveway.\n\nOnce inside our headquarters, I could see the jewelry box still sitting on the table where Scooter had left it. And sitting next to it was the pitch dilator.\n\n\"What? How did that get down here?\" AJ exclaimed as he ran over and picked up the device.\n\n\"Scooter, you are one devious little genius!\" I said, looking up as if talking to him while he sat on the ceiling. \"You know, I think he had this thing in his pocket the whole time we were down here arguing. His plan all along was to call the furniture company and set up some sort of pick-up. But then I bolted and left you guys without the same Mathisen voice we had used before. I imagine he left the pitch dilator down here, knowing that whenever one of us finally did make that call, it would probably be from down here.\"\n\nAJ and me paused a moment to reflect on the fact that, once again, Scooter was a couple steps ahead of us. Then I placed the phone call to Jungle Furniture. I'm not sure if Snelling really believed what I told him, but he did a good job of using his \"Great Customer Service\" tone and we set up a pick-up time of two o'clock that afternoon.\n\nI hung up and looked at my watch: 10 a.m. That left plenty of time to set up the rest of the trap, track down Scooter, and fill him in on the details.\n\nOn a whim, I picked up the phone again and dialed Scooter's house. Mr. Parks answered on the second ring. \"Hello.\"\n\n\"Hey, Mr. Parks, this is Tyler. Is Scooter there?\"\n\n\"Sure, Tyler, he's in the kitchen, helping clean up this mess. One moment.\"\n\n\"Hey, Ty,\" Scooter said as he picked up the phone. \"I see you got my message.\"\n\n\"Yes, I did. Pretty impressive. We are at headquarters, and things are now in motion. Are you going to be able to get free to help us out? We need you. Especially at two o'clock.\"\n\n\"Uh, one sec.\" The phone got silent for a moment. And then, \"Yeah, I probably have another hour of work to do here, and then Dad says I can play. We've been at this for most of the morning, and I am really looking forward to getting out of here for awhile. Where do you want to meet? AJ's house?\"\n\n\"Yes, but AJ's _real_ house, not the cryptic one.\" Both Scooter and me laughed, then I continued, \"The furniture company is coming at 2 p.m., and we need help with the lifting.\"\n\n\"Gotcha. See you then.\" He hung up.\n\n### Chapter 19\n\n# The Plan\n\nI hung up the phone and told AJ we should head back over to his place and Scooter would be there in an hour. As we closed up the shelter, AJ mentioned that his parents had bought a bucket of chicken the night before and that it was still half full. Sweet! Lunch was now taken care of.\n\nI hadn't really thought about that—I couldn't exactly walk in my front door and start raiding the fridge without getting caught by the guard. For a brief moment, I wondered if Tamara had figured out I wasn't in my room. Boy, this plan better work; I didn't know what I would do if I went home empty-handed. As it was, I was going to be in deep trouble, but I hoped catching some bad guys would at least earn me a little credit.\n\nAfter a very satisfying lunch of all-you-can-eat fried chicken and a two-liter of soda, AJ and me decided it was time to get back to work. We took the nicest couch from the living room and moved it to the back porch. I make it sound like it was simple, but it wasn't. It was really heavy and hard for us to move in the first place, but then we had to turn it on its side in order to get it out the back door. Needless to say, by the time we got it on the back porch, we had no desire to do anything but sit on the couch and watch SPUD talk to himself while he slept in his house on the other side of the lawn.\n\nAbout that time, we heard a loud clang on the side of the house. We both jumped. But our jitters quickly subsided when Scooter walked around the corner. He started laughing at us as we tried to compose ourselves. The clang had come from him slamming shut the wood gate that separated the fenced-in backyard from the front.\n\n\"Oh good, Scoot, you're here.\" I tried to play down the fact that my heart was still beating out of my chest. \"Could you help me take down the clothesline?\"\n\nAJ's backyard had two T-shaped metal posts—one on each side of the yard—and stretched in between them was a very strong plastic-coated steel cable, which was used for a clothesline. The clothesline looked like two cables stretched between the arms of the two T-posts, but it was actually one long cable that was tied off on one end, stretched across the yard, looped through the post on the other end, and then stretched back to the starting post again. And this cable was strong, too. I won't admit to you how I happen to know just how strong it is, but let's just say it can suspend several bicycles and junior-high boys in mid-air as if they were nothing.\n\nAnyway, since inside the plastic sheath was an actual cable, it was a lot harder to \"untie\" than I thought. It actually required some pliers and wrenches that we were lucky to find in AJ's garage without a lot of searching.\n\nWhile we worked to \"untie\" the cable from the clothesline, I explained my plan. We were going to take the cable we were currently untying and tie it around one of the roof supports on the back of AJ's house. The other end, we would tie to a tree just outside the back fence. AJ would use this as a sort of zip-line escape route when the time was right.\n\nAt first, though, AJ would stay outside and work on the landscaping in the front yard, waiting for the furniture truck to show up. When they did, he would explain to them that he worked for Mr. Mathisen and that Mathisen said they could come right around to the back porch and pick up the furniture.\n\nAJ would then lead them through the gate to the backyard. After they went through the gate, AJ would make sure to lock the gate so that they couldn't go back out that way. SPUD of course would go crazy, but he would still be caged up in his doghouse. The men would feel uneasy, but they'd relax once they saw the dog was locked up.\n\nAfter the guys picked up the couch to take it through the gate, AJ would then use an old T-shirt or something to slide down the clothesline, over the back fence, and out of sight. Then Scooter, who would be hiding behind the back fence where the ladder was located, would somehow free SPUD, who would go crazy and scare the daylights out of the furniture movers and keep them busy until the police came.\n\nThe police would come at the perfect time, of course, because I would be watching the whole thing from inside the house and would time the phone call just right. The guys would be trapped because the only way to get out of the backyard would be to jump the fence. But who would risk that with an angry pit bull about to bite you in the rear? We all agreed it was a pretty solid idea. If we'd only known how much it could go wrong.\n\nAJ crawled up on the roof to get a better angle at tying the one end of the cable to the eaves of the roof. That was the easy part. We then had to hop the fence and find a tree that had some branches high enough to tie the other end to. The hardest part was actually trying to get all the slack out of the line. It took AJ and me pulling as hard as we could to get the slack out while Scooter tightened the tie down with the wrench.\n\nNext came the fun part: we had to make sure it worked, right? AJ found an old, greasy shirt in the garage and came back out to the porch. There was a small stack of firewood on the back porch next to his dad's prized barbeque grill. He stood on a couple pieces of firewood, reached up, and tossed the T-shirt over the cable. Grabbing a handful of T-shirt hanging over each side, he said, \"Here goes nothing,\" and jumped.\n\nThe clothesline didn't sag too badly, and AJ zipped across the backyard— _Crash_! He smacked the top of the back fence. A couple of the planks creaked and cracked with the collision. He missed clearing the fence by about three inches, so Scooter suggested he grab higher on the T-shirt next time.\n\nIn order to do this, AJ had to sort of jump and grab the T-shirt at the same time. Much to his enjoyment, this meant AJ started with a little more height and a lot more speed. It was a good thing he cleared the fence this time, because it would've really hurt if he'd hit the fence going that fast.\n\nAJ was whooping and hollering as he climbed back over the fence. He insisted he do it one more time \"just to be sure,\" but I knew it was just because he was having so much fun. But he did do it once more and cleared the fence again. AJ had had his fun; it was time to move on.\n\nScooter came up with a pretty simple design for springing SPUD from his cage when the time was right. The metal door on the doghouse stayed shut because of a small latch that just required someone from the outside to lift up, allowing the metal grate to swing open.\n\nScooter took a piece of fishing line and attached it to the latch, ran it up to the top of the doghouse, where he had attached a small eye bolt, and then ran it through the eye bolt and straight back to the fence. He then threaded the line between two boards in the fence, and on the other side of the fence, he tied it to a small stick. Now, he had a handle with which to pull the string. He tested it a couple times while AJ and me watched.\n\nIt was sort of spooky standing in front of the doghouse. Standing only a few feet away, you really couldn't see the fishing line, so it appeared like the latch just popped up out of the blue, and the door sort of creaked open.\n\n\"Now, the only thing I'm worried about is, what if SPUD doesn't realize the door is unlatched? Oh, wait, I got it!\" He ran off into the woods. We heard him crashing about, and then he appeared at the top of the fence and climbed over. He was holding a bed spring.\n\nPeople were always dumping stuff like old TVs, mattresses, and tires in the woods. I figured he must have found an old mattress and relieved it of one of its springs. Scooter scrunched up the spring and put it near the hinge of the metal grate. He then closed the latch and climbed back over the fence to try one more time.\n\nBecause of the friction, it took a little more pull to work the latch, but as soon as the latch lifted, the door sprang open and even managed to startle SPUD out of his afternoon nap. Yes, this plan was starting to come together nicely. Or so I thought.\n\nLastly came the gate that needed to be locked. After looking at the latching mechanism, we decided the only thing to do was to padlock it from the outside—the way the Seevas would when they went away for long vacations. That required Scooter or me to lock it, since AJ would be inside the fence.\n\nWe decided that I could get from the gate to inside the house a lot easier and quicker than Scooter could get to his spot. Plus, it was a lot more important that Scooter let that dog go free. I checked my watch: 1:30. OK, we had better get set up. Scooter went over to the doghouse and reset the spring on the door. AJ went and found the padlock and handed it to me. I am not sure what he did with the key, but it was already opened so I didn't really worry about it. AJ put the greasy shirt on top of the barbeque grill, where he would be able to grab it quickly for his next wild ride over the fence. Scooter said good luck and then jumped up on the doghouse and climbed over the fence.\n\nMeanwhile, AJ and me went to the front of the house to wait. AJ went into the garage and came out with some hedge clippers and began to clip the shrubs. I decided that if I were to hide and then be accidentally seen, it would raise suspicion, and I didn't want to do that. So I decided to just sit on the front porch and watch AJ trim the hedges—that's what teenage boys do, right? It's harder to pretend to be a \"typical\" teenager than it is to actually be one.\n\nI realized I should probably know where the phone was, so I hopped up and went inside quickly to find the phone. It was sitting on the kitchen counter. I moved it to the small table sitting in the entry way just inside the front door: easy access. Then, I saw the nearly empty two-liter from lunch we'd left on the counter. _Why not?_ I thought. I put the padlock in my pocket and started chugging straight from the two-liter as I opened up the front door.\n\n### Chapter 20\n\n# Not According to Plan\n\nAs soon as I sat down, I could see a big box-truck rumbling down the street. It didn't have the monkey-and-triangles logo, but the shape of the truck told me it was for moving furniture. It slowed as it reached the intersection of Mountain View Court and Mountain View Drive. I could see the two men take a long look down towards Scooter's house—too long. _Gotcha!_ I thought.\n\nThe truck began to move a little faster as it drove past the turnoff for Scooter's house. I could now read the side of the truck. A rather small logo for such a large truck read \"Simplified Furniture Moving.\" The truck abruptly stopped when it realized it was about to pass the correct address, AJ's house. It pulled into the driveway at a very awkward angle.\n\nI guess I always imagined furniture movers would be fat guys who had eaten more than their share of Twinkies, but the two guys who climbed out of the truck were both very fit. The tall and lanky men both wore grey uniforms that had a patch sporting the same logo as the side of the truck. Their sleeves were rolled up to reveal rippling biceps, which probably saw a healthy workout each and every day. My plan sort of depended on these guys being stuck in the fenced-in backyard; these guys looked like they could high-jump the fence if they had to. Gulp.\n\nJust then, a police cruiser pulled to a stop at the intersection of Scooter's street and ours. It had probably just come from Scooter's house; the police had been coming and going that way all morning. The two movers stopped and very slowly began to backpedal towards the truck. The cruiser sat there for a moment, then pulled away and headed away from us, toward the entrance of the housing development. _Don't go far,_ I thought, _we'll be needing you real soon._\n\nThe driver approached AJ, who had stopped his hedge-clipping, and asked if Mr. Mathisen was home.\n\n\"Oh, yeah, he's actually upstairs, trying to nap. He said you guys might be showing up and that I should just show you to the back porch. That's where the furniture is that you guys are supposed to take.\"\n\nI nervously took a swig of my two-liter as the guy who had not been driving stared at me. I tried to nonchalantly say hello with a head nod. It must have worked because he gave a slight smile.\n\n\"Well, show us the way,\" the driver said.\n\nAJ took them around the corner and opened the gate. SPUD immediately began barking his head off and clawing at the gate trying get out. \"Quiet, SPUD!\" AJ yelled as they walked through the gate, and, of course, SPUD did not obey.\n\nAs soon as I heard the gate slam, I peered around the corner: no one. I ran up to the gate and clicked the padlock on the latch and then hurried back around to the front of the house. I was about to walk up the front steps when I saw some concrete landscaping blocks sitting under the steps. AJ's mom had begun to make a flower bed but had not finished the project. I grabbed a block and tucked it up behind the rear tire. I figured that would slow them down a little bit if they happened to get away from SPUD and try to make a break for it.\n\nI opened the front door, grabbed the cordless phone, and crawled over to the spot where I could see the porch out the back window without being seen in return. What I saw made me drop the phone.\n\nThe little cover on the back of the phone popped off as the phone hit the hard tile floor, and—just my luck—the batteries fell out and rolled across the floor and out of sight. I looked up again, and there was AJ, white as a ghost, watching in horror as the two men used box knives to tear his parents' expensive couch to shreds.\n\nThey had decided not to take the couch with them but to just tear it open and find the necklace! What would they do to AJ once they realized the necklace wasn't even there?\n\nApparently, AJ was thinking the same thing, because he began to back up slowly towards the barbeque. Finally, when the man nearest him stuck his head way down in the couch to get a better look, AJ decided that was his only chance.\n\nHe grabbed the T-shirt off the grill, jumped up on the firewood, threw the T-shirt over the clothesline, and jumped. He was a good fifteen feet away from the back porch before the men even knew what had happened.\n\nAs he picked up speed, he yelled, \"Now, Scoot!\" Suddenly, the metal grate on the doghouse sprang open, and out charged a very angry pit bull. SPUD charged towards the men on the porch.\n\nJust then, AJ reached the fence— _Crash!_ Splinters flew everywhere as he failed to clear the fence. Apparently, in his excitement, AJ forgot to grab hold of the T-shirt close to the clothesline, and those few inches made all the difference. AJ had managed to lift his feet and get them over the fence, but his rear didn't make it.\n\nNow AJ hung upside down on the fence, facing back towards two very angry bad guys, his pants apparently stuck on the fence. He wailed in pain and began to yell, \"Help, help!\"\n\nScooter's hands appeared above the fence. He had run over to help AJ, but there wasn't much he could do from the other side of the fence. At most, he could free AJ's pants, and then AJ would fall into the backyard, where the danger was.\n\nAt first, the men were scared to move off the porch because of SPUD, but they soon realized that SPUD was all bark and no bite. They slowly started moving off the porch, toward the corner where AJ lay hanging upside down like a scared piñata.\n\nWhat could I do? I looked down at the broken phone in my hand. Maybe I could find another phone upstairs? No, that would take too long to find, and then even longer for the police to show up. Plus, I didn't want to take my eyes off the backyard. I thought about banging on the windows and confusing the men to buy AJ a little more time. But how long would that last?\n\nI don't know what I was thinking, but I got up, flung open the back door, jumped onto the back porch, and bluffed. \"Don't worry, AJ! I called the police, and they'll be here any second!\"\n\n_Crash!_ The concrete block I'd put behind the truck's tire rolled into my peripheral vision. A police officer ran into the yard, pointing a gun at the two men. \"I _am_ the police! Freeze!\"\n\nIt was the red-headed police commander from Scooter's house—Commander Coleman! The two men froze in their tracks and raised their hands above their heads. Commander Coleman inched towards them, shouting orders as he went.\n\nJust then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find another officer instructing me to take a seat on the edge of the porch. I spun all the way around to find that the whole downstairs of the house was now swarming with police officers. I began sucking in air as if it was my very first breath—I had been holding my breath ever since I had yelled at AJ.\n\nOnce the bad guys were hauled off in a police cruiser and AJ was released from his upside down prison, Commander Coleman sat the three of us down on the back porch and made us tell him the whole story, starting all the way back at the old man in the mailbox.\n\nHe listened very intently as we bumbled through all that had happened in the past couple weeks. He didn't say a word until we were completely finished; then he spoke up.\n\n\"Well, fellas, I had a hunch that you knew more than you let on back at Scooter's house. And, Tyler, I really thought you were going to do the right thing and tell me right then and there. Anyway, I didn't have any proof, so all I could do was keep a close eye on you. And it looks like I was right.\n\n\"When I saw that moving truck pull into your driveway, my suspicions grew, so I called for backup and doubled back. Apparently, it was just in time. I hope you boys see what can—and will—happen when you try and leave the police in the dark. I'm glad you want to use your skills and start this Enigma detective thing, but that is no substitute for allowing the police to serve and protect you and your neighborhood. Have I made myself clear?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir! Perfectly clear, Sir!\" we all replied together.\n\n\"Good.\" He smiled and walked into the house.\n\nI closed my eyes and laid back on the concrete. It was finally over.\n\n# Epilogue\n\nBut this account of the Enigma Squad is not quite over. This concludes my official report for the police. (After all, they're very familiar with everything that happened from this point on.) But I feel a need—no, an _obligation_ —to complete the story for you and for posterity. That's right, Scooter, you're not the only one who can break out the big words!\n\nAfter the lecture he gave us, the commander drove the three of us over to Scooter's house, and he went up to the house to speak with Scooter's parents while we sat in the car. When he returned to the car, he had us get out and show him the shelter.\n\n_It was our secret headquarters for less than a week,_ we were all thinking. Commander Coleman was going to see the inside so he could recover the necklace, write up a report, and presumably confiscate everything in the shelter.\n\nHe sat on the couch for some time, writing and saying \"Hmm\" a lot. Finally, he stood up, grabbed the necklace, which he had already put in a plastic evidence bag, and said it was time to go. As we stood at the base of the ladder, the commander closed the vault door, turned to us, and said, \"Nice headquarters you got there, boys.\" He winked and then started climbing the ladder.\n\nHe took all three of us boys down to the police station, where AJ and me had the long, dreaded wait for our parents to get back in town and come get us. Once all three sets of parents (except for my dad, of course, who was still out at sea) were at the station, the commander told them the whole story just as we'd told him, and much to our dismay, he even told them all about the shelter, describing how it had electricity and running water and even a phone.\n\nI looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Parks. I was curious to see how surprised they must be to find out that this whole time, there was a bomb shelter in their backyard and an old man living in it! Mrs. Parks just kept saying \"oh my\" over and over, but Mr. Parks' expression surprised me. With every detail Commander Coleman gave, his eyes got bigger and bigger. But it was not a look of surprise so much as one of amusement—like he was thrilled and enjoyed every detail of the story. I started to wonder if maybe he knew about the shelter all along. One day, when the time is right, I may have to ask him.\n\nWhen Commander Coleman had finished with everything he had written in his notes, he asked if any of the parents had any questions.\n\nMrs. Parks did. \"So what should we do with all the stuff in the shelter? And what should we do with the shelter itself? Seal it up?\"\n\nMr. Parks answered with a big smile before Commander Coleman could, \"Well, Honey, it sounds like the stuff in the shelter belongs to the boys. It seems that all of it was given to them. And the shelter sounds like it belongs to them now, too. Gee, I wish I had had a secret hideout like that when I was their age!\" He said this last sentence with a wink and a grin directed toward Scooter. Now I knew who Scooter had learned that look from.\n\nThat seemed to satisfy Mrs. Parks' question, and I could see she had already lost interest in the matter. Was it really possible that our now semi-secret headquarters would remain ours?\n\nCommander Coleman went on to praise us for our bravery and reprimand us for our stupidity in the same breath. We got the bad guys, but it wasn't necessary to put ourselves in danger to do so. He then promised to give us updates on the case as they came. Then he let us go.\n\nWell, the police were done with us, but our parents were just getting started. Scooter's parents grounded him for a month, but knowing them, he will be out in a couple weeks for good behavior. AJ's parents grounded him for two weeks from afterschool activities that involved Scooter or me. Poor guy, stuck in his house with a sixty-inch flatscreen and a zillion channels at his fingertips. I'm sure it will be real torture.\n\nThe school found out we made an international phone call from a classroom, and as punishment, they decided to make us pay for it by helping the janitor after school for the following week. AJ tried to say he would pay for it with his allowance money, but his parents said he would have to \"grin and bear\" his punishment like Scooter and me.\n\nA couple days later, the Commander stopped by Scooter's house to inform them that the two guys we attempted to catch admitted to trashing the Parks' house. They made a deal and gave up the home of Mr. Snelling in the Vancouver area in exchange for less jail time. When the authorities raided Snelling's home, they found enough evidence to link him to most of the thefts of TRUBE jewelry. But Snelling was nowhere to be found.\n\nCommander Coleman also presented Scooter with a check from the jewelry owner for $5,000. It would have been nice to hold that check for a moment. I've never seen that much money. But most of that money is already spent.\n\nAfter paying for a new couch for Mrs. Seeva, a new section of fence and a new gate for Mr. Seeva, and various repairs for the Parks' home, there isn't much left for the Enigma Squad to get excited about.\n\nOh, and me? Yeah, on the way home from the police station, my mom apologized for sort of overreacting to me not checking in when I got off the bus. She asked me to forgive her. I did.\n\nShe then grounded me to the house for three weeks. I admit, I deserve it. She suggested I do something useful during my in-house sentence.\n\nI followed her advice, and as a result, what you have in front of you is two and a half weeks of documenting the first case of the Enigma Squad. Actually, two weeks went by so fast, it really wasn't that bad. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess. But now I am itching to get back out there and start digging for clues.\n\nIn fact, Scooter tells me we already have a new case. Kids on the bus claim that every night they see strange glowing lights coming from the house that's for sale at the end of the street. Sounds like a great case for the Enigma Squad to me. At the very least, we have to go take a look, right?\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\nThe Law of Attraction\n\nby\n\n### N.M. Silber\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\nTHE LAW OF ATTRACTION, COPYRIGHT © 2013 BY N.M. SILBER\n\nALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.\n\n_Mendelssohn Levy Publishing_\n\n_Philadelphia_\n\n_http://mendlevypub.com/_\n\n_First Mendelssohn Levy eBook Edition August 2013_\n\n_First Mendelssohn Levy trade paperback edition, August 2013_\n\n_Edited by:_\n\n_Julie Roberts_\n\n_isillote1@gmail.com_\n\n_NOTICE: This is an adult contemporary romance novel and contains explicit love scenes and mature language. It is intended for readers over the age of eighteen._\n\n_This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental._\n\nLibrary of Congress Control Number: 2013911094\n\n_Silber, N.M._\n\n_The Law of Attraction / N.M. Silber – 1st edition_\n\nISBN 978-0-9895984-1-5 eBook edition\n\nISBN 978-0-9895984-0-8 Print edition\n\n1. _Romance - Fiction_\n\n_Cover Design by Carrie Spencer_\n\n_Formatting by Donnie Light_\n\n**_  \n_**\n\n**_  \n_**\n\n**_This book is dedicated to my family._**\n\n_**I know that it's your job to love me,**_\n\n_**but you do it especially well.**_\n\n**_(Don't read the dirty parts.)_**\n\n# CHAPTER ONE\n\n### IN THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS OF PHILADELPHIA COUNTY,  \nPENNSYLVANIA\n\n**Commonwealth v. Harris**\n\nI stood in front of the jury delivering my closing argument in a shoplifting case that my client had insisted on taking to trial against my advice and despite my begging.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, we live in a country where every citizen has a right to trial by his peers. The prosecution must carry its burden of proof beyond a reasonable doubt, the _highest_ legal standard of proof possible in this great country of ours. We are here today because my client is a citizen, and he has a right to a trial if he wants one.\"\n\nWe lawyers often couldn't let people know what we were really thinking. I often pictured the things that I would _like_ to say and do, though, and I called those thoughts \"inner-Gabrielle,\" for lack of a better term. Right now inner-Gabrielle was sighing and rolling her eyes because I was breaking out the old \"right to a trial defense\" again. It's what we public defenders did when we found ourselves addressing a jury without the one thing that would come in most handy under the circumstances – an actual defense. After all, you had to say _something._ Technically, my client did have a defense in this case. It was just _so_ stupid that nobody in their right mind would believe it, so I figured what the hell, it never hurt to bring up the Constitution.\n\n\"You heard Mr. Harris tell you that he simply made a mistake,\" I went on, \"one that perhaps you yourself have made. You go into a store, expecting to pick up only one item, and so you don't bother with a shopping basket. Then you see another item that you need. And then another.\"\n\nI paused and gave the jurors a friendly smile to show them how very reasonable all of this was. I hoped that it said: \"See, citizens of Philadelphia, who have put off your obligations, hired babysitters, and missed work; I'm a nice person, so you shouldn't hate me or my jackass client for wasting your valuable time.\" After all, this was all a big misunderstanding, right?\n\n\"Mr. Harris claims that's what happened to him on that day in May. He went to the store for one item and then saw another that he needed and then another. Rather than go all the way back to the front of the store for a basket, he simply stored some items in his clothing, fully intending to pay for them.\"\n\nI looked into each juror's eyes as I slowly paced in front of the jury box. I could see that some of them actually wanted to believe me. That was nice of them. Obviously, not being clinically brain-dead, they didn't believe me, but they _wanted_ to, and it was the thought that counted.\n\n\"That's his story ladies and gentlemen, and he has a constitutional right to tell it. If you feel the prosecution has not proven their case beyond a reasonable doubt you must acquit. Thank you.\"\n\nI sat down with as much dignity as I could muster, as a tired-looking, fifty-something, assistant district attorney rose to his feet and addressed the jury. He cleared his throat and I could see that he held a list in his hands. Inner-Gabrielle cringed. _Oh shit._\n\n\"Mr. Harris had three boxes of Melba toast, a can of smoked oysters, a wheel of Gouda cheese, two bunches of grapes, a package of smoked salmon, a can of sardines, a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a can of cocktail weenies in his pants. I simply ask you to please use common sense. Thank you.\"\n\nHe sat down again as I just continued to stare straight ahead doing my best, \"Did someone say something?\" look. (They teach you that one in law school.) The judge charged the jury and they left to deliberate as Mr. Harris went out for a smoke. I stood and gathered my things as the public defenders and the assistant district attorneys working on the next cases set up. I had seen two familiar faces among those waiting, so I was already prepared for the humiliation that I knew would be forthcoming. Adam Roth and Braden Pierce were good-looking young prosecutors – very good-looking. We usually worked the same courtroom these days and both of them liked to tease me. It fact, it seemed to be their favorite pastime. I didn't mind terribly, though, as I was deeply in lust with Mr. Pierce.\n\n\"A can of cocktail weenies.\" Mr. Roth fired the first shot.\n\n\"It would be a shame to have to hurt someone as pretty as you, Mr. Roth.\" I straightened my papers and tried to look busy. (They teach you that one in law school too.)\n\n\"Sounds like it was going to be quite a party,\" Mr. Pierce said.\n\n\"Feeling lucky, Mr. Pierce? I'm not afraid to take you down too, you know. I work with two hundred criminal defense lawyers.\" I saw him try to contain his laughter as I heard my friend, Jessica's, voice behind me. I turned around, eager to see a sympathetic face.\n\n\"I just tried one where my client claimed he was urinating in a back alley. Turns out he was jerking off on a street corner. The prosecution had twenty-one witnesses. They were nuns.\" She looked pained.\n\n\"I understand,\" I said gently, patting her on the back.\n\n\"Did you put on the 'my client has a right to a trial defense' too?\" Mr. Roth asked.\n\n\"I loved it when she said 'that's his story and he has a constitutional right to tell it.' That was a classic moment in American jurisprudence,\" Mr. Pierce added, coming over to the defense table and leaning against it immediately next to where I was standing. I noticed that he had a very nice scent — spicy, with a trace of mint. Mr. Pierce even smelled attractive.\n\n\"I'm glad that we amuse you guys. You have no idea what it's like to have to stand there and say that with a straight face.\" I turned quickly to face him and my mouth almost popped open. _Christ on a cracker!_ I had been looking at this man across a courtroom for months, and I had even sat across a table from him when negotiating a deal, but I had never been _this_ close to him before. Wow. I realized that I was just staring at him stupidly and I managed to pull myself together. I really had to get laid soon.\n\n\"Poor Ms. Ginsberg,\" he said and smiled, looking at me curiously.\n\nThat smile made my girl parts warm. Mr. Pierce was too attractive for my own good. With him standing right here next to me, I could see that his eyes were a gorgeous sky blue ringed in indigo and his hair wasn't really blonde, but actually a shade of light brown with golden highlights. I couldn't help it, I started imagining how he could make me feel better with a nice massage and a warm bath together, maybe a glass of wine and some sexy music... \"Yeah well, maybe you should comfort me...\" I mumbled distractedly. My eyes widened. Jesus, Gabrielle! \"Confront! Maybe you should not... confront me because I can be\"... I searched for something... \"dangerous.\" _Huh?_ I rolled my eyes and felt my face get hot.\n\n\"I don't doubt it,\" he said with a cocky grin. \"I think that _confronting_ you could be very dangerous.\"\n\n\"I just hope they threw the grapes away,\" Mr. Roth said, completely snapping me out of my lust-fueled reverie. I had finished straightening up my own papers, so I started straightening up everyone else's papers too. I was tidying up the whole damned courtroom and Mr. Pierce was watching me do it with an extremely amused look on his face. I wondered what _he_ was thinking — probably, \"I wonder if she's off her meds.\"\n\nThe jury was back in ten minutes. Shockingly, they didn't believe Mr. Harris. I went back to my office in defeat. Inner-Gabrielle went out for a drink.\n\n# CHAPTER TWO\n\nI sat there preparing my cases for the next day. I had to figure out a way to convince a six foot five, three hundred pound biker named \"Tiny\" that nobody was going to believe that he had just \"found\" 27 thirty-inch HD flat screen televisions in an alley behind his apartment. One had to tread lightly when telling someone like Tiny that even his lawyer thought he was full of shit. I wasn't really looking forward to it, or any of the sixteen other cases I had scheduled. Luckily, that was a light work day.\n\nJessica finally got back an hour later, looking like she had gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson. It had probably just been Mr. Roth being a dick, though. He did that from time to time. (Daily.) Jess and I had both begun working for the Defender Association at the same time almost a year ago and we had been office-mates from day one. As of a few months ago, we also shared an apartment in a building a few blocks from our office in the upscale Rittenhouse Square District.\n\nTo be perfectly honest, I didn't really need to have a roommate. My parents were very successful business people, so I guess you could say that I came from a wealthy family. I liked knowing that I could support myself, though, so I mostly tried to live on my own salary. Unfortunately, that worried my parents, but then everything worried my parents. They worried about me working with criminals. They worried about me living in a different city. They worried because I wasn't good at financial stuff. Most of all, though, they worried that I would eventually end up living alone with a bunch of cats and a couple of million dollars in a shoebox under my bed.\n\nMy social life wasn't exactly thriving at the moment. I did go out, but only if I were surrounded by friends because, frankly, I had spent enough nights fending off drunken players at bars and clubs. I didn't want to date anyone from my office, and I wasn't really meeting anyone new, so I hadn't been out with a guy in a few months. That was going to have to change, though, because I couldn't live like this anymore. My job created a lot of tension and I needed an outlet. I had to find a sex partner that didn't require batteries.\n\nThe problem was that the only guy who I was interested in was Mr. Pierce. We'd been working that courtroom together for months now, and while Mr. Roth could be a pain in the ass, Mr. Pierce just did his job. He always offered me fair plea bargains, although sometimes he made me work hard for them, and with him it was always a good clean fight, even if it made me want to be a dirty girl. Battling in court could be pretty stimulating to tell you the truth. Sometimes there's a fine line between pissed off and turned on.\n\nI thought about him way too much though. I was becoming like a crazy fan girl. I might as well have hung a poster of him over my bed. Unfortunately, I was hardly his only fan. Everybody knew that he was a big time player. I didn't want a one night stand and I didn't want to share, so it seemed like Mr. Pierce was off-limits. Now, if someone could just explain that to inner-Gabrielle. And my vagina.\n\nAnd then, of course, if that wasn't bad enough, there was also another issue; he reminded me of someone from my past who I didn't exactly associate with happy memories. That one wasn't a deal breaker, but it certainly didn't boost my self-confidence with him. It was a long story, but back in college I managed to lose my virginity in a one-night-stand with another player. I know – brilliant Gabrielle. Right? Wait, it gets even better, I decided to tell him the next day that I wanted to be his girlfriend. Let's just say he wasn't really on board with that plan. Can you say humiliation? Anyway, I'm not sure why, but something about Mr. Pierce reminded me of the player who deflowered me.\n\n\"Shake it off, Gab, tomorrow's another day,\" Jess said, breezing in and dropping a pile of case files that looked like it weighed more than she did.\n\n\"Is that supposed to cheer me up?\" I asked, clearing a path on the floor so she could get to her desk. I tended to spread out when I worked.\n\n\"I would think you would be pretty cheerful already with all the attention a certain prosecutor has been paying you lately.\" She threw herself down in her chair, opened her bottom desk drawer and put her feet up. Okay, that got my attention. I hadn't told anyone about my little infatuation, not even her, but I guess that ogling him and then asking him to comfort me hadn't exactly been subtle.\n\n\"And what prosecutor would that be?\" I asked lightly, sitting back on my heels.\n\n\"The beautiful blonde Braden Pierce,\" she said, smirking.\n\n\"Why would Mr. Heavy-hitter be paying attention to me?\" I went back to sorting piles on the floor and tried to act nonchalant.\n\n\"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're good-looking and smart and funny?\"\n\n\"Well, then he's just looking for a good time. I hear he doesn't date; he just hooks-up. Anyway, you're probably wrong. The women he likes look like Playboy bunnies.\"\n\n\"How do you know?\" _Oh damn!_ Caught by my own big mouth.\n\n\"He's a senator's son. I Googled him once.\"\n\n\"Hey wait...\"\n\n\"Wait what? I know what you're thinking but I'm not a crazy stalker chick! I was just curious.\"\n\n\"Not that! The other thing. Screw the Playboy bunnies!\"\n\n\"I'm sure he did.\"\n\n\"Like you're not attractive? Look at you with the golden brown hair and the big hazel eyes. You also have big boobs and a nice ass which tend to be popular features with the male sex. The drunken business boys are on you like a bad rash every time we go out.\"\n\n\"Thanks, but I'm just saying that he seems to have a type and I'm not a spray tan blonde with a two inch waist like the ones I've seen him with in pictures. Some of them were so Barbie-like I'm not even sure they had bendable legs.\"\n\n\"Type or no type, I still say that he wants you.\" She put her feet back on the floor and started clearing a space in front of her and stacking files.\n\n\"Yeah maybe for an extremely short-term relationship, like however long it would take to screw me. I don't want to have a one night stand with a guy I face in court every day. To tell you the truth, I don't really want to have a one night stand with anybody, no matter how hot they are.\"\n\n\"So maybe he'd be willing to invest more than one night for you. We should ask Mark.\" Mark Patterson was a fellow public defender who had been friends with Mr. Pierce and Mr. Roth in law school. They had managed to remain close even though they worked on opposite sides of the courtroom now. Together they were probably the three sexiest guys and the three biggest womanizers in the Philadelphia criminal court system, but Mark was still pretty cool just to hang out with, and he and Jess were really good friends.\n\n\"No! He would say something to him and then if you _were_ wrong I would feel so embarrassed that I wouldn't be able to do my job. Besides, he would see me as just another one of his groupies and I want him to respect me.\" I was already having flashbacks to college. One adventure in complete humiliation was more than enough, thanks.\n\n\"And what if I were right?\"\n\n\"Then he could always ask me out, couldn't he? It's not like it would be hard to track me down. I see him practically every day. I wouldn't hold my breath though. I think he's pretty content randomly screwing Barbie dolls that he meets in bars and clubs.\"\n\n\"Well, I definitely don't think he would ask you out unless you let him know that you were interested too. Sometimes you act so stand-offish around him.\"\n\n\"I do?\"\n\n\"I know you well enough to realize that you're just attracted to him, but he probably wouldn't know that. Well, he might figure it out after today. You seemed pretty flustered when he came over to talk to you and you did ask him to comfort you.\" She laughed to herself as she started taking notes on a file.\n\n\"Oh God,\" I moaned. \"I'm such an asshole.\"\n\n\"Don't be embarrassed. He always looks at you like he wants to toss you in the jury box and have his wicked way with you. He also keeps moving closer to talk to you. I thought he was going to sit on your lap today and you obviously liked it.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, he smells good,\" I said and paused to think about that for a second. \"I need to get out more. I'm sniffing the prosecutors.\"\n\n**Commonwealth v. O'Neal**\n\nThe next day arrived, just as Jess had threatened, and once again I found myself up against Mr. Pierce in court, wishing that he had me up against the courtroom wall. He was becoming increasingly distracting, especially now that she had filled my head with all of her theories that he wanted me too. She was such an enabler sometimes.\n\n\"Okay Ms. Ginsberg,\" Judge Channing said at the conclusion of the preliminary hearing. \"Time for argument. Will we be attempting to amend the Constitution today?\"\n\n\"No, Your Honor. I wouldn't want to become predictable,\" I replied with a smile. Judge Channing wasn't exactly a fan of mine, by the way. \"It's the defense position that the Commonwealth has not made out the charge of attempted homicide. Mr. O'Neal allegedly shot Mr. Anthony in the leg at close range. Clearly if he had intended to kill him he would have aimed higher.\"\n\n\"He would have aimed higher. I see. Mr. Pierce, your response?\"\n\n\"Your Honor, Mr. O'Neal shot Mr. Anthony using a nine millimeter handgun on a crowded street in front of at least thirty witnesses. The Commonwealth has presented sufficient evidence to bind all charges, including attempted homicide, over for trial.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Ms. Ginsberg, I'm going to have to go with Mr. Pierce on this one. The fact that your client is a lousy shot doesn't provide a defense. All charges are held. Schedule it for trial.\" They led my client away and I headed back to the defense table to gather my things. Mr. Pierce came over to hand me the copy of the order. That was different. Prosecutors weren't usually that polite. Instead of walking away he stayed there – so close I had to look up to talk to him. Wow, he was tall.\n\n\"He would have aimed higher?\" he asked with amusement.\n\n\"Look, when you represent a guy who shoots somebody in front of sixty witnesses let's hear what you have to say, okay?\" I turned around and leaned over to put the order in the file and when I turned back I caught him totally checking out my ass.\n\n\"Thirty witnesses,\" he said, and quickly looked up at a group of cops coming in the door. I couldn't help myself, I totally checked out _his_ beautiful body and when he looked back, of course he caught me doing it. I yanked my eyes away from him and cleared my throat.\n\n\"Thirty, sixty. What difference does it make? Were they nuns too, by the way?\" When I glanced back I saw him trying to stifle a laugh.\n\n\"I must admit that I admire your creativity.\" I wondered if he meant it or if he was just teasing me as usual. I looked at him directly again and I saw his eyes drop to the bottom lip I was gnawing on nervously. I couldn't handle the way he was looking at my mouth like that so I turned to gather the papers on the defense table. I was always freaking gathering something when he was around! I really needed to have sex again soon, and God, I hoped that I wasn't thinking out loud again.\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Pierce. I try. I'll be doing a second show later this afternoon. Just wait until you meet Tiny,\" I said, starting to pack up my files. He couldn't hold back anymore. The laughter escaped but he politely covered it with a cough. I glanced up and caught sight of his beautiful mouth and my eyes lingered there. I wanted that mouth on so many parts of my body.\n\n\"Did you say something?\" My gaze flew back up to his eyes. _Shit!_\n\n\"Month. It's been a busy month,\" I mumbled and bit down on my bottom lip to prevent myself from saying anything else out loud. His eyes dropped to my mouth again and they actually seemed to get a little darker. I was starting to sweat and feel a great deal of tension in the room that had nothing to do with Mr. O'Neal's poor aim. I had to get the hell out of there. I went to grab lunch before I grabbed Mr. Pierce and found out if he tasted as good as he smelled. _Jesus!_ I felt like I needed a cold shower.\n\n**Commonwealth v. Kaminsky**\n\nAt one o'clock we were back in front of the judge. \"Okay, Ms. Ginsberg. Can't wait to hear what you're going to come up with this time,\" Judge Channing said. Nothing like a vote of confidence from the judiciary.\n\n\"Your Honor, we all know that retail establishments sometimes discard unwanted or defective merchandise. It was perfectly reasonable for Mr. Kaminsky to have mistakenly believed that the merchandise in question here had been abandoned.\"\n\n\"Uh huh. Mr. Pierce, what do you have to say?\" the judge asked.\n\n\"Your Honor, nobody discards twenty-seven HD flat screen TVs.\"\n\n\"You know, Mr. Pierce, I'm inclined to agree. All charges held for trial.\" Judge Channing banged his gavel and Tiny was escorted away by two rather wary-looking deputies. I was fairly sure Tiny wasn't anybody's bitch in the jail. I headed back to the defense table again.\n\n\"You were right. That was pretty good,\" Mr. Pierce said, handing me the order again. His hand brushed against mine this time and I jumped like I had just stuck my finger in a socket. He looked at me like I might be really be dangerous after all. Nice, Gabrielle – very subtle.\n\n\"I predict that I'll be breaking out the 'right to a trial defense' again,\" I said, trying to not act any weirder than I already was.\n\n\"You don't think he'll be willing to plead guilty?\"\n\n\"Probably not. He firmly believes that claiming to be a complete idiot will get him off.\"\n\n\"You're very funny,\" he said, leaning against the defense table right next to me again.\n\n\"Mr. Pierce, in my line of work, one either laughs or cries and I would rather laugh.\" Oh Jesus H. Christ! I sounded like a country western song.\n\n\"You can call me Braden.\" He was looking at me kind of intently like he was curious to see how I would react. I felt my cheeks getting warmer and my heart started pounding like a drummer on speed. I was starting to wonder if I had high blood pressure or something. This couldn't be normal.\n\n\"You can call me Gabrielle then,\" I said, staring directly into those incredible blue eyes and hoping that my face didn't look as pink as it felt. We were only inches away from each other and I could feel the heat from his body. I was looking up at him and he was looking down at me and I felt that tension there again, but just then the judge called out.\n\n\"Mr. Pierce, I hate to break up your conversation with Ms. Ginsberg but we need a prosecutor to be involved in this prosecution.\" I looked over at the bench and saw that there was already another case waiting.\n\n\"Goodbye, Gabrielle,\" he said with a smile. Why did my name sound so damned sexy when he said it? I placed my wheeling briefcase full of files on the floor. My toned muscles didn't just come from walking everywhere. I could probably bench-press a Buick.\n\n\"Goodbye, Braden,\" I muttered and made my escape.\n\n* * *\n\nIt was Friday and I wouldn't get to see him again for at least two days. I headed back to my office, probably the only one of the two hundred plus attorneys who worked there who wasn't thrilled that the weekend had finally arrived. I contemplated my plans for the next day. I could rearrange the kitchen cupboards, maybe catch a matinee, slit my wrists. The possibilities were endless. Jess was already at her desk when I got back and I unpacked my files as I thought more about my little exchange with Mr. Pierce — Braden.\n\n\"Mr. Pierce told me to call him by his first name and he also told me that I was funny.\"\n\n\"Oh really?\" she asked, spinning around in her chair and sounding diabolically intrigued like some evil genius in a James Bond movie. \"So admit it, maybe I was right.\" She had the \"I told you so\" look written all over her face.\n\n\"I don't want to hear it until I have some proof. Thanks to you planting your dubious theories in my head, I've gone from just lusting for him to pining for him too. I'm like Pepe Le Pew on Acid every time he gets near me now,\" I said, rolling my eyes.\n\n\"We could go out to O'Malley's with the other public defenders later,\" she suggested. \"A lot of prosecutors go too on Fridays. Maybe he'll be there.\"\n\n\"And what then? I can gaze at him from afar over a pitcher of beer?\"\n\n\"You can flirt with him. Maybe you could get something going that way.\"\n\n\"Because you know that picking up a guy in a bar is the best way to start a healthy romantic relationship. I'm not looking for a one-nighter Jess.\"\n\n\"You don't have to go home with him. Just flirt with him and see what happens.\"\n\n\"Just flirt with him and see what happens – those are famous last words if I ever heard them.\"\n\n# CHAPTER THREE\n\nO'Malley's managed to seem upscale and still feel like the fun dive bar that every lawyer everywhere had hung out in when they were in law school. There was a large old-fashioned, central bar area, surrounded by tables lining the walls. When the place started filling up and the jukebox was playing, people tended to crowd into the open space between the bar and the tables to socialize and dance.\n\nWe had just walked in, and were navigating through the crowd, when we passed near a table surrounded by prosecutors laughing and drinking. We were en route to a table surrounded by public defenders laughing and drinking. After a week in the criminal justice system, laughing and drinking were necessary components for maintaining one's sanity. We had almost passed the prosecutors' table when I heard Mr. Roth call out.\n\n\"Well if it isn't Ms. Albright and Ms. Ginsberg!\" We paused and moved in closer to them. My stomach started contortions that would have made the U.S. Diving Team proud when I saw Braden sitting there, leaning back in his chair with his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie and collar loose. You could sell postcards of that sight, baby.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. Roth,\" Jess called out above the noise. \"Drowning your sorrows?\"\n\n\"Celebrating my victories, Ms. Albright. Perhaps you don't recall my impressive courtroom performance earlier?\" Mr. Roth was also a very handsome guy but in a different way than Mr. Pierce. Braden was a golden boy but Adam had dark good looks – dark hair, brown eyes, and always just a touch of five o'clock shadow. He was one of those guys who always looked like he may have come directly to work from some woman's bed. And in Adam's case that was a definite possibility.\n\n\"Someone catch me. I'm going to swoon,\" I shouted dryly. And one can actually shout dryly – trust me. Mr. Roth needed to occasionally have a woman fail to worship him and I was happy to oblige.\n\n\"Such a saucy mouth on this girl,\" he said with a laugh, looking over at Braden. Their colleagues paused in their revelries to pay attention to this little exchange. Two attractive public defender women had ventured close to a table full of semi-drunk male prosecutors. That didn't happen every day. It was like one of those scenes from a wildlife documentary. You know, the ones where the baby gazelle decides to drink from the nice cool stream right next to the pride of hungry lions.\n\n\"You think I have a saucy mouth huh?\" I decided that now was as good a time as any if I wanted to try my hand at some flirting. \"What do you think of my mouth, Braden?\" I asked, turning to him. By some small miracle I actually managed to sound calm and even a bit playful. The guardian angel of the socially awkward was obviously smiling down on me.\n\n\"I rather like it,\" he answered with a flirtatious smile, as his eyes very obviously dropped to my lips, this time in a practiced way that probably had women dropping their panties for him left and right under other circumstances. I heard some suggestive laughter and there were a few comments from his friends that I didn't quite catch – probably for the best. Dusty Springfield was singing _Son of a Preacher Man_ in the background and it helped to set the saucy mood.\n\n\"There you go, Mr. Roth,\" I said, as I walked over to stand right in front of him, leaned down, and looked him directly in the eye, our faces inches apart. \"Some men can obviously handle my mouth.\" Jess let out a startled laugh behind me. I stood up, smiled and started to walk away. After a second of stunned silence, their table erupted into laughter. _Wow, I really was kind of saucy wasn't I?_ I was several feet away when I heard Braden call out and my heart slammed into my chest wall.\n\n\"Hey Gabrielle!\" I turned around and quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. He gave a devastatingly sexy smile and then said loudly enough to be heard over the crowd, \"I can handle your sharp tongue too!\" More raucous laughter echoed around him and I dug down deep and found courage that could only be developed after three years of exposure to sadists who enjoyed destroying self-confidence (law professors.)\n\n\"Behave or I'll make you prove it!\" I called back loudly, smiling as if I had issued a challenge, and then I turned back around and kept walking. Mercifully, I didn't trip over anything. That one went over very well at the prosecutors' table, incidentally. I thought for a minute that they were going to either give me a standing ovation or start shoving dollar bills in my stylish but sensible suit skirt. Jess looked over at me with an expression of stunned delight.\n\n\"Who are you and what have you done with Gabrielle Ginsberg?\"\n\n\"So, that was kind of flirty, wasn't it?\"\n\n\"Kind of? That gets at least an R rating,\" she giggled. I looked up and saw Mark waving at us.\n\n\"Hey Jessica, Gabrielle!\" He had obviously heard that little exchange because he was looking over at their table and laughing with obvious surprise. But then most of the crowd had probably heard it. Jess and I changed course and headed over to join Mark at his end of the table.\n\n\"Having fun?\" he asked.\n\n\"It's certainly been interesting so far,\" Jess answered, giving me a slightly bewildered look.\n\n\"Have some beer. I'm driving,\" Mark said. We filled up two plastic cups from a pile sitting next to a pitcher. \"So, what's this about Braden and your tongue, Gabrielle?\"\n\n\"They were teasing me and I just teased back a little,\" I said dismissively, taking a sip of beer.\n\nJess told him about our little back and forth exchange and he laughed again and looked at me, like he didn't recognize me and he was trying to figure out who I was.\n\n\"So, flirting with Braden, huh?\" he asked, sounding both amused and surprised.\n\n\"Just being saucy.\" I smiled.\n\n\"Oh she was totally flirting with him,\" Jess corrected, giving me a conspiratorial look. She was so proud of me – I could just tell.\n\nMark looked back over at the other table. They were off to my side, and I didn't want to turn and look directly at them, but he seemed to be sharing some kind of unspoken communication with someone over there. I thought I saw him nod subtly and shrug. I wished that I knew what they were saying to each other. I took a deep breath and sat there for a second to let what I had just done sink in.\n\nI couldn't believe that I had actually pulled it off! I had flirted with Braden Pierce. Geek girl had flirted with gorgeous guy, senator's son, the man who had his own fan club among the members of the Women's Bar Association. I felt mad, bad and dangerous to know! I had a feeling that it would be one of those moments I would relive mentally for years. Like the time that I had refused to pay the ten cent fine because the library had closed early the day before and the drop box was locked. In the world of a ten-year-old that was Civil Disobedience at its finest. (I was such a rebel.) I might never actually get to go out with this incredibly hot man, but for one brief moment in time, I was the sexy confident woman in the room. Inner-Gabrielle pumped her fist in victory. It was Miller Time.\n\nNow that the adrenaline was hitting me full force, I was feeling a lot of nervous tension and without really thinking about it I downed a couple of cups of beer in rapid succession. That's a nice way of saying that I probably could have won a chugging contest at a frat house. Not long after I finished the second one, a waitress stopped over and handed me a piece of paper. It was a note. She told me that if I wanted to reply she would deliver it for me. By the look she was giving me I had a feeling that a monetary donation to her effort would be involved. I looked down and read while she waited, shifting her weight back and forth impatiently.\n\nDear Gabrielle,\n\nI've never seen you this saucy before. You're not under the influence are you?\n\nSincerely,\n\nBraden T. Pierce, Esq.\n\nAssistant District Attorney\n\nOh great! He thought that I was drunk! So much for confident and sexy. I showed the note to Jess and Mark who found it highly entertaining. In fact, Mark almost did a spit take. That doesn't just happen in movies. Trust me. I thought he was _done_ drinking by the way. He looked up at their table and laughed openly. Oh, he thought that was funny did he? I responded directly below and gave it to the waitress to deliver, along with a generous tip.\n\nDear Braden,\n\nYou've never seen me outside of court before. Are you implying that I am behaving in a drunk and disorderly manner?\n\nRegards,\n\nGabrielle S. Ginsberg, Esq.\n\nPublic Defender\n\nJust then another group of public defenders from our office came pouring through the door. Someone called out to inform us one of our colleagues had won a trial and it was time to drink and bond. I sighed and prepared. Here came the shots. I heard laughter coming from Braden's table when my reply arrived. About five minutes later, the waitress, who was probably making some good money with this, had returned with another note written below the other two.\n\nDear Gabrielle,\n\nI assure you that I am making no such implication. In fact, I like the way you're behaving very much. I'm, frankly, intrigued by your threat to make me prove that I can handle your tongue. I must confess it makes me want to misbehave.\n\nBest,\n\nBraden T. Pierce, Esq.\n\nAssistant District Attorney.\n\n_Oh shit!_ He was flirting back – big time! Now what? I hadn't planned this far ahead. Actually, I hadn't planned at all. I was winging it and flying blind here. While I desperately tried to think of how to answer that, a round of tequila shots arrived at our table along with salt and lime.\n\n\"Salud,\" Jess said and downed her tequila. I remembered again why I didn't usually go out with my colleagues on Friday nights. When there were more than two hundred lawyers in your office someone was always winning a trial.\n\n\"Viva Mexico,\" I said and drank mine distractedly in one swallow.\n\n\"Take mine, Gab.\"\n\n\"I can't, Mark. I hardly ever drink anymore and I just had two cups of beer and downed a shot of tequila within less than half an hour.\"\n\n\"You're not driving. Don't waste it. There are people going to bed sober tonight all over the world.\"\n\n\"Fine. Speedy Gonzales,\" I said making the only other Mexican-themed toast that popped into my head, and drank his shot too. I vowed that it would be the last one and I didn't care if someone came in who had just won the trial of the century.\n\n\"Are you trying to get her drunk?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"Maybe.\" He laughed.\n\nFinally I came up with something to write. I was going to have to sell some real estate to raise enough money to tip the impatient waitress who had been standing there the whole time.\n\nDear Braden,\n\nI wouldn't want to be responsible for encouraging an officer of the court to misbehave in public. That might actually be disorderly conduct – among other things.\n\nYours Truly,\n\nGabrielle S. Ginsberg, Esq.\n\nPublic Defender\n\nMy response was another big hit. I heard more laughter and comments that I couldn't make out. Actually, I could make out less and less of what was going on around me. My head was starting to feel a little fuzzy. Jess and Mark had been checking out this ongoing correspondence with great amusement. A few minutes later we received a reply from the other table.\n\nDear Gabrielle,\n\nWould you like to encourage me to misbehave more privately?\n\nWarmly,\n\nBraden T. Pierce, Esq.\n\nAssistant District Attorney\n\nMy mouth went dry and I almost fell out of my chair but I had a feeling that people were watching my reaction closely, so I was careful not to get all flustered. Yep – you guessed it – law school. Really, the only thing they don't teach you there is law. Jess glanced over and quickly did a double take when she read that.\n\n\"What?!\" she exclaimed. \"Is that a question or an offer?\" she asked Mark.\n\n\"Uh,\" Mark began with a laugh. \"I think he might be asking her if she wants to hook up.\"\n\n_Oh fuck!_ The flirtation thing had worked a little bit _too_ well. Although my position on the one night stand thing was wavering a little at the moment, the tiny little piece of my brain that wasn't yet swimming in beer and tequila was warning me that having a one night stand with the prosecutor who I faced regularly in court, and was insanely infatuated with to boot, was maybe not a good idea. Jess helped me to get a grip on reality.\n\n\"Mark, she was just flirting with him, not trying to pick him up. If he's interested in her let him ask her out on a date. You know — a date? Where you leave with the same person you arrived with?\" I wanted to be just like Jess when I grew up. Then she turned to me. \"Honey, you tell him that he doesn't get to misbehave with you unless he at least takes you out to dinner first.\" That sounded like a good response. It even sounded saucy. What the hell — I was feeling courageous. Alcohol will do that.\n\nDear Braden,\n\nIf you want to misbehave with me, at the very least, you'll have to take me out to dinner first.\n\nRespectfully,\n\nGabrielle S. Ginsberg, Esq.\n\nPublic Defender\n\n\"I suspect I'll be getting a summons soon,\" Mark said as we watched my response make its way\n\ntoward the other table. \"So, you're saying that you're not interested in just hooking up with Braden but you would be interested in dating him?\"\n\n\"I was under the impression that he didn't really do that – dating, I mean,\" I answered.\n\n\"He doesn't,\" Mark replied. \"You never know though. I kind of get the feeling he may be a little more interested in you, but I can't make many promises, even if he is.\"\n\n\"See!\" Jess smirked in triumph. \"I told you so!\" Mark glanced at her with amusement.\n\n\"Well, I might possibly be interested, but only if it was like a real dating thing and not just a one nighter with a meal plan,\" I said. Mark found that rather amusing.\n\n\"So, you would want there to be a _series_ of dates?\" he asked, sounding like he was negotiating a plea bargain.\n\n\"I'm not saying he's got to commit to a certain amount. I'm just saying that it would have to be more than \"one and done\" even if I got fed.\" I paused for a few seconds and then went for it. \"And if he really wanted to date me then it would need to be exclusive.\"\n\n\"That's a pretty big demand.\" Mark looked like he didn't think I had a snowball's chance in hell of nailing that one down.\n\n\"I'm not making demands, Mark,\" I explained. \"I just prefer that people who date me focus on getting to know me, which is easier if they aren't busy screwing a bunch of other women. Besides, I'm sorry, but I just don't want to stand in line at anybody's bedroom door. I was an only child. I never learned to share nicely.\" I didn't hold out much hope either, but I wasn't going to compromise on this and wind up miserable. I'd rather be frustrated than heartbroken.\n\n\"I think what she's saying, Mark, is that she would be more than happy to tire him out on a regular basis herself but she expects to be treated with respect.\" Jess summed things up well.\n\n\"Mark, I believe that Mr. Roth is trying to get your attention,\" I said. I had glanced over quickly and seen that Adam was grinning at us and gesturing for Mark to join them. Braden looked deep in thought but he was also looking at _me._ My tummy fluttered.\n\n\"I'll relay your position, Gab,\" he said with a smile. \"We public defenders have to stick together.\" Mark was a champion negotiator. I didn't exactly anticipate success but at least I was in the best hands possible. If I ever committed a felony, (and mind you, the night was still young), I wanted Mark in my corner. When he left I decided to take advantage of Jess and I being left alone to hold a conference and I leaned across the table, speaking in a conspiratorial tone while breathing tequila fumes into her face.\n\n\"So, you really think that Mr. Player over there might agree to date me?\"\n\n\"Anything's possible. Take off your jacket, by the way.\"\n\n\"Why? The air conditioning is set to subarctic.\"\n\n\"Just do it. All the booze you've been drinking should keep you warm.\" I slid my suit jacket off, hanging it on the back of my chair. I was a little self-conscious because the white sleeveless shell I had on underneath was snug, and it made me look like a waitress at Hooters, but the beer and tequila were really kicking in and so my self-consciousness was diminishing rapidly. Alcohol will do that too.\n\n\"What if he still isn't interested in anything but a one night stand though?\" I asked. I had a quick flashback to my humiliating college experience. \"I sense much awkwardness on the horizon.\"\n\n\"Then he isn't interested. You didn't ask him out. He asked you to hook up and you turned him down but said you _might_ consider dating him. Big deal. Now let your hair down.\"\n\n\"What, am I going to bed?\"\n\n\"Maybe – depends on what they come back with. Don't question it, just trust me.\" I sighed and reached up to do it. It felt good to take my hair down out of its elastic band and I shook it out and let it fall freely down my back and over my shoulders. Then I ran my hands through it to straighten it out a little.\n\n\"Anything else while I'm undressing?\"\n\n\"Nope. That will do,\" she said with a smirk. \"I think he's adjusting himself under the table.\" I noticed that at the angle she was sitting she could see the other table out of the corner of her eye.\n\n\"Braden? He was watching me do this?\"\n\n\"Yep. Now that you've announced that he's man enough to handle your mouth he's barely looked anywhere else. He probably wants to throw you down on that table and make you see God.\"\n\n\"Well, at least we have that in common. He's not talking to Mark?\"\n\n\"He's listening to Mark while watching you. It looks like they're engaged in some pretty intense discussion. It should be interesting to see if he's going to go for it.\"\n\nBefore I could ask her what she meant we were descended upon by herds of semi-drunken guys in business suits who had caught sight of us sitting alone. (Sometimes the hungry lions came to the baby gazelle.) One by one, and sometimes two by two, a steady stream of males smelling of beer, scotch, rum and various other potent potables, were stopping by to say hi and introduce themselves. They attempted to chat us up, buy us drinks, and stare at our boobs. I needed a whip and a chair. I was afraid that the whip might attract more of them, though, or at least the kinky ones. In between fending them off, we continued to talk.\n\n\"The problem is that I don't know what to say to him beyond making snarky comments.\" I was starting to sound panicky.\n\n\"What are you so nervous about? It's not like you've never attracted a guy before, Gabrielle. At least ten have tried to pick you up since Mark left the table\"\n\n\"He's so sexy, Jess. He probably dated entire sororities in college.\"\n\n\"More likely they just blew him in the bathroom. If he asks you out on a date, Gab, then he seriously likes you. He doesn't date. He fucks.\"\n\n\"So, why are you encouraging me here?\" Get it On by the Power Station was playing and I was tempted to start drunk dancing but nobody needed to see that.\n\n\"Because I think that he _does_ seriously like you.\"\n\n\"Do you know more about this than you've shared?\"\n\n\"Look, I don't know anything for sure, but I have a gut feeling and my gut's usually right. I'm also not sure that he'll do anything about it, even if he does like you, but he might now he knows that you're interested too.\"\n\n\"He doesn't even really know me, though. This is the first time he's seen me outside of court.\"\n\n\"Do you feel like you've gotten to know him by being in court with him practically every day for the past six months?\" She had a point there. It was something I had thought about myself.\n\n\"I guess that I have gotten to know a lot about his personality.\"\n\n\"Well, he's gotten to know a lot about yours too. You guys _do_ know each other well. You just don't know all the details.\" She looked up. \"Uh oh. I think we're being summoned now.\"\n\nThat feeling I had before? That wasn't panic. _This_ was panic. Even a bit boozed up I was nowhere near ready for a face to face flirt. Flight seemed out of the question, though, as Jess was already up on her feet and I didn't want to be left alone to face the horny drunken businessman brigade. I took a deep breath, grabbed my jacket and followed along. Several prosecutors had moved on and there were plenty of empty seats. Thanks to Jessica's decision to throw her body across three of them, though, I found myself seated directly across from Braden. This wasn't getting any easier.\n\n\"Was there something that you wanted?\" I asked Adam, hoping that I just sounded saucy and not like my clients who worked the corner outside the Triple X Theater.\n\n\"Why don't you tell her what you want, Braden?\" Adam laughed. I had a feeling that I could guess. Braden was giving me a really heated look. I had never seen him look at me like that, but then I had only ever been with him in court. It would be kind of odd to glance over in the middle of a carjacking case and see opposing counsel looking at you like he was picturing you naked. And I was pretty sure that's what he was doing. Although he wasn't being openly rude, he seemed to really like how I looked in a tight shirt in a cold room, if you know what I mean.\n\n\"We figured we would save you from having to turn down any more guys trying to buy you drinks,\" Mark said, tossing a peanut into his mouth.\n\n\"It's the least you could do, since thanks to you I actually _am_ under the influence _now,_ Mr. there are people going to bed sober tonight all over the world.\"\n\n\"Hey, it's not my problem you're a lightweight,\" he teased. \"I didn't force you to chug those two cups of beer, Animal.\"\n\n\"I can't _wait_ to hear what she has to say when she's been drinking,\" Adam joked.\n\n\"Perhaps I'll just sit here quietly and be entertained by your sparkling wit,\" I said and started torturing a napkin in a way that it had done nothing to deserve. Suddenly Braden, who had been quiet up until this point, reached down and picked up my hand. He held it up to examine it more closely and my pulse shot into the stratosphere. At this rate I was going to need a cardiologist soon.\n\n\"Yale?\" he asked, looking at my class ring with amusement and then laying my hand back on the table. So, I picked up his hand and held it up for my own examination. It had seemed casually sexy when he had done it. I, on the other hand, was squinting, which made it look like I was giving him an appraisal. After two beers and two shots of tequila, I was lucky I could still see straight.\n\n\"You went to Harvard?\"\n\n\"Go Crimson,\" he said, giving me a cocky grin. I put his hand down, afraid that if I didn't, I would yank him across the table and kiss him stupid for daring to be that sexy.\n\n\"The Bulldogs are ahead by ten games now you know.\" Way to be charming, Gabrielle. Maybe you should arm wrestle him too.\n\n\"That's just because Harvard's busy attracting world class scholars.\"\n\n\"You mean the ones who couldn't get into Yale?\"\n\n\"I've heard that anyone could get into Yale.\"\n\n\"What?\" I smacked him on the arm. _Oh shit_! I had just drunkenly hit a freaking prosecutor. I slouched down in my seat a little hoping to look less drunk and disorderly... and violent. He seemed to be highly amused though.\n\n\"Did everyone see that? She just assaulted an assistant district attorney,\" he said with a grin.\n\n\"She's a naughty girl. I think she needs to be punished,\" Mark said.\n\n\"Make sure you cuff her first,\" Adam said with a smirk. \"I hear she's dangerous.\"\n\n\"I'm not afraid of a little danger and I like naughty girls,\" Braden said with a suggestive smile. He was openly flirting with me at close range. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my body through my throat and it occurred to me that it might be too late for a cardiologist. I forced myself to act cool and calm though. I held his eye contact and gave him a saucy smile. To that extent the tequila was actually quite helpful.\n\n\"You want to cuff me, you'll have to catch me first.\" I was getting pretty cocky over there myself, which was pretty impressive considering I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.\n\n\"Uh oh. I think we just hit foreplay,\" Adam said and I wondered what exactly would happen if I actually lost consciousness. Would someone try to revive me or would people just step over me on the way to the bar?\n\n\"We seem to have a rivalry, folks. I think we should see how Harvard matches up with Yale in beer trivia,\" Mark said, pulling out his phone.\n\n\"What is this, a frat party?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"If it were a frat party we would play strip beer trivia,\" Adam explained. I could tell that Adam missed his fraternity days.\n\n\"Here you go, plenty of trivia online,\" Mark said. \"And hey, there's sex trivia too. Hmm. The Harvard-Yale Beer Sex Trivia Challenge. I like the sound of that.\"\n\n\"How about a little wager that Harvard can take Yale?\" Braden smiled. The look he was giving me was getting hotter by the minute. You know how flames have that blue part? Well, that's what his eyes looked like. I felt like I was about to spontaneously combust.\n\n\"You want me to wager Yale's honor on Beer Trivia?\"\n\n\"Beer _Sex_ Trivia,\" Adam corrected.\n\n\"I'll respect Yale's honor,\" Braden replied, taking a swig of his beer. \"Loser takes the winner out to dinner. That's what you wanted, right?\" Out of the corner of my eye I saw Adam and Mark exchange knowing looks. _Jesus in a sidecar!_ He was going for it!\n\n\"Maybe,\" I said hesitantly. This was only his opening offer — he was agreeing to one date.\n\n\"Oh yeah, Harvard's definitely going to take Yale.\" Adam smirked, watching us like he was watching two samurais circling each other. Or possibly like he was watching porn.\n\n\"Harvard's going down,\" Jess shot back, and I could hear barely suppressed excitement in her voice. She just couldn't wait to see what was going to happen next.\n\n\"Sounds like Yale will too, judging by our opening conversation,\" Adam retorted suggestively.\n\n\"Okay, forget the games,\" Braden said, sitting back and looking at me like he was ready to rumble. \"You and I have been facing each other in court for six months and we've negotiated plenty of agreements. So, let's negotiate.\" The gloves were coming off. Bring it baby.\n\n\"Why don't you make me an offer, counselor?\" I was hoping it would be an offer that involved getting naked at some point. I wanted to take off more than gloves. My chances of that were probably pretty good with Mr. Private Misbehavior over there.\n\nI sat up straight with my shoulders back and my chin up. I may have had one fuckinormous crush on this guy, but I could be one tough broad when I needed to be. Hothouse flowers didn't allow themselves to be locked into ten by ten concrete rooms with guys who had \"Blood Killa\" tattooed on their knuckles.\n\n\"If I understand your position correctly you want more than a one nighter with a meal plan.\"\n\nI shot Mark a deadly look _. Big mouth._\n\n\"It was funny!\" he said defensively.\n\n\"I'm stealing that line, by the way,\" Adam informed me.\n\n\"That's correct.\"\n\n\"I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow and you can choose where we go and what we do. Everything we do. I won't even try to touch you unless you ask me to. Nicely.\"\n\n\"Keep talking.\"\n\n\"We could also go out next Friday and you could choose again then if you wanted, although, there should be an implicit understanding that if we were hitting it off there might be some private misbehavior on the agenda. I'm not saying that I expect to hook up with you. I'm just saying that you should expect me to try. \"\n\n\"Is that it?\" I was playing hardball. I probably would have accepted it but I had a feeling he would offer more.\n\n\"You could also come over and join us for game night on Sunday at my place.\" I raised an eyebrow. Game night? \"And I have a fundraiser for my family's charitable foundation that I have to attend next Saturday night. There would be dinner and dancing involved if you would want to come with me to that. So, that's four dates in two weekends and I'm not even anticipating any really good misbehavior until the third one. I think that's more than fair.\"\n\n\"Hold on,\" Jess broke in. \"Game night counts as a date? As in she can come over and watch the Phillies, eat pizza and drink beer with you _and_ your buddies here?\"\n\n\"What, that's not romantic enough for you?\" Braden joked. \"I'm sorry, but that's what I had scheduled already and I don't plan to blow off my friends or my obligations. I also don't plan to drag this out for a month. If we want to keep doing this, we should figure it out quickly. Besides, she gets to choose what we do on two nights.\"\n\nI could feel the expectant looks of everyone else at the table focused on me as they waited for me to answer. As usual, Mr. Pierce had made me a fair offer. I didn't really care what we did, to be honest. Frankly, I would have been willing to watch ping pong with the entire DA's office to spend time with him. Hell, I would probably have _played_ ping pong with the entire DA's office to spend time with him. I took my time and held his gaze. Neither one of us was going to look away first. In the background _April Skies_ by the Jesus and Mary Chain played. This had to be the coolest jukebox ever.\n\n\"It's a deal,\" I said finally. I had gotten what I had asked for. I was jumping on this opportunity before I lost my chance. I reached into my purse, grabbed my cell and handed it to him. He called his phone with it and we both typed in the contact info.\n\n\"The only thing is that I have to pick up my brother at Georgetown Sunday morning and move him back home, so I can't stay out too late tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Oh, perfect!\" Jess muttered.\n\n\"I wasn't prepared for this!\" Braden said defensively. \"If I were, don't you think I might have picked something other than game night and a fundraiser?\"\n\n\"What about the other condition?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"When would I have the _time_ to screw around during this little introductory dating period?\" he asked her.\n\n\"Or the energy,\" Adam smirked. \"She's going to tire him out eventually, right?\" It was only the fact that my blood alcohol level was rising by the second that prevented me from dying of embarrassment.\n\n\"Seriously, Gab. Fridays and Saturdays are usually his only nights to pick up women,\" Mark assured me. \"It sounds like by virtue of time constraints alone, you wouldn't have to stand in line at his bedroom door.\" Remind me never to tell Mark anything that I don't want repeated out loud to his two besties over there.\n\n\"I'm stealing that one too,\" Adam added.\n\n\"And if we get along and hit it off?\"\n\n\"Then I guess we'll keep doing it,\" he answered. I waited. \"Exclusively.\" I realized that I had been holding my breath and I released it.\n\n\"Fine. I accept.\"\n\n\"It's time to go home. You're agreeing to everything so easily that if we stay any longer you may wind up not going to bed sober _or_ alone tonight.\" Jess started gathering her things.\n\n\"So easily?\" Adam demanded. \"He gave her everything she asked for!\"\n\n\"And I'm sure she'll give him _plenty_ of what he wants too. I have a newsflash for you, Mr. Roth. They wouldn't have agreed if they didn't _want_ to. Come on honey. Time to go.\" She grabbed her purse and started for the door. \"Enjoy your last night as a player,\" she called back over her shoulder.\n\n\"Make sure she gets plenty of rest,\" Adam called back.\n\n\"I'll call you tomorrow,\" Braden said.\n\n\"Bye,\" was all I replied. I wasn't sure I trusted myself to say anything else. I stood up, (steadily, I think), threw my jacket back on and followed Jess out the door. Well okay, technically, I walked face first into the door, but right after that I went through it. It was probably a good thing that I was leaving.\n\n* * *\n\nI knew what was coming as soon as we got outside. Jess did at least wait until we were about half a block away before launching into her \"I told you so\" speech. It was the start of a weekend in a major city so as we walked and talked, we navigated around many interesting sights and sounds.\n\n\"So, why would he be paying attention to you, huh?\" She smirked.\n\n\"Okay, maybe he's a little interested,\" I admitted, stepping over a puddle of something I didn't want to contemplate too deeply.\n\n\"A little? If we had stayed any longer you would have had to break out a calendar.\"\n\n\"I said that I wanted more than 'one and done.' Besides, I amuse him. He's looking for some diversion,\" I replied, circling around a group of people who were either doing Thai Chi or line dancing – on a public sidewalk.\n\n\"Honey, Braden Pierce could easily find all the diversion he wanted. There were probably twenty women in that place who would have been happy to divert him on their knees in the men's room and at least a dozen who already had.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Jess! That image really puts me in the mood for romance,\" I said, passing by a six foot tall guy with five o'clock shadow dressed in a purple polka-dotted miniskirt and sensible pumps.\n\n\"Hey, I'm just stating the obvious. I told you that it would be significant if he asked you out.\"\n\n\"Tomorrow. He asked me out for tomorrow. Oh God,\" I muttered, avoiding two pretzel vendors who seemed to be purposely ramming their carts into each other.\n\n\"Yeah, and you should remember, this is one sexually experienced guy. God only knows what he's into. Maybe we should stop by that little shop. You know which one I mean _._ \"\n\n\"Look, Dr. Drew, he himself said that he would be playing by the third date rule unless I said differently, so I don't know about breaking out the sex toys yet.\"\n\n\"You haven't gotten laid in months. You might be the one to suggest it.\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure that I should wait until at least the second date before buying a remote control vibrator,\" I noted, dropping a buck in the hat of a guy who was playing Feelings on the tuba.\n\n\"What, game night?\" She rolled her eyes. \"You should have held out for something better than that. I hope that this teaches you to listen to me from now on.\"\n\n\"Here it comes, three, two...\"\n\n\"I told you!\"\n\n\"You already said that.\"\n\n\"Okay. I told you asshat!\"\n\n# CHAPTER FOUR\n\nI had a hard time falling asleep that night and it wasn't just because of the tequila and beer induced bed spins. My brain felt like it might self-destruct every time I thought about the fact that my first attempt at flirting with Braden had been so wildly successful that I was now actually dating him. I was afraid that if I fell asleep I would wake up the next day and find out that it had all been a hallucination caused by some bad bean dip. So I laid there staring at my ceiling and not sleeping until about 3a.m. when my body finally told my brain to shut the fuck up if it didn't want me to look like an extra in Zombie Apocalypse tomorrow. Today. Whenever.\n\nI crawled out of bed again at ten o'clock and staggered toward the smell of coffee in the kitchen.\n\n\"You look like hell,\" Jess said, glancing up from the paper.\n\n\"Thanks,\" I croaked. \"You have no idea how much that doesn't help.\"\n\n\"Do us both a favor and have some coffee,\" she said taking a sip of her own. \"So, where do you plan to go to dinner?\"\n\n\"That little Middle Eastern place on Sansom.\" The coffee maker looked like an oasis sitting there on the counter as I staggered toward it.\n\n\"That little hole-in-the wall place? He would take you anywhere you wanted. Why not someplace fancy?\"\n\n\"That place is really good and the people who own it are sweet. Besides, it's close by. Maybe afterward we can go down to Suburban Station and see if Stan's playing.\" I filled my mug and just as I was about to reach for the creamer I stopped myself. This was a black coffee kind of morning.\n\n\"Stan? You want your first date with a senator's son to include a trip to a railway station to listen to a street musician?\"\n\n\"Stan's really talented. He's credited on albums put out by some real blues giants.\" I collapsed ungracefully into a seat across from her. Amazingly, I wasn't hung-over, but it felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck and dragged for a couple of miles.\n\n\"Yeah Gab, thirty years ago, but he's a street musician now.\"\n\n\"I think that if Braden doesn't like Stan and the Middle Eastern place, he's not going to like me much. Besides, I'm going to game night with him!\" She smiled and shook her head like she thought that I was crazy but she loved me anyway. Then she got up and went over to the sink to rinse out her mug and put away the dishes in the drying rack.\n\nI quickly finished my coffee and had just started to feel semi-human again when I heard my cell phone start ringing. I froze. Jess swung around and gave me an expectant look.\n\n\"Gabrielle! Answer your phone!\" she ordered, diving at my purse. She grabbed it and threw a Hail Mary pass across our kitchen that would have had NFL scouts interested. I caught it... and fumbled... but Jess was on it. She threw her body on the bag and thrust her hand in just in time to click answer and pant into the phone like an obscene caller.\n\n\"Give me that!\" I grabbed it away from her. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Gabrielle? Are you okay? Was that a dog?\"\n\n\"Braden? No, that was Jessica. She exerted herself a bit on the way to the phone.\" I gave her a \"what the hell is wrong with you?\" look.\n\n\"I see. I think. Uh, anyway, I hope it's not too early...\"\n\n\"No. I've had my coffee and I'm not even hung-over this morning.\" I started straightening my pajamas like he could see me. And like it would matter that Betty Boop's ass looked crooked on my nightshirt.\n\n\"Are you usually hung-over on Saturday mornings?\"\n\n\"No! I just meant that I might have gotten a hangover from last night because I don't usually drink a lot. I would have stopped after two beers and a shot but Mark pawned his shot off on me too.\"\n\n\"You do remember that we're supposed to go out tonight?\" he teased.\n\n\"I wasn't drunk!\"\n\n\"So you remember hooking up?\"\n\n\"What?\" I heard him start laughing. He was kidding. Whew.\n\n\"Where did you want to go tonight?\" He still sounded amused.\n\n\"It's not fancy,\" I said hesitantly.\n\n\"Good. I wear a tie five days a week.\"\n\n\"It's not that far from my apartment and we could walk there if you didn't mind.\"\n\n\"Great, the weather's beautiful.\"\n\n\"It's Middle Eastern food. Is that okay?\"\n\n\"That's fine.\"\n\n\"You're very easy to get along with outside of court.\"\n\n\"Are you saying that I'm not easy to get along with in court?\"\n\n\"You can be tough sometimes.\"\n\n\"So can you.\"\n\n\"You're being very easy right now though.\"\n\n\"Maybe I'm hoping you'll be easy later.\" He laughed and I felt myself start to sweat. \"I'm teasing you. I said that I would leave everything up to you and I'm fine with all of your suggestions. It just so happens that I like casual, I like walking and I like Middle Eastern food.\"\n\n\"Okay, well if you like walking we could go for a walk after we ate.\"\n\n\"Sure. Did you have somewhere in particular you wanted to go?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's close by though. Either you'll appreciate it as much as I do or you'll think I'm kind of nuts but it would probably be better that you knew that going in.\"\n\n\"What time should I pick you up?\" he asked, sounding very amused now.\n\n\"How about six o'clock? I live in the Chatham. It's just off of Walnut...\"\n\n\"I know exactly where it is. I live two blocks away from you.\"\n\n\"Well, that would make a booty call very easy. Oh shit. I said _that_ out loud too didn't I?\" I heard him laugh really hard. Good, hopefully he thought I was joking.\n\n\"Gabrielle?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"I also like you.\" I wanted to throw down my phone, jog the two blocks and throw myself into his arms.\n\n\"Yeah, well I like you too even if you do put my clients in jail. See you later Mr. Prosecutor.\"\n\n\"See you later Ms. Saucy Mouth.\"\n\nWe hung up and I collapsed onto the sofa and starting kicking my legs and making a noise so high-pitched that it probably attracted every canine on the block and was picked up by sonar in the Atlantic. Jess, who had tactfully left me alone, came running back in.\n\n\"Jesus, Gabrielle! Are you having a seizure?!\"\n\n\"Please please please can I keep him mom? I promise I'll take care of him! Oh baby, I'll take care of him!\"\n\n\"Good lord. She's finally gone around the bend. Can I have your Manolos when they come to take you away?\"\n\n\"Jessica, he's so sexy! He's got such a great sense of humor and he was totally comfortable with me choosing everything. He even said something kinda sorta romantic. I've heard that such men existed but I've never seen one up close.\"\n\n\"Well, we need to make sure we don't frighten him off. We'll approach him very slowly and speak in quiet gentle tones. Put on some nice perfume and let him sniff you.\"\n\n\"God, I hope he doesn't think I'm nuts after tonight.\"\n\n\"Oh don't worry honey. I'm sure that he already knows that you're nuts.\"\n\n* * *\n\nAt five-thirty Jess was sitting on my bed paging through Glamour while I got ready.\n\n\"It says that brown eye shadow really makes hazel eyes pop.\"\n\n\"Why would I want my eyes to pop?\" I asked, pulling a brush through my hair. I was leaving it down even though it was a warm night because he had seemed to find it so appealing the night before. I figured that if I was willing to shove my feet into high heels every day I had already demonstrated a willingness to undergo a little discomfort in the interest of looking good.\n\n\"You know what I mean.\" Jess was the fashion and beauty expert of the two of us. She always looked great. Of course it didn't hurt that she was gorgeous. She had long auburn hair, big chocolate brown eyes, creamy white skin and seriously dangerous curves. She couldn't look bad if she tried.\n\n\"What are you wearing?\" I picked up a short cotton skirt and a white scoop neck top.\n\n\"I figured this would be casual and comfortable but still show off my girl stuff. And the top makes my boobs look good without making me look like a walking dairy state.\"\n\n\"Good choice. You're going to wear pretty undies aren't you?\"\n\n\"It's only a first date and he has to leave early.\"\n\n\"Gabrielle!\" She sighed in exasperation.\n\n\"Okay! Just in case, I'll make sure that I don't wear granny panties.\"\n\n\"Thank you! I talked to Mark today, by the way.\"\n\n\"You did? Did he say anything about last night?\"\n\n\"Of course! Why do you think I called him? Apparently everybody called him today. Turns out that Mr. Heavy-hitter hasn't actually dated anybody since law school. He's been riding the casual hook-up train for almost two years now.\" She went back to paging through her magazine.\n\n\"He seemed to agree to date fairly easily.\"\n\n\"Like I said last night, he wouldn't have agreed if he didn't want to. He was interested already, but you apparently blew his mind last night when you told him you would make him prove that he could handle your tongue.\"\n\n\"Who _was_ that woman?\" I asked disbelievingly. Jess put down the magazine and stared at me silently for at least ten seconds. (Did you ever time that? It's longer than you think.) Then she slowly rose to her feet.\n\n\"That woman was _you,_ Gabrielle. Listen, I have something important to say to you and I need you to hear me. Be confident! You are sexy and he wants you. And it's okay for you to want him back. As long as he treats you with respect you can screw his brains out if you want!\"\n\n\"You're very wise.\"\n\n\"I know, honey.\" She patted me on the back.\n\n# CHAPTER FIVE\n\nTwenty minutes later I was dressed, perfumed, made-up, brushed, and about to collapse from nervous tension when Braden called from the lobby to tell me he was on his way up. Jess gave me a final once over and nodded her approval.\n\n\"Just remember, Gab, he's just as scared of you as you are of him.\"\n\n\"Somehow I doubt that.\"\n\nThe bell rang soon after and all of the oxygen mysteriously left the room. That happened a lot lately. Maybe I should check into a pulmonary specialist too. Jess walked over calmly and swung the door open like the father of a sixteen-year-old girl headed for the Junior Prom. She managed to look both deliriously happy for me and mildly menacing at the same time.\n\n\"Mr. Pierce. Won't you come in?\" Yeah, that sounded warm and inviting.\n\n\"Thank you.\" He smiled and I saw her soften just a little. \"Call me Braden.\" Had I ever noticed how cultured his voice sounded before? Probably not, since previously I had only heard him argue with me and tease me. He walked into our apartment looking much better than he had a right to, in a pair of loose fitting tan chinos and a white polo shirt. He could have just stepped out of an ad for Ralph Lauren. The Rolex was pretty nice too. And oh, I smelled the spicy-minty. Yum.\n\n\"You can call me Jessica,\" she said, giving him a once over.\n\n\"Thanks.\" He turned in my direction. \"You look great,\" he said, checking me out none too subtly, starting at my Manolos and moving upward. His eyes seemed to linger a couple of extra seconds on my chest. I guess that he agreed with me about the top. Eventually his gaze made it up above my neck. \"You always wear your hair tied back in court. I didn't realize that it was that long until last night.\" He was looking at it like he was picturing doing something naughty with it. Suddenly I could have cared less if my hair felt like a wet blanket on my head later. He had managed to turn me on just by looking at me. This man was much too sexy.\n\n\"Thanks. You seem younger when you're not looking so... prosecutorial.\"\n\n\"Well you know, the mantle of authority and all.\" He grinned.\n\n\"Okay kids, don't forget, Braden there has to go to school tomorrow so don't stay out too late.\"\n\n\"Thanks mom.\" I smiled. Braden held the door for me and I led the way to the elevator. It felt like the air was thick with sexual tension already and we weren't even five minutes into this date.\n\n\"It's a perfect night for a walk,\" he said.\n\n\"Good.\" I smiled with genuine pleasure. \"I like walking around the city in the evening. There's always this feeling like something exciting is about to happen.\"\n\n\"Maybe something exciting is about to happen,\" he said, stepping into the elevator with me and looking directly into my eyes in a way that made me breathe faster. There was definitely an oxygen shortage in this building. The tension started to build even more. He glanced at the emergency stop button like he wanted to push it and then push me up against the wall. I probably only noticed because I was thinking the same thing. Neither one of us pushed the button, though. We reached the ground floor without interruption and the doors slid open, breaking the spell.\n\n\"This restaurant is literally like two minutes away, just over on Sansom. It's a little kabob place. The lamb is good if you don't think too much about how cute and cuddly your entrée once was.\"\n\n\"I try not to contemplate what my dinner was like in life.\"\n\n\"Probably wise.\" I glanced up at him and smiled. \"So, you grew up around here?\"\n\n\"In Bryn Mawr,\" he replied, naming a town on the Philadelphia Main Line with one of the wealthiest zip codes in the United States.\n\n\"Nice neighborhood.\"\n\n\"The Upper East Side of Manhattan isn't too shabby either.\"\n\n\"Been talking to Mark huh? What else did you find out?\"\n\n\"Your mom is a VP at Goldman Sachs and your father is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. So, you're a trust fund baby like me but you're an only child. I've got to share my inheritance with my younger brother and sister.\"\n\n\"Well, at least you know I'm probably not after your money.\"\n\n\"Most people highly motivated by money don't become public defenders.\"\n\n\"My parents like to point that out too, but not for the same reason.\"\n\n\"Are you close to your mom and dad?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, very. They've been happily married for twenty-eight years and they're very loving parents. Is your family close?\"\n\n\"Yes, exceptionally,\" he answered. \"My parents have been happily married for thirty years. And my brother and sister and I are close even though Drew and I rag on each other.\"\n\n\"You went to Georgetown Law and you're twenty-seven like Mark?\"\n\n\"Right. You went to Penn Law and you're twenty-six?\"\n\n\"Yep. So now we know the details,\" I said with a smile.\n\n\"Now we know the details,\" he agreed.\n\n\"Ah, here we are,\" I said as we approached the restaurant. \"I warned you that it's not fancy.\"\n\n\"I don't care about fancy as long as it tastes good. I'll try the lamb even though I'm afraid that now I'm going to think about how cute my dinner once was.\"\n\n\"Sorry about that.\" We went down the steps from the sidewalk to the entrance below and entered into the quaint interior filled with delicious smells and Turkish music. I saw my friend Ahmet rushing to greet us.\n\n\"Gabrielle! It's good to see you! Come in! Sit down! Damla will be happy you are here! And you brought someone with you!\" He gave me an inquisitive smile.\n\n\"I've been telling him how great the food is here.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes thank you!\" He beamed. He handed us menus and then hurried off. He was back in a moment with his wife Damla.\n\n\"Gabrielle! You are looking so beautiful! And who is your friend?\" Damla asked with a huge smile. Damla was so warm she glowed.\n\n\"This is Braden. He's a lawyer too.\"\n\n\"And are you on a date?\"\n\n\"We are actually, yes.\"\n\n\"That _is_ good news!\" she said, clapping her hands excitedly. Great, even the people at the kabob place were thrilled to see me with a date. \"She is very lovely!\" Damla said to Braden. \"She will have beautiful children someday.\" I wanted to slide out of my chair and crawl under the table to hide. I started to read the menu with the focus of a Talmudic scholar.\n\n\"I haven't had that yogurt soup in a while. That was really good.\" Thankfully they took the hint.\n\n\"I'll send Fatma over to take your order. Have a very nice date!\" Damla said sweetly.\n\n\"We hope we will see you many times,\" Ahmet added. They kept smiling and waving as they backed up toward the kitchen. When they got there I saw them peek their heads back out again. They had huge smiles and waves for us. I waved and spoke to Braden as I smiled back at them.\n\n\"I helped them with some immigration stuff once. They're very thankful people. And I haven't really dated anyone in a while so I guess they're happy that my attractive ovaries might not go to waste.\"\n\n\"Why haven't you been dating?\" he asked.\n\n\"My opportunities are mostly for inner-office romances or one night hook-ups with strangers but neither one of those really appeals to me much. So, why have you been... um?\"\n\n\"Having casual sexual encounters with no emotional investment or commitment?\"\n\n\"I was just going to say not dating, but okay, if you prefer.\"\n\n\"It's been a while since I've been interested enough to want to know more about a woman than whether she preferred to be on the top or the bottom.\"\n\n\"Oh. Well, I'm flattered, I guess, and for the record, I like both. It just depends on my mood.\" He grinned and I saw his eyes start to heat up. Fatma came over and took our order. When she left Braden picked up where we left off.\n\n\"I should warn you that I'm very out of practice with the dating thing and it might take me a little while to get back into that mindset. For example, although part of me _is_ sitting here thinking, wow here's this amazingly smart and sexy woman and I really want to get to know her better, there's still that other part of me that's thinking I want to take her back to my place and bang her until she can't walk straight.\"\n\nI felt a little lightheaded for a second but then I imagined a little Jess hovering over the table saying \"Confidence, Gabrielle! It's okay to _want_ to be banged until you can't walk straight, honey!\" I wasn't exactly sure why Jess was dressed like Yoda but I was just going to go with it.\n\n\"Ah, well. They don't really have to be mutually exclusive goals do they?\" I started, and his grin slowly got bigger as his gaze got hotter. I was feeling very baby gazelle-like at the moment.\n\n\"Not at all,\" he said in a low sultry voice.\n\n\"Not tonight! I mean, because, well you have to go somewhere tomorrow.\" I swallowed.\n\n\"Okay? So, you _don't_ want to hook up with me?\" He looked confused. _Oh fuck!_ I was totally messing this up! I didn't want him to think that I didn't _want_ to!\n\n\"I'm not saying that I don't _want_ to have sex with you! Believe me! I do! In fact, I want to have hot sweaty monkey sex with you! Okay, maybe that was a bit too candid. I'm just saying that I want it to be different than if you just picked me up in a bar. I wouldn't want you to just leave and thank me on the way out the door. I'm not expecting some kind of huge emotional connection right away. I just want it to be different than going to bed with my vibrator. Do you know what I mean?\"\n\n\"You have a vibrator?\" he asked with a smile and I rolled my eyes. \"I'm just kidding! I know what you mean, Gabrielle. Would it shock you if I told you that I felt that way too?\"\n\n\"You do?\"\n\n\"I'm sitting here on a date with you, aren't I? I invited you over to my place to spend time with my friends. I invited you to my family's fundraiser at my parents' home. Obviously, I don't view you in the same way as some person I hooked up with at a club last weekend and whose name I forgot. Or never knew. What I meant was that I'm trying to do this right but I'm distracted by how much I want you physically. That's all.\"\n\n\"Oh. Oh!\" I smiled. \"Well, um, I feel that way too. You distract me a lot. \"\n\n\"I kind of got that from the hot, sweaty, monkey sex comment.\"\n\n\"Oh Jesus. I really said that, didn't I?\" I felt my face getting hot.\n\n\"Don't be embarrassed! Weirdly enough, I think that may have been the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me. And believe me, I would be happy to oblige, but I understand what you're saying about tonight. And I'd like to be able to take my time and not be worried about having to be somewhere. Don't worry, I'm a big boy and I can wait a while. Not a _long_ while. I have kind of a strong libido.\"\n\n\"So do I and I don't have much of an outlet for it, so believe me, I don't want to wait a long time either. I've been having X-rated dreams about you for God knows how long. Okay, that's probably too much information too.\"\n\n\"You're a very upfront person.\" He laughed.\n\n\"With you at least, it seems. So anyway! Since that's not in the cards for tonight, maybe we could just focus on getting to know each other better. We did the basic details but we didn't try to figure out if we have similar interests. Besides sex I mean,\" I said, and he laughed again. \"I amuse you, don't I?\"\n\n\"Yes, very much, and that's one of the things that I like best about you. I'm sorry if this sounds sexist but I find you kind of adorable sometimes.\"\n\nOur entrees arrived then and we spent the rest of the meal discussing hobbies, books, movies, television shows, our college majors and activities, and our favorite pastimes. (Besides sex.) Amazingly, Braden and I actually had a lot in common. Perhaps the oddest thing we shared was a mutual enjoyment of watching PBS in bed. We wound up talking for hours. By the time we sat sipping our Afghan tea I felt much more comfortable with him, even though I was more attracted to him than ever.\n\n\"Well, that was delicious. Excellent choice. So where did you want to take me now?\" Immediately, my stomach got a little queasy and it wasn't because of the lamb. Even I had to admit that what I was going to suggest was kind of an eccentric thing to do on a first date — or any date.\n\n\"I want to take you to hear one of my favorite musicians.\"\n\n\"Okay, great!\" He called Ahmet over with the check. He and Damla effused joyful tidings a bit more and wished us well. I'm not sure, but I think they may have actually blessed us in Turkish. Braden left them a very generous tip and I knew he would now be on their list of VIPs. It was after nine when we finally left.\n\n\"We have to go to Suburban Station.\"\n\n\"Suburban Station? Is this musician out of town?\n\n\"Nope.\" I smiled and didn't elaborate. We walked the several blocks to the entrance I was looking for, descended the steps and started walking through the cavernous tunnels leading to the underground regional rail station. As we rounded a bend I heard what I was listening for, a deep rich smoky voice singing the blues and strumming a guitar. It was Stan the bluesman. I started walking faster. Within a couple of minutes we came upon Stan. He was sitting on a couple of milk crates holding his guitar.\n\n\"Gabrielle? Is that you?\" An elderly voice called out to me. Stan's eyes were going a little in his old age.\n\n\"Stan! How are you?\" I smiled at him as I walked closer.\n\n\"I'm just fine and how about yourself?\"\n\n\"Great. I brought somebody with me to listen to your music.\"\n\n\"Is this your young man?\" Stan looked up at Braden and gave him a big grin.\n\n\"This is our first date,\" I explained. \"Braden, this is Stan. He's a genuine bluesman. He knew all the greats; Willie Dixon, Big Boy Crudup, Muddy Waters, T-Bone Walker and he played with quite a few of them.\"\n\n\"Oh hush now,\" Stan said. \"You're gonna make me blush. Tell you what, since this is a special occasion, I'll play you a special song by another fella you may have heard of, Mr. John Lee Hooker.\"\n\nStan started to play and I heard the opening chords to _I'm In the Mood._ I started clapping my hands along with him. He was awesome as always, making that guitar sing.\n\nA few other people started to gather and Stan immediately went into two more songs as folks dropped money in his guitar case. When he finished up, a middle-aged guy who had been standing over against a wall approached him.\n\n\"I've got to tell you sir, I'm a big-time blues fan and you've got some real talent.\"\n\n\"He certainly does,\" I said. \"This is Stanford Benson you're talking to.\"\n\n\"The Stanford Benson? You're kidding me right?\"\n\n\"No sir. Stanford Benson from Atlanta Georgia.\"\n\n\"Have you been playing here long?\"\n\n\"A few months. I've fallen on some hard times, to be honest with you sir. It can be hard for an old bluesman to get gigs these days.\"\n\n\"My name is Ron Baker. I write for the Philadelphia Inquirer and I'd like to write a story about you. I'd also like to introduce you to a friend of mine who owns a little club called the Blue Moon. I think he'd be thrilled to have you play his place.\"\n\n\"Well sir, I would certainly appreciate that,\" Stan said, his voice cracking a little. I was feeling kind of emotional myself to tell you the truth. I figured it was time for us to make our exit.\n\n\"Thanks so much, Stan. That was like the coolest first date song ever.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I agree,\" Braden said and dropped a hundred bucks in Stan's guitar case on top of the fifty I had slipped in there surreptitiously.\n\n\"Thank you! Both of you! I think you must be good luck.\"\n\nWe waved goodbye, and walked in contented silence for a couple of minutes and then Braden turned to me and said, \"Well, how about that? Something exciting happened.\"\n\n\"Yeah! No kidding, I really hope Stan gets a regular gig,\" I said and he gave me a strange look that I couldn't interpret. I figured that he was probably thinking that I was nuts. \"Is this the weirdest date you've ever been on?\"\n\n\"Yeah, probably. And I _like_ it, but I do really have to get up early.\"\n\n\"We can just head on back if you want.\"\n\n\"It's not that I want to. It really is only because I have to get up at five and I'll be helping him move.\" He hesitated and then said, \"I could cancel game night tomorrow and just take you out if you wanted. Mark and Adam would understand.\"\n\n\"It's okay. Game night is fine.\" I looked at him and smiled. \"You're going to be tired anyway.\"\n\n\"You're pretty easy to get along with outside of court,\" he said smiling back.\n\n\"Maybe I'm just hoping you'll be easy next Friday night,\" I teased. His look heated up again.\n\n\"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. I think your chances of getting pretty much any kind of sex you want are exceptionally good.\" My tummy flipped over.\n\nHe walked me to my apartment door but didn't make any move to touch me. He just stood there about three feet away from me waiting to see what I wanted him to do.\n\n\"I had a great time tonight,\" he said, watching me carefully.\n\n\"Me too,\" I said, a little nervous about actually initiating anything.\n\n\"Well then, I guess I'll call you tomorrow.\" He started to turn back toward the elevator.\n\n\"Kiss me! Please?\" He paused and turned back. \"I asked nicely.\" He smiled and then walked slowly over to me, looking into my eyes as he approached. When he was directly in front of me he leaned down to kiss me slowly and gently on the lips. My heart was pounding so hard I thought he must be able to hear it. I had just witnessed a famous bluesman playing a private dedication to me in a train station but not even that seemed as unbelievable as the fact that this man who I had wanted for months was actually kissing me. He started to move away and I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him back. He kissed me harder then and I opened my mouth to invite him in. Within minutes I had the door pressed up against my back and Braden pressed up against my front and his tongue was confidently stroking mine and exploring my mouth sensuously. His hands were under my shirt, against my bare skin, exploring my ribcage sensuously too. Sensuous exploration seemed to be a strength of his and I felt that this was a very good sign.\n\nI was getting a little crazed out there in the hallway, to be truthful. I could feel his erection pressing up against me and I was starting to squirm shamelessly against him. Just the thought that I could get him into that condition was blowing my mind. It was a little scary that a simple goodnight kiss from this guy was driving me into such a state of hyper-arousal so quickly. Even though I felt hot and flushed I still had goose bumps everywhere. It was like my body didn't know what in the hell to do with this much stimulation so it just threw everything it had at it.\n\nHis hands started to explore higher and his fingers grazed the bottoms of my breasts and then gently traced the outline of my nipples through the soft fabric of my bra. I'm sure they weren't difficult to find, since they were so hard that they ached. I became vaguely aware of a quiet moaning sound and realized that it was me. My self-control was almost at the breaking point and I was getting close to telling him that we could always sleep in next weekend when I heard Jessica on the other side of the door.\n\n\"Hey, Gabrielle? I really hope that's you moaning out there. Are you planning to have sex in the hall? Don't forget that Kaylee next door is only fourteen.\" Braden and I flew apart and I straightened out my clothing while I caught my breath and cleared my throat.\n\n\"I'm just saying goodnight. I'll be right in,\" I called out.\n\n\"Goodnight,\" he said, sounding a little out of breath himself. \"I'll call you tomorrow.\" He gave me a sexy grin and headed for the elevator without objection or complaint. I ducked into my apartment and went off to my room to break out my all-time favorite online purchase.\n\n# CHAPTER SIX\n\nThe next day when Braden called he told me that he was running late and he asked me to come by at about six-thirty. Since we were just hanging out at his place I dressed casually in cut-offs and my \"Brainy Is the New Sexy\" tee-shirt.\n\n\"You're sure you want to go drink beer and eat pizza with Adam and Mark?\"\n\n\"I'm sure that I want to go and do anything with Braden.\"\n\n\"Do you even know how to play baseball?\"\n\n\"Basically. You hit the ball and run around the bases and the other team tries to stop you. How hard can it be? I don't completely understand football either and I watch the Harvard-Yale game.\"\n\n\"You really have it bad for this guy. I can't imagine you doing this for anyone else.\"\n\n\"I have court early tomorrow and so I probably won't be home late.\"\n\nHe greeted me at his apartment door, looking very cute in faded jeans, an old gray tee-shirt with Phillies written on it and bare feet. His hair looked slightly damp. He smiled when he saw my shirt and then his eyes traveled down my legs.\n\n\"Come in and make yourself comfortable. You're welcome to take off your shoes, or any article of clothing that you like, for that matter.\" He gave me a smile that made my tummy feel all fluttery. I slipped off my shoes and left them by the door. His apartment had an open layout with beautiful dark hardwood floors. Straight in front of me there were floor to ceiling windows along one exterior wall that presented a spectacular view of the Square and the buildings beyond. To my left was a modern kitchen and dining area and to my right a large flat screen TV was mounted on the interior wall and surrounded by an arrangement of a black leather sofa and matching loveseats. There were also lots of books and bookshelves everywhere. I loved books. I also loved people who loved books. This too, was a very good sign.\n\n\"This is really nice, Braden. I like the way that it's so open but it still feels cozy.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" He looked genuinely pleased with the compliment.\n\n\"So I guess Adam and Mark aren't here yet?\" I wandered over to the window to check out the view and I imagined how the buildings in the distance looked lit up after dark. It must be beautiful. I was a city girl.\n\n\"They usually come at about seven,\" he said walking up behind me. \"I wanted to have a chance to spend at least a little time with you alone. This was the best I could do. I didn't get home until six myself and I wanted to at least shower.\"\n\nI turned around and put my arms around his hips. \"I don't know. I think I might like you a little sweaty,\" I teased. It's amazing how brave six months of celibacy and a very sexy guy could make me.\n\n\"Well, I'm looking forward to getting sweaty with you.\"\n\nI started feeling warm and my skin felt tingly. I bit down on my bottom lip and his eyes seemed drawn to it. He traced it with the pad of his thumb and then he bent his head down and kissed me, biting it himself and tugging it into his mouth. He sucked on it lightly before deepening the kiss and slowly rubbing his tongue up against mine. I began to shiver a little and when he moved away from my mouth and started trailing kisses down my neck my legs got shaky.\n\n\"Uh, Braden,\" I said a little breathlessly.\n\n\"Mm?\" he replied, tugging my earlobe into his mouth and sucking on it _. Jesus that felt good!_\n\n_\"_ I think I may need to sit down.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" he said, looking a bit concerned. I'm sure my eyes were probably glazed over and my face was flushed. I probably looked drugged. He took my hand and led me over to the sofa where I plunked myself down less than gracefully.\n\n\"Are you feeling okay?\"\n\n\"More than okay — I was feeling so good that I was afraid I might hit the floor,\" I said throatily, and a big beautiful grin slowly took the place of the worried look. He sat down beside me and picked right up where he had left off, returning his attention to my very lucky earlobe. I ran my fingers through his hair enjoying how warm and soft it felt even slightly damp. Actually, he was warm all over, but his hair was probably the only soft part of him. I ran my other hand over his back, and lordy, those muscles were tight. I breathed in his spicy scent and I _felt_ drugged too to be honest. I was high on Braden.\n\nMy hands weren't the only ones that were busy. His had started out on my back but then one hand had worked its way to my front and up under my tee-shirt. He reached into my bra this time, cupped my breast and circled my very attentive nipple with his thumb. I whimpered a little and arched my back, pushing against him hard. He stopped kissing me for a moment and gave me that blue flame look.\n\n\"They're going to be here soon.\" His voice was a little husky. \"We don't have a lot of time and I don't want to drive both of us crazy, but, you know the other night when you took your jacket off at the pub?\" I nodded. \"I couldn't help but notice you have really gorgeous ti... uh, breasts. Could I, um? Could I maybe just...\" He had a sexy, almost boyish, smile on his face. I nodded again and I noticed that he was breathing quickly and looking just a little flushed himself. He held my gaze but reached behind me and unhooked my bra. Then he gently eased my shirt up. I realized at that moment that there was a fairly good chance that Braden was a boob man. His gaze dropped and he let out a low groan. Yep – boob man.\n\n\"Beautiful.\" And then a slightly shaky breath. \"Must touch.\" He swallowed hard and reached out to cup and caress my breasts, lightly pinching my nipples and making me moan and push myself against him some more. _Christ_ , I was totally shameless with him! \"Perfect,\" he said in a low thick voice almost to himself. Oh my God. I was so turned on that I was starting to tremble. He gently pushed me down onto my back, leaned over me and lowered his head. I felt his tongue graze one very hard nipple...\n\n... When Adam and Mark rang up from the lobby. That had to have been the quickest half hour of my entire life. I let my head fall back against a pillow, stared at the ceiling for a second and, I'll admit it, I said a _really_ bad word. Inner-Gabrielle also kicked the wall a few times. I looked back at him and despite startled amusement at my colorful choice of expletive (recall that I spend my days interviewing guys in jail), I could see from the expression on his face his self-control was getting a work-out. I wasn't the only one in the room craving some hot sweaty monkey sex.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he said. He sounded apologetic and looked frustrated.\n\n\"It's okay.\" I sat up and fixed my clothes while he had them buzzed in. When he was done I looked at him and smiled. \"Don't worry. We'll have the opportunity to get seriously freaky soon.\" I know — I'm just so wonderfully warm and romantic sometimes. A sweet talker like me should write for Hallmark.\n\n\"I'll make sure it was worth waiting for,\" he said, giving me a slightly wicked look and went off to splash cold water on his face. I could have benefitted from being hosed down.\n\n* * *\n\nNot long after, Mark and Adam were at the door and Braden invited them in. They obviously didn't see me standing off to the side behind them. Ask me how I figured that out.\n\n\"Braden looks happy.\" Mark smiled. \"Everybody'll be getting deals tomorrow. Stole a car and committed sixty-three moving violations during a high speed chase? No problem. Just don't do it again.\"\n\n\"So did Harvard take Yale or did Harvard go down?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"More importantly did Yale go down? We want to hear how you handled her tongue,\" Mark said lasciviously. I suppose that I could have gotten all offended by this but, come on, it wasn't like Jess and I didn't dish details too, and I mentioned that I spend time with guys in jail, right? I just rolled my eyes.\n\n\"Don't you think you should at least say hi to her first?\" Braden asked.\n\n\"Oh fuck!\" Mark spun around. \"Hi, Gabrielle! How are you doing?\" Adam just cracked up.\n\nWe were waiting for the pizza and sitting in front of the TV drinking beer while some kind of pregame show was on when Mark brought up a different subject.\n\n\"So how about that article in the Times today that mentioned Gabrielle's dad?\"\n\n\"I didn't read the Times today. Just the Inquirer,\" I said.\n\n\"I was busy moving Drew all day. I didn't get a chance to read anything,\" Braden added.\n\n\"Does your father know that you're dating Gabrielle?\" Adam asked and I immediately started to get worried. Braden looked at him warily.\n\n\"I told my parents that I just started dating somebody and that I was bringing her to the fundraiser, that's all.\"\n\n\"My dad's not in jail or anything?\" Images of Ivan Boesky and Michael Milken floated through my head and I started to panic.\n\n\"Nothing like that!\" Mark assured me. \"You have the Times?\" he asked Braden. Braden got up and brought it in, handing it over to him. He paged through until he found what he was looking for. \"It's called _The New Kingmakers_ and it's a piece about a small group of CEOs who aren't really well known but who supposedly have a lot of influence. The article said that these guys all have been showing interest in supporting centrist politicians – almost like they had a plan. We just thought you'd be interested since Gab's dad is one of the CEOs mentioned and your dad is, you know, a centrist politician?\"\n\n\"My dad lives in New York. Why would he get involved in a Pennsylvania Senatorial election?\"\n\n\"The article was hinting about their ability to put somebody in the White House,\" Adam replied. Great. This was starting to sound like some weird conspiracy theory.\n\n\"And they have a \"plan.\" Isn't that special? You know, I have some footage of an alien autopsy you guys should check out,\" I said sarcastically, and Braden snorted with amusement.\n\n\"Switching sides already.\" Adam shook his head.\n\n\"Hey, it's the New York Times, not the National Enquirer,\" Mark shot back. \"I just figured that Senator Pierce might be interested in knowing that his son is dating the Kingmaker's daughter.\"\n\n\"My dad does things strictly by the book,\" I said. \"He wouldn't make a bed without asking three people to advise him, two people to draft proposals and someone to provide catering. He's not sitting in some smoky back room plotting the future of the country.\"\n\n\"Can I see the article?\" Braden asked. Mark passed it over and Braden took a few minutes to read it.\n\n\"My dad would probably just find it an amusing coincidence. For the record, he's not the pawn of any secret cadre of businessmen with moderate political views.\" He winked at me and my tummy fluttered again. Ha! I was on the teasing end for a change and Braden was on _my_ side! I loved it!\n\n\"I think you guys should take a road trip to Roswell,\" I joked.\n\n\"Maybe you can prove that Elvis is still alive and break the Da Vinci Code on the way,\" he added and I giggled. Mark and Adam gave each other a look.\n\n\"I think it's just the two of us now, Adam,\" Mark said.\n\n\"Want to lay some cash on how long he has?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"Six months,\" Mark answered.\n\n\"Until engagement or actual marriage?\"\n\n\"Just until engagement. You've got to give him some time to get past denial and make it to acceptance.\"\n\n\"Nah. What are you, blind? This is only their second date and he may not even have banged her yet. He's going down like the Hindenburg this time, man. I say engaged in three, married in six.\" Adam smiled and sipped his beer \"It was a good run though, Brade.\" He lifted his beer in a toast.\n\n\"You're nuts!\" Mark replied. \"I say, you've got to give him some time to get _her_ under control. I think she's more dangerous than people realize. Engaged in six, married in twelve.\"\n\n\"You're on. I'll take that action for a Benjamin,\" Adam said and wrote something down on a scrap of paper and stuck it in his wallet.\n\n\"Isn't betting illegal in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania outside of licensed venues?\" I asked Braden with a smile.\n\n\"We might have to make a citizen's arrest,\" he smiled back.\n\nThe pizza arrived and I have to admit that watching the game was actually kind of interesting. I wanted to demonstrate that I was interested in learning more about the things Braden liked, so I asked questions and made a few observations – although admittedly, some of them may have been a little... odd. I even found myself cheering at various times. Once it was at the wrong time, but Braden cleared that up. Several times I caught him watching me and smiling as I stared at the screen, my brows furrowed in concentration. I definitely amused him.\n\nWhen the game was over, I helped him to clean up and he seemed to like watching me do that too. In fact, he seemed almost fascinated by watching me do the dishes and put them away for some reason. I had a feeling that my shorts were probably riding up every time I reached for the top cupboards. Mark offered to walk me two blocks back to my building before driving home. Before I left Braden gave me a sweet goodbye kiss which, of course, led Adam and Mark to both tell us how disturbingly cute we were and led Adam to inform Mark that he should be prepared to pay up.\n\n# CHAPTER SEVEN\n\n### IN THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS OF PHILADELPHIA COUNTY,  \nPENNSYLVANIA\n\n**Monday**\n\n**Commonwealth v. Sanchez**\n\nBraden was questioning the witness, Mr. Lao, owner of a corner market that my client had held up. I won't even say \"allegedly\" held up because I was quickly discovering that there was pretty much no doubt whatsoever that my client was guilty. Mr. Lao was a small, highly agitated man who spoke with a heavy accent and gestured a lot with his hands. His message, nevertheless, was coming across loud and clear. We were screwed.\n\n\"So Mr. Lao, it's your testimony that the defendant, Mr. Sanchez, held you up at gunpoint and asked you to open your cash drawer. What happened then?\" (My client claimed that this was all a big misunderstanding, incidentally.)\n\n\"He say 'not enough money' and he look mad. Then he tie me up with tape and I sit behind counter.\" Yeah, kind of hard to see how this could have been a misunderstanding.\n\n\"And what did Mr. Sanchez do then?\"\n\n\"He work register. Wait on customer. Take money.\" I forced myself not to roll my eyes. Inner-Gabrielle was slapping my client upside the head.\n\n\"Wait a minute!\" Judge Channing cut in incredulously. \"Did you just say that _he_ worked the register?!\" I sighed. _Why did I always get these cases?_\n\n\"Yes. He wait on customer. Make change,\" Mr. Lao answered.\n\n\"How long did he do this?\" Braden asked, glancing at me. _Here it comes. Are you ready for it?_\n\n\"Eight hour.\" _Cue confetti!_\n\n\"He worked a full shift?!\" Judge Channing cut in again. I saw Braden cover his mouth and turn toward the prosecution table to fumble with some paper. _Yeah, laugh it up, pretty boy._\n\n\"Yes. He good worker.\" Braden coughed.\n\n\"No further questions Your Honor.\"\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg!\" Judge Channing looked at me dubiously.\n\n\"Mr. Lao,\" I said rising to my feet. \"English is not your first language, is it?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"And Mr. Sanchez spoke with an accent. True?\" (Not like tying him up hadn't given him a hint to my client's intentions.)\n\n\"Yes. He have accent.\"\n\n\"Thank you. No more questions.\" I sat down.\n\n\"Any redirect?\"\n\n\"Just one question, Your Honor,\" Braden replied. \"Mr. Lao, did you understand everything that Mr. Sanchez said to you?\"\n\n\"He say give me all your money or I shoot you. You see when you look at security camera video.\" _Yep. We were screwed._ Inner-Gabrielle started filing her nails. This one was over.\n\n\"No further questions.\"\n\n\"I'm assuming there's no argument, Ms. Ginsberg?\" Judge Channing asked, giving me a look that clearly said that there had damned well better not be any. I tapped my pen against my legal pad as if I were actually giving it careful consideration and making a strategic decision to hold off. I wasn't fooling anyone. I had nothing.\n\n\"No, Your Honor, however, we hope to discuss the possibility of a plea bargain with the Commonwealth.\"\n\n\"Obviously. All charges held for trial. Schedule it.\" He banged his gavel. That, thankfully, was the last case of the day. Braden brought me the order and Mr. Sanchez, the industrious armed robber, was led away.\n\n\"No deal.\"\n\n\"What? What do you mean no deal?\"\n\n\"Gabrielle, the man worked the counter for eight hours with the owner tied up behind him. It's all on video. I would have to try _really hard_ to lose this case at trial.\"\n\n\"You want to waste your time trying this? What is it you think I would say to the twelve jurors who gave up their day for that great example of the criminal justice system in action?\"\n\n\"Maybe you could put on your 'everybody has a right to a trial' defense.\"\n\n\"You know, I'm going to win with that one someday, baby. You had just better watch out.\"\n\n\"Look, I won't object to him pleading guilty.\"\n\n\"With no agreement? How kind of you! Well, at least people won't question whether I'm trading sexual favors for deals.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute! You never said that was on the table!\" he joked.\n\n\"I may have no other choice. He worked the freaking cash register for eight hours to get more money! On camera! C'mon, big boy. I'll let you cuff me for plea to unlawful restraint with a two year cap.\" I winked.\n\n\"Pack up your stuff and come with me,\" he said, shaking his head and packing up his own files. I packed up all of my files and followed him out of the courtroom. I saw that we were headed toward the onsite DA's offices where prosecutors prepared witnesses and negotiated plea bargains. We went in and he led me to an open interview room, shutting the door behind us. I figured that he had taken pity on me and would throw some kind of bone.\n\n\"So, you want to discuss a deal after all?\" I asked seriously.\n\n\"I'll think about it, but don't expect it to be generous, and I won't offer anything if the victim objects.\"\n\n\"Okay?\" I said, feeling a little confused. \"I guess I can understand that. So why did you want to come here?\"\n\n\"Because I want to kiss that saucy mouth.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I said, surprised, and felt goose bumps form on my arms. We were at work. This was... different. He walked over and stood right in front of me. I could feel heat radiating from his body and, God, he smelled good. He grabbed my chin and tipped my head back. Then he looked intently into my eyes for a second, leaned down, and I could feel his warm breath and sense his lips about to brush mine, when he pulled back, teasing me. I opened my eyes again, unsure what to do and afraid to move. I was about to start panting and a small whimper escaped my throat.\n\nIt seemed to fire him up and his mouth came down on mine hard and took total possession of it. So far he had been a slow, sensuous kisser but today he was more greedy and demanding, almost dominating, and I'm not ashamed to tell you that I liked it! He reached inside my suit jacket and ran his fingers lightly along my back, sending shivers up and down my spine and I felt my lower regions heating up and liquefying. After melting my panties for a few minutes he pulled back.\n\n\"I have a confession. I tend to get a lot of adrenaline flowing in court,\" he said in a husky voice. \"When I'm in court with you, I also tend to get a lot of testosterone flowing. The combination fires up my libido like you wouldn't believe.\"\n\n\"I should argue with you more often,\" I replied a little breathlessly.\n\n\"You argue with me all the time. We're lawyers. And you've been driving me crazy for quite a while now. If we hadn't started dating I probably would have banged half the women in this courthouse.\"\n\n\"I thought that you had banged half the women in this courthouse.\"\n\n\"Okay, the other half.\"\n\n\"You know, I think I'm happy that I'm a lawyer. And, believe me, I don't say that a lot.\"\n\n\"Nobody says that a lot. I really need to have some hot sweaty monkey sex with you on Friday. And when I say \"some\" I mean hours' worth. I'm talking getting seriously freaky until we pass out.\"\n\n\"That's the best offer you've made me all day. You know that if I wind up trying this dumbass case, I'm going to make you use that adrenaline and testosterone to service me all night.\"\n\n\"Well then, we'll definitely need to sleep in the next day. Now I have to get out of here before _I_ hit the floor... with you under me.\"\n\n**Tuesday**\n\n**Commonwealth v. Murphy**\n\nMy client, Ms. Brandy Murphy, had elected to go non-jury for her simple assault trial. That meant that the judge would determine whether or not she was guilty of assaulting her boyfriend Mr. Vinnie Virillo, who was presently testifying for the Commonwealth. The fates were smiling down on Ms. Murphy. That morning Judge Channing had awoken with a case of the runs, and sitting in for him was Judge Anita Blasko, President of the Women's Bar Association. The courtroom also happened to be packed with women who had dated at least one Vinnie Virillo in their lives.\n\n\"Mr. Virillo, can you please describe for the judge what led to the police arriving at your house on April sixteenth of this year?\" Braden asked the witness.\n\n\"I was in bed with my girlfriend and she started beating on me, so I got up and ran, and she ran after me and the neighbor called the cops.\"\n\n\"Let's go back, you were in bed with your girlfriend and what specifically happened?\" More like what _hadn't_ happened, I thought cynically. I tried to keep my expression neutral even though Mr. Virillo had the same effect on my stomach as mixing a few gin martinis, a bottle of red wine, some orange Gatorade and a Twinkie. Don't ask how I know that.\n\n\"We were having sex, you know? I got off, but she didn't, and she was really pissed, sorry, mad, because I ain't been trying too hard lately if you know what I mean.\" Many women sitting in the courtroom waiting for cases knew what he meant, because I heard some angry female grumbling coming from behind me.\n\n\"Are you saying that she became angry because you reached orgasm before she did?\" Let me just take a moment here to give myself some credit and point out as an aside that I have some pretty mad concentration skills, because hearing Braden Pierce say the word \"orgasm\" was almost enough to make me actually have one... okay, back to business.\n\n\"Not _before_ I did!\" My client got up from the defense table and yelled at Braden. \"That selfish bastard don't care if I ever do!\" One of the spectators tossed out a, \"you tell 'em, honey!\"\n\n\"Ms. Murphy!\" I whispered harshly, all but forcing her to sit down. \"You can't do that. You're just going to hurt your case.\"\n\n\"Ms. Murphy!\" Judge Blasko cautioned. \"Listen to your lawyer and remain calm for your own good. And I'll need everyone in the courtroom to remain quiet, please.\" Ms. Murphy was mad and I didn't blame her. Luckily, Judge Blasko looked like she didn't either.\n\n\"So, Mr. Virillo,\" Braden continued, \"when you say she beat you, what do you mean?\"\n\n\"She whacked me in the chest.\"\n\n\"Was it a hard whack...Uh, that is, did she strike you with force?\" Braden glanced at me and actually looked embarrassed. I could tell that he hated this case.\n\n\"Well, really it was more like a push. I went flying off of her and I wasn't sticking around to find out what else she would do. She was really pissed, man. Sorry – mad.\"\n\n\"And you said she ran after you?\" There was more mumbling from the female part of the crowd and Judge Blasko shot them a warning look.\n\n\"Yeah! I headed for the door and she threw my clothes after me. The old lady who lives next door was outside and she got all worked up because I was naked, you know? So I told her, hey, lady, my crazy ass girlfriend is gonna beat the crap outta me and she called the cops on her.\"\n\n\"No further questions.\" Braden sat down with a look of relief.\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg, cross.\" Judge Blasko gave me a look that made me think that she was hoping I would kick this guy in the wack. I was happy to oblige. Mr. Virillo was goin' down, possibly for the first time in his sorry life. I stood up and advanced on him confidently. He seemed to shrink back.\n\n\"Mr. Virillo, you didn't sustain any injuries, did you?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nah. I was too fast for her.\" He started to laugh at his own stupid joke but I cut off his mirth with a quick follow-up question. I stood directly in front of him now and stared at him hard as I watched him squirm. I got the feeling that he wasn't used to women standing up to him. In fact, I suspected that was part of the reason that we were there.\n\n\"She shoved you so hard that you quote \"flew off of her\" unquote but you didn't have a single mark on you?\"\n\n\"Objection. Argumentative.\" Braden still had to do his job even if he hated the case.\n\n\"Overruled. Answer the question.\" I got the feeling that the judge really wanted to say, \"answer the question asshole.\" It must be hard to be a judge sometimes.\n\n\"I meant I got up fast and ran because I knew she wanted to beat the crap outta me.\" I walked over to the defense table and made a show of picking up the file and looking it over.\n\n\"There's nothing in your statement to the police that indicates that she threatened you, is there?\"\n\n\"No. I mean she didn't have to say it.\"\n\n\"You've never called the police before, have you?\"\n\n\"No, but there's always a first...\" I cut him off.\n\n\"You made a comment to her before she allegedly shoved you, didn't you?\"\n\n\"I think I may have said, 'better luck next time, babe' or something like that but I was kidding around, you know?\"\n\nThere were actually some boos from the spectator section and a voice called out, \"You're lucky you weren't with me, baby, or this would have been a murder trial!\"\n\n\"I want order in this courtroom!\" Judge Blasko banged her gavel. I glanced over at Braden. He was barely hiding his disgust for the \"victim\" in his case and he looked like he wanted to leave.\n\n\"After you said, 'better luck next time babe,' she said 'get off of me, you loser.' Correct?\"\n\n\"Something like that.\"\n\n\"You're six feet two inches and weight two hundred and twenty pounds, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"She's five foot two and weighs one ten, right?\"\n\n\"Sounds right.\"\n\n\"It doesn't say here that she was armed, does it?\"\n\n\"She wasn't, but she threw stuff at me.\" He was starting to sound like a petulant child.\n\n\"She threw your clothes _out the door,_ correct?\"\n\n\"But _I_ was out the door so it was the same thing.\" He looked like he wanted to stick his tongue out at me.\n\n\"And when your elderly neighbor threatened to call the police because you were outside unclothed and yelling obscenities yourself _that_ was when you claimed to be in fear for your safety, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Mr. Virillo gave me a mean look and sat there sulking. Inner-Gabrielle would have liked to have assaulted him for real. I suspected that most of the courtroom, including the judge and the prosecutor would have happily helped. I had accomplished what I set out to do and Mr. Virillo wasn't laughing now. He was starting to look worried and I didn't blame him. He might need a police escort to get out of this courtroom.\n\n\"No further questions.\" I sat back down. Ms. Murphy looked triumphant.\n\n\"Redirect?\"\n\n\"No, Your Honor.\" Braden wasn't stupid \"The Commonwealth rests.\"\n\n\"The Defense rests, Your Honor, and we'll waive argument unless the court deems it necessary.\"\n\n\"The Commonwealth waives argument and stands on the evidence as presented,\" Braden added. He was so sexy when he was being all prosecutorial even in dumbass cases like this one. Judge Blasko deliberated for five minutes and returned a verdict of not guilty. I had won a trial! In case you didn't know this, that didn't happen all that much for public defenders, even really experienced ones. And even better than winning, my client was actually innocent! That happened even less! Ms. Murphy thanked me and left with her head held high, to the vocal support of several women in the courtroom. Mr. Virillo attached himself to a deputy and slunk out. Braden came over to the defense table.\n\n\"Was it a hard whack?\" I asked with amusement.\n\n\"Come and talk to me. Please?\"\n\n\"Oh, poor Mr. Pierce,\" I said with a smirk.\n\n\"Maybe you can comfort me. Oh wait, I meant not _confront_ me,\" he teased, and I felt my cheeks heat up. He was much too good at teasing me.\n\n\"Fine, I'll come talk to you but you had better not leave before I'm finished.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't worry!\" he said with a laugh.\n\nI grabbed my stuff and stood closely beside him, (I wasn't taking any chances with this crowd), as we walked out together and headed for the same interview room we had gone to the day before.\n\n\"I know we've only had a couple of dates, and so we haven't really gotten very far with the physical side of our relationship yet,\" he said as soon as the door was closed behind us, \"but _please_ fucking tell me that you realize that I wasn't excusing his performance. I wish that she _had_ beaten him!\"\n\n\"If you say so,\" I teased. \"I don't know though, sometimes I think you guys all stick together.\"\n\n\"Oh come on! I wanted to apologize to every woman in that courtroom and then I wanted to grab you and take you back to my place and make you come like ten times.\"\n\n\"Oh _my_! You're much more 'virile – o' than I realized.\"\n\n\"Oh, that was bad.\" He winced.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I've been dying to say it.\" I gave him a lascivious look. \"Feel free to do that on Friday by the way. In fact, maybe I'll just add that to the list of things that I want to do, since it's my turn to choose.\" He was looking at me like maybe he wasn't going to wait until Friday.\n\n\"Just for the record, Harvard desperately wants to go down at this moment and there are only two things stopping me from just locking the door right now. One, that I don't want either one of us to ever associate sexual arousal with Vinnie Virillo, and two, I'm not really sure that it does lock.\"\n\n\"Ooh. I thought that I was excited just because I won a trial and exonerated an innocent woman, but after hearing that, I'm actually tingling.\"\n\n\"It's the adrenaline,\" he said with a suggestive look. \"Maybe I'll have to let you win more often.\"\n\n\"You didn't _let_ me win and it's more than adrenaline!\" I laughed.\n\n\"I'm only kidding.\" He grinned. \"I want to kiss you again, in lots of places, but I don't think I should. I'm pretty tingly too and I sense my good judgment rapidly going straight to hell.\"\n\n\"Adrenaline?\"\n\n\"And testosterone.\" His eyes roamed over my body and came to rest on the top button of my blouse. \"Shit! I'm so turned on right now. The fact that it's after that case is almost enough to make me seek counseling.\"\n\nI let my eyes roam a little too and I could actually _see_ how turned on he was. Oh my! I hadn't even touched him. He was a healthy boy. \"Okay,\" I said throatily. \"I'm feeling _too_ tingly now. I need to go or I'm going to start begging you to do some really naughty things and I don't want to wake up with you _here_ tomorrow morning.\" He took a deep breath and he was looking kind of flushed. I probably looked like I just ran ten miles.\n\n\"Yeah, we need to go. Now,\" he said clearing his throat and raking his fingers through his hair. He pulled his suit jacket closed and buttoned it. Then he took out some files to strategically carry in front of him. As we walked out together I wondered if we would really make it to Friday.\n\n**Wednesday**\n\n**Commonwealth v. McBride**\n\n\"I'm sorry Your Honor, but I just don't see how a Taco Bell burrito can be considered a deadly weapon,\" I said in exasperation.\n\n\"Perhaps Ms. Ginsberg hasn't eaten at Taco Bell lately,\" Braden responded.\n\n\"I don't know Mr. Pierce. I think I'm actually with Ms. Ginsberg on this one,\" Judge Channing replied. \"Okay, I'm going to dismiss the aggravated assault and bind this over for trial as a simple assault.\" He banged his gavel and I returned to counsel table. Braden came over with the judge's order a moment later.\n\n\"Aggravated assault? With a burrito?\"\n\n\"It was worth a try,\" he smiled. \"You could have pleaded it down. I would have offered you a good deal. And I personally think that Taco Bell food should be outlawed anyway.\"\n\n\"So you had an agenda.\"\n\n\"Mr. Pierce, call the next case,\" Judge Channing barked.\n\n\"Commonwealth vs. McBride,\" Braden called out and a tired-looking woman accompanied by a clearly irate man approached Braden. Another man, nervously fidgeting with his tie walked over to me, his slightly wacky-looking girlfriend trailing behind him.\n\n\"Who are all of these people?\" the judge asked.\n\n\"Your Honor, this is the victim, Ms. Parker and her boyfriend Mr. Connolly, who was a witness,\" Braden answered.\n\n\"And this is the defendant, of course, Mr. McBride, and his girlfriend Ms. Rodriguez who is a witness for the defense,\" I explained.\n\n\"A defense witness. Oh goody,\" Judge Channing said. \"Before we get too out of hand here, why don't you summarize the Commonwealth's case, Mr. Pierce?\"\n\n\"Your Honor, the Commonwealth will demonstrate that on May 11th of this year the victim, Ms. Parker was riding a city bus with her boyfriend, Mr. Connolly, when she felt her, uh, behind being grabbed. When she turned around she saw that it was the defendant, Mr. McBride who had engaged in said grabbing. Mr. Connolly had witnessed the action and the two males engaged in a verbal altercation. Mr. McBride is charged with indecent assault.\"\n\n\"And you have a defense, Ms. Ginsberg?\"\n\n\"I do, Your Honor.\"\n\n\"And that would be?\"\n\n\"Mistaken identity.\"\n\n\"Mistaken identity. Of course.\" Judge Channing didn't look pleased. \"Wayne!\" he yelled to his deputy. \"Get me some Alka Seltzer!\"\n\n\"Be right back, Your Honor,\" Wayne said, scurrying off. Braden and I each presented our witnesses. His side basically just said the same thing he had.\n\nMy side's testimony consisted of Ms. Rodriguez, affirming that she and my client were a very playful couple, and that he frequently grabbed her behind in public. Further, she was standing directly next to Ms. Parker on the very crowded bus. So crowded, that it would be difficult to tell one behind from another. She also pointed out that as soon as he had recognized his mistake, Mr. McBride had apologized profusely to Ms. Parker, but that Mr. Connolly had become quite hostile. In fact, Ms. Parker had seemed inclined to accept the apology, but Mr. Connolly would not let it go.\n\n\"And your argument is, Ms. Ginsberg?\" the judge asked when all testimony was complete.\n\n\"That first and foremost my client lacked criminal intent, but that this case is also ridiculous. Seriously, Your Honor, is this a worthy investment of the resources of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and the time of the Court of Common Pleas of Philadelphia? My client grabbed the wrong behind on a crowded bus and apologized to owner of said behind. The DA's office wants to have him labeled as a sex offender! Although Mr. Connolly is angry, it doesn't even seem like Ms. Parker wants to prosecute this case.\"\n\n\"Objection, Your Honor!\" Braden said, flashing me a warning look.\n\n\"Sustained. However, and I can't believe I'm going to say this twice in the same day, I think Ms. Ginsberg has a point, Mr. Pierce. This was a quick grab as I understand it? Not a prolonged fondle? And he immediately apologized. His girlfriend isn't even mad at him. That should tell you something. Can't we just resolve this?\"\n\n\"Judge!\" Mr. Connolly jumped in. \"He grabbed my girlfriend's ass! Wouldn't you be mad if some pervert did that to your girlfriend? \"\n\n\"Well... err, that's not relevant, Mr. Connolly,\" the judge answered.\n\n\"How about you?!\" He demanded, turning to Braden.\n\n\"Well, frankly...\" he began, but stopped as soon as he saw my glare. \"I'm not permitted to testify.\"\n\n\"Any guy would be mad!\" Mr. Connolly shouted. \"You can't just go around grabbing women's asses on the bus!\"\n\n\"It was a mistake and he apologized, Your Honor,\" I repeated emphatically.\n\n\"Perhaps if Mr. McBride had also apologized to Mr. Connolly,\" Braden suggested.\n\n\"To him?\" I asked indignantly. \"It was her a... behind and he apologized to her!\"\n\n\"Mr. Connolly happens to have exclusive access to that behind,\" Braden continued.\n\n\"Exclusive access?! What is she, an easement?\"\n\n\"ENOUGH!\" Judge Channing had finally reached his limit and slammed down his gavel. \"Mr. Connolly, if Mr. McBride apologizes to you would you let it go?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I guess. Just don't let it happen again!\"\n\n\"Hey man, I'm really sorry! Hell, I would be mad if somebody grabbed her ass too,\" he said gesturing toward Ms. Rodriguez.\n\n\"Yeah, okay,\" Mr. Connolly answered as the four of them walked off.\n\n\"Case dismissed,\" the judge said and banged his gavel again. That was the last case of the day and Braden and I both packed up our things to go.\n\n\"Perhaps we could have a little chat?\" I asked with a smile.\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"How about my office this time? It's closer,\" I answered. Public defenders had an onsite office just like prosecutors did. It was the place that we used to interview clients and witnesses. Because it was the end of the day it was practically empty. I went straight to one of the interview rooms and shut the door behind me.\n\n\"A burrito as a deadly weapon? A mistaken fanny grabber as a sex offender?\"\n\n\"There's a lot of pressure right now at my office to push things through. I threw out all of the higher charges on that case! It would have been resolved before trial.\"\n\n\"I know, but these are people's lives, Braden! Those stupid schmucks had to miss work to come here. There are so many serious cases out there, involving seriously bad people. Why are you guys wasting time with this garbage?\"\n\n\"I don't like it either! I have to do my job, though, just like you have to do your job when you tell a jury that it's reasonable to believe that a normal person throws a wine and cheese party in his pants!\"\n\nI tried not to laugh. Really, I did. I fought it for as long as I could and then I finally gave up and dissolved into the kind of laughter that makes you double over and pee your pants — which thankfully, I didn't do. Braden started to laugh with me and the two of us could barely breathe after a couple of minutes.\n\n\"So if we were on a date,\" I gasped, \"and someone mistakenly grabbed my ass on a bus, would you prosecute him as a sex offender?\"\n\n\"You really think,\" he gasped, wiping his eyes, \"that I would take you on a date on a bus?\" He almost choked, he was laughing so hard, and I lost it all over again. It took at least five minutes for the two of us to really calm down. My stomach ached and tears were streaming down my face.\n\n\"That felt really good.\" He smiled.\n\n\"Oh my God, yes! I needed to release some tension _so_ badly!\" I agreed. I saw his eyes darken and his gaze heat up and I breathed in deeply. That hot Braden sex look did me in every time. He smiled seductively and walked toward me slowly. \"Braden, we're in a public place.\" I laughed nervously as I backed up. \"Where we work.\" He kept coming and soon I felt the wall up against my back. \"And I know _that_ door doesn't lock,\" I said in a shaky voice.\n\n\"Hmm,\" he said, reaching around me and gently kneading my bottom. \"So, would this be a quick grab or prolonged fondle I wonder?\" he whispered. \"And while we're at it, do I have exclusive access to your ass, Gabrielle?\" he asked as he lowered his mouth toward mine.\n\n\"Of course you...\" I murmured just before he kissed me. The tension and the adrenaline had been building all week and like someone had opened a floodgate we just let ourselves go wild. He pinned me against the wall with his hips as I ground my own hips into him like a wanton hussy. Our tongues were engaged in a battle of a whole different kind now. I wrapped one leg around him to give me better friction and he reached for the hem of my skirt and began to push it up as I reached for his belt. I got it open quickly, even though I couldn't see what I was doing and we were writhing around against each other. It was amazing how good my fine motor skills were when I was highly motivated. _Holy shit_ , we were actually going to get seriously freaky right there and then. I would probably get aroused every time I looked at that wall. That could be awkward, considering that I came in here to negotiate plea bargains.\n\nI was wearing thigh-high stockings and panties, (I don't have the coordination to deal with pantyhose before I've had my morning coffee.) He pushed the edge of my panties aside and I felt his fingers slide in and begin stroking my clit. He broke the kiss, breathing hard.\n\n\"Jesus, Gabrielle. You're so wet,\" he said hoarsely. I slipped my hand into his trousers and under the waistband of his underwear.\n\n\"I believe that I have your attention too,\" I said, now officially panting. I couldn't see what was down there but I could certainly feel it. Trust me. It was hard to miss. No pun intended. I gripped him and slid my hand along his length from base to tip. It was quite a journey. He groaned and whispered in my ear.\n\n\"Oh that's it, baby. I need to be inside you right now. I'm going to nail you right up against this fucking wall.\" Suddenly someone knocked on the fucking _door_ and we froze.\n\n\"Yes?\" I called out, trying to make my voice sound normal.\n\n\"Gabrielle, they need you back at the main office.\"\n\n\"Tell them I'll be right there,\" I called out, praying that she wouldn't open the door.\n\n\"Okay.\" Footsteps disappeared down the hallway. We both let out a sigh of relief. After a few seconds of panting and letting my heart leave my throat and return to my chest cavity he stepped back.\n\n\"It's for the best,\" he said huskily. \"I say I want to be able to take my time with you and then I shove you up against a wall in a public defender interview room after a fanny grabber case.\"\n\n\"What, that's not romantic enough for you?\" I laughed, still sounding kind of out of breath.\n\n\"Besides, we would have had to figure out something else anyway because I don't have a condom with me. I'm not _that_ well prepared for court,\" he said sounding amused, as he refastened his belt.\n\n\"I'm on the pill,\" I said and I saw him hesitate. \"And I'm healthy,\" I added. He still didn't say anything. \"Of course I would understand if you wanted some verification.\"\n\n\"I trust you. If anything, I think I should show you verification that I'm healthy – which I am. I get tested regularly and I've always used a condom.\" I nodded and then that sunk in.\n\n\"Always? As in you've never not used one?\"\n\n\"Never,\" he answered. \"With my ex-girlfriends it was more about making sure that they never got pregnant. I figured that if I didn't plan to marry them I should do my share to make sure that I never knocked them up.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, I'm fine with that. It's no problem.\"\n\n\"Not so fast.\" He started to pace. I think he did that when he was mulling something over. I was starting to get to know his body language well. \"There's no reason to think your pill wouldn't be effective and I'm a twenty-seven-year-old attorney now, so even if it wasn't I could handle it.\"\n\nI wasn't sure that I knew what he meant by \"handle it\" but I had never forgotten to take it, even when I didn't technically need it, since it made my monthly visitor so much easier, so I wasn't worried about it not working. Finally he seemed to come to a conclusion. \"I think that I would like to try just relying on that, your pill I mean, if you're okay with that.\"\n\n\"I'm okay with that. Thanks for trusting me. I trust you too. I'm afraid that we'll have to continue this pre-sex talk at another time, though, because if I don't get back to my office the entire city will come to a halt – at least that's what they've trained me to believe.\"\n\n**Thursday**\n\n**Commonwealth v. Garcia**\n\nI could feel that my face was flushed and my pulse was racing. I knew that my eyes were bright and flashing with passion. I was so turned on I was almost shaking. I knew the look Braden was giving me, like blue heat, it was a look that said that he wanted me. Right here and right now. I stepped toward him and he stepped toward me... and then both of us realized that the other one wasn't backing up and that we were now literally toe to toe and practically on top of each other. We both stepped back and started circling – actually circling – like boxers in the ring.\n\n\"The knife was found among Mr. Garcia's possessions while he was sleeping in Fairmount Park. This case falls under the Open Fields Doctrine outlined in Oliver v. United States and the line of cases that interpret it.\" Braden's voice sounded low and tense.\n\n\"It was found in a paper bag that belonged to him. He had a Reasonable Expectation of Privacy in that bag. It's controlled by Katz v. United States,\" and the cases that interpret it,\" I shot back at him.\n\n\"Okay! I've heard enough argument and I have your briefs on the issue.\" Judge Channing looked vaguely uncomfortable. He was probably able to guess that there was more being suppressed here than evidence. \"Let's take a break. We'll reconvene in fifteen minutes.\" He banged his gavel and headed for his chambers. Braden raked his fingers through his hair and began to pace. I went to the defense table to catch my breath.\n\n\"I feel like I need a cigarette,\" Adam said. He looked flushed.\n\n\"Yeah, that was like watching porn,\" Jess added. Braden and Adam looked at her. \"I imagine.\"\n\n\"If you don't bang her soon, you two are going to wind up in the Supreme Court,\" Adam joked.\n\n\"Or in jail,\" Jess added.\n\n\"Braden, do you want to discuss that...\" I said a little desperately. We only had fifteen minutes but I really didn't feel like it was a choice at that point.\n\nApparently, he didn't either.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, before I even finished making something up for us to supposedly discuss. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out of the courtroom and headed for the DA's interview rooms.\n\n\"My office is closer,\" I said breathlessly.\n\n\"Our doors lock. I checked,\" he said letting go of my hand as we almost sprinted down the hall. We made it to the DA's office and burst into the waiting area... just to find all of the interview rooms occupied _. Shit! Shit! Shit!_ We stood waiting impatiently as a MUZAC version of Karma Chameleon quietly played in the background. I checked my watch. We had twelve minutes. A door opened and a prosecutor and a public defender, still discussing something, began to vacate a room. I saw the fifty-something assistant district attorney who had prosecuted Mr. Harris, the shoplifter, stand and turn in that direction. Before he could take a step, Braden climbed _over_ a coffee table and dove toward the door. The ADA and PD who were leaving gave him a startled look.\n\n\"Hey, Rob. How's it going?\" Braden asked with a smile.\n\n\"Great, Braden. You in a hurry?\"\n\n\"Yes! Actually, kind of an urgent matter. You don't mind do you, Gerald?\" he called out to the older prosecutor.\n\n\"Go right ahead. I can wait,\" he said looking a little confused. I smiled and waved.\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg?\" Braden called me, trying to sound nonchalant.\n\n\"Hello Mike,\" I greeted the PD as I rushed toward the room.\n\n\"Gabrielle. You didn't bring any files with you?\"\n\n\"Didn't need any,\" I said with a bright smile. \"I've got it all up here.\" I tapped my forehead and dashed into the interview room. Braden closed the door behind us and locked it. He quickly checked his watch, as he took his jacket off and threw it on the desk.\n\n\"We have ten minutes. I think that manually is our best bet.\" He actually picked me up and sat me down on the desk in the room, pushing my skirt up and my legs apart as I got his trousers open. His mouth was on mine in a second and we were practically devouring each other, we were kissing so wildly. He pushed my panties aside and slid two fingers up inside me, circling my clit with his thumb as I writhed against his hand. I reached in and freed him, gripping and stroking his impressive erection. I still hadn't gotten a visual of the Harvard endowment yet but I knew it was big.\n\nI broke our kiss to gulp some air and then attacked his neck, biting and licking and kissing him while building the rhythm of my strokes. I added my other hand to gently cup his balls.\n\n\"Yes or no?\" I panted.\n\n\"Yes,\" he groaned. \"Squeeze a little but be careful.\" I did what he asked and his breathing became ragged. His fingers slid in and out of me while he kept the pressure on my clit continuously, and I panted and tried not to moan. I had to bury my mouth against his neck to keep myself quiet. In case you were unaware, trying to come in a public place in ten minutes is not exactly an easy feat for a woman. I knew that I would have to work to pull this one off.\n\nI tried to relax my body and just let my orgasm build. Luckily, he had very skilled fingers. If anyone could get me there, he could. I felt myself getting closer and I just allowed the sensations to wash over me, emptying my mind of everything and just focusing on the intensely pleasurable feeling between my legs. Braden was breathing very heavily and I knew that he could probably come right then but that he was waiting for me. I just needed to... let... go.\n\nI gasped and my inner muscles clenched and pulsed as a tremor passed through my body. As soon as he sensed me coming he groaned and came in my hand. Thank God there was a box of tissues on that desk too. We stood there panting for a moment and then he kissed me lightly on the lips.\n\n\"I needed that,\" he said, as his breathing returned to normal.\n\n\"Me too.\" We managed to clean up enough to make it to the restroom in the lobby with a minute to spare, and we were just walking in the courtroom door when the judge took the bench. Both of us were noticeably calmer and more relaxed. Judge Channing wasn't ready to rule on the motion yet so we just picked up where we had left off and finished our cases. Afterward, we all packed up our stuff and got ready to go.\n\n\"So, did you two have a productive case conference?\" Adam asked with a smile.\n\n\"They must have, judging by how happy they looked when they got back,\" Jess commented. A deputy came into the courtroom and called out.\n\n\"We need a PD to talk to a guy in lock up! A Mr.\" he checked the file, \"DeWayne Johnson.\"\n\n\"Oh I know that case,\" Adam said. \"That's the gentleman from the North Philly \"social club\" charged with triple homicide.\"\n\n\"I'll take it,\" I said.\n\n\"Hold on!\" Braden stopped me. \"You can't go have a chat with a gang banger in lock up.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"He's violent.\"\n\n\"That's probably why he's charged with triple homicide, Braden. Although I will point out that he's innocent until proven guilty even if he is a gangsta.\"\n\n\"There must be a male PD around.\"\n\n\"I've interviewed violent males before and this guy's just a shooter anyway. I feel reasonably confident that they took the gun away from him when they arrested him.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but they'll lock you in with him. By the time they opened the door he could hurt you.\"\n\n\"Well they're not going to let him out to come see me. Where do you think I meet my clients? Starbucks?\"\n\n\"I don't know why, I guess I just never thought about _you_ going to do that kind of stuff. I thought your office would only send guys or at least not twenty-six-year-old women. It's a serious case and they should have a senior defender in there anyway.\"\n\n\"I'll just see what he needs and then if I can't or shouldn't handle it I'll get help, but I do this all the time. Half of the lawyers in my office are female and better to send a twenty-six-year-old than a sixty-year-old. Besides, my job is no more dangerous than yours is. You go out to actual crime scenes and you're the dude trying to put the bad guys away.\"\n\n\"I guess so.\" He didn't look happy about it though. \"I'm going to call you tonight.\"\n\n\"To assure yourself that I made it out alive?\"\n\n\"I want to talk to you about something and also continue our conversation from the other day.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThat night at nine o'clock I was sitting in bed drinking herbal tea and watching Antiques Roadshow just like most twenty-six-year-olds, (okay, not really), when Braden called.\n\n\"Mr. Pierce.\"\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg. I have a different kind of privacy issue to discuss with you. I know that tomorrow is supposed to be your choice but my parents want us to spend the weekend. Is that too weird for you? I know we just started dating and we're planning to get freaky tomorrow, so if it's too weird, just tell me.\"\n\n\"Are your parents going to be in the room when we get freaky?\"\n\n\"They likely won't even be in the house. They usually go out Friday nights after dinner. My younger brother and sister do too and I'm sure they'll invite us along but I would rather stay in and have hot, sweaty monkey sex with you.\"\n\n\"You're sure that they want me to come too? Maybe they just want to spend time with you before the fundraiser thing.\"\n\n\"I think that they _especially_ want you to come. Have I mentioned that they think twenty-seven is a good age to start thinking about settling down? Like I said, if this is too much pressure after two dates, then I completely understand. They're just extremely excited that I'm having a relationship of more than a couple of hours in duration. It's been a while.\"\n\n\"I'm okay with it, I guess, if you are. I'm sometimes a bit awkward around people I don't know well yet, but I clean up pretty well and I could probably make myself presentable.\"\n\n\"My brother Drew is much more socially awkward than you are.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" I laughed. \"He and I will probably get along well.\"\n\n\"I'm sure he'll _want_ to get along well with you. He's a twenty-three-year-old player.\"\n\n\"You must be his hero.\"\n\n\"I will be after he meets you. I'll tell my mom it's okay then, and that you can just stay with me. I'm sorry that this isn't exactly the sexiest location for us to finally get to sleep together.\"\n\n\"Braden, we made each other come in an interview room at the courthouse today.\"\n\n\"That's a good point.\" He laughed. \"That was also pretty impressive teamwork if I must say so myself. Are you in bed?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm watching Antiques Roadshow.\"\n\n\"Me too. So now we can say that we've watched TV in bed together.\"\n\n\"When Mark and Adam ask?\" There was silence on the other end. \"Hello? Are you still there?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I was just thinking about you being in bed with me. Today was just a stop gap. I need tomorrow night to get here quickly. Under other circumstances it might actually make _me_ a little uncomfortable to get to know you biblically for the first time in my parents' house, but I'm desperate. I'm starting to get really distracted and not always at convenient times. So should we finish the pre-sex talk so that we don't have to worry about it later?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" I answered.\n\n\"Do you have a favorite position?\"\n\n\"Whichever one I'm in at the moment. How about you?\"\n\n\"All of them. How many sexual partners have you had?\"\n\n\"Six, which includes the first one, even though that was a onetime encounter.\"\n\n\"Your first time was a one night stand?\"\n\n\"He wasn't just some guy I met at a frat party. He was a friend. I thought he was more than that but he was too happy being a player.\"\n\n\"How old were you?\"\n\n\"Eighteen. I was a freshman at Yale and he was a sophomore. It's weird, you remind me a little bit of him. You're not going to sleep with me and then decide that we should just be friends, are you?\"\n\n\"No. I always make it very clear upfront if I'm only interested in a one-night encounter and I don't tend to wind up being friends with the women I have them with.\"\n\n\"How old were you?\"\n\n\"Sixteen, but my girlfriend was eighteen.\"\n\n\"You gave it up for a cougar,\" I teased.\n\n\"Why do I remind you of him?\" he said, going back to the other topic. He seemed very interested in this.\n\n\"I don't know. He was tall and exceptionally good-looking like you. He sounded very well educated and upper class. He was very popular and he hooked up a lot. He was planning to go to law school. You're different in a lot of ways though too. You're much funnier and you and I have many more interests in common. He was very much a nineteen-year-old. You just hang out with guys who act like they're nineteen.\"\n\n\"He should have made things clear before he slept with you.\"\n\n\"I should have, too. In his defense, I don't think he knew that I was a virgin and I don't think he planned it. It just kind of happened. Besides, was it really surprising that a popular nineteen-year-old didn't want to get too tied down? I should have brought it up beforehand like I did with you.\"\n\n\"Yeah, by the time you got to me you were a crack negotiator. Good thing that Jessica was right and I wanted to agree with everything you asked for.\"\n\n\"Well, I wanted to agree to hook up with you. So you'll be lucky number seven.\"\n\n\"I promise that you'll get lucky. I'm going to let you go now so that you can rest up. I'm going to have some adrenaline and some testosterone flowing tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Sleep well.\"\n\n\"We'll both sleep better tomorrow night.\"\n\n**Friday**\n\n**Commonwealth v. Franklin**\n\n\"Your Honor, my client has no criminal record. The marijuana in this case was for personal use and represented a lapse in judgment, nothing more. We would like to work out a settlement with the District Attorney's Office in an effort to avoid prosecution.\"\n\n\"Mr. Pierce?\" Judge Channing asked.\n\n\"Normally that wouldn't be a problem Your Honor, but there was just so much marijuana involved in this case – nearly a pound.\" Braden doubled checked his notes and glanced at my client.\n\n\"But, there were no packaging materials, no cutting materials, no large sums of money, no weapons, nothing to indicate that my client was dealing, so regardless of the amount, the evidence points to personal use.\"\n\nJudge Channing turned to my client with a withering look. \"Ms. Franklin, how old are you?\"\n\n\"Eighty-two in July, Judge, and still as lively as ever.\" She smiled.\n\n\"Obviously,\" he said scathingly. \"And all of this marijuana was for you alone?\"\n\n\"Well, it was my whole stash, honey,\" she answered earnestly. I winced a little.\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg has explained that you can't do this anymore?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" She sighed heavily. \"It's not worth the trouble. I'm going back to whiskey.\"\n\n\"That's good. I mean, well. That's... acceptable. Okay, I'm going to advise the District Attorney's office to work out an agreement for community service.\"\n\n\"Understood, Your Honor,\" Braden replied.\n\nMs. Franklin wobbled off as I returned to counsel table. Braden walked over to hand me the order.\n\n\"Seems like a fun gal,\" he said.\n\n\"I'll trade you sexual favors for the old lady's freedom,\" I joked quietly.\n\n\"You're on.\"\n\n\"Mr. Pierce! Call the next case,\" Judge Channing bellowed.\n\n\"Commonwealth v. Wagner!\" Braden called. My client, dressed in a hat with ear-flaps and a tee-shirt with a picture of a smiling donkey and a caption that read, \"I Lost my Ass in Las Vegas\" walked forward. It boggled my mind that this morning when he had gone through his closet _that_ had jumped out at him as the most appropriate thing to wear to court.\n\n\"What's this about?\" Judge Channing asked, giving my client an irritated look.\n\n\"Your Honor,\" Braden began, the Commonwealth will establish that on April 14th of this year Mr. Scott Wagner stopped Mr. Franklin Jordan with what turned out to be a toy gun, and demanded that he drive him around from ATM machine to ATM machine as he withdrew money from his _own_ account. He's charged with carjacking.\"\n\n\"I'm asking for a psychiatric evaluation, Your Honor, and I request that my client remain out on bail.\"\n\n\"Granted! Court adjourned. Get me out of here.\" Judge Channing got up and left without saying goodbye. I was pretty sure that he was getting close to retirement.\n\nBraden turned to me with a smile. That smile always caused my tummy to flip flop and it probably would even if we were together until I was Ms. Franklin's age.\n\n\"I'm going to drop these files off and then I'm going back to my place to finish packing, and look forward to having carnal knowledge of you tonight.\"\n\n\"I like a man with goals.\" We packed up our files.\n\n\"I'll finally know what it feels like to go au natural _,_ \" he said with a wicked smile.\n\n\"Come as you are,\" I joked.\n\n\"Oh, that was _really_ bad!\" We grabbed our briefcases and headed out of the courtroom and toward the elevators.\n\nWe discussed some details about the day's cases on the elevator ride down and then said goodbye at the door to the criminal courts building as we headed off to our respective offices. I could swear I heard him whistling as he walked away. Even though I was a bit less obvious about it, I too was quite happy at the thought of once again entering the world of the sexually active. The fact that I would be making my re-entry with Braden was still pretty amazing to me. This man had starred in nearly all of the recent fantasies that accompanied those very special \"private\" moments alone in my room at night with my battery-operated friend.\n\n# CHAPTER EIGHT\n\nI got back to my office and filed my paperwork. Jess wasn't back yet. My phone buzzed and I saw my dad's number. I had spoken to my mom earlier in the week, so I knew that he had been briefed.\n\n\"So, honey, how'd you meet this guy? In court?\"\n\n\"Yeah. We're always in front of the same judge. I was interested in him for a while, and Jess kept saying that she thought he liked me too, so one night when I saw him out I flirted with him.\"\n\n\" _You_ flirted with _him_?\" He sounded dubious.\n\n\"Yeah, I flirted. I can flirt. I may not do it a lot, but I'm capable.\"\n\n\"Hey, I'm not complaining. I was starting to worry that you were going to become one of those ladies with all the cats. I'm glad you found somebody you like. I like his dad's politics too by the way. He's a smart guy. Of course I can't tell anybody that after that piece in the paper or somebody might read too much into it and harass you or something.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Thanks to my friends at the Times, the extremists think I'm trying to control the government and the conspiracy nuts think that I already control the government. Now my daughter's dating a senator's son. Who knows what they'll come up with?\"\n\n\"I don't care what they say. I don't take dating advice from conspiracy nuts and extremists.\"\n\n\"Just be careful, sweetheart and if anybody bothers you let me know. I'm not exactly strapped for cash. I could arrange for you to have some security, or at least a very good alarm system. If nothing else I'll buy you a nice dog.\"\n\n\"I appreciate it, but I'm more worried about saying something stupid when I meet his family than I am about some guy who thinks he saw Jim Morrison working at Wendy's.\"\n\n\"Hey, don't you be nervous. Anybody would be lucky to have you.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Dad.\"\n\n\"Your mom and I would be really happy if it worked out. At least we would know that this guy wasn't after your money. He could probably even help you figure out what to do with it.\"\n\n\"Good. Maybe you could worry a little less then. I love you. Tell Ma I said, \"hi.\"\n\n\"Okay sweetheart, I love you too. Have fun with the guy you picked up.\"\n\n* * *\n\nAt five-thirty on the dot I was stowing my overnight bag and a garment bag in the trunk of Braden's BMW. Even with rush-hour traffic it wouldn't be very long until we reached the Pierce home in the suburbs. Braden was still in a very good mood and I sensed that it wasn't just because he would be getting lucky later. I suspected that he was genuinely happy to see his family. Hopefully, that meant that he had very nice parents. He did say that his family was exceptionally close. I also hoped that he was right about them not minding if we shared a room.\n\n\"So, did your ex-girlfriends share a room with you?\"\n\n\"I've never invited any of them to stay with my family. I should warn you that my parents are probably going to find it significant that I invited you, and they may throw out a few hints.\"\n\n\"Believe me, you haven't experienced hinting until you've met Ben and Judy Ginsberg.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" He glanced at me again with an amused look.\n\n\"Don't be surprised if you go to shake my dad's hand and he gives you a stack of college brochures for our future children.\"\n\n\"He doesn't own a shotgun or anything, does he?\" Braden joked.\n\n\"Are you kidding me? My father considers spicy food to be a deadly weapon. He probably would have backed you in that burrito case. Besides, he's a businessman. He just destroys people financially.\"\n\n\"Well, that's a relief.\"\n\n\"To tell you the truth my father is my hero. I've always said that he's like the most romantic guy in the universe because he comes from a pretty impressive family but he married my mom even though her family is completely nuts.\"\n\n\"He must love her.\"\n\n\"Yeah he does, and she loves him.\" I smiled.\n\n\"I'd like to meet them.\"\n\n\"I'll introduce you to them. It's just the rest of my relatives that I'll have to hide from you.\"\n\n\"I think that you'll like my parents. They're nice people and they love each other a lot too.\"\n\n\"Thanks for introducing me to them. That's nice.\"\n\n\"I apologize in advance for everything that comes out of my brother's mouth.\"\n\n\"Ha! You should meet my bubbe! That's my grandmother. She's the most offensive person I know.\"\n\n* * *\n\nIt wasn't much longer before we left the highway and started driving along more country-like roads, peppered with gorgeous homes. Eventually we pulled into a long drive and approached a Georgian-style house with a gray stone facade and white trim. My family's brownstone on the Upper East Side was stylish, but this place was beautiful. It looked very spacious and I guessed that it had at least five or six bedrooms.\n\nAs we got out of the car a group of people came out to meet us. They all immediately headed straight for Braden and then there was a lot of hugging going on. Even though Braden wasn't far away from here, they were, obviously, a close family. There was certainly no question that they were related. This was one attractive group of tall blonde people. Braden's father was handsome and distinguished-looking, the gold streaks in his hair mixed with gray. He didn't have the aggressively friendly demeanor that a lot of politicians have, but rather, he seemed laid back and genuinely warm. Braden's mother was beautiful. She had dark blonde hair and the same blue eyes that Braden had. Eyes, which at the moment were fixed on me, and thankfully, looked friendly.\n\n\"You must be Gabrielle,\" she said in a soft voice. \"Oh my! You're gorgeous.\" She gave me a warm smile. \"I'm Claire and we're so happy you're here.\" She came over and pulled me into a friendly hug. These were very huggy people.\n\n\"I guess you figured out that that's my mom and that's my dad. This is my brother, Drew and my sister, Beth.\" Beth looked like a younger version of Claire and Drew looked like a younger version of Braden, who looked like a younger version of his dad.\n\n\"Wow,\" Drew said. \"She's hot.\" Braden turned and glared at him. \"What? Mom said she was gorgeous!\"\n\n\"It's great to meet you,\" Beth broke in, and came over to hug me too.\n\n\"We're very pleased to have you, Gabrielle,\" Braden's dad said, hugging me of course. \"I'm Tyler.\" Wow. I got to call Senator Pierce Tyler.\n\n\"Thanks for inviting me. It was very thoughtful of you.\"\n\n\"They were thrilled to hear you were coming!\" Drew offered. \"They're hoping Braden will finally settle down.\"\n\n\"Drew,\" Tyler said in a warning tone.\n\n\"What did I say now?\" Drew asked, sounding exasperated. He started walking toward me when Braden stopped him.\n\n\"Where do you think you're going?\"\n\n\"Everybody else got to hug her.\"\n\n\"You already said hello.\"\n\n\"Actually, if you'll recall, I said that she was hot and you got all huffy.\"\n\n\"Drew, please help me with their bags,\" Tyler said, intervening. \"Braden, why don't you help us while Mom and Beth make Gabrielle comfortable and get to know her better?\"\n\n\"You need both of us for that? Maybe I want to get to know her better too.\" His father and Braden both gave him a stern look. I was definitely starting to understand what Braden had said about Drew.\n\nI followed Claire and Beth into the marble-floored entry and off to one of the dark paneled doors down a hallway to the side of a large staircase. It turned out to be a parlor with wide windows overlooking the rear lawn. The room was done in a combination of burgundy and cream, and although it was very tasteful, it also looked warm and inviting. There was a fireplace and above it hung a picture of a blonde man dressed in colonial garb. Yep, the Pierces had been here for a while.\n\n\"Please sit down and make yourself comfortable,\" Claire said with a smile.\n\nI sat down on a love-seat while Claire and Beth took the one across from me. We chatted for a bit and I filled them in on more details about my family and my life. I learned that Beth was twenty-five and working in the education department of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and that Drew was a law student at Georgetown, just like Braden had been. Being in the middle, Beth was close to both of her brothers. She assured me that even though Braden and Drew bickered, they were close despite the four year age difference. Claire shared that she spent most of her time involved in charity work, and in running their family foundation. I had a feeling that being a senator's wife also came with its share of responsibilities.\n\n\"So did you and Braden meet in court?\" Claire asked.\n\n\"Yes, he and I have been assigned cases in front of the same judge frequently.\"\n\n\"Is he a good lawyer?\" Beth asked.\n\n\"Yes, he's a very good lawyer.\" Beth and Claire smiled at each other and I realized that they were proud, which I found very cute.\n\n\"Is he as good a boyfriend as he is a lawyer?\" Beth asked.\n\n\"We just started dating but so far he's been really thoughtful and easy-going. He's said some really sweet things too.\"\n\n\"Braden?!\" Beth laughed and glanced at her mom who was smiling happily.\n\nJust then we heard the men returning from upstairs and Claire let everyone know that it was time to head in for dinner. We entered a formal dining room with a table beautifully prepared. We had all settled in and a housekeeper had come out with a soup course when Drew spoke up.\n\n\"So you two are sleeping together?\" Beth dropped her spoon and Claire nearly choked on the water she was sipping.\n\n\"Drew!\" All of the Pierces said in unison.\n\n\"What? I just meant are they sharing a room. Is it a secret or something?\"\n\n\"What it is, is none of your business,\" Braden said testily.\n\n\"I was just asking!\" He ate a spoonful of his soup. \"I was wondering...\"\n\n\"The answer is no,\" Tyler added.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because your brother is twenty-seven and an attorney and you're twenty-three and a law student,\" his father replied.\n\n\"And what? I have to make you worry that I'll never get married before you'll let me bring a girl home with me?\"\n\n\"You can bring a girl home,\" Braden answered. \"You just can't sleep with her.\"\n\n\"Okay Braden!\" Tyler warned. \"Please remember that you _are_ twenty-seven.\"\n\n\"Seriously, guys, this is not even close to polite conversation,\" Beth chimed in. I actually found the conversation rather amusing, truthfully. Drew kind of cracked me up. Talk turned to the fundraiser, though, and we continued with that as the soup was cleared and dinner was served.\n\nThe conversation then turned to what everyone's plans were for the evening. Drew and Beth had planned to go out to a club with a group of mutual friends and Tyler and Claire were planning to go out and catch a movie. Braden and I were invited along with both groups but he politely declined on our behalf, citing a stressful week and our desire to rest up before the fundraiser the next day. Drew snorted derisively and Beth kicked him under the table none too subtly.\n\nBy dessert I was starting to nervously anticipate the evening ahead. The fact that Braden had been running his fingers along my inner thigh for several minutes didn't exactly help me to calm down. It was already past seven-thirty. It couldn't be long before the others left. When we were finished with our dessert and coffee Drew and Beth went off to get ready and Claire and Tyler retired to the family room, where Braden and I joined them. I was being quieter than usual, but so far during this visit, I hadn't done anything awkward and the Pierces were so nice that I had started to relax with them.\n\n\"You know, Braden, there will likely be a lot of familiar faces there tomorrow and I'm not sure you'll be thrilled to see all of them,\" Claire said. \"Marla might possibly be there for example.\"\n\n\"Oh great!\" He cringed and turned to me. \"Marla's a shallow, narcissistic harpy who I used to date years ago. She still can't believe that I broke up with her.\"\n\n\"Can't believe it as in 'how could he have done that?' or can't believe it as in she thinks you're still her boyfriend?\" I asked a little nervously.\n\n\"She doesn't think I'm still her boyfriend, but she refuses to believe that anybody wouldn't _want_ to be her boyfriend, including me.\" I could tell that I was just going to love Marla.\n\n\"Cameron will be there for sure,\" Tyler added.\n\n\"Terrific.\" He turned to me again. \"Cameron's my cousin. Marla cheated on me with him. I should probably be thankful since I wanted an excuse to break up with her anyway, but I wasn't in on the plan, you know?\"\n\n\"It was so long ago, Braden. I wish that the two of you would just put it behind you,\" Claire said.\n\n\"Yeah, we'll see. I do think that maybe I'll have a little chat with him. There's something I'd like to ask him about.\"\n\n\"The Masons will likely be there with Felicity,\" she went on.\n\n\"The Masons want to marry their daughter off to me.\" Braden explained. \"The mother, Mrs. Mason, is a snob with the warmth of a glacier and her daughter, Felicity, reminds me of Wednesday Addams but more Goth. I think the father might be a hologram.\"\n\n\"And will you be marrying the lovely Felicity?\"\n\n\"I would be more likely to marry Cameron.\"\n\n\"Cole Stephenson will be there of course,\" Tyler noted, looking uncomfortable.\n\n\"We need to steer clear of him for sure,\" Braden said, giving me a disgusted look. \"He's a state representative and a complete political animal. He would sell his soul to get elected to a federal congressional seat. He's also a social climber and a lecher. His eyes won't leave your cleavage.\"\n\n\"This sounds like a fun party.\"\n\n\"Most of the folks who'll be there will be quite nice,\" Claire said in an apologetic tone.\n\n\"I'll just smile and nod a lot,\" I replied\n\n\"Braden should do that more often. We're hoping you'll be a good influence,\" Claire said to me.\n\n\"Maybe I'll be a bad influence,\" Braden said, smiling at me in a way that made me glance at my watch. It was almost eight-thirty already. Claire noticed my gesture and quickly checked her own watch.\n\n\"We'd better get going, Tyler. I don't want to miss the beginning of the movie.\"\n\nClaire and Tyler wished us a good night and excused themselves. As soon as they were gone Braden turned to me with a naughty smile. Without a word he pulled me onto his lap and began nuzzling my neck. I nuzzled him back and we worked our way to each other's mouths and started kissing. Just as our tongues were becoming deliciously entwined I heard Drew.\n\n\"Christ, Braden, can't you even wait until we leave the house?\"\n\n\"Braden's head fell back onto the top of the sofa in exasperation. I slid off of his lap and felt myself blushing as I tactfully retreated to my own seat and straightened out the skirt of my short summer dress.\n\n\"How many rooms are in this fucking house, Drew, and you have to be in this one right now?\"\n\n\"Just be thankful that we're all going out so you can \"rest\" in privacy.\" He made the little air quotes to make it clear that he didn't think we would be resting.\n\n\"You didn't have to go out,\" I said, feeling embarrassed. Had the Pierces planned their social outings around us having sex?\n\n\"Don't listen to him!\" Braden said. \"They go out all the time on Friday nights when they're here.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Gabrielle,\" Drew laughed. \"I'm just giving Braden a hard time.\" He sat down in a chair next to us and sipped a Coke.\n\n\"He's just jealous.\"\n\n\"Damn right I'm jealous. You get to sleep with your girlfriend tonight and I'm going out with my sister. There would be something wrong with me if I weren't jealous, dude.\"\n\n\"Stop thinking about my sex life.\"\n\n\"Just make sure you don't remind me of it later. Don't forget that my room is right next to yours and the walls are thin.\"\n\n\"Didn't you have to be somewhere?\"\n\n\"In case you're wondering, Theresa left for the night already and Mom and Dad left for the movies. They'll probably be back by midnight. Beth and I are leaving in about five minutes. I'm not sure what time we'll be home though.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the update,\" Braden said dryly.\n\n\"Just trying to be helpful.\" Drew grinned.\n\n\"Perhaps we'll see you out,\" Braden said getting up and walking over to the door. Drew got up and walked out to the entry where Beth was already waiting.\n\n\"Have a good night,\" Beth said with a smile and a wave.\n\n\"Enjoy your rest,\" Drew said, mimicking her gesture and singsong voice.\n\nAs soon as the door closed I started to walk toward Braden but he held up a hand, signaling me to wait. A minute later Drew came back in.\n\n\"What?\" He laughed. \"I forgot my phone!\" He walked over to a writing table where a cell phone was lying next to a large vase of flowers. \"Don't worry, Braden. I'm really leaving now. You can rest in every room in the house if you want.\" He left again and Braden walked over to the window and watched them pull away. Then he turned toward me with a very happy smile. He walked over and took my hand and led me upstairs.\n\n# CHAPTER NINE\n\nWhen we got to the top of the stairs we walked down a long hallway and Braden stopped in front of a door on the left. He opened it and stepped aside for me to enter, coming in behind me. He walked over to turn on a bedside lamp and then turned the overhead light off, making it much more intimate. He went over to his music player, found something on his iPod, and seconds later I heard BB King singing the sexy blues song _Need Your Love So Bad._ He walked slowly toward me, staring into my eyes with a positively sinful look. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.\n\n\"Do you know how much I want you, Gabrielle?\" he asked softly when he reached me. My legs felt like they were going to give out and I wasn't sure that I saw consciousness in my immediate future. I was already too aroused to be nervous anymore, so I freed my inner hussy. (Note, I said hussy.)\n\n\"Show me,\" I whispered.\n\nHe put his hands on my hips and pulled me tightly against him. I immediately knew how much. The answer was pressing into my lower abdomen. He leaned down and kissed me almost ravenously, his tongue exploring everywhere and rubbing up against mine sensuously. I felt a little overpowered by it but I liked it too. His lips moved away from my mouth and toward my ear. \"Does that give you a better idea?\" he whispered seductively.\n\n\"It gives me lots of ideas. What are you going to do about it?\" My inner hussy had obviously decided that she liked being freed.\n\n\"Saucy wench.\" He smiled wickedly. \"I may have to spank you.\" He sank down to kneel at my feet, removing my shoes and tossing them aside. Then he ran his hands up my bare legs and under my skirt, letting his fingers slide into my panties, and pushing them down over my hips. They dropped to the floor and I stepped out of them and kicked them aside. Fixing me with that hot look of his he reached around behind me, unzipped my dress and unhooked my bra. In one easy move they both hit the floor. If there were an Olympic category for undressing women he would be a serious contender for the gold. He had some mad skills. There were a few drunken nights in college when I could have really used his help. I just watched in lust-dazed fascination as he stepped back and starting at my feet let his eyes slowly trail up my bare body.\n\n\"You're beautiful everywhere, Gabrielle,\" he said huskily. \"Undress me.\"\n\nMy hands were shaking but I managed to slide them up under his tee-shirt and ease it up. Being taller than me he helped out a little. When it dropped to the floor I nearly joined it. _Good lord!_\n\nI had never seen a body like that. All of his muscles were well-defined. He was the first guy I had ever been with who had a six-pack that didn't say Budweiser on it. I swallowed and let out a slightly ragged breath as I looked up and saw he was smiling at me with amusement.\n\n\"You're so... oh my God.\" Seven years of higher education and that was the best I could come up with.\n\n\"I take it you like my body, too?\"\n\n\"You can take whatever you want looking like that, mister.\"\n\nI made my now really shaky hands move to his pants and I opened the button and pulled down the zipper, easing them over his hips. They fell to the floor and he stepped out of them. Then he kicked off his own shoes and pulled off his own socks, which was just as well. Socks really aren't all that sexy, and it got us to the main event that much faster. All that was left was a pair of blue striped boxers. I had a feeling he was a boxers guy. I sucked in a deep breath and looked up into his eyes. Then I eased them off (having previously learned that yanking could be a dangerous thing when it came to aroused men and underwear) and he stepped out of them, holding my gaze. I looked down and for the first time actually _saw_ what I had been working in those interview rooms in the courthouse. My eyes grew wide as my mouth popped open _. Holy freaking moly!_ Harvard really was well endowed!\n\nStanding there in all of his naked glory he looked so damned good I could have sold tickets.\n\nAnd there were plenty of sexy, appreciative, erotic, even romantic, things I could have said at that moment, but instead I looked him deeply in the crotch and said, \"I'm not sure that's going to fit.\" _Huh?_ His brain wasn't running on a full blood supply either, so it took a moment for that comment to sink in. No pun intended. When it did he sounded very clearly amused.\n\n\"Don't worry, baby. We'll make sure it fits.\" He backed me up until my knees hit the edge of the bed. Then he sat me down, pushed my back down flat, knelt on the floor in front of me, and hooked my knees over his shoulders. _Christ on a cracker!_ Harvard was going down.\n\nHe nibbled and kissed and licked his way up my right thigh, or maybe my left, I wasn't exactly coherent at the moment. Then he ran out of leg. His tongue entered me. I entered orbit. And I didn't exactly go quietly. (You think those rockets were loud?) He held me down while my hips bucked and I moaned loudly. Then like he was lapping up a melting ice cream cone he slowly dragged his tongue higher and suddenly I could feel every nerve ending in my entire body light up.\n\nWhile his mouth worked me into a frenzy with little strokes and licks and circles, the volume of my appreciation continued to rise. His fingers slipped inside me and his lips covered my clit. When he actually started to suck, I started to scream. Personally, I was glad that Drew had reviewed the family itinerary because at that point even the neighbors knew his name. I let go of the blankets that I had in a death grip and buried my hands in his hair, still trying to ride his mouth and hand, completely delirious with pleasure. I swear to God I don't think I could have told you my full name at that point. I was as close to really and truly passing out as I had ever gotten in my life.\n\nHe paused for a minute, sounding a little out of breath. \"Gabrielle, baby, you're going to come. Do you want to finish this way or with my cock inside you?\"\n\n\"Yes please,\" I moaned. I felt him smile against me and start to go back to making me crazy when his question finally made it into space, where my brain was still floating around. \"Inside me! I want your cock inside me! Please!\" I gasped desperately. He gave a happy little growl and then he crawled up onto the bed and pulled me along with him as he sat up straight with his back braced up against the headboard.\n\n\"Come and sit on my lap,\" he said. Now, technically, people had been saying that to me since I was a child, but trust me, nobody else has said it quite like _that_. Inner-Gabrielle sang the Hallelujah chorus. He didn't have to ask twice. I crawled over and straddled him and he pulled me up onto my knees and buried his face against my breasts, latching on to my nipple and sucking vigorously on one side and then switching to the other. I could only whimper and moan at that point. My legs trembled so hard that I had to brace my arms on his shoulders so that I wouldn't collapse as he positioned himself at my entrance.\n\n\"Look at me, Gabrielle,\" he demanded. And I fixed my eyes on him dazedly. He gave me the hottest Braden sex look I had ever seen. \"Let's see if it fits now, baby,\" he said in a voice that sounded like he was barely holding on to his self-control. His hands grabbed my hips and pushed me down as he slid slowly inside me inch by inch. Needless to say, it fit perfectly. He was buried in me up to the hilt and we just stared at one another in stunned silence for a second.\n\n\"Oh my God!\" He finally gasped and his voice was strained. \"I can't believe how good you feel. I think I want to live here.\" He seemed to be enjoying his new experience.\n\nI was incapable of producing anything coherent at the moment so rather than throwing out some witty banter in response I said something like \"Ohgaahaad\" instead. Feel free to quote me.\n\nHe bent his knees, held my hips and started to move under me, thrusting upward, sliding me up and down on his cock in smooth strokes, pulling my hips slightly forward so that my clit was coming into direct contact with his pubic bone every time I took all of him. I saw all kinds of bright colored lights flashing in front of my eyes. I was either more sexually stimulated than I had ever been in my life or the police were parked on his lawn — a realistic possibility, with all the screaming I had been doing. Vaguely I remembered that I was on top and I should probably contribute something to the effort. I started moving up and down under my own power, slowly at first and gradually picking up speed.\n\n\"Oh Gabrielle,\" he groaned. \"That's it, baby. Just like that. Oh yes! Oh fuck! You feel so good.\" I felt myself rapidly climbing upward toward an amazing orgasm. \"Come on, baby,\" he urged. \"Give it to me.\" I finally arrived at the summit, celebrated madly, and promptly fell over the edge of the cliff before I could even plant a flag. My body shook and he, along with everyone else within a mile radius, got to hear me scream his name again one last time. Wow, he even knew when I was going to come. Such a smart guy. I collapsed against him, shaking and bathed in sweat and he hugged me tightly and stroked my hair. Such a sweet guy too. I wanted to nominate him for something. Take that Vinnie Virillo. That's how a real man does it.\n\nWhen I was able to stop gasping for air and some oxygen returned to my brain, I became aware of the fact that he was still very hard and still buried deep inside me. It would be impolite to just leave him like that. Besides, I was never one to waste. There were people going to bed horny all over the world that night.\n\n\"So what do you want to do now, Harvard?\" I asked shakily. He smiled at me with a dazed look and kissed me lustily. Then he smacked me playfully on the ass.\n\n\"Get up, saucy wench and grab onto the headboard.\" My stomach did a flip flop. That kind of sexy should come with a warning label. I got up and facing the wall, grabbed onto the headboard as instructed. He knelt behind me and pulled my hips back further so I was leaning over a little more. Then he nudged my knees further apart and with one hand cupping my breast and one hand stroking my clit he leaned over me and began kissing my neck as he positioned himself at my entrance again. When he pushed into me, I moaned and pushed back against him. He began rolling his hips and built up into a steady rhythm, and after some indeterminate amount of time, (What do you think, I was checking my watch?), I felt myself about to come again. He was still multitasking impressively, rolling and fondling and stroking and kissing, when he whispered in my ear.\n\n\"Oh baby. Your pussy feels so fucking good. I almost can't take it.\"\n\nAnd that was the moment when I discovered that having Braden Pierce talk dirty to me during sex was enough to drive me out of my freaking mind. I completely lost control again as my muscles clenched and I trembled and moaned. When the last wave of sensation had passed he urged me down on to my back and he crawled on top of me, bracing himself above me with his arms. He leaned down and kissed me deeply and then he eased into me again. I groaned and he started moving, slowly at first and then faster and faster. I just wrapped my legs around his waist and held on for the ride. I watched him above me with fascination; his eyes were dark, his pupils dilated, skin flushed, hair damp, a sheen of sweat covering him. He was breathtaking.\n\n\"Gabrielle!\" he bit out in a hoarse voice and suddenly he groaned and went still, I felt him shudder and then he collapsed on me. I took his weight for a few seconds but he quickly rolled onto his back and pulled me onto his chest. I heard his heart hammering beneath me as his breathing gradually slowed down. \"So good,\" he said, sounding stunned.\n\n\"Well, you were right. It fit.\" I panted. I decided that I really liked my inner hussy.\n\n\"So good,\" he said again. \"No words.\" Our breathing gradually began to return to normal.\n\n\"Wow, we've been having sex for almost an hour,\" I said, finally glancing at my watch. I was still wearing my watch? Jesus, I really was a lawyer.\n\n\"That means we still have two more hours before my parents get home.\"\n\n\"What are you, seventeen?\"\n\n\"I can go again after I recover. Believe me, it won't be a problem. Gabrielle, I have never experienced anything in my entire life that has felt that good.\"\n\n\"Me neither. Braden, that was incredible. It's never ever been like that before.\"\n\nWe cuddled up with each other, nuzzled and petted, and gave each other sweet little kisses everywhere. Then our cuddling turned to fondling and soon Braden was very skillfully employing his oral skills again as I informed him loudly over and over that his tongue was the Eighth Wonder of the World. I finished that way that time but like the Energizer Bunny Braden just kept going, burying his face gleefully between my breasts and licking, biting and sucking at will.\n\nFaster than you could say, \"Harvard takes Yale\" we were going at it full throttle again. This time around we didn't confine ourselves to bed. We explored the floor, an armchair and ultimately his desk. After all, it had worked well in the interview room. It worked even better with me lying back and him leaning over me which placed him at an incredibly intense angle and created wonderful friction right where I needed it. We definitely had a winner, folks. I was becoming very fond of desks in general, and I'll tell you, that desk was one quality piece of craftsmanship. The wall it was slamming into, however, may have sustained some damage.\n\nMy voice was a bit hoarse from all the screaming I had done earlier, but the desk sex was just so inspiring that I managed to loudly express myself vocally one last time. If I'm not mistaken, I believe that I begged Braden not to stop, told him that I loved how big he was and I had never felt so full, let him know I had never been with anyone who had ever fucked me so well, and then made it abundantly clear that I was coming. Now, I may not have all of that exactly right. I was, after all, a bit distracted. Of course, there was someone else who could verify the accuracy of my recollection if necessary. (As I found out later.)\n\nWe were collapsed in an exhausted heap, panting back in bed and close to passing out when we heard Claire and Tyler arrive and call out that they were home. Braden kissed me and smiled.\n\n\"Need to \"rest\" for real now,\" he said sounding like he was half asleep already.\n\n\"Night,\" I replied and although I'm not sure, obviously, I think I was unconscious before I got to the last \"t.\"\n\n# CHAPTER TEN\n\nI woke up the next morning with a feeling of contentment I hadn't experienced in... Well, okay, ever. Contentment has never really been my middle name. My middle name was actually Sara but it should have been angst.\n\nI moved to stretch and my arm smacked into something warm and hard. I opened my eyes and saw a beautiful blonde guy staring down at me. A second later it sunk into my sleep-addled brain, the beautiful blonde guy was mine. It wasn't a dream. Thank God.\n\n\"How long have you been awake?\" I asked.\n\n\"Not long.\"\n\n\"And what are you doing?\"\n\n\"Watching you sleep, and thinking.\"\n\n\"Thinking about what?'\n\n\"How I've never wanted to just watch a woman sleep before.\"\n\n\"Well, I am very good at it. I've been doing it my whole life.\" He smiled and tickled my ribs, which of course made me squeal and rub against all of his warmness and hardness. And trust me, there was plenty of hardness. Hmm. We would need to make sure we didn't waste that either.\n\n\"In the past I would just be at home alone thinking 'wow, I got laid really well last night',\" he continued. \"But with you, I'm thinking, 'She's so beautiful. I want to wake up with her every morning. And wow, I got laid really well last night'.\"\n\n\"I like sleeping with you too. You're very warm and cuddly.\" I snuggled up closer to him. \"And I've got to tell you again, that was the best sex I've ever had in my life. Let's have lots and lots of sex. In fact, let's have as much sex as possible.\"\n\n\"That works for me. I'm going to need to be hittin' that on a regular basis. I'm not kidding you, Gabrielle, that was the best sex I've ever had too, and frankly, I've had _a whole lot_ of sex.\" He smiled. \"I can't believe that I found someone who I'm so compatible with.\"\n\n\"We are pretty compatible aren't we? And not just in bed either.\"\n\n\"No! On the floor and in the chair and especially on the desk.\" I sat up and gave him a slightly indignant look and he started laughing. He loved teasing me so much. He started tracing a finger along my abdomen and my nerve endings lit up like a cell phone grid of Manhattan. Then he was cupping my breast and making those delicious little circles around my nipple with his thumb again.\n\n\"You may have to carry me downstairs,\" I panted as he started nibbling at my neck.\n\n\"That's okay. It will give Drew great joy to be able to make rude comments,\" he said, climbing over me and leaning down to kiss me slowly and thoroughly. I ran my hands along his back. His body felt so good that I wanted to keep touching him forever. Except that probably wouldn't go over too well in court. He sat back, grabbed my ankles and rested them on his shoulders, leaning over and sliding into me deeply. \"Oh yeah, baby! I remember _this_ place,\" he sighed and groaned. \"I'm not hurting you am I?\" he asked, breathing heavily.\n\n\"No, it's wonderful,\" I gasped. \"I must have a big vagina or something.\"\n\n\"Not big.\" He laughed. \"Just accommodating. You're really tight. Ah, fuck! _Really_ tight. I love it when you do that.\"\n\n\"Lots of walking – good muscle tone.\"\n\nHe adjusted his angle and unbelievably it felt even deeper. \"Tell me if it's too much like this.\"\n\n\"Not too much. Fits fine,\" I bit out. \"You like au natural?\" I moaned.\n\n\"You must be kidding. The other way is great. But compared to this... like taking a shower in socks.\" His breath was coming in short rasps and a sheen of sweat had formed on his skin.\n\n\"I like that I'm the first.\" I lifted my hips up to meet him as he slid in and out of me, and grabbed on to his beautiful tight ass.\n\n\"Me too. And it's very primal. Like claiming your mate. Marking your territory. Male thing you know?\" He had that wonderfully dazed look on his face.\n\n\"Mm, I like being claimed. Oh yeah, that's so deep. It feels so good.\"\n\n\"Can't talk much more. No blood left in brain.\"\n\nFrom that point on I just enjoyed watching him watching our bodies join as he thrust into me slowly and deeply, pulling back so far that he almost pulled out and then pushing back in until I had taken every inch of him. He seemed fascinated, almost hypnotized by it and I loved seeing him experience so much pleasure. It still blew my mind that it was my body bringing it to him. Then finally he reached down between us and started stroking my clit, and all the blood left my brain too.\n\nI felt a deep intense orgasm building and I just relaxed and let it happen. An incredibly powerful sensation washed over me and my inner muscles clamped down in the most deliciously gut-wrenching way. Braden started to move faster and faster, pounding into me in such a good way, and within a couple of minutes I felt him go still and then shudder, his breathing audible and ragged.\n\n\"Oh, Gabrielle!\" He groaned. \"I come so hard with you.\"\n\nWe rested in each other's arms for a while, cuddling and canoodling lazily, and then he suggested we go grab a shower. While in the shower he grabbed me again. While I was able to walk downstairs under my own power, we didn't make it there for another hour. Believe me, there's nothing like starting out your day with a highly motivated, very physically fit guy in his mid-twenties.\n\n* * *\n\nWe got downstairs just before noon and while we had clearly missed breakfast, at least we had a good shot at lunch. Thank God. I was famished. Braden really knew how to work up an appetite. One thing that seemed different this morning, in addition to a very good ache between my legs, was that he seemed to want to be in physical contact with me at all times.\n\nHe was continuously touching, holding, stroking and caressing me. We sat for a while with his parents in the parlor while they relayed the plot of the legal thriller they had seen the night before and quizzed us on how realistic it was. All the while Braden held me close to him and played with my hair. Then we wandered into the family room where Beth and Drew were hanging out and listening to music.\n\n\"Hey big guy,\" Drew said, and something in his voice made Braden's gaze fly to him. I really should have picked up on that, in retrospect.\n\nBeth told us funny stories about their evening out while Braden held my hand, rubbed my leg, massaged my shoulders and so on. Personally, I loved it. He could touch me as much as he wanted. Finally, Drew said something, though, of course.\n\n\"What is it you believe will happen if you actually stop touching Gabrielle for a minute, Braden?\" He was watching Braden's fingers as they stroked the inside of my knee and he almost looked a little flushed.\n\n\"I like touching her. Mind your own business.\"\n\n\"Oh I know that you like touching her, Braden.\" He and Braden shared a look that seemed to convey some kind of silent communication. Inner-Gabrielle decided that willful ignorance was sometimes the best choice. \"From the way you're looking at her, I assume that you'll be ready for a \"nap\" soon,\" he said. Drew loved those little finger air quotes. Beth was looking both amused and highly embarrassed as she got up and told us she was going to check on lunch.\n\n\"I'll need some food first. \"Napping\" requires energy,\" Braden said quietly, making little finger air quotes of his own.\n\n\"You're definitely a big eater. In fact you're a wonder. Some of us managed to get out of bed long enough to eat _breakfast_ ,\" Drew went on undeterred.\n\n\"And some of us were \"otherwise occupied.\"\n\n\"You must be hungry too, Gabrielle. Even if you were _completely full_ last night I'm sure you've worked up an appetite by now,\" Drew said, smiling in a flirty way and giving me a look that suddenly almost erased the four year age difference between him and Braden. Wow, they could have been twins. Hey wait, I knew that look... Inner-Gabrielle decided that denial was also a very convenient tool. The look that Braden was giving his brother seemed to hover between panicked and homicidal.\n\n\"Why don't we have a little chat later, Drew?\" Braden asked with a smile.\n\n\"Love to,\" Drew answered, looking not unlike the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. Just then Claire appeared at the door.\n\n\"Lunch is ready, everyone.\" She smiled. \"Let's go in.\"\n\nWe got up and Braden continued to hold my hand as we walked to the dining room. When we sat down his hand found a comfortable resting place on my thigh. There was more chat about the movie and the club that Beth and Drew had visited, but he and I were distracted by other things, like smiling stupidly at each other. Eventually it was Drew again who broke into our happy little reverie.\n\nYo! Braden, dude! Mom's talking to you! Stop falling in love for a minute and pay attention.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" Braden asked a little tersely.\n\n\"I was just letting you know that you'll need to be ready and downstairs by five. And I wanted to let Gabrielle know that we have a hair stylist and a make-up person coming if she'd like to borrow them.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" I said with a smile. Claire was so nice.\n\n\"Fine. Hey Dad?\" Braden said to Tyler. \"I was wondering if maybe I could talk to you about something later.\" Tyler immediately appeared attentive.\n\n\"Why can't you talk to him now?\" Drew asked.\n\n\"I have some questions I want to ask him.\"\n\n\"Don't you think you should have asked him about that last night?\" Drew smiled.\n\n\"Drew!\" Tyler looked at his younger son menacingly. \"That would be fine, Braden. Why don't we take a walk after lunch?\"\n\n\"Gabrielle!\" Claire said, smiling brightly. \"We should talk more and I would love to show you some baby pictures of Braden.\" Drew looked at his mother curiously and then turned to his sister.\n\n\"Uh oh, you don't think he got her...\" he began quietly to Beth.\n\n\"They've only been dating for a week. Didn't Dad have that talk with _you_?\" Beth cut him off, whispering through clenched teeth with a smile.\n\nWhen lunch ended Braden reluctantly took his hand off of me and followed his father out of the room. Claire led me back to the parlor as Beth and Drew headed off in their own directions.\n\n\"Bye, Gabrielle,\" Drew called out with a smile. He was being very exceptionally friendly this morning. Inner-Gabrielle decided that sometimes it was best not to contemplate things too deeply. I made myself comfortable while she settled in and fixed me with a warm happy maternal gaze.\n\n\"So Gabrielle, Braden is obviously quite smitten with you. We've never seen him act like this before.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I smiled. \"Well, I'm quite smitten with him too,\" I said, a little surprised.\n\n\"Let me get those photos. Braden was such a cute little boy.\" She got up and walked over to a bookshelf, taking down a thick leather-bound album. For the next forty-five minutes I looked at pictures of the most adorable tow-headed, precocious child I had ever seen in my life, taking his first steps, winning little league awards, earning first place in a spelling bee, starring as Ebenezer Scrooge in the church Christmas play, riding his big boy bike, splitting the atom and conquering small nations.\n\nI felt like a chocolate bar sitting in the sun, all sweet and gooey. I was a goner. I was going to have to marry this guy someday because there was no way I was letting him go. Unless, you know, he really wanted to. Go, that is. I wasn't going to get all Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction and start playing the soundtrack to Madame Butterfly a thousand times and boiling people's bunnies, but I digress...\n\nHe and his dad came back in and both of them looked relaxed and happy. I wondered what it was that they had talked about. Braden offered me a tour of the place and I accepted. After seeing adorable little boy Braden I was eager to be touching my big boy Braden again. He seemed to share in that sentiment as he was at my side like a heat-seeking missile.\n\nIt was a beautiful, warm, clear day and outside I could see that a huge tent had been set up on the rear lawn. We exited through the French doors at the rear of the house and descended a flight of stairs that led down to a swimming pool and a Jacuzzi. A small pool house stood off to the side not very far from the tent. We walked down and checked out the progress that workers were making with setting up for the fundraiser. Everything looked lovely. Who knew you could do this with a tent? I wished that I could have brought these people with me when I was a Girl Scout forced to participate in _Survivor: Camp Louisa in the Catskills._\n\nI saw that a stage had been set up. They would be having an auction that evening and a band would be playing later. I thought that it might turn out to be a fun evening. We strolled back out and across the grounds and then circled around to the front of the house again. Braden gave me a tour of that too. It was really a beautiful home. In addition to the parlor, family room and dining room I had seen, there was a huge kitchen and a cozy library on the first floor. The basement held a work-out room and a game room that had a full private bar and opened out onto a patio by the pool. As I had guessed there were six bedrooms upstairs. The whole place was beautifully decorated with classic pieces and obvious good taste but it still managed to create a warm atmosphere that felt like a family home.\n\n\"It's getting late,\" he pointed out. \"How long will it take you to get ready?\"\n\n\"Probably no more than an hour. I wanted to get your opinion about whether I should wear my jewelry though. You said that this was formal but I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard.\"\n\n\"What kind of jewelry did you bring?\" He was giving me a curious look.\n\n\"My good stuff,\" I replied and he looked amused.\n\n\"I'm sure it's fine but I'll give you my opinion if you want it.\"\n\nWe went upstairs to his room. Now, in the daylight, when not distracted by other things, I saw that his walls were covered with framed photos of the Harvard rowing team, along with plenty of awards and even a set of oars. Braden really liked boats. I would have to remember that. I went over to my bag and removed the box to a lovely necklace that my mom and dad had given me.\n\n\"This was my graduation gift from my parents when I finished law school.\" I held it up to show him. I glanced up and saw that he looked a little surprised.\n\n\"Are those diamonds?\"\n\n\"Aren't they pretty?\" I loved seeing the stones sparkle in the light.\n\n\"They're beautiful. You just tossed them in your overnight bag and brought them along?\"\n\n\"Yeah, why?\"\n\n\"Just asking.\" He gave me a look I couldn't interpret. \"Do your parents worry about you a lot?\" he asked out of the blue.\n\n\"Yeah, as a matter of fact they do,\" I admitted. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Just wondering. Why don't we take a trip to New York soon?\"\n\n\"Maybe my parents should come to Philly. I told you that I have some rather eccentric relatives? Like my bubbe for instance. That's my grandmother. She's kind of...blunt.\"\n\n\"She'll get along well with Drew.\"\n\n\"My cousin Rachel, is a bit bitter about her divorce. She's thirty-two and sleeps with guys in their early twenties.\"\n\n\"She'll get along _really_ well with Drew.\"\n\n\"And there's my uncle Ira, the King of Dry Cleaning. And my Aunt Ruth. She's something like Fran Drescher, but with a more nasal voice and heavier New York accent.\"\n\n\"Everybody has embarrassing relatives. You should meet my cousin Derek, the Larry Flint of the Main Line. Actually, on second thought, you shouldn't meet my cousin Derek. Ever.\"\n\n\"Braden, you're going to meet these people and never want to even consider having children with me. I need to wait until you're madly in love with me before I inflict my family upon you.\"\n\n\"Gabrielle, don't worry so much.\" He laughed. \"I don't care if you have eccentric relatives. I'm dating, and potentially breeding with you, not them.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay we'll take a trip to New York soon but don't say I didn't warn you. Going back to my original question though, is the necklace too much?\"\n\n\"No. It'll be fine. It's very beautiful and tasteful. Just like you.\" He smiled, walked over and cupped my face in his hands, leaning down to kiss me gently. I heard a knock at the door and Beth called out.\n\n\"Gabrielle? I'm sorry to bother you but the hairdresser and the cosmetologist are ready for you now.\"\n\n\"Go ahead,\" Braden encouraged me. \"I'll get dressed while you go see them.\"\n\n\"Okay, I'll be right there,\" I called out. I quickly undressed and found my robe. I wrapped it around myself and I went out and followed Beth down the hall to her room. The stylist and the make-up professional worked on me for about half an hour and I had to admit that the results were very nice. My hair was piled on top of my head with loose tendrils flowing down and I had the \"smoky eyes\" that Jessica was always talking about. When I got back to Braden's room he was in his bathroom and I stepped into my evening gown. Occasionally, I did splurge, and I had known from the minute that I had seen this dress that I had to have it. It was a shimmery light beige color with strips of fitted silk charmeuse making up the bodice and a flowing chiffon skirt. It was so soft that it felt almost sensual against my bare skin.\n\n\"Will you zip me, Braden?\" I called out. He walked out of the bathroom and my mouth went dry. He was wearing a tux and he looked drop-dead gorgeous. This man was born to dress in formal wear. His eyes roamed over me from head to toe appreciatively.\n\n\"You look so beautiful.\" He walked over to where I was standing and eased my zipper up slowly. Then as he helped me to fasten the clasp on my necklace there was another knock on the door.\n\n\"Yo Braden! Mom and Dad want to know if you're ready,\" Drew yelled.\n\n\"We're not deaf,\" Braden said swinging the door open.\n\n\"I thought you might be \"otherwise occupied.\" He snickered. Then he caught sight of me. \"Whoa! Gabrielle, you look smokin' hot in that dress, baby.\"\n\n\"Did you just call her baby? Do that again and I'll hurt you. Badly. Now stop ogling her,\" Braden said, pushing Drew back into the hall. \"We'll be down in a minute.\" There was some grumbling as Drew left.\n\n\"He's right though. You do look smokin' hot in that dress, baby and I'm allowed to ogle you,\"\n\nBraden said, smiling and kissing my hand.\n\n# CHAPTER ELEVEN\n\nHe held onto it as we headed downstairs, where the rest of his family was waiting in the family room with a guy named Alan, who was Tyler's press aid. Apparently, there were journalists from Main Line Today, Philadelphia Magazine, Vanity Fair, the Philadelphia Inquirer and a few other smaller papers waiting to ask some questions and snap some photos. I guess that happened when your dad was a Senator and you had a party.\n\nWe went into the parlor where the journalists and photographers were waiting. Braden hovered next to me protectively, keeping his arm around my waist. At first the questions were all about the foundation and the work that it did but then out of left field came a question from the journalist from the Vanity Fair.\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg, aren't you the daughter of Ben Ginsberg, the CEO recently mentioned in the Times?\" I saw the other magazine journalists perk up and pay attention. The newspaper people didn't look as interested. Even other reporters probably found that article a little out there.\n\n\"Yes, he's my father,\" I answered before Alan jumped in.\n\n\"The Senator hasn't had the opportunity to meet Gabrielle's parents yet.\"\n\n\"Does your dad like Senator Pierce's politics?\" the guy from Main Line Today asked.\n\n\"Well actually...\"\n\n\"I don't think that Mr. Ginsberg has made any official endorsement or statement on the matter,\" Alan answered for me in political speak.\n\n\"Off the record then,\" a woman from Philadelphia Magazine chimed in. \"Might this be the joining of a political dynasty and a business empire?\"\n\n\"Empire?\" My dad had an empire? First he was a kingmaker, now he was an actual emperor. Did these people _know_ my dad? He could barely match his socks without my mother's help. Now my grandfather, he was more of an emperor. He was probably up in heaven financing major expansion as we spoke.\n\n\"Now, now,\" Alan laughed. \"Don't you think that's putting a little pressure on the kids?\"\n\n\" _Their_ kids would be among the wealthiest people in the country,\" said the journalist from Vanity Fair. Did my parents have _that_ much money? But they were so... average. Jesus, I really should have taken the money lectures more seriously.\n\n\"Gabrielle, is your father hoping to see you married to the son of a president?\" asked the guy from Main Line Today. Was he kidding? My dad would be happy if I just didn't become a crazy cat lady. This whole conversation was surreal. Alan looked like he was about to stroke out.\n\n\"Okay folks, we've got to wrap this up,\" he said with a smile and a slight twitch. Why did I get the feeling that nobody had mentioned it to Alan that Braden was dating a kingmaker's daughter? They snapped some last minute pictures and I smiled dutifully, wondering if I would become one of Braden's Google Girls now. At least I would add some variety.\n\nWe headed down to the tent. The Pierces would stand in a reception line as guests arrived and I was left to my own devices, to a certain extent at least. Alan was hovering around to make sure that none of the journalists tried to corner me and I recognized the fact that the private security team members were watching me along with the Pierce's. That was nice of them. I guess they figured Braden's dad would be rather annoyed if the only woman his son had shown an interest in actually dating in two years got knocked off at his own party.\n\nI stood off to the side and watched the guests arrive and mingle. They were mostly who I thought of as \"the beautiful people\" although clearly not all of them were actually beautiful. I needn't have worried about wearing my good jewelry or felt self-conscious about the fact that my dress cost as much as some of my clients made in a month. In this crowd I blended. The reception line was just starting to wind down when I heard a familiar voice from the past say my name. I froze. It couldn't be. There was no way. I had to be mistaken. I steeled myself, fixed a smile on my face and turned to face him.\n\n* * *\n\n\"Cam? Wow, how are you?\" I tried to sound cool and collected but my voice came out cracking and unnaturally high. I sounded like a boy going through puberty.\n\n\"Gabrielle. It _is_ you. I thought it was, but you look sort of different.\"\n\n\"Well, it's been a long time. We were in college then. A lot's happened. I graduated and went on to law school. I passed the bar and now I've been practicing law for two years. I'm sure I look a bit different. I am different. Really different — in lots of ways. I mean how could I possibly be the same? Who's the same after eight years? Wow. Can you believe that it's been eight years?\" The words came tumbling out in a continuous stream. I was speaking so quickly I could barely understand myself. He seemed kind of confused but he had obviously latched onto the word \"law.\"\n\n\"I'm an attorney too. At Findlay Clay,\" he said naming one of the most prestigious firms in town. No wonder we had never run into each other. That legal world was as far away from mine as one could get. Suddenly, the name of the firm clicked.\n\n\"Is the Clay...?\"\n\n\"My father... and my grandfather... and my great-grandfather. Where do you work?\"\n\n\"I'm a public defender,\" I said almost defiantly. Inner-Gabrielle was jumping up and down and screaming \"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!\" like some foul-mouthed rhesus monkey.\n\n\"That's so interesting!\" _Huh?_ He actually sounded like he meant it. Yeah, it's interesting. He should meet freaking Tiny.\n\nJust then Braden walked up behind me and put his arm around me possessively. \"I see you've met my cousin Cameron.\" Oh _fuck_! You just had to know _that_ was coming. (By the way, I sometimes swear a lot when I'm stressed.) No wonder he reminded me of him! How could I have not seen the similarities? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I was filled with tension and I noticed that Cam had tensed up too. Great, and I really didn't mean that.\n\n\"I knew Gabrielle back in college.\" Now I felt Braden tense up. This was getting better by the moment. Everybody was tense in the tents. (I also make stupid jokes when I'm stressed. Okay – I do that normally too.) \"We were friends.\" That was all he said, although he looked at me intently. He wasn't going to humiliate me. Thank God for small miracles. \"So the two of are you dating?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" Braden answered. \"Exclusively.\"\n\n\"I see. Well, you're a lucky guy. Gabrielle is incredibly nice, and thoughtful, and sweet, and pure...\" He flinched as soon he realized his mistake. \"Hearted. Pure hearted. And although she didn't realize it, I wasn't good enough to be her... friend.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" Braden said cynically. I needed a drink. Or several. Why couldn't somebody win a fucking trial now?\n\n\"Well, so anyway, as I was pointing out to Cam... eron. It's been _eight years._ \" I said significantly to Braden. \"That's a very long time and much has _changed_.\"\n\n\"Yeah — you're even more beautiful than you were then,\" Cam said with a smile. Mr. Charming. I wanted to beat him senseless.\n\n\"Well, that's because I'm happy. Very happy. I'm finally dating the guy who I've wanted for the past six months.\" I looked up at Braden with an adoring smile.\n\n\"Six months? Really?\" Braden asked. That seemed to mollify him a little.\n\n\"I take it that you haven't been interested in me for as long?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've been picturing you naked since about three seconds after I met you, but I'm a guy and you're hot.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm libidinous and you're hot too.\" He was looking significantly more cheerful now.\n\n\"I'm glad you're happy now, Gabrielle. I want you to be happy. That's all I ever wanted.\" He sure had a funny way of showing it.\n\n\"Well, thank you. I want me to be happy too.\" I smiled.\n\n\"Maybe we could be friends again,\" he suggested.\n\n\"Didn't he suggest being friends once before?\" Braden asked. \"Well at least he can only take your virginity and then blow you off once.\" Well. If there had been any doubt that Braden had figured it out, that pretty much dispelled it.\n\n\"Gabrielle!\" Cameron sounded like he was in actual physical pain.\n\n\"Braden!\" I just sounded pissed.\n\n\"What?\" Suddenly the resemblance between Braden and Drew was uncanny.\n\n\"Gabrielle, I never meant for that to happen. I didn't even know.\" He looked ill.\n\n\"I figured that out, Cam. Look, it was a long time ago and we're all grown up people now.\" I gave Braden a warning glance. \"Let's just forget it and move on.\" I realized at that moment that I did really want to move on. I had been thinking about something that had happened when I was eighteen for long enough.\n\n\" _Can_ we be friends again?\" he asked, sounding very earnest.\n\n\"You want to be friends? Sure. We can be friends and I'm hoping that the two of you will also try to get along.\"\n\n\"Why not? It's not the first time he's slept with my girlfriend.\"\n\n\"Braden!\" I glared at him and then what he had said sunk in. \"Wait, am I your girlfriend?\"\n\n\"Do you want to be my girlfriend?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah.\"\n\n\"Then you're my girlfriend. And I know that you deserve better than me too, but I don't care, because I'm selfish and I want you.\"\n\n\"Okay, since he's my friend and you're my boyfriend I want you to call a truce. That means no more snark, Braden.\"\n\n\"I thought you liked my sharp tongue.\" He gave me a wicked look that made my tummy flutter.\n\n\"You have no idea how much I like your tongue, Braden; there aren't words to describe how much I like it, just primal noises, but I want to try to put all of this shit behind us, so work with me here.\"\n\n\"Fine. Peace, Cameron. And thanks for giving me an excuse to break up with the harpy.\"\n\n\"Peace, Braden. No problem. She's here by the way.\"\n\n\"I don't suppose you'd be willing to distract...\"\n\n\"Are you nuts?! I'm surprised my dick didn't freeze off the first time.\" I saw the two of them exchange amused looks. That was progress. Sort of. \"So is this a bad time to tell you that the reason I thought it was interesting that you're a public defender was that my firm is sending me to the Defender Association to learn how to do pro bono cases for them?\" He looked at me with a smile.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"My firm...\" _Oh Jesus_. That's just what we needed, an associate from a big white shoe firm coming in to organize financial portfolios for drug dealers.\n\n\"Oh you're going to _love_ that, Cameron!\" Braden laughed. \"Just wait until you meet your new clients. Why don't you tell him about Mr. Sanchez, Gabrielle? He was interested in making money.\"\n\n\"I've been bored lately and I thought it would be kind of exciting,\" Cam said naively and Braden laughed harder. This was going to be a bloodbath.\n\n\"Okay, Cameron. If you manage to make it through this I'll consider that you've done penance and I'll never mention the harpy to you again.\" Braden smiled.\n\n\"It's a deal!\" Cam looked genuinely happy. He had been waiting a long time to be forgiven.\n\n\"If you want you can shadow my friend Jess and me,\" I offered. What the hell. Maybe it would help us all get past the awkwardness. \"We're usually in the same courtroom with Braden and his friend Adam.\"\n\n\"Really? Well, maybe they'll let me.\" He seemed really happy. He'd been waiting a long time for me to forgive him too. \"Looking forward to it! I'm going to go say hi to Aunt Claire and Uncle Tyler.\"\n\nWe said goodbye and when he had left Braden turned to me.\n\n\"I had a feeling it might possibly be Cameron you were with. People have always said we look and sound alike. He's the right age and he went to Yale and to law school.\"\n\n\"I honestly didn't know, Braden. It was so long ago and he was younger. I swear that my being attracted to you has absolutely nothing to do with him. He was cute and I was eighteen. You get me big-girl excited.\" I reached up and ran my finger along his jawline.\n\n\"Oh really?\" He smiled.\n\n\"Really,\" I said suggestively.\n\n\"Well, maybe we can...\"\n\n# CHAPTER TWELVE\n\nHe never got to finish that sentence because a platinum blonde in a Valentino dress that probably cost enough to support a village in the Third World for a year, came charging up, and standing directly in front of me as if I weren't there, proceeded to try to start a conversation with Braden. If you could call it that.\n\n\"Braden! There you are. I've been looking all over for you.\"\n\n\"Why? I have nothing to say to you. I had nothing to say to you when I was dating you.\"\n\n\"Oh for Christ's sake! Get over it already. I'm getting tired of your dramatics.\"\n\n\"What the fuck are you talking about?\" he demanded. I had backed up by this point and circled around to Braden's side. Obviously this was Braden's ex, the lovely Marla.\n\n\"Cut the bullshit. If you want to start thinking about running for office you're going to need the right wife and lucky for you, I'm still available.\"\n\n\"You're out of your mind! I would never marry _you_. I don't even like you.\"\n\n\"My family has money and influence. We don't have to like each other. We don't even have to fuck each other although you had no problem fucking me before.\"\n\n\"I was nineteen! I had no problem fucking anybody!\"\n\n\"Yeah, okay, whatever. If you're not careful you're going to lose me.\"\n\n\"Lose you? I can't get rid of you! You can't seem to get it through that empty, deluded, narcissistic head of yours that I have no interest in you. And why would you think I was interested in politics either?\"\n\n\"Why else would you want to work for the DA? It's not like they pay anything.\"\n\n\"I have a trust fund. I could work for free if I wanted. How did you even get on the guest list?\"\n\n\"By agreeing to donate a grand to your family's fucking foundation.\"\n\n\"Well Marla, thanks for the donation but I have a real girlfriend now, who I actually like.\"\n\nI must confess that up until then I had been feeling mighty awkward just standing there listening to this conversation while both of them completely ignored me. As soon as Braden made that little revelation, though, Marla seemed to notice me for the first time.\n\n\"Her?\" she asked disdainfully, looking me up and down. \"This mousy girl in the fake jewelry and the Carolina Herrera knock-off?\"\n\n\"Hey! This is a Carlos Miele original and this is a diamond necklace from Harry Winston. You're one to talk about fake with your bleach blonde hair, your spray tan and your plastic tits, lady.\"\n\n\"Did you hear that, Braden?!\" Marla screeched.\n\n\"Yes, I did,\" he answered with obvious amusement. \"You tell her, baby.\" He leaned down and kissed me. \"Now Marla, I think it's best that you left. You've wasted more than a thousand dollars' worth of my time and patience.\" He signaled one of the security team and explained that Marla had overstayed her welcome. We walked off as she was being hustled toward the drive complaining loudly and threatening to sue.\n\n\"She's a real sweetie.\" I smiled.\n\n\"Yeah, she's a charmer. I must have been insane. Oh shit,\" he said looking up and trying a bit too late, apparently, to steer us in the other direction. I followed his gaze and saw a man who appeared to be somewhere in his late thirties or possibly early forties. He had \"pretty boy\" looks and blindingly white teeth with an expression that reminded me somehow of the Big Bad Wolf. (The better to eat you with, my dear!) Not far behind him was a woman who looked like she might be in her mid-forties. She might have been considered quite attractive if she just didn't look so... mean. She had black hair streaked with iron gray and a cruel expression on her thin lips. She looked like someone who would have blended in well at a witch burning. They were closing in on us rapidly. Bringing up the rear were a painfully skinny and anemic-looking older man who might have been forty... or fifty... or sixty, and a sullen young woman with jet black hair and lily white skin. She was dressed all in black, including her lipstick. Those two looked like they would have preferred to have headed in the other direction, or anywhere else for that matter, other than after the first two.\n\n\"Braden! How the hell are ya?!\" said the guy with the teeth, grabbing Braden's hand and pumping it up and down almost frantically. He looked like a demented Ken doll.\n\n\"You're looking quite dashing tonight, Braden,\" said the cold-looking woman in an even colder voice. \"Isn't he, Felicity?\" she asked the sullen young woman. I had never seen a more inappropriately named person in my life. She would have made Wednesday Addams look like Doris Day.\n\n\"Yes, mother,\" Felicity answered without even glancing in Braden's direction. The skinny older man said nothing. I almost didn't see him standing there for a moment. He blended in so well with the white tent wall.\n\n\"And you must be the fabulous Gabrielle Ginsberg,\" Mr. Teeth, who I suspected was Cole Stephenson, the lecherous politician, went on, while speaking directly to my boobs. _Fabulous?_\n\n\"Gabrielle,\" Braden said, pulling me closer to him, \"these are the Masons and this is...\"\n\n\"Cole Stephenson at your service,\" Mr. Teeth said, nodding like a bobble-head doll and giving me a cheesy smile and the two-handed finger point that announced he was a wild and crazy guy. \"And _this_ is the kingmaker's daughter.\" He grinned like he had just said something witty.\n\nMrs. Mason, in contrast, was looking at me like she wanted to kick me. Or damn me to Hell. Felicity was looking at me too, but I couldn't really interpret her expression. At least it didn't seem to involve wrath. Actually, she might have been admiring my necklace. I suspected that the blank expression on her face was as close as she came to expressing approval, or joy, or happiness, or anything. Mr. Mason said nothing and did nothing. I got the feeling he said and did nothing a lot. Maybe he really was a hologram.\n\n\"Ginsberg?\" Mrs. Mason said in a way that made it sound like she was saying, 'root rot,' or 'genital warts'. \"I don't believe I'm familiar with that name.\"\n\n\"Well, there was a famous poet, Allen Ginsberg, and there's a Supreme Court Justice, Ruth Bader Ginsburg. No relation.\"\n\n\"Gabrielle's father is a real mover and shaker in the Big Apple,\" Cole put in and winked at me. I cringed. He reminded me of a used car salesman — who moonlighted as a pornographer. \"We're lucky to have someone with her obvious sophistication joining our little circle of country bumpkins.\" His gaze was traveling up and down my body like he was a starving dog eyeing up a side of beef. Even though he was creeping me out, I almost laughed out loud when he called me sophisticated and the Pierces bumpkins.\n\n\"New York, hmm.\" Apparently Mrs. Mason didn't approve of New Yorkers. \"I'm sure she's very sophisticated.\" I was pretty sure that she had just called me a tramp. I didn't want to contemplate what else she might be thinking, as it would probably have been offensive on so many different levels.\n\nI saw Beth gesturing to us in the background and I nudged Braden and let him know.\n\n\"Oh sorry to run!\" he said, not looking sorry at all. \"But my sister needs us.\" He pulled me off quickly and we headed for the stage. When we got there Beth let Braden know that she was going to need some extra help for the upcoming auction. He hesitated.\n\n\"I don't know if I want to leave you alone with these people,\" he said to me.\n\n\"I don't blame you, Braden,\" Beth said, glancing at Cole and cringing herself. I think Cole made a lot of people cringe. \"Gabrielle, you could help me out by bringing these lists up to the house and putting them on the desk in the library. If you don't mind, that is. It's just busy work, but it would get you out of here, and it really would be doing me a favor. They have important information on them and I don't want them to get lost.\"\n\n\"Sure, no problem.\" I took the papers from her and set out for the house. When I got there I found it bustling with various catering, decorating and entertainment people. I dropped the papers off and headed back toward the tent.\n\nHalfway there I was cornered by Cole Stephenson. \"So, Gabrielle, this thing with Braden's not serious is it? I mean he's a bit of a ladies' man you know?\" I couldn't believe this guy's nerve.\n\n\"Well now he's one lady's man,\" I said as I tried to walk around him.\n\n\"Well, if it doesn't work out, I'd like a shot at you.\" A shot at me? \"You know, there are some people who think I might make it to the White House someday; so you could say I'm looking for my First Lady.\" He gave me a toothy grin. Or perhaps I should say he gave my boobs a toothy grin. I felt like I needed to bathe.\n\n\"As enticing as that sounds, I'm afraid I'm not interested.\" Once again I tried to do an end run around him but he was quick with evasive maneuvers. We looked like we were doing some kind of strange dance.\n\n\"Hey there, I hope I didn't offend you! I just meant that you're one little girl who shouldn't go to waste. With your connections and money,\" he glanced at my necklace, \"and my political savvy, the sky's the limit, babe.\"\n\n\"I'm very happy with Braden.\"\n\n\"For now, but he doesn't always appreciate beautiful women like I do. I would treat you like a princess. Just keep it in mind.\" I wouldn't be able to forget it if I tried. I would probably have nightmares about it. Then out of nowhere a very unlikely cavalry arrived.\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg. I wonder if you can help me. I have a legal question,\" Felicity Mason said. Great. I hated giving out free legal advice at parties, but at that moment, I would have drafted her will in crayon on a cocktail napkin to get away from Cole.\n\n\"Sure! Call me Gabrielle. Let's walk and talk.\" We escaped from the Big Bad Wolf. When we were several feet away I asked her what I could help her with.\n\n\"Nothing. I just wanted to help you get away from him. He's an asshole.\"\n\n\"Ah, so it's not just me who thinks so.\"\n\n\"No. Everybody thinks so, but only some people say so. He's got his uses for some.\"\n\n\"I see.\" I didn't really, but I didn't know what else to say.\n\n\"You should watch out for him, and he's not the only one. Marla's not as stupid as she seems and my...\"\n\n\"Gabrielle, over here!\" I heard Braden call out as we approached the tent. I thanked Felicity for her help and I walked up to Braden and tucked myself up close to him.\n\n\"I ran into Cole.\"\n\n\"What did he want?\"\n\n\"He wanted to tell me that you're a ladies' man and so if it doesn't work out he wanted a shot at me because he might be in the market for a future First Lady.\"\n\n\"I'll kill him.\"\n\n\"He's not worth it. He's a complete fool, Braden. It's kind of scary that people elected him.\"\n\n\"I think that there are about ten people who live in his district, and nine of them are related to him.\"\n\n\"That would explain it, although I wouldn't be surprised to hear that it was a close race.\"\n\nI had a few more close encounters of the annoying kind with Mrs. Mason as the night wore on. I kept feeling like someone was watching me, someone other than the security people. On more than one occasion I caught her sneering at me like I had just popped out of a cake with tassels on my tits. Seriously! What had I ever done to this woman?\n\n# CHAPTER THIRTEEN\n\nDinner was a big hit and the auction went even better than expected, raising plenty of money for the foundation. I had even dug into my trust fund a little and purchased a weekend getaway to the Finger Lakes in July that included a stay at a Bed and Breakfast and tickets to the wine festival.\n\n\"So, want to share a bed and some wine with me in the Finger Lakes?\" I asked Braden.\n\n\"Absolutely. Right now, though, I'd like to take a trip with you to the pool house. I was thinking that maybe you might like to have a little rendezvous with me there and we could see if I could get you big-girl excited.\"\n\n\"In the pool house?\" I giggled like a schoolgirl.\n\n\"There's a massage table there that I'd like to introduce you to.\" He smiled a very sexy smile and my tummy completely flipped over.\n\n\"But there are people wandering around all over the place and it's so close to here.\"\n\n\"So, we'll have to be quiet and quick. I won't go Vinnie Virillo on you though. I promise.\"\n\n\"Okay!\" I smiled in anticipation and he took my hand as we slipped out the side of the tent. It was a bit after eight o'clock and just starting to get a little darker but we could still see very clearly. We passed people coming and going and I heard laughter and conversation from various directions.\n\nWhen we got to the pool house Braden gave a surreptitious look around and quickly found the key and unlocked the door. It was kind of dark inside but there was enough light coming through the windows so that I could see well when my eyes adjusted. I followed him into a small room occupied by a massage table and shelves stacked with towels and various bottles of scented oils and creams.\n\nHe pulled me into his arms and started kissing me eagerly, doing all of those wonderful things he did with his tongue. I'm telling you, that tongue could win awards. I moaned quietly as his hands ran all over my body. Those hands were pretty talented too. He broke the kiss and whispered in my ear.\n\n\"Take your panties off.\"\n\n\"I'm not wearing any. I like the way this dress feels against my bare skin.\" At first he looked a little stunned. Then I saw his gaze heat up and a cocky grin formed on his beautiful lips.\n\n\"Bend over and grab the edge of the table,\" he ordered in a low thick voice. I did what he asked and he pushed my skirt up around my waist, pulled my hips back a little and then smacked me hard on the ass. Ooh! I felt his fingers glide across my entrance and then backtrack to start massaging the back door if you know what I mean.\n\n\"Braden?\" I asked a little nervously.\n\n\"Don't worry. Not tonight. Just testing the waters,\" he said, sounding amused. His fingers slid forward again. \"You're so wet,\" he said, stroking me broadly up and down. He traced a path up to my now throbbing clit. \"And swollen.\" Then two fingers slid up inside me. \"And ready. That's my baby.\" I heard him unzip and felt him position himself behind me and then he grabbed my hips and thrust into me deeply as I gasped and arched my back. One hand slid inside the bodice of my dress and cupped my breast, pinching my nipple kind of hard. He was being a little rougher but I didn't mind. The other returned to stroke my clit relentlessly, never taking away the pressure. Then he began his hip roll and I entered a state of complete sexual euphoria. The feeling was so good and so intense I almost couldn't stand it. Or stand for that matter. My legs were starting to shake and I hoped that they didn't give out. He kissed my neck and bit my earlobe as I whimpered and tried to swallow my moans. After several minutes of blowing my mind he started talking.\n\n\"You feel so good, baby,\" he whispered in my ear and I immediately felt myself start climbing. \"So hot and so wet.\" My muscles tensed up. \"Oh, that's right, baby. So tight. I love it when you grab my cock like that,\" he ground out and I was right on the edge. \"Gabrielle, this is the sweetest pussy I've ever had.\" Okay, that was it! Folks, we had a winner! I cried out (I couldn't help it!) and my muscles clenched hard, pulsing rhythmically as my body trembled. He stayed with me until I rode out the final waves and then his hands returned to my hips and he grabbed on and slammed into me hard and fast until I felt him freeze and hold me tight against him. He let out a low groan and a ragged breath. \"Oh Fuck!\"\n\nHot damn! That was some good sexing! We stood still for a few minutes just catching our breath and then he turned me around and kissed me deeply and tenderly.\n\n\"There's a bathroom over there if you need it,\" he said quietly as he zipped up. I looked up and immediately became alert. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"I thought I saw something by the window but it was probably nothing.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Pretty sure. If someone were there people would notice and wonder why he was peeping in the window of the pool house, right?\"\n\n\"You're probably right. We had better get back though.\"\n\n\"Thank you for the rendezvous.\" I smiled. \"It was fun.\"\n\n\"Believe me, Gabrielle. You don't have to thank me.\"\n\nI popped into the bathroom and tidied up. When I came back out he had an almost proud look on his face.\n\n\"Feeling kind of possessive huh?\"\n\n\"I guess it's a male thing.\"\n\n\"Consider my girl parts to be officially your territory.\"\n\nWhen we went back to the tent the band had taken the stage and people were dancing to old songs. I saw Beth, Drew and, Cameron, sitting off to the side. Beth waved us over and we went and sat down with them. Drew was looking smug; Beth was looking happy and Cam was looking... well, drunk, to be perfectly honest.\n\n\"Mom's calling me over, I'll be right back,\" Beth said, getting up and rushing off.\n\n\"So, Gabrielle, what do you think of the pool house?\" Drew asked with a knowing smile. Braden and I both looked at him with surprise.\n\n\"What, are you stalking us?\" he asked. \"You need to get some more hobbies.\"\n\n\"And you two need to learn how to sneak off better. You guys just casually strolled off with half the party watching. Here's a hint big brother, nobody thought you were planning to go swimming.\"\n\n\"Were you selling tickets for a place at the window?\"\n\n\"No, but I should have thought of that!\" Drew laughed.\n\n\"I thought I really did see somebody by one of the windows,\" Cam slurred. \"But I've been seeing a lot of weird shit since I had that last rum punch.\"\n\n\"Are you okay, Cam?\" I asked with a bit of concern. Cameron was looking a little green.\n\n\"Me? Oh, yes.\" He sat up straighter. \"I've just been having a few... dozen cocktails.\"\n\n\"All of the mothers with unmarried socialite daughters have been stalking him.\" Drew grinned. \"Mrs. Mason has even decided that Cam might be a good alternative to Braden for Felicity's hand in marriage.\"\n\n\"Lucky you,\" Braden teased.\n\n\"I talked to her before and she actually seems like a pretty nice person,\" I said. \"If you had those parents you would probably dress in black and look sullen too.\"\n\n\"You're so nice, Gabrielle,\" Cam rambled with a slightly glassy look in his eyes. \"You were always so nice to everybody. You knew all the homeless people's names.\"\n\n\"So, you guys planning to hook up anywhere else tonight?\" Drew asked. \"I think there's some space on the dance floor.\" Braden glared at him.\n\n\"Hey! If you were dating her you'd be hittin' that shit every chance you had too and you know it. Gabrielle is very hot and she's got an amazing...\" Cameron said somewhat incoherently to Drew. Okay, time to get out of there!\n\n\"May I have this dance?\" I interrupted quickly, turning to Braden. He smiled and stood up to escort me to the floor. Even though he had been feeling the need to claim his mate and mark his territory in the pool house he was being very sweet and gentle now. We laughed a little and smiled stupidly at each other a whole lot, dancing to _Blue Moon_ and _Dream a Little Dream of Me_. Who knew that romance could be so great? Well, pretty much everybody but me until now I guess. Claire and Tyler looked completely in love, staring into one another's eyes.\n\nThe evening had been a great success. (Luckily, Cam had ridden with relatives and so he wasn't driving.) When things finally wound down we headed back up to the house. Braden's family and I all had some tea in the kitchen and we traded stories about the evening for a while. Despite a rocky start, it had turned out to be one of the best Saturday nights I had spent in a very long time. Okay, it was one of the best ever, although there had been that trip to Disneyworld when I was six. It was nearly 3a.m. when we all finally headed up to bed and now that the adrenaline was gone I was starting to feel very tired. We wished everyone goodnight and went into Braden's room.\n\n\"Now that I can finally get you out of that dress, I think I may be too tired to do anything about it,\" he said, walking over to me and helping me with my zipper and my necklace.\n\n\"We already had a rendezvous, Iron Man. I'm tired too. How about if we just cuddle and see how we feel in the morning?\"\n\n\"Sounds good.\" We both set about getting undressed and ready for bed. It took me a while to wash off the make-up and brush out my hair and when I left the bathroom I saw that Braden was sitting in bed reading and waiting for me. I just stood there and stared for a minute.\n\n\"What?\" he asked, looking up with a smile.\n\n\"I was just thinking what a nice sight it is to see you reading in bed.\"\n\n\"It's a nice sight to see you doing anything in bed.\" He pulled back the covers invitingly and I came over and snuggled in. He put down his book and turned out the light, pulling me into his arms.\n\n\"I told your mom that I was quite smitten with you.\"\n\n\"Well, I told my dad I was quite smitten with you. That's what I was talking to him about after lunch.\"\n\n\"I wondered what you were talking about.\"\n\n\"I just had some relationship questions. I trust his judgment. My parents are very happy together.\"\n\n\"My parents are too and they still flirt with each other even after all the years of marriage.\"\n\n\"I'd really like to meet them.\"\n\n\"How about next weekend?\"\n\n\"You're on.\" I could tell even without being able to see him that he was smiling.\n\n# CHAPTER FOURTEEN\n\nEveryone was late getting downstairs the next morning and we all met for brunch in the dining room. Afterward, we packed up our stuff and got ready to go. Even though we were only a half an hour away, everyone was hugging and promising to call and visit and e-mail. Beth and Claire made me promise to have lunch and go shopping with them too. I could see how happy that made Braden. In the car ride on the way home he had a contented smile on his face.\n\n\"Are you and Jessica just going to hang out tonight?\"\n\n\"Yeah, she'll be curious to hear about the weekend.\" And personally, I wanted to gush about Braden and his family and talk to her about moronic Marla, creepy Cole and mean Mrs. Mason. As far as Cam went, I figured I would just mention the coincidence that an old college friend of mine was Braden's cousin, and mention that he might be shadowing us sometime in the future.\n\n\"I'm going to do the usual Sunday night hang out thing with Mark and Adam.\"\n\nI wondered if he talked to Adam and Mark the way that I talked to Jess. Probably not. There would probably be a few suggestive jokes and then they would eat pizza, drink beer and watch sports. That seemed to be their pattern. Braden brought me back to my apartment and helped me with my bags, giving me a warm kiss goodbye and telling me he would call me later to say goodnight. As I walked in the front door Jess came hurtling at me like a human cannonball.\n\n\"Was it good?\" she demanded in between bites of the Haagen-Dazs she was holding.\n\n\"The weekend? Yeah, it was fun,\" I answered with a smile. She gave me a \"don't fuck around with me\" look.\n\n\"And how was the sex?\"\n\n\"That was amazing.\" She followed me into my room and sat on my bed while I unpacked. She listened avidly while I gave her the basic run down as she made appreciative noises and comments. She actually blushed a little when I told her about the pool house. I don't think she realized that Braden could be such a naughty boy. I also told her all about the rest of the weekend, from Drew's funny comments to Cole's obnoxious ones. We spent the better part of the evening giggling and laughing and between the two of us we polished off all of the Rocky Road.\n\nMonday came and went without much fanfare. I visited clients at the jail and caught up on paperwork. Braden made a goodnight call and I was already looking forward to seeing him again. Tuesday morning Jess and I arrived at work as usual, coffee in hand, and we were just sitting down at our desks to start preparing cases for court the next day when Chief Deputy Public Defender, Chuck Collins stopped by our office with Cam in tow. His request had been granted. He would be shadowing Jess and I and sharing our office space for the next few weeks. Jess seemed perfectly happy with that and I suspected that the fact that Cam was a really cute and sexy guy made this assignment a little less burdensome.\n\nBefore long Cam and Jess were laughing together, which I took as a good sign. I had been so engrossed in my work I hadn't even heard what they were talking about.\n\n\"Any interesting cases tomorrow?\" I asked, wondering what was so funny.\n\n\"Nothing spectacular. How about on your list?\"\n\n\"I've got a pretty good one. A guilty plea — Mr. Maximillian Davis. I'm not going to spoil it for you though.\" I smiled. The hours went by quickly and we made plans to go out to lunch with Braden, who stopped by at noon. The four of us headed for Reading Terminal Market, chatting on the way.\n\n\"So Cameron, give investment advice to any felons yet?\" Braden asked with a smirk.\n\n\"Not yet but I've got definite ideas for expanding their portfolios.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm sure it will be an interesting experience for you. I hope you'll get to be there when we do Mr. Davis' guilty plea tomorrow.\"\n\n\"We get all the good ones, don't we?\"\n\n\"Uh, hello? I get my share of good ones too,\" Jess chimed in.\n\n\"I hope that you two will let Cameron share in the fun.\" Braden smiled.\n\n\"Can't wait,\" Cam replied, grinning the grin of the blissfully unaware.\n\nWhen we arrived, we browsed the various stalls for something good to eat and when we had all picked up our lunches we found a place to sit and dug in.\n\n\"So you and Gabrielle were friends in college?\" Jess asked Cam.\n\n\"Yeah, we were in the same lit class and she obviously got it. I obviously didn't, so I asked her to help me study.\"\n\n\"And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was hot,\" Braden said dryly.\n\n\"Braden!\" I rolled my eyes.\n\n\"It had something to do with the fact that she was hot,\" he said with a laugh and I almost choked on my curry. \"But it had more to do with the fact that she was so smart.\"\n\n\"So you thought she was hot and smart?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"And funny and very nice,\" Cam added, glancing at me and smiling but nevertheless looking a little uncomfortable. He turned his focus to his Pad Thai.\n\n\"So how come you never asked her out?\" Jess asked. Oh my God! I was going to kill her.\n\nCam hesitated. \"Well, I was kind of a serial dater, and besides, when we first met she was dating somebody. Jonathan Parker, right?\" he asked me. \"It's weird but for some reason, I always thought he was gay.\"\n\n\"He, uh, well,\" I coughed. \"He was. That is, he discovered that he was. Gay, I mean,\" I said and Cam almost spit out the Coke he was drinking.\n\n\"Discovered that he was gay? He didn't know that already?\"\n\n\"People don't always realize that right away. Do they?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, but I think that most people realize it on some level, although maybe they haven't come to terms with it,\" he answered tactfully.\n\n\"How long did you date a gay man?\" Jess cut in.\n\n\"Just a couple of months.\"\n\n\"And it never occurred to you?\" she asked incredulously.\n\n\"Well, I'll admit that I thought it was odd that he was so shy, you know, about physical contact. I didn't really bring it up though because I didn't want to pressure him.\"\n\n\"So you never had any physical side to your relationship?\"\n\n\"We were affectionate. We held hands and hugged. He put his arm around me and we gave each other little cheek kisses. At the time I had hardly any sexual experience at all so I was pretty naïve.\" I saw Cam look away uncomfortably. Braden wasn't looking terribly comfortable either.\n\n\"And what did you do on your dates?\" she wanted to know.\n\n\"Hung out and watched movies, went out dancing. Stuff like that.\"\n\n\"Honey, are you sure you were dating? I mean it sounds to me like you were his hag,\" Jess said sounding bewildered. I saw Cam and Braden glance at each other and struggle valiantly not to laugh. They were barely holding on there. At least they were kind of bonding.\n\n\"I think we were dating. I have to admit that I wasn't really surprised when he told me he was gay, but I assumed it was something he had just figured out. I didn't want to push him to discuss it, in case he wasn't ready.\" Suddenly it sunk in. \"Oh my God. I had an imaginary boyfriend.\"\n\nThat one was just too much. They lost it. Those two bastards totally cracked up! Cam turned his head and Braden covered his face with his hands but they couldn't hide the way their shoulders silently shook. Finally, they pulled it together.\n\n\"Just for the record, _we're_ really dating,\" Braden said, catching his breath, which almost started Cam off on another laughing fit.\n\n\"I'm glad that you two find this so amusing.\" I calmly went on eating my lunch. I was actually thankful for their little laughing fit because it had allowed Cam to avoid answering Jess's question. I really didn't want to discuss it at the moment.\n\nWe finished up our lunch and Braden kissed me goodbye and whispered in my ear that we would have a private lunch soon. Then he returned to his office and we returned to ours. We worked on through the afternoon and finally at the end of the day, we said goodbye to Cam, and Jess and I headed home. When we got there I stopped at our box to pick up the mail and we went upstairs.\n\n# CHAPTER FIFTEEN\n\nWe walked in and I was going to toss the mail on the entry table, but something caught my eye; peeking out of the pile was an envelope that was addressed to me in sloppy handwriting that I didn't recognize. There was no return address. What the hell? I stood there and stared, starting to feel a little apprehensive for some reason.\n\n\"Jess,\" I called.\n\n\"What's the matter?\" she asked, coming over to me.\n\n\"It's nothing big. Just that there's a letter addressed to me and it doesn't have a return address. I don't recognize the writing.\"\n\nI ripped it open carefully and removed a note from inside. Jess leaned over to read it along with me. There was a single sheet of plain white paper on which someone had written a short message in the same sloppy script. It said, \" ** _You should not be with him. End it now before you get hurt.\"_**\n\n\"Who do you think wrote this?\" she asked, sounding shocked.\n\n\"Well, Marla seems like she may not have both oars in the water and she's certainly nasty enough. She's also fixated on getting Braden back.\"\n\n\"Okay, there's a good possibility,\" Jess agreed.\n\n\"Cole was creepy and he was definitely hitting on me. He kept saying that if it didn't work with Braden I should consider dating him. This letter is so ambiguous. It's hard to tell if the writer is warning me off for my own good or threatening me.\"\n\n\"That's a good point. He could be trying to get you away from Braden. I'd say that's another good suspect.\"\n\n\"Then there's Mrs. Mason, who was giving me dirty looks all evening. She wants Braden for her daughter but I could also tell she just didn't like me in general. I think she saw me as this interloper in her elite little Main Line WASP community.\"\n\n\"She did sound pretty evil. It might not be anybody who was at the fundraiser though. There are a lot of strange people out there. Remember that article in the Times you told me about — the one that sounded like a conspiracy theory? What if it's someone who buys into that stuff?\"\n\n\"The gossipy magazines that covered the fundraiser in detail haven't come out yet and I don't think that the coverage in the papers was very specific. That was really all about the Foundation. So it's not really public knowledge that we're even dating. It's just a hunch, but I feel like it was one of those three.\"\n\n\"Maybe you should report it to the police.\"\n\n\"Not yet. I can't mention that I suspect anybody.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I can't go around accusing a state representative of doing something like this without any proof, and I think that the Masons are big financial supporters of the Pierce family foundation. I don't want to risk alienating them based on some dirty looks. As for Marla, her family is wealthy and well-connected and I don't want anyone to get sued. \"\n\n\"Fine, but you should still tell the police. Maybe you should tell your dad, too.\"\n\n\"It would just worry him and he would want to buy us a Pit Bull or hire me a bodyguard or something. My parents worry about me enough. Actually, I have something else in mind, but I would need your help.\"\n\n\"Uh oh. I don't like the sound of this already.\"\n\n\"Remember I had that forgery trial, the one where I had to hire a handwriting expert?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Well, I still have his contact information. I think that I should hire him to compare the handwriting in this note to samples that I get from all three of the people I mentioned.\"\n\n\"And just how are you going to get them to give you handwriting samples, Nancy Drew?\"\n\n\"I'm going to follow them until an opportunity presents itself, but I need your help because they've all seen me but they don't know you.\"\n\n\"We can't just follow people around indefinitely. Do these people even live around here?\"\n\n\"I think that they all live near the Pierces but I'll verify it,\" I said, going over to my laptop. I did a quick search and discovered that Cole's district was just outside the city and that he had a place there and in Harrisburg, the state capital. Marla had a townhouse in the city and the Masons lived within a few miles of Braden's parents.\n\n\"Marla's right here in the city. It would be easiest to start with her and the most likely time for her to go out would be on a Friday or Saturday night.\"\n\n\"So what are you going to tell Braden? I can't take you to meet my parents because I want to follow your ex-girlfriend around?\"\n\n\"No. We're going to need extra help.\"\n\n\"You _are_ going to tell Braden about the letter though, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Not yet. He's just like my dad. He'll get all worried and uber protective. He might get himself in trouble by going after one or even all three of the people who I suspect. He might even suspect Cam of being jealous or something and I don't think it was him.\" Suddenly it dawned on me. \"That's it! Cameron can help us.\"\n\n\"But Marla knows him too. Maybe we should ask Mark.\"\n\n\"Mark would tell Braden. He'll be with you, who Marla doesn't know, and she won't be expecting to see him. Even if he did run into her though, big deal. He could just say he was on a date.\"\n\n\"What makes you think he'll agree to spend his weekends following Marla?\"\n\n\"I think that he's bored. That's why criminal law sounds exciting to him. Did you get his number?\" I asked.\n\n\"I did,\" she said a little sheepishly. \"Just in case something happened, you know?\"\n\n\"What, like the courtroom burned down or something?\" I teased.\n\n\"Something like that.\" She fished her phone out of her purse.\n\n\"Call him and ask him if it's too late to invite him to dinner with us. You can tell him we need to talk to him.\"\n\nWhen she hung up she said that although he sounded surprised, he would be happy to join us. He had a place in Society Hill, another Center City neighborhood which was very near here. I was surprised I hadn't run into him somewhere sooner. We ordered from a local Chinese place and I ran out to pick it up. By the time I got back Cam had arrived and he and Jess were laughing and talking animatedly. I set the table and we sat down to eat.\n\n\"So, Jessica says that there's something you want to talk to me about?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I got this letter today,\" I said, showing it to him.\n\n\"Who would send something like this?\"\n\n\"I have a hunch that it was either Marla, Cole, or possibly Mrs. Mason.\"\n\n\"Well, any of them would be capable of it, but couldn't it be anybody?\" I explained my reasoning to him and he saw my point. Next I outlined my plan.\n\n\"So you would want Jessica and me just to follow her?\"\n\n\"I was thinking that maybe you could at least find out what places she tends to go to. Then maybe we could come up with a plan for getting the sample. This would be just sort of an information gathering phase. What do you think?\"\n\n\"I think it sounds kind of interesting — sort of James Bond.\" He laughed. \"You're going to tell Braden though, right?\"\n\n\"Not right away. I'm afraid he'll get worried and upset and have one or more of them investigated and that could have all kinds of ramifications. I'm not telling my dad either or we'll have more alarms in this place than Fort Knox before you know it.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I feel good about doing anything behind Braden's back,\" Cam said significantly.\n\n\"I promise I'll tell him. I'm just hoping to have a little something to go on first. I really don't want to worry him and I honestly don't feel like I'm in any danger. Public defenders and prosecutors get harassing letters sometimes. I think this is just like that.\"\n\n\"Well, I guess it's not like I'm sneaking around with you. More like I'm sneaking around with your roommate.\" He smiled. \"Okay team, I'm in!\"\n\n\"Great! Okay, I have the address of Marla's townhouse. I say that this Friday you two just see if you can figure out what kinds of places she goes to. Maybe it will give us an idea.\"\n\n\"You're going to see your parents?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"Yeah, Braden and I will leave for New York by train on Friday after work, so you guys will be on your own, but call me anytime. If I don't answer right away I'll call you back as soon as I can.\"\n\nWe finished dinner and Cam hung out for a while longer before heading back to his place. When he was gone Jess turned to me and I had a feeling I was about to be cross-examined.\n\n\"Okay, what's the deal?\"\n\n\"What's the deal with what?\"\n\n\"The whole story with you and Cameron and Braden. I get the feeling there's more there than you've shared so far.\" Jess was very observant. It was hard to get anything past her.\n\n\"Let's go get comfortable,\" I said, heading for the living room and sinking into my favorite armchair. \"Cam and I were friends in college and I had a big crush on him. We wound up hooking up one night and I wanted it to be more but he didn't.\"\n\n\"Oh wow. You're kidding.\" I could that she genuinely sympathized.\n\n\"And he and Braden had some tension because back when Braden was dating Marla, Cam hooked up with her too.\"\n\n\"Oh my God! He sounds like he was a total ass!\"\n\n\"It's weird but I don't think he was. I know it sounds naïve, but I honestly think he's basically a nice guy and that there were reasons for all of his screw-ups. I think that he felt really bad about them for a long time.\"\n\n\"You always give people the benefit of the doubt.\"\n\n\"Maybe someday I'll get the full explanation. I really do think that there is one.\"\n\n\"So do you think that you'll all be able to get along now that you're dating Braden?\"\n\n\"I think so. I hope so. It was a long time ago and I like the present a lot better than the past. Now I'm going to go relax and watch PBS. There's a special on about the Bill of Rights tonight.\"\n\n\"You wild woman. Forgive me if I don't join you.\"\n\n\"Don't forget to stick around for Mr. Davis' plea tomorrow. I think you'll be more entertained by that.\n\n# CHAPTER SIXTEEN\n\n### IN THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS OF PHILADELPHIA COUNTY,  \nPENNSYLVANIA\n\n**Commonwealth v. Davis**\n\n\"You understand the charges that you're pleading guilty to, Mr. Davis? And you understand that you have a right to a trial?\" Judge Channing asked.\n\n\"Yes sir,\" Mr. Davis answered.\n\n\"Okay, summarize the facts, Mr. Pierce.\" Inner-Gabrielle rolled her eyes.\n\n\"On May fourteenth of this year in the County of Philadelphia, the defendant, Mr. Maximillian Davis, aged seventy-five, was in operation of a vehicle traveling southbound on Broad Street within the city limits. Several motorists called nine-one-one to notify authorities that a vehicle matching the description of Mr. Davis' was driving erratically. Officer Brian Picton of the Philadelphia Police Department got behind Mr. Davis in his patrol vehicle and witnessed Mr. Davis swerve across lanes, hit several parked vehicles and twice drive up on the sidewalk. Mr. Davis did eventually pull over and Officer Picton placed him under arrest. When questioned at the station, after having been advised of his rights and having waived counsel, he explained that he was making, and I quote, 'a booty call.' He further explained that at his age, when the mood strikes he needs to, quote, 'be quick about it' unquote. He is charged with ten counts of driving on the wrong side of the road, four counts of hit and run, four counts of damaging parked vehicles, and two counts of reckless endangerment.\"\n\n\"A booty call, Mr. Davis?\" Judge Channing asked in a disgusted tone.\n\n\"I've got needs just like you, sir. I just don't have the staying power I used to.\"\n\n\"Ms. Ginsberg?\" Judge Channing said, giving my client a look that most people reserved for gum that they found stuck to their shoes.\n\n\"Mr. Davis has no criminal record. He was gainfully employed with the erectric – electric! He was employed with the _electric_ company for over fifty years. Furthermore, he's an upstanding member of his community.\" Oh my God. Did I just say that? I saw Braden trying to maintain a straight face. I provided this man with a great deal of mirth. In fact, I filled his life with laughter.\n\n\"He was so concerned about remaining upstanding that he could have killed someone from his community,\" the judge responded acidly. Braden was now biting down on his lip to avoid laughing. I glanced behind me and saw Mark, Jess and Cameron also trying to maintain their composure. Have you ever noticed how everything seems so much funnier when you're not allowed to laugh? Well, court is like that a lot. Adam looked like he wasn't going to make it.\n\n\"He deeply regrets what happened, Your Honor, and assures you that it will never happen again.\"\n\n\"Well, the bad driving part anyway!\" Mr. Davis offered.\n\n\"Thank you for clarifying that,\" the judge retorted sarcastically. \"There's an agreement with the District Attorney's Office I take it?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Honor,\" Braden answered. \"The Commonwealth has no objection to a sentence of six months of probation and restitution for the damaged vehicles.\"\n\n\"The court accepts the plea. Mr. Maximillian Davis, you have indicated that you understand the charges and are entering a plea of guilty. I hereby sentence you to six months of probation and restitution for any damage that the owners of the vehicles in question can substantiate. Off the record please.\" The court reporter stopped typing. \"Viagra, Mr. Davis. Viagra!\" He banged his gavel just because he could.\n\n\"Yes, sir. Thanks, judge! See you later cutie.\" Mr. Davis smiled and winked at me flirtatiously before going off to report to the probation department.\n\nBraden and I were done for the morning and we packed up our files. We had all decided to go out to lunch. Braden officially introduced Cam to Adam and Mark and we all headed for Reading Terminal Market again. When we sat down to eat Mark got the ball rolling.\n\n\"So Cameron, I hope you were paying attention to how Gabrielle handled that.\"\n\n\"The erectric company!\" Adam laughed.\n\n\"Oh my God. I can't believe I said that,\" I mumbled.\n\n\"He's an upstanding member of the community,\" Braden added. \"That was great too.\"\n\n\"You liked that huh?\" I smiled.\n\n\"See what you have to look forward to, Cameron?\" Mark asked. \"One day you too can represent horny senior citizens while attempting to sound dignified.\"\n\n\"Too bad he wasn't around for that case with the nuns,\" Adam said to Jess.\n\n\"I would have been happy to hand that one off to you,\" she told Cam.\n\n\"I should introduce Mr. Davis to Ms. Franklin,\" I told Braden.\n\n\"That would be some hot date.\" He laughed. \"They could head down to the senior center, get high and get laid.\" Hearing Braden say \"get laid\" reminded me of the conversation we had recently shared lying naked in bed together just before I had gotten laid very well. It made me feel flushed and sent a jolt of heat to my girl parts. \"What?\" he asked me quietly. I guess I wasn't exactly hard to read.\n\n\"Nothing,\" I said, feeling my face getting even hotter.\n\n\"I think Gabrielle wants you to talk dirty to her,\" Mark teased.\n\n\"Braden's going to be making a booty call later,\" Adam chimed in. \"Just make sure you obey the traffic laws on the way.\"\n\nBraden looked at me and smiled. He knew perfectly well that I liked it when he talked dirty to me. He probably just hadn't realized that even saying \"get laid\" could turn me on when it was him saying it. \"You want me to make a booty call later?\"\n\n\"You're welcome to call on my booty if you want,\" I said, examining my spring rolls with intense interest and feeling like if I blushed any more I would start to glow.\n\n\"If you're going to talk dirty, though, just make sure you do it quietly,\" Jess teased Braden. \"Let me remind you again that there's a minor who lives next door.\"\n\n\"Again?\" Mark asked with an inquisitive smile.\n\n\"According to Drew, Gabrielle's the one you should be warning,\" Cameron added. _Et tu Cameron? Wait a minute!_\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I asked, suddenly feeling very worried. I saw Braden shaking his head at Cameron but it was obviously too late. \"What does he mean?\" I asked Braden. When confronted with the obvious, not even willful ignorance and denial are enough.\n\n\"Uh oh Braden,\" Adam laughed.\n\n\"Braden?\" I was getting really worried.\n\n\"Uh, Drew and Beth got home a little earlier than we thought.\" He looked a little worried himself, but I had a feeling that he was worrying because he thought that I might have a heart attack. \"Beth stayed downstairs to wait for my parents,\" he continued. \"Drew went up to bed though.\"\n\n\"I didn't hear...\" Suddenly my spring roll didn't look very appetizing. \"He didn't tease you about it,\" I said weakly.\n\n\"Yes, he did. You just didn't really notice because he was doing it subtly and I suspect that you didn't want to know. He teased me about it quite openly when we talked alone later though,\" he said gently.\n\n\"How do you know he wasn't making it up?\"\n\n\"He asked me where I got my desk and if I needed help repairing the wall.\"\n\n\"I see.\"\n\n\"Your desk huh?\" Adam said, glancing at Mark.\n\n\"Don't worry about it, Gabrielle.\" Braden said, rubbing my back. \"He's got some pretty wild roommates. He probably hears that all the time.\"\n\n\"And he was only teasing about everybody seeing you guys go into the pool house. He was one of the only people who noticed,\" Cameron put in. I think he was trying to be helpful.\n\n\"In the pool house too, huh? Did you guys even make it to the fundraiser?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"That was during the fundraiser,\" Cameron explained.\n\n\" _During_ the fundraiser?\" Mark laughed. \"Wow, you two are like bunny rabbits.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay. You're going to traumatize her,\" Jess warned. \"Honey, it's no big deal. So you had a good time with your boyfriend in bed, and on a desk, and in a pool house, and maybe you screamed his name a few times and his little brother heard...\" She stopped and looked at me. \"This isn't helping is it?\" I shook my head. \"So anyway, I'll bet your parents are excited that you're coming to visit,\" she said, nibbling on a French fry. It took me a minute to switch gears mentally but I managed it.\n\n\"Uh, yes. Yes, they are. They're excited about meeting Braden too,\" I answered, thankful for the change in subject.\n\n\"They are?\" He looked happy.\n\n\"Yes, they are. Don't forget, though, that I warned you about Bubbe.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThat afternoon went quickly as I prepared my cases for the next day. They were pretty unexciting, just some drug dealers, check forgers, purse snatchers, and the usual. There were no burrito assault cases or geriatric booty callers. Cam worked with Jess again and they were laughing and talking like old friends.\n\n\"So what are you ladies doing for dinner?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"I think I'm just going to grab something and take it home with me,\" I answered.\n\n\"I don't have any plans,\" Jess said.\n\n\"Well, Maybe you and I could go out and get a bite,\" Cam suggested.\n\n\"Sure,\" she said. \"Maybe we could go out for a drink afterward.\" Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jess point to me surreptitiously and mouth \"booty call\" and giggle quietly. I was so glad that people were so up-to-date with the intimate details of my sex life.\n\n\"Sounds great,\" Cam said with slightly unnatural-sounding enthusiasm.\n\nThey worked until six and then left together. I put in another half hour and then left, picked up some deli, and went home. I had eaten and washed up by eight and there was no sign of Jess. My cell started ringing and I saw it was Braden, calling earlier than usual. I felt a little nervous anticipation as I answered.\n\n\"Hey handsome.\"\n\n\"Still want me to come calling?\"\n\n\"I would love to be called on. Jess is out with Cameron.\"\n\n\"I'll be there in ten minutes.\"\n\nHe was there in five. I opened the door to let him in and noticed that he was dressed casually in jeans and a tee-shirt but he had a suit bag with him.\n\n\"Planning to spend the night?\"\n\n\"Planning to kick me out of bed?\" He came over, leaned down and gave me a deliciously minty, yet wonderfully hot kiss.\n\n\"Mm. You're always welcome in my bed.\"\n\n\"Good. Let's go there now and make good use of our privacy while it lasts.\"\n\n\"She could be back anytime. I'm not making any noise tonight.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'll bet I can get you to make some noise.\" He smiled wickedly.\n\n\"Oh really?\" I started backing up toward my bedroom.\n\n\"Oh really. Besides, I'm not going to be quiet tonight. I'm going to whisper all kinds of dirty things in your ear.\" I swallowed hard and felt myself start to sweat. I _so_ wanted him to whisper dirty things in my ear.\n\n\"Come and get me,\" I said in my best saucy voice and then I turned and hurried into my room.\n\n# CHAPTER SEVENTEEN\n\nAs soon as the door was closed behind us he was all over me and I was loving it. He practically threw me down on the bed and he had me naked in under a minute. Before I could even say, 'You're so good at this,' he had himself naked too and he was crawling toward me, pausing to run his tongue around my belly button a few times and then lick his way up to my breasts. _Oh lord!_ He was so good at that too. He began circling one nipple with his tongue and then dragged it into his mouth and started sucking vigorously. My hips came off the bed so hard and fast that I almost threw him off but he managed to stay with me. If he ever wanted to give up law he might have a career in rodeo.\n\n\"Oh God yes!\" I moaned loudly and I felt him smile. So much for not making any noise. He worked on the other breast for a while as I contributed by writhing around, moaning, raking my nails on his back and grabbing his hair. Hey, I was happy to do my part. We were both being rather unruly tonight.\n\n\"Promise me,\" I panted, \"you'll tell me if you hear Jess come home.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" he murmured, leaving my breast and nibbling a trail over my collarbone and up along my neck. Then bracing himself over me on his forearms, and using his hips to create all kinds of delightful friction between us, he started to whisper the most wonderfully dirty things in my ear. I won't go into everything that he said, but by the time he got to \"and then I'm going to fuck you hard until you scream my name\", I had pretty much lost all semblance of self-control.\n\nHe was a man of his word too. He did everything that he promised he would. First he was on top, and then I was on top, and then he was behind me holding onto my hair and playfully slapping my ass in the \"naughty but not really painful\" way — not in the \"I'm going to put a ball-gag in your mouth and suspend you from the ceiling\" way. This was the first time we had ever had sex this rowdy together. In fact, this was the first time I had ever had sex this rowdy at all. I'm telling you, this wasn't your grandmother's booty call. Unless, of course, your grandmother was a sex-crazed hussy like me. I don't know what exactly had gotten into us, but for some reason we were just both in the mood to be wicked and wild.\n\nWe were also loud. The first time we had been together the sounds of my pleasure had probably echoed throughout the second floor of the Pierce home but tonight Braden was almost as noisy as I was. There were plenty of gasps, moans and groans and he was also still saying very dirty things to me, and no longer in a whisper. Luckily, I knew that the Evans family from next door, along with their fourteen-year-old daughter Kaylee, was off visiting relatives in Martha's Vineyard. It really was best that Kaylee was in another state that evening.\n\nFinally the big moment arrived and I felt my muscles contract and my body shake. I believe I said something like, \"Oh yes! Braden, I'm coming!\" If I got that wrong, though, you could perhaps ask Jess, who was apparently walking in the front door at just that moment. Braden also managed to contribute a quote or two a few seconds later. I believe his exact words were \"Oh fuck! Gabrielle!\" accompanied by a groan.\n\nAs we lay there panting in a sweaty mass of tangled limbs I listened as Jess flipped some music on and cleared her throat loudly. Luckily I was too physically drained to work up the energy to be mortified. Besides, I think that I was getting used to people knowing what Braden and I did in bed.\n\n\"Uh Gabrielle?\" Braden said, breathing heavily.\n\n\"Yes?\" I managed.\n\n\"I think Jessica is home.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nWhen we recovered we decided to cuddle up in bed and watch PBS. At about eleven we went into my bathroom and we got ready to go to bed with plans to actually sleep. It was a nicely domestic contrast to the earlier part of the evening and we snuggled in together contentedly.\n\n\"So, I guess that we can add Jess to the list of people who know how good our sex life is,\" I said with resignation. It was possible that Kaylee knew how good our sex life was all the way out in Martha's Vineyard.\n\n\"Don't be embarrassed, Gabrielle. I loved it and what we say to each other in bed is about us, not about anybody else. Unless my parents are right outside. That thought kind of freaks me out a little for some reason.\"\n\n\"That's understandable. Nobody wants to associate their parents with sex. Did you like it better because we were being so wild?\"\n\n\"I liked it differently. I like it every way with you though. I wouldn't change anything.\" I leaned in and kissed him very tenderly.\n\n\"I'm really nuts about you, Braden.\"\n\n\"You're nuts all right.\" He laughed. My mouth dropped open with indignation. \"I'm just kidding, baby,\" he said pulling me to him for another sweet kiss. \"I feel the same way about you.\" We held each other very tightly for a few minutes and then fell asleep like that.\n\n* * *\n\nThe alarm went off at seven and Braden and I pulled ourselves out of bed. It was still very nice waking up with him but not nearly as much fun as being able to sleep in. Damn job. Why couldn't we just be independently wealthy? Well, technically, I guess we were. So why were we getting up again? The image of a certain blonde socialite with no apparent skills popped into my head. Okay, that was why.\n\n\"Coffee,\" I muttered.\n\n\"Coffee,\" he agreed.\n\nWe threw on some clothes and wandered toward the kitchen. Jessica was there already looking all bright and cheerful. God, I hated morning people.\n\n\"Morning Gab. Hello Braden,\" she said cheerfully.\n\n\"Good morning,\" Braden mumbled. I said something like \"gemnneg.\"\n\n\"Help yourself to some coffee. You're in the office all day, Gab?\"\n\n\"Uh huh. I was thinking that if I get enough done I might try to do some research and figure out how we might get those samples we discussed.\"\n\n\"Ah, good idea. The plan at the moment seems kind of abstract.\"\n\n\"I'll figure it out.\"\n\n\"Is there more?\" Braden asked, peering soulfully into his now empty coffee cup. What, had he inhaled it?\n\n\"God, we're like addicts,\" I replied.\n\n\"I wish they made a caffeine IV,\" he said.\n\n\"I just drink it for the taste,\" Jess said brightly. Two pairs of tired unamused eyes turned on her. \"Just sayin'.\"\n\n* * *\n\nWe all got ready for work and walked in together, stopping to pick up bagels and muffins on the way. We said goodbye to Braden as he headed toward his office and we headed toward ours.\n\n\"Sorry if we were kind of loud last night,\" I said sheepishly.\n\n\"I only caught the end. I was walking in during the big finish.\"\n\n\"I've never been like this before. I'm like a shameless harlot with him.\"\n\n\"In other words you have a good sex life.\"\n\n\"How did dinner and drinks go?\" I asked as we crossed Market Street avoiding random taxis and bicyclists who were obviously out for blood. I could navigate city traffic on autopilot.\n\n\"It was fun,\" she replied as we made it to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street and navigated around the line at a food cart that was blocking most of the sidewalk. Ah, the intricacies of urban pedestrian travel.\n\n\"Just fun? No spicy hot sexual chemistry?\"\n\n\"I don't think he's interested in me.\"\n\n\"It's probably like when I didn't think that Braden was interested in me.\"\n\n\"Uh no.\" She laughed. \"No offense, but you're one of those people who's so smart that you're oblivious, like professors who walk into walls. I, on the other hand, am very good at reading the signals that guys put out. Cam and I get along great, and I'm happy to have him as a friend, but that's probably all that it will be, at the moment at least.\"\n\n\"That's so surprising.\"\n\n\"Not really. I think he's attracted to you. In fact, I think that he always has been. Maybe he just didn't realize how much back when you were in college.\" We steered around a group of pigeons surrounding a pretzel like they were having a meeting about it, and narrowly avoided a dog walker accompanied by the entire AKC Kennel Club.\n\n\"But he knows that Braden and I are together.\"\n\n\"That doesn't mean he can control how he feels. I'm sure he'll work through it eventually, though, so I wouldn't worry about it.\" We finally arrived at our building and took the elevator to our floor. Cam was there waiting in our office.\n\n\"We brought you breakfast,\" I said, dropping a blueberry muffin on his desk.\n\n\"Thanks!\" he smiled at me brightly. \"So, did Braden come visit you last night?\" he asked nonchalantly. Now that Jess had been planting ideas in my head again I was watching his reactions. He and Braden had just made up after eight years on tension. I wanted to make sure that the truce lasted.\n\n\"Yep. We watched NOVA .We're both PBS addicts.\"\n\n\"Such a wild and crazy couple,\" Jess teased. And she knew how wild and crazy we could be.\n\n\"Braden was always into that stuff. He's a closet intellectual. He probably should have been an academic.\" He had a little stack of files on his desk that he was going through – a baby public defender pile. I remembered those days.\n\n\"Me too,\" I said. \"Oh well, too late now.\"\n\n\"You could still do something different,\" Jess chimed in. \"Maybe you could work for some kind of historical group or museum. They need lawyers, don't they?\" She started digging through the newly arrived grown-up public defender pile of files next to her desk that looked like if it fell it could crush a village.\n\n\"I'm fine doing this for now. At least I feel like I'm helping people and occasionally I even get a client who's innocent. I told you about Ms. Murphy didn't I?\"\n\n\"Gabrielle Ginsberg, champion of falsely accused sexually frustrated women.\"\n\n\"I should put that on my business card.\" A pile of files arrived for me too. So nice that nobody wanted me to feel left out. The one I needed was, of course, on the bottom of the pile.\n\nWe worked on preparing our cases that morning and Jess took Cam with her to watch parole violation hearings that afternoon. I carved out a couple of hours to contact my handwriting expert, Steve Flynn, a former FBI special agent, and work on the problem of how to get the samples. Steve told me that even if the author of the note had been trying to disguise his or her handwriting there would still be similarities. The sample was small, though, so he might not be able to come up with a definite match. I told him that I just needed something to point me in the right direction.\n\n# CHAPTER EIGHTEEN\n\nI sat down at the computer and starting looking at everything and anything I could find about Cole Stephenson. There were the usual press release type things and publicity shots of him at various community events. Finally, though, my search brought up a weird link to a message board called \"The Political Gossip Rag.\"\n\nI saw that it was a site for people who traded gossip about politicians like others did about celebrities. Cole was only small potatoes politically, so he didn't have the amount of commentary that better known politicians had generated, but some of his proclivities had made him interesting enough to discuss. There were all kinds of rumors about him. One type of rumor kept reappearing, that he was in to kink. There was nothing first-hand though. Everyone had \"heard\" the story from someone else so it didn't seem very reliable — but then, I guess that was pretty much what \"gossip\" was. If you could believe it, though, he liked to be dominated by women and treated like a bad little boy.\n\nThen I got to a thread that was particularly interesting. It said that rumor had it he regularly attended underground sex parties in the Philadelphia area thrown by someone named Fanny Hill. I decided to try to find out more.\n\nThere was some mention of the parties on websites for people in the area into alternative lifestyles. Even though they were underground, they were considered \"open\" parties in that you didn't have to be a member of a club or anything. You just had to pay a fee and have someone who the party organizer, presumably Ms. Hill, knew vouch for you. Everyone wore masks so it was anonymous and there were rumors that some of the guests were \"professionals.\" The parties seemed to be loosely associated with a place called Gili's Cabaret. I made a note of it and figured that we may have to check it out.\n\nIt occurred to me, if you were a politician into kink you couldn't exactly just stroll into a fetish club. If you wanted to get kinky with a bunch of other people it would have to be at a private party. So, if there was any truth to the kink rumors, it would make sense that Cole might be attending these little get-togethers. An idea was forming in my head. It was kind of nutty, but then so was I.\n\nJess and Cam got back a little while later and I shared what I had learned with them.\n\n\"Are those parties even real?\" Jess asked dubiously. \"I always suspected it was some kind of urban legend.\"\n\n\"They're real,\" Cam answered. \"I have a cousin who's attended them.\" I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. \"Not Braden,\" he said quickly and smiled. \"Derek. He's kind of the black sheep of the family.\" I recalled Braden's comment that I should never meet his cousin Derek.\n\n\"Do you think he could vouch for you?\" I asked.\n\n\"Uh, well, I'm sure that whoever runs them knows him, and he probably could,\" Cam replied hesitantly. \"Even if I got in, though, how would I get Cole to give me a handwriting sample?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't. Jess would. He likes to be treated like a naughty boy. So, maybe she could treat him like one.\" I outlined my plan for them.\n\n\"Oh no! No, no, no, uh uh, nope, forget it,\" Jess said.\n\n\"Oh come on! What's the big deal?\" All I wanted was that she dress up like a dominatrix and spank a lecherous politician into writing down why he was a naughty boy. Was that really so much to ask?\n\n\"That can't possibly be a serious question.\"\n\n\"Nobody will know who you are.\"\n\n\"Oh! Well why didn't you say so? I have no problem attending an underground sex party and getting kinky with a perverted stranger to get a writing sample... just as long as nobody knows who I am.\"\n\n\"You're being sarcastic, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Is this really worth it, Gabrielle?\" She gave me an exasperated look but I knew that I was wearing her down.\n\n\"If it is him, I'll tell him that I have evidence against him and if he wants to maintain his political aspirations he had better never bother me or Braden again. If it isn't him, he'll never be the wiser, and I won't have to risk falsely accusing a public figure.\"\n\n\"How am I going to get in? I don't have a kinky cousin.\"\n\n\"I think you're allowed to bring your spouse,\" Cam said.\n\n\"I can't be the one to do it. Cole knows my voice. Are you going to help me or not, Jess?\" I gave her my best pleading look — the one I reserved for those rare times when I actually got a client who was sympathetic if not actually innocent.\n\n\"Oh! Okay.\" She sighed. \"Why not? I've never been to an underground sex party before.\"\n\n\"Thank you! I owe you! And thank you too, Cameron. I owe you both.\"\n\n\"Oh, no need to thank me Gab. Since I ran into you again my life is no longer boring.\" He smiled. \"What are you going to tell Braden, though?\"\n\n\"I don't want to lie to him. Supposedly the parties are held twice a month. He has a legal training for Pennsylvania law enforcement personnel out in Pittsburgh next weekend. He'll be away from Friday morning to Sunday morning and there's a fifty/fifty shot that there'll be a party then. I'll just be a little ambiguous about what I'm doing and where I'm going. I need you to have a man-to-man with Derek, Cam. We need details. Lots and lots of details.\"\n\n\"Okay. Sounds like a plan,\" Cam said.\n\n\"Go team,\" Jess said dryly.\n\n# CHAPTER NINETEEN\n\n### IN THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS OF PHILADELPHIA COUNTY  \nPENNSYLVANIA\n\n**Commonwealth v. Whitley**\n\n\"Your Honor, Mr. Whitley is pleading guilty to indecent exposure,\" Braden informed Judge Channing. My client stood next to me looking very contrite. I tried not to stand too close to him. He was looking at me in a way that made me distinctly uncomfortable. Inner-Gabrielle sighed. I loved my job sometimes. And I really didn't mean that.\n\n\"You understand the charge, Mr. Whitley, and that you have a right to trial?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Honor.\"\n\n\"And you wish to waive that right and enter a plea of guilty?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Honor,\" Mr. Whitley answered solemnly. He really was a rather dignified-looking guy. He was even wearing a suit. Looks could be deceiving though.\n\n\"Mr. Pierce, please give me the facts of the case.\" I tried not to cringe.\n\n\"Your Honor, in the early morning hours of May third in the County of Philadelphia, Mr. Todd Whitley drove his automobile through the drive-through lane of a Burger King Restaurant on Broad Street where one LaTanya Wilson was working the late shift. Mr. Whitley placed an order and pulled up to the window. When Ms. Wilson leaned out to collect his money, she saw that he was holding his genitals in his hand and he reportedly asked her, and I quote, 'Hey baby, do you want to hold my whopper?' unquote. He then drove off and Ms. Wilson noted his license plate number and contacted the authorities.\"\n\n\"Mr. Whitley,\" Judge Channing said in a reproving voice. \"Couldn't you come up with something more original than _that_?\" Judge Channing looked like he had a bad case of indigestion. \"Don't answer that! Ms. Ginsberg?\" he asked, sounding both bored and disgusted.\n\n\"Mr. Whitley has no criminal record. He's a college student studying hospitality management.\" Stupid frat boy. I was careful not to mention that he was an upstanding citizen. \"He regrets his actions.\" Yeah right. Ew.\n\n\"Mr. Todd Whitley, you've indicated that you understand the charge and you wish to plead guilty. There's an agreement with the DA's office?\"\n\n\"A year probation and sex offender classes, fines and costs,\" Braden answered.\n\n\"The court accepts the plea and Mr. Whitley is hereby sentenced to a year's probation, sex offender classes, a one thousand dollar fine and court costs.\" The judge banged his gavel. \"Court adjourned.\" He got up and left without a backward glance. My client smiled a creepy smile at me and reached out to shake my hand. He had to be kidding. I gave him a friendly pat on the arm and wished him luck. Then I went over to my table to pack up my things. That was the last case for the day.\n\n\"Hey baby...\" Braden smiled.\n\n\"Don't say it!\" I warned. He laughed and handed me the order. \"Let's leave early,\" I suggested. \"I just want to get out of here and go scrub myself off.\"\n\n\"Sounds good to me. Want to bring your stuff over to my place?\" he invited.\n\n\"Sure. By the way, we're sharing a room at my parent's place too, and I have to admit that I have the same Freudian issues about them hearing us, so I'm really going to try to be quiet tonight.\"\n\n\"That's okay. I'm kind of in a quieter mood anyway.\" He leaned down and kissed me gently and I smiled up at him. Suddenly, I had the urge to tell him nice things about how I felt.\n\n\"I'm glad you're coming home with me and I really do want you to meet my parents. They're pretty cool even if the rest of my family isn't.\"\n\nBraden pulled me into a hug and we stood like that for a couple of minutes until I heard an \"ahem\" come from the direction of the bench. We both pulled back quickly and nervously looked up. Judge Channing had obviously left his glasses behind in his quest to be out of there. I was surprised to see that there seemed to be a kinder than usual, almost amused look in his eyes.\n\n\"Err, if I didn't say it before. Have a nice weekend you two.\"\n\n\"Thanks Your Honor,\" I said with a smile.\n\n\"Yes, thank you Your Honor and you too,\" Braden added.\n\n\"And try not to bring too many crazy cases into my courtroom next week,\" he added, but he couldn't quite match his usual level of gruffness. As he turned I saw something that may actually have been a smile.\n\n* * *\n\nAt six that evening our train pulled into Penn Station and we got a cab to my parent's place on the Upper East Side. Being back in New York always filled me with energy. I loved the noise, the smells, the lights, and the people. New York just always made me feel so alive. We pulled up outside the three-story Brownstone townhouse in the east seventies and my parents were waiting out on the stoop with their arms around each other. Ben and Judy Ginsberg were such a nice couple. Braden and I got out of the cab and grabbed our bags. My father came over to help us and we schlepped our stuff onto the sidewalk as my mom paid the cabbie. Mom and dad pulled me into a ginormous hug and buried me with love. Then they stepped back and looked over at Braden with big bright smiles.\n\n\"Braden, this is my mom, Judy, and this is my dad Ben. Mom, Dad, this is Braden.\"\n\n\"Hello,\" my parents said at the same time.\n\nI could see that they weren't completely sure what to do with the six foot three beautiful blonde gentile that their daughter had brought home, but that whatever it was, they wanted to do it right.\n\n\"It's a pleasure to meet you,\" Braden said, sounding very charming but also a tiny bit nervous.\n\nMy dad went over and shook Braden's hand warmly.\n\n\"The pleasure's all ours! Gabby's never brought anyone home to meet us before. You must be special to her.\" My dad was such a nice guy, which explained why he was willing to marry into my mom's wacky family.\n\nMy mom came over and took both of Braden's hands in hers. \"Wow, you're very handsome, and a lawyer! That's nice! Please come in; let's get you off the street.\" We went up the steps and into the front parlor. \"Have a seat; make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something? Wine, beer, juice? We have good juice! Fresh squeezed.\" I had a feeling she would have grown the oranges herself for him if she could have. I wandered in behind everyone else and found a seat on my own.\n\n\"Oh, I'm fine, thanks,\" Braden answered politely. Apparently nobody cared if I wanted juice.\n\n\"So, did you guys make reservations for us somewhere?\" I asked.\n\n\"We decided that we should do Shabbos dinner here and we invited the family,\" my dad said.\n\n\"Please tell me you're joking.\"\n\n\"Gabby, sweetie,\" my mom said consolingly. \"It's best to get it over with quickly, trust me.\"\n\n\"Honey, I met them on my first date with your mother.\" He looked at Braden. \"I married her anyway.\" I saw Braden try not to laugh. \"It's okay! You can laugh. We laugh a lot here. It keeps us sane and being sane is what separates us from the rest of Judy's family.\"\n\n\"Who's coming here? I demand that you tell me!\"\n\n\"Uncle Ira, Aunt Ruthie and Rachel,\" my mom answered.\n\n\"Okay fine.\"\n\n\"And Bubbe of course.\"\n\n\"Oh great!\" I threw my hands up in the air, got up and started pacing.\n\n\"You told Braden about Bubbe, right, Gab?\" my dad asked, smiling nervously.\n\n\"I told him that she's blunt.\"\n\n\"Blunt?\" My mother seemed to consider that. \"That was very tactful, honey.\" She turned to Braden. \"Braden, darling, my mother's got a dirty mind and a mouth like a sailor. She's also got no tact whatsoever. Just ignore her.\" She gave him a sweet smile.\n\n\"Seriously, just ignore Rose,\" my dad seconded. \"The night that I met her, she shook my hand and asked me how many women I had schtupped. I'll be happy to translate any Yiddish that you don't understand, by the way.\" He hesitated. \"You can probably figure that one out though.\"\n\n\"Uh yeah,\" Braden said with a laugh. For some reason he looked delighted. I think he was having fun!\n\n\"Well. Let's get your stuff up to your room. You're staying together right?\" Dad asked.\n\n\"That's okay?\" Braden asked.\n\n\"Oh sure! We don't care!\"\n\n\"Thanks Dad,\" I said dryly.\n\n\"Well, I mean we _care_ but we figure Gabby can make her own choices, and we'd rather see her sleeping with you than a bunch of cats.\" He turned and headed up the stairs, with us following in his wake. We went down the hall to my room. It hadn't changed much over the years. The queen-sized bed covered with soft pillows, the overflowing bookshelves and comfy reading chair, the framed black and white photos of Dorothy Parker and Woody Allen hanging on the wall. It was all still there.\n\n\"I'll let you two get settled. Come down whenever you're ready.\"\n\n\"Okay Dad.\" I turned to Braden. \"We'll go out for dinner tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I'm happy to eat in. This is your Sabbath dinner, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but we're not super religious. We light candles and break bread and drink wine but we're not going to cart you off to a synagogue or anything.\"\n\n\"I think it's interesting! I've had dinner on Friday nights with Adam's family before.\"\n\n\"You have? Well, that's great. But I should warn you, we're more like _The_ Addams family.\"\n\n\"Stop worrying! My great-uncle Leland thinks he's still in the army even though he's seventy-eight.\" Braden came over and stood behind me, circling my waist with his arms. \"I think your parents are great. I see where you get your sense of humor.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you like them.\" I smiled. He leaned down and kissed my neck.\n\n\"I missed you last night,\" he whispered. \"I'm glad we can sleep together tonight.\"\n\n\"Me too.\" I turned around and pulled his mouth to mine for a deep and tender kiss. After a few moments though I pulled back.\n\n\"The peanut gallery will be here soon. We should save this for later. We'll probably need to comfort each other after they leave anyway.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" he said, tucking my hair behind my ear gently. As if on cue I heard the doorbell. I tensed up. It was time. I tried to remember my mother's words. It was best to get it over with quickly.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY\n\nWe walked downstairs and first I saw my Aunt Ruth and my Uncle Ira. Ruth came over to me and clutching me to her ample bosom, said in the most nasal voice and the heaviest Queens (and I don't mean the British kind) accent most people have ever heard, \"Gabrielle! How awre you?\"\n\n\"I'm great, Aunt Ruth. How are you?\"\n\n\"Fabulous! Simply fabulous! You look amazing! Look Ira! Doesn't Gabrielle look amazing?\"\n\n\"You look amazing, Gabrielle. You lost some weight huh?\"\n\n\"Nah, not really. I just walk a lot, so I'm kind of like more toned, you know? Uh, let me introduce you. This is my boyfriend Braden. Braden, this is my Aunt Ruth and my Uncle Ira.\"\n\n\"It's a pleasure to meet you,\" Braden said, sounding wonderfully cultured. It wasn't hard to sound wonderfully cultured next to my Aunt Ruth though.\n\n\"Oh my gawd!\" Ruth screeched. \"Gabrielle brought a guy home! And he's so good-looking!\" I wanted to crawl under the couch and hide.\n\n\"Well, that's a first!\" Ira added. \"It's a pleasure to meet you, Braden! We were starting to wonder if maybe Gabby was gay, you know?\" He chuckled. \"Not that there's anything wrong with that.\"\n\n\"There's nothing wrong with that! I know lots of gay people!\" Ruth chimed in. \"My hair stylist is gay and he's a lovely person!\" She seemed to be apologetically explaining this to me for some reason.\n\n\"Where's Rachel?\" I asked, before Ruth could name every gay person she knew.\n\n\"She and Bubbe are still outside. They're having a little disagreement and I asked them to resolve it before they came in,\" she said, rolling her eyes.\n\n\"Maybe we should check on them,\" my mom said. Yeah, no kidding. They could be out there all night. On the other hand... My mom went out front.\n\n\"Ben!\" Ira said. \"How's the world of big business?\"\n\n\"Great, Ira! How's the dry-cleaning business?\"\n\n\"Wonderful! We're the ones who keep your guys lookin' good!\" My dad chuckled like Ira hadn't said that every time that he had seen him for the past thirty years.\n\n\"And what do you do, Braden?\" Ira asked.\n\n\"I'm an assistant district attorney.\" He smiled.\n\n\"Another lawyer! Well, good for you, Gabby! You found one with a good job. We were worried you might get desperate enough to start dating your clients. So when are you getting married?\" I wanted to drink bleach.\n\n\"Uh, well, we haven't been dating that long yet, Uncle Ira.\"\n\n\"Well, Gabby, you're not getting any younger and I don't think you want to let this one go, you know what I'm saying, kiddo?\" he said in a quiet voice, like he was sharing privileged information with me.\n\n\"Ira, why don't you come with me for a minute while I check on dinner?\" My dad jumped in quickly. \"I want to hear everything that's going on in the dry cleaning world.\" Dad was such a great guy. He was totally taking one for the team. Ira followed him to the kitchen, talking serious dry cleaning talk. The front door swung open and my mother came in looking stressed. She plastered a big smile on her face anyway. She was pretty great too. My parents were really going to the mat for me.\n\n\"Gabrielle, sweetheart, look, your cousin Rachel's here!\" Rachel, my thirty-two-year-old cougar cousin with the big hair, the expensive manicure and the Jimmy Choos came over and hugged me.\n\n\"Gabrielle, you look great!\"\n\n\"So, do you Rach! This is my boyfriend, Braden.\"\n\n\"What a pleasure,\" she smiled. Then she turned to me and said loud enough for everyone to hear, \"Wow, very hot. Is he built to scale?\" My eyes widened. Braden coughed to cover a surprised laugh. And then I heard it, coming in the door, the voice of my childhood nightmares.\n\n\"Gabrielle! Dahling! Is that you?\"\n\n\"Bubbe! Yes it's me.\" My grandmother, all four foot eleven inches of her, shuffled in, leaning on her cane. The cane was a prop, of course; she could sprint a city block when she needed to.\n\n\"I almost didn't recognize you. Probably because you never visit me. I wouldn't know your voice because you never call me either. Would it kill you to call once in a while? Maybe you could even write a letter if you were feeling particularly generous.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Bubbe.\" She made it to the front of the crowd and squinted up at Braden. She also had twenty/twenty vision incidentally. \"Who's the Viking?\"\n\n\"This is my boyfriend, Braden, Bubbe.\"\n\n\"Your boyfriend? We thought you were gay. Does he have a job?\"\n\n\"He's a lawyer.\"\n\n\"A lawyer who makes money or a lawyer like you?\"\n\n\"He's a prosecutor.\"\n\n\"So, a lawyer like you but on the right side.\" She squinted again. \"He doesn't look Jewish.\"\n\n\"He's not Jewish, Bubbe.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"What do you mean why not?\" Rachel cut in. \"Because he's not! And I've got news for you. It doesn't matter! I married a nice Jewish guy.\" _Oh no! Here we go!_ \"A doctor! Top of the freaking Jewish food chain. And do you know where he is now? Shacking up with a twenty-three-year-old shiksa! That's where he is now!\"\n\n\"Well, were you keeping him happy in bed?\" Bubbe asked, and I started to panic.\n\n\"Ma!\" my mother cut in. \"How could you ask that? You're not gonna blame her because her husband cheated on her?!\"\n\n\"I'll bet you any money she didn't give him oral attention,\" Bubbe announced.\n\n\"Uh! I don't think we should...\" I tried.\n\n\"Excuse me! But a lot of women simply do not enjoy performing oral sex! I mean guys pee out of that thing!\" Rachel shouted.\n\n\"See? What did I tell you?\" Bubbe looked smug.\n\n\"Braden, maybe we should check on dinner,\" I said desperately.\n\n\"Uh,\" he replied. I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the kitchen where Ira was still talking dry cleaning and my dad's eyes were glazing over.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" I said to Braden and I meant it from the bottom of my heart.\n\n\"It's okay! Don't worry so much.\" I could hear Rachel and Bubbe yelling at one another in the other room. My mom popped her head in.\n\n\"So, Ben, sweetheart, does the brisket look done?\"\n\n\"Judy! Yes, honey, why don't you help me? I don't want to impose on Ira here. Ira, why don't you go in the other room and relax?\" Like anybody could relax with the cage match going on in there.\n\n\"Okay, if you don't mind.\"\n\n\"No! Not at all! Go! Really!\" my dad pleaded. Ira grabbed a carrot stick and headed for the other room. Maybe he had learned to block them out.\n\n\"Daddy, can Braden and I please stay in here and help you too? _Please_!\"\n\n\"Yes, of course sweetheart! You don't have to go back out there.\"\n\n\"So, Braden, I hope you like brisket,\" my mother said with a smile just as Rachel shouted something about how maybe Bubbe should just go and blow all the guys in her bridge club.\n\n\"I do, thanks,\" he said, trying not to laugh. My dad turned to face him with a look of exasperated amusement, and in that moment, Braden Pierce and Ben Ginsberg bonded.\n\n\"Okay, let's get this show on the road. Gabby, do you want to light the candles, sweetheart?\" Dad asked.\n\n\"Okay. Ma, will you please make them be quiet?\"\n\n\"Of course, honey.\" She took a deep breath. \"Ben, Gabby, I love you. Braden, darling I think you're wonderful. Okay! Let's go!\" she said in a voice filled with steely determination. We got into the other room and my mother put two fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly. \"Everybody shut up! It's time to light the candles and welcome the Sabbath!\" I sighed.\n\n\"Here you go, Braden,\" my dad said, handing him a yarmulke. Braden looked at it like he had just been given a gift. There weren't a lot of six foot three blonde-haired blue-eyed guys who wore Jewish skull caps, but he managed to carry it off pretty well. We went into the dining room and everyone stood by the sideboard as I lit the candles and said the blessing. I glanced up and smiled at Braden who was watching me carefully. He really found this interesting. I also saw my parents watching him. The fact that he found it interesting made them happy. Somebody up there must have been listening to the prayers because my crazy relatives stopped screaming at each other and sat down quietly. It was a Sabbath miracle.\n\nDinner wasn't too bad. The food was great and my relatives had the courtesy to call a ceasefire. For most of it anyway. There were a few awkward moments.\n\n\"So you two are sleeping together?\" Bubbe asked.\n\n\"Ma!\" my mother cut in.\n\n\"It's okay. We seem to get asked that a lot,\" Braden said with a smile.\n\n\"Well, it's no big deal if you are, sweetheart. God knows that Ben schtupped Judy enough before they got married. The two of them were always going at it.\"\n\n\"Bubbe please!\" I begged. \"I don't want to hear about my parents having sex at the Sabbath meal! Or ever! I need therapy now.\"\n\n\"Mother that is enough!\" My mom was getting seriously pissed.\n\n\"Hey, at least you're out of high school not like Rachel's boyfriends,\" Bubbe responded giving Braden an evil smile.\n\n\"For the last time! My boyfriends are not in high school, you crazy old bag! _One_ of them was a college student who was student teaching.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe your cousin could teach you a thing or two about how to find a boyfriend old enough to have finished college. Look at the Viking over there! I'll bet he gets plenty of oral attention!\"\n\nI almost passed out, I swear. And then it dawned on me; while he may have gotten plenty in the past, I hadn't given him any. As if sensing my thoughts Braden reached over and squeezed my hand reassuringly.\n\n\"Okay, okay Rose,\" my dad said, starting to sound very pissed off too. \"My family's sex lives are not dinner conversation.\" As if wanting to be a stand-up guy too, Ira chimed in and attempted to change the subject. Unfortunately, it was Ira.\n\n\"So Gabrielle, maybe if you do good work you can get a job as a real lawyer someday.\"\n\n\"A public defender is a real lawyer. In fact most of them are better than the private defense lawyers,\" Braden corrected, sounding a teeny bit pissed himself. What a lovely family dinner.\n\n\"You hear that Ira?\" Ruth asked in a chastising tone. \"He didn't mean any offense Gabby! We know that getting criminals off is very important!\"\n\nBubbe huffed. Apparently, she didn't agree.\n\n\"At any rate,\" Ira tried again, \"you're _looking_ great Gabby! You were getting kind of chunky there for a while.\"\n\n\"So Braden, do you have any brothers or sisters?\" Rachel cut in, trying to help out.\n\n\"I have a sister who's twenty-five and a brother who's twenty-three.\"\n\n\"Uh oh,\" Bubbe said under her breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.\n\n\"What's that supposed to mean?!\" Rachel shot back.\n\n\"Okay enough!\" my mother shouted.\n\nWe ate in silence for a few minutes before Bubbe made one last attempt to be annoying by asking Braden if he would be learning anything about Jewish culture in the foreseeable future. Before I or anyone else, could rush in to defend the fact that he had had the audacity to be born a gentile, he himself answered that he had been thinking about doing that for quite some time, as one of his closest friends was also Jewish. My mother looked like she wanted to crawl across the table and embrace him and my dad looked like he wanted to fund a scholarship at Yeshiva University in his name.\n\nAfter dinner everyone retired to the parlor and my father did something extraordinarily kind; he suggested that since Braden and I enjoyed walking so much, we should go out for a stroll around the neighborhood before it got dark. I loved my dad! We headed out into the warm New York evening holding hands.\n\n\"So I'm sure you've been to New York many times, but this is my neighborhood.\"\n\n\"I love this. These homes have so much character. This city has so much character.\" He was looking around and taking it all in.\n\n\"I think so too! Whenever I was feeling depressed about something I would take a walk and remind myself that I lived in one of the most exciting, must cultural, most interesting cities in the world and it would cheer me up.\" I smiled and took it all in.\n\n\"You really love it.\" He smiled.\n\n\"I do!\"\n\n\"So why did you move to Philly?\"\n\n\"I wanted some space from my family so I could learn how to be a grown-up. Besides, I like Philly too, even more now.\" I squeezed his hand.\n\nWe talked about what we should do the next day and decided to visit a museum and go book shopping among other things. As it got darker we walked home again, and I must say I felt much calmer than when we left. When we got back nobody was fighting, thank God. My relatives were being decently well behaved and they had the courtesy to leave not long after we got back.\n\n\"So, Braden! You survived!\" my dad said with a smile.\n\n\"They were very interesting.\" Braden laughed.\n\n\"Clearly he doesn't know them well enough yet,\" my mother said dryly. \"So my darling family, it's nine o'clock on a Friday evening in Manhattan. Obviously we can't just stay in the house.\" I liked that fact that she had included Braden in our \"darling family.\" He seemed to like it too. It was almost cracking me up how much he was enjoying this trip so far.\n\n\"Well, kids, what do you think?\" my dad asked. \"Jones Wood Foundry?\"\n\n\"That's a British style pub not far from here. You can sit outside,\" I explained to Braden.\n\n\"Sounds great,\" he replied.\n\n\"Okay then! Let's go get some well-deserved alcohol!\" My mom laughed.\n\nWe headed out to the pub and settled in for a chat. We had a lot of fun. My parents were on a real roll, cracking all kinds of jokes, doing impressions of my relatives, telling funny stories and being very cute and flirty with each other.\n\n\"So Braden, I've been looking into your dad's political record. I'm a Democrat but I really liked what I saw. He seems to be a well-grounded guy with some really good ideas.\"\n\n\"My father is pretty level-headed. He's not a reactionary.\"\n\n\"I like that. That's what we need more of in Washington.\"\n\n\"Braden's family is so sweet. They were so nice to me.\"\n\n\"I guess that means we can't stick him with the check then, huh?\" my dad joked.\n\n\"Be quiet!\" I laughed.\n\n\"You should let Braden and I spend some time getting to know each other tomorrow,\" my dad said. \"I promise to go easy on him.\"\n\n\"No hints!\" I said. \"We've only been dating for a couple of weeks. Give the poor guy a break.\"\n\n\"Hints? Hints about what? I don't know what she's talking about. Do you know what she's talking about?\" he asked my mom.\n\n\"I have no idea what she's talking about,\" she said innocently.\n\n\"Incidentally, I can get you a good deal on a band and a caterer should you ever need them for anything,\" Dad joked. At least I think he was joking.\n\n\"So, do you want to see baby pictures of Gabby?\" Mom asked with a huge grin. \"She was so cute!\"\n\nThis was obviously some kind of a mom thing. Maybe when I had given birth someday I would develop the Kodak moment hormone.\n\n\"Hey! I'm still cute.\"\n\n\"I would love to,\" Braden said enthusiastically.\n\n\"You _would_?\" I asked, surprised. The guy who had recently told me that he wanted to nail me against the fucking wall now wanted to see my baby pictures. That was unexpected.\n\n\"We should show him the one where she took all her clothes off at that birthday party,\" my mom said to my dad with a smile.\n\n\"Oh my God! What, have you been holding on to that picture all these years just waiting for this opportunity to humiliate me?\"\n\n\"Oh come on! It's so cute! She's shaking her naked little tuckus to Disney songs.\" My dad smiled at Braden who looked like he was trying not to laugh.\n\n\"What is _wrong_ with you people? I finally bring a guy home and you immediately have to break out the kiddie porn?\"\n\n\"Gabby! I'm sure he's seen you naked before,\" my mom said. Clearly my parents weren't going to stop until I had no pride left.\n\n\"Oh! Yuck — Ma! You sound like Bubbe! I'm really gonna need therapy now.\"\n\n\"Oh please!\" She rolled her eyes and waved her hand.\n\n\"I do really want to see that picture,\" Braden said to my mom with a smile. Great.\n\nWe made plans to just relax in the morning. My dad and Braden could hang out and \"get to know each other\" whatever that entailed. After lunch, we would go to the Museum of the City of New York, then go to the Strand Bookstore, have dinner in the Village, and then go watch Shakespeare in the park. Sounded like a fun day. At least that was the plan. We got back home around eleven and Braden and I told my parents that we were going to turn in. They said that they were going to stay up a little longer and they wished us goodnight.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE\n\nWe got up to my room and I locked the door behind me. I wasn't taking any chances.\n\n\"So, what do you want to do now?\" he asked with his hot Braden sex smile. It wasn't hard to figure out what he wanted to do now.\n\n\"I'm glad you asked. Have a seat.\" I gestured to the stuffed armchair near my overflowing bookshelf. He went over and sat down, looking at me expectantly. \"You know what Bubbe said about oral attention?\" I asked as I came over and sat on the ottoman that was resting in front of the chair.\n\n\"Yes?\" He was looking very interested.\n\n\"Well, it occurred to me that while you've been very generous and giving with your oral attentions, I haven't made any effort at all to reciprocate. So, you do like that, right?\"\n\n\"I'm a guy, Gabrielle. Most guys like that.\" I tried not to think about how many women may have diverted him in restrooms across the Greater Philadelphia Metropolitan area.\n\n\"I feel bad. I should have offered.\" I sounded like I was saying I should have offered to do the dishes or pick up the check.\n\n\"Gabby, it's only been a couple of weeks. It's not like we've been married for ten years and you haven't offered.\" He paused, looking at my expression which happened to be an amused smile. \"What?\"\n\n\"You called me Gabby.\" I smiled.\n\n\"I did? Probably because your parents always call you that.\"\n\n\"It's okay. You can call me that if you want. Did you have a nickname?\"\n\n\"My mom and dad used to call me Brady when I was a kid.\"\n\n\"Brady? That's so sweet!\"\n\n\"Well, you can call me Brady if you want.\"\n\n\"Oh lord. Adam and Mark are right. We're a disturbingly cute couple.\"\n\n\"It's understandable. We both have happily married, disturbingly cute parents.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's pretty uncommon these days.\"\n\n\"It's pretty rare these days, but how did we start out talking about oral sex and end up talking about our parents?\"\n\n\"I don't know but that's very disturbingly disturbing. Let's go back to the original topic. Of course, I realize that by having this conversation I've pretty much killed the moment.\"\n\n\"Trust me. It wouldn't be hard to revive.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" I smiled and stood up, leaning over to start kissing his neck. He took a deep breath.\n\n\"It's definitely reviving,\" he said with a laugh.\n\n\"Mm.\" I started sucking on his earlobe and slid my hands under his shirt and across his bare abs and chest. His breathing got heavier and his hands went to cup and gently squeeze my breasts. I pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Then I let my mouth move lower, nibbling a trail and tracing over it with my tongue. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. I worked my way even lower with open-mouthed kisses, grazing my teeth lightly against his skin and then I licked his belly button, making him groan. I reached down and opened his jeans, realizing, however, that I had encountered some logistical problems. \"Uh, I may need some help here.\"\n\nHe stood up and removed his pants and boxers, showing very clearly that the moment had been very much revived. \"So I see you're up for this,\" I quipped.\n\n\"Oh man. That was so bad!\" He shook his head.\n\n\"I've got a million of 'em. Sit down, Harvard.\" Harvard sat down.\n\n\"Take your shirt and your bra off,\" he said huskily.\n\n\"Me?\"\n\n\"Yeah you.\" He laughed. \"Who do you think I'm talking to?\"\n\n\"Listen Mr. Funny Guy, I want to do this for you. You don't have to do anything for me.\"\n\n\"Being able to see you excites me.\"\n\n\"Oh, okay.\" I had almost forgotten. He was a boob man. I took off my shirt and bra and I could see his eyes get darker. I figured I might as well take the rest off while I was at it and so I slipped out of my shorts and panties too.\n\n\"Gabrielle, you're so beautiful.\"\n\n\"You're the beautiful one, Braden.\" I sat down on the ottoman again and leaned in to start running my tongue down his happy trail as he started to pant. I could see that he was trying not to squirm and I took pity. Building anticipation is one thing and torture is another. I wrapped my hand around him and took him as far back into my mouth as I could. He gasped and his hips seemed to rise involuntarily. I looked up at him and saw his eyes were fixed on me.\n\n\"You look so fucking hot,\" he said hoarsely. I slid him in and out of my mouth and used my hand to take care of the part that didn't fit. As I've mentioned before, Braden is a healthy boy, and despite reports to the contrary, my mouth isn't _that_ big. His breathing started coming in harsh rasps and he reached down and pulled my hair back away from my face, presumably so that he could better see what I was doing to him. I glanced up again and saw that he looked dazed and his face was flushed. He also kept mumbling words of pleasure and encouragement to me continuously, sounding almost delirious. Remembering our encounter in the interview room, I reached down with my other hand and gently squeezed his balls making him groan with pleasure.\n\nEventually, I sensed that he was getting close. His hips were moving up to meet my mouth and his fingers were buried in my hair. He was breathing quickly and heavily through his mouth and I could feel the tension in his body. Suddenly, he froze. \"I'm going to come!\" he bit out. I kept going and he tried to pull back. \"Baby! I'm...\" I started to move faster, not letting him escape. He didn't finish — well his sentence anyway. He groaned louder and let out a ragged breath as his body shuddered. I swallowed quickly and he looked down at me with stunned bliss. \"That was so good,\" he said, still breathing heavily. \"My heart's beating so fast.\"\n\n\"You're not going to have a heart attack or something, are you?\" I asked nervously. I could just picture that story on Page Six – senator's son winds up in hospital...\n\n\"No.\" He laughed. \"But we'll have to be careful when I'm Mr. Davis' age.\"\n\n\"Okay. No oral attention for you when you're one hundred and five or however old he was.\"\n\n\"I just said we would have to be careful. Not that we had to stop completely. Now trade places with me because I want to see if you can handle my sharp tongue.\" Inner-Gabrielle hit the floor.\n\nWe finally made it to my bathroom to wash up for bed. Then we snuggled in together and I thought about how warm he always felt, like my own personal furnace.\n\n\"So what did you think of my crazy family?\"\n\n\"I love your parents. They have a great sense of humor and they seem really down-to-earth.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you like them. They like you too. I can tell.\"\n\n\"Well, that's good. Your other relatives are pretty wild but they're funny as hell.\"\n\n\"You say that now.\"\n\n\"It'll just make your dad and me closer.\"\n\n\"He always wanted a son. We should sleep now. We have a big day tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Good night baby. I'll dream about you.\"\n\n\"Me too, Braden,\" I said quietly and leaned up to kiss him goodnight.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO\n\nWe slept late, enjoyed some leisurely morning sex, showered together and made our way downstairs, where my parents had set up a nice spread with genuine New York bagels, cream cheese, veggies and fresh fruit. There was also fresh squeezed juice and the nectar of the gods, good hot coffee. After breakfast my dad took Braden out for a walk to show him some more of the neighborhood, and presumably, to get to know him better. I decided to use the opportunity to check in with Jess and find out how Marla night with Cam had gone. I got out my cell and gave her a call. She answered on the first ring. I think she had been waiting for my call.\n\n\"You are not going to believe this, Gab!\"\n\n\"Well hello to you too. The trip is going very well, thanks.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's good. Listen! You are not going to believe this!\"\n\n\"So you said. What is it I'm not going to believe?\"\n\n\"I think that maybe she's a hooker!\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"Well, technically, I guess you would call her a call girl because she met rich-looking guys at the best hotels in Philly. She went in, met them in either the lobby or the lounge, got into the elevator with them and then left again, usually about a half an hour or an hour later. She met four different guys in four different hotels.\"\n\n\"Are you sure that's what she's doing?\"\n\n\"No. Maybe she's a freelance chambermaid.\"\n\n\"Oh wow. Why would Marla be hooking if her family's rich?\" I wondered out loud.\n\n\"Maybe they cut her off.\"\n\n\"That's an interesting idea. That would make her pretty desperate to land a rich husband, wouldn't it?\"\n\n\"Maybe even desperate enough to try to scare off someone's girlfriend.\"\n\n\"Hmm. I wonder if Marla's as crazy as everyone thinks she is.\"\n\n\"We eventually followed her to a drag club called Gili's Cabaret.\"\n\n\"Wait! Gili's Cabaret? That place is supposedly associated somehow with those parties!\"\n\n\"Well, that makes sense because we saw a flyer for one in there.\"\n\n\"A flyer? They advertise underground sex parties with flyers?\"\n\n\"Hey, it's a business. They might have a Facebook page for all we know. Anyway, there is a party next weekend. And it's a costume party. You're supposed to dress up like your favorite sexual fantasy.\"\n\n\"Well, we can figure out what fantasy a naughty boy might be into.\"\n\n\"So do you think Marla, the call girl, goes to these parties?\"\n\n\"Supposedly some pros do, but I don't want to put all our eggs in one basket. I think we should still treat her as a separate mission, especially since she lives right here in the city.\"\n\n\"Okay, I hear you. I have to admit to you, Gabrielle, Cam and I have been having fun.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\"\n\n\"Yeah, this is actually kind of exciting. Should we watch her again?\"\n\n\"I guess so. Maybe we can figure out a way to leave a note for her to reply to at one of these hotels or something.\"\n\n\"We're on it,\" she said, and hung up.\n\nMy mom and I sat down to talk for a little while and she made it clear in no uncertain terms that she and my dad approved of Braden. Dad and Braden got home about a half an hour later and they seemed to be happily bonding. All was well at the Ginsberg residence. Then my dad went to check the mail.\n\n\"Gabby! Come here, honey!\" he called out in a weird tone of voice. Braden and I glanced at each other and went to meet him in the entranceway. I saw that my dad was holding a letter of some sort.\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked warily.\n\n\"It's a letter for you, but there's no return address and no postage.\"\n\n\"Can I see that?\" Braden asked.\n\n\"Sure.\" Dad held it out to Braden.\n\n\"You hold on to it and tear it open carefully. I'll come over and look over your shoulder. If it's something suspicious we don't want too many sets of fingerprints on it,\" said Braden, the prosecutor. My dad did exactly what Braden asked. My mind was racing. Maybe it was some kind of marketing gimmick. When I got closer my hopes were dashed as I saw that the handwriting was familiar. It said, **_\"You should stay away from him! Something very bad could happen if you don't!\"_**\n\n\"What the hell?!\" my father exclaimed.\n\n\"What's going on?\" my mom asked, coming in from the kitchen.\n\n\"Gabby got a threatening letter!\"\n\n\"From who?!\"\n\n\"It's not signed and there's no return address.\"\n\n\"Oh my God!\"\n\n\"Mom! Don't worry! It's probably some kind of a stupid joke.\"\n\n\"Threatening someone is funny?\"\n\n\"It may not even be meant as a threat. It's completely ambiguous. You can't tell if they're trying to warn me off because they like me, or trying to warn me off because they don't.\"\n\n\"The fact that there's no stamp means it obviously didn't come with the rest of the post. It must have been hand delivered,\" Braden added, making even me a little weirded out. If this had been a movie, lightning would have streaked across the sky and thunder would have boomed just as he said that.\n\n\"Who even knew you were here?\" my dad asked.\n\n\"Just our closest friends and Braden's family. Nobody else and I'm sure that none of them would play this kind of joke.\" I told myself firmly that it couldn't be Cam.\n\n\"We need to report this to the police,\" Braden said, sounding authoritative.\n\n\"Yes! Of course!\" my father agreed. \"Maybe the FBI too. If someone followed her here they crossed state lines.\"\n\n\"Let's not go crazy here, J. Edgar,\" I said, rapidly feeling like this situation was getting out of control. After all, it wasn't a death threat – at least not an explicit one. Maybe my job had made me a little numb to crime but this just didn't feel all that serious to me.\n\n\"Gabby, this sounds threatening to me and I would rather be safe than sorry,\" my mom, who had come over to read the letter, chimed in.\n\n\"I agree,\" Braden added.\n\n\"That makes three of us,\" my dad said. \"You're outvoted. We're going to report it to the police and to the FBI. We're also going to need to take precautions. We have an excellent, state of the art alarm system here. Gabby, you're going to need something like that too.\"\n\n\"I live in a secure building,\" I reminded him.\n\n\"It couldn't hurt. I'm buying you a dog too.\"\n\n\"Dad, I don't need a dog. I don't even know if I'm allowed to have a dog in my building.\"\n\n\"I'll get her a dog,\" Braden assured him.\n\n\"Thank you, Braden,\" he said gratefully, patting him on the back affectionately.\n\n\"Oh my God.\" I rolled my eyes.\n\n\"Of course you know that we want you two to stay together no matter what this crazy person says,\" my mom said, looking almost imploringly at Braden.\n\n\"Mom, we're not breaking up because of some stupid letter!\"\n\n\"If anything, we feel like she's safer with you, Braden. If you had been dating longer I would suggest you move in together,\" my dad said with a sigh.\n\n\"You sure you didn't send this?\" I asked dryly.\n\n\"That's not funny, Gabrielle,\" my mom chastised. She was \"Gabrielling\" me. Ma was stressed.\n\n\"Maybe you should spend more time at my place,\" Braden suggested.\n\n\"Should I bring my dog?\" I asked with a smile.\n\n\"Alright, I'm going to go call Lou,\" my father announced.\n\n\"Why are you calling your lawyer? Do you need investment advice?\"\n\n\"I just feel like he should be in on this. Maybe he knows some cops.\"\n\n\"Dad, he's a corporate lawyer. Braden here is a prosecutor. Don't you think he might get a little further?\"\n\n\"Good point. Braden, let's go into the study and make some calls.\"\n\n\"Okay, Ben. I'm going to call some people in Philly too and have them coordinate with New York.\"\n\n\"Good idea.\"\n\nBen and Braden were on it. I went off to find the crossword puzzle. I'll be honest, I did find it very annoying and maybe a little unnerving that someone had gone through the trouble to schlep an hour and a half from Philly to New York, but I still thought it was probably one of those three losers and I couldn't see any of them being all that dangerous.\n\nAn hour later an NYPD detective and an FBI special agent were sitting in my parents' parlor. I couldn't believe that the FBI actually sent somebody. I suspected it had more to do with the fact that Braden was the son of a senator than the possibility that some schmuck had crossed state lines to harass a public defender.\n\nI answered all of their questions but I was careful about what I said. I stressed the fact that it was very ambiguous and said that for that reason I really didn't know who it could be. I simply wasn't ready to start accusing people just based on guesswork and without any evidence. Maybe I had been a defense lawyer for too long. Mostly, I just didn't want Braden or I getting in hot water if it turned out I accused an innocent person. After a couple hours of my life that I'll never get back, the law enforcement type people left.\n\n\"So, where are we going for dinner?\" I asked.\n\n\"We'll eat in,\" my mom announced, heading toward the drawer with the take-out menus.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I just think it's best if we stay in, sweetheart.\" She took out a stack the size of War and Peace.\n\n\"All night? No Shakespeare in the park?\" I knew that I was whining, but come on!\n\n\"Honey,\" my dad chimed in. \"Let's just stay home and relax. Come on, we'll watch a movie. We still have to show Braden your baby pictures anyway.\"\n\n\"You're going let some cowardly letter writer make you lock yourself in the house?\"\n\n\"Gabrielle, I came to spend time with your parents anyway. We can have a nice time just staying in,\" Braden said. They were all against me. I knew there was no winning this. I went over and sat down rather ungracefully on the sofa.\n\n\"Okay, fine, but order really good food and let's watch Manhattan or something. I want Braden to have some kind of New York experience beyond bagels and Bubbe.\"\n\nWe ended up having Indian delivered and watching Sex and the City: The Movie, which I had obviously already seen, but as far as I was concerned, one could never get enough Sex and the City. After the movie, my mom and dad flanked Braden on either side and showed him every embarrassing picture of me they could find. If I was doing something incredibly awkward, had a really bad haircut or was wearing amazingly ugly clothes (or no clothes) it had been captured and preserved. The best ones were where all of the above applied, like at that damned birthday party.\n\nEventually Braden and I turned in and I had come up with something else that I had never offered but that I suspected would be a big hit. I locked my bedroom door again.\n\n\"Come over here and get naked with me in bed,\" I said without preamble.\n\n\"I love it when you say things like that,\" he said, yanking off his shirt and tossing it onto the chair. His jeans joined it seconds later. He wasn't one to waste time. I pulled off my own clothing and went to sit back against the pillows. He crawled onto the bed with me and the Harvard endowment was already looking very interested in finding out what I had in mind.\n\n\"You know I thought of something else I could do for you.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" His voice was already starting to sound thick.\n\n\"You may have noticed that my body has changed a bit since my naked birthday party days.\" His eyes flew to my chest and I saw him start breathing faster. Slowly he looked back up into my eyes, a silent question hanging in the air. \"Come over here, Harvard,\" I said throatily.\n\nHe looked so incredibly happy as he knelt over me and as I rubbed some of his favorite parts of my body against one of my favorite parts of his. His eyes were looking dazed, he was breathing hard and it was easy to see that he had fantasized about this one a few times already. Finally I pushed my breasts together tightly and he began thrusting, groaning continuously, his eyes fixed on the sight of his cock sliding between them. Here's a hint for you; for a boob man, this one is a real winner.\n\n\"Oh baby, so hot.\" His voice was strained and I knew he was close. \"These are mine. Nobody else gets to play with them.\" He panted.\n\n\"That's right, baby. Nobody else gets to play with my toys either.\"\n\n\"No,\" he groaned. \"Don't want anyone else. Only you.\"\n\n\"Come on baby. Come for me,\" I urged and it put him over the edge. For a boob man, the finale of this particular event is apparently almost enough to bring tears to the eyes. He collapsed onto his back groaning and panting ecstatically.\n\nSince we seemed to have established a theme, when he had caught his breath and some blood had returned to his brain, he decided to devote concerted efforts to seeing if he could give me a happy ending just by paying my breasts a great deal of oral and manual attention. The answer, incidentally, was that he could. He found the effort so much fun that he was ready to go for round two afterward, and we explored a couple of different positions that allowed him easy access to his toys. This little Sex _in_ the City party went on for a couple of hours, until we had tired each other out to the point of exhaustion. Have I mentioned that Braden and I had a very good sex life?\n\nIt kept getting better and better too. We had learned a lot more about how and where each other liked to be touched which was one of the big perks to familiarity. I found that getting him all worked up was about the most empowering, flat-out most arousing thing I had ever experienced. I loved how his eyes got darker when he wanted me. I loved the look on his face when he slid inside me. I loved the hot sexy things he said to me when our bodies were moving together, and I loved the way that he groaned and said my name when he came. I also loved how afterward, we always laid in bed snuggled up and talking.\n\n\"I'm sorry that we didn't get to do all that fun stuff we had planned,\" I said.\n\n\"I had a great time. Given, I would have preferred that you hadn't gotten a harassing letter, and we didn't have to speak to the police and the FBI for a couple of hours, but the rest of the time was fun.\"\n\n\"I'm just not all that worried, Braden. I do think it is just somebody harassing me. I know it's weird that I got this letter in New York, but we're only an hour and a half from Philly. It's not like an arduous journey to get here, you know? And maybe they were just afraid somebody in Philly would recognize them or that it would be traced back to them somehow.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I thought of that too. Hopefully, it's just an isolated incident, but I would feel better if you would spend a couple nights during the week at my place and let come home with you some nights too.\"\n\n\"I'm fine with getting to sleep with you more often.\"\n\n\"Maybe I should cancel the Pittsburgh trip.\" I immediately got nervous, but I forced myself to relax. I needed him out of town.\n\n\"You have to go, Braden. It's important. Jess will be with me and Cam is around too.\"\n\n\"Then I'm going to ask Mark to hang out with you too. There's safety in numbers.\" Great. I knew that when Braden made up his mind, he made up his mind. I had a feeling that we might be gaining a new team member and that I might have to steal Mark's cell phone so that he wouldn't be on it calling Braden within seconds of hearing my plan.\n\n\"You should come to game night tomorrow and stay over at my place.\"\n\n\"Okay. You know, I think that I'm really starting to understand the complexities of baseball. There's more to it than one would think. Are you laughing?\"\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE\n\nThe next morning I was able to convince my parents that it was probably safe to leave the house. We went out for breakfast and a walk in the park, although they made a big deal about staying \"on the paths\" (like I was planning to go for a jaunt through the woods.) I was very happy that at least we got to do something nice. At noon Braden and I got ready to leave. We hugged my parents and they promised to visit Philly soon. Then my dad reminded Braden of his promise to buy me a dog. Inner-Gabrielle beat her head against the wall a few times.\n\nWe were back in Philly by three and he said he would come over at six-thirty to get me because, God forbid I walk two blocks in daylight by myself. I walked into my apartment to find both Jess and Cameron waiting for me.\n\n\"So, you're not going to believe this,\" I said.\n\n\"You have a \"you're not going to believe this\" too?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yeah. I got another note when I was in New York, with the same handwriting. It pretty much said the same thing as the first one.\"\n\n\"In New York?\" Cam asked, sounding surprised. \"How did anybody know you were even there?\"\n\n\"Either they followed us or they heard it somewhere.\"\n\n\"Did your parents and Braden find out this time?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"Yes, and it has been duly reported to the NYPD and the FBI.\"\n\n\"The FBI?\" Jess asked, sounding understandably surprised.\n\n\"Crossing state lines.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She didn't look convinced. I didn't blame her.\n\n\"And a senator's son called them.\"\n\n\"So they know about the first one now too?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" They both asked in unison.\n\n\"For the same reason I didn't tell them before. Just like I predicted, Braden and my dad got all protective. If I told them about the first one and my suspicions, Braden would likely have all three of those schmucks investigated. I want to do this low key.\"\n\n\"Is your dad hiring you a bodyguard?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"No, but we're getting a new handy dandy alarm system and Braden and I will be seeing more of each other. Oh, and I almost forgot! He wants Mark to hang out with us next weekend!\"\n\n\"What are we going to do about the party?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"We're going to have to get him onboard. Hopefully, we can convince him to help us and not to tell Braden. It might work out even better since Cole knows your voice too and if Marla were there she would probably recognize you even in a mask. Mark may have to be the one to go in with Jess. I think that you and I should still dress the part, though, just in case we have to get close to help them.\"\n\n\"Derek will vouch for me and the organizer knows him. Fanny Hill is a fake name by the way. Apparently it's the name of some classic erotic novel. The woman who organizes the parties prefers to remain anonymous.\"\n\n\"I can't imagine why,\" Jess said dryly. \"Derek won't say anything about the fact that I'm not really married and he won't be there so it doesn't matter if Mark goes in my place. We just have to pay the fee.\"\n\n\"How much is it?\" I asked.\n\n\"Three hundred bucks. It would have been more if I'd have wanted to use the house services, if you know what I mean. Supposedly Fanny Hill provides professional company for guests willing to pay extra. I don't think that's common knowledge, though, even in the community.\"\n\n\"Fanny Hill — even if it is the name of an erotic novel that's still a stupid-sounding pseudonym. She couldn't come up with anything better than that?\" Jess commented.\n\n\"What, like the Merry Madame?\" I joked. \"Don't worry about the fee, by the way. It's on me. Don't say I never gave you anything. What else did you find out about this party?\"\n\n\"Jess told you that next week is a full costume party?'\n\n\"Yeah. If Jess is going to treat Cole like a bad little boy we should get some stern-looking school teacher clothes. Maybe you and Mark can dress up like school boys or something.\"\n\n\"Great,\" Cam said without much enthusiasm.\n\n\"What? You would have rather been a pirate?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\" He smiled. \"Would you be a wench?\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter what we are, actually, since we're just dressing up in case something goes wrong and we have to try to get in or at least blend in outside this place. I should probably pick out something dominatrix-like too though.\"\n\n\"Anyway,\" he continued, \"I set up a special e-mail account and I'll get the location of the party and a code that morning. That night we'll show up at nine and they give the doorman the code. They go in and from there it's just like a cocktail party except that there are rooms where people have sex and do kinky things publicly and there are other rooms where they can do them privately if they prefer. He said that we could expect to see about twenty people there.\"\n\n\"What if Cole's with somebody?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"Then you'll have to distract her. Maybe Mark...\"\n\n\"Could solicit a prostitute?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"They're not all professionals.\"\n\n\"Right. Maybe he could just publicly screw an amateur.\"\n\n\"Okay. Maybe not. We'll play it by ear.\"\n\n\"Speaking of prostitutes, what are we doing to get Marla's sample?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"Well, if her parents cut her off and she needs money she would probably be just as happy for a chance with you, Cam. You could go to her place and distract her, and Jess and I could sneak in and try to find something with her writing on.\"\n\n\"Um, Gab?\"\n\n\"Yes, Jess?\"\n\n\"When you say, \"sneak in\" do you just mean trespass or actual breaking and entering? And when you say, \"find something,\" are you talking more like theft or receiving stolen property? Just asking.\"\n\n\"Okay, technically, this may sound kind of illegal.\"\n\n\"Cameron, let me just turn this into a teaching moment. When Gabrielle says something sounds 'technically kind of illegal,' that's the same thing as 'illegal'.\"\n\n\"Okay. I have another idea then. Anything that's thrown away is considered abandoned property. If she puts her trash out on the curb then it's not on her private property and we're not trespassing or stealing.\"\n\n\"You want us to dig through Marla's trash?\" Cam asked, making a disgusted face.\n\n\"Fine. I'll dig through her trash. You act as lookouts. In fact, maybe we should just take her trash with us to a safer location.\"\n\n\"I'm not driving that night,\" he replied.\n\n\"Jess can drive.\"\n\n\"Only if we take your car, honey.\"\n\n\"I have a Mini Cooper.\"\n\n\"How much trash can she have?\"\n\n\"Okay,\" I said, reminding myself that they were doing me a favor. \"We'll take my car. You'll drive. Cam can act as lookout and I'll dig through the trash. If it seems unsafe to do so at that location I'll take her trash. Does that work for everyone?\" They both agreed and I hopped on the computer to check on trash pick-up times in Marla's neighborhood.\n\n\"I think we should shoot for tomorrow night. We can go as soon as it gets dark and move fast. Hopefully, it won't take more than an hour. And if we don't get anything, then I'll just have to think of something else.\"\n\n\"We haven't even thought about Mrs. Mason.\"\n\n\"I know. I'll have to give it some more thought.\"\n\n\"So, do we get tonight off?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"Sure, did you have plans?\"\n\n\"No, how about you?\"\n\n\"Braden wants me to come to game night with Mark and Adam again at his place.\"\n\n\"Oh, are they watching the Phillies?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"I guess. Do you guys want to come?\"\n\n\"Sure!\" Cam said enthusiastically.\n\n\"Sure,\" Jess said, unenthusiastically.\n\nAt about six-fifteen Braden called up from the lobby and I buzzed him up. I went over to open the door when I heard him ring. He was standing in the hall with an adorable smile and I couldn't help being charmed and smiling back. Then I heard it. A yip. I looked down. Way down.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR\n\n\"What in the hell is that?\"\n\n\"This is Bruno.\"\n\n\"Bruno? Braden, that's a Chihuahua. Naming him Bruno won't make him a bigger dog.\"\n\n\"That was the name he came with.\"\n\n\"And whose dog is this, Braden?\"\n\n\"Bruno,\" he said, addressing the dog. \"This is mommy.\"\n\n\"Mommy? Braden, this isn't a baby. This is a dog. A very small dog.\"\n\n\"Your building had strict size requirements.\"\n\n\"And what do you think that Bruno would do if I were attacked? Trip the guy?\"\n\n\"He would bark and alert people that you were in distress.\"\n\n\"He would bark and alert people that there was an annoying little yippy dog around and they should head the other way.\"\n\n\"Don't worry,\" he said, addressing Bruno. \"Daddy will convince her.\"\n\n\"Daddy? We're the parents of a Chihuahua?\"\n\n\"You never know what the future holds. It would be good practice.\"\n\n\"For when we had puppies?\"\n\n\"Can we come in?\" I stepped aside. Braden took Bruno off of his leash and he promptly checked the place out and made it his own by peeing on a rubber tree plant. Bruno, not Braden.\n\n\"Hey!\" Jess exclaimed. \"Here, doggy!\"\n\n\"He answers to Bruno,\" I explained.\n\n\"Bruno?\" She looked confused.\n\n\"Apparently Braden and I have a Chihuahua together.\"\n\n\"I hope he has primary custody,\" she said, following Bruno as he headed toward her room. \"Wait, doggy. Don't go in there!\"\n\n\"Hello, Cameron,\" Braden said.\n\n\"Hello, Braden. Nice dog. And, um, why?\"\n\n\"She needs protection. Didn't she tell you about the letter?\"\n\n\"A Chihuahua?\"\n\n\"I promised her father I would get her a dog and her building doesn't allow pets over twenty lbs. Do you know how small that is? Bruno can bark as well as a big dog can. He'll alert people.\"\n\n\"Who's going to take care of Bruno when I'm at work? He'll be all alone. And I'll have to walk him in the evenings. He'll have to wait all day to pee.\" I glanced at the plant. \"He'd better wait.\"\n\n\"I arranged for doggy day care,\" he answered.\n\n\"Doggy day care? Are you serious?\"\n\n\"There's a place right on the way to work. You can drop him off in the morning and pick him up on the way home. He'll have other dogs to play with and the people there will walk him.\"\n\n\"Did you check these people out? I mean are they a good place? The bigger dogs wouldn't pick on him, would they?\" I couldn't help it. I'm a Jewish mother.\n\n\"More importantly, can they get him into the right colleges?\" Cam added. Braden and I gave him an unamused look.\n\n\"I checked them out. They have a good reputation.\"\n\n\"Well, okay, I guess. You're going to help me take care of him, though, right? It's not going to be 'go ask mommy' whenever he wants something?\"\n\n\"Mommy?\" Jess asked, returning with Bruno tucked under her arm and one of her slippers in his mouth.\n\n\"And are you Daddy?\" Cam asked Braden with a smile.\n\n\"Of course he is! What are you implying?\" I asked indignantly. Jess and Cam gave each other a look that clearly said they thought Braden and I had gone round the bend.\n\n\"So, can you convince baby Bruno here to let go of my slipper?\"\n\n\"Here,\" Braden said, digging around in his pocket. He held out a milk bone. And I had thought he was just happy to see me. \"Bruno! Daddy has a bone for you.\"\n\n\"Does that work with you too, Gab?\" Jess asked with a laugh.\n\n\"Very funny,\" I replied. Bruno promptly dropped the slipper and Jess set him down so that he could go get his treat. He looked up at Braden adoringly. He was a daddy's boy.\n\n\"Okay, Gabrielle, we should get going.\" He paused. \"Do you two want to come along?\"\n\n\"Yeah, sure!\" Cam said with a smile.\n\n\"What the hell,\" Jess said.\n\nI grabbed my suit-bag and we all headed for Braden's place with Bruno in the lead on his stylish leash. I had a feeling that I would find all kinds of designer doggie gear at Braden's place.\n\n* * *\n\nI was right. I discovered that Bruno had his own leather and suede plush doggie bed, a marble bowl with his name carved into it, and enough toys to fill his own play room. How had Braden managed this in three hours? Jess and Cam made themselves comfortable in front of the TV as Braden went to assure himself that Bruno had enough water, just in case it had evaporated in the half hour since I was certain he last checked it. A few minutes later Mark and Adam rang up from the lobby and were at the door, six packs of beer in hand.\n\n\"Wow, the gang's all here,\" Mark said as Jess and Cam called out their greetings. Just then I heard the rapidly approaching \"clickity click\" of tiny nails on hardwood floors accompanied by the \"yipping\" that only a tiny dog can emit. Bruno had been alerted to the presence of intruders. He came full throttle, stopped short and skidded to a stop at Adam's feet, barking his little Chihuahua ass off.\n\n\"Bruno! Stop! Down! Heel! Shut up!\" I tried.\n\n\"Quiet Bruno!\" Braden said and Bruno immediately stopped barking and sat down.\n\n\"Bruno?\" Adam asked. I had a feeling that would be a common reaction.\n\n\"Is that supposed to be a dog?\" Mark asked.\n\n\"He stopped you, didn't he?\" Braden asked.\n\n\"I was afraid I might step on him,\" Mark replied.\n\n\"Is this your dog?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"I got him for Gabrielle, but I'm thinking that I'll help her take care of him. I've been joking around and saying that we're his mommy and daddy.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's so cute!\" Mark teased.\n\n\"I hope you insisted that this dog be raised Jewish, Gabrielle.\" Adam gave me a stern look.\n\n\"I'm okay with that. I'm getting kind of interested in Judaism. I'm thinking about taking a class,\" Braden said.\n\n\"Interested as in 'hey, that's kind of cool' or as in 'I'm thinking about becoming a Jew?\" Adam wanted to know.\n\n\"I don't know. I would have to learn more about it first. You and Gabrielle seem to like it.\"\n\n\"But we were born this way.\" I explained. \"We've been conditioned from childhood to pretend that a lamp that burned longer than it should have was as exciting as a visit from Santa Claus.\"\n\n\"I'm just thinking about taking a class to learn more. I'm not exactly a pillar of the Episcopalian church right now though. I doubt that anyone would even notice that I was gone.\"\n\n\"I think your parents might, but whatever. You want to take a class, I'm all for it,\" I said. \"In fact, you want to be Jewish? That's great too, as long as it's because you really want to be and not because you're worried about Bruno growing up conflicted.\"\n\n\"You two are the parents of a Chihuahua and Braden's talking about becoming a Jew. This is some kind of weird dream, isn't it?\" Mark asked, looking around like he expected to see something.\n\n\"Can we get out of the entryway before the beer gets warm?\" I asked impatiently. We got out of the entryway before the beer got warm. Everyone settled in and we ordered pizza. We watched a pregame show and began watching the baseball game. Bruno made his rounds, encouraging everyone present to pet and pay attention to him. Eventually he settled in on a loveseat next to Braden and me.\n\nIn was an exciting game for the most part, although the Phillies pulled ahead at the end. At the bottom of the ninth inning with our team ahead by four runs I started cleaning up. As I put things away and washed some dishes in the kitchen, I felt Braden sidle up behind me and put his arms around my waist, pulling me close. He whispered in my ear.\n\n\"I was only kidding around about the mommy and daddy thing, but I have to admit that playing house with you turns me on.\"\n\n\"I'll have to wash dishes more often, dear.\" I guess it wasn't just my shorts riding up last time.\n\n\"You know darling, we've never had kitchen sex. Perhaps I could bend you over the counter and take you from behind. I'm thinking that I'm just going to pick you up and fuck you against the wall though.\" God, I loved it when he said stuff like that.\n\nI glanced up at the living room area which was in plain view. \"The game's almost over. Our guests will be gone soon, honey bunch.\"\n\n\"As soon as that door closes I'm going to make you feel so good, sweetie pie.\" Argh! He was killing me here!\n\n\"Well, dearest, that sounds like a sound plan for the future.\" I felt myself starting to sweat and my panties got damp. The Astros struck out and the game was over within minutes. Our friends stretched and stood up. My heart started racing as they headed for the door.\n\n\"Thanks for inviting us along,\" Cam added.\n\n\"We do it every Sunday night. Come whenever you want,\" Braden said. That was definite progress.\n\n\"I guess we'll play it by ear next week?\" Mark asked.\n\n\"We'll be back in time,\" Adam said.\n\n\"But Braden might be busy making up for the loss of his Saturday night sex.\"\n\nCam offered to walk Jess home and we said our goodnights as everyone left, shutting the door behind them.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE\n\nBraden turned to me with his hot look and I was up against the wall in seconds with his mouth on mine, his tongue exploring possessively. His hand traveled up under my shirt and into my bra where he gently squeezed my nipple and cupped my breast. Then the other hand traveled under my skirt and into my panties, where he began stroking me.\n\n\"Mm. My baby's ready for me,\" he said with satisfaction.\n\n\"You gave me advance notice,\" I answered breathily.\n\nHe pushed my skirt up and my panties down. I slid them off as he freed himself and then he lifted me up and pushed into me as I wrapped my legs around him and gasped with pleasure. With my back braced against the wall he thrust into me deeply over and over and I started moaning deliriously. Through a lust-filled haze I suddenly heard a foreign sound. It sounded like... yipping. Oh no!\n\n\"No, no Bruno,\" I panted. \"Daddy's not hurting mommy. Daddy's making mommy feel _so_ good! Oh baby, so good!\" Bruno didn't let up, though. If anything, the yipping got louder and he started running from one side of Braden's legs to the other.\n\n\"Quiet, Bruno!\" Braden tried, sounding desperate, as I pushed my hips hard against him and squeezed my inner muscles tight. \"Oh fuck, yes!\" he groaned loudly. Bruno kept yipping louder and louder. \"Bruno! Quiet! Daddy wants to enjoy this.\" He started moving his hips faster.\n\n\"Yes! Like that!\" I cried and he started pounding into me.\n\n\"Tell me how much you love it baby,\" he grunted as Bruno kept yipping.\n\n\"So much! I love it so much! It feels so good!\" I moaned and Bruno started jumping.\n\n\"Who's fucking you Gabrielle? I want to hear you say it!\" The yipping was unrelenting and now Bruno was running in circles.\n\n\"Oh Braden! Braden! Only you!\"\n\n\"You're mine, Gabrielle,\" he bit out, and then Bruno started doing something that transcended annoying and moved into the realm of the really weird, and not just a little disturbing. He grabbed on to Braden's leg and started pumping.\n\n\"Bruno! Jesus! Stop that!\" Braden bit out, sounding distracted as he shook his leg, trying to get Bruno to let go.\n\n\"Why is he doing that?\" I gasped, confused.\n\n\"I'm pretty sure he thinks this is a game.\"\n\n\"Only mommy and daddy get to play, Bruno!\" I pleaded.\n\nBraden took a deep breath and lowered me to the floor. He pulled my skirt back down and closed his pants over his erection. Bruno let go and looked up at him quizzically like he couldn't figure out why we had stopped playing the humping game just when it was getting good. Braden gave him an exasperated look and grabbed my hand and his keys. \"Let's go.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"To the roof garden.\"\n\n\"The roof garden?! _We're_ leaving?!\"\n\n\"Nobody else is ever up there and it's a nice night.\"\n\nWe took the stairs and when we got there Braden found a dark spot and once again lifted me up and braced me against a wall. The city lights sparkled in the distance. I felt him slide into me again and start moving more slowly. He buried his mouth against my neck and pushed into me deeply while I moaned and ran my hands up and down his back. Without any further distractions it wasn't long before I felt myself get to where I needed to be. Braden sensed it and started talking to me again. This time, though, he didn't talk dirty to me. The things he said were romantic instead and they turned me on just as much.\n\n\"Gabrielle, you're so beautiful. And sweet. And sexy. It's never felt like this before. I want to lose myself in you. I want to be inside you forever.\"\n\n\"Braden, I need you so much.\" I felt myself slip over and fall into oblivion and then a couple of minutes later he let go and joined me. We held on to each other tightly as sensation and release washed over us and then we stood there panting with our foreheads pressed together.\n\n\"Braden,\" I said after a few minutes, \"are we going to have to have sex on the roof from now on?\"\n\n\"No, baby. We're going to have sex in the bedroom and Bruno is going to wait in the living room. I just had to get out of there.\"\n\n\"Okay. Just asking. I figured it might get cold eventually.\" We headed back downstairs where Bruno met us at the door and gave us a dirty look. He was obviously deeply offended that we were not willing to involve him in our sex life.\n\n* * *\n\nI told Braden that I had to help Jess with something the next night. That was technically true. He said that he would watch Bruno and invite Adam and Mark over to play cards and hang out again. He still wanted to spend the night together, though, so I told him that he should come by and pick me up at ten and that I would go back to his place with him. I knew that I was cutting it close but I didn't want to act suspiciously by being out late on a night before court. Besides, how much garbage could she have anyway? So the next night Bruno was off at Daddy's place when Jess and Cam and I piled into my Mini Cooper at eight-thirty and headed for Marla's townhouse. We parked down the street and strolled casually toward her address. When we were in front of it though, we encountered a little problem. The homes were narrow and attached and there were a whole bunch of garbage cans standing together. You couldn't tell which one belonged to which house. _Shit!_\n\n\"Okay, okay, think, Gabrielle,\" I said to myself as I put my hands on my hips and paced. \"She's a single woman, so if we see guy trash it's probably not hers.\"\n\n\"Guy trash?\" Jess asked dubiously.\n\n\"You know, stuff that a guy has that women doesn't.\"\n\n\"A penis?\" Jess shook her head in bewilderment.\n\n\"Cam, what kind of stuff would a guy have that a woman probably wouldn't?\"\n\n\"Uh, Playboy, Penthouse, cigars, Scotch. Actually, if you find that stuff let me know. I think I want to hang out with that guy.\"\n\n\"Well, what kind of stuff would a woman have that a guy wouldn't?\" I was getting desperate.\n\n\"Tampons!\" Jess yelled and clapped her hands like she was on Family Feud.\n\n\"Will you be quiet?\" I hissed. \"The point is we can figure out within maybe five cans which one is hers. It looks like there's an alley over there and there are street lights. I say we carry the cans back there and figure out which one it is.\"\n\n\"Okay, good luck with that. I'm the lookout, remember?\" Cam said, walking away.\n\n\"I'm the driver,\" Jess chimed in.\n\n\"And I'm the trash picker. Yes, I recall the conversation, but I need your help carrying it back there.\" They sighed and both of them went over and picked up a can and hauled it back to the alley. I picked one up too and we soon had five cans back there. We had placed them directly under a street light and I opened the lid and started going through the first can. I was leaning into it covered in garbage myself when Jess finally broke.\n\n\"Oh Jesus, honey! I can't watch you do this anymore. Move over!\" She started going through a second can. I saw Cam squirm.\n\n\"I'm not going to do this.\"\n\n\"So, don't. You're the lookout,\" I reminded him.\n\n\"I'm serious. I'm really not picking through trash.\"\n\n\"Ew! Is that a condom?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"Ah man!\" Cam made a face and kicked the base of the street light. \"It's like I can _hear_ my mother saying 'a gentleman picks through trash _for_ a lady, Cameron',\" he grumbled. \"Move over!\" He stormed over and ripped the lid off a third can. \"I don't know if we're going to find anything we can use,\" he said, and suddenly a voice called out.\n\n\"Cameron? Is that you?\" Cam froze. Three male shadows approached. \"It's Bob – Bob Lewis.\"\n\n\"Bob! How are you?\" Cam stood up as a well-dressed middle-aged man and his two companions approached.\n\n\"Phil, Jack, this is Cameron Clay from Findlay Clay. He's my financial planner. I trust him with all of my most important money decisions.\"\n\n\"Uh, I would shake your hands but...\" Cam was fighting hard to maintain his dignity. Maybe he would make a good public defender yet.\n\n\"What are you doing here, Cameron?\" Bob asked, seemingly noticing for the first time that his financial planner, the man he trusted with all of his most important money decisions, was at the moment picking through a garbage can.\n\n\"Um...\"\n\n\"I know!\" Jack said with a chuckle.\n\n\"You do?\" Cam asked dubiously.\n\n\"Yes, I do. It happened to my wife just last week.\"\n\n\"It did?\"\n\n\"Her diamond ring came off in the kitchen and wound up in the garbage. We spent an hour digging through the trash before we found it. So did your girlfriend lose something valuable?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" both Jess and I said at exactly the same time. We looked at each other and then said \"she did\" at the same time too. \"You did!\" I said through gritted teeth.\n\n\"I did,\" she said. \"My uh, yearbook.\" _Huh?_ \"My high school yearbook. It must have fallen into the garbage. I'm very broken up about it.\" Jack looked confused. I didn't blame him.\n\n\"Well, uh, I hope you find it,\" he said with a nod and a smile, backing away slowly. Clearly he thought we were either nuts or on drugs. I didn't blame him for that either.\n\n\"Take care,\" Bob threw in, looking like he thought maybe he was missing something here and there really was a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. The three of them continued walking down the alley and around the block. Cam breathed a sigh of relief and then he glared at me.\n\n\"You look angry,\" I noted, taking an involuntary step back.\n\n\"Angry? Why would I be angry?\" he asked quietly. \"A multi-millionaire who trusts me to give him investment advice just caught me picking through trash and saying that we might not find anything that we could use.\"\n\nI glanced at my watch. _Shit!_ It was ten minutes to ten! \"We have to get out of here. I told Braden I would be ready to go to his place by ten.\"\n\n\"Come on!\" Jess said and headed for my car with Cam and I right behind her. We pulled into my parking garage at ten exactly. I thanked Cam again and apologized for the fiftieth time about Bob. He seemed to be over it. In fact I think he was starting to find it kind of humorous. He waved as he hopped into his own car and headed home. Jess and I sprinted up the stairs and tore into the lobby... where Braden and Adam and Mark and Bruno were patiently waiting.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX\n\nI saw their faces register confusion and then, well, disgust to be honest, and I looked down. I was covered in garbage. There were gum wrappers, used napkins, bits of tinfoil and something that I hoped was a wad of gum stuck to my clothes. I looked over at Jess and she was no better. Among other things she had a Ziploc baggie stuck in her hair and there was a banana peel melded to her shorts.\n\n\"Oh, I can't _wait_ to hear this,\" Adam said.\n\n\"I may need to take a quick shower before we go.\" Bruno began to whine and then he hid under a chair. Braden handed his leash to Mark and got up to walk over to me. When he got about two feet away, though, he halted.\n\n\"Oh, Gabrielle!\" He made a face and waved his hand to clear the air. \"Maybe not a quick one.\" Great. I smelled bad too. Jess walked over to the elevator.\n\n\"Might as well come on up and make yourselves comfortable,\" she offered.\n\n\"Uh, we'll take the stairs,\" Mark said with a grimace.\n\nTwenty minutes later I was clean again and entering the living room, where Jess was already talking to the guys.\n\n\"I was just explaining how we went out to eat and I left my wallet on the tray and it got dumped into the trash and we had to check the dumpster to find it.\" Wow, that was a lot better than 'I accidentally threw my high school yearbook away'.\n\nBruno gave a happy yip and came running up to me. Braden came over hesitantly, leaned down, nuzzled my neck and inhaled deeply. \"Mm, much better. What were you two out doing tonight anyway – besides going out to eat and digging through dumpsters?\"\n\n\"Gathering evidence for a case.\"\n\n\"What? Why were you doing that? That's what your office pays investigators for.\"\n\n\"It wasn't dangerous.\"\n\n\"Gabrielle, anything could be dangerous right now. You know that. And you wound up crawling around in a dumpster. I really don't want you doing things like that anymore.\" He didn't want me doing things like this anymore? Who was he, my dad?\n\n\"Oh? And you'll never go out to a crime scene or go out to interview a witness in the field huh?\"\n\n\"I'm a guy,\" he said, like that explained everything.\n\n\"So. Female prosecutors do it too.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but they're not my girlfriend and they're not getting harassing letters.\" He was starting to sound annoyed.\n\n\"They probably get lots of harassing letters.\"\n\n\"Okay, have I mentioned that they're not my girlfriend?\" He was definitely sounding annoyed now.\n\n\"Even before the letter, you were worrying about me going into lock-up to interview clients charged with violent crimes.\"\n\n\"Because you could get hurt and there are plenty of male public defenders who could do it.\"\n\n\"But I can do it and it's my job to do it. Next you'll be telling me that you don't want me to represent anyone charged with a violent crime in general.\" I was getting rather annoyed now too.\n\n\"Well, now that you mention it...\"\n\n\"Braden! I'm a criminal defense lawyer. I defend criminals. All kinds of criminals. Not just criminals that you approve of.\"\n\n\"Well, you can't expect me not to worry or care, Gabrielle!\"\n\n\"Are you guys arguing?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"Are we?\" I asked.\n\n\"Maybe a little but that's okay. Couples argue. We'll figure it out and we can have make-up sex later,\" Braden said, and Bruno yipped.\n\n\"Hey, I think the dog knows that word,\" Mark said, studying Bruno curiously.\n\n\"Look who his parents are,\" Adam said dryly. \"God knows what he's been exposed to. He probably needs psychoanalysis.\"\n\n\"Okay, you know it's getting late, guys and we all have court tomorrow, I'm sure,\" Jess hinted.\n\n\"Yeah, I had better be heading home. Come on Adam, I'll drop you off,\" Mark said.\n\n\"Let's go, Sherlock,\" Braden said to me. By the time we got back to his place it was eleven. He put Bruno in the bedroom and came back into the living room area, shutting off the lights. \"Look,\" he said and pulled me over to the window. I could see the city lights. The view was gorgeous.\n\n\"It's beautiful.\" I sighed.\n\n\"You're beautiful.\" He stood behind me and pulled me against his chest. \"I'm sorry if I sounded pushy. I'm feeling very protective of you and I'm not used to that. I just don't want you getting hurt.\"\n\n\"I know Braden, and believe me, I love the fact that you care so much. I care about you too. It scares me that you make enemies of dangerous people every day. It's what you do, though, just like defending them is what I do. I won't knowingly put myself in any actual danger. How's that?\"\n\n\"I guess it'll have to be good enough. Do you want to do this for the rest of your life?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Sometimes I think so and other times I don't.\"\n\n\"Do you want to have real kids someday?\" Wow, Braden was talking about kids. That was surprising to say the least.\n\n\"I think so. I'd like to be married first, though.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" he said, like that was a given. Wasn't this guy a major player a month ago? This was a rather quick metamorphosis. Something about it felt right, though, and I think he just sensed it too. \"So you really like the lights, huh?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I really do.\"\n\n\"I'll be right back,\" he said and went over to a closet. He grabbed a comforter and brought it back to where I was standing and spread it out on the floor. \"Let's make love here then,\" he said quietly. He had never called it that before. He sank down and pulled me down beside him. Then he laid me back and kissed me sweetly and softly, my lips, my cheeks, my eyelids, my jaw, my ears, my neck, my everywhere. I sighed with both contentment and arousal. He undressed me slowly and then undressed himself, holding my gaze the entire time. Then he covered me with his wonderfully warm body and sank into me as the lights sparkled in the distance. We made love, slowly and tenderly until finally we climaxed one after the other. Afterward we laid there holding each other for quite a while before heading off to bed. Bruno was asleep doing his little Chihuahua snore and I fell asleep in Braden's arms.\n\n* * *\n\nThe week went by quickly. By some miracle all of my cases were pretty normal. There were no confused fanny grabbers, geriatric pot-heads or armed robbers who worked the counter or offered to show ID. Just your typical run-of-the-mill felons. I had a few cases against Adam that week, which gave him the opportunity to catch up on teasing me about something besides my love life. Bruno took well to doggy day care, where he was reportedly quite popular. Braden and I were spending every evening together at either his place or mine. Bruno learned to accept hanging out in the living room and eventually forgave us for playing the humping game without him. His reward for being so understanding was that he got to sleep in the bedroom with us when we were done playing. In his own bed of course. He now had one at each of our apartments.\n\nUnavoidably, after spending several hours on Thursday night talking in bed and making love, Friday morning arrived. Braden and Adam were flying out to Pittsburgh to avoid a five-hour drive and they were leaving at ten, so I said goodbye to him before I left for work in the morning.\n\n\"So, you'll text me to let me know you got there okay?\"\n\n\"Right, and you'll text me to let me know that you and Bruno had a good day?\"\n\n\"Yes, and you'll call me to say goodnight?\"\n\n\"There's some kind of cocktail thing. Should I call you before or after?\"\n\n\"After. Then you can just relax. You and Adam are sharing a room?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I'll probably leave the party a little early so I can speak to you privately. In case I get mushy. Or horny. Or both.\" He kissed me and then he said goodbye to Bruno and we parted ways.\n\nI dropped Bruno off at doggy day care and made it to the office by nine. I didn't have court that day as so many prosecutors and judges would be out of town. Jess and Cam and I were all planning to take the afternoon off to go in search of costumes and finalize plans for Operation Cole. Mark would be coming by at noon the next day.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN\n\nIt took some searching but we finally found what we needed at a place called Tony's Fantasy Land. It was a little scary finding out what other people fantasized about.\n\n\"Who has fantasies about being a tampon?\" Jess asked, looking over a long white fleece tube.\n\n\"People are weird,\" I answered.\n\n\"Wasn't there a member of the royal family years ago?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"Don't talk about it. The poor man will never live that down,\" I replied.\n\n\"What in the hell is that?\" I asked.\n\n\"I believe that's a dildo, in size,\" Cam checked a label, \"men's extra-large.\"\n\n\"I think I see a pattern here,\" Jess offered.\n\n\"Newsflash, men fantasize about being inside women's vaginas,\" I said dryly.\n\n\"Oh look! A naughty nurse costume. I think I like that one,\" Cam said with a smile.\n\n\"I don't think it would fit you.\" Jess laughed.\n\n\"A nun?\" I asked.\n\n\"To a priest that might be pretty enticing,\" Cam explained.\n\n\"Hmm. Here's your pirate suit, Cam,\" I teased.\n\n\"And here's a wench costume. Which one of you wants to put it on for me?\"\n\n\"I found one! Sexy school teacher,\" Jess announced.\n\n\"Do they have two of them?\"\n\n\"No, just one, and one naughty school boy.\"\n\n\"I guess that I'll have to go for another dominatrix look,\" I said, disappointed.\n\n\"The S&M stuff is in the next room,\" Cam shared.\n\n\"You've been here before, haven't you?\" I joked.\n\n\"There's a sign over the door,\" he said defensively.\n\nFinally I found a pair of shiny rubber hot pants, (Who knew that hot pants came in rubber?) a patent leather bustier and some boots that I think that Gene Simmons from KISS once wore. It had a matching leather mask. I imagined that this was a very stylish ensemble in the BDSM world. Cam picked out some leather pants, a leather vest, leather hat and a collar. I really hoped that he didn't run into any more of his clients, dressed like that. We also grabbed a black wig for Jess and masks for them and for Mark. Ah, if Bubbe could see me now! When we got back to our place, after picking up Bruno of course, we ordered Chinese and went over the plan.\n\nWe would sit Mark down, tell him about the notes, describe the cast of characters and explain why we needed to be careful about suggesting anything without some kind of proof. Then we would outline our plan, which was fairly simple. Mark and Jess would go in as a couple. Jess would approach Cole, tell him he was a bad boy and that she wanted him to write down all of the nasty things he had done. If necessary, she would spank him with a ruler. Then they were out of there. How bad could that be, right? Yeah, I know. Those famous last words again.\n\nSince it was Friday night Cam and Jess decided to go out for a drink. I stayed in and tried to relax. Bruno happily kept me company but he seemed a little perplexed about the fact that Daddy wasn't around. He kept going to the door and sniffing around the covers on Braden's side of the bed.\n\nWow, suddenly that sunk in. Braden had a side of the bed. We had been together for a month and we were a real couple. We had survived our first argument – even if it wasn't a very big one. We had talked about the future; we had met each other's parents and we shared a dog. Although we still argued in court, still did plenty of naughty sexy things and still engaged in plenty of snarky banter, we had also developed a very natural affection with each other and we had both acknowledged that this relationship was special and that we wanted to be together for a very long time. I knew what it meant, and I wanted to tell him, but I was still kind of scared to go there. That night I watched a documentary as Bruno snuggled into his doggy bed and I waited for Braden to call.\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT\n\n\"Hey, sexy.\"\n\n\"Hey. Partying down with all the law enforcement types?\"\n\n\"Yeah. They can be a wild bunch.\"\n\n\"Are the women hitting on you?\"\n\n\"I've made it very clear that I have a girlfriend.\" So they were. It figured. \"Why? Are you jealous?\" He sounded amused.\n\n\"Of course,\" I admitted.\n\n\"Well now you know how I feel.\"\n\n\"What because a bunch of drunk MBA types tried to pick me up at O'Malley's?\"\n\n\"No, because Cameron was the first guy you were ever with.\" _Oh, that._ Suddenly, I realized that Braden hadn't only become more possessive lately because he was worried about me. He was jealous, and amazingly enough, he felt a little insecure. I wanted to reassure him. I was going to work up the nerve to say \"those words\" soon.\n\n\"That was years ago and it was only one time. I didn't even have a happy ending — in any way.\"\n\n\"You didn't?\"\n\n\"No, I had no idea what I was doing and it was slightly uncomfortable. Besides, Cameron and I were both beer buzzed. It was very much a college hook-up, nothing at all like what you and I have together. I've told you before, you're the best partner I've ever had. You're the first guy who can get me there just by being inside me.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah, and not only that, but I've never had more than one happy ending in a night and I've had up to six with you.\"\n\n\"Seven,\" he corrected.\n\n\"You counted?\"\n\n\"I just happened to notice.\"\n\n\"It's not just your technical skills. You and I always seem to be in sync.\"\n\n\"Well, while I will admit that does kind of make me feel better, I wasn't just talking about sex, Gabrielle. Obviously you must have cared about him or you wouldn't have slept with him, whether you were beer buzzed or not, not the first time.\"\n\n\"He was my friend and I was infatuated with him. I was eighteen years old.\"\n\n\"Now you're both grown up and he's your friend and he works with you every day. What if you start to feel something for him again?\"\n\n\"Braden, eight years ago I had a crush on a cute boy. Now I have much deeper feelings for an incredibly sexy man – and just for the record, I mean you, not Cam.\"\n\n\"Well, that's good to hear because I don't want to lose you.\"\n\n\"You're not going to. I'll be with you as long as you can put up with me.\"\n\n\"I'm never going to stop wanting you, Gabrielle.\" This conversation was getting very intense. As if on cue, I heard a voice in the background.\n\n\"Hey Braden! Are you done with your phone sex yet?\"\n\n\"You can come in!\" Braden called out. I thought I heard a door close. \"I didn't expect to see you back here tonight.\"\n\n\"I gotta sleep, man. Besides, I couldn't remember her name and it felt kind of awkward after she gave me such a great...\"\n\n\"Still on the phone here, dude,\" Braden interrupted.\n\n\"You're still on the fucking phone? You just saw her this morning. You might as well just hand her your balls right now.\" Then in a louder voice he called out, \"Hi Gabrielle!\"\n\n\"Please tell Adam that I said hello and that I can hear him even when he's not shouting.\"\n\n\"She said hello and she can hear everything you're saying.\"\n\n\"Terrific. So your girlfriend knows that I'm a dick.\"\n\n\"She knew that that already,\" Braden replied.\n\n\"Did you tell her you missed her?\"\n\n\"I think I got this, Adam.\"\n\n\"Did you tell you love her?\"\n\n\"I really don't need your help here.\"\n\n\"Ah, Braden's in love,\" Adam teased. \"All the women at the G Lounge are probably crying into their vodka.\"\n\n\"Will you please go occupy yourself somehow? Take a shower, brush your teeth, study the Crimes Code. Just leave me alone for a minute so I can say goodnight to my girlfriend.\"\n\n\"Goodnight Gabrielle!\" Adam called out.\n\n\"I'm sorry about that,\" Braden apologized.\n\n\"Don't worry about it. I'm not dating him. Listen, I'm going out with Jess, Cam and Mark tomorrow night. I'm not sure what time I'll be home.\"\n\n\"Call me no matter what time. And text me or call whenever you want during the day. I might even be able to wrap up early tomorrow. If I can maybe I'll switch to an earlier flight.\"\n\n\"Okay, I will.\"\n\n\"I should say goodnight while he's still in the bathroom, because I do really want to tell you that I miss you.\" He hesitated for a second. \"And that I love you.\" Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. He said it! Calm, Gabrielle. My heart started hammering. I wanted so much to be with him at that moment.\n\n\"I miss you and I love you too.\" My voice shook a little because the emotions I was experiencing were so powerful that they almost overwhelmed me. \"So much.\"\n\n\"Goodnight, baby.\"\n\n\"Goodnight. Sweet dreams\n\n* * *\n\nThe next day at noon Mark sat in our living room listening while I laid out the whole story. I told him about the notes, the suspects, and our efforts thus far to collect evidence. Then I laid out the plan. Finally, I paused and Mark spoke up.\n\n\"So, let me get this straight. You met three obnoxious people at Braden's fundraiser, and when you got a couple of anonymous notes saying that you should break up with him, or something bad might happen, you assumed that one of those three wrote them.\"\n\n\"Because while each one of them had an interest in seeing us break up, nobody else did, and it wasn't common knowledge that we were dating then.\"\n\n\"So, instead of just telling the cops, and letting them handle it, you decided instead to try to get handwriting samples yourself, because you were worried that there would be a backlash if you said you suspected one of these people.\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"And in pursuit of that evidence you convinced Fred and Ethel here to follow private citizens and dig through garbage with you.\" He glanced at Jess and Cam like he wondered just what in the hell was wrong with them.\n\n\"Well, yeah. You know I'm mostly doing this because I don't want Braden or my parents to worry anymore, right?\"\n\n\"Uh huh. And now you want _me_ to wear a costume and go to an underground sex party with you so that Jess can dominate some kinky politician into giving her a sample of his handwriting.\"\n\n\"It's for a good cause.\"\n\n\"And you think that one of my closest friends, who also happens to be your boyfriend, is going to think that there's nothing wrong with this plan?\"\n\n\"I'm not going there to have sex with anybody! I'm not even going in. I think this guy will actually do this if Jess even just orders him to. As soon as she gets the writing we're gone. I send it to my expert, he either eliminates Cole or gives me ammunition to tell him to leave me the hell alone. This is a way to possibly get someone to stop harassing me without dragging Braden or his family into it.\"\n\n\"Don't even try to make this sound reasonable, Gabrielle. I can't believe that you didn't tell Braden about the first note.\"\n\n\"Mark, I don't want him to get himself into a difficult position. If I just had a little something to back up my suspicions it would be a whole different story. Don't you understand? I'm doing this because I care about him. I don't want him worrying about me all the time and I want people to leave us alone without getting him sued.\"\n\n\"What if we get this sample and it's not this guy. What then?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I'm not sure I'm up to digging through trash again. I think I'll just give it this one try. He's the one who it would be most controversial to wrongly accuse anyway. If it isn't him I'll just probably turn everything over to the cops and let them deal with it.\"\n\n\"And you're going to tell Braden about all of this?\"\n\n\"Yes – I will.\"\n\n\"I still don't think that he's going to be okay with you doing this.\"\n\n\"I can't just make Jess do this herself.\"\n\n\"Okay look, I'll go along with this under one condition. Even though you may be dressed up to blend in you stay back unless absolutely necessary. I don't want you anywhere near this place unless we have no other choice. We can stay in communication with each other by cell.\"\n\n\"Okay, it's a deal. We'll park a few blocks away and we'll stay in the car unless you need us.\"\n\n# CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE\n\nThat night at eight forty-five, we were all dressed in our best fantasy wear from Tony's. Jess and Mark made quite a pair. She was wearing a skin-tight skirt that came down to her ankles but was slit up the back almost to her bottom. She had on a high-necked old-fashioned-looking ruffled blouse like a Victorian school teacher might wear, fishnets, boots with high heels, a black wig and a Mardi Gras-type mask. She was carrying a ruler and she had some folded paper and a pen stuck into a garter. Mark also wore a mask but his was plainer – sort of Lone Ranger-esque. He was dressed like an English school boy in a striped tie, knee socks, matching shorts, blazer and cap. He looked like that guy Angus Young from the band ACDC. Cam and I just looked kinky.\n\nWe arrived near the location of the party, an abandoned warehouse down by the docks. It was a rough neighborhood, so I was armed with pepper spray. We took my car and parked it several blocks away as we went over everything one last time.\n\n\"Okay, you guys have the code and we watched the video of Cole online a thousand times, so hopefully you'll be able to recognize him,\" I said.\n\n\"I'm going to walk up to him and tell him he's a bad boy and needs to be punished,\" Jess said.\n\n\"I'll stay near you the whole time,\" Mark assured her.\n\n\"I get him to write 'I've been a bad little boy because' and then tell him to list the reasons.\"\n\n\"If he won't do it you tell him you'll spank him with your ruler,\" I added.\n\n\"We get the sample and we get the hell out of Dodge,\" Mark finished.\n\n\"We're here if you need us and we can come in to help you if necessary,\" Cam offered.\n\n\"We'll try to stay in touch by phone as much as possible,\" Jess said.\n\n\"Okay, team. I think it's go time. I just want to thank you all for doing this.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right, Lucy,\" Mark replied. \"When Ricky finds out he's probably going to have my ass.\"\n\n\"I'll tell him I made you do it. Good luck.\" He sighed and rolled his eyes at me, then he and Jess got out of the car and started walking in the direction of the warehouse as Cam and I sat nervously waiting. Ten minutes later I had a call from Jess.\n\n\"We're in. There was no problem with the doorman and the code worked fine. Everyone is standing around mingling right now and we think we've spotted Cole. Oops, gotta go.\"\n\n\"They're in and they're mingling. They've spotted him.\" We sat waiting for a couple of minutes quietly and then Cam spoke up in a slightly hesitant voice.\n\n\"So Gabrielle, you and Braden are pretty serious now, huh?\n\n\"Yeah, we are. We're very happy together and very compatible.\"\n\n\"That's good. I want you to be happy. I'm really sorry that I hurt you back in college.\"\n\n\"I know you are. It wasn't all your fault though. I had a big crush on you. I should have told you that before we... beforehand. I should also have told you that I was a virgin.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that was the thing that freaked me out the most. I did really feel something for you — more than friendship — but you were so nice and so sweet. I had just messed up my relationship with Braden and I was pretty down on myself at the time. I didn't think I deserved somebody like you and then when I realized what you had just given me, I didn't feel worthy, you know?\"\n\n\"So you're saying it wasn't just a casual hook up to you either?\"\n\n\"No, it wasn't but I couldn't really deal with my feelings at the time. When you didn't want to see me anymore at all I was really depressed. I realized that I fucked up royally, yet again, and I didn't want to make it worse, so I just left you alone.\"\n\n\"Cam. I never knew. I figured you didn't want to have to deal with me pining for you and I was just so embarrassed.\"\n\n\"I wasn't a really great communicator.\"\n\n\"I know it's none of my business but why did you hook up with Marla when she was dating Braden?\"\n\n\"Braden was sick of her and on the verge of breaking up with her. She knew that and she figured if she made him jealous it might make a difference. I was out drinking with a bunch of my friends one night and Marla started hitting on me. I knew Braden didn't have any feelings for her and I knew she was just using me. I was pretty drunk and she convinced me to go off into a dark corner with her while she applied her oral skills. I felt really shitty about it as soon as I sobered up the next day but word had already gotten back to Braden. He and I had an argument. He said he could care less who Marla blew but he was mad that I had betrayed him and made him look stupid. I got defensive. I was immature. Whatever. The point is, it wrecked our friendship.\"\n\n\"It seems like you're getting along pretty well now.\"\n\n\"And I want to keep it that way. He's my cousin and he and I were good friends once. I'm still attracted to you, Gabrielle, but I really do want you to be happy and I want Braden to be happy too.\"\n\n\"You'll meet somebody, Cam. You're a great guy.\"\n\n\"To tell you the truth, I've enjoyed spending time with Jess and I do find her very attractive too. I think maybe I should explore that a little, if she were interested that is.\"\n\n\"I think she would be if she knew that you were interested in her. Make sure you communicate.\" \"I'm glad that I've worked things out with you and Braden. That makes me feel a lot better.\" Just then a call came in.\n\n\"We got it!\" Jess whispered excitedly.\n\n\"You got it?\" I almost couldn't believe it.\n\n\"Yeah, but I don't think I'm going to be able to get it out of here. They're careful about what you carry in and out. I had to hide the phone and we've been getting some weird looks.\"\n\n\" _You've_ been getting weird looks? At a kinky party?\"\n\n\"Because we're not, you know, engaging.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Look, we may actually need to sneak out of here. Meet us at the back of the building in case we need help. We may have to come out a window and I'm not sure what's back there.\"\n\n\"Shit!\"\n\n\"Don't worry. Just meet us.\"\n\n\"Okay. We're on our way.\"\n\n\"They may have to come out a back window. They want us to meet them at the back of the building.\"\n\n\"Okay, make sure you bring the pepper spray. This isn't exactly the Upper East Side.\" We walked toward the warehouse, circled wide to avoid the bouncers in the front, and crept as quietly as we could to the rear of the building, crouching behind some boxes. I looked up and saw a window open. In the next minute Mark jumped out and Jess started through. Suddenly, I heard a voice shouting.\n\n\"Hey! What's going on?\"\n\nI stood up and called out, \"We're over here!\" Mark caught Jess as she dropped to the ground and held her hand as the two of them bolted in our direction. I heard more voices at the front of the building and it sounded like they were directing someone to come after us. We ran like hell, no easy feat in stilettos, incidentally. A group of burly bouncer-like guys swarmed around to the back of the building as we took off for the spot where we had left the car. Unfortunately when we got there, the spot was empty. Have I mentioned that this was a bad neighborhood?\n\n\"My car!\" I cried.\n\n\"Are you sure this is where you parked it?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" I could hear voices in the distance. \"What the fuck?! Why are they still looking for you?\"\n\n\"Gabrielle, this is an illegal gathering and there are important people here. We just snuck out the fucking window. That may cause them some concern.\"\n\n\"Well, then we have no choice.\" I took out my phone.\n\n\"Who are you calling?\" Cam asked.\n\n\"The police. We're about to give them an anonymous tip.\" I called it in and we set off on foot trying to get as far away as possible before the cops arrived and raided the place. We ran until we were all out of breath. Finally, we paused to rest in an alleyway.\n\n\"Okay,\" Mark panted. \"I say we call a cab from here.\"\n\n\"Hey! Isn't that your car?!\" Jess cried. I looked up. It was the Mini Cooper about three blocks away! Somebody had just boosted it for a joyride! We ran toward it and dove in. I pulled away with my tires squealing and headed home. Fifteen minutes later the four of us, bedraggled and sweating, were staggering into the lobby of our building, when I heard a voice. _Oh shit_. Ricky was home early from the club.\n\n\"And I thought the garbage was good,\" Adam said, sounding amazed.\n\n\"Gabrielle?!\" You know, I had never actually heard Braden sound incredulous before. \"Why are you dressed like that?!\" He looked over at Cam. \"Why are _you_ dressed like _that_?!\"\n\n\"Mark? Is that you?\" Adam asked, cracking up. \"Nice shorts, man.\" It wasn't long before he was actually doubled over with laughter. I hoped that he peed himself.\n\n\"Baby! What the _fuck_ are you doing now?!\" Braden was not laughing.\n\n\"There's an explanation for this,\" I said in a timid voice.\n\n\"Does it involve something kinky that you and Cameron were doing together?\"\n\n\"No!\" All four of us started trying to explain at once.\n\n\"Let's go up to your place,\" Braden said loudly over the top of the noise. This was also the first time I had heard him sound absolutely furious.\n\nWe all got on the elevator rather uncomfortably and rode in silence as a MUZAK version of Send in the Clowns played in the background. We entered my apartment to the sounds of joyful yips. At least Bruno was happy to see me. We went into the living room where everyone sat down and Bruno jumped up by Braden. He was happier to see him. I think that Bruno had clued into the fact that Daddy was the more stable parent.\n\n\"I know that you're probably going to beat the shit out of me, Braden, and I accept that,\" Mark said, sounding resigned. \"But if it makes any difference, I did everything that I could under the circumstances to keep her safe.\"\n\n\"He did!\" I backed him up. \"This wasn't his fault. I made him do it.\"\n\n\"And I want you to know that Gabrielle and I didn't do anything together,\" Cam said desperately. \"I swear to God, Braden! I didn't touch her!\"\n\n\"So, why are you dressed like that?\"\n\n\"Because we were trying to get a handwriting sample,\" he explained.\n\n\"And for that you had to dress like one of the Village People?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"The person whose sample we needed was at an underground sex party,\" Jess offered helpfully.\n\n\"At a _what?_!\" I had also never heard Braden yell before.\n\n\"She didn't go in!\" Mark said in a panicked voice. \"Only Jess and I did. They just wore costumes in case they had to come in to help us.\"\n\n\"Help you to do _what_?!\"\n\n\"Get out after I spanked Cole Stephenson into giving the sample,\" she answered.\n\n\"The state congressman?\" Adam asked. \"Wow, Gabrielle, you really _are_ dangerous.\"\n\n\"That's all I did – when they crawled out the window and the bouncers started coming after us – I told them where to run so that they could get away. That's all.\" My voice was starting to quaver. I hated seeing Braden this upset.\n\n\"Oh that's all, huh?\" Braden stood up and plowed his fingers through his hair and started pacing angrily. \"You promised me that you wouldn't knowingly put yourself in danger and you lied to me.\"\n\n\"I didn't lie to you! I didn't think it would be dangerous!\"\n\n\"Why would you even do this?\"\n\n\"Because you and my parents are worried about me. I didn't want you to worry. I honestly believed that either Marla or Cole or possibly Mrs. Mason was the anonymous letter writer. I figured if I just had a little proof I could tell them to back off.\"\n\n\"Why couldn't you just have told me that, or told the police that?\"\n\n\"Because if you had them investigated it could cause a backlash for you and your family. I didn't want to see that happen over a couple of stupid notes.\"\n\n\"A couple? You got more than one?\"\n\n\"I didn't want you to worry. I thought that if I told you that I had gotten another one, and I told you who I suspected, you might do something rash.\"\n\n\" _I_ might do something rash?! You went to a fucking orgy dressed like the fifth member of KISS!\"\n\n\"My plan worked! We got the handwriting sample from Cole!\"\n\n\"Did you know that Marla's a call girl by the way?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"She's a _what_?!\"\n\n\"Don't worry about that now!\" I glared at Jess. \"I just wanted to find a way to make the letter writer leave me alone so that you wouldn't worry. I love you and I don't want to cause you stress.\" Finally his expression softened a little.\n\n\"Well, I happen to love you too and if you don't want to cause me stress then you can try actually talking to me rather than assuming that you know how I'll react to something. From now on, and I _mean_ this, Gabrielle, you will _not_ keep this kind of information from me. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes. Braden, baby, I'm so sorry.\"\n\n\"Do you _promise_ me?\"\n\n\"Yes. I promise you.\"\n\nHe paced some more and raked his fingers through his hair some more. We all sat quietly, not wanting to say anything to make him any more agitated. Finally he stopped pacing and turned to face me with a very determined look.\n\n\"Okay, you really want to make sure that I don't worry about you?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course.\"\n\n\"And you love me?\"\n\n\"Yes! So much.\" I could feel tears start to sting my eyes.\n\n\"Then marry me.\" _Huh?_\n\n\"Did you just ask me to marry you?\"\n\n\"Yes. And believe me, it never would have occurred to me that one day I would be proposing in front of four other people to someone dressed as a dominatrix. Yet here I find myself. And the fact that I'm still standing here extending this offer should tell you something, Gabrielle.\"\n\n\"It does!\" I smiled with incredible, almost irrational, joy as I felt the tears completely filling my eyes. \"I thought that my dad was the only guy in the world romantic enough to knowingly marry into pure insanity just because he really loved somebody.\"\n\n\"So is that a yes?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" I ran over to him and hugged him tightly. I heard a yip and Bruno ran over and started humping Braden's leg.\n\n# CHAPTER THIRTY\n\n\"Mazel tov. Does this mean you're going to convert?\" Adam asked.\n\n\"Who cares about that? Does it mean you're not going to kill me?\" Mark wanted to know.\n\n\"What it means is that Gabrielle won't be digging through garbage or attending underground sex parties anymore. Well, unless I go with her. It also means that if someone is harassing her because they're hoping that she'll leave me, they'll probably just give up.\"\n\nMy happy balloon promptly burst. \"That's why you asked me to marry you? So that you can keep an eye on me and keep me out of trouble?\"\n\n\"No. I asked you to marry me because I love you and I want to be with you always, you nutty broad. The fact that I might be able to keep you out of trouble is just a perk.\"\n\n\"So why are you guys back early?\" Jess asked.\n\n\"Because Braden missed his girlfriend too much,\" Adam answered.\n\n\"We finished up the programs we were scheduled for and I was able to get us an earlier flight. There wasn't anything of any importance to us going on tomorrow,\" Braden replied, glancing at Adam.\n\n\"Because Braden missed his girlfriend too much,\" Adam repeated.\n\n\"Right now I would like my girlfriend to come back with me to my place, but I would like her to please go change her clothes first so that my doorman doesn't think I'm bringing home a hooker. By the way, what were you saying about Marla?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you about it on the way,\" I said, heading off to my room to change. I was back in five minutes in yoga pants and a tee-shirt.\n\n\"Come on Mata Hari, let's get out of here,\" Braden said. We said goodbye to everyone and headed back to his place with Bruno.\n\nAlong the way I told him about Marla and the real story about the garbage. He was pretty shocked but he still laughed when I told him about Cam's client showing up. At least he didn't sound angry anymore. It was starting to sink in slowly that he had proposed. I understood it on an intellectual level but I don't think that it had really hit me yet. I decided that he had been through enough stress because of me and I was going to comfort _him_ with a nice massage and a bath together. When we got to his apartment I headed straight for the bathroom and started filling the tub, throwing in some eucalyptus bath oil. The scent was supposed to relax you. Bruno ran off to check the apartment for whatever Bruno always checked it for.\n\n\"Hey,\" I called out to him. \"Come here and let me not confront you.\"\n\n\"I could use a lot of non-confrontation,\" he said, poking his head in the door and starting to peel off his clothes. He looked really good peeling off his clothes incidentally.\n\n\"It must be very traumatic for a former player to ask somebody to marry him,\" I teased.\n\n\"You have no idea.\" He smiled. I took my clothes off too while he watched with a look that was becoming less relaxed by the second. So much for the scent of eucalyptus oil.\n\n\"You sit in front of me and scoot down. I want to rub your back and shoulders. You seem tense,\" I said and he actually laughed out loud.\n\n\"Ya think? I wonder why.\"\n\n\"Well, I may cause you some tension but I also know how to relieve it.\" I slipped into the wonderfully warm water and sighed. He slipped in with me and sat between my legs, leaning back against me.\n\n\"Mm. I like the way your chest feels all slippery up against me,\" he murmured, wiggling around a little. I started massaging his shoulders and he made a sound like a lion purring.\n\n\"I missed you,\" I said quietly in his ear while plying him with gentle little kisses.\n\n\"I missed you too.\" His shoulders were loosening up and he was sounding much more content.\n\n\"You're sure you want to marry me?\"\n\n\"Yes. I may want a 'do-over' on the proposal though. I think if I try really hard I could probably make it more romantic than that,\" he said with a laugh.\n\n\"It will make a great story for the grandkids.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah sure. How did you ask grandma to marry you, grandpa? Well, it was the night that she attended the orgy dressed like a dominatrix... By the way, when we tell our parents we might want to skip that part.\"\n\n\"Our parents! Oh my God, that's right. Do you think your parents are going to object because we haven't been together long?\"\n\n\"Are you kidding? My parents love you. They'll be thrilled speechless. My dad knew he wanted to marry my mom after their first date anyway.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"So did your dad.\"\n\n\"He did? After meeting Bubbe?!\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" He laughed. \"That's true love, I'll tell you.\"\n\n\"So, he told you that, huh?\"\n\n\"Both of them told me that when I had my man-to-man relationship talks with them. They'll probably both suggest that we have a long engagement anyway though. I'm okay with that as long as you move in with me.\"\n\n\"Jess won't have a roommate.\"\n\n\"She'll find another one and we can afford to cover your rent until she does. Now, how about if you comfort other parts of me,\" he said taking my hand off of his shoulder and placing it on a part of his body that was quite unrelaxed at the moment. I reached over for a bath sponge and began giving him a massage of a different kind. His breathing got heavy and he started to groan. I loved watching him get really aroused. \"Sit on my lap,\" he said in a thick voice. I changed position and thoroughly enjoyed the look of bliss on his face as he slid inside me.\n\n\"I love you Braden,\" I gasped as he raised his hips and pushed into me harder.\n\n\"I love you too. Kiss me.\" I kissed him and lost myself in all of the wonderful sensations.\n\nBy the time we had both completely released our tension the water had cooled so we got out, toweled off and headed for bed. Bruno was asleep in his doggy bed already as Braden and I snuggled in and fell asleep holding each other.\n\n* * *\n\nThe sound of Braden's cell phone on the bedside table woke us up the next morning. He reached over to pick it up as I groggily glanced at the clock. It was 9a.m. We had slept really late. It sounded like he was talking to either Adam or Mark.\n\n\"It's on now? Okay, yeah. I'll call you later.\" He hung up and reached for the remote to the TV mounted on the wall. \"Apparently an underground sex party got raided last night and a few notable local personalities were picked up.\"\n\n\"A few?\" Who had been there besides Cole, I wondered. Braden clicked on the news and we sat watching in shock as the full story unfolded.\n\n_Police say that the raid was the result of an ongoing investigation into the operation of illegal sex parties._\n\n\"Ongoing investigation my ass!\" I said angrily. Braden shushed me.\n\n_Among those arrested were Pennsylvania State Representative Cole Stephenson._ There was a shot of Cole with his head down walking to a car flanked by a couple of high-priced local defense attorneys. _Socialite, Marla Benton..._\n\n\"Marla _was_ there! She must have been working the party!\" It was a nice added bonus.\n\n_And society matron Veronica Mason, who may possibly have been the organizer of the party, known as Fanny Hill._\n\n\"Mrs. Mason! Holy shit! The whole gang was there!\" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.\n\n\"Well, it looks like you'll get access to handwriting samples from all three of your suspects. I'm sure they wrote out some kind of statement. If not, though, I'll get a subpoena. It shouldn't be too hard now.\"\n\n\"I'll give Steve Flynn a call and see what the earliest he'll be looking at them would be. I'm not expecting today, since it's Sunday.\"\n\nI was wrong though. Steve was available later that afternoon if we could get something from the arrest the previous night. Braden got on the phone with his office and found out that all three had made brief written statements, so the samples were ours. We made arrangements to meet Steve at the Roundhouse, Philadelphia police headquarters at three.\n\n\"I can't believe that nasty frigid woman was hosting sex parties,\" Braden said, shaking his head.\"I hope it doesn't reflect badly on the foundation that she was a donor.\"\n\n\"I doubt it, but it will give Alan something to keep him busy.\" I remembered how stressed he had seemed when the journalists started questioning him about my dad and I felt kind of sorry for him. But then that was his job.\n\n\"What do you think will happen to them?\"\n\n\"I think they'll hire high-priced defense lawyers, who aren't half as good as public defenders, but who will still manage to get them off with probation. Then I'm sure that all three will write books that will hit the New York Times bestseller list and they'll do the talk show circuit. It's probably the best thing that's ever happened to them.\"\n\n\"Poor Felicity.\"\n\n\"Oh come on Gabrielle. She can't stand her mother and this will probably make her the coolest Goth chick on the scene.\"\n\n\"Maybe you're right. Now that the letter writer is probably in custody, do you still want to get married?\"\n\n\"For the final time, yes! Don't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, definitely. I love you and I'm sure that I want to be with you. I'm just still kind of shocked that it happened so fast.\"\n\n\"I'm not. I knew from the first date too.\"\n\n\"You did?\"\n\n\"Yeah, do you want to hear about it from my perspective?\"\n\n\"Actually I do. The male mind fascinates me. So tell me about our first date through your eyes.\"\n\n\"The first thing I noticed, being male, was that you looked incredibly hot. You're very attractive dressed for court, but with your hair down, dressed in a short skirt with bare legs, you look amazing.\"\n\n\"I would have thought you would have noticed that my shirt kind of showed off my boobs.\"\n\n\"That goes without saying. You know how I feel about those.\" He glanced down happily for a moment and then continued, \"I could feel the sexual tension between us and it was turning me on from the very beginning.\"\n\n\"I could feel it too.\"\n\n\"I probably would have been totally distracted by thoughts of nailing you, if it weren't for the fact that you said that you liked walking in the city in the evening because you always felt like something exciting was about to happen. I just found that really cool and I couldn't think of anybody else who would say something like that.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah, and then when you told me later that you wanted to have hot sweaty monkey sex with me, that was it. I was done for and I knew it.\"\n\n\"I'm sure lots of women have made you that offer.\"\n\n\"Not that way.\" He laughed. \"And we talked for hours and found out that we had a lot in common. The biggest thing, though, was the places you took me. Anybody who could see true quality beyond superficial appearances was one classy chick in my opinion. And I could also see that you were a kind person without being condescending.\"\n\n\"That's so sweet. I knew you were a classy guy, and a good one, from how you acted in court.\" \"Last but not least, when I kissed you and you were so responsive, you almost drove me out of my mind. In another five minutes I probably would have begged you to invite me in. And speaking of inviting me in, my morning friend is visiting.\" He gave me a slightly lecherous smile. Bruno didn't even stir. He had become so accustomed to Mommy and Daddy having hot sweaty monkey sex that it didn't even phase him anymore.\n\nLater that day we sat across from Steve Flynn as he carefully examined the samples.\n\n\"What do you think?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well, I can't be one hundred percent certain, of course, but it's my opinion this note was not written by any of these three people. I don't have the original from New York for comparison yet, but what I see in the facsimile just confirms that. Your anonymous letter writer is likely a different individual.\"\n\nI was stunned. I was so sure that it was one of those three. All kinds of thoughts raced through my head. How had some other person even known we were together? What was their motive? How had they known where we were in New York? For a brief second Cam came to mind. He had confessed that he was still attracted to me but he had sounded completely sincere about being happy for us. No, it wasn't Cam. My gut told me it wasn't. So, who was it then?\n\n\"Baby, don't worry,\" Braden said putting his arm around me. \"We'll make sure that there's a full investigation and you're going to move in with me and we're going to get married and everything is going to be fine. Nobody is going to bother us.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" I smiled at him even though I was worried that those sounded like more famous last words.\n\n**Do Gabrielle and Braden live happily ever after? Who is the anonymous letter writer? Will Jess and Cam get together? Will Marla, Cole and Mrs. Mason end up doing reality TV? How will Cousin Rachel like Drew? Will Bubbe be allowed to attend the wedding? Would Mr. Harris the shoplifter be back for the July Fourth picnic season? These questions and many more will be answered when Gabrielle and Braden's story concludes in _The Home Court Advantage_ coming later this year.**\n\n# Acknowledgements\n\nA special thanks to author Kym Grosso who patiently gave me help when I knew nothing about how to become a writer, and to my editor, Julie Roberts, for her patience (does anyone see a pattern here?) and her fabulous sense of humor. Thanks to Carrie Spencer for designing not one, but two, amazing covers for me, and all of the indie authors who came before me. Thanks to Tara Sivec, Courtney Cole and Emma Chase, all of whom wrote fabulous funny and sexy books and were kind enough to accept my fan-girl adoration and my friend requests on Goodreads. Thanks to my lovely beta readers who were so helpful and to all of the readers, fellow authors, and bloggers who have stuck with me on my author pages through this whole process. As always, to my wonderfully patient husband for not kicking me to the curb while I was writing this book, to my mom for always being my number one fan, and to my beautiful children for being so damned loveable. Finally, thanks to all of my Neurodiverse peeps for your support and your strength. Flap on my friends flap on!\n\n# About the Author\n\nN.M. Silber is a former public defender who hung up her power suit and put away her sensible pumps to become an author of contemporary romance novels. She used her experiences in the criminal court system as a starting point to build her interesting cast of characters and her humorous story lines. She is a firm believer that funny can be sexy and sexy can be funny and the brain is her favorite erogenous zone. She lives in the Philadelphia area with her patient husband and two beautiful sons.\n\nFor more information visit:\n\nnmsilber.com,\n\nwww.facebook.com/NMSilber\n\n@NMSilber on Twitter\n\n[  \n](https://twitter.com/NMSilber)\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \nFour Days In February\n\nBy: Roy Diestelkamp\n\nCover Art By: CL Smith from www.goonwrite.com\n\nCopyright 2013 Roy Diestelkamp\n\nSmashwords Edition\n\nSmashwords Edition, License Notes\n\nThis e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book, and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\nThis e-book is a work of fiction. All events, characters, places, firms and institutions in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a ficticious manner. Any similarity to any persons, living or dead, or to any actual events, firms or institutions is coincidental or unintentional.\n\n**********\n\nTable of Contents\n\nAcknowledgment\n\nChapter One\n\nChapter Two\n\nChapter Three\n\nChapter Four\n\nChapter Five\n\nChapter Six\n\nChapter Seven\n\nChapter Eight\n\nChapter Nine\n\nChapter Ten\n\nChapter Eleven\n\nChapter Twelve\n\nChapter Thirteen\n\nChapter Fourteen\n\nChapter Fifteen\n\nChapter Sixteen\n\nChapter Seventeen\n\nChapter Eighteen\n\nChapter Nineteen\n\nChapter Twenty\n\nChapter Twenty-One\n\nChapter Twenty-Two\n\nChapter Twenty-Three\n\nChapter Twenty-Four\n\nChapter Twenty-Five\n\nChapter Twenty-Six\n\nAbout the Author\n\n**********\n\nAcknowledgment\n\nI dedicate this book to Mary, my wife, and the woman I love.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER ONE\n\n\"Am I being kidnapped?\" he yelled.\n\nGeneral Pinchon's hair was disheveled, his knee was sore, and he had a bump and a cut on his forehead. An SUV had just screeched to a halt in front of him, and two men had leaped out and seized him by the arms and shoulders, and thrown him into the back seat, banging his head and knee on the door frame. The grab had taken just seconds, and now the vehicle was speeding away. Pinchon didn't know why these men would want to kidnap him. It didn't make any sense. He had been retired from the Army for three years; he was comfortable but not rich. He didn't have any state secrets anymore. So why had these men jumped him? It sure wasn't how he had planned to vacation in Hawaii.\n\nHe had been standing outside his hotel, waiting for an Army staff car to pick him up and take him to a luncheon with Army Chief of Staff, William Yates. Yates was visiting commands in Hawaii and California and had personally invited Pinchon to lunch, because he said that he wanted the retired General's advice and strategy on some upcoming operations. He said there would be a few others at the meeting, too, but had not said who. An aide of General Yates had then phoned back and changed the pickup time to 01100 hours, an hour earlier than originally set by the Chief of Staff. Pinchon had been glad to hear from his old friend and protégé, who had served under him in past campaigns, and two years ago had been promoted to Army Chief. He had looked forward to hearing how things were going between the new President and Army commanders, during these turbulent times.\n\nThat was then, but this was now. He was a prisoner in the back seat of an SUV, with some uncommunicative burly guy sitting on each side of him. None of his assailants were willing to talk; he didn't even know what language they spoke. They obviously knew who he was, and where he could be picked up, but though he demanded, they didn't identify themselves.\n\nThe SUV sped quickly from the hotel, but not so fast as to screech tires or catch the attention of bystanders. The vehicle made some sharp turns at various intersections and then headed onto an expressway. They travelled at normal highway speed now, and there seemed to be another vehicle travelling in concert with them. Eventually both vehicles turned off the highway at the airport exit. Through the dark tinted windows Pinchon could see they were not going to the terminal, but headed down a long service road, then through a side gate that opened for them, and finally the SUV drove into a hangar. As they entered the hangar the General could see parked inside was an all white executive jet. The men again quickly hustled him out of the vehicle and onto the waiting plane, and moved him down the aisle and into a seat over the wing. There were other people on the plane.\n\n\"Am I a prisoner? I was grabbed and manhandled right off the street! Do you know who I am? I am retired Army General Bull Pinchon. Who are you? Where are we going?\"\n\nHe had asked those questions before in the SUV, but had not gotten any answers. The man opposite him was clean shaven, short haired, and well dressed, in a black suit with some sort of a little pin in the lapel. He was wearing a headset and was talking on it to someone.\n\nThe man looked at Pinchon and said, \"No, Sir! General, you are not a prisoner. I am a Special Agent, my name is Samuel Melman, and we are going to Washington.\"\n\nGeneral Pinchon shifted his eyes about, taking stock of his surroundings; it was some kind of a small luxury jet. Up closer to the front of the cabin, he could see two other dark suited men sitting on a brown couch in front of a long table. They were speaking to a man in a crisp white uniform, probably a pilot; but they were not speaking loudly enough for Pinchon to hear. Opposite the General, between him and the couch, and facing to the rear of the plane were two big empty executive leather seats, separated by the aisle. Another matching fourth seat was across the aisle, but turned perpendicular from the others to face towards him. Out of the corner of his eye Pinchon could see there were two more sets of chairs behind him facing the front. Two of his captors moved behind him and sat there, and one moved back up front to a seat opposite the men on the couch. Outside the plane's engines were starting up, and their high pitch whine was getting louder.\n\nPinchon raised his voice over the sound of the engines and asked the Special Agent, \"Did you say we were going to Washington? ...Is that D.C.?\"\n\n\"Yes Sir,\" D.C.,\" agent Melman replied back loudly. \"Sir, I want to apologize for any inconvenience in the manner we brought you onto the plane. I hope it was not to unsettling for you.\"\n\nThe General snorted, \"'Inconvenience,' you say! I was waiting for a pick up ride beside my hotel, when this black SUV roars up; two men jump me, and push me into the side door. We were driven through some back gate of the airport, to this hangar, and hustled onto this plane. I hardly call that an 'inconvenience.' That seems like a kidnapping to me.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir, I am sorry for that, I hope it was not too unpleasant for you. I assure you again, you are not being kidnapped; as strange as it seems, we meant you no harm. Those men were following my orders. It was necessary for you to be picked up with as little commotion and witnesses as possible.\n\nOh, the pilot has just told me that we can roll out and take off. We have been moved up the queue of departing aircraft and have been given expedited clearance. We will be the next to take off. Sir, it's a twelve hour flight from Honolulu to D.C., so I urge you to relax if you can. After we get in the air, a steward can serve you some refreshments and lunch. Consider yourself our guest.\"\n\n\"Lunch! I was supposed to have lunch with some Army brass. That was where I was going when I met your friends. There are some powerful Generals that were expecting me to have lunch with them at the officer's club, not with you. You are aware that they are going to know something is wrong when I don't turn up.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, Melman replied, I am sure they will wonder.\"\n\nPinchon thought for a moment and said: \"I suppose this means that you are the one who phoned and changed my meeting by an hour, and that was not done by General Yates staff.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, sorry again for that, but we wanted you to come to another meeting, not that one. So we arranged to pick you up an hour before they did.\"\n\n\"Do you really think that I am not going to be missed. I am a stickler for punctuality; everybody knows that I am on time, and I don't miss meetings! Army Chief of Staff, Yates, came to Hawaii and specifically asked me to come to a lunch with him and some of his friends. It sounded important.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, they will wonder about why you didn't show up, maybe even send someone out to look for you, but by then you will be at 35,000 feet over the Pacific.\"\n\nPinchon frowned and enquired, \"When are we supposed to get to D.C.?\"\n\n\"We will be getting into Andrews Airbase at around 0600, Sir.\"\n\n\"Andrews,\" we are landing at Andrews. Not Dulles or National?\"\n\n\"No Sir. We are landing at Andrews.\"\n\n\"This isn't a military jet; it's private isn't it?\"\n\n\"This is not a military plane, but 'private,' Sir.\"\n\n\"So how come we are able to land at Andrews?\"\n\n\"We have permission, Sir.\"\n\n\"Are you military?\"\n\n\"No Sir. I am with the Secret Service. I did serve in the Army. I was a captain, and fought in Desert Storm, Sir.\"\n\n\"Isn't it highly unusual for the Service to be involved in civilian renditions?\"\n\n\"Sir, you are not under arrest. You are just going to a meeting.\"\n\n\"Well, any idea why somebody in Washington wants me there so bad that they couldn't just ask me to come and meet them?\"\n\n\"No Sir, I just am following orders,\" agent Melman replied.\n\n\"Humph. There are lots of retired Generals, and half of them work for cable news companies; you haven't kidnapped me for some news organization have you?\"\n\n\"No Sir. I was instructed to have you in Washington by 0600.\"\n\n\"So, you are a punctual man too!\" Pinchon observes.\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\n\"Did you ever think of just asking me to go with you?\"\n\n\"No Sir, we thought you would prefer the meeting with General Yates. My instructions were to bring you, quickly, and without you communicating with anybody else. If you had declined our invitation it might have been difficult.\n\n\"I am just taking you to Washington. In D.C. we will be met at Andrews, and you will be taken where ever you are supposed to go. That is my assignment.\" The plane's nose pulled up, and the aircraft shuddered. \"We are airborne Sir, so again relax.\"\n\nPinchon retorted, \"It doesn't appear that for the moment I have any other viable choice.\"\n\n\"No Sir.\"\n\nThe General leaned back in the leather seat. The engines whined loudly as they climbed; he heard the thump of the wheels retracting; the plane hit a little turbulence and shook some more. Beneath were the rolling waves of the Pacific, and above were puffy clouds brought in on the trade winds. As he looked again around the plane he saw that just as the outside of the plane had been without markings, so also there was no identification inside, as to who owned this plane. He was going to Washington on a 'generic' no name plane.\n\n\"So if you are an agent in the Service, were you involved at Mobile?\"\n\n\"No Sir,\" Melman replies. \"I wasn't assigned to President Carr's detail.\"\n\n\"Were you involved in the manhunt for her killers.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, everyone was, others still are. I was pulled off to go get you.\"\n\n\"Considering no one has been arrested yet, you had better get back at it.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\nPinchon then mused, \"How can a whole week go by, and nobody know who the assassins were, or who they worked for. Nobody has claimed responsibility, there seems to be no evidence trail to follow, and no one has been caught. How can that be? How can somebody kill the President of the United States and get entirely away, and no clues turn up. This could not have been pulled off by an amateur gunman or a loner. This took planning and organization, and almost certainly some help. Someone somewhere has got to have seen something. I don't understand how come no real leads have turned up.\"\n\n\"No Sir, I don't either. Someone is mighty good at covering their tracks.\"\n\nPinchon replied, \"or someone is helping to cover up the tracks. A single bullet, to the head ...high powered ...military issue. That takes a real marksman. Only a few snipers can hit a target from such a distance ...have to allow for the wind, that's a marksman.\"\n\nMelman sighs, \"Yes Sir.\"\n\nThe General cut Melman off and interjected: \"That should limit the suspect list. Armies train those kind of marksmen. Elite, special guys. But those kind of guys usually get taken by the agencies.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir,\" Melman agreed.\n\nThe General spoke gruffly, wincing at his own words. \"Course ...other countries armies and governments train snipers too. We don't know who did it, a foreign assassin or one of us. But I tell you, the people are scared ...they have a right to be too! It's bad, a President, publicly gunned down, and on TV too! This may have been the most public murder in history. Brutus murdered Caesar, Booth did Lincoln. Both were killed in public places, but not on live TV. I can't believe how many times it has been replayed on TV.\"\n\nPinchon mutters on, \"The people are scared, and nobody knows who did it. Nobody knows what the end of it is going to be. I tell you, the American people put her in office; someone else wouldn't let her be. It will be war if a foreign government had anything to do with it. Americans won't allow any rogue nation to get away with killing our President. But it could be worse if a home-grown extremist group did it, for political purposes, to prevent constitutional government. They would have done it to change the election. That's treason ...and that very thought makes my blood boil.\"\n\nMelman softly agrees, \"Yes Sir.\"\n\n\"I sure didn't vote for her, and am against about everything she ran on, but you change Presidents at the ballot box not with a sniper rifle. We have to find out who did this ...one way or another we have to get those who killed President Carr and attacked our people.\"\n\nAgain the agent softly agrees, \"Yes Sir.\"\n\nThe plane's engines quiet down, and Pinchon says: \"That's what a retired General thinks, but that's what average people think too. Right now Washington is in a mess. President Woods hasn't shown leadership enough for the people to have confidence in him and know that he can do his job. Nobody votes for the Vice President in our elections. You pick the person you want for President, but you get their side-kick too. It would be almost impossible to change, but we need to make the V.P. be elected separately. It used to be that way, well sort of. The guy who came in second in the election for President, became V.P. Washington came first, Adams in second place became VP. Adams later came first, and Jefferson came second; then Jefferson came first, and Aaron Burr came second, and became vice President. Of course that didn't work out too good either. Burr got in a gun duel with Alexander Hamilton, and killed him.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\nPinchon goes on, \"President Woods hasn't spoken to the nation in six days. The whole government has gone quiet and seems impotent. Even noisy Congressmen and Senators are shaking. They are afraid of what the truth might be. The TV shows the President and Congress barricading themselves in their offices. Nobody has a plan, nobody is telling the nation anything. Somebody needs to get out there and get things under control, and that somebody is the President. Somebody needs to tell President Woods that. I don't suppose you would hand me a phone, I would like to call some people! ...No I suppose not.\"\n\n\"No Sir.\" Melman says.\n\nThe General leans back in the chair. He still does not know much. Who sent these agents to get him, are they friends or foes? What is their purpose with him, is it for good or bad? Where are those who killed the President? When will hope return to the nation? Finally, why take him secretly to Washington? All these questions, and more, but no answers yet.\n\nThey are flying from the sun towards the dark of night, to greet the sun again on the other side of the nation. The nation too is travelling from the light of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, through the night of death, fear, and despair; looking and longing to see if the future will bring the return of the sunshine of hope and peace. Pinchon decides he might as well try to sleep a little; it will be a long flight, but a quick night. In the morning he will find out what this is all about.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWO\n\nGeneral William (Willy) Yates, was a battle scarred, four star General, and Chief of Staff of the Army. He also was growing impatient and irritated. \"What do you mean he's not here, I made the invitation myself?\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, we were there to pick him up exactly at 1200 hours, as you ordered,\" the young captain said. He was not there, so we phoned his room. There was no answer, Sir. We inquired at the desk, and asked that his room be checked. He was not there either.\"\n\n\"It is not like Bull to not show up, let alone be late. He used to rip anyone who ever was late for a meeting, or worse ...stood him up. Punctuality is his hall mark. No! ...This is not right. He knew I wanted to see him, and pick his brain and get his advice. He would not stand me up. Something is going on, and that is a big concern to me. Have security make some quiet inquiries, and find out what happened to Pinchon, where he is.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\nYates turned and went into a private dining room. Seated at a long table were seven men, including four very senior military officers.\n\nArmy General Terrance (Terror) Jonston, was a close friend of General Yates. However, in the past he had opposed some of the strategic ideas of General Pinchon, with whom he was not friendly. He blamed Pinchon for having blocked his rise to Army Chief. Still, Jonston had worked hard and eventually was made Commander, U.S. Pacific Command (USPACOM). As such, he was the supreme commander of all military forces in the Pacific. Higher authority was only held by the President, himself, and the Secretary of Defense along with the Joint Chiefs. It was unusual for him to attend a meeting that he was not in charge of.\n\nLieutenant General Gregory Gnies, was the Commander, U.S. Army Pacific (USARPAC), and among his responsibilities were the Army forces in Hawaii, Alaska, and Japan. He had served under both Yates and Pinchon, and was highly respected for his attention to details. He did not lose sight of small things, while working on the big ones. Pinchon had mentored him, and Gnies too, like the General, did not care for politics. He got along with Jonston, but was not as political.\n\nAdmiral Douglas Coop, was Commander U.S. Pacific Fleet (USPACFLT). He had been a carrier pilot, flying combat missions against enemy forces in the mid-east. He, like Jonston, believed the current administration in Washington, and its predecessor were hopelessly weak, and did not understand America's military needs or responsibilities.\n\nAir Force General Francis Mack, Commander Pacific Air Forces (PACAF), had once flown Stealth Bombers. He was great to have on your side in time of war, but was often too outspoken in times of peace.\n\nJoining them was Secretary of the Army, Craig Strate, and Senators: Philip Olds and Michael France. Strate was a man who had for the past two decades gone everywhere, whether in business or government, with Defense Secretary, Mitch Ishnik. He had served under him when Ishnik was Under Secretary of Defense, followed him later to the CIA, and then to private industry. He had faithfully returned with Ishnik to the DoD under the previous administration, when the latter was appointed Secretary of Defense. Ishnik had then been asked, and agreed to remain as Defense Secretary, under President Carr, and now Woods. Strate was good at bureaucratic in-fighting. He also demanded that others be as dedicated to Ishnik, as he was. He would cause trouble for any opponents of the Secretary. He respected Pinchon's ability, but considered him not loyal to Ishnik.\n\nSenators Olds and France were the hawks of the U.S. Senate. They had railed on what they thought was the present administration's weak foreign policy and compromise. They decried the economic and military rise of China and India who were challenging America's leadership of the world. The senators yearned for a return to U.S. economic and military supremacy. The nation, they believed, required a strong American President, if it was to return to its rightful power and importance.\n\nThe Secretary of the Army and the two Senators had travelled on the same plane as Yates. The latter two had done so discreetly, without informing their Senate leadership or colleagues of their trip. Yates had thought it important to include General Pinchon in the meeting, to try and get his backing for their plans, or at least his neutrality. The Senators had gone along to show their support, and were due to return with Yates to Washington as soon as the meeting was over. Olds and France were anxious there be no delays; they wanted to be back in the Senate in the morning.\n\nYates said: \"Gentlemen, it appears our guest of honor is not going to show.\"\n\nGeneral Jonston said: \"Pinchon is not coming! Why not? Is he not with us?\"\n\nSecretary Strate said, \"If Pinchon is not with us that could be a problem, we wanted him to be a symbol to the troops of honor and patriotism.\n\nThey love him, ...respect him.\"\n\nGeneral Gnies muttered to himself: \"What is the problem ...do we need a symbol of honor?\"\n\nSenator Olds said: \"Yates, what happened to him? I thought you said you could bring him aboard.\"\n\n\"Pinchon and I are old soldiers, made of the same fabric; I still believe he will stand with us, for the good of the nation. I do not believe he will be a problem. He just is unavailable for the moment.\"\n\n\"That doesn't sound like Pinchon to me, do you know, is he up to something? I have been bitten by him before,\" said Jonston.\n\nStrate said, \"Yates, you need to find him.\"\n\nSenator France spoke up and said: \"Well, Pinchon or no Pinchon, we have to keep going. We have crossed the Rubicon, too many things have happened, and too many things are now in motion. It will mean failure if we do not succeed. We have to be certain to keep our nerve.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Strate. \"Woods is too weak, and too spineless to be President, in the face of unknown and malicious enemies.\"\n\nSenator Olds asked: \"Why are the Marines not at the meeting today, are they with us?\"\n\nYates replied: \"No, no Marines for the present. But we have the major commands behind us already, they agree there must be a change in Presidents, and that it must be now. Secretary Ishnik is keeping a low profile, but has his finger on everything. The Pentagon is ready for a smooth transition. The Marines will not be a problem. They just do not want to take the lead.\"\n\nGeneral Mack asked: \"How are you going to get the President to resign; why is he going to agree to our demand?\"\n\nStrate said: \"It's literally like in the movies, we are going to give him 'an offer he can't refuse.'\"\n\n\"But why can't he refuse?\" said General Gnies.\n\nStrate frowned, \"Because Woods is a weak accidental President. He was chosen VP to help Carr win the mid-west. But he was never strong on security, national Defense, or foreign affairs. He was just a popular Wisconsin Congressman and then a partial term governor.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Yates, \"and he is going to be presented with an ultimatum from the military to resign in favor of Secretary Ishnik.\n\nGeneral Gnies said: \"But the Defense Secretary has four people in front of him in the line of succession.\"\n\nStrate spoke up: \"We know that the Speaker and the President pro tempore won't take the presidency, and 'strong representations' are being made to the Secretaries of State and Treasury. The two Secretaries are going to decline the presidency.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, appropriate pressure will be brought to bear ...they do not want to stir the military at a time like this. They will be made to understand that it is better that they decline, than a new precedent be set by the military openly intervening to protect the Constitution.\"\n\nYates said, \"This way the military is keeping the nation safe, and yet the people can feel good that a President Isnik will maintain 'civilian control.'\"\n\nGnies said: \"...But the military would have forced a change in Presidents.\"\n\n\"To defend and protect the Constitution, which is our sworn duty,\" Yates said. \"We aren't doing this for ourselves, for money, or personal power; we are doing this for the good of the nation. The people will applaud us for keeping America strong and free. Don't back away General Gnies, you are a good man, keep your head on straight. Look who you are with, patriots all.\"\n\nSenator France said: \"Yes, patriots all; all for America.\"\n\nYates phone rang, and he answered it. \"Captain, have you found out what happened to Pinchon? ...He was seen going out the hotel at 01050. ...Why would he do that if he wasn't going to be picked up for over an hour? ...Something is wrong here. ...We need to know if somebody else has reached out to him. Call over to intel, they have been keeping an eye on him. See if they have any sense of what is going on, and get back to me. Right!\"\n\nYates said, \"I think we have done about all we can do without Pinchon. We were in agreement without him; this meeting was just to get him to join with us and perhaps become our public spokesman ...to keep the Army happy and the people calm. We will have to go on without him, at least until we can find him.\"\n\nSenator France said: \"You commanders especially now need to show yourselves to be in command. Guide your junior officers, remind them of their allegiance to and duty to defend the Constitution of the United States of America. The Constitution, along with our nation's peace and security, is endangered by unknown forces, and we are acting for the General welfare. Tell them directly, order them, to rally around their commanders, and the nation's new leader.\n\nSenator Olds said: \"Tell the junior officers to tell their soldiers, sailors, and airmen that they are standing with patriots defending their homeland, their homes, their husbands and wives and children. Tell them that they are on a glorious mission.\"\n\nYates phone rang again. \"Yates here, what have you learned? ...Was the General on it? ...They have already left. ...Where are they going? ...O.K., O.K. Make sure that our people meet it at National. ...Right. ...And have our plane ready to fly in one hour, for Andrews. ...Right.\"\n\n\"What is it,\" said Strate?\n\nYates replied, \"There was a mystery plane with a number of people on it, that left Honolulu airport about an hour ago. Somebody had the influence to get the tower to move ahead its takeoff slot. Its flight plan however is to fly directly to D.C. and land at Reagan National.\"\n\n\"Who was on it; who owned the plane?\" said Strate.\n\n\"There is no information about that, it seems to be missing. Even so, we do not know for sure whether Pinchon was on it.\"\n\n\"Let's go\" said Olds, \"wherever the General is, Senator France and I had better be in the Capitol in the morning.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER THREE\n\nThe engines reverse thrusters roared, slowing the plane as it hurled down the runway. It was overcast and there was a light rain in Washington, D.C. Pinchon from his window could see no other plane landing or taking off from Andrews Air Force Base. He glanced at his watch, it read 4:42 a.m. EST., they must have had a tailwind. At the end of the runway the plane turned onto a taxiway and proceeded towards a group of hangars. Suddenly the doors on one of the hangars opened and the plane turned again and pulled in... the engines shut down and the cabin lights came on. Pinchon could see out the window that the hangar doors had shut again as soon as the plane's engines had stopped. Two black SUV's and a sedan pulled up to the plane.\n\nMelman was again talking into his headset.\n\n\"Sir, we have arrived at Andrews, and need to disembark. Transportation awaits and they are in a hurry to leave.\"\n\nPinchon snorts, \"Are they going to throw me in the back seat again and bump my head on the door frame?\"\n\n\"No Sir,\" Melman says, \"we are sorry about that.\"\n\nPinchon retorts, \"Well I certainly don't have to retrieve any articles from the overhead bin, or go to baggage claim, I don't seem to have any bags. Oh yes, I remember, I was grabbed off the street and hustled to the airport. Perhaps in the future your travel service might consider that passengers would have baggage, if they knew they were going someplace.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir,\" Melman replied. \"Please head to the exit and go down the steps and walk to the car.\"\n\nPinchon gets up and follows Melman down the plane's aisle. The two men who were at the back of the plane are standing and watching, and the two others who were in the front have already de-planed. The cockpit door is still shut and the pilots remain out of sight, and the steward is standing silently in the rear of the galley. Melman motions with his arm towards the plane's door, and then follows Pinchon down the steps. Melman points towards the black sedan, and says,\n\n\"This is for you.\"\n\nAnother well dressed man with a lapel pin jumps out of the driver's door and quickly walks around and opens the back door for Pinchon. Melman heads for the front passenger door and gets in.\n\nAs the General settles in the rear seat he sees there is another fellow occupant. The distinguished looking man appeared to be about eighty years old, was wearing a tailored black suit, starched crisp white shirt, a solid light blue colored silk tie, with a matching handkerchief in his breast pocket. Pinchon noticed the man didn't have a lapel pin like Melman and the others.\n\n\"Who are you?\" the General bluntly said. It appears that I have come a long way to see you. Tell me that you do not work for some TV news company.\"\n\n\"No Sir,\" the man said, in a patrician, Boston brogue; \"I do not report the news, I work for a man who makes the news. I am Charles McKinley Adams, and am Senior Special Counselor to President Woods.\"\n\nAdams presses an intercom button and tells the driver: \"The White House please, with speed, just do not drive so fast as to call unnecessary attention to us.\"\n\nThe hangar doors again open, and the car drives out, Pinchon notices a lone car lurking, about two hundred yards away. Its lights are off, but its windshield wipers are working. It appears that there are two occupants. Meanwhile, the SUV's take up their position ahead and behind the sedan, and drive along an airport laneway and then out a gate, exiting Andrews. Traffic is light at 5:01 a.m., it is still dark; the rain has picked up.\n\n\"Senior Special Counselor to the President,\" Pinchon says, thinking out loud. \"I don't remember President Carr having you, did you work for her too, or are you new, with President Woods.\"\n\n\"I am quite new,\" Adams replies. \"The President appointed me three days ago. General, you probably do not remember me, but I worked for two different administrations about twenty-five years ago, one Republican and one Democratic, and then returned to corporate life. The new President finds me useful for now, because I have personal relationships with most of the leaders of both parties in Congress. I know who is likely to be helpful to the President and who is not. I also know where some political skeletons are buried in this town. That can be useful on occasions.\"\n\n\"Political games!\" General Pinchon replies, \"political games are what go on in this town. I don't believe in political games, I believe in integrity, honor, service to the nation, and getting things done.\"\n\n\"Ah yes,\" says Adams, \"but what you call political games, others call getting things done. Serving the nation sometimes means getting others too, to be motivated to also serve national interests; even if they originally do not want to, or do not agree as to objectives. That too is honorable. General, you will need to remember that the way forward does not always appear as clear or simple to those who have the responsibility for governing, as to those on the outside who do not, but instead have the luxury to complain.\"\n\n\"I guess that is why I stayed a retired General. In the last election, both parties were after me to work for them and back their candidates. I just don't play those games; I am not a politician, and would not be a good one, or want to be. Generals are take charge kinds of guys, we give orders, we shake things up, we are not interested in consensus building or negotiation. If somebody stands in the way of our assigned objectives, well we 'motivate' them to change their mind or get out of the way. No, I am not a politician, and will never be one, and I am glad for that.\"\n\nAdams' phone rings; \"Excuse me,\" he says, \"I have to take this call.\" Adams talks in clipped phrases, guarding his words. \"Yes Sir,\" he says, \"I have the package. ...No Sir, not until the White House, and we are ready for the meeting. ...Are you going to be there too? ...Good, and bring your friend. ...Do not come to the White House. ...Go to the EEOB, we will meet you in the conference room, you remember which one. ...Good! ...Yes Sir, if you and your friend could be there in forty-five minutes, that will give us time for our first meeting. ...No Sir, conditions do not allow for you to come to that other meeting too. ...The General and I will go to that meeting and then discuss the situation with you. ...Thank you Sir.\"\n\nAdams closes the phone. \"Melman,\" he says, \"How much further?\"\n\n\"We will be at the White House in five minutes,\" Melman replies.\n\n\"Why are we going to the White House?\" Pinchon asks. \"Isn't it a little early to meet anybody?\"\n\nAdams replies, \"When the President wants something, it is never too early.\"\n\n\"Well, who does the President have me meeting with?\"\n\n\"General, you are meeting with the President; he is the one who set these events in motion, that is why you are here.\"\n\nThe General asked, \"What does he want from me, why all the secrecy?\"\n\nAdams says, \"The President will tell you that himself, we are almost there.\"\n\nGeneral Pinchon mulls in his mind the events of the past twelve hours. He is a soldier, he has fought the nation's wars, serving under multiple Presidents. Never has he experienced anything like this. The car enters the White House gateway, an agent looks in the car window and then quickly opens the gate. The sedan pulls up to the door, and Adams and Pinchon exit the car and go past the Marine Guards into the White House.\n\nPinchon asks, \"Are we meeting the President in the Oval Office? I have been there before you know, I briefed Presidents several times.\"\n\n\"No,\" Adams says, \"we are meeting him in his private quarters.\"\n\nThey then go down the hallway and take the elevator up to the family floor. Secret Service agents are standing at their posts throughout the hallways.\n\nPinchon says, \"I didn't know the Secret Service were so protective even in the White House private areas. They don't look like they trust anybody.\"\n\n\"That is their job,\" Adams says, \"and especially in these days they better not trust anybody.\"\n\nAdams nods to an agent standing in front of a door, and tells him, \"I have a package for the President.\"\n\nThe agent steps from in front of the door, and Adams lightly knocks, opens it, and says to Pinchon, \"Follow me.\"\n\nImmediately on entering the room Pinchon realizes that this meeting is not going to be a conversation over breakfast. The room smells like a hospital, and that is what it looks like, an intensive care ward. The room has two doctors and three nurses tending President Woods, who is laying on a hospital bed, in a light blue hospital gown that was pulled down from his shoulders, revealing his chest, which had monitors attached to him seemingly everywhere. Tubes were dripping liquids in both arms. The President was receiving oxygen, and breathing heavily. Pinchon has seen soldiers in battlefield hospitals in all sorts of conditions, but this situation was not at all what he had expected.\n\nAdam's stepped up to the bed and leaned over it and said, \"Mr. President, I present you General Bull Pinchon.\"\n\nTurning to Bull, Adams says, \"General, President Woods wants to speak very briefly with you. As his speech is weak would you lean down for him, and listen carefully.\"\n\nPresident Woods slowly raised his right hand and extended it, and Pinchon took hold of it and the two men gently clasped hands. The President's hand was not strong. The President said, \"General Pinchon, I am glad you agreed to come see me. Let me be clear, I am dying; I have an inoperable brain tumor. I did not know I had it. I just had some headaches during the election campaign, but after election day the headaches stopped for a while. Then the night before our inauguration they came back, and grew more severe. The doctors ran every test and took every scan and discovered one day after the inauguration, that I had an advanced and very aggressive brain tumor.\n\nDoctors now tell me I could die within a very few hours to a few days, and I believe them. President Carr, when she was originally told of my tumor, was as shocked as I was. She offered me her support. I encouraged her to immediately begin looking for a man or woman she could later nominate to become Vice President. That way, a reasonable time after my death, she could send that name to the Congress for confirmation.\n\nYou know that our nation has suffered multiple calamities. Our President was horribly murdered, and I succeeded to presidency, tumor and all.\n\nI have to try and provide for a reasoned and good succession. I do not believe President Carr was killed by a crazed killer. I believe she was assassinated because someone wants to overthrow the Constitution. Why I believe that to be true, Charles Adams and others will explain to you shortly. I am going to die, probably within days. General Pinchon, I called you here because I want you to become the President of the United States! I have signed a letter and sent it to the Secretary of State, that says I want you to be President.\"\n\nPresident Woods pushed himself up just slightly and said, \"This is my solution for the nation, it is why I sent for you. If you do not take this office, it will be too late for me to ensure a successor. Sir, will you serve your nation again?\"\n\nGeneral Pinchon, briefly steadied himself, gripping the railing of the bed. \"Mr. President, I did not know and am shocked at your condition. I am so sorry. This is a calamity in a time of peril and distress. I will always be ready to serve the nation in any way I can, but how can I become the President of the United States! It is not possible, Mr. President. There are already Constitutional successors for you. There is no vice President, true, but there is the Speaker of the House, he will become President, and if he cannot, the President pro tempore of the Senate would succeed to the office.\"\n\nPresident Woods rallied his strength and said with emphasis, \"No, it is necessary for you to become President. If we can constitutionally do it, and in time, will you agree to serve?\"\n\nPinchon shuddered and said, \"Mr. President, if it can be done constitutionally, and lawfully, I will agree. However, I do not know how this can be done.\"\n\nWoods spoke again and said, \"Mr. Adams here will guide you through the process. ...And Mr. Adams, begin that process now and with all speed. I shall do my best to live another day or two. Go quickly.\"\n\nCharles Adams spoke and said: \"Thank you Mr. President, for your service, and for this service. ...General, we must go quickly, come, now, we have business to do.\"\n\nPinchon saluted, and turned and followed Adams out of the room. He was about to speak in the hallway when Adams said: \"Wait, not here, hallways have ears; wait until we go to where we can speak privately.\"\n\nAdams and Pinchon took the elevator down, and then walked rapidly through some further hallways and down staircases. Finally they came to a Marine guard again, who opened a door, and they entered a tunnel. Adams said, \"this runs to the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, the EEOB. We will meet with some of my friends, and work to bring about President Wood's plan.\"\n\nPinchon, in his mind, is in denial, and thinks, how can this be? How can he lawfully be made President of the United States – today! He surely cannot be elected. He could be nominated to the office of Vice President under the twenty-fifth amendment to the Constitution. However, both houses of Congress, the House and the Senate, would have to hold hearings and then vote to confirm such a nomination. That process could not be accomplished in a day, or even a few days. Such confirmation would take some weeks.\n\nMoreover, because of the present distress over the assassination, and also the huge political malice and venom that was seen before it; Pinchon doubted any confirmation process would be viable for the foreseeable future. The extremists of both sides were raging at each other, and refusing any compromise. They would each demand a vice Presidential nominee that would agree to their agenda and reject the other's. They also might demand that a future Vice President and President-to-be, swear loyalty to their ideas.\n\nPinchon knew that he would never be anybody's puppet on a string. He would never agree to be such a weak man, let alone weak President. The nation, right now, desperately needed a strong, capable head of state, who would lawfully lead the nation out of the political, criminal, and perhaps treasonous morass that it was in.\n\nClearly President Woods did not have enough time left to get a new vice President. Equally clearly, the President was deluding himself into thinking there was anything different that could happen, than that the Speaker of the House of Representatives would succeed to the Presidency. This had never happened before, but it was constitutional, and it was authorized by the law. The Speaker of the House would surely become President.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER FOUR\n\nA clock somewhere unseen was chiming 7:00 a.m. Pinchon noticed out the hall window that it was still raining. The EEOB even at this hour of the morning had staffers going to and from various offices. Some were carrying cups of coffee, and Pinchon thought, \"Coffee, that would be good.\"\n\nJust then they came to a door with another dark suited man with a lapel pin standing in front of it.\n\n\"We are here for the meeting with the President's commission on free trade,\" Adams said.\n\nThe agent guarding the door stepped out of the way, and Adams opened it, and said, \"This way Sir.\" Pinchon entered and Adams quickly shut the door.\n\nEntering the room, the General saw a long conference table with about a dozen chairs. Seated at the end of the table were two men and a woman. Pinchon did not know who the one man or woman was, but recognized from Congressional hearings some years before, the older man who was seated at the end of the table, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Ryan Burlson.\n\nAdams said, \"Mr. Speaker, good to see you, and glad you brought your friends. Is Richard coming?\"\n\n\"Good to see you too Charles, and yes, Richard is coming, I hope very soon.\"\n\nAdams replied \"Good,\" ...\"and General Pinchon let me introduce the Speaker of the House, Ryan Burlson. He is an old friend of mine out of Texas. ...Speaker, this is General Bull Pinchon.\"\n\nAs Pinchon and the Speaker shook hands, Pinchon said, \"The Speaker and I have met before.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Speaker, \"I remember the General appearing before the Armed Services Committee a number of times in past years.\"\n\nAdams then said, \"And this is Dora Vinnity, House majority leader, and Henry Onan, House minority leader.\"\n\nAs they shook hands, Vinnity said, \"General, we do not know each other, but I am glad to meet you and wish you well in your service.\"\n\nOnan also quickly extended his hand to Pinchon and said: \"Speaker Burlson and Richard have told me a lot about you, I am glad you have agreed to serve.\"\n\nPinchon was about to ask what they meant, but the door opened again, and he instantly recognized a familiar friend, Richard T. Sharon, the very elderly President pro tempore of the Senate.\n\nAdams spoke up and said, \"Welcome Mr. President, we were waiting for you.\"\n\n\"Hello Charles,\" the President said, and \"hello Bull, Martha will be excited to hear you are in town.\"\n\nPinchon replied: \"Good to see you too Mr. President, and give your wife my greetings. Is she well?\"\n\n\"Yes, Martha is well, a little weak on her feet, like I am, but she still keeps watch on me.\"\n\n\"That sounds right,\" Pinchon said, \"she always set me straight.\"\n\nHenry Onan spoke up: \"The General knows your wife, Mr. President?\"\n\nPinchon interjected, \"Yes, I knew Mrs. Sharon, before I did the President pro tempore. She was a good friend of my mother, and she is the one who gave me my nickname 'Bull'. I was Ulysses Pinchon, until she saw me play football in high school, and said that I ran through the defensive line like a bull. That nickname stuck. Since my mother died, not many people call me Ulysses.\"\n\nThe Speaker spoke up and said, \"We need to be about our business, and make sure everything is agreed; we must do it quick and right the first time, there will not be a second chance. Now Richard, why don't you tell the General what we want to happen today.\"\n\nThe President pro tempore cleared his throat with a small cough, and said: \"Bull, we are asking you to do something for the nation that is fraught with unknown danger and difficulty. If our plans go awry in the next twenty-four hours, we ...and you ...could lose our reputations, our positions, perhaps even our personal liberty, and lives. There are people in high places of power in this nation, who will be against what we are going to do. Some will oppose us out of principle, and some will be unprincipled and challenge us out of political malice; and worse, there are yet others who will act against us because they plan treason. For these reasons, we must act together ...decisively!\"\n\nSharon continued, \"President Woods is about to die. He knows it, and we know it. We do not have any option about him. Since he succeeded President Carr, we have had no Vice President. ...Bull, President Woods, the house leadership, and a few in the Senate, have for eight days been considering who would, could, or should be the next President of the United States. We have concluded together, that you are the one who should be President. We can go no further, however, until we know that you give your full and free consent. We do not ask this lightly of you, there are terrible dangers to the nation, and if we are thwarted in our plans, well... great personal difficulties to us all. If we attempt this, as Benjamin Franklin said at the signing of the Declaration of Independence, 'We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.' So then Bull, you have met with President Woods, and now with us... will you do it, will you agree to serve?\"\n\nBull, shook his head in disbelief. He bluntly said: \"How can this happen? There is a constitutional and a lawful order of succession, and Mr. Speaker you are next in line, and Mr. President pro tempore, you are next after that. So then, I again say, whatever my thoughts about the situation, how can this happen, that I can constitutionally and lawfully be made President of the United States, let alone today? There just is not enough time for a Vice Presidential nomination and confirmation. A handful of members of either house of Congress, from both political parties, could tie the nomination up for days or even weeks.\"\n\n\"Bull,\" Speaker Burlson said, \"We have considered this carefully. You know that the President pro tempore and I are of opposite parties; we politically do not always agree. The same is obviously true of representatives Vinnity and Onan. However, we do not think, rather we know, that right now in the existence of our nation we must not have more political instability or weakness. We need a leader, and we need a leader now. It is true, I could succeed to the Presidency, or decline it and pass it on to Richard, but I am old and not well myself, and Richard, to be delicate, is older still. The last thing the United States needs in the next year or two, is an old, ailing, President who is not at the top of his game. As well, should we assume the office, and then die or become incapacitated because of age, there would be a fourth President in one term. That will not do, and we are trying to prevent that possibility.\"\n\nPinchon looks at Burlson and says: \"But it still cannot be done constitutionally. I won't be part of a 'putsch.'\" I would not be recognized as legitimate by the present Cabinet, government, or the American Armed Forces. Foreign governments, friends and foes alike, would regard me as having pulled a coup. There would be great national instability and protest. To this, you could add the danger that some rogue country might think that no one was in charge, and seize the opportunity to attack us or our allies or interests.\"\n\nHenry Onan spoke up. \"As House minority leader I pledge to join the majority leader in the Congress, and then in public, in assuring all concerned, of your legitimacy. We do not want a coup either. If we had the time we would gladly agree to a nomination and confirmation process. We do not have the time. Necessity is the mother of invention. We believe our way will work.\"\n\nDora Verity said: \"General, you probably wonder why we picked you? Your patriotism and integrity are unquestionable. Your previous service to the country is respected by all. We believe that you are wise, and tough. Best of all, you are not a politician; you have kept yourself aloof from both political parties. You do not owe anything to labor or business, left or right. You are not a lobbyist. No one owns you. Neither party will gain an advantage over the other, if you are President. That will help us to hold down the political hot heads in and out of Congress. Importantly, you are known and respected by all ranks of the military, and loved by many of them. The Joint Chiefs, the Generals and Admirals, know that you believe in civilian control of the military; you can help them through this difficult time. I have to warn you, I believe that civilian control must be emphasized in this present distress. There are things going on today that must be watched closely. I am convinced that you are the man that we need.\"\n\nPinchon replied, \"What about President Woods Cabinet? Do they know what you are trying to do? The Secretary of State is third in line to be President, why not use him?\"\n\nCharles Adams spoke up. \"There are two reasons we do not want the Cabinet officers succeeding the President. First, they are part of the present political administration. They are going to be politically controversial. Secondly, as the Presidential Succession Act states, if Cabinet officers did become acting President, it would only be for a temporary period of time until a Speaker of the House or President pro tempore was available to succeed. The House and the Senate, being controlled by different political parties, would then be likely to get in a race to see who could elect a different Speaker or another President pro tempore who would be willing to take the presidency for their party. This would throw the whole matter into a political firestorm, and constitutional crisis. It would ensure that we would have more changes in who is President. No, we do not want that, we need to have only one more President, this term.\"\n\nMajority Leader Vinnity said: \"General Pinchon, to answer your first question about whether the Cabinet knows what we are doing; the Secretaries of State, and Treasury are aware of our plans, as is the Attorney General. The Secretary of Homeland Security also knows. President Woods has been upfront with them, and they are on board.\" Moreover, our means of making you President, precludes their assuming the office.\"\n\nPinchon leaned forward and asked, \"Has Defense Secretary Ishnik signed on too? Knowing my history with him, I doubt it! He doesn't like me!\"\n\n\"No,\" Vinnity said: \"Ishnik has not been in the loop. Because of several concerns we have not included him yet. However, the President will tell him today personally.\"\n\nPinchon said: \"The nation, the people ...some are going to be really riled up; some are going to be scared.\"\n\nThe Majority Leader said, \"I am riled up at those who shot and killed Caroline Carr, who never gave her a chance to present her legislative program to the Congress. Somebody did not want her to get anything done. The first woman President, dies without a political accomplishment, except for her election. A hundred years from now she will just be a footnote in history. She might have done so much.\"\n\nMinority Leader Onan said: \"And I too am scared of what is going to happen. No one knows what is going on, who is attacking our form of government, or when it will end. The people are right to be afraid\"\n\nCharles Adams says: \"General Pinchon, Will you agree to become the President of the United States?\"\n\nSharon, the President pro tempore, interjected: \"Bull, the nation needs someone to take the proverbial ball and run right through the opposing line. You are the man.\"\n\nCongressman Vinnity said: \"We need you now.\"\n\nOnan said, \"You have to decide now; later, or tomorrow, will be too late, the opportunity will have been lost. What do you say?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Charles Adams agrees, \"What do you say?\"\n\nThis is a position Bull knows he has never been in before. He was trained to defend the country against foreign aggressors... to seek out, cut off, and kill the enemy.\n\nPinchon says: \"I am not ready for this, I do not like politics, and I will never be a politician.\"\n\nSpeaker Burlson says: \"Don't be a politician, be a President. The nation will like that, and respect that... they will see that you are trustworthy and not out for a political party, or even yourself... and the people will follow you.\"\n\nPinchon said, \"I have never backed away out of fear, I have never worried for my personal safety, and I will never fail to serve my country. If you will tell me how I can become President, constitutionally, lawfully, and honorably. ...I will agree; I will serve. If there is anything illegitimate about this plan, I don't want to hear it, and I won't do it. You have to understand, I will accept no political chicanery, and no deceit. Tell me now, how do you propose this to be done?\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER FIVE\n\nAndrews Air Force Base 0745\n\nStrate said: \"Patriots, what we do, let's do quickly. Yates and I are returning to the Pentagon. Olds! France! You get to the Senate, and be ready to work on your colleagues, as soon as the President speaks to the nation.\"\n\nOlds said: \"How is the Secretary going to get to see the President? Woods has been hunkered down in the White House for a week.\"\n\n\"Ishnik will require a meeting with the President alone, this afternoon, due to matters of national security. The President will have to receive him. The Secretary will then be able to make his demand, that for the nation's good the President must resign. He will inform the President that this demand is backed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the highest levels of the military command. The command has decided that it is unacceptable and intolerable that his weak presidency continue. Ishnik will charge that agents of foreign powers have already killed one President and that these powers are prepared to take advantage of our weakness. If President Woods does not resign he must know that the military will do their duty and defend the nation and Constitution.\"\n\nYates said, \"We have to keep President Woods from being able to contact all the Joint Chiefs. The Chairman is not as solid about our demands as the Army and Navy Chiefs are.\n\n\"I worry about the stability of the Air Force Chief too,\" said Strake. \"From what I have heard he has vacillated about Secretary Ishnik becoming the 'Acting President.' He thinks that is unconstitutional.\"\n\nSenator Olds said: \"Unconstitutional! What is more constitutional than preserving our nation. What we are doing is the very thing the founding fathers would expect us to do in this time of danger. Presently, this nation is leaderless; is going to be taken over by foreign powers. We are going to lose our liberty. That calls for extreme action. 'Give me liberty or give me death.'\"\n\nFrance said: \"Yes, but if Woods does resign we must make sure he does not hand the presidency to that feeble minded Speaker or absent minded President pro tempore, no, not even for a moment.\"\n\nStrate continued: \"Ishnik will inform the President that the Speaker and the President pro tempore, and the Secretaries of State and Treasury have yielded their right of succession to him. The President must announce to the nation that Defense Secretary Ishnik is to be sworn in as President.\"\n\nOlds snorted: \"I don't care what the Secretaries of State or Treasury think about it, I don't want them to be President either. It wouldn't change things for the better.\n\n\"Right,\" Yates said, \"and we have plans, ...if either of those two cause us trouble. They and some other of the Cabinet might have to go to an undisclosed location for security reasons. But if they fall in line and are loyal, they can be useful.\"\n\nStrate continued: \"Senators, we are counting on you to rally the Senate to President Ishnik. We want as many of your fellows as possible... you do not have to get all of them, but we need at least thirty-four senators, so that a President Ishnik cannot be convicted if the House impeaches him. We don't know whether we can count on the House to back us, or not. They could impeach. But if we can show them that they don't have the votes in the Senate to convict, then we can reason with them to fall in line behind the new President. What other choice would they really have?\n\nYates spoke up, \"Like the Congress could do anything dramatic, let alone quick. With the world problems we face now, Congress would still be debating, while foreign troops were marching through American cities.\"\n\nStrate said, \"But don't antagonize the members of either house, so that they will unnecessarily oppose us, or worse resist us. We are ready for trouble, but we do not want it.\n\n\"No, we do not want martial law enforced in the streets, by regular U.S. troops. That might strain the loyalty of certain forces and officers.\"\n\nYates replied: \"I have been going around the Army, and have ordered all commanders to tighten up on discipline. I have told them if political things get confusing in Washington, to make sure that they and their junior officers follow orders, only that come through the chain of command. I said that I would be in direct communication with them, and that we, the Army, are guardians of the Constitution, and ultimately our freedom and nation. Let's do our duty.\"\n\nYates watched senators France and Olds leave and turned to Strate and said: \"Do you think we can count on them to get us enough Senators?\"\n\nStrate said: \"If they do, it is helpful, it makes things less messy. If they don't, it won't change our outcome. It will just mean that we will have to bring in some troops and stop any opposition. The Senate is a 'seniors' debating club that cannot react as fast as events. It would be useful if our friends can quiet their concerns. They must appeal to patriotism, and preservation of everything American. Weak Presidents mean a weak America. A weak America means America loses. No! No! We are not going to allow that.\"\n\nStrate then asked, \"By the way, what do you make of Bull Pinchon not accepting your invitation?\"\n\nYates said, \"I don't know. I am positive Bull was coming to meet with me, and he was the one guy I wanted to talk to. He has so much influence up and down the Army.\"\n\nStrate said: \"Yes, and he also believes in what is 'right.' If he were to think that what we were doing is wrong, we would have to deal with him quickly.\"\n\nYates replied: \"Yeah, Bull is for the American way through and through.\"\n\nStrate said: \"...And he doesn't like Ishnik, so he could be a problem.\"\n\n\"That is why I wanted to talk to him,\" Yates said, \"to show him we are for America and not against it. He may not like Ishnik, but he loves America. If he can see that we are on the side of right, he won't be a problem. \"We are really close, and I wanted to bring him over to the Secretary.\"\n\nStrate said: \"But Bull didn't show up.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Yates, \"I will have to tell the Secretary that Bull's reaction is still unknown. I like him, but we are going to have to have a plan if he turns on us.\"\n\nStrate said, \"Well we have a few places where certain enemies are going to have to sit quietly until things are secure.\"\n\n\"Still, if things go well, order is shown, and strength is seen, we may not need to lock many people away,\" said Yates. \"I do not want the Army damaged in all of this, for the bond with the people to be broken. That is why I think we are going to succeed; after all the Armed Forces come from the people. In Vietnam things got messed up because of the draft, and political interference. But the Mideast wars brought the people back to the Army and the other forces. The people trust us and rely on us to stand up for the nation.\"\n\nYates phone rings. He listened carefully for a couple minutes, frowns, and speaks into the phone, \"No he didn't show, I didn't see him. I don't know why he is here, but I will get right on it, and find out, Sir.\"\n\nYates hangs up the phone. \"That was the Secretary. He has an appointment at 10:00 a.m. at the White House with President Woods. He said the President's Chief of Staff tried to put him off until the evening, but that he insisted that he speak directly to the President about the highest security matters.\"\n\nStrate said, \"That is what we wanted, things are going as planned.\"\n\nYates said, \"The Secretary also asked me if I had seen Bull. It seems that mystery plane from Hawaii didn't land at National airport after all. Military security at Andrews, reported an unmarked plane landing at Andrews this morning, and that two or three men were seen de-planing and then transported off base. The Andrews security officer who observed the arrival said one of the men getting off the plane, he was positive, was General Bull Pinchon. The reason he recognized Pinchon was that four years ago he had served on the General's staff.\"\n\n\"I don't like this. Who would be able to get the General to fly overnight to Washington and why,\" Strate said.\n\n\"...And why didn't he at least cancel his meeting with me?\" Yates said. \"I have to find him, and get to the bottom of this. I don't like Bull Pinchon being a loose end, let alone a possible loose cannon. I have got to make calls and put out feelers, and find out where Bull is; I have got to talk with him.\"\n\nYates settled back in his chair for a moment, and looked at the picture collection hanging on his wall, of the Generals of the American Civil War, from both the north and south. Large pictures of General Ulysses S. Grant and General Robert E. Lee hung directly behind his desk. Yates always admired Grant for his tenacity, and Lee for his military genius, moral character, and devotion to honor.\n\nUnderneath Grant and Lee's pictures, resting in a display, were two Civil War officers' swords, one Union and one Confederate. On a table beneath the pictures was a glass case with Yates prized pair of 'New Model' Army Remington ivory handled, long barrelled, .44 caliber revolvers from 1864. He told people that Confederate General James Longstreet, Lee's right hand man, had taken these revolvers from a captured Union Colonel, at the battle of the Wilderness, in May 1864, near Spotsylvania Virginia. He couldn't prove that, but it was a great story. For safety reasons, the cartridge chambers, which could be interchanged, were unloaded, but Yates had a spare loaded cylinder in his desk. He liked to tell the 'history' of the old revolvers, to visitors to his office.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER SIX\n\nRyan Burlson said: \"It's time for the Speaker of the House to speak. General Pinchon, what we are going to do, will be constitutional, swift, effective, lawful, and legitimate. At 9:00 a.m. I am going to gavel the House of Representatives to order. The full House is due to be there, because both whips have given notice that there will be important procedural votes for which every member must be present.\"\n\n\"Yes, we have had both party whips working hard on this,\" said minority leader Onan.\n\nMajority leader Vinnity went on, \"We have called back all Congressmen who were away in their home districts. Most members do not know what is about to happen, but they know something big is going on. They know both leaderships are paying close attention to something.\"\n\nVinnity went on, \"I will advise the House we face a grave national security issue with unknown consequences, and move, for these reasons that the house go immediately into closed session.\"\n\n\"After we are in closed session,\" the Speaker said, \"I am going to leave the chair and go to the well of the House, and tell the members of the President's impending death; and remind them that this would mean that with no Vice President, the Speaker would become President. I am going to point out to the House my own age, and tell them that I cannot accept the presidency. I will also warn them that next in line of succession is the President pro tempore of the Senate, who is older than I am, and in even worse health, and that he will not agree to take the office either.\n\n\"I will further advise the House, that if it does nothing, it is likely in the next twenty-four hours, that the presidency will pass temporarily to the Secretary of State, until at some future time a different Speaker or President pro tempore was selected by the respective House or Senate. That would mean in a time of great national stress, with international ramifications, there could be four Presidents inside of a few weeks. It also would mean both houses of Congress could get in a political race to appoint new leaders, and great confusion could be created. Financial markets would react negatively to instability and uncertainty. Internationally, nations of 'evil intent' could and likely would take advantage of our inability to respond with strength.\n\n\"I would then offer the House a chance, for the sake of national security to remedy the situation -- if they would agree to a highly unusual process. I would offer to resign as Speaker, if the House would agree to immediately take nominations, and then vote to appoint a new Speaker. This new Speaker, once elected would take the gavel immediately, and call the House back to order. He would then be duly ready to assume the presidency upon the President's death -- he would become in reality the 'President-in-waiting.'\"\n\nPinchon said, \"Let me get this straight, Speaker. You offer to resign, ...if the House agrees to appoint a new Speaker...\"\n\n\"Yes, that's right.\"\n\n\"Two questions, then Speaker; how do you know that the House will agree? ...And if they do appoint a new Speaker... how do you propose that I become President? ...After all, the new Speaker will become President.\"\n\nVinnity spoke up. \"You did not totally understand the Speaker. We are going to nominate you, General Pinchon, to be elected by the House as its Speaker.\"\n\nPinchon said, \"How can that be? I have never been a member of the U.S. House of Representatives, I cannot be appointed Speaker.\"\n\nMajority leader Vinnity said: \"It may be a surprise to you and the whole nation, but the Speaker of the House does not have to be a present member of the House.\"\n\n\"He doesn't?\" Pinchon said.\n\n\"He or she has always been a sitting member, but this is just a tradition, the House is free to elect whomever it desires,\" Vinnity said. \"We are going to press the House to rise against very present national dangers, by electing you Speaker, so you may be next in line of succession to the presidency.\"\n\nMinority leader Onan said, \"It is possible that someone else may also be nominated, but in the vote all we need is a simple majority to elect a new Speaker.\"\n\nSpeaker Burlson said: \"We do not absolutely know that the House will agree. If they don't, I don't resign, and we have to face a future with uncertainty in national leadership. We are all here committed to stand together, in spite of political differences, and push for the House to come to the aid of the nation; we think patriotism will prevail.\"\n\nHenry Onan spoke up, \"I am going to be recognized to speak next, after Mr. Burlson, and am going to tell them that the United States, at this moment, needs us to stand together without partisanship. ...That both parties' leaderships have put politics aside, and agreed to nominate four star General Bull Pinchon to become Speaker, so that he could then become President of the United States. That you are a man of unquestioned patriotism, integrity, honor, and ability, and are someone all of us should be able to agree on regardless of our political party. ...That you, did not belong to, or work for either party. ...That the incumbent majority party was giving up the presidency for the sake of the country, and ...that likewise the minority party is not attempting to use this crisis to take that office. The President-to-be would be a non-partisan, seeking to pull the nation together in this crisis, and they could be assured of this, because they all know and respect the character of General Pinchon.\"\n\nPinchon said: \"I expect there would then be a lively discussion. This is something that is just being dropped on them.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the majority leader said, \"but everyone knows we are in a crisis. Everybody is wondering why after the assassination, the new President is not being seen or heard. When the House hears the reason, I believe they will choose to in effect, pick the next President. We would remind them that if they did not act immediately, events would overtake them and make the situation more difficult. To do nothing, is possible, but not preferable.\"\n\nPinchon asked: \"How long do you think this process will take?\n\nThe majority leader said: \"Two to four hours. We want you standing by in my office, because if we succeed, we want you to immediately be sworn in, take the chair, and be seen as, and function as Speaker.\"\n\n\"You would gavel the House to order,\" the minority leader said. \"Then you would pass the gavel to one of the pro tempores and go and get your picture taken at the bed side of President Woods.\"\n\nCharles Adams, spoke up: \"Yes, that is very important ...to show the nation and people that the President is still alive, and in agreement with what we are doing. Very soon you are going to have to take hold of, and direct and control the executive branch, from the White House staff, to the Cabinet, and the bureaucracy. They too must see you as the lawful and legitimate successor to the President. Should he die; they are going to have to be ready to follow your orders.\"\n\nPinchon asks: \"Do you think that is going to be a big problem? Are there going to be major opponents that will try and rally opposition to my becoming Speaker, and then taking the presidency? If so, where do you think it will be coming from, and how likely is it that they will actually try to prevent the succession?\"\n\nAdams again replied: \"This is another thing we cannot be certain about. Upon his accession, President Woods asked the whole Carr White House staff and Cabinet to remain in their posts. Some of them, too, are going to be surprised to suddenly learn how bad President Woods health is. The White House Senior staff, the Secretary of State, Treasury, and Attorney General and a few others know, but others don't. However, I think that most of the Cabinet will fall in line. You will want to accept the resignation of any that you do not believe can be relied on.\"\n\nThe Minority Leader said, \"Charles, tell him about the big concern.\"\n\n\"Yes, the Leader is right,\" Adams said. \"The wild card in this matter is the DoD. Secretary Ishnik knows the President is sick, but does not know how sick. However, he is a smart man and knows that Woods is not functioning well. We believe that Ishnik has instituted orders to all commands that all contacts with the President and White House staff are to be immediately reported to him. No Presidential orders are to be implemented without his knowledge and consent. He is trying to limit President Woods' authority, and take the presidency for himself. This is very dangerous for our republic.\"\n\nPinchon says, \"Ishnik and I do not get along, ...we have a history, ...he didn't agree with my strategic plans for our forces overseas. We clashed. He forced me into retirement in the previous administration. I don't know why Carr kept him on with her new administration, but she did. I suppose Woods kept him after the assassination for stability. Do you think Ishnik's orders are just because he knows the President is sick, and doesn't want some staffer issuing orders in the President's name ...or ...or has he gotten wind of this plan ...and is preparing to oppose it?\"\n\nAdams said: \"Ishnik has not confided in us, nor we in him. Through military aids in the White House and the NSC staff I am sure he is getting some intelligence reports that conversations have been taking place between the President, the Speaker, the pro tempore, and myself. However, unless he has the white house bugged, he doesn't know what we are doing. The Secret Service has kept the President and his personal communications secure. That is why we used the method we did to get you here, we didn't trust any normal means of communication. We didn't want DoD in particular to know.\"\n\nPinchon said: \"You know your secrecy may not have worked. We landed at Andrews, and the Air Force will keep records of arrivals.\"\n\n\"Yes, but your flight was just returning an 'empty' government plane to Andrews. You were not on the manifest. Moreover, going to get you, agent Melman, and his associates traveled separately and by commercial aircraft to Hawaii.\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" Pinchon breathed, \"but we were observed by someone getting off the plane. Ishnik is going to be very suspicious. He is also going to hear from General Yates. After all, I was grabbed when I was heading for a meeting with the Army Chief. I never showed up, and Bill Yates would be very curious why. We are good friends, he served as my second in command. Yates will tell Ishnik about me not coming to his meeting, and Ishnik is going to be adding mystery to mystery. I know him, he is going to be a problem!\"\n\nAdams coughed, then said: \"Yes, Ishnik and Yates are probable problems, maybe others too, in the chain of command. Yates, for one, has, since the assassination, been flying to various commands across the country, having secret meetings. Neither he nor Secretary Ishnik have told why, at least in the presence of our friends in the DoD. The only reason we know about them is that a couple colonels, one in Texas and another in Montana, have reported that Yates has had unusual meetings with other officers that no one will then talk about. Some of them have been in the middle of the night, and included a couple unknown civilians.\"\n\nPinchon said: \"Yates has always been a good soldier, and a strong smart leader; someone I was glad to have my back when going into battle. I never did know why he wanted to see me while I was on vacation, maybe he just wanted to pick my brain on the world situation. We are friends.\"\n\nAdams replied, \"Perhaps, but our sense is that Ishnik and he, along with some or all of the other Chiefs of Staff, are possible problems, and are surely being secretive about something.\"\n\n\"And you haven't been secretive too?\" Pinchon said. \"Let's hope that you are wrong, and that they are just making sure in dangerous times that everything is right with the military.\"\n\nAdams replied back: \"I hope you are right, General, but until we know for certain, you, ...and we, would do well to take care.\"\n\nSpeaker Burlson said: \"Right now, what we need to take care of first, is to put our plan into motion. If we are successful, this afternoon we will have a new Speaker, and if death strikes again today, a new President. Mr. Vinnity and Mr. Onan, you need to get back to the Capitol, and keep control of your parties.\"\n\nAdams spoke, \"General, if it looks as if we are succeeding, you will need to be in the Speaker's office by early afternoon. Melman will quietly take you there by at least 11:00 a.m. The Leader's staff will hide you away in his private work room until you are called to the House.\"\n\nPinchon said, \"Hiding? I am not a fan of hiding; I like things to be done in the light of day.\"\n\nAdams said, \"General, I see the rain has stopped and the sun is now shining brilliantly. I hope that very soon, in spite of tragedy, that our nation will be able to have you succeed to the presidency, and that you will pour sunshine into every corner of the nation.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER SEVEN\n\n\"Mr. Ishnik, you may not remember me because we have not met for nearly two decades, but I am Charles McKinley Adams. Three days ago I was appointed Senior Special Counselor to the President. I need to know why the Secretary of Defense has demanded a meeting with the President, and on such short notice.\"\n\n\"I remember you, Mr. Adams! You were Solicitor General for one President, and Attorney General for another.\"\n\n\"Yes, a long time ago. I did not know if you would remember me.\"\n\n\"I can hardly forget you,\" Ishnik said. \"Your Justice Department ruled many of my initiatives, illegal or unconstitutional. My boss and I had our hands tied by you.\"\n\n\"Rather so. The intelligence service is not supposed to be spying in our country and on certain citizens. Our laws forbid that sort of thing. I know the agency does not like that, and does not always respect it, but that is what the law was about.\"\n\n\"You weakened our ability to protect the country.\"\n\nAdams replied, \"But you weakened our ability to have our country. Our country is under law, not under spies. So, we remember each other well, or perhaps I ought to say, not so well. However, we now both serve at the pleasure of President Woods, so we need to put the past behind and work on the present. Again, why do you need to see the President, it really is not convenient for him now?\"\n\n\"I need to see the President because I am Secretary of Defense and am charged with matters of national security. I have issues that I am prepared to discuss only with the President, and for which only he can give me proper instructions.\"\n\n\"I have been given wide responsibilities in this White House, and am authorized to hear matters of the highest national security,\" Adams said.\n\n\"That may be, but you will not hear them from me,\" replied Ishnik. \"I am a constitutional officer, and I will speak of these matters only with the President. I made an urgent appointment to see him, and I am here and expect to do so.\"\n\n\"Actually,\" Adams said, \"you assumed that the President himself would see you. However, he chose to send me to speak with you.\"\n\n\"Then you better go back and tell him that I have spoken with you, and now must insist that I speak with him too. Considering the President is sick, and that no one has seen or heard from the President for several days, even in the middle of a crisis, I again must insist on seeing him personally. I must know that he is alive and giving the orders to the military. I will not be filtered by you or anyone else. The nation's security is his constitutional responsibility, and I am his Cabinet officer charged with America's military forces.\"\n\n\"Really, Secretary, what matters do you need to speak about to the President? That is all I am asking. Is America in imminent danger of being attacked by some other country, are American soldiers newly imperiled by some foe, or is there a specific danger, that you seek to warn about?\"\n\nIshnik fumed, \"If I do not speak with the President shortly, I will go back to the DoD, and hold a press conference where I will explain to the media and the nation, that White House staff are keeping me from speaking to the President. I suspect that will create quite a furor, is that what you want, Mr. Adams?\"\n\n\"The question is, is that what you want Mr. Secretary? You have the capability for all kinds of mischief, and to create all kinds of furors, but to what purpose? Will that help our country? Will that resolve any issues? Will that reduce any dangers? Really, Mr. Secretary, I do not understand why you resist in telling me your purpose. I could then be in a position to either help you, or if necessary, have you speak to the President.\"\n\n\"Senior Special Counsels do not decide whether Secretaries of Defense have important enough matters to speak to the President of the United States. I am going back to the DoD, you can watch my press conference on TV if you want to.\"\n\nAdams sighed, \"Be calm my friend, wait here for a short time; I shall go and see if you can be worked into the President's schedule. I shall check again with the White House Chief of Staff.\"\n\n\"Why don't you do that, Mr. Adams? I will be right here.\"\n\nAdams, turned and walked out of the room, and went down the hall and around a corner. Out of sight he sat down on a small couch and looked out the window. The rain had not yet come to a stop, but he saw that the sun wass shining through some breaks in the clouds. A rainbow suddenly appeared, bright and beautiful, but just for a moment, and then disappeared. He thought to himself, I hope that our efforts are successful today, and for a longer time than that rainbow.\n\nThe Deputy White House Chief of Staff passes by, and asked: \"How are things going with you and Secretary Ishnik?\"\n\nAdams replied: \"As expected ...testy. He is not accepting that he cannot see the President. I am going to have to let him go upstairs. I am just trying to buy some more time for the House to work. Right now I am having a conference with myself, but Ishnik does not know that. I will wait here for a few more minutes and then go and tell him he will see the President in about an hour. The Secretary won't like that, but he will not pass the offer up either. Nor, will he storm out of the White House and hold a press conference – at least not right now.\"\n\n\"Do you think the President is up to seeing Ishnik? Can he hold his own with him.\"\n\n\"The President will do his best, he is trying with all his might to have Pinchon in a position to succeed him. He is the one who thought up this plan. It is certainly unprecedented. He brought me in to assist if the House leadership has difficulty getting on board any unpredictable members of either party. I do not think he is going to let a dissident or defiant Secretary of Defense stop him. He will rise to the occasion and do whatever he has to.\"\n\n\"...But after Ishnik sees him, and knows how bad the President's health is... ...he will not keep that to himself... ...word will get out.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Adams replied, \"Ishnik knows now that President is not well, he just does not know how bad. That is why I have to stall him for a while longer. If I can get him to wait for the President until 12:00 p.m. that gives the House a little more time. That way by the time Ishnik gets back to the DoD and probably speaks to the press, hopefully the House will have elected a new Speaker. That is all that needs to happen, and then should the President die with no V.P., the lawful order of succession would take place. In one sense the President's plan is so simple, elect a new Speaker of the House. Of course that is also the difficulty, getting the House to act immediately and to pick the General as Speaker.\"\n\n\"What if they cannot or do not agree?\"\n\n\"Then...\" Adams says: \"...Nobody knows what may happen. When the President dies, we will probably have political chaos, with politicians on both extremes pushing different solutions as to who should be President, and for how long. That will lead to confusion as to who is effectively in charge of the country. Considering our present situation with dangers within and without the nation, I really am fearful that such circumstances will tempt some military officers to decide that they should also have a say in the matter.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I have heard that General Yates has been going about arranging quick quiet meetings with chosen commands. That does not look good.\"\n\nYou are right there,\" Adams said, \"and I do not think General Yates does anything but what Secretary Ishnik and Army Secretary Strate have told him to do. ...And that is worse than frightening.\"\n\n\"How long are you going to leave Ishnik on hold?\"\n\n\"Oh, I better go back now, the Secretary of Defense does not like to be kept waiting.\"\n\nAdams gets up and casually walks back around the corner and downs the hall. He finds Ishnik talking very quietly on the phone, so he sits down at the end of a table, and waits. Ishnik cuts the call off, and turns and faces Adams.\n\n\"Well, are we going to see the President now,\" Ishnik said.\n\n\"Soon, Mr. Secretary, soon. The President will see you at ... ...one o'clock.\"\n\n\"One o'clock! That is too late! I have to see him sooner; that is two hours and I cannot just sit around here.\"\n\n\"I really wish you would tell me what you want to speak to the President about, but I see that you will not. I will try to get the Scheduling Secretary to bump you into the President's meetings at 12:00 p.m.\"\n\n\"Noon ...O.K., all right, ...and I will hold you to that!\"\n\nAdams replied, \"Just make yourself comfortable, I will be back to take you to the President at noon. If you want something I can have staff bring you some coffee, a sandwich maybe, or something.\"\n\n\"No, nothing, I will stay here and talk with my staff at DoD.\"\n\n\"As you please,\" Adams said, and went back out the doorway and down and around the hall, heading for the staircase. He did not want to negotiate any further, or give the Secretary opportunity to try and move the meeting time closer. He also must warn and prepare the President for what will be an almost certain confrontation and test of wills. The doctors will not like this, but Ishnik will not go away, the President will have to see him.\n\nAdams goes up the stairs, and again approaches the President's room. The Secret Service agent steps aside, and Adams enters the room.\n\n\"Mr. President, Ishnik is down stairs and insists on seeing you. He refuses to tell me what he wants to speak to you about. I strongly suspect due to the confused situation that he will raise the question of your present ability to command and control our Armed Forces ...and also after personally seeing your condition, that he then will add the matter of Presidential succession. I have resisted him as long as possible. I managed to put him off until noon.\"\n\n\"Have we heard from the Capitol yet,\" the President said.\n\n\"No Sir, not yet. Melman should be taking the General over there very soon now.\"\n\n\"Unless the plan comes apart.\"\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President. ...Sir, are you going to have the strength to deal with Ishnik?\"\n\n\"I am President, I have to deal with him. If he gets too rowdy I will have to fire him. I would rather he acquiesce, salute, and take orders. I expect he won't. Personally I never would have appointed him. Carr kept him at Defense from the former administration, to keep the military hawks happy. They thought she was not capable of commanding the respect of the Armed Forces. With the assassination, I kept him at Defense simply because of national unity, and to try and show continuity of administrations. I didn't have the time or luxury to appoint a new Cabinet.\"\n\n\"No Sir, you did right. Now, you have to tell Ishnik to do right, too!\"\n\nThe President coughed, and the doctors pushed Adams back. \"The President is too weak for a long conversation,\" a doctor said.\n\n\"I am still President, and I still have life, and I still have work to do. Adams with be bringing the Defense Secretary in here at noon, and you docs are going to have to let me deal with him. I do not want him to see doctors hovering over me, and I do not want to be in this hospital gown. Get me some pants and a shirt to wear too, and my suit coat. I cannot meet Ishnik in this bed, ...I have to look as strong as possible\"\n\nThe President coughed again, and Adams backed away so the President would not try to speak any further. Adams knew that President Woods would do whatever his body let him. They would just have to let the events play out.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER EIGHT\n\nIn the EEOB Pinchon is brooding as to whether this plan to make him Speaker of the House can possibly succeed. Suddenly the door opened. \"It's you again Melman, ready to kidnap me again and fly me off somewhere? If you are, please take me someplace with fewer problems.\"\n\n\"No Sir, not now. General Pinchon, I have just been told to take you to the Capitol building. You will be received at the door by some of the Speaker's staff.\"\n\n\"Then let's not keep the Speaker waiting.\"\n\n\"Sorry Sir, our mode of transportation may seem unusual. I have been instructed to take you to the Capitol as inconspicuously as possible. We are not taking an official SUV or sedan. We are taking a taxi.\"\n\n\"You called a cab?\"\n\n\"No, Sir, it is one of our vehicles, it just looks like a taxi. ...If you will come this way with me, General.\"\n\nMelman and another agent lead Pinchon down the hall, through security, and out an exit. There to all appearances a \"taxi\" waited for them. The driver didn't ask where they are going, but drove away.\n\n\"There are a lot of taxis in Washington, Melman.\"\n\n\"Yes, General, we should fit right in. No one should pay us any attention.\"\n\n\"The driver did not start the meter, we may be over charged on the fare. I hope you have enough money.\"\n\n\"No Sir, there is no fare, this isn't a real taxi.\"\n\nAs they drove down Pennsylvania Ave., Pinchon said, \"Melman, I had a little sleep on the plane as we flew here from Hawaii, but you didn't. On the plane, every time I woke up you were wide awake. Have you slept since we got here this morning?\"\n\n\"No Sir, but I have had some coffee. My team and I are still assigned to you for today; most of the other agents are involved in the assassination investigation. That is what I would like to be doing too, but important people say that you need to be protected too.\"\n\n\"Well, Melman, don't go to sleep, you may need some more coffee, because this day is not nearly done.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir,\" Melman said, \"we are approaching the Capitol. The Speaker's aide is to be waiting for us at the door. Yes, there he is.\"\n\nAt the entrance under the Capitol steps stood a tall muscular man, wearing a brown pin stripe suit.\n\n\"He is all dressed up, but he looks like he was once in the Army,\" Pinchon said.\n\n\"General, I am Wilbur Burt, legislative aide to Speaker Burlson, please follow me quickly as I lead you to the Speaker's Capitol office. We need to hurry; the way we are going should be clear so that we hopefully do not run into any reporters. Because the House is in secret closed session the reporters know something big is going on, and they are searching for anyone to talk to. They have been speculating wildly whether the house is going to find a reason to impeach President Woods, because he has not been doing anything after the assassination.\"\n\nPinchon, followed by agent Melman, went with Burt and walked quickly to Burlson's office. As they went he asked Burt, \"which Sevice were you in?\"\n\n\"I was Army, Sir. ...Rangers. I was in Desert Storm and was shot up pretty bad. After a year in hospital, I went to college and got a degree in history. I taught in a local high school for a few years, and then I volunteered to work for the Speaker in his district. After the election two years ago, he brought me to DC.\"\n\nThey came to an unmarked door, and Burt opened it, and said, \"this is the Speaker's small secret office. It was once a store room I think. He uses this when he does not want to go to his official office. We are very near to the door of the house.\"\n\nPinchon had not sat down yet, when the phone rang. There was not room for a secretary, so Burt answered the phone. \"Yes, he is here. We can come immediately. Yes. ...General Pinchon, the House has ended the closed session, and is now open for business. We need to go, you are being called to the House. The clerks are standing by to meet you at the door.\"\n\n\"All right, let's go Burt. Melman keep the meter running on the taxi, we are going to need it soon. As they walk through the door of the House, Pinchon does not hear any open talking. There are hushed whispers, and every eye has turned to look at the door.\n\nThe Clerk of the house leads Pinchon in, and announces, \"Mr. Speaker, I introduce General Ulysses Pinchon.\"\n\nIt is a surreal atmosphere. There is no clapping, no talking, everyone seemed to be holding their breath, and watching. The house had just done something never done before. They had elected a new Speaker in secret session, and that Speaker was not even an elected representative of the people, but an Army General.\n\nThey proceed down the aisle, and Bull is escorted up towards the chair of the house. Ryan Burlson, Dora Vinnity, and Henry Onan are up at the rostrum.\n\nBurlson says: \"Bull it is my good pleasure, and great relief to inform you that this house has just elected you as Speaker. Don't be concerned about the details right now, it is done. The oath of office was taken by Bull, and Burlson said, \"Please gavel the house to order, and say a very few words, and then go see the President. If at all possible, you must be seen with him before he dies.\"\n\nBull took the gavel, and struck it twice, quite loudly, and said, \"the House will come to order.\" Pounding the gavel was superfluous, because the House was already in extremely good order, in fact it was uniquely quiet. Pinchon spoke again. \"I am honored by you electing me Speaker of this House. You have done something extraordinary not because of me, but because of our national distress. You have put aside political divides, and personal ambition, because you want to maintain constitutional order in government. I have little time now, and must hasten to see President Woods, ...but I pledge to you my fidelity to this nation, its Constitution, government, people, freedom, and welfare. I will defend the Constitution and will not back away today, tomorrow, or ever, from my duty. I have fought this nation's wars, and I am still ready to serve, and if necessary, to give my life for this country. I ask you patriots of the Congress, for your counsel, support, and prayers. May God bless the United States of America.\"\n\nSuddenly the whole house stood and clapped; a loud cheer went up: \"God bless the United States of America.\"\n\nBurlson, touched Bull's shoulder, and said: \"Mr. Speaker, you need to leave now. God be with you.\"\n\nPinchon said, \"and with America.\" As they exited the house photographers flashes were going off, and reporters were shouting and asking questions about what was happening? \"Why had Speaker Burlson resigned? Why had the house elected a General as the new Speaker? What was going on? Where was General Pinchon going?\"\n\nPinchon was not stopping to give them answers; he headed straight for the stairs and then the door. As he stepped out under the Capitol steps he said: \"Melman, lets get this taxi to the White House.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\" As they drove away, Melman said, \"may I ask what happened back there, I have not been told.\"\n\n\"Yes, in an extraordinary session of the House, Speaker Burlson resigned, and they then proceeded to elect me to be the Speaker of the House.\"\n\n\"Why, Sir? Why are you Speaker?\"\n\nBecause the Speaker of the House is presently next in line to be President of the United States, and if President Woods dies, I will succeed to the presidency.\"\n\nMelman sat stunned for a moment. \"Is President Woods dying, Sir? Is that why the Congress wants you to be Speaker? That is the only thing that makes sense to me.\"\n\n\"Yes, sadly, I fear all too soon your observation will be true. The President is dying. We are to go see him now while he is alive, to confirm his part and agreement in this plan.\"\n\nThe 'taxi' went back Pennsylvania Avenue through normal traffic and entered the White House grounds. Outside the White House there were various groups of people milling about. Some were just ordinary tourists, others were protestors carrying signs calling for the U.S. to attack one nation or another to take revenge for killing President Carr. Still others were there just maintaining a vigil in these difficult times. As the vehicle drove through the White House gate, a man called out, \"Who called a taxi for the President?\"\n\nThe taxi pulled up to the White House behind a black sedan that was already parked there. As Bull got out of the taxi, just coming out the White House door was Secretary of Defense Mitch Ishnik, and two of his aides. Pinchon's eyes met Ishnik's, who said, \"General, you are never going to get away with this, you are not going to be President of the United States. I will fight you every step of the way, and I will have all American patriots with me. I especially will have the American Armed Forces with me, and we will stop you. We will defeat this treasonous coup' dètat.\"\n\nBull said, \"I cannot stop to chat Mr. Secretary. You don't seem to be in the mood anyway. But I will give quick advice, be careful what you say, and especially what you do now; don't get yourself into trouble. I guess you just saw the President, and now it is my turn.\"\n\nCharles Adams met Pinchon, just inside the door. \"Congratulations, General, everything is coming together. As you can see, the President just had a visit from Mr. Ishnik. I think it can safely be said that it did not go well.\"\n\n\"What did Ishnik want from the President?\"\n\n\"He wanted the presidency!\"\n\n\"Did he now! That would not be the least bit constitutional, there are four others ahead of the Secretary of Defense in Presidential succession.\"\n\n\"That did not interest him; he said he was the only man who could save the nation at this critical time. He was very modest!\"\n\n\"Yes, well, he just threatened me. I am certain we will have to deal with him soon.\"\n\n\"Let's go see the President, you need to be seen with him. Ishnik's visit and demands riled him, he rallied a little, and is waiting for you.\"\n\n\"Was the President able to sit up in bed to speak to Ishnik?\"\n\n\"Oh, he did better than that! He was sitting in the chair behind his desk in the Oval Office, and that is where he is waiting for you. He was determined to use the power of the Office to withstand the Secretary. The Oval Office is an intimidating place. Any President has an amazing advantage over even disgruntled people who come there. People are awed by the office, and the power it exudes. Even though it is an \"Oval Office,\" I have seen Presidents corner powerful men there.\"\n\nAs they arrive at the Oval Office, the President's private Secretary said: \"You may go right in Gentlemen.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" Adams replied, and opened the door.\n\nIt had been a few years, but Pinchon had been to the Oval on a number of occasions. This time was different, however. In the past he had always been there to brief a President; and others would be in the room too, whether it was a Secretary of Defense, high DoD official, or senior military officers. Others of the group might have been seated but Pinchon had always stood at the back of the room the entire time, and did not speak until and unless being spoken to. This time he was the primary one the President wanted to see, and he would be speaking for himself.\n\n\"Charles,\" President Woods said with a strong voice, \"We succeeded?\" Pinchon was surprised. After seeing and hearing Woods on his sick bed, the President was not only in the Oval office, but was looking much stronger.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President,\" your plan has succeeded. I present to you the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Ulysses Pinchon.\"\n\n\"Good show, Charles, well done, I picked the right man to reach out to the two parties in the House; you got this done.\"\n\n\"The Speaker, and the House leaders did the heavy lifting, Mr. President.\"\n\n\"Yes, I am sure they did, but you were making your contacts too. Well done, Sir.\" Turning his eyes on Pinchon, Woods said, \"'General' or I should say 'Speaker,' it is good to see you here. I wish I could say I looked forward to a long and productive relationship, but that is not so.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. President, you are looking better than this morning.\"\n\n\"Well, the Oval Office also works on Presidents, it motivates us, and stirs us up. There was no way I was going to let Ishnik lean over my bed and have an advantage on me. So I insisted on getting dressed and coming here. No one sits down in the Oval Office unless the President invites them to. I had Ishnik stand like a misbehaving school boy before the principal. I caught him off guard, and it made him uncomfortable. ...Oh yes, go ahead and sit down gentlemen, you are not in trouble with me.\"\n\n\"Thank you Mr. President.\"\n\n\"Ishnik is an audacious man. He told me that the Constitution and the nation itself was in perilous trouble, and that I was too sick, and therefore was not, and could not handle the situation. The Secretary said that likewise the Speaker and Senate pro tempore were too old and slow to get anything done, and that he was the right, and only man, capable of saving the nation from all domestic and foreign danger. He thought by his demeanor that he could bully me into handing him the Presidency.\"\n\nAdams said: \"Ishnik's plan would have skipped over the other lawful Cabinet officers who preceded him in the line of ascension.\"\n\n\"Yes he was prepared to have us ignore them. He said he would gain their consent or their silence. When I told him he would not have to be concerned about the Secretaries of State and Treasury, because Bull Pinchon was being elected Speaker of the House, and upon my death would succeed me, he was momentarily stunned. He finally regained his wits, and challenged the constitutionality of the change in Speakers. He called it a sham and a fraud, and said it was against the Constitution.\"\n\n\"He dared to say that when he was prepared to take the Presidency ahead of the prescribed succession order of State and Treasury.\"\n\n\"Oh yes,\" the President said, \"He again said he was the only person able to lead America at this time. He was the one who was defending the Constitution.\"\n\n\"He always did have too high an opinion of himself, and he accepted no one who challenged his plans. I know from firsthand experience,\" said Pinchon.\n\n\"Yes, General, we both have a history with Mitch Ishnik,\" Adams said.\n\n\"He must not be underestimated,\" Pinchon continued. \"He is a capable man, and highly motivated and organized. He will have made plans and contingencies to get what he wants.\"\n\nThe President said: \"But he can be wrong and overreach too. He underestimated the Constitution, that it could be lawfully used to meet a situation. He also thought too little of the Speaker and pro tempore. He thought their age kept them from being able to act quickly.\n\n\"Yes,\" Adams said, \"when the President told them his plan, they agreed quickly, and put all their years of experience, leadership and influence to work, and brought about today's result. Ishnik never considered such a possibility, he was blinded by his own ambition.\"\n\nThe President went on: \"What was done in the House today was truly astounding. There was opposition to the plan at first, and challengers in both parties, but the Speaker and the leadership laid the stark reality out, and convinced the naysayers, or most of them at least.\"\n\n\"Yes, that the General is seen as not of either political party was a big thing. It meant neither party would get 'their President,' nor would they have to give in to the other. You will be a consensus President, General ...Mr. Speaker.\n\n\"If things get rough we will test that consensus,\" Pinchon said. \"I dare say some will change their minds about me.\"\n\nAdams said: \"Oh that goes with the territory. A President doing his best cannot please even his friends all the time. To please Congress long is impossible. There are Republicans and Democrats, but they are divided into many factions: blue dogs, hawks, doves, moderates, liberals, conservatives, progressives, tax and spend, pork barrellers, balanced budget, country, urban, and many others too. You will displease some of them whatever you do.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, you are looking and acting stronger right now, I hope you are able to continue, and I will stand with you,\" Pinchon said.\n\n\"No, General, that is not going to happen. The presidency is not a part time job. It is twenty-four, seven, fifty-two weeks a year. When you go on vacation, you are on the job. ...And when you are sick, you are still on the job. I am too sick. I put on a show today, but I cannot keep it up.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, frankly how are you going to do this?\"\n\n\"Well, Ishnik I think is counting on the situation festering until I die. That would give him a few hours or days to further work his will. I am going to short circuit that. You are not going to have to wait until I die to serve. As the twenty-fifth amendment requires, I have here letters drawn up, to be sent to the Speaker and President pro tempore stating that for health reasons I am unable to fulfill my responsibilities, and that since there is presently no Vice President, the Speaker will become 'Acting President,' with full powers of the office at 4:00 p.m. today. I am going to sign it right now.\"\n\nThe President took a pen from his pocket, and signed the letters. \"As you are standing right in front of me, Mr. Speaker, I am handing you your letter; and the second is going by my aide to the President pro tempore.\n\nThe Cabinet is now also being notified. I am going to make a brief statement on television at 3:45 p.m. That is being arranged with the media, by my Chief of Staff, as we speak. General, I want you to be standing beside me as I read my statement to the nation. That way there will be no question about whether I was able, aware or even agreed with this. You will not have to deal with those questions.\"\n\n\"Thank you Mr. President for your confidence in me. I will protect and defend the Constitution and nation.\"\n\n\"Yes, General, and the President has Circuit Court Justice, Nancy Kogan, standing by to swear you in.\"\n\n\"General, it is your decision, and will be your pleasure, but I recommend you keep my present Cabinet, at least for a while. It is Carr's Cabinet, but the Senate had confirmed the last Cabinet Secretary just hours before she was assassinated. To start appointing a new Cabinet, with the need for confirmation, is in my opinion something you do not need right now. It also presents a bit of stability to the nation and the world.\"\n\n\"I agree Mr. President, with the exception of Secretary Ishnik. I cannot leave him there with his hands on the military levers. I am not sure even about his deputy and assistants. He always required total loyalty. He could be a problem even after being removed. At least I can count on Army Chief, General Yates. He can be a big help to me controlling the situation.\"\n\nAdams spoke up, \"General, use your wisdom on the situation. I would be careful on who you lean on over at DoD, including command officers until you know their loyalty. There have been some curious meetings going on.\"\n\n\"Yes, I never did learn why Yates wanted to see me in Hawaii. I think O' Yates will land straight, especially with me, we go way back. He was my right hand man.\"\n\n\"I hope you are right, but remember, he may have been the 'left hand' of somebody else the last few years.\"\n\n\"If I remove Ishnik, and some of his cronies, I have confidence the DoD will follow this old General. You have to take charge of the military. It is used to obeying orders; it responds to orders. It especially responded to my orders. I don't think they will have forgotten.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER NINE\n\nThe Army Secretary answered his phone: \"Strate here.\"\n\nOn the line was his boss Secretary of Defense Mitch Ishnik. \"This is Ishnik, I have been to see the President, and he rebuffed me. He told me a wild story that the House of Representatives is appointing a new Speaker, who will be ready to assume the presidency.\"\n\n\"What! ...The President said that. How can that be? Did Speaker Burlson die?\"\n\n\"No, Burlson resigned, so they could elect a hand-picked new Speaker who could eventually assume the presidency. ...Yes, and you will never guess who they elected.\"\n\n\"Who?\" It wasn't Tenner or Ezel was it? They have always been against spending on the military.\"\n\n\"No. Bull Pinchon!\"\n\n\"What! Bull has not been elected to Congress. He is not a Congressman. That will never stand up, he cannot be Speaker. It's illegal! It's unconstitutional! It's wrong!\n\n\"That's exactly right! I will be back at the Pentagon in ten minutes; I want a meeting of the Patriot Council within the hour. Be assembling the staff, and get Yates there too. We have got to stop this before it becomes an accomplished fact.\"\n\n\"Right. I will get on it immediately.\" Strate presses the intercom and speaks to his secretary: \"notify Secretary Ishnik's Senior Staff and personal advisors to meet in Ishnik's private conference room, in forty-five minutes. Make sure General Yates comes too.\"\n\nThe secretary replies, \"Do you want the Chairman, and the rest of the Joint Chiefs too?\"\n\n\"No this will be sufficient for right now.\"\n\nHanging up Strate phones Senator Olds. \"Strate here, Senator, what is going on? ...Yes, yes, I have heard all that, its outrageous! ...Yes I know it's illegal and unconstitutional. The Secretary has called a meeting of the Patriot Council in his office in forty-five minutes, notify Senator France and get yourselves here ASAP.\n\nA few minutes later Secretary Ishnik walks into his office, and Strate comes in right behind him.\n\n\"The patriots are coming, they will be in the conference room in the next few minutes. I have notified Senators Olds and France as well.\"\n\n\"Good. I cannot believe that the President is trying to pull this off. Does he think that anyone is going to accept Bull Pinchon as Speaker, let alone succeeding him as President? Bull is a retired General; he was never one to push himself in the media, he has been retired for three years, so no one will even know or remember him. That is good for us. The public will be shocked at three Presidents inside of three weeks, they will want somebody they know, and who they have confidence in, to run the whole government and face down trouble. Who better to do that than me. I have run the Pentagon for over four years, under the last three Presidents, even if the last two only served a week or two each. They found me indispensable, and so will the nation. I will not sit by while some accidental President brings in another one, and one I forced to retire at that.\"\n\n\"Bull was always somebody we could never trust. Yates liked him, but I did not. He was too independent, he took orders, but he let you know what he thought was wrong with them. We never could have included him in the Patriot Council.\"\n\n\"No, you're right. When I started the Patriots, that's when I got rid of Pinchon. He could have been the proverbial 'bull in a china shop.' I would never trust him to stand on our ideals. He doesn't have the same determination to protect the Constitution that we do. He is not only not a 'Patriot,' he has become a danger and a menace, and we have to take care of him.\"\n\n\"Generals have got to be loyal too, and he wasn't loyal to you.\"\n\n\"No, Bull wasn't! I will meet you in the conference room. I have to get my secretary to get me something to eat, can you believe I was in the White House for over two hours, and nobody offered me lunch.\"\n\nStrate heads out to the conference room to make sure everybody is ready. There are two Army MP's, armed, standing outside the door. Strate clenches his right hand, and they let him enter the room. He sees an aide standing near the head chair, and holding a rolled up red sash. The Under Secretary of Defense, and four Assistant Secretaries of Defense were already there. Senators Olds and France had not gotten across town yet.\n\n\"Where are the rest; what is taking them so long,\" Strate said.\n\n\"The Under Secretary said, the Assistant Secretaries for America's Security, and for International Security are in Atlanta and New York. The rest of the Secretaries will be here soon.\"\n\nThe Assistant Secretary for Public Affairs said, does this meeting of the Patriot Council have to do with the scuttlebutt I have been hearing from my media contacts about the House of Representatives. It is the strangest thing I have heard, that Speaker Burlson stepped down, and that the House elected General Bull Pinchon to replace him.\"\n\nStrate interjected, \"You heard right, and Ishnik is ready to go to war over it.\"\n\n\"Why, it's weird, but what is going on? Why is this happening?\"\n\n\"This was done, because there is no Vice President right now; and President Woods is sick enough that he wants to make General Pinchon President. The Speaker of the House most people think is next in line to be President.\"\n\n\"Isn't that what the law says is the order of succession?\"\n\n\"Ishnik will deal with that, and lay out his agenda in just a few minutes. Just don't anybody get used to the idea of Pinchon being Speaker of the House, or President of the United States, ...unless you want to be taking orders from that uncontrolled renegade.\"\n\nOther members of the Patriot Council come into the conference room and wonder at the events they are just hearing about. Ishnik then comes walking in, and an aide places the red sash over his shoulder. In the middle of the sash is a large gold medallion with the engraving of a clenched fist. He sits down in a large chair, at the head of the conference table.\n\n\"Where are the Senators, they are not here?\" Ishnik asks.\n\n\"They are coming,\" Strate says.\n\n\"Who else is not here?\"\n\n\"Only two Secretaries? ...for International Security, and America Security. They are out of town. The rest are here.\"\n\nJust then, Senators Olds and France came rushing in the door. Sitting down, Olds said: \"We patriots have to act quickly or we will not be able to act at all. On the way over here I heard that the President is invoking the twenty-fifth amendment to make Speaker Pinchon the 'Acting President,' almost as we speak.\"\n\nIshnik replied, \"Olds, you mean 'General' Pinchon, Bull is no more Speaker of the House than he is King of England. And the Speaker, in any case, is not the constitutional officer to succeed the President.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen and ladies, as your Patriot Leader I now convene this meeting of the Patriot Council.\"\n\nThe assembled all stand up and face Ishnik. They clench their right hand into a fist, and place it over their heart, and recite the Pledges of Allegiance:\n\n\"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.\n\nI swear that with this fist I will defend the Constitution of the United States from all enemies both foreign and domestic, and will defend the people's government from all who endanger it.\n\nI pledge true loyalty to the Patriot Council and its Patriot Leader, to protect our form of government, and will maintain its secrets, even to the point of death. Long live the flag, long live the Constitution, long live the Patriot Council, long live the Patriot Leader!\"\n\n\"You may sit down. You have all heard the news, and so know why we are here. President Woods is breaking his oath to defend the Constitution, by attempting to make a new order of succession, and installing an unlawful person in the Presidency.\n\nWe cannot allow that; we will not allow that. Probably before this meeting is over Woods is going to implement his plan, and declare that General Pinchon is now President of the United States. Let me state clearly, that is all that Woods can do; declare Pinchon President. He cannot make him President, for the Constitution does not permit that.\n\nIf it interested us, and there was time, the act of making Pinchon the Speaker of the House could be challenged, as being illegal. He is not eligible to be Speaker because he is not an elected representative! That was a charade. It was brazenly done to try to subvert who should be not Speaker, but President. But there is a more basic illegality.\n\nCongress has acted unconstitutionally too when they put the Speaker of the House, and President pro tempore into the line of succession. Article 2, Section 6, authorizes Congress to provide successors if both the President and Vice President die or are not able to serve. Congress was to provide by law, what 'officer' was to act as President. Patriots; such an 'officer' of the government, is an \"officer of the United States,\" in other words a member of the President's Cabinet, and the Speaker and President pro tempore are not.\n\nFurthermore, under the Constitution's separation of powers, members of the legislature may not serve in the executive. The only way for the Speaker to be President would be to resign being Speaker, but then he would no longer be Speaker and still in the line of succession. It is impossible!\n\nDo you understand, the Speaker of the House, and the President pro tempore of the Senate, can never become the President. First, their legislative constitutional office proscribes them from taking an executive position. Secondly, if they quit their post first, then they aren't in the line of succession even though a law tried to put them there.\"\n\nFrom the end of the table, an Assistant Secretary spoke up and said, \"it's an oxymoron, showing the mental weakness of those who would break our Constitution.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Senator France responded, \"but do not underestimate the determination of those willing to act unconstitutionally. They hope to do it quickly, have it in place as an accomplished fact, and have everybody shrug their shoulders and go along with it.\"\n\nSenator Olds said, \"They are counting on our being silent, and doing nothing. Remember Edmund Burke's proverb: 'all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.'\"\n\nSecretary Ishnik spoke again, \"We are good men and women, and we are not going to do nothing. We are going to act. We are going to save the Constitution and nation.\n\nFirst of all we must act quickly and keep the military safe. The new President will try and neutralize and keep it out of the political situation. We have to make sure all commanders are reminded of my instruction that all Presidential orders must be directed to them through the Secretary of Defense. If Pinchon claims the presidency he must not be allowed to start giving orders directly to senior military officers. He personally knows, and has commanded many of them, and will probably try and go around us. We must keep a tight rein on command and control.\n\nOfficers beneath the senior commanders must be reminded their duty is to obey orders, and to observe the chain of command. When senior officers tell them to do something that they do not understand, or think unusual; they still must obey. We require strict military discipline. The proper answer they are to give is, 'Yes Sir!' Not 'What Sir,' not 'Why Sir,' not 'No Sir.' General Yates, is there going to be any problems about military cohesion?\"\n\n\"The Navy and Air Force combat command will back us. The Marines are a little soft. At some joint meetings, their commandant has been resistant to some of our ideas. We may need to neutralize him.\"\n\n\"Do what you need to do, Yates, I do not want the Marines to go AWOL from our mission. Why doesn't the commandant get sick and go to the hospital.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir. I will take care of the commandant, he is going be very sick and contagious, and need complete isolation and bed rest.\"\n\nIshnik goes on, \"now we have to make sure the Secretaries of State and Treasury decide they will 'decline' the presidency too.\"\n\n\"How are you going to get them to 'sign off' on that?\" said Olds.\n\n\"I have set up an emergency meeting with them in my office at 6:00 p.m. They are going to 'sign off,' or they are going to be 'assigned off,' and not return to their job. They are new to office, Carr just appointed them, and Woods kept them on. They have not done anything yet, to get any national visibility. One was a university professor, and the other a Boston banker. They have no experience in government and no political base, except the President.\n\nThey are light weights unable to handle the succession. They should see this reality and willingly sign a document that defers the presidency to me, the Secretary of Defense, as the next in line.\"\n\n\"But won't they also have to buy into the Speaker and President of the Senate not being constitutionally qualified to be part of the executive,\" asked a voice from the table.\n\n\"I will help them to understand that fact too. They are not lawyers or constitutional scholars. I have been around Washington and the government a long time, and I will lend them my knowledge and expertise. My power of persuasion can be very strong. I will urge them that they need to join with me to save the nation. I will remind them that Woods hasn't been able to do anything about the assassination, and that a General is not going to be able to handle the political and social fallout from it. What is needed is a leader with an experienced and steady hand, and that I am that.\"\n\n\"Yes, and you are our Patriot Leader.\"\n\nFrom the back of the room again a voice asked, \"And if things go bad with the Secretaries, what then?\"\n\n\"If things go bad, it will be bad for them, General Yates will for national security reasons be ready to have his people take the Secretaries to a place of safety, \"an unknown location. We will then be able to deal with them when order has been restored.\n\nAgain Patriots, we have to ensure the obedience of the military, and the subservience of the two Secretaries, so that we can put the rest of the plan in action. In the meantime, I want each of you to be alert for anyone in the DoD who may interfere with our plans. There will be some civilians and military who think we have to do whatever someone in the White House tells us. They do not know the Constitution. They are ignorant and unlearned.\"\n\nSenator Olds spoke up, \"Yes remember what Martin Luther King, Jr. said, 'Nothing is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.'\"\n\n\"I ask all of you to be vigilant and brave, together we will do great good, and bring glory to all. Future generations will talk about this as the time of national salvation. We will be called back to meet again this evening. I call for this meeting to dismiss.\n\nAgain, all stand and clench their fist, and place it on their heart. They speak in unison, \"The Patriot fist of unity, the Patriot fist of power, the Patriot fist of freedom. Long live the Patriot Council, long live the Patriot Leader.\"\n\nThe aide comes and removes the Red sash from Secretary Ishnik's shoulder, and rolls it up and places it and the gold medallion in a small ebony wood box, which has on its lid a carved clenched fist.\n\nThe room empties quickly of everyone except Ishnik, Strate and the two Senators. Olds said, \"I wonder if everyone on the Council was as solidly committed as the others. I watched, and some of them seemed to squirm a little bit when you began to talk about the Marine commandant. He is well liked by his men, and many civilians in the DoD.\"\n\nStrate said, \"Yes that's true, it is almost like the respect Pinchon had with the troops, and the Pentagon.\"\n\n\"Yes, and this is a big test of the Patriot Council, will all truly be patriotic.\"\n\nSenator France said, \"we have started acting on the plan, there is no going back. If there is any of the Council shaken a little, they will get over it now that we have begun. It is natural when first going into a battle to be a little afraid. But once the action starts fear is put aside.\"\n\nStrate asked France, \"were you ever in a war?\n\n\"No, I was not in the military, but years ago I was told about fear before a battle, by Army officers when I was inspecting a military headquarters in Afghanistan. It made a big impression on me.\"\n\nStrate said, the guys who told you that must not have seen action but just been in the HQ. It is not wrong to be afraid when going into a battle, just don't let it control you.\"\n\nIshnik said, I hand-picked each of the Council. I first put them in their job in the DoD, then I had meetings with them; learned about them. Then I told them my beliefs. I brought them along and tested them in personal obedience and loyalty, until I was sure I could count on them. Only then did I make them part of the Council. No, I am confident they will not fail us. France is right.\"\n\nOlds replied, \"Yes, my Leader.\"\n\n\"Now I need you two to get back to the Senate. When events break, use your influence to have the Congress take a wait and see attitude about who is really President.\"\n\n\"But the House of Representatives just voted for Pinchon!\"\n\n\"Yes, but they were sold a bill of goods. Woods plan was dropped on them by the old Speaker who told them they had to do this or the nation would fall apart and the world would end. Many of them will be having second thoughts right now, and wondering if they did right. If someone can be there at the right moment, they can be shown the right way.\n\nAppeal to their love of the Constitution. Tell them they have been led away from it by schemers and connivers. Inform them that they can still stand up and tell the nation that when they voted for Pinchon they were deceived; that he cannot be Speaker, nor can he become President of the United States. Now they are going to stand with the American people and do things constitutionally. Now the Secretary of Defense, an executive officer, a Cabinet officer, must succeed to the presidency, rather than a General. Tell them a General taking power apart from a General election, is wrong, and would break down civilian control of the military. Tell them that Ulysses Bull Pinchon is not Ulysses S. Grant.\n\n\"Woods and Burlson did a sneak attack on the House, but we can get the Congress back. We need to be bold, we need to lead them the right way.\"\n\n\"Yes my Leader, we will not fail you.\"\n\n\"Don't fail America; don't fail the Constitution.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TEN\n\n\"Mr. President, we are one minute from broadcast. I will count down from ten, and point to you, and you will then be live on TV.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, I know the routine. As a governor and then Attorney General, I used to tape TV speeches.\"\n\nPresident Woods was standing at one of two lecterns, a camera only showed him, for the moment. Standing just off camera, at the other lectern was Bull Pinchon. Woods was calling up all his strength for one last broadcast to the nation. He was dying, but he didn't want to die on live TV. Moreover he did want to introduce the man who would replace him. That would help the continuity and legitimacy of the next administration. The nation had never before had a transfer of power to someone else other than a Vice President. Besides, many people would not know there were others in the Presidential line of succession.\n\nAlso, there would certainly be skeptics over the process that was used to get General Pinchon to this place. The nation must not be confused as to its lawfulness. The President must take care to show that this was not illegitimate.\n\n\"Thirty Seconds, Mr. President.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. President, for your leadership, and your determination to provide the nation with a capable new President.\"\n\n\"Charles, I could not be doing this without you. So thank you. ...General Pinchon, when I introduce you, I want you to step beside me and shake my hand, then step back to the other lectern and I will then ask you to make a statement to the people of America.\"\n\n\"Fifteen seconds, ...Ten seconds ...Five ...Three ...Two ...One ...\"\n\n\"Good afternoon, dear Americans. I need to explain to you why in the perilous times we have endured, I have not spoken to you. I assure you it was not for lack of desire, but rather a lack of ability.\n\n\"Our nation suffered the tragic and horrific assassination of President Caroline Carr. Upon assuming office I asked for your prayers, and that we all work together to keep our nation strong and free. Immediately I commanded that federal law officials, and all intelligence services determine who perpetrated this cowardly deed. Pursuant to that order, investigation has been scrupulously made by all federal authorities, with the assistance of state and local law enforcement. Disturbingly, no perpetrator or their sponsors have yet been uncovered. Neither has any individual or organization claimed responsibility, in fact many of our nation's foes and even international terror organizations have repeatedly denied responsibility. Let me assure the nation that your government's determination to solve this crime, and to punish the perpetrators; whether domestic or foreign, whether individuals, organizations, or foreign powers; has never wavered. We will find out who did this! We will punish them!\n\n\"But that does not account for my not communicating with you, and appearing to be inactive and inattentive. Two days after President Carr's and my own inauguration I found out that I had an inoperable and aggressive brain tumor that would very shortly take my life. However, after my death I knew President Carr could nominate a new Vice President to be confirmed by the Congress. But we then suffered the calamity of President Carr being cruelly assassinated. Since that tragedy I have refused, as President, to be sedated, but simply to be given whatever medicines were appropriate to make me comfortable; again, as long as they would not cause me to become unconscious. A hospital room was set up in the family quarters of the White House, and since that time I have been there.\n\n\"I have been conducting the affairs of state from bed. Certain staff were able to come to the room to keep me informed, and to receive my instructions for themselves and others. The administration was functioning and working well under very difficult circumstances. I thank all who have worked so hard for the nation. However, I knew that there was additional and very important work to be done. Therefore, I appointed Charles McKinley Adams, a Boston lawyer, and a former U.S. Attorney General to be Senior Special Counselor to the President, answerable only to me. I assigned him to take charge of preparing for even yet another President.\n\n\"Since I had been the Vice President, upon my succession to the Presidency, that office was empty. As President I could have appointed another Vice President, subject to Congressional consent. However, that would have taken weeks for the process to be completed. I have to tell you again that I am dying; the doctors have told me I cannot live. I simply did not have time to get a new Vice President.\n\n\"The next in line to become President is the Speaker of the House, and after him the President pro tempore of the Senate. Both of them felt their age or health made it likely that they would not live out the nearly full four year term of this presidency. They felt the office should go to another. We could have then gone to the list of Cabinet officers in the line of Presidential succession, but these would only be temporary appointments until another Speaker or pro tempore occurred. Again that would mean more multiple Presidents, or if you will, more acting Presidents in the next four years.\n\n\"My own conclusion was that I must try to find a solution that would hopefully last the nearly four years that remain until the next election. Then the American people could again elect the President of their choice.\n\n\"At this difficult time, I also wanted us to avoid the partisan politics that could spring up in Congress because its two houses have different parties in the majority. I did not want the House or Senate, to begin racing to appoint a new Speaker or pro tempore to give their party the presidency. Somehow we had to avoid partisan politics. I had Charles Adams talk with both Speaker Burlson, and President pro tempore Richard Sharon, both honorable men, though of different parties.\n\n\"I came to the following idea. If the then present Speaker of the House of Representatives, Mr. Ryan Burlson, would resign being Speaker, the House of Representatives could immediately appoint a new one; who would then be able to lawfully take the powers of the President, upon my disability or death.\n\n\"I sent Mr. Adams to breech this idea with the Speaker. Mr. Burlson showed his patriotism. He loves the House of Representatives, and being its Speaker. However, he would sacrifice himself for the sake of the country. He agreed to resign so there could be a new Speaker. This was accomplished today. The House of Representatives today then appointed retired General Ulysses Pinchon as its new Speaker of the House.\n\n\"This I am sure is a total surprise to you. You were not expecting the need of a new Speaker, and you probably thought that such a one had to be selected by the House, from one of its members. That has been the practice of all Congresses thus far, but such is not required by the Constitution, or the law. Article I, Section 2, of the Constitution only says that: 'The House of Representatives shall choose their Speaker, and other Officers.' Thus the tradition was that the Speaker was an elected member of the House, but the Constitution and the law did not require this. The House was free to choose at its discretion who should be Speaker. At my request, along with that of the former Speaker, and may I say the leaders and whips of both the Majority and Minority parties, General Pinchon was elected. These men and women acted in the interest not of themselves or their parties, but for the nation. I, and I say we, owe them our highest praise.\n\n\"You may rightly ask, 'but who is this General that is suddenly thrust upon us?' Ulysses Pinchon, is a West Point graduate, and a retired four-star General. He has fought America's battles for thirty years, receiving many awards, including the purple heart, when he was a young officer. He rose steadily in rank and led numerous actions from Africa to the middle-east. At one time or another he had command of U.S. troops in Korea, and also has served as NATO Commander. His expertise is in planning and strategy. Something I find very commendable, is that his subordinate officers highly respected him, and his troops loved him. They knew he would do his best to take care of them. A good General fights. A wise General knows when and where to fight, and when to wait. General Pinchon is good and wise.\n\n\"I face my untimely future with peace of heart, knowing I have not General, but Speaker, Ulysses Pinchon, ready to take up the power of the President. His nick name by which many friends call him is \"Bull.\" This did not come from his Army days, but from his strength and power when a football running back in high school, and then at West Point. He will be a good President for America, I ask you to follow his leadership.\n\n\"I present to you, Ulysses Pinchon.\"\n\nPresident Woods extends his hand, and Bull steps over to him and gently shakes his hand.\n\nPinchon steps back to the lectern and says, \"May God bless the United States of America. May our republic ever be under His protection, one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.\n\n\"My prayer is that the doctors are wrong and that President Woods will only temporarily be disabled from his office. I promise him, and you, that until then, I will fulfill my duty to keep the nation safe.\n\n\"I ask the American people, man and woman, young and old, of every background, race, education, and level of wealth, to work for the common good. This is not the time for disharmony, but for unity. An Army must stand together, or it will not stand at all. A people must stand together, or they will fail together. A nation must stand together, or it will fall. America will stand together, and if it does will withstand its enemies, and will succeed together, and grow stronger. Thank you President Woods, for your leadership, and for your confidence in me.\"\n\nPresident Woods then said, \"God bless America.\"\n\n\"You saw the picture close off. You heard a startling speech by the current and evidently future President of the United States. This is John Sanker of Network News, and I want to present again the main points of the speeches we have just heard.\n\n\"President Thomas Woods, who has only been in office less than three full weeks, since as Vice President he succeeded the assassinated President Caroline Carr ...tells the nation that he is dying! Because of his apparent imminent death, the President, together with then Speaker of the House, Ryan Burlson, and the House leadership, came up with a plan to install retired four-star General Ulysses Bull Pinchon as a new Speaker! All of this was orchestrated so as to make it possible for General Pinchon to be next in line to succeed to the presidency.\n\n\"That is astounding, have you ever heard of such a thing, it is so unbelievable. No one got up this morning imagining any such thing. Let's bring in our White House Senior Reporter, Stanley Worth. Stanley did you have any inkling of this?\"\n\n\"No, John, this is totally a shock. The White House press gallery had not picked up an inkling. Something like this is what you would read in novels.\"\n\n\"John let me break in, this is Roanna Jackson.\"\n\n\"Yes, Roanna Jackson, our Capitol Hill reporter ...go ahead, what do you have to say about this?\"\n\n\"Well, the Capitol Hill press gallery knew that something unusual was going on, we just did not know what. We thought that maybe the House was meeting to actually impeach President Woods. He was so unpopular, and did not appear to be doing his job. We did not know the House was actually meeting to do his bidding. After their closed session, House members were amazingly discreet about what had just happened; to me they acted like some of them were almost embarrassed. Some members would only say, on condition of anonymity, that they had been meeting to elect a new Speaker. Reporters asked what had happened to Speaker Burlson, but all that we were told was that an announcement would be made soon by the new Speaker. But then the announcement came from the White House, not the Capitol. I have been reporting here from the House for eight years, and nothing before has come close to this. I am in shock.\"\n\n\"Thank you Roanna. Do either of you know, is General Pinchon now President, or does that come later?\"\n\n\"The White House is now reporting that President Woods has sent a letter to the Speaker of the House and President pro tempore of the Senate. It reportedly states that for health reasons President Woods is not able to carry on the duties of his office, and that at 4:00 p.m. today, that is in about five minutes, the Speaker should assume the powers of the President.\"\n\n\"Did you say at 4:00 p.m. today, that's almost right now?\"\n\n\"Yes, 4:00 p.m., that is correct, that is what the White House press office has just reported to us.\"\n\n\"Roanna Jackson, do you find it strange that the President sent a letter, to the new Speaker, when that new Speaker was standing right beside him. Why didn't the President just tell him you will have to replace me.\"\n\n\"I suppose the letter was a formality, and we are just being told that the President did what he was required to do if he was unable to serve. That is, he needed to provide a letter notifying of his disability to the Speaker and President of the Senate. But yes, I find it strange.\"\n\n\"Stanley Worth, here again.\"\n\n\"Yes, Stanley, go ahead,\" said John Sanker.\n\n\"The White House press office release did not explain the situation, but only actually said that the Speaker of the House of Representatives would assume the 'powers' of the President at 4:00 p.m.\"\n\n\"Which now is just one minute away.\"\n\n\"Yes, so it seems to me that General ...or Speaker Pinchon is only going to be 'Acting President,' and is only using the powers of the President.\"\n\n\"It is somewhat confusing right now, but I suppose as long as President Woods is alive that is the case. Pinchon in his speech did say he wished Woods would be able to resume his duties.\"\n\n\"Roanna Jackson here, so who is President right now, is there some confusion, is it Woods or Pinchon?\"\n\n\"No, President Woods still evidently holds the office, but because of his disability, General Pinchon is using the powers of the presidency. Now if the President dies, I don't know what the actual situation is?\n\n\"We will need to get a constitutional lawyer to help us.\"\n\n\"You're right, and I am sure we will,\" John Sanker said.\n\n\"Stanley Worth speaks up, \"I have to go, those reporters who are still here in the White House have just been called into the East Room; we are to witness the swearing in of General Pinchon. It evidently is still to take place. I will get back to you as soon as possible.\"\n\nAs the reporters filed into the East Room, a long red velvet covered cord had been stretched to keep them from getting too close. They could see Charles Adams, and other White House staffers gather at the front of the room, along with a woman in a black judicial robe. Someone said the woman was Federal District Court judge Nancy Kogan. Almost immediately, and with a drawn face, General Bull Pinchon enters the room.\n\nThe General says, \"Let's do this.\"\n\nJudge Kogan steps up to him and says, \"Mr. Speaker, are you ready to take the Presidential oath?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have signed my letter of resignation as Speaker of the House, to take effect immediately upon the completion of my taking the Presidential oath.\"\n\n\"Very well, Sir, ...please repeat after me: \"I Ulysses Pinchon do solemnly swear ...that I will faithfully execute ...the office of President of the United States ...and will to the best of my ability, ...preserve, protect and defend ...the Constitution of the United States.\"\n\n\"So help me God,\" Pinchon added.\n\n\"Congratulations, 'Mr. Acting President.'\"\n\nOne of the White House aides spoke up and said, \"The oath wasn't taken on a Bible?\"\n\nPinchon responded, \"Well in our haste we overlooked that. But if I remember right, we would not be the first. I think I read somewhere that Teddy Roosevelt took the oath without a Bible, and I think it was John Quincy Adams who used a law book instead. But I included God. I said, 'so help me God.'\"\n\nWith that Pinchon turned to Adams and the assembled staff, and said: \"Let's get to work.\" He then wheeled around and walked out the door.\n\nAs they entered the outer office to the oval, Adams said, \"This is Mrs. Mary Margaret Roland. She was appointed Secretary to the President by Caroline Carr, and kept on by Adams.\"\n\n\"That is fine, you just keep on right there, Pinchon said, we need somebody around here who has been here at least three weeks!\"\n\nAdams, smiled and said, \"we are rather short on experience around here. Most of the staff came in with President Carr, and I came in three nights ago. But the staff does actually have a lot of experience in government.\"\n\nBull sat down behind the President's desk. \"I always saw this desk from the other side, and from the back of the room. It is bigger ...once you get behind it.\"\n\n\"The job you will find is bigger too. Many people have wanted to sit in that chair, behind that desk, but once some of them actually got there, they found the job was bigger than they even imagined. The events, trials, and tribulations of the whole world are going to be on your desk, and everybody wants you to always be right in your response, and will tell you if they think you got it wrong.\"\n\n\"One thing though, I will be living above the 'store.'\"\n\n\"Yes, but you will wish to get out of here. The White House becomes a prison to most Presidents. The Secret Service is going to try to lock you in here and throw away the key, especially after the assassination. You will get lonely, despite the constant flow of people through here. You can almost become a prisoner, cut off from the real world.\"\n\n\"You trying to scare me?\"\n\n\"No, but you may be lonelier still, as you are not married. When you go upstairs you are going to really be alone. Be sure to have some friends come up to see you.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I didn't slow down long enough to get married. Mind you, I didn't plan not to get married, I just didn't find anybody. I am a hard fellow, it would take a hard woman.\"\n\n\"Just be careful about loneliness.\"\n\n\"Generals do know a bit about that. You can't lead your troops into battle and not be lonely. You know when you order an Army to fight, many of your men are going to die. You cannot let somebody else give the order, the commander has to do it. You always feel alone, and responsible. That's why whenever possible I always demanded so much planning and preparation. Maximize the enemies losses, and minimize ours, I hate military funerals.\"\n\nMrs. Roland comes to the door, \"Agent Harry Thompson to see you, Sir.\"\n\nAs Thompson comes in, Adams says: \"This is the 'Agent in Charge' of the Secret Service's 'Presidential Detail.' He replaced the agent who was in charge during the assassination.\"\n\n\"Agent Thompson, I hear you are supposed to keep me alive; I hope you are very successful!\"\n\n\"Yes Sir! We are going to need to set up a meeting with you soon, and lay out our procedures in case of security issues that may occur, whether here at the White House, as you travel, or at public events. We want to let you know what we will do in those situations, and also hear your concerns. We will do our best to keep you safe, and meet your requirements.\"\n\n\"Right now I guess any threat would be against the President generically, as I have not been around long enough for someone to make it personal.\"\n\n\"Actually the internet has lit up with a lot of chatter, full of threats to you personally, Sir.\"\n\n\"Why, why would they react that quickly?\"\n\n\"First of all there are always unbalanced people who make threats, but some of these sound more concerning.\"\n\n\"Why concerning?\"\n\n\"Because they seem to be coordinated, there seems to be a group out there getting organized to take you out, because they do not believe you should be President.\"\n\n\"'Acting President.'\"\n\n\"Yes, but that subtlety escapes them. They claim you have usurped the office.\"\n\n\"Do they identify themselves at all?\"\n\n\"Only as followers of some kind of 'Patriotic Leader.'\"\n\n\"Okay then, keep me informed.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\nAdams said, \"It has begun, you haven't been here an hour yet, and the threats have started.\n\n\"Well, at this time the 'Acting President' cannot be seen hiding in the trenches, however let's not be foolhardy. But the nation has to see me acting as President, dealing with the nations affairs. So let's start.\"\n\nAdams just got three messages on his electronic device. \"It looks like that opposition is brewing. The TV is evidently reporting that the Pentagon has issued a news release, in the name of Defense Secretary Ishnik, that challenges General Pinchon's right to assume the Presidency, and states that he is not going to allow the White House to directly issue orders to American forces.\"\n\n\"What! I hope they got it wrong. I hope Ishnik is not going to go rogue on us. Turn a TV on let's see what they are reporting.\"\n\nAdams presses a button, and the TV pops out of the Cabinet and turns on.\n\n\"You are watching Network News and this is Breaking News. This is John Sanker in the newsroom. Today has truly been a tumultuous day in Washington, D.C. Ulysses Pinchon, a retired General, was sworn in by a federal judge to serve as 'Acting President,' after President Woods declared his own health disability.\n\nNow we are beginning to hear that some people are beginning to question the lawfulness of this, and others are perhaps going to outright challenge his legitimacy. Roanna Jackson at Capitol Hill, do you have anything to report on this?\"\n\n\"Yes, John. At least two members of the United States Senate are speaking out indignantly against what they call an end run around the American Constitution. They are saying that what Woods, Burlson, and Pinchon have done is unconstitutional and must not be allowed to stand. They are calling for the Senate to have an emergency debate about these circumstances, and are asking the House to do so too.\n\n\"Isn't that complicated, because the House no longer has a Speaker, since both Burlson and Pinchon have resigned that office.\"\n\n\"Yes, I do not know what exactly is planned about getting a new Speaker.\n\n\"Merv Tanner, our Pentagon Reporter, do you have any news about these stories.\"\n\n\"Yes I do. As we reported a few minutes ago Secretary Ishnik, in an official Defense Department news release, said he did not find the actions of President Woods, Speaker Burlson, and the House of Representatives to be constitutional.\"\n\n\"Did he say that directly?\"\n\n\"Yes he did. Moreover he plainly said that General Pinchon is not accepted as President of any kind, at the Defense Department.\"\n\n\"In other words the DoD does not care whether Pinchon is regarded as 'Acting President' or the President, they dispute both, and do not recognize him.\"\n\n\"That's right. And the DoD is not going to let him control troops, or give them orders.\"\n\n\"Amazing, this is going to be a massive story, unheard of in our history.\"\n\n\"...Adams turn that TV off,\" Bull said. \"I have heard enough. This has got to be brought to a head and quickly. If Ishnik is given a little rope he will hang us with it. We will see, if I can give orders to military commanders, and they obey them.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER ELEVEN\n\n\"Ishnik here, I want orders issued for all forces to go to DEFCON 3 alert status, increasing force readiness, and commencing exercise ROUNDHOUSE. It is to be emphasized that the chain of command runs through the Defense Secretary, and that they are to take no direct Presidential instructions. Yes send that out immediately in my name. ...Oh, and let the press know too.\"\n\nSecretary of the Army, Craig Strate, was sitting on a big stuffed chair in Ishnik's office, and said: \"That is going to bring this issue to a head. When they hear, it is going to tell the Congress that they have created a mess by their recent election of a new Speaker. ...And it is going to tell Pinchon, that he can expect real and effective opposition. A President cannot function if he cannot control the military.\"\n\n\"Exactly! I am going to force him to accept that if he cannot control the Armed Forces, he cannot control America. He will have to quit, or we will remove him one way or another.\"\n\n\"Congress too will understand that the DoD will not accept the Speaker to be in the line of Presidential succession. If we can neutralize State and Treasury, you can step in as President.\"\n\n\"Yes, I am to meet with the two Secretaries at 6:00 p.m. They should be on their way. If they do not sign a letter declining to replace Woods, we have a very \"undisclosed location\" waiting for them.\"\n\n\"For their own safety.\"\n\n\"Of Course.\"\n\n\"Get, General Yates in here, I want to hear how it is going with the Joint Chiefs, and also with the Army's readiness.\"\n\nStrate phones Yates, who after a few minutes walks into Ishnik's office.\n\n\"Mr. Secretary, should we have moved all the way to DEFCON 3 and exercise ROUNDHOUSE? That is going to rattle the Russians and Chinese, let alone our allies.\"\n\n\"Yes, General, I wanted DEFCON 3, and not 4. Four would have increased security and intelligence, but I wanted increased force readiness. I wanted everybody to know I am not playing games.\"\n\n\"Well,\" YATES said, \"That is what you got, the Airborne is on notice to be ready for immediate movement. They are sitting under the wings of their transport planes.\"\n\n\"How are the other Joint Chiefs doing?\"\n\n\"The Chairman is sick and in the hospital, his ulcers seem to have flared up. He looked fine to me yesterday. The Navy and Air Force Chiefs are following my lead.\"\n\nIshnik asked: \"What is the status of the Marine Commandant?\"\n\n\"He is not causing any trouble, I think he will stay out of the situation, and just stay neutral. Keep his head down in a fox hole. He is harmless anyway, after all his Marines are under various theatre commands around the world; he doesn't directly control their operations.\"\n\n\"Yes but I don't want him getting involved in any mischief.\"\n\n\"I don't think he will be any problem.\"\n\n\"O.K., let's move on. It looks like Olds and France have at least got Congress beginning to think again. They told me that there is a bunch of Senators, of both parties, that are incensed at what has happened. They think that the Senate and House's power to confirm a Vice President has been challenged.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Strate said, \"I personally talked with some Congressmen too, and they say even many members of the House are beginning to have second thoughts, and think that they got 'rolled' by both parties' House leadership. They are embarrassed that they acted so precipitously.\"\n\n\"They should be,\" Ishnik said. \"Did anybody think to check the Constitution? You have to wonder at the gullibility and simplicity of Congressmen. Yet you also have to be amazed at President Woods. He says he is dying, and I hope he is right; and yet he pulled together a plan, and a team to make that plan work. All from his bed.\"\n\n\"If it wasn't for you, Mr. Secretary, he might get away with it. He forgot that there still are people who love and will defend the Constitution.\"\n\nYates spoke up, \"and he doesn't know there's a whole 'Patriot Council' working against him.\"\n\n\"No, no he doesn't.\"\n\nThe phone rings, and the Secretary picks it up. \"Ishnik here. ...What do you mean they are not coming, I set the meeting up personally. ...They said they didn't want to be away from their offices during this crisis. Call them again, and tell them I need to meet immediately with them ..about the ramifications of these national and international events.\"\n\n\"What happened?\" Strate asked.\n\n\"Either somebody has sniffed something out and they are going to be against us, or State and Treasury want to stay on the sidelines too. The two Secretaries have canceled the meeting. They are not coming.\"\n\n\"This means if they are against us, that we cannot hold them, and keep them in a secure place. They will be free to either join with Woods and Pinchon, or maybe worse, use our constitutional argument to push forward their own claim to the powers of the President. That would be a problem.\"\n\n\"Well, if it comes to something like that, and they get rough, we will have to use the Airborne to convince them. I hope it doesn't come to that, because it could be messy.\"\n\n\"It certainly would look bad on TV, to have the Airborne taking over the State Department and Treasury.\"\n\nIshnik replied, \"I hope that doesn't transpire, but if it does, we will tell the American people the truth! We are simply protecting government Departments and federal officials, from capture by treasonous forces.\n\n\"Now I need to have some privacy. I have invited my old friend, Chief Justice, Harold Grantham to come to the Pentagon. I need to talk to him about some important matters.\n\nThe office empties, and Judge Grantham enters and Ishnik closes the door. The two men greet each other with clenched right hands, placed over their chest.\n\n\"Harold, I have kept you secret from the other Patriots, for such a time as this.\"\n\n\"I am glad you called for me, I am here to help. What do you want me to do?\"\n\n\"I want you to...\"\n\nMeanwhile, on TV, John Sanker is still reporting live, at Network News.\n\n\"John, this is Merv Tanner, I have received more information coming out of the Pentagon. An order has been made by the Secretary of Defense raising the DEFCON status of the Armed Forces to three. As you know five is the normal DEFCON status, and four, is above normal readiness. DEFCON 3 authorizes an increase in force readiness. It has rarely been authorized.\"\n\n\"What would it take to go to DEFCON two or one?\"\n\n\"John, that would only happen if things got a lot worse. Even way back in 2001, during the September eleventh attacks, the military was only placed on level three. It was the Cuban missile crisis that went to level two.\"\n\n\"Merv, isn't it highly unusual for the DEFCON level to be changed because of a political situation?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is! A thing like this has never happened! The DEFCON levels were not intended to reflect internal American political situations. It is also exceptionally unusual because the President did not issue the order.\"\n\n\"He didn't\"\n\n\"No, the DoD does not recognize the authority of the 'Acting President.'\"\n\n\"Did the DoD give any information as to why this step was taken, isn't it exceptional that a Defense Secretary acts without the consent of a President of the United States?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is John. The only thing I can say is perhaps it has to do with President Carr's assassination being unresolved; nobody knows whether foreign powers were involved in it, or would try to take advantage when America was confused over who was in charge.\"\n\n\"So you are saying that Secretary of Defense, Mitch Ishnik, is telling the world, don't try anything because he is in charge!\"\n\n\"That too, ...but it seems to me that he is really telling the White House, the Congress, and the nation, ...that he is in charge.\"\n\n\"Roanna Jackson, how is that playing over with the House and Senate? Will they accept that Mitch Ishnik is the man in charge? What do they think about 'Acting President' Pinchon?\"\n\n\"The reaction has been mixed, but things are in a lot of flux right now. The leadership of the House has been trying to defend Pinchon, but they are now getting a lot of flak. A lot of representatives in Congress have been having second thoughts, and buyer's remorse.\"\n\n\"You mean they think they did the wrong thing in making Bull Pinchon Speaker?\"\n\n\"Yes, that is right! A number of them have been influenced by the arguments coming out of the Senate, that the Speaker must be a House member, and that regardless, the Constitution requires a government 'officer,' in other words, a Cabinet Secretary to succeed the President if there is no Vice President.\"\n\n\"But there is a Presidential Succession Act passed by an earlier Congress, that puts the Speaker and President pro tempore into the line of succession.\"\n\n\"That is the point John, they argue the Presidential Succession Act has never been legally challenged in court and is unconstitutional, because it changes what the Constitution actually provided. They demand a return to constitutional authority.\"\n\n\"What does the Senate think of all this, their own President pro tempore was for this.\"\n\n\"Yes, but the Senate itself was not consulted about the succession, and they protect their turf. Many Senators are now complaining that President Woods and the House did an end run around the Senate, by having the House elect a new Speaker, simply to become the next President. They say that ignored and isolated the Senate.\"\n\n\"Stanley Worth here at the White House ...though the President's press spokesperson denied it, I suspect that is exactly what President Woods largely wanted to do. He did not want to go through a Vice Presidential nomination and confirmation process.\"\n\n\"He probably thought he did not have enough time, if he is dying.\"\n\nRoanna Worth answered, \"But the Senate, and now many in the House too, say that the Constitution still must be respected, and that a Cabinet officer must become, 'Acting President.'\"\n\nJohn Sanker said, \"So what is going to happen now? In the White House at this moment President Woods has signed a letter of disability, and turned power over to General Pinchon, I mean Speaker Pinchon. If Pinchon could not really be Speaker, or if the Speaker really is not in the line of succession, then who really has the powers of the President right now?\"\n\n\"That is the question,\" Roanna Jackson said. \"The Congress is going to meet to discuss that very question. Senators Olds and France are pushing the leaders of both parties in the Senate to come out against Pinchon.\"\n\n\"And interestingly, neither the Senate majority or minority leaders or the respective whips, were consulted or informed by President Woods about his plan and action. So they may be inclined to listen to France and Olds, two long serving Senators.\"\n\n\"That is sort of what I see happening too,\" said Roanna Jackson.\n\n\"Would that make Secretary Ishnik, the 'Acting' or real President?\" asked Stanley Worth.\n\n\"John, Let me jump back in on that,\" said Merv Tanner. I think the Defense Secretary may be the Cabinet officer to take on the Presidential powers, temporarily or permanently.\"\n\n\"Why is that,\" Merv?\n\n\"Because I do not think he would have taken this bold action, and in effect warned everybody about who controls the Armed Forces, unless, first of all he believed he should be the President; and two, he believes the Secretaries of State and Treasury will decline it, because of their inexperience.\"\n\n\"You raise another good point Merv. Secretary Ishnik has been at Defense for over four years. The other two Secretaries have been in their offices for only less than a month.\"\n\n\"Yes, and the one was a college professor, and the other was a banker. Neither had any experience in government, but were originally appointed by President Carr to bring in new blood and new thinking into her administration.\"\n\n\"But she didn't plan on them being President within the month.\"\n\n\"No she did not. Stanley Worth, what do you think will happen if the Congress changes its mind. Will President Woods be able to respond, or will General Pinchon go quietly?\"\n\n\"From White House sources, I would answer that President Woods is likely not to have much more ability to respond, if he wanted to. As far as for General Pinchon, he is so new here that nobody really knows what to expect.\"\n\n\"His nickname Is 'Bull,' and he earned that running through the front lines of opposing football teams. Do you suppose it might also be a metaphor for his attitude? What do you say from his years in and about the Pentagon, Merv Tanner?\"\n\n\"As a General, Pinchon was highly competent and successful. He is a brilliant military strategist. He did not get along with Mitch Ishnik. It was widely known in the Pentagon that the Secretary didn't regard him as a team player. The General would think his own thoughts, and often clashed with him over strategy. It also irked Ishnik that Pinchon was so revered in the Army, and remains so by most of the officer corps, and any of the troops who ever served under him. He gained that trust by his fairness, and by his care for the troops. He would stand up for them.\"\n\nJohn Sanker said, \"To all new viewers who may have just tuned in across America; the nation is in an unprecedented situation. We have a debate going on at high levels of our government as to who is, or should be, the President of the United States. No one knows how this is going to turn out. Both sides claim their actions are according to the U.S. Constitution.\n\nThis issue is probably heading for the U.S. Supreme Court.\"\n\n\"Perhaps not,\" said Stanley Worth. \"There are a number of things that may keep it out of the 'Supremes' hands.\"\n\n\"What would those be?\"\n\n\"The old axiom, 'possession is nine tenths of the law,' may be true in this case. As we have reported, Pinchon has just assumed the powers of the President. He is the 'Acting President!' If he were to be ruled by the Court to not be the 'Acting President,' no one else has those powers right now. The country would be without anyone running the White House and the executive. It would make a power vacuum. I don't know that the Court wants to be the cause of that.\"\n\n\"Wouldn't the President pro tempore of the Senate be sworn in to replace Pinchon?\"\n\n\"But remember, Ishnik is arguing that members of the legislature, whether of the House or Senate, cannot constitutionally succeed the President. If the Court decided to hear that argument, both sides would have to be heard from, ...and how long would that take? At the same time the nation is in crisis and its business needs to be taken care of. Who would be in charge?\"\n\n\"Well, couldn't a Cabinet officer step in and replace the General, ...I mean Speaker? ...Or whatever Pinchon is.\"\n\n\"That would be begging the question. Ishnik wants Pinchon gone. If the Cabinet overthrew the succession list that Congress itself enacted, that would be subject to court review as well. The government would be in chaos. There would be no certain head of state? No, I don't think the Supreme Court wants to go near this case, ...not now!\n\n\"Let me cut in here,\" said Roanna Jackson. \"If the Supreme Court were to hear this case, they would actually be meddling in the other two branches of the government ...the executive, and the legislative.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\nFor better or worse, the House of Representatives elected General Pinchon, Speaker of the House. Some of them may have second thoughts about that now, but events have overtaken them. It is too late to remove the Speaker. In fact, he already has resigned that position concurrent to his taking the Presidential oath. But for the Court to remove Pinchon, it would have to decide the House of Representatives did not have the right to choose its own officers. Then the Court would have to tell the Executive branch, its sworn in 'Acting President' could not serve.\"\n\n\"What do you think Merv Tanner?\"\n\n\"The Pentagon, I don't think is considering a court challenge, for part of the reason Roanna gave. They are afraid that if the situation is not changed immediately, Pinchon will remain President. From what I have heard, they do not think there is time to go and argue about it.\"\n\n\"So what will the Secretary of Defense do?\"\n\n\"That is what everybody wants to know?\"\n\n\"Wait, hold everything, this is John Sanker, at the anchor desk of Network News. We have more 'breaking news.' The AP, the Associated Press, has just reported that Secretary Ishnik is going to speak from the Pentagon press room in two minutes. We are obviously going to cover that speech live.\"\n\n\"Yes, John, I just got pinged that same notice. I guess we all wondered what Ishnik would do, and now he is going to tell us himself.\n\n\"You are right Merv Tanner, at the Pentagon. We won't need to speculate much longer ...excuse me, the Secretary has just stepped to the microphone, let us listen...\"\n\n\"Americans throughout the nation, in big cities, and small country hamlets, from the far north, to the deep south, from the Atlantic to the Pacific; are all distressed at the calamity that has befallen our nation.\n\n\"Our President, Caroline Carr, was killed by an assassin's bullet. Vice President Woods succeeded her in office. Evidently as it is now reported, his health has incapacitated him, so that he is unable to lead our nation through its crisis. He finally realized that he must pass the office over to another, and sought to do it by seeking to manipulate the House of Representatives to appoint a new Speaker, of his choosing, for the express purpose of taking on the Presidential powers.\n\n\"I do not challenge his desire for successful leadership, nor his daring in seeking to achieve it by this spectacular process. I will even accept that he did it thinking he was doing good for America. But my countrymen, what he planned and thus far brought about, is not good for America, because it violates the great Constitution our forefathers made as a foundation for the nation. If something is not constitutional, it is not good.\n\n\"Many people have read the Presidential succession list created by Congress. After the Vice President it places the Speaker of the House and President pro tempore of the Senate next in line, followed by Cabinet officers. However, Congress was only authorized by the Constitution to make a succession list from federal officers, in other words Cabinet officers. Congress did not have the right to make members of the legislature part of the executive. They cannot serve in two branches of the government at the same time. The Speaker cannot become President. If the Speaker resigns to become President, he no longer meets the qualifications even of the unconstitutional legislation.\n\n\"Therefore, though General Ulysses Pinchon took the oath to be 'Acting President,' it is impossible for him to hold that office, according to the Constitution of the United States,.\n\n\"The Secretary of Defense is a constitutional federal officer, third in the line of succession to the presidency of his fellow officers. The Secretaries of State and Treasury precede him. However, the occupants of those Departments are new to the Cabinet, having served for less than a month. Both of the Secretaries, while having high integrity, are totally inexperienced in government. They have acquiesced to those who do not follow the constitution, and have not put themselves forward instead of the Speaker.\n\n\"Therefore, I am announcing that, as next in line, I will in a few moments assume the powers of the presidency, and will serve as 'Acting President.\" If President Woods dies, I will succeed him outright. I call on the nation to close ranks with me. We will together succeed in routing all enemies of our nation, whether within or without.\n\n\"I call upon the rest of the Cabinet, of Presidents Carr and Woods, to remain in their place, fulfill their responsibilities, and keep faith with the nation's trust. I appreciate their anticipated cooperation.\n\n\"I also call upon the press, and all media, to exercise restraint in the coming days, so as not to incite or inflame any who might be tempted to oppose constitutional government. Any such opposition will be met with the full powers of the government.\n\n\"As Secretary of Defense, I have already made sure the Armed Forces of our great country. I have also placed them on a higher alert than normal, to warn any possible enemies that we are ready to defend ourselves.\n\n\"As well, for the security of the government I am temporarily ordering various Army units to take up positions throughout the District of Columbia, and northern Virginia; and around some federal departments and agencies, as well as the Capitol building, and court houses. They will take up their deployments overnight. While this is unusual, it is simply to insure the safety and security of federal workers, from those who would lead the nation away from right.\n\n\"I now invite Chief Justice Harold Grantham, of the U.S. Supreme Court to come to the microphone, and in your sight administer to me the Presidential oath.\"\n\n\"Mr. Secretary, are you prepared to take the Presidential oath?\"\n\n\"I am Judge Grantham, let us proceed.\"\n\n\"Then repeat after me: ...I, Mitch Ishnik, ...do solemnly swear ...that I will faithfully execute ...the office of President of the United States ...and will to the best of my ability, ...preserve, protect and defend ...the Constitution of the United States.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWELVE\n\nAt 4:00 a.m. the next morning, the National Security Director enters Bull's bedroom and wakens him.\n\n\"Mr. President, there is a phone call from Secretary of State, Dabold.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mrs. Roland....Hello, Mr. Secretary.\"\n\n\"Mr. President there are Army units surrounding the State Department! They have not entered the building, but they have control of all points of entry.\"\n\n\"Mr. Secretary, has there been any gun fire, any violence?\"\n\n\"No Sir, they are armed with rifles, but I have not seen any tanks or heavy equipment. For the moment no one is coming into the building, and no one has yet tried to leave. I have ordered the doors locked, and sensitive documents placed in vaults.\"\n\n\"Has any contact been made with the troops?\"\n\n\"No Sir, they have not tried to speak with us.\"\n\n\"Do you know what units they are from?\"\n\n\"My security chief says it looks like they are a unit from the Airborne.\"\n\n\"O.K. I guess I should have known that when Ishnik spoke on TV yesterday, that he was not bluffing. He said he had ordered the Armed Forces to 'protect' key government buildings. You may find little comfort in this, Mr. Secretary, but in fact the Defense Secretary said that he was protecting you.\"\n\n\"From whom is he protecting us?\"\n\n\"I think for certain that he is protecting you from me.\"\n\nJust then the Deputy Chief of Staff came to Bull's bedroom. \"Mr. President, I am now notified that military units are surrounding the office buildings at State, Treasury, Justice, Commerce, Labor... and according to this text message, now the White House and Executive Office Building too.\"\n\n\"Yes, Secretary Dabold has just been telling me about troops at 'Foggy Bottom.'\"\n\nJust then there was a big noise and shouting, and six men burst through the bedroom doors. They seized President Pinchon by both shoulders and began pulling him towards the door from which they had just entered. Agent-in charge, Harry Thompson said: \"Mr. President , we have to go to a secure room. There is a coup' dètat against you, we are under attack, and you are in danger. We have to get out of here, and to the basement.\"\n\nPinchon yelled out, \"No, no! Stop. I am not going to the basement. I am the 'Acting President' of the United States, and I am not going to be hiding or cowering before danger. If there is a coup, then we have to fight, but I am not convinced that the situation is lost, or that I am in danger right now.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, there are armed soldiers outside the White House gate, and Secret Service Agents with drawn machine guns at the gates and at the fence, and on the roof. There is a tense standoff, and shooting could commence at any moment.\"\n\n\"No one has opened fire yet have they on ...either side?\"\n\n\"No Sir, we have not opened fire, and neither have they, but Sir, we cannot allow them to control access to the White House, or constrict your freedom of movement. If we were right now to bring Marine One onto the south lawn to fly you out, you would be subject to sniper fire, and the chopper would be vulnerable to shoulder fired missiles. For the present we have to at least secure you in the White House until the coup is put down, or we can by some means extricate you from here.\"\n\n\"It is the Army that is outside the fence, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President, it is a unit of Airborne troops.\"\n\n\"Well, we are not alone, these units are reported to be situated from here to Foggy Bottom; they have surrounded most government offices. But while this may be an attempted coup, I doubt these specific soldiers really mean to be involved in such.\"\n\n\"What do you mean Mr. President?\"\n\n\"These Airborne troops, and their officers are young American soldiers following orders through their chain-of-command. These soldiers are not involved in devising coups, let alone pulling them off. They wouldn't knowingly do that. They have been told that they are doing good and saving the government and nation ...from being taken over unlawfully and unconstitutionally. They are simply doing what Secretary Ishnik has ordered them to do.\"\n\n\"But Sir, they are still there, and you are still in danger.\"\n\n\"I am an Army man. You cut me, and I will bleed Army, and I bleed with the Army. These soldiers are the same. I do not want us to start shooting at them and wounding and killing them. They will respond then with what they have been trained to do, shoot and kill their enemy. We do not want to provoke them, we cannot defeat them with force! Moreover, we do not want anyone's blood spilled around here, not civilians, not Secret Service Agents, not soldiers, and not mine either. No, we have to talk to these soldiers; we have to engage them.\"\n\n\"Sir! How do you propose to do that? We are in confrontation with them right now.\"\n\n\"Ishnik would be only too happy if we opened fire and killed some troops. He would use that to confirm that we are the ones trying to pull a violent coup ourselves, and that he has sent the Airborne to stop us. No, order your agents to put their guns back in their holsters, and to withdraw from being so close to the fence.\"\n\n\"But Sir, we have a duty, and responsibility to protect you.\"\n\n\"Yes, you do have a duty, but I am 'Acting President,' and I have the ultimate responsibility. The Army outside has not tried to enter the White House or its grounds. They haven't entered the State Department at Foggy Bottom ...or any of the other places they have surrounded. If they had tried to, they could have controlled many of those buildings by now. No, Ishnik has told them to surround these locations hoping to provoke us into shedding American blood. I want to save lives, while stopping this coup d'état. ...I believe I know how to do it, and it is not done by me going to the basement or you starting to shoot.\n\n\"Mr. Adams, are there any General officers in the White House right now, for any reason? If so bring them to me. ...And tell the White House and Executive staff to stay low, and out of sight, let it look like we are working as normal as possible.\" Adams went out the door, and the President continued speaking.\n\n\"Mr. Thompson, I want you to keep a tight rein on your agents. You are going to need to stay in the White House. I am going to want only one agent to go with me.\"\n\n\"...Go ...with you, Mr. President. Where are you going to go?\"\n\n\"Why I am going to go out and talk with those soldiers.\"\n\n\"You are going to go outside the White House?\"\n\n\"Yes, and outside the fence, we have to talk with these troops.\"\n\n\"Sir, I cannot let you do this, you will be captured or killed ...they are trying to take over the government.\"\n\n\"Secretary Ishnik is trying to take over the government, these soldiers are not. I trust them. This is an Army of true American patriots. Everyone of them enlisted into the military. No one forced them, no one drafted them, they joined. They are willing to go into harm's way for the sake of their nation, if necessary to die for their nation. They did not join up to overthrow the government.\n\n\"What is more, every man and woman in the Armed Forces, in order to enlist took an oath. No one entered the military without an oath. Mr. Thompson, I am sure you are ex-military, do you remember the enlistment oath? The President is not the only one to have an oath. Each enlistee says: ' I,\" and they state their name, \"do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.'\n\n\"I am going to go out there, as President of the United States, and give them orders that they have sworn to obey. I am going to countermand all earlier orders given them by their officers. I am going to take charge of the Airborne units.\"\n\n\"But they do not recognize you as President of the United States.\"\n\n\"I don't know that. Nobody has asked them whether they do. Events have happened so fast in the last twenty-four hours that they may not even know what is going on.\"\n\n\"But Mr. President, if they don't know ...then they don't know you are President either.\"\n\n\"They may not know that I am President, but even now, many soldiers remember Bull Pinchon, and their officers especially do. They know I have lead them, fought with them, been wounded with them, and would never dishonor the Army. If Adams finds me some Generals, I am going to borrow something from them. I need their stars! I was rousted out of Hawaii without my baggage. I am going to go out and meet the troops as a civilian, in a normal suit. But I am going to put four General's stars on my lapel. I know it may not be kosher, but I want them to know that this President has been one of them, and I bet soldiers will still salute me, and still will obey.\n\n\"I am then going to let them support and defend the Constitution of the United States, by acknowledging my lawful succession to the presidency; and then I am going to give them the chance to fulfill their oath and obey the orders of the President of the United States.\"\n\nAdams returns to the Oval Office, with a Major General who was in a meeting in the National Security Office.\n\nPinchon said, \"General, we have a problem outside, and someone needs to go out there and talk with them.\"\n\n\"I will go, Sir. I will try and get them to stand down.\"\n\n\"Thank you General, but I am the one who must go out there. But I need to borrow something from you.\"\n\n\"Sir, what do you want from me?\"\n\n\"I need your stars, General.\"\n\n\"My stars?\"\n\n\"Yes, you are a two star Major General, and if you loan me two from each shoulder, I will have four. I want to put them on my lapel, to remind them who I am, and what I am.\"\n\n\"...Yes Sir, I will remove them for you. I hope it works\"\n\n\"Agent Thompson, I only want one other person to go with me.\"\n\n\"I will go with you sir.\"\n\n\"No, Agent Thompson, I want you directing your agents, and keeping everyone here safe. I want agent Melman to go with me. He has shown himself useful, and I want him.\"\n\n\"Agent Melman ...yes Sir, I will send for him immediately, he is up on the roof right now.\"\n\n\"Well, get him here as soon as possible. ...Is the Secretary of State still on the phone? Yes, ...good give me back the phone. Secretary Dabold, sorry for the interruption. Yes, you have been overhearing some of the conversation. Good. I want you to make sure that your security people do not go outside and challenge the Army units. If at all possible, let's not have any American lose his life today. ...Thank you Mr. Secretary.\" The President hung up the phone.\n\n\"Here are the stars, Sir.\"\n\n\"Thank you General, you earned them, and I hope to give them back to you safe and sound.\"\n\nAgent Thompson comes into the room with agent Melman right behind.\n\n\"Melman,\" said Pinchon, \"I need you to go on a little stroll with me. However, I want you to leave your weapons here.\"\n\n\"I could conceal a weapon,\" Melman said.\n\n\"No, we cannot get the drop on an Army unit, and we cannot overpower them, or out shoot them, so leave the guns behind. If we succeed in our mission, it will be by reason, and an appeal to duty and honor. And if we fail, a dozen weapons won't save us.\n\n\"...If that is what you want, Sir, I will do it. But I hope we don't regret it.\n\n\"Adams, turn that TV back on, maybe the news media will tell us something useful about what is happening outside the gates.\"\n\nAdams turns the TV on, and Network News is in the middle of a report by Stanley Worth, Senior White House Reporter.\n\n\"...from where I am standing just outside the perimeter of troops surrounding the White House, I can see lights on there, but no one has appeared recently at any door or window. The Secret Service agents who were standing with machine guns at the fence have withdrawn and are also out of sight. I can see a couple of people on the White House roof looking through binoculars, but I see no weapons.\"\n\n\"Stanley, this is John Sanker, at the anchor desk, are you able to enter the White House grounds?\"\n\n\"No, John. When we heard that troops had surrounded the White House and other government buildings, I rushed down here. I was able to get fairly close, and the troops told me I could report, but that I was not to cross their lines. But, if I could cross, the gates of the White House grounds appear to be locked too.\"\n\n\"Merv Tanner breaking in here, the Pentagon says it has issued orders that the Army is to allow reporters to film and report to the nation what is going on. The spokesman said that the media would be allowed to report the events, but that reporters were not to be inflammatory or speak in a way that would scare the American people. He went on to say that these Army units were simply keeping the government safe from unlawful interference from those who would corrupt the Constitution.\"\n\n\"What does that mean, Merv?\"\n\n\"I think it means that the Pentagon wants us to assure the people that all this military action, while unprecedented, is not going to change this republic, its government, or the freedom of the people.\"\n\n\"Stanley Worth here again ..I have just seen an Army Hummer pull up here in front of the White House, at the north gate, ...and what appears to be an officer get out.\"\n\n\"Can you tell what rank the officer is?\"\n\n\"It looks to me like he is a colonel. He is directing his men, and he sometimes is speaking into what looks like a phone or walky-talky.\"\n\n\"Can you tell me the mood of the troops?\"\n\n\"They seem quite organized, efficient and professional. They have taken up their positions, but have not sought to directly challenge or assault the Secret Service agents ...especially the heavily armed agents, who just a few minutes ago stormed to the White House fence. There is no yelling, or stressed talking among the troops.\"\n\n\"Wait just a second John, the White House door , on the north side, has just opened, and two men in suits have stepped outside. They stood for a moment by the columns on the porch, and now they are walking calmly down the sidewalk towards the gate.\"\n\n\"Stanley, can you see who the men are?\"\n\n\"No, for the moment they are too far away. As they get closer I may be able to tell. ...They have now reached the gate, and have called to the officer that I spoke about. ...Wait! Wait! The two men are coming out of the gate and are walking towards the officer standing at the Hummer.\"\n\n\"Can you see yet who the men are?\n\n\"The one fellow I don't recognize ...no. The other fellow ...Wow! ...Amazing!\"\n\n\"What Stanley, who do you see?\"\n\n\"It is President Pinchon himself!\"\n\n\"Merv Tanner breaking in here, the Pentagon refers to him as just Ulysses Pinchon, or retired General Pinchon, they do not acknowledge that he is President or even 'Acting President.'\"\n\n\"Roanna Jackson here, ...and at the Capitol, some here call him Speaker, and some call him President, and others call him an usurper.\"\n\n\"Well, whatever you call him, he is standing outside the gate of the White House talking to this Army officer,\" said Stanley Worth. Worth raises his voice and says, \"The three of them all just walked over to the Hummer, got in, and are driving off in the direction of Foggy Bottom.\"\n\n\"Did Pinchon seem to have been arrested, was he hand-cuffed or anything? Did he seem to be disconcerted?\"\n\n\"No, I didn't see anything like that. The three stood for about two minutes talking near the White House gate, and then quietly, and apparently freely, the two men joined the colonel in the vehicle and they drove off.\"\n\n\"Did any of the troops then enter the White House grounds?\"\n\n\"No, everybody stayed where they were on both sides of the fence. Nothing has changed in that situation.\"\n\n\"That is astounding, Mr. Pinchon, either 'Acting President,' or Speaker of the House, or retired General, came out of the security of the White House and got into a military vehicle and drove off! What does it mean?\"\n\n\"It may mean that the Pentagon has prevailed,\" said Merv Tanner. \"Pinchon may have realized he could not prevail if the military was cutting him off from his government, he may have decided to cut his losses and go quietly.\"\n\n\"Merv, is that the disposition you would expect from a man called, \"Bull Pinchon.\"\n\n\"No, actually it is not! As a General he was always quite strategic and bold. He never quit. If he believed he was right, he stood his ground and was willing to fight it out. That is why Secretary Ishnik pushed him into retirement. The Secretary did not consider him a team player.\"\n\n\"But you still think Pinchon may have just decided to call it quits and surrender himself to the Army?\"\n\"Well, again, this is just speculation, but maybe he analyzed the situation, and realized he had overstepped, and the situation was hopeless, and decided to end the matter without a bunch of people getting killed. At least that would fit his character of taking care of his people.\"\n\n\"I see what you are saying, but we do not know...\"\n\n\"No, no we don't.\"\n\nMeanwhile, down at Foggy Bottom, outside the State Department, the Hummer has pulled up in front of a grassy area where a big green tent has been erected. Pinchon and Melman get out of the Hummer and walk over to the tent, and go through the doorway, followed by the Colonel.\n\nPinchon spoke up, \"Harry, is this your posh headquarters?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes it is; it's just like home,\" said: Major General Harry Ucclese. \"You are out of uniform.\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" Bull said, \"but as you may have heard, I have a new job that means I wear a regular suit now. I was glad I met Sanchez at the gate. I didn't know he had made Colonel, or that you had gotten your second star. He was a captain years ago when you both were on my staff.\"\n\n\"And I was a Colonel, soon to be a Brigadier. That was a while back. My second star happened two months ago. The Secretary had been pushing for a number of promotions well before the last election.\"\n\n\"General, you served me well in war, I need you to serve me well in peace, I need you to withdraw these troops from D.C.\"\n\n\"I have been ordered here to secure these buildings.\"\n\n\"And you have come and fulfilled your mission, and now I am ordering you to move back out.\"\n\n\"That will be awkward, considering I have just been ordered to enter the State Department building and then the Treasury too, and secure the safety of the two Secretaries.\"\n\n\"Harry, who issued those orders?\n\n\"The chain of command, but the orders came from Secretary Ishnik.\"\n\n\"You aren't ordered to take over other Department buildings, or the White House?\"\n\n\"No, the orders are just to take State and Treasury.\"\n\nBull said, \"Harry, I know this is called 'Foggy Bottom' because that is what this part of D.C originally was, a foggy bottom piece of land. And I know after the State Department Building was built here that the phrase became a play on words for foggy thinking at the State Department. But you and I don't think 'foggy.' We think clearly, and we know what is going on.\n\n\"General, you have been ordered to seize these two Departments and their Secretaries because they pose a challenge to Ishnik's plan to become President. The Secretaries of State and Treasury are constitutional officers who are ahead of the Secretary of Defense in Presidential succession. He wants you to capture them, so he can put them on ice, so they cannot interfere.\"\n\nUcclese replied, \"Things are getting complicated around here. Soldiers like me are not supposed to have to consider political matters, or wonder who is in charge, or why orders are given. We are supposed to receive orders from our superiors and obey them.\n\n\"Now, President Woods has maneuvered you in a position to hold the powers of the President. And Secretary Ishnik has declared that this is unconstitutional. And as a soldier I am being asked to referee this match.\"\n\n\"Harry, President Woods conceived the idea of getting a new President because the nation didn't have the time necessary to go through a nomination and confirmation process. The House of Representatives, the people's House, freely, by their own vote elected me Speaker, and that placed me at the head of the Presidential succession list. It may be unique, but it is not unconstitutional for the House to do that.\"\n\n\"But what about this matter that Cabinet Secretaries are federal officers, and Speakers of the House are not. ...And that members of the legislature cannot be federal officers.\"\n\n\"Various people have argued that, but not very much or loudly, until now. But arguing something doesn't prove it. For years these laws have been on the books, and no one successfully challenged them. If someone still wants to question these laws, the courts are open to them. But in the mean time those people who challenge the constitutionality of the succession act cannot set themselves up to be the ones to overthrow an established government. That is not how our system works.\n\n\"I am sorry the Army has been dragged into this process, or that you or any soldier has to make a choice in this matter. However, I did not do that to you, Secretary Ishnik did, when he sent you into Washington. You and your soldiers are going to have a big impact on how this thing turns out. You cannot be neutral; your action or inaction is going to affect the outcome.\n\n\"Was it constitutional for the House of Representatives to elect, by their free vote, their own Speaker? Who could say anything different. Was it constitutional for the President to declare his inability to serve because of his health? It certainly was. Under the Constitution was it proper for the Congress to set the list for Presidential succession? Yes it was.\n\n\"Then I am constitutionally serving as 'Acting President' of the United States, and the Army is duty bound to obey my commands.\n\n\"Harry, you know me, you served under me, and was able to observe me very closely. Do you think I have taken on this office for myself? Have I decided to usurp someone else's position to become President? I was asked by President Woods, and lawfully chosen by the House for this purpose. I am serving this nation, not myself; just as you are doing now.\n\n\"Mitch Ishnik is a brute. He bullies people into doing his will, or he gets rid of them. His definition of loyalty is for someone to mindlessly do his will. You are not serving Secretary Ishnik, you are serving the nation. If he has gone beyond his responsibilities, and issued unlawful orders, you don't have a choice, you must not obey those orders.\"\n\n\"Bull, you know the consequence for any soldier, of any rank, to willfully disobey a superior's direct order.\"\n\n\"Yes, I do. You either get a court martial, or a medal. Harry, you are sworn to protect and defend the Constitution. Those are not just words, and they are not just theoretical. Right now, you have to decide what you and your men will do in defense of the Constitution!\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER THIRTEEN\n\nJudge Grantham, after administering the Presidential oath, extends his hand to Mitch Ishnik, and says, \"Congratulations Mr. 'Acting President,' serve our nation well!\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Justice, for your service to me and the nation. May God bless our nation, and all its patriots, may His frightening power fall on all of Americas enemies.\" Ishnik then turns from the cameras and leaves the room, and along with Secretary Strate and General Yates, returns to his office.\n\n\"If I am now the 'Acting President,' I am going to act as President! I am going to act against our nation's enemies, so that the people will unite behind me.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" asks General Yates.\n\nFor three weeks North Korea has been shooting artillery at South Korean islands that they say belong to the North. The Communists also have been seizing South Korean fishing boats they say are actually involved in spying. Satellites show the North has moved troops closer to the Demilitarized Zone. I don't know if they think they can do what they want because the U.S. is distracted with our political problems...or if the Koreans are the cause of our leadership problems, but I intend to show them that the U.S. is still alert and able to respond.\n\nYates interjected... \"Did I understand you right, are you saying you think the North Koreans are responsible for the assassination of President Carr?\"\n\nIshnik replied, \"I don't know, I didn't say that, but it is a possibility. I mean no one has claimed responsibility, but the lack of evidence points to a highly sophisticated organization, probably with military and intelligence capabilities....The North Koreans could have done this. They could have even gotten help from other renegade nations, maybe the Iranians, or Syrians.\"\n\n\"Maybe the radical Uzbeks, or even the Chechens,\" said Secretary Strate. \"Those two have fought the Russians in Russia, and made attacks in Moscow. They could have helped the North Koreans at Mobile.\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" said, Ishnik.\n\n\"That would mean war!\"\n\n\"Yates, I am not sending us to war yet, don't get too agitated.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"This situation permits me to do two things. First, I can give orders that demonstrate at home and abroad that I am actually the 'Acting President,' not Pinchon. At the same time, I can also demonstrate that I am going to be strong against anyone who harms America or its allies or interests.\n\nCircumstances have given me a convenient opportunity to do both. Two days ago the aircraft carrier James Monroe, and its battle group, left from a port call in Japan. They are supposed to be heading south to rendezvous just off Guam, with naval units from Australia, Thailand, India, and the Philippines. The joint forces are to conduct a mock assault on the island of Luzon. I am going to order the Monroe group to quickly turn northwest and sail through the South China Sea and into the Yellow Sea off the west coast of Korea. I will also issue a warning to North Korea that if does not stop its provocative actions, the U.S. is prepared to punish them severely.\"\n\nYates said, \"Won't that raise a Chinese response. They don't even accept that our carriers and ships are allowed in the South China Sea, let alone in the Yellow Sea, and especially to threaten their ally and Communist neighbor.\"\n\n\"Yes, I am counting on the Chinese to react. That will motivate the American people, the Congress, and Cabinet officers to necessarily back me as leader because I am standing up to Communist aggression, and the possible assassins of our President. After a short period of stand-off and tension, we will make another agreement with the Chinese and the two Koreas to restore the stalemate. But I will have acted as President, and by this the nation will see me as being President, and I can dispose of Pinchon as an unconstitutional usurper. Don't worry Yates, I know what I am doing, now you go and keep the rest of the Joint Chiefs on board.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir,\" Yates says, and heads out of the office.\n\nWhen he and Ishnik are alone Secretary Strate says, \"That is the first time I have seen General Yates get a little skittish. He never thought that the North Koreans could be behind President Carr's assassination. ...And he really didn't like the idea of rattling the chain of the Chinese.\"\n\n\"Yes, I saw that too, but Yates is a soldier, and especially a General. I have known him for years, and he will do what he is told to do, especially when I am the one telling him. No, Yates is a soldier, a sword, and an arm, to do what he is told.\"\n\n\"I hope you are right, especially if he ever finds out what we have not told him.\"\n\n\"He doesn't need to know about that. Only the two of us, along with our two Senate friends, and Chief Justice Grantham, have knowledge of all that we have done to achieve our goal for America. The Patriot Council while useful, does not know everything either. They are all just necessary followers. They don't think these things through; we do! We are the intellect, the mind; we are the ones who will bring America back to greatness....But now we have to act quickly, and get our plan in motion, we must not give Pinchon time to show himself a President too, or to consolidate power.\n\n\"Strate I want you to leak to the media that a foreign intelligence agency is claiming they have evidence that the North Koreans were involved in the Carr assassination. Say we have not been able to see or confirm that evidence yet, but we take such information very seriously, considering North Korea's recent military belligerence since the assassination. That information ought to spread like wildfire. Just make sure the leak cannot be traced back to you.\"\n\n\"Right, and I will have Senators Olds and France raise the matter in the Senate, and call for both Houses of Congress and all the American people to back President Ishnik at this dangerous time.\"\n\nA short while later on TV, at Network News.\n\n\"...Merv Tanner here, I am getting information ...from sources ...that is very disturbing.\"\n\n\"What is the information, Merv?\"\n\n\"John, sources are saying that a foreign spy agency has passed on intelligence that the North Koreans were behind the assassination of President Carr, and that they may have been assisted by other nations or militants.\"\n\n\"That would be astounding,\" said John Sanker. \"Do you know who the foreign intelligence agency is, or who they say the militants are that assisted the North Koreans?\"\n\n\"The information is sketchy, but it is reported to have come from unnamed friendly Arab security agencies, passing on information that they have gleaned from interrogating captured foreign militants.\"\n\n\"Merv, who might that be?\"\n\n\"Well the Saudis, or the Yemenis might do this, or the Moroccans. It also could have been the Egyptians or Libyans, but since their uprisings years ago, their intelligence agencies aren't as close to us as before. The Afghans aren't Arab, but their interrogations could have raised some of this intelligence too. My sources haven't said where it came from, or they don't know for sure.\"\n\n\"Yes, Roanna Jackson, go ahead from Capitol Hill.\"\n\n\"John, it's amazing, we have a crisis going on at the White House and outside the State Department, with troops and 'Acting President' Pinchon going out and meeting with someone about something. Now we have this startling news coming at the same time.\n\nHere at the Capitol, Senators France and Olds have just issued a statement that they too have heard from unnamed sources, of this possible North Korean involvement. They are calling on the nation to stand united against Communism, aggression, and an attack on our nation's President. They are calling on 'Acting President' Ishnik to investigate this information and act in the interests of our nation and democracy.\"\n\n\"They called on 'Acting President' Ishnik to investigate, not 'Acting President' Pinchon?\"\n\n\"Yes, John, these two Senators have made it quite clear that they do not accept Pinchon as 'Acting President.' They say that Ishnik is the Constitutional successor of President Woods.\"\n\n\"Stanley Worth here, John, I am still standing a distance away, outside the White House fence watching the situation here, and wondering what is going on down near the State Department, where 'Acting President,' or Speaker, or General, or just Mr. Pinchon, seems to have gone. The situation is growing more significant because events are happening that means that the nation and the world needs to know who really has the powers of the President. Is it Ulysses Pinchon or Mitch Ishnik? Right now I do not know!\"\n\n\"Neither do I, and if we do not know who is 'Acting President,' does the American Armed Forces know, do our friends and enemies know ...the American people certainly do not know.\"\n\n\"No John, they cannot possibly know, this is unprecedented. It is necessary to ask the question in such a situation; who is in charge, which President does the Armed Forces, and for that matter, the government take orders from?\"\n\nMerv Thompson spoke up, \"I would expect the military and Pentagon would turn to Mitch Ishnik.\"\n\n\"What about Pinchon's relationship with the troops as a much respected General?\"\n\n\"Pinchon has that going for him, all right, but he has been retired for a while. Besides there is not just the Army to consider, but also the reaction of the Air Force, Navy, and Marines. I still think that Ishnik gets the support of the military.\"\n\n\"That could prove critical in the short term, John Sanker said, because the Army is already in the streets of the capital. The military may decide who leads our republic.\"\n\nRoanna Jackson chimes in, \"Congress will not be happy with the Armed Forces being the decider of this issue. The houses of Congress are elected by the people, and they will want to make that decision.\"\n\nStanley Worth, the White House reporter, said, \" those that support Pinchon argue that the House of Representatives already decided the issue when they elected the General to be Speaker, and then President Woods incapacity made him 'Acting President.'\"\n\n\"But there are regrets over here, and the House is already having second thoughts about that,\" Roanna said.\n\n\"Buyers remorse it may be, but they did what they did, I don't know if the House can turn around and change it now. If you buy something, and then think you made a bad deal, you still own it.\"\n\n\"If you made a bad deal on something you return it where you purchased it and get your money back ... it happens all the time, we all do it, so the House can change its mind.\"\n\n\"But where do you return an 'Acting President?' ...and how do you do so? You cannot just \"un-elect\" him from being Speaker, ...besides, Pinchon resigned that position concurrent with the moment he took the oath of President. Do you then have to impeach him, that would take time and considering past impeachments be a fractious activity in the House, and not necessarily lead to a conviction in the Senate. And what would you charge him with?\"\n\n\"You would charge him with usurping the Presidency,\" said Jackson.\n\n\"But the House elected him Speaker, and then he succeeded to the office. So the House would in effect be charging him with doing what they knew and elected him to do. That is strange.\"\n\nJohn Sanker joined in, \"And Stanley Worth may have a point, how do you impeach Pinchon. It seems to me that if the House impeached him, it would first necessarily be recognizing that the General, or Speaker, actually was the 'Acting President.' Otherwise, how can you impeach a President who is not really the President?\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" said Stanley Worth. \"There is another point too. Some in the House may talk about buyers remorse, but there are a couple other phrases that come to mind. One is, 'If You Break It, You Bought It!' Yet another is 'possession is nine-tenths of the law.' The House broke it, so the House bought the Presidency of Pinchon, and cannot try and welch on the deal. ...And it is going to be difficult to dislodge the man who already is in the White House.\"\n\nJohn Sanker said, \"Well Pinchon was in the White House, but he is not there now, he stepped out! Right now we do not positively know where he is or what he is doing, or able to do. He left the White House, apparently agreeably, got into an Army vehicle, and drove towards the State Department. We do not know if the colonel that was seen, arrested him, if Pinchon is still in Foggy Bottom, or if he is able to exercise any authority.\"\n\n\"This is terrible. This is not how our government is supposed to work. The Constitution, and the laws of this land, are supposed to keep us from this chaos. We are not surprised at what goes on in many backward countries; we hear and see the effects of rigged elections, coups, and counter coups, often followed by another rigged election. We are looking foolish to the world.\"\n\nMerv Tanner said, \"Worse! America is looking weak. And that may well be why in this time of crisis they turn to the sure hands of Mitch Ishnik.\"\n\n\"I think you underestimate the strength of our constitutional system,\" said Worth. \"I think also you vastly underestimate the man who is called \"Bull.\"\n\nFor those just joining in, this is John Sanker, at the anchor desk of Network News. We are following unfolding live events. At this moment we have a very confused situation. The nation has two different men who have been sworn in by two federal judges to serve as 'Acting President' of the United States. We have then seen 'Acting President' Pinchon drive away from the White House to whereabouts unknown. We have also learned that 'Acting President' Ishnik has begun issuing orders to the military about an international incident relating to North Korea.\n\nObviously they cannot both be' Acting President.' Stay tuned to Network News for continuing coverage of these unprecedented events. Your nation's future depends on what happens now.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER FOURTEEN\n\nMajor General Harry Ucclese, said, \"It is a dangerous thing for the military to decide who ought to be President, and who ought to be government. Militaries of the world who have taken on this responsibility have often found it difficult to resist the temptation of having intervened once, not to do it again and again. Many nations have seen coups, counter coups, and even more coups, led by Generals, colonels, or even sergeants. Military governments usually follow.\n\n\"The military becomes the institution that sees itself as the preserver of the nation. Then if the Armed Forces oppose the decisions of any future government, they either force them to change policy, or overthrow them. Once an Army starts on this path, it tends to stay on it. That is not the way America works. American governments are chosen by the people at elections. The American Armed Forces stays out of politics, picking governments, or overthrowing them.\"\n\n\"Usually, but not always!\" Bull, said. \"...American Armed Forces decided we would have a government in the first place, during the Revolutionary War. If the war had been lost, another government would have been imposed on America.\"\n\n\"But the government that formed was civilian made and lead!\"\n\n\"Yes it was. We did not become a militaristic nation.\"\n\n\"And we mustn't now!\"\n\n\"Agreed! But the American Armed Forces decided who the government would be during the Civil War, too. The Confederacy said that despite an election, Lincoln was not their President, and Congress was no longer their legislature. The military settled that issue.\"\n\n\"And then got out of the way.\"\n\n\"Exactly! ...Leaving the people to elect civilian representatives and Presidents to run the country. Considering as much as happened, I suspect many countries would have fallen under a military government. But not the United States. In the North, and in the South, there was a belief in the people, and in elections deciding things. Strong Generals, Admirals, officers, soldiers and sailors, believed in our republic, and representative government, not in military governments.\"\n\n\"But, Bull, you are asking me, a two star major General, to decide who the President is. Who elected me or gave me the authority to make that choice?\"\n\n\"The American people did! Through their elected representatives they formed these Armed Forces, and then sent their sons and daughters to serve in them. They made everyone who became part of the military to take an oath that they would protect and defend the Constitution. They not only need you to make a choice now, they demand you do so; and that you make the constitutional choice. They don't want you to choose between \"two Presidents\" because of their policies, because of their charisma, or because you like or dislike one or the other. They don't want you to make your pick because you are afraid of the consequences. They want you as a soldier to defend the Constitution.\n\n\"As a soldier, and a General, you have to make a pick, because you have to decide whose orders you will obey. The Bible says that 'No man can serve two masters,' and we know you can't serve two Presidents.\n\n\"Ishnik, has decided that he is going to overrule the lawful vote of the people's representatives in the House. He has decided that I could not be made Speaker, and that even if I were, it would not matter because he has declared that the Speaker could not succeed the President. He has also decided if the latter is true, that the Secretaries of State and Treasury, are not going to be President, though they are ahead of him in order of succession. No, by his own authority, apart from the Constitution he has decided that he is going to be President, and he has sent you and the troops to accomplish his will.\n\n\"If you send your troops into the State Department, and then the Treasury Department, and seize those Secretaries; if you arrest me, the lawfully made 'Acting President,' you have pulled a coup d'état, against a constitutional government. You will have opened that Pandora's box of military installed government.\"\n\n\"But I would be doing the same thing if I withdrew my troops, I would be giving you the Presidency.\"\n\n\"No, no you wouldn't. That was done by the Constitution, and the laws of the land, abetted by a free vote in the House of Representatives. You cannot make me 'Acting President,' you can only keep me from serving.\"\n\n\"What about 'Acting President' Ishnik? What do I do about him?\"\n\n\"Right now I am not asking you to do anything 'to' him. I will have to handle him. You just need to do your duty and refuse an unlawful order. It's tough, I cannot promise your career won't be affected, that he won't turn on you. In the immediate future your very life might be in danger. But you will be doing right, maintaining the Army's place in the nation, and your own personal honor.\" With a small smile Pinchon said, \"...And who knows Harry, if I survive, there could even be a medal in it for you.\"\n\n\"Yah, Yah, considering your present situation, that medal could be a bullet in my heart ...from a firing squad! Have you considered that with or without me your situation is not too good. Ishnik has more troops to command if I do not do his bidding.\"\n\n\"I am going to have to be bold, and take charge of the situation. I am going to have to turf him out.\"\n\n\"That is going to be easier said than done. You don't have an Army, Navy or Air Force.\"\n\n\"But I have the Constitution, the law, and right on my side, and therefore I believe that I have the people on my side. If I have all that, I believe I will have the rest of the military on my side too. I have great confidence that Ishnik has greatly overreached, and that he is going to yet do so even more.\n\n\"So General Ucclese, what are you going to do? You have to choose right now which side you are on?\"\n\nUcclese, wrinkled his brow and said, \"In all my life, and in all my days as a soldier and an officer, I never in my wildest imagination thought I would face a decision like this. I have fought the enemy in hand to hand combat, left my blood on the battlefield, and required others to spill theirs, I have sent men out to face death; but I have never willfully disobeyed an order from my commander.\"\n\nAs Colonel Sanchez watched, Major General Ucclese turned and faced Pinchon, saluted smartly, and said, \"Mr. President, I and my troops are at your command.\"\n\nPinchon asked, \"You have been listening Colonel Sanchez, what are you going to do, are you going to try and arrest us both?\"\n\n\"No Sir,\" Sanchez said, as he too saluted, \"It's a terrible situation for a soldier to be in, but I accept that you are the lawful President.\"\n\n\"'Acting President,' because Woods is just incapacitated.\"\n\n\"The need for us to follow your orders is the same.\"\n\n\"Good, General, I need Sanchez to take me back to the White House. So we do not spook Ishnik yet, or have him try to arrest you or send more troops in. I propose that you and your men stand your positions for a few more hours. In fact, I will have the Secretaries open the doors of the federal department buildings, and your men go into the lobbies. That will be reported by the news, and Ishnik will think you have done what he commanded.\n\nThat will buy us a little time, and may motivate Ishnik to show what he is planning next.\"\n\n\"But Sir,\" Colonel Sanchez said, \"if you walk in the White House, everyone will know that we have not arrested you. Will it not follow that we are not following our commanders orders?\"\n\n\"General Ucclese, were you ordered to arrest me?\"\n\n\"No Sir, I had no instructions concerning you. I am sure they never imagined that you would walk out of the White House.\"\n\n\"Well then ...you can tell the press that you simply returned me to the White House, and that your troops remain around the perimeter. Let them imagine what they will ... hopefully that you are still confining me there.\n\n\"Colonel Sanchez, let's go, I need to get back to the White House to calm their worries there. They did not like me coming here, particularly the Secret Service. I brought agent Melman with me, as my 'security' detail.\"\n\n\"You were only facing the Airborne!\" Ucclese said.\n\n\"General, you have confirmed my faith in the Army, and in the entire American Armed Forces. They are the greatest in all the world, not because of their numbers or equipment, but because of their heart, courage, and honor. You have brought honor on yourself to stand with our republic, and to disobey an unlawful command.\" Pinchon returned a salute and wheeled around and followed Sanchez to the Hummer.\n\nAs they were driving back, Pinchon asked Sanchez, \"How did your units get here so fast? Even the Airborne takes longer to deploy than this. You were here almost as soon as Ishnik broadcast that he was sending the Army into D.C.\"\n\n\"Sir, we were secretly pre-deployed down at Quantico. We didn't fly in, or parachute in; we just drove in. This operation was planned well before today. In fact, we had practiced this kind of an operation six months ago, and even had advance teams make two quiet reconnaissance missions around the capital, so that we knew where we should deploy.\"\n\n\"How could that be? Ishnik didn't know what was going to happen. I mean he didn't know back then that President Carr would be killed, and that Woods would get sick, or that the House would elect me Speaker. He could not have anticipated all those events. So how is it he had you guys good to go?\"\n\n\"My understanding is that it was part of a contingency plan in case of a national emergency. We have plans for invasions of Port-au-Prince, and capitals like that. We have even done that mission. But we had never had plans for one like this.\n\n\"I know General Ucclese thought it highly unusual, and was disturbed by it. When General Yates came by our base four months ago, General Ucclese said he had never been involved with such a plan before. Yates said it came right from Ishnik himself. That the Secretaries of Defense and also the Army, had thought it appropriate to make plans for extraordinary events. Yates admitted that he had never before ordered making such a plan, but that Ishnik was always thinking way ahead.\"\n\n\"So this mission came from way back then ...from Ishnik and Strate? ...And Yates was just sending it down the chain of command. It didn't come out of the Army's strategic planning.\"\n\n\"Not this plan. Yes, that's right.\"\n\n\"That does not add up. I mean what kind of national emergency was Ishnik planning for. If it was a hurricane or natural disaster FEMA would have run it. If it was a case of riots, the police would handle it. How was he foreseeing the events of today. Right now I don't know what it adds up to, but I am going to find out.\n\n\"Colonel, let Melman and me out at the north gate of the White House. You stay with your men, but let the news media ask you what is going on. Tell them, that General Ucclese's units are entering the State Department and Treasury Department. Tell the media that he had ordered you to bring me back here, and that your men would remain surrounding the White House and Executive Office buildings.\n\n\"... And quietly tell your men not to provoke the Secret Service, or get too close to the fence or gate. I don't want there to be any confusion that leads to anyone getting shot.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\nWith that the vehicle arrived at the White House, and Pinchon and Melman got out and walked over to the gate. Agent-in-charge, Thompson, had joined the uniformed Secret Service agents out in the gatehouse, and was nervously chomping on a big wad of gum.\n\n\"Thompson, you look nervous, did you not think you would see me again,\" said Pinchon. \"Melman kept me safe.\"\n\nThompson said, \"I did not know where you had gone or whether you would be back. I cannot protect you out there.\"\n\n\"Right now, if these troops were very insistent, I doubt you could protect me in the White House.\"\n\n\"Events have occurred, Mr. President, that mean you especially need to let the Secret Service keep you secure.\"\n\n\"What has happened?\" Pinchon asked.\n\n\"Let's get you safely in the White House first,\" Thompson said, as he encouraged Pinchon up the sidewalk to the North Portico.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER FIFTEEN\n\nMitch Ishnik spoke into the phone, \"Strate, have you seen the TV reports? Network News is saying that Pinchon left the White House and had some kind of meeting. It sounds like he may have met with some Army officers. ...Yes, that would not be good, not if he turned them, and they are now on his side. ...I want you and Yates to get right on this. Let me know as soon as you have information.\n\nI have just spoken to the Navy Chief. The James Monroe's carrier battle group has turned north and is moving at high speed towards Korea. Yes, my aides are getting the President of China on the phone, as we speak. I will let you know how it goes.\"\n\nSuddenly an aide comes into the Secretary's office, and says, \"Mr. Ishnik, the President of China is on the phone.\"\n\nIshnik walks to his desk and picks up the phone, Mr. President, this is Mitch Ishnik. Because of President Wood's incapacity, I am now the 'Acting President' of the United States.\"\n\n\"...Yes, Mr. President, your ambassador is correct, retired General Pinchon is claiming to be the 'Acting President,' but by our Constitution I am the actual successor to President Woods. ...Yes Pinchon is functioning from the White House, but I have control of the government; Pinchon will be arrested by my forces shortly.\"\n\n\"...No, Mr. President, do not be alarmed, this is not a coup' dètat, this is the constitutional transfer of power through proper succession. I can assure you that I am taking control of all government Departments, and that I have the complete backing of the military command. In fact I am presently in the Pentagon, with its full capabilities under my direct authority.\"\n\n\"...Your ambassador is correct, there has been conflicting information as to what has happened, and that is why I phoned you, so that there will be no confusion as to who exercises the powers of the President. ...I am in command of the American Armed Forces, and the nuclear codes; no one else is.\"\n\n\"...Mr. President, I have phoned you also to emphatically declare that the actions of the North Koreans are unacceptable and intolerable. They have resorted to military aggression against South Korean territory, and on the high seas against South Korean vessels. That must stop immediately, and the United States told them so last week at a meeting between negotiators at Panmunjom.\"\n\n\"...Yes Mr. President, but they have persisted, and now also we have certain intelligence information, that North Korea was involved in the assassination of President Carr. ...No I will not reveal the source of that intelligence, but I believe that it is reliable.\"\n\n\"That may be Mr. President, but we are acting in our interests and the defense of our nation and allies. ...You need to know, that China is not endangered, and is not being challenged by the military actions of the United States, but that a nuclear armed naval battle group, headed by the aircraft carrier James Monroe is sailing through the South China Sea to enter the Yellow Sea off the west coast of the Korean peninsula. We mean China no harm, and are only concerned about North Korea's provocative actions.\"\n\n\"...Yes I know China protests our ships presence in those two seas, but our ships are in International waters, and they are responding to hostile military action of the North Koreans. Surely China does not think that a great nation as America would turn its back on our South Korean allies.\"\n\n\"I am sorry to hear that, for it will only make the situation more dangerous for everybody. ...If Chinese ships or aircraft interfere or attack the American fleet, the blame for the consequences will rest entirely on China.\"\n\n\"...China may not proscribe where American ships are allowed to sail in international waters, and especially when defending our South Korean ally.\"\n\n\"Once again, Mr. President, the American forces are not seeking confrontation with Chinese forces. We are not seeking to attack China; we are responding to North Korean aggression.\"\n\n\"I will speak with you again, after you talk with your ambassador here in Washington. No, it is not possible for him to meet with me at the present. Perhaps by tomorrow when I will be in the White House itself. ...Good bye, Mr. President.\"\n\nStrate and Yates came walking into the Secretary's private office, just as he was hanging up the phone. Ishnik was smiling broadly.\n\n\"I think I just convinced the President of China that I am the President of the United States, and that I am in control of all American Armed Forces. ...that if he wants to deal with the American government, he must deal with me.\"\n\n\"Did he object to the naval unit going into the Yellow Sea,\" asked Strate?\n\n\"He went off like a Chinese firecracker on that. He was incensed and said China does not allow the American fleet up there. He threatened to send forces to protect China from attack. He tried to assure me that North Korea would cease its shelling of the islands, and that our fleet should stay away.\"\n\n\"So what did you tell him?\" asked Yates. \"We do not want to start a shooting war with the Chinese. We are not ready for that right now.\"\n\n\"I left him hanging, our fleet is still moving north towards Korea. The Chinese President and I are supposed to talk again in the next twelve to twenty-four hours. By then I hope to be in the White House. That will help me further convince him that I am actually the President.\"\n\n\"'Acting President,' Yates said.\n\n\"Yes, 'Acting President,' Yates, but I doubt the subtlety of the difference between 'Acting' and 'President' matter much to the Chinese President. He wants to know who is in charge here, and who he must negotiate with. He wants to know if his opposite is a wimp, or a tough guy. I think I showed myself to be a tough guy.\"\n\nYates said, \"Did you raise the issue of whether the North Koreans were involved in President Carr's assassination? That is a big issue!\"\n\n\"Yes, I raised that. He said he did not believe that accusation was true, and asked where the intelligence came from. I assured him that it was from reliable sources, but I wasn't prepared to tell him who supplied the information.\"\n\n\"Who did supply the intelligence data?\" asked Yates?\n\n\"I will keep that to myself right now. I have told Strate, he knows too, but who supplied it is very sensitive; they did not want it out that they told us, as it could cause real trouble for their country.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir. I am just concerned that they got it right. I mean if it causes us problems in Korea and then China, we must make sure that it is right.\"\n\nSecretary of the Army, Strate, spoke up, and said, \"General Yates, it's right! It's solid, good intelligence, from reliable sources. The North Koreans did it. President Ishnik will handle the situation, you will see. We won't have a war with China.\"\n\nIshnik said, \"Yates, right now I am more interested in what your Airborne unit is doing in D.C. than what China may do eight thousand miles away in the South China Sea.\"\n\n\"What's the problem,\" Yates asked?\n\n\"Haven't you been hearing the TV news, Ishnik says. Network News is reporting that Pinchon is outside the White House, and that he is meeting with some of the troops.\"\n\nJust then, Strate said, \"In fact, they are now reporting that Pinchon has come back and re-entered the White House.\"\n\n\"What is going on?\" asked Ishnik. The troops are supposed to bottle up the White House, and take control of the State and Treasury Departments! Yates, what are they doing? If they were talking to Pinchon, that is very bad.\"\n\nStrate said, \"If they were talking to Pinchon, they should have arrested him. Then we would have ended the controversy of who was President.\"\n\nYates said, \"But your orders that were transmitted to General Ucclese did not include that they were to arrest General Pinchon!\"\n\n\"That is because I never thought that Pinchon would be stupid enough to present himself on a platter to the General,\" said Ishnik.\n\n\"It should not have taken much imagination on Ucclese's part to figure out that if the man he had encircled in the White House was now in his personal control, that he should be held, and contact made with us,\" said Strate.\n\nYates replied, \"Ucclese is a good soldier, a good commander, he will follow his orders, as he knows them. But if he wasn't told to arrest Pinchon he didn't. But from what you said, Ucclese still is keeping Pinchon bottled up in the White House.\"\n\n\"You aren't going soft on us are you, Yates? Pinchon was your old commander and still is your buddy.\"\n\n\"I like Pinchon,\" Yates said, he was a good soldier, and served his nation in war. I had no idea he was going to somehow become involved as an alternative 'Acting President.' I never saw that coming, but he is a good man, and I believe can be reasoned with to do the right thing. I believe he will ultimately recognize that Secretary Ishnik constitutionally ought to be the one taking on the powers of the presidency. Bull never was a politician or wanted to be one. He always disliked politicians.\"\n\n\"He also always disliked me,\" said Ishnik. \"I never did trust him.\"\n\n\"He could be stubborn,\" said Yates, \"but I believe he will submit to constitutional authority. ...And if he finds out the North Koreans have killed an American President, he will ask permission to be re-commissioned to go fight them.\"\n\n\"Right now, I just want him out of the White House, and under control. That opportunity was missed by General Ucclese,\" said Ishnik. \"To say the least I am disappointed.\n\nYates, I want you to go and give crystal clear orders to every officer, that if they ever have the chance, they are to arrest Pinchon, and everybody else in that White House. We cannot leave any confusion in the minds of the Chinese, or Russians, or North Koreans as to who is President of the United States.\"\n\nStrate said, \"Even our friends need to know. The Brits, the Germans, even the Canadians, ...the confusion must end ...Pinchon must be wound up.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, I will go issue the orders.\"\n\nAfter General Yates left, Ishnik turned to Strate and said, \"You keep an eye on that man. He is going weak on us. He is concerned about the Chinese, and the North Koreans, but he is not concerned about Pinchon. It is the Army taking care of itself. It is one General protecting another General.\"\n\n\"Yates will be O.K.,\" said Strate. \"He crossed the Rubicon with us a long time ago, Like Caesar; he cannot go back now. He is just having to reconcile his mind to the fact that Pinchon has to be dealt with. Yates never expected that, but neither did we.\"\n\n\"Who would have thought that President Woods would pull Bull Pinchon out of the air.\"\n\nStrate said, \"I will make double sure that the proper orders go out to the Army, and though I think it unlikely, I will make some contingency plans to deal with Yates, if he were to leave the reservation.\"\n\n\"Good, do that, I will feel better for it. I need to contact Senators Olds and France, and get them to press the Senate at least, to get that \"sense of the Senate\" motion passed. If the Senate were to recognize me as President, it might grease the wheels in the House, ...and it would help me with the Chinese President.\n\n\"Doesn't the House still have to elect another Speaker?\"\n\n\"Yes, and some of our new friends are working hard to make sure that they don't put Ryan Burlson back in the Speaker's chair again.\"\n\n\"Why would they even think of doing that? He was involved in Woods unconstitutional maneuver, almost from the beginning. They no longer like that outcome, so surely they will not put him back in.\"\n\n\"They are working on it, but Burlson still has friends in the House, he has been there forever. If the Senate speaks, I think it may turn the balance in our favor in the House.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER SIXTEEN\n\nAs soon as Pinchon had walked inside the White House, and gone through the lobby, agent Thompson took him into a side room and shut the door. Another agent took up a position at the door.\n\n\"What's going on,\" said Pinchon.\n\n\"Mr. President, President Woods, passed away just after you left the White House. You are no more 'Acting,' but 'President.'\"\n\n\"Who else knows about this? Has there been any kind of announcement?\"\n\n\"No Sir, until we knew your situation we decided to say nothing.\"\n\nJust then an agent knocked and then opened the door; Charles Adams walked hurriedly into the room. He said, \"I presume Agent Thompson has informed you President Woods has died.\"\n\n\"Yes, Pinchon said, we owe him our thanks for preparing for this moment.\"\n\n\"We were beginning to think it might have been in vain.\"\n\n\"Why, said Pinchon?\"\n\n\"Because if you were detained, and unable to return and fulfill your duties, we were going to have real problems. If the Cabinet had to meet and then agreed that you were unable to serve, seeing there is no new Speaker of the House yet, the next in line of succession would have been the President pro tempore Richard Sharon. Since he had said before that he would decline to serve, for age and health reasons, that would have meant Secretary of State Dabold would become President. But he was being bottled up by troops, and so was the Secretary of the Treasury, so Mitch Ishnik at Defense would have had a good chance at becoming President.\"\n\n\"I see why you didn't announce President Wood's death! That would have been awkward.\"\n\n\"It would have been tragic,\" said Charles Adams, \"...rewarding a man who prevents others from serving, by making him President. It would have thwarted Woods plans and desires, and made Ishnik look legitimate. We are to say the least relieved to see you back. How did you manage?\"\n\n\"I met two officers that as it turned out had served under me some years ago, when they were at lower rank. Colonel Sanchez is in charge of the troops just outside the White House, and his commander, Major General Harry Ucclese, has set up his headquarters just outside the State Department in Foggy Bottom.\"\n\n\"Did they recognize Ishnik as 'Acting President,' or you?\"\n\n\"Charles, I laid the situation out before them, and both of them were convinced by the facts, and recognized me as 'Acting President,' and declared that they would follow my instructions. They are brave men, because they know that they are disobeying direct orders from their chain of command, running right up to Ishnik himself. They could be shot, if Ishnik's plan succeeds.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, does that mean the troops will withdraw from the White House, Foggy Bottom, and other parts of D.C.?\"\n\n\"No, Agent Thompson, I asked them to remain in place, so as not to tip our hand to Ishnik. I have already talked with State and Treasury by phone, and have told them what I have arranged. The General's troops are going to enter the two Departments. The news media is being informed that the troops are entering the State and Treasury Department buildings, for the security of everyone there.\"\n\n\"Are my agents free to come and go from the White House; if we desire, could we bring Marine One in to helicopter you to a safer location?\n\n\"For the present I want your agents to remain in the White House, and keep a low profile. I want it to look like we are bottled up in here. The media is also being told that while I was allowed to come back here, that the Airborne troops have a perimeter around the grounds. My hope is that the reporters, and also Ishnik will assume that I am limited in movement and ability to act.\"\n\n\"Very well, Mr. President, I have to go and instruct my agents.\" Agent Thompson said, as he left the room.\n\nCharles Adams spoke, \"We still have to move quickly to stop the Secretary of Defense from grabbing power. I don't think we can rely on many in Congress to go out on a limb and speak in your favor. The House leadership will, as they promised, but many of the House have been having second thoughts, and claiming they moved too rapidly, in electing you Speaker. In fact, Senators France and Olds are pushing in the Senate to have them pass a \"sense of the Senate\" motion, that Secretary Ishnik is the Constitutional successor to Woods, and therefore is the 'Acting President.'\"\n\n\"I am sure they will drop the word \"Acting\" as soon as they find out Woods is dead.\"\n\n\"Precisely!\"\n\n\"Do I need to take the oath of office again, since President Woods died?\"\n\n\"No Sir,\" Adams said, \"your oath to assume Presidential powers on President Woods disability, also is valid now that he has died. No new oath is required.\" Pinchon and Adams, then leave the side room, and walk down the White House corridor, and through the secretary's office, and into the Oval Office. Mrs. Roland, said, \"we are glad you made it back safely, Mr. President.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mrs. Roland, there's a lot more we have to do now before this situation is right.\"\n\nAn aide to Adams came into the room, and whispers in Charles's ear. Charles frowns and says, \"Mr. President, the situation has gotten worse. Evidently Secretary Ishnik is now acting like he is President. He ordered the James Madison carrier battle group to turn north into the South China Sea, and go up into the Yellow Sea, off the west coast of Korea. He is threatening retaliation against the North Koreans because of their shelling of South Korean islands, and the seizing of some fishing boats.\"\n\n\"The shelling of the islands, and the fishing boat matter, that has been going on for a while?\"\n\n\"Yes Mr. President, for about three weeks. Just after President Carr was killed. But Ishnik is upping the ante. He is now also accusing the North Koreans and others of possibly being behind Carr's assassination.\"\n\n\"Did we have any intelligence information intimating at that before?\"\n\n\"No Sir, that is right out of the blue. If you ask me Ishnik is simply throwing that out to further justify his military announcement, and try and get the American people riled up enough at the North Koreans, to decide they better fall in line behind him as President.\"\n\n\"Ishnik's plans always were intended to make him look good. He didn't care how many soldiers or sailors were sacrificed to do it. But this is the second strange thing I have heard tonight.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, how is that?\"\n\n\"Well, I was talking with Colonel Sanchez as we drove back from Foggy Bottom to the White House. I asked him how the Airborne got so fast from their base in North Carolina to D.C.? I mean they were here almost as soon as Ishnik announced on TV he was sending in the troops.\"\n\n\"I wondered about that too, and never knew how it was done.\"\n\n\"It was done, because Ishnik had secretly pre-deployed the troops down in Quantico, and they simply drove to D.C in trucks and Hummers. They didn't have to come from their home base at all.\"\n\n\"That doesn't make sense, Mr. President. Why were they pre-deployed? How could the Secretary of Defense know he would need soldiers in the capital?\"\n\n\"It doesn't make sense, unless Ishnik was planning to take over the government anyway.\"\n\nAdams said, \"Well, he detested Woods being Carr's running mate. He thought Woods was incompetent. ...And he sure didn't like Woods succeeding Carr. I was told by the Chief of Staff, that Ishnik was trying to put pressure on Woods to consider firing the Secretaries of State and Treasury and then resigning. This was right after Mobile, right after the assassination.\"\n\nPinchon said, \"That makes sense, with his argument about Federal Officers being Cabinet Secretaries, being the only Constitutional successors to the presidency, which shows that he was already conniving to become President.\"\n\nAdams went on, \"That was the night that Woods tumor caused the stroke. Then in the days after that, while Woods was still able to think and communicate, but did not want to meet with him, Ishnik daily, began demanding meetings with the President. That is what motivated President Woods to develop his plan for succession, and bring me in to accomplish it.\"\n\n\"But,\" Pinchon, said, \"Ishnik was already preparing the Airborne to come in and make him President. He had even months ago, been preparing the troops to take over D.C. They did quiet reconnasance missions. He just needed to manufacture something to justify a military putsch so the Army would obey.\"\n\n\"And when Woods plan was announced, and you were elected Speaker, he declared himself to be defending the Constitution by stopping you from succeeding Woods, and usurping the presidency. He then sent the troops in ...they were sitting ready to go. ...But what is the second matter you said was strange.\"\n\n\"How did the Defense Secretary know the North Koreans were going to make a provocation, and just happen to have a carrier battle group handy to send after them?\"\n\n\"Mr. President, do you think he engineered this Korean crisis, to coincide with a carrier group's, port call in Japan?\"\n\n\"I think he is fully capable of doing that. But as big a question is, how did Ishnik also know that President Carr would be killed?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" Adams said, \"maybe Ishnik just took advantage of that to put his plan into action. Maybe that was just an unexpected opportunity.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but maybe not, the Ishnik I know is meticulous in his plans.\"\n\nJust then, the National Security Adviser and the Chief of Staff came into the Oval Office. \"Mr. President, the Chinese are going off like rockets. Their official media are broadcasting that the U.S. is directly challenging the security of China, while threatening their ally in Korea. They say the carrier battle group must not proceed further through the South China Sea, nor enter the Yellow Sea. The Chinese say that any consequences for what happens will be the fault of the United States.\n\nThey are also saying that the government of the United States appears to be disintegrating, and they are not even sure as to who to speak to about the issue. They note that there are now three Presidents over one country. One President is sick, and two more are claiming his powers. They say a President may be trying to create an international incident so as to solidify power in Washington.\"\n\nPinchon said, well they may be right on the last point. I need to phone the President of China.\"\n\nThe National Security Council Adviser said, \"What are you going to tell him, that you have a rogue Cabinet officer trying to start another Korean War?\"\n\nThe Chief of Staff said, \"And how will you explain the chaos in the American government right now? How will you convince him that you have the power and ability to control the military at this given moment? I mean ...what would we think and do if the situation was reversed?\"\n\nPinchon said, \"I don't have any choice in the matter. Ishnik will surely be calling the Chinese President soon. He will claim to be the American President, and in control of the military, and will try and negotiate with the Chinese President an end to this crisis. It will make him look to everybody to be the President.\"\n\n\"But can you say that you can control the American side of this crisis,\" asked the NSC Advisor? \"How can you stop Ishnik pushing the buttons at the Pentagon?\"\n\n\"Fire Ishnik,\" said Charles Adams. \"Remove him from his being Secretary of Defense.\"\n\n\"How do you effectively do that?\" said the NSC Advisor. \"He is in the Pentagon, and already has said that he does not recognize General Pinchon as the constitutional and legitimate President.\"\n\nThe Chief of Staff suggested: \"The President is going to need to go on television, make his case, and then before the American people, fire the Secretary of Defense.\"\n\nCharles Adams spoke up, \"But in the mean time the President of China is preparing a possible military response against our sailors.\"\n\nPinchon said, \"No, this matter has to be settled, and settled soon. I have to talk with the Chinese President, and buy a short bit of time ...a day or so. I will have to convince him that I am \"the\" President, and that I am going to control the American military. I met him briefly, about four years ago in Beijing, when I was there meeting my Chinese counterparts. Some of his Generals know me, and he will have them telling him about me right now.\n\n\"After I deal with the President of China, then I will have to deal with the so-called 'Acting President' of the United States, Mr. Ishnik.\n\n\"Now get me the Chinese President on the phone.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER SEVENTEEN\n\nArmy Secretary Craig Strate walked into the office of the Army Chief of Staff, William Yates. Strate had just finished a brief meeting in Secretary Ishnik's office, and wanted to talk further with General Yates. He walked into the outer office, and found the General there, speaking with some of his staff.\n\nYates said, \"I have issued instructions to send out orders again to all troops, that they are to contact their chain of command if they receive any communication or orders from the White House; and that because of the present constitutional crisis, all military orders must come from the Pentagon.\"\n\n\"That's good General, have you also issued orders that if apprehended they are to hold retired General Pinchon, and any senior White House staff?\"\n\n\"That is also included in the orders, but that was personally hard for me to make, and it will be hard for many officers to obey.\"\n\nStrate said, \"That is what soldiers do, they obey orders, not question them.\"\n\n\"Yes, but they do have to believe the order is 'lawful,' Yates said. \"Neither the nation nor the capital are under martial law; troops are not allowed to arrest or hold citizens within the United States; so I believe that a number of officers, let alone the troops, are going to question the lawfulness of my order.\"\n\n\"That could cause real trouble,\" said Strate. Officers that do not obey superiors' orders, are destroying military discipline and order. If they disobey one order, they may find themselves willing to disobey another. They may set themselves up to analyze every order they get, and then obey some, and not others. How could you run an Army that way?\"\n\n\"You can't,\" said General Yates. \"An Army cannot function if every officer and every soldier \"decides\" which orders to obey. But at the same time everyone in the military is bound by oath to only obey orders that are in accordance to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.\"\n\n\"But they are not lawyers, and when given orders they do not have the ability or time to judge every order as to its lawfulness. They have to obey!\"\n\n\"Officers have been convicted for obeying unlawful orders. It's tough, but it has happened. Just saying, 'I was obeying orders' doesn't cut it, if the order was illegal in the first place. It happens in war, and it happens in peacetime too. If I were to order soldiers to open fire on a group of citizens demonstrating peacefully on a street corner, that would be an 'unlawful order.' I could be court-martialed for giving the order, and they could be court-martialed if they obeyed it and opened fire.\"\n\n\"Yah, yah, I know that,\" said Strate, but armies function only on discipline and order ...orders maintain both. Yates, do you think your order is unlawful?\"\n\n\"I honestly don't know! I have never been in this kind of situation before, and never have given such an order to arrest and detain civilians. I don't know if it's legal; it smells bad to me. I suspect it will smell bad to other officers and soldiers too.\"\n\n\"Then they better hold their nose, and do what they have been told.\"\n\n\"That is usually what is done.\"\n\n\"Yates, Ishnik questioned whether you were going soft on him. Are you more loyal to Pinchon than to President Ishnik?\"\n\n\"I believe this nation has been going downhill for a long time, and that politicians have been weakening America's Armed Forces. I believe that Ishnik will change that, and that he is standing up for the Constitution. But I have for twenty years been a friend of Bull Pinchon. He was my commanding officer, and my rise in the Army followed his. I always found him true Army, and a true friend. It does bother me that he and I are on different sides now.\n\n\"When we started on this road with Ishnik, we did not have any thoughts of putting troops in the streets of Washington, and arresting Cabinet officers, White House Staff, and retired Generals. We didn't know then that Carr would win the election, be assassinated, be replaced by Woods, who would then get sick, and call in Bull Pinchon. We didn't know that the North Koreans would be involved in the assassination, and that we could be moving to the brink of armed conflict with them and the Chinese.\"\n\nStrate said, \"But you knew that Mitch Ishnik was a leader for all situations. You have to keep on trusting his judgment. You are a soldier too, don't over analyze the situation, follow your orders!\"\n\n\"Yah, I'm doing that,\" General Yates said, as he turned and walked into his office and closed the door.\n\nStrate, turned and left the outer office and headed back to his own. As he entered he was mulling in his mind what he had heard from General Yates. If Yates came off the rails then the plan would fall apart. Yates had his hand on the Army, and influence on the other Joint Chiefs. Strate decided to phone Ishnik.\n\n\"Strate here, ...Yes I followed Yates to his office and spoke with him. You are right that the General is a little weak at the moment. ...No, he still stands with you, but he has been shaken by all the recent events. ...He says he didn't know that Carr was going to be assassinated, and Woods get sick, and Pinchon enter the picture.\n\n\"He is really rattled by the North Koreans being involved in the murder of a President, and he is pulling a Douglas MacArthur about the Chinese. \"...Yes, 'beware of a land war in Asia.' He also still has friendly feelings to Bull Pinchon. We have to keep an eye on that.\n\n\"He did issue your orders though. Not too enthusiastically, but he sent them out. He questions whether the Army will consider them 'lawful.' He says some officers might refuse to arrest civilians under the present circumstances. I think he means that some officers might not arrest Bull. I told him a soldier's responsibility was to follow the orders of a superior, not think about it.\"\n\nMeanwhile on the floor of the U.S. Senate, Senator Olds is addressing his colleagues.\n\n\"Thank you Mr. President, I am presenting before the Senate two motions today.\n\n\"The first motion is to express the \"sense of the Senate\" that says that this house recognizes that the Secretary of Defense, a federal officer, the responsible military and security adviser to the President, is the 'Acting President' of the United States, and exercises the full powers of that office, due to the incapacity of President Woods.\n\nI suggest to this body, that it is our duty, and our opportunity to give guidance to the Executive and Judicial Departments, the Armed Forces, and the citizens of our nation, as to the constitutional successor of the President. America is being wracked by unconstitutional manipulation and usurpers, seeking to take control of our government.\n\n\"Many people have expressed opinions as to what the Constitution requires, in contrast to some Presidential succession laws, that have violated that very supreme authority. Yes, various opinions are being given, questions are being asked, and arguments are taking place; but who better to give guidance on this issue than the elected members of the U.S. Senate. The Senate's lead is critical to assure our people and the world that the United States, as it always has been, is now under control by the constitutionally qualified leader. We must assure that there is no power vacuum in Washington that enemies can exploit; the Senate has no question as to who is the 'Acting President, it is Mitch Ishnik.'\n\n\"To delay this vote, or to defeat it, would lead to a national catastrophe. Time would be given to those who do not respect our Constitution. Time is what they want, for them to consolidate their power, and for them to shut the mouths of those of us who are trying to preserve our nation. Don't give them that time, don't give them another day, another hour, not even another minute.\n\n\"I urge the Senate to take up this motion, and pass it as soon as possible.\n\n\"The second motion, is a motion of censure, of retired General Ulysses Pinchon, for trying to usurp the powers of the President, and disrupt the tranquility of our nation.\n\n\"Our nation has been endangered by the reckless actions of General Pinchon. He has brought confusion where the Constitution has order. An attempt has been made to foist on the American people an unelected retired General as 'Acting President.' Foreign nations, both friend and foe, have been made to wonder if the United States is about to depart from its founding principles that have made our republic great, and brought us to the front of other nations, and led to our great power, security, wealth, and happiness.\n\n\"Such action by the General has endangered the principle of 'government of the people, by the people, and for the people,' and if unchecked would surely cause such government to 'perish from the earth.' Surely the United States Senate should issue its censure of such a wicked man and his wicked deeds. That this man has honorably served our nation before in war, does not give him leave to destroy it in a time of peace. Emotion and respect for the past must not cloud our minds as to what he is attempting to do now.\n\n\"Mr. President, I recognize that the General has acted with the aid of the now incapacitated President Woods. I do not blame Mr. Woods. Following the strain of the assassination of President Carr, in Mobile, I can only assume that Mr. Woods stroke damaged his mind. He thought that he was doing good in appointing General Pinchon to replace him. If he still had a sound mind, I do not believe President Woods would ever have done this.\n\n\"But we must not yield to emotionalism because of our sympathy and empathy for President Woods, and his sad condition. We must see that what he did was wrong. We must undo this unconstitutional succession that he has tried to establish.\"\n\nNow Senator Olds solemnly pulls a small thin black leather covered book from his inside pocket. \"I hold in my hand the Constitution of the United States. Let us not be quiet while anyone breaks it. Let us issue this censure of General Pinchon, before it is too late.\n\n\"Mr. President, I encourage this Senate to pass this motion with all speed.\"\n\n\"Senator France is recognized.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. President, I rise in support of the two motions introduced by Senator Olds. He is a man of courage to stand and say that which he did. There are individuals and groups in America today, that would steal our government. If they succeed it will not be long before they also steal our individual liberty.\n\nOur Constitution has worked for lo these many years; and it must be protected and defended by all Americans, so that it may continue to work for a thousand years more. Our Constitution was written by founding fathers who did not trust those who would serve in government, to not become tyrants. Great checks were put in place, and they have kept us free and safe.\n\n\"The Secretary of Defense has stepped forward and taken the Presidential oath. He is serving now, not from the White House, because of the interloper, Pinchon. President Ishnik is fulfilling his lawful duties both domestic and foreign. Even now, he has discovered that the murder of our beloved President Carr was in all likelihood, instigated and carried out by the military intelligence arm of Communist North Korea.\n\n\"If he is to face this foe, he must not have to watch his back for knives from retired American Generals. No, Senator Olds has presented two motions that will place the Senate on the side of right, on the side of the Constitution, and on the side of the rights of the American people. I again ask the Senate to pass this motion with all speed.\"\n\nAs other Senators rose to be recognized, Olds and France went to the Senate cloak room and began to press their colleagues to support 'Acting President' Ishnik, and pass the two motions. Since President Woods' death had not been announced yet, none of them realized that the issue was not who would be 'Acting President,' but 'President.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER EIGHTEEN\n\nPinchon sat alone in the Oval Office, looking at the picture hanging on the wall of another General, George Washington. He spoke to Mrs. Mary Margaret Roland, his secretary, who has just come into the Oval Office.\n\n\"Do you know what epitaph was given to George Washington?\"\n\n\"Yes Sir,\" she said. \"Henry Lee of Virginia said that Washington was: 'First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen.'\"\n\nPinchon said, \"How simple, yet how eloquent and elegant. You cannot have a better epitaph. George Washington deserved it. He commanded the Continental Armies during the Revolution. When the war was won, and some wanted him to become a military dictator or king of the new country, and others feared that he might take such power; Washington resigned his military commission and went home. He believed in a republic, and would not be a king or dictator. Later he became the country's first President, and after two terms, declined to run again, and keep himself in power. He again went home.\n\n\"What humility, what wisdom, what courage. He set an example that only Franklin Roosevelt ever broke; no more than two terms for a President. No one stays President too long, accumulates too much power, or refuses to let go of power. America gets new, elected Presidents, with fresh new ideas to move the country ahead and meet new challenges. What a contrast to countries that have the same militaristic and authoritarian leader for years and years. Those dictators think they are more important than their nation, and they often start taking their nation's wealth for themselves, their families, and their cronies.\n\n\"Washington put the nation ahead of his own self. He sacrificed for the nation. The people trusted and appreciated him for his integrity. He would fight their wars, he would serve as President, and then he would go back to being a citizen, like everybody else. He never was a politician.\n\n\"The people loved him. He wasn't without problems. There were some people who caused some trouble, but Washington stood firm and did his duty, and then went home.\n\n\"Mrs. Roland, I want to do my duty, finish this presidency, take the country through this trouble, and then go home. I have no desire to hold onto this office after the people have a chance to elect a new President.\"\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President, but the country will need you for the next four years until then. Maybe you will change your mind later and decide to run for the following term.\"\n\n\"No... No! I will serve for now... but it will be better for the republic, if this General, and every General, just goes home.\"\n\nJust then Charles Adams returns and says:\n\n\"Mr. President, we have the Chinese President on the phone. He seems a little dubious about your status.\"\n\n\"Okay, I am not surprised he has doubts about me, if I were him, I would too. I will speak to him.\n\n\"Mr. President, this is President Ulysses Pinchon, I need to speak with you about the situation on the Korean peninsula and the seas surrounding it.\n\n\"Yes, I am a retired General, but I am now President.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President, I can understand that you are disturbed, and find it difficult to understand what is happening in Washington, and that the situation is unprecedented... I agree that the situation is difficult for you, and that you are not the one to decide who is President of the United States. That will become very clear in the next twenty-four hours.\n\n\"But we agree that you are the President of China, and that you can exert your influence in North Korea to restrain them from further attacking South Korea.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President, I am aware that the Monroe carrier battle group has moved into the South China Sea. I am the President of the United States, and am Commander-in-Chief of the American Armed Forces. I control those forces... including that carrier group.\n\n\"No, it is not operating out of control of the American government. It will follow my commands.\n\n\"You have already talked with Mr. Ishnik....\n\n\"Yes I know he claims to be 'Acting President' now, but he is not, our Constitution and laws have placed me in the presidency.\n\n\"The battle group proceeding to the Korean Peninsula will do what I command it to do. Frankly, considering the situation, I am going to have it continue on its course, but not to endanger China. Neither will it attack North Korea, if North Korea stops its provocations.\n\n\"Mr. President, I have to say that American forces have been in and around Korea for well over a half century. South Korea is our ally, and they have the right to ask our assistance. The waters of the South China Sea, and the seas around Korea are international waters through which our ships have the right of passage.\n\n\"I could wish that a peace treaty could be signed with North Korea, but frankly it and its leaders are too unstable and untrustworthy for America and South Korea to successfully negotiate with. No one is prepared to trust what they say, because they often do the opposite of what they say. The North Korean government is provocative and deceitful.\n\n\"Yes, I am aware of your attitude to American warships near your shores. If you really do not like a lot of American ships, planes, and soldiers, in the area, you need to use your good offices to bring real stability to North Korea. A proverb says that if you take away the wood, the fire will go out. North Korea is full of wood, and it seems much of the time its leaders are throwing firebrands around.\n\n\"It is in China's interests to stabilise North Korea too. If North Korea starts another war, or if it just starves its own people to desperation, China is surely going to be affected. I am sure that you don't want another war, I assure you that I don't either. I am also certain that you don't want millions of North Koreans to flee to China as refugees from their own impoverished land.\n\n\"If you will use China's economic and military relationships with the North Koreans, I believe you can rein in, and even in the future alter their leadership. China is the one country that has real influence in North Korea.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President, my suggestion has some inherent difficulties and dangers, but not as much danger as you doing nothing to restrain the government of North Korea. Then the situation may spiral out of control and turn into a confrontation, ultimately between China and the United States.\"\n\n\"I agree, I wish the circumstances were immediately clearer, and that you could know who is President of the United States. I tell you again I am the constitutionally authorized President of the United States, and I am Commander-in-Chief of all American Armed Forces. Secretary Ishnik's claims will shortly be seen to be false.\"\n\n\"What's that... No, President Woods cannot further help resolve the issue of succession. He is the one who set in motion the events that brought me to succeed him... No, Mr. President, you cannot speak to President Woods. He is not now able to communicate even with his doctors. I am sorry.\"\n\n\"Yes... twenty-four hours will see the issue in Washington resolved. Let us plan to talk again tomorrow, and in the meantime let both of us do nothing that could endanger either one of us. Thank you, Mr. President, we will talk soon.\"\n\nCharles Adams said, \"that wasn't exactly good.\"\n\n\"No,\" Pinchon replied, \"but I can sympathize with China and all foreign governments around the world trying to figure out what is happening in Washington, D.C. They have always known in modern times, a stable American government, that changes Presidents by elections, or by a Vice President succeeding a President. They don't always like a new President, but they know who he or she is.\n\n\"Now the Chinese President thinks Woods is still officially President, and either Ishnik or I, am an \"Acting\" one. His problem is he doesn't know which one to talk to. He doesn't claim to know the intricacies of our constitutional arguments, and thankfully he doesn't want to \"choose\" the one who is President.\"\n\nAdams spoke agitatedly, \"The Chinese President has no part in 'choosing' the American President. That is totally unacceptable!\"\n\n\"Yes, but he is trying to deal with somebody about a looming crisis in the Korean peninsula. He is also trying to figure out who... right now... controls the American military. That is of interest to him, he does need to know that.\"\n\nAdams snuffed, \"How many times over the years have Americans had to wait to figure out who really was in charge in China? Was it the guy with the official title, the guy without the title but who just retired; was it one of the old revolutionary leaders that were still alive, or maybe even an Army General. The Chinese can now wait a day or two for clarity in Washington.\"\n\nPinchon said, \"The Chinese President does have to consider an American naval battle group sailing to the Koreas, and possible hostilities that could result. I claimed to have control of the carrier, James Monroe, not Ishnik, though I suspect he knows that point is not yet certain.\n\n\"We are going to have to do things that give world leaders, and specifically, the Chinese President, the assurance that I am in control of our government and military. All the dissension and commotion in Washington isn't helping the situation.\"\n\nAn aide comes in and hands Adams a note.\n\nAdams frowns and says, \"Well, if they were confused before, the Chinese are going to be even more so now. The House and Senate are getting into the act.\"\n\n\"What happened,\" Pinchon said?\n\n\"The Senate got 'rolled' by Senators Olds and France. Can you believe it, they actually just passed a \"sense of the Senate\" that says that they recognize Secretary of Defense, Mitch Ishnik, as the constitutionally provided, 'Acting President.' Senator Sharon, and a handful of others stood to oppose the motion, but could not stop it. Then the Senate also passed a censure motion against you, Mr. President.\"\n\n\"Did the Senate motion censure me as 'Acting President?'\"\n\n\"No Sir, they censured you for unconstitutionally claiming to be such.\"\n\n\"That's too bad, Pinchon replied, because if they had, they would have inadvertently recognized me in the office. But they didn't. We learned one thing though. Who says the Senate cannot act rapidly, and with bi-partisan cooperation between the political parties. The Senate has gone mad. Did you know that when Thomas Jefferson returned home from being ambassador to France, that he dined with George Washington. Jefferson is said to have asked Washington why a Senate had been created by the Constitutional Convention. Washington is said to have asked Jefferson why he had just poured his tea from his cup to his saucer. Jefferson's reply was because he wanted to cool it; that it was too hot for him to drink. Washington then replied 'we pour our legislation into the Senatorial saucer to cool it.' The Senate sure isn't cooling anything right now.\n\n\"Senators have six year terms so they will not be vulnerable to constantly having to face the next election. That was supposed to make it so that Senators did not have to go along with whatever political theory was raging in the country, and probably also in the House of Representatives, which has to face re-election every two years. The theory was that the Senate was supposed to be the house of second reflection, to cool some of the possible hot headedness of the House of Representatives.\n\nAn Aide hands Adams a note, who then exclaims, \"But it's worse! The House has just elected a new Speaker. They rejected Burlson. Now some Congressmen want to impeach 'Acting President' Pinchon, while others say that is unnecessary, that 'Acting President' Ishnik should just arrest you, and put you on trial for treason! Then they want you hanged.\"\n\n\"Don't they know I am a retired Army General. Hanging is not a proper way to execute a soldier... They would need a firing squad!\"\n\n\"I am sure if you suggest it, they will do it, probably on the National Mall,\" Adams said.\n\n\"Well, then it would need to be done halfway between the Lincoln and Washington monuments.\"\n\n\"Why there, Sir?\" asked Adams.\n\n\"Because if they are going to go against a lawful succession... they might as well do it in a way that dishonors the remembrance of those two Presidents who protected and defended the Constitution at critical times.\n\n\"And Adams, if they shoot me, I am sure there is also going to be a spot for you in front of the firing squad.\"\n\n\"I will have you know, that there are a lot of people in this town that would like to see me shot.\"\n\n\"Well, Adams, I am amazed, this shows just how fickle and changeable the Congress has become. One day the House elects me Speaker, full well knowing that I am to succeed an incapacitated President Woods. Now some of them have changed their minds and seek to deny, that what they did before, was legitimate.\n\n\"The Senate then wants to become the 'decider' of something previous Congresses have already 'decided.' The Presidential succession act was passed over the years by different Congresses, following constitutional authority. The legislative acts were then largely unchallenged for years and years, until President Woods used them to arrange for his successor. Woods only did this because there was not a Vice President, nor the time to appoint one, considering how long it would take to get Congressional approval.\n\n\"You talk about lurching from one decision to another! The Congress thinks Woods outmaneuvered them, and got them to make decisions too quickly, and without proper consideration. So now, if they would think about it, Senators France and Olds have surely done the same thing to them. Are they going to wake up tomorrow, after the firing squad, and say they acted precipitously?\n\n\"Knowing the Congress, I would say, probably . Of course by then, a 'President Ishnik' will be arranging their firing squad too. In this present distress he will surely declare that expediency requires that Congress must not interfere with his defending the nation.\"\n\nAnother note is passed to Charles Adams. \"Mr. President, it looks like the White House is now getting phone calls from our allies too, demanding to know what is going on here. They are getting scared, and oh yes, the markets are getting scared. They are down ten percent as of close today, and when they open tomorrow, there may be a bloodbath on Wall Street. They really are shaken by the Army on the streets of Washington, and two Presidents of the United States.\"\n\n\"The situation is getting rapidly out of hand. I am going to have to act quickly and decisively or Ishnik might actually win. A good General will out flank his enemy, deny him re-enforcements, and cut off his supplies. He will then attack the enemy at a weak point, and rout him.\n\n\"Adams, did you know that I am a good General. Ishnik started this war; he had the advantage of surprise. However, now we know what he is doing, and I am going to go around his flank where he doesn't think I can go. I am going to keep him from getting more troops, and I am going to cut him off from those that would help him. Then I am going to face him, and attack him.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER NINETEEN\n\nIshnik called Army Secretary Strate, to his office.\n\n\"Strate, we must keep world leaders, and Americans too, from thinking of Pinchon, as President. He has the possession of the White House. It is the residence of, and its image the symbol of, the President of the United States. When the President speaks in the press briefing room, the Presidential seal is on the lectern, and the image of the White House is on the wall behind him.\"\n\n\"Yes, what of it,\" says Strate?\"\n\n\"So far, when people have seen me, they have seen me with a lectern that has the Defense Department seal on it, and a picture of the Pentagon behind me. They have to be led to think of me as President! We have to connect me to the White House.\n\n\"How are we going to do that?\"\n\n\"Well, the best way would be to make a handcuffed Pinchon do a perp walk from the White House. But until we can arrest Pinchon, we have to take the image of the White House away from him. I have had made a mock-up of the White House briefing room. From now on when I speak, it will look like I am in the White House. I will have the Presidential Seal in front of me, and the White House image behind me on the wall. Symbols are important to people's perceptions.\"\n\n\"But Pinchon is still actually in the White House.\"\n\n\"Yes, but does everyone know that. There is so much confusion in Washington today. Who is certain of what is really happening? I say, 'he that is confused, let him be confused still.' However, it is time for us to eliminate Pinchon!\" Mitch Ishnik said. \"If I am going to be the \"President,' he cannot be.\"\n\n\"Are you going to kill him too?\" Asked Strate.\n\n\"No, after Carr, I doubt the 'North Koreans' are up to another assassination.\"\n\n\"Yah, and even that would have made him look like he had been legitimate.\"\n\n\"Yes, and that would mean I was not the legitimate President. No, after we get our hands on Pinchon, eventually I will let a military court try him for treason, and hang him. The nation hasn't hung a traitor in a quite a while.\n\nStrate asked, \"how are you going to get Pinchon out of the White House so you can arrest him? If I were him, I would stay behind those gates, and the protection of the Secret Service.\"\n\n\"You would, but General Pinchon is not you. I have known the General for more years than I like. He has butted heads with me so often, but in the end I prevailed, I won. I retired him, and put him out of his precious Army a few years ago. Because of our past history, I know him, his mindset, style, and methods. He is bold enough that he is going to walk out of the White House again, and try to gain freedom of action. He is feeling right now like a bird in a cage, and he won't accept that.\"\n\nStrate said, \"Shall I have Yates call General Ucclese, and warn him that Pinchon will try again to leave the White House.\"\n\n\"No... no, I think we leave Yates out of this for the present. He is just too sympathetic to his mentor. I will phone Ucclese myself, and lay the law down as to what he is to do when his Airborne gets Pinchon in their hands again.\n\n\"Instead, why don't you call a meeting of the Patriot Council for tomorrow morning around 7:00 a.m. Make sure the senators and everyone else knows they need to be there. I want to make sure that everyone keeps up their nerve.\"\n\n\"Olds and France proved their abilities today in the Senate. They are strong.\"\n\n\"Absolutely, they have been with me from nearly the beginning. As soon as I appealed to their patriotism and their love of the Constitution, they jumped to join my cause. But the council is not just the two senators. Most of them are not as deeply dedicated, but are motivated followers. I need you, and Olds, and France, to help me now that our plans are put to action, to keep the council from wavering. Yes, go and get things in order.\"\n\nStrate left, and Ishnik told his military aide to get Major General Ucclese on the phone.\n\n\"...General Ucclese, this is President Ishnik. I congratulate you on taking control of the Departmental buildings so swiftly, and without any bloodshed. I am surprised they did not resist more...\n\n\"...Yes, your overwhelming forces made them realize resistance was useless. They had to accept the 'fait accompli.' Good.\n\n\"Do you have the Secretaries of State and Treasury with their Departments?\n\n\"They are being kept safe by your soldiers....Good! Eventually they will need to be transferred to a safe haven. Perhaps you could send them over here to the Pentagon in an armored unit.\n\n\"Right. I also need to tell you that I expect Bull Pinchon to try and get out of the White House.\n\n\"Yes, I know he came and met you already. Yes, your orders hadn't said to arrest him. But you have my new orders?\n\n\"Yes, arrest on sight. If he resists, or is about to get away, you are authorized to use lethal force. He is not to get away. Do not allow the Secret Service to prevent you.\n\n\"Shoot, if they shoot! For that matter, shoot if they threaten to shoot!\n\n\"Pinchon will not stay cooped up, he will try to get out to mobilize opposition to me as the constitutional President.\n\n\"Yes, 'Acting President.' General you have been placed in a unique position, at a unique time, to defend our nation and our Constitution. If you capture this traitor, your name will go into the history books as a patriot. Your nation would be very appreciative, and so would your President. You got your second star not long ago, but a third one would not be far away.\n\n\"I agree, you need to take personal command of the situation at the White House...\n\n\"Yes, It would be a good idea to move the press and media away from the White House, so that they would not misconstrue the situation, if physical force was necessary. It sounds like you understand your orders, and you have a plan. Let me know, as soon as you have arrested Pinchon. Good bye, and good luck.\"\n\nIshnik then told his secretary, \"Get me Chief Justice Grantham on the phone.\n\n\"Mr. Justice, it is a good evening, the situation is not over, but it is progressing. I hope the matter will be concluded by tomorrow about this time. At critical times your counsel has always been useful for me.\"\n\nGrantham replied, \"We think alike on the Constitution, and the needs of this nation. President Carr was a necessary tragedy. Woods would have been ineffective, and you could have dominated him now, and then defeated him in the next election. Woods illness changed the plan, but you have reacted well. If you keep pressing that constitutional officers are the legitimate successors to the President, you will prevail. When the matter gets to the Supreme Court I am confident a majority will be persuaded by our... ...I mean your argument. In conference I am sure other Justices will follow my lead.\"\n\n\"That will be what finishes off any effective opposition to me. If the Supreme Court rules that a constitutional officer must be the successor to a President, the matter will be over. Then the Legislative and Judiciary branches of our government will have stood together to keep the Executive branch from being usurped.\n\n\"I will have documents at the court tomorrow, asking that the Supreme Court immediately rule on who may succeed President Woods. I will argue that only the Supreme Court can, in this current time of crisis, resolve this question.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, I am confident that your cause will be justified.\"\n\n\"Thank you, and good night, Mr. Justice.\"\n\n\"Good night, Mr. President, long may you live to defend the Constitution.\"\n\nAs soon as he had hung up, Ishnik's secretary said, \"Senator France is on the phone.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, I wanted you to know that both houses of Congress have majorities that will stand with you against Pinchon. I assume that you have already heard what both houses already did today?\n\n\"Yes, France, you and Olds really used your influence today.\"\n\n\"I want you to know that there is a real movement afoot to have the House impeach Pinchon, and the Senate convict him. A lot of members in the House are really pushing for this, and want to get it going tomorrow. And a number of Senators are backing the idea too.\"\n\n\"But that would de-legitimize my presidency in the process,\" Ishnik said.\n\n\"The whole idea is that I am the real President. I have been telling the American people that I am the President. I have been telling the Chinese President that I am the American President, with my finger on the nuclear button. I have been saying that Pinchon is an unconstitutional, and hence illegal successor to President Woods. How do you impeach a President, who really isn't President?\"\n\n\"I can see where you are coming from, but this idea from the House has a lot of wind in its sails. They are wanting to do this to end the crisis and get you into the White House. If Pinchon were impeached and convicted, the White House would be yours.\"\n\n\"I still don't like it. I hope to pre-empt Congress's plans by arresting Pinchon for treason.\"\n\n\"How are you going to arrest him in the White House?\"\n\n\"He will come out soon, maybe even tonight, because he will lose this fight if he stays where he is. No one can come see him, and he cannot go to them. He can phone people, we haven't yet been able to wrestle communications away from him, but he's not free, and is cut off, and Pinchon won't be able to stand that.\n\n\"I have General Ucclese taking personal command around the White House, so there will be no mess-ups again when Pinchon comes out.\n\n\"No, we will get Pinchon tonight or tomorrow, and when we do, we will have won.\"\n\n\"If Pinchon does come out, it would be a shame if the North Koreans shot an 'Acting' President in front of the Army Airborne.\" Said Senator France.\n\n\"No, I don't think that the North Koreans are going to shoot Pinchon. That is too much.\n\n\"It would certainly end the Pinchon problem.\n\n\"True, but it would not end all the constitutional problems, and others might still be emboldened to try to become President. The Secretaries of State and Treasury are still not in a safe location. Oh, General Yates is here to see me, I have to go.\"\n\nGeneral Yates said, \"President Ishnik, I have just received word that Ucclese's Airborne troops have moved the media back and away from the White House.\"\n\n\"Yes, I told him to do so.\"\n\n\"I didn't issue that order,\" Yates said.\n\n\"No, I did it myself...phoned him, and told him what I wanted him to do.\"\n\n\"That's unusual for a President to do, Sir. There is a chain of command, for a purpose. It can insulate you from blame, and it helps in maintaining military order and discipline. I mean the Army Chief Of Staff should know and be in charge of what the Army is doing.\"\n\n\"True, it is unusual for a President to direct troops, but in effect I am still also the Secretary of Defense, as I have temporarily kept that job too. Also, now is not the time for too many formalities or niceties, Yates. You are still in the loop, and a valuable Army Chief.\n\n\"I had the Airborne move the media because I was afraid it could be dangerous around the White House, tonight or tomorrow. I didn't want them in harm's way, and also I didn't think it good for them to report things that we did not desire.\"\n\nYates asked, \"What is about to happen at the White House?\"\n\n\"Well, I think Pinchon will try and make a break tonight or tomorrow, and we are going to be ready for him.\"\n\n\"What are you planning to do with him, kill him?\"\n\n\"No, no, Yates! I have issued General Ucclese orders to arrest Pinchon. I will let a court determine what to do with the General. I haven't gotten along with Pinchon, but I believe in the Constitution and law, and I am not going to kill him.\n\n\"Did you hear about the Patriot Council meeting tomorrow at 7:00 a.m.?\n\nBe there and we will bring everybody up to date with the situation. ...And stop worrying Yates.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir. But this is all new territory.\"\n\n\"Good night General, I need to get a little sleep. I am sleeping here tonight, so as to be able to stay on top of any situation.\"\n\n\"Good night Mr. Secretary.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY\n\n\"There is little sleep for us tonight, Charles.\"\n\n\"No, Sir.\" Charles replies, as he tries to stifle a yawn. His age is showing, and he is weary from the long hours and no sleep. \"Not in this White House! The Secret Service is stressed, and on hair trigger alert over a possible assault on the building. The White House staff has been working day and night without a break; everyone is tense not knowing what is going to happen next. And because we are surrounded by the Army, nobody has been coming in or out of the grounds. Even the news reporters that were in the White House have had to stay on. They are sleeping in a room in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building.\"\n\n\"Are they filing their reports to their papers and networks?\"\n\n\"No, the Secret Service for security reasons has seized control of all regular outside calls, and blocked cell phone signals, and the internet as well. The reporters are writing everything down that they see and hear, but they cannot file, until the lid is lifted by the Secret Service.\"\n\n\"Well, tell the Secret Service to allow a live TV broadcast from the East Wing tomorrow morning at 8:30. American's breakfast time will include me talking to the nation, about what has been occurring through this night. The people deserve to know what is happening, and what their President is going to do about it. Our allies need to know that the American ship of state is not drifting erratically, as two men fight for the helm. The rest of the world, and especially the Chinese need to be certain I am in charge too!\"\n\n\"I am sure the stock market would appreciate knowing too. As things stand, they are going to have a massive drop in averages. The markets hate uncertainty, and have never had the Army guarding Washington like this, since the Civil War. They aren't rattled, they are confused and scared. ...But one question, Mr. President...\"\n\n\"What's that, Charles?\"\n\n\"Do you know what you are going to do, to resolve this crisis?\"\n\n\"Yes, just as in a war, I am going to out maneuver Ishnik tonight, and cut him off from his stronghold, in the morning. Here...\" as he hands Adams a sheet of paper, \"I have made a list of people I want to speak to on the phone as soon as possible. Let's wake them up and have them serve their nation. Have Mrs. Roland call them in the order I have them listed. Tell her to start by getting me General Ucclese. And Adams, I want you to listen in on this conversation, then get a little sleep, I need you alert tomorrow.\"\n\nTwo minutes later Adams says, \"Mr. President, General Ucclese is on the phone.\"\n\n\"General Ucclese, this is President Pinchon. ...Yes, 'Acting President.' ...I have some instructions for you.\n\n\"What's that? ...You are moving more troops nearer to the White House, and removing the media from near it. ...Why are you doing that?\n\n\"That was good thinking. If Ishnik ordered you to, then you're following orders keeps him unaware that you are also following my directives. ...Good. It will even be helpful for something that I want you to do for me. I need you to discreetly bring the Secretaries of State and Treasury to me here, ASAP. If the media cannot see that, all the better, let Ishnik remain in the dark.\n\n\"Secondly, in the morning, at 8:45 a.m., I am going to want you to be ready to transport me and some guests, to various locations. You will need at least three Hummers. I don't want a large force, but I would like a 'company' of troops in armoured vehicles; and General, I would like you to personally travel with me.\n\n\"Yes, ...That's right. I will give further instructions in the morning. Good, see you at 8:45 a.m.\n\nCharles Adams asked Pinchon, \"Do you think you can trust General Ucclese? He is also getting orders from Secretary Ishnik, and the Army command. Are you sure he will obey you? ...and not Ishnik, or a superior General.\"\n\n\"Harry Ucclese is a good soldier, and a good General. He is being pulled in different directions. He believes in Army discipline and the command structure. But he also believes the President is the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. I believe he will figure out the right and wrong of the situation, and do the right. He served under me in war, he knows I am not power hungry or a glory seeker, and that I look after the welfare of those under me. Harry also knows my character, and that I would not ask him to do something unlawful. But he is smart and savvy, and also realizes that I am asking him to do something, that if it goes bad, puts his career and life at risk. Yes, Charles, ...I trust him to keep my back safe, I trust him with my life.\"\n\n\"The morning will surely tell the story,\" Charles said.\n\n\"Now Charles, have Mrs. Roland get me the Marine Corp Commandant, General Fritz Huffstetter.\"\n\nA few minutes later, as Charles sat on the couch, weary from all the events of the day, he heard Pinchon say, \"Hello, General Huffstetter, this is Bull Pinchon. I know you and Secretary Ishnik have had your problems, and that he has largely sidelined you. I need your help.\"\n\nCharles was tired, resting his head on the arm of the couch. He could only hear some of the conversation, because Pinchon was not talking very loudly.\n\n\"Yes, I had heard that. ...You have always been a leader, even when throwing touchdowns back at Annapolis,\" Pinchon said. \"...I would like to put you squarely back in the game. It won't be as quarterback, but General you could be a great fullback, blocking for the quarterback.\n\n\"What I would like you to do?...I want you to arrange tonight with some of your 'friends,' to meet me at about... Yes, at the... Do you think you could make those blocks for me?\n\n\"Yes, and full dress uniform.\n\n\"How many do you think you could muster on this short notice? That would be great! I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. I knew I could rely on the Marines.\"\n\nPinchon hung up the phone and called out, \"Charles, Charles! You nodded off on me!\"\n\n\"I heard you talking to General Huffstetter,\" Charles said. \"Though I am sure that I missed some of the conversation.\"\n\n\"You better get a couple hours sleep, Charles, you have had a long day. You must be awake in the morning.\"\n\n\"What about you, Sir? You have had a long day too.\"\n\n\"I am younger than you are, and I am still in fighting shape. I may catch a few winks in a while, but I have to issue some orders, and write a short speech for my breakfast broadcast at 8:00 tomorrow morning.\"\n\n\"I had better stay and help you then,\" Charles replied.\n\n\"No, the Deputy Chief of Staff, and the speech writers can help me do this.\" With that Charles reluctantly went to his office to sleep for two or three hours, or until he was called by the President.\n\nBull went to work, talking with the people whose names he had given to Mrs. Roland. He also phoned certain Army, Navy, and Air Force brass, and issued new orders. All American Forces' commands outside the United States, had all military exercises canceled, and all alerts were rescinded, except along the demilitarized zone in Korea. He did not want the military to accidently cause a 'misunderstanding,' that America was acting aggressively abroad, to distract public attention from confusion at home. Additional orders were also given to the Secret Service, and all federal police agencies, that across the U.S., they were not to initiate any action that would appear aggressive to the Army. Bull did not want the Army to have any 'misunderstandings' either.\n\nThen Pinchon had the TV networks notified by the White House Press Secretary, that they would receive a broadcast to the nation and the world, from the White House at 8:30 a.m. It would be of the highest importance, and every network was expected to provide air time. The pool feed for all broadcasters would come from a camera provided by Network News, which happened to be trapped by events, in the White House.\n\nAt 6:00 a.m. Bull finished a rough draft of a short speech to the nation and the world beyond. He gave it to the staff writers to fix it, so it didn't sound like it had been written in the middle of the night. He told them to keep it on paper, he would read it, rather than use a teleprompter. His speech was short and to the point. Like former British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, he was not afraid to be seen using notes. He remembered that Churchill had said something to the effect, that he could talk for hours without notes, but if he was to talk for but a few minutes, he would require notes.\n\nBull shut his eyes, and leaned back in his office chair in the Oval Office. His mind raced. He remembered he was still on 'vacation.' He was supposed to have stayed in Hawaii for three weeks, doing little but enjoying the sun, warm breezes, and blue seas. What a difference to cold rainy Washington, in February. At least the damp weather was only rain, and not snow. The northeast was getting a blizzard.\n\nPinchon thought to himself for a moment. \"What am I doing here in the White House? How am I sitting in the Oval Office, behind the President's desk? How did I become the President? I was not really the Speaker of the House! I was encouraged to rap the gavel a couple times, and that was that. Then I was sworn in as 'Acting President.' No, this must be a dream ...a nightmare. I never wanted to be President. I'm an Army General. I'm...\"\n\n\"Mr. President ...Mr. President.\"\n\n\"Oh, Charles, you woke up.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir. I imagine I got a lot more sleep than you.\"\n\n\"What time is it?\"\n\n\"It is 6:45 Sir.\n\n\"I have ordered Breakfast to be brought to you soon, you haven't had time to eat much in the last day, and need nourishment for strength.\"\n\n\"Thanks. Do you think a clean suit and shirt could be found in this place? I have been wearing these too long.\"\n\n\"I will direct the stewards to find some fresh clothes. I guess we did not pack your suitcase for you, when we invited you here.\"\n\n\"Invited me! ...I was just remembering that I was supposed to be on vacation, you know in beautiful warm Hawaii. And you didn't invite me, you kidnapped me!\"\n\n\"Well, I actually didn't do that.\"\n\n\"No, that was agent Melman and his crew. But who was the person who decided that I was the one who should be 'invited?'\n\n\"That was President pro tempore, Sharon, Sir. As soon as he found out about Woods terminal illness, and the President's plan to find a replacement, Sharon immediately recommended you . He thought you were just the one for the job. The Speaker agreed, the President sent Melman to get you, and you know the rest of the story.\"\n\n\"When this is over, do I get the rest of my vacation?\"\n\n\"Hopefully, but in eight years,\" Charles said.\n\n\"No you don't. I have only signed on for the rest of President Woods' term. But in three years and eleven months, and however many days, I am handing this job over to somebody the American people elected directly, and gave a majority to.\"\n\n\"You mean elected 'indirectly.'\"\n\n\"What do you mean, 'indirectly.'\"\n\n\"Well,\" Charles said, \"the U.S. doesn't elect the President directly. That is what France does, but the U.S. elects a slate of people from each state to the Electoral College. The Electoral College then elects the President.\"\n\n\"They elect the person who got the most votes, don't they?\" Bull said.\n\n\"That brings up another matter. Usually the electoral college elects the candidate who gets the majority of the popular vote. But that is not how it always works out. Remember, Al Gore got more votes than George W. Bush, but Bush got more electoral college votes. So also did Presidents Rutherford B. Hayes and Benjamin Harrison. I might also mention there is I think at least six more Presidents who were elected with less than fifty percent of the nation's votes, because there was more than two candidates.\"\n\n\"They must have been weak Presidents,\" Bull said.\n\n\"John Quincy Adams won with just over thirty percent of the popular vote, and Abraham Lincoln won with less than forty percent. So no! Presidents are not seen as weak or strong, by their vote count, but on how they handle the events and crisis's that they face.\"\n\n\"My platter is full of crises.\"\n\nJust then the steward brought breakfast in.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-ONE\n\nAt precisely 7:00 a.m., the assembled Patriot Council abruptly stood as Mitch Ishnik confidently entered the room. The Council saluted their leader, who then began to speak.\n\n\"I am always strengthened by knowing that I have the full backing of the Patriot Council, and that each of you can be relied upon to do your duty.\n\n\"I believe that today, our actions will save our nation, and cause our names to be praised by future generations and historians. Our names, and our deeds, will define us. Success today will vanquish all who would dare to oppose constitutional authority.\n\n\"We must not fear our opponents, and dare not to be timid. Our enemies have already put their nefarious plans into action. They have killed one President, and taken advantage of a sick President, in an attempt to weaken this nation and its people's resolve. We have seen some in our nation, because of a lack of understanding of the Constitution, do foolish things that have aided our enemies. Some other Americans, at this precarious moment, out of pride, and a lust for power, are trying to seize control of the government. This Council must stop them, taking whatever action is required. We must preserve the Constitution.\n\n\"Let me speak plainly with you. I know you will agree with me, when I tell you the whole situation.\n\n\"Intelligence sources have discovered that President Carr was killed by a 'for hire' squad of former KGB assassins. These killers were paid for the hit, by the North Korean government, who want to sow confusion and fear in America. They want America to turn inward, and away from taking care of its allies, like South Korea.\n\n\"Our 'intelligence' is 'good' on this. We have found out the truth. It has been confirmed by allied European intelligence agencies, and also by the KGB itself; which is actually trying to track down their rogue former agents. What I am saying to you is right, we can be confident we have the facts.\n\n\"As you have seen and heard in the past twenty-four hours, President Woods, and a few Congressional leaders, have tried to engineer what amounts to a coup d'état. They have tried to install a General as the 'Acting President,' the 'de-facto' President. General Bull Pinchon is laying claim to the American presidency. We are not going to let this stand. As patriots, it is our duty not to.\n\n\"Therefore, I have already begun decisive action, to 'smoke out' of the White House, the 'pretender President,' and to gain control of various government departments. Thus far there has not been bloodshed, and I hope that such will be minimal. But we have to be willing to let anti-patriots die for their cause. If they oppose us, and do not submit to our authority, they will be killed. We do not need to shed tears over this.\n\n\"I have sent General Ucclese, and the Airborne to take control of critical places. He is a capable officer, and his troops are well disciplined. There was in the beginning a little confusion as to what his orders were, but he is straight about it now. I am expecting General Pinchon to try to escape the White House to rally support for himself. Ucclese is to capture or kill him. Once Pinchon is removed from contention, this constitutional charade that President Woods began, will come to a halt.\n\n\"As the Federal Officer next in the line of succession, that is presently capable of leading this nation; and because of Woods incapacitation, I have already taken the oath of office, and am now 'President.' Once again, if other federal officers and other agencies declare their loyalty to me as President, then they will remain as they are for a period of continuity. If they do not, they will be removed from their responsibilities, by all necessary means.\n\nIshnik went on, \"For the time being I have also retained leading the DoD. This will temporarily simplify the chain of command, and lines of communication. I need you to be alert, and help me execute my responsibilities. Undoubtedly as we settle into control, your assignments will change and increase, as I will be appointing many of you to high office, heading many federal departments and agencies. Your patriotism will not go unnoticed, or unrewarded. Can I count on you?\"\n\nThe council stood, and placed their clenched fist over their hearts. A chorus of voices swore their loyalty to the Patriot Leader, the President of the United States of America.\n\nSecretary Strate spoke, \"Mr. President, do what you have to do, we are with you. Save our government! Save our nation! Save our freedom!\"\n\n\"Now to your posts,\" Ishnik said. \"Await further orders, report all opposition, be loyal.\"\n\nThe council broke up, and Ishnik returned to his office, accompanied by Strate, Olds, and France. General Yates arrived a few minutes later.\n\n\"Secretary Ishnik, Sir,\" Yates said.\n\n\"You mean President Ishnik...,\" Strate snapped back.\n\n\"Mr. 'Acting President,'\" Yates continued, \"We have problems at the demilitarized zone in Korea. North Korean forces have beaten up American guards within the Panmunjom compound. Moreover, their Army has begun deploying very provocatively. They are moving up to near the DMZ into offensive positions, rather than defensive ones. Also, their artillery has sunk another South Korean mine sweeper operating near one of the disputed islands, just south of the line of control. We may soon have a shooting war.\"\n\n\"Don't get too excited,\" Senator Olds said. \"I have been around a long time, and the North Koreans are just flexing their muscles, and showing themselves strong. They won't actually start a war.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Secretary Strate, \"they know by now that our Intelligence agencies have 'outed' them, in the assassination of President Carr. They are worried about our response, so they are being bellicose and belligerent. But they won't go too far.\"\n\n\"You have more confidence in the North Koreans than I do,\" replied General Yates. \"And besides, we can't let them kill our President, and get away with it.\"\n\n\"All in due time, Yates, all in due time,\" said Ishnik. \"We will have to punish the North Koreans, but later, when we have restored the strength and resolve of the American nation. Right now there is too much fear. That's why we have to be brave.\"\n\nSenator France asked Yates, \"What did you think about the Patriot Council meeting?\"\n\n\"I was surprised at what we were told. I didn't know that the North Koreans had used Russians to kill Carr. And ...I thought Pinchon was to be arrested, not killed. I didn't know we were threatening to kill anyone who opposed us.\"\n\n\"Yates, I told you before, don't get weak on us!\" Ishnik said. \"I have things under control. Pinchon hopefully will be arrested, not killed. I told you before that I wanted him to be tried for treason. He might die after that, but it would be a fair trial. So buck up!\"\n\nStrate spoke up, \"Yates, you are a General. You have a duty to your Commander-in-Chief. Follow him, trust him. Everything will come out right. Go keep track of your Army.\"\n\nAfter Yates left the office, and went on his way, Ishnik said, \"Strate, we have a problem there. He is still pining about Bull Pinchon. He doesn't like it that Pinchon has to die.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I think he saw that the only hope Pinchon has is a treason trial. ...And that would just end in a conviction and execution. He doesn't want Bull, dead,\" said Senator France.\n\nStrate spoke again, \"I will watch him even more closely. If he goes AWOL, or gets sentimental about Bull...well there are other Generals that can become Army Chief Of Staff. It might be necessary for General Yates to have an illness, or accident...\"\n\n\"Or die!\" Olds said. He is either with us all the way, or he is against us. He has been useful to us as a tool, but he is not the brains of this operation. He believes us, that the North Koreans killed Carr, so all may not be lost. He may come around, but Strate, you do keep an eye on him.\"\n\n\"I will!\"\n\nMeanwhile Yates returned to his office. He told his secretary, \"Get me General Terance Jonston, at Pacific Command.\"\n\nA few minutes later his secretary said: \"General Jonston is on line one, Sir.\"\n\n\"'Terror', Willy, here, I have some questions for you. ...And I would appreciate you keeping this conversation quiet.\"\n\n\"What's up, Willy? What's bothering you? Washington getting to you? We both need a good small war to keep us busy.\"\n\n\"Well, we may get a big war instead.\"\n\n\"Yes, I saw the reports about the Korean provocations too. Still, I don't think they will 'jump the wall.'\"\n\n\"I hope you are right,\" said Yates. But I want to ask you about the North Koreans.\"\n\n\"What about them?\" said Jonston.\n\n\"Have you heard or seen any intelligence, or even rumor, that the North Koreans were involved in President Carr's assassination?\n\n\"No, I have heard nothing. Where did you get that?\"\n\n\"I got it from Ishnik, and Strate, and their friends.\"\n\n\"I haven't heard anything like that. I would think if that were true that we would have been placed on a war alert.\"\n\n\"Yeah, me too! If you hear anything through other channels, let me know; I may not be getting all the intelligence reports around here. And, keep this quiet...but you might breech the subject to General Gnies.\"\n\n\"Ok, Willy. But I say this as an old friend, keep your eyes and ears open too! I can't tell you why, I have been ordered not to. But I got another phone call earlier tonight ...and Ishnik is in deep trouble, and if you are involved with him, so are you. You need to make a little room between you and Ishnik.\n\nGeneral Yates hung up the phone and called out to his secretary, \"Connect me to General Ucclese, at his field command.\"\n\nA few moments later, \"Sir, General Ucclese is on line three.\"\n\n\"Yates here; General Ucclese, we need to talk.\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\n\"What are your orders from Secretary Ishnik, has he ordered you to kill General Pinchon?\"\n\n\"Sir, first of all, Mr. Ishnik says that he is the President.\"\n\n\"At the most he is the 'Acting President,'\" said General Yates.\n\n\"Sir, I am not a constitutional lawyer, but...\"\n\nYates interrupted, \"None the less, has he ordered you to kill Pinchon?\"\n\n\"He has ordered me to arrest Pinchon, but Ishnik made it clear that he will not be disappointed if the General dies in the process. He ordered that my troops should fire upon even threatening action by the Secret Service, or if Pinchon were about to succeed in escaping.\"\n\n\"General Ucclese, I am now countermanding that order. You are not to get into a gunfight with the Secret Service. That is not what our Army does. If you can detain Pinchon, do so, but then deliver him immediately to my custody. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes Sir, arrest Pinchon, and turn him over to your custody.\"\n\n\"You sound like you think something is wrong,\" said Yates.\n\n\"Sir, yes Sir! I am a General. I am in the field, in of all places outside the White House, in Washington, D.C. I have also been ordered to restrain the media from its reporting my actions. And now I am being given conflicting orders, by two of my superiors in the chain of command. In obeying either's order, I am going to be in trouble with the other one. Yes Sir, I think something is wrong.\"\n\n\"Something is wrong! Ishnik is not 'Army,' as we are,\" said Yates. \"We have 'our' duty to the nation, the soldier's duty, to protect the Constitution too. The Constitution says people have the right to 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We are not supposed to be going around shooting fellow citizens.\n\n\"Do what I have ordered. Us Generals sometimes have to make tough decisions. Orders only have to be obeyed, if they are lawful. Ishnik's order wasn't lawful. Don't obey it, do what I have ordered. It's not much consolation, but if you get broken or shot for it, so will I.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir,\" General Ucclese replied.\n\nYates hung up the phone, worried! General Jonston had given him a heads-up. He knew too, that Ishnik and Strate, and 'company,' were not pleased with his last conversation with them. ...And they will be furious ...if...when... they find out he has changed the orders to General Ucclese. But he knows that following Secretary Ishnik so closely, he has already gotten into dangerously 'deep water,' that is way over his head. He had been loyal and obeyed orders from Ishnik, even when he had doubts. He had continued to follow even when The Defense Secretary had on occasions gone around him, or kept him conveniently uninformed. Now he realized, that he may have gotten into water so rough that he may drown in it.\n\nGeneral Yates opened his desk drawer and filled the spare chamber of his prized Civil War pistol. He then opened the display case and took one of the pistols out, took its empty chamber out, and replaced it with the loaded one, and then put the pistol in the drawer.\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-TWO\n\nThe clock showed the time, 8:30 a.m. as Bull began to make the TV broadcast. \"My fellow Americans. As your President, I, Ulysses Pinchon, speak to you this morning from the Oval Office of the White House. As you saw on your televisions yesterday, I was sworn in as 'Acting President'.\n\n\"It is my sad first task today to inform you of the death of President Thomas Woods. He died yesterday, after my swearing in, and after he spoke briefly to you, the American people. He loved you much, and served but a few tumultuous days, having succeeded to the presidency himself, only three weeks earlier, after the assassination of President Caroline Carr.\n\n\"As he told you yesterday, he took extraordinary, but constitutional steps, to make it possible for me to succeed him. He knew he was going to die of his illness. It was his determination to provide a safe, expeditious, and constitutional transition, because he knew the crises the nation was experiencing.\n\n\"Though I did not seek it, I have accepted, and sworn to execute the office of President of the United States of America. I take this on without reservation or equivocation. I will defend and protect the Constitution of the United States. I am no longer 'Acting President,' but 'President!'\n\n\"The American people can know, and our many friends in other countries may know, and also our enemies must know, that the United States has a constitutional President, a Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces, directing the Executive Department, and the affairs of state. This nation will continue to be governed under law, in an orderly fashion, under the light of the sun, and the full view of our people.\n\n\"My government will seek the nation's freedom, safety and welfare, and the people's life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. I promise to the American people that we will find who carried out, and were responsible for the assassination of President Carr, and they will suffer the consequences.\n\n\"I ask the American people to unite, at this time, and help me heal this nation's wounds. I need your prayers for the awesome tasks that are before me. I need you to calmly go about your normal life. Work hard, pay your bills, buy the things of life, save for the future, go to school, study hard, exercise, play sports, love your families, be kind to others. Make plans for the future, and seek to achieve them. Mine minerals, harvest lumber, farm the land, fish the seas, manufacture products, buy and sell merchandise, operate businesses, trade stocks and bonds. Be candidates in future elections, vote in those elections, serve in office, join the military, be firemen and police officers. Take care of parents and children, go to church, and take vacations. Live your life, and live it normally. Be an American, a patriot, a citizen; be free. This is what your Constitution enables, and what former generations sacrificed and died to make possible.\n\n\"I speak now to those in other countries. We seek your friendship, and to be your friend; we ask for your cooperation. Let us together seek each other's freedom and prosperity.\n\n\"If you will not be our friend, do not question the power or resolve of this nation and its people. In the past some have foolishly doubted the strength of America, and lost terrible wars as a result. We seek war and confrontation with no one. We have ambition for no other country's territory, or for any people's possessions. We want to live in peace. But let no one doubt we will fight, if we or our allies are attacked. If you too want peace, there will be peace. If you make war, you will receive the whirlwind of war.\n\n\"I turn now to the crises here in America. Most of the current international uncertainty about America, has its basis in the confusion being sown by some Americans. This is something that must stop.\n\n\"Secretary of Defense Mitch Ishnik has claimed to have become President of the United States. He has rallied supporters to follow him. He has even commanded forces of the Army to seize parts of the nation's capital. He is not the constitutional successor to President Woods. He is in the line of succession, but there are others ahead of him.\n\n\"However, there is no vacancy in the presidency now. It has been lawfully and constitutionally filled. Therefore there is nothing for him or others to succeed to. Moreover, I am now in control of the forces in Washington, D.C. They are following my orders, and will retire to their home bases by the end of today.\n\n\"Because Secretary Ishnik has persisted in his claims, and unconstitutional actions, I have just issued an executive order, removing him immediately, as Secretary of Defense. For a brief period of time, I am taking personal control of the Department of Defense. I have also removed the Chairman, and most of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, of the military. I have appointed four star Marine General Fritz Huffstetter as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. I have also appointed other appropriate officers to serve as the Joint Chiefs of their respective Services. Until all such are confirmed by the Senate, I shall take advice from these officers, and issue orders as Commander-in-Chief. The former Chairman, and most Military Chiefs are removed, I therefore urge the Senate to confirm the new Chairman and Joint Chiefs expeditiously. Other changes will be made in various commands, according to the advice of these officers.\n\n\"I have asked the rest of the Cabinet of Presidents' Woods, and Carr, to remain in their posts. They have accepted, and I have confidence they will fulfill their responsibilities. I especially thank the Secretary of the Treasury, Hermann Wiesmeyer and Secretary of State, Philip Dabold, for their courage and faithful service in this time of crisis. They have joined me temporarily here in the White House, but will return today to guide their Departments.\n\n\"Let me say that I have confidence that America will resolve its present issues . I say this because I have confidence in the American people. As Abraham Lincoln said, this is a government 'of the people, by the people, and for the people,' and it 'shall not perish from the earth.' The American people are talented, resourceful, energetic, and brave. We have come through hard times before, and with God's help, we will come through these.\n\n\"But most of all, I have confidence in America, because America is great. Why do I say that? For the same reason as a quote ascribed to a French philosopher named, Alexis De Tocqueville. He is said to have visited America when it was a new nation in the 1830s. De Tocqueville is quoted as saying to the effect: 'I sought for the genius of America in her commodious harbors; her ample rivers, her fertile fields, and boundless forests, and it was not there. I sought for it in her rich mines, her vast world commerce; her institutions of higher learning, and it was not there. I looked for it in her democratic Congress and her matchless Constitution, and it was not there. Not until I went into the churches of America and heard her pulpits flame with righteousness did I understand the secret of her genius and power. America is great because America is good, and if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.'\n\n\"America is still good. Let us do good together. Let's go to work today, be productive, and be happy. God bless the United States of America.\"\n\n\"That was President Ulysses Pinchon, speaking from the Oval Office of the White House. He spoke for just fourteen minutes, to inform and comfort the nation.\n\n\"This is John Sanker, at the anchor desk of Network News. What you have been watching was broadcast by all the major networks, from our media 'pool' camera.\n\n\"I have to say, that while short, this speech was powerful, and covered many bases. Everything from: constitutional succession to alleged unconstitutional actions by the Defense Secretary; war to peace, from going to work , and going on vacation.\n\n\"Let's bring in Stanley Worth, Network News, Senior White House Reporter. Stanley, it is good to be back in communication with you. You have been in the White House overnight, stuck in there, cut off from the world. The Secret Service wouldn't let you communicate with the outside world, and the Army wouldn't let you out. Are you OK, how did it go in there, and what did you think of President Pinchon's speech?\"\n\n\"John, it is good to be able to speak to you again. It has been strange being incommunicado. Normally everybody knows the press is in the White House to 'report.' But that was impossible last night, and until just when the President began to speak. That is when our communication and broadcasting capabilities were restored by the Secret Service. Until then we were just recording what we knew, but could not do anything with it. One AP reporter tried to sneak out, but the Secret Service brought him back.\"\n\n\"Was he mistreated, Stanley?\"\n\n\"No, not really. He was cuffed and brought back in, but then allowed to rejoin his fellows. He is reporting now.\" All of us were treated fine. They gave us food, and a room in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building to sleep in. Not that we got much sleep. We were all trying to talk to anyone who came near us to find out what was going on. We were even trying to interview the stewards bringing us food. They didn't know anything more than we did.\"\n\n\"What did you think about the speech?\"\n\n\"It shows that President Pinchon is going to be a change from the past three weeks. Lethargy in government, is gone. No one in charge, is gone. Nothing happening, is gone.\"\n\n\"Yes, he really is shaking things up over at the Defense Department. Let's go to Merv Tanner, our Pentagon Reporter. Merv, what can you tell us about the reception of the President's speech at the DoD. What about firing Secretary Ishnik, and most of the Joint Chiefs of Staff?\"\n\n\"Well, I cannot report too much about the reaction. The press during the speech, was thrown out of the Pentagon, supposedly by order of Secretary Ishnik. Armed guards have been placed at the entrances.\"\n\n\"That doesn't sound good.\"\n\n\"No, it would appear that Ishnik wants to make this his fortress, and try and make his claim for the presidency by using all the Pentagon's levers of power.\"\n\n\"But Merv, do those levers still work? Can Ishnik still use them, considering that President Pinchon has issued an order firing him.\"\n\n\"That is the question of the hour,\" John. The only thing I can say is I don't think we are going to have to wait long to find out. If Ishnik can do something he will! If President Pinchon can take control of the Pentagon, he will.\n\n\"This is a test of will and power, of two very determined men, both claiming to be protecting and defending the Constitution. They have known each other for a long time, and have had rivalries, and fights before.\"\n\n\"But nothing like this,\" said John Sanker.\n\n\"No,\" John, nothing like this. Ishnik pushed General Pinchon into retirement some time ago, because he didn't think he was a team player, at least on Secretary Ishnik's team!\"\n\n\"Roanna Jackson, over at Capitol Hill, how and what are you doing? What do you know about all of this?\"\n\n\"Well, most Congressmen and Senators are not here yet. The Senate isn't due to begin meeting until 10:00 a.m. There are some staffers around, and they are startled. Congress, just yesterday, passed a motion recognizing Mr. Ishnik, as President, and censured Mr. Pinchon. You tell me how that is going to work out! I sure don't know?\"\n\n\"Stanley Worth here at the White House. So Roanna, are you saying you expect the Congress which initially made Pinchon, Speaker, and enabled him to succeed President Woods; and then flipped and censured him, is going to stand its ground? Will the Legislative and Executive Departments square off at each other, in a constitutional clash?\"\n\n\"I honestly don't know Stanley. This Congress has lurched from side to side on various matters. It has been dysfunctional since it convened in January. It would not shock me if they fought for Ishnik, or rolled over again, and quietly accepted President Pinchon.\"\n\n\"Wow, we still don't know how this is going to end. We will have to watch and learn,\" John Sanker commented.\n\n\"And hopefully live through it!\" Roanna Jackson added.\n\n\"You are watching Network News, we will be back after a short break for a message from our sponsors.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-THREE\n\n\"Mr. President, General Ucclese is outside the White House gate.\n\n\"Good, 8:45, he's punctual. Time to go visit the Pentagon\" said Pinchon. \"I always disliked that place. I always was considered an outsider, and wasn't trusted by the civilian leaders. I always had to watch my back. ...Not with the rank and file though, they are great, but with what was supposed to be the top cream, it had gone sour.\"\n\n\"Do you want me to go with you?\" asked Charles Adams.\n\n\"No Charles, as much as I dislike the place, I have already prepared for this expedition. I have asked a lot of 'friends' to join me, and we are going to have quite a 'party.' You need to stay and keep track of things around here. I expect you will be able to follow events on TV soon, as I made a few more phone calls, and I think the networks will have some cameras at the Pentagon.\"\n\n\"You aren't worried about getting shot or arrested, when you show up at the Pentagon?\n\n\"That's how Ishnik would like me to think. But no, I am confident that my 'friends' and I will be all right.\"\n\n\"How are you going to get in, the news says there are armed guards at the door, and that the Pentagon is becoming a fortress?\"\n\n\"Fortresses are built to do one of two things. They can try to keep an enemy and danger outside the fortress. Or they can be prisons, keeping people in. Ishnik thinks he is keeping me out, but really I say he is keeping himself in, right where I can find him, and catch him.\n\n\"You asked how I am going to get into the Pentagon. Along with my friends, I am going to just walk right in. After all, I am the Commander-in-Chief. So, Charles, hold this fort while I am gone. I guess I should say, if I am wrong, and things turn out bad, then I doubt things will go any better for you. If that happens, don't blame me, just remember, you guys kidnapped me; I didn't volunteer.\"\n\n\"Good luck, Mr. President! We picked the right man.\"\n\nWith that Bull Pinchon, in a crisp black suit, with an Army red tie, and wearing on his left lapel, four General's stars vertically beneath an American flag pin, went out to meet General Ucclese. He was followed by a group of uniformed men, carrying musical horns and some drums, and an honor color guard from the different military Services, bringing the stars and stripes, and Presidential flag, and some military guidons.\n\nUcclese saluted smartly, and said, \"Reporting for duty, Sir. I have brought two platoons with me in armoured vehicles, and these are the Hummers you wanted.\"\n\n\"Good,\" Bull said. \"We are going to take along some of the marine band, and this honor guard.\"\n\nWith that they got in the Hummers, and drove down Pennsylvania Ave., and through Washington, D.C., crossed the Potomac into Virginia, and drove towards the Pentagon. Traffic wasn't a problem, as few people were on the streets. The events unfolding the last twenty-four hours in the streets of the nation's capital, and viewed on every television in America, had motivated everybody to stay in their homes.\n\nBull said, \"Don't drive right up to the front door. Stop where we can walk a ways up to the door. I am expecting company to come marching in soon.\"\n\nAs they neared the Pentagon Pinchon could now see the TV cameras that were pointing at them. The networks had sent cameras and reporters, and photo journalists with zoom lenses were there too. But military police had kept all of the media over one hundred yards from the door.\n\nThe reporters shouted questions at Pinchon, but they were too far away. He didn't want to talk with them anyway. He had told them when he was coming so they could broadcast it to the nation, live. He wanted the nation to see what he was doing; and he hoped they would also see, that the people in this big five sided building, recognized his authority. If the Pentagon 'saluted,' Ishnik's power base was gone\n\nJust then, coming up the driveway, marched the Marine Commandant, and two companies of Marines, followed by elements from the other Services, all in full dress uniform. Meanwhile the Marine band quickly set up their equipment, and the honor guard formed up, and unfurled the flags.\n\n\"Start the music!\" Bull ordered the band leader.\n\nThe Marine band started playing John Philip Sousa's, \"Stars and Stripes Forever.\" The honor guard then started marching, with the flags slightly blowing in the breeze, and were followed by the marines, sailors, airmen, and soldiers. Bull walked behind, accompanied by Marine Commandant Huffstetter, and three Admirals, two Army Generals, one Air Force General, and one more marine General.\n\n\"Nice to see you,\" Bull said to Commandant Huffstetter, \"and so good of you to bring your 'friends. Sorry for the short notice. Was it any problem to get them here?\"\n\n\"Glad to be here, wouldn't miss it, Mr. President. As for all these, they all volunteered to come, Sir.\"\n\n\"I hope the guard inside that door, is impressed by the show. I also hope they count the stars on these officers.\"\n\nAs they approached the door of the Pentagon, the honor guard and the corps of the different Sevices stopped, and were ordered to attention. Bull, and the military brass, stopped and stood at attention. The Marine band then struck up, \"Ruffles and Flourishes, and Hail to The Chief.\" An order was shouted to, \"Present Arms.\" These formations, at Bull's instructions to General Huffstetter, were not carrying weapons, so salutes were given, and the guidons, blowing in the breeze, were lowered. Bull saluted back, and the band started playing the Star Spangled Banner. Afterwards, an order was given to, \"Order Arms,\" and all returned to the position of attention. Bull then marched by the assembled columns, and boldly walked up to the front door, followed by the Generals and Admirals.\n\n\"I guess we will find out what the guards are going to do now,\" Bull said. \"I am counting on them saluting; not shooting.\"\n\nAs they proceeded through the door, a marine commander of the Pentagon guards, a Captain, shouted, \"Halt! This area is a restricted area, no one is allowed entry.\"\n\nGeneral Huffstetter stepped forward and asked, \"By whose order?\"\n\n\"Sir, By order of Colonel Brixton.\"\n\nCaptain, you see these stars?\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\n\"Do they out rank a Colonel's eagle?\"\n\n\"Yes Sir!\"\n\n\"Then I am ordering you to let us in. You will not hinder us, or the platoons of Army soldiers behind us. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes Sir!\"\n\n\"Captain! 'General Officers are on deck.'\"\n\n\"Yes Sir!\" And he immediately orders his marine guards to 'Attention!'\n\n\"Captain ...you have not noticed ...that man standing there is your Commander-in-Chief ...the President of the United States of America, Ulysses Pinchon.\n\n\"Yes Sir, sorry Sir, I did not...\"\n\n\"'Stand at ease! ...Captain, you are to take your platoon, and return to quarters. You are 'Dismissed!'\"\n\nThe captain then ordered his troops to \"About Face,\" and marched them off, to return to the guard room.\n\n\"Well done General,\" Pinchon said. \"In fact four stars do out rank a full bird colonel.\"\n\nWith that, Bull, and company walked through the security area and proceeded towards the Defense Secretary's office. By this time, General Ucclese, and his two platoons of soldiers had come through the doors and were following behind. The General left ten soldiers to secure the doors, and the rest continued marching behind the President.\n\nAs they walked through the corridors, the various office doors remained shut. No sound was heard, coming from within any offices, nor was there any other noise in the corridor, all activity seemingly had come to a halt. Except for the sound of the steps of Bull and his companions, there was a strained silence. It was as if everybody was holding their breath.\n\nAs they opened the door to the Defense Secretary's office, Ishnik's secretary stood and said, \"He is not here. He and Secretary Strate left about fifteen minutes ago.\"\n\n\"Where did they go?\" General Ucclese asked.\n\n\"I don't know, Sir. They saw you on the TV, as you arrived, and then they ran down the hall.\"\n\nJust then, Bull heard the whirring sound of a helicopter revving up, and taking off.\n\n\"My guess is that Ishnik 'has left the building',\" said General Huffstetter.\n\n\"Yes, he's retreating without a fight,\" Bull said. \"General Ucclese didn't arrest me, and Ishnik's troops here wouldn't fire on 'Old Glory,' and fellow Servicemen so he had to make a quick retreat. Ishnik and Strate can try to rally forces, but I don't think they will find any among the American Armed Forces. I talked to quite a number of Generals and colonels, last night.\n\n\"However, I didn't talk to one particular General though. Let's go visit General Yates.\"\n\nAs they went down the hall, they saw now that there were a number of officers, Servicemen, and Pentagon civilian workers, distraught outside the door of the Army Chief of Staff. Some of the secretaries were crying.\n\n\"What is going on, let us in!\" said General Ucclese.\n\n\"It's General Yates and Secretary Strate, Sir. They are both dead!\" said an Army captain. Five minutes ago we heard shouting between the General and Secretaries Ishnik and Strate. They were yelling back and forth, something about President Carr and North Koreans. Yates was yelling 'Lies, Lies ...all Lies.\" Then there was one gunshot, followed closely by another. Secretary Ishnik came running out the door, and ran off. We waited what seemed like about two minutes to see if the shooting was done. Then there was a third, single shot. We waited just about a minute more, to see if the there was any more shots, and we cautiously entered the office. ...Army Secretary Strate was laying dead on the floor with a bullet between his eyes, and General Yates was slumped over, dead in his chair.\n\nUcclese entered the office, followed by Bull and the others. There was a lot of blood on the floor and desk. Army Secretary Strate lay dead on the floor, a pistol clutched in his hand, with a head wound.\n\nGeneral Yates was slumped in his chair, with a bullet wound in his left abdomen; his head was rolled forward, showing the effects of a bullet fired point blank to the temple. He had a long barreled pistol in his hand. Forensics would later conclude that Strate had shot him first, and then Yates had killed Strate with a bullet from his Civil War pistol. Evidently, in complete shame at what he had gotten himself into, and could not undo; Yates in desperation had written a blood stained suicide note, pointed the gun at his head, and shot himself.\n\nOn his desk, was the short bloodied note, that said, \"Sorry Bull, I always thought I was serving the nation. I failed to do my duty. I never wanted anything bad to happen to you.\"\n\n\"Aw Willy! This is the only way you could see to get out of this mess. You ate a bullet because you couldn't bear to face me, let alone yourself. Everybody know, ...this man fought America's battles, and bravely put himself in harm's way to protect liberty. But how the mighty are fallen. He got deluded by slick, flattering, high sounding words. Learn from him. The General first walked listening to advice from bad people. He then stood among the corrupt conspirators. And then he sat down with those that scorned our democratic and constitutional government. Willy, Willy, I loved you, you were a soldier. What a waste.\n\n\"We can't stay here. Military police and the FBI are going to have to sort this out. We cannot let events lead from bad to worse.\n\n\"General Huffstetter, I am leaving you at the Pentagon, as the senior officer. Besides you are the newly designated Chairman of the Joint Chiefs! I have not only fired Ishnik, and the former Chiefs; I have also fired the Deputy Defense Secretary. The rest of the new Chiefs of Staff will arrive to help, as soon as they can get here from around the world. But none of you have been confirmed by the Senate. Nevertheless, you have to take charge.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\n\"If some high powered civilian tries to get in your way, tell me, and I'll fire him too.\"\n\n\"I get along with many of the civilian bosses. But there are some drones that will have to be dealt with.\n\n\"Sir, you may not know it, but Ishnik had set up some kind of an elitist council of people in here, he claimed it was merely a group of 'patriotic' citizens. I don't think it was composed of just Pentagon people, but most of them were. I have heard some strange rumors about them, and I am certain many of them still work in this place.\"\n\n\"Don't throw everybody out getting rid of them, but if you learn who they are, I am sure the FBI could have a 'conversation' with them. There is no room for secret political organizations in any part of this government.\n\n\"Knowing Ishnik, I imagine it was just another one of his ways of duping and using people to achieve his own personal ends. They probably did not realise that Ishnik was an egomaniac; he probably assured them that were defending the nation.\n\n\"General Yates is a prime example of Ishnik's power to manipulate. He promoted him, Yates was a loyal fellow, and Ishnik slowly poisoned his mind, and got him to do his bidding. That is the reason Ishnik couldn't stand me. I wouldn't worship at his feet, or think his voice was that of an oracle. So he said I was not loyal! Well, Ishnik is the one not loyal now. He is trying to usurp power, unlawfully, and unconstitutionally. But his days are few.\n\n\"I had 'Marine One' on standby to fly me back to the White House. But I am going by car instead. Let's head for Pennsylvania Ave., down towards the Capitol building.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do?\" General Huffstetter asked.\n\n\"I am going to walk back to the White House. I hope as the TV reports my stroll, that average citizens will come out and shake hands, and greet, the new President of the United States. There is still opposition to me out there. If the people and the military acknowledge me, that will go a long way to establishing my legitimacy. That will help me deal with my foes at home and abroad.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR\n\n\"You are watching Network News, and this is a Special edition of 'National Report.' Good morning ladies and gentleman, I am John Sanker.\n\n\"As we have been reporting, amazing and disturbing events have taken place in and around our nation's capital. Yesterday, Army units took control of parts of Washington, D.C., particularly around the White House, and seized the buildings of both the State and Treasury Departments. The press had been prevented from further reporting what was happening at those sites.\n\n\"Then today, from in the White House, Ulysses Pinchon, who also yesterday had been sworn in as 'Acting President,' announced the death of President Woods; now removing the word 'Acting,' and making him 'the President.' He then announced the firing of the Secretary of Defense, Mitch Ishnik, as well as most of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the Armed Forces.\n\n\"However, again also yesterday, the Defense Secretary was sworn in as 'Acting President' by the Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court. This makes for an unprecedented circumstance of two men at the same time, claiming the powers of the presidency, and calling on the Executive Department and the U.S. Armed Forces to obey their instructions.\n\n\"Then continuing these unparalleled events, Ulysses Pinchon challenged his contender, Mitch Ishnik, by going to the Pentagon, with a number of Service men and women from the different military Services, along with a couple platoons of armed Airborne soldiers. Pinchon managed to enter the Pentagon, with a number of high military officers, and the armed Airborne troops.\n\n\"For further details let's go to Merv Tanner, Network News' Senior Pentagon Reporter. What further can you tell us Merv?\"\n\n\"Thanks, John. This is Merv Tanner, standing now just outside of the Pentagon. Reporters had earlier been evicted from the Pentagon by the orders of the Secretary of Defense, and later been pushed about one hundred yards from the building.\n\n\"As you see from footage that was taken about an hour ago, President Pinchon, along with some Generals and Admirals, after a unique and 'interesting' military Presidential salute by the men and women of the different military Services, did manage to enter the Pentagon. Armed Airborne troops followed them in. We heard no shooting, but could not see what happened inside the building.\"\n\n\"Merv, are there any people from the Pentagon, fleeing the events, that have told you anything?\"\n\n\"Yes John, a number of people have come out at different times. What we have heard, but cannot confirm is that Defense Secretary Mitch Ishnik and perhaps some others too, have fled the Pentagon, and managed to be picked up by a helicopter, and flown away.\"\n\n\"Where would they go?\"\n\n\"I do not know, but as I said, I cannot yet confirm the accuracy of what was told to me.\"\n\n\"Amazing!\"\n\n\"Wait! ...Wait! John, another person just has come from the building and is telling us ...what? ...Oh that is awful!\"\n\n\"What is it Merv? Tell us!\"\n\n\"... Evidently, there has been shooting heard inside. Some people have been shot and perhaps killed. I am getting more information from another...\n\n\"...I have terrible news to report, ...again unconfirmed, ...but the man says he is sure of what he said.\"\n\n\"Tell us, Merv,\" John Sanker said.\n\n\"It is Army Chief of Staff, William Yates. And Secretary of the Army, Craig Strate. ...They have been shot, ...and some are saying that they both are dead!\"\n\n\"Do we know if the Airborne troops were involved in the shooting? Did these two men resist the troops?\"\n\n\"I don't have that information, John. I am told by others now that a helicopter did take off from the back side of the Pentagon, and that at least one person had been seen running to it before it left.\"\n\n\"Roanna Jackson here, let me add to this story.\"\n\n\"Yes! Go ahead Roanna, what do you know?\"\n\n\"John, I can report that a helicopter a few moments ago landed just outside the east side of the Capitol building. One man got out and was met by Senator Olds, and ushered inside. What they are going to do there, I do not know.\"\n\n\"Very interesting. The Congress yesterday voted its 'sense' that Mitch Ishnik was the 'Acting President,' and the Senate then 'censured' Ulysses Pinchon, for trying to usurp the office.\"\n\n\"The House and Senate are due to begin their daily session shortly,\" Roanna Jackson said.\n\n\"Do keep us informed of what you learn, Roanna.\"\n\nMerv Tanner broke in and said, \"I can report that President Pinchon walked out the front door, and has just left the Pentagon, in an Army Hummer; and appears to be heading back to, I presume, the White House.\"\n\n\"We will try to see if we can tell where he is going, John Sanker said. But we are now getting news from our 'Legal Reporter, Harry Simonson, over at the Supreme Court. What do you have, Harry?\"\n\n\"We have just been informed that lawyers for Mr. Ishnik have just petitioned the Supreme Court to issue an order 'staying temporarily' Ulysses Pinchon from using the power of office of the President. They go on to ask, that the Supreme Court, meet in emergency session, due to the ongoing contention between Ishnik and Pinchon; and that the court should immediately hear arguments, and rule who is the constitutionally prescribed President. They argue that Pinchon was not a 'Federal Officer,' when he took his oath of office, and therefore was not qualified to succeed the President.\"\n\n\"Harry, this is Stanley Worth, reporting from the White House. I have a question for you.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" John Sanker said.\n\n\"Harry, if the court were to issue a 'temporary stay' to Pinchon, from using the powers of the President, and agree to hear the case. ...who is President in the meantime? There is no Vice President!\"\n\n\"I suppose,\" Harry said, \"that would mean the new Speaker of the House would become 'Acting President,\" until the issue were decided.\n\n\"You mean, the new Speaker who just helped pass yesterday's motion against Ishnik being President, would now take over as 'Acting President,' until the Supreme Court Justices ruled on the matter.\"\n\n\"Yes ...Yes, I think that is what would happen,\" said Harry Simonson.\n\n\"Even more fascinating,\" said John Sanker. \"It makes your head spin. The nation has had two dead Presidents, two other men claiming to be the President, and now you are telling me a third person, the new Speaker of the House, may be in effect our fifth President, all within one month.\"\n\n\"The markets are now open,\" Stanley Worth said, \"they will 'tank' at this news! They want this matter settled. How long will it take for the Supreme Court Justices to rule on this case?\"\n\nHarry said, \"It depends. The Justices don't ever admit it, but they know what goes on outside the walls of the court. They could rule quickly, but if they are divided, or uncertain of their footing in this matter, they could takes days ...or even a couple weeks to make their ruling.\"\n\n\"And would the American people accept whatever ruling the Justices make? Will the markets? For that matter will North Korea? Are America's enemies going to try to take advantage of this situation?\" said White House correspondent Stanley Worth.\n\n\"We are going to have to hang on tight, and ride this whirligig situation out,\" said John Sanker. I am now being told in my earpiece that President Pinchon, or whatever you may think he is ...is at the Capitol end of Pennsylvania Avenue, and has gotten out of his Army Hummer. He appears to be walking down the sidewalk towards the White House, and shaking hands and speaking with people on the street. Evidently many of the people on the street are joining him in his walk, and a crowd is building.\n\nA few minutes later John Sanker said, \"We are now getting a video sent to us from someone's camera phone, it is not the highest quality ... but we will put it on the screen. Yes, we see that Pinchon is indeed being accompanied by a large crowd.\n\n\"We now have a reporter who happened to be nearby, Shirley Chan, with her camera man, who are catching up to President Pinchon now. ...Let's see if she can speak with him.\"\n\n\"President Pinchon, Sir! Shirley Chan here, from Network News. What is happening here, what are you doing?\"\n\n\"I am going for a walk,\" Pinchon replied.\n\n\"Yes, but this is an 'unusual' walk, at an unusual time.\"\n\n\"It is always an appropriate time for a President to meet fellow Americans.\"\n\n\"Why are they following you down the street, Sir?\"\n\n\"Because they want to?\"\n\n\"Did you ask them to come along?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Pinchon said smiling, \"I might have done that too.\"\n\n\"Why did you do that? Mr. President.\"\n\n\"I just liked their company, and am glad they have received me so well. Some individuals seem to think that the people are confused as to who I am, or am not. These people don't seem confused to me about anything.\"\n\nThe crowd let out a cheer, and then Pinchon said \"...Look up the street. People are piling out of the office buildings and coming out to walk with me. That's just great!\"\n\nJohn Sanker here, \"Shirley can you hear me?\"\n\n\"Yes, John I can hear you.\"\n\n\"Will you ask President Pinchon if he has heard that Mitch Ishnik has gone into the Capitol building? ...And that Ishnik's lawyers are petitioning the Supreme Court to issue a stay against him?\n\nShirley Chan asked Pinchon, who replied, \"Mitch Ishnik can run to the Capitol, but he isn't the President. The Congress cannot make him President because the American Constitution has already made me that.\"\n\n\"As for some petition Ishnik has made to the Supreme Court, I believe they would be wise to decline both the stay and the hearing.\"\n\n\"Why is that, Mr. President?\"\n\n\"For several reasons. First, the American people themselves are 'ruling' right now, right here. Secondly, the Supreme Court cannot make me President, I am the President. Their ruling would be superfluous. Thirdly, the Supreme Court does not want me to establish a new precedent of Presidential power, that has been available to every President from the beginning of our constitutional government, but unused.\"\n\n\"What is that?\" said Shirley Chan.\n\n\"The Supreme Court is not the only part of government that has to 'protect and defend' the Constitution. They then, are not the only ones who have to 'judge' whether the Constitution is under attack, and take action. The President also took an oath to do this. No, I suggest, they do not want to make a ruling themselves, and have me as President, declare it 'unconstitutional.' I would then declare their ruling non-binding, null and void.\"\n\n\"But wouldn't that lead to a clash with the court, and a constitutional crisis?\"\n\n\"We already have a constitutional crisis,\" Pinchon said. \"But I am ending it!\"\n\n\"But what if the Congress sided with the Supreme Court?\"\n\n\"As agitated and volatile as this Congress is, I hope cooler heads prevail, and keep them from trying to continue this crisis.\"\n\n\"Couldn't the House proceed to impeach you, and the Senate remove you?\"\n\n\"No again for two reasons! First, how can the House impeach and the Senate remove, someone who they already said is not really President. But even if they tried, the present dysfunctional House of Representatives might well pass a motion of impeachment against me, but I am certain that the Senate will not have the necessary two thirds votes to convict. So the impeachment would fail.\n\nYou see, the constitutional fathers were very wise in how they devised our government into three separate branches. They did this to keep any one branch from taking too much power. They made it so that any two branches, if they agree between themselves, can check any third branch's excesses. But the constitutional fathers also knew, that the Congress, because of its power of the purse, ability to legislate law, and to impeach, convict, and remove, both the Judiciary and Executive; might be able to overcome the checks and balances of the other branches. So it weakened the Congress, by dividing it into two houses, and making a conviction in the Senate, subject to an absolute two thirds vote of all the members. That is true whether some senators are absent, sick, or dead. Today, it means in the present Senate, sixty-seven senators are required to convict and remove. Ishnik does not have sixty-seven votes in the Senate.\"\n\n\"Would you turn the presidency over to the new Speaker, as 'Acting President,' until the matter is decided?\"\n\n\"No, there is no constitutional reason to do so! I am constitutionally qualified, constitutionally chosen, and have no health impediments. I swore to serve as President, without any reservation, and I am and will serve.\n\n\"Well, look here, we have reached 'what is the street number, oh yes, '1600 Pennsylvania Ave.,' and look ...the White House staff are coming out onto the lawn to greet us.\"\n\nWith that Bull, waved and thanked the crowd, and went inside the gate to a rousing cheer from the people outside the fence, and the staff inside.\n\nCharles McKinley Adams was standing at the door of the north portico of the White House as Bull arrived. He smiled and said, \"Mr. President, I thought you always claimed not to be a politician.\"\n\n\"I'm not, Bull replied, I'm not running for anything.\"\n\n\"You sure pulled a 'political trick' out of the hat there. You 'glad handed' like a real pro. ...You didn't kiss any babies did you?\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"You have knocked Ishnik and company on their back sides.\"\n\n\"We have to do more than that, we have got to knock them out.\"\n\n\"Ahhh, Charles said, come inside ...we have turned up some information that you will find should do just that.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE\n\nCharles Adams accompanied Bull through the White House to the Oval Office. Aides greeted the President as he passed by their offices.\n\nPinchon asked, \"What is this information you have, that will knock Ishnik out of this mess?\"\n\n\"The FBI has found the shooters of President Carr! They got an anonymous tip that they followed up on, and tracked the shooting team to their 'safe house,' twenty miles outside Baltimore, down near the Chesapeake Bay.\" There was a gun fight, one FBI agent was wounded in the arm, and one of the shooters were killed, but two others were captured.\"\n\n\"What nationality were they?\"\n\n\"Oh, they were American, all right.\"\n\n\"How had they gotten away so cleanly, and left no trace.\"\n\n\"They were pros. Former snipers, and at least one of them used to work for the CIA. He had been thrown out of the agency for insubordination. I don't know more about the others.\n\n\"The payoff was evidently a million dollars each, hand deposited by someone, in cash, to off shore accounts. That way there would be no electronic records.\"\n\nBull said, \"Millions in cash wouldn't tip a foreign bank ...that this money was illegal?\"\n\n\"Yah, that banker is in trouble too.\"\n\n\"So,\" Pinchon asked, \"Do we know who hired them to murder President Carr?\"\n\n\"The FBI has identified and caught the 'bag man,' and followed the money trail backwards. It was withdrawn out of a \"Swiss account.\" The Swiss are being very helpful!\"\n\n\"...And\"\n\n\"And the Swiss account was owned by a middle eastern company, which in turn was a subsidiary of a holding company whose headquarters is a house in the Cayman Islands. This Cayman holding company was controlled by an organization called the 'Patriot Council.' The three million dollars was evidently flown on a private jet to the Caribbean, and records show it being paid to the assassins accounts.\"\n\n\"How does that get Ishnik involved in this? Bull asked.\"\n\n\"It seems that some Pentagon staff, after today's events, got enough motivation to report to their superiors that they had observed some unusual 'meetings,' at odd hours, to which only select people were allowed. The doors of those meetings were always guarded. So the guards were investigated, and gave up those who came to the meetings. Besides some senior and mid-level Pentagon staff, they identified as Patriot Council attendees: Army Secretary Strate, Senators Olds and France, and General Yates. Oh yes, and Supreme Court Chief Justice, Harold Grantham. Some of those who attended the 'Council,' identified Ishnik, as its 'Leader!\"\n\n\"The Attorney General has the information, and as we speak, is ordering the U.S. attorney to set up grand juries to look into indictments against this cabal. The FBI, U.S. Marshalls, and the Secret Service are all investigating leads. ...And the CIA has been asked if there is any intelligence about this group being associated with any foreign organizations.\"\n\n\"Justice Grantham, and the two Senators are involved in this too,\" Bull said incredulously.\n\n\"Evidently. At the moment we don't know where it stops.\"\n\n\"How do you arrest two Senators, and a sitting Supreme Court Justice? Don't they have some kind of immunity?\"\n\n\"Not for high crimes and misdemeanors. They are being arrested on charges of treason, murder, conspiracy to commit murder, money laundering; ...and after its thought about a while ...probably a good bit more.\n\n\"The point is,\" Adams continued, \"the Congress is going to be scandalized by Olds and France, and the Supreme Court is going to be as well, because of Grantham. All their credibility, their legitimacy in trying to remove you ...is going to be gone when this breaks later today! I mean there are going to be some 'perp' walks, to end all perp walks!\"\n\n\"That hardly gives me any joy. It is terrible. Why did they do it?\" Bull said.\n\n\"They hated President Carr, they thought she was weak, and would ruin America. They could not bear her election. They thought if they killed her that Woods was weak, and they could push him around. But then he got sick, and Ishnik went for the prize of the presidency. He saw an opportunity, and thought he could pull it off. After all, he had already murdered one President, and thought he could get away with seizing the oval office. Grantham, the senators, and Strate all agreed to help him.\"\n\n\"One thing though, do they know who the anonymous tipster was who told them about the shooters?\"\n\n\"That came in this morning. Using phone records, they backtracked it to a throw away phone bought with the credit card of 'William Yates.'\"\n\n\"Ohhh Willy! You didn't know who killed Carr, but somehow you figured it out, and knew you had been duped. You turned the shooters in, and then in your self-anger, shot yourself. Ohhh Willy!\"\n\n\"People disappoint, Mr. President. But at least today you will be seen by everybody as the one and only President. You are legitimate!\"\n\n\"But the nation has paid a high price, and I have lost a friend,\" Pinchon said. \"Give me a few moments, I want to sit quietly for a time.\"\n\n\"Certainly Mr. President, I will be in my office, if you need me.\"\n\n\"Tell Mrs. Roland to hold my calls, and put off any visitors, until I notify her.\"\n\nWith that, Adams left the Oval Office, and Bull sat down in his chair, and looked at the picture of Ulysses S. Grant, hanging on the wall near him. He thought to himself, Grant was an honest President, but he was disappointed by some of those he had trusted. Bull leaned back in the chair, and thought back to the time when he and Will Yates, fought together for their nation. The memories were still fresh in his mind, and he still loved 'Willy.'\n\nAn hour later he buzzed Mrs. Roland. \"I am done with self-pity. Tell Mr. Adams and anyone else that needs me, that I am open for business.\"\n\nFifteen minutes later Charles came into the Oval Office and said, \"Mr. President, let me put the TV on.\"\n\nThere on the TV, was the scene of Mitch Ishnik being arrested by the FBI, as he tried to leave through the Dirksen Senate Office building. He had been trying to go see Justice Grantham over at the Supreme Court.\n\n\"Turn it off, I don't want to see anymore. Justice will run its course, I have confidence in the American judicial system. Let's get on with governing this nation.\n\n\"Let's see if we can cool off an upcoming dangerous situation, and hope that others will respond likewise.\"\n\n\"What do you want to do?\"\n\n\"Order the Monroe carrier battle group to divert course, and head back towards Guam.\"\n\n\"Do you not think that we should show the North Koreans that we are not afraid of them?\"\n\n\"I am not afraid of the North Koreans, but I still don't want those nuts to do something even more stupid that I have to respond to.\"\n\n\"What about the South Korean mine sweeper that they sunk?\"\n\n\"Putting a carrier battle group off the Korean peninsula isn't going to un-sink that ship. It will just raise the tension. If we aren't actually planning to attack the North Koreans the carrier is not of much use there. All it will do is agitate the Chinese. I know Teddy Roosevelt said 'speak softly, and carry a big stick.' We have a big stick, and everyone knows we do, but we don't have to wave it at everybody, while we are trying to reason with them.\n\n\"...And why were those mine sweepers so near North Korean waters? Does bullying bullies do a lot of good? It seems to me that is just going to make more trouble. That situation can be sorted out later.\n\n\"Turn the carrier around!\"\n\n\"Yes Sir,\" Adams said, as he hurried off.\n\nAt 7:00 p.m. the President was eating his dinner. Adams came into the dining room and said, \"Mr. President, the Chinese President is on the phone.\"\n\nBull walked over to a nearby side table, and picked up a phone. \"Hello, Mr. President, this is President Pinchon.\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. President, I am not glad for the circumstances that have led to my presidency, but I am glad the confusion over it has been ended.\n\n\"Yes, I have ordered the James Monroe to return to Guam. We have the right to sail through the South China Sea, but we don't have to do it right now. We noted you thought it could help the situation if the carrier did not approach Korea. We wanted to help you to influence the North Koreans, to defuse the situation.\n\n\"You have spoken with the North Korean 'supreme leader.' They have assured you they will not continue the provocations.\"\n\n\"That is a beginning Mr. President. But there needs to be a lasting solution to the Korean War. A peace treaty needs to be signed, and both Koreas need to be able to peacefully develop their economies, and reduce their armaments. Particularly they do not need to make or have nuclear weapons. That would be good for both Koreas, for the United States too, and I believe it would be good for China.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President, why don't we build on this beginning, and see if together we cannot help fix something that has been broken for a long time.\n\n\"Yes, perhaps we can meet together. Your Foreign Minister and our Secretary of State can discuss it when they are both at the Conference of Pacific Rim Nations in Singapore, in two weeks.\n\n\"Thank you, yes it is evening here. I guess with the time zone difference I should say 'have a good day,' to you.\n\n\"Good bye.\"\n\n\"That seemed to go better,\" said Adams.\n\n\"Much better! ...He doesn't have to wonder who is the real President, and he thanked me for cooling the situation off, by moving the carrier away. He says he wants to work with me to help North and South Korea come to a settlement.\"\n\n\"This has been a good day!\" Adams said. \"Tonight you can get a good sleep. You haven't been in bed in a couple days.\"\n\n\"You do the same, I have over three years to go, and I would like to have you advising me.\"\n\nA week later, Bull had the Secret Service drive him out of the White House, unknown to anyone else. He was wearing a black overcoat and a black fedora hat. They drove to a quiet country place near Fredericksburg, Virginia, and pulled into a small cemetery just as a hearse and procession of three cars arrived in front of them. It was cold, but there was no wind, and at least it was sunny.\n\nBull waited until the flagged draped casket had been carried to the open grave by the pall bearers. The wife, and the two adult children and their families sat on some chairs arranged in front of the casket, and a minister stood to speak. Bull quietly walked and stood near the foot of the flag draped casket, removing his hat. At the appropriate time, a military honor guard, removed the flag from the coffin, folded it ,and handed it to a four starred Army General. The General then turned, knelt down on one knee, and presented the flag to the widow, thanking her for her husband's service. A distance away, three soldiers fired their guns in unison, three times into the air. Taps was played by a bugler.\n\nAfter the service, Bull went and gave a soft hug to the widow, and shook each of the children and grand-children's hands.\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. President. I was told I couldn't get an honor guard or anything, and I certainly didn't think that you would come.\"\n\n\"All I did was make a phone call to some 'friends.' These men all served with your husband. I had to come too. I loved Willy.\"\n\n\"And he always loved you, Mr. President.\"\n\n...And Bull said, \"I know he always loved you and your family, Mrs. Yates. I also know that he always loved the Army; and the United States of America.\"\n\n**********\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-SIX\n\nIt was January 20th, three years, and 332 days, after his own inauguration as President. Bull was in an especially good mood.\n\n\"Mr. President,\" Mrs. Roland said, \"Charles McKinley is here to see you.\"\n\n\"Send him right in.\n\n\"Charles, welcome! Great to see you on this happy day! We have missed you around here. Do you realize you have been gone over two years? How are you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm doing fine, thank you, Mr. President. The doctors say I have made a full recovery.\"\n\n\"You must be ready to go back to work then. Maybe you can get a job around here. I understand there are some openings. You have quite a resume.\"\n\n\"No thank you. I am happy back in Massachusetts. I putter around the garden, read a lot of books, make a few speeches, and live a life of leisure.\"\n\n\"Sure you roped me into this White House job, and then you get sick, and get to go off and relax. What is wrong with this picture?\"\n\n\"It is a magnificent 'picture.' Mr. President, you have brought this republic back from the abyss. It is free, its citizens enjoy liberty, the economy has done well, and you kept us out of war.\"\n\n\"It wasn't all me. People like you give me the credit, but there are some naysayers out there who do not.\"\n\n\"They are just jealous of your success. Your polls have shot the moon, you could have won the election easy.\"\n\n\"I never cared about polls, I'm not a politician, remember! I told you that when we first met, and I still say it. I'm a retired General, and I think I was a good one.\"\n\n\"Have you left a note behind ...that is normally done?\"\n\n\"Yes, I wrote one out early this morning. ...Put it in the desk drawer.\n\n\"I hear that you pardoned two former 'Patriot Council' members.\"\n\n\"Yes, they applied for a pardon, they had plead guilty and acknowledged their guilt. They served half of their four year sentences, and like most of the so called 'Patriot Council,' had been kept in the dark about the assassination. Both repudiated their involvement in the Council. And they had previously honorably served in the military and fought for their country. I thought there was room for mercy.\"\n\n\"You didn't pardon Ishnik, Grantham or the former Senators.\" No, they have never changed their minds, and if they had the chance, I think would do it all over again. Besides, they murdered a President.\"\n\nJust then, Mary Margaret Roland stepped into the Oval Office and said, \"Mr. President, the Secret Service say that the 'President-elect' is walking over from Blair House.\"\n\n\"Poor man, he is walking into a gilded cage. Well, I better go meet him at the door.\"\n\n\"Good bye, Mr. President, and good luck,\" Charles Adams said.\n\n\"Good bye, Charles, you were a major reason for any success around here. I will come up to Massachusetts sometime, and you can show me Concord and Lexington.\"\n\n\"Any time, Mr. President.\"\n\nBull, adjusted his tie, and asked if the flag pin, and his four stars were in a straight line going down his left lapel.\n\n\"They are fine, Sir.\"\n\n\"It has been a pleasure, Mrs. Roland. You may have had the hardest job in this place, guarding my door, doing my bidding, and keeping me on track. You have a happy retirement too, you deserve it. You probably will be the last one out the door.\"\n\n\"Well, almost, Mr. President.\"\n\nPinchon walked down the hall to the east door of the White House, greeting various of the staff, who were packing their personal items into boxes.\n\n\"Leave the furniture and the radiators,\" Bull joked. \"Good bye, and thank all of you for all the hard work. You have served your country well.\"\n\nHe continued on and stepped out the door, and greeted the incoming 'President-elect,' as he arrived.\n\n\"Welcome back to your new, and 'old' home.\"\n\nThey entered the White House and talked briefly. It was soon time to go. The President and President-elect rode together in the big new limousine bought for the next President. They drove down Pennsylvania Ave., the Presidential flag flying from the front fender. As they go past stands, that have been set up for spectators to watch the inaugural parade later in the afternoon, they see that some people have already taken their seats, and are waving as the Presidential limo goes by.\n\n\"I wish you all the success, Mr. President-elect. You have some great opportunities at home and abroad. You may be able to finally get a treaty signed to officially end the Korean war; it is about time! The war has technically been still going on for decades. China has been very constructive in dealing with North Korea. I hope you and President Hu Zhang Win, will develop a good relationship.\n\n\"You also have some opportunities with the new Congress to actually pass some legislation. You and I may not agree on all your priorities, but I hope the Congress will actually work with you.\n\n\"I left you a note in the middle drawer of your desk. It's a tradition. Beware of only listening to a few voices, and especially just your friends, when getting advice. Even those in the other party need to be heard. Especially listen for what the people beyond Washington are saying. They will give you sound advice. This nation is still good, and it is still great. Take care of it.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do now?\" asked the President-elect.\n\n\"Well thank you, for letting me have Air Force One, one last time. I am going to ride it back to Hawaii. It seems like my vacation there was interrupted. So I am going back to finish it.\"\n\nThe procession pulled up to the Capitol building. The two men got out, and the President proceeded to walk up the steps and down the hall to the west side of the Capitol. As he walked down the steps to his place at the front of the inaugural platform, everyone stood as for one last time for Bull Pinchon, the Marine band struck up, \"Ruffles and Flourishes, and Hail to the Chief,\"\n\nA few minutes later, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court administered the oath of office to President-elect George Carr, the widowed husband of assassinated President Caroline Carr. The Chief Justice said, \"Congratulations, Mr. President.\" A big weight suddenly lifted off Bull's shoulders. He had kept his word. He had not run for re-election. But America finally, again, had an elected President. He thought to himself, that is the way it is supposed to be. And yes, he was free too!\n\nAfter the speeches, and the brief \"goodbyes,\" appropriate for a former President, Pinchon quietly walked back out the Capitol's east side, and now got in the old Presidential limousine.\n\nForty minutes later they drive through the gates of Andrews Air Force base. They pull up beside \"Air Force One,\" and Bull gets out. He greets the base commander, and then walks up the steps to the plane. He turns and waves, and goes inside the plane. He walks to the Presidential Cabin and sits in a big easy chair.\n\nThere is a knock at the door. Bull says: \"Enter.\" He sees a face he can't forget, and hears a familiar voice.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. President!\"\n\n\"Melman, I am not President any longer. But what are you doing here? Am I being kidnapped? ...Again!\"\n\n\"No Sir, I have been assigned as head agent of your security detail.\"\n\n\"Hah, you just wanted to go to Hawaii with me. Well, that's reasonable, you kidnapped me from there, now take me back, Melman. I'm on vacation!\"\n\n\"Yes Sir!\"\n\n###\n\n**About the Author**\n\nRoy Diestelkamp is a gospel preacher, working with a church, living near Niagara Falls. He is married with three children.\n\nFrom his own childhood to now being a senior citizen, he has travelled to many countries on five continents. He is a student of politics and history, and is interested in the different form and function of governments of the world. As an American he takes a special interest in the U.S. Constitution, and the many arguments about what is, and is not, Constituional.\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": "\n\n### ZINOVY'S JOURNEY\n\n### A speculative novel in three parts:\n\n### The End\n\n### The Journey\n\n### The Beginning\n\n### Ginny Jaques\n\nWow! This book blew me away! The description is magnificent, the characters believable, and the action just doesn't stop. Despite its length, I couldn't stop reading until I reached the final page. Bravo for Zinovy's Journey, and bravo for Ginny Jaques. If this book is any indication of things to come, Jaques is about to explode into the literary world with cosmic effects.\n\nTracy Krauss, Best-selling author and playwright\n\nChristian speculative fiction writer, Ginny Jaques, has developed a vivid and breathtaking adventure along a journey of faith and love in this uplifting and inspirational tale.\n\nCarol Parsons, Author of Dictates of Conscience\n\nPublished by Millennium Journeys Press\n\nCopyright 2011 Ginny Jaques\n\nPublished by Ginny Jaques at Smashwords\n\nAll rights reserved.\n\nNo part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, of the publisher.\n\nMillennium Journeys Press, 4455 Ruskin Place, North Vancouver, V7R 3P7 B.C. Canada\n\nISBN:978-0-9877520-2-4\n\nThe quote at the beginning of Part II, by Victor Stepanovich Andreev, was taken from _New Star Shining: miracle of the new Russia_ , by Larry Ward, 1993, Wide World Books, Phoenix Arizona.\n\nAll biblical references in the book are taken from _The Message: The Gospel of John in Contemporary Language_ , by Eugene H. Peterson, NavPress.\nPART ONE\n\n### The End\n\nNothing can justify tears in children's eyes.\n\nFyodor Dostoevsky\n\nCHAPTER ONE\n\nZinovy Efimovich Kozlov ducked his head as an icy wind, howling off the canal, whipped the scarf from his face and poured its bitter mid-winter chill down his neck. He pulled his collar tighter and quickened his steps, moving around the building, cursing the iron fence that forced him past several closer doors, and ran up the steps into the front entrance of the FSB headquarters.\n\nHe avoided eye contact with the ancient plaque above the door. After twelve years of walking under it, he knew the words by heart: \"The Church of Our Savior on the Spilled Blood.\" The spilled blood part was appropriate, considering the current use of the building. In its forty years of existence, the FSB had shed more blood than the KGB had in twice that time. Zinovy grimaced, remembering the first words on the plaque. All religious relics should be gone by now, but remnants still remained.\n\nA wave of warm air, heavy with the smell of coffee, met him in the entranceway. He pushed past the espresso machine, resisting the urge, and walked down the hall to the small office he shared with two other FSB agents. He opened the door and stepped through, nodded to them both, and walked to his cubicle, unzipping his jacket as he went.\n\n\"Your fly's open, Zinovy,\" Vladimir said, rocking back in his chair and hiking his feet up on the desk in front of him.\n\nZinovy picked up the stack of pink message slips from his desk. \"Your mouth's open, Vladimir.\" He flipped through the notes, glancing over them before dropping each into the shredder.\n\n\"Why can't I ever surprise you, Zinovy? You never so much as lift an eyebrow when I tell you something. I'd give a year's pensionable earnings to see your jaw drop just once.\"\n\n\"It's because he doesn't care,\" Markov said. \"Zinovy doesn't care about anything.\" He looked at his watch. \"That's why he turns up two hours late for work on Monday morning.\"\n\nZinovy waved a pink slip in the air. \"What's this message from Anton? How did it get here?\"\n\n\"Special messenger from head office. He said the boss was mad. Seems you've been ignoring his phone calls. Not too smart, considering.\"\n\nZinovy headed across the room, stopping to thump Vladimir's forehead with his finger. \"You should zip up your mouth, comrade. If there were anything in that skull, it might fall out.\" He turned at the door, giving them both the universal sign of dismissal, and walked out.\n\nHalfway down the hall he spotted her, and his pulse backfired. It always did. Her raven-dark hair fell straight to her shoulders, framing a classic face—a Roman nose he used to kiss, and smooth, high cheekbones he'd loved to run his fingers over.\n\nShe looked up and saw him, her eyes sending a brief message of recognition before she passed into her office.\n\nHe sighed and moved on, turning three more corners in the maze of passageways before he came to his supervisor's office. General Anton Vasiliev, Director, Special Security Services, Federalnaya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti, St. Petersburg Division. Another plaque he'd rather avoid. He grunted, opened the door and walked in.\n\nThe receptionist looked up and arched an eyebrow. \"You better wait,\" she said, as he headed for the inner office behind her. She punched a button. \"He's here.\" She listened a split second, then nodded to Zinovy, but his hand was already on the doorknob.\n\nZinovy opened the door and reconned the area as he entered. Anton sat at the steel gray desk in the middle of the room, flanked by two tall windows in the wall behind him. Two other men were in the room. Sergei Voronin leaned against a metal file cabinet to Zinovy's right. Yuri Pronichev stood by the window to the left, his hands in his pockets, looking out into the garden. The video screen on the wall was turned off, the only artificial light in the room coming from the dim fixture overhead in the high ceiling.\n\nZinovy scowled at Anton, who returned the hard gaze without blinking. \"You come, Kozlov, finally. Your delay is inexcusable. When I send word, you are to come immediately.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Zinovy said. \"It's hard to remember you are no longer the rug on the floor beneath the feet of this department.\"\n\nYuri straightened, removed his hands from his pockets and turned from the window. The pock marks on Anton's round cheeks paled against the red creeping up his neck. He looked down and shuffled some papers on the upper right hand corner of his desk. \"You are being given an assignment,\" he said. \"Urgency is required. You have used up two days of your deadline with your delay in reporting. The job must be done by Friday, this week.\"\n\n\"Who's the target, and what's the reason?\"\n\nAnton picked up a file on the desk in front of him. \"The reason does not concern you. She is an agent who is no longer useful to us. She has become a security threat and must be disposed of.\"\n\nZinovy stiffened. \"She? I don't do women.\"\n\nAnton rose and glared at Zinovy. \"You will kill who you are ordered to kill. As always. The gender is irrelevant.\" He dropped the file on the desk and pushed it toward Zinovy. \"You are to dispatch the target by whatever means you choose.\" He sneered. \"Do it your way if you like, no blood. Then dispose of the body and bring us photographic evidence that the mission has been accomplished.\" He paused. Zinovy stood, unmoving. Anton said, \"You will do it immediately, without further questions or delay.\"\n\nZinovy put his hands on his hips and considered his options. His first choice, preferred but not practicable, would be to put Anton's broken body at the bottom of the canal.\n\nHe picked up the file and flipped it open. The name at the top of the document hit him like a stun gun to the chest. It took a full five seconds for the realization to settle into his brain, another two for the anger to erupt.\n\n\"You are insane,\" he bellowed. \"You are absolutely insane. This woman is no security threat. She's a competent agent who does her job with integrity. She's the last person to be a security risk.\" He slammed the file down, sending its contents skittering across the desk and onto the floor at Anton's feet.\n\nAnton frowned. \"Help us to understand this, Agent Kozlov. Are you refusing the order?\"\n\nZinovy leaned down, put his hands on the desk in front of the chief and spoke in his face, enunciating each word. \"I will not kill Nadya.\"\n\nThen he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.\n\n* * *\n\nThe windows quit rattling and silence filled the room. Yuri walked over to the door and picked up the framed document certifying Anton's successful completion of the FSB Anti-terrorism Training Program. He checked to see the glass was intact, and hung it back up on the wall. Then he turned, shot a quick glance at Sergei, and waited.\n\nAnton scooped the papers up off the floor, tossed them back into the file and sat down. He gestured to the two straight-backed chairs lined up against the wall between the windows. \"Please.\"\n\nThe men sat down.\n\nAnton swiveled in his chair to face them. \"You both want to rise in this department. What do you think? Zinovy has crossed the line. Tell me what is the next logical step?\" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.\n\nThe agents looked at each other, hesitating. Finally Sergei spoke. \"It seems strange you would give him that assignment. You should know he would resist, under the circumstances.\"\n\n\"Of course I knew.\"\n\n\"Then why—\"\n\n\"Zinovy needs to learn that he is not in control. The last administration was lax. He has had his way for too long. This is a matter of personal and professional discipline. If Zinovy cannot obey an order from his superior—any order—he does not belong in this service. His refusal is tantamount to treason. He will be lucky if he gets away from this incident with his life.\"\n\nYuri hesitated. \"I don't know. Zinovy's our top agent. I don't see—\"\n\n\"Not any more, he isn't,\" Anton said. \"As of this moment, Zinovy is nothing.\" He paused, allowing the statement to register. \"It's his own fault. He broke the cardinal rule when he mixed his balls with his business. That mistake has destroyed him.\"\n\nYuri frowned. \"I don't think Zinovy will go down that easily.\"\n\n\"Oh yes? You watch how this will happen. While I'm in charge, discipline will be enforced in this agency.\" Anton looked from one to the other, then he leaned forward.\n\n\"Here are your orders. Sergei, I want a tracker put on Zinovy immediately. I want to know every time he hiccups, do you understand?\"\n\n\"How should—\"\n\n\"Put it on his Kawasaki. Get the agent in their apartment building to do it. What's his name? Goldov? Have him fix it in the garage as soon as Zinovy goes home today.\"\n\nHe turned to Yuri. \"I want you to follow up on the woman.\" He flipped the file open again and tapped her picture. \"Goldov is supposed to be on her already, but you double check. I want to know when she leaves the apartment and where she goes. We don't want that little chicken to fly the coop.\"\n\nHe paused, waiting for their response, getting none. \"Did you hear me?\" he said. \"Go, now.\"\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy opened the door of his third floor apartment, scanned the passageway outside, then headed down the hall and into the dingy stairwell. The stench of old urine filled his nostrils. Two flights up he left the stairs and walked down the hall to number 59. The muted sound of music drifted from the room. Tchaikovsky, The Pathetique.\n\nHe ran his tracer around the doorframe and got no signal. Nothing planted there yet. He scraped his Air Force ring across the door. He still had a key, but using it would surprise her into a response, and he wanted her quiet.\n\nThe door opened a crack. He shoved it all the way, clapped his hand over her mouth and pushed inside, kicking the door closed behind him. Then he put a finger to his lips. When her eyes lost their terror, he released her and walked across the room to turn the radio up.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" She spoke with a mixture of amazement and anger.\n\nHe gazed at her loveliness, unaffected by the shapeless sweatsuit she'd changed into after her workday, and frowned. \"Anton sent me to kill you.\"\n\nShe stared at him. \"He sent you?\"\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\nShe straightened and the muscles in her jaw tightened. \"Is that why you're here?\"\n\nHe moved to the side of the window and glanced out, checking for unusual shadows or movement. Then he drew the shade and turned to her. \"Of course not. You should know better.\"\n\n\"How could I know better? You're a dedicated agent.\" Her gaze was penetrating, and his eyes fell. She took a breath. \"Then why are you here?\"\n\n\"To warn you.\"\n\n\"I don't need a warning, Zinovy. I knew when I told him I was quitting he would try to kill me.\"\n\n\"Then we must plan.\"\n\n\"I've made plans.\"\n\n\"But I must help. It's different now.\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"No, it's not.\" Zinovy started to speak, but she stopped him with a decided shake of her head. \"We've been there. There's no going back.\"\n\nHe stared at her, unable to accept her words.\n\nShe stood looking at him for a moment, then she walked to the kitchenette and continued the task he'd obviously interrupted. When she'd folded the rest of the laundry, she looked up. \"Why you?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"It's no secret. He hates me. He's got some power now. He's using it to screw me.\"\n\n\"Does he know you're not going to do it?\"\n\nHe leaned against the wall and nodded. \"I informed him.\"\n\n\"So now, what about you?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I haven't thought that far.\" He watched her deft movements as she slipped a stack of dish towels into the drawer. Then he tried once more. \"Are you sure you—\"\n\n\"Yes, Zinovy, I told you.\"\n\nHe folded his arms across his chest and sighed. Finally he asked,\"Is it a boy or a girl?\"\n\n\"It's a boy.\"\n\nA pause.\n\n\"Did the picture show what he looks like?\"\n\nThe lines around her mouth relaxed and she almost smiled. \"No, Zinovy. His features are still forming.\" She studied his face for a moment, then she did smile. \"When he's grown he will look like a Cossack warrior, with a mop of curly dark hair, a stern mouth and a firm chin that some woman will one day describe as stubborn.\"\n\nHe frowned. \"Yes. He will certainly have the firm chin. He has no chance to avoid it.\" She gave him a warning look and moved across the room to her bed, smoothing out the wrinkles and tucking the spread under the edge of the mattress.\n\n\"When will you go?\"\n\n\"Soon.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"It's best you don't know.\"\n\n\"Will you contact me?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I cannot. You know that. I have to disappear completely.\" She carried the small laundry basket to the front door. \"If you want to help, give me a head start. Let them think you decided to follow the orders. Tell them I'm dead.\"\n\nThat was it. He should kiss her one last time, but the wall between them was thick, impenetrable, so he nodded instead and reached for the door handle. She turned away as he stepped through. His last sight of her was in profile, head bent, dark hair curled around one ear. Her right hand, the one that could have worn his ring, curved protectively around the small mound in her belly that was a part of himself.\n\nHe closed the door behind him, looked up and down the hall, and slid a motion detector above her doorframe. Then he went back to his apartment, checked for recently installed devices above his own door, and went in to wait.\n\nThe alarm sounded thirty minutes later. He slipped a switchblade into his pocket and left the apartment, moving through the hallway to the stairwell and running three flights down to the exit he knew she would take. Stepping outside, he slid around the corner of the building, pulled his collar up against the chill wind of the early evening, and waited. A minute later she came out, dressed in a dark faux-fur coat and carrying nothing but a large handbag.\n\nIt had started to snow. Several inches already covered the ground, silencing her steps but marking her trail. She would be counting on the heavy flakes to cover it quickly.\n\nShe walked halfway down the street, checking behind her twice, before a dark figure stepped out of the doorway and started after her. Zinovy waited until the man had settled into a steady pace, slipping along the hedge bordering the narrow sidewalk, then he followed. Zinovy looked back, checking for a second shadowy tail behind him. Nothing. The man ahead plodded on without a backward glance. A good sign.\n\nThe woman turned left at the corner, walked twenty paces, then crossed the street and continued down the other side. The tail faded into the hedge until she'd finished her reconnaissance, then he resumed his tracking, paralleling her movements from across the street.\n\nShe was headed for the metro. Once she reached the more populated area Zinovy would need to be closer. The tail was in the way. Time to deal with that.\n\nZinovy quickened his pace. He took the man from behind, wrapping an arm around his face and thrusting the knife through the jacket, feeling the resistance of the cartilage between the ribs before the blade slid home. He flipped the body behind a hedge and withdrew the knife, opening the wound, releasing the blood. Then he turned and wiped his blade clean against the new fallen snow, fighting hard against the waves of nausea rolling up through his gut. He wasn't about to leave a DNA trail.\n\nHe turned back to the body, ignoring the crimson fluid spreading across the ground, and fished through the pockets. The wallet contained a small wad of paper Euros. He pocketed the cash and tossed the wallet on the ground, scattering the cards. With luck, they'd think it was a mugging, and the blood would throw them off his trail.\n\nHe checked to see that the street was empty, then sped across, following the woman's rapidly disappearing trail to the station. She was climbing the stairs when he arrived, moving between a group of night shift workers and a starushka in a bright red coat. She wouldn't stay beside the red coat long. He cursed her training and picked up his pace, shortening the distance between them before she melted into the metro crowd completely.\n\nShe boarded the airport shuttle. He stepped into the train car behind hers, moving to a spot where he could see her leave in case she bolted. She stayed on all the way.\n\nAt the airport, he watched her buy a ticket, hoping to God she was using untraceable plastic. He breathed again when she headed, unmolested, to the security line up. Then he went to the window and bought his own ticket for a return trip to and from Moscow.\n\nHe skipped the security line-up, pleased to discover his FSB ID had not yet been rescinded, and headed through the terminal, checking the waiting rooms as he went. She was sitting at Gate 17. No suspicious persons nearby. When her flight was called, she'd head off to the correct boarding area at the last minute. Then she'd be safely away to wherever she was going.\n\nSatisfied, he headed to his own gate at the other end of the terminal, reaching it just as the last call for boarding reverberated over the intercom.\n\n* * *\n\nThe Aeroflot flight on the ancient IL-96 took one hour but it felt like five. Zinovy resisted the urge to take over in the cockpit. He texted his contact: \"mst c u. urgent. txt rdvx time & loc.\" Then he busied himself with his handheld, reading the news and checking his messages.\n\nHe cursed the lateness of the hour. Kostya would be home, either in bed with company or deep into the Vodka, in any case not reading his mail until morning. Tomorrow he'd be at work. They could meet there if necessary, but Zinovy much preferred a more neutral rendezvous location. A Russian agent roaming around the New World International Regime headquarters would be conspicuous.\n\nThe plane landed at last and sat on the runway for another hour before releasing its passengers. Zinovy moved down the exit ramp behind a large woman with two small children and entered the terminal, looking around for inconspicuous lurkers in the waiting room before checking his handheld again. Still no reply.\n\nResigned to an overnight stay, he hailed a taxi, directed the driver to the Baltschug, and made plans for a pre-dawn trip to the NWIR headquarters to intercept Kostya on his way to work the next day.\n\nHe did not sleep well. It was the dreams—not nightmares, just vague images and undefined activity, confused and plotless, leaving him restless when he woke each time. The first was about the fetus. Her fetus. He was flying it somewhere, in an ice chest, like a transplant organ. He woke before he finished the mission, realizing as they entered a fog bank he had no idea where he was supposed to be going.\n\nIn the second dream, he was searching for her, slogging through a forest, mired in mud up to his shins, climbing over roots and branches, aware he was getting farther away with each step. He woke with a start, sweating and shivering. He pulled his legs from the tangled bedcovers and squinted at the clock. O-Five hundred. Too early to get up but too late to go back to sleep. He showered and dressed and slipped out the door, checking the hallway for unusual activity before he headed down the elevator and out the door onto the street.\n\nThe bridge was nearly deserted. One man trudged along on the other side of the road, hunched down in his collar, the bulge of a sidearm distorting the line of his coat—a security guard, heading to work at the Kremlin, its lights dim and hazy in the early morning fog up ahead. It was nearly six o'clock and still dark as midnight.\n\nZinovy hated the city in winter. He didn't know what he hated most—the long, dark nights, the unrelenting snow, or the winds that howled through the steel and concrete canyons, always in his face, never at his back. He needed to be someplace warm and bright.\n\nInside the Kremlin walls was a kiosk, just opening for the day. He ducked inside and ordered coffee, strong and black, and sat down on a stool in front of the window facing the street. He waited until 07:00 before calling Kostya's landline. He cursed under his breath when the message machine came on, and sat for another two hours before getting a short, garbled text message, saying Kostya was heading to work.\n\nThe clock over the entrance to the Kremlin read 09:35 when his comrade finally came plodding from the parking area. Zinovy headed over to intercept him. Kostya saw him coming and raised a hand. \"Can't talk now. Got to put in some work time before I can leave the office. We can meet at noon.\"\n\nZinovy caught a whiff of his friend's unwashed breath as he passed by. So it had been a Vodka night. He spoke to the retreating back. \"We need to talk. Soon. Are you sure you can't—\"\n\n\"No. I can't.\" He put his hand up again. \"Don't shout, Zinovy. My head is pounding.\"\n\n\"All right. Noon sharp then. I'll meet you here.\" Kostya waved without looking back. Zinovy watched until he'd disappeared through the double wooden doors that led to his office building inside the Kremlin wall, then he turned away, swearing. Two and a half hours to kill and his toes were already frozen.\n\nZinovy spent two hours circling the Kremlin wall and the next forty minutes waiting impatiently in the Square, pacing back and forth in front of the Spasskaya clock. Kostya's office was in a building just inside the entrance. A two-minute stroll to the gate. Zinovy checked his watch again and sat down on a rock wall, his eyes fixed on the door.\n\nAt last Kostya emerged from the entranceway, shrugging more deeply into his coat as the wind outside the wall hit him in the face. Zinovy waited until he'd cleared the shadow of the tower, then fell into step beside him.\n\n\"Let's go someplace warm,\" Kostya said. \"My Harley's over here.\"\n\nThey crossed the parking lot to the corner section reserved for two-wheeled machines. Kostya unlocked the bike and climbed on, fastening his helmet over the fur cap that came down over his ears. Zinovy got on behind him, hunching down into his comrade's broad back and pulling his jacket up over his head as they eased out of the parking area and picked up speed through the square.\n\nZinovy cringed as Kostya bullied his way through the traffic jam at the intersection and zipped down Znamenka, banking left and right around cars and buses and scattering at least three groups of tourists who didn't know that crossing the street in Moscow was a proven method of committing suicide.\n\nA red light finally stopped them at Arbatskaya. Four impatient, roaring revs of the engine, a green light, a leaning left, a right, and another left, then a short sprint down the street before Kostya slowed down and squeezed his bike into a six-foot space between two American-made cars parked in front of the Hard Rock Café. Zinovy climbed off the bike and wiped his brow with his sleeve.\n\nInside, they found a table next to the wall and shrugged out of their coats. Zinovy breathed deeply, warming his lungs with the smell of burned coffee grounds and hot grease. Busy chatter, a mixture of English and Russian, drowned out the background music, a jukebox jumble of American songs from the 1960's. Kostya ordered a hamburger with strong black coffee, and Zinovy ordered fish and chips.\n\nWhen the waitress left, Zinovy leaned forward and filled Kostya in on the events of the previous day. As he spoke, he studied his friend's face, watching for any gleam of enlightenment to dawn in the bleary grey eyes, but he finished his story without detecting the slightest sign of intelligent life.\n\nKostya looked at him and frowned. \"Let me get this straight. Anton ordered you to kill Nadya, and you refused.\"\n\n\"What else could I do? I couldn't kill Nadya.\"\n\n\"And you didn't just say a simple 'No.' You told him he was insane. No, wait. You yelled at him and told him he was insane.\"\n\n\"He is insane. How he ever got into that position I'll never understand.\"\n\n\"That is not the point. The point is that you told him so in a very loud voice.\"\n\nZinovy said nothing.\n\n\"Just what were you planning as your next move?\"\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"I wasn't planning a next move. It came up too quickly.\"\n\nKostya studied his face for a moment. Then he said, \"Zinovy Efimovich, you are an idiot.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. \"That is neither here nor there. What we have to do now is fix things. Nadya is the most important consideration. We have to make sure he can't get at her. What can you do about that?\"\n\nThe waitress came to splash refills into their cups and left again. Kostya took a swallow of coffee, grimaced, and rubbed his forehead. \"I can put out a regime protection edict on her. That should cover it.\"\n\n\"How long will that take? It needs to happen right away.\"\n\n\"I can do it when I get back to the office. Don't worry. That's the easy part. It's you I don't know what to do with. We need to get you away for a while. Give things in your office a cooling off period.\"\n\nZinovy leaned back, stretched his legs out from under the table, and waited, relieved to see a glint of shrewdness flash beneath his protector's droopy eyelids at last. The coffee was working.\n\nKostya stared at the ceiling for a moment, moving his eyes around the edge of the fragmented mirror above them and finally settling his attention on the golden globes dangling from its center. Then he sat up and snapped his fingers. \"That's it,\" he said. \"I've got it.\" He leaned toward Zinovy and lowered his voice. \"We need a cosmonaut on the space station for the next few weeks. Gregor was supposed to go up, but he fell on the ice Sunday and broke his wrist. I just got the order yesterday to find a replacement.\"\n\n\"The space station?\"\n\nKostya nodded. \"You still have your certification, don't you?\"\n\n\"Yes. It's good for another six months.\"\n\n\"That'll do. You'll only be up for a month or so.\"\n\n\"What's going on?\"\n\n\"The Regime is abandoning the station. They have to bring all the equipment back down, and our government wants their own man up there to make sure everything that belongs to us gets back okay.\"\n\n\"You're joking. Why would the Supreme Commander abandon the station? I thought he just bought a new shuttle. The space program is his pet project.\"\n\n\"Was his pet project. Things are different now. I think he might be hurting financially.\"\n\n\"That's impossible. He's got all the money in the—\"\n\n\"He's got control of the money, yes, but it's all on paper. The whole system is screwed now that it's all under one, very controlling individual. I'm suspecting he's got a real cash flow problem.\"\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows. \"Be careful what you say, my friend. You work for the guy, and he's got ears everywhere.\"\n\nKostya looked around, frowning at the table full of rowdy tourists beside them, and spoke in a low growl. \"Something's happening with the Regime, Zinovy. Fifty packets stamped Top Secret have passed over my desk in the last two weeks. That's five times the normal traffic. There's something fishy going on in Babylon right now—something big and bad. I don't know what it is, but it smells all the way to Moscow.\"\n\nThey downed the cold dregs of their coffee and stood to leave. Zinovy pulled the dead operative's Euros out of his pocket and tossed them on top of the tab the waitress had left on their table. On second thought, he reached down and retrieved a couple of the bills. Waitresses tended to remember big tippers.\n\nOn the way out the door, Zinovy thought quickly. \"When would I leave?\"\n\n\"You need to be ready by this weekend.\" Kostya pulled the Harley keys out of his pocket. \"But that works well for you. The sooner you get out of Anton's reach, the better.\" He looked up and shook his head. \"You're a lucky man, Zinovy. You must have a guardian angel up there somewhere. Six or seven, maybe. It would take that many to keep you from destroying yourself by your reckless stupidity. What have you done with your brain?\"\n\nZinovy put an arm around Kostya's shoulders and squeezed. \"You're my guardian angel, comrade. Once again you have saved my shkooru.\"\n\nKostya shoved away from the bear hug and pulled his earflaps down. \"You better smarten up, my friend. One of these days you'll use up all your guardian angels. Then where will you be?\"\n\nThey parted beside the Harley. Kostya took off up the street toward the Kremlin, and Zinovy trotted to the metro station at the end of the block. Downstairs, he took the airline ticket from his inside pocket and threw it in the trash. Then he caught the metro to the light rail station and bought a ticket on the afternoon train to St. Petersburg. He was back in his apartment by 19:00. He pulled off his jacket and put the knife in the drawer of his table, checking first to make sure it was clean, and headed upstairs. In Nadya's apartment, he made a sandwich out of leftover chicken from the fridge and wandered over to look out her window as he ate it.\n\nThe lids were down on the dumpsters, their contents no longer bulging over the tops. He finished the sandwich, wiped his hands on his slacks, and sat down to e-mail Anton.\n\n\"Assignment completed. No photographic evidence. You will find the body in the third dumpster to the north behind the apartment building, unless the trucks came by last night.\" It would take them two days to verify the location of the garbage in the landfill site, and another three to sift through it for the body. By that time, he should be gone.\n\nHe took one last look around the apartment, checking to make sure she hadn't left anything incriminating. She would have cleaned it thoroughly, but a second run over the area wouldn't hurt. He walked to the kitchen counter and picked up the notepad. No indentations in the clean page on the top, and nothing beneath it. A handbag she'd been carrying sat on the end of the couch. He picked it up and found the tracking device she'd obviously discovered in the lining. He carried the bag to her closet and stowed it on the top shelf beside a pair of sandals.\n\nHe moved to the bookcase against the wall and ran his eyes over the titles. Two English books—a copy of Plato's Republic and something by Kafka. He pulled them out and readjusted the bookends. Neither would be acceptable to the Regime—Plato too Western and Kafka too Jewish. She should have disposed of them long ago. He grunted, remembering the arguments they'd had about Kafka. She was sure the man was a brilliant philosopher, in spite of the irrationality of his writings.\n\nZinovy moved to the window and pulled the drapes together. Then he turned out the lights and left with the books under his arm, locking the door behind him.\n\nThe next morning he found a tracker on his KLR. He left it there, riding dutifully to and from work for the next two days, parking in the garage at night under the watchful eye of whatever agent they had assigned to replace the mole he'd disposed of.\n\nAt work, he avoided Anton and treated everyone else with disdain, playing the part of the disgruntled government employee. It was not difficult.\n\nOn Friday morning, he got orders to report to Canaveral.\n\nBy Saturday night, he was in Orlando, where he bought three pairs of underwear and got his hair cut.\n\nOn Sunday, he received a scalding text message from Anton, which he deleted, and on Monday he boarded the Regime's expensive new shuttle and took off for the Space Station.\n\nCHAPTER TWO\n\n\"Chyort!\" Zinovy leaned on the rail of his bunk and pounded his fist into the mattress. Then he picked up his Personal Comm Unit and read the message again.\n\nBEGIN MEMO\n\nTo: Zinovy Efimovich Kozlov\n\nFrom: Special Security Services\n\nRe: Termination Notice\n\nThis is to inform you that your position with Federalnaya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti, Special Security Services, has hereby been terminated. Your refusal to accept the assignment given you on 4th December of this year constitutes a level of insubordination that cannot be tolerated. The discharge is in effect immediately.\n\nThis dismissal will nullify any pension benefits you might have accrued during your time with the military, including your service in the Air Force, as well as your twelve years with the FSB. Due to the sensitive nature of your work, any awards or commendations you may have received in the past will also be cancelled.\n\nBe advised that the discharge does not constitute a release from your duty to the Regime. You will receive orders regarding future deployment in due time. Meanwhile, for security reasons, all record of your service with this government department will be erased.\n\nSigned: General Anton Vasiliev\n\nSpecial Security Services\n\nFederalnaya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti\n\nEND MEMO\n\nSo Anton had pulled it off. Clever of the dirty _gneeda_. Right out of the old administrator's handbook: give the field agent you want to get rid of an assignment you know he won't do.\n\nCheckmate.\n\nHe studied the small screen, thinking fast. Kostya was supposed to have prevented this. He hit the forward button, typed in \"wtf??\" and sent the message on to him. Then he turned back to his mailbox.\n\nA file was attached to Anton's message. Absently, he opened it, and his gut twisted as the image of a slaughtered woman burned itself into his mind—the splayed limbs, the long gash slashing through the swollen belly, the infant's tiny head and one arm bursting out of the womb, covered in blood still spurting from the woman's severed jugular. And Nadya's beautiful, blood-stained face, a faint look of surprise still registering in her half-open eyes.\n\nHe slammed the unit shut, raced to the toilet, and shoved his head in the urinal. He kept it there, visions of the blood mingling with the vomit, until there was nothing left to lose. Then he reeled out of the compartment, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, and bumped into Eric Glaston.\n\nThe Aussie clapped a hand on his shoulder. \"Whoa there, Kimosabe. Watch your step. You're not the only one on this floating tub of nanotubes.\" The young engineer stepped around him and moved down the corridor, whistling.\n\nWaves of raw emotion rolled over Zinovy as the bloody image continued to vibrate behind his eyes. Anton had done this deliberately, ordering the assassins to kill her this way and document the results, in full color, for his benefit. He stumbled down the passageway to his berth and picked up the comm unit. Where on earth was Kostya?\n\nAs if in answer to his question, an automatic reply to the forwarded message bounced onto his screen: \"Address unknown. User no longer available.\" He groaned, then he reopened the attachment and forced himself to look at the image of Nadya again, soaking up the bright crimson redness, letting it seep into his soul and feed the anger. A firm resolve flowed into his heart and hardened, like molten steel hissing in a water bath.\n\nAnton had signed his own death warrant.\n\nZinovy stumbled back to his quarters and rested his forehead on the edge of the bunk, breathing deeply, ordering his heart to stop pounding. He must go carefully. First he had to survive. The message said he'd receive orders in due time. Vague. Very vague. Zinovy knew why. Anton wouldn't wait until he came home to do it. Someone would be dispatched into space to kill him.\n\nMaybe it had already been arranged. He frowned again, trying to remember. A serviceman had been up last week installing that Rassvat camera. He could have planted a mechanism anywhere, in any form. A time-release pellet in the food rations. A poison dart in his kit bag. A robotic insect in his bedding.\n\nHe ran his fingers over the blanket covering his empty bunk, lifted each corner of the mattress. Nothing. But insects on the station would stand out like pigs at a bar mitzvah. It would be something less obvious, some new device. There were many to choose from.\n\nBut then it could be something more primitive. Zinovy looked at his hands, flexing the fingers. Hands had always been the most reliable method. Anton wouldn't have access to an assassin's hands on the shuttle. Unless.\n\nThe others. Could one of them . . . ? He ran through the list, checking them off.\n\nCharles Carter. The fat American. They'd met once before, when Zinovy had been assigned the duty of \"escorting\" him around Moscow during a scientific exchange program. Carter hated his guts, but he wasn't smart enough to be an undercover agent. Carter couldn't cover his belly, let alone a secret mission to kill an FSB-trained operative who was a head taller and in top condition.\n\nWhat about Eric Glaston, the engineer? No. It wouldn't be him. The boy was too emotional, too volatile. Everything he felt erupted from his mouth, and he was too young to have been trained as thoroughly as he'd need to be for this job anyway.\n\nArchie Berry, the mission commander? He was old enough—frown wrinkles deep in his forehead, slightly balding, hair gray at the temples. Not as transparent as Carter. Rational. Seemingly dedicated to the mission he led. No hint of a hidden agenda, though Zinovy had little knowledge of his life apart from the last twenty-one days. Uncertain.\n\nThe two women, Grace Chang and Ellen Rudzinski? No. Both harmless. Chang spoke often of her family back home, and Rudzinski spoke constantly, always about herself. No agent would be so carelessly verbal, and the worlds of both were too small to include espionage.\n\nThat left the shuttle pilot, Dan Redmond. No indication of any secrets, but that was what made an agent good. Zinovy frowned, thinking back over the pilot's actions since they'd come up together three weeks ago. His focus was his ship. He spent all his time polishing, tooling, rearranging everything that wasn't fastened down. Not the profile of a killer.\n\nIf it were not hands, it would have to be a device—something planted and left behind. Something devious. Anton knew the skill of his enemy, and the caution that had kept him alive for thirty-eight years. The device would be well hidden. It would probably also inflict pain.\n\nZinovy grimaced. He didn't fear death, but he'd be damned if it came before he finished Anton off. He drew in three deep breaths. It would not happen. Not on his watch. And not on Anton's either.\n\nHe turned and walked down the hallway. Grace Chang and Ellen Rudzinski came out of the command center as he was going in, their arms full of clothing. He stepped aside so they could pass. They nodded and smiled. Chang, petite and delicate, slipped easily by him, her dark hair dipping over her eyes with her nod; Rudzinski squeezed by with an apologetic smile, her big-boned, Slavic body awkward in the small space. That one had hands that could be dangerous, but the apology in her smile was genuine. Definitely not the hit man type.\n\nThe women's conversation floated over the sound of their soft shoes padding through the module as they went into the docking module. They were talking about the trip home.\n\nIt occurred to him that Anton could fix his problem by simply arranging for cancellation of the return trip. He obviously had connections in the Regime. He'd done away with Kostya. No telling how far his slimy tentacles reached up the Regime chain of command.\n\nZinovy checked his watch. They were scheduled to abandon the station in less than twelve hours. \"Due time,\" Anton had said. Due time had come and gone. Perhaps a message rescinding their return orders already sat in Archie Berry's mailbox.\n\nZinovy walked into the command center and leaned against the wall by the door. Eric Glaston and Dan Redmond looked up. Glaston saluted, then went back to work sending reports to the authorities below, and Redmond turned back to the manual he'd been reading. A minute later Berry walked into the room, sat down beside Glaston and hit a button on the keyboard. Zinovy folded his arms and waited for Berry's reaction. It wasn't long in coming. The commander clicked one more key, sat unmoving for ten seconds, then slammed his fist on the console and whirled around. \"All right, people,\" he announced. \"We've got another spacewalk to do.\"\n\nZinovy straightened. A spacewalk?\n\n\"We can't do a spacewalk,\" Glaston said. \"We're twelve hours away from separation.\"\n\nBerry ran his hand through his hair. \"I know, but the order just came in.\" He swore. \"I wish these guys would get their act together. Why couldn't they have told us sooner?\"\n\n\"What do they want?\" Redmond asked.\n\n\"We have to retrieve that camera they installed last week, the one monitoring Rassvet.\"\n\n\"That's crazy,\" Glaston said. \"A camera's not that valuable. What's up?\"\n\nBerry shrugged. \"Something about a design flaw they want to investigate.\" He turned to Zinovy. \"You're going to have to do this. They want it to be a Russian operation.\"\n\nZinovy froze. \"Who ordered this retrieval?\"\n\n\"Regime Command sent the order.\"\n\n\"I know that, but what department placed the order? Was it the FSB?\"\n\nBerry scratched his head. \"I think so. Why?\"\n\n\"No reason.\" He'd wondered why the Russians had installed a new camera on a station about to be abandoned. Mystery solved. It would be a bomb, probably. Not an obvious plant. There would be an unexplained explosion. Something gone wrong with the equipment on the arm housing the camera. His mistake. An unfortunate accident.\n\nHis mind raced, searching for a way to avoid the exercise, but he could think of none. Berry knew nothing of Anton's vendetta, and telling him would lead to complicated explanations Zinovy wasn't ready to give. Explanations wouldn't convince him anyway. The commander might grumble about the timing, but he was a company man and would insist the order be followed.\n\nGlaston put his cup down and stepped forward. \"I'll go with you.\"\n\n\"No, you won't. I don't need help.\"\n\n\"You'll take him, Zinovy. No one does a space crawl outside this station without a buddy. You know my rules about that.\" The commander turned away, dictating over his shoulder. \"Get your suits on. Make it quick. I want you both back here in two hours.\"\n\n* * *\n\nIt took them forty-five minutes to suit up and acclimate to the environment. \"This is ridiculous,\" Glaston said as he strapped the SAFER propulsion system onto his life-support backpack. \"Those dipsticks down below have no idea how this business works. They sit on their fat behinds and give us impossible orders. They're probably sipping their lattes right now and wondering what's taking us so long to report back.\"\n\nBerry came into the module to check on their preparations. \"You're using the EMU's aren't you? No sense in dragging an umbilical around for such a short trip.\"\n\nZinovy nodded, saying nothing.\n\n\"Just make sure your tethers are attached,\" the commander added. Then he stepped back into the station and closed the hatch.\n\nThe click of the lock sliding into place reverberated like a death knell in Zinovy's ears. Tethering was the least of his worries. He collected his tools and looked around. If he could find something that might serve as a shield . . . . Ah. He reached up and disengaged the titanium cover from a control box on the wall.\n\n\"What on earth are you taking that for?\" Glaston asked.\n\n\"It might prove useful,\" Zinovy said. \"The real question is, what am I taking you for?\"\n\n\"Man, you're a cranky dude. You take life way too serious.\"\n\n\"That's why I'm still alive, beermat.\"\n\nThey clamped their helmets on, opened the hatch, and stepped out into the dark void. If he hadn't been distracted by the danger that lay before him, Zinovy would have enjoyed this last spacewalk. Space was a comrade—vast, to be sure, but predictable—a macrocosm of his own reality. Everything in it could be explained rationally.\n\nGlaston's voice jolted Zinovy from his reverie. \"What's the holdup?\"\n\nNo holdup, Zinovy thought. Only the probability that they were heading toward instant death. He grunted and moved forward.\n\nThey inched along the outside of the ship toward the end of the limb and Glaston continued his diatribe. \"You've got to get over this go-it-alone thing, Zinovy. Life doesn't work that way. You're not the Lone Ranger, you know.\"\n\nEighty feet from the end of the limb, Zinovy stopped. \"You stay here. They say I have to do this, remember?\"\n\n\"Okay. Holler if you need me.\"\n\nZinovy pushed on, sliding his tether along the rail, looking back after five handholds to make sure Glaston stayed put. No sense in two of them going down if the disable didn't work. It had to be a bomb. Probably triggered by movement.\n\nFifteen feet from his destination, he stopped to position the titanium panel in front of his body. The makeshift shield wouldn't protect him completely, but it might help if the blast were not extensive.\n\nFive more handholds and he was there. He stopped, slid his tether into place, and peered at the mounting mechanism. No obvious trigger device or trip wires. Not surprising. Visible detonators were dinosaurs. These would be electronic. He squinted up under the hood, looking for flashes of light that might indicate a sensor of some kind. Nothing. He ran his hands over the outside, avoiding the bolts that held the casing in place. Nothing unusual. Obviously not a motion sensor or the bomb would have gone off by now.\n\nMaybe he was wrong. Maybe the camera wasn't hot. Maybe they would do it another way. But, no. He knew Anton. The squat, pimply-faced commander would be sitting in front of his plasma screen this minute, watching, his beady eyes gleaming. Zinovy leaned over and stared into the lens, resisting the urge to raise his middle finger. Then he reached around to the switch at the back and turned the camera off. He smiled, picturing the scene back home. Anton would be fuming, yelling at his lackeys, trying to get the reception back.\n\nHe consciously slowed his heartbeat and turned back to the device. The detonator must be in the coupling mechanism. He slid his hand under the hood and groped for the first of the four pins. He took a deep breath and loosened it, cringing at the first turn. Nothing happened. He moved on to the second pin. It came loose with no resistance. The third pin was closer. He tucked the titanium shield up under his arms and reached in with both hands, still searching, instinctively, for something out of the ordinary.\n\nToo late, he found it, feeling the resistance of the magnetic field an instant before his world exploded.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy's scrambled brain struggled to make sense of the sounds rattling around inside his helmet. A voice. A loud voice, yelling something.\n\nHe opened his eyes and squinted at the blurry scene before him. The space station. Ah, yes. He'd been working on the outside. But something was wrong. He could see the whole Kirlian arm, sticking out like a giant tentacle from the core module, and it was too far away.\n\nAgain he heard the sounds, now translated into words: \"Zinovy! Activate your rocket pack! Zinovy, are you there? Wake up! Get hold of your propulsion system.\"\n\nHis head swam, but the meaning of the words finally penetrated. He reached for the MMU controller arms and turned the system on. Immediately he felt the forward thrust against his outward movement. The station receded more slowly now, but it was still growing smaller.\n\nHe readjusted the controls to release the maximum amount of propellant. Again he slowed, but he didn't stop. The propulsion units were designed to allow for independent movement in space, not counter the force of a bomb blast.\n\nNow he remembered. A bomb had gone off. Thank God for the tether.\n\nZinovy reached down and tugged on the twenty-meter line. Still slack. That didn't make sense. He had to be more than twenty meters from the station. He tugged again, then watched with a flicker of horror as the frayed end of his tether streamed out in the distance, the tatters outspread like the hand of a child reaching for a parent. The blast must have severed the cord at its base where he'd positioned it just under the camera-mounting device.\n\nHis heart froze. Incrementally, inexorably, he moved farther away. Glaston was now half his normal size, waving madly, still shouting, his words distorted by static and unintelligible to Zinovy's agitated mind. So this was it. Anton would have his way after all.\n\nZinovy closed his eyes, images of empty space flashing across the back of his brain. What would it feel like to die like this? Certainly no pain. A headache, perhaps, before the final loss of consciousness after the oxygen was gone. The thought that Anton would not get everything he wanted was bittersweet. He opened his eyes again, unable to resist watching the end of his life.\n\nThen, suddenly—movement—fast movement. Glaston shot toward him, hands outstretched as if to add thrust to his reach. He must have ignited his MMU full force. Zinovy watched as he came closer. He would not make it. Zinovy had too much of a lead. But he came anyway, and his hands were now reaching deliberately, slowly but surely, toward that frayed end of Zinovy's tether.\n\nA glimmer of hope forced its way into Zinovy's consciousness. The distance between Glaston's hand and the line was shortening. If only he made contact before . . .\n\nZinovy squinted through his visor at Glaston's tether, whipping out behind him, straightening, not taut yet, but close. His mind measured the length, compared it with the space between his own tether's end and Glaston's hand. Would the distances match?\n\nNo.\n\nZinovy groaned as Glaston's tether straightened to a sharp line, stopping him within inches of a rescue, ending hope, sealing Zinovy's fate.\n\nBut, wait. Glaston was fiddling with his gear, releasing his tether and moving forward, reaching out once more for Zinovy's line as his own drifted away in the still atmosphere behind him.\n\nGlaston's propulsion had slowed. His fuel was depleting. But he was gaining, ever so slowly, on Zinovy's lifeline. Zinovy's life was being measured in inches, in seconds.\n\nFinally Glaston's fingers closed around the end of Zinovy's line. He whipped one loop over his wrist, adjusted the thrust of his propulsion, and they both stopped, abruptly, then hung, motionless in the dark emptiness of space. Zinovy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relief washing over him.\n\nGlaston switched his unit to full power and they both began moving back toward the station. The boy waited until he'd reached the railing, then he reeled Zinovy in like a big fish. \"I told you you needed me,\" he said when his catch was close enough. \"What would you have done if I hadn't been along? What happened anyway? I saw this flash of light, and then you were shooting away like a rocket. What did you do to that camera unit?\"\n\nZinovy's mind whirled at the chatter, which continued non-stop as they worked their way back into the docking unit. By the time he'd shrugged out of his suit, Zinovy's arms shook, and when he stood his knees buckled. Glaston caught him before he fell. He pushed the boy away. \"I can do this.\" He gritted his teeth, willed his legs to function, and hobbled from the module through the hatch and into the station where he collapsed into Daniel Redmond's arms.\n\n\"What the . . . \" The pilot struggled to support Zinovy's weight as he eased him to the floor. Zinovy looked up into the probing eyes of his colleagues and groaned.\n\n* * *\n\n\"Check him out, Ellen,\" Berry said.\n\nRudzinski touched his face, lifted one eyelid, then the other. She ran her hands down his arms, his legs. \"Nothing's broken. He's got a slight concussion, and he's in shock. He needs to be kept warm.\"\n\nThe commander stood. \"Okay. Haul him off to his bunk. I've got to call in and report this.\"\n\n\"No.\" Zinovy struggled to a sitting position, ignoring the fireworks going off in his head. \"You can't report this.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? You could have been killed.\"\n\n\"If you tell them I'm still alive we'll all be killed.\"\n\nBerry stopped and turned around. He stared down at Zinovy. \"What exactly happened out there?\"\n\nZinovy sighed and rubbed his forehead, cringing as his fingers touched a tender spot on his left temple. \"It wasn't an accident. A bomb went off.\"\n\nBerry looked at Glaston, then back at Zinovy. \"Explain,\" he said. \"Why would there be a bomb, and how—\"\n\n\"I was supposed to be killed in the blast. If you report that I survived, the department will make another attempt, and the next attempt will probably involve all of you.\"\n\n\"This is crazy,\" Charles Carter said. \"The guy is obviously delirious.\"\n\nBerry ignored the remark. \"What department, Zinovy? Who wants you dead, and why?\"\n\n\"Someone in the FSB wants me dead. It's not important why. It's only important you let them think their plan worked.\"\n\n\"If he's telling the truth, I'd say it's for sure important we know why. The government doesn't kill off people for no reason.\" Carter leaned down and stuck his nose in Zinovy's face. \"What did you do to deserve this?\"\n\nZinovy glared up at him. \"That's my business. I'm just telling you the problem.\"\n\nCarter stood, looked at Berry and smiled. \"There's a simple solution to the problem, you know. If the government wants him dead, we could—\"\n\nGrace Chang spoke up. \"That's not funny, Charles.\"\n\n\"Well I'm tired of his sneaking around all the time, looking over his shoulder as if we were all the enemy and he's got some deep, dark secret. Maybe he's the enemy and we should get rid of him.\"\n\n\"The Russians wanting him dead doesn't necessarily make him our enemy,\" Glaston pointed out. \"They aren't exactly known for killing off only the bad guys.\"\n\n\"Well if he's so innocent, why all the mystery?\"\n\nZinovy frowned up at the American through bleary eyes, then turned to Berry. \"If you must report the incident, at least make them think I was killed. If they think they succeeded we'll all be safe.\"\n\n\"I can't lie to my superiors, Zinovy.\"\n\n\"You wouldn't be lying to your superiors. You'd be lying to mine. And you'd better get used to lying if you want to survive. It's sometimes necessary in this world, in case you hadn't noticed.\" He slumped to the floor. \"Do what you like. I'm tired of arguing.\"\n\nSilence filled the room. Finally Berry said, \"I have to think about this. I'll hold off reporting for a while. The Speech from the Throne begins in four hours. Everyone's gearing up for that, so maybe the report can wait.\" He studied Zinovy for a moment, then spoke to the others. \"Give him something for his headache and put him in his bunk, then get back to work. We've still got lots to do before re-entry.\" He turned to go, then looked back, \"Zinovy, try to get some sleep. I want you up and around for the speech. I've got an uneasy feeling about this message. Something's not right down there, and I want to know what's going on before we arrive back in the middle of it.\"\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy didn't sleep. He needed to plan. The Speech from the Throne would not be a distraction to Anton. If Berry didn't report on the success of the camera retrieval within the next hour, they'd be calling him to find out what had happened.\n\nZinovy closed his eyes and watched the stars dancing behind his eyelids as he pondered the situation. Nothing would be resolved, even if they thought he was dead. He'd still have to get off the shuttle when they landed, and that would be a major difficulty.\n\nHe considered the options, all ridiculously impossible. He could stay back while the others disembarked and try to sneak out during the post-landing procedures.\n\nNo. That wouldn't work. Cameras would be all over the place.\n\nHe could go out in a body bag, and somehow escape from the morgue.\n\nNo. That wouldn't work either. They wouldn't be expecting to get his body back. It should be in several pieces, floating around in space.\n\nHe might just stow away in a trash container and let the maintenance guys haul him out during clean up. He grimaced at the indignity of that kind of escape, but it was probably the best idea.\n\nThe curtains beside him moved and Berry stuck his head in. \"I decided to call the base.\"\n\n\"What did they say?\"\n\n\"They expressed their deep condolences on the loss of one of our crew members.\"\n\nZinovy released a long, slow breath. \"You did the right thing.\"\n\nBerry shrugged. \"I don't know. There'll be hell to pay when you show up at the landing.\"\n\n\"No worries. I'll come up with a plan. At least I've got some time.\"\n\nBerry pulled the curtains shut and Zinovy continued his musing. If they hauled him out with the trash, he'd still need to get off the base. Security was tight around the complex, but it would be focused on people trying to get in. If he could find a uniform he might be able to walk out.\n\nHe could hitch a ride from there. Across the Causeway would be best. Less traffic than the main bridge. The Causeway would take him to Cocoa. He'd need land transportation to get on up the coast, and air transport back to St. Petersburg. Then . . . . He'd make his own plans \"in due time.\"\n\nHe needed money. Accessing his bank account would alert the department. They'd probably already frozen his assets anyway.\n\nHe frowned. There must be a way. Someone would lend him money. Someone he could trust. Vladimir or Markov would help, but they'd be hard to contact without alerting Anton that he was still around . . . .\n\n\"Zinovy, wake up.\"\n\n\"Huh?\" The world around him shook.\n\n\"Wake up. Archie wants you in the command center. The speech is in five minutes.\"\n\nZinovy sat up, ducking to avoid the storage compartment above his bunk. He put his hand to his head. The pill Rudzinski had given him had worked. The pain was gone. He slid out of bed on legs that felt like rubber, but at least they supported his weight. He shuffled down the passageway and into the command center just as Berry called the crew to the video monitor. Zinovy looked at his watch. Almost midnight, March 31st, New Year's Eve by the seven-year-old Regime calendar.\n\nBack on earth, all except essential government personnel were celebrating the New Year holiday at home. The Supreme Commander had issued the order. No transit was to operate; no cars on the roads; no planes flying. His message was being broadcast, live, at 23:30, Regime Central Time, directly from the capitol in Babylon.\n\nRedmond, Chang and Carter trailed into the command center as Glaston booted up the monitor. Berry and Rudzinski were already there, lined up against the wall where they could see the screen.\n\n\"Do we have to hear this?\" Carter said. \"That mess with Zinovy wasted time. I've still got stuff to do.\"\n\nBerry shushed him. \"Get comfortable, guys. I want you to focus. Those reports we've been getting about the ruckus in the Middle East are disturbing, and I want to hear what he has to say about it.\"\n\n\"We're going to Florida, not the Middle East. I don't see what the big deal is.\"\n\nGlaston glanced over his shoulder at Carter. \"That's why he's the commander and you're just a lowly payload specialist.\"\n\n\"Shh. Quiet. Eric, turn up the volume. He's coming to the podium.\"\n\nThe speech began with all the usual— \"We have made great progress . . . thank you for your cooperation . . . global efforts . . . great strides forward . . . .\" Zinovy's mind wandered. He'd heard it all before and he had more important things to think about. He moved to the viewport and looked down at the earth below, ignoring the noise. His headache was gone, but his problems weren't.\n\nThe Supreme Commander's voice droned on. \"In a few moments, the Global Regime will enter a new year. This year will dawn fresh and clean—bathed in peace and prosperity. No remnants of discord or dissention will mar the glorious future ahead of us. The end of the old year will mark the end of all peoples in this global community who refuse to embrace that global peace. This government cannot allow the wellbeing of the human race to be jeopardized by the traitorous insubordination of a few individuals who are unwilling to become a part of the wider community.\"\n\nZinovy turned and looked at the monitor. \"Citizens loyal to the state have nothing to fear. The detonations are strategically placed. Only those who threaten global security by their rebellious acts will die.\n\nDetonations?\n\n\"If you are with us, you are protected and you will rejoice. If you are not, your lives must be sacrificed for the good of all.\"\n\nAs the words penetrated, shock waves began to roll over Zinovy's mind, erasing all thoughts of his immediate problems and replacing them with a growing general alarm.\n\nThe voice went on: \"If you are among the dissenters, you will die quickly and painlessly. Do not try to run. You are in the place you should be. If it gives you comfort, you may consider yourselves martyrs to the cause of universal peace. I will speak again to those who remain when the new year has begun.\"\n\nThen the countdown started: \"Ten, nine, eight . . . \" Zinovy held his breath, tensing with each flicker on the sound graph at the bottom of the screen. \" . . . six, five, four . . . \"\n\nThe next number didn't come. A static blast cut off the Supreme Commander's strident voice, the screen went blank, and silence flooded the room. The flash came seconds later—a burst of white light that lit up the darkness of space behind them, then settled down into a dull, red glow that played around the edges of the windows and tinged the light in the cabin blood-red.\n\nThe crew stood like statues, fastened to the floor, their minds locked in a blind stupor. Eric Glaston was the first to move. \"What the . . . ?\" He sprinted to the controls, punched some keys, and looked up to the monitor as if he expected it to reawaken at the force of his touch.\n\n\"Fix it,\" Berry ordered.\n\n\"I'm trying.\"\n\n\"It's no use.\" Zinovy spoke with quiet authority.\n\nBerry whipped around. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"I said it's no use. The communications equipment isn't the problem.\" He nodded toward the viewport. The others moved toward him and he stepped aside, looking over their shoulders at the blood-tinged darkness outside. Below them, barely visible at the porthole's angle, the earth's horizon loomed dark and blurry, larger than it should be and shrouded in a thick, glowing, reddish-brown cloud.\n\n\"My God,\" Chang said. \"What's happened?\"\n\n\"That cloud—it's so deep it has to go all the way around the earth,\" Glaston said.\n\nThey studied the half-moon shape of the glow below, silent, again, in their shock.\n\n\"The Supreme Commander—\" Rudzinski finally said. \"He's done this.\" She turned away from the window. \"He's destroyed the whole planet!\"\n\nChang whirled, her features distorted with pain, the vision of a great personal turmoil etched on her face. \"My babies,\" she wailed.\n\nZinovy was nearest. She fell into his arms. He caught her, not sure his unsteady legs would hold them both. She sobbed into his shoulder—great, wracking sobs that penetrated Zinovy's chest, unsettling him with their intensity. He tore her clawing fingers away and turned her toward Rudzinski, who reached out, her own eyes glazed with shock and confusion.\n\nThe commander took one look out the viewport and returned to the communications console. \"Keep working, Eric. I want an explanation.\" Zinovy moved to the central bank of controls and studied the gauges. Everything on the station seemed in order. Monitor lights were all on. He glanced over the images of the external station systems. Both port and starboard voltaic arrays were there. The thermal control panel, the science power platform, the centrifuge accommodation module—all were in place. The communications systems . . . .\n\nHe tensed. Could Anton be watching? Then, for the first time, it dawned on him. Anton existed no more. A wave of regret coursed through him. He stood, unmoving, trying to absorb the implications. He swore. He'd been robbed. Someone else had stolen his right to seek revenge.\n\nHe needed to hit something. Hard. Nothing suitable was nearby. He needed to get control of this situation. No way presented itself. All he could do now was hope Anton's last breath had been agonizingly painful.\n\nHe breathed deeply and turned around. Across the room, Grace Chang sat in a chair, overcome with emotion. The other crew members had scrambled to their stations. Charles Carter spoke from the bank of earth science monitors. \"Archie, check out these seismic readings. A major quake has hit down there—or several—right at the time the video cut out, see?\" He pointed: \"Here, and here, and here. All the major plates must have been involved.\"\n\n\"That would explain the interruption in communication signals. If a quake happened close enough to the transfer station—\"\n\nAn exclamation from Ellen Rudzinski brought them to another set of earth monitors. \"Look, Archie. I've never seen radiation levels this high.\"\n\nThe commander put his hands on his hips. \"It's got to be a problem with our data receivers. Grace, didn't you say there were anomalies in Van Allen belt activity yesterday? That could explain both the radiation data and the interruption in electronic reception.\"\n\n\"But it doesn't explain the mushroom cloud around the earth.\" They turned and stared at Zinovy. \"We can't pretend. What's happened has happened down there.\" He inclined his head. Quiet filled the cabin as his six companions digested the truth.\n\nGlaston stood at the viewport. \"Archie, come look at this.\"\n\nBerry moved to stand beside him and took the scope from Glaston's hand. He stood for a long while, looking through the lens. Zinovy wandered over as well. Even without the scope he could see enough of the glowing mass hugging the curve of the planet to make the flesh crawl on the back of his neck.\n\nBerry lowered the glass and squinted, naked-eyed, at the edge of the globe. \"The size is off,\" he said, as if to himself. \"It shouldn't be that large. And that haziness around the edge is weird. There's no definition.\" He turned to the shuttle pilot. \"Dan, how far out would you guess the edge of that haze is, from the earth I mean?\"\n\n\"I'd say about . . . \" Redmond paused, rubbing his temple. \"Twenty, maybe thirty nautical miles. I don't know. Maybe not quite thirty.\"\n\n\"It could be a trick of the light,\" Berry said.\n\nZinovy grunted. \"Can't be. The light's the same.\"\n\nGlaston spoke, determination in his voice. \"Somebody's got to be down there. I'm going to look and I'm not giving up 'til I find them.\" He vaulted over the back of the chair, settled at the communications console, and began sifting through the channels, his carrot-topped head tilted toward the controls. \"International Space Station, calling Houston Command Center. Come in please. ISS, calling Canaveral. Come in please. This is the International Space Station, calling all receivers. Belgrade, Baikonur, Johannesburg. Can you hear me? Come in, blast it. Somebody come in.\"\n\n* * *\n\nArchie Berry monitored Glaston's futile endeavors for two hours before he finally stopped him. \"Hold off, Eric. If anyone's down there they aren't listening right now.\"\n\nThe boy slumped over the keys. Zinovy looked at Berry, wondering what his next move would be. Commander training obviously hadn't taught him how to deal with world annihilation. Zinovy was glad he wasn't the one in command.\n\nBerry glanced around at the crew. \"We have some decisions to make.\"\n\n\"What's to decide?\" Carter asked. \"It's over.\"\n\n\"We're still set up for the return to Canaveral.\"\n\nCarter scowled. \"Are you crazy? Did you see what's down there?\"\n\n\"Do you see what's up here?\" the commander countered.\n\nNo one spoke. Finally Chang asked, \"Can we make it back?\" They looked at Daniel Redmond.\n\n\"We should be able to. Nothing that's happened down there would have affected the auto-return system. It's buried too deep.\"\n\n\"So we have a choice,\" Berry said. \"We can stay here, or we can return.\"\n\nChang frowned. \"If we stayed here, how long—\"\n\n\"A month, maybe two. Depends on what kind of atmosphere we can maintain, how frugal we are with supplies.\"\n\n\"We've got a hydroponics lab full of plants producing oxygen,\" Carter said. \"That might give us a few more . . . .\" He trailed off.\n\n\"So our choice is to die up here or to die down there,\" Glaston said. \"That's it, isn't it?\"\n\nBerry studied the boy's face. \"That's about it.\"\n\nCharles Carter moved to a seat by the door and sat down. \"We don't all have to make the same choice. Some could stay and some leave.\"\n\n\"No,\" Berry said. \"Not a good plan. The crew needs to stay together.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Carter said. \"What difference does it make? What difference does anything make at this point?\"\n\nBerry sighed. \"In the long run, it won't matter, but for now it's important—for morale, if nothing else. We are still a unit. I'm the commander. I'm making an executive decision. I expect my instructions to be followed. We'll all go or we'll all stay.\"\n\n\"We don't have much time to think about it,\" Redmond said. \"Take off is pre-programmed for 06:30. That's four hours from now.\"\n\nSilence filled the room. Finally Berry spoke. \"We have two options. There are seven of us. Everyone has a vote. We'll go with the majority.\" He checked his watch. \"I'll give you thirty minutes to think about it.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThe deadline came and they gathered in front of the blank video monitor. \"We'll do this by secret ballot,\" Berry said, handing out slips of blue lab paper. \"Write 'go' if you want to return, and 'stay' if you don't.\"\n\nA quiet intensity settled into the cabin as the crew members wrote the words that would determine how they would die. One by one, they gave their folded papers to Berry. One by one, he opened them, read the choices aloud, and placed them carefully to his left or his right. \"One for 'stay',\" he began. \"Another for 'stay'. One for 'go'. Another for 'stay'.\" He paused, read the last two without expression, then put them on his right. \"Both of these are for going.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Carter said. \"That's only six. Someone's missing.\"\n\nThey looked around. Zinovy stood, leaning on the door jam, frowning.\n\n\"Zinovy,\" the commander said. \"Yours is the deciding vote. Do we go or stay?\"\n\nCarter broke in: \"It should not be up to him, of all of us. He's the least—\"\n\n\"Quiet, Charles,\" Berry said. \"He has an equal right.\"\n\nZinovy studied the six staring faces, and for the tenth time in eight hours the old urge for a bottle washed over him.\n\nCHAPTER THREE\n\nSo this is how it would end. The awareness settled into Zinovy`s consciousness, like a cat curling up in a soft bed, as the shuttle moved steadily toward the earth below. He felt no fear. He was experienced at dying by now.\n\nThe waiting bothered him, however. The process could take a while. The landing might go all right, but after that he could think of only two options, both of which would be painfully fatal. The steady hum of the shuttle's engines, the brightness of the cabin lights, the smell of electronics working normally—everything supported the illusion that life would go on.\n\nHad his assassination victims lived under that illusion as well, seconds before . . . ?\n\nHis right calf began to twitch. He flipped his seatbelt open and stood up. Berry glanced over his shoulder. \"This isn't the best time to unleash, Zinovy. We're nearing the atmosphere.\"\n\n\"I have to use the toilet.\"\n\nZinovy pushed his way back through the cabin, passing Chang, Rudzinski and Carter. They looked like corpses already, strapped stiffly in their bucket seats, faces pale. He made short work of his errand and moved back up the aisle toward the cockpit, but the stretch hadn't helped. He leaned over to massage his leg.\n\n\"What the . . . ?\" Redmond's startled exclamation alerted him, but not soon enough. The shuttle pitched violently, throwing Zinovy across the room. His right hand smashed into a bank of controls, sending a shower of sparks into his eyes. He ducked and missed a video monitor by inches. His boot caught another bank of gauges and the cabin lights flickered and went out, leaving him disoriented in the sudden darkness.\n\nThen lightning blazed through the spaceship. Zinovy caught a glimpse of open-mouthed terror on the faces of the two women as he flew past, their screams lost in a blast of thunder. He slammed against the back of someone's seat, grabbed an armrest, locked his fingers and hung on. Between peals of thunder he heard Redmond curse near his elbow. The pilot had to be doing all he could to stabilize the ship, but it wasn't enough. The shuttle bounced back and forth in the empty atmosphere as if tossed from the hands of one capricious space god to another.\n\nIn one lightning flash Zinovy glimpsed water sluicing off the windshield. Impossible. No moisture this high up. He buried his face in the crook of his arm, anticipating the disintegration of the walls around him as the thunderous attack continued, but the walls held. The thunder paused and he heard Redmond mutter, \"Come on Gaia, baby. Stay with me now. Easy, girl.\" Then one last blistering flash burst upon them and all was still.\n\nDark silence filled the room, then the lights came back on. Zinovy wiped the sweat from his forehead, gulped air into his aching lungs, and got to his feet. The cabin seemed unchanged yet something was wrong. A low vibration began in the belly of the ship and grew steadily stronger. Zinovy looked at Redmond and understood the fear he read on the other pilot's face.\n\nRedmond hunched over the instruments, his hands white-knuckled on the shuddering controls. His flight suit, wet with perspiration, clung to his back. He raised his head and glanced back over his shoulder. \"Zinovy, I need you up here.\"\n\nBerry, in the co-pilot's seat, glanced at Redmond, then he unleashed, stood up and moved aside. Zinovy eased into position and grabbed the co-pilot's stick. The flutter under his fingers ran up his arms and rattled his elbows.\n\nRedmond spoke quietly. \"It's one of the vertical stabilizers—number four, there.\" He nodded toward the red light blinking on the control panel. \"It must be hanging by a thread. Help me keep this baby steady. If we're lucky it'll cut loose and then the drag won't be so bad.\" Zinovy reached down to refasten his seat belt, swearing at the awkwardness of the one-handed operation.\n\nA ripping squeal scraped down the left side of the ship and the shuttle nose-dived. Zinovy grimaced as the belt tightened over his bruised torso, wrestling beside Redmond against impossible resistance. They were done for.\n\nBut then, for no reason, the shuttle stabilized. The flutter settled down to a quiver and the spacecraft surged forward, cruising as on a glassy sea. Zinovy waited for the shudder to return. When it didn't, he relaxed his grip on the controls, testing the stability. The two stabilizer lights on the instrument panel blinked a frantic red. The others—green, yellow and a fluorescent blue—winked steadily back at him.\n\nRedmond spoke over his shoulder. \"Damage report, Archie. We've lost a couple of stabilizers. Don't know what else might be wrong. Our attitude looks okay. I have no idea if we're still on course.\" Zinovy didn't see how they could be, and another problem niggled at the back of his mind. The heli-system's rotor housing was located near the lost stabilizers. If the housing had sheered off—\n\nA retching sound interrupted his deliberations. He turned to see Eric Glaston dumping the contents of his stomach into an airsickness bag. \"Everything all right back there?\" Berry asked.\n\n\"We're fine,\" someone responded. \"Just motion sickness.\"\n\nZinovy shook his head. They were all too soft—these westerners. They would never survive in the real world.\n\nBut the real world was gone and none of them would survive anyway, so what did it matter? He glanced at Glaston's white, freckled face and the two pale women in the seats behind him. Chang was in control now, her grief reflected in her eyes but her manner composed. Zinovy remembered her collapse when it happened. The earth had grown large before their eyes, swelling like a sponge in a pool of muddy water, drowning everyone they cared about. The Supreme Commander's strategic strike—one that should have neutralized only the problem regions—had neutralized everything.\n\nNeutralized. A clinical word. Zinovy approved of clinical. He needed to come to terms with the new situation, resign himself to Nadya's death, and to the loss of his chance to deal appropriately with Anton. Soon he would face his own death, and he must do it with calm composure.\n\nImages of bodies—hundreds of thousands of them—disintegrating, or burning up, or writhing in the lethal agony of radiation sickness—flashed through his mind, but he brushed them aside. He leaned forward to check the altitude readings. They were descending more slowly now, their lives being measured in earth miles. Then another red light flashed on the instrument panel.\n\nZinovy nudged Redmond. \"What's happening with the oxygen generator?\"\n\nRedmond swore. \"I don't know. Check it out, will you?\"\n\nZinovy unlatched once again and headed down the aisle toward the service module. If the device had died, he wouldn't be able to resuscitate it. The Russian-made Elektron generator was a dinosaur that had supplied oxygen on every ISS for years, an ingenious invention in its time, but now outdated. Why the engineers had put one in the brand new, state-of-the-art Galaxy Gaia was a total mystery—yet another example of inept bureaucratic bungling.\n\nRussian innovation was also responsible for the gravity-grounding technology that allowed them to move about so freely on the station and in the shuttle, but no one remembered that. Americans got the credit for everything, unless it broke down.\n\nHe grunted when he reached the generator. No sound. No lights. And a smell like burning rubber. Definite malfunction. He reached for the first bolt on the cylindrical casing, then he froze and drew back, easing his body away from the large tube. Had the Russian repairman been in here? Zinovy glanced at the cylinder again, debating, then he turned his attention to the emergency oxygen tanks already hissing their back-up supply into the system. The indicators crept down incrementally even as he watched. Finally he shrugged. The generator could stay as it was. They had enough oxygen for now.\n\nHe headed back to the cabin and slipped into his seat. Berry leaned forward. \"What's the scoop?\"\n\n\"It's okay. The generator's not functioning but the canisters are putting out.\"\n\nEric Glaston spoke from behind. \"Are you talking about the oxygen generator? That doesn't sound 'okay' to me, mate.\"\n\n\"Can you fix the generator?\" Berry asked.\n\n\"I don't know. I'd have to figure it out.\"\n\n\"Well give it a burl, will you?\" Glaston said. \"I'd really like to keep breathing if you don't mind.\"\n\nZinovy turned and glared at him. \"I'll make you a deal. You fix the communications problems, I'll fix—\"\n\n\"That's enough, you two,\" the commander said. \"Focus on the moment.\"\n\nBut at the moment all seemed well. Redmond, absorbed with the love of his life, murmured, \"Atta girl. You did it,\" and patted the console in front of him.\n\nSomeone dropped a pen and everyone jumped. Zinovy turned and glared at Carter, slouched in his seat, the restraint splayed across his belly. They'd all had access to a well-equipped exercise room on the station, but Zinovy was sure Carter had never, in his life, moved a muscle unnecessarily. Zinovy frowned, remembering the time before gravity grounding when physical fitness was a prerequisite for space travel. So much for advanced technology.\n\nThe astronaut leaned down to retrieve the pen, grunting, then slumped his pudgy body back into the bucket seat and resumed a rhythmic light tapping of his foot. His brow was wrinkled and his lips were pursed. After working closely with this American scientist for three weeks, Zinovy didn't know him at all, and he liked him even less.\n\nThe room darkened. They had entered the cloud. The white of the cabin lights glowed an iridescent yellow as the atmosphere closed in around them. Zinovy imagined the sting of the nuclear radiation outside the protection of the space shuttle's skin and his eyes watered.\n\nHe looked around one last time. His crewmates sat quietly, wrapped in the yellow light and their own private thoughts. Zinovy took a deep breath and settled into his seat, willing his heartbeat to slow to a regular rhythm.\n\nThe well-practiced mental maneuver worked. Payload Commander Zinovy Efimovich Kozlov was in control—of his inner environment at least. He deliberately pushed thoughts of their outer environment to the back of his mind. It would do no good to dwell on the fact that this flight crew of seven, gliding serenely toward a contaminated earth, was living in a cocoon, dependent on a mechanically operated life support system with a malfunctioning oxygen generator, and enough canisters to keep them breathing for only another few days.\n\nBut now something else stirred in him, a touch of anguish almost, like a knife in the stomach. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he watched the numbers fall on the altimeter in front of him. He wasn't afraid, but with the time upon him he suddenly knew he wasn't ready to die.\n\nArchie Berry spoke into the quiet cabin. \"Steady now. We're approaching the base.\"\n\nThe sound of seat belts rattling as the crew checked the locks registered in Zinovy's ears. The action was automatic. Like the condemned man's last meal. A gesture only.\n\nOnce again the shuttle began to shudder, the noise starting as a low buzz and growing steadily into a teeth-jarring clatter. Zinovy's right hand tightened around the controls. The sound of the engines increased, competing with the rattle. Then the nose of the shuttle lifted slightly as the reverse thrusters kicked in. The drag of the slowdown pulled their bodies tight against the restraints. Zinovy's pulse beat in slow rhythm with the countdown numbers flickering on the screen at the front of the cabin. Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.\n\nHe held his breath as Redmond switched to hover mode. Instantly the shuddering ended, and, with a long, soft whine and a sudden healthy jolt, the shuttle settled down onto whatever was left of the landing pad. Zinovy felt the definition of a solid earth under him once again, after three weeks of suspension in infinite space.\n\nBut the earth wasn't solid. The shuttle groaned and tilted violently. Zinovy grabbed his armrests, the restraint catching his forward pitch as the nose wheel assembly crumpled under them. Seconds later, the rear of the ship collapsed. The crew sat speechless, like crash test dummies, strapped in seats that rocked gently for a moment then stabilized. One by one the flight noises shut down, leaving only the soft hum of the air conditioning unit in the cabin.\n\nZinovy was still alive. It took a moment for him to adjust to that reality. Then he began the slow process that would lead him through the usual jet lag and the culture shock that always followed even a short mission in space.\n\nThe adjustment would be more complicated this time though. This time there was no culture to adjust to.\n\nCommander Berry unlatched his belt, stood up and moved to the viewport. He leaned on the sill, craning his neck to see the ground. His face, usually so professional and remote, relaxed into an open-mouthed gape, and he swore.\n\n* * *\n\nIn an instant they were jockeying for positions at the window.\n\nAt first no one spoke. Zinovy struggled to make sense of what he saw. Nothing in the scene before him fit any reality he'd known. Form was there, of some kind, but the atmosphere was unreal.\n\nEllen Rudzinski finally broke the silence. \"It's so bright. It should hurt our eyes. Why doesn't it?\"\n\nNo one answered.\n\n\"I wonder what causes that rippling rainbow effect.\" Glaston said.\n\nChang pressed her nose against the glass. \"It's beautiful.\"\n\nBerry looked up from the monitors. \"It's deadly,\" he reminded her.\n\nThen the radio came to life and Zinovy's heart leapt like a Geiger counter in a nuclear waste dump. The sound of a human voice coming from somewhere outside the shuttle reverberated through the cabin: \"Mission Control to Galaxy Gaia, Mission Control to Galaxy Gaia, come in, please.\"\n\nGlaston rushed to the console, punched a button and spoke into the mike. \"Houston! We're here. We just landed. What's up, mate?\"\n\n\"It's not Houston. It's Canaveral. Hold on.\" A pause at the other end and another person came on the line: \"Berry? Are you there? Over.\"\n\n\"Anderson,\" Berry said. \"Where are you?\"\n\n\"We're underground. Moved down a week ago. It saved our hides, I guess. Something's happened. We're not sure what. Felt like an earthquake—a big one—and we haven't made contact since with anyone except you.\"\n\n\"We may be all that's left. No sign of people from this vantage point anyway. I don't even know where we landed. Nothing looks familiar.\"\n\n\"According to our readings you're locked down to the landing pad just outside the main facility. Can you see it?\"\n\nThe Canaveral launch facility, a series of buildings located northeast of the runway, should have towered well above the shuttle in its touchdown position, but the old Crawlerway, the Vehicle Assembly Building—everything was gone.\n\n\"There's no sign of the facility or anything structural, not even rubble,\" Berry said. \"And the air is full of a bright, colorful fog, or haze. It's got to be radiation. We're showing extremely high readings outside the ship. But we shouldn't be able to see radiation. It's bizarre.\"\n\n\"What's your visibility?\"\n\n\"It's hazy, but we can see to the horizon. We're in a large clearing roughly the shape of the landing pad, but it's not concrete. It's covered with some kind of low-lying green material.\"\n\n\"Green?\" the Canaveral base commander said. \"You mean like camouflage?\"\n\n\"No. Like chlorophyll. It looks like vegetation.\"\n\nThe base was silent for a moment. Zinovy guessed Berry's sanity was being questioned down below.\n\n\"It can't be. The base is covered with tarmac.\"\n\n\"I know, but that's what it looks like. And nothing else is here. No tarmac, for sure.\" Berry sat down at the console. \"We saw something from the Station last night. A nuclear explosion by our read, and it wasn't just local.\"\n\n\"Damn.\" Again the base was quiet while Anderson digested this information. \"We were jolted, big time, but it felt more like a long earthquake than an explosion. The motion was strange, not rolling—more a sideways movement, and a sound like something scraping across granite.\"\n\n\"What's the damage?\"\n\n\"We're still assessing. Our life support system survived down here. We haven't gone up top yet.\"\n\n\"You might want to hold off on that. This atmosphere doesn't look good for breathing.\"\n\nBerry and Anderson talked on, making plans, or trying to. All avenues they explored led down claustrophobic tunnels toward closed doors. Zinovy made another bathroom trip, stopping on the way to check the oxygen supply. When he got back the commanders were still talking. He turned to go, but Berry stopped him. \"Zinovy, look into the problem with the oxygen generator, will you? Fix it if you can.\"\n\n\"I'll try. I helped service one like it on a submarine once, but I don't remember much.\"\n\n\"Well, you're the best we've got. Do what you can.\"\n\nBerry turned back to his console. Zinovy hesitated. The commander glanced over his shoulder. \"What's the problem?\"\n\n\"The generator will consume a lot of power.\"\n\n\"I know that. But oxygen is crucial. How much is left in the back up canisters?\" He frowned at Zinovy's answer, threw up his hands and said, \"Work on the generator. We need to buy more time even if it's expensive.\" Then Berry was on the comm line again, talking with Anderson about radiation levels. Zinovy heard him report the readings from the sensors outside the ship and cringed. No reason to bother with the generator. They'd fry before they ran out of oxygen.\n\nZinovy squeezed through the galley past Chang and Rudzinski, moved down the passageway to the service module, and stopped before the oxygen generator. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but nothing had appeared out of the ordinary on the camera either.\n\nThe generator sat too close to the back up system. If it exploded, all their oxygen would be gone instantly. He debated. It wasn't likely the Russian repairman had rigged the generator. The malfunction was more likely the result of the disturbance they'd passed through. Still, he moved cautiously, sliding his hands around the back of the cylindrical cover, finding the bolts, loosening them. He breathed again when the case slipped off without incident.\n\nTubes and wires sprawled across both sides of the main core like scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. How to begin? Ah. He pulled a dog-eared manual from a slot on the wall. The booklet gave instructions in both Russian and English but the English translation was full of errors. He shook his head and transferred his attention to the layout. One set of wires in the signal and command unit sat askew. He tried to grasp the connector, but his hands were too big.\n\nHe rummaged through a nearby toolbox, pulled out a pair of plastic tongs, and prodded the apparatus. Sparks flew, startling him, but there was no explosion. A blackened area appeared in the center of the mass of wires. He swore, slammed the cover back on the machine and went off to report to Berry. \"It's kaput,\" he said, slicing his hand across his throat.\n\n\"What's the supply situation again?\"\n\n\"Both backup supply tanks are full.\"\n\n\"How many days?\"\n\n\"Should be about seven. Eight if we're lucky.\"\n\nThe commander grimaced. \"Well, we'll just have to live with the situation.\"\n\nBut they wouldn't live with it, they'd die with it, and Zinovy hated waiting. He walked away, wishing there were fewer oxygen tanks.\n\nHe wandered into the main cabin and looked around. Glittering shards of colored light flickered through the large windows, turning the gray walls a glistening silver and casting rainbow colors over the heads of the crew members as they lounged around the room. Zinovy propped himself against a doorframe and studied them. He could smell the tension in the close cabin air.\n\nGlaston leaned on the windowsill, frowning at the ground below. Chang and Rudzinski sat behind him, looking out at the sky. Redmond slumped in a chair away from the windows, chin on chest, eyes closed, seemingly disengaged. Charles Carter sat at the table writing in a field notebook. Zinovy smirked.\n\nAs if a field still existed.\n\nGlaston spoke. \"Can't figure out how this could have happened,\" he said. \"If it's the same all over the world, like it is here, it would have to have been a bloody big event.\"\n\nRedmond sat up and stretched. \"We shouldn't be surprised. It was only a matter of time before the splitting of the atom destroyed us all.\"\n\n\"Maybe it wasn't nuclear.\" Rudzinski said. \"Nuclear weapons were banned years ago.\"\n\nThe corners of Redmond's mouth turned up, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. \"Don't be naïve. Nuclear arsenals don't go away, they just go underground. I mean that literally. What do you think the government did with all the nukes they collected when they enforced the ban?\"\n\n\"That still doesn't explain how it happened.\" Carter frowned and chewed on a fingernail. \"Something had to have triggered it—something the Supreme Commander did.\"\n\n\"We know that much, boofhead,\" Glaston said. \"We heard the announcement. It was countdown to doomsday, right then and there.\"\n\n\"No. The Regime couldn't have been the cause.\" All eyes turned to Zinovy and he paused. When no one spoke, he continued: \"The Commander began the countdown, but he didn't finish it.\"\n\nThey were silent for a moment. \"He's right,\" Glaston said. \"The countdown didn't get past six or seven. Something happened before the trigger went off.\"\n\nGrace Chang looked up. \"The Speech from the Throne announced a strategic strike.\"\n\n\"Then it wouldn't have been nuclear,\" Glaston said. \"There's no way he could have contained a nuclear event.\" He ran a finger along the windowsill, studying the seams. \"You know what? It could have been hydrogen explosions. They could be localized.\"\n\nChang straightened in her chair. \"Of course. That makes perfect sense. Remember the big push a few years ago to develop hydrogen plants? Three were installed in the province I grew up in. It was part of the government's international program to develop fuel cell technology. Hundreds were built, all over the world.\"\n\nShe was right. Zinovy had been in Israel two years ago on assignment. Jerusalem was surrounded with hydrogen plants.\n\n\"So,\" Glaston said, \"If the Supreme Commander wanted to get rid of the trouble spots, he could just rig a trigger device in each of the plants.\" He looked up at them. \"It would be easy enough to set them off, from one place, at one time, with the right electronic program.\"\n\n\"But the radiation,\" Rudzinski said. \"Hydrogen explosions wouldn't have left dirty air.\"\n\n\"What if the strategic attacks triggered a nuclear event—a chain reaction?\" Chang said. \"If the detonations at the hydrogen plants—even one of them—went underground and hit a nuclear arsenal . . . \" She paused. \"But, no, that still doesn't explain why it happened before the countdown ended.\"\n\nGlaston scratched his head, leaving a tuft of red hair standing up behind his right ear. \"This thing—what if it wasn't connected with the Supreme Commander's plans at all—what if it was a coincidence—something else that just happened at the same time?\"\n\nCarter slammed his field notebook shut. \"Doesn't do any good to talk about it. We'll never know.\" He pulled himself to his feet and stomped out of the room.\n\nThe rest of Zinovy's colleagues sat thinking, working the theories, as if discovering the cause would somehow mitigate the effect. Why did people always think that explaining a problem meant they'd solved it? Fixing the problem was the real issue, and this problem was unfixable.\n\nZinovy stared at the walls. Plasma screens stared back, like giant insect eyes. Wires reached out, dangling awkwardly from useless audio/video plugs, like the arms of mourners standing around a casket, waiting for the funeral to begin. He'd been doing too much thinking. He needed to get away, but there was no place to go. So he paced, in military fashion.\n\nOne, two, three, four, five. His first steps from the galley door took him past the commander's berth. Curtains tied back, bedroll wrinkle-free. Zinovy could have bounced a coin on his bed.\n\nSix, seven, eight, nine, ten—past Redmond's berth. Curtains hanging limp on one side. The tie had come undone. Bedroll rumpled. A manual on visual flight rules lay open face down on the blanket.\n\nEleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, past Carter's bunk. The curtains were drawn. A slit of light shone between them. The resident was home, probably working on his everlasting field notebooks.\n\nAnother five steps took him between the women's berths to the bathrooms. Then he was in the lab. A long march. Fifteen military steps to be exact. He glanced around at the bioracks. They still sported their old labels. Carter had not cleaned up in this room. He whirled on his heel and started back, moving through the passageway, past the bathrooms, past the women's berths, past Glaston's bunk and his own.\n\nHe stopped to flick a piece of lint from his blanket and smooth an imaginary indentation from his pillow, then marched on to the empty berth across from the commander's—the one they used for dirty laundry and paper waste. Redmond's flight jacket lay there, along with the tee shirt Glaston had been wearing for the last three days. The lettering on the shirt was half hidden in its crumpled folds, but Zinovy knew the saying by heart. \"Ain't no flies on me, mate,\" he muttered in rhythm with his next six steps.\n\nHe was halfway through the galley now, on his way toward the control panels at the front of the cockpit. When he reached that point, he heeled and marched back to the communications console.\n\nThe two commanders were deep in discussion again. \"Look,\" Anderson said. \"Our support systems are okay and we've got supplies—adequate for now anyway. If you could somehow get down here with us . . . \"\n\n\"How? We can't extract the crew without exposing them to radiation.\"\n\n\"You have Extravehicular Mobility Units.\"\n\n\"Yes, but I don't know if they'd provide enough protection. They've never been tested in levels this high. I'm not convinced they'd help long enough to make a successful transfer. It would take us a while to get to you.\"\n\n\"True,\" Anderson said. \"And that brings up another problem. We'd have to open up to let you in. How could we do that without contaminating our system?\"\n\nBerry considered. \"You could open the outer hatch without contaminating the whole system. Just keep the inner hatch closed.\"\n\n\"But we've got no way of decontaminating the outer hatch so we could let you in.\"\n\n\"Damn, that's right. There's no way you could keep your system secure.\"\n\nThey were quiet for a moment. Then Berry said, \"You know, it can't be done. Not without jeopardizing your entire group. We'll just have to fend for ourselves.\"\n\n\"There's got to be a way. We can't leave you up there alone.\" Anderson left off the words, \"to die,\" but Zinovy heard them anyway.\n\nZinovy took a few more steps and entered the galley. Glaston joined him. They stood together, listening to impossible solutions bouncing back and forth between the cabin and the underground base. Finally the boy spoke. \"Archie's a bloody good commander.\"\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\nGlaston squinted at him. \"What about you? Why aren't you a commander? You've got the personality for it.\"\n\nZinovy studied the young man for a moment, then looked away. \"I wouldn't want that kind of job.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"Too much responsibility.\"\n\n\"But the power. Wouldn't you want that? You strike me as one who would enjoy having some power.\"\n\n\"Power's a burden. And it ties you to a desk.\"\n\nGlaston nodded. \"I know what you mean. I've never been too ambitious myself. Give me my electronic thingummys and pay me a decent wage to fiddle with them and I'm happy. But you—you're a savvy bloke. It seems a waste.\"\n\nThey stood in a companionable silence for a while. Then Zinovy spoke: \"I never thanked you, by the way.\"\n\n\"What? Oh. The tether incident.\"\n\nZinovy glanced at him. \"Yeah. The incident where you saved my life.\"\n\nGlaston smiled. \"Just consider me your own personal guardian angel.\"\n\nThe remark sobered Zinovy. If his Russian guardian angel had survived Anton's plots and intrigues, he'd have been burned alive in the holocaust. And Nadya—that other Russian angel. His heart skipped a beat. What had her death been like?\n\nZinovy jumped, startled out of his painful memories by a thundering crash that rattled the cabin. He stood stunned for an instant, then tore off down the corridor toward the back of the ship, Glaston fast on his heels.\n\nThey found the problem in the lab. Redmond flew across the room, knocking a rack of trays down as he landed. Carter was on top of him in a second, banging the pilot's head against the floor.\n\nZinovy landed on top of them both. He grabbed Carter by the hair and jerked his head back. Glaston pounced on all three. Berry barked an order and everyone fell back, panting. Zinovy looked up. Chang and Rudzinski stood watching from the lab door.\n\nBerry scowled down at them. \"What's the meaning of this?\"\n\nRedmond and Carter glared at each other. Carter reached up and swatted Zinovy's hand away.\n\n\"He attacked me,\" Redmond said. \"I was just walking by and he came at me like a madman.\"\n\nCarter burst out. \"He was not just walking by. He was taking the labels off the bio racks and switching them around. He was trying to sabotage my research. I spent months on this project and this idiot comes in and ruins everything.\"\n\n\"I was not moving them around. I was throwing them away. I was cleaning up my ship.\" Redmond emphasized the pronoun. \"You finished this project weeks ago.\" The pilot turned to Berry. \"He told me if I let him do his project in the shuttle he'd have the mess all cleaned up by the time we were ready to go home. Well, he didn't. This place is a mess.\"\n\nBerry put his hands on his hips. \"It's certainly a mess now.\"\n\nCarter interjected. \"It was not a mess. Everything was gone but the labels. I wanted to check them one more time to make sure I'd entered the data correctly. Now that's impossible.\" He lurched to his feet and hitched his pants up.\n\n\"That's enough,\" Berry said. \"I want you both to put this room back in order, and I expect you to act like professionals from now on.\"\n\nThe crew turned to go, leaving the two men to deal with the residue of their quarrel. Berry went back to his conversation with Anderson and Zinovy went back to the galley, restless after the disturbing memories his conversation with Glaston had stirred.\n\nThe voices of the commanders, muted now, continued to filter through the cabin, the sound rising and falling rhythmically. Zinovy stretched his back, still sore from the beating he'd taken on the way down. He sat down at the table, the flood of memories continuing, most of them of Nadya, all of them depressing. He succumbed to the gloom for a while, then he rose and did his pacing routine again, from the control room to the lab and back.\n\nThe lab had been cleaned up. Some of the stacks were bent, but the trays were all in place. Half the labels were gone, but the rest remained. Redmond's bed was made and the book had been put away. Carter was in his berth, curtains closed, lights out. The march had not stilled Zinovy's restlessness. He repeated the pattern five more times, then sat down at the galley table and put his head in his hands.\n\nEventually the long day ended. Berry nudged the crew from their anxious lethargy. \"Come on folks. We need to get to bed.\" Zinovy headed down the passageway to the sleeping quarters but Berry stopped him.\n\n\"Zinovy, I want to talk to you. You too, Grace.\" He caught Chang's arm as she moved past, waited until the rest had left, then turned to the two astronauts. \"People are too tense. Zinovy, I want you to keep your eye on the situation. If things look like they might get out of hand, you need to help me crack down. We can't have any more of that.\" He gestured toward the lab. \"It's bad for what little morale we have left and it's not good for the ship either. Did you notice the shuttle rocking when they fought?\"\n\n\"I noticed,\" Chang said. \"And the extra exertion doesn't help our oxygen supply either.\"\n\n\"You're right. It probably cost us an hour or two.\" Berry tapped the clipboard in Chang's hand. \"Check the supply and record the current figures.\"\n\nChang nodded.\n\nBerry turned back to Zinovy. \"So help me here, okay? I'm counting on you both to keep a level head. Everyone's in survival mode now. The tension will only get worse.\"\n\nZinovy nodded, but said nothing. The air had been too full of words today.\n\nCHAPTER FOUR\n\nThe next morning Berry called a meeting.\n\nIt was a formality. The last twenty-four hours had been one long crew meeting, but after lunch Zinovy gathered with the others to make the worries official. He stood at the back of the room, arms crossed.\n\nBerry began by stating current realities. Chang made notes in the ship's log:\n\n1. We made it home safely. Thanks to everyone for the great teamwork that has brought us this far.\n\nHa, Zinovy thought. What planet has he been living on?\n\n2. We will continue to be a team in the decisions we make and the way we carry them out.\n\nMars, maybe.\n\n3. The options are as follows:\n\nCalmly and deliberately, Berry listed them and Chang wrote them down.\n\n\"First, we can remain in the shuttle until life support runs out.\" He paused, giving them time to consider this possibility. \"The water supply is adequate for two months if we conserve. Food stores will last a while longer. The oxygen—that's our main concern. The malfunction of the generator dealt us a major blow.\"\n\nHe glanced at Carter and Redmond. \"The little . . . \" Here he paused again, looking for the right word. \" . . . the little altercation in the back room didn't help any.\"\n\nRedmond bowed his head, Carter frowned, and Berry continued. \"From this point on,\" he said, looking at his watch, \"we have roughly a hundred and ninety hours of oxygen left, if we avoid strenuous activity\"—he glanced at Carter—\"and if we all sleep a normal eight hours every night.\" He did the math for them: \"That's seven or eight days.\"\n\nAgain he gave them a chance to digest the information, looking from one to the other. \"Any questions or comments at this point?\"\n\n\"That's assuming we all continue to breathe, right?\" Glaston said. The black humor broke some of the tension. They laughed, not uproariously, then grew quiet.\n\nZinovy studied the commander. He was an analytical man, considering all angles before making a move. Zinovy approved of that approach.\n\n\"That's option number one.\" Berry went on, \"Option number two involves a more immediate risk, but it's a consideration. We could leave the spacecraft any time during the next few days and take our chances at surviving in the atmosphere outside.\"\n\nHe looked at the floor for a minute, then back up into their faces. \"You know the data. Radiation outside is still very high. Our instruments only measure levels up to 700 millisieverts. Whatever is out there now is higher than that.\"\n\nZinovy had read about the effects of radiation on workers at all three of the world's great nuclear plant accidents—at Chernobyl in 1986, Japan in 2011, and Tehran in 2015. Radiation levels at those places, even in the beginning, were measurable by the instruments. He had no illusions about what this second option would mean.\n\nBerry went on. \"We do have EMU's—enough for everyone. If you decide to go out, you might want to consider that extra amount of protection. It won't help a lot, but it could give you an edge—maybe a little more time.\"\n\nAt that, Commander Berry stopped talking. He looked around. \"Let's take a break,\" he said. \"We have more to discuss—one more option I want to give you—but we need some time to think. We'll reconvene at 15:00.\"\n\nGlaston moved to the galley and began making coffee. Rudzinski escaped to her bunk. Berry went to use the facilities. The others settled back into their seats, each wrapped in the privacy of their own thoughts.\n\nZinovy considered. One way or another, life must end soon. The choice would simply determine how quickly, or how painfully, they would go. He could deal with physical pain. He'd endured plenty during his years with the FSB.\n\nMental pain was another thing, however, and he'd experienced enough of that during the last three days to last a lifetime. Trapped inside this prison of a spaceship, unhappy memories of Nadya and her child flooding in and out of his heart, and his opportunity for revenge snatched from him with Anton's death—Zinovy had no reason to hang onto life. By the time Berry reconvened the meeting, even without hearing the third option, Zinovy had made his choice.\n\nThey gathered again. Rudzinski returned from her quarters looking haggard. Glaston brought a cup of coffee to the seat by his console, instinctively setting it down away from the instruments.\n\nBerry began the discussion where he'd left off. He turned to Rudzinski. \"What's your take on the radiation? Just what might we expect if we were to risk survival outside the ship?\"\n\n\"I don't know. We've never studied the effects of this large a dose. I could only guess what might happen.\" She paused.\n\n\"Give us your best guess then.\"\n\nTaking a deep breath, Rudzinski continued: \"At radiation levels this high, death would probably be instantaneous. The skin would blister immediately and the burns would quickly go to third degree. The eyes and lining of the lungs would sear within minutes.\"\n\nBerry interrupted. \"You say 'probably'.\"\n\nRudzinski nodded. \"The lungs might continue to function for several hours, but by that time both the circulatory and the digestive systems would be affected. Capillaries would begin to disintegrate, causing stinging in the extremities and a burning sensation in the veins and arteries. In the digestive system, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea . . . \" She broke off. \"The pain would be excruciating.\"\n\nZinovy noted reactions around the room. Rudzinski was the expert and the facts had shaken her. The fear was contagious.\n\nBerry persisted: \"What is the best case scenario?\"\n\n\"Best case doesn't apply to this situation. The radiation levels are just too high.\" She stopped, thought a minute, then looked up at Berry. \"In classic cases of severe exposure, death occurs within two to four weeks. Survival after six weeks could mean a possible recovery, but that's with exposure to a much smaller dose, not the heavy levels we'd be subjected to. As I said, we have no statistics on this kind of event.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Ellen,\" Berry said. He scrutinized the listeners. \"I'm sorry to put you through this, but we need the information so we can make informed decisions.\"\n\nHe went on. \"The third option is reserved for the most extreme situations. This, I feel, is one of those situations.\"\n\nZinovy knew what was coming. \"We need to end this,\" he said.\n\nBerry glanced at him and went on: \"We have on this ship a well-stocked medicine cabinet.\" He looked around. \"You all know where it is.\" He held up a small silver key. \"It's unlocked now.\" He hesitated one last time. \"If any of you feel the need for medication during the next few days, you may help yourself.\"\n\nNo one spoke. Zinovy watched. What was going on behind the masks his crewmates wore? Carter, as always, was scowling. Glaston sat nursing his coffee cup, looking at the floor, blinking now and then. Redmond leaned back in his chair, arms folded, and studied Berry's face. Rudzinski's expression was bleaker than ever. Chang leaned forward on the edge of her seat, cupping her chin in one hand, resting her elbow on the clipboard in her lap.\n\nZinovy shifted in his seat and started to rise, but Berry stopped him with a raised hand. \"I want to say one more thing before the meeting adjourns. I want you to know that though I am in command of this ship, I recognize, under the circumstances, the need to release each of you from my authority in terms of what decisions you make regarding your future. I will continue to lead, and I will expect all of you to follow my directions in matters that relate to the well being of the crew as a whole, but as long as your actions do not adversely affect anyone else, I will not interfere.\" His voice softened as he concluded. \"I have enjoyed working with all of you, and I wish you all the best.\"\n\nHe turned and walked away, his words echoing in the hollow recesses of Zinovy's heart.\n\nZinovy knew what his best was. He strode down the corridor and caught Berry by the arm. \"I want to leave the ship.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Yes. And I want to leave soon.\"\n\nBerry studied the cosmonaut's face for a moment. \"All right. I'll speak to the others.\"\n\nThe revelation initiated another round of talks. \"We can only have one exit event,\" Berry said, \"because of the contamination problem. We can't clear out the escape hatch after it's been opened to the outside air. Anyone choosing to leave will have to go when Zinovy does.\"\n\n\"What's your choice, Captain?\" Glaston asked.\n\nBerry smiled. \"You just said it, Glaston. I'm the captain. The captain always stays with the ship.\" So two of the seven choices were made.\n\nZinovy would have left immediately, but Berry shook his head. \"The others will need time. We'll give them until tomorrow afternoon.\" Berry announced a deadline of 15:00 the following day, and Zinovy resigned himself to the wait.\n\nHe needed something to do. Out the window, iridescent light flickered across an expanse of green that stretched to the horizon. Deadly light. Deadly green. Yet Zinovy wanted badly to be out there.\n\nThis was madness. He was a rational man. He should be observing and analyzing the situation. He crossed the room and pulled a pair of binoculars from the cupboard at Glaston's elbow.\n\nThe engineer arched his eyebrows. \"Going exploring are we?\"\n\nZinovy glared at him. Then he went to the window and raised the glass, twirling the focus mechanism until the image sharpened.\n\nThe bizarre mix of movement and stillness outside puzzled him. The green landscape appeared solid and unmoving—no waving of the tall green fronds on the tree-like objects in the distance, though the air seemed in constant motion around them. The radiation had to be creating the luminescent waves of color and light pulsing through the atmosphere. The display reminded him of the aurora borealis, though the waves of shimmering light he had observed on those cold Siberian nights were shadows compared to the brilliant, undulating images that now filled his vision.\n\nEllen Rudzinski walked into the room. \"Eric, Zinovy,\" she said. \"Mind if I join you?\" It was a rhetorical question.\n\nZinovy glanced at her and frowned. Rudzinski was a talker. She'd already made the rounds of the crew, wearing out her welcome with each of them. Apparently it was his turn. He sighed, pulled a chair to the window and sat down. She sat down beside him and began her prattle.\n\nHe realized, to his relief, it would be a monologue. Not an interesting one—autobiographical—one he could easily tune out. She began with reminiscences of her childhood. He had no idea how long he'd been ignoring her before she broke into his thoughts.\n\n\"Zinovy, are you listening?\"\n\nHe grunted and she went on. \"You know, I never wanted to be here. I would have been perfectly happy to settle down behind a white picket fence and raise a family like everybody else. But my father—he was a doctor, like my grandfather. He was determined that I continue the tradition. You know how fathers are.\"\n\n\"No, I don't,\" Zinovy said.\n\nThe woman was immune to conversation stoppers. \"If I'd had my own money I could have resisted, but he was paying the bills, so I headed off to medical school. I remember him so well, standing there with a big smile as I left.\" She gulped and was silent.\n\nZinovy's thoughts turned to his own father. Efim Aronovich Kozlov had been a determined man, deeply spiritual, and equally as foolish. The State had charged him with religious treason for his Christian faith, sentenced him to twenty years hard labor, and hauled him off to prison three months before Zinovy was born. Years later, going through the few personal effects that had been left to him, Zinovy found letters his father had written to his mother. They were long diatribes full of maudlin emotion. Zinovy felt no connection with the man who had written them.\n\nRudzinski was talking again. \" . . . and then when I finally graduated he worked it so I could get into the space program. Pulled a few strings for me. 'It's my legacy to you, honey,' he said.\"\n\nLegacy. The word lodged in the restless brain of Rudzinski's captive audience. His father had left him a legacy of disloyalty and distrust. The State considered Zinovy a 'son of the enemy.' He frowned as he remembered some of the things he'd done to convince them of his love for the Motherland.\n\nBut Rudzinski was on to her mother by now. \"My mother could do nothing but support him. I know she was afraid for me to go into space. All she knew about space travel was that people died doing it.\"\n\nShe stopped for a moment. Then she went on. \"It's funny. She was right, as it turns out. Mothers have an instinct.\"\n\n\"But she wasn't right.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You're alive because you were in space, and your mother's . . . \"\n\nHe didn't finish the cruel remark, but at least it slowed her down. Tears welled in her eyes. Then she gazed at him, as if seeing him for the first time. \"What was your mother like, Zinovy?\"\n\nZinovy lifted the binoculars to his face and pretended he hadn't heard. His mother . . . how long had it been since he'd thought of her? She'd been religious too, steeped in the Christian Orthodox faith that had somehow survived all the purges of the socialist ideologues. She'd taught him the fairy tales, but she was out of the picture by the time he was old enough to think seriously about such things, and all shadows of her superstitious belief had dissipated.\n\nZinovy yawned, covering his mouth roughly with the back of his hand, then he put the binoculars to his eyes and refocused. As Rudzinski's voice trailed on in the background, he studied the scene before him, dissecting the panorama, picking out details—shades of glimmering light, shapes and sizes of distinct elements in the endless wavering sea of color. The background could not be vegetation, yet the resemblance was hard to deny.\n\nTall filigreed forms circled the edge of the shimmering, green-mantled clearing in which the ship rested. The shape of the clearing resembled that of the original landing pad, and the surrounding topography was vaguely reminiscent of the layout of the whole complex. Zinovy ran the glasses around the perimeter, looking closely for evidence of the buildings that should have been there.\n\nSuddenly he sat up, his body tensing. He could swear . . . No, it couldn't be. The light was playing tricks on his sleep-deprived senses.\n\n\"Did you see that?\" he said, snatching the woman by his side from her verbal reverie.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nHe dropped the binoculars, rubbed his eyes hard, waited for them to clear, then looked again. Nothing.\n\nHe was losing it. He got up, walked over to the console, and sat down by Glaston.\n\n\"What's up, mate?\" Glaston asked.\n\nZinovy shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to deny what he'd just seen. He got up once more, went back to the window and leaned over the sill, fastening his vision on the distant spot. But there was no sign of the young boy who had bolted into the open, whirled around, then disappeared again into the greenery.\n\nBerry came into the cabin and glanced across the room. Zinovy sat down and resumed his sentry duties, but an unpleasant sensation had formed deep in his gut—an uncomfortable wave that moved up through his torso, gaining momentum as it came. Gathering the last remnants of his self-control, he managed to catch the flood in his throat, holding it there, willing it to subside, until it became small enough to swallow. He brushed his hair back from his forehead. He needed to get out of this place.\n\nThe rest of the day passed routinely. The crew gathered for supper, then drifted away for an early night. Zinovy went to bed, eager for the seclusion of his berth and the temporary forgetfulness of sleep. But sleep would not come.\n\nThe light kept him awake. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling where shards of muted color filtered through the curtains, touching the seams and rivets that held the ship together around him. But light and sleeplessness were both temporary problems. He would not be bothered by either for long. With that thought Zinovy drifted off into an unsettled sleep.\n\n* * *\n\nEarly next morning things began to happen. Zinovy woke to Glaston's voice, bellowing into Berry's cubicle across from him. Zinovy sat up, pushed the curtains aside, and squinted at the boy.\n\n\"He's dead, Commander. I tried to wake him but he's . . . he's not breathing.\" Berry slid out of his bunk, pulling his pants on. Zinovy hit the floor behind him. They found Redmond's body, fully dressed, lying in his bunk with a note pinned to his shirt. \"This is my option,\" it read. \"I bequeath to all of you my share of the oxygen.\"\n\nIt was a grim day. They wrapped the body in a plastic sheet and put it in the port module—the boot room through which they entered and exited the ship. Ellen Rudzinski, visibly shaken by the discovery, retired to her berth. Chang went to rouse her for lunch and found her sleeping deeply, her breathing slow and irregular. She had left no note—just an empty pill bottle with a smattering of small white tablets beside it. Chang quietly gathered up the pills and put them back in the medicine kit. In half an hour they had another body.\n\nThrough it all, Zinovy went about his business, packing his possessions into his kit box, stashing notes and documents in a file. He interrupted his preparations only twice, to help them transport the bodies, and by early afternoon he was ready to go.\n\nGlaston and Chang joined the commander by the exit hatch to say good-bye and wish him well. \"I'm tempted to go with you,\" Glaston said. \"But I think I'd better stay with the others.\" He crooked his thumb toward the module. \"I serviced an EMU for you if you want it. The radio set up works fine.\"\n\n\"Thanks, but I won't use it.\" The suit was heavy and confining, and Zinovy didn't want to go with a helmet over his head, though he couldn't, for the life of him, explain why it mattered at this point.\n\nFinally the moment arrived. Zinovy put on his jacket and picked up the canteen Berry had pressed upon him, \"just in case.\" The men each shook his hand.\n\nChang surprised him with a brief hug, then she looked down, obviously embarassed. \"Uh, I know you probably won't . . . \" She paused, then she looked up, shrugged, and handed him a granola bar and a packet of fruit leather. \"You might get hungry before . . .\"\n\nZinovy accepted them without comment.\n\nGlaston opened the door to the module and Zinovy stepped through. The door closed behind him and he was free—almost. He had no wish to linger long in the makeshift morgue. The air already smelled fetid. He strode across the floor, turned the hatch release handle, and pushed the door aside. Then he climbed down the escape ladder to the green, shimmering ground below.\n\nZinovy was glad he'd left the suit behind. He reveled in the freedom—one last moment of freedom . . . He closed his eyes and waited for the pain. At first nothing happened. A slight breeze rippled across his face. Probably the wild movement of the highly charged molecules in the radiation around him, but it was not unpleasant. The air, warm and soft, curled around his body, lifting the hair on his wrists, caressing his skin. Then Zinovy opened his eyes to the glittering rainbow of color, exhaled the last of the cabin air, and slowly, deliberately drew a deep breath of the bright death into his lungs.\n\n* * *\n\nThe four standing at the window of the spacecraft watched as Zinovy's body slumped to the ground. They stayed there a while. Grace was the last to turn away. She stood with her hand on the sill, watching the play of lights on Zinovy's crumpled body. Finally she reached up and pulled down the shade, saying a final good-bye and shrouding the corpse.\n\n* * *\n\nThe next morning Grace woke to the smell of coffee. She washed and dressed and joined Eric in the galley. He handed her a plate of reconstituted scrambled eggs. She looked at it without enthusiasm and sat down at the table. \"When did you get up?\"\n\n\"An hour ago.\" Eric gave her a wry look. \"I figured with so much to do I'd better get an early start on the day.\" He gestured to the bread machine. \"Fresh loaf in ten minutes.\"\n\nArchie was up as well, settled at his console, talking to Bob Anderson. He declined the breakfast Eric offered, taking a cup of strong coffee to his workstation instead. Charles wasn't there. Grace tensed. \"Where's Charles?\"\n\n\"He's okay. I saw him head toward the dunny earlier.\"\n\nGrace picked up a fork and rearranged the eggs on her plate. \"I miss the kind of eggs you break into a skillet.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Me too. With bacon on the side.\"\n\nCharles came shuffling out, sat down and attacked the plate Eric put in front of him. Grace watched him eat, wondering at his appetite. Nothing seemed to diminish his interest in food.\n\nCharles's presence silenced the rest for a while, but eventually they began to talk. Light conversation. No one mentioned the events of the last few days. No one talked of the future. They spoke only in the present tense and said nothing that mattered.\n\nThe emotional atmosphere, on the other hand, hung heavy around them. Certainly reason enough for that, Grace thought. But why couldn't they connect with each other? She hardly knew these men. They'd been civil over the past four months on the station, but they hadn't developed relationships. They'd had no reason to believe they'd even see each other after the assignment was over.\n\nAnd now they were dying together. Grace quivered at the strangeness of that fact, then quivered more violently as she thought of her husband and her boys. If only she could have been there—could have died with them.\n\nBut she was here now, and being closer to her colleagues might help the loneliness as they waited for the end. They needed an ice breaker.\n\nIt was Eric who finally gave them one. He disappeared into the sleeping quarters and came back with a deck of cards. \"Anybody for a game of Rummy?\"\n\nArchie looked up from his work. Grace waited for him to say, \"No time, Eric. I've got work to do.\"\n\nBut he didn't have work to do. None of them did. Not any more. They needed an activity, and Eric was offering them one. Archie hesitated.\n\n\"Come on Captain,\" Eric said, shuffling through the cards. \"It'll be good for morale.\"\n\nArchie smiled. \"You're right, Eric. It's a good idea.\" He got up, stretched, and came across the room. Even Charles, abandoning his research notes, ambled over and settled down with the others at the galley table.\n\n\"Go over the rules again.\" Archie said. \"It's been a long time since I've played.\" So Eric explained. Then he shuffled, dealt seven cards to each hand, placed the deck in the middle of the table and turned over the top card.\n\nSomething else turned over with it. Little by little they began interacting. At first they talked only about the game, reviewing the rules, clarifying the scoring, arguing occasionally about whose turn it was. But when the play became more routine they began talking about other things.\n\nOne by one they turned over the cards of their lives, learning a little here, sharing a little there. By the end of the day, after twenty or thirty games and one more to break a winning tie between Charles and Archie, they were almost friends.\n\nThey'd stopped for lunch and again for dinner, but they hadn't even bothered to raise the blinds. Later in the evening, long past their bedtime, Grace moved to the lee window and pushed up the blind. The others wandered over to look out. The luminous outline of the green material gleamed dimly below. Nighttime had drawn its own shade over the clearing. The body was invisible, shrouded with the eerie, iridescent glow of the evening.\n\nThey stood together silently. Then Grace said, \"I'd almost forgotten. We've just lost one more day of our lives and I forgot for a while.\" She smiled up at Eric. \"Thanks. It was a breath of fresh air.\" She pulled the shade back down and they went to bed.\n\n* * *\n\nLunch was over. Charles was puttering in the galley. Grace had gone to the bathroom. Archie had just signed off on the radio and was sitting down for a cup of coffee with Eric when the knock came. It was a determined, forceful rap, repeated seven times, and it came from outside the boot room.\n\nCharles yelped and dropped a mixing bowl on the floor. Archie spilled his coffee in his lap. Eric spit his first mouthful across the room. Grace wandered in from the passageway. \"What was that noise?\" she asked.\n\nNo one answered. No one breathed. The knock came again, not a rap this time, but a persistent, rapid banging, carrying more than a hint of determined exasperation.\nCHAPTER FIVE\n\nZinovy opened his eyes, gradually absorbing an atmosphere that moved around his mind and seeped gently into a deeper part of him. He became aware, again, of the smell—so potent it had weakened his knees and dropped him to the ground. Something about the scent carried him back to his past. What was it?\n\nThe memory, when it came, presented itself complete in every detail. He was six years old and he stood in a field. A golden sliver of light shimmered along the horizon. He'd left his bed, awakened by the gentle twittering of the morning birds, and tiptoed barefoot out of the house to watch the earth come into focus with the dawn. The smell of ripe wheat, wet with dew, filled his nostrils, heightening his senses and forcing him to exist, for the moment, totally in the present.\n\nPerhaps because he was alone, he felt a kinship with the earth and its living, growing things. A yearning awakened in him. The yearning was all the more poignant because he didn't understand it. He stood motionless for a long time, not wanting to break the spell.\n\nHe was on his way to a new home. He'd stopped at the collective the night before with his uncle, an inspection official who was gathering information to be used in setting quotas for next year's production. Because he was leaving loneliness behind and had not yet discovered there were worse things ahead, he'd been almost happy. He remembered drawing his first breath of relief from the constant, aching grief that had throbbed in his heart since his mother's murder the year before.\n\nThis moment was to become his only pleasant childhood memory.\n\nNow, lying on a verdant bed that smelled like ripe wheat at dawn, Zinovy was once more alone, and longing, again, for something he couldn't identify.\n\nThe memory of the wheat field was a catalyst, generating more recollections, one after another. He'd heard this happened to people when they were dying, and he gave himself over to the experience. The oldest memory, wrenched from his early childhood, was dark and bloody. He'd been grief stricken, dragged by two neighbor women from the scene of his mother's death, straining against their insistent pull, longing to rush back to her battered body. The women talked but their words washed over him, beyond his comprehension at the time. His mind was full of the blood, bright and red, spurting from his mother's head, spilling into great puddles on the ground.\n\n\"She was mad, gone totally insane,\" the one said. \"It was the religion that did it.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but maybe not. Wouldn't you go mad if . . . \"\n\nThe sentence trailed off. Zinovy, sobbing uncontrollably, looked up through tear-filled eyes and saw fear flicker over the other's face as she looked over her shoulder. Then she pursed her lips and turned around. \"Come on Zinovy. You're coming to live with us.\" They'd carried him away, struggling, but powerless in the grip of their large, farm-hardened hands.\n\nZinovy came back to the present, remembered where he was, and groaned. His limbs lay heavy, pinned against the ground by the backwash of emotions from his encounter with his past—by the memory of the helplessness he'd felt in the grip of his grief and the rough hands of the women. Now, after all these years, when he should have been in control, that old feeling of powerlessness engulfed him. He lay constrained, bound by the last inevitable imprisonment—the ultimate bondage.\n\nIt occurred to him that he might already be dead. With difficulty, he moved his right shoulder and winced. No, not yet. He could feel his bruises against the solid earth, and there was definitely no darkness, no oblivion.\n\nHis body began to tingle. The radiation was starting its grim work. Willing himself into action, he sat up and looked around.\n\nThe glimmering green world he'd seen from the window of the spacecraft was clearer down here. The haze above him still shimmered, but on the ground it diffused, casting a subtle hue of a color he couldn't name over the landscape. He shook his head. His eyes must have been affected by the radiation. It wouldn't be long before other symptoms would develop.\n\nHe pulled himself to a standing position and took a cautious step or two. The ground gave softly under his feet. He took a few more steps, moving toward the edge of the clearing where the mirage of the boy had appeared for that brief, delusory moment, and the explorer in him began to awaken. Those filigreed fronds he'd noticed from the ship—what did they look like up close? What lay beyond them in the dark green thickness?\n\nA euphonic murmur grew more urgent in his ears as he approached the mysterious growth. It sounded like bird song, but that was impossible. The noise must be produced by the wavering light waves, like the crackle of the aurora. He hesitated. Was it wise to move closer? Then he remembered, with some astonishment, that it didn't really matter anymore what he did. He moved to a section of dense greenery, parted it with his hands, and stepped into an incredible world.\n\nEverything he saw challenged the shape of the analytical box he'd drawn around reality. None of it should have been there. Birds flitted through the branches of giant trees on glittering wings, filling the air with their melodies. Robins and swallows and several species of sparrows hopped from branch to branch, moving in and out among the leaves as if they felt at home in this great, green bower and had been there forever. Large, graceful cranes and majestic egrets rode on invisible air currents from one treetop to another.\n\nZinovy stood and watched them, forgetting he was dying—forgetting everything, lost in the wonder of the green world around him.\n\nYes, it was vegetation. Such a variety of plants he couldn't begin to name them. He moved forward, tentatively at first, then more deliberately. Finally, giving in to the lure of the mystery, he began walking.\n\nHe walked through groves of lush, graceful trees with flat leaves the size of his chest, and on through pale green shrubbery crowned with darker fronds that spilled over their tops, almost touching the ground in places. He pushed aside long, thin tendrils draped across his path, hanging from trees so tall he couldn't see their tops. He pulled down a low-hanging branch to inspect leaves that resembled large cups, thick at their base, thinning through their middles to delicately fluted rims. No science books had ever described wonders such as these.\n\nAnd the smell—the scent was everywhere. The crisp, dewy aroma he'd first noticed gave way to others—sweet, tangy, sharp—as varied as the sights around him. He breathed deeply, captivated by the sensations, forgetting the danger of the radiation in the lustrous sheen of the air around him.\n\nHe pushed on past the nearer vegetation into more open areas. Here, the topography varied as well, though without clearly defined contrasts. The ground undulated gently, rising to rounded crests in some places, dipping into shallow valleys in others, blanketed with patches of vegetation, all shapes and sizes. Yellow-green thickets sheltered by overhanging branches, led into denser, lime-colored clumps of close-grown shrubs, or opened out into broad verdant meadows, or gave way to tall, emerald forests of more trees he did not recognize.\n\nZinovy walked for hours, losing track of time, stopping often to drink from his canteen, until he finally realized he was hungry. He sat down under a palm tree and took out the granola bar Chang had tucked into his pocket. At the time it had seemed a ridiculous gesture, but now he was glad she'd done it.\n\nAfter he'd eaten, he unleashed the canteen and took another long drink, noticing that his water was nearly gone. Then he slept, stretched out flat on his back under the palm, the exhilaration of his expedition giving way to the tiredness in his limbs.\n\nHe woke in minutes, it seemed, alert and clear-headed. He glanced at his watch and frowned. Something was wrong. He shook the watch, then shook it again, but the second hand continued to move steadily around the face of the clock, counting off the minutes as it must have done during the eighteen hours he slept. Eighteen hours. It seemed like only minutes had passed, and yet it seemed like years. \"Time is turned upside down,\" he muttered to himself. \"Everything is upside down.\" He put his hands to his temples and tried to remember what the world had been like before, but the memory of the old reality was impossible to hold onto while this new reality swelled around him, filling his senses with glorious sights and sounds and smells.\n\nSuddenly he wanted to share the discovery of this bright, new world with his colleagues. He would go back to the ship and get them, tell them to come out. He would tell them that this atmosphere, deadly though it might be in the end, was a much better place to die.\n\nThen he realized he didn't know where they were.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy spent the next half-hour striding back and forth through the iridescent haze, lashing himself for the fool he'd been. How could he have allowed the discipline that regulated his life to relax into the mindless stupor that had overcome him since he left the ship?\n\nHe saw himself again as he lay helpless in the mossy clearing; as he wandered aimlessly through the green landscape; as he slept under the palm tree. He'd been bewitched, and now he was lost in a foreign world. He needed to find the crew, but he had no idea where to begin looking for them.\n\nFinally he stopped pacing and looked around. A small hill rose steeply to his right. He climbed it and peered into the distance, trying to picture the way he'd come. The view stretched for miles with no evidence of a trail, no sign of a landmark, no glint of sun on shiny surface that might indicate the ship's location.\n\nThere was, in fact, no sun. He squinted at the sky, shading his eyes out of habit, but it wasn't necessary. The atmosphere around him shone as bright as noon on the clearest day, but there was no glare. \"And no visible light source,\" he added aloud. How could a person find direction without the sun?\n\nHe decided to follow his instincts, since his intellect, it seemed, had deserted him. He set out determinedly from behind the tree he'd slept under. Thirst added to his frustration. He uncapped the canteen and swallowed the last of the water. It was then he realized the hopelessness of his situation. It might take days to find the ship. He stopped still at the thought. \"What is the use?\" he asked, talking to the glittering air. There was no answer. He began to move forward again. \"I have no choice,\" he reasoned. \"I might as well die trying.\"\n\nThe sound of his own voice worried him. He swore. \"I'm talking to myself now.\" He picked up his pace, hurrying in what might well have been the wrong direction, trying to outdistance his growing panic.\n\nTwo hours later he pushed his way through another clump of dense shrubbery and found himself in the space shuttle clearing. Amazement, then relief flooded over him. The ship stood, as he'd left it, in the center of the landing area. He must have walked in a great circle.\n\nHe broke into a run, covering the space between the edge of the clearing and the ship in seconds. Then he stopped.\n\nSomething wasn't right. The blinds were drawn. He looked at his watch. It was nearly 15:00 hours. They should be up and active.\n\nThe thought came that they might have decided to end it all early. Shock overcame him. If they were no longer there then he was alone. He'd never minded being alone before, but now . . . .\n\nHe rallied himself. He was acting the fool again. He needed to take control and function as a rational human being. The crew had to be in there, perhaps sleeping, or back in the lab. He pondered about how best to rouse them. The ship was soundproof, so yelling wouldn't work, and with the shade down they couldn't see him.\n\nIt occurred to him he could simply go up and knock on the door. He hitched his empty canteen closer to his waist, climbed the ladder to the module, and crawled inside, bracing himself for the smell. The bodies of Redmond and Rudzinski would be badly decomposed by now. He took one shallow breath before he went on. The air was sweet. He glanced at the corpses. The shadowy forms still rested there, though the plastic coverings had wilted somewhat, as if their contents had shrunk.\n\nHe crossed to the inner door and stopped, considering. He needed a hard object. He detached a titanium rod from the wall next to the fire extinguisher, banged on the door, and waited. No response. He pounded more forcefully and waited. Still no response. How could he get through to them?\n\nHis eyes rested on the row of EMU's hanging on the wall beside him. Glaston had serviced one for his use. Which one? He lifted the suit nearest the door and attached the helmet containing the communications assembly to the upper torso, swearing at the awkwardness of the procedure. Finally, cradling the whole thing in his arms, he pushed the button on the chest control unit and the radio activation light went on. Leaning close to the mouthpiece inside the helmet, he spoke: \"Berry, this is Kozlov. Do you read me?\"\n\nSilence reigned for an excruciatingly long time. Finally, Berry's shaken voice came through the micro-speaker. \"Zinovy, is that you?\" Then, more steadily, \"Where on earth are you?\"\n\n* * *\n\nThe crew hadn't opened the door immediately. They'd prepared themselves to face one kind of death and were resolutely moving toward it. To choose another required some mental readjusting.\n\nArchie frowned. Another impossible decision. \"What do you think?\" he asked.\n\n\"This is interesting, amazing in fact,\" Eric said. \"Why isn't he dead? It doesn't make sense.\"\n\n\"Ellen's best case scenario included the possibility of short term survival,\" Archie said. \"It looks like that's what we've got.\" He shuffled through some papers on his desk. \"Eric, what were the latest readings on external radiation levels?\"\n\n\"I gave the data to Grace.\"\n\n\"It's still high,\" Grace said. \"No change since we got here.\" She thought a moment. \"If there's been no change at all, maybe there's a problem with the instruments. I don't know why we didn't think of that before. Maybe the initial dose when we landed registered so high the gauges were damaged, frozen in that extreme position.\"\n\n\"But, even if the readings are useless, the levels still have to be high. How long since the event? A week? There's still enough junk out there to kill us. I mean, you can see it in the air, for God's sake.\"\n\nThis comment came from Charles. Archie flashed him a look. He met Archie's gaze and continued, \"I don't want to open the door. We'd lose oxygen in the process, and the radiation would come in with him. We'd all be exposed and there'd be no going back.\"\n\nCharles's diatribe silenced them all. Archie wasn't sure how to respond. Grace rescued him. \"You have a point, Charles,\" she said. \"But it's not like it'll make a great difference to us. We'll have to leave eventually anyway.\"\n\n\"It's not just when we leave. It's how. Why should I be forced into radiation sickness because he wants back in?\"\n\nAnother long silence filled the room. Archie was thinking of the third option Charles seemed to have forgotten. No one else seemed prepared to remind him.\n\nGrace finally spoke up again. \"I don't like to think of the radiation either, Charles, but we can't be so selfish. We're safe in here, at least for now, but he's not. He's out of water.\"\n\nShe folded her arms and frowned at Charles. \"We watched him die once, or thought we did. I don't want to watch it happen again. I vote we let him in.\"\n\nArchie turned to Eric. \"What about you?\"\n\n\"I'm curious,\" Eric said. \"And I'm surprised you aren't too, Charles. Zinovy said he found plants. You should be chomping at the bit.\"\n\n\"It's not worth it. I'm not keen on plants that reek of radiation.\"\n\nArchie stood, walked to the window, and looked out. Zinovy had obviously given up on an immediate response from the crew. He sat in the clearing below, the EMU beside him, eating his fruit leather. He appeared no different than when he'd left—no sign of weakness or deterioration. He removed the cap from his canteen and turned it upside down. The empty canteen was the deciding factor. Archie turned to the group. \"Grace is right. We can't leave him out there.\" He went to the comm unit and pressed a button. \"All right, Zinovy,\" he said. \"Come on up.\"\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy squeezed through the half-opened door into the command center and Glaston slammed it shut. They watched the luminous evil creep in behind him. It curled its tentacles around the edges of the room and moved inward, approaching each of the occupants stealthily, wrapping them in its arms, beginning its slow, vicious stranglehold on their limbs and their organs.\n\nZinovy stood, just inside the door, and saw the worry behind the welcome in their eyes. He wasn't much into expressions of gratitude, but this seemed an appropriate moment. \"Thank you,\" he said.\n\nBerry broke the silence that followed. \"Charles, I think Zinovy could do with a glass of water. Would you get it for him?\"\n\nCarter hesitated. Then he headed to the galley, filled half a glass, and brought it to Zinovy. Zinovy downed it in one gulp and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Glaston brought him a piece of toast leftover from breakfast and a bottle of orange juice, glaring at Carter as he passed.\n\n\"All right, Zinovy. What happened to you out there?\" Berry leaned back and put his hands in his pockets. The others leaned forward in their seats.\n\nZinovy brushed crumbs from his mouth as he searched for words to describe his experience. \"It was strange, for sure.\" Then he told them the story, leaving out nothing but his fanciful memory surge at the beginning and the anxiety about being lost at the end.\n\n\"Amazing,\" Berry said when he was through. \"And the strangest thing is the radiation. You've felt no effects at all?\"\n\n\"None. I was really thirsty. That might be a symptom. And I felt a tingling at the beginning, but it didn't last. Maybe I adjusted to it.\"\n\nThey studied him closely, wondering, he was sure, when the effect of the radiation would show up and what it would look like. They all knew it was just a matter of time.\n\nBrainstorming about more positive possibilities was irresistible, however. \"Is it possible that the radiation has dispersed?\" Chang said. \"Remember that heavy layer of condensation we ran into when we passed through the electrical storm? Maybe the radiation has risen up above the lower atmospheric layers, leaving a relatively clean stratum here at ground level.\"\n\n\"That might be,\" Zinovy said. \"When I looked up I could see a long way into the atmosphere. I would say visibility was clear up to . . . well, I don't know how far, actually. I couldn't see the sun. That was another strange thing. The air was bright enough to be direct sunlight, but I couldn't find a light source.\"\n\nBerry ended their speculation. \"Much as we'd all like to believe the danger has passed, we can't. The radiation is there. We'll just have to wait for developments and do what we can about them when they come.\"\n\nBut there was nothing they could do. Zinovy's rational mind brought him abruptly up against the brick wall of reality. The situation galled him. He was used to solving problems, by force if necessary.\n\n\"So,\" Berry went on, \"What's our next move?\" He waited for a suggestion. None came. \"We'll have to leave the ship eventually,\" he prompted. Still no comment from the crew. \"Do we stay here until the oxygen is gone?\"\n\nZinovy hadn't stopped to think that the rest of the crew might decide to stay in the shuttle. He winced. The radiation outside was an invisible coffin, but he'd come to prefer it strongly over this visible one. He cast around in his mind for a good reason they should leave immediately, but found none. He was pretty sure the fact that he was strangling in the closeness of the cabin wouldn't qualify. So he waited and sweated quietly as they discussed their options once again.\n\nIn the end it was a small thing—the gauge on the oxygen tanks—that came to his rescue. Berry sent Glaston to check the supply and he came back with the news that they were already well into the red alert range on the last canister. Berry swore. \"We should have more than that.\"\n\n\"I told you,\" Carter said. \"We lost it when we opened the door for Zinovy.\"\n\nBerry frowned and turned to Zinovy. \"If it's in the red, how much time do we have?\"\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"Twelve hours, give or take.\"\n\n\"Then if we stay in here tonight, it could run out when we're asleep,\" Chang said.\n\nThey thought for a moment.\n\n\"Well,\" Glaston finally said. \"That would be one way to go.\"\n\nBerry walked to the communication console. \"I'm going to call Anderson. See if they have any more information.\"\n\nZinovy paced while Berry made his call. He'd appreciated the drink of water, but now the walls were closing in on him. He listened to the conversation between the two commanders, impatient with the back and forth of their discussion. Anderson had not learned any more about conditions outside. Finally, Berry signed off, turned around to the crew, and announced his decision.\n\n\"There's no sense in our staying in any longer,\" he said. \"If Zinovy survived outside for twenty-four hours, we might as well go out too. We'll leave as soon as we can make the necessary preparations.\"\n\nZinovy breathed a sigh of relief.\n\nAs it turned out, there weren't many preparations to make. They would turn off the oxygen, saving what little was left in case they had to move back into the artificial environment for some reason.\n\n\"We don't need to take anything with us,\" Berry said. \"We can come back for supplies if we need them.\" Zinovy took note of the word, 'if'.\n\nSoon there was nothing left to do but open the door and climb out. Berry glanced around the cabin one more time. Then he moved to the door, opened it, crossed through to the outside hatch, and looked out into the brightness. Zinovy, last in line, gritted his teeth and groaned. Berry looked back and frowned. Then he descended the ladder to the ground below and the crew followed.\n\nMinutes later they were standing in the middle of the clearing, on their feet, but overcome, as Zinovy had been, by the onslaught of wild sensations. For some time they stood, seeing, feeling, smelling, listening. At last Glaston spoke. \"Holy dooley. This is something else!\"\n\nHis simple exclamation seemed to express everyone's feelings. They walked around, testing the sponginess under their feet, and Zinovy once again savored the strange, invigorating intensity of the air as the light breeze brushed his skin. Once more the smells accosted him, exhilarating, slightly familiar yet different, harmonizing with the subdued but happy chatter coming from beyond the fringe of trees at the edge of the clearing.\n\n\"You say that's birdsong?\" Berry asked.\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\nBut the overwhelming impression—even for Zinovy, who'd lived in it already—was the color. All the usual hues surrounded them, but others as well, ones that didn't fit on the spectrum. The air was full of rainbow.\n\n\"So this is what it's like to look at the world through rose-colored glasses,\" Chang said. \"But it's not rose. What is it? I can't quite identify that color, or colors I guess. It's more than one.\"\n\nNo one answered. Thought was difficult. Sensations overwhelmed the brain, so they marveled wordlessly. They wandered around, staying in sight of the shuttle, checking for landmarks, finding none, other than the vague outline of the landing pad.\n\nAn hour later, Berry stood with Zinovy looking toward the horizon. He shook his head. \"Unbelievable that none of the buildings are left. This grass looks healthy. No sign of radioactive damage. Where did it come from?\"\n\nZinovy had no answer.\n\nBerry glanced at the sky. The light was softening. \"It's 18:00, people. We need to head back to the ship for the night.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't the only one who dragged his feet on the return. Glaston dawdled, kicking at the tufts of mossy carpet under his feet. Carter had ventured as far as the edge of the clearing to confirm Zinovy's report about the vegetation there, and even he was beginning to show signs of interest. The spell of the place had fallen on all of them. But hunger pangs began to gnaw, so they turned and headed back to the shuttle as the muted light of nightfall stole across the clearing.\n\n\"We've got things to do,\" Berry said as they ate. \"I need to report to Anderson. Then we'll discuss further plans in the morning.\"\n\nThey'd all studiously ignored the two bodies in the boot room, but Zinovy suspected taking care of them would be the first thing on Berry's list. Sure enough, before they turned in for the night, Berry drew Zinovy aside. \"Come with me to check on the bodies. I want to see what we have to deal with tomorrow.\"\n\nThey entered the module and approached the morgue corner. Zinovy looked down at the silent mounds on the floor. The plastic coverings had wilted somewhat and now hung loosely around the remains. The corpses had obviously undergone a radical decomposition. There was no odor. There was very little substance.\n\nZinovy lifted a corner of the cocoon around Redmond's body and dropped it again, surprised at its lightness. \"Something has happened to the water content,\" he said. The remains had more structure than a pile of ashes, but their mass seemed not much greater than cremation residue.\n\n\"It's good the decomposition has proceeded so quickly,\" Berry said, echoing Zinovy's thoughts. \"The bodies won't need any preparation. They'll be light to transport and we shouldn't need face masks.\"\n\n\"They may be a problem to pick up,\" Zinovy observed, looking down at the wrappings. \"Could lose something out the edges. What we need is a couple of body bags.\" The Galaxy Gaia had none. The station had been equipped, but body bags were not among the items the crew had selected for salvage in their haste to leave.\n\n\"Should we check the contents?\" Berry asked.\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"No need. We know what's in there.\" Strange to think that three days ago these had been living human beings. Now they were piles of dust.\n\nBerry glanced outside. \"It's good that odor isn't a problem,\" he said. \"We'll have to leave both doors open tonight, now that the oxygen's turned off.\"\n\nZinovy was relieved. He couldn't imagine how he'd ever tolerated closed doors. As they walked back into the cabin, he considered taking his mattress outside. In the end he compromised by dragging it from the bunkroom into the cabin and positioning it under the window closest to the door. Glaston joined him. The rest went to sleep in their bunks and slept soundly, exhausted from the excitement of the day.\n\nZinovy lay awake in the dim cabin, enveloped in a strange silence. Shutting down the air conditioning system had ended all unnatural sounds in this mysterious new world. He wondered if he'd ever hear the whir of technology again.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy woke early, roused by Berry's frustrated voice barking into the radio receiver. He sat up and squinted through the open module doors toward the glistening morning outside.\n\nBerry punched more buttons at the console. \"I can't figure out where they are. Anderson was maintaining a round-the-clock watch for survivors.\"\n\nZinovy rubbed his eyes. \"Either they made contact already or they've given up.\"\n\nAt 06:30, Canaveral came on line. The rest of the crew crawled out of their bunks and huddled around Berry as news from below filtered in.\n\nAnderson's voice blasted into the cabin, sounding out of place in the still atmosphere of the dead airship. \"The great thing is,\" he said, \"we've finally connected with some other underground bases. Three, so far.\"\n\nZinovy sat up, suddenly alert. \"Ask them who. Who's reported in?\"\n\nBerry relayed the question and Anderson answered: \"We've heard from Eindhoven, Ancora and Incirlik. Haven't been able to rouse anyone else yet, but we'll keep trying. If three bases survived, they all could have.\"\n\nZinovy was fully awake and thinking. FSB headquarters had no underground bunker, but its basement was deep, catacombed with passageways people could hunker down in. If Anton had made it there before the blast . . . .\n\nThe desire to avenge Nadya's death swept through Zinovy's veins once more. St. Petersburg, or what was left of it, was 6000 miles away. An impossible distance, considering. But if there was any way he could get there . . . . Zinovy had just been given a strong reason to survive. Impossible, but the thought lingered.\n\nBerry and Anderson talked for twenty minutes while the shuttle crew grabbed a cold breakfast and cleaned up the galley, their bodies inside, but their curious minds already outside in the glittering world. Finally the underground briefing ended and they gathered once more in the cabin to hear their leader's plans for the immediate future.\n\n\"First, we have to deal with the bodies,\" Berry began. \"We need a proper burial. I'm not sure how to go about that. Any ideas?\"\n\nIt was an awkward process. No one knew how to go about dismissing the spirits of the departed. Zinovy doubted that any of them actually believed the departed had spirits to dismiss, but they seemed driven by some vague sense that closure must be brought to the two lives that were gone.\n\n\"So, what do we say?\" Berry asked. \"We don't have a religious book to read from do we?\"\n\nThey didn't. Religious books had been banned by the Regime three years ago in an attempt to neutralize the archaic belief structures that had caused so much chaos during the centuries before the final, inevitable centralization of society.\n\n\"I seem to remember something about 'dust thou art and to dust thou shalt return,'\" Glaston said.\n\nIt seemed an appropriate epitaph, considering the state the bodies were in, but Chang demurred. \"That's not very uplifting. Maybe we could do some kind of a short eulogy for them.\"\n\n\"Okay. Who's going to do it? I can read something over the bodies, if someone else will do the wording.\" Berry looked from one to the other and they all looked at Chang.\n\n\"Grace, you knew Ellen better than the rest of us. Could you do a write up for her?\"\n\nShe thought she could probably come up with something, and with a little coaxing she agreed to do a write-up for Redmond as well. So the job of wording the eulogies was delegated and they proceeded with the other items on Berry's agenda.\n\nThe process should have been straightforward, but it wasn't.\n\nCHAPTER SIX\n\nIt looked simple on paper: first, the burials; next, preliminary exploration into the regions beyond the clearing; then, communication of their findings to the underground base.\n\nBerry had said nothing about their most serious problems. The more precise instruments they had in the ship measured current radiation levels at 550 mSv, both inside and out. No human had ever encountered levels so high. Historically, the Tehran event had produced the highest levels—350 mSv—over one hundred times those of the Hiroshima bomb. Everyone within a radius of 200 kilometers from the Tehran catastrophe had died immediately. Zinovy watched the others prepare to execute the day's activities and his sense of purpose wavered. Was anyone thinking rationally? What they were doing was nonsense. Doing anything was nonsense.\n\nBerry poked him in the side. \"Come on. We have work to do.\" Zinovy shook his head and grunted.\n\nCarter went to the ship's cargo bay to find something to dig with. Berry and Zinovy went into the docking module and stood over the bodies. The problem was logistical. \"How are we going to manage this?\" Berry asked. \"Do we have anything to carry them with?\"\n\n\"There's a stretcher on the wall there, but that won't work. We'd have to tilt it too much to get it down the ladder.\" Zinovy considered. \"I think, the condition the bodies are in, we should just put them in some kind of sling.\"\n\n\"How about sheets? Maybe the ones on their bunks?\"\n\nSo they made two slings, deposited the remains in them, plastic wrappings and all, and lowered first Rudzinski and then Redmond to the ground. One minor difficulty solved. Another to go.\n\nCarter had located a couple of spades with very short handles, designed to retrieve rock samples from planets other than earth, but they were workable. Berry and Zinovy selected a location not far from the ship and Carter and Glaston set to work digging. Glaston was three feet down when his spade hit something solid.\n\n\"Archie, get over here,\" Carter called across the clearing. \"We've run into a snag.\"\n\nBerry and Zinovy trotted over. \"It's concrete,\" Glaston said, clearing a space large enough to inspect.\n\nThe four men peered into the hole. \"So we are on the landing pad for sure,\" Berry said. He looked up at the ship. \"That would explain the settling of the shuttle when we landed. The landing gear must have sunk into the sod. It's resting on the concrete now.\"\n\n\"That means digging here's a waste,\" Carter said. \"Where's the canteen? I need a drink.\"\n\nGlaston grinned at his crewmate. \"It's not a waste, Charles. Exercise is good for you.\"\n\nBerry eyed the fringe on the edge of the clearing. \"We'll need to move the cemetery over there somewhere.\"\n\nSo the four went off to look for a suitable gravesite. They finally settled on a sheltered space in the center of a small copse of trees, and Carter and Glaston once again began digging.\n\nDigging here was easy. After the first foot and a half they hit a loose, loamy soil that came up as if it had been recently disturbed. They cleared two areas roughly four feet deep, three feet long and three feet wide. It was enough. They lowered the remains of their crewmates into the graves and prepared for the ceremony.\n\nBerry presided. The rest stood around and looked into the holes.\n\nChang had done a pretty good job with the wording of the eulogies, Zinovy thought, considering what she had to work with. She'd said some affirmative things about each of them, highlighting their contributions to the space program. Berry read the epitaphs, then concluded with a short statement of farewell. For lack of a more definite audience, he addressed his final words to the two who had gone beyond the sound of his voice: \"We wish you well. May you rest eternally in this beautiful place.\" It seemed a fitting substitute for a closing prayer.\n\nIn the moment of silence that followed, Zinovy thought of the waste of the two lives at his feet. Their deaths seemed premature, futile. Yet were they? What suffering would have been ahead of them if they had stayed? Maybe they'd chosen the best way.\n\nThe deed was done. Carter and Glaston spaded the dirt over the bodies and Zinovy helped them lay sod on top.\n\n\"We need some kind of grave marker,\" Berry said. \"No, not the spades. We might need them. Charles, go to the ship and find something else. Grace, you can go help him.\"\n\nChang came back with two small kit boxes containing some of the deceased's personal items and a permanent marker. Glaston and Zinovy pressed the containers into the loose soil at the head of each grave.\n\n\"Does anyone know if they had middle names?\" Chang asked. No one did, so she wrote \"Ellen Rudzinski\" and \"Daniel Redmond\" on the lids. Then they returned to the clearing ready to proceed with the next item on the list. Zinovy looked at his watch. It was just after 15:00. The burials had taken longer than they should have, but there was still time for exploration before the day ended.\n\nBerry called them together. \"All right. We need to do some reconnaissance. Zinovy, which direction did you take when you went the other day?\"\n\nZinovy pointed. \"Into the forest over there, west of the shuttle door.\" He hesitated. \"I think that's west. I don't know for sure.\" He looked around.\n\nBerry scratched his head. \"What position would the Galaxy Gaia be in when she landed?\" Redmond would know, but he was unavailable for questioning.\n\n\"Maybe we should talk to the Florida base.\"\n\nGlaston went off to radio the base while the others stood around and discussed the possibilities.\n\n\"If that's west,\" Berry said, pointing to the place Zinovy had entered the forest, \"Then the ocean should be over here.\" He swiveled 180 degrees to his left. Chang, Zinovy and Carter followed his gesture. Nothing but green growth met their gaze. \"How far away would it be?\"\n\nZinovy longed for action. \"We can find out.\"\n\n\"Hold on, Zinovy. We need to know directions first. We need a compass.\"\n\nCarter growled. \"Why would there be a compass on a spaceship?\"\n\n\"Forget a compass. We have a GPS,\" Zinovy said.\n\nGlaston came back with the instrument in his hand. The underground crew had suggested it. \"They have no idea how the shuttle would sit in relation to their position. The question has never come up.\"\n\nThe crew huddled over the GPS. Zinovy's instinct had been almost bang on.\n\n\"So,\" Berry said. \"Futch Cove should be about a mile away in that direction.\" He pointed east.\n\n\"I'll check it out,\" Zinovy said, reaching for the GPS.\n\nGlaston wanted to join him and Chang asked if she could go along to take notes. \"All right,\" Berry said. \"Be back in two hours. That should give you plenty of time.\"\n\nCarter had other plans. \"I'm going into the woods to check out the vegetation, maybe do some sampling. The stuff is unusual. Most of it I've never seen before.\"\n\n\"Watch it,\" Zinovy said. \"It's easy to lose your bearings once you get in there.\"\n\nCarter glared at Zinovy, then trudged off toward the fringe without replying. Zinovy watched him disappear into the foliage and smiled. Carter would get lost for sure.\n\nBerry interrupted his enjoyment. \"Get going, Zinovy. I want to know more about this place before we make our next move.\" So Zinovy turned and trotted away.\n\n* * *\n\nThe exploration crew headed toward a latitude/longitude axis that should have put them on the beach in less than twenty minutes, but it took them longer. Glaston and Chang weren't focusing on the mission. They wandered along, looking up and around—everywhere but at their feet. Zinovy carried the GPS and nudged them occasionally to keep them on track.\n\nThe vegetation in this easterly direction was much like what Zinovy had found to the west. Some of the more tropical species looked native to the area, but many did not. Most everything was out of place. Tall pines grew next to spreading oaks and maples. Olive and tamarind trees dotted the less densely forested sections. But most of the trees Zinovy could not even identify, and all were flush with new growth.\n\nNone of the plants were in bloom; no fruits were forming; just leaves and vines and stalks and branches, in every conceivable shade of green, and some shades that were not conceivable. The fluorescent air must account for the riot of color, Zinovy decided. There was no other rational explanation.\n\nHe came up against Chang, knee deep in rushes, breathing deeply of the shimmering air. They stood together on the edge of a long, gentle slope leading down ahead of them into a broad valley filled with patches of shimmering lime, deep green, and aquamarine.\n\n\"I can't believe how overpowering the smells are,\" Chang said. \"I'll get a whiff of something spicy, then the next breath is something sweet. And then there will be something I've never smelled before.\"\n\n\"That's fine,\" Zinovy said. \"Just don't stop to do your sniffing. We'll never find the ocean at this rate.\"\n\nThey walked for another hour and a half before Zinovy decided they must be lost. \"We should have made it to Futch Cove long before this.\" He frowned at the instrument in his hand. \"We should have been able to see the water just after we crossed that grassy stip of land that looked like it might have been Kennedy Parkway. But that was over an hour ago.\"\n\nGlaston stood on a mound of spongy moss beside him and looked over his shoulder. \"The GPS is placing us three miles into the water right here.\"\n\n\"That can't be right.\"\n\n\"Maybe the air has damaged the GPS,\" Chang said.\n\n\"I don't know. But we might as well go back. This is getting us nowhere.\"\n\n\"Going back will get us nowhere if the GPS is broken,\" Glaston pointed out.\n\nZinovy frowned at him and they turned from the valley and reversed their steps. Two hours later they spotted the shuttle through the filigreed fronds of the vegetation surrounding the landing site. Zinovy saw his relief mirrored on Berry's face when they came through a break in the vegetation at the edge of the clearing.\n\n\"Archie, you're not going to believe this,\" Glaston called when they were within earshot.\n\n\"Things are getting stranger all the time,\" Chang said.\n\nZinovy waited until they were closer, then gave his report. It was a short one. \"There is no ocean,\" he said.\n\nBerry frowned. \"What do you mean there's no ocean? Did you get lost?\"\n\n\"I don't know. We went to the spot where it should be and past there, but we found nothing but vegetation. Either the landing pad has moved, or the ocean.\"\n\nZinovy saw the commander's face tighten. He knew what Berry was thinking. They'd been talking to the Florida base, all the time assuming it was somewhere in the vicinity of the grounded shuttle. They'd dug down and found the concrete of the pad below them. They had to be where they thought they were. And the ocean had to be nearby. But it wasn't.\n\nZinovy studied the uncharacteristic annoyance on Berry's face, and his stomach growled. \"I'm hungry. Let's eat. We can deal with this later. There has to be a reasonable explanation.\"\n\nCarter had not come back. \"No sense in searching, since we have no idea where to look,\" Berry said. He and Glaston went to the ship to begin supper and Chang went with them. Zinovy lingered near the edge of the clearing where Carter had disappeared. If he never came back it wouldn't matter. One less annoyance to deal with.\n\nBut then Carter broke through the brush at his elbow. Zinovy caught a fleeting look of relief on his face and smiled. \"Hello,\" he said. \"We were worried about you. What took you so long?\" Carter hitched a garbage bag of plant specimens higher on his shoulder. \"What's that? It looks like you've pulled the forest up by the roots.\"\n\nCarter grumbled an unintelligible reply and marched off toward the shuttle. Zinovy turned and followed, smirking as he watched clumps of soil drop from the root of an especially large sample with every heavy step Carter took.\n\nVacuum-packed chicken casserole was on the menu that night with cherry cobbler for dessert. It was a celebration of sorts. They were all together, still in one piece, still free of radiation sickness. Any day ending that way from now on, Zinovy decided, would be worth celebrating.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy shut his eyes against the glow of the morning light, dragged himself across the module floor and stumbled down the ladder. He missed the last rung, landed in a pool of bloody vomit, and lay panting, waiting for the strength to get up. A craving for fresh air had driven him from the ship. Blind instinct told him the others needed it as well.\n\nHe pulled himself together, wiped the slime from his scruffy chin, and headed back up. He found Glaston inside the cabin door, groaning in a pool of his own crimson-streaked vomit. Zinovy grabbed him by the waistband, hauled him through the module, lowered him part way down and dropped him. Then he went back. Halfway down the hall he ran into Berry. \"Get out of here,\" he said. \"I'll get the others.\" He found Chang in her bunk, retching violently, and Carter with his head in the toilet.\n\nWithin minutes they all lay sprawled on the ground at the base of the ladder, gasping for air. Zinovy drifted in and out of consciousness. Bloody hallucinations tormented his semi-conscious moments, the revulsion of his phobia driving him insane with each wave of the bright, red images. Minutes later—or was it hours?—the sound of Anderson's voice, urgent, demanding, jarred him fully awake. \"This is Canaveral, calling Gaia. I repeat: come in, Gaia. Where are you?\"\n\nZinovy hauled himself up the ladder and clicked into the receiver. \"We've got a problem,\" he said.\n\n\"What problem?\" Anderson asked. \"Where's Berry?\"\n\nZinovy, not into long explanations at the best of times, scrambled back down, delivered the message, and watched through bleary eyes as Berry struggled up into the cabin. Then his head fell back, visions of red still swimming through the pain at the back of his neck. His stomach churned, sending knives into his gut with every movement, but nothing came up any more.\n\nIt seemed an eternity before Berry appeared at the door again. \"Zinovy, get up here.\"\n\nThe look on Berry's face dragged him to his feet. He headed toward the ladder, shaking the cobwebs from his brain, wondering what new impossible problem confronted them now.\n\n\"The base has been trying to contact us for two days,\" Berry said as Zinovy ducked into the cabin.\n\n\"Two days? We've been lying out there for two days?\"\n\nBerry nodded. \"Anderson's got a bunch of claustrophobic young men down there and he wants to send them up to us.\"\n\nZinovy swore. \"Doesn't he know what a mess we're in?\"\n\n\"I told him. He doesn't care.\"\n\n\"It's impossible. We aren't prepared to deal with more people.\"\n\nAnderson's voice cut in. Berry went to the radio and Zinovy scrambled back outside. In a minute, Berry joined him on the ground. \"I told him no, \" he said.\n\nGlaston sat up and rubbed his head. \"What's happening?\" Carter rolled over, spilling his guts once again. Berry relayed Anderson's request.\n\nChang groaned. \"Why on earth would they want to come up? Don't they know we're dying?\"\n\n* * *\n\nBut the Gaia crew did not die. By the next day all symptoms had disappeared.\n\n\"I don't understand it,\" Berry said to Zinovy. \"I thought sure the sickness was beginning.\"\n\n\"And did you notice, the vomit's gone too?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"The mess we made on the ground—it's disappeared.\"\n\nBerry looked around. \"You're right.\" They stood quietly for a minute. \"And the way the bodies disintegrated—same thing.\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"There's no dead organic matter anywhere.\"\n\nBerry shrugged. \"Who knows what's going on. But if the radiation's not going to kill us immediately, we need to think about our future. I want an assessment of our situation. Go get the others. We'll do an inventory—figure out what provisions we have.\"\n\nThey gathered under the nose of the ship and Berry gave instructions: \"Grace, you check our food supply. Eric, you and Charles clear out the cargo bay. I want everything sorted and on the ground so we can see what we've got. Zinovy, find out how we're doing for water.\"\n\nWater was their biggest problem. Berry groaned when Zinovy reported back with the measurements. \"It's going too fast,\" he said. \"It's the thirst. I can't understand why we're so thirsty. We're not sweating.\"\n\n\"Maybe we are sweating, but the moisture evaporates rapidly, like the vomit.\"\n\nBerry sighed. \"That's possible.\" They stood for a moment, then Berry said, \"Go check on Eric and Charles.\"\n\nIn the cargo bay, Zinovy found Glaston and Carter knee-deep in boxes. In preparing for their return, they'd filled the ship with equipment valuable to the Regime. But after the mushroom cloud event, they'd pulled some of the larger items out and replaced them with anything they could find that might prove useful if they survived the landing. Zinovy looked around, hands on hips.\n\n\"I don't see how any of this is going to help,\" Glaston said. \"It all has to be plugged in somewhere and there aren't any electrical sockets any more.\"\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"We'll take it out and see.\"\n\nSo they laid the cargo out on the mossy turf around the shuttle and began their inventory. Chang reported on the food: \"There's maybe enough for three weeks if we're careful.\"\n\n\"Our water supply is worse,\" Berry told them. \"If we just use it for drinking and cooking it'll last less than two weeks.\"\n\nThe deadlines sobered them. Then Berry led them on to other concerns.\n\n\"That's food and water,\" he said. \"As for shelter, we don't really need it, I guess.\" He looked around at the balmy air. \"The elements certainly aren't harsh.\" The irony of the remark struck Zinovy like a mallet.\n\nBut the real mallet blow was yet to fall. Glaston brought it down on their heads an hour later when he came running from the shuttle yelling for Berry. \"We've got problems,\" he panted. \"The lights are dimming.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I think we're running out of power. I was getting a glass of water and—\"\n\nBerry and Zinovy jumped up and ran to the shuttle. They scrambled up the ladder into the cabin and squinted in the darkness toward the bank of food and water dispensers on the galley wall. Zinovy instinctively reached out and switched off the flickering lights.\n\nBerry swore. \"This is the end of us. Why didn't I think? If we don't have power everything's trapped in these dispensers.\" He pounded a fist on the nearest unit and swore again. Then he straightened and turned to Glaston. \"How about the radio? Can we still get through to the underground base?\"\n\n\"We might have enough left for that, I don't know.\"\n\nBerry grabbed his arm and shoved him toward the communications console. \"Get Anderson on the line. I need to talk to him right now.\"\n\nTen minutes later the three joined Carter and Chang on the ground.\n\n\"There's been a change in plans,\" Berry announced. \"We're going to have company.\"\n\nEyebrows went up and the protests began. \"We don't have enough supplies for ourselves. How can we take care of any others?\"\n\n\"No, wait. Hear me out.\" Berry explained. \"Forty-five people are down there. Of those forty-five, at least eight want to come aboveground. A couple others are still deciding.\" He looked around at them. \"Anderson says he has enough supplies—food, water and energy—to keep them all for a month and a half.\" He paused. \"Think about it. That's a lot more than we've got.\" Then he went on. \"We'll let them come up on one condition: they have to bring their portion of the food supply and water with them, and they'll also have to bring us power.\"\n\nCarter mused. \"They've probably got a stash of hydrogen cells down there.\" He looked up. \"Hey, if they bring up their portions of food, they'd have more than we do.\"\n\n\"They'd have to be willing to add what they bring to the general stores. We'd all share equally.\"\n\n\"But if they did that, they'd lose days of eating. Why would they want to?\"\n\n\"They'd have to be motivated, for sure,\" Glaston said. \"but they might be, if they want to get out from underground bad enough.\"\n\nCarter still balked. \"But what if they say they will, so we let them come up, and then they change their minds about sharing? When push comes to shove, they might get aggressive about it.\"\n\n\"But we could do the same thing, Charles,\" Chang pointed out. \"What's to stop any of us from storming the supplies at the end?\"\n\nBerry let them argue, then brought them back to the conclusion he'd obviously already come to. \"We'll take our chances with their attitude. If they decide not to share once they're up, we'll deal with it then.\"\n\n\"What do we do for water in the meantime? And food?\"\n\n\"Charles, didn't you say we've got a couple of extra hydrogen cells? Hook one of them up to the system. Then you and Grace get in there and pull all the water and food you can from the dispensers before the power goes. I'm going to talk to Anderson again.\"\n\n\"Hold on,\" Carter said. \"As long as we're asking for stuff . . . .\"\n\nBy the time Berry left to make his call, several items had been added to the list of their demands. He came back five minutes later. \"He's going to see if he can manage it. He'll call in the morning. Now let's get busy.\"\n\nThey attached the new power supply and Chang and Carter began draining the water tanks. \"Fill as many containers as you can find. And cover them tightly,\" he added. \"The way moisture evaporates around here we'll lose it all in a day.\"\n\n\"What about food?\"\n\n\"Take out enough for a couple of days and leave the rest for now. We'll need power to cook as well, and I want to save the other cell for communications backup.\"\n\nThe water must be covered for another reason, Zinovy thought, as he watched the precious commodity trickle into the plastic jug at Chang's feet. The contamination problem loomed always in the back of his mind.\n\nBerry gave another order: \"Eric, Zinovy, come with me. I want to move the command center outside. There's no reason to stay in here any more. Eric, you can hook us up with Anderson from outside, can't you?\"\n\n\"No problem, mate.\"\n\nSo the two men detached the furniture from the floor of the ship. They dragged it out onto the clearing and across the spongy green turf to the edge of the forest and Glaston set about reconnecting the communications system. Then they went back to retrieve their mattresses. No one had the stomach to sleep in the shuttle after the sickness.\n\nBy suppertime they'd accomplished as much as they could without power. \"One other thing and we're done for the night,\" Berry said. He gestured to the scattered mess of equipment. \"I want all this disposed of. Sort out the things you want to keep and stow them in the ship. Then stack the rest of it around behind the shuttle somewhere out of sight.\"\n\nCarter protested. \"Why bother? It's a lot of work for nothing.\"\n\nBut Berry insisted, so they cleaned up. Carter hauled his plant storage containers off to the lab and Glaston gathered up any electronic equipment he might need to repair the communication system. Then they worked together to lug the rest of the equipment around behind the shuttle.\n\nWhen their environment was in order, Berry opened the EVARM's storage/badge reader unit and placed radiation detector badges on Zinovy, Glaston and Carter. Then he carried the box to the new headquarters, placed it under a tree near the circle of seats, and activated the reader. Zinovy followed him and looked over his shoulder at the first reading. It was not encouraging.\n\n* * *\n\nMorning came. Zinovy crawled out of his bedroll, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and wandered over to the command center where Berry stood talking to Anderson in the underground base.\n\n\"What have you decided? Can you send up the supplies we want?\"\n\n\"We're working on it. I need to get rid of these young men. They're attitude is bad for our morale.\"\n\n\"So you're going to pass the morale problem off to us, eh?\"\n\n\"They'll be fine once they get up top.\"\n\n\"There's no guarantee they'll live up here.\"\n\n\"They know that.\"\n\n\"Are they okay with sharing their provisions?\"\n\n\"They're fine with it.\"\n\n\"All right,\" Berry said. \"If you're determined, we'll work with you on the transfer. But we have to have the other items as well.\"\n\nZinovy heard an audible sigh of relief at the other end of the line. \"Good. I'll go get things set up. Here, I'll put our supply clerk on the line. He can negotiate your ransom demands.\"\n\nBerry handed the mike to Glaston. \"You take over. Push for as much power as we can get. That's a priority.\"\n\nGlaston repeated the request to his counterpart below ground.\n\n\"We can spare you eight hydrogen cartridges,\" the clerk told him. \"That's all. We're worried about our power supply too. Most of it's locked into our facility so we can't send it to you anyway.\"\n\n\"We did find a laser saw,\" he added. \"I couldn't believe it. I don't know why it was down here, but someone found it on a shelf in the maintenance department. Why do you want one anyway? It's got its own generator, but it'll eat up the power pretty fast, you realize.\"\n\n\"Our botanist wants it to get tree ring samples and we may need it to bushwhack too. The forest is pretty dense in places,\" Glaston told him.\n\n\"Dense forest. That sounds impossible. If we could figure out a reason you might be lying to us we wouldn't believe you.\"\n\n\"I don't blame you. We're stumped ourselves. The green stuff has to be fast growing. It's all young. There's no dead wood. We can't explain it, but it's real.\"\n\nOne item on the list they had given Anderson was unavailable. Only one security officer below ground had a gun and he was not willing to part with it.\n\n* * *\n\nThe eight new recruits came up the next day. It was not a simple procedure. The underground crew had made elaborate preparations. The supplies going aboveground were stashed in the facility's airlock chamber. The men were packed and ready to go. Anderson rigged them with communications equipment so they could speak to the underground facility while they made the transfer. They said their farewells and moved into the chamber. The hatch separating them from the underground facility was closed and sealed. All systems were go. The crew had thought of everything, except how to get the door to the outside open. The hatch mechanism moved as it should, breaking the seal and removing the pins that locked the unit in place. But, when the men tried to push the lid up, it wouldn't budge.\n\nA mild panic erupted in the chamber. The boys were not in danger—they could move back into the facility if they couldn't get out—but none of them were happy with that alternative. They put their shoulders together and shoved hard against the door, with no result.\n\nZinovy was alone near the comm unit when the call from Anderson came in. \"Can you find out what's causing the blockage?\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Zinovy said. \"I'll find Berry and we'll get back to you.\"\n\nAs he left the workstation, Zinovy noticed several holes on the casing of the console. Something was eating away at the nanotube covering. He stored the observation away, knowing they'd have to deal with the issue at some point. He found Berry in the boneyard, with Grace and Eric. \"We've got another problem,\" he said.\n\nThe crew moved to the command center and Berry connected with Anderson. \"Does the chamber open out at ground level or is it below ground somewhere?\"\n\n\"Ground level, or close to. The entrance is on the south side of the aboveground facility near the emergency exit door we'd normally use.\"\n\n\"Uh, well, we're going to need more information than that,\" Berry said. \"The facility's gone, remember?\"\n\nNo response. Finally Anderson came back on line. \"I don't know. We'll have to think about this and get back to you.\"\n\nZinvoy wasn't surprised at Anderson's reply. Everyone had been saying \"I don't know\" a lot lately.\n\nArchie turned to the others. \"I'm not sure what to do. How can we locate the chamber from up here?\"\n\n\"What's wrong with using the GPS?\" Grace asked.\n\nArchie winced. \"Of course. Eric, go get it. Bring one of the EMU units too—the one Zinovy used. We need some kind of portable comm device so we can talk to them on site. Zinovy, you go help him carry things.\"\n\nThe two went off and came back with the equipment, and within minutes they'd located the underground hatch a hundred and fifty meters north of the shuttle. It took Glaston fifteen minutes to arrange a connection from the EMU to the base. Then Archie got on the radio again.\n\n\"Give us your measurements, fellows,\" he said. \"Where is the hatch relative to the walls of the compartment?\"\n\nInformation volleyed back and forth. They figured, paced off distances, argued about their location, and eventually the Gaia crew chose a spot and began digging. Soon they were through the turf to solid material. They tapped it with a shovel. A metallic clang echoed back.\n\nThey cleared an area the size of a lunar lander before the lid began to give way, but finally, with pushes from underneath and tugs from above, the hatch broke open and the eight young prisoners pushed free and bounded up the ladder to the first natural light they'd seen in over two weeks. As each one emerged, their exclamations fell away. They gazed around and wonder filled their faces.\n\nBerry let the new arrivals wander for half an hour, investigating their new surroundings, then he set them to work transferring the supplies from the airlock compartment to the base in the clearing.\n\nThey carried the large items first. Then, silently, the boys brought their food stores and water bottles, arranging them in a neat stack beside the other items, turning the deliberate action into a ceremony. Zinovy stood by, directing their movements. Their serious faces indicated that they knew what they were doing: the transfer of the rations reduced their survival potential from forty-five days to twenty-two. But their eyes reflected a dogged determination. Twenty-two days probably seemed like a long time to them.\n\n* * *\n\nLunch was a picnic. The exposure to a natural atmosphere was like a tonic to the boys. Never mind that the colorful luminescence surrounding them crackled with radiation. The air they breathed was bright and free and moving, and they reveled in the thrill of the moment. Zinovy munched on a granola bar and watched them eat. Young. None could be over nineteen. Too young to work at the jobs they'd been given. The Regime, like everyone else, had been dealing with an unprecedented labor shortage, caused by a large run of natural disasters during the last few years.\n\nAfter lunch, Berry called another meeting. Item number one on the agenda was introductions. Berry began with the young men.\n\nGraham Moore, a sandy-haired, well-built seventeen-year-old, had been part of the custodial night crew. He'd been caught in the facility at the time of the event because he'd come to work early, afraid his ancient car might break down on the way to the base.\n\nAlex Roberts, tall and thin with a ruddy, pock-marked complexion, was a computer technologist, and Ji-Jung Kim—\"Mike,\" he corrected with a grin—was a software specialist. At nineteen, they were the oldest of the lot. Zinovy grunted. It would be a while before the world would need their talents again. He put his hands on his hips and looked at the next new crew member.\n\n\"I am Raheem—Raheem Janif—from the material records department. I am paid by the government to manage all the paper computers were supposed to get rid of.\" He was a good-looking kid, somewhat on the stocky side, with sparkling brown eyes that danced as he spoke. He might be useful to Grace.\n\n\"I am glad to be here,\" Raheem added. \"Thank you for allowing us.\"\n\nNext around the circle were Simon and Ruben Strachan—sixteen-year-old identical twins who went everywhere together. Ruben spoke for both of them. \"We're glad to come up too.\" He shook his head. \"Too close down there.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Simon added. \"It was too close even before this thing happened. Me and Ruben were in the middle of our 36-hour shift. We had to work over the whole holiday.\"\n\n\"Thirty-six-hour shifts? That's strange,\" Berry said.\n\n\"We didn't work the whole time. We'd work twelve hours, then sleep, then work another twelve. Then we'd be off for forty-eight.\"\n\n\"Why such long shifts?\"\n\nAnother of the young men picked up the conversation. \"Orders from Supreme Command Headquarters. Our boss-man thought it was to cut out movement around the base. Something to do with security. The whole pad was locked down tight last time I came in. Nobody in or out that didn't have this special pass.\" He paused. \"I'm Emery Daniels, by the way.\" He grinned, his teeth gleaming white against his chocolate-colored skin. \"I'm custodial too.\" The grin vanished. \"Or, I was.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. Tight security, at all stations. And still the whole world blew up.\n\nConrad Cusick, as fair as Emery was dark, completed the crew. \"I was signing off work when the nuclear event happened, in a hurry to leave because of the curfew. We all had to be home before midnight on New Year's Eve.\"\n\nBerry introduced the Gaia people, then he explained the command structure: \"We require discipline and cooperation from all crew members. The unusual situation we're in makes that discipline especially necessary. We need to work together to make things as livable as possible for everyone, for as long as we can. Our resources are limited, as you are aware, but we'll share all of them equally. No one is to wander from the base camp without permission. It's easy to get lost, so stay close at all times. I'm responsible for the leadership of the mission. If you have problems you report directly to me. Understood?\" The young men nodded.\n\nBy the time the meeting adjourned, everyone had been assigned areas of responsibility in the newly formed community. Glaston would handle the maintenance of all equipment, including instruments for communication and radiation measurement. Mike and Alex would be his assistants. Grace would oversee the clerical end of things, keeping records and working with Archie on meeting agendas and minutes. Raheem would be her helper. Carter became the research director, doing experiments that would help them learn more about their environment. He didn't want an assistant so the other five newcomers were placed under Zinovy's supervision.\n\nZinovy was in charge of supplies—storage and distribution. \"We'll set out one day's ration of water at a time,\" Berry said, drawing him aside. \"All the rest—food and water—needs to be in the shuttle. I don't expect any trouble, but I'd rather have supplies stowed where we can monitor comings and goings around them. And while you're at it, hook up another of the fuel cells in the cabin and clean out the dispensers. We don't want anything left in them if our power runs out.\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"I'd like to make a place for the equipment in the forest over here. Many things are too heavy to carry in and out of the shuttle.\"\n\n\"Whatever you want,\" Archie said. \"You're in charge of the physical plant.\"\n\n\"What physical plant? We have none.\"\n\nArchie grinned. \"We will. You're going to build it. For starters, I want you to construct a shelter.\"\n\n\"We need a shelter?\"\n\nBerry glanced up at Zinovy and his grin faded. \"Any day now we're going to need an infirmary. Until then, Grace can sleep in it. It'll give her some privacy.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Zinovy said.\n\nArchie went on. \"Before you go, there's one other thing. I'm feeling the need for some backup in the decisions I have to make. You've been supportive all along, but I'd like to make it official. I'd like to announce your appointment as second-in-command.\"\n\nZinovy's eyebrows shot up.\n\n\"If anything happened to me,\" Archie said, \"they'd need some kind of leadership in place.\"\n\nA moment passed. Finally Zinovy said, \"All right. If you think it necessary.\"\n\nCHAPTER SEVEN\n\nZinovy was shocked, not only by Berry's offer, but by his own easy acceptance. He didn't like taking responsibility for other people's well-being. But then it might never come to that, and if it did, he could probably manage. He felt more in control these days. Though the strangeness of the landscape and the bizarre situation they found themselves in still rattled him, the disturbing flights into irrational fancy that had bombarded him during his first few hours in the glittering atmosphere were over. The biggest surprises were behind them. They knew pretty much what was ahead, even if they didn't know how it had all come about. And although it wouldn't be pleasant, he felt ready to meet the challenge.\n\nNo telling how the others would react to his new position. Carter was probably the only one who would take issue, but then he took issue with everything. Zinovy shrugged and went off to give instructions to his crew.\n\nHe approached two of the boys, who were huddled together inspecting something on the ground. \"We have Simon here, and Ruben, right?\" The boys nodded and stood up. \"You're identical twins?\" They nodded again. Zinovy put his hands on his hips. \"How am I to tell you apart?\"\n\n\"Simon has a patch of white above his left ear here, see?\" Ruben pulled his brother's head around. \"He got in a fight when he was a kid. The guy pulled out a handful of his hair and it grew back like this.\"\n\n\"I see. And you're the spokesperson for the two of you?\"\n\n\"No,\" Simon said. \"Sometimes he is and sometimes it's me. We take turns.\"\n\n\"I see. And here . . . .\" He turned as three others came up on his right.\n\n\"I'm Graham. He's Conrad, and that's Emery.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes. You were all custodial in the underground base.\"\n\n\"Yes sir,\" Conrad said.\n\n\"You're used to physical work, then. That's good. The first thing we have to do is move the supplies. The food and water goes into the shuttle, and the equipment we'll put in the forest. I'll show you where. You—with the blue shirt—what's your name again? Yes, Conrad, you and you and you—I forget already, Emery and Graham? Okay. Grab the saw and the other pieces of equipment and come with me. You two . . . \" Zinovy gestured toward the twins. \"Get the food and water up into the shuttle. Put it on the counters for now. We'll arrange it later. Once these things are disposed of, we'll begin to build a shelter for the woman.\"\n\nThe boys dealt with their chores quickly, eager to get on with the building project. The three others complained when they heard about the plans. \"Why can't we work on the shelter too? There's nothing else for us to do right now.\" So Zinovy's construction crew grew to eight energetic young amateurs, all eager to get their hands on the saw.\n\n* * *\n\nAll afternoon the forest rang with the shouts of the young carpenters and the buzz of the saw. The wood Zinovy chose for the shelter was sturdy and aromatic. The laser sliced through it smoothly, releasing a spicy fragrance into the atmosphere around them. Zinovy watched the boys for a while, giving a word of instruction here and there, then he counted noses to make sure none had wandered off, and left them to the task.\n\nCarter followed the construction crew around, retrieving fresh core samples from the trees they cut down and carrying them off to the lab for another attempt at analysis. The samples he'd collected on his first field trip had disintegrated by the time he felt well enough to study them.\n\nLate in the afternoon Zinovy walked back to the work site to check on the boys' progress. Raheem glanced up from the ground where he knelt. \"Look, Commander Kozlov. See this pile of sawdust? It smells good—like warm trees. Reminds me of the wind in the cedars at night back home where I grew up. I am going to give it to the lady.\" He collected the sawdust, fine as talcum powder, put it in a small metal container he'd brought up with him, and stuck it in his pocket.\n\n\"Remember to do your job first. I'm sure she'd rather have a shelter to sleep in.\"\n\nBy early evening a pile of smooth, slender logs lay beside the grove Grace had selected for her quarters. In the morning the boys would attach the logs to a stand of closely spaced trees, creating walls that would afford her some degree of privacy.\n\nRuben and Simon harvested long tendrils from the top of a tree that Carter couldn't identify. They would be used to strap the logs together and support them against the frame. Broad leafy branches from a cluster of scrub trees along the rim of the clearing would serve as a roof.\n\nThe assignment had turned into a good workout, and by the time the brightness of the day had given way to the soft dusk of night everyone was ready to turn in. The eight newcomers lay for a long time on their backs in their bedrolls, staring into the softly glowing sky. Eventually they slept.\n\nJust before dawn the sickness began.\n\n* * *\n\nDawn crept in, lightening the sky and touching the eyelids of the sleeping pilgrims in the clearing.\n\nThe new crewmembers should have been up and ready for the day. Zinovy glanced at their bulging bedrolls as he walked to the shuttle. They'd obviously not been military trained. He prepared breakfast alone, using the last of their oats and almost all the milk from the ship's stores.\n\nAs he finished, Grace joined him in the galley, and they carried the cereal across the green to the command center where Berry and Glaston stood at the communications console, talking. Glaston was inspecting the nanotube damage Zinovy had noticed the day before.\n\nZinovy went to rouse the boys. Carter sat on the ground in the clearing, looking a little green. \"Breakfast is ready,\" Zinovy said as he passed. The botanist didn't respond.\n\nZinovy stopped at the first bedroll and nudged the lump with his toe. No movement. He nudged harder and a low groan escaped from the covers. He bent over and uncovered a tousled head. Its owner groaned again, then sat up and spilled his insides on the ground at Zinovy's feet. Zinovy took one, tortured look at the blood seeping into the grass and ran for help.\n\nGrace carried medication for digestive distress to the boys, forcing them to sit up long enough to swallow the pills. Then she joined the Gaia crew as they gathered to discuss the situation.\n\n\"This doesn't make sense,\" Zinovy said. \"They've only been aboveground one day. If the radiation affected them so soon, why hasn't it affected the rest of us?\"\n\n\"There's nothing we can do but wait,\" Berry concluded. \"We'll give them a chance to rest. Maybe it's just the excitement and their heavy exertion yesterday.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't convinced, but when the boys gradually began to come around, crawling out of their blankets and asking for something to eat, his skepticism subsided.\n\n\"I'm not totally at ease with the recovery either, but I'm glad for the reprieve,\" Berry said to Zinovy. \"We may not have to deal with the sickness problem anyway. We'll probably run out of water first.\"\n\nBy noon, healthy and exuberant again, the construction crew began putting the shelter together, and by dinnertime the walls were up and the roof was on. \"Grace, it's yours until we need it for . . . something else,\" Berry said. So Grace moved her bunk mattress and personal belongings in. When she was settled, the boys came to inspect their handiwork.\n\n\"Gosh,\" Ruben said when he saw the results. \"It looks like home.\"\n\n\"Is this your family?\" Alex asked, looking at the pictures she'd pegged to the doorframe.\n\nZinovy noticed the container of tree talc Raheem had given her sitting on a small nightstand she'd contrived by her bed. The smell lent an exotic kind of elegance to the atmosphere. The visitors lingered a while, enjoying Grace's pleasure in the arrangements. Then Mike and Alex went to the galley to heat water for beef stroganoff and the others wandered off to explore.\n\nZinovy tramped along the path to the equipment storage area. The hydrogen tanks the Florida crew had sent up were powering their cooking process. They would likely hold up until the food ran out, he mused darkly. He studied his feet, slashing through the grass already growing over the trail he'd blazed, and pondered the supply situation. A sudden swishing sound brought his head up just in time to see the slight figure of a young boy dart away through the trees. Zinovy stopped, rooted to the spot for an instant. Then he broke into a run.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy thrashed through the brush after the fleeing shirttails, but the young boy slipped through the greenery more easily. In no time the shimmering mist enveloped him and he was gone.\n\nZinovy swore. For the second time this mirage had dissolved before his eyes. He took a quick breath and pressed on. The boy must be found. He was evidence Zinovy was not living in an unreal, nightmare world.\n\nWhere could he have gone? The terrain limited the possibilities. Some of the brush was too thick for even a slim body to pass through. Zinovy barreled along, whipping tendrils and branches out of his way, until, without warning, he broke through the dense foliage into a copse of slender trees and found the boy, nearly at his feet. He had time to snap a quick mental picture of the tense, crouching body, the thin, harried face, the wild, staring eyes, before the wily creature was upon him.\n\nThe attack caught Zinovy by surprise. He later decided the sight of three small children huddled in a nest of branches behind the wild one's protective crouch had taken the edge off his defenses. At any rate, he was down.\n\nThe boy leaped off his chest, eyeing a break in the trees at the edge of the thicket. Zinovy reached up and grabbed a foot just above the ankle. His quarry came down hard and fighting, agile limbs thrashing wildly against the ironclad hold on his leg. Zinovy rolled over and flung his body down on top of the boy, pinning him to the ground. It was then he realized that the body under him was not that of a boy.\n\nThe girl stiffened frantically under the weight of his body and he immediately leaped to his feet. She leapt up as well, and they stared at each other.\n\nThe girl's eyes were large with fear, but a fierce defiance flashed in them as well. When her anxious gaze darted behind him at the children, he realized her immediate concern was how she could best protect her nest, so he used that focus—her only apparent weakness—to gain control of the situation. He moved slowly toward the children, talking quietly to them, but keeping an eye on the girl. \"Don't be afraid,\" he said. \"I won't hurt you.\"\n\nThe girl didn't move. He straightened, and spoke to her. \"I'm sorry. I didn't realize . . . \" He stopped, considering how he might gain her confidence. The look on her face convinced him it was a lost cause, but the children might be an ace-in-the-hole.\n\nHe reached out a hand to the youngest, a small boy who looked up at him in wonder, a look of quiet contemplation on his bright face. The boy took the hand, nestling his tiny one into the large palm and allowing Zinovy to curl his fingers around it.\n\nA shock rippled through Zinovy's body as the warmth of the little fist resting within his own moved up his arm and into his chest. The girl's swift movement interrupted his bewilderment. She started toward them, then stopped, obviously terrified, but unsure how to proceed.\n\nTaking advantage of her confusion, Zinovy led the boy around her toward the break in the brush. The boy stopped at the edge of the thicket and turned. \"Come on, Sara. It's all right,\" he said softly.\n\nThe girl could do nothing but follow. After a moment's hesitation she gathered the other two children and the motley convoy made its way through the undergrowth toward the camp.\n\n\"What the . . . ?\" Berry's jaw dropped as they walked in.\n\n\"Found them in the bushes,\" Zinovy signaled to the nearest bystanders. \"Graham, Alex, watch them. Don't let them run off.\" Then he took Berry aside. \"We've got to interrogate them—find out where they came from.\" He glanced at the girl. \"She's a wild one. I don't know if she even talks.\"\n\nBerry studied the group huddled on the ground between Graham and Alex. \"If she does talk it won't be to us,\" he said. \"We need Grace.\"\n\nGrace came, introduced herself to the girl, and led them all away to her quarters. Zinovy posted Graham and Alex nearby, then made himself scarce, sending warning looks to the rest of the crew when their curiosity led them too close. Finally Grace reappeared and walked to the command center where Zinovy paced back and forth.\n\n\"Well, did you learn anything?\"\n\n\"Yes, she opened up a bit,\" Grace said. \"She's definitely more comfortable with women. She startled every time a male wandered near. I think she's had some trouble there.\"\n\n\"So what—\"\n\n\"She and the children are from a protectorate—somewhere west of here I think.\"\n\n\"A protectorate.\" Zinovy had heard of these feudal-type compounds, built by private citizens for their own defense when the New World Order began to outgrow its ability to police the outlying areas, and local authorities lost control. \"Is this place still there? How—\"\n\n\"She didn't say. They left before the event, so she might not even know. She was in a hurry to get away. I couldn't get more details, but whatever caused her to leave so quickly must have been serious. She said it took them four days to get here. They had to go slowly, and they got lost a time or two.\"\n\n\"Four days?\" Zinovy figured. \"Then she might have just arrived when I saw her out the window.\" He turned to Grace. \"She left before the event? Do you mean she was outside when it happened?\" He shook his head. \"That can't be. They must have been underground.\"\n\nHe figured some more. \"So she's been hanging around here for ten days. Did she say what they did all that time?\"\n\n\"No, she didn't say anything else, and I didn't want to pry. I was lucky to find out as much as I did. She must have a better sense of direction than I do though, because she was heading for this place. Two of the children belong to a couple who work at Canaveral. She was trying to get them connected with their parents.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Zinovy rubbed his chin. \"We need to contact the underground base—find out if the parents are there. Did you get names?\" Then, as an afterthought he added, \"How did she plan to make connection with the parents from here? You can't just go up and knock on a door to the underground shelter.\"\n\n\"She said she didn't think of that until she got here. She was so focused on finding her way and keeping the younger children safe she probably didn't even stop to think that the facility might be gone. Anyway, she'd been pondering what to do with the children when we came. I told her we might be able to help with that and she was visibly relieved. I think the responsibility of caring for them has been weighing heavily on her.\"\n\n\"You told her we could contact Anderson? Did you talk to Berry?\"\n\n\"No. I wanted to talk to you first. Do you want me to do that now?\"\n\n\"Talk to Berry, yes. There's no way we can get them together, but we can at least tell the parents their children are here.\" He started to go, then turned back. \"Do they have what they need for tonight?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'll make room for them in the shelter. The girl is skittish around other people.\"\n\nZinovy didn't need to be told that. \"Okay, but you keep an eye on her. I don't want her running away again. If she lived in this environment that long she may have learned survival skills that could help us. We still have lots of unanswered questions.\"\n\nZinovy was not used to living with unanswered questions. They were alive. That was a good thing. But why? How? And for how long?\n\n\"By the way,\" added Grace, with a grin. \"I told her you aren't quite as terrifying a beast as you look. She was dubious, but I did the best I could to convince her.\"\n\nZinovy hadn't thought about how he must have looked to the girl as they faced each other in the clearing. He ran his hand over his hair. The shaggy mane hadn't seen a comb in at least a week, and it had been even longer since he'd shaved. The way he'd landed on her probably didn't help much, either. Well, he could do nothing about that. It didn't matter anyway, as long as they got what they needed from her through Grace.\n\nGrace left to find Berry, and Zinovy turned his attention to a more pressing need. Standing against a tree with his back to the main camp, he suddenly became aware that he was being watched. Two bright eyes peered up at him from behind a large fern a few feet to his right. The eyes twinkled. Zinovy blinked in surprise and the eyes were gone, but not before he had recognized the small round face they belonged to. The tyke obviously did not share his guardian's aversion to big men with stubble on their faces and unkempt hair. That could be a good thing, Zinovy reflected. They might well need this little ace-in-the-hole.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy woke the next morning with an uneasy gut. He ignored the queasiness, but a nagging fear played around the edge of his mind as he went about his morning chores. By noon his insides churned, but in the late afternoon the symptoms subsided. He said nothing to the others.\n\nGrace talked to Berry about contacting the parents of the children, but it was early evening before he could connect with the underground base. Something had gone wrong with the radio. Glaston worked all day on the problem. Finally, after replacing some chips inside the receiver and some more in the main console unit, he made the connection and Berry called Anderson to tell him about the new arrivals.\n\nThe parents were underground, and overjoyed to discover their children were alive. They'd been grieving since the event, wondering how the end had been for their children, filled with regret that at least one of them hadn't been home that day. Grace brought the children to the command center and Glaston patched them through for a quick conversation.\n\nThe children burst into tears at the sound of their mother's voice. Zinovy watched from afar, uneasily. When the storm abated, he wandered back to camp and listened as Berry discussed arrangements with Anderson.\n\n\"There's no way we can get them down to you,\" he said. \"And your people can't come up here either without contaminating your system. I'm not sure what we can do.\" Berry rubbed his forehead. Zinovy frowned. They couldn't afford to worry about the parents, and they certainly couldn't afford to feed any more people aboveground.\n\nThe two commanders ended their discussion and four extra mouths were added to the chow line, shortening the number of days left to them all. But things were not as settled underground. One mother hen would not quit squawking until she had her baby chicks under her wing once again. Her pleading would keep the harried base commander awake all night trying to figure out a way to reunite the brood.\n\n* * *\n\nThe next morning Zinovy ran into the little boy and the girl again. He'd gone to the cache to retrieve some soil testing instruments Carter wanted. On his way back, down the faint path they'd worn through the trees, he saw the boy coming toward him. At ten feet apart, they stopped and eyed each other, the boy seeming completely at ease. Zinovy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He couldn't remember the last time he'd made conversation with a child. He wasn't sure how to begin.\n\nThe boy solved the problem by speaking first. There would apparently be no preliminaries. \"What's your name?\" he began.\n\n\"Zinovy. What's yours?\" So far so good.\n\n\"Caleb,\" the child said, with a lilting accent on the last syllable. Then he waited. The ball was obviously in Zinovy's court.\n\n\"How old are you?\"\n\n\"I'm five,\" Caleb said, holding up his left hand, fingers splayed. \"Do you want to see my birthday present?\"\n\nHe held up a book in the other hand, a paperback with fine print, not a book for a five-year-old. Did children read at five? Zinovy couldn't remember.\n\nCaleb solved the puzzle in his next breath, his last for at least five sentences. \"Sara reads some in it to us every day. It's about some children who are lost in the forest just like we got lost only we weren't lost for very long. Sara helped us find out where we were and the bright one helped too only Sara couldn't see him, but I told her. He said everything would be all right and we didn't have to be afraid.\"\n\nZinovy relaxed somewhat. The child was obviously capable of holding up both ends of the conversation.\n\nThe boy went on: \"He said not to worry about my mommy and daddy too and I didn't need to feel sad. That made me feel better because I miss my mommy and daddy lots.\"\n\nAt this the child's face darkened, a cloud momentarily covering the sun. Zinovy was afraid the boy was going to cry, but he brightened and pointed to a robin tugging at a berry on a nearby tree. \"Look at that. The berry is stronger than the robin. Isn't that funny? The robin is bigger, but the berry is stronger.\"\n\nHe went on. \"I can tell it's a robin because it has red on its tummy. Sara showed me how to tell if it's a robin. Sara's nice. She takes good care of us and I love her. Don't you?\"\n\nZinovy wasn't sure how to respond to that one. He was pretty sure the boy expected a \"yes\" or \"no\" answer and either one could complicate things. He decided to evade the direct question and agree with the implication. \"I am sure she's nice, if she takes good care of you.\"\n\nZinovy was beginning to be uncomfortable again. He looked down the trail past the child and, with relief, saw the girl heading toward them. The boy followed Zinovy's gaze and saw her as well. He turned and bounded away, jabbering and waving his book in the air. Zinovy caught up to them as she was saying, \"You can't run away like that. I need to know where you are all the time. Don't do that again, okay.\" Caleb nodded vigorously, then ran ahead toward the compound.\n\nZinovy sensed that the girl wanted to run too. Instead, she strode briskly along, and he fell into step beside her. Now might be a good time to get more information. He opened with an innocuous remark. \"The boy seems to have taken a liking to me.\"\n\nShe ducked her head, tilted it slightly, and looked up into his face. Then she looked down. \"You resemble his father,\" she said.\n\n\"What happened to his father?\"\n\nThe girl studied the delicate fiddleheads along the edge of the path for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and spoke.\n\n\"Vandals attacked our compound. The power must have gone out or something and they came over the fence. They killed the guards first, then they started on the rest of us.\"\n\nThe girl paused, blinking several times. He waited patiently and eventually she continued. \"I was working in the gardens. The three children were with me. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew it wasn't good. I heard screaming. I hid the children in the cornfield and crawled through the stalks to see what was happening. The vandals were running from house to house. I saw them chasing a woman—it was Caleb's mother. They caught her—two of them—and they . . . \"\n\nShe stopped there, breathing hard. Zinovy read fear in her face—fear and a deep anger. Finally she finished the story: \"Caleb's father was killed trying to save his wife.\" She pursed her lips and frowned.\n\nZinovy studied the girl's face in the glimmering light, watching his opportunity to learn more from her disintegrate. He tried one more approach: \"You were away from the protectorate when the holocaust happened.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"How did you survive? Were you underground at the time?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"We were on top.\"\n\nHis frustration erupted. \"Tell me the truth!\"\n\nShe straightened and turned to look at him. The anger in her eyes was scorching. \"I don't tell lies,\" she said.\n\n\"But it's impossible!\"\n\n\"Is there anything around us that's not impossible?\" She spit the words at him and marched off, leaving the question hanging in the iridescent air between them. Zinovy raised his eyebrows and watched as her stiff back disappeared down the trail. Then he followed at a slower pace.\n\n\"Archie wants to see you,\" Emery said when Zinovy returned to camp. \"He's over at the shuttle.\"\n\nZinovy changed course and walked toward the landing site, kicking aside an empty container in his path. In spite of Berry's penchant for order, the compound was accumulating clutter. Even the Gaia looked disheveled. He climbed the ladder into the boot room.\n\n\"Zinovy, come here,\" Berry said, beckoning him to follow as he moved back through the ship. \"That deterioration in the communications console—it's not the only place it's happened.\"\n\nHe stopped before a stack of computer software housed in plastic containers now riddled with decay. The fiber optic recording material inside had melted into a gray-green puddle that leaked onto the floor at their feet. Even the floor showed signs of deterioration.\n\n\"What's strange is that it's the most recent technology that's going. The only items intact are made of metal or wood or glass. Look here. The data transfer equipment is almost gone, and it's made of the same silicon that's in the communications equipment and the EVARM units.\"\n\nIt was a serious concern. They could do without the data transfer equipment, but they needed the other devices. Zinovy nursed the rough forest on his chin. \"It has to be the radiation. But we should notice this kind of damage first in living tissue, not synthetics.\" He thought a minute. \"Do you think there's a connection between this and the decay of other things? The vomit and the bodies?\"\n\n\"But they were organic. So are we, and we're still okay. It doesn't make sense—any of it.\" Berry threw up his hands and headed for the door. \"In any case, we have to get the EVARM unit into a metal container before this deterioration gets any worse.\"\n\nBerry went off to comb the ship for a metal box and Zinovy left on his own errand, determined to find more answers to the survival puzzle. Chang had spent quite a lot of time with the girl. She must know something more by now. He found the data specialist in the supply storage area looking for a fresh blanket.\n\n\"Chang—\" he began, surveying the odd assortment of supplies she was sifting through.\n\nShe interrupted: \"The name is Grace.\" He looked down into friendly eyes. Dark circles had begun to shade those eyes. The observation flitted through his mind as she continued. \"Please call me Grace. The mission is over.\" She paused and looked away. \"Maybe everything's over,\" she said with a sigh. \"I'd feel better if we could go by first names.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" The others had been on a first-name basis for some time, and they'd always called him by his given name. It hadn't occurred to him to do the same, but if she preferred . . . . \"Grace,\" he said, the name feeling awkward on his tongue, \"Have you learned anything new from the girl?\"\n\n\"Not much. Her name is Sara. She's nineteen.\"\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows. He hadn't thought she was that old.\n\n\"She has no family. Her mother was mentally incompetent, and raped when she was seventeen. The two of them grew up together as far as I can tell, more like sisters than mother and daughter. A guardian took care of them both.\" Grace paused and put a hand to her mouth.\n\nZinovy considered. The girl had an odd background. \"Did she have other family?\"\n\n\"She had grandparents, who at some point immigrated to Israel. They conducted their affairs in the States through an attorney.\"\n\nGrace explained what she knew, piecing together the story from bits of information the girl had shared over the last couple of days. Sara and her mother had lived with the guardian on a large estate owned by the grandparents in a remote area about fifteen miles south of the Canaveral site near Patrick Air Force base.\n\n\"It was the anarchy. By the time Sara was born, things were out of hand, so the grandparents built a protectorate. They bought up a huge amount of land nearby. Then they subdivided and built homes. Their neighbors moved in. They put high fences around the whole complex, hired guards, and contributed to a communal garden and other basic services.\" Grace turned her head aside and coughed. Then she went on.\n\n\"When Sara's mother died—about three years ago, I think it was—Sara chose to stay in the protectorate. Apparently she did some babysitting and worked in the garden. I got the feeling she was content to cloister herself that way.\"\n\nGrace looked up into his face. \"You need to be careful with her Zinovy. She has an extreme fear of males, almost a phobia. I'm not sure why. Maybe the guardian went overboard in warning her to be careful. Not that I blame him. With those deep blue eyes and that raven hair she would definitely attract male attention.\"\n\nZinovy hadn't noticed. All he'd seen was the fear in the girl's eyes. And her hair—he supposed it would be attractive if it weren't chopped off and sticking out all over.\n\nGrace was talking again. \"I'm sure her fear has been compounded by all she's been through the last while. She's pretty much a basket case. It will take a lot of time for her to relax.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. They didn't have a lot of time. She would undoubtedly die with her fears. But he took note of Chang's admonition. \"I'll talk to Berry. He should speak to the crew, set some boundaries.\"\n\nHe thanked Grace, remembering to use her given name, and turned to go. A stack of fuel cells had toppled into the path. As he leaned over to adjust the pile, he noticed a small piece of paper on the ground. He picked it up and glanced at the front. It was a sales receipt from a Circle K in the Cape, dated a couple of weeks before the nuclear event, probably dropped from the pocket of one of the boys. Absently, he turned it over. There was writing on the back. He squinted to read the small print—two initials and a phone number. The initials were his and the phone number was Anton's personal cell.\n\nCHAPTER EIGHT\n\nA shiver ran up Zinovy's spine as the significance of the message on the receipt registered. Someone here worked for Anton. Someone who was at Canaveral while Zinovy and his colleagues orbited above the earth. One of the young men so eager to get aboveground. But why? Surely not an assassin. The kids were too young for that kind of assignment. Someone to report back to Anton when the crew landed? One last confirmation of his death so the file could be closed. Or was it to be another attempt, if by some chance Anton's first plan failed?\n\nZinovy frowned. Which of his charges was it? When had the boy last contacted Anton? Had he been in touch since the shuttle landing?\n\nThe questions stopped there, interrupted by the sound of his own name resounding through the trees. He stuffed the paper in his shirt pocket and turned to go.\n\nConrad met him as he came into the clearing. \"There you are. Archie's looking for you.\"\n\n\"Is he at the command post?\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\nEveryone but Carter seemed to have received Berry's announcement of Zinovy's promotion enthusiastically. Carter hadn't made an issue of it, but he went out of his way to avoid taking orders from Zinovy. Berry was determined to reinforce the authority he'd vested in his second, however, so Zinovy was not surprised when, once again, he was summoned to a conference with Carter and Berry.\n\nConrad headed back with him, obviously curious, but Berry sent him off on another errand and drew Zinovy into a close huddle with Carter who stood by, shifting from one foot to the other.\n\n\"Charles has some news,\" Berry began without preamble. \"Tell him, Charles.\"\n\n\"I was out collecting specimens and I ran into someone,\" Carter began, jerking his thumb toward the forest behind them. \"I was stooped over inspecting a fern and when I stood up this guy was there, looking at me.\"\n\n\"So more people are out there,\" Zinovy mused. \"Did he say where he came from or if there were others? Could he have been from the same place as the girl?\"\n\n\"I don't know, but I had the weird sense he knew who we were, as if he'd been watching us. It gave me the creeps.\"\n\n\"Tell him what the man told you,\" Berry said.\n\n\"He said we couldn't stay here.\"\n\nZinovy glanced at Berry, then looked back at Carter. \"Was he threatening us?\"\n\n\"I don't think so. It was more like a warning.\"\n\n\"What were his exact words?\" Berry asked.\n\n\"I told you. He said, 'You must move on.' That's it.\"\n\n\"This is important information. Why didn't you bring the man directly to Berry?\" Zinovy's tone suggested an accusation.\n\n\"Because I didn't have the chance,\" Carter retorted, glaring up into Zinovy's face. \"He said that one thing and then he left.\"\n\n\"Where'd he go?\" Berry asked.\n\nCarter shrugged. \"I don't know. I looked around for you guys and when I looked back, he'd gone.\"\n\nZinovy studied Carter's face. He looked lucid enough, but something was wrong with his story. The man couldn't have come and gone so quickly.\n\nCarter glared back, obviously aware of Zinovy's skepticism. Finally he straightened. \"I've told you. You don't have to believe me.\" He shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off.\n\nZinovy and Berry watched him go. \"Another item to add to our agenda for tomorrow's meeting I guess,\" Berry said.\n\n\"We have no idea how reliable this information is. It's possible Charles is hallucinating. This atmosphere may be playing tricks with his mind.\" Even as he spoke Zinovy remembered his own 'hallucination' in the shuttle. That vision had proved real. He had no reason to disbelieve Carter's.\n\n\"Well, we need to tell the others in any case. If this is for real, someone else may run into him and we can find out more about this warning business, or threat—whatever it is.\" Berry went on, \"We need to talk about the news from the underground base as well. Those parents must have been pretty insistent if Anderson's gone to the trouble of building a second air-lock to let them out.\"\n\nThat night, as he went to bed, Zinovy found a hole in the exercise pants he'd been wearing since he'd landed. No, wait, there were more. Pulling the pants off, he discovered five or six small holes and several pinpricks that appeared on their way to becoming larger. They looked like burn marks, as if he'd sprinkled acid on the pants, but he'd never worked with acid in the lab. The hair on the back of Zinovy's neck stood on end as he imagined the pinpricks touching his skin.\n\nHe wondered what he would do when these pants wore out. He only had one other pair—some blue jeans he'd bought in the U.S. years ago as a concession to the official cultural exchange policy. He didn't like them. Denim was not his style. But at least they weren't synthetic.\n\nHe shrugged. Clothes were the least of his concerns. He checked to see that the receipt was safe in his shirt pocket, tucked the pants into his kit bag, noting with some relief that his boxers were still in good shape, and crawled into his bedroll.\n\nSleep didn't come until he'd made plans to deal with his most recent problem. He needed to find out who had bought a diet Coke and two candy bars at the Circle K in Cape Canaveral, and then scribbled that cryptic message on the back of the receipt.\n\n* * *\n\nThe next scribbled message he saw was in the log book: Day 18: Today the animals appeared.\n\nGrace's log entry was unusually short, even though much had happened on that day. The boy, Caleb, was the first to find an animal. He came running through the camp toward Zinovy holding a squirming rabbit struggling to gain a foothold on his shirt with its hind legs.\n\n\"Caleb, put him down. He'll bite you.\"\n\n\"No he won't. He's my friend.\" The boy set the rabbit on the ground at Zinovy's feet where it sat for a moment, sniffed the ground in various places, then hopped off toward the edge of the compound.\n\n\"See? He likes me.\"\n\n\"No, he doesn't. Wild animals don't like people and they're dangerous if you try to touch them.\" Then, as an afterthought, \"Where did you find him?\"\n\nThe boy pointed back to the edge of the clearing where Ruben, Simon and Mike were emerging with excited smiles. \"Hey,\" Ruben yelled. \"We found some deer. Come look, quick.\"\n\nZinovy trotted over and stood, shaking his head in disbelief. The forest surrounding the clearing was alive with animals, as if the ground had opened up and birthed them full-grown. The larger species—Ruben's \"deer\"—grazed contentedly, moving slowly away whenever one of the boys tried to approach. Zinovy looked around. A plump white rabbit rooted around the base of the tree beside him, and a chipmunk scampered up the trunk.\n\nBerry moved to Zinovy's side. \"Look,\" he said quietly. \"Over there next to those bushes.\" He pointed toward two graceful animals dipping their heads rhythmically to the cadence of their chewing. They glistened with radiation, flashes of light arcing between the antlers of the tall male.\n\n\"Those aren't deer,\" Zinovy said. \"They're some kind of antelope.\"\n\n\"I know. I'm not sure what species, are you?\"\n\nZinovy shook his head. \"It's an exotic one. Looks African.\"\n\n\"See the radiation?\" Berry said. \"They're full of it.\"\n\nThey watched a while, then Zinovy wondered aloud. \"How do they survive? It's a most remarkable thing.\"\n\n\"That's the second question,\" Berry pointed out. \"The first question is how did they survive the blast? They certainly weren't underground when it happened.\"\n\n\"And the next question is, where do they get water? They must drink something.\"\n\nBerry nodded. \"We've got this meeting, then I want you to assign some of your crew to observe—follow the antelope—see where they're finding water. It's got to be polluted, but I'd like to know the source.\"\n\nChatter about the animals dominated the crew's breakfast conversation. It was a good diversion. No one noticed the questionable condition of the watered-down eggs or the absence of any kind of fruit. They ate distractedly, cleaned up the dishes, then gathered for the morning's briefing.\n\nEveryone was there. Even the girl hovered on the edge of the gathering, children in tow, staying close to Grace and in the background. Grace still hadn't gotten the information they needed from the evasive young woman. Zinovy studied the girl covertly. She looked as if she would prefer to be invisible.\n\nBerry explained the purpose of the meeting. \"We have three items on the agenda this morning,\" he said. \"We'll begin with the most immediate one.\" He peeked around Grace at the girl. \"Could you bring the children forward please?\" His voice was low and gentle.\n\nAfter a pause, Sara nudged the children forward and then followed more slowly herself. Berry took the hands of the two older ones and said, \"I have some good news: your parents are coming to get you.\"\n\nThe children looked at him, eyes wide, then up at Sara. She smiled and nodded, relief shining on her face. The crew stood by as Sara and the children hugged each other.\n\nThen Caleb extracted himself from the others and grasped the commander's sleeve, looking up into his smiling eyes. \"Are my mommy and daddy coming too?\" he asked.\n\nBerry frowned. \"I'm sorry, little one,\" he said. \"Your mommy and daddy aren't here.\"\n\nThe boy's face crumpled and he groaned softly. Then he stood erect, crossed his arms and stomped his foot. \"That's not fair,\" he said. \"It's not fair that they get their mommy and daddy and I don't get mine.\"\n\nSara was with him in an instant, gently consoling, leading him away, his howls piercing the brilliant air as he went. Zinovy watched the forlorn little fellow go and something about the slump of the small, heaving shoulders tugged at his chest. When he turned his attention back to the meeting Carter was complaining again.\n\n\"Look. This is really going to cut into our food supply. We only have stores for a few more days as it is. And the water too—we didn't plan for this. We're talking about four more mouths to feed. That's even if the parents bring up their own food supplies. I assume they're going to do that,\" he said, looking at Berry through narrowed eyes.\n\nZinovy, his mind still half-attentive to the children at the back, noticed Sara's head come up. She gazed at Carter keenly.\n\nCarter went on, \"I hope you're going to ask for stores for the children while you're at it. The others should at least contribute to that.\"\n\nBerry shifted uneasily. \"We've already asked for a lot, and the base wasn't counting on the extra mouths to feed either.\" Zinovy watched Carter's face harden as Berry hesitated—heard him swear under his breath.\n\nA lively debate followed. The crew was obviously getting tired of Carter's whining. They wrangled with him over his complaints until finally he shut up, finding it hard to defend a position that would deny food and water to children.\n\nDiscussion moved on to plans for the coming of the parents and Zinovy mentally re-calculated their survival time. Their days were numbered and the numbers were decreasing. He looked up at the place where the girl had been, but she was gone.\n\nBerry went on to other issues. Carter was rescued from the worst of the others' condemnation—elevated to celebrity status, even—by his central role in the drama of the next item on the agenda.\n\n\"We have another new development,\" Berry said. \"We've discovered we're not alone in the area, and it's not just the animals.\" Berry paused. \"Charles has met someone.\"\n\nThe group erupted into questions as Carter told his story. \"Where did he come from?\" \"Where'd he go?\" \"Was he healthy?\" \"Why did he come to Charles?\" \"Does that mean there are lots of other people alive?\" \"Why did he say we shouldn't stay here?\"\n\nFinally Berry reigned them all in. \"We can't make a decision about going anywhere yet. We need more information. But I wanted you to be prepared in case you meet this person.\" The buzz continued. \"I repeat,\" Berry said. \"Nothing's happening right now. Just keep your eyes and ears open. If he approaches any of you, bring him to me immediately.\"\n\nWith difficulty, Berry moved the discussion from the sensational to the mundane. Raheem gave an inventory update. Grace announced adjustments to the chore roster. Carter reported on the latest radiation readings, which had not dropped since the equipment had been set up. Beautiful as it was, the air they breathed still sparkled with danger. No one said anything about health problems, and Berry didn't ask.\n\nThe meeting ended and the crew drifted away, continuing small group discussions of current events. Zinovy snagged Simon and Ruben before they left and gave them the animal tracking assignment. \"Follow them. See where they drink, and come back and report.\" The boys took off. Zinovy called after them: \"Don't get lost. Make sure you know how to get back.\"\n\nSimon held up a small silver instrument. \"We won't. We have compasses.\"\n\nZinovy watched them disappear into the trees, then turned and walked toward the command center, intent on pursuing his own investigations. He needed to interview Sara directly about her survival, even if it meant he had to be more forceful with her. He understood her emotional frailty, but the well-being of the whole group must take precedence. He also wanted to get his hands on the logbook.\n\nBut both Sara and Grace were gone.\n\n\"Graham, have you seen Grace?\" Zinovy asked as he passed through the compound.\n\n\"Yeah. I think she went to her room.\"\n\nZinovy walked to the shelter and knocked on the doorpost. Grace responded with what sounded like a groan. He entered to find her shivering on her pallet, her face pale and moist. She smiled up at him—a ghost of a smile that accentuated her hollow cheeks and the dark circles that made half moons under her eyes.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"I haven't been feeling well lately.\"\n\nZinovy dropped to his knees beside her, shocked to see the state she was in.\n\n\"I'm so tired of living,\" she said, her voice a whisper. \"It's been so hard to go on all this time. I miss my family. Now that they're gone I don't have any reason to exist. I want to go too.\" She closed her eyes and tears streamed down her cheeks. He reached out a tentative finger and caught one before it reached her chin. Then he picked up a corner of her blanket and dabbed at the rest.\n\n\"Don't cry.\" It sounded like a command; he wasn't used to begging. He wanted to give her some reassurance, tell her things weren't that bad.\n\nBut he couldn't. They were that bad.\n\nShe cried silently for a while. He wiped away the tears as they fell, willing them to end. Finally she pulled herself together, opened her eyes and sniffed. \"Please don't tell the others. I'll keep taking the medicine. It helps. But no one needs to know until . . . \"\n\n\"I have to tell Archie,\" he said. \"We have to be able to care for you.\"\n\nIn the end he left her, stopping on the way out, his gaze arrested by the faces of a man and three small boys in the row of photos lined up on the inside of the doorpost. Then he went with lagging steps to tell Archie it had finally begun in earnest.\n\nHe came back with pain medicine and something to settle her stomach. It wasn't until he was leaving that he remembered why he'd come in the first place. He turned. \"Grace, where's the logbook?\" She waved toward a corner of her room. The book and a stubby pencil sat on top of her pack. He collected both and went off to find the girl.\n\nStrange she wasn't around; it was lunchtime, and the children would be getting hungry. He headed toward their sleeping area. After the first night they'd moved out of Grace's quarters, but they'd stayed close, bedding down in a small grove of trees just outside the compound.\n\nHe approached the grove and peeked in. The two older children were sleeping, curled up together, breathing softly. There was no sign of the girl or the boy, Caleb. Even their packs were gone. He turned back to the compound, asking those he met if anyone had seen them. None had.\n\nA sense of foreboding swept over him, like a dark shadow moving through the bright afternoon air. He went to tell Berry, and found him sitting at the command console talking to Carter.\n\n\"Sara and Caleb are gone. They've packed up and left.\"\n\nArchie frowned. \"Not a smart move on the girl's part. They could die out there.\"\n\nZinovy glared at Carter. \"You know why they left, don't you?\"\n\nThe fat American leaned against a tree, cleaning his nails with a twig he'd pulled from one of the branches. He glanced up. \"What are you looking at me for?\"\n\n\"Because you're the one who drove them away. Did you see the look on her face while you were whining about food supplies and how you didn't want to feed extra mouths? She got the message. She's gone because of your sniveling.\"\n\nCarter straightened and drew his shoulders back. His characteristic frown deepened, but Zinovy went on: \"If those two children die you are to blame. You will have killed them by your stupid, selfish, attitude.\"\n\nCarter's speed amazed Zinovy. In two seconds he'd crossed the space between them and buried his head squarely in Zinovy's midriff. The force of the charge knocked him off his feet. Instinctively, he dropped the logbook and reached for Carter's throat. His fingers dug in at the base of the flabby neck, but just before the snap, another pair of hands broke his grip, and Eric Glaston pulled him away.\n\nZinovy came to his senses, still angry, but in control. Carter sat back against the tree, nursing the bruises on his throat, breathing deeply. His face remained contorted, but the lines, as they softened, reflected more anguish than rage. A wave of something almost like pity washed over Zinovy. It was good Glaston had intervened. No need to kill the little _zasranec_. He was a nuisance, yes, but not a danger.\n\nZinovy picked up the logbook and got to his feet. Glaston stood between the two men. Archie watched from the sidelines. \"You're lucky,\" Zinovy said. \"Glaston saved your life.\" Then he turned and walked away.\n\nThe loss of the girl was a setback. They badly needed more information about how she'd survived. Then he remembered. The girl wasn't their only source of information. Two of the children were still around. He would interview them as soon as they woke from their nap. He tucked the logbook under his arm and headed for the galley.\n\n* * *\n\nLunch was over and the children hadn't appeared. Zinovy salvaged some food and went to find them. They were sitting up rubbing their eyes when he entered the grove. He handed each a cracker sandwich and sat down to watch them eat. They watched him in return, munching quietly. When they were almost finished Zinovy spoke. They nodded at his greeting, but said nothing.\n\n\"You had a long journey, coming here, didn't you?\" he began.\n\nAgain they nodded. He waited for one of them to speak, but nothing came. \"You must have had lots of adventures.\" No response.\n\nHe began to revise his initial assessment of communication with children. These two were certainly not prepared to hold up either end of a conversation. With an effort he controlled his impatience and continued, trying the direct approach again.\n\n\"What did you eat when you were out there all alone in the forest?\" he asked, looking first at the girl. She was studying the crumbs that had fallen on her lap, picking them up, one by one, and putting them in her mouth, ignoring him.\n\nHe turned to the boy. \"Can you tell me?\" The boy looked at him for a long moment. Zinovy almost jumped when he finally spoke.\n\n\"We ate vegetables,\" he said.\n\nZinovy remembered the girl had been working in the garden when they'd run away. She must have taken gleanings with her. But there couldn't have been many.\n\n\"And what happened when you ran out of vegetables?\"\n\n\"We didn't run out.\"\n\nZinovy pondered. They'd been alone in the wilderness for over two weeks. She couldn't have carried enough to last the whole time. Maybe children didn't eat much. It could have been enough if they'd rationed. But what would they have done about water? She'd been carrying a canteen when he found her, but it had to have been empty by that time.\n\n\"What did you drink?\" he pressed on, frowning slightly. This was like pulling teeth.\n\nThe girl looked at him now. Her mouth puckered and she frowned back. \"Don't talk to my brother that way.\"\n\nZinovy was nonplussed. She couldn't have been much older than seven and she'd been through a lot, but he was getting to the end of his patience. He breathed an exasperated sigh and turned once again to the boy, speaking slowly and distinctly. \"What did you drink, please?\"\n\n\"We drank mostly juice from the vegetables. Some water, but mostly the juice. Sara got it out for us.\" The boy shut his mouth and sat back, as if he'd exhausted the topic.\n\nZinovy's frown deepened. \"But you couldn't get enough moisture from the vegetables. You'd need much more.\"\n\nHis stern face was not intended as a rebuke, but the children apparently misunderstood. Zinovy watched as the girl's face puckered. She shut her eyes and opened her mouth. There were going to be tears. He stood abruptly and turned to go, watching out of the corner of his eye as the boy wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her close.\n\nThis was a job for Grace. He wished she were well. He had accomplished nothing.\n\nZinovy's wasn't the only unsuccessful mission of the day.\n\n\"We looked all around but we didn't see the deer anywhere,\" Ruben said. \"The rodents are still here, but the others aren't.\"\n\n\"You're sure?\"\n\nBoth boys nodded vigorously. Zinovy dismissed them and went to report to Archie, massaging the tight muscles at the back of his neck. This was going to be one of those days. It was a good thing the parents were coming.\n\n* * *\n\nThe parents arrived the morning of the crew's nineteenth day down. The crew below ground had managed to construct a second evacuation chamber out of an empty water tank from the emergency rations room. They'd cut an opening in one side, put the two escapees in, turned it around so that the hole was over the inner hatch opening, and welded it in place. It was an ingenious idea that could have been a disaster. The temperature in the unit soared with the welding, and the couple barely escaped being boiled in their own juices. They burst out of the hatch, oblivious, at first, to the glittering destruction in the air they sucked into their seared lungs.\n\nThe oblivion continued through their reunion, the fear of radiation poisoning lost in the joy of being with their children again. Relief radiated from behind Mark Mueller's glasses, softening a ring of more serious creases around his eyes. His wife, Michelle, clutched the children tightly, tears in her eyes, anxiety still resting on her brow.\n\nThe couple were in their early thirties, both NASA engineers, who had worked hard to support their young family, leaving the children with Sara while they were at work. Zinovy was relieved to see them. With Sara gone and Grace out of commission, the children had become a worrisome concern. Everyone assumed that since he'd found them they were his responsibility. He was more than happy to give up his nursemaid duties.\n\nThe Muellers brought with them more food and water and a couple of other items Archie had decided they needed. One was a tissue sampler—a piece of medical equipment that measured the saturation of radiation in skin samples. Carter confiscated the new toy and immediately set up a lab near the command center.\n\nZinovy felt even better when he saw Grace coming through the trees that afternoon, looking more like her old self. She smiled at him as she passed and he returned the look. She was not moving fast, but she was mobile.\n\nCarter waylaid her as she moved past his tissue sampling site. He didn't know she'd been sick, but he was looking for specimens, so he took a sample from her arm and added it to his growing collection.\n\nNo one spoke of the fight between Zinovy and Carter over Sara's leaving. Glaston and Archie were the only witnesses and they had obviously put it behind them. Carter and Zinovy moved warily back into a working relationship, Zinovy's curiosity about the radiation problem overcoming his annoyance. He purposed to check in with the botanist as soon as the test results were ready. He'd donated a piece of tissue himself, but the results from Grace's sample interested him more.\n\nGrace appeared to function normally. She went to welcome the newcomers, smiling at their joy, sharing in their wonder at the miraculous survival and reunion. \"We should have a party,\" she said.\n\nThe idea caught on with everyone. Archie gave his approval, and Grace and Michelle began to plan. It was good there were women about, Zinovy thought. They added civility to the crew.\n\nOne of the women was missing, however.\n\n\"Where's Sara?\" Mark asked when things settled down. \"I thought she was here with Caleb.\"\n\n\"Sara left with Caleb the day before you came,\" Grace said. \"We're not sure where they are.\" She frowned. \"She's a pretty independent girl. We couldn't do much to stop her.\"\n\n\"I understand.\" Mark's look was wry. \"No one's ever been able to tell Sara what to do. There are reasons for her independence, but it's not always a good thing.\"\n\n\"You've known her quite a while, then?\" Grace asked.\n\nMark smiled. \"I remember pacing outside the delivery room door the night she was born.\"\n\nMichelle added, \"Sara's like family to us. We're so glad she was with them when all this happened.\" Her face clouded, then cleared again. \"She'll be okay, I'm sure. She can take care of herself.\" Grace glanced at Zinovy and he shrugged. Then she smiled at Michelle. \"Well, let's get this party organized.\"\n\n* * *\n\nMorning came. The camp stirred to life early. After breakfast, while the others made final preparations for the party, Archie and Zinovy sat around the command center discussing the problem of the holes.\n\nMore had appeared, in the communications console, in the skin of the ship, in the containers they used to store fuel cells and other commodities, and in their clothes. Zinovy studied his comrade who sat at the console, leaning on the tabletop now pockmarked with decay.\n\n\"Look here,\" he said, reaching over. \"You've got a hole in your armpit, too.\"\n\nArchie raised his arm, screwed his neck around to look, and swore. \"Why is it so selective? My pants are fine, but my shirt's falling apart.\"\n\n\"And with me it's the opposite. This pair of slacks is made of the latest synthetic material. Should have lasted forever. Yet the blue jeans are unaffected, and they were out on my bunk in the cabin for days, fully exposed to the atmosphere.\"\n\n\"I don't know what's going on,\" Archie said. \"And I'm getting tired of saying that.\" They were silent for a moment, thinking. Then Archie went on. \"We're losing some things we need. The communications system is going. I'm not sure how much longer Eric will be able to keep it mended. I've told Anderson we may cut out any time.\" Archie sighed and pulled on his ear. \"I suppose we can handle that. We've said everything we need to.\"\n\n\"What else might go?\" Zinovy mused. \"What else that we need?\"\n\n\"Well, we have the food. That's not being affected, though some of the containers have begun to wear.\"\n\nArchie was thinking out loud. Zinovy listened as he studied the iridescent waves of light flickering over the nose of the shuttle. The skin of the ship was riddled with holes as well. Everything man-made—\n\nThen Berry's last words registered. Zinovy looked over at him, saw awareness dawn in his eyes.\n\nInstantly, the two were on their feet and sprinting toward the shuttle. They scrambled up the ladder into the cabin and found chaos. Water spouted from dozens of holes that had worn through plastic containers. Already the water level was far down in most of the vessels. Streams gushed from the bottom sections, pouring onto the floor, draining away into the fraying carpet.\n\nZinovy whipped around, looking for a container that hadn't been affected. Eight or nine empty metal canisters were still intact. He grabbed the nearest water jug and dumped what was left into one of the metal canisters. The rest of the containers went about their leaky business, spewing water everywhere. The two of them worked feverishly, recapturing as much of the remnants as they could. When they'd finished, they stopped and looked around.\n\nIt wasn't just the water. Their food supplies had spilled out as well, pouring onto the counters and the floor, forming mushy piles of potatoes, applesauce and diced beef, soaking up the water that was their lifeblood.\n\nThey assessed the damage. Much of the food had been recaptured, but over half of the water was gone. \"We've got about a week's supply left,\" Archie estimated. He sighed and shook his head. \"We'd better go tell the others.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThe party mood was over. That evening Carter took Graham and Raheem to the ship to see what they could find for dinner. After a quiet consultation, they salvaged some of the mess from the floor of the cabin, plopped it into their remaining food containers, and carried it out to the crew. The result was not appealing, and supper was unidentifiable, but no one seemed to care.\n\nNothing identifiable had been salvaged from the tissue testing either. After supper, Carter called Archie and Zinovy aside. \"There's definite evidence of radiation—strong doses in everyone's tissue, pretty much equal for us all,\" he told them. \"But the tissue doesn't seem to be damaged, and that's the puzzling part. With radiation this intense there should be no tissue left at all.\" He frowned up at them. \"We should all be dead.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't surprised at Carter's conclusion, but he was surprised at the results. \"You're sure levels of radiation are the same for all of us?\"\n\n\"Pretty much. Yours is a little higher, but the difference is not statistically significant.\"\n\nAfter Charles left, Zinovy discussed the test results with Archie. \"Grace's levels aren't any higher, and yet she's the only sick one. It doesn't make sense. Why aren't the rest of us sick too?\"\n\nArchie shook his head. \"At least she's up and around. Maybe she's on the mend.\" He stretched and yawned. \"Let's go to bed before we discover something else we need to worry about.\"\n\nZinovy crawled into his blanket and lay awake under the translucent sky, remembering his first breath of the radiant air around him. He'd expected that breath to be his last. Once again the end was in sight. But now it appeared that starvation, not radiation, would take their lives. He thought of Redmond and Rudzinski, lying peacefully in their graves, and felt a sudden pang of envy.\n\nCHAPTER NINE\n\nThe next day, late in the afternoon, the stranger reappeared. This time Carter brought him to the compound. Zinovy watched the introductions from across the clearing. When Archie glanced over and motioned to him, he walked to the command center, studying the newcomer as he approached.\n\n\"Zinovy, this is . . . \" Archie began, then paused.\n\n\"Elan,\" the man said. \"How do you do?\"\n\nJust Elan. No last name. No title. Curious.\n\nZinovy nodded at the greeting and continued his assessment. The man was unimpressive, shorter than Archie, pale blue eyes in an ordinary face, delicate features, with a touch of weakness around the corners of the mouth. But as the newcomer talked, Zinovy's curiosity shifted from the man to the information he was giving them. Not that he was giving them much. He seemed only interested in driving home their need to leave the clearing.\n\n\"Why do you say we should go?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"Because if you don't—if you stay here—you'll die.\"\n\nZinovy and Archie looked at each other, then Archie pressed on. \"What exactly is the danger? We need more specifics.\"\n\n\"I've told you enough,\" the stranger said with quiet finality. \"You may choose to ignore this warning if you like. It's up to you.\"\n\nBut Archie would not be rushed into a decision. \"We're a democratic community. If you want to stick around for a while, I'll discuss the idea with my colleagues and then we can call a meeting so you can address the whole group. Are you willing to do that?\"\n\nThe man studied their faces for a moment. Then he said, \"I've told you what you need to know. If you decide to go I'll give you more information, but not until then. You must be willing to begin the journey.\"\n\nArchie looked away and Zinovy followed his gaze. The rest of the crew were standing around the edge of the compound, watching the conversation from a distance.\n\n\"We could call them over right now and discuss this,\" Zinovy said. But when he turned back, the stranger was gone.\n\n\"Where is he?\" Zinovy said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Did you see him go?\"\n\nArchie looked around. \"No, I didn't. I was thinking about what he said.\"\n\n\"But he just disappeared, like that.\" Zinovy snapped his fingers. \"Are we seeing things that don't exist?\"\n\n\"That's ridiculous. We can't both be seeing the same non-existent person. We were just distracted when he left, that's all.\"\n\nZinovy surveyed the edge of the clearing behind them and shook his head. \"There is something not right,\" he said.\n\nArchie frowned. \"The question is, do we take his advice or not?\"\n\nZinovy said, \"I don't know.\" The statement was an echo of every answer to every question that had come up in the last three-and-a-half weeks. \"I don't know what's going on here.\" He walked away.\n\nArchie followed him. \"Wait, Zinovy. We need to discuss this rationally.\"\n\nZinovy stopped so abruptly Archie tromped on his heels. \"Look, Archie. I've said already—I don't know. You're on your own with this one.\"\n\nZinovy didn't like not knowing. Not having a plan of action. Not having a variety of workable options. And something about the stranger irked him. A deep unease crept up his spine and he walked away tingling with apprehension.\n\nThat evening Archie called another meeting. \"The man says we must move or we'll die. He will tell us nothing more until we decide whether or not to act upon this information. I feel we don't know enough to make such a decision, but I want to give you all a chance to have your say. What do you think?\"\n\nTheir responses were many and varied. \"What's the point of moving?\" Carter said. \"We've already scouted around. There's no better place.\"\n\n\"Why shouldn't we go?\" Emery countered. \"This place means nothing to us. What are we doing here anyway?\"\n\nThe question hung in the air. Zinovy heard its echo in his mind: What are we doing here? Just existing until we die, that's all. Frustration ate away at his insides, like the deadly radiation he inhaled with every breath.\n\n\"There might be a better place to be than this,\" Raheem said.\n\nA better place to die, you mean.\n\n\"I think we should go,\" said Graham.\n\nThe boys were young—eager for adventure. But a heavy weight had settled in Zinovy's gut. Again he was struck, more forcefully this time, with the fruitlessness of their existence, of all existence. Life was so fleeting, so meaningless. Even his desire to make Anton pay for the death of Nadya was not enough to make his life worthwhile.\n\nHe shook himself, willing the heavy thoughts to vanish. Reason returned, and with it the realization they would have to go. Staying would be like giving up, and it was not sensible to give up.\n\nHe was startled to hear the words he'd been thinking spoken aloud by Glaston.\n\n\"Graham is right,\" Glaston said. \"We have to go. Staying here . . . well, staying here is like staying in the shuttle.\"\n\n\"Huh?\" Carter was not following the logic.\n\nGlaston explained. \"We all wanted to stay in the shuttle when we landed, right? We were afraid to go out. Afraid we'd die a horrible death. But we didn't stay. Zinovy forced us out. And if he hadn't we'd all be dead now, don't you see?\"\n\n\"So, now we die out here,\" Carter said.\n\nGlaston grimaced, pulled one knee up and wrapped his arms around it. \"Yes. We probably will die out here. But we aren't dead yet. We're alive, at least for a while, and it hasn't been too bad. I mean, it could have been worse. Staying in would have been worse.\"\n\nThe group was silent. Eventually Glaston went on, \"What I'm saying is that we don't know what's out there. Maybe the radiation isn't everywhere. Maybe we could survive somewhere else.\" He looked around at the others, then added, \"The stranger was right. We're going to die for sure if we stay here, just like we would have died in the shuttle. I say, why not risk leaving here, like we risked leaving the shuttle?\"\n\nThe silence continued. Finally Archie spoke up. \"He's right. We left the shuttle because we had no oxygen. Now, we have no water. It's the same choice. No choice really. We're out of options. Again.\"\n\nZinovy glanced around the circle. The others were looking at Glaston. No one seemed inclined to argue.\n\n\"Are we agreed, then?\" Archie asked. \"Do we move?\"\n\nOne by one they nodded. The vote was unanimous. Even Carter shrugged his shoulders and ducked his head. So the decision was made. They would prepare, once more, to leave the environment they were beginning to feel at home in and embark on a journey to a destination they didn't know, with no knowledge of conditions along the way, with dwindling resources and no hope of acquiring more. Zinovy shook his head at the irrationality of it all.\n\nBut the irrational had become the most reasonable thing to do. They might as well be doing something, going somewhere, when the end came. Zinovy crawled to his feet and plodded off to bed. Maybe they'd be lucky and the end would come before morning.\n\n* * *\n\nTo his disappointment, the end didn't come before morning. Zinovy woke with a groggy head and went to join Archie in the lineup for breakfast, unprepared for his next encounter with Carter's strange new friend.\n\n\"Now that you've made your decision, I can give you more information.\"\n\nZinovy jumped. The sticky mush in his bowl splattered onto his shirt. He wiped it away and looked up to find the stranger standing beside them.\n\nThe man spoke, picking up the conversation where it had ended so abruptly the day before: \"Tell me what you want to know.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. Archie eyed the stranger for a moment, then said, \"Good morning. Glad you dropped by. How did you know we'd decided to go?\"\n\nElan smiled. \"I can't read your minds, if that's what you're thinking. I was at your meeting last night. I heard the discussion.\"\n\nZinovy knew who had been at that meeting. He'd counted them: five astronauts, eight Canaveral crew members, and the Mueller family. Seventeen people. That was all.\n\nElan glanced at Zinovy, then he turned to Archie. \"Would you like me to talk to your people?\"\n\nArchie looked at Zinovy. Zinovy shrugged. \"It can't hurt. If they meet him then at least we won't seem like the only crazy ones.\"\n\nArchie checked his watch. \"Okay. Go tell the others. We'll meet here at 09:30.\" He spoke to the stranger. \"If that's all right with you, sir.\"\n\nElan inclined his head.\n\nThe stranger wandered through the trees, not deliberately avoiding anyone, but keeping a polite distance. The others watched him as they went about their business, listlessly going through the motions, not accomplishing much, still sobered by the water trauma of the day before. At 09:30 everyone gathered near the command post and sat down.\n\n\"Carter's friend is here,\" Archie began. \"I've asked him to talk with you about our plans. He knows we've decided to follow his suggestion that we move on. Mr. Elan, would you care to speak now?\"\n\n\"It's 'Elan,'\" the stranger clarified. \"There's no 'Mr.'\" A glimmer of a smile played around the corners of his mouth.\n\nHe began gently. \"I want you to know that I'm a friend. I want to help you. I know you've been through much, and you've had a lot of adjustments to make. This world looks strange to you. It's a different place than the one you left, but it's not dangerous if you heed my warnings.\"\n\nThe visitor paused for a moment, looking at each of them in turn. He seemed in no hurry to continue. The eyes were penetrating. Zinovy dropped his gaze before their intensity. Then the stranger took a breath and went on.\n\n\"You're used to making your own decisions and taking care of yourselves, but you need help with some things now. You need to learn to trust.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. Trust was a tribute demanded by men who would become tyrants. The stranger turned and looked at Zinovy, increasing his discomfort. Then his gaze passed on to the others and he continued. \"You've chosen to move. It's the right decision. When you go, you'll be traveling to a destination. The destination is a city.\"\n\nEveryone began talking at once. \"A city?\"\n\n\"With people?\"\n\n\"Which city? Weren't they all destroyed in the explosion?\"\n\n\"Why would we want to go there?\"\n\nElan waited for the babble to settle before he spoke again. \"It's a good destination. A good city, ruled by a good king.\"\n\nGlaston raised his hand. Elan nodded to him. \"Just where is this city? How far away? And how do you suggest we get there?\"\n\n\"The city is located in the middle of the earth. It will be easy to find.\"\n\nZinovy was mystified. The middle of the earth was a core of molten iron, uninhabitable and impossible to get to.\n\nElan must have read the confusion on their faces. He clarified. \"No, no. The city is not in the center of the earth. It's in the middle. The 'medi-terra.' We used to call the sea in that region the Mediterranean, remember?\" He waited, watching to see that they understood before he went on. When their faces remained blank, he repeated, \"The city is there, near where the Mediterranean Sea used to be.\"\n\n\"Do you mean in Italy?\" Mike asked. In the early years, the Regime had considered Rome to be the center of the world.\n\n\"No, Italy isn't there anymore. This city is in what used to be the Middle East.\"\n\nThe news was taking a while to sink in. Their minds were dull, weakened by the stress they'd experienced, but Elan seemed to have infinite patience.\n\n\"The Middle East is far away,\" Raheem pointed out. \"Six thousand miles from here, at least.\"\n\n\"It's not that far. You can get there in time.\"\n\nZinovy struggled to hide his skepticism. Despite his earlier denial, Elan seemed to have an uncanny ability to read minds, yet he was oblivious to the realities around them. They had no means of transportation. The only way they could get anywhere was on foot. It would take them at least a year to get that far, and they had less than a week's supply of water. Apparently none of those details had registered with the strange man.\n\nAnother insurmountable problem stood in their way. Graham brought it up.\n\n\"I think we're forgetting something kind of important. Last time I looked there was an ocean between us and what you call 'the middle of the earth.' How would we get across that?\"\n\nThe others chuckled and Elan smiled. \"When was the last time you looked?\" Graham frowned and Elan went on. \"There is no ocean anymore.\"\n\nZinovy studied the man's face, remembering their fruitless search for the ocean with the GPS, remembering the condensation in the upper atmosphere they'd come through on the way down. The implications began to jump out at him. If this man was telling the truth, then Zinovy's assessment of the situation had been correct; the ocean had moved.\n\nZinovy's appreciation for the immensity of the nuclear event increased dramatically. The heat must have been unbelievably intense. The polar ice cap—what had happened to that? Was there any water left on earth? Had it all evaporated? That might explain their extreme thirst. But, no, there had to be some moisture. Otherwise the vegetation wouldn't have survived. The vegetation—how had it gotten there? The questions multiplied and Zinovy's consternation increased.\n\nThe discussion continued around him. Archie said something to Elan, who had just answered another question about the city. Then the meeting appeared to be over. Grace slipped away and the Muellers took their children to their quarters. Some of the crew moved in closer to the stranger, eager to hear more.\n\nZinovy hung around as well. He waited until the others had run out of questions, then he drew Elan aside. \"You talk about this city in the Middle East,\" he said. \"Do you know anything about what's going on in the rest of the world? Did other cities survive?\"\n\nElan shook his head. \"No, the King's city is the only one still standing. Individual people survived, but the cities they built did not.\"\n\n\"Is it possible anybody survived in St. Petersburg, my home city in Russia?\"\n\n\"It's possible. If someone were underground, or even if they were out in the open, away from falling buildings, they might have survived. It's the structures that were destroyed, not the people.\"\n\nZinovy studied the ground. So strange that a holocaust such as this would destroy sturdy structures, but not fragile human beings. Their shuttle, their technology, their synthetics, were melting away, yet their bodies seemed unaffected. The selectivity of the destruction didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. He looked up, ready with his next question, but the space beside him was empty.\n\n* * *\n\nThe rest of the day flew by. The crew were eager to get going, but there was much to do before they could leave. First, there was the concern for Grace. Archie had gone to check on her after the meeting and he stopped to talk to Zinovy on his way back. \"She's functioning, but she hasn't eaten much. She went to bed early last night but she doesn't look rested this morning. Is she able to travel?\"\n\nZinovy shook his head. \"I don't know. I'd like to see Carter's test results again.\"\n\n\"Regardless of the results, she's obviously not fit.\" Archie rubbed the back of his neck. \"It's time we told the others. This is going to affect them all sooner or later.\"\n\nThe community was shocked by the news. \"I can't believe I didn't notice she was sick,\" Michelle said. \"We've spent lots of time together. I guess because I didn't know her before I didn't realize she was any different.\"\n\n\"Has anyone else had problems?\" Archie asked. None had. Zinovy had been watching for symptoms in all of them and had noticed nothing.\n\n\"Is there anything we can do to help her?\" Michelle asked.\n\n\"We need some way to carry her if she's too sick to walk,\" Graham said. \"Like a wagon or something. We could take turns pulling it.\"\n\n\"That's not a bad idea,\" said Archie. \"We could use some kind of transport in any case. There'll be a lot to carry—all the supplies and equipment.\"\n\nThe young men, keen to tackle this new engineering challenge, settled down under Zinovy's supervision to explore the possibilities. They soon came up with a plan and set about making their design a reality. They worked industriously, determined to have the vehicle ready to go by the end of the day.\n\nRuben found a couple of slender metal rods that might work as axles, and, after one last thorough scavenging trip through the shuttle, they confiscated the ladder to use as a frame for the new vehicle.\n\nThe ladder was no great loss to the ship. Corrosion had nearly destroyed the structure by now. Ruben fell through the floor when he went to retrieve the last of the metal from the lab, nearly impaling himself on the rod he was carrying. Archie declared the shuttle condemned and their technological shelter was gone.\n\nEarlier in their explorations, Emery and Graham had found trees with short, thick trunks as dense as iron. They cajoled Carter into loaning them the laser-saw and ground away at the hard wood until they had four reasonably well-shaped wheels. Graham drilled holes in the center of each disc with a drill Conrad had jerry-rigged out of a metal file the underground crew had brought up with them. Zinovy watched the procedure with some concern. Ruben's accident worried him. If any of them were injured their plans would become much more complicated.\n\nWhen the wheels were finished, they fastened the wagon together with vines, lined the bed with thick, waxy leaves from another of the many trees Carter couldn't identify, and brought the finished product to Archie for inspection. Emery and Conrad hopped in the bed and Ruben and Simon pulled the wagon across the compound, demonstrating its speed and agility before an admiring crowd.\n\nZinovy stood, arms folded across his chest. \"And this odd mix of metal parts and vegetation is supposed to help transport us six thousand miles overland?\" He shook his head.\n\nArchie brushed the hair out of his eyes. \"It's not very pretty, but it might work.\" He watched as the vehicle careened past them again. Then he looked at Zinovy and grinned. \"You'd think these kids had just re-invented the wheel.\"\n\nThey now had a rudimentary form of transportation, but their communication system was gone. It had quit without warning that morning, just after Archie told Anderson about the strange visitor and their decision to leave for the city.\n\n\"I'm considering coming up sooner than I'd planned,\" the Canaveral commander had said. \"If you're running into others up there the environment can't be that threatening, and a lot of my people are getting restless.\"\n\n\"Do you want us to wait for you?\"\n\n\"No. Nothing's settled yet. If we come up we'll make our own way. Just continue to communicate as long as you can. Any information we get will be—\"\n\nThere the conversation ended. \"It's beyond repair,\" Glaston said. \"The core has eroded completely. It's a miracle it lasted as long as it did.\"\n\nBy suppertime they were ready to go. All supplies and equipment, including the EVARM unit, medical kit, fuel cell canisters and the generator, had been packed carefully in the back of the cart, leaving room for Grace at the front if she needed to ride. The saw was lashed on behind, where it could be accessed easily if bushwhacking became necessary. Backpacks full of personal belongings sat around under trees, waiting to be hoisted onto shoulders. Bedrolls would be added to the luggage in the morning.\n\nThe Canaveral gang were restless. All but Raheem played a sloppy game of football in the middle of the clearing with a vegetarian pigskin made out of a large, bell-shaped leaf, stuffed with moss and bound together with a piece of vine. Raheem had wandered into the forest, off on a personal errand of some sort. There was nothing left to do. Nothing but worry about the water supply, the radiation, and one other situation they would have to remedy before they could leave.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy headed toward Archie, who was signaling him from across the compound. \"This is kind of embarrassing,\" Archie said, when Zinovy was within earshot. \"I've got a problem no self-respecting expedition leader should ever have to admit.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" Zinovy asked, wondering what else could be wrong.\n\n\"The truth is, I don't know where we're going. I mean, I know we're going to this city, but how do we get there?\"\n\n\"I assumed we'd use the GPS. It's somewhere northeast of us where we're going, right? What's wrong with just heading out that way—as the crow flies?\"\n\n\"The GPS will start us off in the right direction. But if we do make it far enough to begin thinking about getting to the city, it might not be that easy. Finding the middle of the earth, and the city, wherever that is, could be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. If we can't get more precise information we could wander quite far out of our way. I wish Elan—\"\n\nZinovy interrupted him with a nudge, and pointed to the man who was walking toward them from the fringe on the south side of the clearing. He walked with Carter, as usual. So irritating. Elan still had not figured out the proper protocol.\n\n\"We're heading out tomorrow morning if all goes well,\" Archie began when they met in the middle of the compound.\n\n\"So Charles tells me,\" the stranger said.\n\n\"Uh.\" Archie hesitated, looked around, then turned to Elan. \"We're wondering if you can give us some directions. We know generally where we're headed, but I'd like some specifics if you could help us out with that.\"\n\n\"I'm happy to tell you,\" Elan said. \"It won't be difficult. You'll find your way quite naturally once you begin. But you need to start out going due north. You have your instrument, don't you?\"\n\nArchie nodded. \"But if the ocean is really gone, why wouldn't we head east, directly toward the region?\"\n\n\"There is no ocean, but the northerly route will take you where you need to go for now. In the end it will be quicker to go that way. Trust me.\"\n\nZinovy bristled at those last two words. \"Why will it be quicker? Why must we trust you?\"\n\nThe stranger smiled. \"Trust is what this journey is about.\"\n\nZinovy, exasperated, studied the man's face, but it revealed nothing and he gave no further explanation.\n\nArchie turned to another topic that had been weighing on Zinovy's mind as well. \"What about the government in this city we're going to? You mentioned a king. Is it a monarchy then? Or a dictatorship, like the last one?\"\n\nZinovy noted the deprecation in his tone. So Archie hadn't been as much of a company man as he'd supposed.\n\n\"It's a theocracy,\" Elan answered.\n\nArchie and Zinovy looked at each other. They were familiar with theocracies. The world had suffered its share. The last one, developing from the rapid rise to power of the mullahs and their terrorist enforcers in the Middle East, had led directly to the formation of the New World Regime seven years ago. The unprecedented explosion of new information technology had turned the world into a global community that needed global governance in order to survive.\n\n\"Then it's a dictatorship,\" Archie said.\n\nElan considered. \"It is a dictatorship, of a kind,\" he said. \"But it's a benevolent one.\"\n\nThe suspicion resonating in the back of Zinovy's mind erupted into a cacophony of alarm bells. He was shocked at the man's naivete. Did he know nothing of history?\n\nNo one knew so-called 'benevolent dictatorships' better than Zinovy. He'd been thoroughly indoctrinated—had enthusiastically embraced the glorious ideals of the People's Party. The socialist dream was supposed to be the ultimate solution to the problems of the world. But as he grew older, he realized that the Party really belonged to only a few of the people. The masses were in bondage to the few, and they lived in abject misery. He'd been fortunate to be near the top of the pyramid.\n\nArchie was talking again, pressing Elan for clarification. \"What do you mean by a dictatorship 'of a kind'?\" Do human rights and freedom of choice have any part in this new government?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" the stranger assured him. \"People are free to choose, as they always have been. But the foolishness of refusing to submit to the authority of the King is more evident now than ever before.\"\n\nThis was sounding worse all the time. Zinovy wanted no more of the threats that enforced conformity to autocratically determined political agendas. The seed of suspicion planted in Zinovy's mind during their first meeting with this man was now a full-grown tree. He looked at Elan's placid face and saw evil there.\n\nThe evil was all the more insidious because it was embodied in a kind of pseudo-diplomacy. The benevolence Elan had expressed before—his willingness to be \"of service\"—began to undergo a grotesque transformation in Zinovy's mind. They were going to have to be as crafty as serpents with this person. He raised his eyebrows at Archie and Archie returned the look.\n\nAfter Elan left, Archie and Zinovy had their own meeting. \"We have no reason to trust this man,\" Zinovy said.\n\n\"I know.\" They stood in silence for a moment, then Archie said. \"But what else can we do? At least he's given us some hope.\"\n\n\"Hope. You mean wishful thinking.\" Zinovy knew how useless a thing hope was. Hollow, formless, a black hole of disappointment. He couldn't remember ever having any hope, at least for anything that wasn't under his control.\n\n\"Well, we've made our plans. We've got to pursue them.\"\n\n\"But we need to be careful. Everything this man tells us we have to question.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Archie said. \"We'll test his advice and take what seems to our benefit. We'll head for this city, but we won't go blindly.\" He looked around. \"By the way, have you seen the logbook anywhere? Raheem says it's been missing for a while. It's not our biggest worry, but we should at least keep a record of our progress when we begin this trip.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Zinovy said. \"I've got it. I'll get it to Raheem.\"\n\n* * *\n\nIn the stress of the last few days, Zinovy had forgotten about his own personal problem. Now it was time to deal with the situation.\n\nThe logbook had been tucked away in his kit bag, waiting until he had time to use it. He needed to do some research, and he needed an assistant. Raheem was the logical recruit. The young man didn't need to know the significance of his task, and since he was Grace's aide, the others wouldn't wonder at his possession of the logbook or his assignment. Zinovy retrieved the logbook and went looking for him. He found the boy outside Grace's shelter, watching the others play football.\n\n\"I have a job for you, Raheem,\" he said. \"I want to record some personal data from the crew.\" He opened the logbook to the last page, wrote his name at the top, and wrote his GEN beside it—SS249-731-900. Then he handed the book and the pencil to Raheem. \"I need you to go around to all the crew and have them write their names and GEN's below mine. Make sure they do the writing. I want an accurate record. Then bring the book back to me. Do you understand?\"\n\nRaheem nodded, and wandered off toward the game.\n\nZinovy watched him go, then he began a restless pacing back and forth across the compound, thinking for the hundredth time how impossible this journey was. He reviewed the dreary facts: more than six thousand miles stretched around the earth between Canaveral and the city. If the city existed. Or if it had not moved. This crazy new world offered no guarantees about either possibility. They might be heading to a destination that had relocated itself to the North Pole, for all they knew.\n\nThey were on foot, with two children. On a good day, they might put twenty of the six thousand miles behind them. And that was just one of their challenges. Archie hadn't told the others, but their water would be gone in four days.\n\nZinovy squinted up at the shimmering light above his head. The whole idea of this trip was insane. Yet, in spite of it all, Zinovy was anxious to get started. The reminder that he had an enemy in camp had also been a reminder of his enemy on the other side of the world. According to Elan, there was a chance Anton had survived. If he had, their trip to that mythical city would take Zinovy 6000 miles closer to him. Six thousand miles closer to his revenge for the murder of Nadya and his child.\n\nZinovy had a purpose. He had a goal. He had a destination. His spirits revived, somewhat, at the reminder. If he didn't make it, he would at least die trying. Better to die that way than to die of resignation.\n\nSomething else happened that evening that lightened his spirits some more. There was no reason for the relief he felt, the release of a kind of restriction that had gripped his chest for the last few days, but it came anyway, as he was eating his dinner. To be precise, it came the moment he saw Sara and the boy walking back into the compound.\n\nHe watched as she came through the camp, avoiding the main group, heading for Grace's quarters. The boy trudged along beside her, head down. The bounce had left his step. He looked tired. Their supplies must have run out.\n\nHe got up, took his dishes to the shrubbery, wiped them down and stowed them in the bucket waiting to be loaded onto the cart for transport in the morning. Then he went off to check his gear, making sure all was in place for the trip.\n\nWhen he'd done everything that needed doing, he wandered through the clearing and into the shrubs behind the headquarters. A rabbit hopped from under one of the bushes, blinked up at him, then loped purposefully off into the tall grass along the edge of the trees. The rabbit had no worries, and he seemed to know what he was supposed to be doing with his life.\n\nThe muffled sound of sobbing interrupted Zinovy's anthropomorphic musings. He pushed aside some dense foliage in his path and found Sara sitting, her back propped against a smooth-barked tree. The boy was on her lap and the sobs came from the small face buried in her shoulder.\n\nZinovy had seen enough tears in the last few days. He wanted to leave, but his feet refused to move. He stood looking down at the two waifs, the strange spell of the moment holding him transfixed. Sara glanced up.\n\n\"What's the matter with him?\" he asked.\n\nShe grimaced. \"He's grieving. When Peter and Jenna heard their parents were coming up, I had to tell him that his wouldn't be coming back. He's been like this ever since.\"\n\nZinovy stood watching the forlorn little figure, the heaving shoulders, the hands tucked up in front of the dripping face, and something moved inside him. He stepped forward and knelt before them on the grass.\n\n\"Let me take him,\" he said, surprising himself with the words. He held out his arms toward the boy.\n\nSara's eyes widened. She looked at him for a moment, then down at the sobbing child. Finally, she relaxed her hold and let her arms fall to her sides. Zinovy leaned over and took the boy from her, drawing him close, collecting the little limbs into a soft ball onto his lap. The boy continued to cry, but he settled into Zinovy's embrace and soon two small arms came up and clung to his neck.\n\nA strange sensation came over Zinovy. His heart began to pound. He sat motionless—afraid of disturbing the child now weeping forlornly into the crook of his neck. Sara left them sitting in the glittering twilight. Zinovy saw the curious picture they made reflected in her eyes before she turned to go.\n\nHow had he arrived at this place, so different from what he'd expected when he left St. Petersburg for the space station assignment? Nothing should have happened the way it had. Nothing should be as it was. Yet they were here, together, for good or for ill, and tomorrow the next leg of the journey would begin.\n\n### PART TWO\n\n### The Journey\n\nWhen I learned that He would always be with me\n\nsomething cleared in my mind and soul.\n\nVictor Stepanovich Andreev,\n\nMajor General and Admiral of the Russian Army/Navy\n\nCHAPTER TEN\n\nZinovy woke with a start and leaped to his feet, hands ready to throttle the enemy he'd been stalking in his dreams. He blinked through the dim midnight light at Raheem, who crouched beside the commander, shaking his arm and talking excitedly. \"Come quick. It is the sickness again.\"\n\nBerry scrambled to his feet and they raced across the compound to the place the boys had bedded down for the night. Five of them rolled on the ground in the throes of the sickness. Graham and Emery had lost their supper. The twins and Conrad looked as if they were about to. Mike and Alex stood by, watching helplessly.\n\nBerry assessed the situation, then sent Alex off to the supply cabinet for medicine. Mike frowned down at the sick boys. \"It went away before,\" he said. \"Maybe it'll go away again.\" He looked up at Archie. \"Does this mean we can't go?\"\n\n\"We can't leave if people are too sick to travel.\"\n\nAlex came back. Berry and Zinovy stayed until the sick boys had taken the medicine and the others had crawled into bed again, then they headed back to their own disheveled blankets.\n\n\"They'll be crazy with disappointment if we don't go,\" Zinovy said to Archie as they settled down. \"They're determined.\"\n\n\"I know they are, but determination can only carry them so far. The reality is . . . .\" Archie left his sentence unfinished.\n\n\"What is reality?\" Zinovy said. \"Do you know any more?\"\n\nArchie shrugged. Zinovy yawned, and fell instantly asleep.\n\nBut the boys' determination prevailed. By breakfast time all five of the sick ones were up and trying to eat. They weren't in top form, Zinovy could tell, but they were determined not to show signs of weakness.\n\n\"I'm totally stumped by the way this sickness works,\" Zinovy said to Archie as they gathered their belongings for the journey. \"If it's radiation sickness there should be no recovery at all. Everyone should be affected, and we should all be getting worse, not better. Why does it seem the effects wear off after a time?\"\n\nArchie shrugged. \"I have no idea. There must be something working to counteract the effects of the radiation, but I don't know what, or how it happens.\"\n\n\"Maybe it's not the radiation,\" Zinovy said. \"Is there anything else that might be causing the problem?\"\n\nArchie swept his arm through the sparkling atmosphere. \"Look around you. Has to be the air. It sizzles with radioactivity.\" He pointed to the EVARM badge attached to Zinovy's shirt. \"You see that? Levels have stayed close to the top since we've landed. It's just a matter of time before the effects become permanent.\"\n\nZinovy shook his head and walked away, wondering why they seemed compelled to go through the motions of everyday life, as if there were such a thing anymore.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy's preparations were over. He cracked his knuckles, and sat down in one of the chairs at the command center, restless with the wait. They were leaving the compound in rather a mess, he noted. The ship lay crumpled in a disorderly heap, looking like a woman of the streets on the morning after the night before. The boneyard behind the shuttle had become the town dump. Even the command center where he sat had taken on a dilapidated look. The seats were worn and the now-defunct communications console listed to the right, its supports on that side having rotted almost completely away. Zinovy glanced down at the base of the structure, noting that the left side was about to go as well.\n\nHe watched as the others scrambled to get ready. Everyone was mobile. Graham and the twins rooted around in the foliage at the edge of the clearing. Emery and Mike were off helping Raheem with some last minute task. The Muellers stood nearby, adjusting the straps on their backpacks. Even the children would be carrying small loads.\n\nSara and the boy had been gone all morning again. These strange disappearances mystified Zinovy, but even as he was musing they appeared, coming out of the trees to his left. They'd changed. Sara's spiky hair was beginning to grow, now falling in curly tendrils about her face in a way that was not unattractive. She still seemed haunted, and wary, but she was looking less . . . how to say it? . . . more filled out or something.\n\nCaleb seemed himself again, lively and curious, bouncing around with limitless energy. He glanced over at Zinovy and ran across the clearing, pulling up abruptly, leaning over to shout his latest discovery into Zinovy's ear. The chair gave way, spilling its occupant onto the ground in an undignified heap.\n\nZinovy picked himself up and smoothed down his jeans. He was adjusting to the Levis very slowly.\n\nEric walked by, grinning. \"What's the matter, cowboy? Fall off your horse?\" Zinovy glared at him.\n\n\"Time to go,\" Archie called across the compound. \"Let's get things together.\"\n\nZinovy headed off to find Grace. Caleb went with him, attaching himself to Zinovy's hand as if it were his own personal possession. Zinovy nodded at Sara as he went by and she returned the greeting, tentatively.\n\nThey found Grace sitting on the mound of brush that served as her bed, her pack of belongings beside her. She was holding a small box, sniffing at the contents. Raheem squatted on the ground, and Emery and Mike hovered in the background. She glanced up when the two newcomers arrived.\n\n\"Look.\" She held up her treasure. \"Another present.\"\n\nRaheem grinned. \"Only some more talc. It is not quite the same as the first, but it smells good.\"\n\nZinovy nodded, noting the pleasure in both of their faces. Caleb tugged at his hand.\n\n\"It's time to go,\" Zinovy said. \"We're gathering in the clearing now. Sure you feel up to it?\" He bent and studied Grace's face.\n\nShe nodded. \"I'm ready.\"\n\nZinovy pulled her to her feet, gathered up her parcel, and they left the bower.\n\nWithin minutes everyone had gathered. Eric studied the GPS unit. They were heading north, as Elan had advised, but both Archie and Zinovy were ready to redirect eastward if it seemed a better route.\n\n\"Put that thing away, Eric,\" Archie said. \"It's our most important instrument now. We don't want it melting.\" Eric stowed the GPS in its metal box and closed the latch.\n\nArchie took a last look around the compound. Then, with little fanfare, they were off.\n\nArchie and Eric took the lead, carrying the box with the GPS. Carter followed. Zinovy, with Caleb still attached, walked beside Grace.\n\nZinovy glanced down at her, noting the bent head framed by the straight dark hair that had lost its soft sheen. How long could she manage? Zinovy glanced over his shoulder. Sara followed at a distance, behind Mark and Michelle with their children. He should give Caleb to her, but he didn't want to leave Grace long enough to make the transfer, so they continued on in the same formation.\n\nThe young men trailed at the back of the line, fully recovered and more boisterous than ever now that they were on their way. The twins pulled the wagon.\n\nThey traveled for three hours, the line gradually spreading out, until the caravan suddenly halted. Zinovy sent Caleb back to Sara and pulled up behind Carter to see what was going on. Archie glanced up as he approached. \"Look at this, Zinovy.\" Carter was holding the EVARM unit. \"These readings are going up astronomically. They've risen half again as high as they were when we started. What do you make of it?\"\n\n\"It's obvious we're heading into greater concentrations of the stuff,\" Carter said, looking from one to the other. \"We can't keep heading in this direction.\"\n\nArchie shot a significant glance at Zinovy, obviously considering a move to 'Plan B'. Zinovy nodded.\n\nArchie turned to Eric. \"Where's the GPS? We're going to make an adjustment to our route. We'll go directly east—see if we can get out of this deadlier atmosphere. What's our direction now?\"\n\nEric frowned at the instrument. \"Well, so far we've been going due north. East is that way.\" He pointed. \"I think it's that way. I'm not too sure we can trust this reading though.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Archie looked over Eric's shoulder.\n\n\"The distances are screwed up. I've got it tracking on our destination, but the reading shows the site to be a lot closer than it is.\" He squinted at the lines on the map. \"Like a little over four thousand miles closer.\"\n\n\"That can't be.\"\n\n\"I know. This thing is falling apart like everything else.\"\n\n\"But it was tracking direction change while we were moving, wasn't it? Let's test that. Here, hold it up. Now turn ninety degrees to the right.\" Eric followed Archie's instructions. \"There, see? It shows a ninety-degree turn from north to east. That's all right.\"\n\nEric nodded. \"I guess so. Yeah. And when I turn another ninety degrees it shows south.\"\n\n\"Well, let's go with it then. We've got nothing else.\" So they readjusted their course and the whole party moved off to the east.\n\nThe rest of the day proceeded without incident. They stopped for a brief lunch in a grove of maple trees whose leaves glistened a brilliant spring green over their heads. Then they plodded on, following their leader for another six hours before he finally called a halt for the night.\n\nTheir first day had exhausted them. Even Zinovy was glad to rest, but he made the rounds, checking on everyone else before he turned in. His crew tried to appear functional, but he'd noticed more than one of them turn a pasty green and dip off into the brush at various times during the day. He found Grace sleeping peacefully, smiling slightly, the container of fragrant sawdust resting near her face.\n\nOn the way back to his bed, he stopped by the secluded hollow Sara had chosen for her resting place. She and Caleb also slept, curled up on a soft, grassy hummock. Her arm was draped over Caleb's small frame and his head was nestled under her chin. Zinovy stood for a moment looking down at them, then moved on to his spot across the clearing.\n\nSitting down on his bedroll, he pulled out the logbook Raheem had returned to him, opened it, and placed the crumpled receipt from his pocket next to the numbers the crew members had written on the back page. He studied the figures carefully, squinting in the dimming light. Finally he frowned, put the paper back in his pocket and closed the logbook.\n\n* * *\n\nMorning brightened, but the weary travelers clung to their beds. Zinovy rolled up his blanket and went to find Archie.\n\n\"Well, what do you think?\" Archie asked as he neared. \"Are we okay to move on? We could rest a day, but I hate to break our stride until we get farther on.\"\n\n\"Let's wait and see,\" Zinovy said. \"Everyone's pretty quiet but maybe breakfast will perk them up.\"\n\nHe went to the cart and began unloading supplies. Some of the others crawled out of their blankets, and Simon and Ruben wandered over to help with meal prep.\n\nZinovy glanced over to the women's corner of the encampment. No sign of activity there. He left the twins to their cereal mixing and went to check on Grace. He found her in bad shape. She lay curled up on a grassy hummock with her eyes closed. Zinovy didn't have the heart to suggest she come for breakfast. It was good they had the cart. She might need it today.\n\nOn the way back through the compound he passed Sara's empty bed. He looked over to see if she and Caleb were in the breakfast line, but they weren't. Everyone else was awake, moving slowly, but bundling their bedrolls and making preparations for the journey.\n\nZinovy spooned cereal into his bowl and ate it standing up. When he'd finished, he walked over to Archie, who was sitting on a tuft of grass, dictating a long report to Raheem—filling in the data they'd missed when Zinovy had the logbook. Zinovy waited until the dictation was finished, then spoke. \"Sara and the boy aren't here. Should we look for them?\"\n\nArchie raised his head and surveyed the edges of the clearing. \"You can check around if you want, but I'm sure they'll be back. They do have a habit of coming and going. I don't think we should wait long. Radiation levels haven't gone down enough to suit me yet.\"\n\nZinovy went off to arrange for Grace's transportation, but when he got to her bedroll she was up and moving around. He offered her the cart, but she shook her head. \"I'll be okay. I'll get a granola bar. Maybe if I eat something I'll feel better.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't convinced, but he didn't want to insist she ride. She could walk until she dropped. Then they'd be able to put her in the cart without an argument. He went to get her something to eat, then gathered his pack and headed to the center of the camp.\n\nBy the time the others were packed and ready to go, the two wanderers had returned, moving into the campsite from the bushes to the north. Archie gathered the group and they started off, gradually picking up the pace as they found their stride. Grace began well, matching the pace even as it increased. Zinovy walked behind her, ready to catch her if she stumbled.\n\nThe morning passed. They stopped briefly for lunch, then plodded on, but the terrain fought against them, the vegetation pressing in more tightly the farther they went. Soon they were pushing through clumps of grass growing so tall and so close together that Zinovy had to sweep them aside with his arms so Grace could move forward. The boys with the cart had to detour around the worst of the obstructions, and by mid-afternoon, the grassy meadow had merged into a field of bushes and shrubs so thick they couldn't get through at all.\n\nThey stopped, and Zinovy eased Grace to the ground where she immediately fell asleep, her head on a mound of mossy earth underneath a clump of yellow-leaved bushes. Zinovy pushed his way through the dense growth toward Archie.\n\n\"What now?\" he said.\n\nArchie shook his head. \"Charles is going to get the saw. He wants to bushwhack, but I'm not sure how far he'll get.\" He looked across the waist-high ocean of green stretching ahead of them. \"This stuff goes on forever.\"\n\nCharles came up, pulling the laser saw across the top of the foliage as he dragged his bulky frame through the brush, turning the iridescent air around his mouth a brilliant blue. He looked up at them, and then got to work. Two hours later they'd managed to move everything, including the cart, half a mile farther along.\n\n* * *\n\nElan was back. Zinovy stood with Carter and watched him work his way up the line of tired pilgrims toward them.\n\n\"It's about time,\" Carter said, looking down at their latest problem. The generator had broken down. \"I can't fathom why the atmosphere of this place is so hard on machines, yet the plants we're fighting seem to thrive in it.\"\n\nCarter was right. The generator had been sputtering for half an hour before it finally quit, its intake valve choking on the glittering air it sucked. But, even as they crashed their way through this tender forest, the greenery closed behind them with no sign of the wounds they'd inflicted.\n\n\"I thought you loved plants,\" Zinovy said.\n\n\"Well I'm getting damn tired of this particular species. Look.\" Carter nodded in Elan's direction. \"He's wasting his sweet time getting to us, stopping to say 'hello' to everyone like this was some kind of church picnic or something.\"\n\nWhen he finally reached Carter's side, Elan received an abrupt welcome.\n\n\"Where have you been? I thought you were going to help us with this trip. We're having the devil of a time getting through this crap, and now the generator's broken down so we can't use the saw.\"\n\nElan was unperturbed. \"Why aren't you going north like I told you to? It would be much easier walking.\"\n\nZinovy chuckled under his breath. Elan was not reading the signs. Carter was in no mood for suggestions.\n\n\"We're going this way because the 'middle of the earth,' as you call it, is east of us,\" Carter said.\" You told us there was no ocean. We're taking the direct route.\" He grunted as he stooped over the generator.\n\nElan watched Carter pound on the start button. Finally he said, \"You don't need the saw, Charles. You're making this more difficult than it needs to be. Just walk single file through the thickest parts.\"\n\n\"What do you mean we don't need the saw? How do you think we're going to get all this equipment and the supplies through? It's not just a matter of strolling along, you know. We have to carry our infrastructure with us. The cart needs clearance.\" Carter ducked his head and muttered to himself. Zinovy picked up a phrase here and there, including the words, \"idiot\" and \"no help at all.\"\n\n\"Why don't you reassess your need for all the equipment,\" Elan suggested gently. \"And the supplies even?\"\n\nCarter shook his head and stalked off. \"Come on, Zinovy.\" he said. \"It looks like we'll have to do this the hard way.\"\n\nZinovy hesitated, studying the man by his side.\n\n\"Wait,\" Elan called after Charles. The botanist turned around once more, rolling his eyes. Elan seemed not to notice the body language. \"You didn't ask, but I'll tell you. You can use whatever you find here.\" He gestured to the trees around him. \"Just don't destroy anything.\"\n\nCarter shook his head again and stomped off. Zinovy caught up in time to hear him say, under his breath, \"That's a joke. This stuff will destroy us before we'll be able to make a dent in it.\"\n\nZinovy looked back at Elan, saw him start to speak, then stop. \"You're right,\" he heard the man say into the glittering, empty air. \"I guess you'll have to do it the hard way.\"\n\n* * *.\n\nZinovy ignored the pain biting at his empty stomach as he spread out his bedding. They'd had a small supper. No one was in the mood to eat and Archie was trying to conserve the food supply. Most of the crew had gone to bed. The long afternoon pushing through the dense vegetation had worn them out.\n\nFlipping a corner of the blanket over a tuft of mossy mattress, Zinovy glanced over to Archie's makeshift command center and straightened immediately, his attention arrested by what he saw.\n\nThe strangers filtered through the trees into the campsite one by one. Zinovy counted six men—no seven—there was another one—before most of the crew had noticed their coming. The forward one, obviously in command, approached Archie who was sitting under a Banyan tree dictating his nightly report to Raheem. The man came up behind them, cautiously, but not stealthily, and waited for them to finish before he spoke.\n\nZinovy was too far away to hear his words, but he saw Archie whirl around and leap to his feet. The two spoke for a moment, then shook hands. In another minute Archie looked across the compound and beckoned with his head. Zinovy went to join them.\n\nSo there were yet more survivors. Zinovy digested this new piece of information on his way to the command center, wondering how many more were out there, his pulse quickening at the possibility that Anton might be one of them.\n\nThe newcomer was slim but well built, about his own age, Zinovy guessed. A firm chin and a straightforward manner, but emaciated, with dark circles under his eyes. Archie made the introductions. \"Adam, this is Zinovy Kozlov, my second-in-command. Zinovy, Adam Hamilton.\"\n\nThe man reached out to shake Zinovy's hand. \"Good to meet you.\"\n\n\"Adam's come from Atlanta. He and his crew were underground there at the time of the blast.\"\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows. \"Atlanta? You've come far.\"\n\n\"We've been traveling for a month—going hard and fast. We're trying to connect up with another underground group we contacted via satellite.\"\n\n\"Where is this group?\"\n\n\"Just north of Miami. We should be about there, but we've not found the coastline yet.\"\n\nArchie and Zinovy exchanged glances. \"Let's sit and talk,\" Archie said. \"We might be able to shed some light on the situation for you.\"\n\nZinovy glanced around, checking the whereabouts of the six other men before he settled down on the turf with the other two. He kept one eye on their movements as Archie gave the newcomer a brief history of the shuttle crew and an account of the beginning of their expedition toward the mythical city. The other men stayed together at the edge of the clearing, a reasonable distance from where the crew had bedded down.\n\nHamilton seemed particularly interested in where they'd gotten their information about the city. Archie told him about Elan.\n\n\"What did he look like?\" Hamilton asked.\n\nZinovy and Archie hesitated, each waiting for the other to answer. Finally, Archie said, \"I can't tell you. That's odd. I can picture our meeting, but I can't picture the stranger. I can't even remember what kind of clothes he was wearing. Can you, Zinovy?\" He looked over with a frown.\n\nZinovy thought back, but his memory of Elan's appearance was gone, washed away, he supposed, by other, more alien images that assaulted his senses in this strange new world.\n\n\"I think we've seen him around,\" Adam said. \"A slight man, not very tall. Has a habit of coming and going unexpectedly.\"\n\n\"That's him,\" Archie said. \"Has he approached you?\"\n\nAdam shook his head. \"We've only seen him from a distance. Whenever we move in his direction, he leaves. We're suspicious.\"\n\nArchie moved the discussion back to the topic of survival: \"What about you?\" he asked. \"What were you doing when the quake hit?\"\n\n\"We'd been in Atlanta for the last four years. When the disruption occurred we were working on a special project for the government.\"\n\n\"What kind of project?\"\n\n\"The details aren't important,\" Adam said, \"but because of our connections we'd been aware of the need to go underground. We knew a Regime plan was in operation. It shouldn't have been dangerous to anyone in our area, but we were overly cautious because our data was valuable.\"\n\n\"Must have been an important project.\"\n\nAdam continued, either oblivious to the subtle probing or ignoring it. \"We went down just in time. The blast came the next day. We immediately lost contact with everything aboveground, of course, and it was several days before we reconnected with anyone. Did you make contact with anyone else?\"\n\nArchie, seemingly uninterested in the communications issue, probed in another direction. \"The plan you mentioned—what do you know about it? Could it have been the cause of the blast?\"\n\n\"I don't know a lot about the operation, and I'm not at liberty to say what I do know. I don't think it caused the destruction we've encountered, though. This kind of cataclysmic change would definitely not have been in the plan.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe the operation went out of control, triggered something else that resulted in the total devastation.\"\n\nAdam shook his head. \"I don't think so. This is something different. The elimination of everything that was here before, and the creation of this bizarre landscape to replace it—none of this could have come about through anything the Regime did.\" He glanced up and his eyes narrowed. \"There's nothing left at all—nothing as it was. We've traveled over six hundred miles and we haven't run into any sign of a city, or a road—nothing man-made. Just this blasted greenery, and a stream or two here and there.\"\n\n\"You've found water?\" Archie was instantly alert.\n\n\"Rivulets only. They're so small we haven't been able to discover a source, and the water reeks of the radiation. We avoid it as much as possible. I suppose it doesn't really matter any more though. We're already contaminated.\" He pursed his lips. \"We've been eating the vegetation. We ran out of food supplies early on.\"\n\nArchie glanced at Zinovy, then back again. \"How are you doing? Have you had any symptoms?\"\n\n\"Yes, we've had some. All of us are slightly unwell, some more than others. We know we're increasing the problem by ingesting all the extra radiation, but we don't much care any more. Hunger pangs are about as bad as the other.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't so sure. Looking at the drawn, pallid face before him, he judged Adam had been underestimating the extent of their deterioration.\n\n\"We're going to be in the same position soon,\" Archie said. \"We're surprised we've gotten this far, aren't you?\"\n\n\"We're amazed,\" Adam admitted. \"Absolutely amazed. We have no idea what's going on. We expected to disintegrate in the radiation.\"\n\nZinovy could relate. He still woke up every morning checking to see if he was alive.\n\n\"We must be getting some hydration from the vegetation, though. We were desperate for water before, but now we don't even drink. We haven't had water since the end of the first week. I don't know what's happening, but I'm sure it's not good.\"\n\nZinovy studied the grimace on the man's face. He looked like a dead man already.\n\nArchie came back to the topic of communications. He filled Adam in on their contacts from the shuttle and Adam told them, in turn, about other underground survivors. \"We have—or had—a number of cells located at various places around the world. We were connected via special satellite links with most of them and after we reestablished contact we talked to them regularly, until our equipment failed a couple of weeks ago. They're in much the same shape. Same conditions aboveground. Same concerns.\"\n\nZinovy cut in. \"These cells you've contacted—were any of them in Russia?\"\n\n\"Some were. Why?\"\n\n\"I'm looking for news of my colleagues who were in St. Petersburg when the event occurred. Did you get any reports from there?\"\n\n\"We made some contact with St. Petersburg. There were survivors. Some of the government offices had evacuated to the cellars before the Throne Speech began.\"\n\n\"Do you have any names of survivors?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Adam said. \"I can't say. That kind of information is classified. There's still an underground network of regime personnel operating at a number of spots around the world. We'd begun working with them to sort out our next moves when our communication equipment broke down.\"\n\nHe shifted his position, drawing one leg up under him, wincing as he did so. \"We did learn some things I can share with you, though, about what's going on aboveground. One of the cells is located in Tel Aviv, so we were able to get first-hand information on the government.\"\n\n\"I'd like to hear more about that.\" Archie paused, scrutinizing the man's face. \"But why don't we take a break first. Let us fix you something to eat. We don't have much, but what we have you're welcome to.\"\n\n\"Thanks. We'd appreciate that.\"\n\nZinovy went to the pantry, stirred up a pot of beans, and brought it to the men. They ate eagerly. \"This is our first taste of traditional food in nearly a month,\" Adam said between bites. When he finished, he sat back, wiped his mouth, and filled them in on what he'd learned about happenings in the Middle East.\n\nThe news was not good.\n\n\"No one knows where the government came from. It was a grassroots affair as far as we can tell, set up by locals in the old part of Jerusalem. Incredibly, the city walls survived the blast, but by the time our people made it over to investigate, guards had been stationed at the city gates. There are patrols on the outskirts of the city as well. None of the Tel Aviv people have been able to get near the city to check out the situation close up.\"\n\nHe went on, \"That might have been okay if the government had remained local. But within a week, stragglers—small groups here and there—began to stumble in, and the surrounding area developed into a massive refugee camp. People are camped all over the place, scattered helter-skelter with no organization and no sign of governmental planning or provision for all the pilgrims. Rumors say that the local king, obviously not quite all there, has declared himself ruler of the world.\" Adam smiled as he said it, but the furrowed brow remained.\n\n\"Will anything that's happening there affect us?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"Probably not immediately. But our sources told us that the local government seems busy in one regard at least. Precious stones and gold are streaming into the city on handcarts and the backs of animals. Where it comes from and why it's all going to that city we have no idea, but it's suspicious that the only observable activity of the local government so far has been the amassing of a fortune in precious metals and gems.\"\n\nAdam stopped, put his mouth in the crook of his arm, and coughed deeply. Then he continued, \"There's no sign of an infrastructure being built, or a local economy developing. Everything seems to be done on the black market. As near as our people can tell, forage and barter are the only means of supply to the locals.\"\n\n\"Is there anything to forage on?\" Zinovy asked, curious about the physical environment near the city.\n\n\"There seems to be. We don't know what it is or where it's coming from, but no one is starving from what the scouts could see. Maybe they're eating the vegetation as well, but they don't seem to be suffering. No sign of sickness, even though radiation levels in that part of the world are outrageously high. This whole radiation thing is a mystery. It doesn't make any sense.\"\n\nAdam coughed again and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He'd been out in the worst of the radiation within hours of the nuclear accident, and the menace was obviously at work on more than his digestive system.\n\nIt was well past midnight when they finished talking. Archie suggested to Adam that his group bed down with them for the rest of the night. \"You're welcome to travel along with us. We're moving slowly because of the children, but if you can stand our slow pace we'll be happy to have you.\"\n\nAdam thanked him, but declined both offers. Zinovy suspected he was skeptical of their report that the ocean had disappeared, and wanted to continue the search. After the customary good-bye's were said, the seven weak men headed off to the east, aiming to get as far as they could before the brightening of the morning.\n\nBefore he turned in, Zinovy went to check on Grace and his crew. He found them in various states of misery. The boys slept restlessly, tossing and turning on the ground at the edge of the clearing. Emery mumbled in his sleep and a couple of the others groaned when they turned over.\n\nZinovy studied them, wondering. The handwriting comparison hadn't solved the mystery. Any one of them could have scribbled the note on the back of the receipt. But Zinovy's initial concern had become only a curiosity. It didn't really matter which of them had been Anton's man. Whoever it was had no way of contacting him now, even if he were one of the St. Petersburg survivors.\n\nGrace looked worse than the boys. He studied the dark circles under her eyes, the loose clothing on her shrinking frame, and wondered how long she'd be able to move with them. She'd slept fitfully while Carter worked on the generator in the afternoon, and when she woke, she didn't have enough energy to walk. She made no protest when Zinovy put her in the cart and tucked a blanket around her feet. Now, she slept again, moaning when she turned, her limbs jerking in spasms that must have been painful.\n\nZinovy slipped away to his own bed, stopping by the supply wagon along the way to get an aspirin. His head had started to ache and he needed to sleep well in the few hours that remained before morning.\n\nCHAPTER ELEVEN\n\nMorning came immediately. Zinovy woke to the music of the birds who were obviously unaware that the night had been far too short. He rubbed his eyes, dragged himself out of bed, and joined the others who moved around the campsite, munching on a dreary breakfast of cereal bars.\n\nArchie and Zinovy met briefly to discuss the day's plans. \"I still think it's important to keep going as long as we can,\" Archie said. \"We can stop for a day or so later on, but I want to keep up the momentum for now if possible.\"\n\nSo they formed their lines and started out. Carter led the way. He'd managed to get the generator working again. The noise of the saw rattled tree branches as Carter moved ahead, clearing a path wide enough for the cart to negotiate. He popped antacid tablets as he went and he stumbled often, but he kept going.\n\nArchie, Zinovy, and Eric walked behind him, followed by the boys, with Conrad and Mike pulling the cart. Grace had submitted to the indignity of riding without protest. Conrad and Mike tried to avoid bumps, but in the rough terrain it was hard to keep her comfortable.\n\nSara, Mark and Michelle herded the children at the end of the line. The little ones pranced around, covering more mileage than everyone else in their enthusiasm.\n\nBut by mid-morning they were stopped again, their way completely blocked by shrubbery so dense even the saw couldn't get through. Archie fell back beside Zinovy and drew him aside. \"I think we're going to have to head north again. It looks to be more open in that direction, and there's no way we can get through this stuff. Maybe that's why Elan told us to go north in the first place.\"\n\n\"But the radiation—\"\n\n\"I know. I don't like it. But we'll just have to take our chances. I don't see any other way.\"\n\nThey opened the GPS and re-directed, wearing their badges and checking the EVARM unit every hour or so. As they'd feared, radiation levels started to climb, but at least their path was more open, and they made much better time.\n\nThe new route led through ever-changing scenery. The undulating topography of the region resembled that of the Canaveral area, but the length and breadth of the rises and the shallow depressions were greater. New vegetation types sprouted up along their path. Everything remained in the pre-flowering stage. No sign of either flowers or fruit. This was a problem, Carter explained. \"It's impossible to identify species without flowers. Leaves give some clue, but it's the flowers that really allow the differentiation.\"\n\n\"Does it really matter the kind?\" Zinovy asked.\n\nCarter rolled his eyes and they moved on.\n\nAnd so the day passed. Dense undercover abounded in places, but the saw met little resistance in the tender brush and they plowed through it without real difficulty. At noon Grace crawled out of the cart for lunch, and walked for a while when they started again. She seemed stronger, but she still looked terrible, and she only lasted an hour before climbing back into the wagon of her own accord. Zinovy fell in behind the cart so he could keep an eye on her.\n\nEarly in the evening they pulled into a hollow and prepared to settle for the night. Zinovy dropped his pack and helped Grace out of the cart. Then, stretching his stiff muscles, he sauntered over to Archie.\n\nAlex and Conrad were pouring some of the precious water into a jug, preparing to make potato soup. Archie stood beside them, hands on his hips.\n\n\"Zinovy, I wonder if we should skip supper tonight.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Well, I know we need to eat, but the water's more important in the long run.\"\n\nZinovy hesitated. \"We can't keep going without food.\" He knew Archie was berating himself for not being able to fix this greatest of their problems. A couple of days ago they'd considered digging a well, trying to find a fresh supply, but they had nothing but the two short shovels to dig with and surface water would be highly contaminated.\n\n\"Maybe we'll have to give in and try some of the vegetation, like Adam did.\"\n\nZinovy shook his head. \"No. Can't do that.\" The plant tissues they'd tested were teeming with radiation.\n\n\"Okay. But tomorrow—that's it. The last of the water. We'll have two, maybe three more days before . . . \" Archie didn't even bother to finish the sentence.\n\nZinovy looked around for a place to sit. The dazzling atmosphere pounded on the back of his eyes and his stomach churned. The pain was not excruciating—yet. The pain would stop them all, eventually, but until then they could do nothing but stagger on, moving from one impossible situation to the next.\n\nArchie slumped to the ground onto a patch of jade-colored leaves and Zinovy dropped down beside him. \"You know, we're going to die out here,\" Archie said quietly. \"There's no solution to this water shortage problem.\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"I know.\" He assumed the look—the stony look he reserved for things especially unpleasant—the look that gave him the iron-hard strength he needed to endure. But the questions remained. Finally, he spoke the words he'd been thinking for the past four weeks. \"I wonder what the point is. If it will all end tomorrow, everything we do is a total waste. We're just going through the motions. Why do we go on?\"\n\nArchie said nothing. Zinovy rested his aching head on his knees.\n\n\"Come on,\" Archie said. \"Let's get in line for supper.\"\n\n\"You go. I'll come soon.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't hungry. He couldn't imagine ever being hungry again. Then Caleb was beside him, crouching on little legs, beaming into his face and, as usual, talking non-stop. \"Hi Novy. I was looking for you. What are you doing? I'm hungry. Can we eat?\"\n\nThe child had become a nuisance. He hardly left Zinovy's side. The others teased him. \"So, Zinovy, where's your sidekick?\" Eric would ask whenever Caleb was not around. Archie called him \"the little appendage.\" \"I see the little appendage is up early this morning,\" he'd say, grinning down at the boy and then up at the chagrin on Zinovy's face.\n\nZinovy looked around. Sara was nowhere to be seen. It seemed he was stuck with the boy. Again.\n\nFor some reason, Sara seemed to have accepted Caleb's affinity for him. She'd allowed the friendship, only dragging the child away when Zinovy was occupied with business that needed his undivided attention. The situation annoyed him, but he couldn't do much without hurting the little fellow. So he stood, gripped the small fingers, and pulled the boy ahead of him to the chow line.\n\nZinovy ate only a few spoonfuls. The boy finished his own bowl and then, seeing the other neglected beside him, finished that too. Zinovy watched him, distracted for a moment by the exhibition of digestive energy. Then he looked around.\n\n\"Archie, will you keep Caleb? I want to go check on Grace.\"\n\nHe plunked the boy down beside the commander and left in the direction of the cart, but before he'd gone halfway, Caleb was by his side again. He grabbed Zinovy's hand, swung around it, and stopped in front of him. Looking up into Zinovy's face with eager anticipation he said, \"Novy, he told me to help you. He said you need help and I know how to help you.\"\n\n\"Who told you that?\" Zinovy asked.\n\nThe boy pointed a finger in the general direction of the camp. \"He told me. He said I should say about the—\"\n\nZinovy's gaze followed the finger. \"Which one, Caleb?\" Three people stood where the boy pointed.\n\n\"The bright one,\" Caleb said. Zinovy crouched down to the child's level and looked into his face. \"Do you mean Mr. Berry?\"\n\n\"No, no, no.\" Caleb said, exasperated. \"Not Mr. Archie, or Mr. Charles or Mr. Eric. It's the bright one.\"\n\nSara came through a nearby thicket and Zinovy stood up. \"Sara, keep him with you, please.\" He disengaged his hand from the child's and went to look for Grace. The boy meant well. He obviously sensed their distress and wanted to do something about it. Zinovy almost envied him his invisible friend. He could use one himself about now.\n\nHe found Grace lying on a mound of grass so thick it was more like tall moss. They'd found these tufts all along as they'd traveled through the groves. The mounds were difficult to walk through, but made excellent resting places when it was time to stop.\n\n\"How are you?\" he asked, seeing the answer in her face and not liking it.\n\nShe tried to smile. \"I'm okay. I'll be better after I sleep.\"\n\nThe image of the sleeping bodies they'd wrapped in sheets on the shuttle passed through his memory and he cringed. He'd changed since they'd landed. Somewhere along the way there'd been a malfunction of the rational defenses. He remembered his last encounter with Sara. The word 'please' had come easily to his lips. He'd never been that way before. In the military, they'd used only necessary words. The niceties were a waste of breath. He resolved to watch his vocabulary more closely. In this world no breath could be wasted.\n\nThat night the group sat around after dinner talking. Archie passed on the information they'd received from Adam and they assessed the situation. \"You fellows are doing well, I see,\" he said to Zinovy's crew.\n\nThe five boys nodded. They'd recovered remarkably well. Zinovy wondered, idly, why some of them had remained untouched by the misery. Mike, Alex and Raheem were okay. Eric was fine. So were the Muellers and Sara. Carter was grumpy, but functioning. Grace was still the big worry.\n\n\"We'll continue on tomorrow then,\" Archie said. \"Radiation levels have stabilized somewhat so that's good.\"\n\nZinovy knew Archie wasn't being totally honest. True, the readings had stabilized, but they'd done so at an extremely high level. Archie was right not to point that out. The less the others had to worry about the more energy they'd have for the trip.\n\n* * *\n\nThe next morning they couldn't find Grace.\n\nZinovy searched the perimeter of the compound, moving in increasingly widening circles around her bedroll until he could no longer see the campsite. She was nowhere.\n\nSara and Caleb were gone as well, but their disappearances had become routine. They'd be gone most of the morning, show up for a while just after lunch, then they'd leave again. He'd quit worrying about them. But Grace was another matter. She'd been too weak to go far. The thought that she might have gone off to die, like a wounded animal, flitted through his mind but he brushed it away.\n\nHe went to find Archie and they discussed what to do. \"You go on with the others,\" Zinovy said. \"I'll stay and look. I don't want to leave her.\"\n\n\"I don't know. Separation is risky. How will you find us later?\"\n\n\"I could borrow a compass from one of the twins.\" Ruben and Simon had identical key rings with small compasses attached—a gift from their parents on their last birthday.\n\n\"I guess you could do that.\" Archie pondered. \"We need to make time. The radiation is worse this morning so I think we'll head east again. We'll have to go north eventually, when we get closer to the city, but we need to find a less lethal path until we get past whatever environment we're dealing with.\"\n\nSo after a hasty breakfast Zinovy collected the compass, re-checked his directions with Archie, and headed out on his search. The rest of the crew broke camp and moved on.\n\nZinovy's alarm grew as time passed with still no sign of Grace. She couldn't have gone far. She hadn't the strength. There were no crevices she could have fallen into and no crannies she could hide in. He was about to give up when he saw her. He took one look and groaned.\n\nShe lay on the grass about twenty feet away, curled up in the fetal position with her back to him. One arm was slung over her head as if she'd been defending herself. He hurried to her and bent down, afraid to touch her, afraid to feel the lightness of her body—to feel her flesh crumble away under his fingers like the dust of the aromatic talc she had loved so much to smell. He looked, instead, into her face, and recoiled from the shock.\n\nThe change astounded him. The haggard look was gone. The dark circles were gone. Her skin was flushed and moist. As he stared, dumfounded, she woke.\n\nShe smiled, sat up and looked around. \"Where is everybody?\" she asked. \"Is it time to go? I feel so good. I had such a good night's sleep.\"\n\nZinovy continued to stare at her, mouth hanging open. Finally he found his voice. \"We've been looking for you. The others went on, but I stayed because you weren't at camp. You've been missing.\"\n\n\"Missing? Nonsense. I've been here all along.\" She frowned. \"Wait. Maybe not. I seem to remember.\" She rubbed her temples. \"Sara. Sara came to me. I was feeling awful. It was so bad I'm not sure I remember right. Maybe I was dreaming.\" She stopped and looked up at Zinovy. Then she went on. \"I think Sara poured some water in my face. But that's nonsense too. Why would she have done that? It must have been a dream.\"\n\nZinovy hid his amazement. There had to be a rational explanation for her absence and for the change in her appearance, but they would have to talk about it later. \"Do you feel well enough to travel? We need to catch up with the crew.\"\n\n\"Oh yes. I feel great.\"\n\nSo Zinovy checked his bearings and they set off to intersect the route Archie would be taking.\n\nGrace talked as they went, frowning, remembering. \"I think I walked some distance. I don't know when, but I have this vague recollection. That was before the water. Sara was there, urging me on, supporting me when I stumbled through the brush.\" She stopped abruptly and looked up at him. \"Do you know what else? I think I ate a plant.\"\n\n\"You what?\" Zinovy jerked to a standstill and gawked at her.\n\n\"I did it almost without thinking. I guess I wasn't quite awake. But I remember it tasted good, a little nutty, like crisp asparagus. No offense to the cooks, but it was the best food I've had since we landed,\" she said, with a grin.\n\n\"You must have dreamed it. You were hungry and in your dream you wanted to eat. That's natural enough.\" He studied Grace again, noting the glow on her cheeks. Then he shrugged. He was beyond being surprised by anything. Grace was exuberant, and so he deliberately put his fears aside. For now, his friend was better. Though the symptoms would return, he was glad for the respite. They walked briskly in the morning brightness, Grace enjoying the new strength in her legs, and Zinovy eager to catch up with the crew.\n\nThat brightness seemed to increase with each step. The tints deepened as well. Before they'd gone far, the intensity of the air became almost palpable. Late that afternoon, in light more intense than they'd seen yet, they heard the noises of their comrades up ahead.\n\nToo soon, by Zinovy's calculations. The others should have been much farther by now. Something had stopped them early. Maybe the crew had decided to wait for them. But, no. The noise was restless and active. He heard shouts and barked orders. \"Come on,\" he said to Grace. \"Let's hurry.\"\n\nThey broke through into a hastily prepared camp to find Archie gathering the others for a serious conference.\n\n* * *\n\nArchie looked up. \"Oh Zinovy, I'm glad you're here.\"\n\n\"What's happening?\"\n\n\"Hi Grace,\" Archie added, almost as an afterthought. Then he explained. \"We were going east, as per the plan, when we came up against this large land mass. Come and take a look.\"\n\nHe led Zinovy out of the camp, through a clump of tall trees and into a clearing that stretched north and south as far as they could see. Zinovy whistled through his teeth. Across the clearing a cliff rose, almost vertical and at least a hundred meters high. The clearing was narrow, and the land mass hovered over them, like a giant storm cloud, with no indication of a break anywhere along its broad length. The top of the cliff appeared to be a high plateau. Greenery spilled over the edge along its full length. Shrubbery, Zinovy noted, not trees, with vines trailing down the sides here and there like icing on a badly decorated cake, but nothing tentacling down far enough that they could reach it. The two stood for some time, gazing at the sight.\n\n\"When we got here, I sent Simon and Ruben south, to scout out a possible route around it. Alex and Mike went to the north. They all came back with bad news,\" Archie said with a frown.\n\nThe twins had gone four miles and found no visible end to the embankment. The route along the base of the land mass had turned west in the end and brought them back almost to the path the crew had been following all day, continuing on from that point as far south as they could see.\n\nAlex and Mike had even worse news.\n\n\"Have you noticed a change in the air?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"Yes, we did. It's much brighter.\"\n\nArchie nodded. \"And more active. While the boys were exploring, Carter checked the instruments. We've got radiation levels over the top again.\"\n\n\"How much over?\"\n\n\"We don't know. It's not measurable.\" Archie grimaced. \"When the scouts from the north got back we discovered why.\"\n\nAlex and Mike hadn't gone far along the base of the escarpment before they'd run into a river. Archie shook his head. \"They say mists above the stream are brilliant, steaming with radioactive particles. Radiation from the river must have been pouring up against this bluff and then streaming down toward us all day.\" Even as they watched, the swirls of radiation reached out and touched them, enveloping them in rainbow-colored arms.\n\n\"What do we do now?\" Zinovy asked.\n\nArchie shook his head. \"I don't know. We'll have to talk about it.\"\n\nThe two went back to camp and Archie held his meeting. The mood was as intense as the mists surrounding them. Even Eric was subdued. Zinovy listened, for what seemed like the hundredth time, to another string of impossible options.\n\nThey couldn't go east over the land barrier. Raheem suggested they might try scaling the walls, but all four of the scouts said they'd looked for footholds and found none.\n\nGoing north would lead them further into the deadly atmosphere. Unless they wanted a painfully quick end to their misery, that option was unacceptable.\n\nHeading west made no sense. It would not lead them to lower radiation levels, or anywhere else for that matter.\n\nThey could turn south. That would take them back where they came from. Going back was probably the most reasonable option, but it was hard to consider now that they'd come this far. Nothing awaited them back at Canaveral either.\n\nIt was getting late. The mist, and the foreboding it held, pressed in around them, suffocating any last vestiges of hope they'd managed to hang onto. No one expressed an interest in supper so the dejected pilgrims settled down for the night, collapsing on whatever tufts of moss or grass they could find, each in turn gradually drifting off into a fitful sleep. Only Archie, Zinovy and Grace remained awake.\n\n\"What do you think?\" Archie asked quietly as they sat together in the deep, colorful glow of the midnight hour. \"Should we go back?\"\n\nZinovy considered. \"I don't think anyone has the heart for that,\" he said, finally.\n\n\"We could try somewhere else. Perhaps south along the embankment. It would have to open up to the east eventually,\" Archie said.\n\n\"We don't know that it would. We don't know the topography of this land.\"\n\nThey thought for a moment. Then Archie groaned, threw his hands in the air, and said, \"You know, we might as well just toss the dice to make our decision.\" He slumped. \"What kind of a leader am I anyway? I have no wisdom for this situation.\"\n\nZinovy studied the commander's contorted face. The man needed encouragement, but Zinovy had none to give.\n\nGrace spoke up. \"I'm not sure there is wisdom for this situation,\" she said. \"It's an extraordinary circumstance. You can't be expected to know what to do.\" The Commander's distressed look remained. Grace went on. \"You've done a good job, Archie. You've gotten us this far.\" She paused, thinking, then added, \"Maybe, from here on out, it's not so important where we go. What's important is that we go. We have to keep going until we can't any more. That's all we can do.\"\n\nArchie studied her face and she continued. \"You need to see your role in a new light now I think. The decisions you make will be less important than the way you lead us through them.\"\n\nShe was right, Zinovy thought. The only thing about their fate any of them could control, at this point, was the way they would go to their end. It had been that way from the beginning.\n\nArchie sighed. \"Thanks,\" he said. \"You've helped.\" Then he dismissed the other two. \"Get some sleep. You'll need it. I've made up my mind about what to do tomorrow.\"\n\n* * *.\n\nZinovy woke with a start. He bolted upright and found Berry leaning over him.\n\n\"Shh. It's all right. I just wanted to let you know that I'm taking Alex and Mike and heading out for the river. I want to check it out, see if there might be a way we can get across to the other side somehow.\"\n\nZinovy looked to the east. Irradiated air continued to swirl through the trees toward them, great wafting clouds of it in the deep tones of early morning dawn.\n\n\"Do you want me to go instead?\" he asked.\n\n\"No. I want to see firsthand what we'll be up against.\"\n\nZinovy nodded. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and squinted into the growing brightness. Archie went on. \"You stay here. If for some reason we don't make it back by mid-day, you'd better not come that way. Take the others and head back, or go south along the cliff or something.\" Again Zinovy nodded, and Archie was off with his scouts.\n\nZinovy lay down, mustering the ambition to make his next move. The air caressed his bare arms softly, pretending to be gentle, but he was a rational man—he knew better. His stomach growled violently, threatening to turn him inside out, but years of mental and physical discipline came to his rescue. He shook the hair out of his eyes, rubbed his beard vigorously, and pushed his sluggish body into the semblance of an upright position. Then it was easier. Habit took over. He performed whatever personal hygiene he could manage without water, rolled up his blanket, and went to wake the others.\n\nThe boys were the nearest. He examined the eight young bodies sprawled haphazardly on the grass at his feet. They were breathing deeply and slowly, their faces aglow in the morning air. Zinovy frowned. He hated to disturb the forgetfulness of their slumber, but the inevitable processes of life, of death, would continue to demand their due, no matter what. They needed to prepare for the day. He leaned down and shook Conrad's shoulder.\n\nSoon they were all up and around. Zinovy took inventory. Everyone seemed to be mobile. Carter rummaged in the supply cart for something to eat. Simon and Ruben fiddled with the new vine ropes they'd attached to the cart's harness the day before. The ropes had a short shelf life.\n\nEmery, Conrad and Graham munched aggressively on their cereal bars. Nothing, it seemed, disturbed their voracious young appetites for long.\n\nRaheem headed for Grace's sleeping area with a canteen of the precious water in his hand—the last of it as far as Zinovy knew. He approved. It was going to a good cause.\n\nEric appeared at the edge of the camp, on his way back from an answer to nature's call, and Mark and Michelle murmured to the children, readying their troop for the day.\n\n\"Where are Sara and Caleb?\" Zinovy asked as Mark passed by on his way to the food cache.\n\nMark shrugged. \"I haven't seen them this morning.\"\n\nSo the two wanderers were gone again. Everything was functioning normally, it seemed.\n\nWhen they were all assembled, Zinovy reported on Archie's whereabouts and told them of their commander's plans for the day. They loaded the cart, then sat down to await their marching orders. Grace caught Zinovy's eye across the gathering and grinned at him. She looked eager to go. The rest were lost in their own thoughts, except for the children, who romped around the periphery of the temporary compound, impatient to get started on the day's great adventure.\n\nThey didn't have long to wait. In no time, Archie was back.\n\nHe barked orders as he came through the trees. \"All right everybody, we need to get a move on.\n\n\"Zinovy, I hope you're packed. Good. I'll explain as we walk.\n\n\"Mark, you and the women can follow behind the rest of us with the children. We have some preparations to make up ahead before we can go very far.\"\n\n\"Charles, where's the saw? Did you get it ready like I told you? How's the power supply? We've got a big cutting job to do and we can't afford to run out of power halfway through.\n\n\"Alex, come over here. I want you to stay behind with the Muellers and Grace. Where are Sara and Caleb? Has anyone seen them? Well, we can't wait. We need to get going. We're heading out directly north from here.\"\n\nArchie whirled and headed toward the edge of the clearing. \"Eric, you'd better take up the rear. Keep everybody hopping. I don't want to lose anybody and I don't want to dawdle either. Zinovy, come with me.\"\n\nThe group scrambled to their feet, collected their backpacks and formed a ragged line behind Archie as he took off into the brush. Simon and Ruben tugged at the cart. The vegetation had thinned out somewhat, but they still had to move carefully, looking for breaks in the shrubbery wide enough to accommodate their load.\n\n\"You blokes need to pick up the pace,\" Eric said to the twins as he came up behind them.\n\n\"We're pulling as hard as we can,\" Simon said with a grunt as he eased the cart over a large hump of mossy undergrowth. \"If it not fast enough to suit you, I'll gladly let you take over.\"\n\nEric finally gave up and went around, leaving them to make their way more slowly with Mark and the others, but when he caught up to Archie he was sent back to retrieve the saw.\n\n\"We need that saw at the head of the line,\" Archie said. \"Get it and bring it here on your back if you have to.\"\n\nThe main body of the crew was approaching a copse of trees too thick to pass through. As he and Zinovy made their way around it, Archie laid out his plan. \"The escarpment looks like it levels out farther up ahead. We should be able to head northeast once we get there.\"\n\n\"Meanwhile, we've found a spot along the river up here that's narrower—about fifty feet across. There are a couple of tall trees on the bank, right next to each other. I think we can cut them so they fall across the water and their tops should extend far enough out to land on the other side. Then we'll be able to walk across, and from there we can go on up the escarpment until we can head east again.\" He puffed from the exertion of the pace he was setting, but showed no signs of slowing down.\n\n\"When you see the river you'll understand why I'm in such a hurry,\" he said. \"We've got to get across and as far away from the atmosphere as possible. I figure this river has been coursing down through the contaminated landscape ever since the nuclear event. It's got to be carrying massive concentrations of the fallout. At least on the other side we'll be heading upwind of the air currents. That should help.\"\n\nThey trudged half a mile before Zinovy caught a glimpse of the river. Or the air above the river. He wasn't sure which. Whatever it was glistened with an intensity he'd never seen before. Yet there was no glare. He wasn't even tempted to squint. The air continued to sparkle around them as well, moving more erratically the closer they came to its source, as if gleefully anticipating the doom of these human interlopers who ventured so boldly into its domain.\n\nAnd then they were there.\n\nCHAPTER TWELVE\n\nIn spite of himself—in spite of Archie's urging to move forward with the task—Zinovy stood and stared, mesmerized by what he saw. It was the water that captivated his attention.\n\nAzure waves, tinged here and there with richer hues of sapphire and turquoise, tumbled down the gentle incline between the banks of the river at this narrower verge. The water laughed and gurgled as it bounded over cascades of boulders tossed carelessly down the riverbed like marbles from a giant hand. It greeted every obstacle in its path with glee, shouting its bright happiness as glistening spray into the air, scoffing at the challenge of the rocks in its path, running incorrigibly on into quieter pools below. Zinovy saw birds soaring above the surface, dipping in and out of the water, playing with the waves and dancing in the glittering air.\n\nArchie barked at him from up the river. He shook his head and dragged his feet over the ground before him, joining the others who already had the saw out and were getting ready to fell the first tree.\n\n\"We need a notch right there, Charles,\" Archie said. \"And another over here. The trees have to fall as close together as possible, their branches overlapping a tad.\" Archie looked back over his shoulder toward the trail. \"Hurry up. I want this bridge ready when the others get here. We need to get out of this concentrated radiation as soon as possible.\"\n\nThe cutting was easy. The saw sliced through the wood like a scalpel. Sawdust, fine and light, drifted on the air. Zinovy sneezed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.\n\n\"There, Conrad, Emery, give that one a push. It should go over just so.\"\n\nThe boys nudged the first tree and Zinovy watched it fall, slowly at first, as if reluctant to abandon its post, then faster, as resignation set in, until it's crown landed, with a booming crash, on the opposite bank. Then Carter began on the second.\n\nArchie walked around the others and positioned himself on the bank where he could see the path the second tree needed to take. He squinted across the span, then down at the notch Carter had sliced in the soft wood. \"All right. Make the cut. Quickly. We're spending too much time at this.\"\n\nCarter slashed through the wood. The tree began to topple. \"Push it that way, guys,\" Archie ordered, as the angle of the fall began to veer away from the target. Two of the boys pushed and the tree came down, bouncing twice on the springy turf of the far bank and settling into position alongside the first. Zinovy straightened, relief washing over him as he saw the bridge, straight and solid, spanning the deadly liquid that burbled below.\n\n\"All right. We need to get across. Are the others coming?\" Zinovy followed Archie's glance back down the empty trail. A gasp from Carter brought them back. He was staring at a puddle of molten metal on the ground at their feet. What was left of the saw evaporated before their eyes, filtering up into the sparkling, sawdust-saturated air around them.\n\n\"We've got to go—now.\" Archie bolted away from the spot.\n\nZinovy looked behind them. Where were the others? They should be there by now.\n\nThen he saw them, and the blood froze in his veins.\n\n* * *\n\nThey were below the bridge, down past the shimmering cascades, where the river broadened into a gently flowing stream. Zinovy counted three heads in the water—two glistening black and one small blond.\n\nAlex, the Muellers, and their two children stood on the bank, watching the swimmers as they splashed and paddled, seemingly unaware of the glittering death swirling around them. Alex, his hands on his hips, was saying something to one of the swimming heads. Then Zinovy gasped as the truth dawned on him.\n\nSara stood, waist deep in the water, squinted at Alex, and answered. Then she waded across to the other two, gathered Caleb up in her arms, and the three of them, Sara, Grace and Caleb, moved to the bank. Mark reached down for Caleb and Alex took Sara's hand and pulled her up the bank, leaving Grace to clamber out on her own. Caleb ran to the two other children, shaking himself like a dog, laughing at their squeals as the bright water showered glistening rainbows over their bodies, wetting them from head to toe.\n\nZinovy's flesh crawled. He stared, dumbfounded for a moment, then he cursed. How could she be so senseless? A rush of anguish, disguised as anger, swept through him. His throat twisted into a painful knot that moved down his body and lodged somewhere behind his breastbone, almost stopping his heart.\n\n\"Alex, get over here, now,\" Archie called across the water.\n\nAlex put his hand up in a gesture that said, \"Wait,\" and turned back to say something to Sara.\n\nArchie grabbed Zinovy's arm. \"Come on. We can't wait. We've got to think about the others.\"\n\nZinovy pulled away from Archie's grasp. The girl looked up and saw them, surveyed the bridge they'd made and glanced up where the two trees used to stand. Then she started to run. The others came behind her more slowly, but she sped up, racing as if against time, trying to call out.\n\nThe sound of the river swallowed her words.\n\nThen she stopped, and Zinovy stood transfixed, watching as she ran back to the shallows, grabbed something off the bank, and once more dipped down into the azure poison. She emerged with a canteen full of water, brimming over as she stumbled across the grass, intent on screwing the cap on before any of the noxious liquid splashed out. Rage overwhelmed Zinovy. He started forward, determined to reach her, to send that canteen flying back toward its fetid source, but he couldn't move. Archie held him back.\n\n\"We've lost them, Zinovy. There's nothing we can do for them. We must survive.\"\n\nWhy? The question resounded through Zinovy's brain. Why do we have to survive? The struggle engulfed him. He closed his eyes, weary with life and with fighting so hard to maintain it. Someone shook him, and he opened his eyes.\n\n\"Are you with us or not?\" Archie shouted into his ear.\n\nDeliberately he turned to follow the others, dragging his limbs, heavy with despair, wrestling against the continuing tug of war between his head and his heart. Finally he broke into a run, moving on with the crew, distancing himself from the danger. Distancing himself from the distraction, the vulnerability, the emotions that were even more frightening than the river, and at least as dangerous.\n\nOne last irresistible urge to look back. He saw her, standing still now, clutching the canteen and staring back at him. The stricken look on her face would haunt him for the rest of his life.\n\n* * *\n\nThey were well beyond the river now: Archie, Eric, Carter, five of the boys, and himself. The rest of their party were far behind. Simon and Ruben would be stuck on the far side of the bridge with the cart, and the Muellers, with Sara, Caleb and Alex, would soon be too sick to cross.\n\nThe denser vegetation had thinned. A broad, smooth meadow of lime green grass and moss stretched out before them. The survivors ran at first. They covered a couple of miles before the radiation began to dissipate. Then they slowed to a fast walk. Zinovy lost track of time. After a while—it must have been hours later—Archie stopped them for the night.\n\nZinovy had looked back once more on the way, but saw no sign of the stragglers. He resolutely disciplined his mind, pushing away thoughts of the agony they would be going through, as the intensity of the radiation at the river completed its work on their bodies.\n\nHe stumbled as he pulled off his backpack, and his exhausted mind and body collapsed almost simultaneously. He lay where he fell, in a velvety patch of green almost fifteen miles from the scene of his anguish and that much closer to his final destination. His last thoughts were of the girl.\n\nOr were they his first? He woke with a start. His arms had fallen asleep. He tried to lift them, but they were heavy as iron. Then the pain began, surging through his veins like molten lava.\n\nHe rolled over onto his side and squinted across the field at the others, each one writhing on his own verdant bed. Zinovy fought for control, and through it all, like a distant bell, he heard her voice.\n\nThe pain took over then, replacing everything until, in a flash of understanding, he realized what was happening. The insight came as an image, not a thought—a vision of decayed flesh, hollow eyes—a vision of the face of Chernobyl. Then she was there, leaning over him, tipping the canteen.\n\n\"No!\" he bellowed, flinging his arm across his face in one last surge of energy, one last desperate outrage against the end.\n\nShe recoiled and he heard someone say, \"He's still here. Wait a minute and then you can do it.\"\n\nShe was his mother, waiting to claim him, to drag him down to the hell of her demented ravings before the soldiers had taken her away.\n\nThen the blackness.\n\nThen nothing.\n\n* * *\n\nSara stood on the bank staring after them, holding the canteen out as if they might come back for it. Alex came up behind her and she half turned to him, then looked back across the river where the men were growing smaller, their taut bodies moving quickly, disappearing, one by one, into the trees.\n\nShe was dumbfounded. \"What are they doing? Why are they running away?\"\n\n\"I told you,\" Alex said. \"You should have explained about the water long ago. They think it's polluted. Why didn't you tell us?\"\n\nSara looked up into his irritated face and thought for a minute. Should she tell him? What could she say? Whatever she said would be the wrong thing, and it didn't matter now anyway. Finally she looked down, turned on her heel and stalked back toward the others who were making their way along the bank toward her at a leisurely pace.\n\n\"They've gone,\" she said. \"Took off like scared rabbits.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Mark replied. \"We saw.\" He was busy trying to corral the three little ones who were scrambling around his feet, Caleb chasing the other two with a stick.\n\nSara took Caleb's hand and pulled him away. \"Well, what do we do now? They're going to be in trouble if they keep heading away from the river. I can't believe they made such a mess of those trees. Don't they know how dangerous it is?\"\n\nAlex had come up behind her. \"How could they? None of us knew a thing about how this planet works until today. No one but you, that is.\" He turned to Mark. \"I can't believe how this little brat has held out on us. She could have saved us a lot of trouble by explaining some things.\"\n\nMark looked down at her with something like reproach in his eyes. Could that be? She couldn't ever remember his scolding her before, even when she deserved it.\n\n\"He's right, honey.\" The words were gentle, yet serious. \"If you knew about the river, and the danger of destroying the vegetation, you should have told them long ago. They've been worried about the water supply almost from the beginning. Why did you keep it to yourself?\"\n\nShe didn't answer. It wouldn't make any sense to these men. They wouldn't understand how much she had needed the refuge of the river—how important it was for her to have a safe place—a place away from everyone where she could let down her guard for a while.\n\nShe ducked her head, hiding from Mark's probing gaze. Finally she said, \"I would have told them. I was going to, as soon as their water was gone. I was going to tell them today, but they took off before I could get back to camp.\"\n\nAlex planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. \"Nothing like waiting until the last minute.\"\n\nHe was winding up for another round of accusations when Caleb, whose ears were the keenest, said, \"What's that noise?\"\n\nThe men turned in the direction of Caleb's pointing finger and Michelle drew the children closer. Muffled voices, irritable, impatient, filtered through the shrubbery along the bank, coming closer, rising to a high pitch. Then the bushes began to quiver and Simon and Ruben came stumbling through. The cart pushed them both forward when it reached the slope beside the river. They leaned hard to slow it down, then they glanced up at the small crowd of people before them and saw the river beyond.\n\nIf the situation hadn't been so serious it would have been funny—the looks on the twins' faces when they saw the river—the instant change from irritation to amazement. The river had been part of her existence for so long she'd forgotten what an overwhelming sensation it made at first. But instead of laughing she sighed. From now on the river would belong to everyone. She also sighed, a little, for shame. She knew she'd been wrong to keep it to herself for so long.\n\n\"What the . . . \" Simon began. \"Where did this river come from?\"\n\nThe others explained, Alex finishing off with a scathing indictment of Sara's strange silence about the river. The twins stared at her, questions in their eyes, until Mark intervened, taking charge of the situation. \"We can't stay here. We've got to get going.\"\n\nHe turned to the twins: \"The rest of the crew headed off on the other side of the river. If Sara's assessment is right they won't make it far before they begin getting sick. We need to get some of the river water to them right away.\"\n\nHe disentangled Jenna's arms from his legs and passed her off to Michelle. \"Sara, you and Alex collect a couple of canteens and go after them. I'll stay here with Michelle and the kids. Grace, maybe you should stay too. There's no need for us all to go. They'll have to come back here before we go any farther anyway.\" Then, to the twins again, \"You two can either go with or stay here.\"\n\nThe twins elected to stay. They were tired after pulling the cart through the heavy underbrush and they were consumed with curiosity about the river. The children had gone back in the water. \"Come play,\" Caleb called. So Simon scrambled down the bank and Ruben followed.\n\nAfter some hesitation—still cautious because of the waves of radiation washing over their heads—the boys drank long drafts of the sweet, cool water. Then they splashed around with the children, laughing and shoving each other under.\n\nSara watched as she filled her canteen, pushing away twinges of guilt, increasingly alarmed as she realized what her selfish secrecy might end up costing the others. Alex brought two more water containers from the cart and filled them both at the same time, one in each hand. Then the two of them waded across the river and headed in the direction the others had gone.\n\nThe path was clear. The escarpment stretched to the north as far as she could see, though its outline began to soften in the distance and it looked as if it would eventually descend to run level with the land they were traveling through.\n\nAs they started out, Sara looked up at the precipice above them. The ridge had been broken by the river in this place and a broad valley funneled the sparkling water down onto the plain below. The width of the break indicated that the river had been broader at one time. Now it cascaded gently from the top of the bluff down over a series of small waterfalls until it reached the level ground near where the crew had created their bridge.\n\nThe men had headed off along the bluff to the north, away from the bright cataract. Alex and Sara followed the outline of the bluff as well. They ran at first, needing to make up for lost time.\n\nSara was glad for the exercise. Glad for the excuse not to talk. Alex had said enough. She had an uneasy feeling there would be more said once they got where they were going. Archie wouldn't be a problem. He'd always been courteous to her, and concerned for her welfare. She couldn't imagine him ever getting angry. But the Russian was another thing. He frightened her. He had from the first. She avoided him as much as she could, though Caleb made that difficult.\n\nShe couldn't understand the boy's attraction to the strange man. Maybe it was the resemblance. Caleb's father had been tall and dark as well, with the same swarthy complexion and the same piercing eyes. But, no, it was something beyond that. The two had a connection of some kind. She'd thought the affinity was all on the boy's side, but now she remembered the look in those intense, anguished eyes as they had stared across the river at her earlier that day. He'd looked at Caleb as if his heart were being ripped out. He'd started to come back for them, until Archie pulled him away.\n\nEven so, she didn't want to face him alone. She'd go with Alex long enough to rescue them all, then she'd go back to the others. She wanted to be with Mark when she had to deal with the consequences of her deceit. Mark had always made things easier for her. He was the only man she could trust.\n\nOh, why did life have to be so complicated? Why did she have to fight so hard just to survive? She tripped over a hummock and caught herself, plunging on to catch up with Alex. She couldn't afford regrets at the moment. She had to make plans. When this was over she needed to escape again. Now that the Muellers were around, Caleb would be all right. She could just leave him with them and head off. She'd be okay by herself. Constant vigilance had become second nature to her. She would make it, she was sure, but it would take all the resources she had. She dared not relax her guard for a minute.\n\n* * *\n\nSara and Alex traveled five hours without stopping, moving fast, fortified by the life-giving water they'd had that morning at the river. But somewhere along the way, another figure had joined them. Sara startled and nearly stumbled when she first noticed him at her elbow. Seeing it was only Elan, however, she recouped and continued, easily matching her steps with his.\n\nHe was a strange person. She'd only talked to him once. Caleb, not surprisingly, had been the cause of their meeting. She had no idea when Caleb had first met him. The two seemed to know each other well, but Caleb could be that way with almost anybody. He was an innocent babe in many ways, but he also had an instinct—an innate awareness that gave him a sense of who could be trusted and who couldn't.\n\nSara trusted Caleb's instincts most of the time, and she shared his positive assessment of Elan. She glanced at Alex. He didn't seem aware of the newcomer. She turned back to Elan, checking to make sure he was not a mirage. Sometimes he seemed almost so.\n\nThe three moved through the twilight of early evening and on into the dusky brightness of the night until, finally, they came upon the hastily bivouacked crew. Then they went to work.\n\nIn spite of herself, she was drawn first to the Russian. He lay a little apart from the others. She recognized his huge form as soon as she entered the clearing. He'd obviously fallen in the act of running. His body lay crumpled as if his legs had simply given way under him. She ran to his side, uncapping the canteen as she went. As she bent over to pour the water in his face, his eyes opened and he looked up at her.\n\nShe would never forget what she saw there.\n\nThe look devastated her, broke through her reserve. It was as if, for a split second, he were as vulnerable as she. The distance, the haughtiness, the stern composure she'd always seen in his face was gone. In its place she read heartbreak, vulnerability, fear.\n\nHe lashed out at her, and she drew back, realigning her defenses. Then he collapsed again, unconscious, or worse. They had been too long getting there. The fatal disease was in its last stages.\n\nShe leaned down, cautiously at first, then more boldly, and poured half the canteen of water into his face.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy was in heaven. Impossible to believe, but he had to be. He'd never felt so at peace.\n\nHe lay quietly, afraid to break the spell. But soon the noises of the camp around him began to intrude—a voice, soft in the distance, a rustling of grass near his feet, and the ever-present bird song in the trees above his head. He opened his eyes, slowly and deliberately, to the same world he'd left. Not heaven, but wondrously pain-free and beautiful nonetheless.\n\nShadowy memories of the night before flitted in and out of his mind—nightmarish memories full of terrifying wraiths and excruciating pain. Slowly the shadows disappeared and reason returned. He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked around for Archie.\n\nThe commander stood with several others near a copse of trees whose branches flared out in graceful sweeps around them, dipping low as if to caress their shoulders. Carter was there, and Eric. So was Sara. When he saw her, the strange memories returned for a moment. Then his mind cleared and he got up and walked over to join them.\n\nSara glanced his way as he came. Her eyes widened and she turned as if to leave, but Eric took her arm and spoke into her ear, and she moved back, eyed Zinovy once more, then stepped closer to Eric, eyes downcast. Why was she always so damnably elusive? Whenever he came near, she acted like he was going to attack her or something.\n\nCarter was talking when he came up. \"It's radiation we're breathing, that's for sure. I'm just not sure it's nuclear.\"\n\n\"But it must be ionising radiation of some sort,\" Archie said. \"And at these levels it has to be dangerous.\"\n\n\"It is radiation, but it's not dangerous.\"\n\nZinovy started. He hadn't noticed Elan's presence until he spoke.\n\n\"This is a type of radiation you're not familiar with,\" Elan said.\n\n\"What kind is it?\" Zinovy asked.\n\nElan smiled. \"It's Life, Zinovy. It's Life.\"\n\nZinovy bristled. \"That's a ridiculous answer. It can't be just 'life.' I've never heard anything so stupid. Haven't you heard of a thing called 'science'? It explains the world in rational terms. 'Life' is not an explanation for the radiation in that river.\"\n\nElan's smile softened. He studied Zinovy for a moment, then he spoke. \"There is a scientific explanation, but if I gave it you wouldn't understand. You don't have the vocabulary.\"\n\nZinovy stiffened. \"I am a scientist. I understand the vocabulary.\"\n\nElan continued, even more gently, \"The vocabulary you know is useful only in a four-dimensional world. It's not adequate to explain what's happening in this new environment. In time you'll learn the new science. Until then, you will do well to accept my more literal explanations.\"\n\nLiteral? Zinovy controlled the urge to shout at him. His explanation was the opposite of literal. And no matter what he said about life, malevolence had to surround them. The sickness they'd suffered proved that.\n\nElan spoke again. \"You don't need to be afraid of the water.\" The words bubbled out of his mouth and suddenly the air was full of—what?\n\nJoy. That was the only way to describe it. Zinovy's mind struggled to remain aware as the sights and sounds and smells of happiness swirled around him. He must not give in to the elation flowing from Elan's mouth. He gritted his teeth and dragged the conversation back to solid ground. \"Why did we get so sick then? What made us sick if it was not the mist or air?\"\n\n\"That I can explain.\" Elan said.\n\nOut of the corner of his eye, Zinovy saw Sara looking at him. Her eyes narrowed. He could almost hear her thinking, \"You should have figured this out by now, mister know-it-all.\" She spoke before Elan could go on. \"It's the tree cutting, didn't you know? The plants make you sick if you abuse them.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"You should never have cut down those trees.\"\n\nCarter sneered. \"That's ridiculous. Are you trying to tell us those trees were poisonous?\"\n\nZinovy's mind ground away on the data. Could it be true? Possibly. The trees might contain a concentration of the radiation that would be released into the air with their cutting. Like spores scattered from a ripe flower. But, no, Elan said the radiation was not a problem.\n\nZinovy was stymied. But one thing was sure. The girl had been holding out on them—withholding useful information. He turned on her. \"How do you know it's the cutting? And if you knew, why didn't you tell us?\"\n\nShe glared back. \"Because you'd already chopped the trees down before we got to you.\"\n\nHe could match her tone. \"I mean before that. Before, when the boys got sick, and then Grace.\"\n\n\"I wasn't there then. I didn't know about all that.\"\n\nZinovy didn't respond. He was thinking—going back over the history of the illness among them. That first night after they'd left the ship—when they were all so sick—what had they been doing? Nothing. Then the vision of Carter, plodding back to the ship with plant roots trailing out of his specimen bag, flashed before him. He'd brought the vegetation into the ship where they were sleeping.\n\nAnd the Canaveral crew—he remembered their moans the morning after their first night in the outside air. They'd been chopping trees that day to build the shelter.\n\nElan entered the discussion again. \"Remember when you began your journey I said you were free to use anything you found as long as you didn't destroy it?\"\n\nZinovy nodded. He did remember—when Carter was being so impatient with the vegetation. Elan had tried to talk them out of taking the saw then too, but no one was inclined to listen.\n\n\"But that does not explain the sickness in Grace. She was not involved in the destruction.\"\n\n\"No, she wasn't. But she received the results,\" Elan said. \"Remember Raheem's gifts?\"\n\nOf course. The aromatic sawdust. First one kind, then the other. As the pieces fell into place, a hot anger rose up in Zinovy, like a giant tidal wave. All the emotions they'd had to wrestle with—all their checking of the instruments, the tissue testing, the wondering when the poison would finally take its toll. All that had been unnecessary—a waste of time and energy.\n\nZinovy hated waste.\n\n\"You!\" He whirled on the girl. \"You knew this from the first. You knew about the river and the cause of the sickness. You knew . . . \" He glanced at Elan. \"Is this river water drinkable?\"\n\nElan nodded.\n\nZinovy turned back. \"You've been drinking it all along, then. Sneaking off to the river while we were tearing our hair out worrying about the dwindling water supply. Were you laughing behind our backs? What did you plan to do when we died from thirst?\"\n\nWords deserted him, but the tension in his muscles didn't. He wanted to hit something. The only thing within reach was the girl, and that wouldn't do. He gritted his teeth and commanded his hands to unclench, his shoulders to relax. Then he glared down at her, ready to begin the verbal assault again.\n\nEric stepped up beside them. \"Hold on, Zinovy. Don't be so hard on her. She's had a pretty rough go.\"\n\nZinovy barely heard him. He was looking at the girl. Odd how her eyes were changing color—almost a cobalt blue now. She straightened, bringing the top of her head up to a height just under his chin. Her jaw trembled slightly, then she exploded.\n\nSome of the words she used he'd never heard before, and he thought he'd heard them all. She spouted for a solid thirty seconds before she took a breath. Eventually she circled around to the topic of Grace's recovery: \"I'm the one who fixed her. I'm the one who took her to the river—and carried the water back to her when she was too sick to make it all the way. I'm the one who tried to stop you from running away from the river. Then I carried the water to you, when you were miles away from it and dying because of your own gross stupidity. I'm the one who tried to pour it on you, but—oh, no, you wouldn't have it. I had to wait until you were too weak to fight. Then I saved your life. I wish I hadn't bothered! What a waste! What a waste of perfectly good water.\"\n\nShe stomped off. Zinovy turned to Elan, who smiled at the quizzical look on his face. Ignoring the question in Zinovy's eyes, Elan repeated himself.\n\n\"Don't be afraid of the river, Zinovy. It's good for you. It's good for all of us.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThey rested that day until late morning, then headed back to the river.\n\nThey didn't return to the tree bridge. Where they were now, the bluff that had blocked their way before was a gentle slope, so the way east was open before them. Elan suggested they move directly across the plain, assuring them they would reach the river more quickly that way.\n\n\"I will return to the bridge to get the others,\" he said. \"The cataracts on the river are navigable. We'll move up the waterfalls to the top of the plateau and join you farther upriver.\"\n\n\"How will we know the way?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"You won't be able to miss the river if you keep going east from here. It angles northeast from the bluff. You still have your instrument, don't you?\"\n\nArchie turned to Eric and Eric nodded. \"Last time I checked it was still operable. It's looking kind of frail, though.\"\n\n\"Speaking of which,\" Archie said to Elan, \"Why has all our equipment disintegrated? What is it that destroys everything?\"\n\n\"Not everything, right?\"\n\n\"Well, all our synthetics at least. Anything that's even an alloy of synthetic material just dissolves. Why is that? Is it the sawdust?\"\n\n\"No. The sawdust is damaging to living tissue. What's hard on synthetics is the glory.\"\n\n\"The what?\"\n\n\"The glory.\" Elan watched their faces, as if looking for some sign of intelligent life. It didn't come.\n\n\"It's the light,\" he explained. Still the blank looks.\n\n\"It's the river essence—the life.\"\n\nArchie glanced at Zinovy, the puzzle still in his eyes. Zinovy returned the look. It was still hard to believe the radiated iridescence they were taking into their lungs was good for them.\n\n\"Is there any water left?\" Archie asked Elan.\n\n\"The water you've had today will be enough to get you back to the river, and you'll also get plenty of moisture from the vegetation you're eating. Are there any other questions?\" He paused. \"Then I'll see you later today. We should meet up in the early gloaming if you get started soon.\" And he was gone.\n\nArchie and Zinovy stared after him. \"What's a 'gloaming?'\" Archie asked.\n\n\"I don't know. He's full of strange words today. Maybe it's something to do with the 'glory.'\"\n\n* * *\n\nSo they ate the plants. \"They're all edible,\" Elan had said. \"Try whatever you like. Don't collect more than you need at the moment. Anything extra you pick won't last. All organic matter disintegrates quickly after it's been removed from its life source. And harvest carefully. Remember that unnecessary destruction activates the enzymes that are poisonous.\"\n\nZinovy's first bite had been difficult. Putting anything in his mouth felt strange after the fast he'd been on, and eating vegetation that sparkled with radiation increased the strangeness beyond imagination. \"Good radiation,\" Zinovy grumbled to himself. \"It's an oxymoron.\" But the whole world was an oxymoron now.\n\nThough Elan left them with puzzling questions, some things began to make more sense. \"What Elan said about dead organic matter—that explains what happened to Redmond and Rudzinski,\" Zinovy said to Archie. \"When I opened the shuttle door to go out, the radiation came in. When I came back a couple days later, their bodies were already disintegrating. That's why they were only dust.\"\n\nArchie frowned. \"I don't like the idea that we can't store food. We don't know how sustainable this environment is. We need to be prepared for emergencies in case the supply dwindles.\"\n\nHe was right. Harvesting carefully was difficult. Zinovy fought the rational urge to hoard supplies, wondering at his own irrational decision to do so. Elan had said the food supply was unlimited. Again he shook his head at the strangeness and the wasted worry of the past days.\n\nCarter was even slower to give in to the new system. Before they headed out that day he made himself a rhubarb wrap—named, he said, for the tart flavor of its main ingredient—and stuck it in his backpack.\n\nSara had elected to go back to the bridge with Elan. Zinovy was glad to see her go. He was still annoyed, and there was no sign that her feelings about him had changed either. He'd keep his distance from now on. She was unstable. He didn't need that kind of influence in his life.\n\nCHAPTER THIRTEEN\n\nZinovy and Eric led the expedition to the river, following the GPS readings until noon when the instrument's screen went blank.\n\n\"Now what do we do?\" Eric said.\n\nZinovy grunted. The GPS was the last of their technology to go. The EVARM unit had gone the day before. Or rather it had been left. Conrad set it down at the river by the first tree they'd felled and in their panic to get away he'd forgotten it. They now had no way to measure the radiation around them, and no way to know where they were.\n\nArchie moved up beside them. \"That's it, then,\" he said. \"I hope Elan was right about the river being easy to find. Do you still have that compass you got from the boys, Zinovy?\"\n\nZinovy pulled the compass out of his pocket, looked at it and pointed. \"East is that way.\"\n\nArchie nodded. \"Then that's where we go.\"\n\nWave after wave of breathtaking beauty washed over Zinovy as they walked. He saw it all with new eyes now that the weight of concern about its danger had lifted. Color permeated everything, the hues growing richer and deeper as they moved closer to the river. Rose and fuchsia, magenta and mauve, violet and damson—a vast array of hues pulsated through the air, dancing in lazy swirls or playful curlicues, as if moved by puffs from a light summer breeze. Was there a breeze? Constant movement, but not really a breeze. Air alive, breathing, laughing. Zinovy shook his head, scattering the laughter, focusing again, determined to preserve his reason.\n\n\"Even the color of the vegetation is green like I've never seen before,\" Eric said, echoing Zinovy's thoughts. Too true. Mint and jade, emerald and turquoise, teal and aqua—every imaginable shade shimmered around him as Zinovy moved, spellbound, through giant forest groves, hummocks of waist-high shrubbery, or smooth, grassy meadows, vibrant with life. Filmy tendrils caressed his face in places where the plant life grew so thick and lush they had to go single file. Tender, springy mosses covered the ground in the forests, and soft grasses brushed his ankles—his knees in some places—when they came out into the meadows.\n\n\"One thing's for sure,\" Eric said as they maneuvered around a clump of shrubbery too thick to pass through. \"I don't miss the sound of the bloody saw.\"\n\n\"We don't really need it except to make a path for the cart. The boys must still have the cart. I wonder how they'll bring it.\"\n\n\"I don't see how they could get it up the cataracts. That stretch looked pretty impassable to me, especially if you were trying to carry something.\" Eric changed the subject: \"Listen to those birds.\" He began to whistle back at them, mimicking their calls.\n\nThe soft bird sounds mingled easily with the swish of the grasses as they walked, creating an easy rhythm. For a brief moment, the tension in Zinovy's body eased. Then, Eric's hand whipped out across Zinovy's chest, stopping him in mid-stride.\n\n\"Quiet. Did you hear that?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"A noise like an animal.\"\n\nThey waited.\n\n\"All I can hear is the birds,\" Zinovy said.\n\nZinovy started to move on but Eric stopped him again. \"Wait. I did hear something—more like a roar. It sounds far away, but I'm pretty sure—\"\n\n\"Like a lion's roar?\"\n\nEric nodded. They stood for a few minutes, but when no other sounds came, they moved on.\n\n\"Might be animals,\" Eric said. \"Remember the deer we saw?\"\n\nZinovy doubted there were lions. How could there be? But, then, how could any of this be? \"If there are wild animals ahead we need to be cautious.\"\n\n\"Are you always cautious, Zinovy?\"\n\n\"Always. It's how I've survived to age thirty-eight. It's irresponsible to be careless.\"\n\n\"But this world is different. I've been thinking a lot about this. I mean about how it's different. I've decided it's because—well, it's like life is in charge of the world now, not death.\" He looked across the colorful landscape toward the horizon, his face glowing in the reflection of the air around them. \"We thought the world was destroyed by this event, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe it was restored instead.\" He turned back to Zinovy and the glow faded. \"You should relax a little. You're way too serious.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. \"To relax is to become weak. Weakness is always dangerous, even now. There's still much we don't know about the city, and the journey there is still long. It's not a good time to relax.\"\n\nIt would never be a good time to relax. Things were more complex than Eric imagined. \"Have it your way,\" Eric said. \"But don't crank at the rest of us. I just want to be happy.\"\n\nIn the late afternoon Archie stopped them for a break. Zinovy shrugged out of his backpack and wandered off to find something to eat. He didn't have to go far. Menu items abounded. Leaf and stalk, blade and frond—strange shapes and textures, but nothing Zinovy had tried so far had been distasteful. Finally settling on a thick leaf from a nearby shrub, he sat down and took a bite. Carter sat beside him, digging in his backpack.\n\n\"Dang. What happened? My rhubarb sandwich is gone.\" Sure enough, only a few wisps remained in the bottom of his bag. \"Just like the plants I tried to collect,\" he said. \"No wonder I couldn't gather any data.\" He glowered and muttered under his breath. Zinovy grinned at Eric across the grass and Eric grinned back.\n\nThe boys had eaten quickly and gone exploring. Now Graham burst upon them, full of his discovery. \"Hey, guys. The animals are back. Come look.\"\n\nZinovy stood with the others at the outer edge of the line of trees and stared out over a vast plain. \"The variety is remarkable,\" Archie said. \"I'm counting about twenty-five species out there, if you distinguish between the antelope.\"\n\n\"They look like African animals,\" Raheem said. \"See those small ones with the curling horns?\"\n\nNo one answered. They stood for a while, entranced, then Archie said, \"Let's get going. We can check this out later, but for now we need to move on.\"\n\nEventually they came upon the river. It was wider here than where they'd crossed the day before. Had it only been one day? Zinovy marveled.\n\n\"Where are the others?\" Eric asked. \"Elan said they'd meet us here.\"\n\nArchie stood with his hands on his hips, watching the boys move cautiously up to the riverbank. \"They're probably still downstream. They can't have gotten this far yet. We were at least five hours from the river when we stopped last night. Elan will have to backtrack all that way and then they'll have to get up the falls and on to this place, wherever we are. It'll take them a while.\"\n\nEmery rolled up his pant legs and headed down the gentle incline toward the water. \"Emery, take it easy.\" Archie said, a furrow in his brow. \"What do you think, Zinovy? Is it all right for them to go in?\"\n\n\"It's too late to worry about it,\" Zinovy said, as the rest of the boys followed Emery's lead. Soon they were in up to their waists, then their necks. Zinovy cringed when Conrad dove under the water, but he came up in one piece, laughing and sputtering.\n\n\"We might as well rest here and wait for the others,\" Archie said, rubber stamping the decision the swimmers had already made. Carter immediately began investigating the plant life. Eric wandered over to a grassy hummock, lay down on his back, put his hands behind his head and stared up into the sky.\n\nZinovy stood, watching the five young men splash in the water. The current was not too strong here and they all seemed to be good swimmers. After a moment he transferred his attention to Carter, who was stooped over a bush of some kind, pulling the leaves apart. \"Come look at this, Zinovy,\" Carter said. \"This bush has buds on it. And they're pretty well advanced too.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So if these are buds, then there might be flowers soon.\"\n\n\"This makes you happy, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, but I don't understand why they're here all of a sudden when there weren't any before.\" He stood up, looking down at the plant in front of him.\n\n\"Maybe it's springtime here,\" Zinovy said.\n\n\"Well, it's definitely spring for this plant.\" Carter looked around. \"They're all in bud. Either it's becoming spring, or we're moving into areas where the vegetation is already in a more advanced state.\"\n\nArchie came up as Charles was speaking. \"Either time or place then, eh? Which do you think?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe it's both—farther east, and later in the year. It's supposed to be late spring here by now—I mean by the old calendar. Let's see. New Years' was April first, and we've come—how long has it been? A month?\"\n\nArchie nodded. \"About that. A few days over, I think.\"\n\n\"So it could be the time.\" Carter scratched his head. \"But I don't even know if the traditional seasons still hold.\" He shrugged and sauntered over to another clump of bushes, muttering to himself.\n\nZinovy watched him go. Then he stretched out on the mossy knoll that ran up from the edge of the river, locked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.\n\nHe woke with a start, instantly on guard. The noises came from his left. In the next instant the bushes nearby began to rustle and two chattering people stepped into their midst.\n\n\"Hey.\" Mike sat up and moved his feet as Simon and Ruben clomped over him. \"Where did you guys come from?\"\n\n\"Upriver,\" Simon said. \"Elan sent us back to look for you. Where've you been?\"\n\n\"We've been waiting for you,\" Archie said. \"How did you get upriver from here? We thought you'd still be coming up to us.\"\n\n\"No way. We passed this spot hours ago,\" Ruben said. Zinovy and Archie looked at each other.\n\n\"When did you leave the tree bridge?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"We left early this morning. Elan came just after breakfast. We packed up and headed out right away. He said you'd meet us along the river.\"\n\n\"But he left us just after breakfast. How could he . . . ?\" Archie's question trailed off. \"Did Sara come with him?\"\n\n\"Yeah. We're all up there.\"\n\nZinovy glanced at Archie, whose puzzled frown mirrored his own. \"Both of them must have traveled at the speed of light,\" he said, half to himself. His head reeled with the implications. Now time was playing tricks on them as well.\n\n\"Come on, then. Let's get going,\" Archie said. \"It'll be night soon.\"\n\n* * *\n\nSara was in the river when the wanderers arrived.\n\nShe'd put Caleb down with the Mueller kids and was taking a dip in a quiet pool under some willow trees before she turned in for the night. She heard the men coming through the trees, Simon and Ruben talking non-stop as always.\n\nSara was not in a hurry to meet them. She was still seething at Zinovy for the harsh reprimand he'd given her—was it just that morning? It seemed ages ago. But it would be ages before she forgave him. He was so typically male. Men were always condescending and critical, as if they never did wrong or needed to apologize for anything. She lay on her back and floated, brushing her hands against the gentle current now and then to keep herself in place under the shelter of the drooping branches overhead. Then she became aware of a presence—someone watching from the bank.\n\nShe stood up, searching for the river bottom with her feet as she swept the wet hair out of her eyes with both hands. With relief she saw it was only Eric. She smiled up at him, adjusting the straps on the camisole Grace had given her to wear under her blouse, glad for that extra bit of modesty now that she no longer swam alone.\n\nEric was nice. She'd been surprised at the discovery. He'd been the first to recover last night, coming around in time to help them take care of the others. Later, before their bedtime, they'd talked. Or, rather, she'd talked. He'd listened, and it seemed as if he understood her fear, and even her need to keep the information about the river to herself. Then, this morning, he'd stood by her when she'd had to face Zinovy's wrath. She felt safe with Eric.\n\nEric smiled back. \"The ankle-biter's asking for you,\" he said.\n\n\"Caleb?\"\n\nHe nodded. She made her way to the bank and Eric held out a hand to pull her up. She gathered the tails of her rather too-large cotton shirt in both hands and wrung out the excess water. It sparkled, even in the late night mist, as the drops fell on the ground at her feet. She ran her hands over her hair, wiping away as much of the wetness as she could, then they started back to camp.\n\n\"Thanks for sticking up for me this morning. I was afraid for them to find out what I'd done. Especially Zinovy. He's such a stern man.\"\n\nEric laughed. \"Didn't look like you needed much help,\" he said. \"You're pretty good at sticking up for yourself.\"\n\n\"He had no right to stomp and yell about what I'd done, without even hearing an explanation. He has no patience. He scares me.\"\n\nEric laughed again, throwing his head back in pure enjoyment this time. \"He scares you,\" he said. \"I should think it would be the other way around. You probably scared the daylights out of him.\"\n\n\"It's not funny,\" Sara said. \"I don't want to have anything to do with him, ever. He's just like all the other men I've known. They do evil things to others. They lie. Then they act as if they're wonderful and everyone should bow down to them or something.\"\n\nEric grew serious. \"Is that how you feel about all men?\" he asked, stopping to look down into her eyes.\n\n\"Well, not all, maybe. You're an exception.\"\n\nThey were nearing the camp and the conversation ended, but Eric's reaction to her plight haunted Sara. He'd laughed at what she'd thought was a terrible thing. If he laughed—he who'd listened so kindly to her the night before—maybe it wasn't so awful. She realized she was being a little harsh on the Russian, but the anger would not go away. Even as she tried to reason, the pain rose up—much larger than it should be—much more intrusive. Why? Why did his attitude rankle so much?\n\nShe knew why. It wasn't the first time she'd had to deal with this anger. But she wasn't ready to deal with it again. Not now. This wasn't the time or the place to revisit the past.\n\nWhen they reached the compound, Sara veered off toward Caleb's bed. He was asleep again. She settled beside him, waiting to lie down until the last of the moisture left her clothes and hair, listening to the low murmur of men's voices in the distance. Why did she find that sound so disturbing?\n\nEventually the voices stopped. She fell asleep and dreamt. In her dream, a man on a white horse rode through the forest. He was coming to rescue her, but as he approached the library where she sat reading, he turned into a monster with large bulging eyes, long, stringy hair and yellow, crooked teeth. He leered at her through the window, and when she screamed—a soundless scream that caught in her throat and ached for release—he laughed and rode away. She looked down at the book she'd been reading and screamed again. Her hands were gone, and her body had disappeared. She woke up struggling, fighting a deep anguish, remembering.\n\nThe dream was a familiar one. After a while she relaxed, as she always did. She stretched, relieved to feel the moss, soft against her skin. Then she sighed and fell into a fitful sleep once more.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy had taken to waking up slowly. It was a deliberate ploy. His most rational thoughts came in the early morning before he opened his eyes. As soon as the physical atmosphere invaded his senses all reasonable thoughts would vanish, as shadows before the sun.\n\nEven so, he could not close his ears. At the earliest sign of morning, uproarious sounds of life assaulted him. Meadowlarks heralded the day, calling out greetings to the sparrows and swallows and pigeons and doves, bidding goodbye to the nightingales and the owls. Baby animals summoned their mothers with mews and bleats and their mothers answered with murmurs and chuckles. It took all his will to ignore the peace and happiness resounding in the morning air around him.\n\nBut he had to. At least long enough to get a grip on reality. He lay, willing his body to ignore the sensory invaders, taking time to deliberate, studying the chess pieces, trying to imagine what his next move should be, frustrated over the impossibility of plotting more than one move ahead. All the rules had changed. He didn't know this new version of the game at all. The best he could do was try to defend his king from the closest threats, and hope his queen would survive one more day.\n\nOver time, as he practiced this new strategy, he had become aware of a new invasion. Before his mind could prepare for the challenges of the day, something else would approach, from behind, softly, intruding almost apologetically, but not quite. Something intent on having its way before either the mind or the senses took over.\n\nHe couldn't identify this new assailant—couldn't analyze or explain it. By the time his mind was awake enough to do either, the intruder would be gone, leaving as quietly as it had come. He couldn't even comprehend what the presence was doing to him, but he felt vulnerable.\n\nSomething tickled Zinovy's nose. He raised a hand to brush it aside, but it came back. He swiped at it again, more seriously this time. Then he opened his eyes.\n\nInstantly he sat up, fully awake.\n\nA riot of color waved back and forth in front of his face, taunting him, daring him to believe he wasn't still dreaming, and behind the color was Caleb, an elaborate bouquet of flowers spilling out of his arms.\n\nZinovy's first thought was to wonder if they'd moved in the night to some other campsite. He was beyond assuming such things couldn't happen. His second thought was more frightening. \"Caleb! Why did you pick the flowers? We can't destroy vegetation for no reason. It gives off poison if we do.\"\n\nCaleb's brow puckered. \"But I had a reason. I wanted to hold them. They're pretty, and they smell good too.\" He buried his face in the blossoms and breathed deeply.\n\nZinovy snatched the bundle away. \"They smell good, yes, but the smell will make you sick. You cannot just pick anything you like without permission, Caleb.\"\n\nCaleb looked as if he'd lost his best friend. \"But he gave me permission.\"\n\n\"Who gave you permission?\"\n\n\"The bright one. He said I could pick as many as I wanted. He even showed me where the nicest ones were.\"\n\nZinovy tossed the flowers aside and dropped his head between his knees. This delusion of Caleb's was becoming dangerous. He pulled the boy down to the ground between his feet and wrapped his arms around him.\n\n\"Caleb, I know you're lonely. You miss your mom and dad. But you can't keep making things up just to feel better.\" He gripped the boy's arms, turned him around, and looked into his face.\n\n\"I know how you feel. I lost my parents when I was a boy like you.\"\n\nCaleb looked up at him, wonder in his eyes. \"You did?\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"It was hard for me too. But I grew up and now it doesn't feel so bad. That will happen to you too. But you have to understand the difference between what's real and what's pretend.\" He pinched Caleb's arm gently. \"This is real. You are real. Your bright ones are not real. Do you see?\"\n\nCaleb fixed him with a wise stare and said nothing. Eventually Zinovy had to content himself with the directness of the gaze and assume his message had hit home. \"Come on. The others will leave us behind if we don't hurry.\"\n\nBut Archie was not quite ready to go. Zinovy found him by the river talking with Elan. \"We still have unanswered questions,\" the Commander said.\n\nElan answered each inquiry patiently: Yes, they could cut branches, or even trees, as long as they only took the tops. The trees would regenerate if enough of the trunk were left. Yes, they could swim in, wash in, shave in, play in, and still drink the same water. \"All waste products are dealt with immediately. The water will remain sweet no matter what you do with it,\" he assured them.\n\nEric brought the rest of the crew up to date on the fate of their technology. \"The EVARM unit is no more, and we have no GPS. The tissue analysis equipment is toast, and the generator is back there somewhere with the remains of the saw.\"\n\nThe cart had been left behind at the bridge. \"That's okay,\" Archie said when Simon reported the loss. \"All we have left we can carry in our backpacks.\"\n\nThe medical supplies were still intact. Their few hand tools were okay, and some personal supplies—a small paring knife, some safety razors and a pair of round-tipped scissors for cutting hair. Their tin cups and metal containers were fine, but everything else was gone. After the simple inventory and discussion of a few other minor items, they packed up and headed out for the day's journey.\n\nElan walked with them a while, talking to the boys who were plying him with questions. Their biggest puzzle was how he'd gotten back to the bridge so quickly.\n\n\"It's not difficult. Time and space are all relative, you know.\"\n\n\"If it is so easy,\" Raheem reasoned, \"why couldn't you just transport us all to the place we are going like that?\" He snapped his fingers.\n\n\"Because there's value in the going.\"\n\n\"But there is nothing to do here,\" Emery protested.\n\n\"It's not what you do that's important. It's what is done in you.\" Elan said. \"You'll have lots to do once you get there. For now, the journey is your only task. Just take it one step at a time and let things happen.\"\n\nEric and Zinovy walked together behind the boys. Caleb skipped along at their side. \"I wonder what 'things' he could be talking about,\" Eric said.\n\n\"I don't know. He probably doesn't either. I don't think he plans ahead, and that's a dangerous way to live.\"\n\nIt was four days before the first of the \"things\" occurred—a restful four days during which they made good progress. They passed through meadows of wildflowers and thickets of trees in full bloom, through a small valley that fell away from the riverbank on either side, the water coursing down the middle of a deep crevice running through its center. Zinovy readjusted his concept of geography. Natural erosion processes could not account for this anomaly. But anomalies seemed to be the order of the day.\n\n* * *\n\nThat whole first week along the river was a difficult one for Sara. She was restless, jumpy. Something was wrong, but she didn't know what. All she knew was that she was not happy, and the unhappiness involved a combination of anger and fear.\n\nAnd maybe pride too, she admitted. Her tutor had often warned her about the dangers of letting such feelings rule in her heart—the kind of stubborn pride that made her selfish, hard and unkind.\n\nBut her feelings had a reason. The Russian was harsh to her. She didn't owe him any kindness. She frowned as she walked, arguing with the tutor's words, but still she knew. She was guilty. She had been wrong for not telling them about the river. Zinovy had been under stress when he attacked her, and for good reason.\n\nShe needed to do something about her guilt, but she couldn't bring herself to try. He was just too hard to approach. Eventually her anger subsided, but the fear remained. So she stumbled on in her misery, avoiding contact, distracting herself as much as she could with the journey.\n\nOn the fourth day, after what seemed like ages, the Muellers provided her with a welcome diversion. \"Mark and I want to take some time away with the children,\" Michelle said. \"We're going across the river. We'll travel on that side for a day or two. Why don't you come with us?\"\n\n\"Did Archie say it was okay?\"\n\n\"It's okay, as long as we travel fast enough to keep pace with them. We'll come back across the river eventually, but we just want some time apart. The kids get so hyped up when they're around the Canaveral crew.\"\n\nSara went gladly, relieved to get away from the constant worry about facing Zinovy. Caleb went with her. He was delighted with the plan. He would have been happier if Zinovy had come too, but Sara quietly squelched that idea, luring Caleb away from his large friend by the promise of other adventures with his two young playmates. So the six of them splashed across the river—the three adults keeping the children afloat in the center of the stream where the current was strongest—and scrambled up the gentle slope of the opposite bank, laughing and pinching and tickling as they went.\n\nMark had borrowed Ruben's compass so they could venture farther into the wilderness. The vegetation changed as they walked, thinning out and growing lower to the ground. After the first half-mile they found themselves on the edge of a vast plain. There they stopped for lunch. As the others gathered leaves from a bushy flowering plant they'd never seen before, Sara wandered toward the savanna. It had been a long time since she'd been able to see so far. She stood still before the view, letting her eyes roam along the horizon, and some of the peace of that vast distance entered her soul.\n\nThey ate, then the children romped in the grass, playing games of their own invention, delighting, along with Sara, in the freedom. Mark and Michelle stretched out under a large acacia tree near the children and fell asleep. Sara watched the children for a while, then she moved off by herself, still reveling in the spaciousness, wanting to capture the feel of it, wanting to hold the moment, like a glorious sunset, for as long as she could.\n\nBut soon it was time to move on. \"We can't lag too far behind the others or we'll never catch up,\" Mark said. Sara lifted her eyes for one last look into the peaceful distance. It was then she saw the lions.\n\n* * *\n\nBack on the other side, Mark and Sara announced the first of Elan's \"things\" to the crew. Their report sparked a lively discussion:\n\n\"Lions?\" Archie said. \"You mean mountain lions?\"\n\n\"No, not mountain lions. African lions.\"\n\n\"African? That doesn't make sense.\"\n\nEric interjected: \"But wait. Remember the African animals we saw on the way back to the river?\"\n\nArchie wasn't listening. Zinovy didn't blame him. The Africa thing sounded preposterous.\n\n\"Maybe they're zoo lions,\" Archie said.\n\n\"Uh uh.\" Mark shook his head. \"These couldn't have been zoo animals. We saw ten or twelve in a couple of different groups. No zoo would have had that many, and these were definitely wild.\"\n\n\"How could they have gotten here?\" Grace wondered.\n\n\"If there's no ocean . . . . Is it possible the lions walked over from Africa?\" Mike asked.\n\nZinovy calculated the distance. \"We're too far away. They migrate in the wild, but they wouldn't have had time to get so far.\" He hesitated. \"I don't think. Would they, Charles?\"\n\n\"Who knows what's happened,\" Carter said. \"According to Elan, this place is so screwy rational explanations don't work any more.\"\n\nArchie frowned. \"Did they seem aggressive?\"\n\n\"We didn't get close enough to find out,\" Mark said. \"They looked peaceful enough in the distance.\"\n\n\"At any rate, we should be cautious,\" Archie said to the others.\n\nWhen the excitement died down and they got underway, Archie drew Zinovy aside. \"I think we need to do some advance exploration from now on,\" he said. The idea made sense, considering the uncharted territory that lay before them. That evening they established a roster and Archie informed the others. \"From now on, two scouts will start out an hour ahead of the rest of us. They'll follow the river, scan the route, and report back if they run into anything out of the ordinary.\" The young men were eager for the adventure and argued amiably for first place on the scouting roster.\n\n* * *\n\nThe pilgrims were making good time.\n\nThey'd come nine days along the river and Zinovy figured they'd averaged twenty-five miles a day—an excellent pace considering they were walking with children. Everyone was healthy now and energy seemed unlimited. Often they would travel an extra three or four hours in the evening after supper. There was no darkness to stop them and it never took long to make camp. They had only to find a soft bed in the tundra-like turf that covered the terrain they passed through.\n\nBecause he was the youngest, Caleb had become their bedtime marker. They stopped when his energy ran out, and he was incredibly durable. The boys had taken to carrying him on their shoulders at times, especially just before lunch or dinner when his small steps began to flag. Zinovy suspected this might have added to his endurance.\n\n\"Don't overdo the carrying,\" Zinovy told them. \"We all need to conserve our energy.\"\n\n\"It is not a bother,\" Raheem said. \"He weighs very little.\"\n\n\"He's entertaining,\" Emery added with a grin. \"His mouth never wears out.\"\n\nZinovy listened to Caleb chatter away from his perch on Raheem's shoulders. The \"why\" stage was in full bloom now. It could have been annoying, but thankfully the boy seemed capable of answering most of his own questions.\n\n\"Why doesn't that fat bird fall over when he stands on one leg? Why doesn't he use the other leg too? It must be tired, I guess. My legs get tired sometimes too,\" he conceded.\n\n\"Not very often,\" Zinovy mumbled under his breath.\n\nBut the pace they were setting couldn't continue forever, and it was during this week that Grace suggested they rest now and then. \"Why do we have to travel every day? There's no need to be so driven. We've got all we need to survive. We aren't looking for anything, really. Why don't we take a break, say, every seven days or so, and just relax?\"\n\nCharles dissented. \"Do you have any idea how far away this city is? It's going to take us forever to get there even if we keep at it every day. We can't afford any picnics along the way.\"\n\n\"I'm inclined to agree with Charles,\" Archie said. \"This city is about sixty-five hundred miles from Canaveral, from the sounds of it. We've traveled—how many days have we walked so far, Grace?\"\n\nGrace thumbed through the pages of the logbook. \"We've been going . . . \" She paused to count, then looked up. \"We've traveled seventeen days.\"\n\n\"Seventeen days,\" Archie repeated. \"At twenty-five miles a day, average. That's good time, but that means we've only come—what's seventeen times twenty-five? Somebody figure it out.\"\n\nGrace had already done the math. \"It's four hundred and twenty-five miles.\"\n\n\"Four twenty-five—so we've got over six thousand miles to go.\" Archie looked around the group. \"It's a long way, folks.\"\n\n\"But that's the whole reason we need some breaks,\" Grace argued. \"We won't be able to go that far without resting now and then, and we'll make better time if we don't overtax ourselves.\"\n\nShe had a point. The group continued to debate. The Canaveral crew were all for going steadily on. Eric was noncommittal. Sara and Grace didn't contribute to the discussion. Zinovy didn't care one way or the other. But the Muellers demurred. \"Our kids won't make it,\" Mark said.\n\nFinally Archie made a decision. \"Okay. I'm willing to try this rest-day thing if you feel the need, but I reserve the right to change the plan if we find we're getting too far behind schedule. Let's see.\" He consulted his note pad. \"If we keep up at our current rate, and stop one day a week . . . \" He paused, scribbling, then gave them the figures: \"We've got more than eight months of travel ahead of us.\"\n\nThere were nods around the circle. Finally Eric said, \"Well, we've got time. Like Grace said, as long as we have tucker and water along the way, what's the hurry? Elan told us not to rush, remember?\"\n\nArchie studied the boy for a moment. Then he said, \"There is no hurry, but we have a goal, and we need to make sure we don't lose sight of the goal. The goal is to get to this city. Once we do that, my job will be over and you can each choose where you want to go from there. Meanwhile, we need to stick together, and we need to keep moving.\"\n\nSo it was decided. Grace wrote the ruling in the logbook. The next day—the eighteenth since their journey had begun—would be their first official rest.\n\nCHAPTER FOURTEEN\n\nMorning dawned bright as usual. Zinovy stood, his back against the trunk of an apple tree, and shook his head. He would never get used to the lack of weather in this place. Visibility was clear for half a kilometer. Not a cloud, or a hint of rain—no chill in the air. He shivered, remembering the dark coldness of the Russian winters he'd lived through—the pain of the frostbite he'd suffered as a child when his cousins had locked him out of the house one night, and again, years later, during the coldest winter on record, when his vehicle had broken down on his way back to the base.\n\nThe changing seasons of the old world were all right. They'd brought some excitement—a break in routine—each one contributing its own particular beauty to life in an otherwise drab existence. But for some reason Zinovy didn't find the predictable weather pattern in this new world boring. The air caressed his skin constantly, its warmth stimulating, and every ripple of color in the cloudless sky held the quiet promise of new excitement, as if even more happiness waited around the next bend in the river.\n\nZinovy stretched, letting the tingle of the morning air relax some of the tension in his taut muscles, and turned his thoughts to plans for the day.\n\nZinovy and Archie hadn't put their names on the scouting roster, but both had been on heavy alert since the lion sightings. One or the other of them walked around the rim of the campsite before they settled every night, and again every morning before breakfast when the scouts headed off. They'd seen no wildlife. Today was the first of their rest days, and the crew scouted around the compound for tamer prey.\n\nAt Grace and Michelle's suggestion, tonight's supper was to be potluck. \"Every one is to scavenge one item,\" Grace explained. \"Collect as much of that one type of plant as would make a full meal for one person, and bring it to this clump of bushes over here. We'll combine our choices and eat together under that Banyan tree.\" She pointed to the large tree in the center of their camp and smiled around at everyone.\n\nNone of the others smiled back. Zinovy immediately started making plans to skip the little tea party, and Charles wandered off, muttering something sarcastic about the pleasures of Sunday school picnics.\n\n\"We don't need a party,\" Mike said. \"We'd rather grab something fast and then go play football.\"\n\n\"We'll make this a game,\" Michelle said. \"A contest, with a prize for the most interesting menu item submitted. And when we're through eating you can have your football game.\"\n\nMike looked sideways at her. \"What kind of prize?\"\n\n\"Wait and see. It'll be a good one, don't worry.\"\n\nMike looked at Archie, then at Zinovy. \"Are you two going to do it?\"\n\nZinovy glanced at Archie and raised his eyebrows. Archie shrugged. They were caught in the leadership trap—one of the many reasons Zinovy had avoided this kind of responsibility all his life. He looked at Grace's eager face and nodded, hiding his own reluctance. Mike slumped, obviously resigned to his fate, and Michelle and Grace gave some last minute instructions.\n\n\"You can do it in pairs, if that will make it more fun for you,\" Grace said.\n\n\"Your dish has to be attractively arranged,\" Michelle told them. \"Presentation is important.\" Several groans issued from the audience, but Michelle ignored them. \"And you must be prepared to talk about what you've brought—tell where you found it and what the plants look like in their natural habitat.\"\n\nGrace studied the boys' faces and added, \"Only new items, ones we haven't tried before, will count toward the prize.\"\n\nMichelle smiled again and said, \"It will be a chance for us all to share what we've discovered during the day.\"\n\nZinovy hid a smile as the young men rolled their eyes, but in the end they went off to explore, their enthusiasm gradually increasing as they began to discover plants they hadn't noticed before. Recipe possibilities were endless. Flowers still bloomed everywhere, but fruit now grew as well. Almost every piece of vegetation had one or the other, sometimes both on the same plant.\n\nZinovy stood with Archie and watched as the young men wandered through the foliage, stooping here and there to pluck a sample of some new discovery. Mike and Emery had paired up. Occasionally they'd look over to see what the twins were doing, checking out the competition.\n\n\"Well, at least they're occupied,\" Archie said after a while.\n\n\"Distracted is more like it. Their eyes are too much on the ground. I'm going to scout around, check for any activity in the area that might disrupt the party tonight.\"\n\n\"Good idea. But you'd better come back with a new menu item or you'll be in trouble with the women.\" Archie grinned at him.\n\nZinovy grunted and headed for the perimeter of the compound. He circled the base three times, stopping at intervals to check the horizon and listen for unusual noises in the gentle air. All the noises were usual, as if there were such a thing in this new place. Zinovy shook his head at the thought.\n\nThe cries of birds in flight mingled with the bleats of small animals in the field. Monkeys, hidden in the treetops, chuckled in answer to the calls of their mates. Delicate antelope nibbled silently at the grass, not even bothering to lift their heads at the distant sounds of larger beasts that would have been their predators in an ordinary world. But Zinovy heard no lions roar.\n\nFinally he turned back, doing some culinary exploration along the way. He harvested a large white fruit from a tree he'd never seen before, slid it between two triangular leaves, and carried the possible contest winner back to camp.\n\nBy now it was lunch time. The compound was quiet. Zinovy sat down under the apple tree and took a bite of his sandwich, testing the flavor and texture.\n\nAcross the meadow Sara and Eric sat talking. It was a curious thing. She still kept to herself a lot, and she never approached any other man, but lately she'd taken to walking with Eric, and whenever she needed anything, he was the one she went to. Zinovy wasn't surprised. It wouldn't be him, for sure. They'd barely spoken since her outburst the day after they crossed the river.\n\nEric held a small red book in his hand. They'd finished eating and he appeared to be reading portions of the book to her. Was it poetry? Somehow Eric didn't seem the type, but they looked almost like lovers sitting there together. Eric raised his head and said something to her and she laughed. The soft, low sound filtered across the meadow, not at all out of place in the beauty of their surroundings.\n\nSo it wasn't poetry. Something humorous instead. He watched the two of them and wondered. It would not be a bad thing, he supposed. She could certainly do worse.\n\n\"Hi, Zinovy.\" Mike and Emery trotted past. They'd finished their exploration and were heading across the clearing with samples of their treasure.\n\n\"We've found the ultimate dessert. You'll never top this one,\" said Emery. \"It's delectable.\" He drew his fingers together at his mouth and blew a kiss into the air. Then with a grin and an impudent toss of his dreadlocks, he and Mike trotted off to plan their presentation.\n\nAs Zinovy watched the relationships develop around him, a strange new discomfort started to creep over him. He couldn't put a name to it, but it was real. Sara and Eric, Sara and Grace, the Canaveral kids, and even Archie—they all seemed eager for interaction with others. He felt none of their camaraderie. He felt cold and hard.\n\nWhen had the coldness begun? Was it the FSB training? No. Military school? No. Farther back than that. His memories slid into early childhood and it was there he found the source. Not surprisingly, the source was covered in blood.\n\nAfter his mother's death he'd been inconsolable. The neighbors tried their best. They passed him from family to family, hoping he'd connect with one of them, but he couldn't settle anywhere. A year later, still grieving, he'd gone to live with his uncle.\n\nHis aunt had not been happy. Zinovy listened, peeking from behind the kitchen door as they talked. \"We've got to take him, Manya,\" the man said to his wife. \"Others have done all they can. He's my sister's child. I have a responsibility.\"\n\nHis aunt frowned and put her hands on her hips. \"He is small for his age—scrawny. He is going to be another burden.\"\n\nThe day he arrived she put him to work in the garden. When she discovered, much to her dismay, that he couldn't distinguish between weeds and vegetables, she relegated him to the chicken coop. He didn't mind. He spent long, quiet hours there by himself, shoveling manure, carrying feed to the troughs and filling the water dishes.\n\nThree cousins lived in that home as well—all boys—all older than he. They surveyed his arrival with interest and concluded he'd come solely for their entertainment. They found him crying the first night. \"Oh, looky here,\" one crooned. \"We have a little crybaby in our bed. What shall we do about that?\"\n\nWhat they did had traumatized him, and it continued. He learned to dread the coming of night.\n\nBut Zinovy loved gathering the eggs in the morning. It was a wonder to him, day after day, when he slid his hand under a hen, to find one or two, or even sometimes three of the round, warm treasures underneath. He would carry them to the mudroom, wash them carefully, and put them in a basket on the kitchen table for his aunt to put away.\n\nOnce, some of the eggs were allowed to hatch. He'd been in charge of the young brood of chicks and his wonder had increased. For the first few, delicate days of their lives they were kept in a covered box on the floor by the kitchen stove. He'd left his bed every night after the others were asleep, taking his blanket to the kitchen and curling up on the floor beside the box. He would watch them for a while before falling asleep to the sound of their gentle peeps. He reveled in the beauty of their downy yellow fluffiness, marveled at their smallness, wondered at the miracle of their innocent trust in his care of them.\n\nHis cousins had found him there one morning, asleep by the box. They taunted him as usual. When he came back to the kitchen later with the eggs, he checked in on his charges and found them all dead. They'd been stabbed, and cut into chunks of almost unrecognizable animal body parts.\n\nZinovy looked at the bloody mass of yellow bodies and something tightened around his heart. He choked back his tears, straightened his scrawny shoulders and headed out with determined step to the field where his cousins were working.\n\nThe boys suffered doubly for their prank. Their mother, who cared nothing for Zinovy's feelings, was furious at the loss of the potential food supply. She thrashed the boys soundly, adding considerably to the pain of the bruises Zinovy had already inflicted on them in the field.\n\nHis cousins treated him with a certain amount of respect after that, but the small victory had hardened him. He had grown up quickly—purged of his baby weakness and ready to meet life head on. When the chance to leave for military school came five years later, he had jumped at it.\n\nYes. The coldness had begun then, and it grew with him. He'd thrown himself into his military training, forcing his body and his mind into submission, shaping himself into the ironclad machine he needed to be to perform well as an FSB officer. Somewhere along the way, during those years of training and beyond, the pain of his grief—the aching loneliness—had turned into a sad resignation. Eventually, even the sadness left, washed away by the experiences of life, leaving him emotionless and at peace, safe behind the walls of the fortress he'd built.\n\nBut now, in a world that infused life into his body with every breath he took, where he didn't even need to work to feed himself—in a world without enemies—the ramparts of the castle he'd built around himself seemed obsolete. The moat, the drawbridge, ever in its upright position, the towering walls, were beginning to feel more like a prison than a fortress. For the first time he began to question the correctness of his unemotional approach to life.\n\nAgain, Sara's laugh rang out across the meadow. Zinovy watched her bobbing curls as she leaned toward Eric. The laughing dark head brought back the memory of Nadya, and a knife-sharp pain slashed through his heart. The pain turned into a wave of loneliness—a tidal wave that swept over him and slammed his heart into the pounding surf of his broken past. The attack was so uncharacteristic he wondered if the fruit in his sandwich contained some kind of mind-altering drug—an amphetamine, or an aphrodisiac.\n\nProbably not. He just had too much time on his hands. He knew the softness around the area of his heart signified a softness in his mind—something he needed to fix. As he watched the two young people he remembered that he, too, had a book—Nadya's copy of Plato's Republic tucked away in his pack. He decided to dig it out. The philosopher's cold rationality would make short shrift of both of his softness problems.\n\nCaleb had been rooting around in the grass beside Sara and Eric, probably searching for some small creature to adopt. Finding none in the immediate vicinity, he looked across the green at Zinovy. He waved, said something to Sara and then bounded off. Seconds later the little appendage plopped down and affixed himself to Zinovy's side.\n\nHe was chattering before he hit the ground—something about insects, or butterflies, or worms. That's it. He'd found an earthworm—had set it on the ground beside him—but it had disappeared into the moss while he was busy making a home for it in a patch of yellow flowers.\n\nZinovy listened with amusement, first to the words and then simply to the sound. He closed his eyes and smiled. Soon he was dozing, falling asleep to the noise of the child's chatter, soft, like the gentle peeping of baby chicks.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy enjoyed the supper. Enjoy. How long had it been since he'd used that word? He couldn't remember. Laughter spilled in and out of their talk. Banter bounced back and forth from one to the other. After much deliberation, Emery and Mike were deemed the winners of the potluck contest, and when the tin cups had been washed and stowed away, they sat around, watching a herd of antelope that had wandered into the fringe of trees along the south side of the meadow.\n\nEventually they went to bed, and early the next morning they set out again, rested and eager to continue their journey. They made sixteen miles before they stopped for lunch.\n\n\"We're making good time.\" Zinovy said to Eric, as they sat together in a clump of spongy, fern-like plants growing next to a mass of lemon-yellow flowers. \"If we keep on at such a rate we won't be delayed much by the rest days.\" The flowers next to them tasted like lemon, their tangy bite mellowed with a touch of sweetness buried in their centers. Zinovy munched on a handful, pondering, trying to think of a way to bring up the topic that had been on his mind all morning. After a moment of silence, he took a breath and began.\n\n\"You and Sara seem to enjoy each other,\" he said, shifting into a more comfortable position. There was that word, 'enjoy,' again. \"What were you talking about yesterday?\"\n\nHe was prying. Yes. What he asked was none of his business. But he liked Eric. There was something solid and simple about the way he lived his life, and he was open—a rare thing in relationships Zinovy had known.\n\nEric leaned back in his seat, clasped his hands behind his head, and smiled. \"She's a neat kid,\" he said. \"Easy to be around. We do have fun. We've been reading this book together. She's quite smart too, did you know that?\"\n\nZinovy didn't know that. The only contact they had was when she came to disengage Caleb at the end of each day. But he imagined she could be fun for someone like Eric. \"That's something you have in common then,\" Zinovy said, looking over at the boy. \"Have you ever thought she might be fun to have around for good?\" He measured the response to his suggestion in the young man's face.\n\nEric looked surprised and then laughed. \"Well, I'm sure she would be,\" he said. \"But she's not the sheila for me if that's what you were thinking.\"\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows. \"How can you be sure? It might be good for both of you.\"\n\nEric sobered and looked away, studying a pair of gazelles grazing across the meadow. Zinovy followed his gaze. The animals were beautiful—lithe and graceful, at peace in the gentle pasture, moving slowly in tandem from one lush tuft of grass to another, twitching their tails now and then in the soft air. He looked back at Eric. The young man's brows were drawn together over eyes deep with something Zinovy had not seen there before.\n\n\"No,\" Eric finally said. \"I'm sure. She's not for me.\" He turned to Zinovy. \"There was a girl once. There'll never be another.\"\n\nZinovy's eyebrows went up again. \"You were hurt deeply, then?\"\n\nEric frowned. \"No, I couldn't say I was hurt, really. She was fine. I loved her very much, still do as a matter of fact. But I lost her and I'm spoiled for anyone else.\" He drew his hands from behind his head and picked up a nut that had fallen from the tree over their heads.\n\n\"We met through my sister. She told me she knew this girl from work and thought we should get together. I wasn't interested. I had a girlfriend.\" He chuckled. \"But then she set me up. She called one day to ask for a ride home from work. Said her car was acting up and she was leaving it with the mechanic. When I arrived, Serena was there too, looking kind of embarrassed. She'd figured out, too late, what my sister was up to.\"\n\n\"That was it? You started dating?\"\n\n\"No, it was later. We ran into each other at a coffee bar, both waiting for our Caramel Machiattos, and we sat down to talk.\"\n\nEric gazed off into the distance. \"She was different from any girl I'd ever known. She thought for herself—was independent and opinionated—not negative, but strong, in a good way. She didn't need me, do you know what I mean?\" Eric tossed the nut into the air and caught it. \"She was whole and healthy in herself. I found that interesting. All the other girls I'd known might be sweet for a while, but once the relationship got to a certain stage, they'd get clingy and demanding. I always felt trapped and like I couldn't be myself.\"\n\nHe paused, looking at the ground. \"We were different in many ways, but that was okay with Serena. We respected each other. I think that's the key—the thing that made it so different.\"\n\nEric paused again, lost in thought. Zinovy waited for him to continue. After a while, he prompted, \"You moved in together, then?\"\n\nEric chuckled. \"No. None of that. She was religious, see. Didn't believe in living together unless you were married.\" He shook his head. \"I didn't know there were girls like that any more. Every one I'd known had been ready to fall into bed at the drop of a hat.\"\n\n\"So you married her?\" Zinovy persisted. Somehow he'd never pictured Eric being married.\n\nEric looked at Zinovy and his eyes lost their sparkle. \"No. We never married. I wanted to, but the religious thing got in the way. The one thing we needed to have in common, we didn't. I wasn't religious, not in the same way, at least. She believed she actually knew God, that He was her friend. The way she talked seemed wacky to me sometimes. I went to church with her a time or two, but it didn't catch with me. At the time none of it made sense.\" He drew his brows down, thinking.\n\n\"The church was interesting. I used to think religious blokes were a bunch of fruit loops. But they were pretty cool. And they had good music. None of the dark, somber stuff I thought churches would be about. I was surprised about that.\"\n\nEric continued with the story. The two of them had gone on for some time, apparently—loving each other, but never consummating the thing. The stalemate was broken abruptly by her death. Ironically, she'd died in church.\n\nIn Florida, The Great Quake had hit around noon on a Sunday morning and the building had collapsed on the whole congregation. Zinovy remembered the event. It had happened at night in Moscow. He'd come back late that evening from maneuvers to find devastation in the compound, but it had been worse in other places—worse everywhere. The disaster—a global event—had decimated the world's population, making it hard for the Regime to recruit manpower for the new global government. Recovery had barely started when this latest holocaust happened.\n\nEric spoke again, pulling Zinovy back to his surroundings. \"I dated some after that, but it was never the same. No one could replace Serena. I'm content now. Have been for some time. I don't think that'll ever change.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't convinced. The boy was not yet thirty years old. Things did have a way of changing when you were young. But Sara might be too immature for him. She was certainly no match for the vivacious girl whose memory lingered in Eric's heart. Zinovy looked at Eric, contemplating. Then he nodded. \"I've never had quite the same experience, but I think I understand. Women complicate life. It's better without them.\"\n\nEric cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. \"You never had a love of your life?\"\n\nFair enough. Eric had shared with him. He might as well respond in turn. \"Might have, I don't know. There was a woman named Nadya. We were together for a while.\"\n\n\"What was she like?\"\n\nZinovy leaned back and looked up at the sky. \"She was smart and sensible for the most part, hardly ever moody.\" He grimaced, trying to avoid the last vision he'd had of her. After a moment he went on. \"I came this much close to marrying her.\" He measured half an inch between two fingers.\n\n\"Why didn't you?\"\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"A little thing. We had an argument about nothing—a fly that ballooned into an elephant. She wasn't happy with me. I didn't know why. It was exasperating. I wanted to pacify her so we could get on with things. I finally asked her what she wanted—how I could please her.\" He paused.\n\n\"And?\" Eric prodded.\n\nZinovy frowned. \"She said, 'I want you to feel something, Zinovy, just feel something,'\" Another pause. A longer one this time. Then Zinovy sighed and looked at Eric. \"So I said, 'Okay,' and reached for her.\"\n\nEric burst out laughing.\n\nZinovy sat looking at him for a minute. \"It was the wrong response. I never knew the right response with women. Even the most sensible females are a great mystery to me.\"\n\n\"Speak of the devil . . . \" Eric said. Zinovy looked up and saw Sara walking purposefully across the green toward them.\n\nNo, she was walking past them, toward the command center. Zinovy heard the agitation in her voice as she spoke to Archie, who sat working with Grace on the logbook.\n\n\"Something's wrong, Archie,\" Sara said.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy and Eric ambled over to hear Sara's story. The children had been playing on the edge of the camp near a clump of walnut trees. The thick underbrush provided a fascinating network of imaginary roads for imaginary trucks to navigate, and the three of them were engrossed in road construction when Caleb suddenly stopped and lifted his head. He remained quietly alert, peering past the brush into the oak grove for several minutes.\n\nSara was watching him. \"What is it, Caleb?\"\n\n\"I heard a noise,\" he said.\n\n\"Was it an animal?\"\n\n\"No, it's not animals. It's people. They're walking in there. I can hear them stepping.\" He paused, pondering, then he added, \"I don't think they're good people.\"\n\nSara had immediately gathered the children up, herded them back into the center of the compound, and come to find Archie. \"The same thing happened with him at the protectorate, just before the attack,\" Sara said. \"He senses things.\"\n\nArchie looked up at the two men. \"What do you think about this?\"\n\n\"The kid is sharp. I'd pay attention,\" Eric said.\n\nArchie frowned. \"The scouts need to be alerted, for sure. Talk to your boys, Zinovy. I don't know who's on the roster for tomorrow, but make sure they know. I think we should beef up security around the camp at night, too.\"\n\nThat night Archie and Zinovy both circled the camp twice. They found nothing, but Caleb's warning marked the beginning of a new worry. As if they needed one more, Zinovy thought.\n\n* * *\n\nEvents the next morning confirmed Caleb's premonition. Emery and Mike, who'd won an extra scouting assignment for their prizewinning potluck dessert the night before, had left an hour ahead of the crew. Now they raced back into the clearing, heading for Archie. Zinovy and Eric left the blankets they'd been rolling up and sprinted to join them.\n\nThe boys had been scouting about three miles ahead when a large man in ragged clothing rose up out of a berry bush and crashed away through the hedge. The scouting party, stunned at first, recovered quickly and gave chase. \"We didn't catch him,\" Mike said. \"But look what we found. Emery tripped over it on our way back to the river.\"\n\nArchie reached out and took the butcher knife Emery held in his hand. The sharp-edged blade gleamed in the iridescent air. \"This knife is well maintained,\" Archie said.\n\n\"But not very clean.\" Mike pointed to the dark rust color along the seam between the blade and the handle.\n\nThe boy was right. The knife had obviously been used on something other than vegetation. Zinovy grimaced. \"The blood is old. It's worked into the seam pretty well.\"\n\nMike nodded. \"Who knows how long it's been there.\"\n\nThe rust coloring was, in fact, little more than a stain. Archie scraped at it with his thumbnail, but the color remained. \"All organic material would have disintegrated,\" he said. \"But it's definitely not paint or varnish.\"\n\nThey discussed what to do with the new acquisition. Archie decided to wrap it up and put it with their medical supplies. \"Now at least we have a weapon,\" Eric said.\n\nArchie frowned. \"Let's hope we never need to use it.\"\n\nThat evening Elan alighted upon them again. The word was a strange way to characterize a person's arrival, but it seemed a good descriptor to Zinovy, since Elan always simply appeared out of nowhere.\n\n\"There's been a new development,\" Archie said to Elan. \"We've run into another pilgrim.\" He explained. Elan didn't appear surprised, but he asked to see the knife. Emery retrieved it from the medical supply chest and handed it to him. Zinovy heard Sara gasp behind him. He turned to see the pallor wash over her face.\n\n\"What is it, Sara?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"I recognize that knife. It's from the kitchen in my grandfather's house. It's one of a matching set. There were two of them.\" The ashen color remained, and her eyes reflected the haunted look Zinovy remembered from his first sight of her.\n\nElan spoke. His voice was quiet, but serious. \"It's good you know. Now you'll be more cautious. You don't need to be afraid. Just proceed as before, but keep a careful eye out.\"\n\nAfter the others had found their beds—much closer together tonight than usual, Zinovy noticed—Elan led Archie and Zinovy aside. Eric followed them.\n\n\"I thought you said this environment was safe,\" Archie challenged Elan.\n\n\"Your physical environment is life affirming, but your social environment is another thing. Human beings are always potentially dangerous because of their ability to choose how they will act. Some of the humans you will meet on your journey will choose to do you harm.\"\n\nElan paused and looked at each of them. Then he went on. \"Your care of the women and children is especially important from now on. Because you no longer live in an age of technology, those who are physically smaller are more vulnerable again. You need to keep them close at all times. I know these men.\"\n\n\"Men?\" Archie said.\n\n\"Yes, there are more than the one, but they're cowardly. They won't bother your group as long as they sense your watchfulness.\" Seeing their clouded faces, he added. \"Don't be afraid. All will be well. Just be aware.\"\n\nArchie turned to the other two men. \"We should be proactive about this. We need to assign responsibility for each of the women. Eric, you keep an eye on Grace. Tell her what you're doing. She's a capable woman, but it won't hurt her to have a bodyguard as well. I'll talk to Mark so he's aware for Michelle and the two children. And Zinovy, you can take on Sara and Caleb.\"\n\nZinovy started to protest, but Archie silenced him. \"I know you two have had your problems, but this is important. You're going to have to put away your petty bickering and make it work.\" Then he was off to talk to Mark.\n\nAnd so it happened that Zinovy and Sara began to spend time together. The situation was uncomfortable, but it made sense, Zinovy admitted. Caleb was already attached like a yo-yo to his side, and Sara was never far from the boy. He resigned himself to the task and prepared to do it diligently.\n\n\"You need to stay close to me,\" he admonished Sara, when Archie told her about the arrangement. \"I can't run off to look for you every time you feel the need to escape. From now on you must recognize that the enemy is outside the camp, not inside—for the sake of Caleb, if not for your own. Do you understand?\" He held her gaze as he spoke.\n\nSara's mouth set in a firm line, but she nodded. Her eyes had not lost their haunted shadows. She looked like an unhappy victim, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Zinovy was pretty sure which one of the two evils she considered him to be. This wasn't going to be an easy assignment.\n\nTheir travel and sleeping arrangements shifted slightly to accommodate the new situation. Sara and Caleb now walked by Zinovy's side, and they rested near him when they stopped along the way. And though she still chose private sleeping quarters, Zinovy always arranged to place his between her and the edge of camp.\n\nFor a time this precaution seemed unnecessary. The travelers settled again into a routine and Zinovy's life became as normal as it had been since the beginning of this strange expedition. But the hidden danger lingered always at the back of his mind.\n\n* * *\n\nAdam and his men were back.\n\nZinovy found them on the outskirts of the campsite when he and Sara and Caleb returned from gathering supper supplies. When she saw the strange men, Sara disappeared with the boy into the greenery bordering the area they'd chosen to sleep in for the night. Zinovy couldn't even guess where she was in the shrubbery, so he figured she'd be safe enough for the time being.\n\nHe noticed immediately the difference in the seven men who stepped forward to greet him. The emaciation of the past was gone. \"I see you found the river,\" Adam said to Zinovy as they met.\n\n\"I was going to say the same to you.\" Zinovy smiled and they shook hands.\n\n\"We didn't find the ocean, however. You were right about that. We decided to give up on Miami and head directly toward the new city as well, so we'll be travelling in the same direction as you folks from here on.\"\n\nAdam and his men had stumbled across the river three days after they'd met the Gaya crew. \"A good thing too,\" Adam admitted. \"I don't think we would have made it much farther. Ironically, it was the eating of the fruit that carried us even that far. We thought it was so damaging, but it sustained us to the river. Lucky break for us.\"\n\nZinovy walked with Adam to the command center where Archie stood talking to Carter. Archie greeted the men with a broad smile. \"It's great to see you looking well,\" he said, and the four men sat down to compare notes.\n\n\"Have you found out anything more about the city?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"A little,\" Adam said. \"Our original assessment hasn't changed. We're still concerned. Of course, now we know how the population survives. They have access to the same food sources we do. And the river, we've discovered, has its source in the city. It runs out under the walls on all four sides and flows several miles through underground channels before it emerges and begins its journey through the rest of the terrain. As near as we can tell, the tributaries we're traveling beside have their source there as well.\"\n\n\"That means we're on the right track then,\" Archie said. \"As long as we follow the river upstream we'll get there.\"\n\n\"Yes, eventually. There may be shorter routes. We're investigating that possibility. If any sort of responsible government is to be established in the new world there will have to be changes in the way things are run, and we'd like to get there to implement those changes as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, 'we?'\" Carter asked. \"Are you talking about just the seven of you?\"\n\nAdam laughed. \"No, certainly not. We seven are part of a much larger coalition. We call ourselves the 'Regulus Movement.'\"\n\n\"Regulus. As in the star?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"That's right,\" Adam said. \"In the constellation, Leo. Interestingly enough, it's also a term relating to the giving of the law. It's in this sense that we connect with it. One of our concerns is with the elimination of anarchy. We see that as the most immediate problem in the new society, especially out here in the hinterlands. The establishment of a just and effective government is essential, we feel, and the sooner the better. Have you seen any evidence of vandal activity, by the way?\"\n\n\"We've had a few sightings. Recovered a weapon in one instance. We're taking precautions.\"\n\nAdam nodded. \"We've had glimpses of them as well. They're elusive, and potentially dangerous, for sure. It's good you're alert.\"\n\nEric walked up just then. \"Adam,\" Archie said. \"I'm not sure you've met Eric.\"\n\nAdam reached out to shake hands.\n\n\"Eric's our Australian crew member—our engineer. He's the one who kept us up and running on the station.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Adam said. \"You're from Down Under. We were just speaking of the hinterlands. You must have been especially disappointed in the destruction of the old world. Kind of put you engineers out of a job, didn't it? It's good to meet you, son.\"\n\nEric frowned. \"A pleasure, I'm sure,\" he said. Zinovy noted he didn't indicate whose pleasure.\n\nArchie brought the conversation back to the new government: \"Do you have current information on how the government is operating in the city?\"\n\n\"The latest news is not good, especially in the area of jurisprudence. The justice system, as far as our men have been able to determine, is totally arbitrary. No laws are in effect. There seem to be societal expectations that serve in their place. No one states them aloud, but activity that is not considered politically correct by the government is repressed, mostly by shame and social disapproval. There is no trial by jury. Unacceptable behavior that continues, despite the social pressure, is dealt with quietly and firmly by the bureaucracy. Non-conformists simply disappear. No one knows where they go.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. He'd been intimately involved in the disappearance of a number of political non-conformists in the past and he had a pretty good idea where they'd gone.\n\n\"And the economy. How's that developing?\" Archie continued.\n\nAdam's report was not encouraging on the economic front either. \"There's no economic system to speak of, at least that we can determine. There's no industrial base, no technology, no progress in any of the areas necessary for the functioning of a successfully progressive society. Life is very primitive, at least outside the city walls.\"\n\n\"How do they function then?\"\n\n\"They're doing without. People are eating and power isn't needed for heat or light, so those deficiencies aren't noticeable, at least to the masses.\"\n\n\"What do they live in? I mean, we're sort of camping, because we're on the move, but that wouldn't work in the long run.\"\n\n\"They're building houses out of quarried stone—or something like stone. The actual material hasn't been identified. Lots of homes are going up outside the city walls, but much material is going through the gates as well. It's obvious a great amount of wealth is going into the central coffers.\n\n\"What's even worse, the resources appear to be distributed by lower-level, incompetent bureaucrats, who throw the wealth away on trivialities instead of investing in things that would stabilize the whole system. One of their recent building projects is a huge playground just outside the walls. It's going all around the city, as near as we can tell, in twelve sections, between the gates.\"\n\n\"Do you have any idea what's inside?\"\n\nAdam shook his head. \"One of our men managed to slip through the gates one day, but a guard found him and ushered him out before he had time to discover much. There is a palace. Our guy saw that much. It's another great waste. Extravagantly adorned. Not showy, but rich—as in costing a lot. Fortunately, there seems to be no end to the wealth. Unfortunately, it has been entrusted to people who will spend it frivolously until the end does come.\"\n\nIt was getting late. Zinovy left the discussion to collect supper for the visitors. He went to find Simon and Ruben. The boys were finishing a rough game of football in the center of the compound. \"Conrad, have you seen Sara and Caleb?\"\n\n\"Humpf. Do we ever see that girl? She runs whenever we're around. But I do seem to remember seeing her head off with the Muellers. I think they were taking the kids off somewhere for supper tonight.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't surprised and he wasn't worried. Mark was capable of taking care of the others. They set to work getting supper, which amounted to putting the vegetation they'd harvested out on a flat area the size of a picnic table in the middle of the compound.\n\n\"Emery, go find more of these crunchy things. Get more of those fat leaves too. We have seven other mouths to feed tonight.\"\n\n\"We won't need a lot more if the others are away,\" Emery pointed out.\n\n\"Well, these are big guys. Get more of the leaves, at least. I'm going back to the conference.\"\n\nCHAPTER FIFTEEN\n\nThe weekly crew meeting was scheduled for that evening. The Canaveral boys, who'd been away in pursuit of a tribe of monkeys they'd seen when they first stopped for the night, gathered in the center of the compound, curious to find out what they'd missed while they were gone. Archie asked Adam to bring them up to date, then the briefing took up where it had left off. Zinovy finished tidying the eating area and wandered over to join in.\n\n\"If you want to change a regime you have to emasculate the bureaucracy,\" Adam was saying as Zinovy approached. Adam glanced up and smiled, moving over to make room beside him. Then he continued. \"The bureaucracy is always where the real power is, especially in systems that have been in place for any length of time.\"\n\n\"But bureaucrats don't have the political clout. It's the politics that matters in the end. At least in more democratic forms of government,\" Archie said.\n\n\"Theoretically, political power should be greater in democracies,\" Adam conceded. \"But sometimes the opposite happens. In democracies, governments change at the whim of the voters, but bureaucrats don't. They're usually protected by seniority, and they're necessary. If they weren't in place during changeovers the structure could not be effectively maintained.\"\n\nAdam summed up: \"The bureaucracy has power at the grass roots. They have their fingers in everything that matters. Infrastructure—infrastructure is everything, and bureaucrats maintain it.\" He grinned and added, \"You might say, the political power is just the head on top of the beer. The bureaucratic system is where all the gusto is.\"\n\nZinovy spoke up then. \"So you're saying the Regulus movement will go after the bureaucracy of this regime? How will that work? Seems a daunting task. Where do you begin?\" He was thinking of the bulky, convoluted bureaucracy in his homeland. Taking it down would be like deconstructing a mountain, boulder by boulder. Only the boulders would be moving, and fighting back.\n\n\"You're right. It will be a daunting task, even in this case where the bureaucratic framework is so young, but it's the only way. And in this instance, where the government is so weak, it will be most effective. Once the bureaucracy is down, the whole regime will fall like a house of cards.\"\n\n\"What makes you think the regime is weak?\" Eric wanted to know.\n\n\"From what our observers have told us the ruler is incompetent. He has no understanding of the importance of internal surveillance or accountability. He gives great autonomy to his minions. He chooses people indiscriminately and just turns them loose. These are the people who make the decisions. They're the ones we need to go after.\"\n\n\"How will you do it?\" Zinovy asked again. \"You'll have to address them one by one if the organization is so loose.\"\n\n\"That's what we'll do. It will take time and it won't be easy. It's kind of like the power in this situation is contained in a sieve, leaking out all the holes. We're going to have to go after the holes and eliminate them, one by one, coming at it from the bottom up.\"\n\n\"What's your strategy?\" Zinovy was still not clear on how this would work.\n\n\"We'll use espionage and propaganda, and a whole lot of manpower. I think we're going to be able to round up enough. The survivors we're finding are desperate for work.\"\n\nZinovy's thoughts were arrested by the espionage and propaganda strategy. \"Intimidation? Will it play a part?\"\n\n\"Do you mean physical intimidation?\"\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\n\"Only as a last resort. Physical intimidation doesn't bring about a permanent change in any government. History has proven that, as you probably well know, Zinovy.\" Adam studied the ground, then added, \"Physical force might be necessary at the end, to topple the central powers. But, until then, persuasion and rational argument—enlightened discussions like the one we're having right now—that will be the approach. The pen is mightier than the sword, as they say.\"\n\nAdam was light years ahead of Elan when it came to understanding human government and society. Zinovy thought back to an earlier conversation he'd had with Elan. He'd asked, straight out, how the economy worked in the new regime. Elan had seemed surprised at the question. \"People just take what they need and leave what they don't,\" he said. That had been the sum total of his explanation.\n\nZinovy had averted his eyes, trying to hide his skepticism. Elan's penetrating gaze always made him uncomfortable. But Elan had moved on, as if everything significant had been said about the subject. Zinovy glanced at the earnest man by his side, comparing the two persons. Adam won, hands down, in intelligence and common sense.\n\nThe light faded. Archie yawned and stretched. \"I'm off to bed,\" he said. \"Will we see you in the morning?\"\n\n\"Probably not. The men have found digs further upriver. I'll be going soon to join them. We want to get an early start tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Good-night, then. I hope we meet again.\"\n\n\"We will, I'm sure. We're still moving slowly, doing some recruiting along the way. We'll be moving faster once we've laid the ground work.\"\n\nArchie left and the others followed. Adam stayed, sitting cross-legged on the ground, twirling a twig between his thumb and forefinger. Zinovy stayed with him, still thinking about the conversation.\n\nPresently Adam spoke. \"Zinovy, you know we're looking for men—good men—to be involved in this thing. We need grunt workers, lots of them, but we also need a few who have what it takes to be at the forefront of the movement.\" He glanced at Zinovy out of the corner of his eye. \"I think you're one of those men.\"\n\nWhen Zinovy didn't answer right away he added, \"There's something else. Another reason I think you might fit in so well.\" He paused. \"I hesitate to bring it up.\" Zinovy looked at him and waited. \"I'm not a superstitious person,\" Adam continued, \"but there's an interesting prophetic twist to this thing. I don't know how much you know about Regulus—the star, I mean, but there are astrological implications.\"\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows.\n\n\"I know,\" Adam went on. \"But hear me out. There's a prophecy that speaks of the star, Regulus, bringing about a change in the legal system on earth—one that will contribute to the well being of the whole world. That's exactly what our movement is about.\"\n\n\"But I don't see any connection—\"\n\nAdam interrupted. \"There may be none,\" he said. \"But the prophecy also says this legal transformation will come about through cooperation between Russia and the United States.\"\n\nHe paused, for effect, then he continued, \"You, Zinovy, are Russia.\"\n\n\"And you are the United States?\"\n\nAdam shrugged. \"Perhaps. The coincidence is intriguing.\"\n\n\"I'm a materialist.\"\n\n\"I know. So am I. But there are elements of this movement—people from other cultural backgrounds—who are superstitious. A certain amount of leniency—tolerance, if you will—is required. Some of the people I'm working with need the reassurance of the supernatural, at least in the beginning. They place a lot of stock in the prophecies. There's more to it, even, than what I've told you. I won't go into it now. But I hope I've at least piqued your interest.\"\n\nThey sat a while longer. Adam was silent, allowing time for his words to settle in. Finally he changed the subject. \"You know, I think I've figured out what happened to the Earth.\" Zinovy turned to the other man with interest. Adam broke the twig in his hands and tossed it away. \"I think we were hit by an asteroid.\"\n\n\"An asteroid?\" Zinovy had considered that theory and discarded it. \"It would have to have been a damn big one. How could the earth have survived?\"\n\n\"This kind of thing has happened in the past. Things aren't always destroyed when asteroids come, they're just changed. You're a scientist. You know the theory that an asteroid might have led to the extinction of the dinosaurs. I think it's happened again. We've been fortunate to survive the change. In fact, it was a fortuitous event all around in my opinion—an event that has advanced the evolutionary process tremendously.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"I believe the triumph of secular humanism is at hand, finally. It almost came seven years ago. When the Supreme Commander took over and ushered in the New Era, many of us believed the evolutionary process had brought us to rational rule, at last.\"\n\n\"And had it not?\" Zinovy realized he was asking a lot of questions.\n\n\"What do you think? Remember how it worked? Or didn't work. In the end, lawlessness was rampant. He made a good attempt. There were advances. Secularization of society was a huge step. But there were still too many obstacles, and the humanist element was missing. That was the big problem. We believe the Regulus movement will be able to provide that missing link—to complete the process.\"\n\nAdam took the blade of grass he'd been chewing on out of his mouth and crushed it between his fingers. \"The astronomical event cleared the way.\" He looked up and grinned. \"So you might say the future was in the stars after all.\"\n\nAdam must have seen the hesitation on Zinovy's face. \"Think about it,\" he said. \"I'll be back. We can talk more then.\" He clapped a friendly hand on Zinovy's shoulder and stood to go.\n\nZinovy stopped him. \"Hold on. I want to ask one more thing. I know you said you can't give out information on what you hear through your network about the old regime, but can you verify information for me if I give it to you?\"\n\nAdam frowned. \"Possibly. What did you want to know?\"\n\nZinovy stood up and put his hands in his pockets. \"I'd like to know if you've ever heard the name, Anton Vasiliev. He worked for the FSB at St. Petersburg. Do you know, by any chance, if he survived the event?\"\n\nAdam studied the ground, his brows knitted. \"The name doesn't ring a bell. I haven't been in contact with him. But that doesn't mean he didn't survive.\" He looked up. \"Why do you ask?\"\n\nAgain, the image of Nadya, broken and bleeding, flashed before Zinovy's eyes. Would the crimson splashes of blood ever become less vivid? He shuddered inwardly, but outwardly he shrugged. \"No particular reason. He was someone I worked with before I went to the space station. I wondered if he was still around, that's all.\"\n\nAdam nodded. \"I know what you mean. We lost a lot of good friends in that catastrophe. But we have to carry on and make the best of what's left.\"\n\nHe reached out to shake Zinovy's hand. \"I'll see you soon. We need to talk further.\" Zinovy nodded a curt good-bye and headed off to find Sara and Caleb. He was nearly out of earshot when Adam called to him. \"Oh, Zinovy, there's one thing I didn't mention.\" He trotted over and lowered his voice. \"I don't know if this matters to you, but joining us would be financially advantageous as well. We have funds to promote our cause.\"\n\nZinovy was surprised at the mention of money. It had been a long time since he'd even thought about finances. \"What kind of funds?\" he asked, curious.\n\n\"They're solid. We have gold reserves. We're planning, once the regime change occurs, to re-institute the old currency system. We can make you a wealthy man, Zinovy.\" He studied the Russian's face for a moment, then turned and went without pressing the matter further.\n\nAdam's parting words had no impact on Zinovy. His financial needs had always been minimal, his income more than adequate. Part of his salary had gone to support his aunt during the last years of her life. She was a widow by the time he started earning, and his two older cousins had been killed in the Syrian campaign of the last war. The small government stipend she received after their deaths had been inadequate to provide for her, and to support the drinking habits of the one son who had survived. Another large part of Zinovy's earnings had gone to a young girl who'd lost her fiancé in an unfortunate incident for which Zinovy felt some responsibility.\n\nBut he'd stopped the support to his family when his aunt died, leaving his cousin to fend for himself. And three years later the vouchers he sent to the girl began to be returned unredeemed. He finally quit sending them. After that the salary had simply collected in his account, with minimal draws to cover the cost of basic necessities. Money wasn't an incentive for Zinovy.\n\nBut the challenge of the proposal intrigued him. If they survived—if the human race survived—there would be a need for effective government. The chance to be involved—to be a part of putting it in place and making it work—that would be a meaningful way to spend whatever time he had left. Regulus was an option he would consider.\n\nThere was something reassuring about having a viable option again, after he'd completed the mission he was already on. Maybe the two could even go together.\n\nSara and Caleb had found beds on the edge of the compound, probably to avoid the meeting noise. He chose a spot near them and settled down for the night. It was late, but tomorrow was a rest day. He decided he'd sleep in for a change.\n\n* * *\n\nIn what seemed like minutes it was morning. Early morning.\n\nA few gregarious birds greeted the day. Zinovy woke slowly—enjoying the luxury beneath him—the downy softness of the green tuft of his bed. He wiggled the toes on his left foot, testing, as he had almost every morning since they'd landed, to see if he was still alive. He was.\n\nWhat had wakened him? It wasn't the birdsong. Something else. Ah, yes. It must have been the pin-prick indentations pattering up the valley between his arm and his right side. Now they danced around on the plateau between his shoulder blades, then turned and scurried back down to the ground beside him.\n\nHe lay unmoving, determined not to be disturbed. A small animal. Bigger than a mouse, but smaller than a rabbit. A squirrel, he was sure. He opened one eye and gazed through the deep, wavering rose of the morning air at a small knee resting in the cradle of a couple of arms two feet away from his nose. Below the cradle was a suitably sized bare shin, and a row of five toes tapped an impatient rhythm in the moss beside Zinovy's bed. He closed the eye again. This little living alarm clock was going off earlier every morning.\n\nHe knew it was early by the hue of the rainbow-colored air. Early morning tints were darker, deeper—not less colorful, but distinctly richer. He was almost able, by now, to make an educated guess at the time by the richness of the tone. These tints indicated about 06:00.\n\nHe cautiously reopened his left eye, feeling the indentations thrum up his sleeve once again. This time they hesitated only slightly, then traveled across his shoulders, down past the crook of his left arm, over the mossy ground and up onto the cradled arms of the alarm clock.\n\nA fluff of tail brushed the boy's face as the tiny paws burrowed industriously into the small, loose fist where the remainder of the cache of seeds lay.\n\n\"Hi, Novy,\" said Caleb, leaning over, filling Zinovy's field of vision with two twinkling brown orbs.\n\n\"'Zi-novy', Caleb,\" the sleepy man corrected. \"Don't talk like a baby.\"\n\n\"Za-novy,\" repeated the boy, mimicking the accented first syllable obediently.\n\n\"Go back to bed, Caleb. It's too early to get up.\"\n\n\"But he woke me up. He was hungry.\" Zinovy caught a glimpse of the boy's hand stroking the squirrel's back before his eye went shut again.\n\nIt was a lost cause. Experience had taught him that when Caleb woke, the situation never reversed itself. Zinovy finally rolled over, pulled himself up, and the two went off in search of breakfast.\n\n* * *\n\nWhen breakfast was over, Caleb ran off for a swim with the Mueller children and Zinovy took his book down by the river where he could keep an eye on them.\n\nSara wandered over and sat down. She'd seemed more relaxed with him lately, maybe because he'd done his best to ignore her. It wasn't entirely possible, since she and the boy were in his care—'custody,' she called it—but as long as she was in sight, he could more or less pretend she wasn't there.\n\nIgnoring her wasn't that easy to do today, though. She was in a talkative mood. He buried his nose in his book, wanting to finish the section he was reading before dinner. He must have given her some response, however, because she was asking, \"Do you think it could have something to do with God?\"\n\nHe had no idea what 'it' was, but he knew the answer to the question. \"There is no God.\"\n\n\"Oh really? You use his name a lot.\"\n\n\"It is a slang expression,\" he explained without looking up.\n\nShe was quiet for a full five minutes before she interrupted him again, \"You know, sometimes it's like you're in your own little world—not the real one at all,\" she said. He rolled his eyes. The reading was obviously not going to happen. He put the book in his lap, marking the place with a finger, just in case.\n\nThe temptation to say there was no such thing as a 'real' world flitted through his mind. Adam had stirred a hunger in him for intelligent conversation, but any attempt at philosophical debate would be lost on her. She continued to study him, though, as if she expected a reply.\n\nHe studied her as well, noting the direct gaze and the quizzical tilt to her right eyebrow, and decided to respond. It couldn't hurt.\n\n\"There's no such thing as a real world,\" he said. \"People create their own reality.\" Then he resolutely closed his book and prepared to enter her innocent, childlike world for a while. He was amazed at her naivete—repelled somewhat by it, yet drawn—curious.\n\nBut she was not quite ready to leave his world. She sat up, skewered him with a look of disdain, and said, \"That's nonsense. Reality cannot be created by people. People can only create their own perception of reality, and that's an entirely different thing.\"\n\nHe blinked, almost squinting against the fire in the gaze she returned. He straightened. This was not the language of a child. He decided to respond to the challenge he read in her eyes.\n\n\"What are the 'bright ones' then? Are they 'real', or are they just Caleb's perception of reality?\" Then he added one more possibility: \"Or are they perhaps real, but just invisible?\" He folded his arms.\n\nSara turned over onto her stomach, plucked a blade of grass and began worrying it between her teeth. Skipping over his first two suggestions, she went directly to the third. \"It's not that they're invisible,\" she said. \"You just can't see them.\"\n\n\"Isn't that the same?\"\n\n\"No, it's not.\" Her brow furrowed. \"It's not the same. Something can be visible without our being able to see it. It's there, it's real, but we look past it. That happens all the time.\"\n\nShe squinted up at him, pulling the limp piece of grass from her teeth. \"Just think of all that goes on around us that we don't notice. Insects crawling through the grass, water creeping up the stems of plants, birds preening in their nests above us. Even things that happen under our noses we can miss if our thoughts are elsewhere.\" She peeked around him, then looked back and grinned. \"You don't know everything, you know.\"\n\nTwo grubby hands reached around from behind and fastened over Zinovy's eyes. \"Guess who,\" Caleb said, clambering over his shoulder and tumbling into his arms. They wrestled, then Caleb was off again.\n\nZinovy wasn't prepared to let the discussion end. He needed to clarify the basic flaw in her argument. \"All things you spoke of were physical things—things that can be seen by the eyes if we pay attention. The 'bright ones'—what Caleb sees—that's a whole other matter. If such beings were real, it should be obvious to us.\"\n\n\"Maybe not.\" She cocked her head and grinned at him. \"You're right about the physical thing. I was teasing you.\" He frowned and she went on. \"But what if there really are non-physical realities that cannot be perceived by our physical senses?\"\n\nZinovy studied Sara, sprawled on her belly in the warm grass, propped on her elbows, feet intertwined above her, gently rocking back and forth over her lithe body. She was staring into the distance now. He had the uncanny feeling she was looking at things he couldn't even imagine.\n\n\"Eric was right,\" he said, half to himself. \"You do have a brain.\"\n\nShe transferred her gaze to his eyes, then looked away. \"Learning has always come easy.\"\n\nHe thought about her heritage. How much did she know? How much would she tell him? \"Do you know anything about your father?\" he asked.\n\nSara stiffened and sat up abruptly. Zinovy thought she would get up and leave. She didn't, but the reserve in her posture told him the conversation was over. Then she turned and responded with a directness that surprised him.\n\n\"Do you mean the man who raped my mother?\" She paused long enough to make her point, then looked away again and went on. \"He was down from college for spring break. He did it on a dare. A frat house prank. Then he went back to Yale and became a Rhodes Scholar.\" Her body slumped, the challenge gone.\n\nIt didn't make sense, Zinovy mused. \"The man had to have intelligence,\" he said, thinking out loud. But what he had done . . .\n\nAs if in response to his thoughts she said, \"There's a difference between intelligence and wisdom. Intelligent people can be fools, you know.\"\n\n\"That's an oxymoron.\"\n\n\"No, it's not. Intelligence is the ability to think and know. It's in the mind. Wisdom is in the heart. It's the ability to discern goodness and to embrace it. My father might have been intelligent, but he was a fool.\"\n\nThey were quiet for a moment. \"Do you know that for sure?\"\n\nShe rolled onto her back again and gazed into the sky. \"No, I guess not.\" She lay there, her brows knit. \"But it was a foolish thing he did.\"\n\nZinovy agreed, but he couldn't help thinking, perplexed as he was at the possibility, how much good had come out of this man's evil. The goodness was filling his senses at the moment.\n\n\"Isn't that Plato you're reading?\" she asked, her eyes following the flight of an eagle soaring almost beyond their view. Then, without waiting for a response she went on: \"I agree with him. The Idea is the reality. But I don't think the Idea is impersonal. Like I was trying to say before when you weren't listening, I think the Idea might be God.\"\n\nThe morning was gone and Caleb came back. Sara jumped to her feet, grabbed his hand and ran off to join the other children at the river. Zinovy stared after her for a long time.\n\n* * *\n\n\"There's been another sighting.\"\n\nThey'd traveled two days without incident, but now Archie summoned Zinovy and Eric to the group of trees he'd chosen as headquarters for the night. It was early evening and they'd just arrived, coming abruptly upon the scouts who'd been waiting uneasily in a clump of bushes by the river.\n\nThe sighting had occurred in the late afternoon, as Mike and Conrad were about to end their scouting for the day. \"We decided not to come back and tell you,\" Conrad said. \"You were only an hour behind us and the vandals were heading upriver, so we thought it would be better to stay and keep an eye on things here until you came.\" Now the two stood, shifting from one foot to the other, giving the details to the three older men.\n\n\"Did they see you?\" Zinovy asked.\n\n\"No. We saw them first and hid quick.\"\n\n\"What were they doing?\" Eric asked.\n\n\"I think they were getting water. They were on the riverbank, then they moved up and off into the shrubbery over there.\" Mike pointed away from the river to a clump of foliage nearby.\n\n\"What made you think they were going upriver?\" Archie asked.\n\nThe boys looked at each other. \"I don't know,\" Mike said. \"It just didn't look like they were heading back toward you all so we didn't think too much about it.\"\n\nJust then Grace joined them. \"Zinovy, have you seen Sara? She was with me when we stopped, but she wandered off and I haven't seen her since. Caleb is here, but he doesn't know where she is either. I'm kind of worried. It's been—\"\n\nZinovy swore. \"Where were you when she went?\" he snapped.\n\nGrace pointed behind them. \"Back there, by the river, about—\"\n\nZinovy was off before she'd finished her sentence, running toward the shrubbery by the riverbank. He burst into the brush and nearly tripped over Sara, who was just pulling up her jeans.\n\nHe grabbed her arm. \"Where have you been?\"\n\n\"I've been using the facilities. Do you mind?\"\n\nIn passing, it registered that this was the first time he had touched her since their meeting. She was obviously rattled by his forcefulness, her flesh seeming to shrink under his hand, but he was shaken too, and he held on, determined to make his point. \"You need to say if you're going off, remember? Why didn't you tell me?\"\n\n\"Because you weren't around. You were with Caleb at the moment and I was in a hurry.\" She wrested her arm from his grasp. \"What is your problem? You're so uptight about everything. Take a pill, will you?\"\n\nWith difficulty, he controlled the urge to throttle her. Instead, he leaned down into her face and spoke deliberately, enunciating his words: \"I was afraid something had happened to you. You remember, do you not, that there are enemies around?\"\n\n\"Yes I remember. I can't forget. I'm reminded every time you open your mouth at me.\"\n\n\"Do not sass me, young lady. If you had sense you would realize who is the real enemy and would not make yourself so hard to take care of. You could die out here.\"\n\n\"Take care of,\" she repeated. \"That's crap. You don't care about me. You only care about your job. It's your job to watch me. If I died it would mean you had failed at your job, and you'd die before you'd admit you were a failure at anything.\"\n\nShe straightened up, put her hands on her hips, and bellowed into his face: \"You do not control me. Get that in your head. You want to control everything. Well, I'll tell you something. You can't. You're not God. You can't control anything. And you'll never control me. I am my own person.\"\n\nZinovy recoiled, stung by her accusation. He cast around for a reply that was sufficiently withering. Finally he said, \"You're right about one thing. You are your own person. You certainly don't belong to anyone else. No one else would have you.\"\n\nHe was shocked by her reaction. Her hands dropped to her sides; her shoulders slumped. Her eyes narrowed and then filled with tears. He found himself wanting to back up—to start over—to swallow the words he'd just said. But he couldn't. They were out, and they had been sufficiently withering.\n\nThe anguish lasted for only a second, then she was herself again. The fire in her eyes flashed through her tears, scalding him. \"You beast.\" She spit the words out. \"You're just like my father. You don't care about anyone but yourself.\" Then she turned on her heel and marched toward camp, back straight, chin in the air.\n\nExasperated, he yelled after her. \"I am not your father, Sara.\"\n\nShe continued walking. He watched her for a moment, then added, \"You should be glad I'm not. If I were your father I'd put you over my knee and spank your behind.\"\n\nZinovy shook his head as he stomped back toward camp, muttering under his breath. It occurred to him that the role of an assassin was far easier than the role of a protector. Reaching the edge of the compound, he looked up to find Eric leaning against an ash tree, arms folded across his chest, grinning at him. \"Having woman problems again, Mate?\"\n\nZinovy kept walking and Eric fell in beside him. \"I'm going to find a latrine,\" Zinovy announced. \"Are you coming with me?\"\n\n\"Sure. I could use a latrine.\"\n\nThe kid was incorrigible.\n\n\"I've been wanting to tell you, remember when we were talking about our girlfriends?\"\n\nZinovy grunted.\n\n\"I've been reading this religious book my girlfriend gave me just before she died.\" He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out the little red book.\n\nZinovy stopped and glared at him. \"Religious book? You have a religious book?\" Eric nodded. \"Why didn't you tell us when we planned the funerals?\"\n\n\"I forgot.\"\n\nZinovy started on again, Eric at his heels. \"I had it stuck away in my kit. It was more of a souvenir, a kind of good luck charm. She gave it to me one day when we were arguing about her religion. I glanced through it at the time, but never opened it again until now. I've been reading it on this trip.\" Eric looked down at the paperback in his hand and riffled through the pages. \"It's interesting,\" he said.\n\n\"You think everything is 'interesting'.\"\n\n\"Well, most everything is. But this is something else again. I don't know why I didn't notice before.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"It's kind of hard to explain. You should probably just read it for yourself. I'll loan it to you when I'm done with it,\" he offered. \"Or, hey. Some of us are studying it together. You could hang out with us next time we read it.\" He looked embarrassed. \"I mean if you're bored or something.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Zinovy replied. \"I'll take a rain check on that.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't bored. Restless, maybe, but not bored. Life was still too unsettled. He woke up every morning reviewing the problems they might encounter during the day. At this particular moment there were none, but . . . . As soon as the thought entered his brain, alarm bells went off. If there had been any wood around he would have knocked on it.\n\n* * *\n\nThey were four hours into their journey the next day when it happened. Archie was leading the way, as usual. The group had spread out and Archie sent Zinovy back to check on the stragglers. The boys had taken Caleb for the morning and Zinovy was alarmed when he realized how far behind they were. He found them stopped beside a tamarind tree staring up at the sky.\n\n\"Look.\" Caleb spoke from his perch on Graham's shoulders, pointing to the top branches of a tall tree. \"Up there. There's three of them.\"\n\n\"Three what?\" Zinovy asked.\n\nMike pointed. \"Monkeys. We've found monkeys again.\"\n\nZinovy let out an exasperated sigh. \"Is that what's keeping you? Didn't you notice how far behind you are? Where's Raheem? Raheem, you were supposed to lead this pack of layabouts. What's happened to you? We'll never get anywhere this way. If you can't watch animals and walk at same time you need to forget the watching and do the walking. Now hightail it. Archie's impatient with the dawdling.\"\n\nHe fell in behind them to make sure his orders were followed, and within minutes they'd reached the tail end of the group ahead. \"Now put Caleb down,\" Zinovy said. \"He needs to walk more. He doesn't get tired enough.\"\n\nZinovy pushed forward to report to Archie. He reached the commander's side just as Simon and Ruben came racing into camp. They'd been scouting ahead, and Zinovy hadn't expected to see them until suppertime. Something had gone wrong.\n\nCHAPTER SIXTEEN\n\nThe two boys were talking at once. \"Hold on,\" Archie commanded. \"One at a time.\"\n\nSimon took a deep breath and spoke: \"We found some blood,\" he blurted.\n\n\"Lots,\" Ruben said.\n\nArchie looked at Zinovy, then back at the two panting boys. \"Details. Give us the details. Where did you find it?\"\n\n\"Simon was taking a leak in the bushes,\" Ruben said. \"If we hadn't stopped there we might have passed by without seeing. He saw the blood on the shrubs in front of him. I thought he was peeing blood when he first told me. It damn near scared the life out of me, but the blood was on the bushes already.\"\n\nSimon chimed in. \"There was a trail of blood leading away from the river. Ruben thought we should follow it, but I said we should come back and tell you first.\"\n\n\"How fresh?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"Pretty fresh,\" Ruben said. \"I mean, you know things like that don't last long in this atmosphere. It was still wet.\"\n\nArchie looked at Zinovy again. \"You'd better go with them and check it out. I'll wait here with the others. No sense in taking them all into the middle of something messy.\"\n\nZinovy hesitated. \"I'll stay with the others. It might be better if you went.\"\n\n\"No. It makes more sense for you to go. If there's trouble ahead you're better able to deal with it. You're our military, Zinovy. Your hands are the best weapon we've got.\"\n\n\"Can I go too?\" Eric asked.\n\n\"Yes, do. If there's trouble Zinovy shouldn't face it alone.\"\n\nThe bloody trail began a hundred meters upriver. The boys had left a handkerchief at the spot and within minutes they stumbled onto the place. Zinovy snatched the marker from the branch and studied the crimson-tainted greenery.\n\nThe boys and Eric looked at him. \"We'd better follow it,\" he said, frowning.\n\nBlood was everywhere—a steady stream on the ground and great bursts of it on the bushes along the way, as if a beating heart had been carried, raw, through the underbrush. The crew followed the splashes, growing brighter and more abundant as they went, until, suddenly, they pressed through a thick copse of aspen trees and came upon the scene. Zinovy glanced at the five dead lions before him, then he swung away and donated his breakfast to the squirrels. When he turned back, Eric was watching him, eyebrows raised. Zinovy frowned again.\n\nThe male had been killed first from the look of it. He was lying at the edge of the massacre site. The lioness lay behind him a short distance away. She had obviously tried to defend her three cubs. Their bodies sprawled awkwardly on the grass near their mother. One lean arm of the lioness was draped over the smallest of the three, whose severed throat still oozed a deep, red slurry of saliva and blood onto the ground beside its limp paw.\n\nThere was no sign that the lions had attacked first. The adults had fought hard, but the pose of the corpses was defensive, and the cubs lying around them would not have been a threat to anyone strong enough to inflict this kind of damage. The crimson stains splattered over the scene appeared to come only from the brutalized bodies of the lions. It was a senseless slaughter—a bloody travesty done to a family of beautiful animals. Zinovy went down on one knee, a vision of tiny dead chicks swimming before his eyes.\n\nSimon and Ruben stared, transfixed.\n\nEric stepped over to the body of the large male and stooped down. He examined the gaping hole in the lion's chest, then he looked at Zinovy.\n\n\"What kind of weapon, do you think?\"\n\nZinovy was still swallowing. He shook his head.\n\n\"The second butcher knife?\"\n\n\"Possibly.\" Zinovy forced himself to join Eric beside the body.\n\nEric went on, \"The throat wounds are vicious, but the chest wounds in the male look almost surgical. An incision down the breastbone, and clean slices around the edge of the chest cavity, where the heart was.\"\n\n\"I don't think a butcher knife did this. It would take a much stronger blade to cut through ribs. Stronger and more pointed, I think.\"\n\n\"It was a ceremonial killing.\"\n\nZinovy started and whirled around. Elan stood quietly beside the boys. A thundercloud loomed above his eyes and lightning darted from the pupils. Later, when those lightning flashes were directed at him, Zinovy would remember the shiver of fear that flashed through him at the sight of those eyes that day.\n\n\"You'd better get back to camp,\" Elan said. And he disappeared.\n\nFor once, Zinovy was inclined to follow the man's instructions. He turned to go, glad to put the scene behind him.\n\nHe took one step then halted. The shrubbery by his foot quivered. He leaned down and parted the branches of a spineless holly bush and there, eyes closed as if in deep mourning, was a lion cub. The cub's mouth opened and a muted sorrow poured from his tiny throat. Zinovy reached out and gathered the small form into his arms.\n\nThe others watched in silence. Eric finally said, \"What do we do with him?\"\n\nZinovy considered. Again, it struck him how much easier it was to kill than to protect. He looked down at the cub, cold and trembling in his arms. \"We take him home,\" he said. Then he tucked the orphan under his shirt and headed out, acutely aware of the frantic beat of the little heart pounding so close to his own.\n\n\"Archie might not approve,\" Simon said.\n\n\"To hell with Archie,\" Zinovy muttered.\n\n* * *\n\nSara sat with Caleb under a coconut tree, snuggling close as much for her own comfort as for his.\n\n\"When will Novy come back?\" Caleb asked.\n\n\"I don't know, honey. Probably soon. We just have to be patient.\"\n\n\"What's 'patient'?\"\n\nHer explanation was a temporary distraction. By the time she'd finished the men had returned. She watched from her place under the tree, holding Caleb back until Zinovy had finished talking to Archie. They spoke for some time, then Zinovy looked around.\n\nShe avoided his glance. They'd walked together since their spat, but the air between them now glittered with more than the radiant colors of the rainbow. The silence between them would have been excruciating if Caleb had not filled it with his constant chatter.\n\nCaleb extracted himself from her grasp and ran to Zinovy. Sara studied the Russian's rugged face, watching it soften as he stooped down. She couldn't reconcile the gentleness as he spoke to the boy with the harshness he usually lavished on her.\n\nCaleb listened for a while, head bowed. Then he looked up, his face beaming. He reached out, took something from Zinovy's hands, turned on his heel and ran back to her. In his clutches was a tiny lion cub, feet flailing, fuzzy head bobbing with the movement of the boy's awkward gait. Caleb screeched to a halt and thrust the little animal into her arms.\n\n\"Look, Sara. Look what Novy gave me. It's a present he found in the forest.\" He danced around, jostling the lion cub in his excitement, unable to keep his hands away for long. Finally he snatched the cub from her and ran off to show the others.\n\nSara looked over at Zinovy, who stood watching the boy present his treasure to Alex. Where on earth . . . ? She wasn't the only one with questions. Everyone headed in Caleb's direction.\n\nAfter the scouts had told their story, Sara drew Caleb away from the crowd. He needed to eat something, but he was too excited to settle down. She plucked an apple and placed it in his one free hand. As she sat down to munch on her own, she pondered. This man was a mystery. How could a person be so obnoxious, yet sometimes be so hard to dislike?\n\n* * *.\n\nTwo days had passed since the cub had joined their party. There were side benefits to the new arrangement. Caleb was so absorbed in his new pet that he no longer hung on Zinovy's arm. He named the cub Aslan, after the lion in his birthday book, and the two became inseparable.\n\n\"You need some way to carry him,\" Simon said. He took one of his tee shirts and created a sling that fit nicely over Caleb's shoulder. The cub rode in style from then on, napping most of the day, emerging rested and ready to play when they stopped for the night.\n\nThe Canaveral crew were as enamored with the little lion as Caleb was.\n\n\"Can we have Caleb this afternoon?\" Ruben asked Zinovy as they packed up from their lunch stop on the second day of their journey after discovering the lion kill. \"We'll take good care of him.\"\n\n\"No. I want him nearby.\"\n\n\"We'll stay near you then. Just let him walk with us for a while. We'll be right in front of you, okay?\" Simon pleaded.\n\nZinovy relented. The boys took Caleb and moved ahead a few paces, but Zinovy's eyes followed them. The lion kill had heightened his anxiety. Somewhere out there vicious men lurked, with no compunctions about killing innocent animals. Innocent people could be next.\n\nSara had remained aloof since their fight, but he didn't care. He'd told her again, sternly, that both she and the boy had to stay within arms reach of him at all times. This was perhaps a little extreme, and they did stray farther than that, but the tether had been shortened. Sara tugged on the line constantly, but she tested his limits only so far.\n\nIt was impossible, under the circumstances, for them to remain silent. Gradually they began speaking again, stepping adroitly around the topic of their latest quarrel, each tacitly agreeing to leave that incident behind them. But it took time.\n\nZinovy's unease about the killing of the lions delayed the reconciliation. He had nightmares about the blood. He needed to exorcise the vision from his mind—replace it with a saner one. He looked around him for that saner vision and saw the girl, striding silently by his side. Her vitality was certainly a contrast to the death scene that haunted his dreams.\n\nHe frowned down at her and said, \"Tell me about yourself.\"\n\nShe appeared as surprised as he at the abrupt question. She cocked her head and studied him for a moment, then she smiled at the ground and said, \"There's not much to tell. I've lived a pretty uneventful life.\"\n\n\"Surviving the end of the world is not uneventful,\" he pointed out. \"How did that happen? You never told us.\"\n\nShe frowned. \"I don't know. I honestly don't. We just went to sleep one night and woke up the next morning in this new world.\"\n\n\"Adam said it was a great earthquake that lasted half an hour. You don't remember any of that?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"We were exhausted.\" She sneezed, wiped her nose on her sleeve, and went on: \"We'd traveled a couple days from the protectorate, then we stopped for that one last night, and when we woke up everything had changed. The next day—or maybe two days later, I don't remember for sure—we came upon the clearing and saw your shuttle.\"\n\n\"And I saw you,\" he said. \"Out the window.\"\n\nShe looked up at him. \"You did?\"\n\nHe nodded. Then he chuckled. \"I thought I was losing my mind.\" They walked on a few steps and he added, \"I still think that sometimes.\"\n\nHe looked down and caught her studying his face. \"You know what I think?\" she said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I think you think too much.\"\n\nHe laughed out loud this time. \"Too much Plato?\"\n\n\"Yes. Definitely too much Plato.\"\n\n\"What's wrong with Plato?\"\n\n\"Nothing, to a point. But Plato can only take you so far. You have to go the rest of the way without thinking so hard.\"\n\nThat would be impossible, of course. She was talking nonsense, but her banter had lightened his mind. \"But you,\" he said. \"Surely you think sometimes, even if you disdain the process. What do you think about?\"\n\nShe sobered. \"I think about the past a lot.\"\n\n\"Is that pleasant?\"\n\n\"Not usually. I think back too far, I guess.\"\n\n\"To your beginnings?\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"What is the thing that drives you?\"\n\nShe answered immediately. \"What drives me is anger.\"\n\nHer candor surprised him. She looked stunned herself. \"I don't know why I said that.\"\n\n\"Maybe because it is true.\" He waited, then asked: \"What angers you?\"\n\nShe straightened. \"I will never forgive the man who raped my mother.\"\n\nThey walked for a while in silence. \"It's an amazing thing you're even here.\" Zinovy finally said.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well, why didn't they just . . . \" He paused.\n\nShe looked up, her head cocked in that distinctive manner he was becoming accustomed to. \"Abort?\" she finished for him.\n\nHe nodded. \"Better for your mother, I would think.\"\n\nShe looked down. \"It didn't occur to them she might be pregnant. They thought she was sterile. It was four months before anyone noticed.\"\n\n\"But even then—\" He hurried to amend the thought: \"I mean, it's good they didn't, but I'm surprised. It would have been—\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, finishing his sentence. \"It would have been the most sensible solution.\"\n\nHe studied her, alive and wholesome—perfectly formed as far as he could tell—and the words she'd echoed—his words—suddenly sounded hollow.\n\n\"Zinovy, what do you think?\" Her eyebrows drew down. \"If all other considerations were out of the way—what was best for the woman, or society, or even for the child—if there were never any reason for ending a pregnancy . . . \" She paused, as if her thoughts were forming as she spoke. \"If nothing else mattered, when would you say a fetus becomes a human being?\" She squinted up at him again. \"What would be the most logical assumption?\"\n\nIt was a serious question. He had to think about it. When he didn't answer immediately, she went on: \"Killing a human being is murder, no matter how old it is, right? What if a human being is created at conception?\"\n\nZinovy's past rose up before him. He decided to ignore the first question, and respond to the second. \"No one knows when a human being becomes human. We'll never know. It's impossible to find out.\"\n\nHis statement should have ended the discussion. Somehow he knew it wouldn't.\n\n\"If we don't know for certain that a fetus isn't a human, then we'd maybe better not kill it, just in case, don't you think?\" she asked, arching her brows and frowning at him as if he were the one contemplating murder. \"I mean, if we were going to blow up a building, and there was no way to find out if there was a person inside before we did it, wouldn't we decide we'd better not blow it up, just in case?\"\n\nThe girl had read too much Plato. \"There are other considerations. It's not that simple.\"\n\n\"Maybe.\" Again, the discussion should have been over, ended with her inconclusive remark. But he noticed the pucker return to the fine, dark line of her brow, and he knew it wasn't really over for her. Looking down at the top of her bowed head he realized it probably wasn't over for him either.\n\nShe studied her footsteps, deep in thought. \"If my father had been there it would have made all the difference in the world. But he wasn't. He didn't even know I existed.\"\n\nAnd there the conversation did end. Sara withdrew and he sensed it would be futile to try to bring her back. They walked in silence for the rest of the day.\n\n* * *\n\nThe crew meeting that night was brief. Archie reiterated the need for extreme caution. \"We know nothing more of the danger, but it's out there,\" he said.\n\nThe next week's scouting roster was announced. \"Has anyone seen Elan?\" No one had. \"I guess we don't need him, but it would be good if we could ask more about the killings.\"\n\nThe lion kill remained a hot topic. \"Maybe it would be wise for one of us to carry the knife,\" Archie said. He looked around at the group. \"How about you, Eric?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't know how to use it.\"\n\n\"It might be good to learn how to use one. Zinovy, you could teach him.\"\n\nZinovy's gut knotted. \"I haven't had a lot of experience with knives.\"\n\n\"Oh, come on. You know the basics. Give him some lessons. We all could do with some instruction.\"\n\nAnd so Zinovy went to bed thinking about knives.\n\n* * *\n\n\"Novy, Novy,\" Caleb cried, \"Come quick! It's Sara!\" The frenzy in the boy's voice as he shook Zinovy from his slumber brought him instantly to his feet.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\nThe boy pointed, terror strangling his voice.\n\nZinovy sped toward the place where Sara had bedded down for the night, something cold grasping at his chest.\n\nOne look at the scene before him and the chill was replaced by hot anger. Sara lay on her back, her chest bared, arms pinned beneath her. A large man knelt on her shirt sleeves, holding them to the ground. He straddled her lower body. His hands groped for her breasts, a deep chortle issuing from his throat.\n\nZinovy was on him in an instant.\n\nIt was the first time Zinovy had killed for hate. The sharp twist of the neck was quick—better than the man deserved. When it was over, Zinovy turned to look at the girl. She had pulled herself up to a sitting position. She clutched her shirt to her chest and stared back at him, wild-eyed.\n\nWithout conscious thought, he went over, crouched down and gathered her trembling body into his arms. Too late he realized she might not welcome the embrace of any man right then, but to his surprise she immediately relaxed, shrinking down into his cradled arms as if to hide there, allowing him to hold her close until the shivering finally slowed and ended. Then she began to sob.\n\nZinovy looked up. Archie stood nearby, holding a hand behind him to arrest the approach of the other crew members. \"Keep back, folks. It's over now. Let's give them some space.\" He looked back. \"Where's Caleb? Is he okay?\"\n\nZinovy caught a glimpse of the boy huddled a few feet away, sheltered in Grace's arms, then he turned back to the weeping girl in his arms.\n\nHer sobs were great, racking ones that seemed to come from the depths of her being. Unsure what to do, he continued to hold her, rocking back and forth for what seemed an eternity. Finally her crying subsided, but she remained resting against him.\n\nEventually she sighed, a deep shuddering sigh, and lifted her face to his. He looked for signs of the ravage she had experienced, but found none. Peace rested there. Exhaustion, yes, but a deep peace as well. Neither spoke. He lifted her to her feet, turning her away from the dark body sprawled lifeless in the corner of her bower, and they walked away.\n\nGrace waited for them at the edge of the clearing. Zinovy handed Sara over to her and walked on to the compound where he was surprised to discover a prisoner. Silent and sullen, the second vandal glared up at him. His hands and feet were bound and Ruben and Simon stood guard, one on either side.\n\n\"Where did he come from?\" Zinovy asked.\n\n\"He was there with the other guy,\" Eric said. \"Behind you.\" He tossed a butcher knife on the ground as he spoke.\n\nZinovy looked at it, a twin to the one they had in their baggage, and the hackles rose on the back of his neck. He'd been so focused on the man attacking Sara he hadn't even considered there might be another. Eric had saved his life, and probably Sara's as well.\n\nHe looked up at Eric with gratitude. \"Once again, I owe you.\"\n\nEric grinned. \"No worries.\"\n\n\"There may be more,\" Archie said. He scanned the surrounding trees. \"How many did Sara say were involved in the raid of the protectorate?\"\n\nBy this time everyone was awake. Archie gave directions to the boys: \"I want you to spread out and search the area. Go in pairs. Stick close together. Move out, about a hundred meters, then around to your right in a circle.\"\n\nArchie turned to Eric and Carter. \"You two guard the prisoner. His friends may come back for him. Zinovy, you'd better do something with the body. Where's Sara? Is she okay?\"\n\nZinovy made sure Sara was safe with Grace, then went back to the scene of the attack. The dead man lay where he had fallen, his head twisted sideways, his face resting unnaturally against his right shoulder. Zinovy stood looking down at him, hands on his hips. This was one gneeda who would cause them no more trouble. He dragged the body away from the compound and left it in a dense copse of trees, far enough away that no one would stumble upon it as they foraged for breakfast. The vandal did not deserve a burial. The air would eat away his remains soon enough.\n\nBy the time he returned to camp, the scouts had come back. They'd seen nothing—not even evidence of movement through the greenery. \"That doesn't prove anything,\" Carter pointed out. \"These plants are so resilient tracks don't last a minute.\"\n\n\"We interviewed the prisoner,\" Archie said to Zinovy. \"Didn't learn a thing. We applied as much pressure as we could, but he wouldn't even open his mouth.\"\n\nZinovy grimaced. There were ways to make people talk, but this crew wouldn't have a clue how to do it. He'd have to do his own interviewing, but he'd wait until morning. He'd had enough exercise for one day. More than enough.\n\nSara and Caleb were both sleeping, curled up in Grace's quarters on a hastily gathered pile of fresh ferns. Zinovy checked on them once more before he went to his own bed, where he lay awake thinking about many things.\n\nThe hatred had been a surprise. He'd dealt with vermin like this in the past—done it objectively, without emotion. Somehow this was different and he wasn't sure why. He'd been the one to bring Sara into the camp and he supposed he felt a certain responsibility for her. He remembered her, huddled in his arms after the attack. She'd been so trusting. It was an amazing thing.\n\nWhat Eric had done was also amazing. The boy had made light of it, as if it were nothing, but it was not nothing. In all his years of military service, and especially in the FSB, Zinovy had never been able to count on back up. To be sure, on military maneuvers there'd been teamwork, but if you got into trouble personally it was your problem. No commander wasted personnel on rescue operations. Zinovy was used to fending for himself and taking the consequences when he didn't. He would have taken the ultimate consequence this time, if it hadn't been for his friend.\n\nHis friend. The term arrested Zinovy's attention. He'd had friends before, but most had been more like casual acquaintances. This relationship was different. Why? Maybe because there was no competition in Eric. No every-man-for-himself mentality. Eric was willing to give, even at the risk of his own life.\n\nZinovy pondered these things and his awe increased. He lay quietly thinking until the first rosy tint of the new day filtered through the trees around him. Then he slept.\n\n* * *\n\nEarly that morning Elan arrived. He was looking for Zinovy and he was not pleased. Archie went to wake the tired warrior and send him to the grove of trees beside the conference center where the stern-faced man stood waiting.\n\nZinovy, sleepy-eyed and only half awake, stumbled across the compound, wondering what was so urgent that it couldn't wait until after breakfast. He faced Elan's stormy countenance with dumbfounded surprise. This was not the Elan he was used to. The gentle joy was gone. In its place was a thundercloud of a scowl, beneath eyes that flashed like lightning.\n\nZinovy was the first to speak. \"Elan. Is there a problem?\"\n\nElan stood before him, feet apart, arms folded across his chest. \"There was an incident last night,\" he began. \"Tell me about it.\"\n\nZinovy, fully awake now and in control, explained. \"Sara was attacked. Caleb alerted me and I intervened. The attack was averted and Sara is unharmed.\"\n\nElan probed. \"Is that all?\"\n\n\"All that matters. I killed the man. We won't have any more trouble from him.\"\n\n\"Why did you kill him?\" The darkness of Elan's face deepened.\n\nZinovy. \"I killed him because he was a beast.\" Some of the anger Zinovy had felt toward the vandal the night before crept into his voice as he continued what was fast turning into his defense. \"He was trying to rape Sara. He could have killed her. I had to stop him.\"\n\n\"You could have stopped him without killing him.\"\n\nThe anger began to swell in Zinovy's chest, but before he could say more, Elan readjusted his stance, as if to establish his physical presence on the ground before them, and thundered, \"You had no right to take the man's life. You did not give it in the first place. Now you have taken him beyond hope of redemption.\"\n\n\"Redemption!\" Zinovy spat the word back into Elan's face. \"How can you talk of redemption after what he did?\"\n\n\"What he did was evil, but it was not your place to pass final judgement. There is one who will do that, in his time. This is still a time of redemption for all of you. But that time has passed, now, for the vandal.\"\n\nElan's harsh words broke the dam. Emotion—that destructive enemy Zinovy had struggled against for so long—rushed in, washing every rational thought downstream. Zinovy was furious, but he would not succumb in the other man's presence. Salvaging what was left of his self-control, he turned and marched away.\n\nWhen he was out of Elan's sight he began to run, crashing through the brush outside the compound, anger pumping a vicious strength into his legs. And then he exploded. Arms flailing, he lashed out at the beauty around him, punching trees, ripping branches, tearing fern fronds, destroying everything in reach. When his strength was finally spent, he threw himself to the ground, breathing heavily, and buried his face in the deep moss. His energy was gone, but the anger remained.\n\nThen the voice in his head was back, coming with a question this time: \"What angers you, Zinovy?\"\n\nHe was startled, but he was beginning to think again, and ready to answer the mental intruder: \"I'm angry because of what I saw happen in Sara's bed.\" The picture of her lying there helpless under the rapist flashed before his eyes, sending a new wave of rage through his body. \"And I'm angry at Elan for his self-righteous, pig-headed, egotistical judgment of the killing. What right has he to condemn me? Whatever kind of creature he may be, he's not God.\"\n\nSilence reigned, as if the voice knew that wasn't all.\n\nIt wasn't. Zinovy was also furious with himself. After all these years of mental discipline and training, something had broken into the fortress and stolen his greatest treasure, the one thing that had given him control over his life. The objective detachment he'd developed and guarded so well was gone. How could he have allowed this to happen?\n\nHe remained where he was, exhausted, finally falling asleep, until the sounds of animals rooting around nearby for their supper woke him. He pulled himself up from the ground and took himself home for the night.\n\n* * *\n\nThe next morning Zinovy woke up retching. He had not showed up for breakfast and Sara, apparently fully recovered from her harrowing experience, went looking for him. She found him still in his bed and immediately took off for the river. Zinovy noticed her coming, but the fire burning in his veins blocked out everything else. He tried to lift his hands, but could not.\n\nIn no time she was back. His eyes were closed, but he heard her approach. Then he felt the water trickling down his face, and her hands smoothing it over his head and neck, his arms and chest. Gradually the pain subsided. Eventually he slept.\n\nHe slept long and deep and woke refreshed. The pain was gone, but the anger still burned. He rose and went to find the crew. They'd delayed their start, waiting for him to wake up, using the time to scout ahead, checking, again, for signs of other lowlife. They'd found none, but Zinovy determined to keep his eyes open. There would be dangers ahead. He would not to be caught off guard a second time.\n\nElan had taken the prisoner away and he hadn't come back. Zinovy swore when he found out. \"We needed to question that man. We're no more prepared now than we were before. We have no idea if this might happen again.\" His anger at Elan flared, but there was nothing to do but go on.\n\nThe crew trudged ahead, following the river, its current now slowed somewhat by a serpentine curve that took them, meandering, in a seemingly aimless direction. \"This is slowing us down,\" Archie complained.\n\n\"We could cross over to the other side,\" Zinovy said.\n\n\"I don't see how that would help. The route's no different over there.\"\n\nSo they continued on, following Elan's last instructions, making as much headway as they could each day and trusting the route they were taking would eventually get them where they were supposed to be going.\n\nThe river's meandering journey paralleled the journey in Zinovy's mind. He vacillated back and forth between fierce anger at Elan and dismay at his own lack of emotional control, and his mental turmoil seemed, like the path they were on, to be taking him nowhere. But gradually he came to terms with the situation and a reluctant peace settled down over his mind again.\n\nThe rape attempt had had a strange effect on Sara. Since the night of the attack, she'd been different. She mingled more with the others, men and women alike, participating in their activities, going out of her way to find things she could do to help. All the while, she continued to keep a watchful eye on Caleb, ministering to him as his mother would have done. Her new serenity baffled Zinovy. \"Another mystery,\" he grumbled. And then, without volition, he found himself talking about his confusion with Sara.\n\n* * *\n\n\"This world is too strange for believing. My mind feels twisted. I can't get it around all the strange things.\"\n\nIt was midday. Zinovy and Sara sat in a copse of trees eating their lunch. Caleb had finished his meal and was romping with Aslan. The two playmates darted in and out of the glistening shrubbery, brightening the air around them with their kicks and tickles and tumbles.\n\n\"Things are only strange because we aren't used to them,\" Sara said. She had a disarming knack for stating the obvious in a way that made it sound like some profound new concept. She watched his face, and he knew she was reading his exasperation.\n\n\"Well, think about it,\" she went on. \"Is this world any harder to believe than the first one would have been if we'd never seen it before?\"\n\nZinovy's mind twisted again, trying to follow her bizarre logic.\n\nShe screwed up her face, looked at the sky through the leafy canopy, and explained: \"Say we were from Mars, and it was our first time visiting the earth—the old one you think was so 'sensible.' You think earth wouldn't seem strange to us then? It seems ordinary to us because we were born into it.\"\n\nShe looked down at her lap, then held up a small hand and spread her fingers out in front of his face. \"Did you ever see anything so strange? There's this sort of square flat pad of flesh, with long skinny hard things inside to keep it from flopping around, and these five projections sticking out all over, with more of the long, skinny hard things. The things bend into all sorts of positions, but not backwards, at least not far, anyway.\" She studied her hand with interest, noting the slight bow of the fingers as she stretched them as far back as she could. Then she grinned at him. \"Can you imagine anything more unusual? If you were from Mars, that is, and had never seen a hand before.\"\n\nZinovy looked at his own hands. They were powerful. They'd done a lot of things. They'd been carefully trained. They'd gotten him out of many dangerous situations, and gotten him into some as well. Next to his mind, those well-trained hands were his most important asset—the one other thing he could not live without.\n\n\"Yes,\" he admitted. \"Perhaps an imaginary creature who had never seen hands might consider them strange.\" They were silent for a minute. Zinovy let his mind untwist once more. Then, \"Speaking of imaginary creatures, what do you think about Caleb's 'bright ones'?\"\n\nThey looked over at Caleb, now resting in the grass with Aslan's small head tucked under his arm.\n\n\"I don't know. I'm not entirely convinced it's nothing. I mean, sometimes when I look where Caleb points quickly, without letting myself think, I see a greater brightness in the spot for just a second. But he's so concrete about the way he describes them. I think he sees something I don't.\" She paused, looking at Caleb. The boy had pulled out his birthday book and was now reading it quietly to Aslan. The book was upside down, but neither of the two readers seemed concerned.\n\nAfter a moment she said, \"I really think they're there, Zinovy. I don't know why, but I believe him.\"\n\n\"But, haven't you noticed that everything this imaginary person tells him is what he wants to hear? It's always something good.\"\n\n\"And that makes it not true?\" Sara glared at Zinovy. \"Whoever said the truth has to be bad news? Is that some great natural law or something?\"\n\n\"There's no law, of course.\" He folded his arms and glared back at her. \"But in the end the truth is always bad news. Ultimately we die, you know.\"\n\nThe air colors played around her hair, framing her face with rosy light. He studied her. How would she respond to this harsh reality? She didn't appear to be convinced. \"Maybe that's not the ultimate reality,\" she said. \"What if there's something after? Something better, like the religious believe?\"\n\nHe frowned, and she went on, \"We humans think we come up with all the ideas about invisible things, and we make up metaphors to explain them. And all the time we think the invisible things are only in our minds. But what if we're wrong? What if the metaphors are some kind of 'already-there' picture of a reality that actually exists? What if they're put inside our minds by someone outside ourselves to help us see realities we can't see with our eyes?\"\n\nIt was too much for Zinovy. \"I give up. I don't know anymore. You're the most exasperating woman. Where do you get these crazy ideas?\"\n\nShe grinned. \"Maybe God gives them to me.\" She took a bite of her apple and sat, chewing, a deep contentment on her face.\n\n\"What are you thinking now?\"\n\n\"I was just thinking . . . \" She paused, rearranged the contents of her mouth, then continued, \"I'm glad the apple wasn't the forbidden fruit.\"\n\n\"Pardon me?\"\n\n\"The forbidden fruit. You know. In the Garden of Eden.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Another topic straight out of nowhere. He made the mental readjustment. \"How do you know it wasn't?\"\n\nShe stopped chewing and looked at him in amazement. \"Because we still have them, dodo brain. If they had been the forbidden fruit we wouldn't have been allowed to keep them, get it?\"\n\n\"Dodo brain. I don't know that term.\"\n\nShe laid her half-eaten apple in the grass and rolled her eyes. \"The dodo was a bird. It has been extinct for a very long time. It had a very small brain.\"\n\nThe look on her face struck him funny. He laughed. \"I know the dodo bird. I've just never heard the term used that way before.\" Then he said, \"I thought sex was the forbidden fruit.\"\n\nShe picked up her apple and worked on it again. \"Uh uh,\" she said. \"Couldn't have been. We still have that too.\"\n\n\"I see,\" he said, grinning.\n\nShe went on, \"I'm just glad it wasn't the apple. I love apples. I think they're my favorite of all the things we have to eat, including all the new ones.\"\n\nHe studied her agile fingers as they turned the piece of fruit—the concentration on her face as she searched for one last corner to chew on.\n\n\"I am glad it wasn't sex,\" he said.\n\nImmediately he could have kicked himself. It had only been a week— But she was laughing.\n\nHe studied her face, amazed. \"It's good you can laugh at that.\"\n\nShe sobered. \"I don't think I could have before.\"\n\n\"Before . . . ?\" He wasn't sure if he should pursue this topic.\n\nShe turned to him. \"Something happened to me that night. When the man came at me I was terrified. It was like deja vu, you know? Like it had all happened to me before. It hadn't. It had happened to my mother.\" She paused, and he thought she was finished. Then she said, \"This may sound weird, but I wonder if maybe, all this time, I've been feeling her fears. The fear she felt when it happened. Do you think that's possible?\"\n\n\"I don't know what's possible any more.\"\n\n\"Well, things are different now, anyway. I'm not so afraid. When you came, it was over so fast. All of a sudden he was gone and I was safe. It was like the fear went away with him.\"\n\n\"That's good.\"\n\nShe paused, with a puzzled expression. \"For the first time in my life I feel I can face . . .\"\n\nThen she looked away.\n\nCHAPTER SEVENTEEN\n\n\"I'm thinking we might cancel the rest day tomorrow,\" Archie said to Grace and Zinovy as they sat together one evening. \"The way the river's meandering we've made little headway this week.\"\n\nGrace frowned. \"It won't be a popular move. The others aren't as committed to the timeline as you are.\"\n\nArchie shook his head. \"What do you think, Zinovy?\"\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"Okay with me either way. I don't need the rest.\"\n\nSimon and Ruben trudged by on their way to the river. Archie called them over. \"How would you two feel if we skipped the rest day tomorrow?\" he asked.\n\n\"You mean we'd have to keep walking?\" Simon groaned.\n\n\"We've been walking all week,\" Ruben said. \"I'm tired. I thought you said we could have a rest day every week.\"\n\n\"Well, it's just that we haven't gotten far this week, the way the river's been winding. We're not much closer to the city, as the crow flies.\"\n\nBy that time Mike and Raheem and Emery had joined them. When they heard Archie's suggestion they wailed their protests. Archie settled them down and sent them on their way. He sighed. \"I guess we'll stick with the rest day schedule.\"\n\nZinovy looked at Archie. \"You don't always have to give in to them, you know. You're the boss.\"\n\n\"You're right, Zinovy,\" Grace said. \"But there's no need to be rigid about things either. You're working with people, remember?\"\n\n\"We'll rest,\" Archie said, \"and make up the time later. The river has to straighten out soon.\" Then he added, \"We need a meeting tonight, though. There's something else I've been thinking that I want to discuss with the group.\"\n\nArchie announced the meeting at supper. \"It's nothing that will concern the women and children, but the men should attend,\" Archie said. \"I have a plan in mind regarding our defense.\"\n\n\"Why do you say something involving our defense doesn't concern the women and children?\" Sara asked.\n\n\"What I'm proposing has to do with physical defense. If you'd like to be involved you're certainly welcome.\"\n\n\"I'll be there,\" she said.\n\n\"I'll be there too,\" Grace added.\n\nMark and Carter came to the meeting late. Grace, Eric and the boys were already settled on clumps of grass around the command center, waiting to hear about Archie's plan. Sara sat apart from the others, arms folded. Zinovy leaned against a tree.\n\n\"I want to pursue the idea I mentioned a week or so ago about some kind of defense training,\" Archie began. \"I'm concerned about our lack of preparedness. We don't know much about potential threats to our safety, but we do know they could be bloody.\"\n\nHe looked around at the group. \"The problem is that we're virtually defenseless. We have the two knives, but we have no experience in using them—for defense, at any rate. The enemy has experience. We've found carcasses, and Eric, here, interrupted an attack that could have cost Zinovy his life. These people mean business, and they know their business.\"\n\nZinovy shifted against the tree trunk, anticipating Archie's next words. \"Now my plan is this. Zinovy is the only one among us who is trained in the use of weapons. I'm going to ask you, Zinovy, if you would give us all some training. You need to teach us how to use the weapons we've got.\"\n\nAll eyes turned to Zinovy. \"I don't know if that's a good idea.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Archie said. \"You've had the training. You could teach us at least the rudimentary techniques.\"\n\n\"It's not so easy,\" Zinovy said. \"It's not as easy as it looks on TV. To kill a man takes more than one or two quick lessons in technique.\" They continued to study his face, questions in the frowns and lowered eyebrows, and he went on, searching for the right words: \"The body is like a fortress. To penetrate one must find the right place—the chink in the armor, so to speak—and one must thrust hard. It takes both skill and strength, and much experience. It takes time. There's no way you can get all that in one crash course.\"\n\n\"Well, we've got time. We'll take as much time as we need. Anything is better than nothing if it comes to the point where we have to defend ourselves.\"\n\nZinovy still balked. \"Not so. Something is sometimes worse than nothing. If a person carries a weapon and is not skilled, the weapon can become a liability instead of an asset. A skilled enemy knows how to take a weapon and use it against his attacker. We would be at grave disadvantage to carry knives.\"\n\n\"But Eric knows how to use one. He took the knife from the vandal that attacked you, remember?\" Conrad said.\n\n\"I'm grateful.\" Zinovy looked at Eric as he spoke. \"But Eric was lucky. The vandal was inattentive, and Eric came up from behind. It's not always so in these matters. Trust me. I know what I say.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless, I am going to insist you do this, Zinovy. Whether we carry the knives or not, I want every person in this crew to be able to use one. You can begin the lessons tomorrow. I know it's a rest day, but we need to get on with this.\"\n\n\"If it's knives I'm not interested,\" Grace said. \"I'll stick with the martial arts. That works best for me.\" She turned to Sara. \"I wouldn't recommend this kind of training for you either, Sara. You're too small. I'll teach you some karate moves if you like.\"\n\nSara leapt to her feet. \"Why is size so important? I'm surprised at you, Grace—that you'd make a sexist remark like that.\"\n\nGrace laughed. \"It's not sexism, Sara. It's realism. You're half the size of any vandal you might meet. You can't fight them with brute force.\"\n\nSara studied Grace's face for a moment, then turned on her heel and marched off.\n\nGrace turned to Zinovy and shrugged. \"I'll leave you to it. If there's anything I can do to help with the martial arts side of things let me know.\"\n\nAnd so it was that Zinovy gathered his class of twelve students the next morning and began his instruction, using the butcher knives. Zinovy had trained with daggers, and he looked at these unwieldy instruments with dismay. But the real reluctance he felt had nothing to do with the inadequacy of their tools. He ignored his inner struggle and did the best he could to conduct the training session to Archie's satisfaction.\n\nAfter an hour of explanation Zinovy was nauseous and ready to quit. \"From the back, the ribs must be avoided. Coming up under the ribcage is the best approach. From the front as well, up under the ribs and breastbone is the most vulnerable spot for a death thrust.\" He did a few more demonstrations, led them through a couple of practice moves, then called a halt to the day's lesson.\n\nArchie came up at the end of the session. \"Thanks, Zinovy. That was a good start.\"\n\nZinovy grunted and wandered over to the river, massaging the tension out of his hands and arms and willing the muscles in his stomach to relax. The water ran full and fast in this section of the river, splashing over boulders in waves of deep green and purple, almost blood-red in their depths. Both the movement and the color mirrored Zinovy's inner turmoil. He put his hands behind his head and stretched his shoulders, then he leaned against a tree, watching Caleb cavort in the water with the two Mueller children.\n\nGrace was playing with them today. She was healthy again, as they all were, but a shadow still lurked behind the glowing face. She laughed suddenly, taken with the antics of the children, but just as quickly the laugh disappeared and it didn't return.\n\nEventually Zinovy sat down on the riverbank. Sara joined him, plopping down after her swim, tossing her hair in the sparkling air, flicking water onto his shirtsleeve. Her hair had grown longer. It hung almost to her shoulders now when it was wet. She was talking, as usual.\n\nZinovy listened with one ear, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought about his morning session with the boys, and something he'd overheard Eric say to Simon yesterday as they walked in front of him on the trail. Something from the red book—about drinking blood, of all things. The remark had reminded Zinovy of the lion kill, and an older memory he'd buried long ago—a memory that had to do with religion. Zinovy had no use for religions. He'd been relieved when the Supreme Commander had finally eradicated them all.\n\nThe girl broke into his thoughts. \"There you go. You're doing it again. You haven't heard a thing I've said, have you?\"\n\n\"Yes, I heard you.\" She was not fooled and he didn't bother to convince her. He glanced over. \"You're Jewish, right?\"\n\n\"Yes. I mean that's my heritage. I'm not a practicing Jew.\"\n\nZinovy shook his head. \"Never could I understand the Jewish belief system.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Many things I don't understand. It's just so bloody, for one.\"\n\n\"Are you talking about the sacrifices?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" And he told her. \"I saw them conduct animal sacrifices in Israel once.\" He gazed off into the distance and continued. \"It was a very hot day. I was sweating like a pig. I watched them drag lambs to the altar. I heard the bleating. I can still see the gush of blood from their throats and the glint of sun off the knife when they cut the bodies in pieces.\" Zinovy grimaced. \"Never could I see the sense of it.\"\n\n\"I know what you mean.\" She paused. \"They ate the meat, you know.\"\n\n\"Did they? Well it's a damn inhumane way to slaughter animals for food.\"\n\n\"Not really. They took pains to make sure the animals were not aware or frightened. They still slaughter that way—it's part of the Kosher process.\" She picked up a shirttail and wrung the last of the water from it. \"But there was a religious significance to the ritual, too.\"\n\nZinovy looked at her in disbelief. \"How could there be a religious reason for killing a living being?\"\n\n\"I asked my tutor about it once, and he tried to explain. It made sense, what he said. It didn't make me feel any better, but it made sense.\" She frowned and studied the ground. \"He said—and I'll never forget his words—he said, 'Lambkin, things are not always as they seem. The sacrifices seem unjustified, but they had to happen, because people are evil.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. All people are not evil. That's not a fair statement.\" He looked at her and saw her youth, her inexperience. \"You're not evil.\"\n\n\"Yes, I am, Zinovy. You don't know.\"\n\n\"No.\" He would not let her get away with the exaggeration. \"The vandals are evil. You are good. Caleb is good. There are many good people.\"\n\nSara shook her head and frowned. \"It's all relative,\" she said. \"I'm maybe not as evil as the vandals that killed Caleb's parents. But compared to perfect—compared to what God must be like—I'm horrible.\"\n\n\"Well, no one's perfect.\"\n\n\"That's just it. No one is.\"\n\nZinovy rolled his eyes, determined to avoid the vortex of her circular logic. \"Sara, no one can expect anyone to be perfect. Even your God should know better than to do that.\"\n\n\"He does. That's why there had to be sacrifices. That's what I've been trying to say. Nobody can be perfect. God knew that. So we have to be forgiven. But we have to do the sacrifices thing for it to work.\"\n\n\"Why? I don't see a connection. What does killing an animal have to do with forgiveness?\"\n\nHer shoulders slumped and she frowned. \"I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure it out, but I think it may have something to do with metaphor.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I think the sacrifices are a metaphor—they point to a deeper meaning, somehow. The sacrifices are grotesque because the evil they're supposed to cure is grotesque.\"\n\nHis expression must have revealed his skepticism. She went on, quiet now, but no less intense. \"We're so used to evil we don't realize what a bad thing it is, Zinovy—how just plain wrong. If there is a God who created everything, he deserves our respect, but we don't give it to him. We ignore him. That's grotesquely evil.\" She looked up at him. \"Did you ever hear the story of the Passover Lamb?\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n\"It happened in Egypt, long ago. The Jews—my people—were living as slaves. The oppression was heavy. They cried out for a long time to Jehovah—that's their name for God, you know. 'Come rescue us, your people, from our bondage to the Egyptians.' Finally he did. He sent a man named Moses to talk to the Pharaoh and tell him to let the people go.\"\n\nA memory flashed through Zinovy's mind—a fairy tale his mother had told him. He listened, and Sara went on.\n\n\"But the Pharaoh was stubborn. He didn't want to lose his workforce—they were the ones who built the pyramids, you know. But he also didn't want to bow to Moses' god. He was too proud. He was his own God, and he wasn't about to give in.\"\n\nSara glanced at him, checking to see that she still had an audience. He nodded and she continued: \"So Jehovah sent a lot of plagues on the Egyptians. He spared the Jews, but the Egyptians were pestered with all kinds of evil things. Flies, frogs, lice—all the things the Egyptians worshipped became plagues to them. But after all those things—nine of them, I think it was—the Pharaoh still would not let the people go.\" She was obviously skipping some of the details, not sure of his attention span.\n\n\"So, finally, after he'd tried everything else, Jehovah said, 'That's it. I've had it up to here.'\" She slid her finger across her throat. \"'I'm going to really give it to them this time.' And he made a plan to do something so strong that the Pharaoh would have to give in.\" She paused.\n\n\"Go on,\" Zinovy said. \"You're a good storyteller.\"\n\nShe smiled and looked down at her hands. \"Now before Jehovah could do this thing, he had to make some arrangements. He wanted to protect the Jews from this plague, so he gave them instructions: 'Tonight,' he said, 'Each family must sacrifice a lamb and put the blood from the lamb on the door post of your house. The death angel is going to pass over Egypt tonight, and in the morning you will hear much wailing in the land. The death angel is going to kill the firstborn son in every home of the Egyptians. But when he sees the blood on your door posts, he will pass over you.'\n\n\"Well, it happened just that way. The next morning the Pharaoh was so distraught over losing his firstborn son that he told them to get out. And they got out, fast, before he changed his mind. He did change his mind after they'd gone, and he sent his army after them to bring them back. But the soldiers were all killed—drowned in the Red Sea. My people got away, and that's when they went back to the land Jehovah had promised to their father, Abraham—the land of Israel.\"\n\nShe'd become so involved in the story that she'd forgotten to see if he were still listening. She looked up at last. \"And that's why they call it the Passover. Because the angel of death passed over them that night.\"\n\n\"Good story. Interesting, as Eric would say. But still I feel sorry for the lamb. You have a vicious God, you Jews.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"I know. The Torah says, 'without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins.' I was angry at him for a while, too. But my tutor didn't give up. Jewish rabbis can be very persistent. He said that the sacrifice costs the lamb his life, but in dying, he saves us. The lamb becomes the scapegoat. And it's either his blood or ours, you see? My grandfather said when he sees the lamb he sees love—Jehovah's love that protects us from his righteous anger.\"\n\nIt was a long speech, even for Sara. Zinovy sat looking at her face, momentarily distracted by the emotion playing around her eyes and mouth as she spoke. But there was one major flaw in the argument.\n\n\"Your God is supposed to be able to do anything, right?\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"And he is supposed to be good, right?\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Well, if he can do anything, and if he is good, then he should make a different way. This was not a good way.\"\n\n\"Right.\" She was looking at him, but he could tell her mind had moved beyond the words he'd just spoken. She remained still.\n\nFinally he prodded: \"Then we agree about something at last.\"\n\nShe ignored the remark. Instead she cocked her head at him and said, \"And if you were better, or smarter, or bigger than God, you'd have a right to criticize him for the way he does things.\"\n\nDamn that girl. She never let him have the final word.\n\nThe Regime had had the final word, though, in the case of the bloody lambs. The new government had allowed the disgusting ritual to continue uncontested for a while. Then, suddenly, they put a stop to the sacrifices. It hadn't been easy. The priests were stubborn. In the end the government had them butchered and their bodies burned on their own altars. The message came through, strong and clear, that such barbarism was not to be tolerated, and the eventual crackdown on Judaism resulted in the confiscation of the whole temple area and its re-commission for use by the Global Regime. The so-called \"Temple Mount\" became \"Gaia's Ground,\" the center of the new universal religion. The bloody mess on the plaza was cleaned up and the world once again became civilized. Zinovy had been greatly relieved.\n\nBut Sara's story left its impact. So did the girl, he admitted to himself. He needed to be more alert. Too often she distracted him. That would not do. Distractions would hinder his vigilance. He sat up and cleared his throat.\n\n\"We need to go for dinner,\" he said.\n\n* * *\n\nThat night Zinovy couldn't sleep. He thrashed around for an hour or two, then got up and went to relieve Emery, who was on watch until morning.\n\nAll was quiet, the landscape still, bathed as usual in the nighttime glow of the opalescent air. No leaf stirred. No animal spoke. Zinovy was alone with his thoughts. He scratched his back on the rough bark of the tree he was sitting against and let his mind wander again to the girl. She constantly surprised him. What made her think the way she did? He found himself wanting to discover more about what went on behind those sapphire-blue eyes, those flickering lashes.\n\nThat realization brought up another curiosity. Why did he care? They were so different in their thinking, and her life did not involve him. Why did it matter what she thought?\n\nSuddenly he straightened. The quiet intruder was back, inserting words into his thoughts. \"Why do things only matter if they involve you?\"\n\nHe squirmed against the tree trunk, trying to find a comfortable position. When he couldn't, he realized the discomfort was not physical.\n\nEveryone operates that way, he defended himself to the voice. No one cares about what does not involve them.\n\nBut, even as he offered the excuse, the vision came. He saw himself in a box, the box getting smaller and smaller, closing in around him. Everything else was outside, a wide world full of things that didn't involve him.\n\nThat instant peek into all that was outside of himself was enough to silence his retort. He suddenly felt claustrophobic. He felt dull, bored and boring in his box. A sense of dissatisfaction followed, then a growing hunger—a hunger for everything that was outside of himself.\n\nMorning came and he wandered back into camp, passing Sara's bed on the way. He glanced at her, still sleeping soundly. Caleb and the cub were curled up under her chin. She woke as he looked and he turned away before she saw him.\n\n* * *\n\nAs the journey continued, Sara became quieter again. She and Zinovy walked together, as usual, but miles went by without her saying a word. Caleb filled the conversational vacuum with his endless chatter, but Zinovy missed her introspective thoughts, her challenges.\n\nHe was tempted, at times, to accuse the girl of living in her own world, as she had once done him. Maybe her silence had something to do with the vandal attack. He didn't want to ask. He wasn't into psychoanalysis and she was too withdrawn to open up if he had been.\n\nAs he was thinking this she spoke.\n\n\"Zinovy, I need some time alone.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean, I have to be by myself for a while.\"\n\n\"Not a good idea,\" he countered. \"You should not be out of sight. You know that.\"\n\n\"Well, can I have some space, at least? How about if you move away a little for a while. I'll walk between you and the river. That way I'll be protected. You'll still be able to see me.\"\n\nZinovy hesitated.\n\nShe pressed him. \"I'm getting claustrophobic.\"\n\nThe remark influenced him. \"All right. I'll move away. But if we get in denser underbrush, where it's harder to see, I'll have to move back in.\"\n\nAnd so they parted. For the rest of that day she walked by herself. Zinovy walked with Caleb, only half-attending to his chatter. He watched, surreptitiously, as Sara wandered along the riverbank, head down, eyes on the ground.\n\nAfter a while her head came up. She appeared to be talking to herself. He was too far away to hear the words, but he saw her mouth move. She talked off and on for some time. His curiosity surfaced once again. He wondered what she had to say that he couldn't be a part of. He also wondered how long this estrangement would last. Not that it mattered. He swiped at a branch that fell across his path and frowned.\n\nBut the next day Sara walked with Zinovy again. Whatever she'd needed of solitude she'd found in those few hours by the river. Eric joined them as they started out that morning. \"Can I walk with you two? I'm tired of listening to the boys argue about the rules of the latest game they've invented. They spend more time making up the rules than they do playing the games.\" Caleb had begged to ride on Alex's shoulders and Zinovy had let him go, so the three of them were alone.\n\nSara seemed different again. She was still quiet as they walked, but the quietness had a contemplative quality. There was a calm about her that puzzled him. Her complexity disturbed him. Every time he caught a glimpse of who she was, or what she might be thinking, she changed, like mercury slipping through grasping fingers. Almost before that realization crystallized she was talking again. She spoke to him, as if Eric were not there.\n\n\"You remember that day when we talked about Plato's 'Idea'?\" she asked.\n\nHe nodded.\n\n\"Remember I said I thought the idea was really God?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, wondering where this conversational topic had come from.\n\n\"Well, I've decided I was right. The Idea is God. And the Idea isn't impersonal, either. He is a person. Ultimate reality is a person, Zinovy.\" She looked up at him, as if expecting a reply.\n\nZinovy didn't know how to respond. He glanced over at Eric, a question in his look. The boy shrugged his shoulders. When she went on, he began to realize things were not going to get any better.\n\n\"I think I walked with Him.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I said, I think I walked with Him, yesterday when I walked by the river. He was there. God was there.\"\n\nShe looked up through narrowed eyes, as if waiting for his challenge, but Zinovy was still at a loss for words. When he said nothing, she continued.\n\n\"He talked to me, Zinovy.\" She stepped around a cluster of daisies at her feet, then gazed ahead up the trail. Zinovy sensed she was not seeing the physical brightness around them, and her next words confirmed it. \"Do you remember how I said I would never forgive my father?\"\n\nHis mind reeled. Another topic, out of nowhere.\n\n\"Well, He talked to me about that. I don't know how He knew what I was feeling. Maybe He was with us that day and heard what I said to you.\" Her brow furrowed. \"No, it has to be more than that. He knew more than I told you. He told me things I didn't even know myself.\"\n\nShe looked up at Eric. \"Do you know what I'm talking about? Has anything like that ever happened to you, I mean when you feel like God is talking to you?\" Eric frowned. Without waiting for a reply she went on. \"Actually, He didn't really tell me anything. He just asked questions. But the questions made me think. I never realized . . . \" And again she was lost to them.\n\nZinovy controlled a strong urge to shake her. He knew, instinctively, it would do no good to reason with her. Better to stay calm and listen. Maybe she would talk herself back into sanity. He waited.\n\nWhen she didn't continue, Eric finally prompted: \"What didn't you realize?\"\n\nSara sighed deeply and answered, \"All along I thought I was angry at my father for what he did to my mother. But that wasn't really it.\"\n\n\"But Sara,\" Zinovy said as gently as he could. \"It's natural for you to be angry at him for what he did to your mother. You loved her, and he hurt her. Your anger is justified.\"\n\nShe flung her head up and glared at him. \"I know that, Zinovy. But you don't understand. I was actually angry at what he had done to me, not to her. Will you just listen and let me explain?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" he said, feeling hopelessly out of control again.\n\n\"I didn't know at first, that he had raped my mother. I thought they were married, and that he was just away on business—some important job he had to do.\"\n\nEric glowered. \"Away on business for your whole life?\"\n\n\"It's easy to believe bizarre things when you really want to, especially when the truth is even more bizarre.\" She sighed. \"No one told me the truth. I found out by accident. My tutor was talking about it with the lawyer one day. I was in the library, next to the office, and they didn't know I was there.\"\n\nZinovy looked at Eric, then back at Sara. So this was the explanation for her mental breakdown. The experience had been traumatic, and something had brought it to the surface after all these years. He sensed he should respond, but he wasn't sure how. Finally he said: \"It must have been hard for you.\"\n\nShe glanced up and he was surprised at the clarity he read in her eyes. \"I was devastated. I still have nightmares about it.\" She twirled a daisy she had picked as they walked, and Zinovy was struck by the contrast. The beautiful flower in her hand, like an innocent child, and the ugly story of debauchery and pain she'd experienced.\n\n\"But like I said, what is really strange is that I always thought I was angry at him for my mother's sake, not mine. The man's question opened it all up. There was something in His eyes when He asked me why I was so angry. I mean, the light just went on. I remembered that scene in the library. I realized that I hated my father for what I lost. I lost the father he should have been, and I hate him for not being that person.\"\n\nShe looked up at Zinovy again, and the pain in her eyes took his breath away. \"I don't know who I am,\" she said. \"I thought I was the daughter of a wonderful man. That was my identity. When I found out that man never existed, it was almost as if I never existed, do you know what I mean? I became a stranger to myself.\"\n\nShe paused and looked down at the daisy, already beginning to wilt in her fingers. Then she looked up. \"It was all his fault. I've been boiling mad at him ever since. The stranger who walked with me made me see that.\"\n\nEnough. It was time to speak reason. \"Sara, you must understand there was no man with you as you walked by the river.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I was watching you all the time. You were alone. You wanted to be alone, remember? And you were. No one else was there.\"\n\nThey stood still now, facing each other. Zinovy watched her eyes widen in amazement, then grow narrow, once again, as her confusion turned to anger. He knew he was in trouble when she stiffened and put her hands on her hips.\n\n\"There was a man,\" she said through clenched teeth. \"He did talk to me. He told me I needed to forgive my father. He said that forgiveness goes hand in hand with healing, and that I would have no peace until I could forgive. I remember his exact words. I am not crazy, Zinovy.\"\n\n\"What did he look like?\"\n\n\"My father? I don't know. I never saw him.\"\n\n\"No. Not your father. This stranger.\"\n\nShe wilted a little, caught off guard by her memory of the hallucination. \"He was white,\" she said. \"A brilliant white. That's all I can remember. That and His eyes. They were penetrating. It was like He saw things . . . \"\n\nShe looked up at Zinovy again, a new realization dawning.\n\n\"Zinovy, He was bright.\"\n\nThe implication was obvious. \"Like Caleb's bright ones you mean?\"\n\nShe nodded. Then she shook her head, as if clearing cobwebs. Zinovy let out a relieved sigh. She was finally coming to her senses. Still wide-eyed, she looked at him. Her eyes were distant, clouded with confusion. Then they cleared once more and in the next instant his hopes for her sanity were dashed.\n\n\"Zinovy!\" She spoke quickly in her excitement. \"Caleb must have seen Him all along—Him, and Elan. Elan too.\" Zinovy stared—transfixed by the deep blue of her eyes as she looked up at him. \"Don't you understand?\" The eyes pleaded. \"We see Elan, but we don't really see him at all—not like Caleb does.\"\n\nShe was nearly shouting. \"We've been blind,\" she said. Then she was gone.\n\nHe had to run to catch up with her. When he did she was with Caleb, kneeling by his side, peering into his face.\n\n\"Caleb, what does Elan look like?\"\n\n\"Don't you know?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do. But what does he look like to you, sweetheart?\"\n\nCaleb squinted up at her. \"Is this a guessing game?\"\n\n\"If it was a game, what would you say?\"\n\nThe tot squinted and looked off across the meadow, pondering. Finally he said, \"Bright. Very bright.\"\n\nSara looked up at Zinovy, then turned back to Caleb. \"What else. What else does he look like, Caleb?\"\n\nBy this time Eric had caught up with them. The boy pursed his lips, wrinkled his face and said, \"Pretty. Soft. Elan is soft and pretty, like a mother. Like a mother with a baby.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Zinovy said. \"That explains it.\" Caleb had created this vision of Elan after the image of his mother, just as Sara had created her vision of the stranger after the image of the father she never had.\n\nBut Sara wasn't making the connection. \"What color are his eyes, Caleb, do you remember?\"\n\n\"They're blue, with sparkles in them. Like laughing, you know?\" the boy replied. He caught sight of a squirrel in the path ahead and began to wriggle in Sara's grasp. The game was obviously losing its charm.\n\n\"One more thing, Caleb. Hold on a minute.\" Sara clung to his hand. \"What kind of clothes does Elan wear?\"\n\nThe boy's eyes followed the squirrel as it rustled in the leaves of a peanut plant along the path ahead. The squirrel surfaced, hugging a nutty treasure.\n\n\"They're not like ours,\" Caleb said. \"They move. Like this.\" And he was off after the spunky rodent, waving his arms in the air, cavorting through the flowers like a small sunbeam.\n\nZinovy looked at Eric and shook his head. Things had gone from bad to worse. Sara was no nearer to believing she had hallucinated than when they'd first started talking. Caleb's imaginative description of Elan had only entrenched her belief in the vision of the stranger.\n\nCHAPTER EIGHTEEN\n\nThey'd made camp for the night when the thundering reached their ears.\n\n\"Sounds like stampeding brumbies,\" Eric said, as the noise grew louder.\n\nBy the time the nearest riders careened into camp, the ground shuddered with the pounding of a hundred horses' hooves. Six of the horses drew up close, surrounding the crew, who stared, open-mouthed. Zinovy glanced around him toward Sara who was shielding Caleb, pressing him into the mossy bank behind her as one of the horses pawed the ground at their feet.\n\nThe leader of the galloping clan was a tall Arab, wrapped in his Bedouin robes and riding like the wind. A loose strand of his tightly woven turban whipped around behind him as he skidded to a stop in front of Zinovy.\n\nHe pressed his knees into the horse and raised himself to look over Zinovy's head at Sara and Caleb. Then he hurtled around Zinovy, swooped down, snatched Caleb up by one arm, and hauled him into his lap.\n\nSara screamed. Aslan flew out of Caleb's arms. Zinovy was moving before the cub hit the ground. He leapt onto the haunches of the Bedouin's horse and fastened his hands around the man's neck. In half a minute the Arab would be dead.\n\nA shout rang out in the bristling air. Zinovy whirled to find Adam beside him, astride a large stallion. His hand gripped the hard muscle of Zinovy's right arm even as Zinovy's fingers sank deeper into the leathery skin of the horseman.\n\n\"Don't,\" Adam said. \"He's a friend.\"\n\nZinovy relaxed his grip, but his hands remained frozen around the Arab's thick neck. The Bedouin gasped. Caleb slipped from his grasp and fell into Sara's waiting arms. Zinovy dropped his hands. The horseman clutched his throat, and spit blood on the ground. At the sight of blood Zinovy slid from the back of the horse.\n\nHe turned to Adam. \"What's the meaning of this?\"\n\n\"Settle down,\" Adam said quietly. \"I'll explain everything. It's not what it seems.\"\n\nArchie's sharp interjection sliced through the tension. \"Adam, we need to talk. Come with me please.\" It was not a polite request.\n\nAdam gave the Arab warrior an order, then dismounted and followed Archie to the center of the compound.\n\nThe horseman didn't move. He glared at Zinovy. \"You will pay,\" he said, his voice raspy. \"I vow blood vengeance.\" He spit again at Zinovy's feet, then he beckoned to his followers and they backed their horses out of the camp and faded into the shrubbery. Zinovy watched until they were outside the camp, then headed back to the others.\n\n\"Who are these people?\" Archie was asking as Zinovy reached them.\n\n\"They're part of the movement,\" Adam said. \"From a Bedouin tribe I found on a scouting trip upriver. Most are only semi-civilized, although Haidar, there—the one you nearly killed, Zinovy—he has an interesting background. His father was a Palestinian who worked in the oil industry in North Africa. Haidar grew up in the desert, but he was educated in Europe.\"\n\n\"He did not learn to ride there,\" Zinovy said. \"They don't ride horses that way in civilized countries.\"\n\nAdam smiled. \"I know that. The desert has reclaimed him to a certain extent. But he's manageable.\"\n\n\"What did he want with Caleb?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"I don't know why he was so taken with the boy, but I'm sure he meant no harm. The Bedouins love children.\"\n\n\"Well, love of children nearly cost him his life,\" Zinovy said. \"You tell him that. You tell him it will happen a second time if he puts his hand on the child again.\"\n\n\"I'd go easy with him if I were you, Zinovy. He's testy right now. You've embarrassed him before the others. Palestinians are a proud people and they believe in justice. They mete it out if they have to. Haidar's a good friend if you treat him well, but I wouldn't want to get on his bad side.\"\n\n\"He will see my bad side if he touches the boy again,\" Zinovy repeated.\n\nArchie spoke, introducing calm reason into the charged atmosphere. \"Zinovy's right, Adam. What happened is completely unacceptable. If these men are part of your organization you're responsible for their actions.\"\n\n\"You have a point, Archie. I take full responsibility. I assure you it won't happen again.\" Adam looked from one to the other, then he said, \"Could we perhaps sit down?\"\n\nArchie took his hands off his hips and moved to a nearby Banyan tree. Adam joined him and they sat down. Zinovy remained standing. He studied the shrubbery at the edge of camp where the Bedouins had retreated. Most had disappeared, including the warrior he'd almost killed, but a few remained. They'd dismounted and now stood or squatted in haphazard groups of two or three around the perimeter of the clearing, playing with their reigns and muttering to each other in low tones. Their eyes darted over the camp as they spoke, following the movements of the children. Sara had vanished into the bushes with Caleb, but Mark and Michelle were still herding their two away. The children seemed fascinated with the Bedouins.\n\n\"Relax Zinovy. It's okay,\" Adam said, looking up at the uneasy Russian beside him. He ran his hand through a clump of tall grass, crushing the resilient blades in his fingers and releasing them. Zinovy watched the blades spring back and it occurred to him that Adam was like the grass. He would not be thwarted.\n\nBut the blood was beginning to cool in Zinovy's veins. Slowly his hands unclenched, and he crouched beside the other two, still alert for any activity on the periphery. Eric joined them, sitting a little apart. His hair, rumpled as usual, gave the impression he was at ease, but Zinovy could tell he was not.\n\nArchie was speaking. \"Just how do these savage people fit into your program?\"\n\n\"They are savage only because they've had no training or leadership. We're training them. When we're through they'll be model citizens of the new order. You'll see. Their uninhibited minds are fertile ground for planting the right ideas. It's the simple people of the earth—people who love children.\" Adam looked at Zinovy and smiled, pressing home his point. \"They will fill the earth with peace in the end.\"\n\nZinovy settled back against a tree trunk. \"You're not affected at all by what happened to the earth, are you?\"\n\nAdam's smile broadened. \"Remember, I told you, this holocaust has actually worked to our advantage. The world has been swept clean. Now it's ready for the system that will bring true peace and unity, for the first time in history.\"\n\nEric had been listening in stony silence. \"It hasn't been swept clean enough,\" he said, jerking his head toward the Arab horsemen now milling restlessly among the trees.\n\n\"They're not going to be a problem,\" Adam said. \"They can be controlled. One just needs boldness—confidence. With confidence, you can control any situation.\"\n\n\"Is that good?\" Eric asked.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Is it good to control situations?\"\n\n\"How could it be a bad thing to be in control?\"\n\n\"Well, take Hitler, for example. Hitler was in control.\"\n\nAdam's eyes narrowed. He looked at Eric for a moment before he answered. \"Hitler was a misguided fool.\"\n\nEric shrugged. \"I rest my case.\"\n\nArchie glanced at Zinovy and raised his eyebrows.\n\nAdam continued unperturbed, speaking quietly, as to an agitated child: \"Control is not inherently evil, Eric. It's the 'why' and the 'how' that make it either good or bad. Control exercised for the benefit of humanity is a good thing—a needful thing, in fact. If it isn't in place, anarchy reigns. Your vandals are a case in point.\" Adam paused and studied the young man. \"The world isn't an easy place. If you don't recognize that truth and respond appropriately you're doomed.\"\n\nEric bristled. Adam turned his back on the boy and continued speaking to Archie and Zinovy. \"As I was saying, the recent purge was a good thing. It should have happened ages ago. We could have used one like it in Africa when the AIDs epidemic began, for example.\"\n\nEric persisted. \"That doesn't sound at all compassionate.\"\n\nAdam turned back to him. \"Actually, it is compassionate. That disease could have wiped out the human race if it hadn't eventually been eradicated. Millions of people suffered unendurable hardship. An instant, massive purge would have been much easier on everyone, don't you think?\" Adam smiled. \"Compassion is relative, son. Like the pro-choice people used to say about abortion, 'Sometimes the most compassionate thing you can do for a child is to prevent its birth.' They had a point, you know.\"\n\nZinovy remained silent, remembering a recent conversation he'd had with Sara. The child might not believe so. The child might want a chance to live, even if it involved suffering.\n\nEric spoke the thought aloud: \"Don't you think the child should have the right to decide that?\"\n\nArchie agreed. \"You can't discount human life quite that easily.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Adam said. \"But you have to think about all this in broader terms. You're speaking of individuals. In cases where the survival of humanity is at stake individual sacrifices have to be made.\"\n\nZinovy watched the color creep up the back of Eric's neck. \"That's a bunch of bunk,\" the boy snapped. \"If an individual has no value, then why would humanity as a whole have any? Humanity is made up of individuals. I mean, zero multiplied a zillion times only equals zero. If an individual human being is worth zero—\"\n\n\"Hold on, there, young man,\" said Adam. \"You're getting emotional about this. Listen to what I'm saying. You need to think rationally.\" Eric snorted, but Adam went on. \"You must avoid emotional entanglement. Your focus, your powers of reason, your strength of will are all compromised when you become emotional.\"\n\nZinovy agreed with Adam on that point, but Eric persisted in being emotional. Adam didn't appear to notice the color spreading to the young man's face. He continued talking quietly. \"If your goals are limited, an emotional handicap is not significant. If you're living for yourself and your own personal happiness, it doesn't matter so much. But if you're living for a cause that's bigger than yourself you can't afford that kind of weakness.\"\n\nJust then Emery walked up. \"Archie, can you come here for a minute? Mark wants you.\"\n\n\"Can it wait? We have guests.\"\n\n\"He said it was urgent.\"\n\nArchie excused himself and went off with Emery. Adam continued, \"As I said before, if you keep your head, you can take any circumstance, any environment, and use it to your advantage. You can control anything.\"\n\nEric sat, arms folded across his chest, and glared at Adam. Zinovy understood the boy's argument. Though he didn't share Eric's instinctive distrust of control, something in Adam's explanation didn't sit right.\n\nThe visitor smiled at both of them. \"Have you ever heard of the practice of cloud-making?\"\n\nZinovy had. He raised his eyebrows.\n\nAdam laughed. \"You're skeptical.\"\n\n\"It's not scientific.\"\n\n\"Oh, but, it is. All psychic power is part of the physical world. It's science beyond our conscious knowledge, but it's science just the same. Everything fits into the realm of the material, Zinovy. You should know that. And we are the masters of that world. We just have to believe that and act it out. When we do, we'll finally be able to bring Utopia to all of humanity.\"\n\n\"That's hogwash,\" Eric said. \"Look at history. Everything we've touched we've ruined. You talk about cloud making. Sure, we can do it. We did do it. But who wants clouds that look like giant mushrooms?\"\n\nAdam studied Zinovy, deliberately ignoring Eric's remark. \"If it troubles you to look at it scientifically, Zinovy, you can take the whole cloud-making thing metaphorically. It works just as well that way.\"\n\nHe stood to leave, glancing down at the Russian crouching in the grass. \"I make my own clouds,\" he said. \"You can do the same if you like.\"\n\nEric got to his feet and stomped off. Adam gazed after him, then turned to Zinovy.\n\n\"He's young. The young tend to be reactive. He won't be of much use to us right now. But you, Zinovy—have you thought any more about—\"\n\nArchie walked up at that point. Zinovy was glad. He wasn't ready to answer the question. Not yet.\n\n\"Don't go, Adam. I've just arranged for dinner. You're welcome to join us.\"\n\n\"Thanks, but I need to go.\" He glanced toward the edge of the clearing and smiled. \"The natives are restless.\"\n\nThey walked him to his horse. \"I wanted to ask you more about what you've discovered,\" Archie said. \"The population was pretty well wiped out, you were saying, except for these Bedouins you've run into. Are you finding anyone else at all?\"\n\n\"We find small groups of people here and there. Some are traveling. Others are staying put, trying to develop settlements. It's damned difficult though, without tools or equipment. It's even hard to domesticate animals. It makes you wonder how people ever did it in the first place. We had the devil of a time getting a handle on these horses.\"\n\nZinovy glanced at the animal Adam held steady. The horse was an unusually large Arabian stallion, a good seventeen hands, with a strong head and intelligent eyes. He ran his hand down the horse's neck, but when he reached for the bridle to get a better look at the face, the horse whinnied and shied away, pulling his nose down and back toward his chest.\n\n\"Look,\" Zinovy said to Adam. \"This horse has a sore mouth. There's fresh blood.\"\n\n\"I know. Our bits aren't all shaped quite right. We had to whittle them out of ironwood and it wasn't easy to get a proper curve every time. But it works, and we don't have time to worry about the details. The horses adjust after a while. This one just needs some breaking in. I've only had him a week.\" He laughed. \"Our biggest problem is the reins. They're made of braided vines and the horses eat them if we don't keep them out of the way.\"\n\nHe changed the subject. \"I've noticed you've got women in your party,\" he said, surveying the camp with narrowed eyes.\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\n\"How did that happen?\"\n\nFor some reason the question annoyed Zinovy. He considered avoiding the answer, but instead he found himself answering:\n\n\"One was part of the shuttle crew. One was underground working at the base. The other we ran into aboveground soon after we arrived.\" He stopped there. Adam was staring at something over Zinovy's shoulder. Zinovy turned to see what had captured the visitor's attention. Sara was bending over her bedroll, getting ready for the night.\n\nAdam turned back to Zinovy. \"That must slow you down some,\" he observed.\n\n\"Not noticeably. They're all in good shape.\"\n\nAdam chuckled. \"Yes. I can see that.\"\n\nZinovy's annoyance deepened.\n\nThe group mounted. Adam took the lead. He straightened and turned to look back at his men as they started out. Then, with a flourish, he dug a heel into his mount's side and pulled back on the reins. The horse screamed and reared, but the man was in control. With one sharp dig of his heels in the horse's side they were off.\n\nZinovy cringed. The yank on the reins and the kick in the side were unnecessary, but Adam had an audience. Sara was watching the party ride away. Zinovy watched Sara, in turn, trying to decipher the expression on her face. She didn't appear to have been impressed, but he couldn't tell for sure. Women were hard to figure out that way. Adam was obviously a skilled horse handler, whatever else he might be.\n\n* * *\n\nThe next day they moved on and the crew settled into their routine again. Caleb seemed unaffected by the incident with the Bedouin rider. The horses had fascinated him. He galloped and whinnied everywhere now.\n\n\"Aslan is a horse too,\" he solemnly informed Zinovy. \"He's a pony, 'cause he's not as big as I am.\" The orphans were good for each other, Zinovy thought. He was glad he'd brought the cub back with him.\n\nAt lunch, Archie approached the riverbank where Zinovy sat eating with Sara and Caleb. \"Zinovy, can we talk a minute?\" he said. Zinovy rose and the two walked a short distance away, out of earshot, but still within sight of the group. Their vigilance had become second nature to both of them.\n\n\"I wanted to pass on to you something Mark said to me yesterday,\" Archie began. \"Remember when we were talking with Adam, and Emery came to get me? I wondered why Mark didn't just come over, himself. Well, when I got to him he was agitated, and it wasn't about the incident with Caleb and the Bedouin. He was upset about Adam.\"\n\n\"I don't see why. Adam acted civilly enough,\" Zinovy munched on a long, slender piece of fruit from a tree he'd never seen before, savoring the red, juicy sweetness, trying to identify the unique taste.\n\n\"He said it was just a premonition. He feels the man is dangerous, and he thinks we should be cautious with him.\"\n\n\"Mark isn't one to put stock in such things as premonitions.\" Zinovy tossed the fruit pit into a bush. \"And why is he only telling you now? Why not before?\"\n\n\"Apparently he'd not seen Adam before—not up close, anyway. He never sat in on any of the discussions we had. He was always off with his family somewhere.\"\n\nZinovy thought back. No, it had only been some of the crew and the boys at those talks. Grace hadn't even come. \"I guess that's right. Adam mentioned the women yesterday as if he'd not seen them before. They were in the background when he was here other times.\"\n\n\"Well, it doesn't matter, except that I'm not quite sure what to do with Mark's warning.\"\n\n\"I don't see a big problem with Adam. He's abrupt sometimes, but he's generally a reasonable person.\"\n\nThey discussed the matter briefly, but came to no conclusions. \"We'd better get back,\" Archie finally said. \"It's time to get these guys bedded down or we'll never get them going in the morning. If we didn't push them, we wouldn't get anywhere.\"\n\nAnd the next morning they pushed. For another week they pushed, and the pushing got harder every day. No outside force disturbed their travel. The bright, luminous air danced around them, clean and invigorating, filled with euphoric birdsong. But ominous clouds were forming in another place. Birds were not the only delirious ones. The world was falling apart around them once again.\n\n* * *\n\nSara's delirium was the beginning. It spread.\n\nBefore long the whole camp was affected. Zinovy watched as, one by one, various members of the crew succumbed to the affliction. He wasn't sure if the problem was a physical one—something to do with an invisible element in the radiated air they breathed—or an emotional one—a delayed reaction, perhaps, to the stress they'd been through. Either way it was dangerous, and it was going to be hard to deal with.\n\nThe effect was not universal. Each crew member reacted in a different way. Some became agitated and morose. Carter, Grace and the Muellers fell into this category. Carter, predictably, became grumpier. He muttered constantly to himself, was dissatisfied with everything, and chafed at every delay. He'd been at all of the meetings with Adam, never speaking, but listening intently. Zinovy suspected he was comparing the progress of their own small clan with the ambitions of the Regulus movement and feeling his crew was going nowhere, and too slowly.\n\nGrace became quiet—too quiet. She functioned all right, but little by little the joyous excitement she'd exhibited since her recovery from the sickness faded. Now she walked under a cloud of unhappiness. Zinovy wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she kept to herself more and more and he was so busy with Sara and Caleb he hadn't had time to seek her out.\n\nAnd Mark and Michelle—those two had lost their nerve. The incident with the Bedouins had taken its toll. Mark was edgy. Michelle was paranoid, hovering over the children, who were, of all the crew, the least concerned about anything. They romped and played without a care as their distracted parents scurried around trying to keep them under control. The children loved the water. They would have swum to the city if anybody had let them.\n\nThe others—Sara, Eric and the boys—were afflicted with the \"morale\" disease at the other end of the scale. Eric, surprisingly, had become a big part of the problem.\n\nHis negativity about Adam was the first sign that something was wrong. The day after the Bedouin incident he said to Zinovy, \"I'm becoming less and less enamored with that guy, you know it? There's something too smooth about him. He comes across as so perfect, but there are kangaroos loose in the top paddock if you ask me.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't sure what had precipitated Eric's dislike—possibly the snub Adam had given him when they first met—but the boy had gone off on a weird tangent, and his detour from sanity ran parallel with Sara's.\n\nThe problem worsened when it began to affect the Canaveral boys. Eric and Sara had taken to meeting over the little red book. They sat every night now after supper, reading and chatting. One by one, the boys had begun to join them, and they were becoming distracted. They were harder to get going in the mornings and eager to stop early at night. They lingered over meals, talking and laughing, and they dawdled along the trail. Archie and Zinovy spent their days moving up and down the line of stragglers, urging them on. By the end of the week after their encounter with the Bedouins, Zinovy had decided that Archie was the only sane one left in the bunch.\n\nArchie had reminded everyone of their weekly crew meeting at supper, but no one seemed interested. After they ate, some of the boys went off with Eric where they sat down and began a lively meeting of their own. The rest ran to a nearby clearing and began a raucous game of football.\n\nThe Muellers disappeared for the night. Carter tromped to the edge of the camp and sat down under a tree by himself. Sara went to settle Caleb, and Grace wandered over to join the discussion with the boys and Eric. Archie and Zinovy sat in the center of the camp, watching all the activity around them.\n\n\"Are you going to call them to the meeting?\" Zinovy finally asked.\n\nArchie shook his head. \"We really only have one thing to discuss and you're the one I need to talk to about that,\" he said.\n\n\"Is it to do with Adam?\"\n\n\"No. It's the morale problem. I don't know what to do about it.\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"I know what you mean.\" They sat, thinking. Finally Zinovy said, \"We must find the source of the problem I think.\"\n\n\"Well, the source seems to be that book of Eric's. They talk about it all the time.\"\n\nZinovy nodded again. Moving back and forth along the trail he caught snatches of conversation from every cluster of stragglers and the talk was always about the book. Passing Mike and Emery he heard: \"But what did he expect? What would you do if someone said you were going to have to eat his flesh and drink his blood?\"\n\n\"Maybe he knew they'd leave if he said that.\"\n\n\"But why would he want them to?\"\n\nPast Raheem and Graham: \"He wasn't literally a lamb. That's stupid. It was just an analogy.\"\n\n\"But why a lamb? If he wanted to be respected, he should have picked a lion, or a tiger, or an eagle.\"\n\nConrad and Alex: \"It's impossible, Alex. If the man was dead, he was dead. Either he hadn't really died, and he came back to them, or he had, and the one they thought was him wasn't.\"\n\nZinovy had shaken his head at the intensity of their preoccupation. Now he plucked a piece of fruit from a nearby bush and said to Archie, \"They're all talking nonsense. The remedy has to be a good dose of rational thinking. You and I need to talk with them when they sit to discuss.\"\n\nArchie nodded. \"You're right. They were up for hours last night. Maybe we should institute a curfew. They've got to be getting tired. That in itself will slow us down.\"\n\nZinovy wasn't sure a curfew would work. \"It would be hard to enforce, I think. They're not used to confinement, and it's not how you do things anyway. Maybe just coming alongside them with logic and truth is the best way to go. I'll sit down with them next time they meet and see if there's anything I can do. Tomorrow is a rest day. They'll probably be at it again. I'll join them.\"\n\nZinovy's first attempt at bringing sanity back into the camp was not an overwhelming success. The crew played in the river all day, then, in the early evening, they gathered around the book. The crowd grew, people coming one by one, each listening for a while, then joining in the discussion. Zinovy wandered up and leaned against a tree in what he hoped was an unobtrusive manner. It would do no good to interfere with the discussion until he'd earned the right to be heard.\n\nSara was harping on the metaphor idea. She sat cross-legged in a patch of moss, resting her elbows on her knees, and posed her challenge to the group: \"What if metaphors are real—I mean, not just pictures of things, but the actual things themselves?\"\n\nZinovy noticed a few cynical frowns at this remark. \"You mean like, 'your teeth are like stars, they come out at night'?\" Eric asked.\n\n\"Not all of them, silly,\" she said, giggling. \"Not the ones humans make up. But what if the Creator has made some? What if truth is actually a person, say?\"\n\n\"Truth isn't a metaphor,\" Graham pointed out.\n\n\"Okay. So it's not metaphors I'm talking about, but concepts. What if those kinds of things—things like wisdom and love—aren't just concepts, but are really real, almost touchable?\" Sara paused and looked up at the quizzical expressions on their faces. Then she went on. \"What if our concepts are just shadows of the reality, like Plato said? What if truth was a person, in the very beginning, and only became just a concept when human beings came onto the scene?\"\n\n\"Or maybe not when they first came on the scene,\" added Eric, catching on to her train of thought, \"but when they lost their sense of reality, like when they turned away from Truth to go their own way. It was like the connection was broken. They lost their ability to see or touch it.\"\n\nSara nodded. \"Yes. But not 'it,' Eric. 'Him.' It's a person, I think. People started thinking their minds could create the ultimate reality, then they invented the word, 'concept' to describe the 'reality' they'd created. But all along their concept of reality was what was unreal.\"\n\nZinovy's mind went cross-eyed.\n\nBut Eric was pointing to the book again. \"That's what it says. Remember how in the story this bloke, Jesus, is always saying things people take to be literal, but he's really talking about something spiritual—something you can't see?\"\n\n\"You mean like the 'being born again' business.\" Alex said.\n\n\"Yeah. The guy he said that to asked how he could climb back inside his mother and come out again. But Jesus said it was a spirit thing, not a physical thing.\"\n\n\"Where was that?\" Sara asked.\n\nEric had his finger in the place. He opened the book and read, \"In reply Jesus declared, 'I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.'\"\n\nSara straightened. \"Wow. That gives me goose bumps. Don't you see? That's what I was talking about. There's a reality—what he calls the kingdom of God—maybe it's what we call 'the Truth'—that's invisible. You can't see it with physical eyes, but it's real—maybe even more real than the physical things.\"\n\nThey were silent for a while. Then Sara took the next logical step.\n\n\"What if Caleb really sees 'the Truth'—walks and talks with him. Let's say that in the beginning humans could walk and talk with him too—actually walk and talk with Wisdom, with Truth, personified. But their turning away broke that all up. They turned away from the Person and after that the Person was lost to them.\"\n\n\"You're thinking bass ackwards, Sara,\" said Emery.\n\n\"Maybe. Or else maybe we've all been thinking bass ackwards all our lives. Who's to say?\"\n\n\"No one,\" Graham said. \"That's the whole point.\"\n\nThen the debate grew heated. Zinovy was pleased to see that not everyone swallowed the nonsense. There was hope for a return to sanity if the rational ones could prevail. The group was almost evenly divided between those who were intrigued by Sara's nonsense and those who were vociferously opposed. But Sara was unmoved by the criticism. \"You don't understand,\" she finally told them. \"You don't understand because you haven't seen Him. I saw Him, and I talked with Him, and I know he was not a figment of my imagination.\"\n\nZinovy stood, listening, until the last one had spoken. The argument had not been won or lost. Everyone simply wound down and trudged off to their bedrolls. Zinovy yawned, shook his head, and followed them. He hadn't said a word. He would bide his time and try again.\n\nBut Zinovy's second attempt was no better. Nor his third. They met regularly, and he came, time after time, sitting on the edge of the discussion, watching for an opening—a chance to speak against their madness—but the opening never came. He found himself listening, instead, to their arguments, and the arguments were having a disturbing effect on him. Finally he went to Archie. \"I'm getting nowhere,\" he announced. \"We both need to do this. It's your turn.\"\n\n* * *\n\n\"Archie, please,\" Emery begged. \"Just this once.\"\n\nIt was mid-morning. They'd stopped for lunch at a bend in the river where a bubbling run of waterfalls galloped along the edge of the bank beside them. The stones in the run were smooth, with hollowed centers. They formed a natural water slide into the deeper flow running gently down the middle of the river. The boys had sent a delegation to their commander.\n\n\"Please, Archie,\" Raheem coaxed. \"Only a little longer.\"\n\n\"We're due for a rest day tomorrow,\" Archie reminded them. \"We really need to make time.\"\n\n\"But we'll never find this good a section of the river again,\" Emery said. \"Look how the rocks make that slide along the bank there.\"\n\nAnd so they argued, bordering on mutiny. Archie gave in reluctantly. \"All right. I guess an hour or two won't make that much difference.\" He straightened and put his hands on his hips. \"I'm not setting a precedent, mind you. It's my job to make sure we get where we're going and that purpose is going to have to prevail.\"\n\nThe boys went off to tell the others and Archie went to find Grace. \"Maybe we can use the extra time to catch up on the log,\" he muttered to Zinovy as he left.\n\nZinovy settled on the riverbank to watch the children play.\n\n\"Come,\" Caleb called from the bright waves. \"Come play with us, Novy.\"\n\nZinovy shook his head and leaned back against a tree. \"You play. I'll watch.\"\n\nHe was not fond of water. His cousins had taught him to swim and it had not been a pleasant educational experience. Water in large doses was unpredictable, unsubstantial and uncontrollable.\n\n\"But it's so much fun,\" the boy said. A splash in the face from Eric distracted him and he paddled off to take his revenge. Zinovy watched the altercation with mixed feelings.\n\nFun. A strange word. Zinovy tried to remember the last time he'd had fun. In military school he'd played games with his comrades, but their games had been part of their training—tests of skill and wits—nothing like this aimless splashing around in unrestricted levity with absolutely no reason behind it. Life was serious then and commitment to the communist cause had overwhelmed any thought of fun.\n\nBut now the seriousness of life, the earnestness of commitment to a cause—all things that were his reason for being—were gone. Even his determination to seek vengeance on Anton had weakened. Everything he used to take so seriously had been dissolved, or perhaps enveloped, in this big, crazy, bright, laughing world that made no sense at all.\n\nYet the darkness in that other world had been painful and ugly. The darkness had made the seriousness and the earnestness necessary. Human greed was the foundation of that other world, and devastation and misery had been built upon that foundation.\n\nFor a moment Zinovy gave in. He decided to play a game—one inspired by Sara's comments about observation. Not a hilarious game, but for a first attempt it wasn't bad, he thought, and it had no real purpose, so it should qualify.\n\nHe stretched out on his stomach, closed his eyes, and laid his forehead on his folded arms. He listened, focusing on the present moment, to the sounds around him. The children's laughter, the splashes, the bird songs, the bees humming. He could almost hear the grass growing beneath him, the worms pushing up through the loam around the large, red flowers beside him.\n\nGently, the realization came, like words being planted in his head: This is how it was meant to be.\n\nIf it is so—if it was meant to be like this—then why is it not?\n\n\"It was not the Creator's design. Human beings made it so.\"\n\nZinovy's head flew up. Beside him sat Elan, gazing into the luminescence over the pool where the children played.\n\nZinovy could not get used to the way the man moved around. His ability to come and go at will, with apparent total disregard for the limitations of either time or space, was one of the mind-blowing assaults on Zinovy's reason that constantly threatened his sanity. Even more disconcerting was the way the line between his thoughts and Elan's sometimes seemed blurred, or even non-existent.\n\n\"What did you say?\" Zinovy asked.\n\n\"I said the Creator meant it to be fun.\"\n\nZinovy stared at him, frowning, and Elan smiled. \"Look how Caleb laughs—how free his laughter is. The Creator is laughing with him, can't you see that?\"\n\nIn spite of his discomfort, almost annoyance, with Elan's easy presumption that a creator was involved, Zinovy couldn't help looking in Caleb's direction. The boy was splashing Peter in the face and laughing as the water danced off his eyelashes and trickled down his nose. Peter retaliated with an ambitious volume of water. Caleb ducked under the glistening ripples and came up under Jenna's right arm, sending her head over heels in showers of high-pitched giggles. Zinovy squinted at Caleb, trying to see the boy through Elan's eyes.\n\n\"He's doing what he was created to do,\" Elan said. \"He's enjoying.\"\n\nZinovy became aware of a strange stirring within him. The stirring gradually turned into a struggle, then an all-out war. Exasperation, pride, confusion, and fear, on the one side, wrestled desperately with a growing, residual germ of longing—a hope that was struggling just as desperately deep in Zinovy's soul.\n\nThe hope, at first vague and formless, gradually crystallized in his mind. He found himself longing, for all he was worth, to discover some sense, some purpose within or around all the tangled mess human beings had made of the world—the mess that had made enjoyment impossible.\n\nFinally, out of desperation, Zinovy chose sides in the battle. Turning a deaf ear to all the voices clamoring against the tiny hope that gently, but firmly pressed to the surface of his consciousness, he turned full to Elan and asked, \"Why did He allow the evil to destroy the laughter then?\"\n\nThe struggle was silenced at once by the light on the bright one's face.\n\nElan pondered, choosing his words carefully. \"The Creator allowed his creatures freedom of choice because He loved them. Freedom to choose was the only way He could give them dignity. He knew the freedom would allow them to choose evil, and that bondage would come as a result. He was willing to take that risk. It was the only way.\"\n\nElan turned and looked at Zinovy, as if to gauge his reaction. Then he went on. \"He chose to give us the dignity of self-determination. He will always respect that choice. And we all have to live with the consequences.\"\n\nElan's inclusion of himself in his references to human beings didn't elude Zinovy. So he was human. Yet he was certainly more than that. Zinovy pushed the insight into the back of his mind, to deal with later. There were other pressing questions: \"But could not something be done about the consequences? Must they have been so harsh?\"\n\nElan's brow creased. \"The consequences had to stay. Removing them would have removed the choice, and the freedom along with it. And, yes, they had to be harsh. They needed to be as intense as the love that allowed the choosing.\"\n\nLight, beauty and goodness saturated the air around them, throwing into stark relief Zinovy's memory of the darkness—the pain and evil that had ravaged the old world—the world he'd grown up in. He was overwhelmed with the contrast. \"But people didn't know how harsh the consequences would be.\"\n\n\"They were told. They were told their rebellion would lead to death, but they chose to ignore the warning. They wanted freedom from the Creator's dominion, and they were unwilling to believe it would also mean freedom from life and beauty, peace and joy—all that we have here.\" Elan raised his hand to the view before them.\n\nWhat fools they were, Zinovy thought.\n\nElan's response was gentle. \"Have you never done the same?\"\n\nZinovy turned again to Elan, taken aback by the question. \"I would have chosen this over the other, if it had been me. How could anyone not?\"\n\n\"But would you choose submission to the Creator as well?\" Elan probed.\n\nZinovy stiffened. \"It's madness to submit to another. I could never give up my right to control my own destiny.\"\n\n\"When you choose to submit to the Creator—when you choose to trust him in that way—you're not giving up your right to control your destiny, you're exercising it. And it's not a once-in-a-lifetime decision. You affirm that choice—or refute it—every time you make a moral decision, every day of your life.\"\n\nElan reached out and put a hand on Zinovy's shoulder. \"The Creator will never take away your right to choose, Zinovy. But your experience will eventually limit your options. You will be so overcome by evidence of his goodness that choosing against him will be like renouncing the air you breathe. You will find it impossible not to trust. That's when the joy becomes unbearably delightful. You wait and see.\"\n\n\"You speak as if from experience.\"\n\nElan dropped his hand and smiled. \"I do.\"\n\nZinovy was mystified. How could freedom and submission go together? Submission meant repression, restriction, oppression—not this exultant, intoxicating sense of boundless energy that danced around him.\n\nElan spoke once more. \"What would you think of someone who was offered freedom, but chose instead to build a box around himself, closing everything else out, and imprisoning himself in the process?\"\n\nZinovy started. Again Elan's insight was eerie.\n\n\"You can choose the freedom of submission, or you can stay in your box, Zinovy. It's up to you.\"\n\nZinovy turned to look at the man, but he was gone.\n\nThe joyful laughter of the children as they splashed and dove intruded into his reverie. The thought came to him that he could join them in the pool. He didn't. He remained on the bank, watching them instead.\n\nCHAPTER NINETEEN\n\nIt was rest day again.\n\nZinovy didn't need a rest, but he needed a break. He'd been bombarded by too many new things lately—too many intrusions—too many questions without answers. He glanced at the river where Sara and the children played. They were well protected. Eric and several of the boys were with them. Eric lifted Caleb out of the water and chuckled at something the tot said. Zinovy stretched out on his back and laid his book over his eyes, relaxing into the warmth of the cushioning grass under him, listening to the hypnotic hum of the bees working a yellow flower field nearby.\n\nAt once the book was lifted off his face. Zinovy squinted up into the brightness and gasped. The eyes of the man who stood before him were piercing, yet gentle.\n\n\"Hello Zjama.\"\n\n\"Do I know you?\" Zinovy asked in a daze.\n\n\"We haven't been formally introduced.\" The man smiled. \"Would you walk with me?\"\n\nHe reached down a hand and waited. Automatically, because it was there and because he was asleep, Zinovy took the hand and was lifted effortlessly to his feet. They walked away from the river into a copse of delicate lime-green trees. The brightness went with them.\n\nAs always, there seemed to be no shadow in this bizarre land. There was a path and they followed it, walking in step, as if their feet responded to the same nerve impulses. Strange. And there were other strangenesses: \"You speak Russian?\"\n\n\"But of course,\" the stranger replied.\n\n\"And you know my name?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nThey walked a while, Zinovy taking it in. Finally he said, \"They changed my name to Kim at military school. They said Zinovy was archaic.\" He looked over at the stranger. \"But you called me Zjama.\" He frowned. \"It has been many years since I was called Zjama.\"\n\nMemory overwhelmed him, taking him like a strong ocean wave. His mind tumbled topsy-turvy underwater and washed up on the beach of his heart, struggling for a foothold in the surf. The memories were wordless—impressions only—scenes from his early childhood. Anguish, longing and a loneliness so strong he could not speak overcame him.\n\nThe stranger brought him around again. \"Your mother called you Zjama.\"\n\n\"How did you know?\"\n\n\"I knew her well. You were very young when you lost her.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Zinovy said.\n\nAgain the memories washed over him. He smelled the clean, tangy fragrance of the lye soap his mother used on laundry day. He heard the low guttural sounds of her singing. He saw her worn hands working the washboard, the tendrils of damp hair on her brow, the deep sadness in her eyes—always the sadness—when she looked up from her work.\n\nHe remembered the day the soldiers came. His mother was hanging up the wash in the back yard and he was with her, holding onto her skirts. He'd clutched her more tightly as the men rounded the corner of the house, his fingers responding to a vague sense of danger. They were tall men and they had guns.\n\n\"She is mad,\" they'd said. \"Unfit to live alone.\" Her ravings had apparently been reported by the people in the next house, who'd heard her wailing prayers in the night.\n\nThe wails came again as they dragged her away. Zinovy wailed as well. He tugged frantically at the soldier's hand, desperate to free his mother. She reached out to him, trying to escape.\n\nShe was not a small woman, and desperation—or madness—had made her strong. The soldiers were losing the battle until one of them raised his weapon above her head and brought the butt down hard.\n\nInstantly there was blood—great bursts of it. She slumped in their arms and they carried her away. Zinovy's screams had followed them, gradually growing fainter as the neighbors took his little body forcefully in hand.\n\nZinovy glanced up at the stranger, whose face grew hazy through the mist of memory still clouding his eyes. The man stood beside him, close to his elbow, silent, but attentive. Immediately Zinovy's mind went back to his mother and he thought of her religion.\n\nWhy would such ideas come to him now?\n\nFor as long as Zinovy could remember his mother had been distracted by her grief for his father. She'd spent long hours crying out to a God Zinovy did not know—a God who never answered her. Yet she'd seemed so solid, so secure—unwavering in her faith.\n\n\"I didn't want her to go.\" Zinovy spoke these words aloud, still lost in the past, forgetting even to wonder about the stranger's intimate understanding of it all.\n\n\"I know.\"\n\nZinovy looked, finally, at the stranger's face and was astonished to find the man's eyes full of tears. Zinovy saw the reflection of his own pain in those brimming eyes, and yet it was as if the pain were being shared—as if the anguish were the stranger's as well.\n\nZinovy was shaken. He turned away, gathered his wits and responded, \"Well, it was a long time ago. Water under the bridge, as they say. I am a man now. I'm over it.\"\n\nThere was no reply. Zinovy resisted the urge to look up, fearing the face of the stranger, unnerved by the discovery of how easily his heart could be turned inside out. Finally the man spoke again. \"Yes, you are a man now.\" Zinovy released his breath in a long, slow whisper. Then the stranger continued. \"But there is still a small boy inside who needs to grieve.\"\n\nZinovy said nothing. He was too busy struggling against his emotions.\n\n\"I was there, you know,\" the stranger went on as if to explain his insight into Zinovy's past.\n\nZinovy shivered. \"No. I didn't know. I didn't see you.\"\n\nThey walked in silence. Then, \"I've always been there, Zinovy.\"\n\nTears came to Zinovy's eyes. He blinked them away. He hadn't tasted his own tears in a long time. It wouldn't do to allow them here, especially in front of a stranger. But his heart was full of them, swelling with them, wanting release so badly his chest hurt.\n\nNow the stranger turned to him, looked with those piercing eyes into the depths of his soul and asked a question. \"Do you know what your name means?\"\n\nZinovy was stricken by the dazzling intensity of the eyes, and taken aback by the sudden change of topic. He shifted his gaze to the top of the leafy glade, and thought again of his mother. He remembered, now, a thing she had told him shortly before he lost her:\n\n\"Zjama, wherever you go, whatever you do, always remember what your name means.\"\n\n\"What does it mean, Mama?\" he had asked, wondering at the seriousness of her tone.\n\nShe had taken his face in her hands, lifted it to her own, and said: \"Your name, Zinovy, means 'walking with God'.\"\n\nZinovy felt the man's eyes on him—felt the warmth of the compassion in those eyes. Desperately he fought for control. Then the stranger said, \"Tears are a good thing, Zinovy.\"\n\nZinovy's legs melted. He sank to his knees in the soft grass. Something turned over inside him—a golden goblet brimming with all the feelings he'd supressed since the day they'd told him, \"Zinovy, you are a man now. You have to be strong.\"\n\nThe tears spilled out of his soul onto the ground where his body now lay crumpled. He tried to draw them back—to stop the flow. What he was doing was unthinkable. But the deluge continued, its flow stronger than his power to resist, until, finally, his spirit melted and he gave himself over to the grief, abandoning his pride for the sheer relief of letting go.\n\nHe cried for his mother. He cried for the father he'd never known. He cried for the baby chicks he'd once loved so tenderly, and lost. He cried for Nadya and the baby he hadn't had a chance to know either. And little by little, comfort seeped into his soul, replacing the tears, filling the empty corners of his heart.\n\nLater, much later, when his tears were spent, he remembered the stranger. He turned to look once again into those gentle eyes, but they were gone. A slight breeze shimmered through the dazzling brilliance of the day.\n\nAs Zinovy re-focused on the reality of the moment, he heard, almost as a whisper, the stranger's last words: \"You've always been Zinovy.\"\n\nHe was back again, under his book, when Sara came running up to the bright shade of their picnic spot. He woke with her coming, dazed and silenced by the strangeness of his dream.\n\n\"Where did you go?\" Sara asked.\n\n\"I went nowhere.\" he replied. \"I've been asleep here since you left.\"\n\n\"No you haven't. Why would you tell me that? I saw you go off with the stranger a while ago.\"\n\nZinovy studied her face, confused, looking for signs she was teasing, but she continued to watch him, waiting for an answer. The noisy arrival of the children, back from their swim, saved him from an explanation.\n\n\"Hello Novy,\" Caleb said. \"Did you bring me another surprise from the forest?\"\n\nThere was a pause. \"No.\" Zinovy said, distractedly. \"Not this time, Caleb.\" He glanced down, amazed to find the dampness of fresh tears on his shirt.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy slept restlessly that night. Perhaps that explained his instant reaction when the cry rang out. He was on his feet and running before he was fully awake. Eric scrambled up and followed.\n\nThe two of them had bedded down in a thicket near the center of camp and so were the first to reach Simon, who was standing at the northern edge of the compound, hopping from one foot to the other, clutching his arm. Blood oozed from between his fingers.\n\nSoon the whole camp was awake. Grace ran up and took Simon's elbow. \"Stand still. Let's see what's happened to you.\" She drew his hand aside and probed the wound on his forearm. He winced and pulled away. Archie stood over him, hair tousled, clothing awry, and barked out his questions. \"What happened? What are you doing over here?\"\n\nSimon grimaced and told his story. \"I got up to go to the john,\" he began. \"I heard a rustling sound over there where we stashed the supplies last night so I went over to see what was going on. These two big guys came crashing out of the bushes and ran away.\" He looked down at Grace, \"Don't touch it. It really hurts.\"\n\n\"Someone go get the medical kit,\" Grace said, looking around at the other boys who stood staring, dazed with sleep. Raheem detached himself from the crowd and sprinted over to the tree where they'd hung the supplies while Simon went on with his story.\n\n\"So anyway, I started after them. It was probably a dumb thing to do, but I just reacted. One of them turned around and slashed at me with a knife. Then they took off.\"\n\n\"Which direction?\" Archie asked. Simon pointed to a break in the shrubbery to the north. \"Zinovy, you and Eric—after them,\" Archie ordered.\n\nZinovy was happy to go. He and Eric were gone before Archie had finished his sentence.\n\nThey found nothing, of course. The shrubbery to the north of the camp opened out into a vast meadow. They could see for miles, and there was no sign of movement anywhere. \"We might as well go back,\" Eric said. \"They're gone by now.\"\n\nWhen they got back, Simon was still bleeding and the crew were studying something on the ground at their feet. It was the empty box their supplies had been stored in. Only a few rags of clothing remained.\n\nArchie swore. \"They've taken our medical supplies, our shovels, the log book—everything.\" He stooped down and riffled through the box again. Then he stood up and looked around. \"They've got the knives too. Both of them. Damn. Our only weapons.\"\n\nSimon still clutched his arm and the blood continued to ooze, though not so freely. Grace looked around. \"There's got to be something we can put on this wound,\" she said.\n\nSara had stood quietly by during the search. Now she said, \"I know something. I saw some growing nearby on our way into the camp last night.\" She turned away and charged off to the edge of the clearing.\n\nZinovy loped after her. \"Stop. Are you still so stupid to think you can go off into the bush alone?\"\n\nShe frowned up at him and continued on her way, leading him past the shrubbery that encircled the camp to an avocado-colored plant growing alongside a large population of calla lilies he'd noticed earlier. She proceeded to pluck a couple of the broad, thin leaves near the base of the stem where the largest ones grew, and headed back to the others, snapping off a length of vine as she went.\n\n\"Move over,\" she commanded, as she reached Simon. They made a path for her and she took Simon's arm. Zinovy leaned in for a closer look. The blood masked the area around the wound, but it looked to be about ten centimeters long and, judging by the way the flesh was splayed out around the center, at least a centimeter deep.\n\n\"Elan showed me these leaves,\" Sara explained to the others. \"They have healing properties. Just lay it on your arm, Simon, like so, and then we'll wrap these vines around. It'll be okay by tomorrow.\" Zinovy scoffed inwardly as Sara finished tying the ends of the vine, giving the poultice a final pat before she sent Simon on his way.\n\nEveryone dispersed. \"Let's try to get some sleep,\" Archie said. \"I want to start on time tomorrow if we can.\"\n\nZinovy turned and moved off to the edge of the camp where Conrad, who was on scout duty that night, was supposed to be posted. The boy was nowhere in sight.\n\nZinovy couldn't remember seeing him in the group of boys surrounding Simon, but he supposed he had been there, lost in the confusion. Zinovy had just turned back toward the sleep site, intending to rouse Conrad and put him back on duty, when the boy appeared at the edge of the shrubbery on the south side of the camp.\n\n\"Conrad. I was coming to get you. Why were you not at your post?\"\n\n\"I was checking, looking for something the men might have dropped.\"\n\n\"Didn't you hear Simon say they went to the north?\"\n\nConrad nodded. \"Yeah. I began over that way, then came around on the outside, but I didn't see any movement. I think they're long gone.\"\n\n\"How did the men get into the center of the camp past you in first place? Didn't you hear them come?\"\n\nConrad shrugged. \"I don't know. They must have kept low, or come in from behind me. I didn't see them until I heard Simon yell.\"\n\nZinovy rubbed his chin. Conrad shifted from one foot to the other. \"I did find this,\" he said, and handed over a black notebook.\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows. \"This will please Archie. Did you find anything else?\"\n\n\"No. That was all.\"\n\n\"Okay. Will you manage to stay awake for the rest of your watch, or do you need to be relieved?\"\n\n\"No. I'm okay. Thanks.\" The boy sat down on a clump of moss and settled into a position that gave him a broad view of the camp and its environs. Zinovy headed back to the command center. It was good they had the logbook back, but the next entry would document an alarming increase in the vulnerability of their defense system.\n\n* * *\n\n\"We need to talk about our situation,\" Archie began at their meeting the next night. \"The business of the knife thievery jacks our need for a defense strategy up a notch or two.\" He looked around at the boys as he spoke, waiting for signs they were taking him seriously. They were. He went on.\n\n\"The first thing we have to do is increase the night watch. From now on I want two guards on duty at all times. Now, hold on, hold on,\" he continued, as a din of protests rose from the crowd. \"I know that will double your duty time, so Eric, Zinovy, Charles and I are willing to add ourselves to the roster. We're going to serve night watch along with you.\" He took out the logbook and read the schedule he and Zinovy had worked out. \"Ruben, you and Alex will go on duty tonight. Then tomorrow night Simon and Graham are on—\"\n\nSimon interrupted, \"Why can't Ruben and I be together? We always go together. It's better that way.\"\n\n\"No, it's not, Simon. If you and Ruben are together you'll distract each other. You won't pay attention.\"\n\n\"That's not true,\" Ruben interjected. \"If we're together we'll be more alert, because we'll be looking out for each other.\" The two boys sat together, arms folded, determination on their faces.\n\nArchie gave in. \"Okay. I guess it doesn't make that much difference. Ruben, we'll put you with Simon, and Alex and Graham can go together. We'd better put Alex and Graham on tonight. That will give you another day to rest your arm, Simon. How is it, by the way?\"\n\nZinovy rolled his eyes. If these boys had argued with their commander in Russia they would have been shot. But Simon's response to Archie's query captured his attention again.\n\n\"It's fine.\" Simon pulled his sleeve up and thrust his arm out in front of them. Zinovy gaped. The poultice was gone, and so was the wound.\n\n\"Let me see that,\" he said, reaching out and pulling Simon's arm over for a closer look. Nothing but a faint scar remained of the deep wound Zinovy had seen in that flesh less than twenty-four hours ago.\n\nArchie continued with his agenda. \"Well, we'll put you two on for tomorrow night then.\" He ripped the page from the logbook. \"I'll post this schedule here on the tree so the rest of you can check it after the meeting. Meanwhile, we need to talk about something else.\"\n\nHe took a breath and went on. \"The loss of the knives is bad. For one thing, it deprived us of our only weapons.\" He glanced at Zinovy. \"Well, not quite. We do have one weapon left, but only Zinovy can use it.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. He and Archie had talked about this earlier in the day. Somehow Archie had found out about the special skill in his hands. Archie couldn't have known the specifics just from the killing of the vandal, or from the incident with the Bedouin. Carter must have told him. Carter was the only one who knew anything about Zinovy's past, and he was a blabbermouth.\n\nZinovy didn't mind Archie's knowing. The commander was right. They needed every weapon available and Zinovy was ready to be of service—even to kill again if it became necessary to protect the crew. His frown deepened as he remembered Elan's reaction to the last time. The incident with Sara's attacker had proven his hands were still fit, and the instinct would always be there. But he was only one person, and he couldn't be everywhere.\n\nArchie was still speaking to the crew. \"But the bigger problem is that the weapons we've lost have fallen into the hands of our enemies. They've already used a knife on one of our crew and they'll likely do it again.\"\n\nZinovy looked around at the circle of upturned faces. All were thoughtful. All were young. All were completely vulnerable. He groaned inwardly. This was their army. God help them. He quietly assessed the strength of the enemy. First there'd been the lion kill. Then the rape attempt. The rape attempt had eliminated two of the vandals.\n\nOr wait. What if it hadn't? One of them was dead, but Elan had taken the other away. What if he'd released him instead of eliminating him? Zinovy grimaced. Either way, at least two enemies were still active, maybe more. They had no way of knowing how many, or where they were, or when they might attack. The old gloom was settling over Zinovy. He'd been a fool to think the worst was over.\n\nArchie's voice interrupted his dark foreboding. \"I'm saying this just to make you aware. We need to be alert at all times.\"\n\n\"We know that already, Archie,\" Emery said.\n\n\"Then act like you know it,\" the commander replied.\n\n* * *\n\nThe crew adapted quickly to the new watch schedule and life settled back into a predictable pattern. That was good and bad, Zinovy mused. Good that they moved on schedule again. Bad that the pattern once more included the gatherings around Eric's red book. Nothing, it seemed, could distract the book club members for long.\n\nIt had been two weeks since Zinovy had sat in on one of their sessions. Archie had gone to a few. He'd been as ineffective as Zinovy at changing anybody's mind, but the dissention in the group continued. There was still hope that the skeptics would win out in the end.\n\nTonight the company had gathered, as usual, before bedtime. They'd walked another six miles after supper, but they weren't yet eager for sleep. Archie was attending, but Zinovy decided to sit in, too. He approached quietly, found a spot near enough to listen without being intrusive, and watched the animated faces as they debated the topic of the day. The issue, it seemed, centered around a controversial sentence found somewhere near the middle of the book. Eric, once again, had his finger in the place, and was spouting off as Zinovy sat down.\n\n\"But that's what he says—right here in chapter fourteen.\" He opened the book, glanced down the page, and proceeded to read: \"Don't let this throw you. You trust God, don't you? Trust me. There is plenty of room for you in my Father's home.\"\n\nAlex interrupted Eric. \"Hold on. That's this Jesus person talking, isn't it? And the father he's talking about—that's God, right?\"\n\nEric nodded. \"All along in this book he's calling God his father. That's one thing that made the religious people so mad at him. They claimed he was calling himself God when he did that.\"\n\n\"Well doesn't he say he's God, later on? Or something to that effect?\"\n\n\"Well, wait a minute. Let me finish reading. We'll get to that part.\" Eric turned again to the book, found his place and continued: \"If that weren't so, would I have told you that I'm on my way to get a room ready for you?\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. If 'what' weren't so. I lost you there,\" said Emery.\n\nEric gave an exasperated sigh. \"He's saying that there's plenty of room for them in his father's house—that's heaven. Jesus is saying they should trust him. That there's room in heaven for them and he's going to come back and take them there some day, get it?\"\n\nEmery nodded and Eric went on. \"Let's see. Where was I? If you guys would quit interrupting we might get somewhere. Oh yes. Anyway, he says that they know the way to get to this place he's preparing, and they tell him, 'No, that's not true, we don't know,' and then he says, 'Yes, you do. I am the way.' Here, I'll read it to you.\" He turned the page and read: 'Jesus said, I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life. No one gets to the Father apart from me.'\"\n\n\"Hold on. Hold on. Whoa again.\" It was Graham this time. \"What does he mean saying no one gets to God without him? He can't mean no one, period. I mean, all the different people—different cultures all over the world. He didn't even know about all the people that existed at that time. There can't be only one way for all of them. This guy doesn't know what he's talking about. No one has a right to tell anyone else the way to God.\"\n\nA verbal brawl started then, everyone talking at once. Zinovy sat with arms folded, waiting for the din to subside. Graham had a point. It would be good if he could make it. Eventually order was restored, and the argument picked up where it had left off.\n\n\"I think we have to consider the source,\" Sara said. \"Just how reliable is it? How reliable is this man? We've already seen that he's a good man. And he's powerful. He's healed people. He's fed the masses with five loaves of bread. He's walked on water. He's even raised people from the dead, for God's sake. Those are pretty impressive credentials.\"\n\n\"Oh come on, Sara. All those things are what the book says he's done. Whoever was writing it was obviously a great fan of his. None of that is reliable. It's impossible—all those things. It's not how the world works.\"\n\n\"You know how the world works, do you, Graham?\" Sara tilted her head at him and scowled. Zinovy cringed. He knew that look. \"We thought we knew everything, back then in the good old days,\" she said. \"Science explained it all. But now look at us. We're still in that world, but everything's changed. Nothing fits our analysis any more. What makes you think we ever did know how things really worked?\"\n\nThey were quiet for a while. Finally Raheem spoke. \"Well, if this book is true—if it really is the Creator's communication to humans, like Eric has been trying to convince us—then it almost makes sense, what this man says. It would make sense that he could be the only way to get to God, if the book says so.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Simon asked.\n\n\"I mean, what makes us think we would get to choose how to find God, especially if we have blown it—if we have chosen to go our own way from him. Why should we be able to choose our own way back? He is the one who is offended. He is the one who can say how we need to make amends.\"\n\nAgain it was quiet. They were beginning to wear out.\n\nAfter a while, Ruben chimed in. \"I can see it, somehow. A bunch of puny humans strutting around on the earth, each one saying, 'I'll do it my way, thank you,' and the Creator looking down on them.\"\n\n\"Probably shaking his head,\" Eric said.\n\n\"Maybe he is laughing,\" Raheem said.\n\n\"I don't think so,\" said Sara.\n\n\"I don't think so either. This kind of God wouldn't have a sense of humor. The whole idea is preposterous.\" Archie had spoken at last. \"Any God who would insist on having his own way about how people get to heaven—that means if they don't do it his way they would go to the other place, right? Any God who would do that to even one of his creatures can't be good.\"\n\nSo they were back where they had started.\n\nNo, not all of them. As the others began to turn in for the night, Alex remained seated. Zinovy looked down at him. \"It's time to go to bed.\"\n\nAlex frowned. \"You know, Zinovy. I believe it,\" he said. \"I think it's true.\"\n\nZinovy paused. \"Why?\"\n\n\"I don't know. It just sounds right. No one could make up this good a lie. I mean a lie that makes things good, like this does.\"\n\n\"But that's just the thing. It only makes things good for people who conform—people who give up their own way and follow this teaching. What about others—ones who choose their own way? It's not good for them.\"\n\nAlex, still seated, gazed out across the compound toward the horizon, now glowing softly in the muted shades of the midnight air. \"Well, I don't know about the others,\" he said. \"But I think I've made my choice. I'm going to choose this way.\"\n\nHe gave Zinovy a wry grin. Then he reached a hand up. Zinovy grasped it, pulled the young man to his feet, and they walked off to their bedrolls.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY\n\nZinovy was grumpy. The constant worry about the possibility of another vandal attack was wearing on him, and the extra night watch duty didn't help either. He was sleep deprived and it showed in his attitude.\n\n\"I'm going to do some scouting,\" he announced to Eric after supper. \"You watch Sara and the boy.\" Then he tromped off, ruminating on their current situation as he went.\n\nIt galled him to know that the butcher knives were back in the hands of the vandals. That was a massive failure on their part—the losing of those knives. And it irritated him to think one of the men who had stolen the knives might have been the one Elan took captive after Sara's attack.\n\nZinovy still smarted from the tongue-lashing Elan had given him over the killing of the rapist. He couldn't get past his frustration with Elan's self-righteous attitude, and he still chafed at Elan's insistence that the man should have had a chance at redemption. Ridiculous. A man who would do such a thing did not deserve redemption. Redemption should be reserved for someone who had redeemable qualities—not a selfish beast who thought only of indulging his own animal passions.\n\nAt the edge of camp, he stopped and looked north, across a meadow of rose and lavender flowering shrubs that ended in a cluster of evergreen trees in the distance. His eye caught movement underneath the trees. He studied the scene, narrowing his eyes to extend their focal point, until a herd of antelope moved out from under the cover and wandered away to the east. Then he continued on his way, turning left about fifty meters from camp to begin a wide circuit around to the west. His thoughts returned to the vandal.\n\nZinovy had no patience with men ruled by their passions. He'd known many—had watched them either die violent deaths at an early age, or gradually waste away, slipping from pot to cocaine, from cat house to flop house, eventually hugging their vodka bottles and groaning out their last miserable hours alone in back rooms or back alleys. The irrationality of the waste disgusted him. It was unnecessary. He'd struggled with the booze, like everyone had, but he'd dealt with it.\n\nHis most difficult struggle for control, ironically, had involved the most normal and innocent activity—an activity his cousins had introduced into his life early on—something that had brought him comfort in the lonely days and weeks after his mother's death.\n\n\"Here Zinovy. Check this out. Did you ever see such knockers?\"\n\nHe remembered, now, when he'd begun to notice the porn was addictive. It was a gradual process—at first just a fleeting thought that interrupted his normal activities now and then. But before long the fantasies had become annoyingly intrusive. They started to pop up at awkward moments, like spam on his mental computer screen.\n\nThe issue finally came to a head during a class on military strategy, of all things. He'd been listening and taking notes—interested in the information, needing it to pass an upcoming exam—when his mind wandered off completely against his will. The next thing he knew the images were flashing before his eyes, one after the other, seductively sucking him into a kind of lethargy, a stupor that promised great delight, but would do nothing to help him pass his exam.\n\nHe pulled himself back to the lecture before he lost total control, but the incident was a wake-up call. The innocent distraction had become a dangerous enemy. He posted a sentry and began to fight one of the most intense battles of his military career.\n\nHe hadn't been a monk, of course. His sex life had included the usual variety of experiences, most of them the non-entangling kind. And except for occasional lapses—times when the Vodka got the better of him and his rational defenses were down—he'd chosen his establishments carefully.\n\nHe hadn't completely dismissed the pornographic fantasies, but he'd brought them under control, indulging only during his sexual exploits with real female bodies, using them as a tool to enhance his pleasure when the women he was with were less than satisfying. He remembered some of those fantasies as he walked through the fading radiance of the day.\n\nSomewhere along the way Zinovy became dimly aware of a presence walking by his side. The presence entered his thoughts, quietly, unobtrusively. Persistently, it wormed its way into the deeper places of his memories. The presence was incongruous—somehow out of place in this setting—but it walked on, matching Zinovy's stride, doggedly pursuing a companionship Zinovy did not relish.\n\nZinovy squirmed—thrashed around for a different kind of memory—but the images kept coming. Wave after wave of long legs, smooth thighs, rounded breasts splashed across the screen before him—all the pictures he'd ever viewed, the sensations he'd felt, the releases—moments of ecstasy.\n\nZinovy's steps quickened. So did those of the silent presence. The screen was much too public. Too many eyes were watching, but the images continued, uninhibited by the audience.\n\nZinovy remembered other eyes—those belonging to one of the girls. They were closed tightly. Her face had registered an irrepressible, almost tormented physical response. He couldn't help thinking that she didn't really need him. It had been a clinical observation on his part. He wasn't involved either, but he marveled at how desperate she seemed for the moment's release. When they were through she methodically gathered her things and left, without a word or a glance in his direction.\n\nThere were other eyes, also closed tightly, but in this case they masked a frightened denial. She was young, new to the profession, not the best lay of his life, but his passion had run high that night and he came away refreshed in spite of her tense unresponsiveness. He'd gotten his money's worth.\n\nAbruptly he remembered the one walking by his side. He stole a glance upward and was riveted by what he saw. The visage was shattered, marred almost beyond recognition, contorted with a pain that seemed beyond human endurance. Zinovy, caught off guard, could not drag his gaze away. The man's eyes were open, brimming with sorrow and anguish—the welled tears forming great, deep pools reflecting a terrible grief.\n\nReproach pierced Zinovy's heart as he recognized the presence. A few days before the brimming eyes had held tears for his pain.\n\nA trembling weakness consumed him and, as he looked, entranced, he saw another reflection within those aching pools of pain. It was not a beautiful picture. He recoiled from the sight, denying the meaning of the vision.\n\nAnd then another battle began. This time Zinovy was fighting for his life, his identity, his very soul. He would not accept the image in the stranger's eyes—he could not—yet the likeness was undeniable. The sexual images flashed through his memory again, only this time the bodies had faces. They all had eyes that were closed tightly, straining against the pain, and this time he recognized the features.\n\nThey all looked like Sara.\n\nThe ramparts of Zinovy's soul crumpled into fragments at his feet, stripped for the first time of all self-righteous defenses. He saw, in the stranger's eyes, himself—Zinovy Efimovich Kozlov—the vandal rapist.\n\nSomehow he managed to pull himself together—to stumble back to camp and find his bedroll. Somehow he slept. But changes needed to be made.\n\nThe next morning Zinovy had a talk with Archie.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy wasn't the only miserable pilgrim. Sara trudged along the trail beside Eric, who was, at that moment, trying to keep Caleb from darting off into the bushes after a strange animal with dubious pet qualifications.\n\n\"It looks like an aardvark, of all things,\" Eric exclaimed. \"They're from Africa too. How could all these animals have traveled so far, so fast?\"\n\nSara felt no need to answer him. He was talking to himself. He'd been doing a lot of that, maybe out of necessity. They'd walked together for three days now, and she'd probably said five sentences the whole time.\n\nEver since Archie had come to tell her that Eric would be responsible for her safety from now on—that Zinovy had duties elsewhere—she'd been out of sorts. She knew it hadn't been Archie's decision—that Archie was going along with the change in plans at Zinovy's insistence. She'd seen them arguing. Then she'd seen Archie go to Eric, seen Eric listen to what he had to say and nod his head. She knew what was going on. She just didn't know why.\n\nZinovy didn't even look at her anymore. When they passed each other in the camp he'd jerk away, looking like his shorts were too tight or something. At first it had hurt. Now it only made her mad. She didn't care, really. It was just rude of him to treat her that way.\n\n\"Caleb, no,\" Eric said to the boy bouncing up and down by his side. \"That animal's gone. You don't need another pet anyway. You've got Aslan.\"\n\nSara tried, once again, to remember anything she'd said or done that might have offended the sulking Russian, but she couldn't. The last time they'd talked he'd been quite civil and nothing had happened since then that could explain this change in his attitude.\n\nShe shook herself. It was better this way. Zinovy had always been a grump. And she liked Eric. He was easy to live with. She looked up and gave him a tentative smile. \"I haven't been much fun to walk with these past three days, have I?\" she began.\n\nEric grinned back down at her. \"Oh, you're just barrels of fun. I can't imagine how boring this walkabout would be without your constant earbashing.\"\n\nShe laughed, and they walked on in silence again. Finally Eric said, \"Would you care to tell big brother what's been going on in that little noggin of yours?\"\n\nShe longed to do just that, but the Zinovy topic was too sensitive. She could tell him about her other great angst—the deeper reason for her restless unhappiness. It was a safer topic—one he already knew something about.\n\nShe sighed and looked at the ground. \"Do you remember when I talked about my father, and how angry I was at him?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm still struggling with that whole forgiveness thing.\" She turned to face him. \"I know it's bad. I know I should let go. But, if I forgive him, it's like saying what he did was okay.\"\n\nThey walked in silence for a while. Then she went on. \"Did you know Elan once talked to me about this?\"\n\n\"No. Has Elan even been here since then? I can't remember seeing him.\"\n\n\"He came one night when I was feeling bad. It was late and I was the only one awake. Anyway, when I told him how I felt, he shook his head. He said that forgiveness doesn't negate the wrong—that my father would still have to face the consequences of what he'd done. But he said I had no right to deal with that. It was an issue between my father and God.\"\n\nShe looked up. \"Does that make sense to you?\"\n\nEric narrowed his eyes and gazed off into the distance. \"I think so. I can see how it would be hard to do, though. I mean, if you let go of the issue, there's no guarantee it would ever be resolved—that the other guy would get what's coming to him.\" He glanced down at her. \"So you could say that forgiveness is an act of faith, I guess.\"\n\nSara nodded. \"That's kind of how Elan put it. He said, 'When you forgive, you release the person who has wronged you into God's custody. You give up your right to justice and revenge. You entrust that right to God.'\" She stopped talking and they walked quietly for a while. \"He challenged me to do it—right then,\" she finally said. \"But I couldn't.\"\n\nSara was picturing that night, remembering how hard it had been for her to even consider giving up the anger. Elan had waited patiently for her to respond, reasoning with her ever so gently. \"In the process, Sara—in the process of giving up the anger—you become whole. The damage that has been done to you is healed.\"\n\nSara had bowed her head and Elan had watched her. She could feel the compassion in his eyes, creeping down over her neck and shoulders. Like a soft, warm blanket, it had wrapped itself around her cold heart. \"It's your choice, Sara. You can choose to act in faith or you can choose to continue to live in fear and anger and hatred.\"\n\n\"What if I can't do either?\" The words were muffled, spoken through the hands she had put to her face.\n\n\"Those are the only two options. If you don't choose the one, you will be choosing the other.\"\n\nHer tears had fallen to the ground, then. \"You don't know how hard it is. You don't understand,\" she'd said in a broken voice.\n\n\"I do understand, my dear. I've been there.\"\n\nEric broke into her story then. \"He said that? He said he'd 'been there'?\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\nEric frowned. Finally he said, \"Elan is a strange person. He talks like a human, but the way he comes and goes . . . . Maybe he's an angel or something.\"\n\nThe new topic of conversation drew Sara out of herself. She straightened her shoulders and they walked on, Eric matching his long stride to hers and the small gallop that was Caleb's. They talked about Elan and the mysteries of his comings and goings. Late that afternoon she realized she felt better. Nothing had been resolved, but talking with Eric had been good for her. She relaxed more when he was around. She had never been able to relax with Zinovy. He was just too dark—too difficult to figure out. She determined to enjoy these new arrangements.\n\n\"Speak of the devil!\" Eric's comment interrupted her thoughts once more. \"Here comes Elan now.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThe Insanity Club, as he had begun to call it, was meeting again. Zinovy leaned on a broad tree trunk near the center of camp and watched as they gathered by the riverbank.\n\nA week ago the crew had discovered a species of plant whose bushy stems formed a natural wattle. The bushes grew low to the ground, their networked branches curving into shallow buckets that extended up the center of each plant, making them perfect lounge chairs. Eric had chosen one of these clusters of bushes for their gathering.\n\nZinovy folded his arms and studied the young man as he settled down and pulled the red book from his pocket. Five boys sauntered over from the dish pit and one came from the latrine area. Mike was off preparing for the first watch of the night. Zinovy didn't know where Conrad was. Grace and Michelle were joining the group tonight, it seemed, and Sara, of course, was there.\n\nZinovy had avoided these meetings ever since his latest run-in with the stranger. He was too close to this one, but it was hard to retreat any great distance. They were deliberately making their campsites smaller these days. A sparse thicket grew on the opposite side of the clearing. He could at least go that far.\n\nAs he straightened to leave, his glance swept past Sara who was curling up in one of the bushes. In that brief moment she looked his way and her expression stiffened. He read the confusion in her eyes as she looked at him. He knew how she must be feeling, but he was helpless to do anything about it. Every vision of her—in the flesh or in his memory—brought a fresh flood of remorse—a fresh realization of the darkness in his past. He turned his back on her and walked away.\n\nBut there was to be no real escape, even then. As Zinovy hunched down in the trees along the northern boundary of the camp he discovered he had a companion.\n\nElan began without preamble, as was his habit. \"They're talking about the Passover story tonight—the one Sara told you a while back, remember?\"\n\nZinovy squinted up at his uninvited guest and scowled \"How did you know about . . . .\" The sentence went unfinished. Elan smiled. Zinovy frowned. \"It is not an amusement, this coming and going and interrupting and eavesdropping you do constantly.\"\n\n\"This is a transparent world you live in, Zinovy. Nothing is hidden. Except, of course, the things people hide from themselves. There are still those kinds of shadows and secrets.\"\n\nZinovy's scowl remained. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his face away from his companion. It was true. The light in this new world penetrated everything. The surroundings were spacious, but, oh, so close. Too close.\n\n\"Zinovy, forgive my intrusion. I know your desire for privacy. If you tell me to leave, I will go. But I want, first, to let you know there is an escape from the darkness that enshrouds you.\"\n\nElan waited. Zinovy felt his patient presence, soft as a quiet spring, gently expectant, like a dew-drenched meadow anticipating the coming of the morning sun. Gradually, only slightly against his will, Zinovy relaxed. He knew Elan would take his silence as consent, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to close this door.\n\n\"You can't go back, Zinovy,\" Elan said. \"You can't revise, or recreate the past, but it can be redeemed.\"\n\nStill Zinovy sat in silence—helpless, now, before the light that intruded into his soul. As he sat, his mind went back, once again, into his past. He saw his childhood—not just the pain, but his reactions to the pain. His anger. His hatred. His determined scrabbling for peace and pleasure at the expense of everything else—of everyone else in his life. His years in the military and beyond—his FSB activities —the heartless cruelty of his profession and the satisfaction it gave him to vent his spleen on human beings he didn't know and didn't care about. He saw the selfishness of his independence—his not caring—his lofty isolation from the rest of the world.\n\nThe light continued to probe—pressing into the dark places of his spirit, opening every sealed chamber, revealing, dispelling, then flooding each empty cavity with its warm brightness.\n\n\"How can this be?\" Zinovy finally asked, his voice a whisper. \"This redemption?\"\n\n\"The gift of redemption was made possible at great cost, Zinovy. It is freely offered to us, but it cost God his life.\"\n\n\"And it is free? It costs us nothing? That's not right.\"\n\nElan smiled. \"It is free,\" he repeated. \"But to receive the gift you will have to give up everything.\"\n\nZinovy gaped at Elan. \"Then it's not free.\"\n\nElan threw his head back and laughed—a deep, rich, rolling laugh that hit Zinovy like a slap in the face. He stared at the bright one, open-mouthed.\n\nThen Elan turned to him and his expression softened. \"It's a mystery, Zinovy—a mystery that you won't understand until you decide to accept it.\" Zinovy gazed back into those eyes, still shimmering with the afterglow of his laughter, and wilted. It was impossible to understand this man's philosophy.\n\nQuietly, Elan went on. \"Remember when I told your crew, in the beginning, that you needed to leave the place where you had landed? You asked me why, then, and I said I could not tell you. You had to make the choice to leave without knowing the whole. When you had made that choice, then you were ready to learn more.\" Elan waited until Zinovy nodded, half reluctantly, before he continued. \"So it is with this mystery,\" he said. \"You have to choose to receive the gift before you can understand it. When you decide to do that, the mystery will become clear—not to your head, but to your heart.\"\n\nAnd once more he was gone.\n\nZinovy sat still, stunned and silent, until gradually the sound of voices from across the camp drifted into his consciousness. Eric was speaking. \"That's an interesting story.\"\n\nThe familiar sound of Sara's voice came in reply: \"Jewish history is full of interesting stories. Myths, they're called. They're true stories—at least many of them are considered historical accounts—but they have metaphorical significance, especially to Jews. That story speaks to them of Yahweh's redemption—his salvation.\"\n\nRedemption. How strange. What did it mean? The question hung in the ribbons of light floating before his face like a wisp of smoke on an airless summer night. Zinovy dropped his head in his hands.\n\n* * *\n\nThat was how Sara found him.\n\nThe meeting had broken up, the participants headed off in various directions to grab some sleep. Sara, determined to bring an end to her misery, one way or another, plodded quietly over to Zinovy's retreat. She stood waiting for him to sense her presence and look up. When he did, she noticed the glistening of tears in his eyes.\n\nHe didn't even try to hide them from her. Instead he reached up and took her hand. Her heart softened. She stooped down and settled on the ground by his side.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Sara,\" he began. \"It wasn't you, you must realize. It was me only.\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" she said. \"You don't have to explain.\" She waited, sitting still beside him, savoring—wondering at the sweet warmth of his hand on hers. Finally she said, \"I just need to know—can we maybe be friends again?\"\n\nHe swallowed several times. She hurried on, suddenly shy, but wanting to finish what she'd come to say: \"I mean, we don't have to be together. I'd just be glad to know it was all right between us. It bothers me, somehow, if it isn't.\"\n\nZinovy looked at her, a gentle amazement in his eyes. Then he reached out his other hand, pulled her over, and gathered her into his arms. They sat together in the glowing twilight of the night, saying nothing, yet saying everything that needed to be said. Finally he released her and she stood up to go.\n\nThe next day nothing had changed. Sara still walked with Eric. Caleb chirped and galloped between them. Zinovy went about his business, never once touching her with his eyes, but she knew things were different. The distance between them was now filled with a quiet understanding. She sensed, in the soft lines of his face, that he shared the peace she felt, and she was content.\n\nBefore long they drifted together again, quite naturally. The little appendage, restless with the lengthy separation from his idol, kept lagging behind, pulling on Eric's hand, waiting for Zinovy to catch up. So the four of them walked together, Eric falling back slightly, leaving the other three to move ahead on their own.\n\n* * *\n\n\"All right. We've got to do something about this problem of no weapons. What are your ideas? Brainstorm with me.\"\n\nThey'd stopped early for the night and Archie had called a meeting. Now he looked around at the group. Dull faces stared back at him. He waited a minute, then tried again.\n\n\"Think, people. Let's start by looking at our resources. What do we have to work with?\" The dull looks remained.\n\nFinally, Simon volunteered. \"We've got plants.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Emery chimed in. \"We could hit the attackers with leaves.\" The boys laughed.\n\nArchie looked at Zinovy, as if to say, \"Help me here.\" Zinovy shrugged and Archie went on: \"This is serious, guys. We're talking about people who steal, who rape, who kill for no reason. And they have knives.\" He looked around again. \"We have no idea how many of them there are, or where they are. They obviously know where we are. We're sitting ducks. We need some kind of defense system in place.\"\n\n\"We've got scouts, and the night guard duty.\"\n\n\"Yes, and what would you do, Graham, if you were on duty and someone snuck up on you?\"\n\nGraham frowned.\n\n\"Is there a cooking utensil we could use?\" Raheem asked.\n\n\"We have a paring knife. That's all,\" Ruben said. \"And it's pretty dull.\"\n\n\"Is it sharp enough to cut down a small tree?\" Emery asked. Ruben laughed again. \"I'm serious, man. I've been thinking about what Simon said about using the plants. It's not all leaves, you know. Remember the ironwood we used to make the wheels for the cart?\"\n\n\"What's your idea?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"Well, what if we cut down some small trees and shape the trunks into clubs or something?\"\n\n\"Or even large branches,\" said Simon, picking up on the thought. \"There are some oak trees around with branches that might be the right size.\"\n\n\"Oak's too hard. The knife would never do it.\"\n\n\"Well then a softer wood, maybe, like . . . what's a softer wood, Charles? You know about this kind of thing.\"\n\nCarter had been sitting back, frowning. Now he leaned forward and said, \"The whole idea is stupid. It would take forever to cut a big enough branch with that paring knife. We don't have forever.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Charles,\" Archie said. \"It's worth a try. We don't have many other options that I can see.\"\n\nNo one had a better idea. After a few announcements and the posting of the next week's scouting roster, the meeting adjourned and the boys went off to find a tree they could carve with the paring knife. Zinovy said nothing, but he was as skeptical as Carter. They were grasping at straws. Literally.\n\nArchie pulled him aside. \"I know it's not much, Zinovy, but we've got to have something.\" He stopped and pounded his fist into a nearby tree trunk. \"Damn, it's so frustrating. We have nothing to fight with. We have no place to hide. We're totally vulnerable. I hate this.\"\n\nZinovy couldn't argue with him. \"That's true. We're out of options again. So what's new? We're back where we started.\"\n\nBefore long three of the boys came back on the run. \"We've got it,\" Simon shouted across the field. \"Where's the paring knife? Alex wants it right away. We're going to work at it in turns.\"\n\nSimon and Ruben went off to the mess kit for the knife and Conrad took Archie and Zinovy to the tree they'd found.\n\n\"Look at this one,\" Emery said. \"It's heavy, see.\" He hefted a branch growing out from a small tree with yellow bark. \"And it's not too hard, either. You can gouge the bark with your fingernail. See there?\"\n\nThe boys went at it. It took them two hours, working in turn. The wood was more resistant than they had supposed, but eventually they had a piece of branch about two feet long and roughly five inches in diameter at the base. They came running to Archie, waving the crude weapon in the air.\n\n\"It would make a good bat, too, if we could just come up with a decent baseball,\" Mike said.\n\n\"It's a weapon,\" Archie reminded them. He ran his hand over the smooth bark. \"What do you think, Zinovy? It's got pretty good weight and balance.\"\n\n\"This knob on the side should go. But otherwise it's okay I think.\"\n\nGraham and Alex were already at work on the second branch. Before bedtime the boys had carved another reasonably well-shaped club. And so their arsenal grew.\n\nThe boys had worked hard. They fell into their beds exhausted. Three hours later they were dying.\n\n\"Zinovy.\" Alex groaned. \"Zinovy, wake up.\"\n\n\"Huh?\" Zinovy grunted, pulling himself out of a deep sleep, the urgency of Alex's hand on his arm only gradually registering. When it did register, he was bolt upright, holding onto the boy bent double at his feet. Alex was retching and even in the soft light Zinovy could see there was blood in the vomit. Controlling a strong urge to add to the mess on the ground, Zinovy lifted him to his feet.\n\n\"Archie,\" he shouted. \"Get over here. We have troubles.\"\n\nThe whole crew came awake then. Zinovy handed Alex over to Eric and ran to the other side of camp where the rest of the boys lay sprawled on the ground. Most had managed to climb out of their bedrolls before the sickness hit them, but some lay wrapped in their beds, doused in the bloody remains of their supper.\n\nZinovy looked up and found Sara at his elbow. \"Quick,\" he said. \"We need the water.\"\n\nZinovy whirled and found Charles lumbering over to find out what all the commotion was about. Charles took one look at the mess on the ground and headed to the cache for a container. Grace and Mark joined the brigade and soon they were back with jugs of the sparkling liquid. \"Here, give me that,\" Zinovy said to Grace. He grabbed the first container and dumped it on Mike who lay groaning at his feet. \"Take one over to Alex. Now.\"\n\nWithin a few minutes they'd applied the remedy, but it was hours before the boys were quiet and comfortable enough to sleep. When the crew finally settled, Archie and Zinovy discussed the situation.\n\n\"What was that all about?\" Archie said.\n\nZinovy frowned. \"It's the same as before, but this time it's worse. The wood they cut had the sickness in it.\"\n\n\"The wood is not sick.\"\n\nBoth Zinovy and Archie jumped at the sound of Elan's voice.\n\n\"It's you,\" Archie said. \"Why are you always showing up just after we need you?\" His tone was caustic. It had been a long night. \"What do you mean it isn't the wood?\"\n\n\"The wood is not the problem. The use you are putting it to is the problem.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You were forming weapons, right?\"\n\n\"Of course. If you'd been around you'd realize we need some. They got our knives the other night. Stole them right from under our noses. We're in real trouble here, Elan.\"\n\n\"I know that. But the biggest part of your trouble right now is those tree branches you're planning to use as weapons. They will continue to poison you if you don't get rid of them.\"\n\n\"What!\" Zinovy watched the color come up the back of Archie's neck. He'd never seen the commander so angry. \"Get rid of them? You're crazy.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Elan said. \"It's your choice, but the poison is coming from those trees and as long as you intend to use them as weapons you'll continue to be sick.\"\n\nZinovy stared at Elan. \"Do you mean if we were going to use them other ways they wouldn't hurt us?\"\n\n\"I told you in the beginning. You may use the plant life as you please for things you need. That does not include weaponry. Weapons are not a necessity in this world.\"\n\nArchie exploded then. The expletives he used shocked even Zinovy. When he finally became coherent, he gave Elan a dressing down that could have melted steel. The most rational thing he said was his parting shot: \"You can't tell me that wood is only poison if it's used for defense. Trees don't have the sense to know what they're being cut for. This whole idea is preposterous.\"\n\nElan waited quietly through the harangue. When Archie stopped shouting and stood there, breathing hard, he spoke again. \"I told you before, this world is not the same as the old one. Your old ways of understanding nature will not work here. Of course trees don't know, in the sense that we know things. But there are many kinds of 'knowing.' The world around you can read your spirit. What you do and how you think impacts the whole of creation, just as before. But nature has now been redeemed, and if you use the wood for harmful purposes—\"\n\nArchie interrupted. \"Harmful purposes! I'm trying to defend this group of people from harmful purposes. What would you have me do?\"\n\n\"As I was saying,\" Elan continued, \"If you use the wood for harmful purposes it will destroy you in the long run.\"\n\nArchie stiffened and put his hands on his hips. Then he bellowed, \"I can't afford to worry about 'the long run'. We won't get to 'the long run' if we don't live through the short run. Survival's at the top of my list right now, Mister. And if you don't have any better advice, you can go to—\"\n\nHe stopped there. His audience had disappeared. Archie looked at Zinovy and shook his head. \"I've about had it,\" he said.\n\n\"I noticed.\"\n\n\"Let's get back to bed. We won't be able to travel today. We'll rest and see how the boys are by tonight.\"\n\nSo, as the day began to lighten, they crawled into their bedrolls and slept.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-ONE\n\nIt was midday before anyone stirred.\n\nZinovy woke to the patter of Caleb's little feet. He groaned, turned over and pulled the blanket over his head, but the boy persisted. \"It's time for breakfast, Novy.\"\n\nZinovy groaned again. His stomach was not comfortable. \"I don't want breakfast, Caleb. You go find something. Where's Sara? Go get her to help you.\"\n\nThe little one ran off and Zinovy slept for another hour. When he woke his stomach felt better. He got up, went to the river, splashed water into his red-rimmed eyes, and came back to find Archie. The commander stood at the edge of the compound talking to several of the boys. They looked somewhat bedraggled, but at least they were on their feet. The two clubs they'd made lay on the ground beside them.\n\n\"What do you think, Zinovy?\" Archie asked as he came up. \"Who gets the clubs?\"\n\n\"They're heavy. They should go to the strongest. I say, Alex and Conrad. Or, no, maybe Eric and Conrad.\"\n\nThey stood looking down at their arsenal. Archie stooped and picked up the smaller of the two. Zinovy grabbed the large one, moving his hands up and down the narrow end, testing the balance. His stomach knotted painfully and he belched.\n\nEric came up to them, grinning. \"You two look like a couple of cavemen.\"\n\nArchie glared at him, but the boy was incorrigible. \"Harump, harump,\" he chortled, bouncing up and down and scratching his sides.\n\nZinovy made as if to take a swing at him and Eric ducked, still grinning, and headed off to pack up his bedroll.\n\n\"Wait,\" Archie called after him. \"You take one of these.\"\n\n\"I don't want one. Let Graham have it. He's got less to carry.\" And Eric was off again.\n\nArchie shook his head. \"I can't understand it. It's like pulling teeth to get these men in some kind of defensive position. They should all be making their own clubs.\" He turned to Zinovy. \"Try and get rid of these things, will you? Give them to anyone who'll take them.\"\n\nGraham and Conrad took the weapons. \"You two head out first,\" Archie said. \"And set a quick pace. Half the day is gone.\"\n\nThe pace was set. The crew fell in line. But in the late afternoon the pacesetters began to lag. First one, then the other stood aside to let the rest of the group move forward. Zinovy turned around to check on them when their labored breathing no longer warmed the back of his neck. He took one look, then called ahead to Archie.\n\n\"Hold it. We have problems again.\"\n\nThe two arms-bearers stood holding their stomachs. Conrad turned to vomit into a bush while Graham watched, his face green. Their weapons lay at their feet. Zinovy studied the clubs.\n\n\"This isn't going to work,\" he said as Archie came up. \"We've got to dispose of the clubs.\"\n\nArchie swore. He put his hands on his hips and studied the two green faces before him. \"Are you sure it's not something you've eaten?\"\n\nGraham shook his head. \"We're not eating anything different. It's this wood. I felt the weakness moving up my arm while we were walking.\" He picked up his club, groaned, and threw it into the shrubbery.\n\nThe others stood watching as Conrad's stomach turned inside out again. Zinovy picked up the other weapon and carried it off into the trees. When he returned, Archie said, \"All right. Let's get out of here. Are you two fit to travel?\"\n\nThey nodded. \"The farther away we get from those things the better I'll feel,\" Graham said.\n\nArchie waited until the others had gone ahead, then fell in beside Zinovy. \"Damn. What a waste. And I'd wanted to make good time today. I don't know why, but I feel like we're running from something evil.\"\n\n\"I hope so,\" Zinovy said.\n\nArchie looked at him sharply and Zinovy shrugged. \"I'd rather have it behind us than ahead of us.\"\n\n* * *\n\nRest day. The term had taken on new meaning to Zinovy. Rest had seeped into his spirit during the past five days. He'd never felt more at peace.\n\nThe revelations amazed him—revelations to his heart, he realized, not his head. His mind was no more enlightened than ever, but somehow that didn't matter. Somewhere deep inside him something significant was happening.\n\nGradually he became aware of a presence in that deep place—a living, breathing presence—full of light—full of life. He began to suspect it had been there all along, but he hadn't noticed. It was as if, for the first time, he was coming to know himself—to discover who he really was.\n\nHis concern about the dangers that surrounded them remained, but even that did not extend farther than reasonable precautions. He wandered absently along a natural trail—a small break in the vegetation that led away from the camp—away from the river—gauging the distance so as not to get completely out of sight of the others.\n\nEveryone else was down by the river. It had been seventy-five days since they'd discovered the water and their fascination hadn't dimmed. They still gravitated there whenever they were allowed to linger on their journey.\n\nZinovy was not so drawn, and today he felt like being alone. He stopped and looked around for a place to sit. Nearby was a sprawling fig tree—as good a spot as any. He sat down, leaned back against the smooth bark of the tree, and opened the little red book.\n\nEric's wheedling had finally worn him down. \"Look,\" he'd said the day before. \"Why can't you at least try it? It's not dangerous. It's as much a classic as Plato, if you want to look at it that way. I really would like to know what you think about it all.\"\n\nWhen that appeal to his ego had not worked, Eric played his trump card: \"You keep saying you don't believe all this stuff. Well, what stuff, Mate? How can you say you don't believe something you know nothing about?\"\n\nZinovy sighed, now, and glanced at the title of the book on the first page. The Message: The Gospel of John in Contemporary Language. There was some kind of an introduction. He scratched his back against the trunk and began to read:\n\n\"In deliberate parallel to the opening words of Genesis, John presents God as speaking salvation into existence. This time God's word takes on human form and enters history in the person of Jesus. Jesus speaks the word and it happens: forgiveness and judgment, healing and illumination, mercy and grace, joy and love, freedom and resurrection. Everything broken and fallen, sinful and diseased, called into salvation by God's spoken word.\"\n\nZinovy stopped reading. These words were not strange to him. Many of them had surfaced in recent conversations with Elan or Sara.\n\nHe turned to the book again. Two poems introduced the main body of the text. The first was a mystery. He skimmed through it and moved on to the second. He was three lines into it when he slowly straightened, his eyes riveted to the words on the page before him.\n\nThe Life-Light was the real thing:\n\nEvery person entering Life he brings into Light.\n\nHe was in the world, the world was there through him,\n\nand yet the world didn't even notice.\n\nHe came to his own people, but they didn't want him.\n\nBut whoever did want him,\n\nwho believed he was who he claimed and would do what he said,\n\nHe made to be their true selves, their child-of-God selves.\n\nThese are the God-begotten,\n\nnot blood-begotten,\n\nnot flesh-begotten,\n\nnot sex-begotten.\n\nThe Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.\n\nWe saw the glory with our own eyes,\n\nthe one-of-a-kind glory,\n\nlike Father, like Son,\n\nGenerous inside and out, true from start to finish.\n\nZinovy sat, stunned, staring at the book in his hand. The words made no sense to his rational mind, but a thread of truth ran through them—a silver thread that moved in and out of the fabric of all they'd been talking about—all they'd been experiencing on this journey. Life, light, truth, glory—the words saturated the air they breathed.\n\nZinovy felt the flesh creep on the back of his neck, but that was only the beginning. There, farther down—the Passover Lamb, of all things:\n\n\"Here he is, God's Passover Lamb! He forgives the sins of the world!\"\n\nZinovy turned the page and read on. There is a man. His name is Nathaniel. Someone is bringing him to meet this Lamb person. The man is skeptical. \"You've got to be kidding,\" he says when they urge him to come. But he gets there and the man greets him: \"One day, long before Philip called you here, I saw you under the fig tree.\"\n\nZinovy sprang to his feet, turned around, and scrutinized the tree he'd been leaning against. He peeked over his shoulder, chagrined. Finally he sat down again, drawn back to the words of the book.\n\nHe didn't know where his reading left off and the vision began. He saw the man hanging on a rough wooden cross, the man who had been called God's 'Passover Lamb' at the beginning of the book. The 'Lamb' was hanging by his wrists.\n\nHe was fastened to the cross by large metal spikes that had been driven through the arms at the base of the hands, where they would hook on the bones, preventing the flesh from ripping further and the body from falling.\n\nA small wooden platform about sixty inches above the base of the upright beam supported the feet, which were crossed at the ankle and secured with one large metal spike that had been driven through them both.\n\nThe man was nearly naked. Zinovy could see the skeleton of the ribs standing out from the quivering flesh. The joints connecting the limbs were enlarged and grotesquely twisted, the bones pulled out of their sockets by the weight of the body as the cross had been dropped into its seating in the hard ground. The head was bowed over the chest. A crown of twigs circled the brow. Large thorns protruded from the wreath, the ones on the inside pushing into the scalp.\n\nBut the most mesmerizing sight to Zinovy was the blood. Bright red and dripping, it was everywhere. It percolated around the spikes in the wrists and the feet, dropping below to form dark pools on the ground. It trickled from jagged punctures on breast and abdomen where lashes from a cat-o-nine-tails had left the marks of a recent beating. It seeped from the head wounds, coming from behind the thorns, running down the face in rivulets, dropping from the chin onto the heaving chest below.\n\nThe man was innocent. According to the book, he had miraculously healed the sick, opened the eyes of the blind and brought dead people back to life. He had scolded the religious leaders, and spoken gently to the poor and the weak. He had told his followers that the Creator loved them, and that love was the most important thing.\n\nAnd now he was dying, almost gone, nailed to a cross by men who stood below mocking him, gambling to see who would win the robe they'd taken from his body before they impaled it.\n\nZinovy closed his eyes, shutting out the sight, but the blood remained. It seeped into his memory and mingled with the blood on the path he'd stumbled over after his mother's death. It mingled with the innocent blood of baby chicks, of a woman and her dead baby, of the dead lions.\n\nHe opened his eyes once more and, for the first time, he looked into the face of the man on the cross. Into those other eyes. Anguished, yet piercing, they returned his look. Sheer agony was reflected in every drop of blood and sweat that dripped from his chin.\n\nBut it was something else that horrified Zinovy. In that brief instant he recognized the face. Again, it was the face of the stranger; a face streaked with tears at Zinovy's grief over the memory of his mother; a face distorted in anguish at the memory of the girls Zinovy had taken; a face—now he remembered—a face from long ago, that had looked on him over his mother's shoulder as she explained the meaning of his name.\n\nNow that face was distorted, not from the pain of the torn flesh of his hands and his feet, or the rough wood against the lacerated back. Zinovy knew the look of physical pain on a human face and this was not it. And not from fear either. Zinovy knew that look as well. The eyes were filled, instead, with a grief that went clear to the man's soul. Something like horror, a deep revulsion, drew ragged lines around the mouth.\n\nA heartbroken resignation, a resolute determination, and a deep, deep loneliness pierced straight as a sword into Zinovy's own soul, because he had seen that look before.\n\nHe had caused that look.\n\nZinovy's heart melted. It ran onto the ground before him, mingled with the blood from the cross, and was lost in the dark pools of the dying man's sorrow.\n\nEventually Zinovy came to himself. He struggled to his feet and plodded back to camp. Archie came to meet him. Zinovy grimaced. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. \"Zinovy,\" Archie began. \"I've been looking for you. I wish you'd tell me when you're going off somewhere.\"\n\n\"It's rest day, Archie. I was resting.\"\n\n\"That's all well and good, but we need to keep alert, even on rest days. You know that.\" Archie put his hands on his hips and frowned. \"I don't know what's gotten into you, but I'm worried. You're getting too relaxed. You're losing your edge. I need your help on this trip, but I'm feeling more and more like I'm going it alone.\"\n\nZinovy said nothing. Archie looked down at the book in Zinovy's hands and swore. \"It doesn't have anything to do with this religious business, does it? You're not getting soft in that regard, are you?\"\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"I'm thinking about it,\" he admitted. \"Don't you ever think about it?\"\n\n\"No, I don't. I'm too busy to think about such things right now.\" Zinovy caught the reproach in Archie's voice. \"I'm doing my duty, Zinovy. If there is a God, I'm sure that's what he, or she, expects of me.\"\n\n\"But what if doing your duty isn't enough? What if there's more, like moral issues? Don't you ever feel the need for forgiveness?\"\n\n\"No, Zinovy, I don't feel the need for forgiveness. That whole business about some god/man dying in my place to atone for the 'evil' in my life—that's just plain wrong. It's too easy. We're all responsible for our own actions.\"\n\nAlex came up then. \"Archie, do you know where Conrad is? I've been looking for him, but he's not here.\"\n\n\"Damn it,\" Archie said. \"I wish people would quit wandering off. No, I don't know where he is. No one checks in with me about anything any more. Go find him and tell him I want to talk to him, too.\"\n\nAlex trotted off and Archie turned back to Zinovy. His voice softened. \"I have a moral code, my friend. All my life I've worked to live up to it. I've managed to do a pretty good job without outside help so far, and I intend to persist in doing it. Maybe once we get to the city I'll have time to think about other things, but right now my code requires that I do my duty by the Gaia crew. I would appreciate it if your code required you to help me.\"\n\nHe turned and walked away. Zinovy watched him go. The rest day was half over and Zinovy did not feel rested.\n\n* * *\n\n\"Aslan, come back,\" Caleb called as the young lion bounded across the meadow.\n\nZinovy, Sara and Caleb had just come around a cluster of Bay Laurel trees into a clearing and found the place teeming with animal life. They paused. Zinovy surveyed the scene, looking for possible danger. Aslan paused with them for a moment and then headed off at a gallop toward a handsome pair of lions grazing on a clump of grass at the far end of the clearing. Caleb started after him, but Zinovy held him back.\n\nAslan was halfway there when the female raised her head and looked across the remaining distance between them. She seemed to consider for a moment, then, without haste, she rose to her feet and began moving toward the cub. Caleb stiffened under Zinovy's hand.\n\n\"Sara, will she hurt him?\" the boy asked, fixing anxious eyes on the large lion.\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\nAs he drew near the lioness, Aslan slowed to a trot, then to a walk, covering the last ten feet one step at a time, head down, nose extended, sniffing out his welcome. The large cat stood, eyes on the intruder, waiting, until finally they were almost nose to nose. Aslan paused, mimicking the other lion's stance. Zinovy held his breath. Then the large cat leaned down, touched the small cub with her nose, and started licking around his ears.\n\nAll three of Aslan's human companions relaxed with a sigh. Caleb chuckled as the two began to play. The older lion nudged the cub, tumbling him onto his back, and nuzzled his neck.\n\nSara laughed. \"It looks like they're going to have a tickle fight, doesn't it?\"\n\nAslan and his new friend ambled over to the male lion who had been watching the two frolic, occasionally licking his lips and twitching his tail, but otherwise content to remain a spectator. The three travelers watched the three animals for a while, then Caleb called again across the meadow, \"Aslan, come back. It's time to go now.\"\n\nAslan, lost in the joy of the moment, ignored Caleb's plea, continuing to frolic in and out between the legs of the lioness as she meandered through the lush grass, pulling tufts of the tender blades and chewing contentedly. They made a handsome pride.\n\nCaleb shrugged out from under Zinovy's hand and looked up at Sara. \"Will he come back?\" he asked, his voice strained.\n\n\"I don't know, Caleb. We'll have to wait and see.\"\n\n\"But I want him to come back. He belongs to me.\" This time Caleb's voice trembled. \"Doesn't he remember me anymore?\"\n\n\"I'm sure he does.\" Sara looked at the boy for a minute, then she knelt beside him. \"But Caleb, you have to realize, he's a lion. He's with his own kind now, and he may decide he wants to stay.\"\n\nTears welled in Caleb's eyes as he watched his young playmate move up behind the male and bat playfully at his tail. \"But I'm his own kind too,\" he reasoned. \"We have fun together too. I don't want him to leave me.\"\n\nThe tears spilled over. Sara put her arms around him, holding him close, and then, as the tears became a torrent, she drew him into her lap. \"Caleb, you have to think of what is best for Aslan—what will make him happiest. Would you want him to stay with you if he wanted to be with them? If it would make him sad to leave them?\"\n\n\"Yes . . . I mean, no. I guess not. Not if he wouldn't be happy.\" Zinovy studied the boy's face as the emotions struggled there. \"But I want him to be happy with me.\"\n\nSara smiled. \"I know. I want that too. But we have to let him choose. If he comes back, you'll know he wants to be here. If he doesn't, you need to let him go. You can't hold onto someone you love. If you really love him you have to let him choose.\"\n\nAt that the boy's face crumpled. He wrenched away from Sara, flung himself onto the ground and flailed the grass. \"Why do I have to lose him? I'm losing everyone. It's not fair,\" he wailed.\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows. So the boy's grief for his parents still raged. Sara looked up, a question in her eyes. Zinovy shrugged. The loss of the lion would be hard on the boy. Maybe it had been wrong to bring the cub back in the first place. He gazed across the meadow.\n\nThe relief he felt at what he saw surprised him. The cub galloped toward them, over halfway there and obviously planning to come all the way. In another minute he was beside Caleb, nuzzling the wet cheek buried in the grass and pawing the boy's shoulder.\n\nCaleb let out a low cry and scrambled to his knees. His arms went round the lion, locking him in a viselike grip. The cub squealed and Caleb adjusted his hold. Then he struggled to his feet, wiped his tears on the lion's back, and strode off.\n\nZinovy saw the small shoulders raise in a long, shuddering sigh. Then he and Sara fell in behind the marching child, who seemed determined to put distance between his young friend and the temptation of the wilderness as quickly as possible. The child was vulnerable. Perhaps he should spend more time with him.\n\nThey soon caught up with the rest of the crew who had stopped early again for the evening. \"Where were you?\" Archie asked when they walked into the compound. \"I almost sent Graham back to find you. We need to keep together.\"\n\nZinovy explained. Archie nodded. \"I hope the cub doesn't prove to be a hindrance.\"\n\n\"I'll see to the child and the lion,\" Zinovy said. \"We won't have problems again.\"\n\n* * *\n\n\"Sara, help me,\" Caleb wailed between frantic gasps and giggles.\n\n\"I can't. He's bigger than me.\"\n\nZinovy winked at her over the boy's shoulder, then set himself to the task of losing a wrestling match between two unequally equipped contestants. He rolled on the ground, barely managing to restrain the wild movements of the tiny boy, pinning both his arms with one large hand, groping for his feet with the other. And as he rolled, Zinovy watched Sara out of the corner of his eye. He knew her well by now. In spite of her disclaimer, she was considering how she might help the boy.\n\nHe enjoyed watching her mind work. She would know that conquering him was out of the question, but he could tell by the upward tilt of her chin that the temptation at least to annoy him a little was becoming irresistible.\n\nCaleb supplied her with the idea. \"Tickle him! Tickle him!\" he cried, breathless with laughter.\n\nZinovy covertly watched her move one way and then the other, considering the logistics. She must have decided an approach from behind would be most effective. Zinovy, determined to make it as difficult as possible, rolled over, placing Caleb's body between them. Undeterred, she tensed her body, looking much like Aslan in stalking mode, watched for a break in the defenses and finally hurdled into the fray.\n\nThe three of them soon became a tangle of awkward limbs and protruding body parts. A small hand grasping onto a shirtsleeve here, a slim arm flung out from between stubby chin and muscular shoulder, one small leg wrapped determinedly around another large knee. Grunts and groans accompanied the exercise, punctuated by the boy's gleeful squeals and the large man's occasional pleas for mercy. Sara's constant low giggle gradually became the overriding sound in Zinovy's ears. It was a good sound.\n\nIt occurred to Zinovy that this contest might not end until the other two believed they had won. He considered, in a leisurely fashion, how he might bring that victory about for them. Meanwhile, the battlefield had been moving closer to the river's embankment. One more thrust of the girl's right hand toward his ear, and another of the boy's kicks to the shin sent them all three tumbling over the edge. They flailed in the air for a moment, then hit the water with a satisfyingly large splash.\n\nSara laughed triumphantly. Caleb giggled, happy to have his large playmate in the water with him at last, and with an easy acquiescence that surprised them all, Zinovy acceded the victory to them both. He and Caleb cavorted in the liquid brightness until the boy was exhausted. Then Sara retrieved him from Zinovy's arms, and led him off to dry in the warm air under the apple tree.\n\nAs she leaned over to collect the laughing boy, her hair brushed Zinovy's cheek. Instantly, his loins stiffened, and horror engulfed him.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy swam furiously upriver for half an hour. The exercise didn't help. The sparkling water caressed his body, only strengthening the yearning her nearness had aroused. Remorse bombarded his heart. How could he think of her that way? She was a child—an innocent child.\n\nHe thought of the evil in the vandal rapist. He thought of the evil in himself, still there after all his remorse, his resolve and his firm control. He struggled on, his arms thrashing the water, his legs pounding through the current.\n\nThe events of the last few weeks rolled over his mind like the waves of the river water. So much had happened. He wrestled with the dichotomy between justice and mercy. He was a wretched man. He deserved judgment. Yet he longed for the kind of mercy he'd seen reflected in the eyes of the one on the cross.\n\nFinally Zinovy's tension eased and he slowed down. The current was stronger here. The water was deeper. He dipped his head and dove into the cooler recesses of the stream. The river washed over him, under him, around him, enveloping his body in its refreshing cleanness.\n\n\"If you choose, you can be cleansed by the blood of the lamb,\" Elan had said to him. It didn't make sense. Blood was not for cleansing. Inside the body, yes. Blood was good. But outside, blood was dirty—polluted, full of contaminants.\n\nWithout warning, the river became blood. Zinovy saw the pink tinge of the water turn to rose, then crimson. He felt the waves thicken around him. The blood oozed over his body, first boiling, then bubbling into a froth as he thrashed out in horror. He recoiled against the feel of it on his skin, in his eyes, in his hair.\n\nThen, in a flash, Zinovy saw it all clearly. Blood belongs inside the body. The Creator had intended it remain there. But rebellion had changed all that. Rebellion had made the shedding of blood necessary.\n\nThe anguish in the eyes of the one dying on the cross—the horror—Zinovy saw it all now. The man had been swimming in dirty blood, so out of his element—he who was the life, had drowned in death. A bloody evil had done it to him, and because of a bloody evil he had allowed it to happen.\n\nJust as suddenly, the blood was gone. Cool, clear water washed over Zinovy once more. He dove into the current, pushing his way down until he could see the pebbles on the bottom of the riverbed. He came up spitting and sputtering into the face of the one who had hung on the cross.\n\nHe clambered onto the riverbank. Water dripped from his hair, his eyelashes and his clothing, but he ignored it. His eyes were fixed on the man before him.\n\n\"So you discovered that blood is evil out of its place.\" The man studied Zinovy's face, looking for comprehension. Then he went on, \"It's the same with freedom, you see. In the veins of the Creator's purpose, freedom is wholesome, life-giving. But when humans choose to remove themselves from the purposes of the Creator, they slash their wrists and their freedom becomes a flood of death.\"\n\nZinovy stood still, listening intently.\n\nThe bright one went on, speaking quietly now. \"Your plunge into the blood, Zinovy—so it was with me. I dove to the bottom of the fetid pool. I pulled the plug on the evil so that all that is ugly could drain away.\"\n\n\"Is it almost gone?\" Zinovy asked.\n\n\"It is finished,\" the one with the scars replied.\n\nZinovy bowed his head. The brightness of the revelation was too much for him. He couldn't look. But the man spoke again.\n\n\"I did it for you.\"\n\nZinovy nodded without raising his head. Tears stung his eyelids. Something was happening inside him. A door opened deep in his soul.\n\nThe man with the scars touched the door. He knocked on it. \"I've walked beside you all your life, even when you didn't know. But I want to be closer to you even than that.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I'm knocking at the door of your heart, Zinovy. Will you let me in?\"\n\nZinovy looked up at last. \"But how is that possible? I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Your heart understands, my friend, doesn't it?\"\n\nThe stranger was right. Deep inside his being he knew that something he'd wanted all his life—something that would fill the yawning chasm—was standing before him.\n\n\"How?\" he began.\n\n\"I want you to give me your hands, Zinovy.\"\n\n\"My what?\"\n\n\"Your hands. I gave you mine. I want you to give me yours.\"\n\nZinovy was confused again. \"But I can't. I can't cut them off and give them to you.\"\n\nThe stranger smiled. \"I want them attached.\"\n\nZinovy considered. Giving his hands would mean they were no longer his; they would belong to another. It would mean he could never take another person's life into his hands, for good or for ill, without considering the wishes of the one who had created them all.\n\n\"I think I can do that.\" He hesitated. \"With one proviso.\"\n\nThe scarred man shook his head. \"No provisos.\"\n\nZinvoy saw understanding in the deep brown eyes, but they did not yield.\n\nZinovy moaned. \"It's not right. It's not fair to the woman and her child.\"\n\n\"There can be no exceptions, Zinovy. You either trust me or you don't.\" The eyes probed, gently, persistently demanding. \"You must complete this journey.\"\n\nA long minute passed. Finally Zinovy raised his head and sighed.\n\nThe stranger reached out. His sleeves fell back and there, in his writsts, Zinovy saw the deep, jagged-edged cavities where the nails had gone. The beauty of the strong wrists was violated by the ugliness of the scars, yet, somehow, the scars belonged.\n\nZinovy remembered the words of the red book. This man had been led willingly to his own execution. The wrists had received the nails without hesitation. The strong hands had hung, limp and useless, from the cross, with no flicker of resistance.\n\nSlowly, but without hesitation, Zinovy lifted his own hands and placed them in the open palms before him.\n\nThe fire burned, hot and hard, and the last rigid knot in Zinovy's gut melted and drained away. The tears pressed harder against his eyelids. He let them fall on the hands that were holding his, on the scars. They were tears of honest weakness—of joyful resignation. Zinovy had surrendered, and for the first time in his life he felt truly free.\n\nZinovy left that place, moving down river to the camp with wings on his feet. Everything was different. Even the colors had changed. They were impossibly deeper, richer, more exhilarating. He couldn't contain his emotions. He didn't even try. It was as if a heavy load that he hadn't even known he'd carried had been lifted from his shoulders.\n\nEric met him by the river just outside the camp. \"What's up?\" he asked, peering into Zinovy's eyes.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean, you look like the cat that swallowed the mouse.\" Then he grinned.\n\n\"What's so funny?\" Zinovy asked.\n\n\"Nothing. It's just that I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before.\"\n\nZinovy reached out and put his arm across Eric's shoulders. He grew serious. \"Eric, did you notice anything strange about the river today?\"\n\n\"Strange? How so?\"\n\nZinovy looked his friend in the eye. Then he said, \"Never mind. I'll tell you later.\"\n\nThat night, after dinner, Zinovy did tell Eric. He hadn't intended to blurt it all out, but it came, almost involuntarily.\n\nEric wasn't surprised. \"I figured that would happen.\" He plucked two pieces of fruit from the guava tree beside him and inspected them. He took a bite of one and handed the other to Zinovy. \"I've been praying for you, you know.\"\n\nZinovy gaped at him. \"You are a righteous person,\" he said.\n\nEric snorted. \"Hell, no. I'm not righteous.\" He held up his guava and grinned. \"I still take the biggest piece of fruit.\" Then he went on more seriously. \"The only difference is I notice when I do it now. I ask Him to help me change that gut instinct that tells me to always put myself first.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" he added. \"We're brothers now, you know? That's what it says in the book. Here, let me show you.\"\n\nAnd so Zinovy ducked his head with Eric over the little red book. All thought of challenging the insanity club was forgotten. He'd joined it instead.\n\n### PART THREE\n\nThe Beginning\n\n. . . and Freedom greet you in the light.\n\nAlexander Pushkin\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-TW0\n\nThree days went by. Zinovy's euphoria settled down into a steady stream of peace and quiet joy. He did not sense the presence within him as he went about his daily business, but he knew the one who owned his hands was there. He'd said he would be.\n\nSo strange. It was a reality. A silent reality. One that could not be measured by science.\n\nBy the end of the week almost everyone in camp had said something about the change in his life.\n\n\"What is up with you?\" Raheem asked. \"You are different. Happier or something. You are like a little kid.\"\n\n\"I know what it is,\" Simon said. \"He's got religion.\"\n\nRuben chided him. \"Nah. That's not how you say it. Religion doesn't make people happy. I think he's met the one the red book talks about. He's been born again.\"\n\n\"Well, that might explain the little kid business.\" Mike grinned and poked Zinovy in the ribs. Zinovy didn't answer them. He felt uncomfortable talking about the experience.\n\nHe did talk to Sara, though. They talked about everything now. \"That's good, Zinovy. I'm happy for you,\" she said. She cocked her head and looked up at him. \"I tried to tell you, remember? But you're a stubborn man.\"\n\nZinovy squirmed. \"You're right. It's hard to admit something you trusted in all your life has failed. I've always trusted in reason.\"\n\n\"Maybe reason hasn't failed,\" Sara said. \"Maybe it's fine as far as it goes. It's just not big enough to hold everything.\"\n\nShe was right. The realm of reason, where his mind had reigned for so long, was a tiny kingdom—one too small to contain all the realities in the universe.\n\nOne person in camp said nothing to him. Zinovy could feel the tension between them. Archie talked about everything else, but the buzz of gossip about Zinovy's new excitement appeared to go right over his head. Gradually the coolness of his friend's attitude began to affect Zinovy. The warm glow he'd felt cooled as well. Sometimes, when he was with Archie, it was hard to convince himself that what had happened was real.\n\nHe was in one of those funks when Eric came stomping into camp from a scouting expedition. \"Adam's back,\" Eric muttered as he walked past Zinovy to announce the news to Archie.\n\nBefore Eric made it to the command center the Regulus leader stepped into the clearing. He stopped on the edge of the compound to speak to a couple of the boys, then came on through, nodding to Carter and Grace as he passed.\n\nArchie joined Zinovy and extended his hand to their visitor, but his greeting lacked warmth. What was wrong? There was much heaviness in the air this day.\n\nAdam didn't seem to notice. \"Hello, Archie. Good to see you again. On my way back to my own camp after a recruiting run up north. Thought I'd check in and see how you're all doing.\"\n\n\"Will you be staying the night?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"Yes, I'll stay over this time, if that's all right. My camp is several miles farther on.\"\n\nThey chatted briefly, then Adam went to the river for a drink, retrieving an out-of-bounds ball and tossing it back to the boys as he went.\n\nArchie watched him go and frowned. \"I don't want him recruiting in our camp.\"\n\n\"He wouldn't do that. He knows we're not interested in joining his movement.\"\n\n\"I don't know. The boys are taken with his arguments. Some of them might be persuaded, and we can't afford to lose anyone. We need the manpower more than he does.\" He stood chewing on his lip for a minute. \"I think we'll cancel tonight's crew meeting. I don't want him there adding his comments. Tell the others. Tell them we'll reschedule for tomorrow night.\"\n\nSo the official meeting was canceled, but unofficial encounters continued all evening. Adam moved around the camp, talking to one or two of the boys at a time. He chatted for some time with Carter. Eric he avoided altogether. Finally he came back to Zinovy.\n\nZinovy sat under an apple tree with Sara and Caleb eating his supper. \"Hi Zinovy,\" Adam said. \"Mind if I join you?\"\n\n\"Of course not. Please sit.\"\n\nAdam picked an apple from the tree, then smiled at Sara and sat down cross-legged across from her. \"I don't believe we've been introduced,\" he said. \"I'm Adam Hamilton. And you are . . . \"\n\n\"Sara,\" she said.\n\n\"Pleased to meet you. And the little one here?\"\n\nCaleb squinted up at the dark-haired man and frowned. A piece of fruit dribbled down his chin. Sara reached over and wiped it off. \"This is Caleb. Say 'hello' Caleb.\"\n\nCaleb continued to stare, studying the man without comment.\n\nAdam laughed down at him and then spoke to Sara, \"You certainly don't look like an astronaut. How did you come to be part of this motley crew?\"\n\nSara started to speak, but before she could say anything Eric walked up and sat down between them. Adam peered around him and smiled at Sara again.\n\nEric leaned over. \"I notice you haven't eaten all your salad stuff, Zinovy. Mind if I do?\"\n\nZinovy handed him a leaf-bowl of greens. Eric took a mouthful and mumbled a greeting to Adam. Sara turned to the boy. \"Come, Caleb. Time to wash up. It's almost bedtime.\"\n\nShe rose and took Caleb's hand. Before she left she turned to Adam and said, \"It was nice meeting you. Hope you have a good journey.\"\n\nAdam's eyes followed her as she walked away. Then he turned to Eric. \"You have quite an appetite, son. Zinovy, aren't you glad you don't have to provide the food for these young men you're looking after? Boys have bottomless pits for stomachs.\"\n\nEric frowned. \"We all eat lots,\" he said. \"And we all look after ourselves. We're amazingly independent, considering how young we are. We actually take a youthful sort of pride in that. It's probably hard for you to remember how that feels.\"\n\nThe three continued to sit while Eric finished off the last of Zinovy's dessert. Then Eric stood. \"Well, I'm off on another of my frivolous enterprises. You two better sit for a while longer. At your age you need to avoid heavy exercise after eating.\" He patted his stomach. \"Bad for the digestion.\"\n\nHe left and Adam laughed. \"I think that young man still doesn't like me very much.\"\n\nZinovy shrugged and changed the subject: \"Have you recruited more men?\"\n\n\"Not as many as I'd hoped. The good ones are scarce. One regrettable thing about the purge is that it took the wrong people. The cities were destroyed and that's where all the talent was. All we're finding are rural people with no ambition for political action.\"\n\nThey sat in silence for a while. Then Zinovy thought of a question he'd been meaning to ask. \"Do you know anything of the vandals we had problems with?\"\n\nAdam nodded. \"My men disposed of them a couple of weeks ago.\"\n\nZinovy raised his eyebrows. He wasn't sorry the vandals were gone, but the abruptness of Adam's answer startled him. Adam went on, oblivious to Zinovy's hesitation. \"They were dangerous in an obvious way. But others out there are more dangerous, because their attacks are not overt.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nAdam dug a hole in the moss with his finger and pushed his apple core into it. \"These are people who seem to have special powers. They come and go quickly and silently and they're hard to track down. They're also convincing persuaders. They're able to fool people into believing lies.\" He finished burying the core and brushed the moss from his hands. \"One man in particular is becoming a real problem.\"\n\nZinovy's discomfort increased, for reasons he couldn't identify. \"You're not talking about Elan, are you?\"\n\n\"No. He's one of them. There are more. We're not sure how many, but they need to be eliminated. They're sneaking in behind us. We need a rear guard.\" He studied Zinovy's face before he went on. \"I understand you used to work for the FSB.\"\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\n\"I have also heard you have a particular skill that you perfected during your time with that organization.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. \"Where did you hear that?\" He knew the answer. Carter had been blabbing.\n\nAdam smiled and nodded at a couple of the boys across the compound, who responded with a wave. \"We have our sources,\" he said. \"Our sources tell us your methods are quick, clean and quiet.\"\n\nHis gaze returned to Zinovy's face and he continued. \"Your experience and that kind of skill would suit our purposes admirably. I'm going to ask you again, Zinovy. Would you consider working for the Regulus cause?\"\n\nZinovy sat unmoving. Adam's clinical, dispassionate description of his talents turned his stomach. But then, hadn't 'clinical' always been his own way of thinking? He felt the gall churning in his gut. He had no logical reason for doubting the rightness of Adam's cause. Everything he said made sense. Yet something was wrong.\n\nAdam apparently took Zinovy's thoughtful silence as a positive sign. He went on. \"We've settled on a primary target—this one man who is fast becoming the biggest threat to the movement. He won't be easy to deal with. He's ephemeral. Sometimes we wonder if he even exists, the stories we're hearing about him are so fantastic. He's clever—a magician with words. People who talk about him are almost delirious. If I believed such beings existed, I would say he was an enchanter.\" Adam shifted his position, pulling a knee up and wrapping his arm around it.\n\n\"The rumors are wild. Some have said the man is actually the king—that he moves away from the city—spirits himself away somehow—and travels in disguise, and when he comes back people haven't even realized he's been gone.\"\n\nAdam shook his head. \"The world is insane, Zinovy. This upheaval has spooked everyone. Reason has flown out the window. People are wild for security. They'll grasp at anything that looks like it might give stability to their lives. The man with the scars has become a folk hero—like Robin Hood or King Arthur. The city is the new Camelot.\"\n\nZinovy stopped him. \"Wait a minute. This man you're talking about, he has scars?\"\n\nAdam nodded. \"That's part of the myth.\"\n\n\"I've met him. You mean the one with the scars in his wrists?\"\n\n\"Yes, that's the one.\"\n\n\"But he seems harmless to me.\"\n\nAdam's eyes narrowed. \"Be careful, Zinovy. Be very careful. He seems harmless, but he's a powerful deceiver. He disarms the weak-minded, and when they're powerless he overcomes them and they're lost.\"\n\nZinovy was stunned. The man with the open hands—hands that had burned into his soul as he held them—\n\nAdam was speaking again. \"You say you've met him?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"This is perfect,\" Adam said. \"It's amazing how the pieces fall into place.\" He leaned forward. \"Zinovy, this was meant to be. Do you know where that man is? Can you find him?\"\n\nZinovy was beginning to dislike this conversation. Confusion played Russian roulette with his brain. Somewhere in the mess of strange ideas spinning around in his head was a silver bullet, but he had no idea which chamber it was in. Was it possible he'd been deceived? Had the visions been the trick of a magician?\n\nHe frowned at Adam and the struggle must have shown in his face. Adam reached out and touched his arm. \"Are you all right?\"\n\nZinovy stared at the hand on his arm. It was a real hand. Flesh and blood. No scars. No burning of his flesh. He looked up at Adam again. \"No. I don't know where to find him. He always approaches me.\"\n\nAdam frowned at a bird chattering in a nearby tree. \"Hmm. It could take some time then. But you're the perfect one for this mission.\"\n\nHe turned to Zinovy, and the creases on his forehead deepened. He seemed to sense it was time to drive home his argument. \"Never in all of human history has there been such a desperate need for wise rule, Zinovy. Rational rule. You weren't interested in the gold I offered you. That's commendable. You're an honorable man. I sense in you a strong commitment to right and reason.\"\n\nOnce more he touched the arm that was hanging, limp and useless before him. \"Zinovy, I'll say it again. We need those hands of yours. With your skill and experience and my administrative abilities we could bring this grand scheme about. What do you say?\"\n\nIt was another major turning point. Zinovy sensed it, and his heart froze.\n\nThen, as if in answer to a silent plea, the man with the scars was there. He stood behind Adam, arms outstretched, hands open. Zinovy stared at the hands, at the scars, then he looked up to the eyes and in that instant everything became clear.\n\nHe took a deep breath and stood up. He looked down at the Regulus leader sitting at his feet. \"I've seen the man,\" he said. \"He is everything the people claim he is and more. I've committed my life to him. I will not join your cause.\"\n\nThe two men studied each other silently for a moment. Zinovy could read the amazement in the other's eyes. Then the horror. Then the pity.\n\nZinovy inclined his head toward Adam and turned and walked away.\n\nHis heart pounded as he crossed the compound. Conflicting emotions washed over him. Shock, wonder, fear, but most of all an overwhelming sense of relief.\n\nThe die was cast. The decision he had made with the scarred one by the river had been cooled in the blacksmith's bath. He would never doubt again. He shuddered to think that he had wavered, even for a moment—that he had listened to Adam's voice of reason as if it might have been the final word.\n\nHe frowned and looked up to see Mark coming toward him. The engineer's step was determined and a thundercloud sat on his brow.\n\n\"I need to talk to you,\" Mark said when he was within arms length. \"It's urgent.\" He took Zinovy's elbow and steered him toward a grove of trees on the outskirts of the compound.\n\n* * *\n\n\"Hello, Adam.\" Zinovy stepped out of the brush into the other man's path.\n\n\"Oh, Zinovy. Hello,\" Adam responded. \"You surprised me.\"\n\n\"Our sleeping quarters are down here.\" Zinovy explained. \"If you're looking for the facilities, they're on the other side of camp.\"\n\n\"Well, actually, I was looking for a place to bed down for the night.\" The two eyed each other, the one warily, the other with a growing sense that more was involved in this conversation than geography.\n\nZinovy planted his feet and put his hands in his pockets. \"Sara is the only one who sleeps down there,\" he explained, nodding toward the path behind him.\n\nAdam narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. \"I know,\" he said. \"I saw her head that way. I thought I'd see if she wanted company tonight.\"\n\nZinovy's mind reeled. He remembered the last time he'd protected Sara's bed. The vision of the vandal poised over her innocent body flashed before his eyes and the anger—the hatred—rose up in his belly.\n\nThen he heard, again, Mark's words: \"I remember, now, who he is. After twenty years, I remember like it was yesterday,\" and the vision changed. The vandal became this elegant man with the deep blue eyes and the determined chin.\n\nZinovy breathed deeply and heavily. The hair on his arms stood erect and his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. The vandal was an angel in comparison. This man was another Anton.\n\nA sudden realization pulsed through Zinovy's veins. All the training—everything he'd done to this point in his life—had led him to this moment. This was what he'd been created for—to save Sara from her mother's loathsome fate; to save the one with the scars from the murderous intent of this evil person; to save the world from slavery to his selfish ambition.\n\nZinovy flexed his fingers and the cunning flowed back into his hands. He watched the pulse throbbing in Adam's neck—noted the exact spot the fingers would attach. He tensed, ready to spring, as the hatred that had started as a rumbling deep in his groin boiled up to his navel and raged through his gut. It was going to be so easy to kill this man.\n\nThen he remembered.\n\nZinovy froze. The hatred was there, burning, blistering. It had already moved to his hands. But Zinovy had made a promise. As the turmoil raged in his heart, the quiet voice in his head reminded him: You gave me your hands.\n\nBut it's so wrong now, Zinovy argued. The need is so great.\n\nThe voice persisted: Will you choose to submit? Or will you go your own way?\n\nFor an instant Zinovy recalled Adam's words. \"This man is an enchanter. He's dangerous.\" But it was a useless lie. Zinovy knew better. Deep down he knew what he had to do.\n\nThe eternal moment passed, and a calm settled over Zinovy. He relaxed his stance, but his eyes held Adam's. They stood for some time, staring at each other.\n\nFinally Adam grinned. \"Oh, I see,\" he said. \"So that's how it is.\"\n\nFor a moment Zinovy was confused. Then Adam's meaning dawned on him. \"No,\" he said. \"That's not how it is.\"\n\n\"Then what's your problem?\"\n\nZinovy lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes. \"Before you go further,\" he said, \"there are a couple of things you should know about Sara.\"\n\nAdam, obviously wondering about the sudden change in Zinovy's demeanor, hesitated, though his eyes flickered beyond Zinovy toward Sara's quarters. He shifted restlessly from one foot to the other.\n\n\"Oh? What would that be?\"\n\nZinovy was in no hurry. He looked into the hard eyes of the man he had once admired. Finally he spoke: \"First, Sara is not the kind of girl who takes men into her bed. She won't welcome you.\"\n\nAdam's face hardened and he straightened. \"Why don't you let me see about that?\" he said politely, coldly.\n\n\"Second,\" Zinovy went on as if he hadn't heard. \"you should be glad she's that kind of woman. You should be proud of her, in fact. Sara is everything you could want in a daughter.\"\n\nAdam stiffened once again. Zinovy watched him preparing to say pointedly that he was not looking for a daughter. Then, as the implication hit him, he caught his breath. \"What do you mean?\" he said. \"What are you saying?\"\n\nZinovy spoke calmly, but firmly. \"Do you remember a day, twenty years ago, when you raped a girl to prove to your comrades that you were a real man?\"\n\nHe could see Adam's face working, his mind going back in time, remembering, resisting the memory. He saw a flicker of denial cross that face, the reflexive impulse to lie, then the realization that any attempt at deception was futile.\n\nThey stood there, two men facing each other, each also facing an amazing truth. Adam was discovering that he had a daughter. Zinovy was discovering that his hands would not kill. He hated this man to the depths of his soul, but he was going to let him live.\n\nA sudden movement beside Zinovy startled both men. They whirled toward the sound. There stood Sara, ashen-faced, trembling, her deep blue eyes boring into eyes of the identical shade, her determined chin tilted toward the firm chin of the man before her.\n\nHer eyes glistened. Her chin quivered. She looked at her father, the man who had been coming to rape her as he had raped her mother. Then she raised herself to her full height and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.\n\n\"I forgive you.\"\n\nThe three words tumbled out of her trembling mouth, then she turned and walked back down the path toward her bed, leaving the two men standing motionless behind her.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy didn't sleep that night. He stationed himself by the grove of trees she'd chosen to bed down in, his tense body propped against a tree trunk, and pondered.\n\nThe man he had confronted tonight was evil personified. Two months ago Zinovy had killed a man for doing what this man had intended to do. But now Zinovy's instinct to kill, even to protect the innocent, was gone, replaced by a quiet submission to a higher authority. Zinovy had chosen to bow before the Creator of life. He would leave justice to the one who had a right to administer it.\n\nIt was an amazing change. Part of him was not at ease with this reality. It was hard to let go. But another part of him rested in the hope that his allegiance had been well placed.\n\nAs dawn broke, he fell asleep. Sara stumbled over him when she left her bedroom, later than usual, to go for breakfast. \"What?\" she exclaimed.\n\nZinovy stretched, rubbed his eyes, and squinted up into her face. She stared a moment, then she smiled. \"Don't worry about me. I'm all right.\"\n\n\"I know that,\" he said, his voice hoarse with sleep. \"I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't have something else to forgive.\"\n\nShe looked down at him, an unreadable expression in her eyes. Then she said, \"Thank you.\" Another pause and, \"Can we go get something to eat? I'm hungry.\"\n\nArchie met them as they crossed the compound, their hands loaded with breakfast delicacies. \"Adam is gone,\" he said.\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\n\"That's not all,\" Archie went on. \"Charles is gone too.\"\n\n\"Are you sure? He's not just away searching for food?\"\n\n\"No. His bedroll and kit are gone. I suspect he left with Adam and his men.\" Archie frowned. \"I don't like this. I thought we were going to keep the crew together.\"\n\n\"I'm not surprised,\" Zinovy said. \"He's been more unhappy than ever the last few days.\"\n\nArchie studied the ground, stroking his beard. Then he looked up. \"We need to have a talk with the others. See if there is any sign of dissatisfaction elsewhere. Some of the boys might be thinking of going too.\" He turned toward camp. \"We'll do it now. I don't want any more surprises.\"\n\nAnd so a meeting was called. Archie got straight to the point. \"Before we go today I want to talk to you about something that concerns us all. You may have noticed that Charles is no longer with us. It appears he's joined the Regulus movement. What I want to know is, are any of you considering doing the same?\" He looked from face to face. Zinovy scrutinized the expressions around him as well.\n\nThe twins were glowering. They spoke in unison: \"Hell, no.\"\n\n\"We're sticking,\" Simon added. \"We're not into that Regulus, 'rule-the-world' crap.\"\n\n\"Me neither,\" Emery said.\n\nOne by one, the others responded.\n\n\"Not me.\"\n\n\"I'm sticking.\"\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\nThey were half way around the circle. Alex and Conrad said nothing. They sat, arms folded across their chests, and simply shook their heads.\n\n\"Okay. Good,\" Archie said. \"Those of us in the Gaia crew, with the exception of Charles of course, are committed to seeing this mission through to the end. I just wanted to make sure the rest of you were with us.\" He glanced around once more and nodded. \"Thank you for your commitment.\" Then he went on: \"With Charles gone we'll have to make some adjustments to the guard roster. Eric, you and Raheem are on for tonight, aren't you?\"\n\nThe boys nodded.\n\nArchie looked around. \"Where's Mike?\" Mike raised his hand. \"Zinovy is on with you tomorrow night, Mike. Then Conrad and I have the following night. That will work. By that time we'll have a new schedule in place.\"\n\nArchie made another couple of routine announcements then wrapped the meeting up. \"Let's get going then. I want to make good time today. I'd like to catch up on the miles we've lost in the next week if we can.\"\n\n\"How much farther is it?\" Raheem asked from the back of the circle.\n\n\"We've a ways to go yet. We've come about 2600 miles, as near as we can guess. It's going to be another 3900 to the city, at least.\"\n\nZinovy watched the faces fall. Archie took advantage of the situation to press his agenda. \"That's why I've been so hard on you. It's going to be a long haul. We need to push on.\" They turned, then, to their packing, and soon they were on their way.\n\n\"Eric, you walk with Sara in the middle of the line today,\" Zinovy said. \"I want to bring up the rear.\"\n\nAs they started out, Archie fell back beside Zinovy. \"What do you think? Are we through with Adam or will he be back?\"\n\n\"We're through,\" Zinovy said, pursing his lips. He told Archie about Mark's revelation and his confrontation with Adam the night before.\n\nThe commander swore. \"I can't believe we didn't see through him from the beginning.\"\n\n\"He had a veneer of civilization,\" Zinovy said. \"It's sometimes hard to see the heart past the tongue.\"\n\nThey were approaching a grassy meadow, coming out of the trees that had lined the river for the last couple of miles. Zinovy gazed into the distance, pondering the mystery of the human condition. \"None of us are what we seem on the surface. I've learned that much on this journey.\"\n\nArchie shook his head. They walked on for another half mile, moving into another forest, dense with undergrowth. The going was rough here. Finally the commander said, irritation coloring his voice, \"We're slowing down again. I'd better push ahead and see if I can get them to pick up the pace.\" He left and Zinovy trudged on by himself, his mind busy with thoughts of the amazing events of the last three days.\n\nThey made good time, covering another fifteen or sixteen miles in the next four hours, but their pace, it turned out, was to be interrupted yet again.\n\nShouts from up ahead reverberated through the forest, rattling the leaves above Zinovy's head. He straightened and bounded through the brush, leaping over the grassy hummocks that interrupted the trail through the lush greenery of the forest floor, and came out into a small copse of trees where the crew were gathered. He almost stepped on the three children, who were busy investigating a burrow at the base of a tree behind the huddle of excited travelers.\n\nGraham and Alex had gone ahead on scout duty that morning. Now they stood before the group, both talking at once, jabbing their thumbs behind them in the direction they'd obviously just come from. Zinovy pushed past Mike and Raheem and came up beside Archie, who stood with his hands on his hips listening to the two boys.\n\n\"No,\" Alex was saying. \"We didn't talk to them. We just watched from a distance for a while, then we came back to tell you.\"\n\n\"Were they friendly?\"\n\nGraham nodded. \"I think so. A group of kids were playing in the river. That was what caught our attention. We heard them ahead of us.\"\n\n\"We came around the bend and there they were, laughing and having a great time,\" Alex said. \"And then some women came out and called them and they ran away up the trail. We followed them. The brush was thick so we could creep along without being seen. When we came to a more open part, that's when we saw the village.\"\n\nGraham interjected: \"It was incredible. A whole collection of houses that looked strange, clustered around some sort of common area. The huts were rounded on top, kind of like bee hives, and they looked like they'd been there forever.\"\n\n\"The kids ran in and out of the houses. You could hear their mothers yelling at them from inside. We couldn't understand what they were saying. It wasn't English. They were dressed funny, too. Like Bedouins. The women had veils and long robes. The children were naked.\"\n\n\"Where were the men?\"\n\n\"We didn't see any,\" Graham said. \"Maybe they were away at work.\"\n\nZinovy looked at Archie, waiting for instructions regarding this latest development. Archie inspected the trail ahead, scratching his beard. The others pelted the two boys with questions while he thought.\n\nFinally Archie turned to Zinovy. \"We'll stop here and send a couple of people up ahead to check this out. I think you should go. Who do you want to take with you?\"\n\n\"Makes sense to take Graham and Alex since they've been there already.\"\n\n\"Do it. Look for indications of military activity. I want to make sure it's safe before we forge ahead.\"\n\nGraham and Alex were keen to go and in minutes the three men were on their way. The boys trotted ahead, Zinovy following on their heels. \"Be cautious, you two. We don't know what's up there. Slow down and go quietly.\"\n\nZinovy judged they'd gone a quarter of a mile when they came upon the pool in the river where the children had been playing. In another fifty feet, over a faint trail through a clump of berry bushes and a Hawthorn hedge, they came upon the collection of dwellings the boys had described. Zinovy reached out and caught Graham's shirttail with one hand and Alex's belt with the other. \"Hold on,\" he whispered. \"Let's watch first.\"\n\nThey did so for a couple of minutes. Before them sprawled a haphazard arrangement of round-roofed houses randomly clustered around a lightly trampled grass meadow that appeared to serve as the village square. Zinovy grunted. No sign of city planners involved in this building process. He scanned the area for evidence of a male presence, looking beyond the ring of buildings into the large meadow spread out behind it, but saw none. The houses were quiet.\n\n\"Maybe the people heard us and ran away,\" Alex whispered.\n\nGraham nudged him. \"Look at the walls of the houses, Zinovy. What kind of stone is that?\"\n\nZinovy shook his head. He'd never seen such building material. The stones appeared to be rough-cut gems of some kind. They sparkled with iridescent beauty in the gleaming air. Each house was constructed of a different colored stone. Some were simply laid out—block on block, the stones laid in alternating layers, like bricks. Others were made of smaller stones, arranged more intricately. The effect was almost artistic, as if their designers had taken deliberate interest and much time in building them.\n\nZinovy was about to speak when there was an eruption of giggles at his elbow. He started and looked down into the brown, round face of a child about Caleb's age. The child grinned up at him and began babbling in a dialect that sounded vaguely familiar. Zinovy listened intently, trying to identify the inflection in the boy's speech. It was definitely Middle Eastern. He frowned. How . . . ? The Bedouins—maybe they could have traveled the distance, but these children?\n\nThe boy's strident tones were beginning to draw people to their windows. Soon the town was alive with women, chattering frantically as they scrambled from their dwellings. The nearest one, obviously the child's mother, screamed at the boy by Zinovy's side, gesturing wildly with her hand. The language was unintelligible, but the message was clear. In a flash Zinovy was a child again, back in his own village in Russia, hearing his mother calling, \"Zjama, you get over here, right now!\"\n\nThe boy ran, laughing, to his mother. She gathered him up in her black, flowing robes and half turned, shielding him from the strangers. The women huddled together, quivering and silent. Their eyes were Sara's eyes the day he first found her.\n\nGraham spoke at Zinovy's elbow. \"What do we do now?\"\n\nZinovy shook his head. \"Be still. We wait for them.\"\n\n\"I have an idea,\" Alex said. \"Watch this.\"\n\nHe knelt in the grass, reached out his hands to the women, and smiled. Zinovy stared at him in amazement. Then he looked back at the women, watching as their faces softened.\n\n\"Come on.\" Alex spoke urgently through the curve of his lips. \"Get down here.\"\n\nZinovy nodded to Graham and they both joined Alex on their knees.\n\nThe women didn't respond immediately, but the children were less inhibited. They began to step out from their mother's arms and inch forward. Finally, Zinovy's young friend ran to him. Zinovy took hold of his hand, rose and walked slowly toward his mother, talking quietly in Russian, knowing she wouldn't understand the words, but trusting his tone would convey his intent.\n\nIn an hour they were on their way back to the crew.\n\n\"Only women,\" Zinovy reported to Archie. \"Women and children. No men.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Archie rubbed his chin. \"You think it's safe to proceed, then, eh?\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"We can go ahead, no problem.\"\n\n\"All right. Let's do that. Maybe we can learn more about the situation from these people. You don't know what language they spoke?\"\n\n\"No, but they look like Bedouins.\"\n\n\"Okay. Let's move.\"\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-THREE\n\nThey reached the village in the late afternoon. A quiet hum of human voices—soft and gently accented—filtered through the glistening air, issuing from the houses, mingling with the prattle of the birds in the forest trees around them.\n\n\"Grace, you go in first,\" Archie said. \"We don't want to startle them.\"\n\nGrace approached the village carefully, going to the house Zinovy said was the one belonging to the woman they'd first met. The stone door was ajar. Grace tapped on it and spoke quietly through the opening. Almost immediately, the woman's face appeared in the window, her head covering down around her neck. She started, gathered the folds of her veil in her fist, and drew them across her nose and mouth. Seconds later, she was at the entrance, peeking around the door.\n\nGrace spoke to her—a greeting of some sort. The woman hesitated, a puzzled look on her face. Finally she looked back, whispered a quick word to someone behind her, and stepped out into the yard. Archie glanced at Zinovy and nodded. Slowly, the rest of the crew moved toward the house, joining Grace in the village green.\n\nOther women, who'd obviously been watching from their own houses, shuffled out. The children followed, clustering around their mother's skirts, their eager, dark eyes darting from one strange visitor to the other, bright with curiosity. Still no sign of a male presence.\n\nThe crew mingled, speaking and listening to replies in a language foreign to them, smiling and bowing often, and soon the whole contingent had settled in together. Suppertime came and the village women, with gestures and murmurs, insisted their guests sit while they gathered a feast of their finest culinary discoveries.\n\nMany of the menu items were new to Zinovy, the first courses more tangy and peppery than any he'd yet tasted. One spicy dish set fire to his tongue and brought tears to his eyes. He ate a second helping of that one, followed by a serving of something sweet that took the sting away and left a pleasant aftertaste, something cool and citrusy.\n\nAt nightfall, the mothers herded the children off to bed, nodded a shy good-night to their visitors, went into their houses and closed the doors. The Gaia crew found resting places in the forest verge and along the riverbank. Sara settled Caleb on a grassy mound close to the village, shushing his excited chatter several times before he finally settled down. Zinovy bedded down nearby and fell instantly into a deep sleep.\n\nIn what seemed like minutes, the village was stirring. Children stood at the windows, calling out to each other between the houses, and faces began to poke out of doorways. Zinovy sat up, stretched his arms above his head, and scanned the faces of the villagers, glad to see that curiosity had replaced the fear in the women's eyes.\n\nAfter breakfast, Archie came up to Zinovy. \"I have a hunch,\" he said. \"Last night I noticed something familiar about their accent when we talked. I'm going to try to talk to them again. Come with me.\"\n\nThey walked over to the women, who were airing out blankets in the village square. Archie singled out the mother of the boy who had befriended Zinovy. \"Parlez-vous francais?\" he asked. Her eyes lit up and she began jabbering in French.\n\nZinovy grunted in surprise and listened as Archie began to interrogate the woman. Only one man lived in the village—the woman's father. He was away on a scouting trip, expected home that evening. But the biggest surprise was yet to come. When the interview was over, Archie looked at Zinovy.\n\n\"Something's very wrong here. Call Grace. Have her bring the logbook. We need to get this sorted out.\"\n\n* * *\n\n\"Where on earth is Illizi?\"\n\nThe crew had gathered for a hasty meeting before lunch. Archie had filled them in on his discoveries. \"It's in Algeria, Graham. Near the Libyan border.\"\n\n\"That's crazy. Libya's in the middle of the Sahara Desert. We can't be that far east.\"\n\n\"You're right,\" Archie said. \"Grace, give us those figures again.\"\n\nGrace looked at the logbook. \"We landed 118 days ago. We began the trip a little over three weeks later. We've been traveling for 95 days, but that's not actual travel time. If you leave out the rest days, that's 82 days of actual travel.\"\n\nArchie interjected. \"We've averaged about twenty-five miles a day. That's a rough estimate. That means we've traveled around 2000 miles.\"\n\nEric had been figuring too. \"So we should be somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean by now.\" He looked up, a puzzle on his face.\n\n\"But there is no ocean,\" said Mike.\n\n\"Yes, but the land would still be there. We've been walking across the bottom of the Atlantic all this time,\" Archie said. \"Or at least that's what we should be doing.\"\n\n\"This is impossible,\" Zinovy said. \"We can't be in Illizi.\" But even as he said it he knew it was true. It had to be. The women claimed they'd lived in Illizi all their lives. \"We did not move,\" they'd said. \"The world moved around us.\" They had no reason to lie.\n\n\"You said their men had worked in the oil fields?\" Eric asked.\n\nArchie nodded. \"They went off to work the day before the event. The women haven't seen them since.\"\n\n\"Well, that fits. Algeria was full of oil. BP was in there big time. Lots of money going to the new regime from Algeria and Libya.\"\n\nAlex frowned. \"I wonder what Adam thought about all this. He obviously recruited from this area. He must have realized where he was.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Eric asked.\n\n\"That's where all the young men are—with Adam. They must have been some of the Bedouins he brought to camp that day.\"\n\nIt was true. The women had said their sons went off to follow le grand mullah américain qui est sur son chemin à la ville sainte. That great American mullah had to be Adam.\n\nThe pieces were coming together. The Bedouin clothing—the Middle-Eastern tongue—the French language. After travelling 2000 miles from Cape Canaveral they had ended up in northern Africa.\n\nThe others were obviously thinking along the same line. Eric said, \"When Elan told us the ocean had disappeared, I thought he meant the water. What if he meant the land was gone too?\"\n\n\"Or moved, maybe.\" Mark said.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"I see what he means,\" Emery interjected. \"Weren't the continents all squished together at one time, before they drifted apart? What if they've come together again?\"\n\n\"Impossible,\" Zinovy said. \"It took millions of years for the continents to drift apart. They couldn't have moved back, especially this quickly.\"\n\nGrace chewed on the tip of her pencil. \"I don't know about that. Remember Bob Anderson's description of the earthquake? He claimed it was a sideways motion, like a grating or scraping sideways.\"\n\n\"I'm remembering,\" Archie said.\n\nThe boys were getting excited now. \"And remember when Elan told us the city was at the center of the earth,\" Raheem said. \"That is what he meant. Do you not see? The earth has re-formed around this city. It is right in the middle of the land mass.\"\n\n\"It's Pangaea all over again, eh?\" Archie's brows were still down, but it was obvious he was beginning to believe the impossible. Zinovy was slowly coming around as well. The whole idea was preposterous, but it was equally impossible to ignore the reality before them.\n\n\"We need to reassess our travel time to the city,\" Archie said. \"If this is all true, we're a lot closer than we thought.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThat evening the patriarch of the village returned. He came as the crew sat eating their dinner with the villagers. Zinovy heard an animal snort behind him. He leapt to his feet, his hands alert, but the caution was unnecessary.\n\nThe old man sat on the back of a camel, staring at the strangers. Finally he clucked to the animal. It dropped awkwardly to its knees and the man gathered his robes in one arm and dismounted. He looked at Zinovy, who stood by, ready to react to any danger. Then he spread his hands out toward them. \"Please,\" he said. \"Be seated. You will not be harmed. You are our guests, it seems.\"\n\nArchie rose then and bowed to the newcomer. \"You speak English?\"\n\nThe Bedouin nodded. \"What brings you to our village?\"\n\nThey sat together and Archie explained the history of the Gaia group and told of their plans to travel to the city.\n\n\"I have heard of this place,\" the Bedouin said. \"In Palestine. It is a great mystery. All other cities were destroyed, but this one, alone, survived.\"\n\n\"As did your village,\" Archie said.\n\nThe old man blinked his eyes and inclined his head. \"Our village is thriving in this new environment, as you see. We are healthy and content. But we are missing many of our people.\"\n\n\"We noticed,\" Archie said. \"Your men are gone.\"\n\nThe Bedouin chief sighed. \"We are bereft. The women, only, remain. If there were danger, we would be exposed and helpless.\"\n\n\"Is there danger?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"We have encountered none. We have heard there are outlaws to the south, but none have threatened us as yet. If they come, we will defend ourselves and survive. We are a hardy people.\"\n\nThe men talked a while longer, and the crew stayed the night in the village. The three Gaia children took advantage of the unplanned holiday, splashing in the river with their new Bedouin friends until bedtime. Sara, Grace and Michelle spent time with the women. Sara knew some French, and with gestures and smiles the three managed to learn more about life in the Arab village. One discovery added in a small way to their creature comforts.\n\n\"It's too soft to use for a weapon,\" Zinovy told Archie as they inspected a sample of the stone flint Sara had brought him. \"But it obviously can be sharpened.\" He rubbed his thick beard. \"I think I'll try it out on this bush growing out of my face.\"\n\n\"The stones they've built their houses out of are soft too,\" Michelle said. \"They come from quarries somewhere around here. The women and children cut them out of the ground using the flint stones or even small sticks. And when they set them in place in the walls they kind of settle into each other. It's amazing. When you touch the material it feels almost alive.\"\n\nThe next morning, Archie called them together. \"Grace and I've done the figuring,\" he said. \"If we're right we've only got 800 miles before we get to the city.\"\n\n\"Good,\" Simon said. \"Maybe you'll quit nagging us to hurry.\"\n\nArchie grinned. \"Don't bet on it. See these gray hairs? I'm ready to retire. The sooner we get there the sooner my job is done. We're pushing on, young man.\"\n\nThe Bedouin patriarch came from his house in the center of the village to see them off. His grandson came with him, skipping and laughing by his side.\n\n\"You're sure you'll be all right without your men?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"We are fine.\" The old man shook his head and sighed. \"The young men are foolish. They believe the lies of foreigners who promise excitement and power and wealth. They do not listen to the wisdom of old men. It is a hopeless matter when this is true. The foundations are destroyed.\"\n\nThe Arab child struggled to extricate his hand from the old man's gnarled one, but the elder's grip held firm.\n\n\"When I was a child there was still talk of honor, but for so long now there has only been talk of revenge and of power. We suffered much at the hands of the western world in the old days. Even after the great leader emasculated the powerful nations the oppression continued. It is hard to believe it could ever be different, even in this beautiful garden that the world has become.\"\n\nArchie inclined his head toward Caleb, who stood beside him clutching a squirming Aslan as tightly as the old man clutched his grandson. \"This child is an American.\"\n\nThe old man reached out and tousled Caleb's hair with his free hand. \"It is true.\" He looked at the children for a moment, first one, then the other. \"Perhaps there is hope. I am a fool to believe it, but perhaps there is hope. If there is hope for any of us in this new land it will come only if these children grow up to live in peace with one another.\"\n\n* * *\n\nCharles had not enjoyed his trip to the Regulus compound.\n\nHe eased his aching rear off the back of the horse he'd been riding, releasing his hold on the Bedouin warrior in front of him only when his feet had firmly touched the ground. He was not a horseman. If he was going to be a part of this group, he'd have to find another form of transportation. He rubbed the most painful spot on his back and squinted over at Adam.\n\nSuddenly, the quiet afternoon exploded with a rumbling burst of thunder that sent the sparkling air around them into a frenzy of movement. The horse he'd just escaped from bolted, responding to the agitation of its Bedouin rider. Charles whirled and looked to the north. A great mountain stood in the distance, rising abruptly from the level plain. Fleetingly, he wondered if the mountain stood between them and the city.\n\nThe Bedouins collected themselves, jabbering nervously. Adam was still mounted. Haidar, seated atop his horse by the Regulus leader's side, inclined his head to the right, motioning for Adam to follow. The two walked their horses across the compound and disappeared in a clump of trees near the edge of the clearing.\n\nCharles watched them go, debating. It looked to be a long trip ahead of them and the transportation issue would have to be resolved. There was no way he could travel any distance on horseback. He'd never gotten along with horses, and he wasn't built to ride. There had to be an alternate means of getting around. At some point he would have to talk to Adam about it. He might as well get it over with now. He trudged through the grass toward the two men, looking at his feet as he considered how he should word his request. He would need to be diplomatic. He didn't want to hurt his chances for future involvement with the program.\n\nSuddenly he was aware of movement by his side. His head jerked up. Elan was there. \"Take my hand, Charles,\" his new companion said.\n\n\"What?\" Charles said, and swore under his breath.\n\n\"Do as I say, now.\" The authority in Elan's voice shocked Charles. His jaw dropped as Elan reached over and grasped his hand firmly. They continued to walk, hand in hand, until Adam and the Bedouin came into view.\n\nCharles slowed his steps. Maybe he shouldn't approach the two men after all. They were deep in what appeared to be a serious discussion. But Elan continued walking, drawing Charles along until they were within earshot of the conversation. Then closer. Adam didn't even look up when they stopped beside his horse's withers.\n\nThe Arab was talking. \"But they are a cautious people. Suspicious. There is little trust even among themselves.\"\n\nAdam answered, \"I know. It's becoming a real problem. We need unity—loyalty—if we're to accomplish anything. And their foolish superstitions don't help any either.\"\n\nThe Arab thought a minute, his restless horse sidestepping under him. Finally he cocked his head and looked at his companion. \"Their superstitions might help us.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I am thinking of the lion heart ritual. You should have made more of it. You had their attention then, but you lost it.\"\n\nThe two sat for a while, thinking. Then Haidar's face hardened. \"Who is the child?\"\n\nAdam seemed confused at the change of subject. \"What child?\"\n\n\"The one I held. The one the Russian was so concerned for. Who is he?\"\n\n\"Oh, that one. I don't know. They picked him up somewhere along the way. I think his name is Caleb.\"\n\nThe horse under Haidar reared and whinnied, reacting to the sting of the crude bit in his mouth as the rider yanked on the reins. \"Caleb! You are certain? His name is Caleb?\"\n\n\"I think so. I heard the young girl call him that. Why?\"\n\nHaidar pondered. A dark smile hovered around the edge of his mouth, nearly staying, but not quite.\n\nFinally he said, \"You need that child.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"You need that small boy. If you had him you'd have the people—how do you say?— 'eating from the palm of your hand.'\"\n\nA frown rumpled Adam's brow. \"I'm sorry. You've lost me.\"\n\n\"You said his name is Caleb. Do you not see? The Arabic name for Regulus—the little king—is Al Kalb al Asad.\"\n\nAdam's quizzical look remained. Haidar leaned into his face and repeated: \"Caleb. El Kalb. The names are related. How can you not get it? It is too amazing.\" He sat back in his saddle and watched the suggestion sink in. \"And the lion as well. He has a lion. And his lion is the offspring of the one whose heart the warriors were so impressed with when we showed it to them. The lion and the boy are friends. It is a sign, I tell you. It is destiny that he should fall into our hands.\"\n\nAdam considered. \"I don't know. The Regulus myth is an interesting parallel to our situation, to be sure, but the correlations have got to be coincidental. The prophecies aren't even ancient enough to carry weight. No ancient prophecy would speak specifically of Russia and the United States. I thought you were too enlightened for such superstitions.\"\n\n\"What if I am? The people are not. You want their support, yes?\"\n\nCharles knew how badly Adam wanted the support of the Bedouins. Adam had talked about it in one of their crew meetings. The Bedouins were a massive group, and powerful. They were manpower in every sense of the word and Adam needed manpower. But Charles could see that the idea of acquiring the child was not sitting well with the Regulus leader.\n\n\"Having the child would complicate things. He'd be high maintenance. We don't have time for that kind of baggage.\"\n\n\"We do not need the child.\"\n\nAdam squinted at Haidar. \"I thought you said—\"\n\n\"The strength of the lion is in his heart, my friend.\" Haidar tapped his sword. \"We do not need the whole child. We need only his heart.\"\n\nCharles stared, open-mouthed at the Arab. Then, instinctively, he flinched away from both men, fearing the shock on his face would alert them to his horror at the terrible idea he'd just heard the Bedouin suggest.\n\nElan tightened his grip on Charles' hand, stopping his evasive movement.\n\n\"They can't see you, Charles. As long as we're touching, they can't see or hear you. Just stay where you are.\"\n\nAdam was talking. Protesting. \"We gave them the lion heart. That was a concession. But I've told you, the ceremonial elements have to fall away. We'll get nowhere in the end if we allow them to hang on to such superstitions.\"\n\n\"But the prophecy is not complete. We need the heart of the child—this child in particular. That is all we need. Do you not see it?\"\n\nAdam pondered. \"You say if you have this heart your people will be satisfied?\"\n\nHaidar smiled again. \"If we have the heart of the child, you will have the heart of the people. They will follow you to the ends of the earth.\"\n\n\"It's barbaric.\"\n\n\"They are a barbaric people. But they can be taught.\" Haidar made his final thrust. \"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. The heart of this child, sacrificed for the good of the whole.\"\n\nAdam finally nodded. \"All right. It's done. But this is the end, do you hear?\"\n\nHaidar bowed. \"This is the end,\" he said.\n\nCharles stood, trembling, stunned and silent. Then he turned to Elan. \"The lion kill. The lion's heart. They were the ones, then. It wasn't the vandals.\" He spoke as if to himself, the truth slowly dawning on him.\n\nElan nodded.\n\nCharles looked at the ground. Surely this whole thing wasn't real. It had to be a dream. A nightmare.\n\nThe men left. Charles hadn't heard the end of their conversation. He looked into Elan's face and saw a reflection of his own horror.\n\n\"It's true, then? They really are suggesting—\"\n\nAgain, Elan nodded.\n\nCharles inhaled deeply, gathering his wits. The movement he'd been identifying himself with had suddenly become abhorrent to him. \"I want no part of this,\" he said.\n\n\"You are a part of this,\" Elan replied. \"But you don't have to contribute to the evil if you don't want to.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You can save this child, Charles.\" Elan's face grew deeply serious. \"This one you can save.\"\n\nCharles blanched. Memories flooded over him. Tears filled his eyes. He wilted. He would have fallen if Elan had not caught him.\n\nThe two stood for a moment, Charles clinging to Elan. Finally Charles straightened, ran his hand over his face, and frowned.\n\n\"Let's go,\" he said to Elan.\n\n\"You go. You can do this. I'll be around later if you need me.\"\n\n* * *\n\nCharles plotted his escape for two days. While he planned, he puttered around the compound, taking pains to appear as if he were settling in. He'd hoped to leave in a way that wouldn't raise suspicion, but in the end he'd decided that getting back to warn the others was more important than maintaining the element of surprise.\n\nHe knew a plan was afoot to get the boy. For the last two days their camp had not moved. During that time Adam and Haidar had met with three or four small Bedouin groups. Charles had been too far away to hear the words they'd spoken, but he'd noted the body language. Adam would argue, order, cajole. Haidar would translate. But after each session the tribesmen, without exception, would frown, fold their white-sleeved arms across their bodies and shake their heads vigorously. In the end, Adam and Haidar huddled together by themselves, talking and nodding. Charles knew by the way they'd left their meeting they'd come up with a solution to their problem.\n\nSo Charles waited for dusk, planning to slip away after supper when his departure would be less noticeable. He surveyed the camp. Adam and Haidar were nowhere in sight. They tended to wander off for their frequent conferences.\n\nThe Bedouins—there were many of them—were taking care of the horses, securing them for the night. They seemed to be constantly fiddling with their lines, making sure the gear was sound. The horses had an annoying habit of chewing on the reins. The American contingent—the six men who had come with Adam on his first visit to the crew—lolled on the ground near the center of the camp, chewing on grass and talking quietly. No one looked his way.\n\nOnce again the mysterious thunder reverberated over the plains, coming from the bowels of the large mountain in the distance. Charles watched the reaction of the Bedouins. As always, they recoiled from the sound. As it faded in the distance, they settled, but the tension in their ranks remained. It was time for him to make his move.\n\nHe unrolled his sleeping gear, making as if he were preparing for bed, then he sauntered off toward the edge of the clearing, unfastening his fly as he went in case anyone happened to look up and wonder where he was going. He'd almost reached the cover of a nearby cluster of oak trees when Adam's voice stopped him.\n\n\"Charles. I need to talk to you.\"\n\nSlowly Charles turned and faced the man. He was in for it. He'd been discovered. He would be lost, and there would be no way to help the boy. He felt the flush of his thoughts as they spread across his forehead—written there for Adam to read. But Adam spoke before Charles could recover his voice.\n\n\"Charles, you asked earlier if there were some special task you could perform to prove your allegiance to the movement.\"\n\nCharles nodded, numb with fear.\n\n\"It turns out we do have an assignment for you. It's one you're well qualified for. In fact, I think you're the only one who could do this for us.\" He smiled. The warmth was missing. Why had he not noticed that before?\n\nAdam went on. \"This is an important assignment. The future of the endeavor we're undertaking could ride on the success of your mission.\"\n\nCharles was flummoxed. What on earth could they want with him?\n\n\"Let's walk over here, away from the others,\" Adam said, coming up beside him. \"This mission is so critical we don't want everyone to know the details.\"\n\nThe irony of the remark struck Charles. The details are already out, my friend. With difficulty, he composed himself. He still couldn't speak, but he licked his lips and nodded once more.\n\n\"What we need, see, is someone to work for us from inside the shuttle crew camp. We need you to return to your people—tell them you've changed your mind about working with us. Once you've settled in again, we need you to help us obtain a key person from that group. Someone who is invaluable to our cause. Would you be willing to do that?\"\n\nHe was beginning to feel more at ease. Adam seemed totally oblivious to his escape plan. Maybe there was still a chance. \"Who's the key person?\"\n\nAdam shifted from one foot to the other and looked down. \"It's the young boy. Caleb I think is his name.\"\n\n\"You want him? You would take him away from his people?\"\n\nAdam looked up again at Charles. \"He has no people. I understood he was an orphan.\"\n\nCharles studied Adam's face, contemplating. Then he lied boldly. \"Yeah. He has no one. His folks were killed by vandals. The crew took him along because there wasn't really anything else to do. They couldn't just leave him behind by himself.\" He pursed his lips and studied his feet, pretending to consider Adam's proposition. Finally he looked up again. \"Sure. If it's that important I'll do it.\"\n\n\"Good. Now, even though he's not related to anyone there, they might not be willing to let us have him. You saw how Zinovy reacted when he felt the boy's life was threatened. It might not be easy for us to convince him to give the boy up. So this is the plan: once you're back, you'll need to attach yourself to him. He has to come to trust you and, more importantly, the others have to trust you with him. Once you've laid that groundwork, at a pre-arranged time, you'll lead him away from the camp to a designated area where our people can meet you and bring him to our headquarters.\"\n\n\"What are your plans for him?\" Charles asked with apparent curiosity.\n\n\"He's important to our Arab constituents. They think the boy has special significance. They'll want to make him a mascot for the movement. His presence will give us credibility with these important allies. You probably realize how essential that is to us.\"\n\nCharles nodded. \"Okay. I'll head out tonight. It might take me a while to connect up with them. What kind of time frame are you thinking of?\"\n\nAdam gave him the deadline. It was not comforting. Charles wasn't sure how he was going to deal with this situation, but at least he'd been provided with a credible reason for leaving the Regulus camp. Once back with his people, they'd have a few days to come up with some way to protect the child.\n\nAdam spoke again. \"They've moved since you came. We'll send a guide with you.\"\n\nThis development did not please Charles. He'd much rather go by himself. But Adam was right. He had no idea where the crew were by now. \"How do you know where they are?\"\n\n\"We have a scout on them all the time. Been doing that all along. We need to keep tabs on what's happening in the neighborhood, you know.\" He squinted up at the sky. \"It's almost time for a changing of the guard. I'll send you off with the next detail.\" He looked at Charles. \"You'll want to collect your gear,\" he reminded him. Then he grinned. \"You also might want to finish your business before you go.\"\n\nCharles blanched. What was he saying? What did Adam know about his business?\n\nAdam motioned to his open fly. \"It will be a hard ride,\" he said. Then he turned back toward the compound and called to Haidar. \"Get the next watch ready. Charles will go with him.\"\n\nCharles breathed a sigh of relief and went off to collect his things, stopping on the way to do his business. Then he waited, trying to appear relaxed, but his mind whirled.\n\nHis consternation deepened a few minutes later when one of the Arabs cantered up to him. Before Charles could protest, the powerful Bedouin reached down, grasped him by the forearm, and hoisted him up onto the horse.\n\nCharles groaned. He'd forgotten about the transportation problem. He gritted his teeth and grimaced as the warrior trotted off, following in the wake of the relief scout, oblivious to the agony of the bouncing baggage behind him.\n\nProtect the child. The words echoed behind Charles' pounding ribs as they galloped across the plain toward the shuttle crew's camp. This time he could do it, Elan had said. This time he would be successful.\n\nSomehow, he knew it was true. It had to be true. He needed this chance to redeem himself. He shuddered as he clung to the robes of the Bedouin warrior, remembering, as if it were yesterday, that time, long ago, when he had failed to protect his own child. Remembering the agony—the inconsolable heartbreak that failure had caused.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR\n\nZinovy looked up from the branch he was carving. Charles was back. Either the excitement of world domination had proved too much for him or Regulus had tired of his constant muttering and sent him back. Zinovy suspected it was the latter.\n\nHe watched Charles walk across the compound toward Archie, his bedroll slung over his shoulder and his backpack hanging loosely from the crook of his arm. The two talked briefly, then Archie smiled and they shook hands, and Charles plodded on toward a clump of bushes on the edge of the clearing to dispose of his kit.\n\nZinovy continued his whittling. He was making a flute for Caleb, using the new flint razor he'd brought from the village, being careful to shape the instrument in such a way that it could not be mistaken for a weapon of any kind. Archie finished a conversation with Grace, then sauntered over toward Zinovy, stopping to give some instruction to Graham and Alex on his way.\n\nHe didn't appear to be in a hurry, but there was an urgency in his voice when he spoke. \"We have to talk,\" he said. \"Charles is back and he says he has bad news. I don't know what's up, but he insisted we meet him down by the river in a few minutes. He says we have to be evasive about it. Told me to pretend like everything was all right. Apparently we're being watched.\" Zinovy stiffened. \"Don't move quickly,\" Archie said. \"Just get over to the riverbank as soon as you can without appearing too purposeful about it.\"\n\nZinovy resisted the urge to scan the perimeter of the camp. Instead he returned to his whittling, humming softly to himself until Archie had walked to the river and sat down on a clump of grass near Charles.\n\nA few minutes later Zinovy joined them. Charles stood on the bank watching the children splash in the water. He glanced up briefly as Zinovy approached, warning him under his breath to be casual. Zinovy squatted a few feet away from them both and resumed his whittling. In another few minutes Charles sat down and began to speak. His face remained expressionless, but what he said blew Zinovy's mind away.\n\nCharles gave them the whole story—about Elan's appearance at the Regulus camp, about the strangeness of standing with Elan next to Adam and not being noticed. He recounted the conversation he'd overheard, including the connection Haidar had made between Caleb's name and the mythical El Kalb whose reputation they intended to use to gain power over the Bedouin warriors. He told them about his attempted escape, and about Adam's interruption, and their scheme to include him in their plans. When he finished, Zinovy sat, stunned, his flute construction forgotten.\n\n\"They're a pretty heartless bunch of men,\" Charles concluded, wincing at the inadvertent pun.\n\n\"Unbelievable,\" Archie said. \"Just unbelievable.\"\n\nThe three sat quietly for several minutes. Zinovy thought hard. He remembered the day, early on in their journey, when he and Caleb had rested in the grass—when Caleb had chattered and he had dozed. The image of tiny, yellow bodies, bloodied, lying dead in their box, flashed through his mind. His shoulders slumped as the reality of the threat to this child settled down upon him like a mantle of lead.\n\nFinally Archie said, \"We need to think this through. What are our options?\"\n\n\"Well, we have a breather. Adam gave me time to get back into the groove here, enough time to make friends with the boy and convince you all that I'm back on track with things.\"\n\n\"When are you supposed to deliver the goods?\" Archie asked.\n\n\"It's somewhat open-ended. As soon as I can carry it off, I'm supposed to contact the guard—their guard—and pass the boy on to him.\"\n\n\"You say they've got a guard posted all the time. Does he travel alongside us then?\"\n\nCharles crossed his arms. \"Yes,\" he said. \"When we stop for the night, the guy posts himself on the far side of the camp, between us and the Regulus compound. He runs up a flag—some red Bedouin headdress thing. He runs it up a tree where it can be seen from some distance. Then he waits until his relief comes. They change the posting every twelve hours.\"\n\nArchie rested his elbow on his knee and played with his beard. \"I can't believe we haven't seen this happening.\"\n\n\"The flag is always on the outside of the grove we camp in.\"\n\n\"And our guards are too near-sighted. They only watch the camp,\" Archie said.\n\n\"Their guards are Bedouin?\" Zinovy asked.\n\n\"No. He uses only the Americans for guard duty. The Arabs are too unreliable, I think.\"\n\nFinally Zinovy spoke. \"So perhaps we can accost this guard—sneak up on him and take him out.\"\n\nArchie shook his head. \"No. Not yet. We don't want them to know their cover is blown. We'll carry on as usual for the next few days. How many days do you think we can get away with, Charles?\"\n\n\"Five, max.\"\n\nArchie frowned. \"Okay. We'll have to work within that window.\" He looked across the river, where Caleb and Sara were playing tag along the bank. \"I guess they're safe over there for now,\" he said. Then he turned back to Charles. \"How far away is the Regulus compound?\"\n\nCharles screwed up his face, calculating. \"I'd guess it's about ten or fifteen miles. The trip must have taken no more than an hour, though it seemed longer.\"\n\n\"Do they move, too? They're not set up in a permanent camp, are they? Where do they get their water that far away from the river?\"\n\n\"There's water over there,\" Charles said, answering the last question first. \"Another stream, not as big as this one, but big enough to support them. The group is huge, Archie. He's got hundreds of the Bedouins, as well as the six American guys that came with him to the camp the first time, remember?\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Archie grunted. \"So they're settled?\"\n\n\"For now, I guess. They didn't move when I was there, anyway. I figure they're probably ten or twelve miles ahead of us, and maybe six or seven miles north of the river. They have another flag posted at their site for the returning guard.\"\n\nEvening crept over the brightness. The crew members began leaving the river and heading for bed. Archie straightened and rubbed the back of his neck. \"Okay. I think we won't tell the others about this just yet. The fewer people who walk around looking worried the better. We want to preserve the element of surprise as long as possible.\" He turned to Charles. \"You head on up with the rest. We'll follow in a while.\"\n\nCharles stood and sauntered off, moving up behind Sara and Caleb. Archie and Zinovy watched him go. \"I told you something bad was ahead of us,\" Archie said. \"This is about as bad as it can get.\"\n\n\"We've faced difficulties before. We'll deal with this one, too.\"\n\nIt was an empty encouragement. Zinovy had no idea how they would deal with this one.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy had expected to lay awake all night pondering their latest problem, but he was asleep as soon as his head landed on the mossy mound he'd chosen for a pillow. He woke refreshed, enjoying an instant's peace before his memory kicked in. When it did, he scrambled to his feet and went off to find Archie. He found him down by the river.\n\nArchie glanced up as Zinovy approached, spashing a handful of water over his head and rubbing his eyes before he spoke. \"I've got more information,\" he said. \"Not good, of course.\" He frowned. \"They have weapons—lots of them. The Bedouins have knives, something like scimitars. Gruesome things. I'd hate to come in contact with one the way Charles describes them.\"\n\nZinovy flinched. Archie stood up and went on. \"That's not all they have. They also have two butcher knives.\"\n\nZinovy blinked at him and Archie nodded.\n\n\"So the vandals were not the thieves after all,\" Zinovy mused. He readjusted his assessment of their enemy.\n\n\"You'll never guess who carries one of the butcher knives,\" Archie said.\n\nZinovy voiced the obvious: \"Adam?\"\n\nAgain, Archie nodded, and a premonition flashed through Zinovy's mind—a bloody vision somewhere in the future. Zinovy swore, thinking back to that day—Was it only a week ago?—when he'd confronted Adam in the meadow outside Sara's bedroom. The man should have been eliminated. Zinovy had had the opportunity. He hadn't had the will. He'd made a grave mistake.\n\nBut just as instantly the inner voice he'd been learning to listen to spoke in his spirit. Don't be afraid. Trust me.\n\nArchie wiped the remaining water from his face and went on. \"I have some thoughts on how we should proceed. First, the three of us—you, me and Charles—need to keep close to Caleb and Sara at all times. I've already talked to Charles. He can do it easily, since he's supposed to be chatting the boy up.\"\n\nZinovy nodded, and Archie continued. \"On the trail, I want you to continue walking with Sara and Caleb. Eric will probably stay with them as well, since that's still his assignment as far as he's concerned. And Charles will come along behind you. To any observers it will look like he's just doing his job.\" He turned and looked back at the camp, where the others were beginning to stir. \"I suspect Adam will wait to see if the plan with Charles works before he tries something else, but we want to cover all our bases just in case.\"\n\n\"That's a good idea,\" Zinovy said.\n\n\"There's no reason you can't continue with the defense training. It won't look suspicious, since we've been doing it off and on for a while now. Accelerate it if you can. We need to be as prepared as possible when it comes time for hand-to-hand combat.\"\n\nZinovy nodded again. He was not keen on this part of the plan, but it made sense. The quiet presence in his heart stirred once more, but Zinovy pushed it aside. \"Anything else?\" he asked.\n\n\"I can't think of anything more at this point. But let's keep working on it.\" Archie ran his hand over his hair. \"Damn, it's so exasperating. No weapons. No way to fortify ourselves. No place to hide, even.\"\n\n\"I still think we should go after the spy.\" Helpless impatience gave unusual force to Zinovy's words. \"If we capture him we can question him—get more information about the movement.\"\n\n\"Then when the next guard comes to relieve him and finds him gone, Adam will have access to information about us—information we don't want him to have yet.\"\n\n\"We can capture the other guard too. Then he won't be able to report back to Adam.\"\n\n\"And when neither of them return they'll know for sure we're onto them and we'll have the whole crew down on us.\" Archie studied the ground. \"I can't figure out why Adam hasn't done that already. They have the manpower. What's stopping him from charging in and taking the child by force? It doesn't make sense.\"\n\nThen, looking up, he said, \"No, Zinovy. We need to hold off another day or two, at least. The action will come soon enough. We need time to prepare before it gets here.\" They turned toward the camp, moving up the gentle slope of the riverbank as Simon and Ruben were coming down. They waited for the boys to pass, then Archie asked, \"How's the training coming?\"\n\nZinovy gave a brief report—a discouraging one. Archie frowned, but there was nothing more Zinovy could say—nothing he could do. The boys would never be military men. He went back to his bed and packed up, then went to get something to eat. Sara and Caleb sat under a tree in the middle of the camp finishing their breakfast. Carter sat nearby.\n\nSoon Archie called them all together and they trekked off on their day's journey. Zinovy fell in beside Charles, then worked his way forward until he was beside Caleb.\n\nThe boy glanced up, his face full of sunshine, and smiled. Zinovy smiled back at him, the light in the boy's face nearly dispelling the darkness of his fears, but not quite. Then he glanced up at Sara and Eric, grimaced at them over the small, tousled head, and fixed his eyes once more on the trail ahead.\n\n* * *\n\n\"Why do you work so hard at worrying?\" Sara said.\n\nShe was exasperated and Zinovy knew why. He'd been herding the two of them around for three days, dogging their steps, moving his bedroll as close to them at night as he could without raising suspicions.\n\n\"I don't work at worrying,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes you do. All the time. If you can't think of anything to worry about you think until you come up with something. Why don't you just roll with it—let things happen?\"\n\nZinovy tried to control his irritation. \"It's called being prepared,\" he said pointedly. \"It's called planning ahead. If you don't plan ahead you're caught off guard and bad things happen.\"\n\nThose deep blue eyes bored into him. He'd begun to expect this kind of look from her, and faced it with a mixture of dread and awe.\n\n\"No, it's not, Zinovy. It's not called being prepared. It's called being in control. You hate it when you're not in control, don't you?\"\n\nThe arrow hit its mark. \"Yes, as matter of fact I do, and I will not apologize for it. You have to be in control to make life work, young lady.\" He stopped and amended: \"No, you may not have to be in control. You can just let things damn well happen. But somebody has to be in control, or even you will not survive.\"\n\nHe jabbed a finger in her face. \"You know what your problem is? You're just plain spoiled. You never had to worry about caring for yourself. Somebody always looked after you. You lived in a protectorate, for God's sake! What do you know about being prepared, or needing to be in control?\"\n\nHis rage was fueled by worry. She had no idea. He knew his words were hurting, saw the tears smarting in her eyes, but he couldn't stop. \"You have no business telling me I should not be in control. You damn well do not know what you're talking about!\"\n\nHe heard the echo of his booming voice. He saw her stand there, watching him. The look was in her eyes again.\n\nFinally she said, \"Have you ever really been in control, Zinovy?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he declared, unaware of the hook she had buried in the bait. \"I have trained to be in control. It's how you deal with things.\"\n\nFor a blissful split-second she gave him the silent treatment, an instant's reprieve, before she said, \"Then what are you doing here, in this place?\"\n\nShe waited while the barb lodged itself, then she turned and stomped away. He watched her go until she was almost out of sight. Then he saw her shoulders slump, her head go down. Her walk slowed to a stumble. She almost tripped.\n\nThe anger in him shattered into a thousand shards and fell to the bottom of his soul. Helpless remorse took its place. How could you have done that to her? said the voice in his head. She's the last person on earth you'd want to hurt. And suddenly he knew it was true. He stood staring after her, stunned by the revelation. Finally he turned and walked away in the opposite direction.\n\nHe needed a break. Caleb was safe, sitting under a tree at the center of camp playing his new flute, putting on a performance for the rest of the crew. Zinovy pressed through the shrubbery that formed a hedge marking the eastern boundary of their camp, being careful to avoid the north side, where the Regulus guard was probably hiding, and headed upriver. The inactivity was killing him. For the last three days he'd done nothing but wait and worry. He looked constantly over his shoulder, trying to avoid the spy he longed to chase down and throttle.\n\nHe hadn't slept well for the last two nights. Maybe that was why he was so irritable. He stopped on the riverbank a few yards past the hedge, put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the sparkling water. The current was gentle here, the ripples barely strong enough to indicate the direction the water flowed. He studied his reflection, noting the three-day's growth of beard, the haggard lines around his eyes. Then there was another rippled face beside his, smiling back at him, looking for all the world as if there were nothing to be worried about.\n\nHe glanced up at Elan and frowned.\n\n\"What's the matter, Zinovy?\"\n\nZinovy contemplated his reply. His first instinct was to tell the man it was none of his business, but it was no use. Elan didn't notice any boundaries between his business and anyone else's. He decided to speak the truth instead.\n\n\"These days it's like I'm on a roller coaster,\" he said. \"I'm constantly being yanked back and forth from fear to anger to astonishment and back to fear again.\"\n\n\"Is that bad?\"\n\nZinovy turned to stare at Elan. \"Of course it's bad,\" he replied.\n\n\"Why?\" Elan asked.\n\nZinovy floundered. The answer didn't come readily to mind. Finally he remembered. \"Because human beings should not operate on knee-jerk emotions. Life needs to be approached rationally.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Elan responded with raised eyebrows. It was more of an exclamation than a question.\n\n\"Yes. Life requires stability and down-to-earth common sense. We weren't meant to flail around at the whim of fate.\"\n\nElan studied him through the glimmering air. \"Zinovy, dead people are stable, and nobody's more down to earth than they are. Are you sure that's what you want for yourself?\"\n\nHe paused as if it weren't a rhetorical question. When Zinovy didn't answer, he went on. \"Your emotional roller coaster, as you call it, is a sign of life. It's a little uncomfortable right now. Newborn babies are uncomfortable when they first see the light of the outside world. But it's a good kind of discomfort.\"\n\nThey stood silently together, Zinovy fighting the idea. He always seemed to be fighting ideas, and he was tired of it. Finally he spoke: \"I don't think I'm cut out for that kind of life. It's too draining.\"\n\nElan smiled at him. There was an irritating twinkle in his eyes. \"It doesn't have to be draining, my friend. You just have to give up some control, that's all.\"\n\nZinovy didn't want to go there. He'd been round that barn before. He glared at Elan, then turned and tromped off at a determined pace. He pushed back through the hedge into the compound and kept going. He walked right through the middle of the flute concert, past Caleb, without even seeing him.\n\n* * *\n\n\"What's wrong with Zinovy?\" Caleb reigned his imaginary horse in beside Sara, who was inspecting a tree so full of good fruit it was hard to decide what to pick. She made her choice and picked another for Caleb as she responded.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"His things are down again.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"His things are down. Whenever someone's things are down it means something's wrong.\"\n\n\"I don't understand, Caleb. What are you talking about?\"\n\nThe boy sighed in exasperation. \"See, like this.\" He scrunched his face into a grimace, bringing his eyebrows down to a point just above his nose.\n\nIn spite of herself, Sara laughed. Caleb had the knack of making her laugh even when she was determined not to.\n\nShe was determined not to, at the moment, because there was nothing to laugh about. She was a spoiled brat and he was a jerk. That was all there was to it. \"And never the twain shall meet,\" she quoted softly to herself. Why that should bother her she hadn't gotten around to figuring out yet.\n\n\"I don't know, Caleb. He gets that way sometimes, you know. It can't be too serious. He'll probably get over it soon.\"\n\nCaleb frowned. \"What's 'probably?'\"\n\n\"Probably?\" she repeated. \"Do you mean the word?\"\n\nThe boy nodded.\n\nShe pursed her lips. \"Gosh. I'm not sure how to explain it.\" Finally she squatted and looked into his face. \"Probably is kind of like—like it's a smart guess that something is true. You know? It's a smart guess that Zinovy will quit worrying soon because there's nothing to worry about any more.\" She stood up again. \"Maybe that's the problem. He's worrying because there's nothing to worry about.\" She took a bite of her fruit.\n\nThe question creases on Caleb's face deepened. Now his 'things' were down. \"But how can you worry if there's nothing to worry about?\"\n\n\"It's beyond me, young man,\" she answered, between chomps. The puzzled look remained. She stooped, tweaked his ear, and explained: \"I don't know, honey. But Zinovy will find a way, I'm sure.\"\n\n* * *\n\n\"Why are we stopping here?\" Zinovy asked.\n\nThey'd traveled half an hour after supper. They could have gone another two hours at least. Minutes ago they'd moved out of a mixed forest of tall trees and dense shrubs into a broad meadow, dotted with flowers, that extended all the way from the riverbank to a distant copse of trees several miles to the north.\n\nHe looked over at Archie. \"There's got to be some place up river with better cover. We're too exposed here.\"\n\n\"That's why we're stopping,\" Archie said, dropping the bag of supplies on the ground and shrugging out of his backpack. \"We're exposed here, but so are they. The spy can't get close without being seen.\" He glanced around. \"And if he could get close there's no tree nearby that's high enough to run a flag up. We'll see if this stymies them some.\"\n\nHe called to Charles, who was helping Caleb off with his backpack. \"Round everybody up, will you? We need to have a meeting.\" He turned to Zinovy. \"It's time. Charles' deadline is up. If he doesn't get Caleb to them tonight they'll be coming after him. We have to inform the others.\"\n\nWithin minutes the crew had gathered under the larger of the only two trees standing in the area. Archie began without preliminaries: \"Folks, we've got a problem. A serious one. We've been holding off telling you, hoping we could come up with some solution, but time's run out and we need to let you know what's going on. It's going to take everything we've got and then some to deal with this situation.\"\n\nAll eyes were on the commander. Zinovy glanced past Sara, sitting cross-legged in the center of the group with Caleb in her lap, and scanned the horizon, looking for furtive movement. They were okay until morning, he reasoned. Adam would expect Charles to do the abduction tonight after everyone had gone to bed. But the hairs on the back of his neck refused to lie down. He would be scanning constantly from now on, waiting for the inevitable ripple of movement in the distance that would signal their coming.\n\nArchie was speaking to him. \"Zinovy, would you take Caleb for a walk please? Maybe down by the river. There's no need for him to be at this meeting. And, Michelle, you can take Jenna and Peter as well. Stay close by, but I'd rather the children weren't here. No, Mark. You need to stay,\" he said as Mark stood to go with his family.\n\nZinovy gathered the small brood and wandered off toward the river. Archie's decision to stop here for the night was a good one. Even from the river he could see a great distance in every direction.\n\n\"Can I play a song, Zinovy?\" Caleb asked.\n\nZinovy nodded and the group settled down on the bank. Michelle moved over and sat beside Zinovy. \"What's up?\" she asked.\n\n\"The boy is in danger,\" he told her quietly. She gasped and glanced toward Peter. \"No, not your boy. Caleb.\"\n\n\"Oh no. What kind of danger?\"\n\nHe wondered if he should wait and let Mark explain, but it might be difficult for Mark to do that with the children in bed next to them so he told her, speaking in a whisper.\n\nShe turned white. \"What will we do?\"\n\nZinovy shrugged his shoulders. \"All we can do is keep watch and try to protect him when they come. We're at a loss. The situation is very grave.\"\n\nIn a few minutes Mark came to collect the children, his face grim. Michelle ran to his arms. \"Zinovy, Archie wants you back in the meeting,\" Mark said. \"Come on, kids. Yes, you too, Caleb. It's time for bed. You'll sleep with us tonight.\" They gathered their family and headed back to the center of the compound, bedding down in plain sight of the others, but out of earshot. Zinovy watched them settle, then returned to the meeting.\n\nArchie looked up as he approached. \"Zinovy, we're going to need those hands of yours. You're all we've got now. Is there anything we can do to back you up?\"\n\nAll eyes were on Zinovy. They waited. Finally he shrugged and said, \"Not that I can think of at the moment.\"\n\nArchie turned back to the crew. \"What we can do is be on guard so Zinovy's warned when they come. Mike and Alex, you're on duty tonight, right? I want you stationed along the riverbank. There's a chance they'll use that avenue to come at us. Keep watch both ways and across on the other side as well. Charles and Zinovy will stand guard too. Zinovy, you two can set up on the north side of camp.\"\n\nThey discussed the procedure for dinner, which would be gathered from the few shrubs that dotted their campground. No one was to venture farther tonight. Then Archie wrapped things up: \"Any questions? All right then, meeting's adjourned. The rest of you try to get some sleep. You'll be needing it.\"\n\nThe crew scattered, finding beds near the middle of the compound. No one wanted privacy tonight. Zinovy turned to walk away and Archie stepped in beside him. \"I need a word with you,\" he said. Zinovy glanced at him, then looked down and continued walking.\n\nArchie grabbed an arm and stopped him. \"What's with you?\" he demanded. \"I thought you were used to this kind of thing. It's a unique situation, but it can't be much different from what you were used to in the old days. You're trained for warfare.\"\n\nZinovy said nothing.\n\n\"Does this have anything to do with that red book?\"\n\nStill no response.\n\n\"Damn it, Zinovy. That religious crap is going to be the death of us. It's taken the fight out of everyone. How can I defend this crew if everyone is squeamish about fighting? We're in a desperate situation. It doesn't get any worse than this.\"\n\nArchie was right. Zinovy made a decision. He turned and looked the commander in the eye. \"I'll do what I can. We must protect the boy. I won't let him be taken.\" The chin under the mouth that spoke the words was firm. Zinovy had been in this place before. This time it would not happen. This time the chick would be saved.\n\nArchie sighed his relief. \"Good. I needed to hear that.\" Then he went off to his bed.\n\n* * *\n\nCharles and Zinovy stood in the evening light looking out across the meadow. \"I wonder what they're doing about the guard tonight. There's no place he could hide for miles,\" Charles said.\n\n\"He has to be somewhere nearby. They're expecting you to find him tonight.\"\n\nCharles nodded. \"I wish we'd stuck to our normal routine and camped in a grove with a few trees around it. Then we'd at least have some idea where he's coming from. This way he could come from anywhere.\"\n\nThey continued to stand, scanning the area, for several more minutes. Then Charles tramped over to a large hummock and sat down. \"We might as well settle in for the long haul. Should we take turns watching or both do it together? We might be better to take turns. I don't know if I'll be able to stay awake the whole time.\"\n\nZinovy looked over at him. Almost, he felt sorry for the man. His attitude had changed since he'd been back. The grumpiness was gone, replaced by a seriousness Zinovy had never seen in him before. He wandered over and sat down beside Charles, keeping an eye on the dim line of the horizon as he settled back to watch and wait.\n\nAfter a while, Zinovy spoke: \"You were married once, weren't you?\"\n\nCarter didn't answer right away. \"Yeah,\" he finally said. He slumped in his seat and was quiet.\n\n\"And you had children?\" Zinovy prodded. He was curious.\n\nCharles roused himself. \"Yes. I mean, no. None that grew up.\" Again he was silent. Zinovy wasn't sure the conversation would continue, but eventually Charles went on. \"Elaine wanted kids real bad, but it didn't happen. We were married six years. She dragged me around to every fertility clinic in Maryland and the D.C. area. I produced more sperm samples than a horny gorilla, and spread them over a wider territory too.\" He grinned, picturing the analogy. \"She finally found someone who figured out what was wrong. Something with her tubes or whatever, and all of a sudden there was a baby.\" He squinted, and Zinovy was surprised to see a gleam that looked like moisture in the slits between his eyelids. This was a side to Charles he hadn't suspected.\n\nBut the baby had not grown up. After a while Zinovy asked, gently this time, \"What happened to the baby?\"\n\nCharles looked up at Zinovy then. His eyes were soft, reflecting a tenderness that deepened Zinovy's amazement. \"She died,\" Charles said simply. \"She wasn't a baby. She was seven years old.\"\n\nZinovy shut his mouth. He would not ask more. But Charles, looking at the ground now, was still talking. \"She was abducted from the school playground after school. I went to pick her up and she wasn't there. We never saw her alive again. It was weeks before we found the body. Dumped in a drainage ditch beside a highway over the state line.\"\n\nStill Zinovy was silent, but Charles obviously didn't expect a response. He was talking as if to himself now. \"It was my fault. I was late going for her. I'd been writing—working on a report—and the deadline was looming. I said to myself, 'I'll just do this last section and then I'll go.'\"\n\nThe minutes dragged on. The dusk deepened. Zinovy's eyes were on the horizon, alert for any movement, but the image of the little girl's body, broken and deserted in the ditch, kept flashing like a pulsing quasar through his mind. He imagined the waiting of the parents, for weeks—the hoping that she might turn up. Then the final despair.\n\nThere was a sigh beside him. \"It was hard,\" Charles said. \"My wife went nuts. At first, of course, she blamed me. Fair enough. I blamed myself.\" He paused again. After a minute he looked up and squinted into the distance. \"Then she changed.\"\n\nZinovy glanced at Charles' face. His brows were down and he was chewing on his upper lip. \"She became religious,\" he went on. \"Ended up blaming herself. She had been too demanding of God, she decided. Had muscled into his territory, tried to do things her own way. She got all repentant and then in the end she consoled herself with the thought that she would see our little girl again in heaven.\"\n\n\"But it was nonsense to blame herself. It's natural to want a child.\"\n\n\"Yeah. She knew that, but the way she went about it was bad, she said. She was too insistent I guess, or something. Anyway, she tried to get me into the religious thing too—tried to get me to go to church with her. She'd give me books to read.\"\n\nCharles was silent for a long time, his eyes focused on the distant luminescence. Eventually he turned back to Zinovy and finished his story.\n\n\"I'm a scientist, see. I finally told her, 'Look, I believe in what I see. If your God is real he can come down and stand right here in front of me. If he does that then I'll believe.'\"\n\n\"What did she say to that?\"\n\nCharles chuckled. \"She looked at me for a second, then she nodded. 'Okay,' she said. 'I'll see if I can arrange it.'\"\n\nA distant rumble sounded in the east. \"That's the thunder I told you about,\" Charles said. Zinovy stood and walked toward the sound, straining his eyes for movement in the distance. Shimmering waves of color, undisturbed by the noise, rippled along the horizon as usual.\n\n\"So finish your story,\" Zinovy said, walking back.\n\nCharles crossed his arms again. \"That's about it. She backed off after that. Then, a few weeks later, the quake came. It happened on a Sunday—some special holy day, named after a tree, or something. Palm Sunday, that was it. She went to church that morning, and the whole building collapsed on top of the worshippers.\"\n\nAgain Zinovy remembered that earthquake—the Great Quake, they had called it. Bizzare. Cataclysmic. Worldwide. Millions of lives had been lost. The same one had taken Eric's girlfriend, probably not far away from where Charles' wife had been buried. It had rattled the barracks where Zinovy was stationed in Tula.\n\n\"Did you recover the body?\" he asked after a time.\n\nCharles shook his head. \"There weren't enough people left. It was a horrendous job just dealing with the bodies that were exposed. The rest of them . . . \" he paused. \"The rest we had to leave under the rubble.\"\n\nThey sat, Zinovy remembering the news reports that came in after the communication systems were repaired. \"I'm sorry,\" he said, finally.\n\nCharles shrugged, rubbed the corner of his eye with his sleeve, and scanned the perimeter. \"If we can save Caleb—that will be good. I don't want him to go through what she did.\" Zinovy knew he was thinking of the broken body of his child.\n\nThey sat in silence. Eventually Charles began to snore. Zinovy glanced over at him, propped against the hummock, arms resting limp by his side. He let the man sleep until his own eyes began to glaze over. When he caught himself nodding off, he woke Charles and went to sleep himself.\n\nHe dreamed that night. They weren't good dreams.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE\n\n\"He has betrayed us.\"\n\nHaidar stood with Adam, staring out across the plain. It was early morning. The guard had just returned without Charles or the child.\n\n\"Maybe he couldn't find our man,\" Adam reasoned. \"It's strange they camped out in the open. That's not their normal modus operandi.\"\n\nHaidar shook his head. \"The guard could have been found. The American knew the general direction. If he had meant to, he would have joined us. We have been tricked.\"\n\n\"Who's out there now? Is it James or Lance? Let's ride out and have a chat with him.\"\n\n\"They will be moving.\"\n\n\"I don't know. Their crew might stay put today. If they're onto us they'll be thinking defensively. Either way, we need to go check out the situation.\"\n\nTwo hours later they rode back into the compound. They'd had their chat. The Gaia crew had been moving. They were moving fast.\n\n\"All right,\" Adam said. \"On to plan B. Have you got the Bedouins on board?\"\n\nHaidar shrugged. \"Some of them. One raiding party is organized. The others, they are stubborn.\"\n\nAdam swore. \"This superstition thing is going to end up being more trouble than it's worth.\"\n\n\"Once we have the child it will be over.\"\n\nAdam glared at the tall man by his side. \"It had better be,\" he said. After a moment he spoke again. \"We can't count on the Bedouins. You go with them. Take one or two of the best ones into the camp. And make sure you bring the boy back alive.\"\n\n* * *\n\nArchie had changed his mind. \"We're going to be as unpredictable as possible from now on. We'll go hard and fast today, but if we find a good spot, we'll stop early. It's better, tonight, I think, to seek cover. Heavy cover. They're onto us by now. They'll attack for sure. If we can find an area with dense shrubbery we can burrow into the brush. When they come they'll have to search for us.\"\n\nHe and Zinovy walked at the head of the line. Grace, Sara and Caleb plodded behind them. Eric and Charles brought up the rear behind Mark and his family. The boys marched in formation on either side of the line. It was a compact group. Looking back, Zinovy could see Eric's red head bobbing up and down less than fifty feet away. Everyone was on high alert. They were taking no chances. Zinovy tripped over Aslan, who was running circles around their feet, and swore under his breath.\n\nThey stopped for a brief lunch and moved on. In the early afternoon they ran into a massive forest of tropical vegetation that slowed them down considerably.\n\n\"I don't like this. There's too much of the wrong kind of cover here. They could be right on us and we wouldn't know,\" Archie said. But there was nothing to do but push through it. \"At least we have the river on our right,\" he said. \"That's some protection. They'll probably come from the north.\"\n\nEventually they came out into a large clearing and Archie breathed a sigh of relief. Zinovy craned his neck and squinted over Archie's head. Visibility was about a hundred yards to the north. It wasn't enough. They pressed on.\n\nIn another mile or two the clearing expanded, spreading out into a vast plain, visible for miles. \"This is good,\" Archie said. \"Now all we need is some local cover.\" They found it after another three miles. A small forest, trees sparsely scattered, with large, dense clusters of low-lying shrubbery throughout and the river immediately on the right.\n\nArchie turned and called a halt. \"Eric, I want you and Charles to move off toward the edge of those trees over there. Check the perimeter. Keep low, and watch for movement of any kind. Conrad, you and Emery go with them.\"\n\nThen he turned to the others. \"Quickly—before they have time to establish the watch. I want each of you to take cover in one of these shrubs. Mark, there's one over there that looks like it could handle all four of you. You take that one. Sara, you and Caleb come here. I want you as close to the center of the group as possible. Can you climb under here? Do it now.\"\n\nSara protested, squirming in her discomfort. \"Okay,\" he said. \"Go quickly and do your business. But forget the river and don't go hunting around for food. You can find something to eat inside your boudoir this evening. I want everyone out of sight as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"And keep quiet,\" he added. \"We're going to lie low and wait for morning.\"\n\nZinovy moved to the river, its waters rolling gently across a broad expanse to the other side. He scanned the opposite bank. Nothing moved but the glittering air. It was quiet. Too quiet. He turned back to the campsite and Archie beckoned to him.\n\n\"Simon and Ruben are on guard duty tonight, and Conrad and Emery as well. What do you think? Will that be enough?\"\n\n\"We should augment,\" Zinovy said. \"I would do it, but I was on again last night and I'm so tired I won't be able to stay awake. I thought I'd bed down with Sara and the boy.\"\n\n\"That's good,\" Archie said. \"We'll reinforce with Graham, I think. He's been off duty the longest.\"\n\nThe scouts returned. \"Nothing that we could see,\" Eric said. \"If they're coming, they're still many clicks away. We could see at least a kilometer toward their camp.\"\n\nAnd so they turned in.\n\nZinovy crawled in behind Sara. She was on her knees in the close quarters, getting Caleb settled. \"Move over,\" he said.\n\nShe turned, Aslan in her arms. \"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"I'm sleeping here tonight.\" She looked at him for a moment. \"Don't stare like that. It's necessary.\" He inclined his head toward Caleb.\n\nShe turned back and tucked the lion into the crook of Caleb's arm. \"Go over on the other side of him,\" Zinovy said. \"I'll sleep on this side, so.\"\n\nThey settled down, Sara on the far side and Zinovy near the place he'd entered the bush, each with an arm draped over the boy who was already snoring quietly.\n\nIt was strange to Zinovy, being so close to the girl in this manner. Their arms nearly touched—hers across the boy's shoulder—his across the back. \"I've got to get some sleep tonight,\" he said to her. \"I was on watch last night. If you hear something and I don't, wake me.\" He saw her dark head nod in the dim light. It was his last observation until he heard Michelle scream.\n\nThe scream was long and shrill. It brought Zinovy upright instantly. He'd forgotten where he was. His head crashed against the low ceiling and his hair tangled in the branches, holding him prisoner for the one brief moment that might have saved Graham's life. He would agonize over that later.\n\nHe reached up and yanked against the tangle of vines, ripping hair and scalp until finally he was free. By the time he'd scrambled out of the thicket the others were already on the scene.\n\nA few meters away, Michelle sat on the ground, weeping uncontrollably. Grace held her, rocking back and forth in her efforts to bring comfort. Mark was nowhere to be seen.\n\n\"He took off after the children,\" Conrad said.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Zinovy demanded.\n\n\"They've been kidnapped,\" Emery said.\n\n\"Where are Simon and Ruben—and Graham?\"\n\nEmery shrugged. \"We don't know. Simon and Ruben were over on that side.\" He pointed to the northern boundary of the compound, \"And Conrad and I were over here.\" He turned. \"Graham was back there somewhere.\" Zinovy looked around for Archie. He was gone too. \"They all went after the kidnappers,\" Emery said. \"Archie told me and Conrad to stay here with the rest.\"\n\nZinovy suddenly remembered Caleb. He whirled and looked back. Sara was peeking out of the bushes, anxiety shivering in her eyes. He turned and went to her, told her briefly what had happened. \"Stay here,\" he said. \"Get back in. Keep the boy out of sight.\"\n\n\"Oh my God,\" she said, and scrambled backwards into the bush.\n\nZinovy spoke into the branches: \"Don't move from here until I tell you. I'll be back as soon as I can.\"\n\nBut before he could follow, the others had returned. Their faces were white and grim. Zinovy took one look at Archie's blood-spattered shirt and blanched.\n\n\"They're all gone,\" Archie said quietly. \"We didn't find the twins or the children. Graham . . . \" He paused, swallowing hard, \"Graham is dead.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThey buried the body. It was not an easy task. They had no shovels this time. They dug like dogs, using crude wooden spades to pitch the sod behind them.\n\nWhile the boys dug the grave, Zinovy went with Eric to the scene of the slaughter. They wrapped Graham in his own bedroll, being careful to hold the head in place. Zinovy took one last look at the deep slash through the throat, and the face, wiped clean, now, of the anguish that must have filled his last moments.\n\nThat night was an endless ordeal. Zinovy didn't sleep. He sat against an olive tree listening absently to an orchestra of night sounds. The low grumbling of a lioness, settling her pride in for the night. The quavering bleat of a lamb somewhere in the distance, calling for its mother. The sweet song of a nightingale singing to a morning that promised no peace. Through it all, like the first violin carrying the melody, throbbed the sobbing of a mother who had lost her two children for the second time in three months.\n\nMorning came and there was no word from the kidnappers. It was not a good sign. Zinovy, the bright vision of Graham's spilled blood still haunting his memory, resigned himself to the fact that the others were lost to them. The horrible vision of four bodies lying bloody and heartless somewhere in a field of flowers flashed across his mind. He thrust it away. His only consolation was that Caleb might now be safe. Adam must have settled for other sacrifices.\n\nHe stood beside the tree that had been his sentry post all night, scanning the glimmering canopy that crowned the distant horizon. Nothing. He looked around at the group. Archie sat under a thornless acacia tree with Grace, trying to plan their next move. Some of the boys listened absently to the debate, silent in their grief. The rest hunkered down, sitting alone, staring into space. Mark consoled Michelle as best he could. Eric and Charles stood vigil over Sara and Caleb. The boy, unnaturally sobered by the atmosphere around him, played quietly with Aslan.\n\nZinovy sighed. He could stand it no longer. He needed a duty. He strode over to Archie. \"I'm going to scout around,\" he said. Archie nodded and Zinovy took off. There had to be an enemy guard somewhere. Adam had his victims, but he would still be keeping an eye on them.\n\nAfter two hours of circling the camp, creeping through underbrush, studying every possible vantage point of the enemy, he turned up empty handed. It was another bad sign, but everything was a bad sign at this point.\n\nStill restless, he ventured several hundred feet out into the meadowland to the north, looking one last time for evidence—a discarded red bandana perhaps, or a gouge in the earth where a spy might have burrowed. Then he turned around and headed back to camp. Fifty paces from the trees surrounding the compound he heard the sounds. He stopped abruptly, then he began to run.\n\n* * *\n\nRuben groaned and tried to roll over onto his back. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was. When he did remember he groaned again.\n\nSimon. Where's Simon? With difficulty, Ruben lifted his head and looked around. Something was pinning him down, and something else was blocking his view. He called out to his brother, then collapsed, breathless, and tried to still the panic. Why wasn't Simon answering?\n\nHe took a deep breath and willed his heart to be quiet. The feeling had returned to his limbs, but they were useless to him. He lifted his head once more and tried to orient himself. He lay in a small hollow, half buried in knee-deep moss. He could see nothing beyond the green, soft walls of his prison. It was all he could do to keep his face free for breathing. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet were bound at the ankles, and every bone in his body ached.\n\nGradually, he became aware of distant sounds, muffled and garbled. Men were calling to each other. He couldn't understand the words. Then, without warning, rough hands snatched him from his bed and threw him onto his back. His elbow twisted under him and pain shot up his left arm. He winced and squinted up into the swarthy face of a Bedouin warrior.\n\nThere were two of them. They grinned and jabbered to each other—two or three unintelligible sentences—then they hauled him to his feet and dragged him off across the plain, oblivious to any damage their rough handling might be doing to his injured elbow or his bound limbs.\n\nRuben gritted his teeth and craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse of the campsite they were approaching. The compound bustled with activity, but all he could see were brown faces and white flowing robes. No sign of Simon, or of Jenna and Peter.\n\nAgain, Ruben willed his anxious mind to rest. They had to be somewhere. But the memory of the large scimitar sweeping across Graham's throat and the blood gushing from his body sent spasms of fear through his pounding heart. He scanned the scene once more, craving some reassurance that his brother was still alive.\n\nNothing.\n\nThen Ruben found himself sprawled on the ground before a familiar face. Adam loomed, hands on hips, before him. Haidar, the large Bedouin, stood by his side. Ruben studied the man. Was it he who had ordered the kidnapping? How could this civilized person be a part of all that had happened last night?\n\nAs if in response to the unspoken question, Adam smiled at Ruben. There was sympathy and understanding in his eyes, but he did nothing to relieve the pain of Ruben's awkward position on the grass at his feet.\n\n\"Hello, Ruben,\" he said. The voice was calm, controlled.\n\nRuben shook his head, trying to dispel the confusion—trying to reconcile the incongruity between his barbarous environment and the courteous face of the cultured man in front of him. He looked up at the Bedouin. The Bedouin had to be the one behind this.\n\nFinally Ruben found his voice. \"Where's my brother?\" he croaked.\n\nAdam smiled again. \"Of course. You're worried about him. You don't need to be. He's fine. And so are the children.\"\n\nA wave of relief washed over Ruben. He collapsed, fighting the tears that smarted behind his eyelids.\n\nAdam spoke again, this time to Haidar. \"He'll be the one to do it, I think. Take him to the others.\"\n\nHaidar spoke to the Bedouins standing over Ruben and they hauled him up once more and dragged him off to a clump of stubby trees near what appeared to be the center of the compound. Ruben glimpsed a circle of bushes—the kind the Gaia crew used as seats. A wooden clipboard full of papers had been tossed carelessly on top of the nearest one. That had to be central command.\n\nOne more crude wrench of his shoulder and Ruben was on the ground again. This time he landed to a chorus of relieved voices.\n\n\"Ruben,\" Simon shouted. \"You're alive! I thought you'd . . . \" his voice trailed off.\n\nSimon's hands, like Ruben's, were tied behind him and his ankles were swollen around the vines that kept him from hobbling away. The children's hands had been tied in front and looked to be looser.\n\nThe bittersweet relief of their reunion quickly dissolved. There was no doubt they were in grave danger. Ruben pulled himself up beside Simon and looked toward the compound where Adam and Haidar were now seated, talking.\n\nJenna started to cry.\n\n\"Shhh,\" Ruben said. \"I want to hear what they're saying.\"\n\nHe listened, straining to hear the quiet voices, catching only part of the conversation, but what he heard was revealing. When the two had finished talking, Ruben stored the information in the back of his mind and turned to his brother.\n\n\"Did you hear anything before I came? What are they planning?\" But before Simon could answer, Haidar spoke to a burly Bedouin who was walking through the compound and Ruben was hauled before the Regulus leader again.\n\n\"I've been consulting Haidar,\" Adam began. \"I have to warn you. I said your brother and the children were safe, but the truth is, they are not totally out of danger.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"There is tension in this camp. You will have noticed the Bedouin warriors.\"\n\nRuben nodded. How could he not have noticed? They'd been dragging him around all morning.\n\nAdam went on: \"They're an uncivilized lot and they're out for blood. So far we've been able to hold them back, but they're determined to have their way. Eventually it's going to mean sacrifice, I'm afraid.\"\n\nRuben blanched. \"You mean—\"\n\nAdam shook his head. \"It doesn't have to be your brother. He might be spared. You all will be spared if our plans work.\" He paused and studied the ground. Then he looked up, worry in his face. \"I have to tell you, much of the hope for their survival rests with you, Ruben,\" he said. \"Let me explain.\"\n\nThe flesh on Ruben's arms tingled as he listened to Adam's plan. It was not going to work. Archie would never go for it. But what else could he do? He'd have to give in. Ruben's anguish for Simon brought the perspiration to his brow. \"Can I see him again?\"\n\n\"You can see him. But first we need your assent. We must make sure the plan is in place. You understand what you must do, don't you?\"\n\nRuben nodded.\n\nAdam motioned to Haidar. \"Tell them to cut him loose.\"\n\nHaidar said something to the Bedouin warriors and one of them reached down and sliced the vines from Ruben's wrists and his ankles. Fire flashed through his hands and feet as the blood came rushing back. He groaned and his shoulders creaked as he brought his arms around and began massaging his wrists.\n\nAdam gave him a minute to recover, then he said, \"Tell me. Repeat the instructions. We need to make sure you remember everything.\"\n\nRuben dragged his mind back to the conversation he'd just had with Adam. \"I have to return to camp. I have to tell them they can have the others back safe if they give you Caleb.\"\n\nAdam nodded. \"And how is this trade to be arranged?\"\n\nRuben sighed. \"There's a big rock ahead. They are to take Caleb there and leave him. You'll make sure the others are sent back to camp as soon as you see he's there.\"\n\n\"That's right. And where, exactly, is the rock? We don't want any confusion here.\"\n\n\"It's two days' journey from where they are now. North, in the middle of a big meadow, about 500 yards east of the river.\"\n\n\"That's right. You can't miss it. It's a large rock and the landscape is clear for miles in that area. You'll be able to see it long before you reach the end of the second day's journey.\"\n\nRuben moaned. He knew this wasn't going to be as easy as Adam made it sound. Archie wouldn't give in to kidnappers' demands. He looked at the Regulus leader and the doubt must have shown on his face.\n\n\"This has to work, Ruben. If it doesn't, you might as well say good-bye to your brother now, because you'll never see him again.\"\n\nThe thought was unbearable. He and Simon shared everything. They thought the same thoughts. They finished each other's sentences. Simon's death would be harder for him to endure than his own. He had to make this work. He sat up straight and blinked at Adam once more.\n\nThe Regulus leader continued his interrogation: \"Now, tell me the deadline. When is Caleb to be there?\"\n\n\"We're to take him to the rock by dusk two days from now.\"\n\n\"You will go back today—this evening. You will tell the crew they must travel tomorrow and the next day. That second evening you will deliver the boy.\"\n\nRuben nodded.\n\nAdam was quiet for a minute, letting the seriousness of the situation sink in.\n\n\"I only have so much control, you see. I can hold the others off for a couple of days, but after that they'll take matters into their own hands. I cannot take responsibility for what will happen to your brother or the other children if the boy is not on the rock in two days.\" He caught Ruben's eyes and held them. \"You saw what happened to your colleague—the one who tried to rescue you?\"\n\nRuben swallowed and nodded.\n\n\"They're a violent people. We hope to change that. But for now we must operate within our present limitations. You see that, don't you?\"\n\nRuben nodded one last time.\n\n\"You have your compass?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You'll find the camp due south. I'll leave you to it then. Get going. I'll see you at the rock in two days' time.\"\n\n* * *\n\nHaidar spoke: \"I do not understand why you gave them an extra day.\"\n\nAdam stood looking into the distance, marking the speed of the boy's running steps. \"We have plenty of time.\"\n\n\"But to give time to the enemy—that is foolishness.\"\n\nAdam smiled. \"Your thinking is archaic, Haidar. In the past, battles were fought between enemies whose strength was more or less equal. In the past it was important to move with speed—to push the battle lines relentlessly.\"\n\nHe turned to his friend. \"Time is less important in this new world, haven't you noticed?\" Then he looked back to the place where Ruben's frantic feet had disappeared into the trees. \"Time will not help them. There's nothing they can do. We'll get what we want in the end.\"\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy burst through the trees, breathing hard from the surge of adrenaline, and found the camp abuzz. The crew hovered over Ruben, whose voice Zinovy had heard in the distance. The young man spoke now in hushed tones. Zinovy had missed much of his report.\n\n\"They want Caleb. They don't want the others.\"\n\nArchie interrupted him. \"I don't understand why they haven't stormed the camp and taken the boy. They must know how vulnerable we are.\"\n\n\"They've tried that,\" Ruben said.\n\n\"How do you know?\"\n\n\"I overheard Adam and Haidar talking about it. Apparently they've been sending raiding parties out all along. They sent the last one in the middle of the night—the night Charles was supposed to bring him out. Every time no one returned. Well, no, the last time, apparently one guy made it back. He had some garbled story about giants or monsters or something that gobbled them up.\n\n\"And there's a mountain up ahead too. I could see it in the distance from where they had us tied up. I guess every time the raiding parties went, the mountain would rumble—like thunder—and the Arabs would freak out. They think the gods are angry—that they're killing the raiding parties—and they refused to go again.\"\n\n\"But somebody must have gotten through. Who kidnapped you three?\"\n\nRuben's face blanched. \"It was the Arab guy—Haidar. He's a brutal son of a gun. He had one other Arab with him—a big bruiser. They both had Arab-type swords—curved blades, you know. When Graham came after us, the other Arab reached over with his sword and . . . \" Ruben's report trailed off.\n\nZinovy stiffened. Archie continued the questioning: \"But why you boys? Why not just snatch Caleb?\"\n\n\"They didn't know where he was. They tried to make us tell them.\"\n\n\"But you didn't,\" Archie said.\n\nRuben swallowed hard. \"We couldn't. We didn't know which bush he was under.\"\n\n\"So how did they find the other children?\"\n\nRuben shrugged. \"I think they just picked a likely bush and went in,\" he said, shifting from one foot to the other.\n\n\"What will they do if we don't give Caleb up?\" Archie finally asked.\n\nRuben's face contorted. \"They will kill Simon.\"\n\n\"Only Simon? What about the children?\"\n\nRuben hesitated, darting a nervous glance at Mark and Michelle. \"They won't kill the kids.\"\n\n\"Oh, thank God!\" Michelle groaned, and buried her face in Mark's shirt.\n\nArchie studied the tension in Ruben's face. Finally he said, \"I see.\" He glanced over Ruben's head at Zinovy and raised his eyebrows. Zinovy nodded.\n\n\"How far away did you say this rock is?\"\n\n\"It's a two-day journey. We're supposed to take Caleb to the spot and leave him, tied up with vines, on top of the stone. When they see Caleb there, they'll let Simon and the kids go and we can all go on our way without any more trouble.\"\n\n\"All, that is, except Caleb,\" Alex said.\n\nArchie shook his head. \"We can't do that.\"\n\n\"What else can we do?\" Conrad asked.\n\n\"We could make a dummy,\" Raheem suggested. \"Dress it up in Caleb's clothes and make it look like him. Leave that on the stone.\"\n\n\"That's a stupid idea. They'd find out and be after us in a minute.\"\n\nRaheem frowned at Conrad. \"Well, do you have a better idea?\"\n\nNo one did. After another fruitless comment or two, Archie sent them all off to bed. \"Try and rest. We'll get a fresh start in the morning.\"\n\nBut Zinovy's restless mind was at work. As the others wandered away, he drew Archie aside. \"Too much planning and not enough action.\"\n\n\"What do you propose to do?\"\n\n\"I propose to take Ruben and go to this camp and check things out. We have been on the defensive too long. We need to be more proactive.\"\n\nArchie cocked his head to one side and studied Zinovy for a moment. \"And just what will you do when you get there?\"\n\n\"I don't know yet. I'll decide when we get there.\"\n\nArchie walked away, shaking his head. \"All right,\" he said. \"You go ahead. Just don't get yourself killed. We can't afford to lose anyone else.\"\n\nZinovy frowned and went off in search of Ruben.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-SIX\n\nThey'd traveled a mile, Zinovy loping along on Ruben's heels, when Ruben stopped to look at his compass.\n\n\"I think we might be going the wrong way.\"\n\nZinovy looked over the boy's shoulder. \"The compass says we're going due north. That's the right way, isn't it? You came south.\"\n\n\"Yes, but nothing looks familiar. I don't remember seeing any of this bushy stuff when I came before, and that stand of trees up ahead wasn't there, I'm sure.\"\n\nZinovy swore. The last thing they needed was to get lost. But they couldn't be lost if they'd been following the compass readings.\n\n\"We must be going right. When you came back you weren't seeing from this direction. Things look different from behind, and different at night too.\"\n\n\"I guess so. I don't know.\"\n\n\"We have to keep going. Trust the compass. It's better than trusting your feelings.\"\n\nSo they continued, through the bushes Ruben didn't recognize, through the forest he didn't remember, until finally they came out onto a plain and Ruben saw the mountain.\n\n\"Yes!\" he whooped.\n\n\"Shhh.\"\n\n\"It's okay. We're not that close yet. But that's the mountain I was telling you about. There. Did you hear the thunder? We've got to be getting closer to their compound. That's just how the mountain looked when they dragged us here.\"\n\nZinovy did hear the thunder. The sound was far away, but so deep he could feel its vibration. He could understand why the Bedouins might fear it. Something resembling fear trembled in his own chest as he stood, listening.\n\nHe shrugged the feeling off and studied the mountain. It stood in the distance, broad and flat, a giant plateau rising—how high? Maybe five thousand feet above them. The base was a good twenty or thirty miles across, stretching to the east until it appeared to be directly in the path of their journey upriver. He wondered if the river curled around it or flowed down from the top.\n\nTwo distinct ridge escarpments interrupted the deep colors of what must be vegetation that crept gracefully up the side and over the crest at the top. The lower ridge began close to the base, wrapping around from the east toward the west, making its ragged way about halfway across the face of the mountain before it petered out into a gentle hummock and vanished into a banner of deep blue and purple color on the western slopes.\n\nThe second began just above the splash of purple and blue and zigzagged east back across the side of the mountain, trailing halfway over again before it, too, smoothed out into a gently undulating ridge that beckoned, like a welcoming hand, toward the summit.\n\nAll this Zinovy took in at a glance. Ruben was now running. It was all he could do to keep up with the boy. When they reached a cluster of mango trees they slowed down, and at the far edge of the grove Ruben stopped.\n\n\"Look,\" he said, pointing through the fruit-laden branches across a broad, open meadow. \"The camp is on the other side. See? There, by those trees over there, that's where they keep the horses. The hole where Simon and the kids are is just this side of it. I can see a couple of men walking around. Must be the guards.\"\n\nZinovy estimated the compound was a good two hundred yards ahead, across an undulating plain where the grass stood waist deep in places. They were too far away to see more than vague forms moving about the camp, but the distance was to their advantage. They were unlikely to be spotted from here, and they could see enough to get an idea of the enemy position and their strength.\n\nWhat he had seen so far was disheartening. Hundreds of white-clad Bedouins swarmed around the outskirts of the compound. He squinted. If the two of them could move closer under cover of the tallest patches of greenery—\n\nRuben was impatient. \"We need to get closer. I want to see if Simon is still all right.\"\n\n\"Hold up. We'll wait until the camp goes quiet for the night. Then we'll go closer. I wish badly for a pair of field glasses.\"\n\nThey waited an hour. Gradually the dusky air grew softer and eventually movement in the camp ceased. Silence settled over the meadow, interrupted only by an occasional distant snort from the horses, or the mew of a sleepy animal bedded down in the field.\n\nZinovy had just opened his mouth to speak when a new sound—urgent and too close for comfort—sent his hand to the top of Ruben's head. They hit the ground together, Ruben's cry of surprise arrested as Zinovy's other hand came down hard over his mouth. They lay together on the soft turf, not breathing, as hurrying feet, crashing through the underbrush beside them, came and went across the meadow and over to the quiet camp asleep on the other side.\n\n\"What?\" Ruben began.\n\n\"Shhh. Wait.\" They waited until the running figure cleared the edge of the compound. Two other figures roused themselves from the command center and came to meet him.\n\n\"Where did he come from?\" Ruben asked.\n\nZinovy shook his head. \"I don't know. It's got to be their scout. How could I have missed him? I searched every inch of the ground around our camp. I could swear no one was there.\"\n\nThey watched from the cover of the trees while the three men talked. In minutes the report had been delivered. The messenger turned and began to run again, retracing his steps across the meadow, heading straight for the mango trees. Zinovy and Ruben dove into a tangle of grapevines and buried their heads. The runner sped past, so close Zinovy could feel the rush of air his heels created in the grass. Then he was gone, back in the direction of their camp.\n\nZinovy sat up and looked around. The compound across the meadow had settled again. Whatever message the runner had delivered had been digested and tucked away for future action. It was time, now, to do their own reconnaissance.\n\n* * *\n\nThey were close now—so close they could hear the sputtering snores of the bandits asleep in the meadow on the far side of the compound. So close they could count the bedrolls scattered on the ground around the command center. Eight bedrolls, all rounded, sides rising and falling with the breathing of their occupants. One of these—the largest—would be Haidar. Another was Adam. And the other six would be his personal bodyguard—the men he'd traveled with from Atlanta.\n\nSomething bothered Zinovy about the headcount. There was a puzzle here he needed to work out when he had more time. He nudged Ruben and nodded toward the string of horses tied up along the eastern boundary of the camp.\n\n\"Simon?\" Ruben whispered. Zinovy nodded, a finger to his lips. Ruben had said the hostages were kept in a depression just beyond the horses. Zinovy didn't want to disturb them. The children would be sure to cry out. But he wanted to double check their location and make sure they were alive.\n\nThey crawled carefully around the animals and past the guards, who were propped against a couple of moss mounds, chins on their chests, snoring loudly. Then they bellied up to the edge of the hole and peeked in.\n\nSimon was asleep, curled in the fetal position, his hands and feet tied in front of him now. The two children were huddled together, Peter back to back with Simon, and Jenna snuggled against him, her face resting under his chin.\n\nRuben let out a sigh. Zinovy shushed him silently. They retreated, on hands and knees, as far as the horses. Then they got to their feet. Zinovy stood surveying the center of the compound. The horse at the end of the string snorted gently in his ear. He reached up to calm him and found himself clasping a roughly woven network that covered the mouth and nose and ran up over the ears. The horse was muzzled. Of course. That was how they kept them from eating the reins.\n\nHe looked down the line of horses and, sure enough, each nose and mouth was buried in a basket made of woven vines. His hand ran up the side of the stallion's face. The animal pulled away from his touch and Zinovy's hand came away wet. He looked at the blood in the glowing light and stepped back, peering up into the horse's face. The deep brown eyes of a tall Arabian stallion, proud and untamed, looked back at him. This was Adam's mount—his mouth still bleeding from the awkward bit. Without stopping to think, Zinovy reached up and pulled the muzzle down off the stallion's face and tossed it into the brush. The horse immediately began eating his reins.\n\nThen Zinovy remembered why the headcount had disturbed him.\n\n\"Ruben,\" he whispered in the boy's ear. \"There were six men with Adam when he first came to us—only six, right?\"\n\nRuben nodded, squinting at Zinovy. \"Why?\"\n\n\"And Adam only used those six men for his scouting parties?\"\n\nAgain Ruben nodded. \"Why are you asking?\"\n\n\"There are eight bedrolls by the command center. Haidar, Adam, and six others.\"\n\n\"Yeah. That adds up.\"\n\n\"Then where did the scout come from—the guy who ran the message to Adam and then went back past us?\"\n\nRuben frowned. \"I don't know.\"\n\nThey dropped to the ground once more and began making their way back around the camp toward the grass cover. Ruben gasped.\n\n\"Shhh. What's the matter?\"\n\n\"I found something.\" Ruben lifted a bag from under his knees. Zinovy grabbed it and shoved it to the ground beside the boy. \"Keep it down, damn it,\" he hissed. He lifted his head and glanced at the two guards. They continued to snore gently.\n\nHe ran his hand over the pouch Ruben had found. \"The supplies kit,\" he whispered. So it had not been the vandals who did this thievery either. It had been Adam's crew all along. He slipped his hand into the bag. There were the two shovels and the medical kit. He felt further, but the butcher knives were not there.\n\n\"Come. We need to get out of here.\"\n\nThey were on their way back to the grove of mango trees, writhing through the tall grass on their bellies, when they heard a shout from the camp behind them.\n\n\"Hold it! Come back here!\"\n\nZinovy froze, willing even the slight movement of the grasses they were passing through to be still. He waited, his hand on Ruben's back, listening to the gaggle of voices behind him as Adam's crew woke to the cries of the two guards who had been sleeping beside the hostage pit.\n\nHis mind worked as he lay there. They would have to make a run for it, but they had no chance of getting away. The enemy had horses. He groaned. They'd been so careful. How could they have been discovered?\n\nHaidar's voice came ringing out across the meadow. \"Adam. He is yours. We must capture him.\"\n\nZinovy lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder, ready to make an instant judgment as to when they should spring and go. It was then he became aware of the pounding hooves of the horse—alone and riderless—running across the meadow toward them. Trailing ends of woven vines whipped playfully in the air over his head, tangling with his mane as he ran.\n\nThe Arabian stallion. Silently he cursed himself. He had removed the muzzle. Now the freed animal was leading the enemy right to them.\n\nZinovy ducked his head, waiting for the horse to land upon them—waiting for the guards that would come on the horse's heels—waiting for their capture and the anguish of knowing he had failed again. An involuntary prayer rose from his throat as he lay, helpless in the face of yet another impossible circumstance.\n\nThen he heard Adam's voice calling the men back. \"Let him go. He wasn't that useful anyway. I'll get another more cooperative one.\"\n\nZinovy allowed himself one breath of relief. They had seen the horse, but they hadn't seen the fugitives. And they would let the horse go.\n\nBut the horse was almost upon them and Zinovy was sure, when he came, he would stop to greet them. Someone would be sent to investigate the reason for the interruption in the stallion's headlong flight.\n\nThe horse arrived. He stopped, bowed his head and buried his nose in the crook of Zinovy's arm. There was nothing Zinovy could do but hold him and pray that the camp would not sense the cause of the animal's distraction. He looked at Ruben's white face and held his breath. The boy stared back, eyes wide with fear.\n\nFor several long minutes the two listened for sounds of pursuit, but none came. Finally they eased themselves onto their bellies and began writhing through the grass again, dragging the supplies kit with them.\n\nThey went slowly at first, inch by inch. Then foot by foot. Then yard by yard. The horse followed, seemingly unconcerned with the slowness of their pace, stopping to graze while they gained a few yards, then moving up behind them again to pause by yet another luscious clump of fodder.\n\nEventually they made it to the edge of the mango grove. Zinovy stumbled to his feet, knees shaking, and buried his hands in the horse's mane. \"You beast,\" he growled softly into the stallion's ear. \"You almost got us killed.\" And with a deep breath, he turned to Ruben.\n\n\"Get out your compass. We'll ride back to camp.\"\n\n* * *\n\nThe scouting trip had not been a great success. They knew the hostages were still alive, but they were no nearer finding a way to rescue them. They'd measured the strength of the Regulus movement, and they knew where to find them, but the number of soldiers Ruben and Zinovy had counted at the enemy camp dwarfed their small army. There was no way they could protect Caleb if Adam rushed the camp. Zinovy groaned. He had no power to defend this group of people, and he was their only military hope. His chest heaved.\n\nArchie had received them back in the early morning hours without fanfare. \"I wasn't expecting a miracle, Zinovy,\" he said when he woke to hear the report. \"I'm resigned to the fact that there's no way we can protect Caleb. I'll die trying, if it comes to that, and it probably will. One way or another, this whole experience will be over soon for all of us. Maybe it's just as well. We have no idea what's ahead anyway. The end would have to come sooner or later.\"\n\nArchie's dark pessimism was out of character. Zinovy heard him out, the hair rising on the back of his neck as he listened. The pronouncement sounded like a prophecy.\n\nAlmost, Zinovy was convinced that Archie was right. Reason certainly supported his conclusion. But somewhere along this journey reason had ceased to be the final authority for Zinovy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, or perhaps in his heart, a voice whispered, Just trust. Zinovy recognized that voice and, against all reason, his spirits lifted.\n\n* * *\n\n\"We should continue to move ahead,\" Archie said the next morning as they gathered after breakfast. \"If we move in the direction they want us to, they'll at least believe we're getting ready to comply with their wishes. As long as we look like we're complying, the hostages should be safe.\" Zinovy noted the qualifying word. He stood for the meeting. He never sat down anymore. He watched the horizon to the north as he listened to Archie's strained voice.\n\n\"Again, we'll put Caleb in the center of the group. Alex, you and Eric on either side of him today, okay? But first we're going to cross the river. I want to go up the west side today, keep the river between them and us. Let's get going.\"\n\nThey waded across the river, the stallion plodding along by Zinovy's side, nudging him in the back as they came up on the far bank, shaking his mane and whinnying as they turned north and formed their line. Adam's horse had insisted on becoming a member of the crew. He fell in beside Zinovy as if they'd been friends forever.\n\nThe horse wasn't the only one to join them on their journey. \"Do you notice how many animals we're seeing today?\" Sara said. \"It's almost like they sense something.\"\n\nA family of rabbits hopped along beside Caleb and Aslan. A large herd of water buffalo meandered contentedly along on the other side of the river, nibbling on the bright grass, keeping their distance, but staying with the travelers the whole afternoon. Then the zebras took over.\n\n\"Strange,\" Sara said. \"It's like they're on sentry duty. They relieve each other.\"\n\nAs for the birds, their chatter never ended. Zinovy wondered at how naturally life continues in the midst of tragedy. The crew trudged on, getting closer and closer to the final confrontation. Finally, just after dusk, Archie called a halt.\n\nThey camped again by the river, again in dense clusters of vegetation. Zinovy slept lightly with Sara and Caleb under a canopy of low-lying branches whose fragrant flowers assailed his senses all night long, reinforcing, somehow, the peace that insisted on covering his spirit in spite of their circumstances.\n\nIt wasn't worry that caused Zinovy to sleep lightly, but the puzzle. He could not, for the life of him, explain the seventh man in Adam's retinue. There had been six. Only six. And all had been asleep with Adam in the compound that night. He and Ruben had both counted the bedrolls twice. There had been no mistake.\n\nThe puzzle remained unsolved. In the early morning hours Zinovy finally fell into a deep sleep. He woke refreshed to Caleb's morning chatter and rose to face the day.\n\nHe went to the river, dove in, came up sputtering, wiped the water from his face, and hauled himself up onto the bank. As he clambered over the rocks, it came to him in a flash. He knew, without a doubt, where the other scout had come from. He clamped his hand over his chest and raced to the center of the compound. Then he went around collecting the boys.\n\n\"Alex, Mike, get over here. I need to talk to you. Raheem, where's Ruben?\"\n\n\"He is on the other side of the river—he and Conrad. Archie sent them to scout ahead. He wants a warning if they send someone over to check on us. He is not taking any chances.\"\n\nTaking chances. That's what Zinovy had been doing all along, and he didn't even know it. He kicked himself for the oversight.\n\nHe motioned for Emery to join them from across the compound and the boy came, chewing on his breakfast. Zinovy told them all to sit down, and then he pulled a soggy scrap of paper from his shirt pocket.\n\nHe studied their faces as he spread the damp receipt out in the palm of his hand. The writing still showed, barely. The boys all gave him blank looks, but none of them would know, yet, what the paper was or why it mattered.\n\nHe squatted down and gave the receipt to Alex who took it with a question in his eyes. \"I found this on the ground before we began the journey,\" he said. \"It belongs to one of you and I want to know who lost it.\"\n\nAlex looked at the paper. \"It's some writing. A couple of letters and some numbers. Looks like a phone number.\" He looked up at Zinovy. \"I don't know what this is. It's not mine.\"\n\nOne by one, the boys took the receipt and studied it. None of them claimed ownership, and the blank look remained in their faces until the paper came to Emery. Emery took it, studied the writing, then he turned it over and looked at the other side. \"It's a grocery receipt,\" he said. Then a light dawned in his face. \"Hey. I know whose this is.\" He turned to Raheem. \"Who would buy a diet soda and two candy bars at the same time? Who do you think?\"\n\nRaheem grinned. \"Conrad. He would do that.\" He turned to Zinovy. \"We used to tease him. He would buy a drink with no calories, so he would not gain weight. Then he would buy chocolate.\"\n\nZinovy sprang to his feet and ran for the river. Before he got there, he saw Ruben coming back, walking alone. He waited until the boy had waded across, then said, \"Where's Conrad?\"\n\n\"He went on ahead. He sent me back to report to Archie. We haven't seen a thing so far.\"\n\nZinovy slapped his knee. \"And we won't see Conrad again either,\" he muttered to himself. Then he went to tell Archie that the traitor in the camp was off to tell the enemy that they would not be rendezvousing at the large flat rock at the end of their day's journey after all.\n\n* * *\n\nArchie and Zinovy stood at the edge of their hastily constructed camp on the riverbank and looked out across the meadow at the large, flat stone that stood, bathed in dusky brightness, between the river and the Regulus camp. The mountain glowed red in the distance, its crimson light reflected on the top of the rock.\n\nThis was it. The end would come soon. Zinovy frowned as the realization hit home once more. Tonight Adam would either sacrifice Simon and sell the children to the highest bidder among the Bedouin warriors, or he would come for Caleb.\n\nThere would be more than one sacrifice, either way. None of them would give up any of the children without a fight to the death.\n\n\"Conrad will have told Adam, by now, that we're not letting Caleb go,\" Archie said.\n\nDusk had come and gone. No sign of enemy activity had interrupted the calm of the evening, but a foreboding hung over the brilliant air like a shroud. Zinovy looked around. Their camp guards were in place—five of them again tonight. They covered the whole of the face of their exposure to the north.\n\nZinovy felt strangely calm. It was the calm of a man completely helpless in an impossible situation. He thought again of Conrad. \"We should have figured it out,\" he said. \"It was Conrad who was on watch the night our knives were stolen. When I found him, he told me he'd been out chasing down the vandals, but instead he'd been leading the Regulus thugs to the supply cache.\"\n\nArchie nodded, looking out over the meadow. \"He was always missing. I was always having to ask someone where he was.\"\n\n\"Do the others know?\" Zinovy asked.\n\nArchie shook his head. \"I didn't tell them. What's the use? Conrad won't be back. He'll have filled Adam and Haidar in on all our plans by now. As if we had any.\" He sighed and looked around, checking to see that Caleb was out of sight.\n\nAt that moment the danger came.\n\nZinovy whirled at the sound—the beginning of a scream that ended in a way that froze his heart. He sped into the trees lining the riverbank. Terror strangled him—added weight to his feet. He'd heard that kind of aborted scream before, in combat. He knew the implications. He'd also recognized the voice.\n\nHe was half aware of Archie's running feet behind him and Eric's farther back. Then they reached the clearing and he saw her, sprawled like a rag doll under a willow tree. He ran to her, knowing instinctively she was dead. He gathered her limp body into his arms and a wail rose in his throat. He managed to cut it off before it left his body, but he could not control the tears that sprang to his eyes.\n\nThis moment, he knew, would be stamped on his memory forever—the most anguished moment of his life. And in that moment, much too late, he wanted to tell her how much she mattered to him. He was ready to leap out of his box into her world, but she had gone from it forever.\n\n* * *\n\nHis tears on her cheeks were the first thing Sara became aware of as she woke. She opened her eyes and saw his face, distorted in pain as he bent over her. She felt his arms tightening around her. She heard the silent wails within his throat.\n\nAt first she was confused. A mixture of sensations surged through her body. What had brought her to his arms in this way? Why was he crying? She moved against him, struggled to sit up. He loosened his hold on her, and a great well of gladness filled his eyes.\n\n\"Where am I?\" she asked. Then she remembered, and fear gripped her throat more tightly than the choking vines had done. \"Where's Caleb!\"\n\nZinovy looked at her, his face blank. The man appeared to be in shock. She grabbed his arms and shook him. \"Where is he?\" she repeated. \"Caleb—did you find him?\"\n\nInstantly she saw his eyes clear. \"Find him? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Oh, Zinovy,\" she cried. \"They stole Caleb. Adam and Haidar, they took him. They headed upriver. I tried to stop them, but Conrad . . . Zinovy, Conrad is one of them. He tried to kill me.\"\n\nShe watched the shock return to Zinovy's face. It remained for only seconds. Then his face hardened, his jaw set and the glitter in his eyes sent shivers down her spine.\n\n\"Go,\" she said. \"Go after them. Caleb—\"\n\nBut he was already off, running up the river in the direction she had pointed.\n\nSara collapsed on the mossy bank and caught her breath. It seemed she couldn't breathe deeply enough. Never had oxygen been so important to her. Then Mark was there. \"Sara, are you okay?\"\n\nShe shook her head. Her courage broke under Mark's familiar touch. She fell into his arms and burst into tears. Michelle came up and the two of them drew her to her feet and half carried her back into the compound.\n\n\"Where is everybody?\" Michelle asked. Sara shook her head. The shock, the effort to speak, her fear for Caleb, had wasted her.\n\nThen Raheem and Emery crashed through the shrubbery into the clearing. Ruben and Mike were close on their heels. \"What is happening?\" Raheem asked.\n\n\"Caleb's been stolen,\" Mark said.\n\n\"How could he? We have been on sentry duty. We saw no one.\"\n\n\"They must have come down the river. They snuck into the compound and snatched him right out from under the watch.\"\n\nSara shuddered and willed herself to be strong. \"No, no,\" she said. \"That's not how it happened. I was with Caleb. We were getting ready to dig into the bushes for the night, but Aslan had wandered away. Conrad came over and offered to help Caleb find him before we went to bed.\n\nI didn't think anything of it at first—him going off with Conrad—but something didn't feel quite right. Something told me I should go with them so I followed. I came into that clearing by the river and Adam and Haidar were there. Adam had a knife.\" She cringed. \"It was one of the butcher knives.\"\n\nSara went on. \"Haidar had Caleb under one arm and Aslan under the other. As soon as they saw us they ran. Conrad turned back.\"\n\n\"Conrad? I thought Conrad was scouting up ahead.\"\n\nAgain she shook her head, struggling to control the trembling. \"Conrad tried to kill me,\" she said. \"He strangled me.\"\n\nRuben had been leaning over her. Now he straightened. \"The vine technique,\" he said, looking at the others. \"Remember how Zinovy taught us to use the vines?\"\n\n\"So Conrad's a traitor.\" Emery spit out the words. \"I wonder how long he's been fooling us?\"\n\nMark broke into their excited ramblings. \"It doesn't matter. All that matters now is that we find Caleb. I think Archie, Alex and Eric went after him—I saw them take off while Zinovy was looking after Sara.\"\n\nAnd then Zinovy was back. All heads turned toward him as he stumbled into the compound. Sara took one look at his ashen face and fainted.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy tore along the riverbank, straining to catch sight of his prey. Visibility was poor. Clusters of underbrush dotted the trail before him, scattered throughout a vast stand of oak trees that seemed never to end. He stumbled around five or six of the brilliant green clumps of bushes before he heard the sounds of battle. No guns. No screaming mortars. Just the ancient, deep, guttural sounds of men engaged in a struggle to the death.\n\nHis steps quickened, but it was another ten seconds before he ran into the blood. It splashed a vivid red kaleidoscope of color over three of the bushes nearest him and then trailed along the ground, moving away from the riverbank and into the densest part of the oak grove.\n\nZinovy followed the river of blood. It was so fresh he could smell it, and when he reached out to touch it—liquid streams dripping from a flower head along the way—it was still warm. He swallowed hard. Then he reached a break in the line of trees and burst into a meadow—breathless, heart pounding, dreading what he knew he would find.\n\nEric, Archie and Alex lay sprawled before him, their bodies strewn over the clearing as if scattered by a careless giant's hand. Their throats were slit from ear to ear. They wallowed in their own blood.\n\nZinovy closed his eyes. The world spun before him. And the blood—the blood engulfed him—a deep, crimson wave of shock and sorrow, sweeping him away.\n\nHe opened his eyes and looked down. There at his feet lay a butcher knife. Blood was already drying on the blade. The handle, brown-stained and notched, was a familiar one. This knife had been at his feet before. This was the knife Eric had wrested from the hand of the vandal—the vandal who had once stood over Zinovy's helpless back, ready to strike.\n\nGradually, the horrible reality penetrated his battered senses. Alex, Archie and Eric were dead. The crimson wave of shock faded. A dark, scarlet river of remorse and rage took its place. The river rose up in Zinovy's belly, swelled into his soul and spilled out of his mouth in one long animal scream of anger and pain.\n\nVengeance—the rage demanded vengeance. Zinovy stiffened and turned on his heel. He left the clearing on the run, retracing his steps back to the riverbank along the blood-littered trail.\n\nThen he stopped. They wouldn't have stayed on the riverbank. They would have gone north instead. North to the Regulus compound. North to the stone. North to the place of sacrifice.\n\nZinovy turned and raced back to the murder scene, still seeing red, but beginning to think more clearly. When he reached the spot where the three bodies lay, the clarity vanished. He found himself staring at Archie's body, lying where he had found it, still shrouded in his own blood, and two empty spaces on the ground where Eric and Alex had been.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN\n\nCaleb was not afraid.\n\nIt was true many bad men were around him. He knew they were bad. They didn't look bad on the outside. Most of them were dressed in white robes like the bright ones. Their clothes were not bright. Just white. But they were dark on the inside.\n\nThe men danced in front of him, waving their curved swords in the air and yelling very loud. They were full of fear. He could see it in their eyes. Caleb could always see the inside of people through their eyes.\n\nThe white one—the man with the white skin—there were bad things in him, too. Caleb had felt his badness before, from the first time he had seen him come to the camp. He talked nice, and he smiled a lot, but the smile was not in his eyes. Caleb knew that smiles had to be in people's eyes or they didn't count. Now the man stood beside him. He was so close that when he moved around he nearly stepped on Aslan's tail.\n\nThe big one—the one who had picked him up on his horse—Caleb wasn't sure about this one. The horse had been fun to sit on. Caleb liked horses. He looked away to the side of the camp. There were a lot of horses there, lined up, standing still, or stomping their feet and nodding their heads up and down like they were saying \"yes\" to something.\n\nOw! The big man who had put him on his horse took hold of Caleb's arm. His hand squeezed so tight it hurt. And the bad white man—he was yelling at the crowd of dark men in front of them.\n\nIt could have been very scary.\n\nBut Caleb was not afraid because he had never seen so many bright ones in one place before. Two big ones were standing right behind the man with the curved sword who was holding his arm. Two more big ones were behind the other bad man. And everywhere Caleb looked in the crowd he could see bright ones. A line of them stood in a big circle all around the camp, and lots of others stood around in the middle of the men. Caleb was not afraid because he knew the bright ones would protect him.\n\nHe was, however, worried about Aslan. His pet was not playing. He sat beside him instead, his back straight and quiet, his tail curled solemnly around his feet and—even more worrisome—his things were down.\n\nLooking at the sad little muzzle, Caleb remembered another lion—the one in his birthday book. When was it? Oh yes, at the end of the book, just before they tied that other Aslan and dragged him to the stone table so the witch could stab him with the knife. That Aslan had told the children he was sad and lonely, and they had put their hands into his thick mane to comfort him.\n\nCaleb reached down with his free hand and touched the silky mane of his little friend. The cub looked up at him. His eyes were soft and wet. Then he twitched his tail and looked back at the men who kept on jumping and shouting in front of them.\n\nThe big man let go of Caleb's arm and started waving his sword in the air with both of his hands.\n\nThen things happened very fast. Something hit the big bad man and he fell over. Next, two arms came from behind Caleb and grabbed him round the waist. Before he could even yell or look around or anything, someone threw him over his shoulder and ran away with him.\n\nCaleb opened his eyes and looked back at the bright ones. One of them—the one who had been standing next to him—looked over at them and then turned back to the camp full of angry men, as if he didn't care what was happening to Caleb.\n\nCaleb tried to call out, but his tummy was squished against the man's hard shoulder so he could hardly breathe. He looked down at the ground bouncing away under him and saw two feet. The shoes looked familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen them. Then he felt like he was going to be sick.\n\nThe man who had stolen him stopped running. He was panting. Caleb felt the man's hands grabbing his legs, saw his two feet stepping up onto a tall mound of moss. Then the next thing he knew Caleb had been thrown across the back of a very tall horse and the man who had stolen him came panting and puffing up onto the horse's back behind him. Then they were galloping away as fast as the horse could go.\n\n* * *\n\nThe crew were in shock. What was left of the crew, that is. Zinovy surveyed the misery around him. Four boys sat on the ground, shoulders slumped, heads bowed. This was his army.\n\nMark stood with his arm around Michelle who wept quietly into his shoulder. They were tears of resignation. Hope was gone. The last shreds had been washed away seconds ago by the horror on Zinovy's face as he told them the news.\n\nGrace and Sara stood across from him, their arms around each other. Grace's eyes were closed. Tears seeped through her lashes.\n\nSara looked at Zinovy. He read questions in her eyes. He looked back, his face blank. There were no answers, his eyes said. There never had been. Only questions. But even as he said it an answer was forming in his mind.\n\nHe must move fast.\n\n\"Mark, come here.\"\n\nMark pulled away from Michelle and joined him. Zinovy spoke quietly. \"I am away. You're in charge. Hide the women in the bushes and establish a guard. The boys must stand and watch, their backs to the center, and you must be everywhere else. The enemy may be close. They snatched two dead bodies from under my eyes. I don't know how they did it.\"\n\n\"Couldn't you follow the trail of blood?\"\n\n\"There was no trail. It was as if the bodies had vanished into the air.\"\n\nMark studied the ground, his brows drawn. \"They must have wrapped them in something. But why would they take Eric and Alex and leave Archie?\"\n\n\"I have no answers. But I know what I must do. It should have been done long ago.\"\n\nMark stared at him. Zinovy took his arm and shook it.\n\n\"You must do your best to protect, and head for the city when you can. It is your only hope now.\"\n\nMark's brow cleared and he nodded. \"I understand.\"\n\nThen Zinovy was off, tearing through the brush toward the Regulus camp. His mind raced ahead of his feet. Time. Such a strange thing. Minutes ago Archie and Eric and Alex had lived. Twenty—thirty—forty years a man could live and breathe. Then in an instant life was gone.\n\nA vision of Caleb in the hands of the butchers flashed before him and he ran faster.\n\n\"Time has run out for you, Adam,\" he said through gritted teeth. \"It has run out for both of us.\" The adrenaline surged through his limbs. He pictured his hands around Adam's handsome neck, felt the flesh give under his fingers, heard the bones snap.\n\nIn minutes he was halfway there. But life could end for Caleb in seconds. Anguish drove him faster still. In another few minutes he'd passed through the mango forest and sprinted across the plain, racing toward the band of warriors he could see in the distance, lined up against the horizon, facing him. Facing Haidar.\n\nFacing Caleb, held fast in Haidar's grip, like a hare in the hand of a hunter, helpless against the force of the mob's evil passion.\n\nHe covered the last few yards on his belly, thrashing through the tall grass, heedless of the noise, because the roar of the frenzied warriors, eager for bloodshed, drowned out every other sound.\n\nHe stopped, inches from the scene, parted the blades of grass in front of him and looked up.\n\nCaleb stood before the massive audience of Bedouin soldiers, his back straight as an arrow, the lion cub at his feet. Haidar was beside him, his left hand on the back of Caleb's shirt, hoisting him up, displaying the sacrifice to the crowd, his scimitar raised above the boys head, heightening the suspense, preparing to haul Caleb off to the ceremonial altar.\n\nSo it would have to be Haidar. Not Adam.\n\nNo time to think. He lunged, hitting the back of the Arab's knees, knocking him off his feet. Haidar twisted as he went down and Zinovy climbed up his chest, reaching for the throat. As his fingers closed around the leathery skin, Zinovy caught a glimpse of the scimitar being raised—of the hilt coming down.\n\nThen darkness.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy staggered to his feet and shook his head, reeling from the pain and falling to his knees again as the nausea took him. He swallowed several times and opened his eyes, trying to make the shimmering image in front of him stand still. Finally his head cleared and he looked out over the meadow before him.\n\nIt was empty.\n\nThe grass in the center of the compound was trampled, where the Bedouins had stood with their swords and their horses, roaring their excitement over the ceremony that was to give them the heart of El Kalb, the little lion king. But no other sign of life remained. No sign that humans had ever been there. Zinovy surveyed the campground. The hole where the prisoners had lived was empty, with no sign of struggle—not even shreds of the ropes with which the hostages had been tied. The trees that had tethered the horses were there, but the horses were gone.\n\nZinovy gazed into the distance. The plain stretched quietly before him in every direction. To his left, a herd of giraffes lifted leaves from the tops of eucalyptus trees and chewed them slowly, watching with mild interest as a pride of leopards pulled up tufts of grass at their feet.\n\nThere, beyond the giraffes, were the horses. Hundreds of them grazed contentedly, moving slowly from place to place, tails twitching. He recognized a couple of the nearest ones—a dark stallion and a smaller light brown mare who had been tethered near Adam's horse. But the plain, as far as his eye could see, was barren of human life.\n\nThe plain was also barren of any sign of human death. The realization relieved him for an instant. Then he remembered the stone. It stood twenty yards to his right, high, dark and barren.\n\nInstantly Zinovy's pulse quickened. He loped over and pulled himself up to the rock's flat top, shrinking from what he might find there.\n\nHe found . . . nothing. The surface was smooth and black—unstained, unmarred. Zinovy breathed again. But the instant's reprieve only heightened his confusion. Less than an hour ago savages had come from this place to the Gaia camp. They had snatched Caleb, killed three of Zinvoy's colleagues, and carried away two of their bodies. Now they were gone with no sign that they'd ever been. \"Impossible.\" His lips spoke the archaic word into the rainbow air.\n\nA familiar flash of red caught his eye. He trotted back to the center of the compound, reached down and picked up a Bedouin headdress. The signal cloth. They had been here. But now . . .\n\nThe agony of helplessness swept over him again. His hands, still hungry for violent action, hung limp at his sides. He'd been robbed of his prey. How? The last thing he remembered, just before the blackness, was Haidar coming down. Now Haidar was gone, and Zinovy's hands were empty, useless.\n\nHe had no idea where to turn. The enemy had to be nearby. Their horses were scattered. They would be on foot.\n\nThen it struck him.\n\nHe whirled and sped across the meadow, his head pounding a constant tatoo down the back of his neck, through his arms and out the tips of his fingers. They tingled with the shock of their loss.\n\nHe was soon panting hard, but he couldn't slow down. He scrambled over the terrain, calculating the distance the enemy must have covered while he'd lain in the grass, unconscious.\n\nIn minutes he was back at the Gaia compound. He burst in upon the crew, gasping for air, his lungs on fire.\n\nYes. They were still there. He breathed a prayer of thanks.\n\nSara was out of hiding. She whirled as he came into the camp and a wave of something that might have been relief washed over her face. She reached out for him, her eyes moving to the trickle of moisture sliding down his cheek. He caught her by the arms.\n\nMark looked up. Grace and Michelle crawled out from the cover of a large shrub. The boys left their posts, trotted over and began talking all at once.\n\nBreathing heavily, Zinovy silenced them with a gesture. \"The Regulus camp is gone,\" he said between gasps.\n\nHis announcement roused another round of babbling from the boys. He silenced them again. \"The Bedouins are gone. The Regulus people are gone. The hostages are gone.\"\n\nAt this Michelle cried out and reached for Mark. Grace released her and looked at Zinovy. The pallor on her face reminded him of her sickness at the beginning of their journey. They were back where they'd begun, only there were fewer of them now.\n\nHe opened his mouth to speak again, but the words didn't reach his lips. They were interrupted by the commotion of running feet. The shrubbery beside him began to vibrate. Then it erupted and three panting bodies burst out of the greenery into their midst.\n\nRuben was the first to react. With a yelp of joy he rushed forward and threw his arms around his brother. Simon grinned at Zinovy over Ruben's shoulder as the two children galloped past them and fell into their mother's arms.\n\n* * *.\n\nConfusion reigned for the next few minutes. The boys frolicked around Simon. The children tumbled from one parent to the other. Eleven voices split the sparkling air around them with exclamations and questions. Zinovy's head spun. Where—? How—?\n\nJust as Zinovy had decided things could not become more unexplainable, a large Arabian stallion trotted onto the scene, bobbed its head in recognition and strolled over to place a wet nose under Zinovy's arm. On the horse's back was a small boy, leaning forward, his hands tangled in the shaggy mane. The boy was laughing. It was a laugh Zinovy had thought he would never hear again. He reached up, pulled Caleb from the horse's back and buried his swimming eyes in the boy's neck.\n\nIt was Charles who finally brought some order to their confusion. Zinovy tore his face from Caleb's neck to see the pudgy man come trudging through the shrubs, kicking an entangling branch out of his way, breathing heavily and mumbling under his breath.\n\n\"Damn greenery. Always in the way.\" He looked up and saw them, put his hands on his hips, and continued. \"Damn horse. There you are. I've half a mind to beat you, you ornery bag of glue factory fodder.\"\n\nSara laughed. Zinovy's heart soared. Another sound he thought he'd never hear.\n\n\"What happened, Charles?\" Sara asked. \"Where were you? Where'd you find Caleb?\"\n\n\"Hold on,\" he grumped at her. \"I've been traipsing around for a quarter of an hour after that stupid animal. I have no breath left to answer questions.\" He sat down under a tree and swiped his sleeve across his face. And so it was Caleb who told them the story.\n\n\"I was kidnapped, did you know? The bad men took me away to the place where all the soldiers were. I wasn't afraid because there were bright ones there. But then that man—\" here he paused and pointed to Charles—\"he stole me back from the bad men. He brought me here on the horse.\" He ducked his head and thought a minute. \"Actually, the horse brought me here. The horse kicked him off and wouldn't let him back on.\"\n\nCharles interrupted at this point. \"That stupid animal—he grazed the whole way. Every time I'd almost catch up to him he'd trot away to another clump of grass. Made me chase him all the way home.\" Charles grabbed first one knee, then the other, and pulled his shoes off.\n\n\"It's too early for the shoes to come off, Charles. What do you know of the Regulus crew? Where did they go?\"\n\nCharles looked up. \"Go? They didn't go anywhere. We left them standing around shouting. It was all I could do to get away without them seeing us. There was some distraction at the end. Otherwise we probably wouldn't have made it.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. He opened his mouth, ready with more questions, but another arrival interrupted him.\n\nElan was there. He stood on the edge of the compound smiling. He held a small lion cub in his arms.\n\n\"You forgot something, Charles. I found this little guy galloping after your horse. His legs aren't long enough to keep up with a horse, you know.\"\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy was tired of funerals.\n\nHe was in charge of this one. At least this time he had a religious book. He grimaced as he flipped through the pages of Eric's precious souvenir, grieving for his friend. His eyes passed over the words without seeing them until he came to a page near the back that arrested his attention.\n\nThe Lord was speaking: \"Listen carefully:\" he said. \"Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you'll have it forever, real and eternal.\"\n\nEric would have liked that statement. Well, Eric had let go of his life, whether he meant to or not, but he wouldn't be buried. They didn't have the body.\n\nThis part of the book would not do. None of it made sense. Zinovy flipped back through the pages and sighed. Eric had had a favorite passage. He'd quoted it so often Zinovy almost had it memorized. He would use that one.\n\n\"Okay, everyone. We'll do the funeral now.\"\n\nThey stood around the single grave the boys had dug early that morning. In it were the remains of the single body they'd recovered from the murder scene, already turning to dust.\n\n\"I'm not good at this sort of thing. You'll have to bear with me. Archie was better, but he's not here. We'll simply pay the last respects to Archie—Archibald Berry, commander of this crew until yesterday.\"\n\nZinovy paused. Only yesterday? The suddenness of the end overwhelmed him.\n\nThen he went on. \"He led us well and did it to the death.\" Zinovy looked around the group. Tears glistened in the eyes of some of the mourners.\n\n\"Perhaps we can each throw some sod into the grave now,\" he said after a moment.\n\nOne by one the crew members picked up clumps of the vegetation piled nearby and tossed them into the grave. Zinovy went last.\n\n\"And to Alex Roberts, member of the underground crew at Canaveral. A faithful member, as well, of this crew, who gave his life in our defense.\" Again Zinovy paused. He did not give his life. It was taken. As his mind spoke this truth, anger welled up in his belly.\n\n\"And to Eric Glaston—faithful crew member and faithful friend—who also gave his life in our defense.\"\n\nYou did this more than once, my friend. You already did it two times for me.\n\nTears filled his own eyes as he continued: \"We pay our respects and wish for you rest and peace, wherever you are.\"\n\nHe looked up and said, \"I will end with this quote from Eric's red book. It was a favorite saying of his which he spoke to us often.\"\n\nZinovy then bowed his head and read: \"This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed.\"\n\nZinovy paused once more, remembering the destruction he had seen at the scene of the murder. He forced himself to go on: \"By believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn't go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person's failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.\"\n\nThere was too much talk of death in this part. He stopped and looked up. \"We have no graves for the others, but we can remember them all three with a moment of silence.\" The group bowed their heads. Zinovy listened to the silence. It was full of life. The lark, the wren, the crow, the jay. How could all things go on as if nothing had happened? The world should be silent as well.\n\nFinally he straightened and took a deep breath. \"That's all. We must go on now.\"\n\nSimon and Ruben made short work of filling the grave. Zinovy watched them for a while, the shovels going back and forth from the diminishing pile of vegetation by his side to the hole in which they had laid Archie's body. Then he turned and walked away.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy lay on his back in the soft moss trying to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. It was not fear that kept him awake. \"You no longer need to fear Regulus,\" Elan had told them. \"The movement is no more.\"\n\n\"Does that mean no more guard duty?\" Ruben had asked.\n\n\"Guard duty isn't necessary.\"\n\n\"No more scouting party?\"\n\n\"There is no longer a need,\" Elan had repeated.\n\nBut the release from fear, the exhaustion of the day's activity, and even his lack of sleep over the past week were not enough to lure Zinovy into slumber. He hadn't had time to think in days. Too much had happened too fast. He gazed into the soft glittering air of midnight, still trying to put the puzzle together.\n\nSome of the pieces had fallen into place when they'd talked that evening after it had happened. The hostages had escaped on their own. Earlier in the day the vines that bound them had deteriorated and fallen off. Their guards had forgotten them in the excitement of Caleb's arrival and in the din of the celebrations in the Regulus camp the three had crawled out of the hole and snuck away.\n\n\"We weren't sure where you were,\" Simon said. \"We used the compass and headed in the general direction of the river. When we got there we followed it upstream until we found you.\" They hadn't been far off course.\n\nThe question of Conrad was still a mystery. How had his treason come about? There had been no clue. Or had there? He'd seemed a regular member of the crew, had joked and laughed with the others, played with Caleb. He hadn't spent any more time with Adam than the rest of the boys. But he had been absent at times. That should have raised suspicion.\n\nZinovy groaned when he remembered how carefully he'd instructed the boys in the use of the vine for strangulation. Conrad had been his best pupil. He blanched at the memory of Sara's scream and the sight of her limp body with the vine twisted around her slim neck. Zinovy had asked Elan about that. \"How could she have survived the strangling?\"\n\nElan had smiled. \"It's very hard to die from lack of oxygen in this atmosphere. Oxygen permeates everything. Her air supply was cut off, but her skin was breathing. It happens. It's not a miracle.\"\n\nSo she had been spared, in spite of Zinovy. And Archie, Eric and Alex had died because of him.\n\nWhy? His most important questions—those that cried out from his deepest anguish—remained a mystery. Why had the bright ones—apparently there were thousands of them—why had they rescued Caleb, but let the others die?\n\nHe'd asked Elan about that as well. \"Where were the bright ones when Archie and Eric and Alex were killed? Was it only chance they weren't in the right place?\"\n\n\"Nothing happens by chance, Zinovy. Nothing ever has. Everything is a precisely planned interplay between human decision and the Creator's sovereignty.\"\n\n\"That's bizarre. I can't believe that.\"\n\nElan shrugged. \"It's your choice.\" He watched Zinovy's face for a minute. Then he said, more gently, \"One day you'll understand. In the mean time you just have to trust.\" And he was gone.\n\nSilently Zinovy had answered: It's fine for you to trust. You're above it all. Nothing touches you.\n\nTrust would not ease the pain. Trust would not bring his friends back. Trust would not remove the guilt he felt for the tragedy of their loss.\n\nThat religious crap is going to be the death of us, Archie had said. And he was right. 'That religious crap' was what had stopped Zinovy's hand as he stood before Adam Hamilton in the path to Sara's sleeping place on that fateful day when he wanted, so badly, to break the man's neck.\n\nBecause of 'that religious crap' Zinovy had let Adam live long enough to kill Eric—to kill him with the very knife . . . .\n\nAnd so his thoughts went round and round.\n\nHis grief kept Zinovy awake long into the morning hours. It continued to haunt him, dogging his steps as he moved toward the mountain over the next four days, taunting him whenever he stopped to rest. You could have saved them, it said, over and over.\n\nBut he hadn't saved them. And all the while, living quietly within him, was the one who had stayed his hand. The one who had convinced him to trust instead. The one who would have been living in Eric too. The one who would have watched Zinovy's comrades die.\n\nZinovy pushed the presence away, and steadily, underneath the pain of the grief and the guilt, a wild anger began to grow.\n\n* * *\n\nRolling thunder split the sky into a million pieces. Sara shivered. She wasn't afraid. She was in awe. The power of the lightning and thunder amazed her.\n\nThey'd traveled for four days. It had taken them three days to reach the base of the mountain, and the fourth day they began their ascent.\n\n\"The river will disappear, but you'll have no problem finding your way once you reach the top of the mountain,\" Elan had told them.\n\nThe climb had been steep. Zinovy had pushed them hard and Sara was tired by the time they'd reached the place, halfway to the top, where the two ridges met. They'd stopped there, not because they were tired, but because reverberations from the thunder were so powerful they'd had to cling to vines along the steep trail to keep from being catapulted over the edge.\n\nNow Sara, Zinovy and Caleb stood, sheltered in a cleft of the rock, watching in wonder.\n\n\"Is that God talking?\" Caleb clutched her hand so tightly it hurt.\n\n\"Yes, I think it is,\" she said. She gazed at the scene, blinking involuntarily with every flash of lightning. She didn't want to blink. She wanted to experience the brightness. Apart from the lightning it was dark on this mountain. As they'd climbed, the colorful tints had faded. Now the air was overcast with a silver-gray fog that reminded Sara of days on the old earth when the glower of afternoon thundershowers lay heavy on the landscape. But there was no water in this storm.\n\nCaleb spoke again. \"If it's God talking, then why are we hiding in here? Why are we afraid? Why don't we go out and listen? Why don't we go out and talk to him?\"\n\nZinovy had been ruminating darkly in the shadows. \"You make a good point, Caleb. Why don't we do that?\" He stepped forward as Sara looked on warily. She had not been able to predict his actions lately.\n\nTurning to the boy he said, \"You stay here, Caleb, with Sara. I'm going out to talk to God.\"\n\nThen he was gone into the darkness.\n\n\"Why do I have to stay here, Sara? If it's God we don't need to be afraid. I want to go with Zinovy.\" He'd been clinging to Zinovy more than ever since the kidnapping episode.\n\n\"No, Caleb,\" she said, holding him back. \"It's best you stay.\" She tried to explain. \"We're not afraid, but sometimes when God talks we need to be in a protected place where it's safe. Sometimes he has to talk very loud and it hurts.\"\n\n\"But I didn't know God could hurt. Doesn't he love everyone? Why would it hurt to hear God talk?\"\n\nSara was bemused. \"That's a hard question, Caleb. God does love everyone and he doesn't want anyone to be hurt.\" She paused. Then she knelt and looked into the boy's eyes. \"Caleb do you remember in your birthday book when Susan was about to meet Aslan? She was afraid because he was a lion and she asked Mrs. Beaver if he was 'safe'?\"\n\nCaleb thought a minute, then he nodded.\n\n\"Do you remember what Mr. Beaver told Susan?\"\n\nAgain the boy nodded. \"He said Aslan wasn't safe, but he was good.\"\n\n\"That's right. Well, God is like that. God is good, but he is not safe.\"\n\nThe boy stood for some time, brows drawn, lips puckered. When he finally spoke, Sara's heart trembled. \"Is that why some kids have to lose their mommy and daddy?\" he asked.\n\nShe hesitated, struggling for an answer. When it didn't come, he probed further. \"They are dead, aren't they, Sara?\"\n\nShe groaned inwardly. Then she nodded. He looked at her for a moment, as if waiting for something more. Then he turned away and sighed.\n\nShe couldn't leave his questions there. \"Caleb,\" she said gently, turning his wilting body to face her. \"God is safe for people who put their trust in him. Your mommy and daddy trusted in him and they are safe. God is not safe for people who are evil. If evil were safe from God, he would not be good. God has to hurt the bad things.\" She watched the boy's white face as he digested the idea.\n\n\"But they aren't safe. They're dead.\"\n\nHis logic was killing her. She hugged him close, feeling the rhythm of the little heart beating next to hers. \"Even when you die you are safe with God,\" she went on. \"He takes care of you through the dying.\" She looked up at the sparkling walls around them. \"It's like this rock, see? When God hurts the bad things he always makes a place for us to be safe in. We can hide in the safe place until the hurting talk is over.\"\n\nHe didn't respond. Finally she sighed. \"I know it's hard to understand, but it's just something we have to trust him about.\"\n\nAt some point the thunder had stopped, but occasional flashes of lightning still shattered the darkness. They sat at the entrance to the cave, looking out at the storm. Caleb's mind had returned to the present.\n\n\"But what about Zinovy?\" he asked. \"Will he be hurt by God's talk?\"\n\n\"Don't you worry about Zinovy,\" Sara reassured him. \"God only hurts the bad things. Zinovy will be okay.\"\n\nAll the same she wondered. Something worrisome was going on with him. He was angry in a way she had never seen before, and there was nothing she could do to ease his pain. Instead, she silently prayed.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT\n\nZinovy stepped out into the storm.\n\nHe belonged here. The raging in his spirit matched the raging of the storm, blast for blast. He stood for a moment, hands clenched, shoulders back, his face lifted to the threatening sky. Lightning flashed. He watched, eyes wide open, defying his body's command to close them. His pupils burned with the brightness, but he refused to give in to the pain, challenging heaven's demand that he bow to the power. He had bowed enough. He would bow no more.\n\nBefore him lay a valley bounded by a rim of jagged rock outcroppings. It looked to be about a hundred feet deep and several hundred yards across. Masses of shrubs covered in royal purple blossoms carpeted the floor of the valley. The color, muted by the darkness in the air around him, rose and fell in undulating waves that flowed up the other side of the bowl, running across the face of the mountain to the east and west as well. But the incline at his feet was sharp and harsh.\n\nThe valley beckoned to him. He moved along the rim of the precipice, searching for a break in the solid rock, finding none. Eventually he stopped at a place where the ridge was not as high. He eased his body over the edge and began to work his way down the steep slope, hand over hand.\n\nThe stone was cold and slick. He struggled for footholds in the uneven rock outcropping, but the farther he went the fewer he could find. Ten feet down from the top he extended his right leg as far as he could reach and found nothing. Then the next blast of thunder hit him.\n\nThe reverberations were so strong they plastered his body against the side of the mountain. When they stopped he was left hanging by his fingernails on the rock wall. His hands began to sweat.\n\nHis grip had nearly gone when his left foot settled on a sliver of stone beneath him and another blast of thunder gave him a moment's reprieve. He found a handhold a few inches farther down before the blast relented and he was lifted by the calm once more. His heart pounded against the rock wall, in league with the storm to push him away from his only security.\n\nFar below, the valley floor waited to receive his body. He gritted his teeth and hung on. Angry determination was his only ally. He would not let the mountain beat him.\n\nHe began to move inch by inch down the cliff, leaving patches of his clothing on rough shards of exposed rock as he went. The jagged stone slivers under his hands glistened, red and slippery, as he fumbled from one handhold to the next, and his muscles quivered, screaming for release from the tension that held him against the sheer wall. But he couldn't let go. He wouldn't let go. On he went, for what seemed like hours, until finally he caught a glimpse of royal purple an arm's length below.\n\nOne more blast of thunder held him, clinging to nothing, then he was down. He dropped to his knees in a mound of purple blooms and stayed there for long minutes, gasping for breath. When his heartbeat quieted to a steady roar, he stood and looked back at the rock face he'd descended. With that final blast the storm had subsided. The air around him was quiet, as if awaiting his approach.\n\nHe stepped forward and the thunder exploded again, its roar echoing more powerfully than before as the noise reverberated off the sheer sides of the walls around him. He lifted his face to the sound. He needed to talk.\n\nFirst came the remorse: \"Eric, forgive me,\" he cried out to the empty sky. \"I had a chance to kill your murderer and I didn't do it. He stood before me with evil in his eyes and I let him turn and go.\" The irony of it thrust into Zinovy's heart like the dagger Eric had once thrown at his feet.\n\nThen came the anger. \"Why?\" he wailed to the mountain. \"Why didn't I kill him when I had the chance?\"\n\nThe answer came quietly from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere underneath the dagger point in his heart: Because I told you not to and you chose to obey.\n\nAt that the anger became a burning white ball of fire that moved up into his throat and erupted into the blistering air. Once more he shouted out the ancient question—the question resounding down through the ages of history—the question that had always been met by a deep, cosmic silence:\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nSilence once again met his scream of protest.\n\n\"Where were you?\"\n\nSilence.\n\n\"Eric was a good man. He did not deserve to die. Yet you let it happen.\"\n\nThe words, cast futilely against the stone of the mountainside, echoed back to him.\n\nZinovy was on his knees now, sitting on his heels. He gazed through bleary eyes at the purple beauty around him and thought of Eric. Archie had died in the line of duty. His sacrifice was called for. But Eric's death was tragic. He was young. His life had been before him. His death was a sacrifice that shouldn't have been made.\n\nThe silence was deafening.\n\nZinovy knew Someone was out there. Someone had heard his call. Someone was ignoring him. He waited for an answer until he could stand it no longer. Then he voiced the ultimate question. He bellowed it across the valley:\n\n\"How can you call yourself good? Who do you think you are, anyway?\"\n\nThe only answer was the echo of his words. They boomeranged, resounding between the walls of the mountain and the walls of his spirit until they became a mere whisper deep in his soul.\n\nThe last reverberation resonated more quietly still, and he recognized it was not his question anymore. He listened to the words he'd thrown so recklessly to the mountain—listened to the new shape they'd taken.\n\nWho do you think you are, Zinovy?\n\nThen the heavens were silent once again.\n\nZinovy lay where he had fallen, on his face before the mountain. The question worked its way into his heart, breaking down the fortress he'd begun to build around himself once again. He lay exposed, no covering from the brightness that slowly grew around him, and as he lay there he remembered who he was.\n\nHe was a man, only a man. A selfish man. A man who had used women and killed men; who had built a world for himself that had kept everyone out; who had made that small world his kingdom, as if he were a king, the rightful ruler of his own destiny. He was a man who had made himself God.\n\nAnd who was the Other—the 'Someone' on the mountain? He was the Creator of everything. He was Zinovy's Creator. He was Eric's Creator. He was the innocent Lamb—the man with the scars—who came, and loved, and bled to redeem selfish people—to build a new world for them full of light and beauty. He was the rightful ruler of it all. He was God, who had made himself a man, and was both.\n\nHours later Zinovy left that place. He could see clearly now in the light of the storm's passing. Beside him, to the right of the rock wall he'd descended, was a crack in the sheer cliff face. The crack broadened out a few feet from the bottom and veered off further to the right into a gentle incline that led back up to the top of the precipice.\n\nZinovy began his ascent. Nothing around him had changed. Eric was still gone and so were Archie and Alex. But Zinovy had changed. His questions had been silenced by the Creator's question. At a deeper level than ever before, Zinovy was at peace. He knew who he was. He was just a man who was walking with God, and that was enough.\n\nAt the top he found Sara and Caleb asleep in the cave. He stood for a moment, watching their deep, measured breathing, then he went outside, propped himself against the reassuring presence of the mountain and fell asleep himself.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy woke to the sound of birds singing. Clouds still shrouded the mountaintop, but the air around them had cleared. Brightness filtered through the leaves of the trees on the slope above him. He looked up and said good morning to the day. Then he went to wake the others.\n\nThe crew had bedded down in scattered places along the trail the night before. Now they gathered. Mark rubbed his hand through his tousled hair. \"We travel on?\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"This is no place to rest. We'll try for the top today.\" He looked up at the cloud-rimmed plateau above them. \"I figure we're halfway. It took about eight hours yesterday, right? Another eight hours today should do it.\"\n\n\"I hope it doesn't take longer. Michelle is tired. The climb yesterday was steep.\"\n\n\"I think the worst of the climb is over. Today we'll go down into that valley below.\" He pointed to the place he'd gone the night before. \"Across is a break in the vegetation. I think there will be a trail up the side there.\"\n\nMark followed his gaze and nodded.\n\n\"Will you tell the others to gather?\" Zinovy said. \"The sooner we start, the sooner we'll get there.\"\n\nAnd so they continued their journey. Zinovy led them to the slit in the rocks he'd climbed the night before, eased himself down over the ridge, found a footing on the steep slope, then reached up to help the others down the side. They worked their way down the crevice, then walked single file across the broad valley bottom and up through the break in the vegetation until they reached the end of the lush purple foliage. Here they stopped for lunch.\n\n\"There's no water, Zinovy,\" Sara said.\n\n\"I know. Elan said we would do well without. You're eating fruit, aren't you? Make sure Caleb has something with juice.\"\n\nDusk had begun to soften the edges of the ridges when they finally came to the top of the mountain. Zinovy stopped just before the crest and looked back over the trail.\n\n\"We're here,\" he announced. Then he climbed the last six feet and stepped out onto the edge of heaven.\n\nIt wasn't heaven. It was still the earth. But here on the plateau, glory danced, spilling over everything. Zinovy stood with the others, silent, amazed at the spectacle.\n\nAs always, the scents accosted him. Sweet and heady, warm in his nostrils, in his throat, in his brain. Indescribable. He breathed them in deeply without volition and their subtle influence sent shivers through his body. In that instant, Zinovy's past, the present and the future seemed to blend, all his experiences gathered up in an overwhelming expectation of joy. He stood on tiptoe and breathed and stared.\n\nThe iridescence glistened more brightly than ever in the mountain air, shimmering around them in brilliant hues that dimmed their memory of the beauty in the land they'd left below.\n\nA blanket of green foliage unfolded before them. The flowing landscape was interrupted now and then, east to west and north to south, by large clusters of taller vegetation—green, billowing clouds of what looked like trees from a distance. And over it all, vast swatches of color—unimaginable shades of reds and blues and yellows—flowed over and around each other, adorning the landscape in a seamless harmony that stretched all the way to the edge of the horizon. The vision before them sang with joy.\n\nThe joy-song was joined by the sounds of the birds, delirious with happiness, and by the sound of something else Zinovy couldn't quite identify. Music, coming from a distance. Almost like a choir of voices. Human perhaps. Or not? The melody was wordless yet somehow full of meaning—a contented trill that permeated the colors and the scents and added a pleasure to the atmosphere that was almost erotic.\n\nEventually Zinovy regained some composure. The radiance settled into a rhythmic ebb and flow of gentle contentment. He looked around at the others, took a deep breath, and spoke. \"We must go further today, I think. We'll go forward toward that first oasis of greenery to the east. Maybe there's water there.\"\n\nThere was water. Not the river, but a wide, glistening pool whose surface quivered under the splash of an artesian fountain that bubbled up near the northern edge of the pond. It was an oasis, if such a term could be used to describe a thicket of lushness within a landscape that was already lush beyond imagining. Zinovy looked around at the variety of vegetation—trees and flowers and fruits they hadn't yet encountered—and said, \"We'll rest here tonight.\"\n\nThey stayed for two nights, cradled in the luxury of their surroundings. Even Zinovy found himself loathe to leave, though he knew they had to. Their destination called to them. He must finish the job Archie had begun.\n\n* * *\n\nBreakfast was finished. Zinovy sat in a cluster of greenery beside the pool watching Sara and the children splash in the fountain. Grace called to them from the edge of the pool. \"Why don't you collect some of those smooth gemstones at the bottom? We can make a cairn here beside this bush—stack them up and build a monument in memory of our journey.\"\n\nZinovy wondered if it was wise to disturb the environment to that extent. He was about to veto Grace's suggestion when Mark walked up with an announcement that pushed Zinovy's concerns about the cairn out of his mind.\n\n\"Zinovy, Michelle and I want to stay here with the children. We don't want to go on to the city.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. \"But Elan said the city should be our destination. It has been our goal all along. Why would you not continue?\"\n\nMark sighed. \"It's Michelle. She's tired. The strain of the kidnapping nearly killed her. Her emotions are shot. And she's physically low too. The hike up the mountain was the last straw. She needs time to recoup.\"\n\n\"But I'm wondering about the others. We are only a few now. The smaller our crew, the weaker we are. I had hoped—I had expected that we'd stay together the whole way.\" Zinovy paused. Mark said nothing. It was apparent he would not be easily moved from his decision.\n\n\"Would you go on to the city eventually?\"\n\nMark shrugged. \"I don't know. We don't really have plans yet. It's hard to plan in this environment.\"\n\n\"It's true. But plans are still in order. One cannot simply quit moving.\"\n\nEven as he said it Zinovy wondered if the statement were true. He wracked his brain for a reason to keep going. They were in paradise. How could it get any better?\n\nHis heart finally gave him the answer: \"Elan tells us the city is the home of the Creator. Don't you want to go there for that reason?\"\n\n\"Maybe some day.\" Mark looked off into the distance. \"I'm not that driven to go. It's so beautiful here. I'm willing to wait for a while—let Michelle rest.\"\n\nZinovy debated. Technically, Mark's announcement should have been a request, but it was not worded that way. Did he have the right, or the authority, to say Mark couldn't stay? Did he have the power to enforce that command if he gave it?\n\nFinally Zinovy shrugged. \"The choice is yours, I guess. I'm not sure what that means for the rest of us. We'll have to meet. Maybe others will want to stay longer as well. I don't think it's good, but we'll talk about it.\"\n\nWe'll talk about it. How much he was sounding like Archie.\n\nMark and Michelle brought the children and settled in some soft shrubbery to his right. Charles leaned against a nearby palm tree, chewing on a piece of coconut. The boys squatted on their haunches here and there among the flowers. They rarely sat any more. Zinovy had a sense they were poised to take off if the discussion proved to be less interesting than the surroundings they'd been exploring constantly since their arrival.\n\nGrace sat with her arms folded, looking up at him. She had long since forgotten the logbook. He wasn't sure if they even still had it. He must check the kit and see what they had left of their supplies.\n\n\"We need to plan for the rest of the journey,\" Zinovy began. \"Grace, how much farther did Elan say it was to the city?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure exactly. It's written in the logbook, I think. Do you want me to go get it?\"\n\n\"Yes. We do still have the book then? That's good.\"\n\nGrace went to get the book. While she was gone Zinovy continued: \"Mark has told me that he and Michelle don't want to continue with the journey at this time. I want to know how the rest of you feel about that decision.\"\n\nZinovy had chosen the negative wording deliberately. Maybe the others would protest and give support to his position that the Muellers continue on with the group.\n\nWhen no one responded he went on. \"I've said to Mark that I feel we should remain together. So if the Muellers stay, the rest of us should consider staying with them.\"\n\nThat remark got a reaction from the boys.\n\n\"No way,\" Simon said. \"I don't want to stay here. I mean, it's great and all, but I want to see what's ahead.\"\n\n\"Me too,\" Ruben said.\n\n\"What would we do if we stayed here?\" Raheem asked. \"We do not want to sit around and do nothing.\"\n\nMike said, \"I thought we were going to the city. Elan told us we should do that, didn't he?\"\n\nBy this time everyone was talking at once. Zinovy stood, arms folded, allowing the grumbles to escalate. But before the protest had a chance to develop into a useful movement, Emery introduced the option Zinovy had hoped no one would consider.\n\n\"Hey, if Mark and Michelle want to stay, I say, let them. There's no reason we have to stay with them, is there?\"\n\nZinovy straightened and took command of the conversation again. \"There's no law that says they can't stay while we go, but it would be unwise. There's strength in numbers, and if the Muellers stay, those of us who go on will be only . . . \" He stopped and counted around the circle. \"There'll be only ten of us to go on. And Mark's contingent will be only four. Both groups will be weakened by such a division.\"\n\nA thoughtful silence enshrouded the group for a moment. Then Mark spoke. \"I'm not sure we need to worry about strength any more. Didn't Elan say we would be safe once we reached the top?\"\n\n\"That I did.\"\n\nThe voice came from behind Zinovy. He jumped and looked around.\n\n\"The closer you get to the city the safer you are,\" Elan continued.\n\nZinovy had lost control of the meeting. Had he ever had control? The boys peppered Elan with questions. Most of them were about the city.\n\n\"You said we'd have lots to do when we got there, didn't you, Elan?\"\n\n\"How much farther is it?\"\n\n\"What's to do there?\"\n\n\"Are there any girls in the city?\"\n\nElan laughed and held up his hands. \"Hold on. I'm not going to answer questions now. You'll find out soon enough about all those things.\"\n\n\"At least tell us how far,\" Charles said. \"Our calculations are so far off we don't have any idea.\"\n\nElan sobered. \"All right. I'll tell you. You're about 500 miles away. It's easy traveling from here. You could make it in ten or twelve days if you rushed.\" He looked around at them. \"But there is no reason to rush. In fact, not all of you are prepared for that destination yet.\"\n\nZinovy glanced up in time to see Elan's thoughtful gaze rest on Charles. As if responding to the attention, Charles spoke. \"Well I think we should go, and go as fast as we can. The trip has been long enough.\"\n\nElan continued to study him for a moment. Then he turned to Zinovy. \"There's no reason for you to stay together any more,\" he said.\n\nZinovy frowned.\n\nElan acknowledged the frown with a small bow, then he turned to the others. \"From this point, each one of you could go on alone. In one sense that's what everyone has been doing all along. You're traveling together, but you are also on a personal journey, and in the end, each person must approach the city on their own, even if they are with others.\"\n\nZinovy lowered his brows. Elan was talking nonsense again.\n\nThe boys erupted into excited chatter. Their words erased any last hope Zinovy had of keeping the group together. All they were talking about now was when they would leave and how fast they would move.\n\nEmery calculated. \"We can do 50 miles a day if we go five miles an hour for ten hours,\" he said. The rest nodded.\n\nCharles nodded as well. He was obviously determined to go with them. His impatience had returned full force since Caleb's escape from Adam's camp.\n\nSara spoke up from the back where she'd been riding herd on Caleb. \"What about us?\" she asked. \"If you go that fast we won't be able to keep up. What are we supposed to do?\"\n\n\"She has a point,\" Zinovy said. \"So far everyone has been thinking only of himself. This is the problem of going our separate ways. Some will be left behind. It's something we need to consider.\"\n\nThe boys were subdued for a moment. Then Mike spoke up. \"Why can't you take them, Zinovy? We can go ahead. You can come with the others at your own pace.\"\n\nSara looked at Zinovy. \"I guess that would work,\" she said. A cloud sat on her forehead. It mirrored the one on his own.\n\nZinovy looked back at her. \"Maybe you'd like to stay here with Mark and Michelle. It's a pleasant place. All you need is here.\"\n\nShe studied his face. \"What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"Me?\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"I'll go on to the city.\"\n\nSara frowned. \"I want to go to the city too,\" she said. \"I've always planned to do that.\"\n\nZinovy turned to Grace. \"What about you?\"\n\nShe shrugged. \"I'll probably want to go on too. But it doesn't really matter too much to me one way or the other.\" Again, Zinovy noted the sadness in her face. Her grief would take much time to heal.\n\nHe cleared his throat. \"Well, that's enough, I guess. If we don't need to travel together, we don't need to meet together either. You're all on your own. You must make the best of it from here on in.\"\n\n\"We'll talk more of your plans later,\" he said to Grace and Sara. Then he turned and walked away. A strange mixture of relief and frustration clouded his mind.\n\nWhere did this leave him? He would have to think about it.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy thought about it all morning. He laid the facts out on the grass in front of him.\n\nMark and Michelle and the two children would stay here. The boys and Charles would move on. That left Grace, Sara and Caleb—and him. If the women persisted in their desire to go on to the city he would have to take them. That should work all right. All the same something bothered him. Elan had left again. It figured. Just like Elan to come and stir things up and leave him with the details to work out.\n\nThree of those details were walking toward him right now. He studied them as they came. Grace and Sara were smiling and talking. Caleb galloped between them, tromping around the flowers in their path. The boy looked up, let go of Sara's hand, skipped ahead of the two women, and threw himself at Zinovy's knees.\n\nHe grabbed the boy. \"Whoa, horse. You'll knock me over.\"\n\n\"Guess what, Zinovy,\" Sara said. \"Grace has some exciting news.\"\n\nGrace's smile framed her glowing face. \"My family,\" she began. \"Zinovy, Elan says my family is alive.\" At this she could contain herself no longer. Tears of joy filled her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and cried openly into his shoulder.\n\nZinovy's heart sang with her words. \"I'm happy for you,\" he said as he returned her embrace. \"Where are they?\"\n\n\"They aren't far away,\" she said. \"They're traveling to the city as well. Elan said I can go to them if I want. I can make the rest of the journey to the city with them.\" She wailed, \"Oh, Zinovy. I get to see my boys. I get to hold my husband. I can't believe the happiness.\"\n\nZinovy's shirt was getting wet. He gently pulled her away. \"What do you mean Elan says you can go to them? How will you get there?\"\n\nGrace wiped her eyes on her shirttail and grinned up at him. \"Elan will take me. He says I can go any time. Isn't that wonderful?\"\n\nZinovy frowned. \"Yes, it is wonderful. But I'd like you to wait a while,\" he said. \"We need to consider some things.\"\n\nGrace's smile faded. \"Why should I wait? I want to go now.\"\n\nZinovy sighed. \"There are others to consider, Grace. We need to talk about it. Will you do me the favor of staying long enough to settle some things? I cannot make you stay. I'm asking as a favor.\" He looked at Sara then back at Grace. \"Can we talk at supper? I'll explain then.\"\n\n* * *\n\nSuppertime had become an excuse to explore. Charles and the boys were far afield looking for their dinner. They would be back. Zinovy had managed to secure a promise from them all that no one would leave until at least the next day. He needed the evening to deal with one remaining problem now that the dust of their decisions had all settled.\n\nHe took his sandwich over to the shrub Grace had chosen for her dinner table. She was eating alone. Sara and Caleb had eaten early and gone to the pool for a final dip before Caleb's bedtime.\n\nGrace smiled as he approached. He squatted beside her and took a bite before he began. He needed her cooperation, so he must express himself well. Finally he decided, as usual, that the direct route was best.\n\n\"I have a problem, Grace,\" he began. \"The way things have worked out, if you go to your family, that will leave me to travel alone with Sara and Caleb.\" He looked at her to see if she was hearing him.\n\nGrace frowned. \"So?\"\n\nZinovy squirmed into a more comfortable position. \"That's the problem,\" he said. \"It won't be right for me to go on alone with them. Only the three of us, you see?\" He studied her face. Clearly she didn't see. He was going to have to spell it out. \"It won't be proper. Me, a man, and Sara, a woman. You understand?\"\n\nShe grinned. \"Sara is a woman now, is she? You used to call her a child. When did she grow up?\"\n\nZinovy glared at her. \"She's a young woman. It's not good.\" He studied the ground, then he went on. \"I've been thinking. It would work well if she could travel with you and your family to the city. Would you take her when you go with Elan?\"\n\nGrace pondered. \"I don't know. Elan would have to decide that. I'm just the passenger. Besides, I'm not sure she'd want to. It has to be her decision.\"\n\nZinovy frowned. Grace was right. That was the problem. He had no control over her. She would do what she wanted. \"I'm sure she'd like to do that. I'll talk to her. Then we'll see if Elan can work it out to take all three of you.\"\n\nIt was an easy solution. With the women gone, he could join the men, or he could proceed to the city alone. One way or another his responsibilities would be over. He would be back where he had started. The freedom would be welcome, he told himself.\n\nHe finished his meal, walked to the pool and bent down to wash his hands. Caleb saw him and paddled over. Sara swam for a while longer, then turned on her back and floated, drifting slowly toward them in the gentle current created by the splashing fountain at the end of the pond.\n\nZinovy sat on the grass and waited, watching the occasional dip of her hands in the water as Caleb chatted by his side. He would be free without these children, yes. But something would be missing as well. His heart skipped a beat. He ignored it and smiled at her as she pulled herself up onto the bank and stood to wring the water from her shirt. Then he told her of the plan.\n\nIt should have been easy, but, of course, it was not. She looked down at him, a frown on her face. \"Why should we go with Grace? We don't know anybody there. She'll be busy with her family. We'd only be in the way.\"\n\n\"You need to be with someone. The others are all leaving. What will you do? You can't go on by yourself.\"\n\n\"I thought you were going to take us.\"\n\nZinovy cleared his throat. \"That wouldn't be good. It's better if you're with people of your own kind. I'll go on to the city by myself.\"\n\nHe should have been more direct. He should have said, 'It will be better if you are with people of your own sex.' For some reason he was reticent to say it that way, and now he could tell, by the flash of emotion in her eyes, that she didn't understand.\n\n\"I see.\" She ducked her head and reached her hand out to the boy. \"Come on, Caleb. It's time for bed.\" Then she turned on her heel and walked away.\n\nAlmost he called to her, \"No, you don't see.\" But he had no better explanation than the one she had assumed. He stood, turned his back and walked away as well.\n\nHe found Grace laying out her bedroll under a tree on the edge of the campsite. The pictures of her family were propped up around the base of the tree. They smiled up at him as he squatted beside her.\n\n\"I think she'll go with you,\" he said, avoiding her eyes.\n\n\"You think? Did you ask?\"\n\nHe nodded.\n\n\"Well, did she say she wanted to go with me?\"\n\n\"Not in so many words.\"\n\nHe shifted from one foot to the other. \"Grace, she has to go with you. She can't stay with me.\"\n\nGrace plucked a violet rose and lifted it to her face. Its soft perfume filled the air between them. \"There's a way she could stay with you, Zinovy,\" she said.\n\nHe looked at her. \"What do you mean?\"\n\nShe didn't answer immediately. She studied him, instead. Finally she said, \"You could marry her.\"\n\n\"Marry her!\" Zinovy shouted. He winced and looked around. Sara squatted on the ground fifty feet away, settling Caleb into a clump of moss. He turned back to Grace and repeated under his breath. \"Marry her! Are you crazy?\"\n\n\"Why would that be crazy?\"\n\nZinovy reached over and took hold of Grace's arm, turning her toward him. \"Look at me. I'm old enough to be her father. You're crazy to say such a thing. It's obscene.\"\n\nGrace studied him. \"But you're not her father. You're not related to her at all.\"\n\nZinovy let out an exasperated sigh. \"It doesn't matter. I'm old, Grace. She's young. Don't you understand?\"\n\nGrace cupped the flower in her hand, caressing the petals as she spoke. \"I don't know that it matters much anymore how old anyone is. Time isn't the same in this world, haven't you noticed?\"\n\n\"Maybe not. But we were born in the old world. I was born in the old world nineteen years before she was. We're a whole generation apart.\"\n\nHe stole a look at Sara again. She stood, hands on hips, watching Caleb reach out for Aslan, waiting for him to settle in his bed. The lion was growing. So was the child. But Sara looked the same. She hadn't aged since the day he'd first seen her. He sighed again, feeling twice his age. \"What am I to do with them?\" he asked, more to himself this time than to Grace.\n\nGrace shrugged. \"I've given you the best advice I have. Maybe she won't need anyone to take care of her. If the city is safe . . . \"\n\nShe didn't finish. Zinovy wasn't listening anyway. His insides were churning. He wondered, absently, where the pain in his chest was coming from.\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy didn't sleep well. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. The problem was not with the mattress.\n\nBy morning he'd decided to come clean with Sara. He needed to convince her to go with Grace and the only way he could do that would be to explain why she couldn't stay with him. It should not be awkward. He would explain rationally. She would understand.\n\nMeanwhile, he would talk to the boys as well. The situation would work out best if he could convince everyone to stay until Grace and Sara were gone. After breakfast he walked across the compound to where the boys were packing up their things. It looked like they planned to start immediately.\n\n\"Simon,\" Zinovy called, \"Ruben. Wait a minute. I need to talk to you.\"\n\nThe boys listened, impatiently at first, then more quietly as the situation became clear to them.\n\n\"I just need you to wait until Elan comes again,\" Zinovy said. \"I need to work this out with him. Once he takes the women you can go.\" He looked around at the rest. \"I guess some of you could go before that. We only need a few to stay.\"\n\n\"No,\" Emery said, speaking for the whole group. \"We'll all stay. Elan had better come soon, though. We don't want to hang around forever.\"\n\nWith relief, Zinovy went off to find Sara. She was sitting on the bank by the pool stroking Aslan, watching Caleb splash in the water. Zinovy sat down. Sara looked up, her face expressionless, then turned back to Caleb.\n\n\"I need to explain something to you,\" Zinovy began.\n\n\"Caleb,\" she called across the pool. \"Stay on this side where I can see you.\" She was not going to make this easy for him.\n\nHe sighed and went on, \"I need to explain why I can't accompany you and Caleb to the city.\"\n\n\"There's no need. You don't owe me an explanation. You have your own life to live. I know that.\"\n\nHe read the hurt in her voice. \"You don't understand,\" he said. \"It's not that I want you to go away. I'd like to travel to the city with you. But, don't you see? There are no others to go with us now. It wouldn't be right for us to go—just the two of us—without others along.\"\n\nShe squinted up at him for a moment. \"Do you mean—are you talking about chaperones?\" she asked.\n\nHe squirmed and nodded, feeling the heat creep up the back of his neck.\n\nShe laughed. The sound made him even more uncomfortable, and he spoke out of that discomfort: \"I know it's ridiculous. I don't mean to say there'd be . . . I mean, you're a child. I'm old enough to be your father. It's not as if . . . \"\n\nHe needed to shut up. Saying more would only make it worse. He stole a glance at her. She sat, quiet now, grinning at him over the cub's furry head.\n\nFinally she said, \"I see. I must say it is a relief that you weren't just trying to get rid of me. I know I'm a nuisance at times, but it was hard for me to think . . . .\" Here she stopped. He had no idea how she would have finished the sentence, but he was relieved. It was over. They seemed to be friends again.\n\n\"So that's why you need to go with Grace,\" he said. \"The boys have agreed to stay until Elan can take you away.\"\n\n\"When will Elan be back?\" she asked.\n\nZinovy shrugged. \"Who knows? He comes and goes as he pleases. He should be back soon. He's promised to take Grace and he knows how much she wants to go.\"\n\nThey sat in a companionable silence for a while. Caleb finished his swim, clambered out of the pool, and came to sit with them. Zinovy ruffled his dripping hair. The boy wriggled around until he was settled into his favorite position on Zinovy's lap, but he didn't stay long. A couple of butterflies flitted by and he was off with Aslan on the chase.\n\nZinovy laughed at them, and Sara looked over.\n\n\"You seem more relaxed,\" she said.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You were pretty stressed for a while. I wondered what you were thinking, but you didn't seem to want to talk about it.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"I was troubled,\" he said. \"Before the mountain. It was hard to deal with the deaths. It's better now.\" He plucked a blade of grass and ran his fingers along the smooth stem.\n\nFinally she asked, \"What happened back there, on the mountain?\"\n\nHe didn't respond immediately. He was willing to tell her, but the experience was not easy to describe. At last he said, \"I don't know. It's hard to explain. I was very angry—angry about Eric especially. Back there I just dealt with it. Or maybe it's more accurate to say the Creator dealt with it.\"\n\n\"Did he talk to you?\" she asked, her eyes wide.\n\nZinovy nodded. \"I think that's what happened. It had to be him. The message was like something he would say. I knew it was truth as soon as I heard.\"\n\n\"What did he tell you?\"\n\n\"Well, he didn't exactly tell me anything.\" Sara looked at him, her brows knitted. Zinovy sighed and tried to explain. \"He asked a question. Something like, 'who are you to tell me what I should do?'\" Zinovy studied the ground without seeing it. \"It wasn't in those very words, but that was what he meant. I knew. He was right. I was angry with him for letting Eric die and he was telling me that it was his business, not mine.\"\n\nThey sat in silence for a while. Then Sara said, \"But it was such an evil thing. He could have prevented it. That sounds like a reason to be angry to me. I've been sort of angry too. I mean, if he lets evil things happen, how can he be a good God? And if he's not good, he doesn't deserve our respect, does he?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Zinovy marveled at how much easier it was becoming to say that. He went on, \"I haven't thought it through. All I know is that when he said it I knew I was wrong. It was like when my mother would scold me for doing something bad.\" He looked at her and grinned. \"All I had to do was see her scowl and I knew I was in for it, and I deserved what was coming.\"\n\nSara's brows remained furrowed. After a time she said, \"I can't believe he's not good.\" She swept her hand across the beautiful vista before them, including Caleb and Aslan playing in the meadow. \"Only a good God could do all this. There has to be a good reason when he lets evil happen.\"\n\n\"That's an oxymoron. How can there be a good reason to let evil happen?\"\n\nIt was yet another unanswerable question. But even if there were no answer to this one, Zinovy knew his real question had been silenced forever on the mountain. He marveled again at the peace that had settled into his spirit.\n\nHer next words echoed his growing conviction: \"Maybe we just have to trust him.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"That's right. Whatever. Good or bad, no matter what he does, I have to trust him. There's no other option for me.\"\n\n* * *\n\nTwo figures stood apart from the conversation, listening to the pair sitting by the water.\n\n\" _One final stumbling block has now become a stepping stone,\" said the one with the scars._\n\nThe red-headed one beside him nodded and smiled. Then he remembered, as if it were yesterday, or forever. He didn't know how long it had been. Time was so confusing in his new body.\n\nCHAPTER TWENTY-NINE\n\nEric thought carefully and it came back to him. Caleb had been taken, and he, Archie and Alex were running through the brush after the Bedouins. The others stopped hard, and he fell into them. Adam and Haidar crouched in their path.\n\nThe knife. The vandal's knife. In the Regulus leader's hand.\n\nNo wait. There are two. There were always two, then. One was in the vandal's hand to kill Zinovy. The other was for the lion.\n\nNo. It's for me. I see it now. I see it too late. Oh, God, no. The other is for Alex.\n\nI am on the ground. I feel the earth under me. Nothing else. There's blood. Much blood. Too much blood for life to stay.\n\nZinovy comes. Fast. He looks around. Looks at me. His face is ashen. I see my death in his eyes. I try to speak—to tell him it's okay. But there is no voice.\n\nThere is only the rainbow sky, dimming. Dark.\n\nNo! Not dark! Light! Blazing light!\n\nThere. In front of me. A sea of glass. A white, golden throne. A long, flowing robe filling the floor with iridescent brightness.\n\nI raise my head. My eyes go up the robe, up, up into the growing brightness until I see his face. He reaches out and his robe falls away from his hands. I see the scars. The sight overwhelms me. I fall down. I cannot look up.\n\nThen he is lifting my face.\n\n* * *\n\n\"It's you!\" Eric whispered into the warm brown eyes.\n\nThe Bright One smiled down at him and diamonds flashed. They dipped and swayed, like dancers, meeting and parting, darting so near he thought he'd be hit, then dashing off again to play in the kaleidoscopic of color that flooded the throne room.\n\nHe wanted to be hit. He yearned to be part of the dance.\n\nThen the one on the throne spoke: \"Welcome, Eric!\"\n\nThe sound of the river filled the room. The diamonds collided and shattered over his head. The brightness fell, with the river, over and around him, and joy exploded inside him. The river embraced the bright dancers, flowed around them and through them like a child's laughter—pure joy expressed in sight and sound. Eric was caught up in the wonder of the dance.\n\n\"Welcome home, both of you.\"\n\nLater, when he could breathe again, he stood in awe and listened as the bright ones reported to the King.\n\n\"It is enough,\" the King said. \"They must be removed.\"\n\n\"Where do we take them?\" Elan asked. \"To the other side?\"\n\n\"The leader, yes. Take Adam to the other side. And the Bedouin warriors.\"\n\nHe turned, then, to smile down on Eric once more. \"This one can go with you.\" He smiled at the other bright one as well. \"You can go too, Alex. It is right that you both be there.\"\n\nElan spoke again. \"What about Haidar? What do we do with him?\"\n\nThe King looked at Elan for a moment. Then he said, \"Leave Haidar. He still has business here.\"\n\n* * *\n\nLunch was over. It had been nice to eat without a churning stomach. Zinovy was glad he'd talked to Sara. The air was clear between them now, and he was determined to keep it that way until she left with Elan. When they got to the city she would find other people. She could go her own way. Zinovy would go his, and they would part friends.\n\nThe parting was not pleasant to consider, but it would have to come. She was young. She would need to begin a new life. He put his hands behind his head, sat back against a sturdy oak tree and looked up through the glimmering branches.\n\nA blaze of light shot into his eyes. He winced and blinked several times, but the blaze was still there. Something wasn't right. Then a voice spoke from the brilliance.\n\n\"Zinovy, it's me.\"\n\nThe voice was vaguely familiar. What the . . . ? Zinovy opened one eye and squinted into the brightness. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"I said, it's me—Eric. Eric Glaston.\"\n\nHe hadn't heard right. Either that or he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming.\n\nThen the glory dimmed and in front of him stood a familiar figure, one he'd last seen sprawled on crimson ground drenched in his own blood.\n\n\"It can't be,\" Zinovy mumbled to himself. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.\n\n\"Yeah, mate, I'm in my new body, see?\" Eric touched his chest with ten glowing fingertips. It was definitely Eric's grin.\n\nZinovy's mind whirled with all the possibilities—the mistake he must have made, the dream he must be having.\n\nBut, no, there had been no mistake. He remembered it all vividly. Eric had died. There was no doubt. The blood had been everywhere—too much blood for him to have survived.\n\nZinovy pinched himself. It was no dream. Every fiber of his being was awake and alert.\n\nHe closed his eyes, then opened them. Eric was still there, standing before him, vibrant and pulsing with life. His eyes sparkled with laughter at Zinovy's bewilderment as he waited for a response to his greeting.\n\n\"But,\" Zinovy stammered in his confusion. \"You were dead. I saw you with your throat slit.\" Zinovy was talking to a dead man. He must be crazy. Instinctively he reached out to the bright body, expecting to touch only air.\n\nEric threw back his head and laughed again. Zinovy saw a faint scar running across the base of his throat. \"Yeah, Mate. I'm real. Feel me.\" He grasped Zinovy's arm and squeezed hard. The hand was firm. Flesh and bone as before. This was definitely not a ghost.\n\nEric leaned over and looked into Zinovy's face. \"I'm one of the bright ones now. Isn't that something? When you die in this new world you become one of the bright ones.\"\n\nZinovy finally closed his mouth. \"Where's Archie?\" he asked, still in shock, but beginning to think again.\n\nEric straightened, his brow creased. \"Archie?\"\n\n\"Where are Archie and Alex?\"\n\n\"Alex is here somewhere. He came with us.\" Eric looked over Zinovy's shoulder toward the compound. \"He's probably off talking to the boys.\" Then he looked back. \"I haven't seen Archie. Isn't he here with you?\"\n\nZinovy stood, transfixed, remembering the murder scene—the two empty pools of blood and Archie's body sprawled beside them.\n\nAwareness dawned on Eric's bright face. \"Did Archie die too?\"\n\nZinovy nodded.\n\nEric frowned and studied the ground. \"Gosh. I don't know. I haven't seen him since that day we took off looking for Caleb. Things moved kind of fast after that. I didn't notice what happened to him.\" He looked up. \"I thought he'd gotten away.\"\n\nThey stood quietly for a moment. Gradually, Zinovy's confusion gave way to a reluctant realization. He would not see Archie again. Archie had gone somewhere else. Maybe he was with Rudzinski and Redmond, but he was not here.\n\nZinovy looked up at Eric again, half afraid he would be gone—half afraid he wouldn't. His mind whirled. His eyes were not deceiving him. Eric was there, before him, and Eric had been dead, that was a certainty. Two certainties that contradicted each other. He was baffled, not even able to rejoice yet that his friend was back.\n\nEric explained: \"I was still there when you came. I heard you cry out. I wanted to answer you, but I couldn't. Then the next moment I'd gone from that place and come to this one. I kind of just skipped over the being dead part,\" he said.\n\nWhen Zinovy continued to stare he went on. \"It's like the book said, remember? About Jesus coming back to life? Oh, that's right. Maybe we didn't get that far. It's right at the end where they go to the tomb and they can't find him. It was because he was gone. He was up and at it again, just like me.\" Eric laughed. \"I know it sounds weird, but it's the truth. You know how they always said the truth is stranger than fiction? Well, it sure is.\"\n\nZinovy remembered Sara's remark: It's only strange because you aren't used to it. Would he ever get used to the things that were happening around him?\n\nEric babbled on. \"Zinovy, it's so interesting. You know the colors—the rainbow of colors? You haven't seen anything yet. That's just a taste of what it's really like. When you die you get new eyes. You get to see so many things. There are colors and shapes and sounds and smells like we never could imagine.\"\n\nBut Zinovy was still in the meadow, standing beside the pool of blood. \"Was it Adam who killed you?\" The strangeness of this line of questioning struck him again, but he needed to know the answer.\n\nEric nodded. \"He used the butcher knife. You know, the one we thought the vandals had taken.\"\n\n\"I tried to find him after that. I would have killed him.\"\n\n\"No need to do that. We took care of him.\"\n\n\"You killed him?\"\n\n\"Gosh, no. We just took him away.\"\n\n\"But where? Do you mean to another world?\"\n\n\"No, no. To the other side of this world. Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean I guess, or the Atlantic. I'm not sure which. It's all different there now you know.\" Eric laughed. \"Adam's gone walkabout. It'll take him a while to find his way back.\"\n\n\"What's it like—the other side? Is there water?\"\n\n\"Sure there's water. Lots of springs and lakes, kind of like on the mountaintop here. It's garden there too, like it is here. He won't starve. But there's no river—nothing he can follow to the city.\"\n\nEric straightened, then, and the light on his face sparkled more brilliantly. \"Hey. I just remembered . . . \" He reached out and drew another bright figure into Zinovy's range of vision. \"I'd like you to meet my friend, Serena. Here they call her Serene.\"\n\nThe bright newcomer smiled and held out her hand. Zinovy took it, and nodded, speechless in his surprise.\n\n* * *\n\nThe camp was astir. The boys huddled around Alex who talked and laughed and held out his arms so they could pinch him. Zinovy stood apart, feeling as never before the loneliness of leadership, thinking about Archie.\n\nSensing a presence by his side, he turned, hoping to find the commander beside him. The one with the nail-scarred hands stood there instead.\n\nZinovy spoke his thoughts aloud, knowing the presence had been there all along and would understand.\n\n\"What about Archie? Didn't you walk with him? He was a good man.\"\n\nThe Savior inclined his head. \"I was there. I spoke to him.\"\n\n\"And . . . ?\" Zinovy asked, waiting for an answer that did not come.\n\n\"Did he hear you?\" Zinovy prodded, and waited again.\n\nFinally his companion said, \"I honor choices, Zinovy. You know that.\"\n\n\"But Archie didn't make a choice. He hadn't yet decided about these things.\" Even as he said the words he knew they were not true. No decision was still a decision, of course. Amazing how he could read the thoughts of the one beside him.\n\n\"Archie chose to declare his independence. We honored that declaration.\"\n\nZinovy was quiet, thinking hard. \"And Graham? Did Graham choose as well?\"\n\nThe Savior nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes.\n\n\"He was so young. He should have had more time.\"\n\n\"Time is a gift, my friend. It's a gift that is given, breath by breath, moment by moment. There is no guarantee for any mortal that the gift will go on past that moment's breath.\"\n\nZinovy looked up to say something else, but the Presence was no longer visible.\n\nEric headed across the compound toward Zinovy, striding easily, his feet nearly touching the ground, but not quite. \"So have you found out who Elan is yet?\" the boy asked as he approached.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nEric stopped, drew his brows together and colored. \"Oh, never mind. You'll find out when you need to. I just thought she had told you already.\"\n\n\"Who had told us? What? Tell me.\"\n\nEric shook his head. \"Nah. I can't. You'll find out soon enough.\" And he was gone too.\n\n* * *\n\nElan returned the next day. Emery came back from a trip to the facilities and announced his arrival.\n\n\"He's over there. He's stopped to talk to Caleb. You wanted to see him didn't you? After you talk to him can we go?\"\n\n\"Hold tight, Emery. We'll see.\"\n\nZinovy headed toward the clump of golden flowers Caleb was harvesting. Elan stood over the boy. Both of them were talking as Caleb picked the bright blooms. Elan looked up as Zinovy approached.\n\n\"Hello,\" he said. \"I hear you've talked to Eric and Alex.\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"It was a great surprise,\" he said, understating drastically. \"But I need to talk to you about something else.\"\n\n\"That's fine. We can step over here. Caleb, remember to take only as many as you can carry. There will be more for you tomorrow if you want them.\"\n\nElan and Zinovy moved away from the boy. \"What's on your mind?\" the bright one asked.\n\nZinovy went right to the point. \"When you take Grace to her family you must take Sara and Caleb also.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nZinovy groaned. How many times must he go over this? He leaned into Elan's face and explained, enunciating carefully. \"Sara and Caleb must go because when Grace leaves there will be no women in our group. The boys and Charles are going as well. I'll be left alone with Sara.\" He stopped, then, waiting for a sign that Elan understood the implications of his remarks.\n\nElan smiled. \"And you wouldn't like that—to be left with Sara?\"\n\nExasperation tightened Zinovy's throat. \"It has nothing to do with what I would like,\" he squawked. \"Do you not see? It's inappropriate.\"\n\n\"Yes, I see. It would not be appropriate.\"\n\nRelief flooded over Zinovy. Finally, someone was thinking properly.\n\n\"But it would be appropriate if you were married, wouldn't it?\"\n\nAgain, Zinovy found himself shouting the word: \"Married?\" Again he looked around to see if Sara was nearby. She was not.\n\nHe turned back to the bright one. \"Elan, I don't understand. That you, of all people, should suggest such a thing—it's crazy.\"\n\nElan persisted. \"You wouldn't want to marry Sara?\"\n\n\"That's not the point. The point is she would not want to marry me. I don't know why you'd even think such a thing.\"\n\n\"What makes you think she wouldn't want to marry you?\"\n\nZinovy was not crazy, but that was going to change if these questions didn't stop. Again he leaned into Elan's face. \"Elan, look at me. I am an old man. Sara is half my age.\"\n\n\"Right now she is,\" Elan said. \"But it won't always be true. In fifty years, for example, there won't be such a difference in your ages. In a hundred years the difference will be negligible.\"\n\nZinovy stopped and glared at him. \"Fifty years from now I'll be dead.\"\n\nElan continued walking and Zinovy moved to catch up.\n\n\"Where's your watch, Zinovy?\" the bright one asked.\n\nZinovy stared at him, diverted by the change of subject. \"It broke. A long time ago.\"\n\nElan looked at him and smiled.\n\nThen it struck him. \"Is there no more time, then?\"\n\n\"No, no. Time is not finished. It still passes, but not as quickly, so it's not as relevant.\" He turned and gestured at the brilliant scene before them. \"Look around you, my friend. The world is full of life. Every breath you take, every bite you eat, is life. Death will come eventually, but it will be a while. You will live a long time.\" Again he looked at Zinovy and added, \"You will love a long time.\"\n\nZinovy believed him, but he was not cheered. By now he knew. He would love forever. But an eternal love that could never be consummated would be an eternal torment. A wondrous torment, to be sure, but a torment just the same. He sighed.\n\n\"Even so,\" he said to Elan, \"You need to take her. It won't work the other way.\"\n\nElan shrugged. \"If you say so. Have you talked to her about going with Grace?\"\n\nZinovy nodded. \"She understands. She'll go with you.\"\n\n* * *\n\nAnd she would have gone, but Caleb changed their plans.\n\n\"I don't want to go,\" he wailed when Sara told him they'd be leaving Zinovy behind. \"I'm going to stay with Novy.\"\n\nCaleb wouldn't budge. Elan could have abducted him, but the boy had had enough of kidnappings. Zinovy didn't want to put him through another.\n\n\"I suppose he could stay with you and I could go with Grace,\" Sara suggested.\n\nBut Caleb would have none of that either. \"I want you both,\" he cried, on the verge of another tantrum. The tears flowed so forcefully that no one had the heart to deny him.\n\nFinally Grace came to the rescue. \"Look,\" she said. \"I'll stay here for now. I've been feeling guilty about leaving anyway. We're all kind of deserting the ship. I'll finish my tour of duty with the Gaia crew.\"\n\nZinovy knew what the decision would cost her. \"You're sure?\"\n\nShe nodded. Sara gave her a hug and Zinovy left them. He still had difficulty with emotions.\n\nWhen the boys heard the news, they were crestfallen. \"How can we go if she must stay?\" Raheem asked. Of all the boys, he was the closest to Grace.\n\n\"We'll never get to the city at this rate,\" Simon grumbled.\n\nZinovy spoke up. \"You can go,\" he told them. \"You weren't part of the Gaia crew. You made no commitment to the mission. It's right that Grace stays, but you're under no obligation.\" He looked over at Charles who stood listening to the discussion. \"Charles,\" he added. \"What's your choice?\"\n\nBefore Charles could answer, Elan spoke. \"Charles will stay with you as well.\"\n\n\"What?\" The pudgy man straightened and frowned at Elan. \"You can't tell me what to do. I'll go if I want to.\"\n\nZinovy read compassion in the bright one's eyes, but the tone was firm. \"You are free to leave if you choose, Charles, but you won't reach your destination any sooner if you go now. You're not ready for the city. You haven't met the King yet. No one can enter the city without knowing the King.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? How can I meet the king if I don't go to the city? I thought that was where he lived.\"\n\n\"There are ways, Charles. There have always been ways, but you've never been willing.\"\n\nCharles frowned. \"I don't know what you're talking about.\"\n\n\"Never mind. It will come in time. But you'll do well to stay with Zinovy and Grace for now.\" And again Elan was gone.\n\n* * *\n\n\"Caleb, come sit down while you eat.\"\n\nSara patted the moss by her side. Across the meadow Caleb stooped down. One small hand grasped a juicy sandwich. With the other arm he scooped up Aslan in an awkward capture that left the cub squirming for a foothold in empty air.\n\n\"Why?\" came the standard five-year-old reply, as the boy lowered the wriggling lion into a circle of shrubbery obviously intended to be a cage.\n\n\"Because you shouldn't eat and run at the same time.\"\n\nThe boy glanced at her, held his sandwich aloft, and watched his pet clamber back over the low wall of shrubs. Then, lifting both arms and his round face to the sky, he danced a jig, unable to control the urge for movement.\n\n\"Why can't I do both?\" he asked. \"I'm not going to fall.\"\n\nZinovy's heart swelled watching the boy. He could not believe how dear these people had become to him. He who, for all these years, had so carefully contained his emotions—had so jealously defended that fortress against all assault—had somehow missed a parry. Without deliberation these two had thrust their swords home, and the heart-swell he felt was not unlike the pain of a blade penetrating a chest he had thought was invincible. He smiled at the antics of the boy.\n\nThen the smile vanished. The weeks had rushed by. In a few days they would reach the city. Before then he had to decide what to do with these two people. He could not leave them unprotected. Eventually Sara would have to marry. That much was clear.\n\nOnce more he ran through the possibilities. It should be one of the boys. If only Alex had lived. He would have been her best prospect. None of the others were ready for the responsibility of marriage, especially marriage with a young child in tow.\n\n\"Caleb, come here right now.\" Sara's voice held an edge the child had come to recognize. He came trudging back, commanding Aslan to follow. His half-eaten sandwich trailed limply from his hand, a subtle lure to the lion who ignored the bait, still cavorting in the tall grass around the ineffectual shrubbery cage.\n\n\"It's not good to do two things at once.\" Sara explained, as Caleb settled down in the cradle of Zinovy's cross-legged lap. \"You can enjoy each thing better if you do it by itself.\" She looked at him, studying his reaction to her remark. Then, apparently satisfied that he had gotten the message, she took a bite of her apple.\n\nZinovy wrapped his arms around the little boy and studied Sara's face. He remembered how it had looked when he first saw it—tense, haggard, eyes darting with fear. She looked so different now. She hadn't aged, but she had grown up. She was beautiful. When had it happened? Somewhere on the journey.\n\nSara glanced at him, then down at Caleb, who had already fallen asleep in his arms. Her face softened. Zinovy watched the glow in her eyes reach out across the short distance between them and touch the face of the young child. A pang of jealousy shot through him. He lifted the boy and laid him in the grass.\n\nHe longed to tell her how he felt. They shared so much now. They talked about everything. But this—Oh, no. This was different. He could never let her see how much she meant to him. He thought about Grace and Elan's suggestion that he marry her. The idea still shocked him. It would shock her as well.\n\nHe pictured himself asking her. How would he do it? He would say, \"You need someone to take care of you. I would like to have the job of it.\" No, no. She would not understand. He would have to come right out and tell her, \"I love you. I want to marry you.\"\n\nHe could see her face if he said those words, could see the awareness dawn, then the revulsion and the quick mask she would pull down over her eyes. She would mask her eyes because she would not want to hurt him. She would make some kind of excuse—probably say she was not ready to get married, or some such thing.\n\nBut the pulling down of the mask would hurt him worse than letting her go, and afterward their friendship would be ruined. He would not be able to stand that.\n\nNo. It could never happen. He would have to find another way to provide for her. Somewhere there would be another man—the right one. He breathed a silent prayer. It came out as a small groan.\n\n\"Earth to Zinovy.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nShe sighed. \"You're doing it again. You're off in your own little world. What are you thinking about?\"\n\nHe smiled at her. \"I was thinking what a good mother you'll make some day.\"\n\nShe looked at him and raised her eyebrows. He had shocked her after all.\n\nHe laughed. \"I can see it now. You'll have a little girl with raven black hair and dark blue eyes who stomps her feet and screams when she doesn't get what she wants.\"\n\nHer back went rigid and her eyes snapped. She pursed her lips. Then she said, \"And a little boy with wavy hair and gray eyes and a dimple in his chin who thinks he knows everything and is as stubborn as . . . \"\n\nShe stopped mid-sentence. Her face went white and her jaw dropped. She looked away. The color crept up the back of her neck and spread to her cheeks.\n\nZinovy sat, still as a statue, trying to digest what she'd just said. Finally he spoke quietly. \"As stubborn as what, Sara?\"\n\nShe didn't respond at first. He wondered if she would ever speak. Then she said, just as quietly, \"As stubborn as you, Zinovy.\"\n\nHe stared at her, not moving, not able, at first, to reach out toward the hope his heart was bursting to believe.\n\nShe continued to look away, but she couldn't avoid his eyes forever. Finally she turned back. The blush had faded. In its place was a soft dignity and there was a pleading in her eyes.\n\n\"I didn't mean to say that. I was only reacting to what you said, that's all.\"\n\nShe said more, talking fast, but Zinovy didn't hear another word. He'd begun to move toward her and he was preoccupied with a totally different thought. He was wondering what her mouth tasted like.\n\nIt tasted like apple.\n\nCHAPTER THIRTY\n\nIt was supposed to have been a quiet wedding.\n\n\"It's always this way,\" Charles explained to Zinovy as they stood under a coconut tree. \"The groom thinks it's going to be a simple affair. A few flowers. Some presents. The in-laws. Then, by the time the day arrives it's turned into a major production. Get used to it, Zinovy. Let me tell you. It's out of your control.\"\n\nThey'd been looking over the guest list. Grace had torn two pages from the logbook and she and Sara had pored over them for what seemed like hours. The list was long, and the names she'd written down made the hair on the back of Zinovy's neck stand on end. Zinovy had no idea how she'd come up with them. Elan must have helped her.\n\nMeanwhile, Sara and Grace moved around the oasis making preparations. Nothing seemed needed. Decorations were already in place. The setting was beautiful. But apparently they needed to choose just the right spot for the ceremony.\n\nThe crew had been settled at this oasis for some time. They were resting after five days of easy travel. They had received news of the upcoming wedding with enthusiasm. The Muellers had traveled with them. All were enthusiastic about the wedding, and happy for Zinovy and Sara. It didn't take the boys too long to figure out that once the ceremony was over they'd be free to travel on as fast as they liked.\n\n\"We can head out right after the wedding,\" Ruben had said. \"They won't want us sticking around anyway.\"\n\n\"Yeah. No more need for chaperones,\" laughed Simon.\n\nAnd so the whole crew got into the planning. The wedding was set for the next afternoon. There would be a reception—an evening feast that included a new wine Emery and Raheem had discovered while digging the latrine two days before.\n\n\"This is the nectar of the gods,\" the boys boasted. \"It's from a tuber growing under the netting bushes we use for chairs. Raheem chopped into one and the scent nearly knocked us over.\"\n\nIt had taken them a while to finish the digging. Such hard work required frequent refreshment. But the boys would let no one else sample the new beverage. \"We'll save it for the wedding reception. Everyone can celebrate then.\"\n\nFinally the next day dawned. Zinovy was nervous. It was not just his upcoming marriage. That would have been enough, by itself, to swell his heart to the bursting point. But there was more.\n\nGuests had been drifting in all morning. Zinovy wasn't sure where they came from, but he suspected it was the city. An unusual energy filled the air. The music Zinovy had heard when they first reached the mountaintop had become more distinct with each day of their journey across the plateau. Today it seemed to resonate around them, singing softly in the background, the strains of a glorious wedding march. It soothed the edges of Zinovy's excitement—kept him at peace in the midst of emotions that otherwise might have swept him away. The day was to be full of small surprises.\n\nThe first came at midday. Zinovy had found a mini-oasis about a mile away that he'd been preparing as a honeymoon suite. He'd gone that morning one last time to check that all was in order. As he came back into the compound, the surprise came walking toward him.\n\nHe was a tall man and he walked toward Zinovy with a steady stride. When they met, he held out his hand. \"Hello, my son,\" he said. There were tears in the gray eyes.\n\nZinovy's jaw dropped. He ignored the outstretched hand and moved, instead, into the strong arms of the father he'd never met. He'd seen his parents' names on the guest list, but hadn't quite believed they would actually be there.\n\nNow his mother joined them, smiling softly at his father's side. Their embrace was long and sweet and wet with tears.\n\n\"Last time I saw you . . . \" Zinovy stopped, choking on his tears.\n\nHis mother's arms tightened around him. \"The pain has been gone forever,\" she said. Then she pulled herself away. \"Your father has something for you.\"\n\nZinovy reached out and took the small ring from the palm of his father's hand. It gleamed in the brightness, pure and white. \"We had it made for you in the city. There are many gifted goldsmiths there.\"\n\n\"It is the right size,\" his mother said. \"Your father measured her finger while she slept.\" She looked up and across the compound. \"Come. It is time.\" She led them to the place by the side of the pool where Elan waited, Eric's little red book in hand.\n\n\"Dearly beloved,\" Elan began.\n\n\"Move over, Raheem,\" Mike said. \"I can't see around you.\"\n\n\"I cannot move over. You move up behind Peter.\"\n\nElan waited while the audience settled itself.\n\n\"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the presence of God to witness the marriage of this man and this woman.\" He looked up. \"It seems they are in love.\"\n\nThere were snickers from the back of the crowd. \"That is pretty darn apparent, if you ask me,\" Simon said.\n\nElan glanced at the boys and smiled. \"Love is a good thing.\" Then he turned back to the couple before him. \"It is the best thing. However, it will not always be an easy thing. Today, love comes naturally to you both.\"\n\nZinovy looked down at the woman by his side. He couldn't help but see her as she had come into his life—the scrawny tomboy, wriggling underneath him as he captured her on that first day. He remembered the tense body in his arms as he held her after the vandal attack, and the limp body he'd lifted from the scene of Caleb's kidnapping. He felt again the anguish of those moments and shuddered. Then she materialized before him—real and warm and smiling. Yes. It was so easy to love this woman.\n\nElan went on. \"But in the next hundred years there will be many times when your love for each other will require that you make a choice. You will have to choose whether to love the other or to love yourself.\" Here Elan looked intently into their faces. \"God speaks of the kind of love you are to have in the Gospel of John.\" He opened the book and read: \"This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you.\"\n\nElan looked up again. \"How did God love you? He gave his life for you.\" A vision of the Savior's scars flashed before Zinovy's eyes.\n\n\"Every day from now on you must each choose to give up your life for the other. In doing this—in losing your lives for each other—you will find life. Your life will begin fresh and new each time you give it up for the sake of the other.\n\n\"This love is blessed by heaven,\" Elan continued. Zinovy looked across to where the nail-scarred man stood quietly, arms folded, under a fig tree. The Savior smiled and Zinovy returned the smile. Then he turned back to the beautiful woman before him.\n\nShe looked up. He was drowning in the blue of her eyes when Elan's voice finally penetrated. \"Zinovy.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nThe audience chuckled.\n\n\"Do you, Zinovy Efimovich Kozlov, take this woman to be your wife? With God's help, will you love, cherish and protect her? Will you comfort, support and keep her, submit to and honor her, and, forsaking all others, keep yourself for her alone as long as you both shall live?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Zinovy replied, dazed still with the wonder of it all.\n\n\"No, no.\" The loud whisper came from Ruben.\n\nZinovy turned and looked at him. \"What?\"\n\n\"Not 'yes.' You say 'I do.' You don't say 'yes.'\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Zinovy turned back to his bride and said softly, \"I do.\"\n\n\"And do you, Sara Evelyn Coe, take this man—\"\n\nZinovy interrupted. \"That's your name? Sara Evelyn Coe?\" He savored the strange sound on his lips. \"I didn't know. It's so simple.\"\n\nShe smiled and nodded. \"My grandmother was Evelyn. And my grandfather's name was Cohen. He changed it to Coe when he moved to the States.\"\n\nA restless stirring erupted from behind the bemused couple. \"Can we get on with it?\" Emery said. \"We'll never make it to the city at this rate.\"\n\n\"Ah, shut up, Emery. It's a wedding for cripes sake. You've been away from civilization for three months and you've forgotten how to act at a wedding?\" Simon folded his arms across his chest and said, \"Go ahead Zinovy. Don't pay any attention to these guys.\"\n\nA loud \"Shhhh\" came from Raheem, settling everyone. Then they listened to Sara make her promise.\n\nIn a minute it was over. In another minute the groom had almost finished kissing the bride. Caleb was running out of patience. He tugged at Zinovy's sleeve. \"Can we eat now?\" he asked.\n\nSo the ceremony ended with a laugh, softened by the tenderness of the moment, and the crowd gathered for the wedding feast.\n\n\"It is like the first wedding feast, in the Garden of Eden,\" the Savior said to Zinovy as they stood apart eating the delicacies Grace and Michelle had gathered for them.\n\n\"You were at that wedding too?\" Zinovy asked, amazed.\n\n\"I am at every wedding,\" the Savior replied. \"It has been so since the beginning.\"\n\nThen the Lord lifted his eyes and looked past the groom to the edge of the crowd. \"I must go,\" he said to Zinovy. \"It's time.\" And he walked over to where Elan stood talking with Charles.\n\nSara came up then. Zinovy leaned down, kissed her eyelashes, curled an arm around her waist and led her over to their guests. His mother was standing with a young woman near the Savior and Elan. The woman looked up at him as they approached and smiled. Her look was neither shy nor bold, yet her eyes seemed to see clear through him. Zinovy was taken with her beauty, but the thing that struck him the most was the wisdom in her face. Sara pulled out of his arm and embraced the woman. Then she said, \"Zinovy, I would like you to meet my mother.\"\n\nHe should have known. The wisdom he'd seen in her face was a reflection of the simple wisdom her daughter possessed. He leaned over and kissed that wise face. Then Elan's voice broke into the happy chatter of the crowd. The chatter stopped immediately and every eye turned at the first words that came from the bright one's mouth.\n\n* * *\n\nElan was speaking to Charles. \"Do you remember the days, long ago, when I tried to tell you about the one I had come to know as my Savior and Lord and you wouldn't believe he existed?\"\n\nCharles' brow furrowed. \"Huh?\"\n\nElan went on. \"Do you remember how you said, 'I am a scientist. I believe what I see. If he is real, he can come and stand in front of me. Then I'll believe.' Do you remember that, Charles?\"\n\nZinovy watched Charles' face turn pale—saw his jaw drop.\n\n\"I told you, remember, that I'd try to arrange it.\"\n\nBy now Charles was trembling. The piece of fruit he'd been eating slipped from his fingers.\n\n\"Well, it's taken some time. But I'm finally able to accommodate your request.\" Elan stepped back and drew the Bright One forward. \"Charles, I'd like you to meet the King.\"\n\nBut Charles' eyes were on Elan. \"No. It's not. It can't be . . . \" He spoke her name as a question: \"Elaine?\" And then he fainted.\n\n* * *\n\nThe eventful day drew to an end. Charles revived. Elan, or Elaine, finished the introductions and the mystery was explained to the others.\n\nZinovy stood with his new wife. \"How could he have not known her all this time?\"\n\nSara shrugged. \"It's amazing what people can't see when their spirits are out of tune with reality,\" she reminded him.\n\n\"But it seemed Elan was a man. How did we miss that?\"\n\n\"We didn't have the eyes for it either, I guess. He, I mean she, never said she was male. We just assumed.\" She frowned. \"But Caleb didn't miss it. He knew she was female.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Remember when he described her to us? He said she was like a mother—like a mother with a little child.\"\n\nZinovy remembered. \"She was a mother. She had a child.\"\n\n\"Really? How do you know?\"\n\n\"Charles told me. The child died. Charles was partly to blame. It was a hard thing for them both.\"\n\nSara stood silently for a moment. \"She would have had to forgive him.\" Another pause. \"So she knew what she was talking about.\"\n\nZinovy turned her to him and lifted her chin with his hand. \"And so do you.\" He smiled. \"It was good to meet your mother today.\"\n\nShe smiled back, then she dropped her head on his shoulder. \"I'm tired. Can we go?\"\n\nZinovy looked around. Most of the wedding guests had returned to the city. The rest were talking together excitedly. The boys hovered over Alex whose metamorphosis had made him a celebrity. They'd consumed quite a lot of the wedding wine and they looked a little loopy. Charles, nearly recovered from his shock, but still somewhat bemused, stood with Elan who was talking to Grace and Eric. The Muellers were at the pond with the children.\n\n\"Yes, we can go. It appears they have all forgotten us.\" He looked down at her. \"Elan will take care of Caleb?\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Then we'll be off.\" He picked her up and headed away from the crowd.\n\n\"You don't have to carry me,\" she giggled into his neck.\n\n\"I know. But I must carry you over the threshold of our first dwelling together, and it's a very wide threshold. Must be at least half a mile.\"\n\nHe picked his way around a living bouquet of lilies, then redirected toward the spires of palms that marked his destination in the distance.\n\n\"That's far away. You can't carry me all that way.\"\n\n\"I am a strong man,\" he boasted. \"I can do it.\" Then he huffed and puffed and stumbled over a clump of moss, enjoying the sound of her laughter and the feel of her breasts against his body as she clung to him more tightly.\n\nHe carried her all the way to the oasis. She crowed with delight at the ring of apple trees surrounding the quarters he'd chosen for their first night together. Once more he kissed her, savoring again the sweet flavor of her mouth. Then he carried her into the blossom- scented arbor and laid her on the mossy bed.\n\nThat night they peeked through a crack in the gates of heaven and reveled in the sliver of glory that beamed back at them. Together, they began to learn how it was meant to be.\n\n* * *\n\n\"I've brought you a friend, Caleb,\" Elan said, leading a bright child to him. \"This is Riley.\"\n\nElan turned to the newcomer. \"Caleb's been on a long journey, but it's almost over. The King and I thought you'd enjoy knowing each other.\"\n\nCaleb studied the bright one. He is older than me. Probably ten, or maybe seven. He looked too small to be a bright one, but he wore the bright ones' white clothes, and he stepped softly. He wasn't just another kid, like Caleb, for sure.\n\nIt would be fun to have a friend again. Peter and Jenna had been gone a long time—probably for three whole days. Their mommy and daddy had kept them behind to live in the oasis where Sara and Zinovy got married. And his other friends—Simon and Ruben and Emery and the rest of the boys—they had gone ahead. They were probably far away now. They were in a hurry to go to the city. The man with the shoes who had rescued him from the kidnappers on the horse had gone with them.\n\nHere Caleb paused, remembering the sad part. The commander and Graham—they had been killed. And Alex and the orange-headed man were bright ones now. They weren't around anymore. So now there was no one left but Grace, and she was going away too.\n\nShe had explained it to him. \"I have three boys of my own,\" she'd said. \"They are with their daddy, and I want to be with them. I love you, but my little boys need me and I have to go. Zinovy and Sara will be back soon and you will be with them.\" Elan was taking Grace away today, and Caleb began to feel very lonesome.\n\nEven as he stood there, studying the newcomer, Grace walked up.\n\n\"Are we ready?\" she said to Elan.\n\nThe bright one nodded. \"I'm taking Grace to her family now,\" he said to Caleb. \"I'll be back soon. You and Riley can play together while I'm gone.\"\n\nGrace stooped and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Then Elan took her hand and they both disappeared.\n\nFor a while, Caleb watched the glittering air where they'd been. His heart shivered. It wasn't cold, but something made him feel kind of anxious. 'Anxious' was another word he had learned from Sara. 'Anxious' and 'probably.' He knew them both now. He was growing up to be a big boy. He could almost take care of himself. All the same, he hoped Elan would come back soon.\n\nHe turned to his new friend, the one who stood waiting quietly beside him. Neither spoke for a while. The not speaking was okay. They were just thinking thoughts without talking. But eventually Caleb's curiosity made words come into his mouth. He looked at his companion out of the corner of his eye. \"Did you die?\" he asked. \"Is that why you're a bright one?\"\n\nThe child nodded.\n\n\"Was it scary?\"\n\nHis friend's brow furrowed. \"I guess it was. I don't remember.\"\n\nCaleb studied the ground. \"My mommy and daddy died.\"\n\n\"Did they know the King?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think so.\"\n\n\"Then they're okay.\"\n\nCaleb was silent.\n\nAfter a while the small bright one went on. \"Dying is only a teensy part of living, you know. Just a minute of it. And when you know the King it's easy. You just go into his arms.\"\n\n\"Was He there when you died?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nCaleb picked a caterpillar off a nearby leaf and cradled it in the palm of his hand. He frowned. \"If He was there, why didn't He stop you from dying?\"\n\nHis new friend leaned over and touched the furry insect with a soft finger. \"I don't know. Probably it was time for me to go home.\" The child straightened and smiled at Caleb. \"It's okay even if you die, you know. God will save you, no matter what. You can trust Him always.\"\n\nAslan galloped up then. Caleb reached down and captured him. \"This is my pet lion,\" he told the bright one. \"His name is Aslan. Do you know Aslan? I mean the real Aslan—the one in the book?\"\n\n\"You mean the good lion who rescued Narnia?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"He was like God, wasn't he? Or God was like him. They were both good.\"\n\n\"Yes, but they weren't safe,\" Caleb reminded him.\n\nThe two pondered this deep thought for a while.\n\n\"Do you want to go swimming?\" Caleb asked. \"There's a pool here, you know. Let's play tag.\"\n\nHe hadn't finished talking before his companion was off running toward the pool. \"Last one there is 'it,'\" the young rascal called over a bright shoulder.\n\n\"That's no fair,\" Caleb wailed. \"You can run faster than I can.\"\n\nCaleb was first to reach the pool after all. He suspected his friend had slowed down on purpose, but he didn't say anything. It didn't matter anyway. Both of them would take turns being \"it.\" Taking turns was the only way to have fun when you played tag. Sara had taught him that.\n\nA pang of loneliness touched him, but it was gone in a minute. Riley grabbed hold of his shirttail, and he was off after the slippery creature before he had time to think of his lost loved ones again.\n\nThe two played in the pool for a long time. Finally Caleb crawled up onto the bank and the bright one followed.\n\n\"Could we rest for a while?\" Caleb said, panting.\n\nHis friend didn't look tired at all, but he seemed happy enough to settle down beside him.\n\nCaleb wriggled out a hollow in the moss that was just the size and shape of his body. \"I'm going to close my eyes for a little,\" he announced to his companion. And that was the last he remembered until the bad man came.\n\nCHAPTER THIRTY-ONE\n\nWhen Caleb opened his eyes, a man stood over him.\n\nIt was the brown bad man. The one who had pulled him up onto his horse. The one who had stolen him and then killed Alex with his sword. He had the same sword in his hand right now—the long, curved one.\n\n\"Hello little one.\" The bad man was smiling, but the way he smiled was very scary.\n\nCaleb looked around for the bright ones. Surely they would be there. But he saw none. Even Riley was gone. Caleb was alone with this big man, and he knew, deep inside, he was in danger.\n\nAt that moment Caleb remembered what his young friend had said: \"God will save you no matter what. You can trust Him always.\"\n\n\"Save me, Aslan,\" Caleb whispered.\n\nIt was over so quickly. The man raised his sword. Caleb saw the smile leave his face. A hard, ugly look took its place, and he gritted his white teeth. \"This is for the Russian,\" he bellowed.\n\nInstantly the bright ones were there. The tallest one grabbed the sword out of the bad man's hand and flung it into the bushes. Then he grabbed the man by the back of the neck and both of them disappeared.\n\nThe other bright one picked Caleb up and wrapped him in white robes and held him close, crooning away the terror, kissing the tears from his wet cheeks. Caleb buried his face in the robes and surrendered to the comfort of the sweet caress.\n\nGod had saved him. God had sent the bright ones. \"God is good,\" he whispered into the breast of the one who held him so closely.\n\n\"Yes, my darling,\" she whispered back. \"He is good. We can trust him always.\"\n\n* * *\n\nZinovy took Sara's hand, and together they walked up the last gentle slope of the hill. At the top, they stopped and looked out over the scene before them.\n\nSara pointed. \"There.\"\n\nTo their right, a hundred yards away, the Bedouin's red bandana fluttered from the top of a huge olive tree—the sign that they had reached the oasis Elan said would be a day's journey from their honeymoon home.\n\nThe bandana wasn't necessary. Even as they spotted it, a small figure burst from the rim of palms surrounding the compound and came charging across the meadow. Zinovy smiled as he watched the boy, arms pumping, little legs covering the ground at nearly the speed of light.\n\nHe stooped to catch the flying body as it burst upon them, the force of the contact nearly knocking him off his feet. The next moment was a tangle of arms and legs and laughter as the boy re-established his claim on the property that had been lost to him for the last five days.\n\n\"Come,\" the boy gasped when the first flurry of excitement was over. \"I have to show you something. You can't ever guess what I found.\"\n\nHe tugged at their hands, hurrying them on their way toward the bandana-bedecked tree at the edge of the oasis. They arrived out of breath—Zinovy and Sara from the exertion of running and Caleb from the exertion of incessant talking.\n\nZinovy had expected Elan to meet them. He looked among the trees, but no one was in sight. \"Where's—\"\n\n\"Here,\" Caleb said. \"See what I found? I found my mommy and daddy. Isn't that so good?\"\n\nZinovy blinked. Before him stood two bright ones. The taller one held out his hand. \"It's good to meet you. We were with you off and on along the way, but of course we were never introduced. I'm Tyler. This is Olivia.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Caleb said. \"I almost forgot the other surprise. I'll be right back.\" He tugged his hand from his mother's and ran off.\n\n\"You were with us?\" Sara repeated. \"Did Caleb see you?\"\n\n\"We were among the crowd of beings he saw as bright ones. He didn't recognize us.\"\n\n\"You were caring for him, then?\" Zinovy asked. \"But why didn't you show yourself to him? It would have been so much easier.\" He thought of the times the child had cried with loneliness.\n\n\"We needed to wait.\"\n\n\"You watched him grieve? How could you . . . \" Sara stopped. \"I mean . . . \"\n\nOlivia smiled. \"It was hard for me, even for such a short time. I've felt the same before, in the old life, when I've taken him to the doctor for a shot. You know it's going to hurt, but you also know the pain is necessary.\"\n\n\"How could pain be necessary for a child?\" Zinovy asked. \"That's cruel.\"\n\nTyler looked across the green toward Caleb running toward them with his bright friend in tow. \"Look at him,\" he said. \"Do you see his happiness? The pain is over for him. He's already forgotten. And he's stronger now than he would have been if he hadn't experienced it.\"\n\nHe turned to Zinovy as Caleb came charging to a standstill in front of them. \"Caleb had his own journey to make. We weren't allowed to hinder that process. His faith has been tested. Now we can be together again.\"\n\n\"Look.\" Caleb grabbed Zinovy's hand and looked up into his face. \"I've got a new buddy. This is Riley. Riley fooled me, just like Elan fooled you.\" Here he chuckled. \"I thought Riley was a boy, but he wasn't. He was a girl when he was alive. Did you want to know something?\" He went on, not waiting for an answer. \"Riley was Charles and Elan's little girl. She got killed, but now she's a bright one. Isn't that funny?\"\n\nZinovy stood staring as Caleb ran off again with Riley.\n\nTyler's voice broke into Zinovy's amazement. \"We need your help,\" he said. \"He'll need the care of mortal parents in the City. We have assignments to do for the King. We'd appreciate it if you could continue the care you've been giving him on the journey, especially when we're away.\"\n\n\"You were so good to him—both of you,\" Olivia said. \"My heart was warmed by your compassion.\"\n\n\"Our hearts were warmed,\" Sara said. \"Caleb was an important part of our journey, as well.\" She looked up at Zinovy, then answered for both of them. \"We'll be happy to have him in our family.\"\n\n* * *\n\nOne day of rest—playing and enjoying each other's company—then it was time to move on. Tyler and Olivia said good-bye to their little one. Riley disappeared on some errand of her own. Zinovy leaned against a palm at the edge of the oasis, waiting for Sara and Caleb to finish one last swim in the pool.\n\nBreathing deeply of the sweet scented air, he studied the lower hills and valleys of flowered terrain stretching away from them toward the city, gauging the distance. About ten miles, he judged, give or take a couple. The city sat on a broad plateau, clearly visible even at that distance. Light streamed into the heavens from the brightness of the walls that gleamed white against the iridescent beauty of the mountain sky.\n\nZinovy could even hear the music. The low hum of happiness that had settled in his own soul mingled with the faint sounds of the city and the ever-present birdsong in a symphony of joy that reverberated through the spice-laden air around them.\n\nAs he watched, a lone figure emerged from a neighboring oasis a hundred yards to the east and stopped to stare, as Zinovy had, at the city. It was a mortal, Zinovy was sure. Strange. People didn't travel alone in this new world.\n\nHe stood for a minute, wondering if he should approach the newcomer. Something about the stance of the man disturbed him. Nothing he could identify. An instinct only. Before he could decide, the man turned and caught sight of him, stepped back a few feet and stopped, waiting with the same sense of hesitancy.\n\nZinovy glanced back to see that Sara and Caleb were still in the pool, then he moved through the knee-high greenery toward the lone figure, taking his time, still wrestling with an uneasy feeling, trying to classify the category of caution. The other man watched him come, making no move to shorten the distance between them.\n\nThirty feet from his target, Zinovy's caution exploded into a full-fledged surge of blood-red revulsion. A breathless moment passed while he paused, struggling for control. Then he moved forward, compelled almost against his will to see this face at close range. He came to a stop ten feet away.\n\nThe other man blanched, and swallowed convulsively. \"Zinovy.\" he said, \"You are alive.\" The contours of the man's face rose and fell, registering a range of emotions, one after another, tumbling over each other, until finally the face crumpled, and the eyes filled with tears. \"Thank God.\" He swiped at his face with the back of his hand. \"Thank God. That is one less. . .\"\n\nHe straightened and narrowed his eyes, suspicion and fear struggling for supremacy in his gaze. He waited. When Zinovy said nothing, he spoke again, as if to himself: \"How? You were in space. There is no way.\"\n\n\"Anton.\" Zinovy's mind raced. \"You would have been at the SS base when it happened. You've traveled far. Did you travel with friends?\"\n\nA slight shake of the head. \"I had no friends. No friends at all in the old life, and I have made none in my travels.\" He looked at the ground. \"Except for . . . \"\n\nThe man seemed unable to finish a sentence, but his face had taken on a softer look, as if he were seeing beyond, or remembering. He looked up again. \"There was one man, a man with scars on his wrists.\"\n\nZinovy stiffened.\n\n\"He met me along the way, and we walked.\" Here Anton broke down, put his face in his hands, and wept openly. Finally, he raised his head, avoiding Zinovy's eyes. \"I have never known such a person.\" He shook his head, and his face crumpled again, but he held the tears in check. \"If I had known, I would have lived differently.\" He looked straight at Zinovy. \"I cannot believe the things I have done.\" Then more softly, \"I cannot believe the things He has forgiven.\"\n\nHe paused, studying Zinovy's face.\n\nTime stood still. Zinovy's body tingled as images from the past rolled over him in waves of mind-numbing emotion. Every bloody anguish he had suffered—every enemy he'd confronted—was exemplified in this man. Groaning, Zinovy struggled with the memories, until he came to the last one.\n\nOne final image flooded Zinovy's heart and, for the first time in his life, the blood held no horror. He saw the man bleeding on the Cross. Saw Him reach out to hold his hand. Saw Him reach out to Anton as well.\n\nSara spoke at his elbow and Zinovy started. He glanced down at her and his world again came into focus.\n\n\"Who have you met, Zinovy?\" she asked, glancing at the newcomer with a smile.\n\nZinovy looked from one to the other. One long moment passed. Finally he said, \"Anton, this is my wife, Sara.\" He reached behind her and drew Caleb to his side. \"And this is our son, Caleb.\" He looked down at his new family. \"Sara, Caleb, this is Anton Vasiliev. My friend.\"\n\nTears formed again in Anton's eyes.\n\nZinovy drew Sara into the crook of his arm. \"Anton, we're going to the City today. If you like, you can walk with us.\"\n\nA pause while Anton regained his composure. Then he said, his voice breaking, \"I would be honored, if you would allow me.\"\n\n### * * *\n\n### Dedication\n\nTo my Father,\n\nWalter Fred Saumert,\n\nDecember 21, 1912-December 22, 1953\n\nHe walked with God for 41 years\n\non this earth\n\nand now walks with Him in heaven.\n\nTo other Zinovys\n\nwho might be reading this book.\n\nI pray you will discover the meaning of your name.\n\nAnd to the Author of Life,\n\nwho wrote this book's message\n\nin His own blood;\n\nWho nailed it to a tree\n\nand left it where I could find it;\n\nTo Him I give abundant thanks\n\nand all the credit for any\n\nTruth or Beauty\n\nthis book may contain.\n\n### ***\n\n### The Journey Continues\n\nFor more information on _Zinovy's Journey_ , including a list of characters, background on the writing of the book, deleted scenes, and a discussion of themes and symbols, please visit the website at http://www.zinovysjourney.com\n\nThe author's notes and acknowledgements are also on the website under\n\n\"About the Novel\" -- \"History of the Writing.\"\n\nYour comments and questions are welcome.\n\nFeel free to e-mail the author at: mailto:ginny.jaques@zinovysjourney.com\n\nThank you for choosing to read this book.\n\n413\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### Ignite\n\n### Midnight Fire Book One\n\n### By\n\n### Kaitlyn Davis\n\neBook Edition\n\nCopyright 2011 Kaitlyn Davis M.\n\nCover Art: Covers by Juan\n\nInterior Art:\n\nChapter symbol manipulated by Kaitlyn Davis with photoshop brush by DusterAmaranth.\n\nThe right of Kaitlyn Davis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988\n\nThis eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be direct infringement of the author's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.\n\nThis is a work of fiction and any resemblances between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.\n\nAll Titles by Kaitlyn Davis\n\nMidnight Fire\n\nIgnite\n\nSimmer\n\nBlaze\n\nScorch\n\nBurn\n\nMidnight Ice\n\nFrost\n\nFreeze\n\nFracture\n\nShatter\n\nOnce Upon a Curse\n\nGathering Frost\n\nWithering Rose\n\nChasing Midnight\n\nA Dance of Dragons\n\nThe Shadow Soul\n\nThe Spirit Heir\n\nThe Phoenix Born\n\nLeena's Story – The Novellas\n\nTo my family for their unconditional love,\n\nmy friends for their overwhelming support,\n\nand my fans for their incredible enthusiasm.\n\nThank you from the bottom of my heart.\n\nTable of Contents\n\nAll Works by Kaitlyn Davis\n\nDedication\n\nPrologue\n\nChapter One\n\nChapter Two\n\nChapter Three\n\nChapter Four\n\nChapter Five\n\nChapter Six\n\nChapter Seven\n\nChapter Eight\n\nChapter Nine\n\nChapter Ten\n\nChapter Eleven\n\nChapter Twelve\n\nChapter Thirteen\n\nChapter Fourteen\n\nChapter Fifteen\n\nEpilogue\n\nBonus Scenes from Luke and Tristan's POVs\n\nSimmer Preview\n\nAbout The Author\n\nPrologue\n\nKira watched as he languidly stood, flexing his muscles as though he had just awakened from a long dream. He stretched his arms over his head and cracked the bones in his neck before finally settling his gaze on her. She hardly recognized him, the boy she had fallen in love with. Where minutes before there had been light and emotion in his eyes, now there was only a black hole, a seemingly endless abyss. Kira had never seen him look at her that way, like less than food, like vermin, even since the first time they met.\n\n\"Aren't you going to run?\" he asked with sinister humor coloring his words. The smirk on his face may as well have been a knife cutting through her heart. The darkness had always called him, but Kira thought that being with her would be enough to keep him from crossing over. She saw now that he had surrendered to his nature, and for the first time, she felt real fear when he looked at her.\n\nKira stepped backward on shaky feet, trying to digest the question. She didn't have an answer. How could she turn her back on him and run away? The man she loved was trying to kill her. There were no options. Could she forget it all—all the nights they had shared kissing and swapping secrets—and fight to kill? Or would she run and admit that there was no hope he would return to her?\n\nKira said his name and reached out her hand, searching one last time for the man she had lost.\n\n\"Yes, honey?\" The words hit her like a slap in the face as they rolled off his tongue, drenched in sarcasm.\n\nKira looked up at the sun, still hidden behind the shadow of the moon, and sprinted into the tree line behind her. She couldn't give up on him now. But when the eclipse was over, maybe she would finally find the strength to fight.\n\nChapter One\n\nAs Kira waited in line for a parking spot, she studied the sprawling two-story building that took up her entire line of vision. A stone engraving read \"Charleston County High School\" and Kira sighed at the daunting brick walls before her. Already she could tell it had a layout much different from the private school she had attended in New York, with numerous buildings sandwiched between corporate skyscrapers and spread out over a few city blocks. The students wandered here at a pace much different from the bustle she had grown used to during the past five years spent at the boarding school that she had begged her parents to attend. But last year her father had been laid off, and Kira knew she would be back home for her senior year.\n\nHer family had lived in Charleston for about four years, but Kira had never met anyone during her summers home. This would be new for her—a huge school that she would definitely get lost in and tons of people who had probably never even heard of The Met.\n\nA car honked behind her, and Kira continued moving at a slow pace down the parking lot as students took turns swinging trucks into super-sized, yellow-lined spaces. As she took her turn pulling the eco-friendly car her parents loved into a spot, she knew she wouldn't quite fit in here. Kira looked to her left at the person sitting in the passenger seat of a pickup truck, a full two feet above her, and felt as tiny and invisible as she probably seemed to him.\n\n_But enough_ , she thought, straightening her shoulders.\n\nKira hated self-pity more than anything, so she grabbed her shoulder bag and made for the front door with the rest of the crowd. She did give Charleston one thing, the smell of marsh and pine was a heck of a lot better than that of car exhaust and garbage.\n\n\"Name?\" the secretary asked as Kira entered the main office for her schedule.\n\n\"Kira Dawson.\"\n\n\"Year?\"\n\n\"Senior.\" Kira ran her hands down the sides of her royal blue sundress, smoothing out the wrinkles to make a good impression on her new classmates.\n\n\"Here you go, honey.\"\n\nShe took the folder and pulled out a schedule. Advanced Calculus, room 253C. Kira walked out to the hallway and looked around for a sign, anything to point her in the right direction, but saw only bare brick walls. After a few minutes, someone finally took pity on her.\n\n\"Are you new?\" A handsome blond guy with a lanky build stood behind her looking over her shoulder at the paper. \"Oh, 253C, not an easy walk from here. Come on, I'm next door to you.\" She followed, having no real other choice. \"So you are new, right, or have my great looks made you speechless?\"\n\n_Damn_ , Kira thought, hating to be called out. Time to prove she wasn't a wallflower. \"Yeah I'm new, and what good looks? You're so tall I can't even see your face.\"\n\n\"Touché.\" He studied her for a moment, and Kira finally got a good look at his face, which she had to admit wasn't too shabby. He had wispy hair the color of summer corn, a slightly crooked nose spotted with light-brown freckles, and a wide, friendly smile full of perfectly white teeth. There was something about his eyes, green with flecks of yellow, which she found familiar and almost comforting.\n\n\"I'm Luke Bowrey.\" He extended his hand, naturally tanned from a summer in the South, and she shook it.\n\n\"Kira Dawson. Nice to meet you, and thanks for the help.\"\n\n\"Not a problem. When I see a damsel in distress I just can't help but act the knight in shining armor.\"\n\nShe laughed despite herself. Kira knew he was cocky, but she also instantly knew they could be friends.\n\n\"Here's your stop. Hope to see you later,\" he said and rushed into the classroom next door right as the bell rang.\n\nShe hurried to do the same and quickly sat in the first seat she could find. The math was easier than she was used to, as were chemistry, biology, and Spanish. Her morning passed smoothly as she followed people from classroom to classroom and eventually into the cafeteria big enough to hold all fifteen hundred students at the school.\n\nKira had packed her lunch, so she made her way down the rows of tables, searching for an open seat in a friendly crowd, almost giving up until a huge hand landed on her shoulder.\n\n\"Need saving again?\"\n\nShe smiled to herself—it was Luke coming to the rescue once more. \"I wouldn't mind it.\"\n\nHe nodded to the left and she followed him to one of the smaller tables where two boys and another girl sat. \"Everyone, this is Kira. Kira, this is everyone.\"\n\nThe girl rolled her eyes, pointing an exasperated look at Luke.\n\n\"Luke, truly amazing introduction,\" the slightly goofy looking boy with shaggy brown hair and black-rimmed glasses said, and extended his hand. \"Hey Kira, I'm Miles, this is Emma and that's Dave.\" He pointed to the girl—who had dyed blonde hair, more makeup on than Kira was capable of applying, and was wearing Lily Pulitzer—and the boy—who had one tanned arm around her chair back and was sporting a baseball cap for the Dallas Cowboys. \"We all moved here last winter, but thanks to you we're no longer the new kids. Not much change happens here. I think five students in one year must be a school record.\"\n\n\"Wow, so everyone is pretty set in their ways then?\" Kira adjusted the curly red ringlet falling over her eyes, slightly nervous in front of this new crowd. \"Good thing I found you guys, or good thing I looked lost enough that Luke felt some pity for me.\"\n\n\"We would have found you eventually,\" Emma added. \"We're some of the only kids not here since birth and probably the only ones not here since middle school, so it was almost inevitable that we'd adopt the new kid and not upset the balance.\"\n\n\"The balance?\" Kira asked, a little confused. Her school in New York had been a constantly changing atmosphere with girls dressed in anything from Gucci to Forever 21 to leggings with holes in them from a flea market.\n\n\"It's like this...\" Luke put an arm around Kira's shoulder and steered her gaze to the left side of the large, open room. \"First, the cafeteria is divided into four with freshman in the front near the grotesque processed food smell, and older kids filling in the back until you get to the seniors around us who have the best window view of the lake and the biggest tables. Then, each year is divided into your standard groups. The jocks have a table.\" He pointed to the corner that was a sea of blue jerseys full of boys and girls in uniforms. \"Next are the football players and the cheerleaders who fawn on them, the next table over is the just plain popular because of good looks and in rare cases a stellar attitude. In the middle are the average uncategorized and the most down to earth people you'll meet. And finally, rounding out the senior class, we have the drama nerds mixed with the emos, because who really can tell the difference there.\"\n\nShe stared at the groups, sort of seeing the distinction in clothes and stature, black leotard looking garments versus regular jeans and a T-shirt or pompoms, but not totally understanding it. She wasn't used to groups, except for rich and scholarship, which had been the only divide at her private school. But even then, it was sometimes hard to tell just from looks, because the wealthiest students would come to school wearing oversized sweaters with moth holes, and the poorest students might spend a month's income on one dress.\n\n\"Luke, you forgot the misfits,\" Miles added and turned his head out the window.\n\n\"Meaning us?\" Kira asked, certainly feeling like this motley little group didn't fit into any of the categories Luke had mentioned.\n\n\"Nah, we're still the newbies, those are the misfits. Don't know how I forgot.\" Luke turned Kira toward the tables outside where three boys and a girl were lounging—all pale despite their position in the sun. \"They sort of keep to themselves.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Don't know. I don't really know anything about them actually.\"\n\nLuke sounded as though he was holding something back, but Kira had only known him for three hours and didn't want to accuse him of lying, especially after all he had done. She looked outside for a moment longer, and even through the glass, she could tell there was something different about them. It was more than the distinction between a jock and a drama nerd—it was something almost tangible. But whatever it was, she wasn't going to harp on it now. She had friends to make.\n\n\"So, where are you guys all from?\" Kira asked while sliding into one of the open chairs circling the table.\n\nDave just pointed to his hat. Kira guessed he was the silent type.\n\n\"He means Dallas,\" Emma supplied. \"I am too. We never knew each other before moving here, isn't that funny. I mean, he went to my rival school, so not that surprising, but still, it's pretty crazy.\"\n\n\"Fate?\" Kira said, knowing it was the confirmation Emma searched for and guessing Dave would keep silent.\n\n\"Yup, that's what I like to believe.\" They smiled at each other.\n\nThe silence from Dave was something she would get used to, Kira decided, hoping she would eventually become friends with both of them. Especially Emma. She liked her perfectly styled hair, manicured nails, and carefully applied makeup. That sort of knowledge would definitely come in handy in the future, maybe before her next date.\n\n\"Well, I'm a northerner all the way,\" Miles interjected. \"Or I was until my parents moved down here. I lived in Boston and will hopefully be back in Cambridge in no time.\"\n\nKira smiled because Miles definitely looked like the Harvard type, with the pile of books next to his lunch. But she felt a little edge to him too.\n\n\"And now, my turn.\" Luke adopted his theatrical voice again. \"I, dear lady, am from the far reaches of, drum roll please...\" He supplied his own when the only response was rolled eyes. \"Florida, the sunshine state with glorious beaches, Walt Disney World, and a small town in the middle of nowhere called Sonnyville where I was born and raised.\"\n\n\"Wait, you're from a small town?\" Kira sputtered, almost spitting out her drink.\n\n\"I get that a lot, but why, I don't understand.\"\n\n\"I don't mean any offense, it's just that your personality is so...\" Kira moved her hands in a wide circle searching for the appropriate word.\n\n\"Charming?\" Luke supplied.\n\n\"I think she means big,\" Miles chipped in, and Luke sat down with a nod of defeat. But Kira just assumed it was more playing around, so she quickly agreed with Miles and smiled.\n\n\"You know, I just love your hair.\" Emma grabbed at Kira's curly mess. \"Do you dye it?\"\n\n\"Nope, unfortunately it's just what I was born with.\" Kira self-consciously put a hand to her head. She had always felt weird about her hair. It was a curly mess of bright red and almost white blonde strands that mixed to create a sort of strawberry blonde with a punch.\n\n\"Well, I'm jealous. I wish I had such natural volume, and guys go crazy for a red head.\"\n\n\"Enough guys already go crazy for you,\" Dave finally spoke up, pulling Emma tighter into the crook of his arm.\n\n_Ah, the jealous type_ , Kira thought.\n\nLuke took a strand of her hair and wrapped the natural curl around his pointer finger. He stared at it intently, almost as if he were in a trance, and Kira stared at him, stuck.\n\n\"Luke, creepy much?\" Emma chimed in. Luke dropped the curl immediately, and he and Kira both turned toward Emma. \"Whoa, Luke, Kira has your psycho eyes.\"\n\n\"Really? Look at me,\" Miles asked with a curious expression. \"Whoa,\" was all he said when they looked over.\n\n\"Let me see.\" Luke gently held Kira's chin so she looked into his eyes.\n\nThe moment their gazes touched, she realized why his eyes were so comforting before—she had never seen anyone with irises quite like hers. They were barely green on the outer rim, but that hue was quickly overtaken by a yellow tint with red and orange specks that almost looked like fire. Most people were weirded out by it, but she liked that she wouldn't be alone in that, at least for the next year.\n\n\"I didn't think they'd look the same,\" Luke murmured softly. Kira paused at the words Luke clearly had not meant to say out loud.\n\n\"Well, obviously you wouldn't think a complete stranger has the same eyes as you,\" Emma said, and Kira silently thanked her for commenting. She was still trying to figure out what he was talking about. \"What's up with you today, Luke? You're acting all mysterious.\"\n\nThere was a momentary pause. Luke opened his mouth, seemingly unsure of how to answer, but then the lunch bell rang. They all stood up, conversation forgotten. Kira had English with Luke, so he grabbed her arm and started pulling her through the all too confusing hallways she feared she would never figure out. After a few minutes, they arrived at the far side of the building and slid into their seats. More students began trickling in as the bell rang again, but no teacher showed up.\n\n\"Mr. Bell is notorious for being late to class,\" Luke leaned over and whispered to Kira.\n\n\"Oh, really? How is he still—\"\n\n\"Lukey,\" the girl that Luke had labeled as a misfit plopped down on top of his desk. She had waist-length, stick-straight black hair, and her eyes were impossibly blue, almost like ice. \"Hitting on the new girl already? Tsk tsk, you should let her get to know everyone before she's forced to settle on you.\"\n\n\"Diana,\" Luke said tersely. \"I thought you graduated.\"\n\nShe laughed, and her eyes flashed almost white as she stared at Luke. \"No, no. I'm quite content to stay in high school forever. And I had to wait for my boys.\"\n\nAt their mention, the three boys who had been with Diana outside now walked into the classroom. Instantly Kira felt on edge, as though there was something else going on here that she was not privy to but was somehow part of. The look on Luke's face was strained. Something was happening between him and the others that no one else in the classroom but Kira could feel. She heard laughter and saw students hugging friends they hadn't seen in a while, but in the back of the classroom, there remained only the tension of a rubber band about to snap.\n\n\"Jerome, Tristan, John,\" Luke said each name with a stiff nod. They circled around him.\n\nKira lost interest in the strained conversation and instead studied the newcomers. Jerome had black skin that miraculously seemed pale and the same steel blue eyes. He was built like a football player, like a running back who was speedy yet surprisingly strong. John had sandy blond hair, shaved close to his head, with a thin and streamlined build.\n\nFinally, she looked at the guy Luke had called Tristan. He seemed different to her somehow, with jet-black hair that hung over his eyes a little and barely visible dimples that played on his cheeks. His eyes were also an icy blue, but they seemed deeper to her, like steep ravines she could fall into. He stayed out of the conversation, she noticed, as if lost in his own thoughts—ones that seemed more troublesome than the cutting remarks being doled out by his friends. He had a rebel without a cause look that made him perilous for a girl's heart.\n\nSuddenly, he turned to Kira. His eyes brightened a shade when they landed on hers, staring. And Kira, who was never one to back down, returned his look with interest.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he asked in a barely audible voice filled with surprise, one just loud enough to attract the attention of his friends and Luke. Kira melted at the sound. He was dangerous she knew, but something about him made her feel safe and afraid at the same time.\n\n\"Kira,\" was all she could respond with. They both looked at each other, trying to unlock the other's secrets.\n\nHis friends came to circle her now, and she instantly felt cornered. Fear sparked in her heart, a quick flash of lightning. She didn't quite understand the nerves, but she also couldn't shake them.\n\n\"Well, what have we here?\" Diana leaned in to really look at her, and Kira thought she read shock on the girl's face despite the confidence in her voice. Tristan laid a hand on Diana's arm, almost like a warning.\n\n\"Diana, back off,\" Luke said and tried to come to Kira's rescue, but it was Mr. Bell who saved her by running into the classroom very late and very out of breath.\n\n\"All right, simmer down people, I just lost track of time in the teacher's lounge. Welcome to Advanced English, I expect everyone's full attention for the entire first half of the year, and then after winter break, those of you who are college bound can do some slacking.\"\n\nA general cheer went up around the room. Even Kira, who didn't really know how to slack off, let out a smile. She had already decided to take a gap year to work and hopefully travel, but a little slacking wouldn't be too awful.\n\n\"We're starting the year off with Shakespeare,\" Mr. Bell continued and the cheer changed to a groan. \"Come on now, I'll show you that Shakespeare can be cool, starting with acting lessons. For the next few weeks, we are going to perform scenes from the plays we read, starting with the age-old classic _Romeo and Juliet_. Next week we're going to practice acting out emotions, so everyone please put those game faces on.\"\n\nThe rest of class passed rather quickly as Kira decided she liked Mr. Bell more and more. He was a young teacher who treated them like friends rather than students. Unlike her teachers in New York, she could tell Mr. Bell truly loved teaching, and it wasn't just a job.\n\n\"Hey Luke,\" she asked when class ended and the students all dispersed. \"What was that at the beginning of class? I thought you said you barely knew anything about those guys.\"\n\n\"I don't, Kira. I don't know anything but a mutual disgust. Can we just leave it at that?\"\n\nShe nodded okay but it wasn't sincere. Something had to have caused that much hatred. At first, Kira thought maybe Diana and Luke used to date, but it seemed less like jealousy and more like something else, something intense that she couldn't quite put her finger on.\n\nThe rest of the day passed uneventfully, and Kira didn't see Luke again. After finishing her last class, she retreated to her car, totally spent.\n\nOn her way home, Kira stopped at the supermarket to pick up ingredients for her latest recipe, the one she had thought up during calculus instead of going over differential equations. All she had ever wanted to do was be a chef. And while other students her age were applying to college, she was practicing her knife and cooking skills whenever she got the opportunity, resulting in lots of good food for her family and lots of experience for future entrance examinations to culinary schools. During her gap year, Kira would hopefully be perfecting her skills in a real restaurant kitchen, but for now, she just practiced on her own. Tonight Kira was feeling homey, so she bought fresh tomatoes, spices, and flour to make some good old-fashioned spaghetti.\n\nWhen she arrived home, the house was empty. Her father, she remembered, had job interviews all day with banks in Charleston's city center. She assumed her mother was with her baby sister at the pool, since she was still too young for kindergarten.\n\nAs Kira dug her fingers into the tomatoes she had just sliced, she thought about her family. When Kira was born, her parents had been twenty-three, which seemed just old enough to have a child. And when her sister was born, they had been thirty-six, which seemed just young enough. Even now, Kira never really grasped who the mistake was—her or her sister. She remembered about five years ago when she got the news. She had just begun boarding school and was thirteen, a rather inopportune age to realize your parents were still sexually active enough to have a child. Those scars were erased as soon as Kira held her little sister in her arms and looked into her bright green eyes, ones that lacked the yellow center but were filled with warmth. Even now, she couldn't wait for her mother to come home so she could play with Chloe, who always liked helping her in the kitchen (as much as a four-year-old could).\n\nWith the sauce finished, Kira turned to the pasta, stirring the batter while she relived her first day. One of the amazing things about cooking was the therapy it provided. She could think about Luke, who at first glance she had figured to be the overly cocky yet oddly lovable boy. But there was something else there too. When he looked at her, it was almost like he saw something she didn't understand and maybe didn't want to know. In a way, she was reminded of Cy, her ex-boyfriend in New York. They had only dated for a few months—it wasn't love or anything, just fun for both of them. He had the same look as Luke, with bright blond hair that looked resolutely sun bleached. He had been overprotective of her, something that got old quickly. When she turned sixteen, he appeared out of nowhere and took over her life. While the constant calling to check in was cute at first, Kira had grown more and more frustrated. Moving home was the perfect excuse to dump him. Luke seemed more laid back, but there were traces of protection in his wannabe-knight manner. Could she see herself dating him?\n\nKira considered it, pondered the idea of a crush, but her mind slowly wandered from his familiar eyes to the icy blue ones belonging to Tristan.\n\nHer hands stopped mixing at the thought of him. He was too much of a distraction, even for cooking. His brooding eyes held pain and love, his dimples added a cute boyish factor, and his hair hung just low enough to make her want to run a hand through it. She could tell just by looking at him that he had put up barriers and was full of secrets—ones that Kira would love to unmask. He was the kind of boy you wanted to comfort and to kiss, the kind you knew would break your heart yet hoped against all odds wouldn't. The bad boy with a soft heart, the sort of trap a girl knowingly jumped into.\n\n_Stop it_ , Kira told herself and began kneading the dough to get out her frustration. They had barely said two words to each other, not nearly enough to begin crushing; especially when all she knew about him was that the one person she hoped to call a friend hated him.\n\n\"Kira, Kira!\"\n\nShe was shocked out of her thoughts by the four-year-old now attached to her leg. Kira looked at the dough. She had kneaded it far more than necessary and more than enough to let her sister play with the now soft putty.\n\n\"Want to help me make dinner?\" She asked, lifting Chloe onto the marble countertop next to the sink.\n\nHer mother came in seconds later and kissed her on the cheek. \"How was your first day?\"\n\n\"Oh, fine.\"\n\nHer mother sank a little—clearly, she wanted more details. \"Any friends yet? Any guys? Now that you're home I'd hope to get some more information out of you.\"\n\n\"Well, there was this one guy,\" Kira began telling her mom about Luke and how he had saved her. She could tell her mother was enjoying the teenage gossip she had missed out on while Kira had been up north, but she couldn't bring herself to speak about Tristan. For now, he would be her secret.\n\n_Damn you_ , she thought. _If you're causing me this much trouble now I can only imagine what will happen if we ever have an entire conversation._\n\nChapter Two\n\nWhen Kira arrived at school the next day, Luke was waiting for her outside the entrance. She was happy for the escort but wanted to try walking herself to class to test her memory of the layout. Luke let her lead, which resulted in two miss-turns and a five-minute tardy to class, but she had still gotten them there on her own, which was something.\n\nIn no time, Kira's morning classes whizzed by, and she was sitting with her newfound friends in the cafeteria, feeling like she had an actual place in the school.\n\n\"Dude, Wonder Woman is definitely hotter than Catwoman,\" Luke said to Miles. The two had been in a heated debate since their teacher had mentioned comic books in chemistry class.\n\n\"No way man, Catwoman is totally badass and she wears a leather costume. Leather!\"\n\n\"Okay, Wonder Woman wears a bathing suit, has super human stamina, and can fly,\" Luke argued, mouth hanging open in disbelief that they were even still talking about the subject.\n\n\"Catwoman has a whip.\"\n\n\"Wonder Woman has an invisible flying plane.\"\n\n\"Dude, leather plus whip plus hint of evil wins every time.\"\n\nDave decided to chime in with, \"Luke, I think Miles has you there.\"\n\n\"Ladies? Come on, help me out.\" Luke peered over with puppy-dog eyes. A slight pout graced his lower lip.\n\n\"Speaking as a completely heterosexual female, I have to say that Catwoman is definitely hotter,\" Kira spoke up, hoping to end the completely absurd debate. \"Now, here's a real question—Batman or Superman? I have to go with Superman every time.\"\n\nAt that, Miles spit out his drink. \"You have got to be kidding me.\"\n\nKira laughed and let the new debate continue now with male subjects who were of much more interest to her. But when Miles and Luke began spitting words at each other, most likely forgetting to breathe, she tuned them out.\n\nLetting her gaze wander over all of the different groups around the cafeteria, Kira eventually allowed her eyes to slip out the window to the one person she was secretly searching for. But when her view landed on the misfits' table in search of Tristan, all four of them were looking at her. Jerome, John, and Diana held their gazes for a moment before looking away, but Tristan continued staring.\n\nKira's breath caught. She didn't understand or want their interest. Well, she secretly wanted Tristan's but not the others. She smiled at him, trying to change his sort of gloomy stare for a flirtier one. But he just looked away, confusing her more.\n\nLuke nudged her, pulling her gaze from the window. \"Come on, it's time to go to class.\"\n\nThey walked together, winding through the sunlit hallways, and sat down quietly until Mr. Bell walked in, flustered. Hastily, he started to lecture.\n\nDuring class, Kira looked over her shoulder to catch all of the misfits staring at her once more. She held Tristan's eyes again, only breaking contact when Luke tapped her shoulder to pass her a note. He sufficiently distracted her with funny notes for the rest of class, but the hairs on the back of her neck remained standing for the entire period.\n\n\"Luke, why do they keep staring?\" Kira asked as they followed everyone out of the room.\n\n\"Don't worry about it. It's just because you're new. I'm sure it will wear off soon.\"\n\nBut despite his reassurance, it didn't.\n\nEvery day for the rest of the week, Kira was under scrutiny. The misfits would only look away when she finally turned to meet their gazes. Kira was confused, but more than anything, annoyed.\n\n\"I'm going to confront them,\" she told Luke after school let out on Friday afternoon. Her first week was complete, but she felt like things were only just beginning.\n\n\"Kira, leave it alone.\" He shook his head, exasperated with the conversation they had had every day this week. \"The more it bothers you, the more they do it. They're jerks. If you ignore them, I'm sure they'll stop.\"\n\n\"I can tell from your voice that you don't believe what you just said. Do you know what's going on?\" Kira made Luke stop walking before they reached her car, which was only a few steps away. She wanted to delve deeper into what Luke was obviously hiding from her.\n\n\"Nothing, it's just who they are.\" He turned away, unable to meet her eyes, and continued his stroll.\n\n\"Well, we'll see next Monday. If I catch them staring again, I'm going to talk to them. I'm not really one to stand idle when I'm annoyed.\"\n\n\"I'm starting to realize that,\" Luke said in a resigned voice and leaned against the trunk of her small car. \"Do what you want to. I doubt I could stop you anyway.\"\n\nKira laughed. \"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Luke. We are definitely starting to understand each other.\"\n\nHe put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against the car, and smiled. The playful mood finally returned to their conversation, the way it always did. \"Hey,\" he said, as though suddenly remembering something he forgot to tell her. \"You have to come to the beach with us tomorrow. Apparently, it's a school tradition. The entire senior class goes to Folly Beach and has a sort of picnic-type event.\"\n\n\"Sounds great.\"\n\nKira jumped from his grasp and dug through her purse for her car keys. When she found them, they said their goodbyes, and Kira stepped into her car, more than ready for a mellow Friday night with the family.\n\nThe next morning, Kira was jarred awake by a booming alarm, dragging her out of that perfect place between being asleep and being awake, when everything seemed so serene. She flopped her hand on the clock to shut it off, stretched her muscles, and then rolled over to see sunbeams filtering through the yellow sheers on her window.\n\n_Beautiful_ , she thought, still trying to hold on to that limbo.\n\nAfter a few minutes, she was finally awake enough to stand and start preparing for the beach. Flinging the curtains aside, Kira let the sun warm through her before heading toward the closet to find the perfect bikini and cover-up combo. The white bedazzled two-piece might be too flashy, and her new brown one didn't really go with her hair, so Kira decided on her new kelly green bikini that would definitely flatter her hair and maybe even her eyes. She threw on her favorite beach cover-up, a pink and green polka-dotted strapless dress she picked up last summer, and flip-flops to prevent from seeming too fancy. After a look in the mirror, Kira decided it was New York chic meets low-key beachy.\n\nShe had told Luke she would bring a picnic basket, eager to let some new people taste her food. After making a killer pasta salad and cold cut sandwiches with her special sauce—a hint of mayo, a hint of mustard, and a little something secret—she was ready to go. Kira walked outside, waiting for Luke to pick her up, and was shocked to see a huge pickup careen around the corner with Dave and Miles lounging next to surfboards in the bed of the truck. Kira opened the paint-flaked passenger side door to a giggle-fest between Luke and Emma, and hopped in beside them.\n\n\"What is going on in here?\" she asked. \"Something I should be telling Dave about?\"\n\n\"Nothing, nothing.\" Emma finally calmed down enough to breathe, but her face was red from laughing so hard. \"One of those things that's only funny if you saw it.\"\n\n\"What? Come on, I have to know.\"\n\n\"For a minute, in the rearview mirror...\" Luke coughed to keep a new round of laughter at bay. \"It looked like Miles and Dave were making out.\" He and Emma broke down again.\n\n\"Do I need to drive?\" Kira said in a jokingly condescending voice.\n\n\"No, no, I got this.\" Luke composed himself and revved the engine.\n\nThe drive to Folly Beach didn't take long, especially with Kira, Luke, and Emma singing country at the top of their lungs while Miles and Dave stuck their heads through the back window to occasionally join in as back-up singers.\n\nWhen they arrived, Kira was amazed at the quintessential surf town she had never known existed just a short drive outside of Charleston. Beach shacks and inexpensive hotels lined the shore, while surf shops and local restaurants called in most of the crowd.\n\nThey parked and practically ran down the rickety wooden boardwalk that led them through the dunes and onto the sand. The long flat beach was already lined with students from their high school. Some held not so discreet brown paper bags with bottle rims poking out, while others had coolers masking mixed drinks.\n\nDave, Miles, and Luke dragged their surfboards along the beach behind Emma who was scouting a location. Kira followed, soaking in the view. Fluffed clouds softened the bright blue sky, which faded into the deeper blue waters of the ocean before her. She let the sun warm her skin, itching to lie down on a towel and not move for hours. A little in the distance, jetting past breaking waves into the deep ocean, she saw the famous Folly Beach Pier.\n\n\"Kira, come on.\" Emma waved her over to the small square of sand the group had claimed. She quickly moved through the maze of towels to meet her friends.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Kira said while sitting down on the towel they had laid out for her. \"Who wants food?\"\n\n\"Me!\" Her friends chorused in unison.\n\nKira opened up the picnic basket she had packed and handed out the sandwiches. After leaning her elbows back on the squishy sand to look at the view, she sighed. \"Man, this is the life.\"\n\n\"I'll second that. This sandwich is incredible. What did you put in this? Drugs? I can't stop eating,\" Luke marveled and Miles seconded with a grunt, since his mouth was completely full.\n\n\"I was talking about the view and the weather, not the food, stupid. The sun feels so great, especially after the first week of school. The tension is literally melting from my body.\" Kira dropped back down to her towel to soak it all in. The sun had always been her favorite thing. Feeling the heat and warmth it radiated always gave her a sense of inner-peace. She had spent many afternoons in Central Park while living up north, but nothing could compare to the feel of the sand scratching your toes, the sun prickling your skin, and the surf rolling in your ears.\n\nAnd then Kira felt it, that tingle at the base of her neck that told her something was wrong. She opened her eyes to look around and saw that Tristan, Jerome, John and Diana were walking onto the beach. They looked away when she caught them staring, and Kira finally broke. In school, it was one thing, but ruining her perfect moment of relaxation went way too far.\n\nShe watched while they walked along the shore and took careful glances in her direction. When they sat down, yards to her left, Kira turned away. Experimenting, she looked back and met each of their eyes, catching them in the staring act yet again.\n\n\"This is ridiculous.\" Kira stood, dusting the sand off of her legs, and marched over toward the misfits before her friends even had time to realize she'd left. Four eyes watched her carefully as she swiftly dodged people and came to a stop at the edge of the bright blue towel Tristan lounged on.\n\n\"Okay, what is your problem with me?\" She flung her arms wide, searching for some answer that made sense.\n\n\"You exist,\" Diana spoke coldly.\n\nKira was shocked and she flinched. It wasn't the response she had expected. \"And what about my existence is so terrible that I can't turn around without you guys all staring at me?\"\n\n\"Not terrible, intriguing,\" Tristan spoke up before Diana could, tilting his head as he pondered her.\n\nKira couldn't imagine what about her had caught their interest so much, and she was beginning to not even like Tristan's watchful eye. But then again, she couldn't help noticing the outline of a six-pack etched in his pale skin and how the sun made his eyes look even bluer. It wasn't so bad...\n\n\"You're completely ignorant of everything,\" Jerome said in a deep, rumbling voice. \"It's...alluring.\"\n\nKira didn't like the way he looked at her—with a glimmer of malice in his eye. And even staring at Tristan shirtless wasn't enough to keep her there much longer. \"Look, I lived in Manhattan for five years. I'm hardly ignorant compared to almost everyone else who goes to our school, and I'm tired of this. Get over whatever it is you think you know about me, and leave me alone.\"\n\nKira walked away, hoping she had gained an upper hand and that they would stop. When she turned her head back around, they were gazing at the ocean, hoisting up surfboards, and ignoring her. She smiled, glad she had faced them, but also confused. What had Jerome been talking about? Why would he think she was ignorant when he had never even spoken to her before?\n\n\"Kira!\" She stopped her unhappy thoughts and turned to Luke, who looked concerned. \"You okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'd just had enough, like I told you before.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Come on, I'm making you surf with me and Dave. Go grab Miles's board and meet us out there.\"\n\nShe quickly took off her cover-up and lifted the heavy board from the sand. \"Thanks, Miles,\" she yelled after she turned and started walking toward the water. When she stepped into the waves, she instantly knew this would be a much more enjoyable swim than those she went on in the Hamptons. Instead of walking into freezing cold and almost paralyzing waters, this ocean was bathwater warm. Kira smiled at the change, already starting to appreciate the permanent move down south, and headed out toward her new friends, who she felt like she had known for a lifetime.\n\nAfter jumping on the board and awkwardly paddling past the waves, Kira made it to Dave and Luke, who sat like pros with their feet dangling in the water and the nose of their short boards angled up into the air. Kira noted her own very long board, which hadn't left the surface of the undulating water even though she sat on its back tip.\n\n\"Why is my surfboard so huge? I could barely lift the thing.\"\n\n\"It's a beginner board,\" Dave spoke up now that the conversation was of real interest to him. \"We only started teaching Miles about a month ago, and he's taking a little while to get the hang of it.\"\n\n\"Don't worry. I can tell you're a natural,\" Luke chimed in and playfully nudged the edge of her board with his foot, almost sending Kira into the ocean. \"Well, maybe not a natural, but it's really not that difficult.\"\n\nKira nodded and listened to their detailed instructions carefully. She had never heard Dave speak so much. That alone was exciting as he told her exactly what she had to do. When the wave was approaching, paddle as quickly as she could, then make one last push right when it felt like the wave had complete control. Quickly put her palms on opposite sides of the board and push her chest up. Then, she had to move her right foot perpendicular to her left knee while still keeping most of her leg on the board for balance. Finally, the hardest part, she had to jump up by swinging her left leg through her arms in front of her other leg and then lift her upper body up while keeping her legs bent.\n\n_Easy, right?_ Kira tried to assure herself, but as she waited for a wave, she couldn't stop the anxiety from building in her chest. How fast did these boards really go? Kira was no adrenaline junkie by any means, so to calm herself she tried to envision a _Blue Crush_ scenario, in which she becomes a super hot surfer chick who woos a professional quarterback.\n\nShe was jolted from the daydream when Luke and Dave shouted at her. \"Here comes a wave. Start paddling, Kira!\"\n\nWith as much power as she could muster, Kira pushed her arms through the water, digging under the surface. One of the boys gave her a push, and then the wave was in control. She pressed up on her palms, moved her leg forward as quickly as she could, and promptly lost her balance. The board flipped, sending Kira crashing into the ocean.\n\nShe rolled around underwater, riding the wave in like the boys told her, and felt the strong tug of her ankle strap as her board and she went in opposite directions. Finally, the speed slowed and she was able to break through to the surface of the water to swim over to her board. Kira flopped her arms over the board, rested her head for a few moments, and then looked up to search for Dave and Luke. She waved to them, gave a thumbs up, and then jumped back on her board to paddle back out.\n\n\"I'm going to do this,\" she told them resolutely as she spun her board around, back toward the shore. Turning for a second, she watched Tristan who had just stood up on a wave. He looked like such a natural, taking steps along his board to control speed and doing a few tricks despite the smaller nature of the waves. She was totally captivated by it.\n\n\"Kira, here comes a set.\" Dave brought her back around and she started paddling again.\n\nThis time, Kira did it by herself without a push from Luke, and got caught in the movement of the wave. After a few seconds, she toppled over, but this time it was when she tried to fling her foot to the front to stand. She paddled out after escaping the churning waters, already feeling the exhaustion in her arms, but not ready to give up yet.\n\nAfter about ten more tries ending in belly flops, Kira had about reached that point where she was ready to give in.\n\n\"I cannot do this,\" she told the boys after lying back on the board and resting her body. \"It is physically impossible for me to stand up on this board.\" She crossed her arms, trying to maintain her balance while also looking stubborn. It was a difficult task.\n\n\"Come on.\" Luke prodded her with his finger. \"Wakey wakey.\"\n\n\"No,\" she put on a five-year-old voice.\n\n\"One more try, I have a really good feeling about this one.\"\n\n\"Oh, fine.\" She sat up and let him spin her board around.\n\nKira looked back at Tristan, hoping to spot him in action, and instead met his eyes, which had turned to match the color of the sky. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-smile, which she first thought was meant for her, until he turned to watch Jerome who had stood up on his board to do a pretty good impression of her last fall, which was a total body flip off her board as soon as she had attempted to lift her hands and stand. Spurned into anger, Kira decided to act. She had always thought that nothing was as good a motivator as furiously wanting to shove someone's joke back in his face.\n\n\"Luke, I am so ready for this. Don't push me into the wave. I just got that feeling where I know I am going to kick some ass.\" He took his hand off her board to let her try by herself.\n\nKira saw the set approaching and, like Luke had said, let the first and usually smallest wave go by. She started paddling for the second one and felt the acceleration when the wave latched onto her. Quickly, Kira lifted her upper body, smoothed her foot along the board until it came perpendicular to her knee, flung her left leg to the front of the board and stood as quickly as she could. She waited to lose her footing, to slip off of the edge, but that moment never came. She paid close attention, never letting the board wobble too much and trying to hold her own against the water rushing her toward the shore.\n\n_This is exhilarating_ , Kira thought. The excitement mounted with every moment that she didn't fall and with every increase in her speed. When she finally felt herself slow down and saw the sandy beach through the water, Kira threw her hands up in the air, leaped off her board, and jumped up and down, splashing water everywhere.\n\nLuke and Dave rolled in on the third wave, only seconds behind her. Luke picked her up and spun her around while Dave slammed her hand in a high five. She looked over at Tristan again and caught the grin curving his lips. Maybe he had been rooting for her all along, she mused.\n\n\"That was awesome,\" Kira said with a beaming smile.\n\n\"It really was, now let's grab some food.\" Luke turned toward the towels with a hopeful look that silently prayed Emma and Miles hadn't emptied out the cooler.\n\n\"What? Food? I just got the hang of this.\" The boys looked at her with sad baby faces. \"Okay, you guys go eat, I'm going to try for a few more waves.\"\n\n\"You sure?\" Dave asked, and Kira could tell he had finally warmed up to her. A day in the water could do wonders.\n\n\"Go, go. I'll be in soon.\" She shooed them along and then threw herself back on her board to paddle out past the breaking waves. As she caught the next wave, Kira knew she had the technique down. She rode in perfectly and paddled out for more. After a few turns on the small waves, she decided to try for something bigger.\n\nTristan sat alone in the water, closer to the pier where the waves had been breaking earlier and getting larger. Some part of Kira wanted to prove to him that he was wrong, wrong in judging her based on stolen glances and wrong in making fun of her. Kira could feel his eyes on her as she paddled closer. And maybe she was being too self-assured or was too fueled by the anger he had sparked in her, but Kira knew she had to try to show him something about her that he hadn't already assumed.\n\nKira never met his stare. She didn't want him to know how much his presence affected her, so instead she looked out at the horizon for the next set.\n\nKira saw the curl, saw it break early against the pier, and paddled with all the strength she had left. When the wave got closer, she knew it was too big for her to handle and almost wanted to back out, but Tristan was still watching her. The wave picked her up and pushed her faster than she had ever gone before. When she tried to stand, her board nosedived with the speed and Kira fell headfirst over her board and into the water. She flipped underwater a few times, the strain of her board pulling her forward until she finally broke the surface for air.\n\nAfter a gulp, the next wave crashed and she was thrown under again. She caught her breath for a moment of relief before the third wave in the set smacked her, and she had nothing left to fight. The wave pushed her under, and her board smacked her forehead.\n\nPain flashed. And then nothing.\n\nShe was sinking. Her board tugged, pulling her underwater.\n\nAnd then Kira fell into darkness.\n\n\"Kira, come on.\" She heard the command in his deep voice, but couldn't respond. \"Kira, wake up.\"\n\nA hand slapped her in the face, once, twice, a third time and then her eyes shot open and she tried to breathe, but her throat was stuck. Someone flipped her to her side as she began coughing, and finally she spit up what seemed like a gallon of water. Kira lay down again and closed her eyes, wanting to sleep.\n\n\"Kira!\" One more smack landed on her face. \"You have to stay awake.\"\n\nShe opened her eyes and saw the blurry outline of a boy with dark hair and pale skin. \"Tristan?\"\n\n\"Hello.\"\n\nShe saw the corner of his mouth curve upward despite her uneasy vision. \"What happened?\"\n\n\"You were being stupid,\" he drawled. Kira started to remember the wave and wipeout, and then her anger brimmed back to the surface.\n\n\"Only because you were being an ass,\" she grumbled. He just laughed.\n\n\"Come on, try to sit up.\" Tristan curved an arm around her back to help lift her up.\n\nShe noticed, at that moment, that they both wore only bathing suits and she was basically sitting on his lap. Kira tried to discreetly look at his chest, which was quite chiseled, and then she noticed the nice bulge of a bicep in his arm. Kira let her eyes wander a few moments longer until Tristan picked her up far enough for the pain in her head to finally hit. She groaned, put a hand to her brow, and curled into his body a little more.\n\n\"Ow.\"\n\n\"Yeah, your board got you pretty bad.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Kira was starting to get annoyed by his habit of stating the obvious. She pulled her hand back for a moment. \"Crap! I'm bleeding.\"\n\nHe stared at her hand, which was covered in running red liquid, until she put it back to her head. Kira noticed he was staring again, but this time at her wound. He leaned in closer, inspecting it she hoped.\n\nAfter a minute, she couldn't take it. \"Tristan, tell it to me straight. How bad is it?\"\n\nHe jerked as if she had interrupted him mid-thought. \"Oh. It's nothing. You'll be fine. Might need a few stitches.\"\n\nHe sat her up on her own and moved back a foot.\n\n\"Thanks...for helping me, I mean,\" she said, not sure where to look, eyes landing on his face and then staying there. A few different emotions pass over his features until he finally settled on the half-smile she had started to like.\n\nTristan grabbed a shirt from the unguarded towel next to him, looked at it, looked at Kira, and shrugged. He put it to her head, told her to hold it there, and helped her stand up.\n\n\"Get away from her.\" Luke's voice boomed from behind. He barged in, pushing Tristan to the side.\n\n\"Chill out, Luke. I didn't do anything.\"\n\n\"I don't care. Leave,\" he commanded, voice angrier than Kira ever remembered hearing.\n\n\"And if I don't want to?\" Tristan asked. Kira knew he was saying it more to test Luke and less because he really needed to stay.\n\n\"Then...\" Luke paused, clenching his fists and looking around. Then he promptly punched Tristan in the face. For a moment, Kira thought she saw a flashing light, but she quickly realized it must have been the sun, which had previously been silhouetted behind the two boys. Tristan fell over and rolled once on the ground.\n\n\"Luke! Stop it. He just saved my life.\"\n\n\"Come on, Kira.\" Luke tugged her hand. She glanced back at Tristan, who just nodded to her, and followed Luke. \"We have to take you to the hospital.\"\n\nShe didn't mention the punch, wanting to wait for a good time. Instead, she went with her friends back to the car, listened to them talk about trivial things to distract her, allowed Luke to carry her into the hospital, and tried to process the heavy thoughts churning in her head.\n\nChapter Three\n\nDuring the car ride home from the hospital, Kira tried to drone out the lecture her parents were offering from the front seat. Surfing is dangerous, blah blah blah. She put her hand to her scalp and felt the five stitches that had been sewn there to hold her skin together. Truthfully, she was just relieved it had been the back of her head—losing a little hair was nothing compared to having a scar on her face.\n\nBeside her, Kira's little sister was starting to nod off. She pulled Chloe's head over so it rested on her lap and ran her hand through her sister's silky brown hair, looking outside at the moss-covered trees passing by.\n\nMildly distracted, she did her best to respond to her mother at the necessary moments, so she would think Kira was listening. But as the lecture droned on, Kira reached her hand up to the back of her head a second time and finally realized how close she had come to drowning—a fact she would never tell her parents. She didn't even remember getting out from under the water. All she could remember were the waves pounding her every time she tried to surface and the searing pain of her board hitting her on the head. Kira couldn't blame surfing. She could only blame her own stupidity. She'd known the waves were too big, but she was too stubborn to stop when she had a point to prove. Hopefully Tristan had been trying to prove a point too—maybe he didn't hate her like she knew his friends did.\n\nWhen she got home, Kira ran to her room and called Emma. She needed to discuss things with a girl. For most of her life, Kira had been one of those girls that was one of the guys. Now, she needed a girl who was her opposite to help her dissect the situation. After half an hour, headlights pierced through the window and Kira went downstairs to get the door.\n\n\"Oh my god,\" was the first thing Emma said. \"We have so much to discuss. Let's grab some comfort food. Do you have potato chips? I can't resist.\"\n\nKira grabbed some cookies and chips from the kitchen, and led Emma outside to the back porch. She sat on the hammock while Emma curled up on the wicker chair.\n\n\"You know, Kira, it's a little spooky out here. You live kind of far into the woods.\" Emma hugged her legs a little tighter and searched the surrounding woods for anything terrifying.\n\n\"Trust me, I know, but you get used to it.\" Kira let Emma get the search out of her system, and lay down, peering past the edge of the porch roof to search for stars.\n\n\"So who first? Luke or Tristan? Don't tell me you called me over here just to gaze mysteriously at the sky.\"\n\nKira sighed. \"I know.\" She chewed her lip for a moment, thinking. \"You choose. I'm just as confused by both of them.\"\n\n\"Well then, I've been dying to tell you what a freaking god Tristan looked like when he carried you out of the water. You, of course, were dangling there like a dead fish, but let me tell you.\" Emma shook her head as if there were no words and fanned herself.\n\n\"Wait, he carried me out?\" Kira grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. Reliving a near death experience required chocolate, especially when someone just said you looked like a dead fish in the arms of a god. Great description.\n\n\"Yes, dummy, how else do you think you ended up on the sand?\"\n\n\"I don't know...\"\n\n\"Well, anyway, let me paint you the picture, because it was like a scene from a movie, or more likely from Baywatch, but still unreal. The guys and I are sitting on the towels, chatting and eating, when suddenly Luke looks up and is like 'Where's Kira' and the guys start to freak out because they don't see you anywhere. Then, I look out all the way down toward the pier and tell them you moved over there to surf. Dave and Luke just shake their heads at each other, like they know you can't handle it, and the four of us watch you try to catch that wave. For a second Dave is like 'she's gonna do it' in that awed voice that is so cute. Anyway, instead, we see you wipe out huge, and we all start laughing cause you just looked ridiculous, but then you don't surface. We are all staring, and after two minutes, we don't see you, and Luke goes running down the beach.\n\n\"Then, out of nowhere, Tristan emerges from a wave holding you in his arms. His body is dripping with water, making the sun bounce off of him, and his arm muscles are bulging. I mean, I practically heard every girl on the beach sigh with jealousy and have a momentary heart attack because of how hot he is. Anyway, he runs from the water, sets you down really gently, and then starts slapping you in the face. I didn't get it, but we all saw you wake up while we were running over and were so happy, until we saw Luke punch Tristan in the face.\"\n\nAt the mention, Kira groaned.\n\n\"Why did he do that?\" she asked while grabbing another cookie. A near-death experience followed by your guy friend punching your savior and potential crush in the face seriously required chocolate.\n\n\"Because you, my friend, have been dropped right in the middle of a love triangle.\"\n\n\"No!\" Kira put her head in her hands. Screw chocolate. She needed vodka. \"Luke doesn't like me like that, we're friends, okay? Right? And Tristan, well, I don't even know him.\"\n\n\"Listen to me,\" Emma said and put her hand on Kira's shoulder. Kira sat up, looking her friend in the face. \"No guy punches another guy over nothing and no guy is as attentive as Tristan is to you over nothing. Something is going on.\"\n\n_Something is definitely going on_ , Kira thought. But it wasn't so simple as a love triangle—something else was at play. That much she knew.\n\nEmma continued, unaware of the thoughts churning in Kira's mind. \"I know you don't want to hear it, but I've never seen Luke watch someone like he watches you, like he's always looking to protect you. Maybe you should talk to him?\"\n\n\"Yeah, you're right,\" Kira replied, wanting to leave it at that and not let Emma know she thought something else was going on. Luke wouldn't tell her anything, which was why Kira had invited Emma over—to dig up dirt that Luke would never tell her. And she couldn't resist asking Emma, the boy genius, about Tristan too. \"So, do you think he actually likes me?\"\n\n\"I knew it, I knew it. You are definitely crushing on Tristan, and, well, who can blame you.\" Her eyes started to glaze over.\n\n\"Um, Emma?\"\n\n\"Right right, sorry. I love Dave, but a bad boy is always dreamy.\"\n\nKira sighed. Just what she didn't want to hear. \"And you think Tristan is a bad boy?\"\n\n\"Kira, please, let's not state the obvious. The real question is, would he change for you?\"\n\nKira paused. \"No?\" She tried to convince herself and Emma that she wouldn't be the one to try to change him. It never worked out she knew, but in the back of her mind Kira could hear a small part of her say _yes_.\n\n\"I don't know, not yet. But I will, I promise, even if it takes all the knowledge of boys I possess and a little more snooping.\"\n\nKira laughed, happy she and Emma had started this new stage of their friendship. It would be great to have a girlfriend who she could gossip with, and who could help her figure out her disheveled love life, something she had never been able to master.\n\n\"Have Tristan and Luke always hated each other?\" Kira asked. Emma nodded while munching on a chip. \"Do you know why?\"\n\nEmma shrugged. \"I'd say it was an instantaneous thing. Miles was the first one of us to arrive, then I showed up a day after him, and the next week Dave showed up with Luke right behind him. None of us really knew each other at that point, but I still remember when Luke walked into the lunchroom. We figured we would round him up, but when he walked down the cafeteria aisle, I remember he paused and looked right out the window toward the misfits. They all stood outside and stared back at him with seriously evil smiles. It was like a challenge or something. None of us knew what caused it, but that first day we met Luke he was nothing like he is now. He was angry the whole day and barely spoke to any of us. In fact, the next day we were all questioning if we wanted to let him in the group, but he came back on his second day as the charming person we know and love. Still though, he changes around them. Oh, and there was Bethany.\"\n\nEmma paused to grab another chip. She chewed on it slowly, eyes losing focus on the forest around them, and Kira wanted to wring her friend's neck in anticipation. This was it—this could be the explanation she had been looking for.\n\n\"Bethany?\" Kira prompted.\n\n\"I'm trying to remember all the details. Bethany was the first girl Luke dated, here at least. They met his second week of school, and he was head over heels for her. After a month, we all knew he was in love, but none of us was as sure about her feelings. She was the kind of girl who tricks a guy into falling for her, but keeps a wandering eye.\" Emma sneered to show her disgust. \"The boys all loved her, but I had a feeling something was off. Anyway, there was this party, and Bethany told Luke she was doing homework and couldn't come out. So, we all went without her, but it was totally lame and we heard people were partying at the beach. We drove the extra fifteen minutes, and when we walked onto the beach the first thing we saw were Tristan and Bethany making out in the dunes. Luke ran over and punched Tristan in the face. By the time we got there, blood was all over Tristan's face and Luke's hand, and we had to pull him away. It was messy.\"\n\nEmma shook her head, and Kira flashed back to Luke's punch on the beach, somewhat surprised Tristan hadn't started gushing blood then too.\n\n\"Yeah, wow, I didn't expect that.\" Kira chewed on her lip. \"So I'll be the worst person ever if I try to date Tristan knowing Luke hates him and maybe likes me.\"\n\n\"Eh, fifty-fifty on that, but you have to do what you want.\" Emma looked at Kira with wide eyes, showing her that she meant those words.\n\nKira curled back up in the hammock and listened to the breeze ruffle through the trees. That was the clue she had been waiting for, but she wasn't so happy now that she had it. Even if Luke and Tristan had hated each other from the start, Bethany had been the catalyst, and maybe Kira's presence had dredged up old wounds. She needed to talk to Luke about this.\n\n\"Thanks for coming over, Emma,\" Kira told her friend at the door an hour later. Their conversation had moved past Tristan and Luke and into school gossip. But it became so late that Kira's pain meds had worn off, and she knew she needed to sleep on everything.\n\nEmma smiled. \"You know I'm here when you need me.\"\n\nThey hugged and Kira watched her friend leave before shutting the door and heading upstairs. Instead of lying awake for hours, as she had expected, sleep came almost instantly—and thankfully dreamlessly, considering her tumultuous thoughts.\n\nThe first thing Kira did the next morning was Google search for a Starbucks, and then call Luke to meet her there. In New York, coffee shops had been her favorite place to meet with friends, and she needed a comfortable spot to have this conversation with Luke. She loved the smell of coffee brewing and the artsy laid back feel that most coffee shops had. Everyone was in his or her own world, typing away at a computer or talking about the previous days' events, but it was like a secret community.\n\nKira's drive over was solemn, but when she arrived at Starbucks and sat down with a latte, she already felt more relaxed. The indie music of an up-and-coming artist was playing in the background, and she sank into her big leather seat to wait.\n\nLuke walked in about ten minutes later, and she waved him over. When he sat down, Kira didn't really know where to start, so she waited for him to say something.\n\n\"So, how's my hospital patient?\"\n\nShe smiled. Luke always did make her laugh. \"Fine, thanks. And, even though my mom thinks I'm crazy, I can't wait to try surfing again.\"\n\n\"Such a bad ass.\" He grinned.\n\nShe relaxed finally and tried to face what she had come to say. \"Luke, believe it or not, I didn't just ask you for coffee to swap jokes, I actually need to talk to you about something.\" He nodded, prodding her on. Kira wasn't sure how to tell him gently, so she figured the best approach was quick and to the point—like ripping off a Band-Aid. \"Luke...I know about Bethany.\"\n\n\"Dramatic much, Kira? It's not like she died.\"\n\nShe knew him well enough to know he was trying to brush it off, but couldn't quite. \"Emma came over last night and told me the whole story, and I know that's why you hate Tristan.\"\n\n\"Kira, that's not even half of why I hate Tristan. Can't we just drop it?\"\n\n\"Why won't you talk to me? I feel like I just got plopped down into the middle of a television show. I know all the characters, but none of the plot.\" Kira set her coffee cup down. Whenever she was angry, her hands had this bad habit of moving on their own accord, usually in wide sweeping circles that would definitely spill her warm, sugary latte everywhere.\n\n\"I can't tell you. Trust me, I would because I know it would keep you away from Tristan, but I can't.\" Luke leaned closer to her—his eyes crinkled at the edges as he pleaded with her to understand him and stop the argument.\n\n\"Why not?\" She questioned, anger mounting. She had known he was keeping things from her the moment they had met, but she couldn't guess what it was or could even be.\n\n\"I just can't, okay? Drop it, seriously.\"\n\nThere was an awkward pause. Kira wouldn't speak until he gave something up, and he wouldn't give any information away. Luke fell back against his chair.\n\n\"So, surfing...\"\n\n\"Oh, don't change the topic,\" Kira snapped to shut him up. \"There's something else I want to talk about too, as long as we're at a stalemate with the other topic...?\"\n\n\"We are.\" He nodded to enforce the finality.\n\n\"Fine, then I need to ask you something.\" Kira picked her mug back up to ponder. On her ride over to the coffee shop, she debated talking to him about this in case it hurt his ego. But, now that she was angry with him for holding so much back and keeping so many secrets from her, Kira had no such reservations. \"Luke, do you like me?\"\n\n\"Sure, what's not to like?\"\n\nKira stared at him, waiting. _Typical of a man to totally misread the question entirely_ , she thought.\n\n\"Oh...\" Luke twitched, finally understanding. \"I mean, you're great and all, but I really thought we'd just be friends, you know?\"\n\nKira smiled, totally relieved. \"Thank god. Me too. So, why did you punch Tristan yesterday if not jealousy?\"\n\n\"Plead the fifth?\" He grinned like a little boy trying way too hard to appear innocent.\n\n\"Luke, this is ridiculous. He saved my life. I would have died if not for him, and you punched him in the face! Seriously, you have got to get over whatever it is that's between you guys, because I won't let you punch him in the face the next time he does something nice for me.\" Not like she knew he ever would. It could have been a one time, \"I was the closest person to you\", sort of thing. But Kira hoped not.\n\n\"I know you don't understand but eventually you will. And I hope I'm there to help you when that happens.\" Luke stood up and left, letting the door slam behind him.\n\nKira remained sitting and sipped the rest of her coffee slowly. Now she was really confused. Who wasn't letting Luke talk, or was he just using that as an excuse? Kira had thought he would be a best friend to her, but how could someone who wouldn't even explain himself be her best friend? Luke was clearly emotionally hurt about Bethany but wouldn't talk, hated Tristan for something that happened a year ago, and hated him more for something he wouldn't discuss. Maybe she would have to go to the source of the trouble. And what of him? All she knew about Tristan was that he had been a jerk to her, but then he saved her life. Was that enough to redeem someone whom everyone she knew disliked?\n\nAnd what of love? Thank goodness Luke had no feelings for her, but Kira needed to decide for herself what she wanted from Tristan. He was gorgeous of course, but she barely knew him. She shouldn't be catching her breath every time she saw him and getting little chills up her spine at the thought of him. And yet there she was, looking out the window of the local Starbucks, holding her breath and feeling a tingle when he unexpectedly stepped out of a car with Jerome, John, and Diana in tow.\n\nTristan's face didn't have a single scratch from yesterday, and his pale skin wasn't marred with a purple bruise. Kira was surprised—on the beach it had seemed like Luke really hit him. But his cheek was pristine as it rose in a smile, a reaction to whatever funny words Jerome had just voiced. Kira watched, heart pounding, as a dimple curved into his cheek and his hair fell over his eyes. Tristan shook with laughter, but he stopped before the others. A dark look slowly gathered back to his face as his mouth curved down, and his eyes became full of his own troubled thoughts again. Kira could read him just as easily as she read other people—she just couldn't read how he felt about her.\n\nUnaware of her presence, the four of them walked toward a sporting goods shop next door. Quickly, Kira drank the rest of her latte, waiting until they went inside before sneaking over and carefully opening the shop door without making a sound. Kira wanted to snoop now that she finally had the chance to get some real unguarded information.\n\nShe slowly walked down the aisles, checking each one with a quick peek before entering. She eventually spotted them in the surfing goods section at the back of the store and walked down the parallel aisle, trying to hear tidbits of their conversation. Through a small hole in the shelf, she could just barely see them, but it was enough for prime eavesdropping. They were talking about surfing wax because John needed some.\n\n_Great_ , Kira thought. She was really going to learn a lot on this covert mission.\n\nAfter a few minutes, staring at what looked like soap to Kira, they moved down toward the boards themselves. Tristan needed a new surfboard—he had abandoned his in the water when he dove in to save her. They started to talk about his rescue.\n\nThis was exactly what she needed.\n\n\"Why'd you do it?\" Kira heard John ask.\n\nTristan carefully examined the fins of a new board and smoothed his hand along the bottom, testing the curve of the wood. \"I knew it would annoy Luke, and besides, we might be able to use her later. Letting her die would have been a waste.\"\n\nKira stopped breathing so she could listen closer. This wasn't about her at all. Maybe he would have even let her drown.\n\n\"Good thinking,\" Jerome praised him.\n\nWhat was she to them? She would never let herself be used by anybody, ever. The fact that they thought she would was more proof that they were the ignorant ones—not her.\n\n\"I don't think it's as simple as you make it sound, Tristan.\" Diana spit out the words, and then put her hand on Tristan's, making him meet her gaze. \"I see the way you've looked at her. The way you held her when she woke.\"\n\n\"Don't be absurd.\" Tristan looked back down, brows knotting, unable to hold Diana's gaze for too long. She threw his hand away from hers and off the board, so he couldn't hide behind it.\n\n\"Jealously doesn't become you,\" Jerome said to Diana.\n\n\"We'll see,\" was all she replied.\n\nKira didn't want to trust her ears. Tristan's concern had seemed so real on the beach. But, maybe Diana was right. Maybe he was helping just because he wanted to protect her. Maybe there were things he didn't want his friends to know. Maybe—Kira started but then her tippy-toe balance failed her and she knocked the shelf, letting a few soccer balls fly off and bounce down the aisle.\n\n_Crap_ , she thought and ran to another aisle to escape before they caught her. Kira heard one of them say to separate and check on who was listening, so she dove into the best hiding spot she could find—a tent that had been set up in the camping section. She zipped it halfway, to prevent from being too obvious, and hid behind the closed part of the flap.\n\nKira barely breathed for ten minutes until she saw the misfits walk past her tent with a surfboard and head for the cash register. After they left, she slowly emerged from the tent and calmly walked out the door.\n\n\"Miss, miss!\" She turned to see an employee from the sporting store running after her. \"I'm supposed to give you this.\" He handed her a small piece of paper and turned back toward his store. Kira stared at the folded note, unsure of whether to open it or let it fly away in the wind.\n\n\"Hi, Kira. Nice hiding spot. Tristan.\"\n\nA shiver ran down her spine, of fear or of excitement, she didn't know. But she did know one thing—he didn't rat her out to his friends or they would've confronted her, which meant Tristan was keeping secrets.\n\nThe question was really how many and from whom?\n\nChapter Four\n\nFor the next three weeks, Kira ignored Tristan. At school, she built her friendships with Luke, Miles, Dave, and Emma. At home, she played with her sister and practiced for culinary school. She was determined not to think of him and the drama he would bring into her life. Instead, Kira focused on all of the people and things she did have and let that little part in the back of her head that longed for him get quieter and quieter. But she couldn't completely erase the nagging wish that he would be the one to break the silence and approach her.\n\nOn the first Saturday of October, Kira decided it was finally time to start working on her term paper about Charleston's role in the War of Northern Aggression, more commonly referred to by the rest of the world as the American Civil War. Her history teacher had assigned the entire class a research paper due before Christmas about Charleston's local history and involvement in the war. The open-ended question was to be interpreted in any form she wanted, and Kira thought it was more than annoying that most of the students had a lifetime of knowledge about the city compared to her meager month and summers spent mostly at the beach. Today would be her day to wander around and explore until something interesting caught her eye.\n\nBattery Park was the first stop. Kira figured she would start from the southernmost tip of Charleston and move north. As she walked along the wharf that ran parallel to the park, Kira noticed that the Civil War monuments still stood but their meaning had been left behind. Statues had been erected to honor past heroes of the South and cannons were placed facing the open water as if still waiting for an attack to defend against. However, the mounds of cannon balls were now a play place for children pretending to be soldiers, and the statues were a challenge to little adventurers hoping to climb something more than a tree. The North had long since moved past the Civil War, but even in Charleston, a city engrossed in its own history, the past was beginning to be left behind.\n\nKira leaned against the metal fence, facing the sea. In the distance, almost like a mirage, stood Fort Sumter, the ultimate spot of Charleston's Civil War history. It seemed hard to believe that such a small island fortress had been such a huge stronghold and spot of aggression. But she knew it was too easy of a pick for her paper and figured almost everyone in her class would be writing about it.\n\nKira turned back toward Battery Park just as a modern day horse and carriage rode past her. She tried to picture two women with hoop skirts and floppy hats riding around, probably pulled by a slave, and envisioned men wandering around in uniforms with muskets to patrol the streets against a potential Northern invasion. She imagined a way of life come crumbling down, imagined the mansions in front of her exploding with cannon fire, and all the beautiful trees around her lighting up in flames.\n\nFor a moment, she saw all of that, until someone's breath tickled her neck and a whisper made its way to her ear.\n\n\"Lost in thought?\" Tristan's deep voice sent a shiver down her spine, and a secret smile played upon her lips—he was officially the one who broke the silence. Since she had tested her own willpower and won, Kira decided it was perfectly fine to talk to him now.\n\n\"I was until you so rudely interrupted,\" she said playfully while turning her body to face his. Kira took note of his dark-washed jeans and how they completely opposed her own white tank top and flower-covered skirt.\n\nTristan shrugged and said, \"Since I've already annoyed you, I guess there's no real reason to stop.\" She couldn't help but laugh, and he smiled in return. \"What were you thinking about?\" He leaned back against the rail, so his arm lightly brushed against hers.\n\n\"Hoop skirts and muskets,\" she blurted out.\n\n\"What?\" He lifted one corner of his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows in a half-question, half-laugh.\n\n\"Oh, sorry, my Civil War paper.\" Kira frowned and looked beyond Tristan at Battery Park. \"I see all of the history here, but I can't seem to find a topic that really stands out to me.\"\n\n\"Come on.\" He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward a cannon across the street. \"Who better to show you around than a Charleston native?\"\n\nAfter not speaking for three weeks, Kira had never expected to have Tristan as her own personal tour guide, but it was perfect. He seemed to know everything about the city, and spending the afternoon with him was exactly what she needed to get the paper done. It also happened to be exactly what she wanted in her heart.\n\nTristan led her around Battery Park first, pointing out a huge mansion that was a wedding gift from a father to a daughter after the war, and another beautiful town home that still had a piece of shrapnel lodged in the roof from a Northern attack. He explained that Battery Park had been Charleston's first line of defense against any ships that made it past Fort Sumter and had not always been so picturesque. They kept walking as Tristan pointed out famous cemeteries where Confederate soldiers were buried and tons of buildings that had been preserved during the war that were truly from historic Charleston. They walked to the old slave market, which was now a flea market where local artisans could sell their goods. He showed her where the slaves had been kept, how they were sold, and where they were eventually set free. He painted the picture of a graceful city with an ugly undercurrent of racism that still needed to be weeded out.\n\n\"How do you know all of this?\" She questioned him after two hours.\n\n\"You pick up a lot when you live here.\" He shrugged. \"Charlestonians are very proud of their history.\"\n\n\"I guess, but you describe it like you lived there.\"\n\nHe breathed out a laugh, one that almost sounded like a sigh. \"Do you actually believe that's possible?\" His squinted eyes caught hers at that moment and she knew there was more to this question, some deeper meaning. Her heart skipped a beat. Was it possible?\n\n\"Of course not,\" Kira looked away, flustered, and focused on the old woman sitting on a blanket on the sidewalk weaving a straw basket. She could have been from a different era and almost seemed out of place near the busy intersection where cars zoomed by behind her.\n\nKira looked back at Tristan. Did he fit into the scene? His constant brood made it seem like he was years older than he looked. She knew he had more on his mind than the average seventeen-year-old, but was that enough to start believing impossible things?\n\n\"Come on.\" He nodded to the side making his hair slip to shield his eyes. When the piercing blue was hidden in shadow, Kira finally felt she could breathe and stopped her mind before it dreamed up even crazier theories. \"I want to take you to my favorite place in the city.\"\n\nThey walked for a while, lightly chatting to avoid any serious topics, before Tristan stopped in front of a huge building. Four round columns shot upward into a huge triangular frieze that reminded Kira of a Roman temple, until she looked further up and saw the top of a steeple. The building was huge but rather plain with large wooden doors and sweeping windows, but no ornate decorations marred the beauty of the architecture. The yellow-tinted stone created a beautiful contrast against the blue sky, and Kira tried to take it all in before she looked to her left to read the sign that stated Saint Philips Episcopal Church. Kira was a little shocked. She had never figured Tristan as the religious type.\n\n\"I know what you're thinking, but it's because of the view.\" He started to enter and she had no real choice but to follow. When she walked inside, the sanctuary took her breath away. Huge white columns rose toward an arched ceiling that was also a polished white. The marble floor led her eye past the ivory pews toward a huge stained glass window behind the altar. With the sunlight beaming through, the window acted almost like a kaleidoscope, casting colors around the otherwise bare room. Kira looked up at the balconies that ran parallel down the sides of the church and were composed of carved mahogany, creating a striking contrast. And when she turned, an organ took up the majority of the back wall, and she could almost feel the music coming from the great instrument.\n\n\"Kira, come on.\" Tristan stood beneath the organ and waved her over. \"This is nothing.\"\n\nHe walked over to the wall at the left corner of the church, and Kira watched him dubiously. Suddenly, what had seemed like solid plaster creaked open as Tristan found the secret latch he had been searching for. He pulled the thick door and moved his arm toward the opening as if to say, \"After you, miss.\"\n\n\"Is this allowed?\" Kira asked while she peered into the darkness.\n\n\"Rules are made to be broken,\" Tristan said with a wry smile. She knew it was a challenge—could she drop her usually straight-laced mentality?\n\nKira smiled back and started walking. As she passed through the hidden entry, she found a wooden staircase that creaked when she put her weight on the first step. She saw the light disappear and heard the door shut as she continued to climb with Tristan following behind her.\n\nWhen she reached the top, she could see the structure of the arched ceiling and knew they were above one of the balconies. Kira tried not to touch any of the dirt and dust, which she was sure held tons of nasty insects she would rather keep away from, and followed Tristan's exact movements as he confidently strode toward a second door. Cobwebs draped from the handle, and Tristan swiped them away. They were definitely not supposed to be up here, but she was too intrigued to see what waited at the end of the climb and too scared to turn around and face the darkness alone.\n\nKira's breath became labored as they walked farther and farther up the never-ending staircase that she could only assume belonged to the steeple. Finally, she saw light and as she turned around the circular steps, a window appeared. She peeked through the grimy glass to see that they were well above the city skyline.\n\n\"We're almost at the top,\" Tristan looked back to tell her as if he had heard her stop.\n\nKira started climbing again, energized by the fact they had almost reached their destination. At last, the steps gave way to a wooden platform, and Kira was greeted by church bells and a long rope that hung through a hole in the floor. She followed Tristan through the maze of bells, until he finally sat down on a cushioned bench right next to a huge window. Using his sleeve, he cleaned the dust away. When Kira looked outside, she could see for miles.\n\n\"Wow,\" was all she could say.\n\nKira glanced toward the harbor and saw Fort Sumter and Battery Park for the second time that day, but now it was from above. The mansions seemed small, and even the trees looked like toys from so high up. She swore she could see all the way to the ocean, and she counted the sailboats in the harbor. From this vantage point, they looked more like white speckles than large ships.\n\n\"I know, it's pretty amazing right? Best view in the city.\" Tristan motioned to the other side of the bench. She sat down while still soaking in the scene.\n\n\"How'd you find out about this place?\" Kira looked at him and noticed he was just as caught up by the sight as she was.\n\n\"My mother showed me.\" He paused, and Kira saw his eyes lose focus as he jumped back into his own memory. \"It was a long time ago,\" he said after a few moments of silence.\n\n\"Do you miss her?\" she asked, guessing she must have died when he was young. Tristan nodded and she saw him retreat again.\n\n\"You can talk to me.\" She reached out to grab his hand. He met her gaze when their fingers touched. Sadness laced his melancholic blue eyes, but Kira didn't know what to do about it.\n\n\"I believe you,\" he said, grasping her hand tighter, and they remained quiet for a moment, just feeling comforted by one another's presence. Kira looked at her palm resting on Tristan's lap and wondered if she could have ever guessed that the day would lead her here.\n\nIn the corner of her eye, she noticed something peeking out of Tristan's pocket—something she hadn't seen when he had been standing.\n\n\"What's that?\" she asked, and he followed her gaze to see what she meant.\n\nA second later, he pulled a small moleskin notebook from his pocket and handed it to her. \"It's just sketches, you can take a look if you want.\"\n\n\"You draw?\" She opened the book.\n\n\"Just as a hobby.\"\n\nKira imagined more than saw his shrug because she quickly became engrossed by his small pencil drawings. There were pages of hands that were perfectly shaded and seemed to leap from the paper. There were outlined sketches of people playing in parks, dogs running, and children hanging on swings. She came upon a series of pages dedicated to different people sitting on benches—one an old woman whose laugh lines told the story of a beautiful life, another a homeless man who was draped in newspapers for warmth, a third a couple holding hands and staring out toward their future.\n\n\"Tristan, these are amazing,\" Kira told him without pausing to look up. She continued to flip through the small notebook, slowly taking in his work. \"Seriously, this isn't just a hobby.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" he told her when she gave it back.\n\n\"Have you ever thought about art school?\"\n\n\"Not for me.\" He shook his head while stuffing the notebook into his pocket.\n\n\"Why not? You should let people teach you. Those drawings have a real personality to them. I can tell exactly who the people you are picturing are just by the expressions you give them.\" Tristan shrugged in response, which just made Kira push the point even more. \"I get the whole bad boy thing you do, but I know it's just a front. You really care about people. I can tell from the drawings that you choose people you feel for in some way.\"\n\nHe sighed when she finished talking, as if he had known she would notice that but had hoped she wouldn't. Then his expression changed so his lip curved up and his eyes gleamed in a mischievous way. \"A front, huh? I just broke you into a church.\"\n\n\"You broke me into a church to show me a beautiful view and a place that is sacred to you. Not exactly the same as breaking and entering,\" she challenged back.\n\n\"Ah, but we used the trap door, which most people don't know about. I could have just taken you up the janitor's steps.\"\n\n\"Would those have been cobweb free?\" He nodded and Kira slapped his arm. \"Jerk.\"\n\n\"Come on, it was much more adventurous my way. Admit it, you were scared but secretly excited.\"\n\nKira smiled, whispering, \"That's generally how you make me feel.\"\n\nThe words popped out of her mouth before she had time to think. She cringed and silently cursed herself for basically admitting she liked him.\n\n\"Me too,\" he whispered, more to himself than to her.\n\nShe looked up, but Tristan gazed out the window. She knew his thoughts were churning, and she wished she could peek inside of his head for just a minute.\n\n\"Tristan?\" she asked to see if he was listening.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said distantly.\n\n\"Why did you save my life? You know I heard what you said to your friends, but for some reason I can't believe it.\"\n\nHe turned to look at her now, and Kira was certain he could read the confusion on her face. His chest expanded slowly in a prolonged breath and his eyes remained closed for an instant too long. He was thinking about how to tell her something. Kira could almost see the secrets floating in his head and could feel him struggle with how much to say. \"I saved you because I wanted to protect you, and I still do. Some small part of me won't stop believing you are precious to me, even if I'm not supposed to feel that way.\"\n\nShe inched closer, trying to read his mind with her proximity. \"Who says you can't? Your friends?\"\n\nHe laughed bitterly. \"No, my so-called friends are the only ones making sense. We just can't ever be, Kira.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Someday, you'll understand.\" He leaned back against the wall, away from her presence.\n\n\"God, I am so sick of everyone telling me I'll eventually understand all of this stuff. Luke keeps telling me that, like some patronizing father who knows everything about my life, but won't give me any insight. And now you! I never expected this from you. What happened to 'Mr. Breaking the Rules'?\"\n\nKira started pacing around their little corner, trying to make sense of everything. She was sure Luke and Tristan and his crowd all knew something she didn't. They were all keeping the same secret from her. When would she realize it? When would she finally connect the dots and stop feeling like the baby that everyone had to coddle?\n\n\"I just can't be the one to tell you, to see you look at me with hatred, because you will hate me.\" Pain passed over Tristan's face and he winced.\n\n\"Look, Tristan, I get the whole self-loathing thing you have going on. I can see that you're troubled somehow by the way you retreat into your thoughts and lose track of the world. But don't presume to know my mind. You have no idea how I will react to anything. Everyone has some sort of past to hide. The fact that yours may be darker than most doesn't scare me. It makes me want to help you, not hate you.\" She practically spat those last few words, frustration at an all time high.\n\nHe stood, and she knew his anger had mounted with her little speech. \"Kira, you just don't know what you're talking about. It's not my past that you will hate me for, but today. Today, I let myself believe we lived in a different time, and when I saw you standing at the park, I couldn't help but be glad we could finally be alone together. But today, I let you feel for me and let my walls come down for an instant, and that is what you will hate me for, for the moments of intimacy that I will cherish but you will look back on and loathe.\"\n\nKira hadn't realized the fight had brought them face to face and mere inches apart. Like people say, anger is just one small step from passion, so when she spoke, she hardly realized what she would say until she said it. \"Well, if it's intimacy with you that I'll come to hate, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.\"\n\nKira took one small step forward and their bodies melted into one another's. Quickly, his hands cupped her cheeks and his lips were on hers. She reached her hands around Tristan's back to pull him closer. Heat rushed through her body and she moved with Tristan as he pushed her back against the wall, encasing her body within his, pulling his arms around her waist. Her hands found their way to his head and she grasped his thick black hair, running her fingers through it. His lips moved from her lips, down past her ear to the base of her neck.\n\n\"Kira,\" Tristan sighed. But then his body stiffened and he pulled away. \"I have to go,\" he said with a firmer voice.\n\nTristan turned away from her and left, disappearing before Kira even had time to react to what had just happened. Instead, she sank down the wall she had just been pressed against, gazed at the empty spot Tristan had filled moments ago, and began to cry.\n\nKira needed to understand whatever was going on. The frustration of not knowing was driving her crazy. Luke didn't want her spending time with Tristan, and even Tristan didn't want her spending time with Tristan, so she decided there was only one thing to do—spend more time around Tristan. He was the key to finding out her role in everything, and she knew he wanted to be close to her even if another part of him fought that feeling. Watching him run away had just made Kira even more determined to solve this mystery revolving around her, even if she would come to regret losing this ignorance.\n\nKira stood up and wiped her face free of tears. She looked out at the sun setting over Charleston and knew it was time to leave the church and what had happened there behind for a little while.\n\nShe grabbed her bag, which she had set down on the bench, and noticed that Tristan had dropped his notebook on the way out. She leaned down under the bench and slid the notebook from its hiding place in the dark. In place of a novel, she knew what she would be looking at before bed tonight.\n\nAfter finding her way through the bells and back down the steps, Kira searched for that janitor's staircase Tristan had mentioned. She walked in the dark around the circular steps three times before finally finding a small knob beautifully free of cobwebs and dirt, and slowly opened the door. This path led right down to the front lobby of the church, and Kira silently cursed Tristan as she placed her foot on each superbly polished step. She quickly walked through the lobby and out the door, thankful no one was there to see her sneaking out. After a bit more walking, Kira finally managed to find her car. When she got home, her parents were not pleased.\n\n\"Where have you been all day? I was worried sick.\" Her mother barraged her as soon as she opened the front door. Her father stood in the background nodding his head and giving her a stern look. \"I expected you to come home hours ago. Isn't this why we bought you a phone, so you could call us if you were running late? You don't understand what can happen to a young girl out alone at night.\"\n\nKira rolled her eyes and appeased her mother by listening to the lecture that began. She'd lived in New York, Kira thought, she understood the dangers of being alone in an unfamiliar place. She didn't bother to mention she had been abandoned by her tour guide after he ditched her in the church steeple they had broken into, which was why she had trouble finding her car.\n\nEventually, her mother cooled down and started breathing again. After which, Kira quickly said goodnight, made her exit, and snuck into her sister's room to kiss her sleeping forehead. When she made it to her own room, Kira breathed a sigh of relief that her father had remained silent because he usually asked all the questions she didn't want to give answers to. He was very good at reading people and almost always knew when she was hiding something.\n\nAfter a shower and some chocolates from her secret candy stash, Kira settled into bed and turned on her reading lamp. She gently eased Tristan's notebook open, and looked over the drawings she had gazed at earlier that day.\n\nAgain, Kira noticed the expressions he was able to convey, and she tried to think on why he chose those people on the benches in those three drawings that truly caught her eye. A homeless man? Had Tristan been homeless, or did he just sympathize with a man who had lost everything? An older woman? He could have a grandmother he missed, or old women could remind him of the age his mother should be. Kira thought back to his question. Did she believe he could have been alive during the war? Could he sympathize with the old because he would never be there? And what of the young couple in love? Was that why he pulled away? He was jealous of those in love because he believed he was not deserving of it?\n\nKira sighed. All she had were questions. Ever since she moved back to Charleston, everything about her life had become questions with no answers. She flipped past the bench drawings, past some blank pages, and tried to see if he drew anything else in that book she hadn't seen.\n\nAfter skipping through fifty blank pages, Kira was about ready to give up and go to bed when she turned one more page, and her own face was staring back at her. Her hair took up most of the small piece of paper, and within the mass of curls was the most perfect drawing of herself she had ever seen. The fire in her eyes sparkled. She was smiling in a laugh, and even her freckles were in the right location. Kira looked alive in the picture—and happy. Beyond all the minute details he drew to perfection, her emotion ran off the page. She looked like the sun radiating warmth to the viewer. Was this a drawing of how he pictured her? Kira never thought she had looked so happy or pretty in her life, but maybe Tristan had thought so.\n\nKira turned to the next page and saw a close-up of her eyes, turned again and it was her lips. One more turn and she saw herself standing by the wharf staring out at Fort Sumter with a breeze in her hair and her skirt flowing in the wind. Kira realized that he must have been observing her for a little while today before he finally snuck up on her to say hello. Why was he so afraid to talk to her? Everyone in school was intimidated by his good looks and standoffish attitude, by his dark slacks and typical black T-shirt, and by his friends. He was a bonafide bad boy. Every girl secretly loved it and every boy was secretly jealous of it, but Kira was starting to realize that it wasn't who he was at all. What bad boy secretly draws pictures of old ladies and young couples? Tristan was more of a tortured artist than anything else.\n\nShe sighed and turned the page again, but the blank paper returned. There were only four secret pages devoted to her, and Kira tore each one out before dropping the small notebook back into her bag to give to Tristan at school. She wanted him to know she had discovered his secret and that she wasn't going down without a fight.\n\nChapter Five\n\n\"Hello, gorgeous.\" Luke sat down next to Kira in the cafeteria with his typical greeting. \"Where were you this weekend? I didn't get a single phone call. Don't tell me you have a new best friend that you're sneaking around with.\" He looked at her with pouted puppy eyes.\n\n\"You know, now that I think of it, I do have a new best friend. It's called my Civil War term paper.\" She rolled her eyes and shoved her notebook full of ideas at him.\n\n\"Kira, Kira, Kira. When will you learn? Term papers are to be completed during the last week of the term, not two months before it's over.\" He opened her notebook and skimmed some of her notes. \"But let me know when you decide what to do cause I will definitely steal one of these discarded theses.\"\n\nKira grabbed her research back from him quickly. \"We'll see,\" she said slyly, making a joke but knowing full well she would help him out if he actually needed it.\n\n\"Hi y'all.\" Emma waved while Dave carried both of their lunch trays over. Kira assumed the fuchsia dress Emma wore was new, and that Dave had been forced to play the chivalrous boyfriend. From the back of the cafeteria, Kira could barely see Miles walking over behind the mound of books he held in his arms. In fact, all that she saw were the black rims of his glasses pressed against his forehead.\n\n\"How are you guys just sitting and laughing?\" he said when he dropped what looked like twenty pounds worth of library books on the table. \"Are you not at all worried about college?\" Kira had noticed the fear of not getting into Harvard or another Ivy League school had made Miles go a tad insane.\n\n\"Relax, man,\" Dave chimed in before slapping Miles on the back.\n\n\"Yeah, seriously. Go buy some lunch and take a minute to chill out. The books will be here when you get back.\" Luke pushed Miles toward the lunch line. As soon as he was out of hearing distance, Luke turned to everyone else and said, \"We should totally hide these.\"\n\n\"Oh lord, leave him alone.\" Kira put her arms around the books and protectively pulled them over toward her, Emma, and Dave. Basically, as far from Luke as they could go. When Miles returned, he seemed calmer but still turned the conversation to college applications. Kira knew all of that was irrelevant for her and couldn't help but let her eyes shift to gaze out the window. For the first time in a while, not a single one of the misfits was looking at her. In fact, Kira studied them for a few minutes and they seemed completely disinterested in everything going on inside of the school. She needed to grab Tristan when he was alone to confront him about what had happened and give him back his drawings, but how to get him away from his friends?\n\n\"Earth to Kira. Come in, Kira.\" Luke waved his hand in front of her face. She snapped out of her thoughts and rejoined the conversation.\n\n\"What? Sorry, I've had a lot going on.\"\n\n\"Just asked what you would be up to next year.\"\n\n\"Oh, a gap year to work in a restaurant hopefully, then I'll be applying to culinary school, and I'll be just as crazy as Miles is now.\" Miles finally cracked a smile at her statement and they continued lunch with ease.\n\nAs she walked to English with Luke, Kira knew this would be her only chance to catch Tristan alone. But at the same time Mr. Bell walked through the door, Tristan came rushing in and sat down on the opposite side of the room. And when the class was over, Tristan ran out before Kira could even begin to stand and walk over to him.\n\nFor the next two days, the same thing happened. Kira was always one step behind and couldn't trap Tristan alone for the two minutes she needed to get her point across.\n\nOn Wednesday, after her third try at chasing him down, Kira pulled Emma aside at the end of the day and sat down with her on one of the benches outside of the school.\n\n\"So, I need to get some advice. Can I give you the short version of my weekend?\" Kira asked once they'd settled.\n\n\"Ooh, this sounds juicy,\" Emma said, and Kira noticed that she seemed very excited for some gossip to live vicariously through.\n\n\"Okay, well, on Saturday I went to Charleston to start working on my history paper, just like I told you all in the cafeteria. What I didn't mention was that I ran into Tristan. We snuck into a church steeple and ended up making out for a while.\" Kira finished quickly and let out the breath she had been holding. She peered at Emma carefully, hoping to see no judgment coming from her friend's eyes.\n\n\"Whoa, I was not expecting that. Way to go, Kira.\" Emma put her hand out for a discreet low-five, and Kira happily slapped her hand down. \"Now back up, give me a little more detail, and tell me what the heck the problem is.\"\n\n\"I basically ran into him early in the day, and then he said he would be my tour guide and show me all the Charleston hot spots. We ended up having a great time, and Tristan told me he wanted to show me his favorite place in the city, which happened to be the top of a church steeple, so we snuck up. We ended up talking, which turned into fighting, and fighting turned into kissing, and kissing turned into Tristan freaking out, running away and abandoning me in the church.\"\n\nKira sighed and thought about how much to reveal about why Tristan ran away. She could tell Emma was trying to wait patiently, but her foot tapped against the sidewalk with enthusiasm at the new turn of events.\n\n\"I'm not completely sure why he left,\" Kira continued, \"but I think it has something to do with his friends. And now at school he's avoiding me. I know I need to catch him alone, which is where you come in.\" She looked at Emma hopefully, needing a plan—and fast.\n\n\"And the only class you have together is English, right?\" Emma asked.\n\nKira nodded.\n\n\"With Luke?\"\n\nKira nodded again.\n\nEmma chewed her lip. \"I'm going to need to do some thinking for a minute, a little scheming time.\"\n\nNow it was Kira's turn to try to wait patiently while Emma sat with a furrowed brow and her chin resting on her hand. Kira looked out at the school parking lot, which had completely emptied during their conversation, and she was grateful to not have to worry about eavesdroppers. The last thing she needed was to be the talk of the school and to let her secret afternoon become public knowledge. Kira ran her sweaty palms down the length of her pants, trying to calm herself.\n\n\"I have it.\" Emma's entire face brightened as she turned to Kira with a gleam in her eye. Kira was instantly overjoyed to have Emma on her side, especially when she looked so mischievous. \"Today, in my English class, we got into groups of two to read lines from _Romeo and Juliet_ , something about how hearing it gives it more meaning or whatever. Anyway, you'll only have about five or so minutes, but if you can trap Tristan and force him to be your partner it might give you the time you need.\"\n\n\"Emma, you're a genius!\" Kira grabbed the girl's shoulders, shaking them with glee. \"I totally forgot when Mr. Bell made that announcement at the end of class.\"\n\n\"Too distracted by your lover?\" Emma asked with a teasing grin. Kira tried to laugh it off, but the caught-in-the-act look was all over her face. \"Seriously though, I need some details. Was he a good kisser?\"\n\nKira had a quick flashback to being backed up against the wall in his arms. \"Yes,\" she said while biting her lip to keep from smiling too widely.\n\n\"Can I get some more details on that please? A little play-by-play maybe? I can promise you, every girl in the school wishes she was in my shoes right now, well more likely yours, but still.\"\n\nKira laughed and started giving up some of the more intimate details about the romance of the location and how they were yelling one moment then caught up in it the next. Emma hung on her every word and sighed romantically at the appropriate moments. It was the perfect ten minutes to Kira, who had been thinking too many deep thoughts recently. She just wished she had thought to supply some chocolate or peanut butter. One thing was certain though, next time she needed to watch romantic movies like _The Notebook_ , Emma would definitely be the one to call. She needed another person besides her mother who could appreciate the \"I want to cry because this is so heartbreakingly romantic\" sort of movie.\n\nEventually, Kira drove away from the school and found her way back home, just in time to make dinner. She sat her little sister on the counter as she prepared the chicken picatta and heard all about Chloe's day with her imaginary friend Beth. Sometimes Kira wished she was still in those days of make-believe, but despite how nerve-racking the past few weeks had been, she knew she was on the verge of figuring it all out. She just needed a bit more patience.\n\nThe next day, all Kira could think about was how to put her plan into action. She barely spoke to her friends at lunch and was silent during her walk to English with Luke. Just as they were about to turn into the classroom, she stopped moving.\n\n\"Hey, Luke?\" He turned when he heard her speak. \"I forgot something in my locker. I'll meet you inside.\"\n\nHe nodded and continued into the classroom.\n\nShe tried to walk at a normal pace, but quickly sped to her hiding spot and peered around the corner of a locker to keep a lookout on the classroom door. For a moment she was worried that Tristan would be the one to sneak up on her, but Kira soon saw Mr. Bell enter the classroom, and Tristan was close behind.\n\nAfter he disappeared inside, Kira made her way to the door, hoping that an open seat was left next to Tristan and that all of this planning wasn't for nothing. Luke sat at the front of the classroom with an open seat next to him, and Tristan was two feet from her next to the other open seat. She flashed an apologetic look at Luke and sat down, trying to look guilty at being late instead of smug at having everything go smoothly.\n\nTristan didn't glance at her, but she thought she saw his arm muscles tighten in anger when she sat down a few inches from him. Kira tried to act innocent and pulled out some paper to jot down notes during the first half of class. Really, she was losing all of her patience waiting for Mr. Bell to end the lecture and start with the acting lessons. If he didn't do it soon, she knew her chance to trap Tristan for a few minutes would be lost. She couldn't really pull the \"I left something in my locker\" act again. Kira knew Luke would be suspicious.\n\nFinally, Mr. Bell walked down the aisles assigning pairs, and Kira let out a silent breath of relief when she and Tristan were paired together.\n\n\"Okay, everyone, now that we've finished reading the play, I want you all to practice reading Shakespeare out loud. He was a playwright after all, his words were meant to be spoken. I think the balcony scene will do since I paired you all in coed groups. You are all hormonal teenagers, right?\"\n\nThe class responded with a laugh, and everyone opened their books to act 2, scene 2. Tristan turned to Kira with what she could only call a pained expression and tried his best to read some of the most romantic lines ever written in a completely melancholic voice.\n\n\"'But soft what light through yonder window breaks. It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she.'\"\n\nKira couldn't help but laugh at him as he speedily grumbled out the lines without even an ounce of passion. \"You know this is supposed to be a love scene, right?\"\n\nHe looked up at her with contempt while she tried to swallow her smile. \"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed.\"\n\nHe looked back down at the page and continued to read aloud in his monotone voice, totally ignoring her, which just prompted her to continue.\n\n\"Look, Tristan, there's no point hiding the fact that you like me, from me I mean. I flipped through your notebook again after I saw that you'd left it behind. I saw the drawings you made of me.\" He looked up at her then, and Kira handed his small moleskin back to him, happy to at least have that out of the way. For some reason, she thought he was looking at her like she was an unruly child who wouldn't follow instructions. Where he got that from, she had no idea, but he continued with his speech so she continued talking over him.\n\n\"They were really great, actually—pretty flattering.\" She smiled, hoping he would look at her again, but he didn't. \"Anyway, I think we should talk about what happened, not here obviously, but somewhere where we can meet in private.\" They both chose that moment to look around, and Kira saw they had the attention of both Luke and Tristan's friends. Yeah, the classroom was definitely not the right place to have this conversation, and she kind of hoped talking would lead to other things like it had last time...\n\nHe finished reading his lines. \"Hey, Juliet, it's your turn.\" He smirked.\n\n\"Oh, right.\" She looked down at her book. \"'O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art though Romeo.'\" She tried to copy his apathetic style of reading and was secretly overjoyed when he laughed at her.\n\n\"I get it, I sounded like an idiot.\" She just continued giving him the same silent treatment he had given her. \"Okay, here's the truth, Kira. We can't talk here, and we shouldn't even be talking now, or maybe ever.\"\n\n\"You told me that already.\" She stopped reading.\n\n\"Yet, you seem to have trouble understanding it. English is your first language, right?\" She rolled her eyes at the joke. \"Like I said before, we just can't ever be.\"\n\n\"I understand what you're saying, but I also know you don't mean it.\" She leaned closer to him to prevent from being overheard.\n\n\"I do,\" he said, forcing the point.\n\n\"Oh really?\" she tried to push him now. \"It didn't seem that way when you kissed me.\"\n\n\"Kira, forget that ever happened, okay?\"\n\n\"Or what? You don't scare me.\"\n\n\"I should,\" he said and shot Kira a lethal look.\n\nHis eyes changed color to the lightest blue she could imagine, and they held her captive. Not in the romantic way, but as though she were a prisoner held paralyzed. His eyes were ice cold, making her shiver as though she had been dropped in an arctic pool, and slowly his pupils began to expand, overtaking his irises.\n\nKira was scared, but more than that, she felt like he knew it and didn't care. Try as she might, she couldn't look away—completely stuck. Slowly, a feeling of warmth spread to her hands, burning hot, a sense of power that fought the fear tightening her stomach in knots.\n\nWhipping her gaze to the floor, Kira breathed heavy as she finally broke his stare. Her fingertips still tingled with the heat that had coursed through her, allowing her to break his gaze. Kira leaned back against her chair, away from him, and touched her fingers to her cheek.\n\nThey burned into her skin.\n\n\"What the hell was that?\" she asked unsteadily, still not looking up. The heat emanating from her hand absorbed all of Kira's thoughts.\n\n\"Me,\" he said with the venom gone from his voice. She looked at him again and caught the unbearably sad expression in his eyes before he looked away.\n\n_Or me?_ she thought, feeling the warmth finally ebb.\n\n\"Rewriting Shakespeare, are we?\" Mr. Bell walked between them, and Kira couldn't help but let a guilty look cross her face. They most certainly had not been following the assignment, but she wanted to hug Mr. Bell for breaking the silence and pausing her thoughts. \"Tristan, you seem to have a hard time following the classroom rules.\" Tristan looked at Mr. Bell defiantly, and Kira felt a little sorry that she had caused the whole thing. \"What were you and Miss Dawson talking about so passionately? It definitely was not Romeo and Juliet.\"\n\n\"Screw you,\" Tristan replied. Every student in the classroom inhaled in shock. She couldn't tell if he said it just to be defiant or to hide their conversation from his friends.\n\n\"Well, Mr. Kent.\" Tristan looked up at the use of his last name. \"Perhaps you and Miss Dawson would like to show everyone how it's done. Tomb scene. Front of the class. Now.\"\n\nKira stood and practically pulled Tristan from his seat to stop him from getting both of them punished with extra homework.\n\nAs they walked to the front of the class, he whispered to her, \"Think you can be quiet and play dead for a few minutes?\"\n\nWhen they reached the front, she turned to face him and, with his body hiding her face from the rest of the class, said defiantly, \"Think you can pretend to not enjoy kissing me for your friends?\"\n\n\"Think you can for Luke?\" He smirked and moved aside.\n\n_Damn him_ , she thought, _he always has to have the last word_.\n\n\"You can start with Romeo's monologue,\" Mr. Bell prodded, and Tristan began to read.\n\nKira listened intently for the cue that meant he would lean down to give her a quick kiss in front of the classroom. As she listened, she realized he was much better at reading than he let on. His voice was full of passion as he paused at the appropriate moments and rushed through some lines as though the words were his own. Kira lay still on the front table with closed eyes, but was sure he had captivated the entire classroom as he read Romeo's lines. And she felt herself fall for him a little bit more the longer he spoke.\n\n\"'Eyes, look your last.'\"\n\nEven through closed lids, his gaze sent a thrill down her spine.\n\n\"'Arms, take your last embrace.'\"\n\nHis body gently settled on top of her own. He seemed to speak only to her ear.\n\n\"'And lips,'\" he whispered, running his thumb along the edge of her lower lip, something the script definitely didn't call for. \"'Oh you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss, a dateless bargain to engrossing death.'\"\n\nHe lifted himself off of her to continue reading. Kira heard him utter the last few lines and recognized the swish of his clothes as he lifted his arm to swallow invisible poison.\n\n\"'Oh true apothecary, thy drugs are quick,'\" he spoke with a stalled voice. His hands fell on either side of her face and the desk creaked as he leaned slowly down. From the brush of warm air, she knew that his lips were only an inch away.\n\n\"'Thus with a kiss I die.'\"\n\nFor what seemed like a millennium, Kira lay still, waiting, until finally, in the softest kiss she could ever imagine, his lips landed on hers and remained there for a few seconds longer than they should have. Her lips curved into a smile and his did the same. Unfortunately, he then pretended to fall off the desk and die.\n\n_Shoot_ , Kira thought, listening to the engrossed silence of the class, _how the heck am I supposed to follow that?_\n\nMr. Bell spoke for the other characters, until she knew it was her time to wake. Kira opened her eyes slowly and sat up to speak her lines to the friar. She tried to look appropriately shocked when she was told of Romeo's death but heard some people snicker at her failed attempt. And just when Kira was supposed to have her own monologue, the bell thankfully rang and saved her from the embarrassing experience.\n\nKira looked down at Tristan and almost believed him dead, until he jumped up, winked at her, and fled from the classroom. Kira sat for a moment longer, trying to guess who had come out of that exchange with the upper hand, wondering if Tristan would agree to talk things over in private.\n\nMore importantly, she felt her own cheek, trying to recall the overwhelming warmth that spread from her hand to that very spot. Kira had no idea what had happened, and she didn't know who to ask for answers.\n\nWith a heavy sigh, Kira lifted herself from her seated position on the makeshift tomb and walked over to gather her things. When she left the classroom, Luke was waiting for her by the door.\n\n\"So...that was interesting,\" he said with shrugged shoulders and hands buried in his jeans pockets. Kira remained silent as they walked step for step down the hall. \"I personally thought you were captivating as Juliet. Great idea to put a hand to your chest then forehead and pretend to faint when you saw Romeo had died. Classic move.\"\n\nKira smiled and shoved him away from her for making fun. \"I'm not an actress, and I never said I was,\" she said in her defense.\n\n\"Trust me, I know.\" Luke jumped away from the shove he had already anticipated. \"Want to talk about it?\"\n\n\"What?\" She tried to hide the frown on her face, and pulled her purple sweater tighter around her torso.\n\n\"Whatever it was you and Tristan got in trouble for fighting about,\" he prodded. Kira knew it hurt Luke that she was starting to keep secrets from him—that there might be something she would rather talk to Tristan about.\n\n\"I was just thanking him for saving me in that surfboard accident. I never really got the chance before.\" Kira wanted to let Luke know the truth but knew she couldn't, no matter how much she hated to shut him out. He had been there as her friend since she walked through the doors of this school a month ago, and she really didn't want to hurt him. For a moment, Kira had thought she would tell him about Tristan, but she remembered Bethany and knew Luke would never understand. He was too emotionally involved to put himself in her shoes.\n\n\"I bet he didn't want to hear any of it.\"\n\nKira shrugged. \"Something like that.\"\n\n\"Cheer up.\" Luke put an arm around her. \"Want to skip class and buy some ice cream? I wouldn't mind playing hooky for the rest of the day.\" She smiled at the mischievous look in his eye.\n\n\"And how are we supposed to do that?\" she asked, knowing the campus security would definitely report two students ditching class.\n\n\"Follow me you must, young padawan,\" Luke said, quoting Star Wars and attempting to use a Yoda voice. He started running down the hallway, and she ran after him, knowing they were already late to class and had nothing left to lose. He stopped at the hallway intersection in front of the main exit and peered around the corner.\n\nOut of nowhere, Luke produced a straw and a small rolled up piece of paper, sending the most perfect spitball she had ever seen—well, the only spitball she had ever seen—into the head of a security guard down the hall. She covered her mouth to stop from laughing as Luke sailed another one into his head. The security guard spun around angrily, and Kira and Luke snuck into an open janitors closet. They heard the guard's heavy steps as he ran down one hall, paused and made a wrong turn down the hallway leading away from them.\n\n\"Go, go, go.\" Luke pushed her out of the closet and they ran for the door. Once they made it through the exit, Kira forced Luke to keep running, and she bit back her own laughter until they made it to the parking lot.\n\n\"Ice cream, my lady?\" Luke pretended to bow and offered his arm. Kira accepted.\n\nThey marched over to his car and sat down safely inside before erupting into a fit of laughter that only stopped when they both had tears streaming down their cheeks. Luke revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. They left the school completely behind them.\n\nKira couldn't think of a more perfect ending to the day, or of a more perfect friend for that matter. She smiled to herself, glanced at Luke when she caught him looking at her, and turned up the music to take on lead vocals.\n\nChapter Six\n\nA week later, Kira opened her locker to see a portrait of herself leaning against her textbooks. She grabbed the small paper that held a close-up of her face, with a dusting of light curls around the edges, and knew it was a message from Tristan. She turned the paper over to read the note scribbled in cursive on the back.\n\n\"Meet me in the auditorium at lunchtime.\"\n\nShe noticed he didn't even sign his name, like he knew she had been waiting for a sign from him. She, of course, had been waiting. But still, the arrogance of assuming he was the only guy who would leave her a note! Kira didn't care though, because just like in Charleston, Tristan had been the one to break the silence, which meant he really couldn't resist her either.\n\n\"What's that?\" Emma had snuck behind Kira without her noticing.\n\nKira turned, clutching at her chest. \"Good lord, you just gave me a heart attack.\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" Emma said without really meaning it as she tried to peer closer at the paper Kira had quickly stuffed inside her binder. She didn't want to share Tristan's drawing, but she would definitely tell Emma what it said.\n\n\"Let's just say our little scheme worked, and I won't be at lunch today.\" Kira tried to play it cool and not give away how excited she was.\n\n\"Ooh, scandalous. Was that a love note?\" Emma looked dreamy eyed.\n\n\"I don't know, but I'm willing to try to find out,\" Kira said before slamming her locker closed and following Emma to class where the gossip was quickly overtaken by the need to pay attention to their teacher's lecture on differential equations.\n\nWhen lunch rolled around, Kira dodged the crowd and went in the opposite direction toward the auditorium on the complete other side of the school. She arrived before Tristan and walked past the rows of chairs up toward the stage where the set for the December musical _White Christmas_ was being prepared. Her school in New York only allowed secular performances, and she did kind of like that people got into the Christmas spirit here. Of course, it was the middle of October, so really only the drama crew had reached the point of singing Christmas carols, but she could anticipate how crazy school would be right after Thanksgiving.\n\nIn the middle of the stage, a half-painted Christmas tree stood surrounded by boxes cutout like presents, but not decorated. There was a piano in the corner and a costume rack held forties style dresses and suits for the actors. Kira scrambled on stage and walked around the yards of fake pine and tinsel that already covered it.\n\n\"Mistletoe?\" Tristan called from behind. She turned in time to see him jump deftly onto the stage.\n\n\"I hadn't noticed.\" Kira tried to play it cool. Tristan pulled a strand of green plastic leaves from his pocket with a smirk. \"I knew there had to be a reason you wanted to meet here. But you'll have to catch me first.\" Kira teased and started backing away.\n\nHis smirk turned into the half-smile she loved and a little dimple sprouted on his cheek. Tristan strode confidently forward, and when he got a little closer, Kira jumped behind the fake tree to use it as a defensive wall, moving left when he did and right when he did. She laughed when his frustration grew and jumped out from behind the tree to try to leap off the stage, moving the chase into different territory. But strong arms gripped around her waist, lifted her off the ground, and swung her around in circles.\n\n\"You're mine now,\" he whispered into her ear, and Kira couldn't decide if the shiver that raced down her back was full of excitement or fear. He let her feet drop to the ground, and she turned in the circle of his arms.\n\n\"Changed your mind about that we-can-never-be nonsense?\" She smiled in victory.\n\n\"Not completely, but you are doing a great job convincing me.\" Tristan lifted the corner of his mouth again and she laid her hand on his cheek, capturing the dimple in her palm, before sliding it up into his hair, pushing his ebony bangs back so she could see his eyes better.\n\n\"You have to tell me something first,\" Kira said, pausing. Tristan nodded, looking at her with concern and she almost thought a hint of dread. Kira bit her lip, thinking about how to phrase her question. \"What happened when you looked at me before, in class I mean? I swear I couldn't move and then something happened to me that I didn't understand. And I know you know.\" She held his face still, making sure he didn't look away to hide his secrets again.\n\nTristan hesitated for a moment. His face was frozen in a grimace—the expression of someone with nowhere left to run.\n\n\"I do know.\" He sighed, and Kira thought it sounded as though a weight that had been holding him in place had suddenly been lifted free. \"There's something about me... about who, no what, I am that you need to know, and Luke will have to fill you in on the rest. I'm so tired of hiding, Kira.\" Anguish was written all over his face, and she let her hand fall to his chest, to his heart, trying to give him some comfort in what he was going to admit. \"I'm—\"\n\nA clapping sound interrupted Tristan, causing both of them to spin, searching for the source. It came from the back row of the auditorium where Diana, John, and Jerome sat with grins on their faces. When Kira and Tristan finally noticed them, the three intruders stood and strode down the aisle slowly, with complete confidence, clapping at a leisurely pace and staring only at Tristan.\n\nFear trickled down Kira's spine. She didn't understand what was going on or the more than venomous looks on his friends' faces.\n\n\"Well done, Tristan. You had even me believing that performance.\" Diana gracefully jumped on stage in one smooth motion that shocked Kira. Jerome and John stopped clapping and followed suit.\n\n\"Don't listen to a word they say, and please stay behind me,\" Tristan whispered to Kira as he turned around to face his friends. \"This isn't what it seems,\" he told his friends in a confident voice Kira hoped he wasn't faking.\n\n\"And what is it?\" Jerome's deep voice seemed to reverberate off the walls.\n\n\"I brought her here to talk and that's it.\" Tristan angled himself in front of Kira, as his friends closed in on them.\n\n\"To talk? And what, if I may ask, do you possibly have to talk about?\" Diana sneered and walked closer to Tristan, stopping barely a foot away from him. John and Jerome came up beside her, and Kira hoped she was forgotten as they continued to stare at Tristan.\n\n\"You may not ask,\" Tristan replied coldly.\n\n\"Then I demand,\" Diana hissed.\n\nTristan tensed in front of her. A few seconds of strained silence passed before he suddenly started laughing very obviously in Diana's face. Kira thought he had gone mad. Surely there was nothing funny about this situation, and she watched as his friends' faces darkened with anger.\n\n\"Demand? Diana, you get ahead of yourself. You know you can't threaten me.\" Tristan used his height to look down at her, proving his dominance.\n\n\"Maybe I can't alone, but even you can't take on three-to-one odds.\" Diana angled herself back, so she, Jerome, and John looked like one solid, impenetrable wall.\n\nJohn and Jerome shuffled their feet, getting ready to move at a seconds notice. Kira hoped it wouldn't become a fight. She had no idea Tristan's friends would react so harshly to seeing them together. For a moment, she wondered if she had done the right thing in trying to pursue him. Maybe it would have been better for him to draw her in secret and for her to move on, never knowing what could have been. But Kira knew it was too late for those thoughts.\n\nThe fight she expected didn't start. Instead, John placed his hand on Diana's shoulder. \"Perhaps we should let him explain,\" he questioned, relieving some tension.\n\nDiana nodded, not breaking her gaze. \"Can you explain, Tristan? Why are you here with this girl when we said we would kill her together or not at all? When we said we would wait and watch to see how much she knew?\"\n\n_Kill?_ Kira sucked in her breath. They thought he meant to kill her? They had all planned to kill her?\n\n\"I was greedy, I admit,\" Tristan began.\n\nKira could hardly believe her ears. He couldn't have meant to kill her. They had met here because he wanted to be with her, or that's what she'd thought at least. Kira backed up a few feet, away from him. After all, how much did she really know about Tristan? What if he had been fooling her all along, fooling her into falling for him so she would be easier to catch? But why did he even want to catch her or to maybe kill her? None of it made any sense.\n\nTristan started speaking again, and Kira tried to shut her questioning mind down to listen. \"I wanted the power for myself, and for that I apologize. Let's go and forget this happened. Let's go to a different town, one not swarming with conduits to confuse us and place us against each other.\"\n\nConduits? What were conduits and why would they try to split Tristan from his friends? And what power?\n\nKira looked at Diana and saw one very prominently raised eyebrow, displaying her doubt. The black-haired beauty didn't believe Tristan's story. But, Kira noticed, it wasn't the killing or the conduits she questioned, but Tristan's belief in his own words.\n\nFor the first time since moving to Charleston, Kira wasn't sure if she wanted all of the answers, especially to the question of Tristan's real intent. She couldn't believe the kiss had been a lie, but what if he was just a very good actor? She had heard it in his voice during class. He could play the part of Romeo extremely well so why not that of seducer?\n\n\"Tristan?\" Kira couldn't help herself, she had to ask, to know what was happening. She was scared of his friends and maybe of him too. She needed reassurance that she would be safe with him.\n\nTristan looked back at her, silently begging her to be quiet, and Kira instantly knew she had made a mistake. All eyes turned in her direction, hunger clearly written on their faces. She watched the transformation as all of their eyes, even Tristan's, turned to a crystal blue. Their pupils expanded and their top lips began to puff. It was the same look Tristan had had back in the classroom—but now Kira understood that his look was meant to keep her away, and this look was meant to kill. Fear raced through her veins. She had never felt so much like prey.\n\nTime stopped as Diana took another step closer to Tristan without taking her eyes from Kira. She leaned over and whispered in Tristan's ear while running her hand down his arm, \"If you came here to kill, by all means, take the first bite.\"\n\nTristan closed his eyes slowly, and Kira read pain there. Despite his best effort, she also saw a trace of hunger in his expression, leading her to wonder just how much control Tristan had lost, not only over his friends but also over himself.\n\nDiana, John, and Jerome all stared at Tristan, waiting for him to move toward her. They hunched over on their toes, ready to pounce, and she saw the desire for the fight in their eyes. It was a challenge, that much was obvious. It was also obvious that Tristan was losing.\n\nKira couldn't process anything fast enough—killing and biting and conduits. She felt as though she was on stage in a play but had forgotten all of her lines. She backed away because her gut told her to go, but she couldn't go far because her heart told her not to leave him. Tristan mouthed to her, and at first she didn't see what he said, but after a second time Kira made out one word.\n\nRun.\n\nThe next instant, Tristan turned and used both of his hands to shove all of his weight and strength into Diana's stomach. Kira gasped as the other girl flew through the air, landed in the seats below the stage, and stood after a second without a scratch. Diana jumped impossibly far and, in one leap, was back on the stage to face Tristan.\n\nTristan wasn't waiting for her though. Kira tried to follow his movements but could only see Jerome fly into the stage curtain and John slam into the wall, causing the brick to crack apart. By the time Diana had returned from her initial punch, only seconds had passed, but Tristan was ready and punched her again, sending Diana toward the back of the room once more.\n\nTo Kira's right, Jerome tore through the curtain and reemerged with death in his icy blue eyes. He charged Tristan, only to be picked up and shoved head first through the stage floor, creating a hole in the wood. Jerome reached his hands beside the hole and pushed his head from the floor. Instead of a bloodied mess, he emerged untouched by the landing.\n\nKira was frozen.\n\nUnable to move.\n\nUnable to look away.\n\nShe had known that Tristan had secrets, but watching him now made her realize she never should have tried to uncover them. He wasn't human, none of them could be. Vibrations rumbled through her as their bodies slammed into the walls and the ground, causing the entire auditorium to shake from its very foundations. Not wanting to attract attention, she continued to watch as Tristan stood like a titan, throwing his friends around as though they were dolls. The building started to fissure with the force. Kira saw dents where their bodies smacked, and she slowly backed away while their attentions were on each other rather than her.\n\nWhen she reached the backstage door, Kira turned her body to face away from the battle and groped for the handle. It was her only chance to get away and find Luke. Somehow, she was sure that he would understand what was happening—that this was the gruesome revelation he had been warning her about. If she didn't leave now, Kira wasn't certain she would be able to escape with her life.\n\nBut just as she slipped her hand around the door handle, a loose brick hit her in the leg, slamming her into the wall and almost knocking her unconscious. Kira fell to the ground and suddenly there was silence.\n\nAll four of the misfits stared at her. She touched her thigh, felt the warm liquid seeping from a newly formed cut in her leg, and met Tristan's eye. Now his hunger was obvious, and the sliver of his iris that was still visible began to glow blue. Kira shook her head, unable to comprehend the horror story she had just become a part of.\n\nWith Tristan still under the spell of his own wants, his friends jumped him. Jerome and John grabbed his arms, twisting them and breaking each one before pulling them securely behind his back. Kira tried to stand and run away now that she couldn't hide, but Diana got to her impossibly fast and pulled Kira's hair to stop her. Kira screamed at the pain and Tristan jolted awake, struggling to escape his friends and ignoring the pain from his crooked arms.\n\n\"Not so fast,\" Diana said into Kira's ear as she dragged her around to face the boys. Jerome and John pulled Tristan back to the stage and Diana forced Kira to face him, but Kira wouldn't meet his gaze. Diana let her go, but she knew there would be no point to even try to run.\n\n\"She's pathetic, Tristan,\" Diana spat. \"She couldn't fight. She doesn't know what she is. She couldn't even run away properly. And this is what you fancy yourself in love with?\" Diana circled around to face Kira, and Kira met her cold, almost crystal, eyes with the little courage she had left.\n\n\"Diana,\" Tristan growled.\n\n\"Shut him up,\" Diana yelled back, revealing the depth of her anger, and Kira watched as Jerome held Tristan while John ripped his shirt to gag him.\n\n\"Your faux confidence is amusing,\" Diana said and grabbed hold of Kira's chin. \"I'd rather see you beg though.\"\n\nKira remained silent.\n\nDiana slapped her across the face, and she fell to the ground holding her cheek, knowing it would bruise but trying to ignore the pain. \"Have you figured it out yet, little Kira? What we are? How you'll die?\"\n\nKira looked at Tristan. Her leg had almost stopped bleeding. She wondered if it would clear his head. Was it her or her blood that called to him? Kira looked at Diana and saw her smile. She finally noticed the two pointed teeth sticking slightly over her lip, and Kira couldn't help but wonder when monsters had become a reality.\n\nKira was amazed at her own eerie calm and acceptance of the situation. _Vampires?_ she thought, silently answering Diana. And as the word circled in her head, she knew it was true—the blood, the teeth, and the strength. But she thought of them on the beach, basking in the sunlight, thought of the humanity in Tristan's eyes when he had looked at her in the steeple, and wondered what from the stories was really true.\n\nKira looked at Diana, at the smug look on her face that already spoke of victory. If she was going to die anyway, she might as well go out with a bang, Kira decided and thought of a retort. \"You, Diana? I think you're a jealous bitch who can't take the fact that Tristan cares about a mere human more than he's ever cared about you. You're the pathetic one,\" she said calmly.\n\nPain flashed across Diana's face, but it quickly turned to anger. Kira was confident that her words had hit home, but maintained a neutral expression so she didn't give away how much the little victory meant and how scared she truly was.\n\nDiana grabbed Kira by the neck and picked her up off the floor, so her feet rested an inch in the air. Kira started choking from the lack of oxygen. \"You are nothing,\" Diana spat in Kira's face, and then set her back down on her toes.\n\nBut before Kira had settled on her feet, Diana's hand whipped forward and her fingernail sliced a long line across Kira's cheek. Diana slowly ran her finger along the cut and pulled it back so Kira could see the blood on her finger. And then she brought the blood close to her mouth, sniffing it, and a flash of longing passed over her eyes.\n\nRepulsed, Kira looked away—a mistake that gave Diana an advantage to use.\n\n\"Do you think he's different, Kira?\" Diana glanced at the blood on her finger. \"Do you think he doesn't thirst for you like I do? That he's kind and gentle? Well, he's not.\"\n\nDiana moved to the trapped Tristan, who had a look of dread on his face. She walked closer, and Tristan couldn't tear his gaze away from Kira's blood on her finger. He struggled, trying to, eventually managing to look instead at the floor.\n\nBut Diana grabbed his face with one hand to hold it steady, removed his gag, and let her finger wander up to rest on his lips. Tristan tried not to move his mouth, tried not to taste her blood. Diana rubbed her finger clean on his closed lips and waited, like she knew he wouldn't be able to resist.\n\nTristan shook from the exertion of trying not to open his mouth, of trying to resist the innate urge to lick the blood clean from his lips. Kira wanted to look away, but she needed to see this, she needed to knock her feelings for Tristan right out of her head.\n\nBefore long, Tristan eyes met Kira's with a look full of pain and guilt and self-loathing. Then he slowly opened his mouth to stick out his tongue and swallow. Kira saw pleasure flash across his features, saw the slight glow in his eyes, and knew the image would stay with her for a long time.\n\nMeanwhile, Diana clapped at her own ingenuity, like a five-year-old playing with Barbie dolls, and walked back to Kira. She slid her finger along Kira's cheek and took her own taste. Kira saw nothing but pleasure in her eyes, and that was how she still knew Tristan was different. Not guilt free or perfect or even good, but certainly not the same level of evil as Diana's cold blue eyes that showed no ounce of remorse.\n\nKira watched, helpless as Diana moved close again, and couldn't look away as Diana held her gaze like Tristan had in class. A shiver of fear pierced her heart at the thought of the family she would miss, but she knew there was no way out. Soulless glowing blue eyes looked into hers with excitement, and Kira was paralyzed and helpless to stop it. Diana didn't move closer for the kill, but instead remained still to enjoy watching Kira so powerless. A smile spread across her features, like she knew Kira didn't know enough to escape.\n\nBut then, in an almost comforting way, a surge of warmth filled her palms, just like before in the classroom. Instead of being scared at this unfamiliar feeling, Kira welcomed it. Welcomed her own power coming through, the heat funneling to her hands, and she knew she would be able to escape.\n\nKira tried to move free of the hold but still couldn't. The heat from her hands soon became too much. In Diana's unfaltering stare, Kira knew she was still in danger. For a second she wondered if maybe Tristan had let her escape in the classroom, if he had known what was happening inside of her and knew how to stop it.\n\nDiana had no such concern.\n\nKira started to feel as though she were burning from the inside out, as though her blood had turned to lava and was coursing through her body, destroying everything in its path. She started shaking. Diana mistook it for fear and laughed, but Kira barely heard the sound. She couldn't stop the vibrations racking her body. The heat was excruciating. She began to scream.\n\nTristan cried out, struggling against John and Jerome to try to save her. Kira didn't register him. The pressure in her body grew. She was a bomb, ticking, ticking, ticking. And as Diana sank down to take her deadly bite, Kira finally exploded.\n\nAll she felt was the release of the heat going away, seeping out of her. When the pain was almost gone, Kira opened her eyes to see fire streaming from her hands. Diana, John, Jerome, and Tristan were pressed against the back wall of the theater, held there by the light coming from her palms, unable to escape. Kira didn't know how to turn it off. She didn't know what was happening. Tristan's eyes filled with pain and fear, and Kira realized she was hurting him—destroying all of them. They were afraid of her. Powerless against her.\n\nKira couldn't move, could barely breathe. She just stared at her hands, unable to control anything. Different hands landed on her shoulders, shaking her, and she distantly heard someone screaming her name. But she was outside of herself, watching this scene as if it were a movie. She almost wanted Diana to feel pain and to die—she almost wanted to kill her.\n\nThat thought snapped Kira back to reality.\n\nBlinking, she realized it was Luke who was standing before her. He shook her and called her name. Somehow she knew he understood what was happening. That he was like her. Part of her was mad he had never told her, but a much more prominent part of her knew she needed his help and was overjoyed to see him.\n\n\"Kira, listen to me, you have to stop. You have to release them.\" He spoke calmly, with a commanding voice.\n\n\"How?\" she cried, not knowing how to turn it off, scaring herself.\n\n\"Just close your fists and let go of the anger.\" He tried to soothe her and ran his hands up and down her arms.\n\nKira listened to his words and attempted to let go of the fear of knowing how close she had come to death. She tried to let go of the anger at Diana for wanting to kill her, for torturing her and Tristan to do so. She tried to let go of the resentment at Tristan for giving in, for showing her that her trust in him might not have been worth it.\n\nBut most of all, Kira tried to let go of the fury with herself, for not knowing who she was, for not being more demanding, for not being able to stop, for hurting Tristan, for feeling the urge to kill. And the fear, the fear was the worst. How could she let go of the self-fear—the fear of what she was and what she might be capable of?\n\nWhen Kira admitted all of this to herself, she felt a slight release, and though it took all of her strength, she slowly brought her fingers down to curl into her palm. Kira brought her thumb around to hold the light and trap it within her hands. Tendrils of fire tried to seep through the cracks between her fingers, but Kira held steady until finally the heat died and she was able to just let it go.\n\nShe looked at the back wall where Diana, John, and Jerome jumped from the crevices they had been pressed into and ran from the room. Tristan dropped slowly down and gave her one more glance. In that instant, she realized he was right—they could never be. He looked at her one last time, with sadness and with fear, and followed his friends out the door.\n\nKira knew he was different—she could see the humanity in his eyes where it was absent from his friends—but that wasn't enough to make her chase after him.\n\nInstead, she looked at Luke—at his familiar eyes, friendly demeanor, and look of concern—and collapsed into his open arms as tears began to fall from her eyes.\n\nChapter Seven\n\nKira stared out at the churning waves, barely registering the body heat coming from Luke's arm around her shoulder. He had held her while she cried and after a long time of sobbing, he had brought her to the Folly Beach Pier to let the rhythm of the water calm her.\n\nThey hadn't spoken more than five words to each other since he carried her from the auditorium, because Kira simply didn't know what to say. How could she ask if vampires were real and if what seemed like live fire just shot from her hands? How could she admit that she clearly wasn't human let alone ask someone else to believe it? Most of all, how could she confess that she had started falling for the one guy her best friend told her not to and that everything he feared had come true?\n\nIt wasn't easy to admit how naïve she had been and to admit she was wrong about everything. It wasn't easy for her to think of Tristan, his eyes in pleasure at the taste of her blood or his eyes in pain as her power slowly started killing him. It was worse still to think of herself and what she was. Kira couldn't ignore it, but how in the world could she face it?\n\n_How do you face it?_ she thought, and then answered herself. _You just do_.\n\n\"Luke?\" She turned to him. Luke didn't move. He just watched and waited to see what she would say. It was like he knew her perfectly, knew what was coming but also knew that Kira needed to hear herself say it before it could be true. \"Luke...what am I?\"\n\n\"A girl,\" he replied, half-jokingly and half-reassuringly. She nudged him with her shoulder.\n\n\"Seriously, no jokes,\" she said.\n\nHe lifted his eyebrows in response as if to say \"who, me?\" but then realized even his jokes wouldn't adjust Kira's frown. Kira could tell the instant his mood changed from protector to informer. She knew from the furrow of his brows that the jokes meant to cheer her would be exchanged for serious talk that she wasn't used to from him. Kira's mood dropped further when he lifted his arm from around her back and turned toward her on the bench to see her face. He knew everything, and it was his duty to tell her.\n\n\"First, do you know what Tristan and the others are?\" She nodded yes. \"Tell me, Kira.\"\n\nShe breathed deeply, knowing the minute she said it out loud the scene haunting her thoughts would come true. The supernatural strength and speed. The blood and the teeth. It would all be real.\n\n\"Vampires,\" she whispered, words almost stolen by the wind, but Luke heard her.\n\n\"Good. Can you guess what we are?\"\n\nKira looked at him, thankful he had told her what she had already guessed—that they were the same, that she wasn't alone. But still, she had no idea what that was and looked at him with blank eyes.\n\n\"Kira, we're something called conduits, protectors if you will. We're the only living things that can hunt vampires, and I say living because we mostly believe that vampires are dead, but they frequently kill each other.\" She thought back to when Tristan had mentioned conduits—maybe he had been sending her a message, trying to help her.\n\nThe entire thing sounded crazy. She was some sort of vampire slayer? But it was the only explanation she had for what had just happened.\n\n\"So, we're...conduits.\" Kira forced the words through her lips. Luke smiled, as though happy she had accepted the name without a fight. \"To be a conduit of something, you have to like channel something, right? That was the light I'm guessing, but I just don't understand.\"\n\nHe took her hands and flipped her palms up, so she could see the pale red burn marks they now held. \"We channel the sun, and I know it sounds crazy, but that was the light you sent through your arms. It hurts at first, but it'll get better.\"\n\n\"The sun? That's not possible,\" Kira said, shaking her head. She thought back to the feeling of lava running in her veins and the light that looked almost like fire shooting from her hands. Could she even say anything was impossible anymore? \"But how? Why?\" she asked.\n\n\"I'll get to that later, first—\"\n\n\"No, tell me now. It's been long enough,\" she yelled at him. \"Why didn't you tell me before? Why didn't you warn me? A little 'stay away from Tristan or you'll turn into a human light bulb', if I even am human. I thought you were my best friend. I was so scared. I could have died not even knowing that I could save myself. Damn it, Luke. Why didn't you say anything?\" She started crying again, now out of frustration.\n\n\"You wouldn't have died. Even though you didn't know in your head how to save yourself, your body knew danger and reacted. Besides, I wasn't allowed to, and before you open your mouth again, listen to me for ten minutes.\" He reached out to cover her open mouth with his finger. \"You know how I said I was from a small town in Florida, called Sonnyville?\" Kira nodded. \"Well, it's not just a small town. It's a haven for conduits, so we can grow up together and practice without normal people around and without vampires to snatch us when we're little.\"\n\n\"Why wasn't I there?\" Kira asked. Why hadn't she grown up knowing who she was?\n\n\"Because you're different, and I was sent here to watch and protect you.\"\n\n\"Sent here? Like forced to be my friend. Is anything in my life real?\" She ended quietly, asking more for herself than for Luke.\n\n\"Yes, our friendship is real. I was supposed to watch from afar. But I'm getting ahead of the story. To explain what we are, I have to go back to the beginning, to the stories you were supposed to learn when you were just a kid.\" Kira nodded, signaling she would keep quiet until he finished.\n\n\"Ever since humans have been around, vampires have been too. Do you remember on the beach, how they were in the sun?\" Kira nodded. \"The stories were wrong, just being in the sun doesn't really kill a vampire. They are stronger than anything else in the world, and faster too. Their skin won't break open unless at the hands of another vampire, which is why there are so few ways to kill them. They do live off of blood and only human blood will do. But other than that, we don't know very much because they are incredibly hard to trap and study. All we really do know is that the sunlight is lethal, just not from the distance with which it shines.\"\n\n\"But I thought—\"\n\nHe interrupted. \"I know, I just said the sun won't kill them, not like how it is in the movies with spontaneous combustion and dust and Hollywood effects. The sun slowly kills a vampire every time one is exposed, but the length of a year is like the length of a second to a vampire. So, it would take thousands and thousands of years for the sun's toll to have any effect. That's where we come along. When we channel the sunlight, it shortens the distance and makes the aging happen faster, so within minutes we can kill or harm a vamp. Are you understanding this at all?\"\n\n\"I think so.\" Kira shrugged. She was a superhuman conduit of sunlight—a protector against vampires that would otherwise be unstoppable. In a weird way, she thought it almost made sense. The sunlight had always warmed her, not only physically, but also mentally, like she had a special tie to it. And there was no other explanation she could imagine to describe what had happened before. It was comforting to know she wasn't a monster but a savior. \"But Luke, I don't understand how I'm different. Why I wasn't raised with you.\"\n\n\"Just have a little more patience, I promise I'm almost there.\"\n\nKira swallowed her next words to let him continue and looked back out toward the ocean. The constant churn of the waves, the monotonous pushing and receding of the water, helped her maintain a sense of calm, something she figured she would need as he went on.\n\n\"Amongst ourselves, there is debate about how vampires, and therefore ourselves in response to vampires, evolved. Many believe vampires were sent by Satan after his fall from heaven to take over God's creations on earth. They think that we were God's response—that we are heavenly avengers meant to kill the evil and rid the earth of them. They call themselves Punishers. Many others think vampires evolved like parasites, a virus that needs a host and changes the human body for its own survival. They think there is something human, something redeemable within the creature, and therefore swear not to kill, but only to harm a vampire if it attacks a human. These conduits believe they naturally evolved as nature's response to the parasite and call themselves the Protectors.\n\n\"This debate, this question of purpose, has been around as long as history can remember. It caused a huge split in the conduits, and separate species, if you will, formed because of it. Punishers practiced only killing and sprouted red hair that myth says is a sign of their inner anger. Eventually, they lost the ability to use the light only in defense and became killing machines. Protectors practiced only defensive tactics and developed almost white hair, as a reflection of the purity they see deep within a vampire's soul. They lost the ability to kill.\"\n\n\"And you're a Protector?\" Kira asked, trying to follow along and knowing that Luke's blonde hair marked him as such. He nodded. \"But I'm...neither?\" She still didn't understand, thinking of her own strawberry blonde tresses. She didn't fit either category.\n\n\"Never in the history of both our people have the Punishers and Protectors been able to have children. It's been forbidden, because there is something else I haven't mentioned yet. Vampires can become immune to us.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. I thought we were some super race created to stop them.\" Kira gripped the pier's wooden railing as dread formed in the back of her mind. She was different somehow, and it couldn't be good.\n\n\"In a way, but then we would be all powerful over them. There's always a catch, and it's another reason the two races split. If a vampire drinks the blood of a conduit, he or she becomes immune until the blood leaves their system, which varies depending on the amount taken. If a vampire drinks a Punisher, he becomes immune to their killing light and could theoretically move from Punisher to Punisher, killing each and becoming stronger with each kill. It's too dangerous to even imagine. So, when the debate began, the sides decided to split—not only to harvest different powers, but to make sure no vampire could become immune to both powers at the same time, which would mean he or she could wipe out both races. If a Protector gets caught, Punishers must be able to kill the vampire responsible. And if a Punisher gets caught, Protectors need to trap the vampire until the blood leaves his system. Otherwise, vampires could become unstoppable. It would be chaos—\"\n\n\"Which is where I come in?\" She interrupted. Luke's look told her she had guessed right, and Kira tried to figure out what she was. \"I'm a child of both races? I can aim to kill or to harm?\"\n\nLuke nodded.\n\n\"And I'm forbidden to exist?\"\n\nLuke nodded again.\n\n\"I could mean the end of the world?\"\n\nLuke looked away from her this time, and tears formed in her eyes again.\n\n\"Am I evil...like them?\"\n\n\"No, god no, Kira.\" Luke pulled her in to his arms, so she was smushed against his chest, and they sat for a while as she tried to absorb all of this new information. She was a thing of good but could also mean the end of the world. So why had they even let her live? Why hadn't they forced her mom to have an abortion as soon as they found out? Kira thought of her mother and father—they didn't seem like rule breakers. Her mother's sweet red hair, her father's rather dull brown—\n\n_Brown?_ She thought. Had he dyed it? But her sister's hair was brown too. Was he not really her father?\n\n\"Luke? Do you know about my parents?\" She looked up from the spot on his chest she had been crying into.\n\n\"Are you sure you want to hear everything right now?\" He looked down at her with concern, and Kira tried to swallow the choke in her throat. The fact that he hadn't said no meant she had been on the right track. Her whole life was changing in one afternoon—was she ready for more?\n\n\"Yes, I have to.\" Kira nodded into his wet T-shirt.\n\n\"I'm so sorry I have to be the one, but, Kira, well, the person you think is your mother is really your aunt by blood, and the man you think is your father is really your uncle.\"\n\nShe looked at him with blank eyes, empty inside. Her entire life had been a lie. She felt as though reality were sand slipping through her hands, like someone had played an evil trick and was suddenly showing all of his cards before the game was over. Kira moved away from Luke, to the other side of the bench and hugged her knees to her chest. She tried to let her tears fall as silently as possible, knowing she couldn't tune Luke out even if she wanted to.\n\nKira looked over at him before he continued, saw the hurt in his eyes for her—his eyes that were so like her own, a hint of green engulfed by yellow and orange swirls flecked with red. He was good, unquestionably. Though, she had always known that. The twinkle in his eye when he made someone laugh was enough to show that he only cared about spreading joy, and he had only ever been a best friend to her. Even if everything was changing, she knew she would have him to rely on. She nodded to him to keep talking.\n\n\"Your real mom was one of my people, a Protector, and your father was a Punisher. They secretly fell in love and ran away together when they were found out. Your mother had you in secret and when you were discovered, your father's people wanted to kill you for being an abomination, but mine took pity because you were innocent, and we promised to watch over you. Your aunt, as your only blood relative, watched over you when you were young, but when you moved to New York, we set up parameters and guardians. When you were fifteen, you started sneaking out with friends and becoming reckless, so we had to send someone in...\"\n\n\"Cy? My first boyfriend?\" She guessed, remembering how she had thought Luke looked like him the first day of school. She thought of how Cy had been overprotective and always called her. It hadn't been for love at all. For all she knew he never even liked her. Her first kiss was a complete sham. It stung more than Kira realized it would. \"And then I moved here, somewhere where vampires went to my school and my mother, sorry, my aunt couldn't watch me all the time, and you...\"\n\nLuke nodded.\n\nShe couldn't talk about her family anymore, not with Luke, not as though her life were some textbook story he had had to study and memorize. \"I need a break, I can't do this anymore right now. I'll talk to my...aunt later. It's just too much.\"\n\nKira looked at Luke, really looked at his features, and wondered if her mother would have looked like him. Did her real mother have the same sun-bleached hair and fiery eyes? The same warm compassion? Was she alive or dead? Mostly, what Kira wanted to know was why neither of her parents had ever come looking for her. If her father was a Punisher, was he only full of anger or did he love too? Did either of them love Kira, or was she just a mistake that never should have been allowed to survive?\n\nKira stood and walked to the pier's railing. Her mind was more tumultuous than the waters below her. She almost felt that if she jumped in right now, it would calm her to be pushed around a bit, that it would show her that the world continued on despite the madness in her brain. But those thoughts just made her think of Tristan, who wouldn't be there to save her if she got overpowered by the ocean again. Kira couldn't think of him yet. It was too much to think that the boy you had maybe started to love was really evil. Not just a bad boy, but actually a monster.\n\n\"I wanted to tell you,\" Luke said from behind her, and she was happy to have him interrupt her thoughts. \"A thousand times I wanted to tell you, but I took an oath. You had to discover your powers on your own. I wasn't allowed to tell you about anything in case the mix of Punisher and Protector canceled each other out and left you just a normal human girl. When I saw your eyes, I knew it couldn't be true. I knew you weren't a dud, and that you were incredibly strong. But still, I had to be idle. I know I may joke a lot and break some of the school rules, but there are some rules I know I can't test.\"\n\n\"I wish you had,\" she said, speaking to the ocean because she couldn't turn and look him in the face.\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"But I understand why you didn't.\" Kira still spoke to the wind. Knowing his intentions helped, but she still couldn't get rid of the small sting of betrayal.\n\n\"Really?\"\n\nShe heard the creek of wooden planks as Luke stood up from the bench and moved right behind her, like he needed to be closer to Kira to believe she really meant her words.\n\n\"I know you and I know you're good. You hoped there was a chance I wasn't supposed to be in this world where vampires and conduits exist, and that there was a chance you wouldn't have to be the one to turn my reality upside down.\"\n\n\"Can you forgive me?\" Luke reached to put his hand over the one she had rested on the rail. Kira tried to smile, but couldn't. Instead, she squeezed his hand in her own, trusting he would understand what it meant, and finally met his sad, puppy-dog eyes. Luke pulled her into his chest for another hug. \"I'm still your best friend even if everything else has changed. I promise, that was never contrived.\"\n\nShe nodded against his body, not wanting to move from his comforting embrace. He was telling her the truth, and Kira knew she needed him. She needed someone she could trust completely and someone who could help her survive whatever journey her life had just turned into.\n\n\"Can we leave the Tristan talk for another time? I know you're curious, but I just can't.\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Luke, I can't go home yet. I can't face it. When I see my parents, it'll all become real. When I look at their faces for the first time and don't see a family resemblance...\" Kira cut off, trying to choke back the sob that had risen in her throat.\n\n\"Come on.\" He tugged on her hand, pulling her from the rail back toward the beach. \"Let's grab some ice cream. You can stay on my couch for the night.\"\n\n\"Your parents won't mind?\"\n\n\"Kira...I'm your guardian. I'm twenty, and I live alone. I'm only pretending to be in high school.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" She shut up. One more surprise might send her over the edge. There was only so much a girl could endure before the fake calmness wore off and all the feelings she had pushed down bubbled back up to the surface.\n\nThey walked down the boardwalk holding hands, and Kira relished the contact. She thought it darkly humorous that passersby might think they were sweethearts. How many people had she walked past who were secretly watching her and guarding her? She bet she had passed vampires before and had never looked twice, never even dreamed something like this could be true.\n\nLuke bought them two ice cream cones, and Kira listened as he spoke of trivial things like Miles' school craze and class assignments. She knew he was just providing background noise, that he knew she was lost in her own thoughts. He didn't try to intrude. He just tried to give her some semblance of normal, to maybe make her laugh. Kira wondered when she would laugh again as she remained stone faced at Luke's attempts.\n\nWhen they finished, Luke steered Kira around to his car and drove her to his house. It was small, and he explained that it had been given to him when he moved here to start watching over her. She wondered if he was getting paid and how much of a job this was for him. Was it a normal thing for a conduit to have to do? To act like a babysitter? Or did they all stay in their safe havens, not even trying to go out and search for people to help?\n\nShe knew nothing about her culture or her own people. It was an odd feeling to have barely any idea where she came from. Her mother had always told her she had an Irish heritage, and when she was little, Kira used to spend hours reading about the druids and old Irish folklore. She liked having a sense of history, and it was important to her to be able to connect to the past. But now, she was part of this ancient secret society she knew almost nothing about.\n\nMost of all, Kira wondered about her parents, her real parents. She wondered who they were and why her aunt had to raise her. The mystery of her sister was easy to explain now. Kira almost laughed to herself. Ever since her sister had been born, she had asked whom the mistake had been. Clearly, Kira was the misfit. It was almost comforting to have one question answered, but the answer left her feeling empty. A mistake? The word rolled around in her head, knocking everything out of place. Not only her parents' mistake, her life itself was also a mistake, one that could end the world as she knew it if more vampires found out.\n\nLuke left her in the living room to go find some blankets for the pull-out she would be sleeping on. When he came back, he unfolded the couch and made it into a bed for her. He fluffed the pillow and pretended to be a bellhop showing her around a hotel suite, but went to get her water when she never cracked a smile.\n\nKira's cell phone rang while Luke was in the kitchen. The caller ID said it was home, her mother she assumed, but she let it go to voicemail. When she closed her phone, she saw the edge of the burn mark on her hand. She let her cell fall onto the couch so she could peer at the spot more closely. Her hands looked like they had little starbursts on them, like she had put a red paintball between her palms and pressed together to make it explode. She ran her finger along the edge and felt the raised line of the burn. It didn't sting at all. She hadn't even noticed her hands until Luke had mentioned the marks to her on the pier.\n\n\"It'll go away,\" Luke said when he walked back inside and saw her staring. He gave Kira the glass of water. \"The burns I mean. After a while they'll go away and each time you use your power, they'll show up less and less.\"\n\nKira clenched her fists and looked away. She didn't want to think about using her power again.\n\n\"Kira, we're not evil. It's a gift not a curse.\" She rolled her eyes and grabbed for the water, taking it from Luke's hand. \"I'm going to show you something, something I used to do as a kid when I couldn't fall asleep.\" He left the room and returned after a few minutes with a six-inch disco ball in his hand.\n\nKira finally laughed. \"You danced disco when you couldn't sleep?\"\n\n\"Hey, I'll have you know I do a mean rendition of the _Saturday Night Fever_ dance, thank you very much.\" He laughed with her and she felt almost happy again. But the moment passed.\n\n\"Okay, Kira, I know you. I know you're afraid of yourself right now, of what I've told you, but it can be a beautiful thing. When I was little, my mom always told me how I would grow up to help save people's lives. And I'd sit in my bed at night, so angry that I was just a kid and couldn't go out on adventures yet. So when I couldn't sleep, I would practice my skills, just hoping and waiting for the day when I would be good enough to leave Sonnyville for the real world. But right before I went to bed, I would take out my disco ball—stop laughing—I would take out this totally awesome and not at all embarrassing or funny disco ball I stole from my older sister and do this.\"\n\nKira smothered her giggle as Luke lifted the string attached to the disco ball and held it in front of them. With his other hand he spun the ball then shot a small, completely controlled sliver of light from his hand. As soon as the beam struck the disco ball, circles like moving diamonds twinkled and spun around the dark room. She looked around, feeling more like she was in a planetarium than a living room, and was awed by the scene. He let the light die out and gave her the disco ball.\n\n\"When you're ready, we'll start practicing your gift. And when you feel comfortable, pull this from your drawer and give it a try.\" He stood from the couch and looked back at her before he walked to his room. \"Goodnight, Kira.\"\n\n\"Night, Luke,\" she said as he disappeared around the corner. She let the silver globe fall into her lap and kept an eye on the spot Luke had just vacated. Why, she asked herself, couldn't she have fallen for him instead? Luke was perfect. He was funny and charming, and someone she could tell everything to, but still she thought of him as a brother. He could spill light from his own hand but still couldn't spark anything within her.\n\nSomething was wrong with her, Kira decided, since she was some sort of mixed breed freak. Her heart just didn't work the right way. Maybe she was only attracted to other misfits, which was exactly what Tristan was after all. He was a vampire who seemed to want to be human. _You can't get more out of place than that_ , she thought.\n\nKira sighed and lay down on the sofa, curling under the blankets Luke had set out for her. As she rolled up into a fetal position, Kira wished that when she woke up tomorrow it would all be a dream.\n\nBut maybe that, she realized, was just too impossible to ask for.\n\nChapter Eight\n\nThe next morning when Kira woke up on Luke's couch, drool dribbled down her cheek and her head pounded from a headache.\n\n_Yeah_ , she thought, _yesterday really happened_.\n\nThe scent of coffee drifted in from the kitchen and she dragged herself from the warmth of the covers to face her new life. Today, she had to talk to her mother. Kira had to learn about her real parents and about her history. There was no turning back and there never would be. All she could do was rise to the challenge.\n\n\"I guess we can add skipping school to the list of badass things you've done,\" Luke said, as he entered the living room. \"It's right up there with taking on four vamps all by yourself.\" She tried to smile and took the cup he handed to her.\n\n\"Advil?\" she asked. He nodded and returned a few minutes later with two maroon pills in his hand.\n\n\"Headache?\" She nodded. \"How are you feeling otherwise?\"\n\n\"A little shocked and awed, a little scared out of my mind, and just a little like myself.\" Kira took another sip and felt a rush of warmth spread through her body in a completely natural sort of way. It was refreshing. \"So what happens now, Luke?\"\n\n\"I take you home and you talk with your mom.\"\n\n\"You mean my aunt.\"\n\n\"No, I mean your mom. Whether she gave birth to you or not is irrelevant. She still raised you, and she's still your mom.\" Kira nodded slightly at his words, hoping she would eventually feel the same way and not just betrayed.\n\n\"I meant more along the lines of, I've accepted this whole supernatural world business and I've accepted whatever birthright I have, so what happens now?\"\n\n\"I'm supposed to train you and teach you, but we can worry about that later. Now, let's watch the new episode of _Top Chef_ I have saved on my DVR. You observe the food, and I'll observe Padma Lakshmi.\"\n\n\"Sometimes I worry about you,\" Kira said as she rolled over to lean her head on his shoulder. It was her favorite show and she relished in the normalness of it.\n\nFor the next hour, Luke made inappropriate comments about the host and Kira unsuccessfully tried to turn his attention to the food and the art of being a chef. They sipped coffee and attempted to enjoy the peace. But Kira heart constricted when Padma resolutely said, \"Please pack your knives and go.\" The words sounded more like a death sentence to Kira, who knew she needed to pack up and go as well. Her parents would be furious with her and had probably been calling her nonstop. _Thank god for the ability to turn a cell on silent_ , Kira thought.\n\nShe helped Luke put the pull-out couch away and folded the sheets she had used. Then Kira helped drop the dusty brown cushions back in their place, carried the dirty dishes into his tiny old-fashioned kitchen with hideous blue cabinetry, and finally grabbed her handbag to follow him out the door.\n\n\"Luke?\" she asked after a while of driving in silence. He looked over in her direction to show she had gained his attention. \"Thanks for everything. For letting me spend the night, for coming to stop me when I couldn't stop myself, and for doing the hard thing by telling me the truth.\" He reached over and squeezed her hand. \"Do you think we could do something fun and normal tomorrow? It will be Saturday,\" she asked when they pulled up in front of her house.\n\n\"I'll rally the troops and surprise you. Now, good luck. Call me if you need me later.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" she said as she pushed the car door open and slid out.\n\nLuke drove away, leaving her alone in front of her home. It had never seemed as daunting as it did then. The car was in the driveway, meaning her mother had skipped out on work. The real question in Kira's mind was, _is she angry or worried? Will I open the door to screaming and yelling, or hugs and kisses?_ If Kira knew her mother, the wrath of God was about to fall upon her.\n\nHesitantly, Kira lifted her foot, let it hover above the ground for a moment, and then placed it in front of her to begin the long walk to her front door. She had decided this morning to rise to the occasion, and Kira had a feeling this conversation would be the toughest part.\n\nThe front door opened before she even had time to take her key out of her handbag.\n\n\"Where have you been?\" her mother shouted and pulled her inside by the arm. \"Your father and I have been worried sick. We were up all night. I must have called you a hundred times, but did you call us back? No! Of course not. Why bother to calm the woman who has raised you since birth and thought you dead in a ditch by the side of the road?\"\n\nKira fought the urge to scream back and allowed her mother to vent her frustration. It almost felt normal, and in some weird way, the fight comforted rather than hurt Kira. But all she kept thinking was, _how dare you yell at me_ _—_ _you lied to me, for my whole life you lied to me. Who are you? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you protect me?_\n\nKira let out a slow breath and tried to rein in her anger. She needed answers, and she had a feeling that she would need family. Eventually, they could be her true family again.\n\n\"Do you have anything to say for yourself?\" Her mother panted when she had finished ranting.\n\n\"I almost died,\" Kira said softly. She wasn't sure how to talk to her mother about this without sounding accusatory, and she figured remaining calm would be the best decision. \"Vampires almost killed me.\" The words came out with a trace of bitterness that Kira couldn't fight, but she couldn't hide all her feelings.\n\nShe almost wanted to cry and fall into her mother's arms, but she held back and watched as her mother's hand rose to catch the gasp leaving her mouth. Kira observed as her mom backed up into the couch and, like an afterthought, fell into a seated position.\n\n\"Oh god, oh god,\" her mother repeated until Kira came to sit down next to her. \"Where was Luke? I never imagined you'd been in real danger.\" Kira grabbed her mother's shaking hand.\n\n\"It's okay, I saved myself...\" Kira let her words linger. Her mother stiffened and looked at Kira with eyes full of horror.\n\n\"How much do you know?\"\n\n\"Not everything, but enough. I stayed with Luke overnight because I needed some time to adjust before I came home. I wasn't sure how it would feel to look at you knowing I was just a mistake, that I'm your charge and not your daughter. Oddly enough, it feels half-normal and only half-painful.\" Kira let her fingers slip from her mother's and moved to the other end of the couch, rolling her knees into her chest.\n\nHer mother sat very still, looking straight ahead with wide eyes. \"Will you ever forgive me?\" she whispered while bowing her head into her hands.\n\n\"I hope so,\" Kira answered truthfully. She didn't know if she could ever let the pain of not knowing who she was fall away. She loved her mother, but right now, she felt as though she didn't know who her mother really was. \"Were you ever going to tell me I was adopted? That my whole life has been a lie?\"\n\n\"Oh, Kira.\" Her mother reached for her hand, but Kira moved it away, not ready to forgive her yet. \"It hasn't all been a lie. I am your mother, in every way but genetically. Your father and I love you. Your sister loves you. We've always been a family.\" A tear escaped Kira's eye then. \"If you won't forgive me right now, will you at least let me explain?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Kira let the word slip from her mouth before she could stop it. This was the point of no return. Once the story was told, everything about her heritage would be true, but in some ways she thirsted for it. She needed a history—a past to hold on to. \"You need to start with my real parents.\"\n\n\"Can we talk outside?\" her mother asked while rising from the couch. \"These are stories even your father cannot hear.\"\n\nKira nodded.\n\nShe and her mother always had important conversations outdoors. When she had wanted to go to boarding school, they had walked in a park for an hour. When she got her ears pierced, they had gone to the swing set in her old backyard. Something about the wind and the trees seemed calming—they made even the biggest arguments seem small. For the first time, Kira wondered if it was a conduit trait, that maybe something about being in the sun calmed her people. But she pushed the thought aside, not wanting to linger on any musings that made her feel at all subhuman.\n\nKira grabbed a blanket to wrap around her shoulders and quickly made instant hot chocolate to bring outside while her mother ran up the steps. She set her mother's cup on the table and nestled into the chair to wait. The air was cool on her cheek—a typical Carolina fall. The leaves of the dense forest behind her house rustled with each churning breeze, almost like waves with their cyclical splash. But here, only the scent of salt in the air reminded her that she lived on the coast.\n\nKira's mother walked outside in a sweatshirt with a box of tissues in hand. \"Kira, I don't even know where to begin. I haven't spoken of the conduits in years. Your father doesn't even know about my past. I never wanted any of us to be a part of that world.\"\n\n\"Start with my father, your brother. What was he like? You are Punishers, right?\" Kira tried to keep the crack from her voice. She thought it the logical place to start, the beginning of her father's tale before he even met her real mother. She wished she had a picture, some sort of token to remember them both by.\n\n\"Your father was amazing. He was the protective older brother, the ideal fighter, the perfect son, the dream boy, but most of all he was someone you knew without a doubt you could count on for anything in your life. He wanted to protect the entire world, to fight epic battles, and he started by helping me.\" Kira noticed that her mother's gaze had glazed over. She was staring somewhere beyond their backyard, back into her memories. \"When we were younger, he made sure none of the kids bullied me for being small and weak with my power. You see, Kira, I ran away from that world because I had no place in it. As a child, I could never truly channel the sun properly, and when my power matured at the age of sixteen, I still couldn't hurt a fly. To a Punisher that is the ultimate insult, and many of our people turned against me, but never your father. I lived at home, just waiting until I could leave and go to college and be normal. And, he accepted me.\"\n\nKira grabbed a tissue then. It seemed her mother and she had both been misfits in unfamiliar worlds, and she painted the most beautiful picture of her true father as someone fearless. Something Kira wished she had inherited some of.\n\n\"When he was eighteen, he went on his first hunt and made his first kill. He returned, boasting of how much fun he'd had and how exhilarating the fight was. He said he was the only newbie who hadn't needed help from the elders to stop his vampire. I could tell, just by looking at him, that he had found his place and that he would grow to be one of our best fighters. Conduit societies are stuck in the past in many ways. The men went out to hunt for vampires to help protect humanity, and the women remained at home protecting the children in case our location was ever found out. And the entire town knew your father would be the best of us. Every time he came back from a trip, he shined with pride, and others told the tales of his heroics. Because for us, the stronger the fighter, the more divine, and your father was seen as a heavenly angel to many of our people.\"\n\n\"But that all changed?\" Kira guessed, knowing this story had everything but a happy ending.\n\n\"Yes, that all changed. Most youths mature at sixteen and start going on guided missions, but at age twenty we are allowed to hunt alone. At first, your father acted much the same and came back with joy in his eyes. However, one day, a few weeks before he turned twenty-one, he returned solemnly. Everyone thought he had failed to catch his target for the first time. Nothing unusual for a young hunter. They all let him be. But I knew your father, and I knew something else was wrong.\"\n\n\"Did you talk to him about it?\" Kira asked. Their society was so different from everything she had grown up with. She couldn't imagine the pressure of feeling like a warrior and never being able to make mistakes. Kira looked at her mother's red curls as they blew in the breeze and wondered if she viewed them as a curse.\n\n\"I tried. I'll never forget what he told me. I had been in the kitchen washing the dinner plates when I noticed him sitting outside on the back steps, so I paused and went out to comfort him. I told him that everyone makes mistakes and everyone misses every so often, but I could tell they were just empty words. He was looking up at the stars with the deepest confusion in his eyes, and then he turned to me and asked, 'Ellie? Have you ever wondered if we were wrong?' and for a moment I didn't understand. But when he turned to look back at the night sky, I realized he meant us, the Punishers. Were we wrong in killing? Did vampires really have souls? 'Of course not,' I told him full of confidence. We were never even allowed to question those beliefs, rooted in our ancestral history for thousands of years. I saw him shut himself away when I answered. He stood up and went inside to finish the dishes, and I was the one left to ponder why he would ever ask me that.\"\n\n\"What would you reply now?\" Kira asked her mother, realizing they almost mirrored the scene from her memories, sitting on the porch, but staring at the sun rather than the stars.\n\n\"I've never seen a vampire who didn't appear evil to the core, but I suppose there are always exceptions to the rules.\" Her mother paused, and Kira thought that maybe she was wishing she had used that response with her brother, to provide some sort of solace.\n\nFor a moment, Kira allowed herself to think of Tristan. Could he be that exception? But she shook her head and tried to focus on her real father and his story. \"It was my birth mother, wasn't it? A Protector changing his mind?\"\n\nHer mother nodded. \"I didn't realize it for a long time, but in the year that followed, he went on more solo missions and came back with rebellious ideas of capturing vampires and running tests on them rather than killing them. He wanted to research the old texts to see if anyone had ever found a vampire with his soul intact. He never found anything, but the elders were still so angry with him. He was their golden boy and within a year he became dirt. I noticed he received secret letters and made whispered phone calls when he thought our family was asleep. I confronted him, but he never answered straightly. I never dreamed he was secretly dating a Protector. Of all the rules in our society, that is the most unbreakable and the most forbidden. For two years this continued, but soon after his twenty-third birthday, he received news that scared him enough to finally come clean to me. I was twenty-one at the time and had been living away from home for a while. I had already met your adoptive father and we were so in love. Of course, I traveled home to visit, but the conduit life already seemed so far off to me.\n\n\"But one day, I opened the door of my apartment to your father's very conflicted face. I read joy, but also the deepest sorrow, and I knew something was incredibly wrong. 'Ellie,' I remember him choking out to me before breaking down into sobs. I brought him inside, and there he confessed to me that he had fallen in love with the most beautiful woman in the world, one who had the purest blonde hair imaginable. At first, I was horrified. I wasn't sure whether to comfort or to scold him, but I knew I was all he had. He told me how they first met while she had been living in New York trying to protect its citizens from the ever-increasing local vampire population. That had been the site of his first solo mission, and they had been tracking the same clan when they ran into each other. At first, they hated each other but then they realized they needed to help each other in order to hunt down and weaken the clan. They started debating philosophies until each was unsure of the lessons they'd been taught since birth. And when they hunted down the clan, your father killed and your mother weakened, but neither felt the same joy as before. He said from that first meeting, they never stopped talking. At first, it had been secret run-ins in New York, then letters, then phone calls, until finally they had stopped taking on real missions and just escaped to meet each other in private. He said they had secretly gotten married a month ago, and he pulled a ring from a chain around his neck. And finally, he showed me a letter your mother had just written, confessing she was pregnant with a child.\"\n\n\"And it was the worst news imaginable?\" Kira guessed and sipped on her hot cocoa for solace. She sank further into her seat and grabbed a preemptive tissue to wipe at the tears that would soon be falling.\n\n\"No, your father was the happiest I had ever seen him, but it was difficult. They knew there would be no turning back. A child meant a life on the run, because you had to be kept secret. He confessed to me that they had made a plan to meet up where they had first met and then run away, and keep running if that was what would be needed to keep you safe. He was going to completely turn his back on his people, all for you, the unborn child he already cherished above everything else.\"\n\n\"But the plan backfired?\" Kira asked and her mother nodded. \"This seems to be a story where everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong.\"\n\n\"In many ways, it was. Your father and mother did run away together, and you were born eight months after your father had come to see me. I was the only one he told, and I begged him to come see me, to let me see you. He told me they had found a safe place and he couldn't give it away, but that they would chance it and come to me. I was overjoyed. For one secret weekend, your father came to visit me, and I met your mother and you. You were the cutest baby ever, only two months old and already with a full set of curly blonde and red hair. You always had a smile on your face, and to the outside viewer all three of you would have looked like the perfect family. In the short hours I spent with your mother, I learned she was caring and gentle. She was an amazing woman, and I easily understood how the two of them had come to love each other. When they left, I assumed it would be years before I could meet you again, but in reality it was only a few short days.\"\n\n\"What happened?\" Kira asked, knowing the heartbreaking story of her true parents was about to come to an end. Her mom was just about twenty-three in the story, and Kira knew that was the age she had always been told she was born.\n\n\"On their way back home, they were discovered by Punishers from a different state. They were captured and questioned, and you were almost put to death until your mother's people came to argue for your life. In the middle of the night, your father tried to escape. He found your mother and you, but while running away, you three were jumped by vampires. Your father was killed, as was your mother, but the vampires had all shared a little of the blood so none was completely immune to our powers. We got there just in time to save you and hold them at bay by mere feet. We rescued you and saved your father's body, but your mother's was still on the other side of the barrier that our powers had created. When we went back the next day, it was gone.\"\n\n\"And I was given to you, my closest relative, so I could live outside of that world and maybe have a chance at a normal life. The Protectors agreed to guard me, and you and Father adopted me to save me.\"\n\n\"And also to love you, as I always have. I used to pray at night that you hadn't been gifted with any powers, but as you grew, I knew that wasn't true. You had eyes of fire and hair to match and my prayers turned to hoping you would never find out what you were.\"\n\n\"But, I did.\"\n\n\"You did,\" her mother agreed sadly. She had barely looked at Kira while they spoke, too afraid to see judgment from her daughter's eyes. The change saddened Kira, as the slight awkwardness in the air spoke of their forever altered relationship.\n\n\"What were their names?\" Kira asked, wanting a small thing to remember her parents by. Names were simple, but held so much meaning.\n\n\"Andrew and Lana.\"\n\nKira took another tissue to wipe at her face. The story of her parents was sadder than she ever imagined. She had hoped they weren't dead, maybe just locked away somewhere. In a way, it seemed like they had only just died because she had only just found them. Kira watched the fading sun sink beneath the tree line and watched the ruby wisps of cloud start to fade. Her mother and she had been outside for a long time. Kira appreciated the stories. She had needed the stories. But it wasn't enough to make her forget everything else.\n\n\"I have to ask why you never told me? Even knowing I was adopted without knowing all the details? I could have handled this new world of the conduits so much easier if every other facet of my life wasn't shattering along with it.\"\n\nKira's mother eased from her seated position and walked the three short steps required to stand before her daughter. She knelt, cupping Kira's hands in her own, trying to close the distance that had sprouted between them.\n\n\"I just didn't know how. I wanted to. Your father and I discussed it every year. First we excused it because you were too young, then because you were going through puberty and we knew that was a fragile time for building an identity. Then your sister came around, and we didn't want you to resent her, and then you were in New York and so far away.\"\n\n\"And then I came home as an adult.\" Kira pulled her hands away and returned them to the empty mug on the side table.\n\nHer mother let her hands drop to the floor, as a tear slid from her cheek. \"You're still my baby. I didn't know how to tell you without breaking the family apart.\"\n\n\"I understand, in a lot of ways I really do, but I'm just not ready to let it go. I need some time to adjust, so can we put the pause button on this conversation? I need a break and time to think.\" Kira resituated herself in the chair so that her body leaned away from her mother's. She needed to be alone, needed to ruminate in peace.\n\nHer mother understood and stepped backward, giving Kira space. \"Of course, I just want to give you one thing.\" She drew a small envelope from her pocket and put it onto the table next to the now empty mugs of hot chocolate. \"It's a token I've had locked away for a while. Remember I told you that my brother came to visit with you? Well, we took a single photograph, and I put it in a locket that I always meant to give to you when I told you the truth. Let me know if you need me, but I'll leave you alone for a while.\"\n\nWhen her mother had disappeared inside the house, Kira lifted the packet and heard the jingle of a chain scratching against paper. She tipped the envelope and let the necklace slide out. The locket was a silver oval, completely plain with no engravings, and next to it on the chain was a gold ring the size of a man's finger. She looked at the inside arch of the band and read the cursive words etched there. \"Love will prevail, your Lana\". His wedding ring, she realized. _No, not his_ , Kira thought. Her dad Andrew's wedding ring—the one that tied him to his true love, her mother, Lana. Kira clutched the ring to her chest, letting tears fall freely, and used her other hand to open the locket, which had fallen to the other end of the chain.\n\nHer father and mother held her between them. Three smiles and three pairs of green speckled eyes looked out from the photograph. Kira couldn't believe she had no memories left from those few months she had had alone with her parents. Her father's hair was a mop of red curls, and freckles spanned his cheeks. His smile was wide and open, just like hers in that it was hard to tell if she was laughing or just smiling. Her mother's hair looked like the sun. It was so perfectly blonde and straight like Luke's. Her smile was more reserved, but her eyes were the same large shape as Kira's, just slightly too big for her face. Kira wondered if her own had ever looked so full of joy and secrets. And there Kira was, a tiny little baby sandwiched between them, laughing and looking up at her mother.\n\nKira stared at the photo. It was minute in size but more important to her than anything else she had ever owned. She moved over to the hammock and lay down, staring at the open-faced locket while time passed by unnoticed. This was the only connection she would ever have to them, and she wanted to memorize every detail she could. Kira wished she could recover just one memory, but her mind from those early weeks of life was too far gone.\n\nA car rolling on gravel distracted Kira, and she heard Chloe giggle and her father's deep laugh. They were home. Both were removed from the conduit world, and for a moment, Kira wondered what he thought the story was. How did he imagine her parents had died? A car crash? A murderer? No one but her mother had the real truth, the full story, except maybe her grandparents. Strangers to her, who she now knew must exist somewhere in the world, but had never wanted anything to do with her.\n\nThe screen door opened.\n\n\"Honey?\" the baritone voice of her father asked. \"I spoke with your mother. I just wanted to see how you were. If there was anything I could do?\" Kira shook her head. \"I love you, and I always have.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Kira replied, still turned away. She heard him sigh as he went back inside. Kira was sure her mother had told him not to push her and to let her be.\n\nShe curled further up like a baby, closing the locket and gripping it to her chest, as close to her heart as possible. The stars were starting to appear in the ever-darkening sky, and Kira let her tears pool. Kira cried for the life she was robbed of as a child, the one she had just been robbed of again. She cried for her dead parents and for her living substitutes now guilt-ridden over their lie. Mostly she thought about what could have been and what would be. About training with Luke and what training with her parents might have been like. She wondered if her parents would have told her the histories of the conduits like bedtime stories to gradually fall asleep to.\n\nSomewhere in all the sorrow, Kira fell asleep and let her dreams do the imagining for her. She hardly noticed when her real life father picked her up from outside and carried her inside to bed.\n\nChapter Nine\n\nA ringing phone woke Kira the next morning. Her eyes were swollen, and she was dehydrated and dizzy from the days before. When she turned over in bed, a cool chain rolled across her skin. She pulled the locket back over her heart, cupping it in her hand. _At least it's something_ , Kira mused. She had photographs and stories, some little tokens to remember them by. _Love will prevail_ , she thought. It was comforting to know her parents had loved each other enough to risk it all to be together. She hoped she could do the same if the time ever came.\n\nThe incessant ringing sounded in her ear again, and Kira reached under her pillow to grab her cell phone. She looked at the caller ID—Luke. Was she ready to get out of bed and face the world? No. But, Kira realized, she would probably never feel ready to start moving on to her new life in a new world she had yet to figure out. She flipped open her cell.\n\n\"Hello?\" Kira's voice came out scratchy and hardly loud enough for her own ears to hear.\n\n\"You sound like crap.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" She rolled her eyes at Luke, wishing he could see her reaction, some sign she was at least alive enough to make fun of him again.\n\n\"Get out of bed, get dressed, and be downstairs in ten minutes. The gang and I are on the way.\"\n\n\"Good lord. Couldn't you have given me some warning?\" Kira asked, jumping out of bed and running to her closet. Ten minutes was not nearly enough time for her to start looking like a human being again. She needed to shower, and she needed some caffeine.\n\n\"Ah, sorry. I totally forgot you're a girl. Emma said I should have called you earlier.\"\n\n\"Tell her I said thanks. See you soon.\"\n\nKira hung up and used both hands to search her closet for jeans and a super comfortable, oversized sweater to wear. She might be venturing outdoors, but she still wanted to feel as though she was lounging in her pjs.\n\nFive minutes later, Kira heard a beep outside and cursed Luke for of course being early. She peered out of her window while quickly buttoning her jeans and saw Emma kick Dave out of the front seat of her small convertible. He sheepishly jumped into the back with the boys, and Kira decided to hurry up before he tried to steel shotgun again.\n\n\"Hey!\" Emma waved from the driver's seat as Kira walked outside. Kira smiled back.\n\n\"So, what's the mystery event today? Luke didn't give me any information over the phone.\"\n\n\"Well, it was my idea,\" Emma began while fiddling with the radio and shushing the boys' complaints when Taylor Swift came on.\n\n\"Shopping?\" Kira guessed from the glimmer in the other girl's eyes.\n\n\"Costume shopping!\" Emma seemed positively giddy as she pulled away from the curb and eased onto the empty street. She stepped on the gas, and the car sped down the road. Kira liked feeling the wind in her hair and the roar of the other cars when they turned onto a busier street. It drowned out her thoughts, and part of her felt like a normal girl about to spend a crazy afternoon with her friends.\n\n\"Halloween is in two weeks, and we have nothing to wear! It's a travesty!\" Emma infused feigned sadness into her voice—well, at least Kira thought it was feigned. \"We need to get costumes now before all of the good ones are taken. And I figured we could all plan some sort of theme together.\"\n\n\"Not this again.\" In the back seat, Miles scrunched up his face, making his glasses slant sideways.\n\n\"Oh please, it'll be fun!\" Excited, Emma released both hands from the wheel to make her point. Kira jumped forward and grabbed it before the car could swerve out of control. Emma flashed her a sheepish smile.\n\n\"I'm with Miles. I refuse to dress up as a Ken doll,\" Dave added, almost under his breath, but loud enough for Emma to notice.\n\n\"It was only an idea...\" Emma let her sentence trail off. Kira laughed picturing the boys as Disco Ken with sequined blazers on.\n\n\"I've got it!\" Luke chimed in from the back seat. Everyone but Emma, now making the effort to concentrate on driving, turned to look at him. \"Power Rangers.\"\n\nKira groaned. \"I refuse to wear a yellow jumpsuit. Never happening. No way.\"\n\n\"You could wear the pink one...\" Luke trailed off, anticipating a slap. Instead, Kira turned around in her seat and simply rolled her eyes at him. He laughed it off but held her eyes for an extra second. She nodded subtly, trying to let him know this was exactly what she had needed and that she was finally feeling a little better. The bickering that constantly seemed to befall their little gang was making her forget all about the other thoughts churning in her head.\n\n\"I'm with Kira. No way. Even I can't look sexy as a Power Ranger.\"\n\n\"I beg to differ,\" Dave chimed in from the back. Kira saw Emma flash him a smile through the rearview mirror.\n\n\"What about the Scooby gang?\" Kira tried to contribute to the debate.\n\n\"There are only four of them,\" Miles said from the back.\n\n\"I know. Luke can be Scooby-doo!\"\n\nEveryone laughed, except for Luke who just claimed he was too tall to pretend to be a dog.\n\nThey pulled up in front of the mall, and Emma slid her car into a parking spot. As they jumped from their seats and headed toward the front doors, a peace treaty was figured out. Everyone would come up with a theme later, and after fifteen minutes of walking around, they would choose the best one—the end.\n\nThe mall was crowded, and Kira immediately tensed up. She couldn't help but imagine how many of those people held deathly secrets or how many might try to kill her.\n\nChildren laughed as they played on the jungle gym set up where Santa's workshop would be constructed in two short months. Their parents gazed on from the sideline. A group of preteen girls gossiped in the corner, and opposite them were a group of Goths Kira recognized from school. Everyone was harmless, she reassured herself. She had to believe it.\n\nThe sun seeped through the skylight and for once, Kira was truly grateful for the lack of artificial lights at this mall. She instantly felt warm all over and calmer.\n\nLuke came up to put an arm around her shoulder. She realized the rest of the group had left them behind to walk toward the costume shop at the other end of the mall.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Luke asked, pushing her down the walk a little. Her feet fell in step with his, and she started to break from the trance.\n\n\"Yeah.\" She nodded. \"What'd you tell them? No one commented on my slight mood.\"\n\n\"Nothing really, just that you were going through some family stuff right now. Emma really wanted to call you yesterday to check in, but I told her to leave it alone and that you didn't want to talk about it.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" Kira nestled into his arm a little further. \"I still just don't know what to do. I spoke with my mom and she told me the whole story, all about my parents. And she gave me this.\" Kira pulled the locket and ring out from underneath her sweater. She opened it and showed Luke the picture. He squeezed her shoulder, comforting her before she even realized she was holding her breath to keep the pain from seeping out.\n\n\"Come on,\" he said, picking up the pace. \"No more sad thoughts. It's time to let Emma dress you up like her very own life-sized Barbie doll.\" He smiled cheerfully as Kira whimpered and involuntarily walked into the Halloween shop.\n\nThe first things she noticed were the life-sized animated skeletons and ghouls that were speaking and had electric light-up eyes. Spider webs were knotted all over the ceiling and gruesome bloodied hands and heads lined the floor. A mechanical spider dropped from the ceiling, landing on top of her head, and Kira let out a loud yelp before realizing it was fake. A five-year-old little boy laughed at her from the other side of the store. _Annoying little kid_ , she thought while looking for her friends who all seemed to have disappeared.\n\n\"Kira!\" Emma waved her over to the back wall, which was lined with costumes and thankfully lacked the gore of the entrance. On the way to the female costumes, Kira spotted the boys huddled in a corner all holding different swords and speaking in hushed tones. She didn't like the look of it.\n\n\"Which one?\" Emma asked holding up a pirate costume and a princess costume. Each one was short with barely any fabric, and Kira knew it would leave little to the imagination.\n\n\"Um...\" Kira said, not knowing how to answer. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing either one out in public.\n\n\"Okay, Okay.\" Luke came up behind them. \"The boys have come to a decision—superheroes, super villains, or pirates. Girls, take your pick.\" Kira noticed he still had a saber looped through his belt hole, making him look more like a little boy than ever.\n\n\"Ooh!\" Emma ran off without answering. She looked like she was in the middle of a eureka moment. Luke just glanced at Kira with a raised eyebrow and she shrugged. Dave and Miles sauntered over, looking out of breath.\n\n\"Swordfight,\" Dave exhaled.\n\n\"It was awesome! We need to be pirates,\" Miles added and Luke looked crushed that they dared do something so amazing without him. But Emma came rushing back at that exact moment and thrust something that looked vaguely like black pleather into Kira's hand.\n\n\"Put it on!\" she squealed and ran into the dressing room behind her. Kira rolled her eyes, afraid that she had already guessed what it was, and followed suit.\n\nWhen she closed the curtain behind her, Kira unfolded the costume, looked in the mirror and sighed. A Catwoman outfit. Of course.\n\nKira didn't want to be caught dead in the thing but knew she had to appease her friend. With a loud exhale, she stripped off her clothes and tried to squeeze into the skintight suit.\n\nWhen she was ready, Kira took a quick peek into the mirror, and she had to admit, she looked good. She had never worn skintight leather before, but it definitely looked hot. Kira held the whip in her hand, put the mask on over her eyes, and smiled. She looked nothing like herself, but she kind of liked it. The faux cat scratches up the side of her leg definitely looked really sexy, and she tried to push aside the part of her head that started to wonder what Tristan would think. She couldn't let herself go there.\n\n\"Kira, come out! I bet you look awesome,\" Emma called from the other side.\n\nKira peeked around the curtain and saw that a few feet to the side Emma was dressed in a Poison Ivy costume. The boys looked appreciative and were at the moment fighting over who got to be Batman if the theme stuck. Kira slid open the curtain, and the boys dropped their jaws, halting the fight mid-argument.\n\nKira smiled. It felt good.\n\n\"Wow,\" was all Miles said, scrambling to right his glasses, which had tilted during the argument. The other two boys remained silent, still slack jawed.\n\n\"Perfect!\" Emma walked in front of her and beamed with joy. \"These are the perfect costumes. We are going to look amazing at the party.\"\n\n\"Party?\" Kira's heart immediately sank. It was one thing to dress like this in front of her friends but another thing entirely to dress like this in front of the whole school.\n\n\"Yes, the party. The Halloween party? I thought you knew about the school dance. I've only mentioned it a hundred times.\"\n\n_Oh, that party_ , Kira thought, but tried to recover by murmuring, \"Right, right.\" She could never let Emma know she didn't pay attention to half the things she said during lunch. The girl spoke at a rate of about one hundred miles per hour.\n\n\"You do like the costume, right?\" Kira saw the hopeful look in Emma's eyes, saw how excited the boys were, and sighed.\n\n\"Yeah, I love it.\"\n\n\"Excellent!\" Emma practically skipped back into her dressing room.\n\nKira pushed the curtain aside, stepped back into her room, and would have screamed, except a hand closed over her mouth, and Tristan pushed her up against the mirror, holding her so tightly she couldn't move. He closed the curtain with his other hand.\n\nKira's body began to heat immediately. She wasn't sure if it was his proximity or her powers, but she couldn't stop the flush that rose to her cheeks or the slight fear that crept into her eyes.\n\n\"Please, please calm down. I'm not here to hurt you. Please, don't be afraid.\" She saw the pleading glint to his eyes and knew he would have already hurt her if he wanted to. She tried to swallow her fear and felt her body relax into his. Tristan freed her mouth and dropped his arms down to his sides.\n\n\"Hey,\" he said, smiling so that slight dimples formed on his cheeks. He shrugged. Kira started to smile in return, but stopped it, mentally shaking herself. She couldn't just forgive him. She forced herself to walk around Tristan's body and slide down the wall to sit on the floor. The image of him licking his lips clean of her blood rose to the forefront of her thoughts, and Kira remembered the desire and repulsion that ran across his features. She looked away from him, unsure of how to act, what to say, and mostly what to feel. There was anger of course, but there was also sadness. She had missed him. She had tried not to, but Kira couldn't hide the bit of joy she felt at seeing him again.\n\n\"Please, say something.\" Tristan knelt down to sit next to her, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.\n\nShe looked at him, at his pale skin, shaggy black hair and somehow warm blue eyes. He was evil beneath it all. She had to remember that or else she would keep falling deeper under his spell. She didn't understand, looking at him now, why she couldn't have fallen for Luke instead. It would have been so much easier. But here she was, wishing he would sit a little closer and explain to her that none of it was true. \"Why you?\"\n\nThe two words escaped her lips before she even realized she had spoken. Hurt filled his eyes. And like a receding tide, the morning's joy quickly seeped from her.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Tristan murmured and started stand, shaking his head more at himself than anything else.\n\n\"Wait.\" She lightly touched his arm, but it was enough to make him sit back down again. \"I didn't mean it. It's just...it would have been so much easier to hate you.\" She let her eyes fall to the ground, counting the feathers and sequins that had fallen off the many costumes that had been tried on in the small room.\n\n\"I know.\"\n\nThey passed the next few moments in silence.\n\n\"What do you want?\" she asked, daring to speak first and glance at him.\n\n\"I saw you and Luke walking over, and I just had to talk to you. I need to explain what happened. You know I would have never hurt you, right?\" She nodded, hoping it was true.\n\n\"I was going to tell you. I swear. But then Diana interrupted and we started fighting and before I knew it, things were spiraling out of control. And then there was the whole part where you almost killed me...\" He laughed a little, stealing a peek at her through his lashes.\n\n\"Sorry about that.\" She smirked at him in return.\n\n\"We'll call it even.\" A little shred of hope lit his features.\n\n\"Why, were you almost going to kill me?\" The hope vanished, but Kira had to ask the question. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.\n\n\"That was their plan.\"\n\nKira sucked in her breath.\n\n\"But even before I met you, I never would have let them go through with it,\" he hastily spoke. \"I'm not like that, I swear. I don't kill people. I know you might not believe me, but it's the truth.\"\n\nKira knew she shouldn't, but somehow she did believe him. She started to say so but heard Emma from the other side of the curtain.\n\n\"Are you okay, Kira?\"\n\n_Crap_ , she thought. The dressing room really wasn't the ideal place for serious conversations.\n\n\"Yeah...\" She fumbled for an excuse. \"Just having a little trouble with the zipper. No big deal.\"\n\n\"The boys are all in their costumes. Poke your head out.\"\n\nKira glanced at Tristan and stood up. She stepped over his outstretched legs, suddenly remembering she was in a leather pantsuit. She could feel his eyes taking in her outfit and immediately felt embarrassed. She tried to quell the blush threatening her cheeks as she slid her head around the curtain.\n\nKira barked out a laugh at the sight of Dave as Batman, Miles as Robin, and Luke, of course, as the Joker.\n\n\"Perfect,\" she said, meeting Luke's eyes and ignoring the questioning concern they held.\n\n\"I know. We're going to make quite an entrance next week,\" Emma said. Kira noticed she was already dressed in her normal clothes and held a shopping bag in her hand. How long had Kira been in the dressing room?\n\n\"Okay, I'll be out in a moment.\" She ducked her head back behind the curtain and glanced at Tristan as he jerked his head back from a position that seemed precariously close to one someone would use to check out her behind.\n\n\"I have to go,\" she stated into the awkward silence, not sure how to get changed with him in the room.\n\n\"Can we talk later? Will you meet me somewhere? There are so many things I still want to say.\" Kira wanted to say yes. She wanted to let him explain everything, wanted the fake mistletoe and stolen kisses one more time. But, she couldn't.\n\n\"I'm not ready,\" she said, even as her heart screamed at her. \"I don't know if I ever will be. I know you didn't mean to ever hurt me, but that doesn't change anything. What you are, what I am...\" She let that last thought linger. There was still so much keeping them apart, so much she didn't know about him and wasn't sure she wanted to find out.\n\nKira turned away from him and looked out past the curtain. All the boys were still comparing costumes.\n\n\"Close your eyes.\" She needed to get changed, and he still couldn't leave. He put his hands over his eyes, but Kira noticed the slight opening between his pointer and middle finger. \"Come on, close them,\" she said, making him stand up and forcing him to face the curtain while she changed behind his back.\n\nAfter a few excruciatingly quiet moments, she was back in her comfy jeans; happy she was free of the skintight cat suit.\n\n\"Hide, okay?\" Kira whispered. He nodded, and she started to pull the curtain aside, but he quickly grabbed her hand, making her turn around.\n\n\"You looked really hot, by the way.\" She smiled shyly. \"See you at the dance.\" He winked and Kira quickly bolted out of the dressing room, trying to keep her heart from beating right out of her chest.\n\nKira practically ran to the cash register and bought her costume, telling everyone she would wait for them outside. She found a bench, curled her knees into her chest, and let her thoughts wander. What was she going to do?\n\nHe drank blood for crying out loud. How was she still attracted to him? Kira could never tell Luke and maybe couldn't even tell Emma. Would she risk it to see if she could love Tristan?\n\nKira fingered the gold ring that now hung around her neck. Did she have the courage?\n\n\"Penny for your thoughts?\" Luke sat down beside her, and she quickly let go of her necklace. Kira had realized one thing—she needed to learn control. When Tristan had grabbed her, she could feel herself start to explode. If it had been Diana or Jerome or John, she might have accidentally killed one of them in the costume store. Or, they could have killed her. She needed to learn more about herself and her abilities.\n\n\"I need to start training with you, don't I?\"\n\nLuke stared at her thoughtfully, probably wondering what brought this about. \"Yeah, at some point you need to start learning who you are and how to use your abilities to protect yourself.\"\n\n\"Can at some point be like at some point next week?\" She lifted her lashes to view him better.\n\n\"Whenever you want.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Let's do it.\"\n\n\"There's one more thing I need to tell you...\" Luke paused. Kira waited, hesitant. \"I need to start sending reports back home. I haven't told them anything important about you, not yet. But if we start training, I need to let them, the council, know you have abilities. I don't think anything will change, at least for a few months. But I thought I should tell you.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Kira replied and thought about it. Once he sent that report, there would be no turning back. The Protectors would know the threat she represented. The whole conduit community would probably learn about her, her powers, and the danger she represented. All the more reason to train and to show them she had control. She had to prove to them that they hadn't made a mistake by protecting her all those years ago.\n\nKira nodded in understanding, silently letting Luke know it was okay, as their friends finally approached.\n\n\"Sorry, I got distracted.\" Miles looked sheepish as he apologized.\n\nEmma rolled her eyes. \"He challenged a ten-year-old to a lightsaber duel. I swear Miles, I hope you get into Harvard, because aside from us, those nerds will be the only ones who accept you.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" he started, but then paused as if realizing the truth in the statement. \"I sent in my early decision application finally. Did I tell any of you?\"\n\nThey all congratulated him, and Kira prayed he would get in. They all loved him, it was true, but unlike Luke who pretended to be really childish, Miles really seemed to be a little boy sometimes.\n\nA few hours later, Kira finally pulled open the front door of her home and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Shopping had utterly drained her, and she was happy to finally soak in the steaming hot water of her shower and let the stress of the past few days melt away.\n\nWrapped in a soft, fresh towel, she slipped into her room and practically passed out on her bed.\n\n\"What's this?\" Chloe appeared from under her bed, scaring Kira half to death.\n\n\"What's what?\" Kira asked, pulling her little sister on to her lap, loving the fact that nothing had changed in that relationship. She still loved Chloe with all of her heart, and they would always be sisters.\n\nChloe shoved a piece of paper at Kira. \"It's pretty.\" Chloe smiled, and Kira took the paper, sucking in her breath when she saw a drawing of her as Catwoman and a note that read, \"Can't wait.\"\n\n\"Where'd you find this?\" Kira asked, finally finding words.\n\n\"On the bed, silly.\" Her sister tried to take the paper back, but Kira pulled it out of her little arm's reach. Tristan had been here, in her room?\n\nChloe slid off her lap and tugged on Kira's arm.\n\n\"Make me hot cocoa,\" Chloe ordered. Kira laughed and tried to get out of Chloe's grip while still holding onto her towel.\n\n\"Let me get dressed first.\"\n\nChloe pouted, but let go of her arm and rushed downstairs to wait in the kitchen. Kira stared at the drawing for another moment before walking over to her bookshelf and slipping it in with Tristan's other drawings that she had hidden in her jewelry box.\n\nShe tried in vain to ignore all the questions creeping into her mind and quickly got dressed to appease the four-year-old terror downstairs.\n\nChapter Ten\n\n\"I can't do this!\" Kira shouted at Luke in frustration.\n\n\"Just relax. Think about lighting the rock on fire. You can do this, I know you can.\" Kira looked at Luke, wanting to strangle him. _Real easy to feel so calm when you've been practicing since birth_ , she thought as she wiped the sweat from her brow. All the mental exertion was draining her.\n\nShe and Luke had been practicing for almost an hour and nothing was happening. Kira was almost beginning to think everything had been a dream. Clearly, she had no special powers.\n\nKira stopped for a moment to look around Luke's backyard. They stood in a small patch of grass surrounded by dense forest. Kira couldn't make out his neighbor's home through the bushes. Even in the sunlight the trees were dark, and Kira knew that if she walked ten feet into the bushes it would be pitch black. A perfect place to practice, Luke had told her when he picked her up from her house and brought her over to his place. No one would see anything, and they would be completely safe.\n\nAn entire week had passed before Kira had brought practicing up with Luke again, and since her parents had left for church without her this morning, she had called Luke right away. Things were still awkward at home when her parents were around, but when she was alone, left with nothing but her thoughts, home was excruciating. Now, Kira wondered which was the lesser of two evils.\n\n\"Come on, try one more time, and then we can take a break.\"\n\nKira sighed and refocused her energy on the boulder Luke stood next to. He told her it wouldn't actually burn, that vampires were the only things affected by the light, but she was a little afraid of hurting him if she couldn't rein it in once started.\n\n\"Kira.\" He brought her back to attention.\n\nJust focus, he had said, it'll come to you naturally. Well, Kira stared at the rock thinking, _light on fire, light on fire, please God give me a little flame_ —but nothing. Her palms didn't even feel warm. She threw them up in the air.\n\n\"This is just never happening! I can't keep staring at a rock and pointing my hands in front of me, I might as well say abracadabra and try to make your house float away. This is ridiculous!\"\n\nLuke shook his head. \"Let's take a break. I need to think of something. I don't know why this is so hard for you. When we were all young, using the power felt like using another limb, it was always easier than this. And I know you're strong. I've seen it.\"\n\n\"Well, good for you.\" Kira huffed and collapsed on the grass where she was standing. He walked inside his house, clutching his forehead with one hand; clearly trying to make a better lesson plan than the one they were currently following.\n\n_He's as new at this as I am_ , Kira thought. She let her back fall flat against the grass so she could stare up at the blue, cloudless sky. _Come on_.\n\n\"Dear sun, please give me the power to channel your rays through my body, thereby allowing me to inherit my apparent birthright and kill some vampires...love, Kira.\"\n\n_I've officially gone insane_ , she reflected while rolling over onto her side to stare at the few brown leaves dusting the ground. Autumn was a lot different in the South, a little too green for her liking. Kira wondered what it would be like to have a Christmas without snow. She would miss the New York blizzards, the slushy streets, and the cursing pedestrians slipping down the subway steps or marching Prada boots through inches of snow. Rockefeller lit up at Christmas. The city came alive when the lights on the gigantic tree were switched on, and the ice skating rink was crowded at every hour of the day. She had always come home for a week during Christmas break to visit with her family, but hanging ornaments on a plastic tree never felt right. Kira used to love coming home to her dorm where her roommate Sarah and she would decorate a blue spruce pine tree.\n\nBut, Kira sighed as she sat up, she had more pressing concerns.\n\nLuke said it would be easy, like breathing, eventually. She wondered if maybe it was just too late. She took psychology back at boarding school, and she remembered learning about human development. The first few stages of life are the most important. If you don't learn to speak by the time you're four, you probably never will. Babies are born curious and learn far more than adults do. Maybe she had just missed out on her chance.\n\n_Enough ruminating_ , Kira mentally shook herself. She needed to learn this.\n\nLuke finally reemerged from his home and carried over two lemonades. Kira gladly accepted. The mix of cold and sweet instantly refreshed her, and she turned to Luke, waiting to hear his thoughts.\n\n\"So...basically, you're a freak.\"\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\nHe threw his hands up in defense.\n\n\"Kidding! I just don't think the way I was taught as a boy is going to do anything for you. Your body doesn't react, doesn't know its own potential. We need to like, awaken you first.\"\n\n\"Okay, creepy much?\"\n\n\"I just mean, we need to find some sort of trigger so you can start to remind your body how it's supposed to work.\"\n\n\"Well, how did you learn? Maybe if you tell me a little bit about the procedure, I'll understand.\"\n\nLuke sat down next to her on the grass, sipping his lemonade and staring deep into the ebony woods.\n\n\"It's hard to explain I guess.\"\n\n\"Try,\" she said, not letting him off the hook at all. This was all his idea anyway. Well, not technically, but still.\n\n\"When you're little, the teaching is less about learning how to bring the fire out and more about learning how to stop it and control it. Ever since I can remember, I would think of the fire, and it would come. Easy as pie. The hard part was controlling it.\"\n\n\"So, it'll be doubly difficult for me.\" She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. \"Fantastic.\"\n\n\"One of the main reasons conduit communities live in such seclusion is to protect the children who have no control. The fire doesn't hurt humans or even inanimate objects, only vampires. So, theoretically, it would be safe to live anywhere. But babies just release energy all the time without any warning and suddenly there's a streak of fire soaring through the air like a cannonball until an adult catches it and sucks it back into themselves. Obviously, if we lived in human communities, people would start to catch on to the strangeness.\"\n\n\"Will I ever be allowed to see that?\" Kira asked, vulnerable. She wished she could have grown up in such a place, totally accepted by everyone.\n\n\"I hope so. Sonnyville was like nothing you've ever seen. I miss it sometimes.\"\n\n\"Why'd you come here, Luke? Why'd you take on this mission?\" Kira had wondered it for a while. Who would willingly enroll in high school to basically babysit the one person who could potentially destroy the world? Nobody wanted that kind of pressure.\n\n\"Because it was my duty.\"\n\n\"That can't be the only reason. You're not one to blindly follow orders. Remember, I dated a Protector in New York, and he was nothing like you. Had he said duty, I would have believed him, but you don't like to always follow the rules.\"\n\n\"You mean Cy?\" She nodded. \"I spoke with him before coming here. He told me how little you knew, how he suspected you would need someone to look out for you. He did care about you, in his own extremely stuffy way.\"\n\n\"And you pitied me?\"\n\n\"A little.\" Luke shrugged. He was trying to be completely honest with her. \"A lot of it was the fact that this was such an important duty, and important missions are hardly ever granted to someone as young as me. Part of it was my competition. One other boy in my town, Nick, fit the bill. But he was a hard ass and no fun. I knew he'd never befriend you unless necessary. I knew he wouldn't provide the support a girl in your situation would need. And you know me.\" He broke his far-off stare to smile at her. \"I can't resist a damsel in distress.\" He lowered his voice to a spooky imitation of Dracula. \"Now, try to light me on fire if you dare...mwahahaha.\"\n\nKira stood, ignoring Luke's impression of an evil mastermind, and got right back down to business.\n\n\"So, I need a trigger.\"\n\n\"Yup.\"\n\n\"Any idea what kind?\" Luke shook his head with a sly smile. He waved her closer and she hesitantly walked over while he turned around. She moved closer to his back, wondering what the heck was going on, when he turned around and lunged at her.\n\nLuke grabbed her by the throat, knocking her to the ground, and she saw teeth protruding past his lips. He sunk his head closer, so the teeth started to poke her neck, and Kira felt trapped. She couldn't move under the weight of his body and had no weapon to fight him off with. Desperation heated her veins, and a flood of warmth surged through her body. She started shivering from the temperature difference between her molten core and the cool breeze brushing her skin. Kira willed the fire to seep out, anything to stop the unbearable scorching of her heart.\n\nSuddenly, she burst, the same way she had in the auditorium. Her hands burned and Kira opened her eyes despite the pain. Luke smiled, and the waves of sun rolled past him, leaving him unharmed. Kira felt like a river that had just been set free from a dam. There was no way to stop the waves of power bursting forth.\n\n\"Control it!\" Luke yelled over the crackling fire.\n\nKira told it to stop. The flood started slowly calming, and she curved her fingers toward her palm, trapping the light in a viselike grip. Finally, the last bit of light burned out, and Kira almost expected smoke to seep from her palms.\n\nInstead, Luke trapped her in a hug and swung her around. \"That was incredible! I was even pushed back a little from your power, which is really hard to do, trust me. You're really strong. You don't even know how strong. It's like there's no limit to how much light you can channel. I never felt it waver until you wanted it to. People usually only last for five or ten minutes, maybe less at full force.\"\n\nKira swiveled. \"How long was I going for?\"\n\n\"Like half an hour. It was incredible.\"\n\n\"Oh my god.\" Kira sat down. \"That felt like thirty seconds to me.\"\n\n\"It's okay, the timing will come with the control. But for now at least, we know your trigger.\" She looked up at him expectantly. \"Well, duh. No offense, but clearly, being scared is the only thing that brings the power out in you. We'll fix it. Don't worry.\"\n\n\"How?\" She looked up at him, noticing how the sun silhouetted his features, it almost looked like he wore a golden crown.\n\n\"I mean, I can't always run around jumping on you with fake fangs. That was just a one-time deal. You're okay, right? I got a little into the moment.\" His eyes peered toward her throat.\n\nKira reached her hand to her neck. She felt completely fine. There was no bruise even though it felt like he had choked her pretty badly. \"Is it possible that channeling also acts as a cure?\"\n\n\"Not that I've ever heard of.\" He was intrigued, she could tell.\n\n\"I never mentioned this before, but in the auditorium, I was hit with a brick, and my leg was bleeding really badly, and Diana cut my face. But afterward, when I came back to your place, all the cuts had closed. They seemed to have disappeared. I just assumed it was another side effect, like the burns.\"\n\nLuke grabbed her shoulders, staring her down. \"Are you certain?\" She nodded. \"Don't tell anyone. I don't know what it means, but it is most definitely not normal.\"\n\n\"I promise, I won't tell. I don't even have anyone to tell.\" She shook free of his hold and tried to laugh it off. Just another way she was different, dangerous. Kira sighed.\n\n\"So what now? How do we keep practicing?\"\n\n\"Try to think of things that scare you, and see if anything happens.\"\n\n\"Like what? Spiders?\"\n\n\"Maybe? I don't know. This is new to me too. Just try to make yourself scared to death.\" Kira rolled her eyes. She just had to scare the life out of herself. How simple.\n\nKira tried thinking of spiders, but nothing happened. She thought of their hairy legs, the clicking of sharp mucous covered fangs and sticky webs trapping her alive. Nothing.\n\nNext she thought of flying, picturing turbulence so rough her butt picked up off the seat, and the overhead compartments fell open. She pictured oxygen masks falling from the ceiling, the plane spinning circles in the air to eventually crash in the Pacific Ocean where she would drown in the cockpit or escape to be eaten alive by great white sharks.\n\nNot even a flush developed on her skin.\n\nFinally Kira thought of the worst thing possible, a scene out of _Scream_ where a knife waving psycho chased her through her house killing off her friends and popping out of closets.\n\nNada. All Kira had managed to do was give herself the heebie-jeebies since she and Luke were totally alone in the middle of nowhere, a place no one could hear her scream. Kira shivered.\n\n\"This isn't working. I'm just freaking myself out.\"\n\n\"Keep trying. This has to work. It's the only way you'll learn any control and be able to do anything aside from fending off a vamp right when it's about to bite you. That method is way too risky.\"\n\nSuddenly, Kira had an idea.\n\nShe looked back at the rock, focusing on the lines of color formed by sunlight and shadow. Toward the bottom, the hard surface turned black and she stared into the abyss, letting her eyes lose focus and start to blur, until an image from her subconscious took over—Diana.\n\nKira imagined the moment when Diana leaned in to sink her teeth into Kira's flesh, the uncontrollable fear she had felt as death crept closer. How she looked at Tristan and in that moment realized he could do nothing to save her, that each of them was helpless. Kira waited for the pinprick of teeth on her neck, felt the tiniest pinch before...and then Kira felt it—her strength was gathering.\n\nHeat flowed to her palm, and, for the first time, it felt as though she called it. She pulled at the tendrils of fire with her mind, willing them to surge through her veins, accepting the pain and focusing on the darkness she was trying to dissipate. Her palms burned as the flares broke through her skin and flooded Luke's backyard.\n\nShe lost whatever hold she had had for those few seconds and started sweating under the relentless surge. Distantly, she heard a man's voice calling at her, telling her to stop, telling her to rein it in, but some sort of monster had awoken inside of Kira. Like an out of body experience, she felt her legs give out, felt the grass crunch against her cheek, but all the while her hands aimed out toward the rock. New hands lifted her, surrounded her. Her palms pressed against something hard, and the light drained away, seeping into a different source.\n\nSlowly, Kira's vision began to return. She focused on her slightly glowing fingernails where they pressed up against soft cotton. Strings of light danced between her knuckles, trying to escape the suction cup hold of her hands against Luke's chest. Kira noticed for the first time that the light was sinking into him, weaving into his chest, and leaving her body.\n\n\"Kira, you have to stop. It's too much.\"\n\nShe looked at him, at the strain on his face and the rough lines of his taut lips. Not her smiling Luke—this Luke was in pain. He squinted his eyes to squelch the feeling, trying to act like a man, but Kira could hear his raspy breath.\n\nShe stepped back and folded her fingers into her palm, willing the torment to stop, and her light obeyed. It winked out almost immediately.\n\nLuke turned away and with a loud grunt, released the sunlight he had absorbed from Kira out toward the forest. For the first time, Kira understood how beautiful it was. The flames illuminated even the darkest corners of the forest, like a firework exploding at eye level. Red, yellow, orange, and blue swirls circled Luke and the yard around, leaving everything unharmed. Flowers turned almost immediately to catch the new rays and blooms opened as if commanded.\n\nBut then, Luke crashed to the ground and crumpled against the grass, letting his light wink out and leaving the yard shrouded in darkness once more.\n\n\"Luke!\" Kira screamed and ran over to him. She landed on her knees beside his immobile body and turned him over so his back touched the grass. She cupped his face in her hands.\n\n\"Luke, please, I didn't mean whatever happened.\"\n\nHis eyes peaked out from nearly closed lids. His fingers moved against grass, inching closer to hers. Kira grabbed his hand and moved to rest his head upon her lap, brushing damp hair from his forehead.\n\n\"Luke?\"\n\nHis eyes fluttered, and Kira heard his breathing lengthen.\n\n\"Hi,\" he said quietly, squirming in his drowsiness. \"Give me a second,\" he asked and tried to sit up.\n\nKira let him gather his thoughts and regain his composure, but she needed to know what had just happened. Did she almost kill him? Kira thought he had said it wasn't possible.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Kira said. He looked over at her and shook his head.\n\n\"What are you sorry for, Kira? It was my own fault.\"\n\n\"What happened, Luke? I thought I couldn't hurt you.\"\n\n\"You didn't.\" He sighed and tried to stand. Luke wobbled on his feet but took a few hesitant steps, as though he were trying to remind his legs how to work. Kira followed him back to his porch and sat beside him on the stoop.\n\n\"I overexerted myself,\" Luke said finally. Kira looked at him, completely blank in the face. \"I tried to take your power into my body. You looked completely lost, like you were drowning, and then you fainted, and I had no idea what to do. So, I let your light flood into me to calm the storm and wake you up, but I guess it sort of backfired.\" Luke looked sheepish. Some teacher he was.\n\n\"But, why did it hurt you?\"\n\n\"It was just too much power. You have no idea how strong you are. Once your body realized what I was doing, you kept pushing more and more light into me, and I just got full I guess. Like a water balloon that gets filled too much, I just needed to release it.\"\n\nKira nodded, finally understanding. She felt horrible.\n\n\"At least it worked.\" Kira tried to be optimistic while she mindlessly pulled little grass strands from the ground.\n\n\"What did you think of? To trigger your power?\"\n\n\"I pictured Diana and the scene in the auditorium.\" Kira shuddered, not wanting to start up again. Luke just nodded.\n\n\"So, we're probably done training for the day. You fainted...then I fainted. I'd call it a successful session,\" Luke said, making light of the situation like always. Kira nudged him with her shoulder.\n\n\"What are you going to tell the council? I assume you have to send some sort of report this week.\"\n\nLuke shrugged. \"Not much. I'll let them know you inherited the power, that you have finally started learning to channel at will and that I'm training you. Nothing about the extent of your abilities.\" Luke looked away from her as he finished talking, trailing his words off into silence.\n\n\"What are you hiding? What would happen if they found out?\"\n\n\"I honestly don't know.\"\n\n\"But, it wouldn't be good.\"\n\n\"No, probably not,\" he agreed almost silently, reminding Kira that this wasn't all fun and games. It was serious.\n\nLuke grabbed her hand, pulled her from the stoop, and led her inside to his kitchen. Kira grabbed her backpack and noticed a small bookshelf in the corner of the room. She couldn't remember ever seeing it before.\n\nKira walked over, scanning the titles. Some were classic fiction novels. She spotted a copy of _Dracula_ with a worn cover and binds that had started to disintegrate. Vampire novels, even current girly romances, were all stacked in perfect alphabetical order. And then, on the lower shelf, Kira saw a book on conduits—on their history and culture. The binding was old, filmed with a perpetual dust, and gold script displayed the title but no author. She heard Luke in the kitchen. It sounded as though the refrigerator had just closed and, before she realized what she was doing, Kira grabbed the book and stuffed it in her bag.\n\n\"Ready?\" Luke said as he rounded the corner with a water bottle, which he threw in her direction. Kira caught it and followed him out to the car.\n\nWhen she got home, Kira ran up to her room, ignoring the family dinner set up in the dining room. She dropped her book bag, locked the door to her bedroom, and pulled out the text she had stolen from Luke. Kira turned off her lights, leaving only the reading lamp by her bed on, and situated herself in her comforter.\n\nShe looked at the index: _Chapter One – A Brief History, Chapter Two – Vampires With Souls?, Chapter Three – Protectors vs. Punishers, Chapter Four – A Mixed Breed, Chapter Five – The Prophecies_.\n\nKira ran her hand down the thick paper, fighting the urge to jump right to the fourth chapter. She let her head fall back onto her pillow.\n\nKira never thought she would be the type of girl that needed an entire chapter of an ancient text devoted to how dangerous she could be. The book had no copyright or publication information. The pages were bumpy from the thick ink that rose off the page, and a thin string was all that held the binding together. Kira almost feared she would wreck it. Had Luke meant for her to find this? She was positive there had been no shelf when she had stayed the night, positive there were no books visible in his home.\n\nTraining had drained her. So Kira stuffed the book under her mattress, where even her sister couldn't reach it, and vowed to start reading it later that week. But before she could even finish the thought, sleep embraced her.\n\nChapter Eleven\n\nEveryone's eyes were on Kira as she and her friends walked into the barely recognizable gymnasium. A blush crept up her cheeks, and she thanked god for the oversized cat mask—complete with ears—that accompanied her costume. Emma and Dave were holding hands and giggling, completely unaware of the crowd, while Luke and Miles had already headed for the snack table, leaving Kira alone and uncomfortable by the entrance. She was used to the stares she got because of her voluminous strawberry blonde hair, but she had never felt so exposed.\n\nKira wanted to curse Emma for convincing her to wear the skintight getup and for cutting extra cat scratches up the sides of her legs. Flashes of her skin were exposed all the way up her thighs, and one scratch cut across her entire back. Kira avoided making eye contact with the senior boys who had all but started drooling when she walked in.\n\nTwenty minutes before, when Luke's trusty pickup had stopped outside her house, Kira had sprinted from her room, down the stairs, and out the door to keep her mother from commenting on her outfit. When she sat safely in the car, Emma kept talking about how she loved the extra black glittery eye shadow and mascara Kira had put on, but the boys had been mysteriously silent. Kira was starting to understand why, and she didn't like it. It was one thing to feel sexy but another to actually have guys openly staring at you.\n\nKira took one more look around the room, and all the way in the back of the gym, she spotted him. Tristan sat with Jerome, John, and Diana at a table nestled in the corner of the party, away from the crowd and completely separated from the fun. All three of the boys wore suits, and Diana was dressed in a floor-length black ball gown. They looked like they had missed the memo on the costume party and had instead dressed up for a black-tie affair. But even though Diana was sitting down and in the wrong theme, Kira begrudgingly thought she looked amazing.\n\n_Of course_ , Kira mused, _the one guy who I actually want staring at me is completely absorbed in his own world._ And Kira left that thought at that, leaving Tristan behind to go find her friends.\n\nEmma had snatched a table right next to the dance floor, so Kira sat with her to wait for the guys who were gorging on hors d'œuvres.\n\n\"Aren't the decorations just amazing?\" Emma gushed, while gazing around the room. Kira had to admit that the party committee had done an awesome job. Cobwebs hung all over the ceiling and walls, filled with plastic spiders and white Christmas lights. Carved pumpkins lined the floors and acted as centerpieces. They had even found black lights to make the room and cobwebs glow a creepy purplish color.\n\n\"Very mysterious looking,\" Kira agreed. She looked over at Emma, who was shifting her weight on the seat while going back and forth between speaking and keeping quiet. \"Spit it out,\" she told her friend, more curious than anything.\n\n\"I just have to ask about Tristan. What is going on there? I've been keeping my distance and waiting for you to talk, but I just can't wait anymore. And the way he stared at you when we came in. I mean, even I flushed.\"\n\nKira snapped her head around to Tristan's table. \"He was looking?\"\n\n\"Looking like he wanted to devour you! So, spill.\"\n\n\"It's complicated...\"\n\n\"Because of Luke?\"\n\nKira silently thanked Emma for the way out. \"Yeah totally, because Luke would hate it.\" Not exactly a lie, but definitely not the real reason for her hesitation.\n\n\"You have to let that go. Luke can handle it. And I know you really like Tristan. Your eyes just lit up like stars when I said his name.\" Kira blushed, hating her obviousness. The boys came back, saving her from the rest of the conversation.\n\n\"We are definitely the best dressed here,\" Luke said as he sat down and Kira couldn't help but agree. Dave made a great Batman, and Emma looked like the perfect Poison Ivy evil girlfriend. Miles was, well, Miles in his Robin costume, the forever geek, and even Luke had the maniacal charm of the Joker when he wanted to. He had even let the girls cover his face with costume makeup.\n\nAs Kira watched Luke, he met her eyes, and for the first time she thought his gaze held more than just friendship. She quickly denied it, blaming her ridiculous costume, and looked away.\n\n\"Hey.\" He grabbed her hand. \"Let's go be evil and mischievous together.\"\n\nKira leaned in while they discussed what villainous act to attempt, and in the end, Luke went the easy route and pulled Dave's mask off his head and ran away with it. Kira followed with Miles and Dave hot on their tails. The chase only lasted a few minutes until Dave tackled Luke behind the bleachers. So, Luke tossed the mask to Kira who quickly found herself cornered by Miles. She threw the mask as far away as she could before Miles jumped on her, hoping the recovery at least would be difficult. Then, out of nowhere, Emma appeared, snatched up the mask, and teased Dave until he caught her up in his arms and stole it back.\n\n\"No one can beat Batman and Robin, fools,\" Dave and Miles yelled triumphantly while the whole group walked back over to their table.\n\n\"Hey, Kira.\"\n\nShe jumped at the unfamiliar male voice saying her name and turned around. Carter Evans, the school quarterback, was talking to her. _Typical_ , Kira thought, _put on some leather and the guy commonly referred to as the most gorgeous person to ever attend this school suddenly wants to get to know you_.\n\n\"Want to dance?\" he asked.\n\nKira honestly wasn't sure what to do. He was definitely nice to look at, and he was a completely normal all-American sort of guy. Maybe he would be good for her track record. And with Emma's eyes practically bulging from her head, Kira knew she needed to say yes. So she took his open hand and let him lead her to the dance floor, which resembled more of a mosh pit than anything else.\n\n\"You look amazing,\" he whispered in her ear as he put his hands on her back and pressed her body against his.\n\nThe base rumbled through her. She found the rhythm of the music and decided she just needed to enjoy herself. To forget about Luke and Tristan, to forget conduits and vampires, and just be a normal hormonal teenage girl dancing with one of the most attractive guys at the school.\n\nCarter wasn't one for words, she quickly realized, as they continued to dance in silence. The music blared, the crowd of dancing students moved as one, and soon Kira began to get really overheated in her leather jumpsuit. Even the skin-showing cutouts weren't enough to keep the sweat from gathering, so after a few more songs with her body pressed firmly against his rather tall and broad chest, she and Carter went to get some punch.\n\nKira looked around while he waited in line, noticing the jealous stares of her fellow classmates and pointedly avoiding the table all the way in the back. She was ignoring him tonight and not thinking about how his black suit set off the stark blue of his eyes so nicely.\n\nShifting her focus, Kira quickly drank the few glasses of punch Carter retrieved and then headed straight to the dance floor again. Carter managed the crowd easily, pushing them closer to the center and away from the tables, so other dancing couples surrounded them.\n\nAfter a while, Kira started to feel dizzy. Looking up, the white lights and glowing cobwebs above her seemed to move, spinning. Carter's actions were in slow motion, and she giggled without any reason. When he started kissing her neck, Kira wanted to pull away, but her muscles wouldn't cooperate, and she had to lean on him just to keep from falling over. He looked down at her, smiling, and she laughed loudly, as though his kiss were the funniest thing in the world. Spinning her around, he held her waist when she wobbled and pressed her back against his stomach.\n\nKira leaned her head against his chest, closing her eyes to block out the twirling lights around the room. Carter stepped back suddenly, and she almost fell, but his arm came around her again, lightning fast. She was pressed against his chest once more, but this time he wasn't moving. The music still played, but their dance was abruptly over. Opening her eyes to ask what was wrong, Kira found herself gazing into Tristan's sapphire eyes instead of Carter's honey irises. She giggled at the unexpected, but welcome, turn of events.\n\n\"Hello,\" she said and leaned her head back against his chest, this time spotting Carter on the floor, doubled over and clutching his stomach. \"Did you hit him? That wasn't very nice.\" She tried to scold him, but Tristan just rolled his eyes.\n\n\"C'mon. You need some fresh air.\"\n\n\"No, I'm fine. Let's just stay like this.\" Kira leaned her head against his chest again, stopping her spins and balancing issues in one deft move. Tristan wrapped his arm around her waist and slowly led her through the mass of people, gripping tighter when he felt her balance wane.\n\nAfter a few minutes, they had slipped free of the crowd and were exiting the humid gym. The blast of cold breeze felt fantastic, and Kira let Tristan lead her away from the school and past the football field to the big tree overhanging the school's manmade lake. He sat down and leaned against the tree, motioning for her to sit with him, but Kira ignored it and started dancing to the quiet strains of music they could hear coming from the gym.\n\n\"Kira, sit down.\" He sounded frustrated.\n\n\"No! I want to dance.\" She started jumping up and down to the beat of the music and almost lost her balance, but Tristan stood up and caught her before she crashed. He slipped off his jacket, and Kira pushed her arms through the oversized sleeves. Finally, she calmed down and swayed with him to the music.\n\nKira sighed, resigned to the fact that the moment felt completely right.\n\n\"What?\" he asked.\n\n\"I'm supposed to be ignoring you, but it's not working.\"\n\nHe laughed quietly. \"No, that doesn't seem to be working for either of us.\"\n\n\"Is that why you punched Carter?\"\n\n\"I just couldn't stand the way he was touching you.\"\n\nKira smiled. \"Jelly belly,\" she said, wishing she could get her mouth to stop word vomiting. She could feel his chin on the top of her head as he pulled her in closer.\n\n\"Maybe,\" he said, but it sounded more like a begrudging yes.\n\nKira yawned.\n\n\"Time to sit down,\" he told her while helping her down to the spot next to him on the ground and leaning her back against the tree. Kira watched the moon reflect off the water. She looked at the sky and saw it still swerving there, and finally had the realization Tristan must have had in the gym.\n\n\"I think my punch was not just punch,\" she concluded as the world continued to spin.\n\n\"I think you're right.\" He put his arm around her, letting her head fall to his shoulder. They sat silently in the moonlight, just enjoying one another's company.\n\n\"Are you like one hundred years old?\" Kira spat out the first question that came to her mind. She had never even thought of it before, too consumed by his eating habits instead.\n\nTristan shrugged. \"A little older.\"\n\nKira sat up, fascinated, and turned to look him in the eyes. \"How old?\" she asked, feeling like a little girl.\n\n\"About one hundred and fifty, give or take a year.\"\n\nKira's jaw dropped and her eyelids widened in complete shock. \"Gross!\"\n\nShe clamped her hands over her mouth before she could say anything else. He just laughed it off.\n\n\"I look pretty good for someone who's more than a century old, right?\" He grinned. She blushed, thinking of their kiss, and silently agreed.\n\n\"So, what do we do now? I'm seventeen and growing, you're seventeen and stagnant.\" Kira finally felt herself coming down from the alcohol Carter had slipped her. The lake still seemed to glow, and the stars still danced in the sky, but she was regaining her mental control.\n\n\"I don't know,\" he whispered and reached for her hand. Kira intertwined their fingers, amazed at his cool touch against her boiling skin.\n\n_Fire and ice_ , she thought. That really was what they were, complete opposites. Fire could melt ice and ice could douse a fire, but was there any way for the two to meet in the middle? But, she thought, Tristan wasn't just icy, he was passionate and alive too—more like a flame trapped in the arctic, struggling for the chance to be set free.\n\nKira snuggled in closer as his arm tightened around her shoulders, and she let her breath slow, enjoying the comfort of these moments where nothing but her feelings mattered, when her mind had shut off for a moment.\n\nA scream sounded, waking Kira from her reverie.\n\nShe bolted upright, out of Tristan's arms, and he stirred beside her, jolted from his quiet slumber. They both heard the second scream loud and clear.\n\nKira looked to the right toward the woods by the school. She swore it came from that direction.\n\n\"Come on, we have to help,\" Kira said and took off at a run toward the noise. Tristan swore and ran past her, using his supernatural speed to shoot ahead. Kira made it to the tree line, where the moonlight lost its power, and everything was pitch black. She heard whimpering ahead of her, sure that whatever girl had screamed was now in real danger. She crept forward, trying not to trip on the roots and twigs all over the ground.\n\nThe blue glow of a cell phone filtered through the trees and Kira hid behind a bush to evaluate the situation. She had to help. What if that girl had been her? But she wasn't sure what she would face on the other side. She started to stand.\n\n\"Stop.\" Tristan breathed into her ear. She nearly screamed from fear. \"It's Jerome and John. Let me.\" And without another word, Tristan disappeared around the tree bend toward the noise.\n\n\"Jerome. John. Control yourselves.\" She heard the commanding tone in Tristan's voice. But there was no reply.\n\nKira couldn't help it. She was too curious and too worried that Tristan wouldn't save the girl. She crept on her hands and knees around the tree and peered toward the light from the cell phone. The LCD cast an eerie blue glow around the forest, illuminating Tristan. She followed his gaze further and could barely make out the shadow he stared at.\n\nKira inched closer. Then she understood.\n\nA girl in a Cinderella costume lay sprawled on the ground, perpendicular to Kira. Her hair was filled with leaves and dirt, proving a struggle had occurred, and now she wasn't moving. Jerome leaned over her neck, and John, with his back to Kira, held her wrist to his mouth.\n\nKira was paralyzed. They were killing her. But instead of feeling powerful and angry, Kira felt afraid. The scene dredged up a memory she had buried long ago, but now it all came rushing back...\n\nBaby Kira looked up into the pale freckled face of a woman with straight pearly blonde hair—her mother. She tugged on the loose tendrils, thinking it a game, and laughed when she caught stray strands flying in the breeze.\n\n\"We have to hurry,\" her father said, and Kira was scared by his tone. She looked over at the tall man with curly red hair, and he strained a smile for her benefit. \"Don't you worry, baby girl,\" he said and tapped her nose.\n\nShe tried to reach his, but her arms were too short. Instead, she used her fire and shot a bolt at his face, laughing as the pretty colors danced across the sky. He looked shocked as the flame landed on his cheek, but it sunk deep into his skin with no harm done.\n\n\"I'm going to get you,\" he said, sweeping her from her mother's arms and swinging her over his shoulder to pat her bum. Kira laughed and shot a bolt at her mother for another reaction. Her mother caught it in her hand and shot it back. Kira clapped her pudgy baby hands and tried to squish the light, but she missed. She tried again and shot a long stream at her mother, who now caught it in two hands. She was about to send it back when seven men burst out of the trees to their left.\n\n\"Lana!\" her father shouted as the strangers grabbed her mother, who shot the light at them. They fell backward, but kept coming. Her father ran to the side with Kira and lifted her off of his shoulders, hiding her in the twigs and leaves of a bush.\n\n\"Kira, baby. Listen to Daddy,\" he whispered urgently, \"be quiet and don't shine your light. Whatever happens, this is very important. Do not let anyone see your power.\"\n\nEven as a baby, Kira knew to listen. He kissed his fingers and touched the kiss to her forehead. Then he turned and shot bolts of light from his hands like bullets, slamming them into the vampires nipping at the woman lying on the ground. The vampires stumbled backward, but more came from behind her father and jumped him, biting into his flesh. He screamed and let the light come out in a long wave. Some vampires were thrown away, other's who were feeding were immune to the effects. Eventually, her father fell to his knees, then his stomach, until he too lay still on the ground.\n\nVampires circled both bodies, lying over them, not letting a single drop of blood escape their lips.\n\nKira sat in the bush, still not able to crawl. She didn't release her fire. She wanted to make her father proud. Kira cried silently, until a minute later another crash came, this time from behind her. Arcs of light soared over her head toward the vampires. At first nothing happened, but slowly the vampires moved back against the onslaught of light, not totally immune. Someone grabbed Kira and lifted her from the bush, but she listened to her father and didn't show anyone that she could make flames as well.\n\nThe vampires moved from her father, but they could not be pushed from her mother. The woman was still surrounded and dying.\n\n\"Let's go. We must hurry,\" Kira heard.\n\nIn an instant, she had been turned from the scene and a new woman was holding her and telling her everything would be all right...\n\n\"No!\" Kira shot up from the ground, propelled from the memory into the present day.\n\nJerome looked up. His pupils had expanded, making his eyes ivory with bloodlust. Fury scorched Kira's veins, growing hotter the longer she met his cold stare. Quick as it had ever come, as though the memory had fully awakened her powers, Kira shot fire at John's back and right into Jerome's face. Both were instantly sent flying through the air, slamming into and breaking tree branches with the force of Kira's power.\n\nSomehow, she kept the light from Tristan and it curved around him. He was safe. He was not evil and not the force of her rage.\n\nWhen Jerome and John had been flung completely from her sight, Kira winked out the fire, fast and easy, as though turning off a light bulb.\n\n\"Well, well. Someone has certainly learned a thing or two in the past few weeks,\" Diana spoke, emerging from the trees behind Tristan. \"Can't hit me without getting lover boy too. Such a shame.\"\n\nDiana pouted, glaring at Kira. Though her tone was light, her eyes sparkled with rage—Diana must have known where Tristan had gone when he disappeared from the school dance. Kira thought about trying to shoot her powers around Tristan again, but her initial anger was waning, and she wasn't sure if she could control it.\n\n\"Get out of here, Diana.\" Tristan said, trying to move out of the way, but Diana just followed, protected as long as she remained two feet behind him.\n\n\"Oh, Tristan.\" She placed an arm over his shoulder. \"I've been letting this go on for far too long, letting you suck on your plastic bags, letting you get more human with each passing day. But, it ends here.\" He made a move to escape her but she held steady. \"Oh, not right now. I'll let you live in this dream world, where you and our mortal enemy live happily ever after. But I'll be back, and you'll be my Tristan again. And when you are,\" Diana let him go and forced him to look Kira in the eyes, \"she'll be the first one you kill.\" Diana pushed Tristan from behind, and he stumbled into Kira with a look of horror marring his features.\n\nKira caught him, distracted enough to miss her chance to weaken Diana. Instead, Diana disappeared into the woods, following John and Jerome—probably more than ready to concoct a plan for revenge.\n\n\"This is all my fault,\" Tristan swore.\n\nKira hugged him, closing her eyes and comforting him for the moment he needed, before standing up and walking to the girl lying on the ground. She looked so small in her torn and now bloodied Cinderella costume. Kira figured she must be a freshman who was excited by Jerome or John's interest, never once suspecting anything bad would happen.\n\nKneeling down, she lifted the girl's head onto her lap. She had healed herself before, now it was time to try the skill out on someone else.\n\nKira placed her palms over the girls ears, holding onto her head, and let her power melt into the girls skin. Her fire traveled through the girl's veins, sealing wounds and healing bruises. After a moment, she stirred and moaned in pain, and Kira stopped. She would be safe. The girl would live.\n\nKira kept looking down, imagining the girl as the woman she had seen in the dream, with pale blonde hair and a dazzling smile. She saw her mother, alone, abandoned by her people, left to die while her husband's body was recovered and her baby taken away.\n\n\"Is it painful?\" she asked Tristan.\n\nHe understood. \"No. Most times, the victim is in a dream state, not aware of their surroundings or of what's happening. There are sometimes exceptions though, if no care is taken.\" Kira nodded. \"Let me have her. I'll bring her body closer to the school where someone will take notice and call an ambulance.\"\n\nKira felt more than saw the girl be lifted from her arms. Exhausted, she let her body fall back on the dirt, curling into a fetal position to cry. Had her mother been in pain the whole time? Had she felt the life drain from her body? Her father had been killed quickly, perhaps because he was a man and they feared the Punishers more. Kira prayed her mother had been sucked into a dream and that she never knew what happened. That in her mind, Kira and she played with fire all the way back to a safe house where the three of them could have grown up as a family. She prayed her mother died to dreams of kissing her child goodnight, growing old with her husband and escaping the confines of conduit society. The truth would have been too hard to bear.\n\nTristan returned for Kira. She barely noticed him pick her up and hold her close to his chest, letting her tears soak his fresh white button-down. She pulled his jacket tighter around her, relishing the smell of him—the smell of musk, generic soap, and burnt embers that might have come from her.\n\nEventually, Tristan stopped walking and opened his car door. They slid into the backseat with Tristan still cradling her in his arms. Kira fell asleep while he hummed a jazz tune quietly in her ear and placed a loving kiss on her forehead.\n\nThat night, she dreamed of the first year of her life—of her parents, of her powers, of how happy she had seemed in that memory. She remembered the games they had played to teach her how to control her flames and how to hide when she needed to. They had loved her, and she had loved them with all her heart, and when they were taken away, Kira had shut down. She had promised her father to never show anyone her powers, so she never used them again—not in front of her adoptive mother and never even alone. Eventually, Kira realized, she had just completely forgotten about her powers.\n\nBut clearly, now all of that had changed.\n\nChapter Twelve\n\nWhen Kira woke up, her back ached and she was freezing. She pulled Tristan's blazer tighter around herself, fending off the cool November morning air, before realizing it was probably Tristan himself that was chilling her.\n\nShe sat up and maneuvered out of his arms, trying not to wake him. Oddly, Kira didn't feel embarrassed at all about spending the night with him in his car. She loved having him hold her and comfort her. Sure, her parents would flip when she got home, and she would have to figure out what to say to Luke. But for once, Kira wasn't going to worry about that.\n\nShe looked out the car window at the grounds brushed with dew. The sun had just started peeking through the sky. Soft tendrils warmed her skin, and Kira realized that the events of the previous night had awakened something inside of her. She felt different. More in control, as though her memories had allowed her to acknowledge her birthright—to understand that it wasn't horrible but beautiful. She could save people. Perhaps, she had been born not for chaos but for life.\n\nKira opened her palm and let a little flame rise to rest on her hand like a small campfire. Her fingers warmed instantly, as did her body. Feeling the sun gather on her skin left her complete, content. The swelling under her eyes receded, her scratches from the forest mended themselves, and finally Kira found something better to wake up too than coffee.\n\n\"You're beautiful. You know that?\"\n\nKira turned to Tristan, happy to wake up to his barely opened eyes and lazy smile. Distracted, she let her light grow, until she saw Tristan wince.\n\n\"Sorry,\" she said and winked it out of existence.\n\n\"I don't mind.\" He sat up.\n\n\"So what now?\" Kira asked, letting her head fall back on his shoulder.\n\n\"Do you need to go home?\"\n\nKira shook her head. There were too many things they needed to talk about. She wanted Tristan to open up to her and tell her about his past. Kira knew that if she went home, he would close himself off again to protect her.\n\n\"Good, then just trust me,\" he said, hopping into the driver's seat while Kira moved to the passenger side. Tristan started the engine and slid his hand into hers as he sped out of the school parking lot.\n\nKira couldn't help but wonder if anyone had seen them sleeping in Tristan's car last night. Someone must have. They were in the middle of the parking lot and not everyone had left the school dance before they got there. Luke might have walked by and glanced in, but Kira didn't even want to think about that. He would be so angry and hurt. Luke would never understand why she wanted Tristan, but she and Tristan were the same in many ways—both outcasts who didn't really belong anywhere.\n\n\"Penny for your thoughts?\" Tristan asked.\n\nKira relaxed and placed her feet on the dashboard, letting her eyes meet his, knowing they sparkled like Emma had said earlier.\n\n\"I'm thinking I'm happy just sitting here with you like it's completely normal.\" She smiled, and he grinned back, clutching her fingers a little tighter. \"I'm also thinking, damn I wish I'd brought a change of clothes.\" Tristan snickered, and Kira glanced at her leather-covered legs, happy she at least had his coat.\n\n\"Don't worry. We're not going anywhere public.\"\n\n\"And where are we going? You don't have to be so mysterious all the time.\"\n\n\"Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.\"\n\nKira rolled her eyes and settled in to her seat some more, listening to the music and letting Tristan concentrate on the driving.\n\nEventually they pulled up next to a riverbank. Tristan led Kira along the shore, pulling her until they reached a giant oak tree with branches that reached out over the water. Tristan slid on the branch in front of her and then helped Kira up. Kira let her back rest against the tree trunk, watching Tristan as he inched further out past the few feet of marsh, until his feet dangled over flowing water. Kira listened to the birds chirp, the water swoosh, and the trees rustle, and felt at peace.\n\n\"It's beautiful. What river are we on? How'd you find it?\"\n\n\"The Ashley River. I've come here ever since I was a boy.\"\n\n\"One hundred and fifty years ago?\" Kira asked.\n\nThis was what they had come here for—to talk and to tell their stories. Kira looked at Tristan, watched him peel bark off the branch with his fingers, and struggle with what to say.\n\n\"It's okay,\" she murmured, wishing he would move closer so she could hold his hands and provide some comfort.\n\nTristan took a deep breath, let the air ease out, and began to tell his story. \"I was born in 1847, right here in Charleston, to two wealthy plantation owners.\" He glanced up at her, trying to gauge Kira's reaction, but she just nodded encouragingly. \"My house wasn't far from this spot, and I used to play on this tree as a little boy. I was often by myself, left alone to explore and play. You see, my mother was the only one who ever understood me. We'd go into Charleston and she'd buy me expensive paints. The first time she bought me a canvas, she took me up to the steeple I showed you and told me to draw the city. It was life changing.\"\n\nHe paused, and Kira tried to picture him as a little boy, hiding away with paints and drawing pads, exploring the forests alone. It was a sad image of a lonely childhood, and Kira was suddenly more grateful than ever for Chloe and the parents she did have.\n\n\"You have to understand that I never liked slavery,\" he continued, \"never wanted the family business, and never wanted any part of cotton. That was for my brother. I needed beauty and not savagery. But when the war came, I did my duty. We both went off fighting, my brother fighting for power and I fighting to protect the city I loved, but not the lifestyle. One night in 1864, the Northern army surprised my regiment and I got shot twice—once in the thigh, once in the shoulder. I fell instantly and watched as my fellow soldiers retreated to leave me stranded. Other dying men lay moaning all around me, and I slowly bled out, awake for what seemed like hours, hearing others fall silent beside me, until a man came. I saw him kneel with the dying, leaning in close. At first, I thought he was a priest saying prayers for the dead, but then he came closer, and I saw the blood all over his face and started screaming. For some reason he took pity on me and saved my life by turning me. When I woke up, feeling the hunger, I knew hate for the first time. I wished I'd died.\"\n\nTristan eased his eyes shut, lost in his own thoughts for a moment. Kira knew he was struggling with the memories of the life he had lost. He opened his lids and stared out into the distance, at the trees on the far side of the riverbank, swaying in the wind. Kira had a feeling he was staring through them to a scene she would never herself be able to see.\n\n\"Aldrich, my maker, was not a good man. He kept dungeons filled with human prisoners, enjoyed torture and murder. For thirty years, I stayed with him. He forced me to kill, to feed off terrified and crying women, and I thought it was the only way to live. That I was damned to that hell forever.\"\n\nTristan let out a sad smile and ran his hand through his hair. His shoulders were hunched, but he turned his head to look at Kira. \"One night, a band of Punishers raided his home. We all fled, but I purposely let the conduits separate us. I knew it was my only chance to escape, so I let him think I'd died. I've never seen him since. I don't know whether he lived or died, and I never want to.\"\n\nKira wanted to cry for him, for the horrible things he had lived through. He moved closer to her, back toward the shore, and Kira grabbed his hand when he was within reach. She pulled him to her, until he had shifted so that his back rested against her stomach.\n\nHugging her arms around him, she whispered, \"It's all right, now.\"\n\n\"I may be a vampire, but I'm not a bad man. I swear it.\" He sounded as though he was about to cry. Kira realized his memories still haunted him.\n\n\"I know,\" she said and nodded, hoping he felt the movement against his head, understanding she was sincere.\n\n\"After I escaped, I kept to myself for a long time. I fed off people because I had to, but never enjoyed it and never killed again. I traveled, jumping from one city to the next, trying to see the wonders of the world and meeting different sorts of vampires along the way. Some were just as bad as Aldrich, and some were just like me. During the first World War, I scavenged on soldiers dying in Europe, but a few years later a discovery changed my life. I stumbled upon a Russian blood bank, found bags full of blood, and realized my days of feeding on humans were over.\"\n\n\"When did you meet the others?\" Kira asked, thinking of Diana, Jerome, and John.\n\n\"I knew Diana from the start.\" Tristan angled his head to look at Kira. She hoped she covered her shock well enough. Diana and Tristan had known each other for more than a century?\n\n\"She was with Aldrich for years before he turned me. She took to his teachings far more than I ever did, but she always believed we were meant to be together. She was the one who helped me escape, and I never heard from her again, until I returned to Charleston fifteen years ago, finally ready to come back home. I was tired of drifting, of being alone, and I missed Charleston. It hadn't changed all that much in one hundred years, and I was walking through the old town one night when I saw her with Jerome and John. She welcomed me back with open arms, and even though I disapprove of their lifestyles, it felt so nice to have a family again. But all that changed when I met you.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Kira couldn't understand how two months of barely knowing her had changed Tristan so deeply that he would betray the one person he had known for one hundred years. Because surely that's what Diana saw it as—betrayal. The past two months had flipped Kira's life upside down, but she never imagined they had done the same to Tristan.\n\n\"When I first saw you, in the classroom, I had no idea what you were. I never dreamed conduits could form mixed breeds, but Diana knew right away, and she wanted to capture you and kill you. As soon as she said it, I don't know why, but all I could think about was protecting you. Well, some protector I turned out to be.\" He shook his head and sat up, jumping from the tree to stand on the shore. He knelt down to gather some flat stones to skip along the water's glassy surface.\n\nKira watched as he beat himself up over the events of the past few weeks. No wonder he always seemed sad, Kira thought. He blamed himself for everything, even things completely outside his control. \"I'm alive, aren't I?\"\n\n\"Because you discovered your power. Diana almost killed you.\"\n\n\"But Tristan...\" She sat up and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face her. \"I might have never discovered anything if you hadn't helped me, in the classroom, when you scared me. It awakened my power, made me know I could somehow help myself. And let's not forget that you saved me from almost drowning.\"\n\nHis features softened and he leaned back against the tree branch, covering her hand with his own, keeping it securely on his shoulder. \"You must have questions. Fire away.\"\n\nKira chewed her lip, thinking of what to ask first. Her mind was practically bursting, but she didn't know where to start. What do you ask someone who is old enough to be your grandfather but looks young enough to date? Normally, Kira thought, a guy his age would be married...married? How many girls had he been with? Kira had only been dating for a handful of years, and she had already had at least one boyfriend. Tristan had been doing it for one hundred and fifty years. He must have had tons of lovers.\n\nKira pulled her hand from his, suddenly very conscious of their age difference. She'd never done more than kiss a boy, and she could only imagine what sort of creepy, vampire things Tristan had done.\n\n\"Kira? What are you thinking?\" He turned around, resting his elbows on the tree branch and looking up at her.\n\n\"Um...\" Kira twiddled her thumbs, fighting the urge to blush. \"So, how many girls have you, you know...dated?\" _God_ , she thought, _why am I acting like a thirteen-year-old?_\n\nTristan burst out laughing. \"Of all the things, that's what you want to know?\"\n\n\"Well, it's a start. Why? Something to hide?\" she asked, lifting her eyebrows. Kira was becoming defensive, and it brought her out of her dazed schoolgirl mood.\n\n\"No. I don't even know. No one serious, if that's what you're asking. But I've been around for a while, so I've met some women along the way and, well...\" He trailed off.\n\nKira hid her face in her hands, suddenly not wanting to know. No one serious—that was good enough for her.\n\n\"New topic please,\" she spoke, still not meeting his eyes. \"Can I see your fangs?\" She dropped her hands, feeling like a little kid with a new toy.\n\nTristan rolled his eyes at her but closed his mouth and opened it a second later after a strained expression crossed his features. They were smaller than Kira had remembered with Diana, not nearly as frightening as she had imagined. Pearly white and seemingly delicate, but Kira knew they were lethal, literally. They looked sharp, she thought and reached her finger out to touch one, but Tristan moved away.\n\n\"Don't. I don't want to hurt you,\" he said, letting his teeth recede back into his gums. Kira wasn't sure if he meant hurting her finger, or doing something a little worse, so she left it at that.\n\n\"So, what did Diana mean about getting 'her Tristan' back? Can she do that? Can she actually change you?\" Kira leaned back against the tree again. Diana's threat had seemed real and much more a promise than empty words.\n\n\"No. I should probably explain more about Diana though.\" He sighed, resigned. \"When Aldrich brought me back, during the change, Diana was the one who cared for me. Afterward, she taught me how to eat and survive and control the urges. She always believed I loved life with Aldrich and that I would someday love her. But years passed, and she could see my discontent. When she helped me escape by leading Aldrich the other direction, away from the Punishers and from me, I think she always expected for me to find her and return to her. When I finally did, I was a different man. She was disgusted that I ate from bags and refused live humans. She still is. I think she believes that if I fall off the bandwagon and drink from a human one time, I won't be able to stop. That I'll become the monster Aldrich made me into again.\" He looked up at Kira, his expression hard and full of conviction. \"I never will, Kira. That was never who I am, and I won't go back, no matter what Diana tries to do.\"\n\n\"I'm confused though.\" Kira thought back to the auditorium, when she discovered what Tristan and the others were. He was stronger than all of them. If she had never gotten hit by the brick—never started bleeding and distracted him—Tristan would have beaten them all. He had thrown them around like rag dolls and not a single punch had touched him. \"In the gym, you laughed when they threatened you. They were all afraid to challenge you. Why? Diana's older, shouldn't she be more powerful?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"The age thing is just a myth. Your human blood determines power and strength. If you were strong as a human, your strength will be amplified, same with speed. Even abilities, like being able to read people's facial expressions can turn into actual mind reading when you're changed into a vampire. I think that's why Aldrich turned me. He must have known I'd be as strong as I am. But age doesn't affect it at all. I could be stronger than a thousand-year-old vampire, but he's had more time to make friends and garner power, so he's more untouchable.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Vampires have their own set of rules. Almost every country has some sort of governing council with heads, sort of like senators, in each of the major cities. If I wanted to travel to, I don't know, Boston, I would need to ask permission first. There are a lot more rules than you would think.\"\n\n\"But all the rules I can think of seem to be wrong,\" Kira said, remembering Tristan in the church and lying in the sun.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well, we're outside during the daylight, and you don't seem to be bursting into flame. How did all those rumors get started?\"\n\n\"It was...\" He thought of the right word. \"Beneficial for vampires to start those rumors. That way, anytime I wore a silver cross or went surfing, no one would even consider the possibility of the supernatural. Just a precaution.\"\n\n\"So, I'm the only way you can die?\"\n\nTristan shrugged, and Kira looked down at the dim burn marks on her hands from the night before. It hadn't even hurt that time. The fire had come completely naturally. \"Can I ever become a vampire?\"\n\n\"No,\" Tristan said quietly. \"A conduit can only be killed by a vampire. Their blood rejects the turning.\"\n\nKira assumed as much even though Luke had never bothered to tell her that. She was relieved in a way, knowing that she could never become a vampire. She would have never wanted that, a life of drinking blood, even if it meant a life with Tristan.\n\n\"Can you ever skip out on the whole immortality thing?\" she asked.\n\nTristan shook his head silently.\n\nThey really were doomed. She would grow old and die, probably killing vampires along the way. He would be young and strong forever, and there was no way around that.\n\n\"Is all of this even worth it?\" Kira murmured, staring out at the water. The tide had risen, and the waves were choppier now, breaking into white heads along the surface and swallowing the marshes at the riverbank. \"I mean, I wouldn't mind the whole cougar aspect, having a boyfriend who looks seventeen when I'm at the ripe old age of sixty, but who are we kidding?\"\n\n\"We have to try,\" Tristan urged. \"Maybe you can live with never knowing, but I can't spend eternity wondering what could have been. And if we end up falling in love, truly and deeply, we can deal with it when the time comes. I wouldn't mind having a sugar-momma.\" He winked at her, and Kira's mood lightened a little bit.\n\n\"I'll marry a rich man, and you can be the hot pool boy I have a scandalous affair with.\"\n\n\"Or, I can make a ton of money and pay for all the plastic surgery to keep you looking young. Pumped up lips and a little Botox for the wrinkles—I don't like it when faces actually move you know.\"\n\n\"Can't wait,\" Kira said and pretended to growl like a cougar. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her from the tree branch and into his arms. They slipped from the shade of the overhanging tree into the heat of the sun, and it refreshed Kira, giving her energy.\n\n\"What does the sun feel like to you?\" Kira asked, loving the serenity she always felt when outdoors.\n\n\"Sort of like an electric current prickling my skin. It stings, but I don't mind.\"\n\n\"And what does my sunlight feel like to you?\"\n\n\"I imagine it's comparable to being burned at the stake. Every part of my body boils under the heat.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Kira said, and Tristan brushed the lock of hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ear.\n\n\"I don't blame you. You were only protecting yourself. Besides, as soon as you stop, the pain does too, in an instant.\"\n\n\"Still...\"\n\n\"Nope. No feeling sorry for the vampire. Besides, it's my turn to ask you a question.\" She looked up at him, waiting. \"Are you really a mix between Protector and Punisher? I thought so, but without tasting more of you, I can't be sure.\"\n\n_Gross_ , Kira thought, _tasting me?_ \"There will be no blood exchanges today, so I'll just tell you that I am and you'll have to trust me.\"\n\nHe smiled, showing her that he had popped his teeth out again, jokingly.\n\nBut then he frowned, saying, \"You should dye your hair. It's too obvious. If word gets out that you exist, every vampire around the world will be coming after you.\"\n\n\"And then all hell breaks loose, right?\" Kira ran a hand through her curls. She had never even thought about her hair as dangerous, as giving her away. Her eyes maybe, but how deadly could a strawberry blonde mess really be?\n\n\"Let's hope we never have to figure that out,\" he said.\n\nKira silently agreed. All she needed was to let go for a second, lower her guard and then _bam_! She remembered her parents, how vampires had jumped them, coming out of the bushes with no warning sign. If a single vampire ever caught her, he could keep her around, drinking her almost dead for immunity, then letting her blood replenish for more supplies. Kira saw Tristan fight Diana, John, and Jerome. Without their light, conduits were no match for vampires. _Our fire is our only weapon_ , Kira thought. Conduits needed to exist, but she could mean their end.\n\n\"You know, you seem different to me,\" Kira said, shaking her head and changing the subject. No more dark thoughts, not while relishing the cool embrace of his arms around her, comforting despite the cold. \"Happier, somehow. Like the brooding, sad Tristan has been mostly replaced by the mischievous one.\"\n\n\"I am.\" He smiled against her forehead. \"You don't even know what a relief it is to talk to someone about all of this. I've been holding it in for one hundred years, and finally, I can openly and honestly talk about how I feel. I can be myself.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" Kira said, as she rested her head on his chest, noticing the steady beat of his heart. \"I can't talk to Luke about how I feel about all of this. He would never understand why I'm even talking to you. He doesn't know what it feels like to be trapped. I never asked for these powers. I never asked to be a conduit, and the potential end of the world, as Luke described it, if some vampire becomes immune through me. I never wanted any of it. But he's always lived this life. He always wanted it, and he loves his job, I can tell. He told me to keep the healing thing to myself, you know? He thinks the conduit council won't react kindly. It makes me question what they're like, whether I even want to be a part of it.\"\n\n\"I was wondering about that,\" Tristan said, running his finger along the spot on Kira's face where Diana had cut her. \"There was no scratch or scar the next time I saw you. I thought Luke might have done something. I actually don't know very much about conduits.\"\n\n\"I think I'm the only one who can heal things. I don't know how I do it, it's just sort of an instinct.\" They stood in silence, Kira waiting for Tristan's inevitable question.\n\n\"So, what are you going to tell him?\" Tristan asked, and Kira moved her head to look up at him, reading the vulnerability in his features. She knew what he meant, what would she tell him about them, about this conversation and the intimacy they now shared. Surely, Kira would tell him about finding Jerome and John in the woods, about the memory she recalled and how she could now control herself so much more. But what about the dance she and Tristan had shared by the lake, or the private moments they shared now, talking about the darkest parts of themselves? She couldn't hide from Luke forever, but she wasn't sure if she could come clean and risk losing him.\n\n\"I don't know. I'm so sorry. I just...I don't know how he'll react. And I need him, he's my only connection to the conduits, the only person I can learn from.\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" Tristan said, but Kira saw the quick flash of hurt in his eyes—eyes so icy blue she had at first wondered if there even was emotion in there. Now she saw them differently, not icy but deep, like a pond on a calm day when the surface seems hard at first, but something as small as a pebble can drop smoothly in, destroying the semblance of steel. Kira had dropped in, broken the surface of his soul, and she didn't know when she would reach the bottom.\n\nTristan cupped her cheek with his hand, staring into her eyes as well. Kira wondered what he saw there. Were her eyes a raging fire that had suddenly calmed to a flickering flame? Her heart seemed to stop as he kept looking, reading her fears and desires, her vulnerability, and the parts of her she tried to keep hidden from everyone else. Then, almost as if in slow motion, he leaned his face down to hers, letting his lips gently grace Kira's, and the moment of calm was gone.\n\nHer heart pounded, and she stood on her tippytoes, eagerly returning his kisses.\n\nChapter Thirteen\n\nWhen Kira awoke on Monday morning, a knot of dread tightened her stomach—she did not want to go to school. She hadn't seen Tristan since he had dropped her off at home on Saturday, and she had ignored Luke's calls all weekend, completely unsure of what to tell him.\n\nWhen she finally got out of bed, it took her ten minutes to brush her teeth and wash her face—staring at her hollow eyes in the mirror the entire time. The thought of Tristan made a blush rise, but that warmth was quickly pushed away, replaced by self-loathing when Luke leaked into her mind. Eventually, her mother pushed Kira into the car and actually drove her to school.\n\nLeaving her on her own in the parking lot, her mother scolded Kira to hurry up as she was obviously late. Kira listened and ran to the safety of her class, one she shared with neither of the boys. She kept her eyes glued to the scratched hallway floor when sprinting from room to room, not daring to even chance making eye contact with either boy, and she jumped at the sound of her name a few times, only to realize she had been dreaming it.\n\nBut then, the lunch bell rang.\n\nIt was time.\n\nUnless she decided to eat in the bathroom stall, Kira would have to face Luke and Tristan. She meandered through the halls, waiting for them to thin and for the cafeteria to crowd, hoping her entrance would go unnoticed. Finally, she couldn't stall anymore, and Kira walked through the double doors into the chaos of lunch hour. Her eyes immediately honed in on the table outside where one lone figure sat—Tristan.\n\nHe was sprawled across the tabletop, basking in the sun with his hands crossed under his head and his foot tapping to the tune playing only in his mind. Almost immediately, he turned his face to meet Kira's eyes. Her heart stopped, and he crinkled the corner of his mouth in a subtle greeting. Instantly, Kira flashed back to the hours they spent lying in each other's arms on Saturday, when all conversation had ended and all there had been were feelings. She had never been kissed so passionately, yet held so gently and treated like a lady. He had respected her and let her set the pace, which yes, had ended at kissing.\n\nKira's pulse started racing at the memories, switching from dread to excitement in a matter of moments. Her brain ran on overdrive, confused by the complete momentum shift that could only be caused by the delightful torment of falling in love.\n\nShe mindlessly bit her lip, hiding the grin that threatened to spread across her face and looked away first, right into the eyes of Luke. He was dodging students, weaving his way through the lunch crowd, and staring her down with a look of relief and anger. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a bear hug.\n\n\"What the hell happened to you? I thought you'd died. Why didn't you call me back?\" He set her back down, but kept his hands on her shoulders, ensuring Kira couldn't run away.\n\n\"Nothing.\" Kira avoided his question when she saw the others making their way over. \"We need to talk. Not here,\" she whispered and then shirked his hold to greet Emma, who squealed loudly and hugged Kira in a viselike grip.\n\n\"We were so worried. Oh my god. You don't just run out of a school dance like that.\"\n\n\"I'm fine, I'm fine,\" she said when Miles and Dave leaned in to hug her as well. _Jeez_ , she thought, _they really must have been worried_. \"My phone died, and I completely didn't realize it. I'm so sorry.\" Kira shrugged, feeling terrible.\n\n\"So what happened?\" Emma asked when everyone had sat back down at the usual table. \"One minute you're dancing with Carter Evans...\" Emma wiggled her eyes. \"And the next you've disappeared.\"\n\n_Crap_ , Kira thought. She had forgotten to prepare a cover story for the rest of the gang. Eventually she would have to tell Luke the truth, but what would appease them in the meantime? _Go with something gossip worthy_ , she thought. Emma would do all the work. \"You'll never believe it, but Carter slipped alcohol into my drink. I got totally drunk, and he started freaking out, so he just drove me home. It was insane. I mean, he always seemed like such a nice guy.\"\n\nAs Emma's mouth dropped, Kira smiled to herself. _Perfect_.\n\n\"Oh. My. God. What a creep! I can't believe this. That must be why he gets so many girls. He totally tried to date-rape you.\"\n\n_Okay, maybe too far_ , Kira thought, and interrupted to rein Emma in. \"No, no. I think I just didn't realize. Someone else could have spiked the punch, I guess. I mean, he drove me home. That was nice.\"\n\n\"Drove you home after he drugged you!\" Emma looked over at Carter, shooting daggers across the room with her evil eye. Carter actually seemed to sense it, because he looked over and quickly sank down into the sea of letterman jackets that composed the football team's lunch table. \"Yeah, that's right. Hide.\"\n\n\"Emma.\" Kira grabbed her friend's arm, forcing her around. \"Seriously, it was no big deal. I just went home. I don't even blame him.\" _Woman scorned_ , Kira thought with a mental shrug.\n\n\"So, where were you Saturday?\" Luke interrupted.\n\n\"Yeah, what did happen?\" Emma let Carter go and turned her attention to the bigger mystery.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Kira stared down at her sandwich, taking it out of the Ziploc bag she had packed it in that morning and pointedly ignoring her friends.\n\n\"I called you on Saturday, and you never picked up. It rang, by the way, which is unusual for a dead phone, and then I drove by your house, and your mom said you hadn't come home yet. Strange.\" Kira assumed from his sarcastic tone that Luke was pissed, but the raised eyebrows and rage-filled stare really cinched it.\n\n\"Um...\" Kira's mind was racing. Nothing would sound convincing at this point. \"I snuck in after they were sleeping and didn't wake up until like four. You know, drinking...hangover...\" Kira nodded, trying to sound convincing as she let the sentence trail off. Under the table, she pinched Luke, hoping he would connect it to conduit business, and let it go. He understood, and Kira sensed he had known it was conduit business all along, but wanted to make her squirm.\n\n\"Damn,\" Dave chimed in. \"Sounds like Carter really got you wasted.\"\n\n\"Totally.\" Kira buried her face in her sandwich again and let Emma take up the conversation, telling stories about the parts of the party Kira had missed out on. Apparently a bunch of guys from the basketball team pantsed a cheerleader. Kira was actually disappointed she had missed it.\n\nThe lunch hour rolled to an end, and Luke grabbed Kira's hand as everyone started flooding from the cafeteria.\n\n\"Come with me,\" he instructed, leading her against the crowd toward the back door. Kira let him pull her along.\n\nJust as they reached the door, she took one last look across the empty tables and through the windows at Tristan. He was sitting up now, his white T-shirt a little rumpled from the breeze, and he returned her gaze. His eyes were pained, almost as though he had been waiting for her eyes all lunch hour and hated to be the afterthought Kira had as Luke took her away. She wished she could give him one quick peck on the lips, letting him know he had been in her thoughts all along, but she was shoved through the door instead.\n\nTristan's eyes stayed with her as she and Luke snuck around the school grounds toward the parking lot. Kira knew she had to fess up and tell Luke everything. She just prayed he would be all right with it.\n\nEasing into Luke's car, Kira let him drive, okay with wherever he wanted to go to talk. She thought Luke had maybe expected it. He had to have known she had been keeping things from him, especially things about Tristan. It wasn't fair to Luke, she realized, to be lying and going behind his back when he had given up everything to help her inherit her powers.\n\nLuke pulled over next to a big empty playground, one slumbering until the town kids all got let out of school. He walked across the open field toward the jungle gym, and Kira followed. They sat on old swings that were covered in flakes of rust and squeaked in the breeze. Kira played with the woodchips at her feet, waiting for Luke to start.\n\n\"I'm not an idiot, you know.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Kira said softly.\n\n\"Ever since he saved you on the beach, I knew something was going on. I just, once you realized who you are, I never thought you'd be so stupid.\" Luke's eyes bored into her head, daring her to challenge him, to say it was a lie. \"I mean, he's a vampire. We were made to kill them.\"\n\n\"Not all of us,\" Kira spoke and finally looked up from the ground. \"You're a Protector. You see the good in them.\"\n\n\"That's what I've been taught, Kira, but we all know the truth. There is no good in them. A vampire can't be saved.\"\n\n\"That's not true.\" Kira's throat constricted. If Luke were right, there would be no hope for her and Tristan, not ever. She couldn't let herself believe his words.\n\nLuke moved his hand to hold hers on the swing. \"It is. Listen to me and trust me, because I for one have never lied. Conduits have been alive for thousands of years and in all that time, not a single vampire has been saved. They are evil, Kira, and any Protectors who don't believe it are just fooling themselves.\"\n\n\"Maybe you can't understand this, but I swear Tristan is different.\"\n\nLuke started laughing, a dark and hollow sound that turned into a sigh after a few moments. \"If he's so angelic, what did he tell you about Bethany? Remember my ex-girlfriend, the one I saw him eating?\"\n\n\"He swore to me that he hasn't had anything but bagged blood in decades. And I believe him. He said he was saving her, closing the wound after Jerome had bitten her.\" Kira shook her head, defiant against the charge. She knew Tristan.\n\n\"And you believe him? Just like that?\" Luke released her hand, swinging away from her in his frustration.\n\n\"I do.\" She stood her ground. If Luke actually got to know Tristan, he would see it too. She knew he would.\n\n\"Kira, you just don't understand. You don't know enough. I've known people who went away to fight vampires and never came back. I've been part of a search party to rescue a Punisher from being held captive and tortured. The world is a much darker place than you realize. And I joke and I make fun because you have to be happy or you won't survive, but there's a different side of things you're just too naïve to see.\"\n\n\"I've seen some things,\" Kira said, lifting her hand away from the chain and letting her palm face the sky. She brought a flame up, small and controlled, and let it dance along her fingers. Throwing a tiny ball of light up in the air, she caught it with her other hand and absorbed the fire back into her skin.\n\n\"I had a vision of my parents' death. I relived it, and I think I know more about the world than you realize.\" Kira stretched her arm out and placed a palm on the fresh cut she had noticed on Luke's bicep. She waited until the skin underneath closed shut, seamlessly melding together, then took her hand away.\n\nHe let out a breath she hadn't realized he had been holding. Kira looked at him, at the freckles that spanned from cheek to cheek and the slightly crooked bend of his nose that was beautiful in its strangeness. Kira noticed the luminescent quality of his hair and finally the flaming irises they both shared, but she saw a difference for the first time. He always looked on with concern and fascination, but now sadness and maybe even defeat rimmed those eyes.\n\n\"What happened in your memory?\" Luke asked.\n\n\"It was like you said about the conduit societies. I was a baby and I was playing around with my power, trying to control it and make my parents smile. But then we were jumped by vampires and they were killed while I hid under a bush, powerless to stop anything.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Luke said and reached for the hand Kira had let dangle beside her swing. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to act indifferent, as if the past was just that, in the past. But his hand was warm in hers, keeping her connected to real life, and she appreciated it. \"How'd you remember? Or did you dream it?\"\n\n\"It was Jerome and John actually,\" Kira said. She continued to hold onto his hand, which now seemed more like a lifeline, and then told him about what had happened. How John and Jerome had almost killed that girl, about Diana's sudden appearance, and a little bit about her afternoon with Tristan and his history. Luke listened quietly—his morose frown slowly replaced by worried stress lines.\n\n\"I don't like it,\" he finally said. \"Revenge is the worst kind of evil.\"\n\n\"But Tristan said it would be fine, that Diana wouldn't be able to do anything to make him go bad.\" Luke nodded absently, but Kira could tell his thoughts were wandering into ominous territory. \"What? What is it you're not telling me?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" Luke said, still half-aware.\n\n\"Come on,\" Kira said and jerked on his hand, almost pulling him from the swing, but at least gaining his attention.\n\n\"It's just, Tristan might not have a choice. Conduit blood, it's like a drug to vampires. It makes them go crazy.\"\n\n\"But he would never bite me,\" Kira said dubiously, flashing back to the moment in the gym when she had been cut and all of the fighting had ceased—even Tristan had been totally distracted by her blood, and, for a second, had become completely animalistic because of it. When Diana smeared some on his lips, he couldn't resist taking a taste.\n\n\"Willingly, no. But, what if it's not in his control?\"\n\n\"How could they do that?\" Kira twisted in her swing, coiling the chains and facing Luke. \"I have my powers now. They can't surprise me anymore. I'll fry them.\"\n\n\"All I'm saying is that they have a plan, or at least the start of one. And it involves you, and Tristan eating you, and some factor we don't see yet. This is serious, and we need to prepare somehow.\"\n\nKira sighed and turned slowly in a circle, winding the chain holding the swing a few more times. She lifted her feet off the ground to let her chair unravel, and spun around, bouncing from side to side, done with these dark conversations that seemed to be creeping further and further into her life. When the world was a blur of green grass, blue sky, and sunlight streaking past her eyes, unidentifiable except for the array of colors, she felt much more at peace, like a carefree child. All the worries seemed to slip away when there was nothing to focus on but the wind in her hair and the dizzying of her brain.\n\nWhen the twirling stopped, Kira looked at Luke, who watched her with a slight smile finally showing on his features. She let her feet fall to the wood chips, took a few steps back to gain some leverage and then released, surging forward. Kira pumped her feet, using her arms for extra power, and propelled herself forward with every lean back and thrust of her legs.\n\nLuke began to swing next to her, catching up to her height quickly with his longer legs. Their clothes fluttered in the breeze and Kira's hair flew all around her. Her butt jumped off the seat as she started beating gravity's pull, just for a moment, and Kira felt like a kid again, when she was so young that she thought she could swing high enough to flip over the bar and even gain wings, like a fairy.\n\nFinally, the time came when Kira knew she couldn't go any higher. She pulled her forearms and shins in, racing backward one more time, and then gravity shoved her forward. Leaning back, she stretched her feet out, and let go of the swing. The seat slid out from underneath her as she catapulted forward, flying through the air while her limbs flailed ungracefully, until the ground seemed to rise up and smack against her feet. She rolled forward, falling onto the grass beyond the wood chipped corral while dead leaves crunched into her hair.\n\nKira turned her head, watching Luke as he landed beside her with a thud and a somersault. Then they both started laughing.\n\n\"I haven't done that in years,\" Kira said as she stared at the sky. She watched the clouds blow by, changing from marshmallow white to smoky ebony to brilliant gold as they passed in front of the sun.\n\n\"Me neither. I think I can wait another ten years before trying it again though. I can actually feel a massive bruise growing on my butt right now.\" Luke groaned and rolled over onto his stomach.\n\n\"Home?\" Kira said, wondering if they had talked about Tristan enough, hoping Luke had all the answers he needed for the moment.\n\n\"Home,\" Luke said and slowly stood up. He leaned over Kira, grabbing the hand she offered, and pulled her from the ground's clutches. She dusted the dirt and squashed leaves from her clothes, and followed him to the car.\n\nThe ride home was safe. They steered clear of vampire related topics and instead talked about their friends and the holidays. Every time Kira looked over at Luke, she knew he was only half-present. He was her guardian and her friend, and she knew he must be worried about her safety, but Kira couldn't think of anything else she could do.\n\nAs they turned the corner onto her street, Luke slammed on the brakes and Kira's head almost flew through the front windshield because she had tucked the strap of her seatbelt behind her back.\n\n\"Luke! What the hell?\" She whipped around to berate him, but noticed the hard look in his eyes. Turning slowly, she followed his line of vision as it trailed right to the steps of her front porch where Tristan casually sat against the rail.\n\nKira's pulse raced at the sight of him. The whites of his eyes reflected the headlights and seemed to glow, while the rest of him, dressed in dark jeans and a black T-shirt, melted into the night. He saw the car and gracefully stood up, like a panther easing out of a nap. Kira smiled at him, feeling giddy, before twisting back around to say her goodbye to Luke.\n\nHe, she noticed, was not smiling at all. Instead, he had a viselike grip on the steering wheel, one that was stopping the circulation to his fingers. His stare was so forceful, Kira feared beams of sunlight would burst from his pupils and melt his front windshield.\n\n\"Luke?\"\n\nHe twisted his hands around the wheel and the leather whined in protest. His entire body had tensed up, and Kira noticed the bulge of muscles under his long-sleeve shirt.\n\n\"Luke?\" Kira hesitantly extended her hand, barely touching his shoulder before he snapped his attention to her, still stiff, and now with bloodshot eyes from the strain of not blinking.\n\n\"Look, Kira, I tried to be a good friend and stay calm, I really did, but how can you be so blind?\" He took his hands from the wheel, running his fingers through his hair, practically ripping the strands from his scalp. \"He's a killer, okay? A killer. It's what they are. Every time he sees you, part of him wants to kill you. Every time. And I know he promised it wouldn't happen, but you're a fool to believe him. An idiot.\"\n\nKira reached for Luke's arms, trying in vain to calm him down. She tried to speak, but he cut her off.\n\n\"No, okay, no. You have to hear this. He lives by drinking human blood. Do you understand? Human blood and human blood, only. And he's going to live forever while you get old and die, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing in this world that will change that. Even if you wanted to become a vampire, you couldn't. There's no need to risk your life dating him when he'll just kill you eventually.\" Luke was yelling now, fogging up the windows with his spat out words. \"Maybe not now, but what about when you're fifty or sixty and he still looks eighteen? What then? When you're old and wrinkled, he'll kill you while you sleep and you won't even know until it's too late because you trust him.\"\n\nHe made the word _trust_ sound dirty, and Kira listened to his heavy breathing, failing to think of any response. The door behind her swung open and Kira jolted backward, into the hardness of what she knew could only be Tristan's chest.\n\n\"While I do love seeing you act like a complete ass, Luke, I've heard enough. I won't just sit here and listen to you talk crap about me. If you want to tell me something, say it to my face or shut up.\"\n\nKira watched Luke grow angrier by the second. She was too afraid to move—too fearful that any action she made would just add fuel to the fire.\n\n\"Kira?\" Tristan asked, and a hand stretch out in front of her, offering escape.\n\n\"Stop.\" Luke grabbed her around the wrist.\n\n_Yup_ , Kira thought, _I'll just stay right here and not move a muscle_. Luke was glaring at a spot just over her shoulder, and based on the tingle prickling her neck, Kira guessed Tristan's face was right about at that spot.\n\nThey sat like that for what seemed like an hour to Kira—a complete standoff—before Luke released her hand. For a futile moment, she thought that he had relented and was going to end the absurdly macho fight. But then he reached for the handle, jumped out of the driver's seat, and sprinted around the front of the car with his hand extended.\n\nKira knew what he was doing before the fire shot from his hand.\n\n\"Luke!\" she shouted to no avail.\n\nTristan was hit right in the chest with the full force of Luke's power. He flew off the ground, sailing through the air to land on his back. Kira knew he could have run away had he wanted to, that the fire was hurting him but was meant to remove him more than to harm him. Still, he let Luke attack, not fighting back, but Kira saw the strain on his features and the taut pull of his lips. She leapt from the car, directly into Luke's flames, and let them absorb into her body.\n\nIt was the first time Kira had absorbed another conduit's power. She felt alive, electrified from the tips of her toes to the strands of hair on her head. She let his power funnel into her, felt it spread throughout her limbs and warm her, and Kira almost began to feel like she was pulling the power from Luke rather than he pushing it into her.\n\n\"Luke, stop. Someone might see. You have to stop.\"\n\nHe waited a second, full of internal struggles and rage, before ending his onslaught.\n\n\"Listen to me,\" Kira said, silencing him by covering his lips with her hand when he started to protest. \"No, listen. This thing with Tristan is something I have to do. I know you don't understand it, I know you hate it, but I need you to respect me and my decisions, and leave him be.\" She released Luke's mouth, but he remained silent.\n\nKira stepped back, forming a triangle between the three of them, looking from one boy to the other. \"This goes for both of you, no fighting. None at all, or I will figure out something really terrible to do to both of you. So just stop. I'm not some toy to fight over. I make my own choices and nothing will change that. So, Luke, just go home.\"\n\nA series of emotions fluttered across Luke's face, from anger toward Tristan, to embarrassment over his own actions, to what Kira dared say was apologetic for her sake. Regardless, he silently walked to the other side of his car, hopped in, and drove away without looking back.\n\n\"Well, now that he's gone...\" Tristan supplied, and Kira faced him, noting the smug smile as he sauntered over and tried to hug her.\n\n\"Hold on.\" She put her palm against his chest, stopping him. \"Thank you for not fighting him or running away, but you can't taunt him either, which you know perfectly well was your intention when you opened the car door.\" He had the decency to look guilty. \"Promise?\"\n\n\"Promise,\" he murmured, looking like a little boy whose favorite video game had just been taken away. But then his features brightened. \"Care to seal it with a kiss?\"\n\nKira's insides felt like mush instantly. Her annoyance melted away to make room for the butterflies now flying in her stomach. She reached up and kissed him on the lips, ending it too soon because she was afraid her parents would walk outside at any moment after all of the commotion.\n\n\"What did you come over for anyway?\" she questioned, all of the sudden curious to know why he had been waiting outside her house.\n\n\"I saw you and Luke leave. I just wanted to see how everything went. Clearly, not all that well.\"\n\nKira shrugged. \"Until about ten minutes ago, things were going great.\" She presented him with a wry smile, but he became suddenly alert and jerked his head toward her house.\n\n\"Your mom is about to come outside.\"\n\nKira's eyes widened and she pushed him away. \"Hide!\"\n\nA moment later, the front door creaked open. \"Kira, honey? Is that you?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Mom.\" Kira walked closer to the house and out of the darkness. \"I'm just making a phone call, be right in.\"\n\nHer mother nodded, concern flashing in her features, before retreating back inside the house.\n\n\"Movie?\" Tristan asked from somewhere beyond Kira's sight. She nodded, because what else could you do if a really hot guy asked to watch a movie with you in your bedroom? Kira knew he would sneak in silently, using all the speed and agility he could, and she prayed there were no stray pairs of underwear decorating the floor when he got there.\n\nChapter Fourteen\n\nThe next few weeks passed quickly for Kira.\n\nShe and Tristan continued to date in secret, meeting at the beach or some private place from his past that he wanted to share with her. They picnicked at an old lighthouse that was almost broken down and ready to be demolished, but had an amazing view of the ocean. He snuck into her room after her parents went to sleep so they could lay in each other's arms and whisper sweet nothings. Kira was coming to love the way his eyes softened when they met hers, how he would gently brush her cheek with his thumb, holding her face as though it were the most fragile thing in the universe. He shared his travels with her, the years he spent in Europe, his impressions of English accents, how frightened he had been on his first African safari before he realized he could do more damage to the animals than they could to him.\n\nAnd most of all, Tristan shared his art, the most personal part of him. He had sold most of it throughout the years, but he showed Kira some of his favorites——models in Paris, architecture from Russia, the natural beauty of the American West, and best of all, his family and the friends he had met along the way. Each drawing held a different story, a different facet of Tristan. Kira could tell which aspect of his personality fit with each work of art, and it was more intimate than talking could have ever been.\n\nSometimes, Kira wished she could let Luke in on some of these private moments when Tristan seemed more human and more vulnerable than ever. Maybe then he would understand, but ever since the night outside her front yard, Luke hadn't even spoken of Tristan, and Kira wouldn't be the one to break the silence. In school, she stayed around Luke, eating with her friends and pairing up with him in class. If Luke caught her and Tristan swapping secret glances or talking quietly to one another, his features would harden and his eyes would cloud over with frustration. She needed him as her best friend, so she would quickly pull away, only managing to pain Tristan in the process.\n\nLuke continued to train her, teaching her precise control of her powers, like where to aim at a vampire to do the most damage or how to conserve her energy while still firing a deadly shot. She was excited to learn more about her heritage and about the conduit society. But all the while, in the back of Kira's thoughts lurked dark imaginings about Diana and the plan she was concocting.\n\nOne night, when these tumultuous thoughts had kept her from sleep, Kira finally noticed the lump under her bed. She reached down, confused, only to find the old, dusty book she had stolen from Luke but had completely forgotten about. Eager for more information than Luke was sharing, she turned on her reading light and settled into her cushy pillows.\n\nFor an entire week, during her free moments without either boy and in the absence of schoolwork, Kira read nonstop. The first few chapters discussed the history of the conduit society, very similar to what Luke had already told her about the split between the Protectors and the Punishers, how the difference of opinions began, and how a natural genetic mutation formed the two different powers and breeds. The anonymous author discussed different opinions on vampires, whether they had souls or not, and one conduit historian actually believed that those of the ancient society, when the Punishers and Protectors had been one breed like Kira, had special powers of healing and knew the secret to saving a vampire's soul. Kira believed it, even though the other historians in the book discarded the theory, stating, like Luke, that no vampire in history had been saved.\n\nFinally, Kira got to the fourth chapter, all about her kind, the mix that commonly meant chaos and destruction. She turned the page, excited to get cracking, but the chapter was gone. She skipped to the final chapter, about ancient prophecies, and those pages were missing too. The only pieces of evidence that those chapters existed at all were the fringed edges belonging to pages cut cleanly out with scissors or a knife.\n\nKira was furious—she wanted to know what this group of historians gathered under an anonymous title had to say. She felt deep in her soul that something had been revealed about her true calling—not for destruction, but for life. There was something in the prophecies that would help her. She knew it.\n\nSo, even though it was long past midnight, Kira crept down the stairs, through the dark living room of her house, and out the front door. She slid into her car and reversed, not turning her headlights on until she was already down the road and out of the line of sight from her house.\n\nAs she neared Luke's home, Kira slowed, suddenly regretting her rashness and hoping that Luke was awake. She didn't want to bother him over nothing. It was just a book, and she was sure there were other copies available in mint condition.\n\nKira stopped the car, turned off the lights, and sat quietly, totally unsure of what she was doing there, until she noticed a figure walk up Luke's front sidewalk and knock on the door. She was still down the street a little, too far away to be noticed, but also too far away to hear anything or really see anything. But when the porch light turned on and the front door opened, Kira recognized Tristan's tall, muscular build and imagined the shock on Luke's face.\n\nWhen Tristan sauntered inside and the door shut behind him, Kira imagined the shock that must have been displayed on her own face at that moment. _What are the two of them possibly discussing?_ Kira thought, instantly intrigued.\n\nBut then realized there was only one topic Luke would tolerate talking to Tristan about, and that was her safety. Something must have happened with Diana, who had been mysteriously absent for weeks, hidden in the shadows, planning something to ruin the happiness Kira had managed to build.\n\nCarefully opening her door, Kira crept out and traversed the lawn, ducking down to stay hidden. She eased around the house toward a side window that looked into Luke's living room. Her sneakers sank into the muddy, unkempt garden while she lifted her head, just high enough that her eyes could see through the blinds. Kira thanked god for the cover of darkness, because she could see into Luke's house perfectly, but it would be far more of a challenge for Luke or Tristan to notice her.\n\nInside, Tristan leaned against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his typical dark jeans. His eyes darted around the room nervously, and then he straightened as Luke walked in. Seeing Luke's ensemble, Kira couldn't keep in the laugh that escaped. He wore full-on flannel pajama pants and an old Marvel comics T-shirt speckled with holes from overuse.\n\nLuke sat on his couch, not offering Tristan a chair, and Kira felt the tension even through the glass window. They stared at each other, not speaking, until Tristan finally pulled a wooden chair from the dining table and sat opposite Luke.\n\nKira couldn't make out any of their words, but she could tell Tristan was frustrated by the way he kept running his hands through his hair and shaking his head. Luke responded in a similar fashion, concern covering his features as he nodded along to Tristan's words, and then stood up to start pacing around the room as he sipped what Kira imagined was hot coffee.\n\nTheir movements became more animated as the conversation progressed, and at one point, Luke gripped the back of his couch with both hands and shouted what Kira assumed was a very bad four letter word in Tristan's direction. He in turn stood up, pointed at himself, then outside, and then spread his arms wide like some sort of act of surrender. Luke started pointing aggressively at the door, jerking his whole body and Tristan moved like lightning, running from Luke's house before Kira even had time to go inside and demand to know what was happening, something she had planned to do when the conversation seemed less heated.\n\nNow it was too late, so she settled for talking to Luke alone, and she knocked on the window to get his attention, standing fully upright so he could see her. Kira watched as he noticed her, cursed, rolled his eyes, and headed for the door.\n\n\"Kira, you have unbelievable timing,\" he said when he opened the door.\n\nShe shrugged, smiled, and replied, \"It's one of my many charms.\"\n\nHe shook his head, led her inside, and disappeared into the kitchen to make her some coffee too.\n\nWhen Luke emerged, Kira got straight to the point. \"So, what just happened? And don't even try to pretend like it was normal to have Tristan come over to 'hang out'.\" Kira made air quotations around the word, emphasizing how ridiculous of an explanation it would be.\n\n\"Relax, I was going to call you tonight as soon as he left, but you were already here.\" He sat down next to her on the couch and leaned all the way back, releasing a long exhale as his head came to a rest. Luke rubbed at his eyes and pressed the skin along his nose, letting another sigh escape. \"Their plan is so obvious, I can't believe I didn't see it. Kira...\" He turned to look at her finally, with a pained expression. \"It will be all my fault if something happens to you. I should have seen this. And I yelled at Tristan, but I'm really just angry with myself.\"\n\nKira reached for his hand, holding his warm fingers, trying to give some comfort. \"Luke, what is it? What did Tristan say?\" He tightened his grip.\n\n\"When we're young, conduits are taught our one major weakness. It's something out of our control, but we need to be aware of it, always, that's one of the rules you do not forget, and I did.\"\n\n\"Luke, just tell me.\" Kira was dying from the not knowing. Finally, the fears she had pushed to the back of her mind during these few weeks of blissful oblivion were coming to the forefront. She didn't want to see Diana ever again, didn't want to face her, especially if Luke was this scared too.\n\n\"A total eclipse. That's the only thing that can take our powers away. Being in the eye of a full eclipse makes the sun inaccessible and makes us vulnerable to a vampire's attack. We lose all our strength. And, Kira...\" He grabbed her shoulders, driving the point home. \"The eclipse is today.\"\n\nHis hands dropped away and Kira's entire body slumped back against the couch. She felt as though all the life had been knocked out of her. _Today?_ She thought. Suddenly, time began to slip through her fingers like sand, when there had been buckets of it just moments ago.\n\n\"What do we do?\" Her voice came out like a whisper, nearly silent and completely foreboding.\n\nLuke abruptly stood up. \"Let's leave, right now. We'll drive for a few hours—get out of the eye of the eclipse. Diana won't be able to touch you.\" He grabbed her arm, trying to pull her along.\n\n\"No,\" Kira said, resisting. \"Luke, think for a moment. I have a family, my parents, Chloe. They would be defenseless. I can't abandon them.\"\n\nHe sank back down. \"You're right.\"\n\n\"How much time do we have?\" Kira asked. She assumed it was around three, maybe four, in the morning. The sun would rise in a few short hours.\n\n\"About eight or nine hours. It's supposed to happen around midday, a pure total solar eclipse. They only last for about fifteen minutes, and we will only totally lose our powers for maybe five minutes, but that's more than enough time for a vampire to kill you.\"\n\n\"So, how do we fight? Do we even have a chance to stand against Diana?\"\n\nLuke shook his head and bit his lip, hiding the sadness in his eyes. \"I don't know. Tristan didn't know what her plan was—he just sensed her and the others in the area. He knew they were up to something, and then we both realized the eclipse at the same time. It's what they've been waiting for, why they've taken so long to move into action. And Tristan has got to be part of their plan.\"\n\nKira grabbed her phone and dialed his number—straight to voicemail. She tried again, hoping it had been a mistake, but the same thing happened. \"He's not answering his phone. Do you think they took him? Are they hurting him?\" Luke just shook his head. Neither one of them had any answers.\n\nKira's eyes wandered around the room, hoping the answers were written on the wall somewhere, but stopping when they came to rest on her handbag. The book, she realized, the whole reason why she came here. It seemed stupid now, learning about mystical prophecies as if some ancient conduits had all the answers, but Kira realized she didn't know how much time she would have left to ask Luke about it. And even when the end of her life seemed horribly near, she was curious about those damn missing pages.\n\n\"Luke?\" He gave her his attention as she pulled the old book from her open purse. \"It seems silly now, but I stole this and I wanted to give it back, and ask—\"\n\n\"Ask about the missing pages? I actually thought you'd notice it sooner. You stole the book a while ago,\" he interrupted. She shrugged her eyebrows and half-smiled at him, hoping he wasn't actually angry she took it. \"They're all missing.\"\n\n\"Huh?\" Kira questioned, not understanding.\n\n\"The councils from each conduit society met one year and decided that knowledge was no longer useful, so they cut the pages from every copy of that book and burned them. I have no idea what they said. No one does, this happened a long time ago—two hundred years ago maybe.\"\n\n\"But why?\"\n\n\"The rumor was that there had been uprisings, across both the Punisher and Protector societies, urging for a reunited race, and the councils overturned it. They believed the prophecies were egging people on and giving them false hopes. But all of that is just hearsay now.\"\n\nInstantly, Kira's curiosity was further piqued. What did that book say about mixed breeds that would lead to a revolt? It must have been something huge, something that could change everything. Maybe it had been about her ability to heal humans and conduits, surely a power any vampire fighter would want to have. But the price of potentially giving a vampire total immunity was too dangerous.\n\n\"Kira?\" Luke distracted her from those thoughts. \"I need to call the council. They'll know how to proceed. Why don't you go home for a while? Have breakfast with your family?\"\n\nFear darkened his eyes, even though Luke was trying so hard to hide it. He worried that this could be her last meal. Kira knew he wanted to run, that he didn't care about her family as much as he cared about her, but when Kira thought of sweet, innocent Chloe, she knew there was no other option. She hugged Luke, pulling him in tight enough to lose her breath in the process, and closed her eyes against the emotion threatening to brim over. There was no time left for tears.\n\nKira drove home quickly, ignoring stop signs and racing past the speed limit. Suddenly, being home was the most important thing in the world. She knew Luke wouldn't sleep, that he would be working on a solution for all the time they had left. He was going to meet her at her house at eleven, an hour before the eclipse. Plenty of time to sit and wait and be terrified together. She hated pulling him into this. It was her fight with Diana. Luke had done nothing to deserve any part of the scorn, but she knew there was no way to stop him. He would never let her go down alone.\n\nAfter she parked, Kira tried to slow her racing heart. Her parents couldn't know anything was wrong. She wanted them to live in blissful oblivion. _There is time_ , she kept thinking, _enough time to work out a solution_. The answer would come eventually. All she could hope now was that Tristan was working on a plan of his own and was trying to save her as well. Kira feared his plan was to confront Diana before she could confront Kira, but deep down Kira knew it wouldn't work. Three-to-one odds were too large, and Tristan had probably been caught already.\n\nThe sky was lightening when she finally went inside. Kira could only sit in the car and ruminate for so long. Being afraid was no way to spend the potentially last few hours of her life. So she went inside, straight to the kitchen. Cooking always calmed her, and Kira grabbed the pancake mix from the pantry, cracked open some eggs, and let the serenity of whisking distract her.\n\nWhen her mother walked down the stairs, Kira had a feast ready. Stacks of fluffy pancakes, bowls of fresh whipped cream, candied berries of all kinds, and freshly squeezed orange juice decorated the table. She had gone a little overboard, Kira knew it, but she was also extremely satisfied with the way everything turned out.\n\n\"Kira, my goodness. What are you even doing awake?\"\n\n\"I just couldn't sleep.\" Kira shrugged, feigning indifference, and pulled out a chair for her mom. Not a second later, thumps signaled her dad was descending into the kitchen too.\n\n\"Smells amazing, honey. What's the occasion?\" her father asked, sitting down next to her mother to dig into the food.\n\n\"Nothing, I just couldn't sleep. Can't a girl do something nice for her family once in a while?\"\n\n\"Not on a school day. This is more of a Sunday morning thing for you,\" her dad said with a mouth already full of food. Kira assured him she was just in a good mood and happy for the amazing, even if adoptive, parents she had. They talked lightly while they ate, until Kira's mother went to wake up Chloe. Within half an hour, Kira was hugging everyone goodbye, holding on for just a second too long, and assuring her parents that she was just going to quickly clean up and be on her way to school.\n\nWhen the door closed, Kira raced back to the kitchen, splashed water on her face, and tried her best not to cry. She leaned over the sink, one hand on either side, looking out at her sunlit backyard and decided to just let the tears come anyway. Once started, they were impossible to control. She moved slowly, picking up the dirty dishes, putting them in the dishwasher, finishing the orange juice, and putting the leftovers in a Ziploc bag. The mundane tasks gave her something to concentrate on, but when they were done, she went up to her room and actually put her focus on what would happen.\n\nDiana would come and attack her. That was certain. That Kira would not be able to stop her for what might as well be hours was another certainty. The only unknown was Tristan. Had Diana managed to turn him? Would he come looking for her blood or Diana's?\n\nKira sighed and reached for the drawings of his she had kept hidden in her bookshelf. All were of her. She had a collection of these portraits now. Kira looked through them until she reached the one Tristan had crafted when he had been secretly watching her in Battery Park. She took note of the flowing skirt and tank top she had worn and searched for them in her closet. She opted for a long-sleeve shirt instead, because even in South Carolina, December brought cool air.\n\nOn the drive home from Luke's, Kira had tried to think of a game plan, and like a typical girl, the outfit was a huge part of that. Would she go hardcore like Buffy the Vampire Slayer in nineties cargo pants and a tank top, maybe with a bomber jacket? Would she play it innocent to make Diana think of her as helpless and maybe gain some small upper hand? Or, would she appeal to Tristan and the human parts of him she knew existed? He was her last hope. Unless Tristan could fight Diana, Kira knew she was doomed, so she decided to wear the same thing she had worn when they had shared their first kiss and when he had first decided to open up to her and to let her inside his secret world.\n\nBy the time Kira had finished brushing her hair and getting ready, Luke had arrived. He came dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, deciding to downplay the situation just like she had. Kira tried to change her morose mood, but when she saw his face and the worry lines creasing his forehead, she allowed herself to be sad.\n\n\"What did the council say?\" Kira asked as she led Luke through her house and out to the back steps where they had decided to wait for Diana to make her move.\n\n\"They said we should run. Ordered it in fact, because of how dangerous your capture would be. I told them to go to hell.\"\n\nKira laughed. Luke always had been a charmer. \"I bet they loved that.\"\n\n\"Actually, I hung up as they were screaming at me. Assuming we survive, we'll definitely have some things to answer to.\"\n\n\"No point to live if not dangerously,\" Kira replied as she sat down to wait.\n\n\"When did that become your motto?\"\n\n\"About the time I moved to Charleston.\" Kira let her tone become darkly humorous. Had she listened to Luke in the beginning, none of this would be happening. But it still all seemed worth the risk. She knew Tristan would be trouble from the start, but she guessed with boys, you never really could know how much trouble until it was too late and you loved them enough not to care about the consequences.\n\n\"If you could take it all away and go back to New York, would you?\" Luke shifted his gaze from one of her eyes to the other, earnestly searching for the truth in her answer.\n\n\"No. I suppose I would have been a target no matter where I was. At least, down here in South Carolina, I had you.\"\n\n\"Have, you have me.\" He reached out his hand.\n\nKira squeezed it, letting him know she loved his support, but then released him. \"I wish you would go and save yourself Luke. We don't know what's going to happen here, and I don't want you to die for me. Please, just go.\"\n\n\"You know I won't.\" He settled down, stretching his hands up toward the sky, acting brave and like he had no worries in the world.\n\nAnd just like that, there were no words left to say. Kira knew Luke loved her, and he knew she loved him too. She could beg him to leave and fall into hysterics, but it would be useless and mentally draining. So instead, the two of them sat in silence, watching the sun rise higher, waiting for it to disappear.\n\nChapter Fifteen\n\nBefore long, Kira heard a rustling in the trees. Luke did too and he sat up from the hammock, instantly alert. They moved as one person to the edge of her porch, four hands resting on the white painted banister, searching the woods at the back of her house for any movement.\n\nOut of thin air, Diana appeared in the middle of her yard. She was dressed in a sequined, black party dress, one that reminded Kira of the pictures she'd seen of flappers in her history books. Her black hair flowed freely in the breeze, and her skin was like harsh marble, starkly white in the sunlight. Her sudden appearance struck Kira more like a magic trick than a natural movement. She had little experience with the special powers vampires possessed, and Diana seemed faster than even the wind. Luke's muscles tensed beside her. Diana was far quicker than they could hope to be, but Kira knew a lot of it was for show, to intimidate her and Luke before the real fight even began.\n\n\"My dearest little Kira, how are you on this fine winter's morning?\" The words rolled from Diana's tongue. She knew she had complete control over the situation, and she lazily walked forward, trying to stir fear in Kira's heart.\n\n\"Diana,\" Luke said tersely. Kira remained silent, not wanting to give Diana the satisfaction of a response.\n\n\"Well, what a welcome. I hardly think you're even excited to see me.\"\n\n\"What gave us away?\" Luke let the biting remark out evenly. Kira recognized his self-defensive sarcasm and used it to give her strength. She would resist for as long as possible, just like Luke planned to do.\n\nKira let a small flame rise on her palm, letting her power heal any weakness Luke and she carried, before firing it at lightning speed toward Diana's face. It struck before Diana had time to move, and she was thrown backward as if punched. Kira let herself have a moment of satisfaction. She and Luke knew some cool tricks, too.\n\nDiana stood slowly, her hand to her cheek and malice in her eyes. Kira watched her battle to keep her emotions in check, and Diana's weakness became all too clear. She wanted to draw this out and make Kira suffer. So Kira wanted to make it as quick as possible. She fired another shot, a long stream of fire she knew in her bones was meant to kill. She heard Diana whimper in the onslaught and watched as Diana retreated back into the trees and out of Kira's range.\n\n\"Bitch!\" Diana yelled from the forest. \"Do you have a death wish? I'm here to kill you, you know. Do you really want to egg me on?\"\n\n\"I think I'm the one who almost killed you, Diana. Care to come out for another go?\" Kira found her voice and her defiance. She was ready to fight, eager for it almost.\n\n\"I hope you don't think your boyfriend is going to save you, little Kira.\" Diana rushed out again, her calm demeanor returned but her hair clearly worse for the wear. The imperfection gave Kira a jolt of pleasure.\n\n\"I can handle myself, thanks.\"\n\n\"And what about when you can't spit that little flame of yours and chase me away? What then?\" Kira shrugged, playing it cool, but was actually wondering the same thing herself.\n\nAs if on command, Jerome and John walked out of the forest slowly, with Tristan chained between them. Kira gasped. She couldn't help herself.\n\nTristan was shirtless and covered in blood. The streaks started at various points of his chest and arms, flowing from wounds that had since closed up because of his quick healing. Only another vampire's nails or teeth could have caused that damage. Jerome and John had broken his arms, the same way they had in the auditorium so long ago, and Kira knew they had only been able to catch him with those cheap tricks. They had twisted Tristan's limbs free of their sockets, tying his forearms to the stick they were using to carry him forward. His feet were chained too, but he still tried to put some weight on them, refusing to let his former friends drag him helplessly along the ground. He was trying to be strong, even though his face was the only thing not trapped in constraints.\n\nWhen his eyes met hers, Kira wanted to rush to Tristan. They were full of pain, both physical and emotional, and Kira knew he was killing himself over his failure. He had been her last hope and though she hated to admit it, the will to fight left her a little bit.\n\nDiana saw the opening. \"What? Did you think he would come in and save the day? I told you already, you stupid girl, he is going to kill you, and he is going to like it. Isn't that the promise I made?\"\n\nDiana walked in front of Tristan and held his chin in her hand, forcing him to look at her. With her other hand, she slapped him across the cheek, and Kira heard the crunch of his neck breaking and saw his limbs go fully limp. Jerome and John didn't even flinch. Tristan groaned, trying hard to clench his lips together to keep a scream from escaping. Even vampires could feel pain, especially at the brutality of their own kind.\n\nA minute later, his neck snapped back in line. Diana leaned back for another slap.\n\n\"No!\" Kira yelled. Diana stopped her hand, just barely. More than anything, Kira wanted to throw her fire like a huge blanket, smoldering them, but it was too risky with Tristan so weak and so close to the others.\n\n\"How sweet. A lover's plea.\" Diana clapped like a little child playing with her favorite toy. Everything was working out just as she had planned.\n\nAnd as if on cue, the sky darkened just one shade, but it was enough. All six of them looked up, despite the blinding light, to take note of that small sliver of black piercing the sun's surface. There wasn't much time before her powers would be useless. Five minutes, maybe. Kira started forward, but Luke grabbed her hand, stopping her.\n\n\"You can't save him now. We have to get out of here,\" he whispered.\n\n\"Yes, run. It's so much more exciting that way,\" Diana responded, hearing Luke's request and playing off of his fears. Kira looked up again; already more of the sun had been covered. She needed to use the time she had.\n\nWith all the control Kira could gather, she shot flames at Diana, John, and Jerome and amazingly pushed them back. Jerome and John dropped Tristan in their shock, and Kira broke free of Luke to run to Tristan's side. He managed to get onto his knees and she sunk down to her own, all the while keeping her arm outstretched, creating a wall of flames behind the two of them—one that was weakening with each passing second.\n\n\"I can't hold it for long. Undo the chains now, Tristan!\" She cradled his face with her free hand, trying to split her attention.\n\n\"It's no use. I can't. I've been trying. You have to run, Kira, now, before Diana has the chance to grab you. Go to your car and just start driving as far away as possible.\"\n\nKira shook her head. Tristan opened his mouth to argue, but she covered it with a kiss, breaking it off when her power weakened further. She pulled Tristan into a hug instead, looking past his shoulder at the three cowering vampires waiting for her shield to fall so they could pounce. Kira shifted her gaze to the sky, where the sun was now more than half covered by the black hole of the moon. The earth was being steeped in shadow, and even her light was dimming in the process. Slowly, like a ticking time bomb, the power seeped from her, until finally it winked out.\n\nThe total eclipse had come.\n\n\"I love you,\" was all Kira had time to whisper before hands grabbed her shoulders, throwing her like a rag doll away from Tristan. She landed, hearing the crunch of her ankle as a fierce shot of pain traveled up her spine, and let out a scream. Kira was satisfied that she at least had a moment with Tristan, a small sliver of time to say goodbye and to tell him she loved him. It was the first time those words had passed her lips, and Diana could never take that away.\n\n\"Kira, Kira, Kira,\" Diana purred and stomped her foot down on Kira's chest, holding her to the ground and crushing her. \"You should have listened to them both, because now it's too late to escape.\"\n\nLuke ran over and jumped at Diana, reaching out his hands to strangle her. Diana backhanded him like a fly. He sailed away, smacking into the porch and landing on the ground with a thud. He didn't stir from the spot where he landed, and Kira screamed again. She stared transfixed at his immobile body, flailing her limbs like a mad woman trying to escape Diana's hold. Luke was dying, she was sure of it. She needed to hold him, to help him somehow.\n\nKira used all her strength, but she couldn't budge Diana's foot. It was useless, and instead of helping Luke, she was just hurting herself. Kira prayed, for what seemed like her first true prayer in ages, that Luke was alive—knocked unconscious, but alive.\n\nDiana seemed to sense Kira's fading hope, because she reached down for a fistful of Kira's hair and used it to drag her across the yard, dropping her in front of Tristan. Kira refused to make a sound even though it felt as though her head were ripping free of her body. The pain was excruciating, but even still, she wouldn't let Diana win.\n\nJerome and John were holding Tristan again, but this time Jerome's hand was clenched over Tristan's mouth to stop him from uttering a word.\n\n\"Time's up, Kira,\" Diana whispered.\n\nAnd before Kira could move, Diana's teeth sank into Kira's neck and her blood flowed freely into the vampire's system. She heard the gurgling of her own blood, felt the warm liquid seep down her spine where droplets spilled free of Diana's lips. She heard Tristan struggle and scream protests even through Jerome's hand, but Diana wouldn't stop.\n\n\"Enough.\" Jerome's deep voice startled Kira from the pain and the weakness spreading through her body from blood loss. Diana's head jerked up, freeing Kira. \"The time for games is done. We must use her to fix Tristan.\"\n\n_Fix him?_ Kira thought. _He doesn't want to be evil_!\n\nShe wanted to scream the words at them, but Kira couldn't find the strength to speak. Her limbs felt like butter. They wouldn't do as she commanded, and Diana held her still.\n\nJohn pulled a glass cup from his pocket and Diana took it. Kira barely registered the cool touch against her skin, but when they pulled the cup away a minute later, it was full to the brim with her blood. Jerome reached his hand down, soaking one of his fingers, and licked it clean with a flash of pleasure.\n\nKira's only hope was that they would lose control, that one of them would end her quickly before they had a chance to change Tristan. If all hope was lost for her, she wanted him to at least be spared.\n\nBut as quickly as that thought came, it passed, because John took the cup, jerked Tristan's head back by his forehead and let her blood flow freely into his forcibly opened mouth. Kira saw him struggle, shaking his limbs against the chains, trying desperately to escape, and she wondered if he could fight the pull of her blood. Maybe all this time, Diana had been right—Kira would be Tristan's undoing.\n\nHis body started to slump as the glass emptied. Jerome refilled it, passing it back to John, and this time, Tristan didn't move while it was poured. When the third cup was filled, Tristan strained his head up, arching to get all of Kira's blood, swallowing it willingly, and even in her weakened state, Kira knew a change had occurred.\n\nDiana let Kira fall to the ground and walked over to Tristan's side. They undid his chains and he stood quickly, faster than Kira's eyes could process it. Her blood had strengthened his body. He stretched his arms over his head, the muscles of his stomach flexing with the movement, and he cracked his neck bones before leaning forward to look at Kira. All the fight left Kira's body the moment their eyes met.\n\nTristan was gone.\n\nA sob escaped her lips and tears dropped quickly from her eyes the longer she stared into his, which had become as hard as stone and colder than ice. She had never seen him look at her that way, like less than food, like vermin, even since the first time they had met. His pupils dilated, so the blue of his irises were almost paper thin. His fangs were extended, blood dripped from his lips and he licked it away, smiling the entire time. He hugged Diana, gave her a deep kiss, bit her, and then shoved her away, chuckling at her hurt expression. Quick as a bullet, he ripped Jerome's T-shirt free of his body and used the rag to wipe the blood from his chest.\n\nThen, as an afterthought, Tristan leaned over Kira, licking her open wound. With her blood fresh on his lips, he said, \"Aren't you going to run?\"\n\nKira found the strength to back up. Diana she could handle, Jerome and John she could handle, but this Tristan was more than she could stand. How had her blood changed him so much? He was more than animal. He was evil and she was the reason he had changed. Kira stood, swaying on her woozy feet, trying not to feel stabbing pains in her heart as he laughed at her struggles.\n\n\"Tristan?\" she asked meekly, reaching her hand out as if she could recover some trace of the man she had lost.\n\n\"Yes, honey?\" Tristan smiled, blood staining his white teeth. The word _honey_ felt like a slap in Kira's face.\n\nThe sky confirmed what she felt in her bones. The eclipse was still complete. There would be no refuge in her power. With one last look at Tristan, one final gaze to see if he was acting, one final search of the lines of his face for some sign, Kira turned and ran away from the sound of the man she loved laughing in the face of her death.\n\n\"I'll give you a head start, little Kira,\" Tristan called. She winced as he used the name Diana had condescendingly called her but charged on into the woods beyond her neighbor's backyard, into the darkness where the eclipse had stolen every hint of light that ever previously existed.\n\nKira limped on the ankle she was sure she had broken. With each step, a knife seemed to pierce her leg. She was dizzy from the blood loss and her vision receded, warping into a tunnel, letting her see only the leaves directly in front of her. Kira tripped on tree roots and leaned against giant trunks to stabilize herself. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath before pounding forward again. Self-preservation was all Kira thought about. Her instincts had taken over because her thoughts had become too much to handle. All she could do was concentrate on running as far as she possibly could.\n\nAnd then she heard the cackling—a shrieking, high-pitched noise, right behind her. A finger, one she knew must belong to Diana, poked her back, sending her flying forward, and Kira kept running. A hand gently caressed her cheek, another slapped at her arm, another pulled on her hair, and Kira knew there was no escape. She felt like millions of ghosts were pawing at her, invisible but tangible, and Kira just stopped, tired of all the games, ready to see if this Tristan was so changed that he was willing to kill her.\n\n\"I'm done,\" Kira said to the empty clearing she stood in the middle of, knowing all four of them were close enough to hear. To keep herself going, she had to think of Tristan as a thing. Not as the human she knew, but as the vampire she needed to kill.\n\n\"That's no fun.\" Diana pouted and emerged from the shadows.\n\nA hand clenched down on Kira's shoulder and spun her around. She stared directly into Tristan's face. He fangs popped out and he leaned down to her neck to finish the job. Kira pounded her fists against his chest, trying in vain to hurt him, but he stilled her easily.\n\nKira waited to feel his teeth puncture her skin and drain the life from her. She knew that the real Tristan would never go through with it and hoped he was in there somewhere, fighting the bloodlust her cells had created within him.\n\nHer body involuntarily jerked when instead of teeth, his cheek gently caressed hers and he breathed in the smell of her hair—something he loved to do when they were lying side by side in her bed and he thought she was asleep. Kira bit her lip to keep from smiling. If this was a trick, it was the cruelest one of all, because before she even realized it, Kira let herself believe Tristan had been fooling them all the entire time.\n\nWhen his lips brushed against the sensitive skin just below her ear and she heard him say, \"I love you, too,\" Kira allowed herself to smile.\n\nA moment later, Tristan pushed her to the side to punch the now charging Diana in the face.\n\nKira's legs collapsed and she sank down to the ground, all her strength gone. For the next minute, all Kira could do was watch as Tristan, rejuvenated and fortified by her blood, threw three vampires around like rag dolls. They all ignored Kira, too caught up in their anger at Tristan for tricking them. Thunder sounded every time one of their bodies flew into a tree trunk, snapping the bark and causing the forest to wobble on its foundations.\n\nKira looked up, past the tallest branch, through the swaying leaves, at the sun. An ebony circle covered the suns surface, but a halo of light stretched past the shadow, fighting to touch back down to earth. After the excruciating wait, the few minutes of total eclipse had passed. Kira felt more than saw the moon move a fraction to the side. No visible change had occurred, but with Kira's connection to the sun, everything had altered within her.\n\nWith her hands behind her back, Kira brought a flame to life and used her power to heal her. The electric current raced through her veins, multiplying her blood cells, closing the cuts that streaked across her skin from the branches she had struck while fleeing, reconnecting the bones that had shattered in her ankle. And, most of all, the two little puncture holes at her neck sealed shut without a scar.\n\nKira jumped up, bringing her hands forward, and shot flames at John, who had failed to taste her blood. He would not be immune in the slightest, and quickly, Kira let the stream arch up in the sky and circle down, encasing him from above. For John, there was nowhere to run. Kira stopped paying attention to Tristan's fight, letting John have her full attention. She still lacked the control over using her protective powers versus killing powers, and before Kira knew it, John had collapsed into a pile of burning ash.\n\nKira looked at the sky. There was no evidence of an eclipse anymore. As usual, she had lost track of time when using her powers and she assumed Tristan had kept them away from her. When she turned, Tristan and Diana had hold of each other's necks and were squeezing, racing to see who would be decapitated first.\n\nKira started forward to help Tristan but tripped over the body she hadn't noticed at her feet. Jerome lay still, with a gaping hole in his chest, next to the crushed remains of his heart. Kira stifled a scream and jumped over him to escape the gruesome sight.\n\nDiana squeezed free of Tristan, realizing he would have killed her first, and Kira used the open opportunity to shoot a blaze right at Diana's heart, crushing her against a tree, not letting her escape. Kira wasn't sure if enough time had passed. She feared that Diana's immunity hadn't waned, but Kira's emotions put extra force behind the punch, and Diana had nowhere left to run. The fight was over, but Kira was not playing nice this time. Diana was evil, pure and simple, and evil needed to be destroyed. Kira stepped closer, slowly, until her palm laid flat against Diana's chest, killing her all the faster.\n\n\"You don't want to kill me, Kira.\" Diana forced the words out, struggling to make a sound.\n\n\"Why not? You tried to kill me. You tried to turn my boyfriend against me. You might have killed my best friend. Give me one good reason.\" Kira leaned in with each word, staring into Diana's clear blue eyes, letting her meaning sink in.\n\n\"Your mother is alive, and I know where she is.\"\n\nKira jumped back, too shocked to maintain her control, and in that split second, Diana disappeared.\n\n\"No!\" Kira screamed, trying to run after her. Tristan grabbed her around the waist, picking her up off the ground.\n\n\"It's useless. Don't hurt yourself. Diana has the gift of speed, even I couldn't catch her.\"\n\n\"But, my mother?\" Kira let Tristan hug her close to him.\n\nShe had given up on her parents ever since she learned of their existence, but now Kira felt the loss all over again. She imagined the woman in her vision, with long golden hair that almost sparkled in the sun, and she wanted nothing more than to know her. She still wore the locket and ring around her neck, and even now its weight seemed heavier, seemed to weigh her down, until Kira broke free of Tristan's hold and reached into her shirt to bring it out. She opened the picture, the sole image of her real family, and felt like she had been punched in the gut. That was the most horrendous trick Diana had played, because now Kira would never stop wondering.\n\n\"Come on.\" Tristan lifted Kira up as if she weighed nothing and started walking through the trees back toward her house.\n\n\"Tristan?\" she asked, trying to push thoughts of her mother to the back of her mind. He looked down at her, waiting for the question she had prompted. Hoping it wouldn't hurt him, she said, \"That was all an act, right?\"\n\nHe stopped walking, set her down, and cupped her face in both of his hands. Staring into her eyes, he said, \"I swear it was. I hated every second of it, I promise. Never, ever doubt that. For thirty years, I did evil things under Aldrich's control. All I did there was show you a part of my past that I never wanted to let resurface.\" Tristan wiped her cheeks clean of the salty tears she had let streak down and kissed her softly. \"I love you. If I had lost you, I don't know what I would have done.\"\n\n\"I love you, too.\" Kira reached her arms up around his neck as he picked her up again. They both knew she could walk, but it was much more comfortable this way, she thought as she played with the short hairs at the base of his neck.\n\nWhen they emerged from the forest into the freshly cut but now blood covered grass of her backyard, Kira told Tristan to let her go. She surveyed the damage, wondering how she would clean it up, when she noticed the body, Luke's body, slumped under the porch where he had fallen from Diana's throw. She screamed and threw her hands up to cover the sound as it escaped her mouth.\n\nInstantly, Kira darted forward, dropping to her knees beside him, leaning her ear down to listen for a heartbeat.\n\n\"Tristan, on my god, Tristan! Is he dead? I can't hear his heart. I can't hear his heart.\" Kira was yelling, but she couldn't stop. Tristan forcibly moved her to the side, leaning down, listening.\n\n\"I forgot about him,\" Kira said, hardly understanding herself.\n\nHow had she forgotten about Luke? Her guardian, her best friend, her protector for all of these months? Kira couldn't breathe. She tried to suck in a breath, but she was hyperventilating from the shock. His eyes were closed, and the normally healthy tanned glow of his skin had been replaced by the ash gray now covering his body. She cradled his face in her hands. His body felt warm, but cool compared to the normal heat of a conduit's skin. She pushed open one of his eyelids, but his pupil had rolled back into his skull.\n\n\"Tristan!\" she yelled again, and he sat up, shaking his head.\n\n\"He's not dead yet, but Kira, it'll happen any moment. His heart stopped. I don't know for how long.\"\n\n\"No!\" Kira wailed, and then repeated the word over and over again, cradling Luke in her arms. He couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible.\n\nKira thought of how he jumped on Diana, risking everything to try and help her. She wasn't worth it, she realized, and she hugged him to her, letting tears fall freely.\n\nWithout even meaning to, her whole body began to glow, not just her hands, and Kira encased herself and Luke in her power. Tristan was catapulted away, thrown onto the other side of the yard and Kira kept her eyes closed, chanting, \"No, no, no, no,\" as if it were a prayer.\n\nHer power seeped out and melted into Luke's body. She was draining everything she had into his corpse, her very own life force.\n\n\"Kira!\" she heard Tristan shout, distantly. \"Kira! You're killing yourself. Stop!\"\n\nHands grabbed at her, but she resisted, not allowing anything to move her from Luke. She kept her eyes closed, swaying back and forth, using all of the power she possessed.\n\nTime passed without her realizing and before Kira even had the chance to let her power go, she was long gone. Her body fell back, and hit the ground next to Luke's—burned out, limp and lifeless.\n\nEpilogue\n\nKira's eyes fluttered open, stinging from the unfamiliar sensation of light, and everything was blurry. Slowly, the blobs of color sharpened, becoming more defined, and Kira recognized her mother's face. Her lips were moving. Kira tried to force her ears to register the sound. She felt as though she was underwater, that a barrier was catching the sound waves, until it finally broke.\n\n\"Kira, oh Kira, my baby.\" Her mother was crying, holding her by the shoulder and searching for recognition in Kira's eyes.\n\n\"Mom? What happened? Where am I?\" Kira looked around at the sterile walls, the get well balloons in the corner, the beeping and blinking machines with tubes sticking into her arms, at her hospital gown, and started to remember. She sat upright. \"Where's Luke? Is he all right? And Tristan?\"\n\n\"Calm down, honey. Everything is fine.\" Her mother hugged Kira close and ran her fingers through Kira's curly and probably knotty hair.\n\nImages from that afternoon flashed through Kira's brain at a mile a minute—Luke running at Diana, Tristan drinking her blood, Diana laughing in her face, Jerome's body mutilated on the ground, John burning to ash, Tristan whispering that he loved her, and Luke's crumpled body on the ground.\n\nIt was all too much. She felt dizzy and leaned back against the pillows while her mother called in the doctors and sent for her father and sister. The rest of her morning and afternoon was spent being pushed from room to room in a wheelchair and performing different tasks or enduring different procedures to make sure her neural functioning was completely normal. Chloe sat on her lap, enjoying the ride and making fun of the silly outfits and robes the doctors were wearing. When the procedures were finished, Kira forced her family to leave her side to go eat dinner, not allowing them to settle for hospital food. She asked them to bring back leftovers and let a nurse take over her care.\n\nWhen the nurse finally rolled Kira back to her room, she had a visitor waiting. Tristan. Kira tried to stand to hug him, but he ran to her side almost before she had the chance to move. His arms encircled her, pulling her up to a standing position. His lips kissed her neck sweetly while he smelled her hair. His mouth widened into a smile and she leaned back, staring into his soulful blue eyes that were searching hers for recognition and love. Kira grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss.\n\nThe nurse left in a hurry, with a little cough and an \"excuse me,\" making Kira laugh against Tristan's lips. She let her fingers sift through his silky black hair, and they pressed their foreheads together, sitting in the most comfortable silence she had ever experienced. They loved each other and it was obvious even without words.\n\n\"Sorry to break up the moment—\"\n\n\"Luke!\" Kira had turned around, reaching her arms out for a hug before he had the chance to finish. He gripped her around the waist, lifting her up off the ground before setting her down and helping her back onto her hospital bed. Tristan sat beside her, grabbing her left hand, and Luke leaned on the mattress to her right.\n\nKira looked from one boy to the other—her two loves—one friendly and one romantic, but both meaning the world to her.\n\n\"So...what happened?\" Kira looked over at Luke. \"The last thing I remember is trying to heal you. I thought you'd died.\" She had to grin now, happy beyond belief that he was all right.\n\n\"You healed me, maybe even brought me back to life. But, you almost killed yourself.\" He looked down at her, concern clouding his features. \"And when I sat up, Tristan was leaning over you, shouting your name, but you weren't responding. We rushed you to the hospital and you've been in a coma ever since.\"\n\n\"How long?\" Kira looked from one boy to the other.\n\n\"About three months,\" Tristan said and squeezed her hand in comfort.\n\nKira's body slackened in the cushions as she thought about that. It felt like she had been asleep for a while, like taking a really long nap, but three months? That was a long time.\n\n\"Are you guys friends yet?\" she questioned, hoping three months of worrying about her might have done the trick. Luke and Tristan stared across her bed, sizing one another up, and finally Tristan replied, turning to Kira.\n\n\"I think we've come to an understanding.\"\n\nKira smiled. It was something. She asked about everything she had missed, about Emma and the boys, about school in general, and about her family. Tristan and Luke told her stories, all three of them smiling and laughing together, and a warm glow started inside of her, not from power, but from pure happiness.\n\nAfter a while, a doctor told them visiting hours were almost over for non-family members, and Kira knew her own family would be back from dinner soon.\n\n\"Before I go,\" Luke said, poking his head through the door he had just vacated. \"I just wanted to let you know that the council semi-forgave us, but they want you to visit Sonnyville with me...immediately. Okay, bye.\"\n\nLuke jumped out before Kira could even mutter a protest. _Coward_ , she thought. He knew she had no interest in the council, but she guessed seeing the conduit society could be interesting.\n\n\"What do you think?\" she asked Tristan, liking how he rubbed her palm with his thumb while they held hands.\n\n\"It's probably inevitable,\" he sighed. If she went to the conduit society, he would not be able to see her or visit her for a long time.\n\n\"Well, there's still plenty of time to figure it out.\" Kira pulled on his arm so he would lie down next to her. Seeing Luke had been great, but having some intimate moments with Tristan out of Luke's watchful eye was amazing.\n\nTristan's fingers trail down her arm, dancing light circles on her soft skin, tickling her a little. Kira hugged her arm around his waist, turning to mold her body to his and resting her head on his chest to listen to the gentle thud of his heart.\n\nHer thoughts shifted back to the fight. Kira couldn't forget what Diana had taunted, that her real mother might still be alive. And she didn't want to imagine what sort of hell she had been living in all these years, probably trapped in a dungeon, the feeding toy of an evil vampire. Kira silently vowed to hunt Diana down and get the truth. She would find her mother and she would free her mother, no matter how many vampires she had to kill along the way to do it.\n\nAs if sensing her dark thoughts, Tristan started to hum a tune quietly in her ear. Kira recognized the jazz song. He had made her listen to it in the car one time, promising Kira she would fall in love with the sounds. She didn't love the song, but she loved Tristan and she loved the sound of his voice, a deep tenor that reminded her of rolling waves. Kira let her body relax and drift off into a deep sleep, content to push all thoughts of the future aside for the moment, to lie safely in the arms of her lover.\n\n###\n\nBonus Scenes!\n\nJoin Kaitlyn's newsletter to receive three exclusive _Ignite_ bonus scenes told from both Luke and Tristan's perspectives! What was Luke thinking the moment he met Kira? How does Tristan remember his daring rescue by the sea?\n\nJust visit the link below and sign up for the newsletter to find out!\n\nbit.ly/KaitlynDavisNewsletter\n\n###\n\n**Simmer (Midnight Fire Book Two) is available now wherever eBooks are sold!**\n\nKeep reading for a preview of the first chapter!\n\nDescription\n\n\"Slowly, like a whisper almost blown away in the wind, two words streaked across her mind. Kiss me.\"\n\nKira may have survived the eclipse, but her troubles are far from over. She's headed to Sonnyville with one goal in mind: to learn more about her parents. But with Luke and Tristan competing for her heart and Diana gunning for her head, time is running out on the search for her mother. And the closer Kira gets to answers, the more terrified she becomes. The conduits fear her, the vampires fear her, and Kira is starting to wonder if maybe they're right...\n\n### Chapter One\n\n\"I hate packing,\" Kira whined and collapsed onto the heap of clothes piled high on her bed. She did not want to move another muscle.\n\n\"Just pick out some outfits.\" Tristan chuckled, not looking up from the pad of paper he was scribbling on.\n\nKira arched her head, glancing in his direction. He sat with one leg outstretched and one knee bent, leaning against her headboard in relaxed concentration. With squinted eyes, he focused on rubbing in the graphite pencil marks he had just made with his already blackened fingers. If she wasn't so tired, Kira would have crawled a little closer to see what he was drawing, but instead she dropped her head with a sigh.\n\n\"Easy for you to say. You just have to sit on my bed looking all artistic and mysterious while I run around like a crazy person trying to get ready for two months at conduit boot camp.\"\n\n\"Then my plan is working perfectly.\" He smirked and finally put the sketchbook down. Kira peeked over at the pages, wondering what image of her he was crafting, but saw the last thing she ever expected—a self-portrait. Fighting her exhaustion, Kira jumped up in curiosity.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" She spun the image to look at it closer, noting the strong cheekbones and crystal eyes he had drawn perfectly. The hairs that always threatened to fall over his eyes seemed just ready to spill, and Kira saw the faint outline of her own features. She realized he had been sketching both of them.\n\n\"Just something for you to take to Sonnyville, to carry around and show everyone, especially any guys ages eighteen to twenty-two.\"\n\nKira rolled her eyes. \"You know I don't date men who are younger than a hundred. I can't stand the immaturity level.\"\n\nTristan grabbed her hand and pulled her against his chest, making her giggle. With her arms wrapped around his waist, she let her breath slow to the pace of his heartbeat. Tristan's strong arms encircled her, hugging her as tightly against his body as he could, and he sighed.\n\n\"I'm going to miss you,\" he whispered, and Kira's mouth widened into a smile. She rested her chin on his chest so she could look into his face, taking in each hair on his head and memorizing the features she already knew better than her own.\n\n\"I'm going to miss you, too.\" She leaned up and kissed him quickly, her thoughts already wandering to what lay ahead.\n\nA few months had passed since Kira had woken up from the coma. Luke had convinced the council to let her recuperate before forcing her to go to Sonnyville, and they all agreed that the day after graduation would be, what Kira liked to call, doomsday. Just this morning, she and her friends had all donned their robes and received their diplomas. And before she knew it, time had all but slipped away. But more than anything, Kira dreaded saying goodbye to Tristan. Luke had promised to sneak him into Sonnyville at least once, but Kira wasn't sure if it would even be a good idea to bring Tristan around so many conduits. Tomorrow morning they would have to say goodbye, and even though Kira knew it wasn't goodbye forever, two months was starting to seem like an impossibly long time apart.\n\n\"It's going to be fine,\" Tristan said and kissed her forehead. \"And you'll be safe there, which is the most important thing.\"\n\n\"I know. I just wish it wasn't for so long. Do you think you'll be able to find Diana soon?\" Kira questioned, bringing up the topic they had skirted around for the past few weeks.\n\nTristan knew Diana was still a threat. She had come back to Charleston multiple times while Kira had still been in a coma. She managed to evade Tristan, but he still sensed her presence and both of them knew that she was planning something. But neither Kira nor Tristan had known what, until about a week ago when a pack of vampires came to Charleston after hearing a rumor that a mixed breed conduit was alive and in the neighborhood. Tristan had managed to persuade them, forcefully, to leave but more would come. The safest place for Kira was with the conduits, not with her vampire boyfriend, especially since Tristan would be off hunting Diana while Kira was away.\n\n\"I know where to look. She can only run for so long.\" Tristan tried to reassure Kira. He ran his hand along her arm in a soothing motion. Kira relaxed into his touch.\n\n\"And you'll find out about my mother?\"\n\n\"I'll try,\" Tristan said, but he wouldn't look her in the eye. They had had this conversation before, with Luke too, and Kira was the only one with hope that her mother was still alive. Luke and Tristan agreed that Diana had used it as a dirty trick to shock Kira, giving her the chance to escape, but Kira felt something deep inside, a gut instinct urging her to believe that her mother was living and breathing somewhere on this earth.\n\nKira opened her mouth to say so, but decided against it. She was too comfortable resting in his arms to bother fighting, and the last thing Kira wanted was to argue with Tristan on their last night together. Instead, she inched up his chest, noting the glint in his eye and leaned in for a kiss.\n\nHe slid his hand up her back to cup the base of her neck and pulled her face into his, letting her know he was thinking the same thing. After a teasing moment of stillness, Kira leaned the extra centimeter forward and their lips met.\n\nInstantly, her pulse quickened and her heart began to race as she lost herself in the sensation. The butterflies flying in her stomach seemed specifically tuned to Tristan, appearing every time he touched her. A warm feeling spread from her fingers to her toes, creating a titillating contrast as his cool fingers brushed over her skin.\n\nWith heavy breaths, Tristan grabbed her around the waist, easily flipping her over and pressing her body down into the soft bed as he took charge. A familiar twinge of excitement ran up Kira's spine, but she felt something else too, almost like a hint of anger stirring distantly in her mind. And then she heard a cough in the doorway.\n\n\"Sorry to interrupt,\" Luke said with a smile on his face and a steely look aimed at Tristan. Kira sighed and pulled back, trying to scoot out from underneath Tristan. For his part, Kira noted wryly, Tristan made no move to help her escape and instead let his weight hold her down. After a few seconds, which seemed like a few hours, Kira freed herself from Tristan's arms.\n\n\"Hi Luke.\" She smiled and sat up, trying to fix her hair. Yes, she was happy to see her friend, but who wouldn't be slightly annoyed at the interruption and very annoyed at his obviously smug face? Yup, Kira mused, the coma hadn't really changed a thing. Their mutual fear for her health had allowed Luke and Tristan to stand in the same room once in a while, but they were a long way away from friendship.\n\n\"Clearly, you're almost ready to go. Now, if we could just find a way to teleport your room to Sonnyville...\" He surveyed the empty suitcases and piles of clothes all over the floor. Kira threw a small pillow at him for the sarcastic remark, and he jumped out of its path, holding his hands up in surrender.\n\n\"All right, all right, but in all honesty...what the heck happened in here? It looks slightly like the Tasmanian devil tore this place apart.\"\n\nKira shrugged. \"This is just how I pack.\"\n\n\"So, there's a method to the madness?\"\n\n\"No, trust me,\" Tristan spoke up and turned over to lean against Kira's pillows. _Traitor_ , she thought, _your hair is still rumpled from our make-out session and you're siding with Luke._\n\n\"So, it's a little messy. I'll be ready by tomorrow, don't worry.\"\n\nLuke copiously surveyed the room again with eyes wide in doubt. \"It's not like you're going to see the queen—\"\n\n\"There's a conduit queen?\" Kira interrupted, ready to freak out.\n\n\"No, the Queen of England. Did you hit your head again?\" Luke questioned, barely able to contain his laughter.\n\n\"No,\" Kira huffed and picked up the closest thing she could find, which happened to be a dress. She looked at it and debated if she would need sundresses in Sonnyville. It wasn't like she would be trying to land a date; she was going there to learn how to fight. Kira cocked her head to the side, going back and forth between the options.\n\n\"What's the big deal? Just put it in your suitcase,\" Luke said, exasperated.\n\n\"That's what I said,\" Tristan chimed in again, and Kira dropped her hands to her side giving him a stern look. It seemed they had no trouble ganging up against her, but when she wanted everyone to get along they were enemies again. _I mean really_ , Kira thought, _this is absurd_.\n\nA beep sounded from the street, and Kira threw the dress back onto the floor, excited for the escape. Their whole gang was going out together, one last hurrah before Luke and Kira left, which meant she could put off packing for a few more blissful hours.\n\n\"Time to go!\" Kira chirped and raced from the room, not waiting for either of the boys. Her parents were gone for the night, at a preschool summer event for her little sister Chloe, so she walked right out the door and into Emma's car. Luke appeared a minute later and hopped into the backseat.\n\nKira suspected that Tristan had already slipped away. Her friends liked him, but the tension with Luke was always obvious, and Kira and Tristan had both decided it was not worth the battle, at least not on her last night in Charleston.\n\n\"So, where to?\" Kira looked around, eyeing her friends. As per usual, Emma drove and Kira sat in the front seat while the boys piled in the back. She took in Emma's short jean skirt and professionally applied makeup, then looked back at the boys again, seeing that Miles had replaced his usual comic book T-shirt for a button-down. It seemed as though everyone had gone fancy for their last night.\n\nIt suddenly dawned on Kira how strange it was that this would be the last time the five of them could hang out, at least for a while. They were sort of her family, especially after helping with her recovery. But with Miles going to Harvard, Emma and Dave both going to Texas, and she and Luke \"taking a year off,\" things would definitely be changing. Kira wasn't sure what she thought about it yet, but decided to just try to enjoy this night. She needed to have fun, because even though Luke hadn't said so, Sonnyville would be far more work than pleasure.\n\n\"Well,\" Emma began, and Kira knew there was a saga of a story about to begin. \"I wanted to go out to a fancy dinner, and the boys wanted to play video games. So we decided that we needed to meet in the middle. You know, not go too fancy but still have fun. So, we thought about it and thought about it—\"\n\n\"We're going to my place,\" Miles voiced up, knowing Emma could have easily talked for another ten minutes without reaching the point. She shot daggers at him through the rearview mirror.\n\n\"So, yes, we're going to Miles's house. His parents had to leave right after graduation, so we'll have the place to ourselves. And not that we really need to, but we thought about it and—\"\n\n\"Now we can throw that rager we've always wanted to!\" Luke cheered. Kira rolled her eyes when she heard the slap of a high five. Dave and Luke were clearly excited by the idea. Kira, not so much.\n\n\"Wait, you threw a party?\" She turned to look at the three boys in the back seat, each with a goofy smile plastered on his face. She had been hoping they would have some time with just the five of them, not a crazy high school party.\n\n\"Not my idea.\" Emma threw an apologetic look in Kira's direction.\n\n\"C'mon. It'll be awesome. We'll be leaving with a bang,\" Luke said. His hand landed on Kira's shoulder and he shook her a little, trying, she assumed, to shake her into the idea.\n\n\"So, where's Tristan?\" Emma asked, clearly trying to change the topic. Kira knew Emma was on her side. She could already envision the two of them chatting by the punch bowl, watching Luke and Dave try to convince Miles to talk to some girl, knowing that it would fail miserably. Kira hoped he would have better luck at Harvard; a fellow nerd would really love him, much more than the cheerleaders or Goths that Luke and Dave antagonized him into asking out.\n\n\"I didn't realize we were having a party, so I told him to go home for a while. He has some packing to do. You know he leaves for his backpacking trip around Europe tomorrow,\" Kira said, ending with the cover story she, Luke, and Tristan had all decided on—Tristan was spending the summer in Europe, while, totally randomly, Kira got a job at a restaurant in Orlando, and Luke was working at Disney World.\n\n\"Don't worry, I told him before we left. He's going to stop by, I think,\" Luke said quietly from the back seat.\n\nKira turned around, shocked, and heard Dave mutter \"dude\" under his breath.\n\n\"What, what? I'm a nice guy,\" Luke said and shrugged. Kira turned back around in her seat, stunned. It was no secret that Luke hated Tristan—it meant a lot to her that he made the gesture. Maybe, she thought ruefully, he was only being nice because he knew she would be with him and not Tristan for the next two months.\n\nBy the time Emma pulled over outside of Miles's house, the party was already in full swing. His house had been closed off, but his family owned an old plantation, so their backyard was gigantic. With one look at the parked cars on his yard and ring of headlights, all Kira could think was that his parents would freak out when they got home. She couldn't imagine those tire tracks would go away very fast. And it looked as though their entire class was there, dancing on the grass to music blaring from a ton of cars set to the same radio station. Plastic cups already spotted the ground, and Kira saw that the football team had set up multiple kegs in the beds of their pickup trucks. She almost felt strange as they approached the house she had visited so many times before.\n\n\"We barely know these people,\" she whispered to Emma. The two of them were arm in arm, a few feet behind the boys who were rushing to join the fun.\n\n\"I know, but it'll be fun! And now, we'll be the people who everyone remembers for throwing an awesome party after graduation.\" Emma grinned at the thought. Kira started to smile too; she could get on board with this. It would be far better to be known as a member of the party-throwing brigade than the weird coma girl.\n\nYeah, the last few weeks of school had been fantastic with her friends and Tristan, but everyone gave her strange looks. No one in the school really knew what happened on the night of the eclipse except for Kira, Luke, and Tristan. When Tristan had rushed her to the hospital, Luke stayed behind to clean up as much of the blood on her yard as possible. The cops still came to her house, and they had found traces of human blood despite Luke's attempts, so they started investigating. There were rumors that Tristan had beaten her up and Luke had to stop him, or that Tristan and Luke tried to kill each other. The three of them had tried to play it off as an animal attack, but it was still the town gossip for weeks. After a while, it became old news, but in high school, old news almost never disappeared completely. Going out with a bang suddenly didn't seem half bad, and Kira let Emma lead her forward to the party.\n\nThey both grabbed diet sodas and walked over to the boys who were stationed on Miles's porch, looking out over the party, surveying whom they could get him to dance with.\n\n\"I say Susie Harp.\" Luke pointed at the small, pixie-like girl with brown hair. Kira slapped his hand down when she and Emma got closer.\n\n\"Stop pointing,\" she chastised and rolled her eyes. Maybe Miles wasn't the problem; Dave and Luke could easily be holding him back.\n\nLuke ignored her and pointed at Susie again. \"Come on, she's cute and this is the last night I get to watch you in action.\"\n\n\"No way man.\" Dave put his arm around Miles's shoulder, steering him in the opposite direction. \"Amy MacDougall, she's the girl you should go for.\"\n\nAll five of them looked over at Amy, who was dancing on the hood of a car while one of the basketball players stood at the ready in case she fell over. Her dress had wet spots from where she spilled her own drink all over herself, as Kira had witnessed five minutes before. They all looked back at Dave—he was clearly going for the \"she's drunk so she'll definitely dance with you\" approach.\n\n\"David,\" Emma started, pulling him away to reprimand him for basically telling the group that Miles's only hope was someone who had no control over her senses.\n\n\"So, I win. Susie it is,\" Luke said, pushing Miles forward. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say okay, shook his head to get in the zone, and then straightened his glasses before walking over.\n\n\"This is going to be good.\" Luke put his arm around Kira so they could watch together.\n\n\"Why? What do you know?\" Kira asked, not liking the mischievous glint in Luke's eye.\n\n\"Nothing, nothing,\" Luke shushed her.\n\n\"Luke,\" Kira said harshly. He looked over at her, slightly deflated, as though Kira were totally ruining his fun.\n\n\"Okay, so I might have already told Susie that Miles had a crush on her, and she might have already told me she would love to get to know him better, if you know what I mean.\" He wiggled his eyebrows and they watched as Miles led Susie to the pseudo dance floor that the circle of cars created. He shot both of them a not-so-discrete thumbs up, and Kira silently prayed he didn't screw it up.\n\n\"You're quite the matchmaker.\" She laughed.\n\n\"I do what I can,\" Luke said and looked over at her. Their faces were close together, and Kira could almost feel his pulse quicken. Not for the first time, she thought maybe she was reading his mind, because Kira knew before Luke even made a move where his thoughts were going. She broke his gaze, pulling away, and Luke released his hold on her arm to step a few feet backward. When she heard his shuffling feet pause, Kira turned her eyes around to face him and eased her body back to rest against the railing. The small space between them might as well have been miles.\n\n\"So, what about you?\" she asked, trying to break the tension. \"Amy's up for grabs, you can always try for one last high school hurrah before we leave tomorrow.\"\n\nLuke grinned at the joke, trying to ignore the fact that Kira had very clearly just blown him off. She wondered what would happen when they went to Sonnyville. He had not been overtly obvious about his feelings for her, and sometimes Kira thought she was making it up in her head, but at moments like this, when she caught a glimpse of his small tendrils of longing, Kira wondered what really went on behind his goofy exterior.\n\n\"So, are you excited for tomorrow?\" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall opposite her. Under the porch lights, Kira thought his bleach-blond hair seemed to glow, and she realized she would be the only person for the next few weeks who didn't have almost white locks.\n\n\"It's strange to think about being surrounded by conduits. I'm excited, but it's a little nerve-racking too,\" she said honestly.\n\n\"Everyone will love you, don't worry. My little brother can't wait. I think he thinks you're a shiny new toy for him to play with.\"\n\nKira smiled, already picturing a miniature version of Luke running around with a wide smile on his face, fascinated by everything around him. Luke's family would be interesting to finally meet. Kira wondered what his sister and parents would think. Had he told them about Tristan?\n\n\"And,\" Luke continued talking, recognizing that Kira still needed reassurance, \"the council really isn't that bad. Everything is going to be great, you'll see.\"\n\n\"I hope so,\" she said and glanced back out at the party. Miles and Susie were still dancing, getting friendlier and friendlier Kira thought, and Dave and Emma had disappeared. So much for the five of them hanging out. Everywhere she looked, she saw her classmates, but they seemed more like strangers to her now than ever before. She wasn't sad to be leaving this town, just the few amazing friends she had made there.\n\nKira looked back at Luke, ready to ask more questions about their travel arrangements for tomorrow, when she saw him focus on something beyond her shoulder. The muscles in his face tensed, his usual laugh lines disappeared, and Kira saw his whole body stiffen. It could only mean one thing.\n\n\"Lover boy is here,\" he said, and Kira turned to see Tristan weaving his way through the crowd. Like a shadow sneaking between the rays of the headlights, he molded into the dark. Every part of him was hidden except for his pearly skin. Kira tried to smother the smile threatening to spread across her face and turned back to Luke to silently let him know she wouldn't abandon him to spend time with her boyfriend.\n\n\"I'll leave you two alone,\" Luke said, pushing against the wall to straighten his body and prepare to walk away.\n\n\"Luke, stay. I want to hang out with both of you.\"\n\nHe shrugged, as if to say _that's not possible_ , and started to leave. Kira heard the porch steps creak behind her, knowing it was Tristan, and spun around.\n\n\"We need to talk,\" Tristan said, his voice full of concern. Luke stopped walking and looked back, alert.\n\n\"What's going on?\" he asked. Kira could tell he had transitioned to business mode and had let the personal drama go for the moment.\n\n\"Privately. Can we get inside?\"\n\nLuke nodded and walked over to the door. Reaching above the doorframe, he pulled out a spare key that Miles must have told him about and opened the locked door.\n\nTristan grabbed Kira's hand, entwining their fingers, and quickly kissed the top of her head before following Luke inside.\n\nLuke shut the door behind them. The kitchen was eerily dark and the soundproof glass dulled the strains of music coming from the party. Heavy shadows crept around the lines of light peeking through the windows, making the three of them seem very alone. Kira shivered with a sense of foreboding and dropped Tristan's hand to lift herself onto the granite countertop. She knew she would need a seat to hear the news Tristan clearly felt was urgent.\n\n\"What's going on, Tristan?\" she asked.\n\nWith traces of sadness lining his clear blue eyes, Tristan looked at her and responded, \"You and Luke need to leave now. Immediately. I brought Luke's car and packed your stuff.\" He ended quietly, as if not wanting to believe the truth in his words. Kira reached out to grab his arm, pulling him closer. There was something else, something he didn't want to tell her. In the corner of her eye, Kira could see Luke pacing around the kitchen, thinking.\n\n\"They're here, aren't they?\" Luke stopped walking and faced Tristan, who just nodded.\n\n\"What?\" Kira asked, feeling left out, before realizing Tristan of course meant vampires. \"Wait? They're here? As in Charleston or the backyard?\"\n\nTristan ran his free hand through his hair and turned to Luke in full protection mode. Kira had seen this act before, and she didn't like it. \"The pack of vampires I sent away last time, they're back. We have five, maybe ten minutes before they reach the party and tear this place apart. You both need to leave now.\"\n\n\"But what about everyone else?\" Kira jumped from the countertop, not allowing them to ignore her. She could not leave these people to fend for themselves.\n\n\"We need to do something,\" Luke said, walking closer to the two of them in order to figure out a plan. Tristan nodded in agreement. \"Okay, Kira and I will just have to face them. We're powerful enough to bring down a few vampires, this will all be fine.\"\n\n\"No, that's way too risky,\" Tristan said, looking Kira in the eye. \"You have to leave. You and Luke get in the car and start driving. I'm going to lure the vampires away, pretend I'm with them and that I saw you leave. Hopefully, I can lead them in the wrong direction for a while so you and Luke have a chance to escape.\"\n\n\"Oh, and your plan is totally foolproof,\" Kira smarmily replied. \"I would rather fight them. It's what, eight or nine vampires? Luke and I can handle it. You can't do this on your own, Tristan.\" She reached her palm up to cup his face, letting her finger brush against his hair. She wouldn't let him do this alone.\n\n\"No, Kira,\" Luke spoke forcefully. \"Tristan's right. He needs to do this. It's the best way to make sure you don't get caught.\"\n\nKira turned to Luke angrily. \"It's not like you wouldn't gladly watch him die,\" she hissed, then looked away, instantly sorry for the remark. Luke was better than that—she knew he was better than that.\n\n\"This isn't about that, okay?\" Luke replied softly, staring at the ground to hide his involuntary wince. \"Everyone at this party is at risk right now, and you being here only amplifies that. Tristan's plan is the best way to keep everyone safe. So, let's go.\" He grabbed her hand and started pulling her from the kitchen toward the front door of the house.\n\n\"Wait, Luke. Wait!\" She tugged against his hold and stopped walking to glance back at Tristan. Drenched in shadow, he stood in the kitchen alone, turned slightly away from her and Luke as though he knew this was goodbye but couldn't bring himself to say it.\n\n\"Meet me at the car,\" Luke said and dropped Kira's hand to leave the two of them alone. He disappeared out the door, and before Kira could blink, Tristan was by her side. His hands gently cupped her face while he stared into her fire-laced eyes.\n\n\"It's going to be all right,\" he said, urging her to believe him. Kira tried to quell her racing heart and believe his words, but even if it was all right tonight, neither one of them knew what the future would hold in these next two months apart. He would be chasing down Diana, and though Kira knew he could take care of himself, even vampires could die.\n\nKira rested her forehead against his, enjoying the brush of his cool breath on her cheek in this one moment of peace.\n\n\"I love you,\" she whispered.\n\nHe leaned in to kiss her, and Kira pulled him closer, not wanting to let go and lose the touch of his soft lips on hers. Tristan lifted her off the ground, hugging her close to his body, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Everything felt perfect, at least for an instant before his body stiffened. He broke their kiss, pulled her in even tighter for a final hug, and then set her back down, still holding her.\n\nKira stared into his sapphire eyes, reading the sadness-tinted longing in his irises and knew the vampires were here. Tristan let her go and stared, moving his eyes so he could take in every inch of her face. She ran her hand through his hair, pushing the ebony locks off of his forehead one last time, breathing in the moment.\n\nIn the time it took for Kira to blink away a tear, Tristan had vanished, leaving just a memory, and she was left alone holding only the air.\n\n###\n\nSIMMER (Midnight Fire Book Two) is available wherever ebooks are sold!\n\nMore information available on my website:\n\nwww.KaitlynDavisBooks.com\n\n**A** BOUT **T** HE **A** UTHOR\n\nBestselling author Kaitlyn Davis writes young adult fantasy novels under the name Kaitlyn Davis and contemporary romance novels under the name Kay Marie.\n\nAlways blessed with an overactive imagination, Kaitlyn has been writing ever since she picked up her first crayon and is overjoyed to share her work with the world. When she's not daydreaming, typing stories, or getting lost in fictional worlds, Kaitlyn can be found indulging in some puppy videos, watching a little too much television, or spending time with her family.\n\nJoin Kaitlyn's monthly newsletter for exclusive content, updates about her upcoming releases, book recommendations, and more!\n\nbit.ly/KaitlynDavisNewsletter\n\nOther ways to connect with Kaitlyn online:\n\nWebsite:\n\nKaitlynDavisBooks.com\n\nFacebook:\n\nFacebook.com/KaitlynDavisBooks\n\nInstagram:\n\n@KaitlynDavisBooks\n\nTwitter:\n\n@DavisKaitlyn\n\nBookBub:\n\n@KaitlynDavis\n\nGoodreads:\n\nGoodreads.com/Kaitlyn_Davis\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}
{"text": " \n### That Year\n\n### By M.J. Fontana\n\n### Published by M.J. Fontana\n\n### © 2014 M.J. Fontana\n\n### All rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.\n\n### This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental\n\n### This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n### Cover Art © L.J. Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations\n\n**Smashwords Edition, License Notes**\n\nThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.\n\n### Contents\n\nChapter 1  \nChapter 2  \nChapter 3  \nChapter 4  \nChapter 5  \nChapter 6  \nChapter 7  \nChapter 8  \nChapter 9  \nChapter 10  \nChapter 11  \nChapter 12  \nChapter 13  \nChapter 14  \nChapter 15  \nChapter 16  \nChapter 17  \nChapter 18  \nChapter 19  \nChapter 20  \nChapter 21  \nChapter 22  \nChapter 23  \nChapter 24  \nChapter 25  \nEpilogue\n\n# 1\n\nOccasionally, I would go to my girlfriend Victoria's house to eat dinner. Her parents always treated me like I was part of the family, and I always thought of them as part of mine. Besides her parents Joe, a truck driver and Barbara, a stay at home wife who babysitted a group of kids from the neighborhood and nearby communities, Victoria's two younger brothers and sister took a liking to me. Her younger sister Brianna was a shy girl that always had a doll clutched under her right arm. She would talk in a low voice that one would have to lean in to be able to hear her. I imagined this was how Victoria was when she was younger. I know it was how I was.\n\nI'm not a person that puts themselves out there, and most would describe me as a quiet, reserved person. Victoria would also be described as quiet by others.\n\nVictoria and I shared everything, would talk for hours, and I loved being with her. Although we were only 15 years old we had a mature relationship. There was no doubt about it she was for me and I was for her.\n\n\"Next year you start high school, must be exciting,\" Victoria's mom says standing on my left hand side placing a massive pile of mash potatoes on my plate next to a massive piece of meatloaf and pile of green beans. I sure wasn't going to complain, I loved her cooking. I look at Victoria sitting to my right, \"It's going to be a little scary at first but I'm excited about the next four years,\" I say while Victoria holds back a smile. I been with her for the past two years and still there are these moments that I get lost in her beauty. Her brunette hair that stops at her shoulders and her green eyes made me feel while looking at her that I was the luckiest guy on the planet. \"John and Vincent come to dinner now,\" shouts Victoria's father from the kitchen table to his two sons in another room. Brianna with her doll in her lap sits quietly to my left.\n\nThe last day of school is a half-day. By the middle of June everybody in school is anxious to start their summer break and enjoy the nice, warm weather. Next year I'll be going to another building in another location, next year I'll be starting high school. I see myself being with Victoria throughout high school. The prospect of being with her puts me at ease.\n\nWhen I get home from school Victoria and I head to our favorite place _the shaking bar_. This place has every milkshake flavor your imagination could think of, and although on occasion we would try a new flavor, when Jimmy, the owner, saw us coming through the entrance two chocolate milkshakes with whip cream were waiting for us on our table.\n\nMy summer break was fun, I enjoy the little things like hanging out with my friends, playing baseball and basketball at the local park and of course being with Victoria. In late July till early August I went to the shore for a week with Victoria and her parents. My three closest friends Steve, Ryan, and Josh told me to bring condoms with me. The thought crossed my mind that it would happen. Although I desired and was ready to have sex with her it still felt like I would be entering a forbidden world. Also I never got the feeling that she was ready to take that next step.\n\nWhen we arrived at our motel, right next to the beach, with our room facing the waterfront I helped unpack the car full of luggage. Victoria shared a room with her younger sister Brianna. I shared a room with her two brothers John and Vincent, and her parents had a room to themselves. All three rooms were right next to each other. After unpacking we all got changed and walked the short distance to a spot on the beach. It was a sunny, blue sky day in the mid 90s, so Barbara had us all put on sunscreen. Victoria turned to me and asked if I could get her back for her. I stood like a statue unable to speak or move lusting for her while she stood in front of me in her two piece swimsuit. She was the same girl I had known and yet my heart was beating faster than it ever had. I took the sunscreen bottle from her fumbling it my hands as it fell into the sand, picking it up I squirted some on my left hand, and rubbed my hand slowly across her back and lower back. I could only imagine what I looked like to anyone who looked at me because I felt as if I was unable to hold my excitement. Maybe I was unsure about entering this forbidden world before but at that moment I knew I wanted to.\n\nLater, I helped Brianna build a sandcastle, and assisted Brianna and John burry their brother in the sand. I looked to my side at Victoria's dad, Joe, sleeping in his beach lounge chair basking under the sun's rays next to Victoria's mom Barbara reading a paperback book. I looked out toward the beach, at Victoria standing by herself on the edge where only your feet get wet after a wave breaks. I walked next to her. \"Want to go in,\" I asked her. \"Yes,\" she said. She grabbed my hand while we walked further and further into the ocean. We finally settled into a spot in the water where our bodies moved gently with the motion of the waves. \"Hold me,\" she said. I moved closer to her holding her body close to mine. We faced each other so close that not even a pinky could slide between us. Simultaneously we lock lips. This wasn't the first time I have kissed her but this felt different. While we kissed the motion of the waves froze, the people around us froze, the birds stopped chirping, the ice cream truck tune stopped playing, and at that very moment it was as if it was only me and her. I knew at that moment both of us were ready to take that next step. There's nothing to be afraid of if you're with the person you love.\n\nLater that first night, after enjoying dinner at a hibachi restaurant Joe and Barbara retired to bed. Victoria, Joe, Vincent, Brianna whom was still clutching her doll under her right arm, and I stayed up and watched television in the room I was staying in as it was the bigger room with three beds. Victoria stood up, \"Matt and I are going to my room for a little bit we'll be right back, just stay here and watch TV\". \"Why are you going to our room,\" Brianna asked me in her low voice. I looked up at Victoria from the chair I was sitting on with my heart beating faster and nervousness conquering my entire body. \"He has to help me fix something, we'll be right back,\" Victoria told her. \"Oh,\" she said and continued to play with her doll. John and Vincent remained still watching television. I got up and followed her outside to her room. I walked further into her room with my left hand in my pocket, feeling like I would stumble over my own steps. I heard her lock the door behind her. I turned around at her while she was in the process of taking off her shirt and bra. She stands in front of me completely naked. Excitement ensued. I walked up to her taking off my shirt and pants in the process leaving only my boxers on. I must have kissed and felt every part of her nude body. She placed her hands on the top of my boxers and went down with them as she grabbed and stroked my penis. We collapsed onto the bed together. Her green eyes stared right into mine with her hands around my upper back. All the passion we had for each other takes over on this humid summer night.\n\nThe next morning Victoria and I walked along the beach holding hands, the strong mourning sun beaming down on us, as we waited for her family to get ready to go out for breakfast. The next three nights we went into her room leaving her siblings in my room watching television to have sex again and again.\n\n\"You finally did it,\" exclaimed one of my best friends Steve in amazement as I told him about my experience with Victoria during the trip to the shore. I knew Steve for a long time, he was always in my classes during my previous school years, and was on my recreational baseball and basketball teams I participated in. Steve is not like Victoria and I. He's more outgoing and popular with other kids in school.\n\nThe summer was winding down and the start of my high school career was getting closer. I never thought much about starting high school during the summer, but with the back to school commercials in high gear, the sun setting earlier and earlier, and the night air getting cooler and cooler, I have started to.\n\nOn the last Monday of summer break I spend the majority of the day with my friends and other kids from the neighborhood and surrounding communities playing basketball at the local park. I told Victoria I would meet her at _the shaking bar_ at 6pm, so at 4:30pm I walk back home to take a shower.\n\nI enter _the shaking bar_ and see Victoria sitting at a booth. I sit down across from her. \"How are you beautiful,\" I ask her. \"I wanted to meet you tonight because I think we need to stop seeing each other\". I'm so thrown off I just sit there like I'm having a bad dream, and I'll wake up soon. But the time ticks by and I'm still sitting here. We have grown so far, I can't possibly imagine my life without her. She is a part of who I am. This can't possibly be happening, where is this coming from? I think back to anything in everything that I could possibly have done to her to make her feel like she needs to stop seeing me. Jimmy puts down our usual two chocolate milkshakes with whip cream on the table. My eyes go from the milkshakes to her. She is wearing a sad expression on her face. I think I hear her sob as she gets up and leaves the table leaving me alone with my thoughts. I was so shocked by what she had said that I didn't even get to say anything to her before she left.\n\nShe's the first girl I kissed, first girl I loved, first girl that I made love to, and first girl to break my heart.\n\n\"Maybe this is a good thing,\" says Steve sitting on one of the couches in the living room of Josh's house. Josh and Ryan sit near me on another couch playing a football video game. \"How is it a good thing?\"\n\n\"Dude there is so much fresh ass in high school, all these girls want to do is get fucked and fucked up,\" Steve replies. \"Yeah, this is a good thing you don't want to be tied down to one girl for the best years of your life, you got your whole life for that shit,\" Josh adds after slamming down his controller as he just lost the game to Ryan. \"But you are going to have to put yourself out there a little bit more,\" Ryan adds.\n\n\"True, true,\" says Steve. \"Girls want someone whose more confident, something you struggle with\", Josh says. \"I'm not thinking about other girls right now, me and Victoria had something that you don't just move on from quickly,\" I say. \"Why do you think she ended the relationship,\" asks Ryan. \"She is a pretty girl, she knows that, she doesn't want to be with you right now because she wants to explore and experience, not be tied down in a relationship,\" Ryan says before I could answer him. \"She's not like that,\" I say getting up from the couch to head home.\n\nMaybe Ryan is right. After this weekend I will be in a new school with new people, and now without Victoria. I never anticipated that I would be without her when starting high school.\n\n# 2\n\nThe bus continues driving along an unfamiliar path I have never been on before. I look out my window trying to remain calm and untie the feeling of a knot inside my stomach. The bus makes a left turn onto the high school campus. It's a rural campus with forest and woods surrounding all around the high school.\n\nThe bus rides slowly up a long, windy path toward the high school. The long and windy path opens up revealing a baseball field on my right. Finally, the bus makes a left turn and for the first time I see the high school building, the building I will be spending the next four years of my life. The school, massive in size and scope, is made up of maroon bricks. The other freshmen look out there windows in exhilaration at their new school while the bus finds its parking spot.\n\nTen minutes later, the bus door opens. I maneuver my way toward the school entrance. Unfamiliar people catch up with friends asking about their summer, what classes they're in, or how their boyfriend or girlfriends are doing. As I enter the building I reach into my pocket and take out my schedule.\n\nI feel lost and I'm literally lost, I have no idea where I'm going. I think of how Victoria must be making out on her first day. I finally have the courage to ask a faculty member where to go. He verbalizes to me directions on how to get to my first class, pointing me in the direction to start. The hallways are beginning to get crowded with more students entering the building. Everyone seems to know everyone and here I am by myself with no idea where to go.\n\nI finally find my first period classroom... finally. I take a seat in a desk chair. \"So much ass out there,\" I overhear two freshmen talking from across the room. I keep to myself as I wait for the class to begin. \"She's a slut, she will literally fuck anybody,\" I overhear a girl say from across the room. This all feels new, and scary. This isn't me, I just want Victoria back. The world didn't seem so big and easy to get lost in when I was with her.\n\nA girl walks in that catches my attention. I glance at her twice. I had to, she was stunning. Who is this girl? She had long blonde hair that flows down past her shoulders. She sits down not at one of the student's desks but in the front at the teacher's desk. She was going through a folder searching for something. She has the same look that I feel I'm displaying. Despite her beauty, she looks unsure of herself. She looks young, must be her first teaching job. I hear other guys murmur in a barely inaudible volume. I know what they were talking about though, the stunning, young, blonde teacher of ours. The bell rings through the speakers located near the clock above the classroom door letting us know that first period has begun.\n\n\"My name is Mrs. Snow; I will be your Math teacher this semester. I will tell you a little about myself and then I'm going to go around the room and ask you to tell the class something about yourself,\" Mrs. Snow says.\n\n\"Last year I graduated from East Rail University with a degree in education with a specialization in math. I initially wanted to teach elementary school teachers, but you take what you can get when you have student loans to pay off. I did student teaching at Valley School district.\" The class boos simultaneously. Valley School district is our most hated rival for our school sports. \"I know, I know I went to the dark side, but I saw the light and I'm here now,\" Mrs. Snow says laughing. Applause follows. Mrs. Snow plays along and bows. She is cute and funny.\n\n\"Why don't we start with you,\" said Mrs. Snow pointing to a kid in the front of the column that I was in. If she was going to down I would be the fifth person to have to tell the classroom in which I have not recognized anybody something about myself. I hated this. I never knew what to say. Just like that it was my turn and I didn't even hear what the other four other people said.\"Umm, I have a golden retriever named Rover, an older sister starting college,\" I say. I look up unsurely at Mrs. Snow and her blue eyes that stand out even from a distance in the front of the classroom. She looks like she wants me to add more, but I don't know what else she wants me to say. Just go to next person, that's all I got. Go to the next person. \"Okay, and what was your name again,\" asks Mrs. Snow. \"Matt,\" I answer. \"Thanks Matt, I actually had a golden retriever growing up too.\" She points to the next student who shares her whole life story or maybe it seems that that way since I shared so little. I wish I was more comfortable around others, but I'm not.\n\nI gather my notebooks and textbooks for my second period class. The hallway is swarming with other students \"Hey,\" says a girl whom sits on the opposite side of my first period classroom. She has a tan body and long brunette hair. \"Hey,\" I say. I don't know this girl and I certainly don't know why she wants to talk to me. Okay, calm down she just wants to talk, no reason to be nervous. \"What year are you in,\" she asks. \"This is my first day of high school.\"\n\n\"I remember my first day, it's scary at first but you'll get use to it,\" she assures me smiling placing her free hand on my shoulder. \"I have to go this way,\" she says pointing to the right side where the hallway splits in three. \"I go that way,\" I say pointing to the left side even though I have no idea where my next class is located. \"I'll see you around or tomorrow then,\" she says smiling heading in the opposite direction. She's beautiful, I'll never have a chance with her, or maybe I do, I don't know. My past is my past, this is a fresh start, these people don't know me, and I could redefine who I am here. I don't have to be that quiet, reserved kid anymore.\n\nLost in my thoughts and trying to find my next class on my own I end up in torn down hallway that seems isolated from the rest of the school. The light flickers above me. My shoes step onto a filthy hallway floor filled with mud, old notebooks, and old stale food, rotten apples half eaten, and rotten banana peels. I continue walking down this hallway of torn apart lockers which extend on the left and right sides of the hall. They looked like they survived a bomb explosion. The horrid smell fills the hallway air, overtaking all my senses. People wearing old, torn, ripped clothing sit with their backs leaning against the lockers.\n\nThese deprived people begin to surround me. \"Get away from me,\" I shout. \"What the hell is going on out here,\" a man coming out of a classroom shouts. He wears old, dusty clothing. His sleek black hair is combed back with grease. He would be a good looking guy if not for his deprived appearance. \"I don't mean any trouble, I just got lost,\" I plead with the man. Slowly he walks in my direction. He extends his hand. Confused, I shake it. \"Names Leonardo, call me Leo for short,\" he says. \"Follow me\". \"I should be heading back, I got lost it's my first day.\" \"First day in this high school,\" he asks me in amazement. \"Yes,\" I say. \"Please follow me.\" The people that surrounded me back away and sit back down backs against the hallway walls, their eyes expressionless and sad. Just looking at them it is hard not to feel bad for them. \"Okay, sure why not,\" I say. We walk a short distance down the hallway then turn into an empty abandon classroom. I cough as pollen and dust fills the classroom air. The only light in the room comes from a grimy window in which the sunlight struggles to shine through.\n\nThis classroom, this section of the high school is full of despair, abandonment, and sadness.\n\n# 3\n\nLeo sits in front of an old dusty teacher's desk in the abandoned classroom. \"Get a chair,\" Leo says in a soft voice while he picks up a pencil from the desk and begins writing in a notebook. I turn around locate a chair and pull it close to the desk.\n\n\"Where exactly am I,\" I ask. Leo ignores me focusing his attention on writing something in his notebook. I lift myself up slightly to see what he is working on. He notices what I'm doing, looks at me and closes the notebook shut, shooting dust into the air. He turns in his chair, \"I want to personally apologize for what you experienced out there. Those people out there are depraved, desperate people.\"\n\n\"Of what,\" I ask. \"Of what,\" Leo repeats under his breath, shaking his head. \"Of education and rights that other students have. That every man and women should have,\" he tells me with a fire in his eyes. \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Transfer students, foreign students, students who came to this school to better themselves don't have the same privileges that you and the rest of the student body have,\" he says attempting to get me to understand. \"The people you saw out there won't give up the fight, but many before have. They give up the fight for the rights they deserve, drop out of school unprepared, uneducated and they disappear into the abyss. They get lost in the world that is so easy to get lost in. Others take to drug dealing and gang banging to put food on the table for their families. See the greatest weapon you can take away is someone's education. Because education can lead to a better life, a better person,\" Leo finishes.\n\n\"How is this possible,\" I ask. \"Welcome to the real world, the world is not all sunshine and butterflies. There are people out there that hurt people for no reason, no motive at all.\"\n\nThe world seemed great with Victoria. How I longed just to be with her and have someone to face this world people refer to with. \"These students, they don't receive any schedule, and when they try to force their way into classes. They disappear. I fight for these people because they need someone to look up to in a dark time like this.\" \"Are you a transfer student yourself,\" I ask. \"No I'm not.\" \"Then why are you doing this,\" I ask. \"Those students are no different than you or I\"\n\nI gaze at Leo and all that he represents. I can't help but admire him. He is someone I always wanted to be. He stands for something. He is not afraid to be heard. He faces challenges but you can see in his eyes the passion and genuine care he has for the people in the isolated hallway outside.\n\n\"What are you working on,\" I ask looking at the closed notebook placed in front of him. \"To show the students of this school that it belongs to them and not the people who thrive on placing fear onto others. First, I need to be in an influential position. I'm working on a campaign for Student Body President.\" Leo opens his notebook, crossing out words with his pencil, and gets lost in his work once again.\n\n\"I want you be to my Vice President,\" he tells me turning his head to face me. \"Why me,\" I ask. \"I see potential in you. I saw the hurt in your eyes when you witnessed the despair outside these halls, the anger in your eyes when I told you their story.\" \"I don't know if I'm the best person to help you, I don't think I could be comfortable in the spotlight.\" \"You are the person for the job. You can't be afraid anymore. There is no escaping the spotlight. If you do you will disappear into the world, and no one will come looking for you. Maybe you were afraid before. This is a new era where fear will no longer control our lives. This school more than ever needs you. It's your time to become the person you always wanted to become,\" Leo says.\n\n\"I want to be your Vice President,\" I finally tell Leo returning from my thoughts buzzing around in my head. He places his hand on my shoulder. \"Great.\"\n\n# 4\n\nLeo packs his things in his backpack. \"Where are you going,\" I ask. \"Schools out see you tomorrow,\" he tells me. \"What time should I meet you here?\" \"When is your lunch,\" he asks. \"I got the C lunch period.\" \"Okay I'll have my scheduled changed by tomorrow and we will meet here during our lunch periods.\"\n\nI head for my bus. On the drive back I sit in silence by myself looking outside my window, but not really looking at what's outside as I'm lost in my thoughts. Thoughts about my first day, the secrets I had discovered. I ponder what fear Leo was referring to.\n\n\"How was it,\" my mom asks as my dad and I gather around the table. I take a seat across from my dad, \"I got lost at first.\" \"How did that happen,\" my dad asks. \"It's not that hard to get lost in there, it's a big building,\" I reply. \"You'll get used to it. Pretty soon you'll be able to find your classes with your eyes closed,\" my mom says taking a seat next to my dad. My golden retriever Rover places his head on my lab with begging eyes. How could I possibly say no to that face? I cut a piece of chicken and give it to him. Satisfied he walks away and lies down on the wooden floor next to the dinner table. \"Why don't you go to Victoria's house and have dinner with her family anymore, god knows you love her cooking more than mine,\" my mom asks. \"Honey would you stop,\" my dad says. I think they know I'm most likely not seeing her anymore, but I really don't want talk about it with them. \"Mom that's crazy, nobody, and I mean nobody could beat your cooking,\" I say. My mom chews on her piece of chicken, \"Yeah your right.\"\n\nThe next day I find my first period class a lot faster. Mrs. Snow walks into the classroom as the bell rings. She wears a white shirt, and a short black skirt. I can't help but stare at her. I know I wasn't the only one awe struck by her. As she writes on the white board with her marker in her hand I admire her ass. I walk up behind her, and I slowly lift her skirt up exposing her pink thong. I rub her butt cheeks with my hands and pull down her skirt, then her thong.\n\n\"Matt,\" Mrs. Snow shouts. \"What,\" I say alarmingly. \"Could you do number three on the board.\" \"Yes,\" I say as I get up from my desk.\n\nAn announcement comes through the speakers from above the door, \"Please turn on your televisions for the mourning announcements.\" Mrs. Snow reaches for the television attached to the ceiling behind her desk. I notice her shirt barely lift, exposing a slight hint of her bare skin.\n\n\"Hello students, faculty and staff to another year here at Mountain High, I'm Brandon and this to the left is the very beautiful Sage Windstill.\" \"Thanks Brandon you're not too bad yourself, even if you do think my younger sister is prettier than me.\" \"Well you know what Sage, I was drunk, and I think we went over this a number of times over the past week.\" The camera cuts away from the arguing news anchors.\n\n\"Hi, I'm David; I'm going to tell you the weather for today.\" David leaves the screen and comes back moments later. \"It's currently sunny; it's going to be sunny today.\"\n\n\"Hey everybody, it's Jimmy, your probably thinking what's for lunch, well I'm your guy. Today we have the normal chicken patties, burger, fries, pizza, subs, with our daily special being a healthy Mac n cheeses salad. For all you healthy people out there bring your own lunch.\" The camera cuts back to the lead anchors Brandon and Sage. \"Have a wonderful day.\"\n\nI nearly fall asleep during my second period class. My teacher Mr. Seethers speaks in the same monotone voice throughout the duration of the class, stopping occasionally to slide his glasses that keep sliding down his nose. \"Hey, no texting,\" says a guy storming into the classroom out of nowhere. \"Principle Burns, I... I wasn't texting I swear,\" says the kid nervously. \"You calling me dam liar, son I am a lot of things, but liar is not one of them,\" shouts Principle Burns. \"Sir I didn't call you a liar, I think you just are seeing things.\" Principle Burns paces up and down the classroom. Mr. Seethers sighs while rubbing his forehead with his hands from a seat at his desk. \"So now your calling me crazy, get your black ass out of that chair,\" Principle Burns shouts. When the kid doesn't budge from his chair, Principle Burns tugs his ear and drags him out of the classroom, slamming the classroom door behind him.\n\nI walk to the forgotten part of the school, down the hallway of despair and sadness and into the classroom where I first met Leo. Leo takes his grey and black check patterned flat cap off and places it onto a coat hook. He rubs his hands through his sleek black hair, \"Glad you could make it, some people can't handle change. They feel it's impossible, that the way everything was before is the only way. They are wrong. Change is sometimes is just another opportunity.\" I think of me and Victoria sitting down at our booth at _the shaking bar_ , laughing, comfortable. We shared so much, she was the first person, and so far only person I ever truly let in. I gave everything to her. And oh her beauty, I wonder if she knew how beautiful she really was when she would hold back that smile of hers.\n\n\"Follow me,\" Leo says. I get up from my chair wiping the dust off my pants as we leave the isolated section of the high school. He takes me to other parts of the school I never yet explored. We cross an elevated bridge, or catwalk as it's referred to, connecting the school to another part of the school. The catwalk's left, right, and upper section is made up of glass panels letting the natural sunlight in. \"There are other class rooms here, but that's not why I brought you here,\" says Leo as we cross the catwalk and turn to directly to the right at the end. Leo tries to open a door that appears locked. \"As suspected,\" he says to himself. He takes out what appears to be a stretched paper clip, and toggles with the lock. Eventually he gets it to open. \"Close the door behind you,\" he tells me while climbing the staircase.\n\n\"Have experience in lock picking I see.\" We reach another door after climbing 25 flights of stairs. Unlike the other one, this door doesn't have a lock. Leo opens the door. We are on the roof of the school. I look around. I see 7 baseball fields, tennis courts, basketball courts, and the football stadium behind the school. The campus is massive. Forests surround the outliers of the rural campus. Leo sits on the ledge of the roof looking out admiring the beauty that Mother Nature has to offer. I walk toward him standing next to where he is sitting. We both just admire the view. \"We are going to change a lot of things around here Matt,\" Leo finally breaks the silence. I think getting transfer and foreign students the rights they deserve is a big enough task. I don't know what else he is referring to.\n\nA truck drives up the road leading toward the school. Leo picks up binoculars that I didn't notice were right next to him on the ledge of the roof, and looks at the truck. \"What time is it,\" he asks looking through his binoculars. I take out my phone from my pocket, \"11:35,\" I answer. \"What's the importance of that truck,\" I ask. \"It's a Pyramid Company truck, the company that delivers our school cafeteria with food.\" \"Why are they important to us,\" I ask. Leo, with his black hair blowing in the light breeze turns to me and smiles.\n\n# 5\n\n\"Matt stay here,\" Mrs. Snow notifies me while the rest of my classmates gather their belongings for their second period class. The girl that talked me after this class on my first day of high school smiles at me while exiting the classroom. Two weeks have passed since that first day.\n\nI walk up to Mrs. Snow as she organizes papers on her desk. She looks at me with her bright blue eyes making my entire body feel frozen in time. \"You wanted me to stay,\" I say unsurely. \"Sit down Matt,\" she demands.\n\nShe pushes her blonde hair behind her ears and tilts her head in my direction. \"How are you?\" \"Good,\" I say. \"Am I making you are uncomfortable? You didn't do anything wrong. You can relax.\" If I didn't do anything wrong, then why did she want me stay? The classroom door opens. It is a built black man with buzzed black hair and facial hair extending around his chin. \"Just checking to see if you're getting accustomed to the school,\" he says. \"I am Mr. James thanks for asking.\" He looks at me then at Mrs. Snow and smiles as he goes through the classroom door backwards, smiling until the door finally closes. \"He's been checking alright. He comes here every day asking me.\" She was my teacher, but she was still young and she talked to me in a tone I imagined she would talk to one of her friends in.\n\nI glance at a picture on her desk next to a boutique of red roses. It's of her and another man, most likely her husband. She notices me looking at it and picks it up. \"I got married young,\" she says placing the picture frame, with the picture facing down onto her desk. I look at her; I see sadness in her eyes. \"You must be happy, with a job and family,\" I say. Truth was I really didn't know what to say, but that's best I came up with on the spot. \"I'm not happy,\" she says shaking her head. Her eyes get redder. Please don't cry, please don't cry. Too late, tears scroll gently down her face. I realize that I said the wrong thing. Wait, how is this my fault? I don't even understand what's happening. How did I get this situation again? She sniffs and wipes the tears off with her left hand. I don't notice any wedding ring on her finger.\n\n\"I'm sorry for this, I'm a mess.\" \"No, no you're anything but that,\" the words just roll off my tongue. I shouldn't have said that. What did I just say? She smiles. \"Don't make the same mistakes that I did in life,\" she says with her sobbing getting under control.\n\n\"I'm not happy, Matt.\" \"I have two kids with a guy that doesn't even love me. I'm 26 years old and my life is already off to a terrible start.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry this is happening to you, you don't deserve it,\" I say. \"I wish I could go back in time and be in your position, your whole life ahead of you.\" \"Mrs.\". \"Please. Call me Elizabeth,\" Mrs. Snow interrupts me placing her hand on my leg. She slowly and gently scrolls her hand up my leg.\n\nShe gets up and walks toward the door and locks it. She walks toward me her long blonde hair flowing as she walks. She lifts her shirt up to her breast exposing her stomach. Her shirt falls back down as she sits on my lap her face facing mine. I'm unable to control myself. We kiss. She takes off her shirt, then her bra. I sit there admiring her. She pulls down her skirt and thong. She is completely naked. We share another passionate kiss. I take my shirt off. We kiss more. I take my pants off. I kiss and feel every part of her body. I take off my boxers. She leans against the desk, so I place her legs under my arms and force myself upon her.\n\nI wipe the sweat from my forehead and put my clothes back on trying to get my normal breathing back.\n\n# 6\n\nDuring the following weeks I continue to meet Leo during our 35 minute lunch periods. Our time varying between preparing the Student Body Presidency campaign and feeding the transfer and foreign students hope that change is imminent and their hunger for education and rights will be met. From the roof of the school we would watch as the Pyramid Company delivery truck would drive up the campus road in route toward the back of the school. We would observe as it parked, and watch as the driver unloaded boxes onto a magna cart and enter the school cafeteria's back entrance. Every time I would ask Leo the importance of the delivery truck, he was unrevealing.\n\nLeo was a natural born leader, and inspired the students whom spent their days in a forgotten and long lost section of the high school. He inspired me with his confidence, his sureness about himself.\n\nToday, Leo and I decide to have lunch in the abandoned classroom that I first met him in. I take a bite from my chicken patty. \"This won't be easy. We are running against a person, Bruce Sneel, in the pocket of Joey Fontane and his gang.\" I finish chewing the piece of chicken in my mouth. \"Who's Joey Fontane,\" I ask. \"The person responsible for the fear the run in the school hallways,\" he answers. \"People let him get away with what he wants, never standing up the weakened, for what's right and what's wrong, out of fear of retaliation from Joey Fontane and his gang.\" Leo turns his head in my direction, \"But what we are attempting is going to rock the very foundation this school is built on, it will rattle the cages of Joey Fontane. We need to show the students we are strong enough together to change this school for the better, that thugs like Fontane no longer run this school.\"\n\nI walk through the bus parking lot. I notice the girl that sits on the opposite side my first period classroom stop conversing with her friends, and look at me. She walks toward me. \"Hey,\" I say first. \"All this time gone by and I still don't know your name,\" I continue. She blushes, looks at the ground, and then lifts her head up, \"It's Kayla. My parents are not going to be home this weekend, so I'm kind of throwing this party Friday night. If you're interested I would like it if you came,\" she says. \"Yeah that sounds fun.\" \"Great give me your number and I'll text you my address.\" She adds each number I say into her phone, smiles then walks back to her group of friends. I notice how excited she and her friends are when she is back. I hope that excitement is not for me. I'm not worth getting that excited over. I will just disappoint her.\n\nFriday night arrives. Steve's older brother drives Steve and me to the party. Steve didn't get invited but I guess hearing about a party means you're allowed to go. I don't know. Kayla's driveway and street are full of cars. Steve and I get out of the car and open the door into her house. The deafening music startles me as I enter. The smell of alcohol is everywhere. In the center of the living room people are dancing. Others are talking in groups throughout the house with red cups in their hands. I see Kayla drinking a can of beer in her kitchen. She spots me and heads toward me with another unopened can of beer in her hand. She hands the unopened can of beer to me. I never once drank beer in my life. But I take it from her hand like I know what I'm doing. I open, pour a gulp in my mouth, and freeze and finally gulp what I took down. I cough. She laughs. \"First time drinking,\" she asks. She is wearing white pair of short shorts and short sleeve pink shirt that shows her tan lower back and stomach up to her belly button. I look at her long tan legs, while I take another sip. \"I was trying to hide that from you, too obvious,\" I ask. She bites down on her lower lip and dances to the beat of the music pounding against my ear. She turns around and grinds her ass against me. I'm usually not one for dancing but something about the combination of a hot girl grinding her ass against me and beer make me. We dance for, oh I don't know because I kept drinking and drinking.\n\nI open my eyes. I shield them from the sunlight shining brightly into the room. I notice that I'm lying down on pink colored sheets. I turn to my side. Kayla is completely naked on her stomach next to me. At first I was confused to how I got here as I thought I was in my home, in my bed. I slide out of the blanket and out of the bed slowly, so I don't wake Kayla up. I'm finally out; I pick up and put on my clothes lying on the floor. \"Pa-pa-pancakes,\" Kayla says in her sleep. \"Yeah, yeah pancakes,\" I say and head out of her room to find the bathroom. Bodies are scattered everywhere, some just waking up confused to where they are, others are holding their heads in pain. I fumble my way through the sleeping bodies lying on the floor and make my way to the bathroom. I close the bathroom door behind me. I turn around and jump slightly as I didn't notice someone sleeping next to the toilet bowl. I go up to him, and gently shake his body. There is an empty clear zip lock bag on the bathroom floor next to him. Written on it in black marker, reads X'er, JF. I shake him again in an attempt to wake him up, but he doesn't respond. I turn his lifeless body around on his back. His eyes are open and expressionless. He is dead. Instantly, I reach for my cell phone in my pocket and dial 9-1-1.\n\n# 7\n\n\"And you sure the bag had X'er and JF written on it,\" Leo asks rubbing his hand through his hair. \"Yes I'm sure that's what was written.\" Leo is going over his speech notes while we wait behind the auditorium stage while Bruce Sneel delivers his to the student body. I watch as Bruce delivers his speech. He is wearing a black buttoned down that isn't buttoned all the way, exposing his hairy chest with a gold medallion around his neck. He is not like Leo with his instant likeability, there is something about him that doesn't seem right. Leo did tell me he is in the pocket of Joey Fontane and his gang. The vast, dimly lit auditorium fills with forced applause as Bruce concludes his speech. Bruce nudges me as he passes. I watch him exit through the backstage exit doors not even bothering to stay around for Leo's speech. Leo crosses the stage, steps up to the podium, head high, showing no fear.\n\n\"Today, my fellow classmates is a great day. A new year is upon us, and with a new year comes a new beginning. This school like the world outside these walls does not belong to the corrupt but to the righteous. This school belongs to each and every one of us, as we bond with others making lifelong friends, experiencing, finding out whom we truly are, so when we leave this school behind and enter the world out there we are prepared. We get up every morning, we learn, we grow. That's the underlying purpose for why we are all here in this school together. But my fellow students, there is dark cloud hanging above us all. Out of fear we have given the keys to this school to the corrupt and the evil that walk through our hallways. I stand here today telling you there is nothing to fear as we confront this darkness together. Together we will bring a stop to the corrupt. Together and only together we accomplish this. Together.\"\n\nApplause that is louder than the forced applause after Bruce's speech ring throughout the vast auditorium. Others stand up, clap and whistle. I feel uplifted and applaud along with them. Leo heads toward me. \"Follow me,\" he tells me. I follow him around paths that despite two months at the school I do not recognize. This doesn't surprise me. The school is massive and a world of its own. Also my classes are all in one general area of the school.\n\nAfter so many left turns, right turns, flights of stairs I lose all sense of direction. The hallways become more isolated, another part of the school long forgotten. Students are scattered in a torn apart hallway we turn in. Some are chewing on some substance; others are shooting a powdery substance up their nose. \"Who are these people,\" I ask Leo. \"Some of these people are lab rats for drugs that Joey Fontane and his gang distribute through this school, some of these test subjects are transfer and foreign students that saw no other path, but to help the very one that put them in the position they were in to begin with. Others are junkies that will do anything for a quick high.\" \"What exactly are they testing?\" \"Powerful addictive drugs that will make anyone a buyer for a long, long time,\" Leo answers. I nearly trip over pieces of missing tile. These people look so helpless, trapped inside their own bodies, crying out for help. I notice a fellow student with a colorful mohawk through the center of his head, with blood shot eyes protecting whatever he is holding in his hand.\n\n\"This is depressing,\" I comment. \"It's why we need to change things around here. Yeah I could just forget that this evil and corruptness exist, but I can't. I can't live in my fake little world and pretend everything around me is okay when it's not,\" says Leo. \"I know,\" I say as we head back to the part of the school that hasn't been forgotten.\n\n# 8\n\nI walk along the path full of colorful fallen leaves on a brisk fall afternoon day. I enter _the shaking bar_. It's crowded, so I sit at the first available booth I spot. A waitress comes to take my order. \"A bacon cheese burger and chocolate shake,\" I say. Scanning the crowd I see Victoria on the opposite side of the room sitting with another man. I stare watching her movements, her beauty. I notice she is not drinking her usual chocolate shake. It looks like one of the more exotic flavor shakes. I miss her so much. Maybe I should say hi to her. What's the harm in saying hi to someone I have known for a while. I notice her laugh at something the guy sitting with her says and decide against it. My food comes. I continue watching her while I eat.\n\nEventually, I see her leave without the guy. I get up from my booth and decide to go meet the guy she was sitting with. \"Mind if I sit,\" I ask quietly. \"Nah bro go ahead, what's up,\" he says while I sit down in the seat across from him in the booth. \"That girl I saw you with, she's pretty cute,\" I say. \"Not the best piece of ass, but you take what you can. She's a freshman too,\" he says. \"What does that mean,\" I ask curiously. He laughs, gets up from his seat. \"You know,\" he says getting money out of his wallet. No I don't but I nod my head to go along with it. \"Nice meeting you man,\" he say's while he heads for the exit leaving me alone in the booth.\n\nI walk back home in the dark, cool, fall night. It feels peaceful outside. The calm before winter I think. Though I moved on, I have not truly moved on from Victoria. I only move on because it's impossible to just stay still. The calendar flips to a new month reminding me that the world around me moves on. But me myself I have not. Victoria is a part of me that I cannot detach from. When I think of detaching myself and simply try forgetting about her, a deep sadness overwhelms me and I cannot. So moved on from Victoria, I have not. I feel like I never will.\n\nIt's the beginning of the week; November is on the horizon and the winner of the Student Body President will be announced. Leo represents a positive change for the school while Bruce represents the very corrupt we hope to defeat. Mrs. Snow walks into the classroom for the start of class.\n\nPrincipal Burns storms into the classroom, startling me in the process. He surveys the classroom. He walks toward an unsuspecting kid, and demand he hands over his cell phone. \"Why,\" the kid asks. Principal Burns paces up and down the classroom, rubbing his chin. \"Cell phones are NOT to be used during classes,\" he shouts. \"I wasn't using my cell phone,\" the kid says angrily. Principal Burns places his hand out in another attempt to get the kid to hand over his cell phone. The kid sighs and eventually gives up his cell phone. Principal Burns exits in faster than normal speed, slamming the classroom door behind him.\n\nMrs. Snow asks I stay as the rest of the class gathers their belongings for next period. Kayla smiles at me as she leaves the classroom, fixing her hair with her free hand not occupied with books.\n\n\"He doesn't appreciate me,\" Mrs. Snow starts before I could sit in the chair I place near her desk. I sit there shaking my head in disapproval. \"You don't have to be afraid to get out of this relationship if you're unhappy.\" She bites down on her lower lip and slides her hand slowly up my leg. \"Tell me everything's going to be okay.\" I stroke her long blonde hair with my left hand while I kiss her check, then her lips. I want to show her that there is nothing to be afraid of, that she doesn't have to be so sad. I get up from my chair to head to my second period class. I turn around before leaving. I notice tears rush down her face. I want to so badly console her and comfort her, but instead I leave her.\n\nLeo paces the torn apart floor in the abandoned classroom that's getting darker and darker as each day gets cloudier as it gets closer to winter. \"Tomorrow is a big day not just for us, but for the entire school,\" he says. I lean against the front desk looking at him. \"You're going to do great things for this school.\" That I do mean. Leo is a natural born leader that the school could rally behind. \"We,\" he says. \"We will accomplish many great things.\"\n\nI examine the shelve in front of me at the local grocery store picking up a few items my mother forgot while she waits in the car for me. \"Why don't you come over anymore,\" I barely hear. I look down from the store shelves and holding a doll clutched under her right arm is Victoria's young sister Brianna. I smile as a part of Victoria is looking up at me with sad, curious eyes like I have let her down. I lean down so I'm even in height with her. \"I missed you Brianna.\" \"Then why don't you come over,\" she asks again. I don't know how to respond to her but Victoria's mom, Barbara now stands next to Brianna. I stand up next to her, and without a second thought I hug her. I always loved Victoria as well as her family. After exchanging hugs, she holds me in front of her, scanning my face. \"Matt's been very busy with school Brianna, he misses you very much though,\" Barbara says. \"Yes, I miss everyone, especially you Brianna.\" I kneel back down and give Brianna a hug. I stand there catching up with the both of them. I feel like I'm the person I want to be when I'm around Victoria and her family. I miss Victoria's family, the family that had always welcomed me and showered me with love. I miss Victoria.\n\nI stand between Leo and Bruce in the backstage of the auditorium. The results of the Student Body Presidency are about to be announced. Bruce wears a black button down that shows his hairy chest with sunglasses hanging on the left collar. \"You really don't know what you're getting yourself into, don't you,\" says Bruce looking straight ahead into space. \"You will never be able to control the monster.\" \"And you have,\" Leo asks. \"Everything seems fine to me.\" \"That's because you shutter your eyes and choose to ignore all the wrong.\" \"And you shutter your eyes and choose to ignore all the right, the safety of your very own classmates,\" Bruce snaps back. \"You're willing to risk innocent lives for some transfer and foreign students, and a few junkies. You know you're the one we should fear. You're the Sheppard leading in its blind sheep right into a war.\" \"I will not sit back and hand this school over to corrupt out of fear,\" Leo responds. \"Of course you won't, just remember you're the one that will be leaving behind a mass grave. Not me,\" Bruce warns.\n\n# 9\n\nWhen Leo hears his named called as the new Student Body President, the auditorium erupts into a roar of ear-deafening applause. I smile and join in congratulating Leo on his victory. He embraces me before walking onto the stage as the new Student Body President. Leo takes in the moment, looking out into the vast array of students cheering for me. He smiles waiting for the applause to settle down.\n\n\"Today is an historic day. The future members of this school, whom will be sitting in the very seats you sit it in today, the very hallways you walk today, will look back at this day. As this is the day we said no. No to the corrupt affecting our lives! No to ignoring the mistreatment of our fellow students! Yes, ladies and gentleman I'm referring to the mistreatment of transfer and foreign student who came to this school for a chance to make something of themselves and to better themselves. We have let this occur at our school for way too long. Blame you, I do not for fear could drive us to forget and care about others for the safety of ours. As your Student Body President I assure you those days are now over, there is no need to fear because today we are one. Thank you and god bless.\"\n\nBruce leaves out the back exit, no longer the Student Body President. Leo set out what he wanted to accomplish. The school has put their faith in him, not in the corrupt.\n\nLeo and I walk down the abandoned section of the school transfer and foreign students used to occupy during the school day. \"Why don't you want to clean this part of the school,\" I ask. \"It reminds me that my real task is not done,\" Leo replies.\n\nI sit in my third period class on a Friday, anxious for the weekend to begin. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, so I take my phone out of my pocket quickly to see who texted me. I get out of my chair to head to the bathroom to look at the message Kayla had sent me, so Principal Burns doesn't catch me. Once in the bathroom I look the message on my phone. It reads \"Hey babe what are you doing later.\" \"Nothing planned, you,\" I text back. I get a quick response, \"Come to my house tonight, parents not home until Sunday.\" \"Okay,\" I send back. Again a quick response, \"Can't wait, love you.\" Loves me? What exactly was going on here? I don't know how to respond, so I don't. Besides I'll see her soon.\n\nI don't know what to expect when I go to Kayla's, but I decide to go. I text her to let her know I'm at her house.\n\n\"Hey,\" Kayla says opening the door to let me. \"Hey, how has it been since you know,\" I ask as I step into the house. \"I try not to think about it,\" she answers as she hugs me. \"Not everything was so bad that night,\" she finishes as she locks eyes with mine. \"You have amazing eyes,\" she says as she leans in to kiss me.\n\nI sit in her living room couch waiting for her as she gets beer from her refrigerator in the other room. She enters the living room. \"I hope Yeller Light is fine.\" \"It is,\" I respond. This is different from the last time I was over. I have one beer, she has one, and we are talking, scratching the surface of whom we really are. Although it feels like the beginning of my relationship with Victoria, that is not a bad thing. I like that I'm connecting with another person, getting to know them. When Kayla first came up to me and talked to me on my first day of high school I didn't believe I had a chance despite the fact I used to be with Victoria, but now I don't even think about it.\n\nAfter an hour or two of drinking and getting to know each other, we decide to watch a movie on Netflix. She cuddles with me in a blanket as we watch a comedy. Half way through the movie, I come to a realization of where I am. A beautiful girl that isn't Victoria, that I didn't know three months ago cuddled against me. I look at her, and I feel bad for my past self believing that there was nothing out there without Victoria. I loved Victoria, but I'm beginning to fall for Kayla.\n\nThe next morning Kayla drives us to diner for breakfast. We talk and laugh like we have known each other all our lives. There was no question about it, I was in fact falling for Kayla as the images and memories of Victoria were placed on the wayside.\n\n# 10\n\n\"You have a girlfriend,\" Mrs. Snow asks. I smile. Kayla and I have been sitting next to each other in class now, have been hanging out with each other more, but we haven't actually given it a title. \"Don't think I haven't noticed you two. I see the way you look at her,\" she says rubbing her hand up and down my leg. \"God, I wish someone looked at me the way you look at her,\" Mrs. Snow says unhappily. \"Do you think I'm attractive?\" \"Yes,\" I say without hesitating. She smiles and sits on my lap, her face facing mine. \"Tell me it again.\" \"You're very pretty.\"\n\n\"You have amazing eyes,\" she says before kissing me on my lips. I kiss her back. I can't handle it anymore. I give in to my sexual desire and lift up her shirt. She begins to take off mine. The thought and images of Kayla pop into my head and my sexual desire for Mrs. Snow settles. \"I can't,\" I say while unlocking the classroom door, leaving Mrs. Snow behind without looking back.\n\n\"Today's the day,\" Leo says to me as I enter the abandoned classroom. \"Today we make our first move.\" \"What do you mean,\" I ask. \"I wanted to wait until I was President, so I knew the school was behind me. That Pyramid Company truck is not just delivering food. It's smuggling in and out Fontane's drugs.\" \"Are you sure about this,\" I ask. \"Yes,\" he responds.\n\nI try to keep up with Leo as we attempt to get to the pickup zone in the back of the school before the trucks arrival.\n\nWe wait outside hidden in bushes in the cool November air. I hear the sound of the truck getting closer, and I see it park. We wait until a white male wearing a black knit winter hat gets out of the truck. Leo and I appear in front of the man from the bushes as he lifts open the back of the truck. I can't tell if he's nervous because he didn't expect anyone to come out of the bushes or because he's about to get caught. \"How you gentlemen doing today\", he asks taking boxes out of the truck. \"What's in those boxes you got in there,\" Leo asks. The man continues doing his job unpacking the truck. \"Ahh you know the usual chicken, burgers, pizza.\" He puts down the last package from the truck down. \"Could I help you with something,\" the confused man asks. Leo takes out a box cutter from his pants pocket. He opens all the boxes. \"What is this,\" Leo asks holding a clear zip lock bag with orange powder substance. \"I have no idea what that is,\" the man responds. \"How does 15 years in detention sound. You tell us everything and I'll make sure you don't spend a second in detention.\" \"You have no idea what you're doing kid. Put down the bag and walk away, and we'll all get on with our lives,\" the man says. Leo stares the man down. The man stares back and takes off. He runs into the school from the back entrance. Leo and I follow behind. We chase the man in the kitchen of the cafeteria. I come to a halt when I notice ladies in school cafeteria uniforms packaging what appears to be more orange powder on the counter tables. A drug lap and operation right in my own school. I'm disappointed and angry in what I'm witnessing.\n\n\"I got him by the way,\" shouts Leo. I walk toward Leo whose sitting on his knees on the man responsible for carrying out the smuggling. \"Get that radio from that table and call the hall monitors down here,\" he demands me.\n\nLeo and I follow the hall monitors as they transport the delivery man and lunch ladies to the detention cell. The detention cell is made up of cell blocks with one desk screwed to the floor facing out. The delivery man sits in the desk staring at us as we stare right back. \"You're going to be in there for a very long time unless you tell us about your operation. That goes for you too ladies\" says Leo. Leo walks down the aisle of cell blocks. No one says anything. Leo storms out. I follow. \"We don't need them anyway,\" he tells me while we walk through the hallways.\n\n# 11\n\nMrs. Snow asks me to stay after class again. \"People are going to start getting suspicious if you continue to ask me to stay after,\" I say. \"Are you happy,\" she asks while I'm pulling a chair up to her desk. \"With that girl,\" she adds. \"Yes, I like being with her.\" \"So people could be happy in their relationships,\" she asks. \"Of course,\" I respond. \"I want a fresh start, a chance to redo my life.\" Tears gradually stroll down her cheek. I would tell her again that she doesn't have to be so sad, but I have told her that many times and it seems to have not registered with her. \"Why don't you believe me when I say you don't have to be in your unhappy relationship,\" I ask. She wipes the tears from her eyes. \"I'm sorry I brought you into my misery, you don't care about my pathetic life. It was nice having someone to listen to me though. I thank you for that.\" \"Mrs. Snow I care about you, but you don't want to do anything about it, and.\" \"Please leave,\" she interrupts me. She turns away from me, so I get up and head for my next class.\n\n\"Let's see if anybody is in a mood to talk today,\" Leo tells me as I walk in to meet him in the abandoned classroom. We make our way through the school halls toward the detention cells.\n\n\"This is the last time I ask.\" Leo stops in his tracks while looking into a cell block. I catch up to him to see why he stopped. The lunch ladies and delivery man for the Pyramid Company who all assisted in running the drug operation in the school are dead. Blood drips to the floor from the mouth of one of the lunch ladies. Her wide dead eyes stare back at me. Leo advances deeper into the detention room while I stand in shock. I have never seen anything like what I'm witnessing outside of television before. \"Mike's dead,\" Leo informs me. I turn in his direction. \"Mike,\" I ask. \"The hall monitor on watch,\" he says. Blood covers the concrete floor in each of the occupied cell blocks. I rub my forehead. \"I need to go,\" I tell Leo.\n\nI lay in my bed talking on my cell phone to Kayla. After natural silence in talking with her a part of me wants to tell her what I witnessed today. I want to tell someone how I feel before my feelings overwhelm me. Another part of me is scared. Scared because the connection is clear who is responsible. Joey Fontane. There is no question that Leo and I now have gotten the attention of a monster. I want to protect Kayla from this harsh reality, so I decide not to tell her anything. \"I love you too,\" I say back to Kayla before ending the call. I slip out of my bed and look out my window as snow flurries float in the cool night air. The street lights outside illuminate the sidewalks. It's 10 pm and outside is silent. I imagine moms and dads lying in their beds holding hands under their warm blankets watching television, readying themselves for another day. I imagine the younger ones sleeping comfortably in their beds dreaming of faraway places. I close my curtains, shut my light and slide myself under my own warm blanket and let my dreams take me to another reality.\n\nI talk to Kayla before my first period class begins. I hear the door open, but it isn't Mrs. Snow. Instead Principal Burns and Assistant Principal James walk in. The class goes silent and looks at them. \"Students there is no easy way to say this, Mrs. Snow was reported dead last night. It was said to have been a suicide,\" Principal James tells us. The class is so silent I hear the sound of my own heart beat. \"Guidance counselors are always available if you want to talk,\" Principal Burns adds. \"We were unable to get a substitute teacher due to the timing, so you may stay here and complete any work that you have until second period or you could go to the gym. Again we're sorry to have to inform you of this tragic news. She was a valuable member of this school,\" Principal James says.\n\nI stand in the distance shivering in the cold air. I lean against the fence squinting. I barely make out who looks to be Mrs. Snow's husband with a boy and a girl that both look around the age of four or five. Because of me that little boy and girl will never have their mother growing up. I'm filled with guilt. I watch the ceremony occasionally wiping wet snow from my eyes. I should have done more. I should have never left her. It was ten minutes of my life. I should have just continued to listen to her. I shouldn't have upset her by pushing her. She was so young, so beautiful with her flowing blonde hair, but always a sadness about her. Her sad face is imprinted in my brain. I may have not technically done anything wrong, but I'm no hero either. I will now always be filled with this regret. That is the one thing that I do know. I watch her family and friends leave the area when the ceremony is over. I lean my head against the fence. \"Mrs. Snow I'm so sorry. I pray that you find the happiness that you deserve.\" I let the tears slide down my face.\n\nIt's the last day of school before Thanksgiving break. Leo is talking to me about a revolution to bring down Joey Fontane in our usual meeting spot in the abandoned classroom. \"We need to show Joey Fontane and his gang that together as a united school we will not easily bend.\" A loud bang and rumble of the floor beneath alert us both. \"What the fuck is going on,\" I ask. Leo runs out of the classroom. We follow the shouts and screams of terror. I'm afraid of what just happened. Judging from the screams and shouts I fear the worst. A dark cloud of smoke is seen coming from inside the cafeteria. I look around at the students around us. Their faces are bloodied and severely burned. I step over fingers and limps to get a look inside the cafeteria and notice that the roof at the other end is destroyed. Shouts come every direction. The cafeteria has the appearance of a warzone. Leo and I attempt to assist the students severely injured into the nurse's office for assistance. I look inside the cafeteria once more. There are dead bodies scattered all over. Chaos has arrived with a message from Joey Fontane, giving the student body something to ponder over during Thanksgiving break.\n\nI feel relieved when I see Victoria walking to her bus at the end of the day. I was fortunate the ones close to me did not die in the explosion. 60 fellow students are dead however, with over 100 in critical condition. The cause of the explosion is not yet known. That is only by technicality though because I know, Leo knows, and the rest of student body knows who was behind the attack. Joey Fontane either because Leo and I put a stop to his drug smuggling and drug lap or because he wants to crush the spirit of the school that believes together could defeat him, or maybe both.\n\n#  12\n\nBefore I left the school for Thanksgiving break I took from the main office Joey Fontane's file. Inside the file listed an address. I'm now on my way to that address. I didn't tell Leo about what I was planning to do. I need to know more about Joey Fontane.\n\n\"How long are you going to be,\" Steve's older brother asks. \"I don't know. I appreciate you driving me,\" I say handing him thirty dollars. \"I don't want your money.\" I put the thirty dollars back in my pocket. I didn't think he would take it.\n\n\"Try to be quick though. The roads are getting bad and its Thanksgiving,\" he says. \"I know,\" I say before closing the car door behind me. The house is small in size, and in terrible condition. I leave a trail of footprints behind me on the snow covered driveway.\n\nI knock on the front door. I hear someone inside, but no one answers the door, so I knock again. This time an old lady opens the door just enough so I could see her face. \"Yes,\" she asks. \"Is Joey Fontane here?\" The old lady looks at me. \"The snow is really coming down, come on in.\" She opens the door allowing me in. I close the front door behind be. The sound of the loud television startles me. An old, chubby shirtless man sits in his wheelchair four feet away from the television. The old lady limps slowly into her kitchen. The house is small but fitting for an older couple. I sit down on the couch in front of me. The old lady hands me a mug with steam coming out of it. \"Here have some hot chocolate.\" I take the mug and take a sip with both hands. \"Where is Joey,\" I ask after my first sip. \"He doesn't come here anymore,\" she responds. She walks over to a table with numerous picture frames. She picks one and hands it to me. I look at it. The boy in the picture looks around 6 years old. \"Are you his mother,\" I ask over the sound of the television. \"Oh no, poor kid lost both parents in a car accident when he was just 4 years old.\" I take another sip of the hot chocolate. \"How are you related to him?\" \"All I really know is that no one in his family wanted to take responsibility for him. So he was put up for adoption,\" the old lady answers. I notice her eyes get redder. \"I can't imagine how it must feel when your own family won't take you in. He started acting up when he realized that,\" she says while rubbing her eyes. \"You did nothing wrong, I know deep down inside he loves you more than he hates his family.\"\n\nShe nods and smiles at me. \"Would you like to have Thanksgiving here,\" she asks me. \"I appreciate it, but I must be getting back to my family, and the roads are starting to get bad.\" I get up from the couch as the old lady leads me to the door. \"Anytime you want to talk just come over,\" she says. \"I will, Happy Thanksgiving.\"\n\nSteve's brother drives cautiously on the snowy roads. The snow is coming down faster than before. \"Thank you, have a good Thanksgiving. Tell Steve Happy Thanksgiving too,\" I say. \"No problem I will.\" I close the car door behind me and walk slowly toward my front door so as not to slip in the snow. I brush myself off and join my mom, dad, sister back from college, and dog in the family room.\n\n# 13\n\n\"How was your break,\" Leo asks. \"Short,\" I say. \"I know how that is. It seems we spend all this time preparing for the holidays and then it goes by so fast.\" \"How do we respond to the attack,\" I ask changing the subject. \"Well first we make certain that the student body is still behind us.\" \"Why wouldn't they support bringing down the man they know is responsible for the attack?\" \"May I ask you Matt to go inside Fontane's mind, and tell me why you believe he attacked in the first place?\" \"I believe it was retaliation for bringing down his drug operation and to send a message.\" \"He wants the student body to go at war with itself. To crush any believe that we could bring him and his gang down once and for all. See Matt he knows that together he inevitably will lose the battle against a collected school,\" Leo says.\n\nThe student body waits restlessly in the vast auditorium for their Student Body President to reassure them. Leo walks onto the stage with a blue suit and matching tie, black hair greased back.\n\n\"On the last day before our recent Thanksgiving break, our high school, your high school was attacked. Many of our fellow classmates, friends and loved ones are still recovering from critical conditions. And many have fallen victim to the attack in the cafeteria, disrupting what should have been a joyous break with our families. We all sit here today in mourning, many grieving the ones we lost in the attack knowing who was responsible for it. Joey Fontane was behind the attack. His motives to scare us from rising against him, but we will not bend or concede to a man who will kill so easily. We will bring justice to the innocent lives that were lost.\"\n\nModerate applause fills the auditorium as Leo walks toward me in the back stage.\n\nThe next day I walk the hallways toward the abandoned classroom to meet Leo. I walk in to 5 other male students and 1 female student surrounding Leo in a circle. They all turn to me when they hear me come in. \"What's going on,\" I ask to no one in particular. \"Matt I want you to meet Nick, Jason, Collin, Charlie, Marcus, and the very lovely Olivia,\" Leo says while each one acknowledges me with a nod when their name is called. \"Hello,\" I say to them. \"Why are they here,\" I ask Leo. \"Hey man we're on your side,\" Marcus tells me. \"This is our assembled team in an attempt to assassinate Fontane. Fontane believes he is protected in what he has made his own part of the school,\" Leo informs me. I pull Leo to the side. \"What are we doing here,\" I ask Leo so only he could hear. \"It has to be done.\" \"We would be sending them on a suicide mission and you know it,\" I snap.\n\n\"We need to know what security we are dealing with before we send more than these 6. They will be wearing hidden cameras so we have an idea. Trust me they know what they are getting themselves into, but they also know that Fontane needs to be stopped.\" \"So what's the plan,\" I ask the group of brave students in front of me.\n\n\"I can't believe you never heard of this place,\" I tell Kayla. We both sit at a booth at _the shaking bar_. \"I really haven't, thanks for taking me here,\" Kayla says taking another sip out of her chocolate peanut butter marshmallow shake. I enjoy spending time with Kayla. She distracts me from the pain and the fear that consumes me while at school.\n\n# 14\n\n\"Sara Parker,\" I shout from a bench on her front porch. She looks at me probably curious to what I'm doing waiting for her. I rub my hands together as to warm them from the frigid December weather. \"Yes,\" she says. \"Joey Fontane.\" \"What about him,\" she asks. \"So you still remember him.\" \"He was frequent visitor of mine during his elementary school years.\" \"You mind if I come inside. This weather,\" I say. She opens the front door. \"I don't think so,\" she says closing the front door in front of me. I stop the door from closing with my foot. \"Sarah, I promise I won't take too much of your time.\" She gives up and signals for me to come inside. She takes a seat on her couch, so I do the same. \"Please tell me about him. As his guidance counselor you must know something about him.\" \"Yes and as a guidance counselor I have an ethical code to follow.\" \"Sarah, just tell me about him. That's all.\"\n\n\"He was a quieter kid around other students. Rarely shared or talked much to anybody. He would always talk to me though.\" Sarah rubs both her eyes with the palms of her hands. \"He was such a sweet kid, but I always saw the burden he carried in his eyes. \"The burden from his parents and not being wanted by anybody in his family,\" I say. She nods her head in agreement. \"I would just talk to him; let him know that there are people that care about him.\" I notice her eyes are red with dried up tears. \"You cared about him,\" I say. \"I was the only one that really related with him.\" \"Did you have a relationship with him,\" I ask going with a hunch. She looks up at me in astonishment. \"Did you,\" I repeat. \"Not one in which you are implying. We confided in each other that's all.\" \"Did you love him?\" \"Please leave I told you all that I could say.\"\n\nBelieving that I wasn't going to get any more information from her I get up from the couch and leave. I walk down her driveway shivering. I hear the front door open and I turn around. \"Why did you want to know about him,\" Sara asks me. \"I want to know who I'm dealing with,\" I shout so she could hear me from the distance between us. I turn around again for the last time as I continue down her driveway.\n\n#  15\n\n\"Each of you will have a camera attached to you. What each of you see will be shown and recorded on these televisions,\" Leo says pointing to the televisions sitting on the desk in front of him. \"Let's fucking go,\" Marcus shouts. Leo gets up from his chair and walks across the room, and unlocks a closet with a key. The closet is full of weapons. \"Here are your weapons,\" Leo says opening the closet. He hands a pistol to each of the brave students willing to go on this mission to bring down Joey Fontane. He also hands each one smoke grenades and explosive grenades along with extra clips of pistol ammo. \"Remember the plan, each take your respective routes into the compound and converge in the center of the compound, and find and kill Joey Fontane.\" The team gets amped up.\n\n\"Do you hear me? I repeat do you hear me,\" Leo asks through a tiny microphone clutched in his right hand.\" Each team member confirms that their ear pieces are indeed working. Leo pulls Marcus aside while the others are gearing up, preparing themselves for the upcoming mission. \"Marcus who must lead them,\" Leo tells him. Marcus, a built black male with buzzed hair nods his head in agreement. \"Gentlemen.\" \"And ladies,\" Olivia interrupts Marcus. \"Yes and ladies move out,\" Marcus tells his team.\n\nI follow Leo to the desk with the televisions on them. We watch the team make its way through the massive school to Fontane's compound. The team disperses in different directions. From the televisions I see Marcus and Nick are the only ones not going through the vents. \"We are going to surround the room,\" Leo tells me with his eyes focusing from one television to the next. Marcus and Nick take opposite sides of the hallway leading to the entrance of Fontane's compound. \"Front is in position, I repeat front in position,\" Marcus say's in almost a whisper through his headset. \"I saw around 5 guys guarding the entrance Nick,\" Marcus says. \"Copy that,\" Nick responds. \"Hold until my word, I repeat hold until my word,\" Leo demands. \"Copy,\" says Marcus. \"Copy,\" says Nick. \"Copy,\" says Olivia. \"Copy,\" says Jason. \"Copy,\" say's Collin. \"Copy,\" says Charlie.\n\nFinally everyone informs Leo that they are in their position and ready. \"Mission is a go,\" Leo says. Marcus and Nick surprise the five guards guarding the front and take them out with ease and head inside. Once inside there is more resistance. They take cover behind a desk. Joey Fontane's compound is decorated with many fine furnishings. Not what I expected the compound to look like. Instead it resembles a successful office lobby you would see in a city. \"Nice set up he got,\" I say out loud. Leo turns to look at me before turning his attention back to the televisions. From the televisions I notice the team has the room surrounded. Sounds of firing guns ring through my headset. Finally the sound stops. Marcus steps over dead bodies in the center of the room. \"No sign of Fontane,\" he says. \"Please don't shoot,\" an unarmed man lifts his arms up. \"Hold fire,\" Leo shouts through the headset. \"Do you know him,\" I ask Leo. \"That's Jerry Manual, one of the smartest kids in this school.\"\n\n\"Search the rest of the compound for Fontane, and come back to base with that unarmed man unharmed,\" Leo demands through the headset. \"Copy that,\" Marcus says. \"What the fuck is he doing there,\" Leo mumbles to himself. I watch Marcus's television. He walks to other rooms searching for Fontane. \"If he's not there, then where is he,\" I ask Leo. \"I don't know.\" \"We need to go more armed men will surely come,\" Jerry tells the team while Olivia holds his arms behind his back. I hear a gun shot through my headset. There are more armed men coming. \"Shit no sign of anybody else but we got resistance on the way, blocking the front door,\" Marcus tells Leo. \"Copy, your new mission is to get Jerry safely back, I need to know what he knows,\" Leo says. \"Leave through the vents you came from, I'll hold them off,\" Marcus shouts. Everyone looks at him for a moment. \"Go. Fucking go,\" he shouts. The resistance has arrived and Marcus fires his pistol from behind cover while the rest of team safely enter the vents they broke in from leaving Marcus alone to fight an entire army. Marcus is successfully maneuvering around the room, finding cover behind furnishings and killing targets. The resistance keeps coming though. Marcus is out of ammo. He slides his pistol away in frustration and takes out his explosive grenade. The room explodes in front of him. He now has time to make a run for the vents.\n\nEveryone has survived the mission. The bad news is Joey Fontane wasn't in the compound he was thought to be in. The only thing gotten out of the mission is a man named Jerry, thought to be one of the smartest in the school by Leo.\n\nOlivia pushes Jerry into the room. Leo see's the rest of the team arriving and gets up from his chair. He studies the prisoner closely. Marcus arrives last. The rest of the team gives him a head nod, glad that he is still alive.\n\n\"This shit is crazy. All that security in there and he's not even in there,\" Marcus says tossing his headset to the side. \"Take a seat Jerry,\" Leo demands. I pull up a chair for him to sit in. \"What the fuck were you doing in Joey Fontane's compound.\" \"We are all in danger,\" Jerry frantically yells. \"Calm down Jerry and explain yourself.\" \"I was there working on a weapon. A weapon that could kill us all,\" Jerry says taking off his glasses wiping sweat from his forehead. \"This weapon will blanket the entire school from the air vents in the ceilings throughout the school. I'm sorry I'm not making any sense. This weapon will spread orange vapor through the air vents, and anyone who breathes it in will become addicted to Fontane's orange drug or whatever street name they had given it. Whoever breathes in this orange vapor will become severely weakened with their entire body system dependent on this drug, in essence making them a constant buyer of Fontane's new drug. If the drug is not consumed they will die. In how much time I'm not sure, but they eventually will die within 1 or 2 weeks at the most,\" Jerry tells us. \"Get the fuck out of here,\" Olivia says out loud. \"Jerry, are you telling me you helped built this weapon,\" Leo asks. \"No I'm telling you I did build it.\" \"Why would you do this Jerry?\" \"I don't know,\" Jerry looks down at the floor panicky.\n\nLeo pounds his fist forcefully onto his desk. \"Is the weapon ready to be used at this moment,\" Marcus asks. \"It's in the testing stages, but yes I do believe it works. I was working on it today downstairs. I came upstairs to leave to gun fire all around me,\" Jerry says. \"Well that's just too bad for you. I'll send you flowers in the mail you fucking idiot,\" Marcus says angrily. \"What do you mean downstairs,\" I ask. Everyone turns in my direction then back at Jerry. \"Yeah I don't remember seeing a downstairs,\" Olivia says. \"In the center of the room there is code pad, once the correct code is entered the small circular hidden elevator goes down,\" Jerry answers. \"So you know how to get to the weapon, and destroy it,\" Leo asks Jerry. \"Yes there is a way to turn off the reactor to the weapon. There is only one side effect of doing that.\" \"And what is that,\" Leo asks. \"The reactor will explode and set off bombs throughout the school, as the weapon extends through the school's air vents,\" Jerry answers. \"It's a dam suicide mission and we need to clear the school before attempting it,\" Marcus says pointing out the obvious.\n\nLeo talks to the rest of the team about a strategy about how to deal with the weapon that would make anyone who breathes in its vapor dependent on Fontane's drug and if they don't comply ultimately will die. \"Why did you do it,\" I ask Jerry standing next to him. \"No reason is good enough to explain my actions.\" I nod in agreement. There is nothing he could say to justify what he did. I stand reflecting on the situation around me and am startled when I hear shouts coming from the hallways. All of us including Jerry enter the hallway to orange vapor coming toward us down the hallway from the left. Leo runs down the opposite end of the hall and pulls the fire alarm. The sound of it rings through my ears. Marcus fires rounds into the grimy window in the classroom. The window shatters and the cool December air chills me. We make our way outside through the now shattered window. We run through the snow covered grass only slowing when we're a safe enough distance away from the school. We make it to the front of the building with other members of the student body. I notice some students crawling on the ground, shaking. Jerry points to one of them and tells me he is affected by the weapon. \"I have to go back in and destroy it,\" Leo says frantically. \"I'll go too, you're going to need my help in destroying it,\" Jerry says. Leo nods in agreement. \"I'll go too, you're going to need someone with a good shot,\" Marcus says. \"The rest of you stay here Matt is going to need you,\" Leo says before anyone else volunteers for the suicide mission.\n\nMarcus talks with the rest of his team for the last time. Jerry stands by himself ready to die destroying the weapon he helped create. \"This school is going to need you more than ever. Promise me that you will finish what we started and not let Joey Fontane scare you or the rest of the student body into giving in,\" Leo asks of me. \"I promise,\" I tell him assuredly. \"It was a pleasure meeting you,\" he says extending his hand. He turns to Marcus, \"are you ready.\" \"Yes.\" Marcus takes the pistols and clips still in the teams procession and hands some to Leo. Marcus turns to look at his team and I one last time with a smile on his face. Leo, determined to destroy the weapon doesn't turn around. Soon they are gone from sight as they make their way back into building. I will know if they succeed in destroying the weapon by the explosions that follow. I look around at the student body that was able to make it out to the front of the building. I notice the ones affected by the weapon and call an ambulance. I check my phone; I received a message from Kayla asking if I'm okay. I text her back telling her I'm alright. She tells me she is on the left side of the building, so I go there to meet her. I see Victoria talking with her friends and I feel relieved that she is okay. Kayla see's me first and hugs me from behind.\n\n\"I thought I lost you,\" she says. While we share a passionate kiss I hear the chain reaction of explosions go off in the school letting me know that Fontane's weapon was destroyed.\n\n# 16\n\nI sit in a chair next to Steve lying on his hospital bed. Many fellow classmates were affected by the orange vapor they inhaled. Many of them are about die; others were able to pay a premium price for Fontane's drugs to keep them alive longer. The drugs will keep them alive, but they never will be the same people they were. Steve decided he didn't want to rely on Fontane's drugs to keep him alive, so Steve lies in the hospital bed on Christmas Eve prepared for death's arrival. His family enters the hospital room. I get up from my chair to apologize to them about the situation that confronts them. \"I'm so sorry,\" I say standing alongside Steve's older brother. He just stares at his younger brother not taking his eyes off of him. \"You didn't do anything, just make sure Fontane pays for what he has done,\" he finally says. \"He won't get away with it. I'll make sure of it,\" I say. He smiles. \"Good.\"\n\nI'm seated on my living room couch near the Christmas tree. My dog lays his head on my lap as I pet him. My sister and I wait for my parents to come in from the kitchen. I remember when Christmas used to be a magical day. As I have gotten older though the day feels like any other day, and the happiness on Christmas doesn't come as easy as it used to. Today especially I don't feel like celebrating, not after everything that has been happening around me. People are dying or have already died, and I made a promise to Leo that I will continue what we started, but I struggle in how to go about that promise. My parents enter the living room in their pajamas with a cup of coffee in their hand.\n\nMy mom hands me a present from under the tree. She still writes from Santa on the presents.\n\nLater, while my mom and dad are in the kitchen I go outside to walk my dog. My dog and I walk on the sidewalk that is barely covered with snow. With light flurries getting in my eyes I take out my phone to call Kayla to wish her a happy holiday.\n\nBack from Holiday break with the New Year upon us, I sit in my first period class to start the new semester. My teacher turns on the television for the mourning announcements.\n\n\"Good morning fellow students, I'm Brandon and to my right the beautiful Sage. A lot happened during our holiday break. First, our very own Principal Burns was arrested for stealing cell phones and reselling them on his own personal eBay account.\" \"Later today our new Student Body President will hold a press conference in the auditorium,\" Sage says.\n\nThe television screen goes blank and cuts to Olivia, Nick, Collin, Charlie, and Jason. The members of the team sent on the mission to kill Fontane. They are tied with hands behind back to chairs with a manila rope. \"Hello students.\" It's Joey Fontane. He wears messy, uncombed brown hair with a black undershirt. He tosses a combat knife between his hands. He goes behind Olivia's chair. \"You naïve, stupid people talk about how you could bring me down. I just can't allow this type of behavior from you.\" He slides the blade of his knife lightly across Olivia face. \"If this continues, more of your fellow classmates will.\" He sticks the blade of the knife into Olivia's heart. Blood pours from her mouth. \"Die,\" he finishes. I look around at the students in the classroom as they look at the television in fear. \"Your former President is dead. My fellow students it's your duty to make sure you're new one doesn't continue to wage a war against me risking your own lives in the process.\" I look at the television one last time and storm out of the classroom.\n\n\"Tough viewing,\" says a man clutching a hand gun in his right hand in the abandoned classroom. \"Relax I'm not here to kill you,\" he says placing his gun on the desk in front of him. \"You know I never been to this part of the school. I guess that's what makes it such a good spot.\" \"It's where the transfers and foreign students would stay, while Joey Fontane took away their most important right, education. No one stood up to the cruelty and the wrong that was going on because we were all scared and choose to ignore what was happening. We fooled ourselves into thinking that everything was fine, because we were safe, so transfer and foreign students seeing no other path ended up in Fontane's system, supporting the very man who put them in that desperate position,\" I say. The man interrupts me, \"I don't need any convincing against Fontane the guy is evil, and will do anything for control over this school.\" \"Why are you here,\" I ask. \"You're going to need a little protection from other students who will be after you after today's little threat or even from Fontane and his gang themselves. Either way you're going to need protection,\" he says. \"What is your name?\" \"How rude of me, names Colt,\" he extends his hand out.\n\nColt and I walk through the hallways heading to the backstage of the auditorium for me to deliver my first speech as Student Body President. \"Tell me about yourself,\" Colt asks as we weave through the halls. \"Not much to say, I'm just a normal kid.\" \"You have a girlfriend,\" he asks. \"I do. What about you?\" \"I did but now I don't.\" I open the backstage door. \"Do you really think one of my fellow classmates will try to kill me,\" I ask. \"I don't know, but I do know it's a real possibility.\" I walk onto the stage nervously with Colt walking alongside me, handgun hidden from sight.\n\n\"Earlier this morning we all were witnesses to Joey Fontane's wrath. The people that were murdered this mourning would not want their deaths to lead us into giving into Joey Fontane's demands. It may seem like an impossible task to keep moving forward, but paving a way to change is not easy. We're not just doing this for ourselves but for future generations who step into our school.\"\n\n\"How do you know what the murdered victims would want,\" I hear someone in the audience shout. \"Besides the obvious reason of being murdered by him is because those brave men and women were part of an assembled team that broke into Fontane's compound with the mission of killing him. Our former President and another member of that team were responsible for destroying that orange vapor weapon that took so many lives knowing that in doing so was a suicide mission.\"\n\n\"So you're responsible for all of this death and destruction,\" people shout from different directions. \"No, no Joey Fontane is evil and needs to be stopped or he may never be stopped,\" I shout. The crowd is getting more aggressive. Colt pulls me into the backstage and we head back to the abandoned classroom. \"We're losing them,\" I tell Colt angrily. \"This is exactly what Leo did not want to happen, the school losing faith in what's right.\"\n\n\"Could you blame them, they are scared look at what they been through,\" Colt says. \"And what, they don't think I'm scared too.\" \"All I'm saying is they are scared and looking for a way out.\" \"I need you to assemble a team that you trust to watch the hallways, and I don't know find and kill Joey Fontane,\" I say. \"Consider it done,\" Colt says.\n\n\"Kayla talks about you all the time,\" Kayla's mom informs me at the dinner table. \"Mom, stop it.\" I smile at Kayla and then at her mom. I take a bite of the chicken on the plate in front of me. \"Chicken is very good; don't tell my mom I said that though. I like her to think her cooking is the best.\" Kayla's mom and dad laugh, \"Of course, now that's a good son.\" \"Oh Kayla the letter from Sale University came in the mail today,\" Kayla's mom tells her scooping a spoonful of mash potatoes on her plate. \"Thanks mom I'll look at it later.\" \"What major are you interested in,\" I ask. \"Accounting, I like working with numbers and the stories they tell. I know it's weird.\" \"No, it's not.\" \"Anyway Sale University has one of best accounting programs, so fingers cross that I get accepted.\" \"Fingers will be crossed,\" I say.\n\nKayla and I wash the dirty dishes over the kitchen sink. \"Thanks for coming over. I know my parents loved you.\" \"It was great to finally meet them,\" I say.\n\n\"Sale University, that's kind of far isn't it,\" I ask already knowing the answer. \"It is,\" she says. \"Listen I don't know what I'm doing yet, so I rather not talk about it.\" \"I love you, you know.\" I kiss her and she kisses me back. \"I know you do.\" \"Whatever you decide I'll support your decision,\" I tell her. She smiles at me then picks up another dish in the sink to wash.\n\nI enter the abandoned classroom to Colt standing in front of a line of 3 girls and 5 guys. \"Hello Colt, how are you today,\" I ask. \"I assembled a team of trusted men and women.\" \"I see that, and what are their names,\" I ask in their direction. \"This here is Melissa, this is Caroline, this is Samantha, this is Thomas, this is Mike, this is Lance, this is Robert, and finally this Justin,\" Colt tells me the names going down the line. Colt takes out a map and pins it to board in front of the classroom. \"I have already assigned areas for each of the team to watch for any suspicious behavior, and of course to kill Joey Fontane and anyone associated with him,\" Colt finishes. \"Looks like you're ahead of the game, good work Colt.\"\n\n\"You were all selected because of your skill. Any information you find related to the whereabouts of Fontane you let both Colt and I know.\" They all tell me they understand. I walk to the map that Colt pinned to the board in the front and study each person's assigned areas of the school. \"We start now, go your assigned positions,\" I say. The assembled team departs the classroom.\n\n# 17\n\n\"I'll have the chocolate shake,\" Colt tells the waitress. \"I'll have the same,\" I say. Colt looks at his shake when it arrives on the table and takes a sip. \"Now this is what a chocolate shake was meant to taste like,\" he tells me. \"Look at that stud muffin walking in.\" I turn around to see Victoria walking in. \"That girl was the first girl I loved,\" I share with Colt. \"First,\" he repeats. \"She broke up with me before the school year.\"\n\n\"Dam, but you told me you had a girlfriend, that's good. Some people I swear insist that there is no other girl out there they could have a relationship with after a break up with their first true girlfriend,\" Colt says. \"I admit I was one of those people,\" I tell Colt. \"Oh well at least you now know how ridiculous that is,\" he says. \"Yeah I guess so, but I will always feel that I'm connected with her.\" Colt suddenly stops drinking his shake. \"I was going to propose to my first real girlfriend after this year, sometime in the summer,\" Colt tells me. \"Really, what happened there,\" I ask. \"She died in the explosion in the cafeteria.\" Colt reaches into his pocket and takes out a wedding ring. I stop drinking my shake and stare at it lying on the table in front of me.\n\nI walk toward the front entrance of the school to start another day. I notice a crowd blocking the entrance. I maneuver my way through the crowd, and then I see why a crowd built up near the front entrance. A dead body severely burned hangs from a rope around his neck from the top of the door hinge. Colt notices me near the front of the entrance and assists me in getting the body down.\n\nI sit in my first period class. I notice others looking at me angrily. I try to focus on the words coming out of my professor's mouth. I believe that the student body will turn on me, giving in to Fontane's demand. The television unsuspectedly turns on. Joey Fontane appears. He holds the shaking handheld camera close to his face. \"I warned you more people will get hurt. Let me make this clear. Until the new president is dead, I may see the need to blow things out of proportion. Stay tuned classmates,\" says Joey Fontane laughing through the television set before it goes blank.\n\n\"Killing me won't solve anything, he just wants us to turn on each other,\" I say standing up. \"Yeah and what the fuck have you and your administration accomplished. More and more are dying every day, and what have you done,\" says another classmate standing up. The other classmates stand up around me in agreement. I storm out of the situation in the classroom. \"There he is, kill him,\" a mob of students shout near the end of the hallway. More and more students are getting out of their classroom crowding the hallway. \"He's not responsible. Joey Fontane is, you want to give into a terrorist demand,\" another shouts. One student punches the jaw of another. Chaos ensues in the hallway. Fellow students and classmates are brawling against each other. A school clearly divided. \"Come on we have to get out here,\" Colt says tugging my arm. I follow running to the abandoned classroom. \"This is not good, not good at all,\" I say pacing the floor. \"I'm a dead man.\" \"You're not a dead man Matt, I'll get more people on our security team to watch you,\" Colt says. \"At what cost, what's the end game?\" My mind races with thoughts. \"Why is Fontane doing this, I mean why is he really doing this?\" \"Besides your motives for killing him,\" Colt asks. \"No, what is Fontane's end game.\" \"He has no real end game Matt, the guy is unstable, is evil, evil people don't have reasons or motives behind their actions. That's what makes them so evil.\"\n\n\"Ah there you guys are,\" Colt says as his assembled team enters the classroom. \"The hallways are crazy right now,\" Melissa informs us. \"Robert, guard the entrance to this hallway just in case.\" \"Copy that Colt.\" My phone vibrates. Kayla is calling me. I answer the phone. \"Hello Kayla.\" \"Are you okay?\" I can tell she is crying. \"Kayla, please don't cry I'm okay. Get in a safe place, you hear me.\" \"Okay,\" she assures me. \"Baby I love you but I have to go I'll talk to you later.\" I love you too,\" she says.\n\nGun shots could be heard from outside in the hallway. \"Shit there are more coming,\" Robert shouts retreating into the classroom. He occasionally sticks his head from the door firing his hand gun at his fellow students in the hall. \"Are you killing them,\" I ask. \"I have no choice man they are trying to kill me,\" he yells. \"Let's get the fuck out of here,\" Colts says pointing to the shattered window. We race to the window and jump toward safety. Robert and Melissa are the last ones to exit from the window continuing to fire at students behind them. Finally, they land steadily on their feet from the 4 foot drop from the window and we all run in the snowy grass. Each of us is shivering because we were not prepared to go outside in the cool early February temperatures.\n\nWe make camp in the nearby woods that surround and isolate the school campus. Colt makes a fire to warm us up. \"This is lovely, a nice camp fire,\" Robert says sarcastically. \"We need to organize those who are on our side, the right side,\" Justin says warming his hands in the fire. \"I'm sure we're all against Fontane. They are just,\" I say before being interrupted. \"Just wrong, and there's nothing else to it. You're either on the right side or the wrong side. There is no in-between,\" exclaims Justin. He is convinced with his opinion so I say no more.\n\n\"Tomorrow, we meet here. In the mean time recruit men and women who are on our side. Matt I'll be driving you to and from school for now on,\" Colt says.\n\nColt drives with the car radio playing low. The trees branches covered with snow outside look so peaceful that I just gaze out my window while Colt drives. \"Could you drive me to my girlfriends,\" I ask. \"No problem, just tell me how to get there,\" he says. \"Thank you,\" I tell Colt before closing the car door behind me. I knock on Kayla's front door. Kayla immediately opens the door. I embrace her and hold her against me. She wipes tears from her face. \"I was worried about you,\" she says. I lift her chin so her eyes lock with mine. \"I'm here now,\" I say as we share a passionate kiss.\n\nI wrap my arm around her as we lay in her bed. As we're cuddled together in bed I admire her beauty while her eyes fight off tiredness, until eventually her eyes shut. I gently brush her hair away from her face and kiss her good night. I sleep peacefully with the girl I love beside me. I don't want the mourning to arrive.\n\n# 18\n\nColt and I arrive at the spot in the woods we made camp the day before. Over 30 men and women glance at me when we arrive. \"We have gotten you an army,\" says Justin. \"I see that,\" I say. I turn to see Colt sitting on a snow covered log observing the school ahead in the distance. \"Are you alright,\" I ask walking toward him. \"Ah yes just sometimes my mind wanders.\" I look at the school in the distance along with Colt. \"I will always love this school and all the memories they hold,\" Colt says. \"Colt and Matt are you coming over or what,\" Justin shouts. \"What was her name,\" I ask. \"Nicole.\" Colt sighs. \"She always made me laugh. Great sense of humor, I always loved that about her.\" I pat Colt on the shoulder. \"We should be getting back.\"\n\nColt's original assembled team hands out handguns and ammo to the 30 new members of the team. \"Anyone who doesn't know how to use the gun in their hands please head over there,\" Samantha says pointing deeper into the woods where the rest of original team is. I wait while they teach the new recruits how to use their handguns.\n\n\"Okay we're ready,\" shouts Justin. I get up wiping the snow off my pants. We decide to break off into smaller teams entering the building from different entry ways. I'll be teamed with Colt and 4 other new recruits. My team is to enter from the shattered window in the abandoned classroom.\n\nWe silently stride through the snow covered terrain toward the shattered window. I look up from cover beneath the window and spot two male students armed with semi-automatic pistols inside. Colt takes the left side of the window while I take the right. On his signal I rise from cover at the edge of the window, aim, and then fire as I kill one of the two guards. Colt kills the other as he climbs into the classroom. He tells us to stay behind. He crosses the classroom and peeks out the door into the hallway then signals for us to enter. I'm the first of the team to make my way into the abandoned classroom. \"Team window in position,\" says Colt into his headset. The other teams confirm they got our message. \"Very creative team name we have,\" says one of the new recruits. We all turn and give him a look. \"What I'm just saying,\" he says.\n\nOur team moves cautiously through the school, weaving through the halls. Colt motions for us to stop at a corner of a hallway as the voices of armed students could be heard. Colt takes a quick glance around the corner of the hall. \"I see around 20 or so. Get ready,\" he advises. \"On three,\" he says.\n\n\"One.... Two.... Three.\" We all emerge from the corner of the hallway open firing aiming at the armed students. Sounds of gun fire surround me. A smoke grenade goes off and suddenly I am blinded. I walk further into the hall feeling the walls in an attempt to find a door knob of a classroom as the sound of guns firing persist. Disoriented I find and open a classroom door and collapse onto the floor of the empty classroom and cough and cough. I shield my eyes from the bright fluorescent lights.\n\nMoments later I lift myself up from the classroom floor. I hold my handgun aimed in front of me as I cautiously reenter the hall. The smoke is beginning to clear. Lifeless bodies are scattered throughout the hallway. \"You're still alive,\" I hear Colt's voice say. \"Down here mate.\" Further down the hall Colt lies with his head against the wall clutching a gun wound with both his hands. \"Oh shit shit shit. Somebody, anybody come in I need assistance,\" I shout frantically through my headset. \"It's over buddy\". I take my shirt off and wrap it around his gun wound.\n\n\"Let me go join Nicole. Let me go Matt,\" Colt says. \"You're going to make it. You're going to be fine,\" I say with my voice cracking. \"A dog with a very spacious lawn because we want to invite people over for barbeques in the summer,\" Colt says. \"Nicole would have liked you Matt, you would definitely have been invited to our barbeques.\" \"Don't give up on me Colt, not now, I need you.\" Colt's eyes close for the last time. The rest of the team or what's left of them joins me near Colt departed body moments later. \"He didn't make it,\" I say wiping my eyes dry. \"What did we do,\" I say out loud to no one in particular as I step over numerous lifeless bodies just to get to the end of the hallway.\n\n\"Well we started with 37 people before the attack and now we're down to 10,\" Mike say's shaking his head. \"The only positive is the resistance for those who support not going after Fontane should be lighter if not at all,\" says Justin. \"There is no other positive we killed our fellow classmates instead of going after who we really should've been going after,\" I shout. \"You don't think I fucking know that! We did this for you. They were going to kill you! We couldn't let that happen. Don't you fucking see that you and Leo started something? Leo's dead but you're not, if we lose you no one will ever stand up against Fontane again,\" Justin shouts back. I have not thought of myself as a symbol to stand up against the corrupt before.\n\n\"I'm sorry it's been a rough day,\" I say. \"For all of us,\" Samantha says setting up logs she collected to start a fire.\n\nI sit by myself away from the camp fire on the same snow covered log Colt sat on earlier reflecting on all the ones who were lost today. I like to think that Colt is happily reunited with Nicole in heaven. I notice a pack of deer in the distance. A baby deer struggles to walk in the snow as it makes an effort to catch up with the rest of its family.\n\n# 19\n\nThe month has been peaceful for the school compared to previous months. Security has been tightened in the hallways. The vicinity of the school which consisted of Fontane's compound and what we thought contained Fontane is now abandoned, and his whereabouts are not yet known. To get through the remaining months of the school year, our team's primary goal has shifted to making sure other attacks don't occur.\n\n\"Maybe he's dead,\" a team member says entering the abandoned classroom. I look out from the shattered window, the warm March breeze whistling past me assures me that spring is arriving. \"I don't think he is,\" I say finally.\n\nStudents who still cling onto the belief that good will prevail arrive into the vast and unfilled auditorium. The students are seated spread out from each other since an abundant amount of empty seats remain.\n\nA month since the school went to war with itself; the school is still picking up the pieces left. Division among students is still prevalent, as violence still occurs though on rarer occasion.\n\nI walk onto the auditorium stage not the least surprised by the limited amount of students whom decided to show up. I stand at the podium looking out at the faces of the crowd. I don't hear anything but my left chest is in sudden pain, blood is falling onto the stage on which I stand.\n\nI slam hard onto the ground as Justin unsuspectedly tackles me. I hear shouts and screams as I lay on my back on the stage.\n\nI open my eyes to the sight of Justin knelling close to me. \"Where am I, what happened,\" I ask perplexed. \"You've been shot,\" Justin says observing me closely. \"We have a shooter in the auditorium, assistance needed,\" Justin shouts frantically through his headset. I hear more gunshots and screams. \"Stay here,\" Justin demands me. My eyes start to close.\n\nMy eyes reopen. \"Look whose finally up,\" Justin says looking down at me from the floor. \"What happened, the auditorium, what happened,\" I ask. \"Some nut who believed that killing you is the answer to the Fontane problem tried to kill you. I lift myself up from the floor. \"How many people died,\" I ask. \"Only 3 are dead, around 15 got injured,\" he replies. \"Only 3?\" \"I'm sorry, after this school year 3 seems like such a small number, I hate myself for having that mindset,\" Justin says.\n\n\"Why are these people listening to Fontane? And why would they try to kill me while the school has been in moderate peace for the past month. Fontane has not attacked. It has only been our own students doing the attacking,\" I say.\n\n\"At first it could have been because they were scared and believed or wanted to believe that giving into his threat will solve everything. Now it may be because we killed their friends or loved ones in the war. Heck Fontane doesn't have to do anything. He already has the school against each other,\" Justin says. I grimace while I touch my gun wound. \"Yeah you may not want to touch that. Fortunately, you're going to be okay though.\"\n\n\"Thank you by the way,\" I say. \"For saving me out there,\" I finish. Justin waves his hand at me, \"Don't thank me,\" he says.\n\nI get into the front passenger seat of Justin's car. We drive past the campus baseball field on the driver's side. \"Colt was my best friend growing up. We use to always go this field at the park near our house to play baseball. Passing that field reminds me of him every day. We grew apart as the years went along. Not that we hated each other, we just befriended different people and hung out less and less and less until we didn't hang out at all,\" Justin tells me.\n\n\"I used to have a best friend. We would hang out and come up with one crazy thing to do after another. There was this one time we tied a rope to my bike and my best friend, Mike, held the rope sitting on a skateboard behind the bike, while I rode down this steep hill. Let's just say it didn't end that well, but we laughed about it for months,\" I say laughing. \"What happened to him?\" \"He moved. At first we communicated by phone but that became less frequent and then eventually not at all. I have pretty much the same friends since I was younger because I'm so quiet,\" I say.\n\n\"I don't get the impression that you're a quiet,\" Justin says. \"If you knew me before you wouldn't agree with that,\" I say. \"Maybe, but life is about making improvements. Your still in high school, you'll continue to grow and become the person you're comfortable being. Trust me I'm a junior and I have learnt so much about myself since I started high school and I'm finally comfortable with whom I am.\" Justin says.\n\n# 20\n\nBack from a walk around the development with Kayla, I take her hand and lead her into the kitchen. \"You know you mean so much to me,\" I say. I knee down in front of her with one legged propped up. She looks down at me, her green eyes glistening in the sunlight. I extend my right hand into my pocket. \"Kayla, will you?\" She cups her hands over her mouth. \"Let me be your prom date.\" She takes a deep breath. \"I thought you were going to ask me to marry you. And yes I want to go to prom with you,\" she says. I get up from the floor and hand her two prom tickets. I never liked dancing, but I didn't want Kayla, who is a senior to miss out on a memorable and special night. I place my hands on her back and lean in closer to kiss her. \"I really can't wait to go, I love you,\" she says. \"I love you too,\" I say back without any hesitation. We hear her parents enter from the front door, so we move a short distance away from each other. \"What are you love birds up to today,\" Kayla's mom asks carrying grocery bags in her hands. \"Just hanging out, are there any other bags I could bring in for you,\" I ask. \"Actually, yes there are a few more in my trunk,\" she says. \"I'll bring them in,\" I say.\n\n\"Justin,\" I call out from the opposite end of the hallway. \"What's up,\" he shouts. He walks toward me lowering his gun. \"How is it in this part of the school,\" I ask. \"Nothing out of the ordinary,\" he says. \"The little civil war has calmed down. Still no sign or clue to Joey Fontane's whereabouts though. Did you really come here to check on me?\" \"I been checking with everybody, it's been too quiet. Not that I'm complaining about it, but it doesn't make any sense,\" I say. \"Well the security has been good, so I wouldn't worry too much,\" Justin assures me. \"People like Fontane don't just go down quietly,\" I say.\n\n\"Follow that car,\" I yell frantically at Justin from the passenger seat. My body slams against the car door as the car makes a sharp right turn at the last second. I rush out of the car as soon as Justin parks the car at an old pub. \"Bruce,\" I shout. \"Following me I see,\" he says. I walk up to him, as his driver opens the pub door for us. He takes off his sunglasses as we enter a dim lit pub. Bruce and his driver both take a seat in a booth. I sit opposite of them. \"What do you want to drink,\" Bruce ask me. \"No, I'm not.\" He cuts me off and shouts for four Boston Lagers. \"Bruce, you must know where Fontane is hiding.\" He laughs. \"Joey Fontane is not hiding just because you can't find him,\" Bruce says. \"He hasn't retaliated in nearly a month after turning the school against itself,\" Justin adds. \"And your proud of that,\" Bruce asks. An attractive woman wearing a pink bralette top with white shorts places four Boston lagers on the table. \"Bruce, where is he,\" I repeat. \"You know when I was the Student Body President; my student death toll was slightly lower than yours. No, wait now that I fucking think of it, it was way lower compared to your little campaign. And yet, I'm the one with the corrupt reputation,\" Bruce says. He picks up his lager and takes a gulp.\n\n\"Bruce, at this moment I'm not talking morals. I just want to know where Fontane is,\" I say. Bruce takes another gulp of his lager. \"Now that you witnessed what Fontane is capable of, who was right me or you,\" Bruce asks. \"You were right Bruce, you were right this whole god dam time.\" Justin turns his head around and studies me with his eyes. \"Even if we kill Fontane, it will never make up for the amount of innocent lives that were lost. Innocent people who will never experience graduating from high school, experiencing college, falling in love, and all that follows because of me. I took away the best part of their lives. I was young and stupid standing up for injustice, never thinking about the consequences of what I was getting myself into. I've grown up and now see that sometimes you have to look the other way to survive in this world,\" I say never taking my eyes off Bruce. \"Well kid, I'm glad you finally understand my position, but I can't help you find Fontane,\" Bruce says. \"Why?\" \"Because it's not like I just strolled into wherever he was and helped myself to a cup of coffee. I went to the compound that you and your little team destroyed and they blindfolded me and took me to him. And no it wasn't just right around the corner,\" Bruce says answering my next question.\n\n\"You really have no idea where Fontane is.\" \"Yes kid, I swear I have no idea where he is.\" \"Think you could talk to him again,\" Justin asks. Bruce looks at Justin now. \"We haven't spoken since I lost the election in November, and no I cherish my life. I'm graduating from this school in June and moving on with my life,\" Bruce says. \"Bruce, that could work we could put some sort of tracker on you and,\" I say before Bruce cuts me off. \"No kid, weren't you listening I'm graduating from school in June and moving the fuck on with my life. Don't you think you're responsible for too many deaths as is,\" Bruce yells.\n\n\"He hasn't been responsible for anyone's death,\" Justin shouts back. The bartender places another full lager for Bruce and his driver, taking their empty glasses with her on her way back to the bar. \"He will never know,\" I plead. \"Get the fuck out of my bar,\" Bruce says slamming both his fist against the table. It would have been a more dramatic scene if anybody else besides the bartender was here.\n\nBruce's driver places his pistol on the table. \"Okay we're leaving,\" I say taking ten dollars out and putting it on the table. Justin and I walk toward the exit. We ride to my house in silence. \"Thank you,\" I say to Justin as I exit from the passenger door. \"Did you mean what you said earlier,\" he asks. \"Your regret about going after Fontane,\" he elaborates. I lean against the open passenger side door. \"Yes, in hindsight. Too many lives were lost despite our best intentions.\"\n\n\"What were we suppose to do not stand up against him and the rights of transfer and foreign students,\" Justin asks. \"I think so yes. Many of the students were going to go on and do great things and had their entire life ahead of them. There's more to experience in life after high school. So much more that high school would have seemed like a distant memory in their near future,\" I say finally. Justin stares straight ahead through the windshield. \"I thought we were doing the right thing. Now I'm not so sure,\" Justin says at last.\n\n# 21\n\nThe middle of May arrives with the school at peace. There haven't been any attacks, but there also has been no information on the whereabouts of Joey Fontane and his gang. Tonight belongs to all the seniors whom will soon be graduating. For me it was about making sure Kayla had a night to remember. The limousine I rented waits outside in the driveway while I wait for Kayla in her living room.\n\n\"You treat my baby well tonight, you promise me that,\" Kayla's dad says. \"Of course\". \"I trust you, you're a good kid. I could see that you care about her,\" he says. \"I love her too sir,\" I say. Kayla's mom walks anxiously into the living room, \"I'm so excited, honey, remember our prom night.\" \"How could I forget,\" Kayla's dad asks. \"You both met in high school,\" I ask. \"Yes, we both started dating junior year and got engaged one year after high school,\" says Kayla's mom. Kayla clears her throat to get the rooms attention. I turn around in her direction.\n\nShe owns the light blue blush high low strapless dress with glittering sequins. \"You, you're beautiful,\" I say. \"Come on you two, time for photos,\" Kayla's mom tells us.\n\nI put my arm around Kayla's waist and hold her close to me while we look straight ahead until the flash of the camera blinds us both. \"Okay now I want pictures with your dad and me after I get one of you two kissing,\" Kayla's mom says. Kayla and I face each other and kiss like we have so many times before. \"I don't think I got that,\" says Kayla's mom. I turn to face Kayla to kiss her again. \"I was only joking; you have all night for that I want some pictures with my daughter.\" She pushes the camera into my hands as she stands next to her daughter, awaiting me to take the picture. After every combination of people that could be in the picture at what seemed to be every location in the house, Kayla and I finally head to the limousine parked outside.\n\nWe slide into the comfortable leather seats in the back. \"Sorry we took so long,\" I tell the driver before closing the glass window that separates us from him in the back. The back of limousine is spacious, includes a flat screen television and mini fridge. Despite all the room Kala cuddles close to me. \"Thank you for all this,\" she says.\n\nThe limousine slowly drives through windy back roads until we finally arrive at Gee's Restaurant banquet hall. Kayla and I hold hands after exiting from the limousine and walk toward a line of other couples in the humid May night. Excitement fills the air, as couples and friends converse with each other while they wait to get into prom. \"Kayla, you look so beautiful in that dress,\" says a girl to Kayla. \"Thank you, look at you, I love what you did with your hair,\" Kayla says back. \"Matt this is my friend Trish, Trish this is my boyfriend Matt I told you about,\" Kayla says. Trish waves to me, \"Nice to finally meet you.\" \"I have to find Trevor, see you both inside,\" she says walking away.\n\nWhen we finally get to the front of the line I hand the bouncer our prom tickets. He points us to the direction to where we get our prom photo. Kayla flaunts her dress in a humorous manner as the camera flashes. After, we head inside the elegant banquet hall to the sound of music and excited seniors anxious to graduate.\n\n\"Matt, do you think he's dead,\" a guy with his girlfriend debating with another couple about Joey Fontane at our table asks. \"I don't know, but I do know that we should enjoy this night,\" I say. He waves me off and continues his debate. \"Do you want to dance,\" I ask Kayla. She nods, so I stand up and take her hand. Kayla and I find a spot on the crowded dance floor. I didn't realize it but three hours flies right by.\n\n\"Okay, okay Mountain High let's settle down, it's been a great night so far. It's now time to announce the prom King and Queen. Could Kyle Anderson and Amanda Jackson please come onto the stage,\" the D.J. shouts into his microphone over the loud crowd. The D.J. places the king throne on Kyle and queen throne Amanda. \"Okay seniors this is your last dance before graduation find your dance partner and head to the dance floor,\" the D.J. tells us.\n\nA slow moving song plays. I hold Kayla close to me as we dance slowly to the music. I don't want this feeling, this moment to end. \"I decided against attending Sale University. I enrolled at Galvon University,\" Kayla says into my ear. \"I thought you liked the program at Sale University,\" I say as we continue to sway to the music. \"I did but I could commute to Galvon. I want to be close to my family, and you. I don't want to lose you,\" she says. I can't help but hold back a smile. Whatever we had I didn't want it to end.\n\nI wait near the limousine under the night stars as Kayla says good bye to her friends. I open the door for her as she comes near. \"Well thank you,\" she says.\n\nThe limousine takes a right turn onto the back road. \"I had fun tonight. The school did a good job with everything,\" Kayla says. She sits on top of me putting her hand inside my suite jacket. I take it off. We share a passionate kiss. I glide my hand gently and slowly down her body to her hips. A bright light shines through the limousine. A car honks obnoxiously behind. I slide open the glass divider between the driver in the front. \"What's going on,\" I ask. \"This fucking idiot is honking at me. Meanwhile he's driving with his fucking high beams on,\" he shouts. \"Okay, just be careful these roads are windy,\" I say nervously. \"I know how to drive,\" he says back.\n\nI open my window, and stick my head out to get a better look. The sports car following us shuts their high beams. Through the darkness I see an outline of a person standing up through a sun roof holding a long object in their hands pointed directly at our limousine. The figure doesn't flinch as the sport car continues to follow. \"Fucking go man,\" I yell to the driver fearing the worst.\n\nI feel a sudden jerk as the car rises from the ground, flips over, grinds against the road, and slams into a tree with force. I open my eyes. The fire from the car burns against my skin. I don't know where I am at the moment. I don't know what happened, but my survival instincts tell me to get out of the car. I find a way out through a broken window on my side. I slide my body against the forest ground using both my elbows. I force myself up and walk unorthodox in a short bust before I collapse onto the forest ground. Lying on my back I look up at the stars. I remember I was at prom with Kayla. Shit, I need to get her in the car, I need to get her. I can't move though. My mind wants to get up, and save her before the car reaches its inevitable conclusion and explodes from the fire. But I can't get up, physically can't get up. I force myself to find whatever I have into getting up in an attempt to save her. I try again to get up, I do. I walk and fall instantly to the forest ground though. Then I hear it, the sound of the car exploding. I close my eyes and reopen them. I stare up at the stars and moon through the branches above me with emptiness inside me. Tears stroll down my face. Kayla is gone; I just had everything I wanted in Kayla moments before. Earlier I was posing for photos with her. I close my eyes, unable and unwilling to move from where I lay.\n\n# 22\n\nI'm in an endless area surrounded by bright white light all around me. Confused I continue to walk with no clear destination in mind. The ground below me transforms into bright lush green grass. I continue walking. The area above me transforms into a cloudless blue sky with the sun so bright that I have to shield my eyes from it with my arm. I continue walking until I trip and fall onto the grass. From the ground I turn around to see what I tripped over. \"Are you okay,\" Kayla asks me lying on her back holding back laughter from my fall. The moment doesn't feel authentic because I'm aware that Kayla has died from the accident. I don't even think about questioning where I am because I don't care. All I know is that I'm with Kayla now. I move closer to her and like her lie on my back looking above at the blue, cloudless sky. She takes my hand and grabs it. I want this to last forever, but it doesn't. Abruptly, I don't feel her hand against mine. I turn and she is gone. Fighter jets fly past me from above, leaving a trail of white streaks in the blue sky. I hear sounds of bombs going off in the distance. I open my eyes. My parents look down at me. I lay in pain on a hospital bed. \"What happened,\" I ask. \"You were in an accident, you been out for two weeks,\" my mom responds. \"Kayla died, didn't she,\" I ask. My mom and dad both look down at the floor beneath them.\n\nWith crutches I walk down Kayla's driveway. When I reach the front door, I knock. Kayla's dad opens the door. \"I'm so sorry,\" I say tears crawling down my face uncontrollably. He opens the door wider to let me in. I close the front door behind me, and follow Kayla's dad into the living room. I take a seat on the green linen couch placing my crutches at my side. \"It wasn't your fault. She loved you, you know. I never seen her that happy before,\" he says taking a gulp from a can of beer clutched in his hand.\n\nI let the natural silence ensue between us. I know it wasn't my fault, someone in the car behind our limousine fired something in his hand and it all happened so fast after that. I'm certain the outlined figured I made out that night whom fired at our limousine was Joey Fontane but I don't know for sure. \"I loved her,\" I say unable to hold back tears. \"Let me get you a beer,\" Kayla's dad says getting up from the couch and into the kitchen. His body language is of a man who is defeated. He hands me a can of beer. \"Kayla is buried at Hill Cemetery.\" \"Or that's what we try to tell ourselves because her body,\" he says before I interrupt him. \"I understand,\" I say. He takes another gulp of the beer in his hand. \"Do you need directions for where it is,\" he asks. \"No. I know where it is\". I only know because it's the same cemetery where Mrs. Snow was buried. I hear the front door open. I grab my crutches and walk toward the front door to Kayla's mom. I drop my crutches on the floor and hug her. She hugs me back while she sobs. \"I'm so sorry,\" I whisper into her ear.\n\nI stand in front of Kayla's grave covered with an abundant amount of flowers. In silence I look down. If this is what life is, I want no part of it.\n\nI walk with the assistance of my crutches among a crowd of students all heading toward the front entrance of the school. \"Matt,\" someone shouts at me. Caroline walks toward me. \"I heard what happened, I'm sorry,\" she says. \"What is it Caroline,\" I ask. \"You been gone for two weeks, I should get you caught up,\" she says. I continue walking saying nothing. \"The rest of the team is dead. Fontane attacked the school. This time it was more personal.\" I scratch an itch on my scruffy beard. The physical and mental pain and being out for two weeks hasn't given me the motivation or the time to care about my appearance. \"What are you talking about Caroline?\"\n\n\"Joey Fontane and his gang roamed the hallways took out our team and randomly shot and killed students in classrooms and hallways.\" I throw my crutches and toss them to the side in anger. \"Don't you need those,\" she asks. \"Forget me show me the footage from the surveillance cameras.\" \"Matt I checked the footage, that's how I know what happened,\" she says. \"I limp slowly away from her. She catches up to me. \"I want to see it so I could feel the pain of what happened,\" I say.\n\nCaroline tries to help me walk. I wave her off. When we finally reach my headquarters in the abandoned section of the school I take a seat at the desk of televisions in front of me. Caroline plays the footage. I watch Joey Fontane and his gang walk casually through the hallways open firing at anybody who's in their path. I watch them as I see Justin and the other members put up a fight only to eventually fall to their deaths. I watch them as they storm into classrooms and open fire upon innocent students. In a middle of a lecture taking notes I imagine. Then the footage cuts off.\n\nAt the end of the day I walk in pain still without my crutches to assist me and go through the door that leads to the roof of the school. I feel at peace up here watching as students get onto their busses to be taken home, seniors one day closer to graduation.\n\nI look down from the roof at the parking lot in silence until a loud explosion startles me and then another. Two busses exploded. I lift myself up, taking me three attempts to get up. I look helplessly down at the bus parking lot as students who didn't get on their bus yet run back toward the school; others run off their busses. A minute later another bus explodes damaging the ones parked next to it as well.\n\nI walk as fast as I could to the exit door from the roof. I push through the pain. Another loud explosion followed by shouts of terror. I open the door and hold the stair railings as I make my way down and into the hallway. I want to run but the pain coercing through my body makes it impossible. Finally, I make it outside to the parking lot of terrified students. I hear some crying. Caroline finds me and stands next to me. \"When will this all end,\" she murmurs to herself. Another bus explodes, then another. Caroline and I along with the rest of the student body watch the random busses explode right in front of our eyes. What hope do you feed the student body when you have no desire to live and no hope to offer? A thick billow of grey smoke rises from the bus parking lot into the air as each and every bus explodes simultaneously.\n\nThe next day after school I walk gingerly into the run down bar to talk to Bruce. He sits alone at the bar talking to the same bartender that worked the last time I came. I take a seat to his left. He turns in my direction and waves off the bartender to give us privacy. \"Set me up with one of Fontane's men,\" I say. \"You don't look so good,\" he says. He looks at my thick scruffy beard and unkempt hair. \"Set me up with one of Fontane's men,\" I repeat. \"You're not going to just be able to go in there and shoot him. He does have security, you know,\" he says. \"I don't plan on being armed,\" I say. \"'I just want to talk to him.\" \"What you want to see him and have a nice little chat,\" he asks. \"Set me up with one of Fontane's men,\" I repeat again. \"Fine, fine I'll let someone know you want to have a meeting with Fontane,\" he says. \"Good,\" I say. I get up from behind the bar and walk in pain slowly toward the exit.\n\nThe following day Bruce grabs me at the entrance of the school and pulls me to the side, away from the crowd of students entering the building. \"Easy man, that fucking hurts,\" I say. \"Be at the catwalk at noon. Unless it's a set up you're going to get that little meeting with Fontane,\" Bruce tells me. \"Bruce, thank you,\" I say. \"Don't thank me\". \"I hope you find what you're looking for after all this,\" I say. \"Two more weeks then I'm out, and thanks I hope the same for you kid,\" he says. I smile and give him a nod as he walks through the front entrance.\n\nIt's 12:20pm. Whoever was supposed to meet me and take me to Fontane is late. \"Hands up, turn around slowly,\" a man says loudly behind me. I lift my hands and turn around. Three men in suits surround me with assault rifles aimed at me. They search me for any weapon that could be used against them. \"Clear,\" says one of the men. They blindfold me, and then stick a needle into my left arm. Suddenly I feel sleepy, lose my balance, then my eyes close as darkness encloses around me.\n\nI sit on a beach towel next to Kayla at the shore. Victoria walks past us giving me a flirty look in the process. \"What is she doing here,\" Kayla asks. I look at the scenery around me. Two teams mixed of adults, teens and young kids play volleyball to our left. Victoria is standing at the shoreline where only her feet would get wet after a wave breaks. I see myself, another me walk up to her. I recognize the scene unfolding in front of me. This is the beach I went with Victoria and her family last summer. The beach where Victoria and I snuck off into her room leaving her siblings alone to experience sex for our first time, and where we walked along the shore before the sun would rise, where I knew I wanted to be with Victoria forever.\n\n\"Do you still love her,\" Kayla asks. \"I did love her\". \"So you have no feelings for her anymore,\" she asks. I hear gunshots and Joey Fontane and his gang as they shoot and kill everyone in their way as they march through the sand coming toward us. Fontane comes up to my beach towel and grabs me. I see Victoria on the opposite side being grabbed by one of Fontane's men. I look back at Kayla as she gets grabbed by another one of Fontane's men. Fontane pushes me forcefully into the middle of them. The wind begins to blow the sand violently in different directions. The clouds begin to get dark. The sounds of thunder could be heard in the distance.\n\n\"We're going to play a little game. It's called pick one and the other one gets a fucking bullet in their head. Pick nobody then all three of you will die. To your left the very lovely Victoria, your first true love, and to your right, proving that first love is so overrated is the very beautiful Kayla,\" Joey Fontane shouts into my ear over the sound of the wind. \"You have 10 seconds to choose the one who you want to live,\" he shouts again. I look at Victoria, then at Kayla. \"3 seconds,\" Fontane shouts. I don't know who to choose. \"1 second,\" Fontane shouts. \"Victoria,\" I shout over the wind. I feel light rain against my bare skin as I fall to my knees. I turn to my right and watch as Kayla's lifeless body collapses onto the sand. The thunder roars loudly and then suddenly my eyes are open once again.\n\n# 23\n\nI'm sitting at a table across from Fontane and two armed men standing at his sides in a dim lighted room. Fontane and the two men at his sides wear black suits. \"My associates inform me you were unarmed. Why,\" Fontane asks. \"I give up, this all needs to stop,\" I say. \"Give up?\" \"Yes, go back to the way things were before I was here.\" \"The foreign and transfer students go back to me,\" Fontane demands.\n\n\"This is just pathetic. Look at you, no fight at all.\" He places a combat knife on the table between us. \"Why don't I just kill you now,\" he asks. \"You could and to be honest I don't think I would care, or I could be the symbol of a guy who wanted nothing but to bring you down then gave up because he realized he would never win,\" I say. Fontane studies me but probably see's a man so defeated that he agrees with my argument. \"We return the transfers immediately,\" he says.\n\nI walk with Fontane and members of his gang as they go from classroom to classroom taking hostage the foreign and transfer students. I see them look at me with defeated and disappointed eyes while I watch the brutally inflicted upon them. \"This is fucking bullshit, you're no better than them,\" one of the transfer students shouts directly at me. Fontane takes the end of his rifle and violently smashes it into the transfers face. Blood rushes from his nose. His nose cartilage is now crooked to the left from the impact. He falls onto the hallway floor, and holds his hand against his nose to stop the bleeding. Fontane with full force kicks the transfer student in the nose harder and harder and harder as he cries out in pain. Fontane picks him up by collar of his shirt and pushes him forward as him and his gang continues to gather up more transfer students.\n\nFontane has his men planted throughout the school to show the student body just in case they didn't already know, the school belongs to him. It's the last day before summer break and I hope to forget my first year of high school. I sit on the ledge of the school roof with my legs hanging down. I look at the rural campus surrounded by forest and empty land. The land surrounding the school is plentiful and in a world of its own. I hear the door slam shut behind me. I turn around to Victoria walking in my direction.\n\n\"What a year,\" she says. I ignore her and continue to stare straight ahead. She takes a seat on my right on the ledge of the roof with me. \"I'm sorry what happened to Kayla,\" she says. I turn to look at her. \"You haven't talked to me all year.\"\n\n\"I was scared Matt,\" she says. \"Of what?\" \"That I would be missing out on the high school experience if I was with you. We had a great thing going. My whole family asks about you because they knew it too. The only thing I missed out on was being without you for the whole year, possibly longer,\" she says. \"Why didn't you ever say anything to me this whole year Victoria,\" I ask. \"You seemed content. You had a new group of friends. I don't know you just seemed like you were making your own way, and moved on from me. Then you started dating Kayla,\" she says. \"I'm not a hero Victoria. I don't even know who I am anymore,\" I say lifting myself up from the ledge of the roof heading for the exit door. I close the door behind me leaving Victoria in silence.\n\n# 24\n\nOn the Saturday morning of my high school graduation parents and other family members file into the football stadium eager to watch their loved one walk down the aisle with diploma in hand. I stand on the outside of the football stadium fence watching as the seniors walk in line heading to their seats. I imagine Kayla in her cap and gown sitting with the rest of her class she grew up with, turning around in her chair smiling at me.\n\n\"My son never told me you had beard when describing you,\" a man who looks to be in his 40s tells me leaning his hand against the fence looking out toward the football stadium at the soon to be graduates. He has a clean, neat, professional appearance, dressed up for the occasion, while I stand wearing cargo shorts and a blue t-shirt. \"Sorry do I know you,\" I ask. \"My name is Alex. Leo's dad,\" he tells me extending his hand. Upon hearing the words Leo's dad, I turn in his direction giving him my attention. \"Your son died saving the school, doing everything to keep it out of the hands of Joey Fontane, only for me to give it back a few months later. You don't want to talk to me,\" I say turning my attention back to the graduation ceremony. \"You're going through a tough time right now. I understand. However, if I told you could get revenge for everyone you lost by taking down Fontane and the rest of the Pyramid organization, would you agree to it,\" Alex asks. \"Pyramid Organization,\" I repeat perplexed. \"Take this card and call me if you want answers.\" I take the card he holds out in his hand in front of me. I examine the plain white card with his cell phone number printed on it then place it in the pocket of my cargo shorts.\n\nKayla's parents walk down the aisle to a standing ovation as they accept the diploma on behalf of their daughter. When they arrive back to their seats I leave the scene behind me.\n\nTwo weeks pass since the high school graduation. I dry myself with a towel as I come out of the shower and walk to the mirror to look at my reflection. I decide to shave my beard which has been getting increasingly thicker. I begin to put on my cargo shorts when I notice something in my pocket fall onto the floor. It's the card which I took from Leo's dad at the graduation ceremony. I unfold the card, now wet from being in the washer machine. I make out the number printed on it and decide to call it. Alex answers on the second ring. \"Hello, its Matt we met at the graduation ceremony two week ago.\" \"Yes, I remember. How are you,\" he asks. \"Better,\" I answer. \"I was hoping I could answer your question you asked me. Yes, I want revenge and to take down Fontane,\" I say.\n\nI sit at a nearby park, watching a physical pickup game of basketball. A limousine pulls into the parking lot in front me, and when I see Alex open the door wearing a black suite I walk in his direction. \"Hey,\" he says holding the limousine door open for me. I sit on the black leather seats opposite of Alex in the back as the limousine pulls out of the park parking lot. \"I don't have the best experience with limousines,\" I comment. \"We won't be in it long. Any bad experiences with private jets,\" he asks.\n\n\"Pyramid is the name of the company that supplies my and other school districts with food. One of the drivers was caught smuggling Fontane's drugs in and out of the school by your son,\" I say. \"Matt, it's bigger than that one isolated incident at your school. The Pyramid Company is major drug operation that uses the school delivery business as a front for their other illegal business,\" he says. \"The company is headquartered in Miami, Florida and run by Fontane's dad. There are more people like Joey Fontane at a number of high schools throughout the country and their operation is only getting larger,\" he finishes. \"Fontane's parents are dead. Joey was adapted because no one else would take him in,\" I say with certainly.\n\n\"Not true. Fontane's parents staged a car accident, and they left their son to start their illegal operation. No one in the family took Joey in because no one in their families associated themselves with his parents, so no one knew they were dead, nor did they care if they were. Leo befriended Fontane in school. He would come over the house, then I got assigned to look into the Pyramid Company in Miami, and I discovered his parents alive. I made the mistake telling him that his parents were alive, trying to convince him that he shouldn't feel abandoned by people who would leave him behind to do what they were doing, and that his family didn't know he existed and that's why no one came for him. But the news pushed him away and he joined with his parents,\" Alex says. So many questions race through my mind, that I don't know which to ask first.\n\n\"We're here,\" Alex says. I open the limousine door to a private jet parked a thousand feet away on pavement in what appeared to be in the middle of nowhere surrounded by dried out grass. I step onto the jet and take a seat on white leather seats. Looking out my window I watch as the jet slowly rises into the air.\n\n\"What exactly is the plan,\" I ask. \"Play the same way they have played. Dirty,\" Alex answers. \"Every summer the Pyramid agents like Fontane from all the high schools they operate in have an annual meeting at their headquarters in Miami. It's then when we tear their whole operation apart,\" Alex says with conviction. \"Are you sure that's the best way to go about this,\" I ask. \"You don't think I tried to do this clean. The whole operation is protected with corrupt officials on their payroll. No, they are going to pay for taking away my son,\" Alex raises his voice. He's right this has to be the way, if we are to make sure they pay for what they've done.\n\n# 25\n\nThe hot humid air hits me instantly as I exit the private jet. Alex opens the back of an old rugged white van that awaited our arrival. Inside are 6 other men in tanks and t-shirts. \"Most of the agents are coming down next week for their annual meeting, until then we sit tight.\" There are no windows in the back, but I feel the van drive off. The others talk to each other while I sit there in silence and listen. Finally I feel the van come to a stop. Alex swings open the back door. I'm the last one to jump out.\n\nI walk with Alex on the crowded boardwalk. I look out onto the white sanded beach and admire the clear blue water. \"Right over there is Pyramid headquarters,\" Alex says. I turn to look to where he points on the opposite side facing the beach, through the palm trees a skyscraper built of clear glass 100 stories high sits with a beachfront view. I tilt my head back to look at the top of the building and see top lighted letters that read \"Pyramid Company\".\n\n\"Nice building,\" I say. After a day of Alex showing me around he knocks on the back of the van door. Another one of our team members opens it. \"Charlie why don't you show Matt around the building,\" Alex says.\n\n\"Come over here,\" Charlie tells me. He wears a black tank top with tattoos covering both his arms. On his laptop he takes me through 3-D rendered blueprint of Pyramid Company headquarters interior. \"This is where the pyramid agents will be meeting,\" Charlie says pointing to the 100th and final floor. I examine the rendering of the last floor closely. In it is a meeting room that takes over half the room with other offices on the opposite side of the hall taking up the other half. \"We are going in loaded,\" Charlie tells me.\n\nI restlessly turn on my side again in my motel bed. \"Can't sleep,\" Alex asks from the other bed beside me. \"I don't know if I want to die, I knew I did before,\" I say. \"Hey who said anything about dying,\" he says. \"How many Pyramid agents do you think will be there,\" I ask. \"75 give or take,\" he answers. \"And the 8 of us are going to take them all down,\" I ask with doubt in my voice. I hear Alex shuffle out of his bed and turn on the light. I protect my eyes from the light with my right arm. \"They took my son away, Joey Fontane and the rest of that organization needs to go down. I want to watch their lifeless bodies collapse onto the ground, and so do you,\" he says. \"We can't take down the organization if we're dead,\" I say. It's obvious that I'm on a team of men like me who lost someone and are in desperate need to revenge their deaths. I don't respond, instead I turn to on my side and close my eyes until I finally fall asleep.\n\nI'm at a college campus. Kayla smiles as she notices me from a swarm of students surrounding her. As she gets closer to me I hear her talking, but I hear nothing. I look around me at other students and watch their mouths move, but I still hear nothing. Without warning, people run past Kayla and I with fear in their eyes. Fontane and his gang scroll in our direction with assault rifles, killing everybody in their proximity. I watch as students fall to their death. \"We have to go now,\" I yell, but Kayla continues talking to me in same manner as before. I try to pull her. She doesn't budge and continues talking with her expression unchanged from before. Fontane and his gang are now a short distance away. I hear nothing but I see Kayla fall to the ground in front of me, a bullet wound in the back of her head. I knell down next to her\n\nI open my eyes drenched in sweat. Alex is putting on a shirt in front of his bed. \"Bad dream,\" he asks. \"No, I'm fine,\" I get up and walk into the bathroom. Many students including Kayla died because of me. I have to make things right. It's selfish of me to not be willing to die to avenge their deaths. I have no choice now. My choice was already decided when I became responsible for putting innocent lives at risk.\n\n\"What kind of weapons do we have,\" I ask. \"Assault rifles, smoke grenades, and explosive grenades,\" Alex says. \"We set up a time bomb in the middle of the building. We expand our team and we have a helicopter pick us up at the top of the roof of the building for a safe passage,\" I say. He laughs. \"We are relying on too many outsiders. I'm telling you they have the money and resources,\" he says. \"If we are going to take this organization down, this is a better way,\" I reply. \"I have trusted connections to get us the helicopter, but expanding our team is a no, they would sell us out.\" \"What about the bomb,\" I say. \"I'll see what I could do,\" he answers.\n\nI sit on the white sand people watching. \"I got it,\" Alex says from behind me. \"What,\" I ask. \"We pick up the bomb tomorrow,\" Alex says. \"That's good,\" I say. A volleyball rolls to the side of me. I pick it up and throw the ball back to a girl in a two piece swimsuit. She catches it and giggles. \"What's your name,\" she asks. \"Matt,\" I say. \"Want to join our game\" she asks. I look at Alex and then back at her. \"Sure,\" I say getting up. \"I'm Sarah by the way.\n\n\"I had fun today Sarah. Thank you for showing me around the city,\" I say as the sun begins to set behind the ocean. \"You know the fun doesn't have to end. My friend has beach house nearby. Her parents aren't home,\" she says. \"I have other plans. I'm sorry,\" I say as I walk away from her.\n\nAlex opens the motel room after the third knock. \"Have fun today,\" he asks. \"Too much,\" I say as I take a sit at the edge of my bed. \"It's okay to have fun.\" he assures me.\n\nIn the early morning, the rest of the team along with Alex and I enter the back of the white van heading to the Pyramid Company headquarters. I prepare my riffle, pack extra ammo, along with my smoke and explosive grenades. I take a deep breath. I'm going to make it alive and even if I die, I would in an attempt avenging the deaths of the ones close to me. Something I am willing to die for.\n\nI feel the van stop in its tracks. \"Victor you understand what you're doing with the bomb,\" Alex asks. \"Yea man, I understand.\" \"Good. Just to confirm, Matt, Thomas, Paul, Nick, George, and I will head to the 100th floor where all the agents will be, including the man who started the operation Nicolas Fontane, or Joey Fontane's dad. They both are our main targets, but they all deserve to die. Charlie you make sure to protect Victor while he plants the bomb. Once set the bomb will explode in fifth teen minutes. Charlie and Victor just make sure you get out of there. The rest of you are to be at the top of the roof within 5 minutes, the view should be nice from the helicopter while the building collapses.\" Alex says.\n\nI feel the knot in my stomach as the van door opens. My feet touch down on the pavement. The surrounding area is quiet and peaceful at 8am. We walk side by side heading toward the Pyramid Company front entrance. \"You're not allowed in here,\" shouts a guard. Charlie aims and fires at the guard without looking as he falls to the ground. A chandelier hangs from the center of the luxurious main lobby. Alex presses the elevator button, and it opens. The entire team squeezes in. The elevator door opens on the 50th floor. \"This is where we part ways,\" says Charlie as him and Victor exit the elevator. I hear a firefight as the elevator slams shut. \"Charlie, Victor what's happening,\" Alex shouts into his headset. \"Just a little resistance, nothing we can't handle,\" Charlie says back. Stay calm everything is going to be okay. I look at the buttons displaying what floor we currently are on, number 90 is brightened. The elevator stops on floor 93. A man wearing a suite looks at us and before he runs away from the elevator is shot dead from behind.\n\n\"Bomb is set, fifteen minutes,\" Charlie says through our headsets. The whole team simultaneously sets the timer on their watch for fifteen minutes.\n\nThe elevator door opens and stalls on floor 98, so we spread out finding cover behind office desks or furniture. Each one of us aims our assault rifles at a guard also aimed at us. \"Drop the guns now,\" shouts one of the guards behind cover on the opposite side of the floor. I don't blink my eyes or take my focus from the guard I'm aimed at. \"Uhhh no,\" shouts Alex firing his gun from across the room. \"Mr. Fontane, 6 armed men are attempting to make their way up to you,\" I hear a guard shout over the firefight. I notice that across the room is a door that leads to a stairwell. I take out my smoke grenade. \"Stairwell across,\" I yell. I toss my smoke grenade and walk straight into the smoke using my memory to find the stairwell. I feel as I have lost all sense of direction. Just walk straight. Just walk straight. I stick my hands out attempting to feel the stairwell door. My hands finally find the door. The smoke begins to clear from the room and the rest of the team is able to locate the door except Thomas who is at far left side of the room. The rest of my team near the stairwell fires at the disoriented guards.\n\n\"Don't know how I ended up over there,\" Thomas says making his way toward the stairwell. I laugh a nervous laugh as we continue to climb the stairs. My watch reads eight minutes until the bomb goes off. We reach the door to the last floor, floor 100. I think that we have a better chance to exit the building from the front, but without the elevator working it's an impossible feat. Our desire for revenge is going to get us all killed. We could have planted the bomb and watched as the building collapsed from the distance. \"We all knew it was going to end like this,\" Alex says. He opens the door and fires randomly around him with the sound of guns firing right back at him from different directions. The rest of the team and I fire explosive and smoke grenades around us.\n\nAlex drops onto the ground, and clutches his hands to a wound near his chest. \"Finish them for me and Leo. It's my fault Leo is dead, let me die,\" he whimpers. His eyes close shut and never reopen.\n\nTo my right in the meeting room that takes up half the floor I observe Joey Fontane sitting patiently and peacefully at a large boardroom table while he watches the chaos unfold in front of him. \"We had a deal,\" he says as I open the door and walk into the room, assault rifle aimed at his head. \"We both knew it wasn't going to end like that,\" I say. I step my way closer toward him. \"If you're only stalling to kill me because you want to know for sure if I'm responsible for your girlfriend's death, the answer is yes. I aimed and fired my Bazooka aimed right at the bottom of the limousine. But aren't you glad I taught you something about yourself,\" says Fontane. \"You only care about yourself. I mean to not attempt to save her. You're no hero.\" He looks straight into my eyes. I look at my watch as it reads a minute and a half until the building goes down.\n\n\"Your right Fontane I'm not a hero, but I'm going to die while I watch this organization get destroyed,\" I say. \"Your right about one thing, you're going to die,\" he says grabbing my gun and throwing it across the room.\n\nThe windows in the room shatter from rounds of bullets firing from a helicopter outside near the window. Papers fly around me from behind cover in the room, my hair moves around crazily from the wind. Fontane and I both are in cover until the round of bullets stop.\n\n\"Dads here,\" he says running toward the shattered window. I get up and run after him. He jumps into the opening of helicopter that then turns away from the building. Without hesitation I jump from the window, and grasp onto the landing skid. The helicopter with my entire body hanging with my hands clutched tightly to the landing skid move further and further into the distance from the Pyramid building. Moments later I hear the sound of an explosion behind me. I turn my head slightly and watch as the building crumbles toward the ground.\n\nThe helicopter is now flying over the clear blue Miami water. I could attempt to pull myself into the helicopter, but I have no gun and no clear play as I dangle unnoticed from the landing skip of the helicopter containing Joey Fontane and his dad.\n\nI'm in my fifth grade class. Mrs. Doogle with her dark rimmed glasses and curly red hair reads pairs of names for our next group project. \"Matt James your partner is going to be Victoria Rose.\"\n\nBack in the present day, I let go of the helicopters landing skid and fall from the sky into the clear, blue Miami water. I swim and emerge to the surface of the water for fresh air.\n\n\"Hello,\" I say nervously as I take a seat next to Victoria. I didn't know how much this girl Victoria would mean to me in the future. That she would eventually save my life as I let my hands free from the landing skid into the calm, clear water.\n\nFrom the surface of the water I cough and attempt to get my breathing under control. While I float in the still, clear water I watch as the helicopter containing the Fontane's get smaller and smaller in the distance until it's completely gone from sight.\n\n# Epilogue: 11 years later\n\nVictoria sits on an empty green lawn chair holding our first child, 2 month year old Tucker in her arms. \"Honey could you hold him for a second.\" I take him from Victoria's arms and hold in mine. Victoria's dad stands by the barbeque grilling hotdogs and burgers for his daughter Brianna's friends. Victoria's mom is conversing with some of her friends. Brianna comes up to Victoria and I. \"I'm glad you're here,\" she tells me. The sounds of splashing and laugher could be heard from the above ground pool in front of us. \"You're a big college girl now. What are you going to major in,\" I ask. \"Public relations like my sister,\" she says proudly. \"Brianna, come in the pool,\" a boy shouts from inside the pool. \"I'll talk to you both later, even you Tucker,\" she says before racing toward the pool. Victoria gets up, \"I'm going to get some food, did you want me to bring you back something,\" she asks. \"I'll take a cheeseburger, do you want me to get it,\" I ask. \"No I got it; Tucker is quiet when you hold him.\" I look down at Tucker, his eyes looking back at me with a smile. I watch Victoria as she talks to her dad near the grill. I can't help but be excited to begin the next chapter of my life with her.\n\n#\n\n", "meta": {"pile_set_name": "BookCorpus2"}}